Chapter XXI
Arl Eamon's lecture was nothing but background noise to him, his distracted mind constantly drifting back to her. He made a feeble attempt to figure out whether to feel sadness, anger or spite towards the only woman he ever loved. But although he knew why she was distancing herself from him, logic did nothing to help make him feel better.
An entire day had passed since they last spoke. He imagined she was likely awake by now. He wanted to know what happened, if she ran into Howe and managed to avenge her family or if he somehow managed to avoid her wrath. It was difficult to tell through her tired eyes, having been near death mere moments prior.
If only he could escape the arl and seek answers from her.
But would she even want to talk to him?
Alistair leaned back is his chair and placed his cheek on his hand with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped as his thoughts continued to wander.
"I can tell how entertained you are by all this, boy," Eamon said sarcastically from behind his desk, giving him a mildly annoyed look.
Alistair looked away from him, turning his gaze towards the wall. "Sorry."
"The Landsmeet will convene tomorrow. It is necessary for you to speak well before the nobles. You must remember proper etiquette, as well as proper protocol. Any misstep could prove fatal."
"Don't worry so much. It's not like they'll behead me," Alistair said with weak wave of his hand.
"They won't, but if Loghain is victorious, he surely will." Eamon stood and stepped around his desk, walking towards the fireplace. "I would hate to see that happen, Alistair."
"It won't happen…" He uttered, his gaze shifting to the floor. "Everil will be there, so I'm sure we'll make it through. She's great with words."
"That is to be expected. The Couslands were a respected family. What Howe did was unforgivable. Had Cailan not perished, he would have no doubt hung the snake for his transgression," Eamon uttered, poking at the coals before glancing over his shoulder. "Incidentally… I noticed you and Lady Everil seem close. Have you known her long?"
"Since Ostagar…" Alistair quietly replied. "And I couldn't have made it this far without her."
The arl didn't miss the pain in Alistair's voice when he said those words, and he understood then why he was so reluctant to wed the queen. He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding him with knowing eyes. "I see…"
Alistair then rose to his feet. "May I go now? I would like to check on her."
Eamon paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Make sure to rest well tonight. I will see you early morn. We will be going to the palace then."
"Of course…" He uttered as he made for the door.
xxxxxxx
Everil gazed out the window from her bed, leaning back against the headboard as she solemnly admired the twinkling stars. The flame from her fireplace warmed the room, shielding her from the cold breeze flowing through the open window while its light cast dancing shadows against the walls. She had slept the day away despite the occasional visits from her friends. And each time she would put on smiles and said she needed more sleep, yet it was all an excuse to be left alone to her thoughts.
She had yet to shed a tear, stubbornly keeping herself from caving into sorrow and from showing those around her how she truly felt. From the very beginning, their impossible task demanded nothing but strength and determination from her, and so she stood tall for her companions, even in the worst of situations. For no one ever wished to see his or her leader break like shattered glass, especially when there was so much weight on their shoulders.
At the same time, however, she wanted to be just a woman. A human who could finally mourn those she lost in the past, and the man she was about to lose to another woman in the near future. Her mind quickly went numb as the troubling thoughts continued to circle her brain, her chest compressed so tight it physically hurt. Even if she were to regain her title or her lands, Alistair couldn't risk pushing away the queen, not if he wished to keep her support and obtain the crown.
A whine made her crane her head down, her tired eyes landing upon her dog's worried stare.
She weakly reached down to scratch his ear. "I'm sorry, boy… I know you want me to smile."
He whined.
"I just need a little more time… Can you stay with me in the meanwhile?" She uttered, tilting her head at him.
He let out a soft bark, nuzzling her palm.
"Thank you…" She whispered and gently petted his head. "I am fortunate to have such a loving friend, Magnus."
A knock on the door then broke the relative silence, her head lazily turning towards it. The mabari's ears twitched, sniffing the air as he gazed towards the sound. The door then opened, and her heart wrenched upon seeing who it was.
"Hey…" Alistair greeted quietly, his troubled eyes meeting hers from across the room.
She felt herself swallow, trying to push down the knot forming in her throat. "Hi…"
He cautiously stepped in, gently closing the door behind him. "How are you feeling?"
"Wynne came by to help me bathe and treat my wounds. They're completely healed now," She replied, her gaze shifting down to her hands as she wrapped her delicate fingers around her sheets. "I'm all right now."
Alistair walked up to the side of the bed, causing her to stiffen. "Are you… sure?"
"Yes… I'm fine. You need not worry about me any longer," She said shakily, his proximity tugging at the sadness in her chest.
"Don't..." He murmured, a hurt look upon his eyes. "I almost lost you… And you know how that feels."
His words reminded her of the battle against Flemeth, his broken form flashing before her eyes, causing her grip on the sheets to tighten.
"You should go..." She uttered, still avoiding his eyes.
Her cold tone pierced his heart as a sad look crossed his features. Just days ago they slept in each other's arms, basking in the comfort their warm embrace brought. When had it all changed?
"Why are you doing this?" He asked weakly, his voice nearly a whisper.
Her brows came down into a frustrated look. "I already told you… It's over."
