So here it is, the final chapter; utter mixed feelings about this because this little world ended up enrapturing me a little bit. I'm very pleased to have reached the end of this tale, but so sad to say bye-bye to these two.

My first thanks goes to Darkly Tranquil for beta-ing most of this fic. My second thanks goes to every who has reviewed, followed and favourited the fic and come back and read it. I blame you all for causing this fic to explode and become so much more than I ever intended. That said, thank you all for the support and love you have shown this little piece.

Alistair could safely say that over the course of the last nine months he had received a thorough education on matters relating to pregnancy. Having begun Elissa's pregnancy largely ignorant about its effects on a woman, he was now an expert in navigating his way around Elissa's wildly unpredictable moods and physical restrictions. She wasn't unbearable; she just veered violently between moments of absolute serenity and hysterical nervousness that could take a while to soothe. Elissa had never really gotten over the shocking circumstances of Isolde's death in child birth and as the time of her own birthing drew nearer those old fears resurfaced. It pained him that he could not tell her that everything would be alright, because he knew that there was a possibility that things might not be.

Although he made a point of not telling her, fear churned deep in his gut that she would be taken from him. His vow after the death of Isolde not to dwell on what happened was rapidly eroding in the face of his mounting anxiety, but he endured. Elissa needed him to be strong for her and he would not lose himself to his own hysteria. He tried to remember in his darkest moments that he had faced down the Archdemon and won, and if he had managed to hold it together in the days running up to that deadly final battle then he could do it now. But this was different; this was not war, this was his family.

He threw down his pen and leant back in his chair, his work a useless endeavour while his mind was in its current preoccupied state. Everything on his desk could wait for now, the nobility were not fall apart without him there to cater to whatever whims crossed their minds at any given time. The city had started to fill up over the course of Bloomingtide and with the Landsmeet postponed indefinitely until after Elissa had given birth, Alistair knew the reason they were all there was to be close at hand to see what the result of the royal birth would be. He sighed at the thought, not at all enjoying how his private life was currently the equivalent of a public show for all to comment upon.

Giving up on the notion to get any work done he retreated to his inner sanctum with a mind to while away some hours with Elissa. She had retired from public appearances with the birth predicted to be only a few short weeks away, but unlike Isolde, Elissa was not going into a full confinement; her mother had not done so during either of her pregnancies, and Elissa intended to deliver the same way her mother had. To pass the time, she mostly spent her hours knitting or sewing, and if she had the energy she could be found in the gardens. Due to the inclement weather than had lingered over Denerim for the last couple of days, Elissa was relaxing in their private solar. . He heard the soft click of her knitting needles before he pushed the door open.

He entered the room quietly and when she heard the door click shut, Elissa looked up and smiled. It was a surprisingly bright smile considering that she appeared to have been crying. She would have been the picture of serenity were it not for the tell-tale red rings around her eyes. 'I was thinking about my mother and father,' she said as he sat down.

Alistair felt a surge of sympathy for her. 'They would be very proud of you,' he said sincerely.

'I swear you and Fergus take turns to remind me of that,' she said, putting her knitting down. 'It's just, they always wanted me to get married and have children of my own. My mother in particular seemed to be on a never ending quest for more grandchildren.'

He took her hand, because there wasn't really much he could say. Elissa had been brought up in a very loving family; both the remaining Cousland siblings exhibited the hallmarks well-loved children which Alistair knew he had lacked in his youth. Looking at Elissa now, he had no doubt she was going to make a wonderful mother when the time came in a few short weeks.

'I wish she was here, Alistair, to talk to and to ask all these silly questions that keep bubbling up in me,' she continued. 'As wonderful as Solona is, she has never actually had a child of her own and neither has Rhia. I can't really talk to the ladies at court and you,' she said, smiling at him, 'well I can't ask you either.'

Alistair chuckled. 'I am a poor substitute,' he agreed. 'Not least of all because until I had met you, I was certain babies came from the Fade. That's what they teach us in the Chantry, you know.'

