A:N/ I recently got the two World Of Thedas books and have read about the characters of the beloved Dragon Age. I stumbled upon a story about Anora and Cailan as young rebels and can't help but be inspired to write a two chapter story in both POVs. I am entirely in love with their relationship in where it's very angsty and my OTPs tend to be angsty. Also, I don't see a lot of stories that delve into their relationship as both of them being at fault. It's either one of them is this huge asshole and the other is innocent. I honestly believe both of them have had something to do with being completely horrible in their relationship and it makes me sad because I believe that they had so much potential as King and Queen of Ferelden as well as to each other.
Also, I'm very inspired by the author, JayRain, because I believe she has that sense that both of them would've made a wonderful couple if they just tried.
This is going to be only two chapters long, one will be in Cailan's POV and the other in Anora's POV. My goal is to try to write out my feelings about this couple because I just can't with them sometimes.
Withouth further ado, I hope you enjoy, my dear readers.
He remembered when he first talked to her. At nine-years old, she didn't do much. But, he was only five, so who was he to judge.
She was sitting by herself in his late mother's gardens, reading a book. He saw long blonde hair that was pulled back on the side and wrinkled eyebrows as her clear blue eyes scanned the pages. She was dressed in white and he remembered thinking of how ethereal she looked. Like Andraste reincarnated.
Anora. He remembered the day his Uncle Loghain brought her to the capital. He was five years old and she was nine. His father told him to be nice because Anora was new and didn't have many friends, so Cailan took it upon himself to be nice. He had smiled at her, that smile that usually got him out of trouble.
But, one cold look from those eerie blue eyes and Cailan clamped up.
It wasn't long before the other noble children began complaining about her and how quiet she was and how she refused to play with them. But, Cailan had always been curious, watching her, and turning around whenever she caught his gaze.
"Cailan, come on. Let's go already." The voice of Thomas Howe interrupted his thoughts and Cailan sheepishly turned to the group of friends that had been playing behind him.
"Uh, I don't feel like it…" Cailan said, his grey eyes darting back and forth to the girl dressed in white and to his friends.
Thomas seemed to catch it and he sneered. "Oh come on, Cailan. She won't even bother talking to you. She's, what my dad says, an old hag." The group of boys seemed to snicker at the term.
Cailan hesitated and turned his full attention to the boys, but he really didn't want to go. His father had been adamant about staying in the gardens until he came back.
Plus, if he disobeyed, his father might leave him alone again.
Cailan shuddered at the thought.
Thomas sensed Cailan's hesitancy and rolled his eyes, "You're the prince. It's not like—"
"He said he didn't feel like going." A curt voice cut Thomas off and Cailan found himself turning around.
The book was placed beside her and she was walking towards them with her head held high and those clear eyes glaring daggers at Thomas.
Thomas paled, slightly, but he stood his ground.
"Oh, wow, Cailan, I guess you need someone to help you talk." Thomas sneered. The boys snickered behind him.
"Are you dense? He already told you he didn't want to go. I simply repeated what he said." Anora stated. Cailan couldn't help but think of how her voice sounded like a bard's warm lullaby.
The boys snorted at that and they immediately clamped their hands on their mouths when Thomas turned to glare at them. With one last 'hmph', Thomas took his leave and the boys followed, sheepishly.
Cailan watched them go, frozen. Anora sighed after a moment before walking back to her stone bench and resumed her reading.
It took a moment, but Cailan walked towards the busy girl and watched as she looked up as if confused as why there was a sudden shadow blocking her lighting.
He saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes and Cailan knew that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be that bad.
"Thanks." He said, smiling slightly at her. Anora stared at him for a moment and Cailan could feel the heat creeping on his face. The blushing must've shone because Anora's pink lips curved in a small smile before she returned her attention to her book.
Cailan didn't take it as a brush-off, so he sat down next to her.
"What are you—"
"Why didn't you go with them?" Anora cut him off, not even looking at him as her eyes were glued on her book.
Cailan paused at her curtness, but he found himself replying, easily, "My father said not to leave the gardens."
Anora looked at him and then returned her attention to her book, "Smart."
