Fore Note: If you haven't read A Southern Californian in King Cailan's Court you might be wondering at how it is Anora and Alistair had a romance. The plot to Dragon Age is all messed up when Lucy, a mature earth woman, is stuck into Elissa Cousland's body. She circumvents the civil war, becomes friendly with Loghain, and subsequently his daughter, Anora. Alistair tags along with her and Anora explores the possibility of getting to know him better by asking Lucy/Elissa about him. Lucy is thrilled about it and works behind the scenes to make sure it happens. She's known for a long time he desperately needed a girlfriend.

While Lucy is off in the Bannorn rescuing Riordan after he goes off searching to see what the darkspawn are up to, Anora finally invites Alistair to have dinner with her. He's in a bit of a panic and Lucy advises him, via magical orb consultation, to consult with Leliana and Zevran on what to wear. Maker help him...

~o~o~o~

All right. I won't panic. Lucy said to ask Leliana and Zevran for help. Only thing is, I haven't told anyone except Lucy about it. The... dinner. Lucy called it a date. Maker help me! Lucy said Anora... Queen Anora... likes me. She said she was looking at me. At me! The last time we were at the palace I watched her. She was looking at me! She made a face like... well, like I make when someone brings out a really sharp South Reach Stilton. I like that cheese a lot. It's sharp, yet has a really nutty flavor on the back of your tongue. I ate two pounds of it once. I think that's when the Arlessa really decided I really had to go.

Concentrate! Breathe! Maker... my hands are sweating. I went to Leliana's door in the Warden compound and knocked.

She flung the door open and looked at me. "Alistair? What is it? Are you all right? Have you heard anything from Lucy and Riordan? Are they okay?" She put her hand on my forehead. "No fever, but you are so flushed."

I swallowed hard. "I need your help with something. Lucy and Riordan are fine. Lucy said I should ask you..."

"Of course, Alistair. Come in."

I clenched my fists, hoping Leliana wouldn't make too big of a deal out of it. I was already on the verge of panicking. "I have to have dinner... I mean, I was invited to dine tonight with the queen. I don't know what to wear. Lucy said you could help."

The squeal that came out of Leliana nearly made me turn and run. "Dinner? With the queen?" She clapped her hands and bounced a little. "I get to dress you for this... un dîner d'Etat... a state dinner?"

I shook my head. "I don't think there will be many dignitaries there, other than Anora... I mean, the queen."

"Oh? Well, who else will be there?" she asked. "Is this perhaps an awards ceremony? Are you getting recognition for your bravery?"

I shook my head again. "Er, no. I think this is to be a private affair... I mean, dinner. Just me and her."

Leliana's eyes grew so large I thought they might fall out of their sockets. "Mon créateur! A private dinner." She clapped her hand over her mouth. "She favors you then?" A little giggle escaped. "Our little Alistair!" Then she looked me up and down. "Well, not so little I suppose."

"I... no, I doubt it's like that," I lied. I knew that look she had given me. Either I was a block of fine cheese or she liked me.

"Yes! Well, we must make you look like a proper courtier. I think I can scrounge something up. I will go to the market and be back soon!"

"Wait! Wait!" I called after her as she ran down the hallway. "I think Zevran is supposed to help too."

"Non, non! I will do this. Never fear."

She disappeared from sight and I was feeling even more nervous. I needed Zevran's help. Maker help me!

I went down the hallway and stood in front of his door, listening closely. I don't think he ever spent much time in his room. He usually slept with Riordan and Lucy – talk about strange sleeping arrangements – but they were gone so he was here alone... maybe. I listened at his door and heard a grinding sound. At least it wasn't heavy breathing or worse... sounds of... of flesh slapping flesh, juicy sounds of mouths slurping and sucking, the moaning... Sweet Maker! Don't think about it! It was too late, I was slightly aroused and my manhood was swelling. I tried to think of things that would counteract that last thought: Andraste. The sainted Revered Mother... large breasts covered in the Chantry's star burst symbol. No! I gave up on the idea of knocking on Zevran's door and turned around to return to my room. Just then, Zevran's door flew open.

"Oh, hi Zevran," I tried to be casual. I had my back facing him, so I just turned my head to talk.

