#I have an Alistair romance otherwise but they run off to be wardens together (until ali gets eaten by a big spider rip)

[kirkwallfightclub]

I had kind of half a characterisation for an Aeducen but it didn’t click until I downloaded the complete bi overhaul mod and made him have a weird gay thing with Gorim and now oh yeah it’s all coming together

[blarrghe]

You have a Cousland who romances Zev and Alistair?! I was considering the same for my Cousland, please, tell us more about her and the dynamics! Did Alistair become king? Is Violet the queen or an advisor? What are they all doing after the Blight? What was her relationship with her family, also with Anora and Cailan? Sorry if that's too many questions but I love Couslands and I think it's a shame that the game doesn't acknowledge just how many people they'd know and how important the family is

Yeah!

I love their dynamic a lot, and I do have one very short and pretty old fic about it (the smut sucks but I still think it's cute).

Alistair does become king and Violet does become queen with him, they work together for a while, eventually Violet gets a lead on a cure for the taint and goes off to search that out, she's not big on being cooped up in a castle. (Neither of them are lol, prior to that they sort of take turns running out to Vigil's Keep to do Warden Stuff aka escape being King/Queen for a bit)

Dynamic is a fully loving polyship between Zevran/Alistair/Violet so Zevran stays at the castle a fair bit, but canonically he has to go off to deal with the Crows so while he does that he just sends many erotic letters. I've been meaning to write an epilogue thing about him coming back when Violet goes off to find the cure but I just haven't gotten around to it. There's a bit of marital bickering about where Zevran should be during this time, Alistair and Zevran want him to go with Violet, Violet wants him to stay with Alistair (because he'll get lonely and go crazy doing King Stuff (tm) by himself.) He winds up staying with Alistair until the letters stop coming from Violet and then heroically running off to the rescue (again, I haven't really worked this out but I'm sure she's fine.)

She was bffs with her brother before the blight and that reunion was very touching since they thought one another dead. She respects but is otherwise not a big fan of Anora, though I think in her youth she maybe had a bit of a crush on her if ever she was dragged to court or whatever. I havent thought too much more about it but she was a bratty teen who didnt wanna be pretty or get married of have kids so, I dont think she's as good at the politicking as all that..

But! I love her, she's very clever, a good battle strategist and as a fighter she's a rogue with a thing for traps and poisons, gets on swimmingly with Zev. All three of them support one another on their quests for vengeance and she murders Howe without an ounce of regret but at the end of the day she's a bleeding heart with an awful sense of humour. Also she has purple hair, makes the dye herself!

[whereismywarden]

OC Masterlist

@kiraia​ pointed out (rightfully so) that I made quite a few vague posts about my OCs, but that I’ve never properly introduced them. It’s true, mostly because I tend to wait until they are well developed to properly do anything with them, which doesn’t happen all that often. So consider this a formal introduction to my current OCs :)

(Under a cut because there are quite a bunch of them. I hope it works on mobile, because otherwise yikes! I’m very sorry.)

Sad Mages Worldstate

It’s probably the one I talk about the most. It’s the most developed worldstate, with the most developed OCs and I’ve written a lot of fics about them.

The Warden: Ana Surana [Tag | Complete bio | Fanfictions]

pairings: Ana x Daylen Amell (friends with benefits), Ana x Alistair (DAO romance), Ana x Carver (current pairing, now married) + I occasionally throw Isabela into the mix because reasons.

Born in the Gallows and taken to an orphanage in Highever until her magic manifested.

Grew up close to Anders, Jowan, Amell and (to a lesser extent) Finn.

Had a baby that she was forced to give to the Chantry.

Main DAO choices include: romancing Alistair, getting her heart broken after making him king, stupidly refusing to do Morrigan’s ritual and watching him sacrifice his life for her.

Later she starts dating Carver (whom she actually met at Ostagar where they had a brief fling before the Battle).

Takes part in the Mage Underground and helps Anders build his bomb.

Starts hearing the Calling shortly before DAI.

Is Hawke’s contact during HLtA.

The Champion: Alwyn Hawke [Tag | Complete bio | Fanfictions]

pairings: Alwyn x Anders (DA2 romance, on and off), Alwyn x Cullen (one time), Alwyn x Rylen (post DAI, considering making them endgame, not sure yet).

Purple Hawke.

Carver becomes a warden.

Supports the mages.

Develops a close friendship with Ana.

Breaks up with Anders after the Chantry explosion, wishing he’d trusted him enough to share his plan with him. They do get back together later on.

Is the first one to learn about Ana hearing the Calling.

Stays behind in the Fade during HLtA, but eventually finds a way out.

He was found by Inquisition scouts in the Western Approach, suffering from amnesia.

Later falls in love with Rylen.

(Note that I still need to update that last part into his bio.)

The Inquisitor: Violette Surana [Tag | Complete bio | Fanfictions]

pairings: Violette x Orsino (once twice), Violette x Samson (current partner).

Ana’s mum.

Orlesian who grew up in Ferelden during the occupation.

Was taken to the Gallows at age 13.

Was a close friend of Malcolm Hawke.

Had her baby (Ana) taken by the Chantry. Later escaped.

Hates the Chantry.

Attends the Conclave in the hopes that Ana might be there.

Starts sleeping with Samson after his capture because he basically said fuck the Chantry to her face and it turned her on.

Hardened Leliana becomes Divine.

Other OC: Neriah Amell-Hawke

Is Ana’s daughter. She got her out of the orphanage after the Blight (thanks, Leliana).

Her father is Daylen Amell. Carver adopted her when he married her mama.

Is 18 as of Trespasser.

Second Chances Worldstate

This one started off as an AU for a fic starring Ana and Alistair which is why these two worldstates are so similar. The point of divergence is that Jowan went to Amell for help instead of Ana for some reason.

The Warden: Daylen Amell [Tag | Fanfictions]

pairings: Day x Ana (friends with benefits), Day x Morrigan (DAO romance and while I did consider for a while not having him follow her through the eluvian, I changed my mind. There’s too much growth potential.)

His father was Maurevar Carver, because I say so.

Main DAO choices include: Sparing Loghain, Alistair becoming a drunk, not doing Morrigan’s ritual because he can just throw Loghain at the Archdemon (which he did).

Helps Ana get their daughter out of the Kirkwall orphanage. Bails on them right afterwards.

Does follow Morrigan through the eluvian and actually ends up being a decent dad to Kieran.

Does not become Ferelden’s Warden-Commander.

The Champion: Alwyn Hawke (yes, again)

Like I said, this was originally an AU, so it made sense to keep the same Hawke. There are quite a few differences, however.

pairings: none.

Does not bring Anders to the Deep Roads. Carver dies.

Suffers from severe depression afterwards.

Goes from purple to full blue after Leandra’s death.

Stays behind in the Fade. Probably won’t make it out in this worldstate.

The Inquisitor: Asaara Adaar [Tag | Fanfictions]

pairings: Asaara x Cullen (starts before DAI, now married).

Meets Cullen shortly before the Chantry explosion. They fall in love.

Not going into too much details because it will be part of Second Chances’ main story.

Other OCs: Ana Surana and Neriah [Main fic | Other fics]

Again, can’t go into too much detail because spoilers.

pairings: Ana x Carver (before the Deep Roads expedition anyway), Ana x Alistair.

Day brings Ana to Kirkwall shortly after the Blight to meet their daughter. She ends up staying after they get Neriah out of the orphanage.

Single mom. Works as a waitress.

They find drunk Alistair in their garbage. Ana wants to help him get better.

Other OC: Issala Adaar [Tag]

pairings: Issala x Varric (post-DAI).

Is Asaara’s overexcited little sister.

Likes to tinker with explosives.

Built a handheld cannon. It’s clunky, not very accurate and is prone to misfire. In other words, it still needs a lot of work.

Varric thinks she’s adorable so he made her his personal bodyguard.

Angry Dalish Worldstate

The Warden: Shaelyn Mahariel [Tag | Fanfictions]

pairings: Lyn x Tamlen (Origin), Lyn x Bethany, (considering Lyn x Alistair between DA2 and DAI but even that might be too cruel.)

Doesn’t want to be a warden.

DAO choices include: Alistair remaining with the wardens because he doesn’t want to be king.

No in-game romance, she was too heartbroken after losing Tamlen.

Eventually starts dating Bethany.

Travels to the Free Marches after the death of her clan to kill the man responsible.

Almost dies in the resulting fight against Hawke (thank the Creators Anders was there).

Goes home and confesses to Bethany that she almost killed her brother and that she would have done it had he not been so badass. They break up.

The two of them reconcile post-DAI, after Hawke and Merrill’s wedding.

The Champion: Kris Hawke [Tag]

pairings: Kris x Merrill (now married).

Blue Hawke.

Sadly couldn’t save Merrill’s clan.

Didn’t want to hurt Lyn that badly during their fight, he was just defending himself. Deeply regrets it afterwards.

The Inquisitor: no one specific yet, but likely a Lavellan romancing Solas.

Alistair stays behind in the Fade.

Elves in Luuuuv Worldstate

The Warden: Kallian Tabris [Tag | Fanfictions]

pairings: Tabs x Alistair (DAO romance)

Probably the most canon-compliant OC.

Main DAO choices include: making Alistair king with Anora as queen and becoming his mistress.

Madly in love.

Will have a happy ending.

No Hawke or Inquisitor yet.

Homecoming Worldstate

The Warden: Elaine Cousland [Tag]

pairings: Elle x Nathaniel (pre-DAO, now ex-husband), Elle x Leliana (DAO romance), Elle x Sebastian (current).

Was BFF with Anora during their childhood.

Actually met Sebastian before he was sent to the Chantry. The two of them had similar lifestyles back then, so when Elle visited Starkhaven with her father, the two of them developed a rivalry of sorts in their romantic pursuits (think Merteuil and Valmont, but a lot more light-hearted). They do spend one night together after learning that he is going to be sent to the Chantry.

