Misconceptions
Thanks to Prisoner_24601 for clipping off about half of this. As always, you're right. Rule 17 and all that.
"Finally I get you alone," Cailan said. His breath was warm again Anora's neck, as his fingers unlaced the back of her dress.
"I know," Anora said. She could feel him even through her gown and the cloth of his hose, and knew he was as eager for this night as she was. It had been years. Years of fumbling in closets, biting down on his lip as he kissed her so that she didn't scream. Leaning on the wall for support, with her skirts around her waist, and his hand in her smalls, a finger thrusting inside her, as his other hand groped her body. Years of finding an unused guest room and hoping that the door stayed locked, of his tongue on her breasts, her stomach. His attentions eventually moving between her legs. His fingers on her, in her, as she stroked him in her hand and wondered what it would feel like to have that between her legs instead. Years of telling him that he could not do what he wanted, what she wanted, what she thought she might well risk a pregnancy for if they could just get it over with. Years of realizing that his hand, his mouth, his fumblings, were not enough for her. That she wanted, needed more, so much that at times it felt like she could scream with the frustration of it all; thought that it might well be worth a guilty conversation with her father, a hasty marriage, and knowing looks from everyone in court, to just get it over with and to stop feeling so desperate all the time.
"I'm going to make this last as long as possible," Cailan said, kissing at her neck. She turned to him, and stopped his lips with a kiss, despite that her dress was still half laced.
"Don't you dare," she breathed next to his ear. "You haven't been locked away in Gwaren for nearly a year waiting for this." Nearly a year of lonely dinners by herself, of spending her time reading and writing and pacing the gardens. A year of warm baths, and a hand that tired far too fast. He would not deny her now. He couldn't.
"It's only our first time once," Cailan said, nibbling at her earlobe, his hands brushing over her hips as she gasped and wriggled against him.
"But you've been here," Anora said with a whimper. He'd undoubtedly had his whores and scullery maids, and everyone else he used to distract himself when she was away. "You haven't had to spend all this time alone."
"I haven't had anyone since you arrived last week," he said, his hands still moving over her body in a way that was all the more frustrating in that he was touching cloth rather than her. "I've missed you. I've saved myself for you all this week. And will from now on, since we'll never be apart again."
"Mmmm," Anora said, leaning into him to taste the warm flesh of his neck. "You think you'll keep that promise even when I'm big with a child, or old and grey?"
"You'll be gorgeous even then," Cailan said, his hands running over her, his eyes staring directly into hers. "Although I hope that it'll take a while. Give us the perfect excuse to do this again and again and again."
"Don't jinx us!" Anora said, giggling into his neck. "We can do this a thousand times more when we try for our second and third."
Cailan moaned as she kissed just under his chin. "Thousands? I'm hoping for millions. You know that I'll never want to leave my bed as long as you're in it. Oh, Maker, Anora, I've missed you so much."
She'd missed him too. More than she could say in words. She slid her hand down his chest to his groin, hoping she could express her longing in a different way.
Just as she reached her target, Cailan stopped her hand. "I told you that I wanted to make this last," he said, holding her hand in his and kissing it, his mouth closing around each of her fingers, his tongue caressing them, his teeth softly biting them.
"Make it last tomorrow," Anora said, as she drew her hand over his face. "Now get me out of my dress before we ruin it."
She turned, and let him work at the rest of the laces. She stepped out of it, then began working at the toggles of his doublet, as she kissed his lips again and again. She pulled the doublet off, as soon as the clasps were undone, and ran her hands over his chest, her fingers threading through the hair.
"I finally have you now," she said, kissing him in the hollow of his neck. On his collar bone. By his ear. Her breasts pressed against his chest, his hands sliding up and down her back, cupping her rear, playing at the edge of her smalls. Then his fingers were inside them, pushing them down her legs. She stepped away from him and out of them, and Cailan used this as a chance to kick off his own hose and shoes, to shrug the doublet off his shoulders. Then came towards her, and wrapped his arms around her. She kissed his lips, pushing hard enough that she knew her mouth was likely to bruise, and didn't care. She no longer needed to explain what she and Cailan were doing alone, to make up excuses and silly stories. His arms wrapped tight around her, and he broke the kiss just long enough to say, "Let's get you into bed."
DA:O
It had only been a week, Anora told herself, as she asked a chambermaid to bring her linen scraps. Only a week. Likely they had missed her most fertile period, and it would catch next month. But still it was a disappointment. She found herself giggling a little, with an odd bit of hysteria. Had she known that she could not conceive a mere week prior to the start of her cycle, she would have timed things appropriately and had Cailan long ago.
