The hallway fell into an awkward silence; only the faint sounds of the minstrels playing and voices of the nobles coming from the next room could be heard. The Queen and the two Wardens paid them no mind as they were frozen where they stood, gaping in astonishment at the formerly dead King, who now stood before them looking very much alive with a touch of mischief in his eyes.
Maric still recognizable, no one voiced their doubt of his identity as there was little doubt in anyone's mind given his close appearance to his sons. Only difference was their eyes, each of his sons had received the color of their respective (and different) mother's.
Keeping his focus completely on the Queen, Maric found himself pleased with her reaction to his presence. Her wide eyes were filled with surprise and a flickering of unease. Her mouth hung open in a manner unbecoming of any proper Queen, and her already pale complexion was growing lighter by the moment. He had hoped for a bit of fainting, but this would simply have to do for now.
Maric cast a sly sideways glance at the son he knew he could have done better by, but choices and circumstances were what they were. Had he been expecting some kind of Anora like surprise; he was bound for disappointment on this front. If Alistair was at all surprised, he hid it well behind his glares of animosity. The look itself stirred within him a pang of pain in his heart. He did not blame his son for his feelings, however he had hoped for some interest or curiosity instead of contempt.
Quickly averting his eyes from Alistair and allowing his gaze to fall upon the woman standing beside his son. It was obvious by the way, they were holding each other's hands they were romantically involved. Despite her lack of hair, she was lovely; there was also a keen intelligence that sparkled in her eyes.
She was so familiar. He searched his memory for having met such a young woman. Granted she would have been much younger, before he was lost, her features and coloring did still tug at his mind. Her mystery and physical traits were hardly what had peaked Maric's interest in the woman; it was the devious smirk playing on corners her lips has she glanced between Anora and himself.
I don't even know who she is and already I like this woman. At least someone, aside from myself, could possibly find this whole situation unbelievably amusing. He smirked at his own thoughts as his attention went back to Anora.
"Before anyone asks the questions which are typically asked in such situation as these; I really would like to know who started the horrid rumor that I was…well dead?" Maric demanded in a matter of fact tone. For a time no one spoke, finally a thoughtful looking Elissa began to answer.
"I believe it was simply assumed after several years passed, and since not a soul had heard any news of your whereabouts or from you personally. As you know Ferelden could not be without a King for long, thus Cailan was named as such shortly after you were officially declared dead by the Chantry." She cleared her throat under the intensely watchful gaze of Maric. Her hands began to shake slightly as did her voice. "To answer your question, it was Loghain who brought news of your demise."
She grimaced nervously as she looked up at Alistair. Elissa's eyes searched his face looking for signs of his feelings. She knew how much he had always wanted a family,. Here was his father living, breathing and returned from the dead and yet Alistair made no move to look or even speak. Keeping his cold eyes directed at Maric, who was attempting to avoid eye contact with his son with little success.
Maric softened his gaze, giving this beautiful woman his full attention; smiling and with a warm tone he said softly. "Tis alright, I eventually got my answer. Thank you my dear girl. And you would be?"
'Oh Maker, please forgive my horrid manners!" Elissa stammered before smiling apologetically. He watched curiously as she fumbled nervously with her fingers, while a slight blush crept into her cheeks.
What a strangely adorable young lady. He thought to himself.
"I am Eli…I mean Arlessa Elissa Cousland." She cleared her throat and cringed slightly when referring to herself as "Arlessa." She was thankful when Maric chose to ignore her obvious discomfort.
"Cousland? You would be one of Bryce's children then? The youngest if I'm not mistaken, yes?" Elissa smiled sadly and nodded shortly. "Andraste's grace but I have not seen you since you were the size of a nug." Now that he looked at her again he clearly saw the inquisitively strong eyes of a Cousland.
Knowing there would be time for such talk later on, Maric decided to touch on the topic at hand. "It was Loghain was it? Ha! I should have known he would jump to such conclusion." He glanced around the group, then over the hall as if searching for his old friend. Having been his savior, friend, general, confidant, pain in his neck and a thousand other roles.
"Apparently the two of us need to sit down and have ourselves a pleasant little chat." Maric chortled as he looked from face to face. The chortles died within his throat as he noticed the sadness within Elissa's eyes. A small ball of fear started to grow within the pit of his stomach. His eyes searched the room again for his long time companion before looking back, dreading the question he knew he had to ask next. He looked to Anora, asking the obvious question: "Tell me what happened?"