"Alistair? I thought I heard someone outside my door. By the sound of the footsteps I knew it was you. Size fourteen boots, leather soles… your laces slap noisily when you walk you know that, yes?"

"Ah... yes." Zevran was eerie at times, well, always, really. "I was just about to knock." I didn't turn around, I sure didn't want him to see me in my current state.

"Really? Do you always knock with your back to the door?" I could hear his damn smirk without even seeing it. "Well, no matter, my friend, come on in and tell me what is on your mind."

"Um, okay." I stood there a moment, trying to will away my turgidity. It was staying stubbornly in place. I risked a quick look down, perhaps Zevran wouldn't even notice. "I'll be right there, I just see some paint on the wall here..." I walk closer to the opposite wall, away from the assassin and inspected the wall. "I guess it looks okay." I turn around and walk into Zevran's room, hoping he won't look at my crotch. Maker! What if he thinks I'm excited by him? I say the Chant of Light to myself, hoping for a personal miracle.

"What can I do for you, Alistair?" he said, his eyes immediately going … there.

I turned away, feigning interest in a book on his shelf. "Um, Lucy thought you might be able to help me."

"Lucy did?" I could hear the smirk in his reply. "She's a very thoughtful woman." He moved up closer behind me. "Too late, my dear Warden, I saw the circus is pitching a tent in your trousers. You needn't be embarrassed."

"Maker! That's not why I'm here." I turned and saw that Zevran was getting closer and his eyes were squinting a little. He looked a bit too predatory for my comfort. "Keep your distance! I'm not... I just... No!" The final 'no' came out a bit high-pitched and panicky sounding. Maker! I tried to back away but didn't get far before the bookcase stopped me.

Zevran held up his hands and stepped back. "Well then, what are you here for and why are you so happy to see me?" He eyed my bulge.

"I am not happy to see you, I just... it just happened. Okay? Look, I'm here because Lucy thought you and Leliana could help me figure out what to wear tonight. I'm having dinner with the queen."

Zevran laughed. "Actually, I knew that. She mentioned it to me." He sighed. "Still, I was hoping..."

"Forget it!" I turned around and started to leave. In my exasperation with Zevran, I could feel my stubborn erection was finally wilting. Thank you, Maker!

"No, no! I promise I will behave, but you might want to soothe the little archdemon before you see the queen. It wouldn't do to present arms to her majesty."

"What? I doubt they'd let me bring a weapon in." I frowned at Zevran.

"Milk the one-eyed cow." Zevran winked broadly at me.

I could feel my eyes glazing over. Sometimes it seemed like everyone in the world communicated with a secret code no one had taught me.

"Tug the heir stick?"

"Hair stick?" I reached up to feel my hair. Was he referring to the way it kind of stuck up in front?

"Offend the Maker." He made an obscene gesture by folding his hand around a finger on the other hand and slid it up and down. "Take little Alistair on a date."

"Oh!" I felt my cheeks getting hot again. "Maker! Look, I'm here for advice on what to wear not that! Leliana is already out shopping for me, but Lucy said I should ask for your advice too." I paused a moment. "On what to wear!" I added hastily, hoping he wouldn't go back to that code talk again.

Zevran grimaced. "Leliana will have you dressed as a poof. I will intercept her and make sure you end up looking like a man still."

Zevran put away the mortar he had been grinding some kind of root in and left.

I cringed, wondering what sort of outfit those two would come up with for me. I returned to my room and contemplated Zevran's advice. It did make sense. I wouldn't want that to happen at an inappropriate moment. So I closed my eyes and I thought about the noises I often heard coming from Lucy's bedroom and …

~o~o~o~

I was still standing, amazed as always, that the Maker didn't strike me dead. Although, I suppose if the Maker's wrath for such liberties were actually true, pretty much everyone would have died by age fifteen. Lucy was incredibly nonplussed about such things. She told me masturbation is a good thing so we don't feel compelled to fuck – her word, not mine – everything that comes along and produce unwanted children, or spread diseases by, as she says, schtupping inappropriately. But such advice coming from her seems a little odd. She spent six weeks trying to be celibate and it nearly killed her... and us as well.

Ah well, it was done and my mind was clear again. I wouldn't think about those noises in Lucy's room... or that time the door was open just a crack and I saw her with Zevran and Riordan. Sweet Andraste! What was he thinking putting his mouth there? He's a senior Warden, for Maker's sake! It sure made her moan though...Oh crap! It was happening again.