'You've said before,' Elissa replied, putting her feet in his lap and looking expectantly at him.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. 'So,' he said, drawing out the word as he relived the tension in her feet. 'Do I get nine months of foot rubs after this?'

'Certainly, if you get pregnant,' she replied, lying back into the cushions. 'Do you ever wonder what it was like for your mother?'

Alistair shrugged. 'I guess I used to wonder,' he said, 'but I don't have any link to her. Eamon has never told me about her and...well, you know about Goldanna and how well that turned out. Meeting her really changed my view on what family was.'

'From what Leliana told me, I'm surprised this half-sister hasn't turned up here wanting more gold,' she said as he shifted a little uncomfortably, adjusting her feet in his lap. 'What?'

'I send her stipend, some gold; it's more for the children,' he said looking away. 'I can't bear the thought of them cooped up with her without anything and it stops her from causing trouble.'

Elissa huffed out a chuckle. 'You are full of surprises, do you know that?'

'You're not… I dunno… going to give me the whole 'she doesn't deserve it' speech?' he asked her cautiously.

'Why would I?' she asked, relaxing back into the cushions as Alistair continued to work on her aching feet, 'it's your decision. You know what she is, and if you are happy to do as you are doing then who am I to argue. Besides, it keeps her off our doorstep.'

'I knew you would see the benefits of such a policy,' he said, quirking a smile at her and feeling a weight lift from his shoulders when she laughed.

Elissa finally went into labour two days before Summersday. She had been restless for days with what Solona had called practice contractions, yet she somehow managed to remain calm while Alistair was moved to all sorts of worry. Most worrying of all was that by his calculations, the labour was a week or so early, but Solona had explained to him that it was not an exact science. The mage had tried to explain how she had calculated it, but he had gotten lost to the point that Solona smiled and just said there was a several week space when the baby could come, and in Elissa's case, she was pretty much on time. Despite protests from his Chamberlain, Alistair left the running of court affairs with Thomas, advising him to seek advice from the two Teyrns, as he would be unavailable until the baby had been born. Several times, he was advised by men of the court not to get involved with the birth as it was a messy process and would put him off his wife for the rest of his life, but he would not hear of it.

When he entered their bedchamber, Elissa was pacing up and down the room with Rhia supporting her when a contraction took hold of her body. She moaned aloud, grabbing onto the armoire for support as Rhia encouraged her with the breathing exercises that Solona had taught her. Alistair watched his wife mimic her maid, her face contorting painfully as she worked through the agonising process that was now going on in her body.

'Shouldn't she be lying on the bed?' Alistair asked Solona, deciding not to intervene until this current wave of pain had faded.

'Absolutely not,' replied the mage, 'it just slows everything down. The birthing with progress much faster if we keep her moving for as long as possible; it stimulates the contractions.'

Alistair gave her a dubious nod, but decided to bow to her greater knowledge on such things all the same. The current wave of contractions over, Elissa looked up and locked her gaze on Alistair, her lips rising into a nervous smile to see him there; it was so like Alistair to cast aside convention to be by her side. 'Alistair,' she said, holding out a hand for him.

Without a word, he went to her, taking over from Rhia who seemed to just melt into the background. He wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling her tremble against him, no doubt already overwhelmed by the exertion. Tenderly, he pushed back a lock of hair and met her gaze. 'It's okay, my love,' he said, kissing her brow, 'everything is going to be okay.'

Elissa nodded, burying her head into his neck. 'I'm scared,' she whispered.

'I know,' he said, rubbing soothing circles on the bottom of her back, 'but I'm not going anywhere.' He drew back from her. 'Solona says you must keep walking to help you and I'm at loath to ignore her…' he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, 'she looks like she could turn me into a frog at any moment. You don't want our baby to have a frog for a father, do you?'

