The horses had been turned loose. The remaining companions summoned to his side. And Alistair stood at the head of his army. Yet despite being almost at their heels, the darkspawn attack on Denerim was relentless. Small groups had broken away and were headed towards them but the Horde appeared mostly unconcerned by either the presence or proximity of the army. It was a confidence borne from sheer numbers rather than tactical advantage but the truth was still there. The route to the city gates was overwhelmed and it would take a substantial number of lives to carve a path through. Alistair knew it. The army knew it. And so did the Horde.

And somewhere amongst it all was Elissa. At least he found he had to believe she still was otherwise for him it was all for nothing.

The fragmented groups of darkspawn which had broken away from the main Horde were fast covering what little ground remained between them and the army. The chattering in Alistair's head had developed into an impenetrable wall of noise. A glance at Riordan suggested he was also fighting to maintain control over the constant barrage of clamour from the taint.

Alistair swallowed as he was confronted by the reality of the cost of the battle ahead of him. The lives behind him were forfeit on his order. It was a decision Elissa had faced many times over. Too many times and too often alone. Now as he prepared to make the same decisions, he realised too late what she had needed from him. She was his everything and in his inexperience he had assumed that love superseded all else. But before he had come to love her, he had been her friend. And it was the enduring support of that friendship which he missed most right now.

Of all the longings he had suffered since she had left, the most excruciating was the desire to simply have her at his side. To have the easy comfort that came from her being near him. To feel the inner sense of peace at her presence. To experience from her closeness the clarity and confidence to go forward. There may have been truth to Riordan's words that Elissa had seen something in him that he was still to fully realise himself. But Alistair knew that he had no incentive to be the person she could see if it meant being without her. He had thought he could. Had thought his sense of duty could sustain him. Had thought the brief glimpse of who he could be which she had enabled him to see was someone he could achieve alone. It was true that he could function without her and could act on the qualities she had already unearthed in him. But always Elissa would remain the catalyst for any further potential that lay within him. He was better for being at her side.

And Ferelden was better for having her fighting for its side.

As Alistair began to falter, the hair on the back of his neck started to rise. There was no specific sound that he could determine, surrounded as they were by the din of squeals and shrieks from the Horde, and yet he found himself standing a little taller as if he had found a small reserve of unspent courage. His reaction was mirrored by his companions as each straightened with their own sense of purpose visibly renewed. One by one, each tore their gaze from the sight in front of them and looked to Alistair.

The scattered darkspawn were drawn towards the taint in Alistair and Riordan and rushed the remaining distance that lay between them and the two Grey Wardens. With no finesse, Alistair took one step forward and thrust his sword into the lead shriek. The Warden gave a grunt as he twisted the blade in the creature before wrenching it back out. It dropped to the ground with a howl and its blood sprayed across his armour. Alistair stared down at it as it writhed at his feet before raising his sword once more and ending its suffering.

The action broke the last remnants of reverie from the others around him and the remaining straggling darkspawn were dispatched with a smooth efficiency.

It was time.

Alistair pulled his helmet over his head and raised his arm in preparation for the signal to attack. As he gave one final lingering look along the city walls, that same familiar hint of a sound in his ears, his imagination convinced him that there was a flash of red hair high among the grey stone battlements.

It was in that moment that the arrows began to rain down.

Hesitant at first, it was as though Leliana was being reacquainted with a long forgotten friend. As the lyrics continued to trip off her tongue, the melody she sang began to grow in volume as she regained the confidence in her abilities. Her skill with a bow had often meant Elissa disregarded the Bard's other talents and it had been some time since she had sung in a manner intended to motivate troops mid-battle.

The song seemed to float out and wrap itself around each hurriedly-assembled archer and Leliana watched as each man's arm was drawn back a little further and the creak of straining bows provided a bass tone amongst the other notes she continued to sing.

Alftsanna barked out an order and the arrows flew through the air in perfect arcs, striking down on the darkspawn below. The creatures were divided between continuing to siege the gates and instinctively defending themselves from the attack above. They began to scatter and the noblewoman continued to shout orders to direct the firing range closer to the gates.

For a moment the army appeared to freeze at the unexpected assistance but once understanding the opportunity being presented to them, they seized on it. Regiments split themselves into smaller manageable groups as the elves and mages provided additional support from behind while dwarves and men continued to push forward towards the gates.

Alfstanna shouted for hold and the arrows ceased as the first few ranks of the army reached the gates and were too close to the walls for the archers to provide additional support. Each man reloaded and trained their bows on the seething mass below, waiting for either the next regiment to advance or the swell of the darkspawn against those already at the gates; whichever came sooner.

As the gates were breached by the army, the darkspawn began to refocus their efforts on the groups now stranded further from the city. The instruction for the archers to continue came as the elves and mages became beset by the creatures. All the while Leliana continued to sing and the growing success of the tactic she had advocated led her voice to ring out with even greater conviction. In turn the confidence of the archers continued to develop and the resumed onslaught of arrows forced the darkspawn back from the elves and mages.

