The waves were lapping on the shore, as the bitter cold wind blew in from the ocean. He sat on the stone beach overlooking the grey waves. The small boats hull rocked gently against the shoreline, making soft scratching noises against the sand and pebbles. The old man looked back at the fortress standing so menacingly over the cliffs. His home, her home eventually. Standing, his joints aching, he began to untie the rope that kept the boat on the shore. Once loose he pushed the boat out into the tides, following it, and finally stepping into it once it was far away enough from shore. His dark eyes looked back up to the fortress of Amaranthine, and remembered.

His father had been a fisherman, and at one time he expected that he would be one too. Instead, he was conscripted to serve in the Arl's guard as a teenager. Even with his master's death, he was kept on at the menacing fortress. As he had not taken part in any of his Lord's evil schemes, he was allowed to continue in the service of new masters. He was at the gate the day she arrived. Flame red hair flowing behind her, thick scale armor shining in the rays of the morning sun, swords strapped to her back the likes he had never seen. She was the Hero of Ferelden, and he was in awe. She stopped the chesnut horse just short of him, her face was twisted into an expression of hurt and rage. The men that followed behind her were there to fortify the castle at the King's insistence.

Dropping off her horse she walked up to him, scowling. "What's your name!" It was a demand, not a question. He stared at her stunned by her beauty. "Speak up soldier!" He shook his head, coming out of his stun. "Aeric, m'lady!"

She nodded to him and went inside. A few hours later he was assigned to the guardpost of her office. He didn't know it at the time, but it was because he was the only guard who had been in the service of Howe more than a year. The Commander wanted to keep him close in case he was a faithful Howe man. Aeric was unaware that the Commander was a Cousland.

It was his time at his post that he began to know her. Not because she ever spoke to him, she had little but glares and commands, but because he heard he rages, heard her tears. The strong face she wore before her recruits and staff was shattered when she went into that office alone. It was not his place to comfort her, nor was it his place to tell anyone about her moments of weakness. Still, he wanted so many times to enter that room, to be there for her.

It took six months before she started talking to him. Six months before she began to trust him. Never asking what he desired out of his position, she made him one of her personal guards when she travelled. He was not a Grey Warden, and it confused him. He never questioned her though, only doing as he was told. Together they combed Fereldan, looking for recruits to join the Order. They stopped at many places along the way just to visit her acquaintances. Never did she introduce them, it was like he was not really there. Like a shadow, he followed and guarded her. Bandits, darkspawn, and wild animals became common enemies on the road. Side by side they saw battle, but he knew these enemies were nothing to her skill. They returned with recruits, and he once again became the guard at the door.

It was one year after she had taken over Amaranthine when the King arrived. Storming up to her office door, the young King's eyes seemed angry. Aeric put himself in front of the door, not letting the King of all Ferelden pass. "Get out of my way!" His voiced echoed through the entire keep. Aeric stood his ground not saying anything. He had one job and he would be damned if anyone would keep him from it. The King shouted louder, and for a moment Aeric believed he meant to cut him down. The door opened behind him, her fingers on his shoulders told him that it was alright to move, and the King huffed, walking into the office. Standing there he heard the entire argument between the two former lovers, and he felt his heart break for his Commander. The King left the office in as much of a huff as he arrived, only this time his eyes were red from anger and tears. Aeric stood in silence, doing his duty.

Two years after she arrived was the first time she spoke to him without it being a command. The King had returned for the fifth time in the season, their arguing worsened each visit. He would hear the King beg her in desperation, and he would hear her voice in cold rebuff. Then the King would yell and throw hurtful secrets at her that no one else should hear. She would cry, and he would leave. This time after the King made his exit, she stood in the door looking at her silent guard. She pulled him inside the office, and just began talking to him. She babbled, spilling her guts, and he stood there listening to everything he had already known about her. His heart was breaking for her, but he was just a guard, a fisherman's son. He was not worthy to comfort a hero, so he stood in silence until she was done. "Thank you. Aeric." The words were soft as she walked with him back to his post.

