Together Or Not At All

by RogueHunter06

"What in the Maker's name were you supposed to do when you liked a woman?" It's a question Alistair has asked himself far too many times since unexpectedly meeting her in the Wilds. And though he knows he should be focusing on the Blight, he can't seem to help himself around her - from falling deeper into his attraction for her. *OC, Cousland Warden with Morrigan, M for lemons*

31. Inappropriate

A/N: Hey everybody, sorry for posting this chapter a week late, things were a little busy and I had to delay this chapter a bit! I will try to not let this happen again! Anyway, here is the new chapter. A lot of conversations between people in this one, and some fluff at the end of the chapter, hope you enjoy!

Thanks to all those who have read, favorited, and followed this story so far - I'm glad you all like it!

Special thanks to my reviewers from last chapter, This is Not a FanFiction, Ioialoha, PheonixTears589, Valtharia, VivetteLeMorte, and cas.92. I love hearing from you guys, it makes my day! Special thanks also to anonymous Guest reviewer, I don't know who you are and can't reply to you directly, but I am happy to hear that you like Ayla as a character and the story overall! Hope to hear from you on this next chapter as well!

NOTE: 100TH REVIEWER WILL GET A ONE-SHOT GIFT FIC. SEE PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOR DETAILS. PLEASE REVIEW GUYS!

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own DA or related characters, just Ayla and the original contents of this story. Hope you like it!

Chapter 31: Inappropriate

Ayla sighed as she made her way back to the main hall. After sending her an apologetic and regretful look, Alistair had followed Arl Eamon out of the hallway they were in to speak to him alone. She had never actually been embarrassed or ashamed of her actions before, but after the way the Arl had looked at her, she was and she did not like the feeling.

He had looked at her with such disdain, it had been unsettling. She could almost hear him thinking the same thing that Alistair's so-called sister had said about her: that she was a tart, following him around because he was a prince. That she was seducing Alistair for what she could get out of him.

It was her own fault, really. She'd worn that dress with the deliberate intention of driving Alistair wild, and then had been so lost in the feel of his hands and mouth on her that she hadn't even heard Arl Eamon coming. It was an inexcusable mistake; what if they'd been out in the woods and the Arl had been an enemy? They could have both been in serious danger, and she was upset with herself for allowing it to happen.

What was even worse was that she'd wanted to make a good impression on the Arl, since she knew that he meant a lot to Alistair. She'd wanted him to view her favourably, and now she had made an obviously bad impression. She couldn't help but be worried that part of his conversation with Alistair would not only be about the inappropriateness of what they'd been doing in the hallway, but how she herself was not appropriate for him.

She wasn't used to worrying about what other people thought about her, and she most certainly wasn't used to worrying about whether or not people would feel she was an appropriate match for someone. But if Alistair was to be her life-mate, all the people in his life needed to accept her as such. What if the Arl somehow convinced Alistair he shouldn't be with her? She didn't think that would happen, but she didn't know for sure.

Then there was also the problem of what he and Aedan weren't telling her. When they had outlined the plan earlier, they had mentioned that the Arl would be calling a Landsmeet about Loghain when they got back from Orzammar, but nothing else. She could see that they were holding something back from everyone. She'd been intending on asking Alistair when they were alone later tonight just what that was. She suspected it might have something to do with his being a potential candidate for the throne, which only made it more likely that the Arl would not want her around. She knew enough about court and politics to know that in this world, she was not an acceptable match for a king.

All in all, what had started out as a really good night was now rapidly beginning to look like it might be one of the worst nights of her life recently. She entered the main hall finally, though she wasn't quite sure why she had gone back there. Probably in the hopes that Alistair would return there soon and she could find out what had occurred during his talk with the Arl.

She found her way over to an unoccupied stretch of wall, not certain that she wanted to talk to anyone just at the moment, and proceeded to lean against the wall watching the dancers while looking to see where the others were. Morrigan was still dancing with Aedan, the two looking as though they were quite enjoying themselves despite the stares they were receiving; Leliana was dancing with a man she'd never seen before, and Wynne was talking to another woman over in the corner. She didn't any sign of Sten anywhere; she guessed he had probably left shortly after the feast.

