Spring bleed into summer, which faded into autumn before Eriana truly began to feel like she was getting her feet back under her. By the time the leaves began to change, she had stopped flinching whenever someone touched her or came up behind her unexpectedly. She attended the landsmeet and victory celebrations in Denerim as was expected of her, but for the most part, she stayed in Amaranthine, preferring to surround herself with the familiar presence of her Grey Wardens and the almost comforting pull of the taint coursing through their veins. It often struck her as amusing how the very thing that would kill her one day was the thing that brought her the most comfort. By the time the first snows of winter blanketed Vigil's Keep, her nightmares had returned to the normal darkspawn dreams, and Temmerly and his thugs had become one of a hundred other distant memories.

There had been no word from Anders in the months since he had fled, and Wiesshup had yet to turn up even a clue as to his final location. Nathaniel had been furious upon returning to find the mage missing and was ready to send out a search party to drag him back before Eriana stopped him. It would be a waste of their time and resources to attempt to track him down; the mage was just too good at hiding. The only thing they could have done was request his phylactory from the Denerim chantry, but that would put the Templars on his tail, something Eriana wasn't willing to allow. In the end, she convinced Nathaniel to simply let him go. They had bigger issues to concern themselves with, and they could manage just fine with Petra and the other healers.

Just after the final snows of winter melted away, a messenger arrived from Denerim informing them that the King intended on spending a week with them. Eriana was grateful for the notice. Alistair had gotten much better at letting them know ahead of time that he would be visiting rather than just showing up like he tended to do the first year they were in Amaranthine. She was also glad to have him pay them a visit. It had been a long time since she had gotten to spend any time with him and had only really seen him at political functions and Landsmeets. Even at those, there was never any time to simply talk to him since he was always surrounded by advisors or other nobles or was with the queen. Lately though, she had purposefully distanced herself from him in the wake of what happened with Eamon, afraid that he would sense that something was off. Now that she had fully recovered, she felt that she could spend time with him again. Nathaniel, though, was concerned about the purpose and nature of his visit.

"You don't think he's going to ask you to move back to the capital to be his advisor, do you?" he asked as he skimmed the letter.

Eriana shook her head. "I doubt it. I think he's realized by now what a disaster that would be. He's been schooled well enough in the finer points of popular perception by now, and he's hopefully realized just how little I would know about politics. Plus, I think he's finally realized that I'm an elf. Not that it matters to him, but he's been around long enough now to see how much it matters to most everyone else. No, this visit's of a personal nature; though, I'm curious as to what prompted it."

The dark-haired rogue shrugged, still combing the letter for some clues. It had hinted at a matter of importance to Ana, but as far as either of them could guess, there was nothing in the works in the capital. Their contacts in the city had given them no indication that there was anything amiss, and news was slow throughout the kingdom as well. Nathaniel sighed, setting aside the missive. Whatever the king wanted, they would find out soon enough.

-0-

It was all Eriana could do not to fling herself into Alistair's arms the moment he dismounted from his massive warhorse. It had been far too long since she had seen him, and she didn't realize just how much she missed him until he had ridden into the courtyard. She had managed to refrain herself though, deciding to wait until they were in private to throw herself into the King's arms. Propriety and all that.

Propriety went out the window a few seconds later when the carriage door opened up and someone Eriana hadn't seen in nearly three years stepped out.

"Lilianna!" she shouted, dashing across the courtyard to meet the laughing red head, throwing herself into her fellow rogue's arms. "When did you get back, and why didn't you come straight here? Have you been in Orzammar all this time? Did you find the Legion?"

Lilianna's tinkling laugh filled the courtyard. "How I have missed you, my dear. I am in Ferelden on business, so I'm afraid I had to go to Denerim first. That way I could spend more time with you without trying to rush to the capital."

"Business? Who are you doing business for?"

Lilianna smiled. "Why the Divine Justinia. I have recently been named the Left Hand of the Divine."

"Oh, Left Hand of the Divine," Eriana joked. "Does that mean I have to bow to you now?"

Liliann gave a slight shrug. "Technically, yes."

""What? Really? I was just joking."

"Officially, I am an extension of the Divine herself, with all the responsibilities and benefits that come with it. However, as I am here in a personal capacity and not for official Chantry business, such formalities can be suspended. Unless, of course, you want to bow to me; then you are more than welcome to."