Warmth coursed through his body at the abrupt compliment and Cailan felt at ease next to the girl with the icy eyes and cold demeanor.
"You think so?" Cailan asked, wanting to hear more of her voice.
"I said it, didn't I?" Anora asked, more like stated. Cailan felt himself getting embarrassed, but he was still so curious. A curse that apparently every Theirin boy had and that had gotten them all in trouble from what Uncle Loghain said.
"What are you reading?" Cailan asked, suddenly, his curiosity getting the best of him. Anora sighed, softly, but she answered him, "About the Grey Wardens. It's a history book."
Cailan started to feel excited. "Can you tell me more about it? I can't read those type of books yet."
He watched as Anora, in disbelief, placed down her book on her lap and turned to face him. The surprised expression on her face made his face feel like he was about to burn like when his Uncle Loghain stared at him.
"You want to hear about what I'm reading?" She asked, softly. Cailan couldn't help but think of how beautiful it sounded.
"Y-yeah! My mother used to read to me when I was a baby. That's what the servants say, I mean. I don't know…I k-kinda just like hearing about books and all." Cailan mumbled, sheepishly, averting his eyes from her gaze.
He heard the reshuffling of papers and a light cough, "Well, I'm reading about griffons and Grey Wardens. So, what would you like to know?" Anora asked, quietly.
Cailan felt the clamp that he set up open and he began to ask and ask. Yes, he remembered that day. It was the day that Anora Mac Tir became his best friend.
He remembered the days when he truly knew Anora Mac Tir.
They were inseparable since then. Cailan would always look forward to ending his lessons just to play with Anora. They got into all kinds of trouble because of their adventures. Getting into wine cellars and running into the forest with mabaari pups, it's what Cailan looked forward to everytime he saw her face light up when she saw him coming closer.
She always had something interesting to do. One time, he had caught her practicing archery, but she had been caught by her father, his own Uncle Loghain, and was scolded for skipping her lessons.
Cailan had watched silently as she bowed her head and stared at the ground, listlessly.
He comforted her after. They were seated on that stone bench in his late mother's garden.
"He doesn't understand." Anora sighed, playing with her hands. Cailan, taking it upon himself to cheer his best friend up, placed his head on her lap, lazily, looking up at her, who seemed a bit taken aback by the affection.
"I understand, Ana." He said, playing with a blonde strand of hair that fell from her braids.
He smiled at her then. She always smiled back. That smile, it was really the Anora he knew back then.
It was the Anora he always wanted to have with him at all times.
She was there when his father merely passed by him when he went to show him something cool. It was cold, snowy day and Anora had pulled him aside and brought him outside on their stone bench, all cuddled up against each other.
"He's just busy, that's all." Anora assured him.
"I guess." Cailan responded, blankly, shuffling his feet.
The cold wetness from a snowball woke him up. He faced Anora and he saw the mischievous grin on her face.
He forgot his father soon after.
Anora loved swordplay.
Cailan remembered when he had caught her with a wooden sword in hand and a practice dummy on the other side of the training grounds. He watched her in awe because he knew she probably couldn't sense him.
She had screamed once when he crept from behind her. A victory he would never let go as he always reminded and teased her flushed face.
This time, he decided to hold a wooden sword himself.
"Hey, Ana! Watch out!" Cailan roared, running towards her. The blonde girl jumped slightly and she immediately held her sword in a defensive position, colliding into Cailan and knocking the air out of him.
Cailan couldn't remember anything. Only the fact that he was wheezing and the frantic noise of Anora hissing his name.
"Cailan, you fool!" Anora repeated, shaking the boy as if he was unconscious.
Cailan coughed and his cough suddenly turned into laughing. Anora stared at him as if he had gone crazy, but a flash of a relieved smile was on her face when he calmed down.
"Your father's going to kill you if he ever found out." Cailan managed to choke out. Anora's face suddenly turned worried and grim. She began to bite her lip, a habit that Cailan noticed she was beginning to form and a gesture that always had Cailan blushing.
"You're not going to tell him, are you?" Anora whispered, her clear eyes begging him.
