"I take it the boy's father is none the wiser."

Fergus, bristling at Loghain's statement, jumped in before Ellie could reply. "I would like to point out that I'm not a boy."

Ignoring her brother, Ellie answered, "Father knows he's with me. That's all he needs to know." It was her idea to take Fergus out for a bit of fun in one of Denerim's middling taverns, the Hound's Tail. Her rationale was that Fergus was bound to get into trouble if left on his own, but might be satisfied with some supervised rebelliousness. In reality, she simply wanted to spend some time with him before he and her father returned to Highever later that week. Anya would not be left behind, either, and she waited to see the outcome of the negotiations, elbows propped on the back of a chair and chin resting on her hands. Cutha sat next to her, panting and likewise waiting patiently. Obviously he could not miss out on a trip to an inn so auspiciously named.

"I see." Loghain shifted on the settee, his skepticism about the plan obvious. After a moment he gestured towards Ellie's midsection. "And what about...? Should you not be looking out for yourself more carefully?"

Fergus glanced from one to the other, puzzled. "What about what?"

Ellie pursed her lips, giving her husband a warning look. She had not yet told her family about her pregnancy and did not want to start with her younger brother. "Nothing. I've been a bit nauseous on and off lately." That much was certainly true. To Loghain she added, "You could come with us, you know."

He lifted a brow. "Now that would ruin your fun, surely. Wherever I go, I am recognized. I gather that you are counting on blending in with the common element or you would be going to the Gnawed Noble or its like. Not that that place is much better when it comes down to it." After a pause, Loghain waved a hand. "Alright, do as you will. Maker knows that I don't get to forbid you anything."

Smirking at his repetition of words she had thrown at him once during an argument, Ellie gestured at her motley band. "Very well, off then. Have a good evening, my love. Don't wait up for us."

Though plainly dressed, the trio and dog could not really pass for the average commoners. Their clothing was finely made and the mabari also gave them away as wealthy. They might pass for a well-to-do merchant or trader family, however, since Ellie wore leather trousers and boots. Anya looked the part of the Cousland siblings' aunt, clad in her usual plain dress and short boots, unruly brown curls cropped short as always and covered with a headscarf. Fergus had obeyed the instruction to "dress roughly" with enthusiasm, wearing mud-spattered riding pants and a shirt with holes in it.

It was dusk as they made their way down Drakon hill, through the wealthier streets that bordered the palace district, and into the more crowded part of the city. Though it was high summer, there was still a chill in the air as the sun was going down. Ferelden was never truly a warm place, not for more than few hours here and there on summer afternoons.

Fergus was in a high mood at getting out from under Bryce's stern gaze for at least one evening. He walked beside his sister, at one point leaning in and asking, "What was that back there, 'my love'? Are you two all kissy now?" He began to make loud smooching noises and continued on in falsetto, "Oh, Loghain, Loghain! You're my hero!"

Ellie batted his arm with the back of her hand, smiling wryly. "Mind your tongue, Fergus. And your manners. Do you want Anya to think you grew up in a stable?"

"Too late," the mage muttered under her breath. She mostly kept to herself around her "betters," as she called nobles with barely veiled sarcasm, but with Ellie and Loghain felt no such compunction.

Fergus turned to look over his shoulder at the attendant. "Anya likes me, don't you? Better than old Smelly Ellie." Though he got no more reply than a dubious expression, the young man was already moving on to another subject. "Hey, you're a mage, right? Why don't you carry a staff?"

"I've got these," Anya replied, holding up her hands. "Staves are for pussies."

Jaw dropping, Fergus fell silent, unsure that he had actually heard what he just heard, and in so doing plowed into several passers-by. Finally he laughed and elbowed Ellie. "Aren't you going to tell her to mind her tongue?"

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at Anya, her expression amused. "Just don't go repeating that in front of Father. Or Mother, Maker help us."

"Maker help me, you mean. I'm not completely stupid."

At that Anya mumbled again, but they had reached the inn door so there was no more time for debate. An iron figure of a mabari hung over the door, advertising the entrance to the Hound's Tail. No one seemed bothered by the fact that mabari had no tail to speak of, or else the irony was intended.

