Dragon Age
The Rose of Highever
A/N: Thank you both RandomWittering and Jinx1983 for beta-ing this chapter.
Thank you for reading and adding this little story to your list. A big thanks to those who take the time to review, I love hearing from the other side of the screen.
Chapter Thirty Seven: Come What May
Sitting across the table from Eamon in his study, Samantha managed to keep her expression neutral, even though deep inside she was the happiest she had been for the longest time. She stole a quick glance at the young man who was sitting right next to her, the one who would be her husband when the Blight was over. The corners of her lips twisted up at that thought; she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from bursting out into giggles.
Samantha was proud that Alistair was also able to keep a grin off his face, as she had instructed, just before entering Eamon's study. The Arl had wanted to meet with them, but Alistair would not even let him see her when she was resting. However, the Blight could not wait, nor could the Landsmeet. The Lady Cousland was not about to delay her duties just because of an injury. Besides, truth be told, Samantha was quite eager to get both the Landsmeet and the Blight out of her way, just so she could start the rest of her life with the man beside her.
They had not told the Arl about their plan for the future yet. Samantha had suggested they withhold the news until Eamon was done discussing the Landsmeet. Alistair had been too busy studying her lips to disagree with her plan.
Alistair shot her a look and their eyes met with mirrored twinkles. He broke into a smile, and she quickly gave a subtle head shake, but it only caused his smile to broaden. Samantha broke their gaze and returned her focus back to Eamon, hoping that by ignoring Alistair momentarily, his attention would shift back to the Arl. But her plan was foiled when he reached over to take her hand under the table, and put it onto his lap, holding it there. Her cheeks heated up ever so slightly, and she felt a squeeze in her hand. She didn't need to look, to know his eyes were tracing her profile while the Arl was talking.
"I'm not saying Anora didn't do well enough while Cailan was King, but Maker's Grace, we did not fight to get the Orlesians out of Ferelden only to have Calenhad's line end at Ostagar."
Sensing the direction of Eamon's well-prepared speech, Samantha quickly tugged at Alistair's hand to jolt him out of his reverie, just in time as Eamon turned to look meaningfully at Alistair. "Not when there is a surviving son of the blood."
Both Wardens remained silent with matching neutral expressions, both fighting to keep their grins at bay.
The Arl was oblivious to the undercurrent in the room and forged on, "Alistair's father was Maric Theirin, a man we all risked our lives for, to win back the throne. His mother may have been a maid, but that first fact is undeniable. I wish... I wish Maric had taken more time to educate and instruct Alistair in the politics of ruling, Maker knows I did my best."
Maric wasn't even there to be a father, let alone to instruct him in how to be a King. That thought alone ignited a tiny spark of fire in her belly, sobering her giddy mood, but Samantha wisely kept her thought to herself.
"We all hoped Cailan and Anora would have children to secure the succession, but that hope ended with his death. Calenhad united Ferelden four hundred years ago and since then, his descendants have ruled this country. That was the heritage we fought so hard to preserve from the Orlesians, and it is that heritage I will fight for as long as one of Calenhad's descendants still lives."
With her back straight, Samantha carefully donned her Lady Cousland face and studied the Prince. "Alistair might not know the first thing about being king, but no one is born with such knowledge. He can learn."
Eamon nodded. "With a few months of experience, Alistair will make a fine King."
"Of that I have no doubt," Samantha agreed without hesitation.
"He knows how to stand and fight for justice. He knows how to show compassion to those less fortunate, and how to trust to the Maker's guidance to know right from wrong. And he knows who to turn to for aid should that training fail him."
You. She might be young, but she had long ago learned how to read between the lines, especially when dealing with nobles. Fergus might have been the older Cousland but Bryce had insisted on training both his children equally.
"He will be fine," concluded the Arl.
"At least you admit I need training and help. Lots of help. In case I fall off the throne," the subject of their discussion finally spoke up, yet his voice dripped with sarcasm. However, after one look from Samantha, Alistair sighed in defeat. "Look, I get why it's so important to put 'Theirin blood' on the throne and all, but I'll be the first to admit I can't do this alone."
"I'll help you any way I can." The tone of her voice was firm, yet the glance she gave him was a gentle one.
Alistair responded with a loving smile.
"We need to put forth the strongest argument before the Landsmeet to remove Loghain from power," the Arl began to spin his web. "There is one solution that would certainly solve a lot of problems."
"I'm all for killing many birds with one stone," said Alistair with a casual shrug. "What is it, then?"
