We’re nearing the end of the Origins timeline, and because I’ve had so much fun escaping in this world, I’ve decided to go off canon after the events of the first game and write a few more chapters.  I’m currently at the 60,000 words mark and counting…oh, how one little Writing Prompt created such inspiration…

Chapter IV – Denerim and the Final Battle

I

One night, while organizing my thoughts and flipping through my notes, I came across this folded up piece of paper tucked between the leaves of my journal. I’m not quite certain when I planned to include it, some time after saving the Arl, but it got lost in the shuffle.

I watched as Alistair continued to rush to the front of the fighting, but as he had made the decision to remain with us, I could not let my attention rest solely on his well-being, each of my new friends deserved as much. Regardless, I would let my gaze linger, or find it returned to him often to ensure he remained unharmed. I had promised the Arl I would do my best to keep him safe, although I had not shared that information with Alistair, of course. Even without such a promise, it was something I was prone to do anyway.

How those words still rang true.

 ~*~

The thought of returning to Denerim was a welcome one. Not only did it mean we were just a few steps closer to resolving the civil war and uniting against the Blight, but it was also possible that another letter from Cullen could be waiting for me. I was in love with Alistair, there was no question, but there was something unique about my friendship with Cullen. I had never received a letter before the one I got from Cullen. My family had cut all ties with me when I was taken away, and I grew up with a feeling that I wasn’t important to anyone.

Even upon leaving the Circle with Duncan, no one said they would miss me, or hoped they would receive a letter of my well being. I knew I didn’t have any close friends there, but that had been rather eye opening. Having someone tell me they looked forward to hearing from me, knowing that someone was worried about me, an actual friend, was a new experience.

Upon entering Denerim, a messenger from the Arl intercepted us and informed us that the Arl was both awaiting our arrival and inviting us to stay at his estate. As we had a great many things to discuss with him, we made our way there first. I could take some time for myself after meeting with Eamon and see if there was any news waiting for me at the tavern.

The Arl’s Denerim estate was palatial, to say the least. The grand entrance led in a number of directions to a great dining hall, a lovely library, and many lavishly furnished rooms. Our companions went directly to the dining hall when a servant directed that Alistair and I follow them to meet with the Arl.

The Arl was warm and welcoming, and when Alistair and I met with him he embraced me like an old friend. It made me blush. There was such kindness about him, but there was also a feeling of great strength just under the surface. Old age had most likely softened him some, that and having a family, but he had most likely been quite formidable in his youth.

It was while talking with him that we learned of Queen Anora’s fate. According to her maid, Erlina, Arl Rendon Howe had kidnapped her. The whole matter was rather unsettling for many reasons. The primary one being that as a friend of Loghain’s, what purpose did he have in taking the Queen hostage?

Erlina crafted a plan to sneak us into the estate using disguises and side entrances. It was once we were inside we learned the extent of Howe’s treachery. Not only did he have a mage in his employ, one that had warded Anora’s room from being breached, but he also had secrets in the lower levels that would prove most beneficial to our cause.

The metallic scent of blood wafted through the corridors; growing stronger the further we traveled downward. Moans echoed throughout the darkened hallways, as did other sinister sounds I hoped not to discover the source of. As had become habit, we searched chests and cupboards for things that might be of use to us, and if we were able to take anything that might result in vexing Loghain and his “friends”, all the better.

What I did not expect to find were papers belonging to the Grey Wardens that detailed the Joining, nor shortly thereafter, a Grey Warden himself. We encountered a number of prisoners within the dungeons, many of whom would aid our cause upon their release, but none such a welcome sight as that of Riordan.

Another Warden. And a senior member at that. The things he could tell us. The things he knew. And so close to when we desperately needed advice and aid. The Maker had surely smiled upon us.

Time was not on our side, so we freed everyone we could, and told Riordan to seek refuge with the Arl. We dealt with Howe and his mage, but when the proverbial light at the end of this debacle seemed close at hand, Ser Cauthrien and a retinue of Loghain’s men proved a greater obstacle than we could have imagined. We were completely outnumbered, and at a serious disadvantage within the walls of the estate. There was no room to fight. It was as if we were purposefully lead there to be captured, and captured we were.

I remember wondering at the time if Anora’s “kidnapping” had been a ploy designed to bring us within Loghain’s reach? I wondered if she were at all trustworthy? But the last thing I remembered before losing consciousness from a blow to the back of the head was watching the safe retreat of my companions. The trap had been set for me and Alistair, and they barely took a second glance at the others, I thought thankfully.

They hadn’t killed us. That was comforting, as was the thought that our friends were on the outside, probably thinking up a crazy scheme to help us escape.

No other force had been lucky enough to take us down – it was not a good feeling. I discovered I really did not like to lose.

