I.
A Golden King
To a young lady of the country, Denerim – Ferelden's largest and most exciting city – was most definitely a better change of pace than Highever. The royal palace of Denerim was a sight to behold; tapestries decorated any visible walls with the great epics: Andraste's rally, her downfall and death all sprawled along the great chambers alongside King Calenhad's unification of Ferelden all sewn by the Sisters of the Chantry with love and reverence.
Great beams of sunlight streamed through the huge stained glass windows depicting stories as well; on one, the story of Garahel, the elf who defeated the darkspawn so very long ago. His golden sword held high above his handsomely distorted features, gleaming and lit up like a true hero. Banners fluttered above the heads of the nobles, slowly and languidly identifying all who were in residence at the palace; the Howes banner, a bear afoot on a field of both gold and silver hung beside the Couslands banner of a silver laurel fluttering on a field of royal blue, the various Banns' own banners hung all along the rafters, endless and all different, all in accordance to whom was here to represent the noble families of Ferelden's gentry..
Many of Ferelden's noble houses were here to celebrate the King's forty-first birthday; his great friend and ally, General Loghain Mac Tir was present, as too was his banner which shifted in the breeze beside the King's own banner, a fearsome green dragon rampant on a field of black. The Theirin banner was the biggest and most intricate, hung above the throne in the great hall; two golden lions rampant in adverse to one another on a field of gold and silver.
Melody Cousland's green eyes peered up at the banner and tugged on her father's richly sewn sleeve without looking away from the beautiful emblem of the King's house. Teyrn Bryce Cousland bent down a little to listen to his girl's chatter; he gazed upon the bairne fondly and smiled softly as her gentle voice uttered, like the coo of a dove amongst the hustle of the hall;
"Papa, there are two lions on the King's banner..." Her eyes were still on the rich fabric.
"Yes, Pup. What of it?" He asked not unkindly, his hand coming up to rest protectively on her shoulder; the little girl's frown was curious; "But there is only one king...why two lions fighting?" The Teyrn frowned deeply and pondered his twelve-year-old daughter's question a moment before shrugging lightly and chuckling,
"What makes you think they're fighting, Pup?"
"They're up on their hind legs," She pointed at the banner and went on. "They've both got their paws in the air, clawing at the other and they've got their tongues out...like the dogs in the kennels that were sick, d'you remember, Papa?" The Teyrn nodded, looking solemn as he eyed the banner;
"Aye, Pup...I remember." His voice was growing stern as he looked down at his daughter.
"They remind me of those lions...they look very sick and angry."
The girl's father was cut off as the Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon Guerrin, appeared from the commotion; his black beard was greying slightly in accordance with Bryce's and the Teyrn smiled a wrinkle-inducing grin and stood to his full height. He walked over proudly, his age not degrading him even slightly and embraced his old friend and comrade.
"Bryce! Maker, son, you're looking as old as I am!" The Arl exclaimed good-naturedly.
Beside the Arl was a lady, golden-haired; she was extremely beautiful with compassionate blue eyes and full lips. She carried herself like a true obedient wife and ducked her head and averted her eyes; Melody looked from this woman to her own mother and noted straight away their differences. Lady Eleanor Cousland stepped onwards, past her husband who was still joshing with Arl Eamon and extended a smooth hand to the Arlessa, Isolde – Arl Eamon's Orlesian bride – and wished her well, asking after the health of her baby which was quickening in her belly at that very moment.
"We are hoping for a lad, my lady." The Arl explained as he gently placed a hand on his wife's loosely laced stomacher; so tenderly and so careful was he with his wife, Melody watched curiously as the younger lady gazed lovingly into her husband's eyes and placed her own tiny hand over his large calloused, soldier's hand. They seemed to be very much in love; Melody felt a desire to be a wife like Isolde, loved and treated with gentle care by her husband, just as she was.
"I hope the Maker grants you a son, Eamon." Lady Cousland said graciously. Suddenly one of her dark eyebrows rose; "And speaking of sons, Bryce, where is ours?" The Teyrn turned and peered around furtively; "Flames! Boy's run off again. He and Cailan have been thicker'n thieves the last few days. I'll send Old Rod to track them down. Excuse me, my love."
