The Pale of Dawn

Mist lingered on the road between Amaranthine and Highever, even when the sun should have burned it away. Tendrils snaked through the horses' legs like insubstantial snakes, and I couldn't shake the aura of creepiness. I found myself casting about for darkspawn, the regular checks an automatic response to the general feeling of unease. But there was nothing, and none of the other Wardens seemed concerned.

At my back marched the contingent of my guards who had traveled to the Vigil, plus Oghren's force, a hundred-strong. It wasn't much of any army, not yet, but it was a start. Eamon had ridden for Denerim at the same time we'd left for Highever, to oversee the necessary changes in the capitol. Part of me thought that perhaps I should be the one operating out of Denerim, but we'd agreed that my place was at the head of the army. He knew how to be an administrator; I knew how to be a warrior. I prayed he would be safe as he implemented my proclamation.

The gates to the northern port city were already open as we approached, and my retinue was greeted by rows of Highever's men, their armor gleaming, their stances straight and strong. Fergus Cousland met us at the entrance to the castle, his face somber. I noted, however, that his limp had completely disappeared. An image of Kiann working her magic danced through my head, but I couldn't indulge in the memory. Resolutely, I pushed it aside.

"Your Majesty." He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head. "Please accept my best wishes for your wife's recovery."

I hopped down from my horse, forcing my legs not to react to suddenly being on firm ground again. "She won't recover, Fergus," I said bluntly, handing off the reins to a page that trotted up.

"She--" The Teyrn blinked, frowning. "When I heard she was alive following the attack, I assumed that meant she was regaining her strength. That's not so?"

I clenched my jaw for an instant, then relaxed the muscles. "Kiann is dying. The mages have assured me it is only a matter of time, so I…I've said my goodbyes."

"Maker's breath, Alistair." Fergus stumbled sideways a step at the impact of the news. "How long?"

"Not long." I narrowed my eyes. "We ride to war, Teyrn Fergus."

"So your message said. I won't lie, your Majesty." His gaze was troubled. "This is not an action I ever expected to take. But Highever stands at your side, as always. My men are ready to march."

I inclined my head. "Thank you."

Fergus's brows twitched as he considered me, then he nodded as well. "Come, your Majesty. Dinner awaits. And then, perhaps, you could fill in some of the details of what's transpired? I've heard the main points, but…sweet Andraste. I'm so sorry, Alistair." The Teyrn clapped a hand to my shoulder, a breach of protocol from what Eamon kept trying to drill into me, but the man seemed to put as much weight on blasted noble propriety as I did.

I let his sympathy wash over me but refused to let it sink in. When this was over…when it was done…then I would allow myself the luxury of mourning. "Thank you, Fergus," I said, my voice even and clear. "Supper would be most welcome after our hard ride today."

"To the dining room, then." The Teyrn gestured for me to precede him, and we ventured into Highever Castle.

###

She angled her face toward the sky, basking in the warmth of the sun. Wind played with the soft strands of her hair, pushing them to caress her face like a lover's fingers. The tips of her ears poked through the russet length and I just barely resisted the urge to reach out and tweak one of them. She hated that, most of the time. In bed, though…in bed, attention given to her ears made her melt and moan, which in turn did crazy things to me. My breath caught as sorrow flashed through me, but it didn't last. The sun was warm, the breeze was gentle, and we'd managed to steal some time, just the two of us.

"Do you know, I don't think we've ever gone on a picnic before."

I looked up from pouring Kiann a glass of wine and smiled. "It's a perfect day for it."

She took the goblet and sipped, her eyes twinkling at me over the rim. "This is quite the lovely picture."

"Isn't it?" I leaned back on my elbows, enjoying being in regular clothes instead of armor or those gaudy noblemen's outfits they wore at court. The deep blue of the sky was marred only by wisps of clouds, and they added to its perfection rather than detracting from it. "I wish we had more days like this."

My wife's eyes darkened and she looked down at her goblet. "Me too."

