lol I would complain too. Too much time underground for any self-respecting person!
FanFiction/Art - Final Chapter (Aedan), (12/27) Interludes
Débuté par
Sisimka
, févr. 25 2010 05:06
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#152
Posté 07 mars 2010 - 10:55
Sisimka
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Fiddled with this one a bit. Changed his hair a little and added a background.
#153
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 05:30
Sandtigress
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Looks nice!! Still amazed by his hair!
#154
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 06:24
Sandtigress
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*looks around hopefully for the start of the Wedding Present*
Its next week, Sisi! :-D
Its next week, Sisi! :-D
#155
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 06:27
Sisimka
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LOL! You are too funny! I've changed up chapter one a lot, so it's still in pieces, sorry!
*glances over at TIVO* Also an episode of ANDY is waiting for me... you're gonna kill me if I watch it before I put this chapter back together, aren't you?
*glances over at TIVO* Also an episode of ANDY is waiting for me... you're gonna kill me if I watch it before I put this chapter back together, aren't you?
Modifié par Sisimka, 08 mars 2010 - 06:28 .
#156
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 06:31
Sandtigress
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:crying::crying::crying::crying::crying:
#157
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 06:35
Freckles04
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Hehehe...your fans are so demanding, aren't they, Sisi?? 
#158
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 06:43
Sandtigress
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Yours are too, Freckles. 
Oh wait. they're the same ones....
Oh wait. they're the same ones....
#159
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 06:50
Sisimka
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Sandi, now you know if tell you to go lick a lamppost while you're waiting, I mean a cookie, right? Did you bring one to work with you? You ARE at work, right? 
#160
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 07:01
Sandtigress
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lol That would be very cruel, since its Lent, and I'm not eating sweets except for the small occasional treat on Sundays! And yes, working hard. Work involves staring at sped-up videos and wondering if this worm is dong anything different from that worm. (Yes, I have a weird job.) I need breaks inbetween!
#161
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 08:29
Sisimka
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The Wedding Gift
Chapter One.
Aedan crouched down and held out his arms, a wide grin splitting his face as Riordan tottered toward him across the floor. His son was walking! He felt he would never tire of watching those sturdy little legs step towards him. Riordan’s brow alternately furrowed with concentration then lifted in delight as each step gained ground and he remained upright. His arms were stretched toward Aedan and he gathered the boy up and hugged the wriggling body to his chest, dropping kisses across the top of the thick black hair that adorned Riordan’s head.
“I can start teaching him forms soon,” he informed Leliana proudly.
Leliana laughed musically and then scoffed, waving a hand at them, “You are not to give that boy a sword until he is at least…” she paused to think, “Five?”
Aedan laughed at the thought of his eleven month old son lurching about with a big wooden practice sword and hugged him all over again. Having a child delighted him in ways he’d never anticipated. He remembered well the days when Fergus’s son had been an unfathomable being, a smelly ball of furiously noisy babe that had caused them all many sleepless nights. Riordan had given them no such trouble, but even if he had not been the placid and sweet infant he was, Aedan knew he would have loved his child regardless.
He had seen too little of his family of late, and every time he returned from Amaranthine he worried that his son wouldn’t remember him, but the boy was now relaxed and comfortable in his arms. The small face turned towards his own and regarded him with the most serious expression, as if to say, ‘Don’t worry, I know who you are...’
Aedan looked into those familiar eyes. Though Riordan favoured him, had his hair and would probably develop his nose, he had Leliana’s deep blue eyes, not his own cool blue ones, a combination Aedan was more than pleased with. After bestowing that serious little face with yet another kiss, he set his son on the floor and watched as Leliana beckoned him, sighing with contentment as the feat of walking across the room was accomplished all over again.
“You say he only started yesterday?” he asked as Leliana gathered up the wobbling little boy and set him astride her hip. She looked as at ease with a child at her hip as she had done with a blade and it stunned him when he considered the various facets of his wife. He often wondered if all women were able to take on so many roles as naturally as this. His mother certainly had.
Leliana was walking toward him as she answered, “Just yesterday, you almost missed it.” She looked a little wistful as she reached up to caress Aedan’s cheek.
Aedan captured her fingers and brought them to his lips, endowing them with a soft kiss before drawing her forward, taking his wife and his son into the circle of his arms. He kissed her ear and whispered softly, “I’m sorry, my love.”
He knew she understood his duty to protect Ferelden from the darkspawn threat, but it did not make their frequent and continued separations any easier. He had arrived in Denerim late last night and tomorrow morning he and Oghren would leave for Orzammar. One day, he had only one day with his family.
Leliana replied, “Shh, let’s make the most of the time we have.”
Aedan relinquished his hold on them and Leliana lifted her face to his for a kiss. Aedan happily complied and would have stood there all day had Riordan not had other ideas. A small hand interjected itself between them and they pulled apart with a chuckle.
Leliana took the break to ask, “Tell me again why you have to go with Oghren to Orzammar…” her tone was interested and there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes.
Aedan had mixed feelings about the trip, but it represented an opportunity he could not ignore, “Well besides collecting Alistair’s wedding present, I plan to attend the proving Bhelen is holding in honor of his first born. This proving is an invitation only event and will play host to Orzammar’s best. Not only is in an honor to be invited, but there is great potential for recruitment… the dwarves understand the darkspawn like no other.”
Aedan was excited to have the chance to practice his skills in the arena instead of against mindless creatures, and he was also looking forward to the possibility of recruiting more Grey Wardens. Ferelden now boasted nearly two dozen wardens, but the darkspawn still threatened. But as stirring as the prospect was, it meant another two weeks away from his family.
“Perhaps after Alistair’s wedding you could bring the boys to Amaranthine for a while?” he asked. He hugged her again and said more softly, “I’ve missed you…”
There was a shuffle at the door and Aedan looked up to see Luke standing there. He smiled broadly at the boy, and stepped away from Leliana towards him, but restrained himself from holding his arms out. Luke was at that awkward age where hugs were just entirely inappropriate. He remembered it well. Instead, he strode over and held out a hand instead and was pleased when Luke grasped his arm.
“It’s good to see you, Luke,” he said.
Luke smiled a little shyly in return and said, “Will you have time to practice with me today, Aedan?”
Aedan tucked his fatigue away and put on his most sincere expression before he replied, “Of course, Luke, whenever you’re ready.”
Leliana had told him Luke had been practicing his forms and his strikes and blocks almost daily. It seemed the boy still had not given away the idea of becoming a Grey Warden and worked tirelessly to perfect his combat techniques. He had taken to wielding dual weapons, as Aedan did, and it suited his more lean and wiry build. Though Aedan knew he was supposed to find the boy’s imitation flattering, he still worried about the boy’s obsession with the Grey Wardens.
Leliana had opted to bring the Luke to Denerim with her. As Alistair’s chancellor she spent more time in the city than Gwaren and neither of them liked the idea of leaving him alone for too long. He was so impressionable and Leliana and Aedan both hoped that by introducing him to the city, allowing him to practice his swordsmanship along with Oghren and the soldiers stationed in Denerim, that they could divert his interest to a military career instead.
Luke was still standing there and Aedan took this to mean he was ready now. He grinned at the boy and gestured that he take the lead. Before he left the room he glanced over his shoulder. Leliana was smiling indulgently and as he shrugged a quick apology, she waved him away saying, “Have fun!”
