As always, I don't own Dragon Age.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chancellor Amell was by all accounts a sensible person. She navigated the court sometimes better than the King. Knew when to keep quiet and when to speak her mind. Being the Hero of Fereleden helped as well, because no one in or outside the court with half a brain would purposely antagonize the woman who impaled the Archdemon with a sword despite being a Mage. Lady Laurel in contrast appeared that she did not possessed half a brain.

Lady Laurel was one of the very single and very available ladies that roamed the court recently, by invitation of Alr Eamon. His plan was that one of the noble ladies would catch the King's eye, and sired an heir. Half of Denerim knew it was a foolish plan, King Alistair had eyes only for Chancellor Amell, in addition the feeling was mutual. The Chancellor didn't objected openly to Eamon's plan since she knew that in fact, the King did needed a heir.

Lady Laurel started like many of them, false flattery and shameless flirting. She was pretty, but as distinct as you could get from the Hero of Ferelden. Lady Laurel had very pale skin, which it appeared to glow under certain light, her blue eyes were piercing, and her face was symmetrical and angular, in contrast to the Hero's rounded face. Moreover she was a blonde with her long hair usually left down flowing in her back. Another difference to Amell's permanent tight bun. And while the Hero was reserved when talking, there were few things in Ferelden that could stop Lady Laurel to give her opinion.

However, to her disdain, the King was completely oblivious to the flirting part, or if he wasn't he hid it very well. Things however went to her favor when six months after the coronation Chancellor, or rather, Arlessa Amell was called to Amaranthine. This Grey Warden Business kept her away from Denerim for months at the time, allowing her to maneuver the court and neutralize several potential rivals by exposing scandals or even inventing new ones.

What it didn't stop, was the King's frequent visits to Amaranthine for 'Crown Business in regards of Sovereign Territory given to an international military organization'. The title of such quests did not fooled anyone, everybody knew who shared the King's bed. And with that strange arrangement the years began to roll on, thinning Lady Laurel's patience.

Thing came to a breaking point on the Anniversary Ball. It was a celebration day as it was the day the Archdemon was killed and the Blight ended. Everyone who was someone during the Blight was there. Veterans, human, elves, and dwarfs were invited. The Hero arrived fashionably late, having to attend business both in Amaranthine and with the Wardens. She arrived in full armor, and travel appearance, just in time for the King's speech, too much for his relief. After the speech and the mandatory minutes of silence in remembrance of the fallen, Chancellor Amell disappeared to get into some more appropriate clothing. It was then when Lady Laurel materialized by the King's side, like a viper ready to strike.

"Oh your majesty, such a splendid Ball! Did you organized it all by yourself?" she said smiling widely taking the King's arm. More than one noble look poisonously at her.

"Oh no no, the gratitude toward this ball should go to Chancellor Amell, it was her idea and she set the protocol for it herself" The king chuckled at the memory of him suggesting they would serve stew and Amell's horrified face when she reminded him about the stews in camp.

"I see, yet she got here a bit…late"

"That she did" he said frowning for a moment, it wasn't like Amell to get this late, he would ask her once they were alone.

"Oh your majesty, please don't be too harsh on her" said Lady Laurel with fake pleading, completely misreading the King's expression.

"What? Oh no no, I was actually worried, she usually gets here days in advance something must have happened if she arrived until now"

"You and her are very close, your Majesty" she said with a soft and practiced voice.

"That sort of things happen when you travel together and defeat a couple of Dragons together, makes for a great bonding experience" he said reminiscing about their times on the road, ah good times…

"A tad improper, won't you think?" she asked just like a dagger, precise, quick and merciless.

"How so Lady Laurel?"

"She is a mage, not only that but also a commoner" the way she said commoner gave Alistair all the information he needed, Lady Laurel was for all intents and purposes, not a nice person. He already knew as much from her years at court, but for her being so opens was rubbing him in the wrong way.

"Mages are people, just like you and I, I've seen all kinds of people and generalizing is a dangerous route to take" he said with an even temper, after all eyes were still watching.

"She is brutish and uncivilized" she scoffed thinking about her dishelved appearance in armor from some minutes ago.

