Disclaimer: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly imagine. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront!

When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric Tethras (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale.

A/N: I'm really messing with people's emotions lately. Not sure what's gotten into me.

Muse Music: Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson and As You Turn Away by Lady Antebellum.

Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers and to my betas artemiskat and Snarkoleptic.

Apologies to everyone who got the multitudes of spam from my last chapter. Here is hoping it never happens again!

Happy Reading!

-Frayed One

Chapter Forty-Nine: The Turning Point

After several minutes assuring herself that Nathaniel was actually awake and alive, Elissa sent for one of the healers, insisting that they look him over and make certain there was little chance he would relapse into unconsciousness. Nathaniel tolerated the poking and prodding and Elissa's constant watchful eye as well as he could manage, though he wanted nothing more than to leave the walls of the royal palace behind for good. An hour later, Elissa shuffled him off to the Warden Enclave with Zevran to pack their things and prepare to leave for Amaranthine.

Now, she stood on the balcony of the king's bedroom in the royal suite. The roses that Alistair had planted in the garden below filled the air with perfume, but the scent only made Elissa's heart heavier. It was the aroma of memory; of a time she was now certain could never be again.

"Should I call the guards?"

Elissa turned to find Alistair standing in the open doorway behind her, his normally relaxed posture rigid with anxiety as though he might actually have something to fear from her. The sad reality that it was a valid concern hit them both hard. Only a few days had passed since Elissa had pressed steel against flesh and leveled a very real threat in his direction, and the few words they had spoken since had not been exchanged in kindness.

Rather than answer, Elissa began removing the scattered weaponry she kept concealed on her body, ending with the large curved dagger strapped to her thigh. Once the last piece had been revealed, she stepped away from them and opened her hands – hoping it would illustrate that she was not a threat to him.

"The irony is, even with your arsenal at arms length, you're still just as deadly." Alistair laughed, short and sad, and walked forward to lean against the stone edge and look out over the garden. "Why did you come here, Elissa? What can we possibly have left to say to one another?"

"Alistair, I—" Elissa had been prepared for him to be wounded, for some sort of retaliation or anger, but this cold bitterness was so foreign and so unlike Alistair she had not seen it coming and it stung like a hand full of snow.

"I think it was pretty clear when you threatened to open my throat on the marble floor, you've made your choice, and it isn't me."

"I know you won't believe this now, but I never meant to hurt you, Alistair. That was never my intention." Elissa picked at her fingernails, unable to meet his eyes when he turned in her direction.

"And yet you have. More than you'll ever understand." He shook his head, a bitter smile curving up the edges of a mouth she'd kissed more times than she could remember, twisting it into something she hardly recognized. "I wonder if you even know you're doing it? Do you see all the malice you put out into the world around you? Leaving a trail of tortured souls in your wake as though they never really mattered."

"Tell me you don't really believe that?" Elissa fought to keep her voice even, the trauma of the last few days making it nearly impossible for her to rein in her emotions. "I think we both know that this has been over for a while now. I am here acknowledging it because I think we have to so that—"

"So that what? So that you can move on to your happily ever after with Howe?" Alistair snorted; turning toward her as the hurt and anger bubbled up past the cold exterior he'd been showing her. "Did you ever love me, even once, or was I always just a place holder until the two of you could finish this twisted courtship you started years ago?"

"Yes, Alistair, I loved you. I love you now."

"Just not enough to stay. Not enough to walk away from him." Alistair sighed when she didn't respond, turning to pace back inside the room behind her.

"I never meant for this to happen. When I met you, everything in my world was gone and I was scrambling for a place to stand – and then there you were, strong and funny and handsome. I didn't want to fall for you, but I did – and yes, Alistair – I loved you. I had every intention of spending the rest of my life with you, but the world is not always what we want it to be." Elissa paced up to the doorway behind him, fighting the urge to move closer, to reach out for him just one more time.

"The world is what you make it, Elissa. It always has been. Go here, do this, love me." He knew what those words were likely to provoke, but it had gone way too far now to take them back.