--=0=--
“Aedan didn’t have parades and festivals to celebrate his wedding…” Alistair knew this was a weak argument, but there was always a certain satisfaction in eliciting just that expression and that particular tone of sigh from Eamon. In a day full of paperwork and meetings, it was the little things…
Eamon replied, “Aedan is not the King of Ferelden…” and Alistair smiled, so very tempted to reply, ‘But he could be…’ but Eamon was looking fatigued and Alistair took mercy on the older man. The last two years had taxed his former regent and he was looking increasingly…old.
Eamon rubbed his temples before continuing in his tirelessly patient tone, “Ferelden has been waiting for over a year for this day, Alistair, it’s a occasion for the whole country to rejoice!”
There in lay the problem, to Alistair’s mind. He did not want to share his special day with the entire country, he wanted to share it only with his intended bride. He’d never expected to be swept off his feet by love. He’d hoped… but he knew so little of romance. There had been no love in the Chantry, only books, and sometimes even they failed to deliver upon a promise, there was always an end to the story, a final page. He’d watched wistfully as Aedan and Leliana’s friendship had developed into love. Though he would never wish for trials that had separated the pair time and again, he envied the bond that sustained them.
Alistair didn’t notice the smile that shaped his features as he thought of his bride. She was his opposite in every way. She was a mere slip of a woman, delicate, but her fiery personality more than compensated for her lack of height. She could hold her own in any debate, and it was this side of her that had first caught his eye. She had come to Denerim to request aid on behalf of the elves seeking to settle land to the south of her father’s holdings. Some of the local farmers had objected to Alistair’s gift of land to the Dalish and had armed themselves against what they called the ‘incursion’. But the elves had a champion in the form of a woman who was barely five feet tall.
Her colouring also vastly differed from his, her skin was pale, though her cheeks carried a high, natural blush no cosmetic could imitate. Her eyes were of a deep forest green and sparkled with humour and wit. Her raven hair reached to her waist when unbound, a sight he’d delighted in just once recently… Alistair quickly dragged his thoughts away from that particular vision thinking only that this wedding could not happen soon enough! Only three more weeks…
As a light flush burned the tips of his ears, Alistair noted that Eamon had stopped talking and was looking at him with an amused and indulgent expression. He laid a hand on Alistair’s shoulder and said, “Although you ruffled some feathers with your choice, lad, I’m glad you are marrying someone who pleases you so. You deserve the happiness she will bring you.” Eamon paused and then added in a more thoughtful tone, “You have done a fine job this past year, Alistair, I am proud of you. I may not say that enough. Though he’d hoped to spare you this business, Maric would have been proud of you too...”
Alistair felt his flush spreading at this outburst of unexpected warmth and praise and said quietly, “I long for a simple affair, something I would share with only those dear to me… but I understand, Eamon, a Royal Wedding it shall be. What is your plan for the parade again?”
They discussed the route and logistics until they were interrupted by a muffled thump. Alistair glanced up from his desk, and noted the door to his study had swung open, but no one had entered. Eamon was seated across the desk from him and he turned around and stood up, walking toward the door.
“Now here’s an interesting delivery!” the older man exclaimed as he stooped down to collect something from the floor. Alistair stood up, a flicker of concern creasing his brow, but as Eamon turned his face relaxed into an easy smile. Eamon was holding Riordan and gazing down at the boy with much affection. Aedan’s son had become a familiar sight around the palace.
Leliana arrived seconds later, breathless and flustered. “He only started walking yesterday!” she exclaimed, “I was stopped by a messenger and when I turned around, he was gone!”
Alistair and Eamon both laughed – a sound that obviously delighted Riordan as the boy joined in. Alistair walked around the desk to have his turn at holding him. Riordan was a welcome distraction and as he held the little boy and studied those familiar features he felt a wistful longing. Aedan had been blessed with not one, but two sons, though of course, Morrigan was probably largely responsible for the first. It was rare for a Grey Warden to able to have children at all…
Would he and his new wife be able to produce an heir? It was a subject Alistair had danced about delicately with his betrothed. While it was important, vitally important if one listened to Eamon, he did not want it to be the only reason he married.
Leliana stepped over to relieve him of Riordan just as the toddler began to wriggle and squirm and he asked her, “Did Aedan arrive last night?” He looked over her shoulder, as if he expected his friend to follow her through the door and said, “Is he here?”
“He’s gone to Fort Drakon to practice with Luke. He won’t leave the city without seeing you, Alistair,” she promised.
Alistair couldn’t suppress his grin…Fort Drakon! It was a fine day for some exercise, he hadn’t sparred with his men for a while…
“You mentioned a messenger?” Eamon inquired of Leliana.
“Yes, the Empress’s ship has been sighted. The harbourmaster anticipates they will be docking in about two hours,” Leliana answered.
Alistair’s shoulders slumped, well at least it was a fine day to stand at the harbour…
A messenger was sent to round up everyone of note, which included Aedan and Oghren. Alistair intended to give the Empress of Orlais a royal welcome. This would be her first official visit to Ferelden and the city of Denerim would be thronging the streets to greet their neighbouring ruler, therefore Eamon cautioned they should start for the harbour as soon as possible in order to avoid the crowds.
Riordan was demonstrating his new ability to walk, the uneven boards of the docks proving to be of little hindrance to his unsteady gait, when a shadow fell across them and Alistair straightened from his crouch. It was Aedan. He hugged his friend and Aedan clapped him fondly on the back, calling him ‘Brother’ by way of greeting.
Aedan then stooped down to pick up his son. As he stood up, Alistair marveled at the resemblance between the two faces. Besides the colour of his eyes, looking at Riordan really was like looking at a younger version of Ferelden’s Warden Commander.
A gravelly, “There’s the little nug runner!” sounded over his shoulder and Riordan immediately began to wriggle about in Aedan’s arms, reaching for Oghren. The dwarf took the toddler from his father and Riordan immediately set to tugging at the various plaits and braids in his beard. Oghren didn’t seem to mind in the least and held the boy comfortably as he laughed.
Luke poked his head over Oghren’s shoulder and tickled Riordan under the chin, then stepped lightly to Leliana’s side. The older boy was devoted to Leliana. She slipped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him close and asked him how the training had gone.
Aedan responded proudly, “He’s getting a lot faster with those blades! You’ll be ready to come to a proving with us soon, lad!” He ruffled Luke’s hair and the boy ducked a little before acceding to the show of affection. Alistair smiled at the family and thought, soon enough I will have this too, Maker willing…
A murmur rose from the gathering crowd as the ship rounded the harbour and began to drift toward the dock. Alistair felt a pang of apprehension as he scanned the bobbing heads for her shining dark hair, where was she? She should be here. But slight as she was, he’d not likely see her coming until she stood next to him.
Soon enough the ship was docked and the Empress herself appeared on the deck. Within moments she was descending to the dock and Alistair stepped forward to greet her.
As always, Celene was perfectly turned out, as if she had not just spent the last two weeks sailing. She held out her hands as she stepped away from the ramp and Alistair took them and said, “Welcome to Ferelden, Celene, I trust your journey was a pleasant one?”
He felt a small stir of air at his side and Celene glanced over, and smiled as she said, “Yes, dear Alistair, it was indeed most agreeable, but please, you must introduce me to this most charming lady at your side. Is this your bride to be?”
Alistair raised his brows and glanced beside himself and there she was! Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and a few silken strands of hair had escaped her bun, but otherwise, she was beautifully presentable in a navy and gold dress, styled in an almost Orlesian fashion. She would have picked it out especially for this occasion. Alistair felt his apprehension lift and his heart lighten as a broad smile spread across his face. She grinned in return and winked at him as she reached up to tuck those fine strands of hair back behind her ears.
