Kya had no idea how she'd gotten off the top of Fort Drakon. All she could remember was waking up in a strange and comfortable bed, in a huge room that could have been no where except the royal palace.

What she did remember however, this with crystal transparency, was the touch of Loghain's fingers and the tears on his face. Tears, of all things. She tried to convince herself that he was only wounded and that what it seemed like couldn't be possible. But that was a hard road. She had a thousand explanations, and they all seemed flat.

The only other answer however, was entirely too good to be true. Childhood fantasies are supposed to be just that, fantasies.

Whatever it was, she knew she had more unpleasantness to deal with first. Today was Alistair and Anora's coronation. But before the ceremony began, the soon to be King had asked to see her. In private.

Kya thought she might just be sick.

Without the threat of the archdemon and the Blight firing her blood, it seemed her confidence evaporated. She did not want to face him, not like that. Once he was King, and she the commander of Ferelden's Grey Wardens, then she could face him with dignity. But he wanted to speak with her, Alistair to Kya, and that wasn't a conversion she wanted to have.

However, he wasn't going to wait forever. If she didn't go, he was going to burst in here full of righteous indignation and then they would get to scream at each other with an audience of horrified servants. Not exactly a distinguished way to start his reign. And she put him there, after all, and had no desire to seem as foolish as she felt.

So she went. And the guards opened the door to his study with curt bows and stuttering adoration. It reminded her a bit of Cullen, back in the day. It tasted bitter.

Alistair was standing at the window. He was dressed, well, like a king. Purple tunic with gold embroidery, black leather trousers, and a delicate looking sword strapped to his hip. A gleaming set of gold dragon armor stood on a stand in the corner with flickers of sunlight glittering on it's polished surface.

A far cry from the nearly always disheveled and rumpled Alistair.

He heard the door shut and he turned to face her. Violet tunic or no, it was still him. Except his eyes weren't happy, and he was almost always happy. Or complaining, and happy to be complaining. This man's eyes were dead. Kya felt that same hollow feeling in her chest.

You could have heard a pin drop as they stared at each other.

Kya wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Was he looking at the tunic she wore, emblazoned with the Grey Warden griffon? Did he see the intricate braids wound into her hair by an over enthusiastic hand maid? Did he see the Hero of Ferelden or was he finally seeing her at last?

"Kya," he said as he walked around the desk to stand in front of her. "I'm sure you think we have nothing more to say to each other." He paused thoughtfully. "But you would be wrong."

"What do you wish to speak of, your Majesty?" she asked. The words felt strange.

Alistair grimaced. "So it's going to be like that, is it?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm the King and you're the sodding Hero of Ferelden, and that's it?" He sounded exasperated already.

"What else is there?" she asked. "Am I to beg your forgiveness? Fall on my knees and proclaim that I still love you?"

His face crumpled. "I'm guessing it wouldn't work if I did that then, I suppose."

"What?" Kya frowned. "You can't possibly still . . . ."

"Did you think it was just going to go away?" he interrupted. "Is it that easy for you?" He sat down hard on the edge of his desk. "Do you have any idea how I felt, locked up in the cellar, listening to the battle? I felt it when you killed the archdemon. Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

Kya gave him a hard look. "I don't think I do."

"I thought we were going to be together forever," he sighed into his hand.

"Forever only happens in fairy tales Alistair," she said quietly. "No matter what you think you feel, you are going to be the King of Ferelden. Even if I had executed Loghain on the floor, like the dog you think he is, that would still be true." He was frowning at her. "And what could a mage be to the King of Ferelden," she continued. "Except a friend. Or maybe his whore."

Alistair stumbled to his feet. "My what?"

"You heard me," she said, raising her hands out in front of her. "You already have a wife. What else could it have been?"

"It could have been exactly like it was before," he said. "Well, except for the wife part."

"And what was that?" she asked. "An ex-Templar and a mage, just living out some fantasy they had about forbidden fruit as Leliana would say?"

Alistair just stared, his mouth agape. He looked like she'd slapped him.

"Look," she said, taking his hand. "I do love you, I probably always will. But we weren't meant for each other, and you know it. If things hadn't been they way they were, when it felt like we were the last two people in all of Thedas, it would have never happened."

"Why not?" he asked, choked.

"Think about it, think about it very carefully Alistair," she said. "How many times did I do or say something that drove you to distraction? How many choices did I make that made your stomach turn? If you can't remember any, think about Loghain."

Alistair scowled and pulled his hand away.

"Because I don't regret sparing his life; I haven't regretted it even once," she said. "Is that the sort of woman you could really love?"

He turned away from her. "I had better learn to, because I'm married to one just the same."