"She is one of the more refined ladies in all of Thedas, not to mention one of the smartest and kindest, she is the Hero for a reason…" he could go on and on about everything good about Amell. He subconsciously spawned a smile enraging Lady Laurel to her short breaking point.

"Well this Hero" And she practically scoffed the word "Can't even give you children!"

The room suddenly turned very quiet.

There it was, the Bronto in the room, the reason Eamon insisted on a court full of young noble ladies. Years together and neither the King nor the Hero had any children. And while it would probably faint a couple of nobles, a bastard heir is better than no heir. The actual King himself was proof of that.

The timing for such outburst seemed almost planned. Because at the moment Lady Laurel said such angry declaration the conversations had taken a pause, allowing it to be heard in most of the ballroom. Everyone stopped and looked directly at her and the King, who had a shocked expression on his face. Of all the things he expected of this ball, such accusation was not even on the list.

Then everyone felt it, the electricity in the air, and the veterans knew, they just knew, because the all unanimously turned to the main door to see Chancellor Amell with her face paralyzed in a neutral but hard expression, worth noting however that if you looked really close you could see one of her fists clenched while the other one twitched as small static sparks came from her fingertips.

People didn't know what to expect, some nobles almost wished for her to smite Lady Laurel in her exact spot. Chancellor Amell walked directly at them, people parting from her path. She indeed was a dangerous woman and not even the proudest nobles wanted to test their own diplomatic immunity. The King tried to compose his face.

"Chancellor" he said with a neutral voice

"Your Majesty" she bowed deeply

All blood was drained from Lady Laurel's face and there was genuine fear for her life. She let go the King's arm as if it was poison, taking a step back. Never in her coddled life had she contemplated her own mortality as much as when Chancellor Amell looked at her directly on the eye. She made no mistake, years in court had taught her a lot about reading a person, and Chancellor Amell had pure and undiluted hate in her gaze.

She then looked at the king and talked with a soft voice. The rest of the guests (and the guards) let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Lady Laurel seems very tired your majesty, won't you agree that she needs to return to her chambers?"

"Indeed Chancellor" in one swift movement a guard and a servant ware by the King's side. "Please escort Lady Laurel to her chambers, she will need her rest for her travel tomorrow"

"Travel?"

"Indeed" Said the Chancellor "Don't you recall your letter? You were feeling so homesick lately that you needed to return home as soon as possible."

Lady Laurel knew what this meant, exile from court. However she was being allowed to leave with some scraps of dignity. Perhaps Lady Laurel did find the half of her brain that was missing.

"I…of course Lady Amell, I thank you for reminding me so accurately" Amell gave her a very small smile as she departed.

The rest of the ball went on without any trouble as night turned into dawn. Nobles retired relatively early, dwarfs were as often the las ones to leave.

"Whenever you two are in Orzamar, be sure to visit the Merchant Quarter, we can have a good time, and if you are feeling adventurous we can even arrange for you to get a swing at some darkspawn"

"A tempting offer ambassador" said Amell elbowing the king lightly since he was almost falling asleep "If the moment were to come you'll be the first one to know"

"By the Stone I shall take your word, Goodnight Chancellor, your Majesty"

With the last guest gone, or at least gone to sleep, the couple retired to their chambers.

Alistair got a very goofy smile on his face, he hadn't seen her in almost three months, and he had missed her dearly . However Amell face fell once they were alone.

"Alistair, my love, we need to talk" she said in a very serious face. It was then when the King noticed the deep bags under her eyes even covered by makeup. The thinness in her normally round face, the paleness of her lips, the lack of brightness on her hair. Alarms begun to ring furiously on the King's head.

"Amell" he said holding both of her hands "Solona, what's wrong my dear?" They had stopped in front of the library.

"I….can we do not do this in the hallway?"

"All right, the library, my room your room the gardens..?"

"Not any of our rooms please, the library would do…"

They entered the library quietly, it was a well-lit room with couches and expensive furniture, and everything was arranged so the attention was directed to the King's desk. They opted for not using the desk and instead head for the love sit by the fireplace. He sat down she didn't.

