A/N: Oh, yeah. Both these chapters are rated M, as is the rest of the story now, for future searching purposes. Sorry 'bout that. Longer note at the bottom of the chapter.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Of First Knights and Kings

.

I want to believe that this is for real

Save me from my fear

~Within Temptation

.

.

The next day dawned windy and cool, the dark, opaque clouds on the horizon promising a formidable storm before the day was over. Alistair spent most of the morning locked up with Arl Eamon while the man tried to wheedle a straight answer from him regarding his cooperation with this new scheme. It was becoming clearer to Alistair as the hours passed that Eamon wasn't sure how to deal with Elissa, and so had determined not to even try.

The thought amused him a little.

By late afternoon, Alistair had had more than enough of her avoiding him. This was nothing of his doing, damn it—he was done taking the heat for it.

It took him a little while to find her. The sky outside had grown dark and foreboding, the wind whipping furiously through the courtyard, stirring up the grasses and sending leaves dancing in spirals along the dusty ground.

Elissa seemed not to have noticed the turn the weather had taken. She was alone in the courtyard, hacking away at one of the practice dummies like it had personally stolen something from her. She had managed to work herself up into a full rage, her eyes narrow and her teeth clenched as she practiced, too caught up in her exercise to notice him. Alistair leaned against the wall, watching her. After a while she stepped back and wiped her face with her sleeve, looking for all the world like she didn't know whether to scream or cry.

She spotted him, then, and began fidgeting in embarrassment that he had seen her momentary lapse of control. Apparently not sure what to say, she gestured weakly at the weapon rack. "You up for going a few rounds?"

He hesitated, but honestly didn't know what to say, either. He didn't quite understand what was going on in her head, and was hesitant to provoke it further when she seemed to be calming slightly. Instead, he shrugged and went over to collect a blunted weapon, figuring that sparring was as good an outlet as any.

At first, he was overly conscious of everything he did, afraid that in his current mood he might inadvertently hurt her. She was still worked up, though, and before he knew it they were going full speed, all thought of safety disintegrating into a burning need to take their growing frustration out on anything available.

Without warning, she hooked her foot behind his ankle and yanked, and he was flat on his back with Elissa hovering over him, her dagger pressed against his neck. He rolled his eyes. "Really? You couldn't have gone easy on me just this once?"

She sat back, a weak ghost of a smile playing across her lips. "No."

He barely heard the answer. Soft weight rested on his middle and around him, and he realized with a jolt that Elissa was straddling him.

That quickly, his body had a whole new idea for ridding him of this unwanted tension.

He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin linen shirt, soft and damp beneath his hands. Her chest was still heaving from the exertion, full lips parted slightly as she looked down at him. He moved without thinking, simply the barest hint of an idea of lifting her off of him, but now she was straddling him and he had a handful of those gorgeous hips.

He closed his eyes, swallowing a groan. Maker, please don't let her move any lower.

"Are you okay?"

He sat up so abruptly Elissa went tumbling off of him with a small yelp, landing on her backside in the grass. "You win."

The first splashes of rain began to fall around them, pattering softly in the grass with a heaviness that promised a downpour soon. It gave him the excuse he needed to scramble up, reaching down hurriedly to tug her to her feet. "C'mon, we'd better get inside."

By the time they ran through the courtyard and into a side door that led to the kitchens, they were fairly drenched. Outside, a peal of thunder rumbled overhead, clearly heard through the hall amidst the crackling of fires in the hearths, servants bustling around to try to ward of the damp.

Elissa made a face as she pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it fall in soft, damp waves down her back. "I need to change."

"Oh… okay," he said weakly as she walked away from him without another word.

… … …

Elissa couldn't shake a single thought from her mind as she hurried through the halls of Redcliffe Castle, desperately trying not to hate the inhabitants as they watched her in some surprise, possibly wondering what could be wrong with her. She couldn't help it. Despite her liking Teagan and her affection for Connor, even her respect for Arl Eamon, they had all become one enemy in her mind, a singular mind bent on only one plan of action.

They were going to take him away from her.

She managed to get to her room before the tears spilled over, hot against her clammy skin as she impatiently wiped at her eyes, trying very hard not to think. Her insides were a quivering mess, heavy and sinking with the knowledge that everything was falling apart and she was able to do nothing more than watch it happen. With a loud sniff, Elissa forcefully pushed the thought from her mind, concentrating instead on the matter of wet clothes and cold air—problems she was equipped to deal with that wouldn't send her spiraling into a sobbing mess.