"So you expect me to just stop loving you?" He retorted, his voice tinted with exasperation. "To forget about you and move on to a life I didn't even want? With a woman I don't love? I can't do that!"
Why…? The words crossed her mind, her frustration growing.
"You've already given up enough for Ferelden!" He said with pain in his voice, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't push me away like this!"
Why are you making this so difficult...? She wanted to get over him, to stop hurting and let him go.
"You're the only one I—"
"Stop!" She bit out in a high-pitched voice, her angry eyes tuning towards him. "I don't want to talk anymore! I don't want to be with you anymore! Please, just leave me alone!"
Her eyes grew wide as the words left her lips, the anguished look in his eyes piercing her chest like a knife. And just like that, she suddenly felt as if she were the most terrible person in Thedas.
"Uh... All right... whatever makes you happy..." He whispered, the sadness in him turning into anger as he slowly pulled his hand away.
She watched as he turned his back to her, heading for the door.
Wait ... She thought as regret clutched at her heart.
Everil watched in silent desperation as his back grew more distant, and the farther he went, the lonelier she felt. She had no family, no one to love her like he did.
Because she failed them all that night.
If only she had been stronger. If only she had realized Howe's betrayal before it was too late.
If only she could speak up and ask him to stay.
Please wait…
She needed his arms, his love and his compassion. She needed him.
As the door began to close she weakly swung her legs over edge of the bed, stumbling as she tried to run after him. Her legs then buckled from underneath her, too weak still to carry her weight as she fell to her knees, hitting the floor just as the door clicked to a close.
"Don't go…" She whimpered, her pleading eyes upon the door as her shoulders shook. She couldn't withstand the pressure any longer, her chest so tight she felt as if she were dying. Tears flowed freely down her face, dripping down to her gown as she let out a miserable sob.
xxxxxxx
Alistair let out a quivering sigh, taking a few steps down the hall. Then a sudden tug made him stop in his tracks, drawing his attention down as he sent a puzzled look to the hound pulling on his sleeve.
Magnus whined at him, his jaw firmly holding on to the fabric.
"What is it…?" Alistair muttered awkwardly.
He whined again.
"You heard what she said… I can't be with her anymore." He went down to a knee, meeting the hound's gaze as he gently petted his hand.
He barked and then took a step back, turning to the door.
"What are you—"
Shock dawned upon him, suddenly realizing something was wrong. What about her feelings? Does she feel just as miserable as he does? And he was so focused on himself, he didn't even ask about Howe. He was so overwhelmed by his own feelings, that he almost missed the silent plea for help as she told him to leave. He had stormed out of the room, stranding her on her own when she could have possibly been feeling more alone than ever before.
Alistair stood and hurried towards her room, not caring whether or not she would cast him out once more.
Magnus followed him and sat by the door as the human rushed in, leaving the hound to stand guard outside.
When Alistair's eyes landed upon her, he immediately regretted leaving her. She knelt upon the cold floor, her eyes gazing up at him in surprise as tears poured from her eyes.
"A... Alistair…" She whimpered helplessly, her face suddenly filled with grief.
In an instant his arms were around her, holding her tightly against his chest as her body shook with each fit of uncontrollable sobs. Her hands grabbed onto his tunic as if he were her lifeline, her tears seeping into the cloth.
"I killed him…" She choked out, her words muffled by his chest. "I killed Howe… but it still hurts…!"
"I know…" He murmured into her hair, gently running his hand up and down her shaking back. He had never seen her cry in such a way. She was always the rock that carried everything upon it, and yet she never complained or showed weakness before any of them. Instead holding it all in on her own.
But having finally avenged her family was likely the release she needed.
Her sobs soon calmed as she drew in soft breaths, her grip on him loosening just a little as she softly spoke, guilt painting her voice. "I should have stayed behind that night… but like a coward, I ran. I failed them all..."
He lightly pulled her back, carefully tilting her chin up to gaze upon her tearful blue eyes. "You know that's not true."
"But…"
"There was nothing any of us could have done. Your parents also knew there was no other way. If you stayed you would have died and Howe would have remained unpunished for what he did." He tenderly wiped away her tears with his thumb, as more of them slid down her flushed cheeks. "And I also… wouldn't have known the privilege of falling in love with you."
Everil gazed up into his loving eyes, the sight of them weakening her resolve and completely disarming her defenses. She never felt so vulnerable in her life, so bare. She found herself wishing for nothing more than to be in his arms a while longer, to feel his touch and his lips upon her, to drown her sorrows by losing herself in him.
"Alistair..." She breathed as he nuzzled her forehead, her quiet voice filled with the longing she felt. "Lay with me tonight…"
He gazed down at her, her pleading words and begging eyes stirring something primal within him. It filled him with the intense desire to hold her and soothe away her pain, making it difficult to keep his own restraints in check.
Alistair released a soft breath as he slowly leaned closer, their lips brushing in a soft kiss as a tear rolled down her cheek. Then he kissed her again, tenderly suckling on her quivering bottom lip as she quietly whimpered.
She weakly wrapped her arms around his neck, gently pulling him down for a passionate, yet bittersweet kiss. And as their tongues slowly danced he slid an arm behind her back and the other under her legs to delicately hoist her into his arms.
