CHAPTER FOUR

Orzammar

Ferelden

Night was falling as they approached the entrance to the city. They entered unhindered. She had heard that, since the end of the Blight, dwarven relations with the surface had improved, but she was still surprised that they had passed the gates so easily. All the books she had read in the Circle about dwarven-surface relations had been pessimistic.

As they descended into the city, she found herself staring up at the high ceilings and the stonework around them. She had seen only drawings of Orzammar, and they failed terribly at recreating the grandeur and beauty of the city. Pushing the darkspawn back past the trenches had given Orzammar access to many lost resources, and the city shone as a result.

'Who is this 'friend' that we are meeting with?' Rokara asked as they walked. Now that they were inside the city, she had removed her hood and unwrapped her face, draping the fabric over her head to cover her bright hair and ears. Although in her experience elves and dwarves got along quite well, she did not want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. She glanced around them. She had already felt some people staring at her, but there was little more she could do. She stood out in the pale wolf-fur, walking with such a tall man. Plus, it was difficult to conceal a mage's staff, especially when it was as tall as her.

'Bhelen. I sent him a letter in advance, so he will be expecting me.'

'But not me.'

Alistair noticed that she had stopped.

'Dwarves may not be used to seeing a lot of mages, but I promise you, no one will harm you here.'

She nodded, seeming to bite her tongue. She caught up with him as they approached another heavy door. Guards were posted outside.

'Good to see you, Thetin,' Alistair said. He removed his helmet, smiling down at the stocky dwarf before him.

'By the ancestors… Alistair, is that you?'

Alistair took his hand, each gripping tight for a moment.

'It is indeed. It's been a while.'

'It has, old boy, it has. What are you doing in Orzammar? Another trek through the Deep Roads?'

'Possibly,' Alistair said, 'Bhelen wrote to me. If my return letter arrived as it should have, he would be expecting me.'

'I'll take ya' right to him. This time of the day, he'll be at the Palace.'

Thetin and his fellow dwarf heaved the door open.

'I'll be back in a mo',' he said to his companion, leading the way.

Rokara fell into step beside Alistair.

'Palace? As in Royal?' she whispered beside him.

Alistair nodded.

'Why didn't you tell me your friend is the King of Orzammar?'

'Well, to be honest, I had hoped it would impress you, I guess. Before the Blight, I came here to call the dwarves to arms and invoke a Grey Warden treaties, but there was no King on the throne. We tried to reason with both parties but ended up assisting Bhelen. Harrowmont wasn't bad, per se, but he was... backwards, an isolationist. Bhelen was a reformist. He wanted to bring prosperity back to Orzammar, and he certainly has.'

'Good to know,' Rokara said. She threw him a quick smirk, 'and yes, I am a little impressed if I'm honest. I've never met royalty before.'

'Oh, just wait until I tell you how I could have been claimed the throne.'

'What?' she hissed, but any further questions were cut off.

'Here we are,' Thetin said as he opened the door to the Palace for them, 'I best get back to my post. I'm sure I'll see ya' for a drink later, Alistair.'

'Sure will.'

They entered the Royal Palace. It was abuzz with activity. Alistair led the way; he had clearly walked the halls before, his steps confident. They entered Throne Room, finding Bhelen huddled around a desk full of maps and papers, speaking with some other dwarves who wore full armour.

Bhelen looked up as they entered. 'Alistair!' he boomed, abandoning his discussion and the table. He approached, a smile partially concealed by his beard. He took Alistair's hand firmly, just as Thetin had. 'You made it.'

'Of course,' he said, 'can't resist a good fight with some darkspawn.'

'That's my boy,' he said, clapping Alistair on the elbow, 'we'll talk strategy in a moment. First, you must introduce me to your beautiful companion.'

He held his palm out. Rokara placed her hand in his, blushing as Bhelen bowed and gently kissed her, just above her knuckles.

'This is Rokara,' Alistair said, shaking off a strange bristling of jealousy as Bhelen stared up at Rokara as if in wonder of her, 'she was on her way here also when I stumbled into her cave. She sheltered me, and we decided to trek here together. I am hoping that she will be able to assist us in the Deep Roads, though I will leave that up to her.'

'Any friend of Alistair's is welcome here,' Bhelen said, 'if there is anything I can do for you, my dear, simply ask.'

