Along the way, Oghren, Morrigan, and I ran in to a man peddling books. Rare books. Alistair had insisted I take someone else with us, so it wouldn't just be a two person party, so I'd voluntold the witch. She didn't argue, more than likely because she'd be away from the majority of everyone, but it felt like she was watching me extra closely.

People dotted the hill to our left, the perfect spot for sniping.

He gave his whole spiel about how rare a book it was, that there was only one ever made. And I called him on it.

"Funny, because we have four of them right here." I tugged on one of the straps of my pack, ready to pull it off to show him.

He got angrier and twitchier the longer the conversation went, until finally, he exploded, "Those accusations are baseless, groundless, heinous, unsupportable, insubstantial... disregardable... Oh forget it. Get them!"

He fell quite easily, all things considered. And the skirmish was over as soon as he lay dead; his hired thugs dropped their weapons and raised their hands. I let them go in a gesture of good faith, warning them that if they had the audacity to take up arms against us again, no matter the reason, I would kill them.

...

"There she is! I'm going to go talk to her. Look, you gotta back me up here, got it?" Oghren stared up at me with puppy eyes, and I blinked, astonished he had that capacity.

"She's not a genlock. You can handle her on your own." I tried calming him, but it didn't work.

"You haven't met her, I take it."

"How dangerous can she be?" I peeked over his shoulder at her.

"Ah... we parted company under... less than friendly terms."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She threw me out of her house and tossed all my clothes in to a lava vent. Threatened to take a pair of smithing tongs to... well, you get the idea." he sighed dreamily, "She was always cute when she was angry."

"Maybe I should go talk to her first." Perhaps I could disarm her, being a little girl and all.

"Find out how much she misses old Oghren, or who i have to kill, and then I'll go sweep her off her feet. That's me. Mister charm."

I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it all and resigned myself to having to play the go between for them.

"What can I get for you? And don't say mead. we ran out of that a week ago. And don't say rum, either. Ran out the day before yesterday. And don't say brandy."

"When did you run out of brandy?"

"Oh, we haven't yet. It's just terrible. We got it from a shady Orlesian trader, and i think it might really be turpentine."

"Felsi! I need tables cleaned, girl!" The owner hollered angrily.

"I've got a customer!" She shouted back, rolling her eyes.

"Your name's Felsi?"

"Aye. Who wants to know?"

"I'm a friend... of... Oghren..." I trailed off when she laughed.

"And you admit it? You don't smell drunk." I frowned, concerned at the number of drunk children she must deal with, "Get kicked in the head by a bronto, did you?"

"So... you're not exactly a fan of his, then?"

"You could say that. You could also say I would rather kiss a deepstalker on the lips, than see him again."

I tilted my head, "What happened between you two?"

"What happened? Is that a serious question? Have you met Oghren? He got drunk. Drunker than usual, even. Took off his pants and challenged a roast nug to a wrestling match at my father's funeral. He lost, by the way. The roast got him in an arm lock. He sat there crying for half an hour before someone pulled it off him."

"How did he lose to a piece of meat?"

"It was a sodding good roast!"

"Felsi! What in Andraste's name are you doing? The tables, girl!"

Morrigan and I had literally been the only customers for the last hour.

"All right!" she sighed, "I've got to get back to work."

I left, and Oghren pounced on me as soon as I stepped foot outside.

"Well, what did she say?"

"She hasn't exactly forgiven you for the nug incident." I explained.

"That fight was rigged!" He was serious, "Anyway, the guards said it wasn't worth pressing charges. So she's no call to hold a grudge! Did she say anything else?"

"You know what?" I moved out of the way, "Go get her."

"Just be ready to pry her off when she throws herself at me. We don't want to make a scene here. Well, don't pry her off me too soon. I mean, a little scene's all right."

He threw the door open, and it banged loudly against the wall. My eye twitched.

"He said he didn't want to make a scene..."

"Yes, but the dwarf also said a little scene was all right." Morrigan stood behind me to watch the debacle.

"Are you sure you're not a baker? Cause you've got a sodding nice set of buns." My cheeks burned, and I started to wonder if I should leave.

Felsi set down her wash rag and straightened, "Well, look what the nug dragged in. I should've known you were in the neighborhood by the stench. What are you doing here?"

"Just trying to kick back with a pint. Fighting darkspawn's a lot of sodding work, you know?"

"You're fighting darkspawn?"

"This man took on an army of golems almost single-handed." Morrigan gave high praise.

"It was a bit of a pain, but... it was a personal favor for the king of Orzammar, you understand."

"The whole surface to choose from, and you just happened to come to my tavern?"

"Er... well..." He was losing his nerve.

I clasped my hands in front of me, "It must be fate!"

"What? Oh, right. It's fate, Felsi. What can I say?"

"Fate? The ancestors must have a sense of humor, then.

"Sure they do! You've had a good look at Lady Helmi, haven't you? If her face isn't a joke the ancestors are playing, I'm a bronto's behind."

"So... Lady Helmi must be a Paragon of beauty, then."

"You know, he's been talking about you an awful lot, since we met. I don't think he stops thinking of you." I murmured, finger on my chin and eyes on the ceiling.

"I've been thinkin' about you, Felsi." he was starting to sound sincere.

"What do you want, Oghren?"

"Nothin'. Just thought I'd see how you were doing, is all. Well, maybe that and grease up the bronto, if you know what I mean."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "Well, you've seen me. You'll have to go back to Orzammar for the bronto."

