Chapter Text
"We need to talk," Alistair started cautiously. "About us."
Solona turned to smile up at him, but it quickly faded when she saw his serious expression. She nodded and excused herself from the others, following Alistair into a secluded hallway. "Alistair, what is going on?" She blinked her big, green eyes expectantly at him and for whatever reason that made it even harder to face her.
He closed his eyes. "I'm not going to question why you made me King," he started, just the way he had been rehearsing. "I think I'm even starting to come around to the idea. But we have to face what this means for the both of us. I'll be required to produce an heir. Even more so because my death is ensured. I will have to marry a woman...who can..."
The puzzled and almost horrified look on Solona's face proved to Alistair that this trail of thought had not even crossed her mind. "Why...what if we-"
Alistair raked a hand through his hair. "I want you to. Truly, I want that more than anything. But we both know how selfish that would be. I'm not even sure it's possible for two people with the Taint to have a child. Even if we could, what life would that be for a baby. It's death would be as guaranteed as ours. Not to mention the political scandal our marriage would cause, because, well..."
"Because I'm a mage," Solona snapped. Tears began to well in her eyes. "I asked you. I asked if that bothered you."
"It doesn't," Alistair insisted. "Not me, anyhow. It's everyone else with the complaints. You know politically that would be bad for me."
"You're the King, you can do whatever you want," Solona raised her voice.
Alistair also began feeling anger boil up inside of him. Did she honestly not understand how difficult this was for him? "You know that's not true! Do you not understand that I will need to answer to everyone else around me? You and I have both seen what a poisonous place this can be. They could have me dethroned. They could have us murdered! My birth was kept secret because people would have killed me if I posed any threat to Cailan's rule." Aggravated, he ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "Did you forget that you're the one that did this? You put me on that throne!"
"You knew that was my intention before you spent the night with me," Solona reminded him.
Alistair fell over his words. "I know," he finally managed. "I shouldn't have... I love you."
Solona shook her head furiously. "Shut up," she spat. "You're absolutely disgusting. We were close in every possible way, faced every adversity thrown at us and now you're dismissing me."
Her words cut through him and his own tears threatened to fall. "Please don't say it like that. No matter what you think, I love you." He ran a hand along her arm but halted as he felt the swift crack of her hand across his cheek.
"Don't touch me," Solona seethed before storming off.
The rest of the journey to Redcliffe was a quiet one for Alistair. The cold shoulder he had received from the rest of the party was confirmation she had told them. Morrigan had tried to pick at his wounds only once. The threat of violence against her surprised even himself when it had escaped his lips.
Riordan met with them in the evening when they finally reached Redcliffe. He explained the true reason why Grey Wardens are necessary to kill the Archdemon. He explained that it had to be a Warden who had not had the Taint for very long. Solona nodded solemnly. "I understand," she said.
Alistair's eyes narrowed at her. "You understand what, exactly?"
Solona cocked her head and stared at him. "That I have to die. Weren't you paying attention?"
"Why are you assuming it has to be you? I'm fairly new to the order also in case you've forgotten. You know, as King-"
"That's precisely the reason why it can't be you," Solona snapped. "Do you really want Ferelden to be plunged into even more chaos without a proper leader?"
Alistair lowered his eyes to the ground. As sick as it made him feel to admit it, she had a point. "Could we discuss this privately," he asked quietly.
"There's nothing to discuss-"
"I'm not asking you," Alistair began to shout but was able to muster enough restraint to reduce his volume after causing both members of his present company to jump in surprise. He raised his eyes to Riordan. In turn, Riordan nodded and left the two Wardens without a single word. Alistair turned his gaze to Solona, who refused to look at him. Alistair said nothing as he watched her beautiful, green eyes focus on the floor, the wall torch, the tapestry down the hall; really any space that he was not currently inhabiting. It hurt him. It caused a physical pain in his chest, so intense he thought it might buckle him to his knees. Compared to this, death by Archdemon seemed a welcoming thought. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have said those things to you." She didn't reply, so he continued. "You should let Anora be Queen and you should lead the Wardens. Let me do this, please. I can't let you..."
"You're not letting me do anything," Solona snapped. "As I recall, you have not yet been crowned. Therefore, I do not yet serve you. If anything, as the current leader of this mission, I bear authority over you for the time being."
She stepped closer to him, so close, he could once again smell the faint but distinct blend of oils she kept in the vial on her necklace. Alistair remembered toying with it as he held her in his arms in her tent for the first time. She told him how her mother had given it to her and how she managed to smuggle it into the Tower. She always kept it in her pocket, for fear that the Templars would find some reason to take it away from her. As she left the Circle with Duncan, she placed it around her neck and had not removed it since. Up until recently, Alistair had fallen asleep, breathing in that scent every night since that moment. He couldn't lose it again.
Alistair grabbed Solona and kissed her with far more force than he had intended. She did not pull away but she did not reciprocate either. He tried again, gentler this time. Still no reaction. Finally, tears began to trail down his face as he held onto her as tightly as he could, burying his face in her hair. they stayed like this for some time, sniffling occasionally, before Alistair finally moved to face her, red-cheeked and puffy.
Solona hardened her gaze, despite tears staining her cheeks as well. "I spoke with Anora before we left regarding the terms of her release," she murmured.
Alistair knew immediately what this meant. "No," he croaked out softly. "Solana, why?"
"You are expected to produce an heir, remember?" Solana snapped. "As far as politics go, who would be more suitable to guide you?"
"She won't agree to this."
"Then she will remain locked in a dungeon."
Alistair shook his head, staring at Solana incredulously. Who was this woman before him? This certainly wasn't the sweet Circle mage he'd fallen in love with. "And if I should refuse?"
Solana simply replied, "you won't."