The small group of thirty odd riders huddled around the camp fire as their horses grazed at what little grass remained on the blighted land. They were still more than a day's ride from Redcliffe and Alistair had been keen to press on but the horses were spent and Riordan had persuaded him to call a halt to allow the animals a brief time to rest.

Alistair sat a little way apart from the others. It had been a welcome diversion being on the road. The constant movement and shared sense of purpose had helped to maintain his focus on the task at hand. But now the change in pace gave him more time to think. Alistair pushed away the thoughts of her which tried to rush into his head.

Not now.

The pain was there. A constant ache. But its continuous presence prevented him from becoming overwhelmed by the near impossibility of the task which lay ahead. The pain provided a reason to accept either outcome; in death he would not have to confront the reality of his future without Elissa. Although Morrigan's ritual would guard against the sacrifice required for killing the Archdemon, there was no guarantee that either he or Riordan would even reach the creature. But at the same time, the pain would ensure that even if he survived then he would never be able to forget how he felt for her. Either way, there was nothing more to be done about it until after the battle.

Wynne approached him, a lump of bread offered in her outstretched hand as means of a question. Alistair accepted it with a smile and she took it as an invitation to join him. They sat in silence as the sounds of the men talking amongst one another drifted over to them.

"He makes it look so effortless." Alistair spoke at last.

His gaze rested on Riordan as the elder Warden moved between the men, sharing a word or two with each as he did so. Each of these men were experienced soldiers, handpicked by their Arls to accompany their soon-to-be King to defend against a legendary Archdemon. It was doubtful if any of them were unaware of where their death now lay. And yet none had wavered. Alistair wondered if he would ever be capable of rallying the men in the same way.

Wynne smiled and patted his knee. "As will you, with practice."

He shook his head. He had been too much in awe of Duncan to take notice of how he had managed the Wardens. And his attention had been otherwise occupied with regards to how Elissa had approached the task. Now he was left to work it out alone.

"It will not be as difficult as you think," Wynne continued. "It is true they trust Riordan but it is only because they see that you trust him. They look to you for guidance."

Alistair let out a deep breath. As much as he wanted to be a good King, he wasn't sure what guidance he could offer.

"That you are here with them is enough." Wynne seemed to read his thoughts.

For the second time, the words came to him but this time they were easier to say. "My place is here."

"Yes, it is. And I thank you for realising it."

Alistair was quiet as he absorbed the hidden meaning in the intonation of her words. He recalled Leliana's comment about his inability to lie. It seemed that none of the members of their small party had been fooled.

They feel into silence once more but it felt more strained than the companionable one they had shared only minutes before.

"I depended on her," Alistair finally spoke in a manner similar to a confession. "Too much."

"Yes."

The bluntness of the answer smarted and Alistair's relaxed posture stiffened despite himself. There was a stir among the men as they responded to the change in manner between the pair. It seemed Wynne had been correct when she suggested that they took their lead from him. The mage stood and made a pretence of smoothing her robes and the unease that had crept into the group of men dissipated as it became clear that there was no real cause for concern.

As she straightened, Wynne caught his gaze. Alistair liked and respected the elder mage but he sensed from her expression that he was not about to appreciate her next statement.

"Elissa is your weakness. You are stronger for being apart from her."

Wynne turned and walked away and he was left to contemplate her words. The thought had never crossed his mind and Wynne's matter of fact tone only seemed to add to the sense of disloyalty that such a statement seemed to hold.

"Tis true."

Alistair had known that Morrigan was nearby although he had not realised that she had been listening. She had not spoken to him since the morning but throughout the journey she had never strayed too far from him. Never acknowledging him but always there, he had begun to wonder whether she considered herself as his guard or his jailor.

The Witch moved out of the shadows that lay behind and stood next to him. The bitterness he was not able to level at Wynne, he now directed at her.

"You're a bitch."

Morrigan made an impatient sound. "I do not say it to torment you Alistair. The pity is that the thought of tormenting you no longer gives me much pleasure."

He was prevented from responding by the arrival of Riordan. Finished with speaking to the men, he was now intent on speaking with Alistair. Morrigan retreated back into the shadows and Alistair was left to try and cool the surge of temper which threatened to overspill from him.

"Alistair, may we speak?" Riordan addressed him with a respectful nod.

"Yes, of course." Alistair got to his feet in the hopes that the movement would give him a few seconds to collect himself.

"The call of the taint. What do you feel?"

Alistair frowned. "I can sense darkspawn but that's no surprise."

"What else?"

"What else should there be?"

Riordan shook his head. "It's not strong enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Even without being directly in Redcliffe, the taint should feel overwhelming if the Archdemon is near."

"Are you suggesting it's not here?"

The elder Warden shook his head as he looked out towards the darkness beyond the fire. "I don't know. But something is not right."

"We need to reach Redcliffe."

Riordan gave a slow nod. "Yes. But come, you need rest as much as the others. We will leave in a few hours."

As the two men returned to the protection of the group, a cloud drifted in front of the moon. Only the flickering light of the camp fire stood out in the darkness which followed.