So here is my Dragon Age story. I went back to reread what I have already written on this site, so I could refresh my memory and continue writing again. Upon reading it, however, I was quite dismayed to discover several edits I had already completed were suddenly gone, and my author's notes were disappeared as well. It is... quite annoying. If you happen upon this story, and find any mistakes while reading, please let me know so I can correct them! Also, I do not own Dragon Age or any associated things. I also borrowed the name Cersei (but not the attached personality) from George R. R. Martin (as I'm sure more people are now aware than when I first started this story).

With a final clash on metal on metal, the fight was over. Loghain felt a sharp pain flare in his ribs and stumbled down to his knees. As Cersei Cousland began to raise her sword, presumably to finish him off, he looked up at her and spoke.

"Enough, please. I yield to you."

Cersei stood for a moment appraising him, then sheathed her sword. "I accept your surrender, Loghain Mac Tir."

Before Loghain could attempt to rise up from his kneeling position, Alistair's angry shouts began to fill the room.

"WHAT?! I didn't just hear you say that? You can't seriously mean that! He killed Duncan, he killed Cailan, and he's been trying to kill us for months. He deserves to die!"

Riordan stepped forward from the shadows before Alistair could continue. "I have a solution. Put him through the joining. There are… compelling reasons to have as many Wardens as possible on hand, and we number only three."

As Cersei tilted her head in thought, Anora spoke up. "Will that not be a sufficient compromise? It is my understanding that the joining itself is often fatal. If he survives, you will have a seasoned general join your ranks. If he does not, he will have death as a punishment. Surely this is acceptable?"

If anything, this enraged Alistair further. "What? No! Becoming a Warden is an honor, not a punishment! I will not accept him as a brother. Don't you remember him outlawing the Wardens? Declaring us traitors?"

Cersei closed her eyes wearily, not wanting to meet Alistair's gaze. She knew what he expected her to do, and she wasn't ready for the hate she would surely see in his eyes when she did not do it.

"Alistair..." she began, barely meeting his eyes before just as quickly looking away. "We need to do this. Riordan is right, there are only three Wardens in all of Ferelden. The odds are already heavily stacked against us – we must do whatever we can to stop this Blight. If that includes accepting a former enemy as an ally, than that is what I will do."

Sure enough, animosity began to flood Alistair's face. "Then you will do it without me. I will never call this man brother. I... I am leaving the Grey Wardens to become king. And yes-" he said, seeing the worried look that sprang to Anora's face "-I will still marry Anora and rule Ferelden by her side, even though it means I shall daily see a reminder of her father."

Anora allowed a brief, rueful smile to pass over her face before reaching over and laying a hand on Alistair's arm. "Alistair," she said. "Compose yourself. We will discuss this more later."

Cersei's face remained impassive, but inwardly she felt a keen sense of relief. She had been afraid Alistair would try something more drastic... such as beheading Loghain, and perhaps Anora, if she stood in his way.

As Anora began to address the Landsmeet, Cersei extended her hand to Loghain to help him up. As he stood, Riordan sidled up to Cersei, pointedly ignoring the glare Alistair was sending their way. Cersei could barely hear his lightly accented voice as he spoke, and had to lean close. "Well Warden, we have a joining to prepare."

They both turned to Loghain again. Riordan looked him over appraisingly before asking, "Are you ready?"

With the barest hint of a sneer, Loghain replied, "Do I have a choice?"

Cersei opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Instead, she looked over to her companions and beckoned Wynne over to them. Her friends were all murmuring amongst themselves, not doubt wondering when her sanity had taken leave. Though Wynne looked slightly murderous, she hesitated for only a moment before hurrying over to Cersei's side.

"What is it, child? Are you hurt?"

"No, Wynne, though I thank you for your concern. I am actually worried about Loghain – I think my final blow may have been more serious than I thought at the time."

Loghain interrupted Cersei with a snort. "I do not need any care from this mage. You are not so strong as you think, girl."

Even as he spoke, though, Cersei noticed that he was lying through his teeth. He was still not able to breathe properly, his face was losing color, and she noticed that a small pool of blood was starting to form around his foot. The blood sent a flash of panic through her, there and gone again before she could blink. She felt a moment of detachment from the situation, then came back to herself when she realized the Landsmeet was applauding wildly.

Wynne had her eyes narrowed at Loghain, and said, "He does not want my help, therefore I am rather... disinclined to give it."

