A/N: Spoilers, spoilers, spoilers. I can't stress this enough. If you haven't played through DA:O enough to get the ending I'm using for this story, you're going to spoil QUITE a bit for yourself, especially about who the "Secret, Optional" character is. So anything and everything after this note may or may not contain spoilers. You've been warned.

Also, this fic contains some language some might find offensive. Oh well.

Exigo
Chapter One
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad
POV: Lennith Amell (F. Human Mage PC)

It had been just over a year since the archdemon was killed, and even longer since she had stepped into the Circle Tower, the place that had been her home since the start of her apprenticeship. She was not surprised that almost everyone she encountered in the Tower recognized her as the Grey Warden. What was surprising was how many mages and mage-apprentices were in the Tower.

When she had last been in the Tower, she and her companions had cleared the place of all abominations, and at that time, she could count on her fingers exactly how many mages and apprentices survived. Now, however, the halls were bustling with mages-in-training, young and old. It was as though Uldred had never nearly destroyed the Tower. It was just like it had been when she was still an apprentice.

"Lennith!"

Lennith Amell, last Ferelden Grey Warden and hero of Ferelden, turned around to find Petra jogging towards her. The mage was only slightly older than Lennith, but since the Uldred incident, the two mages had become friends.

Stopping in the hallway she was walking down, Amell smiled and hailed her friend. "Petra. How are you?"

"Not bad. What brings you here?" the red-head asked, coming to a stop before the Warden.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you for asking," Lennith grinned at the lack of a greeting.

"Sorry, but you can't exactly blame me for getting right to the point. You haven't been to the Tower in over a year, you haven't written or anything, and you suddenly show up out of no where. Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Can't I come visit my old home once in a while?"

"If that were the case, you would visit more often, not once a year."

The dead seriousness of the look Petra gave the younger mage made Amell shift uncomfortably and stare at the wall to her right. After a few moments, when Petra would not stop staring and crossed her arms over her chest in a way that simply yelled: 'I'm not moving until I get some answers', Lennith sighed and shrugged. "I've wanted to come back and visit, honestly, but I haven't had the time. Grey Warden business takes up a lot more time and energy than you would think, despite the fact that the Blight is over. I haven't had time to write, and this is the first chance I've had to come back."

"Oh," came the reply, and Petra let her arms fall to her sides. That explanation seemed sufficient. "Well, you're here now."

"Indeed I am," Lennith grinned. "So, what have I missed?"

The two mages made their way through the Circle Tower, catching up on old times and talking about anything and everything that came to mind. Although they didn't pass anyone in the halls that Amell recognized, every other person recognized her, and even though it was something she was thoroughly used to, it was still weird. Despite the strangeness of it all, she smiled and waved at every person that tried to get her attention.

It was all so tiring, keeping up the facade she had grown accustomed to wearing all the time, but it was necessary. How would people react to see the Grey Warden sad, even depressed, or just down right exhausted? The Blight was over, that was true, but Ferelden would not be fully rebuilt for years to come, and if the person who was responsible didn't smile and act happy all the time, well, that wouldn't be good, would it? Lennith had come to terms with the fact that she was viewed as "Ferelden's Shining Light", despite the fact it was not her that struck the killing blow to the archdemon. But, the people needed something or someone to be the epitome of their happiness and hope of renewal.

Sitting on the edge of Petra's bed, it was hard for Lennith to keep their conversation going; she was downright exhausted from her travels. When the time came to return to the Tower, she traveled almost non-stop, rarely sleeping because--

"Lennith? Are you alright? You haven't heard a thing I've been saying for the past five minutes."

Blinking a few times, she looked up at Petra. "Sorry. I'm just tired, is all," she admitted.

The older mage nodded, understanding. "Shall we go tell Greagoir and Irving you'll be spending the night?"

"I was hoping for more than that, if they'd let me."

"Oh, yes, I can see them turning away the Grey Warden, hero of Ferelden. No, they most certainly would not want you staying here for another minute."

"Yes, sarcasm suits you well, Petra," Amell rolled her eyes, and standing up, she realized how tired her body really was; her lids hung heavy, her feet did their hardest to keep her planted in one spot, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in Petra's bed and slip off into sleep. Being the Grey Warden she was, Lennith was quite used to doing what she had to do, rather than what she wanted to do, and so she slapped her mind into focus before following her friend out of the room and down the hall to find both Irving and Greagoir in the First Enchanter's office.

"Of, course, my dear, you are more than welcome to stay at the Tower, for as long as you wish. It was, after all, your home before you had to leave us," Irving spoke slowly, his old voice creaking with age and power.

"Yes, I see no reason why not," the Knight-Commander nodded.