~*~

I wasn’t certain what had started me awake – the unsettling sounds coming from the dark, the throbbing of my head, or the deep chill upon my skin. I awoke to find myself in Alistair’s protective embrace, on the cold stone floor of a prison cell, in nothing but my smallclothes. Looking up to his face, past the bare expanse of his chest, I said teasingly, “It’s a shame we are unable to take advantage of this privacy, given our situation is so dire.”

He gave me a look, one that said he couldn’t believe I could make a joke at such a time, and laughed in spite of himself. “Yes, unfortunately this is no time for romance.”

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit cell. We were against the wall furthest from the cell door. I sat up slowly, wincing with every movement, then immediately turned my attention to Alistair. He looked unharmed. I traced my fingers lightly over various parts of his body, taking no note of any injury.

“I’m fine.” He reassured me. “How’s your head?” He gently touched the side of my face.

“Should I be concerned that there are two of you? Or should I rejoice?”

He shook his head. “I love you.”

“And because I love you, I’m going to get us out of here.”

“Ah, there’s that practicality I adore.”

I shivered when I stood up away from Alistair’s warmth. “I’m sure our friends are planning a rescue, but I refuse to wait, wondering what inventive methods of detainment Loghain and his lackeys may devise now that we are within arm’s reach.” I would not give him the satisfaction. We were getting out. I didn’t know how, but we had become pretty adept at thinking on our feet, but first thing first. We had to get out of the cell.

Cue the guard, and my first attempt at using what Zevran referred to as my “feminine wiles”.

~*~

Escaping Fort Drakon had taken longer than I anticipated. It was a multi-storied building that housed an entire garrison; every corner we turned we encountered more of them. When we were finally free of it, we made our hasty return to Eamon’s to ensure the safety of our friends, and to learn what further trickery Anora and her father had planned.

Anora, of course, played the innocence card, and as I looked at her, with her cool demeanor, it was hard to tell if she were telling the truth. I didn’t trust her, and as I listened to her haughty explanation I kind of wanted to punch her in the face. As queen, she had learned to play a game Alistair and I were still unaware of. Eamon seemed to trust her, to some extent, and when she informed us about the unrest in the alienage, and that she believed her father was somehow involved, we all agreed it was at least worth investigating.

Eamon warned Alistair and I about trusting anyone this close to the Landsmeet. Politics in general were a messy business, but with the country so divided, tensions were even higher. Grey Wardens still held some reverence with the people, but as Loghain’s enemies, there were those who would be happy to garner more favor by ridding Ferelden of the couple that remained.

With that thought, Alistair and I found Riordan to learn what we could from him. He was weakened from his internment, but had otherwise remained fairly unharmed. He had been captured while following the darkspawn, and he had a great deal to share with us. As a senior member of the order, his knowledge and advice was something both Alistair and I needed desperately. Duncan had left us so soon, and Riordan was impressed by what we had been able to accomplish.

Having Riordan by our side brought a sense of comfort I had not expected to find. Alistair and I had not been alone in our journey, but as junior members of the Order, we had been forging ahead almost blindly. Had it not been for the treaties, we would have been lost after Ostagar. The treaties had given us purpose, something to do, and our travels had barely kept us out of our enemy’s hands, but we had survived nearly a year by the Maker’s good grace and garnered a number of allies along the way.

Riordan found this most impressive, especially in light of the fact that I had become a Warden at Ostagar and knew almost nothing of what was expected from a member of the Order. He praised Duncan for his uncanny ability to choose members wisely. Such high praise made me blush. I knew we had been effective, but to hear we had done the unexpected and most likely accomplished more than a seasoned Warden might have made me exceedingly proud.

The Grey Wardens had not long been welcomed back to Ferelden since their exile centuries before, so when he shared with us the location of a Grey Warden vault within the city, he was uncertain as to usefulness and state of the items that might be found within. It was kept for the defense of the city, but he wasn’t familiar with how regularly it might be maintained. Alistair and I agreed that it was definitely worth searching. Besides the weapons or armor, there could be Warden relics that needed to be salvaged and restored to the Order.

We had been planning on heading into the market district to sell unwanted items and upgrade the party’s weapons and armor, so discovering what was lying in wait within the vault, which had completely piqued our interest, became a priority. And getting out into the city gave me an opportunity to pop into the local tavern for, hopefully, a little reading material.

II

The vault had not only proven useful, but profitable as well. When Alistair and I entered the room, we both felt a sense of…it was a hard feeling to describe. It was akin to pride or honor, knowing that our brothers and sisters in arms had been coming here for many years to protect the city. Many things had remained undisturbed for some time; there was a fine layer of dust upon almost everything, except for one weapon stand.

It was an emotional moment when we discovered something unexpected – Duncan’s shield.

According to Alistair, Duncan had been a skilled fighter, but was especially accomplished in his double dagger wielding. Looking at the shield, I was reminded of the first time I saw Duncan in the tower. He had been speaking with the First Enchanter. I remembered being impressed by the daggers he wore. They seemed as much a part of him as any limb.

