Elissa Cousland was not a woman to lie abed when there was work to be done. Usually she was up just after the servants, hurrying to squeeze in an hour of practice at the archery butts before the true work of the day began. There was an endless round of tasks to complete: helping her father with the daily running of the teyrnir, keeping her sword skills sharp with Fergus and attending the painfully dull salons her mother held. If she didn't get up with the sun she would have no time to herself at all.
This morning was different. She felt languorous and indolent, unwilling to give up her soft mattress and warm bed sheets. The drapes hadn't been closed properly and a shaft of sunlight fell over her bare stomach, warming her skin pleasantly. Something niggled at the edge of her awareness, a sense that things weren't quite as they should be. She pushed the feeling away to be examined later. Whatever was wrong, it could wait until after breakfast.
She stretched slowly, luxuriously, and froze as her fingers brushed against bare skin. Snatching her hand back, she held it against her chest and felt the wild thumping of her heart. Shocked, she hesitated only a second before reaching under the bed, frantically groping for the dagger that was usually hidden there. Her scrabbling fingers found nothing. Sword, she thought. Even when she was sleeping she always kept it nearby in case of an emergency. She had already thrown herself out of bed to search for it when her sleep muddled mind finally caught up.
This was not her room; this was not even her home. She was miles away from Highever and her family, newly married to a man she knew only through reputation. She was no longer Lady Elissa Cousland; she was Teyrna Elissa Mac Tir.
Holding her trembling hands at her side, she tried to breathe evenly. Silently she cursed her own stupidity. She had drunk a little too much wine the night before to calm her nerves, and now she was paying the price with a sluggish mind. As her initial fear wore off she began to shiver. It had been warm enough in bed, but standing naked on cold flagstones raised goose bumps along her arms and legs.
She slipped back into bed, forcibly pushing away the sudden and insane temptation to warm her cold feet on her new husband. She glanced at Loghain from the corner of her eyes, half expecting to find him awake and watching her antics with a confused frown. His eyes were still shut, his breathing deep and even. Thankfully he had missed her display.
This, Elissa realised, was an excellent opportunity. She had known Loghain only a week before their wedding. They had met only in the main hall for meal times, where the noisy gossip from the castle's inhabitants made sure there was little chance to get to know each other. There had been no opportunity to study him. He was constantly alert, almost unnervingly so, and there was only so much she could learn from snatching glances through lowered eyelashes.
His face was half hidden by a pillow but his profile, with its crooked nose, was unmistakeably Loghain's. Despite his age the muscles of his back and arms were still hard. Clearly his role as the king's Councilor did not involve much sitting behind a desk. His skin was covered with a map of scars, hardly surprising considering his past. The uprising against the Orlesians was not history to Elissa. Her father had fought in the battles and she had grown up listening to his war stories. The tales were a living, breathing part of her family.
Realising that he was as naked as she was, Elissa blushed deeply. She had never been bashful around men before. From childhood she had been trained in combat alongside her brother and the household squires. She never would have learned to fight if she had been too timid to touch them. Not only had she been taught armed combat, she had learned how to defend herself when there was no weapon close at hand. She had thrown and received punches, grappled with boys a head taller than her and sent them tumbling into the dust.
This was different. She had certainly never taken any of the squires as a lover. During lessons they might attempt to throw her to the ground and touch their swords to her throat, but the moment they donned formal attire they treated her as a squire should a teyrn's daughter. She had never been this intimate with any man before. No one at Highever had been her social equal. In the whole kingdom the only marriageable man on an equal footing with her was Loghain. That was a large part of the reason she had accepted his offer when her parents informed her of it.
As if sensing her thoughts, he stirred and turned to face her. Elissa's lips twitched as she noticed that he frowned even in his sleep. She reached out to trace the line between his eyes but at the last moment pulled back, suddenly uncertain. Ridiculous. She was unclothed and sharing a bed with him, had lost her virginity to him only hours ago. Yet the small gesture somehow seemed too intimate. She had the feeling that it might be unwelcome, or at the very least unexpected, if he woke suddenly.