"Unfortunately, the... 'solution' would never happen unless both parties involved agreed to it."
"Great, more nobles to convince? Do we have to help every noble and their dog in the city with their family problems to win their votes?" Alistair rolled his eyes.
Samantha felt as though she was sitting on needles. She did not like the look on Eamon's face. Not one bit.
The Arl cast a cautious glance at both of them before he continued, "With Theirin blood on the throne, and Anora's wisdom and popularity, Ferelden could present the most united front against the Blight."
The blood in her veins froze, her stomach dropped. Samantha willed herself not to move one single muscle; her poised and dignified front remained intact.
Alistair, on the other hand, lacked such discipline. His jaw dropped in utter shock. "P- pardon?" She was certain he knew what the Arl meant, he was merely in denial.
The voice that came out from her was uncharacteristically cold and detached. "He is suggesting that you should marry Anora."
"You're joking, right? Tell me you're joking!" Alistair shot up suddenly in extreme agitation. Standing at his full height, the Prince towered over the man sitting across the table. His rare temper flared with full force. "You are telling me to marry HER? Have you even met her? Hello! That woman is made out of ice, and she's heartless! Sammy was captured because of her. She betrayed her, she betrayed us! She will betray us again the moment we turn our backs! And in case you forgot who her father is. She is Loghain's daughter! And she sure is her father's daughter through and through. You want me to spend the rest of my life staring at the face that will forever remind me of Duncan's murderer? NO! The answer is NO! Not even if the Maker came down from above and begged me to marry that bit- woman... whatever! NO!"
Alistair had yelled so loud that his voice became hoarse at the end of his rant. He threw himself back into his chair with a growl, his face flushed with rage. Samantha quietly reached for the jar of water on the table to pour a glass and handed it to the angry prince. Alistair took it and exchanged a look with her, her comforting hand rested on his arm. Tension in his face seemed to have slightly loosened as he finished the glass of water in one gulp and put it back down with a thud.
"The answer is no," Alistair repeated firmly, just in case the Arl didn't hear him the first time. Still breathless from his explosion, he continued with his momentum and blurted out, "In fact, now is as good a time to tell you this: We are going to get married after all this Blight business is over and done with!"
His sudden and blunt announcement in front of Eamon took Samantha by surprise. Her carefully crafted facade of poise cracked a little as a pink tint flushed on her face. Alistair and his timing... She raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. Alistair merely shrugged and took her hand, lacing her fingers with his, and deliberately rested them on the table for the Arl to see that by 'we', he meant them.
The message was loud and clear: blast your plan to the Dark City.
Eamon eyed Samantha thoughtfully, almost as if he had never met her. She met his gaze and held her own ground with the dignity and poise expected from the heir to Highever. The Arl then briefly shifted his focus to Alistair before landing it back on her.
She felt Alistair's fingers tighten around hers.
"This might work." Eamon nodded to himself as he stroked his thick beard.
"What now?" asked Alistair suspiciously. His voice was laced with weariness.
"Before Anora became queen, she was the Teyrn's daughter," said the Arl. "And so are you, Samantha. The Cousland line is indeed long. The Couslands became Teyrns during the Black Age, as I recall?"
"During the lycanthrope plagues," Samantha answered with certainty, "Before Calenhad had even united Ferelden." Her family history was one of the many lessons Master Aldous had drilled into her. She held Eamon's gaze evenly.
Alistair's fingers tightened even more on her own.
"You two have raised an army all by yourself. Managed to unite elves, dwarves, mages, and humans all to fight the Blight. Alistair couldn't do it on his own, and he certainly couldn't do it without you. I can see that now..." Eamon admitted hesitantly. "Bryce no doubt trained you as well as your brother, should anything have happened to him. You have everything needed to help Alistair. You will do well as his Queen. You have my blessings."
At long last, Alistair's grip relaxed.
She turned and faced the man who would be her husband, and he flashed a huge grin of relief. She knew how much Eamon meant to Alistair. Although they would have still been together, even if Eamon had protested, Samantha had no doubt that Eamon's blessings meant much more to Alistair than he would ever admit. She smiled fondly at the Prince, allowing her guard to relax for just a moment, and fought the urge to plant a kiss on him.
Giving him a subtle wink before she composed herself once again, Samantha turned to the Arl, then dipped her head ever so slightly with grace and poise worthy of the future Queen of Ferelden. "Thank you, my Lord."
