Disclaimer: I do not own DA:O or any of its characters!
"Hey, wait, I've got a new complaint
Forever in debt to your priceless advice"
~Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana
10. A Tutor for the Suitor
"First and foremost, we have to work on the way you react to the other nobles, whether it be in court, or socially. Whenever they speak to you, they're really either trying to get information from you, or they're looking to gain your favour in some kind of political matter. You're under constant scrutiny, so if you react too strongly to something they say, they'll notice," I explain to Alistair. I'm sitting across from him in his study, and he's listening intently. I almost let out a giggle when he starts taking notes. "You want to find a few different faces you can give them. I know it sounds silly, but it's really the safest bet. King Cailan wore his heart on his sleeve, and while many people loved him for it, we all knew who wore the pants between him and Anora. If you can find a good balance between humour and firmness, you'll be set."
Alistair looks up from his notes. "So you're telling me I should have a listening face, a firm face, a thinking face and a playful face?" He shakes his head. "This all seems rather ridiculous."
"Welcome to noble life," I quip. "Now, show me your thinking face." Alistair complies. "You look constipated. Loosen up a bit, tilt your head to one side. That's it!" We run through several expressions, and after about half an hour we've managed to find a few that will suit different situations.
"I feel like a complete moron," Alistair moans. "Why can't people just say what they mean?"
"Why, that would make things far too easy for you, your majesty," I tease. "The Ferelden nobility would much rather watch you squirm."
"I think I'd rather watch you squirm," Alistair grins at me and stands, rounding his bureau. He leans on the edge of it, gazing down at me. "So, I heard you had company for lunch."
I shift in my seat, adjusting my wretched brown breaches. "Yes, I did. A girl named Kaitlyn that I'd met in the market…she was being accosted by a wretched man, and so I stepped in. It was messy business, so I invited her back to the castle for some lunch. Teagan happened to be here, so I invited him as well and introduced them."
He raises an eyebrow at me. "Don't tell me Elissa the ice queen was actually playing matchmaker," he folds his arms over his chest, his grin widening. "What is the world coming to?"
"I'm secretly a hopeless romantic," I retort.
"Ha! I knew it! That whole 'don't mess with me' act? I'm so not buying it," he leans in closer, his face mere inches from my own. I swallow audibly and lick my lips.
"Now you're just making fun of me," I say.
He reaches out, running his fingers through my hair. "Make fun of you dear lady? Perish the thought!" His hand cups my cheek, and I brace myself for what's coming next…he's obviously going to kiss me. My eyes fall shut and my lips part in anticipation, only he doesn't do it. At least, not in the way that I'd hoped. He instead chastely pecks my forehead. My eyes shoot open when I feel his hand fall away from my face. I feel my cheeks begin to heat up from the sheer humiliation of the situation. "I've been going about this all wrong," Alistair says. "I want you to know that I'm interested in more than just…than just sex. I want to get to know everything about you, Elissa, so there's not a shadow of a doubt about my intentions." My mouth drops open and I start to protest, to tell him that he needn't go through so much trouble, that I longed for the pleasure that only he could provide…but his index finger presses against my lips to silence me. "I want you to have dinner with me tonight. Alone. I want to hear all about your life before you came here. Before the Blight. I won't take no for an answer."
"Well then, I suppose I need not reply," I glance down at my clothes. "I clearly need to change, however."
Alistair frowns slightly. "Why? You look beautiful as you are. You needn't change, what you have on is perfectly fine." What strikes me is not the comment itself, but the absolute honesty behind it. He wasn't trying a line on me, nor was he shovelling empty flattery onto my shoulders. He genuinely meant what he said.
"You…you really think I'm beautiful?" I ask softly.
He rolls his eyes. "Of course, you must know that by now. I've said it countless times before."
"I know, but it's just most men who've said it usually want something from me. Whether it's political support, or someone to fight on their side, or…sex. I've never really met someone who has said it because they actually believed it. I'm just not used to it," I explain.
"You know I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean," he replies.
"Yes, I'm starting to see that."
