Dragon Age
The Rose of Highever
A/N: So far, mostly we've seen Samantha when she's around Alistair, when she allows herself to be stripped down to the core of who she really is – a sheltered but fiercely protective and loving young woman with a slightly mischievous side. In part three, from now on, you'll start to see a different side of her a bit more often when things start to hit the fan.
Before anyone gets on my case, if Arl = Earl in England, both Alistair and Samantha use the correct forms of address when they talk to Eamon (at least according to wikipedia). Samantha is more formal because she's a Cousland, she's been trained since birth. Also, for all the Anora fans out there, that tiny comment where Alistair compares Anora to Samantha is just his opinion. Whether it's because beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or love is blind, or he wants to get on Cousland's good side (or get in Cousland's pants), whichever the reason, take your pick. Last but not least, if you've played through Alistair romance, you might recognize a few of his lines in here are taken from another famous scene. Does that mean I'm not doing that scene, just like I skipped the famous "have you ever licked a lamppost in winter" bit because it didn't fit into the characterization? Maybe. But don't freak out and hate me yet. Find out more next time.
I've to say I'm completely floored by your kind words, to say the least, and very very glad that tiny things like changing in relationship dynamics in every chapter is being picked up by at least one of you! I love subtly and dropping tiny hints here and there, but sometimes it tends to fly over people's head. It makes me positively giddy to know some hints are being picked up. Age wise, according to David Gaider, Alistair is around 20-21 when the game starts. So he's that age in this story. Samantha is 19 when the story begins. As for sequel... I can't say. I really can't. Sorry! :(
Chapter Twenty One: Stand By Me
The miracle of the Sacred Ashes was something Samantha would never have truly believed in had she not seen it in person. A priest chanted as he sprinkled a pinch of the ashes over Arl Eamon's body. It felt more morbid than magical to Samantha, especially when it was her who had acquired the ashes from the Sacred Urn. It was not just random dust; it truly was some burned up remains of a human body. Samantha diverted her attention from that rather disturbing idea to quickly glance over at the arlessa. The normally fiery Orlesian lady now hung her head low, humbly and feverishly praying underneath her breath for a miracle to be granted upon her unconscious husband. Samantha couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards her. If Alistair were to fall ill, to what length she would go to find a cure for him? Deep down, she knew the answer: there was nothing she wouldn't do to save him. To feel so strongly about another person, that their well-being mattered more than anything, it was something Samantha could never understand until now. That intensive feeling that had scared her to no end just a few weeks ago during their visit to Goldanna's bothered her no longer. Instead, it felt right to her, as if it was embedded in her instinct to protect him and to love him. Samantha was almost certain Isolde felt the same way for her husband. Looking back at the priest and his ritual, the use of ashes and prayers didn't seem as morbid and desperate all of a sudden.
Alistair was quiet but restless. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, anxiously clutching his fists tight during the ceremony. Samantha took a step closer to stand by him and reached for his hand, offering her silent support as they waiting for the miracle to happen.
And it did.
At long last, the arl stirred and struggled to open his eyes as if he had just woken up from a long nightmare. The arlessa and Bann Teagan rushed to the arl's bedside, but Alistair remained still, watching like an outsider he had always been. A slow grin appeared on his face as he released a deep sigh of relief, his tensed shoulders slumped as though unseen heavy weight had been lifted off. With a knowing smile, Samantha gently nudged him towards the arl, encouraging him to join the bedside reunion. Instead of taking her advice, he pulled her in for a hug.
"Thank the Maker! Thank you!" he whispered as he dipped her head down to rest on her shoulder, tightening his arms around her.
"Give yourself some credits. We did it together," she reminded him with a soothing pat on the back of his head.
He released his grip on her when they heard the arl spoke.
"Teagan? What are you doing here? Where is Isolde?"
"I am here, my husband."
"And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son?"
"He lives, though many others are dead," said Isolde with her voice full of regrets.
"Dead? Then... it was not a dream?"
"I'm afraid not," said Teagan. "Connor lives thanks to Alistair and Lady Cousland."
