Five Years Later

Near Denerim

Alistair's whole body ached.

Saddle-sore and weary of traveling, every muscle in his body cried out its need to rest, but now, only a few hours from home, he would not yield to his fatigue. The sun was setting, but neither Teagan nor the head of his guard suggested one last night on the road; the delegation was as eager as Alistair was for home.

They'd been gone from Ferelden for nearly four months and in Alistair's humble opinion that was four months too long.

He'd left his beautiful wife safely at home in Denerim, acting on his behest during his time away. Her talent for dealing with the Bannorn had afforded him the necessary time to focus on troubles outside of Ferelden, and thank the Maker for that, he thought in frustration, for those troubles were growing daily.

Relations between his kingdom and Orlais had steadily grown sour over the last two years and he'd hoped tensions could be eased with a state visit to Val Royeux. However, shortly after his arrival, he'd realized the political situation in the garish capital had nothing to do with Ferelden itself. Celene's powerbase was not what it had once been and if she could not restrain some of her more ambitious noble families then…

Pulling off a gauntlet, he rubbed his tired eyes, not wishing to finish that particular line of thought. With a weak laugh, he inwardly reminded himself that ignoring worries had never served him very well. Sighing, he again felt a pit of anxiety in his belly, thinking of the turmoil in the Free Marches, something else he'd not been able to ease during his journey.

Kirkwall's Circle had fallen shortly after his visit, and Grand Cleric Elthina was murdered in her own chantry by a possessed Grey Warden, a man whom he and Annika had once known. The city's champion, a Fereldan refugee by the name of Marian Hawke, had been appointed the new Viscountess, but her steadying influence would need time to soothe her people's nerves.

Kirkwall, Orlais, Starkhaven and the Qunari all lacked for stable leadership and the Chantry was proving no more capable of maintaining control than anyone else.

Thedas, he now knew, was going to the Void in a hand basket and it was clear that he and Annie would soon face their greatest test as Ferelden's rulers. The world was at the brink of something cataclysmic and every man, woman and child seemed to sense it.

Maker he wished he were home, he thought with a sigh, for at least then he could pull Annie into his arms and share his fears of what may come. He closed his eyes as his horse followed his guard and gave his thoughts over to her.

She'd finally allowed him to crown her his queen, though it had only been in the last year. The most recent Landsmeet had happily agreed to elect her, but she'd still made a great show of swearing fealty to her king, taking the same oath that any other noble would.

He'd grumbled at bit at that, and he'd been entirely uncomfortable when she'd bent her knee to him, but as always, she'd been correct. The Bannorn managed to admire her even more for the gesture and no one doubted that King Alistair ruled Ferelden, which was exactly what she'd wanted. With a small smile he marveled at his wife's uncanny ability to cater to politics while still being perceived as a quiet advisor to her husband.

He'd been right; she was an excellent queen to her people.

It seemed a lifetime ago that he'd awakened in her room at the Purring Pussy, angry and bitter, determined to leave and for reasons he still couldn't understand, she'd not let him go.

The year after the Blight ended had been a nightmare for him, one ended by her faith in them and in their love. Forgiveness had been found, and eventually, their future together saved. Joy, love, life and their marriage had soon followed, but it was nearly lost to Anora's twisted mind. Yet somehow, someway, they'd come through it all, better and more in love than ever.

It was a miracle, his life with Annika, one he vowed to never take for granted.

It was hard now to recall why he'd fought so hard against being king, a role that fit him like a glove. To his great shock he felt more comfortable leading his kingdom than he ever had in his role as a warden.

Father, husband, king… those were the titles he carried most proudly.

He recalled the Landsmeet after Anora's death. Despite the certainty he'd felt that he was ready for the throne, he'd still been a nervous mess that day. Annie had quietly squeezed his hand, nodding once when the Landsmeet called him forward, the nobility eagerly to hear his case.

He'd expected to endure round after round of questions and criticisms, certain he'd face hours, if not days of grueling challenges to his claim, his fitness and background. Yet thankfully, unlike the tumultuous Landsmeet that had eventually freed his wife and brother-in-law, this second one had proven far less interesting.

The nobility of Ferelden wanted the Theirin heir to take his place and with almost no opposition, he had. The dreaded Landsmeet convened after only two hours, heralds dispatched immediately to declare the ancient body's decision: a Theirin would rule again.

