Chapter FORTY-THREE

A/N: Yes, Teyrn Cousland dies in the original storyline. But this isn't the original storyline, is it? ;) Don't worry, it'll get explained. As for now… Enjoy!

"Birdie, I can't believe it!" Ser Devon cried, rushing up to hug her. He lifted her off the ground and spun her in a couple circles before setting her back down. "Look at you!"

Aria laughed, still holding his upper arms, his arms around her shoulders. "I thought I heard you earlier!"

"Ah, you did! I just figured I'd come to the Castle and see you here. My wife is a handmaiden for one of the nobles," he explained, "And I'm a castle guard."

Aria noted his armour then; it was of the Denerim city guard. She smiled and gently backed away. "You have done well! I thought you took your vows, though? As a templar?"

"King Alistair offered me a position with the castle's watch after I helped fight during the brief civil war we endured before the Hero of Ferelden slew the Archdemon," Ser Devon answered her query, his grey eyes shining the way she had always remembered. "Many here don't like him as a King, but I have to say, he's right for it. He may not be as bold as King Cailin or as cunning as King Maric, but he has heart and it's a good one."

"That is wonderful! I'm…I can't even begin to describe how happy I am to see a familiar face," Aria gushed. "And I'm beyond glad you're doing so well."

The sound of someone clearing their throat made Aria turn. Fenris stood next to one of the pillars about twenty feet from them. Aria smiled broadly and waved him over. He strode up, his gaze shrewdly assessing the guard with whom Aria spoke.

"Ser Devon, this is my significant other, Fenris," Aria introduced them immediately. They grasped forearms in greeting. "Fenris, this is Ser Devon, a friend of mine from Lothering."

Ser Devon winked at her. "A very good friend."

Aria nervously chuckled, but maintained composure. "So, how is your wife? Have you had any children?" Aria asked, seeking to quell the spark of jealousy in Fenris's intense green gaze while quashing any reunification hopes Ser Devon may have held.

"We've a three year old boy named Edward Malcolm, and my wife is in wonderful health, thank you," Ser Devon replied as he gave Fenris his own assessment.

"Edward…Malcolm?" Aria inquired again.

"I knew your father was an apostate, but he was a good man. I learned many things from him. He would have been very proud of you," Ser Devon answered.

Aria smiled sadly. "Thank you. I am honoured in his stead."

"Well, I suppose I will see you both at the feast later. I must fetch my wife and walk her home to prepare," Ser Devon said then with a bow to each of them. "It was a pleasure meeting you," he said to Fenris.

"Likewise," Fenris gruffly replied.

They headed back to their suite and Ser Devon left the palace. Aria stripped out of her dusty new armour and took a shower. It was the most invigorating experience she'd ever had. Warm water jets poured out of the faucet above her head and out of the walls, and it drained immediately at her feet. When she returned home, she was going to see about having this set up installed in her own house.

"A very good friend?" Fenris rasped when she appeared from the washroom into the bedroom.

"We grew up together," Aria hedged.

"I seem to recall talk about…a templar in training," Fenris pressed.

Aria laughed and sauntered over to where he sat in the chair by the writing desk at the foot of the enormous bed. She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, her forehead resting against his. The tips of their noses touched and Aria stared deeply into his eyes.

"I'm not here for, or with, him. I'm with you and I'm here for us," she softly crooned, seeking the quell the green-eyed monster.

He ran his fingers through her damp tresses as his eyes searched hers. Then his hands slid to her hips. She gasped when he stood and carried her to the bed. Her robe hadn't been tied and it fell open. He wore only his breeches and a simple tunic. His body came to rest above hers, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to tell you I have a jealous streak," Fenris murmured against her lips as they kissed.

"You needn't ever worry," Aria whispered, then gasped when his hand slid from her navel southward, teasing her sweetly. "Oooh you better stop that. We're only going to just get started before someone's knocking on our door and ordering us around again."

Fenris hissed against her neck, his teeth lightly seizing her earlobe for a second. "We haven't sworn fealty to King Alistair. He can't order us around," he rasped, taking off his tunic and then unlacing the fly of his pants.

