Part I

"Morrigan!" The Warden yelled out from the bedroom of the cottage. He and the witch were expecting very important visitors soon and he was getting himself cleaned up for their arrival. He was standing in front of the small mirror that was placed over the wash basin, holding a razor in his hand, and a thick soapy lather covered half of his face. On his neck he bore a nice gash that bled freely.

The witch soon poked her head into the bedchamber door, "You bellowed?" she asked with her hands on her hips.

"What did I say about using my razor to shave your legs with? Just look at my neck!" he fumed as he pointed out the lovely cut.

"Your anger is misplaced as usual. I did not shave with it." she replied in a calm yet annoyed fashion.

"If you didn't use it, how did it get so jagged and dull?"

"I did not say I had not used it."

"Uh-huh...I'm almost afraid to ask what you did use it for."

"There was a bit of old varnish that needed removing from the bookcase in the den."

The Warden was dumbfounded by what he heard, "So you used my razor?" he asked.

"I did."

"What on earth possessed you to do that?" he fumed as he held the razor out for her to see, "Just look at it! It's ruined!"

"Stop acting like such a child. That bit of varnish could have broken off and been found by our son, which he would have no doubt immediately placed in his mouth."

"Why didn't you just get a knife out of the kitchen?"

"Because they were too cumbersome to do the job properly. Like it or not, your razor was the only tool that would do."

"Now what am I supposed to use to shave with?"

Morrigan calmly strolled over to her chest of drawers, pulled out the top drawer, and retrieved her own razor, which was decidedly smaller and more elegant than his. With a loud sigh she handed the small object to him, saying "Here, you may use mine. However, promise me that you shall sharpen it when you are done. I do not want your wiry whiskers fouling the blade."

"You couldn't have just used yours?"

"Do not be silly. That would have most certainly ruined it."

He stood there with a stupefied look, unable to reply. All he could do was stare blankly down at the small, intricately carved wooden handle he held in his palm.

"You had better hurry, my love. Our guests will arriving here shortly." the witch said in a chipper tone before giving him a peck on his check and walking out of the room.

He shook his head, thinking to himself what a perplexing creature he had married. With a quick flick of his wrist, the razor blade flipped out of its handle and he brought the sharp object against his face to finish what he started.

When he was finished shaving, he went to join his witch and their son, who were both outside the cozy cottage. As he walked through the door, The Warden saw Seth near the garden, playing with his most trusted and faithful companion, the mabari, Leo.

The child held a large stick out and shook it back and forth, urging the hound to take the bait, all the while Seth merrily chanted "Stick, Leo! Stick! Get it!" as he tempted the beast with the slobbery and chewed-up item.

Morrigan stood a few yards away, watching her son with her arms folded. And even though her eyes never strayed from Seth, The Warden could plainly see that his witch was distracted by something. She bore a slight smile on her lips as she watched Leo bark and hop in circles around the child as he tried in vain to grasp the prize that Seth held just out of reach.

She never even noticed her warden as he walked up to her until he put his arm around her waist, drawing her close to him. Her smile widened when she saw him; her large golden eyes meeting with his. He positioned himself behind her and pressed her against him, bending down to nuzzle against the back of her neck with a few soft and well-placed kisses.

Usually when he did such things, she melted in his arms from the attention. But this time, Morrigan barely seemed to notice. Instead, she asked, "Do you see how much our son has grown?" with a thoughtful sigh.

"I do." The Warden replied, not bothering to look up, "he's getting bigger every day."

"'Tis a rather remarkable thing, is it not?"

"What is?"

"Our son. From we two came a living breathing child. And someday he shall grow to be a man. His destiny will be to forever change the world."

"What's gotten into you today?"

The witch turned in his arms to face him. Her gaze held none of the usual steel he was accustomed to seeing in her. Instead, there was a softness in her look; a softness that made him feel a bit uneasy.

"In truth, there is much we need to discuss, you and I." she said.

"Such as?"

"I am late." she whispered.

"Late for what?" he asked, casting a quizzical eye down to his witch.

"Surely, even you cannot be so dense."

He stood there looking at her with the same confused look for a minute while his mind tried to process the information. What could she possibly be late for, he asked himself. Morrigan wasn't going anywhere that he knew of, at least not without him. There wasn't anything she needed to have done that he knew about. Then, like a flash out of the darkness, it hit him.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "you're 'late'!"

"Silly ass." the witch giggled.

"So does this mean what I think it means?"