Two and a half years after her arrival when she finally told him her first name. The King had stopped coming, her fits of anger and sorrow had lessened. It was a late night in her office, and he refused to relinquish his post until she left it for her quarters. The door opened, her eyes were dark, and he could smell the alcohol on her. She grabbed him, practically throwing him into the room and slammed the door behind her. At first, she yelled at him, screamed at him as if he were someone else. Then she just fell into his arms so suddenly that he almost didn't catch her. He cradled her as gently as he could as she cried, one hand stroking her back. They were like that until the moon rose high in the night, until she finally tilted her face to his and kissed him. He kissed back tentatively, afraid not to and afraid of pressing it further. She slumped in his arms, his strong Commander, and he picked her up. When he got to her room, he tried to gently wake her, "Commander?" Those dark green eyes half opened, looking up at him, "Call me Abrill."

It was three years after she walked into his life, that he asked to become a Grey Warden like her. Since the night she had told him her name, they had begun to talk. It was awkward at first, as he was trying to resolve his duties as her guard, and apparently becoming her friend. When he requested it, she flat out denied him. There was an anger in her voice he had not heard since the King's last visit. He could not understand why, but he had never questioned her. He would not start now.

The fourth year after he had been stunned by her beauty they were married. They went to Highever, her noble brother throwing a celebration like he had never seen. They took their vows on the cliffs behind the family's estate. The King was in attendance, and he looked miserable the entire time. It was on their wedding day that he was finally introduced to some of her former traveling companions. The Antivan elf and the drunken dwarf stole him away from her during the feast, and drilled him with a million questions. They wanted to know how he had won her heart. His only response as the dwarf filled his third mug of ale, was that he had stood vigilant and kept her trust in all matters. The elf whispered something to the dwarf, as the bard took him by the elbow to get him to dance with her. He heard the dwarf cough and sputter as they walked towards the dance floor, "You're right, he does look a lot like him." His steps were unsure as he danced with the bard, and he saw his wife dancing with the King. When the dance was over, he saw her shaking her head and place something in the King's hand. When the celebration was over, they learned the King had left soon after the dance.

The fifth year after his heart had been stolen by the Hero of Ferelden, she bore their first child. It was a girl, eyes as deep emerald as her mother's, a small shock of strawberry blonde hair on her tiny head. Until that moment, he thought he had every joy he could ever hope for in life. Now his heart expanded and grew to accommodate the precious creature that came from their union. She was named Eleanor after Abrill's mother.

The years passed for them as they do all people. Two more children came into their life, two boys, who grew strong beside their older sister. They were happy, even as Abrill still went out into the world recruiting for the Grey Wardens. He no longer traveled with her, instead remaining at the keep to care for their children. He maintained the keep in her absence, although she had never let him officially join the order. In the fifteenth year of Eleanor's life, they were invited to Denerim to the twentieth anniversary of the end of the Blight. Sometimes he found it easy to forget the woman he loved was the same person who had saved them all. The King and Abrill had settled their pain, and were close friends.

It was twenty-eight years after they met, when the light of his life had rode away from their home. The children had come to see her off and comfort him. She had told him this day would come, had tried to prepare him for it. He was still heartbroken, watching her ride side by side with the former King. He had abdicated his throne to his only son. Aeric wanted more time with her, to tell her how beautiful she was, how wonderful she was at being a mother, and how much he had always respected the way she commanded her men. Once they were out of sight, everything he had ever left unsaid welled up in him, and it took all his strength not to get on his horse and ride after them. She had barely been gone an hour, but it felt like a lifetime.

The boat rocked on the waves. It had been twenty-three years since she left. Blessed with old age, able to see his children marry, and enjoy the sound of his grandchildren's laughter. The keep had passed on to another Grey Warden, but they had allowed him to stay on and live with them. When he grew sick, he had not told his children. He did not want them to leave their lives to dote on him. He had known a full life of love, something not many ever experienced. The boat moved further and further into the Amaranthine Sea, the waters his father used to fish. Lying in the bottom of the boat, he looked up at the clouded sky before closing his eyes. He was just a fisherman's son, but he had captured the heart of a hero.