"My father has been dead for nearly four years," Anora said dryly and evenly. It was the coldness in her eyes which unnerved Maric as the words left her lips. He had heard the rumors of the ice Queen of Ferelden upon his arrival. Even with those rumors in mind he was still a little shocked to find out they had been completely and utterly true. "While killing an Archdemon" She finished; allowing the smallest hint of sadness creep into her voice. Well perhaps she was not a total Ice Queen, but the chill and void within her was still shocking none the less.
Maric could do little to hide his shock. He had of course heard rumors of blights, treason, the Grey Wardens being decimated against, Orlais sending troops to Ferelden, civil war, and talking dark spawn all whispers that had made it to his ears. Until now, he had discounted most of these as tales that grew with each telling. Anora's words still ringing in his ears shook him to his core.
"Archdemon? You mean there was a Blight? But only a Grey Warden ca…" Maric bit off the words. His trip to the deep roads all those years ago had gained him many of the Warden's secrets. Speaking of this aloud was less than honorable considering his promises to Alistair's mother and Duncan. As he allowed his words to trail off his eyes flew to Alistair and then Elissa searching for confirmation, while secretly hoping for denial. It was Elissa that nodded in silent response.
"Maker's blood, this is indeed a grave tragedy." Maric dropped his head in grief. All of the things they had been through together came flooding back into his mind. How many times did his friend save him? It was Loghain's strength, as he grieved for Rowan, which kept the country together.
The emotions flickered across Maric's features as well as his reverent; half-closed eyes hit Alistair like an Ogre's fist. Before he could stop himself (not that he actually wanted to), Alistair snorted in disgust. "HIS death is the real tragedy in this whole mess." Alistair sneered bitterly as Maric turned towards Alistair with an icy glare of his own, which Alistair chose to ignore. "The death's HE caused are by no means as tragic as his own demise."
Maric's icy glare soon gave way to a look of confusion. His information seemed so disjointed and incomplete. Looking deep into Alistair's eyes seeking clarity, but only finding more contempt. Softly and in a measured tone he sought to bridge the gaps. "Of what do you speak my boy?"
"I am in no way your boy, nor have I ever been." Alistair stated his voice low and filled with bitter acidity. "I suggest you remember that." Hardness crackled between the two men. The words bit deeply into Maric's heart, knowing all too well the pain that must drive such a reaction.
Elissa forcefully cleared her throat before Alistair could say anything else. His reaction showed his hurt, pain and frankly a lack of maturity. For love of Alistair and the respect due her King she sought to defuse the situation. "Diplomacy my love, is not your strong point." Elissa smiled thinly as she gave his hand a firm squeeze of warning. It was a warning he unwisely chose to ignore.
"Perhaps not, but some people should wait to hear the full story before feeling bad for a tyra…" Elissa angrily dropped his hand and positioned herself in front of Alistair with anger flashing in her eyes. While she loved this man with every ounce of her soul, she had to do something and do it quickly before more damage was done. She knew him, and he would regret this if the venom filled accusations were allowed to continue.
"That is quite enough Alistair!" She hissed far more heatedly than even she had intended them to be. Thankfully it had the desired effect, as Alistair quickly quieted himself.
"Your personal resentment towards him in is no way helpful! It is hardly his fault he doesn't know everything that has happened over the past eight years, but he will soon enough." She said with much conviction as she turned her head from Alistair to Maric. "That is of course, unless you are too exhausted from your travels to hear of such tales?"
Breaking his heated gaze away from Alistair, within a moment he was smiling warmly at Elissa, and he shook his head. "No my dear I am quite awake." He held out an arm to the Arlessa. Before taking his arm Elissa turned to an obviously tense Alistair and flashed him a reassuring smile. Her eyes showing clearly her regret for the harshness of her words.
"I will only do so with your permission Commander." She asked calmly, giving control of the situation back to a now somewhat calmer Alistair, who simply nodded shortly. Which was all the prompting Elissa needed. "Thank you Commander." Her fingertips lightly grazed across the back of Alistair hand in an aching gentle caress. The warmth of her touch soothed Alistair and further calmed his anger.
