Author's Note: Thanks everyone for the kind words! This chapter was one of my favorite to write, because... well, you'll see. :)

Chapter 56 - Homecomings

The journey back to Wildomire, where Bodahn and Sandal awaited them, took much longer than it should have. Between the groups' various injuries, including Brother Genitivi's still-sore leg, they were only able to walk for an hour or two before having to stop and rest. Added to that, the snow had piled up near the base of the mountain chain, causing further delays. By the time they stepped into the small village, it was nearly a week later.

"Ah, Lady Serena, how good to see you all again." The dwarf was sitting in the tiny inn, the only one Wildomire had, poring over a handful of maps in front of him. Trade routes marked in red crisscrossed the parchment. "I hope you were successful in your... endeavor?"

"Very successful, Bodahn, thank you for asking." Serena pulled up a stool next to the dwarf. She found his infinite cheeriness infectious, especially after the time they'd had getting back here. "I apologize it took us so long to return." She glanced around the inn. "Would you and Sandal be ready to leave in the morning? We want to get back to Redcliffe as soon as possible."

"Of course, of course," the merchant replied. "We've been itching to return ourselves. We do fine business with that Murdock fellow, we do. Did you know I've outfitted most of the militia now?"

"I hope you mean in weapons, since I doubt those men would fit in dwarven boots," Serena mused, smirking gently.

"Ah, the finest metals gold can buy, as you well know, my lady," Bodahn said with a wink. "We're all paid up for the night, so my boy and I will follow your lead in the morning."

"Excellent. Thank you again, Bodahn, for your patience." Serena got up before remembering why she'd bothered the dwarven man in the first place. "We found Brother Genitivi, too. He'll be joining us until we reach Redcliffe, then he'll get a ride from there back to Denerim... if that's alright with you?"

"Not a worry, not a worry," the dwarf replied, returning to his maps again. "You and your friends are quite the formidable folk, Warden, I'm sure he'll be no trouble at all. But if you don't mind me saying so, you lot look like you could use a solid night's sleep."

They arrived in Redcliffe in the middle of the following week; Serena realizing the chill in the air from the mountains had come down to settle in southern Ferelden, as well. Leliana let her know they had been on the road over a month, that it was nearly Firstfall, and the snow would be a permanent fixture on the landscape as the annum of Satinalia was upon them. Serena wondered if they would have to pack it in for the colder months... silently hoping they could get to Orzammar before the snow began to fall in earnest.

Heading in the front gates of Redcliffe castle, Serena was instantly reminded of the vast differences between this trip back and their return from Circle Tower. The courtyard was literally filled with soldiers, knights and militiamen alike, practicing and sparring with each other in an effort to train outside in the last vestiges of Funalis.

The heraldry of multiple towns and nearby villages flashed across the enclosure: the shield of Rainesfere, which made sense given Bann Teagan's presence at the castle; one knight wore mail that bared the symbol of Lothering, perhaps he had been one of the many that had escaped before the darkspawn siege... the thought trailed off as Serena noticed another shield, this one baring the two crossed spears and raindrop mark of Highever.

Before she realized it, Serena was turning toward the symbol, her feet automatically taking her to the man who bore the shield, as if the Maker Himself guided her feet.

"Excuse me, ser…" The knight turned and she recognized his shaggy red hair immediately. It was Ser Dalton, one of Fergus's guardsmen.

"My lady Serena!" the man said, falling to one knee. Beside him another knight from Highever fell to his knee, bowing his head solemnly. Serena had forgot this protocol the knights insisted on for her, having been away from Highever for so long. Indeed, she'd almost forgot she was a Teyrn's daughter. "The Bann said you would return here, but we didn't dare hope... the Ashes..."

"Dalton, I cannot tell you my relief in seeing you all here..." Serena felt hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "I must ask... my brother? How fares Fergus?"

"He is with the Bann, my lady. We just returned ourselves yesterday, from a raid in Sothmere." The knight glanced at his fellow, shaking his head. "The darkspawn grow ever bolder. We barely escaped the Wilds."

"King Cailan said you were sent on a scouting mission-"

"Indeed! Darkspawn ambushed us," the other knight cut in. "But luckily a nearby hunting party of Chasind men came to our rescue, slaughtered the lot of them. We lost nearly a quarter of our number, but I daresay they've quite made up for it. Fierce warriors, the Chasind. I'm surprised they came with us-"

"Fergus will be anxious to see you, my lady," Dalton added, standing again. He smiled gently at her, gesturing to the front steps, urging her on.