Cailan sighed, but smiled, lazily. "Of course not, Ana. It's always you and me and our little secrets." He assured her, his stormy eyes trying to search her face for any relief.
Instead, he got a confusing blush that spread on her face and a flash of embarrassment in her eyes.
Anora coughed and got up, dusting herself off.
Cailan followed suit, but he grabbed her hand and decided that another adventure was waiting for them.
And, for once, Anora followed.
He remembered the day he took that light away from those beautiful clear blue eyes that looked at him with laughter and freedom.
"What do you think you're doing?" A twenty-year old Anora asked him. Cailan ignored her, still pulling on her hand.
"Come on, Ana! I know you want to strike that dummy. The guards are done training and your father and mine are out hunting. We have the whole training grounds to ourselves!" Cailan exclaimed, happily.
Anora sighed, "Cailan, you're sixteen. You only have to wait two more years until your father will begin training you."
Cailan rolled his eyes and snorted, "The old man is just using that excuse so he won't have to teach me until he can use another excuse." The annoyed grimace he made as he clenched Anora's hand made Anora stop him with a hard tug.
Cailan turned around to see why she stopped and he saw the alarm in those clear blue eyes.
"Cailan, you know that's not true. Your father—"
"Yeah, yeah, he loves me. Don't worry, Ana, I get it." Cailan joked, trying to ease the tension. But, of course, there was no fooling Anora, but he thanked the Maker when she relented and let him pull her to their original destination.
When they reached the training grounds, he turned and bowed to her in a mocking manner. "I present to you, your domain, my lady." He announced, his extravagant walk made his long hair whip in the wind and on to his face.
Anora rolled her eyes, but she walked around the grounds, examining the swords in awe.
"They really stocked up this year." She whispered under her breath, her eyes gleaming.
Her golden hair, long and in waves, framed her heart-shaped face, beautifully. Her figure also blossomed as the years gone by reminding Cailan how much his body must be changing also much to his embarrassment.
Cailan watched her, his own heart swelling at the peaceful expression on her face.
She was having a hard time with her father pressuring her to be a perfect lady. Sometimes, Cailan could feel the frustration she felt since both their fathers wanted them to be something that they weren't ready to be.
Especially that marriage.
"He talked to me about it again today." The sound of Anora's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Cailan grimaced, but he waited, patiently, taking a seat on the side of the weaponry as he watched Anora's profile.
"Talked about how it was time to stop fooling around and building unnecessary calloused hands. He said, 'Anora, you're going to be the future Queen of Ferelden. No more excuses.'" Anora sighed, "Of course, I couldn't get a word in. Just kept on blabbering about how duty over the heart is worth more."
She looked up at him and Cailan's heart clenched at the sadness in those bright eyes that usually held some light. Instead, they were cloudy with weariness and defeat.
Cailan patted the seat next to him, holding his arm out so she could rest her head on his shoulder. She took it, easily fitting in his embrace, and Cailan felt at peace.
"Cailan, I want to run away. I want to discover who I am outside of this court. But, you know I could never leave you…I just…Tell me what to do. You're my best friend. You know me better than anyone." Anora whispered against his shoulder.
Cailan froze. This was it.
He wanted to tell her that he was ready for it. For them.
He knew he loved her. On his 18th birthday, Anora had given him a dwarven-crafted greatsword made of the finest steel. He looked up at her, with the biggest smile, and he couldn't keep it in anymore, "I love you, Ana. I really do." Anora had simply smiled back, the biggest smile that Cailan would ever see, and she kissed his cheek.
She didn't say anything back.
Because he knew what Anora really craved for the moment she talked about Grey Wardens and griffons when they first really began their friendship. The way her voice would change when she talked about the outside world and the tourneys they watched as kids. The way her eyes would light up and her laughter, Maker, her laughter would light up a room.
She may have said she loved him, but he knew that her love wasn't the ones written in history books that usually ended up in tragedy.
It was the love that Queen Rowan had for her King Maric. It was the love that you held for a friend and that you could never let go because that person knew you inside and out.
But, it wasn't the love that King Maric had for his Katriel, no. That was his love for her.
And, in that moment, Cailan said the words that would seal the impending doom of any tragic love story.