Eriana laughed, giving her friend another crushing hug. "Oh, how I've missed you. Come, let me introduce you to everyone."

Dinner was a loud and rambunctious affair that called to mind memories of their travels during the Blight. Surrounded by those she loved, new friends and old, Eriana felt at peace in a way she hadn't since the brief time after the Blight. For a moment, the pressures of rule and war melted away, and she was simply able to be herself. The only thing missing was Zevran, and though everyone noticed his absence, no one mentioned it.

After dinner was over, Eriana, Ogren, Lilianna, and Alistair retired to one of the sitting rooms. Nathaniel excused himself, allowing the four friends a bit of privacy and a few rare moments together. After he left, Eriana flopped on the floor in front of Lilianna, allowing the Orlesian to undo her braids and brush her hair. Oghren was in the middle of a story about Velanna.-

"Well that crazy Dalish bint simply declared that she should be joining us and there was simply no arguing about it."

"Wait," Alistair interrupted, "only moments before she had been attacking you with her possessed trees. Please tell me that you sent her packing." The king glanced at Eriana who just shrugged, a smirk on her face. "Of course you didn't. She had just tried to kill you, so of course you brought her into the wardens with open arms. You were probably branding each other's hair around the campfire that night."

"I never tried to kill either of you, if you remember correctly," Liliana pointed out, shaking her brush at the king.

"Right, my mistake."

"She was never all that pleasant," Oghren said. "And we didn't exactly have time for hair braiding as we were fighting our way out of the Architect's lair. She spent most of her time at the keep, complaining about being trapped behind stone walls and criticizing our cooking."

"She sounds lovely," Alistair said. "When do I get to meet her?"

"She disappeared during the assault on the Keep. A portion of the wall fell near her, but we never found any trace of her," Eriana said with a sigh. "But given her ability to appear and disappear in trees, I'd say she used it as a change to escape. She's probably lost in the deep roads looking for her sister. We're better off without her. I was desperate for wardens at that time, I would have taken any willing recruit." She smiled, "Anyway, that's all passed, so why don't you tell us the real reason you are here. I'm sure you didn't come all this way to hear stories about long lost wardens."

"Well, no. I do have some news. It will become common knowledge soon enough, but I wanted to tell you first before the whole kingdom knows." Alistair took a deep breath and smiled. "The line is secure."

It took Eriana a second before she realized what he meant. "You mean Anora is..."

"She's entering her fourth month as best we can tell. She felt the child quicken just before I left. Our mages say that he or she is healthy and strong, and now that Anora has stopped spending her mornings hunched over a pot in the privy, it's safe to let the news out."

"Any sign of the taint?"

"None that I can sense, and my sense for it is pretty acute. It looks like my father's line won't die out with me."

Eriana threw herself into the king's arms. "Oh, Alistair. That's wonderful. You did it!"

"Yeah, well after three years, I was beginning to doubt, but it looks like our political gambit paid off. My father better appreciate the sacrifice I made to ensure his line."

Eriana snorted into her wine glass. "Oh surely it hasn't been that bad. Has she not warmed up to you after all these years?"

"There's nothing warm about that woman. Perhaps her maternal instinct will help her conjure up some warmth in regards to her own offspring, but who knows. There isn't open hostility between us any longer, but ours is definitely a marriage of political allies, not partners in any way other way."

"So no chance for a spare then?" Oghren said with a boisterous laugh.

"No, the heir was hard enough to come by. So long as he or she's a hearty child, I doubt Anora will darken the door to my bed chamber again."

Eriana gave him a sad smile. It was her fault that he was forever trapped in a loveless marriage; she had been the one to push for the union. She had hoped that they would find happiness together, but perhaps that was asking too much. They were what was right for the nation, but it came at a price for her friend. They all had prices to pay, though; such was the burden of leadership. "I am happy for you," she said, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before settling herself infront of Lilianna again. Lifting her glass, she saluted him. "Here's to his Royal Highness, King Alistair, and his heir."

Alistair gave an uneasy smile and took a sip from his drink while Lilianna turned her attention back to Ana's hair.

"I cannot believe just how long your hair has gotten," Lilianna said as she began pulling a brush through the blonde locks. "And I love these elaborate braids. Did I succeed in making an Orlesian lady out of you after all?"