As some of the Redcliffe men backtracked to assist, the archers were once again ordered to stay their firing. Leliana peered over the battlements in an attempt to locate familiar figures amongst the troops but it was near impossible to distinguish one person from another amidst the disorder which swirled below. All she could hope was that those dearest to her had reached the relative safety of the city gates.

There was a sudden change in tension along the battlements despite the Bard's continuing rallying efforts and Leliana glanced towards Alfstanna as she sensed it. An uneasy panic had begun to pervade throughout the archers and the noblewoman let out a curse as she dropped her own bow and ran down the line of men towards Sighard. There was a fast and furious discussion as the two nobles bowed their heads together before Alfstanna straightened, snapping out orders along the line as she returned to her initial position.

"We only have enough arrows for one more assault," she muttered to Leliana as the Bard broke off her song.

Leliana cast a look back out over the battlefield in front of her. The elves and mages were still only creeping towards the gate despite the additional protection from the Redcliffe men. Although the army had seemed such an insignificant number for the grave threat which faced Ferelden, it now seemed far too many. Without the aerial defence, those left outside the city walls would have to fend for themselves against the fate of a brutal death.

Alfstanna primed her bow for her next shot and gave an expectant look to the archer beside her. As the man followed her lead and the man next to him followed his, she turned back to Leliana.

"Once the arrows are spent then you must seek out the King. The Grey Warden will require his assistance."

The Bard gave a short nod and her voice surged forth again as the order was given for the men to use all arrows at their disposal. Denerim could offer no further aid to its army after this. But due to the intervention of both the archers and the Redcliffe men, the elves and mages were moving ever closer to the gates. The arrows rained down behind the group while the soldiers cut a path through the darkspawn ahead of them. As the arrows grew increasingly sparser, the last of the group were all that was visible from the line of sight offered by the battlements.

Screams, yells and screeches merged into one unintelligible din in courtyard behind as the fight began in earnest. The darkspawn which had spilled through the gates alongside the army were now attacking those around them. Alfstanna and Sighard started to order their men back down to the courtyard to aid with the hand to hand combat.

The noblewoman turned back towards Leliana and gave her a curt nod. "Good luck, Sister."

As Leliana bolted from her position towards the courtyard, Alfstanna trained her last arrow on the throng outside the city walls. She let the arrow fly with a murmured prayer.

"Maker protect you and yours."

Alistair found himself swept along by the influx of soldiers and darkspawn through the gates of Denerim and into the inner courtyard of the city. All tactics had dissipated from the mix of men, elves and dwarves as hand to hand combat became a fight for survival in the chaos which ensued.

He caught a glimpse of Morrigan off to one side with Wynne not far behind her. The older mage had kept her promise and was keeping close to the Witch, acting as a support to Morrigan's more aggressive spells. Sten and Riordan were also holding their own some way behind him but he was yet to catch sight of Oghren or Shale.

As various darkspawn launched at him, Alistair was forced to defend himself and allow the others to look to their own protection. Distracted as he was by the continual assault, he would have overlooked the figure of Leliana as she climbed down from the battlements of the city walls were it not for one small detail.

The woman was dressed in Chantry robes.

It was one thing for her to believe the Maker had given specific direction to her life. It was quite another to believe His intervention extended to the defensive capacities of the robes of his disciples.

Ducking and weaving through the darkspawn, the rational part of his mind knew it was absurd to focus on such a trivial detail. He knew there would be a sufficient explanation why the Bard had chosen to abandon her armour. And not just any armour but the armour Elissa had spent months sourcing. He also reminded himself that this was the same woman who had kept her promise to him, had brought Elissa back and for that reason alone she would always hold a special place in his heart. But Maker as his witness, he surely had enough to contend with at the moment without having to account for Leliana's damned eccentricities.

As the Bard jumped down from the ladder, he saw as she turned to survey the commotion around her. She made to move in a general direction but staggered and her hands flew to her head as her expression became a grimace. He realised it was a reaction to her rogue senses becoming overwhelmed by being immersed in the fighting.

Alistair began to force his way towards her as her robes marked her out to more than just him. He broke into a run as he saw the hurlock advance on her from behind. Hacking at anything which got in his way, his focus narrowed so that all he could see was the red-haired woman seemingly too far from him. No longer intent on killing the darkspawn around him, he strove to reach her before any harm could come to her.

The mace was already flying in an arc towards her head as he slammed into the hurlock with his shield, sliding on the ground already slick with blood and gore. Deflecting any remaining force from the creature's weapon with his shield, he followed through with his sword and sliced through its stomach. Gathering his footing once more, he kicked at the thing and forced it to stagger backwards and away from them. Satisfied it was too severely injured to attempt another assault, Alistair whirled round to check on Leliana.

Relief at no obvious signs of injury on the woman manifested itself in an uncontrollable burst of anger. He loomed over her as he spat the question. "Chantry robes? Really?"

