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When I awoke again, Sten was gone. I felt a combination of disappointment and relief. The emotions he had stirred in me needed to be examined and I knew I would not be able to do that in his presence and the road ahead of us also did not afford much by way of time.

There was a certainty within me: I wanted to have him by my side in the time I had left. We would never have what we had that night again, but it did not diminish my desire to be in his presence.

I was prepared to die. It was down to Riordan and myself. Alistair had to survive. Though he lacked in self-confidence, he had the potential to be a good king. He would put the needs of Ferelden first. If I had never loved Alistair I doubt I would have seen the depth of his potential and the quality of his heart. My depth of feeling for him only made the decision easier.

It was my feelings for Sten that gave me pause. How I felt for him was not minimalized by my previous feelings for Alistair. If anything what I felt for Sten was richer. He was not my first love, but I knew that Sten was my last love. It simultaneously broke my heart and filled me with determination to see my purpose to the end. If I failed I would not be worthy of him.

A light knocking on my door broke me from my reverie and I called, "One moment, please." I found a light robe that had been provided for me in a chest by the bed and put it on before answering the door.

Alistair stood in the hall, looking very uncomfortable. For a moment he seemed unsure of where to look before gazing into my eyes. The emotion inherent in his face was a jumbled wash of things I found hard to read, though he was obviously distressed.

"Alistair, come in. Are you well? You look ill." I ushered him in and encouraged him to sit on a chair near the door. "I know that what Riordan told us last night was difficult to hear. Riordan knows what he is doing and if he should fail then I will be able to take up the mantle. Please be at ease."

"Elissa…please stop. I have ensured that will not be necessary."

Those words caused me to stop short in confusion, "What?"

He sighed and ran a weary hand over his face, pausing to massage the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Last night…Morrigan came to my room."

I felt like I wanted to choke. When Morrigan had left the previous night she had been so angry that I doubted she would come back. It had troubled me, but I had let her go thinking that it was for the best, that I had made the best decision.

"Alistair…are you saying…?" The words would not come. How do you ask your former lover if he had slept with another woman? I had been fine with the thought of him marrying and making a political alliance, I had resigned myself to it. The thought of him sleeping with Morrigan for the purpose of having a child in a fertility rite made my blood run cold.

"Elissa…" he paused, seeming to bolster himself before continuing, "…it is done."

A pit formed in my stomach, it was like fire was exploding behind my eyes, my face flushed, I saw everything in a tinge of red. Once Oghren had described to me what it was like for a berserker to go into a frenzy and this moment seemed a close approximation to what I recalled of the description. I bit my tongue, let the salty taste of blood fill my mouth in order to hold back the words that threatened to rush forth. Pacing, digging my nails into the palm of my hand, I could feel my shoulders tighten and my gut begin to tremble. Unable to withstand the sudden onslaught of emotions, I finally exploded, "WHY? Why would you even consider doing such a hideous thing? It goes against everything…you hate her…" My heart was galloping in my chest like a frightened horse escaping a fire and I was desperately trying to regain control of the reins.

For a moment, it seemed like Alistair began to cringe and then something broke in his eyes. He glared up at me, "It does not matter if I hate her. It does not matter if I detest her. It does not matter if it feels like I will never be clean again after having touched her. None of it matters because it does not equal or eclipse how much I love you! How dare you speak to me like this! How dare you play holier than thou!"

"You had no right!" I yelled at him, "I had decided. I was prepared. It was not meant to happen this way. You had no right!"

With that he leapt to his feet and squared off with me, nose to nose, "I had no right? Who were you to decide this? It was my decision! Did it even occur to you when you and Morrigan discussed the rite that I might have a say? Who were you to decide who makes the sacrifice? Who were you to say who I did or did not sleep with? Who said you get to play hero and I have to stand there helplessly and watch you die? What makes that right and what I did wrong?"

Not thinking, I swung at him and he caught me by the wrist before I could make contact but it was awkward and I slammed into him with my shoulder instead. My violent momentum forward knocked both of us to the floor in a gasping, thrashing heap. I struggled to squirm away from him, but he was faster, gripping me by the shoulders, wrapping a leg around my lower body to pin me to the floor while I struggled against him.

"BASTARD!" I shrieked, my insides felt shredded and I could not stop.

"That's right!" He gritted out into my hair, "I was always a bastard! Now I am a royal bastard who is going to sit on a throne and wear a crown. I am entitled to hard choices too. I have decided you are going to live. Hate me if you must but, damn it, you will be alive to do so and I can live with that. That is far more acceptable to me than you dying senselessly."

I began to sob at that point, spent. I could live with the thought of dying. The thought of living instead completely sapped my rage and my strength. Sensing the sagging of my body, Alistair slowly released me and lay back on the floor, panting. The sounds of my crying became stuttering gasps when he finally sat up and pulled me into his lap, stroking my hair, holding me close to his chest and letting me weep myself dry.

