A/N : When I started writing 'Goodbye, Halcyon Days', I had the very last three chapters already written in mind. It's almost weird to realized I finally got here. Chapter 21 & 22 will be released at the time time, considering 22 will be the Epilogue. I'm a bit sad that this is almost the end! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't hate me too much for it, It was probably one of the hardest thing I had to write.

Thank you Tigress, without you this whole story would have never happened.

All belongs to Bioware

20. Adieu

Alistair had never been an anxious person. Yes, he tended to be nervous from time to time, and very awkward in certain situations mainly involving his fellow warden, but it was mostly caused by his lack of self-assurance. In fact, Alistair was someone who thrived under pressure, most of the time at least. But ever since they had arrived in Denerim and the Landsmeet only a handful of days away, the templar had been nothing but anxious. His mind wandered off and he could barely concentrate on the tasks that were asked of him, he babbled on and on every time Eamon was around, and he simply could do nothing with his body except to fidget it around in a restless manner. The fact that Elizabeth left him grounded at the estate really had not helped either. Keeping his mind off of things would have really soothed his agitation, or swinging his sword at something would have evaporated the stress. But no, his "fearless leader", as Wynne liked to call her, had not listened to a word of his pleas and had ordered him to stay where he was, telling him he could swing his sword at a dummy in the courtyard. If it had not been for Leliana, Alistair would have probably done so.

The bard had insisted that he accompany her to the market. Again. The warden did not know why this Orlesian obsession of pretty things was so carved into the woman's mind , but being dragged along from shop to shop made him almost miss Eamon's company.

"What do you think?", Leliana asked joyfully as she pulled out an orange dress with golden seams from one of the shop's shelves, making him snap out of his petulant stream of thought.

He really wondered how she could do it, be so carefree and untroubled when the Blight was looming over them all. Or with the Landsmeet just a day away.

"I think…", he started, trying to be as pleasant as he could. After all, Leliana was just trying to help him, "I think it will make you look like a giant carrot".

Her whole expression fell as she hastily put away the dress back into place. Alistair couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Lel, I'm joking! It would look great on you…", he smiled, "You know, if you love vegetables to boot."

Leliana shook her head in amusement and walked off to the small jewelry stand across the room. Alistair followed her, dragging his feet.

"So you're not getting it?", he inquired.

"Maybe later…", the bard answered absent-mindly. She was staring with great interest at a pair of gold earrings. "Morrigan would love these!"

Alistair rolled his eyes and groaned at the mention of the witch. His day would have just become the worse day of his life if that pestiferous wretch had tagged along. Lucky for him though, Elizabeth brought her everywhere she went.

"Oh Alistair…", the bard scolded, keeping her eyes on the necklaces, "Don't be so negative. You've been nothing but gloomy for the past few days and it really isn't like you". She raised her blue eyes and added with a playful smile, "Besides, Morrigan isn't that bad."

The warden scoffed. "Hah! You mean she's more of a general offense and needs to be dealt with. Urgently."

Alistair took a few steps away from the bard and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. A couple of seconds passed where he was deep into his thoughts again. But he was soon pulled out of them by Leliana's words.

"For what it is worth, Alistair, I think you would make a great King."

The warden raised his eyes to her in awe. Eamon had told him so many times, but hearing it from one of his friends was oddly… Actually, he wasn't sure how it made him feel. A mixture of comfort, apprehension perhaps, and of course, anxiety.

"I…", he wasn't sure what to answer, "I don't know".

And he truly didn't. Part of him didn't want to be King. Leading was not his thing per sey he had made that very clear to his companions and especially to Elizabeth. But at the same time, he felt that if he had made his way to the Landsmeet intact, it was perhaps for a reason. The Maker only knew the real answer.

"It doesn't matter", he continued, "Elizabeth told Anora she was supporting her".

"Oh", Leliana answered, a faint frown forming on her juvenile face. She shook her head in disapproval and sighed, "I suppose it makes sense."

Alistair frowned, "What makes sense?"

"That she would want to keep her lover around", Leliana replied matter-of-factly, "You can't possibly think your relationship would carry on if you became King?"

The templar pondered on the bards words. She was right, but Alistair couldn't believe Elizabeth would decide such a thing according to her own needs. He also didn't want to talk about it and bid her to change the subject. And so they did. Streaming one last time through the jewelry, Leliana suddenly caught sight of a ring.

"This would suit Elizabeth, I think", she pointed out as Alistair approached her to look at what she had found. And he was surprised to see the bard was right. The ring was made of a polished silver with a large, round emerald supported by tiny black diamonds that circled the green stone and lined the silver band. It was a rather original ring, and its look was rather unique. Alistair brooded over the item for a bit.

"See anything you like?"