Alistair smiles widely. "Good. Now, if you're set on getting changed, then I shan't stop you. Dinner will be ready in about two hours. I know you had a late lunch, so do you think you'll be hungry?" As though it were cued to do so, my stomach growled loudly. "I guess that answers my question," he says with a chuckle.
"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "I'm a growing girl, what can I say?"
"Don't apologize. At least I know there's no risk of me breaking you in two during a night of passionate love making," he winks at me, and I swear to the Maker, for the first time in the history of all that is Elissa Cousland, a man has managed to make me blush at a sexual joke. What is wrong with me? Normally I'm the one that's causing the noblemen to blush! I mentally berate myself, but it's too late. He sees my ears and neck flush deeply, and his smile becomes even wider. I feel my stomach twist into knots at the wolfish grin he's giving me, and I'm finally able to admit to myself that I have a ridiculously large crush on the king. Cliché, I know, and I almost hate myself for it, but what's a girl to do?
I've never had two hours slip by quite so quickly. Granted, having the servants draw another bath took a fair bit of time, as did scrubbing my entire body repeatedly with my girly soaps…not to mention fussing with my hair to the point of almost ripping it out of my scalp. Finding something to wear had been the easy part. I settled on a beautiful mulberry dress made of crushed velvet. The neckline was v-shaped, but not too revealing. It exposed my shoulders, however, and clung to my curves. After giving up the battle with my hair, I settled with tying it in a loose ponytail. I pursed my lips several times to give them a slight reddish tint. The end result was a bit more than I had anticipated…it looked like I'd spent the past two hours kissing someone passionately. Oh well, maybe it would throw Alistair into a fit of jealousy, causing him to claim me right there in the dining hall. I push that image aside for the moment. Best not to think such things when I'm about to go on a date with the subject of said fantasies. That is unless I want to spend the next few hours being tortured by my desire, only to find release at my own hands in my comfortable (and lonely) bedchambers.
Zevran stops by momentarily to make sure that everything is alright. He eyes my outfit and nods to show his approval. "I will not be here this evening, my dear. I have heard from various sources that there will be another gathering at the tavern. I intend to be there to try and gain some further insight into what I had heard the other night. I will hopefully have more information for you once I return." He smiles at me and kisses my cheek. "Enjoy yourself, and if possible, enjoy the king as well." I slap his arm playfully and he saunters off. When it's finally time to head to the dining hall for dinner, I've finally managed to calm down. As I approach the dining hall, I notice a guard standing outside of the doors. He stops me and enters before me, announcing my arrival. He holds the door open for me and I slide into the room. Alistair is standing beside his chair, and he looks amazing. He's wearing a beautiful sage green jerkin over a gauzy white shirt. His trousers are chocolate brown and tucked into a pair of beautiful leather boots. His eyes light up as I enter the room, and I can feel my mouth starting to go dry. He strides over to me, taking my hands into his.
"I knew I shouldn't have let you get changed," he says. "I'm going to be spending the whole meal thinking of ways to convince you to let me follow you to bed."
That's it, two can play at this game. "You needn't think overmuch. I won't need any convincing, you're welcome to follow me anywhere…" I give him the most lascivious smile I can muster.
He tightens his grip on my hands and pulls me to him, causing my fingers to splay out over his chest. He leans in and whispers into my ear. "Don't tempt me, you minx, or else I'll be sampling your nectar instead of that of the fruit on our table." He nips at my neck before releasing his grip on me. I wonder idly if it's possible to die from sexual frustration. He steps behind me and slides out my chair, motioning for me to take a seat. I thank him and sit. As he takes a seat himself, one of the servants pours wine into our goblets. Alistair raises his glass to me. "Here's to the first of many meals together." Our glasses make a delicate clinking sound and I take a sip. Since my nerves had gotten the better of me for the past two hours I find myself at the end of my glass a lot sooner than I had anticipated. "Thirsty?" Alistair asks with a grin and a cocked eyebrow.
"This is very good wine," I say by way of explanation. A lame explanation if I've ever heard one. He doesn't seem to notice, however, and refills my glass. "So, tell me a bit about your life before you became a Grey Warden."