"I shouldn't keep them waiting then," Serena replied, nodding gratefully to the two men. "We shall speak later! I want to hear everything!"

"Of course, my lady," Dalton bowed. "But go! They have awaited your return for weeks!" The knight shooed her off playfully, returning to his training as Serena turned, Alistair at her side.

"Your brother is here?"

"He's here!" Serena cried excitedly. She grabbed his hand and together they took the steps two at a time, as quickly as Serena could manage, before bursting into the castle's doors.

Two men rose from their chairs as Serena's group entered the main hall. Bann Teagan was the first to recognize them, waving enthusiastically, his eyes silently imploring them. Beside him, a bearded man stood, although he appeared much younger looking than Teagan. Momentarily confused, Serena looked about, wondering if Dalton had been putting her on about the presence of her brother here.

"Did you find it?" Isolde's voice was sharp, tinged with equal parts hope and despondency, as if she didn't quite believe they could return with the Ashes.

"Isolde-" Teagan began.

But Serena was already nodding, motioning to Alistair. He pulled out the small leather pouch and they strode purposefully to Bann Teagan, handing it to him.

"We were successful, Bann Teagan," Alistair said simply.

Teagan stared at the pouch for a moment before wrapping Alistair in a tight hug. Beside him, it appeared as if even Isolde wanted to hug him, which was exactly why Serena had given Alistair the Ashes in the first place. Let her try and hate the man now that he's gone and saved her son and her husband, Serena thought smugly.

She smiled briefly at the scene before her her eyes noticed the bearded man again and he grinned at her.

"Sister, dear," he said. "How I've missed you."

Serena felt her eyes fill again as she recognized the voice, the kind eyes, her mother's eyes, through the thick dark beard. Limping awkwardly, she threw her arms around her brother, hugging him as tight as she could.

"Maker have mercy, Serena," Fergus complained. "You're going to crack a rib."

"Dalton was outside, he said the Chasind...?"

"I'll explain everything soon, I promise," Fergus reassured her. "Teagan told me you were searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes? How in the Maker's name-"

"We got them, Fergus! And I saw Father..." At his bewildered expression, she grinned. "You're right, there's so much to explain. Perhaps we should try to wake the Arl, though."

"I would like you and Alistair to be there, if you would, my lady," Bann Teagan added. "Eamon is just in here."

"Could Fergus-?" Serena began.

"Of course," Teagan replied, leading them and Isolde through the hallway and into the master chambers. "Let's see if the Urn's healing powers live up to their reputation."

Inside the room, Arl Eamon lay on the bed, his face sallow and bruised-looking. A healer was inside, chanting quietly at the foot of the man's bed as he breathed slowly in and out. Teagan explained it was all they could do to get what little soup they could into him, to keep him alive.

"You came just in time, really. I feared another few days..." The Bann pulled out the pouch of Ashes, handing them to the healer, who then sprinkled them atop the nobleman's prone form, saying a few words quickly.

For a moment, it appeared as if nothing was going to happen, and Isolde fell to her husband's side, a choked sob escaping her.

"Sweet Maker, please-" Serena whispered.

"I think I... did he just twitch?" Alistair was whispering too, his hand naturally finding Serena's, both of them looking tense as the Arl's hand twitched again. Suddenly a purple haze seemed to rise out his body, escaping from his mouth, as if the Ashes themselves were drawing the poison from his body.

"Maker's breath, it's working!" Teagan rushed to his brother's side as the Arl slowly opened his eyes. Isolde was clutching his arm now, crying openly with joy.

"Teag-" the Arl coughed and tried to sit up. "Wh-where am I?"

"Be calm, brother. You have been deathly ill for a very long time." Teagan exchanged long glances with the others. "Do you remember anything?"

"Teagan... what are you doing here?" Eamon sat up, his eyes trying to focus. "Where is... Isolde!"

"Yes, I am here, my husband." Isolde had what looked like an iron grip on him. Serena didn't blame her. Weeks of watching your husband waste away before you... She shook her head, unable to finish the thought.

"And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son, Isolde?"

"He lives," Isolde murmured. "Though... many others are dead. It is my fault, Eamon. There is so much to tell you."

"Dead?" The Arl peered up at the ceiling, his eyes closing briefly, as if he was remembering something awful. "Then... it was not a dream."

