Once upon a time, I began writing this story. It was so long ago, that the name I chose for my Warden had not achieved popularity on a successful TV show (which is about to finish its 5th season). I regret that I have so little time for this story, but let's face it - a single mom, pursuing a Master's degree while working full-time, just can't devote the time that this story deserves. On the plus side, I have new ideas for the future of Cersei and Loghain, thanks to the third Dragon Age game. Hopefully I actually get there before I hit retirement age. I own nothing here, and I hope you enjoy.

Two weeks. Two weeks since the Wardens upended her life. Two weeks until she would be forced from Loghain's side until Maker knew when.

Cersei was currently in one of the training yards at the palace, attempting to work out her frustrations about the inevitable separation. It was her first opportunity to really devote some time to easing back into combat. Sure, Loghain had indulged her in some hand-to-hand sparring, but... well, that usually devolved quickly into passionate kisses and intimate fondlings. They had not yet returned to being lovers in the fullest sense of the word due to the loss of Karac, but Wynne had assured Cersei she would be well soon enough.

Additional warmth, unrelated to her current exertions, flooded her face as she thought about the day she could take Loghain again. Wynne had warned her not to rush into physical intimacy lest she hurt herself, but she couldn't help wonder if she should risk it anyway.

Her thoughts wandered freely, as her swordplay skills had suffered little for her long convalescence. It was actually quite surprising – shouldn't she be fumbling more, or have weaker muscles? Instead, it was as though she had fought the Archdemon only yesterday. Minus, of course, the constant buzz of darkspawn in her veins. Though if what the Wardens told her about the ending of a Blight, she would be experiencing that feeling again soon enough.

She dimly heard low-pitched voices from behind her. She thought it was probably Zevran talking to someone who was undoubtedly on the way to see her. If Loghain was not with her, Zev was always somewhere close by. "Keeping her shapely backside safely in sight," he called it.

She heard Zev – there was no doubt it was him, this time – saying, "Good journey, my friend." Curious, she stopped the movement of her swords and turned toward his voice. The lithe elf was watching her closely (and not a little appreciatively) as Sten approached.

"Shanedan. It is time we part, Warden. I must finally return to give my report to the Arishok."

Cersei was momentarily stunned. "I... I was honored to have you fight at my side, Sten." She hesitantly extended her hand. Sten looked at it for a moment, before grasping it. He then pulled her into an unexpected and slightly awkward one-armed clasp, patting her firmly on the back. After a moment, he stepped back.

"The honor was mine, kadan. May we never meet in battle."

"I can appreciate that sentiment, Sten. I certainly would not relish having to put you in your place again." She winked, and chuckled. The qunari had not expected to be so thoroughly trounced by a small slip of a human girl when he foolishly decided to question her strategies.

He nodded at her, before saying, "Panahedan, basalit-an. Remember – ataash vann kata."

She rolled her eyes and groaned, saying, "You know I don't speak your language, Sten!"

He smiled enigmatically, before bowing. Then he turned and left as silently as he had arrived.

Cersei stared after Sten for several long moments. Then she looked to Zevran, who simply shrugged before flashing a disarming smile at her. She shook her head, but couldn't keep a return smile off her face. Stupid elf, being so charming all the time...

She turned back to the practice dummy and resumed her attempts to defeat the inanimate object. Her mind began to wander again. Sten was gone now. Morrigan was in the wind – who even knew if she would ever be heard from again? The loss pained her, though she was hesitant to admit it. The acerbic apostate had certainly grown on her, and she missed her dearly. And she knew the mage deserved her thanks. It was inconceivable that she had survived the slaying of the Archdemon without Morrigan's intervention.

A wave of exhaustion hit her, and she stumbled. As she struggled to recover her footing, she realized she was going to fall and probably fall hard. Her swords clattered to the ground as she pitched forward—

Only to be caught by two strong, tanned arms before her face met the dirt.

"Mia bella, surely you know to watch your footing by now, yes?"

She looked up at his twinkling eyes, and he winked at her. Then his face quickly sobered. "Dearest Warden, are you hurt? What happened?"

She pushed herself upright. "I don't know. I mean... no, I'm not hurt. But I don't know what happened. I'm just suddenly so tired."

The elf's brow furrowed in concern. Without another word, he swept her up into his arms and started to quickly walk towards her room.

"Zev, I hardly think this is necessary—"

"Hush, my dear. I will have you comfortable ensconced in your bed before you know it. You shall be smelling your pillows momentarily."

