Reunited

by eliegloryofficial

Neria Surana was not supposed to be alive. Angry and hurt at the events that left her that way, she disappears into Ferelden after the Blight. Ten years later, Alistair Theirin is gone. Lost to the Fade with only a bundle of unsent letters and a decade worth of regrets left behind. And yet, nothing is ever quite so simple. [Alistair/f!Surana]

2. Chapter 2: Neria Surana

Reunited

Chapter Two: Neria Surana

Neria never did figure out how exactly Leliana had found her, the spymaster simply had. She had woken up one morning to find a large raven perched across the dead fire from her that squawked once before taking off, small scroll of paper falling off in the process. Her first letter had been short, simply alerting Neria to the fact that she had been found and that more letters would follow regardless of whether she answered.

She knew that her friends wanted answers, and she didn't blame them. After defeating the archdemon, Neria had disappeared. Rumors about her had circulated, most of them seemed to think that she had died not long after. A few said that she had gone insane from defeating the archdemon and living – something that was not supposed to have happened. A good number placed her beside the growing Grey Wardens as they rebuilt in Ferelden, fighting off the darkspawn that still remained. That one, at least, was partially true, as she suspected it was of most surviving Grey Wardens. She hunted down the remaining darkspawn, and even occasionally found herself directing eager recruits to where they were now convening. Every time she sent them on their way, Neria found herself running her fingers over the pendant around her neck, the one that she had not removed since Alistair gave it to her. How many of them would make it?

It wouldn't have been difficult to find the others, with her newfound influence. Neria had heard rumors about each of them in some regard, and she knew that they, at least in part, were looking for her as well. Once or twice, she happened a few other Wardens that asked her to join them, though she politely told them she wasn't interested anymore. She traveled, once, to Vigil's Keep to accept the position of Ferelden's Commander of the Grey, stayed as long as it took to handle the Architect and then promptly disappeared. She needed some time alone.

After everything that happened, Neria felt she deserved at least that much, deserved a break from people and constantly being sent on errands and all the other now-meaningless shite that had occupied her time before.

Being around her friends, even Leliana, was just too much of a reminder of what she had lost. Of what she should have lost and didn't for no reason other than spite. Neria ran a hand through her hair, trying to banish these thoughts. The last ten years by herself had made her exceptionally good at keeping her thoughts away from the Blight, but it was difficult, now, with the low echoes of a song playing in the back of her head. She couldn't get it out, couldn't make the Calling leave her thoughts no matter how many times she told herself it wasn't real, couldn't be real. It was too early, she just needed a little more time…

For what wasn't the first time, the elf glanced down at the message in front of her. "Do not listen to the Calling, Neria. Do not go to Adamant, either. It isn't real. I will explain more as soon as I receive confirmation that you have not already wandered your way back to the Deep Roads." She had assumed as much, but the song terrified her in a way she hadn't expected, so she dropped everything and began heading back towards where she knew Warden-Commander Clarel to be and ask what was happening. Leliana's message found her just as she reentered Orlais, stopped her in her tracks.

"You have the most impeccable timing, my friend. Tell me more about this false Calling."

It was short, probably shorter than Leliana might have wanted, but it was enough. Neria pushed some of her long hair back behind her ear, fingers running against the squared end where an almost lethal slash had taken off the tip of her pointed ear. She had heard much about this Inquisition that her friend was now working with, both from Leliana herself and rumors that came with her travel. They had grown in power and numbers at an alarming rate, and while Neria trusted her friend not to side with any malicious forces, she couldn't help the worry that followed every new bit of information. The Inquisitor, a human girl that was perhaps mid-twenties was leading them, mysterious anchor on her hand. Shortly after the events of the Conclave, when Leliana had written to her detailing the events, she had extended the invitation to become Inquisitor to her, but Neria had been quick to shoot it down.

Had she not done enough for Ferelden already? Had she not lost enough yet?

Neria paused, clenching her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the memories that seemed to be resonating within her. One thought, one question that she could never seem to banish completely pushed its way to the forefront of her mind, demanding that she at least acknowledge it.

Was he alright?

Frustrated now, Neria rolled her message into a tight scroll and practically threw it at the raven that was waiting for her. It made a noise of annoyance, plucking it from her fingers and took off, leaving her alone once more. Traveling had been better when Barkspawn – a name that still made her cringe and one that she had tried desperately to change many times – had still been alive. He had been her faithful companion every step of the way, but he had hardly been a puppy when she found him, and he passed only a year ago. Burying him had been the second hardest thing she had ever done.