Alistair turned back towards Celene and said, “May I present, Brenna, daughter of Arl Wulf of the Western Hills, and soon to be Queen of Ferelden.”
Chapter One.
Aedan crouched down and held out his arms, a wide grin splitting his face as Riordan tottered toward him across the floor. His son was walking! He felt he would never tire of watching those sturdy little legs step towards him. Riordan’s brow alternately furrowed with concentration then lifted in delight as each step gained ground and he remained upright. His arms were stretched toward Aedan and he gathered the boy up and hugged the wriggling body to his chest, dropping kisses across the top of the thick black hair that adorned Riordan’s head.
“I can start teaching him forms soon,” he informed Leliana proudly.
Leliana laughed musically and then scoffed, waving a hand at them, “You are not to give that boy a sword until he is at least…” she paused to think, “Five?”
Aedan laughed at the thought of his eleven month old son lurching about with a big wooden practice sword and hugged him all over again. Having a child delighted him in ways he’d never anticipated. He remembered well the days when Fergus’s son had been an unfathomable being, a smelly ball of furiously noisy babe that had caused them all many sleepless nights. Riordan had given them no such trouble, but even if he had not been the placid and sweet infant he was, Aedan knew he would have loved his child regardless.
He had seen too little of his family of late, and every time he returned from Amaranthine he worried that his son wouldn’t remember him, but the boy was now relaxed and comfortable in his arms. The small face turned towards his own and regarded him with the most serious expression, as if to say, ‘Don’t worry, I know who you are...’
Aedan looked into those familiar eyes. Though Riordan favoured him, had his hair and would probably develop his nose, he had Leliana’s deep blue eyes, not his own cool blue ones, a combination Aedan was more than pleased with. After bestowing that serious little face with yet another kiss, he set his son on the floor and watched as Leliana beckoned him, sighing with contentment as the feat of walking across the room was accomplished all over again.
“You say he only started yesterday?” he asked as Leliana gathered up the wobbling little boy and set him astride her hip. She looked as at ease with a child at her hip as she had done with a blade and it stunned him when he considered the various facets of his wife. He often wondered if all women were able to take on so many roles as naturally as this. His mother certainly had.
Leliana was walking toward him as she answered, “Just yesterday, you almost missed it.” She looked a little wistful as she reached up to caress Aedan’s cheek.
Aedan captured her fingers and brought them to his lips, endowing them with a soft kiss before drawing her forward, taking his wife and his son into the circle of his arms. He kissed her ear and whispered softly, “I’m sorry, my love.”
He knew she understood his duty to protect Ferelden from the darkspawn threat, but it did not make their frequent and continued separations any easier. He had arrived in Denerim late last night and tomorrow morning he and Oghren would leave for Orzammar. One day, he had only one day with his family.
Leliana replied, “Shh, let’s make the most of the time we have.”
Aedan relinquished his hold on them and Leliana lifted her face to his for a kiss. Aedan happily complied and would have stood there all day had Riordan not had other ideas. A small hand interjected itself between them and they pulled apart with a chuckle.
Leliana took the break to ask, “Tell me again why you have to go with Oghren to Orzammar…” her tone was interested and there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes.
Aedan had mixed feelings about the trip, but it represented an opportunity he could not ignore, “Well besides collecting Alistair’s wedding present, I plan to attend the proving Bhelen is holding in honor of his first born. This proving is an invitation only event and will play host to Orzammar’s best. Not only is in an honor to be invited, but there is great potential for recruitment… the dwarves understand the darkspawn like no other.”
Aedan was excited to have the chance to practice his skills in the arena instead of against mindless creatures, and he was also looking forward to the possibility of recruiting more Grey Wardens. Ferelden now boasted nearly two dozen wardens, but the darkspawn still threatened. But as stirring as the prospect was, it meant another two weeks away from his family.
“Perhaps after Alistair’s wedding you could bring the boys to Amaranthine for a while?” he asked. He hugged her again and said more softly, “I’ve missed you…”
There was a shuffle at the door and Aedan looked up to see Luke standing there. He smiled broadly at the boy, and stepped away from Leliana towards him, but restrained himself from holding his arms out. Luke was at that awkward age where hugs were just entirely inappropriate. He remembered it well. Instead, he strode over and held out a hand instead and was pleased when Luke grasped his arm.
“It’s good to see you, Luke,” he said.
Luke smiled a little shyly in return and said, “Will you have time to practice with me today, Aedan?”
Aedan tucked his fatigue away and put on his most sincere expression before he replied, “Of course, Luke, whenever you’re ready.”
Leliana had told him Luke had been practicing his forms and his strikes and blocks almost daily. It seemed the boy still had not given away the idea of becoming a Grey Warden and worked tirelessly to perfect his combat techniques. He had taken to wielding dual weapons, as Aedan did, and it suited his more lean and wiry build. Though Aedan knew he was supposed to find the boy’s imitation flattering, he still worried about the boy’s obsession with the Grey Wardens.
Leliana had opted to bring the Luke to Denerim with her. As Alistair’s chancellor she spent more time in the city than Gwaren and neither of them liked the idea of leaving him alone for too long. He was so impressionable and Leliana and Aedan both hoped that by introducing him to the city, allowing him to practice his swordsmanship along with Oghren and the soldiers stationed in Denerim, that they could divert his interest to a military career instead.
Luke was still standing there and Aedan took this to mean he was ready now. He grinned at the boy and gestured that he take the lead. Before he left the room he glanced over his shoulder. Leliana was smiling indulgently and as he shrugged a quick apology, she waved him away saying, “Have fun!”
--=0=--
“Aedan didn’t have parades and festivals to celebrate his wedding…” Alistair knew this was a weak argument, but there was always a certain satisfaction in eliciting just that expression and that particular tone of sigh from Eamon. In a day full of paperwork and meetings, it was the little things…
Eamon replied, “Aedan is not the King of Ferelden…” and Alistair smiled, so very tempted to reply, ‘But he could be…’ but Eamon was looking fatigued and Alistair took mercy on the older man. The last two years had taxed his former regent and he was looking increasingly…old.
Eamon rubbed his temples before continuing in his tirelessly patient tone, “Ferelden has been waiting for over a year for this day, Alistair, it’s a occasion for the whole country to rejoice!”
There in lay the problem, to Alistair’s mind. He did not want to share his special day with the entire country, he wanted to share it only with his intended bride. He’d never expected to be swept off his feet by love. He’d hoped… but he knew so little of romance. There had been no love in the Chantry, only books, and sometimes even they failed to deliver upon a promise, there was always an end to the story, a final page. He’d watched wistfully as Aedan and Leliana’s friendship had developed into love. Though he would never wish for trials that had separated the pair time and again, he envied the bond that sustained them.
Alistair didn’t notice the smile that shaped his features as he thought of his bride. She was his opposite in every way. She was a mere slip of a woman, delicate, but her fiery personality more than compensated for her lack of height. She could hold her own in any debate, and it was this side of her that had first caught his eye. She had come to Denerim to request aid on behalf of the elves seeking to settle land to the south of her father’s holdings. Some of the local farmers had objected to Alistair’s gift of land to the Dalish and had armed themselves against what they called the ‘incursion’. But the elves had a champion in the form of a woman who was barely five feet tall.
