Chapter 3

King Alistair had called for an informal audience of every ruling Lord or Lady of Ferelden that had gathered for the annual Landsmeet. In addition, he had also invited First Enchanter Irving, the Grand Cleric of the Chantry and the High-Commander of the Templars.

He could have done this as part of the ongoing court proceedings during the Landsmeet but for once it was not the Nobility petitioning the King, but instead the other way round. He also wanted only those whose voices would vote in such a ruling and no retinues, guards, servants around. He didn't want word of this to get out just yet, even if the decision went against him. It was also something he would abide by, even if it didn't go the way he wanted.

Clad in the simple tunic, shirt, breeches and boots he preferred over the formal royal attire he was forced to endure when he sat on his Throne, he looked like a fairly unassuming but good looking young man. Until one took a longer look and saw the strength and fluidity in his tall body as he paced absently back and forth. One could also be forgiven by mistaking the sword at his hip to be an affectation but anyone who knew him, realised how deadly he could be with it.

Alistair stopped pacing and stood in an easy stance as the last of the invited nobility filed into the room, and the door was closed behind them.

He nodded and smiled at those he knew well, especially Fergus, the Teryrn of Highever and also Lyssa's brother. While she might not have grown up within the family, they had kept in touch with her throughout her tutelage at the Circle. He'd had a private talk with Fergus the previous day and asked his thoughts. Fergus had been surprised yet pleased, but warned what Alistair asked might be too much for the more rigid members of Ferelden's Nobility. He had promised his support however, which was all Alistair had hoped for.

Forestalling formal bows and platitudes, he invited everyone to sit down and partake of the food and drink he had ordered to be laid out. He sat at the head of the table and did so himself, chatting amiably with those around him.

Finally, a nervous tension started to fill the room, Alistair had to restrain himself from grinning outright. If he'd managed to achieve anything as Ferelden's King is was for his people not to underestimate him, nor expect the expected.

He stood up and the room hushed expectantly. He glanced at Fergus and was relieved to be met by an encouraging smile.

"My Lords and Ladies, I apologise for this somewhat informal affair, but I have something I need to discuss with you all." He paused for a moment, looking around the room to see who was openly curious, and who was already in a defensive posture, arms crossed. He was pleasantly surprised to see more of the former.

"As it is a private matter, I would rather it remained so, at least for now" he continued, looking as stern as could.

"I come before you, not only as your King but also as a man in a dilemma. I'm hoping you can help me resolve this in a way to benefit all". He definitely had their attention now and decided the time had come to lay his plan out.

"Most of you have heard the rumours that I and the Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander Lyssa have been involved romantically. I wish to confirm here and now, that not only are those rumours true, but that she also carries my child".

He'd chosen to be blunt and to the point when he could have couched it in flowery language. He detested having to dance around a point and did it enough in the official court.

After a few shocked comments and even a couple of congratulations, he was surprised there hadn't been a complete uproar.

He looked at the ceiling to make sure it was still there and then back at the wary but attentive faces peering at him.

Unexpected and now unsure what to say, having been prepared to have to defend himself verbally, he just kind of mutely looked at them. He hoped he looked serene and Kingly but suspected he just looked like an idiot. He cleared his voice.

"Any questions?" he asked lightly.

"Just one really, Your Majesty" a laconic voice from the back of the room spoke up. Alistair gestured for the speaker to stand and ask. It was Arl Teagan, grinning at him, and Alistair rolled his eyes and smiled in return.

"What does this exactly have to do with us? What you do in your personal time is your affair as it were" he said. There was a twinkle in his eye and Alistair eyed him, then Fergus suspiciously. Fergus gave a slight nod as affirmation and Alistair straightened his shoulders.

"Here's the thing. The child the Warden-Commander Lyssa is carrying, Maker willing it survive and not be of mage talent, will be my heir. You all know I grew up as Maric's bastard and I would not have that for any child of mine. I would also very much like to honour the woman who has done so much for me and my country. I want her to be my Wife."

There it was finally, the uproar. It amused Alistair no end that he could have trotted out any number of women all pregnant with his children and no one would have batted an eyelid. As soon as he wanted to MARRY one of them and even worse, a MAGE. Pandemonium!

The Grand Cleric was having a conniption to his left at the thought of a mage being allowed to rule, Maker forbid. Irving was looking at him with an odd expression. Various Lords were shouting each other down and the Ladies looked more.. disappointed than anything. He gave them some time to work themselves up, checked the ceiling once more and was surprised to find it still intact and then slammed a large fist on the table and roared.

"ENOUGH"

The silence was almost deafening.

