It had been almost a year since her breakdown at Denerim palace. Now she skirted past it, preferring to stay in the dark back alleyways of the city than in the bright, bustling market where the nobles lived. As the Hero of Fereldan, she got glances from time to time that she'd prefer not to receive, but for the most part Alexa was able to stay to the shadows and lead a relatively quiet life. She continued her work for the Blackstone Irregulars and the Mage's Collective, preferring the freedom of travelling from place to place rather than be tied down.
Fergus was in Highever, picking up the pieces that Arl Howe had left scattered all over the countryside. It was a slow process but they were a resilient people. And while sons and daughters were buried, more came along to rebuild. Soon farms were popping back up with homes standing tall and proud. The castle itself had remained structurally sound. It had been hard for the two of them to sort through the memories and destroyed belongings, but they had done it together. A dull ache bloomed in Alexa's heart as she remembered gathering her nephew's remains to bury with the rest of their family. Arl Howe, it seemed, had not been contented with the destruction of her family. He hadn't stopped until everything had been torn to shreds, until he had raped the dignity and memory of the Couslands who had been there before her. Once the rebuild was underway, she left the finer details to the elder Cousland. It wasn't like she would be able to contribute to the family line anyway.
Liliana had chosen to stay behind in Denerim, becoming part of Alistair's royal court. She was a liaison to the Chantry and one of his royal advisors. They wrote from time to time, though they both were starting to realize that while they would always feel affection for one another, the blight and the need for friendship and companionship was the driving force between them rather than a true connection. It was alright though. She always had a bright smile for Alexa, which made her visits to Denerim a bit more pleasant.
Morrigan had, of course, left before they faced the archdemon. She heard rumors from time to time of a woman meeting her description living in the Wilds. Sten had left shortly after the battle, choosing to return to his precious Qun. Alexa had heard of the group of Qunari warriors who got stranded in the Free Marches and wondered if he was one of the ones stuck in Kirkwall.
Zevran had chosen to travel with her, her remarks of finding more treasure with her than without her seemed to be enough to keep him motivated to be by her side. And while there was that one incredibly drunken night – okay, maybe three – where she had woken up naked and sated with him in the bed next to her, they never went beyond the lines of comfortable friendship. Other than those, you know, one maybe three times. And while most friendships would be strained, theirs seemed to grow, nights spent together out of lonliness and affection and the need to turn to something – someone – familiar rather than a paid whore.
Through their travels, they met and grouped up with Oghran and Wynne for a bit. Alexa had caught wind of the fact that Nathanial Howe had been captured in Amaranthine. And while she had essentially told the Gray Wardens what they could do with themselves, she still felt a strong sense of loyalty to them. Wynne was in the city on business for the King, travelling to the College of Magi for some research project. While they were there, Oghran had decided he wanted to become a Warden. Amazingly enough, so did Nathanial. She stayed long enough to see them start training and once she was satisfied they would be able to live long enough to see the next year without her, she, Tiny, and Zev gathered their things and left Amaranthine. Shortly after, the city fell. So back to the Keep she went to band with Oghran, Nate, and the mage Anders against the darkspawned who called himself the Architect.
They all pushed her to talk to Alistair, to consider his side and to forgive him. He still loved her, they would tell her. And it was obvious that she still loved him. There was no reason the two of them should be miserable and apart. Having since lost contact with Alistair, the King she had to keep reminding herself, Alexa kept a variety of contacts in Denerim to keep her up to date on his well-being. He was ruling well and his people loved him. It made her happy to know that at least one of the two Kings she had put on a throne was doing well. The dwarven King, Harrowmont, apparently wasn't doing all that well. Not that it really mattered, Alexa needed their support for the Blight and beyond that, well, she'd had enough of politics to last her a lifetime.
That was probably why she was ducking through questionable areas of the city at night with a dark cloak swirled around her body. Her warrior sensibilities wouldn't let her travel without a suit of armor, though her time with Zevran had taught her that heavy plate didn't always have a place. Tonight she was clad in the drake scale armor that Master Wade had created for her so long ago. It was almost as good as the plate she owned but was a bit less conspicuous. And the message she'd had delivered to her quarters were cryptic enough to peak her curiosity to make the trek across the city.