Alistair leans back in his chair, swirling the wine around in his glass. "Well, Arl Eamon raised me for the first ten years of my life. He was good to me, and he didn't have to be. Of course everyone assumed I was his, and when he married Lady Isolde, she made certain that I felt as unwelcome as possible. It wasn't long before I was shipped off to the Chantry for templar training."
I grimace. "What an awful thing to do to a child…I can't imagine how it must have been for you."
"Maybe," he concedes. "But she probably didn't have it any easier, having to deal with all of those rumours."
"That's no excuse," I reply. "She was supposed to be the adult. To blame a child for something that's beyond their control is simply…abhorrent." I frown, gazing down at my wine. "She ought to be ashamed of herself." I take another long sip, and when I shift my gaze back to Alistair, he's watching me, a pensive expression colouring his features. "What?"
"Nothing, it's just…when I tell that story to most people, they make excuses for the Arlessa. I was beginning to think that I'd been crazy for feeling the way that I did. It's nice to know someone else that feels the same way," he explains. "What about you? What was your life like before the Blight?"
I smile and begin to reminisce. "Well, of course you know I was born and raised in Highever. My parents first wanted me to be a proper lady, but I soon dashed any hopes they may have had for me to settle down. Father soon saw that I had a talent for fighting, and had me trained. I grew restless after a time, and just before the Blight I travelled to Orlais to study the arts and experience their culture. Then I came back…and I suppose you know the rest," I shrug a shoulder. We continue to chat, discussing our time during the Blight. I'm fascinated by the adventures Alistair has had, and I love hearing about my brother and his time as a Warden. After a thoroughly delicious meal and several glasses of wine, I'm feeling quite loose tongued and giddy.
"Has anyone told you how handsome you are?" I ask suddenly. My cheeks feel warm from having consumed so much wine.
Alistair grins at me. "Is this your way of telling me you think that I'm handsome?"
"My lips are sealed," I reply coyly.
"I'll find some way of prying it out of you," he winks at me. "In the meantime, I think we'd best get you to bed."
I shoot him an exaggerated pout. "But I'm not even tired!" I protest.
"You, my darling, are drunk. And as captivated as I am by our conversation, it would be selfish of me to keep you from sleeping off the drink." He stands and rounds the table, offering his hand to me. "Allow me to escort you to your chambers." I smile and take his proffered hand. He loops my arm into his and leads me from the dining hall. We're soon standing outside of my bedchambers, and he turns to face me. "I had a wonderful time, Elissa."
"As did I, Alistair," I bite my lower lip and dip into my supply of liquid courage. "If you want, you can come in…"
He shakes his head. "No. As much as I'd love to spend the night with you, I'm afraid that I can't. Not in your current condition. I'd be taking advantage, and before you say anything, my decision is final," he pulls me into a tight embrace, and I hear him inhale deeply. "Maker, you smell good." His voice is strained and throaty. "Ah well, the anticipation will only make it that much better," he kisses the top of my head. "Goodnight, my dear. I will speak with you tomorrow."
Before I can reply he ushers me into my room and closes the door. I curse under my breath, entirely frustrated by the situation. I pull off my dress and slip into a nightgown. As I slide under my covers I'm certain that I won't be able to fall asleep. It isn't long before my eyelids become heavy, and my head is swimming from the wine. This combination drives me into a deep slumber, one that I know I will not wake from easily.
There's an incredible weight on my chest. I open my mouth to scream, only no sound comes out. Too late, I realize that my mouth is covered. My eyes fly open and I see a man that I don't recognize straddling me. My heart begins to hammer wildly, the adrenaline rush and fear course through my veins. His eyes are cold and unrelenting, his lips curled into a sneer. "Did you really think you could get away with it?" he snarls. I shake my head, completely bewildered. "You will not destroy our hold over those filthy mages. We won't allow it! Once I've finished you off, I'll be heading straight to the king's chambers. He'll suffer the same fate as you."
