"...yes, thank you, the updated blue-prints are over on the desk, they're ready," Lyra waved one of the workers over to the other side of the large room, her eyes focused on the design in front of her. Final layer, she thought with relief, holding the compass with a steady hand, drawing perfect circles on her plan.
The construction workers buzzed around her on this busy afternoon, today being the day the funding finally came in for the next steps in the infrastructure improvement project. Lyra was gathering together the final list of materials they needed, and her mind was exhausted from working with numbers and people all day.
"We're off to the foundry, Ms. Lavellan," the lead worker waved as he lead his team out the door, and she glanced up and smiled, returning the gesture to the workers.
"Just Lyra," she murmured to herself as she shook her head with a smile, knowing the laborers would never concede in calling her by her first name. It's almost worse than the constant and relentless, 'Warden'.
She was left alone for the first time today, allowing for her mind to wander to the same subject it's been wandering to for the last few weeks.
Aedan. Blast our timing, she scowled light-heartedly, frustrated the last few weeks happened to be the busiest few weeks of the year so far and they had had so little time together. So busy, she only had enough energy at the end of the day to make it to her hovel in the alienage and pass out. Her project was nearing its completion, and all the while Hawke had been bombarded with more missions and quests than ever before. Oftentimes they would go on a quest during the day and then another at night, just to have one right after the other the next day, finding a chance to sleep every few days.
It still feels like a dream, the memory of their confessions, the memory of the best morning she could remember still fresh, still warm. The sight of his beautiful blues, looking at her so lovingly and gentle one moment, then so passionately the next. A shiver went down her spine just thinking about it and she cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly. Gods he makes me crazy.
Lyra closed her eyes for a moment. The Templars are getting worse. Meredith has heightened the curfew, doubled the patrols and doubled the arrests, tightened the rations and tries to halt my projects.
The late Viscount had encouraged Lyra's designs, seeing the better health and happiness of the common workers and believing the funding was worth it. Meredith's priorities, however, were direct and specific- crack down on the mages, and keep the city together tightly. Thousands of sovereigns from the Keep's reserves, all from the peoples' taxes were being spent on training and outfitting new Templars, with wage cuts on the service workers and hour cuts for the city guard to be replaced by Templars.
Where Meredith tightened her grip, the mages of the Circle responded. First Enchanter Orsino was a strong and sharp defender of his mages, but Lyra could see his patience and peace-mindedness wither along with his energy and his freedom, the longer and harder Meredith punished.
I feel the tensions rise and rise, she thought worriedly, knowing Hawke was at the center of it all playing the Champion mediator, never with a moment's rest. She put her pencil down when she heard a knock on the door to the project room, and she looked up to see a messenger.
"Ms. Lavellan, the Champion has asked me to find you," he gestured for her to follow, and she nodded and came to join him, happy she would get to see him.
"Is all well?" she asked lightly, giving the familiar messenger a smile as he led her through the many hallways. He nodded, an excited look in his eye.
"Oh yes, I never thought I'd ever get to see the King of Ferelden in person!"
Lyra nearly tripped on herself as a wave of dread flooded her vision. Her lungs locked up so she couldn't breathe, her veins turned to ice, and it was all she could do to continue walking like normal. What? Alistair?!
"The King… the King is here?" she whispered, forcing herself to take in a breath. The messenger chatted on about how excited he was, but Lyra could only silently fight off the waves of anxiety and shame crashing through her. I can't believe… I can't believe he's here, in Kirkwall.
"It's about time, if you ask me," the man whispered to her, shaking his head and glancing around quickly. "City's gone to madness, we all know it."
He led her towards the main hall, and brought her to the large receiving room made for guests of estate. Lyra's heart pounded in her ears, her instincts alert, and her mind whirling. Does Alistair know? That I'm here? Aedan, what do I do?
