The Warden-Commander paced the room in the hope that the basic repetitive movement might help to shake loose some of the questions that had massed in his head. Torih was leaning against the wall, his head rolling from side to side as he watched his Commander. Each length the dwarf paced prompted an ever more audible sigh until Argarth was forced to acknowledge his Second's presence.

"Thoughts, Torih?"

"About?"

The dwarf shot his Second a thinly veiled look. His patience often correlated with the contents of his hip flask and that particular item had been roughly discarded upon the discovery that it was empty. "The part played by the healer."

"You are asking whether I believe that the tainted soul of the demon passed into the Fade?"

Ancestors help him, what he would not give for good dwarven ale. Earthy and full-bodied.

"I am asking whether you think it is a possibility," the dwarf corrected.

"Of the four who have previously defeated an Archdemon, I do not recall that any possessed the skills of a healer or were healed so extensively immediately prior to the final blow. It may be that this situation is one that has simply not been encountered before."

"But?"

"I am not certain of this. The knowledge of the Circle mages would be invaluable."

Argarth grunted and shook his head. The insistence from Torih towards consulting the mages had swiftly become the main contributory factor towards his dwindling reserves of patience. As a result it was with no small amount of derision that he was forced to approach the carafe of wine which had accompanied the tray of food. Sniffing it, the dwarf's face contorted into one of disgust but anticipating the elf's response to his next comment, he decided that wine was better than nothing and poured a generous amount into the cup.

"I have enough to contend with. I have no intention of involving myself in the troubles of the mages."

Torih cursed beneath his breath. "You cannot suggest that we believe her account without verification?"

"You have been unable to find another explanation."

"But that does not mean that this explanation is valid!" Torih pushed himself off the wall as he became caught up in his argument. "Human theology would seem to suggest that such a solution is problematic. The tainted soul could not be returned to the Fade without some repercussion."

Argarth sucked the wine through his teeth before swallowing the liquid with a hiss. The amusement that he had provoked such a reaction from his Second helped to sweeten the dryness of the wine. "How much faith do you place in human theology, Torih?"

"We are dealing with the survival of a Grey Warden who has defeated an Archdemon. We do not have the luxury of dismissing such things, Commander."

"Enough, Torih," Argarth signalled that he was not interested in lectures. "I have no intention of not following this through however we are limited in what we can achieve at the moment."

"But whatever occurred means that Cousland is of value to us."

"Exactly."

The elf visibly settled within himself as he followed his Commander's logic. "Then it would appear we are willing to discuss with the Arl further."

It was the turn of Argarth to sigh. Sodding politics. "So it would seem."

It had taken a few minutes to summon the energy to step forward but eventually Elissa had accepted the small scrap of linen held out to her and had crouched down to mop up the spilled cupful of water. Not because she had been persuaded it mattered and not because she had been convinced that her fears were unfounded but because the simple spoken sound of Wynne's name prompted the reaction.

Liahn had offered no further assistance and instead turned her attention to finishing tending to Leliana's burn. It was only when the first cloth became a sodden rag in Elissa's hand that the mage had passed her a fresh cloth.

Elissa rocked back on her heels with both cloths clutched in her hand. Her gaze wandered across the small patch of clean grey stone which glistened at her feet towards the dirtier stones where the water had not reached. The small footprints she had left had already dried and there was little point in further smudging the dirt simply for the sake of it.

The cup had skidded across the floor and come to a rest near the door. She pushed herself up and stepped towards it, bending down and catching it up in one smooth movement. A fresh chip now disturbed the smooth rim of it and her forefinger traced the small jagged edge. How many others would do the same?

"Thank you, Warden."

Elissa found the cup gently pried from her hands. Her gaze followed the retreating hand and she watched as Liahn returned it to her table, setting it to one side as she searched for some strips of bandage. The mage sensed that the other woman was watching her and she raised her head, sparing a small smile as though acknowledging the dangers of permitting the Warden to dwell on the seemingly insignificant object.

A knock at the door disturbed the quiet and Elissa spun round, startled. She backed away from the door but was checked in her movement by a tut from Liahn.

Twisting in the direction of the mage, Elissa found that she had moved to Leliana's side and her fingers were deftly fixing the bandage across the Bard's face.

"Warden, please." Liahn threw the words over her shoulder but she spoke with a tone that brokered little tolerance for dissent.

Responding to the tone rather than the instruction, Elissa forced her feet back in the direction of the door. The solid sensation of the cold metal beneath her hands as she pulled on the latch was a small comfort but the argument that she was not in the Fade became further compromised by the déjà vu she now experienced.