"Alistair?" Eamon struggled to look over his wife's shoulder.
Samantha put a hand on Alistair's back and push him forward.
"My lord," Alistair greeted awkwardly.
"Alistair! It's you!" The arl looked him over a few times as if in disbelief that the once skinny little boy had grown into this tall young man. "And you said... Cousland, Teagan?"
"Samantha Cousland, your Lordship. Greetings." Samantha dipped into a proper curtesy as she joined Alistair's side.
"Samantha? Bryce's daughter? Why are you here?" the arl fired up a series of questions.
"Much has happened since you fell ill, Brother," informed Teagan. "Some of it will not be... easy for you to hear."
"Then tell me. I wish to hear all of it."
The fireplace in the great hall of Redcliffe castle crackled, providing much needed warmth for the four occupants in the room. Although still frail from his recent illness, Eamon insisted on hearing the bad news all at once. Teagan had no choice but to oblige, leaving no details behind.
"This is most troubling." The arl frowned gravely. "There is much to be done, that's true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much. Lady Samantha, first of all, my most sincere condolences. Teyrn Bryce and I had known each other for many years. He was an honorable man."
"Thank you, your Lordship. And please just call me Samantha."
"I see you have taken after your father. You have not only saved my life but kept my family safe as well. I am in your debt."
"I most certainly did not do it on my own. Alistair and my companions have been with me every step of the way."
"But it was your decision that has saved both Isolde and Connor," Teagan reminded her with a kind smile.
"It was 'our' decision, my lord," she corrected the bann with a glance at Alistair. She did bend the truth a bit; it was indeed her decision, yet the arl didn't have to know. Her message to Eamon was clear: Alistair had help him just as much as she did, and she would not let the bastard prince be ignored once again under this roof.
"I owe both of you a debt. Will you permit me to offer you a reward for your service?" asked the arl earnestly.
"Then allow me to be blunt, your Lordship, if I may." Samantha looked straight into Eamon's eyes, her face determined. "King Cailan had promised to send troops to Highever and bring Arl Howe to justice. With the king gone, I'll need to look for troops elsewhere to reclaim what rightfully belongs to the Couslands."
Eamon raised an eyebrow slightly at her bold request. "You wish to have me sent soldiers up to Highever as your reward?"
Samantha did not flinch under the arl's intense gaze. Instead, her back remained as straight as ever, her eyes met his, unwavering. "I know it is too much to ask right now, as we would also need your help to fight against the Blight. I only ask for you to honor King Cailan's promise after the Blight is settled. Fighting multiple wars simultaneously is insensible."
Samantha held her breath but kept her poise as she waited. After what seemed eternal to her, Eamon finally nodded in agreement. "Justice must be served, I agree. Teyrn Bryce was a good friend, it'd be my honor to help." Eamon's face softened as he regarded the youngest child of his late friend. "You are indeed your father's daughter."
A genuine smile of relief spread on her face and lit it up brightly. "Thank you, your Lordship."
"And you, Alistair? Will you allow me to offer you a reward?" asked Eamon as he looked proudly at his former charge.
"Er, me? I am just glad you are all right, my lord. There's no need for a reward or anything. But if you'd help Samantha, I'd really appreciate it."
Samantha pressed her lips tight to stiff a smile at his earnest and endearing request.
"Then at least allow me to declare you and those traveling with you champions of Redcliffe. You will always be a welcome guest within these halls."
Samantha tossed a glance at Alistair. She could not have been the only one who saw the irony of this situation.
"And for you, Alistair, a shield of the same make as those that have been given to our finest knight."
"T-thank you." Alistair was both surprised and pleased. It was as if he had finally given the recognition from the home that had abandoned him.
"We should speak of Loghain, Brother," said Bann Teagan. "There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery."
"Loghain instigated a civil war even though the darkspawns are on our very doorstep. Long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power."
"I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon." Teagan shook his head in disgust. "He is mad with ambition, I tell you."
