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They were to meet in the shadowy depths of the Korcari Wilds, Alistair's bodyguards who had followed him to the hunt long left behind in a wild chase after an impressive hart. He slowed down and let the stag go on its way when he was certain his men had lost him, steering his mare down a foggy path that led deeper into the forest.
She waited for him next to a stream, her dark figure obvious from afar even in the misty woods. She wore her old Chasind garbs, a fine dark cloak around her shoulders the only indication that she was the Empress' advisor, its high collar decorated with gold-tipped feathers.
"My men think me insane for organizing hunts so close to the Wilds," Alistair said by way of greeting as he got off his horse, boots hitting the ground with a low thump in the soft leaf mould.
"I'm sure they have a lot to fear here," she said.
Alistair let the reins drop, distracted, and walked up to her. Her yellow eyes tracked his every movement but she stood still, not backing away even when he drew too close.
"It's been a while, Morrigan."
"Indeed. You weren't followed, I hope?"
"Am I ever?" he asked with a small smile and leaned in, kissing her.
She was startled for a moment before relaxing into the kiss, one of her hands lifting to his face.
It had started with an unsigned letter delivered straight into his chambers, a curt assurance that the child was an ordinary human (and also a boy, if he cared about such things), along with a post-script that they'd be in Denerim for a single night. They had planned to meet only once, just so Alistair could put that uneasy feeling behind him, but watching the bundled up infant in his arms, quiet and wide-eyed and so normal, had made the apprehension slowly bleed out of him. He hadn't expected the meetings he had insisted on after that to slowly turn into something more.
As they broke apart, Alistair sighed.
"We should do this more often."
"Things were chaotic in Orlais for a while," Morrigan said. "I couldn't hazard taking Kieran on a long journey without drawing the wrong kind of attention. They'd accuse me of betraying state secrets to Ferelden if they discovered us."
"Where is he?"
"Hidden back at camp. My magic protects him."
Their meetings had grown less frequent once Morrigan had moved to the Orlesian court, the risk of discovery simply too high. Official visits to Orlais had been barely enough to tide him over, much less with the hundreds of eyes at court following their every move.
Every once in a while, a letter had arrived to the Denerim palace, the dark wax seal a simple circle with a feather in the middle, and he had left his window open for the night, waiting for a crow to land on his windowsill. Those nights she had come alone, the privacy of the King's chambers as good a hiding place for them as any.
"I had a need to see you."
He frowned. He'd have made a teasing comment about that normally but Morrigan looked troubled, an air of worry about her.
"Is something the matter?"
"We shall be leaving Orlais soon. For good."
She stepped out of his reach and turned away, slowly walking deeper into the forest. Alistair took hold of his horse's reins and followed her, a million questions in his mind. She hadn't mentioned her plans in her letters.
"Did something happen to prompt this?" he asked behind her. She had carved out a place for herself in Orlais, climbing the social ladder faster than he ever thought possible, getting better at the stupid Game each day. Something disastrous must have happened for her to leave all that work behind. "Is it about Kieran? You know I never liked that he's in Orlais."
It was something he had only brought up once, when he had still believed he could convince her. If even one person at the Orlesian court learned he was Kieran's father, they wouldn't have hesitated to use his son's life as a leverage against him. He knew it would have had worked too, attached as he now was.
"You won't have to worry about that anymore," Morrigan said, her tone colored by a sneer. "Although you may not see us again."
"What?"
Alistair ground to a halt, his horse gently tugging on her reins before coming to a stop next to him as well.
"Mother found us," Morrigan said as she looked back at him, "when I was working with the Inquisitor."
"But I killed your mother," he said, wincing at how callow he sounded.
She snorted.
"Death can only delay her, it seems. I should have known better but her absence lulled me into complacency. 'Twas foolish of me to expect this peace to last." She turned to him, her face impassive yet her eyes betrayed more emotion than she normally allowed herself. "She carries the soul of Mythal in her. She is not only immortal, she is a god."
The forest seemed to grow colder around them, the mist crawling down Alistair's throat, making it hard to breathe.
