Having retreated to the far corner of the room, Alistair watched Eamon blot the wet ink on the execution order. After a few moments, when the Arl was satisfied that the ink was sufficiently dry, he folded the vellum into thirds before sealing the paper with a drop of wax from one of the nearby candles. Pushing his signet ring into the hot wax, he addressed Alistair without looking up from his task.

"I will send this to Fort Drakon to be carried out immediately."

In a daze, Alistair simply nodded.

Eamon glanced up at the silence but after catching the expression on Alistair's face, deduced that the younger man had no real objection to the comment. Striding to the door and pulling it open, Eamon signalled to a waiting guard from across the hallway and passed him the sealed document. There was a clink of armour as the guard saluted before the thud of his boots faded away and Alistair realised the guard had been given prior instructions to wait for the order as well as where to deliver it.

"You knew I would sign it," he blurted out, taking a hesitant step towards the Arl.

Closing the door softly, Eamon turned and fixed a bemused frown on Alistair. "Do you regret your decision?"

"No, well, no, it's not that... Just, how did you know what I would do?"

The frown on the Arl's face deepened as he studied the younger man. "Perhaps it is more accurate to say I presumed. If I have offended you, Alistair, then I can only apologise but I could not believe that you would allow such a dangerous threat to remain given the precarious situation we find ourselves in and Anora's own prior actions against you."

Unwilling to accuse Eamon outright of deceiving him, Alistair held his tongue and allowed his gaze to drop to the floor.

"I only wish to guide you as best I am able," the Arl continued in a clipped tone. "If you feel that my best is not sufficient then I ask that you find another to advise you."

Alistair fixed a pleading look on the man. "No, Eamon. I told you yesterday. I need your support."

"I remember," the expression on Eamon's face softened and some of the tension ebbed from his body. With a slow stride, he continued towards the desk. "And I thank you for it."

Watching Eamon, Alistair let out a long exhale as his hand crept to the back of his neck. "I'm just finding all of this a little..."

"Overwhelming?"

"Terrifying."

A low chuckle escaped from Eamon as he settled in his chair and stretched his legs beneath the desk. "Then perhaps this is an appropriate time to reflect further on what we spoke about yesterday with regards to Teagan's role within the Arling."

"Oh?"

"He has proven himself in the management of Rainesfere and with the events at Redcliffe. Perhaps he is ready to begin taking on further responsibilities."

"He would make a good Arl."

Eamon raised an eyebrow, and propped his elbows against the armrests of the chair as he made himself more comfortable. "I did not realise Redcliffe was in such desperate need of a guiding hand."

"No, I... it... that's not what I meant," Alistair neared the desk, a flush colouring his cheeks. "I just meant that if Teagan becomes Arl then you'll have nothing to worry about and you can help me, here, in Denerim." Scrabbling for a way out of this corner he had backed himself into, Alistair resorted to his habitual way of deflecting trouble. "We both know I need it."

The corners of Eamon's mouth tensed as though he was holding back a smile. "Teagan was preparing for his role years before he was granted it. As long as you remember your duty, Alistair, then I have faith in your abilities."

Relief washed over Alistair as he heard the answer he wanted to hear. "So you'll stay in Denerim?"

"We will need to formalise some details. I do not wish the others Banns to contest Teagan's power," the Arl leant forward and pulled open a desk drawer, rifling through the contents and pulling out fresh sheets of vellum. "If we draw up a..."

Eamon continued to talk but his voice faded into a drone as Alistair's attention was distracted by the taint thrumming at the back of his head. Faint but resonating throughout his body, he recognised the particular trill as belonging to Elissa.

"Alistair."

The sharpness in Eamon's voice recaptured his focus and he glanced back at the man, blinking in surprise.