They came upon the open door and Lyra could hear Hawke talking. "...don't know, if I'd ever return to Ferelden, your Majesty. My remaining family is here, as are my companions. Kirkwall is my…"
Lyra tried to focus her scattered breathing. Alistair. She had first met him years ago, when she knew almost nothing about the world outside her clan and when she was still barely a young woman. He had been there during her Joining, that fateful day cutting her years short and blessing her with the title and abilities of a Grey Warden. He had followed her lead in the war, been there for her as a faithful warrior, a faithful friend, a faithful lover. Lyra had encouraged him to ascend the throne, claiming his birthright and devoting the rest of his life to their country, marrying Anora to unite the nobles and to face the future with her power and her support. They had weathered the aftermath of the Blight together, fending off nobles, mediating a broken land with its people still in mourning.
Lyra had given him a son, because it was the only way for both of them to continue living today. Becoming pregnant was the only way to circumvent the needed sacrifice it took to kill the Archdemon and end the Blight.
Is the Prince here?
Breathe, she commanded herself, approaching the room slowly. Alistair's voice sounded just like it had a few years ago; light, but deep, and full of playfulness that could always lighten the mood.
"...shame, Ferelden's loss. But I understand; Kirkwall needs you, more than anything."
Lyra held her breath as she stepped into the light of the doorway. She found Alistair immediately as he looked like a bright beacon, standing next to Hawke in polished gold armor. Lyra stepped into the large room silently, walking towards Hawke with her brows drawn.
Alistair glanced to her, and then did a double take, inhaling abruptly and stopping mid-sentence. Hawke turned as well, and Lyra met his gaze as she walked to his side, seeing the multitudes of emotions and conflict in his expression.
The silence was thick as she stiffly walked into the room. Her eyes flitted between them, taking in Alistair's shock and dumbfoundedness and Hawke's worried hesitation, and she moved to stand at Hawke's side, returning his worried stare with her own. Before she reached him, however, Alistair unfroze from his shock and in a few large strides he surprised her by reaching out and engulfing her in his arms.
She blinked and breathed in sharply when she felt her feet leave the ground, and she would return the hug but her arms were trapped between her and his hard armored chest.
"Lyra, you're...you're okay…" Alistair whispered, the relief evident in his voice, and all at once she felt a huge weight lift off her chest. The shock faded and she closed her eyes and smiled, suspended in the air. It's so good to see you, too, but, I can't breathe-!
"Alistair, I am relieved to see you again, but you're crushing me," she squeaked out, and he quickly put her down, setting her on her feet before hastily taking a step back, his eyes bright, face flushed, shaking his head before running a hand through his hair.
"I can't believe this! You're here! It's been…" he trailed off, taking her in, no doubt noticing the subtle differences in her appearance as she noticed the subtle differences about him. Lyra swallowed, the knot of guilt twisting her stomach, looking between his eyes in fear.
"I left without saying goodbye," she blurted out shakily, rooted in her place and peering up at him, watching his face for his reaction. Alistair blinked at her and his brows came together, but only concern emitted from him.
"Yes," he said softly, letting out a sigh and shaking his head, and giving her a meaningful look. "But I understand why." he blinked over to Hawke, standing awkwardly, and cleared his throat, gesturing to Lyra. "I'm sorry, Hawke, I erm, this is Lyra Lavellan, we used to work together-"
"I know Lanyra, your Majesty," Hawke nodded, giving him a small knowing smile, and meeting Lyra's eyes with his curious gaze. He glanced around the room to see there was no one who would overhear their conversation, and lowered his voice a little. "She's told me quite a lot about your time with the Wardens. She is a dear companion to me."
Lyra smiled at him reassuringly and was about to affirm, but Hawke had averted his eyes with a small uncomfortable smile, bowing slightly to Alistair. "I'll leave you two to catch up; I need to grab some food," and turned to leave, his head bowed slightly and his eyes averted. Lyra reached out and brushed his arm with her fingers as he passed, but he only smiled detachedly and made his way out of the hall, leaving her alone with the King.
Lyra was looking where he left worriedly, when Alistair 'hmphed' thoughtfully. "Do you lead from the shadows now? Let Hawke have the title of Champion?"
She shook her head, very aware they were alone, and feeling the odd familiarity of her past settle in her bones. "No, Hawke is a leader, and a good one at that. I found him and his companions when I first travelled here, and I offer my skills for him and for this City. He is easy to follow."