Eventually fell in love and married Nate. They kept their relationship a secret, however. They divorced after the Blight.

Main DAO choices include: romancing Leliana, making Alistair king with Anora as queen, sparing Loghain and performing the ritual.

Her relationship with Leliana didn’t survive the distance.

Leaves the Wardens after the Chantry explosion and basically goes on the run from everyone because she feels responsible for what happened.

Helps Sebastian reclaim his throne. They fall in love. (I’m currently writing a fic about this, actually)

Still unsure about her DAI fate. Either she replaces Hawke in HLtA and stays behind in the Fade, or she becomes Inquisitor.

The Champion: Violetta Hawke [Tag | Fanfictions]

pairings: Letta x Isabela (DA2 romance).

Yes, she was totally named after Violette.

Is Kris’ sister.

Carver becomes a Templar.

Spared Anders.

Sails into the sunset with Isabela.

DAI fate will depend on what I decide to do with Elle.

The Inquisitor: no one yet.

Loghain survives HLtA.

I am considering having Neriah (yes, again) be the Herald with someone else as Inquisitor since she’s only a kid. In this worldstate, she grew up in Kirkwall’s orphanage before being taken to the Gallows. She escapes the massacre and Carver eventually takes her under his wing.

I'm planning to have two additional worldstates (I want one per warden origin). One called "Happy Dwarves" with a male Brosca romancing Zevran and one called "Dead Heroes" with a male Aeducan romancing Leliana (and probably Alwyn again, idk). I also have a couple of Cadashes that I want to put somewhere, a woman romancing Josie and a man romancing Divine Cassandra. Idk yet if they'll be Inquisitors or if I'll just add them to one of the existing worldstates. Odds are one will be Inquisitor while the other just tags along.

I probably missed a few things here and there, but that’s basically the gist of it. Thanks to anyone who actually stuck to the end, lmao.

[angstymarshmallow]

Yooo you like Dragon Age? Who are your fav characters? (In general and to date)

My dearest anon - yesss! Like? Love? Adore? I think adore covers it lol.

Ahh, my favourite characters: Anon you have open the floodgates of opinions. Be prepared for my very long ramble. 

My problematic bean Anders (but I mostly enjoy pre-dragon 2 Anders - but enjoy the angsty kind of relationship he has with Hawke in DA 2). Other characters from Dragon Origin: Sten (he doesn’t try to be funny; he’s very up front about everything but I find his responses to the warden are often funny and kind of cute. He’s also pretty rational). Alistair (as a favourite and as an LI); he’s hilarious - genuinely a sweetheart that always tries to lighten the mood. He’s fiercely loyal and protective of people he cares about. (Also his banter with Morrigan is some of the best banter in the game and speaking of which) Morrigan (as a favourite and as an LI) she speaks her mind and doesn’t allow the foolish thoughts of others to sway her beliefs. She’s closed off until you get to know her. She’s worth getting to know.Zevran (as a favourite and as an LI). I have a soft spot for elves. Whether dalish or otherwise. He’s smooth, really smooth and upfront about wanting to please the warden romantically but look past his flirty side and there’s so much more to love about him.

It was so hard to choose because Leliana, Wynne and Anora are also pretty up there for me but I’m trying to keep this short.

Dragon Age 2:(This game’s problematic but moving on -)Anders. I mentioned him earlier but I wanted to still place him here. He’s a good friend if you more or less agree with most of his opinions about mages. He’s an angsty lover that ended up twisting my heart strings - especially towards the end of the game.Fenris (as an LI) Wow I love this man? No I have this really soft spot for most elves, and Fenris is no exception. His upbringing and background makes him really closed off in the beginning - and usually on my templar and rogue run they’ve gotten along quite well. His story is really heart wrenching. But as a mage though - oh boy. That man. Still he’s still my favourite LI in DA:2. I mean his voice? It’s like velvet?? And his lyrium markings…Isabela (as a favourite and an LI), she’s a pirate but has a heart of gold. Those two things put together makes it easy to fall in love with her - plus she’s so beautiful?? And her flirty options are A PLUS quality. She grows a lot in the span of this game, and her character development genuinely makes her more than worth it.Varric(as a favourite because he’ll never become an LI). I love Varric. Honestly, he’s charming - hilarious, and just generally fun to have in your party. He’s got some of the best dialogue (next to sarcastic hawke), and I know why he’s not an LI - I just will secretly keep longing for him in private.Dragon Age InquistionCullen Rutherford (as a favourite and an LI) this is dangerous because I could talk about this man for months and never get tired of it. He’s gorgeous ?? I’ve always wanted to romance him, even since DA:O - but what really appeals to me is his humility and his character development in the span of all three games. Playing as mage inquisitor earns you some extra dialogue with him - but I’m really proud I guess of how far he’s come. And his romance scenes touches me on such a deeper level? (i wanted to write fanfiction about him - that’s how obsessed I was).Sera (as a favourite) I feel like it’s so problematic to say I adore Sera because of how other people feel about her. Sera’s not afraid to have a good time, she doesn’t really believe in taking things seriously - and when she does it just means how important those said things are to begin with. I admire her spirit, even if the way she speaks is kind of jumbled she’s a freakin red jenny!Solas: (as a favourite and as an LI), wow did I say Sera was problematic because Solas. Solas takes the cake of problematic. If ever anyone’s looking for someone to tear their heart out and mount it - this is where that ends. But despite it all, he’s so fascinating. Down to the way he speaks, his mannerisms and ultimately who he is and the role he plays in this story.Cassandra (as a favourite and as an LI) wow Cassandra is just so great? She’s the right amount of tough - she doesn’t let her guard down easily, and she’s really driven by belief. She’s incredibly adorable to romance because she gets so flustered by her own feelings. Outside of that she’s just a good person to have on your side.Varric  again because everything I’ve said about him still applies here. And we finally get to know the story of Bianca - honestly he deserves better.

The Iron bull, Crem, Dorian and Dagna are some other favourites of mine too.

Thanks for asking, and I’m sorry about the mini-essay. I just have a lot of feelings for these fictional characters. 

[happywitch416]

Honestly I want you to review everyone in DA. But for now, have some more characters: Sophia Dryden, Nathaniel Howe, Isabela, and Lace Harding.

Everytime I tried to post this from mobile it went fucky. I got on the computer for you. You better feel loved. lol

Sophia Dryden

How I feel about this character

Sophia, the would be queen and warden commander. I like her story, she is a complex history full of ambitious chances taken. But she also manages to always lose, which ties back into her ambition, she never knows when to stop. Everything is full kilt, no halves. When she is approached for the rebellion, which got the wardens kicked out of Ferelden, I do not think she agreed from a place of wanting to save the people, she was ready to exact her revenge on the people who took her kingdom. We would have had a very different story if she had been successful. I have to admire the balls she had to get the entire order kicked out of the country for like 200 years. Thats impressive fuckery.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I don’t have any ships here. She’s technically a ghoul in DAO? And animated by a demon. That just sounds like a bad plan romantically. And she does not strike me as a romance type. Marriage of power? Sure. For love? No.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I want her to meet Justice/Anders. Possessed Grey Wardens should stick together. And I want to know what they agree on because I definitely think they could share sentiments. Justice will stop at nothing to achieve his goals and she could write the book on it.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t think she’s evil, I think she had a potential for greatness that was encouraged and supported and when faced with the failure of her ambitions she kept pushing. I find it rather admirable even if I don’t condone murder and battle. Or demon possession but I think that could be negotiated. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

That you could recruit her. A warden commander, possessed or otherwise, would be a good ally for the Blight. She has experience and knowledge which the warden and Alistair lack. And if an undead warden makes the killing blow against an archdemon what do we get? 

Nathaniel Howe

How I feel about this character

First off, poor kid’s dad was an absolute asshole. After spending his childhood wanting to make him proud, including spending time as a squire to a jerk, learning that his father was a grade A douche must have been hard. And we deal with this grief by breaking into the family castle to steal shit before getting wrestled into a cell by the wardens. I dig it. 

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Velanna is a ship I have seen a bit of and I find it nice. Their banter is a good setup for it. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Sigrun, their dialogue cracks me up.

My unpopular opinion about this character

His story is more tragic than the Cousland warden’s. The Couslands had a happy life until they died and Nathaniel went from one misery to the next. They both lost everything and this isn’t a comparison of who had it worse, just an acknowledgment that they both got it bad and setting Nathaniel up as a villain is in poor taste and weak spines.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I am pretty happy with his canon. He gets the chance to make the name Howe mean something again, to remind himself and the world that being noble can be more than a bloodline. 

Isabela

How I feel about this character

Look. Isabela is my canon romance for Hawke. If I must abide by canon, it is always, always Isabela. She’s funny. She grows as a person through the events of da2. She could, and does if you fuck up, take off at a run with the qunari but she could also come back. She could save her skin, but tries to save yours even though it means facing down her worst nightmares, life under the Qun which would be awful. And shes a pirate! 

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Merrill and Hawke, either together or separately. I understand the Fenris thing that can happen but eh. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Varric, their banter makes me happy. And they get each other without having to do the deep talks. 

My unpopular opinion about this character

I really, really hate how Anders and Aveline treat her. To the point I won’t have them in the same party as her because it makes me so mad. Lets slutshame someone who was sold into a marriage. And if I have to explain the connotations of that kind of marriage you are probably too young to be here. The writers could have done better. Instead, I will ignore canon and substitute my own. I also have a problem with fandom going lol booze and sex Isabela, like please, lets have some character depth here. Its just the cheese all over again. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Let me go on the boat with her. I need a tropical island date. Sail away from Kirkwall and ignore the explosions lol

Lace Harding

How I feel about this character

Lace is the best. Funny? Dwarf archer?  Adventure! I am not even a little in love with her. Its big in love with her. She means business at work but plays hard too.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Me lol i do totally see her with most inquisitors, especially ones that are more no i am not some religious icon. Definitely Krem, they could have danger adventures followed by cuddling and it would be cute as shit. The Iron Bull would be their strongest shipper because a happy Krem makes leaving the Qun not hurt as bad, that he has a family here. And Lace would be down for mayhem. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Sera, i could see them very much running pranks together. I could also see her trading romance novels with Cassandra. The Iron Bull as per above. Mayhem. 