To try and soothe her thoughts, the elf stood and began to pace around her small camp. She strongly believed in packing lightly, nothing at all like the large field they needed during the Blight. Even if Morrigan had deemed herself worthy to camp near the others, the space needed to keep her and Wynne apart was more than her current camp. The elf smiled almost wistfully, half wishing she could hear their screaming matches now. But Wynne was gone, lost as she knew she would be not long after the Blight and Morrigan…

Well, last she was aware, Morrigan was raising a child.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Still, after a decade of coming to terms with what had happened. She was no longer angry at the Witch, nor at the father of the aforementioned child, but the memory of that betrayal never seemed to fail in upsetting her.

Neria would pretend until the day she died that it had nothing to do with Alistair's role in it.

She made a noise of annoyance, throwing her hands up in the air as if that would make the bad things go away. It had been ten years. Ten long and grueling years as she searched desperately for a cure. And not a day of that had passed where she did not feel the echoes of her shattered heart, no matter how much she forced herself not to think directly about it. Once a stabbing pain that seemed to permeate throughout her entire being was now nothing more than a hollow ache. Always there, just enough to remind her that it wouldn't go away, but easy enough to ignore in battle. She had come to peace with what happened many years ago, acknowledged her own part and forgave him for his, but it seemed like her heart had held true to a sentiment she once sent Leliana.

"I fear my heart might always belong to him."

Though she knew, oh Maker how she knew, that she had no right to feel that way. Even if there wasn't ten years in between the last time she had even seen him. Had it not been her to walk away? She still remembered the look on his face, the way his brown eyes seemed to snap in front of her as she spoke the words that she had so carefully rehearsed the night before.

"You're to be King soon. Even with Anora expected to be gone, to be found having a relationship with an elf… Not just an elf, but a mage! The rumors alone will kill you before you've even accepted the crown."

Neria stopped pacing, closing her eyes again. Oh, what a fool she had been. She took their love, took everything he had ever said to her and threw it at his feet like it had meant nothing to her. She didn't wait to hear his response, or maybe she couldn't. It had taken her every ounce of strength and resolve not to break down in front of him and those that she pretended not to see listening in. If he had called out to her, she hadn't heard it. She wasn't sure, anymore, whether he had or not. She knew that she had avoided him after that, did whatever she could to keep distance between them. Neria thought it might help him, if she was not so close anymore, but he had been determined to get as close as possible at all times. Morrigan had put herself between after that, allowed him no time to be truly alone with her.

Despite everything, Neria was certain that she would always be grateful for the Witch of the Wilds' intervention during those few days.

She took a deep breath, and reminded herself once again that she was pathetic to still be as not over this as she was. It had been ten years, ten years apart in comparison to what little time they had had together. Why, she would ask herself late at night as the false Calling threatened to drive her insane, does it still hurt so much?

She knew the answer. Of course she did.

Not that she'd admit to it. Not out loud and certainly not in writing, no matter how many times Leliana alluded to the question.

The next message she received from Leliana arrived not even two weeks later. Her raven must be better than she thought, or Leliana was closer than she imagined. A long detail of what was going on, peppered with names that meant little to her but must be important to their cause. An ancient Tevinter Magister named Corypheus was somehow tricking the Wardens into hearing the Calling, sending them to rush to their deaths or turn to blood magic to keep themselves alive.

Anger, hot and white filled her at the news. Blood magic had always been a touchy subject for her, but to hear what this Magister was doing to the other Wardens… To Alistair, no doubt… was more than she had expected. More than she was willing to accept. The end of Leliana's letter explained that Varric, a name she recognized from books people seemed to enjoy, had summoned the Champion of Kirkwall to help hem fight this mess, and he in turn had found a Warden contact that was privy to what was happening. It was the only name missing, and Neria wasn't naïve enough to pretend that Leliana had forgotten it on purpose. The Champion of Kirkwall had found Alistair, had summoned him back into the battle. The thought made her head spin, and she tried not to think about it too heavily.

Regardless, whatever their plan, they were heading to Fort Adamant to storm the stronghold and bring down Clarel and save the Wardens before they all raced down to the Deep Roads to kill themselves.