"Well, that wasn't so hard..." Alistair commented dreamily, as he walked down the hallway with Samantha's arm tucked in his. "I'm not dreaming, am I? Pinch me."
Samantha rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, but her smile was loving. She did as he asked and pinched his cheek lightly.
Alistair touched his face with a dubious look. "Hm. I don't feel anything."
So she pinched once more. Harder this time.
"Ow! That hurts," he whined and rubbed his cheek. "So this isn't a dream. We are going to... you know..."
A fine brow arched at him. "You are not having second thoughts, are you?"
"No, of course not!" Alistair denied immediately. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I mean it. But... are you sure?"
Samantha stared at him incredulously. "Am I sure I want to marry you?"
"Yes, that..."
"Yes." It was the second time she'd said yes to that question, and once again without hesitation.
"Oh, good. I thought I was dreaming when you said yes earlier. Whew!" He let out a dramatic sigh of relief jokingly then continued with a chuckle, "But I'm pretty sure what came after the 'yes' wasn't a dream, I think I might have some bite marks from you to prove that." That earned himself a swat on his arm from his newly betrothed. He raised a teasing eyebrow at the blushing woman by his side. "So, you do know that you would be the Queen of Ferelden, right? I mean, if I win the Landsmeet and all."
Sky blue eyes widened in feigned surprise as she gasped dramatically. "Really? You don't say! I think I must have missed that part of the deal." His sarcasm had definitely been rubbing off on her.
"Oh, I don't blame you. Who wants to be Queen, right? I mean, looking pretty in a fancy dress, sitting around the castle could be pretty tiring." He snickered. "Seriously though, you are... fine with the idea of being Queen?"
"Only if you are my King, then yes," replied Samantha in all seriousness, but she then paused and added with a teasing smile, "It is the price of being your wife, is it not?"
He laughed, relieved to hear her confirmation. "I am quite the prize, aren't I? Well, you've caught me fair and square. Now it's time to pay up and get trapped in the castle with me."
She snorted rather unladylike. "I grew up in one, my love. Only mine was smaller than yours."
He stopped their tracks and grinned happily at her. "Smart, beautiful, ready and willing to be trapped, and able to kick asses at the drop of a hat. You will make an excellent queen. And I get to marry the woman I love. It can't be much better than that, can it?" Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in for a kiss.
But Samantha stopped him with her hand over his lips. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a maid glancing at them as she passed. A giggle from the distance confirmed her suspicion. "You are going to be King. Remember the first lesson I told you the other night: there are always people around the castle."
"Right... The King kissing his Queen. How scandalous!" He rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
"I am not your Queen, yet," she reminded him. "Gossip within castles and mansions spread faster than wildfire."
"Fine. Fine. Have it your way," Alistair conceded with a dramatic sigh, though smiling with amusement. "I'll have you all to myself soon enough. Say, how fast can you run back to the bedroom?"
Wrinkling her nose at him, she corrected his presumption, "Well, I didn't say you couldn't kiss me in public..." Samantha shot cautious glances around before taking his face in her hands and pulled him in for the kiss he had just been denied. He was pleasantly surprised and returned the gesture eagerly, but groaned with disappointment when she broke off way too soon for his liking.
"This is how it's done," instructed his future Queen half-seriously, releasing her hold on his face. "Just be more discreet."
"I see," said Alistair, immensely amused. "Like this?"
He mimicked her and swooped in for another kiss that lasted much longer than their previous one. "Where did you learn that trick from?" he asked when they eventually broke off. "This... sneaky discretion thing. Not standard lessons for a teyrna-in-training, right?"
"You know I grew up in a castle."
"Yes, but... You mean you kissed a lot of men back in Highever?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"What? No! Of course not!" She glared at him indignantly, horrified by his implication. "I did no such thing. Not even once! You were the first man I've ever kissed and- and been with. You know that! And you will be the last."
Ignoring his over-the-top 'aw!' exclamation, as well as the burning heat on her cheeks, Samantha continued with her own defense, "Going around kissing men would have brought shame to the family, as Oriana would have put it. My mother would have killed me if I had! Not that I ever wanted to. I just saw a lot of sneaking around done by maids and guards. Not to mention my brother, before he got married."
"Aw, you're so cute when you're all flustered," teased the prince with a huge grin plastered on his face.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "...You did that on purpose."
His laughter earned him yet another swat on his arm, harder than last time. Although it barely stopped him from laughing long enough to let out a playful fake "Ow" before snickering again.