They had arrived at suppertime and inside, trestle tables were being set up on the sawdust floor to accommodate dinner patrons. The inn was known for its stewpot above all, and its reasonable prices, so both the better and baser sorts of smallfolk would come there for a meal.

"Mind your purse," Ellie told them as they were herded by a waitress to the end of one of the common tables.

"I haven't got a 'purse,'" Fergus reminded her. "That's what I brought you for."

Almost the moment they sat down, trenchers of stew were slapped down in front of them, and common bowls of pickles and bread set out on their table. Other patrons filled in the chairs next to them, stocky men who judging by the smell were either sailors or dock workers. They gave Ellie appreciative looks, but simply said "m'lady," repeating the same greeting to Anya. Cutha took a spot under the table at his mistress' feet. At Ellie's direction the waitress put down a trencher of stew for him as well.

"Did you grow up in the Tower, Anya?" Fergus asked over dinner. The mage shot a glance from him to Ellie but did not respond. Fergus' brow furrowed. "What?"

"It's not a good subject," Ellie explained.

The mage cut in to reply, "I grew up in Lothering, boy. You ever been to Lothering?" At the shake of his head, she nodded in satisfaction. "Just as well. Armpit of Ferelden. Full of shysters and pissants, and those are the decent folk." Elissa smiled but said nothing. In more unguarded moments her attendant spoke differently about the town, remarking on the beauty of its river and countryside, but she gathered that Anya had experienced less than warm treatment from the people.

"Oh." Fergus fell silent a moment, then pressed, "But eventually you had to go to the Tower?"

"Fergus!"

Anya held up a hand. The men at the table were looking over at them, looking at her especially, but she answered in a calm voice. "What is it you want to know, boy? Did the needle-dick templars drag me kicking and screaming to their big needle-dick tower in the sky? It wasn't like that. I hid until I got tired of hiding, and then I turned myself in. Why do you think they let me back out again, these many years later? Because they know I don't want to run."

The boy looked chastened. "I see. Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It is what it is." Anya returned to her stew and that settled the subject.

After they were finished eating, they got up to let others in, and eventually found spots among the smaller tables nestled against the walls. Anya joined in a game of dice with some tradeswomen, Ellie and Fergus sat down at their own table to a game of doublets, and Ellie stood a round of ale for all of them.

After she and Fergus had started on their second game, a plump woman carrying a tankard of ale made to walk past their table but stopped, eyes fixed on Ellie. After a moment she leaned over to them. "I know you, m'lady. I seen you walking to the Chantry on the night they sang the Chant for poor King Maric. You're the Teyrn's wife, ain't ya? As I live! May I?" She didn't wait for permission before she squeezed in next to Fergus and plopped her mug down on the table. Fergus, pressed up against the wall, gave the woman a sideways look of distaste that was soon drawn towards the crest of bosom spilling out of her bodice.

Trying to stay polite, Ellie kept her voice low. "Please, good woman..."

"So, you're wed to the Hero of River Dane. Pardon me, m'lady, I mean no offense. It's just that me and the girls in the neighborhood was chattin' about how he took himself another wife and a young lady like yourself." Leaning in, she went on in a whisper. "He looks like a mean one, begging your pardon. He doesn't... you know..." She made a slapping motion at the air.

Ellie whitened. "Certainly not!"

"Is that so? Good, good. I'm glad to 'ear it. I didn't think so m'self, never in life. But some of the girls said it, on account of he's always got such a sour look, and 'cause those soldierly types can be rough on a woman. But I said, 'not the Hero of River Dane', not him."

"My husband is a gentleman."

"I'm glad to 'ear it, m'lady, truly," the woman replied, appearing genuinely relieved. She paused and glanced at Fergus, rubbing at her fingers nervously and seeming to weigh what to say next. Finally she leaned in, whispering, "And if you don't mind me askin', how is he... y'know..." When Ellie made no reply, the woman took it for misunderstanding and scooted forward, bosom dangerously close to spilling her ale. "How is he y'know, in the sack?"