She started to turn away, but stopped when she felt Cersei's hand on her arm.

"Wynne, please. The old fool is being stubborn, much as he has been for the last year." Loghain snorted again, and she lowered her voice so Loghain would not hear. "Look near his foot, Wynne. I believe his life is bleeding out of him. Please help him before the loss of Alistair becomes an empty sacrifice."

Wynne glanced down and her brows furrowed in sudden concern. She looked back at Cersei and observed Anora coming toward them, a look of concern on her face. Alistair was nowhere to be seen.

Cersei noticed that Loghain was becoming unsteady on his feet just as Wynne spoke.

"Cersei, please help me escort Teyrn Loghain to a room where I can examine the damage you did to him."

Anora reached them just as Loghain's knees buckled. She let out a gasp, fearing her father would fall, but Cersei's quick reflexes prevented Loghain from hitting the floor. She rushed forward and placed her shoulder under his arm and braced herself. His weight momentarily made her stagger, but after a moment she found her balance and lifted him back upright.

Though clearly close to unconsciousness, Loghain was still able to grumble about the ridiculousness of it all. "It's just a flesh wound, girl. Kindly let me go before..."

Loghain's eyes rolled up into his head, and his full weight slumped against Cersei. Unprepared for it, she fell to her knees with Loghain's arm still wrapped around her shoulders. Riordan and Wynne both started forward, but Anora was faster. Kneeling beside her father, she met Cersei's gaze and nodded. Together, they stood and began walking towards the exit. Wynne rushed after them and took the lead, guiding them down the hall to a lushly decorated sitting room.

Anora and Cersei lowered Loghain onto a rather large couch, and Wynne immediately stepped forward and placed a hand on Loghain's forehead. Her eyes closed and a blue glow began to emanate from her hand. Cersei reached forward and worked to undo Loghain's breastplate, knowing Wynne would need clear access to his wound. When she was finished and had lifted it off him, she inhaled sharply. His wound was deep and wide; she didn't know how she had been able to cut him so deeply. She could see the pale gleam of bone through the gash. Picking up his armor again, she saw what she had missed before – her dragonbone sword had punched right through his infamous armor. Turning it over, she saw jagged edges around the hole and knew what caused the ragged appearance of his wound.

Hearing a choked sob, she turned to see Anora standing with her eyes glued to her father. Tears were beginning to trickle down her cheeks. Tearing her eyes away from him, she noticed Cersei watching her and attempted to compose herself. She struggled for words for a moment before speaking.

"My father... my father is a good man. Please... don't let him die before he can redeem himself."

Cersei hesitated, then nodded. "We will save him, Anora. I promise."

Wynne had shifted her attention to the opening in Loghain's side, and both Anora and Cersei could see the flesh knitting itself back together. Within moments, it was healed completely with only the barest trace of a scar. Wynne let out her breath and slumped over, momentarily out of energy. Cersei leaned forward and laid her hand on Wynne's back.

"Wynne, why don't you go find a room to rest in? We can take it from here."

Wynne glanced up at Cersei and smiled. "Thank you, child. I am wearied beyond belief. Rest would be welcome." She stood slowly, and walked toward the door. "If you need me, just wake me," she said as she closed the door.

Cersei stared at the door for a moment, then noticed she was still holding his bloodied breastplate and set it aside. She turned to contemplate the man laying before her, feeling very conflicted about everything that had just happened.

Was she wrong to show mercy? Was she cheapening the Grey Wardens, as Alistair seemed to believe? No... she believed no one was beyond redemption as long as they sincerely worked for it. But he did try to kill them... Then again, so did Zevran, and look how loyal he was now. Of course, maybe she was just refusing to believe that the man who was her childhood personal hero could be past the point of redemption.

Anora could practically hear the turmoil that was roiling Cersei's thoughts. After several minutes, she politely cleared her throat, hoping to gain the Warden's attention. It worked. Cersei's head turned lazily toward her, a distant look in her eye. Their gazes met briefly, but Cersei finally dropped her eyes and sighed.

"Your majesty..." she began, but Anora cut her off.

"Please, call me Anora. I owe you a great debt... there is no need for formalities between us."

"Anora, then. I'm sorry this happened. I didn't realize I had injured him so grievously..."

"Thank you for that Warden, but there is no need to apologize. He is here now, healing, because of you. I expect his recovery will be full. I have to ask though, why you spared him. I thought, surely, your closeness to Alistair would have led to a different decision on your part."

