To davis. abigail81: First off, I apologize for changing your name, but I've got a bad experience with nicks with a period in them. This site does strange things to them… Anyway, I wanted to thank you for your faves and follows. I'm glad you liked this story and I hope this last chapter won't disappoint either.
Either way…yep, this is it. The day a certain part of Earth is lucky enough to get their hands on the game. I envy you all :D But it also means this story is done. I hope I helped you with the wait a little bit. And now, all of you lucky ones, read this quickly and off you go to profoundly enjoy the experience of how the story truly is :D Maybe this isn't the last time I write something about Ana, but that'll have to wait some time as the chances of my computer running the game are slim (but it does run Battlefield 4, so I'm hopeful :) ) Anyway, I'm done with my rumbling, sorry for it (people reading my other story from Mass Effect knows this annoying habit of mine well too much, don't you?)
Thank you again for sticking by me with this story and here's the final chapter. Enjoy! Hope you like it! (It's shorter than I planned it to be, but I really have very little time and this was all I could put together for this extraordinary day.)
Disclaimer: I don't own DA
"He who wields magic"
The heavy double door thudded close finally and the throne room got drown in a blissful silence. Anastasia let out a long, heavy sigh and slid down the throne slightly, her legs, knees, back and butt all protesting against the motion. All stiff and aching, she shifted, leaning against the armrest, arching her back over it, one of her knees thrown across the other one. She let her arms dangle next to her head as she stretched like a cat on the throne, her spine cracking loudly. A smile spread across her lips when she finally went limp again, enjoying the lack of anything pressing to do.
She'd spent the whole day sitting on the throne, listening to people's problems and trying her best to be just, strict and benevolent, kind, although not too much to make it seem a weakness, and understanding. Sometimes she'd had to make a decision she didn't like but knew was the best for majority of the parties involved. All this with help of Josephine standing close to the throne, whispering advices when needed and details Anastasia hadn't had the time to learn yet.
Then the door squeaked again, only for a fleeting moment as it opened a crack, just wide enough for a person to squeeze through.
"When you told me that guy was the last one, Josephine, I thought I would start crying from joy. The judging took forever today!" she moaned, sprawled quite disgracefully across the throne like it belonged to her. Which it practically did, when she thought about it. At least during the past few weeks when she'd been put into the head of the Inquisition in small, inconspicuous steps until she realized all the power was transferred from Josephine to her and her alone.
A soft cough made her eyes snap open. "I'm afraid, Inquisitor, there's still one man requesting audience," a velvet voice rang through the empty hall as its owner strode across it, head humbly bowed as he approached the mighty throne. He fell on one knee not far from it while Anastasia sit straight, hands in her lap, and a playful smile on her lips. Her weariness was gone all at once, replaced by an excited thumping of her heart.
"Very well," she gestured towards him with a subtle motion of her hand, "You may raise. What is it you need?"
"A moment of your time, Inquisitor, and your company," he replied, green and blue eyes looking up at her from below the dais as he rose to his feet obediently.
Anastasia took a slow breath. "A daring request indeed," she whispered, finally managing a straight face while inside she trembled with the need to wrap her arms around his neck. Was it even possible? A few weeks, and she all but burnt with the desire to be near him, to touch him and kiss him. With him gone, it had been easy to act composed. Now, with him right in front of her, she had troubles keeping still. "What makes you think you're worthy of my attention?" she asked in a calm voice despite herself.
"I am not a man without power," he reminded her with a soft smile, slowly shifting closer to the throne. He put one leg on the first step and stopped there.
"And you think this would interest me?" she asked slowly, deliberately rising to her feet. Her clothes rustled as she moved, the layered robes pronouncing her curves as she stepped down from the dais. She walked past him, close enough to brush his hand with hers and he whirled after her. He watched her ambling into the centre of the large throne room, eyeing the sway of her hips, the way her legs moved as she glided away from him. "I have practically the entire Inquisition under my thumb, have been running it for…" …a couple of weeks sounded too lame… "…some time now. I've got a vast net of spies at my fingertips, seasoned men to lay their lives for me…all this," she gestured around, "is mine to command. What more can you possibly offer?" she whispered.
