Reunited

Chapter Four: Lovers Together Once More

"Alistair?"

The name fell from her tongue and Neria had to take a second before she understood just exactly what it was she was seeing. It felt like the world had stopped around them, and she was vaguely aware that people were watching her, looking between the two of them with wide eyes.

He was pale, that was the first thing her mind registered. Leliana – or Evelyn, she wasn't quite sure which anymore – had told her that he had been hiding out in the caves of Crestwood for some time before joining them at Skyhold, so this wasn't necessarily startling. His hair was brighter than she remembered, pushed back away from his face but still somehow every bit the mess she had known. He looked weak, ready to collapse at the slightest breeze and Neria felt an overwhelming urge to go to him if only to ensure he did not topple.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she was moving towards him, never breaking eye contact as he met her halfway. He was still a head and shoulders taller than her, and when she looked up at him, it felt so familiar that Neria had to remind herself that years still sat between them, not just inches.

Neither of them said anything. No one said anything. The two of them stood there, unsure of what to say, unsure of what they were supposed to do. For the first time, Neria broke eye contact, looking down at her hands. They were trembling, and she clenched them in a poor attempt at making them still. He seemed to lean closer, and she felt the heat that radiated off of him brush against her arms.

"They said you were gone."

Neria felt tears run down her cheeks, and she looked back up, heart trembling in her chest. His own eyes were glassy as well, but rather than wipe them away, he hesitantly reached up, cupped her cheeks in his hands. Her eyes fluttered close and she instinctively leaned against his palms, breathe coming out shakily. "I thought I had lost you again," she whispered, voice stopping short as more tears overcame her.

She felt as if something was breaking her apart, ripping open her seams and bursting out from within her. Years of building walls and burying the things that mattered came rushing forth, demanded to be felt this time.

And then he leaned down and kissed her.

He was every bit as gentle as he was familiar, his lips moving tentatively against her own. Neria's response was immediate and genuine, reaching up on her toes so that she might get closer to him. Her arms wrapped around his chest and pulled herself against him. There was a pounding in her chest and she realized with a jolt that it was not her own heart she was feeling anymore, but his, each beat a reminder that he was here, that he was alive.

When they finally pulled away, Alistair leaned his forehead against hers, brushed his thumbs against her cheeks to dry the tears that still spilled out. His lips ever so lightly touched hers for a second, and she could feel the smile that played there. "I'm alive," he breathed, words fanning across her face. Something about the way he said it, the almost reverent way he comforted her made her think that he had not quite been able to accept it until that moment. As if not even his wildest dreams could have allowed such a reunion. "I'm here now, Neria," he said, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. Neria nodded, a laugh bubbling to the surface.

From somewhere in the bar, she heard the Iron Bull whistle loudly. "'Bout time!" he called. Blush was already creeping into her cheeks, and before they knew it, more cheers had followed. Alistair pulled back a little and blinked before he grinned. He laughed and pulled her closer into a hug, one Neria was all too willing to comply with.

Leliana was there next, arms thrown around them both as she cried her praises to the Maker and Andraste. Neria couldn't help the laughter that followed, wondered if anyone in the bar had ever seen their Spymaster with so much emotion. For a second, the three of them stood together, laughing and crying and smiling at a reunion too many years in the making. She had seen Morrigan standing behind Alistair earlier, but when the elf looked back up, the Witch was nowhere to be seen.

They were ushered up to the front, drinks pushed into their hands. Alistair didn't reject any of them, agreeing to any and all challenges that came his way. His cheeks were flushed, and though there was happiness etched into his eyes, there was also exhaustion. Neria remained by his side, always in contact with him as Skyhold celebrated for the first time in weeks. Evelyn came forward not long after the first round of drinks, shyly apologized to Alistair for giving the order. He waved it away, unwilling to hold her accountable for making the tough calls.

"I was lucky in that regard," he explained, arms tightening against Neria's waist. "If all the tough calls had been left to me, we'd probably still be running around fighting the Blight."

His words warmed Neria in a way she hadn't expected. Was this his way of telling her that he understood now? She found his hand and squeezed gently. "I'm sure that isn't true," she told him. "Assuming you and Morrigan hadn't killed each other within an hour of traveling together, I'm sure she would have kept you on track."

