This is the added chapter, giving at least some closure to the characters. I hope you've enjoyed this tale.

Chapter Nine

The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with white puffy clouds, as the ship finished its journey across the Waking Sea. On the deck, Lya paced back and forth, practically bouncing on her toes from excitement. She kept walking forward, trying to get a glimpse of Highever, and then back to Alistair, who stood at the railing, watching her with uncontained amusement.

They were going home.

The thought sang in her head, tumbling over and over and filling her with anticipation and joy. They, she and Alistair, were going home.

It had been nearly two months since they had been brought back together. She wouldn't pretend—it had been difficult. They were still figuring out how to be together again, how to fit back into each other's lives. She had never realized how much fighting the Blight had driven their relationship. Back then, they hadn't been able to leave, both caught up by duty. It had driven them closer, providing ties to bind them to one another.

They didn't have that now. Inadvertent comments had set them off in the beginning and they each felt the temptation to run, to flee, and to take what seemed to be the easier path. There were still issues of anger and trust between them, which made it harder. They fought now, the worst argument culminating in Lya throwing Alistair out of their room and Alistair staying away for two days.

But it was getting better. And in a strange way, having to work at their relationship made it deeper. They kept nothing from each other—no matter how awful they were feeling or how much it upset them. That kind of brutal honesty probably wouldn't always be necessary, but for now, it worked.

And she felt so much better. She had gained some weight back and simply the way it caused her armor to fit better had been a cause for celebration. She was stronger, too. Using blunted weapons to spar with Alistair served the dual purpose of working out tension between them and improving their skills and bodies. Nightmares of what had happened no longer haunted her sleep.

She still occasionally woke up at night, though, gripped by a sudden fear that this wasn't real and that she was still alone. But when this happened now, she woke Alistair, telling him what she was afraid of and letting him soothe her with words and touch. If only she had done this before….

With a shake of her head, Lya dismissed the thought. No, there was no room for what if's and could have been's. That was done and over with and they had right now to focus on.

They were going home.

Together.

The ship made the final adjustments to bring them to the docks and Lya settled against Alistair, her fingers intertwined with his. Their armor and weapons were packed into a trunk for the voyage, and it was still just a bit odd to travel together dressed in regular clothes like normal people. The novelty of being able to reach out and touch him whenever she wanted hadn't yet worn off.

Alistair looked at her and squeezed her hand in response. He had grown more nervous the closer they had gotten to Ferelden.

"It'll be fine."

"Really? Because I seem to recall you being the one who told me your brother didn't like me very much."

"He'll get over it."

"Yes, well, I'd like to still be breathing when he does."

She laughed. "He won't be that bad."

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. If I were him, I'd want to kill me."

She frowned. "We're both to blame in this. I'll make sure he understands that."

"Good luck with that," he snorted. After a pause, he said, "And who knows what Anora's going to do."

"She's not going to do anything." When he started to speak, she glared at him. "She's not! So I don't want to hear anything about that again."

A grin pulled up a corner of his mouth. "Yes, ma'am."

Once the ship had docked, Lya and Alistair got their packs and the trunk with their belongings and disembarked. They wove through the crowd, avoiding workers, passengers and carts. A brief chat with a porter, a flash of her signet ring and an exchange of coins arranged for their trunk to be brought to the castle.

Turning to Alistair, Lya asked, "The castle is a couple hours away by foot. We could hire a carriage or horses, but I think I'd like to walk. Is that's all right?"

"That's fine."

So they walked, hand in hand, along the main road that would take them to Castle Cousland. As soon as they were clear of Highever's walls, the castle was clearly visibly in the distance, as it stood upon a rise. She could feel Alistair tense slightly, and sought to reassure him. She wasn't really sure how Fergus was going to react to him. She hoped it wasn't as badly as Alistair was expecting.

She talked as they walked, relating stories and anecdotes of growing up in Highever. She knew she had told some of these stories before, but the goal was to distract Alistair. It seemed to work. For most of the journey, he relaxed, talking and asking questions, laughing easily at her jokes.

As they approached the castle gates, the tension returned to Alistair and Lya felt a little bit of it herself. She took a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous. She was home and reasonably certain that Fergus was going to be very happy about that.

The gates stood open, as they normally did, with a pair of knights standing guard. It was almost the same warm, welcoming feel she had known most of her life here. Almost. There were soldiers on the battlements, more than when she had been growing up, eyes on the horizon, ever vigilant against attack.

It made Lya wonder if Fergus would ever really feel safe in his home again.

Of the two knights at the gate, Lya only recognized one, from her only visit back to Highever. "Ser…Galen, is it? Could you tell me if my brother's home?"

"M-My lady? You've returned?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Ser Galen smiled broadly. "Welcome home, my lady. Yes, you're brother's home. Ser Oisin," he said to the other knight. "Go, quickly! Tell his lordship that his sister's returned."

The other knight, a young man clearly just past his squiring, nodded and dashed through the gates into the castle. Ser Galen called for some men to come take places at the gates, and waited until they got there. Then he bowed briefly and gestured for them to enter the gates, falling step beside them.

