Understanding
The early summer sun shone brightly in blue skies above. It's warmth radiated into the courtyard, lighting up the pale stonework in a rich hue. A gentle breeze swam through the air as the slight wind was funnelled through archways and between the myriad of buildings that made up the royal palace.
It would almost be peaceful if it weren't for the clapping shrill of steel on steel.
Aedan Cousland, Hero and Prince-Consort of Ferelden panted hard through his smirk as he deftly blocked his foe's attack before throwing in a jab of his own. Sweat streamed down his brow and stained his pale tunic. His short hair was a mess about his head too. Very unbecoming of a Prince, Aedan thought in a mocking attempt at his dear wife's voice.
Across from him, Ser Cauthrien was looking just as haggard. Her eyes narrowed in a silent glare as she struck his defences from every angle, trying to find a way through. Aedan grunted with each block he made. His opponent was certainly not going to take it easy on him, Prince or no. He almost regretted challenging her to a duel now. He thought it would be a good way to hone his skills. He remembered Cauthrien as a warrior of considerable skill after all. She'd all but dragged him and his party to prison during the Blight. He'd be lucky to escape this bout with mere cuts and bruises.
A quick jab aimed towards Aedan's left leg brought about a glimpse of an opportunity. The Prince-Consort bashed the incoming blade away with shield at the same time thrusting his own sword towards the knight's neck. Cauthrien must have seen it coming, or else anticipated the move. She deftly swung her left shoulder around, catching his blade and forcing the attack wide off from her pauldron. As he swung back, her shield arm came up to grab the top of hilt of his blade in a vicelike grip, the weapon flailing uselessly behind her as they struggled for dominance.
Aedan would have offered a smirk in appreciation of the manoeuvre, but his attention was suddenly absorbed in the sword that flew towards his head. He dropped his own weapon and pulled away, narrowly escaping in time. He deftly skirted away from Cauthrien, putting more than a few feet between them as he caught his breath. The knight smirked for the first time and expertly swung both swords about herself in tightly controlled arcs.
"You're lucky the darkspawn aren't trained in swordplay." The knight jeered. "You should never lose your weapon in battle." She tossed his blade behind her unceremoniously. It fell onto the flagstones with a shrill clatter.
"I'd be tempted to agree with you, but there are more than ways than one to win a battle."
Cauthrien eyed him curiously. "You have no weapon. How do you hope to win?"
"I'm sure I'll think of something." With that, Aedan sprang into action and charged her with his shield up.
Cauthrien brought hers up just as quick and the two warriors met with a heavy metallic clash. For a long moment the contest was one of sheer strength as they pushed into each other. Aedan had size and momentum on his side, but Cauthrien had technique and sheer determination. Then, Aedan shifted to his right. The knight almost fell in on his left side for a moment before she righted herself.
"Is that really the best you can do?" She admonished through gritted teeth.
Aedan didn't answer. He was just about to do the same again when a heavy blow rang through his leg. His stance faltered and he felt Cauthrien pull her shield back. Only for a second, then it was slammed into his face with force. Aedan was sent sprawling and fell onto his back. He spun out of the way of the inevitable sword strike. He heard it burrow a new groove into the stonework. Aedan spun again and looked up to see Cauthrien side on to him, bringing her sword up for another strike. Without wasting time to think of chivalry, Aedan swung his leg out and caught the knight behind the knee. Cauthrien swore as she toppled and grunted in annoyance more than in pain when she fell.
The Prince-Consort threw his gaze around. He found his sword a good distance away. He scrambled as best he could towards it. He'd only made it halfway when he felt cold steel at his neck.
"Enough." Cauthrien breathed heavily. "You've lost."
Aedan sighed and turned on his back, hands raised in surrender. When he locked gazes with Cauthrien, he was almost certain that she wanted to kill him there and then. The fiery anger in her eyes was almost physical. He belatedly realised that the two were all alone in the courtyard. There were plenty of windows above so Maker only knew if there were any witnesses, but it was about as good an opportunity as anyone could get.
Aedan had quietly wondered just how resentful Cauthrien had felt after Loghain's downfall. The man had practically made the knight who she was, it was understandable that she'd harbour some sort of bitterness towards the man who had orchestrated his downfall. She'd always been a consummate professional however, and Anora had forbid any sort of punishment for Cauthrien's part in Loghain's crimes. Besides, it wasn't the first time Aedan had worked with someone who had wanted him dead before.
For a long moment, they stood and lay where they were. Then, Cauthrien relinquished her blade and the fire in her eyes. She sheathed the sword smartly before offering her hand to the Prince-Consort. Aedan took it after a heartbeat and allowed Cauthrien to pull him up to his feet.
"Where in Thedas did you learn to fight like that?" Cauthrien eyed him dubiously.
"Here and there." Aedan patted himself down in an effort to free his armour of dirt, it wasn't very effective. "I had something of an education back in Highever. The rest, I picked up during the Blight."
"You fight more like a brigand." Cauthrien shook her head and stalked over to where the Prince's sword lay on the ground. She scooped it up and deftly tossed it back to its owner. "Or an assassin even. No knight I know of would use dirty little tricks like that."
"Funny you should mention that." Aedan smiled slightly as he sheathed his sword. "I had a few pointers from an Antivan Crow once."
"Zevran." Cauthrien supplied instantly.
Aedan turned a curious look to the knight. "You knew him?"
"Knew? No. I never had the opportunity." The way she said 'opportunity' with such acidity left little doubt as to how much she'd have like to made Zevran's acquaintance. "But I knew we had … procured his services." Cauthrien toyed with the straps of her shield for a long moment in silence. "Evidently he failed."