Elissa glanced up at him and, despite the pain and fear she felt, when she saw the lopsided grin she loved so much, she couldn't help but laugh as he took her weight and began to guide her around the room.

Seeing Elissa in so much pain but not being able to help her was complete and utter torment. She was on the bed now, surrounded by sheets, towels and blankets as she struggled to keep going. Solona had declared that the Queen was in the final stages now and that the babe would be born any time now, but Elissa was struggling to hold on through the pain, crying out for it to be over. All Alistair was supposed to do was to keep her calm enough to focus while encouraging her as each contraction consumed her, but even he was struggling. He knew his nerves were starting to fray at the sight of her like this, his mind wheeling around to the fact over and over again that this was his fault, he had done this to her. As time went on, and the minutes seemed to stretch on and on, more pain exploded from her and the tighter she squeezed his hand to the point that she actually managed to hurt him. Elissa was such a petite woman, with small delicate hands, that he had never imagined that she could actually muster enough strength to almost crack his fingers. When she saw him massage his hand with a grimace, Elissa actually managed to chuckle and apologise, asking him if he was okay, which made him laugh in return. It was actually nice to experience this brief moment between them in the midst of this ordeal and it gave him a brief glimmer of hope that his wife would make it through this.

At the other end of the bed, Solona continued to check on Elissa's progress; the Maker only knew what the mage was doing down there, all Alistair knew was he did not want to know. As Elissa took deep breaths after her last contraction, Solona nodded sagely to herself before looking up at Elissa.

'It's time,' she declared, 'with the next contraction, I want you to push downwards, do you understand, Elissa?'

She nodded frantically, adjusting her position as best she could so she could brace herself against the bed while Solona spoke to Alistair.

'Keep her breathing,' explained Solona, 'she can do this; there are no complications so far as I can tell.'

Alistair nodded and squeezed the tops of Elissa's arms. 'You can do this,' he said, stroking her arm and lacing his fingers through hers. 'I've got you,' he said, pressing a kiss to the bottom of her neck.

Elissa squeezed his hand as the next contraction started to build. 'What if I break your fingers?' she asked, glancing down at the entwined fingers.

'Then I'll be terribly impressed that you've broken through all my Grey Warden strength,' he replied jovially. 'Don't worry, my love, do whatever you need.'

Elissa nodded as the pain became unbearable and she steeled herself to do as Solona had instructed. She had wanted to push since she had first gotten on the bed but Solona had forbidden it, telling her that she wasn't ready yet and she would do herself great harm. Terrified of suffering the same fate of Isolde, Elissa had heeded her warning and had done her best not to push despite every nerve in her body telling her otherwise. She had focussed, remembering that Solona was here to see her through the birth to the other end, and that thought had given her the strength to endure. She pushed down as hard as she could, her groan becoming a scream as she felt the child move. She clenched Alistair's hand so hard that she was sure she heard a crack, but she couldn't be sure and she didn't ask him as the contraction faded leaving behind a new sort of pain.

At the end of the bed, Solona nodded. 'Good,' she said, 'and with the next one, push again.'

Another contraction followed swiftly with more pain, each followed by further encouragement to keep going, she was nearly there. It went on in a continuous cycle for what seemed like an eternity with all the voices of encouragement sliding away into nothing as her body took over for one last push; her scream of pain turned to one of relief as her child slipped free of her body.

Exhausted and free of the pain at last, she collapsed back into Alistair, who caught her in his arms kissing every part of her he could reach. She panted heavily from the exertion as a lusty cry of a new born babe filled the room. Elissa turned and nuzzled into his chest, grateful he was there.

'You did it,' he whispered in awe as Solona began cleaning the baby. 'By the Maker, Elissa, you did it.'

She smiled; overwhelmed that she had done it. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she looked up into Alistair's astounded eyes. 'You stayed.'

