A:N/ I've decided to make a mini-drabble series with the whole AU I came up with of Cailan, Alistair, and Anora.

I just have so many feelings that won't go away unless I write all this down. I'm a sucker of "what could've been" scenarios.

The finery of Ferelden's grandest decorated hall shone underneath the firelit chandeliers. King Cailan sat upon his throne, smiling politely at his guests as they greeted him. They bowed and complimented, something that he had an automatic response for.

Usually, these cordial settings were ones that he tried to avoid, but today was different.

In the corner of his eye, he looked to his right and he tried to hide a smirk when he noticed his little brother struggle to fix his tunic, discreetly.

Cailan had time until the next guest to show their respects, so he bent down a bit to whisper in his brother's ear, "You know, sitting still is one of the requirements for the Crown Prince."

The teasing lilt in Cailan's voice made Alistair scrunch up his nose in disbelief. Alistair tilted his head up to whisper in his brother's ear, "Ana told me that you used to try and escape through the dining hall when Father and Mother weren't looking." He retorted.

Cailan laughed at that, a bit weakly, due to the name that casually just rolls off of his brother's tongue. It wasn't Alistair's fault that Anora was basically the only family that Alistair was used to seeing.

It was Cailan's fault that he's been avoiding them.

The next guest was making his way to the young Theirin boys, and Cailan had to grit his teeth at the reminder of how he has been failing his brother for some time now.

It was even worse that he had promised himself that he wouldn't be like their father.

Cailan snuck a glance at his brother, who thankfully relaxed in his seat when the guest bowed for him. He watched as Alistair flushed a bit with the praise and the attention, but Cailan proudly sat up a bit when he noticed that Alistair followed protocol by ensuring a small talk of gratitude towards the nobleman.

The guest turned to face Cailan with a surprised and awed look on his face, "I'm impressed by the Crown Prince, Your Majesty. You must be so proud."

Cailan smiled, warmly, at that as he looked down at his brother, who was looking up at him, expectantly.

"More than you know."

The event ended in a flourishing sweep of gratifying accomplishments. Cailan sighed, happily, as he lazily draped himself over the throne. Alistair followed suit, leaving Cailan bit amused.

"So, wasn't this uplifting?" Cailan asked his brother, his eyes shining in mirth. Alistair rolled his eyes, and he got up, tugging on the tunic that was bothering him.

"More like annoying. I don't know how you do it, Brother." Alistair sighed as he began to skip down the steps.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cailan called after him, leaning forward as he placed his arms on the armrests of the throne.

"I'm going to find Ana. She moved my lessons to this evening since you wanted me here." Alistair explained, nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and sighing as he thought of all the work Anora was most likely going to force him to do.

Cailan clenched his fists a bit before he relaxed and nodded, "It's important for you to continue your lessons, Alistair. Especially if you want to lead Ferelden." Her name always forced a reaction out of him, but what surprised him most was the words that came out of his mouth.

It was an automatic response, but it was something that tasted like poison in his mouth. Maker, when did he become their father? Alistair seemed to think that too as he turned to face his brother with a weird look on his face.

"...Sure, Brother, whatever you say." Alistair stated, a bit disgruntled. With a disheartened, poor excuse of a wave, Alistair disappeared, being followed by one of Cailan's men to ensure security.

Cailan watched his brother's retreating back, and his heart grew heavy as the distress of his words replayed in his mind.

Sitting on the very throne of their father and saying the very words his father would say to him to Alistair was something that Cailan thought he wouldn't be doing in a thousand years.

It wasn't that King Maric Theirin was a terrible father. In fact, Cailan can easily remember how warm his father was, how he knew what to do without any hesitation, but that had ended as soon as his mother passed away.

Queen Rowan's death seemed to be the origin of King Maric's downward spiral when it came to his sons and his kingdom.

It was as if the man had awoken from a dream and realized that he had sons to raise and a kingdom to run-something that immediately become foreign to him without his Queen.

"Your father believes that I'm the backbone to every single thing he does." His mother, so sick and pale, whispered as she caressed his head. He had laid on her chest, listening to her weak heartbeat. Alistair was cradled in her other arm, a precious toddler at the time, not knowing that he was about to lose one of his parents. He was peacefully asleep, an innocent boy Cailan wanted to fiercely protect.

"Cailan, promise me that you will take care of your father and brother when...well, you know when." Rowan had laughed a bit at that, slightly sad and bitter.

Cailan didn't say anything at first. He simply played with one of his mother's curls.

"Are you his backbone, Mother?" Cailan asked, finally, his childish mind trying to understand what his mother meant.

He met her gaze then, identical pair of eyes staring at each other. He found a little bit of exhaustion in his mother's eyes, but he could also see the adoration that shone dimly.

"You've heard all the stories, Cailan. I'm sure you will understand when you are older and your knowledge matures. Your father and I have always had a complicated relationship, dating back to when we were just children. Especially when we married and had Ferelden to lead as soon as the war ended. There were times...there were times when I wasn't exactly sure with your father. Yet, as years passed, the Maker blessed our union with you and Alistair, and I...I know your father is a good king; most of all, a good husband and father. You need to be there to prove that to him. No matter what."

Cailan nodded, slowly, and Rowan smiled, encouragingly. She looked down at her side, her trembling hand brushing away the stray hairs on Alistair's sleeping face.

"You must also take care of your brother, darling. For he is the one thing you must always cherish as well. Family above all, always and forever. Do you promise me this?"

