"Aleron - Aleron." Bethany may have been pushed back a step or two, and the shock itself had surprised her enough that she allowed his panicked tirade to continue ... but then he tried to stand. All of her instincts kicked in - the protective, and loving wife who once sat on Aleron to keep him in bed while he nursed his way through a nasty cold.

This same wife stood in front of him, pushing him down back on the bed by the shoulders, "Aleron Darton, you listen to me. We are in Orzammar. The only way they are getting in here is if they are willing to piss off the dwarves -- and they aren't. They need lyrium. Could they have gotten a spy in here? Possibly. But my darling one..."

Here her eyes flicker, just slightly, "I have taught them to regret that, over the years. So please, lay back down. Relax. I'm safe here - you're safe. You shouldn't excite yourself ... "

It would only worsen his condition -- and it was coming clear to her that it was as grave as they told her it was.