Someone had already built up the fire in her room, and she tossed on another stack of kindling before she pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it into a sodden limp in the corner of the room, her trousers soon following. She managed to get a dry shirt over her head before she sank down into a chair and buried her face in her hands. She had known this would happen, ever since the first day Alistair confessed his heritage to her. The sole heir to a magnificent, dying bloodline would never be easily overlooked during a civil war that threatened to tear Ferelden to pieces.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Alistair suddenly barged into the room without warning, looking harried and upset. "Elissa, enough. I need to talk to y—holy Maker!"

She almost laughed at the way his eyes widened at her appearance before he spun on his heel and gave her his back, whatever determination he had marched in with spilling away to consternation. She took the opportunity to scrub her face with her hands, trying to remove any trace of tears before she reached for her loose woolen pants and yanked them on, grumbling, "I told you I needed to change."

He made a strangled sound that seemed to neither agree nor disagree with that statement, still shifting his weight uncomfortably. Elissa felt herself smile. "You've seen me naked before you realize."

That only seemed to agitate him further. "Yeah, but you didn't know I was looking, then! I mean… I didn't look…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. "Right. I'm going to go now, and never stop kicking myself."

She tied the drawstring at her waist and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. "You can turn around. It's safe."

He did so slowly, as if he didn't quite believe her, stealing a rapid glance over his shoulder before the rest of his body followed. "I, um, wanted to talk to you."

"So you said." When he didn't say anything, she raised an eyebrow at him, not exactly impatient but not in the right state of mind to help him pull himself together, either. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean… I'm a little nervous, sure…" His voice trailed off and he ran a hand through his hair. "I just realized I have no idea how to ask you this." He took a deep breath. "Okay, here's the thing…" He risked a glance at her, and Elissa discovered it was the first good look he had gotten before his rather embarrassing entrance. "Have you been crying?"

Her hands went up to self-consciously wipe at her eyes again. "That's not what you came in here to ask me."

"No, but it's just become my pressing concern." He moved forward, reaching out to raise her chin with the tips of his fingers. "Elissa?" The honest care that warmed his eyes was nearly enough to break her heart. His hand slid around her waist, drawing her against him. "Please tell me what you're thinking."

She looked at him seriously. "The same thing you're thinking, I think."

"Then just… tell me we'll try. Tell me…" he paused, his heart in his eyes, pleading with her. "Tell me you don't want to lose me, either."

Elissa heard the hesitant twang of hope in his words and shame flooded through her. In all her dealings with her own feelings, she had never once taken the time to consider what she was doing to Alistair. He had obviously interpreted her inability to wear her heart on her sleeve as sheer indifference, rather than the honest fear of just how easily she could fall in love with him.

Had fallen in love with him.

The truth hit her hard, sending her mind reeling in a thousand different directions. This wouldn't work, it was senseless and irresponsible… and wonderful… "Of course I d-don't."

He kissed her. It wasn't sweet and intoxicating, the way he usually kissed her. It was raw and needful, a combination of anxiety and hunger left starving from the night before. His tongue was on her lips, pushing them apart, and she captured it like a prize, returning the kiss with a hunger of her own. Her mind was whirling, thoughts sent into fuzzy oblivion as she lost herself in the taste and feel of him. She would have crawled inside him if she could. He broke away to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her throat, turning her limbs weak.

She wanted his hands on her, wanted to run her own across warm skin without the barriers of linen and armor. She reached back, pulling his shirt out of his belt, sliding her hands up the contoured lines of his back, her fingernails dragging slightly along his skin. She heard Alistair gasp; he lifted his arms and helped her pull the fabric off, revealing bare skin and hard muscle before he reached down eagerly and lifted her own shirt up and off. He stopped suddenly then, his eyes smoldering, devouring the sight of her like a starving man at a feast.

"Maker's breath." His voice was thready and deep, a whispered reverence that made her shiver beneath his heated gaze. Elissa felt suddenly vulnerable, standing there in only her trousers, and tried to push down the quiver of fear that quaked through her as he drew her back against him. He was so much larger than she was, and she had never felt so exposed. She melded her body against his, kissing him to try and forget just how nervous she was as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to stumble over to the bed.

She could finally feel all of him, heated skin and coiled muscles as he lowered her beneath him; could feel the rapid beating of his heart and his weight pressing her down into the mattress. Her body quivered beneath his hesitant caresses of its own accord, her breath hitching in her throat. She felt his skin rise into tiny bumps beneath her palms.