He had been approached by the merchant of the store. Tearing his eyes from the ring he realized Leliana had left his side and had made her way back to the carrot dress. He looked back at the merchant, who was smiling at him.

"Er, yes", he pointed to the emerald band, "That ring right there. How much is it?"

The merchant's smile widened. "Ah! Duplicity!"

Alistair frowned, "I'm sorry… What?"

"Duplicty!", the merchant responded with enthusiasm, "That's the name of the ring!". He opened the glass case in which the jewelry lay and delicately took it out to hand it to Alistair so he could take a closer look. "Dwarven-made. I acquired quite by chance actually! Some female dwarf came by my caravan one day as I was travelling the land and sold it to me. Some tragic story of treachery. I don't even remember… Her fiancé had given it to her.", the merchant snorted loudly as he gave an energetic smack on Alistair's back, "You know how dwarfs are! With their back-stabbing and what not!". And on these words, he broke into a thick laugh. Alistair blinked, silent, at the word 'fiancé'.

"This is an engagement ring?", was all he asked.

The merchant groaned.

"It can be whatever in Andraste's dirty knickers you want… It's three sovereigns! But for you, I'll make it 2 sovereigns and 80 silvers.", he gestured to Leliana, "Your friend there is a faithful client."

Alistair looked down at the shiny ring in his palm and studied it for a second. If he gave it to Elizabeth… It didn't have to mean anything. And if she wanted it to mean something, then it would, simple as that! He tried to convince himself that they had time, and yet, another part of him seemed to warn him about being confident in the future. Nothing was certain. Surviving the Blight, was not certain. Perhaps this very ring… Could mean everything.

And so against all odds, he took out his pouch of gold and bought the ring.

As the two companions walked out of the store, Leliana carrying her wrapped up dress in her arms and Alistair putting away the small box which held the ring in his bag, they made their way back to the estate in a rush. The sky was grey and dark, the light almost nonexistent even though it was early afternoon. They did not want to be caught in the rain, and already, a few drops were coming from the sky.

As they approached the gate to the courtyard, Alistair realized Eamon and Elizabeth were standing in the middle, both looking extremely edgy. Had the female warden come back from the Alienage that early?

"There you are!", the arl exclaimed as he made his way to the courtyard. Elizabeth and everyone else had seemed to be waiting for their return. "We need to call the Landsmeet immediately! Go put your armor on! We'll explain on the way!"

.

.

.

.

When Alistair entered his room he saw that his armor had been brightly polished. It proudly stood on the armor stand, the glorious griffons shining on the chestplate. His long sword lay on his tidily arranged desk, and neatly sitting next to it was not his usual Redcliff shield, but a square shaped one. Approaching it, he saw a griffon crusted on the silver large plate and instantly recognized it as Duncan's. Next to it lay a note : Elizabeth's neat and round handwriting.

'My Dearest,

I believe this is rightfully yours. I found it in the Warden's armory and thought it would perfectly mach your armor. It seems Duncan had not taken it with him to Ostagar, or so Riordan told me.

You can thank me later.

Yours eternally,

Elizabeth.'

Running his hand on the smooth metal, he felt a growing lump in his throat. He sighed as his heart filled with affection towards his fellow warden. Truth was, he did not know what he had done to deserve such a blissful love.

He hastily dressed, and grabbing the velvet box which held the ring he had just bought he stuffed it in the pouch that he tied to his belt. He would thank her later. And do so much more, down on one knee.

Elizabeth had never been an anxious person. She was collected and calm by nature. She observed, rather than talked. She considered her options, analyzed the situation, questioning and comparing, but always in a state of complete silence. Her mute behavior had often won her the description of being taciturn and cold. The distance she put between herself and the world had been caused in the past by her constant daydreaming, but was now due to her absolute need to compartmentalize. Over the year, she had grown into a very manipulative woman.

The only reason she had told Anora she was siding with her was because she knew perfectly well the woman was a cold-hearted bitch and that if she had not been assured that her power would remain intact, she would have gladly stabbed them in the back. A family trait, so it seemed. In fact, Elizabeth had found a bit of herself in the woman, so much so that it had been a child's play to decipher her craving to rule. What the warden had not deciphered though, was in fact if the Queen cared or not if her own father lived. Elizabeth had a feeling that if she had told her she was siding with Alistair, the woman would have stood by her father's side at the Landsmeet. But instead, she had supported the wardens, pleading her father's madness.

It startled the female warden greatly.

No, Elizabeth had never been an anxious person, but seeing the traitor of the wardens, general of the passed-away King's armies, hero of River Dane, kneel down before her after she had won their dual, filled her with worry and unease. There was something in his surrender that seemed almost… Genuine. And at that very moment, anxiety filled her whole body and mind.