"I'm sorry that you aren't happy," she said. "I didn't mean for that."

"I'm sure you didn't," he said with his back still to her.

"Listen, for what it's worth, I don't regret what happened between us," she said. He slowly turned back to look at her. Kya gave him a sad smile. "But it just wasn't meant to be."

Slowly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a locket. It was silver and had intricate dwarven runes on its surface. She took Alistair's hand and turned it palm up, setting it down delicately. She clicked it open. Inside there was a single dried rose petal. Alistair stared at it incredulously as she clicked it shut again. Kya folded his fingers around it.

When she finally met his eyes again, they were damp with tears.

"Don't forget me," she said softly. "Because I certainly won't forget you."

And with that, she reached up and kissed him once, softly, on his cheek and went out. She gave him a look over her shoulder. He was staring at his folded hand and tears ran down his cheeks. It broke her heart a little to see him like that. But he would be alright in time. She knew that much about him. The clouds would roll back and the sun would shine again.

He would be a good king; he was a good man. And Anora would be a good ruler at his side. Together, they would be exactly what Ferelden needed.

But for Kya, that life would never have been anything more than a gilded cage. She might be a Grey Warden, sworn to protect by any means necessary, but that did not feel like a punishment, not any more. That was the life the Maker had given to her, and it was the one she was suited for.

She wondered now, just where it might lead.


The coronation was quite beautiful. It was worthy of a painting in one of those storybooks she once read, before she abandoned them for tales about Maric and the Hero of River Dane. Alistair wore that golden armor like he'd been born for it, and she supposed that he had. Anora was everything a Queen was supposed to be, radiant and beautiful. Yet stern somehow, despite her fragile appearance.

Kya felt proud of the both of them.

She watched Loghain as his daughter was crowned Queen for the second time. He looked wry, but happy. He also seemed to stifle a grin when Anora slapped Alistair's hand away when he reached to take hers. It was going to be a long hard road for the two of them. But weren't political marriages always like that? It would be a year before they even liked each other, but some day, they would be in love, just as it should be.

That strange hollow feeling was gone.

They paraded her about like a trophy. She obliged them, though it made her feel like a butterfly under glass. With the nice sharp pin to keep her in place as well. She honestly couldn't wait for it to be over. Certainly the bed was nice, and the road to Amaranthine was bound to be long, but it would be familiar.

But not today. Today was for pomp and ceremony and bullshit. Tomorrow was for leaving and starting over. A life of her own was exactly what she needed.

Kya found Loghain leaning against the wall in the hall when she finally managed to break away from the throng. He looked weary. She hadn't had the chance to spare one word for him, not since the top of Fort Drakon. She realized quite vividly during those days that she missed him.

No matter what madness had happened in those days before the archdemon fell, they were friends at least. Or she hoped so.

"Commander Kya," he said quietly as she approached. A smile flickered and fled before it reached his eyes.

Kya raised an eyebrow at him. "That sounds strange, doesn't it?"

"Not really," he replied. He sounded sincere. "It is well deserved."

"I suppose it is at that," she said. She felt awkward all of sudden, and had no idea what to say. She was relieved when he finally spoke.

"So it seems you will be heading to Amaranthine on the morrow, or am I mistaken?" he asked.

"That is the plan, yes," she said. "I did want to speak with you about that."

"Yes?" he replied.

"Since I am now officially the Commander, of all two of Ferelden's Grey Wardens, I was hoping that I might persuade you to come along. I could sorely use some help that isn't Orlesian," she said. She knew the impact that last bit would have on him. It was manipulation, certainly, but she wasn't above it.

"There is no need for persuasion," he said. His tone was suspiciously flat. "You are, as you say, my Commander. I will do what ever you ask."

Kya sighed. "Yes, I'm sure. But I don't want to command you to do anything. If you don't want to go, I will release you from any obligation you feel. Ferelden is safe, for the time being. Your oath is no longer necessary."

Loghain grunted. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Didn't I just ask?" she said, frustrated. His walls were up again, decorated with banners and all. "Did you think I was just being polite? I would very much like for you to come with me to Amaranthine. I would very much like your help Loghain." She sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I need your help."

"I can't imagine you would need help from anyone," he said quietly.

"Well, you would be wrong," she said. "I did rally the troops using the treaties, but that's not the same as rebuilding the Wardens from nothing. I don't know the first thing about recruiting men, but you do."

"I suppose I do have some experience with that," he said. He brightened a little and his look became decidedly sarcastic. He gave her a curt little bow. "As you wish, Commander. I will follow where you lead."

Kya sneered at him. This was familiar territory again. "Yes, you do that Warden," she replied.

He looked inordinately pleased.