Author's note: This story takes place after the five part story that has already been posted. Please read those tales first to avoid spoilers or confusion. As always, I appreciate your reviews and feedback.
"Your majesty." The guard paused inside the courtyard archway. When she turned to look at him, lowering her bow, he bowed and continued. "The Warden-Commander has arrived."
"I will see him here, thank you," Charlotte replied. The guard bowed again and stood aside for the armored man to enter the courtyard.
"Hello, Cullen."
The Grey Warden went to one knee on the grass and bowed his head.
"Get up, please, old friend," she said. "There is no need for formalities between us. Besides, in Grey Warden business, you are my superior."
"Only because you stepped down and gave me the position, majesty."
Cullen rose to his feet reluctantly and removed his embossed helmet. Slowly he smiled at the queen of Ferelden, whom he had known and truly liked since the time of the Blight so many years ago.
"Can I offer you refreshment? You must have come straight from the road. Will you sit down?" Charlotte set aside her long bow and gestured at the small table and chairs nearby. It was set with a silver pitcher, cups, and a small tray.
Cullen sat gratefully, mindful of his mud-splattered cloak.
"I apologize for arriving early," he said, watching as she removed the leather archery bracers she had strapped on over the sleeves of her gown. A man-sized target was positioned a good distance down the length of the narrow courtyard, and it was riddled with arrows. The queen was still a formidable archer. "The news I have I would like to present to you and the king together, if I may."
"The king," she replied, shaking out the loose fabric of her sleeves, "will join us shortly. Some business with supplicants from the Free Marches came up at the last moment."
"It is odd to not find you together, my lady," Cullen replied as she took a seat at the table and poured some water from the pitcher. "I was under the impression from my last visit that you didn't spend much time apart."
"No, we don't. Not any more. Not when one never knows…" Charlotte trailed off. She shook herself after a moment, pasting a smile on her face that did not reach her eyes.
"How long has it been since your Joining?" Cullen asked gently.
"About twenty-five years. Slightly longer since Alistair's. We don't speak of it much. When the end comes, we will go together. We decided that long ago. Until then, we simply enjoy the time we have together to the fullest."
He nodded, his respect for the lady growing. Not only had she and the king defeated the archdemon singlehandedly, but they had also united the country in a time of civil war and saved countless thousands of lives, his included. They had jointly ruled the kingdom since, and ruled it well, ushering in an unprecedented time of peace and prosperity for Ferelden. Then they had rebuilt the Grey Wardens and, against all odds, provided heirs for their bloodline and the future safekeeping of the country.
At this thought of the Theirin children, he asked, "I know it is not my place, your majesty, but may I ask… What have you told the prince and princess?"
"The truth." She met his eye squarely now. "I will not lie to my children. The rest of the nation may have to be told a half-truth, but not my children."
Cullen regarded her steadily, careful not to allow his face to betray a judgment in one way or the other. He remembered the snapping, determined look in her eyes from the days following the end of the Blight when she had struggled to rebuild their order. Her pretty, aristocratic face was more lined now, her dark brown hair streaked with grey, but this was clearly the same unwavering woman. She was tall and rangy as ever, still holding herself as taut as a bowstring.
He opened his mouth to make a polite response, but she saw something over his shoulder and her features changed instantly.
"Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?" Alistair's light voice preceded him into the courtyard. He strode to the table, managing to prevent Cullen from sinking to his knees in salute as well as kissing the palms of his wife's outstretched hands simultaneously. Cullen settled for clasping his crossed fists to his chest and bowing, Templar-style.
"Sit down, sit down," Alistair clapped Cullen on the armored shoulder jovially, and took a seat next to Charlotte. "Nice beard, by the way. It suits you." He chuckled and stroked his own clean-shaven chin. Despite a quarter of an age as king, he still exuded a boyish energy and glee at life. Everyone knew it was partly due to his great love for his queen. Cullen noticed that, unlike other formerly active men, Alistair had not gone to fat from a lifestyle in the city. He was still as trim as when he toted heavy armor and sword around Ferelden, fighting the darkspawn and the Blight.
"I bring news, you majesty," Cullen began formally. "News from the south."
Alistair's joking demeanor quickly turned serious. "You have come from Ostagar?"
Cullen nodded. "The barbarians amass in the Wilds to press our borders."
"Only the Chasind?"
"Yes, majesty. We have sensed no darkspawn."
"Why do the Chasind Wilders decide to attack us?" Charlotte frowned, a line forming between her brows. "There has been no provocation?"
"No, majesty. I sent men to investigate at the villages along the borders of the Wilds. There has been no hostility from the farmers there, only increased aggression and raids against them by the Chasind." Cullen suddenly felt very tired. He ran one gloved hand through his short curls. "I have two contingents of Wardens stationed at the fortress. I have come to report this matter to you, and ask for aid. And advice."
"They have been peaceful since the Divine Age," Alistair said slowly, almost to himself. "What now drives them to the north?"