I could eventually see her and Leliana warming to each other, Lace has a serious case of hero worship and rightful terror of Leliana. But I could see them bonding over wine and Leliana teaching her the ins and outs of working in an urban setting.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Hm. I’m not sure I have an unpopular opinion of her? Maybe that even with an inquisitor that is very into being the Herald, the shine would wear off for her taking them from otherworldly to human. Its hard to think of someone as being an icon when you’ve heard them whine about a sunburn. Or seen them without coffee. A lot of people seem to dig that whole star struck for eternity thing.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

An actual in game romance, instead of the barest nods you get in Trespasser. Cowards. Let us kiss the dwarves. Also, kit her out with some beyond the basic equipment. She does a lot for the Inquisition, give her a dragonbone bow or something please. I would also like her taking pot shots at Corphytits in the final battle. She would be there, first on a horse with your companions and advisors, because she’s not going to go through another Haven.

[scurvgirl]

Queen of the Stone, Part 6

Read on AO3,  Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

She has been a Grey Warden for eleven years, and the taint is beginning to consume her. She needs to find a cure soon. So Elodie Amell sets out in search and finds herself in the city thought long-lost, Kal-Sharok. There she discovers something much bigger than just a cure for the taint running through her body.

A companion story to my other story, In Your Gaze I Wish to Stay, but this can be read separately!

First Light

Elodie makes her way back to Denerim and to Alistair. A note - Katra is my Hawke, she romanced Fenris, she's been staying at Skyhold helping the Inquisitor (Miriel Lavellan).

The final installment!

A month later and she made it to Skyhold, dirty and exhausted but still riding her high of relief. She greeted Fiona with a broad smile, breaking down in tears on how she had been released from the taint and how she could finally move forward with her life. The woman held her close, her own eyes turning glassy and wet. Elodie didn’t know if they had been freed of the taint in the same way, but she was the only person (so far) who truly understood what this meant.

Freedom. The truest taste of freedom she had ever had.

Fiona smiled kindly back and wished her well, eyes gleaming brightly.

Unfortunately Inquisitor Lavellan was not at Skyhold, she had ironically descended down to the Deep Roads to answer Orzammar’s call for help about devastating earthquakes. But it was no matter, Elodie stayed with an amazingly pregnant Katra Hawke and they rested against each other, both basking in the futures that awaited them. Elodie told Katra she should name the baby after her, which made Fenris scowl with a firm “no.”

She spent the next week with Dagna, reporting most everything. She explained her interactions with the Titan and left out Kal-Sharok and the precise location. Dagna seemed completely preoccupied with the rest of the tale to really notice those peculiars. Elodie told her about the part with the elven woman reaching her hand out with blood magic, the lyrium turning red and the Titan being forced to her will. Elodie told Dagna what the Titan said and the spirits that had buoyed up the Veil, veritably isolating the Titan from the dwarves.

Dagna’s eyes lit up as she took it all down, scribbling madly. They wound up in a long magical theories discussion on all the potential implications of this. The Blight, lyrium, blood magic, the Titans, Stone, the Fade.

The conversation lasted for days, until Elodie was sure that Dagna had all the necessary pieces to begin her own speculation and research. And as tempting as it was to show Dagna the cutting of the Titan, she knew better. Some things…some things had to remain secret until it was their time to be revealed. So she kept the box close and sealed, shielded in her own magic.

She wound up staying two weeks, delivering her information and tales to those it would best serve. She kept the robes and other trinkets away from prying eyes, however, doing her best to keep her word to keep Kal-Sharok’s secrets. Not that it was easy, Skyhold was full of people, nosy people at that.

The new Spymaster, in particular, was the nosiest sort. But a sort she was undoubtedly familiar with.

“Zevran Arainai! Exactly how did you manage to take over as Spymaster?” She asked, hugging her old friend close. He chuckled and patted her back.

“Ah, if I gave away my secrets I would not be a very good spymaster, no?”

“Pish! What are secrets between old friends?”

“Old? Oh you wound me!” He teased, guiding her to his office, er…roost? It was in an alcove above the library of which Dorian haunted. He smiled at Elodie in passing, quickly getting distracted by his book on antique spell weaving patterns.

“Now what is all this business of you no longer being a Grey Warden?” He asked, leaning back in a chair. He looked good, rested, his hair was longer and there were lines at the edges of his eyes, but the whole “aged” part of his look only seemed to enhance his handsomeness.

Elodie grinned, “I am no longer a Grey Warden, it is true. And soon, neither will Alistair.”

Zevran chuckled again, not seeming the least bit surprised.

“You were never one to simply let things lie.”

“Certainly not, you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

He laughed more freely and they fell back into a long conversation, catching each other up on what’s happened in their lives. He regaled her with tales of hunting the Crows and ending up in the service of the Inquisition. She told him of the Deep Roads, of her investigations, and her plans, of which he whole heartedly supported.

She spent her remaining days in Skyhold with Zev and Katra, bouncing between the two with only a few appearances to Josephine. She was going to enjoy her time with friends rarely seen, particularly Zevran who had dropped off the map about a year ago.

It was odd in a sense, to see Zevran like this, to be like this herself. Older, wiser, in these positions of great power. Shit, Leliana was now Divine and Alistair King of Ferelden. Maker knew where Morrigan was, but she had been in the Orlesian court. Elodie could scarcely believe it, they barely had it together while facing the Blight and now…now they were some of the most influential people in Thedas.

As she saddled the Nugalope in preparation to leave for Denerim, Zevran promised to send gifts of her most likely impending pregnancy. She smacked his arm lightly, badgering him not to jinx it. They wished each other luck in their endeavors and then she was off, heading back to Denerim on the plump Nugalope, Daffodil, with a securely fastened box of a cutting of a Titan.

It was another month before she reached Denerim and all the tension left her body as she guided Daffodil into the city and to the palace. She had sent a raven at Skyhold to the palace, informing Alistair of her imminent return but she…she was actually here now. Standing before the palace gates, taint free and ready to great the future.

The gates were opened quickly, the guards immediately welcoming her home from her journeys. They eyed Daffodil warily but the horse master seemed unsurprised by the newest addition to his stables. Her things were taken off Daffodil, a servant by the name of Riari hurrying them into the palace while Elodie strode to the back of the palace, to the gardens where the king of Ferelden was sparring with his son.

Their son.

Duncan, now seven and a half, lunged and parried with his father, blonde hair bright in the sun. There was laughter and an ease in the boy learning how to fight. And she couldn’t feel them. There was no tether she felt to Alistair other than the love in her body, there was no odd hum she felt with Duncan – the darkness was gone, leaving only the love.

Elodie closed her eyes for the briefest moment, reveling in it, before stepping into the light.

“You’ve improved a great deal, little one,” she said. Both Alistair and Duncan dropped their practice swords and turned to Elodie, their faces in the same awe struck expression.

“Mum!” Duncan yelled, running towards her. Elodie dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the boy, holding him tightly to her. Her eyes squinched closed, heart burning with relief and happiness to have her son back in her arms.

Alistair rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around them both, all of them creating a heap of smelly, sweaty bodies, happy tears streaming down dirt streaked faces.

“You’re home – I did not…I saw the letter but it was almost too much to hope –

“I will always come back,” she whispered. Alistair shivered and leaned heavily on her, a welcome weight that reminded her how far she had come.

But suddenly he pulled back, eyes wide in an incredulous expression.

“I don’t…but you’re…Elodie??!” His voice pitched.

She grinned, “I was successful, yes.” She didn’t want to go into detail with Duncan present but Alistair clearly understood, his face changing from awe to happiness to awe again. His eyes shut and she knew he was thanking the Maker for it, for whatever role the He had in this. Elodie closed her own and clutched Duncan to her.

Thank you.

**

As much as she wanted to continue to hold Duncan, Elodie was filthy. She had a bath drawn and sank into it with a long moan. The water was hot and prickling with bath salts she was certain that one of the castle staff had imported from Rivain. Bless them, she had missed such luxury. She lingered for a moment, simply enjoying it before setting to work. She scrubbed and scrubbed, removing all traces of the Deep Roads and the surface roads from her skin. She wanted to smell like a flower and a lady by the end of this.

The door creaked open as she dumped a small bucket of water over her head.

“It’s just me! I wanted to talk when I knew we wouldn’t be overheard,” Alistair announced and she nodded, rubbing the water and soap from her eyes. She pushed her hair back to smile at him while he took a seat by the tub. He had gained a bit more weight, most likely from stress eating, but he wore the weight well and he was as handsome as ever. Elodie leaned out of the tub and pressed a kiss to his lips, happy and savoring his touch.

“Right, talk,” she murmured, nipping at his lips. He chuckled and sighed in that adorable way of his before leaning back.

“Oh I know and trust me, tonight neither of us will be sleeping but we both need to get caught up on occurrences.” His face turned serious and she settled back into the tub.

“It is admittedly a long story, one that I will gladly expand upon when we have the proper time, but know that there is a cure for the taint. I don’t know if it is the same as the Blight, the thing that cured me seemed…like it was separate. But I have learned so much. Did you know that dragons are immune to the taint? Or at the very least, extremely resistant to it some way – they bypass it, the secret is their blood.”

