The Dragon Age series belongs to Bioware and Electronic Arts.
Alistair's kiss left Rhyann with all sorts of confusion in the week that followed. No matter how she tried to rationalize it, thoughts remained about how wrong it was that she enjoyed it. Logical thought told her that harboring feelings for a married man—the ruler of the country to boot—was a bad idea. If Anora found out…Rhyann didn't want to even think about that possibility. And, there was what all of the other elves would say. Surely, they would call her flat-ears and ostracize her for even thinking of a human like that. Still, when she would think on it, the softness of his lips, or the way he looked at her with longing instead of pity, her stomach went up in knots.
The knots came to Rhyann again the morning the Wardens were due to come and get her. She lay in bed, thinking of Alistair. Her things had yet to be packed, but there wasn't much she really wanted to bring. Likewise, she wasn't properly dressed. There was the familiar buzzing at the edge of her senses, which grew steadily with every moment. It was probably Lyna coming to tug her out of bed and take her back to Amaranthine. Rhyann didn't move, though. The commander would, hopefully, understand that she needed a few more minutes.
Seconds went on and the sensation grew. It wove up the staircase. Maneuvered down the hall of guest wing until it reached the stairs that led to the part of the estate that belonged to the Tabris family. The tickling climbed the second flight of stairs a little quicker than the first. Down the hall. To the other side of her door when she could practically here the sensation buzzing in her ears. Then, a knock.
"Come in." Instructed the elf.
With a creak, the door opened. Rhyann sat up in bed, expecting to watch as Lyna walked in, outfitted in heavy furs and demanding her to get dressed so they could get back to the Keep. Who entered wasn't Lyna, though. Alistair was standing at the foot of her bed, smiling with a goofy sort of jubilation.
"I'm not interrupting something, am I?" He asked.
Mortified, Rhyann quickly pulled the covers up to her neck in order to conceal her nightclothes. If it had been Lyna, she wouldn't have cared. But, it was Alistair. The situation was entirely different. "Don't look!" She begged. "I'm not dressed yet!"
"I'm sure you're covered enough. It looked as though you were wearing a full-length nightgown to me." He shrugged. "But if you want, I'll turn my back to you so I can't see."
Rhyann eased up in the bed. "It's fine." She admitted, getting up. "I just wasn't expecting to see you today and overreacted." As a precaution, the elf shut her bedroom door. The last thing the both of them needed was for someone to know that the King was in her chambers with her. Rumors would spark and it wouldn't bode well for either of them.
"I didn't think I'd be here either, but I couldn't get the other day out of my head." Alistair tried to hide his embarrassment by staring at his feet. It didn't really work well for him. "I knew you would be going back to Amaranthine soon and I wanted to see you before you left. I just wanted to hear and see you one last time." He paused and laughed to himself. "Wow, that sounded much less creepy in my head."
"I didn't think it sounded creepy." Admitted Rhyann with a slight smile. "It was sweet."
"You're reassuring when I think I sound stupid." Hummed the man fondly.
Alistair smiled, his cheeks becoming rosy in the process. His eyes positively twinkled when they danced over her. Rhyann could feel the heat rising to her own cheeks as well. She smiled back, unsure of how to respond to that last statement. Talking to men wasn't her strong suit, especially ones that she found strangely charming and boyishly handsome. He picked up on her inabilities, though, and begun to move closer. It took two strides from him to close the gap between them. Alistair reached out for her somewhat shyly, ready to draw her in for a chaste kiss.
Rhyann held up her hands and pressed them into his chest to prevent that. As much as she wanted to savor his kiss once again, the issue with his wife weighed heavily on her. It wasn't right for her to pursue a married man, even if they truly cared for one another. "Alistair, we shouldn't." She protested.
"Why not?" Inquired Alistair pleadingly. "Did I say something that upset you? I really didn't mean—"
"—It's not like that." Rhyann fussed with her nightgown nervously. "I really do like you, don't get me wrong. It's just…you're married, Alistair. I know you didn't exactly want to marry Anora, but it wouldn't be good for you to get caught up in a cheating scandal. Especially with an elf."
"I don't care that you're an elf—to the Void with anyone who does!" There was a hint of hostility in Alistair's tone as he spoke. Rhyann knew that it wasn't directed at her, but it rattled her nonetheless. In one motion, he took both of her cheeks in his hands. They were nose-to-nose, staring into one another's eyes. The almost-golden tones of his nearly made her melt. "I know that the situation with Anora is awkward." He chuckled once. "Believe me; I'm the one who has to live with her. But please, trust me when I say that I will find a way to make this—whatever it is—work. I'll…I'll talk with her. Maybe she'll agree that me possibly seeing another woman will be beneficial for the already-fragile sham of a marriage we have. She can't stand me anyway, so it would be in her best interest to agree to something that will keep me out of her hair."
