Chapter 11 - Dance, Dance Revelations

A couple of hours later Nathaniel walked into the taproom to find Oghren and Anders already situated at a small table on the other side of the room.

"Howe! You joining in on the festivities?" Anders called as he approached them.

Nathaniel nodded as he pulled up a chair and ordered a drink from a barmaid. He hadn't missed the shock on either of their faces when he joined them.

So either Alyx didn't tell them I was invited or they didn't think I would actually show, he mused to himself.

"Where's the Commander?" he asked after taking a healthy swig from his tankard.

"The innkeeper offered to have her armor cleaned. One of them barmaids is findin' somethin' for her to wear in the meantime," Oghren said in his usual gruff manner.

"So what made you decide to join us? Not that I'm complaining. I'm just…curious," Anders asked nonchalantly.

Nathaniel shrugged.

"I wanted a drink."

"Well…alright then," Anders said, obviously not quite believing him. "But if you're to drink with us you should know the rules. Rule number one: Never agree to a drinking contest with Oghren…ever."

"Speaking from experience, Anders?"

"Unfortunately…yes."

"Ha! It's not my fault you topsiders can't hold yer booze," Oghren growled. "Sparkle-fingers here didn't even make it past the first round."

"Yes, because everyone counts a baker's dozen of ales as one round," Anders complained.

"Orzammar rules," Oghren replied with a shrug.

"So you keep saying, but until I've actually been to Orzammar I'm withholding judgment," Anders replied.

"Suit yerself, mage," Oghren grumbled before turning his attention to Nathaniel. "So, tell me, Howe. This whole quiet and stoic thing you got goin'…must get ye' a lot of action, eh?"

"I take it you are an admirer Oghren?" Nathaniel queried, a wicked smile crossing his lips.

"What? No! No—not unless…no!" Oghren sputtered.

"Which brings me to rule number two," Anders interjected. "Never get drunk alone with Oghren…and before you ask, he tried to pick a fight with me. Claimed I was in cahoots with Hector to steal his pants…which he was still wearing I might add."

"Sodding dog. I'm onto him," Oghren muttered, producing an eye-roll from Anders.

"Another round for ye loves, compliments of yer Commander" a pretty red-headed barmaid chirped with a wink as she sat three tankards on the table in front of them. "She's a lucky gal, to have three strappin' lads such as yerselves as drinking companions, so's I just got done tellin' 'er."

"She's here? I didn't even see her walk in," Anders said excitedly as he craned his neck to look for her.

"Jest popped in a moment ago, love. She's over talkin' to Alma," the barmaid cooed, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the bar.

Nathaniel spotted her just as he heard Anders sharp intake of breath. She was standing at the end of the bar talking with a stocky woman with graying hair and a pleasant smile. He'd become so accustomed to seeing Alyx in leather armor that he hardly recognized her in the simple, homespun dress that she wore. The soft greens and blues of the coarse material were a stunning combination against her creamy skin and dark hair. From this distance she could almost be mistaken for just another barmaid…if it weren't for the ramrod straight posture and distinctive regal presence that marked her as the noblewoman that she was. Her skin was tinged pink, warm and glowing from her bath, and her hair was free of the tight coils she usually wore at her neck. A few tendrils had been pulled back and loosely braided into a rope tied off with a piece of string; the rest flowed in waves down her back nearly to her waist. As startling as her sudden change in appearance was, it was nothing in comparison to the change in her demeanor. The ever-present weariness had left her features and was replaced with a subtle mirth dancing within her cobalt eyes. It made her seem younger; almost carefree in lieu of the serious attitude of the battle-hardened Commander they had all become accustomed to. As he watched she leaned down to listen to something the dwarven bartender was saying, then threw her head back and laughed loud enough to be heard across the room.

"Now that's my girl," Oghren sighed with a contented smile as he relaxed back into his chair.

Nathaniel exchanged a look with Anders, but the mage didn't seem to know what he meant either, judging by the clueless look on his face. Suddenly Oghren turned and glared at Nathaniel.

"Jest what did ye' say to her earlier to make her so chipper?" he asked, eyes narrowing speculatively.

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow in question, but otherwise kept an even expression to hide his surprise.

"Oh, the usual…that I killed all the darkspawn, named her mabari the new Arl of Amaranthine…then of course we made mad, passionate love behind the chantry," he replied in mock seriousness.

Oghren nearly choked on his drink at Nathaniel's words and Anders simply stared at him in shock before hooting with laughter.