Alistair’s eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair, “Maker, that means –

“They could really be old Gods. That’s what I thought, but when I was down there, I…had visions…and I think the Archdemons may actually be neither. I think they are shapeshifters, like Flemeth.”

The weight of that realization fell upon him, making him slouch in his seat.

“We should inform the wardens at Weisshaupt,” he said and she didn’t know if she agreed with that. Yes, they should know of the real threat posed but…it would put Kal-Sharok at risk if the wardens discovered the Titan’s powers in this regard.

“We can decide that later, there is more. I was not cured by dragon blood, though I do think we can replicate the effects with dragon blood with proper study. I was cured by a Titan, that is how you will be cured too.”

“What is a Titan?”

As much as she wanted to wait until she wasn’t in water and turning into a pruny mess to tell him about it all, she launched into the story, telling him about Karega and her husband and the lyrium visions and the Titan and how the taint got started from blood magic being used on a Titan. She explained how the Titan essentially imbued her with pure lyrium energy to flush out the tainted lyrium energy. It rid her of the taint incurred by the blood magic because that Titan had never been touched by blood magic.

She was…purified. It was an odd thing, no doubt, but for some reason it worked. And the connection to lyrium was persistent, she could feel it humming to her whenever she got close to it. Like the taint but not.

Stone sense.

It made as much sense as the rest of her life and yet here she was, naked in a tub explaining her latest adventure to the love of her life.

“It gave me a piece of itself to plant in the deep roads at Kal-Hirol, but before I do that, it will purify you and Duncan. Freeing you from any taint circling in your veins. Alistair,” she reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling so broadly her cheeks hurt, “you will be free.”

Her heart felt full to burst as a soft smile spread across Alistair’s face. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you, so much, I…Maker, I am a lucky man.”

His old words made her chuckle and his lips cut that chuckle off with a sweet kiss. They would soon be free together, free to have a family and just…be. He was still a king, and there were responsibilities with that, but over the years they had figured it out. The Landsmeet had accepted their king and subsequent queen and mistress –

“Alistair, where is Anora?”

When he paused she knew. Her eyes shut and she sagged into Alistair. She loved Anora, not in any romantic sense, but she was Duncan’s mother, they all had a hand in raising the boy. They were a family, an odder one but…it worked.

“Her illness was too much for her, the healers said there was nothing they could do.”

Cost. There was always a cost to decisions, no matter how good and sound they were, cost was inevitable. Elodie could have been here, could have saved Anora…but then that would have cost Elodie her own life, Alistair’s…maybe even Duncan’s. The taint was not strong in him, barely there but it was present enough that it gave her pause and…. There was always a cost, and this time, Anora paid it.

“Maker guide her soul,” she whispered. She’d…organize another vigil, as mistress and court mage she felt like she had some sort of duty for this. Anora was more than a friend, they shared a son.

“This isn’t your fault, the healers said –

“The healers are not me,” she hissed.

“They still know things, Ellie.”

Tears eked out of her eyes and she buried her face further into his chest, “I should have –

“You were doing what you knew what was best.”

Cost. There was always a cost.

Elodie leaned back into the tub, elated and defeated and conflicted, mourning for Anora but so excited for the future her and Alistair could have.

Alistair informed her the rest of the events she had missed, how the Bannorn was already pushing for him to remarry even though he couldn’t bring himself to – not so soon after Anora’s death and with Elodie away.

She thanked him dearly for waiting, she would have to explain to the Bannorn that he did not need a wife to rule – that she had done her service as queen twice over, and had produced an heir, a healthy, flourishing heir. Alistair was king, but she knew that several of the Banns had daughters they wanted married off to the best suitors.

Alistair was officially a bachelor again and she knew just how desirable he was.

“If anyone is marrying you, it’s me,” she told him firmly. He raised a brow at her, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Now you want to marry me!”

“Oh hush you, I’m in mourning. Anora is – was – the mother of our son.” She cast a simple warming spell over the water and resumed cleaning herself, determined to still be clean and feminine after all the drudgery of the roads.

But Alistair just kissed her head and cheek, “She is missed. But I am so happy to have you home. And so is Duncan! He was terrified that he had lost both of his mothers.”

Elodie fell silent, staring into Alistair’s eyes. She didn’t need to tell him that if she hadn’t done what she did, Duncan very well would have lost her, she didn’t need to tell him that it was a calculated risk to go and find a cure. He knew.

He stroked her cheek then stood up, “I will leave you to the bath. I told Duncan I would be five minutes and I am sure I am over that time.” He bent down for another kiss, lingering for a moment.

After Alistair left she hurried through the rest of her bath, eager to be with Alistair and Duncan again. She emerged twenty minutes later, all wrinkly and smelling like flowers and spices, feeling like an Elodie Amell that is not dirty or tainted or in peril of any sort.  

She stood there for a long moment, just…savoring the freedom. Naked and wrinkly, water dripping down her back, the air cold against her body and she just – breathed.

She went from an unforgiving household with her birth family, thrown out on the street when her magic surfaced. She stumbled into the Chantry, cold, hungry, and filthy. The Circle was a warm, clean, gilded cage where she flourished…to a point. When First Enchanter Irving said that she should reign in her magic so the Templars wouldn’t get suspicious, she did. She held back. And then her Harrowing came and she didn’t think she’d have to hold back anymore. And then there was Jowan and getting recruited into the Grey Wardens and it seemed she got to taste freedom for five minutes before it was ripped away each time.

But now…it was going to be more than five minutes.

The robes she donned were a light blue with embossed white flowers. She dried her hair first with a towel then with a spell. She put her hair into a simple braid before making her way out of the room and down the hall to where Alistair and Duncan are eating dinner. So wondrously domestic and calm.

Duncan saw her out of the corner of his eye making him turn his head to her quickly, his face lighting up in a brilliant smile. She joined them at the table, sitting next to her son and he leaned against her.

“I missed you, Mum,” he said. Elodie smiled and kissed the top of his head.

“I miss you too, sweetheart.”

Dinner was a lovely affair, though the servants kept rushing about as the castle finally realized that Elodie was indeed home. They overheard plans of a large banquet for the following day, making Elodie chuckle. While everyone else seemed to be embroiled in the chaos of manners and celebrations, Elodie and her little family enjoyed their meal, telling each other stories of their various adventures. Duncan was progressing well with his sword training, but he confessed he preferred to ride the horses. Alistair spoke of the lighter subjects the Banns had presented him over the last year and Elodie took care to describe the ancient city around the Titan and how amazing it was.

At some point, Duncan asked if she was going to leave again and she sighed, drawing him into her lap.

“Not if I can help it. I will need to journey to Amaranthine soon, but that will be a short trip.”

“We can go together, I’ve been meaning to go there anyways,” Alistair interjected. Elodie gave him a small smile in thanks. Traveling to Kal-Hirol should not take long, particularly since the efforts to rebuild the outpost had been going well.

After dinner, they continued to stay up, playing little games with Duncan, reestablishing a new normal. While he laughed and stayed close to Elodie, wrapping his little arms around her, he felt different. Older in a way that had little to do with his age. Sadder too. She put him to bed, opting to hold him until he fell asleep.

After he fell asleep and she extracted her body from his bed, she tiptoed back into her and Alistair’s room. It hadn’t changed, the drapes and the rug and the bedding was all the same. Well, no, there were more pillows on the bed than before, occupying her side of the bed. Alistair emerged from the attached washroom, in a long, frayed robe that was as old as his kinghood. He looked at the pillows on the bed, then back at her. He stepped to the side of the bed and swept them off, the soft things bouncing against the floor in his earnest to make room.

“This bed is too big for one person and you were gone so,” he stammered, blushing like he used to when they were out in the wilderness, fighting darkspawn and bickering with Morrigan.

“Clever.” She sidled up to him, wrapping her arms around him, reveling in his closeness. Tomorrow he would take hold of the Titan fragment and be taint free by the end of the day, tonight they could celebrate her return and tomorrow…freedom.

Alistair brought his arms around her and looked like he was about to say something, but his eyes dipped down to her lips and he leaned forward while she leaned up. Their lips met and the arousal that had begun in the tub returned in full force. Her hands delved under his robe, caressing soft, fuzz covered skin.

Their kiss morphed quickly from chaste to heated to obscene. She pushed his robe off his shoulders and he untied hers as they fell back onto the bed.

“I love you, I love you,” they whispered to each other in between hurried kisses and searching touches. Their bodies pressed into each other, giving into each other, reunited.

It wasn’t until the late hours of the night and potentially even the early hours of the morning that they finally fell asleep, sweaty and naked and spent, curled up in each other’s arms.

Morning arrived in a lazy haze with a tall, soft Alistair wrapped around her, holding onto her like Duncan held onto his teddy bear. Asleep like this he looked so much like the young man she met at Ostagar, and when he opened his eyes he transformed into the man she was still madly in love with.

He nuzzled under her jaw and breathed her in.

“I still can’t believe you’re here and you’re…just you.” His voice was raspy and deep with sleep, soft with intent. She trailed a hand over his arm and into his hair, all sticking out in soft angles.

“It’s amazing how it works out, isn’t it? How after everything we can have what we…you want this, right?” She whispered. Alistair shifted so that he was more on top of her.

“More than anything,” he affirmed and then he was kissing her again. The kiss turned into another one and then they fell back into each other, getting swept up in it all.

An hour later and they burst into Duncan’s room only to find the boy already awake and playing with Alistair’s old Grey Warden puppets. They let Duncan take one puppet to a breakfast of fruits, breads, cheeses aplenty, and boiled eggs.

They laughed and teased and ate in such ease and happiness that Elodie almost believed it was a dream or that she had actually died in the Deep Roads and this was a kind hallucination imparted to her from the Maker. But it was reality and that was such a gift, a gift that she wanted to expand. She bit her lip and looked over at Alistair, thinking about what babies born of them would be like. If they’d be little happy, cheese loving little ones or maybe they’d be mages and love botany and books.