Cersei felt a flush of guilt. Alistair...

She took a moment to compose her thoughts before she answered. "Anora... Alistair and I certainly were close. We spent many months being the remaining two members of an already exclusive order. With his superior fighting skills and, well, goofy sense of humor... he reminded me of my brother. And I came to love him like a brother – although I'm sure at one point Alistair would have liked it otherwise."

She trailed off, before sighing heavily and continuing. "The fact is, I would never deny mercy to someone who deserved a second chance. It doesn't matter that Alistair is... or was... the closest thing to a family that I had left. Your father is the reason we were born free. He has done great things with his life, and though he has lost his way of late, he can still do great things. Frankly, I can think of no greater thing than ending the Blight."

Cersei was shaking slightly from the strength of her own convictions. She felt curiously lighter, and realized she firmly believed she had done the right thing sparing Loghain. She would not let herself regret it.

Anora smiled softly, and said, "Thank you Warden. Would that everyone else will have faith such as you in the days to come."

Cersei decided it was time to leave. Motioning Anora nearer to the couch, she murmured, "Sit with your father. When he wakes, find me or Riordan."

She glanced down at Loghain again, and began to reach for his face, to brush some of his black hair away. She caught herself, however, and turned to exit the room without another glance.

Loghain awoke slowly, without opening his eyes. His head was pulsing, his veins felt as though fire flowed through them, and he had a bitter burnt-copper taste in his mouth. He had been… dreaming. And not pleasant dreams - hunting, his old mabari hound, Anora as a child. No, these were dreams of darkspawn (which he had already encountered) and the metallic screech of a dragon in the Deep Roads (which he had not). He suspected the dragon was, in fact, the Archdemon.

He had woken from sleep after his near fatal injury to find Anora sitting with him, smiling happily at his recovery. Then before he could even fully grasp the situation (The Warden saved him? Would wonders never cease?) he had been led to a small room and made to swallow darkspawn blood. Up until that point, he had always thought dwarven ale to be the worst taste imaginable.

As his vision of the room began to coalesce into solid images, he realized the female in front of him was not his daughter, but was in fact the Cousland girl. Although really, he probably should not refer to the first person to best him in years as a mere 'girl.' She was clearly a grown woman - and a phenomenal fighter. Accustomed as he was to the fair skin and honey colored hair of Anora, the Warden presented something of a shock to his eyes. Her dusky skin gave the appearance of a life lived completely out of doors, and her hair was a deep red - the color of the darkspawn blood he had recently imbibed. Her eyes were a beautiful contrast to her hair. They were a brilliant emerald, and she coated her eyelids with purple paint that emphasized the green. As much as he hated to admit it, she was breathtaking. It made him feel like a dirty old man.

Closing his eyes, he cleared his throat and said, "Warden. Is there a reason you are staring? Have I taken on the appearance of the Archdemon?" Opening his eyes again, he turned to her and noticed she had flushed slightly - or maybe a great deal, it was hard to tell with her. She was still staring, but now took the opportunity to speak as well.

"Welcome, brother."

Loghain snorted. "Brother, indeed. I am old enough to be your father."

"Perhaps, but you are not. You will, however, be father to another Theirin soon enough."

He grimaced slightly. "Do not remind me of the unfortunate circumstances I find myself in now."

Now it was Cersei's turn to snort. "Unfortunate circumstances? Forgive me if I do not share your pessimism. See, I consider you quite fortunate. Your life was spared, your daughter remains queen AND gains a king who is much less likely to die in pursuit of glory… and now you are a Warden, and in a much better position to end the Blight. Which, of course, you have firmly presented as being at the top of your to-do list."

Loghain began to form a retort, but stopped as a realization sunk in.

"Pursuit of glory…?" He knew he had a surprised look on his face, but couldn't seem to lower his eyebrows. He instead sat upright on the couch and spun to face her. "I did not hear you correctly?"

Cersei wanted to laugh at the look on Loghain's face. In all her years, even thinking back to the lighthearted banquets and parties she had attended in Denerim growing up, she had never seen him without a dour expression on his face. She refrained, however, suspecting it would only serve to offend him.

"Loghain," she began, only to trail off. She was amazed at how quickly her anger and resentment had left her. She now felt only a trace of the rage she previously had towards him. Then again, maybe she was just too exhausted from months of being the only person who was truly carrying the burden of the Blight.