As she entered the Pearl, Tiny whined and stayed by her side. Zevran would certainly discover she'd slipped out, but she figured she had enough of a lead to get a bit of privacy for this strange endeavor.
Sanga, the owner of the Pearl, gave Alexa a small smile as she entered the establishment.
"Good evening, my lady," she greeted warmly. "How can we help you this evening?"
Alexa pushed her hood back from her cloak and smiled in response. "I believe there is a party waiting for me."
"Yes, of course," Sanga responded and nodded towards the back. It wasn't the first time she'd been directed to a clandestine meeting in some back room. Alexa just hoped that this time there wasn't any blood for the owner to clean up afterwards.
Tiny perked up a bit, catching some scent that just his nose could detect. As he led the way towards the back, a familiar tingling sensation crept up her spine. Alexa had to resist the urge to drag out her sword and yell a warning about darkspawn. Instead, she set her jaw and had the unpleasant urge to turn tail and run. Not that she would ever consider running away…again… Besides, Tiny had already beaten her to the door and, upon his scratches, had pushed his way inside when it was opened. It was too late to back out now.
"Maker help me," she muttered to herself and tugged her hood back up. It was a ridiculous response, but at this point made her feel a bit better knowing she was somewhat shielded from view.
As the Hero of Fereldan made her way into the small back room, Alexa pursed her lips. The room was practically filled with armed soldiers, each embossed with the royal crest. She had the sudden feeling this wasn't going to go well.
"Lady Cousland," a male voice greeted and one of the armed men reached out a hand in greeting. He was definitely older, somewhere in the realm of Eamon's age, with jagged features and silver hair. A long scar went across his face and he had a ruthlessly trimmed beard. His deep gravelly voice grated against her nerves and something about him put her back up.
She took the hand he offered, pursing her lips. "I do not believe I have been addressed by that title in quite some time."
"Ah, yes," he cleared his throat. "We were not sure…"
"You may call me Alexa," she responded dryly and sat at the table in the small, dark room. Alexa pushed her hood back, listening to Tiny's tail thump on the floor. Traitor. He was in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows so only the offending tail was showing.
"Yes, my Lady," the soldier responded. "I am Commander Evans of the Royal Guard."
"Good for you. To what do I owe the pleasure of being summoned to such a fine establishment at this hour?"
Evans cleared his throat, eyes narrowing at her haughty tone. Hero or no, this girl was a disrespectful little wench. And Evans did not do disrespectful.
"You used to be so much more diplomatic."
Alexa's eyes didn't dart to the shadows, though her cursed heart did beat just a hair faster than it had a moment before. To the casual observater she looked to be quite bored, in fact, tapping her fingers on the table.
"And you never would have resorted to such cloak and dagger techniques before, Alistair," she responded. She was glad her voice didn't shake. The Hero of Fereldan offered a silent prayer to Andraste that it stayed steady and true.
"Your majesty," Evans' gruff voice piped up, cutting off any response that either she or Alistair had waiting on their tongues. The rather large man moved closer and scowled down at her. His shadow blocked out the dim lamps that were struggling to illuminate the room.
"Excuse me?" Alexa questioned.
"When speaking to his majesty you will address him with his proper title."
"Evans," Alistair's voice warned while Alexa simply laughed in his face.
"I have no allegiance to any king, let alone this one."
While the soldier spluttered in anger, the sound of a chair scraping filled the room. The handful of other soldiers that were standing around looked at each other, nervous. Alistair came into view, shoving at his golden blonde hair and Alexa still refused to look in his direction. She kept her gaze at the angry man standing in front of her.
"Speaking as such is treason," he spat. "And you will show some respect." He reached down to grip her arm.
"Evans, knock it off," Alistair's voice rose. They ignored him.
"I put that man on the throne," the redhead said coldly. "I have shown all the respect he deserves and then some. I owe no allegiance to him or anyone but myself. Therefore, I will speak to him in any way that I please."
Evans growled and gripped his sword, pulling it out of its' sheath with an unmistakable ringing of metal on metal.