"Mad indeed," the arl agreed. "Mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill myself and destroy my lands. Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped. What's more, we can scarcely afford to fight this war to its bitter end."
"But you can unite the nobility against Loghain, can't you?" asked Alistair hopefully.
"I could unite those opposing Loghain, yes. But not all oppose him. He has some very powerful allies."
Samantha silently agreed with the arl. She had seen enough throughout all the years in Highever and Denerim to learn one thing about nobility: nobles were all out for themselves. If Loghain was the clear winner, many of them would fall under his banner even if they weren't particularly friendly with him to start with. Samantha glanced over to Eamon and recognized the look on the arl's face – it's the similar look her father used to have when he had a plan on his mind. "What are you proposing, then?" she asked.
"We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn. I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king. But it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen."
Alistair... Samantha shot a look at Alistair, who was either in serious denial or selectively missed what Eamon had just said.
"Are you referring to Alistair, Brother? Are you certain?" asked Teagan.
She checked on the bastard prince again, this time his face turned pale. He could no longer ignore the discussion when his name had been announced loud and clear. Samantha took a step closer to him and discreetly held onto his hand to offer her support.
"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred."
She felt him squeezing her hand painfully tight. Stiffing a wince, Samantha decided to lend her support to the arl. "I think Alistair would make a fine king."
"Sammy!" He scowled harshly at her and shook off her hand as though it were hot coal.
"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."
"And what about me?" Alistair protested with a sneer. "Does anyone care what I want?"
"Alistair!" she hissed with a sharp jab of her elbow at his ribs to shut him up, yet it didn't get his attention as much as she'd like due to his thick armor. Fortunately her sharp glare completed the job. Resentment remained on his face, but at least he had not gone on with his rant.
"You have a responsibility, Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?" The arl's voice was gentle, but his tone was firm. Strangely, he reminded Samantha of her father.
"I..." He looked at the arl, then Samantha. Her glare had softened back to her supportive gaze and locked onto his momentarily. "But I... no, my lord," he conceded with a heavy sigh.
"I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another."
Alistair looked even more pale at that idea. Samantha briefly worried he would get sick right then and there.
"Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin. What say you to that, Samantha? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing."
Samantha blinked in surprise. "My blessing? Why do you need my blessing?"
"None of this would be possible without you. You led Alistair here, you saved my family and my life with the Urn of Sacred Ashes... It's your lead I follow," the arl claimed humbly.
"I am truly honored, your Lordship. But you are the arl of Redcliffe, the uncle of the late king, and I am... nobody."
"You are a Grey Warden and more importantly Teyrn Bryce's daughter. Your late father was beloved by many. I am credible enough figure in this nation to call the Landsmeet, but I hold no illusions that I could face Loghain without you. Surely, you see that."
Less than a year ago, sitting at the comfort of her own castle, Samantha would never have dreamed of the responsibilities that had been continuously dumped onto her shoulders. First, it was to reclaim Highever. Then, it was to defeat the Blight. And now, she had to dethrone a queen and her father to end a potential civil war. It was her turn to look pale, her turn to feel sick. Now she understood the terrible burdens Alistair was drowning underneath as the chosen successor to Cailan's throne. And to think she wasn't even asked to be king.
She turned to Alistair for support and found him studying her. The resentment on his face had long gone, replaced by sympathy. His face said it all, as loud and clear as though he'd voiced it: welcome to the club. Once again, they were both tossed on the same boat, shouldering the same responsibilities, walking on a path none of them truly wanted to but both had to thread.
It was all she needed to remind herself she was not alone in this crisis. Whether it was chopping the head of an archdemon, or dethroning a reigning queen, she would have Alistair by her side. Always. "You have my unconditional support to face Loghain, your Lordship. But what of the darkspawn?"
"Ferelden must stand united to defeat the darkspawn. A fractured nation will not defeat the Blight, even given my army and those gathered with your treaties. You still have allies to seek out to help us against the darkspawn. I can hold off traveling to Denerim until you are ready, but the Landsmeet is our only option."
Samantha nodded understandingly. She shared a look with Alistair and the two came to a silent agreement. "We shall proceed with your plan, then."
