Post year of the last Arch Demon being defeated, the Blight eliminated, and Alistair's coronation. The current week would be the anniversary of these events, whilst people of Ferelden are in the process preparing to celebrate, the King himself has been in form of mourning; despite his advisor's best attempts they are unable to figure out what could cause such sadness within their king, though in the truth of the matter, it's quite easy to recognize the symptoms he's suffering from. Alistair slowly prepared his items, haphazardly glancing up at the mockingly bright morning – he was in the process of travelling to the Castle of the Cousland's, where Fergus had been dubbed teryn shortly after the Blight.

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time…

Alistair caught a glimpse of the trees; with autumn approaching, the harvest season, the numerous leaves on the trees were remarkably gorgeous – the King allowed himself a short chuckle, remembering another particularly gorgeous thing. As he continued down the cobblestone path he mulled over the past year, he was a loyal and just king; no one had even opposed to his rule after the Landmeet…Most likely due to the fact he'd helped save the land from the Arch Demon. Life in Ferelden was good, things continuing slowly along as they normally did; though there were those who still mourned those who'd been last in the Final battle.

And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her skies…

The sun was reflected off of the golden-plait armor Alistair wore, the crest of Royalty pressed into it – normally he didn't wear the Royal armor, given the fact it was actually a bother to wear most of the time…Which is why he saved it for special occasions; which was why he was wearing it. His gaze traveled upwards, feeling the heat and humidity radiate through the air. The King felt his horse back up spontaneously, Alistair chuckling as the perpetually excited war hound ran towards the seed – barking furiously as it recognized the King…The Mabari's old companion. Fergus followed behind the Mabari, a smile spreading across his face as a greeting to the king.

I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

"And to what do I owe this royal pleasure, your majesty?" Fergus grinned broadly, taking the kings arm and pulling him into a hug; the greeting was obviously more sarcastic than formal, trying to give the benefit of humor for Alistair's sake.

"Oh, you know," Alistair said, smiling – there was nothing cheerful about the smile, simply a courtesy he painted on for Fergus, pain leaking out through the cracks. The teryn could have sworn there was a tear glinting in the corner of Alistair's eye…But as they had grown to be friends, he would never point out the vulnerability the King was presenting.

"Join me for lunch, first?" Fergus asked, arching one of his eyebrows gently. Alistair nodded briefly, following behind his friend towards Cousland Castle.

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time…

The silence was lengthy, tension heavy in the atmosphere as the two dined in silence. Fergus himself had witnessed the grief that he imagined Alistair was going through; the anniversary of his wife and son's death hadn't been but a few months ago…He didn't care to think about it much, and he could really relate to what the King was going through.

"Would you like to see her grave?" Fergus inquired, his eyes carefully looking into Alistair's.

For fear that he would break out into a series of large and racking sobs Alistair merely nodded; the true grimness finally settling into the pit of his stomach, beginning to gnaw at it.

And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial…

"Why won't she wake up?" Cried the templar, clutching the limp body of his fellow Grey warden, rocking back and forth; tears pouring down his face in a series of barrages. Wynne, Zevran, and Lelianna stared at him, exchanging glances amongst each other – no one knew how to declare her death, pangs of empathy stinging at the group. She felt so tiny and cold in his tight embrace, not like the nights they'd spent in her tent, warm and strong; a smile spread across her tanned face. No, she was nothing like that now, pale, icy, limp. In the single moment where one of the Grey Wardens would have to die the Warrior gave her life – Alistair had intended to deliver the final strike, but at the crucial second she'd thrown herself into the Arch demon; permeating the creature's thick skull with her steel blade…She's pushed him away, therefore sacrificing herself to insure that Ferelden kept its rightful king. You stupid, stupid woman, Was the thought that raced through Alistair's mind, how could all this feel so incredibly painful?

I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

I was so stubborn…None of this would have happened if I'd slept with Morrigan… Alistair bowed his head, the all too familiar pain stinging at his heart again, he didn't know what was worse – the moment she'd gone cold in his embrace, or the unbearable realization that she was truly dead, her still-gorgeous, but now pale, face burning away; the flames consuming her, giving new heat to corpse. The King hadn't been able to even think about worms and maggots eating away at her flesh, making his decision to cremate her. Soon after the small ceremony they would return her ashes to the soil, so that she would be associated with giving new life to Ferelden; the land she'd sacrificed herself for.

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

Alistair's gaze burned into the marble tombstone, his head bowed and little wisps of hair fluttering about his eyes…Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, gaze turned down towards the earth…Maker's breath, the pain hadn't dulled since the very first moment he'd lost her.