"Do you really think she'll agree to that?" Asked Rhyann hopefully.
"I have no idea."
Alistair leaned in once again, a bit bolder than before. Even if Rhyann wanted to evade him, there was no possible way. He had her back pressed into the armoire. She could scarcely move and yet that didn't bother her. The elf leaned in as a means to accept the kiss. Her eyes shut instinctively as her hands found his chest. When their lips met, the girl couldn't help but think that his were sweeter than she recalled. Perhaps it was just her fondness for him altering her memory. It didn't matter either way. One of his hands dwindled down to her waist where he gripped her tightly and raked her in. From there, she could feel his warmth cascading across her skin just as much as the furs he was wearing tickled her.
During the time of their embrace, the chamber door opened once again. There was a familiar tickling at Rhyann's senses, but she was far too occupied to notice until she heard footsteps entering. Her and Alistair parted quickly, trying to play their affection off coolly, but, it was too late. They were caught.
Lyna stared at them in shock and awe. She blinked twice, her eyes wider than they had ever been before. Her mouth was slightly ajar, which she remedied quickly.
"What was going on in here?"
"Nothing." Squeaked Alistair, his voice shooting up a decibel. "I…I don't know what you're talking about, Lyna. Can't two friends be alone in a room together without people assuming that they're up to something suspicious?"
"Whatever you say, Al." Lyna elected not to press the issue, which warranted a much-needed sigh of relief from the both of them. Rhyann wasn't entirely sure that the Dalish woman even saw the abrupt intimacy they were sharing. Even so, she didn't like the idea of being put on the spot, specifically so when she didn't even know where her relationship with the man stood.
"Since you're here Alistair, I'd like to have a word with you. Privately." Said Lyna.
Alistair folded his arms over his chest, his thick furs shifting in the process. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Rhyann." He huffed, seemingly frustrated with being interrupted. "We're all friends and adults here."
Lyna shrugged. "Fine. She was bound to hear about it anyway. It's about the people conspiring to assassinate me I've been telling you about. I think they may be targeting you as well."
The air went still around the three of them. Alistair's arms dropped down to his sides and hung listlessly at his sides. Rhyann also tensed up. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting him dead. Neither of them, really. Politics were so confusing and deadly; she wanted nothing to do with it all.
"Maker's breath, Lyna." Cursed the man. He rubbed his temples agitatedly. "How did you hear about this? Do you even have proof?"
"My sources are to be trusted, you can rest assured." Lyna sat down at the foot of the bed. She fell silent, considering her words carefully. Walls had ears, even in the safety of the Tabris estate. "One of my Wardens and me had heard whisperings at the Fealty ball. I have Zevran and Leliana looking into the issue for me and they've recently uncovered some information that paints you as a potential target as well." She sighed heavily. "I just wanted to warn you; you're one of my dearest friends and I would be devastated if something happened to you and I had knowledge about it the whole time."
In his stupor, Alistair sat down on the bed next to Lyna. He rested his elbows on his knees and cupped his chin in his hands. "This is—thank you, of course, but…I suppose I should have expected this sort of thing at least once during my reign. I didn't think it would be so soon in."
"I'm sorry." The Dalish woman put a hand to his forearm in order to comfort him. Rhyann could see that this was a terrible burden on both of them. It made her feel bad that she didn't know how to console them about it. "As I said, though, we're looking into it. Hopefully, we'll have everything taken care of before any serious damage is done."
Lyna rose off the bed and ran her hands along her clothes to smooth out all of the wrinkles. She headed towards the door and opened it, refraining from heading out just yet. "We should let Rhyann get changed now, Al. Daylight is burning and we need to get to Amaranthine."
Both Lyna and Alistair left her room, leaving Rhyann alone. She dressed quickly, discarding her dirty nightclothes onto the bed. Normally, she practiced much more discretion about making a mess, but her mind was elsewhere. The talk of the possibility that either of them could be assassinated didn't sit well with the elf. But, she also knew that she was powerless to do anything.
Done dwelling on things she couldn't change, Rhyann packed a small satchel and headed down to the entry hall. Lyna was waiting for her, looking rather bored. Alistair was present as well, but he appeared to be leaving even before they were. They acknowledged as the girl entered, their heads turning curiously to her direction.
"Well, it was good seeing you again, Lyna." Stated Alistair simply with a nod. The Dalish woman nodded back in response. "We should make it a habit to get together more often; all of you are in Amaranthine and I'm in Denerim by myself." Alistair walked to the door, the sound of his boots tapping against the stone floor echoed through the room loudly. "It was good seeing you too, Rhyann." There was a double meaning hidden amongst his words, one only for Rhyann. Despite a lack of experience, she managed to pick up on it.