Teagan looked awkward for a moment before continuing, as if he wished he had stockpiled some good news for his brother's return to health. "Much has happened since you fell ill, Brother. Some of it will not be... easy for you to hear."

"Then tell me," Eamon replied, sitting up straighter. "I wish to hear all of it."

It was three full hours before they had finished catching Arl Eamon up on everything that had happened in the last few months. From Serena's introduction to the massacre at Highever and Duncan's offer of joining the Grey Wardens, to which Fergus looked at his boots, obviously uncomfortable hearing of his parents final moments.

Next came the story of the darkspawn overrunning the Tower, and the shock of Loghain's betrayal, his pulling of his troops at Ostagar. Then came the one-two punch of the deaths of Duncan and King Cailan there... With a side glance, Alistair wisely left out the part about their miraculous save from the Tower by Flemeth and Morrigan. The less said about witches, the better, his expression said to her.

The Fall of Lothering, the undead rising and the Desire Demon that had possessed Connor came after that, as Eamon put a hand to his head, his eyes seeking Isolde.

"Husband, I..."

But Eamon held up a hand to silence her. "You have made grievous mistakes, Isolde, as have we all. While I understand why you did what you did, in the end, it put all of us at risk, and that is something... I shall have to think upon..."

He turned to Serena and Alistair, who sat together quietly at the end of the table, only interjecting when necessary. "There is much still to be done here, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much."

"Alistair, Lady Serena... you and your companions have not only saved my life, but kept my family safe as well. A greater debt than that... I do not think I could possibly owe you. I hope you will permit me to offer you a reward for your service?"

"Arl Eamon... It is our honor, really..." Serena paused, fumbling on her words. She looked to Alistair, silently asking him for help.

"We humbly request your help with battling the Blight, Arl Eamon," Alistair said, bowing his head. "We are the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, thanks to Loghain's treachery, and while we have gathered the Dalish and the Circle of Magi as allies, we still require more men."

"We mean to go to Orzammar next, to enlist the help of the dwarves," Serena added. "But with your men, and what forces my brother commands, we would be... we would be an army to rival the one we lost at Ostagar. Perhaps even better."

"Of course," Eamon said, nodding. "I understand, and salute you both for standing with such purpose, but regardless of your motivations, I feel you are still worthy of a reward and I would like to honor your efforts. Please allow me to declare you and those traveling with you as champions of Redcliffe. You will always be welcome guests within these halls." Beside him, Arlessa Isolde was nodding fervently.

"Thank you, your grace," Serena said, bowing her head. She felt Alistair's hand on her leg, his strength comforting her. "We are... honored."

"We should speak of Loghain, Brother," Teagan said. "There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery."

"Loghain..." Eamon shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard about the man. "He instigates a civil war even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power."

"I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon," the Bann persisted. "He is mad with ambition, I tell you."

Eamon shook his head, his face grim. "Mad indeed! Mad enough to kill poor Cailan, to attempt to kill myself and destroy my lands..."

"He tried to have us killed, as well," Alistair added. "He contracted one of the Antivan Crows to do it." Alistair exchanged glances with Serena, smiling crookedly. "He failed, obviously."

"Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped," Eamon said firmly. "What's more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end."

"You could unite the nobility against Loghain, couldn't you?" Serena asked. She looked across the table to Fergus, who nodded. "Highever stands with you, of course. I'm sure others in the Bannorn would..."

"I could unite those opposing Loghain, yes," Eamon conceded. "But not all oppose him. He has some very powerful allies. From what you all have told me of Rendon Howe... it would appear they have been very... busy... since I fell ill. I'm sure the exchange of gold has... strengthened their numbers, at least some."

"The truth of the matter is we have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn." Eamon stood up from the table and began to pace. "I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king, but it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, Anora."

Serena felt Alistair stiffen beside her, his hand tightening almost painfully on her leg. Indeed, they both knew what was coming next, had known it would come eventually.

"Are you referring to Alistair, Brother?" Teagan asked. "Are you certain?"

Eamon turned, looking to Alistair, his eyes sympathetic. "I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative, but the unthinkable has occurred."

"I love how I'm the unthinkable alternative," Alistair muttered under his breath to Serena.

"Be calm, my prince," Serena said quietly, tapping his hand on her leg. Turning to Eamon, she raised her voice. "So you intend to put Alistair forward as king then." It wasn't a question.