With narrowed eyes she turned to Anora. "Majesty, you know how the nobles love to gossip, and how grossly exaggerated most of it is." She paused to see if Anora's attention was focused upon her before continuing onward. "Alistair did not start that rumor, and you knew it. You merely wanted an excuse to throw your royal ego in his face; frankly, I thought you were above that kind of behavior." Elissa made sure disappointment was plain in her tone. "You know how to stop the rumors, may I suggest for both of yours and Ferelden's sake you do it without too much of a fuss." Elissa said stood firm under Anora's icy gaze.
Both raised as Teyrn's daughters, they were on somewhat equal footing from education in politics and diplomacy. There was a moment that froze between them where a silent battle for position took place. With a the slightest of nods, Anora conceded to Elissa's points and looked away with a small huff. Elissa took Maric's offered arm and started to move towards an archway in the main hall that concealed an door to what once was her private study.
Leaning his head down to whisper in Elissa's ear "Does Anora normally allow you to speak so freely?" His tone and volume were hushed as they were still within hearing range of the Queen. Elissa shook her head.
"I will be most surprised if I wake up in the morning with a head still attached to my neck." She whispered in a conspiratorial tone as she ushered a chuckling Maric into the Warden Commanders private study.
As she pressed the door shut, she threw the latching mechanism, with a small tug made sure the door was secure. Maric raised a single eyebrow at this wordlessly questioning the action. With a wry grin Elissa winked slowly and said: "I happen to be fond of my head just where it is" Maric's mirth bubbled forth from his lips as he eyed Elissa. He thought to himself, what a lucky man his son was indeed.
* * * * * *
In the hall Alistair bowed seeking to make his leave before the Queen could say or do anything. Anora was quick to stop him before he could disappear with the sea of nobility. Her hand while small gripped his sleeve with a iron grip he would have never thought she possessed.
Alistair looked at Anora and noted how uncomfortable she appeared. Her mouth opened and closed several times as if at a loss for words or that what she had to say was so painful it would not easily be expressed. Under any normal circumstances Alistair would have found her loss of words to be utterly and fantastically hilarious, but tonight he was running rather thin on patience.
He glanced down at her hand, then back into her blue eyes. "Have one of your lackeys find me if you think of something relevant to say." With a firm tug, he removed his sleeve from her grasp. He counted a mental tally at the jibe struck at Anora, increasing his score on witty rejoinders by two. He reasoned to himself that it was a particularly witty one liner and the extra point was for the fact she seemed unable to even respond.
He had taken but half a step away from her, when he heard Anora's defeated sigh. Pivoting his body around he looked at Anora attempting to clear her throat. For all appearances she was struggling to once again gain mastery over her voice.
Alistair paused and said in a sarcastic tone: "Yesssssss?"
Her mouth twisted in disgusted sneer and turned her head slightly away from under Alistair's gaze. Her eyes focused on the room full of Ferelden's nobles swiftly noting the location of several prominent individuals.
With great effort her gaze shifted off the nobles, and back to Alistair while she mumbled. "We need to share a dance."
Alistair's eyes widened in exaggerated shock while he retorted: "Excuse me? Could you repeat yourself, I don't believe I heard correctly." He smirked at her obvious discomfort.
Troubling others is not something he normally enjoyed doing, but there was one acceptation to almost any rule. Horrid bitches do not exactly qualify as humans in his book. By no stretch of his quite vivid imagination did he enjoy the thought of sharing a dance with Anora, but this request was not totally unexpected, Alistair considered how very shocked Anora would be if she knew he had seen this coming.
"Childish." She hissed under her breath. Snapping her head up to look at him directly in the eyes Anora repeated herself with confidence. "In order to stop the rumors, you need to ask me to share a dance with you. It would show the nobles that we have indeed placed events of the past behind us." She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. It was obvious she felt as if she were asking a darkspawn to dance instead of a human.
A wide and devilish smile took form on Alistair's lips and in a tone that was pitched to reach Anora's ears alone he said: "I'll do it, but not just for the sole purpose of keeping the nobles from gossiping. I will do it because you are already having an unbelievably unpleasant night. I mean with Maric making his rather unexpected return, that alone threatens your throne more than I or any rumor about me ever could. Not to mention Elissa scolding you. I also know dancing with me will be one of the most painful experiences of your life, and I want to enjoy every moment of your vast discomfort. Your majesty." He added mockingly before bowing to Anora as courtesy demanded.
The main hall's vibrant decorations, along with the nobles dressed in their finest and rather colorful clothing; presented a riot of color that dazzled the eyes, or blinded depending on whom one asked.
