The flat was dark and empty, but thanks to being on the second floor, was not freezing. The furniture had never been much to speak of, and so Ten was not surprised that most of it had been left behind, especially given the hastiness of the previous tenants' departure. The chair that Hanne had tied Jairo Montilleva to was still in the middle of the living room, and a venture to the bedroom door indicated that the latch was still broken from the dwarf's late night assault on it. The cold had not yet set in when they had left, so the whole winter's worth of firewood was piled high along the wall. Grateful for small favors, Ten set about lighting a fire in the hearth. She got it going, and rose to take stock of the situation. Alistair was standing awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at the opposite wall.

"Is this normal?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Hiding out in a flat previously occupied by your half brother and my best friend because he had to leave town because he got his sister in law pregnant during an encounter she paid him for and then tried to have him killed, all because you're angry at the man who raised you for leaving some very significant parts out about your parentage and my father still tells me what to wear despite the fact I am well into my twenties? No, I genuinely cannot say I have heard this one before."

"No, I mean… not to be presumptuous here, but… going to bed with someone an hour after you've kissed them for the first time? Is that normal?"

"Well nobody said we had to do that. Either way, we are very far outside the rules at this point," she said, "And it's been a very long day and we've both been drinking, so I am going to go to bed, what you do with that information is up to you. I will not be offended either way."

He chuckled, sounding relieved, "Right. Very… Very long day."

It would not be the first night Ten had spent on Ioan and Hanne's vast mattress. Before he'd met Hanne, Ioan, who had always been fairly clingy - that seemed to run in the family - would ask her to just stay the night and hold him when she came to visit, a request she had fulfilled out of…well she didn't know. He'd just been so alone. And then after Hanne, but still when the three of them were much younger and with younger peoples' boundaries or lack thereof, it was not unheard of for her to just crawl in with them like a child would with her parents after a nightmare, passing out after a night of too much moonshine - then usually waking up with her nose in an armpit or a foot in her face. This is weird, right? Oh I don't know. Do I care? Probably not. Too exhausted to give it much more energy, she unlaced her dress and shrugged it off, leaving her in the sleeveless kirtle under it which, while thin, still covered her from clavicle to knees.

"I'm pretty sure this is the point at which the sisters said I'd be struck by lightning."

Ten sat up. Alistair was standing in the doorway, looking like he was about the jump out of his skin with sheer nervousness.

"Well, I got that taken care of already," she said, pulling one strap aside to show where the lightning scar plunged from her neck down one shoulder, "What are the odds of it happening twice?"

"Oh you weren't kidding, that just… keeps going doesn't it."

"Don't tell Zev you got to see it first." She crawled under the bedclothes, "He'll try to fight you."

"Excuse me?"

She cracked up, "I'm messing with you. You look like a deer that just noticed the pack of wolves."

"Yes, well, shockingly one does not run into this situation frequently in the cloisters."

"Really, I thought the Chantry was just a bastion of homoerotic promiscuity"

"Oh it definitely is. I was just… never invited."

"Would you have attended if you were?"

"Never thought about it. Don't particularly want to right now."

"Well I am going to insist you piss off to the couch if that's what you intend to do. Standing in the doorway like that makes me nervous."

"Oh, no, with my luck another band of assassins breaks in. Safer in here."

"I still have a criminal record that probably fills two file rooms in Denerim and a large box in Highever. You remember that, right?"

"And if you don't have one in Amaranthine before the year's out I will be disappointed in you."

She could watch the process of him gathering his nerve on his face, and he approached and slid under the covers on the other side, "This bed is enormous."

He managed to sort of shimmy into the middle of it, where he could grab her hand and pull her the rest of the distance. As out of his depth the poor man certainly was, it occurred to Ten that she, too, was treading new territory. Far cry from five minutes in a hayloft or bent over a workbench. And so she made no moves of her own, keeping about a foot of distance between them, feeling him reach out with one fingertip to trace her jawline and then down the pale fractal scar down the side of her neck.

"I'm sure they bought it with guests in mind," she said, after the silence had become awkward, going for the truly low hanging fruit.

"Sure they could have just invested in a second…."

"Not that kind of guest, Alistair," Ten sighed.

"What kind of guest would you share a… oh. That's a thing?"

"Um… well… yes?"

"Wait… but you were never that sort of guest, right?"

"Ew. Of course not," she protested, "Though I suppose you do deserve to know Ioan and I did kiss once."

Alistair's fingers paused on their slow journey down the outside of her shoulder. "I am going to need some context for that."

"Well first of all, we were about twelve."