He reached down to tug at the laces of her trousers, and she tried very hard to disguise the tension that snaked through her, trying to force herself to relax.

"Damn it," he muttered against her lips after a bit of a struggle, and there was a hint of a smile there. "There's a knot in these."

She laughed, surprised at how good it felt to do so. The nerves that had been twisting into an unwanted tangle suddenly relaxed, reminding her that the only reason they were doing this at all was because she trusted him. "I'm sure you can figure something out."

He rolled his eyes with a small smile at her lack of help and slid down, her arms braced on either side of her as he fumbled with the knot. "So much for my plans for a smooth seduction," he muttered beneath his breath when the tie gave way to a few strategic pulls, smiling at her quiet laugh before he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to her belly.

It was nothing like she had imagined. Romantic stories and heated encounters had her imagining something feverish and desperate, a loss of control that would carry her away on a wave of passion. Instead, he was tender and teasing as he got rid of the rest of her clothing, careful hands taking pleasure in slowly exploring bared flesh, finding even places that ticked and made her giggle and squirm. He wanted to learn all of her, alternating between lustful and playful, and the low sound of his laughter at her reactions caused her fear to shrivel up like leaves in a fire, blowing away on the winds while the storm raged outside.

When he sat up to unlace his own trousers she had one last moment of modesty, her eyes flying up to the ceiling. But then he was bending forward to slide his mouth back up her stomach and chest in a warm line of kisses that made desire course through her veins, pooling at her center. She lost herself, lost all trace of thought, existing only in this sheltered place where Alistair was making her tremble and quake with need, his breath warming every cold part of her as his mouth explored the places his hands had mapped before. The feel of his skin gliding against hers, the soft brush of her breasts on his chest and then he was looking down at her, his fingers tangling in her hair. Her legs had drawn up to curl on either side of him without conscious thought on her part, her arms wrapped around his neck and she could feel him pressed against her. It was all she could stand, heat flowing in every pore of her body and she moved against him in sheer instinct. He made a noise that sounded almost painful but took the hint, pulling back slightly to adjust himself.

He was trembling all over as he pushed into her, and this sensation was nothing like the slow, unhurried pace he had set so far. Something needful and urgent swelled in the pit of her stomach, urging her to push back. At the movement he moaned against her mouth and drove forward reflexively. Though she had expected the hot stab of pain, she couldn't help the small cry that escaped her, captured by Alistair's mouth before he broke away with a sharp gasp and dropped his head to her shoulder.

"Are…" his voice was ragged and he hauled in a deep breath, "are you okay?"

His entire body was tense as a bowstring, the strain of not moving clear in the straining muscles of his back and shoulders. But the pain was already giving away to a dull ache, shadowed by the fullness deep within her, and she nodded, not coherent enough to form words. She put her hands on his shoulders as he began to move, and when Elissa whimpered at the flood of sensation it had very little to do with discomfort. Soft noises of satisfied pleasure bubbled up in her throat and past her lips, encouraging him to drive deeper. A tiny spark of something else began to grow deep within her, spreading through her in a stream of liquid heat. She tilted her hips by instinct alone, adjusting to the motion, and he bit back a groan, his hands curling into fists in the bedding. She began to work with him, wanting even more of him, the desire to be closer to him overwhelming her, to feel him, to need him, to make him need her.

She lifted her head to taste the skin of his neck, his chest. It was apparently too much for him; her name rumbled in his throat before he rose up to bear his weight on his hands. His eyes were dark with desire as he looked down at her, and Elissa felt her body tense, straining for release. She hooked her ankles at the small of his back, letting the oldest and rawest of human instinct guide her movements. His hips continued to roll against hers, harder, his breathing heavy and erratic. He was fighting for control—she could see it in his eyes.

Alistair made a noise that sounded more like a growl and reached down between their bodies, fingers fumbling for a moment before he found the center of her need. She heard her own loud gasp, felt her body arch against him as he thrust into her a final time with a low groan.

The world exploded.

… … ..

The room was abnormally dark, the black clouds outside casting a twilight dim in the small space despite it being barely midday. A cool, rain-soaked breeze slid through the cracks in the latched shutters, brushing across Elissa's sweat-dampened skin. She shivered.

"Cold?" Alistair was lying on his side with one hand resting on her waist, the blanket draped low on his hips and his hair still damp at the temples. His eyes were closed; he sounded close to sleep despite the early hour.

