Dragon Age 1. The still of Highever

_This is my first fanfiction story, rewritten based on what I've learned through my writings, to fix some little things that don't perfectly match my sequels, and to provide more in-depth character information rather than to just write down the Origins story line on my account. _

_I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed (re)writing this! Please feel free to drop me a line, I love to read your responses and it's what keeps me on my toes and motivated to write!_

_This story is based on Bioware's game Dragon Age: Origins. I do not own any of these characters or storylines for they are created by Bioware. Not intended for sale or other than recreational purposes._

**.1 The still of Highever**

Highever was still in it's ageless grandeur the day Duncan arrived, as it had been since the days of old. Having earned the respect and loyalty of their people, the Couslands were known to have served the embattled Kings of Ferelden during the Orlesian Invasion. Being well known as a noble family with a great sense of duty and justice, it was no surprise to any of Highever's inhabitants that the Grey Wardens were laying their request to expand their ranks on the Cousland's personal behalf.

Nor was it a surprise that Bryce had cast off any spark of hope for either party. Despite his willingness to send his son off to lead his regiment of soldiers to the impending clash at Ostagar, he waved off any attempt the Grey Warden and Elissa made to make him agree to a more thorough measure.

"Honor though it might be to have you acknowledge the potential of my youngest for your Order, this is my daughter we're talking about. I have not so many children that I'll gladly see them all of to battle." His suggestion that Duncan would invoke the right of conscription sounded a challenge unable to defy, despite the laws of old that would mean he would be able to do exactly so. When the Warden respectfully laid down his plea, Elissa reluctantly accepted her father's request to watch over the castle in their absence. Despite her inexperience on the field and any tasks of great responsibility alike, leaving the castle to join a legendary order of warriors seemed easier, if not more exciting than ruling the lands in her father's and brother's stead.

Growing up a Cousland had meant a privileged life for Elissa, and a rather untroubled one at that. As her only brother Fergus was destined to eventually rule the lands from birth, Elissa was a nobleman's daughter with little obligations besides those that came with her heritage. Her parents being occupied with their duties as well as bringing up their successor, their youngest and only daughter was assigned a wet nurse at a young age.

Being the castle cook Nan knew labor's lament and she made sure Elissa spent plenty of her time growing up in the kitchens with the common folk. Ignoring the young Cousland's status where she could she often sent her on errands within the citadel, delighted behind her sturdy physique to see how the girl grew up to be more than a child of noble origin: Modest, approachable, and not afraid to get her hands dirty. The only thing that betrayed her status of birth were the high notes of her speech and the ease of her moving and thinking, caused by her sheltered surroundings and her lack of winters and wars.

Yet as Elissa used to skip through the narrow passages of the Citadel, running small errands and helping tend the hounds and horses, there were few that didn't love her and what they considered her quirks, commoner and noble alike. Though never far from the castle and rarely unsupervised by the people of Highever, it occured more often that nor her parents or her Nan knew where she had ended up. Yet not once had she proven to betray the trust of her beloved by getting lost or returning after dark, yet always with her face full of dirt, covering the flushed cheeks and freckles of a happy, healthy child.

Although Eleanor had planned on her daughter to be accompanied by her own ladies in waiting at an appropriate age, Nan's approach had proven to have spoiled her plans before they had time to unfold. Elissa grew up to be more of a tomcat than a bride to be, and the first attempts to have her educated in the rules of etiquette were all but in vain. She escaped the salon to trade her needle for a sword, her lessons in the Orlesian tongue for stories in the guardhouse. Yet when Eleanor put her foot down as she felt a mother should, Elissa had finally been willing to trade Nan's story-wrapped wisdoms for more stately lessons by brother Aldous in the library.

Her independence and freedom gave her opportunities her brother rarely got to enjoy. As Fergus was required to attend the people's court in Highever's great hall, Elissa often found time to watch the guardsmen practice their swords. Although the Cousland heir was instructed by the best masters in melee Ferelden could offer, it was Elissa who was rewarded her first blade when she had managed to topple over one of the younger lads in the Cousland guard. A gracious loser as he were, Gilmore had offered to keep the hand-me-down short sword for her in his trunk, allowing her to practice him whenever they found the privacy.

When she got older her trips started to advance further from the castle; from hiding in a farmer's carriage to visit the village to persuading a stable boy to borrow a horse, only the be caught sneaking back into her room around midnight. When even Lord Bryce decided his lady wife's points about their only daughter's safety and reputation were valid, Elissa reluctantly agreed to spend her days chaperoned as befitted a blossoming young noblewoman. Her hearty pleas to keep practicing her swordplay with the soon to be knighted squire Gilmore, were compensated by private weaponry lessons.

As a teenager for the first time understanding the responsibility and the burdens of her blood she held a hidden rebellion, continuing to do whatever her heart desired while fitting her role as young lady Cousland. She practiced her posture by presenting herself as a noblewoman during political dinners, only to tie her dress up in the castle gardens when the youngest guests challenged her to a wooden swordfight. When she convinced to join her father's hunting party to make sure her Mabari hound would get to stretch his legs, she ended up shooting the first hare of the season, much to her brother's disdain. And with the grandeur of a lady of status she convinced a young travelling merchant to take the risk to teach her the finer arts of lockpicking and pickpocketing, rewarding him to her discretion and kicking him out at first light with only a fleeting kiss from her bedroom window.

Although her acts were more subtle within the confinement of watchful eyes and the Citadel, she enjoyed the role she decided to fulfill; not a noblewoman but a rogue at heart, embracing her privileged life to enjoy it to the fullest. The mischievous smile that often played in the corner of her mouth was interpreted by many wedding candidates as a mysterious passion they couldn't quite put their finger on, making them lose their mind over young lady Cousland who wasn't only known to be from one of the most respected families of Ferelden, but was also turning into an attractive young woman of marriageable age.

Proposals she waved off with a sweet politeness, feeling as flattered as amazed by their interest: She had always considered the young banns and lords to carry as little romantic appeal as they did to her; them embracing their life amongst the nobility, while she traded it in for more adventure and excitement. Elissa dreamed of escaping an arranged marriage, shocking her family as she did, but not before she had visited Antiva or attended the grand carnival in Orlais. Yet despite her nature to swim against the current, she felt too young and too complacent to undertake any journey that would take her from her easy routine. Life was good amongst her loved ones, and she felt it unnecessary to trade it in after she felt she had compromised so much to make it suit.

But life seemed to change, and not only at the castle. Rumors about a blight were humming amongst the people, and it didn't take long until they took form at the Cousland council. Peasants feared as much for their crops and cattle as for the protection of their homes, and before the teyrn had been able to set up formation for their protection, King Cailan had sent word for his required arrival down south. Hopefully, house Cousland would solve their troubles by taking part in the battle that would defeat the culprit once and for all, strengthened in unity under the King's banner.

While Arl Howe and Duncan exchanged what she considered pleasantries Elissa stared at the floor, fully appreciating the urgency of the matter; it has never been necessary for her family to entrust her with a political role before. To make matters worse, the instructions her father gave her didn't quite reach her as did the low baritone of the stranger who called himself Duncan. She stole a look at him as she nodded absentmindedly; the soldier looked weathered, a man of wisdom, yet handsome in his stateliness and humble confidence. Yet the more of his words reached her ears, the more she realized it was folly to think she could measure herself with the likes of him and his order. As it often had her reputation must have preceded her; even if Duncan were to recruit her he would realize cunning and wit would only get her so far.

Elissa averted her eyes as she fully grasped the severity of the situation, suddenly feeling guilty, if not folly. She met her father's eyes who seamlessly picked up on her troubles. He smiled reassuringly to his youngest child and patted her on the shoulders. "Find Fergus, and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me. I will be waiting to ride with Rendon Howe's men when they arrive on the morrow."

"I will, father." Elissa's courage had left her in the great hall, under the impending threat she felt she wouldn't possibly be part off.


	2. Bitter sweet

**.2 Bitter sweet**

After being sent out to warn Fergus about his premature departure, Elissa retired to her room to think, trying to remember her historical lessons about previous blights and the role the Grey Wardens played in the history of Ferelden. Despite the late summer heat she felt uncompelled to satisfy her curiosity by visiting the library; she felt an urgent need to be secluded, if only in the company of her faithful Mabari hound.

When a soft knock on her door finally reminded her she was expecting company, she stood up from her vanity stool and called for entry, although her voice still sounded more absentminded than she had wished for.

In the door opening stood a beautiful blonde woman, shyly looking her way while straightening her dress. "You expected me, my lady?" 

"I did," Elissa reminded herself, breaking her stare into nothing to lay her eyes upon her nightly guest. Then her gaze softened, warming her thoughts with a smile. "Of course I did. Please close the door, Iona."

The elven girl followed suit without a sound and remained where she was, looking rather lost. As Elissa forced a deserving smile on her lips, she gazed at her expectantly. Apparently, the lack of coyness in Landra's lady in waiting had disappeared with the evening sun, while she herself had been the one who had offered to make a visitation at nightfall after some laden remarks.

Yet now she stood there, looking everywhere but at the bed and at Elissa. Forcing some patience on herself, the youngest Cousland waited in silence as she made her eyes wander over the girl in front of her. She wore an elven made dress off the shoulder, embroidered around the hems which made her tunic of fine wool look like a beggar's garment. Her figure was slender and fragile, yet her arms and shoulders hid a soft muscular tone, revealing there was more than met the eye. It was this that made Elissa put more effort in her persuasion, as willing to put as much patience and tact into which the situation might require.

Elissa sat back down on the stool of her modest vanity, only attired with a brush and a hair comb that had recently been gifted to her by a bann's son who's name she ceased to remember. Feeling more determined than silly, she grabbed the brush and started to untangle her hair. Though fine and wavy it was more often a mess than the fall of luscious honey it could be, and she roughly pulled at the strands to comb out the knots the wind had tied in them.

"No, let me," Iona spoke hesitantly as she approached her in a sudden hurry. Elissa presented her the brush with a smile, welcoming the elf's slender hands as she carefully handled the brush. She comfortably cocked her head back, allowing her neck to rest on her shoulders as she closed her eyes and sighed in delight. Although only as for recent, she enjoyed having her hair combed.

When Iona's hand left her hair to reach for the pearled comb on the vanity, Elissa opened her eyes. "No need for that," She purred confidently as she played the tips of her fingers in the palm of the elf's slender hand.

Iona, visibly reassured by Elissa's refreshed mood, smiled impishly. "And have my work be in vain?" Her free hand appreciated a single strand of hair, like only a woman could.

"I was hoping to mess it up shortly." The youngest Cousland confessed with an ease that betrayed her familiarity with the art of seduction. The elf didn't cease to notice and sounded her sweet amusement on the matter, as Elissa enjoyed the tinkling of her laugh.

"I will not mock your work, sweet Iona. If you will not mock mine."

Elissa spun around on the stool of the vanity and urgently pressed her lips against Iona's, who parted them in welcome.

"There's the girl I met earlier today,"

Elissa softly breathed the words into her mouth, tracing her lips with the tip of her tongue. Iona's body trembled slightly and answered her question with a deep passionate kiss, as if to prove Elissa had found not only that girl, but also a woman, familiar with her needs and wishes. 

As Iona slowly guided her to the bed, Elissa gently pushed the dress off her shoulders, allowing a marvelous sight at the hills of her bosom. She smiled in appreciation, the more when she pulled the remaining fabric over the elf's slender hips. She then climbed on top of her, drowning herself in the sweetness of her company, to forget her troubles, if only it were for a little while.

Shortly after, Elissa dreamed of fields of sun ripened grain, the scent of summer, and sweat trickling down blonde shoulders. Eventually twilight of her inner eye turned into a red horizon; clouds obscuring the moon as they formed a daunting red sky. The sweet flavor on her lips became a distant memory as she tasted smoke on her tongue, smoke, ash and blood.

Elissa instantly opened her eyes as she found herself awake by her Mabari's fervent barking. Iona immediately stirred, and she stood up wearily. Elissa, used to living under the protection of the citadel, couldn't help but steal a look at the naked girl moving towards the door, swaying her hips with every step.

"Your hound is making so much noise, he seems so angry!"

"I could put him out in the hall," Elissa proposed as she remembered her dream and wondered what it meant. Taking an example from Iona's imprudence, she too stood up without dressing, and rubbed her eyes to force some focus upon herself.

"I thought I heard yelling when I woke up, but now I hear nothing."

Iona looked at the door as the Mabari Hound scratched at it with all it's might, as meaning to go out for a walk. But it took little to realize he never did, not at this time of night.

Elissa stopped dead in her steps, realizing what woke her up and how unforeseen the situation was that had befallen upon them.

"I'm going to see if someone's in the hall" Iona stated, reaching for the doorknob before Elissa was able to open her mouth and speak. As the door flew open a sharp whistle filled the confinement of the bedroom, followed by a dull thud.

Elissa ran to her armoire to grab her longsword, to aid her hound which was audibly repelling their attackers. When she ran into the hall she tripped, smacking painfully to the cold floor. She lay amidst two soldiers, one of them an archer. Both their throats were ripped, and her dog sat next to them, eyeing them for moves they were never again going to make. When she looked over her shoulder to see what tripped her, she met Iona's lifeless stare.


	3. Together alone

**.3 Together alone **

She woke up by the sound of her own screams. Not in her bed, not surrounded by the heavy walls of the citadel, which had proven no protection when it was needed most. Elissa panted heavily while trying to get a grasp at her surroundings, breathing in the unfamiliar smell of damp earth, watching the shadows flickering across the ground from a dying fire.

"You're awake," a deep voice spoke close by.

Elissa struggled in the tangles of her blanket as she reached for her weapon girdle, adorning the Cousland family sword. By the time she managed to point it towards the sound her eyes had become focused in the half-dark of the forest. Across a smoldering campfire sat a man with his back against a tree. Her Mabari rested his head on his paws, eyeing her wearily.

"Bad dreams?" Duncan inquired with a worrisome look on his face.

Elissa took a moment to steady her breathing, and quickly lowered her weapon. After she received another watchful look from her hound, she sat back on her bedroll in silence.

This was the fourth night in a row she faced Duncan in near hysteria. With little pride she realized that this time she at least had managed to find her sword, instead of cower under the blankets or even run off into the woods, only to come to her senses after a few steps, shamefully coming eye to eye with her companion.

Some Grey Warden she would be.

Duncan respected her wordless answer, staring into the glowing embers in their midst as he must have while she had trashed in her sleep. Elissa sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes once more, as if their hurting would bring her back to her senses.

Her last moments in Highever kept playing through her mind when she was least prepared for it. Tripping over Iona's corpse, struggling away from it in disgust as blood started to pool from under the body she had loved shortly before. Finding her father wounded on the floor near the larder, and vowing him to find Fergus and tell him about his wife and son's untimely death, and the succession of Highever that had fallen upon him. Her mother who stubbornly refused to leave her dying father's side, vowing to protect him with nothing more than a bow and the arrows left in her quiver.

The last lesson she had learned from her parents, was one in righteousness. Because despite their impending deaths they made her vow to serve the Grey Wardens, after she had revenged the fall of her lands. The sigil the soldiers wore and the absence of the Arl had screamed to truth at her; Rendon Howe had betrayed them, taking Highever at it's weakest before the impending battle.

If only she dreamed of twisting his neck instead of being succumbed to the horrors that terrorized her in her sleep, leaving her weak when she had to be strong. Yet that all strength had left her Duncan must have already realized; she lost all of it as he dragged her out of the Citadel through the larder's secret passage, while she sobbed and screamed until they watched Highever burn from the neighboring hills.

Elissa found herself overpowered with grief. Whether it was of lack of sleep or because she felt humiliated and weak for the fourth night in a row, she wasn't sure. She couldn't help but lose all faith and confidence in both the situation and herself. She had lost her parents, her family. The people she grew up with. And instead of protecting home and hearth like she felt she should, she was travelling away from atonement, away from revenge.

She held her head down and cried silently, trying to hold her breath to prevent herself from making a sound, soon finding herself not able to hold back her sobs any longer. Tears streaked down her face and for the first time she cried without shame; for the dead, for the life she had lost and for the new life she was expected to embrace.

"Your losses were severe Elissa," the deep voice now spoke next to her, "and there is no shame in showing your emotions." Without hesitation Duncan continued, like the words had been on his lips for a while. "You are alive, and even though they are not you can make sure their passing was not in vain. Serve your country to benefit the next generations to come."

Elissa looked up at the Warden and cried out all was lost. Fergus was probably dead, and with her petty skills the Cousland line would die with her. "I'm no noble knight like my brother, nor am I a just ruler like my father, or even a sweet loyal woman like my mother."

As the severity of the truth grabbed her by the throat, her words turned into hoarse whispers. 

"I was always the odd one out. Never the successor, never a fierce warrior. Fergus was destined for great things, not me."

As she spoke what she felt was the truth out loud, a deadly calm overwhelmed her into stupor.

"I've lost everything. There's nothing left."

Duncan looked into the eye of desperation and couldn't help but break down his distant posture. His eyes betrayed he knew of personal loss, but also of the power of hope. He kneeled down beside Elissa and lay his palm on the back of her neck, softening his tone of voice.

"Elissa Cousland, you have already proven that my decision to conscript you was right by showing your strength and courage in this terrible ordeal. That the path for your brother was paved from birth does not mean you are a branch from another tree; you too are destined for greatness, yet have another road to go."

He squeezed her neck reassuringly, but didn't remove his hand. "And even though this might seem like a trip you have to undertake alone, you will find camaraderie with your fellow Grey Wardens."

He attempted to meet her teary eyes, reviewing the effect of his words. She hesitantly looked up, meeting his friendly gaze, and for the first time since she lost her family she didn't feel alone.

Her heart swelled with a desire to comfort her torn soul. To forget her misery, if only for a couple of hours. She wanted to thank him for the kind words that slightly mended the hole in her chest and made her regain a small portion of her confidence, find back an old portion of herself that still lived at Highever with her family.

