Life in the circle was quiet and relaxing. On the second day after their arrival Zevran excused himself - right now he was the only agent Alistair and Miranda trusted to get to the bottom of both Anora's death and Alistair's poisoning. Although Miranda was concerned for him she couldn't afford not to let him go, but she did manage to illicit a promise that he would keep in touch more regularly than on his previous trips.
"If I can, my lady," he said to her at the doors to the Tower. "I will make every effort."
She kissed him on the cheek. "Please, make every effort to be alive when you come back as well," she said.
The elf grinned.
Alistair's condition improved slowly. The first week was spent in bed - much to his annoyance and Miranda's delight. She spent a lot of time trekking back and forth from the library, bringing him reading material which he devoured voraciously. She was a little surprised at how much he seemed to enjoy it.
"You're reminding me of Wynne," she said to him one afternoon, lying curled in the crook of his arm while he read passages to her from a book on Tevinter History. "I never knew you loved to read so much."
"King, remember," he said. "Not much time for it these days. And although Wynne was happy to lug half a library around in her gear while we were traveling, I had this pesky stuff called armour in mine."
"Morrigan might have thought a little differently of you if she could see you now," she said trailing her fingers across his chest.
"She would have claimed I was pretending," he said. "That woman formed her opinion of me before I even opened my mouth. Probably dazzled by my looks and afraid to admit it."
"Mmm. Probably. I know I was."
He grinned at her. "All the ladies go on about how suave I am..." he said.
"All the ladies? Were these the ones also trying to pry your tongue off those icy lampposts?"
"Honesty will be the death of me," he said. He looked back down at the book. "Given my condition, there's not much else I can do here but read," he said. He closed the book and clasped her closer, his voice deepening to a point specifically designed to make her tingle. "Although a few things are coming to mind at the moment."
She took a breath and shifted slightly against him. "Gently now," she whispered, "you don't want to exert yourself."
"I wasn't planning on exerting myself at all, actually." His hands started to wander across her back and down further.
"Are you still angry about being stuck here?" she asked, arching a little so he could reach more of her.
His hands stopped. She gave a little sigh of disappointment. "No," he said softly. "Apart from the constant headaches and not being able to get up, it's been a bit like a holiday to be honest."
"You haven't really stopped since we killed the archdemon, have you?" she said then, wonderingly. "I didn't really think of it before..."
"Well, Warden Commander, I don't seem to remember you pausing for breath much along the way either."
"Let's take advantage of it then," she said, sitting up and straddling him suddenly. He put the book aside and smiled up at her.
"Every second," he said.
They held a small celebration on the day Miranda's pregnancy reached the fourth month. Although Anders and Rowan said she was by no means completely out of danger, they both seemed to think that the risk of losing the baby had dramatically reduced.
Alistair was out of bed the next day - although he had to walk with the aid of a cane and he was remarkably short of breath. Anders pronounced his body free of the poison.
"Now you just have to eat and exercise and get back to your normal self," he said.
She could see he was angry at the way his body responded. From the age of twelve he had been trained in arms and he was used to a body at the peak of athleticism. To be reduced to a hobbling wisp was frustrating to say the least. She caught him trying to lift Duncan's shield one afternoon and had to rush to stop him before he toppled under the weight.
"When I found that in the warehouse in Denerim, I could barely lift it," she scolded him. "What in Andraste's name do you think you're doing?"
He growled. "What I'm supposed to be able to do!" he snapped back, before collapsing in an armchair. He was shirtless and the effort had turned him pale and sweaty. The white tooth marks of the archdemon that speckled his abdomen stood out in sharp contrast to the gold of his skin and his lips were pressed together in pain. She knelt next to him and stroked his hair.
"You will be able to again," she said. "It's just going to take a little time."
They received a letter from Zevran the following week. It told them nothing save that he was still alive and still investigating. They hadn't expected anything more, but Miranda was beginning to feel a bit trapped. They were, to all intents and purposes, helpless at the tower. Their assailants must have known that was where they were headed. It was probably only a matter of time before they attacked, and she wasn't sure if they would target her and Alistair, or her brother in Denerim.
