The first time Elissa met the king of Ferelden was at his coronation. She was fourteen, and dressed up as befitted the only daughter of the Teyrn of Highever, and standing close to the king, again, because protocol demanded it.
She remembers, to this day, how scared he looked, and sad.
Afterwards, he talked to her, smiled and nodded when she said "Congratulations" and "I'm sorry for your loss," and was quickly distracted by Anora, a lady-friend of hers, the daughter of the Teyrn of Gwaren. She remembered her father muttered something to Fergus about how that would be bad for Ferelden, that there were Teyrns to protect against coups and civil wars, and wondering why one would want to have a coup. According to Brother Aldous, people tended to die during coups and civil wars.
Her father had fussed with her hair and clothing and told her to go amuse the young king some more, and she had obliged, darting around a stone pillar and through a tiny servants' door she had seen him enter while her father and brother had been talking.
It led to the larder, which was convenient for the servants, she supposed. The king was curled behind some old sacking, crying and rocking in the corner.
"It'll be okay," she offered, creeping towards him.
He looked up at her. It was hard to remember he was even older than Fergus when he looked like that.
"I don't know what to do!" he said, quite unbecomingly, she thought. His cheeks were pink and smeared with tears. She drew out a handkerchief to hand to him.
"Well, I should think no king does. That's why he needs advisors—my father will certainly help you. And Anora's." She tried to ignore the way her delicate embroidery was being abused.
"Right," he said after a few more rounds with her handkerchief. "Right. I should return before I am missed. And you, young lady, should not go off to larders with older men." He smiled at her, looking much more kingly. She scowled at him, not the least because she hardly considered him to be a man.
When they emerged, she found Anora, and washed her hands of the boy, political consequences be damned. She could hardly be expected to marry that baby.
She saw him frequently after that, as her father tried to make a case for their marriage, despite Teyrn Loghain's influence.
They sneaked off to the library sometimes, to the quiet little study, and he taught her many things about being a woman.
The memory of his kisses still warms her, and she tries to keep in mind that first impressions aren't everything. He taught her a man's touch, and she knows she's lucky it was someone as skilled and gentle as him, even if the thought is a little insulting—she deserved his undivided attention. Instead, she'd had marriage negotiations and his established lovers to contend with.
For a time, she disliked being nobility.
Then he announced his engagement to Anora, and she loathed being nobility.
She learned to fight with the boys, imprinted a Mabari warhound, and generally made herself unmarriageble.
She thinks she might have been in love.