Notes: Wow! Sorry this took so long. I blame my trip to Gencom, a gaming convention, and other things my life threw at me, and playing more Hearthstone than writing. Sorry, sorry, sorry! One more chapter to go and perhaps I will follow up with some one-shots, so if you haven't subscribed to alerts about stuff I publish, you might miss new Lucy stories.

Anyway, without further ado, the penultimate chapter—Okay, slight aside first. I once thought penultimate meant something grander than ultimate. Tee hee!

The Spawn-O-Matic 5000

The door closed with a snick that echoed in my oversized room. At the end of the celebratory dinner, they gave us three rooms at the palace. It was late and cold. Safer to stay than walk through dark, cold Denerim. Besides Danny was sound asleep in the nursery. Of course, no one knew of the complicated situation and why the three people going to their beds would find them so desolate. Except Loghain. Had that been a hint of schadenfreude on his face as the three of us trudged up the staircase? I would've responded rudely, but Alistair and Anora were also watching us. At least they were blissfully ignorant of my complex situation.

So at the top of those stairs I went to my room, Zevran to his, and Anders to another. A guard watching over the hallway made it unlikely that we could visit one another's rooms without interesting rumors sprouting up the next day. Even if the guard hadn't been there, nothing had been resolved. For all I knew, Anders might take off again. What had happened while I'd been trapped in Kirkwall? I had no idea. Had anything been discussed or resolved between them?

I leaned against the door and banged my head against it softly in frustration. Something had to be done, but it seemed tonight wouldn't be the time.

~o~o~o~

Zevran hadn't missed the sorrow on Lucy's face as they'd each gone to their own room. Anders had seen it too and the two men exchanged a glance. There was much still unsaid between them. And there was the promise they'd exchanged, "If we succeed tomorrow, we work this out." Their success came as a surprise and the issue had been avoided on the return trip from Kirkwall and the few days since then.

There was no time, he thought. Immediately on their return, they'd hunted down Fergus and Loghain was always on hand.

The door shut behind Zevran and he changed into darker clothes.

What do you say to your wife's lover, the man who became a friend over the last month? There had been some flirtatious moments, things said in jest, but with a kernel of truth. It was an awkward state of affairs. He was the smooth talker, always with the right line, the phrase said in just the right way to dissolve small clothes. Social lubricant, if you will.

He shook his head, frustrated by his inability to see a clear path, or the perfect thing to say. There was nothing to do but hope inspiration would strike. He climbed out the bedroom window and carefully eased himself along the narrow ledge leading to Anders's room.

~o~o~o~

"What exactly has changed?" Anders asked the fireplace as he paced in front of it. "Everything is precisely the way it was before I left. " He paused, staring at the flames, and then huffed in annoyance. "And whose fault is that? I certainly could've, at any time, admitted to Zevran that I'd found him disturbingly hot as Daniella and that didn't stop when he turned into a bloke."

He paced again, following a track back and forth in front of the flames. Then stopped and put a hand onto the back of his neck and shook his head slowly.

"We're all idiots. That's the only explanation." He shrugged as he addressed the largest burning log. "Proud, stupid idiots. I should march over to his room and we can finally have this out. No! Better yet, fly over." He turned to the window and hesitated, then turned back to the fire.

"And say what exactly? Pardon me, Ser Crow, I just wanted to suggest a way to resolve this dilemma. If we all could just, um… No, that's not it. All right. Well, if he were a woman, I'd probably go over there with a bottle of fine booze, compliment her on her hair, settle in a bit closer—you know how it goes—move in for the kiss. Easy. Mastered that by age fifteen. But he's a damn assassin and probably knows all the moves anyway."

The fire fluttered in response to a breeze, one that wrapped around his neck and sent a cold shivering through him. He whirled about, finding the object of his monologue climbing into his window. Maker's bits! Had he heard him talking to himself?