She began again. "Loghain, I have had a lot of time to consider what happened at Ostagar. Right after it happened, I was as set on revenge against you as I was against Rendon Howe. But… I have spent many sleepless nights since replaying the events over and over. It is still hard to accept what happened, but I finally understand. I was there, after all-I remember you warning Cailan quite explicitly what would happen. He didn't even wait for Redcliffe's forces… and I don't know why. Instead, he goaded you into the battle by dangling threats of Orlais." She paused again, a shadow of memory passing over her face before she continued.

"There was no way to win that battle. Your retreat seemed so… self-serving at the time, but now… I've had to face difficult choices of my own to unite the land against the Blight. Some choices aren't easy, but they are for the greater good." Now her eyebrows began to draw together. "But, by the Maker, Loghain! Did you really have to declare the Wardens traitors?!"

"And how was I to know any better? Your commanding Warden was an Orlesian. Do you know what his brilliant tactical strategy entailed? He invited MORE Orlesians in! I did not fight for this nation only to hand it right back to them at the first threat to Ferelden. We do not need them."

"Well, I certainly agree that we do not need them… now that I've raised an army here. But," she halted, anger melting off her face and being replaced by confusion. "I thought Alistair said Duncan was from Highever?"

Loghain looked at her like she was a fool. "Even if he was born here in Ferelden, he came back here from Orlais. Use your head, girl, Wardens were outlawed in Ferelden until just after you were born. Besides… I knew him from a fool expedition Maric went on with the Orlesian Wardens - just before the Wardens were allowed back into our country."

Loghain stopped talking, noticing that Cersei's face was suddenly clouded with anger. "Do not address me as 'girl' again. I doubt a mere girl would have been able to give you a near-fatal wound in armed combat. You may address me as Warden for now… or Commander, because that is what I am to you. Understood? And for the record, Loghain, Wardens have no nationality. Orlesian, Antivan, even a bloody Tevinter… once you undergo the Joining, it isn't about where you're from anymore. We have bigger problems."

Loghain felt a grudging respect rise in him at her response. She had a point; not only had she bested him, but he supposed she actually was his superior now. And technically, the Archdemon was probably a bigger problem than a few chevaliers with thick accents and a love of fine silks. Realizing Cersei was waiting for a response, he said, "Yes, commander. I… understand."

Cersei rose suddenly, saying, "Excuse me a moment." Then she walked across the room and poked her head out the door, speaking in low tones before shutting the door again. She stood there a moment, watching him, before smiling.

"I'm having some food brought in for you. No doubt you woke with quite an appetite - just another side effect of the taint. I assume you dreamt… unpleasantly?"

He was rather hungry, now that he thought about it.

"Yes, I did dream. I assume the ghastly purple creature resembling a high dragon was our nemesis?"

"The Archdemon?" One of Cersei's eyebrows quirked upward. "Yes… we actually saw it once, in the Deep Roads. It's only a little larger than a high dragon, but otherwise they are very similar."

"A little larger? How in Andraste's name do you even know the size of a high dragon?"

"Oh, we've killed two. Although technically, one was actually a witch who shape shifted to a dragon… see, this armor is made from some of her skin. A bit morbid, perhaps, but it's amazingly resilient." She held up one of the straps of her dragonskin skirt.

Loghain knew he looked surprised again. "You were right, Warden. You definitely should not be considered a mere girl. I may have underestimated you."

Cersei smiled - her first genuine smile toward him. It gave her a small dimple and laugh lines around her eyes. "Of course you have, Loghain Mac Tir. In fact, I daresay you've met your match in me."

A knock came at the door and Cersei went to collect his food. Loghain watched her with a bemused expression; he rather thought he was inclined to agree with her assessment. Still smiling, she brought his tray of food to him and said, "I'll leave you to your meal. Rest a bit more, if you'd like - I'll come for you later."

With that, she left him with his thoughts. Closing the door behind her, she took a deep, steadying breath. When the elven servant had brought the food, she had informed Cersei that the new king-to-be had requested her presence. The elf - Cersei thought her name was Ismene - pointed wordlessly down the hall to the door at the end.

