Chapter 10: Privy Council

The month of Haring was not a pleasant time to ride across Ferelden. Though the snows were not as deep as they would be in Wintermarch; the frequent storms and gusting winds made travel uncomfortable at best. There were some beautiful days, of course, when the frost rimed the trees and the snow sparkled like a blanket across the Bannorn – it was just hard to remember them when frozen fingers curled in gloves and icy needles of wet snow crusted heavy on cloaks and boots and balled in the horses' hooves.

"Maker's frozen tits!" Zevran jumped off his horse as the poor animal slipped and came to halt. Lifting a front foot he proceeded to dig out the packed snow that was giving the gelding difficulty and reapplied lard to the bottom of the foot – again. The grease would keep the snow from sticking for a few miles, and then they would have to stop and repeat the procedure. "Why did I ever come to this icicle of a country?"

"Because you were trying to kill me?" Aithne grinned at him as she and Oghren dismounted to tend to their horses.

Zevran ignored the teasing, he was sick of being cold and wet, tired of sleeping on the floor in crowded taverns (the approach of the First Day holiday had every private room full), and revolted by the thought of another overcooked bowl of lamb and pea stew.

"Well lad, you were." Oghren snickered, "But you found another use for our lady Warden…, not that you've done much about it. Seems to me you'd like the cold about now…."

"Oghren!" Aithne scooped up a handful of snow and dumped it down the dwarf's back; this, of course, was considered a declaration of war and a few minutes later they were all covered in snow and laughing.

Zevran, humor restored by the lighthearted exchange, paused to give Aithne a brief kiss as he helped her to her feet. Oghren might be crude, but his assessment of Zevran's predicament was on target, the hot spring was entirely too long ago.

They only spent one more uncomfortable night on the road, pushing their horses hard they arrived in Denerim the next day. A blizzard swirled at their heels as they rode through the city gates an hour after nightfall. The castle stables were overflowing and carriages filled the yard, it appeared that the court was indulging in First Day festivities a little early.

Aithne sighed, with a state dinner Alistair was likely to be occupied until late. She would have preferred to get this meeting over with – her nerves were stretched tight enough already. Leaving their horses with a stableman they entered the castle through the servant's entrance.

Reading her mood Zevran leaned over, "it will give us time to get cleaned up. A hot bath perhaps?"

They parted company with Oghren, who was anxious to be reunited with Felsi, and continued to Aithne's chamber. She laid her saddlebags on the small table and absorbed the essence of the room that had been her home for most of the last four years. Nothing had been touched; Oghren had assured them Alistair had given orders for their chambers to be left as they were. The Dalish tapestry depicting Andruil still hung on the wall, a selection of books sat neatly on the shelf, an armor stand stood in the corner holding the ancient elvish armor she had never been able to part with – though it was far to heavy for her.

Zevran entered behind her, having found a servant to send for bath water. He took in her stillness, her disregard for the puddle of water dripping off her cloak, her hand gripping the back of the chair. "I do not have to stay, if you prefer I can go to my own quarters."

She turned and went to him, her deft fingers worrying at the fastening of his cloak. "No Zev, please stay. It's just that I felt so…free, when we were traveling – it seems confining to be back here." Meeting the uncertainty in his amber eyes with desire in her own, she continued. "Now about that bath…."

Alistair was bored, state dinners always seemed to drag on interminably; he toyed with simply leaving, taking Rothana and retreating to their rooms for a quiet evening. He sighed, duty first, and turned his attention back to the Rivaini ambassador. His eyes glazed as she extolled the virtues of reducing the Ferelden tariff on imported silk. When a servant bent and whispered a message in his ear he restrained a smile, at last. The ambassador paused to take a sip of wine and he took advantage of the moment to request a favor of Warden Commander Howe. The lean man nodded his understanding and excused himself from the table.

Funny thing that, Alistair thought to himself as he politely smiled for the ambassador to continue. He would have never thought to trust the offspring of a snake like Rendon Howe – when Aithne returned from Amaranthine with Nathaniel in tow he had been shocked to say the least. To imagine that the man would become a close friend and confidant, that he had never dreamed.

Rothana caught his hand in hers under the table and arched a brow in question. He nodded, yes, they were here. He kept her hand, thumb stroking her palm in reassurance, their marriage had indeed blossomed beyond the cold matter of producing an heir, but the new understanding was still a fragile thing.

Nathaniel was grateful for the excuse to leave – his visits to court were a mixed blessing. He had found a surprising kindred spirit in the Grey Warden turned king, but spending time in Denerim, subject to the hostility of his former peers, was always awkward. His position had been made more difficult when Aithne had named him Warden Commander of Ferelden – in essence giving Amaranthine back to him. Not that he objected, but it had generated a significant amount of malicious gossip and outright discontent among those who had suffered at his father's hands. He looked up at the former chancellor's door; his feet had traveled a straight path while his thoughts meandered. He knocked and was surprised to hear a giggle, then a splash. Some servant involved in a tryst no doubt, he started to open the door to shoo the intruders out of Aithne's room.

