CHAPTER ONE

Brianna Cousland was a lone rider on the road to Denerim. She was thankful for it. She was not in the mood to see people or entertain potential riding companions. Her heart and mind ached at her recent failure. She had been assigned as the Grey Warden Commander for Ferelden while they rebuilt the order. During that time, there had been another darkspawn incursion; the destruction of the Grey Warden's stronghold Vigil's Keep; and the devastation of the city of Amaranthine, not to mention the loss of outlying farm holds and countless civilians and soldiers dead, including all of the Grey Wardens that had arrived at Vigil's Keep from Orlais. How had she gone from uniting Ferelden and defeating the Blight to nearly burning down one of the country's most beloved cities? She had written a letter to the King of Ferelden asking to be replaced. She did not need to send it, as the notice came that a new Grey Warden Commander from the Free Marches was being assigned to The Vigil. Even the King saw she was an abject failure.

Brianna had been traveling on the road for most of the day. Once the new Warden Commander had arrived and she had smoothly transferred her duties, she left at daybreak before anyone had risen. She didn't want any pomp or circumstance to send her off. She didn't deserve it. All she wanted was to get to Denerim and try to forget the last few months. Brianna looked up and saw the city outlined against the setting sun. Perhaps she could sneak in without anyone knowing and climb the stairs to her room and her bed. But she'd have a bath first. She was covered with dust from the road. She had thrown a blue cloak over her Warden Commander armor, hoping she would not be noticed. Since she had been away from the city for so many months, she thought the odds of her sneaking in undetected were fair. She entered the city's Northern gates close to Fort Drakon and the palace. At least she wouldn't need to ride too far into the city. Brianna passed through the gates with ease, the guards barely giving her a second look. She felt a mixture of relief and concern. Could anyone just march into the capitol of Ferelden so easily? She would speak to the King about it – tomorrow; after a good night's sleep.

Things were going as planned. It seemed she would be able to sneak back into the city unnoticed. She saw the palace ahead and as she approached, she heard the sounds of trumpets heralding her arrival. Brianna hung her head and her shoulders slumped for a moment. So much for secrecy. At the sound of the trumpets, the people began to line the streets. Brianna straightened in the saddle and threw her blue cloak over her shoulders to reveal her Warden-Commander armor. The people began to cheer when they recognized her. Their Queen had come home.

At the sight of her people, Brianna brightened a bit. She put her jet black horse into a cantor and began to wave to the crowd. More people came out of their shops and residences to welcome the Hero of Ferelden home. She had not expected such a warm reception with her recent activities, but the people loved her. Their cheers were a balm to her aching heart.

As she approached the palace gates, they swung open on cue. She road into the courtyard and was greeted by the King, grinning from ear to ear. Her trusted Mabari, Dante, was by his side. She had to smile when she saw them. Alistair was just as handsome as ever, his blonde hair cropped short and his golden eyes gleaming. He had taken to wearing a shirt of silver and blue with blue pants and black suede boots; the colors of the Grey Wardens. The former King was known as The Golden King and Alistair had no intention of competing with his late brother Cailan, choosing silver, blue and purple as his colors. He had worn Cailan's armor at The Landsmeet when he was declared King and in the battle against the Archdemon. But once that was finished, he had Cailan's armor put on display next to their father Maric's armor in the throne room and had commissioned silverite armor for himself. When the sunlight shone on it, it could blind the nearest enemy with its reflection.

Brianna was glad to see that Dante had listened to her instructions before she left. He was to stay by the King's side and guard him until she came home. Dante and Alistair hadn't always gotten along, but the Mabari was fiercely loyal to his mistress. When she and Alistair married, Dante sensed the change and became just as loyal to him, too, although he would still nip playfully at Alistair. The pair was actually quite a sight. Alistair had taken on a more confident, more kingly air about him and this was enhanced by the tan Mabari at his side. They both looked like royalty.

Brianna pulled her horse to a stop and a page ran up to take the reins from her. She jumped off and approached the King as he was walking down the palace steps to greet her. Dante remained at the top of the steps, but she could see he wanted to run and greet his mistress. She and Alistair met halfway in the courtyard. Brianna stopped, bowed her head and dropped to one knee.