She was just thinking that she couldn't see Zevran anywhere either when she heard him say, "Ah, my dear, there you are!" She glanced over to her right to see Zevran coming towards her, smiling. He was wearing a black tunic and tan breeches that suited his coloring well, and had some of his blonde hair tied back, though the rest hung to his shoulders. "Would you like to dance?"

It would be better to keep herself busy than to agonize over what the Arl was talking about with Alistair, she decided. "Sure, Zev, why not?"

He took her hand and led her out to the dance floor, smoothly taking up the appropriate stance and expertly leading her around in a slightly complicated dance. She found it surprisingly easy to follow his lead although she was unfamiliar with the steps herself, and wasn't too surprised at his expertise in this area. Alistair had obviously been fumbling a little bit earlier, but she knew he likely hadn't had many opportunities or reasons to learn to dance, unlike Zevran.

"If you do not mind my asking," Zevran began after they had been dancing for a few minutes in silence, "is something wrong? You do not look quite yourself."

Ayla debated with herself for a moment whether to tell him or not, but she did feel like she needed someone to talk to, and he might understand. It did not help matters that she felt like a few of the partygoers were staring at her with judgmental expressions now that she was dancing with Zevran after having left the hall with a different man previously. Maybe she was just being paranoid; she didn't actually know if anyone had seen her leave with Alistair earlier, but she couldn't seem to shake the feeling that people were staring at her. "Well . . . yes. I am . . . feeling a little ashamed of myself, and it's not a feeling I am used to having."

He tilted his head, frowning. "What have you done that you would feel the need to be ashamed?"

"Well," she said slowly, "the Arl found Alistair and I in a . . . compromising position in the hallway earlier. He looked at me with such disgust – I just – I couldn't help the feeling. And now I feel as though some of the people in the hall are looking askance at me."

Zevran snorted, glancing around them at the other dancers. "Why should you care if they are? They know nothing about you. And how do you know they are not merely staring at the most beautiful woman here?"

"Zev . . ." Ayla began, unsure of what to say. She was flattered, of course, but she did not want him to get the wrong idea just because she had agreed to dance with him.

"Do not worry, my dear," he continued quietly, smiling wryly at her. "It is true, I had hoped that you might eventually tire of your Warden and allow me to show you all of my skills. But," he overrode her objection before she could voice it, "I know now after the incident with the dragon that it is sadly not meant to be. You love Alistair, do you not?" She nodded in answer, slightly surprised that he'd realized that, and Zevran went on, "I thought as much. He is a lucky man. My point, however, is that you should not concern yourself with what these people think of you. The only opinions that should matter are those of the people who do know you and cannot help but to care about you."

Ayla couldn't help but smile, feeling better already from Zevran's words, delivered with a seriousness she so rarely saw from him. "Thank you. I am truly happy to hear you think of me so highly. But . . . well, I cannot stop myself from worrying about what the Arl, at least, thinks of me. He means a lot to Alistair, and I am afraid he will now try to convince Alistair that I am not right for him."

Zevran shook his head. "You may be right about that, but I do not believe that Alistair is so foolish or cares so little for you as to actually listen to him."

Ayla sighed. That was what she truly wanted to believe, but part of her was afraid she would turn out to be wrong. "I hope you are right, Zevran."

"I am certain of it, my dear," he told her, guiding her carefully around a clustered group of dancers. "And if I do turn out to be wrong, I would be happy to fulfill any desires for you in his place." He winked at her.

She laughed even as she shook her head at him. "I appreciate the selfless offer, Zev, but I don't think I will be taking you up on it."

"Ah, well, it was worth a shot, was it not?" he asked, sighing dramatically. He paused for a moment before going on in a more serious tone, "So I am forced to ask: If we are not to be lovers, are we at least to be friends?"

Ayla smiled, her heart truly warmed by his question. "I certainly hope so. Zev, I think of you as one of my dearest friends, and I hope that you feel the same."

He nodded, his expression lightening although she thought she could detect a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Good. Nothing would please me more. Some friendships are worth pursuing, and you, my dear, are most certainly one of them. I am truly honoured that you would think the same of me." He studied her for a moment. "Might I ask you a question, though?"