His free hand wraps around my throat, and he begins to squeeze. I gnash my teeth and manage to bite into his fingers. The skin breaks and his blood spurts into my mouth; it coats my gums and tastes like copper. He lets out a strangled cry and he ceases the strangling in order to punch me with his uninjured hand. He drives his fist into my mouth, which causes my lip to split instantly. He pummels me several more times, catching my nose and cheeks. I hear the sickening crack of my facial bones breaking. I struggle to free myself, but it's useless as he has my arms pinned by my sides with his knees, and I can't get enough leverage to knee him. My head is pounding from the hits that he's raining down on me, and my breath catches in my throat when he reaches to his side and unsheathes a particularly sharp looking dagger. He brings it down to my chest, and at the last second I manage to jerk to one side. A searing heat lances through my shoulder, and I squeeze my eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the pain. Much to my surprise, the killing blow doesn't hurt at all. I only feel the warm gush of blood that splatters against my chest, signalling the end of my life. I know I'll be dead in scant seconds, and I only wish that I'd had the opportunity to warn the king. It isn't until I hear a wet, gurgling sound that I think to open my eyes. The intruder's mouth hangs open, only it emits no sound. My gaze moves lower, and I see the gaping wound in his neck, which continues to pump blood out at an alarming rate. He slumps to one side, falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. Zevran stands above me, gripping a blood stained dagger. He races to my closet and grabs the first garment he can get his hands on. He returns to my side and reaches out, ripping my night gown to allow better access to the wound in my shoulder. He presses the article of clothing to the wound to stem the flow of blood. I hear heavy footfalls in the corridor, and loud shouts.
"-ank you Zeh," my mouth doesn't seem to want to work. It feels like my cheeks have been stuffed with wool.
Zevran's expression is both angry and sorrowful. "Don't speak, Elissa. You have lost a great deal of blood. Conserve your energy until we can get you healed."
I look up to see several guards burst into the room. Alistair pushes past them and enters, his gaze falling first to the dead man on the floor, then to my bloodied form on the bed. His eyes widen and he rushes over to me. "Blood of the Maker! Elissa, are you alright? What happened?"
"As you can see, she was attacked. Luckily her attacker was not able to complete the task," Zevran snaps. "Hurry and get her a healer and a health poultice. We need to treat this wound." One of the guards tosses Zevran the herbal paste, which he begins to apply to my stab wound. I let out a cry of pain - the substance stings like a son of a bitch. As always the effects are well worth the initial discomfort. Zevran expertly dresses the wound and Alistair kneels next to me, taking my hand in his.
"One of the healers will be here soon. Don't worry, we'll have you fixed up in no time," no sooner had he spoken the words, when a harried mage enters the room. She winces at me.
"That must have hurt," she mutters. A faint glow erupts from her hands, and my flesh and bones are instantly stitched together. "There will still be some bruising, but she won't scar. She'll look as good as new by this time tomorrow," the mage assures. Having completed her task, she bows and leaves the room.
Alistair turns to his guards. "Please give us some privacy," he commands. They too depart, and Zevran, Alistair and I are left on our own. Oh, not to mention the dead body as well. "I know that man," Alistair growls. "Back when I lived at the Chantry. He was training to be a templar as well."
"The Chantry," I rasp. "They're coming after us because of the ruling about the Circle. He said that after he finished with me, he was going after you."
"I can scarcely believe that they would resort to this…actually forget it. I most definitely believe it. I only wish that I'd never convinced you to side with me on this matter. If I'd let things be…"
I push myself to my elbows. "Don't be ridiculous. I knew what I was doing. We can't let them push us around like this. We need to figure out what to do. Unfortunately, I don't think it's safe for you here."
"Nor is it safe for you," Zevran points out. "In fact, I think the best course of action would be to leave Denerim."
Alistair nods. "I agree. Perhaps we'll need to travel to Highever sooner rather than later." That stops me cold.
"What? You want to go to Highever? But why?" I exclaim.
"It's relatively isolated, and not nearly as chaotic as Denerim. It's an excellent place to stay until we figure out our next move," Alistair replies. "We'll leave in the morning. For tonight, I want Zevran to stay with you. I don't want anything else happening to you." He shoots a glance to the Antivan, who simply nods his assent.
I sigh and roll my eyes. "Fine, but get the sodding corpse out of my room. It's already starting to stink!"