Guided by her instinct she leaned over to Duncan, and gently kissed his stubbly cheek towards his lips. Then, with desperate fervor, Elissa touched her mouth to his, quickly increasing the pressure and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She thanked him in the best way she found imaginable; willing to present him her body, leading him on with a kiss that would give no question about her intentions, giving him free reign in gratitude for taking her under his wing.

When his response wasn't what she expected, she hesitantly opened her eyes.

Duncan was leaning back on his arms, looking rigid, his face tense. Elissa slowly withdrew her lips from his, reeling in the arm around his neck as she sat back on her bedroll. She looked down as she blushed. She rarely blushed.

She felt utterly stupid.

"I'm, sorry." She muttered as felt her pride break in her chest. "I thought, after what you said..."

She stammered, not finding the courage to look anywhere else but at her hands in her lap.

She hoped she would be reprimanded, to channel her shame into anger. Yet the words didn't come. Nothing was said for a long time.

Duncan stood up, gave a deep sigh and eventually sat down again, this time with a polite distance.

"My apologies, I did not mean to…"

"No you didn't, I…" Elissa stuttered before she sighed, torn between shame and an infinite sadness, to see herself undoubtedly spoil what was left for her.

The silence that followed was impregnable. It didn't take long before Elissa considered standing up, and run into the woods. Her hound would follow her. She could even leave her sword behind as it's grip felt unfamiliar and clumsy in her hand. The family sword, that had done the Couslands little good. She would run until she reached the Waking Sea, run until she died for all she cared. Maybe then she would be reunited with her family, and she could live with their disappointment of broken promises if only it would finish her hurting.

"It isn't that I do not find you attractive, young lady Cousland. But I am too old and preoccupied for romance, or pleasure alike."

Duncan smiled carefully. "Nor is this the time to encourage the advances of a young woman in distress."

Elissa surprised herself when her lips curled up in a lethargic smile. The truth couldn't have been farther off, but she appreciated his courteous effort to soothe her shame.

Effortlessly following the game of coercion she was familiar with, she felt confident enough to steal a glance from the man opposite to her. She took note of the little lines around his eyes, but nobody in her position would declare she was gazing at the face of an old man. For the first time in days, she realized he was bothered with troubles beyond her own, and not without reason.

They sat in silence while the morning light cleared out the darkest shadows around them. Relief had joined their midst, making their wordless momentum a welcome change of pace. Elissa took comfort from his presence, politely distant though it might be, and after several hours she wondered whether he did as well.

Despite the impending cold, none of them felt the need to feed the fire. Although Elissa had wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, Duncan had not moved at all. They appreciated the situation for what it was, as Elissa realized her duty now went beyond the borders of the protection of her elderly home. Who knew, maybe she was destined for greater things, after all. Because she realized that if she wouldn't grasp at this chance at life, she would be dead already.

"Thank you, Duncan." She spoke as the morning light had creeped up on them.

Duncan returned her smile, and nodded slowly.

"Let us break up camp. We have three more days to travel to Ostagar."


	4. The Joining

**.4 The Joining**

Elissa found a faithful companion in Duncan in the remaining days of their journey. It wasn't a common friendship where time was killed by small talk or telling stories; they mainly travelled in silence. They both seemed to agree on a physical distance after the rather uncomfortable misunderstanding, but they paced on completely at ease; relying on each other to good results, speaking with only half a word.

By the time they were nearing their destination, Elissa started to accept her new position in the here and now; a Grey Warden recruit with nothing to lose and promises to fulfill. She was grateful for having been able to spend time with a man of Duncan's stature; his respectful yet loyal demeanor had helped her give the new view on life her grief had yearned for.

As the ruins of Ostagar doomed over them in the distance, Duncan's shoulders had shaken off their fatigue. Despite his undeniable eagerness to bridge the last miles to their final stand at evenfall, he had insisted on delaying their arrival to the next day, allowing him time to clean and don his armor properly and to shave and trim his facial hair. Elissa held no doubt it was preparation rather than vanity.

Despite how she was clad in the old leather cuirass and the family sword that she felt fitted her awkwardly, Elissa tried her best to make herself presentable under the circumstances. She had expected Duncan to nod politely or appreciate the gesture, but instead he promised her a lighter blade, two if she were up to handling them, to fit her physique.

Elissa couldn't help but find the practicality in his voice rude, as she had sought reassurance. But as they entered the encampment and were welcomed by King Cailan she realized the tables had turned, at least for the time being. Duncan had been her savior, but as for now he was the head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.

Though ever polite he noted he had other tasks to attend to, and a renewed feeling of abandonment was quickly pressed to the back of her mind as Elissa accepted the King's promise to look into the betrayal of Highever as soon as the battle against the darkspawn was fought. To her immense relief he proposed her brother would be able to lead the siege in her family's name after he would return from his scouting expedition.

With the King's high spirits and the autumn sunlight warming the cold stones of Ostagar, Elissa couldn't help but embrace the hope that hummed amongst the troops, and the hearty greetings on her address as the newest Grey Warden recruit. The late realization she had nothing to lose compensated for her worries that she had yet to prove herself, and she returned every smile brightly as she explored the encampment.

She equipped herself with shortsword and dagger as Duncan had recommended her, not unlike the weapons she had noticed he wielded himself. Naturally she kept her family sword, together with her leather cuirass. Despite how there were few women among the troops, which were more than she had expected, the armorer had nothing suitable to don her for battle.

Confident despite her few possessions she started the only task that had befallen on her before the battle; find the Warden named Alistair who would guide her and the other recruits through what they called the Joining.

She found him quarreling with a mage in a far corner of the encampment. Alistair seemed bulky in his splint mail compared to the man clad in robes; an odd sight as the mage seemed little impressed, if not agitated by the Warden's words. He just trotted off as Alistair noticed her, throwing her a charming grin.

"You know, one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together." Elissa appreciated humor in a situation so dire, and responded heartily. "I know exactly what you mean."

Immediately intrigued by his lightheartedness she asked him everything she wanted to know about the Grey Wardens. Although she appreciated the quiet with Duncan during their travel, the worst of her mourning was behind her and it was nice to find a companion chatting and joking away like Alistair.

Though impressive by physique and talented with sword and shield she considered him a joker at first, a mere knight moreover than part of a legendary order of warriors, a man yet to earn his scars and sigil. Yet when he accompanied the new recruits into the Kocari wilds his confident demeanor betrayed him.

"There are darkspawn about, but we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde."

Although his voice betrayed a hint of mockery at Ser Jory's worries, it also hinted of a hidden sense of pride in the knowledge.

"How do you know?" The latter replied jittery. "I'm not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back."

Elissa turned her back at them to scout the horizon, unwilling to show the knight her lack of patience. With a pang of guilt she eventually realized she had nothing to lose after Highever burned, and Ser Jory had told her previously his wife was with child. For the first time she recognized the recklessness in her behavior, rather than mere complacency.

"We'll just fight our way through any trouble," She muttered nonetheless, but in a vain attempt to reassure him.

"I still do not relish the thought of encountering an army."

Alistair reached for Ser Jory's shoulder, who jumped on the friendly touch. Alistair seemed to hold more patience than Elissa did; when she eyed him curiously, she even thought to taste a hint of sadness in his gaze.

"Know this; all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee they won't take us by surprise."

It took him a few strides to regain the lead of their small party.

"That's why I'm here."

After their quest in the Kocari Wilds to collect vials of darkspawn blood, Duncan stated the ritual would be prepared in the old temple. Daveth and Ser Jory reluctantly made their way towards the outskirts of the ruins. Elissa walked next to Alistair, probing him for his usual lighthearted banter,

but he remained unusually silent.

"You are oddly quiet all of a sudden, darkspawn tired you out?"

Alistair smiled absently. "Not with you stabbing their backs before I could have a good swing at them, no not tired."

The grin he had forced around his lips faded immediately, as did Elissa's smile.

"Say, you already finished this ritual haven't you, why the sad face? It's not like that stuff's going to kill us, right?"

Alistair only met her eyes briefly before he increased his pace towards Duncan, who's overpowering presence made the atmosphere possibly more grave. Feeling flustered, she approached the other recruits. She found little solace in them as their squabble still continued; Daveth still nonchalant in his bravery, Jory overpowered by fear.

Duncan walked up to them, holding the joining chalice filled with a dark liquid in both hands. It required little imagination to realize what was in there, wafting a putrid stench at them as the Warden swirled it in the cup to prevent it from clotting. His posture gave him a majestic grandeur, and once again Elissa barely recognized the travelling companion that advised her and guided her in times of need.

"… this is the source of our power, and our victory."

Distracted by the impending feeling of danger, Elissa had not heard him speak. When Alistair took word, she eyed him questionably.

"Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint," He spoke, avoiding Elissa's eyes as they tried to meet him for clarity, any sign of reassurance. Yet he briefly bit the inside of his cheeks before he continued, averting his gaze at the distance behind her.

"We can sense it in the darkspawn, use it to slay the archdemon."

"Alistair, if you will?"

She recognized a hint of compassionate hurry in Duncan's voice as he observed Ser Jory shuffle his feet more and more nervously. Alistair nodded curtly, averting his eyes the moment Elissa managed to capture them.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

As realization daunted on her, Elissa stared at the ground.

"And that one day, we will join you."

Duncan swirled the contents of the chalice once more before he handed the cup to Daveth.

A fearless rogue he had stepped forward, and he hesitated not before he drank the tainted liquid. Seconds later he collapsed to the ground, his gaze only showing the white of his eyes, screaming and writhing in pain.

"Maker's breath," Jory exclaimed, staggering backwards as the truth daunted upon him. Elissa dropped to her knees and reached forwards, trying to help the man that seemed to be choking. Yet his rigid body turned lifeless in her palms, dropping to the ground as the darkspawn blood trickled from his lips.

"I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan worded grievingly.

The next minute passed in a haze. While Elissa could barely grasp the fact that her fellow recruit lay dead on the ground, Ser Jory got run through by Duncan's sword. The blade taught him that escape was not an option; it was submitting yourself to the taint, or die without ever risking the chance.

Familiar with death, familiar with loss, and willing to succumb to a new duty, Elissa got up and stepped forward. Tears pearled in her eyes but she felt brave, braver than she had ever felt.

She remembered her father's last wish. She looked up at Duncan while he spoke, praying that his trust would not go in vain.

"You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint. For the greater good."

He nodded at her as he presented her the chalice. Alistair stood to her left, but as she recognized the terror in his eyes she looked once again at Duncan. She had to be brave. She prayed she would be brave.

As Elissa took the cup she drank from it deeply, as if to embrace the faith that had been presented to her.

Immediately a coldness engulfed her, polluting her flesh and blood with dark tendrils that ravished through her body. She was brave but her knees were not, and she sagged to the floor as she clutched her hands at her heart. Before her vision failed on her, she met eyes with Alistair. His worried face was the last thing she saw before the world turned black.

Nothing to lose. For the greater good.


	5. Survival of the fittest

**.5 Survival of the fittest**

From the second her knees had buckled Alistair had reached forward, clumsily but not idly softening her blow to the ground. Her face had been stricken with pain, but after her writhing her body went limp and her eyes had closed.

She had gifted him with what might have been her last gaze at the world.

It took more time than he could remember to regain his wits, but when he did he felt he needed to speak. "Not her too," He heard himself mutter, and after he did he cursed himself for sounding so dramatic. Yet the lump in his throat told the truth of it.

Duncan had hovered close by, and after a quick examination of her body he stood up to collect the chalice that had dropped to the floor and rolled into the clearing. "She is alive," Were his only words.

"She is?"

Alistair didn't dare to feel relieved just yet as he gently shook the body in his arms. Her head lolled passively from side to side, and he cursed himself for what he considered lack of courtesy.

"Alive, and now a Grey Warden. But after dealing with her recent losses she might lack the strength to resist the taint completely."

He once again bowed over her lifeless body, lifting her eyelids one by one. The sight of the white of her eyes provided Alistair a similar lack of assurance as Duncan's words.

"She needs rest. And she will need our prayers. Daybreak will tell whether the blight has taken another life."

Alistair looked down at the girl, not yet a woman, he held in his arms. Her cheeks revealed a small scarlet blush, unmistakably an upcoming fever.

"Should I bring her to the infirmary?"

"I'd rather have you bring her to our encampment to prevent raising questions. Supervision and bed rest are the only things we can offer her now."

Alistair lifted the limp body higher in his grasp, careful to make sure her head rested against his chest this time. For a moment unsure whether he was tasked with the care of the girl he looked back at Duncan, who nodded curtly.

Slowly Alistair walked towards the Warden encampment, hidden by the advancing night. They were only spotted by Elissa's Mabari hound. This was the first reassurance he got; according to the stories, a Mabari hound would tear out your throat instead of yelp uncomfortably. The hound followed them to his tent as he lacked better options, and lay his head on his paws as he receded in his guarding stance.

Inside, Alistair quickly swept his belongings from the field bed with one arm. After he laid her down he tried to make sure she was comfortable, first folding her hands over her stomach but laying them at her sides after he observed it would make her look deceased rather than living. He then took a step back, allowing the unconscious recruit some space, and himself some time to think.

He had never experienced female company before, let alone someone who depended on his care. Yet he had little experience at tending the sick and the wounded, during his upbringing in the Chantry and his brief time with the Grey Wardens. If a fever was setting in, it had to be tended to.

He took a deep breath as he kneeled at the ground next to the field bed, and lightly brushed his fingertips across her cheek. Her body must have been engulfed by the effects of the darkspawn blood still; her skin was seething, leaving his fingers moist to the touch. She would have looked merely sick if the templar wouldn't have recognized the hum of the taint within her; not steady like his fellow Wardens or that of the horde itself, but burning fiercely and spitting at his senses like a threatened snake.

Alistair reached for his water bottle and the linen he used as a towel, creating a wet cloth to dab her face. Carefully looking at her to pick up any signs of change or discomfort, he continued his task for hours to come. Softly following the shape of her face, her small chin and her high cheekbones. Despite being more worried than he could remember, he couldn't help but appreciate the beauty that smoldered under the fever that boiled her up. With a pang of guilt he withdrew his hand, only to remember to tuck his feelings away and focus at the task at hand.

As the morning light seemed days away and he once mistook the sky's rumbling for that of the Mabari hound, her breathing became shallow and uneven. Her eyes remained closed the whole time, but eventually her lips parted slightly, spelling out words Alistair could not make out. He shushed her with a whisper once, and stopped until he remembered he might sound folly, only to forget his inhibitions and whisper at her again.

Elissa's forehead shone a sickly hue of green and her hair dropped in rattails on the pillow, but the incoherence of her words kept flowing from her lips. Alistair held his breath and moved his ear close to her mouth. It regretted him her lisps remained incoherent, now and then accompanied by a gasp of pain or the tensioning of her jaws. The fever wasn't decreasing. He had to do something.

Almost unable to believe what he was about to do, Alistair stood up and sighed uncomfortably.

He first kneeled down at her feet to take off her boots. It was almost comical that he had to tug so hard at her feet her body had moved over the narrow field bed, and although in any other situation he would have joked about it, now he could not. He wrung the wet cloth over her legs in an attempt to sufficiently cool her down, but it didn't take him long to realize it was in vain.

With another sigh, and ridden with more despair than excitement, he advanced to fondling the buckles of her mud-stained leather cuirass.

Being unfamiliar with a woman's garments he was happy to discover it clasped with straps around her sides, and he had to left her gently to remove the remainder of the boiled leather armor from under her back. Despite the reassurance of being alone, he had to muster the courage to steal a look at the flat of her stomach, followed by the soft mounts of her breast under the now damp undergarments before he covered her with his travelling blanket.

He felt the shame for his measures only rectified once Elissa's breathing had started to grow deeper. Also her fervent wordless whispers silenced over time, and eventually her eyelashes started to flutter like she were merely dreaming. He wished her pleasant ones by brushing her eyelids with the palm of his hand; he knew dreams of demons and pitch black halls beneath the earth would become part of her as much as it had become a part of him.

Feeling encouraged after realizing this girl would be no mere stranger but one of his kin as soon as she would wake up, he carefully rested his head on her chest. When he convinced himself her heartbeat sounded healthy and even, he finally felt his own exhaustion get the better of him. He quietly struggled to get back on his feet and opened his tent, welcoming the impending morning light as a welcome visitor. The Mabari at his feet looked up questionably, and as Alistair opened the canvas to provide him entry he watched him approach Elissa and sniff her face briefly. He then walked around in a small circle like only dogs could, and lay next to her cot with his eyes closed.

Alistair closed the tent behind them, and joined Duncan at his watch next to the dying bonfire. The latter had watched him approach, but averted his eyes back to the purple horizon in the distance. The templar stretched his senses back from where he came, and found reassurance in the now familiar drum of the taint in Elissa's living presence. He could not remember a more beautiful break of morning.

"She is alright," He stated with what he detected was a little smugness in his voice, "I think she is alright."

Duncan did not avert his eyes, but nodded as Alistair sat next to him at one of the logs around the fire that had provided seating for him and his fellow Wardens.

"Good."

The mutual silence Alistair shared with Duncan relieved him of his worries. No briefing was required, nor intended. He appreciated his Warden Commander's loose yet loyal regime all the better that morning in the ruins of Ostagar, as Alistair realized his embarrassment would be his own; no matter how beneficial it might turn out for the newest Grey Warden amongst their ranks. They watched the sun come up in unspoken relief; night was fading into day, bringing new hope: Today the taint would give life, instead of take it away.

Finally Duncan spoke. "The girl has suffered a great ordeal, Alistair."

Alistair had to shake his head briefly to remind himself he was in the here and now, instead of asleep and engulfed in a pleasant dream. He nodded, but Duncan didn't seem satisfied with his answer.

"A rose that manages to grow on rotten soil will bloom more magnificently than all others."

He remained quiet again for a moment, continuing; "Needless to say, she will be requiring your continuing support."

