What is she doing?

The chambermaid he sent to check on Celes had returned, saying that she was still asleep. Alistair had hoped to see her that morning, but it seems that would not be happening. He sighed and said, "Make sure to send some food to her room later." She would be hungry when she woke up.

He turned his attention back to the table, where he had invited Anders, Hughe and Eldric to dine with him. Anders seemed to be looking at his plate like the food would jump off the plate and attack him at any moment; maybe he hasn't seen baked cheese pears before. Hughe was gratefully gorging himself beside Eldric, who was sending disgusted looks his way. And Eldric was the refined gentleman, prim and proper with perfect etiquette.

That morning, he gathered the three men to tell them about their duties as becoming Grey Wardens, and the consequences. He told them about the dreams, the changes, the political neutrality, Celes' position, and the Calling. He filled in some gaps in their information holds including where darkspawn come from and other questions they had for him. After that, he handed them their Warden's Oaths. Alistair never told them, but he made the trinkets himself. And he was secretly proud of his work.

"Anders, remember to tell Celes, once she's awake, that she should see the palace seamstress about having a dress made." He remarked idly at the table.

Anders looked up, fork in hand, and said, "All right. What is it for?"

"It's for the coronation ceremony and everyone here is invited." Alistair sighed. He did not look forward to the event. "That means Hughe, Eldric and yourself should get some proper attire as well. It's at the end of the week." He broke off, not knowing what else to add.

"Fantastic. I have just the thing for it." Eldric wiped his hands on the napkin and replaced it on his lap, looking smug. Hughe just grunted and continued eating. Anders was resting his elbows on the table, his food almost untouched. He said, "Is it where you get crowned?" He snickered.

"Ha, that's a good one." Alistair laughed, not noticing Hughe groaning at the bad pun.

After the uneventful breakfast, Alistair left to the study to oversee the guest list. "Eamon, is it too late to resign now?" he joked. Eamon looked up and said, "Alistair, be serious. You are the King of Ferelden, and you cannot think that way."

Alistair exhaled and said, "I know, I know. It's just, sometimes I look around the great hall and I still cannot believe it. I'm King! I mean, king!" He waved his hands over his imaginary crown to emphasize his point and Eamon chuckled. "Yes, my boy. I know. Come, sit down."

They pored over the people they invited and Alistair's thoughts could not help but wander towards his missing companions. Shale had returned to Orzammar to aid the Legion of the Dead in keeping the darkspawn at bay, saying something about "No birds in Orzammar." Leliana was remaining in the city for awhile, since she would be going with Brother Genetivi and the Chantry on an expedition to the Frostback Mountains in search of the Sacred Ashes. He wasn't sure where Oghren was, but had a sneaking suspicion the grumpy drunkard was staying at the Tavern and frequenting the Pearl. He wouldn't miss the coronation for anything. After all, that was when the ales from all over Thedas would be imported to the Palace. Wynne had agreed to stay on as a court advisor, and he was glad. Alistair had grown fond of the old mage; she was like a grandmother to him. However, she had returned to the Circle of Magi to sort out some things and promised to be back before the coronation, to stay. His heart pained for Ash. The hound had been loyal to the end and would have probably attached himself to Sten had he survived. They were so similar and so many bizarre ways. However, Sten had disappeared, as did Zevran after the battle. But Alistair never thought much about it, he never really found kinship in those two anyway.

"…and Bann Sighard will be coming with his son, Oswyn and his two daughters, Marianne and Jenal. I propose granting Bann Sighard the province of Gwaren. He has provided us with much aid in the rebuilding of Denerim, and it seems like a proper reward for his services. He was also in favor of your ascension to the throne during the Landsmeet. Sighard will be a strong ally." Eamon was droning on about each and every one of their guests, talking about how to behave around them, what their titles were and which family members would be with them. Also, Alistair had to memorize every gift that they sent so he could thank them for it later. The formality and rigidity of it all made his brain ache.

He was toying with the golden arrow sent by Bann Alfstanna when he heard Eamon mention 'marriage'. His neck whipped immediately to his direction. "What did you say?"

"I said, you should think about marriage soon. And I'm only assuming this because you have not announced plans to marry Anora, which I deem highly unlikely." Eamon looked troubled at Anora's mention. She has always been a royal pain in the arse.

Anora refused to swear fealty to Alistair and had left them hard-pressed to make a decision regarding her fate. Alistair had contemplated releasing her, but Eamon advised against it on the grounds of a possible coup d'etat if she were to lead a resistance. When Alistair suggested an execution instead, Eamon fell silent. He knew what he was thinking. Anora was loved by the people and had been a good queen throughout her reign with Cailan. A public execution would only be a blow towards his already-weak support from the people. But perhaps now, with the Blight defeated, the citizens of Ferelden would see him in a better light. Not as the opportunistic bastard-prince, but as the King of Ferelden who marched into battle to save Denerim.

Eamon continued, "Hence, as I said before, if Bann Sighard is made Teyrn of Gwaren, it would be suitable if you were to marry one of his daughters."

