A/N: Hello again! It has been too long, hasn't it? I didn't really think Dragon Age to be too popular in fan fiction anymore. Sorry! And with that, I must say that I am now resuming regular postings of this fic, now that I have a new laptop, and if I can stop thinking of Mass Effect fics. Anyway, yey! I suppose we can celebrate the new DA2 trailer, that had absolutely no cliches. *cough*

Chapter Five
"Hold me for goodbyes, and whisper lullabies."
~ Galapagos, The Smashing Pumpkins.

Two Weeks Later
Alistair felt as conspicuous as a Grey Warden riding in on a griffin whenever he travelled by horseback. He felt like he was announcing his arrival very loudly, and automatically stating his birthright's superiority over whomsoever saw him. He cringed inwardly. The sight always garnered a look of tested annoyance from the men, something he assumed was admiration from the women and a giddy look (at the horse, of course) from the children.

But for now, he would just have to suffer it. He had been lucky to travel back to Highever on his own for a second time, and especially lucky not to be in the reach of Anora's claws. He had to admit, he had warmed to the woman, but it was still strange to consider her his wife, even though they had been wed for quite a few years now. As had Trija and her husband.

He spotted the little girl before she made any noise. Trija's young daughter; identical to her mother in almost every way. He could pick her out just by the eyes, they both had the same look in their eyes that promised so much more than you ever expected you could deserve. The girl didn't notice him, though; she was immersed in deep conversation with a girl of her own age, about what, he couldn't tell.

Alistair tried to trot past unnoticed and quietly, which was near impossible for someone on horse. He felt utterly ridiculous, and was thrilled when the house came into closer sight. His thighs ached from the long journey as he hauled himself down from the steed, armour clinking with the motion and glaring lazily in the dingy sunlight. The voice had shouted his name before he could continue.

"Alistair!" Came the childish voice, louder still. He turned and saw the young Salvia running full pelt with a look of wild, untamed joy on her face. Alistair considered escape for a split second, but warmed as the girl grew closer, repeating his name as she wrapped arms around his vulnerable legs. She was giggling manically.
"I knew you would come back," she laughed. "I knew it!" It was damn near impossible not to laugh at the girl.

"Oh?" He grunted brightly, chuckling whilst trying to pry her hands from him.

Alistair tried in vain to prise the elf's hands from his waist. They had hardly just met but a few months ago, and here she was, bold as brass and laughing with that...glint in her eye. He found himself laughing in spite of it all. Escape was proving impossible. He knew having that dwarf in their camp was a bad idea; all he did was drink, and make lewd jokes. Usually in that order.

Success! He had gotten Salvia's hands from him, and held them by his side. He didn't intend it as a gesture of affection, he just didn't want them to attack him again. The girl smiled at him happily as he knelt to be her height. He opened his mouth to speak.
"My mum?" Salvia offered, her smile loosening slightly. "I...don't know where she is."

Trija could try to whisper the rather sinful thoughts racing through her hazy mind if she could just reach the damn ear. Maker, why were human men so tall?

Alistair's own smile lessened. He was panicking internally, but stayed calm outside. Something he had learned in his time as king. He furrowed his brow.
"Well...do you know where she could be? I really need-"
"I can try and show you. I have a feeling." The girl muttered.

And as soon as she was there, warm hands just in the right place, right where they were wanted had she darted off into the forest by the camp. Maker's breath! He had half a mind to chase after her, and perhaps show her some of the un-Templar like thoughts he had since they'd lit that fateful beacon.

Following Salvia wasn't hard. She was only young, after all. She had pointed to the clearing in the forest.
"Go that way," she instructed. "It goes by a river...a bank. It's nice, maybe."

With that, the girl left him to run to her friends. She feared that her father had already spotted her away from their house. It's not that he was that mean, it was that he would worry. She didn't like him to worry.

He had spotted her, there by the river, just sitting. Like a tree nymph fallen from the branches. Chasing her like cat and mouse, they'd dodged each other comically around a boulder, and a smattering of trees, hiding from each other like children. He could have easily caught her and done those things he'd been dreaming about, but the fun was in the chase.

Alistair batted a limp tree branch from his sight. The area had gotten thicker with even more trees the further in he had ventured. He, once again, entertained the thought of firing whoever decided the king must wear armour pretty much everywhere. How much further?

He could see her still, now. Her hair had gotten a little bit longer since they had first met, but for the first time in the short time they had knew each other for, she had it down now; completely free of braid and band.