"Alistair I have been thinking very very hard" she said measuring her words "I cannot stay in Ferelden"

He felt as if he had been slapped "What?"

"I… I went to see Avernus recently" she said still pacing "I realized that maybe just maybe we do not have our future set in stone"

"What do you mean?"

"I need to find a cure"

"A cure?"

"Yes, a cure for The Calling, something to take the taint from our blood, so we can…" She made a pause followed with a haunted expression that didn't escaped the King's notice "so we can live longer, and not fall into the despair that would drag us to the Deep Roads"

"Do you think it is possible?"

"I found a lead, it was in a very old text from the Imperium, it has taken me months to decipher but I do believe the answer lies on the West, in lands that have never been touched by the Blight, places with distinct magic and…"

"You are leaving"

"Yes, and I don't know for how long" she bit her lip worryingly, not facing him.

"Is that why you had been crying and not sleeping?" he sked in the quiet voice

"What?" she asked puzzled as one of her hands touched her face lightly.

"You can't fool me Amell" he said standing up and cupping her face. She flinched for the slightest moment.

"I…"

"There is something more, your face tells a bigger story than this development" he took her hand in his. "I won't push, but you know I am here, and I will always be here, waiting for you."

"I doubt Eamon would be pleased with such development"

"To the void with Eamon, he has been parading noble women in court like it was a festival" he said as he hugged her. "I am sorry at what Lady Laurel said, I have been trying to get her out of the court for years, but you know how the Bannon can be, one minute is' Oh thank you for saving our life' and the next one is 'please lower our takes pretty please'"

She chuckled for a moment, and he realized how much had he missed her laugh, her very being. Without thinking he closed the distance between them both and planted a solid kiss on her lips. She was surprised and it took her a few seconds to react, but when she did he could feel the electricity running thru both. She too had missed him. They separated due the need of air and while he wore a bigger smile than what he had worn in months, her face still had a very haunted expression.

"Amell what…"but he couldn't finish because now she was kissing him. But the kiss had…something below the obvious lust and desire. It was almost as if she was apologizing for something. Was it because she was leaving? No, that leave would probably take her days or weeks to prepare the supplies among other things. It was something more. Alistair suspicions were proven true when he felt the dampness in her cheeks. She was crying.

If alarm bells were sounding before they were now deafening, Amell wasn't one to shed tears without reason. She cried after the Alienage Orphanage and after the Tower. She cried after Redcliffe and making the impossible decision of sacrificing Isolde's life, and once again after she was safe after Fort Dracon. She had almost cried when Morrigan…no, he didn't wanted to think about that now. They separated he put one of his hand in her shoulder while the other cupped her face forcing her to look at him.

"Solona" he used her name rarely, only when the situation was absolutely serious. This made her look at him square in the eye. Agony written in her face, tears still flowing. "Please my dear, tell me what's wrong, I haven't feel this useless since…well, ever"

She didn't responded but she there her arms around him and hugged him with desperation. He held her close as she dampened his fancy shirt. She began bumbling apologies between sobs. And he still didn't understand what exactly was wrong. They remained like that for that it seemed hours, Alistair rubbing gentle circles on her back. She eventually feel asleep in his arms, and he carried to her bedroom. He decided he would stay there as well. He could almost hear the scolding Eamon would give him in the morning when he saw him emerging from the Chancellor's room, but at the moment he didn't care Amell was upset, Amell was crying and it would take a literal ogre to keep him from her side. He placed her in the bed, removed he shoes and jewelry. He decided to sleep on his underpants and shirt. So he just removed the fancy layer of silk and laid at some distance from her in the bed. He felt a cold hand reach for him.

"May I hold you?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Most definitely" he responded getting closer to her. Normally he was the big spoon in this kind of situations, but he enjoyed being the little spoon too.

"Goodnight my love"

"Goodnight my dear"

The following month was a frenzy, Arl Eamon barely hid the fact that he was happy on being Chancellor (and the fact that Amell was leaving for undefined time without him actually doing anything). Appointments were made and preparations begun, the finest craftsmen came into the palace to make sure the Warden Commander had only the best equipment for her mysterious trip. So far only the inner circle aka, the bunch of misfits that traveled with her during the Blight knew of the intentions of her travel, and pledged assistance in case that it was needed. Even the stubborn Qunari Sten, who replied to the lengthy Letter sent by Amell with a simple 'Yes'.

