The next days are bitter. When they make it to the small village on the other side of the keep, still at the outskirts of Highever City, Duncan brings them straight to the inn where his horse is still stabled. Under his breath, he orders the two of them to stay in the stables, out of sight, and then disappears into the inn. Tali doesn't know what he says to the innkeeper, but when he comes out again, he shoves two cloaks and two bedrolls into Talvinder and Savreen's hands, and then points at a hearty, strong mare in a nearby stall.

"That one is yours. The saddle is likely too small—"

"Our family have long been skilled war horse riders. We will manage." Savreen's voice is proud, and Duncan does not challenge her. He says nothing else, choosing silence. Instead, he quickly saddles his own mount while Savreen grabs reins and Tali throws a saddle blanket over their mare's back. They leave the stables nearly already at a gallop, setting a furious pace.

Now, wrapped in the grey cloak Duncan had handed her back in that small stable, Talvinder sits numbly behind Savreen on the mare, Duncan riding alongside them. At times their horse gallops, at times it trots or cantors. As the sun cycles through the sky and below the horizon, Tali recites prayers in her mind, lips too tired to speak the words, voice too broken from tears. All the while, Abarie and Sher run alongside, their huge paws making almost no sound. Occasionally someone reaches into a saddlebag for some dried meat, or an apple, or a water skin, and there are a few moments when Duncan or Sav abruptly slow their horse to water and feed it before climbing up again and continuing on. Time blurs together into the sound of hoofbeats and clanking armor and the slight feeling of chafing from the horse's movement. Daily rituals, moments of cleanliness and care, are forgotten in the hectic and terrifying pace of their travel. Neither Tali nor Sav bother opening the small bags tied around their shoulders, hastily filled with the last remnants of their lives. They aren't ready, but more than that, there's hardly time.

It's with shock after the end of the first day that Tali realizes she's still wearing her nightshirt, and she keeps forgetting about the long cut to her shoulder, twisting and opening up the scab again. It will surely scar. After the second day, their little group stops to truly rest, to make camp and sleep in the shielded outskirts of a small wood. The horses have been slowing for some time, and stand panting in the clearing Duncan has found. Talvinder slides slowly down, the quiet ache in her thighs and lower back suddenly roaring forward; Savreen drops quickly beside her.

"How much farther?" Tali asks. She realizes her voice is dull.

"Another five days, perhaps. But we cannot go much farther without resting the horses." Already, Duncan is readying to build a fire, clearing away stray leaves and digging a hollow into the earth with his hands and the hilt of a dagger. He moves with a quiet purposefulness, occasionally stilling his actions to glance around and listen, eyes tracing the shapes of the forest around them, seeking danger and finding none. Abarie pants and pads over to Talvinder's side, where she nuzzles her hand and whines softly. Tali pets her forehead absently. Her mind is still on the storeroom floor at Highever, slick with the blood of her uncle. She's acutely aware of Sav's presence next to her. They haven't spoken more than a few words since Highever. Talvinder reaches her free hand out to touch Sav's, but then Duncan speaks again.

"In the meantime you should rest." His quiet voice startles Tali, and she stares blankly at him, uncomprehending. "I will keep watch." She can tell there is no negotiating, and so can Sav, and they both give in without protesting. As uncomfortable as Tali may be, she doubts that if she undresses down to her nightshirt, takes off each and every her hastily put on armor that she will ever want to put it back on. And besides, it would be unwise and unsafe to do anything more than simply lie down and sleep, maybe dab a little water on her wound. Bathing is out of the question. So she just unhooks her shield and sword, pulls the bag from her back, removes as little clothing and armor as is feasible, and sets everything on the ground before unfurling the bedroll purchased at the inn.

She is stopped, however, by the sound of Duncan clearing his throat.

