A/N: Let's talk about fluffy today... XD Thanks for the Fav/follow and the amazing reviews! :D

Busy week! I had no time to draw. But the artworks will come :)

Hugs to my beta and her endless patience with the extra work :D

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Credits:

Portuguese Beta: Rohh Lael

English Beta: wintryone

Disclaimer: Dragon Age Universe belongs to Bioware.

Chapter 16

Second chances

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Kallian

Better than simply a safe area, Morrigan had found an abandoned hut by the river. It was falling apart, but it had a roof, which suited us very well, especially because of rain that started to fall. The door was locked, but it didn't stop us for long – one of Morrigan's hair clips was enough for me to make the magic happen. Yep, the Alienage is an excellent teacher sometimes.

What kind of troublemaker would I be if I couldn't even unlock an old door?

Speaking about the witch – pun not intended, I swear - she took the biggest room of the hut for herself. I didn't complain. After all, if not for her, we would be sleeping in the rain right now.

Although, with so many leaks in the ceiling, it was hard to tell where it was raining more - inside or outside. But I was not complaining… The beds were dry and warm, and that was all that mattered.

Alistair snuggled Mahariel on a double bed, after I had shaken the dust from the sheets. She was deeply asleep; her skin was slowly returning to its normal tone. There was just a few wayward black lines lingering on her neck, but I was pretty sure that they would be gone before the dawn. After settling everything, we went to check the house - lock the doors, search for threats… In other words, to make sure that the place was safe, and guarantee that it stayed that way.

Noah wasn't anywhere to be found.

I had no idea that I would be so upset with his departure.

I mean, it's not like I like him at all, but he proved to be a reliable person, despite his bouts of bipolarity. The truth is that I meant it when I said that I would rather have him around, I just didn't know that I would feel his loss so deeply.

I still resent him for our discussion, but I could not say that I was still angry with him. Not much, at least.

After the round, I went into what looked like the kitchen. It was a great room with a fire pit in the middle and a long table near the wall. I will not lie; the place was an epic mess.

What food was stored inside the cupboards was already rotten, smelling like a dead rat. Disgusting. There was no table on the floor that wasn't creaking, and I even got some barbs in my feet, but at least the wood was dry enough, burning perfectly. And there I was, right in the middle of the chaos, sitting near the fire, trying to get my clothes dry without removing them from my body.

I didn't get that soaked, really. Since the rain was only starting by the time we reached the hut, it wasn't even enough to wet my hair, but I couldn't avoid getting cold. The wind didn't help either.

"What are you doing?" Alistair asked, walking into the kitchen and scaring me a bit. I was so lost in thought that his low, strong voice echoing through the room startled me.

"Trying to get warm. You?"

"Nothing," he replied, staring at the fire with such intensity that I couldn't help myself and turned my head to check if the kitchen was burning and I hadn't noticed yet. "Mind if I stay here? I Promise that I won't bother you."

"Sure," I replied. He sat in a chair near the doorand I could swear that I saw his lips trembling slightly. "Alistair, if you're trying to warm up, then you're doing it wrong."

"I just didn't want to invade your space." He picked up one of the forks from the table and stood.

"You won't be invading my space, unless that you're planning to kick me out of the kitchen." I gave him a playful smile.

"Ouch, you got me! Now I need a B plan to conquer the kitchen!" He said in a mocking tone, sitting on the opposite side of the fire. And I was more than grateful for him to respect my space. "Or maybe I just want to get warm," he replied back in his low voice, returning my smile.

I watched in silence as he removed his gloves, using his sleeve to clean up the fork. Then he pulled out a hunk of bread from his bag, jabbed the fork in it and held it near the fire.

I must confess that, at first, part of me was uneasy about being alone with him. A human…

It was so absurd that I still didn't know how I dared to form the words, even if it was just inside my mind.

Against all odds, I'm not as suspicious of him as I was at first. So much has happened that part of me began to accept his presence.

He was always there whenever I needed and since Mahariel's Joining, he'd been keen to help me make this work.

I think… that I was starting to trust him. Or I just softened a bit. A lot, whatever. Or I was crazy.

Maybe both.

"No sign of Noah?" He asked, cozying up to the fire.

"No," I replied. "Where's Morrigan?"

"She is locked in her room doing her witchy things with her… witch things." He said, stumbling on the words.