Aria smoothed her hand up his belly to his chest, marveling as she did every time, that the lyrium reacted to her like it did. He shuddered when her hand slipped back down and she tugged down the waistband of his breeches.

He kicked them off and crushed her to the bed beneath his own body. "Now let's hurry, before they interrupt."

ooooooo

As evening fell, and the first stars appeared in the darkening sky, Bann Teagan led them through the gardens and to the palace's great dining hall. Bann Teagan ushered them to the two empty seats beside King Alistair at the head of the table. Many of the chairs had already been filled with Fereldan nobility. They regarded Aria and Fenris with unabashed curiosity, the room abuzz with their whispering.

"Ah! Champion!" King Alistair bellowed as Aria and Fenris strode into the hall. Aria noticed that on the other side of the King, a Dalish elf stood as well. She was almost as tall as the King, but wiry where he was brawny. She had fair skin, much like Merrill's, and a beautiful vine of violet flowers were tattooed up the right side of her neck and her jaw. Her hair was blue-black, like the iridescent shade of a raven feather. Her sharp violet eyes were glued to both Aria and Fenris, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of her full, dusty pink lips. She wore an exotic evening gown in the most dazzling shade of peacock blue Aria had ever seen. The bodice was was cut so it revealed nearly her whole belly, which was well-muscled and smooth, and cinched just under her generous bosom with a wide sash. A brooch with a beautiful, large sapphire secured the top of the gown between her breasts. The gown's sleeves were long, flowing, and off the shoulder. The back was nearly completely open, revealing supple, well-defined sinew. Her hair was loose and fell in a resplendent cascade down her mostly bared back.

"Your Highness," Aria said with a curtsy. Fenris bowed.

"Stand tall, it is I who should bow to you," King Alistair replied, grasping her forearm firmly.

"Thank you for your hospitality. This…this certainly was unexpected," Aria said as Fenris took his turn to greet the King.

"You deserve nothing less, the both of you. Come, come! I'm starving!"

As Aria and Fenris were seated, she was glad Orana and Bodahn had the good sense to pack a few evening gowns for her. The one she wore tonight was a stunning number she had let Bethany talk her into buying before she took her sister back to the Gallows. The dress was dark periwinkle in colour. The bodice was tightly fitted and curved up to cover her right shoulder, leaving her left bare. Adorning it were tiny pearls sewn into the fabric that looked like curling tendrils of white ivy vines. The skirt flowed out from her hips in voluminous waves of a pearlized rendition of the colour of the bodice, iridescent and shimmering in the low torchlight of the hall. She'd opted for the simple white ballerina flats that were Orana's personal favourite from her shoe arsenal. She wore the pewter combs gifted to her by Bethany in her hair, piling the top half of it on her head in an ornate, twisting array, while letting the bottom half cascade down her back in its naturally curling silvery splendor. She'd even taken the time to put on make-up, highlighting her cheeks in a pale soft pink hue and boldly defining her fierce amber eyes with black liner and mascara.

Fenris looked just as dashing. He'd donned his trademark black breeches, though this pair had contrasting silver thread in all the stitching. He wore knee-high boots of soft black suede, which had vines of emerald embroidered up the sides. His tunic was emerald green and he wore a wide black sash that matched his breeches across his left shoulder. The doorman had taken his beautiful black cloak.

"I'm sorry I wasn't better prepared to receive you, Serah Hawke," King Alistair said as the first course was served. "All this...ass kissing and hurrah has never really been my style."

Aria almost choked on the sip of wine she'd taken and she burst into laughter. "Trust me, your Highness, it's not my style either."

"So we've heard," the elf Aria had taken interest in said then, leaning forward to look at Aria more closely. "The tales don't do you justice."

Aria quirked a brow. "And you are?"

The Dalish woman held out her hand and Aria reached forward to take it. "I am Ysabel."

