With thanks to my beta reader, WellspringCD, and to all who continue to read.

Bann Teagan had organised two fishing boats to take them all to the north end of Lake Calenhad; it would save them a considerable walk. Fearghal, Alistair and Bane went in one boat, Wynne, Morrigan, Leliana and Zevran in the other. The day was overcast and, out on the lake, it was windy, the water choppy. Alistair felt distinctly ill as he leaned on his pack, set against the side of the boat. He felt like he'd been poured into a bottle that was being shaken up. He glanced up at Fearghal; his fellow-warden was apparently unaffected by the movement of the small vessel.

Fearghal was standing, leaning sideways against the side of the boat, one arm raised to hold onto part of the rigging, moving easily with the motion of the small craft. The wind whipped his shaggy mop of hair across his face. Even with his hair obscuring his face, Alistair could see him smiling. Maker's breath! He's enjoying this! Alistair groaned as he felt his gorge rising. He desperately willed himself not to be sick and, for a few brief moments, he thought he'd succeeded; then his belly clenched and he started to retch. With a yelp, he leaped up and leaned over the side just in time, before he was violently sick.

Alistair leaned his head on his arms, trembling. He started as he felt a hand on his back. He turned his head and saw Fearghal standing next to him, holding out a water skin.

"Don't drink it, just rinse your mouth out."

Alistair did as he was told, rinsing the sour taste out of his mouth.

"You know, if you'd said you get sick, I'd have put you in with Wynne," Fearghal told him, smiling.

"Yes, well, I didn't bloody know," grumbled Alistair. "I've never been on a boat before."

"Ah. Some people get used to it, although I doubt we'll be on this boat long enough. Having said that, Fergus never did." Fearghal laughed. "He apparently puked all the way to Antiva and all the way back again. It's a wonder Oriana didn't get on the next boat home."

Alistair smiled weakly. He noticed that Fearghal was talking more and more about his family. Not just about what had happened when Howe had attacked Castle Cousland, but little anecdotes just dropped into conversation. At first he would catch himself, as if he'd slipped up somehow, but since the Gauntlet he'd started to open up more.

"When we sparred yesterday, you said something afterwards, about having 'buggered up Fenwick's sweepstake.' What did you mean?"

Fearghal leaned on the rail and looked out over the water. For a moment, Alistair didn't think he was going to answer the question.

"It... it was just something silly we had going at home. Rory... I was the only warrior he couldn't beat. He came close, many times; Fenwick started running a sweepstake every time we sparred. We could both beat everyone else, but he'd never beaten me." Fearghal laughed softly. "Up until yesterday, no-one had beaten me for a long time."

Alistair stole a sideways glance at Fearghal but detected no rancour, just a sad smile. "He must have been very good; I know that Duncan went to Highever to test him. He wouldn't have considered him, otherwise."

"He was good. I didn't understand for a long time why he couldn't beat me. I saw him easily best men I struggled to beat."

"Why, then? Are you saying he let you win?"

"No. It was just... " Fearghal stopped, looking abashed. "When I fight, it doesn't matter who I fight... once I start, my blood's up. I'll keep going until I either win or lose... or until I drop."

Alistair nodded, remembering the first time they'd sparred; how Fearghal had kept coming at him until they were both exhausted.

"Rory was different. More like you, I suppose. His style was always more defensive, like yours; he always kept a cooler head when he was fighting. It's not that he couldn't fight like I do; I've seen him do it... just never against me, maybe because... "

'Because he loved you,' thought Alistair.

"Anyway, you beating me would seriously have buggered up Fenwick's sweepstake." Fearghal straightened and looked at Alistair. "You look a little less green. Keep that, for now." Fearghal gestured at the water skin in Alistair's hand then went and sat himself on the opposite side of the boat, leaning against Bane. It was clear that the conversation was over.

Alistair watched as Fearghal tilted his face up to the sun and closed his eyes. Alistair didn't think for a moment that Fearghal was going to sleep. From the look on his face, a mixture of sadness and longing, he was probably revisiting old memories.

~o~O~o~

They had landed at the northern shore of the lake later that same afternoon and camped near the water's edge, then set off towards the Frostbacks the next morning. That night, Fearghal and Zevran had finished their watch. Fearghal stripped off his armour before crawling into the tent where Alistair lay sleeping. He piled his armour up as quietly as he could and crawled onto his bedroll, pulling his blankets tightly around him; he hardly dared go to sleep. Last night, after talking to Alistair on the boat, his dreams had been full of Rory. Not nightmares, but vivid, erotic dreams. He'd woken, aching and aroused, and it had been like losing Rory all over again. He missed him in so many ways. He knew he'd been like a bear with a sore head all day.

Alistair had been his usual patient self, refusing to be fazed by Fearghal's bad temper. Fearghal shuffled, trying to get comfortable. Alistair had made it quite clear in the past that he was willing to listen, if Fearghal wanted to talk, but Fearghal didn't feel he could talk to Alistair about Rory. Alistair would probably burst a blood vessel if Fearghal started to talk about how he missed his lover. Not just the closeness, the companionship they'd shared, but being held, being touched... all of it. They'd only had eleven months together, but in that time, Rory had become such an important part of his life; he'd left a huge hole that Fearghal didn't have the first idea how to fill.

Fearghal turned over, thumping his pillow, irritably. He heard Alistair stir at the side of him and froze.

