2. A Stranger in the Night
It was a whole moon after the battle. News of the royal marriage and coronation of the new King rapidly spread far and wide, throughout Ferelden and beyond. Nobles from the far-flung corners of Thedas had started to gather in Denerim to witness the momentous occasion. Congratulatory messages flooded the castle. The lovers had little time for each other, as Alistair was distracted with the necessary preparations, along with his soon-to-be wife, Anora.
The Queen was, without doubt, a very beautiful woman. She was tall and slender, and moved with such elegance and spoke with such charm that only nobles trained from a very young age could have learnt to master. She was well-loved by her people during King Cailan's reign, for she was wise, just and compassionate. Sadly, Cailan and she had no children, and rumours abound about her barrenness. She was older than Solona by a number of years, although her looks were youthful and did not betray her age. It was hoped that the Queen would bear the new King an heir soon, if she were not truly barren and still able to do so.
Solona dutifully partook in the palace celebrations, as was expected of her. She dressed effortlessly in a beautiful turquoise gown, delicate Carpaian lace adorning the hems. Alistair had it made just for her. Her mother's pendant hung about her neck. The gown complimented her figure well, she knew, and she had enjoyed the admiring glances from strangers and friends alike. But the day was long and she had now grown tired of the constant exchange of pleasantries and small talk with the nobles, and wished only for rest and solitude.
As she lounged in her chambers, she reflected on the situation at hand. She was uncertain about how she truly felt, having been unofficially relegated to the role of mistress to the King. A position she did not enjoy being in, but had little say in the matter, for it pained her greatly to imagine herself apart from her beloved. She was not surprised that Anora was in agreement with this arrangement. For she knew that Anora did not love Alistair, nor did he love her. A marriage of convenience, as Alistair had put it. And then there was the other, much larger issue that she had yet to deal with.
"Your heart seems heavy with worry, my dear friend. Pray talk to me," a friendly, lilting voice spoke, rousing her from her thoughts.
"Leliana! Please, don't sneak up on me like that again." Solona turned around, a smile breaking on her face as she recognized her old friend, the bard. They embraced warmly.
Solona poured her a glass of warm spiced wine. The bard was a very pretty creature, and feisty too. She had flaming red, shoulder-length hair, which suited her irascible temperament only too well. Her movements were almost feline in nature – stealthy and quick, yet graceful. She was dressed in a typical Orlesian gown, very elaborate and flaunting an attractive cleavage. A swan-shaped pendant adorned her neck, a favourite of hers which she wore often. Solona had never seen her without it.
Leliana revealed that she had returned to Orlais after the battle. Whilst there she had been regaling the Orlesians with tales and songs of their adventures during the Blight, as she travelled around the country.
"And I think I may have fallen in love," the bard said, coyly.
"Tell me about him," Solona asked, curious. "Or is it a her?" she pressed with a sly grin, much to the embarrassment of the bard. It was no secret that the red-head enjoyed the company of both men and women alike.
"His name is Geraint and like me, is a travelling minstrel," she smiled, then added, "He is very strong, and passionate, and generously endowed," she said as she fell over herself, giggling like a child.
"Your exploits would certainly put others to shame," Solona laughed. "We'll have a drink to your new-found love, if one can call it that." The two women clicked wine glasses and drank heartily. In a short while, the wine carafe was drained, turning the atmosphere a little more sombre.
"Tell me, Solona, for I am curious about something," Leliana said, putting her glass down. "If you don't mind me asking, of course," she continued, "I have always thought it strange that Morrigan should suddenly disappear the night before the final battle. I confess, I saw her leave your room in the foulest mood that evening. What did you and she talk about?"
Solona looked away. "Oh Leliana, I don't wish to discuss that right now. We simply had a disagreement; and Morrigan, being as she is, became most unhappy when things were not to go her way. I know not where she went." Solona was clearly unnerved. Leliana, although unsatisfied, wisely let the matter rest.
"Come then, my dear. We've got a wedding to attend. And you look absolutely ravishing," she said, taking Solona's arm as they made their way to the banquet hall. On the way down, Solona stumbled on a step, apologising, "The wine has clearly gone to my head," she smiled, and Leliana couldn't help but notice that the mage had looked pale and tired the whole time.
Formalities of the wedding and coronation had taken place in the throne room, and now the guests were assembled in the dining hall for a banquet. Solona admired the bride and groom from afar, looking resplendent in their ceremonial finery. Alistair was his handsome self, but he seemed a little different. He is more confident and almost Kingly in his mannerisms, she thought. Anora was, needless to say, more beautiful than she had ever seen her. She wore her hair down, making her look much less formal and more at ease. Solona watched as Alistair cast admiring glances at the Queen, feeling a small pang of jealousy, which she tried to fight. Is it possible that he feels something for her? She quickly banished the thought from her mind, knowing that such a thing could easily consume her.
Music played as the guests erupted in song and dance. A small dwarf, obviously drunk, clambered onto a table and danced a joyful jig, before tripping over and tumbling head-long onto the floor. Alistair and Anora clapped and laughed at the spectacle. They look so happy, she could not help noticing. He had his arm around her waist. They will lie together for the first time tonight. The thought had caused a sickness to rise in her stomach, and she decided to depart before she retched.
There was much merriment for the rest of the evening as the celebrations continued. Laughter and music rang from the palace halls, echoing for miles into the distance. The night was young and warm, although Solona felt a chill as she walked silently through the palace gardens, deep in thought. She strolled alone, having sent her maid-servant away for the night.
"Either you have grown tired of feasting, or are not a fan of the King. So which is it?"
Solona was startled by the stranger. She collected herself. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
He was tall and slender, and admittedly, quite handsome. His clothes were that of a nobleman, yet his face was rugged and battle-worn. He had long dark hair, tied neatly at the back. He had strikingly beautiful eyes, which were as dark as the night sky. His hands were calloused but strong. He wore a signet ring on his finger, with an imprint of a crest she did not recognize.
"No, but I've watched you pace the gardens. You are truly a sight to behold, my lady."
"Thank you, kindly. Tell me, what are you doing out here? You haven't been following me, I hope."
"I might ask the same of you. But no, I merely needed the fresh air." He added without hesitation, "I must confess the food, expensive as it was, has been less than palatable. Yet I do not think there is a better fool than Alistair Theirin to be on the throne."
"Your honesty is refreshing," Solona laughed, then added, "You are a noble, are you not?"
"You deduced that from my attire. And yes, that is correct. But my lady, you are not of noble birth, and I do not mean that in an offensive manner."
"No offence taken, stranger."
"Yet, here you are, at court. You are someone special to the Queen, or perhaps the King. But I am a friend of Anora's, yet she has not mentioned you. Judging by your outstanding beauty and expensive dress, I might even suspect that you are the Kings' secret lover. Of course, I could be wrong." He paused, looked at her and frowned slightly, adding, "And there is something else, but I cannot put my finger on it."
Solona was taken aback, but remained composed. "Well, stranger, you have me intrigued. I know not your name, nor you mine, but let it thus remain so, my mysterious friend," she smiled beguilingly. "I would love to stay and talk, but it is late and my bed beckons. I must take my leave now. Perhaps we will meet again."
"Sooner rather than later, I do hope, my lady," he said as he took her hand and kissed it lightly, his eyes never straying from hers.
As she walked away, her heartbeat quickened and she felt faint, knowing that he was still watching her. Lying in bed that night, she thought only of the man with the beautiful dark eyes. He reminded her of someone, but she did not know whom.