Alistair observed the small specks of dust floating in the sunlight the next morning as he rested in the bed at Skyhold. But this time he was not alone. He savored the moment with Caoilainn as she curled up under his arm, finally sound asleep. Deeply touched by the vulnerability she showed in what she admitted, and then as she cried herself to sleep, he was appreciative. He saw that her resentment ran deep, and he knew he was not responsible. None of his actions meant to harm her, and she would realize that with time. The clarity he gained for himself and the woman he loved came with their time apart, time alone.

Caoilainn did not realize that her connection to the Grey Wardens, her constant link to them, and them to each other, through the Taint in their blood was something he had learned to live without. It was a part of him he had to grieve the loss of when he left her at Vigil's Keep. The loneliness caused by the sudden absence of the hum of the union that became so vital to his life once he completed his Joining was devastating. He rejoiced when she returned to the castle. Willing to pretend he didn't know about her affair, contented by the reunion with the familiar spark of the Grey Warden connection, Alistair thought he would regain that part. And he did, at first. It was all he could ask for, and when they failed miserably to have a child and her depression worsened, she took it away. Again, he was alone.

'Blood of my blood,' she called her Wardens. Caoilainn seemed to forget that he too shared that bond of blood, long before she was the Mother of Griffons .

The anger he felt toward Caoilainn when she left the castle did not subside for years. His anger grew to rage, and collapsed into despair, sorrow, and pain. Losing his wife, and his last connection to the Grey Wardens when she disappeared into the night. And he knew exactly where she went as soon as he realized she was missing. Vigil's Keep was her sanctum and once there, she would be unreachable. It was heartbreaking to discover he could not meet the needs she had filled as commander, and to be deserted yet again as a Grey Warden.

None of his advisors speak of the time after Caoilainn disappeared from the castle. The King's outbursts and fits of violence, often at the influence of alcohol, were numerous. There were also days at a time when he didn't leave his room. But at some point, he shifted. He stopped drinking, upheld his responsibilities as King by attending meetings, permitting audiences, signing treaties, and he returned to his combat training. Over time, the pain of losing Caoilainn faded. Or more specifically, it morphed into impetus. He took care of himself, made his own decisions, and stopped writing to her, accepting that he would not receive a reply. He kept his scouts at Vigil's Keep and gathered information about her. But what had been an obsession, an attempt to control the unruly woman, became a chance to learn about her.

And that was not his priority. It was merely a factor of a whole and he refused to lose himself again to her indifference. The new outlook developed as he hardened in his grief. He would no longer be stepped on, walked all over by his advisors or his wife. He would no longer be a pawn. Rather than resent her for his callousness, he was grateful to Caoilainn. Her leaving, his disconnection from the Grey Warden blood tie, it all empowered him. He became the king he wanted to be, not who he was told to be. It was liberating. The castle and kingdom was required to adapt as he held his ground, changing policies and no longer acting on the whim of others. He was consistent. The only person left to experience the new version of him was Caoilainn.

Despite her selfishness and her immaturity masked as a bullheaded and gorgeous queen who always got her way, he loved her fiercely. Unsure of his belief in soulmates, his need for her in his life was irrefutable. She was his mirror. Without her, he would not know where he needed to improve. Caoilainn challenged him, his patience, his commitment, his love, and he needed that.

He maintained unsettling clarity of this fact, and it founded his stability. When she was ready, he would tell her about what happened when she left and what he came to understand of himself. But for now his goal was to break through the walls she established, fortified, and strengthened. Because those walls were thick and reinforced, he knew of the requirement of his self-control and persistence. Alistair welcomed the challenge.


She stirred under his arm, blinked and looked up to him, embarrassed. Her eyes were puffy from a night of crying and dark circles showed the poor quality of rest she received. The best of her sleep being in the last few hours before daybreak. With a groan, Caoilainn laid on her back, looking up to the ceiling. Her mind a mixture of thoughts, confusion, fear of what Alistair would expect of her now that she had opened up to him. Distressed with this idea and angry with herself for allowing its potential, she closed her eyes in hopes it would go away.

"We have a meeting with the Inquisitor and her council today," he said calmly, professionally. She heard the vigilance in his tone.

"I need a bath," she replied, not directly responding to his comment but identifying what she desired before that could happen.

"Ah yes. Preferably with bubbles and a glass of wine?" He joked at her request, remembering her favorite way to unwind in the castle.