"Give me a moment, I'll be right there." Aithne's voice sounded, then another muffled laugh.

A giggle? Aithne didn't giggle, she rarely laughed at all. Nathaniel was at a loss to explain his former Commander's change of behavior. She had barely opened the door –dressed in hastily donned shirt and pants with hair still wet – when Zevran stepped in to view, bare-chested and also dripping. "Oh…, I'll just come back later…" he turned to go.

Tossing Zevran a clean shirt Aithne called, "Nate, come in, it's okay. What did you need?"

Averting his eyes as Zevran made a show of donning his shirt Nate sat in the offered chair. "Alistair wants us to meet in his chambers when the state dinner is over. There have been new…developments."

"What developments?" Disturbed Aithne stared at Nathaniel.

The Grey Warden Commander leaned back in his chair, where to start? "You read Morrigan's letter?" He waited for their nods, and then continued. "I recently received correspondence from Weisshaupt asking me to be on the alert for her whereabouts. If I were to find her I am supposed to detain or kill, both her and any child that may be with her."

Nathaniel did not miss the glance the two elves exchanged. Interesting, he had expected Aithne's reaction, he had not been sure if she would have shared the secret with Zevran. He held up a hand, silencing the question on Aithne's lips. "We should probably wait to discuss this further until we meet tonight. I still have Oghren and Anders to find. And Aithne, Zevran, it's good to see you both safe."

"It's good to see you too, Nate." He could still feel the warmth of her fingers on his arm where she had given him an affectionate squeeze as he turned to go. Smiling, he recalled her decision to make him a Grey Warden. He had hated her, wanted to wring her slender neck, see death cloud her green eyes for the slight to his house and the death of his father. Instead she had given him a chance to find the truth, to find himself. In doing so she had cemented his loyalty, to her and eventually to the crown. The Grey Wardens came in a distant third. He hoped her mercy and faith in her friends had not led her astray with Morrigan. Still she could be ruthless if need be. He still recalled her slight form, crouched over the broken body of the Architect, praying to commend his soul to Falon'Din, Guide of the Dead. She had believed the Architect, had recognized his worth, but she had still killed him; his survival was too much of a risk.

Nathaniel's footsteps quickened down the hall, best to tell Oghren next. Felsi was going to kill him for stealing her husband away so soon but the dwarf, as the former General of Ferelden and a Grey Warden, was an important part of the unofficial privy council.

"It's a dangerous game he plays," Zevran guided Aithne to a chair, fingers gently working the knots of tension in her shoulders.

"I know Zev, if Weisshaupt ever finds out I don't know that we can protect him." Nathaniel had agreed to his duplicitous role after he had been approached by an Anderfels warden expecting him to still have resentment toward Alistair and Aithne for his father's death. It had been suggested that he pretend to befriend the two Ferelden wardens who had defeated the Archdemon, and keep Weisshaupt advised of their actions. His friendship already firmly cemented with Aithne, he had volunteered for the role of double agent.

"He was raised to politics and the Ferelden wardens are loyal to him, he plays his hand with skill."

"And perhaps with a few hidden cards." The resources of the intelligence network assembled by Leliana and Zevran were not inconsiderable. Aithne sighed, they had not been back in Denerim for two hours and she was already immersed in the political quagmire again. She allowed herself the brief respite of Zevran's massaging hands until her stomach loudly complained about missing dinner. "Shall we raid the kitchen Zev?"

The kitchens boiled with activity as the servants attempted to keep food and drink flowing out to the nobles and foreign dignitaries. Swiping a couple of plates and piling them with food they retreated under the chastisement of an undercook.

Thus it was that they finished their meal and arrived at the king's quarters considerably before Alistair could courteously leave his guests. Aithne paced the sitting room, heedless of the fine rug beneath her boots.

She was stopped in her current transit by Zevran, he pressed a glass of wine into her hand, amber eyes shuttered in the face of her distress. She laid a hand on his sleeve, "Zev…"

"I can't believe you got another one to believe the, 'a mage really knows how to use his staff' line." Nathaniel's deep voice penetrated the room.

"But it works so well Nate. And mage robes are, well you know, handy." Anders had clearly been working on his latest conquest when Nate had found him.

"Don't feel to bad son, Felsi and I were just about to grease up the old bronto when he knocked." They could hear the dwarf chide the Warden Commander. "You should give a man time to polish his sword a little when he's been away from his lady."

"Sorry brothers, it was the king's wish we meet tonight." Nathaniel entered the room trailed by the mage and disgruntled dwarf.

"Anders, still making up for lost time in the tower I see." Aithne embraced the mage. "We should issue a public warning."

"Oh, nothing so serious as that, there's just this little Rivaini girl…."

"And the girl from Gwaren before that, the blonde Orlesian, the twins from Amaranthine…"

"Okay, okay, can you blame me? After all that time locked in the tower I am enjoying the pleasures of being free." Anders innocent smile garnered laughs from the entire company. "It's good to see you back."