"Ah, good. You're awake still. I thought we might have a little chat," Zevran said.

There was something about the way he said little chat that made him shiver. "Not like the little chat you had with Fergus, I hope?"

Zevran chuckled as he shut the window. "Do you think I'd do that to you, Twitch? After all this time? I've had more than enough opportunity, if that was my inclination." He turned and walked the short distance across the room, his pace slow but confident.

"All right. What is your inclination then? It does seem we have a matter still unresolved."

Zevran halted a few feet short of Anders. "My inclinations? They are fluid. I never expected to live as long as I have, so I take my pleasures where I can. Or did."

Anders watched Zevran's face, normally composed in a careful mask of nonchalance or killing intensity, twist into a puzzled frown.

"But it seems these days I have little taste for sampling a buffet filled with exotic foods," the elf continued. "The meal I most crave is the one I have every day."

"Are we talking about what I think we're talking about?" Anders asked. "Not food, right?"

Zevran took another step, now well within Anders space. Dangerously close. "Not food."

If Zevran didn't want to kill him, there was some other reason the assassin was drawing so close. Funny how difficult it is to see moves taken right out of your own playbook and used on you. It wasn't until he was practically nose-to-nose with Anders, eyes narrowed, hand woven into hair, and Zevran's lips hard on his that he recognized the maneuver as the "dangerous man ploy". It worked really well on the ladies. And, as he was now finding out, it worked on men too.

~o~o~o~

That was odd. I'd been waiting an hour, fully expecting someone to infiltrate my bedroom. Letting my décolletage air out in anticipation of some frisky business, I'd popped open a few buttons down the front of my dress. I poured two glasses of wine and waited, wondering which of my lovers would defy propriety and warm my bed. I was betting on Anders. He'd given me some really steamy looks over dinner, but then again, Zevran's hand had been planted on my thigh under the supper table.

Could they have simply been too exhausted from their mission and simply gone to bed and fallen asleep?

Inconceivable!

What if Zevran, attempting to sneak to my window, had slipped? I jumped to my feet and rushed to the window. Examining the ledge, I carefully opened the window, not wanting to dislodge him if he were out there.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Anders was good enough at shape shifting now; he could've flown to my window. The more I thought about it, the more I worried. Maybe an eagle got him? Were there even eagles in Ferelden? Something had to be wrong.

No. Waiting patiently like a good girl was out. I would check on them both and find out why they weren't here. Feathering up, I flew out of the open window, landing on the ledge of Zevran's window. It was open so I flew in and, dropping the spell, looked around the room. Not here. Oh Maker, now what? It wasn't fair! I hadn't survived the Gallows just to end up losing Zevran now. This couldn't happen.

Flying back out the window I headed to Anders's room. His window was closed so I rapped on it with my beak like a woodpecker. I could see a reflection of a dying fire flickering in the room and then something, or someone, stirred and a form got out of the bed and peered at the window. Zevran?

He came to the window and threw it open. Nude? I fluttered into the room and stood on the floor, cocking an eyeball at him, and quorked. It was a summary of my confusion and curiosity. Why was he sleeping in Anders's room? I fluttered up onto the bed and looked at Anders. He was looking tousled and had a silly grin on his face.

"Cara, I can explain, but please resume your own divine form. I feel silly talking to a bird," Zevran said.

Anders sat up in bed, his chest bare as he rose from of the covers.

I lost the feathers and stood rooted to the floor. What was this? The two men I loved. Had they found each other and forgotten me? My brain felt frozen, numb. I couldn't process a coherent thought.

"I uh… am I interrupting?" I said trying to cover my awkwardness with politeness.

Anders shook his head. "No you're just in time, I should think. Round two was about to begin."

My mouth gaped. My lovers were lovers. A pang of jealousy shot through me. What had gone on during the month I'd been gone? Maybe they preferred each other. I'd be a third wheel.

