TWELVE

By the time they arrived her shoulder had healed - which was a good thing considering they were met by darkspawn. Suspiciously few of them however. By the time they fought their way to the castle gates she was panicking. This wasn't the horde. They had come to the wrong place.

Riordan confirmed her fears. They were two days from Denerim and by the time they got there the chances were very high the city would be flattened.

"We have to try, though," Alistair said. She was proud of the ring of command she could hear in his voice. He was already justifying the landsmeet's decision.

Teagan and Eamon agreed. A forced march to Denerim the next day. She sighed - she was tired and anxious and desperate for the confrontation that would end the blight. She fingered the ring on her finger and found herself wistfully thinking of being confined to the palace - forced to wear finery and entertain nobles.

She grinned at herself.

Riordan asked them both to attend him in his quarters to discuss the final battle with the archdemon. She was curious, naturally, that this needed specific instructions. Surely they just had to cut its head off? Alistair looked puzzled as well, but they followed him anyway.

Alistair took her hand as Riordan explained why it had to be a grey warden that killed the archdemon. His fingers tightened around hers. She opened her mouth to reply but no words would come.

"One of us has to die?" Alistair said in a small voice.

Riordan nodded. "Don't worry. If at all possible I intend to make the final blow myself. I am the eldest, and the taint will not long spare me. But you need to know, in case I fail."

Alistair's fingers were painfully tight on hers but there was no way she was going to let him go. When they left the room, still silent, Morrigan was waiting for them outside.

"My friend," she said to Miranda. "I need to talk to you alone."

Alistair almost snarled at the witch. "This is hardly the time," he said. Miranda shushed him.

"I'll come to you in a moment," she said softly. He looked at her desperately, then nodded.

She followed Morrigan mutely to her room. Her brain had shut down completely at Riordan's words. The blight has to end. One of us has to die. The two thoughts ran through her over and over, driving out anything else.

"I know what happens when an archdemon dies," Morrigan said. "I know why a grey warden has to make the final blow."

Her head snapped up and looked into Morrigan's eyes. Her friend's eyes. Since their encounter with Flemeth, Morrigan had been a different woman. Her snide comments at Alistair had not ceased, but of an evening she had been civil to the other companions, and they had spent many hours on the road speaking. In many ways Miranda felt closer to Morrigan than any other of her companions, save Alistair.

She listened to the offer. Her brain had not ceased its constant reiteration of the same thoughts, but as Morrigan spoke, another thread introduced itself We can stop it from happening...

But the price...

Morrigan saw her hesitation, took her hand, and sat with her on the bed. "My friend," she said then. "I know you care for the boy..." she looked vaguely disgusted, "for all I don't understand it. I would not suggest this if there were any other way, believe me. But Flemeth gave me this knowledge. My guess is now she wished to use the child herself as a host - once my body grew too old. She wished to harness the power this child will carry. I give my word... I will not do this. I will raise the child and care for it. Neither you, nor Alistair will ever see it, or me again."

"Never?" Miranda said then. "Morrigan, I don't want to lose you either."

"Nor I you," she said. "I never knew friendship, until I met you and it will hurt me to walk away. But you must know the other wardens will never let this child live. Never let me live. To be honest tis a surprise to me that these chantry-loving nobles have allowed me in their presence at all. A testament to your influence, Miranda, and your power, I think. I must leave after the battle. No matter what."

"I... don't know if I will be able to convince him," she said then. She didn't know when she had made the decision to try.

"Alistair will do as you ask," Morrigan said. "He loves you. As do we all."

"It could destroy us," it came out as almost a wail.

Morrigan smiled sadly. "I think not, my friend," she said. "I will do what I can to make sure it does not."

She let out a sigh and got to her feet. "I'll try to convince him," she said. "By the Maker, I hope I can."

Morrigan nodded. "I will wait here for him," she said softly. "But Miranda, if you cannot convince him, I will have to leave tonight."

"I'll do it, Morrigan," she said then.

He was pacing in his room when she got there. "Alistair we need to talk," she said.