My mind then traveled to our time spent together on the road. I never had the privilege of watching him in action. We had encountered not one adversary on the road, and instead spent out time learning a little of the other. Trying to build my confidence in my new destiny, he had shared with me how he had been conscripted into the Wardens. He had been a thief who had found himself in dire straits, so to speak. He hadn’t gone into too much detail, but he assured me that no matter our station, we could make a difference.

His eyes were kind and wise. They had seen much. He shared a few stories of his time with the Wardens, how he had, at first, resented them, but that he learned to appreciate the noble mission with which the Wardens had been tasked.

His words had always stayed with me, and despite our short time together I knew it was his faith in me that had helped me to make the decisions I had. Although he had not lived long after my joining to see the Warden I had become, I hoped he was proud. I touched the shield fondly at the thought.

We could not know how his shield had come to reside here or why, perhaps he had left it here when he had passed through Denerim, but with a great deal of reverence, it became Alistair’s.

~*~

Alistair offered to speak with Master Wade about armor upgrades while I returned to the Wonders of Thedas shop for a new staff. Once Alistair was out of sight, I made my way to the Gnawed Noble first instead. I felt a pang of guilt for keeping such a secret, and that made me question the reasoning behind the secrecy.

Would it pain Alistair to know that I had maintained a relationship with the Templar? Would he question my need to keep it from him? I had to wonder at that myself, and why I hadn’t shared with Cullen my relationship with Alistair. I didn’t feel as if I were being unfaithful to Alistair, and it’s not as if Cullen and I shared any romantic words or affection, other than friendship, within the letters, but somehow I felt that there was a note of betrayal in my actions, on both sides.

As I took two letters from the bartender, a flicker of a thought began to nag at the back of my mind. I found a chair tucked away in the corner of the back room to sink into, and then it all came rushing forward.

Unconsciously, had I put Cullen on reserve? Upon learning that one of the most powerful men in Ferelden wished Alistair to become king, I knew our relationship was doomed, and without any premeditation, I had kept Cullen close. As what? A back-up? Was I capable of such action? As this line of thought became clearer…maybe, I was.

I was disgusted with myself.

I had become well versed in deception, so much so that I was able to deceive even myself. I had been telling myself for months that we were friends; never letting my mind wander to that night we shared. It had been wonderful, and aside from the few days afterward, I had put it out of my mind. Alistair and I had begun to build something, and I couldn’t let that passionate encounter linger beyond its time.

I was so confused. I clutched his letters tightly in my lap and asked the Maker for clarity. Was I being too hard on myself? Just because such thoughts had entered my mind, did that mean that was the truth of my motives? I loved Alistair, more than I thought possible, and even knowing the fate of our relationship, I wasn’t looking to replace him. How could I?

There were still so many unknowns in our journey; it was a foolish notion to even think I had thought so far into the future, subconsciously or otherwise. No, I had to trust my judgment, as I had all this time. So why then had I kept each of them secret from the other?

I believed that Alistair might be affronted by the idea that I would want to remain friends with someone I had shared such intimacy. He had known of Cullen’s affections, despite his inaction, and because I had kept my correspondence quiet for so long, it would be easy to conclude that there were romantic elements that required such covert means. It could be presumed that the secretive nature of our letters was because we were building upon that night, although neither of us had brought it up. We had, in fact, only shared one letter each, until I received the two I was now holding, which made me look down on them and wonder at their contents.

Keeping Alistair from Cullen, on the other hand, was harder to pinpoint. Cullen had left Kinloch, and the country, because of what had happened there. We had decided to remain friends, and initially the words had been just that, words – words meant to reassure – but they had become the foundation for what was becoming, what I considered, a true friendship, almost as dear to me as those of my companions. So why was I afraid to share my love for Alistair with Cullen?

In the first letter I had written, there had not been much to tell. It had still been early on, and I knew Cullen was in a fragile state, so there had been no need to share the inconsequential details of what was basically a crush. But since that letter, so much had happened, and I had still chosen to leave Alistair’s importance to me out of the subsequent letter that now sat neatly tucked away in my journal.

My life had become an open tome, as it were, but my communication with Cullen was something that was just for me. It was an aspect of my life that no one had a part of, and that had become important to me. My intimate moments with Alistair had been practically witnessed by the rest of our party, as had every other aspect of our relationship. The others each had comments to make, and we had never enjoyed the privacy that I can imagine other couples must. Our relationship did not belong to just us, so perhaps that was why I had chosen not to share it with Cullen. Let there be at least one person in all of Thedas who would not give me their opinion.

As I sat reasoning with myself, those answers felt closer to the truth than my original thoughts, and a sort of calm came over me. When had I become so dramatic? I shook my head, chastising myself, and proceeded to open his letters. I had little time to dedicate to their length, he had written me quite a bit, so I gave them a quick perusal to reassure myself of his well-being.