"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage," the Arl said. "But we would seem oppotunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

"Bastard blood," Alistair said, louder this time. His eyes were dark with anger and another emotion Serena couldn't place.

"Alistair... please..." Serena murmured. "This isn't the time..."

"No, Serena. Damnit." He turned to the others. "When will it be time? Doesn't anyone care what I want?"

"You have a responsibility, Alistair," Eamon said, sounding every bit the exacting father figure. "Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?"

"I... but… I..." Serena placed her hand over Alistair's, squeezing it gently beneath the table. He sighed, the fight going out of him as he realized the truth of the arl's words. "No, my lord."

"I see only one way to proceed then. Once you and Lady Serena have returned from Orzammar, I will call for a Landsmeet, in Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another." Eamon looked from Alistair's sullen face to Serena's thoughtful one and sighed himself. "Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin."

"Do you think the Landsmeet will work?" Fergus asked. Serena looked across the table to her brother, thankful for his added presence at the meeting. "Our father said they usually devolve into nothing more than an enormous shouting match..."

"That depends," Eamon considered. "If we cannot gain a consensus in the Landsmeet for Alistair, we cannot afford to oppose Loghain either. Ferelden must stand united to defeat the darkspawn. A fractured nation will not stand against the Blight, even given my army and those fathered with your treaties."

"Perhaps Loghain gambles on this attitude, though." Fergus tapped out a steady rhythm on the table, a gesture Serena recognized from their father when he was thinking hard on something. "Perhaps he thinks that everyone will decide facing the darkspawn is more vital than facing him... and thus, he leads us against the horde, and secures the throne for himself permanently."

"That's assuming he ever officially recognizes the darkspawn threat at all," Alistair exclaimed. "He certainly denied it was a Blight enough at Ostagar." He nodded to Serena. "You heard him."

"Since we hadn't seen the archdemon yet, he insisted to Cailan it was not a Blight at all," Serena clarified. "But we have seen it, Alistair and I. This is a true Blight." She rubbed her head tiredly. "It would appear we have little choice in the matter, moving forward. We must oppose Loghain, and quickly, if we want the best chance possible to protect Ferelden."

"Exactly," Eamon said. "But before we adjourn for the evening, I believe there is the matter of the mage... my son's supposed tutor." He turned to Teagan. "You said he still lives?"

"Yes." The Bann nodded, signaling to one of the guards. "Bring Jowan here, if you please."

It was a few minutes of tense silence, Isolde looking particularly uncomfortable, before Jowan returned with the guard, looking much better physically than he had the last time Serena had seen him, although no less hopeful.

"Jowan. What you have done is not in question," the Arl said, his voice ominous. Serena wondered if he was actually angry, or just trying to sound intimidating. "You tried to assassinate me, and set into motion a series of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. What have you to say in your own defense?"

The dark haired mage hung his head in shame. "Nothing, my lord... other than to say I am truly sorry. I expect no mercy for what I have done. I should not have been so easily swayed to do evil by Loghain, and for that... I deserve whatever punishment you'll have for me."

"I see." Unexpectedly, the Arl turned to Serena, his eyebrow raised in question. "Lady Serena, have you anything to say on Jowan's behalf?"

"May I say, my grace, that Jowan, despite his mistakes, seems earnest in his desire to repent. Without him, we might not have reached the castle in time to help your son at all." She looked pointedly to Isolde, the silent accusation speaking for itself.

Between the guards, Jowan bowed his head to her, gratefulness etched into his features.

"I see. That is... surprising." Eamon, too, looked to his wife, an emotion not unlike heartache crossing his countenance. "And what would you have me do? As the injured party, my ability to see the merciful path is... strained."

"I hope your retribution could be saved for Loghain, my grace," Serena continued. "And that Jowan may be returned to the Circle. As a talented mage, I hope to call on his help personally in battling the Blight when the time comes."

"True enough," Eamon said. "And wisely said. We shall need all the capable allies we can gather in these dark times." He turned to the mage. "Jowan, I hereby turn you over to the Circle of Magi. My knights will return you to Kinloch Hold within the week."

"T-thank you, my lord. This is a mercy I do not deserve, and please know, I will not squander this second chance you and my lady have granted me." Jowan bowed low, his lank hair hanging in his face, big dark eyes wide, almost like a child's. "Thank you." The guards led him away, presumably back to the dungeons.