"I am sorry we could not save them," he says. There is a brief moment, when he glances up at them, that his eyes meet Talvinder's, and she can see an endless pool, dark and sorrowful. It changes the shape of his voice as he speaks now. "Take your rest while you can. There is likely to be little time for it once we reach Ostagar." It occurs to Tali that this is Duncan's way of caring for them, of apologizing for what he's done, what he couldn't do. He's so apologetic, it makes her wonder for a moment why she should be mad at him.

Only a moment.

She has little energy to maintain her anger, though, especially as a splinter of pain shoots through her shoulder. She turns her attention to her neglected wound, using as little of their water as she can on the corner of her shirt to dab at the dried blood on her shoulder and collarbone in an effort to clean it, at least perfunctorily. More blood wells to the surface with her ministrations, staining the fabric and leaking onto her skin even as she tries to wipe it away. After only a few moments, she gives up, choosing instead to just leave it be, blood be damned.

With exhaustion, Tali turns to Sav, ignoring the way her cousin eyes her wound. Together, both of them recite the kirtan sohila, the words flowing from their lips even though they ache in Tali's throat. Once the two of them fall silent, Sav unbraids her hair to begin smoothing out the thick curls, painstakingly maintained, never cut. Next to her, Tali considers unbraiding her own hair, still wound up in a crown around her head, but the long, straight strands, grown out for years like Sav's, haven't given her too much trouble, and it's taxing to even just think about braiding it up once more.

Instead, Tali lays down on her bedroll, pulling her cloak atop the thin blanket and huddling close to Sav. Duncan sits a ways away, near the fire he has built, facing away from them. Abarie walks in a few circles, and then rests her head in Tali's lap, while Sher curls up next to Sav's side. Normally, if this were like any of the hunts they'd been on, the hounds would pace the outskirts of the little camp, marking the territory and keeping guard. But Tali knows that Abarie can tell she is needed in a different way tonight, and so can Sher. Abarie whines lightly and turns her eyes up to Tali's, brown meeting grey. It reminds her of simpler, better nights spent cuddling the war hound: when she was a teenager sleeping with her cousin on the battlements, trying to see the shooting stars; when Abarie was a gangly yearling and they had lain on the floor in the library, listening to tutor Aldous drone on and on about history to Fergus; when, on the day Savreen and Talvinder had been given their hounds, the war dogs just tiny puppies, the fire had warmed them all as father and uncle told stories late into the night.

Father. The word sticks in Tali's mind, choking her. He is gone. So is uncle Bikram, and tutor Aldous, and even the battlements, likely crumbled into ashy piles, stone cracked from the heat of the fires, torn by ravaging hands. A quiet sob buckles through Tali's chest, and she squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. She bites her hand, trying to stay silent, but Savreen is done braiding her hair, and she has heard. Abarie whines again, and Sav shifts, turning to face Tali. She can see tears on Sav's face, too, faint tracks catching the light as they run down her cheeks.

"Tali I—"

"Sav, I don't—"

"You first."

"No, you, I interrupted." Savreen reaches out to touch Talvinder's hand under their blankets. Their karas clink together softly, the bangles a strange reminder of what's been lost. Tali wants to look at her eyes, she does, but she's afraid of what she will see there. She's afraid she won't be able to handle it. She stays stock still, lying on her side, facing Savreen and yet not meeting her gaze.

"Tali, I miss them." The leaves beneath them are crunching, and Tali can feel a vise tightening around her upper chest. When she finally looks, she can see that both of their hands are shaking. Sav is suppressing sobs. "I—I—I'm sorry we had to take you like that." A deep breath. Abarie whines again, moving closer to Tali, nosing underneath her arm.

"Did we fail them, Sav?" Her cousin suddenly stops shaking, though the tears still leak slowly across her nose and down her cheek to the bedroll beneath her. Sav moves so quickly, Tali isn't prepared, but the feeling of her hands on Tali's face isn't unwelcome. It forces Tali to sit, to look into Sav's eyes. Her cousin's face is contorted with tears, her deep brown eyes glazed with a refractive film of grief and water.

"Tali." A slight tremor in her voice breaks the smoothness of her tone, but she continues. "Tali, we did everything we could. They told us to go. We did not fail them."