He broke the kiss for a brief moment as he carried her to the bed, then laid her down upon it as he climbed in and between her legs, his lips claiming hers once more. He leaned on one arm to support his weight, trying not to hurt her weakened body as he lay upon her, their tongues locked in a tango as his pulse quickened.
It had only been days since the last kiss they shared, yet it felt as if it were a decade of waiting. He had missed the taste of her lips, the warmth of her body under his, the softness of her fingertips as they stroked his cheek. He sighed as their kiss grew more passionate, his hand coming up to gently stroke her temple with his thumb as he absently grinded his hips against hers.
The sensation of his aroused manhood pressing against her parts drew a feeble moan out of her, heat quickly spreading up between her legs. She shivered as his hand slowly slid under her gown, his fingers like feathers against her soft skin as they slowly made their way up her leg and thigh.
Her heart raced as she began to undo the buckles on his vest, her fingers gradually working off the straps one by one. He let out a heavy breath through his nose, his lips still upon hers, enjoying the sweet taste of her mouth as he reached down to help her undo his belt. After taking his belt off, he withdrew from her lips and leaned up, gazing down at her longing eyes before taking off his vest and pulling his tunic over his head. As he did, her delicate fingers traced his abs, causing him to shudder under her touch. He then tossed his shirt aside before his lips descended upon her neck, his fingers tugging at the lace upon her robe.
Warmth spread through her body as she felt his kisses slowly make their way down her chest, then between her breasts as she panted for breath. He gently spread the front of her gown open, exposing her breasts as the cool air flowing from the window graced her hardened nipples. Then his mouth enveloped one of them as she groaned, her back arching as his hot tongue stroked the sensitive bud, causing tingling ripples. She moaned as he sucked a little harder, his hand finding its way to her undergarments, his fingers untying the knots holding the cloth in place.
"Alistair…" Everil whispered, her voice laced with desire as she felt her body crave his.
He removed the clothing from her hips and tossed it to the floor, before kicking his boots off and ridding himself of his trousers. He then gazed down at her, his hands tenderly moving up her thighs as he slid up her skirts, exposing her legs and hips.
She shuddered under his gaze, her eyes trailing down to his erect member, seeing it pulse in anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs once more.
Her heart twisted wistfully as his lips softly met hers, his swelled member pressing against her moist opening before slowly penetrating her, the sensation of his length sliding in making her moan.
Heartache painfully intertwined with her love for him, causing her eyes to burn with unshed tears as they became one for what was to be the last time. She swallowed down the miserable feeling, trying to focus instead on him as he began to move with careful, loving thrusts, the strokes against her aching loins earning him a weak whimper.
He moaned as he kissed her jaw, enjoying the feeling of her hot insides pressing along his manhood. Gentle waves of pleasure traveled down his shaft each time he slid in and out of her, urging him to continue as her whimpers filled his ears.
Everil bit her lip and ran her fingers up his back, touching every muscle as they tensed with each deliberate movement of his body. And each time their hips met was bliss, as the gradual friction dragged on the pleasurable sensations flowing through her.
Aching for more, she carefully rolled them over and leaned up, her legs straddling him as she moved. She lifted her hips, then lowered them, her womanhood slowly sliding up and down his length as he moaned her name. She took hold of her clothes and slipped them up and over her head as the flames of the fireplace illuminated her naked body.
She drew in a breath when his fingers gently traced her stomach, caressing the rose-colored mark the enemy's weapon left upon her fair skin. Her eyes then met his before he sat up and sought her lips, his arms gingerly wrapping around her waist while she continued to slowly ride his manhood.
Her hands went over his broad shoulders, then her arms around his neck. His lips strayed to her jaw and to her throat as she panted for breath. She rolled her head back to grant him better access, his kisses leaving hot trails along her flushed skin. His hand came up to cup her breast, massaging and kneading as he ran his tongue along her neck.
Their quiet moans filled the room as the sensations gradually intensified each time she slid up and down, her moist loins tightening around him as she felt herself wanting more of it.
With a throaty groan, Alistair gently took hold of her waist and turned them over, carefully laying her upon her back once more. He then placed a gentle kiss to her lips and began to thrust into her a little faster, drawing a whimper out of her each time he hit her top.
He caressed her thigh as he continued to make love to her, every kiss and movement carrying the soothing tenderness she longed for. His lips brushed against her flushed cheeks, her fingers lacing through his hair as each time their hips met the jolts of pleasure grew stronger, pushing her closer and closer to her climax.
"Maker…" She choked out breathlessly, the sensations intensifying until she couldn't hold on any longer. She felt him hit her core one, two, three more times, and then she came crashing down with a weak cry, her insides pulsing and constricting around him, the increased pressure pulling him along with her.
He moaned loudly as he came, his throbbing member filling her womb with his warm seed as he continued to thrust into her, her womanhood greedily taking every drop as she whimpered with each intense wave of pleasure crashing over her.
He tenderly kissed her lips as he slowed to a stop, their climax slowly ebbing away as he softly traced the curve of her hip with his fingers.
She sighed tiredly as she returned his loving kisses, silently wishing that their time together had lasted forever.
xxxxxxx
Everil's eyes slowly opened when she felt something wet against her cheek, letting out a sleepy groan.