~o~o~o~

I really had to get control of this. My nerves were stretched to the snapping point and any stray thought just went to my groin and I was off again, offending the Maker, as Zevran put it. Things were getting a bit chaffed and raw. The servant who did our laundry was going to wonder why the shirt I was using to clean myself off was so strangely stiff. I began to worry she might figure out why. I had the brilliant idea of putting my shirt in Zevran's laundry basket. Then they would attribute it to him. It was probably perfectly normal for him anyway. I took advantage of the fact he was out helping Leliana find clothes for me to wear and hid my shirt in his laundry.

I returned to my room and tried to read, but I couldn't concentrate. I went into the courtyard with my sword and practiced for awhile. That took my mind off things, but I got very sweaty. Finally Zevran and Leliana returned and they fetched me back into the building.

"Alistair! You're covered in sweat. You'll need to go take a bath. We don't want to get your outfit stinky." Leliana ran out and got the servants busy preparing a bath.

"Did the circus leave town, my friend?" Zevran asked, looking squarely at my crotch.

"Oh, for Maker's sake! Would you stop talking about that, please?" Drawing attention back to my unmentionables just made me more nervous. "I'm going to go take my bath." I stalked out of the room into the bathroom. I waited while the servants filled up the tub. I really wished Lucy were here. She could fill this thing a lot faster with magic and the water was always the right temperature. I waited patiently until everyone left and then I got into the tub and took a proper bath, washing my hair at the same time. I tried to get that cowlick in the front to settle down, for the thousandth time, but it didn't, of course.

When I got out, I wrapped a linen sheet around myself and went back into my room. Leliana and Zevran were both waiting. They each were holding a pile of clothes.

"We couldn't agree on what you should wear so we each picked out an outfit for you," Leliana said. "I thought you should dress fashionably, as a debonair courtier..."

"As a dandified poof, you mean, no?" Zevran interrupted.

Leliana sniffed contemptuously. "The fashion is a bit out of date in Orlais, but it is très élégant for Ferelden!"

Zevran opened his mouth to interject something. I thought I should step in and mediate. "Well, I'll try them both on and decide. How does that sound?"

"That sounds quite fair!" Leliana chirped. "You might need some help dressing... this fashion isn't what you're used to."

"Uh, no. Thanks, but no. I can dress myself. I've been doing it for a few years now. Just leave the clothes on the bed."

The pair filed out of my room. I dissected the pile Leliana left. There were some very long socks and a pair of pants that were quite voluminous and a shirt with frilly sleeves, a doublet and a … thing with ruffles and a hole in the middle. I sat down and pulled on the socks, they went far up my legs, over my knees even. I stood to pull on the pants and the socks fell down. It took a bit, but I was finally able to get the socks up and the pants over them, and they sort of stayed in place, although I thought one misstep and they'd fall down to my ankles again.

Next I put on the shirt and the doublet. The white thing with ruffles, I wasn't sure about. Was it a hat of some sort? I pulled on my boots, laced them up, and went to find Leliana and Zevran. It turns out they were arguing in the hallway.

"Oooh! Let me see you," Leliana squealed.

I clomped carefully, trying not to bed my legs too radically so the socks wouldn't fall down. But, of course, they did fall down and spooled around my ankles.

"Now there's an attractive look," Zevran said dryly.

"Oh, Maker," Leliana said sorrowfully. "Don't you have garters? Those sleeves... I need to adjust them. Oh, the ruff goes around your neck, it isn't a hat. You don't wear boots like that with this outfit!"

"What are garters?" I put the ruff around my neck but it itched so I took it off again.

"Garters. To hold up your hose." Leliana started to detach the sleeves which were tied onto the doublet.

I shook my head. "Wait, Leliana. I should take a look in the mirror." I walked down the hall where we had a good-sized mirror. I was shocked for a moment as I looked at myself. I looked like I'd been plucked out of a vegetable patch. I was sort of squash shaped... like a deformed pumpkin. The orange and brown tones of the clothes reinforced the impression.

"What do you think?" she asked. "We just need to find you some nice shoes and fix up the sleeves and you'll be talk of the court!"

Zevran laughed. "That's an understatement."