Her colouring also vastly differed from his, her skin was pale, though her cheeks carried a high, natural blush no cosmetic could imitate. Her eyes were of a deep forest green and sparkled with humour and wit. Her raven hair reached to her waist when unbound, a sight he’d delighted in just once recently… Alistair quickly dragged his thoughts away from that particular vision thinking only that this wedding could not happen soon enough! Only three more weeks…
As a light flush burned the tips of his ears, Alistair noted that Eamon had stopped talking and was looking at him with an amused and indulgent expression. He laid a hand on Alistair’s shoulder and said, “Although you ruffled some feathers with your choice, lad, I’m glad you are marrying someone who pleases you so. You deserve the happiness she will bring you.” Eamon paused and then added in a more thoughtful tone, “You have done a fine job this past year, Alistair, I am proud of you. I may not say that enough. Though he’d hoped to spare you this business, Maric would have been proud of you too...”
Alistair felt his flush spreading at this outburst of unexpected warmth and praise and said quietly, “I long for a simple affair, something I would share with only those dear to me… but I understand, Eamon, a Royal Wedding it shall be. What is your plan for the parade again?”
They discussed the route and logistics until they were interrupted by a muffled thump. Alistair glanced up from his desk, and noted the door to his study had swung open, but no one had entered. Eamon was seated across the desk from him and he turned around and stood up, walking toward the door.
“Now here’s an interesting delivery!” the older man exclaimed as he stooped down to collect something from the floor. Alistair stood up, a flicker of concern creasing his brow, but as Eamon turned his face relaxed into an easy smile. Eamon was holding Riordan and gazing down at the boy with much affection. Aedan’s son had become a familiar sight around the palace.
Leliana arrived seconds later, breathless and flustered. “He only started walking yesterday!” she exclaimed, “I was stopped by a messenger and when I turned around, he was gone!”
Alistair and Eamon both laughed – a sound that obviously delighted Riordan as the boy joined in. Alistair walked around the desk to have his turn at holding him. Riordan was a welcome distraction and as he held the little boy and studied those familiar features he felt a wistful longing. Aedan had been blessed with not one, but two sons, though of course, Morrigan was probably largely responsible for the first. It was rare for a Grey Warden to able to have children at all…
Would he and his new wife be able to produce an heir? It was a subject Alistair had danced about delicately with his betrothed. While it was important, vitally important if one listened to Eamon, he did not want it to be the only reason he married.
Leliana stepped over to relieve him of Riordan just as the toddler began to wriggle and squirm and he asked her, “Did Aedan arrive last night?” He looked over her shoulder, as if he expected his friend to follow her through the door and said, “Is he here?”
“He’s gone to Fort Drakon to practice with Luke. He won’t leave the city without seeing you, Alistair,” she promised.
Alistair couldn’t suppress his grin…Fort Drakon! It was a fine day for some exercise, he hadn’t sparred with his men for a while…
“You mentioned a messenger?” Eamon inquired of Leliana.
“Yes, the Empress’s ship has been sighted. The harbourmaster anticipates they will be docking in about two hours,” Leliana answered.
Alistair’s shoulders slumped, well at least it was a fine day to stand at the harbour…
A messenger was sent to round up everyone of note, which included Aedan and Oghren. Alistair intended to give the Empress of Orlais a royal welcome. This would be her first official visit to Ferelden and the city of Denerim would be thronging the streets to greet their neighbouring ruler, therefore Eamon cautioned they should start for the harbour as soon as possible in order to avoid the crowds.
Riordan was demonstrating his new ability to walk, the uneven boards of the docks proving to be of little hindrance to his unsteady gait, when a shadow fell across them and Alistair straightened from his crouch. It was Aedan. He hugged his friend and Aedan clapped him fondly on the back, calling him ‘Brother’ by way of greeting.
Aedan then stooped down to pick up his son. As he stood up, Alistair marveled at the resemblance between the two faces. Besides the colour of his eyes, looking at Riordan really was like looking at a younger version of Ferelden’s Warden Commander.
A gravelly, “There’s the little nug runner!” sounded over his shoulder and Riordan immediately began to wriggle about in Aedan’s arms, reaching for Oghren. The dwarf took the toddler from his father and Riordan immediately set to tugging at the various plaits and braids in his beard. Oghren didn’t seem to mind in the least and held the boy comfortably as he laughed.
Luke poked his head over Oghren’s shoulder and tickled Riordan under the chin, then stepped lightly to Leliana’s side. The older boy was devoted to Leliana. She slipped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him close and asked him how the training had gone.
Aedan responded proudly, “He’s getting a lot faster with those blades! You’ll be ready to come to a proving with us soon, lad!” He ruffled Luke’s hair and the boy ducked a little before acceding to the show of affection. Alistair smiled at the family and thought, soon enough I will have this too, Maker willing…
A murmur rose from the gathering crowd as the ship rounded the harbour and began to drift toward the dock. Alistair felt a pang of apprehension as he scanned the bobbing heads for her shining dark hair, where was she? She should be here. But slight as she was, he’d not likely see her coming until she stood next to him.
Soon enough the ship was docked and the Empress herself appeared on the deck. Within moments she was descending to the dock and Alistair stepped forward to greet her.
As always, Celene was perfectly turned out, as if she had not just spent the last two weeks sailing. She held out her hands as she stepped away from the ramp and Alistair took them and said, “Welcome to Ferelden, Celene, I trust your journey was a pleasant one?”
He felt a small stir of air at his side and Celene glanced over, and smiled as she said, “Yes, dear Alistair, it was indeed most agreeable, but please, you must introduce me to this most charming lady at your side. Is this your bride to be?”
Alistair raised his brows and glanced beside himself and there she was! Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and a few silken strands of hair had escaped her bun, but otherwise, she was beautifully presentable in a navy and gold dress, styled in an almost Orlesian fashion. She would have picked it out especially for this occasion. Alistair felt his apprehension lift and his heart lighten as a broad smile spread across his face. She grinned in return and winked at him as she reached up to tuck those fine strands of hair back behind her ears.
Alistair turned back towards Celene and said, “May I present, Brenna, daughter of Arl Wulf of the Western Hills, and soon to be Queen of Ferelden.”
Modifié par Sisimka, 08 mars 2010 - 11:43 .
#162
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 08:31
Sandtigress
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Huuuuurah! I have something to read in a little bit! :-D
ETA: Thanks Sisi! Go enjoy Andy now.
ETA: Thanks Sisi! Go enjoy Andy now.
Modifié par Sandtigress, 08 mars 2010 - 08:34 .
#164
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 09:27
Maximus741000
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My day was a bit dreary, but when I started reading, I was sure my spirits would be lifted, and they were. When the Empress arrived, I half expected her to be complaining about Ferelden, but it's a nice change from the typical Orlesian narcissism about the place. Regardless, thank you, once again
#165
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 09:29
Sisimka
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Thanks Maximus. Remember, she's barely set foot off the ship!
#166
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 10:39
Freckles04
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Sweet. Sweet. I need one of Sandi's cookies to go with this story. I think it fits, yes?
#167
Posté 08 mars 2010 - 10:40
Sisimka
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I have alluded to the fact that he's seen her hair down, but I haven't decided if that's all he's seen yet...
#168
Posté 09 mars 2010 - 12:03
Sandtigress
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Awwww, yay! I like seeing Alistair with someone he can love. :-) She sounds like she might be good enough for him. ;-)
And I love Aedan with his family! Too sweet!
And I love Aedan with his family! Too sweet!