"Keep at it and you will not have any alone time with me until our wedding night," Samantha warned with a slight pout, then turned on her heels to walk away, before a mischievous grin could burst out from her well-composed straight face.
As expected, Alistair immediately followed like a puppy. "Sammy! Wait. I'm sorry. It's just that... it's been so stressful all this time, especially with you being injured. I could use a good laugh to ease some tension."
"Oh, I could give you more than a good laugh to ease your tension," said Samantha suggestively in a voice low enough to tickle his ears.
"Ooh, that sounds rather saucy," he mumbled and grinned to himself, then paused with a suspicious look. "Wait. I thought you were angry with me."
She turned to him as soft laughter escaped her lips, her eyes twinkled in mischief. "So I fooled you, did I? I was joking."
"About the angry part, I hope," said Alistair with a relieved chuckle. "Not the tension easing part."
Another playful swat. This time much lighter. She linked her arm with his as they continued on. Comfortable silence settled between them, as both were contented with each other's presence.
"They'll expect an heir, you know." Alistair said tentatively.
"It's part of being Queen." Of course she knew, although that didn't quell the pink flush on her face.
There was a long pause. She could feel the muscles in his arm tense. Samantha cast a curious glance at him. His eyes were glued to the rug as they slowly walked down the hallway. "But... with the taint in our blood, it's hard enough for a Grey Warden to have a child on their own. For two of them...?"
That part she did not know. Color drained from her cheeks and a breath caught in her throat. Samantha froze mid-step, stunned beyond belief by the revelation.
He stopped and turned to her, then continued, "Every Grey Warden I knew who had children had them before they took the Joining." Alistair shot an uncomfortable glance at his betrothed. "Having an heir... might not be possible."
His words unknowingly drove an invisible punch in her gut, knocking the wind out of her; an unseen dagger stabbed right into her heart. Samantha scowled, couldn't even summon the energy to mask the sudden pain inside her. She probably heard him wrong- no, she had to have heard him wrong. "Not... p-possible?" she uttered in a quiet stutter.
The apprehension and sadness on his face drove the dagger further in and twisted it. Wordlessly, he nodded once.
Anger, betrayal, heartache all came to her at once, overwhelmed every bit of her senses. She was robbed of the chance of motherhood - an experience generations and generations of women had been blessed with, a future she had once taken for granted, and a dream she had harbored from the fairy tales she used to read.
Her life was not a fairy tale.
She dropped her arm from his as though it was burning her. Hugging herself rather defensively, she took a few steps away from him. The knot between her brows tightened further.
Samantha knew she shouldn't, but she felt utterly betrayed by Duncan, and even Alistair. Duncan for recruiting her and knowingly cursing her with this tainted blood. And Alistair for withholding this most crucial piece of information until it was too late.
"Um... Sammy?" The pain in his eyes was too much for her to bear. The dagger in her heart gave a final twist before it was yanked out.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she asked almost accusingly.
"Well, I thought about it a lot, actually. But now, it doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?"
"No, please just listen..." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumped. "Look, I never thought you would agree to marry me. Sure, of course I've dreamed of it, but in my dreams I usually end up naked and everyone laughs at me. I wanted to ask you to marry me that night in Redcliffe. But... I wasn't sure if you'd even consider it, spending the rest of your life with an idiot like me-"
She cut him off with a shake of her head, "Of course I would!"
"It was stupid of me to doubt you, wasn't it?" He let out another sigh. Hazel eyes looked into blue ones with nothing but sincerity. "After you left for the rescue, all I could think about was you and the danger you were in. All I wanted that entire morning was for you to come back to me, so I could tell you I love you. Maker knows I haven't said that enough. And then when they came back without you, I... I lost it. The Landsmeet, even the Blight, suddenly none of that mattered to me anymore. When I carried you back to the mansion from the fort, I had never been so scared in my life. I thought I would lose you forever, and there was not a damn thing I could do to save you."
Her face softened with each word. Still, she remained quiet to let him finish.
"Thank the Maker you came back to me... I love you, I do. After all that we've been through, the problem with our taint would just be another obstacle that we have to overcome. If we survive the Blight, there's nothing else that could stop us from being together. I know it's probably selfish of me, you have Highever to deal with, but I really want you to be with me, forever. And when you said yes, I felt all of this... weight, lifted off my shoulders. The thought of being King didn't seem so bad anymore, as long as I have you as my Queen."
She couldn't be angry with him for too long, she knew that. But there were too many issues unresolved. Her brows tightened back into a knot.
