A/N: There is an end in sight! This will be 12 chapters, working through the Awakening plotline, and then we're going to take the yellow brick road out into the fiction part of fanfiction. Keep your eyes peeled for updates as they become available.

Bioware owns this.

Dearest Elissa,

I hope Amaranthine is treating you well? How is the weather? Would you happen to have a spare room? I ask because Eamon has paraded no fewer than a baker's dozen of eligible young ladies before me in the last two weeks. They all have lovely manners and proper breeding, and wear very pretty dresses (I guess?) but nary a one knows the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end, as our dear Antivan used to say. I insisted to Eamon that I had every intention of actually having something to talk about with my wife, and spending much of my life as a soldier means that maybe she should have at least been a tomboy as a child, perhaps gotten dirty now and again just for the fun of it. I know we're still months away from that deadline we talked about, but I was hoping Eamon would let me be for a little while. Apparently the lack of an heir the last time around makes the nobles a bit twitchy. Frankly all this 'here have a wife' nonsense is making me a bit twitchy.

Could I hide in Amaranthine? No one knows me, I'm sure of it. Never been there before in my life. Well, except for that one time. But if I don't wear my shiny kingly armor, I'm sure I'll blend in.

I do owe you that royal audience, after all.

Alistair

# # # # # #

"Get a look at that elf," Anders elbowed him and spoke out of the side of his mouth as they walked past Velanna on their way towards the library. She was examining a tapestry and apparently not pleased with it. "Hello Velanna," he said cheerfully, and Velanna appraised the two of them with suspicion.

"I've seen her, Anders," Nathaniel pointed out. "You've pointed her out to me several times, if you recall," he added dryly.

"Oh I remember. I just thought warranted a bit of extra notice if she's going to parade around the keep like that. Her bits are barely covered," he added, pushing open the door to the library. "And I like a woman with tattoos," he said louder, now that they were out of earshot, as he took his customary seat and began resetting the chess board.

"She is...not a pleasant woman."

"What, and you're just a ray of sunshine, are you?" he asked, and held up two hands clutched around the pawns for Nathaniel to chose a color. "You're just sour that she doesn't take a hint."

"Hm," was the only reply he offered to the second charge, but to the first: "I see no reason to burst with excessive cheer, as some do..."

"Freedom's a beautiful thing!" Anders grinned, setting up the white pieces on his side. "I keep saying that, but I don't think any of you really understand," he muttered. "Point being, however, I don't care if she smiles before, she'll definitely be smiling after," he said lecherously, but looked up briefly to see Nathaniel looking slightly disappointed. "What? I'm a mage, she's a mage, we have the interlocking bits, and it's not as though my pursuits of our fair Commander are turning out all that successfully. I got more action in the Tower." He moved his first piece, and Nathaniel countered with a look that was almost a smile.

"Turned you down, did she?"

"Repeatedly. But in the nice way, as though it had nothing whatsoever to do with me," Anders was now looking at him pointedly, and he ignored the mage, removing a white pawn from the board and setting it aside.

"Your move."

Anders slid another pawn forward. "Actually, I'm thinking it's yours."

"Yes, that is generally how it goes, or have you forgotten the rules already?" Nathaniel slid his rook, purposely misunderstanding Anders's oblique references.

"Stop being so obtuse. What's the story there? There's obviously a story."

"Ask Elissa."

"Tried that, no dice."

"Well then you're out of luck."

"Except it seems that in a story of two people, there are, in fact, two people who could enlighten me. One avenue as been closed..."

"And you will get nothing from me. It is not your concern."

"Funny, she said it wasn't my 'beeswax'," he finger-quoted the word.

Nathaniel snorted and took another pawn. "You're not paying attention to the game."

"I'm using the game as a tool to get you to spill the beans. Work with me here, Nate."

"Please do not call me that."

"What, Nate? Special pet name?"

"What would it mean to you if I told you everyone who called me Nate is dead? Would that deter you at all?"