Modifié par Sandtigress, 09 mars 2010 - 12:04 .
#170
Posté 09 mars 2010 - 02:18
valen_morrow
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You're going to be sending me back here daily to read each new chapter, I often don't like fan fiction this much but I'm a sucker for your stories.
#171
Posté 09 mars 2010 - 02:36
Masticetobbacco
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epic oghren beard!
and cute riordan
and cute riordan
Modifié par Masticetobbacco, 09 mars 2010 - 02:43 .
#172
Posté 09 mars 2010 - 02:51
Sisimka
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Thanks all! It was nice too take a break from angsty Aedan and write happy Aedan for a change. But I promise, angsty Aedan will be back. *whispers so Aedan can't hear her* - He's too much fun to write...
We'll get to know Brenna a little better next chapter, I think...
@Valen - can't promise Chapter 2 tomorrow, schedule looking a bit tight at this stage. I'll try! Your comment is very flattering, by the way. Thank you!
@Mastice - Oghren does have a rather epic beard, doesn't he? So much fun to colour, totally lost track of time there as I was working on it! And yes, isn't little Riordan the cutest?!
We'll get to know Brenna a little better next chapter, I think...
@Valen - can't promise Chapter 2 tomorrow, schedule looking a bit tight at this stage. I'll try! Your comment is very flattering, by the way. Thank you!
@Mastice - Oghren does have a rather epic beard, doesn't he? So much fun to colour, totally lost track of time there as I was working on it! And yes, isn't little Riordan the cutest?!
Modifié par Sisimka, 09 mars 2010 - 02:54 .
#173
Posté 09 mars 2010 - 06:39
bloodtallow
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I love Riordan. It is so nice seeing Aedan & Leliana with their son. And I am very excited to learn more about Brenna.
Great job, Sisimka!
Great job, Sisimka!
#174
Posté 10 mars 2010 - 04:43
Sisimka
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Chapter Two
Aedan was staring out the window of Alistair’s study. From where he was sitting there wasn’t much of a view, mostly sky and some rooftops. There was a row of pigeons lined along one of the chimneys and they made him think of Shayle. They had correspondence from Wynne and Shayle from time to time, but in two years the pair had yet to find a way to restore the golem to her former body, that of a dwarf.
While he was lost in thought something hit him on the forehead and he blinked, looking down at his lap where a crumpled up ball of paper rested between his legs. He picked it up and looked curiously at Alistair, who was looking amused and exasperated all at the same time.
“Anyone home?” the king asked and Aedan grinned, tossing the balled up paper back across the desk, scoring a direct hit against Alistair’s nose. He’d compensated for the expected dodge… he’d sparred with his friend enough times to know which way he was most likely to turn his head.
The makeshift ball was tossed back towards Aedan and he caught it in mid air and flung it immediately back over the desk, surprising Alistair with the quick return. It bounced off Alistair’s hand and as he stooped to the floor to pick it up, Aedan reached for another paper on the desk, balled it up and flipped it directly at the his head as it popped back up.
Alistair blinked and gasped, then said, “Right!” in a decisive tone and started balling up papers across his desk. Aedan did the same and before long the two of them were running about the study, yelling, ducking and tossing balls of paper.
Alistair threw the first cushion, Aedan threw the second. They both missed and bent down to pick up their new missiles. Aedan grabbed his first and instead of throwing it right away he ducked behind the couch. He heard Alistair scuffling across the floor and risked poking his head up. He saw a tuft of reddish gold hair behind the desk. He launched his missile, which careened across the desk, taking the rest of the papers and a collection of discarded crumpled up balls with it. Alistair stood up against the shower of objects and threw his cushion towards Aedan. Aedan ducked and the cushion bounced off the bookcase behind him and whacked him softly on the back of the head.
They collected their cushions once more and as they straightened to launch at each other once again, there came a peal of laughter from the doorway. They both froze in the act of throwing and turned. Leliana was standing there, bent forward, one hand over her mouth, the other pressed to her side.
As Aedan grinned sheepishly at his wife a cushion thumped against the side of his face and Leliana laughed harder. He wheeled and tossed his cushion at Alistair, but he missed – it was too hard to aim while laughing. He sank down into the couch and chuckled helplessly for a moment while Alistair collected both cushions and approached.
He held up his hands and said, “I surrender!” Alistair grinned and dropped the cushions back onto the couch and sat beside him, laughing softly himself.
Leliana recovered first and tried for a stern expression as she said, “What would you have done if I’d been the Empress Celene?” but her frown faltered and she lapsed into laughter again at the thought.
Alistair answered, “I would have explained that we do things a little differently here in Ferelden!”
Aedan laughed harder, the mental picture of it all too much for him. Though he shared an easy camaraderie with his wardens, silly things like this never occurred in Amaranthine. Alistair had a sense of fun that he sorely missed. It felt good to laugh about nothing for a while and Aedan felt himself relaxing.
Leliana finally smiled and said, “Well, I’m sorry to have interrupted you both when you were obviously so busy…”
Alistair grinned and said, “What did you need, Leliana?”
“Two things: the trade agreement with Bhelen. I gave it to you yesterday, is it signed?” she asked.
Alistair got up and looked at his desk… his face fell and his cheeks flushed and Aedan started laughing all over again as the King of Ferelden dropped to his hands and knees and began crawling about the floor picking up balls of crumpled paper.
He and Leliana went over to help and between the three of them they straightened out several important documents and restored the treaty Leliana had been looking for.
She stood up and looked at the sheaf of wrinkled papers in her hands for a moment before saying, “I suppose Aedan could tell him you were very thorough with your reading?”
She giggled and the sound was irresistible, setting them all off again.
Finally, Alistair asked, “And the second thing you needed?”
Leliana smiled, her eyes twinkling and replied, “My husband. Are you two done ‘working’ yet?”
Alistair scanned the piles of papers that now littered his desk and scratched his head. He looked up at Aedan and said, “So Zevran is at Amaranthine, Philippe is patrolling the North Highway and Eric the West… and Ferelden now boasts two dozen wardens, that about it?”
Aedan nodded, “Yes, names and further details were in my report. They’re all hoping to be here for your wedding, Alistair, let’s hope the darkspawn cooperate…”
And with that the mood sobered and the three of them nodded thoughtfully. Alistair put a hand on Aedan’s shoulder and said, “So long as my Brother is with them…”
“I wouldn’t miss it, Alistair. It lightens my heart to see you happy and settled with someone so suited to you,” Aedan replied. He thought Brenna was wonderful and she was perfect for Alistair. She was an irresistible combination of intelligence and warmth, the very same qualities that the king himself possessed.
Alistair grinned in a pleased fashion and waved him away, “See you at dinner…”
Aedan took Leliana’s hand and followed her from the room. They didn’t talk as they traversed the hallways to their apartment; they just walked quietly beside one another. With Leliana spending so much time in Denerim, Alistair had insisted on providing them with their own suite of rooms at the palace. It was a convenience they both enjoyed as it allowed Leliana to keep her sons close by and be at the King’s beck and call.
When they entered their suite, Leliana put a finger to her lips as she crossed to the desk, putting down the treaty. Aedan raised a brow and she whispered, “Riordan is napping…”
She popped her head into the toddler’s room and the maid who had been watching over him came out with her and was excused. Aedan closed the door behind the young woman and then crossed to his wife, taking her in his arms and holding her close. He’d been looking forward to time alone with her all day. He said quietly, “How long do we have until dinner?”