Ellie did not know whether to burst out laughing or shout at the woman leave them in peace. If the prattler had been a noble, she no doubt would be asking about Cailan rather than Loghain. At least, Ellie reflected, there was some relief in that it was about the right man. After a pause she decided to indulge the woman a bit, if not on that particular subject. Despite her presumptuous questions, she had a pleasing earnestness in her pretty smile, and Ellie considered that it wouldn't hurt to hear what the common people were talking about. "Fergus, go check on Anya," she directed.

"What? No, I want to stay." The lad had apparently decided that it was not so bad being squeezed between a wall and a stack of female flesh, especially with the turn the conversation was taking.

"Go on. See that she's not cheating again over there. I don't want any trouble." Grumbling, Fergus made to go and the curious woman moved aside to let him get out, sliding back into her place and looking at Ellie expectantly. The teyrna gave her a spare smile. "So. I suppose you should tell me your name. You may call me Ellie."

The woman's name was Moira, named for Maric's mother as it turned out, like more than one girl child of her generation. She was a brickmaker's wife. It was easy enough to distract her from embarrassing questions about Loghain by asking about her own husband and children. On that subject, Moira went on expansively. In the meantime they were joined by a third woman, Moira's friend, and over a hand of Antivan Nuns the three women ran through the gossip in the city. It was a great deal about the newly crowned king and his upcoming wedding. Ellie was relieved to find that though Moira's neighborhood tongue-wagging brigade had heard that the new king had "sown his oats," they did not name names, and both her card-playing companions seemed utterly charmed by the queen-to-be. They were certain that the young king ("such a 'andsome one," Moira sighed) would settle down with her now. Let us hope so, thought Ellie to herself as she waited for the deal.

It was late when Moira took her leave, declaring the teyrna "as fine a lady as I've ever met, on my life." Ellie found Anya schooling Fergus in the arts of the dice. He appeared to be enjoying himself immensely either despite or because of being surrounded by women, and despite the fact that he was in hock for six silvers which Ellie was forced to pay out. They passed Moira at the bar and Ellie exchanged cheery farewells with her. After a few paces she stopped, hesitated, then turned back. Leaning in, Ellie whispered in Moira's ear, "Like a bull."

The woman blinked in surprise, and a moment later burst out laughing. "Good for you, m'lady," Moira called after her. "Good for you."

There were still people out on the streets despite the late hour, but after a quarter hour's walking and chattering, Ellie had to acknowledge that she did not know exactly where they were. Denerim's narrow streets, particularly in the poorer areas, tended all to look alike. She was reluctant to ask for directions to the palace district, and at any rate, Fort Drakon was always clearly visible except in the narrowest alleys, so they simply made for it. When they first smelled and then heard the river, however, Ellie began to get worried. They were closer to the alienage than she had supposed. Fewer and fewer people were passing them on the street. There was nothing to do but keep going, however.

It was not long before Ellie had the feeling that they were being followed. She was not truly afraid until she saw figures hopping along the rooftops, and afterward realized that all the other people on the street had vanished. Just as she was about to warn Anya, three men and then another dropped down onto the alleyway in front of them. There were more coming in behind. Cutha began to growl, causing the men to slow their advance but not to stop.

"Uh, Ellie..." Fergus began, finally realizing what was happening. He reached for his belt, where a dagger was sheathed, but Ellie put a hand on his arm to stay him. The last thing she wanted to see was her young brother in a fight.

"You don't want to hinder us, friends." Ellie's heart was pounding in her chest, but she forced herself to be calm as she had always been taught for battle. "We have nothing that would interest you and plenty that wouldn't. This is a full-bred mabari war hound, for one thing."

"What if what interests us is you, sweet piece?" one of the men sneered, voice echoing in the alley. It provoked ripples of laughter in front of them and behind. They were not going to be dissuaded, then, not even by the mabari's snarling and snapping. The men began to draw rusty, nocked swords and axes out of their belts.

Taking a breath, Ellie murmured, "Anya, have you got anything here?" The mage was a healer, but Ellie had seen her shoot lightning flashes at bothersome insects, and once on their journey from Gwaren, she had tried to bring down a bird for supper. The charred results convinced them that it wasn't the best hunting method, but Ellie was hoping that it might be of some use against bandits.