"Not at all. Means there's an opening. Plus, I can set you on fire with just a twitch of my fingers. I'm not worried." He removed a black pawn with a look of triumph, waving it in Nathaniel's face. "Besides, you're a liar. I've heard the Commander call you that."

Nathaniel sighed, and Anders, feeling the fringes of victory, allowed the silence to stretch for several moves, broken only by the monotonous ticking of the large clock in the corner and the sound the carved stone pieces made as they slid across the granite board.

"Talking to you is like putting up a public notice," Nathaniel began.

"Lips are sealed. Promise. Now give me the goods."

"If Elissa wished you to know, she would tell you."

"And clearly she does not wish me to know. But is that for your benefit or hers? Come on, I promise I won't squeal."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at him and took his knight, placing his king in check. "Check. Your intense desire to know makes me disbelieve your promise of silence."

"My intense desire to know is born of a burning curiosity."

"Perhaps it is a rash. Maybe you should have it looked at," Nathaniel replied calmly.

"You're killing me here. Just tell me."

Nathaniel sighed and internally, Anders was experiencing a whoop of victory which externally only showed itself in his grin.

"We were betrothed, several years ago."

Anders could not have looked more shocked. He expected a dirty affair when they didn't know each other's names, not something so serious. "Ha ha, very funny. Now tell me the truth."

"That's the only truth you will get from me. Check."

Anders moved his king again, but clearly had limited options, and was merely prolonging the inevitable. "So that's a bit sticky, isn't it? As I understand she killed your father."

"Merely one of the reasons it is 'sticky' but yes, that is a contributing factor."

"So you and the Commander..." he trailed off.

"No."

"Oh how sweet!"

"It was several years ago, Anders. She was practically a child. Hardly appropriate."

"And yet if you had been betrothed when she was a wee thing and there was no inappropriate behavior whatsoever, I doubt the two of you would be acting like such children now."

"I had not seen her for over three years when she recruited me."

"So what, did you break the engagement off?"

Nathaniel looked thoughtful for a moment. "Check. No, actually."

"So you are, it seems, still engaged?"

"I doubt it. We have both acknowledged that it was a tie that formerly bound us as opposed to presently."

Anders grinned and slid his bishop forward. "Checkmate."

"What?" Nathaniel looked down, and realized that while he was chasing Anders's king on the far side of the board, Anders had been setting up an army on his side. Clearly his concentration had been compromised.

Anders stood up from the small table, and stretched his arms. "I'm just saying. That's yours. Have at it."

"Have at it? This is not a wood chopping competition, Anders. We are no longer betrothed."

Anders stuck his tongue between his teeth. "So you're telling me that little bit of pewter with the Howe crest on it she wears around her neck isn't a betrothal token, then?"

Nathaniel had no reply, and Anders swanned off, whistling to himself.

# # # # # #

"Anders is under the impression we are still betrothed."

She stopped mid-chew, frozen with her cheek full of bread and a spoon headed for her mouth. She stared, wide-eyed, chewing the bread quickly (though with mixed success), to get it out of her mouth to speak. "Excuse me, what? What exactly, or should I say who exactly, gave him the impression we were ever betrothed in the first place?"

Nathaniel had no reply, and she sighed. "Nate, he weasels. Have you not figured that out? He weasles and he wheedles and he persists and why did you tell him?That's like posting a public notice! There were three people in this keep who knew. You, me, and Varel. I had to tell Varel because he was about to tie me up and send me to Weisshaupt and ask for a replacement because they'd put a looney in charge when I declined to hang you."

"I highly doubt that. Varel is very loyal and principled. If I remember correctly, it got him in a fair bit of trouble, but I doubt he would have sent you back like a bad dinner."

"He's going to tell everyone. He can promise he'll keep a secret, and he'll believe it himself, but the first person to look at him sideways, which will probably be Sigrun, he'll just let it spill like a poorly constructed levy. Between the two of them, everyone will know by dinner," she let her head fall forward, just to the left of her bowl of stew, and proceeded to thump her head on the table lightly.