For once I agreed with Zevran. "Leliana, I think perhaps I'm not ready for this outfit." I was trying to find a way to say I hated it without hurting her feelings. "It is a little too... fashionable for me."

Leliana pouted. "In another year everyone will be wearing these!"

I suddenly saw an upside to the Blight, if it could prevent that from happening. "Okay, perhaps next year then. But this year, I think I want something a bit more..."

Leliana sighed. "Boring... I get it!"

"A little less insane," Zevran added.

Leliana tossed her nose back up in the air. "At least he won't squeak when he walks." She stormed out of the hallway into her room and slammed her door shut.

"Squeak?" I asked, turning to Zevran.

"Phfft! She is just jealous. Go. Change and let me see how you look."

Zevran's outfit was mostly made from leather. There was a pair of black leather pants, black leather boots and even a black leather doublet. Under that was white shirt with a bit of lace that poked out through the doublet and at the bottom of the sleeves. It definitely looked less odd than Leliana's choice but as I walked out the room to show Zevran there was an odd scrunching sound with each step I took.

"It's a bit noisy don't you think?" I asked Zevran as I stood in front of him. I took a few steps to demonstrate.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It takes awhile for leather to break in, and this was a rather new ensemble. It isn't that loud though."

I shrugged and decided Lucy had been right. Of the two, Zevran's taste was better. Now that my outfit was determined Leliana insisted on grooming me. She tried a number of times to get my hair to lie down properly, but it always flipped up in the front. She even called in Wynne and Morrigan, trying to find some combination of herbs or magic that might do it, but my hair remained stubbornly upright.

"If you just grew it out longer, that tuft wouldn't pop up there." Leliana sighed and threw up her hands. "I give up."

I ran my hands through my hair, which was starting to get sticky from all the things they had used on it. "I like my tuft."

"Oh well, I suppose the Queen must like it too, otherwise you wouldn't be dining with her tonight, no?"

After Leliana left me, I tried to comb most of the goop out of my hair. It left my hair a little spikier than normal, unfortunately.

I went to see Zevran just before leaving, to make sure everything was all right.

He hummed when he saw me. Then he stalked around me, looking like a cat about to pounce. "I think you're ready to lose your cherry, my friend. There's only one thing missing..."

I looked around the room for the stone fruit I was supposed to lose. "A cherry?"

He laughed and slapped me on the back. "No, amico, that is just a saying." He handed me a dagger in a sheath on a sort of small strap. "Put that on your leg. It drives the women wild, yes? They do love the dangerous ones."

I stared at it a moment. "I don't think I'm allowed to take any weapons to this tonight. Besides, maybe she would think I was there to assassinate her! This isn't your best idea, Zev."

"Ah, yes, that's the point, my dear Alistair. It shows her that you think independently, you do not follow stupid rules. It says you are a man of action! If she thinks you're there to assassinate her, all the better. Women like to think they've seduced you out of the notion."

I shook my head. "No. Just... no!" Is that what Lucy saw in him? "Do you wear that thing when you and Lucy..." then I thought better of asking the question, "no, wait, nevermind."

Zevran just smiled enigmatically.

~o~o~o~

I walked to the palace. My new leather clothes made scrunching sounds the entire way, and the pants chaffed a little. Leather doesn't breathe well. My hands sweated every step of the way. Finally I arrived and a guard blocked my way in.

"State your name and your business," the guard said gruffly.

"Er, I'm Grey Warden Alistair Thei... just Alistair. I'm expected. I mean, the queen is expecting. Me. She's expecting me." I rubbed nervously at my forehead. I think I just said the queen is pregnant.

The guard did not look amused. "Wait, here." He stomped off and announced me to another functionary. He came back and glowered at me while the functionary scurried off.

"Nice night," I said, trying to strike up a conversation.

The guard ignored me.

"The sunset was nice anyway." I pointed out the door where the sun was disappearing. "I mean, if you like sunsets, it was nice. I guess if you don't like sunsets it was a terrible sunset... rather gaudy and far too colorful." I couldn't stop babbling.

The guard sent me a pointedly sharp glare and I decided perhaps I should stop talking. So I began to pace, and hum. I stopped myself when I realized I was humming "Le Arlesans", the Orlesian anthem. In my defense, it was also a drinking song in Redcliffe, but probably most people knew it as the anthem.