"Actually," Cullen commented, "those seasoned men are mine."
She clasped her hands behind her back, taking a deep breath. "They like me better."
"I don't blame them. You're better looking after all," Cullen replied with a smirk, and his eyes left hers for a quick inspection. Winter had hit Skyhold quickly, burying it under drifts of snow with a help of biting gusts coming from the north. Freezing air forced everyone into warm clothes and furs, but despite the extra layers she wore she looked no less beautiful. He shook his head and walked up to her, his arms encircling her waist before he even thought about it. Her lips were just as soft and warm as he remembered, her hands trembling as they tangled in his hair. She made a soft, pleased sound in her throat when he pressed her close to him, both oblivious to the world around.
This time it wasn't a dream. He was here, with her, kissing her, touching. He could smell the sweet scent of her hair and skin, the familiar aroma of old books and candle wax. He could feel her warmth through her clothes and he didn't have to wake up into cold misery and long journey across half of Orlais.
He held her face firmly in his hands when they parted for air, their foreheads touching. Her eyes remained closed and she smiled dreamily. "How did you do it?" she whispered, her hands curling in his hair, still trembling uncontrollably.
"Did what?" he asked, watched her slowly open her eyes. The brown orbs studied his face for a moment and she gave a soundless chuckle, her hands dropping onto his shoulders. "Half a year ago, you were a stranger to me, almost an enemy I had to be wary of. That's what you were for a very long time until one day I just realized I liked you helping me up from the ground when Latica threw me down. One day I couldn't wait 'till dusk for us to sit around the campfire and talk about nothing at all. I looked forward to arriving to Skyhold for a chance to see you relaxed and smiling. I thought I was the one wielding magic here, but you have charmed me in a way I never thought possible."
His thumb caressed her cheek as she talked, and he watched her wordlessly.
"When I first came for you in the Fade and changed in front of you, you gave me a look of sheer horror," she frowned at the memory. "You were terrified of the creature I had become, not me, but it hurt and I could no longer pretend I was indifferent to anything regarding you." Then her face with lit with the most lovely smile. "When you kissed my hand the morning after that I melted in a puddle at your feet."
He leaned in to kiss her smiling lips again, and she eagerly responded until he pulled away. "I love you," he said simply. There was no need to tell her he felt just as confused and bewildered. The declaration was all that needed saying now. All that was left to be said.
All those nights he literally spent dreaming about her, getting to know her more, getting closer and closer to her, all those secret meetings none knew about but them. And yet…this was what he really dreamt about all that time. To hold her close and finally admit the truth he tried to conceal ever since he felt the pinch of jealousy at Leliana's innocent remark about Garret's feelings for the mage so many weeks ago.
Her eyes grew wide and she froze for a few heartbeats. "I love you, too," she whispered almost sheepishly and she smiled again and took a breath to speak.
A soft cough echoed through the hall and the two of them broke apart abruptly. Cassandra, with a mild smile, stood at the entrance and the spymaster of the Inquisition with her, a broad grin splitting the redhead's face. "At last," Leliana uttered. "Took you long enough. Now…" she begun, striding towards the pair, Cassandra hot on her heels. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but there are urgent matters to discuss, like that siege that's coming inevitably…"
The shocked news drained all the embarrassment away. "A siege?" Anastasia gasped as the redhead slipped her arm through hers, leading her away. "Yes, a siege. An army is marching our way and that's why we hurried to get back. I received the news a week ago. We've got no time to waste and there's much to be done before you can continue your…well…" she paused, smirking, "entertainment."
"…behind a locked door, I can promise you this," Ana heard Cullen mutter behind them. She shot him a smile over her shoulder. This was a promise she definitely liked.