Bhelen turned to his companions. 'We've made steady progress, friends. We'll resume later.'

They nodded, gathering their things and leading the way out the door, talking to each other as they went.

'Let me take your pack, my lady,' Bhelen said, 'I am sure it is a burden after you have travelled so far.'

She felt her cheeks flush. 'Oh, I'm fine. Thank you.'

'I insist.'

'I… okay. Thank you, your majesty.'

He shouldered the pack.

'Please, call me Bhelen.' He smiled at her, then glanced to Alistair as they exited the Palace. 'I dare say your journey has been long,' he said, 'I have already prepared accommodations for you in the Diamond Quarter, not far from here. There are plenty of extra rooms for your friends. When I wrote to you, I sent word to your companions also. Wynne and Shale responded. I almost wrote to Lilara, but when I put pen to paper I remembered… I'm sorry for your loss Alistair.'

'She would have been glad to return to Orzammar.'

Bhelen cleared his throat after a moment. 'Rokara, if you would prefer, I can arrange a separate house for you.'

'Thank you, Bhelen,' she said, 'I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't want to trouble you anymore than I have. You have already been very hospitable despite not expecting me. As long as I have a room, I don't mind staying in a house with Alistair if he doesn't.'

'Not at all,' Alistair said hurriedly. He nearly grimaced as Bhelen threw a smirk at him, but Rokara was oblivious to the silent exchange between the two men.

He stopped before a large gilded door.

'Here we are then.'

Bhelen took a large key from his pocket, unlocking the door. The entrance was modest, but a short way down the hall, she could see a large, well-appointed common room. They followed Bhelen further in, and he set her pack down beside a massive plush lounge.

'I'll leave you to settle in,' Bhelen said, leaving the key on the table between the two lounges, 'join me for supper in an hour if you please. I'll have someone bring you more comfortable clothes. If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to ask.'

'We'll see you shortly.'

Bhelen left, and they were alone once more.

'Wow,' Rokara breathed. She dropped her coat on the back of the couch, 'I just met a King.'

'Anything like you expected?'

'He was so… nice,' she said.

'I'll let you pick your room. We could both use a warm bath, I think.'

'It's been two years since I've been in water that wasn't freezing. This day keeps getting better,' she said, glancing down at her clothes, 'especially if I get new robes. I feel greedy for accepting such kindness, but, well,' she pulled at the loose top that engulfed her slight frame beneath the coat, 'these are clearly not mine. I am relieved that Bhelen didn't notice.'

'He seemed enamoured by you.'

She flushed. 'I'm sure he was just being polite.'

'Doubtful. He has good taste.'

She looked up from the lounge. Something flared through his gaze, something heated. Alistair, who seemed so easily flustered, held her gaze intently. She felt her heart kick hard in her chest. She stood, shaking off the feeling.

'I'll see you before supper,' she said, grabbing her pack. She hurried to a room, picking the first one she came upon. Her jaw nearly dropped from her face as she stared at the massive bed, carved directly from the stone. Ornate patterns filled the sharp edges, knots that seemed infinite. She set her pack down by the door, walking further into the room. The ceiling wasn't as high as it had been in the common room, she noticed. Beneath her feet was a lavish, plush rug. There was a desk set out from the wall with an ornate chair, facing the doorway. There was also a dresser, a set of drawers, and a large wardrobe within the room. A door to the side led to a private bathroom in which a large stone bath sat steaming in the corner, seemingly heated naturally, her very own hot spring.

She eagerly stripped her clothes and slid into the hot water, a happy shiver rolling over her. She scrubbed her skin clean and washed her hair, a feeling she could only describe as euphoria flooding through her. After so many freezing baths, she revelled in the luxury of the hot water.

'Excuse me, my lady,' a feminine voice called from the hall, 'I have brought you some clothes, is it all right if I enter?'

'Oh, yes, thank you so much,' Rokara called back, 'please, leave them on the bed. I'll be out shortly.'

'Is there anything else you need?'

'No, no, thank you so much!'

'Of course, my lady. I have left a note from Bhelen; he awaits you at the Palace.'

'Thank you again.'