"Thank you," she said, before forcing herself to walk that way. She was nervous; after all, she had not spoken to Alistair once in the three days since the Landsmeet. Instead, she had been avoiding everyone (with the exception of Zevran, who alone of all her companions seemed to understand her deep well of compassion and forgiveness), and hovering around Loghain. First, to see that he truly would recover from their duel and second, to talk in private. In fact, she would probably be speaking with him still, if not for Alistair's summons.

Despite everything that had happened during the events at Ostagar, and in the time since, she found herself easily letting go of her anger. She knew she could not hold a grudge against Loghain or his tactics, especially in light of some of her own actions since becoming a Grey Warden. She had killed a group of starving refugees in Lothering, simply because they wanted coin to feed their families. She had spared and even accepted Zevran into their group, though he had tried to kill them. And who could forget Bhelen? He was now King of Orzammar by her hand-even though she knew he had killed both of his brothers in pursuit of the throne. But, she knew he was best for Orzammar's future. Lord Harrowmont had been too weak, and too… set in stone. (At that thought, she inwardly gave a snort at her own clever pun.) Why did Alistair have such a consistent inability to see the big picture?

Squaring her shoulders, she knocked with some trepidation on Alistair's door. His reply was immediate.

"Come in."

Cersei hesitated for a moment, then remembered who she was. She was the last Cousland, who had managed to avenge her slain family. She had killed two high dragons during her travels, and had gathered armies from across the land… Suddenly she wasn't afraid. After all that, what could Alistair possibly do that was worse?

Alistair heard the knock and hurriedly sat up straighter, saying, "Come in," as he smoothed his shirt. He thought about removing the scowl from his face, then decided to leave it in place. Let her see just how angry he was. He wanted her to hurt as much as he did. How dare she let Loghain live, let alone make him their-no, her brother?

Cersei stepped in and shut the door behind her. "You wanted to see me, Alistair?"

Alistair motioned to a chair across from him, saying, "Have a seat, Warden. And you will refer to me as 'Your Majesty.' Or have you forgotten already just what you've done to me?

Cersei managed not to make a face, but her jaw line did tighten perceptibly. Her voice lost all vestiges of warmth as she replied, "Forgive me, Your Majesty."

Alistair couldn't keep the smug grin off his face. "Now Warden, I called you in here to discuss one simple question with you."

Cersei cut in. "Let me guess: what was I thinking?"

Alistair flushed darkly. That had, in fact, been what he wanted to ask. However he wasn't going to have her running this conversation. He decided to switch tactics and get really nasty.

"Hold your tongue! Can you not keep silent until your King tells you to speak?"

Cersei narrowed her eyes and grated out, "Yes."

"Yes what, Warden?"

"Yes… Your Majesty."

Alistair felt a perverse sense of glee at the look on her face. He was rather surprised at that. He and Cersei had been so close, and now he only felt bitter animosity toward her. He wanted her to squirm, he wanted her angry… but most of all, he wanted her to cry.

Alistair sneered at her and said, "Actually, Warden, I just wanted to ask if you were going to be as loyal a general as Loghain was. Tell me, is your strategy in the coming battle going to be the same as his was at Ostagar?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Al-Your Majesty! This is not the same and you know it. Our army is far larger this time. And frankly…" she paused, knowing what she said next would anger him as she never had before. "I agree that Loghain's decision at Ostagar was harsh, but it is what had to be done. I may not like what happened, but I respect Loghain's decision and I respect him. He made the right decision, difficult though it may have been!"

Alistair exploded out of his chair, screaming, "How can you say that? What in Andraste's name is wrong with you?! He killed Cailan, he killed Duncan, and he killed half our army!"

Cersei cut him off again. "No, the darkspawn killed them! And yes, half our army was lost, because we were completely outnumbered. Had Loghain not pulled out, we would have lost the half that was under his command, as well. We would have still been without a king, or Duncan, but there would have been thousands more families mourning their lost soldiers. Be reasonable, please!"

Alistair started moving around the desk toward her, anger suffusing his face. Cersei stood, but shrank back a bit in spite of herself. Alistair grabbed her bare upper arms and started shaking her.

"Have you completely lost your mind? With his forces we could have won the battle! We would still have Duncan and Cailan, we would have ended the Blight already, and I would not be stuck as King!"

Cersei winced. His grip was strong, and he was hurting her. "Please, Alistair… you weren't there… you don't know…"

He squeezed tighter, angrier than he could recall being in his life. The sharp edges of the gauntlets encasing his fingers began to pierce her flesh.

"ARE YOU MAD?! Have you forgotten that I fought by your side through the Tower of Ishal?"

