The hall of the Landsmeet chambers emerge in stark white contrast to the river of crimson carpet unfolded under their feet. Ilina's eyes are wide and terrified as she contemplates both - her body quakes.

"Just remember what we talked about, Mouse." Alistair's quiet whisper reduces the fear a touch, and she straightens her back, marches to the doors and throws them open. A hundred noblemen and women silence and turn to her. Her body freezes. She reaches for a reassuring hand. Zev's fingers entwine with hers. Her eyes catch his and his confidence squares her shoulders again.

She drops Zev's hand and tries not to stare at the colorful array of whispering faces as she walks towards probable doom.

Well, Ilina, do or die time. Make Ali proud! And for Maker's sake don't trip!

A little bird is beating its wings in her chest. She tries to still it - and realizes she just grabbed her breast in front of about a gazillion people. Her eyes close and the blush that stains her cheeks rivals the carpet's coloring. Alistair cannot help her, she knows this, but it doesn't stop the rampant need to lean on him for support.

"Tell us warden, how the Orlesians will leave after you've invited them here? You will leave us open for their occupation!" Loghain's words throw anger into her heart and it swells and pulses like a dangerous wound. The rage lifts her chin and squints her eyes. And, best of all, it stomps the mountain of fear down into a tiny little bud of squished earth.

"Me? Why you…You left us to die in Ostagar. If the Orlesians ever do come for us, we'll have you to thank for the loss of half our army! You even helped that baggy-faced mongrel, Howe, to torture innocent people!"

Several barks.

She gasps and looks down and winces. "No, that wasn't fair, you're right."

Whine

"No, I, promise it wasn't meant that way!"

Bark. Whine.

"Yes, a beautiful juicy one with the meat still warm and hanging off i-." Ilina notes the silence and looks up from the dog to see a hundred raised eyebrows staring at her. She straightens her robes and clears her throat.

"Howe's crimes are his own. And what justice is there for murdering a man in his home? We are not savages here, we have a system. Howe should have been brought before it!" Loghain barely looks at her, he addresses the chambers, and much to Ilina's indignation, many of them nod in agreement.

"A system? Is part of your system hiring blood mages to murder Arl Eamon? That's some nifty system you have there! And let's not forget about your system of ignoring the Blight to get to the throne!" She was going to launch herself at him and poke his eyes out with her tiny little fingers – which, she acknowledges - probably isn't the best way to get Alistair on the throne. She is mollified, a bit, when some of the nobles nodded with her this time.

"The blight will be ended by me and my army, we do not need Orlesians or Grey Wardens to make claim on our lands after it's defeated. I remind you all who it is that drove the Orlesians out of Ferelden." She could tell he was getting desperate, and her eyes narrowed in challenge. "What have you done with my daughter?"

Done with his…? Her eyes widened in confusion at both the question and the abrupt change of subject.

"Done with her? I rescued her from Howe, that's what I did! And you know it you…you…" Temper Ilina! "Murderer!" A proud smile graces her lips as she nudges Alistair with her elbow and says loudly, "Hah, bet you thought I was going to embarrass you by calling him a jackass." A few gasps cause her eyes to widen and Alistair to rub his temples. Drat!

"I can speak for myself, father." Anora's voice rose from the back of the chambers. "And as your Queen, lords and ladies, it is my duty to speak against the woman that has defamed and slandered my father's good name, a true hero of Ferelden!"

"…"

"Oh, big shock there! I don't really want to say that I told you so…" She looks at Eamon and then Alistair. "But I did, in fact, tell you so." She crosses her arms under breasts and shakes her head.

"Ferelden has stood many years without the Grey Wardens, we've driven out the Orlesians and we will drive out this blight. Stand with me!" Loghain is anxiously calling for a vote. The nobles are rumbling and suddenly Ilina is back at the tower being chosen last for every team.