"She's the Dalish Grey Warden who saved my neck against the Archdemon," King Alistair said then, and when their eyes met, Aria saw that more than battle-born camaraderie existed between the two. "She's the Hero of Ferelden."

Ysabel turned to Fenris. "Forgive my boldness, but what manner of tattoo is that?" She indicated the marks that showed on his neck and chin.

"Lyrium," Fenris curtly stated. "They were not exactly bestowed upon me by choice."

"Indeed," Ysabel gracefully accepted his unspoken request to not talk about it further. "And you went on that Deep Roads expedition with the Champion?"

"I did," Fenris rasped in response, taking a sip from his wine goblet.

"Tell me, did the darkspawn seem… More restless than usual?" Ysabel queried, her keen eyes watching his every move.

"I cannot rightfully say," Fenris replied. "We killed…many."

"Blighted Deep Roads," King Alistair said on a shudder. "Izzy, you can talk shop later."

Ysabel laughed then, a sound like chantry bells on a cold, clear winter morning. It was musical, pleasing to the ears. "One can never be too careful."

By the third course, Aria couldn't eat anymore. She took to politely declining more food, but accepted the offers for more wine. Ysabel seemed quite intent on Fenris, wheedling out short answers from him with surprising skill. As the last of the seven courses was served, King Alistair begged of Aria a retelling of the Qunari's attempted siege on Kirkwall.

Aria gave him an extremely summarized version of that terrible day's events, which, it suddenly occurred to her, had only been a fortnight ago. When she finished with the Arishok's demise, several of the nobles around them gave her a standing ovation, Ser Devon included. They also applauded Fenris, and many of them took marked interest in his presence. He was an enigma—and they were enthralled with him.

Several people around them engaged him in conversation, and Aria was thankful for the buffer it gave her. He seemed to be handling it well, surprisingly enough. He might have even been enjoying himself, as his answers had grown from three word responses to full sentences. Ysabel seemed heavily interested in everything he had to say, and for the first time since they had become involved, Aria felt a pang of jealousy.

A group of chamber musicians started playing after dinner, and several of the noble couples danced. Aria enjoyed dancing, but not in this capacity. She didn't know any of the steps and being out in front of everyone was not something she ever fancied. Her normally introverted self reared its head, and she suddenly felt exhausted.

"King Alistair, I am humbled and appreciative of this evening's festivities, however I must beg your forgiveness, as I am weary," Aria said as the chamber musicians started a new melody.

"It is no problem at all, Serah Hawke. I would have preferred a much less showy evening, myself. Perhaps we could take a ride tomorrow, you and your consort, and I with my adviseur," King Alistair replied with a smile. He stood then and the musicians went silent. "The Champion is retiring now, and I will as well. Please, enjoy the festivities, as is your wont."

King Alistair ushered Aria from the hall, taking her arm when she stood. Ysabel and Fenris followed. "I hate throwing parties like this, but Teagan insisted," he apologetically stated as they left the din of the hall.

"I understand. Not exactly my scene, either," Aria cordially laughed.

"I had figured as much. Not enough swordplay and blood," he macabrely joked.

"Indeed!" Aria chuckled.

"Come to the throne room when you've rested enough. We'll take the back way out of the castle so we can't be hounded by the nobles," King Alistair said then, handing her off to Fenris.

Aria and Fenris bowed, and the King and Ysabel returned the gesture.

"Good night," King Alistair bade them, Ysabel taking his arm.

"Good night," Aria and Fenris replied in unison.

They went back to their suite and they both quickly undressed. Aria wore only a robe and Fenris… Fenris stayed in the buff as they laid in bed together. Aria rested her head on his chest and watched the flames in the hearth.

"Being on holiday sucks," she said after a few moments. She felt rather than heard him chuckle.

"You're bored with luxury so quickly?"

Aria wryly laughed. "After years of constantly running for my life, literally, this…sedentary style makes me antsy."

"We don't have to stay here," Fenris softly said, his fingers going through her hair.

"It's going to be the same everywhere," Aria groused. "Unless we go to villages, small ones."

