You are crying.
You haven't cried in so long, not since Duncan dragged you kicking and screaming from the burning castle where your family lays dead. Since then, you have been the strong one, the leader of a rag-tag group tied together by nothing more than a desire to live. Everyone depends on you, and you know you can't let them down.
You have done amazing things. You've fought demons and kings, dragons and witches. You've watched a mother sacrifice herself for her child, watched beasts become men, watched a circle reform and watched a good man die out of the love he has for his country.
But tonight, you cry. All these things you have suffered, and tonight you cry over a stupid boy.
Pull yourself together, you think. After all, you wanted this. You approved of this. You looked him dead in the eyes and told him to do this, told him to do it for both of your sakes. You wonder when you became so selfish, where the woman who gave her last copper piece to help a lady out of Redcliff went and what caused this selfish creature to take her place.
Alistair happened, you know. You think about him, and you cry harder. After what Howe did you didn't care about anything, didn't care if you died. You helped people because no one should feel as dead inside as you felt those days after your family died. You helped them because you knew it was right and you didn't care about yourself anymore.
Instead, you started caring about them. You started caring about the assassin. You started caring about the Quanari. You stared caring about the bard, the golem, the dog, the old woman. Before tonight, you even cared about Morrigan.
Mostly, you care about Alistair.
You never thought you would care. Back home, before you lost everything, Mother tried to get you to marry and you refused. But then Alistair came, and he became your everything. Even when you had nothing else in the world, you had Alistair at your back, and that meant something. That meant everything. You can't imagine where you would be without his laughter, his jokes, his charm and his smiles.
You can't picture your future without him. You know if he dies tomorrow, you die too. So you take the advice of the witch you thought was your friend, and convince the man you want to spend the rest of your life with to sleep with another woman.
You know Alistair hates Morrigan, and you know he is a good man, a man of honor who would not do such awful things to you, except you insisted. You wonder if he is enjoying himself. You wonder if Morrigan is any good in bed, if the spider has him so seduced in her web that he isn't even thinking about you. You look at your scar-laced hands and wonder if he will ever want you again, now that he has had someone as beautiful as Morrigan. You try not to be jealous, but you cannot help it. Tonight, the man you love lies with another woman, and conceives a child that will never be yours, in order for you and Alistair to even have a future.
You wonder when the future began to matter. You wonder when it became important that you and Alistair live past tomorrow. You wouldn't be doing this unless it did.
You know you shouldn't love him. He is a King, and you are the daughter of a dead Teryn who has nothing. How things have changed for the two of you—before you lost everything, you were the important noble while Alistair was the bastard whose only purpose was to serve the Wardens who took him in. Now, he is King and you are nothing, nothing but a Grey Warden who sits and cries on her bed while her lover lies with another.
You didn't expect to love him. Alistair is odd and funny and kind and brave and yes, you love him, have loved him since he gave you that rose and said you were beautiful, in that awkward and glowing way that puts butterflies in your stomach every time you look at him.
The fire has died in your room, and you are still crying. Now you cry over stupid things, like the fact that you may never have kids, or that Duncan died before you really got to know him, or that Fergus may be dead, or that your once beautiful lady-hands now hold scars that would honor any warrior. You cry because you know wherever he is, your father is proud of you. You cry because despite Morrigan's demon-child, you still might die tomorrow. You might die, and you will never grow old with Alistair. You will never get married in your mother's old wedding dress, and your belly will never grow with child.
You still wonder when you became so selfish, to sacrifice an unborn child for your own happiness.
In the darkest hours of the night, your door opens. It is Alistair, wearing nothing more than his underwear. The sight would be funny if his expression wasn't so serious.
You are still crying.
He doesn't say anything, and when you try to speak he stops you. Instead, he falls into bed next to you, and wraps his arms around you. You cry into his naked chest, and he holds you, and you know in that moment that he loves you still, because he wouldn't have come back if he didn't. You cry even now, though your tears are happy ones at last.
When you finally begin to sleep, he whispers into your hair. "You are my everything."
You smile because you know you feel the same.
A/N: Dragon Age, why can't I quit you? . This was just a quick one-shot. Don't worry, Spirit will be updated tomorrow night, hopefully.