"Humor…from you, Howe? I'm impressed. I didn't even know you had it in you—uh—I mean—that is to say—" Anders began, sputtering when he realized what he was saying.

"It's alright, Anders. I haven't done anything to prove otherwise," Nathaniel replied calmly.

"Gentleman," Alyx interrupted as she finally approached them, drink in hand.

"Commander," Oghren muttered, raising his tankard in a silent toast.

Alyx patted him on the shoulder before taking a seat in an empty chair between the dwarf and Anders. She took a long draught of her ale, only looking up when she realized the three men were still staring at her. One fine eyebrow arched in question as she looked at each of them in turn.

"What?" she asked obviously amused.

"You look like a girl," Anders said in awe.

"I am a girl," she laughed, playfully punching him in the arm.

"Right. It's easy enough to forget when you're spitting obscenities and covered in darkspawn blood," Anders replied cheekily.

"I guess I could see that," she mused.

"Well, now that yer here we can finally get the party started," Oghren said, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

"No drinking contests, Oghren," she replied sternly.

"See, she knows the rules," Anders said to Nathaniel as he playfully nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Ah, yer no fun, Falcon. How 'bout a game of truth or dare then?" Oghren said.

"Really Oghren?" she said in exasperation, rolling her eyes.

"Come on! Truth or dare was always a good time durin' the blight, or have you forgotten already? He-he," Oghren said, eyebrows waggling suggestively as he chuckled.

Judging from the blush that jumped to the Commander's cheeks, she for one must have had a lot of fun with the game in question. Hmm, interesting, Nathaniel thought as he tried not to chuckle at her expression.

"Oh, very well, if the others are game…and no dares that will harm the reputation of the Order, Oghren, I mean it."

"Fine. Anders? Truth or dare?" Oghren began.

"Dare," Anders answered swiftly.

"I dare you to proposition that lass over there."

"Which one?"

"The one with the nice rack and blonde ringlets standing by the hearth."

"Is that all?" he asked, a wicked sparkle dancing in his eyes. "Watch and learn, dwarf."

He stood up and made a show of brushing off his robes and smoothing his hair before turning and walking across the room to speak with the young woman in question.

"Why that particular woman, Oghren?" Alyx asked curiously as soon as the mage was out of earshot.

"He-he, overheard her talkin' bout becoming a chantry initiate. This should be interesting," Oghren replied.

"Oghren! What did I just say!" Alyx cried.

"Aww, come on, Falcon. I'm jest havin' a bit o' fun with the skirt-wearin' freak, and if he somehow succeeds, well, then you'll thank me later."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," Alyx replied coolly, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Sure, sure…if you say so, kid," Oghren replied dismissively.

Anders was talking in earnest with the young woman, who appeared to be eating up every word. She was both young and lovely, with a curvaceous figure, perfectly quaffed hair and large green eyes framed by luscious dark lashes, but it was obvious even from across the room that she was an innocent. Anders bent his head to say something low in her ear, but whatever it was did not meet with the young lady's approval. She gasped and slapped him hard across the cheek. Oghren hooted with laughter as the red-faced mage stomped back to their table, glaring at the chortling dwarf.

"Right. You'll pay for that my smelly little friend," Anders fumed as he plopped back down into his chair.

"Bring it on, son," Oghren replied through his hysterics.

"Oh no, repayment will be when you least expect it, dwarf. Nathaniel? Truth or dare?" Anders said.

"Truth," he answered, knowing that nothing good could come from either choice.

"Just what did you do all that time in the Free Marches?" Anders asked.

Nathaniel was startled by his question, but it seemed the mage was truly curious.

"Well, I was squired there from the age of sixteen. When my…term ended, I took whatever work that was available. Mostly scouting, hunting and tracking though I would sometimes pick up more…colorful work. Thus, news from Fereldan rarely reached us until many months after the fact," he explained. "We hadn't even heard about the blight until it was nearly over, and by then there wasn't enough gold in all of Thedas to entice a ship captain to sail to Fereldan."

"You were a mercenary?" Anders exclaimed as he picked out the subtle meaning behind his words.

"From time to time, though it's hardly something I am proud of. I did what I had to in order to survive."

"So that's how you learned so much about poisons," Alyx murmured, leaning back in her chair as she scrutinized him appreciatively.

"Indeed it was. Where did you learn? That's certainly not a skill you would've picked up in Highever."