The Teyrn quickly pecked his wife's cheek and patted Melody's head before dashing off. Instinctively Melody pressed into her mother's flank and became shy around the Arl and his wife. Noticing her, the Arl bent to his knee and said kindly with a gentle smile;
"And who is this? Not Bryce's daughter, surely! Far too pretty, you must be Eleanor's sister."
Lady Cousland laughed demurely and presented her daughter to the Arl. Or she tried to.
"D-darling," She began trying to gently unclasp Melody's grip around her leg. "This is the Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon Guerrin and this is his lovely wife, the Lady Isolde. Won't you be courteous and greet them?" The Arl was still knelt, his wife's hand on his shoulder.
Melody gulped and stepped forward, trying to emulate her mother's grace and elegance but feared she looked foolish. The Arl's eyes were twinkling; he looked rather reminiscent, nostalgic even and eyed the girl before him who dropped an impeccable curtsy, one which he was sure the girl had practiced time and time again;
"Good day to you, my lord and lady; I will pray to the Maker for the safe arrival of your baby boy and may Andraste smile on you both."
"Remarkable," The Arl said with a wry grin, "You are the very picture of your dear mother at her age and I thank you for your prayers, sweet child. My wife and I appreciate them beyond measure." Lady Cousland beamed at the girl, who returned to her side quickly and felt the familiar comfort of warmth. "Is your brother here, Eamon?" Asked Lady Cousland and the Arl shook his dark head,
"Nay, Eleanor. I left him in Redcliffe, he is to inherit the Bann of Rainisfere, and he is honing his skills in my own castle until I deem him ready to take on the responsibility. He's a good lad though, he'll get there eventually." Lady Cousland bowed her head and smiled warmly, "Yes, when Teagan warded with us for a year, he and Fergus became fast friends."
The Arl's smile was genuine at the thought of his younger brother, he had only him left and it was evident in the pride radiated that the Arl still clearly held his younger sister's death close to his heart. Melody saw the grief play on the Arl's ageing face, he missed Rowan deeply and her sudden death not a year ago was felt as keenly as a dagger between his ribs. Without thinking, Melody left her mother's leg and approached the Arl; tentatively she placed her little hand on his sleeve and said very sincerely;
"We, all of us miss your sister, the Queen, my lord. I am sure that Teagan shall be a very just and much-loved Bann of his people just as you yourself are, ser."
Arl Eamon's blue eyes glazed a little and he bowed his head, his wife eyed the child suspiciously and came to her husband's side and placed her hand in his which he squeezed to compose himself. Lady Cousland came forward, resting her hands on her daughter's shoulders, she looked slightly put off by her daughter's mislead act of sympathy and threw an apologetic look to the Arl who shook his head and waved both women away. Kneeling again, he beckoned the child over. Melody turned a look to her mother, one of slight panic, but the Teyrna nodded warmly and let her go, gently pushing her towards the Arl.
Melody stood before Arl Eamon, both hands behind her back, her posture trembling a little in her fine garments. Eamon regarded her for what she was, a little girl who sought to comfort a grieving old man. He smiled again at her and outstretched a hand, which in it she placed hers and the Arl said;
"I thank you for your sympathies; you are a little lady certainly. You are indeed your father's daughter to show such compassion. Your beauty of look and soul is undeniably your parents' both and it speaks well of them for you to comfort an old man."
Melody smiled sheepishly a true blush colouring her milky skin. She bowed her head and thanked the Arl graciously just as her mother would want her to and returned to her side. The Arl bade them farewell just as a commotion was building at the front of the hall, the Teyrna fretted to herself;
"Oh, where is your father? We cannot present ourselves to the King without him present..."
Melody frowned, it was unlike her mother to wait on her husband, if Lady Eleanor had business she would conduct on her own then that was just that, Teyrn Bryce usually had no say in the matter when it came to his unbearably headstrong – if extremely loving – wife.
"I hope he's found your brother," She said quietly to Melody who tugged her sleeve.
"Mother, there they both are – they're talking to somebody." Lady Cousland followed her daughter's pointed finger and sighed; relief. She motioned for Melody to follow her as she made her way towards her son and husband.
Melody beamed at Fergus who smiled back and waved, he was a young lad of fifteen-years-old, learning swords and archery, riding and jousting. He was to be a soldier and the next Teyrn of Highever. Melody and he were particularly close and she could not wait to ask him about the Princess.