Evelyn laughed. "Now wouldn't that have been a sight!" she said. Alistair laughed as well, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. "I am truly happy for you both," the Inquisitor told them, taking their entwined hands in her own. "Truly. Perhaps after Corypheus has been defeated, we can sit down and become better friends."

As she disappeared back into the crowd – most likely to find Cullen – Neria bit her lip. Now was not the time for unhappy thoughts, and she quickly pushed them all to the back of her mind. Not now, not now.

As the night drew on, Neria could feel Alistair's exhaustion starting to catch up to him. He seemed to sag against her, weight pressing down on her in a way that wasn't entirely uncomfortable. His eyes would droop close when no one was speaking to him, and more than once, the elf was certain he had fallen asleep sitting up. Carefully, she moved against him, jolting him awake. "I am going to take Alistair back to my room," she explained to a watching Leliana. The bard smirked and Neria felt her cheeks flood with color. "Not like that! He needs to rest."

Leliana laughed, but she nodded. "We shall see you tomorrow? Or should I inform Cullen that another guard will be necessary?" Neria rolled her eyes and didn't answer. Carefully, she slipped one of his arms across her shoulders, awkwardly supporting his weight against her body.

When they started walking, he became more responsive, able to mostly support himself while they left the bar – more cheers and whistles sending them off. "Where are we going?" Alistair mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"I'm taking you to my room so you can rest."

"I don't want to rest," he told her, shaking his head. Neria stifled a laugh; he looked like a child being dragged to bed too early. "I think we should… talk. The two of us."

Neria ignored the way her heart sped up at the idea. "I think we should as well, but –"

"No. No buts. Hasn't it been long enough?"

Neria didn't answer. Yes, she wanted to tell him. They had waited much too long, but as much as she would have liked nothing more than to spend the night talking with him and relearning all the things she had fallen in love with, he needed to rest. "We can talk first thing in the morning," she finally told him as they reached the tower. He made a noise of disagreement, but Neria shook her head. "You're falling asleep, Alistair."

He sighed a little and rested his head against hers. "I missed hearing you say my name," he told her. Neria paused, face flushed once more and heart fluttering. "Maker, I missed you so much." Alistair shifted his stance, gently wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace that she did not fight. He swayed for a second before leaning back, his back pressed against the door. The two of them remained like that for some time, even as the breeze chilled and Neria could feel her own body start to shake from the cold.

They stood there, two Wardens against the world once more.

Alistair was the first to pull away this time, body reluctantly shifting against hers. "You're freezing," he told her, hands finding the exposed parts of her arms. "I shouldn't have… I'm sorry. Come on, let's get you inside." He tried to usher her back inside, but his body was still too weak, and he would have toppled over if Neria hadn't reached out to steady him. Once he was no longer in danger of crashing to the ground, he laughed. "Maybe you are right about me needing rest," he told her, and didn't fight when she helped him to the bed.

He sighed as his body sunk into the mattress, and Neria wondered how long it had been since the man had let himself relax. She watched as he clumsily undid the straps of his armor and then carefully set it on the ground next to him. Her own armor set was on the opposite end, just as it had been before. Warmth filled her chest, and she quietly looked away to give him some more privacy. "Neria." She turned back, one hand at the bottom of her braid to pull the string loose. He was sitting up, armor neatly placed next to the bed and dressed now in nothing but a loose tunic and pants. He looked as if he would fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow, but something was keeping him up, forcing him to remain upright. "Come to bed."

The thoughts made her heart jump right up into her throat, and Neria can't stop the ensuing blush. His own cheeks are painted as well, though not as vibrantly, and he holds fast to his words. "You… want me to?" she finally manages. "I mean, I can always sleep elsewhere, and Maker knows you need to –"

"Neria," he said, stopping her short. With great effort, he slid off the bed and back onto his feet, moving towards her. "I have gone ten long years without you beside me," he sighed, laying his forehead against her own. "Please believe me when I say there is nothing I'd like more than to fall asleep knowing you'll be right here when I wake up."

His words melted away whatever resistance she could have given, and she quickly pulled off the casual wear that the Inquisition had gifted her in favor of a comfortable cotton shirt. His eyes closed while she changed, and while the act comforted her, it also pricked just a little. Another reminder of the years between them.