Cersei flinched again, but stood firm. Her lower lip was starting to quiver, though - she was frightened and hurt. She had never seen Alistair in such a state.

"That's not what I meant. You were not at the meeting before the battle… with Duncan, Loghain, and Cailan. Loghain told Cailan to wait, to stay off the front lines. And Duncan was waiting for support from Orlais, but Cailan insisted-"

"YOU LIE!" With that, Alistair threw her back, meaning to push her into the chair. But he pushed too hard, and she went flying back, knocking the ornately heavy chair over. She let out a scream that was abruptly silenced when her head struck the stone floor. Alistair stopped, suddenly shocked at his actions. He stared at Cersei's immobile form, and noticed for the first time what he had done to her arms. He had just enough time to murmur, "Bloody Maker," when his door flew open.

Loghain had been in his room, mulling over his conversation with Cersei, when he heard the shouting begin. He wasn't particularly interested in hearing another argument, but he was able to make out a few snippets of it nonetheless.

"…I respect Loghain's decision, and I respect him…"

"How can you say that… he killed Calian!…"

"No, the darkspawn killed them…"

"ARE YOU MAD?"

A brief pause followed this last - thirty seconds, perhaps, and then the final shout - "YOU LIE!"

Then Loghain heard Cersei scream, but it was quickly cut off. He was out the door before it ended though, and moving rapidly down the hall. The scream had come from behind a door that he recognized as one of Maric's many "studys"-basically just a glorified room with an elegant desk. He threw the door open with a bang, and saw Alistair a few feet from Cersei. She was crumpled on the floor beside an overturned chair, and she wasn't moving. Alistair was staring at Cersei. He glanced quickly from Loghain back to Cersei, and then gave a guilty start as he realized just who was in the room with him. He turned his head toward Loghain again, but refused to meet his eyes.

Loghain moved over to Cersei's side and noticed there was blood on her upper arms. He gave Alistair a disgusted look as he knelt to scoop her up in his arms. Bracing himself, he stood and turned to glare at Alistair again.

"I suppose I am no longer the only one to betray the Grey Wardens."

Alistair turned away from him, too ashamed to form a reply. He couldn't even look at Cersei right now. He didn't know if it was due to shame from hurting her, or if it was from the anger that still burned through him.

Loghain narrowed his eyes before rushing from the room, shouting for the mage. Behind him, Alistair stood alone, looking lost and defeated.

Loghain hurried into his room and gently placed Cersei on his bed. He was angry - with Alistair for losing control, with Cersei for provoking Alistair, and most of all with himself. He should have known better than to let Cersei go alone. Certain traits of the Theirin bloodline could be… less than pleasant when displeased. Honestly, though, he was more angry at himself for caring so much one way or the other. Why should it bother him so much that Cersei was injured? After all their previous animosity toward each other - or at least his hostility toward her - it took only one smile from her before he was setting those feelings aside and sassing the new king on her behalf.

A slight movement from the bed drew his attention, and he realized he was pacing. He forced himself to stop and refused to acknowledge the import of that. After all, he only paced at times that he was effectively drowning in misgivings and fear. He watched Cersei closely, looking for more signs of life. He heard a thick moan coming from her, before her body gave a sharp jerk. He turned toward the door, intending to poke his head out and yell for the mage - Wynne was her name - but Cersei began to convulse before he could move.

Panic gripped Loghain, and he started screaming for Wynne even as he moved to hold Cersei down. Her eyes snapped open, revealing the whites only. The brilliant green pupils had rolled completely back into her skull. He heard running footsteps, but did not turn. He was afraid to look away from her, afraid that if he was not watching and holding her down she would be lost. However, when he heard a strangled gasp he couldn't help but turn - just in time to see Alistair fleeing the room. Almost immediately, he heard what sounded like a collision, followed by Wynne's voice.

"Alistair? What's going on…?" From the sound of it, Alistair kept going without bothering to answer. She stepped into the room and stopped, gasping, before rushing forward. She turned a glare to Loghain, asking, "What happened?" even as she reached for Cersei.

"Why don't you ask your new king, woman?"

A blue glow began to surround Cersei, and Loghain felt a rush of magic pass through him as Wynne created a cleansing aura to heal Cersei of her injuries. She immediately stopped convulsing, but started moaning again. Wynne's brow furrowed in concentration, and the glow turned green.

