A/N: Just remember kids, love needs to be tested now and again…

Duty's Journey - Chapter 4

Longing

On the edge of the Silent Plains – Two weeks later

Despite growing up on the edge of the Waking Sea, Elinora had never seen anything so open and vast in her entire life. The Silent Plains stretched on for leagues without a tree or hill to break up the carpet of green and the ceiling of blue.

How Tesh and Bala could stand it, she didn't know, nor ask.

"So," she looked over at Neven who was walking ahead of the wagon with her, "why would anyone have a great market in the middle of… that?" She waved her hand in the general direction of the Plain.

"Because all you need is a stepladder to see for miles. No bandit raids. And its good for pasturing horses. Come on, we're going to make camp here early and set out tomorrow."

Elinora nodded and got to work setting up camp. She sent Finn hunting and wasn't surprised when he returned quickly with a nice fat rabbit. Bala, baby Remin in her arms, examined dinner, still kicking in Finn's jaws, and then unceremoniously pushed Remin into Elinora's hands.

"Um, Bala, I'm not really good with…"

"Nonsense, Eli. I just need you to hold him while I get hold of this coney. That hound of yours is a right good hunter." Bala plucked the rabbit from Finn's jaws, gave him a scratch behind the ears and went about cleaning it.

Remin, in the meantime, had gotten hold of a lock of Elinora's hair and was contentedly chewing on it. He looked at her with baby eyes and waved baby fists at her, and her heart, so neatly forgotten about, melted. She sat down on an obliging rock and cuddled Remin close to her.

Sweet Andraste, she thought, why did I have to give this up?

She played the afternoon away with Remin, Bala quietly putting Gena or Beni to the chores usually reserved for Elinora. Elinora didn't even notice until the sun was almost down and Bala was handing her rabbit stew and flatbread. Remin was rocking in Elinora's helmet, giggling with delight at the ride.

"Uh-oh, someone's found a new toy," Bala smiled as she picked up her son and bounced him. "And a new playmate it seems."

Elinora blushed behind a bite of stew. "I really have no maternal instincts."

"Oh yes, I can tell. Bedtime for you, my boy!" Bala gathered up her son and bid Elinora a good night.

Elinora took her usual second watch that night, walking the perimeter, sitting by the fire and, more than any night before, feeling. Something about playing with Remin had opened up all the emotions she had locked away. One face returned to her again and again.

Alistair.

She had been able to forget him for a time, Tesh's crew being a very pleasant distraction, but tonight she ached for his touch, his laugh, just his warm presence next to her. When Neven relieved her, she went to her tent and dug deep into her pack for something she hadn't wanted to look at for a long time.

Alistair's rose, still perfect in its box, opened the floodgates on a thousand memories. Nights in camp, by the fire, in his tent, every touch and kiss. Oh how she missed him. Tears fell, kept quiet by virtue of biting her hand. Eventually they drained her into a fitful sleep.

Denerim

With the tolling of a gong, Alistair set aside the document he had been reading. It was time for dinner and to be done with work. He gave his Chancellor a sly look. "So, Eamon, any guests scheduled for dinner tonight?"

"Just one, your majesty." Alistair groaned, but Eamon plunged on. "Mage Wynne has requested to join you."

"Wynne? Thank the Maker. I was worried for a moment that you'd have some other girl, trying to beget a royal heir."

"Not tonight, your majesty."

Alistair hurried out of the room before Eamon could add anything and jogged to the dining hall. Wynne was already there, sipping a goblet of wine. She bowed as he entered. "Your majesty."

"Oh please, don't. Formalities are unnecessary to the woman who darned my shirt and washed an errant sock or two."

"I wanted to throw them in the fire." She smiled wryly.

"And I would have deserved it if you had. Please." He pulled out her chair, then settled into his. The made small talk as the servants plated dinner and then departed, leaving them alone.

Alistair raised an eyebrow as the door shut. "Alright, so I take it there's something you wanted to lecture me about?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You ordered the servants to leave after they'd served dinner. What's on your mind?" He stuffed some braised fowl into his mouth.

Wynne took a deep breath and got to the point. "I understand Eamon has been bringing a great many noblewomen around for dinner."

Alistair's chewing slowed down, he swallowed. "Yes…"

"Last week Patria Somer came to see me. She wanted to know if she was pregnant." Alistair's expression clouded with something like worry. "Which she wasn't."

"Ah, yes… Patria…"

"And two days ago a young woman named Virala came to me with the same question. I believe her father is an Arl somewhere to the south?"

"Um…. Yes…"

"She's not pregnant either."

Alistair's face fell and he looked away. "I'm a bad man. The Chantry is going to break in here at any moment and accuse me of being an immoral lout. And she'll never speak to me again." The regret in his voice was palpable.

Wynne didn't have to ask who 'she' was. The mage put a comforting hand on her king's shoulder. "How much do you miss her?"

Metaphors piled up in his head, each worse and less accurate than the last. He shook his head. "There are no words for how much I miss her."

Wynne tapped a pondering finger on the table. "Do you have something of hers, maybe something she gave you?"

His mouth curled into a haunted smile. "A few figurines and runestones, her good-bye note. Why?"

Wynne thought a moment. "We all go to the Fade when we dream."

His eyebrows rose with disbelief. "You think I can find her there?"

"Maybe. Keep the items close when you sleep. If she does the same, then just maybe…"

Alistair kissed her cheek. "You're the best almost-grandmother a boy could have." He rose quickly and headed for his bedroom.

The Fade – Near dawn

He stood by a campfire, a familiar cooking pot bubbling over it and a very familiar tent set up beside it. He looked all around him, hoping she would appear. She didn't.

The camp was set on a lone island of rock, floating in the space of the Fade. In the distance he could make out what looked like a fortress, a black fortress. Or the Black City. He suppressed shiver, noticing the fire did not produce any heat.

Something in the tent moved. He went to draw a sword that wasn't there. "Come on out, whatever you are."

"Alistair?" Her voice, her sweet voice, came from the tent. The flap flew aside and there she was, dragonscale armor, braided hair and glowing blue-green eyes. She bit her lip as her eyes met his.

And then she was in arms and he was kissing her. And for a moment, all was right with the universe.

But the moment passed. He could feel her under his hands, but not like he used to. Her kisses weren't quite as warm. He pulled back and caressed her face, along the scar the archdemon had left her, but that sensation wasn't as clear as it should be.

"I've noticed too," she whispered. "It's the Fade, but I'll take it. I'll take any time I can get with you." Her lips returned to his.

Regretfully, he pulled away from her again. "We may not have long. Where are you?"

"The edge of the Silent Plains, with a merchant caravan." She smiled playfully. "They have no idea who I am. It's rather liberating."

"I'm jealous." He smiled wistfully, then thought of something. "Oh, this is important. Fergus came to see me, just after you left."

A wide, relieved smile broke out on her face. With a sigh she leaned her head on Alistair's chest. "I knew he wasn't dead."

"Most definitely not. He punched me, defending your honor."

Elinora giggled. "He always said he would do that."

"He's rebuilding Highever… hey!" Elinora started to fade in his arms. Even as he tried to grasp on to her, she vanished. "Damnit."

The Edge of the Silent Plains – dawn

Elinora awoke to the morning clatter of Bala preparing breakfast. She looked around her; her small tent, her pack and in her hand, Alistair's rose. With a sigh, she kissed it, closed up the box and went on with her day, her spirit just a little lighter.