Melody had a mind to meet her, she had heard so much of the Princess's grace and beauty; she wished to see her and if the Maker was willing, possibly learn from her. There was no need however; Melody blanched and stumbled slightly, beside her father was a tall man.
Father was a tall man to Melody, but this golden-haired goliath was huge, he towered over the small circle gathered around him. He was adorned in gold-plated armour which shone so bright and winked so brilliantly at Melody she had to blink the spots away. His hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, his face was shaven save for a dark bronzy goatee which traced around his smiling lips, his face which was scored little by age was perfect. His eyes were the colour of polished sapphires underneath a brow of gold; he was the most beautiful man Melody had ever seen in her whole life. She was entranced.
Hearing the girl stumble, Lady Eleanor peered back and saw her dark-haired daughter in a heap on the floor; she gasped and went to her side and helped the disgruntled girl to her feet, wiping her down and asking if she was alright as she did so. Melody nodded vacantly, her eyes still enthralled by the man all in gold; she watched him as he noticed the commotion she had just made and their eyes locked. Melody nearly fainted and shook her head, only just hearing her mother;
"What? Oh, yes...Yes, Mother I'm fine...I just seemed to trip and...Fall in front of all these people..."
Her face flamed with shame and embarrassment. Suddenly there was a shout from one of the nobles in the room; "Is she the fool?!" Melody's cheeks surged even hotter as some of the people in the room began to laugh, including a beautiful girl who was stood beside a tired looking man – Melody knew straight away that it was the Princess. She flushed with horror and tried to laugh too, catching her brother's eye; she saw the pity in Fergus' expression.
Melody tried to shake off her mother's hand so she could flee until suddenly the man adorned all in gold held up a gauntleted hand and silenced the laughter in the hall. The noise died and Lady Cousland backed away from her daughter as he strode towards Melody and stood before the blushing girl;
"Gents, this girl is no fool,"
He began grandly, casting his lovely eyes all across the room. Melody spied her father smiling at her; he winked and nodded slightly; Melody returned her attention to the man and listened as he said,
"It is I who is the fool. Ferelden is governed by a fool who would blind a young lass as she made her way over to her father's side." He turned his attention to her and bowed very solemnly and offered her his hand;
"I should have refrained from standing too close to that window, my lady. I fear the glare from this blasted breastplate may have momentarily blinded you, causing you to fall. I am very sorry."
Melody swayed; everyone was looking at them. But all that she could see was this man before her; he had redirected the laughter and now all of the nobles were chuckling at his jest and no longer at her clumsiness, but he was looking at her and smiling knowingly. She knew then exactly who this man was and the realisation nearly made her choke and vomit from humiliation. King Maric grinned wryly and cautioned her;
"I can save you from but one fall, young lady. Nary two, so keep your feet, little soldier. This business will hopefully be over soon. Just smile."
So she did, Melody; strengthened by the King's own smile managed a weak grin and laughed rather prettily along with the rest of the hall. She noticed however, the Princess's ice-blue eyes on her, regarding her, scrutinising and hard. Melody felt the heat of jealousy radiate from the blonde girl and shirked, it seemed Anora had found no love for the young Cousland.
-ooo-
The Princess's gardens which had been given to Loghain's only daughter, Princess Anora were beautiful. The flowers which came in each and every colour were all in bloom, roses, orchids, honeysuckle and violets all on one bush blossomed and dripped pollen, the hum of bees accompanied the beautiful buds.
The Princess was sitting demurely with her gaggle of young ladies, all giggling and throwing cautious – and beckoning – looks to the boys who were at the opposite end of the garden. Melody sat on one of the stone benches underneath the high wall which ran around the place, out of the sun; she sat with her eyes squinting in the middle of both boys and girls.
Fergus appeared before her and teased; "Where's my gift?" Melody peered up and said confused; "Pardon, Brother?" Fergus laughed and exclaimed, "From your trip! Where's my gift?!" Melody flushed and turned away from him, "Oh, go away! I already made myself look the fool; I don't need you making it worse."
"Aww, Sister. I know it was embarrassing but the King saved you, didn't he?" Melody brightened at the mention of the King and smiled quite dreamily; "He is magnificent, isn't he?" She gushed and Fergus rubbed the back of his neck; "Well...yes. He drove out the Orlesians, he's commanded armies and led our land out of occupation and freed us all. So, yes; he is rather magnificent."