Leliana smiled and said, “About an hour…”
Aedan grinned and released her, taking her by the hand and leading her into their bedroom saying, “Hmm…that might be enough time…” but he stopped short when he saw the outfits laid out across their bed. His looked suspiciously… frilly.
He turned and raised a brow at Leliana and said, “Why do I have to dress up for dinner?”
“Because, my scruffy Warden,” she said as she tugged at his less than presentable shirt, “We are dining with the Empress of Orlais.”
Aedan groaned and Leliana smiled sympathetically. His distaste for refined clothing was well known…
Putting on a sly expression Aedan said, “Well if you want me to wear that fussy shirt you’ll just have to take this one off me first…”
They had each other undressed in less than a minute…
--=0=--
Alistair leaned back in his chair and surveyed the remnants of the elaborate dinner that littered the table. This was not how he’d pictured his evening – he’d hoped for a quiet dinner with Brenna, Aedan and Leliana – but favourable winds had guided the empress’s ship in to Denerim two days early.
Celene was sitting to his right. She had engaged Aedan in conversation and the warrior was doing his best not to look uncomfortable. Besides tugging at the collar of an obviously new shirt, he appeared slightly intimidated by the empress. She had insisted on being seated next to the ‘Hero of Ferelden’ and Aedan had endured the title three times before raising a hand and pleading with her to call him simply by name. Alistair had had to suppress a chuckle time and again as he watched Aedan’s brows rise up and down as Celene described what a formal banquet would be like in Orlais. Alistair caught Leliana’s eye and his chancellor winked at him, she was obviously enjoying Aedan’s predicament too.
Leliana was seated next to Celene’s chancellor, Bertram, and the two advisors had talked politely on and off throughout the evening. Zevran had been his acting advisor when last he’d visited Val Royeaux and Bertram had been slightly surprised to have been confronted by a different face, one he seemed familiar with. Leliana had confirmed privately to Alistair that she was indeed known to the Orlesian chancellor, but that it would not be a problem. Alistair trusted her judgment.
As if sensing his train of thought, Celene turned to him then and asked, “By the way, Alistair, where is that other delightful advisor of yours, Zevran, I think his name was?”
Aedan’s brows rose again and Alistair let loose a chuckle. Ferelden certainly had ended up with a cast of characters holding the reins of power. Their king was a royal bastard, their chancellor was an Orlesian bard, a dwarf commanded their armies and on occasion he was advised by a former Antivan assassin. Yet it all worked! Or he had heard no rumours to the contrary; something both Leliana and Eamon would have immediately brought to his attention. He thought back to one of the first things he’d ever said to Aedan, ‘One good thing about the Blight is that it brings people together.’ Of course, he’d been demonstrating his ill-humour at the time…
Aedan answered for him, “Zevran is presently with the wardens in Amaranthine.”
Celene asked, her tone intent, “Zevran is a Grey Warden as well? I had thought him your advisor, Alistair…”
Alistair grinned as he answered, “Zevran is the Warden Commander’s man, I am privileged to ‘borrow’ him from time to time.”
Aedan waved a hand, “Though I released him from that oath years ago…”
But Alistair had picked up on Celene’s intimation and said quietly, “I am the only Grey Warden in Ferelden to have inolvement in politics,” and he aimed an affectionate smile toward Eamon and Leliana both, “When I’m allowed to…”
Celene inclined her head towards Bertram and smiled as she said, “They like to think they know what’s best, hmm?” The empress then looked across Alistair at Brenna and she shared a knowing look with his betrothed as she added, “And soon you’ll have a whole new advisor!”
Alistair glanced to his left and smiled at Brenna. She responded to his smile with a sweet one of her own, a small dimple appearing in each cheek. Brenna was one of those women that wore her beauty casually. She was certainly aware of her effect on Alistair but did not play to it.
He found her small hand and squeezed it, before turning back to Celene and saying, “Ferelden’s future queen needs no encouragement. Already she works tirelessly on behalf of our Dalish allies and has recently spread her efforts to include the alienage.”
Alistair smiled proudly over at Brenna again and would have liked to have touched her cheek, but he kept his hands to himself. He wasn’t quite as comfortable with public displays of affection as Aedan and Leliana seemed to be. Perhaps after some time, when he’d become used to the idea of having a wife. Wife…what a strange word that was.
Alistair’s attention was diverted from Brenna by a loud bellow of laughter from across the table. Oghren was relating a story to the captain of Celene’s Chevaliers and the two men were leaning back in their chairs and slapping their thighs. Alistair grinned. He knew most of Oghren’s stories and could easily guess the flavour of the tale. Both Bertram and Isolde looked shocked, their twin expressions causing much mirth amongst the other guests.
Oghren had finally convinced Felsi to marry him, but she was not present at the dinner party. She was expecting their first child and was so close to her time she did not dare leave her quarters for long, or so Oghren had said. Alistair suspected her absence may also have been to do with fact that the dwarf had taken to affectionately likening his increasingly rotund wife to a bronto. They certainly had an odd relationship.
Now, if they could just work on Zevran and Kayley, all the remaining companions would be settled. It was a thought that Alistair often entertained. He considered these people his family and yearned to see them all happy with their loved ones, their children. This respite from the bitterness of war and strife might not last.
+++++
Although Arl Wulf did maintain a residence in Denerim, Brenna had been assigned a room at the palace for occasions such as these. Her room was next to Alistair’s own and he could see her balcony from his. He had spent many an evening, even when she was not in the palace, gazing at her balcony and wondering what she might be up to. She would keep the room after they were married, but Alistair hoped she would share his own…
He stopped outside her door and released her hand. It was late and he was sure she’d want to head straight inside, but Brenna surprised him by saying, “Will you come in and sit with me a while?”
‘Ah, yes!?’ he thought and smiled wide, opening her door and gesturing her to precede him into the room. She walked straight to the balcony and opened the double doors wide, letting in a welcome breath of fresh air. It was a mild evening and it would be nice to sit outside after the stuffy atmosphere of the dining room, a chance to clear their heads.
Brenna leaned forward over the balcony railing and Alistair stopped beside her, admiring the way the moonlight played off her pale skin and dark hair. She looked thoughtful a moment and then she chuckled, turning her face towards his and saying, “So which did you find more amusing: the way the empress pounced on Aedan or the expression on Bertram’s face when Oghren started telling stories?”
Alistair laughed. “It’s a tough choice! I do have entertaining friends, don’t I? Do you think the tone of the evening was too casual for an empress? Bertram certainly spent a lot of his time looking down his nose at one or the other of us.”
Brenna leaned back and flipped a hand up and down in a dismissing gesture, “I think it was probably the most relaxing evening she’s had in a while. By all accounts they don’t have intimate dinner parties in Orlais, they have banquets and balls and competitions to see who had the most unofficial titles. I think she enjoyed being Celene tonight.”
Alistair took the opportunity to move a little closer to her and he reached out to brush those few wisps of hair away from her eyes as he said, “What about you, did you enjoy the evening?”
She smiled and nodded, but said quietly, “Do you think we might have a ball after our wedding? I heard Celene describing one to Aedan and it sounded magical, music and dancing, I would adore something like that…on a smaller scale, of course.”
He pictured Brenna twirling about in a beautiful dress then returning to his arms, her cheeks flushed with the excitement and exertion of dancing and nodded immediately, “Yes, I think so. But you must wear your hair down so that it swirls about you when you dance.”