"Go ahead," Ayla replied, curious as to what else could possibly be on his mind. She did still want to ask him about what the Guardian had said to him back at the Gauntlet, but she didn't think this was either the time or the place for it.

"I am curious to know –" he twirled her expertly before pulling her back to face him "- would I have stood a chance with you had you met me before you met Alistair?"

She bit her lip, considering how best to answer his question. She knew she would have bedded him, certainly, but in the long run, she would have still ended up with Alistair – he was her life-mate, after all. "Would it make you feel better or worse if I said yes?"

He shrugged. "Honestly? I do not know."

"Let me put it this way," she said at last. "I would have tested your . . . skills in more than one way, and I would have cared for you deeply as I do now. But I believe I would always have fallen in love with Alistair."

He nodded, looking unsurprised, then flashed her a smile. "I had thought as much. Perhaps it is best I do not know what I am missing, then." As the song came to a halt, he guided her off the dance floor. "Shall we get something to drink?"

"Come to think of it, I am thirsty," she replied, following him over to a table along the side of the hall that had been set up with various bottles and refreshments. They had no sooner reached the table than Wynne approached them.

"Ayla, may I speak with you in private?" the elderly mage asked.

Ayla frowned. She and Wynne were not close; though she appreciated the older woman's talents and help, she had always gotten the feeling that Wynne disliked her. So she had made a point of avoiding the woman where possible, and not getting to know her better as she had done with most of the others. Wynne had seemingly followed the same policy; this was the first time she could recall the mage approaching her just to talk and not heal a wound. She glanced at Zevran uncertainly.

He looked equally surprised, and his eyes hardened slightly as he looked at Wynne. He turned back to Ayla and smiled. "Go ahead, my dear. I will get something to drink. If you wish to dance again later, I will be happy to join you."

She smiled back at him. "Thank you, Zev." She turned to Wynne expectantly. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Not here," the mage answered, heading away from the table. She led Ayla over to a somewhat deserted corner of the hall, a little ways away from the table and the dance floor. "It will be quieter over here."

"Sure," Ayla replied uncertainly. "What is it that's on your mind?"

"I've noticed your . . . relationship with Alistair, and I wanted to ask where you thought it was going. Alistair is a fine lad, skilled in battle, but quite inexperienced when it comes to affairs of the heart. You, I suspect, are much more . . . experienced than he is. I would hate to see him get hurt." And there it was; practically the same look the Arl had given her, only Wynne was going to at least some effort to slightly veil it.

Ayla scowled. "Are you implying that I would hurt Alistair? I would never do such a thing."

Wynne raised her eyebrows skeptically. "If you speak the truth, perhaps you should stop carrying on with Zevran, then?"

"I – what?!" Ayla exclaimed, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was Wynne actually implying that she would string both men along?! "I am not carrying on with Zevran! We are just friends! As a matter of fact, we were establishing that just now, that I am with Alistair, and Zevran and I will never be more than friends. Not that any of this is your business, though!"

"All right," Wynne nodded slowly, though her expression did not change. "Even if you are solely devoted to Alistair, there is still great potential in this relationship for tragedy, for one or both of you. We are fighting a Blight, and he is the son of a king. You both have responsibilities which supercede your personal desires."

Ayla glared at the mage. She couldn't believe how nosy this woman was being! "If? For your information, since you seem so determined to poke your nose where it doesn't belong, I love Alistair, so whatever you might think, I am not interested in another man! Besides which, I am perfectly capable of handling my responsibilities and my relationships."

Wynne sighed, shaking her head. "You say that you love him; well, love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one's mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else. We cannot afford to be selfish right now, nor can a Grey Warden. Alistair has nearly lost his life already protecting you, and we cannot afford to lose one of the only Wardens we have left."

"You think I don't know that?" Ayla snapped. The old woman was really trying her temper. She had never been so close to hitting a fellow companion in her life. "I never asked him to protect me, and I don't want him to! I have told him that already. If such a situation ever happens again, I will make sure that Alistair is the one to live through it."

Wynne frowned. "You cannot be certain that things would work out as you desire. If Alistair is incapable of making the correct choice, which is to not be involved with anyone during this Blight, then it is up to you. You must be the one to end things before it is too late, so that he may put his focus where it needs to be."

