Jessimyn stood at the back of the large hall, surveying the crowd. The turnout was great, but she'd been expecting that. What she hadn't been expecting was the large number of people who felt it was perfectly appropriate to twist around in their seats and stare at her. That bothered Jessimyn a great deal. It was the coronation of their king. Surely that was more important than staring at some woman in armor at the back of the room. Not that she was just any woman, though. She was the Hero of Ferelden, they'd all been calling her. Maker, how she hated that title.

"You should be up there with him," came a voice from her side.

"Shut up," Jessimyn said through gritted teeth. "This is his day, and he should not have to compete with me for attention. Though it seems that's the case anyway. I shouldn't have even come. I hate being stared at"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," said the man standing at her side.

Jessimyn turned to look at him. "Yes, I am well aware what you meant. But I am tired of having this conversation. Please leave me alone."

"And I am tired of you avoiding this conversation, my sweet sister. When are you going to tell me the truth? Your lies may work on everyone else, but they won't work on me. They never have."

"Will you please be quiet," said Jessimyn, noticing a few more faces turning around to look their way.

"Only if you agree to come to my sitting room. After this show is over, of course, but before the feast. Surely you don't need as much time as all the other noblewomen to ready themselves for tonight's party."

"Fine, Fergus. Whatever you want. Just go away."

Grinning, Fergus patted her cheek. "Just make sure you keep your promise. I'd hate to make a scene, rushing all about the royal palace to look for you."

Before Jessimyn could respond, he was gliding away. She scowled at her brother's back before she realized there were still people watching, though most were trying not to be quite so blatantly obvious about it. With an effort Jessimyn relaxed her face, turning her attention back to the man standing on the dais at the front of the hall. If someone had told her a month ago that this was where she would be today, she wouldn't have believed them. The Grey Wardens had gathered their armies, they'd defeated the archdemon, and they stopped the Blight. And now Alistair, her companion of the past year and a half as well as the only other surviving Grey Warden in all of Ferelden, was being made king. The effort it took to keep her emotions from showing on her face was giving her a headache.

When the ceremony ended, Jessimyn ducked out the back of the hall before anyone could corner her. It was a near thing, too. While most of the people were moving towards the front of the spacious room to be nearer to their new king, some were quite obviously moving in her direction. She moved to the back hallways, those usually only used by servants. The servants she passed gaped at her, but most only bowed and jumped out of her way. After getting turned around twice, she made it to the apartments held for the Teryn of Highever. Not pausing to knock, Jessimyn threw open the door and went inside.

The sitting room was large and lavishly decorated. There was a large fireplace at the back of the room, and there were a number of chairs placed before it. Short hallways stretched to both sides of the sitting room, and there were bedrooms on each side, with a room for the servants at the ends of both hallways. Fergus was seated, and a manservant was pouring something for him. At the sound of the door crashing open, the servant jumped, but Fergus just looked up with a smile.

"Looks like I won't have to send out the search party after all. Daynin, please pour my sister a drink, then leave us."

The servant silently obeyed, and Fergus gestured to the chair beside him. "Sit, Jess. I suppose it was too much to ask for you to change out of your armor? I guess I should just be grateful that you've come at all."

"Fergus, please," Jessimyn began, but her brother talked over her.

"Look, Jess, I don't mean to be unkind. I know you've been through a lot, I do. But there's too much here you're not telling me. You used to be able to talk to me about anything."

"You used to know when to leave well enough alone," muttered Jessimyn.

Fergus sighed. "We are not children anymore. Would that we could go back to those days, but we can't. I am the head of this house now, and I want you to talk to me."

"Fine," said Jessimyn. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know why you weren't up there with Alistair. King Alistair, I guess I should say. And before you try to sidestep my question or pretend like you don't understand my meaning, I'll spell it out for you. You could be his queen. You probably should be his queen. Why are you not?"

Jessimyn grabbed the filled snifter sitting on the table and drained it. Fergus' eyes shot upwards. "Is it that bad?" He asked, his voice almost gentle.

Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, which made Fergus wince, Jessimyn gave a shrug. "It's... complicated."

"Enlighten me," said Fergus, leaning forward a little in his chair. "You love him, don't you? You can try to deny it, if you really feel it's necessary, but I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you, for that matter. We could make a powerful, political marriage with a man you already love, yet you refuse. Why?"

Jessimyn shook her head. "It would never work. For one, I'm a Grey Warden now. Grey Wardens forsake all titles they once had when they..."

"Alistair is also a Grey Warden," Fergus said, cutting her off. "And yet he is king. Try again."

"I am one of two remaining Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden. It is my duty to rebuild..."

"Nonsense," said Fergus, once again interrupting her. "So you travel to Weisshaupt in the Anderfels and bring back some Grey Wardens with you. Even if you were to travel over land, you could be there and back within a year."

"Fergus, are you going to let me speak?"

He grinned at her. "Are you going to stop making ridiculous excuses? You do love him, don't you?"

Jessimyn grunted and grabbed her brother's glass, draining it as well. Fergus frowned at her.

"That's expensive brandy, you know. It's meant to be savored. And that was a relatively easy question to answer. Only a 'yes' or 'no' is required. You don't even have to elaborate."

Jessimyn shook her head. "I told you, it's complicated."

"You may think the circumstances are complicated, but whether or not you love him should be apparent enough to you. So what is it?"