"You took my desire to live," I sobbed into him, "and just when I made peace with it, feeling that I could move on in a way that allowed me some semblance of honor, finally…" a hiccupping choke cut me off and I found I was unable to continue.

He continued to hold me, trying to be comforting. I am not sure how long we were there with me sprawled across his lap until the last of the tears subsided. It should have been awkward, it should have felt somehow wrong for the two of us to be this close, but I was too numb to care.

Alistair finally looked over my head to the hearth a few feet away and noticed the armor neatly arranged, "That is Sten's armor by the fireplace along with yours…"

Part of me froze when I heard the words and I silently prayed, "Oh Maker, what will he think of this?"

"Yes," I stated with as little emotion as possible. I considered pointing out that I owed him no explanations, but after my recent outburst that would sound both hypocritical and hollow.

"He was here last night…" Alistair was slowly letting the pieces fall together; the clicking as each joined was almost auditory, "You and he…"

He stood abruptly causing me to roll from his lap onto the floor. When he approached the armor, he gently picked up one of Sten's large gauntlets and looking at it as one studies a tome or a complex puzzle. He lifted his eyes again to mine and his face looked ashen and there was something dark in his eyes that would have made me shudder if I had not been so emotionally exhausted.

At that moment Sten entered the room, speaking as he walked, "Kadan, I had a fraying strap replaced by the tanner. Also, there is much we should discuss before it becomes much later…" on seeing Alistair, Sten stopped in the doorway.

The gauntlet fell to the floor with a clatter and Alistair said very solemnly and quietly in a tone I had never heard him use before, "Draw your weapon, qunari."

"I beg your pardon, Warden?" Sten queried.

"Your weapon, draw it." Alistair spat, stalking forward and stopping directly in front of Sten, "Once you stated that you wanted to see what I could do. Now you shall have your wish, though it is slightly delayed. Meet me in the main courtyard prepared with a weapon. By the Maker, this will be settled before we ride to Denerim!" With that, Alistair marched from the room without a second look back.

Sten gently approached his armor where it lay by the fireplace and, after gently placing my breastplate with my other pieces of armor, he picked up the gauntlet. "It appears I have been challenged."

"I had not intended for this to happen," I whispered.

"Nor I, Kadan," he said hollowly, "nor I."

Description
When I awoke again, Sten was gone. I felt a combination of disappointment and relief. The emotions he had stirred in me needed to be examined and I knew I would not be able to do that in his presence and the road ahead of us also did not afford much by way of time.

There was a certainty within me: I wanted to have him by my side in the time I had left. We would never have what we had that night again, but it did not diminish my desire to be in his presence.

I was prepared to die. It was down to Riordan and myself. Alistair had to survive. Though he lacked in self-confidence, he had the potential to be a good king. He would put the needs of Ferelden first. If I had never loved Alistair I doubt I would have seen the depth of his potential and the quality of his heart. My depth of feeling for him only made the decision easier.

It was my feelings for Sten that gave me pause. How I felt for him was not minimalized by my previous feelings for Alistair. If anything what I felt for Sten was richer. He was not my first love, but I knew that Sten was my last love. It simultaneously broke my heart and filled me with determination to see my purpose to the end. If I failed I would not be worthy of him.

A light knocking on my door broke me from my reverie and I called, "One moment, please." I found a light robe that had been provided for me in a chest by the bed and put it on before answering the door.

Alistair stood in the hall, looking very uncomfortable. For a moment he seemed unsure of where to look before gazing into my eyes. The emotion inherent in his face was a jumbled wash of things I found hard to read, though he was obviously distressed.

"Alistair, come in. Are you well? You look ill." I ushered him in and encouraged him to sit on a chair near the door. "I know that what Riordan told us last night was difficult to hear. Riordan knows what he is doing and if he should fail then I will be able to take up the mantle. Please be at ease."

"Elissa…please stop. I have ensured that will not be necessary."

Those words caused me to stop short in confusion, "What?"

He sighed and ran a weary hand over his face, pausing to massage the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Last night…Morrigan came to my room."

I felt like I wanted to choke. When Morrigan had left the previous night she had been so angry that I doubted she would come back. It had troubled me, but I had let her go thinking that it was for the best, that I had made the best decision.

"Alistair…are you saying…?" The words would not come. How do you ask your former lover if he had slept with another woman? I had been fine with the thought of him marrying and making a political alliance, I had resigned myself to it. The thought of him sleeping with Morrigan for the purpose of having a child in a fertility rite made my blood run cold.

"Elissa…" he paused, seeming to bolster himself before continuing, "…it is done."