His chest rumbled again but he said nothing, his fingers still combing through her undone tresses. She kissed his collarbone and smoothed her hand across his chest, murmuring softly as the lyrium brands glowed at her touch.

"I thought I wanted to settle down. Put down roots, as you once said," Aria quietly said. "But I've been running so long, fighting so long…" she trailed off, the words dying on a heavy sigh.

"If you stand still, you're afraid," he continued after a moment of silence.

"Not…not afraid. Just… You're more likely to die if you don't move."

His arms went around her and he kissed the top of her head. "Only if something is giving chase."

Aria turned and lifted her head. She looked down into his eyes. "Will it ever end? Darkspawn, Danarius, nobles, templars… Other elves…"

Fenris laughed his rarest laugh at this and rolled so that she was pinned beneath him. "Other elves?"

"It was nothing. I'm being silly," Aria avoided his gaze.

It dawned on him then. She was jealous. He studied her face as his thoughts swam. Aria, jealous? Of that she-elf? Ysabel wasn't a mage and she wasn't a slave. She was Dalish, fierce and proud. But how could Aria ever think he'd fancy anyone over her? It boggled his mind.

"I love you," he shakily whispered, as though the words both overjoyed and hurt him.

Aria sharply turned her head to look at him and her hands went to his face. "I love you."

He kissed her then, a sweet, passionate exchange, his hands removing her robe. When she lay naked beneath him, he rolled to cradle her to him. He just wanted to be close to her, to be inside her, to feel her in his blood. Fenris cupped her face and kissed her deeply, moaning against her mouth when her thigh moved over his hips, the possessive way she did, the way he loved.

Fenris whispered something in Tevene then and Aria found herself beneath him once more, his mouth sweetly savage against hers. She responded in kind, losing herself in his onslaught. This...abandonment, this reckless sea of bliss tossed them both until it erupted and rendered them sated and exhausted in each other's arms.

"Now that...that is a reason for me to stop running," Aria whispered, her lips at his ear. She gently bit the bottom of his lobe and he crushed her to him.

"On that, we can both agree," Fenris growled, nipping her shoulder.

"You keep that up-" Aria started, but Fenris was above her again.

"And what? Round two?"

Aria laughed and thumped him on the chest. "You're a heathen!"

"Am I?" Fenris chuckled on a low growl, leaning down to nip her neck.

"No," Aria giggled.

"Let's go...somewhere," he said then.

"Right now?" Aria asked in surprise.

"Yes. Now."

She laughed when he jumped out of the bed and started pulling on clothes. "Fenris, what are you doing?!" Aria chortled, following him, donning her own clothes. He pulled her to him and lifted her, then spun her.

"Let's go," he rasped, carrying her to the door.

"Fenris!" Aria gasped when he set her down. "What has gotten-"

He silenced her with a kiss and then ran out of the room, tugging Aria along with him. They ran. Just ran and ran, until they found themselves on the highest walls of Fort Drakon, overlooking the mountains and the city. They watched the sunrise together there, perched between the crenelations on the battlements.

The early morning Chantry song lifted over the rooftops to their ears, peals of pretty bells, and the peace of the morning stole over them. This was what they really wanted. This peace, to see the greater picture, to be the ones wielding the strokes of the paintbrush, instead of being the paint on the canvas. They waited until the sun had climbed high enough to bathe the city in its warm light. In the west, great thunderheads rolled in the distance.

"It's going to rain," Fenris said then, breaking the spell that had taken over them.

"And there's Mr. Optimist again," Aria chuckled, scooting to the edge of the wall toward the catwalk. She hopped down and Fenris raced behind her as they made their way back towards the palatial suite reserved for them.

"Ah! Serah Hawke! Out for a morning stroll already?" King Alistair greeted them as they reentered the Castle. He wore riding breeches and a riding habit, both done in gold and hunter green. Ysabel stood with him, dressed in similar garb, though her clothes were soft fawn and kelly green.

Aria and Fenris exchanged a look.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," Aria groaned.

Fenris chuckled and shook the hand King Alistair offered. "Good morning, your Highness."