Alistair raised an eyebrow, falling back at his usual jesting.

"You're not planning on dying on me in the upcoming battle, are you old man?"

Duncan remained silent for a while, feigning a grumpiness as he often did when Alistair joked about his age. "If not tomorrow, probably in the next." He met the templar eye to eye before he continued.

"Truth be told, my battles are running out."

Alistair sighed deeply and fell back into their previous silence. The severity of the words that were trusted upon him started to sink in, and eventually he nodded in agreement. Duncan bowed his head briefly before he spoke again.

"I take it you will require another bed?"

"Yes Please. Unless you would like me to go and ask her to scoot over. If our newest Warden deserves my undying support, she might as well return the favor."

Alistair received one of Duncan's rare smiles.

"Big words from a young man raised by the chantry."

Alistair savored the moment they shared during the impending morning, and answered the truth.

"Duncan, you never cease to see right through me."

"Take my bed. I have business with Cailan." Duncan stood up, leaving Alistair to his well deserved sleep.

"Maker watch over you," Alistair spoke compassionately. The Warden Commander nodded politely before he walked off.

"Maker watch over us all."


	6. Finding Little

**.6 Finding little**

The wind whipped at the canvas of the tent she had raised dangerously close to the fire, in a final attempt to steal it's warmth. It waved ominously at the flames, like a blood-red banner in the maiden white of the clearing. Snow had covered the lower regions of the wilds, and the temperatures had not been warm enough to make the cold in both the wetlands and their bones disappear.

Elissa, too tired to do another attempt to properly fasten the cords to the pegs she had tried to hammer into the frozen ground, simply gave up. She got to her knees and yanked the remainder of her construction loose before she ducked next to the fallen log they had sat on earlier during their sparse supper. After covering herself with the limp canvas she curled up and appreciated the heat that radiated from the embers, close to the ground but out of the wind.

Scarcely packed as they were, provisioned only with what they had carried into battle and what was given to them by the witch of the wilds, they had ceased to predict the early frost. Their travelling blankets had proved insufficient to gift them an infant's sleep, and when Morrigan had proposed to use their scarce finances to purchase thick furs in the town of Lothering on the morrow, Elissa did not object. It seemed like the snow fell from the sky that early autumn with the sole purpose to cover up the land's hardships, though it had ceased to hide to bloody remains of Ostagar, of both man and darkspawn alike.

After they once more returned from the battlefield, now not in a duo but in a party of three, Elissa concluded the drum she felt in her blood agitated her rather than it provided her a sense of knowledge and vigilance.

She had learned the hard way that submitting to the taint during the Joining ritual was merely a way to be one step ahead of the bulk of the horde. The throbbing in her veins made it possible to sense them before entering combat, and Duncan had told her after waking from her sickbed that she would eventually be able to count their numbers and sense their powers as well.

The remainder of the night had allowed her mere experiments with her newfound senses; she found herself able to feel her kin around her, two close to the cot she had found herself in, several at the bonfire at the King's encampment, and many more scattered around Ostagar. Their essence had seemed to tug at her from all sides, but not at all unpleasantly. Elissa had felt she belonged amongst them, just as they belonged to one another. A feeling of unmet familiarity, an unspoken truce that would exist until death would breach their bond.

She had gazed upon the world with a smile as she had scrambled to sit up and praised Duncan for the truth in his words: She would find camaraderie with her fellow Wardens in a way that took neither time nor effort. Elissa felt their kinship in her being, and was willing to spill her blood for the sense of belonging she had sought for after all had been lost. She had survived the betrayal of Highever citadel as well as the taint, and was now a Grey Warden to the depths of her being.

It was not until she had fought a fierce battle to light the beacon at the northern watchtower that she realized her blood was treacherous. First merely sensing the presence of the young templar in her party, she soon found it responded similarly to the darkspawn. When she came face to face with the vile creatures she realized it was their blood they shared, and not that of the valiant people she had only come to briefly meet before they were sent on their, what had seemed a trivial mission.

It had taken her more than a moment to overcome her nausea, clutching at the rugged stone of the tower as she bent over and fought against her retching. As she had observed Alistair hack at the darkspawn her blood told her a dubious tale, as she realized the taint she tasted in him was in fact the poison that lived in the horde. The sense of them crawling through the tower and under her feet gave her a false sense of belonging, one that had confused her nearly blind.

She should have realized it when she had drank their blood. Then why did it the outcome startle her so much?

Truth only dawned when her kin approached her, expertly sliding his longsword at the rim of his shield to wipe it clean with a worried look on his face. There was a small difference in his blood she sensed, but so slight her eyes must have betrayed her dread. Alistair had asked whether she was alright, looking to touch her but ceasing to do so when he noticed his fingers were stained in battle.

Would her blood now be as black as theirs?

Time had favored her too little to think it over, as the next group had stormed down the narrow stairs of the tower. The furious pounding through her veins had only softened to a steady, distant drum as she awoke in a foreign cabin, saved from being overrun by the horde by what would have seemed a dragon's claws.

The three of them had searched the rubble of Ostagar for survivors, but found none but darkspawn. The bodies of their army were maimed beyond recognition, or in the King Cailan's case shown in a crude display of victory. They had found him tied to one of the statues on the main crossing, relieved from both his royal armor and his interns.

If the two Wardens had not noticed the bridge between them and their new companion when they noticed her resistance to return with them to the battlefield, they would have when Morrigan scorned them for raising a pyre for their late liege. As the Wardens watched the King's bones turn to dust the witch had departed dismally, trusting them to follow her as the wilds were her turf.

That day wouldn't be the last on which Elissa wondered if she regretted Morrigan's presence. Yet she had proven a useful guide, and her healing magic and poultices were what readied them for another day's march.

Despite Elissa's amiable attempts to show her gratitude, Morrigan wanted to know little of it. Like every night, she had retreated to a spot a good distance away to set up a camp of her own.

Alistair, like every night so far, had not ceased to mutter judgmentally at her daily dismissal.

Unfortunately, that was about all Elissa heard from him after they had retrieved Duncan's weapons. She often saw him oil the sword at night but at times he seemed to revere the steel so much she wondered if he would be willing to raise it against a foe rather than cherish it as an heirloom.

Attempts to engage him into conversation were in vain, and turning to him for advice on their mission proved impossible. After she had retreated from Flemmeth's hut in bandages, scarred but unharmed, the templar's face had betrayed an intense relief. But before the night had come it was overshadowed by an overpowering sadness that had darkened his face ever since.

Elissa knew little about being a Warden, but in the days that followed she was appointed the leader of their remains in Ferelden. Alistair's continued silence was the cause of her unwanted promotion. Besides his footsteps, the hum of his presence in her blood was the only thing that assured her that he was among them still. With Morrigan's dismissive nature and the templar's continued silence, Elissa felt as lonely as she had before.

She was never one to follow, but lesser so, one to lead. When she carefully phrased her questions for advice Alistair would stammer, sigh, and eventually fall back into his wordless despair. It had made her impatient at first, but when she realized the distance he created was probably a product of his mourning, she silently accepted the command. It was a circumstance she understood all too well.

However, Elissa didn't allow herself similar grief. With the responsibility that weighed on her shoulders she had time to think of little else but the task ahead. The decease of her family and her newfound kin lingered in her body like a cold she wasn't willing to acknowledge; afraid it would knock her out as soon as she'd give in. Therefore she had threaded on to exhaustion, too tired to even put up her tent properly.

Yet with Alistair nowhere to be seen and the comfort of the log against her back, she allowed herself a moment of weakness.

Too tired to sob she let her tears run freely across her cheeks, a relief she embraced in silence. She did not feel sorry for herself, nor did she feel despair; she simply reveled in the opportunity to provide her body the consolation it had yearned for.

She must have made quite a sight, huddled inside her belongings next to the embers of the fire. Alarming enough to even shake her fellow Warden from his solitude.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he gently touched her shoulder.

Elissa opened her eyes slowly and managed little more than a nod, which must have looked less reassuring than she thought it did.

"You were crying," Alistair then stated, his voice sounding an unspoken apology. The misery that had filled his eyes as of late had made place for the same worry Elissa had recognized when she had left the hut in the wilds, bandaged but unbroken. Feeling duty more than the urge to make a strong display, she sat up and rested her back against the log.

"Only a little," She spoke with an attempt at humor as she dabbed her face with her fingertips.

Elissa smiled with what felt as her last strength. She didn't mind the templar seeing her like this, but she wasn't sure if she would be able to bear his sudden compassion. She shook her head before she added it was probably the smoke.

She recognized the doubt in his eyes Elissa had seen the first time they had fought side to side as Wardens. This time, her physique must have betrayed the truth as well.

Having known Alistair as amiable and an easy conversationalist, however briefly before the battle, she wondered where that man had gone now that the familiarity was in their blood rather than in their time together. With a pat of her hand she gestured him to sit next to her, and after some hesitation, he did. He kept a polite distance, preventing their bodies to touch at the small space provided to them, but Elissa took comfort in the presence of his blood. She wondered if he did as well.

"Do you want to talk about Duncan?" She asked in a successful attempt to stretch her attention. To her surprise, Alistair shook his head.

"Morrigan then?"

When she finally saw the smile return to his lips it warmed her heart.

"In fact I want to talk about you," He spoke grinningly, but as one with a guilty conscience.

"What about?" Elissa spoke as she wondered what he would say. Had he regained his wits, and would he critique her on her leadership? Or would he even claim it from her now he had time to mourn his losses? Elissa found herself feeling remorseful as she realized she would like nothing better, there and then.

"I feel so stupid for having bothered you with my problems. With my silence, moreover."

Her questionable look must have urged him on.

"I am not the only one who endured loss. Out brief time at Ostagar had not provided a suitable moment to bring it up, but let's face it; you have lost many more than just your fellow Order. Your home. Your family."

As Elissa noticed the man next to her struggle for words, she reached for his arm to make him halt.

"I would rather not talk about it, not now." She spoke with a genuine gratefulness in her tone. Elissa smiled and swallowed a new flow of tears away, hugging her knees close to her body under the fabrics that covered her.

Alistair mimicked her position, and as their arms touched Elissa offered him a place under her covers. As the templar hesitated she choked back a daring remark that would have come natural to her, one that tasted sour on her lips under the given circumstances. "It's too cold," Proved sufficient, and not to be disagreed upon.

It didn't take long for both of them to find ease in each other's company. As Elissa had first shivered next to the fire, now she felt a comfortable warmth. They remained side to side but as she finally felt relaxation wash over her, she allowed her pulled up knees to rest against his. If it bothered him, he did not tell.

Their presence was just as comfortable as the silence that had entered the snowy clearing, the familiar tinge in their blood healing once more. Breaking the fast of their words eventually proved more difficult than keeping it.

"I feel a lot better today," Alistair admitted genuinely. "I even told Morrigan a joke or two, but needless to say she was a terrible audience."

Elissa slowly lifted her chin from her knees, eyeing his newfound mood with interest.

"I didn't notice."

"That's because my words drowned in her japing cackles, you couldn't have missed it."

Elissa wasn't too tired to recognize the lighthearted joking she had appreciated from the templar at first meet, and cocked an eyebrow. Alistair met her eyes, only to shyly turn them back to the small fire at their feet. His gaze revealed the grin on his lips, covered by the canvas he had pulled up. Elissa smiled, appreciating his successful attempt to reassure her as much as his presence.

As it started to colder the sky cleared up and the moon shone an eerie silver light upon the clearing. It revealed the whereabouts of where they had decided to stop for the night; a sullen strip of land in the outstretched swamps of the wilds, the only ground solid enough to foster a couple of weeping willows. Their long branches were covered in snow, looking like small white waterfalls from a source in their stems. At a distance to their right Morrigan's fire shone bright, but the witch was nowhere to be seen. It was easy to bar her presence all together, simply by averting their heads.

"I wish he was here," Elissa heard herself whisper. "Duncan."

Alistair swallowed audibly and nodded.

"I understood he saved you."

He stopped talking, carefully avoiding the subject of the night that castle Cousland was attacked.

"He did." Elissa spoke softly. "He saved me, and presented me with a whole new life, a purpose."

She looked sideways at Alistair, allowing him a look at the heart of her words. "I was in an awful state, didn't know right from left or right from wrong. Yet he guided me, and comforted me, made me feel whole again. I owe him much."

As she recognized the love for her savior in her words and how they could have been interpreted by the young man beside her, she hastily added: "He was a leader, a Warden Commander. I am not. I barely know anything about the Grey, let alone how to guide us on this seemingly impossible task."

Before she could remind herself to swallow back her words, she confessed.

"I wish I didn't have to do this alone."

She regretted having spoken her concerns immediately, afraid that it would anger her companion, or shun him away. Yet Alistair contemplated her words in silence.

"You're not alone in this." He eventually spoke. "I am sorry, truly sorry I have made you feel otherwise."

Elissa almost blushed at the heartfelt words her fellow Warden spoke. She averted her face in an unfamiliar moment of embarrassment, and stammered that no harm was done.

"I'm just not the leader type," He added in what she recognized as his usual humorous tone, and as she met his eyes she couldn't help but join him in a welcome salvo of laughter. If Morrigan had heard him she had not bothered to take offense, and if she would they would have probably ignored her. When they eventually regained their breath, Elissa scarcely remembered a time she felt more relieved and lighthearted.

"Well, the troops have already acknowledged you as their leader," Alistair spoke with a final snort, "But I would be willing to play the role of your right hand and personal advisor. If you would have me, of course."

Elissa eyed him with interest, once more wrapping her arms around her legs and resuming her stare into the small fire in front of them.

"Don't mind if I do."

The next morning, Elissa found herself waking at ease, despite the unfamiliar body beside her. The heartbeat under her ear was comforting, as was the steady hum of the blood in his veins. When she groggily looked up at Alistair's sleeping face and fully appreciated the position she had found herself in, she slowly sat up and freed herself from the tangle of blankets.

Careful not to wake him, she stole a last look from him before she got up and tended the remains of the fire.

The warmth of his comfort seeped away as she met the cold morning air, and her body regretted it. Yet her mind was too occupied and filled with grief to want to advance their affiliation further than she deemed it sensible. As much as she would have liked to feel him stir beside her and look upon her with the shy gaze, she deemed it smarter not to show him how much she enjoyed it. She dropped the smile from her lips and found herself feeling slightly guilty, despite how they had spent the night in silence, or exchanging a mere few words.

A blight was not the time to find physical comfort in a strong pair of arms, no matter the witty charm and physical attraction that came in their company.

Yet she did decide there and then she would try and be the best companion to him she could be: In piece vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.


	7. Advancing to Redcliffe

**.7 Advancing to Redcliffe**

Since the night they had spent in a comforting wake, the Wardens felt cleared of most doubt and hardships. Being at peace with both their duty and destiny they anticipated and where possible avoided bumps in the path they had to walk, and with success.

Elissa proved more a spokesperson than a leader, whereas Alistair made use of his soldiered knowledge for strategic matters like the defense of their camp and the roads they would travel. Their choices were just and were decided on without discussion, a seamless cooperation that benefitted their goals and the credibility in the eyes of those who had joined them.

Morrigan would voice her opposing opinions at every given moment at first, but started to retreat in an obedient silence after the Wardens had met their unspoken agreement. This was strengthened as the party had grown after Leliana had joined them in Lothering; a Chantry sister with hands that seemed more accustomed to blades than pray. Speculative though her traits might have seemed she was a welcome companion, one that voiced her support for the Wardens more often than the witch did.

Conspicuous though Alistair might have found the sister at first, it only took Elissa a few conversations to unravel the secrets of Leliana's past. As he observed the two women together he appreciated the charm in Elissa's ways, yet the cunning and wit that earned her the respect her leadership would require. She was able to win the hearts of those she met on the road with the same ease as she did her companions; with playful humor, genuine interest and a listening ear. Her wide view on the world and her experience among peasants and nobility alike allowed her to anticipate at those around her with ease and respect.

Even Morrigan seemed to melt for her genuine efforts at first, but only until Elissa retreated to the fire at their camp in a sullen silence. Alistair saw the witch disappear into her tent in the distance, but the frustration on Elissa's face betrayed that their conversation had not ended well. Leliana picked up on her mood as seamlessly as Alistair did, and provided her with a loving embrace and a cup of watered wine.

As he smiled down at the Elissa who then sat cross-legged by the fire he felt envious towards the Orlesian bard; he knew he could never match the feminine ease she made use of, but he suspected her as drawn to the attraction of Elissa Cousland as he were. Everyone received the same loving and dedicated treatment and he thought it folly to think he was the only one moved by it in heartfelt appreciation. Also, he felt the bard's smile was a little too bright at times.

_Or am I fooling myself?_

He himself had acted shy around his fellow Warden after the night they had waked at the fire. Their conversation had been easy, and although little was spoken, none of them had felt the need to hold back. She had fallen asleep next to him, and eventually he had found himself awake as she had moved against his chest. He had blurted out an unwanted joke at first, but not even his nervous muttering had woken her.

He soon felt himself grateful that she had not; despite how his neck had reddened at the thoughts that had entered his mind, he was happy to enjoy her company as soon as he had been able to subdue them as his templar training had taught him. He remembered appreciating, soon cherishing the feeling of her body against his. _If this is what a woman's touch feels like, why do men need anything else?_

The thought made him feel fortunate, and somehow oddly complete. Yet it made him feel foolish as well. This wasn't the woman's touch his fellow Wardens had boasted about, nor what the templars at the Chantry had cursed for being treacherous, or at least unnecessary. After consolidating the different views he had never been able to make his own, he felt guilty. Instead of her touch she focused on the voice in her blood, one he shared with his kin, just and true.

Finally, he himself must have been taken by sleep. Elissa's lack of mention after he had awoken alone had worried him at first, but later he wondered whether it wouldn't be lady-like of her to do so. Once again he realized he had no way of knowing, and felt useless in communicating to her, not from Warden to Warden but as man to woman. Yet one radiant smile would wash his troubles away, and filled him with joy and relief which cleared any wisp of anticipation.

