This chapter is dedicated to Shacary. Here you go, girlfriend! Hope it will not dissappoint as I am about wrote out this weekend.

A special shout goes to my friend Enaid Aderyn and her story "Recreation" - it's worth a smile or two.

Thank you everyone for everything. I hold you all close to my heart. Thank you! Galesong1234

Chapter 14

Plans in Motion

Alistair and Eamon walked ahead, their heads bent in casual conversation. They turned the corner, neither looking back. I was left alone to my own thoughts, "When did Alistair start making decisions? Moreover, that was his decision. What was the difference?"

"Goldanna was the difference," answering my own question.

I had difficulty believing that she was Alistair's sister, even though he insisted otherwise. The harpy had dejected his claim and booted us out. I wanted to rip out her throat for causing Alistair grief. Instead, I pulled him away and focused on Denerim's square, not before telling him that he alone had the power to change his world.

I hastened my pace to find Alistair. During my reverie I had lost track of them. I bumbled through another doorway nearly colliding with a servant. Alistair and his uncle were nowhere to be found. For a few short breaths the inner child in me panicked. I was reminded of the first time I was sent to Tower as well as the first time I left. Each harbored significantly different events, yet both frightened me in their immensity.

In the last year I had shed my robes as a mage, both heart and soul. I have gutted and drunk the blood of darkspawn, an ends to a means. I have spilled the blood of my enemies and some not. I have helped in the capture my friend, Jowan – a painful solution. I had stared into the face of temptation, killing demon and child. I have rejected the advances of a persistent elf assassin. The one thing that stood above them all, I lost my heart to a templer.

After the fall of Ostagar, the death of the king, Duncan and the rest of the grey wardens, Alistair had left me to pick up the pieces. To what end? For this – we defeating the blight all hinged on us gaining favor at the Landsmeet so that a templer may become king.

Servants hustled about doing their tedious lots. I was told that most of them were city elves. They were third class citizens who, for all purposes, might as well be a slave. As luck would have it, one noticed my plight and wordlessly showed me to my room.

A hospitable fire projected a friendly glow over the cold grey stones, as did the tapestries that hung on them. Couches laden with embroidered pillows appealed to my weariness. The four-bolster bed to the side of the room held the promise of something later. It was grander than anything I had ever slept in or could remember; yet, it lacked the one thing I sought – Alistair.

I turned to ask the young serving girl where the templar was, but she had already left. With a heavy sigh and a much-needed stretch, I flung myself across the bed. I tapped my foot impatiently against the side and waited.

"Maybe it's time to put on that pretty dress I promised you," Alistair jested.

Startled, I shot out of bed, "Where have you been?"

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Alistair held up his hands in warding.

"Bad side?" I shot daggers with my eyes, "I've only just begun." I wanted to beat the conceited grin from his handsome face.

"Ho, ho," Alistair stepped back, "I thought we agreed we like the way I look."

I balled up my fist and swung, "Ouch!" I cradled my hand against my chest, "You're lucky I'm short."

Alistair reached for my hand, "Let me see."

"It's fine…I'm fine…you're fine. It will all be fine," I fumed.

"Yes, I'm fine…you're very fine…and we're definitely fine together," his voice was a sensual caress in my hear, "As for being too short? Mmmm, I would argue differently." He grabbed my hips and thrust himself against me, "See, perfect fit."

"Quit it," It was a feeble protest.

Alistair raised my clenched hand to his mouth and caressed it with his lips. The warmth of his light kisses was nothing compared to the warmth pressed against my waist.

"You want to practice licking lampposts," my lover shamelessly hinted.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Morrigan announced her arrival.

"Err…Umm…we'll get to that a little later, I think." Alistair narrowly escaped being plowed over by one very large qunari.

"Coward," I yelled at Alistair's retreating form.

"This is not as defensive as I wish," entered Sten holding a stack of cookies, "but it will have to do."

"If one more servant ask me if I need another change of clothes," Morrigan complained, "I will set the house on fire," referring to her lack of clothing.

I walked over to the fire and plopped down on the couch, "Maker, help me."

"You went where?" Alistair paced around the immense dining table in an obvious tirade.

"I went to the Pearl," I picked up an apple and studied it. We had just returned from our little jaunt into Denerim when Alistair came looking for me.