And of course, I had to laugh. He didn't understand my reaction – I could see by his puzzled expression that he was confused. And that only made me giggle even more.

"What? What?" He asked, just like an impatient child.

"You're really not very good with words, huh?" I asked, failing miserably to check my laughter.

"I am!" He replied indignantly. "Sometimes ..."

"Okay, okay." I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "What about Mahariel?"

"Sleeping. I just checked."

"It would be nice if you were not there when she woke up." I said. "At least I would not like to wake up alone in a closed room with a strange human by my side."

"Alright, anything to not increase my legion of haters." He replied sullenly, parting the hot bread in two, offering me one half.

I thought about refusing, I swear I thought, but the smell of toasted bread made my stomach growl. Loudly. I felt my face begin to burn as I took the bread from his hands. He smiled back, amused by my embarrassment.

"So," I cleared my throat. "Legion? Aren't you exaggerating?"

"Exaggerating? Y'all hate me," he began, resentfully. "You, Noah, Morrigan ..."

"When did I ever say that I hated you?" I asked, frowning. He gasped, not knowing how to answer. As he thought about it, I took the opportunity to take a good bite of my bread.

Gluttony sucks, by the way. I burned my mouth. But it was worth it – the bread was delicious.

It was the first time I'd eaten anything since we left Flemeth's hut, so even if I'd had to eat a stone, I would probably think that it was the best thing in the world.

"You were so… cold…when we met," he began, scratching his forehead. "And most of the time you were so distant... I dunno ... I thought it was a problem with me."

"I don't hate you," I said without really considering about what I was planning to say. Now that I was thinking about it, it was true. "You… supported me on some things, saved my hide a few times, and unless you try to sneak into my bedroll some night, I have no reason to hate you."

"I would never do that!" He said, choking on the bread.

"I hope not." I said, grabbing my canteen inside the bag and offering it to him.

He took it gratefully, drinking long drafts before continuing.

"Then why?" He said hoarsely, still coughing, clearing his throat as he returned the nearly empty canteen back to me.

"The indifference, you mean?" I asked, not sure if I was pleased by the course the conversation was taking.

"Yeah," he replied, biting the bread more carefully this time.

"I think it's… part of me, I guess," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I don't trust anyone. Not at all…" I stared at the fire, pondering if I should continue or not, while he kept silent, waiting for me to finish. Again, my mouth started to talk by itself. "It's part of who I am, to see threats instead of humans wherever I look…"My voice was barely a whisper, almost unrecognizable, but it was a bit later to worry about it. I mean, I was already talking too much anyway.

The strangest part? I didn't care at all.

"But I..." He started to question me, but I cut him off.

"Just listen," I said, continuing my explanation. "I'm not that ignorant, Alistair. I have some sense of judgment. Prove me wrong, and we will be fine." I sighed deeply when I noticed his puzzled expression. "Look, I cannot afford to lower my guard for every beautiful smile that crosses my path."

"Oh, you think my smile is beautiful?" He smiled, as if to illustrate his words. I had spoken metaphorically, but now that I stopped to watch it closely, his smile was really cute – one of the corners of his lips curved upwards more than the other, forming a crooked smile that was difficult not to like it. It seemed sincere, at least.

"I wasn't talking about you, Templar boy. Don't get all overconfident on me." I said, more than satisfied to see his smile turning into a false expression of grief. "Like I said, you cannot blame me for being suspicious. Alistair, you're a soldier, a man and a human - the worst possible combination. Didn't I have a right to be mistrustful of you?"

"But if so, then in Ostagar ..." He paused and stared at me before continuing. I could almost hear his thoughts – 'Ostagar, surrounded by human soldiers and such.' Yeah, tell me something that I don't know. I had the impression that he changed his line, because he opened his mouth and shut it a couple of times, without saying a word. Maybe I had rolled my eyes, I can't quite remember. "You don't think that's kind of paranoid?"

"Not the best way to live, but it kept me alive so far and I have no complaints." I shrugged. Really, it didn't bother me that much. I was always surrounded by jerks and psychopaths no matter where I went, so it was not like it could be called paranoid, right?

The best name for it was Reality. But I didn't plan to share this much with him – it was a discussion that I was not planning to start, with questions and whys that I was not willing to answer. His thoughts about my ways didn't matter to me; I have my own valid reasons to be like this, and his opinion would not change anything.