They corresponded daily with Fergus, who was fulfilling his role as regent admirably. The news of Miranda's pregnancy was being kept secret - their absence was explained by a diplomatic mission to Orlais.
Alistair's strength increased to the point where he could spar again - no armour yet, but the templars were happy to oblige him for a short session each day. He was obviously relieved.
She was watching him spar one morning in the tower courtyard with a female templar by the name of Rhianna when the message from Zevran arrived. A mage apprentice tapped her on the shoulder and handed her the envelope - sealed with Zevran's mark.
"Alistair!" she called. He looked up and was promptly bashed from his feet by the young templar's shield.
"Oh... your majesty.." she stammered as Miranda hurried to his side. "I'm so sorry... I..."
"Ooof," Alistair said, sitting up. "It's quite all right young lady," he said between breaths. "You saw an advantage and took it. I was stupid to look away."
She continued to stammer out apologies until Miranda took pity on her and ordered her away. She rolled her eyes at Alistair and helped him to his feet. "If I'd done that with you next to me you would have knocked her flat before she could get to me," he said then.
"Just goes to show you shouldn't go into a fight without me," she said. "We've got a message from Zev."
He sheathed his sword and motioned her to open it.
Your majesties,
I hope this finds you well. I anticipate the negotiations will come to a conclusion before the twentieth of this month. I recommend your immediate response. We should be able to ship fifty units to the agreed upon location before that time, but only if you are prepared for any natural delays.
Yours,
Zevran Aranai.
Alistair breathed in sharply. "That gives us four days," he said.
"Negotiations means an attack with mages," Miranda said. "Plus fifty troops. Do we have enough protection here? I haven't seen fifty templars..."
"He didn't mention Fergus. They must be holding off on Denerim for now."
"That's good to know." She looked up into his eyes. "Are we safe here?" she asked him again. "You're not fit to move yet... and" she placed a hand on her growing belly "I don't think I'm in the mood for it either."
He nodded. "Greagoir, Irving and I have discussed the security of the tower thoroughly," he said. "We'll be safe."
"I don't like putting this place in danger again. After what happened during the Blight.."
He took her hand. "That wasn't your fault. Or mine."
She squeezed his hand. "We'd better get this news to Greagoir and Irving."
"I'll go. You need to find Anders and Rowan for your treatment." He placed his hand on her belly for a moment. She had begun to feel movement, there, occasionally, and although she had tried to share it with Alistair the child had been extremely uncooperative - falling still whenever her husband touched her. This time, however, he was rewarded with a sharp kick under his hand. She saw his face lighten with wonder and smiled with him. He took in a deep breath, kissed her and left.
Anders and Rowan were in her room when she got there. Anders was scowling.
"We've just had word from Zevran," she said. "There's going to be an attack in three days."
"Thank Andraste," Anders breathed. She gave a short laugh of astonishment.
"Anders?"
He blushed. "I'm sorry, Commander," he said hastily. "Just... going a bit stir crazy here. It's the longest I've been in one place since the last time I was in the Tower."
"You were in the Palace for months," she pointed out.
"Yes... but in the palace there's Denerim just outside... and not so many templars... and... to be honest Commander, they look at me here. I've never liked the way they do that."
"I thought you enjoyed it when people looked at you."
"Some people, yes. Pretty girls mainly. Templars and former teachers, no."
She sat in the chair they'd been using for her treatments. "You never did tell me how you managed to escape so many times," she said.
He smiled lopsidedly at her as he called forth power. Anders always started the treatment as he could detect the taint, but Rowan usually took over when Anders' mana was depleted.
"I can't go giving away secrets, your majesty. Any way, I'd hardly have managed it seven times if I did it the same way every time, would I?"
"Some mages get to a point where they are actually allowed to leave the tower," Rowan commented.
Anders snorted. "Do you have any idea how much bootlicking is involved in getting to that point?"
