The ring of steel against steel reverberated across the sandy floor of the melee circle. Gasps from the crowd alternated with roaring cheers as the combatants exchanged blows. The challengers would break apart, circle, and then lash out again as they each sought a weakness in the other.
"Oh well done, Fergus!" Arl Eamon chortled and nodded appreciatively to Teyrn Bryce Cousland, the father of one of the combatants. The teyrn squinted critically at his first born, but he too nodded his head to acknowledge his son's strike.
A young woman in a grey silk gown sat to the teryn's right. She sniffed derisively and muttered a comment under her breath.
"What was that, pup? Didn't quite hear you," the teyrn's eyes twinkled as he drew her into the conversation.
"I said his shield was too low," the young woman spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the crowd. The bright Ferelden spring sun shimmered against her golden hair where it coiled around her head in a braided coif.
"Bann Estan's son should have exploited that, but he over compensated his parry," she continued with another sniff, "I would have done better."
"Sibling rivalry at its finest," Bryce gave his daughter a fond smile and shrugged at Arl Eamon.
"Aye, she reminds me of my own sister," the Arl's eyes were warm and only carried a hint of sad regret.
"Elissa greatly admires Queen Rowan's feats," Bryce said respectfully, to which his daughter nodded solemnly.
Gasps and another cheer rose from the crowd as Bann Estan's son made a surprising comeback against Fergus Cousland. Further conversation was halted as the onlookers leaned forward to watch the battle.
Her eyes only half on the combatants, Elissa shifted so she could cross her legs – lady like, she reminded herself firmly, and loosely folded her arms across her breasts. Not enough to crush them, she recited her mother's practical advice, but not to seem like she was hiding them. It was just a place to put her arms on the uncomfortable bench. She sat on a cushion, as did most of the nobles, but it still grew tiresome after a time. Her gaze shifted idly around the gallery where she sat with her father. As one of the two Teyrns left in Ferelden, Bryce had seating of his choice in King Maric's royal gallery. Maric and Bryce were good friends and had been since the Rebellions that freed Ferelden from Orlais' occupation decades before. As such Bryce could have chosen to sit right next to the king's seat, but he chose instead to sit a few spaces away. The teyrn felt that Eamon and the arl's younger brother Teagon should sit closer to the king, as Maric's late wife was their sister.
The argument was mute in Elissa's mind; the king wasn't even present at the melee. He likely wouldn't show up until later in the bouts, when the champions of the various challenges fought. A king had more to worry about than sitting through days of qualifying trials before the grand finales. The king's son on the other hand, was a completely different story. Prince Cailan sat to the left of his father's chair. He was cheering mightily right along with the crowd. There was little in the world to trouble the young prince and he relished the entertainment. As Elissa's eyes continued to scan the box she caught the eye of Lady Anora Mac Tire, daughter of Teyrn Loghain, Maric's closest friend and adviser. She was also Cailan's betrothed, a fact she made sure Elissa kept firmly in mind. Elissa fixed a bored expression on her face and nodded a small acknowledgement of her peer. Anora returned the nod and allowed the smallest smile to touch her lips. She also very casually reached out to grip her betrothed's hand in a silent signal of superiority.
Elissa didn't acknowledge the gesture, simply allowed her gaze to roam across the rest of the crowd until it returned to the combatants just as her brother bulled his opponent over, holding his sword to the young man's throat. Cheers rose through the crowd, and Elissa rose to her feet to applaud along with her father. She didn't try to hide a proud grin when her brother reached down to assist his vanquished foe up. They slapped each other on the back good naturedly and the two raised their swords to resounding roars of the crowd. The men marched out of the sand ring side by side and servants rushed in to prepare for the next event.
"Your brother fought well, Lady Elissa," a young noble maiden smiled winningly up at Elissa. She returned the girl's smile politely and readied herself for the expected conclusion of the conversation she'd had with a dozen other ladies that night.
"Lord Fergus puts great stock in his martial prowess, Lady Elaina," the teyrn's daughter murmured into her wine goblet.
"Indeed, I couldn't help but notice that. My lord father also noticed," the girl continued brightly, a hand fluttering lazily in the direction of her lord father, a gesture Elissa was expected to follow. She would expect Elissa to acknowledge her family's nobility, they would exchange pleasantries that would lead to the girl seeking an invitation to Highever as Elissa's guest so that Elaina would have freedom to harass Fergus for several weeks.