"Zev."

The elf smiled in greeting but it faltered as he registered that she offered no reciprocal response. Her hand gripped her tighter around the handle of the latch while she stared at him.

"Did you wish something of me?" he asked at last.

"No," she mumbled.

"May I come in?"

"Of course, Zevran. Your company is always welcome."

At the sound of Liahn's voice, Elissa surrendered her position in the doorway and allowed Liahn to open the door wider to enable Zevran to enter. A hand laid against her shoulder and while Zevran and Leliana exchanged greetings, Liahn exerted a small amount of pressure in a movement that was intended to guide Elissa out into the hallway.

She accompanied the gesture with a murmured explanation. "I will help you back to your room, Warden."

The abrupt dismissal was unexpected and Elissa found that she had no argument. Without bidding either Leliana or Zevran goodbye, she stepped into the corridor. Liahn kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder but Elissa discovered that it was likely unneeded. The presence of another was enough.

The door to her room was open but passing through the doorway, she found that the room did not offer her the same sense of sanctuary that she had experienced in the last few days. It was simply a room. One that had been breached. She would find no greater peace here than anywhere else.

The soft thud of the door closing behind her caused her to start and she turned, surprised to find that Liahn remained with her.

The mage did not meet her eye but walked towards the window and opened it. Leaning against the sill and speaking into the breeze, she remarked "it is just us now, Warden."

"What do you mean?"

Liahn gave a small shake of her head. "It is clear you are not convinced by Leliana's argument yet you refuse to be honest with me."

Elissa looked away from the mage in a desperate search for a distraction. There was a tray of food which had been left on the bedside table and although she had no hunger cravings, she fixated on it. Stone cold and with a skin across the surface of the soup, it was still not the most unappetising meal she had been presented with. She broke a small lump of bread and swirled it in the soup. The sight of the skin wrapping itself around the lump curled her lip and she discarded the bread to one side.

There was a rustle of robes as Liahn moved from the window. Elissa kept her eyes fixed on the bowl of soup but she heard the small gurgle of distaste that rumbled at the back of Liahn's throat. The mage held out a hand and sent a small wave of heat into the liquid which made it simmer then bubble.

"There. It is important that you eat."

"Magic is not meant for menial tasks."

"Wynne's views are not necessarily shared by others, Warden."

Startled that the woman had made the connection between the elder mage and the comment, Elissa raised her head. "Why do you mention Wynne?"

"Why do you not?" Liahn murmured before retreating to the chair in the corner of the room.

Elissa followed the movement from the corner of her eye. "Why would I?"

The mage sighed. "Warden, I spend my life feigning ignorance and speaking in riddles. Please, may we talk freely?"

"I have nothing to say."

"Which does not mean that there is nothing to say," Liahn looked down at her hands which were once more folded in her lap. "Very well, Elissa. I will speak freely and then you may decide whether you owe me the same courtesy."

She remained silent and turned her attention back to the now steaming soup.

"You believe you are trapped in the Fade as a result of Enchanter Wynne's healing."

A simple statement that offered an escape from the torture her mind was inflicting on her. Elissa found that her eyes closed as her focus turned inward in the hopes of unearthing a way of reconciling head and heart.

"Why would you think such a thing?" she heard herself ask.

"I was not surprised to discover that Wynne had died. I knew when I sensed the extensive healing that had already taken place in your body that it had required a great amount of mana. Now though, I believe it required more magic than even Wynne could have had access to," Liahn's voice hardened a fraction. "Your fear that you are somehow trapped in the Fade lends the idea even greater credence."

Her fingers curled around the edge of the table and discretely helped to steady her while she searched desperately for that feeling or sense or Maker sent message which would help to guide her. She had given her word to Wynne and even though she had broken it by revealing the secret to the Wardens, she could convince herself that there remained a difference between that revelation and this.

But the secret was all but destroying her.

"Did Wynne channel energy from the Fade to heal you, Elissa?"

It would take only a nod to confirm the conclusion which Liahn had already reached. A single movement and this numbing fear which had spread throughout her body might be halted. A single nod and a brief explanation and the fear may even be pushed back. Dismissed back into the dark corners of her mind where the rest of her nightmares and terrors were contained.

"Well, Warden?"

A book rested in the crook of Eamon's arm and he flicked through the pages at regular intervals without bothering to read any of the words. Trusting to his own sorting system, he knew that the book had come from the shelves given over to reference texts and he vaguely remembered deciding that the second shelf should contain those texts which advocated the various ways in which to manage arable land. Aside from that, he had no idea what he was pretending to read.