"Eamon, I…" Alistair started before he was cut off. Eamon put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I know you are not ready yet, son. And I understand that you wish to grieve for Sierra. But the kingdom does not need a solitary monarch. In addition to that, there is the fact that you were chosen as King due to your Theirin bloodline. You will need to marry one day and will be expected to produce an heir. I am merely asking you to consider the option."

Alistair nodded, and said, "I will." He paused briefly, letting the words sink in, and then continued, "Furthermore, I have given the matter of Anora's punishment some thought. What do you think of an exile sentence?"

Eamon looked surprised, "That sounds interesting. Please, elaborate."

"I do not want to execute her, but I cannot let her roam free in Ferelden either. You know this, Eamon. That power-hungry, backstabbing snake would gather supporters and rebel against the throne." Alistair scratched his head, "I think we could talk to the Orlesian ambassador and arrange for her to be exiled to Orlais, where she can do us no harm but still live a normal life."

"Alistair, you are too charitable. But I agree. It is more preferable than executing her. You might have a politician's mind, after all, lad." Eamon said grimly and patted him on the back. "Your father would have been proud."

Alistair smiled sadly, thinking about his non-existent family. Just the other day, Goldanna had been seen shrieking about being related to the king in the marketplace, and the guards had to bring her in. They were all surprised when he confirmed her claims, but then he denounced her as his sister, seeing only greed in her soul. Sierra was right. She was always right. He sighed again. Sierra, how I wish you were still alive.

Things were so much easier when she was leading. He never had to make any decisions, and never appreciated how tough it was. Even with every member expressing different opinions, she had always been just and made the right decisions, compromising and being firm when necessary. She should be ruling beside me. How could he ever find someone to replace her? He had set a standard so high, that the next queen would have to be extraordinary to take her place.

He turned his attention back to Eamon, who was now lecturing him on the procedure during the coronation. "…and this is when you walk up and kneel before the revered mother…" I hate my life.

Anders had persuaded the chambermaid to give him the tray of assorted foodstuffs to bring to Celes' room. But he found himself standing outside the door, feeling jittery about entering. What if she was naked? He found himself thinking. Then hastily, he hit his forehead with his palms. No, no. Bad Anders! Don't go there.

He knocked on the door softly, and when there was no response, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. As he entered, he thought, This is so unfair. Her room is so much better than mine. Anders padded softly on the floor panels and laid the tray on her table. He allowed himself a glimpse of the sleeping beauty in bed.

Celes had the sheets pulled up right above her navel, with her left arm resting on her stomach and her right arm by the side of her head. Her face was turned away from him, and her long black hair was a tangled mess, covering the side of her face and part of her neck.

Anders walked to the edge of the bed to get a closer look. As he did, Celes shifted and he almost fell backwards in surprise. His hand clutched his chest to still his beating heart. If she woke up just then… And surely enough, Celes' eyelids opened halfway and she seemed to be processing the sight before her.

Have to get out. A warning sounded in his head, and Anders scampered out the door and shut it behind him as quick as he could before she came to her senses.

It wasn't that Anders was scared of her; it's just that he simply liked it better when she was not angry. Or hitting him. He walked down the hallway and bumped into Eldric.

"Hello, Anders my good man." Eldric held up a hand and smiled. He had the most charming smile, and looked like the prince in every girl's dreams; the one who would come up on a white horse wearing a tight vest and a cape… Anders snorted at the picture in his head, and Eldric gave him a strange look. "Oh, it's nothing. Hello, Eldric." Anders smiled back at him.

"Anders, have you given any thought as to what you will wear to the coronation?" Eldric placed his hands on his hips and looked at Anders.

"Robes?" Anders shrugged.

"Oh no, that will not do. Come with me, I believe I have just the thing for you." Oh no is right. Eldric paced down the hallway and beckoned for him to follow. Anders looked after him quizzically, and then decided to go along. This might be entertaining.

I hate my life. Eldric dressed him up in the most ridiculous looking rainbow-coloured jerkin he had ever seen, and he has seen many strange articles of clothing, like those strange loincloths favored by the Chasind. It extended to his neck in a chokehold and had puffy white sleeves, while its body had the most revolting and strange swirly mixture of blue, green and red. It had strange yellow patterns around the sleeve and collar. Is he serious?

When he grimaced and asked, "Are you joking?" Eldric had thrown him out of the room.

Anders stood outside the hallway, laughing to himself when he saw Celes exiting her room at the other end of the long corridor. "Hey!" He called out to her, and she walked over to him, still looking slightly groggy.

"You know, Anders. I had the strangest dream about you." Anders smiled, "Special dreams?"

He got another smack. "Ow!"

"No. Pervert. I was setting the stage to yell at you for sneaking into my room!" So she saw. Curses.

"Sorry, I was sending some food into your room. Please don't hurt me." He winced and recoiled back slightly, then said, "You really slept in."

"Yes, I know. But it isn't my fault, I slept late, if you recall." Celes folded her arms in indignation. Then he saw a complete change of mood. Celes' face brightened up and she said, "I have a few things I want to do in the city. I just can't sit around here like some spoiled noble. And besides, I really cannot have the maids serving me." She grabbed him by the wrist, "You're coming, aren't you?" She looked at him and Anders realized he missed most of what she said.