After a tense moment, the moaning stopped and Loghain felt like he could breathe again. Cersei's eyelids began to flutter, but did not quite open. Against his better judgment, Loghain leaned forward and grabbed her hand. He felt her fingers gently squeeze as Wynne stepped back and took a seat, clearly wearied.

Cersei's eyes opened, and closed again. After another moment, she forced them open and looked around. She saw Wynne first, and smiled at her. Then she noticed that it was Loghain holding her hand, and got a slightly perplexed look on her face. She looked up at him, speechless.

Wynne broke the silence. "How are you feeling, child? Does your head pain you?"

Cersei nodded mutely, still looking Loghain in the eye, before dragging her gaze away.

"Yes, Wynne. I still have a slight pounding in my skull. And of course, an overwhelming sense of disbelief… But I suppose you can't heal that, can you?"

"I'm sorry, dear," said Wynne as she stood and reached for Cersei's head. After a brief pulse of light, Cersei sighed in visible relief.

"Now," said Wynne. "Can I ask what happened? You had a serious injury; who did this?" She gave Loghain another glare as she asked this.

Loghain realized he was still holding Cersei's hand, and dropped it with a grimace. Returning Wynne's glare, he began, "I told you, ask-"

Cersei cut him off. "It was Alistair."

Wynne's mouth dropped. "But, surely…"

"What? I must have provoked him? I may have, but," and her eyes hardened, "he can not use that as an excuse. To be an effective ruler, Alistair will have to learn to listen without letting his emotions color his reactions. Hopefully, this will be a lesson for him."

Wynne looked flustered, but composed herself and said, "I suppose you are right. Still, I can't imagine what could have provoked him. I know how much he cares about you."

Cersei glanced at Loghain's impassive face, but he was looking the other way. She wondered how much he had heard; he obviously heard something or he would not have been here now. She turned her face to Wynne.

"I may have… angered him when I expressed my support for Loghain. And again when I said he made the right choice at Ostagar. And once more when I told him that Duncan was waiting for Orlesian support, and that Loghain explicitly warned Cailan to stay off the front lines."

Wynne was looking at her as though she had recently grown a second head. A very large demon head that was screaming obscenities and must be destroyed.

"Wynne, I know what you must be thinking, but I stand firm in my beliefs. You were not at the king's meeting just before the battle. In fact, only two people still survive who were - myself and my new brother here. So you will have to trust me when I say Loghain is not to blame for Cailan's death."

Loghain had been idly gazing toward the window when he heard this, and he jerked his head sharply to look at her. He did not know what to make of this Warden. He had hounded her across the length of Ferelden, had allowed Rendon Howe to send assassins after her (instead of facing her himself, which would have been the honorable thing to do), and had even allowed Howe to carry out horrible acts in his name. After all that, after all the righteous anger she had displayed at the Landsmeet, she sat here actually defending him. She had lost a man who was a brother to her because of her decision to show mercy, yet she stood up for his honor. Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, indeed.

Wynne chose not to respond, instead pursing her lips before saying, "I believe you are alright now. I shall take my leave."

She stood, but Cersei stopped her. "Wynne, please inform the others that we'll be leaving the palace within the hour. Let's not intrude on the king's hospitality any longer. We can meet at the palace gates."

Wynne inclined her head slightly, and said, "As you wish, Cersei."

She thanked Wynne, and smiled sadly at Loghain as she rose. Wynne had never called her by name before. She couldn't help but feel regret at the rifts this man was causing in her friendships.

"Loghain, I'm sorry you had to hear me yelling at the king."

Loghain snorted. "Don't be sorry, be glad that I was near. Within moments of carrying you to this room, you began convulsing. I suspect your skull was cracked. You are lucky Wynne is so skilled. It is unfortunate she also throws moral judgment around so frequently."

Cersei's smile faltered. "Oh… my skull?"

Loghain felt a brief twinge of something as her smile fell. She looked absolutely exquisite when she smiled. "Just consider us even, Warden. You saved my life, and I yours."

Cersei's smile sprang back to life, this time with no trace of sadness. His pulse quickened at the sight. What a foolish old man he was… but when was the last time a woman such as this smiled at him?

"We are even, aren't we? And what a wonderful trust-building exercise! Now we can get right back to killing darkspawn!"

Loghain rolled his eyes and turned to pack his gear. The slightest hint of a smile crossed his face as she walked out the door.