Irving's response was exactly what Lennith expected. Greagoir's, however, was not. She assumed he would refuse, then proceed to bicker with the First Enchanter until he relented and agreed that it would be fine that she stayed in the Tower. It was odd how easily and readily he agreed, but perhaps the old man had softened up since she was responsible not only for the end of the Blight, but for clearing out the Tower after Uldred's debacle. Honestly enough, it was nice not seeing that critical look in the Knight-Commander's eye, that glint that somehow allowed him to peer into a person, past their skin and into their soul, the look that said 'I am always watching'.

"Petra, why don't you bring Amell to the dining room to get some food while I send an apprentice to fix up one of the beds for her," Irving spoke up, nodding to the red head.

"Of course, First Enchanter," she replied, bowing her head in respect. Hooking her arm around Lennith's, the older mage lead the Warden out of Irving's office and back into the hall. Once they were a few feet away from the open door, Petra turned to look at her friend. "How long are you planning on staying? A while, I hope. We have quite a bit of catching up to do," she smiled.

"I'm not sure, truthfully," Amell shrugged, her lips curving down in a small frown. "I was thinking of just staying for a week, you know, like a small vacation. But maybe I'll stay longer. The Blight is over, and since a handful of Orlesian Grey Wardens have moved into Solder's Peak, to help the Ferelden Grey Wardens rebuild, there's no reason why I have to return immediately. Maybe I'll just wait until there's a need for me to return."

The two mages sat in the near empty dining room, speaking quietly while Amell ate a small portion of bread and vegetables. She didn't feel very hungry, but she knew she had to get something in her stomach. She knew that casting magic on an empty stomach was quite possibly the most stupid thing a mage could do. Channeling magic used up quite a bit of the body's energy, and casting while hungry or tired could lead to some fairly dangerous outcomes. Once, Lennith nearly took off Alistair's head and her dog's fur the first time she tried casting after going almost a full day without food. True, she was now in the Circle Tower, surrounded by mages and templars, and there was a very low chance of anything dangerous happening, but as a Grey Warden she learned to always be prepared.

A young man, an apprentice, by his robes, interrupted the two mages. "Forgive me, Grey Warden, but I've been asked to show you to your room," he spoke softly, his head bowed low, eyes never looking up.

With a nod and murmur of thanks, the women got up from their seats and followed the apprentice out of the dining room, up a few flights of stairs and down the hallway.

Leaning in close to Amell, her brow furrowed, Petra whispered, "Why would they give you a room on the templar's floor?"

"Not enough beds on the mage's floor?" she whispered back, her eyes glancing around quickly.

Petra shook her head quickly and firmly. "We mostly have apprentices, so many of the beds on the mage floor are empty."

"Your room, Grey Warden," the apprentice stopped and motioned to the room he was standing in front of.

Both mages stood up straight and stared, first at the room, then to the two templars standing guard outside of the room, then to the apprentice, then at each other.

Groaning, and letting her head fall forward in defeat, Lennith muttered, "So this is why Greagoir readily agreed to let me stay at the Tower."

With a huff, Petra firmly crossed her arms over her chest and glared daggers at both templars. "So, what, the Grey Warden, HERO of Ferelden is under house arrest?"

The templar standing to the right of the room, his head covered by his templar helm, shook his head before replying, "No. Our orders were to only stand guard while the Grey Warden slept."

"Yes, because I'm a Grey Warden I'm more susceptible to becoming an abomination. Greagoir and the Chantry must be happy as pigs in shit to have me staying in the Circle Tower. What better way to keep an eye on me?" Lennith's voice dripped with sarcasm and annoyance.

The same templar shrugged weakly. "We're only doing what we've been ordered to, Grey Warden. We know we're all alive thanks to you, but, we can't refuse our orders," he muttered through his helm, apparently embarrassed by his duty.

Sighing softly, Amell just nodded and accepted it. What else could she do? "Forgive me, ser Templar. I've had a long day." She turned to Petra. "I'm just going to go fall asleep. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Of course. I'll come break you out of your prison once I'm awake," the older mage winked before departing.

"Just so you know," Lennith spoke to the templars, stepping past them and into her room, her hand reaching out to press against the door. "I snore. And loudly." With an evil grin, she closed the door behind her and flopped down on the bed, groaning happily as her muscles relaxed.

Now that she was alone and it was quiet, the question finally crept into her mind: Was it a good idea, returning to the Circle Tower? Truthfully, Lennith had no idea whether it was the smart thing to do, or quite possibly the most idiotic...

Before the last Landsmeet convened, before the death of the archdemon, Amell had to make a decision. Would she support Anora as queen or Alistair as king? For days, she spent every night turning over her choices and all the possible outcomes. Everything fell down to whether or not she would be greedy and act upon her heart. She could make Anora queen, and then run away with Alistair and rebuild the Grey Wardens with him. Or, she could make Alistair king, forget her own happiness, and go to rebuild the Grey Wardens by herself. For some reason, though, she wasn't happy with either decision. She could see how power hungry Anora would be, how many mistakes she might make, because like it or not, she was Loghain's daughter, and some way or another, that would most certainly have some sort of negative impact upon her rule. But she knew Alistair didn't want to be king. That alone would jeopardize his rule, and in the end, she knew that everything would fall to Arl Eamon, and while the man was still quite strong and spirited, he was getting old.