"I see," I said quietly. "I'll go. I didn't mean to…" My voice trailed off and I walked to the window, my heart felt like a lump of cold lead in my chest. As I reached out for the window, a pair of hands wrapped around my upper arms, stopping me.

"Cara, you are not permitted to leave."

That voice was like a velvet vice. Soft and hard. Unyielding, clamping me firmly into place. His mouth was planted next to my ear, breath hot. "We found two-thirds of a solution to a problem."

Anders got out of bed. "You're the missing piece, Lucy." He stood in front of me, naked as Zevran was.

"Solution?" I whispered. My mind felt like a block of ice that was just beginning to melt. There was an emotional war raging within me that was so perplexing I couldn't figure out what I should feel. Jealousy jousted with anger. Fear and doubt went mano a mano. Sadness and anticipation were dueling with pistols.

"Yes. You're always telling Danny to share his toys with Calenhad. Adults have to share too," Anders said.

Zevran's hands slipped from my arms to my waist and he pulled me into him, grinding his hips against my backside. I felt how hard he was against me and that lit up the sexual center in my brain—which some argue is actually my entire brain. Another emotion wheeled onto the battlefield and it was wielding a big fucking gun: desire.

The battle ended when, wedged between Anders and Zevran, clothes fell off my body and I was kissed by one, then the other, so hard I forgot how to breathe. This was like it was before, with Riordan, only entirely different. They had a month's worth of worry and anxiety to deal with. Every touch reassured them that I was here, alive, and still loved them both. While I managed to forget the last month and remember that I was alive and everything was now finally exactly as it should be. Well… more or less. Nothing is every perfect.

Almost nothing is perfect. In the afterglow of a thermonuclear orgasm, I decided that almost perfect was pretty damn perfect.

~o~o~o~

A fortnight before the second celebration of the ending of the Blight, the Dalish elf, Merrill, and her friend Doria Hawke, came to Ferelden. Doria was reunited with her sister and begged to join the Wardens. I broke the code of the Wardens and explained the risks up front. She didn't care. Ordinarily I'd have sent her to Nathaniel, but I owed the woman my life, so Anders and I performed the ceremony. She came through with flying colors. I took her to the palace and introduced her around.

"Who is that?" Hawke whispered to me as we walked into a room filled with nobles. She tilted her head in the direction of Loghain.

Just as she seemed to be drawn to him, he also turned around and looked at her, sensing her Warden blood, no doubt. He scowled at her, just as he had scowled at me the first day we met in Ostagar, in a way that made me love him a little. I could see her drawing herself up, meeting his scowl with one of her own. It was ferocity meeting fierceness. I could practically see little sparks flying as their eyes narrowed and met.

"Teyrn Loghain, the Hero of River Dane, and a dear friend," I said quietly. "Don't be put off by his manner. He's rude to everyone until he decides he likes you, and then he is slightly less rude. Would you like an introduction?"

She barely took note of my words, but it didn't matter. Loghain strode over to us. I held my breath for a moment, unsure whether they'd attack each other. Was this love at first sight, or hate? How do you tell with people like these?

"You've made another Grey Warden, I see," he said. "Is this the woman from the Free Marches? Hawke, is it? I've heard of you." He nodded at her curtly.

"Doria Hawke," I said. "I owe her my life. She wished to join the Grey Wardens, so how could I say no?"

"Indeed," Loghain said. "We all thank you for your service."

"The chantry overstepped their bounds once again," she said. "I was a citizen of Kirkwall, but in my heart I never left Ferelden. I couldn't let a countrywoman be kidnapped by power-mad templars. I owed my country of birth that much."

I could almost swear that Loghain smiled. "Will you be staying in Ferelden now that you've joined the Grey Wardens?"

"I intend to. I will go to Amaranthine and make myself useful."

Loghain snorted. "Howe can wait. I would like a full report on Kirkwall and, in particular, the Chantry. What you know could be very useful. Dinner. Tomorrow night. In my private library." He nodded to me, then turned on his heel and strode away.