"Oh. I guess whatever Morrigan had to say was big."

She looked down at her hands and took a breath that was half a sob. "Hey," he said, stepping forward and lifting her chin with his hand. "What is it?"

"Alistair.. what if I told you there was a way to avoid dying tomorrow?"

"You mean with the archdemon, don't you? If you mean running away I won't do that. But.. you don't mean that, do you? What's this about?"

She told him. He laughed at first, but the first chuckle set her off into a flood of tears.

"What?.. Miranda I've never seen you like this... you can't really be serious?" She nodded and he put an arm around her and they both sat on the bed until her sobs subsided somewhat. "Have sex with Morrigan or be killed by an archdemon... how do you make that kind of choice?"

She hit him weakly on the arm through her tears. "Alistair, I won't let you die. I can't.... I can't let you die and I know you won't let me do it and if Riordan.."

"Riordan is a capable warden..."

"But Howe had him tortured - there's no way he's going to fight as well as he normally does. What if he fails? What if it has to be one of us who kills the archdemon? Morrigan's offer means none of us have to die."

He stroked her shoulder but remained silent for a long moment. "Put yourself in my position for a moment," she said then. "If you knew there was a chance I could die... what wouldn't you do to stop it?"

He looked down at her and his eyes were full. "I would do anything," he said softly. "Anything at all."

She couldn't stop the tears from flowing again. "I don't want you to.. " she started, then stopped.

"Miranda," he said softly. "Nothing that happens tonight will change how I feel about you. Nothing."

She nodded. "She's in my room," she said. "I told her I'd send you there if I managed to convince you."

He knelt on the floor in front of her and took both of her hands in his. "I love you," he said, and rested his head on her knee for a moment before getting up and leaving the room.

She stayed in the same position for what seemed like a long time. She didn't bother to remove her armour, simply stared at the door he had walked out of, willing it to open again, for him to be there, for nothing to have changed.

Eventually it opened and he stood there. His hair was wet and he was wearing a shirt and breeches. He looked the same as ever - her warden. She opened her mouth to ask a question but realised she didn't want to hear the answer and simply sat there, looking at him. He came forward then, and gathered her into his arms, kissing her face, her neck over and over. She felt hot wetness on her skin and realised he was crying silently as he kissed her and she let her own tears fall as they lay back on the bed. He undressed her gently and they curled up together, holding each other until they fell asleep.

The next morning she awoke to find Alistair propped up on his elbow, looking down at her. It felt for a moment like their first morning together - save they were in a bed, not a tent and his face was tinged with melancholy rather than filled with boyish glee.

"Aren't you going to tell me I snore?" she said sleepily. He smiled then and leaned down to kiss her. There was nothing different in the kiss - no evidence that he had done anything other than lie with her the night before and she felt some of her tension disappear.

"We're going to be married," he said. "I'll have to get used to your snoring I suppose."

"I'm going to be queen, right?" she said after a while.

"Why, yes, I believe you are."

"And you said it might be difficult for us to have children?"

He nodded, raising his eyebrow.

"Well then, it would be stupid not to take every opportunity to make one, then, wouldn't it?"

He grinned, and they spent a good hour doing their best to pretend the night before had never happened.

They almost succeeded.

The two days to Denerim passed in a blur for her. When they were within sight of the city and she caught her second view of the archdemon she felt nothing but resolve, and pride in Alistair. He spoke to the troops and she found herself remembering tales of Maric and even Loghain before battle. Maybe it brought out the best in men. Maybe he'd always been a good public speaker - she realised he'd never really had the opportunity in her company before.

In any case during the two day trip they had stayed together like glue and some of their sadness had passed. Morrigan had done a lot to assuage her fears as well - she had come to her in the morning after the ritual and placed her hand on Miranda's arm.

"My friend, it was quick and efficient and something I never want to repeat."

Miranda had even managed to grin at that.

The horror that Denerim had become helped somewhat. It was so changed that she didn't recognise it as the same city. She'd not spent enough time there for her to feel like it was a home, and although her heart ached for the people she saw suffering, she was doing everything in her power to stop that suffering.