The Bannorn and people of Ferelden needed a ruler and quickly. The shocking death of their previous ruler, along with the revelation of her crimes, had caused great concern for the overall stability of the kingdom, both at home and abroad.

The nobility practically threw him onto the throne, ill-fitting ermine cape and all.

His coronation had happened within days of the Landsmeet, and despite the alacrity of the event, it had proven opulent and festive. Publically crowning their new king was of the utmost priority to the Landsmeet and the people of Denerim eagerly celebrated the news. His reign began at a breakneck pace and it hadn't slowed down since.

Warden-Commander Caron hadn't been terribly pleased to learn of the Landsmeet election of a warden, but he'd kept his opinions mostly to himself, venting his ire only to his commanders and to Annika and Alistair. His annoyance was tempered, though, once Fergus had finally been persuaded to allow the wardens the time they needed in Amaranthine and in the end, Caron and Fergus reached an accord.

The wardens still successfully administered the arling to this day.

Once Alistair had been crowned, the Bannorn satisfied, the wardens settled, the Architect and the Mother defeated, and just as he'd begun to learn his way around the palace, his world once again turned itself upside-down.

To his great happiness, it had never been the same.

With the cry of a warrior, his perfect daughter had arrived in the middle of a chilly winter night, ten fingers and ten toes and absolutely gorgeous in his estimation, despite resembling an angry raisin.

Ella was nearly five now, and while blessed with her mother's savvy mind, she had the look of a Theirin as well as her father's sense of humor, not to mention his love of cheese, something which gave him an indescribable amount of joy.

His girls were everything to him, a fact he told anyone who'd listen.

Annie had suffered four miscarriages since Ella and they'd mourned the loss of each child. She'd eventually spoken with a warden healer at Vigil's Keep and he'd confirmed their darkest fears. It was unlikely she'd carry another pregnancy to term, he'd advised; the Taint in Annie's body had simply grown too strong for her body to sustain such life.

While she'd been unsurprised at the healer's conclusion, it had still broken her heart. She'd kept her grief well-hidden from most, but for a time she'd been distant from Alistair, the complexity of their loss difficult for her to find peace with.

It had scared him to his toes, the stillness he'd seen in her, but despite his panic, he'd managed to coax her heart back to his, and their family weathered the healer's sad news as one.

For Alistair, however, his pain that there would be no more children served as a daily reminder that Ella was the miracle Leliana had hoped she would be. The bard's vision continued to give him hope that their futures, despite the storm on the proverbial horizon, were still bright with happiness.

"Alistair!" called out Teagan, pulling him from his thoughts. "If we stop and water the horses now, we'll likely make the city gates by midnight. If not, they'll tire and we'll be slowed."

"Right then," he replied, nodding his head and adjusting himself in his saddle. "Captain O'Donnell," he said, speaking to his long time commander of the King's Guard, "let's have a rest, shall we?"

The captain nodded, gave the order to stop and several of his more seasoned guardsmen rode ahead to select a stopping point. When a suitable clearing was found, the guardsmen secured the area and established a perimeter before O'Donnell gave the signal for Teagan and Alistair to dismount.

Jacob O'Donnell had initially declined Alistair's offer to return to his position as head of the King's Guard, but eventually Alistair had been able to persuade the capable man to return to his post.

Jacob had married his love Lisa, who was currently expecting their first child. His family was now settled in a modest home in Denerim, and he routinely defused Alistair and Teagan's efforts to elevate the honorable captain, only willing to accept their friendship.

Being friend to the king, he'd said, was certainly more valuable than any title Alistair could create and the captain and his wife had long since become a part of their inner circle.

"We're home now, Jacob," Alistair said with a tired grin as the three men came to stand together. "I doubt there's anyone here who wants to kill me."

"Perhaps not, Sire, but one never knows," Jacob replied with a half-grin. "And your safety is not a negotiable thing, home or not."

"Thank the Maker we are finally back in Ferelden," Teagan added, rubbing his shoulder with a grimace. "Maker's blood, I'm sick of traveling, even my kinks have kinks."

Jacob laughed. "I'm looking forward to not having to sleep with one eye open," he commented. "Being surrounded by Orlesians was the stuff of nightmares for me. And then to have the delegation from Antiva arrive? All I could think of were of the horror stories Zevran has shared over the years."

"Ha! Best enjoy what sleep you can, my good man," Teagan grinned. "Once your dear wife delivers, you'll be keen to return to Orlais, eager for the chance to sleep!"

Jacob laughed. "I just might!"