I wondered at the sudden change in her mood for a moment, but just a moment. She suddenly looked up at me and closed the distance between us, straddling me and taking my mouth with a fervor that shocked me. After a moment's hesitation, I returned her fire with some of my own, my arms skimming up her ribs to her full breasts…

Wait. When had we gotten undressed?

"Kiann," I breathed against her lips. Her core rubbed against my hard length and I nearly forgot what I wanted to say, why it was important. I grabbed her upper arms and held her away. "Kiann, how…?"

She pressed forward, and I let her. She brushed her lips against mine, a sad, soft gesture. "It's a dream, love."

"A dream?" I pushed her away once more and stared at her. I could feel the heat of the sun on my naked body. Her scent and that of the grass and the earth surrounded us. Where we were nearly joined, I could feel the slickness of her, the pulsing of her need and mine.

"A dream." She leaned forward, straining against my hold, and kissed me once again. "Don't waste it."

"But…" I groaned as her tongue danced with mine. Her hips moved, and I slid along her opening, and, Maker, it felt so damn good. So damn right. "No…you're not real. You're a demon of some kind. A…sweet Andraste," I moaned as she lifted her hips and sheathed me in one stroke.

"Alistair, you're not a mage," she said, her breathing uneven as she rode me. "And you're in the Fade on your own. No demons can reach you."

My fingers tightened on her hips and I stared up at her, my heart in my throat. "Kiann? It's really you?"

"Yes, love." Her voice carried the same sadness lodged in my throat. "It's me."

"Oh, holy Maker." I rose up and gathered her close, pressing kisses to her face, her neck, everywhere I could reach. My hands cupped her cheeks. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Alistair." She nuzzled my neck, her teeth nipping along my collarbone. "Make love to me. Please."

Carefully, tenderly, I pushed her back onto the grass. It was as soft as any feathery mattress I'd slept on, and the smell of earthy, green things was the perfect accompaniment to what we were doing. I moved inside of her in long, slow, easy strokes, kissing her thoroughly, whispering nonsense words of love. I wanted it to last, forever if it could, but the hitching breaths emanating from her lips, the whimper-cries told me she was cresting, and spurred me to increase my tempo.

"Love you, Kiann." The words tumbled from my lips over and over again, as if saying them would convince her to stay with me. "I love you. I love you so much."

She came with a cry and a sob, her hands clutching into my back. I welcomed the sting of her fingernails, because it meant that this was more than just a dream; this was real, this was happening between the two of us. If nothing else, the Maker had given us a little more time.

My own climax overtook me suddenly and I thrust deeply inside of her. Her legs wrapped around my hips, holding me to her as tight as she could as the aftershocks of her orgasm thundered through her. Her muscles rippled around me, sending additional bursts of pleasure though my body.

I shifted onto my side, withdrawing, and pulled my wife into my arms. She draped herself across my chest, bonelessly, in a position we'd shared so many times before.

"You'd think I'd recognize the Fade," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her soft hair. My arms banded about her, holding her in place, as if my hold alone could keep us together.

"You didn't before, remember?" She kissed my chest, nuzzled me just under my collarbone. "You were absolutely convinced you were in your sister's kitchen, and she was making pies for dinner. I must say, you were awfully cute."

"Cute?" I sighed, my lips curving just a little. "I suppose there are worse things to be called. And if I recollect," I said, my voice deepening in mock anger, "you did say some other not-so-nice things about my intelligence."

"You were this close to not believing me, Alistair." She pushed her head up, crossing her arms over my chest so she could look me in the eye. "I was frustrated."

"You're forgiven. Just--" Reality crashed down on me, stealing my breath and the afterglow. "Don't leave me, Kiann."

Her mouth twitched downwards. "I don't want to, love. Please believe that. But…I can't quite find my way back. I'm there, and yet I'm not. I heard you, and I hear Anders and Wynne, and, Maker's breath, I want to open my eyes so badly, but I can't. I can't, damn it."

"But why…" I sucked in a breath, not knowing if I wanted the answer to my question, but I forged ahead anyway. "Why are you here? Now? Is this…is this goodbye?" My voice cracked on the last.