Ser Oisin must have found Fergus quickly, for they were no more than halfway across the courtyard when he came through the doors, saw her, and ran to her with a shout, "Lya!"

Lya let go of Alistair's hand and ran to meet him. He caught her up in a crushing hug, spinning her around with a whoop of joy. When he finally set her back down, she was breathless and smiling so hard she thought her face might crack. Fergus put her hands on her shoulders, holding her out at arm's length. "Let me look at you."

She stood still while he took her in, knowing that to him she must look so much better. "You look so good," he murmured. "I can hardly believe it. What happened?"

"He happened." She glanced back over her shoulder, looking at Alistair as he slowly closed the distance between them. Fergus followed her gaze, hands tightening on her shoulders as he realized exactly who had accompanied her.

Alistair's steps slowed as he walked to Lya and Fergus. The teyrn was clearly overjoyed to see his sister and Lya was no less happy at seeing her brother. He could hear them talking quietly as he approached, and then saw Lya look back at him. Her brother looked up, seeing what she was looking at, and his eyes darkened, becoming hard. Alistair swallowed as Fergus carefully let go of Lya and walked towards him.

The set of the man's man, the tension in his shoulders and arms, the way his boot heels clicked a little too loudly on the stone told Alistair exactly what to prepare for. He tried to relax, to resist the urges ingrained by a decade of training and fighting.

The first blow caught him in the jaw, and he tried to move with it, lessen the impact. The second took him in the gut, causing him to stumble and lose his footing, falling on his backside to the flagstones of the courtyard. He was already getting back up when Fergus hit him again, knocking him back down. His hands clenched into fists, but he wasn't going to hit back. He could only hope Fergus didn't feel the need to beat him to death.

"Fergus!"

He heard Lya's horrified cry, saw her come up to grab her brother's arm. Fergus shook her off.

"Get up," Fergus grated at him and Alistair did, ignoring the pain in his face and gut. He turned his head to the side and spat blood, but kept his eyes on Lya's brother. He noted vaguely that there were others filing into the courtyard, curious as to what was happening, but he ignored them. The man's fists were hard and he didn't really want to be taken by surprise.

Fergus was drawing back to land another blow when Lya thrust herself between the two men.

"Stop it!"

"Get out of the way, little sister."

"Move, Lya."

Fergus looked faintly surprised that Alistair had agreed with him. Lya just looked at them as if they were both insane.

"What is wrong with the two of you? Damn it, Fergus, I said stop!" She glared at her brother. "So help me, Alistair might not hit you, but if you hit him again, I will!"

For a moment, Fergus continued to glare, his stance still ready to fight. Then he stepped back, lowering his fist, though his glare didn't abate.

"Dara!" he called and a dark-haired woman separated herself from the small crowd. When she reached them, he said, "Take Lya inside." The woman nodded, but Lya refused to budge.

"No way. The moment I leave you're just going to hit him again."

"I'm not going to hit him."

"Somehow, I don't believe you."

Now Fergus fixed his glare on his sister and Alistair realized stubbornness must be a Cousland trait and not something unique to Lya.

"I give you my word I won't hit him."

That seemed to mollify Lya a bit, but she still stood between them. Finally she held out her hand, palm up, in front of her brother. He looked at it, and then with a muffled curse, bent down and removed a dagger from his boot. He slapped into Lya's open palm. "Satisfied?"

She nodded. "I'll let you two…talk." She gave her brother a warning look, then hugged Alistair, giving him a quick kiss and murmuring in his ear, "If he hits you, hit back. I won't let him blame you for this."

Stepping back, she turned towards Dara and extended her arm, walking into the castle while a servant followed with their packs. Fergus waited until the crowd had dispersed and then jerked his head, indicating for Alistair follow him. He led them up to the battlements, dismissing the soldiers. For a moment, Alistair wondered if Fergus intended to keep his word to Lya by simply tossing him off the parapet. No hitting or stabbing required for that.

They stood in silence as long, awkward minutes passed. Alistair probed his teeth with his tongue. None appeared loose, for which he was grateful.

Fergus finally broke the silence. "How?"

"Um, not to be rude, but could you be a bit more specific?"

A muscle ticked in Fergus's cheek. "How did she get better? How did she end up coming back home? When she was here, she was so lost…. I tried. I tried to help, and nothing worked." He looked over and Alistair saw the pain in his eyes. "How did you do it?"

Alistair felt incredibly uncomfortable, and tugged at his collar, trying to relieve the sudden pressure he felt. "I'm not sure," he finally confessed. "It started when the people you asked to look after her found me. It was a last resort apparently. They forced us to meet and…." He shrugged. "It sort of went from there."

"I'm supposed to believe that? After what happened, after the state she was in, I'm supposed to believe the two of you met and it was suddenly flowers and kittens and everything was all right?"

Shaking his head, Alistair said, "No, it wasn't like that at all. There was yelling and crying and a whole lot of anger. We had a lot of stuff to work through. We're still working through it."