Alistair frowned, his eyes suddenly serious, staring at me. "Am I a threat to you?"

No – I almost answered him, but I bit my tongue instead. Yeah, Kallian, do exactly what you said you couldn't. He was nice, and I liked some of his jokes, that's all. It didn't mean that I could lower my guard that much.

Instead of a 'yes' or 'no', I answered him with another question, not because I wanted some kind of complex reply, butbecause I was curious. "Did you prove me wrong?"

"I didn't prove you right!" He answered me promptly, surprising me enough to make me chuckle. "What?"

"You have a point," I said, smiling.

"So, we're fine then?" He asked me, hesitantly. Not the bad kind of hesitantly – more like the kind that was afraid of my answer, rather than the kind that he was hiding something.

"For now," I said seriously, watching him lower his head, scratching his forehead vigorously. He stopped when I giggled again. "I'm joking, Alistair – we're fine, really. Just don't disappoint me."

There was that lopsided smile again. "Yes, mistress!"

If I had to choose between crazy and soft, I would pick idiot. I shook my head, cursing my big mouth for speaking more than was necessary again. I was not like this, but there was something about this silly Templar that encouraged me to talk.

Andraste's ass, I was really starting to trust him.

There was a long, however confortable silence between us before he asked me, "You're from the Alienage in Denerim, right?" He took a last bite of his bread. I nodded. "How is it there?"

I was a major fan of an abrupt change of uncomfortable subjects, but he'd managed to pick one worse than the previous. A gift? Maybe.

"Hmm ..." I put the last piece of bread in my mouth, thinking of an answer as I chewed. "We have a really big tree."

He stared at me, frowning again. "Not quite what I expected to hear."

"I don't think that any of the words that came to my mind were within your expectations, so I guess it's all right." I smiled weakly. It was not like I was in the mood to talk about home, and I think he understood me, because didn't insist on the subject.

It was then that I felt something nearby. A singular presence.

"It's a Darkspawn?" I asked Alistair, who shook his head.

"It's more like a Grey Warden," he replied, standing up.

"Noah?" I stood up, too when he nodded.

"We better check it, just in case..."

Noah

I stood facing the door of the hut for a long, long time just thinking - letting the storm fall on my shoulders, trying to wash my soul from all those confusing feelings that were fighting against each other to take the control of my outworn brain. Guilt, Rage, Uneasiness… I was so tired of everything…

Even though I appeared to be staring at the broken wooden door, I wasn't really seeing it.

My vision was darkened, blurred not because of the raindrops, but from the memories that keep coming and going with my unsteady breathing.

Each time my anger blinded my common sense, I took one step towards the mad person that Howe was. All my efforts to walk on the path of revenge were making me be more and more like the person that I hated most, instead of leading me right to him.

First, I almost punched the elf. Twice. I came really close to breaking her in two. And on both occasions, she was not wrong.

She wanted to help me - bring order to the chaos while everything around her was collapsing. And my uncontrolled temper almost destroyed her - the equilibrium of the group.

She has her problems, of course, and I didn't dare guess what they were. But she stood firm on her decisions, strong on her position, and nobody even offered her a helping hand.

I could… see it clearly now. She was the only thing that was keeping the group together.

There's one last issue, which only make me feel even better - I turned my back on a person who needed me most.

Poor girl. Her scared, pained look wouldn't leave my mind. She was trembling so much, and yet, she was holding to her life with such fierce determination that it made my heart ache just to think about it. And I did not even know if she had survived or not.

I was the true son of a bitch - and I didn't need even half of the five hours that I spent alone reflecting in the rain to reach this conclusion.

But what could I do?

I mean, how could I?

When I'm alone or weak, my thoughts are clearer - the buzz is almost imperceptible and somehow, I'm more like my old self. All this hate seemed like a faint glimpse of a distant past, and for a moment, I could almost see the answer pulsing strongly right in front of my eyes.

Almost. I wasn't sure of what this new resolution was about. What could possible exist in the depths of this cave of hate? There was no light at the end of the tunnel. There was no hope left among men. Everything pure in this damned world ended up being corrupted – the light was always drained by the darkness.

I could not be sure of that resolution yet, but there was no other plausible answer than hate. Revenge.

Most of the time... this feeling… was stronger than me. It was like an impulse, an unscrupulous and selfish force taking control of my body and stunning my senses.