"I really like him, after only five minutes talking to him," he nodded, agreeing, but his smile faded. "So you came here to Kirkwall, right after you left?"
Lyra nodded, the guilt tightening her breath. "Yes. I…" she closed her eyes, brows crossing, hands wringing themselves. "I ran. I ran away, here."
Alistair breathed in deeply, looking between her eyes. "I had a long talk with Anora, shortly after you left. She told me you and her had a long talk, right after Kieran was born."
Lyra nodded, eyes wide, flashing back violently to that time, that fateful conversation. The emotions that were brought back were so strong, she was mute for a moment, reliving that dark memory in the Ferelden dungeon.
"I agree with you," Anora started, entering the musty dungeon room where Lyra lay, recovering. Lyra sat up quickly, taken aback - no one visited her in her cell, save for the one or two trusted servants who brought her food and rags to wash.
Lyra was in hiding, as all mistresses are after they give birth; they are to stay out of sight for a period of time as the newborn is announced to the world, to stray away from rumors of the new prince being a bastard. Lyra was weak from giving birth, and weak from indecision, wracking her addled mind on what to do in the solitary confines of a dungeon.
"My Queen?" Lyra asked, not sure what Anora agreed with her on. The Queen of Ferelden wore a beautiful blue sequin dress, no longer having to wear the fake baby bump to pretend she was pregnant for the newly born prince. The high nobles in charge took every precaution and thought of everything to be prepared, so that the Prince could have his full rights, and not be reduced to a lower class citizen, as all elves and half-elves are.
"Alistair talks in his sleep," she started, coming to sit next to Lyra in her grungy dungeon cell. Lyra scooted over, looking at her confusedly as Anora continued. "He's conflicted. His warrior's heart doesn't want to commit to this massive lie, that he'll have to tell the whole world, for the rest of his life and the rest of Kieran's life."
Lyra nodded, watching her, the woman married to her former lover, and cleared her throat, really speaking for the first time in a few days. "This lie is what will give him the best life, the best chance. My-" Lyra stopped, closing her eyes to withstand the nausea that comes about every time she thinks about it, "My elvish culture, my Clan name, my own love, none of it will provide him the life he can have if you claim him," Lyra swallowed, disturbed, but firm, her logic tearing into her pride like a lion making a kill. She blinked away tears, looking up into Anora's thoughtful gaze. "Am I a terrible person?"
Anora shook her head immediately, scooting closer to her on her dirty bed, her voice softening. "No. You are a Hero, Lyra. You saved our world from the Blight, you should be revered and honored for the rest of your life." she faced her further, reaching out to wipe Lyra's cheeks. "Alistair told me about the ritual, about how a Blight can only end with sacrifice. He told me about what Kieran is, and I've realized something, after getting to know you these past months."
Anora's eyes regarded Lyra kindly, almost reverently. "You would make the best mother for this child, I have no doubt. But you also make the best Hero for our world. You are a leader, a fighter, and a peace-keeper, and only you could have gotten us through this War. To see you want to make this sacrifice, leaving your country, leaving Alistair, your closest friend, leaving your name and your title and your newborn son, I have to ask-"
Anora choked slightly, caught up in emotion, before turning fully to Lyra, sliding off the bed and kneeling on the ground in front of her in her gorgeous dress, grasping her hands and looking up at her with glistening eyes, "Am I really worthy of raising your son? Would you really entrust me to raise that beautiful boy, like he was my own?"
Lyra let out a sob, covering her mouth and nodding, squeezing Anora's hand with her other. "Yes. You will be an incredible mother, just like how you're an incredible wife. There's no one I would want more to raise him."
Lyra took in a deep breath, wobbling slightly in the grand room, those distant feelings rushing into her. And yet she still shook her head, expression straining, peering at Alistair in frustration. "My worst sin in this life is choosing not to raise him."
Alistair's brows came together, his hazel eyes peering at her with a kind sadness, and shook his head gently before stepping a little closer. Lyra's chest brimmed with tears and she clenched her hands into fists at her side, struggling to keep eye contact with her old friend. Alistair shook his head and spoke quietly.