Elodie leaned over to Duncan and kissed the top of his head, “You know why I left, yes? You know why it was important that I went?”

Duncan nodded slowly, “You and Papa are sick, you needed to find a cure. Did you?”

She smiled and nodded herself, “I did. I’m not sick anymore, but your papa is and I need to heal him. And I need to heal you too, so you don’t get sick.”

An uneasiness flitted into her at the idea of manipulating that energy through the boy, but what choice did she have? He wasn’t tainted, not exactly, but he was drawn to it. How old would he be when he found the Grey Wardens? When he said that he wanted to join their ranks, not fully understanding what the Grey Wardens were.

No, Elodie had to…she had to protect her son, and if it meant a day of discomfort, then so be it. She turned towards Alistair, his face drawn into a harder expression that he usually reserved for unpleasant negotiations with Orlais. While she hated what she had to do, there was no other way, they were out of time. The taint in him would kill him if it could and she was not going to let it cut his life short, not when his happiness was so close at hand.

Duncan fidgeted but nodded his head slowly, “Al-alright. Will it hurt?”

Elodie paused, trying to find the words, “I will try to make it not hurt, but it should be quick for you.”

“What about Papa?” His eyes were wide, bright and concerned. Her gaze softened and she drew him close to her body.

“Your papa has lived through many difficult things, he will live through this too, and at the end…he’ll be even better.”

Alistair leaned over and ruffled Duncan’s hair, “I’ll be fine! It’s not like I’m fighting the Archdemon again. Now that would be a different story. At least the dragon would have a tasty snack.”

Duncan snickered and wrapped his arms around Alistair, “No! The dragon can’t have you! You said we could be in bed all day and eat cheese.”

“Oh now, you can’t eat cheese all day – you’ll get sick,” Elodie said only to have her son and beloved blow raspberries at her. She rolled her eyes but smiled. This…was the right thing, it was. You have to sometimes re-break a bone to set it properly, this was like that. Break, so proper healing can happen.

After breakfast, they began. They moved into a small healing room annex to Elodie and Alistair’s bedroom. There was a cot for Alistair to sit on while he waited and Duncan sat on a small chair, trying not to fidget. Elodie unlocked the small chest containing the lyrium, now solidified into a fragment, and cradled it carefully in glove-clad hands. The light was almost blinding with power but she held it, carrying it to where Alistair sat. His clothes were plain, far simpler than anything he had to wear as king, but it was best to not soil what good clothes it did have.

The light filled the room as Elodie began to breathe, connecting herself into its power. She could direct it for a short amount of time, and in that time she could purify Alistair and Duncan – she could, the knowledge was bestowed in her by the Titan.

Power built and built in immense waves. Whispers entered her head, echoes of spirits long since passed, their words indistinguishable from the rush of power and blood in her ears. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped as the magic clicked inside of her. Now, she had to send it out now or else it wouldn’t work.

Elodie extended her arm out towards Alistair and let the Titan’s power course through her in an overwhelming rush. It flooded her body, shoved its way into cavities she didn’t know she had, but she had it, she was in control for this moment and she forced it out and into Alistair. His body seized as the magic infused lyrium poured into his body, forcing the taint out of his body. Blackish water dripped from his pours, his mouth, large stains forming on his clothes.

Duncan screamed but she couldn’t mind that, not when she sent a sliver of the power to him, forcing whatever darkness lurked inside of him out. He shuddered and vomited his breakfast, but it was gone from his body, gone from Alistair’s. She could feel the pulsing of their lives in that moment, so perfectly in synch with the Titan. She felt their hearts, their souls, purged clean. A cry escaped her as the power left her all at once, retreating back into the fragment.

Elodie slumped back against the table, all of her energy having left with the Titan’s power. Alistair coughed and sputtered drawing her attention to him. Duncan moaned and she looked to him…her son. She had to get to her son. Stumbling, Elodie somehow made it to him, holding him and cleaning his face. She guided him away from his mess and to the couch in the room.

“Mum…I don’t want to do that again,” he cried and she shook her head.

“You won’t have to, don’t worry, you’re fine now, you’re fine,” she was out of breath. If she could just…breathe, she could heal them. Yes, a healing spell, she needed to do something.

Elodie pulled herself up and took a deep breath, steadying herself, before beginning to move her hands and chant. The spell drifted from her and she directed it to sink into Alistair, coiling inside his body and then releasing to ease his pain. He shook and sputtered then sighed as the spell worked its way through him. Elodie fell back against the wall and cast a smaller spell for Duncan. He shivered in response but followed his father’s example and settled quickly, moving to lean against her.

The room then fell quiet save their exhausted panting. Her eyes fluttered closed. Beyond the sudden drain of energy pulsed a twinge of relief. That pulse grew until she could feel it in her heart. She gave a short, soft laugh, smiling in the face of it all. Alistair was free. Duncan was free.

They were all finally free.

It took an hour for any of them to have the energy to move from their spots. Elodie directed both Alistair and Duncan to the baths where she took care to help bathe them. Alistair rested heavily against her, occasionally groaning from the lingering pain. Every time he coughed, more brackish liquid came out and she was quick to wipe it away. After the baths, she took them to bed, where Alistair was quick to pass out.

Duncan however, remained awake, disoriented and sleepy, but awake. He reached out for Elodie and she couldn’t not crawl into bed with them, curling herself around her son and love. This was what she had traveled to Kal-Sharok for, family and freedom.

“I feel weird,” Duncan whispered and Elodie resisted chuckling. He would feel weird, a bit empty and a bit more separate from Alistair and maybe even Elodie.

“I felt weird too, it goes away. You know what this means, though,” she asked, holding him to her. He shook his head and she sighed, searching for the words.

“Your father and I were sick, we were…not able to do things but now we are all free, and you are too, to be the person you choose to be.”

“I’m the prince, I’m going to be king,” he whispered.

“If you choose it, then yes. Never underestimate the importance of your choice.���

She had made Alistair king, had gone against his wish and part of her regretted it. He had not wanted it, and while she stood by it being the best decision for the country…she wondered what he would be if he had not become king. And yet…if he had not become king, had not married Anora, their son would not exist.

There were only so many regrets she could hold in her heart and at the end of the day, this was not one that prevented her from sleeping.

But she wanted to learn from it all the same, she wanted to give Duncan that choice because she could. Ferelden should have a king who wants to be king, a king who knew how to serve his country. And perhaps…even a queen.

Elodie’s hand moved to her stomach and hoped.

**

The next few days blurred together in a haze of healing, holding, and late nights full of love and hope. There was a gathering of the nearby nobles and the whole of Denerim celebrated Elodie’s return. Grateful for their love, she had chefs and cooks prepare as much food as possible to feed the people of Denerim.

And while all of it was grand, she felt the burden of the Titan shard growing. She had to make her way to Kal-Hirol soon if she was to fulfill her end of the bargain. By the end of the week, they were packing up the horses and carriage to head out to Amaranthine. She climbed into the carriage with the box containing the shard, sitting next to Duncan. Alistair took his customary spot on his horse out in front though she found that just the slightest bit ironic.

Bad things happen when I lead!

It was a marvel and a relief to find how mistaken he had been about his abilities. Traveling to Amaranthine was always odd, an equal mixture of constantly running into merchants and bandits all the while sloughing through muddy roads.

It rained nigh constantly and by the end of the week, they were all soaked to the bone and cold. Even Elodie and Duncan did not manage to escape the downpour. It made her chuckle at first, reminding her of the days when this was an almost weekly occurrence. Maker, it wasn’t even that long ago that she had to sleep on the ground instead of a cot as she traveled across Thedas. And yet, it all felt so different. With Duncan and an Alistair who looked fairly different from the young man of ten years ago present, Elodie felt herself…almost shift in herself.

They made it to Amaranthine and were quickly whisked away into the small estate held by the Arl. The Arling had undergone several changes over the last few years, and while there was still a notable presence from the Grey Wardens, it had mostly been reduced to a cooperative venture with the Arling instead of allowing it actual political power over people who were not Grey Wardens. People were free to join and some prisoners had even been, but the position of Arl and Warden Commander were no longer synonymous. This then led to a change in location of power. Vigil’s Keep became the center of all Grey Warden operations while the city of Amaranthine remained the seat of power for the Arl and Arlessa.

Arl Braeden Ewart greeted them at the gates and was quick to bring them into the estate. His son, Raine, ran down from the second floor in barely restrained exuberance.

“Duncan!” He yelled and the two boys were then off, chasing each other through the large home, the drudgery of the journey forgotten.

While the boys played, Alistair and Elodie were guided up to the guest room where their things were brought. Elodie peeled her sopping wet robes from her body and let her hair down, unwound her breast band, tossing it carelessly to the side.

Alistair’s arms suddenly came around her, the heat of his chest pressing into her back as he leaned over and kissed her neck.

“I can think of something that can warm us up,” he whispered, kissing her ear. She chuckled.

“Oh? Would you care to enlighten me?”

And he did, oh he did.

They dined with Braeden, his wife Melantha, and their children. Wrangling Raine and Duncan proved to be a bit of an adventure though they were eventually lured to sit down and eat due to their rumbling bellies and waning energy.

Dinner passed with social ease and she fell back into bed with Alistair, curling up against his chest. He held her close and she reveled in their closeness. Duncan was asleep, or at least pretending to be, sharing a room with Raine.

Alistair held Elodie to him, smiling into her hair.

“You know,” he began, “with the taint gone…we could…”

“We could what? Live to the ripe old age of seventy?” She teased and he chuckled.

“Well, that but you know, Duncan’s always wanted a little sibling…if…if you want to try again,” his voice grew quiet and tentative. Her body tensed for a moment, remembering the loss, the…pain they had gone through before. She had always blamed her inability to keep a pregnancy on the taint but what if it wasn’t the taint? What if it was her? Could she live through that loss again?