Once they took the gate and she split their party, however, she realised how close they were to ending the Blight and couldn't stop herself from being excited. She wondered at herself, that she could feel keen anticipation of the fights ahead of her and decided it must be because, no matter what else, this day represented an end. An end to something that had started more than a year before with the deaths of her family. The best and worst year of her life.

They fought their way through the market district. It was strange having troops to back them up - she consulted with Alistair on how best to utilise them. A party of five or six was all she was used to, and she flinched every time she saw a man fall. Still, their progress was much more rapid than she could have hoped.

At the palace district they saw Riordan fall. There was a lull in the rush of darkspawn and they were able to watch his attempt to slay the dragon - noble but ultimately fruitless. Alistair took her hand as they watched the small figure fall and she hung her head. Morrigan's ritual was all that would save them now. The witch came up to them, then, and nodded at them. "I assure you," she said. "This will not fail. I am sorry, though, that Riordan is dead. I had hoped to save all three of you."

Alistair's face took on an incredulous expression, and Morrigan laughed suddenly. "Even you, Alistair," she said. "You're far too valuable for this woman to lose. And I find myself quite enraptured with the idea of my friend becoming queen."

Alistair cocked his eyebrow at the witch before letting out a smile. Miranda's heart swelled. "Morrigan.. we can protect you," she said. "You don't need to leave."

She shook her head. "I am sorry, my friend. But you will live well without me. You will live gloriously. And I shall know."

Miranda stepped forward and hugged her tightly. Morrigan didn't seem to know what to do in response, until Alistair's voice popped up from behind them. "The idea is to put your arms around her, Morrigan. And squeeze."

She did.

As they made their way up to Fort Drakon, Miranda got close to Alistair's ear. "How did you manage... the other night?"

He frowned down at her. "Let's just say hugging isn't the only thing she's not very good at," he replied.

She laughed, then, and found she could face this battle with the two of them next to her - her family now.

When they reached the archdemon she found it almost impossible to believe that it directed the darkspawn. There was a mindless ferocity about it - an animal cunning that had nothing to do with intelligence and everything to do with the desire for destruction. Perhaps the taint had made it the way it was - there was no mistaking its corruption - it was all she could do to hold in her nausea as she fought.

The mages and elves and dwarves fought alongside them. Eamon was there, swinging his sword in great sweeps that felled five darkspawn at once. The dragon, crippled by Riordan's attack on its wing, was maddened and crushed darkspawn and human alike.

Alistair fought next to her as always, covering her with Duncan's shield, sapping magical strength from the dragon to stop its attacks. She could feel him tiring, however. They were all tiring. The forced march and fight through Denerim had taken more out of them than she had realised.

When the dragon snapped its head forward and closed its jaws around Alistair's middle she screamed louder than he did. She clutched at the beast's neck as it lifted its head, riding it like an enraged horse. Using all her skill, every lesson taught her as a child and in her journey, she swung her legs so she sat astride the beast and lifted her sword, plunging it down into the back of the beasts head and into its brain.

She felt it shudder and open its jaws. Alistair was dropped to the ground and she was surrounded by light. It burned - she could feel white hot heat - but it didn't destroy. She threw back her head and screamed with the pain, unable to let go of the hilt of her sword, filled with light, with heat, with death until the sensations completely overwhelmed her and consciousness shut down.

Her forehead was being stroked by a calloused hand. She was warm, and comfortable and sleepy and she knew the hand well. It was a beloved hand - one that she thought she'd lost.

She murmured and turned her head towards it, her eyelids flickering open to see a familiar face smiling down at her.

"Sister," Fergus said. "It is good to see you."

She sat up in surprise. "Fergus!" she cried, then nearly passed out again.

"Easy, now," another voice said from the other side of the bed. "Don't overdo it my love."

Alistair sat in a chair next to the bed, pale, but whole. "Oh, Alistair!" She simply looked at him for a long moment, drinking in his presence like a fine wine. That the two of them could be here... "I'm not dead, am I?" she said suddenly, frowning slightly.