When at least she crawled into bed, Alistair was quick to wrap himself around her. One arm draped loosely around her waist, drawing patterns into the muscles of her back. The other was kept on her cheek, holding her close. Her own hands found comfort in his chest, fingers tracing the familiar dips through the fabric. "You're beautiful," Alistair whispered after a while, eyes just barely remaining open. He smiled at Neria's blush and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. For a second, Neria thought he might fall asleep after, but then his eyes opened and turned serious, the lines that decorated his cheeks seemed to deepen. "You won't… you'll still be here in the morning, won't you?"

The uncertainty in his voice nearly shattered her own, and she could only nod in response. When finally she could find her voice again, she said, "I'm not going anywhere, Alistair."

He mumbled some nonsense in return and moved closer, pulling her small frame against his and tucking his chin over her head. In seconds, he was asleep, leaving Neria with nothing but the weight of his arms against her and the rise and fall of his chest against her own. Neria had never been a restful sleeper; she would toss and turn all night long in between fits of sleeping, but there was something comforting about Alistair's body pressed against hers, and sleep finds her after only a few minutes.

When Neria awoke the following morning, the first thing she was aware of was the weight of something pressed against her hip. She wiggled slightly, but it does little to help, and it was with a soft groan that she opened her eyes to see.

Alistair.

He was still pressed against her, arms holding her firmly in place. Neria froze, not wishing to disrupt him when he so desperately needed sleep. After a second of laying still, she could feel him start to move, recognized the noises of his body beginning to wake. "Neria?" he breathed, voice brushing against the top of her head. His arms tighten around her, hands gripping at the fabric of her shirt.

"I'm here, Alistair," she whispered, hands moving against his chest. He flinched slightly, and she stopped, hands moving away from him. He looked down at her, hair a mess and brown eyes wide with something she can't quite place.

How many mornings did he wake, arms reaching for her only to find nothing but space in his grip?

"You stayed." Alistair shifted against her once more, carefully moving his arms so that she is no longer as confined. Neria bit down on her lip, hating that he had been so uncertain and knowing that it was her own fault. Alistair cleared his throat, one hand gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers traced the scarred tissue, sending shivers down her back. "Andraste's ass, I forgot how much better it was to wake up with someone next to you."

Blush crept into Neria's cheeks. He's right, of course, waking up wrapped against another person – especially one that you loved – was infinitely better than any other way you could wake. "As did I," she admitted with another chuckle. He offered her a sleepy smile and then yawned, body tensing into a stretch that lasts a few seconds.

Now that they were no longer surrounded by friends and strangers alike, and Alistair no longer looked ready to collapse at any second, Neria allowed herself the time to properly study him. He had lost much of the youthful innocence that she remembered, eyes more serious and gaunt now. His hair had lightened in color, and the impressive tan he had always sported had faded into a pale shadow of what had been. This is not the man who joked about the Blight bringing people together. This is the man that laughed before he killed Loghain, the one that had agreed to sleep with Morrigan so that they both might live.

"Neria? What's wrong?"

It wasn't until he asked that the elf realized that her grief was showing once more. Alistair moved against her, cupping her cheeks in his hands and gently forcing her to look up at him. Concern had clouded his eyes, all remnants of sleep gone now. "We should talk," Neria finally managed, biting down on her lip.

Alistair looked almost ready to argue, but slowly nodded. "That would perhaps be best," he agreed, voice as careful as her own had been.

Neither of them continued. There was so much that she wanted to say, so many things she felt that she needed to tell him, but now none of it came. She guessed that it was the same for him. "I guess I'll start, then," he said, laughing nervously. "That… last thing I said to you, after the archdemon was dead, Neria, I – I didn't mean it. It was a stupid thing to say, truly, and I've regretted it every second since." His voice shook, just slightly, and Neria had to look away. His words still rung in her ears, had been the basis for many of her nightmares and dark thoughts throughout the years. For so long, so much of her had agreed with him, had thought over and over again that he should have let her die. "And don't tell me its fine, either. Don't tell me it's fine because you're afraid you'll offend me or something. Maker knows I've earned all the offense you can send my way," he said. "It was an awful thing to say, and I wish I hadn't. But I can't take it back, I know that now."