I was grinning like an idiot. He liked her! Well, if that didn't beat all. I'd had dinner in that private library myself. That devil.

"Is he always that terse?" Hawke said.

"Terse? That was an eloquent moment for the man. Congratulations, he likes you."

She smiled at me and I could see the beginnings of a blush on her cheek. Perhaps the feeling was mutual.

~o~o~o~

The celebration of the end of the Blight arrived far sooner than I would have liked. When it came time to give my speech, Zevran insisted on observing from a rooftop to look for assassins. I saw him and exchanged a nod with him, discretely. Wouldn't want to tip off any assassins. After that, I doubted he looked at me again. He was too busy scanning the crowd.

Anora and Alistair jointly undraped the statues of the heroes while I feigned surprise. The crowd roared their approval, and then turned their eyes to the one remaining Blight hero. Me.

"Gentlepeople of Ferelden," I nodded to the crowd. My eyes found a few familiar faces: Ser Landry who had once challenged me to a duel, the former horse master for Rendon Howe, Teagan and his wife—pregnant once again—some of the elves in the Alienage I'd come to know.

"Your Majesties," I said, nodding to the royal couple and their entourage. Alistair was holding his boy's hand as he stood unsteadily next to his dad. My own son was with the royal nanny and standing with the couple.

"Momma!" I heard Danny's little voice pipe over the hushed crowd. I turned toward him and blinked away the tears of pride that little greeting brought to my eyes.

"And Danny," I said, tipping my head to him. The crowd reacted with a gust of laughter.

"It seems we find ourselves, two years since the end of the Blight, thanking the Maker for our good fortune, and remembering those who are not here with us to celebrate." I turned to the statue of Riordan and paused for a moment. I would never stop missing him.

"Let us always remember them, the brave men and women who stood up to the most fearsome thing any of us will ever see. Let us remember who stood on the top of Fort Drakon and battled darkspawn: Valiant warriors from all over Ferelden, the unrivaled archers of the Dalish, the utterly fearless and daring Dwarves of the Legion of the Dead, the mages of the Circle Tower, the unarmed elves of the Alienage who picked up arms of those who fell and fought with us, your King, and of course, the leader of Ferelden's army, Teyrn Loghain.

"We were one for a short time. Unified by a single purpose that terrible day: To live. To see our children, and loved ones, safe once again."

I stopped a moment for a breath and to let that sink in. There was utter silence. I hoped I wasn't pushing too radical an idea, that we were all the same.

"That was a day when humans welcomed elves to pick up arms and fight, when everyone was glad to see a mage cast a ball of fire at a wall of darkspawn, or healing the wounded. No one minded the Dalish walking into the city armed with their fine bows or using their creator-given skills to serve us and save us. We were equals in courage. Fine lords and ladies, farmers, crofters, banns, arls, kings and queens, Grey Wardens too. We are nothing but bags of flesh, blood, and bones knitted together with a will to continue."

I paused and saw some shocked and offended looks, but looks of fierce approval too. Casting a glance over at Anora, she looked worried.

I lowered my tone and smiled. "That was two years ago today. Those of us here survived. Our lives are coming back together, falling into what once served as a norm. The elves are back in the alienage struggling against crushing poverty—an opponent more intractable than the archdemon. The Dalish are back in their forests. The mages are once again confined to a tower, and the dwarves have returned to the deep roads to fight the never-ending war they wage against the darkspawn.

"But nothing has changed within us. We're still the same people we were on that day, each of us with the same desire for freedom, prosperity, and love."

I saw many heads nodding, but more than a few frowns, especially from those of the higher classes.

"If we learned nothing else from this experience, didn't we learn that if you strip away the trappings of class and race we are the same? We all long to make life better for our children and ourselves."

I'd outed myself as a radical now. I might was well drive the point home.