As he opened the door to leave, his eyes locked on with the girl's. Rhyann's heart skipped a beat. The briefest of smiles was cast her way before he disappeared into Denerim, leaving her feeling both giddy and forlorn at the same time. She hadn't the foggiest of ideas where this thing between them was going, but she was hoping with time it would become clear.
Before Lyna and Rhyann managed to leave themselves, Cyrion came to say goodbye to them as well. Unlike previous times, she felt less uncomfortable saying goodbye. Denerim really wasn't her home anymore; it felt more than strange to be there. And, now that she remembered, living in the estate where her crimes were committed filled her with a great sense of discomfort. Rhyann really didn't want to be there longer than she had to.
Upon leaving, the women didn't dally in the city. The sun had already risen, and Lyna was hoping to make it to Amaranthine before it set again. Rhyann did too, if only because it meant warmer climates. Their trek took longer than the younger elf recalled. She blamed it on the cold, seeing as the weather had chilled even more since the last trip she made. It was far more tolerable than coming to Denerim to heal, however. Now that the limb was healed, Rhyann could move it as she pleased. Though, this was usually limited to pulling her furs around her body so that only her eyes were poking out. She likened this image to a scrawny bear cub, mainly as she assumed her furs were from a bear of some sort.
The two reached Amaranthine about two hours before dusk. They were both famished and couldn't wait until arriving at the Keep to eat something, so they stopped at The Crown and Lion for a meal. Lyna ordered for them both, which was well enough because Rhyann didn't know what they offered. Silence spread between the two of them while they waited for the tavern maid to bring them their meals. It was the awkward sort, one in which they both struggled to think of a subject to talk about, but everything seemed silly.
It was finally the Dalish woman who snapped them out of the strange predicament. As she rested back in her chair, feet pressed into the edge of the table they were sitting at, she looked at Rhyann wolfishly. The young city elf shivered at the expression; Lyna looked as though she would eat her whole.
"So, what's going on between you and Alistair?"
The sly request put Rhyann on-edge. She sank in her chair, wishing now more than ever that she could go invisible or teleport upon command. Staring, Lyna was waiting for a response. Rhyann knew better; if she remained silent, Lyna would just assume, which was often more detrimental than the truth.
"N—nothing." Stuttered the girl uncomfortably.
"Mm…hm." Hummed the woman in disbelief. "And that was exactly why he was in your chambers so early in the morning and the two of you were beet red when I entered. You would have to be blind to not notice something going on there."
Rhyann chewed on the inside of her cheek miserably. Her commander was far too observant to believe half-truths. She sucked in a sharp breath and buried her face in her arms. Anywhere sounded a better location than where she was. "I don't want to talk about it, Lyna." She groused, her voice muffled because of her arms. Having her romantic life coming under scrutiny was not what she had expected to happen.
"That's the thing, Rhyann. We have to talk about it, and not just because I'm a terrible gossip." Said Lyna. She rested back in her chair, balancing it on the back two legs as her eyes darted around the room in an effort to people watch. "Permitting there really is something going on—despite you vehemently denying it—you'll need to be discreet."
The tavern maid returned with two bowls of a bland-looking stew. It smelled meaty, and contained what looked to have once been bits of turnip, potato, and carrot. Rhyann could see the steam rising up between the gaps that her arms created in her 'shield'. She made no effort to move from her position, though. If she did, Lyna would surely be able to read her face and know the truth about the situation they were discussing.
Lyna, on the other hand, devoured the food. While Rhyann couldn't see it, she could hear the wooden spoon scraping against the edges of the bowl as her Dalish friend ate. "Alistair is a good man." Said the woman between spoonfuls. "You don't need me to list all of his good qualities because I'm sure you've noticed them. That said, his wife—the queen—would do anything to keep her throne, that involves waging a silent war against her husband for control over Ferelden."
"Are they really at war with one another?" Asked Rhyann suspiciously. For a lingering moment, she poked her face out from her arms and glanced at the stew critically. The sight did nothing for her appetite.
"Not officially, no." Pushing her now-empty bowl away from her, Lyna sighed in content. Her hand rested on her stomach, which was now lightly bulging from the added contents. "But, she hasn't forgiven us for executing her father. The woman holds a terrible grudge."
"What does this have to do with me?"
Lyna sighed whilst rubbing her temples at the same time. Rhyann got the distinct impression that she was getting a headache from this particular topic of conversation. "Alistair and Anora haven't been trying for an heir, mainly because they can't stand one another. Eamon can't stand her either, but that's beside the point. No heir means that if Alistair passes without naming one, Creators preserve him, the throne will pass on to Anora. She's been betting on this since the day they wed. He's not being her ideal little mindless puppet, so she's hoping for his untimely demise, most likely."