"Has anyone attempted to parley?" Charlotte asked.
"There has been no contact or engagement by my men. We have spotted from the top of the towers what seems to be an important shaman's tent complex not far off. I was going to go myself to attempt to speak with the shaman, but I wanted to speak with you first. I thought it may be… prudent to send an envoy of the crown instead. Someone that may exercise more recognized authority than I."
All three fell silent for a long moment, considering. Alistair and Charlotte exchanged a long look.
"Please, Cullen," Alistair said, rising to his feet. "We need some time to talk. Why don't you take some rest and we will meet with you again tomorrow."
"Yes, your majesty," the Warden replied, knowing a dismissal, albeit a polite one, when he heard it. He stood, bowed, and walked out of the courtyard. The guard positioned just outside the archway inclined his head and gestured for Cullen to follow him.
Before they had reached the end of the corridor, the guard stopped suddenly and bowed deeply. Cullen had been deep in thought already and almost ran into the man. He glanced up, surprised, and then also bowed as the prince and princess entered the hall from an adjoining room.
"Look, Duncan, it's the Warden-Commander." Eleanor Theirin noticed him first, calling her twin brother's attention to him. She made a small curtsey in his direction. "How are you, Cullen?"
Cullen had known Charlotte and Alistair's children since their births and had watched them grow into the poised, healthy, capable young people they had become. He murmured a polite response to her question.
"You will have to excuse us." Duncan put his hand on his sister's arm. "We will catch up later. You will be staying a few days, yes?" Cullen nodded his assent, and the twins continued down the hall toward the courtyard.
"Hello, my children," Charlotte called over her shoulder as they entered the courtyard. She had taken the bow up again after Cullen's departure and was aiming again at the target dummy as she and Alistair spoke.
Alistair spread his arms wide and hugged both his children, to Eleanor's delight and Duncan's uncomfortable amusement. He was immeasurably proud of them both.
"We know why Cullen came to visit." Duncan sat down and faced his father squarely, saying his piece directly as was his manner. Alistair raised his eyebrows in return. It was often said that he and his son were as alike as two matched gauntlets, but in appearance only. Duncan had the same look as his father, but his personality was grave and serious where Alistair's was light and joking. They met each other's eyes now, the younger man's steel grey eyes on the elder's light brown.
"Oh yes, we heard all about it," added Eleanor. "Good shot, Mother!" Charlotte's last arrow had burst the straw-stuffed bag of the dummy's head with the force of its impact.
Eleanor was more like Alistair in personality. She was a sweet girl, quick to laugh, but could be hard as silverite if threatened. They knew there was metal beneath the velvet of her smile. She leaned forward to take a piece of fruit from the tray, her red-gold curls falling over her shoulders.
Charlotte laid down the bow again and joined her family at the table.
"If my little eavesdroppers know all about it," she said, "then you know we have a situation that must be dealt with."
"I think you should send us to speak with the Chasind leaders," Duncan said softly. He had a low, melodious voice, and was a persuasive speaker. He rarely had to speak loudly to get the attention of others.
"You don't want to go yourselves, do you?" asked his sister, nibbling at the fruit. "We could go back with Cullen, fix the problem, and be home in a few weeks."
Charlotte didn't speak right away, but her brows drew down over her eyes. Clearly, she didn't like the idea of sending her children into potential danger, even backed by half the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.
"It's probably just some misunderstanding," Duncan continued. He emphasized his words with his strong hands. "We need to speak to the right people and get it straightened out. You said it yourself, Father. They have been peaceful for so many years. There must be a rational explanation for their protest."
"Is that what you think too?" Charlotte turned her gaze on her daughter, whose face changed quickly from lounging ease to shrewd campaigner. After all, who had insisted the twins study so much military history and tactics? Charlotte almost laughed. "You look so much like my father right now, daughter. He used to get that same stubborn look on his face." She smiled sadly. Perhaps beyond the Veil, one day, Bryce Cousland could finally meet this granddaughter that resembled him.
"We are ready for this, Mother," Eleanor insisted. "Not only if it comes to fighting, but the negotiations." Duncan nodded his agreement.
Alistair, silent up until this point in the conversation, leaned forward and placed his hands on the table.
"I have always known it would come to this one day," he said. "You are the children of adventurers, and idleness is not in your blood. You will to go Ostagar, if," he held up a finger, "you promise to return safely. No funny business, I mean it."
Eleanor clasped her hands together, her blue eyes sparkling, and nodded vigorously. Duncan merely looked pleased.
"Now run along and pack some things," Alistair waved his hand at them. "I want to speak to your mother. You will leave tomorrow at noon."
As they left the courtyard, he turned to Charlotte.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked in a worried tone.
"Aren't you? We've taught them well, and it's time they begin to use it." He put his arms around her. "Now relax, and let's enjoy this sunshine while it lasts. Cullen and the Wardens will watch out for them."
They sat together, not speaking, until the sun sank below the ramparts of the palace walls.