He still called me Spitfire, which I adored, and from what I could tell he seemed to have found a rhythm in his new routine. He mentioned that he had been sharing his quarters with a man named Samson, and although he wrote that he felt they were doing good work, there was a tone of bitterness I could sense in some of his phrases. I wanted to study his words more closely, but it would have to wait, which was disappointing.

I took my letter to him from my journal and paid the barkeep for his services and discretion, and quickly made my way to the Wonders of Thedas before anyone noticed I was not taking care of business.

~*~

We would not investigate the alienage until the following day. After all our traveling, we needed a hot meal that consisted of more than just stew, a long, hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. Being given the opportunity to sleep uninterrupted the whole night through, not having to take shifts…well, that was an opportunity we were not going to let pass us by.

Arl Eamon had a feast prepared for us. It was meant to celebrate our accomplishments in attaining the allies needed for the fight against the Blight, but it was clear from some of the other guests in attendance that this was meant to be Alistair’s introduction as the heir apparent.

Alistair and I were seated next to the Arl while our companions were seated further down the long table. In what was clearly a strategic move, Eamon seated a few of the nobles across from us. I fixed a small smile upon my face and gave Alistair a knowing look. He gave me the slightest head nod, understanding what this meant for the evening.

The nobles were a sly bunch. They asked us questions about our journey and the decisions we were forced to make in many of the situations we had encountered. No one came right out and asked us what we thought about Alistair being king, but it was evident from their line of questioning that they were trying to decide whether he would be a good king or a good puppet.

Looking at the two of us, from their perspective, it was easy to understand their skepticism of us. Alistair and I were young, but together we had accomplished great feats. We were human, but we had been able to garner favor with both elves and dwarves. We were Wardens, but we were junior members of the Order, and yet we were capable of uniting the country. Sitting there, side by side, I can imagine we made quite the picture. Neither Alistair nor I had any airs about us. We were just two people thrown into a chaotic situation, doing what had to be done. The men that sat across from us were older, and maybe they weren’t resentful of us, but there were too many examples of them expressing their disbelief at our accomplishments.

I was growing resentful of them. Did they believe we were exaggerating our exploits? “We did none of this alone.” I began. “We were joined by those seated beside you; each of them a master of their craft. If you find fault with us,” I motioned to Alistair and myself, “or if the scar in my side from a giant spider in the Deep Roads does not prove to you the validity of our endeavors, then perhaps one of them would be better suited to assuage your doubts, for they were with us every step of the way.” I let my hand drift along the length of the table to where our friends sat. At this they each turned challenging gazes toward the nobles. Perhaps the nobles had not taken a head count of those attending the dinner party, but when they turned their eyes to the witch, the Qunari, the elf, the dwarf, the golem, and the mabari with a bone nearly as big as he dangling from his mouth, it effectively silenced further admonishment.

Eamon laughed heartily at this, and diverted the attention from our journey to the task that still lay before us all, the Landsmeet. Alistair took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I felt a blush warming its way up my cheeks. I took a deep breath as he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I love that fire in you.”

I swayed towards him, as I always did, but I kept it minimal. The men seated across from us would surely have an opinion on such matters. If this was just a sample of what life would be like at court, I had to wonder how any of us would get on? I had learned from Leliana that Orlesian nobility wore masks, it was part of “the game”, and although the nobles here wore no such adornment, they were definitely hiding behind their own veneer.

I met his affectionate expression with one of my own, but said nothing – too many eyes and ears.

After dinner, we each retired to our own room; no more sharing tents, at least for the time being, soft beds instead of rough ground, and solid, insulated walls instead of fabric. I entered my room to find a large bathing tub near the fire, the water still warm. Without a second thought, I slipped off my robes and left them where they fell to sink into the refreshing rose-scented warmth.

I didn’t quite fit in the tub, so I dangled my feet outside while I submerged the rest of myself completely. I took a deep breath and forced myself below the surface. There was no sound, and with my eyes closed, there was no light, just the all-encompassing warmth and the feeling of my heart’s rhythmic beat. I stayed like that for as long as I could, missing the soft knocking at my door apparently in the mean time, because when I reemerged, I screamed to find Alistair watching me from the other end.

He laughed and nearly fell over. “You’ve faced darkspawn and dragons, and yet my sudden appearance is what scares you?”

“You caught me off guard is all. I wasn’t sure to expect you.”

“We can finally share a proper bed with thick walls between us and our friends and you thought you were going to sleep alone?” He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Well, if you plan on sharing my bed, then you’ll have to bathe first. You smell like Keiko.” I bit back my teasing smile.

He flung each piece of armor and leather off in quick, dramatic movements until he was plunging himself into the tub with me. “We Fereldans take that as a compliment, you know.” Water sloshed in every direction and continued to do so as he pulled me onto his lap.

I laughed playfully. “It’s no wonder than that the nobles weren’t offended.”

“I find it amusing that you think you smelled any better.”

I feigned shock at such a statement, and he laughed again. “You’re lucky I already love you, for such words would help you not.”

