Whoever had thought that trekking across Ferelden was a good idea had clearly been mad; and Elissa had no intention of claiming such a dubious honour. Days of walking and it still did not seem that they were any closer to Lothering. Then again, she was unaccustomed to travelling any great distance on foot, let alone carrying her own supplies into the bargain.

Still, the one advantage to the monotonous journey was the effect it appeared to be having on her fellow Grey Warden. Her superior, she supposed; though Alistair had shown he was more than content to follow her lead. That might change once he shook himself from his melancholy, but for the moment she had accepted the responsibility with little more than an obligatory protest. Besides, the dull memory of her own grief—kicked to the back of her mind in the desperate hope that it might be forgotten—helped to shore up the patience she had for Alistair. Whatever else Duncan had been to him, the man clearly held importance for the young recruit and while she did not know how to address his loss directly, Elissa often deflected the stinging barbs which Morrigan was all too ready to throw in his direction.

When they stopped to make camp for the night, Elissa would have happily dropped down on the ground and not moved until dawn. Hard experience, however, had taught her that no matter how sweet those first few hours of rest were, without a fire she would spend the remainder of the night wide awake, shivering, and cursing her laziness. So she had indicated that Alistair was to join her in the search for firewood while the Mabari was to remain and guard the Witch and their belongings. The dog had given a whine at the order but one firm glare in his direction had silenced the protest. It was true Morrigan had little patience for the creature but she was significantly kinder to the Mabari than she was to Alistair, and for all she was a fabled Witch of the Wilds, the thought of just abandoning her in some remote corner of the swamp while they fetched kindling did not sit well with the new Warden.

Yet as weariness caused her feet to drag through the undergrowth, Elissa rather regretted her noble intentions. The Mabari could have guided her right back to camp but as it was, she was left to scan the trees and thistle bushes ahead of her, searching for the trampled undergrowth which she and Alistair had trodden from the camp. It was a task which was not aided by the growing gloom, and eventually she stumbled to a halt.

With a grunt, Alistair lurched to one side in an attempt to avoid walking into her. "Elissa? What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Her voice was too high but Maker help her, she could not admit that she was lost.

"Right," he drew the word out, and she could feel his stare boring into the back of her head. "Well, are you going on, then?"

"I was waiting for you," she huffed, tightening her arms around the bundle of sticks she was carrying as she threw a disdainful glance over her shoulder. "Hurry up, won't you?"

His face fell. "I'm following you!"

A little pang of guilt pricked at her conscience. She had not intended him to take the rebuke quite so personally. "Well, come on then." She stole a fraught glance around the landscape in front of her before committing to carrying straight on and hoping for the best. "This way."

Alistair fell into step with her, adjusting his long stride to match her shorter one, and she risked a sidelong glance in his direction. His forehead was furrowed and his brows drawn into a pensive if unseeing stare.

Another stab of guilt goaded her into scrabbling about for some kind of conversation which might shake him from his gloom. "So... tell me about the Grey Wardens."

"Such as they are."

She threw a look skywards. Bad choice. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

Alistair shrugged.

Her patience at an end, Elissa gave up any further attempt to engage with him and instead concentrated on her surroundings. She could not remember having passed by that misshapen trunk but the stagnant pool to her far left seemed familiar. At least, she thought it did. No, the slime covered rock had been on the other side of the rotten branch. Hadn't it?

Oh Maker; she was most definitely lost.

Throwing the bundle of sticks to one side, Elissa ground to a stop beside the rotten tree trunk and kicked at the dirt beside it. Damp but not especially disgusting, it was better than the thought of continuing to traipse through this endless wood. She sank onto the ground with a small grunt, remarking tersely, "I need to sit down."

Alistair made no comment but obediently set his armful of kindling next to her abandoned pile. Scoping out the ground around his feet, he found a suitable patch a few yards from her and dropped down, keeping his head bowed.

Drawing her legs up against her chest, Elissa rested her chin on her knees as she attempted to weigh up what she should do. The uncomfortable silence stretching between them was clearly unsettling Alistair though. He reached into the money belt he carried and drew out what looked like a small worry token, demonstrating a surprising amount of dexterity as he played it through his fingers.

The repetitive movement was a welcome distraction from mulling over her very limited options and Elissa cleared her throat.

"Tell me about that, then."

Alistair gave a start. "What?"

She waved a hand towards the token.

"This?" His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "It's nothing much. I just liked the design on it." He held the token up between his forefinger and thumb and held it out to her so that she could make out the worn etchings on it. "Runes." His gaze lifted to meet hers. "Do you know much about them?"

Elissa shook her head.

"Neither do I, really. There's so much to know and I've only scratched the surface." There was a brief pause before he gave a weak chuckle at the unintended pun.

She felt her mouth curve in reciprocation of his lightened mood and she arched an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue.

Catching sight of the gesture, he gave a small shrug. "I studied them a little during my time in the Chantry. Probably should have concentrated more on how to defend against a mage rather than being able to recognise what runes they carved on their staffs." At that, he flashed another grin in her direction; one that was not crooked.

Her smile widened, pleased to see the shadows chased from his face, and she gestured at the token again. "So, what does that rune mean?"

"It's difficult to tell," he replied slowly, bringing the token up to his nose and squinting at its surface.

Elissa bit back a giggle as she watched him go cross-eyed. Hearing the muffled sound however, the frown resurfaced on his features as Alistair shot her a disgruntled look, mistaking her amusement as a sign of derision.