"Not nearly. It's an absolute nightmare. I have to keep it in those braids just to ensure that I can pull arrows from my quiver. I'm still pants at doing it myself. Nathaniel actually hired a maid who knows how to put it up, and it's a nightmare when we're in the field."

"Why don't you just cut it then?" Alistair asked, sipping from the small glass of whiskey he had been nursing all evening?

Eriana just gave a noncommittal shrug. She knew very well why she didn't cut it; though she couldn't bear to admit it to herself, let alone aloud to others. Zevran had always gushed over her hair. In fact, the night before he had left her, he had told her that she should never cut it. Cutting it now just seemed wrong somehow. She glanced up to see Alistair glance at Lilianna then sigh and down his whiskey.

"Well, I guess there's no point in putting it off any longer," Alistair said, taking her hand and leading her to a couch so that she sat between Lilianna and himself. "I'm afraid that Anora's pregnancy isn't the only news I have." He took a deep breath to still his nerves. "I've had reports from Antiva."

Eriana's heart leapt into her throat. "Antiva?"

The King nodded. "I've had men looking into the area for some time now, but reports have been scattered. It seems as though there has been a major upheaval within the Crows. From what my men can gather, many of the masters have been killed off in an almost systematic way, almost like someone was attempting to overturn the entire order."

"Zevran?" Her chest hurt to even say the word.

Alistair looked to Lilianna. "We are not sure." Lilianna said, taking the elf's small hands into her own. "Who ever it was has been very good at keeping his or her identity secret, but yes, we believe Zevran was behind it."

"Was behind it? Something more has happened?"

Alistair took a deep breath. "You have to realize that reports are vague. The Crows are very good at keeping these things quiet. Dissension in the ranks is very bad for business, so is the loss of their master assassins. What news we have is scattered at best."

"But something has happened, otherwise you wouldn't be acting this way."

Lilianna knelt in front of her, taking both of her hands. "Mon cher, all has been quiet in Antiva for a while. Whatever has been happening in the ranks has stopped."

Eriana's throat was dry. "How long?" she whispered.

"About six months, I'm sorry."

Six months. If Zevran was the one behind this, that meant that he either died six months ago or he had succeeded and had chosen not to send her word. Alive or not, he was truly gone to her now. The last pieces of her heart, those that had clung to desperately to the delusion that he was returning, shattered, leaving her completely broken.

"Who is the new leader, then?" Oghren asked, breaking the silence.

"We don't know. That information has not made it out of Antiva, and I doubt it ever will," Lilianna said.

Eriana barely heard the exchange. It felt as though the walls of the sitting room were beginning to tighten in on her. She needed out, needed some air, just needed to be alone.

Rising, tightening her fist to keep her hands from shaking, Eriana stuttered out an apology. Refusing her friends' offers of company, she nearly ran from the room, her loose blonde hair flowing behind her. She ran directly to her room and bolted herself in before collapsing, sliding down the wall and to the floor. For the first time in a long time, she simply let herself cry, mourning for the loss of her child, her father, her love, and her future. For the past three years, she had clung to the hope that he would return to her, but that hope was dead. Foolish girl. She had spent longer pining for the man than she had spent with him. Three years of her already drastically shortened life wasted, thrown away, waiting for a man who never seemed to give her a second thought. Did he ever even love her in return, or had she simply been a means to an end, a shield to protect him from the Crows? Is that why he had left? Had he realized that her ability to shield him was limited to the walls of Denerim, where there was an army of wardens to protect him. Maker, she had been so stupid. A naive, young girl caught up in something bigger than herself, allowing herself to believe she was important to someone, allowing herself to believe that she was bigger than herself. What would a worldly, suave man like Zevran have ever wanted with the back alley trash that she was. Duncan may have pulled her from the alienate, but that didn't change what she what she was and what she deserved. Happy endings just don't happen; not for people like her anyway.

She was unsure just how long she sat, curled against the door, sobs wracking her body, but her legs were numb when she finally pulled herself up. Unfeeling, she walked to the wardrobe that held her box of memories. Rummaging around, she pulled out the item that she was looking for. Setting it on her dressing table, Eriana sat down and looked at herself. Her blue eyes were blood-shot and puffy from her crying. Drawing her hand down her face, she tilted her chin slightly, dropping her hand to trace her thin neck, remembering the feeling of Eamon's hands as they closed around her, remembering the peace she felt in those final moments.