"Sorry," he mumbled as the sensation of the taint began to ebb and allowed him to regain his concentration. Wherever she was among the winding corridors of the estate, she was moving away from him. Still, her presence seemed odd. She had been more than content to remain in bed and had certainly shown no desire to roam the halls. "What were we..." His voice trailed off as the drone strengthened again before reaching a new height as she drew closer. It was as though she was searching for him and using the taint as a beacon between them.

"Alist..."

Ignoring the increasing terseness of the Arl's tone—though he was still to listen fully to what the man was actually saying—Alistair headed across the room towards the door. As he pulled it open, the scrape of wood across the flagstones echoed throughout the hallway and he accompanied the sound with the call of her name.

There were a few moment of silence before the rapid thud of boots heralded her arrival. She appeared in the doorway across the hall, body tensed and her head swivelling back and forth as she searched for him. Catching sight of him at last, she sagged against the doorframe and appeared to breathe a sigh of relief.

If he had been so inclined, he might have questioned how it was that a crisis forever seemed to dog at her heels but dressed as she was in yesterday's clothes and with her hair yet to see a comb, he forewent any flippant remark for a simple question. "Love, what's wrong?"

She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a clatter which rang out from the study behind him. At the unexpected noise, her gaze shifted and whatever she saw caused her to stand bolt upright.

Alarmed at the abrupt change in her demeanour, Alistair spun round but found only Eamon standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Hero," the Arl acknowledged the woman with a respectful bow. "I trust you are well."

Sensing waves of anger now radiating from behind him, Alistair looked back to Elissa. Her posture remained defensive but one hand had snuck from her side and was pressed against the wall, her fingers flexing against the stone as she fought to steady herself.

Ignoring the greeting, she spoke through gritted teeth. "What have you done, Eamon?"

"Hero?"

A curl of her lip met the use of title and her gaze swiftly kindled into a glare.

There was a time when even the smallest change in her posture would have been sufficient signal for Alistair to take up arms against whatever she had deemed a threat but her current behaviour simply made no sense to him. Yet with such erratic behaviour over the last few days—and weeks if he were to be entirely honest—he could not be certain that this was not simply another instance of her impaired judgement.

"Elissa," he addressed in her in a low voice, "what's happened?"

It was his turn to be disregarded as she growled again at Eamon. "What have you done?"

"Alistair, she does not seem herself," Eamon muttered from behind him. "Perhaps we should call for the healer."

He made to turn his head but the slight movement prompted Elissa to tear her glare from Eamon and focus it towards him. Whatever had triggered this behaviour in her, even if its cause remained a mystery, it was clear that she was nevertheless entirely convinced of its legitimacy. That much, he could see. More than that though, the ferocity with which she was focusing her glare entirely on him communicated very succinctly that she would tolerate him calling into question her sanity.

"Love, help me understand, please," he pleaded, drawing closer in the hopes that being near would help to reassure her in some way. "You're not making sense right now."

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"No," she breathed, pressing her fingers to her temples as she scrunched her eyes closed and leant one shoulder against the wall. "No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't agree to it. Not after everything."

Taking a small number of steps towards her, he reached out and caught hold of her wrist so that he could draw her fingers way from her head. Her eyes sprung open at his touch and her eyes darted across his face, searching for an answer to a question he didn't understand.

"Agree to what?" he murmured.

Behind him, Eamon cleared his throat. "I really would recommend that..."

At the elder man's intervention, the reverie Elissa had fallen into was broken and she pulled her wrist from Alistair's grasp as she pushed herself off of the wall. She brushed past Alistair and began to advance on the Arl. "I know you've requested that preparations be made for the coronation!"

Eyeing her with an ill-disguised wariness, for which Alistair could hardly blame the man, Eamon raised his shoulders in a shrug. "I fail to see why this should be such a surprise."

"What about our betrothal? What about that?"

Interest piqued at the mention of the only detail he had any prior knowledge of in an increasingly one-sided argument, Alistair shot a glance at Eamon. "What about our betrothal?"

"Yes, tell him what you've agreed with the Warden-Commander!"