"Fergus, we could never..."

"Yes or no?"

Jessimyn tried again. "Even if I wanted to..."

"Yes or no, Jess?"

She gave her brother an angry look he knew all to well. "You don't understand, but..."

Fergus raised his voice. "Yes or no, Jess!"

"Yes, Maker damn you!" Jessimyn seemed shocked when the words escaped her mouth. She shook her head, her voice softening. "But we both know that, when it comes down to it, love doesn't matter. I could never be queen. Even if I wanted to be, and I do not, let me assure you. But even if I did, it wouldn't work."

For a wonder, Fergus made no smart comment to that. He peered at his sister for a moment, then stood up and walked over to retrieve the decanter from a small cabinet. He refilled both glasses, started to put the decanter back, then thought better of it and left it on the table. Swirling the snifter around in his hand, Fergus asked, "Why wouldn't it work, Jess? You are the daughter of a Teryn, as was our previous queen. Had you been older, you could have been Cailan's wife, as I'm sure you're aware. A union between a Cousland and a Theirin would be a powerful one. You know the nobles would accept you. They'd probably fall all over themselves to show their approval of the match. So give me a real answer, if you have one."

Minutes passed before Jessimyn spoke. "I will try to explain, but please do not interrupt me. This will be difficult to put in the words."

Fergus merely nodded and picked up his glass. He leaned back in his chair and balanced the snifter on his knee.

"Thank you," said Jessimyn. She took a deep breath before beginning. "When one is recruited into the Grey Wardens, it's not simply a matter of being chosen for it. There's a ritual one must go through. They call it the Joining. Not everyone survives this ritual. In fact, in my Joining, I was the only recruit of three that lived. But this ritual, it... it changes you."

"What is this ritual," Fergus asked. "Something that involves magic, I assume?"

Jessimyn shook her head as she absently reached up to touch the pendant at her throat. "It's not something I can really talk about. For one, it is meant to be kept secret. But also, I don't really know how it works. Riordan managed to salvage the documents that detailed the... procedure, but I haven't yet had time to look them over. Just trust me when I say it changes a person. For one, we're able to sense darkspawn. But most important to this situation is that it... well... it likely would make it very difficult to have a child."

"How so?"

With an exasperated sigh, Jessimyn said, "I told you, I don't really understand all of it. But what I do know is that all Grey Wardens carry the taint. It's the reason we can sense the darkspawn. But a person can only live with it for so long. Alistair told me that most Grey Wardens don't hold that position for much more than 30 years or so."

The laugh that erupted from Fergus startled Jessimyn. "Oh, is that all? I think 30 years is plenty of time to have an heir or two."

"Please, just listen," said Jessimyn. "It's... it's something that could be passed along to a child. But that's assuming that one could even be conceived. I don't know of any Grey Wardens who have had children after their Joining. It will likely be hard enough for Alistair to have a child, but if both parents are Grey Wardens? Nearly impossible. Can I doom Ferelden to that?"

There was another stretch of silence as the two sipped their brandy. "You use words like 'nearly impossible' and that it would likely be difficult. But you don't know for sure, do you? You're just guessing. So it would take time to conceive. Anora was married to Cailan for five years, and they never produced an heir, but no one was really worried about it. Well, not much anyway. They were both still young, and everyone knew they had time. You're barely 20. Why throw away the chance with someone you love for a 'maybe'?"

Jessimyn gave him a sad smile. "If only I could believe you say that for my welfare. If only I didn't know you've already set your heart on being the uncle of a future king."

Fergus scowled at her. "Don't paint me as the heartless villain in this. I want what's best for you as well as what's best for the family. I think those things happen to be one and the same."

"And don't assume I'm being a selfish child. You know me better than anyone, Fergus. You know I fight for the things I want. You also know that I've never been interested in any of the men Father paraded in front of me, hoping I'd find an acceptable husband. For me to admit I love someone... you know that's not something I take lightly. You must also know I've thought about this, about what I could do so that we could still be together. I've looked at it from every angle, and if there was a way I could see to make it work, I'd do it. I just don't see a way."

Fergus frowned into his glass, and Jessimyn could tell he was trying to come up with a rebuttal to her argument. Given enough time, she knew he would come up with something, but she was too weary to deal with it just then. She finished her drink and stood up. "I should be going. My presence will be expected at the feast tonight, and I need to change."

"Actually," admitted Fergus with a sheepish smile, "I took the liberty of having your things brought here. They're in the bedroom down that way, on the right," he said, gesturing to the hallway to his left.

"Fergus..." Jessimyn began to protest, but he cut her off.

"You're still a Cousland, no matter what. It's only right that you stay here with me. Besides, I miss you so, and I'd be terribly lonely without you," he said in a mocking tone.

Jessimyn sighed, but when Fergus continued, there was no jesting in his voice. "No, really. Please stay. It's too empty here, without Mother and Father..." The pained look on his face was mirrored in his sister's visage.

"As you wish, then," said Jessimyn as she reached to give her brother a hug before turning to go towards her room.

"I'm impressed," said Fergus.

"What do you mean?" Jessimyn asked, looking at him suspiciously.

"I'm impressed that you can walk straight after all that alcohol. Since when did you become such a consummate drinker?"

"When you've seen the things I've seen, you'd start drinking more, too," said Jessimyn, her voice tinged with sadness.