All very much in line with what they had accomplished together, complete with their own miracle working leader. Leliana wrote of Evelyn with a reverence that Neria hadn't seen in a great while, and it made her happy. The years after the Blight had made her friend hard, and she was glad to see that someone else was helping to ease her back to the kindhearted woman she met in Lothering.

This time, her reply was longer.

"I am glad to hear you and your Inquisition are in such capable hands, Leliana. I have left the far West, and I would like to see you before you and your Inquisitor find a way to blow themselves up again (yes, I know all about what happened at Haven, how dare you not tell me all the details). I leave for Skyhold in the morning, perhaps I will arrive before you return? Best of luck, my dear."

True to her word, Neria was packed and heading towards the Frostback Mountains at dawn the next morning. She remembered where Haven was, if only barely, and she imagined that this Skyhold could not be very far considering they had relocated there almost immediately after Haven was lost. Neria estimated that it will take her about a week and a half to arrive, if she chooses to ride swiftly. Longer if she took her time and gave Alistair time to leave and be back on his way before she arrives.

She has not said his name in a decade. She had done very well with avoiding any chance encounters with him, too. The last thing she needed was to run into him again with the Calling ringing in their ears.

She arrived in Skyhold just after nightfall two weeks later, hugging her cloak around her thin shoulders tightly. The castle itself did not seem to be covered in snow, but the mountains around them were, giving an illusion to the weather that Neria was immediately certain she'd never grow accustomed to. The guards that stopped her at the bridge did not seem to recognize her, and Neria could hardly blame them. The image that managed to circulate throughout Ferelden was one of a blonde elf with short hair pulled into a tight pony-tail wearing mage robes. She had since grown her hair out, wore it now in a single braid that cascaded down her armored back.

It wasn't practical not to wear armor when she was alone in her travels.

"Name and business," the guard said with a yawn. He must have been on duty most of the day, would probably be retiring not long from now. Neria cleared her throat; he might not recognize her appearance, but he'd know her name.

"Please inform Sister Leliana that the Hero has arrived," she said, voice hoarse from lack of use. The guards exchanged a look, debated for a second whether or not to press for her name. The one that had spoken shrugged and told the other to do as she wanted, he'd watch her. They were tired, messy. Neria smiled a little, turning away so that they wouldn't see. If their Commander could see them now, he'd be sorely disappointed.

Just moments later, she looked up to see Leliana and two other figures come rushing out of the entrance. Neria stared for a second, watching the two of them carefully descend the steps before realizing who the second person was. "Morrigan?" she asked, sliding off her steed in shock. The Witch looked as calm as ever, though there was no mistaking the surprise that painted her face. The third person was entirely unfamiliar to her, though if Neria had to guess, she would assume that she is Josephine, the Antivan ambassador. Her eyes trailed back to Leliana, happiness spreading across her face despite her apparent efforts to stop it, and then to Morrigan. A stab of guilt hit her as she realized that she never told Morrigan why she had so abruptly disappeared, had never even made mention of what sat between them now.

Distantly, Neria wondered where her child was. Where Alistair's child was.

Leliana reached her first, slim face broken into a wider smile than Neria thought she was capable of. "My dear Neria!" she cried, throwing her arms around her neck. The elf stumbled back a bit to catch her before returning the hug, warmth replacing guilt. She hadn't realized just how drastically she had missed her friend. "Oh, it is so good to see you!"

"Well, well, the Hero of Ferelden herself," Morrigan said next, keeping her distance. Her voice was every bit as teasing and snide as it had been years ago, but Neria could hear the slight tone of happiness buried beneath it. The guards next to them snapped their heads towards her, eyes going wide. One of them immediately turned and took off, disappearing behind the tall walls. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

As Leliana finally let go, Neria allowed herself to regard them both more closely. Morrigan looked almost exactly the same, though her hair was a bit longer. There was a sort of gentleness to her that hadn't been there previously, something most likely brought upon by raising her child alone. Leliana, on the contrary, looked harder than she remembered, all sharp edges and careful eyes. Both of them had done well for themselves, and Neria was pleased. "Leliana asked that I come," she admitted, following them off the bridge and into the stronghold proper. "She said she had something to discuss with me."

Any ounce of happiness flickered off their faces, and the two of them shared a look that Neria couldn't quite place. Instinctively, her eyes narrowed in response, blue eyes glancing between the two of them. They had never gotten along, and here they were exchanging secret, knowing glances?