"Magnus..." She uttered as she gently scratched his ears.
He barked once in response.
She then groggily rolled over and reached towards the other side of the bed, her heart dropping upon finding it empty. With a dejected sigh she slowly sat up, bringing her sheets up to cover her bare chest as the cool breeze from the window touched her skin. She turned her head to her mabari, who nuzzled her arm with worried eyes.
"Don't worry, boy. I'm feeling better now," She said with a small smile.
A knock on the door then reached her ears, and she half expected it to be Alistair, but when it cracked open, Leliana's head poked through it. "Evy?"
Everil smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. "Hi Leliana. You may come in."
With a smile of her own, Leliana opened the door, carrying a bundle in her arms as she stepped in while Morrigan followed behind her.
"You seem to be feeling much better. You no longer look like one of the dead," The witch said with a small smirk, carrying a tray.
"I know you're the one who saved me," Everil said with a grateful nod of her head. "Thank you, Morrigan. I owe you one."
"Indeed, you do," She replied, placing the tray on her lap. "Here. I prepared this for you."
"What is it?" Everil uttered as she looked down at it with a frown, her nose lightly curling at the smell. The concoction had the appearance of porridge, only with an odd purple color and strange herbs mixed in it.
"You need not know. Just be silent and eat. It will help you regain your strength," Morrigan replied, folding her arms over her chest.
"Uhm… all right." She replied, picking up the spoon. She cautiously took a bite, the sour taste causing her to grimace in disgust.
Morrigan gave her a teasing grin. "Oh 'tis not so bad."
Meanwhile Leliana placed the bundle on the chair nearby, speaking softly as she untied the string around the paper used to wrap it. "We had your armor cleaned and repaired. You can get dressed when ready," She told her, turning to approach the bed. "By the way, I saw Alistair walk out of the room earlier. Are things… back to normal between the two of you?"
"Where is he?" Everil asked quietly, avoiding the question.
"He and Arl Eamon left the estate, ahead of us and the queen," Leliana replied with a troubled frown. "They said they had something to do and to meet them in the palace when you're ready."
Morrigan scoffed with a scowl. "He sleeps with you, then sets out to marry another. How very considerate of him."
Not wanting to discuss the matter, Everil stared down at the bowl, absently chewing on the odd tasting contents.
xxxxxx
When Everil and her party arrived to the palace, they were led towards the chamber where the Landsmeet was to take place. She opened the large double doors, interrupting the bickering nobles within as she stepped inside with her head held high. They all gazed down from the balcony above, some with surprised looks on their faces upon recognizing who she was.
"Is that Bryce's youngest?" A woman whispered to another. "Maker, I thought she was dead."
"So it's true she killed Howe," The other replied.
The same woman scowled. "I say the bastard deserved it…"
Arl Eamon and Alistair stood ahead, turning to them as they approached.
Her eyes met his, noticing the concern within them as his hands closed into fists at his sides. She gave him a small smile despite the pain in her heart, then shifted her attention to the arl as he politely spoke.
"I'm pleased to see you are well again, Lady Everil."
"Thanks, my lord," She replied with a tip of her head.
"It appears both criminals are in the room now."
They all looked towards Loghain as he walked in from the opposite side of the chamber. His cold eyes moved from Alistair, to her and then to Eamon as he stopped mere steps from them, crossing his arms. "You're a fool if you think you can place a puppet on the throne, Eamon. I will never allow it."
Alistair's eyes narrowed.
"Alistair is Maric's son. As the Prince, he has the right to the throne by blood," Eamon repeated to him calmly, loud enough for all in the room to hear.
"Maric's blood may course through his veins, but the boy lacks the knowledge and experience required to rule a country," Loghain replied as he looked up at the nobles. "This country requires a knowledgeable ruler, now more than ever. I can lead you to victory, as I did alongside Maric when we cast the Orlesians out of our lands thirty years ago."
"Your experience was never questioned, Teyrn Loghain. Your motivations however…" One of the nobles uttered uncomfortably.
"You left my nephew to die in Ostagar," Eamon said, his voice carrying a hint of anger as he cast his piercing gaze upon him. "You betrayed his trust and took your men out of the battlefield when you could have at least saved his life."
"Cailan's blind faith in legends was what caused his demise. The Grey Wardens filled his head with fantasies and lured him towards his doom. If anyone should be blamed and executed for his death, it should be the two who stand before you," Loghain retorted, gesturing towards Everil and Alistair. He then glared heatedly at the arl. "Eamon, your old age is affecting your reason. Perhaps you should have stayed in Redcliffe and left Ferelden's problems to me."
"Is that why you tried to kill him? To keep him out of the way."
They all turned to Everil, whose fierce gaze was upon him. She continued. "You sent a desperate malefecar to poison Arl Eamon, nearly killing him and his entire family in the process. And not only that, but you had the templar hunting him imprisoned in order to keep him from ruining your plans."
Loghain's eyes narrowed. "You have no proof of that, Warden."
"I do, actually." Everil produced the ring from her pocket, lifting it for all to see.
Alftanna gasped from above, leaning over the railing. "That… That's my brother's signet ring!"