"Are you not at least going to give me the option of a dare, Nate?" she teased him.

"I'm not counting this as my turn," Nathaniel replied.

"Very well, if you must know it was from an Antivan Crow that traveled with us during the blight."

"You keep unusual company, Commander," Nathaniel replied, eyeing her speculatively before leaning towards her and saying, "Truth or dare?" in a husky voice.

"Truth," she answered.

"What were my Father's last words?" he asked calmly.

He had hoped she would say truth for this very reason. He hadn't been comfortable asking this during their earlier conversation, but now she would have to answer. Anders and Oghren both shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the silence that met his query began to draw out.

"Nate, I—"

"I promise I won't get angry. I'm simply curious," he assured her.

She swallowed hard before turning her eyes away from his momentarily. When she looked back at him her eyes were full of sadness.

"I deserved more," she nearly whispered.

It took a moment for Nathaniel to realize that this was his answer. As the full impact of the words hit him he let out a hard, humorless laugh.

"It figures, actually," he ground out, his jaw setting into a hard line. Damn my father and his ambiton! He screamed in his head, though his expression remained level and passive. "Thank you for telling me."

She nodded at him, and then mustered up a smile as she tried to inject some humor back into the game.

"Anders?"

"Dare, my Lady," Anders drawled with a cheeky grin.

"I dare you to drink the entire contents of Oghren's wine skin," she replied with a devilish grin.

"Hey!" Oghren cried.

"You have an entire barrel of that stuff back at the keep, Oghren," Alyx replied practically.

"So I do. Here sparkle-fingers, try not to choke on it," Oghren said, resigned as he handed Anders the skin.

Anders uncorked the top and took a cautious sniff, wrinkling his nose in disgust but dutifully raising it to his lips. He took one sip and then promptly choked, spraying the contents as he gagged.

"What the hell is this stuff?" he gasped as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Dragon's piss," Oghren replied proudly.

"Ugh! I wish I hadn't asked," Anders said.

"Drink up Anders. The challenge was to drink all of it," Alyx laughed.

"You are an evil, evil woman," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Very well, but someone else will have to take my turn while I drink the rest of this vile stuff."

"Falcon?" Oghren said, obviously deciding that he would be the one to take Anders' turn.

"Dare," she replied, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I dare you to plant one on Howe, and I mean a real kiss, on the lips, and not some wise-arsed peck on the cheek," Oghren challenged.

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up at this though he was well aware this particular dare was not for his benefit. Oghren was eyeing Anders carefully for a reaction, and judging by the wide smirk on his face, he had not been disappointed. No doubt the dwarf wished to level the playing field for their ridiculous wager. Glancing at Anders he noted the mage's face had gone pale as his hazel eyes narrowed in anger at Oghren. If Alyx noticed this exchange, she did not comment on it. Instead she rolled her eyes and stood up to cross to his side of the table. Nathaniel froze as she laid her hands gently on his shoulders and tossed him a small, apologetic smile.

A portion of her hair fell over one shoulder enticingly as she leaned down towards him, making his hands twitch at the sudden impulse to run his fingers through the russet locks. He breathed in deeply as she dipped her head and was immediately immersed in her fresh, clean scent. It was a subtle mixture of soap, leather, and the unexpected hint of something more exotic…jasmine perhaps, though he wasn't sure. His mind ground to an abrupt halt as his senses took precedence, everything else falling away as her lips gently pressed against his, warm and soft. It was a swift kiss; nothing more than a quick brush of the lips, but it was enough to cause every fiber in his body to react. Lust burned through his blood, hard and fast. It took all of his focus to keep from reaching out to bring her mouth back to his, if only to show her what the definition of a real kiss was. The realization left him inwardly reeling and cursing at the same time. Anders had been right all along. For better or worse, Nathaniel wanted her, and he didn't know quite what to think of that.

He ventured a glance at Alyx's face as she pulled away, noting the subtle look of confusion in her eyes as well as the attractive flush of color that had crept into her cheeks. Judging by her reaction, he wasn't the only one affected by the brief encounter.

Then again, it could just be the ale, he thought sulkily.

"That was pathetic, woman," Oghren growled.

"Perhaps, but I believe that it met your requirements," she answered in clipped tones before dropping back into her chair.

"I'll take my turn now," Anders announced determinately as he finished the contents of the skin and passed it back to Oghren. "My Lady, truth or dare?"

"Truth," she answered.