However as days passed Alistair couldn't shake the feeling that something was on the head of his beloved. She sighted very frequently, her eyes still looked tired and a shadow of sadness covered her face when she tough he wasn't looking. She hid it well but not as well as she thought.

Alistair could be a very patient man if he had the right motivation, but even he had a limit, he had given her the space she had silently asked. And didn't questioned or mention the Night of Tears, but with one week before her departure he couldn't stand it anymore. The final straw occurred in their private quarters while she was brushing her hair. One of the few moments her hair wasn't coiled on a tight bun. She was there brushing her hair as he finished signing some trade agreements when she began to hum. At first it was a pleasant sound, during their camp days she often hummed Liliana's songs for days. It was nice enough, but the tune evolved into a sad melancholic hum and suddenly stopped when she could no longer hid her sobs. To see her, the strongest person he knew sobbing silently was unbearable.

He rose from his desk and approached from behind, not missing the fact that she still flinched at his touch, as she been doing since her return. He took her hand between his and kneeled in front of her with his head low.

"Amell please, tell me what's wrong, I can't bear to see you like this" He felt his own eyes watering, he felt so useless. "Say anything, if you want the throne of Orlais or the title of Viscount of Kirkwall I'll give it to you, but please my dear tell me what's wrong…"

Something inside her seemed to break, because she tumbled into the floor openly crying into his chest. "If I tell you you'll hate me!" she said as she clutched his shirt as a man clutched the last piece of wood in a wreckage.

"Amell there is nothing you can tell me that could possibly make me…"

But he didn't get to finish. "I was pregnant Alistair, I was pregnant and I lost the baby, and it is my fault!" Gone were the silent sobbing, she was openly weeping at this point, still not letting go his shirt.

"What?" he asked digesting the news that has surprised him as a bucket of cold water. A child, his child, their child gone before was even there. Suddenly all made sense, her rage at the ball, her haunted eyes and her weary face. She was grieving, she was grieving for both. He hugged her tightly against his chest, his own tears pooling at the news.

"How long?" he managed to ask without his voice breaking.

"I was entering my third month, I wanted to be sure before….before telling you, then few days before the ball…" She couldn't continue, the sobs drowned her voice.

"That's why you were late" he realized in shock. And yet she had put out a diplomatic face, greeted guest and reinforce treaties.

"The ride was painful but I needed to be here…" Not as painful as the knowledge she carried, he thought.

"Amell had I know…"

"Stop" she said looking at him with the most defeated expression he had ever saw on her "There was nothing you could have done"

"Neither did you"

She looked at him as if he just declared that he was leaving the throne to Anora. Absolute disbelief.

"There was nothing you could have done to prevent this, it was not your fault". He was not completely unexperienced with the subject, Lady Isolde experienced many loses before having Connor. He had been a kid, but he knew Isolde's gaze hardened on him every time she disappeared for a week and healers came and went from the castle.

"The taint…"

"If that's the case then I am equally guilty"

"But Morrigan…"

"That was blood magic and Flemeth magic, it doesn't count."

"Alistair" she said pleadingly, like she was begging him to blame her.

"I am sorry my dear, for letting you shoulder this alone, you have been very brave" he said as he stroked her hair.

She had calmed down, finally saying it out loud removed a weight she knew she was carrying. Alistair pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you, forever and always" he said it in such convictions he had no choice but to believe him.

"I love you too Alistair"

They spent the rest of the night close to each other, not letting go. To the Void the savants and nobles who whispered he was not letting her go before the time.

"I think it would have been a boy" she whispered quietly in the darkness once they were in bed.

"Oh?" he asked holding her a bit tighter

"If you don't want to talk about it I understand…"

"No, tell me everything" Knowing everything might give them closure, for both of them. He usually was not a fan to dwell on the if's but this time he would allow it.

