Chapter 20

They stole away from New Lothering very soon after Catriona awoke. Now that he had Saóirsè fully at his side Alistair was keen to return to Denerim and put paid to the untrue news of their untimely deaths. Along with that task there was much to be done. Anora had to be handled in some way. Alistair wondered if they might be able to annul their marriage, but was unsure if that would be permitted given that they had been married for three years. If the matter of his happiness wouldn't swing it, he would have to remind them of the fact that Saóirsè had provided an heir with ease, whereas Anora had consistently failed to do so. Alistair hated to think of either woman in such a way; as a failure or a success based on their fertility, yet he knew it would be his strongest argument to replace Anora with Saóirsè. Regardless of what argument was used, she had to be removed from her position of wife and queen so that Saóirsè could take her place. She was reluctant for the latter position, yet eager for the former. Alistair smiled. All would be right with the world once Saóirsè was his wife.

"Eamon, please," Wynne said quietly, yet firmly. "This has gone on for long enough. The people need to say goodbye to their king."

Eamon took a long drink from his whiskey and sighed. "There is no body." He said brusquely. "There is nothing for the people to say goodbye to."

"Nevertheless, a funeral must be held."

"Alistair was a much loved king," Leliana piped up from where she stood by the door. "There is much sorrow for the people of this nation to mourn. They need to have something to direct that mourning at, some monument."

"It is only right, Eamon." Wynne added.

Eamon drained his drink. "You're right, I know." He turned his head to gaze out of the window. "I just...well, I suppose that I am not yet ready to say goodbye myself."

Zevran turned as he heard the door open. Leliana and Wynne had returned from their meeting. "Well?" he asked, abruptly. "Has a decision been made?"

"A memorial will be held in two days time." Wynne said calmly. "Eamon will address the nation on that day detailing what is to happen next and statues will be constructed both here and at Weisshaupt."

"Is that for his royal highness only?" he asked bitterly. Leliana stepped over to him and laid her hand over his.

"Saóirsè will be honoured alongside Alistair." She said softly. "Do not worry that she will be forgotten."

"They will name a new Warden-Commander on the day of the memorial," Wynne continued. "And the Wardens will have their own memorial service for both of them back at Weisshaupt."

Zevran said nothing; he merely gritted his teeth and stared at his feet. Oghren suddenly let out a sob which made everyone jump. He buried his face in his broad hands. Leliana left the elf's side to head for the dwarf.

"I shoulda been there," he said through tears. "I coulda helped them."

"We all feel that way," Leliana soothed. "Do you think Wynne and I do not regret falling behind and leaving them to face the darkspawn alone?"

"It cannot be helped now," Wynne said solemnly. "What is done has been done and we must look forward to the future now."

Zevran whirled and glared at Wynne, his eyes blazing. "How dare you speak as though they had been dead for years? Do not talk of the future now, you stupid old woman." No-one said a word as he stormed past them, kicking a nearby chair into the wall as he did. He slammed the door behind him, but even that did not appease the rage that boiled inside his chest.

"I'm not sure of the proper etiquette regarding attending one's own memorial, but would it be considered tacky to do so?" Alistair asked Saóirsè that night as they made camp. Had it not been for Catriona they would have pushed on to reach the Denerim gates by morning, but she was asleep on her feet and so they had been forced to bed down for the night. Cat was asleep in one tent and Alistair was stretched out on the ground gazing up at the stars above them. Saóirsè glanced over at him: he seemed to be perfectly at peace, which seemed bizarre considering that they were about to return to a place where they were considered to be deceased and advise everyone otherwise. She shook her head at his statement and then went over to him, curling up against him. He slipped his arm around her and she rested her head on his chest.

"I would prefer to arrive before any service could take place," Saóirsè said. "But we'll be hard pushed to make it in time."

"Like I say," Alistair said again. "We need to know just how to present ourselves to the shocked nation."

"I just want to let our friends know we're alive," Saóirsè murmured sadly. "I dread to think about what they are going through."

Alistair twisted his neck to look down at her. She was staring up into the night sky; the light of the moon illuminated her pale face. She looked beautiful and delicate, like a painting. He rolled over to face her and she turned her face to his. "I don't mean to make light of the situation." He admitted. "You know me, though: any chance for an inappropriate joke and I'll make it. I will be glad to let Eamon know that I am alive."

"He will be pleased," Saóirsè said. "The news must have been dreadful for him to bear."

"I'm not so sure Anora will be glad to see me," Alistair said gravely. "I expect the news was quite pleasant for her."

"I don't know," Saóirsè said thoughtfully. "I can't imagine what it must be like to lose not one, but two husbands in less than five years, not to mention a father as well." Alistair stayed quiet, contemplating her words. She did have a point and it was not something he liked to dwell on. Anora had lost much during her life and he was about to take something else away from her. It was easy to forget that she was a person underneath all the scheming and maliciousness, especially when he compared her to Saóirsè. Saóirsè had lost much as well, even before he met her. An orphan who lived on the outskirts of society, who had lost her dearest childhood friend and become infected by the Taint on a chance encounter she had been forced to turn her back on everything she knew to accompany a grieving junior Warden across Ferelden to try to gather an army. Yet the essential goodness in her had never been affected. It burned as brightly then as it had the day he had met her, back in Ostagar.