"You did not leave Kieran to me alone." he reached out slowly and took one of Lyra's hands in his own, making her fist soften as he held it gently. She peered up at his kind hazel gaze, and found only happiness as he continued. "I wish you could see it; the sight of Anora sitting by the fireside, holding him to her chest as she softly sings him lullabies. The sight of her tickling his toes until he flails around giggling, and the sound of their laughter, and mine." Alistair shook his head smiling, squeezing her hand in his own. "It's the most beautiful thing, seeing Anora as a mother."
Lyra felt tears slide down her cheeks, and she took in a shaky breath, the relief overflowing her stressed body from hearing Alistair's wonderful words. "I told her she would be an incredible mother." Lyra smiled through her tears, nodding her head. "And you, Alistair, an incredible father. An incredible family." Lyra shook from the relief. Hearing the boy she had given birth to had two parents who loved him was everything she needed.
Alistair nodded, and then gazed directly into her eyes, his honesty like a powerful force, and his smile filling her with hope. "I've come to really love Anora, and we love our son. I miss you terribly, Lyra, and I wish you could stay with us. But know that I would not change anything; I would not change our family."
Lyra covered her mouth to muffle her sob. Is this real? This is everything, I've ever wanted to hear.
"Thank you, Alistair, that makes me so happy," Lyra got out, wiping her eyes and trying desperately to compose herself, before reaching out to give Alistair a hug. Her friend returned the hug, the two Grey Wardens who ended the fifth Blight reuniting in friendship, even if briefly, in the grand Kirkwall Hall.
Alistair gave her a last squeeze before letting go, his smile twitching mischievously. "Now, because you left us without proper goodbyes, you owe me a drink and a conversation about what the hell you've been up to these past years."
Lyra chuckled and nodded, an idea immediately coming to mind. "Absolutely. You're not going to believe this, but my other job is actually serving ale at the Hanged Man, the best bar in town."
Alistair cocked his head disbelievingly. "Woah, so you're telling me you're up here making designs and building stuff during the day, fighting and following whatever the hell Hawke does sometimes, and then work nights serving drinks? You were supposed to live on the low!"
Lyra laughed and nodded, leaning in closer with a smirk. "You're going to love the Hanged Man. Everyone's always way too drunk to remember anything. I have to introduce you to all our friends here."
Alistair nodded enthusiastically. "I'll need a drink, or ten, after talking to all the politicians I have to today. Count on it."
Lyra felt her smile widen, and she nodded. "Shall we go find Hawke? I've derailed your royal visit long enough."
"Yeah, time to get back to it. My advisors are already angry with me for slipping away from them twice today." He gestured to follow after her, and she nodded and led them out of the grand room.
"He'll be in the kitchens," Lyra led the King through an empty hallway, his bright armor reflecting light onto the walls. She looked over at her old friend, the tendrils of excitement tingling in her the longer she thought of Hawke. "Hawke and I, ah… we've, well… I've come to truly care for him."
Alistair's brow twitched upwards as he gave her a knowing smile. "I can tell. Like I said, I really like him already. Consider this old-friend approval."
Lyra smiled at him appreciatively, looking away quickly to hide her blush. I already know he's going to tease me to no end about this once he's drunk.
They made their way through the hallways of the Capitol building, passing respectful nobles and bowing servants. Lyra recognized most of the elven servants, waving and getting small smiles as they passed. Alistair mentioned it while they took some stairs down to the kitchens below.
"You knew all the servants in Denerim, too."
Lyra gave him a smile and nodded. "I've lived in the elven alienage since I moved here; the community is close, and strengthening. If you'll still be in Kirkwall Sunday, you must join us for a meal."
Alistair nodded as they descended the dark steps of the servant's stairway, the walls and floor not as polished as the ones the nobles use. "I appreciate it; I honestly have no idea how long I'll be here, but if I am you can count on it."
They made their way down the winding dark stairways, weaving around servants carrying trays and brooms, until they approached a very noisy and brightly lit kitchen.