He placed both hands on either side of my face, and gently stoked my cheek, as he looked deep into my eyes. “I don’t know how any of my clumsy words allowed me to be so lucky.”

We kissed deeply, our passion quickly igniting, but instead of hurrying our bathing time, we made use of it. We continued our playful banter while washing each other. I reheated the water twice, but we, neither, felt any urgency to curtail the fun we were having, so we stayed in the water until our skin became water logged.

We then sat naked in front of the fire while he towel dried my hair. We were alone, finally – it was what we had long needed, and it was everything I had hoped it would be. We were being ourselves – this was nothing new, except we were free from burden and eavesdroppers. And we were enjoying each other – we didn’t have to constrain ourselves, and this was the first glimpse of what Alistair and Bryn could be like…after? Before my mind started its descent I leaned back against him and rested my head upon his shoulder. He wrapped his limbs about me and pulled me tight against his chest, kissing my temple, and sighing deeply.

“I’m of the mind to test our Warden stamina.” He whispered seductively before kissing my shoulder.

I scoffed. “You think you’re up for such a challenge?” I turned toward him and saw the twinkle of deviousness lingering in his eyes.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

I smiled brightly. “I am indeed.”

We spent the night teasing and fondling, making passionate love and laughing as only we could. I remembered being struck by the thought that this was one of the happiest moments of my life. Alistair was responsible for many of them, but this one in particular had resonated with me. It was a memorable evening, and although we had both joked about the sleep we were neglecting, it was definitely worth missing.

As it turns out, Warden stamina has a reputation for a reason.

III

The history of the elves was common knowledge, but seeing an alienage first hand delivered quite the effective blow. Many of my fellow mages felt that the Circles were nothing more than prisons, and to some degree that was true. As Circle mages we were under constant watch from the Templars, and had no freedom outside the tower walls. If we escaped those chains, we were called apostates and hunted down.

City elves seemed to fair little better. Elves had lost their identity, their history, and their culture. They had become slaves, and were considered the lowest class citizen. For those who were lucky enough to escape those shackles, they were forced to live in slums. Denerim’s alienage was in stark contrast to the rest of the city – and to think I was staying in a palace just a short distance away. I shook my head at the sad state of such a living.

The alienage had been in lockdown for some time under a claim of plague, but upon speaking to some of the residents, it was clear there was something amiss. People were disappearing, and because of the elves status, no one was willing to help them. Well, we weren’t going to let that stand.

I had to wonder what possible gain Loghain would hope to achieve here?

After a bit of snooping and sneaking about, and a great deal of fighting, we learned the truth. The “plague” was a ruse to abduct elves for the slave trade for monetary gain – and we had the papers to prove Loghain’s involvement.

The whole thing made me sick, and we were all shocked that a man who was considered a hero could do something so heinous to a people who were already so vulnerable.

Among those we were able to free was a man named Valendrian, the elves’ Elder, and an old friend of Duncan’s. He was grateful for our intervention, and was kind enough to share some memories of Duncan, which both Alistair and I appreciated. I couldn’t help but feel guilty that although we had put an end to the abductions, there was little, if anything, we could do for those who had already been sold. It saddened me to think of their fate.

We left the alienage armed with more evidence of Loghain’s treachery, and wishes that we could do more for the elven people. Perhaps this could be addressed in the Landsmeet, although I was unfamiliar with the details of the proceedings. I glanced at Alistair as we made our way back to the market district and wondered if, or when he became king, would he do more for them?

I had barely finished the thought when we were set upon by a group of Crows. Zevran was not overly surprised to find an old friend leading them, a man named Taliesen. Zevran and I had talked a little about his friendship with this man, and a woman named Rinna. They had trained together, and eventually became romantically involved until Rinna’s untimely death. Zevran had admitted that he was a changed man afterward, and his willingness to accept the Warden assassination contract was in the hopes it would turn out to be a suicide mission.

Obviously, he had never planned to befriend the mark, since he was an expert at keeping his personal and professional sides separate, so one could imagine my delight at learning I was the exception to that rule. He had assured me I was an anomaly, and if such a fact were to get out it would tarnish his well earned reputation. I had seen a different side of Zev that night, and I had smiled brightly at him in return.

Seeing him now, defending me against his old friend, I was overcome with emotion. When I had realized that I was basically friendless in the Circle, I could never have imagined that within a short time there would be people around me who would risk their own lives for mine. The man standing beside me, the man who had been sent to kill me was now fighting his friend in my defense. It seemed a strange thing to say, given the circumstances, but I felt very lucky. Life certainly had a strange way of turning out.

Taliesen had insinuated that Zevran had gone soft, but as we stood over his corpse, the ruthless assassin in Zev had seemed to return. He was reinvigorated. His freedom had been hard won, a freedom to choose his own destiny, and with that newfound freedom he chose to stay by my side. Once again, all I could do was smile.

~*~

The time had come for the Landsmeet.