Just what had happened?

Neria cleared her throat. "Is there perchance a place we could speak privately?" she asked, gesturing around them. Skyhold was still awake, and people were coming out to find them now, eyes gawking at this new stranger that had both Leliana and Morrigan's attention. It made Neria nervous, crowds always had. She hated being watched, hated feeling like a bird caged and on display to sing only at her master's request. It reminded her too heavily of the Circle, too strongly of the stern gaze of the Templar's all around her…

Before either of them could attempt to suggest a place, the young Antivan woman swooped down upon them, a flurry of yellow and blue skirts. "I simply cannot apologize enough!" she said, batting away Leliana and Morrigan. "No one," she stopped talking to shoot a wicked glare at the other two, neither of whom seemed particularly afraid, "informed me that you would be visiting, otherwise I would have stationed a welcoming party to greet you properly!"

"It's…fine," Neria managed, unable to meet her gaze. Her eyes kept flickering around the crowd that was gathering, ears picking up their soft exclamations of, 'the Hero of Ferelden!', or, 'I can't believe she's really here!'. If either of her friends noticed her discomfort, they did not respond.

"I am Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador to the Inquisition," she introduced, curtsying slightly. "And of course, we are all well aware of who you are." Neria clenched her jaw, forcing herself to look away from the growing crowd around them. "But I am sure you must be exhausted," she continued, glancing down at the papers in her hand. She had the air of a woman that was always prepared, no matter what the circumstances, and despite her growing discomfort, Neria couldn't help but be impressed. "There is a private room that you may use for however long you wish, in the tower to the west of Skyhold," she concluded with a nod. "I apologize that Inquisitor Trevelyan cannot be here to greet you. She is currently on route to Skyhold from Crestwood, you understand. Please, make use of everything Skyhold has to offer."

Neria nodded, swallowing the lump that was growing in her throat. Too many people. "Yes, thank you," she said, looking helplessly at Morrigan. The Witch caught her gaze and loudly offered to escort her back to her quarters.

At once, the crowd began to disperse, leaving Neria wondering just what her old friend's role was within the Inquisition. She inquired as much as they walked, and Morrigan only laughed. "I am not part of the Inquisition, my dear. I am liaison to Empress Celene."

This was too much to take in. So much was different than she imagined, and too many questions bubbled around in her mind to make sense of all the changes. The tower where her room was located, thankfully, was empty, and Neria took the opportunity to grab the Witch's arm, pulling them both to a stop. Morrigan looked back at her with surprise, and she immediately released her. "I…I have to ask," she said, words coming too fast to stop them. "Leliana, she mentioned a… a Warden ally, working with the Inquisition and the Champion to stop whatever was causing the false Calling." Neria tried to ignore the expression that crossed Morrigan's face, forced herself to keep going now that she had started. "It was… the ally, was it him?"

Even now, his name would not pass her lips.

Morrigan looked away, pretended to cough into her hand. "I believe that is a question for Leliana," she said after a long pause. Her eyes were guarded when she looked back, and as soon as Neria tried to press for more information, the Witch simply shook her head. "I am only a liaison, Neria. I know not everything that happens around this place. 'Tis not my place to spread such idle gossip, even if I did."

After a second of searching her face for answers, the elf finally relented. Morrigan would give away nothing yet, and to push her would only anger her. Instead, she took the conversation in a different route, one that was perhaps not any easier. "How is your…child?"

"Kieran, a son." There was a softness to her voice that Neria was certain she was imagining, but she did not interrupt to ask. "He is as wonderful a son as any mother could hope for. And that is all I wish to speak about him. You need to rest, I know how tirelessly you push yourself."

Morrigan was gone before she could respond, her final 'we shall speak again soon,' lingering in the stone walls around them. With an annoyed huff, Neria climbed the stairs up to her tower alone, knowing already that she would not be resting so soon. Leliana would be visiting shortly, after Josephine had thoroughly scolded her about failing to tell anyone that the Hero of Ferelden would be visiting, that she was certain of. There was much to discuss however, and her friend would not waste any time getting around to it.

The room that Josephine had directed her to was small, but cozy. She guessed that it had been a guest room for someone else recently, judging by how clean and already organized it was. The idea that this had perhaps been Alistair's room clutched at her heart, and she allowed herself a few moments of imagining him pacing around, trying to drown out the Calling just as she had done a hundred times. She smiled a little at the thought of both of them, separated by Thedas, still mimicking each other's habits.