"Just give me a moment, m'lady."

"All I need is a distraction. The men up ahead, aim there." She was fairly certain that she needed more than a distraction, but it was a start. "Fergus, you stay out of this. Stick close to Anya."

"Give it up and come quiet and no one gets hurt," one of the men was saying to her. "We just want to borrow you for a while, empty your pockets, and by morning you'll be on your way." Another added, "Might not be able to walk so good, though." That brought on more laughter.

"Anya?" Ellie's tone was more urgent. She began to feel the air around them crackle.

"You stupid blighters should've minded your mothers," Anya grumbled. Some of the bandits saw the fire gathering in her hands and cried out "witch!", but too late. As a hail of flame knocked the fore group off their feet and ignited their clothing, Ellie turned and reached down to her boot. A moment later one of the men approaching from behind stopped in his tracks and grasped at his neck, eyes registering confusion at how a dagger had ended up sticking from it. He fell to his knees, while the man next to him was thrown to the ground by the mabari and a moment later had his neck torn clean away in Cutha's powerful jaws.

Then there were only two bandits left standing, gaping at the ruin and at the screams of their fellows running towards the river with hair and clothes ablaze. One of the two remaining men fled in terror, but the other's eyes bugged out with rage and he charged at Ellie. Instinctively she jumped out of the way of his axe, falling back against the building. The man's wild charge then carried him on towards Fergus and Anya.

"Fergus!" Ellie cried, scrambling for footing. He had been watching the burning men in horrified awe, but hearing her scream, Fergus turned in time to sidestep and slash at the man's arm with his dagger. It was an ingrained move, a product of his weapons training. The bandit cried out and dropped his axe, clutching at his wounded arm.

"You bastard!" he snarled, spittle flying. Fergus hesitated then, seeming rooted, blood dripping from his hand. The man was stottering to his feet, but by the time Ellie reached for the dagger at her belt, the mabari had freed himself. He showed no hesitation. There was a flash of black past Fergus and Cutha was atop the man, pinning him to the ground and tearing at his scalp.

"Cutha! To me!" Only when the man's terrified screams were silent did the hound release him and stand down, however. The siblings and Anya then stood in the smoking, blood-soaked alley, staring at each other. After the shock was broken, Ellie reached for her brother, hugging him. "You're alright?"

Fergus nodded, returning her embrace. Gradually his shaking subsided and when he released his sister, he turned to Anya. "Fireball? That was amazing!"

"Hmph. What did you expect?"

Despite the bravado in these words, when Ellie looked over at her attendant she saw that she was as shaken as they all were. "Thank you, Anya. You saved our lives." The mage's only reply was a mumbled "m'lady."

People began to appear at windows again, and some brought buckets of water to put out the fires. Eventually the guard made an appearance. Ellie and the others were brought to the nearest post to give a statement. The guardsmen were brusque and official up until the moment they realized they were dealing with the wife of Teyrn Loghain, after which their manner changed abruptly. After a few peremptory questions, the group received an official escort back to the palace.

All of them were subdued. Ellie made a stop at the pond to wash her mabari's maw of blood. "Thank you, old friend," she whispered, as much in awe as in gratitude. She had heard all the stories of what mabari could do. There was a reason that knights and lords coveted them. Cutha gave her his lolling smile and reached forward to lick at her cheek. Ellie smiled, though the hound's loyal affection seemed more serious a thing now than it had before that evening.

Loghain had indeed waited up for them. He had already figured out from Anya's sweaty, bedraggled appearance that something was amiss, and met Ellie at the door as she came in.

"By the Maker, Ellie, what is going on?" He grasped her arms, looking her up and down with concern.

Wearily she replied, "We're fine. Some bandits."

"I knew it. I never should have..." A moment later Ellie was crushed against Loghain's chest in an embrace, and she made no protest, slipping her arms around his back. "I know you can look out for yourself, but I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."

She held her husband silently for a time, then kissed at his neck, saying, "Don't worry, Loghain. We sorted it out."