Anders was obviously crestfallen at her choice of truth. No doubt he wished to steal a kiss of his own, and Nathaniel was willing to bet that the mage would not let such an opportunity pass without getting a good, long taste of her. Nathniel bristled at the very idea.

Easy, Howe, he told himself. She's your Commander, remember? Not to mention the fact that she killed your father and took your home, though the mantra didn't quite carry the same weight as it once had. It was strange to think that just this morning he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her, and now he could barely control the desire to kiss her again.

Anders quickly recovered from his disappointment and soon the wicked sparkle returned to his eyes as he asked his question.

"Tell us, my dear. When and to whom did you lose your virginity to?"

"Ugh, really Anders?"

"Inquiring minds want to know," he crooned as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Fine. I was sixteen and in a rebellious faze, and he a knight in my Father's service," she answered.

"Why rebellious?" Anders asked, intrigued.

"If you must know, it was just before my seventeenth birthday and my Mother was planning an extravagant fete in my honor. What she had not told me, and I had discovered by accident, was that she invited every nobleman in Fereldan with an eligible son to partake in the festivities. When I confronted her she said it was high time I started considering my options...options meaning which one of the selfish bastards I would marry so I could produce more grand-babies for her to spoil. I was furious and desperate to do something, anything to put a dent in her plans, so I seduced my best friend."

"Not that," Anders chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her tale. "Poor man. No doubt he promptly fell in love with you."

"Maker, I hope not! If he did he never told me, but we both knew nothing could ever come of it. That is precisely why I chose him in the first place. I would lose my virginity to someone I cared about instead of some pompous horse's ass who believed it his right, and he would reap the…uh…obvious benefits from such an arrangement. He and I remained friends, and every once in awhile when the mood struck us, we would be lovers. Nearly gave Fergus a heart attack once when he caught us making love in the barn. I don't know what he wanted to do more, throttle poor Roland or burn his own eyes out with acid."

"I can't believe it! You gave your virginity to Roland Gilmore?" Nathaniel interjected. "Surly you could have done better, Lex."

"I'll ask you not to call me that, Nathaniel Howe, and no. I do not think I could have done. Ser Gilmore was a fine man. I would have far preferred marrying him over the witless, spoiled sycophants my mother insisted on parading in front of me, but my Father would not have approved. Not that it is worth arguing over now, as the point is moot," she replied hautily, her voice dangerously soft.

"Why would your Father not approve?" Anders asked.

"He was the son of a minor Lord, hardly more than a commoner in the eyes of the nobility. Of course that is not the way I saw it, but this was one topic I could not argue with them about. If I was to be leg-shackled, it was to be an advantageous marriage or none at all."

"And what of love?"

"Love rarely enters into the picture when it comes to the noble class, Anders. I hadn't even considered it an option until…after…" she began, sorrow halting her words. "At any rate, I wasn't in love with Roland, though I did love him in my way. I miss him."

"What happened to him?" Anders asked softly.

"He gave his life defending the gates the night of the Highever siege," she replied quietly, her gaze briefly shifting to Nathaniel before her attention returned to her ale.

He felt horrible now, teasing her about a man who had died at the hands of his Father's men. Once again they sat in uncomfortable silence. Somehow Nathaniel didn't think this was what Oghren intended when he called for a game of truth or dare.

"My turn again. Oghren?" Alyx chirped after clearing her throat and plastering a smile across her lips.

"Dare," Oghren grunted.

"I dare you to wear one of Anders' robes for the rest of the evening."

"What!" Oghren cried just as Anders said "No! Absolutely not, Falcon!"

"Are you telling me that you refuse to take the dare Ser Dwarf?" she teased, ignoring Anders' outburst.

"I-alright, alright. Point me in the right direction sparkle-fingers."

"Anders?" Alyx prompted.

"Fine. Take the yellow and green one at the bottom of my pack and try not to make a mess," Andes growled, crossing his arms.

Oghren grumbled obscenities as he walked across the room and up the stairs to retrieve the robe and Andes looked sullen about the whole arrangement.

"You do know I'm going to have to burn those robes after he's done with them, right?" he pouted.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you a new pair," she told him distractedly.

"Alright, but I want a nice pair…enchanted, with fur-capped sleeves, leather togs…and preferably in either a nice shade of blue or purple. Ooh! Or maybe in both!"

Alyx sighed heavily, shaking her head in amazement.

"Remind me to introduce you to Leliana one of these days," she murmured.