He wiped the tears from her eyes, uncaring that his eyes also swam with tears. 'Of course I stayed,' he whispered tenderly. He cupped her cheek, gently caressing it as he gazed back at her before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

They were so wrapped up in the sweet moment that neither of them noticed Solona walk around to their side holding the small bundle that had just been crying just moments before. She had not intruded on their intimate moment, but it was now time to introduce them to their baby. 'Alistair, Elissa,' she said softly, 'your son.'

Elissa held out her arms for the small bundle and Solona carefully placed the wrapped Prince in her mother's arms before withdrawing to begin cleaning up now the birth was done. Elissa looked down at the small babe, her eyes glued to the beautiful child in her arms; his muddy brown eyes were wide open and he was gazing avidly back at her. From behind her, Alistair reached over and with infinite gentleness, he stroked his son's cheek with his finger.

'He's beautiful,' said Alistair, his voice catching from all the emotions he currently felt.

Elissa smiled, relaxing back into her husband. 'He is,' she said, her voice awestruck as she enjoyed this perfect moment as she held their child and Alistair held her. For them, it was a true start to a new beginning.

A bright morning dawned over Denerim, the scent of roses wafting on the breeze from the Palace gardens into the solar where Alistair dozed after a hectic night. He stretched, but found he didn't really have the room for his considerable frame as he realised he had fallen asleep on the sofa after the long night with Elissa. He had come out here to give her some time to clean up and get settled after the birthing and had clearly fallen asleep, his own exhaustion getting the better of him now that it was all over. All of the worry and fear seeped from him as he held his wife and son. He remained lying down as he digested the news that made him feel just a little bit giddy; he was a father. He was a father.

He sat up hastily, suddenly filled with the desire to be with the two most precious people in his life again. In their bedchamber, Elissa was seated in the bed, propped up against several cushions with the babe to her breast. She looked clean and refreshed, with her hair hanging in loose waves as she hummed a lullaby under her breath. Never before had he seen her so contented and happy. It was as if the birth of their son had finally exorcised the last of the demons of her past.

She looked up when she heard the door click shut and she smiled widely at him.

'He just woke up,' Elissa said softly.

Alistair walked over to the bed and slid on beside her, carefully wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 'How are you?' he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with his other hand.

Elissa leant into him as much as her current position would allow. 'Tired,' she said with a soft sigh, 'and sore, but mostly tired.' She looked back down at her son. 'I can't believe he's actually here.'

Alistair reached over and stroked the dark tuft of hair on the back of his son's head and smiled to himself. He could scarcely believe it either; a part of him had been so sure that one or both of them would have been taken from him. Perhaps as recompense for allowing Aedan commit his atrocities, but no, they were both whole and fine. Admittedly, Elissa looked pale and tired, but it was to be expected after her the hours of endurance she had been through. How she had managed to keep going as her strength had visibly worn down, he did not know, but he doubted he could have managed it.

'What are we going to call him?' she asked quietly. 'He needs a name.'

They had yet to really settle upon anything, although they had crossed plenty of suggestions off their list of potential names, including Duncan, much to Alistair's chagrin. His Queen had reminded him that it would not be politically prudent to prominently reaffirm his ties to the Grey Wardens by naming their son after his mentor who had the dubious honour of being temporarily blamed for the death of King Cailan. He had reluctantly conceded to her reasoning on the matter and looking at the boy in Elissa's arms, he realised it was time to let go of that little bit of his past and think about the future they currently held. As well as Duncan, they had also crossed off nearly every name from the long line of Theirin Kings and Cousland Teyrns, for which they were both grateful, as neither of them truly wanted to burden their new born son any more than his lineage already would. Many of the names in the list weren't particularly practical in any case and as he scoured his family tree he found himself grateful to have a relatively normal name as oppose to something along the lines of Weylan. To his bemusement, that particular name had come up no less than four times in the direct line. But there was one name that had caught his attention and for the life of him, he could not remember from where it had come from, but the meaning of the name really meant something when he considered his and Elissa's personal circumstance.