He chose to be selfish. He chose not to watch another retreating back walk away from him.
"Ana, stay with me. Don't leave. I'll make you happy to the point that you won't crave anything else. Please, I…I need you." Cailan said, his lips pressed on her forehead.
His heart began to beat, fast. Was it guilt? Was it happiness?
Anora chose to look up at him and his heart caught in his throat. She smiled at him, the most utterly heart-breaking smile of acceptance.
"Okay, Cailan. For you." She said, still smiling that smile.
She rested her head against the crook of his neck and sighed, but Cailan was frozen.
He saw her eyes and those eyes that once held the light of impossibility had the shattering shadow of the limited.
She chose to stay for him, but her heart, surely, was somewhere else.
He remembered the guilt that began to eat away at him.
Anora wasn't the same again. She didn't practice swordplay anymore. She attended her lessons, readying herself to be a queen so Cailan rarely saw her.
He remembered when he finally got to see her. His heart stopped beating as his eyes were trained on the woman before him.
Twenty-three and at her prime, Anora will always be ethereal in his eyes. But, gone was the long blonde hair that he would run his hands through it as she talked and the smile that she held when he would joke around with her, her hair was now coiled in braids at the back of her neck and her face was stoic and grim.
Those eyes that once held the light that he looked forward to was now gone.
"Cailan," she greeted him with a trained smile, her light voice was now gone and replaced with a curt tone and proper feeling, "It's been too long."
Cailan gulped and he could feel the shadow of his conscience torturing him.
Look at her. This is what you did to her. You caused this. She's miserable because you begged her to stay, you pathetic fool.
"Ana—"
"Anora is more appropriate, Cailan. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble." She stated, her head tilted at him in a prim manner.
Cailan clenched his fists, but he remained calm. He had asked for this, begged really, and this is what he'll have to deal with.
It wasn't Anora's fault. And that's what broke his heart.
"Anora," the sound of her full name sounding foreign to him, "would you like to accompany me to the training grounds or the gardens?" Cailan asked, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they could simply be Cailan and Ana again.
"Anora! Your lessons!" Loghain's voice echoed throughout the hallway. Cailan winked at her and began to cup his hands to yell something back, but the sudden grab of his arm stopped him and he looked at her, shocked. He froze when he noticed her eyes.
She looked away.
She politely shook her head 'no' before moving to walk away.
"I have other business to attend to, Cailan. I'm sorry." Anora apologized. She was gone before he could say anything.
He stood there, for however long, and stared at the looming hallway.
Hurt. Sadness. Confusion.
It was all there. He saw it even though she tried to hide it. For Anora Mac Tir was his best friend and the girl he loved, but alas, those clear blue eyes couldn't even meet his stormy gaze anymore.
He remembered the day she almost came back to him.
He had lost his father at sea. The Landsmeet was going on while Cailan had little time to mourn his father, let alone chant a prayer.
"Cailan," Anora's voice wafted throughout his room, "Cailan, are you here?"
Cailan responded by pulling the blanket over his head.
"Not now, Anora." He replied, curtly, hoping she would leave him alone. He didn't deserve her comfort. He didn't deserve any kindness she would offer to him.
A sense of relief washed over him when a pale hand pulled the blankets away and he was met with the face that he missed.
It would never change the fact that he missed her. He craved it. He craved her.
What a sick man he was.
"Hey," she whispered, smiling sadly at him, "Is there room for another?"
Cailan watched her, guarded and a bit surprised, "Anora, I don't think-"
A hand on top of his mouth stopped him and Cailan's grey eyes widened once he met her determined gaze. A gaze he missed so much in the passing years.
"I'm tired of thinking, Cailan. Let's just…Let's just be Cailan and Ana again. Just this once." Anora whispered, her eyes betraying a sense of her hopefulness.
Cailan didn't think. He pulled her into his embrace and held her until his tears dried up.
He wanted to beg her to not only have this one moment, but to have many more moments like this, just them.
But, he didn't have any right. She lost her freedom because he begged her to be with him.
So, what right did he have to ask for anything more?
He remembered how he failed her. How he began to.