Fortunately the functionary returned. "Right this way please, Ser Alistair."

I started after him, squeaking and scrunching. He turned around and looked at me strangely, and shook his head. I had been hoping I was the only one who could hear it. He led me into what looked like a library.

"Would you like an aperitif while you are waiting, Ser?" He hovered at my elbow, oozing efficiency and competence.

I, on the other hand, was oozing perspiration. I had no idea what an aperitif was. Would I be committing some sort of social error if I rejected it? "Uh, oh... kay. Okay. Sure, I'll have a... one of those."

The functionary somehow managed to look down his nose at me while bowing and scurrying off to pour me a... whatever it was. He scurried back with a tiny glass on a small tray. I took the glass and sipped it tentatively. It was good; kind of fruity, sweet, with a tinge of herb. "Nice." I commented to the functionary.

He nodded and gestured to a chair. "Please be seated, Ser. The queen will be with you shortly."

I took a seat by the fire in what appeared to be a library or a study. My leather clothes scrunched particularly loudly when I sat down.

My nerves were stretched taut. I just wanted to get this over with. Anora could see what a complete idiot I am and then she'd wonder why she ever invited me to dinner, and life could go back to normal. Maker's breath! Why does the queen have to take a fancy to me? I thought it was an extraordinarily bad idea, but Lucy seemed to think it was a good thing. She told me I needed a girlfriend, and I couldn't disagree with that, but the queen? How does one have a queen for a girlfriend? I was bad enough around women; one who was also the leader of the country just put her that much further out of my league. I wished I could just disappear, or better yet, I wished the archdemon would show up right now. I would happily deal the killing blow just so long as I didn't have to do this.

Unfortunately, the archdemon didn't make an appearance, the queen did. She swept into the room looking very beautiful. Her hair was down, which I'd never seen before, and curled nicely around her shoulders. Her dress was rather fitted and left a lot of that, you know, the area between a lady's... chest features... revealed. My mouth went dry, but at least I had the good sense to stand up. I couldn't figure out if I should bow, kneel, curtsey or salute though.

"Alistair, I'm so glad you could come."

She held out her hand to me and that threw me for a moment. I quickly wiped the sweat off my hand and shook it. Maker no! I was supposed to kiss her hand, I think. "Your majesty..." now what do I say? Should I tell her she looks pretty? "Thank you." Why did I say thank you? Oh Maker!

She smiled. "Please Alistair, let's not be formal. I'm just Anora. I wanted to get to know you better. You're my late husband's brother, so you're my brother-in-law."

I nodded. "That's right! So, I guess that makes you my sister."

"In-law," Anora added, smiling.

"Oh right, I meant sister-in-law." Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Anora kind of tugged at her dress. She almost looked a little nervous herself. I must have been mistaken, Queen Anora couldn't possibly be nervous. "You look really pretty... I mean beautiful. Your hair is different, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I don't often wear it down. You look nice too. That's leather isn't it?" She reached out with a finger and touched my doublet.

I nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

"Well, let's go into dinner." She gestured to the door she had come through.

We were seated at a little table in a very large dining room. The chairs were comfortably stuffed and upholstered in leather and the noise I made when I sat down was a very loud scrunching, squeaking sound. Then when I shifted back into the chair an air pocket between the two leathers formed and released suddenly sounding very much like I passed gas.

"Um," I said, my face beginning to burn. "That was the leather." I wiped at my sweating forehead with the back of my hand. "Air pocket." Blast you, Zevran, for putting me in new leather.

Anora smiled gracefully. "Think nothing of it." Nonetheless she gestured to a servant and whispered in his ear. He opened a window. "A bit stuffy in here, I think," she said.

"Yes, a bit," I echoed. Maker! She thinks I farted.

The food started to come and she asked me a lot of questions. Lucy told me not to just talk about myself, but to get Anora to talk about herself too. Lucy said women hate it when a man monopolizes the conversation and does nothing but talk about himself. By the time dinner was over I knew that Anora and Cailan had been more like friends rather than husband a wife, and she knew I had lived in the stables and had been sent to the Chantry by Isolde.

When I told her that I saw her face flush and her eyebrows drew together. "Maker, that woman should be flogged for that!" Her fork clattered down on her plate. "And Eamon! Ooooh! What sort of spineless creature is he for allowing that? Maric was an idiot for trusting Eamon to raise you."

