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Acceptance

Alistair was taken aback. Why would she want to go there?

"I don't think you do." His face was completely serious, a rarity that made Alice pause before answering.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I do. Why, what is so terrible about it there?" Alistair shifted on his feet, looking at the ground.

"It- it isn't safe."

"Oh, because the issue of safety has stopped me so many times before." Alice snorted.

"You don't understand. Everyone is on edge. Apostates run rampant around the city; many of them blood mages—"

"Is that your professional, templar opinion?" Her tone was still light, but there was an edge to her voice that was barely noticeable. If Alistair hadn't known her for so long, he would have thought that she was only joking. He shook his head.

"It's just that… well, they aren't darkspawn. The problems of Kirkwall cannot be outmaneuvered or cut down for you to get what you want." He sighed. "I know you can handle yourself, that much is obvious." He smiled at her, a little sheepishly. "I just don't like the idea of you going away is all. It makes me… nervous. Old habits die hard, I guess." He shrugged. Alice's countenance shifted, her expression softening. She came over to him, reaching up to touch his cheek.

"I'll be fine. What's a few blood mages in the face of an impossibly large horde of darkspawn?" She smiled up at him before kissing him. He pulled her closer, running his fingers through her hair just before she pulled away. There was an almost evil glint in her eye as she looked up at him. Not that his wife could ever be considered evil…

"Is that a yes then? Will my king let me go and visit Kirkwall?" He groaned.

"As if I would be able to stop you." He almost missed her squeal of glee. How something so feminine could come from her he could not fathom. She gave him another quick kiss before hurrying over to the door that led to her chambers.

"I haven't left the palace in ages!" She said as she hefted the door open and disappeared behind it. Her voice echoed back to him the farther she got from the door. "I think the last time I left was…. Hmmm… seven years ago? Must have been. Nathaniel has been doing a splendid job in Amaranthine, almost eliminating my job completely…" Her voice trailed off. Alistair shook his head, amused, and drained his glass. He was definitely going to need more wine for this.

It wasn't like he kept her locked in the palace or anything; in fact they frequently left it. But she was never overly fond of the whole public appearance thing, always reverting back to her strange modesty. Or maybe it was the fact that she was required to wear a dress… and weapons weren't allowed, not for her to carry anyway. He sighed as he filled his glass to the brim with dark liquid. He could understand her excitement though. It had been far too long since he had fought anything, killed anything. He didn't mind too much, the politics of the court were enough of a battlefield that his stress levels were about the same as they were when he had fought the Blight… only his new battles were with words. He often thought that Alice had gotten the better deal, becoming the Commander of the Grey, heading off to Amaranthine and defeating some chillingly intelligent darkspawn. It was more than he'd gotten since becoming king. He gulped down some of his wine, leaving the glass about half empty. Or was it half full? He couldn't decide with his mood. He frowned. If he wasn't careful, he may end up convincing himself that he should join her, using his charm and good looks to get into her good graces so she would allow him to come. All to get a taste of battle.

But Eamon would have a heart attack for sure. The whole Amaranthine business had scared him far more than was necessary, but Alistair supposed that that was what came with looking after both the king and queen of Ferelden. He had never volunteered for the job and he was sure that Alice had only become queen so that she could stay with him. The thought made him smile, even after all these years. They were so alike, despite the fact that Alice had been brought up in the presence of the court and knew the formalities and manners of nobility. She just wasn't cut out for it. Her patience was not adequate enough to deal with the antics of nobles, so she was rarely there for the important meetings about national affairs. No, she stayed in the background and listened to him lamented over why he had ever agreed to this awful job. That was all the farther she was involved in court politics. Alice would have made a splendid politician if she had been blessed with more tolerance of stupidity along with a different sense of humor. Alistair often found himself considering some of her advice more seriously than he should have. She delighted in the many quirks of the teryns and arls of the court, telling him to act in such a way as to make them all rise in rebellion against him in a second. She would have rather had them all at each other's throats over the silly things that she had planted in their imaginations rather than to having them at each other's throats over the trivial things that they imagined by themselves and having to cater to their "needs" to keep the country in one piece.

