You may have noticed that that main character's name has changed. If someone would beta me that would be smashing.

Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally stumbles upon something fortunate, especially while looking for something entirely unrelated.

"She says people ought to learn to live like them, with the body abandoned in a wilderness, and in the mind the memory of a single kiss, a single word, a single look to stand for a whole love."
-Marguerite Duras

A Little Fairy Tale

After Ostagar, the numbness was better than the feeling of wrenching and tearing at her heart as Duncan was forced to drag her from the abattoir that was once home. Alistair's grief was easier to watch; the impact creeping through him, the realized horror in his voice, the way nightmares left purple shadows under his eyes, the bitter retelling of men that never became the heroes they were groomed to be.

After, wandering through a doomed town she finds herself coaxing him into letting her help him bear the loss. She realized that he was then a new brother of an order with only a footnote in history. It brought her up short, like the hand on her shoulder giving her strength to walk into a damned tower, full of living nightmares.

He acted strange alternating between fidgety, tight lipped fear and quiet tremors when they wended their way toward Redcliffe, she paused long enough to ask him why. The answer should have surprised her, instead she felt like it was all a bizarre fairytale. This is just like a fool driven adventure story!

Persia watched the light play across his face from the nearby fire. She thinks, he isn't wild or rough, his charm lies in the fact that he is soft even with all of his training, the studied way of his with sword and shield. More than anything he is brave and kind. She loved him then, just a little bit, but the volition had already taken hold. He will be king. The serendipity of the whole situation is far too coincidental for anything other than the uncanny hand of fate.

She had taken the swamp witch into her confidences long before this and when she finally confesses that she is a little in love with the almost templar, Morrigan laughs. Admitting that rather than do the enchanted things of lovers' past; she plans to throw her heart down the cliffs of destiny and make him the king he was always supposed to be, she doesn't laugh. Which comes as a surprise. Instead Morrigan looks at her and nods, sighing the long sound of those accustomed to the whims of a power beyond them.

After Eamon wakes up from his fade clouded death-sleep, he knows. She doesn't know how he knows, but he pulls her aside and she divulges her plans, the smile on his face brilliant.

The deep roads scare everyone. When they make camp they are drawn close together. They all stand within the light of the same campfire, listening to the echoes of the dead myths Leliana whispers so the sound doesn't echo off the rocks encircling them.

Goldanna is rough and sharp-tongued, embittered by years of labor. She turns Alistair away and when he turns to her, she tells him the truth he will have to learn as king. It is like this... Always, everyone really is out for themselves. His face contorts once, a terrible fact. He still manages a smile for her.

The Dalish are angry and sad, humming with gods trapped between the dark, twisted souls of old and the Maker, Andraste. Zevran tries not to scoff at them. Oghren laughs at them, mocking their strange words. Alistair tries to speak with them, to understand.

When the time comes to promise everything, she simply doesn't promise Cailan's widow anything. Choosing to announce Alistair's birthright as king before the Landsmeet of Ferelden. It was a solemn affair until that moment, then it all went very fast. Eamon at the head and heels of every decision.

He is very angry, but not for long because even he knows what must be done. What choice did they really have? You can't call for a Teyrn's blood and bow out of a kingship when you are the only one left.

She thinks their undoing will be the final battle when Riordan tells them that one must end to finish it. It is not a king's duty, so it must fall to her or Riordan. Like all good tales there is a loophole and Morrigan finds her crying, fear snaking through her,"Do this one selfish thing, for you."

And so, she goes to the king to be and begs him. He must love her a little still because he does it. When she is weak, all of them unbearably tired, coughing up blood, and bracing broken ribs she gives the final blow. The soul of a god slipping up through her, she collapses.

When she wakes up it isn't in the fade, it is alive to watch him become the king. He takes the crown graciously, smiles to his subjects and as the cheers go up, she stumbles out into the impossibly bright world, to a ship headed down the Waking Sea.

Somewhere along the way she had tripped over her plans as he softly pressed the rose into her hands. Soon he was the warmth in her tent and her heart, it happened as if it was always supposed to and she feels cheated of an impossibly bright future.