A/N: Hello! I'm aware it's been forever. Work has been hectic. It still is, really, but I managed to get a little writing done here and there, so here's an update. I'm not going to promise something that I can't deliver, but I will say that I am still working on both this and my other open piece, "Hands On Experience". I haven't abandoned them, I promise.
"Ah, Dragon's Peak, some of the best wine in Ferelden comes from here," Fergus said as they approached Bann Sighard's keep.
"Actually, it's more or less the only wine in Ferelden at the moment. Orlais is selling its wine elsewhere. They can make more money selling us food," Alistair said with a grimace.
"Yes, Orlesian grain is dear. Well, the fields will recover, in time. The Darkspawn did not have long to blight the land," Teagan said.
"Mm, yes, and Sighard is doing well. He's selling wine to the Free Marches. Thankfully the Marchers are willing to sell us grain at a much more reasonable price, plus they seem to like Ferelden wine just fine. They're getting drunk and we're getting fed, thanks to Sighard. I may have to give him a medal," Alistair said.
"You could give him an arling," Fergus mused, but Alistair shook his head.
"I'd considered making him the Arl of Denerim, but it's probably better that Anora stays where I can keep an eye on her. Besides, Sighard wanted to stay here, because of Oswyn...blasted Howe," Alistair said.
"I wish Elissa hadn't gutted that Maker-forsaken stain on the face of Ferelden so that I could have killed him myself," Fergus growled, to which Alistair and Teagan wisely did not respond. Fergus didn't truly begrudge his sister her revenge on Rendon Howe, but he was still quite likely to fly into a rage whenever Howe was mentioned - not that either man could blame him for that.
"So, does Sighard know the other reason we're here?" Alistair asked. Teagan smiled at him, glad for the change of subject, but then shook his head.
"Not officially, no, but he's quite astute enough to put two and two together, as are most of the nobles in the immediate area. There should be plenty of lovely young ladies for you to choose from, Alistair," Teagan said.
"Greeeat," Alistair said, which prompted a snicker from Fergus and a suppressed smile from Teagan. He truly could sympathize with his son, but he did need to secure the succession, and soon. The people had been much too long with no heir.
Bann Sighard had apparently been warned that the king's party was approaching, as he was waiting outside the keep as they approached.
"Good to see you again, Your Majesty, Your Graces," he said.
"Sighard, please don't do that. I am a bann, same as you, and I do have a name," Teagan said as he carefully dismounted his horse. He was apparently too old to be spending the day in the saddle, he thought with a grimace. He promised himself he would do a better job stretching before the next leg of this journey and stepped forward to greet Bann Sighard.
"The Brylands are here?" Teagan asked Sighard on the way into the keep, his brows raising in surprise. He had understood that Leonas and his family were heading straight back to South Reach to prepare for Alistair's arrival.
"Aye, but only the two girls. Leonas and Claire continued on to South Reach, ostensibly to make ready for your visit. There's a note to you from Leonas, probably asking you to escort the two of them to South Reach with you," Sighard said.
"Told you," Fergus said to Alistair, which made the young king sigh and mutter under his breath.
"Ah," was all Teagan said, but his lips curved in a smile. While he could not be happy that Habren Bryland was going to be in their company for an extended period, he was pleased that her sister would be in attendance at this gathering...and traveling with them to South Reach, it seemed. He'd read this note from Leonas and speak with Glynis to confirm the details of this supposed escort, as soon as he saw to the comfort of their guards.
Teagan put down the letter from Leonas and frowned. He was mildly irritated at the presumption, but he couldn't fault Leonas for it, not really. Habren had probably led him to believe that Alistair was well on his way to being besotted and he only needed more time in her company to be sure. Glynis was certainly mature and levelheaded enough to serve as a check on Habren's excesses. Teagan wagered that Glynis had been doing just that for years.
Well, nothing for it but to make the best of it, he thought. At least one of the two Bryland girls was reasonable. He should probably go talk to her and confirm the details of how much larger their party had just become.
He found both of the Bryland girls in the solar with Lady Mathilde and her two children Oswyn and Hannah. Mathilde stood and greeted him with a smile.
"Ahh, Chancellor Teagan, welcome to Dragon's Peak. I trust the accommodations are adequate?" she said.
"Entirely, Mathilde. Thank you for the warm welcome," Teagan said.
"The king is with you, isn't he?" Habren interjected. Teagan raised a brow, but simply answered the question.
"Yes, he is. Alistair and Fergus are still getting settled. I have come to speak with you and your sister regarding the journey from Dragon's Peak to South Reach," Teagan said.
"Oh...well, you can talk to Glynis about that. I should...go make sure the king has everything he needs," Habren said, and hurried from the room.
"You'd think she wanted to see the king or something," Oswyn observed, which made Hannah stifle a laugh. Glynis simply sighed. Teagan crossed the room and sat in the chair that Habren had vacated.
"I read your father's note," he said, which made Glynis frown.