She was almost within arm's length of the Arl but the growing shrillness to her voice told Alistair that it would be a very bad idea to allow her to get any closer to the man. Lunging towards her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. He felt the tremors pulsing through her body as she attempted to reign in her seething fury but she didn't resist his intervention.

Over her shoulder, he appealed to Eamon in desperation, "you need to tell me what she's talking about."

"It is one of the details that the Commander and I intended to broach with you both this afternoon."

Elissa let out a squeal of rage. She wrestled from his hold but only enough so that she was able to turn and look him full in the face. "He," she flung her arm out behind her and gestured wildly towards Eamon, "has agreed that our betrothal be broken!"

Such a ridiculous accusation did not deserve acknowledgement. Alistair continued to gaze down at her and waited for the Arl's denial. He expected an outraged dismissal of the accusation and a staunch reaffirmation that he would act only in their best interests. However, neither proved to be forthcoming.

"Eamon?" Alistair prompted at last, glancing towards the man.

The Arl offered no further comment. After a few more moments of expectant silence which remained unfulfilled, Eamon retreated back into the study.

Releasing Elissa and abandoning her in the hallway, Alistair followed after him. "Eamon!"

"I have already told you that this will be discussed more fully this afternoon," the Arl spoke over his shoulder as he returned to the desk. "There is little point in talking about it until..."

"Now!"

The single word resonated around the room as a stillness descended over the two men, both vying for dominance. While Eamon refused to acknowledge the command, he was not so bold as to dismiss it outright. Yet Alistair was unable to find the courage to impose his will more forcefully than he already had.

From the doorway, a soft-spoken plea interrupted the stalemate. "Please, just tell us."

"It was an unavoidable consequence," Eamon muttered, his head turning a fraction so that his voice would carry further across the room. "The breaking of your betrothal is the price of political stability. It is your duty, as Hero and as King, to pay it whether you like it or not."

Uncertain that he was hearing correctly, Alistair forced out, "wh... why would you do this?"

"I did not plan this, if that is what you are suggesting," the Arl rounded on him, a shadowing passing over his face. "It was an unavoidable consequence to the demands of the Grey Wardens. They would permit you to take your place as King only so long as Elissa remained with the Order. The distinction between Crown and Order must be maintained."

"No," he said slowly, the shake of his head became more pronounced as he convinced himself of his convictions. "No, you never wanted me to marry Elissa. All that talk about an heir..." He trailed off before he finally committed himself to the accusation. "The demands of the Wardens were just a convenient detail for your own agenda."

"Do you think it pleases me to do this?" Eamon snapped, his features contorting into an angry grimace. "If there were another option then I would have considered it. But you asked me to find a solution to this situation and I have carried out your wishes. I cannot be blamed if the result does not coincide with your own personal desires."

"What talk about an heir?" Elissa interrupted as the scrape of her boots against the floor revealed that she had moved further into the room.

With a disdainful snort, Eamon raised his eyes to the heavens in silent prayer. "Do not feign ignorance, Hero. As much as you may wish to dismiss the fact, I am certain that the daughter of Teryn Cousland fully understands the importance of lineage."

The mention of her father, said in such an unflattering tone, jolted Alistair from his brooding introspection and he hastily summoned the presence of mind to grab hold of Elissa as she surged forward.

"Love, stop," he soothed, more from habit than anything else. "Let it go."

She strained against him but the full force of her reaction had already left her. Discovering that she could not slip free of his hold without considerable effort, she ceased to struggle and instead leant into him with her head resting against his chest.

He rested his chin against the top of her head in an attempt to bring himself some comfort from having her unexpectedly beside him. The brief moment of serenity was brought to an end as he felt her take a deep breath. Stiffening, he readied himself for the fallout of whatever comment was to follow.

"We'll find a way."

The words were quiet and measured yet the defiance she succeeded in articulating within them was something to admire. At least, it was to him.