"Yes it is," Everil said and then tossed the piece of jewelry up at her.
She caught it, her hands shaking as she gazed down at the familiar symbol etched upon the specially crafted ring. "I… I had this made for him before he left to join the templars."
"I recognized your family's coat of arms and knew one of you would be here today," Everil told her from below. "Your brother died after having been deprived of lyrium for too long. He was delirious when he asked me to give that to you. I am sorry you had to find out this way."
"Thank you… Lady Everil." She said, her hands closing around the pendant before she cast an enraged look upon Loghain. "You bastard!"
"Teyrn Loghain." Denerim's Revered Mother regarded him with outraged eyes, her hand gripping the railing. "You interfered with a templar's sacred duties! The Chantry will not forgive such insolent transgression against the Maker!"
"If I must pay for anything I have done, then I will do so when I face the Maker himself!" Loghain said with a dignified tilt in his chin. "All I have done thus far was to secure Ferelden's independence! To protect us from those who seek to invade our nation and enslave our people!" He then turned to Everil. "So tell us, Warden! How much are they paying you to do this! How much is Fereldan honor worth these days!"
Everil scowled. "Orlais is not the threat here! The Blight is!"
"The great many refugees in my lands can attest to that," Alftanna said with a cold look to Loghain.
"And you're suddenly against slavery? Whatever happened to the elves you sold, Loghain?" Everil asked him, crossing her arms. "Is it only right when you are the one enslaving others?"
Outraged whispers were heard in the room while Arl Eamon and Alistair simply watched her, listening to her as she took control of the Landsmeet.
"I will not deny that. The elves would have no way of surviving once the Blight reached Denerim. I was attempting to save their lives," Loghain uttered, trying to explain as the nobles scrutinized his every word.
"Selling them into slavery… you might as well sentence them to death yourself. Unforgivable!" A man said from above, giving him a disapproving look.
"This is why I stand here now and not you," Loghain shot back, glaring up at him. "None of you have what it takes to make the difficult decisions! Instead, you would point the blame and complain while others do the dirty work for you! And unlike any of you, I would do anything for this country!" He gazed angrily around the room. "Who was it that fought for you when the orlesians trampled your fields and raped your wives! Who freed this nation as the blood and sweat of my soldiers soaked the battlefield! None of you have the right to judge me! I gave up more for this nation than any of you ever would!"
Everil scoffed. "You speak of loyalty to Ferelden and yet you held your own daughter captive."
Gasps filled the room, followed by words of concern.
"The queen?""
"He would do such a thing to our queen?"
Loghain's hands closed into fists. "You dare spew such lies!"
"They are not lies."
They turned their attention towards the back of the chamber as Anora stepped inside, a frigid look upon her eyes.
Her father was stunned into silence, color draining from his face as he watched her descend the steps towards them.
"The Warden speaks the truth. My father had me captured in order to keep me from meddling in his affairs," She continued, regarding the nobles with a confident smile. "He is no longer the man you once knew."
"Anora… I was trying to protect you," He said with dismay.
"Regardless, I am Ferelden's queen. You had no right to deprive me of my ability to rule," She replied coolly, and then turned her eyes back to the other nobles. "What you heard here today has shown you my father no longer has what is necessary to lead. As queen, I support the decision to make Prince Alistair the new king."
"Anora…" Loghain frowned, unable to understand why his daughter was standing against him.
The nobles exchanged looks.
"The queen thinks the Prince is suited?"
"Then perhaps he is…"
"I believe I have heard enough of these atrocities… I say we cast our vote now and make a decision," Eamon said as he clasped his hands behind his back, looking around the room. "What say you? Who shall take the throne and lead Ferelden through these desperate times and beyond? Should it be the man with questionable judgment or the rightful heir to the throne?"
"Most of you know who I am, therefore you know I speak with conviction when I tell you this: Blood is not the only reason Alistair should be king," Everil said her eyes upon every noble in the room. "He has witnessed the struggles of our people and has fought dutifully against the Blight to preserve their future. This man has the courage to protect Ferelden and its people. Place your trust in him and I promise you will not regret it."
In a heartbeat, Alfstanna raised her hand. "The Prince should be our new King! Loghain is not trustworthy!"
Bann Sighard raised his hand. "I vote for the Prince!"
One of the men glanced around. "I vote for Loghain. Only he can lead our forces against the Blight."
"Prince Alistair should be King!"
Alistair's eyes anxiously followed their voices as they cast their votes, a look of disbelief dawning upon his features as he heard his name be called above Loghain's.
The voting then stopped, and to Alistair's surprise, he had more votes than Loghain. He glanced over towards Everil, who was focusing her attention ahead, awaiting the announcement of their decision with her arms folded over her chest.
Without her, there would have been no way for him to win and earn their trust so quickly. So again, he owed everything to her.
Eamon stepped forth, his voice loud above the others. "It has been decided. Alistair shall be the new King of Ferelden."
"Unbelievable…" Loghain muttered in shock.
"But he shan't rule alone. A partner with political experience will ensure our king is prepared to undertake this task," Eamon continued, running a hand down his beard as he sent Alistair a brief glance.
Anora clasped her hands over her skirt, lifting her chin proudly. "I propose we arrange a marriage between he and I. My experience and reputation could prove invaluable to him."
