Denerim 9:31

Two months after the end of the Fifth Blight

Morrigan had been the first to leave. She disappeared immediately after the battle, without a word, without a trace. Maebh now understood the tears that stood in the apostate eyes as she called her "friend" that night in Redcliffe. Maebh never made friends with women easily. She felt Morrigan's absence keenly. But she never spoke of it, especially not with Loghain.

Most of the rest left while she recuperated. This was not unexpected. An awkward visit, a note sent by a servant. It was easy to live together in camaraderie and joviality when faced with a common purpose, invoking gallows humor to shake the constant threat of doom from their backs. But once it was determined that she was to live, they began to drift away. Leliana on a pilgrimage to defend the Urn of Sacred Ashes, Zevran and Oghren on pilgrimages of more earthly pursuits, and Sten on the long lonely sea voyage back to his homeland. Each promised to write, but Maebh did not take such assurances seriously. She appreciated the attempt, and felt little bits of herself tear off as each left. She patched up the holes alone. And she never spoke of it, especially not with Loghain.

Wynne and Shale remained to see her through the coronation and wedding, for which Maebh was grateful. Shale's presence intimidated all but the hardiest well-wishers during the reception; and once Maebh could not bear any more, Wynne took her away with the excuse that she must rest. The mage and the golem left together two days later, seeking out the wisdom of ancient Tevinter. She longed to go with them but could not abandon her duty. She never spoke of it, especially not with Loghain.

And then it was the three who could not leave: Maebh, Loghain, and Sal.

Maebh paced from one end of the north hall to the other, feeling like a caged animal. After nearly two decades of being forced to stay inside, she hated being shut up behind thick walls for long. Anora had stashed her away in the remote north hall, and Maebh hated it. Away from the royal quarters, the Landsmeet chamber, the ballroom, anywhere else somebody could have accidentally stumbled across the queen's famous, inconvenient, half-wild sister. Those who went looking for her found her easily enough. Those like Alistair.

"There you are," he said, smiling as he approached her.

"Where else would I be?" she crossed her arms with a huff and turned to the window.

He stood behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and squeezed. "Anora said that you're planning on leaving?"

"Yes. First light."

"Maebh..."

"I have to, Alistair. I can't stay here. I have things to do."

"But it's the dead of winter! You're still weak! No, you can't go." He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her firmly.

She leaned her head back so that they were cheek-to-cheek and lifted a hand to his face. "Nora should have thought of this before stashing me away back here. You would never be so brazen if my quarters were in a more public place."

He snorted and buried her face between her shoulder and neck. "Like she cares about anything but appearances," he said, lips tickling the sensitive skin.

"Be that as it may, I still have to go," she said, frowning. "The Orlesians will be here soon. I can't have them in the capital. We're going to that Soldier's Peak that Dryden fellow was always yammering on about."

"And who, exactly, is 'we'?"

"Sal, Father, and myself."

"No Cauthrien?" he asked, with just a hint of mirth.

Maebh stiffened. "Don't even get me started about her. No, she is not coming. Besides, why should he get to take his... companion with him when I have to leave you here?"

"So you'll both be miserable together?"

"That would be the plan."

"Poor Sal."

Maebh shrugged. "At any rate, I have to concentrate on getting things ready. The last thing I need is to have the Orlesians arrive with the Keep in ruins. I won't let Father be humiliated like that; it's going to be hard enough as it is."

Alistair groaned into her hair. "Would you be terribly offended if I confess that I do not envy you in the slightest?"

"You say that like I'd be willing to trade places. Have fun with your trade summit with the Antivans next month."

He sighed. "Well, it's still a few hours until daylight..."

"Won't your honored wife wonder at your absence?" Maebh arched an eyebrow as Alistair's hands began to wander, caressing her hips and backside.

"I can deal with that tomorrow. Tonight? I want to be with you."

Maebh pushed aside the quiver of conscience and smiled. "I live to serve, my liege."

Maebh awoke with a start. The sun streaked into the room with blinding urgency. "Damn," she muttered as she started to wriggle out of bed.

Alistair mumbled something and tightened his arm around her waist. "No."

Maebh gritted her teeth. "I have to get ready, Alistair. And you shouldn't be here."

He pouted and pulled her closer. "Your King says you shouldn't go at all. Your King says you should stay here and do...Warden things."

"You don't count as a 'Warden thing' anymore. Not since you quit." She couldn't hide the edge of bitterness that crept into her tone. "Besides, we've been over this," she finally extracted herself from the bedclothes and Alistair's clutching arms and stumbled across the floor to the wardrobe to get dressed. "You can't possibly expect me to leave Father alone with the Orlesians."

Alistair sat up, yawned, and ran a hand through his hair. "Can you do me a favor? Can we try not talking about your father for the rest of the day? That'd be great, thanks." Alistair was even less successful at hiding his bitterness than Maebh was.

"You mean for the rest of the hour before I leave with... before I leave."

He frowned. "When are you coming back?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Alistair. When it's convenient? When I have a reason? You have work to do here, too. For example, important things like, oh I don't know, conceiving an heir."

She felt a sick thrill of victory at the look on Alistair's face. She had scored. He pulled on his trousers and picked up his shirt. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, weary.

"Doing what? My job?"

He yanked his shirt over his head. "Just let me know when you get there and are situated. Maybe I can find an excuse to come see you." He traced a finger along her jaw.

She took his hand and pressed his palm to her lips. "I wish you could come," she whispered, not willing to meet his eye and reveal the depth of her weakness. "But, well," she took a deep breath, and turned away, picking up a brush. "That's not an option, is it?"

"Maebh..." he said, voice soft with longing.

"You should go," she said sharply, not turning around. "You've lingered too long already."

An hour later Maebh met Loghain in the main hall. Sal was seated at his feet, eyes sharp and tongue lolling into a smile. He knew they were going on another adventure. As Maebh approached, Sal trotted over to her and whined. "No, this is it," Maebh said quietly. "Don't go looking, either. You'll only be disappointed."

"What's that?" Loghain went to her and picked up her pack.

"Oh, nothing. He... he knows."

"They do," Loghain looked at the dog and smiled. "They always do. Shall we off?

Maebh fell into step behind him. "It's funny," she said, "leaving with such little fanfare, considering how we arrived."

"You expected more?" Loghain scoffed. "Be thankful. These sorts of send-offs are always awkward. And stand up straight, girl. Maker's Breath, you walk like a peasant."

She squared her shoulders. "You don't have to carry my pack, you know. I'm quite capable."

"Nonsense."

She considered pressing the issue, but decided it wasn't worth the headache. "The passage should be easy enough. Dryden says there are tunnels leading up to the Keep, so we won't have to contend with the snow."

There was a bit of commotion behind them, shouts and footsteps coming from the palace balconies. Maebh did not turn around. Loghain glanced back, then at her. She stared straight ahead as she walked away.

"Yes, that is a bit of luck."

"Dryden!" Maebh called to the trader, waving. The commotion at the palace died away as they pressed on.

It wasn't until much later, after they had left the palace grounds and even the city limits that Maebh looked back.

"Forget something, Warden?" Loghain asked.

She grimaced. "I didn't say goodbye to Nora. Blast it, she'll probably talk of nothing else the next time we see her."

Loghain regarded her for a long, silent moment. Maebh felt the awkward blush deepening on her cheeks. "I wouldn't be concerned about her finding fault in your manners, Maebh," he drawled.

Maebh looked back one more time. "It would probably be best that we not come back, ever," she muttered sullenly.

Loghain turned with a bitter laugh and started walking again. "You should know better than to make promises you cannot keep."