"Do not be ridiculous! The needs of Ferelden cannot be set aside while its King indulges you on some fool notion which may or may not result in you conceiving a child. Think, Hero. If it were possible then there would be countless Grey Warden children throughout Thedas," Eamon shook his head, turning on heel as he approached the window. "No, it is clearly impossible that two Grey Wardens could conceive together."

"Why are you suddenly so certain that it will be impossible?" Alistair spoke up, lifting his head so he could look towards Eamon even though the man continued to keep his back turned on the young couple. "I've never said that it would be impossible."

"Some things do not have to be said," Eamon dismissed the protest with an incredulous snort. Whether he did, in fact, know of the fertility issues associated with the taint or not, it was clear that Arl was at least confident in his own convictions. "And are you truly so certain that it is not?"

Alistair's hesitation was enough to damn him. Elissa twisted in his grip and, unprepared as he was for the movement, she succeeded in wriggling free and began backing away from him. "Don't listen to him! Tell me you're not listening to him!"

"I'm not listening to him," he replied automatically but found that he was unable to meet her eye. Instead, his gaze fell to the flagstone at her feet.

"It no longer matters..." Eamon interrupted but it was a fraction too late to drown out the betrayed growl of his name which escaped from her lips.

The sound echoed in his head and made him deaf to anything the Arl was saying. He forced himself to raise his head but found that he did not have the audacity to hold her accusing stare while these doubts were running through his head.

He had promised. He would not demean either of them by accepting her as anything but his wife. She was worth more than that and, whatever else Eamon had done, he had been raised to be better than that. Yet in spite of it all—the promises, the prayers and the desperate hope— he was faced with the same decision that he had sought to escape from. The inevitability of his situation—of the situation she had placed him in—crowded ever closer and he struggled to catch his breath.

"Why are you letting him do this to us?"

The question needled at his conscience and Alistair snuck a glace in the direction of Elissa just in time to see her wince. There was a flush of colour which rushed across her cheeks before she dropped her head and let her dark hair fall across her face so that the world was obscured from her view... or she was obscured from the world. Whichever it was, it did not matter so much as what it represented. She was humiliated. Not necessarily because of him, though he chose to indulge himself that he at least had some part to it, but rather because her question only emphasised the how little influence she had over her own fate. For all their positions of power, earned or otherwise, both Hero and King were entirely powerless to orchestrate the attainment of their own simple mutual wish.

Swallowing, he murmured, "I don't have a choice. You put me on the throne, Elissa. The Wardens will only recognise me as King so long as... Well, I... we... have to..."

As the words dried up, he lifted a hand and brushed his fingers against the hair in front of her face, hoping that a tactile connection could communicate all which he found impossible to say. At the forefront of it all was the harsh truth that he could not set aside his sense of duty simply because it suited them. It was the same sense which she had relied on to ensure that he would remain behind to fight the Blight. Without it, everything else would have been lost. Funny, then, that he was about to lose his everything because of it.

The heat from her cheeks did little to thaw the icy look she directed at him from between narrowed eyes. Hand faltering as his nerve briefly failed him; he suppressed the urge to allow the strands to fall back in place in front of her face and hooked them behind her ear instead. His fingers trailed against her jaw and he would have allowed the touch to develop into a lingering caress had she not jerked her head away.

Alistair allowed his hand to fall to his side. "It's my duty."

"What about your duty to me?"

He knew Eamon was still in the room but the man had at least had the sense to fall silent. Even so, the knowledge that the Arl was an unwilling and unwanted voyeur to this fracturing between them only further hampered his ability to convey himself. At least, that was how he chose to explain the bluntness which shaped his next statement.

"This comes first."

A giggle spilled from her; a discordant sound which set his nerves on edge. Her eyes widened and she clamped a hand across her mouth as though simply covering it would prevent any further noise escaping from her unawares.