Oghren's reemergence was met by a wave of laughter. Apparently they were not the only ones to find a dwarf in mage's robes to be humorous. The robes were far too long on him though not quite large enough through the middle. He had attempted to roll the sleeves up for convenience but they kept drooping down past his hands. The side stitching was threatening to give way, being broader in the middle than Anders. Seeing Oghren daintily lifting the hem of the robes like a party dress made them all laugh even harder as he descended the stairs and stomped across the room. Nathaniel expected the dwarf to be spitting mad, but he seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the turn of events.

"Ye' know mage, ye' might jest have a point about these here robes," Oghren said as he ordered another round. "They're nice'n airy like. Can't say I mind lettin' 'Lil Oghren' have the breathin' space."

"Eew! Definitely burning the robes," Anders replied with a shudder.

After the initial reaction to Oghren's grand entrance, things calmed down again and the game was forgotten. Anders regaled them with tales of his many escape attempts from the tower, which made Nathaniel wonder how he ever eluded the templars in the first place. The man was as subtle as a lightning bolt. Oghren and Alyx even exchanged war-stories and outrageous tales of their colorful traveling companions during the blight. The more they drank the more comfortable they all became in each other's company, and soon even Nathaniel was being drawn into the conversation.

Word must have gotten around that the Hero of Fereldan was staying at the inn because suddenly the taproom was filled to capacity. A small group of traveling minstrels set up in the corner of the room and promptly began playing a lively jig. Soon people started to dance, and the atmosphere of the bar rapidly became one of celebration. They all clapped and sang along with the minstrels as they played one familiar tune after the next. One bold young man bounded up to their table and grabbed Alyx by the hand, smoothly pulling her into the dance. Nathaniel would have expected a fight, but she went readily with a laugh on her lips as she grabbed her skirts and whole-heartedly threw herself into the complicated steps.

It was amazing to see her this way, her guard completely down, face flushed with exertion and laughter as she danced with the commoners as if she was one of them. Her hair flew out around her as she twirled in time with the music and her face glowed with pure joy and contentment at the simple pleasure.

The musicians paused to let one of the minstrels pull forth a new instrument from his pack. It was a long ebony pipe that flared out at the end. Immaculate runes were carved into the wood which glowed a subtle blue against the flickering firelight.

Shortly the music began again, the pipe weaving a multi-layered, hypnotic tone through the rest of the tune. A wispy stream of ethereal smoke snaked out of the end and began to twist and change as it pulsed in time to the music. Nathaniel recognized the enchantment immediately, though he hadn't seen this sort of performance for many years.

The wisp darted into the crowd of dancers with astonishing speed, circling one person after another until it stopped in front of a bearded man with bright, red hair. Suddenly the wisp grew and shifted into the image of a mabari, playfully barking and wagging its nub of a tail as it bounced around the red-headed man in delight. Nathaniel knew the wisp would take different forms as it passed through the crowd, bending to the whims of each specific person in turn. The dancers and the watching crowd clapped and laughed as the spectral form changed again and again. The mabari turned into a stag, the stag into a wolf, and the wolf into a scantily clad woman who seductively danced around a group of sailors. The incorporeal woman turned into a hawk that crashed into the chest of a young girl, combusting into a thousand pieces and transforming into a flock of butterflies that swirled around her and made her giggle. And so it continued down the line from dancer to dancer. Nathaniel's eyes widened when the wisp turned into a dragon that breathed an ethereal fire as it looped around an off-duty guardsman. The dragon dipped low to the ground and slithered towards Alyx like a serpant, slowly changing form as it drew closer. It curled into itself until it became a pair of boots, followed by a set of well-muscled legs, an abdomen, broad shoulders, and then finally a head with close-cropped, tousled hair, laughing eyes and a lopsided grin.

Oghren swore colorfully under his breath at the sight of the apparition, and with good reason if Alyx's reaction was anything to judge by. She had gone completely still, her face draining of all its color as the figure closed the distance between them. The apparition stopped directly in front of her, the look on his face turning profound as he eyed her. It was an expression of intense longing; of unadulterated emotions that could only be worn by a man desperately in love. The entity reached up to cup her small face in his hands, slowly lowering his head as if to kiss her, but as his lips were about to claim hers, the man melted into a mist and disappeared altogether.