Alistair sat at the desk behind him, reading over the small collection of documents which Eamon had pushed in the younger man's direction. He was taking his damned time. Eamon had some idea that it was a deliberate attempt to postpone the return to the awkward silence which had followed the strained politeness they had greeted one another with. But the longer Alistair dwelled on the inconsequential supply requests and trade agreements, the longer Eamon had to wait for the younger man to discover the execution order and the easier it was for the older man to begin to wonder whether this was in fact the right course of action to take.

The appearance of Alistair at his study door spoke to the fact that Isolde had succeeded in speaking with him. He doubted whether the boy's sense of pride, even justified as it was in this particular instance, would have permitted him to come to Eamon without some form of prompting.

There was a sharp intake of breath from behind him and Eamon readied himself. Snapping the book shut and discarding it back on the shelf, he contorted his face into an expression of mild concern as he looked to Alistair. "Have I overlooked something?"

The younger man eyed him from behind a closed expression. It would have given little away were it not for the knowledge Eamon had that Alistair was only able to summon such an unwavering expression when he had something to hide. At any other time, the boy was as easy to read as the Chant of Light. Maker help them all when the other nobles realised the presence of the tell.

Leaning back in the chair, Alistair fished out the single sheet of vellum using only his finger and thumb. He held it out to Eamon without comment.

"I do not recall any objectionable request," Eamon strode to the desk to accept the offending sheet.

"It's the execution order for Anora."

"What?" He snatched at the sheet and ran an eye over it. "Alistair, I can only apologise. I intended to discuss this with you separately."

"What's it doing among these?" Alistair waved a hand across the other documents and his deadpan expression cracked to reveal a frown. "I could have just signed it without realising what it was. That can't happen, Eamon. Not over something like this."

The sting of the rebuke surprised him and Eamon found he was flustered. "I would not lead you astray, Alistair."

"Perhaps not deliberately."

There was a hint of an accusation which riled at his sense of propriety. Reminding himself that this was the best opportunity to encourage Alistair to broach the delicate question of the governing of the Arling, Eamon fought to keep his temper.

"Isolde is worried about you."

"Isolde often worries, you know this."

"Yes but after this morning and now this," Alistair nodded towards the execution order Eamon had replaced on the desk and his expression softened into one of concern, "so am I."

"There is much to deal with, Alistair," Eamon allowed his tone to emphasise the underlying meaning of his next comment. "And a significant amount that I could not have anticipated."

He was rewarded by a small wince from Alistair and knew he had pressed on a tender spot. "I know, Eamon. It's not entirely my fault."

"But neither is it mine, Alistair."

A flush of shame coloured the cheeks of the younger man and he dropped his gaze from the Arl. "I know."

"Perhaps you expect too much from me, Alistair."

The young King swung his head up and Eamon was gratified to see the wave of panic that crossed his face. "Eamon, I need your support. I can't do this on my own."

"You will not be alone once you appoint your advisor. I only hope you will find someone before I must return to Redcliffe."

"Teagan can manage Redcliffe."

"Yes but it is unfair to expect him to bear the burden of an Arling without just recognition and reward."

Alistair did not offer an immediate response. He had withdrawn into himself but Eamon fancied that he could see brief glimpses of evidence which suggested that a plan was coalescing in the head of the younger man. A plan which Eamon already fully approved of and had only to wait to hear it spoken out loud.

A sharp knock came at the study door. Before Eamon could bark a dismissal in the hopes that the interruption would not scatter the thoughts he had worked so hard to bring to the forefront of Alistair's mind, the Warden-Commander entered.

Finding that Alistair had found his feet in an instant, Eamon also straightened at the sight of the dwarf.

Argarth acknowledged each man with a small bow but addressed only Eamon. "May we talk, Arl?"

"Of course," Eamon nodded and shot a look towards Alistair.

"We can discuss this further tomorrow, Eamon," the young man muttered as he edged his way from behind the desk and towards the door. "All of it."

Without waiting for an answer, Alistair dismissed himself from the room.

Eamon smothered the desire to curse. He could only hope that the seeds he had sown would benefit from a night of consideration. For the moment, he had a much more critical issue to overcome. "I take it you have reached a decision, Commander?"

Argarth rubbed at his beard with a weary groan that Eamon could empathise with. "We have."

Alistair had expected Zevran to make an appearance as soon as he departed from the study but the elf was curiously absent. Intrigued but not overly concerned, he made his way back to the rooms given over to Elissa and Leliana.