He laughed, then winced. "No, no, my love. Very much alive."

"I thought you'd been chewed in half."

"I very nearly was," he said, and lifted his shirt to show his middle swathed in bandages. "There are going to be some very interesting scars there later, Wynne tells me."

"Nothing essential was damaged I hope?"

He laughed. "No, everything intact. No need to be frightened on that account."

Fergus chuckled. "I go away for a few months and look what happens when I get back! I find I have a little sister who has united Ferelden, killed an archdemon and... from what this young gentleman tells me... become queen!"

She weakly held up her left hand, the third finger still held her ring. "Seems that way," she said, smiling. She let her head fall back on the pillow, sighing happily. "Archdemon definitely dead?" she said, her eyes drifting shut.

She could hear the grin in Alistair's voice. "Definitely."

"Alistair and Fergus definitely alive?"

There were two affirmative replies this time.

She turned her head to the side and felt herself drifting off to sleep. "Job well done," she murmured softly.

When she woke again only Alistair was there - asleep in the chair next to her bed. She sat up gingerly, trying to feel if anything was broken. Apart from a slight stiffness in her shoulder she seemed to be whole. She felt lighter, somehow.

"You look amazing," Alistair's voice came from the chair and she turned to him, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. The room was full of light from huge double windows and she realised she had no idea where she was.

He grinned at her. "We're in the royal apartments of the palace," he said. "Virtually undamaged - luckily. Get used to them - they're yours now."

"Ours, you mean," she said. "But won't the landsmeet be a bit iffy about me sharing them with you before the wedding?"

"Hey, I'm King aren't I?"

"You might be planning on ruining me and running off with Leliana."

He stood up, wincing, and came to sit on the bed next to her, cupping her chin with his hand and bringing her face close to his. "Never," he breathed, and kissed her.

She lost herself in the kiss, feeling anew the roughness of his cheek, the heat of his lips and brought a hand up to tangle in his hair - so soft. Her other arm came around his middle and she drew him closer... and felt him wince and pull back.

"Ow!... ow....ow..." he said. "Injured! Remember? Big archdemon? Lots of teeth?" She grimaced in apology but couldn't help smiling as well.

"So how long have we got?" He looked puzzled. "Before the vultures arrive and we have to be formal and hero-ish."

"Oh.. that. Well. If I moan and groan a bit we've probably got a couple of days. You could look faint and helpless for a while too - it couldn't hurt."

She laughed. "A long time then," she said, and reached up to kiss him again.

They managed to squeeze three days of relaxation - it would take that long to make the throne room decent in any case, and the Revered Mother had to travel from the monastery outside Denerim - luckily bypassed by the darkspawn - for the coronation. Alistair's wounds had been severe - Wynne told Miranda privately that most hadn't believed he would survive. She was grateful she had been unconscious for that period of uncertainty.

Morrigan had been true to her word and disappeared. Although she was sad at the loss of her friend, she was so buoyant otherwise, with the unexpected arrival of Fergus and Alistair's survival that the sadness was secondary to gratitude. She hoped she would see the witch again.

There were partings, after the coronation. Sten was returning to the Qunari. Leliana was going to the Ashes with the chantry sisters, Wynne back to the circle. Zevran had offered to stay with her and Alistair and she'd been grateful - there were still rumblings about Alistair's appointment and she would feel safer with the assassin on hand. Shale had plans of her own and Oghren muttered something about an old girlfriend he wanted to look up.

Fergus and Alistair became fast friends and it warmed her heart to see the two men she considered all her family in the world so close.

A few months after the coronation, there was a wedding. It was sumptuous, extravagant, royal. The couple were radiant - he in the golden armour that had once belonged to King Cailan, she in white satin that set off the dark curls of her hair and clear grey of her eyes. There were comments on the handsomeness of the pair. A delegation from Orlais attended and were overheard to admire the Queen's shoes.

Miranda and her husband got tipsy at the reception and retired early. At least, that's what the red haired bridesmaid told everyone who asked.

It wasn't entirely true.