"I…I think it would have been a boy, I imagined it would have been a copy of you…"

"Is Thedas really prepared for that?" he said thinking about a babe with sandy hair and deep brown eyes.

"He would have had bright blue eyes…" she said in a whisper

"Why? Neither of us have blue eyes…"

"My mother had blue eyes, apparently my family had infamous blue eyes, and I had, in theory, family in the Free Marches"

"Do you think he would have been a mage?"

"It was a high possibility"

"Why? I mean besides the fact that you are a mage"

"I…I don't really remember my mother or my father but what little information I was able to collect I was apparently the eldest of five, all mages, but stories vary very much on what happen to them."

"Do you remember anything about her, your mother I mean?"

"Sometimes if I sleep very deep I remember a scene, it's a city, strong, reminds me of Orzamar for some reason, the smell of sea, I am being carried away I felt cold and hard, a woman, my mother I think, is crying, begging even, her words don't make sense, they are blurred, but I promise something, I don't remember what. But I remember her eyes, bright blue eyes, so very sad. I was six when I was taken to the circle, but I remember that one of the first questions I ever asked was if I could turn my eyes blue. Thinking back I probably just wanted to remember my mother…"

"Amell…"

"That's why when I…found out… I prayed he wouldn't be a mage, I don't think I could have beard having my child taken from me…The Maker has an awful sense of irony" she laughed humorlessly. "I criticized Isolde's decision to hide Connor as selfish and irresponsible, and now I can't help but to empathize with her…" her voice had a bitter edge. He himself would have stood between her and the Templars, sword and shield in hand. He almost left pity for the Templars who would have been tasked to take that babe. Almost.

"Did you…did you thought of any names?" he asked trying to move to less painful topics.

"Of course, he would have been Loghain Rendon Theirin Amell" she smiled just a bit at that.

"Very funny my dear" he said frowning just a bit "however the question stands"

"Theodore" she said "I was thinking Theodore"

"Theodore Theirin" he tried "It rolls nicely on the mouth"

"You forgot the middle name, and my last name your Majesty"

"Right, so I get to choose one name?"

"Only one"

"Duncan" he said "I would have named him Duncan"

She grew very quiet and whispered "Theodore Duncan Therein Amell. It sound nice" she hadn't realized she was crying again. Talking the if's was like ripping the scab of a wound, but for some reason it was almost soothing like she was genuinely mourning now. And now she didn't have to lock herself in her room to cry, now she was in the arm of the person she loved most in the world.

Alistair chocked a bit before talking again "Was the baby….was he properly laid to rest?" he asked quietly

Amell shifted uncomfortably. "Alistair, by that time he still wasn't….he still didn't looked like a baby, it was mostly blood" she didn't wanted to give details that would haunt his nightmares, the images of that day already would haunt hers.

"Oh" he said

"Valenna" she said "Valenna is a Dalish elf, a new Grey Warden, she had seen this things happen before, she said that in her Clan, when this…happens, you gather all the bloodied clothing, burn it and then plant a tree with the ashes. So that the child continues living. That's what we did, the tree is in the Keep. We did this since the Chantry doesn't exactly give instructions for this …situations"

"That does sound Dalish" he said imaging Vigil's Keep with a proud tree in the gardens.

"He is with the Maker, maybe when I die he'll be waiting for me…I hope when the time comes I will recognize him…" she couldn't continue and turned to face him. "Andraste, what if he doesn't recognize me?!" She began to hyperventilate, why hadn't she thought about that?

Alistair pressed her firmly against her chest. "Shh shh, it's alright my love, when we die we will surely see him again and even if he doesn't recognize us we will recognize him, we will see those blue eyes we talked about and that stubborn gaze you have and Maker forbid, maybe my nose…"

Amell calmed down a moment.

"You think?"

"I am sure about it"

She feel asleep, deeply, it was as it was the first time she had slept in moths, which probably was true. The next days weren't considered easy, but there was determination in Amell's gaze. She had lost something, but she would not lose anything ever again, she will find the cure and she will save Alistair from the Calling. Even if it meant never to see him again or place a foot in Ferelden. If she needed to go to Tevinter, Par Vollem and the depth of the Dales she would. If the Trip involved traveling to uncharted territory she would.