They got married, quickly. Cailan indulged himself with wine, ignoring the looks of concerned noblemen and gossiping maids. He didn't even try to meet the eyes of his new bride, who seemed to be trying to get his attention.
It wasn't until an abrupt grab from his Uncle Loghain that ushered him into his room that woke him up.
"Father, that's not necessary!" Cailan heard Anora hiss when the doors to their room were closed and he was thrown on to the bed.
"He was making himself look like a drunkard. He was going to embarrass you already!" Loghain hissed back, angrily.
"He's not his father. Leave him be." Anora said, a little bit loudly. Cailan then heard the sound of shuffling and a loud bang at the door.
Cailan heard a sigh and the sound of a bit of sniffling. His heart began to beat and he urged himself to sit up.
"A-Ana?" He slurred, trying to sit up and clear his head.
The sound of sniffling seemed to stop and a gentle hand was pressed against his chest.
"Sh, it's okay, Cailan. Just rest." The sound of Anora's soothing voice lulled him to lay back down.
But, he held on to her arm and he couldn't find it in himself to let go.
"Ana, I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Cailan whispered, hoping that she could hear him.
"Cailan, sh, no need to be sorry. If you wanted to get drunk, It's understandable. Your father isn't here. You're in pain. I get it." Anora assured him, stroking his forehead and hair.
"No, no, Ana. You're too good to me. You're just too fucking good. That's why I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Cailan began to mutter, incoherently, and the tears began to form in his eyes once more.
The sounds of shifting and blankets being thrown made Cailan move and he felt a warm embrace wrapped around him and he sighed.
"Cailan, rest." That's the only thing she said.
But, throughout the whole night, Cailan could remember the wetness against his forehead and the taste of salt that dribbled on to his lips.
Barren.
That's what they all accused her of.
His own damn uncle had the audacity to suggest that Anora be put aside.
"Leave. Now." Cailan demanded, his face filled with rage.
"Cailan—"
"Get the hell out of my face." Cailan interrupted his uncle, throwing his wine goblet at him.
Arl Eamon scrabbled away, his face contorted with anger as he threw his hands up in defeat. He left with a heavy bang.
Cailan slumped down on the throne, his face in his hands as he tried to calm himself down.
How dare they. They didn't know shit. None of them did.
They didn't see the tears that Anora shed. They didn't hear her cries of anguish when she was by herself. They didn't see her take disgusting potions and try to keep it down.
He didn't even see it. He just knew. The way her eyes were rimmed with red, the way her yells would echo throughout their bedroom when she collapsed in the bathroom and she didn't know he was there, and the way he found empty vials in hidden under bookshelves.
Fuck all of them. And most of all, fuck himself for making her stay.
If he had let her go, she wouldn't have to go through this. She would've slayed dragons at this point, writing letters to him of how great it was to see elven statues that they read about, and glowing so beautiful with her cascading blonde hair.
They had fought more than once already about the impending issue of a heir.
"They're right, Cailan, you know they are." Anora stated, listlessly, her eyes trained on the book on her lap.
"Anora, we're still young. We can keep trying. You know that." Cailan argued, his bulky frame pressed against one of their bedposts.
"It's been almost four years, Cailan. It's an issue." Anora said, remaining passive.
Cailan wanted to pull his hair out. He wanted her to look at him, but at the same time, he wanted her to be happy. To always be happy.
"What do you suggest then, Anora?" Cailan asked, his heart breaking at the sight of her being listless and stoic.
"Mistresses." Was the answer that came out of her trembling lips.
She didn't even look up at him. But, this time, Cailan was going to make her.
He crossed the divide between them and knelt down, grabbing her arms and staring right into those apathetic blue eyes.
"Tell me you're joking, Anora. Tell me this is some sadistic joke that you decided would be funny." Cailan hissed, his angry eyes searching her's.
She stared back at him and whispered, "No."
He got up, then. Letting go of her hands abruptly and had left the room, no words said.
"Your Majesty," an elven messenger came in, holding a letter, "Letter from Orlais. The Empress herself sends it."
Cailan nodded his thanks and received the letter. His eyes widened, and his heart began to pound.