"Your Majesty," she said. She knew Alistair hated it when she bowed before him. But it was the proper decorum and appearances to the people were important. If she and the other nobles demonstrated the proper respect for the King, the people would follow.

Alistair cupped her chin and raised it to him. He then took her hand and assisted her in rising, the smile never leaving his face.

"Welcome home, my dear," he said and kissed her, to the delight of the people. There were cheers as the palace gates closed and Alistair wrapped Brianna's arm around his, escorting her inside. They paused at the top of the stairs and she greeted Dante with a scratch behind the ears. He barked happily at her and then fell into place at her side. The three of them continued into the palace.

"I thought I'd be able to enter the city unnoticed. I really didn't want all of this fuss," she said.

"I had the guards at the North gate be on the look-out for you. As soon as they saw you riding down the road, they sent a messenger to me."

Apparently the guards were much more observant than Brianna thought. She smiled inwardly at that. All of the training she had initiated had not gone to waste. "How did you know I'd be arriving home today?"

"I was informed that the new Commander of the Grey was installed at The Vigil yesterday. Once that happened, there was no need for you to stay. Knowing your talent for organization, I surmised that the transfer wouldn't take long and you would be on the road by dawn."

Damn if her husband didn't know her well. "No keeping secrets from you, I see," she smiled.

"You must be exhausted. I've had the maids draw a bath for you in our chambers. I need to finish some business with Eamon and then I am all yours for the night." He stopped and stared into her blue eyes, caressing her cheek as he did so. "I have missed you."

"I missed you, too. In spite of everything, I'm glad to be home."

Alistair kissed her. How many nights at The Vigil had she longed for his kiss. "It's not as bad as you think," he assured her when they parted. "But that conversation can be had tomorrow. Enjoy your bath. I will join you as soon as I can." He kissed the tip of her nose and then walked towards his study where his Chancellor, Eamon was waiting for him. She watched him leave. Somehow he always knew the right thing to say to her.

"Come, Dante," she said. The Mabari barked and walked with her to the bed chamber where servants were waiting to strip her of her armor and send it down for a good cleaning. Once her armor was removed, they left her to bathe in solitude. Being alone was probably the last thing she needed, as the final battles kept replaying in her mind. She tried to think if there was anything she could have done differently to save both The Vigil and Amaranthine. But with the small contingent of soldiers she had, she was forced to make a difficult choice. Just one of many that haunted her dreams.

Brianna stepped into the bath and sank into its warmth, letting out a contended sigh. Dante sauntered over to her and rested his head on the stone edge. He let out a low whine. Brianna smiled and rubbed his ears.

"You took care of our King in my absence, I see," she told the Mabari. Dante gave a short bark. "But you shouldn't stop your duties now that I'm home. Alistair will need your protection as much as I, perhaps moreso. He is our King and nothing can happen to him. You're his wardog as much as mine, now." Dante gave another short bark, as if in agreement. He then took his usual place on his rug where he had direct sight of the chamber door and could attack any intruder. The Mabari relaxed as his mistress finished her bath.

After nearly a half-hour of soaking in the bath, letting the warmth seep into her tired muscles, Brianna exited the water, took the soft towel that the maids had placed nearby and dried herself, then put on a blue silk negligee. She hadn't worn such extravagances while at The Vigil. She sat in front of her vanity, picked-up the brush and ran it through her jet black hair. It had gotten longer while she was away and she had been forced to wear it up. Now it cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, settling between her shoulder blades. She gazed at her own reflection and remembered, as a child, watching her mother sitting in front of a similar vanity, performing the same task.

Eleanor Cousland had golden blonde hair then that went down the middle of her back. She always wore it in twin buns on the back of her head, but Brianna loved it when her mother would let her hair down. It was soft and silky and made her mother look radiant. She remembered times when Eleanor would see her and have her sit on her lap. She would brush Brianna's hair and they would talk. Only later did Brianna realize those talks were lessons on how to run the castle and its surrounding lands. Her mother had made a game of it and she learned her lessons well. Eleanor always smelled of lavender and vanilla and these scents would evoke memories of her mother. That scent coupled with her father's scent of leather and horses always brought a smile to her face.