In spite of the evidence we had against Loghain, which was great, I was nervous for what it all meant. I didn’t know the ways of politics outside the Circle, or ending a civil war, or even uniting everyone for a common cause, but here I was, walking into the thick of it for all those reasons. I didn’t have long to worry about nerves, for we were once again set upon by Ser Cauthrien and her men.

This time, things went differently.

We had learned to talk our way in and out of any number of situations, and this time, Cauthrien saw reason, because she too had seen what Loghain had become. I was able to persuade her to step aside and avoid further bloodshed. She seemed a reasonable woman, and understood our mission. Seeing her again, knowing how things had ended last time we were face to face, I had a pit in my stomach, but we came to an agreement, nonetheless, for the common good.

As we stepped through the doors into the great hall, the once hero now turned villain stood at the other end.

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir.

The Hero of River Dane made an imposing figure in his heavy silverite armor, a great broadsword upon his back, flanked on either side by his men. As we made our way forward, I couldn’t help but second guess his intentions. Did he mean to abide whatever rules governed the Landsmeet?

His features were hard. He had a long, straight nose with piercing eyes and lips that he held in a tight line as he looked us over. His hair was still as jet black as the stories had depicted when he fought beside King Maric to save Ferelden from Orlais. To know the kind of man he had been – honorable, brave, loyal – it was hard to believe he had become a man who would betray his best friend’s son in order to usurp his throne.

When it came time to present our evidence against him, I made sure I delivered it in a particular order to ensure the best response from the nobles. I couldn’t call him a traitor for leaving the battlefield at Ostagar; he was a seasoned warrior, and I was a mage of no consequence. Each word had to be chosen wisely, deliberately, and in the end, I had turned the majority of the nobles to our side, but, in an unexpected turn of events, Loghain rallied against us – calling us all traitors.

He wanted to duel…me.

I made an off-handed comment that with my magic he would be dead before he even reached for his blade, and Alistair offered to fight in my stead. The agreement left my lips even as my head was disagreeing, and I was forced to stand on the sidelines, my stomach in my boots, my heart in my throat, and watch my lover fight the man who had wanted us dead for nearly a year.

We had fought so many creatures, many of which were more dangerous than any human, that I was sure Alistair would be victorious. In addition to his youth and stamina, increased due to the taint, he was a skilled warrior. Loghain on the other hand was more experienced, battle-hardened, and clearly a changed man since his days as a “hero”.

Watching them circle one another, prepared to kill one another, is a moment I shall never forget.

It was easy to hate the man, he had done so many things to earn it, but he had not always been this man. He had taken a path that had brought him here, and that was something I could not forget either. His reasoning may have become skewed, but that did not diminish his intent.

My fingernails dug little crescent moons into my palms because I was clenching my hands so tightly in an effort to not send a stream of lightening or fireball at Loghain’s smug face. My breaths were shallow, when I remembered to breathe, and sweat gathered on my upper lip. My heart beats were erratic, and I could feel the tension in the room, not only from our companions, but from everyone in attendance.

This was a moment that would change…everything.

Alistair had the upper hand, and before delivering the final blow, Riordan interceded. Loghain was an ideal candidate to become a Warden, and because there were so few of us, any help should be procured.

Alistair and I stared at one another in utter disbelief. To suggest we fight alongside the man who had tried to kill us on more than one occasion, the man who we felt was responsible for both King Cailan and Duncan’s deaths…it was too much to bear. It was too much to ask of us.

Anora then stepped in. Knowing that not everyone who took part in the Joining survived, we could have our vengeance in that regard, or gain a skilled asset to the cause. Alistair was adamantly opposed to the idea, and I agreed with him.

So with a final swing of his sword, it was over.

Loghain’s body lay haphazard in the center of the hall, Anora a short distance from him, having fainted at the sight of his fall.

In the aftermath, there was chaos; Loghain’s men looked to retaliate, the Arl’s men came to our defense, and when order was restored, Alistair was named king.

As the words left the Arl’s mouth, Alistair and I made eye contact and my heart sank.

What was worse, I agreed.

And there it was.

Our time was over. Grey Warden or no, I was a mage. Even had I been born to a noble family, I would have no place beside a king.

We had been foolish to let ourselves become so invested. Happy moments from only a day earlier flashed before my eyes, and I felt the first sting of tears. I forced them back and swallowed the lump in my throat. Since the Arl had first mentioned Alistair’s potential we had stopped discussing our future because we always knew it would lead here.

There was unity now, and the people cheered, but I did not hear it. I barely remembered Leliana and Morrigan leading me out of the hall. I was both numb and heavy, crushed under the weight of my actions.

IV

We returned to the Arl’s estate and awaited Alistair and Eamon’s return. I paced for a short time, wondering how we were to proceed given this change, when I heard the familiar clink of Alistair’s footsteps upon the stone floor. I turned to face the doorway with as much dignity as I could muster, my back straight, despite the fact that I could feel my heart breaking.

