Chapter 25. Reacquaintance
The next morning Michael woke up late, feeling wonderful. He felt Anora's head resting on his chest and he burrowed his face in her tousled hair to savor her smell.
"Maker's mercy, I had forgot how warm you are," she murmured. "You're like a furnace."
"Do we even have to get out of bed today," Michael said contentedly.
"Yes we do," Anora replied with a smile. "We need to be in Court later and I'd rather we discussed things before.
"Can't we discuss things here then?" Michael complained.
"No, too many distractions."
"Distractions?"
"Yes," Anora murmured and let her hand that had rested on his belly, wander downwards.
"Oh, that!"
She giggled as he pushed her head away from his arm so he could turn and get on top of her.
Afterwards he laid happily beside Anora, almost dozing, with her back pressed against him. He couldn't resist cupping his hand around her delicious breast. She wiggled herself closer still to him. As their naked bodies touched each other in new places, he felt his desire rise again. His fingers on her breast became insistent.
"I'm no Warden, you know," she tried to complain. "I'll get sore if you keep it up like this."
Despite her attempts to protest, she moved herself to allow him access to other, even more intimate parts of her body. Soon they were locked in embrace again, until they were both spent and lay beside each other, panting.
Anora smiled to herself. It seemed that Michael's appetite for carnal pleasure was always greater than hers. Maybe it was that Grey Warden physique he jokingly told her about, but she really had longed for this during his long absence in Gwaren.
When they finally got up and dressed, Michael wanted to head straight to the palace kitchen. Breakfast had always been informal at Highever and he had picked up the habit again while alone in Gwaren. He didn't have the patience for a proper meal and preferred to have his breakfast in the kitchen and pick up some gossip from the servants.
He knew Anora was careful about keeping protocol though, so now he had to wait while the servants prepared a table in the dining hall. This was one of the things he disliked most about being Prince. That such a minor thing as breakfast would turn into a state occasion.
Finally everything was ready and they could sit down and eat. Anora watched him wolf down huge chunks of bread and ham, nibbling on a chicken wing.
"How can you eat so much?" Anora asked incredulously. "I know you spar a lot, but still…"
"I always had a hearty appetite, but being a Grey Warden made it worse. I'm told it's one of the side effects, I can't help it."
"It's not fair that you can eat so much and it doesn't show on you," she said jealously.
"Maybe I should tell Weisshaupt. Tell them to use it as a recruitment slogan."
Michael pretended to wince as she playfully slapped him.
"Finnish that now, you glutton," Anora said finally. "We have work to do."
The servants hurried to remove the remains of their breakfast as they left the dining hall and went back to their private quarters.
Michael followed Anora to her study. Anora had a large packet of correspondence from Orlais on her desk. She took the first letters and began to explain the contents to him. It was the usual mixture if gossip, politics and trade discussions the ambassador would send home. Michael asked questions and soon they were deep into a debate about their political stance towards Orlais and the Chantry.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I really missed this." Anora suddenly said and smiled at him.
"How can anyone miss Orlesian politics?" Michael asked frowning.
"No, not that you fool. I missed discussing things with you. I know I used to hate your incessant questioning, but I missed it when you weren't here."
Michael smiled and drew ger into his arms.
"I missed that part too, Buttercup," he sad.
Anora pouted. She still cringed inwardly whenever Michael used that horrible old nickname. She cursed her nanny for letting him discover it. But then he bent down and kissed the frown away from her face. Her arms slipped around him and the letters she'd been holding fell to the floor.
"Stop it please. We have work to do," she finally said, trying to catch her breath.
Michael smiled and reluctantly let her go. Then they both bent down to pick up the letters on the floor.
He saw a smaller pink envelope among the official documents and tried to pick it up, but Anora quickly snatched it before he could reach it.
"What was that?" he asked wondering.
Anora held the letter tightly. She looked tense and for a moment she didn't move irresolute. Then she swallowed and handed him the letter.
"It's for you," she said in a small voice. "It's from Orlais, from Leliana."
Michael got up slowly and frowned as he opened the letter. He immediately recognized Leliana's girlish hand writing. He had to smile as he read her description of what had happened since they had parted.
"What is she saying?" Anora asked, looking out the window, with her back towards him.
"She says she is in Val Royaux, with Zevran," Michael replied. "Here, do you want to read it yourself?"
