The Ferelden countryside lived up to just about every snide comment Fenris had ever heard.

There were few trees; mostly dirt roads leading through grasslands and the occasional swamp, the hard-packed earth long ago beaten down by farmers and their carriages of goods to sell. It rained three days in a row, which covered absolutely everything and everyone in cold mud. They were forced to stick to rations because it rained so heavily at night they couldn't keep a fire going. Even the Fereldens in the party were miserable, and everyone perked up when the sun finally showed its face.

When they finally came upon a forest, Brosca made a point of going around.

"Most of the forests are infested with spirits, bloodthirsty beasts, and territorial Dalish," she explained when Fenris questioned the detour. "It'll only take an extra day to go around."

Fenris peered into the depths of the forest as he walked the faint path around its edges. The trees looked ancient, and the foliage was so thick he could barely see into the forest itself. He got the sense he was being watched by unfriendly eyes, though there was no sign of an attack in the day it took them to skirt around. Fenris had never been overly comfortable in forests to begin with. He'd been born and raised in a city, and always found it easiest to get lost in the streets of cities he'd passed through during his initial flight from Danarius.

The feeling of being watched had them all on edge, and they were happy to leave the forest and its mistrusting inhabitants behind.

The length of the journey helped to bring Matwog a bit out of his haze of grief. He even started to joke a bit, though when left to his own devices he could often be seen staring into empty air, a hollow look in his eyes. Bethany and Nate had taken it upon themselves to keep him as preoccupied as possible, and the three of them became thick as thieves: telling stories, speaking with other Wardens, and especially teasing Alistair and Fenris. They tried to pull a prank on Brosca once and only once, and then kept a respectful distance.

"Ancestors, those two bring out the worst in Nate," Brosca grumbled to Alistair one night from where they were seated around one of the fires. She was tearing up her bread into little pieces and dropping it into her stew, narrowed eyes on the trio seated at another fire. "They've got him acting like a child."

Alistair chuckled. "He always struck me as a little too grim and moody. Maybe it's good for him to act like a childish prat sometimes."

"Hmph," Brosca said, stirring the bread into her stew, her eyes a little softer. "True enough. I always got the feeling he had to grow up fast and hard. He was a bitter man when I found him." She took a sip of her dinner and hesitated, peering into her bowl with an unreadable expression. "Alistair. I thought I told you not to volunteer for cooking duty."

Fenris, who'd been about to take his own first taste of the stew, paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

Alistair beamed. "I know, I know, that's for the lower ranks and all that. But I miss it! I've been so homesick, and now I have a reason to make good old fashioned Ferelden lamb stew again! Good, huh?"

Fenris inspected the odd-colored lump on his spoon with sudden suspicion. "This is lamb?"

"Of course it is!" Alistair looked at him, hurt. "Why does everyone always sound so skeptical when I tell them that?"

Brosca set her bowl aside carefully. "I think I'll go see if there's more bread."

xxxxxxxxxx

Zevran parted from them the following day. He had lost all of his men in the Deep Roads, and claimed he was now on a mission of recruitment.

"There are a handful of Crows in Denerim; some of them will be hunting down marks, others are deserters," he explained. "I shall recall the former and deal with the latter." His quick, toothy grin hinted at what he meant by "deal with". He offered a deep but mocking bow to those who had gathered to see him off. "Always a pleasure to see you, my dear Warden. And you as well, Alistair. Try not to get killed." He winked at Fenris, goosed Bethany, and was strolling off into the hills before Nate could get more than a sputtering protest out.

"Ridiculous man," Brosca huffed, visibly suppressing a smile. "Never was one for lengthy goodbyes. I'd worry about him setting off on his own, but I suppose he can take care of himself well enough."

"He's very... Antivan," Bethany said hesitantly, still blushing a little from his playful pinch. "Still, he was kind of fun to have around, even if I never knew when to take him seriously."

"Good riddance," Nate grumbled.

"You traveled with that man for nearly a year during the Blight and managed not to strangle him?" Fenris queried, sending Brosca an odd look.

"You'd think with the difference in their personalities, they'd have set off some sort of explosion just by being near each other," Alistair agreed. "I always kind of expected to wake up one morning and find his mangled corpse on the outskirts of the camp or something. Ah, good times."