"It is not as bad as all that. The past is the past, you said so yourself. We are both adults."

"And we're the only ones," she pointed out. He could only stare at her, and she sighed again. "You're right. You're right! It was going to come out sooner or later..."

"He noticed that you wear..." he gestured at her chest, where he could see the leather thong now had two knots in it.

"Sod it," she said, exasperated, and got up to leave, abandoning her meal.

"Elissa?"

She turned around in the doorway.

"I asked you once, and you did not answer me. I think you owe me an answer, considering the questions it raised are causing you ample exasperation." She reached up to touch it under her tunic. "Why do you still wear it?"

She stared at him, and chewed on her lip for a moment. Then she covered the distance between them, and laid a brief, soft kiss on his lips. "That's why," she said quietly, and moved past him to exit out the other doorway.

He reached up to touch his lips, wondering if he had imagined it.

# # # # # # #

"So. When you said you had no claim on him, what you meant was exactly the opposite," Sigrun cornered her. It had been exactly two hours since she and Nathaniel had spoken. And she had kissed him - she still wondered who took control of her limbs and made her do that.

"It wasn't just mine to tell. I had thought we weren't telling anyone, because it didn't matter now. But he told Anders, and Anders has clearly told you, and now I wonder why I didn't just tell everyone at the start. Now it sounds like we were keeping a dirty secret. We weren't!"

"Yeah, it definitely looks like a dirty secret," Sigrun agreed, and patted her on the arm patronizingly with a forced frown that was hiding a smile.

"And if I had said, at the start, 'we used to be betrothed', no one would have asked questions."

"You're right. Guess you'll know for next time," she said, and then kicked her in the shin.

"Ow!"

"That's for not telling me first. Having to hear it from Anders is like someone telling you second hand that your own mother died. It feels a little dirty, because you were supposed to already be in the know," she was frowning, but mostly putting it on. Her feelings had been hurt a little, but at least Elissa herself hadn't told Anders.

"I'm not good at…friends. You're going to have to help me out sometimes."

"Rule number one," Sigrun held up a finger. "Tell me everything. Rule number two, trust my judgment. Rule number three…" she trailed off. "I'm going to have to get back to you on rule number three."

Elissa smiled. "In the interest of rule number one, Alistair, who has more or less proposed to me, is visiting the keep to check up on his Wardens and to make sure that we're settling in."

Sigrun raised her eyebrows. "Proposed to by the king, eh? You've got men enough to share the wealth. Got a prince or a minor noble you can bear to part with? And an even better question, does he know about you and Nathaniel?"

"About me and Nathaniel what? There is no me-and-Nathaniel. He knows about the past history, if that's what you mean."

"Didn't he already wish you well before I showed up?"

"Yes."

"And he decided to visit again…when?"

"After I told him about Nathaniel and that business with the Architect. Though I don't wonder if maybe he should stay in Denerim until we sort this Mother/Father nonsense out. He is king, after all. It wouldn't do to have him come visit and be killed by darkspawn after he managed to avoid it for over a year when we were practically swimming in them."

"Ah."

"What 'ah'?"

"Coming to check on his investment," Sigrun said sagely, nodding continuously.

"Run that by me again?"

"Measuring up the competition. Oh this is going to be fun."

She looked at Sigrun, wide-eyed. "No, actually. No, it will not be fun. No fun at all. Not a good idea," she insisted flatly, looking slightly stunned that she had not connected the dots herself.

"When will he be here?"

"He hasn't left Denerim yet. Maybe if I can get a quick rider, I can give Eamon some ammunition about strange darkspawn that will make him keep Alistair far away from here."

"I'd write that note now, if I were you."

She stared at Sigrun for a moment before leaping up from the table and running towards the castle exit that came out near the stables. Sigrun just laughed to herself. This was better than that Rivanni romance she'd been reading. And here all she had to do was become a Grey Warden. Fantastic.