She turned crimson (which was much more obvious than it would have been six months ago before she lost her tan). Of course Zevran would know she sniffed the bedding for Loghain's scent when he was not with her. Ah well. At least he wasn't laughing at her. Probably because her sniffing Loghain's pillow was no stranger than his fetish for the stench of leather.

Once he had her back in her quarters, he quickly poured her a glass of water before turning to leave.

"Wait, Zev. Where are you going?"

"Surely you would like for me to fetch your fellow Warden, no?"

She shook her head lazily. "It's alright. I'll be fine. Why don't you sit with me, instead? Tell me stories, like you used to do in camp."

He laughed, rather amused. "My dear, I believe I have already told you all of the interesting stories that I have. Perhaps, instead, you would like to be the storyteller for once?"

She cocked her head to the side and pondered his request for a moment. "You know Zev, I think you've earned the right to hear a few stories from me. What would you like to hear?"

His face lit up with excitement. She already knew what was going through his head. "DO NOT dare to ask about my sex life, either!"

He pursed his lips in what she knew was a fake pout. "Mia bella, you wound me. After so much time basking in your glory and worshiping your very voluptuous body, do I not deserve just a hint of the wonders you are surely capable of performing in bed?"

She laughed. "You wish. No," and she sobered abruptly, "I think I'm ready to share the story of the night my family was killed..."

Zevran sat at her side and reached for her hand as she began to speak, haltingly at first but eventually with a stronger voice. By the time she was done, most of the daylight was gone from the room and he had a greater respect for her – which he had not believed possible. His lovely Warden was the strongest person he had ever known. She was reclining against her pillow, gazing at the window as she ended her story.

"You know..." she began, "I just wish... I mean, I left my parents behind. I should have stayed with them. But at the same time, I recognize how vital it was that I survived. I hate to sound egotistical, but how else could the Blight have been ended?"

Zevran chuckled lightly. "It is true, my dear Warden. Without you, we would all be drowning in darkspawn." He frowned slightly. "I believe, in fact, that the title 'The Hero of Ferelden' is quite well deserved. You are our savior."

She reached over and lightly slapped his arm. "Oh stop it. You know I could never have stopped the Blight without my dashing assassin at my side! I would have probably given up if not for you constantly telling me how incredibly amazing I am."

He smiled gently. "I say it because it is true."

She turned to look at him. He held her gaze, and just as she opened her mouth to respond the door opened.

"Cersei, love." Loghain entered, carrying a rather large tray of food in one hand.

Zevran stood. "And with your dear Warden's return, I believe I shall depart." He scooped up her hand and placed a kiss on it before quickly leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Cersei immediately began grabbing food the instant Loghain set it down. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was. Her appetite had been rather nonexistent lately – perhaps that was why she nearly fainted while training? She began humming without realizing it, content with the food that was rapidly disappearing into her mouth. She suddenly noticed that Loghain was watching her expectantly – had he said something?

She swallowed quickly, and said, "What?"

He smiled faintly. "My lady, do try and pay attention." She rolled her eyes, and mock glared at him. He winked at her, and continued. "I received some news today." His face sobered, and he reached for one of the mugs that was in front of them. After a long swallow, he said, "I am to leave tomorrow. Anora has ordered me south..."

Cersei started choking on her own saliva. "What in the bloody hell do you mean? South where? Why?" A look of panic was on her face. "I only have two weeks left with you, why is she doing this? Is it because I made her marry Alistair?"

He almost laughed at that. Almost.

"No. I am going to Gwaren. Anora would like for me to recover anything I can from our old home. And the area still has darkspawn that need to be cleared."

Cersei had an ugly look on her face. "Just because she is queen doesn't mean she can command you. I am your commander, not her."

"Indeed you are, yet the newly arrived Wardens are rather in favor of this plan. Who better to clear the darkspawn from my former terynir than the man who doomed it through lack of support?" He grimaced as he said this.

"Loghain..."

"Don't get that tone with me, in this case they are absolutely correct. While I was... attempting to run this country, I all but abandoned Gwaren. And the area was completely overrun. It is my duty to return and clear the darkspawn."

Cersei furrowed her brow. "All right, then I'm coming with you."

"No. Out of the question."

"What? Excuse me, but you do NOT command me, Loghain. Or did you forget that it's actually the other way around?"

He grimaced. "I may not command you, love, but the other Wardens do. Frederick is still lurking 'round these parts, and he has passed on these orders to you." With that, he pulled a roll of vellum out of his waistband. And how had she not noticed it sticking out when her eyes had wandered south of his navel earlier? He held it out to her, and she stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before hesitantly taking it from him.