"I believe that is all for this evening," Eamon said with a sigh. "Isolde tells me your companions are already set up in some of the guest rooms. Alistair, if you would permit, I would like to speak with you after dinner..."

"Yes, m'lord," Alistair said softly.

"I shall see the rest of you at dinner, then." With a final nod, he disappeared with Isolde to the master chambers.

It wasn't until later that night that Serena saw Alistair again, alone. She was reading through Duncan's journal once again, trying to piece together the life of the man she'd barely known, but still felt such a deep connection with. His entries were scattered, some months and even years apart. It appeared, unlike her, he'd kept one journal his entire adult life, and simply added pages to it as needed.

Surprisingly, King Maric's name showed up quite a few times. Serena wondered if Alistair had known his late father had been a good friend of the Warden-Commander; that in lieu of being able to check on the boy himself, Duncan had unofficially watched over him for years... She closed the journal, setting it aside as the sound of boots came down the hall and stopped in front of her door. There was a long pause, as if the person was deciding whether they wanted to knock or not.

Then there was the sound, soft but urgent, and when she opened the door, Alistair was there, putting a hand to his lips, beckoning her to follow. Grabbing a cloak from her bed, she quickly pulled on her boots and trailed after him, walking as quietly as her slight limp would allow.

They traveled through the hallways until they ended up outside, on a porch overlooking the lake beyond. He leaned against a pillar, his eyes reflecting the moonlight, and in that moment, he looked... absolutely miserable.

"It's official. They want me to be king."

Serena came over and tugged him down to the bench, folding her hands in her lap. It pained her to stand for too long in one place, as her leg seemed to take its time healing completely. "We knew this would come, eventually."

"I just... I never thought things would get so bad I would actually be a viable candidate for the throne." Alistair ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. "Me. King! Who in their right mind would listen to anything I said?"

"Oh, I don't know," Serena murmured, leaning on his shoulder. "I'd swear fealty to you, my prince."

"You better believe you would," Alistair said ardently. "If you think I'm doing this without you..."

"How did it go?"

"Awful," Alistair replied. "Well, not awful, but... I don't know what Eamon was expecting, honestly. Should I be happy about this? It feels like everyone has control over my life but me." He rubbed his temples, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "Anyway, this isn't what I brought you out here for."

He fumbled at his neck, pulling a thin chain from around his neck. "Do you remember that ring my father gave me? In the Gauntlet?" At Serena's nod, he held the ring up, and Serena saw it glint in the moonlight. "It has an inscription. I couldn't read it... it's not the King's Tongue." He paused, staring at the ring, as if gaining strength from it. "I showed it to Brother Genitivi, though... did you know he can read elvish?"

"I'm not surprised," Serena murmured. "He's been on more adventures than we have." She glanced at the ring; Alistair was rolling it around nervously in his fingers now. "So... do you know what it says?"

"Ma emma sa'lath."

"You... my... something." Serena shook her head. "I don't know. Elora didn't teach me that much."

"You are my one love," he whispered. The ring flipped between his fingers again and Serena felt her stomach tighten.

"I wondered why would my father have a ring with elvish on it?" Alistair placed the silver band on his left ring finger, where it was obviously too small. "He must have worn it around his neck, like I did. He was given this ring, by someone who understood elvish. A woman who loved him. Then I remembered what he said. Your mother is an incredible warrior. An incredible woman."

"He didn't use the past tense," Serena said softly. "Your mother… she wasn't a serving maid at the castle, was she?"

"No, she wasn't." Alistair peered out at the lake again. "I asked Eamon. He said he never knew her personally, that Maric only ever told him that she was a Grey Warden. They had met in the Deep Roads during some secret mission, and after, she had been recalled to Weisshaupt permanently. It's why she insisted they concoct that story... about my mother being human, and dead."

"Human? Oh." Serena looked up from her hands, realization dawning on her. "Oh."

"The elvish," Alistair confirmed, looking at his boots. "An elven Grey Warden. It would appear I am equal parts my mother and father. Grey Warden and reluctant prince... Lucky me."

"Is she still alive? We could-"

"Eamon didn't know. Maybe? Weisshaupt is a thousand miles from here, though, deep in the Anderfels. I may never see her before... Assuming she's even still... I don't know. It's been nearly 21 years, anyway." Alistair gripped the ring tightly in his hand. "It's good to know, at least. To know the truth."

Serena leaned against him. "Are you okay?"