She waited until she heard the door to her room close before she rose. She dried herself then returned to the bedroom. She had expected to find one outfit laid out for her, but there appeared to be a whole wardrobe spread carefully across the bed. She clutched her chest, reaching out to caress the soft fabric for a moment before she carefully sifted through the clothes.

She found multiple pairs of undergarments and nearly cried with happiness. She slid them on, not feeling even one itchy thread. She tried to pick something appropriate for dinner with King, opting for a flattering blue dress with silver accents that glistened in the light, the squared neckline revealing her collarbones. The sleeves were long and fitted as if tailored to her, the hem brushing the tops of her feet, with a slit running up each side to her mid-thigh.

She pulled the cord of her phylactery over her head, tucking it into her undergarments between her breasts. No one seemed, so far, to mind that she was a mage. She could not, however, allow them to discover she was an apostate.

At the base of the bed, she found a collection of shoes. She picked a complimentary pair and slipped them on. The leather was soft on her skin.

She brushed her hair at the dresser. Her ears peeked from beneath the damp strands. She sought out a soft silvered shawl on the bed and wrapped the fabric over her head, as she had done with the cloth when she had arrived in the city.

When she had finished dressing, she found the note that Bhelen had left on the bedside table. She opened the envelope, pulling a small sheet of fine paper from within.

My dear Rokara,

I hope I am not too forward, but it is a custom here to welcome royal guests with a small gift. My mother crafted this pendant. I hope you will wear it tonight.

-Bhelen.

It seemed Alistair had been right. She examined the necklace. The chain was delicate. A small knotted pendant hung from it, glistening in the soft light of the room.

She slipped the chain around her neck, the pendant settling between her collarbones. Although she appreciated the gesture, she was uncertain about how she would gently reject the romance of a King. His advance was flattering, but she knew that entering into a relationship would be dangerous. She would gladly assist in pushing back the darkspawn, but once she had found Antonius, she knew she would have to leave.

She made her way back to the living room. She slowed as she approached, pausing beside the doorway. Alistair was sitting on the couch. He had also changed, exchanging his armour for a finely cut tunic and soft leather pants. He looked relaxed now, his hands folded behind his head. The rich blue fabric was stretched tight over his biceps and chest, revealing more of the muscled figure she had glimpsed in the cave. Although his hair was wet and he had clearly bathed, his jaw remained stubbled. She found herself oddly pleased to note such a thing.

She glanced down at her dress, realising that they had accidentally coordinated their outfits. She felt her cheeks flush but knew it was a coincidence: Alistair probably wouldn't even notice, she reasoned, and she forced herself to enter the room.

Alistair glanced at the doorway when he heard her soft footsteps. He stood as she entered, but was nearly knocked off his feet. Her beauty had struck him in the cave, but now it stole his breath. The rich blue dress hugged her slender figure, contrasting with her alabaster skin. She seemed to be gently brushed with a shimmering dust as she approached. Her high, sharp cheekbones, tinged with the softest pink, were framed by the soft shawl she had wrapped around her hair. When he met her gaze, her golden eyes shone softly in the faintly lit room.

'Rokara…'

His eyes darted to the pendant. Whatever words that had been on his lips evaporated as he noted the intricate dwarven knot. He had felt a flash of jealousy when Bhelen had kissed her hand, and he had been kicking himself for not offering to take her pack sooner. Now jealousy seared him, but he squashed the feeling.

He cleared his throat to cover the pause.

'Shall we go?'

'Yes. I'm starving. Aren't you?'

'Oh, yeah. Starving,' he said, a weak laugh falling from his lips. He offered his arm to her, his heart skipping as she joined him. As they walked, he cast a sideways glance at the pendant.

A gift from Bhelen.

Jealousy flared inside him again. How could he expect her to resist the flattery of a King, when he had not thought to treat her as a gentleman should?

I have no right to feel this way. Who am I to deny her the courtship of a King?

He found himself suddenly wondering if he should have accepted his throne. He had, after all, had the chance. But the musings were futile. If he had accepted the throne, he would not be by her side now. He could not deny that he had enjoyed the time he had spent with her so far. Though counted in mere days, they had talked extensively. He had hoped…

No. You have been down this path before, Alistair.

He resolved himself. Whatever the Maker decided for Rokara, he would accept it. Even if it meant he didn't have a chance.