"I was so busy fighting to stay I—I never said goodbye." But you did. And you didn't stop Duncan. The unspoken words hang in the air, so bright and clear and accusatory that Tali is sure Sav can see them. If she does, though, she says nothing. Tali regrets so deeply even thinking them, but there's a yawning pit inside her, and it feels satiated when she lets the anger bubble over, even just inside. Even though Savreen has already apologized. Even though she cannot think of another possible outcome, another course of events or actions.

"They knew, Tali. You didn't have to tell them." For some reason, Tali can't cry, even though Sav has finally given in and is sobbing quietly through her reassurances. Jealousy starts to crawl out of the pit, yanking the vise around her even tighter, so that the pain in her chest sharpens to an almost unbearable point. Something whispers in her ear, something that speaks in a voice that sounds like her own and yet is not. How can Sav be so sure? How can she say that, when she got the chance to say her goodbyes? The feeling smothers down the logic, takes Savreen's earlier apology and chokes the life from it, so that Tali is left only with the feeling of Duncan's shoulder digging into her side and the sounds of murder in her ears.

Tali brings one hand up to Sav's and pulls it down from her face. The jealousy is wrong, it's ridiculous, but indulging it dulls the ache, loosens the vise ever so slightly. It indulges the whispering voice, making it sing and sigh with bitter, nasty joy. So she lets the thoughts swirl quietly, bites her tongue, and nods to Sav. She considers letting go of Sav's hand, and in lieu of deciding, rolls over onto her back. Her chest is shaking again now, and Abarie walks about in a few circles before lying her head down on it, her body curled so that her flank rests up by Tali's head. Still holding Sav's hand with her own—to let it go or shake it off would be too cruel, even for the curdled anger inside her—Tali wraps her other arm around Abarie's body, shaking fingers ruffling her wiry fur. Her eyes burn, but still no tears come, and, wishing she had gotten a chance to say goodbye, hating herself for it, she lets her eyelids droop closed. Her last thought before she drifts into sleep is about how much she's lost to gain what she wanted, to gain her freedom, a chance to fight. She isn't sure it was worth it.

The morning takes forever to arrive, but when it does at last dawn, it does so abruptly. Tali is woken by the loud hiss of water on embers as Duncan puts out the remains of the fire he set, and realizes that not only did Duncan take the first watch, but each and every watch after. As she sits up, shoulders aching and hips feeling absolutely wretched from sitting on that horse for so long, Tali spots Sav, rubbing sleep and the traces of tears from her eyes. After her inability to cry last night, the lump in Tali's throat and damp in her eyes comes as a surprise. It makes her hurried actions hard, blurring the clasps of her armor. But when she finishes, her eyes float back to her cousin.

Sav is in the middle of unbraiding and braiding her hair once more, there on top of the bedroll, her kangha in hand. The whispering voice returns, claws yanking tight the vise of jealousy and anger once more, and Tali finds herself feeling angry at the simple action, at the sight of the comb, at the fact that she hasn't done the same. It is strange and needless, but as before, it satisfies her, feeds something already bloated and uncomfortable within her. When Sav looks up at Tali and sees her staring intently, confusion clouds her dark eyes.

"Tali? Is something wrong?" But Tali has already moved away, breaking her gaze and yanking up her hastily bundled bedroll before heading over to the saddlebags, which are resting by a tree. Abarie follows her close behind while she digs out some dried meat and somehow even drier bread. As Talvinder tosses Abarie the meat and crunches into the bread, turning to the armor she shucked off the night before and trying desperately to stretch the pain out of her muscles, Savreen watches. She tries not to let it bother her. She tries to think of anything else. She tries.