This was the principle reason why he needed her here. Alice's sense of humor was about the only thing that kept him sane. He had never wanted to be king, but the job had grown on him despite its severe drawbacks. He cared for his people a great deal, but those that represented them were altogether too much. Alice's opinion of them and their actions kept him in reality. She kept him grounded and out of the inane little world they called "Ferelden" where hypocrisy was their main attraction. He sighed as he thought this. This was why he didn't want to see her go. The trip to Kirkwall was long, so even if she only stayed for a week, she would be gone for more than a month. But there was really nothing he could do to stop her. The woman was a brick wall once she had made up her mind. He was sure that her stubbornness was actually what killed the Archdemon, not any kind of skill in swordplay. He chuckled to himself at this thought, but quickly composed his face as he heard Alice returning. There was an awful lot of clanking coming
from the open doorway, and he was going to check it out when Alice appeared, weighed down with a lot of...crap.

"What is all that?" Alistair couldn't keep a note of disgust from his tone. With a crash, she dropped everything on the floor. He flinched at the sound, only wondering what the servants would think of that at this time of night.

"It's all my armor and weapons from the 'good old days'!" She exclaimed, clearly excited. Yes, he was going to need a lot more wine for this. He quickly finished his glass and refilled it as Alice began sorting through the pile on the floor.

"Oooh look at this!" She hefted some reddish-purple armor into the air. "Do you remember this?" Her eyes sparkled in the most irresistible way. Alistair walked over and sat in his chair, putting his elbows on his knees so he could get a closer look at the armor.

"Is that the armor you wore in the Battle of Denerim? Wade's famous drake scale plate armor?" He asked, surprised at how good it looked.

"Yeah! How cool is that?" She beamed, turning the armor this way and that, inspecting every inch of it. "Do you think it still fits?" She enquired, looking at him eagerly.

"As if you've gained any weight." He snorted. The way the woman ate, he was surprised at how she seemed to have lost weight since they met rather than gained it.

"Hey, you never know. Things happen." She glanced away quickly. Alistair considered this remark for a split second. Was she really saying… really?

"Maker's breath, are you telling me you're pregnant?" Alistair's voice rose in a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The subject of providing an heir for the throne had been dominated their conversations over the past year or so, their people were getting antsy.

"Oh Maker no." She replied, waving the subject away. "I just wanted to see what your reaction would be." She gave him a devilish smile. When he didn't react, her face fell. "Well it's not like we haven't been trying. For the love of the Maker, don't look at me like that! I'll start to feel bad." She pouted.

"It would have been nice though." Alistair murmured, looking into his glass of wine. She reached up and put a hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze.

"I know. It would be nice." They shared a solemn silence before Alice's mood returned to a bubbling excitement.

"I don't know if I like this style anymore… I might just need to get some new armor altogether. I'm sure Wade won't mind." She placed the armor aside and continued digging, flinging different pieces of armor into different piles.

"Here, Alistair, look at this." Without looking up, she handed him a rather battered old shield. He turned it over, and then ran his hand over the Chantry symbol emblazoned on its front.

"My old templar shield." His voice was a bit flat, his face emotionless. "Why do you have this? I thought you got rid of it after we bought all of those supplies from that traveling merchant near the Circle." He looked down at her until she met his gaze.

"I thought you'd like to keep it since you had it for so long. I thought it might have some sort of sentimental value for you." She seemed disappointed.

"I never liked that templar training. Sure the fighting stuff came in handy, but the whole lot of them were too bloody serious and righteous all the time. The Maker must have gotten fed up with my prayers for a savior. Duncan seemed to fulfill that request well enough." He dropped the shield onto a nearby pile of stuff that he thought was destined for the trash. Alice quickly snatched it back, cradling it to her chest, her face dark, eyes accusing. "What?" He said, clearly confused.

"You can't look past the templar days? I mean, you must have had this shield for months and months before I came along and gave you a new one."

"Sure, I had it for a while after Duncan recruited me. But it's just a shield Alice, no more, no less." She looked down at the shield in her arms. After a moment, she muttered something unintelligible and placed it with the dragon plate armor.

"Pardon?" Alistair asked, leaning closer to her so that he could hear what she said.

"I said, 'You had that when we first met.'" She looked up at him, a touch of sadness in her eyes. He looked at her quizzically. Then it dawned on him.

"You're a sentimentalist!" He said quietly. "You are a sentimentalist!" He repeated triumphantly when she didn't respond. She crossed her arms defiantly across her chest.

"So what if I am?" Her expression made him laugh. He bent down and kissed her cheek.

"I think it's cute." He saw her fight against the smile that played across her lips, a battle she ultimately lost.

"Yeah well, don't tell anyone. I don't think it very becoming of the Hero of Ferelden, Commander of the Grey to be a 'sentimentalist', as you put it." She returned to sorting. He contented himself with watching; occasionally remarking on how good something looked or how he remembered purchasing a certain item. The pile had dwindled to mostly weapons by the time that Alice handed him something else.