"Wha's the matter?" Alistair's voice was thick with sleep.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, Alistair." He heard Alistair shuffling on his bedroll.

"You've been grumpy all day. What's bothering you? Is it... because of what I asked you, yesterday?"

"No... well, it's just..." Fearghal rolled on to his back and sighed. "Just go back to sleep, Alistair."

"You never talk about him... Rory, I mean. You talk about your family, but not... I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked, if I'd realised it would upset you so much."

"I know. It doesn't matter, Alistair. He's harder to talk about... some of the things I miss about him, well, let's just say they're private."

"Ah."

In spite of himself, Fearghal had to smile; his virginal 'brother' managed to convey so much embarrassment in one tiny word.

"Are you blushing, Alistair?"

"Probably," mumbled Alistair.

"Then go back to sleep." There was a long silence, before Fearghal heard Alistair clear his throat awkwardly.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Like I've said before, you can ask but I might not answer," replied Fearghal warily.

"Well, if it's partly that you miss that, then why not... um... sleep in Zevran's tent?"

"He's not my type," said Fearghal.

"That's what he said you said, but then, like I said to him, he was your type in Denerim."

"Pardon?" said Fearghal faintly, his mind boggling as he tried to unravel what Alistair had just said.

"I said... "

"No, please, don't repeat it. I think I understood what you said; if you say it again, I'll just get confused." Fearghal pulled his blanket tighter around him. "It's like I told you, it was just a moment. It's gone, done."

"Well, what's to stop you having another moment? It might make you feel better."

Fearghal couldn't help chuckling. "Well, I suppose it's not completely out of the question, but it's unlikely. Moments should be just that. If you try to re-create them, it becomes something different."

"Is that how it started with Rory?"

"No." It was on the tip of Fearghal's tongue to tell Alistair how he'd pined after Rory for over a year, but the words stuck in his throat.

"But he was your type?"

"Obviously."

"So what is that?" Alistair's couldn't hide the curiosity in his voice. "Red hair? Green eyes? Warriors... "

Fearghal could hear the realisation in his voice. It wasn't warriors per se, but it was that physical type that aroused his interest. Oh, shit! He'll be fretting now that I fancy him. Fearghal ignored the other voice in his head that was whispering, 'But you do.' He'd always made a point of not forcing his attentions where they were clearly unwelcome.

"Don't panic, Alistair. You'll be relieved to know that my lovers have included blacksmiths, grooms and sailors; very few warriors, in fact. Your virginity is quite safe with me." Fearghal strove to keep his tone light.

"That's good to know," came the dry reply in the darkness.

Fearghal's burgeoning friendship with Alistair was so new, felt so fragile, he didn't want to do or say anything that would jeopardise it; he was startled to realise how important it had become to him, in such a short space of time. Alistair's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions?" asked Fearghal, chuckling.

"Well, we're brothers, right? Who else should I ask? I bet you asked Fergus about this sort of thing!"

Fearghal could hear the grin in Alistair's voice, even though it was too dark to see. He turned onto his side, so that he faced Alistair. He was unexpectedly touched; he could remember having these sorts of conversations with Fergus, although he'd been much younger than Alistair; then again he hadn't been shut away in a monastery when he was ten years old.

"This sort of thing?" Fearghal groaned. "Go on, do your worst. Ask."

"Well... how did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That...er... you liked... um... didn't like girls."

"The same way that know you do like them," replied Fearghal, laughing. "I rarely felt a flicker of interest in girls, but boys, well, let's just say that my interest made itself fairly obvious, embarrassingly so, on occasion." Fearghal thought about it for a moment. "Once I started getting interested in sex, it was always with boys. The first crush I ever had was on a boy. You must know what it's like, even living in the chantry."

"Huh, we had a few elderly sisters. They weren't likely to set anyone's pulse racing."

"So who did set your pulse racing?" It was Fearghal's turn to be curious. "You must have had a crush on someone. at some point, even with your upbringing."

"Well, yes... but it was a long time ago. To be honest, I tried not to think about it... I mean, there was no point, was there?"

"I suppose not." Fearghal was quiet for a moment, trying to imagine growing up, believing you were destined never to have sex. "Anyway, there's your answer. If you get crushes on boys, you like boys, whereas if you go weak at the knees for a pretty face and curves, then you like girls. Simple really."

"But you never thought it was... wrong?" Alistair's voice was hesitant.

"Wrong? Why would I?" Fearghal was astonished. "Even the Chantry has nothing much to say on it, which is quite remarkable, given they've got an opinion on everything else. I think I was more worried in the end that it would make things more difficult with my parents."

"How come?"

"Well, they wanted to arrange a marriage for me. It's all about alliances and so on." Fearghal paused, remembering the embarrassing conversation he'd had with his father. "I mean they knew, of course, but I think they thought it was a phase, something I'd grow out of and even if I didn't, well, there's more than one married nobleman that would rather be in the company of his groom than his wife, if you know what I mean.

"To be honest, I never thought much about it myself, until Rory. Maybe, if I'd been married first, it would have been different, I'd have just tried to make the best of it, lived a double life but... I just didn't want to go into something like that, knowing it would be a lie, right from the start."

Fearghal yawned. "Was there anything else you wanted to know? Can I go to sleep now?"

"Sorry. Good night, Fearghal."

"G'night."