Across the small camp, Savreen has finished braiding her hair into two long, thick strands. The first she ties in a knot near the top of her skull, the second she lets fall down the middle of her back. It is habit, and it makes her feel more normal. But nothing will make her feel completely normal, not as she watches Tali and wonders how and why exactly she can feel her putting up a new wall between them, a wall that makes no sense. As Savreen brushes off her cloak and rolls up her bedroll, she watches Tali. Her cousin stands bent by the saddlebags, grabbing food for herself and Abarie and beginning the task of re-donning her armor. Her movements are stiff and awkward, something that Savreen chalks up to the soreness of travel—until she sees Tali almost turn enough to see Savreen in her periphery, then jerk away as though burned.

It is then that Savreen averts her gaze, feeling the gesture almost like a slap, though she tries to reason it away. If Tali desires her emotions to go unnoticed in this moment, if she wants to have something private, that is her choice. Though why she's holding something back from her cousin, the woman with whom she was raised as a sister, Savreen doesn't understand. She feels something like frustration in the pit of her stomach, but she does her best to ignore it. There is no space for that feeling, not when she is the elder, not when there is so much to do, so much to push past.

"We need to make haste," Duncan calls out abruptly, breaking Savreen's concentration. "We must make it past Denerim unseen and before Howe's men expect us, if we are to reach Ostagar at all." As he saddles his horse, Savreen pulls on her own armor and finishes wrapping up her bedroll. Hesitantly, she heads for the saddlebags, trying not to disrupt Tali, trying to ignore the way her cousin still refuses to look at her. Silently, she saddles their mare, affixing the bags before pulling out some meat for Sher and a hunk of salty cheese for herself. Her mouth dry—from the pitiful food or from the tension crackling around them, she does not know—Savreen clears her throat, finally addressing Tali.

"It's time, Tali." She knows that Tali will feel better once they begin to move again, once they're farther from Highever. She knows that her cousin will stop thinking about what's behind them once she can actually see ahead. She knows there is little to do but ride this out and wait for Tali to speak to her, to tell her what it is that she feels. But the look that Tali gives her, one filmed with tears and something like betrayal, makes Savreen desperate for Duncan to leave, to disappear into the woods and never to speak to them again.

But she knows that won't happen. So instead, she tightens the saddle, grabs another piece of dried meat for herself from the saddlebag, and climbs up onto the horse. Tali has no choice but to climb up behind her.

"We'll be alright, Tali. We will." Savreen's words are meant to be reassuring, but Tali says nothing in response, and the silence is deafening. With a look over his shoulder at them, Duncan spurs his horse forward, forcing Savreen to do the same. As they leave the shelter of the trees for the road once more, Savreen finds herself focusing on one thought with no small amount of dread. It will be a long ride to Ostagar.

After another punishing two days, the group rests again, and this time Duncan guards Savreen and Talvinder as they bathe in a nearby river. He is still quiet, but when Savreen asks about Weisshaupt later, while she and Tali are wringing out their long hair by the fire, he breaks the silence of their small camp and speaks of the Warden fortress. Tali doesn't hear. She sits thinking of the visible spread of the soulrot through her father's limbs, fighting off and then giving in to memories tinged with imagination of fetid flesh, suppurating and laving off the bone even as her father lives and breathes—and then her watch is over, and Duncan takes her place. How long has she been thinking about her father? She doesn't know, and when her head hits her bundled-up bedroll, it doesn't matter. Time stops and starts again, tilting precariously, and she feels even more tired when she wakes than she does when she falls into fitful sleep.

Duncan only stops the third time when the horses refuse to move further. He curses a bit, but then accedes the folly of forcing them forward. If they fall, the final sprint will take them exceedingly longer on foot. Tali and Sav don't mind, and neither do the mabari. Unused to long stretches awake—unlike Duncan, who seems fueled by some form of superhuman endurance—they unfurl their bedrolls and fall asleep instantly upon them. Duncan wakes them too soon again, but his news is better than it's been the whole time they've been riding. They will reach Ostagar within the day, and they do, just as the sun is rising.

With Savreen dozing lightly behind her, Talvinder catches her first glimpse of the fortress. It appears almost out of nowhere, thick trunks of huge pines giving way to stone walls that seem just as much part of the land as the trees, sprouted from the earth. It is truly a remarkable sight.