Elizabeth recognized Anora's terror and desperation as the queen realized her father's life was going to be taken away and that she would not be able to do a thing about it. It seemed she cared, after all. Somewhere, deep inside, Elizabeth recognized the look in her eyes. A look she had worn on her face a year ago. A look she had carried on her journey. A look who's pain was not something she wanted anyone to feel, not even her greatest enemy.

Elizabeth recognized Duncan's teaching in Riordan's words. When the Blight was so close to dooming them all, they should not mistake who the real enemy was. The archdemon, the darkspawn, they were the real threat. If Justice had to be done, it should not be during these troubled times. Elizabeth was not sure why the Grey Wardens were the only ones who could defeat the Blight. She guessed it had something to do with their tainted blood but… What exactly? It was still a mystery. Perhaps making Loghain a Grey Warden would increase their chances if one of them had to fall. Four was better than three after all. And besides, being a Grey Warden was far from the heroic stories you could hear. There was nothing but darkness in the title. Tainted darkness.

Riordan was right : it was not a matter of what they liked, but of what had to be done.

And finally, Elizabeth recognized Alistair's indignation at the very idea of letting Loghain live. She understood. Alistair had always said the Wardens were like a family to him, as odd as it sounded to her. And she herself had spent a whole year planning on making Howe pay for what he had done. Telling Alistair that his retribution was not important would have been hypocritical. But these circumstances were different.
She understood. But there were higher risks at stake. No Orlesian wardens were coming. Only the darkspawn.
And she didn't want die. She didn't want Alistair to die.
He'd understand. He always understood. After all, he loved her, and she, him.

And yet, when she accepted Loghain's surrender, she felt Alistair's righteous anger break like a wave during a violent storm.

"Absolutly NOT. Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed! He haunted us down like animals, he tortured YOU! How can we simply forget that?"

Elizabeth took a shy step towards the agitated warden, her agitated warden, and gently rested her gloved hand on his arm. Her soft touch made him jerk towards her. Her saw in her emerald eyes an urge to trust her, but also a fierce kind of devotion.

"Alistair", her voice was gentle, "Don't. It is not our place. It could be a way for him to pay back for what he has done."

But the warden violently pulled away and took two steps back. His frown held all of his perplexity and fury.

"Being a Warden is an honor, not a punishment! Name him a warden and you cheapen us all!", he brutally cut the air with his arm, "I will NOT stand next to him as a brother. I WON'T!"

His sudden rejection was like a needle digging into the female warden's heart. A shadow passed over her eyes darkening them.

"Being a Grey Warden is a death-sentence and you know it". She had said these words gravely, with all the bitterness she held in her heart. Alistair was acting like a spoiled child who was not getting what he wanted and it infuriated her. But his following statement made her realize how much, in fact, he wanted Loghain dead. And how much he was putting himself before others.

"I didn't want to be King. I still don't. But, if that's what it takes to see Loghain get justice, then I'll do it! I'll take the crown!"

And then Anora pointed out the obvious. Alistair was in fact putting his own selfish desires above the need of his country. Of course, the queen was not objective. And yet. Elizabeth grabbed Alistair and pulled him close, locking her angry eyes into his.

"Get a hold of yourself Alistair. We need him. Four wardens is better than three." But the templar would not hear her out.

"We need him like we need to get stabbed in the back! YOU told me once that I needed to stand up for myself. Well here I am! I'm STANDING! Make ME King, not HER!"

Elizabeth let go of her fellow warden and stepped away in distress, glancing back to Riordan. Why wasn't he helping her out? Why wasn't he trying to get some sense into Alistair? She suddenly felt the whole weight of the world on her weak and tired shoulders, and couldn't do it anymore.

"I'm sorry Alistair…"

His rage at her decision filled her mind with conflict. But his own decision to leave them, to leave her, shook her whole world. Anora spoke, saying exactly what Elizabeth was thinking.

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Alistair."

"You already GOT what you wanted!", the templar's voice was shaky, "Your murdering father gets a place amongst the Grey Wardens. What ELSE would you want from me?"

"Your life, unfortunatly. So long as you live, rebellions can be raised in your name. Our land cannot endure another civil war. I must call for your execution."

The queen gestured to the armed men behind her to seize him. But Elizabeth was faster than any guard in the room and drew her dagger out at the speed of light. She stepped in front of Alistair, raising her weapon in the air and threatening the queen or any other being who would take a step towards them.

"Don't you dare touch him. Don't you dare". Her eyes were dark, her tone cold, and she menaced everyone around with her glare. How could she be so reckless? Of course Anora would wipe out any threat to her rule. Behlen had done so and she had agreed to it. How could she have been so inattentive?

"I don't need you, Elizabeth", she heard Alistair hiss behind her. She could feel a lump in her throat as things were getting out of hand.

"But I need you", was all her cracked voice could say. No, beg.

She was in over her head.