"You must excuse me, Lady Elaina," Elissa suddenly whispered conspiratorially, lifting a hand to her bodice and feigning a wild eyed look, "I do believe I see Arl Stenton's son coming this way. Could you please distract him for me? He's been pursuing me relentlessly all evening."
"What? Oh my! Of course, my lady," Elaina dipped a quick curtsey and swirled elegantly to address Elissa's fabricated foe. Elissa smiled her thanks and then disappeared into the crowds mingling aimlessly before supper with King Maric and the royal family.
Elissa kept a pleasant smile plastered on her face as she wove through the crowd. She stopped to exchange pleasantries with several of the nobles. Few were peers, which meant she had to deal with a great deal of flattery from nobles seeking Highever's favor. She drifted purposefully until she finally reached a knot of young nobles near her age. Her brother Fergus was among them, laughing and smiling brightly as he recounted his victory to the cheers of the men and fluttering lashes of the ladies.
"I'm getting very tired of fending off marriage bait for you," Elissa murmured when he finally finished his most recent retelling. She took delicate sip from her wine and eyed him meaningfully over the rim of the crystal goblet.
"I'm eternally grateful for your patience, little sister," Fergus grinned, making the neatly trimmed beard that framed his mouth stretch. His dark chestnut hair, so much darker than his sister's golden locks, gleamed in the light of dozens of braziers and candelabras.
"This would have been much more pleasant if you'd just announced your engagement before we left Highever," she pointed out with a meaningful glance toward the young maids making eyes at Fergus.
"Yes well, you know the negotiations aren't done," he shrugged helplessly, a touch of frustration pulling his mouth down into a frown. His impending marriage was a love match, but their father was one of the most powerful nobles in Ferelden and his bride was from a fantastically rich merchant family in Antiva. There would be no running off to elope for the young couple.
"Be glad they're chasing me," Fergus continued with an impish grin, "It's a distraction from pursuing you."
Elissa made an indelicate sound and took a long drink from her wine, upending the glass in a way that would have offended their mother. Her grim expression had her brother laughing, his head thrown back. That drew further attention from the knot of young nobles, who pulled him back into their conversation. Elissa excused herself and made her way to the balcony that stretched one length of the great hall in the King's palace. She accepted a fresh glass of wine from a passing servant before stepping outside into the cool fresh air. More than a few nobles were outside seeking refreshment from the stifling great hall.
Those nobles included her father, mother, Arl Eamon, his brother Teagon, and King Maric. Elissa paused her sedate walk and studied the group. They were smiling and laughing at something the King had said. It was genuine laughter shared among friends rather than the tittering mirth of insincere nobles. Maric stood much taller than anyone else in the group. Even Arl Eamon, the tallest after the king, only stood just a bit above Maric's shoulders.
The King's famously gold mane of hair was pulled back at his temples and tied in a plait at the back of his head. Silver streaked back from his temples and sprinkled his beard, but other than that there was little to indicate the King was well into his fourth decade. His bright blue eyes sparkled, and his face was unlined save for a few laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. He had forgone his typical gold inlaid silverite armor in favor of a green doublet with gold embroidery. In all, King Maric was the epitome of what anyone with an imagination thought a king should be.
Elissa resumed her sedate pace and quietly stepped up to her mother's side. The Teryna gave her daughter a small smile and stepped out of the circle entertaining the King.
"Everything all right, my dear?" Teyrna Eleanor was still stunningly beautiful, at least in Elissa's eyes. Her blond hair had settled into a steel grey and there were perhaps a few more lines around her pretty mouth, but the woman still stood tall with a lovely figure that made younger women envious. Most failed to realize the teyrna's physique was from rigorous martial training that Elissa's mother maintained despite years of peace in Ferelden.
"I'm going to murder the next insipid noble maid that asks me to invite her to Highever," Elissa murmured in a soft aside to her mother.
Eleanor gave her daughter a sympathetic hug and her eyes twinkled, "Any young noble gentlemen seeking such an invitation as well?"
It took a heroic effort on Elissa's part not to make an indelicate sound, "Several, but the only one I would consider would be Bann Thomas' son."
Eleanor quirked an eyebrow, "He's nine, Elissa."
"Exactly," Elissa took a serene drink from her wine.