That reminded me, Anora had known my father. "Did you know my father well? What was he like?"

She smiled. "Well, I suppose I did at that. I spent a lot of time in Denerim after I was old enough to leave home without mother. Cailan and I spent a lot of time together as teenagers, so I did see Maric a lot." She wiped her mouth on a napkin. "I liked him. He was very well grounded. Not one to put on airs at all. He liked to laugh and he often told jokes. But he was also prone to being rather morose at times. Not that I saw that side of him, but Father often complained he was drinking too much."

"Oh?" So my father was a drunk. Great, something to aspire to. Something in my face must have alerted her to what I was thinking.

"He was a great ruler, Alistair. Not just during the Rebellion, but afterward he wanted to see Ferelden prosper. Before he was lost at sea, he wanted people to put aside their enmity toward Orlais and establish good relations with them. It was a source of constant disagreement between my father and him."

"What do you think? Would that have been the right thing?" I was curious about how much of Loghain's point-of-view Anora had absorbed.

"I think Maric was right. There was a new ruler and it was a new day in Orlais. Time to see if we could put aside our differences and work to better both of our countries. Cailan had been corresponding with Orlais when..." Her voice trailed off, sadly.

I reached out with my hand and put it on top of hers. She looked so sad for a moment. "You must miss him."

She smiled wistfully. "I do. He was a good friend. Not much of a husband, but a very good friend."

I felt my face starting to burn again. Did I dare ask her what she meant? She looked like someone desperately in need of a friend, someone to confide in. Like she had said, I was her brother-in-law. I could be her friend. Couldn't I? "What would you have liked to have been different about your marriage with Cailan?"

She took a long sip of her wine and paused a moment, looking thoughtful. "There was no romance. We were friends for so long, knew each other too well, there was no mystery, no thrill." She sighed heavily. "Then he went looking for that elsewhere... everywhere really."

I squeezed her hand. "My brother was a fool to do that when he was married to the most beautiful, most intelligent woman in Ferelden."

She looked up at me and smiled. "You're just saying that, aren't you?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, I mean it." I did, too.

Her eyes got very soft and sparkly and she stared at me a moment. Her lips parted just a bit. I think she wanted me to kiss her... did she? What if she didn't want it and I did kiss her? Would I be thrown into Fort Drakon? I had to do something; I could feel that she expected something... but what exactly? Maybe I should ask permission?

"Anora... would it be all right... I mean... you're the queen and I don't want to be too forward..."

She sighed and shook her head, the corner of one side of her mouth turning up in a wry smile. "Oh, Alistair, just do it. Don't think about it."

I leaned over and so did she. I wondered how to do this so our noses didn't bump and just as it looked like nose would meet nose she tilted her head so her nose was out of the way. Oh! That's how it's done! Then our lips met. Hers were soft. Wow!

The kiss last a few moments. Just a tentative brief meeting of lips. I felt something like a little spark of lightning that Lucy sometimes zapped me with, but this one felt good and didn't sting. I just didn't know what to do next.

"Anora, I'm..." I flushed. My face was definitely burning. "I grew up in the Chantry and I'm not... knowledgeable..."

She just reached out with her finger and put it across my lips. "You seem like a quick study." She leaned over the table again and kissed me. "Is this okay?"

"Um hm," I murmured and closed the brief distance between our lips.

~o~o~o~

I think she liked the fact that I was innocent and awkward. I was probably completely different than Cailan in that regard. She was right, I was a quick study. That first time was a little confusing and I was completely artless but she was patient and kind. She admired my stamina and I told her it was one of the less well kept secrets of our order. She thought that was funny. In fact, she thought I was funny and she laughed at my stupid jokes.

She continued to invite me to dinner a few times a week. We never really discussed where our relationship was heading. I just lived for the moment, unable to believe I was sleeping with the queen of Ferelden. It continued like this until just before the archdemon attacked Denerim. That was when she told me that she was expecting... but that's another story.

~o~o~o~

Aft Notes: I hope you liked it! Yes? No? Write a review and let me know! I totally stole the idea for the leather outfit from Benny Hill, I think.

Many thanks to Biff McLaughlin for beta-ing!