Alistair had been surprised to find her as approachable as she was from the moment they met. Elissa had been introduced to him as the second heir to Highever, a title that had been no stranger to him. During his upbringing at Redcliffe the Cousland family had been mentioned more than occasionally for the stature they enjoyed. He even remembered being placed under the care of the kennel master after a delegation from Highever had arrived at the castle. The little luxury he had come to enjoy had no place in the eyes of men who could grow suspicious of the Arl's care for a mere bastard boy, so he had remained out of sight.

Although he must have been no older than six or seven at the time, remembering whether a young girl was in the Cousland party had occupied most of his thoughts. Yet soon they were overshadowed by what had followed after their retreat; Arlessa Isolde had taken a liking of his absence and had insisted he would be sent to the Chantry instead of remain at Redcliffe to raise questions. His uncle Eamon's agreement had cast a breach in their relationship, one he had to mend once they would reach the village of Redcliffe on the morrow.

They had reached the outskirts of the lake before dawn, but he had insisted on setting up camp rather than to continue their march to find a suitable inn at the foot of the looming castle where he had spent little of his youth. He needed time to think. Elissa seemed to have guessed as much, because she had made no objections, even despite her insisting talk of having a bath before conversing with the arl.

Leliana seemed to be able to make use of that opportunity as well: "I will wash your hair if you would like, Elissa. The water in lake Calenhad shouldn't be too cold at this time of year."

Elissa gratefully accepted. _Of course. No cat is slyer than those who sing in the alleys of Orlais. _Alistair reminded himself ruefully. As he heard the bard speak animatedly about the lavish oils she used to procure in Val Royeaux, he observed his kin with a wan smile. Yet he recognized Elissa's social gaze as one betraying none more than friendship; one he felt lucky to receive so often himself.

If only he possessed some of Elissa's skills as a conversationalist, he would be able to toss the story at her with ease_. 'Say, I mentioned my mother was a serving girl, did I not? Well the whole truth is that King Maric was my father. Alistair Theirin, that's who I am, although I prefer to be treated like an insignificant bastard. It makes things easier, you would understand.'_

He shook his head as the words tolled through his mind. As he regained his wits, Alistair

observed Leliana as she bent her head towards Elissa's, and pecked her cheek before she stood up and offered her a hand. He couldn't repress the slightest frown as Elissa accepted it and was pulled up playfully from her crouch.

'_It was my half-brother we burned at the ruins of Ostagar, but it did me little. I rarely met him, and not since I was half my size. What bothers me most is that his decease means my heritage would matter again, more than it did when I was a boy at the Chantry, more than it did when I was a templar in training. Not good old, jolly Alistair. Alistair Theirin'._

His face must have darkened as his gaze followed them, because Leliana had stopped in her footsteps before guiding Elissa to the shore of the lake. She turned around in wonder, as the bard spoke sweetly:

"Is something the matter, Alistair?"

When Elissa eyed him curiously he felt his face relax from a deep frown.

"Why, no, of course not!" He responded quickly, concealing the secret he wanted to hold 'till morning with a few stammered words.

"Are you sure?" Elissa asked conspicuously, turning towards him for a full inspection. Leliana pulled her hand and finished the matter with a well aimed jape.

"I think Alistair would like to join us and help us wash up!"

The salvo of giggles that followed left Alistair blushing, muttering denials. "No, I was just wondering…"

"Wondering doesn't hurt," Leliana added with a roguish smile, before he pulled Elissa towards the path that led down to the water, oblivious to the suggestive remark that had played in her midst. Nonetheless, Alistair scratched the back of his head and found himself amused.

_If only silence would not either._


	8. Need for recovery

**.8 Need for recovery**

The last couple of days had proven themselves tiring, and an unpleasant indication for the hardships to come collecting an army with the help of the treaties. After defeating the demon possessing young Connor with the help of the circle of Magi, Alistair and Elissa found themselves awake and without rest for nearly two days in a row.

Although Morrigan helped them to ward off the whights in Redcliffe, Leliana assisted during their successful attempt to recover the Mages tower with their new companion. The bard had looked tired but offered to travel back to their camp so Wynne could get acquainted with the rest of the party, and to offer the Wardens their time to negotiate their next steps at the castle.

As arl Eamon remained on his sickbed, Taegan took over his duties as a host and offered them a place to rest within the castle walls. Although Elissa had made a genuine attempt to read Alistair's face about residing at his former home he had seemed too tired to object, much to the bann's pleasure and satisfaction. The guest quarters were made ready during a humble meal and for the first time in weeks the Wardens found themselves waking up in a bed, instead of on the forest floor surrounded by their party.

To Elissa it was an unnerving experience. Once again she mistook herself for being at her elderly home in Highever, waking up disillusioned and scared. Alistair had ceased to meet a better faith; he woke up with the familiar smells and sounds of the castle he was never allowed to call his home. Being welcomed a hero after experiencing a childhood of feeling left out proved to have quite the opposite result.

He felt the sudden urge to haul on his armor and leave the same second, but he only found a set of common clothes on the bench next to the bed where his metal cuirass used to be. He reluctantly threw them on, swung the remainder of his belongings in a knapsack over his shoulder and made his way to the village he felt would bring him more pleasant memories.

To his surprise the day didn't reveal morning, but almost sundown. The fresh air cleared his head immediately and as soon as he walked out of the castle gates he felt more at ease, more like himself. He slowed down his steps and tried to enjoy the familiarity of his surroundings, the sunset coloring the lake in a warm hue, the smell of cooking fires travelling the wind. This reminded him about what he considered home more than anything else he had experienced at Redcliffe castle.

The mill formed an admirable silhouette against the brightness of the lake and it didn't take long until Alistair was able to recognize another dark form against the fading light. When he curiously approached the cliffs he recognized Elissa, practicing her skills with the longbow.

He noticed he wasn't the only one who found himself without his armor; she was wearing a long silk dress that lost it's form when she tied the long ends between her legs to her belt, allowing herself to move more freely. Although the sight amused him Alistair couldn't help but feel he was put in his place again; the clothes that were provided to him were made of a simple linen.

Alistair, aware of the fact Elissa was rather skillful with a bow, was amazed by the speed she managed to fire arrow after arrow at the target without any misses. When she finally retrieved them in a fluent run she even managed to fire off a couple of shots on the move before picking up the longsword impaled to the ground nearby, almost hewing the wooden bullseye in half in an unexpected act of rage.

When she proved to have trouble yanking the sword out of her target Alistair approached casually. "Need any help with that?"

Elissa turned around in a flash, wearily looking at him. "Yes, of course, it's yours after all." She stammered in snide surprise. She trotted off towards the defenses of the mill and sat down with her legs crossed. Alistair followed her moody steps with a surprised frown and turned around to look at the sword. It was Cailan's, the blade formerly owned by King Maric, the one they retrieved together with his armor during their return to the battlefield.

He sighed and pulled the blade from the wood, swinging it carelessly before laying it down next to Elissa. "And I thought you took the news of my heritage so well."

She sighed and held her head between her hands, making her look more disheveled than he had ever seen her. "I do. I do understand."

Alistair sat down next to her and nudged her playfully.

"Then I hope you weren't pretending to chop my head off back there. And with my half-brother's sword too, what cruel irony!" 

She looked up and her face relaxed a little, a welcome sight. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair." She stammered. "It's just,"

Elissa hesitated for a second, observing the last red fading into a deep purple on the horizon. She had to put her pride aside to speak her feelings. "I can't help but feel a bit insulted when I found out you kept this from me. I felt like I've been open to you, more than to anyone else, in fact."

Before Alistair could object she added: "But I know about being treated simply for my heritage." Her youth was filled with nothing but love and appreciation. But amongst her class she had often been considered too free spirited to be a noble, and too rich in expenses and parentage to be fully accepted among her commoner acquaintances. "I understand."

Alistair tried to hide his toothy smile. She said she had opened up to him, _more than to anyone else_. His heart started to flutter when he realized he finally got a little of the confirmation he's been looking for.

"I still think this is yours though." She spoke softly, picking up the sword by it's hilt, tracing the runes on the blade with her finger. Alistair disagreed and stated he'd rather wield a toothpick than his half-assed half-brother's sword.

"It's of royal make though, fit for a teyrn's daughter. You should use it." 

"And not fit for a prince you'd say?" Elissa added with a sly smile.

He laughed and said: "I thought we agreed you'd only call me your prince during our private moments. Oh wait, we are alone now, and…" He silenced and felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Elissa threw him a smile that warmed his heart and cocked an eyebrow. No nervous cough could break the tension, he felt.

Instead, Alistair quickly opened his bag and collected something he's been saving. He gently picked it up from a handkerchief, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger.

"Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?"

Elissa looked at the rose he gently turned between his fingers, allowing the fading light to show off it's beauty from every angle.

"Your new weapon of choice?" She asked with a wink.

"Yes that's right! Watch as I trash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements!"

Elissa laughed and eyed him with a new interest. "Or, you know, it could just be a rose."

"Sentiment can be a pretty potent weapon," Elissa spoke, a little smile playing around her lips.

"Is it that easy to see right through me?" Alistair noted. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised." He then explained he picked it in Lothering, saving it from the destruction of the horde, keeping it ever since.

"I thought that I might, give it to you actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

"You think of me as a gentle flower?"  
>"A <em>gentle <em>flower? No, I don't think that I'd put it that way." Alistair looked around at the arching target that was almost hewn in half. Elissa giggled.

"I guess it's a bit silly, isn't it. I just thought you haven't exactly been having a good time out of it yourself. You had none of the good experiences of being a Grey Warden since your joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy." Alistair spoke apologetically.

"I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this darkness."

Elissa turned her eyes down at her hands, and then looked up at him affectionately. "I feel the same way about you."

Alistair stared at her for a second, and then coughed nervously. "I'm glad you like it."

When he started to feel his ears glow, he quickly added: "Now, if we could move right on past this embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits I'd appreciate it."

Elissa threw him a sidewards look that made him feel his heart would stop beating, eventually breaking her silence with a roguish smile. "You're so cute when you're bashful."

As if to prevent more awkward moments for her male companion she stood up and offered him her hand. When she pulled him up in a standing position she tiptoed and gave him a gentle kiss on the base of his jaw. She smelled the rose and picked up her bow, twirling it in one hand and hanging it from her shoulder. Alistair tracked her steps with his gaze, unable to speak, let alone move.

"Come on, I'd rather sleep at camp tonight then relive my faded days as nobility. And I bet so would you," She added with a wink of understanding.

Alistair smiled, scratched the back of his head and picked up Maric's blade. "I'm only carrying it for you now, you know that right."

Elissa turned around and smirked. "I'm afraid I do."


	9. Casualties and matters of importance

**.9 Casualties and matters of importance**

After Elissa and Alistair had spent several hours waking at the sickbed of arl Eamon with no avail, they agreed their next step would be to look for the Urn of Sacred Ashes which seemed their last resort for a cure. Even though they had a blight on their hands a civil war was brooding amongst the people, the arl of Redcliffe - being the deceased King's uncle - would be their best option for support in both causes.

After they finally reunited with their party near the cliffs of lake Calenhad they shared their plans and travelled the imperial highway to Denerim, where their last clue for the ancient relic had led them. During their travels Elissa insisted on short side-trackings by doing quests for the Chantry and the Magi collective; although the goal ahead was clear everyone agreed they could use the financial rewards for these seemingly trivial tasks.

They spent it not only on food and on weapons, but also in aiding refugees and sometimes, paying the expenses for a meal or even a bed at a nearby inn when they felt they could risk it. It was a welcome change from camping outdoors and a useful way to get note of the latest rumors concerning Loghain and although Elissa wouldn't admit it, on arl Howe, the man that had betrayed her family. The travelers each enjoyed the change of scenery one way or another and they all felt taking their minds off their seemingly impossible task lightened the mood when they were to be on their way again.

Although Morrigan tended to resist all decisions to enter civilization she never ceased to follow, always amongst those who enjoyed themselves when the quest or the night advanced, in the last case often encouraged by a couple of drinks. Nonetheless, by the time they resumed their travels Elissa couldn't help but feel the witches' piercing eyes at the back of her neck, like she was to blame for their sidestepping.

Although she tried her best to strengthen the ties between everyone in their party, eventually she too had to admit that the shapeshifter wasn't an easy travelling companion. Alistair couldn't help but pass her a couple of "I told you so" remarks, which Elissa shrugged off with light humor. At least she had tried her best to achieve a mutual understanding with Morrigan, despite her unfriendly behavior.

Their efforts on keeping one step ahead of the teyrn's plans didn't prevent them from being ambushed by an assassin sent on his behalf. The elven Antivan Crow proved to be driven by nothing more than gold and on his failing he quickly joined their ranks, swearing allegiance to their cause in return for his life.

Although Alistair never hid his disagreement about this matter either, his unease for having their potential murderer in their midst grew when he proved to be a sly conversationalist with an alleged soft spot for his fellow Warden. Although she didn't respond to his advances the elf soon found himself lucky to receive the same attentive treatment like the rest of their companions, much to Alistair's dismay.

After ending up slightly worried about Leliana's interest in lady Cousland, he grudgingly felt competition from the same sex was just what he needed for winning over Elissa's heart. He suspected their roguish opportunism to be the blame for their increasing advances, like they had set their minds to winning over the heart of who he considered the most prominent figure in their group. He cursed his lack of experience as much as he cursed the abundance in theirs, and the victory it might very well bring them.

Just when he started to suspect Elissa's conversations with the assassin were blossoming into something more, he had noticed her pulling her dagger one night when the elf's voice unexpectedly shook her nearby. It made Alistair smile in relief; maybe her lighthearted flirtations were a tactic of hers after all. Feeling a little jealous nonetheless, he was happy to find her more cautious than she appeared.

Finally he decided to ask her opinion about their companions when their travels advanced. When she walked away from the campfire to put up her tent, he silently followed her through the density of the spruce trees that provided them cover for the night. Again she pulled her dagger from her boot when someone ended up surprising her with his presence. Holding up his palms in surrender, Alistair grinned and lowered the blade with the tip of his finger.

"Don't worry, I'm no assassin, nor a sneaky little elf in that matter." Elissa smiled the sly grin of someone unwilling to admit she had been caught, and lowered her weapon.

"Not a little elf maybe, but sneaky nonetheless. What can I help you with?"

Alistair looked around. Their travels had brought them at the foot of the mountains, providing them little options to set up camp. Because they were close both to the mysterious village of Haven and the imperial road, they had even decided not to build a fire to assure an undisturbed passage. Appareantly Elissa preferred setting up her tent more privately this time, relying on the cover of the dense trees rather than her companions. The low risk of being overheard was what gave Alistair the courage to drop the question that had been on his mind for a while now.

"I'm wondering something," He spoke as he took one final look around. "I want to know your thoughts about some of our travelling companions. Do you mind if I ask?"

Elissa seemed a little surprised, but not disturbed.

"Not at all, go ahead." She answered as she got up from her crouch and saw the templar eye to eye. The dense foliage allowed little light, and her relaxation in his presence reassured him to spill his mind without holding back. He asked her opinion about their party members, and despite his generally friendly opinions he spilled some pointed questions and assumptions.

He even wondered whether she wouldn't confuse his open minded chattering for plain gossip, but in practice this seemed unnecessary. It surprised Alistair how well her thoughts were formed, based on what she had learned during their travels. Elissa openly spoke her opinion about all of their companions, and what seemed to start as a round of gossip seemed to end like a tactical conference.

When the subject reached Leliana the templar for the first time started to doubt whether this meeting was such a good idea. When he pointed out he noticed they had become close, Elissa took no effort to deny it. He quickly proceeded, unwilling to think about exactly how close they've become.

"Zevran… You can't trust him can you? Do you really believe his so called vow?"

"Why, are you jealous?" Elissa asked with a little smirk in the corner of her mouth.

"Maybe." Alistair admitted reluctantly. Whether it was the previous honesty in their conversation or the fact that by now they were cloaked in near darkness what made him admit that, he didn't know.

He heard Elissa snicker softly. Embarrassed, he quickly turned around, stating that it didn't make the question any less relevant.

"No I can't say I trust him, not really," Elissa eventually spoke. Alistair turned around yet avoided her gaze. "What if he tries to kill you again, what if he's just biding his time?"

"Then he'll die." She simply said. Alistair snickered in audible disbelief. Elissa replied to his stubborn silence by crossing her arms. "Oh right, you didn't actually think he'd have a chance?"

"Not if I could help it," Alistair grumbled, eyeing the general direction where the rest of their companions had set up camp.

"I mean a chance at me."

He turned his head towards her in surprise. Elissa sighed, but seemed to have her answer at the ready. "I know the mention of my, experience between the sheets so to speak, has shaken you a little. It has been an amusing pastime during my careless days as a noble maiden and then only with the few that caught more than just my interest, not just any sly old dog like Zevran."

Alistair had never seen her blush before, but judging by her uncomfortable shuffling he imagined she was. All of a sudden, he wished the darkness that had cloaked them in comfort would lift up and disappear.

"I thought before that passion would be a mean of comfort in these dire times." Elissa continued thoughtfully. "But a wise man pointed out it just isn't the way to soothe a preoccupied mind. I took his advice to heart."

Only now she seemed to remember that she was still holding Duncan's dagger in her hand, and quickly put it away down her boot. Alistair needed no explanation to realize that the man who he considered to be his most worthy advisor played a part in this. Good old Duncan.

"But passion could also be a result of love right?" The words had spilled his lips before he was able to swallow them.

"I mean, not that I," Alistair felt so stupid he could hit himself and quickly took her hands in his, meeting her wondered gaze as they came close enough to make out each other's faces.

"I know it might sound strange considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to, care for you, a great deal." He looked down at her hands in his and then up to see if he wasn't crossing a line there, but Elissa didn't look offended; in fact he couldn't place her expression at all. Scared of the possible outcome of this conversation he continued, hoping to find reassurance in her eyes rather than her silence.