It took her about one hour before Leliana finally arrived, hood still up even as she rapped on the doorframe. "I hope I have not woken you," she said quietly, though Neria was pretty certain that she knew she had not been sleeping. The former lay sister cleared her throat and gestured to the chair while waiting patiently for Neria to nod her into it. "I suspect you have questions," she began, folding her fingers in front of her face. "I will answer to the best of my abilities. What would you like to wish first?"

"Where is he?"

The words flew out too quickly, and Neria immediately felt hot blush creep into her cheeks. Damn it. Leliana did not so much as flinch, regarding her friend with the same distant gray eyes she now donned. For a second, it looked almost as if she might ask to whom she was referring to, but appeared to have thought better of it, for her next statement came out careful and measured. "You were right to guess that he was our Warden ally," she began, eyes never leaving hers. "He joined us here for a short while before we marched to Fort Adamant, but there was a…complication."

Neria let herself fall into the chair opposite her, exhaling slowly. "What sort of complication?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper. Her mind, already so plagued with questions and memories and the echoes of the Calling as it slowly faded away, kept replaying the same things she had been reminding herself the last ten years.

You do not deserve to miss him. You do not have the right to ask about him. You left him. You lost your right to care about him the moment you shattered his heart.

Leliana took a deep breath and then carefully unfolded her fingers and slid them across the table, reaching for Neria's. The elf neither fought nor responded to the touch, but Leliana did not release her. "The Inquisitor, three of her companions, Hawke, and Alistair," Neria tried to pretend the flinch that followed his name had not happened, did not send an ache that rushed down to her fingertips, and Leliana paused only briefly before continuing, "were brought into the Fade as a way to save themselves. The Inquisitor, she can open and close rifts in the Veil, and did so in order to stop the six of them from falling to their deaths."

Already, Neria did not like where this was going.

"There, they faced against a Nightmare demon, the cause for the false Calling that you have been hearing," she continued, squeezing her friend's hands. "And while they were mostly successful, they were forced to leave one person behind to distract the demon while the rest made an escape."

All the air left Neria's body as the steady stream of thoughts came to an abrupt end. Leliana would have told her in writing if it was Hawke, or one of the Inquisitor's companions. There were only two options here, and if the bard's expression was anything to judge…

"Alistair remained behind. He is… he is gone, my dear."

The elf stared down at the table, clenching and unclenching her jaw in a desperate attempt to maintain her composure. Tears were already trickling down her cheeks, spilling down onto Leliana's hands as they remained over her own. He was gone. Truly, sincerely gone. All the pain that she had wrought, all the anger and heartbreak and years of scorn and coming to terms with everything, Neria had held onto one simple sentiment. At least he was alive. He could breathe, he could find love elsewhere, could live the life that he had always dreamed about.

And all of that had been taken away from him.

Neria opened her mouth to ask something, anything, but all that came out was a low groan, and Leliana was at her side in an instant. She said nothing, merely held her friend as she finally let the truth wash over her.

Alistair was not coming back this time.

The ache that had been so carefully buried exploded within her, and Neria felt as if the Taint itself was once more spreading throughout her blood, poisoning her all over again.

She did not know, nor care, how long the two of them stayed like that, mourning the loss of a man she had no business mourning, but Neria would forever be grateful that Leliana had been there. No one else could possibly hope to understand what she was feeling, what terrible thoughts were now screaming into her ears, telling her over and over again that it was her fault, she had ruined everything with a few rehearsed lines and one bad decision. She let herself cry, sob really, until there were no more tears to shed and all that came out were sharp and frantic breaths in some poor attempt to contain herself. When finally all the sorrow she had to give was gone, Neria allowed herself to rise only to numbly collapse onto the bed, covering her raw eyes with throbbing hands.

+Leliana would accept no apology. "Neria, my dear, you rest here a while," she instructed, reaching down to help pull her muddy boots off. Neria forced herself to sit up, refused to allow her friend to undress her when she was more than capable of doing it herself. The armor fell away, clanging with every piece that hit the cold ground in ways that she would normally never have allowed, until she was dressed in nothing but a loose tunic and pants. She heard her friend tsk at the lack of fashion choice, but she thankfully did not comment. "Take as long as you need. I will have Cullen post a guard outside your door to ensure no one disturbs you. Whenever you wish, send him for me and I will be here as quickly as I can."