As Alistair strode in, a look of determination upon his face, he started a speech that sounded less like him and more like those who had begun to rally to his side. He would need to marry, because as the taint shortened a Warden’s life span, he would need to provide an heir. Obviously, I could not be his wife, and the people would demand a legitimate heir – no more of this bastard prince business.

I heard his words, and felt myself disconnect from it all. After all it had taken to bring us together, one word had torn us apart. For all his talk of love, and despite knowing that this exact scenario was to happen, I was angry with him for letting go so easily. I wanted to fight for us. I wantedhim to fight for us.

I thought about using my increasing powers of persuasion to make him realize we had options, but at the same time, I wanted him to come to those conclusions on his own. I realize in writing that, that it’s a very woman-like thing to say, but I didn’t care. I had been left to make the decisions on our journey, but if he was planning on ruling a country, he could at least start with his heart. But as I searched his eyes, mine swimming with unshed tears, I didn’t see any fight in him, no remorse. How could it just be over for him?

In the end, we left many things unsaid, like always.

I felt the air go out of the room, and I felt sick, but somehow I kept myself together. Although it might have been those first twinges of bitter anger swelling in my depths that aided me in this time of need. The conversation left me with a feeling of wanting. It was one thing to think the thoughts, but it was another to have everyone agree – I was unworthy.

I could risk my life to stop the civil war and the Blight, I could even make a score of important decisions, including making Alistair king, but as a mage, I was, and would always be, a second-class citizen, and not one of the right stock to be queen. It was infuriating and insulting, and to know Alistair felt the same, or was at least willing to listen and consider such ideas was a slap in the face.

The tense mood in the room dissipated when Alistair left us, and my shoulders slumped in angry defeat. I watched him walk away, my breaths coming quickly as I willed myself not to cry. I would not cry. But the more I tried to stop the tears, the harder they tried to make themselves evident. I could feel my friends all silently looking at one another questioning what they should do, and it was Sten who finally stepped up beside me.

My large, taciturn friend.

Taking my hand, he placed it in the crook of his arm, as he had seen Alistair do, and led me quietly out of the Arl’s study and down the main hall. Leliana’s calm, reassuring voice resounded that, despite appearances, she was certain that things would work out as the Maker intended. One had to appreciate her effort.

The group decided to head to the dining hall, but I was in no mood for company. I patted Sten’s arm in silent thanks and made my way to the library instead. I hadn’t sat with a book since before leaving the Circle, and I still had Cullen’s letters to read. As I entered the library, despite the obviousness that it wasn’t the same as the one in the Circle, it felt like I was visiting an old friend. Our lives would be very different from this moment on, and the timing for such a diversion felt right.

I needed the solitude, if only for a little while, and I needed to gather my thoughts and emotions, and put this whole event into perspective.

The library was quaint, but it contained a few perfect hiding places where I could easily tuck myself away. I picked up the first book whose binding caught my eye. It could have been about blood mages from Tevinter or how to properly train a mabari for all I knew. I stared blindly at the pages while I tried to quiet my mind from the day’s events, and ignore the lump that seemed to have permanently lodged itself in my chest.

Clearly something so mundane would be impossible to hold my interest given my state of mind, so I reached into my pack for Cullen’s letters. I held them in my hands, staring at the purposeful strokes his quill had made of the word “Spitfire”. The revelry from the dining hall echoed throughout the estate, drawing my attention to the matter at hand.

I was hiding. Tucked away in a corner, I was avoiding the stares and the comments and the wonderings. There was cause for celebration. Now that the country had come together with a new king to lead them and a plan to fight the Blight, there was a sense of relief and purpose, and it had been hard won. I should join in the festivities. I had every reason to as the leader of the group responsible, and I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, or a sore loser, of sorts, but I also didn’t want to have to put on airs for those who had already made their minds up about me.

Maker’s Breath!

I tossed the book aside and stared at the letters again, wondering if I should at least read them before rejoining my friends. If I entered the hall now, the others in attendance would only think I had freshened up after the day’s events, and so I tucked the letters away again, and made my way to the dining hall, cursing under my breath the entire way. Thanks to Oghren, I had learned some new ones.

I entered the hall and scanned the room for my companions. Of course they were huddled together on the opposite side of the room, which meant I would have to cross all those fake smiles and well-wishers first.

I don’t think I would enjoy court life much come to think of it.

~*~

The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly enough – after a little wine, some food, and merry conversation. Alistair was being ushered about the room, from noble to noble, and from the look of him, he was doing his absolute best to not run screaming from the room. A darkspawn horde would probably have been a more welcome sight to him at the moment.

I felt a pang of sympathy for him, and had things not transpired as they had, I would have happily helped him, but my anger would not allow me to offer him such aid right now. I was still raw from his inflicted wound. Let him learn what his life would be like…without me.

