A.N.: Yessss... This story isn't quite dead yet so here it is, yet another chapter. Yup, I'm not giving up that easily, hopefully I haven't alienated the readers of this story with my hiatus... hopefully I'll manage to pick up my pace once more (: enjoy.


After blacking out, it seemed like only a moment had passed before I woke up again. I opened my eyelids, feeling as if they were made of lead, as a ruckus made of shadows and undistinguishable voices enveloped me. I could feel my body being rocked softly, someone's arms under me, holding me against them. It wasn't until I was laid down on a somewhat soft surface that I finally allowed my eyes to open fully.

Looking farther from where I came, I could see exiting the inn a limping Leliana leaning for support on Zevran, her robes covered with blood and Zevran's face seemingly scratched. I could feel a familiar presence next to me and yet I did not fully register who it was even after I had laid eyes on him.

"Stay down, little sister."

"Fergus...?"

I could now clearly see my brother kneeling next to me, his hand carefully holding my head as he reached a small waterskin to my lips. I allowed some of the liquid to slide down my throat, the effort of parting my lips feeling like it was more than I could handle.

"Where is-"

"The King is safe. Don't worry."

Even despite not being able to see Alistair, Fergus' words brought me a kind of reassurance I could only expect from my brother. He was family. He was home. He had saved me.

Another presence soon approached me, a familiar hand cupping my chin and lifting it to look at me. Zevran had kneeled next to me as well, while Fergus said something to him that I couldn't quite understand and stood up to address his men. The elf had long scratches that had traces of dried blood that went from his face down to his shoulder, only adding up to his earlier injuries. He leaned forward to examine me further and I could see him flinch as he did.

"You should get that fixed."

"You're one to talk, my fair Warden."

"Erline?"

"She's fine, tougher than she looks."

"And Oghren...?"

"Also fine. Don't..." He stopped mid sentence and looked straight into my eyes, his thumb lightly caressing my cheek. He turned his head away, to look at something I could not see, returning his eyes to me soon afterwards.

"Rest. None of us are in great shape but we all made it. Don't worry, for a second. Just rest."

The smell of burning flesh reached my nostrils and I instinctively covered my mouth to avoid my innards from spilling out. I could now see I was laying on a makeshift straw bed, put together on a wooden cart. Zevran sat against the border of the cart and allowed me to rest my head on his lap. I was trying desperately to control my gag reflex while the revolting stench seemed to envelop me. Zevran grabbed the waterskin Fergus had left behind, tore off some fabric from his now tattered tunic and poured some water on it, covering my face with it, allowing me to breathe slightly better and to let my stomach settle.

"We were lucky your brother arrived when he did. There were quite a few of... those things. They're burning the corpses now."

My breathing was now steady and I could not sense the smell that had revolted me so, as much as before. I wanted to thank Zevran, for trusting me, for being there, even when I asked him to turn his back on me. I reached upwards, grabbing his arm and he looked down at me, his expression inscrutable. I opened my lips, trying to let out the words but they never came as I soon felt the darkness overcoming me once more and all the noise and chaos turned to nothing.

My limbs felt pinned under heavy covers as I pulled my arms from under them and stretched them above my head. I didn't try to stifle a yawn that overcame me and I blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness that filled the room. I could see a hint of light shining under the door but even with the curtains closed over the window on the far wall, I could tell it was most likely night time.

How long had I been sleeping? There was no way of knowing without leaving the bed but sleep seemed to keep me in shackles as it was proving to be quite difficult to muster the courage to crawl out of it. This drowsiness almost overcame the sense of urgency I felt, the realization that I had probably lost more days than I should filling my thoughts. I pushed the covers away but remained laying down, my mind wandering between thoughts of Morrigan and of my companions.

I finally made the decision to actually get myself out of bed and threw my legs to the side, trying to sit up while trying to stifle the pain inflicted by the bruises on my body. I immediately thought of Alistair, of how he was and the horrible pessimist in me thought right away that perhaps everything wasn't alright. He had lost a lot of blood... but there was no way of knowing for sure how he was when I had been sleeping for... Maker knows how long. I tried to rid myself of such thoughts and got up, stretching myself in the tips of my toes, feeling all of my muscles tightening and almost as if they were stiffened.