"It was," Neria agreed, unable to meet his eyes. "But no more worse than everything else I've said to myself over the years."

She could feel the concern from his gaze, but carefully avoided it. "I was so young when we started the journey, Alistair. I mean, I hadn't been outside the Circle since I was a little girl! And then, without any warning, we were saving people and being asked to do these impossible things and everyone was looking to me to make all these equally impossible choices and I just… it was just so much," she said.

"Too much for any one person to shoulder."

Alistair pressed his forehead against hers, wrapped his arms a little tighter. She could feel the trembling begin to slow, calmed by his touch. "I wish I had been able to see it, then, the stress we all put on you," he said softly. "That wasn't fair of us."

Neria didn't say anything in response, content to continue laying there with him. There was more, more that both of them needed to get off their chests, but words were hard after so long. "I'm sorry that I left you." The words came out barely a whisper, and she felt Alistair tense against her. "I thought I was doing what was best for you, making you King and giving you the life that you deserved, even though you kept telling me that it wasn't what you wanted and I – I should have listened more."

"Neria," he said, moving his head up so that he could kiss the top of her head. "It's alright. I understand, now, what you were trying to do." When he looked back down at her, his eyes were glassy. "I didn't then, and I should have. There's so much I should have just known that I had been too thick headed to realize."

His voice broke before the words were out, and Neria quickly reached up, wiped away the few tears that spilled out before they could run further than his cheek. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, tried to will the tears away before they overtook him. It was something that she knew all too well, and to see him suffer like this was a torture on its own. "We both made plenty of mistakes," she whispered, rubbing his thumb in a circle against his cheekbone. "We were young and stupid and chasing down a Blight that was just as bent at keeping us apart as Loghain had been." He smiled a little at that, and Neria mirrored it. "But... we're together now. It seems impossible to say, but we found our way back."

"We sort of stumbled our way back into each other's lives," Alistair said, cheeks pink. Neria grinned; the very same thing he had once said to her at camp. "I think I'd rather keep it like that, this time. No more of this not seeing each other for a decade, right?" Neria felt her heart stutter in her chest, swallowing past the lump in her throat. At her sudden hesitation, he carefully leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Unlike the kiss they had shared at the Herald's Rest just hours ago, this was simple and chaste, and all too soon, Alistair pulled away. "I love you, Neria. I always have, even when I was too angry to accept it."

"I love you, too."

The words rushed out of her just like they had the first time, breathless and intimate. Alistair grinned in response, a laugh bubbling up from him that Neria joined. "Oh, good. Now I really know I'm not just making this all up. There's no chance my imagination could make me this happy," he laughed. "This is it, then. I'm with you, from here on out. Wherever you go, I go."

Part of her wanted to argue, tell him no. It would be too dangerous, one of them needed to help the Wardens recover. But she remained silent. Ten years had been long enough, she decided.

Two Wardens, against the world. Just the way it should have always been.

The Inquisition's advisors stood utterly dumbstruck around the War Table, looking between the two Wardens as if they had somehow fused together. They stood and stared almost defiantly in response, ten years traveling mostly alone more than enough time to ensure their will was steel. Josephine was the one to recover first, clearing her throat and placing her board onto the table. "Are you two sure about this?" she asked, lips pursed. "We don't know how much Corypehus knows about either of you. You could be placing yourself in danger just by walking out the door!"

Neria laughed. "If I recall, the last thing we placed ourselves right in front of had been the archdemon," she reminded them. "And I'm sure you all remember who walked away from that."

"Well, yes, but it's only been a few days since Alisatir's miraculous return, and we could offer you both protection you would not find elsewhere."

"Sorry, but our minds are set," Alistair interrupted. Their hands were together, fingers laced. "Before Leliana summoned Neria here, she was off in the west, following a lead for a cure to the Calling that all Grey Wardens eventually face – the real one."

"I would have left sooner, but you stopped me," Neria pointed out. "For all I know, the lead could have gone cold by now."

Alistair nodded. "Which is why we plan on leaving three days from now at first light."

Their response is more stunned silence as they tried to process everything. This time, Morrigan spoke first. "Why so soon? Surely you could wait until we have closed in on Corypheus?"