Her life was not a fairy tale. Fairy tale princesses never had to deal with realistic political pressure.
As much as she tried to maintain her composure, her voice was trembling.
"Do you know what usually happens when a queen fails to produce an heir?"
He shook his head helplessly.
That didn't surprise her. But she knew. All the history books she'd read and lessons from the late Master Aldous had taught her much. None of the historical outcomes that came to her mind right now were remotely pleasant. She could only wish she didn't know. At least she could still be enjoying the pure bliss and happiness she had just moments ago.
Perhaps ignorance was a bliss.
Samantha breathed out a wary sigh. "Your adviser, in this case, most likely Eamon, would push you to replace me." It pained her to say it out loud as she predicted a future she wished she couldn't foresee.
Alistair scowled. "He wouldn't do that! Would he? I wouldn't let him!"
"Then, you might have to take a mistress." Every word stabbed her like a jab from her dagger.
Ignorance was a bliss.
"No! I won't do that to you. I can't!" He shook his head hard, visibly disturbed by that idea.
"You might not have a choice, my love. It's your duty to continue your line, as Eamon and other royalists so adamantly believe." She took a long shuddering breath before she continued with her prediction, her voice softened down to a whisper. "And I would have to accept it, or step down."
"No! Absolutely not! I refuse to have any mistresses or lovers or whatever. It would be unfair to you. I couldn't- I wouldn't do that!"
"Alistair..."
His temper ignited for the second time that night. "Damn them all to the Dark City! They want to make me King? Fine, I'll be King! But only if you are my Queen, and I'll do exactly what I want to do. I'll not touch another woman and they can't force me. I am King, they are not! And if they want the Theirin blood on the throne so badly, I'll bottle up a jar of my blood to put on the throne for them before my calling!"
Sky blue eyes stared right into his; she was speechless.
Alistair held her gaze firmly. "Remember that day outside Goldanna's? You taught me to stand up for myself, Sammy. And now I'm making my stand. You have been standing by me all this time, even when all I did was whine and complain. Without Samantha Cousland, there would be no King Alistair. Eamon knows that! Everybody knows that. If they think they could shove you aside just because of some... heir issues, well, they're wrong! I won't let them! If they dare to remove you, I will step down together with you. We'd empty the coffer, go to Orlais, and eat pies for the rest of our lives!"
Trust Alistair to bring a smile to her face even when she was about to cry. She studied him with tremendous pride; the once self-deprecating bastard Prince had now grown into a strong-willed future King.
His temper cooled off almost instantly when he spotted the smile on her lips. "I am not joking." His firm tone matched his words. He pulled her in for a hug and tightened his arms around her as though she would slip away the moment he loosened his grip.
"I know." She held onto him just as tightly, ignoring the discomfort in her torso. Thankfully neither of them were in their armor; she could easily feel the pounding of his heart through the fabric of their clothing.
"Not even the Orlais and pie part." A hint of smile came back into his voice.
She buried her face into his shoulder and mumbled, "I know."
They remained still. Neither wanted to let go.
But soon, her body jerked. Not because of pain, but due to a sudden idea that came to her. Alistair immediately pulled back and lowered his gaze to her in alarm. "I'm sorry, love, did I hurt you again?"
Shaking her head in denial, she looked up at him slyly. "You know, if you were to appoint an official heir before yo- our callings, and give yourself enough time for the necessary transition, as well as time for the appointed heir to be trained in ruling, the succession might go smoothly without risking civil war..."
Alistair stared at her thoughtfully. She could tell the wheels behind his mind had started to spin.
"A lot of people are supporting Anora even though she does not have a drop of Theirin blood," she reasoned. "They like her because their lives were not so bad under her rule, not because of her bloodline. If whoever you chose could be just as good a leader, there would be no reason to rebel against your heir, even though he's not of your blood. The people want stability, not war. Most of them don't care who's on the throne so long as they have food on their table."
A grin slowly spread across his face as her words sank in. "See? That's why I love you! You're so smart. Here all I did was rant and yell, and you actually came up with the good idea." He landed a proud kiss on her forehead, then turned serious once more and gazed straight into the eyes of his future Queen. "I never made one single important decision for myself my entire life, not until I met you. This... You and I being together, this is probably the most important decision that I will ever make for myself. And I'm going to stand by my decision. Even if the Maker Himself came to take you away from me, I would chase Him down and bring you back. I am not letting you go, no matter what. Trust me."