"Ah, fair enough." She felt him relax. She had honestly almost forgotten the story herself, it had been so many years since it had even felt relevant. "But there is more context, yes?"

She chuckled, shaking her head ruefully. "It was summer or early fall. A bunch of us had snuck out to go swimming in the middle of the night because children are stupid. Someone dared us, we did, and then Ioan promptly announced to every friend I had including four of my cousins that, while he hadn't been sure before, now he knew that he didn't like girls after all."

"Aw, and that was probably your first kiss wasn't it."

"Only been living with that trauma most of my life," Ten chuckled.

"Is that what this is about?"

"You caught me. I bided my time for over a decade, then got myself hate-crimed and thrown in the dungeons just so I could wind up in the man's bed with his half brother neither of us even knew existed."

"You say that like it's insane, but that is exactly the sort of diabolical long game I'd expect from you."

"You give me far too much credit. Anyway, first kisses are kind of supposed to be cringe-inducing, aren't they. It builds the character needed to withstand all the indignities of adult life. I'm sure yours was just as bad."

"Well I bloody hope not," he said.

"If you have to worry it probably was."

"You tell me. It happened about forty-five minutes ago and you were definitely there."

It was Ten's turn to pause. She had been absently running her thumb along the seam of his shirt by his left shoulder, and stopped. Is this a surprise, given where he came from? I suppose not. Sure explains a lot. Don't make it weird. Well. Weirder. It's already very weird.

"To be fair," she said, "It was closely followed by me calling some woman out in the middle of the street and throwing a bottle at her, pretty sure you cringed at that."

"I did, but in hindsight, I think I would have been disappointed if you hadn't."

"Hildy from the Hinterlands would never. But, wait, seriously?"

"I think we've established I didn't exactly have a regular adolescence."

"So, what, is this your final descent into madness?"

"I'm pretty sure that happened long ago. I haven't felt this sane in years."

"You know I chopped a man up while he was still alive. I cut off a man's ear and made him drink rat poison. I strung seven corpses from the topmast of a ship. And all that was just this year…"

"Look, Ten. I don't even talk about the things I've done, the things I stood by and watched because I was told to. There was no horrific wrong to avenge, no kids to protect. Just orders. And that is what I'm going to answer for when I go to meet the Maker, not this."

"Right. Heretic's fork. Well, I suppose you're grown. You make your decisions."

His hand, in the meantime, had been creeping back up her shoulder to her neck, and it wasn't much of a reach for him to get her by the back of the head and kiss her again. It was very clear to her at this point that he had been telling the truth previously, but she went with it, his enthusiasm making up for any clumsiness that went along with it. She had been in this position before, more or less, being the gust of fresh air to a drowning man, but this time it was as though she just realized that maybe she had been drowning as well. His hands were callused but his touch was gentle, and so she let him explore as men were wont to do, only stopping him once he had her on her back, the skirt of her kirtle hiked all the way up, and made a move for the laces of his pants.

"Hold on," she said, putting one hand on his chest.

"Shit. I'm sorry. Did you not… want to?"

"Well, yes, but… are you sure you do?"

"You caught me. Put your clothes back on, I've prepared a two-hour lecture on the progressions of word choices in early Nevarran scripture translation over the last century. Take notes, there will be a quiz at the end."

She made to get up and reach for her gown where she had left it on an end table, but found herself seized about the waist and pulled back mostly to where she had been, except this time he was on his back, which was, given the circumstances, a far more practical choice. All right, well, I guess we'll see if it's 'so deprived it take thirty seconds' or 'so nervous it takes thirty minutes.'

It turned out to be closer to the latter, taking a bit of fumbling and a couple of false starts, but eventually both got where they were going, Ten completely losing herself and loosing a string of curses that would probably have her banished to the worst part of the Fade if she weren't already slated for such a fate, Alistair - completely tickled by this development - following suit a few minutes later. Ten registered, before the sleep which had been chasing her for several hours took her, that the snow was rattling the windowpanes, dismissing thoughts of what consequences there would be when she awoke.

The low-hanging sun was reflecting off the windows on the opposite side of the street when it hit Ten square in the eye and set her sighing and looking around. I know this view. I'm in Ioan's flat. Yes. Because he gave me the key after I saved his shit from assassins. All right, what absolute fuckshit did I get up to this time? Oh yes… I only finagled the strangest non-coup the continent has ever seen. Well done, Tabris. So… it appears as though I am not dressed fully and… She sat up, pulling her knees up, feeling the telltale consistency of two people's hasty decisionmaking on the inside of her thighs. Oh… right, I did do that. Well, that was… that was certainly a choice. She pulled her skirt down over her knees, looking over to see a familiar back turned to her.