The music had stopped, as did the dancers who were watching with great interest. Some of them shot her open looks of pity, and others were excitedly gossiping about what they had just witnessed. Alyx had not moved or noticed any of them, her eyes staring unseeing at the spot the phantom man had vanished. She stood like that for a long minute before turning on her heel and walking across the crowded room to the stairs.

"Alyx!" Oghren called after her, his gruff voice thick with emotion.

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had never heard Oghren call her by her given name. Anders stood; obviously meaning to go after her, but Oghren grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Leave her be," he said.

"But—"

"Believe me. She would not thank ye' fer bargin' in. Not when she's like this."

Anders glared at Oghren before shooting a worried look up the stairs. No doubt he had seen the same troublesome expression on her face that Nathaniel had before she had turned and walked away.

"What was that?" Anders asked at the same time Nathaniel asked, "Who was he?"

"That," Oghren said with a heavy sigh "Would be Alistair."

"Alistair…as in the Alistair…the Grey Warden who slayed the archdemon?" Anders gasped.

"Aye, that was him," Oghren replied.

"She loved him," Nathaniel guessed out loud. He recalled Delilah's words from earlier in the day:

Have a care, brother. She lost more than her parents during the blight…

"Aye, that she did, Oghren confirmed."Those two had a bond unlike any I've ever seen. Losin' him, well…she's never been the same since."

"That just doesn't seem like her, to fall to pieces over a man, or anything for that matter," Anders replied.

"Ha! Spoken like a man who's never been in love. Goin' through somethin' like tha' can change a person; even destroy 'em if they let it," Oghren growled, his voice growing thicker with drink and emotion as he stared off into space.

Nathaniel watched the dwarf's face, realizing that there was a deeper meaning to his words then he was letting on. He got the feeling the Oghren was speaking from experience, though he wasn't about to ask. He really knew next to nothing about the dwarf's past beyond his travels with Alyx during the blight. For the first time he wondered if there was an actual explanation behind Oghren's drinking, and not just a bad habit as he assumed. Perhaps that was why the Commander was so tolerant of his behavior.

"What was she like…before?" Anders asked curiously.

"Hehe, like a force of nature, tha' one," Oghren replied warmly as memories swam behind his eyes. "She wasn't called the 'Cousland Spitfire' for nothin'. Had a wit sharper than those blades of hers, and a fiery disposition to match. She could turn the heads of every man in a crowded room with a single smile and a laugh. Used to drive Alistair mad with jealousy, even though it was his tent she went to of a night. Even her fightin' style was different then. An' to see those two fightin' together? It was really somethin'. They danced on the battlefield, anticipatin' each other's movements, like two parts of a whole. Now…well, you've seen her battle."

He and Anders both nodded in agreement. The Commander could be truly frightening amidst a skirmish. There was a bitter flavor to her fighting style, vehemence in every swing of her blades. If he didn't know any better, Nathaniel might think she wanted to die, but it was not within her nature. Duty and honor were within her nature; hope and tenacity were certainly like breathing in and out to her, but not the desperation that would lead her or anyone to do such a thing.

"I wonder if her Father would've approved of him," Anders murmured, breaking into his musings.

"Aye," Oghren replied with a snort.

"How do you know?" Anders asked, surprised.

"Trust me. He would've," he growled back.

Then suddenly Oghren shot up in his chair, leaned over and grabbed Anders by the front of his robes.

"By the way, sparkle-fingers. About our little bet…There ain't no one who needs a tumble worse than the Commander, but she's had enough heartache to last two lifetimes. So if you somehow talk yer way into her bed, don't go breakin' her heart or I'll break yer puny neck. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Anders croaked, his lips pinching together in a thin white line.

"And that goes for you too, Howe. Don't think I didn't see the way you were eyein' her all night," Oghren growled as he swung his head around to glare at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel threw his hands up in surrender. Although his sudden interest was still new and perplexing he knew better than to think anything would or could ever come of it. After all that had occurred? There was too much bad blood between them. It would take a miracle to salvage a friendship let alone something more. No, Oghren needn't be concerned on that front. Alyxandria Cousland would never see him as anything other than subordinate, and as far as she would ever know, he wouldn't want it any other way.

*Muse Tunes: "Two Hornpipes (Tortuga)" by Hans Zimmer (Dead Men's Chest OST); "Saturday in the Park" by Chicago; "Letters from the Sky" by Civil Twilight; "Nottingham Burns" by Marc Streitenfield (Robin Hood OST); "Murron's Burial" by James Horner (Braveheart OST).