"Not really." She smiled when he pulled her a bit closer, anyway. "Did you want to talk to me about something?"

"Did I say that?"

"Mm-hmm. You seemed pretty adamant about it."

He laughed quietly, opening his eyes to give her a soft smile. "Whatever it was, it doesn't seem very importantly now." He sat up, propping himself up on one elbow, his eyes warm as he smiled down at her. His other hand reached out to rub a strand of her hair between his fingers. "How did I never notice your hair was this curly before?"

"Oh, that," she said, a little self-conscious until she realized how ridiculous it was for her to be embarrassed over her hair, of all things. "I didn't know either until I cut it off. I thought I had outgrown that stage. I usually wrap it up until it dries, but you… distracted me."

"And I'll have you know it was very brave of me, too, considering it's raining and there's lightning all poised and ready to strike and everything."

She laughed. "Very brave."

He smiled, his fingers gently tracing her brow. "Or maybe I just thought it was worth the risk." He was quiet for a little while. "I'm so crazy about you I swear I must be losing my mind. Every time I'm around you, I feel as if my head's about to explode—I can't think straight."

She hadn't been thinking all that clearly in the past few months, either. "I hope that's a good thing."

"So do I," he said a little wryly. "Here's the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you. Not… ever."

"I think…" She didn't want to consider the uncertain future or ramifications—or anything else for that matter. She just wanted to stay right where she was, pretending that the world outside was nothing more than a passing thunderstorm. "I think we should lock that door and spend the rest of the day right here."

He laughed and pulled her closer. "You know, I like the way you think."

… … …

Alistair was firmly buried in a deep sleep the following morning, dragged beneath the surface like a rock at the bottom of a lake. It took him a long time to realize the sounds he was hearing were not his dreams at all, but coming from outside the door. Even then, he was barely conscious when Leliana burst in with Aiden at her side. He groaned quietly. Really, this thing with people barging in on them all the time was getting more than a little tiresome. "I thought we locked that door."

Elissa stirred slightly beneath his arm, murmuring sleepily, "You left it open when you got up in search of food."

"Blast." Alistair lifted his head, glaring at Leliana through one eye. "Go away."

She crossed her arms, looking a little too determined for his liking. "I cannot do that, I'm afraid. I gave you all of yesterday, but there is something I have to discuss with both of you, right now."

At that moment, Aiden apparently decided to take matters into his own hands. Alistair saw his muscles bunch before he was suddenly leaping, landing heavily on Alistair's side of the bed. "Oof! Get off me, you ruddy mutt." He sat up, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand as he shoved the dog's enormous head out of his face. "All right, all right—we're up."

Elissa sighed and sat up. She had already slipped her shirt back on before falling asleep, and she reached for her pants and managed to slide them on beneath the covers before she reached over to pat Aiden. "Poor baby. I looked for you last night, but I couldn't find you. Did you have to sleep by yourself?"

"He was outside all night," said Leliana. "I found him this morning. Someone tied him up in the courtyard."

"Isolde," said Alistair, stretching. "She hates dogs. I'll warn her to tell the servants to leave him alone." He clutched the covers around his waist, not nearly as comfortable with the risk of putting his body on display as Elissa apparently was. "Um, Leliana?"

"Yes?"

"Leave."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Come, Elissa, let's go find something for your breakfast while we discuss a problem. I think you will react better on a full stomach."

Well, that certainly sounded foreboding. He and Elissa exchanged a glance before she turned to follow Leliana out into the hall. The moment the two women left, Aiden turned on Alistair fiercely, growling low in his throat.

He only smirked at the animal as he got up. "Don't get all huffy with me because you're so easily bribed. Maybe a night out in the rain will teach you what happens to third wheels and traitors, mongrel."

… … …

Teagan was more grateful than ever for Leliana's presence that morning as they gathered around the breakfast table. While he had come to greatly admire the woman, impressed by her sharp mind and casual grace, he had never before experienced her quick ability to diffuse a formidable temper.

He was coming to learn that Elissa's temper certainly fell under the definition of formidable.

He could hardly blame the girl. Teagan knew that Eamon was just as ruthless as any other noblemen when it came to getting his way, and he was better at manipulation than most, but even he was a little shocked by this turn of events. Eamon had crossed a line, and now they were left in a position where they could do nothing more than react. It was enough to frustrate anyone, he supposed.