Jostled awake by her movement, Alistair turned and looked up, putting one arm to block the wan but insistent rays of the winter sun, "How long have you been staring at me?"

"You know, you tend to wear clothes a bit too big for you," she observed, rather than answer the question. It was true. Now having seen him without them, when his back had been turned, if someone had told her the man lying next to her was an elf, she'd have believed it. She filed this information away, wondering how many secret halfbreeds she'd missed because she hadn't simply taken them to bed.

"Yes, well, shockingly neither the Chantry nor the Grey Wardens have fulltime tailors on staff," he said, "I've got slightly narrow shoulders for a man my height."

She nodded, "For a human your height."

"Bit early in the morning for eugenics, isn't it?" His voice was a little irritated, but he rolled over towards her, registering how completely out of sorts she was - one braid having come completely loose, the other sort of hanging there as though it didn't know what to do.

"It's closer to noon than dawn," Ten chided. Andraste's left tit. Does this mean I have a type? Well that's embarrassing. She reached up and loosened her remaining braid, fishing a few errant hairpins out.

"Hard to tell with the snow banked up on the windows like that."

"Yeah, well, the bad news is that sometime in the night, the Maker saw fit to dump two or more feet of snow on the city." She leaned over to deposit the hairpins on the end table along with her discarded dress.

"Oh no, are we stuck here?" The hairpins hit the floor in a series of clicks as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back towards him. One hand grabbed a brazen handful of her hip. "Whatever will we do?"

"Good news is," she said, getting one bare foot on his shoulder and pushing him gently back, enjoying the little thrill of power it gave her, "Nobody's looking for us in this weather. Everyone at the estate will assume we bunked down in the Alienage, everyone in the Alienage will assume we made it back to the estate, and never the twain shall meet."

"How long do you think we have before someone comes looking for us?" He got a hand around her ankle and pulled it back so her knee was resting on his shoulder.

"Not long enough," she replied, "Knowing Gwylan he'll be tromping through it. And then the twain shall meet."

At the mention of the butler's name, Alistair pushed her leg from his shoulder and flopped down next to her. "Strange man, that. Why are you worried about him?"

"Because despite his constant admonishments about scandal, he secretly loves it… when it involves the elves," she said.

"Well it involves me too."

"Sure, but you're a man. It's not scandalous for you."

"I really do not understand these rules."

"That's fine, they make no sense and serve no purpose other than delighting gossips and making things very uncomfortable for the grown daughters of overbearing fathers. Gwylan Eilvaris, at the end of the day, is a petty snitch who would absolutely delight in being the one to tell my dad I haven't been seen since I disappeared into the night with a man who is human for all intents and purposes."

"I… don't think you need to worry about your dad." His voice was flat, and he rose again so the two of them sat side by side.

"I know, I know, I'm far past the age when his opinion ought to bother me… but… he's still my dad."

"Well I just don't think he would be surprised," Alistair said. His voice had gotten hesitant. She looked over at him.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" She bristled, "I'll have you know my track record, while not spotless, is not such that this would be expected." She remembered sneaking in a window in the middle of the night the summer she was fourteen and, to her dismay, her father and uncle were seated at the kitchen table, playing dominoes at two in the morning. They kept her there, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary, and asking her how her day had been, how her lessons had gone, if she had made anything new at her apprenticeship. She had stood there and gone along with it, several pieces of hay still stuck in her hair, dying on the inside. It took her years to realize that they had done that on purpose, knowing what she'd been up to, and intending to cause her so much embarrassment that she didn't do it again… or was sneakier the next time. Ah shit. Maybe it is.

"That is absolutely not what I meant. It's that I…" Alistair's voice trailed off, "And please don't be angry with me, I truly had intended to go about this whole thing in a far less unhinged manner but, what happened happened and… as silly as it sounds right now…"

"What did you do?"

"I… may or may not have asked him for his permission to court you."

She looked at him for a moment, looking for some sign that he was kidding. None came, he just sat there, his arms crossed over his knees, waiting for her reaction. Had she been drinking something it would have come out of her nose at that point, and she laughed harder than she had in a very long time, for longer than she could remember. "You what?!" she finally squawked.

"That was his reaction too, actually."

"Is that what he and my uncle were losing their shit over yesterday? I was afraid they'd both finally lost their minds."

"You're going to have to explain the punchline."

"Men like you don't ask. They take. The very idea of one of you people bothering to even get a woman's input on whether she's interested is already out of the ordinary, let alone remembering she's a person with a family and traditions, let alone recognizing and respecting those traditions… the very idea is absurd to me, and must have been doubly so to them."