Too exhausted to do anything else, Neria only nodded, sitting back down on the bed again. Leliana watched her for a moment longer before bidding her goodbye, softly closing the door in place behind her.

Once alone, the elf curled up on her side, clutching her knees against her chest tightly. A few more tears trickled down her face, running into her nose and pooling between her cheek and the bed. Neria did nothing to stop them.

All that time spent ensuring that what she felt, what she could not stop herself from feeling all these years, was not real, and now he was gone. She had wasted the decade being angry and hurt and pretending, and now she would never get to hear his laugh again, see the way his eyes crinkled up a little whenever he smiled. She had made peace with this years ago, accepted her loses and prepared for a future without him in it, but this was different. Then, he had been alive. Then, he was there to brighten someone else's days or gush about his favorite type of cheese to whoever'd listen.

And now he was gone, and Neria would never get to say that she was sorry. She'd never be able to tell him how deeply she regretted leaving him, or how she understood why he retaliated by sleeping with Morrigan just days later. No matter what she had told herself, or what she had insisted to Leliana, Neria had held onto the hope that he might find her again one day, or they might once stumble into each other's lives. She could apologize. They could end on something more than what had last been said. And now that hope was gone, just like everything else.

He was lost in the Fade forever and she could not even tell him that she loved him, still, after all this time.

Neria allowed herself to mourn for three days before finally gathering the courage to pick herself up. Leliana had sent her meals, none of which she ate, and fresh bath water was sent the end of each day. On the morning of the fourth day, she finally brushed the tangles out of her hair and washed the dirt of the road off, changing into a fresh set of clothing that Leliana had prepared for her. True to her word, a guard had been posted outside of the tower where her room was, and he looked genuinely surprised to see her when she ventured outside.

"My Lady!" he said, straightening up. Neria clenched her jaw. "What might I do for you?"

"Nothing," she said, voice rough from her solitude. "You are dismissed." The guard stared at her for a second before he finally nodded, bowing deeply once. She waited until he had taken off, rushing down the stairs to most likely inform either the spymaster or the commander – or most likely the entire keep – that the Hero of Ferelden had left her room.

From where she was located, Neria could see everything. The large castle where she anticipated the Inquisitor ruled from, the gardens tucked away in the courtyard. They even had a proper stable, where she assumed someone had taken her horse. Guilt stabbed her, and she quietly traced the path she would need to take to check on him.

While she walked, everyone seemed to stare at her. They whispered behind their hands, reminding whoever was closest to them of her service to Ferelden. Neria ignored them the best she could, and none of them attempted to speak to her. Master Dennet was the first, greeting her loudly outside the stable. "Good to see you're still alive!" he laughed, clapping her on the back. Neria nodded at him, forced a small smile to her face. "How's my horse treating you?"

"He's been an excellent companion," Neria told him honestly. She had tried to walk, like she had during the Blight, but it lost her too many leads. Curiously, her eyes scanned the stables, noticing all the different breeds they had milling around. "That's a lot of good horses crammed on top of a mountain."

Master Dennet sighed, looking at them longingly. "That it is," he said. "It was easier at Haven, there were fields they could roam."

They spoke for a moment longer before he directed her to where her own horse was tacked. He had been well taken care of, right next to the empty stall where the Inquisitor's own was. "You must be Warden-Commander Neria," a deep voice boomed from her right. Neria turned almost lazily, surprised to see a man dressed in Warden gear. Her eyes narrowed a bit. He looked every bit the part, but he was missing the Taint. "An honor to meet you, Commander. My name is Gordon Blackwall."

No it is not. Neria cleared her throat, nodded to Dennet before following the fake Warden into the stable. She opened her mouth to call him out, to ask who he really was, but something in his eyes stopped her. "You're the one that's been sending all the Warden recruits to Vigil's Keep?" she said instead, tilting her chin up. He regarded her as carefully as she was watching him before finally nodding. "Good. My mentor, Duncan, he spoke highly of you."

"Funny. The other Warden said the same thing."

He said it with a chuckle, but Neria looked away, letting some loose strands fall into her face. Blackwall seemed to sense her distress, placed a hand on her shoulder. "He was a good man," he said softly. "We were all sorry."

