A/N Naughty, naughty.



"Don't you remember what you said before the Landsmeet?" Kya asked Alistair. "I would think you of all people would understand my reluctance."

Alistair sighed. He sounded frustrated. "Yes, I do remember," he said.

"Then do not ask this of me," Kya replied. "I don't want to give a sodding speech about what happened here. I can't."

"It's because of him, isn't it?" Alistair gave her a hard look. His eyes narrowed.

Kya returned the look in kind. "What does it matter what my reasons are?"

"It matters to me," he said.

They too had retreated into a tent. Although calling it a tent was a bit of stretch. It had more in common with the throne room in Denerim than with the tiny canvas triangles they spent a year living out of. There were a pair of fine chairs sitting in the front of the room, makeshift thrones as it were. Alistair flopped down into one as if it was a couch in a tavern, not a symbol of his command.

The idea of Alistair with power was a bit unnerving, but Kya tried to ignore it. It was her influence that gave it to him, after all.

She turned away from him. "I thought we were done with this."

"Did you now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Stupid of me, I'm sure," she replied, turning back to face him. He was slouching and it was entirely too familiar.

"Do I have to make a royal command or something to get you to cooperate with me?" he said.

Kya frowned. "You Theirin's have this funny idea that you have some sort of influence with Grey Wardens that you do not," she said. "Or did you forget about that bit already?"

"Hardly," he replied. His aggravated tone was unbecoming. "But that won't stop me."

"And it won't command me," she snapped.

Alistair sat up in the chair. "Then do it because you owe me."

"For what?" Kya asked, annoyed.

"For ruining me," he said. He stood up and moved toward her quickly, grabbing her shoulders with uncharacteristic roughness. "For forcing me to be King, for forcing me to marry Anora and worst of all, ruining any chance I might actually love her someday."

"Ha," she snorted. "That is all hardly my fault. You can blame Eamon for the royal title and the royal wife; those were his idea. Although you have a funny idea that being King is a punishment." She sighed, looked up and met his eyes.

She'd forgotten how young Alistair was, which was odd in and of itself, since he was still older than she. But with all the months she'd spent with Loghain, she'd forgotten that men came in any other type than he was.

She had also forgotten, perhaps willed herself to forget, that the King of Ferelden was very tall, very handsome and clearly still very much in love with her.

"As for that other part," she said quietly. "That is your doing, not mine. I did the right thing, and the thing you told me to. You are the one that said there was no 'us' only . . . how did you put it again? . . . 'the woman who stabbed me in the back and her pet traitor' . . . don't you remember that I tried to change your mind? But you wouldn't have it." She gave him a fierce look. "And if you regret it now, regret leaving me on the eve of battle to face the Archdemon alone . . . well, that's your fault. And don't you forget it."

Kya felt his fingers dig into her shoulders. "You were hardly alone," he said through his clenched teeth. "You had an army and you had him." He was frowning hard, and his eyebrows sunk down over his eyes. She remembered that expression well. "If you don't remember, I gave you a choice too, me or him. And you chose him."

"I chose the only sensible decision. I chose to be a sodding Grey Warden and do what was necessary to end the Blight,." She spoke slowly and quietly. His eyes were boring into hers unmercifully. "And if the sacrifice I had to make to have it be so was to lose you, then it was as it had to be."

She expected he would let her go then, but he didn't. Alistair's hands were immobile on her shoulders. His only movement was his eyes. He seemed to be forcing himself to look back at her eyes, again and again.

"Or did you forget what the Wardens stand for?" she continued. "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice."

"You aren't dead," he said. His voice was suspiciously quiet.

"You still don't know how close a thing that was, do you?" she asked.

Alistair's frown deepened. "I know you were supposed to die when you killed the archdemon, yes. But I didn't know it then."

"And if you had?" she snapped. Kya tried to pull herself away, jerking her shoulder back, but he held her fast in place.

"Then I would have done it," he said. "And I wouldn't have to live with all of this. My magnificent prison."

Kya snorted. "Prison indeed," she said. "You have no idea what that means, your Majesty."

"I know exactly what it means," he snarled. "But it still doesn't answer how you are still alive, how he is still alive."

Kya wanted to lie. But although Alistair might have made looking stupid into an art, she knew better. He wasn't stupid, and he wasn't going to accept that she didn't know how she survived. She could already tell by the expectant look on his face that he was demanding an answer. And intended to get one.

"That is none of your concern," she said. She only hoped she sounded half as angry as she felt. "You left the Grey Wardens. Our concerns are not yours." She jerked her shoulder again and this time managed to wrench herself out from under his hands. "How dare you even ask?"

Alistair's hands fell limply to his sides. He looked at the ground.