"I spoiled things for both of you when I made that stupid, stupid choice." Alistair said quietly. He gave her a sideways glance. "Did you wish, afterwards, that you had chosen to support Anora instead of me?"

Saóirsè was thoughtful for a moment. "For a while I suppose I did resent the fact that it was thanks to my hard work that got you on the throne and that I felt I was being punished for it. In dark moments I used to wonder what if...what if I hadnt pushed you to rule. I didn't think that for long. At the end of the day you exactly the king I expected you to be and that was what Ferelden needed. I made the right choice."

They both lay back and said nothing more. They simply allowed the sheer multitude of thoughts and emotions to be swallowed by the vast inky blackness above them.

They gathered on the dais where Zevran had seen them deliver the news of the Wardens deaths and prepared to address the nation. Eamon was at the fore with his brother who had travelled to be there that day. Wynne, Leliana, Zevran, Oghren and Shale stood at the back of the dais as each were to give a brief speech for both of the Wardens. The remaining Wardens stood the right of the dais. Anora was there to formally tend her abdication as queen and hand over all power to Eamon. Those who knew her well were surprised at her desire to shrug off any status she had gained. It was not reminiscent of the woman the Wardens companions had met neither back during their rescue mission during the Blight or at the now infamous Landsmeet where she had admitted that had she been chosen to rule, she would have called for Alistair's execution. She was quiet and withdrawn since she had heard the news. Her face was often wan and pale and she jumped at the slightest sound.

But there were more pressing matters to attend to on this day.

Eamon stood up and the crowd hushed at once, ready for his address.

As he began to speak Leliana noticed a two shapes enter the square where the crowds were gathered. Rather than join the throng of people, they carried on towards the dais. They were wearing cowls that obscured their faces and nobody was paying them any heed—they merely stood aside and let them pass. Leliana narrowed her eyes. There was something about these two...

"Wait," she heard herself call out as the two figures came closer still and she saw that the slower of the two was holding the hand of a small child. "Wait!"

She leapt from the dais and ran the short distance towards the couple, knowing even before she leapt into Saóirsès arms, that she was looking at her dearest friend. A massive noise of shock erupted from the crowds and Eamons tongue stilled at once. Saóirsè had Leliana clinging to her in a fierce grip, when she felt blow after blow and disappeared beneath both Zevrans and Oghrens embraces. Wynne was standing before Alistair with a look of disbelief on her face. She reached out a hand to his cheek and tears dribbled from her eyes. "My boy," she said quietly. "You do have a wonderful sense of timing."

Alistair laughed, he couldn't help it. Then he gathered Wynne into a bear hug that left her breathless. After that he stepped beside them and climbed onto the dais to grasp Eamons hand in his. The older man had tears in his eyes, too. He grinned at Tegan, then turned to Anora, who was stood as still as a statue with an odd expression on her face.

"You're alive," Anora said speaking at last. "All of you."

"Yes," Alistair said then turned to address the nation. "People of Ferelden, I apologise for the drama of our entrance. We only recently heard the news that myself and the Warden-Commander were considered to be dead. This, as you can see, is not the case. We certainly came very close a few weeks ago and were it not for the timely intervention of an old friend and ally we would not be here today."

Saóirsè felt her friends' eyes on her face at that part, and she quickly nodded to stave off any questions.

Alistair turned to Anora. "I have to tell you something."

She gave him a sad smile. "I already know about your daughter. Go ahead: introduce her."

Alistair swallowed and twitched his arm as if he were going to touch her arm, but then thought better of it. He gave a quick nod, and then gestured for Saóirsè to join him on the dais. She took Cat from Lelianas arms and slowly went to stand beside him. She felt as though there was lead in the soles of her boots. She hated the feeling of all those eyes on her baby. She just hoped they would be kind.

"I have an announcement to make to you all," Alistair called out. "I recently became aware of the fact that I...that I have a daughter." He paused as he turned to cast loving, nervous eyes over Cat who was stood right at her mother's side, holding her hand. "She was born not long after the Blight ended and I was unaware of her existence until a few weeks ago. She is a miracle creation: the child of two Grey Wardens and she is hereby named as the heir to the throne of Ferelden."

The crowd broke into a tumultuous racket; some cheered, some murmured in shock. Cat looked up at Alistair with very big eyes and he crouched down to smile at her. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "We'll go inside now if you like?" She nodded and Alistair stood again.

"I'm sure this has been a great surprise to you all," he said to the crowd who hushed again as he spoke. "But my family and I have been through a lot in recent weeks and we must retire inside again now."

The people who had gathered to jointly mourn the loss of their beloved king, watched him leave with his daughter, surrounded by his friends.

Anora followed a few paces behind everyone else. As she walked she felt the stares of every member of the crowd there. She glanced back and met the gaze of Thomas Howe. His eyes burned with wrath and made her shiver in the warm sunshine.