She smiled in delight and he leaned forward to kiss her then, his hands moving to untie that bun, eager to release the long dark flow of hair that entranced him so. But as his lips touched hers, something punched him in the back and he lost his breath. It happened again, and he staggered forward from the blow, dropping his hands to her shoulders to steady himself.
Alistair grunted against her lips and tried to lift his head. Brenna drew back. He looked at her and wondered why her face was spattered with… was that blood? Her hands touched his chest and came away wet, shining, stained dark. He looked at them, and looked down at himself. Something was poking out of his shirt and it hurt to breathe, in fact he wasn’t sure he could draw any air at all. He tried and heard a whistling sound, tasted blood in his throat.
As he sank to his knees, darkness edging in on his vision, the whistling was joined by a screaming. The floor of the balcony rose to meet him and the last thing he saw was Brenna crouched over him, bloodied hands to her cheeks, her eyes wide with terror, her mouth open and he thought the screaming might have been coming from her.
Aedan was staring out the window of Alistair’s study. From where he was sitting there wasn’t much of a view, mostly sky and some rooftops. There was a row of pigeons lined along one of the chimneys and they made him think of Shayle. They had correspondence from Wynne and Shayle from time to time, but in two years the pair had yet to find a way to restore the golem to her former body, that of a dwarf.
While he was lost in thought something hit him on the forehead and he blinked, looking down at his lap where a crumpled up ball of paper rested between his legs. He picked it up and looked curiously at Alistair, who was looking amused and exasperated all at the same time.
“Anyone home?” the king asked and Aedan grinned, tossing the balled up paper back across the desk, scoring a direct hit against Alistair’s nose. He’d compensated for the expected dodge… he’d sparred with his friend enough times to know which way he was most likely to turn his head.
The makeshift ball was tossed back towards Aedan and he caught it in mid air and flung it immediately back over the desk, surprising Alistair with the quick return. It bounced off Alistair’s hand and as he stooped to the floor to pick it up, Aedan reached for another paper on the desk, balled it up and flipped it directly at the his head as it popped back up.
Alistair blinked and gasped, then said, “Right!” in a decisive tone and started balling up papers across his desk. Aedan did the same and before long the two of them were running about the study, yelling, ducking and tossing balls of paper.
Alistair threw the first cushion, Aedan threw the second. They both missed and bent down to pick up their new missiles. Aedan grabbed his first and instead of throwing it right away he ducked behind the couch. He heard Alistair scuffling across the floor and risked poking his head up. He saw a tuft of reddish gold hair behind the desk. He launched his missile, which careened across the desk, taking the rest of the papers and a collection of discarded crumpled up balls with it. Alistair stood up against the shower of objects and threw his cushion towards Aedan. Aedan ducked and the cushion bounced off the bookcase behind him and whacked him softly on the back of the head.
They collected their cushions once more and as they straightened to launch at each other once again, there came a peal of laughter from the doorway. They both froze in the act of throwing and turned. Leliana was standing there, bent forward, one hand over her mouth, the other pressed to her side.
As Aedan grinned sheepishly at his wife a cushion thumped against the side of his face and Leliana laughed harder. He wheeled and tossed his cushion at Alistair, but he missed – it was too hard to aim while laughing. He sank down into the couch and chuckled helplessly for a moment while Alistair collected both cushions and approached.
He held up his hands and said, “I surrender!” Alistair grinned and dropped the cushions back onto the couch and sat beside him, laughing softly himself.
Leliana recovered first and tried for a stern expression as she said, “What would you have done if I’d been the Empress Celene?” but her frown faltered and she lapsed into laughter again at the thought.
Alistair answered, “I would have explained that we do things a little differently here in Ferelden!”
Aedan laughed harder, the mental picture of it all too much for him. Though he shared an easy camaraderie with his wardens, silly things like this never occurred in Amaranthine. Alistair had a sense of fun that he sorely missed. It felt good to laugh about nothing for a while and Aedan felt himself relaxing.
Leliana finally smiled and said, “Well, I’m sorry to have interrupted you both when you were obviously so busy…”
Alistair grinned and said, “What did you need, Leliana?”
“Two things: the trade agreement with Bhelen. I gave it to you yesterday, is it signed?” she asked.
Alistair got up and looked at his desk… his face fell and his cheeks flushed and Aedan started laughing all over again as the King of Ferelden dropped to his hands and knees and began crawling about the floor picking up balls of crumpled paper.
He and Leliana went over to help and between the three of them they straightened out several important documents and restored the treaty Leliana had been looking for.
She stood up and looked at the sheaf of wrinkled papers in her hands for a moment before saying, “I suppose Aedan could tell him you were very thorough with your reading?”
She giggled and the sound was irresistible, setting them all off again.
Finally, Alistair asked, “And the second thing you needed?”
Leliana smiled, her eyes twinkling and replied, “My husband. Are you two done ‘working’ yet?”
Alistair scanned the piles of papers that now littered his desk and scratched his head. He looked up at Aedan and said, “So Zevran is at Amaranthine, Philippe is patrolling the North Highway and Eric the West… and Ferelden now boasts two dozen wardens, that about it?”
Aedan nodded, “Yes, names and further details were in my report. They’re all hoping to be here for your wedding, Alistair, let’s hope the darkspawn cooperate…”
And with that the mood sobered and the three of them nodded thoughtfully. Alistair put a hand on Aedan’s shoulder and said, “So long as my Brother is with them…”
“I wouldn’t miss it, Alistair. It lightens my heart to see you happy and settled with someone so suited to you,” Aedan replied. He thought Brenna was wonderful and she was perfect for Alistair. She was an irresistible combination of intelligence and warmth, the very same qualities that the king himself possessed.
Alistair grinned in a pleased fashion and waved him away, “See you at dinner…”
Aedan took Leliana’s hand and followed her from the room. They didn’t talk as they traversed the hallways to their apartment; they just walked quietly beside one another. With Leliana spending so much time in Denerim, Alistair had insisted on providing them with their own suite of rooms at the palace. It was a convenience they both enjoyed as it allowed Leliana to keep her sons close by and be at the King’s beck and call.
When they entered their suite, Leliana put a finger to her lips as she crossed to the desk, putting down the treaty. Aedan raised a brow and she whispered, “Riordan is napping…”
She popped her head into the toddler’s room and the maid who had been watching over him came out with her and was excused. Aedan closed the door behind the young woman and then crossed to his wife, taking her in his arms and holding her close. He’d been looking forward to time alone with her all day. He said quietly, “How long do we have until dinner?”
Leliana smiled and said, “About an hour…”
Aedan grinned and released her, taking her by the hand and leading her into their bedroom saying, “Hmm…that might be enough time…” but he stopped short when he saw the outfits laid out across their bed. His looked suspiciously… frilly.
He turned and raised a brow at Leliana and said, “Why do I have to dress up for dinner?”
“Because, my scruffy Warden,” she said as she tugged at his less than presentable shirt, “We are dining with the Empress of Orlais.”
Aedan groaned and Leliana smiled sympathetically. His distaste for refined clothing was well known…
Putting on a sly expression Aedan said, “Well if you want me to wear that fussy shirt you’ll just have to take this one off me first…”
They had each other undressed in less than a minute…
--=0=--
Alistair leaned back in his chair and surveyed the remnants of the elaborate dinner that littered the table. This was not how he’d pictured his evening – he’d hoped for a quiet dinner with Brenna, Aedan and Leliana – but favourable winds had guided the empress’s ship in to Denerim two days early.
