Disclaimer: Bioware and EA own Dragon Age. I own these hideous pink sweatpants. They were the only ones left in my size! I look like a 'pink nightmare' in them. =D

A/N: Guys, I really have no excuse for abandoning this fic for so long. I just lost my mojo for it or something. Regardless, I finally sat down and penned this chapter, and I hope some of my faithful readers are still around to enjoy it. Again, thanks to the silent readers, reviewers and those who've fave'd. Ya'll are my raison d'être *hugs and kisses* Oh and by the way, the horrible wording/slurring at the end of the chapter is entirely intentional.

When I wake the next morning, Alistair has an arm wrapped snugly around my waist and he's snoring softly into my ear. I smile and think back over the past weeks. If anyone had told me that I'd be in love once again, and with the king no less, I'd've told them they'd gone off the deep end. I'd completely resigned myself to living out an existence of anonymity. Now I'm pretty sure such a fate is impossible.

Ahh, Aedan, it figures you'd be the one to toss a bucking bronto into my well formed plans.

Alistair murmurs something unintelligible in his sleep and smacks his lips a few times. He draws me closer to him, which results in my rear making direct contact with his quite-over-hard cock. This is definitely something I could get used to. I wiggle my arse against him playfully, and he lets out a moan.

"Minx!" he groans into my hair, his voice thick with sleep.

I crane my neck to gaze at him over my shoulder, a cheeky grin playing across my lips. "Is it my fault you wake up in such a state? I'm merely taking advantage of the situation."

"By all means, don't let me stop you," he murmurs huskily. He doesn't need to ask twice. I gladly roll on top of him, our bodies melding into one within seconds. He's become an extension of my being. I don't fancy myself the poetic type, but in this moment I swear that sonnets could spill from my lips with relative ease. I am undone by his smile, his eyes, his every movement.

This is where I'm meant to be.

The Warden-Commander is already waiting for us when we enter the dining hall. Thankfully the other Wardens aren't present. Being in another room with Anders and Nathaniel just isn't something I want to have to deal with so early in the morning.

I take a seat next to Alistair and opposite the Commander. It's only my second time seeing the man and I must admit, he does paint an interesting portrait. On the one hand, he sits casually in his chair, giving off an air of nonchalance. At the same time it's quite obvious to any trained fighter that he's primed for battle, ready to strike at any given moment. "Good morning, your Ladyship," he says by way of greeting. "I hope you found the accommodations to your liking?"

My little bath escapades with Alistair rise to the forefront of my brain, and I try desperately not to turn the same shade as a beet. For one, it's not my best colour. "Yes, everything was wonderful. Thank you for your hospitality."

The Commander waves his hand dismissively. "Think nothing of it." He clears his throat and continues. "The king and I were discussing a mutual problem we seem to be facing."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh? And what pray tell is our 'mutual problem'?"

He leans back in his chair and shoots me a winning grin. "Why, Bann Esmerelle of course. Not only has she been trying to have you killed, she's also been meeting with several nobles in secret in order to plot my own demise."

Wow, old rat faced Esmerelle certainly gets around. I've always known the nobles to be a slimy sort, but to resort to such extreme measures? I suppose the person to coin the phrase "absolute power corrupts absolutely" had Bann Esmerelle in mind. "What do you plan on doing about it?" I ask.

Commander Caron smirks at us. "Nothing."

Wait…what? "What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

He shrugs his broad shoulders, continuing with his guise of nonchalance. "I am smoking her out. I've already dispatched several of her co-conspirators. Once she learns of their fate, I fully expect her to panic and make a move on Vigil's Keep."

"I see…" I certainly hope this guy knows what he's doing. His plan does make sense - having Esmerelle make the first move against him will undoubtedly tip her hand in his favour. On the other hand, the Commander risks civil unrest should he leave the issue unattended. Who knows how many other people Esmerelle could have poisoned?

"I think your plan is sound, however what are we to do in the meantime?" Alistair asks.

"You may stay at the Keep for as long as you wish," the Commander replies. "You'll no doubt find plenty to do to occupy your time," he winks at me knowingly, which makes me bristle, which in turn makes me feel foolish for reacting like a silly chit. When did I suddenly become so bloody sensitive?

Once we've finished discussing other more mundane issues, we heap our plates at the sideboard and begin shoveling the food into our mouths. It isn't until Commander Caron is finished that he notices the mountain of eggs and back bacon I'd served myself. "Are you sure you're not a Grey Warden, Lady Elissa?"

"No, why?" I respond, my mouth full of half chewed pork. Alistair chuckles at my confusion. "What? What's so funny?"

"Is it true his father had your entire family killed?"

I glance up from the book I'd been flipping through and find myself face to face (well, almost, given the height difference) with the Legion dwarf. I frown and snap the book shut. "I take it you're referring to Nathaniel. Why do you want to know?"

