Elizabeth paused at the sight of the smoke touching the horizon, her worry openly worn. Pyres? The Keep itself? Elizabeth was unsure. After a fitful night's camp, Elizabeth and the others left the Dragonbone Wastes and began their journey back to Vigil's Keep. Uncertainty circled the group; no one spoke of what they might find when returning home. No one really spoke at all, not even Anders.

Which was worse? Knowing and regretting or not knowing and delusion? Coward was not one of the mantles she wore. She had to know.

Oghren walked at her side. He had been there during some of her darkest hours. "I'm sure he's fine," he said.

"Fergus has just been through so much..."

Oghren snorted, "Yeah, I'm sure he's fine too."

Two hours later the group approached the broken gates to Vigil's Keep. The large and imposing wooden gate was no more. The main structure itself, however, was in tact. For the first time in two days, Elizabeth felt a bit of relief. The damage was extensive but not complete. They could rebuild.

The smoke in the skyline had been from the funeral pyres. An image from the past painted in the future, she thought back to the siege upon her arrival to Vigil's Keep. Like then, families watched on, waiting quietly to send their loved ones to the next life.

The people of Amaranthine lived. The people of Vigil's Keep did not. This had been the choice Elizabeth made. She could not regret her decision, but it left her hollow all the same. There was no victory to be claimed in so much innocent death. If sparing the Architect could at all bring an end to such slaughter…

She heard Fergus before she saw him. Her brother yelled out her name as he bounded down the stone stairwell leading into the interior of Vigil's Keep. His arm in a sling, he looked otherwise unharmed. The first smile in two days took hold of her mouth and she embraced her brother, holding a touch too tightly against her, causing him to yelp out in pain.

Apologetic, she relented, but did not release him. "What happened?"

"They came hours…" An admonishing gaze punctuated, "After you left."

Elizabeth recognized that look all too well and Fergus could chastise her further later. Not now, not when she didn't yet know…

"How many," her gaze drifted toward the pyres, "died?"

"They are still finding some of the dead." The elation of their reunion crumbled. Sadness commanded Fergus' expression. "Some of my men." He let out a heavy sigh. "The taint and others in battle."

Those were the not the people she wished to hear about. You are a horrible person, Elizabeth Cousland. Her chin sank. Guilt gnawed at her stomach along with her previous worry. Those dead mattered to someone. They mattered to her brother. He was the one that would have to tell their families they would not be returning home.

"Let me take you to Nathaniel."

Her head lifted, eyes finding her brother. Fergus always knew how to know just what she was thinking. Elizabeth hated and loved that about him. "He's…"

"…recovering. Poison on a dagger almost killed him but Zevran was able to make an antidote. He's weak but fine." Fergus shot a glance toward Anders. "Maybe even better if your mage sees to him."

Anders scoffed, indignant, "Her mage?"

Elizabeth held up a hand to Anders, a signal for him to calm down. Fergus meant no insult. "Yes," she responded to Fergus. "Take me to him." The worry that ghosted her thoughts dissipated. Zevran was fine. Nathaniel was fine. "Tell me everything that happened."

As they wound their way through the halls of the keep toward Nathaniel's room, Fergus told Elizabeth of the battle, of the darkspawn that spilled in, of the ogres and terrors he hoped to never witness again, of the way Nathaniel organized and commanded the forces upon the field, and, finally, of the way Nathaniel saved his life when he thought himself death for certain.

As they paused just outside Nathaniel's room, Fergus added, "He is…" He scratched at the back of his neck, face drawn into a grimace. "…not so bad, I guess."

"No, he is not," Elizabeth agreed as she opened the door.

Fergus excused himself with a squeeze of his sister's shoulder before leaving Elizabeth and Anders to tend to Nathaniel.

Her fingers coiled around the edge of the door as she lingered within the entry for a pause. Nathaniel sat atop the bed. Dark circles framed his eyes and a weariness shadowed his features. He had never looked better to Elizabeth or so she thought. A lazy smile curved upon his mouth at the sight of her and she found herself corrected. Now, he had never looked better.

With a glance over her shoulder, she beckoned Anders into the room. "See to his wounds," she ordered while stepping aside to grant the mage entry.

"Yes, let your mage see to his injuries," Anders drolled sarcastically, still smarting from Fergus' earlier remark.

Finger and thumb pressed against the bridge of Elizabeth's nose and she let out an irritated sigh. Another time she might have massaged Anders' ego, but not now. She was simply too tired.

"I'm fine, Anders," Nathaniel protested. Before Elizabeth could object, Nathaniel added, eyes fixed upon hers, "Really. I'm much better now."