"You will stand down," the King commanded. A twisted part of Alexa's mind admired the sound of authority in the blonde's voice, curious to know what he could get her to do should he command her in that tone of voice. Preferably while naked. Apparently his Commander, however, did not hear the command.
Letting herself be pulled up from her chair, Alexa wrapped a gloved hand around the hilt of her longsword. She was starting to regret not wearing her plate mail. While Evans breathed in her face, Tiny inched towards them, his lips curled back and teeth exposed while a ruthless growl sounded deep in his throat.
"Unhand me," the redhead murmured quietly. "Or I will make you unhand me."
"You do not frighten me little girl," was Evans' arrogant reply.
"I should," was her quiet reply before chaos erupted in the room. With a spin, she was able to pull her arm from his grasp, wrenching out her sword in time to clash with his. Tiny launched his muscular body at Evans, his biting attack deflected just before his teeth sunk into flesh. Alexa took advantage of his distraction to slam the pommel of her sword into his face. Alistair was yelling something in the background but neither of them heard it. The rest of the soldiers moved nervously, some had weapons drawn but none had bothered to join the action. Unlike their commander, the little redhead in front of them scared the crap out of them.
The fight was over almost as it began. While Evans was older and probably had more experience, Alexa had spent the last year travelling with a very devious former Antivan Crow. She fought dirty. In a few deft moves, the older man was laying on the floor with the tip of her sword resting against his throat.
"Alexa," Alistair's pleading voice cut through the rush of bloodlust and she finally looked at him.
With an angry look she pulled her sword away from the Commander's throat, sneering down at him. "The next time you draw a weapon on me, I will kill you."
"Evans. Shut your mouth." Alistair shoved one of his guards aside and came to the middle of the room, speaking as Evans had begun to open his mouth. He thought about offering the man a hand up but was so frustrated that he pushed the thought away and turned to look at Alexa instead.
"So was this the reason you brought me down here, Alistair?" Alexa demanded, sheathing her sword. "To try to intimidate and bully me? After everything I've done for you?"
"After everything you've done?" he repeated quietly. She watched in idle curiosity as his temper flared. "What about everything I have done for you? I gave up everything for you."
"Oh yeah, fucking that bitch and becoming King is such a hardship!" Alexa shook her head at him, the pain from pushing him away still fresh in her heart.
"Everything I have done since we met has been for you," the former Templar told her, his voice suddenly sad. "Including fucking that bitch."
They stood there for several moments, staring at each other. A flicker of uncertainty flashed in his face and Alistair started to reach out to brush a strand of hair out of Alexa's face. She flinched and shrank back, shaking her head, tears wanting to rush to her eyes. "Don't touch me."
"Alexa…"
"Just…don't." Her shoulders drooped and she looked so tired, aged beyond her years. "What do you want, Alistair?
He sighed. "I need your help, Alexa. Something was stolen from me."
"What, your favorite brick of Redcliff cheese?"
"No." He hesitated and suddenly looked so tired. Alistair waived his hands at his guards. "Leave us."
"Your majesty," Evans protested. He had pulled himself off the floor and was staring angrily at the King.
"Oh Andraste's flaming sword man, she will not harm me."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Alexa muttered under her breath. Tiny woofed at her and she rolled her eyes. "I swear on everything that is good and holy that no harm will come to the King while he is in my company."
Grumbling, they left and crowded outside the door. Evans gave her one final glare before shutting the door behind him. Feeling about as tired as Alistair looked, she leaned against a wall and raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.
"You look well," Alistair said after a long while.
Her temper wanted to flare up, all that pent up hurt and anger aching for release, but she found that even after all this time, she still loved the bastard. So she smiled a little instead. "As do you. Though you look to be softening a bit about the middle. They are feeding you too much cheese, I think."
"Tch, there is no such thing," his amber eyes twinkled at her. They enjoyed a minute of easy, casual banter before he drew in a deep breath. "As much as I would love to spend the night talking to you, I do have an important matter to discuss with you."
"Something more important than me?" she teased and enjoyed that she could still make him blush. "So tell me, Alistair. What is it that has been stolen from you?"
"My daughter."