During Lyna's explanation, which did little to clear up Rhyann's confusion about why she mattered in the political schemes of Ferelden's King and Queen, she had reluctantly begun eating. The elf sucked a bit of the grayish stew off of the wooden spoon in utter dismay. She was hoping that it was much more flavorful than it looked. It wasn't. There was a high probability she would be making a midnight raid of the larder later that night.
"But how does this involve me?" Rhyann hadn't the sense to be bothered to remove the spoon from her mouth as she spoke.
Frustrated, Lyna threw her arms in the air with a groan. The floorboards beneath her creaked with the motion, drawing the attention of several nearby patrons. Offering her apologies, the Dalish woman settled back in her chair, causing any on-looking eyes to return to their previous tasks. "If rumors started circulating about you and Alistair baring romantic feelings for one another, this would not please Anora. It would please her even less if these rumors were true. Far worse still would be if you became pregnant by him. Your baby would have a stronger claim to Ferelden's throne than her. Imagine what kind of trouble that would be to Anora: her husband—Maric's bastard with some common serving girl—had an illegitimate child with an elf who was made noble by her husband."
Rhyann froze to the back of her chair. The spoon that had been hanging out of her mouth came loose and eventually fell to the table with a soft thump. She didn't think twice about retrieving it; she was far too shocked to even notice that it wasn't even there any longer. After what felt like decades, the elf managed to shut her mouth and collected the utensil.
"But, Alistair and I haven't…we don't even know where we stand yet." She squeaked mousily.
"So there is something going on!" Boomed Lyna, rapping her palms against the table once in excitement. Again, the attention of the Crown and Lion befell her. Like the first time, she apologized, ushering everyone to return to their conversations prior to her interruption. "I don't even know if Gray Wardens can reproduce. Still, even the possibility of reproduction between the two of you would probably scare her shitless. A lot of us are convinced she's heading down the same road Loghain did as well, meaning that she will stoop to any low to get her way."
"Do you," Rhyann gulped, "do you really think she will try to hurt me?"
"Don't know. Right now, there really aren't many speculations floating around about potential mistresses and we want to keep it that way, just in case. That was why I told you to be discreet. No sending mushy love poetry and shouting off the roof of the battlements about your undying love for one another. Okay? You never know who's listening…or reading your mail."
"But we don't even know if we lo—"
"—It doesn't matter. Just proceed on as if nothing has changed."
Lyna must have taken Rhyann's full bowl as a sign that the younger elf wasn't going to eat any more. She stood with a stretch, her joints popping, which elicited a sigh of relief from the woman. Upon stretching, the Dalish woman gathered what few possessions she had with her and placed a few silver coins on the table to pay for their meals and tip the tavern maid.
Rhyann followed her, still rather uncomfortable about their conversation. Having Lyna know her secret was like having a weight both lifted and dropped on her shoulders at the same time. The elf couldn't tell if one feeling was winning out over the other. Just thinking about what they had discussed filled her with so much anxiety. So much, if fact, that she didn't know if she could ever be in the same room as Queen Anora without the woman being able to read her secrets right off of her face. She tried not to think too hard about it, but this was proving difficult.
Prior to even reaching the gates surrounding Amaranthine, Lyna stopped and turned to Rhyann. She looked as though she had something to say. What, the girl could not tell. After the heavy discussion they had back in the tavern, she had to assume that it wasn't good. Nothing ever was when dealing with the Gray Wardens, she learned.
"After that conversation back there, I feel a little bad." Admitted Lyna awkwardly. "I've been so focused on the hit out on my head that I've been thinking that everything goes back to assassinations. That's probably what happens when your girlfriend's a Bard and one of your closest friends is an ex-Antivan Crow."
"What did you want to say, Lyna?" Rhyann was too tired to ask about the differences between a Bard and a Minstrel and which one of her friends was an Antivan Crow (though, she was pretty sure it was that Zevran fellow).
"I just wanted to say that I hope things work out between the two of you. I think you both will be great together."
A warmth spread across Rhyann's insides infectiously. It felt like a gentle hug, or the kind words from a dear friend. Having Lyna approve of them, even if neither knew where things were going, meant the world to her. Quickly, the girl advanced upon her commander and gave her a hug. She wasn't sure if this was acceptable, but she didn't care. Lyna made no motion to shove her away either.
"Thank you, Lyna. I'm not sure where things are going, but it's nice to know that you're there to support me through it."
A fleeting smile acted as Lyna's response before she headed through the gates and towards Vigil's Keep.