"I am sorry Elizabeth", Anora started, as guards made their way from behind Alistair and grabbed his arms, "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

The female warden glanced back and saw Alistair surrounded by guards. She took a step towards the Queen, her right hand still armed.

"Let. Him. Go." She roared, anger flowing in her blood, "Or you're the one who'll be sorry."

Elizabeth guessed she wouldn't break under simple threats, and she didn't. The woman simply locked her icy blue eyes into hers and shook her head.

"I will kill everything and anything that you ever loved and lay hands on, Maker preserve me, if you don't let him go."

Anora studied the warden close to her for a second and after a moment, ordered her men to step down. She also ordered the templar to resign the throne for himself and any heirs.

His answer was cold as ice.

"I don't want ANYTHING to do with this place or any of you people. EVER. I swear it!", he had turned his amber eyes towards Elizabeth as he had pronounced these last words. They burnt with anger and agony. Hers did too.

"I… I guess this is goodbye. I had no idea it would end like this for us…"

But Elizabeth could not believe him. She would not. Because everything seemed to be a nightmare. Because it felt like she was in a daze.

She remained silent, unable to answer to the only thing she loved in this world. She simply stared at him in distress. She couldn't understand why he was doing this. She wouldn't. And because her mute behavior seemed to mean everything to Alistair, he turned his back to the thing he loved the most in the world and walked away.

"Alistair!"

Her cry reverberated across the hall but he did not turn around. Passing the door, he fled down the stone stairs that led to the streets of the city. Rain was thrashing against him, the violent drops raw on his skin. The storm has come around after all, he thought, as the roaring thunder drummed against the fortress.

"ALISTAIR!"

Elizabeth had run out after him. Of course she had. She was stubborn, bossy, and never took no for an answer. This time around though, she would just have to accept it. Alistair's rapid strides increased as he heard the female warden get closer behind him. He didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to see her anymore. Not ever. But Elizabeth was faster than any woman he knew and she grabbed him by the shoulder, promptly turning him around with force.

She looked devastated and mad, out of her mind. How could he not have seen this earlier? All the signs. All of her pragmatism. Of course she would betray him.

"Don't go", she pleaded. She looked as if she was about to fall on her knees and clasp her hands to the sky, "I BEG you, PLEASE DON'T GO". Her voice was hysterical. She was overwhelmed, in over her head. Things had not been going according to her plan and it drove her crazy. Served her well.

Alistair was out of his mind too, and trembled in anger.

"YOU BETRAYED EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE!", his roar sank into the female warden's ears, "YOU BETRAYED ME! HOW COULD YOU? How… Ah, I can't even look at you…" The templar's voice broke, and he turned his back to Elizabeth. Putting one hand on the closest barrier, he leaned against it as if unable to sustain himself anymore. His heart was breaking inside of his chest and he could barely hold on to his tears. Elizabeth on the other hand, was letting them stream down her face.

"It's me!", she begged, trying to reach out to his hand. But the templar violently drew it away, "I'm not… It's me!". She was confused, she barely believed that Alistair out of everyone would turn his back on her.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth", he muttered, closing his eyes , determined not to let the tears fall down his face, "Take care of yourself". And the warden marched on. But Elizabeth had not said her last word.

"DUNCAN WOULD HAVE BEEN SO PROUD OF YOU DESERTING!"

Her unkind words hung in the air. But that cruelty was nothing but the expression of her profound pain. Alistair stopped mid track. As he turned around he ferociously threw a small velvet box at her face. But Elizabeth was the fastest woman he had ever met and she swiftly appeared before him. Her knife to his throat.

When their eyes met, he saw that her pain had turned into Wrath. Painful wrath, none the less.

"Deserter", she accused him, "You know what we do with Deserters". Alistair just stared into her eyes. These emerald eyes he had once cherished more than anything else.

"I thought you were a Grey Warden", she continued with a solemn voice, "I thought Grey Wardens didn't walk away from a Blight."

He didn't answer. He didn't answer because he knew she was right. Her weapon was still raised to his neck and she stared at him in dismay, her rapid breathing lifting her chest up and down .

"I thought you loved me".

Alistair softly put his hand over Elizabeth's and slowly lowered her knife to her side.

"Well you finally get something right", he breathed in pain, "I loved you".

He looked into her eyes for the last time, and walked away without turning back as the heavy rain continued to fall on Denerim. His words had been as murderous as poison. Elizabeth could feel them running through her veins.

Exhausted, hopeless, she fell to her knees in a puddle of mud. What had she done? Why had he not understood what was at stake? Slowly, his last words numbed the pain that ran through her body. Slowly, all she could feel was only the rain and her wet hair on her face. She looked at the box in her hand. The one Alistair had thrown at her.

And as she opened it, her heart shattered to pieces.