"You do me great honor with this statue, but I want us to think about the other heroes who stood with us that day. The heroes now living confined to a tower who could be making daily contributions to our safety and welfare with their Maker-given talents. Think too of the ones living in similar isolation in the alienage, and the Dalish heroes we chase away when they venture too near our farms or towns.

"If we learn any one lesson from the Blight, let it be this. We are the same. We are Fereldans!"

I raised my fist into the air and pumped it as I ended my speech on a shout. There was an answering silence that made me want to slink away into the Fade and reappear somewhere very far away. But just as my raised fist began to slowly sink, there was a smattering of applause. That was followed by cheering. I recognized some of the elves from the alienage and I nodded graciously at them. The Grey Wardens from Amaranthine began to clap and stomp their feet rhythmically. Slowly the applause was taken up by other and it swelled.

There were still plenty of frowns from the VIP section. Anora was biting her lip and I could practically see her frantic thinking. Alistair leaned over to whisper to her and then they both clapped, with enthusiasm. If it was feigned, I couldn't tell, but it had the effect of spurring on the rest of the nobles to follow suit.

Anders's eyes looked a little shiny as he beamed at me. I hadn't shared my speech with anyone, wanting to keep it under wraps. I was afraid someone would try to talk me out of it. It needed saying, and I needed to say it. I glanced up at Zevran's hiding spot and saw him flash a sign at me to signify that all was well.

I nodded to the crowd and left the dais to join the royal couple and my son.

"Well," Anora said, a crease between her brows telling me she was a little annoyed. "That was… interesting. I wish you'd—"

"It was a great speech, Lucy," Alistair interrupted her. "I agree with it completely. In fact, I think Anora has a thing or two she wants to say."

"Hm, yes." Anora lifted her skirts and climbed the stairs of the dais. She waited patiently for the audience to quiet down.

"My people. We have survived and now we thrive. Events such as these shape the future of nations, and we, being Fereldans, shall seize the day and re-shape our own future.

"Now that prosperity has returned to the land we can turn to recognizing the contributions of all those who faced certain death that day two years ago. I am going to work with the Chantry to ensure that our Fereldan mages are put to good use. After they complete their Circle training, they will be offered posts in every village as healers and protectors, to aid in whatever capacity their talents best serve."

I saw the Grand Cleric's forehead wrinkle at that, but if I knew Anora I knew she would prevail.

"The elves must also be honored and it is time to recognize them as equal citizens of this nation and especially in Denerim. No longer will our capital be ruled by an Arl, but instead there will be a council and that council will elect a leader. The elves will always have at least one seat on this counsel."

The elves cheered at that, but only a smattering of humans applauded.

Anora turned to me and her eyes twinkled. "I've also just been informed by Commander Cousland that she wishes to build a school in the alienage and provide free education to all elves, and any humans who wish to go as well."

What? I mentally reviewed my finances and realized that I could afford it. In fact, it was just the sort of thing I would have done had I thought of it. I grinned and nodded at Anora.

"You can't blame her for getting her revenge, Lucy," Alistair said quietly to me, beaming at his wife. "You did put her on the spot."

I laughed. "It was well done, Al. I am happy to do it."

The elven contingent erupted into applause and wild cheering this time. I waved at them.

"There will be other reforms to come in the months and years ahead, but for now, let us enjoy this week of feasting, gaming, music and dancing as we celebrate life and the rebirth of our nation!"

I had opened a large can of fat wiggling worms. How large it was, I found out in the weeks and months after the celebration as Anora, Alistair, and I began battling the entrenched forces of those who liked the status quo and those who are terrified by change. But gradually, ever so gradually, we implemented our plans and we saw meaningful changes in the lives of the elves and mages.

~o~o~o~

It was months before either of the Hawke sisters went to Amaranthine. Loghain seemed to always have some use for Doria. When they finally went, so did Zevran, Anders and I. There was to be a celebration there: a wedding. Nathaniel Howe and Mary Ann, the bossy serving girl, were marrying.

