Sleeping Arrangements

Chapter 21

"something you have to see"

Elissa watched Fort Drakon from the roof of Eamon's estate. The body of the Archdemon still laid there, with dozens of people frantically working around it. Its blood would be collected and given to the Wardens. Its scales and bones would be fashioned into fine armor or trophies, whichever fetched a higher market price. Someone had even asked Elissa if there was a particular body part she wished to keep for herself as a memento. She had swiftly declined the offer; that beast had haunted her for months, she did not want any leftover part of it anywhere near her. She then realized that must be why she had been sitting there watching for so long. She wanted to make sure it was gone.

She saw Alistair walking along the street below. He was accompanied by Eamon as well as other nobles, seneschals, servants, and guards. Elissa snorted to herself. Where were the guards when Darkspawn stormed their camp at night? Or when a bandit's arrow found itself lodged in their king's shoulder? Even her father's guards hadn't managed to… She shut her eyes tightly, willing away hot tears and wondering if she would always have this reaction when she thought of her family. After the surge of emotion passed she sighed. Guards couldn't protect against everything, but that was precisely why she was so happy when Zevran agreed to remain in Denerim. He could weed out betrayal from the shadows and keep Alistair safer than a clunky set of armor. She noted the familiar scent of fine leathers and wondered how long Zevran had been standing behind her. Turning halfway toward him she said, "Didn't I ask you to watch over Alistair?"

Letting out one of his little lighthearted laughs he settled in beside her on the stone roof. "Yes, and then he asked me to watch over you."

Elissa turned back to watching Alistair and his large group of followers. "Did you at least hear what they were talking about?"

" 'Why is that strange elf following us?' " Elissa shook her head at her friend's antics and he laughed again. "Truthfully, it was all quite dull. They're making note of what needs repairs. The other nobles are supposed to send their best craftsmen to help so the city will be in an acceptable state for the coronation."

Elissa bit her lip. "And when is that to be held?"

"All of the nobles from the Landsmeet are still here, and rumor has it the Grand Cleric has already left Val Royeaux. It shouldn't be more than a few days."

"Has Alistair said anything about it?"

Zevran shrugged. "He's never really confided in me. Something about me trying to kill him once… I don't exactly recall. I'm sure he'd speak to you, though." He nudged her slightly, but she only turned her gaze back to Fort Drakon. Zevran also took in the sight of the Archdemon. "They say Nevarrans hunt dragons for sport. Personally, I don't see the appeal."

"I'm surprised. Dragon hunters get all the glory, not to mention the ladies."

"Oh, don't get me wrong! I love ladies and glory, but there are so many more refined creatures to hunt. Dragons are so…" He stuck his tongue out and made a guttural noise, forcing Elissa to finally crack a smile.

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The talks of rebuilding Denerim continued on into dinner, which Alistair soon realized was no longer a time to relax and enjoy but instead to continue discussing politics in between stuffing your face. Sometimes it seemed less a discussion and more a debate as nobles bickered over whose lands suffered worse during the Blight, who had sent the most soldiers to help fight the Darkspawn, and whose family had supported the Grey Wardens for the longest. Alistair found he couldn't even enjoy the tantalizing meal before him and began to search the table, noting one missing face. "Where's El… Lady Cousland?" he asked a servant as she refilled his wine glass.

"She took her dinner in her room. Poor dear must be exhausted after all that's happened." The woman smiled warmly at him. "You must be too, but there's no rest for a king, now is there? If you like I could have a hot bath waiting for you after the meal." Alistair decided that she was officially his favorite servant and meant to get her name, but the dining room rooms suddenly boomed open with an exhausted courier appearing in the candlelight.

"What's the meaning of this?" Eamon exclaimed.

"I bring news," the courier panted, "for the king."

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Night had fallen on the city, but Elissa could still make out the unmistakable shape of a dragon lying dead on the nearby fort as she looked through the window in her room. Eamon had graciously offered continued residence at his home to she and Alistair until the palace was repaired enough. She sat on an ornate bed with soft sheets in a beautiful room, but couldn't wait until she was allowed to leave. Eamon's estate held too many bad memories that she couldn't move past until she had a new place to rest her head, just like she knew she wouldn't stop thinking about the feeling of absolute terror the Archdemon's sight had caused her until its body was completely removed. A loud knock on the door pulled her from these thoughts and Alistair called out to her. "Elissa!"

She leapt to open it and as soon as she did Alistair grabbed her wrist and started pulling her away. "I don't want to have dinner with the nobles," she protested, yanking her wrist back. "I promise I will, just… not tonight."

"It's not that," he said earnestly. "There's something you have to see."

"Can't it wait?" She leaned against the door frame tiredly.

Alistair grabbed her hand again, gentler this time. "Trust me, you wouldn't want it to."

She finally complied and walked with him down to the main hall, where the nobles were clustered about and spoke in hushed voices. "Alistair?" she asked, starting to get nervous. They stopped in front a dense huddle of men and he smiled down at her. "Alistair, what did you do?"

He shook his head, but continued smiling. "I wish I could say I had anything to do with it. I just wanted to be here to see the look on your face."

She frowned, still not understanding what was happening. Alistair gestured toward the group, which instantly parted, revealing a man sitting in the middle. He was bloodied and bruised, caked in a thick layer of dirt, with the hair of a wild man and a beard that betrayed how long he'd been away from civilization, but Elissa would know that man anywhere. "Fergus!"