"We could," Neria admitted, eyes turning to the Witch. She was surprised to find them warm, pleading almost. "But the Inquisition is already in good hands. There's not much either of us could do for you that you are not already more than capable of doing for yourselves." She paused, turned to offer Evelyn a warm smile. "Besides, I think we can both agree that we've had our time in the center of Ferelden's troubles. Alistair and I have done our services. Now it's your turn."

The debate lasted for roughly another hour before the Inquisition finally accepted the decision, though not before Leliana forced them both to promise to keep in touch after they leave.

The two of them left the room together, hands still interlocked. Four days had passed since Alistair came stumbling into Skyhold, and his recovery had been relatively swift. Much of the first two days were spent locked away, catching up on the years between them and relearning each other amid all that space. When they did finally leave their room, they were not seen apart, not even once. They visited Kieran, introduced Alistair properly to the son that didn't know he existed and both accepted a brisk apology from Morrigan for her part in their split. They were often found wandering the battlements, hands clasped together and talking quietly, their smiles never leaving their faces.

"Should we have told them?" Alistair asked softly as they navigated through the mess of nobles that crowded the front hall.

"I think they already know," Neria told him. "Leliana and Morrigan, at any rate." She paused slightly, bringing them both to a stop. "It'll be for the best, I think. They'll understand in time. And, if they don't," she grinned, "Leliana will have no problem letting us know in her next letter."

"Evelyn, Josephine, Cullen, Leliana, Morrigan, and everyone else,

We're sorry that we lied. You'll understand, of course, the importance in finding the cure to our eventual Calling. Neither of us are exactly well versed in knowledge of ancient darkspawn, either, so we would be nothing more than dead weight to your cause. Should we find anything of interest, we will be certain to see it arrives to you without delay.

It has been an honor to meet with you all, and while it does pain us to leave without a proper goodbye, we hope that you will not hold it too strongly against us. I – Neria – have left a letter each for Leliana, Morrigan, and Evelyn, and hope that will suffice in lieu of a formal parting.

Thank you for what you have done, not just for Thedas as a whole, but for Alistair and myself.

With all respect and love,

Warden-Commander Neria Surana and Warden Alistair"

Leliana placed the note back down on the table, shaking her head. "We should have seen this coming," she said after a few seconds, more directed to Morrigan than anything. "Honestly now."

The Witch shrugged a little. "Neria has always been quite talented at disappearing, you'll recall. 'Tis Alistair's deception that is more surprising," she said. "Though I suppose being reunited with the woman you love will change you accordingly."

The other advisors shuffled on their feet, each of them frowning. "Don't worry," Evelyn said after a few minutes, smile lighting up her expression. "We were fortunate to have them stay with us for as long they both did. And now they have even more of a reason to go looking for that cure." Leliana nodded, smile on her lips. "We'll see them again, I'm sure. And they'll still be holding hands and making puppy dog eyes when they think no one's looking."

Cullen chuckled; Morrigan rolled her eyes. "I certainly did not miss seeing that," she muttered, examining her long nails. "Very well, then. Shall we return to the task at hand?"

While the others began to once more discuss their next step in defeating Corypheus, Leliana tuned them out. Her eyes found the window, and for just a few seconds, she let herself stare out at Skyhold before them. Somewhere down the path, probably miles away from them by now, Neria and Alistair were traveling together once more. She wished, for just a second, that she might have joined them. But, as Morrigan had reminded her not long after Alistair had reappeared, they needed this time alone. She smiled a little, closing her eyes and humming a short praise to Andraste for bringing them together again.

Something about their reunion had done wonders for the people of Skyhold. The soldiers fought with a renewed strength, their agents seemed happier, and even Morrigan no longer looked as surly as she remembered. It seemed that, in the wake of all the destruction and horror that Corypheus had wrought upon them all, seeing lovers reunited was just what they needed to get back on their feet.

Leliana smirked, shifting her leg slightly so that she could feel Neria's letter pressed against her hip. Oh yes, she would be sure to give them hell in her next letter.

After she let them be alone for a few weeks longer, of course.

xx

Author's Note: yay, a happy ending! I hope you enjoyed this, and thank you for reading! if you like to scream more about Dragon Age, feel free to look me on Tumblr under 'thewardencomander'!