"Indeed it does. 'Tis time to start making preparations for a new arrival into our family."

"Morrigan, that's wonderful!" he hollered out as he picked her up and swung her around in gleeful jubilance.

"Dwemer! Put me down!" the witch yelled, "do you not recall what happened the last time?"

"Oh, right." he muttered sheepishly as he set her feet back on the ground.

"I'll not take any chances this time."

"I agree. And I'll be here to take care of you every step of the way."

His words instantly wiped the smile off her face, and caused her to grumble. "Your constant doting is precisely what I do not need. I still remember how you treated me while I carried Seth." she huffed.

"Hey, that's not fair. I was only around for the very last part. By then, you were already big as a..."

That was all he could get out before Morrigan's angry glare cut him off in mid sentence. "I do not need you to remind me how bloated and horrid I appeared."

"What are you talking about? You were absolutely ravishing. And I have no doubts that this time you'll be just as lovely." he said, trying to sooth her with his words and a smile.

"You are a terrible liar. You only say such things to avoid drawing my ire." she scoffed, folding her arms and turning her face away from his.

He reached out and gently brought her eyes back to his, and said, "Morrigan...I meant every word. You're more beautiful to me today than ever. I'm so thankful to wake up next to you each and every morning."

"'Tis pure sentimental nonsense. I did not tell you I was pregnant so that you may badger me with your foolishness."

He shot back a sly grin, "You're a terrible liar." he said, not believing a single word.

"Had I known this conversation would take such a turn, I would have avoided it altogether."

"So you don't want me to tell how addicted to you I am?"

"I did not say that. You are twisting my words, as usual."

"Then what is it?"

"'Tis just that...I...I..." the witch stammered, trying to collect her thoughts, which he had cast into disarray once again.

But before she was forced to admit defeat and succumb to the emotions and feelings he generated inside her; things that she both longed to tell him and yet despised speaking, Leo began barking loudly, announcing the approach of riders on horseback as they came over the low ridge and towards the small cottage. Relief filled Morrigan as both she and The Warden looked up to see ten mounted soldiers, their shiny armor glistening in the morning sun, with one bearing the royal banner of the Theirin coat of arms, escorting the king and his consort, Dyana.

The Warden peered down at his witch and said with a grin, "Saved by Alistair. I guess this means you owe him one."

"If you say so much as a single word to him about this, I swear I shall never forgive you."

"Add it to the list." he replied with a smirk.

"Dwemer, I am serious. Not one word."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything." he assured as he begrudgingly pried himself from his witch's side in order to greet the king.

Alistair threw his leg up and over his horse and dismounted, shouting a robust "Dwemer!" in greeting as he did so.

"You're earlier than I thought you'd be. That woman of yours not slowing you do, I see." The Warden replied as he approached the king and grasped his hand in a hearty handshake.

"Dyana..." The Warden said with a nod as he acknowledged the still-mounted woman.

"Warden..." she returned with a slight nod of her own.

"If your going to be saddled with this big lug, just call me Dwemer."

"I'll try to remember that."

"So," Alistair began, "just the four of us going on holiday. It'll be great to finally get away for a bit. I can hardly wait."

"The four of us?" The Warden questioned as he nodded in the direction of the ten mounted knights.

" I know, I know." Alistair sighed, "Arl Eamon won't let me go anywhere without them. He says it's for my own good. Maker's breath! He still treats me like I'm a child."

"Considering what's happened since you took the throne, can you blame him?"

"No. I guess not." the king replied thoughtfully, "but I can blame you."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Unless you've forgotten, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be king in the first place."

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Not on your life."

The pair strolled toward Morrigan, catching up on what had transpired since they saw each other last, some six months ago. Alistair informed his friend of the trouble that was brewing in the northern bannorn, in the aftermath of the invasion by the Order of Bohlen. Many of the banns had been killed and the lords took to squabbling among themselves over who rightfully controlled the lands. The Warden could see the strain it was putting on the king as he tried to sort out the mess. Alistair looked tired and overworked. This was the greatest political challenge that he had faced so far, and it was a weary chore.

"I've called for a landsmeet to settle the matter once and for all." Alistair said, "The first one since I became king more than three years ago."

"What does Eamon think about that?"

"Eamon was actually the one who suggested that I do it."

"Have you told Fergus about it yet?"

"Not yet, I figure I can talk to him when we pass through Highever on our way to West Hill. You are going to the castle before we leave, aren't you?"

