Rowena's crown itched.
She and Alistair were both seated on their thrones, dressed in full royal regalia. Leliana had finally managed to finish Rowena's gown, and after much debate had got Rowena to wear it.
It is pretty, Rowena admitted reluctantly, resisting the urge to rip everything off and don the nearest armor she could find. The gown was made of light blue silk with intricate flower designs along the hems. Her long red hair was falling down her shoulders, and the delicate crown of the Queen of Ferelden rested on her head. So, yes, she did look quite beautiful.
But being beautiful doesn't run a country.
Her irritation must have shown, for at that moment someone gently placed their hand on hers. She looked over to see Alistair grinning at her empathetically. He rolled his eyes at the absolutely massive crown resting on his own head. She smiled and squeezed his hand a little.
Suddenly, the sounds of blaring trumpets jolted them into the moment. They both rose to their feet as the massive doors leading to the throne room were burst open. A large procession of men and women filed in, lead by a simply extraordinary woman.
She had long brown hair, brown eyes, and a pale complexion. Her gown, which looked like it was made out of enough fabric to wrap her body three times over, was a shocking bright red that stood out dramatically amidst the dull colors of her entourage and gave nice contrast to her skin tone. Her tiara was enormous, a dazzling work in silver, sapphire, and diamond. She walked regally and gracefully, bearing her imperial presence down upon all who saw her.
Rowena, however, was not impressed. Her massive gown meant that she would be useless in battle, and while her gracefulness might do her well at a ball, it certainly would not help her against a darkspawn. A small look of condescension crept into her eyes, and she took a step forward off the dais.
"Empress Celene," she began.
However, the empress breezed right past her and fell prostrate at Alistair's feet. "My King," she purred in a thick accent. "How I have dreamed of this moment."
Rowena stood up straighter, completely taken aback. She looked back quickly at Alistair, who was looking at Celene as if she had walked into the room naked swinging a dead cat in the air.
"It's, uh, nice to meet…you…too," he said slowly as the empress began to kiss his boot. She rose to her feet; Alistair took a few steps back as if afraid she was going to bite him.
"But I forget myself! I have brought you un cadeau!" She motioned for a finely dressed elven servant to step forward with the absurdly large canvas he was carrying. The elf turned it around to reveal it to be a large rendition of Celene dressed as a Tevinter archon.
"Something with which you can remember me by after I have parted," the empress said with a wink.
Alistair and Rowena exchanged glances with each other, not sure whether to laugh out loud or be slightly offended. Clearing his throat, Alistair gestured to Eruestan and said, "Thank you, Your Majesty. We have a gift for you as well."
Eruestan stepped forward, dressed in an impressive suit of chainmail whose enchantments made it shimmer in the sunlight. He bowed, presenting a book encrusted in jewels to the empress. She took it with interest.
"We have heard many things about your intellect in Ferelden, Your Imperial Majesty," Eruestan said respectfully. "This is a tome on the life of Andraste written based on research from the Temple of the Sacred Ashes. I hope it meets the standards of the famous Imperial Library in Val Royeaux."
The empress looked shocked. Collecting herself, she cleared her throat and said, "I was unaware of the freedom of the Ferelden elves. In Orlais, for an elf to speak to a nobleman or a lady without being spoken to first…that is a very strange thing. But, then I am sure that I am mistaken."
Eruestan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
"Eruestan is my advisor," Alistair said stiffly.
The empress's eyes widened. "Your advisor? Oh! Well, that changes things…I beg your pardon, good ser."
Eruestan bowed his head coldly.
"This is my advisor, Guillame du Jader," Celene said quickly, trying to bridge over the awkwardness.
A thin, sallow, black-haired man stepped forward calmly. "It is a great honor to meet the fabled Grey Wardens," he said without a trace of an Orlesian accent.
"Ah, yes! But surely the greatest would be the man who slew the Archdemon!" Celene said slyly, bowing her head in Alistair's direction.
"Actually, that was a combined effort," Alistair said quietly. "I only managed to slice a hole in its neck, and that was only after Eruestan was able to distract it with his magic. Rowena was the one to finally bring it down."
The empress slowly turned to Rowena and cast an analyzing eye over her. Rowena wasn't sure what Celene was looking for, but she decided that she didn't like the way the empress was staring at her. Putting on a transparent smile, Rowena gave her best Teyrn's daughter curtsy and said, "Enchantée, Madame Impératrice." Bet she didn't see that coming, she thought smugly.
The empress, however, seemed unimpressed at Rowena's skills in Orlesian. "Ah yes. Queen Rowena." The woman assumed an odd expression. "We have heard…much…about you in Orlais as well."
"All good, I trust?" Rowena said calmly.
Empress Celene raised a finely molded eyebrow. "I suppose by Ferelden standards, yes…however, from the things I have heard, you would be considered…unique in Orlais."
Rowena felt her blood boil. "Oh really? Because I can fight, instead of sitting around waiting for a man to save me like a…like a" (what had her mother called them again?) "like an Orlesian wallflower?"
"Quite frankly, yes," the empress said, eyes flashing. "But then, I suppose standards for ladies in Ferelden are a little different than those in Orlais…wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?" she coyly asked Alistair. He froze, unwilling to insult the empress yet also not wanting to degrade his own country.
Leliana rushed forward to the rescue, eyes wide. "Your Imperial Majesty, you must be tired from your journeys. Please, allow me to show you to your chambers."
"Of course," the empress said coolly, staring back at Rowena with an unreadable look on her face. Rowena glowered back defiantly, not flinching under the older woman's gaze.
"Follow me, please," Leliana said, ending the tension. With an enraged look at Rowena, Leliana led the empress out of the throne room and into the private quarters of the palace. Barely able to constrain herself, Rowena motioned for the various courtiers to take their leaves as well.
"Did you win that?" Eruestan confusedly asked Rowena as the last noble left.
"Does it look like I give a damn?" she snapped, temper flaring. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and said, "Forgive me. I need to go stab something." She turned to Alistair. "Care to join me?"
"As long as I'm not the one getting stabbed," he grinned. He started to take off his crown, then stopped suddenly. "Although…perhaps it would be better if we entertained our Imperial guest?"
"More like an Imperial b—"
However, before she could finish, a wild look from Eruestan and Alistair cut her off. She spun around to see Guillame du Jader standing to her side.
He bowed before them. "If you please, Your Majesties, I would like to speak with you about the security at the palace."
The two looked at him strangely, but nodded and sat down at their thrones. "There really isn't much to it," Alistair said simply. "We have archers along all the walls and at every guard tower, and four squadrons of guards patrolling the grounds at all hours. Every entrance to the palace is watched over by at least four guards, and the gates leading to Fort Drakon and the city are both watched by their own small armies."
The man scribbled down all that they said on a piece of parchment, nodding intently. "When does the guard change?"
"Every six hours," Rowena said. "No one leaves their post until their replacement has arrived."
Guillame scribbled something down hastily. "Any secret passages leading into the palace?"
"Well, they wouldn't be very secret if we told you, now would they?" Rowena said with a smile.
He bowed once more, and began to take his leave. "I shall see Your Majesties at the banquet tonight?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Rowena muttered under her breath. Alistair disguised his laugh as a cough and said, "Certainly."
With a final bow, the Orlesian turned around and walked out of the throne room. Rowena leapt off her throne and shouted, "Last one to the training grounds has to sit next to Celene!"
"You're on!" And with that, the King and Queen of Ferelden chased each other down the palace corridors like children, Orlesian politics completely forgotten.