She closed her eyes tight, her reluctance to hurt her hound set in. She heard herself clank to the floor before she felt it. In fact, she didn't feel herself... flinging her eyes open, she realised that indeed, she was still standing. It was Ser Gilmore that was flat on the floor, hound atop him. It was his armour that had clanked to the ground.
"Oh...pup" She whispered quietly. The room was silent enough to hear a dust mote settle on the floor. The Mabari's hackles were up, his teeth bared and growling. After a moment, he clambered off the knight and sat promptly down at Elissa's feet, his stump of a tail flinging rapidly from side to side. Elissa knelt down, embracing her hound.
"Oh I've missed you pup. She kissed his head and ruffled his fur. "Thank the Maker you recognised me." She whispered. She glared at Ser Gilmore for a moment.
"You did tell me yourself didn't you, right before we fought those rats, that Mabari hounds were smart enough not to talk. Guess that is what you get for not listening." She turned back to her Mabari, picking up Gilmore's sword as she stood.
"Good boy! See all those pork bits? They are all for you my pup." She stood, giving a deathly glare to Fergus and Gilmore
"No-one has ever managed to kill me that easily Fergus." She folded her arms again. "You should know that better than anyone."
Gilmore slowly stood to his feet, staring at Elissa with a look of disbelief.
"I did say that." He said slowly. "But what was the last thing I said to you before you vanished out of the castle?"
"I was with my mother" She retorted. "You held the gates for us...though I did believe it would be at the cost of your life." She whispered. "You said...Maker watch over us all." Gilmore was silent then, shaking his head.
"She tells the truth, Teryn" He all but whispered. Elissa held her head her higher, staring Fergus back in the eye.
"Accompany her to a guest room. Guard her at all times. I do not have time right now to sort this mess." Fergus rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. "Guard her...she is not to leave, or to be seen by the King at any cost. He turned then, staring up at the portrait of their mother.
"Pup, come." Elissa ordered. Without hesitation, her hound marched at her side as Ser Gilmore ushered her out of the hall.
"Oh, and Fergus?" She called over her shoulder. "I hope you had fun marching in the rain and the cold."

Ser Gilmore had refused to speak to her. At first he had tried to speak, but the words seemed lost. Elissa stopped abruptly, turning towards the courtyard.
"Spar with me."
"Your pardon?" Ser Gilmore spat.
"I want to test my theory out. "She repeated, shaking her head. "Spar with me."
"I have direct orders to take you to your chambers" he repeated.
"Ser Gilmore, Teryn Bryce Cousland assigned your services to me, not Fergus. I, am ordering you to escort me to the courtyard, and spar with me. Now, whose orders will you follow?" She repeated.
Gilmore paled, looking her in the eyes.
"I cannot disobey the Teryn, my lady." He repeated sadly.
"Then you'll have to catch me" she laughed. Without a second to lose, she took off, her hound bounding along behind her.
"By the Maker...not this again." He muttered.

Fergus sat next to the fire, chewing on what remained of his fingernails. He was sure she was dead. Her closest friends had seen her demise. Then again, one of her closest friends was, according to Alistair, the witch of the wilds. Did she have something to do with her body refusing to burn? Or was it a sign from the Maker, if he even existed, that she was still alive. Maker, the situation was too complicated. If it wasn't her, then how did she know what her last words with Ser Gilmore and himself were? Damn the Maker. He needed to talk to her, but King Alistair was due to meet him any moment now. Would Alistair be able to recognise her? Or would that add injury to insult? No. He couldn't tell Alistair. If she was truly an imposter, then she was at great risk at being called a blood mage. It was all too unreal to act hastily now.