"You went to a whorehouse," I watched the muscles in Alistair's jaw tighten as he worked to control his anger. Truth be told, I was more stunned that he knew what one was.

"I didn't go alone, if that's what you're worried about," I took a bite out of the apple and chewed, "I went with Zev."

"Oh! That's even better," He threw up his hands, "To play kissy-face with the elf?"

"What, you don't trust me now?" more than just slightly annoyed.

"I don't trust him," Alistair motioned with his chin.

"Hey," Zev raised his hands before him, "I'm the innocent one here, yes?" He had been patiently standing there the whole time enjoying the show.

"Rendan Howe hired someone named Peadan," I flung the note at him, "And his goons…to kill us."

"You've could have been hurt," his expression softened.

"She can take care of herself," Zev interrupted. "She's really quite good," he winked at me and smiled, "With a sword."

Alistair took a step forward, his anger renewed. He cupped my chin and turned my face, "Then what do you call that?"

My hand flew to my cheek, "A scratch." Alistair was commenting on the scrape I received from my assailant's armor while ducking out of the way.

"Don't be so absurd, Alistair," I jerked my chin out of his grasp, "Your uncle is waiting for us."

"I know when I'm not welcome," Zevran moved to the table and poured him some wine, "I'll just wait here, no?"

"Ah, Warden," Eamon motioned for me to enter, "I trust you've made yourself comfortable?" Alistair was fast on my heels and made a B-line for the bookshelves.

"Yes," I graciously shook the hand he offered, "Very nice."

"Good. Because it's likely to be your last rest for a while." It seemed I had just become Eamon's favorite person, or did I detect a hint of irony in his sincerity?

"This is Erlina, she's…"

"I am Queen Anora's handmaiden. She sent me here to ask for your help."

I folded my arms and waited, "Why would Loghain's daughter want to help us?"

"The Queen, she is in a difficult position," Erlina careened uncomfortably, "She loved her husband, no…and trusted her father to protect him. When he returns with no king and only dark rumors, what does she think?"

"Obviously, there is a point to this story…Just get to it." I was tired of listening to this woman. For the first time, since leaving the Tower, I felt trapped. Like a caged animal, I wanted to run.

"She worries, no? But when she tries to speak with him he does not answer. So she goes to Howe and she demands answers."

"You waist my time," I turned to leave.

"I think her life is in danger," she hastened, "I heard Howe say she would be a greater ally dead than alive," her eyes darted from me to Eamon, "Especially if her death could be blamed on Arl Eamon."

I studied the dark-haired elf with newfound interest, "Give me one good reason to believe this crazy story."

"Because you do not want Loghain ruling Ferelden, and if Anora can speak at the Landsmeet…her voice can sway the nobles."

(Alistair)

I was still reeling from my argument with Chandra,when we entered into my uncle's chambers, that I paid little attention to the elf's request. I finally found something that made sense in my life. That someone was Chandra and now that was being taken away from me as well. The more I tried to keep her close, the further I pushed her away.

Don't go, please! This could be a trap." She ignored me while she strapped on her blades.

"You heard what your uncle said," she turned her back to me and I helped her cinch up her armor, "We don't have a choice."

"Then send the others instead," I appealed.

"I have a debt to pay." She said it in a way that it sounded like she was going to sacrifice herself, and I didn't like it one bit.

"This is killing me," I spun her around to face me, "Knowing that you're in danger and I can't be there." She smiled and I knew I had already been dismissed.

"You're gonna have to get use to this, Alistair," My heart somersaulted when she spoke my name, "As king, you will have to send others to do your bidding...including me." This was another reason to hate being King Maric's bastard son.

"You're more important to me than anything," I was desperate, "Including the crown."

I followed her out the door to where the assassin waited, "If something happens to her, Zevran…I will have your head."

"Regardless of what I may feel about you, Alistair…it doesn't change how I feel about her." Chandra stood quietly and watched our exchange.

I didn't care that Zevran was standing there or even my uncle. If Andraste, herself, materialized, I still wouldn't have cared as I crushed her to me and branded her with my lips. Kissing Chandra was like breathing, I could't live without.

"I love you," I mouthed against the side of beautiful face.

"I know," she uttered as I watched her slip away.