Preface:

I crept through the rafters of the Chantry silently, trying to stay true to my rogue training. With a gentle inhalation, I took in the familiarly musty scent of the place. I smiled softly, sadly, in light of why I was there. It was my fault, really, that this sadness was thrust upon me. I took full responsibility of it. I sighed quietly, trying to remember a happier day, just a week ago. Yet I could not be content with that memory, either…it was bitter as well as happy.

I'd just defeated the Archdemon. The townspeople gathered in a day of great revelry for the act. My companions—namely Oghren—threw back enough mead to make a dragon tipsy. Yet one was absent…Morrigan.

A pang of regret shot through me at the thought of Morrigan. She was…gone. My friend, my sister…gone. I should've gone after her, but she had simply disappeared. She warned me that once the Old God was gone, she would be as well. I had only hoped that she would linger to say goodbye.

My thoughts turned to another notable companion. Alistair. He refused to drink as well. I knew it was nerves more than morals. Goodbyes were said that day to all of my companions, save for Alistair. He would never accept our goodbye, and I was painfully aware. Sometimes, I doubted that I would truly be able to accept it.

But this was it. This was my final goodbye. I would attend the wedding, and nothing more. After our conversation following the Landsmeet, it'd been decided that he couldn't have a mistress. It was just as well. I couldn't have caused that pain to him, to me.

Anora? I could stand to cause her that pain.

All was being prepared for the ceremony. Elven servants—some, I recognized from the Alienage—bustled about, setting up pews and adorning them with decorations. All around the room, gentle lace and iridescent satin shone out among the servants. The pulled rolls of the fabric out, lining pews and adorning the altar.

Zevran leaned against the altar as two elven wenches prepared it. I could tell he was flirting, by the hunter's gleam in his eyes and the playful smirk on his lips. Of course, the wenches looked pissed…but his expression gave it away, too. I couldn't help but smile at that. I would truly miss him after this day, especially his lyrical voice and words. My heart clenched as I realized I would likely never hear him again. But he knew the deal as well as I did. He would watch over Alistair, protect him from attempts on his life while I continued to grow the Grey Wardens in Amaranthine.

He owed me no less, for saving and befriending a lout such as him.

I shifted in my perch and leaned against a support beam. My legs stretched out in front of me, one on top of the other so both would fit on the rafter. I settled in to wait for the festivities…however dreaded they truly were.

Once the room had been prepared with the soft white lace and bolder red satin, guests began to file in. I leaned to the side a bit to examine their faces. Some, I knew, I would likely never see again. And that added to the pit of sorrowful regret that grew restless in my broken core.

In the front pew sat Arl Eamon and Lady Isolde, next to them Bann Teagan. I disliked the lot of them, save for Teagan. It was Eamon's idea that Alistair become king. It was he who wished to appease Anora, and I knew only one way to do that. It would, sadly, be to marry the two…a thought more despicable than death. And Isolde? Well, Isolde was a bitch. I saved her son, and she still hated me.

I assumed my eyes were playing tricks on me when my gaze fell onto the man next to Teagan. Yet no matter how many times I blinked, he remained. He was a man of great poise and stature, and of greater familiarity: Sten. I held back my surprised gasp. He should've been on a ship to Par Vollen, but he must've delayed for the wedding. Something in his body language indicated tension, as if he was waiting for something. Or someone. Me, in particular.

Sorry, Sten, I thought, but I must disappoint.

My eyes trailed to the second pew, since it seemed I did not know the rest in the first pew. There sat Leliana, Wynne, and Oghren's woman, Felsi. I looked for Oghren, and found him standing near a tankard of ale. I smiled wryly and shook my head, stirring loose a few strands of my fiery red hair from its bun. How typical of Oghren, to be nearest the alcohol. My eyes trailed through the room, seeking the two absent companions besides Alistair and Nel, my mabari. Yet both Shale and Morrigan were absent, not to my surprise. Morrigan had promised her absence, and Anora frankly disliked Shale enough to keep her from the wedding.

The remainder of the guests were of no concern to me. I recognized some from missions and tasks during the Blight, but I did not care for them as I did my companions. I noticed how on edge some of them were, however. I supposed they were expecting an appearance from Alistair's estranged lover.

My eyes flicked to the altar. To my surprise, Alistair was already standing there. As soon as I realized that, the procession began. Zevran took his place by Alistair's side, the Chantry Mother following soon after. I could see in Alistair's bronze eyes clearly his reluctance, as if he would not be calm unless he saw me. He looked panicked, like he was facing the Archdemon once more. It made me want to laugh, but I sobered when I realized why he looked so very flustered:

He wasn't awaiting me.

He was awaiting Anora.

His eyes darkened somberly as he looked down the aisle. I followed his gaze to the tall, golden woman striding towards him.

She looked like an angel floating down an aisle of fire and snow. Her hair cascaded down her shoulder, like strings of woven gold curled. Her lustrous white dress billowed behind her like a curtain in the breeze. The bodice fit her tightly, accentuating her deep, womanly curves and plump bosom.

She looked beautiful.

But I could see in Alistair's eyes that it did not matter. He could feel nothing but contempt for the beautiful woman.

I was exactly the same.

Their vows were short and bitter, as was the ceremony. Many of the guests continued to search the room. I supposed it was for me, but none knew where I was, save for a certain Antivan Crow. Or, rather, ex-Antivan Crow.

Once the ceremony was finished, an overwhelming ill sensation flooded everything about me.

It was over. Everything. I would never hold Alistair again, never even see him. This was it. Everything after this would be empty. Every breath would be wanting for life. Every heartbeat would be aching for love. Every word would be meaningless, every thought soulless. He simply wouldn't be there…and that would take everything from me.

I hadn't thought of it, truly…how hurtful his absence would be. It would be like a poison, taking my life…my soul. How would I go on?

I choked on my bitter sobs as they forced their way through my lips, trying to make them travel back down my throat. Tears streamed down my cheeks, the salty, warm liquid burning my flushed skin at contact. I could barely swipe the streams away before they regenerated, burning his poisonous absence further into my being.

The pain of losing him twisted deeply in my core. It was a pain deeper than any blade could possibly wish to inflict. This pain shook my being in a way that not even the Archdemon's soul passing through me could.

Silently, I crept towards the window high in the dust-ridden rafters. It had been my entrance, and was soon to be my escape. I stood once I reached the window, balancing expertly on the thin rafters. Deeply, I inhaled, the fresh air that seeped through the windows momentarily ebbing my sickness away.

Before I ducked through the window to my loveless destiny, I took one glance back. Just one.

And in that one, I locked eyes with Alistair.

He must've seen me creeping through the highest nooks of the Chantry. I must've caught his eyes, even though my armor was dulled for this very occasion. Whatever the reason he saw me, I could not take it back. I could not take what his eyes told me away from where it burned into memory.

For his eyes said what his mouth could not muster: I am so sorry.

Tears burst through my eyes once more, and I ducked through the window to escape the emotions.