"It was touch and go sometimes," Brosca admitted, finally grinning a little. "He grows on you. He's pretty loyal, for an assassin." She shouldered her axe and waved on the rest of the Wardens, who had been using the short break to repack their bags and grab a quick snack. "Let's go. We've still got another couple days ahead of us.

Nate and Matwog immediately got into a heated argument about the best place to buy armor in Denerim, so Bethany hurried her pace until she caught up alongside Fenris. She looped her arm affectionately through his, and it only gave him a moment's pause. Odd, he mused briefly, how accustomed to kind touches he was becoming because of the two of Fereldens on either side of him.

"One day you'll take us to Weisshaupt, right, Alistair?" Bethany implored. "I've always wanted to see it."

Fenris flicked Alistair a curious glance. "The Grey Warden headquarters?"

He nodded, shifting the weight of his shield to his other shoulder without breaking stride. "I've only been there twice. Usually I report to Vigil's Keep, especially with Brosca away so often. She's usually the one expected at Weisshaupt. I'm just fine staying a little closer to home. Besides, the Wardens over there are... different. A lot of them think a little too much of themselves, if you ask me. A lot of people look to them as some sort of military. Even expect them to make important decisions about things that have nothing to do with darkspawn. It's why I was a little surprised this business in Antiva with the Wardens bothered them in the first place. Kind of hypocritical if you ask me." He shrugged abruptly, as if embarrassed to be caught airing his political opinion. "Brosca's more familiar with it. She'd be the one to talk to about Weisshaupt and the Wardens there."

Brosca was just close enough to overhear. "Darkspawn usually aren't seen very often aboveground between Blights," she said over her shoulder. "It's disappointing but unsurprising that the Wardens would eventually become political."

"It's against our code," Bethany argued, looking offended at the notion. "Wardens are meant to slay darkspawn. They can demand help from anyone, even kings, and everyone knows it. We should stay far away from politics."

Brosca shook her head. "Not everyone feels that way. Especially in places like Weisshaupt where the Wardens have had such a strong presence for centuries."

"Can we not talk about this?" Alistair interrupted with the hint of a whine to his tone. "Do you know how pathetically grateful I was to put politics behind me when I became a Warden?"

Brosca chuckled. "Apologies, Highness."

"Low blow."

Fenris frowned. This was a conversation he'd meant to have in private, but this seemed as good an opening as any. "Who were you before you became a Grey Warden?" he asked bluntly.

Alistair's eyes shied away hastily from his stare. "Er... no one important. I was a templar, you know that."

"Honestly, Alistair," Bethany said with quiet reproach. "It was a long time ago. It's not who you are anymore. Do you really want Fenris to find out from idle gossip at the Keep like I did?"

Alistair winced. "No." He took a quick breath and forced himself to meet Fenris's expectant gaze. "I'm the bastard son of the late King Marric," he said, so quickly it was practically one long tangled word.

Fenris felt his eyebrows arch, but otherwise kept his expression calm. "I see."

Encouraged by the lack of excitement, Alistair continued a little quieter, "It was all a big scandal that was kept hushed-up. My mother was a servant at the castle, and very few people ever knew the truth until close to the end of the Blight. My uncle even tried to get me the crown before the last battle. Called a Landsmeet and everything. Luckily, Brosca was smart enough to see I'd fail miserably at being King, and helped Anora take the throne instead. Much better choice, believe me. She was always popular with the people, and she certainly knows what she's doing."

"I never thought you'd make a bad king, Alistair," Brosca corrected. "But your heart wasn't in it, and Anora seemed more than competent. Besides, putting a Grey Warden on the throne would have been seen as a political maneuver, which is something neither of us wanted." She snorted quietly. "Certain Wardens at Weisshaupt gave me quite the earful when they heard of the 'golden opportunity' we'd passed up. Idiots."

Alistair sent Fenris a worried look. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess I got so used to keeping it to myself. First because it was a huge secret, then because I didn't want the attention or expectations that came with the truth. Anora's been a successful queen for years now, so the truth of my birth won't cause quite the stir it might have before, but it's still something I try to keep quiet. I don't want the other Wardens treating me any differently. Even some of my own squad acted a little weird at first when they first found out."

