First of all I would like to thank Megglesnake, LadyCallia, PheonRen, Warrose, tim94, and Jinx1983 for the awesome reviews! :D

I want to say here that it is not my intention to write a summary of what happened to Fiona exactly, as this is something you should discover on your own by reading 'The Calling'. Also, the purpose of this story is not to give you a detailed description of what happened in the book. Therefore, I am only going to refer to what is important to the plot, in later chapters.

Bioware owns, I just use the characters! :D

Chapter 27 - Fiona and Alistair

How can you just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold?
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father too bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry
Prince - When doves cry

.

.

Alistair let Fiona speak. He did not interrupt once. Not even when she started to cry.

When she did cry, she did so quietly, and he did not make a move to comfort her. For what she was telling him was no longer the story of how Maric and she had met. It was no longer the story of how they had flung themselves into a ridiculous journey deep into the Deep Roads searching for the commander's lost brother. It was no longer the story of how they had met the Architect or what had happened to them as Grey Wardens. It was no longer the story of The Taint or its corruption. It was no longer the story about how Maric had come to care for her, and she for Maric.

It had now become the story of where he was born. Where he was taken. And when she told him what she wanted for him, and how she had told his father that he deserved a chance to grow up away from them, to be free of their burdens...that was when she had started to cry quietly, and had been unable to stop the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

He had been abandoned because they had wanted him to be free. He had been abandoned because he deserved a chance in life. Away from the political machinations of court, and away from the bitterness of growing up as a half-breed, the son of an elf, who also happened to be a mage. Not that there had been a chance of that happening anyway. The wardens at Weisshaupt had ordered her to give him away. So she had taken him to Ferelden. She had taken him to Maric.

And they had decided what had to be done about him. And they had done this because it was what was best for him.

He felt like he wanted to scream, to shout or to hit something.

But he did nothing.

In spite of the fact that he knew they had truly believed they were doing the best for him, he felt that it was all wrong. That a chance for a better life for him had not been a better life at all. It had been a life of bitterness and rejection. Nobody had wanted him.

Not even his parents.

"Alistair," she said. "I know you will never truly forgive us for this. This is all my fault. You mustn't blame your father for this. He merely agreed to what I wanted for you."

He bowed his head and did not speak for a long time. Clenching and unclenching his fists several times, he finally looked into her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Look," he croaked out. "I'm not going to give into anger again, because in spite of everything, I do want to finally have a relationship with you. I feel you owe me that much, if not more."

Fiona's breathing hitched slightly, but she did not say anything.

"I do feel, however, that we'll have plenty of time to do that once this is all over. Right now, we need to talk about other things, and focus on the problems before us. We need to be able to work together. Arl Eamon is a man that is only interested in power. He also raised me, but did a poor job of that. All my life I've been told to do my duty. I did my duty to the Arl, by cleaning his stables and working around the castle. I did my duty as a Templar, much as I hated it. And I am now doing my duty as a Grey Warden. And while doing my duty as a Grey Warden, which is what I love the most, I meet the love of my life and my true mother suddenly makes an appearance. Now that's what I'd call sheer dumb luck, wouldn't you?"

He gave her a sardonic smile and she blinked at him thoughtfully, her tears finally stopping.

"And even though I do have every right to be angry and to tell you things that I may regret saying tomorrow, I feel that it will get us nowhere and I feel that we owe it to each other to start a relationship long overdue." He paused, his eyes dark, bearing into her very soul. Fiona did not flinch. She was looking at him the same way.

"And now, we focus on what we know. I killed the Architect and Utha."

Fiona's mouth parted slightly. She quickly shut it and shook her head.

"I never thought I'd see the day. Utha dead." She grimaced. "Even though I knew that you were the warden that killed The Architect, let me tell you that I know how dangerous it must have been. This...monster...nearly killed us all back then, when we were following our deranged commander on her mad quest."

Fiona shook her head again. "I spent the last twenty-five years at Weisshaupt trying to discover a clue of its whereabouts, commissioning Wardens to look for it in different places, to look for clues. Some of them never returned." She squared her shoulders, her eyes penetrating his again.

"Yes. The thing we are up against. This...Beloved. It will end the battle between darkspawn and wardens. And it will kill the General. The time will come when you will have to give it your blood. And I'm not so sure that I want that to happen." Alistair added.