Michael held the letter towards her. Anora glanced at it, but after a moment's hesitation she shook her head. She returned to stare out the window.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mention the letter right away," she said finally.
"Is this still about me and Leliana then?" Michael sighed.
"No, I don't doubt your feelings Michael. It's just…" her voice trailed off.
"I never had many friends Michael. Even as a child I kept mostly to myself. I remember one day when I was eight years old. My father had made one of his rare visits home and he had brought a gift for me. It was an enchanted glass ball.
It was just a simple enchanted bauble. It glowed with the colours of the rainbow, when sunlight touched it. But when I took it outside in the sun to watch, it seemed to hold all the wonders of magic to me.
"Father had brought many of his Bann's and knights to Gwaren for some important meeting. Some of them had brought their families and their children were outside playing in the courtyard. They saw me and they wanted to look at it."
"At first I was pleased with the attention, but then they wanted to hold it themselves. I refused, but they were crowding me and some of the older children got rowdy."
"I screamed at them, commanding them to go away, but they didn't listen. So I turned and ran back into the manor. I was scared and didn't want them to break my gift. I hid it in my cupboard and hardly ever brought it out to play with again. I didn't dare."
Anora turned to look at him.
"That's how I feel about you too, Michael," she said softly. "I love you and I trust you, but in the back of my head, I'm still scared that someone will come and break my gift. I... I can't help it."
Michael tenderly put his arms around her and she let her cheek rest against his shoulder.
"I don't break that easily Anora. Heroes of Ferelden are made of sterner stuff than that."
"I know," Anora said, smiling despite herself.
"My feelings for you won't change either. You are my wife and I love you."
Her embrace tightened around him.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Shall we get back to work then, dear?" Michael said smiling. "There are still a dozen Orlesian plots or two to uncover."
"You are right, husband," she said and brushed her lips against his. "Duty calls."
They returned to the pack of letters and discussions about Orlais. Time passed quickly as they were talking and they almost forgot about their other duties.
It was Anora who finally looked at the sun's position outside and decided it was time to discuss the upcoming Court, before they had to go there.
Anora started to brief him on the petitions that were awaiting them. The biggest issue was the grain deliveries to victims of the Blight. Last year had been a harsh year in Ferelden. The Blight had laid waste to much farmland and the crown had been forced to buy grain from Orlais to ensure that famine was kept to a minimum.
This year the harvest should be enough to fill all bellies, but not everywhere. In some areas the local lords had been prudent to save enough grain to be able to sow a healthy crop, but in other areas they had been more complacent and trusted in continued support in the future.
Anora had been adamant in refusing to spend what little gold the Crown still had after the Blight and the civil war, on bailing out those who had themselves to blame, but that had not been met without resistance.
Michael listened to her explanation nodding. Privately he would have prepared to make some small concessions as it was likely that innocent peasants would suffer for the mistakes of their lords, but he could tell that Anora had set her mind on this. She abhorred waste and inefficiency.
When Anora had finished her brief he waited a moment, before speaking himself.
"I have a suggestion I want you to hear. Traditionally we haven't enforced many rules against carrying arms here in Denerim. People in Ferelden value their independence, but I think that we can't just ignore the fact that someone tried to kill you in Gwaren. I want to enforce the old laws that no one except the royal guard are allowed to carry arms inside the Palace, when the monarch is there."
Anora frowned thoughtfully.
"It may upset some of the nobles, and I'm not sure that would stop a determined assassin," she said.
"At least it will be harder for disgruntled noblemen to attack you physically," Michael replied. He thought about Bann Esmerelle in Amaranthine, who had been allowed to carry her arms right into the heart of Vigil's Keep.
Anora regarded him carefully, and then nodded.
"I don't really see the need Michael, but matters of military and security is your domain. If you think it's for the best, I'm not going to oppose it."
Michael acknowledged her acceptance with a slight nod. It had always been understood between them that he would have military matters as his domain, but this question had many political implications. He was glad that she trusted him in this so readily.
Soon after a servant knocked on the door and announced that the Banns where waiting outside the throne room.
"Shall we, your Majesty?" Michael said and held out his hand towards her.
"Indeed, your Highness," Anora answered and smiling put her hand in his.
Together they walked down the corridor, towards the throne room.