Could she live if she didn’t at least try?

Her fingers trailed down over Alistair’s soft chest, drawing random patterns and contemplating a future of children. She wanted, oh she wanted, and this had always been the plan but there was that fear.

Elodie took a deep breath and nodded, “I want to try again.”

Alistair held her close, and while they didn’t try that night, there were many more nights to try in the future.

The next day brought with it fog and a heavy overcast of clouds, but there wasn’t rain, Elodie took her blessings where she could get them. She kissed Alistair on the cheek and Duncan on the forehead, wishing them goodbye after breakfast. She promised to return as soon as possible, which she hopefully would mean less than a week. Her horse was swift in its journey, carrying her to the old chasm now lined with winding roots and sprouting trees on the dirt walls of the chasm.

The cleft in the earth was just as great as she remembered it, though more overgrown now due to the heavy rains and the now receding signs of blight. Still, she saw dark corrupted spiders skittering down below, preying on deepstalkers. She thought back to the skrimmers she faced in the tunnels beneath Kal-Sharok and marveled at how different the spiders were here.

She left her horse at a nearby homestead, paying the farmers a sizeable sum to watch over the horse while she journeyed into the Deep Roads.

The upper tunnels hadn’t changed too much over the years, but the lower roads had. Dwarves from Orzammar and surface traders had created an outpost in the most easily cleaned parts of Kal-Hirol, though there was still a slight lingering scent of darkspawn and shit. The dwarves greeted her with familiar nonchalance. She had helped set up this outpost, had brought the documents from Kal-Hirol to the shaperate in Orzammar and she had even suggested merchants shift their routes to here for better trading opportunities. It had been a successful venture so far. Kal-Hirol was growing from a mere trading outpost to a small village, spreading further into the recesses of the old Thaig. Meanwhile, it also brought in gold to the nearby farms who wished to expand their consumer base. All in all, the arling of Amaranthine had seen some of the most impressive growth over the years – along with Redcliffe and the central Bannorn.

Small children ran to and from stalls, chasing each other in a rowdy game of tag. She dodged their speedy pathways and continued forth into the deep, walking past the stalls and the small outcropping of homes. The Titan’s shard sat comfortably attached to her belt and her magic seemed to…reach into it every now and then. Or maybe the shard was reaching for her magic and she was just responding. Either way, there were frequent moments where she felt more connected to the Stone around her, to the dwarves milling behind her. And as she delved deeper into the roads, heading to the deepest part of the Thaig, the more the shard drew her in, the more intertwined she felt with her surroundings.

Was this the trade off? She can no longer sense the Darkspawn but now she was connected to the stone?

Elodie rested her once tainted hand against the cool rock wall of the road. She gasped as energy suddenly poured into her, building a sudden connection that allowed her to feel things. The skittering of a spider. The thump thump of deepstalkers walking around. The indefinite spread of the taint.

It was so…deep here. How was planting the shard here a good idea? Wouldn’t the taint get to it? Would it be immune to such an overwhelming amount of corruption?

She closed her eyes and removed her hand, sojourning forth. Or maybe that was the point. Plant the shard of purity, of hope, in the deepest, darkest, most corrupted place, and let it grow to blast it all back. Fight the darkness from within.

A poetic thought, though she didn’t know how practical it was. But this was the Titan’s wish, and so she continued. Elodie made her way through Kal-Hirol, fighting spiders and darkspawn and deepstalkers, choosing to try and keep hidden as much as possible.

The deepest part.

Pour over the rock.

After two days of journeying into the dark, she found a drop that was so deep that she could no longer see the light that she cast down. The darkness enveloped it completely.

Here. A quiet feeling rose within her and she opened the box on her hip. The shard glowed brightly in her hand, almost blinding her eyes that were now accustomed to the dark. It pulsed and she closed her eyes, thanking it one last time before dropping it into the pit. It made no sound as it fell and hit the bottom. The light though…the light bloomed in the dark and the Stone sighed in relief. The lyrium in the surrounding stone, even the faint strands, erupted with energy that flowed in and out of Elodie like she was part of it. It was like when the Titan had initially blasted her but more…chaotic, less of a directed beam and more of a scattering of birds when they are awakened suddenly.

But then, all at once, it fled her body and receded down into the chasm with the shard.

She stood there on the edge of the pit for a moment longer, smiling in wonder. This world was weird, and yes, that was her professional Hero opinion.

It was another two days to make it to the trading outpost. And then another day to make it to Amaranthine. She was back in just under a week, less than a fortnight, really.

The rain started back up as she arrived and she was quick to hand off her horse to the stable master. She ducked into the estate, her robes now damp enough just to be annoying. The home was warm and dry, filled with echoing laughter from her son and Raine. She would have to take care to invite Raine’s family over more, Duncan should have friends, particularly if they are going to be the rulers of the land someday. Friendships and alliances make the government work or fail and Raine’s family was a good one. Amaranthine was beginning to flourish under their care.

And now that she was back and free to handle herself as however she wished…they were going to travel more. Duncan should see his country, know more than the palace, see how the people in his country lived. He should know the Banns and Arls and Arlessas, the Teyrnirs of his country. It was important to build up those friendships, facilitate those alliances.

Elodie was quiet as she made her way through the estate, contemplating the future as she was wont to do lately.

The sound of barking and children’s laughter broke her out of her reverie. The boys sped past her, two mabari hounds chasing them all in good fun. She chuckled and Duncan turned around to wave at her before barreling back down the corridor.

The guards nodded in greeting, saying “My lady” behind their helmets. She nodded back to them and she headed to the room where she and Alistair were staying. She entered the room to find it empty, which was fine really. She changed into more suitable clothes, clothes that had not been worn for a week and smelled like the Deep Roads. No matter how many times she braved those treacherous depths, she never quite got used to the smell. It was like rotting flesh combined with the smell of rancid milk. Unpleasant was really an insufficient term.

She was tempted to draw a bath…but it was close to supper and she was also hungry….

Bathe…or eat….

Bathe…or eat….

Her stomach rumbled, making up her mind for her. She washed her face and arms in the wash basin then applied some of the fancy Orlesian creams the Arlessa had gushed about. They smelled very flowery but she took flowery over rotting flesh and rancid milk any day.

Her hair went up into a braided bun, and she donned a gold necklace Alistair had gotten her in the early days of his kinghood. The chain was small and dainty and the rose pendant as delicate, not overly embellished, and it was her favorite piece of jewelry. The rose he had gifted her still remained pressed in the pages of her healing journal, somewhat wilted and old, but it was there, a symbol of their enduring love, even as they changed.

Elodie emerged from the rooms and inquired to one of the guards in the hall where the king might be. None of them knew which meant only one thing – the larder. Shaking her head, Elodie turned towards the kitchens, the children running past her again, the dog trailing after them.

The kitchens were busy with preparing supper and she was sure but she was able to sneak her way to the larder where the king was indeed ensconced in – nibbling on cheese. She put her hands on her hips and grinned at him. Upon seeing her, he blinked, mouth still half-full with cheese.

“Elodie!” He exclaimed, or he tried to with his mouth full. But his face brightened and he stepped to her quickly, wrapping her in a tight hug. He didn’t mention the smell of the weariness in her face from travel. He simply tucked his face against her neck.

“It’s over?” He whispered and she rubbed his back, smiling and nodding.

“At last, my love,” she replied. A chorus of “aaawws” erupted from behind them, reminding them how they were very much not alone. Elodie stepped back, blushing, but she took Alistair’s hand and guided him out of the larder all the way out into the hallway. Out of sight of the apparently nosy kitchen staff, she kissed his cheek, waiting for him to finish his cheese.

“It’s done, it’s all done, I don’t have to do anything more than I don’t want to, it’s done,” she repeated, kissing his face over and over again in barely restrained happiness. It flowed through her in great droves, filling her up, making her laugh free of inhibition.

“I want to try and I want to do. Alistair, there is just so much we can do, I –

“Marry me,” he blurted out and she stopped. Did he just? Her eyes widened, hand lifted up to her lips. He…did he…oh he did. She knew he did because he turned bright red, his eyes wide and he shuffled his feet like he did when he first asked her if he could kiss her.

She wanted to say yes but all that came out was, “I’m a mage.”

He quirked a brow at her, “Really? I had no idea.”

She poked his arm, “You know exactly what I mean.”

“I do. And the Circle is no more. You can’t be queen but I have been doing some reading and you don’t have to be queen. It’s called a consort? You’ll be my consort but really I just want you as my wife. Maker, I want to marry you, Elodie Amell, because I have loved you for so long and I am tired of having obstacles between us. Let’s just…be married.”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, or anything for a solid minute. Her eyes welled up with tears at the end of that minute, Alistair becoming more and more fidgety. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Their heights weren’t too different, and she was able to just snuggle into his shoulder, happily weeping.

“Yes, yes, YES! Yes, I will marry you and be your wife, consort, person,” she laughed. His arms came around her and held her to him.

“You are the love of my life,” he whispered into her hair.

“And now we are free to be just that,” she replied.

Elodie Amell had known many titles and labels in her life – apprentice, mage, Grey Warden, Hero of Ferelden, Arlessa, Warden Commander, rebel, Court Mage, mistress, mother, and now…she entered a new phase of her life, as wife, consort to the king, the love of her life. She was still powerful, still strong, but there was a certain…overwhelming joy to be able to be something she never she would be.

Free. It was all she wanted for so long. Free.

There were still ties that she was bound by, obligations to be met but she was ultimately…free. Free to decide to keep those obligations and friendships.