Alexa's knuckles whitened and she lurched forward. The pain that flashed across her face was so severe that Alistair felt as if he'd have hurt her less had he struck her. "You really are a bastard."
"Please, let me explain."
"There is nothing to explain." The redhead wrenched open the door. "Tell your whore to go find her."
"She's not – I haven't even – oh Maker damn you, Alexa, she's ten. She's not my blood." Alexa stopped, turning slowly to meet his pleading gaze. "She was an orphan. She… she tried to lift my purse while I was in the Market. Evans wanted to have her hanged but she… She looked so much like you. And I missed you so badly. And I got to know her and I…"
The guards at least attempted to look like they weren't straining to hear every word their King spoke. For that, Alexa closed the door gently in their faces as she turned around and studied Alistair. She considered him for a long while, studying his sheepish grin. He, too, looked aged beyond his years. Politics were not easy. And while rebuilding Highever had been a struggle, she could only imagine the difficulties he came across while rebuilding an entire nation.
A small wedge of respect bloomed, but she still couldn't keep the increduality out of her voice. "You adopted a thief."
"She was hungry," he responded simply. That was all the explanation he needed then and was definitely less explanation than he needed now that he'd grown to know and love the girl.
"What's her name?"
"Sylvia." Alistair sank into the chair in which Alexa had been previously perched, shoulders slumping forward.
Against her better judgment, the redhead moved toward him and put a hand on the back of his shoulder. He leaned towards her, wrapping his arms around her body and turning, until she stood between his knees, holding onto him.
"I hate this," he murmured, fighting his grief. But sitting here, face pressed against her stomach, the smell of leather and steel and something uniquely her, it bubbled over until it threatened to overcome him. "Someone is always there, always watching me. I can't mourn for you, be scared for her. I never wanted to be the bloody king."
"I know," Alexa responded gently. "But you cannot deny the fact that you're a good one."
"How would you know," came the sullen, muffled reply.
"Do you honestly think I haven't kept tabs on you, Alistair? I wasn't about to throw you to the wolves just because I was angry with you."
"But you left."
"Yes. I left." And standing there, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, she was finding it difficult to remember why. "You have no idea how it felt. I was ready to die. I had made my peace. And in one fell swoop, you pulled that rug out from under me. I was left in limbo. For a long time I felt like the walking dead."
"Swooping is bad," he responded, not sure what else to say.
Alexa laughed at that, "Yes. Swooping is bad. I had no idea Fergus was alive. I was told hours earlier – hours, Alistair – that I would probably die and if I didn't, I would never have children. I was never going to grow old with you, bear your children. My purpose was to die at the feet of that archdemon."
"I didn't want you to die. Not for me. My life isn't worth yours."
"You're the king, Alistair. Your life is worth more than most."
He shook his head, leaning back to look at her. "Not yours. How could I live knowing you were gone? How could I love my country and my people knowing they had cost me the one thing I love more than anything."
"Even more than Sylvia?" Alexa arched a brow, a smirk across her lips.
"That…is a different kind of love. Boffing her would be like boffing, you know, my sister. Or my…my…"
"Daughter?" Alexa supplied.
"Yes! Well. She is my daughter so that's even more so accurate."
"And a child."
"Also true. So see? Definitely a different kind of love." They were both quiet for a moment. "I was unconscious for most of it."
The Hero of Fereldan shook her head slightly, confused. "Most of what?"
"Morrigan."
"I don't want – "
"You're going to have to listen, Alexa." He said it in his King voice. She was so used to him taking her orders, even after this long, that she shut her mouth in stunned silence. Later she'd think back on it and continue her delightful little fantasy of what else he could get her to do with his King voice. "I couldn't…you know, get it…up. For her. And demon baby or not, if I ever lay eyes on her again I will slit her throat. I hate that woman. She's vile and evil. And she used us, devious harpy…"
"Focus, Alistair," she told him.
"Right. Well. She did some kind of, I don't know. Spell. Enchantment. Whatever you want to call it. It felt like a dream. I was in this happy place – "
"Gross."
"Not that kind of happy place. Yours is the only happy place that I've known, as far as I'm concerned. I haven't, with anyone else I mean. Not since… It's okay if you have. I mean. I understand if you have. Not that this means we're together again. Unless you want to be. I want to be. Do you want to be?"