Fergus murmured something, being gracious enough to leave the small clearing where his younger sister's ash had been buried, not wanting to make the King feel uncomfortable during his vulnerability. The clearing was specifically requested by Alistair, having had servants plant numerous flowers planted, thinking she deserved a place as beautiful as her to spend the rest of her eternal slumber. There was something odd though, he never used the particular word "dead" when speaking of her, instead he always referred to her as being asleep, maybe he'd never truly accepted the fact she would never wake up.

Alistair was kneeling before the headstone, feeling guilt inside his stomach – if he'd just slept with the witch they'd have been together, they had gotten engaged prior to the Final Battle, though they realized one of them would be dying…He just hadn't thought it would be her.

Gently, a tender embrace enveloped Alistair…The ever familiar feeling of contentment rising over him, slowly a gentle smile crept across his face as a soft cheek pressed against his, two pink lips kissing his temple. He caught a haphazard glimpse of the Grey Warden, little wisps of blonde hair in her face as a warm smile took up most of her expression.

It was moments like this he treasured, the briefest gifts from the Maker; where her tenderness was relived, Maker, was she ever gorgeous. Slowly she pulled away from Alistair, kneeling beside him, tilting her head as her eyes transfixed themselves on her own headstone.

"I missed you," Alistair said, placing a hand over her tinier, slender one. The smile tugged at the corners of her mouth again and she turned towards him, leaning in towards him and pressing her lips to him, one of the soft kisses that made his day.

Despite the incredible happiness he knew that the perpetual pain would soon return, she never stayed for long, he had to take advantage of every tiny moment he was gifted. Whether or not it was real, he would never argue with it – how could he?

"I love you," She whispered, pressing her mouth to his ear and whispering the three syllables softly, the sound of her voice reverberating throughout his ear, sending a shiver running up his spine. Slowly she pulled away, pressing a finger to his lips as he attempted to respond – smiling, closing her eyes, and nodding.

Tears started to gather in Alistair's eyes again, and he pulled her tiny body against him and held her as tight as he could, refusing to let her leave again…Though he knew she would, despite his best attempts to cling to this beautiful illusion, perhaps it wasn't a gift and he was insane…But if he happened to suffer from insanity he enjoyed it, every single second of it – in fact.

"Goodbye, Alistair." She pulled away, floating slowly away from her – it was odd, the way she always departed from him; floating slightly off the ground, kneeling down. Her soft palms cupped either side of his cheeks, pressing her forehead against his as she gave him one last kiss, pushing every ounce of love she had for him into that kiss.

He watched, the tears finally breaking through his mental barrier and the familiar warm wetness of them meeting his cheeks. She would return to him again, as she always did, on even the most unsuspecting of nights – she would never truly leave him, no, it was her love that kept her alive, and his love for her that gave her the ability to return.

Alistair placed his battle scarred hands against the cold stone, a sad sigh passing through his partially parted lip; trying to hold back the remaining armies of tears that stabbed against the barricade he'd built to hold them back. That had been one the most real appearances…Maybe…One day…She would come, and be real, and never leave him again…Wistful thinking, Alistair thought bitterly.

Fergus watched from just outside the clearing, so the rumors had been true – the King was seeming less sane as the days progressed, health slowly dissipating as the grief that lingered in the very depths of his core seemed to spread throughout his core…A cancerous disease slowly consuming his entire being, and as the citizens of Ferelden discussed, he would suffer a death caused by something as simple as a broken heart; though there was never anything simple about a heart being broken. Alistair had just been acting as if someone else was there with him, murmuring things and reaching for mysterious nothings. It was almost enough to bring tears to the Cousland's eyes, a desperate act to bring her back, and Alistair had succeeded…At the cost of what, though? His sanity, obviously, which would probably be followed with his life.

A serious payment for a mere illusion, Fergus thought to himself, running a hand through his raven hair as he turned away from the scene…Drifting back towards the castle, to await Alistair's returned – after he finished grieving.

I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...

End.

----

Yes, I pretty much redid everything. I actually wanted it to be sad, the original was a HAPPY ending because I'm a pansy and have issues with making sad endings – but hey, I'm a chick, a'ight? Besides that, I give my condolences to Alistair on this one; he is meh favorite character and I lurrbbb him. I know I didn't give a name to the lady Cousland in the story, but I figured it was unneeded – perhaps not the most accurate, I didn't get the "Ultimate Sacrifice" ending. The song is by Damien Rice – originally featured in 'Closer', a very good movie. Lyrics slightly edited, but not much so it's not an issue :). Like I said, I redid the entire thing (made it better), added description, changed the ending to somewhat of a tragedy, review if you love me :D! Well, okay, just review please :)!! Hope you enjoyed it!!