Several noble couples were dancing and weaving in an intricate pattern, partners spun and maneuvered through the required dance steps. While it wasn't the Remigold, he admired the shear memorization required to complete the dance.
So distracted was he, that he missed sight of the three drunken nobles that suddenly surrounded him, and began bombarding him with questions of everything from Elissa's whereabouts over the last several months, to worries over neighboring countries. Walking a fine line, he struggled to give them no answers when it came to the subject of Elissa.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Anora had moved back to her chair on the dais, and appeared to be bombarded in a similar manner. Striving to be as polite as possible, as it doesn't pay to be rude to the charitable nobility of Ferelden he displayed tack that had been sorely missing with the interaction with his erstwhile sire.
He took in a deep breath as the currently musical interlude was ending and made his excuses to the group pressing him for information. With a firm but credible tone he informed the group that the next dance was one that he and the Queen must share as it was a favorite of both of theirs. Politely excusing himself from the nobles was easier than he thought since the circle of nobles was apparently performing complex calculations as to what his statement might imply. A smile fixed upon his lips and with a purposeful stride he made his way to the raised dais at the front of the Vigil's hall.
Standing before the seated Queen, Alistair bowed deeply as he knew he should. Glancing out of the corner of his eye he was assured that the bulk of the nobles were paying full attention to the two of them. Alistair in a clear voice spoke to the Anora knowing that the sudden decrease in idle chatter would allow his words to carry further than normal.
"Your Majesty, I would beg to remind you of your promise to share this next dance with me. It isn't often I am so lucky to have such a skilled and beautiful partner for my favorite dance. Did you not mention it was one of yours as well?"
A wide and serene smile spread across her face, Anora responded in voice that was suffused in warmth. "My dearest Commander, you are quite right and I would have been deeply disappointed to miss this experience." With those words Alistair held out his hand to guide her onto the dance floor. Anora smiled and graciously accepted as she slid his hand within his. The eyes of the hall all focused on the dancing partners.
Murmurings could be heard from every which direction as they moved to the center of the room. The minstrels waited until the pair stopped and formally took their stance. The slow and formal music began.
The gawking nobles lined the walls of the hall, each one focused on the pair as they spun gracefully around the floor. They made for a stunning pair in formal apparel. The Queen's gown seemed to float with a lightness that belayed the yards of fabric giving the volume to the shape. Alistair's formal attire showed off his wide shoulders, lean legs and narrowed hips.
Each move was executed precisely and gracefully. It was one more thing about Alistair which shocked Anora completely. He hardly appeared to be a graceful sort, much less one who kept up to date on current dances. Yes, Cailan's brother did keep surprising her to say the very least. For a brief moment she was reminded of her wedding day to Cailan, and the first dance they shared. While she had married him for the position she would gain, she had learned care for, and even love her handsome fool of a husband. His lighthearted attitude granted her the ability to be the true power of the throne for years.
From the fragments of conversations the gathered as they worked the dance floor it was apparent that Elissa had been correct once again. The rumors of Alistair as a rightful ruler where quickly hushed. The apparent accord between the new Commander of the Grey in Ferelden and the Queen spread like wildfire instead.
"Are you enjoying this as much as I am?" He wore the same wide smile he had carried on his way to ask Anora for the dance. His body pivoted Anora into a lift and gently set her back lightly on her feet as the steps of the dance demanded. The glint in her eyes said all that words could not and refuted the beatific smile on her finely framed features. With true enjoyment of her discomfort, he said: "I was simply making sure." He spun her about the room, all the while keeping her at arm's length in case there was concealed dagger she could reach.
Once the dance was over the Commander bowed deeply to the Queen, while he placed a chase kiss upon her hand. Alistair guided her back to the dais with her hand upon his arm. As she settled into her chair, once again Alistair bowed, and backed away as courtesy required.
The music once again started up with the majority of nobles lined up to dance a lively version of the Remigold. Anora silently moved towards her son who was eagerly asking questions about the man she had been dancing with in the way only a small child could. Alistair joined his small group of friends standing near one of the food tables.
"My friend, while the majority of the nobles have been fooled, I must say the dance appeared to be painful for the both of you." Zevran stated in a matter of fact tone.
"She was in more pain than I." Alistair said with great pride. It earned him chuckles from his circle.
"Where is the Elissa?" Anders asked as he looked around the room.
