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The nobles of Ferelden filled the hall. The commoners filled the courtyard outside. All to catch a glimpse of the Hero of Ferelden.
Her.
Sereda Aeducan. Former princess of Orzammar. Now surfacer exile standing in a crowd of humans as the joyous celebration rang through the broken city. Those who remained had survived the Blight. She has saved them.
Scattered through the crowd were her allies that remained. Leliana, in a hint of her former life, was seamlessly socialising with the nobles. Oghren, true to form, had found the drinks. Her faithful hound had been confined to the kennels and not allowed at the celebrations. Her closest friend and ally on the surface, Morrigan, had abandoned the cause as they readied for the final battle. That only left one.
Him.
Standing tall on the dais, his new bride at his side, stood Alistair Theirin. King of Ferelden.
And he hated her. No, not hated. Despised.
It was not because of the marriage she bargained for him. That had been a simple deal. She explained that marriage was for alliances not love. He had grown, no longer the naive boy, and he understood the implications and accepted.
No, she betrayed him by taking his sworn enemy into the order that Alistair held above everything.
And in doing so she stopped the Blight.
“Is there any boon you might request of Ferelden?” Anora asked in front of the gathered crowd.
“I only ask that my people be aided against the darkspawn.”
As Sereda answered she kept her gaze firmly on Anora. They had made a deal. Anora got the crown, Sereda got Alistair. But in the end the Queen had won both.
Throughout the official ceremony he remained silent, avoiding her eyes, yet after he sought Sereda out in private.
“You did what you had to. I do not forgive you but I understand.”
Everything they had faced together and that was all he had to say.
In the darkest year of her life Alistair had been a bright light. His ridiculous humour, the silly jokes, laughter and friendship grown around the campfire. He was the first human who made her feel welcome on the surface. He never treated her as an exile but as a comrade.
There had been moments of joy and moments of heartbreak. He had comforted her when they reached Denerim and she was faced with Gorim’s new life. As the group sat around the tavern as she drank away her sorrows, Alistair had been the one to just sit with her, simply holding her hand as the others failed to cheer her.
“If you have such needs, one man is as good as another. Even Alistair would suffice.” Morrigan’s words had been in jest and at the time Sereda dismissed the suggestion. Yet time made fools of them all and somewhere along the journey friendship turned to love.
She fell in love with the boy and now she left behind the man.
She turned away. Towards Orzammar.