Everil's shoulders tensed, her heart twisting at her words as her eyes trailed down to the floor.
One of the nobles spoke up. "I agree that such arrangement would place him in the best position to rule."
Eamon tipped his head in agreement, then turned his eyes towards Alistair. "What do you say, Alistair? Do you agree to marry the Queen?"
Anora frowned at the unexpected question. She had anticipated Eamon would make the decision for him in her favor, not that he would grant him the option to choose. Her hands gripped at her skirt as she gazed towards the soon to be king, nervously waiting for the answer. If he knew what was right for him and Ferelden, he would choose marriage.
Alistair gave Everil a brief look, but she was focusing her eyes on the ground, her fists closed tightly and her shoulders slumped. He took a step then, regarding the nobles with a confidence he didn't know he had as their voices died down, their attention upon him. "I humbly accept the crown, but I won't marry Anora."
Everil's head snapped towards him, her eyes wide.
Outraged, the queen glared at him. "What…?"
Alistair continued. "There is someone who fought beside me, risking her life and watching my back ever since our journey to save Ferelden began. Her leadership pulled our party through the worst of situations, and her kindness has helped many along the way."
Everil couldn't believe what she was hearing, her heart beating in her ears as she listened to him speak to everyone in the room.
"She's the woman I love and trust above all else…" He uttered, turning towards her to gently take her hand in his.
"Alistair…?" She breathed in disbelief.
"Everil Cousland... Will you marry me?" He asked, unfazed by the shocked looks on the faces of their onlookers.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and she had to will herself to keep her emotions in check. The fear of losing him to another woman had been so overwhelming it had become difficult to think clearly.
She drew in a breath and then spoke softly. "Yes…"
He gave her a tender smile as he brought her hand up to his lips, gently kissing it as his eyes gazed into hers.
"This is unacceptable, Arl Eamon," Anora said angrily, her eyes narrowing as the couple turned their attention to her. "The Couslands no longer hold a position of power, not since Howe took control of their lands."
"That is no longer accurate, your Majesty," Eamon said with a small smile. "It has recently come to my attention that Howe was killed by her in duel. As the sole survivor of the Cousland family, former owners of Highever, she has reclaimed her father's possessions, as well as reaffirmed her title as teyrna."
Anora glared at him. "Regardless, choosing her over me is ridiculous! We had a deal!"
"I will not deny Alistair the opportunity to marry the woman he loves," Eamon said as he shook his head. "Furthermore, by what we've seen today, Teyrn Bryce Cousland clearly taught her well. She would make an excellent queen, and she has the necessary political knowledge to help Alistair."
Anora pressed her lips into a line, her nails digging into her palms as her fists shook.
"I will not accept you as my King, Warden." Loghain's voice cut through the conversation as he reached for his blade. "I have sacrificed too much for this country to fall in your incompetent hands!"
Eamon's eyes darkened as he regarded the man with anger in his voice. "Your rash decisions have added to Ferelden's suffering as the Blight ravages the lands. Stand down, Loghain… for all our sakes."
"No," The veteran replied, his eyes then shifting towards Alistair. "And if he is truly a man worthy of respect, he will duel with me to the death."
"What?" Anora interjected worriedly. "But Father—"
"Quiet now, child," He gently commanded.
Alistair released Everil's hand, his sharp eyes upon him. "A duel huh? You murdered our friends in Ostagar, then hunted us like animals throughout Ferelden. I don't just want to duel you, I also want your head."
Loghain drew his blade. "Then it sounds like we have an agreement. Let us test the mantle of Maric's bastard son."
"Alistair," Everil gently grabbed his arm. Loghain was a veteran warrior, much more skilled in battle than him. One slip and he could die.
"I'll be fine," He uttered, drawing his sword as he stepped forward.
They began to circle each other, their eyes focused on the other's movements as those in the room watched anxiously. Anora's hand went up to her chest, her heart heavy with concern. She had seen Alistair fight and easily defeat her father's best soldier, and although Loghain had experience he was also much older. It was needless to say she feared for his life.
Loghain moved in first, bringing down his sword sideways. With a grunt, Alistair blocked the hit using his blade, the clash resounding in the room. They drew back and locked blades once more, staring each other down as their arms shook, trying to overpower each other.
Sparks flew as Loghain pushed down Alistair's sword, breaking the stalemate as the younger man was forced to dodge the blade that came down towards his shoulder. He sidestepped and stepped back as Loghain brought his sword up in a diagonal arch, narrowly missing him.
Alistair then quickly stepped forth, his sword in both hands as he brought it down with all his strength. The other man blocked as he grunted, his feet sliding back as his arms shook, his sharp blue eyes meeting the other's hazel ones. He then twisted his body, using Alistair's strength against him as he stumbled forward. Loghain then brought his arm around, his gauntlet connecting with his chin and sending him stumbling back before swinging his sword, forcing Alistair to lean back as the tip of his blade caught his face, leaving a gash along his cheekbone.