Without thinking, Eriana reached for her silver hairbrush, pulling it through the golden locks, made silky and smooth thanks to Lilianna's attention. As such, it only took a few moments for Eriana to work her hair into a single long plaint that fell down past the small of her back. Cocking her head to the side, she gave herself a final look before reaching down and retrieving the item from her box, the dagger she had taken from Zevran the day he ambushed them. She had tried to give it back to him several times during their travels, but he had always refused. Spoils of conquest he had called it.

She carefully turned it over in her hand, inspecting it carefully. Such a delicate and deadly weapon with intricate markings in the blade and an elaborate design inlaid in the handle. Zevran's dagger, the one he had attempted to kill her with.

A quick motion was all it took. The weapon was sharp, so it didn't require a great deal of pressure to get the job done. It barely made a sound as it fell to the plush rug beside her.

-0-

Oghren was waiting for Nathaniel when the rogue came in from his rounds. "She's had some bad news and locked herself in her room. I think she'll be needin you tonight," was all he said before turning and heading to his own quarters.

Nathaniel wasted no time in getting into his own room so he could access the path between their rooms, his heart racing. He didn't need to be told; he assumed the king's visit had something to do with the situation in Antiva. His contacts in the Free Marches had hinted that there had been some turmoil within the Crows, but none of the information had been solid enough to mention to Ana. He guessed that the King had been keeping an eye on the situation as well.

Sliding open the hidden panel in her room, Nathaniel's heart leapt when he saw her slumped over the desk. For a moment, he was frozen in place, his mind going to the worst possible place until she raised her head and looked at him. He felt his chest loosen, and only then did he notice the blond braid, coiled like a snake on the ground behind her. She turned back to the mirror, examining her uneven, shoulder-length hair.

"On some level, I always assumed he'd be back for me. It's silly, I know, but it's why I never cut my hair. I knew he'd be upset if I cut it off."

"How are you feeling?"

"About fifteen pounds lighter, rather foolish, and somewhat lost." She met his eyes in the mirror. "I have no idea what to do with myself now. If I'm being honest with myself, my ultimate plan has always been to wait till he returned, then we'd plan the future together. I had just always assumed that one day he'd return, and we'd figure things out from there. Now that I know that isn't happening, I'm feeling lost."

"I've been there," Nathanael said, sliding into the seat beside her. "I was there when you found me. I had no plans beyond avenging my father's death. When you spared me, I had nothing, no hopes, no goals, no future. But I found one with you, with the wardens. It may take some time, but you will find your bearings again."

Eriana nodded, turning back to the mirror. "I know, I know. It's just going to take me some time to really come to terms with it once and for all." She glanced over at him, the look in her eyes tearing him apart. "It's closure, right? Knowing for sure that we're over. Maybe that's been my problem all along; I never really had closure. I'm silly for letting it hold me back for so long." Turning around with sudden resolve, she grabbed the braid off the floor. "Let's get rid of this, the last bastion of a lost past."

"Burn it?"

She glanced over at the fire for a moment then shook her head. "No, I have a better idea. Come with me," she said as she leapt from the nightstand, grabbing her cloak from beside the door. Nathaniel followed her as she made her way down to the stables. Not really understanding her intentions, he saddled one of the larger, more sure-footed horses and climbed into the saddle, offering her a hand to pull her up.

The moon was full and bright, allowing them to see clearly in the dark. Eriana guided the horse down a path that lead north toward the coast. For more than hour they rode in silence, the horse's feet crunching through the dead leaves the only sound in the night air. Once they arrived, he dismounted and turned to lift her to the ground. Quietly, she made her way to a cliff with a sheer drop into the Amaranthine sea. The light from the moon danced off the gently crashing waves, but Eriana wasn't looking down at them. She was looking straight ahead, as if she could see across the sea into Antiva. Without saying anything, she hurled the braid as hard as she could. It traveled a little was before the braid began to unwind, sending blonde hair fluttering in every direction, catching the air as it floated to the sea. Eriana watched it until it disappeared into the inky black water.

"Goodbye, Zevran."