"I didn't want it to be like this," he said. "I'm sorry."

Kya snorted. "Apologize all you like," she said. "I won't accept it until you accept that some decisions, hard though they may be, are still the right ones to make." She waited until he looked up again to continue. He looked back at her with a conflicted expression.

"When you accept that making Loghain a Grey Warden was the reasonable choice, I will accept your apology," she said. "When you accept that Loghain pulling the army out of Ostagar was the only choice left to him – that it was sensible to save the army when the only choices were the King and the Wardens die, or they all die – then I will accept that you are actually sorry."

Alistair looked incensed. "It may have been sensible, but that doesn't make it right."

"Perhaps not," she said, turning away from him. "But we did end the Blight, and that is all the matters, in the end."

"But at what cost?" he replied.

Kya closed her eyes. There was a clearly a cost here, that was true. She wasn't so blind that she could ignore it. There was a trail of bodies in her wake that turned even her stomach, if she took the time to think about it. There were shattered dreams and hopes in equal measure. And worst of all, who knows what Morrigan planned to do with her demon baby?

But as Loghain said, self-recriminations never help. All they do is make you blind to what you have to do to move on.

"Yes, you are right, about the speech anyway," Kya said, her voice bland and toneless, as she turned back around. She would answer one of his questions at least. "It is because of him."

Alistair looked ill. "Do you love him?"

"I do," she replied bluntly.

"That's the most disgusting thing I have ever heard," he said, sitting down again. "I don't know why I asked you to come."

"Neither do I," she replied. "But here I am anyway."

"Why did you come then?" he asked. He was pale as a sheet.

"Because I promised you I would," she said. "And I don't break promises."

"Don't you?" he said. His voice was strained.

"No, I don't," she said. "And before you say anything else, remember that I never promised you anything, except this."

"You knew it was going to end up like this all along, didn't you?" he said softly.

"What? I didn't know anything," she replied incredulously. "Do you think I had some intricate plan the day Duncan took me from the Circle that I'd become some sort of indulgent betrayer -- or whatever it is you think I am -- of the King of Ferelden, a king I put on the throne, and then end up in bed with Loghain Mac Tir?" Kya shook her head. "Yes, it was my grand and fiendish plan. Worked out well don't you think?"

"I still just don't understand how you could do it," he said, looking down at his hands and then back up at her.

"You don't understand, because you don't understand me," she replied. "And all in all, I think that is for the best. For what its worth, I will stand up there beside you, and I'll drag Loghain up there kicking and screaming if I have to. And we'll be there looking suitably stoic while you and Anora speak tomorrow. That's the best I can offer you."

"I guess that will have to be enough then," he said.

"Indeed," she replied. "I will see you tomorrow then, Your Majesty." The tone of her voice was final, abrupt. Kya could tell by the look in Alistair's eyes that he understood something at last. It had finally dawned on him that the Hero of Ferelden that he thought he loved had never really existed at all.

"Until tomorrow, Commander," he replied, gesturing towards the door. It did seem a rather regal gesture. Kya nodded and turned away before he could see the strange, sad smile creep on to her face.

He hated her now. And for both of them, it was the best thing that could have happened.


"So it appears that Anora is not going to have me executed after all," Loghain said as he walked up to Kya.

She was standing at the top of a rise, just above where they had held the meeting so long ago on the eve of the failed battle of Ostagar. It was where she met Alistair, in fact. She had discarded her armor. There was not going to be another battle today, not after her battle with the King. And armor had been useless in that fight anyway.

She was leaning against the remnant of a wall, her head resting back against one of the few remaining pillars the darkspawn war machine had not managed to destroy.

"Good to know," she replied softly. "Because if the king had his way, we'd both be leaving Ostagar in a box."

"You told him then?" Loghain asked, folding his arms across his chest. He had removed his armor as well, which seemed odd for a man expecting to be assassinated. But Loghain was funny that way.

"I did," she sighed. "It was fun. He is exceptionally reasonable you know."

"So I've gathered," he said, smug. "You didn't expect different, did you?"

Kya shook her head, still pressed against the close stone. "I don't know." She sighed again, trying to keep the unexpected nostalgia she was feeling out of her voice. Loghain took a step towards her but stopped when she spoke again.

"This is where I met him, you know," she said. "This exact spot."

"Is that so?" Loghain said, but it didn't sound like a question. It sounded more like an accusation.

Kya ignored his tone. "Yes, and that night, right before the battle began, I became a Grey Warden."

Loghain had no reply, except to take a step back.

"It's funny, actually," she continued. "I forgot about most of that, but being back here, I can't help but remember. And that man in the tent, in the gold dragon armor? He's not the same person I met here."

"We were all different then," he said. "It seems like someone else's life."