I wasn't trying to absolve myself from guilt, far from it. I was, once again, trying to understand myself, and failing miserably. Every time I get closer to… I don't know, me I guess, my old self seemed to slip through my fingers.

I wonder if this would be the effect that Duncan said? The corruption of the soul caused by this blind hatred, keeping me away from…from…

I don't know… I was… so lost…

How long did I stay there, staring at the door? An hour, maybe? I couldn't tell. Enough time to freeze my blood, for sure.

I almost jumped up when I heard the cracks move.

I took a deep breath. No matter what had happened - if the elf was angry, if the Dalish girl was dead, if Morrigan had transformed Alistair into a mushroom, which would greatly improve my mood, or whether this would be my last contact with the group - I had to swallow my anger, bury my hate and do what was right - be it for better or worse.

"Hey," Alistair said, opening the door with a smile on his face. "What are you waiting for to come inside? An invitation? A hug?" He joked, probably trying to ease the tension.

I could already feel the buzz growing loudly again, then I stepped forward, grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door, closing it tightly in his face - technically on my face, but the other way makes me feel better.

Maybe tomorrow, I thought, reconsidering about the anger.

Kallian waited at least ten minutes before opening the door again, after sending Alistair back to the kitchen. She found Noah sitting on the step of the entrance, looking at the raindrops falling in puddles that were multiplying themselves more and more because of the irregular ground. She did not know if he was really lost or just ignoring her as usual. More likely the latter, she thought.

"Hey," Kallian called, crossing her arms.

Noah turned his head to face her, but something flew into his face, blocking his view. He took the piece of light blue cloth with one hand, holding it at his eye line to check it better.

"What ...?" He asked.

"Use this," She said, leaning against the wall. "The fire is lit in the kitchen, which is at the end of the corridor. There is a room ready for you to share with Alistair on the second floor, first door on the left after the stairs."

"Why the hell would I wear a woman's blouse?" He said getting up, grateful that she had not initiated any discussions.

"I never said you should wear it, it's for you to use it," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're drenched. You can use it to get dry, but give me it back washed later. That is, unless you want to risk it with the moldy and dirty towels that we'd found inside the dressers. Well, the choice is yours." Kallian walked back inside, stopping in front of the ladder, putting a hand on the banister. Noah also stood in silence, waiting for an answer as he stared at the elf's small back.

"We need to talk." It was all she said.

"I know," he replied. "I..."

"Rest first. We'll leave only in the morning, so we'll have time for it later." She moved towards the second floor, without looking at him.

"I thought you would be waiting for me with your daggers drawn."

"Do I have reasons to wield my daggers, Noah?" Kallian asked, turning toward him. She was serious, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth shut in a straight line. First, Noah thought about the discussion he had with her in the morning, but something in those eyes, something hidden behind that serious stance and firm voice told him that her question had more meaning than the words were saying.

She wanted to know if they were enemies.

Were they? Noah wondered silently. She had pressed against the wall, and as every ultimatum was a subliminal threat, anger began to take control of his body and with a tremendous force of will, he clamped his mouth shut to keep from saying what he should not. It was not as if he felt threatened by the elf. He was almost certain that if they started fighting here and now, there was no way he would not emerge victorious. But this was not a fight that he was willing to buy, especially because, regardless of what he thought about it, something told him that there was more than about the elf that meets the eye. Moreover, he was determined to do the right thing, so he swallowed the provocation, breathing a couple of times before answering.

"You tell me," Noah said after a while, considering that this would be the best way to keep his stance and, at the same time, avoid another confrontation.

Kallian watched him for several minutes before nodding, letting out a deep sigh. Despite the serious look, her expression relaxed considerably. "This is probably the closest we'll come to an agreement, right?" She shook her head and turned her back to Noah. "By the way, Mahariel is alive."

"She..." He whispered, his eyes widening with the news.

"I've told you because I think you should know. And before you start to throw all that crap at me, about how important your bloody pride is or that you don't care, know that I don't give a shit about what you say. I never did." She peered at him over her shoulder. "You're here, and that's all that matters now." Kallian said, before climbing the stairs, leaving a thoughtful and relieved Noah leaning against the hallway wall.

"I… I didn't kill her…?" Noah whispered to himself, sliding down to the floor. "Thank the Maker…!" He sighed, burying his head in his hands.

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