Alistair's heartfelt smile quickly left his face, replaced with a controlled mask. He was not angry with Elissa for meeting with Maric. Explanations were needed on both sides. Elissa was willing to meet with Maric, and not only kept up to date on events over the years, but she had years of political training thanks to her father. He knew she was the right person handle this situation. Alistair also knew that his anger at Maric returning was less than reasonable. He found himself asking what kind of game was the man playing at, coming back now of all times?
Setting his conflicting and confusing feelings aside he responded to Anders. "She is meeting with an unexpected guest." He said choosing his words carefully. "That being said, I need to meet with all of you after this is over. I have some news to share with you all. I believe that this would be best discussed where we can be more private, perhaps at the forest?"
"Privately delivered news, ah that does not bode well for this being good news. So that leaves us with the other option of bad news. Of course is there any other kind?" Zevran asked rhetorically followed by a self amused chuckle.
The ball finally ended after the midnight hour. The nobles trickled out of the main hall, and towards their awaiting caravans, carriages or mounts, each party making their way home or to prearranged lodgings.
Alistair pondered the option to pull Teyrn Cousland and Arl Eamon aside to give them the news of Maric's return, but something stopped him. His better nature won out and kept the news to himself.
While he reasoned that he first wanted to see what Elissa had learned, he knew that wasn't the only reason. He read sadness in his father's eyes that his compassionate heart could not overlook. He wanted to give Maric time to recuperate and recover from his travels, before he was bombarded with questions from all quarters. Regardless of the reason, he felt he made the right choice.
Instead of staying at the Vigil until morning in the quarters that had previously been arranged; the Queen stated that she and her son (emphasizing the fact that Bryce was hers.), would start the journey back to Denerim. While some concerns were raised she dismissed them stating that they were more than capable of traveling by night, and the royal guards where more than able to see to their protection.
As soon as the Queen carriage was out of sight (much to Alistair's great relief), he moved quickly to meet with his friends within the forest surrounding the Vigil. While he regretted the necessity, it was a wise precaution in order to keep this news from the ears of wandering servants or the open ears of any lagging nobility.
Deep within the forest, Nathaniel, Anders, Zevran, Leliana, and Zara were huddled together and waiting for him under a large tree.
"Alright Commander, would you mind telling us this news that brought us out here on such a cold night." Anders said though his chattering teeth.
"Of course." He grinned. "Since Anders is getting chilled from the cold draft running up his dress…" Alistair saw sparks fly from Ander's fingers as his remark struck its intended target. "KIDDING! Really Anders, can't you take a joke?" Alistair held his hands up in a defensive manner. As was intended, this put the group at ease as they finally shared a laugh after the tension of the evening.
As the smile slowly faded from Alistair's face he went on: "I'll get straight to the point; Maric has returned to Ferelden." He stopped long enough to allow the news to register within their minds. "I'm sure all of you heard the rumors circulating about the throne and the noble's drunken opinions of whom should have been placed there?" They all nodded. "Well Anora took that rumor a bit to heart and attempted to pass this off as the start of some new revolt." Nathaniel and Anders let out a disgusted and frustrated groan. "I know, I know. That was my thought as well. Before she could accuse me outright, Maric made his grand entrance. "
"It is Maric that Elissa is meeting with." Nathaniel stated with a single raised brow.
Alistair nodded.
"She is telling him everything he has missed over the past several years. I thought you all should be informed as to where we stand. Better to be prepared.." He stopped there. The words "civil war." already hung in the air at the mention of Maric's return.
"That is all the news I have for now. I didn't want to have this overheard. Sorry I couldn't pick a slightly more temperate night to bring you all such news." Each member of the group seemed wrapped in their own thoughts as they quickly dispersed.
Alistair trusted them all to keep the news he shared a secret. His trust in his friends grew daily, knowing they would be there for him. The precautions needed to prevent others from overhearing were, to say the least regrettable. That the Vigils Keep was less secure than he would like was due in part to the ball. In delicate situations such as this it was best to be safe than sorry.
He returned to his and Elissa's room only to find it was empty. This did not surprise him so much as was disappointing. After having to share a dance with Anora, he missed Elissa's own soothing touch. He had hoped she would not try to filll Maric in on everything in only one night.
Alistair knew it would take hours to compress all the events of the past several years. Additionally he felt that no one could process that much information within one night. A son's death, Blight, a friend's betrayal and death, and a near civil war were just a few of the painful topics that Maric would need to discuss.