She looked up at him, and held his gaze as she unrolled the undoubtedly ridiculous missive. Finally, she looked down to read it. His heart broke at the defeated look that suddenly marred her features.

"I... I have to stay in Denerim. I must undergo testing to ensure I am still fit to command the Grey Wardens. I suppose they must have realized my fighting skills are... well, rusty, to say the least."

"Cersei, your fighting skills are still exceptional. But regardless of whether you need testing of your skills, I fear a journey south and the subsequent fighting would be too much. You are barely recovered from the loss of our son, and I for one am glad you have this rest period imposed on you." He chuckled. "You push yourself far too hard, my dear."

She rolled her eyes. "I hardly consider a demonstration of my capabilities to be a rest period, Loghain."

He scoffed. "Rubbish, and you know it. Six weeks of sleep was not near enough to dull your senses or lessen your formidable skills with a blade. Or two, as it were. If you would simply eat a bit more, you would be in top form."

She stared at him for a moment, before smirking. "You're right, you cheeky bastard. Alright, feed me then. Not that," she said, as he reached for an apple. "No, I need some meat. A lot of meat. All of the meat, actually."

He laughed at that, and rose to move to her side of the table. Kneeling before her, he gently took her hands and moved to kiss her. She practically purred with happiness; he wondered how he had ever earned so much as a second glance from his redheaded beauty, let alone actual purring. My little minx...

A week had passed. Cersei ate better, and trained in the yard with both dummies and Zevran every day. It was true, none of her skills had diminished even though she had been stuck in bed for weeks on end. Loghain had been gone for most of the last week, and she missed him. Hopefully he would return from his mission before she had to leave for Amaranthine; however, she had yet to hear from him so she was uncertain how long he would be gone. She was currently sitting at the small table in the quarters she had shared with Loghain, staring at a piece of vellum and wondering if it was worth it to attempt a letter to her beloved. A knock sounded at the door, interrupting her musing.

"Yes?"

Zevran slipped into the room. "Mia cara, I believe it is time to demonstrate your skills to your fellow Wardens."

She wrinkled her nose. "But Zev, I don't want to! I slayed the bloody Archdemon, isn't that good enough for these great bloody arses?"

The elf threw his head back and laughed. "Ah, my dear Warden, you have such a way with words!"

She began chuckling. "I know, I sound like a petulant child right now. But in all honesty, what's the point?"

Zevran looked at her thoughtfully. "Perhaps, mia dea, they do not believe it was you that defeated the Archdemon. You need only show them how very wrong they are."

Rolling her eyes, Cersei said, "Zev, you have to stop using these beautiful sounding Antivan epithets unless you are prepared to tell me exactly what they mean. But... I know I have to go show off to these other Wardens."

He smiled at her. "You know I would never call you anything that did not reflect your beauty or magnificence. Do not fret, my dear. These Wardens will never know what hit them."

Zevran motioned toward the door, and Cersei reluctantly rose from her seat. She blew a raspberry at the lithe elf, before moving quickly towards the door. He followed her, of course; his sense of devotion would allow nothing less.

Cersei called over her shoulder as she moved, "Where am I meeting them? The training yard?"

"Yes."

She smirked, and broke into a run. It had been a long time since she had run, but she was confident she would leave the elf far behind. As she reached the door for the yard, however, she was somewhat dismayed to discover Zevran was only two steps behind her. "Well. You're no fun, you filthy Antivan rascal."

Zevran just smirked at her as she pushed through the door. The foreign Wardens were waiting for her, as was Alistair. Ugh. That can't be good...

Frederick was polite as he commanded her to perform certain moves. She moved quickly, always striking with maximum force and minimum effort. I'm quite good at this. Too bad Loghain isn't here to marvel at my amazing moves.

Just as she thought the Wardens would get bored watching her master everything they threw at her, the Orlesian bitch decided to chime in. "Warden Cousland, I feel we will only be able to assess your skills against a live target. King Alistair has agreed to indulge us in this matter."

Cersei slowly turned to face Genevieve. "What? I am to attack my former brother-in-arms, the current King of Ferelden? Are you mad?"

Genevieve smiled. "If you are half as good as you imagine," she began, causing Cersei to bristle, "It should be no trouble to defeat him in combat. Your command rests on your ability to do so."

Cersei looked at Alistair. His face was clouded; clearly this training match troubled him. She slowly arched one eyebrow at him – what did he intend to do?

