Author's Note: My apologies to those waiting for an update to my longer story, "The Road Ahead", I was out of town this last week so I fell behind. But I will update early next week. Until then, I hope you enjoy this :)

It was a ghastly experience. Even as she tried to forget, images of the blood mage sacrificing Arlessa Isolde invaded her mind. The blood…the horror…the icy feeling traveling down her spine as she fought her instincts and merely watched… Isolde's young son had fallen victim to a demon that took control of his body, and Isolde demanded to be sacrificed in order to save him. The distraught mother could not be dissuaded, and Kila was astonished that the decision had fallen on her. It seemed that no matter where she went, everyone was more eager to bow down to the authority of the Grey Wardens than to sort matters out for themselves. Filling that need, she found herself repeatedly rising to the occasion, no matter how much the situation horrified her.

Jowan was true to his word and used the life blood from the Arlessa to spare the boy. Being the only other mage among them, it was Morrigan who was sent into the Fade by the ritual. She was put in great danger to battle the demon, but saw there was no reasonable alternative. Connor was spared and the Arlessa died. Teagan was gracious, having stated that everyone other than the Arl Eamon was expendable. Bearing no ill will, he thanked Kila for sparing Connor, and quickly set to work on Arlessa Isolde's arrangements.

The entire trip back to the camp was eerily quiet. Alistair was unusually silent but Kila was hardly surprised. Being in Redcliff and finding his childhood home so broken would give anyone reason for pause. Kila had expected venomous words from Morrigan for being put in such a risky situation, but no such words came. In fact, she couldn't help but notice when Morrigan did address her, it was with a kinder tone than usual. Either Morrigan had been greatly exhausted by the ordeal, or she understood the position Kila was in. Whichever it was, Kila was grateful for any small miracle the Maker sent her way.

Arriving at camp, the ominous feel of the small group did not dissipate, but rather spread to the others. They instinctively knew not to ask. Kila was able to give a quick nod as she strode past everyone to her bedroll. She desperately longed to shrug off the armour that suddenly sat heavily on her weary shoulders. Making the decision between sacrificing an innocent child or a loving mother still made her sick to her stomach. It was done, but it still played over in her mind. Even though it was early she was ready to crawl into her bedroll and try to find relief in sleep.

Much to Kila's surprise however, Alistair approached her. He began pacing, and instantly she felt defensive. There was a great deal of tension between the two, spurred on by Kila's natural distaste for humans…particularly human males.

"Now that we're back at camp, I want to talk about what happened," he started, "At Redcliff."

Despite her feelings, Kila struggled to be compassionate. Alistair had a difficult time dealing with the recent death of his mentor and being witness to another death of someone he knew must be hard. As the leader of the group, it would be up to her to muster words of encouragement. She offered him a smile, "What's on your mind?"

Alistair hesitated for a moment before finally blurting out in a booming voice, "You let Lady Isolde sacrifice herself! With blood magic!? How could you do that?"

Everyone at the camp turned towards the commotion, but quickly tried to focus their attention elsewhere. Alistair may as well have followed his shouting with a slap across the face - Kila felt the sting all the same. The compassion she tried to build for him quickly turned to ice; the tired fog of her mind cleared as the blood quickened in her veins. She shouted back, "So you think I should have killed a young boy instead?!"

"We could have gone to the Circle, we could have tried harder," Alistair narrowed his eyes at her.

"The Circle?? You mean taken days to travel there and back?!" Kila sputtered, "Surely you're joking! Do you not remember the walking corpses that were Redcliff? If we did not rid Connor of that demon one way or another, by nightfall there would have been another attack…and instead of Isolde, we would be sacrificing an entire village of innocents!"

Alistair scowled, mulling her words over. In a quieter tone he pushed, "We…we just could have tried something other than blood magic."

"Yeah…which would be killing Connor," Kila replied hotly, raising her voice, not ready to calm herself.

"I just don't know how you could do that, how you could make that decision…" He matched her raised voice again.

Kila took a step towards Alistair. Bringing herself to her full height she tried to get her face as close to his as she could, "No, of course you don't!! If you did know how to make a decision, you wouldn't defer to me all the time!"

"That's not fair!" he stooped slightly as he yelled back, trying to get to eye level as well.

"Not fair?! Is any of this?" Angrily, she jabbed her finger at his chest, "You can't have it both ways. Either you jump in and take the lead as the senior Grey Warden, or you stand down and deal with the decisions that I make."

Alistair paused for a long moment and straightened up slightly. He took a deep breath and replied, "This is the Arl and his family we're talking about here. It's just…I owe the Arl more than this."

"Oh ho," she hooted excitedly, not acknowledging his attempt at deescalating their shouting match, "So this isn't even about me?? This is about you and him?!"

"No…well maybe. I don't know," he sighed. "But I suppose it's done now…"

The realization of him being angry with himself should have calmed her. It should have struck some sort of maternal cord in her even. At the very least, his deflated tone should have calmed her anger somewhat. However, it just infuriated her further.

Outraged she shoved him hard. Taking him by surprise he stumbled back a step before catching himself. Having already backed down, the hurt and confusion showed on his face.

"I am not your punching bag human," she shrieked. Alistair stiffened at being called a human. She rarely threw that word around. "I try to be patient with you, help you through Duncan's death, and this is the thanks I get? You think this is easy?!"

He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off quickly, "Ugh, forget it. The next time you get the urge to speak to me just…don't!"

Angrily, she spun away and started tearing at her armour straps. Her leather gauntlets came off easily and she hurled them down onto her bedroll, leaving Alistair awkwardly standing behind her and feeling the eyes of his campmates on him.

"I guess I'm the one being the ass here," his words had a hint of sarcasm too them, but he quickly added, "I'm just going to end this before I do more than shove my foot in my mouth like an idiot."

Kila pinched the bridge of her nose, but refused to turn around, "Human, you best be gone by the time I turn around. Fellow Grey Warden or not…"

Alistair's shoulder's fell. He had gone from feeling bad to worse with no way of making it better. Wringing his hands anxiously, he turned and left the elf in peace.