All is owned by Bioware - I'm just having some fun with their wonderful story. :)

EDIT: The brown hair I talk about in the one of the paragraphs below is meant to be my main character's, NOT Leliana's. Sorry for any confusion.

Miyani Cousland sat in her private room in the warden compound trying desperately not to lose herself to her own thoughts. Not today, she promised herself. Unfortunately her mind had other plans for her and how this day would unfold. It was her wedding day, but her mind would barely rest on the topic it should – like being happy. There were far too many other possibilities and thoughts to consider to be bound to just one or two!

How convenient for her that the warden compound was on the palace grounds, she thought. Even though the location could have been detrimental, she found that it was the perfect place to sit and think about whatever random thought plagued her mind on any given day. It was the one place that she knew Alistair or any of their companions wouldn't bother her. It was her thinking room for every important thought that came to her. More like every little piece of nonsense that happened to pass between her two ears, she chuckled.

The room was simple enough, yet comfortable. Over the past year she had grown rather fond of simple furnishings – nothing over elaborate or large. Furniture should never be so large that a Qunari could fit with extra room. Alistair's bed in the palace was a great example. She was sure at least three Qunari could fit in that thing. Thankfully the bed in her room was perfect. It was large enough for two to snuggle a little less than comfortably, which was more than okay for her. It had provided plenty of entertainment one cool evening for her and Alistair while they figured out what the strangest position to sleep had been. It turned out that it happened to be with her legs over… and he was… No. There are more important things to think about today, she scolded herself.

There was a large standing mirror on the wall beside her bed. She carefully pulled one of the chairs from her work desk over so that she could further inspect the work that had been done to her that morning. The seamstress had left not a half hour before after insisting to prick her with a few more pins so that the dress would fit perfectly. Much to the woman's dismay, the dress still fit beautifully after the first three times she tried to adjust it. "Everything must be perfect!" she muttered to herself every five minutes. After about the fifth needle, Miyani had finally had enough. She "escorted" the woman from her private space. Escorted is the word she would use, but she imagined the woman would recall being thrown. Thankfully the woman knew that they would be no changing her mind or insulting the future queen, so she left as quickly as she could.

Leliana had been much more forgiving on her long brown hair than the seamstress had been on her sides. After several failed attempts to curl the utterly straight strands that hung down Miyani's back, Leliana had decided it would be easier to throw half of her hair up while letting the rest hang and do whatever it is that lifeless hair such as hers would do. Even given her frustrations, the hair turned out beautifully. Miyani had a large bun on the back of her head which was then lined with the petals of white roses. The rest of her hair was left to hang midway down her back. Miyani smiled to herself. I bet my hair hasn't felt that free in months, she thought after picturing her hair constantly in a large tight bun on the top of her head to keep it from coming loose.

And then there were her flowers – a large circular bouquet of pure white roses. They had been delivered this morning by a young girl. Celia was her name? Not that it mattered, but if she was to be seeing the girl in the palace gardens, she should at least know her name. Now what did she look like? Human I think. Brown hair. Wait… Or was it red? I'm sure it wasn't…

"Miyani!" Fergus called from behind her, nearly causing her to jump out of her seat. He had been standing there for a little while, but she had been so lost in thought she hadn't even noticed his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" She croaked out, still shocked from his "sudden" appearance. He nodded quickly to the open window.

"It's time then?" She asked looking out into the day. By the angle of the sun, she guessed that it was nearing noon. The wedding was to take place shortly after noon. Her wedding. To the king of Ferelden. To Alistair.

"I thought you would like an escort, but…"

"But what?" She asked, examining her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was done exactly as she and Leliana had decided would be best, the flowers on her lap were the same beautiful white roses that Alistair had planted in the Palace gardens. He had planted them because he learned that they were her favorite flowers. They were pure, and untouched by the more graphic colors of the world. Red roses, while still beautiful, reminded her too much of rivers of blood from innocent bystanders from war. The rose could have been dipped in that blood for all she knew. Yellow roses were pretty as well, but yellow had always seemed a sign of weakness in her mind. After a bruise would start healing on her body, it would turn the most horrible yellow color and…

"MIYANI! Snap out of it!"

She started again, this time nearly throwing her bouquet of beautiful white roses on the floor. Luckily for the roses, her reflexes were very good after years of training as a rogue. "I swear, I think far too much…"

"What in the Maker's name is wrong?" Fergus asked impatiently, glancing out the window again.

"Nothing, why?" As she asked, she finally noticed the tears sitting just between her eyelids and her eyes – ever threatening to spill onto her face and down onto her dress. Embarrassed that she had shown any sort of weakness to her brother, her eyes fell down to the roses.

