No Armor Against Fate (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Worthy of Her

The coronation had gone off without a hitch. Alistair had looked regal and not entirely unhappy as he'd climbed to the dais and been blessed by the Revered Mother. Afterward, he'd called her up next to him to formally thank her for everything she'd done for the kingdom. He'd gifted the Arling of Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens. Thora wasn't sure that was far enough away; she was a bit overwhelmed at the practical details of rebuilding the Grey Wardens while bearing the King's illegitimate child and keeping anyone from finding out about it.

Wondering what had her so distracted, he motioned to the doors at the end of the hall. "I'm told there's quite a gathering out there, awaiting the Hero of Ferelden."

She grimaced.

"Also, there's been a message from the Grey Wardens of Orlais, wondering how it was possible for you to defeat the Archdemon without dying."

"Oh. Huh. Hadn't thought about that."

"Not to worry. I'll just act like I don't know what they're talking about. It's a gift," he said with a smug smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

"So, um ... what are your plans, exactly?" She saw her Alistair peeking out from the King's eyes, and she wished she could tell him something he'd like to hear.

"I'll be leaving very soon," she said crisply.

"Where to? Amaranthine?"

"I'm not sure. Let me give it a little thought. Can I ... talk to you later?"

He nodded. They were all staying at the Arl of Denerim's estate—it was in far better condition than either Arl Eamon's estate or the royal palace. "I'll be in the Arl's study after the banquet, if you'd like to talk then."

"Of course. Until then, Your Majesty." She bowed, her right arm clasped across her chest, ignoring the scowl that crossed his face when she used his title.

At the foot of the dais, she found Arl Eamon, who took the opportunity to thank her from the bottom of his heart for saving his family. He told her Connor had gone to the Circle Tower, and that he and Arlessa Isolde would be staying in Denerim to advise Alistair while Bann Teagan took over at Redcliffe. "It's too bad you'll be leaving, my lady," the Arl said. "I'm sure Alistair could use your counsel as well."

"With respect, my lord," she said quietly, "I think Alistair will do quite well. He's grown used to following; now is his chance to lead."

"There's something to that," said the Arl. "I'll have to keep it in mind."

Some way farther on, she was happily surprised to find Gorim waiting for her. "My lady," he said, bowing to her.

"My dear friend," she said. "I was concerned for you."

"And I for you. But I should have known better. You always seem to land on your feet," he said. "Speaking of which, did you know that we have both been reinstated in our castes and house?"

"Really."

"The Assembly apparently decided they'd better claim the Hero of Ferelden while they could."

"And you've been reinstated along with me?" she asked. "I'm so glad."

Gorim bowed to her. "As I fell with you, apparently I rise with you as well. King Harrowmont has named you the head of House Aeducan, as well."

Thora sighed. "I'm not going back there, Gorim. My life is here on the surface. Do you want to go back? I will happily name you head of House Aeducan in my stead."

"It would be my honor, my lady," he said. "The people are waiting for you." He gestured toward the increasing clamor outside the doors.

"Yes," Thora said. "I suppose I should go and say something." She turned and walked down the hall toward the door, nodding to and clasping the hands of the people she passed on the way.

Gorim felt a presence beside him, and looked up to see the young King of Ferelden standing next to him. "Congratulations, Your Majesty."

"What? Oh, thank you. Gorim, right?" At Gorim's nod, the King went on. "I'm told you've been reinstated in Orzammar, you and Thora." Gorim noticed a faint hesitation before the other man said her name.

"Yes. There's talk of making her a Paragon, as well."

"She's already a Paragon," the King muttered, almost to himself. "Whether the Assembly says so or not."

"It must be difficult to let her go," the dwarf said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was standing near them.

The King glanced at him in surprise, then nodded. "How could you tell?"

"She leaves her mark," said Gorim, with great feeling.

Alistair stared at the dwarf for a moment before his meaning sank in. "You've gone on, though."

"Yes. But I was never worthy of her. And she never loved me. It's clear you can't say the same."

"What makes you think so?" Alistair asked. It was a surprising relief to talk to someone who knew what it was like to lose her.

"I know her," Gorim said simply. "I was at her side day and night for 10 years."

"10 years." There was great longing in the King's voice. "What I wouldn't give for 10 years."

"If I may, Your Majesty ... there is happiness to be found. You have to put ... her ... away."

"Easier said than done," Alistair remarked bitterly.

"It is." Gorim remembered long nights outside her door, standing his self-imposed guard, wishing just once the door would open to him. "But she does not give her trust—or her love—to people who don't have that strength." He was silent for a moment, then said, "She does everything before her to the best of her ability. Can we do less?" He looked sidewise at the King, whose face seemed somehow stronger than it had before.

"Thank you, Gorim," Alistair said softly. "If there is anything you should ever need, you may call on me."

"Your Majesty." Gorim bowed. He thought for the first time how glad he was that she had never loved him—how much easier it was to give her up when you'd never had her. As he watched the King move slowly through the room, his sadness disappearing beneath a mask, Gorim could see in the tall human what she must see, and was glad that, even for a brief time, she had found someone worthy of her.