"I see." Silence descended between them again, though Alistair thought he detected a decrease in Fergus's hostility.

"So what did happen between you?"

Alistair wondered how to answer that. He couldn't tell Fergus that the whole thing had been the result of Lya's frayed nerves and overtaxed mind—a product of her fears and her inability to turn to him with it. Or that she had been strained so badly because he had been the one who pushed so much responsibility onto her, had left it to her to make all of the hard decisions and bear the responsibility for them.

He just shook his head slightly. Let others wonder. This pain was theirs, something private, and it shouldn't be shared.

"All right," Fergus said quietly when he saw Alistair wasn't going to answer. "I'm curious, but not enough to jeopardize whatever's working." He pursed his lips and leaned against the battlements. "What are you intentions?"

"What?" The question startled Alistair.

"What exactly are your intentions towards my little sister? I know you're probably already sleeping with her again." Alistair felt the flush rush to his face and down his neck. "But what about the future? Do you intend to stay by her now?"

"If she'll have me," he replied softly.

Fergus considered that. "If you hurt her like that again, I will find you, where ever you are, and kill you myself."

"Fair enough."

Fergus huffed. "You're making it very difficult to stay mad, you know."

"Sorry," Alistair grinned slightly. "I really don't feel like getting hit anymore."

"Hmm." Lya's brother finally sighed. "I can't blame you completely. I know my sister well enough to know she blamed herself for whatever happened. We Couslands have always been big on taking responsibility for our actions, and I won't insult her by treating her as blameless in this fiasco."

He pushed himself away from the stone. "Let's go back inside." He turned and led the way back down the steps. Alistair followed, thinking this might work out after all.

They stayed in Highever for months. Dara, Fergus's wife, welcomed them with open arms, acting as a sister to both Wardens. After a few weeks, the lingering hostility Fergus had towards Alistair faded. The more he saw how genuinely happy Lya was, the more accepting of Alistair he became.

In time, Fergus became first a friend, then a brother to Alistair. That had taken awhile for Alistair to adjust to. It struck him forcefully, here among the Couslands, how much he had missed by never really having a family and how much Lya had lost the night Duncan recruited her. That realization caused him to ask Lya if she knew that as a Warden it would be difficult for her to have children, and that together the odds were nigh on impossible for them.

She lay next to him in silence, before curling up against him and saying, "It doesn't matter."

"But—"

"It doesn't matter, Alistair."

"What if you want a family?"

"I have a family. And right now it's badgering me with silly questions and not letting me go to sleep." Smoothing his hair and placing a gentle kiss against his neck, she said quietly, "I have all the family I want or need right here. As long as I have you, I don't need anything else."

A month later, he proposed, stammering and blushing, with a ring that had once belonged to her mother and given to him by Fergus. Lya cried as she accepted.

They were married two weeks later in a private ceremony in Castle Cousland's small chantry. Lya cried again, both in happiness and in sorrow for all those that should have been there, but weren't.

Just before winter set in, they made the short journey to Amaranthine. Arl Gerod Caron, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, greeted them personally. Alistair had been unsure of the reception they would get, but the Warden-Commander was polite and respectful. He informed them, that due to their service, they were free to choose what they wanted to do. The Grey Wardens would be more than happy to have them return to the Order, but there would be no problems if they chose not to.

They chose not to.

Winter came and they still remained in Highever. During those cold months, Alistair spent a lot of time with Fergus, learning about how a teyrnir was run.

"So you're really intending on going to Gwaren?"

"I haven't talked about it with Lya yet, but yes, I think so."

"Can I ask why?"

Alistair frowned thoughtfully. "She was born to rule, to lead. It seems…wrong…to not let her do that. She's very good at it. And the people of Gwaren deserve a teyrna who will actually care about them. It's not fair, to her or them, to stay hidden away here."

"You probably would have made a pretty good king."

Alistair grimaced. "I doubt it. I can barely wrap my head around what you're teaching me. And court?" He shuddered. "Let's not think about that."

"You're learning in months what it's taken me a lifetime to learn. You'll be fine. Add that to the fact that you're willing to live in the home of the two people you hate the most, all for the greater good, and I think that says a lot. If anyone suggested I live in Vigil's Keep, I'd gut them."

The idea of living in Gwaren still didn't sit comfortably with Alistair, but he and Lya needed their own home, and it was foolish to throw away the opportunity before them because of him. Gwaren, if he could put his demons to rest, would herald a new beginning for them.

He suggested leaving to Lya as spring came. She had been cautious, asking him several times if that was really what he wanted to do. When she finally seemed certain that he was sure, they made plans to move. They would stay long enough to say their goodbyes, and then attend the Landsmeet. When it was over, they would leave Fergus and Dara and continue south to Gwaren.

The morning to leave for Denerim arrived, and Alistair found himself incredibly nervous. Returning to the capital, seeing Anora, walking into the Landsmeet chamber where everything had gone wrong, made him feel ill. A look at Lya told him she was feeling the same way, and that made him feel a little better.

Before they mounted their horses, he pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his forehead against hers. Come what may, they would face it.

Together.