"Mia, are you sure this is what you want? I mean, growing up you never wanted this sort of life. Or have I been wrong about my rebellious little sister all along?"

Miyani glanced up from the flowers that she held every so gently on her lap to look at her brother's reflection in the mirror. He suddenly looked concerned – more concerned than she had seen him since the night Oren was born and the physicians had told him that there had been complications. That Oriana might not survive the birthing. She supposed that, in a way, Fergus risked losing another of his family to some nobleman he either didn't like or didn't know at all: the last of his family. Behind the concerned expression was a hint of determination. She almost smiled. He wasn't going to give up without a fight. She did enjoy a challenge.

"I guess I wasted all those years fighting mother about marrying some nobleman's son, didn't I?" she chuckled lightly, the tears still balancing in her eyes. Maker, why do I feel like losing everything I've ever eaten right now, Miyani groaned internally. I knew this was going to happen. We've been planning for six sodding months now!

"Mia, there is still time. If this Alistair is as caring as everyone claims he is, I'm sure he would understand that you made a mistake. We could go back and rebuild Highever together. You don't have to do this."

Miyani cursed herself as the tears finally fell down her now pale white cheeks. She cries now. Why now of all bloody times? Had she cried when she and her mother found Oriana and Oren in pools of their own blood on the floor? No. Did she cry when she decided that it was best to abandon her parents to their fates to return with Duncan to Ostagar? No. How about when the all the Grey Wardens, including Duncan died? When King Cailan died? When she had to kill innocents in Lothering so that she could continue with her duty? After her first darkspawn nightmares when Alistair had woken her up for screaming? No, no, no, and no. Minutes passed as she stared at the woman in the mirror, tears rolling down her face like river water over a cliff. Images and memories of all the times over the past year when she could have cried, should have cried ran through her mind. Never, not once, had she given into the urge until now – her wedding day. This was supposed to be, arguably, the happiest day of her life. She wasn't even sure why she was crying!

"Please," Fergus begged her, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Come back with me. We can sort this all out. Don't throw your life away when you just got it back!"

"Trust me dear brother. I'm not throwing my life away. Our duty has always come first, and mine is here. I promised the Landsmeet a Cousland queen, and a Cousland they shall have." Dear Maker, she cursed. These tears can stop any time now!

"Did you not tell me just yesterday that you will have an extremely short life now because of this Grey Warden business?"

"Twenty-nine years and counting."

"You have done your duty to Ferelden," Fergus sighed as her left eyebrow rose in warning. He had too often seen that look on her when she was about to argue with him. This time, he knew the argument and would have none of it."Consequences be damned, Miyani! Live the life you want."

She looked at him, shock painting her face as his sudden change in tone. Before he could revel in her expression, she looked down at the flowers again. The life I want, she thought. What a strange concept.

Certainly she had heard it before. Once from her father: "What do you want to do pup? Fight with your brother and I or learn to work needlepoint with your mother? We will love you no matter what you decide." Her daggers were now her identity and the thread and needle had burned in Highever the night she fled. She had never looked back or regretted that decision, but in the end it effected no one but herself. Had she taken up the needle, she would have died that night in Highever and Alistair would have been left alone in Ostagar. Or would Duncan have seen something in her anyway and saved her. Would Duncan have even been there?

Slowly Miyani's mind drifted down a path of endless choices and outcomes – some good, some not so. But what do I want now, she thought. I've spent so long worrying about what others wanted for me in my chosen path or what I needed to do because of duty. Is this what I want? Alistair told me that we would most likely be barren. The chances of us conceiving a child for the throne would be slim at best. I've never really wanted children, I don't think. I guess that wouldn't be so bad – living the rest of my days in the palace with him. But would it be enough? Would there still be time or reasons for my trusty daggers to make themselves known? Or will I have to dig up the needlepoint that I tossed aside so many years ago?

But what if I left? Alistair would have to marry another. Not me. Could I live with that? What if he and his new bride should fail to produce an heir and the Theirin line falls? If I betray him now, will the Landsmeet put Fergus on the throne as it should be? Or will they only see my betrayal. Would Alistair even let me leave if I asked it of him? Maybe he could marry Anora and they could produce an heir… Just then she remembered the notes they had found in Cailan's chest in Ostagar. Anora might be barren anyway. Maybe that wasn't such a grand idea. Would Anora even want to marry him after he cut off her father's head? Would I? Probably not. I'd be more likely to cut his off in return, she mused. Best to let Anora be killed as planned. Now what if…?