Ayla threw up her hands, beyond frustrated with Wynne. Was she really serious?! "You know what? I am done discussing this with you. I will not end my relationship with Alistair just because you think it's the right thing to do! For the last time, this is none of your business, and you need to stop trying to force your advice on me; you are not my mother!"

Wynne's eyes flashed as she planted her hands on her hips, glaring at Ayla. "No, I am most certainly not. I would not have done such a poor job of raising you."

"What did you just say to me?!" Ayla snarled.

---

"Would you mind telling me just what you were thinking, Alistair?" the Arl asked coldly, facing him across his desk in the study. He was seated, his hands folded on his desk, while Alistair was left to stand.

He felt exactly as he had as a young boy, being dragged into the Arl's study to face punishment for having done something wrong, Alistair reflected. He did his best to stand straight and tall, facing the Arl, keeping his hands tucked behind his back because he had no idea what else to do with them. He'd gotten over the frustration he felt at the interruption, and now he was just embarrassed and ashamed at having been caught. "I . . . guess I wasn't thinking," he offered lamely. "I . . . didn't really think anybody would come looking for us."

"Indeed," Arl Eamon replied, his voice dripping with disdain. "That was one of your companions, was it not? Ayla, the mercenary, I believe?"

"Uh, yes, my lord," Alistair nodded, silently cursing himself. This was definitely not how he'd wanted the Arl to find out about his relationship with Ayla.

The Arl drummed his fingers on the desk. "Might I ask just how long this has been going on? Was this your first . . . indiscretion with her?"

"Well . . . not exactly," Alistair hedged. Maker, could this possibly be more awkward? How was he supposed to get this conversation back on the right track now?

"How long?" Arl Eamon demanded, fixing him with a cold glare.

"It's been going on for a few months, I suppose," Alistair answered quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I've been interested in her since I met her, but the, uh, indiscretions, started when we were in Denerim looking for Brother Genitivi."

The Arl sighed, dropping his face into his hands for a moment before lifting his head and looking at Alistair again. "Well, they need to stop now."

"What?!" Alistair exclaimed. Maker, was Aedan really right, or had he screwed this up by not telling the Arl sooner? "No, it's not just – I mean, I love her! I'm sorry, I'll be more careful, but I'm not going to end things with her!"

Arl Eamon shook his head, looking weary. "Alistair, you are still very young. She is obviously a beautiful woman, with some nice qualities I am certain, but this is merely infatuation. Once you become King, we will find you a more appropriate woman, and you will get over this . . . mercenary of yours."

"It is not just infatuation!" Alistair snapped, feeling anger rising in him. How could the Arl even think that he had no idea what he was feeling? "I love her, and I am not going to get over that by entering into some arranged marriage! No, Ayla is the only woman I am ever going to marry."

Arl Eamon raised his eyebrows, folding his hands together. "Is that so? Does she feel the same as you, or is she merely interested in seducing her way onto a throne?"

"How dare you-" Alistair was so furious with the Arl, he could barely form words as he stared at him, aghast. "Ayla is not like that! She loves me!"

"Hmm," the Arl regarded him for a long moment. "Does she know who you really are?"

"Well . . . yes," Alistair admitted reluctantly. "I told her and Aedan before we arrived in Redcliffe for the first time. But I also told her I had no intention of ever being king!"

"But she knows you are the only possible heir left now that Cailan is dead, does she not?" Arl Eamon asked inexorably. "How can you be certain she is not merely looking at you as a permanent benefactor?"

Alistair slammed his hand down on the Arl's desk, furious beyond his ability to express. "Because I know her! She is not that kind of person! She isn't interested in being a queen, or interested in me for money!" He knew he couldn't explain the real reason why she'd first been interested in him, because he didn't think it would make Arl Eamon view her any more favourably.

"Alistair, you must forgive me if I am sceptical," Arl Eamon began, "but you must admit that it is a possibility if she knows that you are a prince and will one day be a king. It would certainly be a step up for her as a mercenary, and you cannot be certain –"

"I am," Alistair interrupted him coldly, crossing his arms. "You don't know the first thing about her, or it would never enter your mind to think that! You have no idea of the things she's done, or how much she has tried to help the people we've met. Including you and the people of Redcliffe. She has been of great help to us on this journey, and we would never have gotten this far without her. You don't know what you're talking about!"