I walked slowly to the armoir that stood tall on the right of the bed, recognizing the old wooden frame as I lightly touched its door with my fingers. This was not my old room but this piece of furniture was most definitely a part of it. Not wanting to wander in what would surely be less than pleasant thoughts, I tried to empty my mind by quickly grabbing the handle and opening the door. Inside were, as I thought, some carefully hung clothes, a magnificent dark blue velour dress, a pair of linen trousers and a loose shirt. I looked at the hanging clothes and then at the robe carefully folded at the bottom and ended up deciding to slip on the shirt and trousers. I was going for a walk, not a ball and to wear a dress felt so out of place... when before it was very much a second skin.

I stepped outside of the room and looked over the long hallway. The stony walls of Highever still stood as I remembered them, the same weathered stones covered with large tapestries, with a few new cracks and dents here and there that were testament to the events that had occurred between them, both good and bad. I had not bothered to put on any shoes, so the floor felt uncomfortably cold but I tried not to let it bother me. I was more than thrilled to be up and about and I was not willing to go back to search for shoes. It felt almost childlike in a way, familiar even... I cherished the shivers the cold floor gave me.

After the first turn, I saw a couple of guards standing in front of Fergus' room. Or what used to be his room. I approached him slowly, half surprised, half curious. As soon as I approached the door, apparently far too close for comfort, the taller guard on the right straightened his posture and leaned his pike ever so slightly forward.

"His Majesty is not to be disturbed."

I raised an eyebrow at the man and looked straight at his eyes that were looking straight alright... straight past me. He did not even spare me a glance before straightening his weapon before himself. I placed my hand on my hip and looked at the man, wondering why he did not recognize me. I most likely looked like nothing but a commoner in my clothes, but surely they should know who I was? The guard on the left though, stared at me nervously, glancing at his partner from time to time.

"His Majesty is resting here?" I asked, leaning forward to see if I could manage to get some eye contact with the taller man.

"Yes he is. Not to be disturbed."

"Ordered by whom?"

"By Teyrn Cousland."

As soon as Fergus was mentioned, the guard on the left began fiddling with his fingers in a nervous fashion, looking like he was considering whether or not he should poke the other man with his pike, to get his attention.

"Angus..."

"And Teyrn Cousland's orders are to be followed. Therefore, no disturbances."

" Angus..."

"And that's that."

"Angus!"

"What?"

The man on the right finally lost his composure and turned to the other guard, raising his voice slightly higher than necessary and looking like every single drop of blood on his body had gathered on his face.

"Angus..." The shorter man looked at me and nodded towards my way. "That's Lady Ariadne Cousland. You know. The Teyrn's sister..."

The taller man looked at me slowly, frowning before all color disappeared from his face.

"I-I apologize my lady, I-"

"It's all right." I tried to stifle a smile, not being able to stop myself from being amused by the man's sudden embarrassment. "Can I...?"

Neither of the men uttered a single word, merely opening the door for me as the taller man, who appeared to be the very personification of authority before, now seemed to shrink at my passage. I tried to smile gently and to stop my chuckling. I then closed the door behind me and stopped all reaction. The room was fairly lit by a few candles, although the light still barely shone through the entire room. I could see a form lying in the poster bed, a few shadows forming on it as the flames danced above it.

The breath that had been caught on my throat was soon released when I saw that the figure that laid dormant seemed to be merely sleeping peacefully, as his chest rose steadily. A took a few steps forward, the shadows teasing me, not allowing me to fully see his face until after I was by the side of the bed. Alistair still looked deathly pale, the orange light of the candles only enhancing the lack of color on his cheeks. But still, despite his apparent weakness, he looked alive. Even as I worried, even as the most morbid of thoughts crossed my mind as I recalled back to when we had found him back at the inn... I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my chest and now I was free to breathe again.

I slowly stretched out a hand, eager to touch his cheek, but almost afraid that in his frailty, he would disappear if I touched him. A loud noise behind me made my hand recoil and I turned around startled to see what had just happened. Erline stood at the door, trying to blow away her hair from her face with impatient puffs while she desperately tried to keep the dozen of vials, poultices and jars she held on her skirt, from shattering on the floor. I ceased the cue and ran over to the young elf to help her, grabbing a few of the containers that seemed to dangle a bit dangerously over the edge of the crumpled fabric.