As the scenarios and outcomes flooded her mind, two questions kept popping to the surface: Could I be happier elsewhere if there were no consequences? And most importantly, would I want to be…

As the last tear fell from her eyes, she looked up at her brother once more. "Ferg, remember all those stories mother used to read to us? The ones about the beautiful princess who always married the man of her dreams and lived on in bliss for the rest of her days?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded. "How could I forget? You would listen to them intently until mother finished. Then you would berate her for how unrealistic they were and how they couldn't possibly ever come true."

"I was wrong," she whispered almost inaudibly while wiping the remaining tears from her face. Hopefully the tear stains would dry on her dress before…

"I'm sorry?" Fergus stared at her. "I must be hearing things, but did you say…?"

"I was bloody wrong, Fergus!" She repeated louder, a slight tinge of anger in her tone. Almost instantly, she had begun to regret the tone she used with her brother – her best friend. He could not understand the anger behind her now. So many had tried to deter her from marry Alistair. He was her first love and she wanted him to be her last. Eamon, Teagan, Riordan, Howe, Loghain, Anora and so many others had disapproved one way or the other. Whether they didn't want her, didn't want him or didn't want the combination, the choice was not theirs to make. It was hers, and Alistair's.

They had promised each other that sacred night in camp when they first made love that they would do anything to stay together until the end. It didn't matter who or what got in their way, they would over come it. Their lives had truly begun at their meeting, and they planned to die together. Fergus wouldn't stop fate – she wouldn't let him.

"Fergus," Miyani began again, a softer tone in her voice. "I…" love Alistair, she finished in her head. She couldn't say it. Maker, why can't I say it? He needs to hear the reason I won't leave with him. He needs to know!

"Yes?"

She sighed and began again. "I know I said all those things to mother over the years about perfect situations and ideal outcomes. That nothing in reality is ever so black and white."

Fergus smiled briefly. "And now you're a Grey Warden. Fitting."

Fitting, indeed. If you only knew dear brother how true that title is. We are the grey in between the black evil of the darkspawn and the purest white of humanity. No battle is one-sided and to be the best, you must take from your enemies and use it against them while maintaining what makes you…you. Maker's breath, now I'm mumbling like Alistair, she thought. "I'm sorry, Ferg…" Miyani blushed after he had tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. "You know how my mind wanders and I end up thinking way too much."

"Just talk, brat."

"This is. Black and white, I mean." Oh, sod it. "I love Alistair," she blurted out. "I love him Fergus. More than I ever thought possible."

"My little sister? In love? I must be dreaming!"

"I admit it. It used to disgust me to watch you and Oriana cuddling up under a tree in the gardens before you had Oren. I wanted to wretch every time mother and father kissed in the dining room after they woke in the mornings. When Dairren tried to kiss me at mother's last salon, I nearly decked him. Remember?"

Fergus couldn't help but laugh as he remembered a young Dairren cowering behind Eleanor's back from Miyani. It took all Fergus had to drag her back to her room after he had been summoned. "Of course I remember. Poor Dairren's face was redder than his hair!"

Miyani joined in her brother's laughter. "I never saw a man run so fast to hide behind a woman. Disgraceful!"

"So what has changed, Sis?" Fergus asked as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Her hand fell onto his as she spoke. "Me, I guess. Alistair never once looked at me like a noble or treated me differently because of it. He only ever saw me when everyone else saw Lady Miyani Cousland." Then it occurred to her why she had cried. It was release. Sweet, sweet release. All this time she had done what everyone else wanted her to do – what she needed to do. Today, she was doing something for herself.

"But that is who you are, like it or not."

"I know, but did any of my other suitors love me because of who I am? Or did they love me because of who I was born? You were lucky to find Oriana. She loved you for you, not because you were the future Teyrn of Highever."

"And this Alistair… He loves you because of who you are and not your birth? Are you sure he's not playing you because you are nobility?"

A smile slowly crept across Miyani's face. Fergus always did try to protect her, even if she was better equipped to protect herself most of the time. "I think he would have married me if I was a commoner. Birth means nothing to him. He sees the good in people… He saw the good in me."

"Then what's with all this crying nonsense?" Fergus grinned before kissing her on the nearest cheek.

Miyani thought back briefly on all that has happened since that horrific night in Highever. If one little detail had been different after all this time, things might turned out all wrong. She could have died, Alistair could have died, Morrigan might not have ever offered that wonderful ritual. Her mind travelled on and on down roads of endless possibilities before she cut it off. No more.

"I told you earlier." In the back of her mind she could hear her mother telling her that happy endings do happen and that if she gave them a chance, she might have her own. Just then she smiled and stood to leave for her wedding. Her impossible and utterly real happy ending. "I think too much."