Neria forced herself to nod. Damn it! With a deep breath, she finally looked back up, eyes steeled. "He was," she said, turning to leave. For a second, she hesitated. Had Blackwall been one of those sucked into the Fade as well? Part of her wanted to ask, needed to, but she stopped herself. It hurt too much already, and she wasn't quite sure she could handle anything more. "The Wardens won't be the same without him."

He did not say anything as she left, hands clenched into fists and trembling just slightly. Neria did not say anything to Dennet as she passed by, eyes trained firmly on the ground before her feet. She didn't pay attention to where she ended up, not until the cold breeze whipped her braid in front of her face. The elf looked up, surprised to find herself standing atop Skyhold's great wall, overlooking the main entrance. Guards were patrolling, watching her with a mix of reverence and admiration that made her sick. Scowling, she turned to march on back to her room – wherever that was – before realizing that she had turned almost directly into a door.

Not wanting to give these people anything further to discuss, Neria quickly reached out and prayed silently to the Maker or Andraste or whoever listened to silly things like this that the door was not locked. It was not, though the force with which she had been turning with sent her nearly crashing into the room, a fact that had her cheeks burning as she steadied herself.

"Miss…Surana?"

Her head snapped up as the door swung shut behind her, not expecting to find someone else in the room with her. Which was a foolish thing to think considering the room was fully furnished and clearly someone's office. Behind the large desk stood a tall man with some sort of decorative pelt encompassing his shoulders. Neria blinked for a second as her mind registered who she was seeing. "Cullen?"

Leliana had told her that Cullen had become the Commander, so this was no shock. But it had been longer than ten years since she had last seen him, and her memories of him were quite far off from the truth now. He looked older, bags under his eyes and otherwise more exhausted than she remembered the young Templar to be. But then, so must I. Cullen cleared his throat and placed whatever report he was holding on the desk. "Not that I am particularly unhappy to see you," he said, Ferelden accent as strong as ever, "but might I ask why you've come crashing into my office?"

"It was," Neria started, cheeks burning again. "An accident."

"An accident." Cullen rose an eyebrow at her, but there was a teasing tone to his voice. "Should I perhaps be insulted that your visit is merely an accident?"

Neria laughed once. "Not at all," she said. The Commander only smirked at her before any sort of ease left the room. He seemed to remember at the same time that she did the last time they encountered one another, and both mage and Templar shifted uncomfortably. Neria instinctively reached up to fiddle with her amulet again, fingers running over the cool glass. "You look well," she finally offered. Better than the last time, at any rate. It looked like the man had hardly slept in weeks, perhaps hardly slept at all anymore. There was none of his youthful innocence, none of the nervous boy that had gone running down the hall away from her.

"I'm afraid I pale in comparison to you," he returned softly. Blush appeared in his cheeks and he quickly backtracked. "That was – I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

"Don't apologize for being kind," Neria said gently. "It's good to see a familiar face around her. I'm sorry I didn't do so sooner."

Cullen cleared his throat. He glanced down at his desk for a second before taking a deep breath and meeting her gaze once again. "I never got the opportunity before you disappeared," he started. Neria tensed, but he continued. "But I am truly grateful for what you did in the Circle. Not just for me, but for the First Enchanter and the rest of the mages. I – I was not in the right head when last we spoke, and I said many things that I wish I could take back."

"Cullen," Neria interrupted softly, braving a step forward. They had been friends, once. As close to friends as a mage and a Templar could be, at any rate. "You don't need to apologize. I can't imagine what the demon did to you, made you see. None of us that saw you there ever held that against you."

The Commander looked at her and for the first time since arriving at Skyhold, Neria was glad that she came. He looked as if the weight of the entire world had been lifted off his shoulders, and she wondered faintly if he had been carrying that guilt with him all these years. "Thank you," he told her earnestly, voice dripping with emotion. Neria offered him a smile for a second before looking back down at her feet. "I'm sorry about Alistair."

His words had her freeze on spot, eyes widening fractionally. For a second, everything seemed to stop, save for the frantic thud of her heartbeat. Tears threatened to spill, but the Warden took a deep breath, forcing them away. "As am I," she finally managed, voice almost too low to hear. She heard Cullen moving, and when she looked up again, he was in front of her, amber eyes more concerned than she deserved. Neria recalled with a shock that Alistair had been there when they stormed the Circle, had told her later that he remembered Cullen from his time becoming a Templar, though they hadn't been friends. "I – sorry."