"Oh, so now I'm a 'you people' again?"

"You know what I mean. Look, I'm not angry, in fact I'm a bit… impressed frankly, but you have to understand how crazy that was. So what, you stuttered it out, he laughed, you left?"

"Well I sort of stood there like the idiot I am while he and your uncle laughed in my face, but he did finally get ahold of himself. He asked how I'd met you, and I told him, asked if my family would disapprove, told him I don't have one, he asked if I knew what it was to protect an elfin girl, I told him about beating the tar out of Ser Kristhen - he liked that, by the way - then he asked if I knew you'd been married, I said yes, the whole country knows about that. Then he asked if I was prepared to lose absolutely everything over you because I certainly would, I said I didn't really have all that much to lose but they could have the rest if they wanted it, then he asked if I loved you, I said obviously, didn't he? He said of course he does but he was required to and for me it was definitely a choice and why the hell would I do that and I shrugged and said you make me laugh, and he kind of blinked at me a few times and said, and I quote, 'Well, good luck with that, kid, you have my blessing if it makes you feel better, but it's your funeral.' Then I got out of there before he could change his mind."

She thought about telling Alistair that actually, since she had already been married, what she did and with whom she did it was her own damn business and there was no actual expectation of familial approval for anything, but decided to let him have the win. "Well, I guess that's that then. You know after last night you owe him several goats."

"How many goats are we talking about?"

She chuckled, "Well maybe a goat. At this point I'm probably worth an aged billy that faints whenever he hears a loud noise."

"Where does one even buy goats around here?."

"Third wharf from the south outside the slums," she said, "But not at this time of year. More saliently, though… do you see any reason to get up today?"

Alistair took in a sharp, hissing breath. "Come to think of it… not really. How long do you suppose we have before people start worrying?"

Ten glanced out of the window again, "Well the record is three days for me, but realistically the streets won't be clear for at least two, which buys us some time. Unless Howe managed to somehow double the snow-clearing budget before you killed him."

"And after that, then what? What happens when we have to go back to it?"

"Then we go back to it." She turned towards him. He looked a bit troubled, frankly, his far-too-dark eyes searching her face.

"What about when we're back out on the road?" he asked.

"What about it?"

"I just… I don't think I could handle it if you acted like none of this ever happened."

"Why do you think I'd do that?" she asked, trying to sound perplexed but knowing exactly what Alistair was getting at, and knowing he wasn't wrong to ask.

"You did it to the last man. Kept him a secret."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Ten said dismissively, well and truly sick of the topic being brought up, but careful not to be too harsh, "That was completely different."

"How? Apparently he and I have quite a bit in common."

Of course he'd throw that in my face. He's been around me too long, he's starting to learn where to stick the knife.

"Well first of all," she said, "You're not a copper. Second, I am not slated to marry anyone at the moment. Third, unless I have grossly underestimated you, you are not carrying out the agenda of some third party who's actually interested in spying on me."

"Oh. I didn't know that's what happened."

"And you didn't need to. I'm actually quite humiliated by the whole thing, and I would appreciate never discussing it again. Especially not with you. It's done. He's gone. It doesn't matter."

"Fine. Fair enough. Sorry."

She took a breath, willing the irritation out of her voice. "And what is it you want? After this bit's over?"

He thought for a moment. "I want us both to live long enough for this to become mundane," he said, "I want to be able look at you, half dressed with your hair all over the place, just like you are right now, and just have it be... normal. Average. Run of the mill."

"Why, what do you think now?"

"More along the lines of 'I cannot believe she let me do any of that' then 'and sweet Maker's breath, she is probably going to let me do it again.'"

She laughed softly, shaking her head, "You are brand new, aren't you."

"Well I'm not, and that's the problem. I'm too old for this. Look, I'm not a child, I know there's no happy ending here. Shit, there was no happy beginning. Quite a lot of senseless tragedy in fact. But for now… for this bit in the middle, I'd like to carry on as long as we can."

"Well you don't need to get all morose," she chided.

"I'm not morose, this is the first time in many years I've actually gotten exactly what I wanted. I'm just… feeling the shortness of my own life. Suddenly another decade or two doesn't seem like such a long time."

"It isn't. And it is. Time is strange, I feel like yesterday took three years." Well this is getting depressing. Deciding to abruptly change the tenor of the conversation, she got up on her knees, and pulled her kirtle over her head, tossing it onto the end table on top of her discarded gown. "But, we are not dead yet. Let's not act like it."