Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter. My youngest has officially graduated from high school (heavy sigh) and I managed to slip my L5 disc (even heavier sigh). Anyway, I would like to thank those who have stood by and put on their favorites or alerts list. You are ever awesome.

If you are new to my story, please don't give up its gonn'a pickup by next chapter. Much thanks, Galesong

Chapter 8

Genitivi for the Tasting

I stared at him blankly, "It was better this way," I thought myself.

He didn't say, but I knew what he was thinking, "Better for whom?"

"It was better this way…better for him," the voice in my head reminded me.

He turned and walked away, "Better for him or better for you?"

The door of the chantry shut quietly behind him, "Better for me," I whispered out loud to myself.

Alistair had left the chantry. I stared at the door hollowly, expecting him to return at any moment. Sten was examining his sword and Zev was plundering the dead. "Just another day in the life of a warden," I said out loud and to no one in particular, "Best day of my life, when I joined."

I picked myself off the ground and looked about the room, "Wow! A chantry that comes with a dining table, imagine that."

Candlelight illuminated the dreary room. Fluttery shadows danced across the books that lined the walls. I pulled one out and thumbed through its musty pages, nothing. I walked over to a desk, in the corner of the room, containing old discolored scrolls. I unfurled one, two, and then three and shook my head. What was I expecting? A map telling me where Andraste's Ashes were? This day was fast becoming tedious. I was about to call the whole thing off when it hit me like a brick wall.

"Looks like you found something," Zev replied behind me.

"Don't say it," I cut him off, "Maybe? Besides it stuck out like a stuffed pig."

"What, exactly, did you think I was going to say," the assassin questioned.

"My beautiful grey warden," I supplied. I leaned into the wall and pressed my weight against it. Nothing happened.

"I recall you asking me not to call you that, No? Here, let me show you where to put your hands," Zev teased, "my tantalizing sex goddess." I bit down of my lips to hide my smile as I stepped aside to let the elf work his trade. Zev's hands moved slowly over the surface of the wall. I noted when he took special care at the points and valleys. In the end, the outcome was still the same.

I tapped my lips thoughtfully with my index finger, "I think I have it." I silently mouthed an incantation and inscribed the glyph on the wall. It would neutralize any magic had there been any. I gave the wall another frustrated shove, "Well, that didn't work,"

"Stand aside," Sten ordered. The giant took a moment to prop his two-handed sword against the wall. He reached behind and slid his double-sided ax out of its sheath. It was easily the length of an elf and the weight of a human.

"Ah, I see you plan to use brute strength to take the wall down, my friend," Zevran replied undaunted by the giant.

"I am not your friend," reminded Sten.

Sten elevated the battle ax to his extensive chest. Zev and I exchanged looks and quickly got out of his way. I had seen him use it on several occasions. I remembered well one gruesome sight. He had separated a man, cleanly in two, in one swing. Sten's grip tightened around the handle as he tested its weight. Then he poised his ax overhead, swung it around and lightly tapped the wall in a testing blow. A breeze caught at my hair as the ax swooshed back again. He roared his battle cry. I clamped my hands over my ears and waited. Sten reached out and pulled on the wall. I arched my brow somewhat surprised as the wall miraculously slid away to reveal a hidden room.

"I didn't see that one coming, my big friend," replied Zev as he rubbed his pointed chin thoughtfully.

"That was my plan," Sten stepped aside to let me enter.

I regarded the giant, "Sten, I believe that was a joke."

Sten slid his battle ax back into place and picked up his broadsword, "No. Shall we move on...Darkspawn are waiting."

"You really need to loosen up, my giant friend," Zev patted Sten's arm affectionately then followed me into the room. Sten made his typical growl. Or was that a grumble?

(Alistair)

"This is your fault. I hate you," I repeated her words in my head several times. I needed to understand. I wanted to understand. Even if she was the most confusing woman I have ever had the audacity to encounter.

