Mage, Commoner, Elf

A/N: I hope y'all enjoy my first little adventure into writing Dragon Age fan fiction! This story will be in three parts and is my head-cannon for a happy ending for Surana x Alistair - though the first two parts are quite full of angst! I hope you enjoy!

Finally, the Landsmeet was over. The messy meeting, which likely lasted less than an hour, felt like an eternity. It had gone poorly as Liliwren had feared. Anora had betrayed them, chaotic fighting erupted, ending with a duel. Teryn Loghain had perished by the hand of the new king, Alistair.

She had grown to love Alistair him more than she ever felt possible. She felt horrible for having to put him in a position he absolutely dreaded having to be in; being king wasn't what he wanted, but they had little choice.

After Niall's death in the Circle Tower, Liliwren couldn't imagine loving another. But Alistair's quirky attitude and light-hearted jokes drew her out of her depression and, eventually, into his arms. She loved him now more than she ever did Niall, though to admit that to herself would still feel like a betrayal, even though her first love told her to move on when they met as he was dying in the Fade.

Alistair and Liliwren had been through so much together and been there for each other. They discovered the things they had in common, and taught each other about those which they didn't. Liliwren grew fond of every inch of Alistair, from the crow's feet around his caramel eyes, to his soft sandy hair, to his "lamppost," and everything in between. He had memorized the intricacies of her pale face, pointed ears, and entire petite and toned body. Their love for each other was deep and evident to those around them, even if they were standing across the room from each other.

But now, as they returned to Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim after the Landsmeet, Alistair's voice and typical wit did not accompany their trip. Wynne, Leliana, Zevran and the Oghren went on and on joking optimistically about what would happen after the Blight had been ended, punctuated by Morrigan and Sten's reminders about how that certainly had not happened yet. But Liliwren and Alistair walked in complete silence. The new king didn't even let out a chuckle or crack a smile.

After taking some time to clean up, Liliwren donned her mage's robes and headed to the room where Alistair was staying; his silence on their way back worried her. Alistair sat in a chair, facing the window, wearing noble's clothing, not his usual silverite armor. Liliwren's light footsteps created a soft sound on the stone flooring, which must have caught Alistair's attention. Before Liliwren spoke, he immediately stood and turned towards Liliwren.

"We need to talk."

Pain wrenched in her gut. An empty feeling encompassed Liliwren as Alistair approached, his tone more serious and sullen than it has ever been. Before she could speak he continued, his shoulders square and tense as he kept his distance from her.

"As king, there are certain…responsibilities I'll have to attend to. Choosing a queen. Producing an heir…"

Alistair's voice waivered at first, but evened out and flatly stated the reasons which led up to his final point.

"I can't be with you anymore, Liliwren. If I don't end this now, I fear I'll never be able to. I'm sorry." His head dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumped forward, hands balled into fists.

"I understand…" Liliwren managed to squeak out. Her tone feigned her usual grace; she was successful in hiding how much this tore her apart. "If you'll excuse me," she stated.

Liliwren's bowed her head and dipped her body into a curtsy. Alistair caught the end of the formal gesture, his face twisting with heartache. Without looking him in the eye, Liliwren pivoted and glided elegantly to her room.

Sten was waiting inside. He had taken to guarding her while they were in Eamon's estate, and though Liliwren felt it unnecessary, she appreciated the gesture. She mustered the rest of her control and with an even and unrevealing voice, asked Sten to call Wynne to her quarters and excuse himself until Wynne recalled him.

Liliwren plopped on to the bed, her arms falling limply at her sides. Her entire body froze as she stared down, careful that her gaze was not in view of anyone coming in or passing by the door. It squeaked open and closed again quickly, and the light footsteps and swooshing of enchanter's robes approached her.

"My poor dear," Wynne's soft, reassuring voice met Liliwren's ears as the senior enchanter sat next to the younger mage. All the sadness and anger built up in the elf released as she sobbed in her mentor's arms.

"Your timing was idiotic." Sten's low, flat tone snapped Alistair from his thoughts. "Your actions were to be expected, honorable to most, but when you chose to do them was incorrect and callow."

Alistair furrowed his brow as Sten walked away immediately after making his point. Perhaps the qunari had a point. Alistair had just single-handedly destroyed the morale of their leader in battle.

He stood, unsure of what he could do about it, and began to pace and think. Debate apologizing. Ask her to start over. Explain he shouldn't have ended things so quickly. But she already knew his future intentions and nothing could change that now.

His paces and strides grew longer and further into the hall, closer to Liliwren's door. Each time he moved in that direction, he took a step closer to her room and turned around, changing his mind yet again.

The walls may have been stone and thick, but the doors were wooden and thin. With his next step towards the door, a sharp, exasperated breath shattered the silence. Alistair stopped inches from the door and listened, only for a moment.

Wynne's muffled voice accompanied the labored breathing, "But Liliwren…"

"But what, Wynne?!" A voice familiar in timbre but not tone erupted on the other side of the door. Desperation and despair colored the voice of Alistair's love. "I was a fool to think he could love me. A mage? Commoner? Elf?!"

Alistair backed away from the door, able to hear no more.