"I apologize for the imposition, Chancellor Teagan. I told Father that it would not be polite to impose upon the king's party like this, but he was insistent that you would not mind," she said.
"Well, unless you have a bevy of servants, it should be no imposition," Teagan said.
"No, not a bevy. Just the one. Habren and I are sharing a maid," Glynis said.
"Ah, that should be no trouble, then. We're actually traveling without servants, ourselves, but one of our guards is female. I suppose your maid can share quarters with her while we are on the road," Teagan said.
"How very logical. I see we will be traveling with a well-organized group, which is due entirely to your efforts, I'm sure," she said, then frowned. "Again, I apologize for the presumption. Habren is convinced that the king has a tendre for her, as she puts it," Glynis said, which almost made Teagan snort, but then he considered for a moment and nodded.
"Your grandmother was Orlesian, was she not?" he asked.
"Yes, she was, much to Father's chagrin. Habren has decided that being part Orlesian makes her a bit above the typical Ferelden," Glynis said.
"Hmph, as long as we were occupied, there must be more Orlesian blood among the common folk of Ferelden than you might think," Mathilde said.
"True, Mathilde," Teagan said, then stood and bowed to Glynis and then his hosts, in turn.
"Now that travel arrangements to South Reach are sorted, I should rest a bit before supper. I have not spent much time in the saddle since the Blight, and I fear I am feeling it," Teagan said.
"Of course, Teagan. If you wish a bath simply let the servants know. I've placed them at your disposal," Mathilde said.
"Thank you, Mathilde. I may have to avail myself of that. Until this evening, then," he said with a smile. He was tempted to stay and continue conversing with the four of them, but he really should get some rest, and he should definitely have a bath. He hoped that Alistair and Fergus were intelligent enough to do the same.
Alistair dismissed the servants that Sighard had sent to assist him, preferring to unpack his own things if it meant they left him alone. Maker's Breath, did they not realize that the most precious thing in his life right now was his privacy? A king was never alone, it seemed. Even now, there were guards outside his door, but at least they weren't in the room with him. It was even worse in Orlais, or so he heard. Rumor had it that Empress Celene was attended even when she visited the privy. He was glad that he was allowed to relieve himself in private. He'd never been all that able to perform for an audience, in that regard. The stableboys at Redcliffe had never let him hear the end of that – they'd said he put on airs just because he didn't just pee everywhere like they all had. He wondered if they realized that their king was that same stable boy...assuming any of them had even survived the events at Redcliffe, much less the Blight.
"Bah, you're getting maudlin, Alistair," he said to himself. Ferelden had survived, after all, and things were getting better every day.
After refreshing himself and removing his armor – he'd gotten quite adept at donning and removing the silverite heavy plate on his own during the Blight, so he was doing without a squire, even now – he lay down to rest. His legs and backside were killing him. He did not expect to get any better at riding while he was on this trip, but he hoped that by the end of it his arse would be callused enough that he would stop feeling saddlesore.
He closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. It was funny; he'd trained himself to sleep almost on command during the Blight, but now that his life was no longer in constant peril, his mind just would not shut off and let him rest. The purpose of this trip was constantly in his thoughts. If things went as Father wanted them to, he'd be married before the year was out. He was of two minds about it. He had seen enough of Eamon and Isolde's marriage that he knew he did not want a marriage like theirs, but if he could find a woman that he liked and got along with, being married could be nice. Fergus had occasionally mentioned things about his late wife and son that led Alistair to believe they'd been happy, so it was certainly possible. Alistair thought that he might like being happily married. It would be nice to "polish the footstones", as Oghren had so eloquently put it, on a regular basis as well, he mused. The Archdemon had still been alive the last time he'd been with a woman, and that had just been the one time. He'd had chances, but the thought of tumbling a maid hadn't interested him, especially after he'd had that conversation with Aubrey, one of the castle servants. She'd been one of Cailan's lovers, and she'd made it fairly clear that she was willing to be his lover, too. She was a pretty elf, but the fact that she'd been his brother's woman just turned him right off. He'd always wonder if she was seeing him as a poor substitute for Cailan...much like Anora would have. After he'd realized that Cailan had been availing himself of at least one of the palace servants Alistair had realized just how many pretty elven female servants there were in the palace. Many of them were around Cailan's age, but there were quite a few older ones too...ones who had been in the palace since Maric's reign. He'd promised himself right then and there that he was not going to consort with any of the palace servants – there was just no way to be sure that he wasn't going where Maric or Cailan had been before...or perhaps both of them, for all he knew.
"Oh, ewww, Alistair, where did that thought come from? Stop thinking about the love lives of the former kings of Ferelden and sort out your own," he muttered to himself. If he wasn't careful he'd end up married to Habren Bryland, and he was fairly certain he'd rather face the Archdemon again rather than spend the rest of his life shackled to her. At least he was safe from her until they gathered for supper. The guards at the door would keep her out...he hoped.