"Your eyes..." she babbled, but seeing his gaze beginning to lower and his hand move to secret the token away, she hastily widened her eyes while focusing on the end of her nose. "See?"

Her demonstration shook free a chortle from Alistair. "Oh. Right."

"Go on." She blinked rapidly as she looked back towards him. "Why's it difficult to tell?"

"It's worn down. It was like this when I found it. But," he gazed down at the token in his palm, "I think it might be intended for healing. Morrigan might know but, well, you know..."

"I know," Elissa nodded. "Maybe get someone to enchant something with it."

"What if it's dangerous?"

His question prompted a peal of laughter from the woman before she stretched across and patted at his knee. "I doubt it could be more dangerous than chasing after an Archdemon." Retracting her arm, she pulled at the cord of the small pouch she kept on her belt and retrieved a small white stone nestled next to the few coppers loitering inside. Holding it out to him, she tapped her finger at the gold writing decorating one side. "Is this a rune?"

Alistair accepted the stone, poring over it with interest. "Yes. At least, I think so. Wow, where'd you find it?"

She shrugged. As practical as it was, she had noticed that Alistair did not always approve of her more mercenary tactics when it came to sifting through the belongings of corpses. And if the small stone would cheer him up then she had no intention of souring the effect with the truth. "Amazing what you find on the road if you keep your eyes open."

Absorbed in studying the symbol, there was no sign that he had heard her. Rather than disturb him, Elissa seized on the opportunity to sneak a last desperate look around in the vain hope that the path back to camp might have miraculously revealed itself.

No such luck.

She sighed, finally conceding that she needed to admit the truth to her companion. "Alistair. I think we're lost."

"Hm? Oh, I know," he mumbled, still intent on examining the white stone. "The camp is back that way," he jerked his head in some vague direction behind them. "You skirted around it when you were avoiding the thistle patch."

Her mouth fell open. "You knew?" Humiliation turned to indignation and she scrabbled back up onto her feet, looming over him as she scolded. "Maker's breath! Why would you do that? Why didn't you say something instead of letting me walk past!"

"I would have if you'd kept walking much further..." Alistair stared up at her, face falling. "I just... didn't want to embarrass you."

"Oh!" she spun on the ball of her foot, stamping a few steps from him as she threw her hands in the air. "Because this is so much better!"

"Well, yes. Wouldn't you rather we were walking towards camp, rather than away from it? Now we will be."

Faced with such undeniable logic, Elissa let out a weary groan, rolling her head backwards so she could stare up into the tree canopy. Behind her, there were clinks and clunks of armour as Alistair found his feet. Not that she could blame him for preferring to stand; her behaviour had been uncalled for. She had no right to try and intimidate him like that.

"Hey." The word was tentative, as though he was unsure what response it might elicit, but there was no resentment in his voice. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything..."

"It's not your fault," she interrupted, unable to keep the irritation from her voice as much as she tried to. "I'm the one who got us lost."

"We're not lost. We're scouting the area for potential threats."

Elissa stiffened. Unsure that she could believe what she was hearing, she twisted at the waist so that she could level an incredulous stare at the man. "Oh really?"

He offered her another crooked grin, accompanied with a shrug of his shoulders. It seemed the two went together. "You mean that's not what we're doing?"

The tension in her body began to ease and she shifted position, turning to face him fully. After a few moments of studying him intently, she allowed a self-conscious smile to creep across her face. "Of course we are. What, did you think I was lost?"

Alistair chuckled. "See?" Stooping to pick up both bundles of firewood, he continued, "and if Morrigan does say anything, just tell her I needed to talk about Ostagar." A small sigh escaped from him while he adjusted his stance so that the firewood was collected under one arm. "She'll probably just roll her eyes."

"Alistair?"

He raised his head. "What?"

"If you do want to talk, about Ostagar, then I'll listen. What happened at Highever..." a tremor in her voice forced her to stop and she cleared her throat. She was determined not to allow herself to wallow. Acknowledging it would only distract her; if she ignored it long enough then it would vanish eventually, she was certain of it. "I'm here to listen."

"I know," he gave a slow nod. "Just, not yet. Maybe soon, though?" He held out the white stone to her. "Here. Thanks for letting me look at it."

Elissa shook her head, pushing his hand back against his chest. "You keep it. What do I know about runes? If you discover anything interesting though then let me know."

He hesitated before accepting the small gift. "Thanks."

"It's nothing," she shrugged, though his gratitude warmed her. "Come on then, show me the way back."

With Alistair taking the lead, it was a straightforward matter to return to the small clearing that was to be their camp for the night. Nearing the edge of it, Alistair suddenly slowed his pace and dropped behind her, allowing Elissa to lead them the last of the distance.

Morrigan greeted their return with a customary snipe, looking past Ethe other woman so that she could eye Alistair coldly. "T'would be wise if in future, I did not consent to sending the one hope this country has into the woods with only a dolt for protection."

"Actually," Elissa spoke up, pretending to be absorbed in making a fuss of her hound as he bounded up to greet her, "I got lost. If it wasn't for Alistair, I'd still be wandering around out there."

"Such admissions do not inspire confidence, Warden."

Elissa forewent a remark in favour of sneaking a sideways glance at Alistair. He was busying himself with preparing the firewood so that it was ready for Morrigan to light with her fire spell but Elissa was certain that the corner of his mouth was twitching.

Apparently getting lost was good for morale.