She let out a sigh as she managed to carefully place all of the flasks over the large dark nightstand that sat on the left side of the bed, laying them out orderly as she muttered to herself, all the while she chewed on her pinky finger. When I joined her by the nightstand and laid out the flasks I had caught, she smiled to me, underneath her rebellious strands of her.

"Glad to see you up and running."

"Your doing, I recon?"

She nodded and pulled a roll of bandages from within her sleeve, ripping up a part of it which she then soaked with a dark green liquid.

"Even with all the blood he lost, he's doing quite well. He'll have to eat plenty once he wakes up though."

"I don't think that'll be a problem... by the way, did you have any trouble getting in here?"

"Did you?"

"Well... Ah... well... I guess-"

I chuckled at her seeming embarrassment and leaned against the wall opposite of the bed.

"Nevermind. It was sort of funny actually... in a kind of a sad way." I gave her a shy smile and then allowed it to open further. Erline had now turned to tend to the exposed wound of Alistair's arm, carefully rubbing an ointment soaked cloth on it. The scars on her arms were peeking from underneath her sleeves but despite what they could possibly mean, the reality that I might not be alive anymore if it weren't for this girl was enough to overshadow whatever her marks meant.

"For someone who seemed to have such a lack of confidence in herself, you seem to be quite proficient when it comes to healing."

Erline's eyes shot up at me and her face seemed to flush a bit, her fingers clumsily wrapping the fresh bandages around Alistair's arm.

"Well... I believe I have mentioned this... that I read a lot. And healing... it's, it's one of those things that when it comes to magic..." She glanced sideways at me and offered a slight smile that seemed to last for only a second. "Well, there's less of a chance of setting your chambers on fire."

"It seems to me you did good then. We need to find what we're good at and... well, despite you probably protesting otherwise, your magic has saved us more than once. I owe you a lot of thanks."

Erline remained silent, turning to the nightstand where she had all of her containers lined up, apparently stirring one of the larger ones where a clear blue concoction was.

"Alistair... he means a lot to me. And if it weren't for you..." My words were caught in my throat, as Erline did not run to face me but froze where she stood. I took a step forward and placed my hand on her shoulder, ever so lightly, almost as if trying to gain her trust once more.

"You don't need to thank me." Her voice suddenly resonated through the silent room. "You saved me as well. Gave me a new opportunity. I'm doing what is right."

This time, Erline smiled broadly at me, small dimples forming on her cheeks as she genuinely smiled not only with her lips, but with her eyes as well. She brushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes and poured some of the liquid she had been stirring, carefully, down Alistair's throat. He instantly coughed for a moment before settling down once more on the bed, sleeping as peacefully as before. While trying to settle Alistair, I could see once more the deep markings on Erline's arms, pure ivory marred by scars made for some obscure purpose. Despite my trust in her, my curiosity was too big to ignore.

"Erline... you're from Nevarra, right?"

The elf did not answer me but she did give me a quizzical look, looking as if she was half dreading what I could ask of her.

"Yes..."

"What is it like?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, rubbing a finger along her eyebrow as she looked away from me, pensively.

"I'm from Cumberland... not too cold, although the breeze from the sea often makes it colder than it is in the capital. There are glittering gardens, our heroes have statues adorned with flowers in every square. The tower... it glimmers when the sun is high, alabaster and gold." She lowered her eyes and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her pointed ear. "It is a beautiful nation, people sing to feel happy, to make others happy, to share their gift, the gift of song, of painting, of tapestry. And the smell... nothing like Ferelden. Flowers and salt from the water..."

"It sound like it's beautiful."

"It is."

"Then why did you leave?"

Instinctively, Erline tugged on her sleeves and folded her arms over chest, glancing towards the door and then to Alistair, as if to make sure that despite his presence, we were the only ones truly in that room.

"I know why you ask me this. I know what you think of me, of what your companions think. But I'm not that!" She took a deep breath and lowered her voice.

"I know that these" Erline pulled up her sleeves and bared her arms to me. "brand me as such, but I am not a blood mage. I... I do not wish to speak of this but I can assure you... I am no such thing."

I walked towards Erline and grabbed her hands, cold and damp as they were, nodding to her. Despite wanting to hear more, I was not going to force her to tell me anything and I was already satisfied with her "confession". I did not want to doubt her, not this young girl that seemed to have been forced to fled the world that she seemed loved so much, only to be left alone and lost, as we found her. I had given far more opportunities to others before her, so why not to this young elf? She squeezed my hands as well and sighed, turning to the nightstand once more as she picked up her poultices and walked towards the door.