They heard the whistling down the hall before Alistair came into view, looking as bright and chipper as a songbird this morning. The tension in the room was palpable, however, and it didn't take but a moment before the young man paused, eyeing them all with a degree of trepidation. "Okay, what's going on?"

Elissa's voice was completely flat as she answered, only a hint of her anger seeping through the careful mask of calm. "Eamon's taken it upon himself to announce the existence of an heir to the blood, and one closely associated with the last surviving Cousland."

The cheer Alistair had woken with abruptly drained away. "He did what?"

Teagan sighed and rubbed his eyes, leaving it to the young couple to hash it out in hurried whispers at the opposite end of the table. He could see Eamon's reasoning, of course. A blood claim would hold tremendous sway after so many months of civil war, and though it ached to admit it, Alistair was sharper than Cailan ever was. He could learn the role, if he truly wanted to. But he looked tired and desperately unhappy at the very thought—not a very good indication that he'd even try.

Still, the two that were currently discussing the situation were young, and more than a little reckless, and had spent far too long on the road leading without the benefit of a calmer mind to help them rationalize important decisions. Teagan decided it was time to intervene. "You must admit, my lady, that your association with Alistair is only a strength in this situation. It lends credence to these claims, as well as on yours as the Warden Commander of Ferelden. There is still a significant portion of the nobility who are undecided in this war. This may help to guide them in our direction."

Elissa frowned, unable to refute that reasoning. She sat back in her chair, arms crossed. "I realize that. I just don't much appreciate being informed of it."

He didn't point out that had her father and brother still been alive, she would likely have already been informed that she was getting married. Teagan was nearly certain she was already Alistair's lover, and part of him could only be grateful he didn't have to smooth over the situation with the two intimidating men.

Still, it was hardly Eamon's place to do the honors in their absence.

Elissa looked considerably calmer than she had moments before, however, chewing at her lower lip as she thought the matter through. She was young, not stupid, and Teagan was confident she would be reasonable once her temper cooled. The sight of a bit of linen wrapped around Alistair's hand momentarily distracted her. "What happened to your hand?"

He hastily covered the bloody bandage with his other hand. "Um… nothing. I was just playing with Aiden and he got a little rough."

She looked startled. "He bit you?"

"Only in the sense that he put his teeth in my hand. It's fine. What were you saying?"

… … …

It was late before Alistair got another chance to be alone with Elissa. Even the revelation of Eamon's plans hadn't lessened his sudden desire to have him by his side constantly, prattling on about things that seemed somewhat insignificant in the grand scheme. Alistair suspected that Eamon was leery of letting him out of his sight now that the word about him was out and circulating—as if he hadn't had enough daggers aimed at his back already.

This was not going to be fun.

He finally found Elissa just as she was retiring for the night, stopping her just outside of her chamber. She had been exceptionally quiet for most of the day, lost in thought and beyond his reach—not really a place he wanted a woman he had just lost his virginity to to be. They hadn't had a chance to talk about anything between them, caught up in a new world of politics and web spinning. She smiled when she saw him, leaning up against the chamber door to wait.

That was something, at least.

Alistair didn't quite know what to say when he finally caught up with her, settling for reaching out for her hand. She didn't pull away from him—another good sign. "Hey. I'm sorry I barely saw you today. Eamon had a lot to talk about, it seems."

Her smile grew marginally wider. "You could try telling him back off, you know."

"That might end all life as we know it. Besides, I needed to straighten a few things out with him, as well. He has this new obsession with discussing my love life with him, including future plans for children. I thought it was time to set him straight. He was… not thrilled."

Elissa visibly winced. "You told him?"

He shrugged. "I thought he should know if he's going to be so determined to push for this." She looked stricken. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Let's just say I'd have preferred not telling him."

Irritation bubbled up just beneath the surface, warm enough that Alistair dropped Elissa's hand to reach up and rub his eyes. "Enough, please. Enough of the hints and subtleties and acting like this is all just going to go over my head. This is my life you two are arguing over. Just tell me what you're thinking already. I promise I'll do my best to keep up."

Elissa had the decency to look chagrined. "You're right. I'm sorry." She drew in a deep breath. "The problem, as Arl Eamon sees it, is that the country doesn't currently have a ruler aside from Loghain. He's right enough about that being shifted to our primary concern. Without leadership, we have no hope of ending this Blight."

"What about Anora?"