"I will be."

They sat quietly for a long moment, neither saying anything. Serena was rubbing her hand across his shoulder, unsure of what to say. Indeed, what do you say to someone who found out their mother, who they previously thought was dead, might possibly be alive, and a Grey Warden, and an elf, and… Serena sighed. Things were never easy for this poor man, were they? She leaned over and hugged him tightly, letting her actions speak for her.

"I spoke with your brother, too," Alistair said after awhile. "After I left the... the meeting with the Arl, I ran into him in the hall. It kind of felt like... he was waiting for me."

"Fergus? Oh, I'm sorry, he didn't say anything, did he?" Serena looked up at the night sky. Even after everything that had happened, Fergus was still Fergus. "He can be a bit... overprotective. I'll always be his baby sister, you know? I don't think he can help himself."

"You're lucky, to have him. Sometimes I think about Cailan and... well, I suppose it doesn't matter now."

"To have him back is a blessing," Serena said quietly. "I thought he was... anyway. What did he say to you?"

"We stepped into the study and he... thanked me. For keeping you safe when he couldn't." Alistair stopped rolling the ring in his hand and took one of Serena's. "He said he saw the way we looked at each other and he wanted to... He asked me what my intentions towards you were."

Serena's hand flew to her mouth in embarrassment. "Oh no, he didn't-"

"I replied that while I haven't known you for too terribly long, I... intended to ask you to be my wife."

"A-Alistair?"

"Serena..." He shifted off the bench then, coming to kneel on the ground in front of her. "You are my one love." He held out the small silver ring to her; his eyes were searching hers, that same look he gave her all the way back in Ostagar, as if he were trying to memorize her face forever.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes." She grinned. "Yes! Absolutely yes."

She held out her hand and he slid the ring on her finger, where it fit perfectly. It was made for a woman's hand, the inscription running across the top. Ma emma sa'lath. Then he was pulling her to her feet, wrapping her in his arms, his smile wider than she'd ever seen it.

"I love you so much," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I wouldn't even be here without you, Serena. If I'm to be king, it will be with you by my side as my queen, always."

"Always," she intoned, pressing a kiss to his lips. "So, my brother..."

Alistair laughed. "He said 'good luck, she's never taken to a suitor before, but maybe you'll be the first!' He's a good man, Fergus. I think it will be nice, having a brother-in-law."

"Oh, just you wait until he starts in on you! You'll be singing a different tune when he starts asking pertinent questions about our sex life." Serena tugged him back down to the bench, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her heart felt fit to burst. "Does Eamon know?"

"No. Just Fergus. And you. And me, of course." Alistair shrugged. "He'll find out eventually. I just figured he has a lot to be getting on with now, what with just waking up from a coma-"

"You don't want to tell him, do you?" Serena interrupted. "I don't blame you. I've only just met him, and the father figure business is a bit... intense. My father went on about duty a lot, but... yeesh. You two aren't even related, really."

"Yes... I'm not looking forward to the 'kings don't make rash decisions like marrying the women they love' lecture, certainly. I've thought about this for some time now, though." Alistair leaned back on the bench, his arm lazily resting across Serena's shoulders, his face looking much as it had when she met him Ostagar that first time- happy and carefree. "I can't imagine my life without you, why should I wait for some arbitrary amount of time to say I love you in a permanent way?"

"You remember what else my father said, right? I pray you do not repeat my mistakes. He lost the woman he loved, twice. I'll never let that happen." Alistair leaned over and kissed Serena's temple. "Besides, who else could handle all this gorgeousness?"

"Only you, your highness," Serena teased, shifting her body so she was straddling across his lap.

"Oh no, don't you start that..." Alistair began, but Serena covered his mouth with hers, stopping his protest with a deep kiss.

"Shouldn't it be your majesty now, anyway?" he murmured around her lips.

"Mmnnmmm… It's your majesty when you're officially king..." Serena kissed along his collarbone, punctuating each word with another kiss. "For now, you're only a prince until the Landsmeet, your highness..."

"See? This is why I need you. You know all this... royal information." He sighed, tipping his head back in pleasure against her machinations. "You know... uhhh... lots of... kingly... stuff..."

"I also know some very common-born stuff, too..."

Alistair raised an eyebrow, already lifting her up. "Oh, really?"

"Lots." She giggled as he set Serena back on her feet, tugging her back to their room to celebrate.