She bites her lip nervously. "Well, we do work together, and I want to know if I can…"

"Trust him?"

She nods and looks away, avoiding my gaze.

"Yes, his father did have my entire family killed. It seems he was tired of having to answer to my father. Rendon Howe was an evil little man, and I find it most fitting that my brother was the one to end his miserable life," I reply coldly. "As far as Nathaniel is concerned, I can only imagine that the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

The dwarf glances up at me, her expression that of confusion. "I just don't understand…Nate seems like an honorable person, not one to betray his comrades."

I shrug. "You asked my opinion and I gave it. I'm sorry if my answer isn't what you wanted to hear."

"No, that's fine. I guess I was hoping that I'd heard wrong…but I do think you're misjudging Nate."

"What, are the two of you lovers or something?" I ask caustically. By the way her face heats up I can tell I've hit the mark. "Oh, Maker, isn't that rich! Howe's managed to sweet talk his way into your smalls. Don't be surprised if he stabs you in the back while you're in the midst of rutting."

Anger blooms on the dwarf's face and her eyes narrow into slits. "You may think that you're above any sort of attack here, but if you haven't already noticed, I'm a member of the Legion – which means by dwarven standards I'm already dead. I understand your hatred for Nate, but if you dare insult what we have together ever again-"

"Leave it be, Sigrun," comes a voice from behind me. "She has every right to feel the way she does."

I turn my head and find Nathaniel leaning against the wall behind the chair I'd been sitting in. How in the world did he manage that trick? My lips draw back from my teeth in a feral snarl. "Howe. What do you want? Looking to finish the job your dear old daddy started? I guarantee my blades will never be fully sated until your disgusting blood coats them. "

Sigrun takes a threatening step forward, but Nathaniel halts her with a simple gesture. "I have no desire to kill you, Elissa. I had no idea of what my father had planned. If I'd known I would have done something to stop him."

"Easy for you to say now that your father is dead; if he'd survived you'd probably be denouncing my father as a traitor to the king," I snap.

"Do you honestly believe that, Elissa? After all the time we spent together as children, did I really seem the type to blindly follow my father around and ignore my values and ideals?" Nathaniel asks.

I frown and chew on the inside of my cheek. Truth to be told, Nathaniel always had been the one to defend the servants if they accidentally broke something, or didn't clean the house properly. He'd usually get quite a walloping as a result, too. "No…Thomas was the spineless one. Before I left it seemed like he was always drunk. Your father even went so far as to propose a possible match between your brother and I. Needless to say, he went away in a decidedly wretched mood."

"You see? I would not have had any part in your family's demise. Right now I'm trying my damndest just to rebuild my family's name," Nathaniel responds.

My brow creases in consternation. "Look, I don't know what to think, and it would seem I have more important things to worry about than the possibility of you slitting my throat. For now, I'm going to my room to relax."

I stalk out of the study and head toward my bedroom. On the way I pass by an elven servant and ask him if he can have some food and wine brought up to my chambers. He immediately sets off on his task. As I step into my sleeping quarters I can't help but notice for a second time just how comfortable they are. I flop down on the large bed and exhale loudly. My stomach follows my exhalation with a bit of rumbling, and I'm thankful that I'd asked for some food. Dinner probably won't be for a while, and I need something to tide me over. Several minutes go by and eventually I hear a knock at my door. "Who is it?" I call out.

"Just bringin' ya up yer food, milady," comes the reply.

I hop off my bed, march over to the door and swing it open. An older woman is on the other side holding a tray of cheese, bread and fruit. There is also a wine decanter on the tray as well as a steel goblet. I take the tray from her and smile appreciatively. "Thank you, ma'am." I balance the tray on one arm while I dig around in my pouch for a couple of silvers, which I slide her way. She shoots me a grateful grin and hobbles off. I close the door behind me and set the tray on the table in my room. I rub my hands together in anticipation at the prospect of my mini feast. I start by pouring myself a bit of wine, and then break off a piece of crusty bread. The bread is delicious and the wine is obviously of superior quality. I take several more sips and start in on the cheese. As is my usual reaction when eating cheese, my eyes roll back into my head and I moan with pleasure. I continue to eat and go over the conversation I'd had with Nathaniel. After a goblet of wine I've decided that perhaps he's telling the truth. I also can't help but start picturing he and Sigrun doing the nasty, which prompts a fit of giggles. Normally such an image would more likely to turn me on than amuse me, so I'm surprised at my sudden hysteria. I set down my goblet so as not to spill any of its contents, and I notice that the room has grown rather spinny. In fact, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open. I rise to my feet, but my legs just don't seem to work. How odd.

"Whazza? Whaz goin…." I'm slurring, that for sure. But how can be when only one glass wine? Normly take three no wait four to do me in…

I stumble forward…take one step…then falling…pain erupts…nothing.