"I remember thinking it was so odd that he was a Templar, but he didn't look at me as if I was going to transform into an abomination at any minute," she said. "It was a nice change. He was more surprised that I was a woman, than a mage." She gave a bitter little laugh. "Even you only commented on my magic, although at the time I expected I was just one more annoyance."

"I honestly don't recall," he said. "I do remember meeting you, yes, but nothing much beside that. Although it seems your recollection of those days is clearer than mine."

Kya looked at him closely. He looked angry, and she had no idea why.

"I suppose they would be," she continued, trying to gauge his reaction. "I just think that maybe I miss the old Alistair a little. He was good to me, and I hadn't had much of that in my life up until that point."

"Do you now?" Loghain snapped. "Is that how it is then?"

"How what is?" Kya asked. She really didn't understand his reaction. He looked positively livid.

"You miss him, do you?" he snapped again. "I supposed it was only a matter of time."

"What are you talking about?"

Loghain took a step forward again. It was not a intimate move; it felt menacing.

"I've been here before," he said, his teeth grinding. "I thought this was different, but again I am the lesser man to a Theirin. Hardly surprising though."

Kya's mouth dropped open. "You don't think that I still . . . ."

He cut her off. "Don't you?"

"No," she said incredulously. "I miss my friend, and my own innocence. Not anything else."

"I find that hard to believe," he said.

"Believe it, Loghain," she said. "I'm not harboring any hidden feelings for Alistair, trust me."

"Are you sure?" he said, taking another step forward until he was looming over her.

If Alistair was tall, Loghain was a giant. As if the cold intensity of his eyes wasn't intimidating enough already. Those palest of blue eyes that seemed to see every dark shadow, no matter how well hidden. But Kya had nothing to hide, not about this anyway. She looked back at him, unblinking.

"Positive," she replied.

Loghain gave her a sudden surprised but devilish smile. "Good," he said, taking another step forward and putting his hands on her shoulders. He pinned her roughly against the pillar. "But there is still one thing."

"What's that?" she asked, not struggling against his weight pushing her into the stone. The stone was cold and rough, but his hands were hot.

"I think it best if your memory of this place is altered," he said. He leaned in until his lips were against her ear. When he spoke again his voice was low and husky. "All I want you to remember when you think of this place is me."

Kya smiled slowly, feeling his lips move against her ear and slowly down her neck. She shivered. Abruptly, he spun her around, pressing her tightly against the stone wall. She felt his hands between them, pulling at her robes.

"Right here?" she whispered.

He ground himself against her roughly. "Right here, right now," he said as he managed to work the back of her robes up around her waist. She felt the press of his skin against her. He tilted her hips back against him. He pushed his foot between her ankles and kicked her legs apart. Then he stopped. Kya could feel his heart beating rapidly against her back.

"Despite what people think," he said. "I have had little in my life I could actually call mine." He pressed closer. Kya could feel his burning heat against the skin of her thigh. He was almost there, but not quite.

"What I want to know," he continued. "Is if you are? For what little time that we might have, I want to know if you are mine."

"Completely," she said, turning her head so that her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

He made an inarticulate sound as he thrust his hips, burying himself inside her. His action pushed Kya hard against the cold stone of the pillar. But she didn't feel the jagged rock, she only felt Loghain pushed up within her, moving with a punishing rhythm. He was like a man possessed.

Kya braced herself with her hands, pushing back against him. One of his arms was wrapped around her waist, and the other enfolded over hers where it was pressed against the stone. Kya hung on for dear life.

He seemed to move endlessly until she thought she would collapse from the pleasure of it. Maybe everyone else thought they were wrong, maybe they were both completely ignoble and had done all the wrong things. But at this moment, it just seemed entirely too right for any of that to matter.

Maker spit on them all.

When it felt like she couldn't possibly take any more, when she knew her own body had responded to his more times than she was capable of counting, he shuttered against her. She felt the tremors, felt his whole body tense against her, his breath ragged. Finally spent, he sunk down to his knees, taking her with him. He cradled her in his lap, his face buried in her hair.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

Kya knew what was to come. It was only a matter of time, one way or the other, they would be parted. But that didn't matter. Even knowing it wouldn't last forever, didn't make it any less substantial.

At fifteen, she wanted the Teryn of Gwaren to be her father. At seventeen, she was infatuated with the Hero of River Dane. At twenty, she met Loghain Mac Tir for the first time right before the battle at Ostagar and she wanted to prove herself to him.

This man was a little bit of all those things, and she desired a bit of each from him. But he was also more than any other those things.

Names didn't matter. Titles be damned. Right now, they were just a man and a woman, holding on to a fragile thing that they knew would eventually break. Just as with everything else in life, death and duty would separate them someday.

But not today.