She had a reason to fight.

She was to depart for Vigil's Keep in the morning to finishing sorting things up and Naming Nathaniel as the acting Warden Commander on her absence, then would depart to Amaranthine, take a boat to Val Roreaux and continue West, following the strange ruins of Tevinter.

Everything was set. It was their last night together and she would make sure to be one worth remembering. She entered his quarters, silent as a mouse. He was concentrated on something on his desk.

She couldn't resist, it was so perfect for a scare, and her intentions had been vastly different when she first entered the lavish room, but now she channeled her inner Zevran. The fact that he was looking down made it even easier. She leaned over, like a snake ready to strike. Only to be greeted by his lips on hers.

A surprising development to say the least.

She sunk into the kiss deeply, separating when she found a giggle emerging from his mouth.

"What's so funny your Majesty?" she asked with a pout

"That you think that you can scare me, I can feel you my dear"

She had forgotten about that little detail. Another reason to curse the Taint.

"You were so busy I couldn't resist" she said eyeing the parchments, some letters from Empress Celene, and some others from Orzammar.

"And now you ruined the surprise" said Alistair dramatically, standing from his desk. Removing his leather armor slowly.

"Surprise?" she asked not missing a single movement he was making. She knew he knew that watching him undress melted her. So the bastard knew what he was doing.

"Yes, a surprise" he said removing his shirt dramatically. The fire illuminating his flexing muscles. Amell could stare at those arms for decades.

"I think your surprise will work just fine your majesty" she said as color rising to her cheeks. She was biting her lip as she often did when being impatient. How she loved this man. Said Man who was walking shirtless and confidently towards her.

"Maker" she half whispered.

Yet he passed her as if she wasn't even there instead heading towards a drawer just behind her. He pulled out a wooden box.

Alistair cleared his throat.

"Mage Ania Solona Amell" he said using his king voice "For the services provided towards the defense of Ferelden and to the crown" he winked "I am honored to present you two gifts." He said opening the box to reveal a ring and a badge. "A badge unique for your rank that shall prove the world of your identity and services to Ferelden" he said pulling a beautiful silverite badge and placing it on her hands.

It was a beautiful crest of arms, it had the Ferelden coat of arms, grey warden gryphons, a cicle symbol two falcon on the side and a rose in the very center.

"Falcons?" she asked

"Shh, I am not finished" he said returning to his king voice "And a ring for you to seal the letter you will be writing to the crown in your absence to inform it of your discoveries" he pulled out her right hand and slip the silverite finger. A perfect fit with the same crest fitting in the central oval.

He left the box on the desk and kissed her hand.

"Now I am done" he said with a smirk

"All this, just to tell me to write you? You know I will, every day if possible" she was very touched actually, and the ring was beautiful, it almost singed…

"I commissioned the crest a while ago, I never knew when the right moment to give it to you was, the ring is new…"

"Alistair…"

"The ring has Lyrium infused" he explained taking her hand "It should empower your magic more, if there is ever an emergency it should be able to work as a Lyrium potion."

"Oh"

"You asked about the Falcons, I made some digging on my recent visit to Kirkwall, apparently that is the Amell crest, I think it would be nice for you to have it"

She hugged him.

"Thank you, both are beautiful"

The stayed in silence for a while.

"I will miss you" he finally said

"I will miss you too Alistair, I love you"

"I love you too my dear" he said as he smelled her hair and caressed her back. Then in one swift movement he had her over his shoulder.

"Alistair!" she said surprised at her sudden change of position. One minute she was hugging the man, the next she was being carries as a bag of flour. She was dropped unceremoniously into the bed.

"Now my lady" he said with hungry eyes "If you allow me I want to express my undying love for you for the rest of the night"

She giggled "Oh Ser Alistair, It would be my pleasure"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She departed the next day, determination firm in her gaze. The King as sad as he could be remained dignified and regal at the departure of the Hero. Tears would come later, he was sure of it, but for now he had reports to fill and a Kingdom to run. He had to be strong so Ferelden could remain strong.

Because he too had a reason to fight.