Walking in they were bombarded with dozens of voices talking over each other and the bustling of dozens of servants running around doing various tasks, the sheer amount of people stopping them in their tracks. It took about 10 seconds for everyone to notice the golden King standing awkwardly in the servant's entrance, and the once loud kitchen became silent as all pairs of eyes flew to Lyra and Alistair.
Hawke blinked at them from where he sat on a table in the middle of it all, holding a sandwich. Alistair cleared his throat uncomfortably, giving the silent room a smile.
"Sorry, uh, to barge in like this, hello everyone," he nodded to Hawke, "Lovely kitchen, we're just here for Hawke."
At once, all the servants resumed motion, continuing on in whatever direction they were heading, the workers having no extra time to stand around. Alistair and Lyra weaved around the busy workers, making their way to Hawke.
"That was quick," Hawke said lightly, and Lyra gave him a smile, coming to sit right next to him on the wooden table.
"Yeah; figured we'll catch up later once we're all at the Hanged Man together," Lyra smoothly leaned up towards him and gave him a kiss on his cheek, making Hawke's eyes widen and his face to redden. His wide blues blinked at her hopefully as his posture relaxed some, and Alistair began poking his nose around the various pots and pans with freshly cooked food.
"Man something smells good in here," he murmured to himself while Lyra laid her head on Hawke's shoulder and smiled, watching the eccentric King being led by his stomach. Her gaze shifted to an approaching woman, the older elf looking flustered with her bouncy hair messy and her apron stained.
The head cook sauntered up to the crew with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows drawn in a glare. "Hawke! Quit bringing your friends into my kitchen!"
The three turned to the lady, and before any of them could say anything, her kind brown eyes alighted on Lyra and her smile widened into a grin. "Well well well, if it isn't Hawke's special friend, hello my dear, I'm Olivia," she reached out and took Lyra's hand.
Lyra blinked and smiled, a blush forming from how the woman smirked at her light-heartedly, before glancing up to Hawke to see his blush as well. "A pleasure, Madam Olivia, I'm Lyra."
The chef then turned to Alistair, regarding him kindly, and the King gave the woman a smile. "I'm Alistair; I'm so impressed with your kitchen, ma'am, that bread over there smells heavenly."
Olivia softened and gestured, "Well aren't you a sweetheart, Alistair dear, you go on and get some now, I don't want to see you leave without some, you hear?"
Alistair perked up and nodded, beaming. "Thank you, ma'am!"
Olivia then turned her attention back to Lyra, clicking her tongue in approval and clapping enthusiastically. "What a beauty. Hawke honey, I'm impressed."
Hawke stuttered, "Ah, oh, yes, um, this is, well-"
"Your eyes are so beautiful up close my dear!" Olivia waved away Hawke's protests, reaching up to lovingly stroke Lyra's hair. "You've done good for us in the alienage; I've never had a chance to thank you, but you're like our own Andraste, speakin' up for us elves and gettin' our traditions back afoot," she lightly caressed Lyra's cheek like a grandmother would, and Lyra was at a loss for words from how comforting this woman's presence was.
Olivia then pointed at Hawke sitting next to her with her thumb, her tone turning scolding while her eyes kept their teasing warmth. "And I'd bet a whole week's pay you keep this sweet oaf out of trouble, am I right?"
"Yes ma'am," Lyra giggled, thoroughly charmed, while Hawke stammered. "I-I don't get into too much trouble, Madam Oli-"
"And you bring this sweet, beautiful young lass with you on your wild adventures?! Oh I've taught you nothing," she leaned in to Lyra with a playful grin, "Though he can thank me for teaching him a thing or two about wine, I hope it went well with your curry."
Lyra gasped and smiled, nodding. "Oh yes, it was wonderful, thank you!"
"I'm glad. Now I told this boy no funny business while you two were drinking that fine wine, and oh you should have seen him get all hot and bothered the more I asked about you-"
Hawke sputtered, trying to get a hold of himself. "Yes, yes, thank you Madam Olivia, we're sorry for holding up your kitchen, we'll be on our way," and he moved to get off the table, face flushed. Olivia cackled as Hawke tried to usher Lyra and a charmed Alistair out of the kitchen, Olivia hollering lightly after them.