"I think it's maybe because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself."

He looked up again and met her eyes. "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you could ever feel the same way about me?"

Elissa looked up to him and her lower lip trembled a little. For a second Alistair thought she was going to kiss him, but instead she lay the side of her head against his armored chest. Torn between relief and disappointment, he hoped the beating of his heart wouldn't be audible to her.

"I don't know Alistair, it's not that I…" He heard her words die away, ended by a muffled sob.

Instead of remaining cautious about the feeling of her vicinity, he dropped all his defenses and hugged her tighter to his chest in a desperate attempt to comfort her.

"I haven't felt like this before," He heard her broken voice whisper, "Especially when more important things should be on my mind."

Alistair couldn't help but escape a smile about her exclamation, while he tried to comfort her in his arms more carefully now. Eventually he heard a sigh escape her lips. "I wasn't looking for the feelings I'm coping with lately. I just don't know Alistair, it's too soon to say."

Overpowered by an urge to console his fellow Warden, Alistair mustered all his courage and stroked her hair. When his hand lingered on her cheek, he tried to meet her eyes, lifting her chin under his bent finger. Although he felt what he was about to do was right, his voice got a little hoarse and his words came out as a whisper.

"Well, is it too soon for this?"

He met her slightly teary eyes, slowly moving his nose to hers. She looked at him in quiet disbelief, yet her lips slightly parted. He felt her breath on his face and he allowed her time to object while he slowly moved his fingertips through her hair, breathing in her sweet scent. Alistair felt her tremble, like she was holding back that what should come natural, as natural as what was driving him. And while his heart started to beat even faster in anticipation he waited for her to give into her feelings, leaving him rejected or hopefully, embracing him, them, together.

When her lips finally met his, Alistair's grip tightened in relief. He finally was able to take her higher into his arms, allowing himself to grasp this mutual affection he had longed for since they first met. He felt her lips move with his in a wild harmony and soon Elissa's breathing fastened she gently relaxed her body in his grip, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, standing on the tips of her toes to drink him in completely.

Alistair almost thought he was going to feint but when they broke apart, his first instinct resembled a longing for more. He eyed her with a careful interest, trying to read her dazzled expression. In quiet relief he noticed that not only his own, but also her breathing was husky. When they finally met in a wondered stare he was a little afraid he might have crossed a line, until Elissa spoke.

"I don't know. I need more testing to be sure."


	10. Understanding

**.10 Understanding **

When they arrived in Denerim the next day, the rest of their company couldn't help but notice a newly lit spark in the camaraderie between the Grey Wardens in their midst. Although everyone was well aware of Alistair throwing meaningful looks at their leader throughout their journey, it came as a surprise to find Elissa stealing similar glances from him, with a seemingly newfound interest.

It became a habit of the Wardens to mingle the duties they had separated from the start. Although Alistair's more vocal opinions about their plans were welcomed, everyone realized a change in his relationship with Elissa must have caused this newfound confidence in himself. The fact they were often found in deep conversations, accompanied by salvos of laughter, confirmed any doubts the companions might have had left. Also, although their blood's alignment didn't provide any room for clumsiness, the thrill they exuded from being in each other's vicinity betrayed them more than anything else.

Nonetheless the Wardens seemed determined to deny their party any explanations to their subtle and less subtle questions and remarks. Only when Leliana cornered Elissa after they had set up camp, the Warden finally decided to spill her suppressed feelings.

Audibly expressing how she had never felt like this before, Elissa's enthusiasm built up as her story advanced. Soon the conversation was dominated by exclamations of puppy love, accompanied by animated gestures and even a bit of giggling. The Warden even seemed to infatuated to notice how Leliana's face grew darker and eventually grimaced to a point of upset.

When the bard finally responded with badly hidden disappointment, Elissa dropped dead in her footsteps to meet her friend eye to eye. But as soon as their conversation came to an end Leliana spun on her heel, leaving Elissa utterly confused.

"Leliana?" She called after the woman, who was trotting in the opposite direction of their camp. Only now she noticed how far they must have walked during her one-sided conversation; the stream that had only been a mild rustle in the distance now splashed at the bottom of a small ravine, which the bard lined dangerously close.

Wondering what on earth she might have said to offend her, Elissa called out again. When the bard didn't make halt Elissa ran after her, and to her surprise, Leliana broke into a run as well.

What started as a casual stroll ended in a wild chase through the forest, with neither of them willing to give up easily as their exclamations grew more agitated. As branches lashed in her face and the route they were taking allowed her a dangerous view down the steep drop to the creek, Elissa wondered how they ever managed to get into this non-verbal argument. The bard on the contrary seemed unwilling to allow her mind a similar break.

Eventually she caught up with Leliana; the choice to wear a fur tunic rather than leather armor didn't end up only benefitting her fighting skills. She took a dive at her and they both rolled down through the shrubbery, hitting bushes and tree trunks in the process. When they found themselves not slowing down but gaining speed they clamped on to each other, escaping bewildered screams of surprise and anger as they rolled down-hill.

Finally they came to halt in the bedding of the stream. Although the latter even managed to escape a grin in relief, Leliana got up to her knees and slapped Elissa in the face.

Elissa cupped her cheek with her hand and looked up at the bard, who was now standing on her feet again, wiping off her leather armor. "What the hell did you do that for!" She managed to yell in surprise as she dismally rubbed her face.

"Don't you know anything about women? When I walk off you should leave me be!"

Elissa's anger started to boil once more and without getting up she put oil on the fire.

"I've known plenty of women, but you're the biggest drama queen I've ever met! What was that all about?"

Leliana turned around and balled her fists next to her sides, escaping a frustrated growl. "Plenty, right? Elissa Cousland, the connoisseur! You shouldn't toy with people's feelings like that!"

Elissa's surprised gaze softened when these words reached her ears. As the anger ebbed from her mind she crawled to the dry end of the bedding, and turned to sit down and regain her breath. Although she had felt silly earlier, she now only felt a vague sense of stupor.

She sighed and decided to lie back, pillowing her head with her hands. Leliana, who seemed determined to look anywhere but at her companion, finally threw her a wondering glare. She had expected more anger, words of defense, maybe even apologies. Although she had wanted nothing more as she had blabbered on about Alistair, her silence was a disappointment now.

"Why are you quiet all of a sudden, cat got your tongue?" She said with little convincing snide in her voice.

"I just don't know," Elissa stammered.

Leliana's anger turned into curiosity, and eventually she decided to gurdgingly sit down next to her. Elissa sat up and met her eyes, revealing a sudden desperation in her words. "I just don't know Leliana, I'm not good at all this."

Leliana's heart skipped a beat. Then she slowly grasped the differ of context. She only allowed herself a sigh, and continued their silence.

When she finally spoke again, her voice sounded steady, understanding, but still a little mocking.

"Silly unruly girl." She spat at the woman next to her, yet her words revealed a hidden smile.

Elissa escaped a guilty chuckle, seeking understanding by showing an innocence she seemed to had kept for only her to see. It left Leliana feeling compassionate. She put her hand on her friend's shoulder before she spoke.

"It's a strange feeling, no? Love leaves you with more questions than answers, and they will occupy your mind, shielding out everything and everyone else."

Elissa met her disappointed gaze. "You're on my mind too Leliana, you don't know how dear you are to me."

"But I do," Leliana opposed sullenly.

She then leaned over and softly kissed Elissa's mouth, leaving her more flustered than she had expected her to be. Then she smiled. "You will make each other very happy."

Finally the bard laughed, and added: "The only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden a couple, what a lovely outcome in such dire times!"

Elissa took Leliana's hand and allowed her to help her up. She shot her a weary look, and then returned her smile. "Thanks, Leliana." She spoke softly.

"What for?" Leliana exclaimed a little too lightheartedly.

"For understanding." Elissa simply spoke. The bard nodded in agreement. "I will."


	11. Healing and heritage

**.11 Healing and heritage**

If matters concerning the Warden's relationship weren't clear from then on, they eventually grew solid over the days that followed. On their quest to retrieve the Urn of Sacred Ashes Elissa and Alistair fought with a passionate strength, and their newfound affection towards each other couldn't go unnoticed despite their stressful endeavors.

Even though Zevran seemed to insist to continue his flirtatious manners - under the rule "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" - by the time the party was on it's way back to Redcliffe castle he seemed to have given up hope at a chance with their leader, lust or love. Although his friendship with Alistair didn't quite warm up, Elissa expected their recent private conversation had proven a cause in the matter. In their newfound understand, she was able to focus on both her relationships with the men better; Alistair in romance, and Zevran in training.

Once again the Wardens made up the party to visit Redcliffe castle, embodying the sacred escort for the ashes that which were hopefully to cure arl Eamon's poisoning. When the healer cast the dust from the pouch over Eamon's lifeless body he had soon stirred, as waking up from a deep sleep. His immediate responses left bystanders flustered, grateful for the miracle of life the returned bastard prince and his consort brought upon their ruler.

Immediately after rising from his sickbed, Eamon called upon a meeting in the main hall. The arl spoke his appreciation about the effort for his recovery, but mainly about his concern about the unavailable means to fend off a civil war against teyrn Loghain. Their only solution was to call on a meet in Denerim, allowing them time to collect proof to push the traitorous commander off the throne.

"Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge even he can't ignore." Eamon had smacked his lips with a thoughtful frown, as if the taste of poison still lingered on his lips.

"We need someone with a stronger claim on the throne than Loghain's daughter, the widowed queen."

Teagan interfered, barely able to hide his disbelief. "Are you referring to Alistair? Brother, are you certain?"

Elissa heard a stiffened gasp next to her. She subtly turned her gaze to Alistair, his face unexpectedly hard, his lips pursed to a thin line as he stared in front of him, his hands linked behind his back as she had seen him do what seemed thousands of times before.

"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative, but the unthinkable has occurred."

While Eamon explained they should put their bets on the royal blood residing in their midst instead of on a more suitable candidate who could seem opportunistic, Elissa pushed her look upon Alistair, which he exchanged regretfully.

It took her less than a glance to get a grasp on his inner struggle.

The bastard prince, sheltered under Eamon's wing since birth but never once accepted in his midst. Sent off to the chantry because his uncle's young Orlesian wife felt threatened by the presence of an orphaned child, rumored to be her husband's. Even now he was being discussed as a political pawn instead of the man he had become, now driven back into the role of a rebellious young boy who wanted nothing more but to be anyone else but a possible threat or heir to the throne.

And he was, he realized. The gryphon emblem shone proudly on his chest, heaving up and down with his accelerating breath. He was a Grey Warden now, one of the only two left in Ferelden. He might not have finished his templar training and he might not be a great leader, maybe not even a great Warden. But he had other obligations than to meddle in political games while he grew up learning his heritage was a secret, if not a shameful one, and least of all something to rely upon.

But Warden or not, a fierce warrior or no; when Eamon insisted Loghain would win without his effort to step up and take what all of a sudden was rightfully his, Alistair could only mutter in wretched agreement.

Elissa was shaken from her irritable stare by arl Eamon, who spoke to her. "What do you think, Warden. I do not wish to proceed without your blessing."

She turned her gaze from Alistair to the arl, crossing her arms and eyeing him with what she hoped would seem polite interest. "What are my options?"

"I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another."

She then turned her gaze at Alistair. One filled with compassion, understanding and the same heartfelt sorrow that had occupied him from the moment his heritage had been brought up again.

The templar was surprised how Elissa seemed to take his side, and his hardened face relaxed for a fleeting second. Until she spoke.

"Then I suggest we follow your plan."

Elissa took a courteous bow and moved in a dignified stride from the main hall. Alistair followed only a step behind her. They passed ser Perth in the hall with his soldiers, and before they reached the staircase to the guest accommodations, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the arl's study.

"_Then I suggest we follow your plan?"_ He imitated her in a mocking voice. Elissa pulled herself free from his grasp, looking offended.

"Do you have a better idea Alistair?"

"Yes, what about not feeding my dear uncle ideas about making me King! You know I'm not even fit to lead our party, let alone all of Ferelden!"

"You'd be amazed what you could do if you'd put your mind to it, but I respect your thoughts on this." She strut into the room and sat down on the edge of the desk, nonchalantly leaning backward on her hands. Even though Alistair felt angered he couldn't help but long to walk up to her and touch her, vent his frustration on her in wild passion. Until her words sank in.

"Wait, you do?"

"Yes," Elissa eventually spoke. The single word sounded grudgingly, but decisively spoken.

"Yes, Alistair. I was the second child of a teyrn, never prepared or deemed fit to rule my father's lands." Hurt was ridden through the sound of her voice as she spoke. "Now, everything's changed. Fergus might have been alive before the battle, but so far there haven't been any clues he survived the raid at Ostagar."

Tears started to pearl in her eyes and Alistair stepped closer, but before he could comfort her in his embrace she stopped him by holding his wrists.

"Family duty has made me consider the possibility to return home after all this, to rebuild the Highever citadel and to support my father's people. To fulfill the role that would never be mine to play, even only as long as it would take for Fergus to return." She spoke with great sincerity, a warmth that could only come from an upbringing of just and righteousness, and a longing for compensation for being surpassed by her sibling.

Alistair reached out to her but she turned her head and sighed. He caught her wiping her cheek as she shook her hair and recaptured her poise.

"But I know I am a Warden now. With a duty beyond arls, teyrns and even Kings."

She almost spat the words at him, not in mockery but with a tone that appointed the redundancy of these matters in the current light of day. Yet as she continued, her inner struggle sounded through her words.

"We are the only ones in Ferelden who can stop the blight. We are to submit to the taint within thirty years. We're known to be unable to reproduce. A dying breed."

She sighed, turning herself back to him. "Our ancestry is behind us, whether Eamon understands this or not." She locked her eyes to his, smiling apologetically: "After all, there will be no politics to meddle in when there is no Ferelden left."

"But if a Landsmeet is deemed the only valid option, we might as well oppose as little as possible." She continued, sounding tactical rather than emotional: "Like Eamon said, only there Ferelden can unite and decide who shall rule, one way or another. We will find a solution."

Alistair looked at her in quiet contemplation and then curled the corner of his mouth up into a smile. "Duncan would have been proud of you." He wiped another tear from her cheek with a streak of his thumb. "And I couldn't have been more grateful for a fellow Warden who understands her duties as well as I do. Who understands me, better than I do."

Elissa looked down but allowed Alistair to lift her chin and meet her lips in a tender kiss.

Before they broke apart Alistair heard the sliding of wood. He looked around to discover the source of the noise, and saw that Elissa opened a drawer from the desk she was leaning against. She didn't turn his eyes away off his face, but smiled curiously.

Alistair looked down. In the drawer lay a silver amulet. It showed an image of Andraste's holy flame, riddled with cracks. He picked the chain up between his finger and his thumb, supporting the pendant in his palm. "This is my mother's amulet, it has to be. Why isn't it broken?"

"I found it during our last stay here." Elissa spoke softly.  
>"And you didn't knick it like you do with everything else you find? I'm surprised."<p>

Elissa recognized his mocking tone and threw him a playful look, barely revealing a hint of relief. "I thought, well I hoped Eamon would soon be able to give it to you himself."

"He must have found the amulet after I threw it at the wall, all those years ago. And he repaired it and kept it, but I don't understand. Why would he do that?"

"Perhaps you mean more to him than you think."

Alistair suddenly stood up and clenched the amulet in his fist. "I can hardly believe that," He spoke with badly contained anger in his voice. He turned around and continued heartily, almost in desperation. "I know, I know, I should be thankful for his upbringing. Someone else might have left me to die in a ditch to save himself the trouble of hiding my heritage and taking care of me."

"But growing up feeling rejected, not only by my royal father but also by the uncle that sent me off in favor of his untrusting wife... Even now he talks about me like I'm not there, like I'm a pawn to be taken in and out of the game whenever the need arises. How could I possibly feel what he wants me to do is in my best interest?" He quickly added in a muttering tone: "and considering the fact he's asking _me_ to rule over Ferelden, in everyone's best interest."

Elissa walked up to him and took the pendant from his hand. She looked at it for a moment, and then looked up at Alistair, throwing the chain around his neck, hiding the pendant under his shirt.

"Everyone is out for themselves Alistair, you should know that."


	12. A first time for everything

**12. A first time for everything**

Although Alistair and Elissa stated they weren't at all interested in meddling in politics, their visit to Orzammar proved to require help of exactly that sort. It soon became clear the dwarves were lordless, and that they wouldn't be able to aid them without a ruler on the throne. Soon the Wardens found themselves running what felt like trivial errands throughout the dwarven city.

Elissa was raised to respect other customs but she started to feel the dwarven traditions seemed rather folly with the upcoming blight at hand. Ridding the city of the criminal carta barely felt like a fitting task, but she couldn't help but feel out of place and a little ashamed to fight duals in Lord Harrowmont's name during the Proving, to feign ancestral support for those to vote during the dwarven equivalent of a Landsmeet.

When the battlemaster announced her Grey Warden title rather than her name she felt herself cringe a little; for once she was happy Duncan wasn't present to judge her decisions. This was the moment her newly acquired fighting skills were put to the test: Although multiple contestants were taking extra effort, single opponents dropped to the ground before being able to shake off their stuns. Alistair was trying to keep his confident composure, but Zevran was gesturing her in approval from the sidelines, proud to see how his lessons were put to practice.

After Lord Harrowmont requested his final task, travelling into the Deep Roads to find the missing Paragon Branka, Elissa couldn't help but vent her frustration to the dwarven King to be. Her noble upbringing gave her an aura of royalty; her posture elegant and powerful, her words carefully chosen but spoken with the confidence of having the truth on her side.

Although Harrowmont wasn't aware of her heritage he addressed her with more respect she deemed her own words worthy. He was able to convince her of the importance of their dangerous mission and eventually, Elissa reluctantly agreed. They were to venture into the Deep Roads by morning, and although Harrowmont insisted they would stay as his guests on his estate the party of four decided to join the rest of the companions at their camp near the mountain pass.