Their child was a gift; he had seen it through impossible odds just to be conceived in the first place, much less arrive safely in their arms after Elissa's near fatal attack.

'Eóin?' he suggested quietly.

Elissa turned to look at him, her brow puckered in a small, thoughtful frown. 'A gracious gift from the gods,' she muttered, reciting the name's meaning. She looked at their son who had stopped feeding was now dozing in her embrace. 'Do you think so?'

'Yes,' Alistair replied affectionately as Elissa passed the baby to him. 'He made it through impossible odds to get here.'

Alistair adjusted his positing so that he could hold his son securely. It was only the second time he had held him and he couldn't help but feel bigger and clumsier than usual as he considered the small child compared to him. 'So?' he asked his wife, giving her a lopsided grin.

Elissa cocked her head to the side as she mulled over the name. 'He is a gift,' she mused more to herself than to Alistair as she contemplated the name with their son's title of Prince and his future title of King.

'It's no worse than Weylan,' he reminded her, smirking slightly.

At that reminder, Elissa smiled and laughed. 'It's far better actually,' she replied. 'My mother's great uncle was called Eóin,' she recalled quietly. 'He was killed in battle during the occupation.' She turned her attention back to the moment at hand. 'Eóin Theirin,' she repeated before she nodded her head with a beaming smile. 'Yes.'

'Yes?'

'Most certainly,' she affirmed, moving closer to her family, leaning into Alistair's side to look at Eóin, wondering if she would ever be able to stop looking at him.

Thomas, the Chamberlain of Denerim's Palace cleared his throat to silence the buzz of conversation in the Throne Room. 'His Majesty, the King,' he announced in a resonant voice.

It had not taken long for the news to travel that a Prince had been born in the night and the nobles had gathered to hear the formal announcement from the King. Right up until Thomas had spoken, the Throne Room had been abuzz as the many voices of the Bannorn speculated on every detail, their primary concern being who their future King would be betrothed to, with possibilities of a name ranking a close second in discussion.

The doors swung open and Alistair walked the length of the Throne Room barely noticing his vassals dropping to one knee in deference to him. The past year of his reign had changed many of the opinions that had been floating around after him and he was no longer an untested boy with an upbringing unsuitable to make a King. Many of the people present actually believed that their King was capable of the position bestowed on him despite the unusual circumstances of his ascension. Such was his joviality, he practically bounced up on the dais where the throne sat, but remained standing as the nobility go to their feet.

He looked around at the gathered nobles, a smile twitching on his lips. 'My Lords and Ladies,' he announced, 'it is my great pleasure to announce that Her Majesty, Queen Elissa has given birth to a healthy Prince in the early hours of the morning. The midwives and our court mage have all assured me that both the Queen and your new Prince are doing well following the birth and should be fit to make an appearance in the coming days.'

Amid the storm of applause was a collective sigh of relief; an heir had been born after far too many years of an empty cradle in Denerim Palace. If one counted Alistair's own birth, it had been nearly twenty three years since a child of notable enough Royal blood had been born. With the birth, at this moment, the prospect of another civil war a few years down the line had been averted, particularly with a child of such notable lineage; no one in their right mind would seriously considering challenging the claim of a child born of Theirin and Cousland blood.

Teyrn Cousland stepped forward and went to one knee. 'Might I offer my congratulations to Your Majesties on this momentous occasion,' he called over the din of applause.

Alistair inclined his head to the Teyrn, accepting his thanks before thanking the rest of the nobles ending the brief audience. He motioned for the two Teyrns to follow him. The two men, his most trusted advisors and the nearest thing he had to family, fell into step behind him as they exited the Throne Room to much applause and cheering.

'Well, that should keep them quiet for a while,' Alistair remarked wryly once the doors were shut behind them. He chuckled, shaking his head before beaming widely at the two men with him. 'She did it,' he enthused, 'she's amazing.'

Fergus smiled warmly at his younger brother in law. 'I take it my sister is well.'