"Yes. Seth will be staying with his uncle for a few days while we're gone. It's been awhile since Fergus has seen him. I think having Seth around reminds my bother of Oren, that's why he likes it so much."

"Dwemer...there's something else..." Alistair said with a bit of uncertainty, "Eamon wants you to be at the landsmeet as well."

"Me? What for?"

"A show of strength and solidarity. The lords will think twice about causing any trouble when they see you."

"Certainly not!" Morrigan barked, "We've done our bit for king and country. Need I remind you that Dwemer has laid down his blades for good."

"Morrigan..." Alistair greeted with a slight nod, "charming as ever, I see."

The king turned back to The Warden, "Just hear me out, that's all I ask."

"I should have known this holiday of yours was nothing more than an elaborate ruse to lure my husband back into doing your work for you." the witch hissed.

"Morrigan, let him finish."

"It's no ruse, I promise. No one is forcing you to do anything. All I'm asking is that you come back with me to Denerim after our trip. You won't have to do anything other than stand around. It'll be very boring."

"I'll think about it." was the only reply The Warden offered. Morrigan, appalled that he would even consider such a thing, folded her arms and rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Fair enough."

It was then that Leo decided he could no longer contain his joy at seeing Alistair and charged the king, jumping up at him with his large paws and knocking Alistair backwards onto the ground, causing him to land on his backside with a thud.

"Alright, boy!" the king exclaimed as he tried to defend himself through a barrage of furious licks by a wet, slobbery tongue, "I'm glad to see you, too."

"Alright, Leo, that's enough." The Warden commanded. As soon as the beast heard his master's words, he hopped off Alistair and quickly plopped his large rump on the ground with his stubby tail wagging rapidly.

The king raised himself from the ground, wiping the slobber from his face and spiting a few times to get the residue from his mouth, and making a grimace while he did. After he felt he had sufficiently expelled the slime, he noticed a certain young child standing beside him, looking up at him impatiently.

Alistair crouched down so that he was eye level with Seth, placing his hands on his knees, and asked, "And how's my favorite two-year-old?"

"Aleestawr! Aleestawr!" the boy cried jubilantly was he clapped his chubby little hands. "Did you bwing me sumpin?"

"Seth!" the witch scolded, "Alistair surely has more important things to do than to worry about bringing you gifts." which caused the boy to frown.

"No, it's alright." Alistair said with a chuckle, "As a matter of fact, I do have something for you."

Instantly the child's eyes lit up and he excitedly squirmed in his spot as he impatiently waited to see what wonderful prize the king brought for him.

"What? What?"

"Now let me see here...where did I put that blasted thing?" Alistair mumbled as his hands patted his body, searching for the item.

With a stiff snap of his fingers, he exclaimed "That's right! Now I remember!" and reached behind Seth's tiny ear, and with a simple gesture, seemed to pull a shiny new gold sovereign from it, completely amazing the boy.

"Again! Again!" Seth said as he merrily clapped his hands in utter amazement of the king's 'magic'.

"Look Mutha! Magic!" the toddler exclaimed to his mother.

"'Tis hardly magic. 'Twas merely a simple parlor trick. And not a very good one at that."

Alistair covered his face with the side of his hand and whispered, "Don't listen to her. She's just jealous because you liked my little trick, that's all."

"If your desire is to see real magic, I can certainly accommodate you." the witch huffed as her open palm began to glow, indicating that she was charging a spell that would most likely be directed at the king.

"Morrigan...be nice." The Warden said in an almost fatherly tone.

"Our son has seen me change my form, call lightning from the sky, spout fire from my fingertips, as well as seen me perform enumerable acts of magic...yet he is still astonished by Alistair's simple trick?"

"He's two. It's not that hard to amuse him."

"As easily as you, yourself, are amused, I would think age had little to do with it."

"Funny." The Warden replied, smirking. "Come on, we need to get our things and head to the castle."

The Warden and his witch gathered the items they would need for the long trip to West Hill, which was an old fort built along the northern Ferelden coast centuries ago. The fort was originally constructed to stem the ever increasing attacks by marauders from the Waking Sea. In it's heyday, it was a thriving outpost with thousands of inhabitants. But in recent times, with the threat by the corsairs long since gone, West Hill was a mere shadow of its former glory, with many of it's tall spires and watchtowers now silent after having spent so many years being faithfully manned by a large garrison of the king's troops.