He let the letter fall to the ground and he looked up at the mosaic tiled ceiling. Guess the Maker truly was making his life a laughingstock.
He remembered when he just simply ran away from her.
He stopped sleeping in their bed. He couldn't stand looking at her anymore. All he could think of was how he did this to her.
Instead of hating her father, Anora was looking more up to him, agreeing with how stupid Cailan's rule was turning out to be.
Ha, Cailan couldn't even argue with her there. She was by far the best ruler. She deserved to be king even.
Instead of discussing things with each other-no matter how big or small-, they stopped talking altogether.
Anora would wake up alone. Cailan would wake up to a blonde woman he wished was her.
The letters from Celene were increasing and Cailan didn't even feel anything at this point. He didn't even bother. All he could think of was to set Anora free. That she would be happy somewhere else rather than with him.
Oh, there were smiles exchanged between them, but Cailan would cut it short and he could see the hurt in her eyes. But, he didn't deserve to be happy with her. He did this to her.
He took her away from a life that she truly deserved. Those smiles shouldn't be for him.
"Your Majesty," some blonde woman crooned at him, "come back."
He turned to look at her and he stared at her. But, no, Anora's mischievous icy blues weren't staring back at him. Some other disgusting color that represented his guilt and shame stared back at him.
So, he embraced it and returned to the darkness that he belonged to.
Ostagar.
They said it was a Blight. One so terrible that many people would die because of it.
Cailan agreed to it. His eyes lit up with excitement and his lips moving with some charismatic speech in the Landsmeet, but his clouded gaze met his wife's icy gaze.
And he saw it. The fierce light that she used to carry when they trained together, laughed in each other's arms, or after they made love once upon a time. But, it only lasted for a moment because she looked away.
And, Cailan, well, he hoped that he knew that he was doing this for her.
She could finally be free of him and she could have the freedom she deserves.
"Everyone, leave. I need to speak with my husband." The sound of Anora's airy voice now curt with order and one that fit a queen wafted throughout the war room.
Cailan looked up and so did the noblemen. His shock and surprise shone as he stared at his wife, who stared back at him, unmoving.
"Did you not hear my order? I said leave." Anora repeated, her voice now clearer and adamant.
The noblemen began to scramble at once, leaving King Cailan and General Loghain.
"Father, I would hate to repeat myself." Anora stated, her back straight and her head held high.
Loghain sighed, "Anora, stop this child's pl-"
"I am your queen. You will do as I say." Anora interrupted her father, the cold gaze she gave him cut him off.
Loghain grunted, but did what was ordered of him.
The doors closed with a loud band, leaving King Cailan and Queen Anora of Ferelden in a war room.
"Anora, what is it?" Cailan asked, slowly, not sure of what caused her to act so impulsively.
He watched as she walked up to him, his eyes mesmerized by the sheer beauty of her and how he cursed that effect that she still had on him.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Anora asked, her eyes still trained on him. Cailan shook his head, cautiously.
"Anora, I—" He was interrupted by a stinging slap that crossed his face. He faced her in shock.
"How dare you." Anora hissed, angrily, her hands now clenched, and her eyes wide.
"Do you think you can just leave just like that? That I'm going to allow you to leave? You told me to stay, Cailan, and I stayed. Don't you dare walk out on me when I fucking didn't." Anora raved, angrily.
"Do you think this is easy for me, Anora? Because it's not. But, I have to. I have to do it for Ferelden. I have to do it for you." Cailan stopped himself once he realized what he began to say.
That seemed to also surprise Anora, her eyes narrowing and her mouth forming into a small 'o'.
"For me? You think that I want you to go out there and have yourself killed? Are you insane?" Anora asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Because you deserve more than me, Anora. Do you not get that by now? I made you stay and I promised to make you happy, but did I, really? I fucking broke it. You're miserable and it's all because I asked you to stay for my selfish desire." Cailan argued back, slamming his fists down against the war table.
Anora flinched, slightly, at that, but her face began to crumble and a hand was placed on her mouth. Cailan began to realize what he did and approached Anora, slowly. He gently grabbed her arms and slowly brought her into his embrace.