"Don't be," Cullen said immediately, shaking his head. He stood there awkwardly before her, not touching her, but there was something oddly comforting about his presence regardless. After a few seconds, he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "Miss Surana –"

"Please, call me Neria."

"Neria, then. If you don't mind me asking, what…happened between the two of you?" he asked. "I remember that, when you returned to the Circle, you had seemed so close. He was so protective of you, I had just assumed…" The Commander paused again, watching her carefully. "But I had heard later that you had both separated after the Blight ended."

Neria took a deep breath, not meeting his gaze. How could she hope to explain this without giving away all their secrets? He was meant to be king, I was an idiot, and then he impregnated one of my closest friends. Somehow, she doubted that he would understand that. "We just…didn't work out quite as much as we had hoped," she finally replied, choosing her words carefully. She did not wish to lie, but there was no way to be completely honest. "It was foolish to think we had found love during such a dark time."

Her words elicited a laugh out of him, and Neria watched as more blush crept into his cheeks. "Yes, I suppose that is rather foolish," he muttered. She tilted her head to the side a little, eyebrow raised. He glanced over at her and coughed once, muttering something about returning to work and that was when she realized it.

"You've found love, haven't you?"

Cullen sputtered, and Neria couldn't help but laugh a little. He rambled for a bit, halfway denying it but then backtracking to correct himself. When he finally finished, he rubbed his eyes, groaning something about, "Was it that obvious?"

"Not until then," she admitted with another laugh. "Leliana had hinted at something as well."

"Of course she had."

Neria laughed again, feeling something akin to warmth spread within her. "I'm happy for you," she told him. "Truly. You deserve all the best, Cullen."

He turned back to her to say something, perhaps thank her, but then another door to the office slowly opened. A young girl poked her head in, long red hair falling down in waves around her, brown eyes bright and happy. "Cullen, I –" the girl began, stopping short as her eyes fall on Neria. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a guest." Guilt crept into the elf, and she quickly introduced herself. The girl gasped and quickly entered the room fully, bowing to the once Hero. "I had no idea! I'm so sorry, I would have come to greet you sooner, but I've only just returned."

"You're quite alright," Neria said quickly, shaking her head. For a second, her eyes trailed between the Commander and who she assumes must be the Inquisitor, noticing the way his eyes have softened and how his body angled towards her without realizing it.

Ah.

"Cullen and I were friends during my time at the Circle," she quickly explained, offering a smile. "I stopped by to say hello, but I really should get going. I'm sure Leliana or Morrigan have been wondering where I've run off to." She didn't give them a chance to respond, just quickly left from the door that she had accidentally come from, hoping that she hadn't somehow upset the Inquisitor by being alone with her love. She laughed to herself a little before sorrow settled back into her chest. They reminded her so much of how she and Alistair had been, in the beginning. All quick glances and red cheeks, soft touches without a care for what others might think. Neria exhaled shakily, focusing on the cool air around her for a second before she began to move.

It was afternoon, and Skyhold was out in full, now. People still stared as she walked by, still whispered into her hands, but the Hero didn't stop to ask questions or hear what they might be saying. "Ah, there you are!" a familiar voice called, grabbing her attention. Neria turned, sighed a little in relief. Leliana moved towards her, either oblivious or uncaring of the looks that followed her. A question played on her lips, and Neria slowly nodded.

She was not alright, not now. But maybe she would be one day.

"Good! I see you have already wandered around, but would you perhaps like a proper tour?" her friend offered, gesturing around them. "Skyhold can be quite daunting, no?"

Neria nodded gratefully, and Leliana began immediately. They walked together while the spymaster rattled off important points of interest and other random details that Neria could not pay attention to, try as hard as she might. Her mind was elsewhere, to the couple back in the office. We had been foolish to think we found love in such a dark time.

As they walked through the many halls of Skyhold, Neria allowed herself to listen to the faint Calling, still playing at the back of her mind. It was distant, now, almost completely gone, thanks to Alistair. She couldn't help but feel proud that he had been the one to put an end to it, but the hurt was still there. At bay for now, perhaps, but not quite fully gone. Perhaps it would never truly be gone.

If she had to choose, Neria thought wistfully, nodding along to whatever bit of information that Leliana was sharing, she would have taken the Calling.