"What is your choice, Alistair?" I took a drink from my water skin then wiped away the dribble with the back of my hand, "Maker help me, I love her."

The sound of Sten's battle cry ended my reflections, misguided as they were. I stormed into the chantry to investigate expecting to see more fighting. Instead, I was greeted with Chandra's, normally restrained, features lit up by her laughter, "…and that smile was directed at that damnable elf."

I was completely oblivious to her as I entered the chantry. I followed them to the secret chamber and waited at the doorway.

"Who are you? They…they've sent you to finish it?" groaned the elder man strapped across a long table. His voice was week but that didn't stop him from lifting his head to ascertain who we were.

"Finish what," Chandra questioned. She either was ignoring me or she still didn't know that I was there. I chose to hover in the shadows.

"Me. Finish me off," the elder man supplied. His voice was thin and weak.

"I have nothing to do with the villagers," Chandra started untying the bonds that held his hands.

"You don't know how glad I am to see someone who isn't from this village," he groaned once more. He had difficulty lifting his numb hands.

I rested my head against the wall and listened to Chandra's soft whispers as she summoned her healing magic. Her invocations were the only calm part of Chandra's intense personality.

"Does that feel better," she questioned.

"Much better," the elderly man held up his hands and flexed his fingers.

"Can you tell us how you got here?" Chandra's voice was soft but persistent.

"I was seeking out Andraste's resting place and…"

"Brother Genitivi?" In two strides I was at Chandra's side. She begrudgingly gave up her spot. "We need the ashes to heal Earl Eamon!" I was hard pressed to control my excitement. We were so close.

Brother Genitivi smiled in acknowledgement. It was more of a relieved sigh, "The leg's not doing well…and I can't feel my foot."

"Let's see if we can't make that better as well," Chandra's voice was patient and sincere. She quickly went to task of cutting away the bloodied pant leg.

I heard the sharp intake of Chandra's breath as she parted the fabric, "Alistair?" The flesh, below the knee, had been carved away. All that remained was bone and some tendons attached to a foot. The color drained from Chandra's face, "I'm sorry; I can't save…"

"My leg," Genitivi interrupted, "Do what you must, girl. I don't have time to rest now. I'm so close. The urn is just up the mountain."

"You're brave for an old man," Chandra teased.

"Not nearly as much as you think," Genitivi proclaimed, "Determined is more like it."

"I will do my best to ease your suffering, old man." Bluish light penetrated and surrounded Genitivi's body as Chandra called forth her healing magic. The lines in the old man's gaunt face slowly began to relax. Chandra motioned to me and the bloody elf, "You both will need to hold him down."

Chandra formed a tourniquet around Genitivi's leg, just above the knee, and tightened it. Beads of sweat moistened her forehead as she continued her healing spell. She stepped aside and indicated for Sten to do his part. With great precision the qunari relieved the old man of his damaged leg. Brother Genitivi's face remained relaxed indicating that he wasn't in any pain. There was nothing any one of us could do as we continued to watch her deft ministrations. She enshrouded her dagger in arcane flame and brought it down on the open wound. The acrid smell of burnt flesh clung to the air as she held the glowing blade in place. Chandra's face paled to an ashen white as she called on final reserves to close the wound. We watched as flesh and tendon knitted itself together until the leg formed a stump below the knee.

Chandra held on to the table to support herself as she slumped over Genitivi. Strands of sweat dampened hair clung to her forehead and across her pale face. This time I did not come to her aid, instead I waited. She remained as such for a time. Then she turned and faced me. I saw the exhaustion and I heard her ragged breath. I willed her to look at me, "Chandra," my eyes implored.

The movement was small, almost nonexistent, as she reached for me. She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment as she considered me. Then she turned her back to me. With a heavy step she walked over to her discarded pack and pulled out a bottle of lyrium. I watched the muscles of her neck work as she swallowed the vile blue liquid that would replenish her manna.

Whatever the differences we had with one another this day; one thing was for sure, we all left here with a better appreciation for our leader and her magic.