A/N: I wanted to try something different to start into my foray of DA:O fics. I have a multi-chaptered fic coming soon, but this little thing was rattling around in my brain, amongst a few others…

What if…Alistair had never been able to reconcile his love for Elissa with his duty as the new king? And what if in the end, she moved on with someone else? A (slightly) longer one shot in Alistair's POV.

oooOooo

Too Late

After the Landsmeet…

He walked into the large sitting room on the east side of Arl Eamon's estate. They all looked up as he pushed the two large doors open.

But it was she whom Alistair could feel watching him. It was she who got to her feet gracefully, taking a step forward, and then stopping, a look of concern crossing her features.

Alistair could not look at her.

Maker, help me.

"Elissa, we need to talk," he said, his own voice sounding weak in his mind.

Because I AM weak! She chose me as the new king of Ferelden, nearly forced me on the throne, believes in me in ways that I can't even understand, and here I am, too weak, too much of a coward to even speak the truth to her, let alone lead a whole country!

His eyes moved to the others in the room. Leliana and Zevran sat by the huge fire, and Wynne was sitting nearby at the table, a look of concern on her weathered face. Morrigan was nowhere to be seen.

He hesitated, and then motioned towards the door, finally looking Elissa in the eyes. Eyes of such vivid blue, Alistair had long been convinced that even Andraste herself would be envious.

To gaze into such impossible beauty was too much for him, and he tore his own eyes away from her.

"Please," he managed, stepping aside so that she could leave the room, he following close behind. He realized he was following her still, as he had done from the first day at Ostagar, even though he was now the king of Ferelden.

How can I do this without her? Can I even hope to be the man she thinks I am?

Once alone, she turned expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

"I'm not going to question why you made me king," he told her, forcing himself to stand up straight, as if that would give him the courage to face her now. "I think I'm even starting to come around to the idea…anyhow…it could be an interesting future for me."

The words were lies, but he spoke them anyhow, wondering if she would believe him. He took a breath just as she spoke.

"Alistair, I know…I know you didn't want this."

He thought her voice too sweet…to innocent after everything they had gone through, both on the battlefield, and in knowing each other. He didn't want to hear voice, for he knew it would be etched indelibly on his mind, and he would not free himself from it, but somehow she had an uncanny way of getting through all his defenses, and he could hear her even as he tried not to.

"But Ferelden has been waiting for you! It is YOU who is the rightful ruler now, not Anora, and certainly not anyone else. It is you. It is in your blood, and you have inherited the title that anyone else would be taking by association or by marriage. Nothing else, no other choice felt right to me," she finished, her words dying in the room. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Words spoken from the bottom of her heart, ridden with emotion that touched him in places where only she existed.

He hesitated, his emotions swaying from anger to frustration, to hopelessness.

"I understand," he replied softly. He finally allowed himself to look at her. "I told you this is not about me becoming king," he restated. "It's about you and me."

Her eyes lit up, as if something behind them had burst into light. It was the way she always looked at him, he realized. She trusted him, loved him.

Maker, I implore you!

He felt like he was being slowly ripped in two.

"Now that I'm king…there are things…expected of me," he mumbled, feeling as if his stomach had turned to lead, and it made his legs want to crumble under the weight.

Such blue eyes! Clear and confident of the future she wanted.

"You know I am on your side, no matter the expectations," she reminded. "I told you long ago that we would stay together, come what may…remember?"

Remember?

Her words taunted him, reminding him of things he didn't want to think about, nights in midsummer where the heat of the nights were not even comparable to the humid caress of her mouth and the fire she created pressed so close to him.

He violently pushed those memories away, for they were now useless.

"I remember."

The whisper came unbidden, falling from his lips before he could even stop it. She reached to touch him, perhaps a reassurance, perhaps something more, but Alistair remained stiff, feigning an indifference that he could never feel.

It was then that her smile faltered slightly, as if a small fissure had appeared on her hopeful countenance.

"There is…the matter of us being Grey Wardens," he managed to say. "It's not just a matter of obligation, it…it is a matter of blood."

Her eyes widened.

"Alistair, I don't…"

He interrupted her by an uncharacteristic swipe of his hand.

"You know, I've told you, that we Grey Wardens do not normally live to grow old, right?" he questioned, his tone sharp, just a little too sharp and too frantic. He was growing nervous as the fissure of uncertainty on her face became a crack.

"Yes, you told me, but…what…does this have to do with us?" she asked him.

Her voice, was as his. Two sides of what could have been a mirror of emotion.

"As king…I'll be required to have a child. Even more so because my death is assured," he began, wishing that the words didn't hurt so. "That is…assuming that someone like me, someone with the taint can even have a child, or should," he managed.