Anders looked between Elizabeth and Nathaniel and rolled his eyes. "Andraste's knickers. You break him, you buy him," he said. His hands pressed into his hips. With a sigh, he added before turning to leave, "I mean it. I'm going to take a hot bath and eat a pie or four."

The door shut behind Anders leaving Nathaniel and Elizabeth alone.

Decorum was forgotten at the click of the door. Elizabeth's weapons tumbled to the ground and she was upon Nathaniel. Breathing. Real. Her hands cupped at the sides of his face, eyes intent upon his. Though exhaustion weighed down his features, a lightness floated upon his lips. He was happy to see her and she him. To see was not the same as to feel. Their kiss was not gentle; its press too urgent, too insistent. Her body melded into his, the length of his arms wrapping about her and pulling her down upon the bed. That she still wore her armor hardly mattered.

"... I had thought..." The words nothing more than a whisper, spoken at the break of their kiss, her brow set against his.

"I had though the same," he confessed, relief and something more heated suffusing his tone. Neither of them had been correct and never had being wrong felt better. "Is it..."

"Over?" She nodded, "I think it is. There was a broodmother. I killed her."

"Good." Fingers searched out the pins that held her hair in place.

Elizabeth sat up, her freed hair spilling over her shoulders. Her own hands began to work the buckles and fasteners of her armor. "Thank you for watching after Fergus."

They worked quickly and in tandem to free Elizabeth of her cuirass. The question came as her chest armor fell to the ground. "My sister.. is she?"

"Fine, Nathaniel." Her greaves came next and then boots; each piece added to the pile upon the floor.

Freed of her armor, Nathaniel drew Elizabeth back the bed once again and upon her back. The weakness he still felt in his limbs, the low but steady thrum of pain that echoed along his leg, neither mattered as he rolled to her side. His sister was fine. Elizabeth was fine.

"She is remarkably difficult to kill. I would know; I tried," Zevran told Nathaniel. He wanted to believe the assassin, to trust in his words and let them bring comfort. The comfort did not come until he saw her standing within the doorway to his room.

Sending Anders away was an easy choice.

The time he had recovering from his injury gave Nathaniel time to think and consider his feelings for Elizabeth. The level of concern and worry he felt while waiting on her to return was new for him. He loved his sister. He even supposed the feelings he felt for his father were love at one time. The tangled circle of emotions that knotted his stomach at thought of Elizabeth was nothing he experienced before. There was only one explanation and the reasoning did not hearten him, not as such knowledge should.

He loved Elizabeth.

There were so many reasons he should not. Chief amongst them, love and duty often mixed no better than oil and water. But she had poisoned him, as sure as the darkspawn dagger that wounded him during the siege. And for this, there was no cure. One look at her, dust from the road upon her armor, the sun's blush flushing her cheeks and the soft round of her mouth curved into a relieved smile, he was ready to swallow another draw of beautiful poison.

They spoke no further. Words could wait; words could come later. His hand drifted down her chest, gliding over the fabric of her doublet before stopping to rest upon her hip. Grey set upon green, his eyes locked with hers as his hand roved. A calm before an inevitable storm. Fingers closed around the bottom hem of her doublet, lifting the material enough to expose the flat of her stomach and give his hand the freedom to explore further.

The fevered desperation that swallowed them both with Anders' departure mellowed to a slow burn in the deliberateness of his hand's touch and gentle glide of his lips against hers. He wanted to taste and savor, not consume. To think someone lost and to discover them not… Nathaniel wished to take his time and live within the moment of their reunion for as long as possible.

A soft moan edged Elizabeth's lips as she responded in kind to his kiss. Her hands explored as well, one sinking into his hair and cradling the nape of his neck as the other traveled the length of his spine to settle just upon his backside. The press of her fingertips into the thin material of his pants sent a trill of sensation down his legs. His pleased sounds soon mixed with hers.

Time stilled as they laid there atop the bed relishing in the feel of the other. At some point her doublet and his pants joined the pile of armor upon the ground and their bodies intertwined. His hips pressed into hers, rocking slow and deep. Her legs wrapped about him, heels digging into his back.

Nothing had ever felt so intimate.

Her release came first. Her head tilted back as he felt her tighten against him. Lips drug along the slant of her neck to the hollow. As she came, his mouth closed upon hers, drinking in the vibrations of her cries. Her orgasm brought on his. A breathy cry was muffled within the crook of her neck.

He stayed like that atop her for a time, neither eager to separate from the other. The kisses trailing along her neck and shoulder stilled only long enough for him to shift to her side and draw body against his, chest to back.

The long silence broke in a single word as Elizabeth's fingers coiled about his, pulling his arm about her chest tightly in a hug. "Sleep," she sighed out.

And for the first night in many, Nathaniel expected he could do just that.

Author note: We are nearing the end of this story that I started so long ago. Thank you so much to those of you reading along!