Impatience took over as he paced the room. He knew it was the right choice sending Elissa to speak with Maric and they both knew it. She was gentle and kind, could give out details Alistair could not, and she is patent.
It wasn't as if he completely hated his Father. He was angry yes, the conflicting emotions and the ramifications of his return got the better of him. Losing his temper in the hallway had proven that clearly. For right now he just had no interest in knowing him, speaking with him, or being in the same room with the man. He knew he couldn't handle the King and what needed to be said as well as Elissa.
"Thank Andraste I brought my books with me." He mumbled as he picked out a random book and began reading, determined to stay up all night if he had to awaiting Elissa's return.
Just over three hours had passed when a loud knock came on his door. "You know you don't have to knock Eli." He called out as he moved towards the door. Slowly the door opened and Anders poked his head through the doorway.
"I do believe manners and standard etiquette dictate that I do. I come bearing a gift that has need of your attention." He stated as he opened the door supporting a stumbling and giggling Elissa through the threshold.
Alistair watched in stunned silence as Anders navigated Elissa to the corner of their bed, and guided her into a sitting position.
"Hi Anders!" She squeaked happily which was quickly followed by a fit of giggles. At a glance Alistair took in her soft and unfocused eyes, her dress rumpled as if it had been wadded up in a trunk for months, and she was missing one slipper.
"Yes love, we've been through this already." Anders brought a hand up in order to hide his amused smile and snickering from Elissa.
"Anders. What a nice name that is. It matches your lovely hair!" All of her words slurred together as if it were one long sentence. Being a professional former drunk, Alistair easily translated what she had said and informed Anders, whose loud laughter filled the room.
"You hate my hair. In fact you've ordered me to get it cut loads of times." At that Elissa broke out into a fit of loud giggles
"Good Maker, she's as drunk as a Dwarf!" Alistair chuckled as he stood up from their bed and quickly made his way in front of Elissa. "I'll take care of her. Thank you Anders for bringing her up here."
"You're very welcome. I am playing a guide to Maric as well seeing as how he is just as drunk as she" He said pointing to Elissa. "I'm guessing these two have had quite a night. Odd really seeing as she isn't keen on drinking." With that, Anders left the room.
"Hi there Alistair! How was your…oh you know…the dancing thingy?" She cheerfully asked. He shrugged and smiled warmly at her as he slid her one remaining slipper off her foot.
"As well as could be expected, some things I'll have to tell you once you are of a slightly clearer mind." He said as he undressed her. She giggled as he removed her silky pink dress, letting it fall to the floor. This wasn't exactly how he had planned or hoped on taking it off her tonight.
"I feel all…icky." To emphasize her statement she stuck out her tongue. "I should really take a bath." She slurred before she clumsily pushed herself off the bed, and began to stand with every intention of taking a bath. She fell backwards onto the bed before Alistair could stop her, which only induced more giggling fits. Rolling his eyes he tucked her into bed.
"That must have been one hell of a conversation you had with Maric." He stated as he covered her in thick blankets. She made a soft agreeing squeak.
"He is rather sad." She said sleepily. It made her sound childlike, Reminding Alistair of her days on Lyrium. "I told him about my parents, Cailan and Duncan. We needed a drinky."
Thanks to the warm covers she fell asleep within minutes. He gathered an empty basin and placed it near her head on the floor, always better to be prepared for the after effects. Next he took a wash basin of cool water and a clean soft cloth putting them in easy reach near his side of the bed. A cold compress would be required based on her current state.
Removing his own clothing first, he slowly crawled into bed beside her. Trying to create as little movement as possible he settled on his back and reached for her hand. Holding her small hand in his he could do given the level of pain that would come by morning, maybe even before then. This would have to be enough for now.
"You'll have to tell me all about your conversation once you're survived your morning." He mumbled before drifting off into a dreamless slumber.
A/N: Hello everyone! Here well here it is, the second story! YAY! I wasn't sure where I wanted to take this story, but thanks to much outlining I think I have a pretty good idea which direction this story should be heading. Of course I'm always open to reader suggestions as well. :)
Now the first story was very Alistair driven and his POV was rather dominant . Since Maric's return effect in a different way (compared to anyone else in the merry group) his POV will still be a crucial part of this story. But the dominant POV character's here will be Elissa (for reasons that will become clear later) and of course Maric.
Thanks to my awesomely wonderful editor Linette23 for her ALWAYS fantastic editing, and cleaning up job! Thanks to all of you for taking the time out of your day to read this.