She was now silent, and he saw in her eyes the reality of what he was now telling her. The beautiful pink blush was gone from her cheeks now and she spoke no more. She only stared in disbelief.

Alistair summoned what he could from within him to finally end things.

"I'll need to find a wife. Someone who can give me an heir and raise it after I am gone. It is not something I relish, Elissa, but I cannot escape what this means. For me and for you."

When Alistair found the courage to glance at her, he was broken hearted at what he had done.

Never in all the time he had known Elissa Cousland, had he ever imagined hurting her, and yet, in the end…it was too late. Too late to take things back, too late to ever turn back.

Those blue eyes now sparkled with her unshed tears, her tiny jaw clenched tightly.

"Do you love me?"

Helpless words, spoken such that he could barely hear her.

"Does it matter?" came his reply.

Her hand came up. The smack stung – the physical pain was better however, then the terrible feeling of being torn apart emotionally. He reeled back.

"I never wanted this! It is you who wanted this!"

"You blame me for your cowardice?" she roared, and he saw the look on her face, the one he had seen so often on the battlefield. It said she was determined beyond her own knowledge, it spoke of strength and honor and determination that he had never possessed.

Correction. He would never possess. His face burned where she had slapped him, and he attacked back with all the pain he felt. All the frustration and the hopelessness.

"I blame you for pushing on me what I never wanted!" he roared back, his eyes flashing. "How could you not know this is how it would turn out?" he asked brokenly, his head shaking.

The tears had fallen, running in rivulets down her beautiful face.

"How was I to know that you never really loved me?"

The words struck him hard, but did not render him speechless. He hung his head.

"If only you knew this has nothing to do with love and everything to do with what my duty is now," he begged.

Elissa stood up straight.

"I only one thing. I do not care about your duty, and one day, your majesty, I will not care about you, either."

Alistair reached out helplessly.

"Elissa."

One word, one all encompassing emotion. How could he go on without her? How could he even think he could?

But she was gone, leaving him alone.

oooOOooo

One year later…

A clap of thunder roared across the grey sky.

He stared out at the group in the distance, watching the flash of black, the sparkling of white against gray stormy skies, the smiles, the laughter, and the words.

The thunder caused them all to laugh.

The words! Oh Maker, the words! Vows spoken between two people, vows that bound them forever.

Where had the courage to show his face that day come from? He did not know. He had not believed he'd have the strength to come.

But he had. He was there. A small part of him was dying just as two souls were being joined as one.

It hurts knowing I have lost her. It hurts not only because I was a stupid, cowardly bastard, but also because I lost her to him. To the man who was supposed to have been my friend. Who supposedly knew how I have always felt for her.

She looked up into the other man's face with a love Alistair had rejected, and his saddened heart broke.

She used to give me looks like that. She used to give me those smiles; she used to laugh with me. She used to love me and I came to realize my mistake too late. Morrigan was always right. I am a fool. I always have been.

Too little, too late.

The wind blew her white and silver dress around and he laughed as they stood in front of their family and friends, holding hands.

Too late to tell her how Alistair's heart ached to see her with him now. Knowing he had failed her and all the plans they had made. And that a man like the Antivan Crow could give her the love that he himself had denied her.

It was time to pay for his choices.

Reap the consequences of my actions. I have to watch her give another man her smile, her love, her whole life. Maker, help me! Elissa, how I love you!

It was over for Alistair. He wasn't going to ever be complete…ever. It didn't matter that Ferelden was thriving. That, in spite of his own doubts, Elissa had been right. He was a good king. It didn't matter that his court, and his closest friends, even Arl Eamon wanted to help him move on.

But he couldn't. If it wasn't her, it would be no one. He had given her up for a future for Ferelden. Given her up so that he could have an heir.

What good had it gotten him?

There was a loud crashing of thunder, and muffled laughter from the crowd.

He stood there, by the tree a few hundred feet from the ceremony, taking it all in. Feeling the inside of his soul falling apart at the sight of the vows. Feeling the tears behind his eyes as he saw the flashing of the gold bands they now held.

In spite of the pending storm, their looks were solemn, loving, and she was as always, amazingly beautiful.

Alistair could look no more and turned from the wedding ceremony uniting Cousland and Arainai.

The rain began to fall in a mist, along with his tears. He had to leave, but before he did, he wanted one last look at her. He turned, and it was Zevran who met Alistair's eyes, not her.

She was too enamored with her new husband to even notice Alistair.

Zevran looked at Alistair then. There was in his hazel eyes a look of pity and triumph.

For it was he who had won in the end.

Take care of her Zevran Arainai. Love her like I never could. It is only what she deserves. But break her heart, and you will have hell to pay.