"Yes, well, for me, I'd say the best part of this was the complete and utter waste of our time and coin," Alistair said facetiously. "I mean, after all, we travelled far from our wives and homes to accomplish absolutely nothing and have no good news whatsoever to share upon our return. I can't tell you how eager I am to meet with my council; truly, I'm aflutter with anticipation."

Teagan chuckled. "Look at it this way, Alistair; you know better than most what may well threaten our borders in short order. Considering that in the short time we've been gone, the Free Marches have pitched headlong into chaos, the Circles have begun to fall and the Templar Order is deserting the Chantry in droves, that knowledge may well give us all a leg up in how we navigate this nightmare."

"Besides, things could be worse," Jacob added with an arched eyebrow. "After all, it's not a Blight."

"Well then, I suppose as long as an Archdemon doesn't appear, we're still ahead of the game," Alistair replied with a weary grin. Glancing around, he saw the guardsmen were nearly finished tending to their horses. "Come, friends, let's be underway so we may at least put this blasted trip out of its misery."

xXx

They'd arrived at the palace a few hours later, the midnight bells of the numerous chantries ringing shortly before they'd crossed the ornate bridge into the Palace District.

Teagan said his farewells and a few guardsmen rode with him to the Guerrin estate; they would meet with the council in two days time. Alistair had urged Jacob to divert to Fort Drakon but the captain had reminded his king that his night ended only when his charge was safely delivered to the palace.

"We've both beautiful women waiting for us in our beds, friend," Alistair noted. "If it were me, I'd make a dash for home."

Jacob had simply shaken his head, though their pace increased.

Now, Alistair, freed from his heavy armor by a page and finally walking the near-silent halls of the palace, made his way to the private suites reserved for the royal family.

"So, our stray templar finally returns," said a familiar voice from the shadow of the gallery outside of the royal apartments. "Welcome home."

"Zevran," Alistair answered, grinning as he offered his hand to the Antivan elf. "I should have known you'd be staying close."

"One can never be too careful these days, as I am sure you are aware," the man replied with a shrug. "O'Donnell does his job very well, but even he cannot prevent mischief all the way from Orlais. I simply wish to protect what matters most to us all."

The warrior nodded, unsurprised in the least that despite a battalion of nearly four hundred soldiers stationed near the palace, the faithful assassin still felt compelled to safeguard Annie and Ella.

"I'm grateful, Zev, truly."

"Also, before you and Annika are distracted by the constant sex you'll be having for the next day or so, you should know that Warden-Commander Caron has been to the palace many times in the last two weeks. His pinched face and scowls seem rather more intense than usual," the Antivan added. "I am also hearing rumors of things which… give me pause. I would like an opportunity for you and I to speak alone of this before much more time passes."

Alistair nodded, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Do we need to speak before I meet with the council? I'd planned to do so two days from tomorrow."

"Yes, that would be best."

"Join us for breakfast that morning, we can discuss it then, does that suit?"

"It does," the elf replied, a slow smile beginning to spread across his face as his eyes settled on something behind Alistair. "I believe that someone wishes to see you."

Turning around quickly, Alistair saw a small face peeking through the opening of the gallery door.

"Papa!" cried Ella, bursting into the room, her blonde hair loose around her angelic face. "You're here! You're back!"

Alistair scooped her up, tossing her in the air before hugging her tightly. "Maker, I have missed you so! Look how big you've become! Let me see you, darling!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees and letting her stand.

She grinned as she spun around and then tossed herself back into his arms. "I did grow! Mother says so and then the cobbler came to measure me for new slippers and riding shoes because my old ones are too tight! Are you staying home now? Did you tell those Orlesians to behave? Did Uncle Teagan come home too?"

Alistair nodded. "I am, no more trips for a while, love, not if I can help it, and yes, Teagan is home too."

"Good! Connor is home from the Circle, and he came here looking for Uncle Teagan. I told him he was in Orlais helping you scold the empress," she rambled, kissing his cheek. "I hate it when you're gone," she replied, kissing his cheek again as she stepped back. "Uncle Zevran has taught me how to throw a dirk! He says I'm getting better at it too!"

"You've been very busy, darling," Alistair replied, grinning madly at her. He arched an eyebrow. "Isn't it rather past your bedtime?"

Ella's nanny, Penny was lingering near the doorway and she smiled kindly. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, she somehow knew you'd be home tonight and the queen and I haven't been able to convince her otherwise. I let her talk me into walking down here, certain she'd finally relent and retire. I'm pleased she was right and I wasn't. Welcome home, ser."