Paralysed by fear of her outright rejection, Alistair could only watch as she struggled to regain control over herself. The internal war being waged by the conflicting emotion played out across her face and contorted it into unfamiliar expressions until her expression finally hardened into an impenetrable mask.

"You and your duty," she remarked flatly. "To the Black City with you and your duty."

"Yes, well, we can't all just run away from our duty, can we?"

He made the remark under his breath, a last ditch attempt to gain the upper hand in a situation where neither of them had the advantage. But her reaction only seemed to emphasise that his entire involvement in her life had now come down to the flippancy contained within that one statement.

Her mask cracked as a smirk curled the corner of her upper lip before the blank expression reasserted itself. Sweeping low in an exaggerated bow to both men, the Hero of Ferelden took her leave without further hesitation or comment.

For once, she had let him have the last word.

Elissa stalked through the hallways with her shoulders back and head held high. If any of the servants who scattered in front of her had had the courage to look her full in the face however, they would have discovered eyes bright with unshed tears. Her only thought was the desperate desire to be anywhere but near him. So long as the maddening prickling of the taint, his taint, in her head eased with each stride then nothing else mattered.

Yet with each step she took, it became more and more difficult to catch her breath as searing sobs threatened to bubble up from the pit of her stomach. Gulping in air, she stumbled to a halt in an alcove and allowed her shoulders to slump as she bent double, her hands resting against her knees, and tucked her chin into her chest as she allowed her eyelids to close.

Breathe.

That was all she had to do; breathe. There was nothing to be gained from acknowledging either the unspoken words caught in her throat or the sensation that each was a tiny shard of glass cutting deep into her chest.

A sound, halfway between whimper and whine, reached her ears and it took her a moment to realise that she was the one making it. She bit down on her bottom lip, focusing on the stinging pain as her tooth cut through skin in the hopes that the distraction would help to quell whatever was causing her to create such a noise.

Maker be damned, breathe!

Concentrating on steadying her mind, she forced herself to inhale in through her nose and held the breath for three thuds of her heartbeat before allowing the breath to rush from her mouth. The establishment of a rhythm eased the panic which had begun to creep into her head and she gradually became more aware of her surroundings. The hallway itself was quiet but the scent of smoke-infused leather permeated into her consciousness.

Andraste as her witness, the elf did not walk so much as levitated. There was no other explanation for it. Little wonder that he was so skilled at his profession.

She took a moment to gather herself and hoped against hope that wherever that pitiful sound had come from, it would not betray her when she opened her mouth.

"Zev."

The word was more softly spoken than usual but she was pleased to discover that there was no waver in her voice. Buoyed by the smallest of victories, Elissa straightened and saw both the Knight-Captain and Oghren watching them from across the entrance hall. It was only then that she realised where her feet had been taking her.

Desperate to distract herself from the anguish lingering at the edges of her mind, while at the same time hoping to avoid the questions written across Zevran's face, she forced out from between clenched teeth, "why is Oghren here?"

"He wishes to accompany the templars to Lake Calenhad, to visit with Felsi. I thought it appropriate that he make his request in your presence."

She found her head bobbing. "I see. Yes. Yes, of course. In fact, I'll ask on his behalf."

"Elissa..."

"Come on," she interrupted but was dismayed to hear the pitch of her voice begin to heighten. She hastily turned her attention to her crumpled shirt, rearranging the cloth before running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. With her mind occupied by the inane details of her appearance, she regained her composure. "Let's not keep the Captain waiting."

She heard the rustle and clinks of the elf's armour as he folded his arms against his chest and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Wise enough not to pry directly but evidently still concerned about her capabilities, the elf spoke with uncharacteristic urgency, "Elissa, whatever has happened, I beg that you keep your wits about you. For Leliana's sake, and Oghren."

The words were meant well but his doubt, and the fact that he had felt the need to voice it, only served to rekindle her temper. Her sense of outrage helped to burn through the mist befuddling her thoughts and she seized on the clarity it seemed to offer.