"It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet. In the meantime, I suggest you pursue the remainder of the Grey Warden treaties. We will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn horde."
"Surely the treaties can wait for a few days, my husband?" asked Lady Isolde as she appeared from a doorway. "Our friends must be tired from traveling all across Ferelden. Let them rest for a few days before sending them off again. At the very least, allow me to show my gratitude for saving my boy and my husband, Lady Samantha."
"That is most kind of you. But I did not do it alone." Samantha pointedly looked at Alistair to get to her point.
"Yes, of course. I have both you and Alistair to thank." The grateful smile on the arlessa's thin lips was genuine. "As my husband has said, both of you and your companions are always welcome in our home. You must stay and rest, I insist." She took both of Samantha's hands in hers earnestly. "Your rooms are readied. And dinner will be served in an hour. Now if you'd excuse me, I have to see to the preparation." Isolde gave her hands a pat before releasing them and retreated back to the dinning room.
"Well, you've heard my wife. She's a stubborn one." The arl shook his head rather affectionately. "I am glad we have a chance to spend a few days together before you take off again. Alistair, perhaps we can talk later tonight?"
Alistair seemed surprised by the request. "I- of course."
With Alistair following a step behind, Samantha threaded wearily to the guest room provided by the arlessa. The weight of her weapons suddenly became unbearable as both physical and mental fatigue kicked in. She began unbuckling the belts holding the sheaths before even entering the room and put her weapons on the top of the dresser as soon as she walked in.
Alistair closed the door behind him and followed her lead, unceremoniously dropping his sword and shield on the floor by the dresser. "Pinch me and tell me I'm not dreaming."
She shoot him a curious glance while taking off her gauntlets. "Why would you be dreaming?"
"Because it's my greatest fear coming true!"
"Calm down, Alistair."
"Calm down? You heard the arl. He wanted me to be king!"
"Yes, I was there. I heard him," Samantha confirmed patiently as she let her hair down and reached for the hairbrush on the dressing table. "But you've also heard him, if you don't take the throne, Loghain will. He has already made the claim for it."
"Anora has been queen for the past five years and things aren't that bad. I say dethrone Loghain and let Anora keep the crown."
She gave him a look through the reflection of the mirror as she brushed her hair. "Don't be so naïve. Have you forgotten about the bounties on our heads? Loghain has gone mad. He will seize the power and have us all killed even if Anora remains on the throne. Do you think she'd listen to her own father or the two of us? I know Anora. She's her father's daughter through and through. Nothing stands between her and her goal – at least that's what my mother used to say."
Alistair scowled at her reasoning. "But, Sammy... Have you seen me? Hello! I can't be king!"
Samantha let out a sigh of exasperation and put down the hairbrush, then turned and stepped right in front of him. Putting her hands on each side of his face, she pulled it down gently and forced him to look straight at her. "I've seen you, Alistair. Daily. For months now. And I daresay I have come to know you pretty well. You can be a good king. What determines a good king is not if he has been formally trained in court. It's here." She released one hand to place it over his heart. "You have the compassion, the fairness, and the humility to be a good king. All these, you can't learn from any trainings. It's in you. As for governing, you will get the best tutors money can buy to teach you everything you'll need to know. You're a fast learner, my dear, you will be fine. Didn't you enjoy the education in the chantry? Learning how to rule is nowhere as boring as studying chantry history. Oh, believe me, I have studied both subjects."
His face softened with each of her words. He looked almost convinced as he wrapped his arms around her back. "... You make it sound so easy."
"No, it's not going to be easy. You have to study hard, and you might have to make some unpleasant decisions. But I'm certain you can do it. There is no doubt in my mind that you can be a fine king. I have faith in you. Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you. I just don't trust myself."
"Well, I trust you. So that means you if trust me, you should trust yourself too." A loving smile lit up at him.
"You and your way with words... Why do I even bother arguing with you?" he complained with a smile then leaned forth for a tender kiss. "Perhaps we should put you on the throne instead. You are smarter than me, kinder than Loghain, prettier than Anora."