Alistair nodded. 'She was sleeping when I left her, the birthing has left her exhausting, as is to be expected and the nurse is with the baby.'

'That is good news,' said Fergus, grinning as he had been worried for his sister, 'even in the best of hands, nothing is ever assured.'

'Indeed it is not,' agreed Teagan sadly. 'But now is not the time to reflect on such things. Alistair, I hope that your child bring you both many years of happiness.'

'Thank you,' Alistair replied. 'Now, if you will both excuse me, I believe I have found myself with other duties to attend to. Fergus, I'll send word when Elissa wakes, I know she wishes to share this with you.'

'Of course,' replied Fergus, 'and I'll be glad to share it with her.'

'Then I shall see you later,' he said with a quick smile before he turned and headed back into the depths of the Palace.

The Queen was sleeping. She looked perfect against the pale pillows and sheets of their bed, her ebony hair had been braided out of the way of her face but for a few locks that had escaped, framing her face. She looked so peaceful and contented as she breathed slowly. Solona had assured Alistair that now the birthing was over, there should be nothing to worry about, but the mage was not going anywhere anyway so should any unexpected problems arise, she would be there to help. Solona had more than earned her place as the court mage and Alistair would never hear of her being returned to the Circle.

His thoughts went back to Elissa, a smile plastered on his face like some grinning idiot – it wasn't a fact too far from the truth right now. He was utterly overwhelmed by everything; the depth and strength of love he currently felt for Elissa had welled within him and no woman would ever be as perfect as she was. Right now, he could not wait until she woke again so that he could share everything he was feeling with her again.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a soft gurgling noise he heard from the cradle. Alistair walked over and peered in, looking down at the small boy who was occupying as much of his heart as his wife was. Never before had he looked at one being and been overwhelmed by so much love and emotion. Again the thought rose that he was a father and he was most determined not to make the mistakes of his own father, who had been a distant figure in the back of his mind. His father was still a source of deeply conflicting emotions in his mind, and Alistair couldn't help but wonder how Maric Theirin had felt when he had learnt of the birth of the bastard boy who now occupied the throne and had provided the heir that would continue the Theirin name.

He shook that train of thought from his mind, not wishing to let the mistakes of his father taint these very special moments with his son. Eóin had kicked off the sheet he had been wrapped in and was still kicking out in a jerky manner with his face screwed up as if he were about to start crying. Hastily, Alistair reached in and wrapped him back up before picking him up, carefully supporting his head.

'Hey, none of that, your mama is having a well-deserved rest,' he said in a hushed, soothing voice as he cuddled the small boy to his chest.

Looking over at the bed, he noted that he hadn't woken Elissa, so he proceeded to sneak out of the bedroom into the adjoining salon. He sat down on their chaise longue and looked down at the small bundle in his arms. Right now, messengers were being sent not just out into the Bannorn, but to the other rulers of Thedas to announce the joyous arrival of child who would continue the Theirin line. To the people of Ferelden, this boy was their next King, but to Alistair he represented that for the first time in his life he really was part of a real family. Thus far his experiences of family had not been the nicest of memories; he bore no real love for his dead parents, although the memory of his mother always moved something within him, and the less said about Goldanna the better.

Alistair was drawn from his thoughts by Eóin's little hand catching hold of his finger. He looked down to see tiny fingers clench his in a surprising display of strength for one so small. He silently vowed there and then that his son, and any other child they had, no matter how unlikely, would never feel as he did until he found Elissa; unloved and unwanted by his family.

Two years ago, when the smoke had cleared and the sun rose over Denerim after the battle with the Archdemon, Alistair had believed it was a new start, but right now, this was the real new start with the brightest horizon he had ever seen. One day, he knew, the storm clouds would gather, in all likelihood they were probably brewing even now, but right now, at this moment, Alistair knew nothing but peace.

N.B. A testament to how much this little story occupied my mind, I'd like to say that you can continue following the story in The Darkened Horizon.