"So let me see if I have this straight. Lyssa, the woman who I not only dearly love, but is also hopefully bearing my heir, is good enough to be the Hero of Ferelden, to have saved all our sorry arses from not only the Blight, but the Civil War too, is not good enough to be my wife? Is that right?" he asked faking incredulity as he looked back and forth across the room. A lot of mouths opened and shut again and eventually shame started crossing features as he stared at them.

"But your Majesty... she's a MAGE" Bann Loren blurted out.

"You are right, she is, and thank the Maker for it. We would have fallen at Fort Drakon had she not been. What is your point?"

"Mages cannot rule" the Grand Cleric finished for him sternly. Alistair nodded as if in understanding.

"Again you are right, but I'm not asking for you to accept her as your Queen, but as my wife. To honour her as she deserves and bring legitimacy to the child she bears. Had her talent not emerged and she'd been raised a Cousland, we would not be having this conversation but since she is a highly valued mage and of a noble line, I am asking this. Will you accept her as my wife and if so, in what capacity you would have her serve Ferelden." He looked around the room solemnly, his open and handsome face showing just how serious he was in this request.

"That is the dilemma I am leaving you with, and please, deliberate as much as you need, this room is yours and servants will come and supply you with food and drink as and when you need. If you do not feel able to reach an agreement today, then the meeting will start afresh tomorrow. Send word with Ser Ferel here if you need my presence." he finished and saluted the nobles in the room.

As he turned to go, a quiet voice stopped him.

"Are you not remaining, Your Majesty?" Irving asked him.

With a wry grin Alistair replied "Oh I think everyone will talk about me better if I'm not here, don't you?".

The First Enchanter tried to stifle a laugh, covering it as a splutter instead as Alistair exited the room.

His adrenaline was up as he strode down the corridor, and he decided the best way to work it off without causing a national incident other than the one he had left back in the meeting room, was to spar. He walked towards the training grounds within the palace, next to the royal guard barracks and inquired if anyone was willing to take a turn. Most guards had sparred with Alistair before and knew him to be a formidable opponent, most often finishing extremely bruised. There were usually a few uptakes though and today was no exception.

He had just worked up a good sweat when Ser Farel appeared with a carefully neutral expression.

"Already?" Alistair asked, surprised. Ser Farel merely nodded and Alistair's heart sank. He had expected at least a day for this to be argued through or at least to let cooler heads reason with the reactionaries.

He let the guards get him out of his practice armour then washed up, towelling himself off roughly before re-dressing in the clothes he had been wearing previously. He reluctantly followed Ser Farel back to the meeting room. It was quiet now. When he had left, arguments had already been rising.

He entered the room, schooling his features as he'd been taught, to hide what he was thinking, fearing.

Standing at the front, he looked at the serious faces arrayed in front of him. Even Fergus and Teagan wouldn't meet his eyes. So that was it then, he had their answer. He would abide by it, he didn't like it one bit, but he would abide by it.

Irving rose to his feet, a formidable man still, despite his advancing years.

"Your Majesty, we have discussed as you have asked, and the answer may not be the one you are hoping for, but we have completed the task you set before us".

Alistair nodded and waited for the blow to fall.

"Marry the girl, your Majesty, before someone else does." Irving grinned as applause started up in the room, along with catcalls and whistles. Alistair burst out laughing, unable to believe his ears.

Once the room had quietened down, Alistair asked for clarification on the second question.

"Alas, that is the part I believe will not be all that you hoped for" he said, gesturing to Fergus Cousland as he slowly reseated himself.

Fergus stood and cleared his throat, looking apologetically at Alistair.

"Your Majesty, we, the nobility of Ferelden are not prepared to accept a mage as our Queen. We still believe, as do the Chantry that a mage should not rule. However, we have come to the agreement that the title of princess consort might be appropriate as there is precedent, and she is of a noble line. A merging of the bloodlines of Theirin and Cousland would be a powerful one and provided the child shows no mage talent, will be accepted as your heir."

Alistair tried to remain regal and calm as he took in the news. He thanked everyone for their time, effort and support and said they would speak again, especially as the Landsmeet would be commencing and the wedding announcement would be made. He quickly excused himself, shut the door then broke into a run down the corridor, scattering startled servants, until he reached an empty room. Slamming the door shut, he then proceeded to laugh himself silly.

It was all he had hoped for and more. He knew Lyss would not be accepted as Queen, he knew a mage would not be tolerated as a ruler and it was something that he knew Lyssa absolutely did not want, had never wanted.

That she could be his wife, the mother to their child with no fear of being found out or punished.

That was everything...