When they had a meal around the fire and decided on the formation for the next morning, everyone sought out their tents in solidarity. The Deep Roads didn't only hold significance for the Grey Wardens; everyone knew that the threat culling on the surface carried a source deep under the ground, a fact that formed the unison opinion that this might be their most dangerous task so far.

Due to the cold everyone set up their tents near the bonfire, even the usually secluded Morrigan. This time the Wardens were the ones deciding to isolate themselves from their companions; Alistair insisted on a tactical meeting before entering the legendary dwarven thaigs, filling Elissa in on any piece of darkspawn information he might have missed to strengthen their odds of survival.

They piled up the furs their companions could spare and Elissa picked up a burning cinder from the fire. Although joking about any sign of withdrawal from the Grey Wardens seemed mandatory over the last few weeks, no one seemed interested to break the pressing silence. It was a haunting forebode for the day to come.

She followed her fellow Grey Warden through the ankle-deep snow, crossing a mountain stream until they eventually reached a group of overhanging trees. While they set up camp and Elissa nurtured a new fire, Alistair handed her information that would benefit understanding her recently developed Warden senses. She listened carefully and although there was little he didn't mention before, she felt reassured by the sound of his voice, now and then throwing in a joke for her benefit. Everything would turn out for the better; in fact, they had no choice.

When the fire finally met a healthy size, melting the snow around the firepit, Elissa inspected the camp. Instead of two tents there was a single overhanging canvas, providing cover and warmth over the little nest of furs in the middle. The powdered ground lit up in a warm orange hue by the flickering fire and when the flames licked higher they could distinguish the spruces in the distance, the mountaintops bathing in the moonlight. She met Alistair's gaze in wonder, allowing him to help her up.

He didn't speak but she could appreciate the humor in his silent appeal; she answered his wordless question with a wondered smile. He leaned forward to kiss the corner of her mouth, then the other, and finally her lips, welcoming the familiar pressing of her body against his chest. He captured her eyes with his, brushing back a strand of her hair with his fingertips.

"Here's the thing," He spoke huskily, while he grinned at the sound of his own voice. "Being near you drives me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you."

Elissa answered his grin with an affectionate smile. Alistair continued shyly. "Not, ever. Maybe this is too fast, I don't know. But I know what I feel."

Elissa tightened her grip around his broad waist, nuzzling the tip of her nose to his. Peeking through her eyelashes she spoke in a teasing, seductive voice. "You want to spend the night, Alistair? Are you sure?" She felt his shallow breath caressing her lips, and although he would never admit it, his hands trembled slightly while they rested in the small of her back.

"I wanted to wait for the perfect time and the perfect place, but when will it be perfect? We sort of stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time I still found myself falling for you, in between all the fighting and everything else." His dreamy gaze turned more passionate and Elissa felt his grip around her body tighten. She escaped a gasp in surprise.

"I really don't want to wait anymore, I've never done this before, you know that." Elissa lifted her hand to caress his cheek but he didn't seem to notice.

"But I want it to be with you. While we still have the chance."

Alistair's gaze turned in quiet desperation. His face relaxed slightly when he noticed Elissa's little smile. "No need to say anything else," she said with a little giggle, "I know what you mean." Alistair cocked an eyebrow first and then laughed at his own passionate appeal.

Before he could think of loosening his grip around her waist Elissa wrapped one leg around him, leaving him unable to move or to do anything else but to receive her fiery kisses while her hands trailed across his back and his shoulders. When she finally released him his plate dropped to the ground in a single clank, leaving Alistair's chest bare in the night breeze.

She pulled herself free to admire the results of her nimble fingers, finally able to shamelessly gaze upon the perfect planes of his torso, the form of his shoulders and his bare arms. Alistair walked up to her in one single stride and swept her off her feet, supporting her while she climbed around his waist, wrapping her legs around his hips to press herself even closer to his body, to mold herself around his form.

Alistair kneeled down in the protection of their tent with Elissa in his lap. The flickering fire bathed her in a luscious warm light, casting an elongated shadow of her form against the canvas. While he drank her in with his eyes he slowly slipped the fabric of her garments off her shoulder, revealing the excitement of her breathing under her skin as well as the puffs of mist escaping her lips.

Then he placed a hand on her breast, not to explore, but as Elissa eventually realized, to feel her heartbeat under his fingers. She looked up at him in surprise. She was moved by his genuine interest and couldn't help but stare at him with her lips slightly parted, a single tear pearling in the corner of her eye. Her own voice lingered in the back of her head; "I've never felt like this before." Approaching towards the seal of their love, it couldn't have been more true.

Alistair's gaze met hers full understanding, like they were sharing a little secret, and when he kissed her tears away he found himself back in her passionate embrace. She pinned him back while she was trailing down kisses against his body, leaving him gasping in surprise and pleasure while he knitted his fingers in her hair.

When she got up she took the liberty of revealing the last mysteries of her body, sliding the fabric of her garments over her hips until they dropped to the floor around her ankles. Alistair could only sigh in delight while he sat up and invitingly stretched his arms out for her. His heart skipped a beat when he could feel her naked body against his, protecting it from the cold.

Their lips only parted to escape sighs of enjoyment and occasionally the enlightened smile or moan, embracing the bodily movements that fit their feelings, loving and slow first, fast and passionate later. They never lost each others eyes, revealing feelings beyond lust; affection, friendship, mutual understanding. Although usually they were well aware of their differences at that moment they couldn't have been more alike, sharing their common goal, body and mind.

They were a unity then, breathing and moving as one. The light of the dying campfire colored their bodies in a warm hue and when Elissa looked over his shoulder to follow the lines of his back, her legs supported by his calves, she could barely see where her own body stopped and his begun.

Her breathing started to fasten and she gently clawed her fingers in his shoulders in warning. He instantly met her eyes with a smug little smile, smothering her whispers with a deep kiss, consuming her body whole.

They met in what felt like an earth shattering percussion, leaving Elissa with her back arched and Alistair's face hidden at the base of her neck, breathing in her scent, capturing the pulses of her trembling body in silent amazement while the waves of his own pleasure took over.

When Elissa's lips escaped one last sigh her eyes opened and Alistair's mouth curled up in a satisfied smile. He allowed her to run his fingers through his hair, along the stubble of his chin.

"According to all the sisters of the monastery I should have been struck by lightning by now," He spoke softly, revealing the content in his voice.

"Not for that performance." Elissa whispered slyly. She rolled on top of Alistair and gave him a loving kiss, eventually snuggling her face against his chest. His heartbeat was fast, and it took a long time to steady.

"So what now," Alistair finally spoke with the same lightheartedness. "Where do we go from here?" Elissa snickered. "I'm not sure… I don't think I can handle another night like this." Alistair sat up, supporting them both with his arms. His face revealed a mocking frown. Elissa evened the crease from his eyebrow with her fingertips, meeting his slightly worried gaze. "If it were up to me I'd say we'd stay together, no matter what." She spoke softly, answering his look with a smile.

Alistair's lips escaped a relieved sigh. "If it were up to me, I'd say that's a brilliant plan." He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them on their sides.

They should try to capture some sleep before their new ordeal in the morning.


	13. Of Kings and wise men

**.13 Of Kings and wise men**

When the Deep Roads party finally returned after none less than three days of absence, relief washed over the remaining members at the campsite. The Wardens had survived the infamous darkspawn tunnels and returned in close to good shape. Of course the atmosphere got even lighter when their new companion Oghren whipped out his travel sized cask of ale, and the burly dwarf was soon welcomed as an old friend rather than a newcomer.

During their sleep deprived days under the ground, travelling to the Brecillian forest proved to be a welcome holdup. Although they felt the urge to make haste to present their treaties to the Dalish elves, the party took their time to recover from their most recent ordeals. They allowed themselves shorter day marches, practicing and improving their fighting skills in the fading light, sharing stories around the fire and in the Warden's case, enjoying each others company in the privacy of their bedrolls.

Only when the Wardens were shaken by yet another dream of the arch demon they decided on a faster pace, waking the rest of the party before the morning light to make up for their necessary drawling. Although their minor battle wounds were now healed they felt guilty for allowing themselves times to rest, forcing their companions to reprise for their decision with little explanation about matters only those who are submitted to the taint would fully understand.

After they helped the elves with their personal hardships and received their support in their cause, the most logical step was to travel back to Redcliffe castle to inform arl Eamon of their success in forming an army against the darkspawn. Although they were shaken by the obvious decay throughout the land, preventing a civil war to unite Ferelden against the blight was now their first priority.

The companions soon turned out to be well informed about Alistair's heritage and making good natured jokes about the matter started to become a daily routine to lighten the mood. Although the Wardens never ceased to laugh it off an attentive bystander would have noticed their thoughtful glances, barely hiding that their thoughts weren't as far beyond King and crown as they seemed.

Since they weren't sure how the party would hold during their visit to Denerim to arrange the Landsmeet, Elissa insisted she'd use her time at night to practice her battle tactics with Zevran. His knowledge about poisons and his general skills as an Antivan assassin matched her more subtle fighting tactics, and Alistair reluctantly allowed them time alone to increase to what he felt were her chances of survival. The clinging of blades, the laughter and sometimes growling reached his ears from the outskirts of the camp, and Alistair's badly hidden glances in the general direction of their presence was yet another reason for well meant joking.

At the fortnight of their arrival in Redcliffe, Elissa managed to uncover Zevran's weaknesses despite his efforts to hide them during their training sessions. When she pinned him to the ground with the tip of her dagger against his chin he smiled before he shook her off.

"Not bad for a noble maiden, if I might say so," He spoke while he dusted off his armor.

Elissa slumped down against a tree to catch her breath, nonchalantly pinning her blade into it's bark. "Why, what does my heritage has to do with it?" She panted lightly while the words rolled of her tongue; she meant to put little meaning in them.

Zevran threw her a thoughtful look and eventually sat down next to her, crossing his legs in a fluent motion. Elissa waited for him to speak while she unbuckled her boots; she was getting used to the elf ending his lessons with his spoken knowledge of herbs and poisons, a welcome lecture to regain their breath after their sparring.

"Heritage has more to do with your fighting than you might think, my Grey Warden."

Elissa looked up in surprise, as she felt their training session was taking an unexpected turn. Her breathing slowed immediately, as if trying to regain her strength in the shortest possible time to fend off any unwelcome questions or remarks. Zevran ignored this, and continued while his eyes lingered in the distance.

"Your near constant vigilance despite your secluded youth, points out that you were aware of the dangers around you. Or rather looked them up to spice up your daily routine, so to speak."

He looked at Elissa affectionately, and instead of ruffling her hair like she would have expected him to when he reached out his hand, he skillfully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"And besides your noble posture you possess the discipline of one brought up with a strong sense of calling."

"Well thank you Zevran, I think." Elissa blinked once, and continued to pull off her boots. "But I was never raised with a sense of calling. My brother Fergus was raised to be my father's successor, not I."

"Ah," Zevran only spoke this single word.

Elissa broke the rather uncomfortable silence that followed as soon as she convinced herself the elf would remain wordless otherwise.

"Ah." She imitated his thoughtful glance with annoyance in her voice. She felt something was coming, but she couldn't quite grasp what. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing much my dear Warden, it just answers some questions that have arisen during my travels with you and Alistair."

He continued his silence until Elissa threw her boot at him.

"Spill it Zevran, you might be a wily conversationalist but I'd rather have you speak your mind."

Zevran now grinned apologetically, seeming to realize with whom he was dealing with. Yet he seemed to remain cautious, carefully picking his words.

"I do know better than to think your love interest in the templar is only political. After all my own attempts at an aim for your heart wouldn't have gone in vain otherwise," He interrupted his chuckling when he noticed Elissa's eyes widen out of impatience.

"But the infamous teyrn Cousland's daughter and the lost prince brought forward as the only rightful heir to the throne of Ferelden, it is very convenient. You can not deny that, my dear Warden."

Zevran wordlessly answered her scrutinizing glare and crossed his arms, not budging physically nor verbally.

First she stammered, never fully able to finish a sentence. Then, during their silence, Elissa's jaws clenched and finally she blushed. She felt the heat in her cheeks ebb away before she decided to speak again.

"Alistair has no interest in the throne," she finally spoke with well placed confidence.

Zevran recognized the finality in her words, and stood up with a courteous bow. Before he left he ended their conversation.

"He does not, my dear Warden. But do you?"


	14. Of question and queens

**.14 Of question and queens**

Their stay in the enclosures of Denerim seemed to be filled with warfare, both physical and political. As soon as they arrived in the company of arl Eamon they received an intimidating welcome by teyrn Loghain and Rendon Howe. Although it was common knowledge for those who travelled with her that the man that killed her family was in their midst Elissa kept her posture, slyly venting her opinion with a barely noticeable threat in her voice.

When word reached Eamon that Loghain turned against his daughter and that she was held captive at Howe's estate, Elissa immediately formed a rescue party. She was never one to act indifferently on missions but Alistair noticed she was now more focused than usual and not in the mood for jokes or small talk.

An outsider might have thought the noble maiden was eager to serve her country by freeing King Cailan's widow. Even Alistair wondered for a moment; after all they spoke about the possibility to vote for Anora at the Landsmeet to save Alistair from the duty he was so eager to outrun, and her safety and support was a vital part of their plan.

But when Elissa finally met the man who killed her entire household her posture changed. First a frantic smile played around her lips, weapons at the ready, but when she started to spill her mind she slowly fell deeper into a catlike posture, ready to strike. Although the man was a skillful fighter and in the company of a guard of mages Elissa close to slaughtered them all.

She almost danced from target to target, her face composed and concentrated. She was the one to strike Rendon Howe down with a final blow, cleaving his chest with a wound that soon colored the floor red. Only when he spoke his final words and his life ebbed away from his wounds, Alistair saw a single tear pearling in the corner of her eye. When Elissa's revenge was finally fulfilled he held her while the pool of blood ran around the soles of their boots.

Nonetheless their return to arl Eamon's estate was completely revolved around queen Anora's safe return, despite the fact Alistair and Elissa were captured and had to escape Fort Drakon in the process. It didn't escape Elissa's attention the queen was used to having her way, and during her words of thanks she struck her as arrogant, maybe even like a spoiled little girl.

Of course Eamon considered the queen a tricky ally who might undermine his plan to put Alistair on the throne. When Elissa acted on his advice to talk to her, it soon became clear Anora was hoping for the Warden's support. Since she and Alistair already discussed this option and it seemed the most suitable for them, Elissa voiced her plan to support her during the Landsmeet, much to Anora's gratitude.

Yet when she returned to Alistair to report him about their conversation, he sighed. "She wants to be queen, I get it. I don't trust her anymore than her father though."

Elissa escaped a sigh too and slowly grasped the truth in his words. Was Anora, the woman that struck her as power hungry and seemed self absorbed, the right interest for the throne? Not only for them, but in the interest of Ferelden?

Anora resided at the estate from then on; a guest who arose mixed feelings with every other inhabitant. Arl Eamon purposely kept her out of meetings that would lead to support in his favor during the Landsmeet and the queen requested meetings with Elissa more than often, only to remind her of their agreed collaboration. Elissa felt pulled at from both sides and was thankful to be able to escape the estate for a few days to look into the unrest at the elven alianage.

Yet on their return with the written proof Loghain was involved in elven slavery, the Landsmeet was immediately called. They barely had time to refresh themselves when the maids brought them two washbasins to make themselves presentable; Alistair reluctantly splashed water in his neck and watched do the same Elissa, though she could only return his blank stare with a worried glance.

Strands of damp hair still stuck to her forehead when Elissa called for Zevran and Leliana to accompany them to the Landsmeet. They formed a peculiar party on their arrival; Alistair was eyed with interest by every noble in the hall, and also Elissa was inspected with expectations that reminded her of the key-role she was going to play in the outcome of this meeting.

When Loghain arose from his corner she felt Alistair tense beside her. The man still held a posture of rarely seen pride despite his responsibility for dividing the land. He applauded Eamon's speech slowly and although his haughtiness annoyed Elissa, she couldn't help but feel impressed by the aura he exceeded; a horrifying but great leader. Yet his stature didn't lessen the urge to rig him on her blade as she did with Howe, only a fortnight ago.

"You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it." Loghain's voice had lost all the appeal it once held; his irrational hatred sounded through, even to outsiders. Yet Elissa couldn't help but silently agree with him. "The better question is, who will pull the strings."

He then finally noticed the Warden party, oddly out of place at the palace in their travelling attire. When he started an unconvincing story about the Orlesian threat Elissa regained her senses, shaking off his spell and able to answer him in a diplomatic and polite fashion, securing their creditability on the spot.

She carefully avoided speaking about Ostagar but brought up the discoveries they did that were his to blame for, including Eamon's poisoning and the unrest at the alianage. Just like the arl had predicted the nobles spoke out their disdain about the matters, leaving further accusation unnecessary.

Then Loghain spoke in what seemed a desperate swing towards their appeal. "But enough of this. I have a question for you, Warden. What have you done to my daughter?" 

Elissa couldn't help but escape a frown. "I have protected her from you, on her own request."

"You took my daughter, our queen, by force! Killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

Elissa looked around but couldn't recognize Anora's face in the groups of nobles around the hall. She said she would meet them at the palace, but where was she now?

Suddenly the queen graciously stepped through the doors, raising a surprised muttering throughout the room. To her own surprise, Elissa felt a bit disappointed to see her.

"I believe I can speak for myself." Anora strode up to them with a smug smile around her lips, addressing the Landsmeet with a confidence only grown by knowing one's victory is at hand.

Once again Elissa recognized the features of a spoiled child in her queen, defying not only her father, but also herself and her party with this dramatic entrance. Nonetheless her words booked success; although Elissa carefully avoided mentioning Loghain's treachery at Ostagar, Anora was able to convince everyone present of the betrayal against her late husband King Cailan during the battle which had caust them their fellow Wardens. The queen concluded dramatically on her own behalf.