"I would do nothing less!" she snarled.

"I am glad to hear it." His even tone was deliberate; a means of ensuring that he did not provoke her further.

Elissa swallowed. "Sorry, Zev. You... you're right, of course, but I promise I won't let either of them down." She stole a look at the Knight-Captain and the realisation of the fragility of the deal she was expected to broker with the templar triggered an unanticipated issue with regards to... him. "Zev, in the study, h... he's in Eamon's study. You have to make sure he stays away from the Captain. He might... appear... when I'm talking and... Just keep him away from me."

The last part was delivered in a garbled rush but Zevran overlooked the inconsistency as to whom he was expected to keep Alistair from.

"As you wish."

"Good," she took a steadying breath but grabbed a hold of the elf's arm as he made to carry out her instructions. "Wait, what's the Captain's name, again?"

"Joal but he prefers to be addressed by his rank."

In spite of everything else crowding in her head, Elissa discovered a faint smile creeping across her face at the little but significant detail. Ever the silver-tongued flatterer, at least at one time, she had found a worthy rival in Zevran and he continued to demonstrate flashes of brilliance that she would otherwise overlook.

Accurately interpreting the hint of amusement in her expression, Zevran flashed a wide grin before freeing himself from her grasp and continuing in the direction of the study.

Elissa turned in the direction of the Knight-Captain and found that a confident stride was easier to accomplish when she only concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. Within a few moments, she found herself in front of the templar and, ignoring Oghren for fear that she might discover a hint of concern in the face of battle-hardened warrior, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and leant forward in recognition of the man's position. "Knight-Captain."

The templar mirrored the gesture though with a markedly different attitude. Clearly unimpressed with the inconvenience he had been subjected to in her name over the last few hours, Elissa doubted that the man would tolerate any show of weakness.

"Captain," she began, drawing out the word and praying that her slow delivery would be interpreted as measured rather than floundering. "Captain, please, I must first apologise for any offence that I have unwittingly caused you." The unexpected flow of words helped to bolster her crumbling confidence and she clutched at the opportunity to press forward. "I sincerely hope you believe that I would not dare to presume to interfere in the workings of the Circle unless requested by either your Commander or the Grand Cleric. I can only hope you are able to forgive the misunderstanding."

The man gave a begrudging shake of his head. "It was not your misunderstanding, Hero. The mage should have listened more closely."

Elissa fought to suppress the crippling ache which flooded through her at the use of the title. One word which somehow encapsulated all that she had lost through the process of attaining it. But such thoughts were of little relevance to the task at hand and with a shuddering sigh, Elissa risked a glance towards Oghren.

Catching the dwarf's eye, the sense of obligation she had always felt towards her ragtag band of companions resurfaced and helped to strengthen her resolve. Oghren may not have requested that she smoothe over his request but it did not change the fact that her word would be valued more than his. He needed her, just as Leliana did; that was what she had to clutch onto.

Even as the thought articulated itself in her head, she heard herself murmur,"I will not forget this consideration, Captain." It was not the first time her mouth had run away from her but in this instance, she was glad. Tearing her attention away from Oghren, Elissa refocused on the templar and continued, "I am aware that Ferelden already owes you a great debt for he contribution you and your men made towards the defeat of the Archdemon. It cannot have been a simple matter to escort as many as twelve mages from the security of the Circle."

The stare of the Knight-Captain festered into a glower. "There was also the matter of the apostate."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oghren about to open his mouth and shot him a withering look. She was barely holding this together without having to compensate for the dwarf's all too ready insults.

Oghren blinked but shut his mouth and returned to examining the top of his boots.

"Yes, Captain," she forced out. "I have been informed of the unfortunate incident. Let me assure you however that your diligence in this particular matter has not gone unnoticed.

"His... Majesty's," the garbled addition of the title suggested that the Captain had been about to forget his place as his fervour got the better of him, "interference meant that the apostate was able to escape."