"Thank you, Penny, it's very good to be here. Is the queen still awake?"

"I'm afraid I'm not certain, ser," Penny replied. "The hour is late and I didn't wish to disturb her when the princess wouldn't settle in. With your permission, I'll take your daughter to bed now."

Ella yawned as Alistair lifted her into his arms, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair and kissing her cheek.

"You may," he answered, snuggling his suddenly tired child close, carrying her to her nanny. Penny reached for Ella as her father wished her sweet dreams. "I love you, darling girl."

"I love you, Papa," she said softly. "Good night."

With a nod from her king, Penny quietly carried Ella from the room.

"I would wish you a good night, but that seems rather obvious, my friend," Zevran quipped, bowing slightly as he moved toward the opposite doors. "You have been missed, Alistair. Welcome home."

Before Alistair could answer, the assassin had left the gallery.

Alistair sighed contentedly and followed the route Penny and Ella had taken, quietly entering the family apartments and moving his way through the darkened corridors. He paused and smiled when he saw a soft light shining under the doors of the suite he shared with Annie.

He quickly turned the knob.

She was settled in front of the massive fireplace, papers scattered all around her, and dressed in a chemise and thin robe. Her hair was loose and its tips curled at her lower back, and while she'd clearly heard the door open, she didn't immediately look up.

"Oh Penny, you poor dear, I'll be right there to help," she called out, moving to her knees and laying aside what she'd been reading. "That girl's being a real rascal tonight."

He grinned. "Well, she was just so certain I'd be home, you see."

"Ali!" she cried, scrambling to her feet and racing to him. He opened his arms as she threw herself into them. "Alistair!"

He kissed her, every burden melting off of his soul as he felt her supple lips meet his. Four months without her, without feeling her skin, smelling her perfume or hearing her voice was finally over.

Damn Orlesians, he thought as he tasted her. He was never leaving home again.

xXx

A few hours later, his beautiful and very naked wife was straddling him, leaning close to kiss him again.

"So," she whispered against his lips. "The rest of Thedas is falling apart, hmm? I thought you were taking care of that."

He arched an eyebrow, kissing her gently. "It is and I did try. We'll still have to do something about it, I'm afraid."

She pushed up slightly, her hair pooling around them. "We've had our turn at saving the world, love," she replied wryly. "If they all want to go out and break it again, we're not to blame."

He chuckled, cupping her cheek. "No, I suppose we're not," he whispered softly, kissing her again. "But I'm afraid we may not have the option of telling the rest of Thedas to work it out on their own."

She giggled, nodding before her smile slipped. "How bad is it, Ali?"

He sobered and she saw this in his gaze. "It's bad," he admitted. "We'll need to be ready. Zevran said Caron has been here a lot as well. If any of the rumors I've heard on the roads are accurate, we'll need to speak with the wardens and soon."

She nodded and then sighed, flattening her breasts against his chest and wiggling her hips against his returning arousal. "Ali, do you remember when you told me I could use you to forget my worries?" she asked huskily.

He smiled, rolling them over in one swift motion, pinning her against the mattress with his bulk. "I think I recall something like that, yes," he breathed as he caressed her breast. "Why? Something you need to forget, love?"

She whimpered as he took a rosy and pert nipple between his teeth, cupping the breast in one hand while his other travelled down her belly and parted her swollen folds, fingering her. Her moans brought him to a full erection and he lifted his hips, entering her with one hard and deliberate thrust.

She cried out his name out as he mounted her and they moved as one, their passion for one another as urgent and consuming as ever. He loved the feel of her under him, her musky scent of want for him encouraging the more primal side of his male pride to pound its chest.

She was his and her pants and moans of pleasure egged him on, more than determined to leave her limp from satisfaction.

Her hands were locked with his, pinned above her head and as he felt the first wave of her orgasm, she entwined her legs tightly around his waist, needing him to be as deep as he could inside her heat. He saw stars as she milked him and he exploded in pleasure, burying himself to his base, his muscular frame shining with sweat.

"Ali," she whispered as he lay over her, kissing him slowly but with tender passion. "Ali, I love you."

He rested his forehead against hers, still buried in her sheath. "I love you, Annie," he breathed. "You are my heart."

xXx

Sleep eluded him, despite his exhaustion from his travels and a perfect night of no rest.