Trija loved the forest. It was musky, lonely and magical. She could imagine the fairies from the old Elven stories had dispersed from this place upon seeing her burst in. She chuckled at the thought of them squealing in terror in the middle of their dance at the sight of her. Roar, she thought.

Alistair had spotted her the moment she had appeared; she lay upon the floor, curled almost in a ball. Panic twisted at him. He had no thought for himself as he sped to her side, hands forgetting themselves, the right falling on her leaf-twined hair, the left feeling her face for warmth.
"Trija?" He muttered to her, panic obvious even to his own ears as he repeated the name. "Can you hear me?"

There was an old lady in the Alienage who had told her a story of a malevolent spirit posing in the form of a young, incredibly handsome man who had a fondness for seducing proper young Elven maidens, and was a prisoner of the fairy queen for seven years unless he could find his true love. She couldn't remember what would happen at the end of those years. Something dramatic, she thought.

Right on cue, Alistair appeared, not quite so charming with his limbs almost dragging behind him and breathing heavily like the Mabari pup she so fondly kept back at camp.

Trija tried to wave coquettishly from the other side of the river she was on, placing a hand on her hip and jutting it out to the side. Alistair's searching eyes had spotted her, and he grinned at her wildly. The young woman flicked her hair over her shoulder, still joking. She laughed at him as he walked, knee-deep in to the river that seperated them.
"What in all of the Maker's green world are you doing?" She laughed, yelling so he could hear over the rush of the water.
"I'm coming to see you!" He shouted back, still grinning at nothing in particular.

After what seemed like centuries, Trija's eyes flickered opened. Her face was rather grimy and her light hair was twisted with the floor of the forest. Rain threatened overhead.

"Fine, but the dog's drying you off!" She shouted, hand cupped by her face. He was nearer to her now, but her vantage point had altered their height dramatically. She had the higher ground, he could only reach her shoulders, at most. Trija grinned down at the man, he now only just ankle deep in the stream. Her hands rested on the boulder she lay on, supporting her arms.

"Alistair?" She had whispered. Her voice was not as weak as he would have thought. She was strong still. Good. He smiled gently at her.
"What happened? Are you alright?" He questioned. Trija smiled, or grimaced.
"I'm fine," she drew up from her position on the floor, Alistair's hands awkwardly flying his sides once more. He hadn't realised he had been stroking her hair so tenderly. Idiot, he thought.
"Just...animals." She grimaced once more as the pain became more obvious.

She drew herself off the boulder, heart pounding she worried he may hear it and laugh at her. Throwing caution to the wind, she placed an arm on his shoulder in an intimate gesture. Alistair raised an eyebrow at the girl. Realising what he was going to do, the woman let her mouth fall open in premature shock.
"I...am...barefoot!" She gasped. He shrugged, grasping her arms and bringing her to splash in the water beside him. She gasped again, but from the freezing cold she was now submerged in.

"Animals?" Alistair asked. Trija pressed her hand to her side, still in pain.
"Yes, I'll tell you about it. I need you to help me now." Her words stirred something within him.

Trija realised her arm was still around the young man's shoulder from what he had done. Without a second's thought she met his lips with her own, kissing him passionately. His arms were hooked around her waist, and her own snaked around his neck, the feel of him warming her from the cold water, and the cold world.

"Get me to the healer's cottage," she gasped in sharp breaths. "She...can help me." Trija offered her arm to link around his neck so that he could support her. He tried to support her, mostly lifting her. Her body tingled in spite of the pain.
"It's not far from here," she spouted. "Just...near this edge of the forest. Won't...see Salvia. But, I promise, I'll tell you everything."

He couldn't quite get over how she felt in his arms. It was so new, so extraodinary. She had the power alone to make him turn into a blithering fool. Usually he could at least string a sentence together, but now, not even that. Even the tiniest syllables melted into nothingness in his mouth.

Trija felt amazing in his arms. He was amazing. She had only ever imagined feeling like this for Nelaros...but she had forgotten her husband for the sake of her own sanity. It wasn't awkward when they broke apart.
"Alistair..." She spoke at last.
"That was too soon, wasn't it? Oh, I'm sorry, I-I just thought that-"
"Alistair." She was firm this time. "Don't talk."
"Ok." He let out, rather breathless.
"Ever." And with that she resumed their kiss.

A/N: I know, I'm sorry! Please, the next chapter; all will be explained.