Late after supper and her and Alistair consummated his very sudden, improper proposal, Elodie sat down at the small desk in the guest room. She wrote the first letter to Karega, thanking her once again for her hospitality and kindness. She informed her of the success of her mission and that she was cordially invited to Elodie’s wedding to the King of Ferelden. Elodie was certain the dwarven queen would have to decline the offer, but it was only polite to invite her. She wrote the second letter to Leliana, and she addressed it as such instead of the apparently now Divine Victoria. This time, she was certain the newly elected Divine would insist on marrying the two. She wrote to Oghren at Vigil’s Keep, inviting him and Felsi and the babe. She wrote to Zevran, opening the letter with ‘so how many assassins can sneak into a royal wedding?’ Morrigan, Katra, Miriel, Teagan, and so many others were going to receive jubilant letters announcing the impending marriage between her and Alistair. Elodie was careful to word it so that they would not blab the information too soon – Alistair and Elodie would be expected to announce it themselves in some grandiose celebration most likely.

She nearly dropped the quill when she recalled they had yet to inform Duncan. Well. She supposed the letters could be sent after they informed him.

Elodie set everything aside and turned back to the bed. Alistair slept on his stomach, snoring softly. Amazing how many things changed and yet stayed the same over the years, she thought, crawling back into the covers, curling herself around his body. He made a snuffling sound before settling back in. She rested her head against his back and took a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell into a deep, restorative sleep.

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

A story I wrote for Alistair appreciation week. I think I’m a little late but I’m glad I wrote this anyways because Alistair is one of my favorite characters in the whole series.

A little background for this story: my first ever playthrough of a Dragon Age game, I flirted with everyone and made sure everyone liked my Warden, romanced Alistair, persuaded him to become king, and died killing the Archdemon. This takes place after the end of Origins and focuses on Alistair.

Under a cut because it’s long or you can check it out on AO3

Hearts Left Behind

A gray sky threatened rain through the window of the Council meeting room. King Alistair Theirin sighed and dragged his attention back to one of his ministers. The man liked to drone on during these meetings, evidently enjoying the sound of his own voice. Or maybe he enjoyed the thought that Alistair’s attention was on him during his long speeches. He was getting cynical, Alistair thought to himself, and fought to stop a shake of the head that would have derailed the minister’s speech. He wouldn’t have stopped it except for the fact that, once before, he’d tried distracting the man hoping he would cut the speech short. Instead, it had resulted in the man going over every point all over again, firmly convinced he would have missed something otherwise.

Five other people sat around the table. There were three women and two men, each in the colors of their respective guilds or specialties. Everyone wore warm, thick clothing against the cold. Alistair was the only one in black but that was all right. He was the only Gray Warden here. Besides, a treacherous little voice whispered in the back of his mind, he was still in mourning, wasn’t he? Glasses of spiced wine sat in front of each person and two empty pitchers sat in the middle of the table. As usual, the Council meeting had run long and they’d drunk all the wine. Alistair never had pages attend these meetings to refill the wine. He hoped, most of the time in vain, that the lack of further refreshment would induce the ministers to keep their speeches short.

Finally, thank the Maker, the man brought his speech to an end. He bowed in Alistair’s general direction and sat down. When Alistair nodded solemnly at him, the man nearly glowed with pride and satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, Alistair looked around the table at the men and women seated with him. The long-winded minister was the last to speak, though everything he’d just gone over verbally was in the written report sitting in the stack in front of Alistair.

“Is there any other business anyone would like to discuss?” Alistair asked, struggling to keep his tone steady and even. A headache threatened at his temples, exacerbated by the speeches. Head-shaking answered the question and Alistair hid the small smile that brought to his lips. “Then I call this meeting to an end. Have a good day, everyone.”

Alistair rose first and all the other ministers followed him. They bowed and filed out of the room. A few started talking as they left though about nothing he needed to be concerned about. Just a little court gossip. It seemed like Denerim ran on nothing more than gossip sometimes. He would keep an eye on it though. It seemed like the Game Orlesians liked to play was starting to make its way here. He waited until everyone had left, the last woman out closing the door behind her, before sinking back down into his chair with a sigh.

Three years since he had taken on a crown that he didn’t think he was ready for. That he still wasn’t sure he wanted. Though there wasn’t anyone else knocking down the door to be king. Not with the lingering pockets of darkspawn still causing trouble, the refugees displaced by the Blight, and the need to rebuild the kingdom after the Blight. Three years since the Archdemon fell to a Grey Warden’s blade. Three years since she fell.

Looking out the window again, Alistair saw that it was nearly time for his daily journey to the outskirts of Denerim. Everyone knew he left around this time, knew where he went, and knew not to interrupt him. The first person who tried, back during his first month of being king, had been met with the blade of his sword. He was only glad that they hadn’t seen the tears in his eyes. They’d only seen the blade and heard the anger in his voice. Wisely, no one had interrupted his daily vigil since.

Stopping in his rooms to set the heavy gold crown he wore to Council meetings on a table, he let out a relieved sigh. About the only times he wore it were Council meetings and whatever royal functions he couldn’t get away with not wearing it. The thing brought up too many things he wasn’t sure how to deal with. Then he slipped out of the castle, making a game of it and taking the back ways and unused corridors so no one saw him.

He bypassed the stables today. With the storm threatening, he didn’t want to make a poor horse stand out in the cold and the wet. Maker knew, he’d spent enough time in the cold and wet himself to not wish it on another. As he walked through the down, he saw his people hurrying home before the storm broke. A few hardy merchants stayed in their stalls, calling their wares to the passers-by. A few even stopped. Alistair stopped at one merchant selling meat pies and roasted apples to buy a pie and apple for himself. The Council meeting had lasted through lunch and he was starving.

“Majesty,” the man said, twitching his upper body forward in the suggestion of a bow as he handed over the wrapped meat pie and roasted apple.

Alistair nodded back as he handed over the coins. The merchant dropped the coins in a metal box underneath the stall and turned to the next person waiting behind Alistair. The meat pie kept his hands gloriously warm and, as he walked, Alistair slowly alternated bites between it and the apple. The apple was sticky-sweet, honey coating the outside. Both were delicious and he was quite pleased with his late luncheon.

More clouds gathered as he made his way out of town though the threatened rain didn’t start. Instead, a chill wind picked up, slicing through his clothes as it whistled through the streets. Once he was outside the walls, the wind was even colder and sharper, no longer blocked by buildings. Alistair finished the last bites of his lunch, wishing he’d thought to bring a cloak. It hadn’t looked quite so cold outside before.

His footsteps slowed as he started up the worn-down path to the summit of a little hillock outside town. It was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the bustling and noise from the town but still close enough to feel safe. Though he hadn’t heard any reports of darkspawn in the area, and he didn’t sense any nearby himself, being out in the wilderness alone still wasn’t advisable. Bandits managed to thrive alongside the roving pockets of darkspawn. If only they would kill each other off, two worries would be off his mind. Alistair chuckled to himself but the sound died away as he neared the summit.

Anger, a deep, smoldering, intense anger took its place as he saw someone swathed in a cloak standing in front of the monument there. It had been erected over the grave of the Hero of Ferelden and no small amount of work had been put into it by Alistair himself. The sword she’d used to slay the Archdemon had been mounted in the marble front of the monument. He marched angrily up behind the person who dared disturb his vigil, prepared to make them leave. And then the whispered strains of a familiar song in a familiar voice made him stop. All the anger drained away and he stepped up beside the woman companionably.

“Hello Leliana,” he said softly, unwilling to speak louder. This was too solemn a place for that. “How have you been?”

“Hello Alistair,” Leliana replied, turning a little to give him a sad little smile. “I’ve been… busy. How are you?”

“Busy,” Alistair chuckled. “It’s good to see you again. Been a long time.”

“Nearly three years,” Leliana said, turning back to the monument. “So long and yet, it feels like no time at all since we lost her.”

They stood in silence then, Alistair having no reply that wouldn’t bring him to tears. Just being here was enough to bring him to tears most of the time. And with the anniversary coming up, the feeling was even stronger. Most people thought the anniversary was a victorious one, something to be celebrated. Sometimes, Alistair even agreed. But most of the time, he could only remember what he’d lost that day.

He eyed Leliana, wondering where she’d been. She looked a little more careworn, a little more tired. She didn’t have the unwavering confidence and belief she’d once carried around like a glow. Instead, she seemed to sink into the shadows of her cowl, her eyes bright and hard. The last Alistair had heard of her, she’d gone back to the refuge of the Chantry.

Having her here brought up other memories, other questions. Where were their other companions, those who’d marched alongside them and fought at their side against an Archdemon and a darkspawn horde? Morrigan had disappeared after that final battle though, true to her word, she’d fought as hard as the rest of them during it. He’d thought about looking for her but hadn’t cared enough to. They’d been hesitant allies and it had been a relief to find her gone.

Wynne had gone back to the Circle to help rebuild for as long as she could. The spirit keeping her alive only had so much more power to give and she’d died not long after the tower had been repaired. Zevran was still on the run from the Crows, last Alistair had heard. He got infrequent notes from the assassin, mostly a tally of Crows sent after him that he’d dispatched. Alistair hadn’t really understood why Zevran kept in touch until he’d realized they were the closest thing he’d had to a family after the Crows. After that realization, he hadn’t minded the notes.

Oghren and Shale had disappeared into the Deep Roads together. They’d made no announcement of their intentions, instead leaving early one morning a week or so after the final battle. Oghren had left a note behind saying goodbye. It had been weighted down by an empty mug that still smelled of the beer he’d drunk for breakfast. Perhaps they would find more information about the Anvil and the dwarves who’d made Shale into a golem in the first place. Or maybe they would find darkspawn. No more notes had been forthcoming and Alistair doubted he’d ever see them again.