She paused, chewing on her lip before answering honestly, "I don't know. Finish your story and then we'll deal with finding Sylvia."
"And us? I still love you, you know."
"I know. I…"
"You would do well to let me enter," an accented voice piped up from outside the door. They could hear hushed voices and one rather gruff one, but could not make out the words.
"Zevran," Alexa breathed, pushing away a bit from Alistair and turning to face the door, grateful her friend had come to her rescue. She didn't need him to rescue her from physical harm at this point, but from emotional harm instead. And as her heart cracked open again, his timing could not have been more perfect.
The King's eyebrow rose and he leaned back to look up at her. "Zevran?"
Tiny barked and the redhead crossed the room to pull the door open. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find me."
"Have no fear, for your Zevran is here," the elf flashed a wide grin and he looked over Alexa's shoulder. "Ah, I see our favorite bastardly King has found us. It was taking so long for you to send a message to the Warden I had almost thought we would have to send a search party for you ourselves."
"What are you talking about, Zevran? Alistair needs our help."
"So you did not get…no, of course not. Well, your majesty," Zevran dropped into a deep bow with a flourish before grinning up through his bright blonde hair. "How do you need Zevran to service you?"
Alistair, it seemed, could still blush from tip to root. "My-my daughter was kidnapped. The guards cannot find anything."
"You're daughter?" All three of them ignored Evans' spluttering in the hallway, complaining that the King had not given the guards adequate time to locate the girl before enlisting the help of that red haired bitch. "Perhaps you should call her your niece in front of Alexa, lest she separate you from your more favored body parts."
"He adopted her, Zev," Alexa told him quietly.
The elf nodded, "I see. It all makes sense now."
"She was late in returning from her lessons. As she is fascinated by sword play, she will usually stop to watch the men train. She has even convinced one of my Captains to take her under his wing and begin tutoring her." Alistair shrugged, sheepish. "Who am I to tell the girl she cannot wield a sword?"
"And so you didn't notice her tardiness?" Alexa filled in.
"I got pulled into a meeting with the bloody nobles. They were complaining that we were spending too many resources in rebuilding the Alienage. It was late when I got to my rooms. We…she has this thing about the dark…" Alistair paused, obviously unsure if he ought to reveal the girl's secrets. "She has not had a pleasant childhood. So each night before I go to bed, I check on her and we make sure the room is safe. Surely you can understand how I cannot turn from a child who has been abandoned from everyone who should have loved her?"
"I do not think that either of us would begrudge you for taking her under your wing," Zevran told him, a gentle smile on his face.
"Well, I got there that night and she was not there. She has taken to exploring the palace when she is bored and so I assumed she had done that. And then I found this note. We searched the palace top to bottom. She was gone."
"Did they ask for a ransom?" Alexa asked quietly.
"No. No you don't understand, it was written to sound as if it had come from her. They're trying to make me think she ran away. But she wouldn't have left."
Alexa and Zevran shared a glance before the redhead reached out and placed a hand on Alistair's arm. "There is no gentle way to ask this Alistair, but are you sure she didn't just rob you blind and took off in the middle of the night?"
"No, she didn't just leave. She's not you," he snapped, frustrated. Tiny growled his disapproval and Alexa merely pursed her lips at him. "Sorry. I'm sorry. My head is spinning and I can't…apparently I am still unable to think around you."
"When was she taken?" Alexa finally asked after what seemed to be a very long and uncomfortable silence.
"Three days ago."
"I will see what I can do. But Alistair, if I find her and she has truly left of her own will…"
"Then she has left."
Zevran was already hovering near the door as Alexa stared down at Alistair's form. His elbows were propped up on his knees and he looked as if someone had placed the weight of all that the Maker created upon his shoulders. I still love you, he had said to her. She had been filled with such a righteous anger for so long. It was quite a shock to see that all this time she had been more angry with herself than with her precious, precious King. Words couldn't come close to portraying her thoughts and feelings so instead she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.
"I will find her. For you." She whispered it quietly to him. "And then we will talk."