Bryce Cousland was constantly touring his lands, ensuring that his people were taken care of. She had always loved to watch her father sit a horse and thought no man could compare. Many times he would swing her into the saddle before him and they would ride out to greet the people. He taught her the lay of the land as well as how to lead the people who would one day be her responsibility. The residents of Highever always smiled when they saw the Teyrn riding across the land with his young daughter. The love and pride he had for Brianna was obvious to all. He doted upon her.

But Brianna's favorite memory of her parents was when she would catch them in a harmless, but intimate moment such as when Bryce would play with Eleanor's hair or they would share a kiss. The love her parents had for each other was like that in fairytales. She would concentrate on the memories of her parents when they were younger; a handsome Bryce Cousland with his dark hair always tousled from the wind and beautiful Eleanor Cousland, her golden hair and fair skin making her a standout in any crowd. But usually the happy memories of Bryce and Eleanor would be replaced with the last image she had of her parents; her father, mortally wounded, lying in a pool of his own blood and her mother, kneeling next to Bryce in her suit of armor covered in gore; the look on their faces betraying that they knew their time had come and they would meet the Maker together. They had sent her away, to freedom, to make Arl Howe pay for his betrayal and murder of her family and to serve her country as a Grey Warden. She had left them to their Fate and had made her own way in the world. With everything that had happened since Ostagar, Brianna never had the chance to properly mourn the loss of her parents, as well as her sister-in-law and nephew. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, feeling a single tear fall. But she could not allow another or she would not be able to stop. Suddenly there was a strong hand on her shoulder.

"Darling?" the voice asked with concern. Brianna opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. She was greeted with the gentle smile of her husband, a look of concern in his eyes. She smiled back at him. He took the brush from her hand and began to pass it through her hair, just as she remembered seeing her father do with her mother. They gazed at each other in the mirror as Alistair continued to brush Brianna's hair. After a few minutes, he stopped and placed the brush on the vanity. He then presented his hand to his wife and escorted her to their bed. They sat next to each other, their gaze never wavering. "I've missed you so much," Alistair whispered.

"I've missed you, too," she confessed.

"Everyone has been instructed to bother us only if the castle is on fire or we're being invaded. Otherwise, we are alone." He kissed her gently, tenderly.

"You still have clothes on," she observed when they parted.

"I thought you could help undress me," he stated.

Brianna chuckled. He was the shy, virginal templar no longer. She began to unbutton his shirt under Alistair's smoldering gaze. She helped him shrug out of it and let it fall to the floor. Brianna ran her hands over his muscular chest, tracing the few battle scars with her fingertips. She knew where and how he had received every scar and had spent nights in their tent treating every wound. Most of his wounds had eventually been treated by a healer and only those scars that were too deep to be eradicated remained. But she liked his scars; they added character to his body.

Alistair rose from the bed and moved to stand before her. Deftly, her fingers unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Placing her hands on his hips, she pushed his clothing over his thighs and down his legs so he could easily step out of them. He now stood naked before her and she allowed her eyes to roam over his body. She leaned in and placed a kiss on his abdomen, right above his navel. She heard his intake of breath at the touch of her lips on his flesh. Placing a hand on her upper arms, Alistair pulled her up to him and kissed her. He slipped his fingers under the straps of her negligee and pushed them down her arms. The piece of cloth fell silently to the floor. Their arms went about each other as they stood there, their nude bodies pressed against one another. His hands caressed her back. His lips moved to her jaw line and down her throat. She threw her head back as a sigh of contentment escaped her lips.

"Oh, Alistair," she breathed.

He placed his lips next to her ear. "I love you, Brianna," he whispered. "I want you."

"Yes," she responded. "I am yours, body and soul."

"I am a lucky man," he replied. Alistair kissed her again, running his fingers through her hair. He pressed her back into the mattress and they gently tumbled into bed. Their lips and hands explored each other's bodies, as if it were the first time. They made love into the night finally falling asleep in each other's arms near dawn.