A/N: Still at least two chapters to come - and the last one is making me want to bang my head against the wall. Muse, my muse, where are thou?

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only this fanfic is completely my fault. But - I do own some cookies! Huzzah!

4. Options

There were moments she wasn't sure what to make from her husband.

Not that she minded a husband who took care of her needs, respected her showed her his affection and loved the child which wasn't his. Her heart clenched painfully each time she saw him cooing at the little Roland or holding him in his arms. 'It should have been Alistair who's holding our son,' she thought bitterly. On the other hand, she could consider herself lucky. Usually, the nobles' daughters who decided not to wait for marriage and got pregnant were married off to the first available noble and were mostly treated... well, not overly nicely. Her mother lectured her for hours about rather waiting for the right one instead of spending a lifetime like that. She took the lessons to heart and waited for the one and only - but then the things got so damn complicated. And here she is, thinking about her husband; man who's never touched her intimately, yet who married her in order to protect her and the little baby she was carrying at the time. She still felt her heart beating quicker when she remembered the only moments he touched in a way which could be considered intimate - the kiss at the ceremony and then the morning after their wedding, when he was holding her in his arms, cradling her close.

Part of her felt guilty for thinking about another man. 'It's only about a year Alistair died.' But the other part of her wanted to rest her head on someone's shoulder just to enjoy's someone's closeness. Shouldn't a husband be this someone?

"You look thoughtful this morning, my dear." Teagan' voice interrupted her musings. Blinking, she quickly flashed a smile in his direction. "Uhm, yes. Maybe just a little," she admited. Quickly, she switched the topic to different direction. "You said Eamon is coming today, isn't he?"

His face darkened. "Yes, he is." Obviously, it still was a bit painful for him to talk to Eamon after the argument he had with his older brother back before their wedding. "He said it was important. From what the guards said, they already saw him and his entourage on horizon and supposed he should be here shortly."

He caressed Roland's chubby cheek gently. "As you can surely remember," he said softly, "we didn't quite agree on the course of things last time I talked to my brother and thought it best to put my mind at ease with the presence of my wife and our son."

Breathing was suddenly hard for her when he looked her directly in the eyes, piercing through every defense she could put up and straight to her soul. Before she could say anything, they were interrupted by a servant, who informed them about arrrival of Arl Eamon.

Turning to her, Teagan asked for one thing. "Wish me goodluck, Amélie."

"Goodluck, my husband," was her reply.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared for a match of wills. Because that was what this meeting was about, he was sure of it.

o.O.o

"Seriously, Teagan, I understand that you are not overjoyed by the prospect of becoming an Arl - but as a Chancellor I can't rule Redcliffe from Denerim and Isolde doesn't want to stay there either."

"And what does it have to do with me, Eamon?" asked Teagan, clearly annoyed by his brother's insistence for immediate answer. The decision wasn't only his - yet Eamon refused to give him time to consider all pros and contras. Before the Blight he would most probably do whatever his brother asked of him. Now, he wasn't about to do it, and if he was, then not so quickly. He silenced his older brother with a wave of his hand. "You'll have to give me time to discuss this with my wife. Only then I will give you my answer."

Eamon obviously didn't like the idea of this being discussed with Amélie Cousland. Teagan suspected his brother from having a completely different match in store for him, so his marriage with Amélie interrupted his brother's scheming. And he couldn't care less. Raising from his seat, he left the study, leaving Eamon alone, not really caring it's rude. There were several important matters for him and Amélie to discuss and he didn't want to prolong the time before they start talking about them. He found her in their room where they were before he left to meet with Eamon, standing over the cradle and singing to Roland. Listening to her, he closed his eyes and leaned on the doorjamb.

"Hush now, my baby, be still love, don't cry. Sleep like you're rocked by the stream. Sleep and remember my lullaby, I'll be with you when you dream..."

Her gentle voice caressed every single note of the lullaby she was singing. 'No wonder Roland is sleeping most of the time, when she sings to him like that,' he thought tenderly. Careful not to startle her he entered the room.

She looked up to his face and gave him a curious look. "How did your meeting with Eamon go?" she asked.

Grinning dryly, he said: "As well as could be expected. He wants me to become an Arl of Redcliffe now. What do you think I should answer him?"

Amélie opened her mouth slightly, obviously surprised Eamon's request, as well as the fact that he, Teagan, asked her opinion in the matter. Gesturing for him to sit with her on the sofa, she tilted her head to the side in thought.