My eyes were drawn to him as they always were; a year of watching over him would be a hard habit to break. He must have felt my gaze, because each time he would turn sad eyes toward me that would then turn hopeful when we met. That alone made me turn away each time severing the connection. I would do nothing to let him think that I was anything but adverse to him. I wouldn’t let my emotional state affect our plans, but for tonight, I would allow my anger free reign – it wasn’t so much anger as it was hurt – but for the best interest of the group and our goal, I knew I could not hold onto these feelings beyond the evening.

When it was acceptable to do so, I bid everyone a good evening and left for the peace and quiet of my room, avoiding Alistair’s eyes completely. A warm glow from the fire bathed my room in amber light. I closed the door and sank heavily against it, sighing with relief that I had made it through the evening without incident. Keiko, who was already asleep at the foot of the bed, barely raised his head to acknowledge my entrance before curling up into a tight ball and falling back to sleep.

The fluffy comfort of the bed was inviting, and it promised a sweet release from my troubled spirit. I flung my clothes off haphazardly and crawled onto the mattress determined to forget the day. It was at that moment Alistair appeared.

He was a shadow in my doorway, his expression unreadable, and yet I heard his breath falter. “Please forgive me.”

The tears I had worked so hard to contain all night finally broke free, and now they spilled from my eyes in a steady stream. I was sad and angry and hurt, and I wanted him to understand what he had done. I strode across the room, in nothing but my smalls to confront him, my magic flickering in one hand desperate to find a target. “You cast me aside at a moment’s notice.”

With a wave of his hand, his Templar training disrupted my magic, but he said nothing.

The other hand lit up. “Until today you let me decide everything, and at your first opportunity to make your own decision, you chose to rid yourself of me.” I stopped short of reaching him, afraid that I might actually strike out at him.

This time he didn’t counter my move. “That’s not why I said what I did.”

I saw his first tear fall, and I couldn’t bear it. I turned away from him. I closed my eyes and willed my magic to subside, but instead, both hands lit up. Clearly my emotions were getting the better of me. I clenched my fists in anger. “I never expected you to discard me so easily.”

His hands were on my upper arms in the next instant holding me at arm’s reach, and this time he dispelled my magic. I was slightly relieved in case I set the room on fire. “Is that what you think I was doing?”

“Was it not? Since the moment Eamon suggested you become king, I knew I would never be able to marry you, but I expected more of a fight from you when it came time.”

“I was trying to do the right thi…wait, you wanted to marry me? Then? Why did you ever encourage me to be king?”

“Because I think you’ll make a wonderful king. And yes, I thought about our future, before I learned what that would mean. How could I not? I’m in love with you.”

He stumbled at that. “I love you. I want to marry you. I never wanted to be king, not until you helped me realize the good I could do. You’re the one who made me this way. You made me see that I had to think about the welfare of the people of Ferelden, that we couldn’t be selfish, as Wynne once feared. I thought I was doing what was right, for both of us.”

He wanted to marry me? I held onto that for a long moment because the rest of his words would invade the space quickly enough. And they did. He was right; I put him on the throne. If there was blame to be had, or fault, although such words seemed negative all considering, it was mine. I did this, to us.

I suppose, the anger I felt earlier, I had deflected because I didn’t want to face the truth – I was the leader. Without discussion, I had been put in charge. I made the final tough decisions, regardless of my experience or insight, and that included watching over Alistair and guiding him to this task.

“Maker, help me! Have you nothing to say?”

I stepped out of his reach, my tears dried, my resolve returned. “You asked for my forgiveness, but what have I to forgive? Nothing has changed. We cannot marry. You will be king, and I am not worthy of you.”

A spark of anger crossed his features. “You? Not worthy? That is among one of the most absurd things I have ever heard spoken, and we’ve been traveling with Oghren for months now.”

My smile was small in response. “Then what would you have me do?”

“For now, let us ignore what may be. Let us continue on as we have, together, and worry about the rest later. The forgiveness I seek is because I was an ass for thinking that I could live any sort of life without you. I cannot imagine such an existence, I don’t want to.” He took my hands in his, his eyes pleading.

My heart ached for him, but it also ached from the heart break his words had prompted. I knew I couldn’t forgive him right now, not entirely. If his first thoughts as the future king were to sever his ties with me, how could I trust him? How could I trust in his love for me? And after all we had been through. To find myself questioning him…it wasn’t a position I cared to be in.

I felt those first prickles of tears behind my eyes, and I swallowed hard to squelch them.

Then I thought of what still lie ahead for us. We had to move forward without burden, and so I did what was necessary, for both of us. I rested a hand upon his cheek, and leaned in close. “There is nothing to forgive.” And with that, I kissed him sweetly.

He wrapped me in a tight embrace, squeezing the air out of me, and sighed heavily with his relief. I stared blindly into the fire, feeling a chill edge its way onto my heart.

That night we slept together, snuggled tightly against one another. I did not sleep well. Despite the proximity of our bodies, my heart had separated itself, and I feared that it would not return.

V