"Yes," Elissa allowed her eyes to close briefly. She was almost certain the templar would interpret it as regret that Morrigan had not been persuaded on the virtues of the Chantry but in truth, the reference to the Witch had thrown her. All the initial doubt and fear which the Witch's ritual had prompted threatened to cloud her judgement once more.

"Hero?"

She flinched but clung onto the pain which shot through her, using it as a means of clearing her head once more. Opening her eyes, she remarked, "that is a battle for another day though, wouldn't you agree Captain?"

A scowl darkened his features. "I do not see that I have much choice in the matter. My attentions must be focused elsewhere for the moment."

"Quite, which brings us back to the issue at hand. I would be grateful if you would permit me to ask two favours from you."

"Two?"

Elissa turned to Oghren and the genuine affection she felt towards the dwarf eased the effort it took to summon a smile. "Yes, it seems that Lake Calenhad will become home to two of my closest friends."

The dwarf rolled his eyes but he was unable to prevent the self-conscious grin which pulled at the corners of his mouth; Oghren was a romantic in his own, very unique, way. The sight of his contentment helped to brighten her own smile and she turned back to the Knight-Captain with a burst of renewed vigour.

"Captain, I ask that you permit Leliana to return with you to Kinloch Hold and that Oghren may accompany you on your journey."

The Knight-Captain turned and eyed the dwarf at his side with open contempt. "And what's a dwarf want outside of Orzammar?"

"He has business at the Spoiled Princess," Elissa intervened before an retaliatory insult about to erupt from Oghren. "He only wishes to travel with you and I am certain that he would be willing to bolster the defensive capabilities of your men while in your company. Isn't that right, Oghren?"

The dwarf grunted.

"Please, Captain," she needled the man. "I would consider these acts to be a personal favour to me."

Sullen-faced, he muttered, "I will require a document clearly outlining these requests which can be presented to the Knight-Commander should he object."

"Certainly, Captain. I would not expect you to put your commission at risk."

"Very well." The words were spoken with all the enthusiasm of a man condemned. "But I have no wish to remain in Denerim much longer. We must return to Kinloch Hold."

"I am certain that both Leliana and Oghren will fit in with whatever schedule suits you best."

"I trust I can expect assistance from His Majesty?" the Captain raised an eyebrow. "Carts, supplies and such?"

Her mouth dried as her bravado faltered but having come so far, she refused to entertain the idea of defeat. It was not an unfair request, after all and, given some time, she was certain she could uncover a means by which to circumvent actually having to make the request of... him.

Elissa did not trust herself to vocalise any further remark but she succeeded in offering an earnest nod as means of agreement.

"Then it seems I have preparations to see to," the templar remarked. "Unless you wish something further of me, Hero?"

"No, Captain," she replied in a hoarse voice.

"I hope we will have the opportunity to talk further before you leave, Hero," the man bowed before turning on heel and marching away towards the main entrance.

Oghren snorted. "Sodding templars. Lyrium-heads, the lot of them."

"Oghren!" She made to teasingly rebuke him but her growing weariness meant she misjudged the lightness of tone required and hearing the harshness in her voice, she opted for a change of topic instead. "Why didn't you talk to me about Felsi last night?"

"Heh," the dwarf fidgeted. "Well, you know."

Studying him, Elissa was granted a brief moment of respite from her own heartache. The dwarf had suffered his own share of troubles and he deserved to make a new start after all that had happened with Branka in the Deep Roads. She rested a hand against his shoulder as she remarked quietly, "she'll be lucky to have you, Oghren."

"Too sodding right!"

His eternal misplacement of any modesty shook free a giggle from deep within her. She opened her mouth to retort when the taint began to ring in her head and scattered her thoughts. For a moment, she froze in panic before realising that it was not the one song she was familiar with. Still, she had no intention of enduring a meeting with any Grey Warden, Orlesian or Fereldan.