"Is she preggers?" I asked Anders as the blushing bride swept down the aisle.

"I would know this how? Do you want me to tackle her to the ground and check?"

"I thought maybe you could cast a discrete little spell and see."

"Cara," Zevran said, tsking at me and shaking his head.

I smiled at my sweet assassin and covertly held both their hands as the bride and groom said their vows, vows that I couldn't exchange, at least not openly. Perhaps one day we would cross that bridge.

~o~o~o~

Two Years Later

Danny was precocious. No, that is not just a proud mother speaking. He truly was precocious. He spoke months before Calenhad did and it wasn't long after that he began putting words together into short sentences. I attributed it to all the reading we'd done with him and all the time he spent with adults. There was no questioning his intelligence though. I began to believe I had a child prodigy.

But he wasn't just all intellect. He was charming too. My son always seemed to be able to disarm adults and deflect their anger by smiling in a certain way. He learned the power of his dimples early on. At first I was just as susceptible as everyone else, but I learned to avoid looking too long at him when he was trying to get his way. Unfortunately he learned that he could easily manipulate Zevran and Anders and with the three of them against me, I seldom won. So my boy pretty much got whatever he wanted. Thankfully, it didn't turn him into a spoiled brat.

I was happier than I had ever been for as long as I remembered, in this world or my prior one. The three men I loved most in the universe loved me, Danny, Anders and Zevran. I was only nominally involved in the Grey Wardens. Most of my time was working with the toilet factory, the alienage school, or working on my latest invention, toilet paper. There were relatively few attacks from darkspawn and the other Wardens handled it. Nothing horrible lurked in my future. Or if there was disaster awaiting me, I was blissfully unaware.

Life was pretty damn splendid and even the food was awesome. I was enjoying my supper in the Warden compound, while a blizzard swirled around Denerim. It was ungodly—strike that—unmakerly cold, but my little family brought warmth and happiness that made me forget about the hideous winter we were having. Danny was sticking pitted Antivan olives onto his fingers and pretending they were puppets. "Stop playing with your food, Danny. It will go cold," I said. Shades of my own mother crept into my voice.

"Ah, cara, let him have fun," Zevran chided me. "They grow up too fast, no?"

I rolled my eyes but squeezed his knee under the table. "The kid will have no manners," I said, knowing it wasn't true. He always seemed to pull it together when we dined at the palace.

"He's got fancier manners than I do," Anders said. "He just doesn't waste them on us."

"True, Momma," Danny said. "I know my manners. Nursey teaches us." He wiggled his olive clad fingertips in my face. I loved olives so I captured his finger and sucked an olive off of it while he giggled. Okay, that was oddly sophisticated for a four-year-old, but we'd become used to it.

"Daddy can we go for a ride tomorrow?" Danny asked.

Both men turned to him. "Ask your mother," Anders said beating Zevran to the punch line of so many of his questions. Danny called both men daddy. It caused a fair amount of confusion.

I pretend-scowled at my little angel. "In this weather? Are you insane?" My hand shot out to tickle his ribs. He squirmed and howled with laughter, flinging the olives off his fingers all over the dining room. I didn't mind the mess he was making, the hilarity of the moment was too precious.

In the middle of all that laughter and silliness came a sound that was so out-of-place I filtered it out until it happened again.

Boom, boom, boom. Someone pounded at the door. It sounded urgent and the pounding came again soon after the first had stopped.

"Who the hell…?" I stood, not waiting for a servant to answer the door. Zevran and Anders followed me to the foyer. I opened the door and my chin almost hit the floor.

"Morrigan!"

~o~o~o~

Notes: Thanks for the reviews! I would love to hear from folks about this story, or if you have any ideas for one-shots you'd like me to explore, please let me know in a review.

Thanks Biff for beta-reading! Thanks Zevgirl for the feedback!