Cailan closed his eyes and leaned back into the throne and took a deep breath before releasing it.

He opened his eyes and stared at the Theirin family crest as it hung from the ceiling, embroidered on every banner.

"Was I able to keep your promise, Mother?" Cailan whispered, aloud in the lonely hall.

The words echoed throughout, and Cailan felt just as hollow as the promise he knew he failed to keep.

Cailan was ready to retire for the day, especially when he was getting ready to visit The Pearl with some of his men. It had been exhausting trying to run the kingdom while keeping an eye on his brother's whereabouts and activities. He had a scare when he realized that one of his men had lost Alistair in the woods somewhere. Maker, did he yell at Alistair when they managed to find him.

A knock on his chamber door echoed and he called for the visitor to come in.

He stilled when he noticed who it was. Of course, another problem he had to deal with.

Anora raised her eyebrow at the sight of him. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway that led to his bed.

Cailan knew that look, and he sighed, turning his back to her as he finished up getting ready to leave.

"How may I help you, Anora?" Cailan asked, not bothering to give her his full attention. He had every right to relax now, and if Anora wanted to argue that, then he was ready to ignore her and walk away.

Besides, he was finally getting used to avoiding her.

When he didn't get an immediate answer, he gritted his teeth and turned around to see what she was doing, and he paused when he noticed the slight sadness in her gaze. Grief flooded his heart at the sight of her biting her lip, a tell-tale sign that Anora was being vulnerable right now.

An emotion that Cailan even rarely seen.

Anora hesitantly pushed herself off the wall and started to walk towards him. Once she reached him, she crossed her arms and looked up at him. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and he cursed himself for not leaving sooner.

"You've been avoiding me." Anora stated, in a factual tone. No room for arguments and denials. Anora Mac Tir knew.

Cailan forced himself to roll his eyes and turn back around to pick up his belongings, "And you call me dramatic."

Anora grabbed his arm, forcing him to stand still.

"Cailan, look at me." Anora demanded, annoyed. Cailan closed his eyes for a quick second, trying to muster courage before he obeyed.

"Yes, Anora?" Cailan asked, placing a well-hidden smirk as he playfully tried to dare her to continue with his gaze.

Anora paused at that, but she remained determined as she crossed her arms once more.

"You've been avoiding me since I've returned. Have I done something to offend you?" Anora asked, quietly.

Her eyes tried to search his, and Cailan was trying his very best not to crumble right then and there and hold her. She was so close, so real. It was taking everything within him to pull himself back.

"Of course not. I've just been all over the place-you know, being king and all." Cailan attempted to joke, his smirk perfectly in place.

Anora stared at him, and she bit her lip, a sign that she wasn't buying it. And yet…

"I'm coming with you then." Anora stated, thoughtfully. That wasn't something he expected. He even flinched and Anora smiled at that, just a bit.

"Anora…" Cailan trailed off, uneasily, "You're not serious, are you?"

Anora took confidence with his hesitation and she grasped his arm, with a look of mischief in her eyes. Something so painfully familiar, and something that snapped Cailan out of his trance.

He removed his arm from her grasp, and Anora was taken aback.

"I'm going with my men, Anora. The Pearl isn't a place for noblewomen such as yourself." Cailan stated, blankly.

"Are you really attempting to blatantly lie right now?" Anora asked, indecorously. Her fists clenched and her brows furrowed, Cailan knew he needed to leave fast if he didn't want to face Anora's rage.

"There's no lie, Anora. You moved back here to help with Alistair, then so be it. You can't be out in the night when my brother might need you here. You've said this before. Have you not?" Cailan pointed out, coolly.

Anora's face was angered, and Cailan could tell that she wasn't about to back down anytime soon, yet as soon as he mentioned his brother, Anora looked down, defeated.

"I'll be taking my leave now. Goodnight, Anora." Cailan excused himself, careful not to touch her as he left.

As soon as he reached his door, he heard her whisper something. He gripped his doorknob, hard, before turning it and exiting, making sure the door didn't slam.

He reached his men at the entrance, who greeted him with high spirits and laughter. He forced a smile on his face as he rode with them. When they reached The Pearl, Cailan allowed himself to be brought in by his men. He greeted Sangia, who offered him her best. He let the best whore lead him to a room. He had done all this blankly, the memory of Anora's words before he left repeating in his head.

The scantily dressed woman was about to take his clothes off, but he pushed her hands away, angrily.

"Leave. I wish to be alone." Cailan ordered, rubbing his temples.

"Your Majes-"

"I said, leave!" Cailan repeated, angrily. The woman hurriedly obeyed and closed the door behind her, swiftly.

Cailan leaned forward and rubbed his face, tiredly, letting out a frustrated groan. He got up, angrily, picking up the ale that was served him moments earlier. He took one gulp, but he found it displeasing and threw the rest in the roaring fire. The fire burst into life, and Cailan watched.

"I miss you."

It was just three simple words, something that wouldn't usually make any person think so hard on it and be bothered.

But, it came from Anora.

Anora, the one who prided herself in being controlled and strategic in her ways, was the one who conveyed vulnerability towards him. Something that Cailan knew so rarely nowadays.

Cailan closed his eyes and imagined her standing there, in the middle of his room, nothing out of place except the slight quiver of her bottom lip. He had left her there, alone.

Maker, the spell she had on him brought him to the brink of insanity most of the time.

He took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace and watched the flames dance and he took a deep breath.

"I...don't miss you, Anora."

Coward.