"Well, considering that since that incident with Connor you are far more liked in Redcliffe than Eamon, it wouldn't be all that bad, right?" she said hesitantly. "I mean, it would be a greater responsibility, since the arling demands so much more attention and you would have to attent every Landsmeet, since it's more important than Rainesferre, but I would help you, if you want," she added hesitantly.

Teagan felt his lips widening in a big smile. Leaning towards her, he kissed her forehead and wanted to say something when the confusion in Amélie's eyes made him forget whatever it was.

"Amélie?" he asked, "what's the matter?" She squirmed under his searching gaze uncomfortably. "Is it because of something I did? Or...?"

Biting her lower lip she nodded, only so slightly. "It's... well, actually it's a bit stupid, you know?" Words started to flow from her mouth, impossible to stop. "Every time you touch me like that," she motioned to her forehead, "I feel like looking around who's watching, that you're doing so. Before, when I was still pregnant, I thought you were doing it, so I would feel better and not so alone. It puzzles me that you continue in it. Of course, it's your right to do so, since you're my husband and truthfully, it's not unpleasant and all but..."

Teagan had enough, wave of annoyance rising in him by each word she said. Laying finger on her lips he stopped her words. "No buts, Amélie. I do touch you, not because of some perverted pleasure of making you feel awkward. I do it because I care for you, and for me, a sign of caring is touching. If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop."

She was looking at him with eyes akin to a woman expecting him to disappear in front of her eyes, her face white as a chalk. He exhaled slowly. "Look, I do not want to argue with you. What do you think about talking of this later? This evening, maybe?" he asked, waiting for her reaction. She nodded after a short moment, still looking nervous.

"So what do you think - would you like to be called Arlessa?" he teased her, chuckling at her blush.

"No more than you would like to be called Arl," she said quietly.

Both of them smiled a bit, he offering her his arm and she surprising him by taking his hand, pressing it lightly. "Lets go to meet your brother," she urged him quietly. "As I remember him from the past, he could be quite impatient and we wouldn't want that, yes?"

o.O.o

"So, what do you think about the way the meeting went?" asked Amélie when they were alone in their room, preparing for the night. She was sitting on a small chair by her vanity and brushing her hair, searching for Teagan's image in the mirror with her eyes.

He chuckled. "It could have been much more worse, to tell the truth. However, with the Queen's consent we are about to move to Redcliffe soon enough and get paraded all around as the new arl and arlessa."

Walking over, he slowly laid his hands on her shoulders, giving her time to move out of his touch, if she wanted to do so. "But we agreed to talk about something else before, didn't we?" he said softly.

Her eyes found his in the mirror and she nodded, turning to face him. "Yes, we wanted to talk about touching. Or rather," she blushed, "I wanted to talk about touching. Will you let me explain it, please?"

"By all means, please, tell me your thoughts of the matter."

"I know it's probably quite stupid - but I wasn't used to public touching." Blushing again, she added: "Alistair wasn't overly... demonstrative, if you will, when it came to showing affection in public. But we agreed to touch here and there in public, so I mostly took every gesture you did as a part of the arrangement. It makes me a bit ... nervous when you touch me like that in private." She smiled ruefully. "Silly of me, isn't it?"

"No, not at all," spoke Teagan. It made sense, after all. Kneeling by her chair - just like when he asked her to marry him in front of Fergus - he took her hands into his, caressing her knuckles with his thumbs. "I understand that it may make you feel uneasy. But please," his voice got an urgent undertone, "I'm not Alistair and although I do not seek to pressure you into anything you are not prepared for, I have to ask: Do you think you'll ever get comfortable with my touches?"

"I hope so, Teagan," she whispered, her eyes boring into his. "I really do."

o.O.o

From their night talk their relationship got an abrupt turn in its course.

One day, she would surprise him by quick peck on cheek when she brought him a small snack to his study where he was signing some contracts and writing several letters.

Few days later, she would hesitantly ask him, if he would mind spending the night with her and little Roland sleeping on the same bed, the child between them. To forge the bond between the baby and his parents, she would explain, blush colouring her cheeks.

Another day it would be her waking him with a kiss on his forehead, wishing him a good morning and handing him a steaming cup of tea from the tray she brought from the kitchens.

He was almost tempted to ask who she is and what has she done to Amélie. But then - who was he to complain that his wife finally started to warm towards him?