I tried to be quiet. I really did. But, I just couldn't stop myself from falling into pieces. As the Hero of Ferelden, you'd think that I'd have a little more dignity than this.

You'd be wrong though.

I have to admit – my room was quite luxurious. If I wasn't so oblivious to everything around me except the situation at hand, I might have enjoyed it. A four poster bed with silk sheets rested back against the far wall, and there was even a vanity near to it which was made of what looked like mahogany. Indigo curtains hung from huge glass-paned windows on the opposite wall of the bed, so that I woke up to the sun rising just over Denerim's largest hill. You know, things like so. Such comforts were rarely seen nowadays, though the darkspawn were mostly to blame for that. I've never even seen things like these during my short lifetime, let alone own them. Being of elven heritage doesn't really put you high on the social ladder if you know what I mean.

Anyways, all I could notice of the room was my ragged breathing reverberating off of its acoustical walls. Tears hadn't come just yet, but I knew that if I wasn't careful enough, soon, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from screaming. It seemed inevitable to me. In any case, the night was dark and warm – comfortable enough. A cool breeze flitted in and out of the castle, and it felt nice to my sweat stained skin. At least I could appreciate that.

A knock at the door startled me out of my long and dreary thoughts. I didn't answer, and then a voice sounded through the sturdy wood. An all too familiar voice.

"Lyna, I know you're in there. Please open the door. We need to talk."

No! I didn't want to talk. I already made my choice, and now I'll have to live with the consequences… or die with them.

"I will break down this door. Don't make me do that."

And I knew that he would, too. Forcing myself to breathe again, I felt my face settle into a stony mask before shuffling over to the room's wooden entrance. Grabbing ahold of the latch, I tugged the door open, beholding a real life rendition of Adonis behind its massive frame.

Lean, lengthy arms folded across his muscular chest, and his coffee painted eyes glowed with what seemed like blatant betrayal in the night's candlelight. His face was fixed straight like mine, and I couldn't help but feel a sharp pain shoot through my chest. It was awful that after all that we've been through, he and I were diminished to this. To two complete strangers.

Unbelievable.

"Hi," I eventually managed to choke out. Suddenly desperate, I hoped that he hadn't noticed how fragile my voice had just sounded. It made me all too vulnerable to him.

Of course, however, he did. He could sense anything and everything about me. Alistair's face immediately crumpled in anguish, and I knew that he hated to see me like this… hated to hate me.

Clearing his throat, he strode past me and into my quarters, leaving me behind to shut the door for fear of being overhead. This was not going to be for others' ears. When I turned around though, I saw him already staring into my eyes, green against brown. I didn't know what to say to him at all. Like I said, I had already made my choice. Seconds went by in silence, then a minute. After two, the atmosphere finally became unbearable, and I held my breath to stop the aches in my chest. Maybe I'd just pass out from lack of oxygen and die.

Well, I opened my mouth to speak again, but he cut me off.

"How could you?" His voice was low and furious, but full of hurt. Undeniable hurt. I had hurt him. This was all of my fault.

He waited a long time for my answer. I couldn't breathe, let alone talk. When I had gathered myself, I brought my gaze back to his relentless stare.

"You know how."

Alistair took a single step forward, and I noticed several veins sticking out against his hardened skin. "Not good enough." His jaw started to twitch uncontrollably, and I had the abrupt urge to fling myself on to him and cry like a little girl. But, I couldn't. A general doesn't act like that. And I hated it.

"Alistair…"

"No!" he shouted. I nearly flinched back at the volume of his protest. He's never raised his voice to me before. "We make decisions together Lyna. That's what leaders do. Hell, that's what people who love each other do. Do you love me, Lyna? Do you? If you did, you might have considered my feelings before taking absolute control of the situation." He paced in a line up and down near my bed while he ranted on. I hated to see him this upset, but it also angered me that he'd question my feelings for him. How dare he.

But, he wasn't finished.

"Lyna Mahariel, I never wanted to be king. Never. For you to decide that was incredibly wrong and humiliating. What about me? I would have given up everything for you. Do you understand me? Everything! But you've condemned me to a future I've had no say in. And, you've resolved yourself to die. How could you do that to me? Why do you ask this of me? I don't understand this agony!" He threw his hands up in the air. After a moment of nothingness, though, he began again. "I need you, Lyna. And not as my servant. I can't let you do this. I can't let you sacrifice yourself. I have no reason to live without you. Not after everything we've faced together. Please…"

As he talked a large lump had formed in my throat, and so I tried to swallow it down before I spoke up again. "Alistair, there is no way out of this. I can't be your queen… but I will not let you die in my place. As your… subject… it is my duty to keep you safe. Even if that means giving up my life. And as for your future… you will be the greatest king Ferelden has ever known. I know it." When I was finished I suddenly became aware of my lungs gasping for air.

Finally closing the distance before us, he darted to where I stood and took me in his arms, painfully squeezing me against his body. It was an embrace, but all too much felt like a goodbye. "No, Lyna. No." He kissed my hair and breathed hard against my scalp.

I shook my head yes, because I started to gasp so hard that I couldn't do anything else. He only squeezed me tighter.

"Stop it," he whispered.

Finally pulling away from him, I looked up into his eyes and tried to smile for his sake. He reached out and touched the tips of my pointed ears, and I shivered before letting him lean in and kiss my forehead.

"You have to go," I breathed as his lips were on my skin.

I heard him choke out, and he jerked back as if stunned.

"No."

"Please, Alistair… we can't drag this on any longer. Tomorrow, I'll be gone, and you'll be king. We must face it now."

Tears never left his perfectly god-like eyes, though they brimmed with moisture and he looked away towards the floor next to us.

"I'll come back in the morning. I will."

I nodded, though in my head I knew I'd be long gone before he even had the chance. Maybe he did too.

"Okay."

He reached up and touched my face one last time before turning on his heel and nearly running out of the room. When the door closed, my knees buckled and I collapsed to the floor, finally feeling hot tears run down my cheeks.

The tears had come.