"Come on," she gestured that Oghren was to follow her. "Quick. I promised I would sit with Leliana and I know she'll want to know everything. You can tell us what you've been up to."

"Reckon someone else might be wanting your company first," the dwarf gestured behind her with a jerk of his head.

Irritation that she had been caught despite her intentions swelled up inside of her and she encouraged the sensation to flood through her, using it as a means of pushing aside the urge to run and hide.

Throwing a haughty look over her shoulder, she recognised the elven Second. He caught her look and returned it with one of disdain.

"Cousland."

"Second," she muttered.

"Commander, actually."

He stopped a few paces from her as he made the remark so that she was forced to turn fully in order to study him. His mouth was twisted in distaste but there was no indication that he had any intention of expanding on the statement as to whether he was the new Commander of the Orlesian or Fereldan Grey.

"You don't seem impressed by your promotion."

"I am merely a political pawn."

"A Warden-Commander in your own right is hardly something to complain about."

"If it was sufficient compensation then you would have claimed the title as your own."

Fereldan Grey, then. A small lurch in her stomach reminded her of her pride which crept into the empty chasm of her chest and entwined around the shattered fragments of her heart. Ridiculous considering the circumstances but there it was; wounded pride that she had not been given the position. Struggling to draw breath, she rasped, "I was not given the opportunity to claim it."

"Unsurprising since you have not proven yourself worthy of it."

"Hey!" Oghren bristled, taking offence on her behalf.

Elissa waved a hand at the dwarf in a signal that he ignore the remark. Faintly, she attenpted to save face with a small shrug. "If he wants the position then he can have it."

"I did not wish this, Cousland." A flash of anger streaked across the elf's face and he clenched his fists. "My promotion is neither desired nor earned. I have no interest in becoming involved with the tensions that exist between nations or races but it seems that very wish is my undoing."

The success with which she had provoked such a reaction, especially as she had not intended to, distracted her from her preoccupations. Relfecting on the statement, Elissa began to frown. The remark, for all the bitterness it was steeped in, was remarkably astute and it was becoming clear that for all his simmering rage, the elf was no fool.

"There are details which must be discussed," Torih spoke through gritted teeth. "Our presence is required by the Commander, Arl and King."

"Quite the sodding list," Oghren observed with a grunt.

The blood drained from her face as she realised what was to be required of her. "No. No, I'm not... I refuse to be summoned... tell them, tell them that..."

Torih sneered at her. "I am no messenger, Cousland."

"Sent to fetch her, ain't ya?"

The dwarf had good intentions but his comment only served to grate on her already frayed nerves and she lost her patience. "Oghren! Go!" She gestured to a door across the entrance hallway which led to the staircase to the upper levels of the estate. "Go and see Leliana. Up those stairs, second floor, first door on the left. Just, go!"

If Oghren had had the sense to slink away then it might have appeased her somewhat. As it was, a wide grin appeared on his face before he decided to accept the opportunity to remove himself from the vicinity of the Orlesian Warden.

Watching him able away from them, Elissa kept her mouth shut until he disappeared up the stairs before making her defiant, or desperate, stand against the elf. "I have no interest in hearing what any of you say."

"You are under the mistaken impression that we care," the elf remarked before signalling that she should begin walking. "Cousland, I have no desire to look upon you let alone have you as my Second. Not only did you abandon your duty but you somehow circumvented the only act which could have redeemed you. I do not know how you survived but I am certain that it was not by fair means and your survival disgraces the four who went before you. Trust me when I say that I am as uninterested in your opinion as you are in mine."

Sifting through the rant to the only detail which truly affected her, Elissa echoed faintly, "your Second?"

"You may direct your questions to the Arl and Commander." Stepping forward, the elf grasped at her elbow with a surprising strength—or perhaps it was because she finally acknowledged how tired she was of always somehow having to fight—and propelled her in the direction of the study. "Now, move."

Many thanks to EasternViolet for her beta talents!

Thank you for reading :)