Rowan grinned. "Actually yes, I do, seeing as I'm one of those mages. As was my mother."
"Goody goodies. Both of you."
She had a lot of sympathy for Anders. She'd felt the same way, sometimes, at Highever - forced into a mould she didn't want for herself. The court lady rather than the adventurous rogue she'd always imagined herself as.
I ended up getting both, she thought.
The child inside her gave a particularly well aimed kick at her bladder. She jumped. "Ahah!" Anders said. "I felt that. Jumpy little bugger, isn't he?"
"He?" she said. "Do you know that for certain?"
Anders flashed a look at Rowan, who shook his head and tutted. "Sorry, your majesty," he said. "We weren't going to tell you unless you asked."
"I had no idea you could even tell!"
"Do you want us to tell the king?"
She thought for a moment, then shook her head, smiling. "No," she said. "Let's surprise him, shall we?"
When the attack came they were ensconced in the basement of the tower, surrounded by templars. Alistair fretted at the confinement - as did Anders. She found she was relieved - the baby was sapping her energy and she really wanted nothing but to stay stationary and protected.
They received regular updates, although the only people in the room with them were Anders and Rowan mage apprentices came to the door often. The attack had come in the middle of the night - swimmers had swarmed up the sides of the tower and attempted to break in through windows before the magical attacks began from the ground.
Alistair and Anders played dice while Rowan and Miranda read. There was a long gap between updates and she fell to pacing the room for a while, too anxious to concentrate on her book. It was nearly dawn when there was a knock at the door. Rowan opened it.
She had time to recognise the red haired Templar who had sparred with Alistair a few days ago before Rowan crumpled in a heap. Alistair leapt to his feet and she stepped back as the woman stepped into the room raising her sword. Anders gathered magic that immediately failed as the templar threw back her arms and cast holy smite. That action saved their lives, as Alistair and Miranda were both thrown in different directions. She managed to gain her feet as the templar advanced on Alistair, drawing her sword. He was struggling to his feet - more weakened than she by a spell he would normally have brushed aside. She drew her dagger and leapt for the woman's throat before she could reach him, cutting it in one smooth motion that splattered her husband and the wall with blood.
Alistair was on his feet and gasping when she felt the presence of someone else in the room and spun - too late - to face another mage advancing on them. She felt herself caught suddenly in a crushing prison of pain and cried out, unable to move. She heard Alistair roar in defiance and felt the cooling relief of his cleanse before he took two rapid steps forward and felled the mage with stunning blow to the head.
More templars poured into the room then - but they were obviously not attacking. They took quick note of the three unconscious mages and the dead templar. Alistair was on the floor, gasping for breath. She was slowly recovering from the after effects of the spell. Anders and Rowan began to move slowly, groaning.
The lead templar - Berrick, one of the Denerim contingent, rushed to her side. "Your majesty.."
"That one - " she said, pointing at the unknown mage. "He needs to be searched and restrained. Whatever you do don't let him kill himself. Search him thoroughly."
"Rhianna?" he said then, noting the body. "Did she fall defending you?"
"No, she did not," Alistair said forcefully, from the ground where he lay. "She was a traitor. My wife had to kill her."
Berrick's face twisted. "I can't believe it," he said.
"Believe it!" Alistair shouted, then blanched with the effort. "And believe me when I say if there are any more of them I'll make sure they meet the same fate. Has the attack finished?"
"The last of them have retreated. We managed to capture two assassins, but they died shortly afterwards. This mage - " he motioned to the unconscious figure, who was being carried out - "is the only..." he stopped. "Wait, that's Achart - he's a circle mage!"
Alistair groaned and Miranda had to stop herself from gasping. It wasn't that surprising - if they had managed to get to Rhianna there was no reason why they wouldn't have been able to corrupt a circle mage as well.
"So I guess we're not safe here after all," she said in a small voice. She found she had both her hands on her stomach again, as though they were armour enough to defend the child inside her.
"No," Alistair said. "No we're not."