The moment of peace gave him some time to gather his thoughts. Whatever had passed between Elissa and the Grey Wardens, it appeared that she had satisfied their curiosity with her report to the extent that the Warden-Commander himself had sought out the Arl. And although it was clear that Eamon was suffering from the culmination of events, he had little choice but to trust the man would not fail him now. With the exception of Teagan, he had no other nobles with whom he could admit to his failings quite so readily.

He approached the door to Leliana's room and the absence of any telltale scratch told him that Elissa was not with the Bard. He continued towards her own room and was rewarded by the growing awareness of another tainted being as he neared her.

Not pausing to knock, he pushed the door and stepped into the room. Liahn was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. She rose to her feet at his entrance but the greater portion of his attention was drawn to Elissa who was standing over the bedside table with her back towards him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the bow of the mage's head and he made to acknowledge the mark of respect with a simple gesture when a sudden realisation dawned on him. He snapped his head back in the direction of the mage.

"Why did you bow?"

He had not intended the question to be quite so acerbic but Liahn kept her composure. Standing with her hands clasped loosely in front of her, she cleared her throat. "I was not aware it was inappropriate."

"No, I didn't mean it like that..." he made to apologise but was distracted by his persistent need to understand why she had made the gesture. "Just... why did you bow?"

Liahn paused as she determined whether he did in fact need her to explain. On reaching the conclusion that he was in earnest, it became apparent that she was subsequently debating whether the need was borne from egotism or insanity. He had the disconcerting impression that insanity was winning out.

"You are King." She spoke the words slowly as though she was concerned that the words may come as some irreparable shock.

"He bowed."

"Who bowed, love?" Elissa turned to face him.

She too spoke with a underlying tone which suggested her doubt as to his current mental state and he swung his gaze round to rest on her, ready to retort with a playful insult. She met the gaze with an unblinking stare and it was then he realised that something was wrong and it had nothing to do with his mental capacity.

Whether it was because he was able to see through any pretence she had attempted to project or she was responding to his own change in demeanour at the sight of her, it made little difference. Her arms moved to circle around her upper body and tightened in an effort to fend off what he knew was more than just a chill. The unblinking stare faltered and her gaze slid from his towards the floor. He had little doubt that had she been lying on the bed then she would have curled into herself entirely.

He wanted only to cross the small distance between them, gather her up and promise whatever needed to be promised to make her feel better but the presence of Liahn forced a greater restraint. Instead he turned to the mage with an expression of anxious bewilderment.

"It has been a trying day," the mage murmured.

"Does she need healing?"

"None that I can offer."

The reply was clipped and spoke to some of the tension which existed between the two women but if ever he needed proof that the transformation in Elissa was more than his own mind playing tricks on him then the mage's cryptic response was it. He waited for Liahn to expand on her answer but she made to move towards the door and if he had not dodged in front of her then he was certain she would have left him to figure out the whole mess by himself.

"Wait, what does that mean?" he demanded.

"Let her go, Alistair," Elissa spoke from behind him.

He refused to move from his current position but made no attempt to stop Liahn when she slipped past him. Instead he looked to Elissa for an answer that had all the signs of being one he did not want to know.

The creak of the door as it closed behind the mage banished the self-control he had imposed on himself and he gave into indulgence. A matter of strides and his arms were around her as he attempted to offer a defence against whatever was plaguing her.

"Love, I don't understand." It was not an easy admission to make but it seemed to be the only one which might prompt some explanation as to why, in only a matter of hours, she had descended into such a state.

A moment of stillness and then he felt the gentle shudder of her body against his own. The movement rapidly developed into heaving as she struggled to balance the need to breathe with the need to expel her tears. Maker, she was crying.

Faced with the unenviable task of determining whether the tears were because she needed to release the pent up emotion or simply because he had upset her with what he had said, Alistair opted for silence. She would reach a stage where she was able to speak, be it to inform him or rebuke him. But until then, he would simply hold her and wait.

But even as he made the decision, he still found that his mind raced to uncover some sort of answer. Not that it really mattered. There was no answer which would simply fix her. No doubt there was likely some deep and meaningful reason why she had to endure the upset. A purpose to her pain, hurt, distress that would only be revealed in time. She would be stronger, wiser and generally better for surviving it. All this, he could recite without pause.

But for all he could recite it, he found that none of it was actually any comfort when confronted by someone so broken. What sense did it make to watch someone suffer alone simply because by suffering alone, she may find a way to cope on her own. It was that damned line of argument which had nearly succeeded in killing both of them.