"I would have already been killed, if not for this Grey Warden."

Elissa remained silent for a moment, but eventually felt obligated to speak. "The queen speaks the truth."

Loghain withdrew into a response of empty words and seemed to have decided to call upon a voting quickly, in case the Wardens had more tricks up their sleeve. But the seeds they have planted and the effort they put into their cause paid off; one by one the nobles spoke in support of the Grey Wardens. The last noble who croaked his allegiance to Loghain was out voiced by the boisterous appeal of the last bann, who sided with the Warden under a loud applause.

Elissa felt her chest swell and although during the meet she had become the embodiment of her order, she now felt like a Cousland, her proud father's daughter of one of the last remaining teyrns in Ferelden, slaughtered by conspirators, one standing before her now. She stepped forward and spoke in conclusion.

"The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain. Step down gracefully."

The old commander seemed to be eager to dig his own grave with his last misplaced appeal. Eventually he too decided it was better to settle this dispute honorably, and the traditional rules of a duel were explained.

Elissa looked around her, not quite believing the moment was there, gaing her bearings in the to her unfamiliar throne room. Yet when she rasted her palms on the pommels of her blades, Elissa noticed Alistair. His gaze was ridden with rage, his breathing fast and deep, his eyes locked on the back of the traitor who was about to be put to justice.

When Loghain asked whether she would fight him herself or call on a champion, she gently squeezed Alistair's shoulder and nudged him forward. "Alistair is my champion."

"Then let us test the metal of our would be King. Prepare yourself!"

The two warriors circled each other throughout the hall, exchanging weary glances. Alistair's face showed no battle scars but his youthful physique and his excellent technique demanded a certain respect that could not be ignored. Loghain's posture revealed a faith that seemed to be slowly collapsing, but his reluctance to cover himself with his shield showed the confidence of a skilled warrior.

When the first blows fell Elissa cringed slightly, and for a moment she wished she was in Alistair's place. When she felt Leliana's hand on her albow she turned around. Her eyes were sympathetic and for a moment Elissa realized how she must have looked; worried, desperate, panicked. Yet when Zevran caught her stare with a cocked eyebrow she regained her courage.

She turned around and saw both warriors giving and taking hits with deafening clanks. She regained her proud posture, even when Alistair took a nasty blow on the jaw by Loghain's shield. When he fought back with a fiery strength she realized her trust was just and she was filled with an immense sense of pride when he worked his opponent to the ground, heavily panting but overjoyed by victory and retort.

Loghain climbed to his feet and caught his breath before he spoke. "There is some of Maric in you after all. Good."

Alistair had turned his back to Loghain but turned around when he heard his voice, drawing his sword yet again. "Forget Maric," he spoke slowly. "This if for Duncan."

It took a second before his words sank in. Suddenly the hall silenced, the calls of victory quickly dying away in anticipation. Alistair met Elissa's eyes, and she curtly nodded. Loghain slowly walked backwards but Alistair's sword met his throat in a blink of the eye, splattering bystanders with his blood. Anora fell to her knees besides the corpse of her father, commander of the King's armies, the man who freed Ferelden of the Orlesian occupation. A hero fallen from grace by his own doing.

Alistair rested the tip of his longsword to the floor and stared at the corpse at his feet. Elissa slowly moved besides him and grabbed his hand. They met each other in a gaze filled with a sad relief; a feeling neither of them had anticipated after living the last months in calculating vigilance. Alistair inconspicuously wrapped his arm around her waist as they waited for someone to speak; their work was done for that day.

Then arl Eamon raised his voice. "So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne."

Alistair's eyes widened and he stepped forward to Eamon. "Wait, what? When did this get decided? Nobody decided that, have they?" The last words were spoken in his usual light hearted humor, yet sorrow dominated his tone.

Anora stood up and widened her arms to address the Landsmeet. "He refuses the throne! Everyone here has heard him. I think it is clear then, that he abdicates in favor of me."

"I hardly think you are the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora." Eamon spoke with a barely hidden grudge in his voice.

"Warden," He called, walking up to Elissa. "Will you help us?"

Once again the hall was filled with silence, and everyone looked at Elissa. She slowly turned her gaze across the room, once and again meeting anticipated and curious looks. She looked at Anora, barely hiding her suspense, quickly rocking from one foot to another. Then to Alistair, who eyed her curiously. Elissa sighed.

"I need to talk to Alistair first."


	15. In peace, vigilance

**15. In peace, vigilance**

Anora escaped a little insulted cry and balled her fists, as Elissa ignored her and grabbed Alistair's hand, evading his wondered gaze. She pulled him towards the doors which were opened for them by the guards on their sudden approach. They were only closed when she threw one of them a reproaching look; the heavy wooden doors closed noisily behind them.

Elissa turned her back towards Alistair, and put her hands on her waist. She hung her head for a moment and then looked to the ceiling. She was looking for words, or simply overwhelmed by all which had happened at the Landsmeet; Alistair couldn't say for sure, judging by the wondered look in his eyes.

"Are you ready to be King?" She finally spoke. She now crossed her arms and her indecisiveness was almost comical. Alistair couldn't help but laugh. When her face remained serious, he silenced, listening to the sound of his own chuckles die away.

"As ready as anyone in my position would ever be. But why," He turned towards her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing his eyes upon hers. "Why would you ask such a thing? I thought your path was clear, our path was clear. You even promised Anora your support!" 

Elissa shook his hands off her shoulders and slowly slumped against the wall. A feint sound of muttering sounded through the doors of the meeting hall. He was right, what was she thinking? She rested her head in her hands and sighed. Why would she hold up the Landsmeet when their path was already clear?

What had made her doubt? Anora's opportunistic speech, her disloyal entrance, or the way she was objecting in her high-pitched voice, even now? Or was it her own longing for a noble status, now even one of royal magnitude?

Or was she merely driven by instinct, one that would overrule any other factor, as convenient they might seem for the outcome she was weighing now? Were she and Alistair simply the best candidates for the throne? Her status with the people, strengthened by her upbringing and leadership, combined with Alistair's pure bloodline, knighthood and military insight. Had everything simply happened the way it had, so she and Alistair would be there and then, so she would become the queen to the only rightful King, for better or worse?

Then she heard Alistair's voice softly in her ear.

"I am ready, if you are."

She looked up and saw his face close to hers.

"What?" She stammered bewildered. Alistair chuckled and sat down on one knee before her. "You asked me if I'm ready to be King. I am ready, if you are." He ended his sentence with a genuine smile. Elissa's heart skipped a beat and looked up at him. "But, how,"

"As much as I'd like to pull one on our spoiled princess over there," He spoke while he cocked his head towards the doors, "I know what's on your mind. You're not exactly an open book Elissa, but even I can add one and one together."

He sighed, but the calm that washed over his face softened Elissa's heart.

"You come from one of the oldest and most respected families of Ferelden. Your blood is the closest to the throne besides my own."

When she opened her mouth to speak Alistair silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Let me finish," He added with a playful smile. "With your upbringing and wit, and with my heritage and of course stunning looks, we would make a great royal couple. Not to mention better rulers than Loghain's power hungry daughter over there."

Alistair met her eyes and smiled expectantly. Elissa bit her lower lip to remain silent, but her eyes were wide in an excitement she could hardly suppress. Nonetheless she answered hesitantly.

"I'm aware that I know more of a noble's life than you do Alistair, but I was never meant to rule, you know that."

Alistair looked deep into her eyes and slowly stroked her cheek with his fingers. "Then isn't this the perfect opportunity to fulfill that dream?"

Elissa looked up and met his compassionate gaze. He was now close enough to kiss, and she could feel his breath on his face. She closed her eyes while her lips parted and she could see him before her, crowned in gold, wearing Maric's rich armor while he resided on the throne. She sat next to him as an equal, wearing a tiara matching his crown and the rich silks she thought she would never miss at Highever were now dressing her even more gloriously as the queen of Ferelden.

When she felt the stubble of Alistair's beard against her lips she opened her eyes and smiled reluctantly. He too opened his eyes, his parted lips changing into a wondered grin. Elissa looked at him and sighed, returning his smile.

"It is a dream Alistair, nothing more."

Alistair looked at her questioningly, but before he could speak she continued. "Maybe I really am an open book Alistair. Only when my house fell I fully appreciated the advantages of being a noble, and only then I realized that being the only Cousland without a political duty has taken it's toll. Always the odd one out, never the one to rule." She sighed again and put her hand on his knee.

"The possibility to rule besides you has never been an option I was fully willing to acknowledge, even though you proved to have seen it before I was willing to admit it was one of my true desires. A desire that is now growing beyond both our common senses!"

She allowed Alistair to help her up and was grateful to be welcomed into his arms. She rested her hot cheek against his cool armor, and deliberately trailed the gryphon emblem on his chest with her finger. "We are Grey Wardens, first and foremost. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death,"

Alistair coughed before she could finish the Warden motto. He raised her chin with his bent finger and almost whispered. "Duncan would have been proud of us. We really got each other doubting back there."

Anora's loud objections were audible in the hallway, even through the solid oak doors.

"And if we didn't do it ourselves, she sure did."

Elissa laughed and received his lips eagerly, sealing the unity of their thoughts with a tender kiss. Alistair breathed into her mouth: "But I did get you wondering there, being my queen wouldn't have been that bad I hope?"

"Not at all. I already pictured you and me crowned and coronated before Loghain was well defeated. Not to mention the children, you know, if it would have been possible to get any."

"Children schmildren. Unless you'd really like a couple of little Wardens to join our ranks, then we could at least try to get some, every single night, and morning, not to mention every other afternoon."

When they released to return to the Landsmeet chamber Elissa curtsied with a mocking smile.

"Whatever you say, my prince."


	16. A dark promise

**.16 A dark promise**

Queen Anora was visibly overjoyed by her, after the Warden's prolonged talk, unexpected victory. When a runner announced that the darkspawn were attacking Redcliffe she ordered an immediate retreat for what she expected was their final stand.

Being back on the road felt final for both Alistair and Elissa; their recent struggles seemed long forgotten and their path clear. With the impending apparition of the arch demon on their hands, they never felt more of a sense of purpose.

When the Warden party arrived in Redcliffe and fought their way into the keep it soon became clear that it was a diversion: Riordan announced that the final stand would be in Denerim. The armies were assembled now Redcliffe was freed and they would return to the capital at daybreak.

After Riordan's final explanation about the mortal role Grey Wardens play in defeating the arch demon, Alistair retreated to his room to rest. The atmosphere was pressing and Elissa sighed before she followed him. Riordan made it clear that he would be aiming for the final blow at the dragon during the battle so he would bring the sacrifice needed to defeat the demon once and for all, but she or Alistair would have to prepare to take his place should anything go wrong. For the greater good.

Would she be able to do it? Would Alistair be able to allow her to make the sacrifice in his place if the need would arise? Elissa slowly strode through the corridors and barely paid attention to her surroundings, let alone Morrigan's unforeseen presence in her sleeping quarters. When she entered the room the witch coughed politely. "Do not be alarmed, it is only I."

"Morrigan?" Elissa spoke with a broken voice. She quickly wiped the tears that were beading in the corner of her eyes and continued. "Is everything alright?"

"I am well. It is you who are in danger." Morrigan turned her head and casually continued. "I have a plan, you see. A way out. A loop, in your hole."

Elissa walked up to her with a puzzled look on her face, but soon felt annoyance grow in her chest for the mocking tone the witch never ceased to use. Morrigan turned around now, and slowly walked over. "I know what happens when the arch demon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed. I come to tell you that this sacrifice does not need to be."

Elissa dropped dead in her steps and felt unexpected relief wash over her. She knew Morrigan was not to be trusted. She could sense by the tone of her voice that there was a catch to the story. But she knew better than to think Morrigan was lying.

"I offer a way out, a way out for all you Grey Wardens."

While Morrigan continued her story, Elissa listened carefully, now and then asking pointed questions that the witch impatiently waved off. A child would be conceived. A fruit young enough to survive the arch demon's possession. The reincarnation of an old god that Morrigan would take away and that they would never see again. A child that needed to be conceived with the help of a male Grey Warden, shortly submitted to the taint. Not Riordan: Alistair. Tonight. Elissa's stomach turned just by thinking about it.

"Alistair despises me but he would listen to you. Listen to what I offer you, a chance to avoid death, or better yet, a chance to slay the arch demon and live as a hero."

Elissa's lips escaped a frantic laugh. She met eyes with Morrigan, who looked at her skeptically.

"And you actually think Alistair would agree to this?"

"You will advise him to do so. And because he trusts you, he will comply. Consider the alternative."

Elissa sighed and felt her knees buckle under the weight that pressed on her shoulders. It was clear to her Morrigan had an ulterior motive then to save her, or Alistair, or any Grey Warden. But she was the daughter of Flemmeth, the infamous witch of the wilds. Whatever reason she had to long for this child it was obviously strong, and it would be likely her longing would lead to success. That they would succeed in slaying the arch demon, without risking the chance to have to lose each other.

Elissa heard her own voice speak the words while she slowly turned around and slumped back through the hall.

"Very well. I'll talk to Alistair."

Every nerve in her body told her this was wrong. Yet all of her heart knew she would not turn an option on a happier outcome down, not with a prospect so dire.

Three Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, after their ambush at Ostagar. Two young lovers, willing to take the blow for each other in less than the blink of an eye. And one horrifying option that could prevent all of this.

She slowly walked through the open door towards Alistair, who greeted her with badly hidden concern in his voice. "I see you can't sleep either. I saw Morrigan in your room earlier and that look she gave me," He clicked his tongue. "That was icy, even for her. Is something up?"

Elissa looked up to his face, painted by the lack of sleep but with the familiar lighthearted grin playing in the corner of his mouth. She wanted to walk up to him, hide in his arms and not feel the responsibility on her shoulders, not to have to decide what was either best for them or for anything that was left. Not to have to make this terrible choice, although she already knew what she was going to propose.

"Alistair, we need to talk." She eventually said. Alistair looked wondered but didn't turn his gaze away. Elissa hoped she could only hide the tears that were welling in her eyes.

"Oh. I guess whatever Morrigan had to say, it's big."

"I love you, you know that right." Elissa spoke slowly and for the first time fully grasped what she was going to ask of her beloved. How could she ever convince him to do what was expected of him? Would he even be physically able to with the witch he hated from the bottom of his heart?

"Could you make it sound more ominous?" Alistair casually leaned against the bedpost and despite the severity of the situation, she was struck with a pang of affection for him. "Tell me already."

"What if I told you there was a way to avoid dying tomorrow?" 

She reluctantly explained the dark ritual to him, feeling oddly satisfied when he started to cringe uncomfortably. "You are actually serious? Be killed by the arch demon, or sleep with Morrigan." He helplessly walked up and down the room and his face revealed a look beyond desperation. "How does one make that kind of choice?"

He sat down on the bed and his voice broke when he spoke. "Look, even if I was willing to entertain this idea and I'm not saying I am, is this really what you want me to do?"

Elissa walked up to him and dropped to her knees next to the bed, hiding her face in his lap. "No I do not _want_ you to do this!" She nearly screamed, and she clenched her nails into his calves. "But I can not stand losing you. I will make the sacrifice if the need would arise."

Alistair took her face in his hands and his eyes widened in disbelief. "I will never allow you to do that."

"Neither would I, you wouldn't even get the chance!" Her eyes were fiery but tears streaked across her cheeks. Alistair knew she was telling the truth. She was faster, a master in stealth. By the time he would have dropped his shield to make the final blow, she would have already fed herself to the dragon if it were necessary.

"You don't fight fair!" He raised his voice while he grabbed her shoulders to strengthen his words.

"Neither do they!" They were both surprised by the sound of Elissa's sudden outcry. She took the chance to continue her appeal.

"This isn't a fair fight Alistair. We shouldn't be the only Wardens left in Ferelden, the only ones to slay the arch demon." She closed her eyes and sighed to catch her breath. "I've done enough for the greater good. I can not stand losing you."

Alistair met her eyes and stared in them, trying to drown his sorrows in the depths of green and blue.

He could neither.


	17. The dark ritual

**.17 The dark ritual**

"You need to trust me."

Alistair sighed and spoke softly while he met Elissa's eyes. "I do trust you. If you think this is what is best. I'll do it." He made a sickened noise and Elissa noticed his face turned a pale shade of green. "Where is she? I'd better get this over with before I change my mind."

Elissa smiled sardonically and pushed him back to the bed. "Not so fast, stallion."

Alistair threw her a reproaching look. "Sure, like I'd ever want to sleep with anyone but yourself, let alone that awful Morrigan. I'll want to scrub myself for days after this is over."

"You'd better." Elissa sighed. She secretly enjoyed his objection towards the practice of this ritual. even though she herself was no stranger to lust without love in the past the thought of Alistair in the arms of another woman hurt her immensely. She rested her head on his knee and looked up to his face.

"Alistair, I know you didn't always approve of the knowledge Zevran passed on to me…"

"He taught you how to knock a man out before having your way with them? This would be the time to put it to practice."

Elissa smiled softly and shook her head. "About poisons."

Alistair's eyed widened in surprise. "I guess killing me before shipping me off to Morrigan's bedroom would help too."

Elissa sighed again. She didn't like the prospect of leaving him alone with the witch anymore than he did. Yet she trusted on the solution that just came to mind.

"Before reaching Denerim for the Landsmeet, Zev taught me how to make a strongly hallucogenic draught, to confuse enemies rather than to kill them." She smiled reluctantly while she dug up the small vial from her belongings in her knapsack. She held it between her two fingers, allowing the murky liquid to swirl around in it's container.

"I don't expect it to work miracles," She spoke slowly, contemplating the option again before handing him the draught. Zevran had described his previous usage of the mixture, confusing enemies enough to break them mentally, to toy with them if he would have been inclined so. The thought had seemed cruel to her then, and her practical new view startled her. "But it might help to take your mind off things."