"Uh...yes. That's what I meant..." Melody said weakly making Fergus eye her more closely.
"Oho! Did my little sister fall head over heels as well as on her arse?!"
"Shut up!"
"You did!" Fergus exclaimed before dissolving into a fit of laughter at her burning face.
"Oh, sweet sister," He began as he sat down beside her in the shade; "Surely you'd be wanting someone your own age? The King is a legend but he's a man. An old man."
"He's not an old man," Melody defended him and said wistfully; "He's...he's...marvellous and very noble, he did not have to come to my aid like that but he did. I doubt any man could say they were as grand and handsome as he at their age – you included. You'll be a weathered old boot by thirty."
At that her brother laughed throatily and slapped his knee. Melody smothered a giggle as a few of the ladies over by the wall with the Princess began to peer over curiously at the dark-haired Couslands. Ignoring the girls making eyes at him, Fergus took his sister's hand and said comfortingly;
"I suppose it speaks well of you, Sister."
"What does?" Melody asked, her brow creasing and Fergus flashed their father's grin;
"The only man who can turn your head is a king."
-ooo-
For the next few days, Melody found herself constantly watching the King. He was breathtaking, celebrating his forty first year alive, he took the saddle, broke umpteen lances in the jousts showing his grace by shaking hands with losers and winners alike. He fought in the melee, beat down dozens of would-be combatants, his height and form was something to be admired. Melody was utterly fixated.
Oft, Fergus would elbow her sharply in the ribs to stop her from staring so wantonly but she honestly could not help herself. King Maric was just so grand, so golden and so unearthly; she could not command the willpower to make herself drag her eyes from him and his beauty. At the feasts, he would laugh, slapping his old war comrades – her father chief amongst them – the King was always very dutiful to the ladies too. If the night grew tedious with men's chatter of wars, tactics, weapons and horses the King would order music and the night would grow merry once again.
He gambled, drank and danced; he was a fun loving man but also one of policy, during the days; when his guests were enjoying his palace, he would disappear into his study for hours on end – those were the hardest parts for Melody, for he was not about to brighten the place up. However, when he emerged; light flooded the palace once again; it was almost as though the sun rose twice in a day.
As smitten as Melody was with the King; she could not help but to notice his son, Cailan. A strong boy of seventeen, Cailan was the image of his father – the unseasoned version, with less grace. He ignored the advances of his betrothed of forever, Anora. The Princess would grow frustrated with the Prince's loyalty to swords, bows and boyhood. She was slightly older, a girl of twenty, she wished for something concrete, something more meaningful from her child-husband but as long as Maric was on the throne, Melody knew that Cailan would not grow up as the self-proclaimed Princess wished.
All too soon their visit was at an end, the two-week revels had to come to an end at one point. It seemed like it had all been a dream and before Melody knew what was happening, she was packed up and set in a litter; her brother ridden alongside her on his strong roan. The Couslands rode northward along with the Howes of Amaranthine, they were the Teyrn's Banns – men under his protection and command, but with authority and power of their own. Melody was dreaded to find that she was stuck in a litter with Arl Howe's family.
His youngest son, Thomas, eyed her with what she could only describe was disdain, his sister; Delilah was no better, sneering and curling her nose whenever Melody even glanced her way. Arl Howe's wife – whose name Melody did not know – was all but mute. When Lady Eleanor checked in the litter to make sure her daughter was alright, Melody pleaded to be allowed to travel the rest of the journey in the saddle but her mother refused and urged her daughter to be courteous;
"It won't be for long, darling. You should get to know Thomas – he's a...lovely lad." She lied weakly.
Melody frowned and heard her mother mutter quietly, "If only you could have met Nathaniel, he's the most talkative of the lot – I think you'd like him, too." When she saw her daughter eye her; she smiled and kissed her forehead,
"You must learn to be tolerant, my dear. These boys and girls will be your Banns and ladies in waiting when you come of age. You should make friends now. Bonds that'll last until the end of time."
Dourly, Melody nodded. There was no point arguing and resigned herself to a quiet trip. The only one bright spot was that when she went to sleep every night she could dream of the King coming to her rescue once again making her smile.