I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorite this story. Thank you guys so much!

"INCONCEIVABLE!" Bartrand shouted at the sight before him. Off in the distance, the man in black was running across the terrain, headed straight for them. Bartrand scowled and held out his hand for the girl. "Give her to me. Catch up with us quickly!"

Sten sighed, switching Etain over to him. "What is it you wish me to do?"

"FINISH HIM, FINISH HIM! YOUR WAY!" He yanked Etain's tied hands, forcing her to walk.

"My way?" the giant asked skeptically.

"Pick up one of those rocks, get behind the boulder. In a few minutes the man in black will come running around the bend. The minute his HEAD is in view, HIT IT WITH THE ROCK!" And with that last shout, Bartrand disappeared around the boulders with Princess Etain in tow.

Sten scowled, but did as he was told, picking up one of the rocks and hiding behind one of the larger boulders.

Max's bark echoed over the cliff as he sniffed the sandy footprints along the edge, his ears perked up and alert.

Loghain crossed his gauntleted arms, impressed. Just below him in the dirt were drops of blood, and on the rock a few feet away there was a scratch. From a sword hitting it, no doubt. "It seems there was a mighty duel." He gestured to his observations. "It ranged all over. They were both masters."

"Who won?" Howe asked from atop his horse. "How did it end?"

"The loser ran off alone, but the winner," he paused, looking at Max. The dog barked again, pointing his nose towards Orlais. "Followed those footprints toward Orlais."

Howe's brow furrowed. "Shall we track them both?"

"The loser is alone. He will not be where my bride is. The winner followed the princess's footprints; track him. Clearly this was all planned by warriors of Orlais. We must all be ready for whatever lies ahead."

"Could this be a trap?" asked Howe.

Loghain mounted his horse. "I always think everything could be a trap... which is why I'm still alive."

Bartrand sighed, tracing one of the engravings of his dagger as it pressed to the princess's throat. He would miss that damned giant, he thought. Not because of his charming company, but because qunari outside the Qun were incredibly rare, and difficult to hire.

Zevran, however, he wasn't to broken up about losing. No, the Antivan Crows had hundreds of trained assassins. All it took was a bit of coin to hire them, anyway.

As he expected, the man in black quickly came up through the trees, slowing when he saw Bartrand and Etain sitting at a makeshift table on a rock. His eyes went from Etain, to the dagger, to Bartrand, then back to the dagger as he slowly moved forward.

"So," he calls, "it is down to you, and it is down to me." When the man didn't stop, he continued, "If you wish her dead, by all means, keep moving forward."

The man in black raised defenseless hands. "Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain." Bartrand disagreed. "You're trying to kidnap what I have rightfully stolen."

The man in black shrugged. "Perhaps... an arrangement can be reached?"

"There will be no arrangement, and you're killing her."

The dagger dug into her throat and Etain gasped in pain. The man in black froze in his tracks.

"If there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse."

"I'm afraid so," Bartrand sneered. "I can't compete with you physically, and you're no match for my brains."

"You're that smart?" The man asked.

"Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of Genitivi, Shartan, Threnodies?"

"Yes."

"Morons."

"Really," the man in black mused skeptically. "In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits."

"For the princess?" Bartrand asked.

The man in black nodded.

"To the death?"

Again he nodded.

"I accept." Bartrand retracted the dagger from the princess's throat and sheathed it, shifting into a more comfortable position. She sighed in relief, relaxing her tensed muscles as her eyes blinked behind the blindfold.

"Good. Then pour the wine." Bartrand did as he was asked as the man in black sat across from him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small vial. As the dwarf watched, the man in black uncorked it and offered it to him. "Inhale this, but do not touch."

Bartrand leaned in and carefully sniffed the vial. He wrinkled his nose, confused. "I smell nothing."

"What you do not smell is called Iocane powder," the man explained. "It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadly poisons known to man."

"Hmm."

He turned away from Bartrand with one goblet in each hand. A few moments later, he turned back and replaced them. "All right. Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right..." he paused. "and who is dead."

Bartrand's brow furrowed. "But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

Now the man in black looked confused. "You've made your decision then?"

"Not remotely. Because Iocane comes from Rivain, as everyone knows, and Rivain is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you."

"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect," the man in black noted.

"WAIT TILL I GET GOING!" Bartrand boasted. "Where was I?"