"How old is this place?" Behind her, Sav starts awake as Duncan answers Tali's question, sounding almost exactly like one of the dusty tomes Aldous pressed into her hands.

"It was built by the Tevinter Imperium, to defend the land they conquered and stole from the Chasind peoples during the Ancient age. It was their southernmost defensive stronghold, meant to defend the occupation." The gate looms ahead of them, and Duncan reins his horse in from its gentle trot to a full stop before jumping down. His daggers clink musically as his feet plant on the ground. Tali takes it as a cue and quickly reins in the other horse, waiting for Sav to hop down before she follows suit. Duncan turns to them, urgency in his eyes.

"What I tell you now is very important. The king's forces have already clashed with the Darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself."

"How do you—" Duncan holds his hand up to silence Sav and continues.

"There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. You will meet them in time, should your initiation proceed smoothly. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall. So you will both listen to me, and do as I—and the king—command." Mutely, the pair nod, and, satisfied in their acquiescence, Duncan begins leading his horse forward. They follow him on foot, the massive gate seeming to grow ever taller as they close in. Tali cranes her neck backwards, trying to see the stonework up at the top, before a loud, brash voice calls out, startling her and making Abarie let out a small yip of warning.

"Ho there, Duncan!" Sav steadies Tali with a hand between her shoulder blades and a soft, wan smile, which Tali halfheartedly returns before facing the origin of the voice.

A man a few years older than herself and Savreen stands in front of them, heavy golden plate armor shining almost as brightly as his blonde hair. A chipper smile adorns his face, and Tali is reminded of young men celebrating before the Highever tourney, full of anticipation. She glances at Sav, confused, and sees her cousin curtsying before she realizes with a start who this is.

"King Cailan?" Duncan's voice is surprised. "I didn't expect—"

"A royal welcome?" The young king interrupts the Grey Warden with a clap on the back and more familiarity than Talvinder thinks she will ever be brave enough to muster. A sidelong glance in Savreen's direction tells her that her cousin is thinking exactly the same thing. "I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun! The battles go so well, it seemed the whole thing might be over before your arrival!" Duncan sounds a touch resigned as he answers, skepticism lacing his words.

"Not if I could help it, Your Majesty."

"Ah, then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious." Still beaming, he seems to have finally noticed Sav and Tali, and as he looks them up and down before speaking once more. "The other Wardens told me you'd found some promising recruits. I take it these are the ones?"

"Yes, allow me to introduce you Your Majesty—" Duncan begins to speak, but once more, Cailan interrupts him, eyes growing slightly wider in recognition.

"No need, Duncan. I remember Teyrn Bikram's youngest, Savreen. And that makes you Teyrn Birsingh's daughter, Talvinder. I can see some of the family resemblance. I've had the pleasure of meeting your cousin—" he inclines his head slightly towards Sav in deference – "but not yourself."

"Yes, Your Majesty, and it is a pleasure to see you again after so long," Sav says, the picture of decorum. Always the picture. Tali is unsure what to say.

"Your brothers have already arrived with the men of Highever, though we still await your fathers. Tell me, do they follow?" There is the sensation of the ground falling away beneath her, and Tali's face grows hot. She shouldn't speak, she shouldn't, but the words pull themselves from her mouth before she can stop them.

"Are you not even aware that our family is dead?" She's overcome with amazement that this massive catastrophe, this unspeakably earthshattering event, has remained a secret for a little over a week, long enough for her brother's men to reach Ostagar at a stiff march, long enough for her to be plagued with endless and new variations of her memories as she sleeps. Finally, the shining smile falters, and worry creases Cailan's brow.

"Dead? What do you mean? Duncan, do you know anything about this?" Hesitantly, Duncan answers, solemn and hushed.