He studied his bride as the night sky was slowly subdued by a new day, marveling at her delicate features and full lips, the pink hue of her nipples, the curve of her breasts. Her lashes were long, resting lightly against the tiny dusting of freckles the sun darkened in the summer. He smiled softly, thinking of the sound of her laughter, of her indomitable spirit… of who her love had allowed him to become.

During the Blight he'd lost many nights of sleep, but not all of those were due to the nightmares the Archdemon stirred within him. He'd been afraid of so much, not that he'd understood it at the time.

Falling in love with Annie had been so natural that he'd been lost in it. However, as easy as falling for her had been, he'd been positive she could never feel the same. This beautiful nobleman's daughter, so kind and open, so willing to listen to his ramblings and laugh at his jokes could never love someone like him. She was a woman worthy of so much more than he would ever be.

He'd watched her sleep on those nights, the firelight casting shadows on her. He'd vowed to be strong, to not allow whatever he saw in her, what he'd wished they could be, to affect his duty.

Yet he'd been unable to stop himself from making his jumbled confession of his feelings to her and when she hadn't rejected him, when she had admitted she cared for him as well, he'd nearly accused her of lying, but for once, his tongue had been too tied to ruin the moment.

Everything had moved at lightning speed after that, and their flirtation had evolved into something so much bigger than what he could then understand. She'd given herself to him, had allowed him to love her, to use her, to lean on her, to soothe his own fears and then he'd run away.

Like the boy he'd been.

Luckily, the man he'd become now understood the merit of those horrible times. He knew that what had been forged in fire, what had been tested and tried, would never bend. The Maker had surely crafted them for one another and he'd learned long ago to not doubt it.

Pushing up on his elbow, he gently kissed her brow before quietly climbing from their bed. He pulled a loose fitting pair of breeches over his naked form, tying the string as he softly stepped out of the room and onto a balcony at its far end.

The newness of the day filled his lungs, and he drew a long breath of the fresh scent of the warming earth and the crispness of the dew. There was little movement in the courtyard below, dawn was just breaking. Thoughtfully he watched the changing colors of the sky as the sun showed itself, the blend of vivid pinks and purples gracefully folding together.

He rubbed his face, his rough stubble scouring his hands.

He'd take today to spend with Annie and Ella, regardless of the grumbles he would surely hear at the council meeting. The day promised to be warm again and perhaps, he thought, he could take Ella for a swim, now that Annie had made them both learn.

With a sigh he pondered the days to come, days which were sure to alter everything. Glancing back to his bed, at Annie sleeping and tangled in the sheets, he felt a spark of anger fire in his chest, anger that again the outside world would control their lives.

They would need to make ready, to prepare their government and their people for the discontented mayhem that seemed to be swallowing so much of Thedas whole. The speed of the consuming chaos reminded him of a wildfire, the flames licking and jumping without order or reason.

The Circle, the Chantry, the Qunari… he knew with a sickening surety that their turmoil would soon spill into Ferelden. He and Annie would need to work closely with Caron and Weisshaupt as well, if the rumors and his bizarre dreams were any indication of what else may be unfolding.

"Damn," he cursed softly, shaking his head, his eyes narrowed in determination, his heart heavy with what must be done. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

His gaze returned to the dawn and he closed his eyes, remembering again what mattered most.

Today he would simply be a husband and father, the kingdom and troubles of Thedas could wait. These opportunities to simply belong to his wife and daughter would grow far and few between, he knew, as surely as he knew they would endure.

Returning to their bed, he cradled Annie in his arms and finally slept.

The End

Well, look at that, it's done...

Couple of things here. First, thank you to everyone who has followed this story, I'm grateful for your time, your reviews and your PM's.

This is my second fanfic story, my first was a mess. This one has taught me a great deal about how I write and how to write for my readers, how to convey what matters and how to trim the fat. That's a big lesson (and sometime pill) to swallow. I'm hugely grateful for the chance to improve my writing, although, I am very aware I've miles to go.

This, however, isn't my biggest gain from the experience of writing this.

The greatest gift from the three years invested in this story is having developed a true and genuine friendship with my beta, one that has grown well beyond the boundaries of "You dropped a comma" and into "My flight gets in at three! See you then!"

I'm a person of faith and I firmly believe God placed her in my path. She's one of the most fantastic people I know, a ridiculously talented writer, and has a heart the size of Texas. It's a blessing to call her friend.

Thanks, chick.