Still, she supposed that this, at least, gave her a week to concentrate. On learning to rule the kingdom. On pouring through books on finance and trade. Perhaps in finally having a few hours to herself, without Cailan endlessly kissing her, touching her, and pleading with her to let him have her again and again. It was certainly a pleasurable enough duty. But one she would prefer to balance with others. Anora placed the bits of linen in her smalls, and left to get back to work.
DA:O
"Don't worry," Cailan said, sitting beside her on the window seat. "It's only been a month."
A month in which they'd tried every single night, most mornings, and some afternoons. A month in which there was no possibility that they had missed the correct window of time.
"We tried so hard, though," Anora said, feeling failure rise within her like bile.
"We'll just have to try harder next month, then," Cailan said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his lap. Anora glanced about the library before relaxing into him.
"How much harder are we supposed to try?" Anora asked. She already found it hard to get much of anything done, considering how much of her time was consumed with this task.
"If I had my choice, I'd never let you leave my arms," Cailan said, kissing her on the forehead. She tilted her head back to stare up at him, and he leaned over to kiss her on the lips. "Don't tell me that you're not looking forward to all the work we'll have to do next month, to make up for missing it this time."
"I'm counting the days," Anora said, smiling as his arms tightened about her. If she was as regular as usual, it would be four more. Four more days of lying chastely beside him. Four more days of rest and relaxation and work.
DA:O
Anora sat back in her chair, trying to think her way through the problem. The landowners had declared that they would save their forests for hunting, likely in a ploy to force the carpenters to pay them more for wood. Which had infuriated the carpenters, and brought all building to a halt. It was a normal trade dispute, and she was well within her rights to tell them to settle it between themselves. In fact, any intervention would likely do nothing more than irritate both sides. But it annoyed her to no end that she was losing valuable tax dollars over something so patently stupid. And as both sides had come to her for aide, it was now a matter for the Crown to decide, even if the decision of the Crown was to tell them both to knock it off and leave her alone.
No answer came to mind immediately, so she decided to fantasize about beheading the carpenter guild's leader and a few of the landowners. She had all of their heads neatly lined up on pikes around the city wall when the door opened and Cailan entered. He walked behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently, before leaning over to kiss her.
"Done yet?" he asked between kisses. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," Anora said. Although her mind continued running back to possible compromise solutions. "I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Promise?" Cailan said. Before he leaned over to kiss her again, this time running his hands down the front of her gown, squeezing at her breasts. "Our heir isn't going to conceive himself, you know."
Their heir was not going to be conceived at all, at the rate they were going. Besides, it was only three days after her last course. There was really no point even in trying at this date, according to her midwife.
"I'll be there soon," Anora said. As soon as she was done with this, anyway. And perhaps done with solving another problem, after this one was taken care of.
"I'll be waiting," Cailan said. Which he might be. If no one happened to drop by and invite him to a tavern, where he'd stay until he returned to their bed late at night, smelling of drink.
She nodded at him, and he left her. She turned her mind back to the task, trying to concentrate on a solution for the problem. Perhaps she could offer the royal forests up for hunting? Or allow fallen trees to be logged, as far in as Dalish territory? That could be enough to scare the landowners into at least negotiating a reasonable price for their wood. She smiled. It might not be enough in and of itself, but Anora was confident that this idea, when brought to both parties, could lead to a solution.
DA:O
Anora signed her name to the letter and picked up the next one. Due to Maric's untimely death, she had been forced to take on duties that she had not entirely felt ready for since the start of her marriage. Still, she enjoyed it. Every time she managed to negotiate an acceptable compromise, to charm a particularly recalcitrant nobleman, or to warn away a potential threat, she inwardly smiled. It was one thing she always succeeded at.
But, this particular problem, there was no easy way around it. Certainly, she could bring it to the attention of the Landsmeet, but most likely, they too would insist that what Vaughan did in his father's Arling was his father's concern, not hers. And that any problems should be brought through the proper channels. Still, Anora hoped for a better resolution. Perhaps she would discuss the issue with her father. He often had ideas for how to solve problems, even if this one was likely to involve removing Vaughan's head from his shoulders.
Anora smiled at the thought as her new lady-in-waiting, Erlina, opened the door.
"Am I disturbing you?" Erlina asked, closing the door behind her.
"Not at all," Anora said. She needed a distraction from the problem that was Vaughan.
"It's just…" Erlina's fingers intertwined. "I've received some startling news from the Tower Circle."
"Please tell me that this is not about the Libertarians," Anora said. Every time they did something, the Chantry more loudly demanded more control, and every time the Chantry cracked down on the mages, a few were lost, weakening the country's defenses. She wondered why both sides couldn't just accept the inevitable and get on with it.
"No, nothing political," Erlina said.