"How about this?" She said, watching his expression. He took another shield in his hand, this one in better shape, if only a little dusty from its stay in Alice's storage. He stared for a long time at the griffon engraved on its front, tracing its outline with a finger.

"It's Duncan's shield." He whispered, tearing his eyes away from it only to give his wife a quick look. "I didn't know you still had this." She smiled and said.

"Of course I do, I would never be able to get rid of something that means so much to you." At this, Alistair turned his gaze on her, taking in her earnest expression.

"Huh. What a lucky man I am. How did I get you?" He murmured. She blushed and muttered.

"Oh stop. You're getting all mushy on me."

"What else do you have?" He said, expressing interest in the small pile of arms and armor at his feet for the first time. She beamed and rummaged in the bottom of the pile. She dragged some ratty looking armor out from between a heavy looking shield and a massive long sword. She flung it at him and waited expectantly for a response.

"No way!" He exclaimed, shooting her a surprised look. "No way!" Alistair lifted the armor, letting it unfold to glint in the firelight. It looked dreadful; there was almost no padding left between the sections of splintmale. He admired it for a little while before he held it next to his face, turning to his wife and asking,

"Do you think it still fits?" She burst out laughing.

"Oh, I don't know, it might be a tight fit." Alistair looked scandalized, resulting in more laughter from his wife.

"But seriously," he said, his face solemn. Alice's laughter cut off abruptly as she looked at her husband in confusion.

"Um, I don't know perhaps we could get it fitted…?" It was Alistair's turn to laugh. "I doubt Eamon would approve of his Royal Highness, King Alistair Theirin," his voice took on a ridiculous tone, imitating the stuffy old caller at all of the royal events. Alice giggled as he continued. "Husband to the great and mighty Hero of Ferelden, Commander of the Grey and Arlessa of Amaranthine, Alice Cousland-Theirin, walk around in this old splintmale." Alistair's voice returned to normal as he finished his sentence. Alice shrugged.

"Whatever pleases you, O King of Ferelden." Alistair shot her a look of disgust as she returned to her pile of old relics. As she finished sorting the last few rusted out shields and swords, Alistair gazed on the pile of things that she had set aside. It was not large, but as he looked on each of them, he relived the times that he relied on those items to save his life. He lost himself in the memories of the Blight for the first time in a long time. Those had not been his best days, despite the luck he had had in finding and keeping his wife.

"Hello?" Alistair shook his head as Alice pulled him from his memories. She was waving a hand in front of his face. "When can we go and see Wade?" She smiled sweetly at him.

"Not for a few days I should think. All of my lovely advisors will want to know what the goings on of Kirkwall are so that they can plan appropriately. I'll see if I can work a hole into my schedule soon." Alice pouted. "Besides, I don't know if Wade is even here. Maker knows what he could be doing since you encouraged him with all of those rare materials in Amaranthine. He's probably trying to make some armor out of diamonds as we speak." Alice pouted some more.

"Well call him back here. You are the king after all."

"And you are the queen. You can certainly call him back here if you want to."

"Really? I can call him back to Denerim?" Alice beamed. Alistair rolled his eyes.

"I swear woman, you must give me lessons in acting all innocent. You have a natural talent." Alice stood and kissed Alistair's cheek before going over to the desk by the window. As she scribbled a letter, surely demanding Wade back in Denerim before the end of the week, Alistair took in the mess before him.

"Should we clean this up?" He asked, looking dubiously at the pile of great swords by his foot.

"No, just leave it. I can clean it up in the morning." Alice stood behind him and he had to fight his startled jump. She really needed to teach him how to sneak up on people like that too. It would really come in handy…

"I missed you." She said, leaning over his shoulder to kiss him. He was surprised by this change of pace. His hand cupped her face and he pulled her closer. When they parted, he looked at her and said.

"Oh really?"

"Yes really." She smiled at him and leaned in for another kiss. Alistair put a finger to her lips, stopping her.

"Nope, not until this is picked up." He gestured to the pile of stuff surrounding him. Alice groaned.

"You're going to kill the mood Alistair."

"What mood?" He looked up at her, his eyes wide in innocence.

"I. Missed. You." She punctuated each word with a kiss that lasted longer each time.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how this is cleaning up this mess." Alistair remarked after the last kiss. Alice sighed in obvious frustration.

"Must I spell it out for you?"

"You're so cute when you're mad, did you know that?" Alistair grinned as he stood and pulled her in the direction of the bed