"All right," the Arl conceded, dipping his head in acknowledgement. "You are right, I do not know her. And she may indeed be all that you say she is. However, Alistair, that does not change the fact that she is not an appropriate match for you as a future king."

"You cannot mean that!" Alistair protested desperately. This was so not going the way that he'd hoped it would. "Just because she is not from some noble family, that does not mean she wouldn't make a great queen! Shouldn't the kind of person she is be more important? Or the fact that I love her and I want to be with her? You're already making me do something that I would rather not ever do! How can you deny me the only other thing I want?"

Arl Eamon sighed, his expression pained as he regarded Alistair. "I am afraid that who she is will be of great importance to the Landsmeet, Alistair. You will not be able to convince them that she is an appropriate choice for Queen. They will insist, and rightly so, that you marry a girl from one of the noble families. The future of Ferelden and the Theirin bloodline are of far more importance than anything else, I am sorry to say."

"Terrific," Alistair remarked bitterly. "So the fact that I am going to be a king means that I cannot have anything I want, not even the woman I love? Being a Warden sounds like a far better deal, then."

"We have been through this already, Alistair," the Arl reminded him gently. "For the good of Ferelden, we need you to be the King, not a Warden. And while I am sure it is fine for a Warden to count witches, assassins, and mercenaries among their friends and . . . lovers, it is not acceptable for a King. With that in mind, I must ask that you end this . . . relationship of yours immediately."

End his relationship with Ayla? No, he wouldn't, he couldn't. He couldn't possibly do that. The very thought made him feel as though he couldn't breathe. He wanted, more than anything, to tell the Arl that he was never going to be King, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not yet, anyway.

Aedan had been right all along, he realized. If he became King, he would never get to be with Ayla, which meant he had to go along with Aedan's plan. But part of Aedan's plan had been to convince Arl Eamon that he was going to be King until they were ready to tell him otherwise. Meaning that he had to agree to whatever the Arl wished him to do. But to end things with Ayla, to even pretend to do so? He just didn't think he could do that!

But maybe he could offer the Arl a compromise, he decided. It was worth a try, anyway. "All right, all right, I . . . understand what you're saying. But it will be some time before the Landsmeet. I will . . . agree to end my relationship with Ayla when I become King, without arguing, but only if you will allow me to continue the relationship until then."

The Arl considered him for a long moment before nodding. "Very well. If I have your word that you will no longer see her once you become King, I will agree to those terms. But in the meantime, I must ask you to be more discreet. We cannot have the whole of the Landsmeet and your future wife hearing about your indiscretions with her."

Alistair wanted to snarl at him that Ayla was his future wife, so it didn't matter, but he kept his mouth shut. The Arl had a point about being more discreet, anyway. He didn't want to ever be interrupted like that again, and he didn't want anyone to think badly of Ayla, either. "Yes, my lord. You have my word, and I promise we will be far more discreet in the future. May I have your leave to return to the party now?"

The Arl nodded. "Yes, go on. I will rejoin the celebrations in a moment."

"Thank you, my lord," Alistair replied, before turning and leaving the study. He headed back towards the great hall, hoping that Ayla had gone back there and was still waiting for him.

He was going to spend every moment he possibly could with her until the Landsmeet, he decided, just in case things did not go well. But he was also going to do everything in his power to make sure that he never became King. It was not what he wanted, and it was time he started looking out for himself, like Aedan and Ayla had advised. He had spent his whole life doing what other people thought was best for him, and he was sick of it. He refused to do it anymore. He was going to do what he thought was best for himself, and that was that.

He entered the great hall, looking around to see if he could spot Ayla. It took only a few moments before he saw her in a corner of the hall, talking to Wynne. He frowned as he headed over to the two women. He didn't think he'd ever seen them voluntarily having a conversation on their own. In fact, he was pretty sure Ayla made a point of avoiding Wynne.

He winced as a sudden thought occurred to him. Maybe Wynne had somehow heard about what had happened, and was lecturing Ayla about it. She did seem to enjoy lecturing people, after all. He picked up the pace; if he was right about this, he had a feeling her lecture wouldn't go over well with Ayla.