"You do know what you're suggesting is treason, right? We Couslands have sworn fealty. No, thank you. I'd be happy to claim back Highever. I made a promise to my father, and I intend to keep it."
Hazel eyes gazed tenderly at her then steeled with determination. "I will send troops up and claim it back for you as soon as I become king."
A proud smile curled up on her lips and broadened. "See? You sound like a king already. It's not so hard now, is it?"
That earned her another kiss. He broke off and stared at her for the longest time. "You know, every time I'm around you, I feel as if my head's about to explode. I-I can't think straight."
"Should I... step back?" she jested, vaguely gestured somewhere behind her.
"No, of course not." He chuckled and tightened his arms around her back just to prevent her from slipping away. "We sort of... stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you in between all the fighting and everything else." He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingered on her cheek a bit longer. "Here's the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you. Not ever."
She opened her mouth a few times, no words came out. It was one of the few times he rendered her speechless. Thankfully, he was patient enough to wait for her to compose her thoughts. "Neither can I... Being king doesn't mean things have to change between us, does it?"
"I don't know. I don't know the first thing about being king. But I know I'd like you to be there with me. If... if you're willing, and that you are not needed in Highever."
The reality of their post-Blight lives hit her like a stone wall. "The road between Denerim and Highever is not terribly far..."
"But we won't be able to see each other everyday, will we?"
She didn't want to lie, nor did she want to admit the truth. All she could do was to lower her gaze and avoid his eyes, just as she was avoiding the fact that what her heart wanted and what her duties called for might not always be the same thing.
"I can't to do this by myself, Sammy."
"You are not alone, Alistair." She glanced back at him, touching the side of his face. "I promise we'll see this through together."
"You mean the Blight. I'm talking about being king."
"You won't be alone on that either. You'll have advisers."
"But not you."
Her heart sank, but she forced a smile. "I will be there for you if you need me. Let's deal with the Blight first."
She was saved by the call for dinner. She led him out of the guest room with her hand hooked onto his arm, as she had done so many times long before either had confessed their feelings for each other. It was a simple gesture, one Samantha had somehow adapted to naturally without ever giving it a second thought, nor did Alistair ever complain about the physical closeness either. It was here, by his side, where she felt most comfortable. It simply felt right, standing by him, knowing that he would also stand by her no matter what. But where she truly belonged might not always be where she needed to be. Duties and obligations would always be attached to their names, just because one was a Cousland, the other was a Theirin.
"You should talk to the arl tonight," she gently reminded him. "We won't be here for more than a few days."
"Right. Still have to clear that up..."
"You'd feel better after talking to him."
"Let's hope so."
"Not everyone gets a second chance. Patch things up before you take the throne. He's likely to be your chancellor and you'd see him everyday."
A thought came to him and he lit up. "And if I wanted you to be my chancellor?"
She couldn't hold back an incredulous snort at that idea. "I don't think I am anywhere as qualified as the arl."
"Doesn't the king get to choose his own chancellor? Besides, even the arl said he'd follow your lead."
"That's hardly fair, is it? Just because we want to see each other everyday, you'd pick me over Arl Eamon as chancellor? That's not kingly," she chided half-seriously.
"Picking the teyrna of Highever over the arl of Redcliffe? I don't see anything wrong with that." He shrugged and glanced at her with his overly innocent pup face, knowing full well he could disarm her with that look.
And he did. She let out a sigh in defeat. "Let's just take it one step at a time, shall we?"
"It's only fair, you know. Maric had Loghain, I have you."
She shook her head with a roll of her blue eyes. "Yes. I am yours, your Majesty."
For the first time since he'd arrived at Redcliffe castle, he laughed. "I think I like the sound of that."
"Getting comfortable with the idea of being king, aren't we?"
"Hardly." He flashed a teasing grin. "I meant the first part."
She wrinkled her nose at him and lightly swatted his arm. Whatever happened after the Blight, she would deal with it in due time. She knew, at least right now, she was happy.