"So that was, um, the Kirkwall head chef, your Majesty," Hawke chuckled awkwardly as they made their way up the cramped dark stairwell.
"Please, oh Maker, just Alistair," he chuckled back, patting Hawke's shoulder affably, giving him a grin. "That was everything I needed, I have the energy to handle some more politics now."
Hawke nodded in understanding, smiling back behind them towards the kitchen. "I love Olivia; feel free to pop down there whenever it gets too much up here with the nobles, she understands."
They emerged into the hallways of the capitol, and Alistair turned to them both. "Time to return to my advisors. We must see each other tonight, the Hanged Man, was it? In Lowtown?"
"Yes," Hawke grinned, meeting Lyra's gaze, unable to hide the subtle longing in his expression. "We've been so busy for weeks; tonight, we'll offer you the same honor a new companion gets. Come prepared."
"Oooo," Alistair cocked his head, intrigued, and Lyra laughed, smiling giddily, leaning in and lowering her voice.
"Just let your advisors know you won't be functional until probably late afternoon tomorrow," she snickered, and Alistair nodded slowly, smile growing.
"Good. Good." Alisitair reached out and squeezed Hawke and Lyra's shoulders before turning and walking away, waving behind him.
"I like him," Hawke mused quietly after he left, and Lyra smiled up at him, catching his soft blues, and reaching out instinctively to clutch at his shirt, to which his hand naturally respond by sliding to her waist. The world around them started to slow down, blue eyes and blue-greens saying more to each other in a few seconds of silence than any amount of words could. This was the first time the two had a chance to be alone in weeks, but before either of them could say anything, a messenger approached them, out of breath and looking worried.
"Ms. Lavellan," he panted, and the two unclicked from being lost in a stare to look at the man hunched over to catch his breath.
"Yes, are you alright?" Lyra moved to offer him a hand but he nodded quickly.
"I'm well, thank you; it's the workers for your project, the foundry's infested with those giant spiders again. They are waiting outside like you instructed after last time."
Lyra sobered and nodded, thinking quickly. "Thank you; I'll leave immediately." The messenger nodded and left to go sit down.
"Would you like my support?" Hawke asked her, concern in his gaze, and Lyra smiled at him and shook her head.
"I'll be fine; they're weak to fire and I keep a few homemade explosives on me now in case this happened again. However, we…" she took a step closer, entering his space and making him look down as she looked up. Her gaze flickered between his widened blues, her hand sliding up from his abdomen to his chest, his collar, the side of his neck, his cheek. She lowered her voice, blushing slightly from her forwardness. "We should both wrap up our work quickly, and slip out a little early."
Lyra felt his hands find their way to hold her waist, his face lowering to hers, his facial hair prickling her jaw as he moved to whisper in her ear. His grip on her waist tightened and the feeling of his fingers holding her in place made her heart beat in double time. His voice was so low and deep she felt shivers run through every inch of her body.
"If you don't leave right now, we're finding an empty room, and those spiders will have to wait until we're done."
Lyra let out a breath sharply, struggling to keep her exasperation quiet, her heart hammering, cheeks warming, eyes wide. Gods, yes, please. She blinked a few times and breathed in to clear the haze before nuzzling her nose against his cheek, and whispering back, calmly.
"Oh no, you have it wrong; I'd prefer to savoryou."
In the seconds following Lyra slipped out of his shocked grasp after running a single finger down his chest to his belt. She treasured the moment she allowed herself to take in his hungry look before slipping around him, striding away towards the city. She felt his eyes on her back and swayed her hips slightly before glancing behind.
His blues were like hardened crystals, narrowed and provoked, and yet his mouth upturned in a confident smile. He cocked his head slightly and crossed his arms, tapping a finger impatiently. His eyes said, I'm waiting.
Lyra had to turn away, continuing towards the entrance, thankful when she turned a corner. Her hands were bunched into fists, her heart hammering in her chest. I'm this close to losing it. Time to slaughter these spiders as fast as I can.