He had just gotten within earshot of Ayla when he heard her exclaim, "This is none of your business, and you need to stop trying to force your advice on me; you are not my mother!"

"No, I am most certainly not. I would not have done such a poor job of raising you," Wynne snapped back at her.

Oh no, Alistair thought, appalled that Wynne would even say such a thing. He reached Ayla just as she snarled, "What did you just say to me?!"

Fearing that Ayla's next step might be violent, he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her behind him as he stepped between the two women. "Wynne," he began, unable to veil his disappointment in her, "Ayla's mother died when she was very young. Even if she hadn't, though, you shouldn't have said something like that to her."

He watched as Wynne's eyes widened in realization. "I – I am sorry," she stammered. "I did not know."

Ayla stepped around Alistair, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared the mage down. "Well, maybe you should try getting to know a person before you make judgments or assumptions about them!" she snapped. "And for future reference, if I ever want advice from you, I'll ask. Otherwise, don't bother."

She turned around and stalked away. Alistair looked at Wynne, shaking his head. "I don't know what that was about, but you should apologize to her."

Before Wynne could respond, however, he hurried after Ayla. They definitely needed to talk. "Ayla, wait," he called. "Where are you going?"

She didn't stop or turn around, but she slowed down so that he was able to catch up to her as she left the hall. She sighed when he came up next to her. "I am going back to my room. I think I've had quite enough of this party."

"Mind if I come with you?" he asked softly. "We should probably discuss a few things."

She cast him a wry look. "Are you allowed to be alone with me after what happened earlier?"

Alistair couldn't help but grin in response. "Yes, I am." For now, anyway. "Besides, I don't really want an audience around when we talk."

"Neither do I," she agreed.

It only took them a few moments to reach her room, and fortunately, they did not run into anyone on the way. Alistair did not especially want to see the Arl just now, even if he had agreed to allow him to continue to see Ayla for the moment.

Ayla closed the door behind them, then sat down on her bed and looked up at him, her expression carefully blank. "What happened with Arl Eamon? Was he very angry?"

"I'm sorry about what happened," Alistair began. "I should have thought things through a little more –"

"No, I'm sorry," Ayla interrupted him. "That was my fault. I shouldn't have teased you like that, and I didn't even hear the Arl coming. If I had, we could have avoided all that."

Unable to help himself, Alistair grinned. "Well, I was kind of distracting you at the time."

She laughed softly. "I suppose you were. But still, I should have –"

He held up his hand to stop her. "How about we just say we were both at fault, and leave it at that? Next time, we'll just make sure we get somewhere a little more private before we start something like that."

"That sounds like a good plan," Ayla agreed, smiling at him. "I'd rather not be interrupted again. Now, seriously, what did the Arl say? Did he not tell you to stay away from me?"

Alistair sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He could see the hurt lurking in her eyes, and he really did not want to have to tell her this, but he knew he had no choice. "Yes, he did, actually. Aedan and I . . . we didn't tell you everything earlier. The Arl wants me to be King. That's part of what we're calling the Landsmeet for, so we can get everyone to back me instead of Loghain before we go up against the darkspawn. And . . . if I don't agree, the Arl will support Loghain instead."

Ayla nodded slowly, her face expressionless again. "So you agreed, then. You're going to be King."

"Well, yes, I agreed, but no, I'm not going to be King if I can help it," Alistair answered. Seeing her raised eyebrows, he explained, "Aedan and I decided that for now, we'll let the Arl think that I'm going to be King so he won't support Loghain. Once we get to the Landsmeet, Aedan is going to talk to Anora – Cailan's wife – and see if she will take the throne without her father, Loghain. That way, I won't be King, but neither will he."

"And you think this will work?" Ayla asked quietly.

I'm praying to the Maker it will, Alistair thought, before answering, "Aedan thinks it will. He doesn't believe Anora was involved with Loghain's plots, and he says she was a good Queen. Anyway, we have some time to work on it. We still have to get to Orzammar and back before we can even call the Landsmeet."

Ayla folded her arms, nodding as she seemed to be considering everything. "Okay. But you still have not answered my question. If Arl Eamon thinks you're going to be King, he must not want me around, right?"