"Anora is acting as queen only because Loghain allows her to. With Loghain named as regent, and no heir to grant her the position of dowager, she lost all claim to her crown when Cailan died. She's nothing more than the regent's daughter. That's probably why we've heard nothing of her since this happened. If she confronts her father, he's likely to send her packing to Gwaren."

He mulled that over for a moment. "Hence his sudden interest in you."

Elissa nodded slowly. "I think he had some idea of pushing us forward as a pair. With your royal blood, and my family, we would hold a much stronger claim than either of them."

"As a… you mean, he wanted us to get married?" Alistair rocked back, a little stunned. The thought had never even occurred to him. It made sense. Some of the dread that had been plaguing him dissipated. "That… sounds a lot less terrible." She didn't look as relieved as he felt. "Doesn't it?"

"The Landsmeet won't stand for it once the news gets out that I can't have children," she said, her voice completely flat. "I couldn't do it. If you take the crown and don't produce an heir, this civil war starts again in thirty years, and this time, there would be no one left with even a hint of rightful claim. It could drag on… for centuries, really. Never doubt the determination of the nobility to destroy to get something they want, Alistair, especially with something as appealing as a throne on the line." She sighed. "No, if you were to win this, they'd push you to marry someone of good, healthy breeding stock to increase your chances."

Well, that certainly simplified things. "Then I won't do it."

"It's not that simple, Alistair."

"It is that simple. I won't do it. We're not supposed to interfere with politics, anyway. How did Eamon put it? Gather our armies and throw ourselves at the Archdemon? Let's go with that."

"Alistair…"

"I'm not losing you, Elissa." He reached up lifted her chin, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "My bloodline has never done anything but take what I wanted away from me. I won't let it take you, too."

"But…"

"Elissa, stop." He stepped nearer, tilting her head back so she'd have to look at him. "Look, I love our witty banter as much as the next person, but it's time for some honesty, here. I don't want anything but you. We alreadydecided what's going to happen if we survive this Blight. We're coming back here. Together."

She smiled. "I doubt if our reception will be as warm as we thought it might be."

He shrugged. "I thought the where wasn't the important question."

"It's not."

"You really thought about this, didn't you?"

"I did."

"And you spent the night with me, anyway?"

She lifted her chin. The stubborn tilt to her jaw when he could still sense the pain beneath the surface made his heart swell in his chest, strengthening his resolve. He didn't think he could ever love anyone the way he loved this proud, infuriating woman. "We still have a Blight to get through, and that comes before any of Eamon's plans. You're still mine for now, aren't you?"

"I was yours the moment I turned around and found you standing behind me at Ostagar." He sighed, glancing at the chamber door behind her with the question growing between them, and decided as long as he was being honest, he might as well go for broke. "I have no idea how I'm going to keep my hands off you once we're back in camp with no privacy."

Her smile turned decidedly sly. "We should probably get it out of our system, before we're back on the road."

He looked at her for only a moment before his mouth was on hers, tugging at her shirt while she pulled at his belt as they tumbled through the chamber door.

A/N: Please read!

As a lot of you know, I've had a number of computer issues which led me to lose this story as well as its sister stories entirely. After a long bout of sulkiness and pouting, I determined I would try to write them again, and set out to do so.

However, a series of personal blows in real life has made that all but impossible.

I still bear enough love for these characters that I would rather see this fractured and incomplete then try to force voices I no longer carry and ruin them completely. Alistair and Elissa have been my inspiration, my sanity, and my friends for the better part of three years. I'll be sad to see them go, but this feeling I'm having seems very final, and I think it's time to say good-bye. These will be the final two chapters of Shades of Grey.

I wanted to thank all my loyal, enthusiastic, wonderful readers for taking this journey with me. When I first came to this fandom, I had written only in secret, unsure if anyone wanted to hear anything I wanted to say. You have given me so much encouragement and fulfillment—I don't know exactly how to thank someone for making you feel like a writer, but I'm offering that thanks to all of you. You've been absolutely wonderful, and I'm so sorry I couldn't deliver a finished product.

For those of you who can be patient with snippets of rambling that don't always add up, I'm uploading PDFs of the parts of both this story and Time After Time that I have left onto my deviantArt account just as soon as I can. You can find the link on my profile page. It can at least give you an idea of where I was going and a few more scenes to put the pieces together. A poor way to thank you, I realize, but hopefully there's a bit of enjoyment to be found in there.

Once again, thank you for all the support and wonderful messages. Keep being awesome!