"Yes, I understand. You don't want it to happen because of what it would do in retaliation when it discovers the truth."

"No," Alistair said, shaking his head, his expression suddenly softer. "I don't want it to happen because I want to protect you. Because you are my mother."

She nearly wept then.

...

He stood up to leave after having spent all afternoon talking with her, but she stopped him.

"Alistair, what are you going to do about the queen? About Eamon?"

He smiled as he looked down at her. It was a cocky smile and one of his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Oh, I have a good idea of what to do about all this. It will require another visit to the Empress, however, so I can't tell you what I have planned right now, until I see how that goes."

"I want you to know that whatever you do, I will stand by you." Her voice, calm but strong, didn't surprise him. He immediately realized why his father had fallen for her.

"Thank you, Fiona. That means a great deal to me. We'll speak again about all this later."

"And Alistair?"

"Yes?"

"Do not turn Chantalle away because she is an elf and that is what is expected of the heir to the throne."

He stared down at her, anger flashing momentarily in his eyes.

"I would think you would have more faith in me than that, Fiona. Truly."

Without another word or looking back, he opened and shut the door firmly behind him.

Realization hit her then. He was not his father. He had become a young man far from the political manipulations of the Ferelden court. He would remain at Chantalle's side, even more so because she was an elf. She nearly hit herself for what she had just said. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as pride swelled in her heart for this young man.

It looked like the nobles would be biting off more than they could chew with her son after all.

...

He took Chantalle out to dinner that night, to one of the nearby taverns. He had bought a dress for her in the market square and wanted her to wear it.

She had shaken her head, but smiled all the same and after having swatted his arms away from her, she'd taken a hot bath and gotten ready, while he sat at the table in their room, waiting.

When she came out from behind the screen, his eyes had widened at the sheer beauty of her. Her curves, accentuated by the dress, were tempting, and it had taken all his self-control to stand up and hold out his arm to her to escort her out of the compound.

The tavern was full, but he had secured a nice table for them earlier, paying in advance for it. It was secluded and away from the main hustle and bustle of the rest of the patrons, some of them seated at the bar.

He ordered some wine and then they placed an order for roasted chicken, potatoes and vegetables and sat, their hands entwined, gazing into each other's eyes.

"What would you say," he began, giving her a lopsided grin, "if I told you I want to marry you here?"

Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets.

"I would think you have gone mad!"

He burst out laughing, then leaned over towards her, taking both her hands in his.

"If this is what being mad is like, then I would like to be mad for the rest of my life," he whispered, his voice husky and warm.

"You are serious about this?" She shot back, still in awe.

"Of course I am. I cannot live without you, you know. I want to shout it out to everybody. I am in love with the most beautiful, kindest, strongest and smartest woman in all of Thedas."

She started to giggle, giddy now, her eyes twinkling like twin sapphires.

"You are insane, Alistair. And I love you dearly," she leaned over for a kiss, and he captured her mouth hungrily.

The girl who worked at the tavern appeared carrying the wine and two glasses. She smiled at them and apologized for intruding in Orlesian, but Alistair understood and chuckled, his cheeks pink.

He poured a glass for her and himself, and they held hands again, while he felt that there was nothing in the world that could tear him away from her.

"Of course, I do know our religion differs from yours. Would that be a problem?"

"No. It wouldn't. Even though I believe in the gods, I would marry you in the Cathedral," she said, lowering her long eyelashes. He felt a surge of passion coursing through his veins, the love he felt for her filling his heart completely, threatening to burst.

"Well then," he replied. "It is settled. I'll go check the Cathedral first thing in the morning and talk to the Divine if I can. Or the Revered Mother. Whomever will speak to me first. I'll take Fiona, of course. I'll be needing a translator. I'll see if they can perform the wedding the day after tomorrow, or sooner even. We'll have to shop for a wedding dress for you. Leliana can help you do that."

"Wait- what?" She replied in shock. "You want to marry me right now? Right away?"

"My love," he crooned, his voice nearly a whisper, leaning over again, his face barely a few inches away from hers, "it's not like we'll be living a long life as it is. We might as well seize the moment and start living our lives together, don't you think?"

"But-"

He pressed a calloused finger over her lips, silencing her words gently, then began to trace the outline of her lips, causing her to tremble slightly under his touch.

"I won't take no for an answer," he said. "Surely you know by now how stubborn I am."

...