The following afternoon, a messenger came saying that there were templars in the palace. They requested the teyrna's appearance, and directed that her ladyship should bring "the bond mage." When Ellie and Anya arrived at the palace, they found that the templars were with Cailan in his audience room.

The king stood up as they entered. "Teyrna Elissa, I'm so relieved to see you're alright. If only you had allowed some of my guard to accompany you... At any rate, these knights would like to ask you a few questions about what happened. It will be brief." Cailan's tone made it clear that this last part was a command.

The meeting was brief, but only because Cailan cut it off. Despite the templars' officious politeness, it was also unpleasant, especially for Anya. Over and over they questioned whether the attack on the men had truly been provoked. Anya kept her answers short and deferential, though Ellie could see the disdain just below the surface, and felt the humiliation that must lay just beneath that. The mage was more courteous than she had ever seen her, however. It suddenly was clear to Ellie that Anya's good-humored sneering with her and with Loghain was more a sign of trust than of disrespect. She was afraid of templars, that much was plain.

After Cailan had dismissed the templars, he caught Ellie's arm as she was leaving. Voice low and earnest, he urged, "Please, come into my study, Elissa. I need to talk to you. Please."

Ellie sighed, hesitated, then turned to gesture for Anya to wait there. The mage rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, settling in against the doorjamb to wait.

Closing the study door behind them, Cailan turned to face Ellie, his manner shy as he approached. "I'm really glad you didn't get hurt. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

"Thank you, Cailan." Ellie tried to step back to put some distance between them, but the king closed again and reached for her hand.

"I just wanted you to know that this wedding in a few weeks, it changes nothing."

"Your Majesty?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Maker, stop that, will you? I mean that just because I am marrying Anora, that doesn't change how I feel. About you."

"Cailan, Anora is a fine woman. I think she genuinely cares about you."

"We were friends once," he allowed. "Anora has changed, though. Even apart from that, she was never like you."

Ellie shook her head, pressing her eyes closed. The warmth in his voice felt like a condemnation. She had told him before that they had to move on, and yet he always found an excuse not to believe her. Loghain talked about how stubborn Cailan could be, but her husband really had no idea. Taking a deep breath, Ellie opened her eyes. "Cailan, you must listen to me. That time is past for us. You must no longer think of me in that way."

"You're worried about your husband." He appeared amused. "Don't worry about Loghain. I know how to handle him. Besides, I don't think he would really mind. Whatever possessed him to go through with this marriage your father got you into, it can't really..."

"You're not listening." Ellie grasped Cailan's arm and gazed up at him, willing him to see the truth. The affection in his eyes almost made her look away, and almost ruined her courage. She pressed on. "What was between us, that is in the past. I don't feel that way any longer."

Cailan hesitated, confused. "I know you said something like that before your wedding, but I thought you were just worried about propriety. About politics."

"I am worried about politics. Aren't you? Didn't you see what they did in the Landsmeet? But that is not the only reason I say this."

The king took a step back, his mouth twisting thoughtfully. One hand came up to his chest and realization slowly registered in his expression. "You're serious. You really don't feel the same for me any longer." He said it as a fact, though looked to Ellie for confirmation. At her nod, Cailan paused, then uttered a short laugh. "I've been a fool, haven't I? Maker's breath, I've been such a fool."

"Cailan..."

He lifted a hand to ward her off, though after a moment it fell. The other hand still rested on his chest. "You don't feel something for Loghain, do you?" It was as though the idea had not yet occurred to him, as though it were impossible. When Ellie didn't answer, Cailan laughed in disbelief and turned away, bracing on his desk. "Holy Maker, replaced by Loghain. That was not something I would ever have seen coming." He sucked in a breath, finally going on without looking at her. "You know, it drove me crazy that day of your wedding, the thought that he had rights to you. The idea of him touching you. He's my friend, but that was too much. My only consolation was that it meant you would be coming to Denerim."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"No." Cailan's voice was bitter and resigned. "No. I did that to myself." With an obvious effort, the king turned and forced a smile. "I'm sorry, Ellie. Truly, I'm sorry. I've been an ass, and I must have put you in a very difficult position."

