Prompt: First MeetingAlistair wasn't much of a drinker, sure he shared pints with the rest of the Wardens in the short time he spent amidst their number, but now he felt like nothing short of a swig of Ohgren's not-so-secret stash could remove the crushing sensation of dread in his chest.
The thoughts and dreams - nay, nightmares that haunted him since entering the Chantry was the idea that at any moment he could be drafted into service of Ferelden as King, of all things. With Duncan's arrival and his induction into The Grey Wardens he finally felt free of any kind of blood-borne obligation to the throne.
Now his Father was long lost to the sea, his Half-Brother dead at the hands of the Darkspawn, and now his bestfriend suddenly has become his worst enemy shoving into the line of fire. Instead of staring down the hideous horned maw of the Archdemon a new challenge presented itself in the form of golden locks framing the ice blue eyes of Queen Anora.
His betrothed.
She had summoned him shortly after Eamon and the wily Cousland had finished discussing his sentence as King of the Blight-ravaged nation. Between the two Nobles the Archdemon's defeat was all but a formality as they bantered back and forth as if he was some practice dummy modelling Sophia Dryden's still musty yet functional armor.
Alistair found his tongue felt heavy in his head as her Blue eyes probed his own for a quiet minute. He had no words - not even a clumsy attempt at self deprecation, rather he stood there wishing he had at least brought his shield with him.
"So", was all she said, the syllable simply hung in the air.
"Yeah", was his rather belated reply.
His uneasiness was contagious, the Queen's once penetrative gaze softened and then wandered from his eyes to his gauntlet sheathed fingers that had begun drumming noisily on his breastplate. Their betrothal was already off to a great start.
"Must - you?"
"Sorry", he regained control of his hands. The fidgeting spread to his other limbs as he began to shift his weight from foot to foot which was only slightly less noisome.
"No, I am sorry. Its good to have a chance to properly meet one another."
"Yes, the whole escape from Howe's clutches only for the sudden surrender to Cautherien was a poor first meeting so lets - start over."
"A fresh start."
"Exactly."
"So..."
"Marriage. We're getting married."
"Right, your friend there was insistent that we'd make a smart match."
"This is the same fellow who tried to reason with Werewolves that were consistently attempting to murder us. Also the forest was equally keen our deaths. I even spied a shifty looking squirrel sharpening its teeth on a rather large stone."
Anora raised an eyebrow.
"It could've been an acorn. Its beady eyes threw me off. And... I'll just stop now."
The Queen smiled and gave a rather polite laugh. He heard that laugh before, the laugh of the wildly disinterested, but the smile was new. Alistair could tell grins and smirks were not part of her regular social repertoire.
"Alistair", she spoke his name as if testing it out like a newly forged weapon, "the bulk of this alliance is for the sake of the Kingdom. The nation needs for us to have a strong front, I'm sure as part of your Templar training you have been drilled in -"
"Yes, I'm quite well versed in battlefield tactics. They think my storied lineage coupled with your experience and well-earned good grace with the people of Ferelden will allow for the country to not fall into disarray once the Blight is quelled."
"Oh, so you believe you can halt the Blight?"
"Out of all things my companions and I have accomplished in gathering our allies and facing the - the stuff of nightmares, by Andraste's Grace I have full faith that we are up to the task."
Anora met his gaze once again, as she nodded in response to his answer he caught sight of a stray golden strand that now hovered above her left eye. Cousland was right, Anora was quite beautiful, and it wouldn't be so bad to see her across from the dinner table or find her caught up in his arms with the occasional dance at formal functions.
"Will there be dancing at the wedding?", he blurted, the question catching Anora off-guard.
"I - I do believe so. Do you not wish for there to be such a formality as the public usually -"
"Oh no, no I... dancing, good."
Alistair half wished for the familiar yet dreaded tingle behind his eyes that usually foretold of a Darkspawn ambush. Right now swooping of any kind would be good. Luckily Anora's Elven handmaiden bustled into the room and filled the awkward silence with an Orlesian lilted request for his shield-wielding presence by his fellow Grey Warden. With that he offered a simple half bow half head nod before quickly departing from the presence of the women.
Modifié par Esbatty, 12 décembre 2010 - 09:15 .