She flattened her palm against my cheek, her grey eyes stormy with sorrow. "No. Not…not yet, anyway. I'm still breathing, and as long as I am, I will come to you, here. If you sleep…which you haven't been doing much of, lately."

"Oh. Good point." My sleep had been restless, hardly worthy of the name, and I guess it had kept me from the Fade. "You're here now, I'm here now, and I refuse to waste any of our moments together, Kiann." I gently flipped her onto her back and watched her for a handful of heartbeats before tenderly kissing her.

"I was hoping you would say that, my love," she whispered, her eyes full. "But, Alistair…Zevran is waiting for you."

I frowned. "What?"

And I was looking shadows spilling across my empty bed instead of my wife's tattooed face. No. Not yet. I wasn't ready to go. I pounded a fist into the mattress as a growl of frustration and loss rose in my throat.

"Your Majesty."

I launched myself out of bed and had my hand around the assassin's throat before he could dart away. My fingers squeezed, just enough to let the elf know I could crush his windpipe if I chose to. Zevran's light hazel eyes bore into mine, and I saw nothing there but understanding.

"I interrupted a good dream, I take it?" he said, his low voice the only indication of his discomfort.

The grasp on his throat tightened briefly before I released him, shoving him away from me. "Give me one reason not to call my guards," I growled.

"Because I would be gone before they were able to dash to your rescue. Alistair…" The elf surprised me by crumpling back against the wall, his head bowed. "I had no idea they would continue trying after I refused to honor the contract."

"So it was the Chantry that hired you." It didn't shock me.

"It was. When the Grand Cleric summoned me, she told me that Teyrn Cousland was working against the best interests of the nation. I suspected that the real reason she wanted him dead was that she wanted you on the throne. And that would be a good thing, no? I assumed…" His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "I assumed I had the most up-to-date information on the situation after Anora's unfortunate accident. I knew you'd been put forth as her successor and you'd tentatively accepted it, but I had not heard about your intentions regarding Kiann. If I had known, Alistair…"

I leaned against one of the bedposts, my arms crossed over my bare chest. "Why are you here, Zev?"

He glanced up at the nickname reserved for friends, and some of the self-torment in his eyes lessened. "To right wrongs and do good deeds, of course. All of the things you and Kiann introduced me to so long ago."

I arched a brow. "You want to join my army?"

"No, your Majesty." He bowed down with a flourish. "The Antivan Crows wish to join your army."

"The--what?" I blinked. "The whole order? Zev--" My hands fell to my sides. "I'm flattered, but…is that smart?"

"No less intelligent than accepting a contract without the entire picture clear to me, my friend." The elf's lips curved in a self-deprecating smile. "You are gathering your forces just past Orzammar, yes? The Crows shall be there when you need us. Perhaps before you do. Maybe we can strike some fear and confusion amidst the enemy."

"Zev, I--" I took a deep breath, then reached out my hand for him to grasp. "Thank you."

He clasped my forearm. "Alistair, it is the very least I can do. The Chantry will not escape justice on this. I swear it." He turned to the window.

"You can go out the door." I chuckled.

"And raise questions about the King's sexual inclinations?" Some of the familiar light returned to the assassin's eyes as my smile dropped. "If you insist."

I cleared my throat. "Right. Out the window with you, then."

Zev's shoulders shook with silent laughter as he left the way he'd entered.

I sank into a chair by the softly glowing fireplace and cradled my head in my hands. Zevran risked an incredible amount to break the traditional non-partisanship of his organization and get involved in political dealings outside of Antiva. Certainly, the Crows were known to take contracts on either side of a war, but to openly ally themselves with one of the nations…. Maker, I hoped he knew what he was doing.

The bed called to me, the knowledge that I might be able to find my way back to Kiann a strong temptation. But false dawn lit the eastern sky, and there was no time for selfish indulgences.

"Soon, love," I whispered, and rose from the chair to prepare for the day.