Still, there were rumored to be miles of underground passageways laying beneath the thick stone walls. With most of the fortress essentially turned into one vast storage depot, many of those passages were now covered over and hadn't been seen or used in decades, if not longer. No one knew for certain what secrets those old tunnels held, if any. But The Warden and Alistair intended to find out. Who knows what bits of history they would be able to uncover in those dark depths?

The towers of Castle Cousland rose proudly into the sky, as strong as the family who had called this place home for countless generations. It was here that The Warden spent his childhood days, wandering the myriad of corridors and keeping himself company while his father, Teyrn Bryce Cousland, handled the day-to-day dealings of running the largest teyrnir in Ferelden. Mostly, his childhood was a happy one and he was known to explore every last nook and cranny of his father's vast estate, generally staying out much longer than he was supposed to and drawing a long scolding from his mother. But for all its glory, Castle Cousland was home to many dark memories as well.

It was here that The Warden witnessed his family's betrayal at the hands of Lord Rendon Howe, and the murder of both his parents one cold and bloody night. He and his brother Fergus, the current teyrn of Highever, lost nearly everything they held dear on that fateful night. If not for the intervention of the Grey Warden, Duncan, The Warden, himself, may very well have been counted among those who were lost. It was this defining moment that changed his life forever and sent him on the path to becoming Ferelden's most revered hero since Andraste, herself.

Then, just a few short months ago, the evil priest, Denolian, and his Order of Bohlen, captured the castle and took it for their own, setting fire to the entire village of Highever and burning it to the ground in the process. The priest's mad scheme of turning thousands of his own followers into mindless monsters actually succeeded, and it took all of The Warden's strength and cunning to thwart the mad priest and his vile minions. If not for the aide of his friends and his witch, he would not have been able to send Denolian back to the infernal pit from which he came. Ferelden was still dealing with the after effects of that carnage.

But this time The Warden's visit to his boyhood home was not under such dire circumstances. He was here to bring his young son to visit with the teyrn for a few days while he and Morrigan accompanied Alistair and Dyana on their trip to West Hill. Fergus lost his own young son, Oren, on the night of Howe's attack, and it seemed that having Seth around did much to boost the teyrn's spirits. Much to the chagrin of Morrigan, Fergus spent as much time as he could spoiling the lad. The teyrn showered Seth with all sorts of toys and gifts; the finest that money could buy. The Warden's young son was certainly the envy of any boy in the land.

The king made sure to inform Fergus of the landsmeet while he was there as well. With the three most powerful and influential men in Ferelden all standing together, it would be nearly impossible for the bickering lords to go against any decrees Alistair issued concerning the matters of the northern bannorn. The banns would be forced to cease their squabbles and fall in line behind the king and whatever decisions he made. Such was the way of politics in Ferelden. Alistair's rule was only as safe as the political influence he could support. And no lord was about to go against Fergus, Eamon, and The Warden's wishes. To do so would equate to political suicide.

So with Seth suitably distracted by the newest pile of gifts from his uncle, the parents kissed their son and left him in Fergus' care. The mushiness only served to aggravate the tot, who felt he was only being kept from his newest treasures and that their goodbyes were meant to keep him from his new playthings as long as possible. When Morrigan and The Warden at last departed, Seth tore into the pile like a hungry predator leaping toward its prey. He was too excited to even know which toy to play with first.

"So, am I to understand that you and Alistair will be spending all your time trudging through the bottom of some old dusty fortress?" Morrigan asked from her spot behind The Warden on his horse once they resumed their trek westward.

"That's the plan." he replied.

"Whatever for? What could you possibly hope to find that would be on any use?"

"Who knows? That's part of the fun. We might not find anything at all."

"Or you may find a great deal more than you bargained for."

"You worry too much. Relax a little. It'll be fun."

"As you wish. I shall try." the witch said with a sigh, "but if there is trouble, you can expect no help from me."

"There won't be any trouble, I promise. There are no darkspawn or dragons or any other wicked creatures in West Hill. It's just a bunch of empty passages that have been sealed up for years."

"You had better be right. I'll not risk changing forms to save you, no matter what the circumstance."

"You're really terrified you'll lose this child, too, aren't you?" he asked as he cast her a glance over his shoulder.

"And you are not?"

"I told you, what happened last time was not your fault. Sometimes things just happen."

"I intend to ensure that those things do not happen again."

"Everything is going to be fine. I give you my word."

"Oh, my love, were only it your place to make such a promise. Sadly, however, 'tis something you cannot control."

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