His eyebrow arched in response, and a slight grin tugged at one side of his mouth. She knew what that meant – they were going to play at battle. They had done so often in the party camp during the Blight, and she suddenly realized there was no reason they could not continue to do so now.

Alistair slowly drew his blade – or should she say, Duncan's blade. She had retrieved it for him when they returned to Ostagar. He held it up to his face as she pulled Starfang from its sheath, as well as the secondary sword she used in combat. He winked at her, before moving to engage her in combat.

Cersei and Alistair walked down the hall towards her room, Zevran trailing behind them. They were laughing and joking with each other with an ease they hadn't felt since before the Landsmeet.

"Did you see their stupid faces when you had me from behind? They seriously thought you had me, until I knocked Duncan's sword flying towards their legs!"

Alistair laughed even louder. "And when you took that flying leap at me, and knocked me onto my back – do you think they knew that that move started when you were trying to steal my cheese one night?"

She giggled. "Ah, Alistair, sometimes I miss the days of the Blight." He sobered quickly, as did she. "Alistair... You were my closest friend for well over a year. I know you don't necessarily approve of my current... companion. But I still love you and hope we can one day be as close as we were then."

Alistair grimaced slightly, before smiling again. "Cersei, it's true Loghain is not not – nor will he ever be – one of my favorite people. But you are. Everything I am today, I am because of you. And I love you as well. Now," he said, as they drew close to her door, "I am glad you have successfully become the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. I expect you will be departing for Amaranthine soon?"

She sighed. "I honestly don't know. I had hoped to hear from Loghain before I left. Or, even better, to see him. But I believe I shall be departing in a week's time, regardless of what he's doing."

He reached for her hand. "Well, believe me when I say that I shall miss you dearly. You get to traipse off and have all the fun while I'm stuck in this castle, passing down judgments and gorging myself on fine cheeses."

She squeezed his hand, and reached up to kiss his cheek. "I hope I will see you before I depart, but if not... it has been an honor to fight with you, Alistair."

He smiled again, and said, "I know."

As he turned to walk away, he felt something hit his back and chuckled. Of course she would throw something at him.

She entered the room and almost immediately noticed a letter on her table. She sensed Zevran enter the room behind her as she picked up the rolled missive; if she was honest, she was afraid of what the letter would say.

My dearest Warden-Commander,

Gwaren is nothing like I remember. So many abandoned houses, half-burned fields, and corpses littering the land. I regret to inform you that the darkspawn are still quite numerous – not enough to overwhelm, but enough that I fear I shall not return to Denerim before you must depart. Please believe me when I say that I ache for you, and despise the wretched beasts that keep us apart for the few hours we may have enjoyed each other's company. If I am unable to return, know that there is no force in Thedas that will keep me from stopping in Amaranthine to spend a few precious hours with you before the Wardens force me from this country I love almost as much as you.

Be wary, my love. Something is not right. I have not been a Warden for long, but even I know the lingering darkspawn pose a most unusual threat. Why haven't they retreated? It is a question I cannot answer, and that frightens me.

I love you always, no matter our paths in life.

Warden Loghain Mac Tir

She sighed, a long shuddering thing that betrayed her hurt. Zevran crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, before turning and wrapping her arms around him in return. She would have to prepare for life as the Warden-Commander without the man she loved, and it scared her.

"Zev... will you come with me?"

The crow knew what she was talking about – he always did. "Of course. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. And Loghain would have my ears if he knew I abandoned you."

She shuddered. That was a rather gruesome image. "I rather like your ears. I would hate for you to lose them over me. I suppose you better fill in as my interim second-in-command."

He scoffed. "I am only an elf, my dear."

She pulled back, and looked at him with a critical eye. "No, you aren't. You are one of my closest friends. And you are deadly, with blades and poisons and stealth... the Wardens could learn much from you. Yes," she continued with a smile, "I think you will make an excellent teacher."

"Oh, mia bella. Only for you would I agree to train others in the art of death. You know I will do anything you desire. But for now, it is getting late, and I know the Wardens did not notice your exhaustion. But I did. Now you must rest... and I must make some inquiries while you sleep. I shall be here when you awake, though."

He raised one hand to brush hair out of her face, then turned to leave the room. She heard him murmuring to a guard in the hall – undoubtedly he was setting a watch. She glanced at Loghain's letter again, before beginning to remove her armor to relax for the evening. She would need plenty of rest, since she now had a week to prepare for a forced move from the capital. And if Loghain did not grace her with his presence at Amaranthine... well, she would just have to move mountains to find him. Or maybe just stow away on a ship to Orlais.