What about the Tower Circle could be apolitical?
"Well, what is it, then?" Anora asked.
"It's about the King."
Anora's breath caught. Had Cailan found a way to get himself killed? Managed to drown in the lake on the way over, or gotten into a brawl with a templar? She forced herself to relax. Most likely, he had just done something stupid, such as intervened when an apprentice mage was being disciplined. She could clean up that mess well enough with a few gifts and a neatly worded apology.
"What about him?"
"He was caught," Erlina said, then paused, as if searching for the right word. "Fornicating with one of the apprentices."
"What?" Anora demanded, before forcing herself to take a breath. This was not so bad. Truly, it was not so bad. Mages did not take such things seriously, so there'd be little need to sooth ruffled feathers. Aside from her wounded pride, truly, there was no harm done. Unless…
"Which apprentice?" she asked.
"She goes by Surana. Neria is the first name, I think."
Anora nodded, drawing another deep breath. An elf, then? Her mind turned as she thought of the letter she had just read, and suppressed a shudder. But no, it was nothing like that, was it?
"Have her watched," Anora said, drawing a fresh notebook from a drawer. "If she shows any signs of conception, I must be the first to know."
Erlina nodded. "Mages take precautions."
"Then in a few months, we can stop worrying about her," Anora said, drawing a deep breath, and writing the name and an approximate date in a column in her journal. "But until then, I want all news about the mage."
"I understand, your majesty."
DA:O
Anora opened her book and write, "Lydia Shepard, of Dragon's Peak, red haired, eighteen", and dated it, then went to the line above and, crossed out "Isabella Smith". It was merely a line in a ledger, she told herself. A different type of accounting than balancing the budget, true, but a sort, nonetheless. She was good with accounting, and would excel at this type every bit as much as she had succeeded in balancing the country's budget.
None of the women had yet conceived, although one had worried her when she missed a course, just for Anora to learn later that she had always been irregular and had resumed next month as though nothing had happened. Then there were the two who had vanished, although Anora worried less about them, seeing as it seemed unlikely that either would succeed when dozens of their kind lay as barren as her.
Or perhaps not so barren. More than a few had found other lovers, and now had lovely children to love and play with, to raise and adore, outside of the time they needed to be tracked. Or within the time, but with births so early or late that it made the timing impossible from what Anora knew of her husband's behavior. One was a blonde serving maid in the castle with a handsome, swarthy son that she bounced on her hip and regularly spoke nonsense to. Every time Anora saw them, she had to glance away.
But she wouldn't think of that, of the women or the children or the fates of what had come before and after. They were just names and numbers. There was nothing more to them. She regarded the dates on the top lines, did a quick calculation, and eliminated those too distant to be plausible. Just facts, she thought to herself. Data in a book, no more interesting than the information in her trade journal or her list of judicial decisions. She drew a breath, and closed it. Enough of that for now. Then she withdrew a letter from her pile, and smiled to see that Empress Celene had already replied to her message, and was delighted to consider a treaty of mutual defense between the two nations. It might go nowhere. But it was a beginning to something that might lead to a better future for Ferelden.
DA:O
"It's the wrong time of the month," Anora said, as Cailan reached to her from across their bed.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," he told her. She knew that if she glanced at him that his eyes would be sad, his lips in a pout. "I might die in battle. Or be horribly wounded. And then how would you feel?"
"I'm sure you'll be fine," Anora said, although she relented and leaned over to kiss him. "Just stay beside my father. He'll keep you safe." He drew her to him, and she decided that perhaps this would be worth exhaustion and sore muscles tomorrow, even if there was no possibility of any other outcome from this evening. After all, he would be gone for several months at Ostagar. And though he would likely sport with a dozen camp followers, she would sleep alone until he returned.
"I'd rather stay beside you," Cailan said, as he pulled her over his chest, his hands stroking her back, pulling up her shift to touch bare skin. "You know that I love you."
He certainly said it often enough. "I'll miss you too," Anora said, sighing as he kissed at a particularly sensitive spot on her throat. She shifted so that she was more comfortable, looking down at his face. "Keep safe, husband."
He answered by circling his arms around her, hard enough that his embrace crushed her against his body. Gripping her to him as he rained kisses down her face, neck, breasts. Shifting his body against hers as he drew her closer. Then let her pull away after he had reached his completion.
He held her in his arms that night, despite that Anora had told him that she found it more comfortable to sleep apart. Still he held her, close enough that she could hear each of his breaths. It had to be insomnia, she thought, that made it so hard to sleep. That made even that intake of air so loud against her ear. She closed her eyes, and tried to relax, just to waken from a shallow dream, wondering why the sound she thought she heard Cailan making in his sleep reminded her of someone crying.