"You do not need to thank me. If I do this, it is because I want to. It's the least I can do."

With this, she left, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone in the room with Alistair, who slept as if nothing had just happened within those four walls. It amazed me to see that only a while after Erline's ministrations, some color had already returned to his cheeks, his deathly pale look more and more gone as time passed by. I leaned in and kissed him lightly on his cheek, leaving quickly before I changed my mind and could not force myself away from him.

I nodded at the guards and walked back to my room, thinking nothing of it as I simply opened the door and stepped inside, the feeling of the nearby rug underneath my feet being more than welcome. As my eyes turned to the back of the room, I was slightly startled as I noticed a shadowed figure sitting on the chair next to the, now, unlit fireplace. The figure stood up and took a few steps forward, his voice familiar and coupled with the sight of golden hair, I immediately realized who it was.

"My my... you wake up and I'm not the first person that you go to see. I'm heartbroken, my fair Warden. Part of it due to your very inappropriate attire. I was expecting something else, something sheer... but I guess one has to work with what they have."

Zevran grinned at me, and leaned against the poster bed, eyeing me up and down as it was now the norm. Even so, it never failed to make me feel slightly uncomfortable, even with my less than attractive choice of outfit. Now, even more so, despite his lecherous attitude being more than usual. I couldn't help but feel, especially with all that had happened lately, that this could be another of his carefully woven facades. Or maybe not.

I sat on the edge of the bed and laced my fingers together, looking at Zevran, half expecting another witty retort. But my silence's only result was to have seriousness falling upon his features, all traces of his grin vanished with a slight raise of his eyebrows when he saw that I did not even smile at his remarks.

"How is our regent? Alive, I reckon?"

"Yes... Erline's been taking care of him."

"He's not awaken yet?"

"No."

Zevran chuckled to himself and glanced upwards, only to have his eyes fall on me once more.

"Quite typical of Alistair, no? To jump madly into harm's way and then sleep half way through the battle. He's as useful as always."

"Zevran?"

"Yes?"

"Stop."

His lips pursed slightly, as the elf looked less than happy at my order, if you could call it that. One of his favorite hobbies was to ridicule Alistair and while most of it passed by me... now? Having seen him at death's door, I was simply not in the mood to hear it.

"You said before that he was not to accompany us on our journey." His voice once more cut through the silence. "You do realize that if you do something like... I don't know, leaving him here, he will follow you like a lost puppy?"

I rubbed my eyes and held my chin on my palm, taking in every intricacy of the carved handle of the room's door.

"I know. I-" I breathed deeply and bit my lip. "I don't want to think about it right now."

"Well, you will have to at some point. We can't let the Grey Warden Commander put herself in danger every time our king decides to do something foolish. We were lucky that-"

"That, due to a fluke of fate, my brother arrived to rescue us?"

"Yes, that."

"Zevran... were you worried?"

I looked directly at the assassin and, despite of his constant mask that he held up to hide his emotions and reactions, I could see that he was caught off guard and that his mask had slipped, if only ever so slightly.

"We all were."

"I don't see a crowd in here, telling me off."

This time, it was his turn to remain silent, although he did not avert his gaze even once. I rose up and walked towards the closed window, the air within the room seemed as if it were getting heavier and I need a breath of fresh air. I stopped half way through opening the window when Zevran's voice once more hit my ears.

"Despite how nice the night is, you should rest. I shall leave you now."

I did not turn to bid him good night, but I felt his presence closing in on me and my muscles tensed. I stared as hard as I could, at the moon, silver and full. The warmth from his hands hovered above my shoulders and I did not dare to breathe, fearing that doing so would make my body move and touch his. He was merely inches away from me and I suddenly felt his breath on my cheek.

"I would never do anything to harm you."

The softness of his lips caressed my cheek, as they lay there far longer than necessary. I was like stone, not moving one inch, forcing my eyes to remain where they were, to still myself and to wish him away. Zevran finally withdrew, his hands, despite never touching my flesh, left me as well. I did not hear his voice again and only when I heard the door shutting, I let go of the breath I was holding within my lungs and leaned on the window pane for support. Despite feeling exhausted, I would not sleep. But what else could I do?