"Indeed, it is." Alistair entered with Rothana on his arm. "I trust your journey was safe."

Aithne felt her heart stop and then start again. She wasn't ready to face him yet, not with his very pregnant wife on his arm, not with Zevran sitting so calm on the sofa he had retreated to. She looked to the assassin, his eyes were blank; they held no light, no warmth, nothing of Zevran – just as they had been when Taliesin had come to claim him. Gathering herself she managed a bow, "Your Majesties."

"Good grief, not you too. As if I don't have enough toadies bowing and scraping all day."

Aithne nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She watched as the king tenderly seated his wife then settled himself next to her. Forcing composure she walked over and installed herself next to Zevran on the sofa. His posture was relaxed, languid but she could feel the barrier he had thrown between them as if it were a solid wall. She schooled her hands in her lap, wanting to reach out to her Antivan lover, afraid they would both shatter if she did. Looking up she found the King and Queen watching her, Rothana with a shadow of triumph colored by a little lingering resentment and no small amount of compassion, Alistair with sadness – a final farewell. Sighing she forged ahead, nothing had been easy since Tamlen found the mirror, why start now? "We received the letter and Nate has informed us of the other difficulty…"

"Yes, before we begin though, I think we need to share the whole story with everyone here. Do you wish to tell it or shall I?" Alistair's gaze held her, she had been the one that convinced him, it was her job.

Aithne took a fortifying sip of wine – he wanted her to tell everyone, even his wife? "She was my friend, I will tell the tale." Having told the story twice recently she pared it down to the bare facts. In deference to Rothana she left out any reference to motivation beyond increasing the chances of eliminating the Archdemon and keeping Alistair alive to take the throne, her previous relationship with Alistair was well known to everyone in the room but Aithne was not going to bring it up.

"So that's how you survived? I always wondered. Risky but probably worth it." Anders viewed his old commander in a new light.

"Worth it? How can risking another blight be worth it? Sodding! Bloody! Nug! Humper!" Oghren stalked across the room and glared at Aithne. "How could you even think…?" Sputtering he turned his back on her.

"Oghren…"

"I need a drink." The angry dwarf stalked over and helped himself to an entire decanter of brandy.

"What was done is not the issue, what happens now is." Nate broke the silence that had fallen. "Weisshaupt is looking for Morrigan and the child, the Anderfels wardens intend to destroy them both."

"Best sodding thing to do," Oghren muttered between swigs.

"It may be the best thing to do, it may not. This child, this old god, may hold the knowledge to stop the blights for good. It seems foolish to throw that away." Zevran finally joined the conversation.

"Do you think that is possible?" Alistair looked up sudden hope in his eyes.

"Anything is possible. Aithne and I have gathered a bit of elvish lore pertaining to the Old Gods in the course of our travels. It differs a bit from the Chantry's version, but both agree that there were no darkspawn prior to the imprisonment of the Old Gods or the hibernation of the ancient dragons – depending on which version you believe. Perhaps an awakened Old God can aid us in containing the darkspawn."

Alistair seemed greatly relieved by this line of reasoning. "I sent Leliana to Morrigan when Isabela delivered the letter. She had instructions to destroy the child if it carried any hint of the darkspawn taint; otherwise she was to protect both it and Morrigan as far as she was able."

To order the possible death of a child, his child – Aithne could not imagine what those orders must have cost Alistair. He had finally grown into his title and the loss of the innocent templar pained her. She watched as Rothana rested a gentle hand on her husband's arm, reassuring him with her touch. At least he had a wife who cared about him and a legitimate child to love on the way.

"There seems little we can do from here, Zevran and I were looking for Morrigan anyway…" Aithne stole a glance at Zev, he was not quite as cold, and the barrier had dropped a little, "Leliana will likely need help if there are Wardens after the child, we could go…"

"Someone needs to. I cannot, as Warden Commander my absence would be noted, it would also be wise to keep a few loyal Wardens in court in case Weisshaupt comes looking for Alistair. Oghren and Anders are already established here so they would be obvious choices." Nate turned back to Aithne. "I guess that leaves you and Zevran to go if you are agreeable."

"I will go. Zev, are you with me?" She was almost afraid to ask, afraid of what his stony silence might mean.

The full force of his amber eyes met hers, "I gave you my pledge."

"Well, that's settled then, one nasty swamp witch to rescue, one god baby to deal with and two body guards that will drain my cellars and dally with the maids. Boy, its good to be king." Rothana whispered something in Alistair's ear and he smiled down at her. "Isabela's ship is due in harbor sometime this week, we will meet again when she arrives. I am going to exercise my kingly privileges and go to bed. Good night."

As always my first thanks go to Bioware, I own nothing.

Thank you also to my beta Erynnar- if you have not read her story "Soulmates" you are missing out.

Thank you also to everyone who has taken the time to review, or put me on favorites or story alerts, you keep me writing. A special shout out to Judy who left a review I was unable to reply to - thank you -reviews make my day.