It seemed so unfair that there was not some magical solution he could find for her which would restore her. What was the point of magic if it did not banish such emotions from the lives of good people? At this particular moment, he did not care that magic did not work that way. It should.

Elissa spluttered as the fragile equilibrium between breathing and crying disintegrated. The splutter became a cough and he loosened his arms around her so that she could pull back to gain some air. She did pull back but rather than concentrate on her breathing, her hands leapt to her face in an attempt to hide the tearstains.

Not entirely sure why seeing her upset was worse than either hearing her or having her fall apart in his arms, Alistair caught her wrists before she could turn away from him and gently pulled her hands away. "Elissa, stop it."

The surge of panic at being restrained caused her coughing to worsen and he was forced to let her go. She doubled over in front of him and the odd hacking wail told him that she had yet to make a decision whether to breathe or sob.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, he found he could only offer her practical advice. "Breathe, love."

In any other circumstance, he might have entertained the idea that the muffled gasps which followed were a show of obedience to his command. In the current situation however he could only imagine that Elissa had herself reached the realisation that if she did not focus on one action over the other then she was likely to choke entirely.

Hearing the gasps steady out into a recognisable rhythm, Alistair moved his hand to her shoulder and forced her to straighten up. The improved posture meant she was able to drag more air into her body and her breathing became less shallow.

"I... I'm... s...sor..." she attempted before a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks.

Alistair pulled the sleeve of his shirt down, ignoring the protest of both material and stitching across his shoulders as he did, and wiped at her cheeks. She spluttered again but this time it seemed to be a result of a sporadic giggle that had bubbled up from some unknown part of her not wreaked by unhappiness.

"No ... handker...chief?"

"Left it in my armour," he murmured.

She gulped out another small giggle and he smiled at the strange sound.

"I... I never ga... gave you a... handkerchief."

"I didn't say you did."

"Handkerchiefs are ... love... tok... tokens."

The smile crinkled into a grin at her attempt at humour, hopeless as it was. "Then this is awkward."

He was almost certain that she laughed. The loud bray that escaped from her could be little else even though it caused her to double over once more as further coughing racked her body. Anticipating that she was verging towards hysteria and under no illusions that he would be able to cope with a hysterical woman, Alistair forced her to sit down on the nearby chair while she concentrated on her breathing. Crouching in front of her, he rested his hands on her knees and willed her to regain enough composure to tell him anything which would help him to understand.

Sniffing but with her breathing more controlled, Elissa closed her eyes. In a half whisper, she confessed, "I... I've made a ... mess."

"What mess?"

"Liahn knows about Wynne."

It took a few moments but it dawned on him what she was talking about. "You've told a Circle mage that one of their Enchanters was possessed?"

"Maybe."

It was fortunate that she had her eyes closed because she missed the way his jaw fell open. As it was, he was unable to prevent his hands from falling away from her knees.

"Do you realise what you've done?"

Her eyelids sprang open and he was dismayed to see her eyes were glistening with fresh tears. "It's not like that."

He wanted to believe her if only because it might stop her crying. But even he could not reconcile the desire to comfort her with dismissing the significance of what she might have just revealed to him. Unable to trust that his building judgement would not creep into his voice, Alistair only raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't intend to focus on the Spirit. I just explained how Wynne could save me and they seemed to be intrigued and I knew I couldn't tell them about Morrigan in case they decided to hunt her down so I just told them the truth about Wynne and... and... and..." she stumbled over her words in her desperate haste to make him understand.

"This is to the Grey Wardens?" he attempted to make sense of her ramblings.

"Yes, the Wardens. I begged them not to speak to the mages. I explained the paranoia it would cause especially after Uldred. See, I do understand the consequences. I do. I never intended that anyone else would find out. I felt I could trust Argarth and what else could I do? They would have discovered the truth about Morrigan and Wynne had passed and it didn't seem to hurt anyone so long as the Circle didn't find out..."

Alistair returned one of his hands to her knee and squeezed. "Love, just tell me the facts and we can talk everything else over later."

"The Wardens think Wynne's healing provided some connection to the Fade which spared my life. And..." she took a deep breath, "I can't work out whether I'm trapped in the Fade or not."

Alistair rose to his full height and took a few steps away from the chair. His hand passed through his hair as he tried to make sense of what she had told him but it was proving beyond his competence, Maker help him. He glanced back to at the broken figure he had turned his back on to find that she had slumped forward and was cradling her head in her hands.

Swallowing the groan, he crouched back down in front of her again and she raised her head just enough so that she could peer at him from behind her fingers.

"I think I'm going to need more facts."