Leliana blinked at him with no hint of recognition as she glanced between the dying hurlock and the indistinguishable armoured soldier in front of her. She seemed more bemused than intimidated by his behaviour. With an impatient grunt, Alistair partially sheathed his sword before wrenching his helmet from his head. He chucked it on the ground and fixed an accusatory glare on her, still intent on gathering an explanation for her current clothing.

It took only a brief second for the Bard to gather her thoughts at the unexpected appearance of the very man she was seeking. Without warning she threw her arms around his neck even bathed in sweat as it was and kissed him full on the mouth. Alistair staggered backwards from the momentum with which she flung herself at him before shooting her a dirty if cross-eyed look as they came to a stop almost nose to nose. Leliana let out an infectious giggle and he felt his fury, rational or otherwise, evaporate. And despite being surrounded as they were by death and destruction, he felt a grin spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around her as best he could and kissed her cheek in return before he steadied her back onto her feet.

There was a familiar mischievous glint in her eye as she finally responded to his question. "Just as the Maker brought me to you when you needed me most, his robes brought you to me when I needed you most."

Alistair gave her another dirty look as he shoved her behind him and grabbed for his sword to defend them both against a genlock. It was a suitable distraction because the question he really wanted to ask he found himself unable to voice for fear of the answer it might bring. But with the genlock following the same fate of the hurlock, a simple look back at Leliana was enough. The sense of playful fun vanished from her expression as she translated the question in his gaze. "Zevran is watching over her in the Chantry. She needs Wynne."

He could hear the unspoken implication in the Bard's words. He picked up the darkspawn blade that had had fallen at his feet and pushed it into her hand, doubting very much that even as talented a rogue as Leliana was capable of hiding much weaponry under those robes. He hustled her close to his side so that she was better protected as well as obscured by his shield before searching through the confusion around him. Although the darkspawn numbers were becoming fewer, it was also apparent that the army had not escaped unscathed. Fewer casualties than he had feared when first looking out across the Horde, it was impossible not to notice the numbers he led were much reduced. Most noticeable was the conspicuous absence of Shale although he could now spy Oghren towards the far end of the courtyard. Alistair brushed aside the lurch in his stomach. Reflection and soul-searching on fallen comrades was an indulgence he could ill-afford at this time. For the moment, it only mattered that he found the mage and apostate. At last his eyes settled on Wynne, still working in tandem with Morrigan near the gates.

But before he could guide Leliana in their direction, Riordan intercepted him. The Senior Warden was breathing heavily and spattered with blood. His agitation seeped through his body language even while he maintained his normal reticent expression.

"Alistair. The gates will not hold. We need to push through the city."

"Give me a minute..."

"There is no time!" the older Warden gritted his teeth, his patience frayed beyond repair. "Can you sense them?"

"Them?"

"The Generals." A quick check of Alistair's blank expression confirmed Riordan's suspicions that the younger Warden had no idea. "There are two Generals helping to coordinate the attack within the city. The walls must have been breached elsewhere while our attention was kept on the gates."

Alistair felt as Leliana tensed under his arm and in an instant he knew the location of at least one of the Generals.

"The marketplace?" he asked only for confirmation.

"And the Alienage, as far as I can tell," Riordan rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. "They have to be defeated before an attack can be made on the Archdemon."

"Zevran mentioned ogres," Leliana murmured to Alistair causing him to swear under his breath. He was so close to finding his way back to Elissa that he was damned if ogres were going to stop him now.

Riordan overheard the curse and saw the look which passed between Bard and younger Warden. Memories of long past whispers in the night, long forgotten caresses, long dissipated warmth from another body over-rode the Senior Warden's better judgement. There may have been truth in Wynne's warnings but Alistair deserved the chance to make right what he still seemed to see as his wrong. It made little difference which General was defeated by whom and the desire to lay waste to all that stood between him and Elissa which was plainly written across Alistair's face would be as good an incentive than anything else Riordan could offer.

"I will accompany Sten and a small group to the Alienage," the Senior Warden announced. "While Sten is distracting the General, I will press on and attempt to disable the Archdemon. You take the Marketplace and then head for Fort Drakon. I will bring the creature down on the rooftop and we will fight it there."

Alistair nodded and without the distraction of a further separation from Elissa, he regained his ability for strategic thought. "If there are ogres near the marketplace then I'll take the dwarves."

"I will take the elves. They may inspire further support amongst their own people," Riordan also gave a nod in agreement.

"The Redcliffe men and Circle mages can remain with the City Guard for the moment."

"We will leave instructions that they respond to a summons if needed," Riordan clasped the younger Warden by the shoulder and gave him a small shake. "Good luck. Remember, the rooftop."

"The rooftop," Alistair echoed before Riordan turned away from him, shouting in the direction of the nearest elves.

Neither Grey Warden faltered as each went to his separate fate.