Despite her relief, Ellie was cut to the heart by the quiver of emotion in Cailan's voice. It occurred to her that she should be happy that he had finally acknowledged the truth, that she needn't hide it any longer, but instead she simply felt low. "You weren't an ass. You were always kind to me, Cailan, always. Anora is a lucky woman."

He gave a small, harsh laugh. "The only one the Maker is smiling on here appears to be Loghain Mac Tir. It has to be the Maker's favor, if the old man has won your affection with those scowls of his."

Ellie smiled weakly, letting the matter go. "We must make the best of it now, Cailan. I remain your friend, as always."

Cailan's smile was even less convincing. "So we must. You'll excuse me now, Elissa. I have some things..." His voice drifted off and Ellie said nothing more, turning to leave.

That evening, she was to have dinner with her father at the Cousland estate. Fergus had stayed the night at the residence after their ordeal, so Ellie returned there to retrieve him and Cutha.

As they walked, Fergus spoke up, his voice sheepish. "I wasn't much use last night, was I? I know you're supposed to press an attack when your opponent is disabled, but I froze. I'm sorry."

Ellie shook her head. "Don't be sorry. It is one thing to talk about killing a man and another to do it. You've always had a soft heart. That's not a bad thing, Fergus."

"It would have been a bad thing if you'd have died." Ellie made no reply, and after a few minutes silent walking Fergus added, "Could you do me a favor and never, ever say that again? The bit about the soft heart?"

Laughing, Ellie fluffed her brother's hair. "Are you embarrassed at being a soft touch? Don't be. Some woman is going to melt over it someday."

"I'd rather she melt over my muscles of cold, hard veridium."

"Those too."

Over dinner, Ellie decided to get the bad news over with first, relating their experience with the bandits while Bryce listened soberly. He did not berate her for leading them into danger, though Ellie had almost hoped that he would. She had been berating herself about it ever since, and it would have made her feel better to have someone else doing the job for her.

With the unpleasant part out of the way, Ellie took a breath and went on to the better news. "I have something else to tell you, Father. I wish Mother were here, but you'll have to tell her the news yourself. I'll include a letter, of course."

When she paused, Bryce prompted, "Do take your time, Elissa. We'll be back around Denerim next year, for instance."

Ellie laughed, fiddling nervously with her glass. "Well, it's just, you see... I am going to have a baby."

There was a clatter as Fergus dropped his knife in surprise. He burst out in laughter a moment later. "See! You are kissyface."

"Rather more than 'kissyface', pup," Bryce put in. He then turned his gaze on Ellie with a solemn curiosity, remaining silent. The scrutiny made her squirm.

"It's good news, isn't it?" she asked impatiently.

Stirring, Bryce replied, "Certainly. Certainly, a happy thing. I am pleased for you, Elissa."

"You don't look very pleased."

The elder Cousland gestured vaguely. "No, no. I am just surprised, that is all. I had not thought this would happen, certainly not so soon."

The implication was clear to Ellie. No one, not even her own family, believed that she and Loghain had a real marriage. Reddening, the thought crossed her mind that her parents might have even expected, as others did, that she would continue to carry on with Cailan. She knew that political marriages were often cynically made, but it stung her to realize that her parents assumed no better about her. Reaching for her glass, Ellie raised it and spoke with forced cheer. "Well, shall we toast? To the newest Cousland."

"Mac Tir, you mean," Bryce corrected.

Ellie pursed her lips angrily. "Cousland and Mac Tir."

"To Smelly Ellie the Second," Fergus agreed with a raise of his glass, either oblivious or unconcerned about the tension between his father and sister. It was not the first time that the two, both strong-willed, had butted heads.

Bryce raised his glass, though his manner was resigned. At last he spoke, tone careful. "When you told me of this marriage, I admit I did not think it would lead to good things. I put you in the Maker's hands, but have had my doubts about whether it was wise for me to give my consent. Perhaps I was wrong. It seems there will be a bright days ahead."

Cautiously, Ellie relaxed at this. She knew how difficult it was for her father to see her married to any man, and Loghain had especially given him and Eleanor pause. Smiling, she lifted her glass again. "Brighter days."