She began to curl up her fists and pounded against his chest, angrily. "You're a fool!" She said, repeatedly.
Cailan closed his eyes and tried to hold her, but she managed to push him away and he landed on the floor, painfully.
He waited for her to leave, not even daring to look up at her. He hoped she got it. He hoped she realized that he was right. And then, maybe, this guilt would disappear.
But, the slamming of the door didn't sound and he looked up and saw her, tears streaming down her face and her blue eyes staring straight at him.
And that light. That light had returned in her eyes and he stilled.
"I stayed because I loved you. I always did. And yes, you're right. I wasn't happy on staying and I had to go through hell for staying, but all I had to do was look at you and your smiling face. Do you not get that Cailan? You feel like you failed me? Well, I feel like I failed you. I failed to give you a child. I failed to be a good wife. I failed—"
He cut her off. He grabbed her arm, dragging her down on top of him and he kissed her. He kissed every part of her face, murmuring to her to shut up.
"I love you. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Cailan whispered against every inch of her skin. He reaffirmed his love with every kiss, every touch, and every sigh.
She came undone under him and he followed after, their cries echoing throughout the war room.
He began to caress her face, wiping the tears away.
"I never deserved you." Cailan whispered, his gaze never leaving her face.
"I should've been more open with you." Anora whispered back, caressing his face.
They stayed like that, whispering their regrets and their love for one each other, basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the windows with their bodies wrapped around each other for one last time.
He remembered that as the time she almost saved him.
But, she couldn't save him. It was too late. He already made a commitment to Ferelden and to Orlais.
He had explained this to her and she had cried against his chest, begging him to stay and that they would figure it out together and not alone like they tried to do for the last five years.
"This is my fight now. You need to be strong like you've always been, Ana." Cailan stated, as they faced each other one last time.
Anora held on his gauntlets, her hold tightening, as if threatening to burn the gold.
"Ana…how long has it been?" She whispered, her smile showing disdain over the whole situation.
"Too long." Cailan agreed, placing a hand on her cheek.
They stayed like that for a long time before Loghain interrupted them, urgently.
Cailan nodded and he felt Anora's grip tighten. He sighed, his heart growing heavy.
"Ana, remember what I told you about Alistair." Cailan whispered to her, his eyes begging her to understand.
Anora nodded, hesitantly, and her eyes searched his own, "But, that's not needed because you will return to me."
Cailan chuckled, slightly, "Always the stubborn one."
Anora simply stared at him before giving a smile of her own, "You're one to talk."
Cailan pressed his forehead against her's, "I love you, Ana. I truly do."
Anora smiled at him, the smile that he once got when he had told her he loved her on his 18th birthday.
"And I you."
Anora whispered something else. A statement that needed to be answered, an answer he already knew, but he didn't answer.
Cailan let go, hesitantly, and turned to mount his horse. He stared at Anora for a moment who simply nodded in return, her eyes steadfast.
He turned his horse around and began to lead his forces into battle.
He didn't look back, but he could feel the heat of her gaze and he was so tempted to return the look.
But, he couldn't.
He rode on, remembering every moment he had with her. The moments they loved and hated, they cried and hid, and they felt alive and dead.
I will see you again.
She had said it with so much fervor and love.
But, how would she see him when she deserved to be with the Maker?
And, him? Well, here he was, rejoining his kin, the darkspawn.
She had introduced him to the Grey Wardens and the griffons. How they rode into battle with their mighty beasts. She had sighed, wistfully, about it. She had given him the love for fairytales. And, he had taken them away from her.
Maker, please. Let her free. Let her fly on griffons just so he can see that light in her eyes and that long blonde hair in the wind.
Give her the life that I took away from her.
_A:N/ So yeah, that's Cailan's part of how I see him. Not as a stupid arrogant king or an asshole who doesn't know anything, I see him as a simple man who had no relations to his father, only stories, and afraid of anyone he cared about leaving him especially with all the responsibilities he shouldered. I was going to write a part in where he finds out about his brother, but since this is focused on him and Anora, I decided to leave that part out.
The next chapter will be Anora's part especially after Cailan's death, so I hope you stick around for that!