Morrigan had never once mentioned that she had met Flemeth, much less that she and Kieran had been in danger. What had happened in Skyhold? They had exchanged letters before his arrival at the castle, agreeing to avoid being seen together. He had spotted her once, far across the courtyard, and longed to go to her, but the fear of Leliana or someone else figuring out his connection to Kieran had stopped him in his tracks. He could have lost both of them just because he had been too careful.
"So you're leaving Orlais to do what exactly?" he asked. "Hide from her? Track her down and kill her yourself?"
"I am... undecided." She drew a deep breath. "She took the Old God soul from Kieran."
Alistair's heart stopped for a moment.
"Is he—?"
"Unharmed, yes. I would have told you sooner if that wasn't the case." The sudden pressure in Alistair's chest eased somewhat but Morrigan still looked agitated, her cloak fluttering around her like dark wings as she slowly started pacing across the rocky edge of the stream. "I cannot help but wonder how long mother has planned this. If she truly is Mythal, she must have wanted Urthemiel's soul for longer than I've been alive. When she sent me with you during the Blight, when she instructed me to conceive a child with you, 'twas all because she wanted that soul. I only exist because she wanted that soul." She looked at him, anger flashing in her eyes. "Me and Kieran are truly just pawns to her, pieces on a board she can arrange however it suits her plans."
It was an old hurt neither he nor Kieran could seem to heal that kept coming back to haunt her. Every time she thought she had finally put her mother's influence behind her, it sprang back up in their lives like a weed, insidious and impossible to kill. Flemeth had never threatened them so blatantly before though, and his own powerlessness to prevent it made Alistair's blood boil. What did his crown matter if he couldn't even use it to protect them? He needed to stop being so damn careful.
"Come to Denerim," he found himself say, voice low. "Kieran would be safer there, with people keeping an eye on him, and you'd have the freedom to continue your research and deal with Flemeth as you will. If someone demands to know why you're in the palace, we can say you're my Arcane Advisor. I have no idea what the title covers but I'm sure I need one of those." Her lips twitched, barely noticeable. "We'll keep Kieran's identity a secret if you want but... I was serious about recognizing him as my heir, you know."
"I'm not going to make that decision for him, Alistair. You were forced to accept the throne so you must know what it feels like to lose control of your own destiny and have your choices overruled by someone else. Kieran shall grow into a young man in a few short years—if he decides he wants the throne, I'm not going to stand in his way but I'm not going to push him to follow in your footsteps either. You should know this by now."
He huffed. He knew this would be an eternal point of contention between them but he guessed it was fair to Kieran; a much better deal than what Alistair himself had got, anyway.
"What about moving to Denerim?" he asked.
"My answer is... not a no. 'Tis as good a place as any so I've been considering it as an option." She ambled up to him, making her way across the slippery rocks with an easy grace that secretly impressed him. "The hapless King of Ferelden needs all the help he can get, after all."
A smile tugged at his lips and he reached out to pull her closer, voice teasing.
"I'll anxiously await your arrival at court."
"Such an honor," she said dryly.
He leaned in to kiss her, his lips brushing softly against hers. Then she bit him.
"Ow! What was that for?"
She gave him a flat look.
"You looked entirely too pleased for getting what you wanted. 'Twas imperative that I wipe that look from your face."
"You're a terrible woman," he said with an incredulous shake of his head and went back to kissing her.
He could feel Morrigan smiling into the kiss, self-satisfied as one could be. He hummed deep in his throat when she ran her hand up the back of his head, lingering, before she broke the kiss.
"We must go."
"Five more minutes," he muttered, distracted.
"What would your men say if they found their king kissing an apostate in the middle of the forest? Worse, one currently allied with Orlais?"
"'Nicely done, Your Majesty?'" She rolled her eyes, making Alistair laugh. "They're too afraid of the Wilds. They won't search for me here unless I'm still missing by the time the hunt ends."
"Which is why we need to make haste. My camp is still a ways off." She took his larger hand into her own, walking backwards as she pulled him deeper into the woods. "Come, Kieran is waiting."