She closes her eyes and miraculously hears them choosing her. She opens her eyes and really tries hard not to smile in satisfaction. She fails and even manages a little bounce on her heels.

"None of you were with me against the Orlesians. You've no say now. Let us end this as it's been done for centuries. A duel. Choose your challenger!"

"Alistair is king, Loghain." She says it quietly, and even menacingly. Alistair…her eyes look to him, pleading. He nods and smiles encouragingly and then draws his sword.

She cannot watch and each clang of the sword and utterance from the crowd makes her wince. Her fingers reach out again, and Zevran's find them. It's only when he squeezes lightly that she finds the courage to turn around and watch.

Alistair's sword arcs in a perfect circle, drawing Loghain's eyes to it. As the older warrior draws up his shield to block, Alistair's shield deftly pushes up into the commander's chin. The snap of bone can be heard in the silence of the room, but Loghain is only dazed a moment. Alistair's middle is left exposed for a brief instant while the shield is raised, and Loghain doesn't miss the opportunity - his sword clangs against the younger man's armor and Alistair weaves back, breathless. The final assault should have been Loghain's. The older knight seizes his chance as Alistair tries to gain footing, and as he lunges, Alistair stands upright - as if he'd anticipated the move - and parries the blow. Loghain realizes his mistake too late as Alistair's sword arcs a final time.

Ilina barely has time to blink before Loghain is dead. The pity that wells up in her throat when Anora weeps over his corpse makes her want to vomit.

And then she's being asked who to name ruler and, although she knew it was coming, she can't help but be shocked that people actually want her opinion on the matter. Have they seen her? She's not even tall. She talks to mabari, she grabs her boob in front of people. She's a mage. But they are looking to her for answers, and she is filled with pride, and a sort of dignity.

"Alistair is king! Anyone who doubts that can join Loghain." She turns a slow circle around the room, finding Anora she lifts her staff and points, "And you can have your throne, you ruthless, cold-hearted harpy, if we're all dead." Something grips her inside; something cold and dark, and she feels herself giving into it.

Alistair is proud, he clasps her on the shoulder and addresses the chambers. "The blight comes first before any talk of taking the throne. Anora can be kept in the tower, if…I should perish."

She makes her way to the door, carefully, assuring that she reaches the exit without incident. No trips. No falls. She beams inside as she flings the doors open wide, which slam into Alistair's face.

Alistair is grabbing his nose even as she reaches up to heal it. "Oh dear Maker, Mouse, just this once…?"

Zevran is not waiting in her room. She's curious, but not worried. She knocks tentatively at his door and receives no response. She feels such immeasurable joy tonight. Alistair is king, they've only this teensy tiny problem of the blight now and she wants to spend every second possible with Zev. Her lips purse in a pout and she decides to wait inside his rooms, doing something…seductive. She slips in quietly and undresses, laying under the blankets and trying to fan her braids out.

By the time he enters, hours later, she's asleep and buried face down between two piles of pillows. A hard slap to the backside wakes her up.

"Come on, my dear."

"Zev," she turns, face flushed with sleep. She blinks up at him and smiles. "Hello." She hears a satisfying intake of breath when she pulls off the top sheet.

"No," he says, arms crossed.

No? She must have heard him wrong. She flutters her lashes.

He blinks.

And then she's hauled out of bed, her robe being pulled over her head and then she's pushed out in the hall with her arms still at her sides, sleeves dangling uselessly.

"I…" She turns and the door is shut in her face. Her eyes widen and she scrambles to get her arms into her sleeves and pound on the door. "Zev…you…the door…open it," her voice is exasperated and breathless; she's twisting and finally gets the robe on…backwards.

She glares at the door one last time before stomping back to her room.

My beta is afk for a week or so and I adore him so I'm waiting on him to be ready for new chapters to beta. Sorry that this one is so slow getting out - unfortunately, I expect the new ones will be as well =(. Darn those college classes taking away two of my best betas ever *growl, snarl*