Folding her hands in her lap to keep them from wandering, she turned her attention to his – their – bedchamber. It was much as she had expected: simple. The furniture was not intricately decorated but well made. Only two things seemed out of place: a vase of wildflowers and an ornate tapestry depicting a scene she was certain came from a popular romantic legend. They seemed so out of character for such an unromantic man. Then again, it wasn't the first time Loghain had surprised her. Last night at the wedding banquet she had been served a plate of her favourite food, an Orlesian dish of delicately spiced chicken. She had never expected to find anything Orlesian in the Mac Tir household, and indeed there had been no other food in the room that was not staunchly Ferelden.
Perhaps, she thought with dawning realisation, the Orlesian cuisine, like the flowers and tapestry, were not meant for Loghain's pleasure. Perhaps they were intended to put a nervous young bride at ease.
"You're smiling," said Loghain.
Elissa started. There had been no sign that he was stirring. When she looked at him there was none of the bleariness of lingering sleep. He was wide awake and studying her closely.
"I am," she agreed mildly. "Is there a reason why I should not?"
"I had thought-" he stopped, seemed to reconsider, and instead said, "I am hardly an ideal husband for a young woman."
Her eyes widened in surprise. This was not how she had expected her new husband to greet her the morning after their wedding. She had known Loghain long enough to realise that he didn't sugar-coat his words, but his bluntness still caught her off guard from time to time. Collecting herself she said, "You'll forgive me for believing that I am a better judge of what young women consider ideal."
He raised his eyebrows. "I half expected that you would wish to return to Highever and plead with your parents to break the union."
"Perhaps it escaped your notice," she began, narrowing her eyes, "but I was not dragged here kicking and screaming by my mother. This marriage was my choice. True, it was made for practical rather than romantic reasons, but it doesn't follow that I must be unhappy. I hope you agree."
He watched her silently for a moment, a flicker of something – amusement? relief? – in his eyes. "I do," he said finally.
"Good," she said briskly. "Now that we're in agreement, perhaps we can get on with the day?"
This time there was a smile, small but unmistakeable, as he rose from the bed to fetch his clothes.
They dressed in silence, Elissa keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. She told herself it was ridiculous to be shy: Loghain was now her husband, they had spent the night together. She should be able to watch him dress without turning the colour of a beetroot. If she hadn't been so annoyed with the sudden, uncharacteristic attack of timidity she would have reasoned that her nervousness was not unfounded. For all that they were married, they were still practically strangers. While Loghain had been married before and had surely had lovers, this was entirely new to her.
Loghain seemed oblivious to her fumbling fingers and pink cheeks. His silence as he dressed was not awkward but thoughtful. Had Elissa not been studying the floor so intently, she would have seen the contemplative set of his brow and wondered what thoughts were forming behind those sharp eyes.
"You are with my seneschal this morning?" asked Loghain as he pulled on his boots.
Elissa nodded, relieved to be able to look directly at him again. She would be expected to run Gwaren and the household when Loghain returned to Denerim. As he would be occupied attending to the business of the teyrnir, the task of teaching her how to do this had fallen to the seneschal. It would not be difficult: she had been trained for it all her life. "Yes. He wants to show me the household accounts today."
"Good," he grunted. "I will be busy all morning, but perhaps you would like to join me this afternoon for a ride? It won't do any harm for you to become acquainted with the land. It is your new home." He watched her carefully, as if expecting the realisation that Gwaren was now her home would unleash a previously suppressed torrent of tears.
Instead she inclined her head and offered him a broad smile. "I would like that."
"Until this afternoon then," he said. Turning to leave, he was stopped by Elissa's hand on his arm. She placed her hand on his cheek and pressed her lips against his in a brief kiss. Before he had a chance to do more than blink in surprise, she had stepped away to smile up into his face.
"Until this afternoon," she agreed cheerfully, and brushed past him through the door without another word. She couldn't quite believe she had just done that. She almost hadn't, certain that he would pull away or push her from him. For the third time that morning she felt her cheeks heat up, but it was worth it for the knowledge that she had managed to shock Loghain into silence, even if only for a few seconds.