"Rivain."

"Yes, Rivain. And you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

"You give me too much credit," the man in black disagreed. "You're just stalling now."

"YOU'D LIKE TO THINK THAT, WOULDN'T YOU? You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting your strength would save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Antivan Crow, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

His eyes narrowed behind his mask. "You're trying to trick me into giving away something. It won't work."

"IT HAS WORKED! YOU'VE GIVEN EVERYTHING AWAY! I KNOW WHERE THE POISON IS!"

"Then make your choice," the man in black insisted.

"I will, and I choose-" he suddenly glanced over the man's shoulder, pointing. "What in the world can that be?"

The man in black whirled around. "What? Where?"

Bartrand switched the cups.

After searching the trees and finding nothing, the man in black turned back around. "I didn't see anything."

"Well," Bartrand said, feigning innocence. "I could have sworn I saw something. No matter." He chuckled quietly to himself?"

"What's so funny?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," Bartrand promised. "First, let's drink. Me from my glass," he picked up the goblet before him, "and you from yours."

They both raised their glasses in mock toast and drank.

The man in black set his goblet down first. "You guessed wrong."

Bartrand let out a bark of laughter. "You only think I guessed wrong! That's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha ha! You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war with qunari, but only slightly less well known is this: never go in against a dwarf when death is on the line! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha-" as abruptly as it had started, Bartrand's laugh cut off and he fell limply to the side, dead.

Unfazed, the man in black quickly removed the princess's blindfold.

She glared at him suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"I'm no one to be trifled with," he said simply. "That is all you ever need know." He then moved to untie her hands.

"So then all that time it was your cup that was poisoned," Etain murmured.

"They were both poisoned," he explained, pulling her to her feet. "I spent the last few years building up an immunity to Iocane powder." And as soon as she regained her balance, he grabbed her hand and began to run.

Max barked, growling at the rocky ground as if it offended him.

Loghain knelt beside the large area of flattened grass, surveying the area with interest. "Someone has beaten a giant," he realized. "There will be great suffering in Orlais if she dies."

He mounted his horse once more and they followed Max into the forest.

Just when Etain thought she would die if she ran any more, the man in black stopped at a group of rocks and allowed her to sit.

"Catch your breath." He ordered.

"What do you want with me, anyway?" she huffed. "Ransom? Loghain will kill you; it's difficult for one to collect ransom when they're dead."

"Oh? You think your dearest love will save you?" he mocked.

"I never said he was my dearest love," she protested, "and yes, he will save me. That I know."

"You admit to me you do not love your fiancé.

"He knows I do not love him," she stated coldly.

"You're not capable of love is what you mean."

Angrily, she stood, nearly nose to nose with him. "I have loved more deeply than a man like yourself could ever dream!"

"Consider this your only warning, Highness," he warned. "Where I come from, there are penalties when a woman lies."

He grabbed her arm and they continued running.

Max was becoming more and more excited by the second, barking and prancing around frantically as they reached a makeshift table on a rock.

When they searched the area, they found a plain vial, uncorked and empty on the ground.

Loghain brought the vial to his nose, sniffing it carefully. "Iocane. I'd bet my life on it." Max barked again, sniffing at smaller, daintier footprints in the dirt. "And there are the princess's footprints. She is alive, or was an hour ago. If she is otherwise when I find her, I shall be very put out." He rose, mounted his horse, and together they rode off.

"Rest, Highness."

Etain flopped down on another rock, glaring up at her captor. "I'm wondering something," she told him. "You wouldn't happen to be the Dread Pirate Roberts, would you?"

He bowed. "I admit it with pride. What can I do for you?"

"You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces." She replied coldly.

"Tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk," he scolded. "Hardly complimentary, your Highness. Why loose your venom on me?"

"You killed my love," she said bitterly.

He shrugged. "It's possible. I kill a lot of people. Who was this love of yours? Another king like this one, ugly, rich, and scabby?"

She shook her head. "No. A farm boy. Poor. Poor and perfect. With eyes like amber in the sun..." she trailed off, her own eyes looking lost in a memory. "On the high seas, your ship attacked. And the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners."

"I can't afford to make exceptions," he said cheekily. "I mean, once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you and then it's nothing but work, work, work all the time."

"You mock my pain!" She snarled.