"I'm sorry. I was trying to remember…" He pulled his hand away from her to scratch his head. "Alistair had a message for you. He says you should meet with the palace seamstress who will make a dress for you?" Her face brightened up like a child's.

"Really? Well, let's go!" She looked so excited, like he did when he first shot lightning from his fingers. She was humming the tune she played on her flute before the battle, almost skipping on the way to the bower of the castle.

They arrived at the bower of the castle where Celes was talking animatedly to the seamstress, Farine, about the different patterns that would be included in her dress, how many pleats, fussing over the measurements and picking the colour combinations. Anders was sitting by the side, just watching. Looks like I'm closer to my dream than I thought after all.

After the dress-fitting, Celes noticed a knight going outside the back gates and insisted on following. When she saw the practice grounds, she practically squealed with joy. "I want to join! But first!" she grabbed his upper arm and they were at the market district before he could utter a protest. She went around the city tossing a sovereign in the air, and giving him the occasional look of joy. Her exhilarating mood was contagious and he soon found himself smiling along with her, letting the day take him wherever it did.

They went to Wade's Emporium and Celes bought a new pair of violet vambraces that matched her favorite dagger, then she procured sturdier pauldrons to protect her shoulders from future arrow attacks. And at Anders' insistence, she reluctantly let Wade measure her for a leather waistband that fit under her armor and extended over her stomach. It would be a tough second skin for her, so she would not get hurt so badly next time. He did not want to see her hurt. When she paid Wade for the goods, they left and she headed to the Alienage.

"Why do you want to go to the Alienage?" Anders asked, and she was quiet. "Is it not just the elves who stay there?"

At the gates, she whispered softly, "My father was an elf."

Anders goggled, "I see."

They were greeted by the Alienage hahren, Valendrian. He was suspicious to find a mage and a battle maiden at the gates of the alienage. But when he realized they were Grey Wardens, he relaxed and welcomed them to the Alienage. Celes led the way, walking through the streets towards the venadahl tree and spoke to some of the residents. Anders could tell that it was an overwhelming experience for Celes.

When they left, she had said to him, "The city elves… are different." Then they returned quietly to the palace.

At the dining table, Anders watched Celes closely; she seemed to have lost the spirit she had at the start of the day. He wondered why. She put on a farce, a ploy meant to deceive. Cheerful on the outside, but her eyes were devoid of happiness that eve. She will talk about it when she is ready; he surmised that much and poked his fork through the meat on his plate.

"Have you hit the practice grounds yet, Celes?" Hughe was asking, when they left the dining hall. She seemed to perk up slightly, "No, but I am planning to do so tomorrow morning. It would not do if I were to get rusty from lack of practice."

"I'll come to watch." Anders chipped in; somebody had to make sure they did not get bloodied up too badly. Hughe laughed heartily. "You know, mage, there is a weapons master who can show you how to use that staff of yours properly. Knowing how to wield the staff can be as useful as casting spells with it." Hughe slapped him on the back, not knowing his own strength, which took the breath out of Anders and almost lost him his dinner. Ugh.

"We'll see. It is fun to watch and cheer all the same." Anders jibed and they separated to go to their own rooms. He watched as Celes walked to the end of the hallway and pause at her door. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." She released the knob. "I think I won't go to bed just yet."

"What are your plans?" Anders closed his own room door and leaned against it, facing her.

Her gaze followed the floor to the entrance of the hallway and said, "I'm going for a walk."

She did not seem like she would want company, and he was not the type to force his presence on others too often, but his curiosity got the better of him. "I'll come with you." She did not object, and just started walking toward the courtyard.

They sat on the steps, beside the fountain. The stars were beautiful that night, elusive diamonds that shimmered at unattainable heights. He was admiring the night sky when he heard the familiar whistling of a flute. She played a different melody that night. The tune was heavy, whimsical, and then it was uplifting, like hope in despair. When the tune ended, she got up and walked to the lawn.

"Anders, do you like it at night?" Her question was surprising. He thought about it for the barest of moments, and said, "I think that the night is very pretty. But I don't know what you're getting at." He sat down on the grass and laid his back down on it, facing the night sky; and she sat down beside him.

"Where there is light, there will be darkness. And in the darkness, shadows. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. There was a time in my life when my light was extinguished. And in the darkness came the shadows. The dark of the night is a constant reminder of that."

Celes looked down at him, "The visit to the Alienage… The elvhen there have known fear, sorrow and death all their lives. They are not Dalish, yet they are a strong people. I wish I could be that strong."

Anders looked bemused. What happened to her in the past that would have brought that on? He saw her trembling; he sat up and draped his arm over her back in attempt to soothe her. Celes laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"Let's go back."


A/N: Sorry for the non-substantial and late chapter. I was busy packing all day and my 8 hour flight was delayed by 3 hours. I hate AirAsia. Sometimes I feel guilty about pushing the plot back for character development, but all in good time.