The mabari she’d saved before her initiation lived in the castle with Alistair. He liked the dog and Oliver liked him. He couldn’t stand the thought of turning the dog away or giving him to another master. Besides, he was a connection to her. She’d loved the dog and often spent evenings around the campfire with Oliver a warm, snoring bulk at her side. And that was that. Their company had all gone their separate ways, though each had paid their respects at her grave before they left. All except Leliana. She’d never been here, as if she couldn’t stand the pain of standing at the grave. It made Alistair wonder what she was doing here now though he couldn’t think of a polite way to ask.

“So, what brings you here now?” he asked finally, giving up on polite. It wasn’t really him anyways. Direct, that was how he’d acted and spoke before.

“I see you haven’t changed much,” Leliana said, making a sound that might be called a chuckle. “Always to the point with you. I like it. As to why, I felt it was time.”

“I see,” Alistair said, wondering if he should be flattered or insulted. He decided on flattered. “I come here every day. Just to be near her. Talk to her.”

“You loved her,” Leliana nodded. “I can see how it would be a comfort.”

“So did you,” Alistair replied. “I don’t think anyone who met her didn’t love her. And it tears my heart out every time. But I can’t stay away. It’s better to feel the pain than the emptiness.”

Silence fell between them again after those words. Lightning flashed in the distance followed by a deep rumble of thunder. The air thickened but still no rain. At least the cold wind stopped. But Leliana huddled deeper into her cloak and Alistair wished yet again that he had remembered his.

After several moments, Leliana stepped forward and placed one hand on the monument. She murmured what Alistair assumed was a prayer as he couldn’t hear the words. Then she stepped back, tucking her hand back inside her cloak and pulling it tightly closed. Tears glimmered on her cheeks.

“Would you have changed it, if you could?” Leliana asked, more breath than voice. “Taken her place, if you could?”

“In a heartbeat,” Alistair replied with a bitter little laugh. He crossed his arms over his chest, tears pricking at his eyes. It was to be one of those vigils then. All right. He could shed tears for the woman he still loved. “But she was gone too quickly. You know what the last thing she said to me was? “I love you, Alistair. Be safe. Be happy”. Then she was gone, sprinting at the Archdemon like she’d gone mad. I could only watch as she plunged her sword into its head, sacrificing herself to kill that monster.”

“I’m sorry,” Leliana said softly, wiping at her cheeks. “I would have done the same, if I could. But I wouldn’t have killed that monster. Only you or her could have done it. She was so brave and so strong. I miss her.”

Alistair’s throat closed up at the simple admission. Tears tracked down his cheeks, burning hot in the cold. Memories of that day flooded back, as sharp and vivid as if they had just happened. After the blast of the Archdemon’s death, he hadn’t been able to do anything but stand and stare. It was a good thing the area was clear of darkspawn because he would have been an easy target. Then he was running, running as fast as he could to her side. He’d ignored the giant dragon corpse, instead focusing on the smaller corpse lying next to its head.

He’d picked her up gently, cradling her close to his chest. Her eyes were blank and staring, glassy in death. Gentle fingers closed them and he’d bowed his head as tears flowed from his eyes. The others ran up to him, a few crying as they saw the body in his arms. Zevran had offered to help him carry her but Alistair had shaken his head sharply and held her even closer. Zevran had nodded and stepped back, all of them forming an honor guard around him.

The next clear memory he had was of standing over her body on the simple stone bier surrounded by all the people she’d saved. There were no dry eyes in the gathering and quite a few people held hands. They’d all been given a second chance. They’d been given their lives back by the woman lying before them. Alistair had no idea how he’d given her eulogy, how he’d kept his voice steady and loud enough to carry over the assemblage. He did remember, distinctly, the ache in his chest and the burning tears in his eyes. He remembered how his voice caught when he said she was loved, his hand resting over his heart. Even now, three years later, he could remember each and every word he said. They echoed in his nightmares.

Then, of course, came the work of surviving the rest of the day. People needed to be fed, injuries tended, the dead gathered and burned properly. And they were all looking at him for orders. He’d managed to set aside his grief enough to work, taking care of the people. His people, now. It was never quite forgotten but he managed to make it through the day. And the next and the next and the next. He moved from one task to another as if clinging to a lifeline, giving it all of his attention before moving on.

When the monument was being built over her grave, Alistair worked as hard as anyone else on it. He didn’t know stone carving but he was a willing set of muscles and he was put to work. And if tears dripped onto the ground or on the marble, his fellows were kind enough not to mention it. By now, everyone knew what she had meant to him. What he had lost when she’d killed the Archdemon.

“I feel guilty sometimes,” Leliana said, breaking the silence and startling Alistair out of his thoughts. He’d almost forgotten she was there. “Surviving and being happy about it. As if it’s a betrayal of her. There are days that I forget she’s gone. It’s funny, isn’t it? We all seemed to be charmed, surviving fights that should have killed us. In the end, we all lived but her. We all got to see the end of the Blight but her.”

“You’re not the only one,” Alistair admitted. “If I’d been just a little faster, it would have been me instead of her. I feel guilty about that. There was a moment in the battle when we looked at each other, wondering who would sacrifice their life. She chose faster. I feel guilty that she chose for me to live and I feel guilty that I feel guilty.”

“A vicious little circle, isn’t it?” Leliana laughed, though the sound had no humor in it. “But she wouldn’t want us to feel that way. Wouldn’t want you to feel that way. She told you herself, remember? “Be safe. Be happy.” And we should. For her, in thanks for the life she gave us. Or so I tell myself. It never seems to help.”

“No,” Alistair agreed, wiping at tears that had managed to escape his eyes. More thunder growled, closer than before. He looked at Leliana, studying the lines around her eyes. Perhaps now was a time for secrets told, for letting go of pain that had wrapped around his soul. “You know, a few times after the monument went up, I had nightmares. I would dream she was alive, buried under the stone and dirt. That she was smothering.”

“Oh, Maker,” Leliana breathed, sympathy in her voice. “That must have been horrible.”

Yes, it was,” Alistair nodded and took a deep breath. The next part, he’d never told anyone. “One time, during one of the worst nightmares, I found myself outside. I was covered in dirt and my fingers were bleeding. I was standing here, in front of the monument, in a pair of breeches and bare feet. I’d been clawing at the monument, digging into the dirt, frantic to get to her. Blood and dirt smeared the monument where I’d clawed at it. When I realized what I was doing, I cleaned it up as best as I could. The next morning, I heard rumors in the market that the monument was being haunted. People had heard heartbreaking screams in the middle of the night. Their words. “Heartbreaking.” As if my heart wasn’t already broken.”

“I’m so sorry, Alistair,” Leliana said, putting a hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “I wish the Maker had been kind and granted you a long life with her. You both deserved that.”

“Maybe,” Alistair shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not what came to be. So now I try to be the kind of king she would have been proud of. And I visit her, every day. Sometimes I talk to her, tell her what’s going on. Work through thorny decisions by telling her my options. I think she would have enjoyed it all, to be honest.”

“I think she would have too. She would have loved just being with you, Alistair,” Leliana said. “We all saw how much she loved you.”

Alistair nodded, at a loss for words. It had felt magical, so perfect and overwhelming when he was with her. He had loved her more than he had ever thought possible and still did. If only there had been some way for both of them to survive. But it was impossible. Nothing he had ever heard of would kill an Archdemon and keep it dead than a Grey Warden’s hand on the blade. A death was required to kill the Archdemon. There was no other way.

“I’ll see her again,” Alistair said suddenly. He didn’t need Leliana’s hand on his shoulder to feel her stiffening.

“Alistair,” Leliana started to say before he held up a hand.

“No, not like that,” Alistair reassured her. “I’m not going to send myself after her before my time. But it will be my time at some point. Being a Grey Warden assures that. My Calling will come and that will be the beginning of the end. I’ll see her again in the fade and we’ll have that time we should have had now.”

Leliana squeezed his shoulder. They stood in silence for several more moments, each lost in memories. Alistair was glad Leliana had come, had finally said goodbye at her grave. It was nice to see an old friend, to remember someone they both lost. Alistair put one hand on the monument as Leliana had done, murmuring a prayer for the soul of the woman he loved. Then, he and Leliana turned as one and started walking back towards town.

“What is next for you?” Alistair asked as they walked. “Going back to the Chantry?”

“Yes and no,” Leliana replied. Her voice was full of surprise and determination. “I’ve been called by Divine Justinia to be her Left Hand. For the foreseeable future, that will be my life.”

“I wish you luck,” Alistair said, surprised himself. The Left Hand was not an easy life. But if anyone could handle it, he thought Leliana could. “She chose well, I think.”

“Thank you,” Leliana said, a smile in her voice. She stopped outside the gates and stared up at them. “This is where I stop, I think. I just came to say goodbye. I wish you luck as well, Alistair. And remember her last words. Be safe and be happy. As happy as you can be.”

She hugged him impulsively and they clung to each other for a moment. Then Leliana stepped away, pulling her cowl closer around her face. She melted into the shadows and Alistair lost sight of her. He waited for a few moments, wondering if he’d see her again walking away. But she didn’t appear and a warning rumble of thunder sent him hurrying into town.

He made it to the castle just as the skies opened up and cold, stinging rain pelted down. Feeling like a little boy again, he ran across the courtyard, the rain soaking him to the skin in the short time he was outside. He slammed a door open and rushed through, startling a maid with sheets in her arms on the other side. She yelped and then bowed on recognizing him. Alistair waved the bow away and the maid hurried on with her task.

The trip back to his rooms was accomplished as easily as the trip out had been, Alistair seeing no one on the way. He changed into dry clothes and poked the fire into roaring life. Then he sat down in the chair in front of it and poured himself a glass of spiced wine. As the storm raged overhead, shaking the stones of the castle with the thunder, Alistair thought of the past and the future. And he thought that he could follow his beloved’s last request. He could be safe and he could be happy. As happy as he could be without her. He toasted the fire and downed the last of his wine. Then he slipped into bed and went to sleep, determined to be the king she would have wanted.