And yet.. what if she mixed her options? Anora and Alistair, while they might never love each other, were good counters for one another. They would learn from each other, and in that, they would rule strong, and that would be best for Ferelden, wouldn't it? What would the Grey Warden's happiness matter? In the long run, it didn't. Her heart be damned, it was the best decision she could make.

The night that she had made her final decision, Lennith packed up her heart and her emotions, shoved them into a little box, and hid them from herself. Out of no where, she would destroy what she and Alistair had, and if she didn't hide her emotions from herself, she would break, especially when she would see Alistair's reaction, see his own heart break right in front of her. That was what she was most worried about – not hurting herself, but hurting Alistair. Despite her stomach roiling, Lennith eventually fell asleep. And dreamed.

When she awoke the next morning, she couldn't tell if her heart and mind were in collusion and just downright fucking with her, or if they were offering her some solace. She could remember sitting up in bed, her brows knitted together, confusion plain as day across her face. Why would she think about him? She had put him out of her mind the moment he damned her for not destroying every single mage left alive in the tower after Uldred's downfall. But before all that he had liked her, and she him, although not even her closest friends even knew about her crush...

In fact, wasn't it because of him that she first turned to Alistair? She could distinctively remember that at first, she found Alistair entertaining, funny and silly, and a great friend, nothing more. Wasn't it because he had nearly spat at her that she did her best to forget about him completely? And what better way to forget about someone than to turn to a friend. Yes, it was then that Lennith found herself to actually be interested in Alistair as more than just a comrade-in-arms, more than just a friend. For the first time, she saw how handsome he was, and that was the first time she let him in.

So why did she dream about him and not Alistair? Why, after all this time, when it was nothing more than a silly, naïve girl's first crush did she dream about him? And then it dawned on her: she never really forgot about him, nor did she forget about the feelings she had for him, or how her feelings soared to new heights when she saw him in Uldred's prison, and then plummeted and exploded when his dehydrated and hate filled ramblings filled her ears:

"...one thing I always wanted, but could never have..."

"...ill-advised infatuation..."

"...foolish fancy of a naïve boy..."

"You are a mage, and I a templar. It is my duty to oppose all that you are."

Despite all of it, despite everything, Lennith still found herself wondering. Would it be possible? Could it be possible? Probably not, and in the end, she was probably setting herself up for a painful downfall, one she might not recover from, but she had to try. She was the heroine, damn it, and she would make her own happy ending, even if it broke her heart and shattered her dreams. For once... for once in all the time she had been a Grey Warden, she would do something for herself.

With a smile on her lips, and a goal before her, she had gotten up from bed and with Arl Eamon, made her way to the Landsmeet. Although her decision was made, she was still quite glad she had the opportunity to speak with both Anora and Alistair before making the announcement. The fact that Alistair was ready to be king made it all the easier, and after a whispered, 'I'm sorry', she made her announcement. As she had predicted, the hurt on Alistair's face when she made her decision was almost tangible, but some how, at the same time... it was just down right funny. She could just picture him yelling a big ole 'what the fuck?' at her.

He said as much when they were finally alone. Had he not matured as much as he had over their journey together, it would have taken much, much longer to explain why she did what she did. But when she told him how it would be the best for Ferelden, that he himself had not so long ago reminded her of their duty and honor as Grey Wardens, he understood, and accepted it. That was the last time they had been alone together. The last time they had kissed. And as she planned, it was the last time they would ever see each other again.

That was when she had finally decided that she would return to the Circle Tower. Sure, it took much longer than expected, but as a Grey Warden, technically the last as Loghain had been the one to slay the archdemon, and Alistair was now king, she had plenty to do. But once affairs were in order, and the bulk of the wandering darkspawn hordes disposed of, Lennith began her journey back to the place that was her home.

And so there she was, sitting on a bed in the Circle Tower wondering where Cullen was, and how he would react to seeing her.

A/N: If anyone is confused, the game ending that I'm using for the premise of the story is that Alistair was "hardened", Loghain was spared and made a Grey Warden, Alistair and Anora marry and Loghain is the one to defeat the archdemon. No god child for Morrigan!

Petra was such a minor character in the game, that I thought I'd bring her into the story as one of the Grey Warden's friends. I admit, when she asked Wynne if she should come along during the Broken Circle line, I had hoped she would. Sniffle, oh well.

And last, the "Templar Floor". I'm sure everyone agrees that the Circle Tower has many, many more floors than were shown in the game, so I decided to give the templars a floor of their own. How nice of me!