"I never wanted this, Alistair. Duncan died and Cailan died and suddenly it was just us against the world and you – you faltered. Suddenly there was only me to shoulder the burden of an entire country. Believe what you will, but you put me on this path, Alistair." She was angry now, and though she had every right to be upset by those accusations, she knew that her words were needlessly hurtful and ignorant of his pain.

"Do you think I wanted this? I never – I told you again and again I didn't want to be king – I begged you in the end, but you and your silver tongue made me believe it was the right thing for Ferelden; the right thing for me."

"It is the right thing for Ferelden! You are a good king, and the only man who can do what this country needs to make it through the storms that are coming. I know you don't see it, but it is where you belong." Elissa ignored his derisive snort and pressed on, striding forward into the room so that he would be forced to look at her. "There is so much Duncan didn't get to tell us, Alistair. A Warden's path lies mired in shadow, and you, you belong in the sun. The places I must go, you cannot follow."

"But Howe can." Alistair's laughter was bitter, and he heard Elissa sigh that he could not let it go.

"This isn't about Nathaniel. This is about us."

"It's never really been just us, Elissa. Howe was always there, even before he showed back up and started… infecting… you." He took a few steps back in her direction, and Elissa could see his temper rising again. "How can you do it? How can you lie with him, let him put his hands on your body, knowing who his father was – who his brother was – and what they did—"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Elissa darted forward, temper flaring dangerously before she could contain it.

"You're right, I don't – because you don't talk about it. You never have. But I'm not an idiot, Elissa. You show up here battered and bloody, half naked in my courtyard, and I saw the condition of what was left of your clothing. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out." Alistair watched her recoil as he forced her to address a memory she'd had no intention of ever revisiting again. "And still you can give yourself to him? The man is a monster, Elissa – it's in his blood! It's only a matter of time before he turns as well."

"If there is a monster in our partnership I can assure you it is not Nathaniel," Elissa hissed, eyes narrowed.

They stood for a moment longer inches apart but no longer suppressing the urge to reconnect, instead it was a moment of wonder whether they had ever truly known the other at all.

"I think it is time for you to go." Alistair turned and headed back to the hall door, anxious to get as far away from this moment as he could.

"This is how you want it to be? You want me to walk out of your life in anger?"

"Nothing about this is what I want it to be, but for now – yes. I need to be angry. I need to hate you. Because if I stand here and listen to the words coming out of your mouth any longer I know what will happen, and I just can't go through that again." He looked back at her one last time, backlit in the archway of his balcony door. She was every bit as beautiful as she had been the first time he laid eyes on her, but now that beauty was hidden in a darkness he could no longer break. "I would suggest limiting communication between us to messengers for awhile, unless we cannot avoid otherwise."

Elissa watched him pause a moment longer in his door, looking back at her with a mix of sorrow and anger than made her heart ache, and then he was gone.

When Elissa walked back into his room at the Warden Enclave, Nathaniel could instantly read the impact of her conversation with the king written on her face. Things had not gone well, though he hadn't expected that they would. If he'd been the one getting the send-off he was pretty certain Elissa had just given, he couldn't see himself reacting well either.

She smiled a tense, joyless smile in his direction but said nothing – moving instead to inspect the contents of her pack and make sure they were ready to leave.

"Did the king get his feelings hurt?" Nathaniel knew it was the wrong thing to say even before the words had left his mouth, but they were out now and he couldn't take them back.

"Please don't make light of this, Nathaniel. Alistair is a good man, regardless of what you might believe, and causing him pain of any kind was not easy for me." Elissa shoved the last of her things into her pack with frustrated fingers, releasing a long sigh of air.

"Are you regretting it then?" Nathaniel fought the urge to groan as he stood, a twinge of pain from his still healing wounds shooting down his side.

Elissa turned quickly at his motion, knowing he shouldn't be straining himself, and saw the doubt crossing his face once again.

"No, Nathaniel." She reached out to touch his face; clean-shaven once again except for the patch of hair he always left beneath his bottom lip. "I've made my choice, and it's you. I do not regret it, merely the pain I had to cause in the making of it."

"Good, because I have no intention of letting you go." He pulled her against him, pressing a kiss against her lips, relieved when he felt no hesitation from her in returning it.