"The Teyrns and Teyrnas Cousland are indeed dead, Your Majesty. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor, and overtaken Highever Castle. It was…it was a slaughter." His last words are an addition, one meant, perhaps, to soften the blow of Talvinder's sudden outburst. If it works, she cannot tell, as the wrinkles of perturbation still hang on Cailan's forehead. "Had we not escaped," Duncan continues, "he would have killed us, and told you any story he wished."

"I—" Cailan's eyes dart between the small group huddled in front of him, his voice momentarily stilled. "I can scarcely believe it. How could he think he would get away with such treachery? Do you really speak true?" When Duncan nods, Cailan presses his lips together, staring at the ground. He pauses and composes himself somewhat, thinking on his next words before continuing. "As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. And if he has any allies in the lords and among the Landsmeet, they shall be swiftly dealt with. You have my word." Savreen quickly interjects before Tali can say anything.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. We are most grateful." The king nods, still distressed but with an apparent desire to move on from the topic.

"No doubt you may wish to see your brothers. Unfortunately, they are both out with separate scouting parties in the Wilds."

"When will they return?" Sav asks it, but Tali is wondering it, as well.

"Not until the battle is over, I fear. Until then, sending word south is a danger, one I and my captains are loath to risk. I apologize, but there is nothing more I can do in the meantime." There is genuine sorrow in his voice, but it is the pity there which irks Tali, the pity and the unwillingness to do anything about it. "All I can do is suggest that you vent your grief against the Darkspawn for the time being." This 'grief' he speaks of snaps suddenly in Tali's chest, the vise back again, the whispering voice at a roar, and before she can think better of it or stop herself, she shouts at him.

"What would you know about my grief?" Tension descends between them all, and Savreen goes pale as she hisses a chastisement at Tali, though there is more sadness in her words than anger as she yanks at her cousin's arm. Duncan attempts once more to smooth over the situation, though he stutters some this time, his voice trailing off ineffectually.

"Y-Your Majesty…I apologize…" But of all of them, the only one who appears fully unfazed is Cailan. He waves his hand as if to bat away the moment, and Tali is surprised with the softness of his voice when he speaks again.

"Don't worry, Duncan. You must all be eager to reach your tents. You have had a very long journey, no doubt. Have you any news before we part?"

"Only that your uncle sends his greetings and apologies for his ill health, and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week." Cailan barks out a few peals of laughter, and with that the tension is dispelled. He is once more all smiles, his voice rueful and humorous when he speaks.

"That's just like him, to want to swoop in at the last moment and claim all the glory." Cailan stops to shake his head and sigh, then continues, clapping his hand on Duncan's shoulder once more, almost as a signal that he has been dismissed. "Well, the battle is going ahead as planned. If he arrives in time, he'll get his part. But for now, I must return to my tent. Loghain is waiting there to bore me with his strategies, and I would write a few more letters before it is too dangerous to send the messengers out and back to Denerim. Farewell for now, Duncan. My ladies." With a courteous nod, he turns on his heel and retreats down the stone roadway, while Duncan gives Tali a very sharp look.

"Please, remember that we need his favor, not his ire." Mollified, but still mad, she looks at her boots and scratches Abarie's head. The mabari, at least, gazes at her with eyes that do not reproach.

"It sounds as though all is going…well?" Savreen breaks the silence with her question, and Duncan turns his attention to her instead, seemingly grateful to have one recruit who has not lost her senses.

"What the king said is…true, in a fashion. They have won several small battles and skirmishes against the Darkspawn here; the other Wardens have told me as much."

"And yet you do not sound totally reassured." It is not a question as much as it is an observation, and it does not seem one the Duncan is happy for Savreen to have made. He motions for them to follow him, and responds to her probing reluctantly.

"Despite the victories so far, the Darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us. I know there is an Archdemon behind this. The other Wardens agree with me. But even with their support, I cannot ask the king to act solely on my opinion."

"Why not? He seems to think quite highly of the Grey Wardens," Sav points out as they approach a wide bridge. Duncan smiles—or perhaps grimaces—wryly.