A pit formed in my stomach, it was like fire was exploding behind my eyes, my face flushed, I saw everything in a tinge of red. Once Oghren had described to me what it was like for a berserker to go into a frenzy and this moment seemed a close approximation to what I recalled of the description. I bit my tongue, let the salty taste of blood fill my mouth in order to hold back the words that threatened to rush forth. Pacing, digging my nails into the palm of my hand, I could feel my shoulders tighten and my gut begin to tremble. Unable to withstand the sudden onslaught of emotions, I finally exploded, "WHY? Why would you even consider doing such a hideous thing? It goes against everything…you hate her…" My heart was galloping in my chest like a frightened horse escaping a fire and I was desperately trying to regain control of the reins.

For a moment, it seemed like Alistair began to cringe and then something broke in his eyes. He glared up at me, "It does not matter if I hate her. It does not matter if I detest her. It does not matter if it feels like I will never be clean again after having touched her. None of it matters because it does not equal or eclipse how much I love you! How dare you speak to me like this! How dare you play holier than thou!"

"You had no right!" I yelled at him, "I had decided. I was prepared. It was not meant to happen this way. You had no right!"

With that he leapt to his feet and squared off with me, nose to nose, "I had no right? Who were you to decide this? It was my decision! Did it even occur to you when you and Morrigan discussed the rite that I might have a say? Who were you to decide who makes the sacrifice? Who were you to say who I did or did not sleep with? Who said you get to play hero and I have to stand there helplessly and watch you die? What makes that right and what I did wrong?"

Not thinking, I swung at him and he caught me by the wrist before I could make contact but it was awkward and I slammed into him with my shoulder instead. My violent momentum forward knocked both of us to the floor in a gasping, thrashing heap. I struggled to squirm away from him, but he was faster, gripping me by the shoulders, wrapping a leg around my lower body to pin me to the floor while I struggled against him.

"BASTARD!" I shrieked, my insides felt shredded and I could not stop.

"That's right!" He gritted out into my hair, "I was always a bastard! Now I am a royal bastard who is going to sit on a throne and wear a crown. I am entitled to hard choices too. I have decided you are going to live. Hate me if you must but, damn it, you will be alive to do so and I can live with that. That is far more acceptable to me than you dying senselessly."

I began to sob at that point, spent. I could live with the thought of dying. The thought of living instead completely sapped my rage and my strength. Sensing the sagging of my body, Alistair slowly released me and lay back on the floor, panting. The sounds of my crying became stuttering gasps when he finally sat up and pulled me into his lap, stroking my hair, holding me close to his chest and letting me weep myself dry.

"You took my desire to live," I sobbed into him, "and just when I made peace with it, feeling that I could move on in a way that allowed me some semblance of honor, finally…" a hiccupping choke cut me off and I found I was unable to continue.

He continued to hold me, trying to be comforting. I am not sure how long we were there with me sprawled across his lap until the last of the tears subsided. It should have been awkward, it should have felt somehow wrong for the two of us to be this close, but I was too numb to care.

Alistair finally looked over my head to the hearth a few feet away and noticed the armor neatly arranged, "That is Sten's armor by the fireplace along with yours…"

Part of me froze when I heard the words and I silently prayed, "Oh Maker, what will he think of this?"

"Yes," I stated with as little emotion as possible. I considered pointing out that I owed him no explanations, but after my recent outburst that would sound both hypocritical and hollow.

"He was here last night…" Alistair was slowly letting the pieces fall together; the clicking as each joined was almost auditory, "You and he…"

He stood abruptly causing me to roll from his lap onto the floor. When he approached the armor, he gently picked up one of Sten's large gauntlets and looking at it as one studies a tome or a complex puzzle. He lifted his eyes again to mine and his face looked ashen and there was something dark in his eyes that would have made me shudder if I had not been so emotionally exhausted.

At that moment Sten entered the room, speaking as he walked, "Kadan, I had a fraying strap replaced by the tanner. Also, there is much we should discuss before it becomes much later…" on seeing Alistair, Sten stopped in the doorway.

The gauntlet fell to the floor with a clatter and Alistair said very solemnly and quietly in a tone I had never heard him use before, "Draw your weapon, qunari."

"I beg your pardon, Warden?" Sten queried.

"Your weapon, draw it." Alistair spat, stalking forward and stopping directly in front of Sten, "Once you stated that you wanted to see what I could do. Now you shall have your wish, though it is slightly delayed. Meet me in the main courtyard prepared with a weapon. By the Maker, this will be settled before we ride to Denerim!" With that, Alistair marched from the room without a second look back.

Sten gently approached his armor where it lay by the fireplace and, after gently placing my breastplate with my other pieces of armor, he picked up the gauntlet. "It appears I have been challenged."

"I had not intended for this to happen," I whispered.

"Nor I, Kadan," he said hollowly, "nor I."