Alistair angrily wiped a thin streak of blood from his lip before charging, his sword ready. Their weapons connected again, then again, as they swung at each other repeatedly, their cries filling the room as the nobles gazed down worriedly from above. Suddenly Loghain took hold of his sword with his armored hand, pulling it aside as he lunged his sword forward towards his gut. Alistair quickly reacted by grabbing his with his own hand, just in time to avoid being ran through. He then kicked the man's stomach, pushing him off him while also knocking the air out of him.
He then swung his fist, striking Loghain across the face and causing him to let go of his blade while sending him to the floor. Just as Loghain made to stand, Alistair struck his face again, blood spraying the carpet beneath them.
"Father!" Anora cried as she ran forward, standing between the two of them. "That's enough!"
"Get out of my way..." Alistair uttered irritably, his grip on his blade tightening.
"I will not allow you to kill my father!" She bit out angrily.
A hand then grabbed her wrist, pulling her aside. "This doesn't concern you, Anora. You're being rude."
She gazed up worriedly at him. "But father…"
"Be a good girl and stand aside, my dear," He told her with a small smile, receiving a feeble nod in response. He then returned his attention to Alistair, whose hardened eyes were upon him.
Loghain spat out blood and picked up his sword, then beckoned with his hand. "Come, boy."
And he did, slashing down with his sword. Loghain struck at it, deflecting it to the side and kicking down at his feet. Alistair fell on his back with a huff, then rolled to avoid the man's sword as it came down, stabbing the floor instead. He rose to his feet and blocked a hit, then another, as Loghain continued his onslaught of attacks.
Loghain then let him swing, dodging his hit as he swung his sword sideways towards his now exposed side. Alistair moved quickly, using his pummel to deflect the man's blade as Loghain's eyes grew wide. Using his temporary loss of balance, Alistair then lunged his sword forth, piercing through his side as Loghain let out a painful cry.
"No!" Anora watched as Loghain fell to his knees while Alistair pulled his sword out of him, blood dripping upon the floor in its wake.
She made to run towards him, horror in her eyes.
"Stay back, Anora!" Her father's stern voice commanded, making her freeze on the spot.
"But you'll die!" She said bitterly.
"Then I would have deserved it," He said, his hand going to his bleeding wound as he gazed up towards his opponent. "I did terrible things. I must atone for them."
"No…" Anora's eyes turned to Alistair, who took a step towards her father. "Alistair, don't do it! My father was only trying to do what was best for Ferelden!"
Alistair's piercing eyes to her. "By killing the Grey Wardens and using people's lives to get his way? Everyone thinks they know what is best, but that doesn't make their actions any better."
Her pleading eyes then turned to Everil, who was watching intently from the sidelines. "Then please take my father into the Grey Wardens. He could-"
"Absolutely not," Alistair sharply said, his attention back down towards the man who took it all from him. "He doesn't deserve that honor."
"Enough. This is how it has to be done." Loghain swallowed, looking up at Alistair with a resolute expression. "You fought well, boy. Maric would have been proud… Now it remains to be seen if you will become the King the people of Ferelden deserve."
Alistair raised his blade, his unwavering gaze upon him. "I may not know everything about ruling a country, but I know this much: I will never betray their trust in me, and I will do my best to protect them, even from others like you. You have my word on that."
Loghain let a corner of his lip go up. "Well said…"
Anora ran forth as his sword descended upon him, her father's blood spraying over her as his severed head rolled upon the floor.
"Father!" She dropped on her knees beside him, her shaking hands hovering over his body as tears welled up in her eyes.
Eamon sadly shook his head, turning his eyes away from the quivering woman as Alistair sheathed his sword. He watched him calmly walk towards Everil, his solemn expression hiding any feelings currently coursing through him. It was hard to believe he was the same boy he raised all those years ago, the same child who once ran through the halls with a toothless grin.
For the first time since seeing him again, this boy looked like a man to him.
"Are you all right?" Everil asked softly, reaching up to the gash on his cheek.
He nodded. "I'm fine."
"Well done, Alistair," Eamon told him with a firm gaze, patting him on the shoulder. He then turned to the nobles. "With Loghain dead, Alistair is now King of Ferelden. Without marriage to the king, Queen Anora must relinquish the crown, along with all riches bestowed upon her under her rule. Neither she nor her children shall bear rights to the throne and will be unable to stake a claim to the crown henceforth."
"You bastard!"
They all turned to Anora as her hand wrapped around her father's sword, her enraged gaze turning towards Alistair as she pushed herself off the ground. She dashed towards him in a feat of anger and grief, letting out a cry as she raised her blade. But before she could reach him two soldiers blocked her path, pointing their weapons at her.
"Step aside!" She bit out, her tears blurring her vision.
The soldiers stood their ground, while one of them spoke, regarding her with a stern gaze. "Put down your weapon."
"I command you to step aside!" She tried to break through them, only to be held back by the arms as the two men grabbed hold of her. She struggled, glaring heatedly at the one who killed her father as her tears continued to flow down her flushed cheeks.
The soldiers then looked to their new king. "What shall we do, your Majesty?"
His brow furrowed, the honorific sounding strange to his ears. He glanced towards Anora, her anguished eyes meeting his. Despite utterly disliking the woman, he had just killed her father before her eyes, something he knew she would despise him for until the end of her days.