"Yet not enough to wait for reinforcements from the Grey Wardens of Orlais, or Weisshaupt. He believes our legend alone makes him invulnerable. But…our numbers in Ferelden are too few, and he refuses to accept that. We must do what we can and look to Teyrn Loghain and the rest of his armies to make up the difference. And to that end," he stops and turns to face the two of them, and Abarie, not expecting the sudden pause, bumps into the backs of Tali's knees. "We should proceed to the Joining ritual without delay."

"The Joining ritual? What ritual?" Tali cocks her head as she asks, trying desperately to remember Aldous's lessons on the Grey Wardens. There's nothing in there about rituals. She can tell from the quizzical look on Sav's face and the way she shrugs her shoulders that her cousin is drawing a blank, too.

"Every recruit must go through a secret ritual we call the Joining in order to become a Grey Warden. The ritual is brief, but some preparation is needed." Sav nods, but when she speaks, her tone is guarded.

"What do you need us to do, then?"

"Feel free to explore the camp as you wish, but I must ask that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it's time to summon the other recruits. Your hounds can stay with me while I attend to some business." Both Abarie and Sher whine slightly before Tali and Sav motion for them to follow Duncan. Sher barks happily and Abarie licks the palm of Tali's hand, and then they are trotting on Duncan's heels as he begins his way across the bridge. He calls over his shoulder as he heads off. "The Grey Warden tents are on the other side of this bridge, in the main encampment near the king's tent. You will find us there, should you need anything." Tali and Sav watch him for a moment, before Tali feels Sav's hand rest on her upper arm. Her face burns. Here comes the reprimand. She drops her eyes to the ground.

"I am sorry, Tali." What? She snaps her head up, confused, to look at Savreen. "For criticizing you in front of the king, and Duncan. I shouldn't have—well, it made things…it was awkward all around, and I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry." A faint laugh ripples through Tali, and she puts her hand on top of her cousin's.

"That was…the last thing I expected you to say."

"Oh, it was still absolutely reckless and indecorous of you, but then again, things are…not exactly normal." Another laugh, this time barked shortly before Tali realizes what she's done and slaps a hand over her mouth.

"Sav, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have laughed, I—" The laughter has dropped through her stomach like a burning coal, but Sav doesn't seem quite so horrified. Instead, she shakes her head and enfolds her younger cousin in a hug. There are no words, but none are needed. The anger inside Tali cools for a moment, and she forgets all the twisted jealousy for a goodbye she didn't get to say, at least for as long as Savreen's arms are wrapped around her. Tali has to stoop slightly in order to rest her head on Sav's shoulder, and she feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and clawing at the back of her throat. Even with the anger gone, the jealousy, the shame of laughing at just how much their life has changed, she still feels something roiling within her, and it takes her a minute to figure out what it is.

It's not what she laughed at. It's not anything so small. It's that she was even able to laugh at all. The tears are starting to come thick and fast now, and she feels herself start to panic. I can't cry here, not here, anywhere but here—

"Should we go find Alistair and the others?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Could you just, um, lead the way? I think there's a rock in my boot. I'll catch up with you." Hurriedly, Tali hides her face, though she's not sure why. Sav must know she's crying, how could she not? But still, she doesn't want her cousin to see, and so she bends down, facing away from Sav, and starts unbuckling her boot slowly. Deep breaths in, and out, gently, gradually, just concentrate on the rhythm, just in and out, nothing else. It takes a few minutes, but she can feel the tightness in her throat and eyes start to recede. It does nothing for the guilt sitting heavy in her limbs, but at least she won't burst into tears at the first guard they encounter. Or whoever this Alistair is. And if he's anything as intimidating as Duncan, that would be just the mortification she would need. Imagine breaking down in front of another grizzled and high-ranking Grey Warden. And then having to follow their command! Even though Sav knows it's a ruse, and even though she's most of the way across the bridge, Tali still makes a show of taking off her boot, shaking it out, and pulling it back on before she jogs to catch up.

"Took you long enough. Let's see if we can find these mysterious Grey Wardens."