"We can't waste time here, the queen is waiting for us." Morrigan gave a wave of her hand, as if to say 'let's go already.'

"Oh, the queen needed a new fool, did she?" Felsi got in one last jab.

"Ah well, it's been fun, Felsi, but I better go." Oghren acquiesced, starting to turn.

He had almost made it back to the door, when she called out, "Wait! You're leaving? You just got here. I haven't called you a shaft-rat yet..."

"Oh, you can't keep the archdemon waiting. You hurt its feelings, it just might turn the whole Blight around and go home. Nobody wants that." He teased.

"Well... you don't need to fight it right now, do you?" She had picked up the hem of her apron, twisting it in her hands, "I mean, you could have a pint first. You could call me a surly bronto, I could tell you that you smell like nug droppings..."

"I tell you what, I've got some things I gotta do, but I'll come back for that pint when things're settled. You frigid deepstalker."

"Fine, but you'd better not keep me waiting, you worthless copper-plated sword-caste."

"Wouldn't dream of it." It was his turn to cross his arms.

"What just happened?" I whispered to the mage.

She regarded me for a second or two, "Some adults like to be insulted and treated badly. It's disgusting."

I nodded, "That was... something I'm not sure I ever want."

...

"We're here." I singsonged, skipping in to the castle with both of them in tow.

Zevran appeared by my side, hand on my elbow. Steering me in to a room.

"Hello to you, too, good sir." I said, bemused.

"Arl Eamon is alive and well."

I gasped and covered my mouth.

"Alistair has taken up vigil at his bedside until he awakes again. He was awake only long enough to be deemed healthy, then fell asleep again."

"So it worked. The Ashes worked. You've gotta love religious artifacts."

"Just so." He looked me up and down, "You are all right?"

"Nothing of note happened." I frowned, "Oh, wait. Actually, we did run in to a bit of trouble, but once the leader died, the thugs with him left peacefully."

He gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Oh, Maker!" I dropped my pack on the ground and rummaged through it, "Where is it? Where is it?"

"Where is what?" He came over and tried peeking in.

I pushed him, hard, "No. No, no, no, no, no. You can't see it. Better yet, close your eyes."

"Close my... Why?" Suspicion laced his words.

"Please?" I looked up at him with a child-like expression.

He narrowed his eyes, "Alistair warned against this."

"Are you any better prepared?"

"No." He promptly shut his eyes.

I made sure he couldn't see, before I set the shoes gently on the table next to him, trying not to make too much noise. I didn't want him to guess until I was ready.

"Hmmm. That smell... this is Antivan leather, isn't it?" I grinned; this couldn't have gone better, if I'd actually been on the lookout for Antivan specifically, "I would know that anywhere!"

"You can open your eyes, now."

He chuckled at the boots, "I don't know how you found them, but thank you."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Try them on!" I clapped my hands, eager to see if they fit.

"But I'm not finished admiring them, yet! Can you smell that? Like rotting flesh. Just like back in Antiva City." I wrinkled my nose at his choice of words, "Now, if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder, and a corrupt politician, I'd really feel like I was home!" He laughed again, seeming really happy.

I grinned, pleased with myself.

He complied, eventually, and tried them on, "And they fit, as well! Marvelous!"

"Yes!" I fist pumped, skipping back to the hallway without saying anything else. I was too excited to carry on anything resembling a conversation.

Morrigan snatched me by the arm and dragged me to the room we would be sharing. I didn't even try to struggle, I was so surprised by the assault.

"Where did you learn magic like that?"

"What?"

"At Haven. You froze the cultists, preventing them from attacking us. Where. Did. You. Learn. Such. Magic?" She was spitting mad, and I didn't understand why.

"I watched you do it that one time before we went in to the chantry."

"You... what? You expect me to believe that you watched me and learned how to do it, just that easily?" Her voice was rising with each word, and I was worried she would draw attention from the guards.

"...yes?" It came out as a question, and I could have kicked myself for it.

Eyes narrowed to slits, she growled, "I do not believe you, Grey Warden. That is dark magic, and I went through years of training to be able to do it to a few opponents at one time. Once a day. You were able to hold an entire room full of people in their places. Explain."

"It's something I don't really understand." I held up my hands defensively, "I see something be done, and nine times out of ten, I can do it, too."

Glaring at me distrustfully, she whirled her staff through the air and hit it against the floor. Sparks flew.

"Watch carefully, little Warden." She commanded ominously.

With a flick of her fingers, the fire place roared to life and spread to the wood flooring, coming toward us. I skittered back a few steps, but when she put it out, the floor remained intact.

"Tis your turn."

I copied her movements exactly, and the wood was lit again. I hadn't seen her put it out, though, distracted as I was by the fire creeping toward me.

"Morrigan, how did you put it out? I didn't see that."

"Figure it out."

I gave her a hurt look, confused about how she was acting so suddenly, and took a deep breath. Another flick of my fingers, and it went out. I sighed in relief.

"How is that possible...?"

"How can I travel through time?" I countered quietly. I finally understood why she had been so weird at Lake Calenhad.

She nodded slowly, "I... I apologize for being suspicious of you, Anastasia."

I had a hard time keeping a straight face. That was either the first time ever or the first time in a long time that she'd called me by my actual name, instead of just "Warden."