Alistair went over and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. He hoped that holding her would make them both feel better throughout this conversation. "He doesn't want me to be with you, no. I tried to explain to him how I felt, just to see if he would care that I want to be with you, no matter what, but he wouldn't listen. He doesn't think you're a suitable match for a King. I'm sorry, love." He kissed the top of her head, his heart aching that he even had to say such things to her.

She sighed, leaning her head against his side. "I suspected as much. Given what he knows about me, it's only logical he wouldn't think me appropriate. So does that mean you need to get back to your room before he finds out you're in here?"

He tightened his arm around her. "No. I made a deal with him. I told him that I would agree to stop seeing you when I became King if he allowed me to stay with you until then. He agreed, so I'm allowed to be alone with you as long as we're more discreet about it." He winked at her.

She smiled in response. "I see. Since you never intend to become King, you don't intend to ever actually have to hold up your end of the agreement. But . . ."

"But what?" he asked her softly.

"If you are meant to be King . . . if that's what is best for your country and everyone involved . . . if it's what you want . . . I do not want to be what stands in the way of all that. I – I want you to do what you really want, even if . . ." she shrugged, trailing off, and he was appalled to see the sheen of tears in her eyes again.

"Ayla, no!" he exclaimed, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping both arms around her. "You are what I really want! You and being with the Grey Wardens. Being with you, and being a Warden, those are the only choices I've ever made for myself, the only things I've ever been certain I wanted. If Aedan says that Anora is a good Queen, then I believe him. It is best for Ferelden if they have someone that wants to be on the throne guiding them, and Grey Wardens keeping them safe. I'm meant to protect my country as a Warden, not a King. And . . . I want to stay with you, if . . . you want that, too."

She nodded, smiling at him, though it was a trifle wobbly. "I do, of course I do. I meant it when I said I love you, I just . . . I just do not want to be the reason that things go wrong in Ferelden. I think you would be a great King."

He smiled, touched that she thought he wouldn't be a complete failure as King. "Maybe, but I would be a completely miserable King if I couldn't be with you. You and Aedan told me I needed to look out for myself more, and you were right. I need to stop letting everyone else make my decisions for me. I need to take a stand and think about myself for a change, or I'm never going to be happy. And I don't think an unhappy king would be the best thing for Ferelden."

"You are probably right," she agreed, resting her head against his chest. "Anyway, if this is the decision you have made for yourself, if this is really what you want, that's all I need to know. Because . . . it's what I want, too."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." He leaned down and kissed her lightly. "So . . . since I am allowed to be alone with you now, I had hoped to be with you as much as I can, if you're willing."

She gave him a slow smile, taking his face in her hands and pulling it down to hers for another kiss. "I think you might be able to convince me. You still owe me a day in bed here, after all."

He grinned. "You're right, I do, and as luck would have it, we have a whole day tomorrow before we leave for Orzammar. We'll just have to be . . . discreet about it. And just in case the Arl comes looking for me tonight, I suppose I should go back to my own room for now." He knew that the Arl had allowed the relationship for now, but he didn't want it to look as though he was rubbing the Arl's face in it.

"I suppose you should," she agreed reluctantly. "I will just have to sneak into your room again later."

"You'll still be wearing that dress, though, right?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed. "Well, at least until I sneak into your room, I will be. After that, though, I think I will be wearing nothing."

He groaned, kissing her quickly before he lifted her up and set her down on the bed as he stood up. "You really do need to stop teasing me if we're going to be more discreet, you know."

She grinned wickedly at him. "But I do so enjoy it."

He backed towards the door, unable to help smiling at her in response. "I know you do. But I'm leaving for now, okay? Promise me you'll sneak in later."

She nodded, her eyes sparkling. "I promise."

"Good, because I want you with me, for as long as I can have you," he told her softly, seriously.

"You can have me with you always, if you want," she replied quietly.

Had she really said that? he wondered, marvelling. He had hoped she would say something like that one day, but before he had begun to fear it would never happen. But that was as good as her saying she would agree to marry him, and the very thought made his heart lighter, made it beat faster. "Always it is, then," he agreed, before leaving the room. He would make sure of it. Whatever he had to do, to make this plan work, to keep her, he would do it. It was time for him to be selfish, and do what he wanted, needed, to do for himself.