Alistair took the vial from her, uncorked it and drank it in one gulp. He swallowed it all, and the greenish hue on his face seemed to deepen.

"How long before it will work?"

But when he spoke the edges of his vision already started to blur, and Elissa's voice sounded distant while she helped him up, supporting him with her shoulder.

When they reached Morrigan in Elissa's bedchamber, she walked up to them with a determined look. "It would seem your talk is done."

She cocked her head to inspect Alistair's face, which was slightly lolling down. "I'd rather not have you fed him drunk, I insist all his parts work properly when I perform."

Alistair heard Elissa's voice speak and to him it sounded like the tinkling of a bell, although he could hardly understand what she said. He faintly realized he was dropped on the bed and he felt a last tender caress on his cheek. He only fully realized that Elissa's hand rested there after it disappeared.

Footsteps softly died away and for what seemed a minute, Alistair thought he was alone. He only heard a faint rustling noise, the crackling fire, the beating of his heart. A strange tingling sensation ran through his veins and besides the fact that he knew his eyes were open, he felt like he might have been sleeping.

Finally he noticed a stirring at the back of the room. He struggled to lift his head, focusing on the form that had now reached the bed. When he blinked it seemed like the long legs of a spider were stretching over his body, and he felt it's weight shift across the mattress. His breathing started to increase and he was willing to scream at it to go away, if only he knew how to use his tongue.

A dark, raspy voice spoke, and he clenched his eyes shut, not ready to face whatever was preying on him. But the croaking slowly turned into soft tinkling, and he dared to open his eyes.

"You will not hate this quite as much as you believe."

Over him hovered the sweet face of his love. Her honey colored curls tickled his chest and even her breath was sweet and familiar. The dark creature was nowhere to be found, a distant memory. A nightmare, nothing more.

Alistair still felt dizzy but he put all his effort into raising his hand to play with a strand of her hair. "Elissa," He spoke slowly, breathing in her name like it would save his life. The very word lit up the room and chased away the remaining darkness.

"Right." 

The word echoed through the room, once, twice, three times, until only a murmur remained. Alistair then slid off into a sleepless dream.


	18. Denerim under siege

**.18 Denerim under siege**

Their march towards Denerim was rushed, but not nearly fast enough. When the capital city rose behind the hills it was alit. Thick brown clouds of smoke crawled over the lands, and the shrieking of the arch demon in the distance ran chills down Elissa's spine.

Anora had proven more of a maiden in arms than the Wardens would have given her credit for. Dressed in plate she climbed the ruins of what was once a farm in the outskirts of the city, demanding attention from the armies, human, dwarf and elf alike.

"Before us, stands the might of the Darkspawn horde."

When Anora spoke Elissa heard Alistair hold back his chuckle; she had to admit she found the queen's high-pitched voice slightly annoying too.

Both the remaining Wardens had been the center of attention during the entire march; the lost bastard prince and young lady Cousland, the only remaining Wardens in Ferelden. Despite that Alistair did not hesitate to take her hand in his; whether it was to remind her not to laugh in a time dire as this, or to share the thought of what could have been or what was to come, Elissa was not certain.

"But most of all, today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honor their sacrifice!"

On Anora's words they both gave a curt nod, not able to turn their eyes off the screeching dragon-like form of the arch demon that circled over the city. Elissa felt a haunting feeling in her chest that had become familiar to her over the last months; the approaching darkspawn, a warning for danger ahead.

"For Ferelden, for the Grey Wardens!" 

The armies formed position before they broke into a run. The Redcliffe soldiers and the dwarves were eagerly led on by Riordan. The deafening sound of footsteps and the rising dust allowed Alistair and Elissa to exchange a final kiss. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.

The Wardens quickly followed the troops, slowly but surely reaching the frontlines of their assault. Elissa felt the pressing cold in her chest grow while they reached the borders of the city. Denerim had not been able to ward off the attack; the seemingly last survivor was killed just before they stormed the horde.

Regaining the outskirts of Denerim was a fierce but short battle. Preferring each other's company, the travelling companions naturally sought each other out during their greatest darkspawn confrontation to date, supporting one another in a familiar fashion. The horde weren't few in numbers but they seemed a weak opponent against the enraged Warden armies. They fell at blades, axes, arrows and staves alike under the loud outcries of the victorious troops.

But when the culling threat was fended off and they were ready to enter the city, it was time to part company and aim for the arch demon. Elissa and Alistair picked Leliana to come with them, strategically choosing for their best ranged force to watch their backs. Morrigan sided with them without questions asked. Elissa asked Zevran to lead the troops defending the city gates; he jokingly accepted that he was left behind, although his firm hug indicated his feelings went deeper than a casual goodbye.

When the party exchanged their reluctant farewells they strode to the city walls under loud cheering of the remaining army. It was the final stand, their last chance to save Ferelden from being trampled by the darkspawn horde. Elissa drew her blade before leading her companions to battle. She planned to make this last stand count.


	19. The final blow

**.19 The final blow**

When the party eventually stormed the roof of Fort Drakon they were unpleasantly surprised by the slaughter that had taken place. Amidst a massacre of bodies stood the arch demon, a dragon in all it's strength and power, it's one wing cleverly hewn during Riordan's attack. It roared and stretched it's neck towards the Wardens, sensing their presence just like they could sense his.

This was the moment they have been waiting for, an opportunity to face the arch demon, to defeat the blight. During their struggle through the city Riordan's premature sacrifice didn't go unnoticed. It was now up to them to lead their armies to victory during this final stand, two warriors who were the only ones able to slay the dragon that was menacingly spewing black flames across the sea of dead bodies around them.

Elissa braced herself and ran up to the demon, closely followed by Alistair. The struggle that followed was a physical and a mental ordeal all the same; the dragon barely seemed to be budged by their hewing, nor by the spells cast on it by the mages that came to their aid. Elissa noticed Alistair's shield arm slightly hanging down, and she herself was struggling to dodge the beast's neck and tail. How long would they be able to keep this up? Were they really able to finish this horrifying creature? Why wasn't the creature budging?

Just when the horde started to spawn from every outskirt of the castle and all seemed lost, Elissa saw an opening in the dragon's defenses. She jumped when it crouched low to the ground and she managed to cling on to the rough scales with one hand, holding her blade in the other. The beast swung it's neck around but Elissa was able to hang on, eventually letting go to be slung up in the air, only to land blade first on it's horrific head.

The beast cried in defeat, but before it hit the ground Elissa regained her wits and jumped off. Morrigan and Leliana were running towards her in celebration, but Alistair who was a few feet away looked worrisome.

Time seemed to stand still when Elissa locked gazes with Alistair. Her fellow Warden, her friend, her love. She faintly remembered the conversation they had the night before they departed for their final stand.

"But I can not stand losing you. I will make the sacrifice if the need would arise."  
>"I will never allow you to do that."<p>

"Neither would I, you wouldn't even get the chance!"

She saw Alistair step forward, his eyes filled with terror. Elissa softly smiled at him. Then she dropped into a crouch, sprinting towards the arch demon while the sound of his yelling ebbed away. She was right, he didn't stand a chance towards her light-footed speed. The clanking of his armor seemed to fade away in the distance.

While she pulled the massive two-hander from a nearby corpse Morrigan's words echoed in her mind: "Listen to what I offer you, a chance to avoid death." Elissa could only hope that her words would prove themselves to be true, that their effort for Morrigan's dubious ritual wouldn't be in vain. But now she could only count on herself to secure their victory, at all cost.

Elissa was only filled with an overwhelming sense of calling. While she took the final steps towards the dragon she could feel the cold pressure in her chest increase, the sensation of the mother of her mortal enemy so close she could feel the taint throbbing in her veins. The demon was wounded, weakened, but certainly not defeated.

Elissa could see her own reflection in one giant dark eye before she slid to her knees under the creature, hewing it's abdomen open from neck to tail. She felt a warm liquid raining down on her and through the haze that blurred her vision she noticed the blotches of dark purple covering her arms. She remembered the darkspawn blood she drank during her joining, and now she tasted it on her lips, more potent, more powerful than ever. She was overwhelmed by a newfound respect for the demon, barely overshadowed by hatred for all the lives it had taken.

She took a sharp gulp of air before she lifted the sword and planted it in the creature's head with all her might. She felt the tip of the blade break under her power and she looked down at the demon that died under her hands. Elissa felt a certain finality in it's last cringes; it sounded like it drew it's final breath.

A blinding light erupted under her, beaming up at her so powerfully she had to turn her head away. Her eyes searched for Alistair but she didn't know where to look. Elissa felt disorientated at first; the light seemed to enter her eyes, whether she opened or closed them. Soon the light embraced her from every side, blinding her entirely, engulfing her in a storm of white. She could sense every color in it's spectrum; the red, yellow and orange from gazing into the sun on a cloudless day. The violet, green and blue of a haunting sea that was pushing the air out of her lungs, leaving her to drown.

She felt it there and then; her victory wouldn't save her.

When she felt her strength ebb away she thought she would collapse, but instead she felt herself rise, rise until her feet lost contact with the stone underneath them. The blood in her veins started to run even faster, pumping through her arteries with a new fervor. Every heartbeat felt like a throbbing ache and Elissa thought her body could not longer contain the devouring light that now consumed her whole.

It burned her lungs and when she opened her mouth to allow air to run in, light was beaming out, forcing her head backwards with a power she could not fight.

Then the fire erupted from within. Although the light had made her deaf to all sounds she could feel the earth rumble beneath her.

It burned, burned her from the inside until there was nothing left. Elissa didn't feel the pain of her battle wounds, nor the thirst that had bothered her earlier. Was she dead? Then with her, the arch demon must have died as well…

When Alistair opened his eyes he heard the crackling of the stone fortress beneath him. He wished the dust would settle in so he could see her, find her. Elissa had kept her promise; she did succeed in taking the final blow before he could undertake action to do the same. When her final swing reached the arch demon's head she seemed pinned to the ground, unable to release her sword from her target. The explosion that followed must have thrown her back several feet.

An unusual light caught Alistair's attention from the corner of his eye. He ran towards it and found Elissa on her back. Her face was caked with blood and dust, but her skin seemed to glow faintly. It disappeared within seconds and Alistair blinked, wondering whether he had imagined it.

"Elissa, wake up." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently, now and then rubbing the dirt from her face. She didn't move. Did she breathe?

"Elissa!" The sound of his own voice surprised him. Desperation washed over him while he tried to wake her up more forcefully.

"Be careful, she is alive." The voice came from behind him. When he turned around he saw Morrigan looking over her shoulder. "How do you…" Before he could finish his sentence Elissa stirred, taking a deep gulp of air before coughing violently. Alistair helped her up and rubbed her back. "Elissa, my love, are you alright?"

Elissa nodded while she tried to regain her breath. When Alistair looked around to speak to Morrigan, he saw she was gone.


	20. The end of the blight

**.20 The end of the blight**

It took several days for Elissa to recover. Once she was able to leave the enclosures of the Denerim palace that was set up as a temporary hospice for the more prominent wounded, most of the city was cleaned up. The piles of bodies, oppressor and liberator alike, burned in pyres outside the city walls. It's oily smoke drifted south on the wind, relieving the city from the memories of it's ordeals.

Elissa was helped out of bed by Leliana, who together with Alistair barely left her side during her days of recovery. The other companions visited regularly but helped to get Denerim in order for the Coronation. To Elissa's joy and surprise her brother Fergus visited the day before yesterday: He explained about his absence and although Elissa couldn't help but feel a sisterly annoyance about the carelessness in his voice, she was very relieved to see that he was alive.

Leliana helped her in a wooden tub for a bath, prepared by the chambermaids. Elissa appreciated how tenderly she washed her hair and bandaged her wounds inconspicuously so they wouldn't demand attention when she was dressed in her official attire. The precious silks were breathtaking, a welcome change from the armor she wore during her travels.

When Leliana braided strings of pearls in her hair and fuzzed over the beauty of her honey curls, Elissa looked into the mirror propped up on the vanity. Her reflection reminded her of that she used to see during her upbringing at castle Cousland, as a teyrn's daughter. Yet, something was different.

Although she was still in the strength of her youth she felt that her celebrated beauty had slightly faded; her cheeks looked more sallow, her complexion not blushing but slightly blotched by the repeated bruising of her skin in battle.

But in her eyes lay a newfound wisdom, and her lips curled into a satisfied grin when Elissa finally realized that what Duncan said during their travel to Ostagar was right; despite how she felt when she was forced to leave her elderly home, she too had proven herself to be destined for greater things. Not as a noble nor a queen, but as a Grey Warden. After having successfully defeated the blight, she truly felt the path she had chosen was for a good far greater than she could have imagined it to be.

She was shaken up from her thoughts by a gauntleted hand gently caressing her cheek. A familiar deep voice stirred her heart and she smiled before she met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. Alistair looked down at her and his eyes shone brightly.

"Maker, you look beautiful."

Elissa turned around and allowed Alistair to help her up, slightly supporting her for the benefit of her wounded leg. She allowed him to turn her chin from side to side, admiring her looks, kissing the skin where it was bruised, now and then caressing it to make her heart beat faster. Leliana coughed politely, but soon decided to attend the festivities early.

On Alistair's arm she was guided to the great hall where Anora welcomed her with a victory speech. Elissa felt self-conscious when Anora praised her with what seemed the full responsibility for their seemingly impossible victory, which was probably her idea of rewarding her for her support during the Landsmeet. Elissa felt her cheeks glow faintly while she restlessly shuffled her feet.

"Grey Warden, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it only appropriate that I return the favor. As a reward I offer you a boon of your choice."

It didn't take Elissa long to decide. It had crossed her mind several times on her sickbed, and although the reminders of her noble life at the castle were gratifying, she knew it was a life far behind her. Their family's death was avenged by her hands and Fergus would rebuild the estate in Highever. She would always remain a Cousland, a teyrn's daughter. But moreover, she was a Grey Warden.

She answered stately, but with an urgent tone: "The sacrifices of the Wardens should not be forgotten again."

Anora smiled curiously before she spoke. "Then let it be known that the arling of Amaranthine, once the land of arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can be rebuilt, following the example of those who went before them."

For a moment Elissa felt a newfound respect for the queen; she sounded genuinely grateful towards the Grey Wardens, opposed to her father and despite the reputation the order had built over the years. Yet when she asked what her plans were from that moment and that the queen assumed she would stay at court, Elissa smiled.

"The darkspawn are still a threat. The Grey Wardens need me." She exchanged a meaningful look with Alistair. The queen finished her speech and as soon as it was polite to be excused from the spotlight she walked up to Alistair, who was leaning casually against a wall next to the throne.

"So, we made it." He spoke with a grin that never ceased to lighten her heart. "I'm impressed, aren't you?"

Elissa smiled and folded her hands together, as if to remind herself that public displays of affection might not be polite on an official occasion like this. But when he spoke again she found her way to the familiar spot within his arms, sharing a sigh in mutual relief.

"I was so scared that I might lose you. Yet here you are, and here I am."

Elissa nodded and looked up apologetically while she took a step back. Alistair chuckled in approval. Then he continued, and the tone of his voice revealed a barely hidden darkness. "I bet it has something to do with that night."

When he stayed silent, apparently expecting an answer, Elissa could only nod wordlessly. Luckily the ritual escaped his attention for the most part, leaving him to question Elissa about what happened that night during every suitable moment. After her disappearance and because of their mutual dislike towards the witch, the subject of Morrigan wasn't brought up often since they parted ways.

When he spoke again he brought up an entirely different subject.

"Elissa, you just stated that the Grey Wardens needed you."

Alistair scratched the back of his head while he spoke and Elissa couldn't help but escape a giggle on viewing this nervous habit of his. His Grey Warden armor was polished and despite the fact he barely left her sickbed, his face showed signs of a good night rest. She was reminded of the man she met in Ostagar, but his eyes too revealed a deeper wisdom beyond his youthfulness.

He spoke again, slowly. The air suddenly seemed to be filled with suspense. "But that's not entirely true."

Elissa forgot to breathe and she felt blood rise to her cheeks. She nervously repeated his words in her mind. Their duties and path had been entwined from the moment they met, especially when they proved to be the only Wardens left in Ferelden. But now that the culling threat was fought off, could she assume that was still true? Was this a rejection?

Alistair lifted her chin with his bent finger, meeting her eyes with an apologetic smile. "You could only expect _me _ to say this entirely wrong. Elissa, what I mean is that not only the Grey Wardens need you. _I _need you even more."

Elissa took a sharp gulp of air and when Alistair started to grin, she couldn't hold back either. They met in a cheerful chorus of laughter and although she expected that wasn't meant to be the end of his story, she welcomed the waved of joy that relieved the tension in her muscles. There would be plenty of time to talk.

They only remembered they were at the coronation when several curious eyes sought out their company. Fergus, who could have expected as much, seemed brotherly displeased by the visual infatuation the rumored bastard prince held with his sister.

"At any rate," Alistair now whispered, and his head moved closely to Elissa's, "I can't wait to be alone with you. These formal affairs are driving me insane."

Elissa winked and smiled before she turned around, teasingly winking over her shoulder before allowing the soldiers to escort her outside of the hall for her celebration parade.

There would be plenty of time to be alone with her love. Not only today, but for weeks, months and years to come, before their love and the taint would finally consume them whole.

_Thank you for reading this story! As I have mentioned before, this is a re-write of my very first fanfiction. I would have expected more joy in writing this, but during the progress of finishing up I learned not only that my current writing style is different, but also that I get more inspired and gain more pleasure from writing an original story based on the world and characters of Dragon Age, rather than doing an entire recount of the game plot. I even anticipated deleting this story entirely, but I put my mind to it and finished up to provide a prequel to my other fanfiction stories based on the Dragon Age lore._

_I have been playing around with a couple of new ideas and stories to write in my current Elissa universe, which I might start sooner than later. As usual, all your messages and reviews are appreciated!_

_Love, Pani_


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