"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." He crossed his arms, wandering towards her. "I remember this farm boy of yours, I think. This would be, what, five years ago? Does it bother you to hear?"

She looked away. "Nothing you can say will upset me."

"He died well. That should please you. No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said, "Please... please, I need to live."" He turned back to her. "It was the "please" that caught my memory. I asked him what was so important for him here. "True Love", he replied. And then he spoke of a girl of surpassing beauty and faithfulness; I can only assume he meant you. You should bless me for destroying him before he found out what you really are."

"And what am I?" she snapped, rising to her feet.

"Faithfulness he talked of, Madame, your enduring faithfulness. Now tell me truly, when you found out he was gone, did you get engaged to your king at the same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?"

"You mocked me once. Never do it again! I never had a choice! I died that day!" At the sound of hoof beats, the pair looked to the top of the hill to see a group on horseback, the flag of royalty of Ferelden flying above them. Seeing her chance, Etain whirled on him. "And you can die too for all I care!"

They were already standing on the edge of the hill. All it took was a shove, and down he went.

Huffs of air escaped him on each impact. "As... you... wish!"

The air rushed out of Etain's lungs as if she'd been struck.

"Alistair," she choked, "what have I done?"

Without a second thought, she leaped after him.

At the top of the hill, the group of men on horseback scratched their heads.

"They disappeared," Loghain cursed. "He must have seen us closing in. Which might account for his panicking into error. Unless I am wrong, and I am never wrong, they are headed dead into the Korcari Wilds."

They rode off.

The pair finally stopped rolling at the bottom; Alistair's mask had come off on the way down, revealing his handsome features and golden hair. He was mostly unhurt though.

Alistair leaned over Etain, pulling her into his lap. "Can you move at all?"

"Move?" she breathed. "You're alive. If you want I could fly." Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close as he returned her embrace.

After a few moments, he pulled back, cradling her cheek in his hand. "I told you I would always come for you," he reminded her. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Well, you were dead," she murmured.

He smiled. "Death cannot stop True Love. All it can do is delay it for a while."

"I will never doubt again," she vowed.

"There will never be a need," he promised quietly, then he tilted her chin up and pressed his lips tenderly to hers.

The hoof beats drew nearer, and they broke apart to see Loghain's party riding down towards the valley.

"Ha!" Alistair exclaimed. "Your pig fiancé is too late. A few more steps and we'll be safe in the Korcari Wilds."

He grabbed her hand again and they raced across the ravine floor towards the Wilds.

"We'll never survive," Etain said, bewildered.

"Nonsense," Alistair dismissed. "You're only saying that because no one ever has."

It didn't take them long to reach the Wilds, even on foot. Etain was immediately struck with how cold it was, how the trees seemed to loom threateningly over them, and how she felt as though her every movement was being watched.

Alistair pursed his lips. "It's not that bad."

Etain turned to him, incredulous, and he shrugged.

"I'm not saying I want to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely," he observed.

They started walking, hand in hand, through the surprisingly low grass. Though he kept his eye on Etain, he kept his free hand on his sword in case of danger.

A good thing, too, when a wolf leaped out of a nearby bush and launched itself at them, it's beady eyes glistening with the prospect of a meal. Etain gasped in terror, bracing herself.

But Alistair was fast. He had his sword out in moments, and in the next second it was buried in the animal's chest. The wolf gave a quiet whimper, then slumped to the ground.

The sword was bloody when he retracted it. "Well now," he chuckled. "That was an adventure."

Etain huffed at him, but she was smiling as she retook his hand and they continued on their way.

"This will all soon be but a happy memory. Because Roberts' ship Revenge is anchored at the far end. And I, as you know, am Roberts."

"You weren't joking?" she asked. He shook his head. "But how is that possible, since he's been marauding twenty years, and you only left me five years ago?"

"I myself am often surprised at life's little quirks. See, what I told you before about saying "please" was true. It intrigued Roberts, as did my description of your beauty. Finally, Roberts decided something. He said, "All right Alistair, I've never had a valet, you can try it for tonight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning." Three years he said that. "Good night Alistair. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning." It was a fine time for me. I was learning to fence, fight, anything anyone would teach me. Roberts and I eventually became friends. And then it happened."

"What happened? Go on," she encouraged.

"Well," Alistair continued. "Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. So he took me to his cabin, and told me his secret. "I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts", he said. "My name is Duncan...""