Your (not-quite) first meeting with the King
Fergus grew quite proud when he looked at his efforts, the taffeta dress did look very nice on his sister, the garment shimmering an almost-violet in the muted candlelight of the hall.
Elissa appeared wonderful, almost fairy-like, despite her initial complaints. It was a shame that they could not replace the little pearl tiara that had been so carefully woven into her hair earlier, but that wouldn't be missed, much—and it was already a miracle that they had been able to comb out the intricate braiding which did not survive that trip to the stables.
Fergus watched as the little girl laughed at something the young Howe had whispered, very likely something about the esteemed Lady Bryland, and her stuck-up little daughter. This left Alistair looking so mournful at their private jokes, even as he followed closely behind. Fergus found himself walking to the boy's left, a friendly smile plastered on his face, if only to give poor Alistair some assurance that he hadn't been completely forgotten.
But Alistair barely even acknowledged this, for he still stared quite so hard at the girl in front of them. Fergus could only look on, unaware that they had been spotted through the milling crowd.
"Elissa Evangeline Cousland—" the sharp voice sent chills down their backs and for the second time that day, Fergus felt the imminent onslaught of trouble. At least his sister was there to diffuse the situation somewhat— Fergus could not imagine facing his mother twice today without her by his side. He would be blamed for the oversight.
"Hello mother," his sister smiled winsomely, gazing up the advancing parent, exuding nothing but innocence. This act did not work as well as one would expect, but it calmed Teryna Cousland somewhat to see her daughter act like the proper child she rarely was in public.
"So, how was the… privy, pup?" Interrupted their father, smoothing over his wife's irritation in a calm, soothing tone.
"Oh, I didn't go to the privy. I went to the stables, to see the horses," replied the little imp lightly in a flash of enlightenment. Fergus snorted- he knew that the lie about the washroom would fail anyway.
Their father's voice grew somewhat amused. "Ah I see. Your brother said…"
"And I didn't tell Fergus that, he would have blabbed—so I said I needed the privy." Her quick reply must have seemed almost natural to all who heard, though Fergus had no illusions that the fib went unnoticed by their parents. The children knew punishments would be lenient on the younger sibling's transgressions.
"So you see, mother of my children, it was all Elissa's idea," said Father with a growing grin. This tale would be allowed to pass, out of his sister's sheer stubbornness. She had taken to sticking with the most ludicrous tales, never wavering from them even under the most tempting of bribes.
Their mother only pursed her lips firmly. Fergus heaved a sigh, before belatedly remembering that they were not quite in the clear. There was still the matter of the clothes.
"Hmm... Is that so?" Mother began, disbelief quite evident in her voice. She turned."Nathaniel— I trust that you won't tell me otherwise?"
The best friend shook his head most solemnly, though this assurance counted for little. He would never betray his Lissa, that much was clear, even to their parents.
Father swallowed a suspicious throaty chuckle as Mother's brow furrowed just a little more. Her blue eyes alighted on the nervous child who had only seconds before held on so tightly to her daughter's hand. Thankfully, Bryce Cousland intervened. "And who is this young man with you? He is certainly quite… well-dressed." No one mentioned its uncanny likeness to that second suit of Fergus's.
The two young Couslands turned and stared at Alistair, Elissa worrying at her lip and Fergus saying a silent prayer. The boy gave in question said his name with an awkward bow.
"My name's Alistair, Teryn Cousland." The sandy-haired boy struggled hard to meet the man's eye. Fergus knew that the newest addition to their party would've bolted, if not for his sister's encouraging actions.
"Just Alistair?" mused Bryce Cousland softly as he eyed the four children carefully.
"And why is he…" Began their mother, her curiosity taking on dangerous undertones, which prompted Elissa to panic, and she babbled furiously in response.
"I met him in the stables and he hadn't eaten, and his clothes were dirty, so I loaned him Fergus's. He's nice, and has wonderful table manners… Oh I also brought him food from the buffet—none of which would be missed- that's why I was gone for so long. We ate ch-eese, and drank the grape juu-ice, and talked ever so long. But then I stained my favorite dress, and we went off to change, and I suppose that this one isn't so bad… Not that my dress or lateness is his fault, exactly. Oooh the white chargers were so majes-stic, Father—who did they belong to?"
The rush of words shocked the adults, and they had barely processed their daughter's babbling when King Maric's voice called at them from across the hall.
"I say, whatever is going on here?" The tall man was cheerful and quite pink from the festivities, but he began to approach the couslands' party. Now it was Fergus's turn to want to run away, for he had spied the Prince and Lady Anora being swept quite surely in their direction. What if their dreadful treatment of the two came out? Their parents would be mortified, embarrassed thoroughly in front of whole of Ferelden's finest.
"Oh, it's… Nothing. We just found our daughter." Father began, falsely cheerful.
"Ah, she has returned from the… privy, yes? The King gave Fergus another broad smile and winked conspiratorially.
"Yes, your Majesty—this is she. Elissa cousland." Elissa stepped forward and curtseyed very nicely, and Fergus noticed that she made a point of pushing Alistair further behind her.
"Ah, she is every bit as lovely as your wife— and all good Ferelden stock too," The King announced, abruptly turning and raising his glass at the quivering Arl Eamon. Fergus wondered what had passed among the adults, for a murmur took up again, and words like "Orlesian" and "foreigner" were heard. The bride was apparently not so popular.
"Thank you, your Majesty." Bryce Cousland smiled, before attempting to lead the conversation away from the troupe of children, or of the touchy lineage business.
"Have you met the Howes? This is their son, Nathaniel." At this, the boy's parents made their way to the front of the crowd, and Fergus winced as Arl Howe's heavy hand clapped down on his friend's shoulder.
"The Arl and Arlessa, the young man's parents."
"Your Majesty."The pair bowed, as did Fergus's best friend, trapped by his parents' presence.
Elissa moved suddenly, and Fergus turned to see her catching hold of Alistair, who was squirming out past the crowd. All eyes remained on the royal party, and the nobles soon closed the gap through which his sister had disappeared. She was gone again.