"I did," Bethany admitted with a sheepish little grin. "Any Ferelden would have."

"Thank you for telling me," Fenris said somberly.

Alistair looked distressed. "You're upset I didn't tell you before. I'm just so used to keeping it to myself, and- well, I didn't think I'd be able to stand it if you started treating me differently."

Fenris looked away. "I'm not upset."

"You are!"

"I'm not." He met the man's eyes again, frowning. "I was a slave. You've never looked down on me for it. Why should I treat you like something you used to be? Besides, it's not like you ever had any power. What you were born as has nothing to do with who you are, does it?"

Alistair looked momentarily stunned. "N-no. But-"

"Bethany doesn't bear you any grudge for being a former templar, and I know for a fact templars have made her life hell in the past. Nor do I hold her being a mage against her, when the vast majority of my experience with magic has been unpleasant."

"True..." A slow, hesitant smile crept across Alistair's face. His hand twitched in what looked like an aborted attempt to reach for Fenris. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for," Fenris muttered, looking away again in an attempt to hide the heat he felt rising at his throat. "Quit giving me puppy eyes."

"I do not do puppy eyes!"

"You kind of do," Bethany giggled.

"He is a big mabari."

"Isn't he?"

"Brosca," Alistair whined, "tell them to stop!"

xxxxxxxxxx

Fenris volunteered to take first watch that night. Despite the long walk, he felt restless, almost uneasy. They'd be reaching populated areas soon, and despite his new status as a Grey Warden, worry still gnawed at his mind. Would there still be a price on his head? Had Danarius even bothered to spread the word of his escape as far as Ferelden? He was a slave no longer, but that hadn't stopped Prato's magistrate. Even if news of Danarius's death eventually got the reward lifted, it would take longer for such news to reach Ferelden.

Let them come for me, he thought savagely, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. He kept his back to the fire, staying just far enough from the camp to make sure he kept his night vision as his eyes swept the dark empty field they'd camped in. I'll kill anyone stupid enough to try and bring me in. And Brosca and the others won't let it happen. It was a comforting thought, and made something in him ache. Hawke had thrown him to the wolves, but Alistair, Bethany, and the other Wardens would fight for him. He was sure of their loyalty, more sure than he'd been of anyone for as long as he could remember. It frightened him a bit, but was also a deep comfort.

Footsteps scraping on dried mud alerted him to the approach of someone from the camp. "Hey," came Alistair's soft call. "Anything interesting out there?"

Fenris waited until the man had stepped up alongside him so he wouldn't have to turn towards the fire. "Lots of nothing. Maybe a pair of deer earlier. Certainly not darkspawn. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Alistair had discarded his armor, and leaned his shoulder comfortably against Fenris's, also gazing out across the grasslands. He covered a yawn half-heartedly. "Can't sleep. One of the men snores loud enough to wake the dead. I think the others in the tent are about to mutiny and either smother him with a pillow or carry his cot to the edge of the camp."

"He can't snore any worse than you."

"I do not snore!"

Fenris's mouth trembled on the verge of a smirk. "I assure you, you do."

"Liar." Alistair's lips brushed against his temple, making him shiver slightly. "Besides, keeping you company is more appealing than listening to a group of sweaty men fart and snore all night."

A small laugh snuck from Fenris's throat before he could stop it.

"You should do that more often," Alistair said approvingly. "Laugh, I mean." He leaned in, still a bit hesitant as if expecting a rebuff, and laid a lingering kiss on Fenris's mouth.

"And you should do that more often," Fenris murmured, faintly surprised at his own boldness.

Alistair's face lit up in a quick, boyish grin. "If you insist," he said happily, and leaned in for another kiss.

A/N: I never made an official announcement here; it's just on my profile page. I stopped updating over here because I moved over to AO3 (same username), and had updated this fic over there. Regardless, this is as far as I got. Then writer's block and life got in the way. DA:I has renewed my interest in working on this again, though. When I do finally get around to updating this again, it'll be over on AO3 first.