A solid knock on the door broke him out of his conundrum. Alistair strode in, accompanied by a single guard, to the cold stone Elissa's apparent body lay upon. He barely acknowledged Fergus, reaching down to touch her hands. He paused then, panic written across his face.
"Where is her rose? What are these?" He pulled the fresh bouquet out of her limp hands, tossing it to the ground.
"Her what?" Fergus asked "She was holding them."
"No." Alistair shook his head. "She had a rose...I picked for her in Lothering. These were fresh roses. The rose she had was...older." He admitted.
"Maybe someone changed it for a fresh one?" Fergus offered. "Perhaps...they thought she should have a fresh bouquet?" Alistair shook his head furiously.
"No. Lourel?" He turned to his guard. "Go find out the guards who were guarding her body before she was transferred. Find out what happened and return immediately. He sighed, replacing Elissa's cold hands back into their pose on her chest.
"Maker...I am so sorry I didn't take the final blow." He whispered.
"Nay" Fergus whispered. "If I knew her like you did...she wouldn't have let you take that blow."
Alistair chuckled softly. "She didn't. She refused to let me past the city gates. I was hurt...I didn't realise what she was doing until far too late. "
"She was always stubborn." Fergus smiled. "Eventually, our Father gave in to her wild demands. The other Arl's warned him over and over that he was being too permissive with her. Father didn't mind... after all, she was the spitting image of her mother, and her mother had been exactly the same." Alistair smiled back.
"I would wish the world away to see that." He said softly.
They sat in silence in time before Lourel, the guard, came bustling in.
"I found out what happened, your highness." The guard lowered one knee, bowing to Alistair before he motioned for her to stand. "A young woman with fiery red hair came in right before your Coronation. She insisted you had ordered a fresh bouquet. The woman left again abruptly with the rose." Alistair was silent for a moment, his face draining of colour.
"Tell me again...how did they describe her?" He asked, his voice rising in volume.
"She was dressed in leather armour. She was wielding two swords. She had fiery red hair. Perhaps in her early twentieth year? That's all they could tell me."
Fergus froze on the spot, opening his mouth. Could that have been Elissa? He wouldn't have put it past her.

"There...was a woman... in Ser Gilmore's company that matches that description. Ser Lourel, perhaps you should approach her. I believe Ser Gilmore has her in one of the guest chambers under my watch." He said softly.

"No." Alistair said furiously. "I will go. Alone."
"But your highness..." Lourel fumbled. "She may be armed and dangerous" The knight looked flustered for a moment.
"I can take care of myself." Alistair muttered. Fergus stood there, dumfounded.
"Your Highness...at least let me accompany..."
"No." Alistair finished. "This is a direct order. I am to go alone." With a turn of his heel, he half ran out of the room.

Unfortunately for Alistair, all of the guest rooms were empty. Frowning, he walked down past the atrium.
"Looking for something, your highness?" A guard offered.
"A knight by the name of Ser Gilmour." Alistair sighed. "And a woman with fire red hair." He frowned. At this rate, she would be long gone.
"Oh, that way." The guard pointed down to the courtyard. "She wanted him to spar with her, said a few odd things, then took off towards the courtyard. "
"Right...spar." Alistair nodded. He didn't walk to the courtyard. Alistair ran.

Sure enough, there she was, absolutely plastered in sweat with two long daggers at her ready. She looked exhausted...but she was moving like fluid. The knight seemed completely incapable of keeping up with her, but she seemed gracious enough to allow him the attempt. Her red hair was unkempt and full of curls. The curls were tied together tightly behind her head, a rose – that rose – carefully tied into the red curls. He felt his heart flip. The Mabari...her Mabari was lazily lying to the side, watching her move, his stump of a tail swinging side to side.
They moved the same.

Alistair snatched a sword and shield from the armour racks, approaching the duelling couple.
"May have this dance?" He joked. She froze then as Gilmore backed away, lowering her daggers. He saw the fear in her eyes, the unfamiliar green eyes piercing his.
"As you wish...Ali...your highness" she finished. Carefully, she returned to a defensive pose, motioning him to make the first move. As they parried and feinted, he could see parts of Leliana's style...Zevran's...and mostly, hers. She moved the same, in safe, curving arcs. They looked none alike, but she still moved the same, much like a dignified zombie.
"What is your name?" He asked.
"I can't tell you" She replied between breaths. "I really can't."
"Then tell me why you have a rose that belongs to the love of my life." He retorted.
She took that opportunity to disarm him, his sword scattering across the courtyard. A few guards raised their brow, although Elissa did nothing but to sheath the two daggers.
"It didn't belong in the grave." She retorted back. "Nor was it to burn...although truth be told, I don't understand why it didn't" she whispered.
"How did you know that." He asked. "What do you know about her body? Why didn't it burn?"
"Very little, I'm afraid." She said quietly. "I'm lost in the dark, much like you are." Without hesitation, she undid her hair, carefully passing the rose to Alistair.
"If you insist...I will give it back to you. Now...if you don't mind, I have direct orders to be locked in my room, apparently." She turned away, the red curls tumbling down her back. Alistair stood there, feeling fixed to the spot as she took off down the hallway, Ser Gilmore trailing hopelessly behind her.