Celene was sitting to his right. She had engaged Aedan in conversation and the warrior was doing his best not to look uncomfortable. Besides tugging at the collar of an obviously new shirt, he appeared slightly intimidated by the empress. She had insisted on being seated next to the ‘Hero of Ferelden’ and Aedan had endured the title three times before raising a hand and pleading with her to call him simply by name. Alistair had had to suppress a chuckle time and again as he watched Aedan’s brows rise up and down as Celene described what a formal banquet would be like in Orlais. Alistair caught Leliana’s eye and his chancellor winked at him, she was obviously enjoying Aedan’s predicament too.
Leliana was seated next to Celene’s chancellor, Bertram, and the two advisors had talked politely on and off throughout the evening. Zevran had been his acting advisor when last he’d visited Val Royeaux and Bertram had been slightly surprised to have been confronted by a different face, one he seemed familiar with. Leliana had confirmed privately to Alistair that she was indeed known to the Orlesian chancellor, but that it would not be a problem. Alistair trusted her judgment.
As if sensing his train of thought, Celene turned to him then and asked, “By the way, Alistair, where is that other delightful advisor of yours, Zevran, I think his name was?”
Aedan’s brows rose again and Alistair let loose a chuckle. Ferelden certainly had ended up with a cast of characters holding the reins of power. Their king was a royal bastard, their chancellor was an Orlesian bard, a dwarf commanded their armies and on occasion he was advised by a former Antivan assassin. Yet it all worked! Or he had heard no rumours to the contrary; something both Leliana and Eamon would have immediately brought to his attention. He thought back to one of the first things he’d ever said to Aedan, ‘One good thing about the Blight is that it brings people together.’ Of course, he’d been demonstrating his ill-humour at the time…
Aedan answered for him, “Zevran is presently with the wardens in Amaranthine.”
Celene asked, her tone intent, “Zevran is a Grey Warden as well? I had thought him your advisor, Alistair…”
Alistair grinned as he answered, “Zevran is the Warden Commander’s man, I am privileged to ‘borrow’ him from time to time.”
Aedan waved a hand, “Though I released him from that oath years ago…”
But Alistair had picked up on Celene’s intimation and said quietly, “I am the only Grey Warden in Ferelden to have inolvement in politics,” and he aimed an affectionate smile toward Eamon and Leliana both, “When I’m allowed to…”
Celene inclined her head towards Bertram and smiled as she said, “They like to think they know what’s best, hmm?” The empress then looked across Alistair at Brenna and she shared a knowing look with his betrothed as she added, “And soon you’ll have a whole new advisor!”
Alistair glanced to his left and smiled at Brenna. She responded to his smile with a sweet one of her own, a small dimple appearing in each cheek. Brenna was one of those women that wore her beauty casually. She was certainly aware of her effect on Alistair but did not play to it.
He found her small hand and squeezed it, before turning back to Celene and saying, “Ferelden’s future queen needs no encouragement. Already she works tirelessly on behalf of our Dalish allies and has recently spread her efforts to include the alienage.”
Alistair smiled proudly over at Brenna again and would have liked to have touched her cheek, but he kept his hands to himself. He wasn’t quite as comfortable with public displays of affection as Aedan and Leliana seemed to be. Perhaps after some time, when he’d become used to the idea of having a wife. Wife…what a strange word that was.
Alistair’s attention was diverted from Brenna by a loud bellow of laughter from across the table. Oghren was relating a story to the captain of Celene’s Chevaliers and the two men were leaning back in their chairs and slapping their thighs. Alistair grinned. He knew most of Oghren’s stories and could easily guess the flavour of the tale. Both Bertram and Isolde looked shocked, their twin expressions causing much mirth amongst the other guests.
Oghren had finally convinced Felsi to marry him, but she was not present at the dinner party. She was expecting their first child and was so close to her time she did not dare leave her quarters for long, or so Oghren had said. Alistair suspected her absence may also have been to do with fact that the dwarf had taken to affectionately likening his increasingly rotund wife to a bronto. They certainly had an odd relationship.
Now, if they could just work on Zevran and Kayley, all the remaining companions would be settled. It was a thought that Alistair often entertained. He considered these people his family and yearned to see them all happy with their loved ones, their children. This respite from the bitterness of war and strife might not last.
+++++
Although Arl Wulf did maintain a residence in Denerim, Brenna had been assigned a room at the palace for occasions such as these. Her room was next to Alistair’s own and he could see her balcony from his. He had spent many an evening, even when she was not in the palace, gazing at her balcony and wondering what she might be up to. She would keep the room after they were married, but Alistair hoped she would share his own…
He stopped outside her door and released her hand. It was late and he was sure she’d want to head straight inside, but Brenna surprised him by saying, “Will you come in and sit with me a while?”
‘Ah, yes!?’ he thought and smiled wide, opening her door and gesturing her to precede him into the room. She walked straight to the balcony and opened the double doors wide, letting in a welcome breath of fresh air. It was a mild evening and it would be nice to sit outside after the stuffy atmosphere of the dining room, a chance to clear their heads.
Brenna leaned forward over the balcony railing and Alistair stopped beside her, admiring the way the moonlight played off her pale skin and dark hair. She looked thoughtful a moment and then she chuckled, turning her face towards his and saying, “So which did you find more amusing: the way the empress pounced on Aedan or the expression on Bertram’s face when Oghren started telling stories?”
Alistair laughed. “It’s a tough choice! I do have entertaining friends, don’t I? Do you think the tone of the evening was too casual for an empress? Bertram certainly spent a lot of his time looking down his nose at one or the other of us.”
Brenna leaned back and flipped a hand up and down in a dismissing gesture, “I think it was probably the most relaxing evening she’s had in a while. By all accounts they don’t have intimate dinner parties in Orlais, they have banquets and balls and competitions to see who had the most unofficial titles. I think she enjoyed being Celene tonight.”
Alistair took the opportunity to move a little closer to her and he reached out to brush those few wisps of hair away from her eyes as he said, “What about you, did you enjoy the evening?”
She smiled and nodded, but said quietly, “Do you think we might have a ball after our wedding? I heard Celene describing one to Aedan and it sounded magical, music and dancing, I would adore something like that…on a smaller scale, of course.”
He pictured Brenna twirling about in a beautiful dress then returning to his arms, her cheeks flushed with the excitement and exertion of dancing and nodded immediately, “Yes, I think so. But you must wear your hair down so that it swirls about you when you dance.”
She smiled in delight and he leaned forward to kiss her then, his hands moving to untie that bun, eager to release the long dark flow of hair that entranced him so. But as his lips touched hers, something punched him in the back and he lost his breath. It happened again, and he staggered forward from the blow, dropping his hands to her shoulders to steady himself.
Alistair grunted against her lips and tried to lift his head. Brenna drew back. He looked at her and wondered why her face was spattered with… was that blood? Her hands touched his chest and came away wet, shining, stained dark. He looked at them, and looked down at himself. Something was poking out of his shirt and it hurt to breathe, in fact he wasn’t sure he could draw any air at all. He tried and heard a whistling sound, tasted blood in his throat.
As he sank to his knees, darkness edging in on his vision, the whistling was joined by a screaming. The floor of the balcony rose to meet him and the last thing he saw was Brenna crouched over him, bloodied hands to her cheeks, her eyes wide with terror, her mouth open and he thought the screaming might have been coming from her.
Modifié par Sisimka, 10 mars 2010 - 09:02 .