"If only," she laughed lightly, longingly. "I suppose a bucket of water and a cloth will have to do." She rose from the bed, her lean form visible under her chemise as the light shone on her; gooseflesh appeared on her exposed arms and legs as it met the cold air. When she reached the sink, she brought the cold water to her face, several times. She was grateful for the coolness soothing the puffiness of her eyes and awaking her nerves.

"I'll just lay here and watch," Alistair sat up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. His hands came to rest behind his head. He was in his small clothes. The defined muscles of his bare arms, chest and stomach were obvious.

Caoilainn turned to look at him, mildly annoyed but mostly amused. Pleased with what she saw, her attempt to stifle her smile failed. "Don't you have King things to do?"

"They can wait," he shrugged with a grin.

The attractiveness of the half-naked man lying on her bed was indisputable, and that confounded her. "Well your little peep show will have to wait. I have to get to the training yard and direct my Wardens since I'm short a lieutenant." Testing the tension between them, she was curious of how he would react to her words.

He was silent as he stared at her with a smile that she couldn't read. Unable to define if it was sarcastic, annoyed, or genuine, her heart fluttered.

Then Alistair rose from the bed. Her stomach tightened. Is this fear? Excitement? What the fuck is he doing?

With slow steps, and unflinching eye contact, he came to her. She stood frozen, and he stood close. Her head tilted back as she looked up to him, regaining control, her arm pressed lightly against his muscled chest. Her voice a plea for space, "Alist…."

He didn't let her finish. His large hand weaved through her hair and his head bowed to meet hers. His kiss, forceful and passionate, screamed of a merciless love. It staggered her, and she welcomed it, devoured it, without inhibition. When it was over she was still, overcome. He gave a smile, kissed her forehead, and walked to his belongings on the other end of the room.

A blank stare, startled by her own pleasure, she watched studiously as Alistair dressed, part of her still waiting for his response to her plans for the day. When he was fully clothed, he walked to the door and turned to look at her. Grinning, but undoubtedly serious, he informed: "You'll give me that show tonight, my love."

Her stomach danced with elation and she nodded dumbfounded. "...Yes, my King." The words fell out of her mouth on their own accord. Caoilainn's hands covered her lips in response to the shock of what she just said.

His smile widened, and he bowed his head before he left the room.


Flabbergasted, excited, Caoilainn recovered from the interaction and dressed. She went to the Grey Warden training yard to direct the Wardens and prepare them for the departure for the Arbor Wilds that would occur in the next few days. Orders given to other lieutenants to lead training, and herself directing the warriors. She practiced with her longsword and dagger. Previously Duncan's longsword and dagger. It was something she rarely got the chance to do, but her years spent battling darkspawn and acting as commander proved effective. Her skill with her blades had not diminished.

But today, her mind kept wandering back to Alistair. Back to their communication that morning, the smile he gave as he watched her at the sink, his kiss. Her stomach continued to flutter anxiously as she thought of what he might require of her that night. It was irritating. The interfering thoughts caused her to miss numerous opportunities to parry as she practiced. It required overwhelming effort to block the thoughts and focus on her training. Disappointed with her performance, she spoke with another officer of the Wardens and gave orders to continue without her. She made her way into Skyhold for the meeting with the Inquisitor, aware of the terribly inconvenient distraction Alistair would be. Part of her was giddy. Another loathed the experience she expected and the personal weakness she saw within herself.


Just before dawn, the Grey Wardens rose and packed their camp. The night passed with no threats from any bandits, animals, or other enemy. Silent and diligent, the group broke down the camp and loaded their horses without needing orders from Nathaniel. When they finished, Nathaniel called the group to a circle.

"Wardens, we're making good time. Keep it up. The earlier we can get there, the more time we have to survey the area for risks. We must be cautious and thorough. Our archer, Isenam," he gestured to one of the Elven archers in their party, "will help us navigate the Arbor Wilds." The archer nodded his head in a respectful reply. "We are a safeguard to the Inquisition and we have an advantage with our skills as scouts. And some of us," he looked at Hale with authority and she shifted her weight onto her left leg. "Have the opportunity to learn more about how Grey Wardens do things." He took a deep breath and scanned the members' reactions. All looked ready, determined as Grey Wardens should. Then he raised his fist to his chest and met their eyes. "The motto," he directed.

The group sang their motto together, united by their bond and the depth of their words. "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice."

"Let's ride!" Nathaniel called as they separated and went to their mounts.


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