Sympathy flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an uncaring look. "Put her in the dungeon. If I die during our battle against the Blight, she can have her crown back. Otherwise, we'll see..."
"No! Let go of me!" She cried out, kicking the air as she was dragged out of the room by the guards. "You will pay for this, Alistair! I swear to you!"
They all watched her as she was taken away, some shaking their heads, while others covered their mouths in shock at the woman's behavior.
A hand on his arm made Alistair turn his head down towards Everil, seeing the gentle smile on her lips. "You should rally the nobles now. We have much to do."
"Right," He replied with a nod.
He stepped towards the center of the room and looked up towards them, a confident look in his eyes as he spoke. "Everyone. I didn't come only to bring our country together, but to seek your help against a much greater enemy. I'm sure you already know the Blight is heading towards us, destroying everything in its wake. We have to do something to stop it fast or Ferelden will be lost."
"What do you need us to do, your Highness?" Eamon asked firmly, his booming voice reaching everyone's ears.
"Everil and I have already gathered the aid of the elves, dwarves and mages. But we still need you," He said, his unwavering voice resounding through the room. "I need your soldiers, your resources, anything you can spare to help us in this grueling war."
"The darkspawn are relentless. Are you sure we can defeat them, your Majesty?" One of the nobles asked, concern creasing his brow.
"I won't lie to you. Battling the darkspawn horde and reaching the archdemon won't be easy." His eyes shifted from him to the others. "But if there is anything we have learned from past Blights, it's that we can defeat it by battling it together!"
"What say you?" Everil called, walking to stand beside him. "Will you stand with us against the darkspawn?"
"I say we join the King against the Blight!" Another noble said, rising his fist.
Another raised their voice. "Let's cast those monsters out of our lands and back to depths where where they belong!"
Soon all in the room joined in, courageously voicing their support towards their new ruler. Everil quietly gazed up at Alistair's profile, admiring just how strong he truly was.
xxxxxxx
After leaving the chamber, Everil met with her party while Alistair and Arl Eamon remained to discuss how to proceed with the gathering of soldiers and resources. Things had turned out much better than she expected, which was odd considering their horrid luck throughout their journey. At the same time victory felt short lived, considering they were soon about to face the Blight head on.
"By the Maker… So not only did Alistair become King, but also your betrothed?" Leliana asked in bewilderment after having been listening from outside.
Oghren let out a gruff laugh. "Talk about lucky... Who knew the pretty boy had it in him?"
"I am glad everything turned out well. I was worried about you two," Wynne said with a gentle smile.
"What's important is we have obtained the resources we needed to battle the Blight," Everil told them, trying to suppress her happiness by bringing the conversation back to their original mission.
"'Tis about time," Morrigan scoffed with folded arms, turning her eyes away from her.
The door behind them opened as Alistair stepped into the room, letting out a breath of relief upon leaving the nobles to talk amongst themselves.
"Regretting it already, your Highness?" Zevran uttered with a snicker.
Alistair gave him an irritated look before walking up to Everil, placing a hand upon the small of her back as he spoke. "Would you guys give us a moment?"
"Of course," Wynne replied, motioning for the others to leave the room. "Come all of you."
"Just make sure you don't get caught doing it…" Oghren said with a smirk as he passed them by, Leliana shaking her head as they walked out the door.
Everil gazed up at him as he stepped up to stand before her, his hands on her arms as he cast an apologetic look upon her. "I'm sorry I left like that this morning."
She smiled lightly. "No harm done… you more than made up for it. How did you pull this off?"
"I had a long conversation with Arl Eamon. I told him what happened at Howe's estate. That Anora tried to get us killed... that you defeated Howe… everything." He reached up to gently stroke her cheek. "I stood up to him and told him I wouldn't marry the queen because you were the one I loved. And in the end… he understood. Turns out all I had to do was be honest with him."
She frowned. "Why didn't you just tell me about your plan before you left?"
"Anora just seemed to be the type of person who would have ears everywhere. I didn't want to risk her finding out and then turn against us during the Landsmeet."
"Is that why you and Arl Eamon left so early? So you could speak to him in private?"
He nodded. "That's right."
She smiled. "Smart move."
"Thanks!" He grinned, then his smile softened. "Though that wasn't the only reason… I also had to stop somewhere on the way here."
He took her left hand and began to gently pull on her glove, sliding it off as she gave him a puzzled look. He then held her glove with his teeth, still holding her hand as he reached into his breast pocket, producing a gold band with a single, small diamond upon it.
Her eyes widened as he carefully slid the ring onto her delicate finger, the simplicity of it making it even more mesmerizing to her eyes.
After fulfilling his task, he took her glove from his mouth and smiled. "That makes it official."
"Alistair…" She whispered, tears welling up in her eyes as she smiled down at her hand.
He frowned with concern. "What's wrong? You don't like it?"
"Are you kidding? It's beautiful!" She smiled up at him through tearful eyes, then threw her arms around his neck, unable to contain her joy any longer.
He wrapped his arms around her, nearly lifting her off the ground as he held her tightly against him.
He gently nuzzled her hair. "I love you."
"I love you too…" She whispered, grabbing onto his tunic as a quiet sob escaped her lips.
For the first time since it all began, she felt truly happy.