Aedan regarded the knight for a moment, then the floor, then the knight again. "Is that not how you would have done it?" He asked, curious.
Cauthrien looked up sharply at the question, a challenge or a rebuke on her lips. Then the fire died and she averted her gaze, admonished. "I'm sorry, my liege. I shouldn't speak of such things." The words were mechanical.
"It's alright, I'd prefer you speak you're mind."
Cauthrien regarded the Prince-Consort for a long moment, perhaps wondering if he was leading her into a trap to say something incriminating. "It is not how I would have done it." She finally murmured.
"Why not? I was your enemy after all."
"That doesn't make it right." She shook her head. "The ends don't always justify the means."
"On that, I think we can agree." Aedan smiled slightly. "Still, I don't understand your reticence. I was a sworn enemy of the state. I was quite literally building an army if you recall."
"You were building that force for the darkspawn's benefit, not Loghain."
"True, but you were being led to believe we were mounting a rebellion against Loghain himself, surely?"
Cauthrien scoffed. "As if a motley collection of elves, dwarves and Maker knows what else would be interested in a petty human war. They'd never laid their lives down for a human cause."
Aedan cocked his head with a half smirk. "Fair point. You didn't answer my question though."
"Why? Did you want to be assassinated?" Cauthrien eyed him incredulously.
"Not at all, but I was a threat to Loghain, your leader. Why wouldn't you want to stop me by any means necessary?"
"Because how would that have made us any better?" Cauthrien snapped. "Loghain told us that the Grey Wardens had orchestrated Cailan's death, that you had assassinated him by worming your way into the king's good graces before cutting him down at Ostagar." Cauthrien shook her head wearily and moved over to sit on a nearby bench. "By sending an Antivan Crow after you Wardens, we were doing exactly the same thing."
Aedan moved over to sit beside the knight. "Cauthrien, be honest with me. You knew that Loghain was lying all along didn't you? About Ostagar at the very least, you were there too. You saw the battle with your own eyes."
Ser Cauthrien turned an appraising eye to Aedan. She then turned her gaze to the ground.
"I knew." She murmured quietly. "I knew he wasn't telling me the whole truth. He wasn't telling Ferelden the whole truth. But I believed that he was doing what was best for Ferelden, at the very least." She turned to look into Aedan's eyes, her gaze steely, resolute and somehow a little sad all at once. "I still believe that he thought he was doing right by Ferelden. He was wrong, in what he did and how. I accept that, but he was not motivated by greed or a lust for power."
Aedan thought to the uncomfortable truths he'd discovered during Loghain's rule over Denerim, the abduction of nobles, the selling of elven citizens to slavers: Hardly the acts of a benevolent nationalist just trying to save his kingdom. Yet Aedan didn't raise them. He knew a grieving woman when he saw one. What purpose would it possibly serve to rip open wounds that had barely started to heal?
"You think I'm a fool." Cauthrien said when Aedan didn't immediately reply.
"No, not at all."
"Well, then you're one of the few." Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
Aedan wasn't sure what to say to that.
Cauthrien seemed to accept his silence with a nod and a ghost of a smile before standing and walking away. No hint of fatigue plagued her gait.
xxx
Anora gripped her chin between an elegant finger and thumb. Her brow was furrowed somewhat as she glared slightly at the letters and reports in front of her. A myriad of problems presented themselves before her like a mosaic of woe. Lords, ladies, the clergy and anyone else of note were vying for her favour, appealing for aid or else just making a nuisance of themselves. It was something she was well used to.
Anora sighed lightly and rubbed at her eyes. She could feel a headache coming on. The day to day running of Ferelden was a privileged position – one she'd say she was very good at, if asked – however, that didn't mean that it didn't sometimes irritate her no end. Being Queen meant that she had more political power than anyone else in the realm. She was beloved by her people, her armies and held a measure of respect in the eyes of foreign powers. However, being Queen also meant that she was naturally the first port of call for when the Bannorn couldn't handle things themselves, when a middling pack of bandits raided a farm, or when they decided to war with each other over bridge rights or some such trivial matter.
Honestly, a pack of wild mabari would be less trouble. Anora thought with a slight sigh to herself.
The Queen picked up a few choice letters, each pertaining to reparation rights and the matter of rebuilding after the Blight. She had to start somewhere and the aftermath of that terrible conflict seemed the best place. It had been nearly a full year since the Blight had been brought to an abrupt and bloody end. While much of the destruction in Denerim had been cleaned up and property restored, the same could not be said for the rest of the kingdom. Many of the lords from the regions most affected by the Blight had claimed the Queen was subject to favouritism, that her home and seat of power received the bulk of the post-war rebuilding efforts.
Anora never deigned to deny otherwise.
It was only logical after all, that the largest, most productive and wealthiest region in the land ensure that its own stability was secure before it could come to the aid of others. Ferelden without a strong capital was weak. Anora was not naïve like Cailan, she did not doubt for one moment that Orlais still had designs on reacquiring their old province once more. Ferelden had to portray strength, even as it still reeled from the darkspawn incursion. That meant that other areas of the kingdom would have to wait to be restored. It wasn't ideal, perhaps it wasn't fair even, but it was only practical.
A soft knock at the door drew a sigh from the Queen and she picked her head up to grant entry.
The door however, creaked open of its own accord and in its place stood an all too familiar man in simple yet refined clothing. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his hair still damp from recent washing. His eyes were a dark blue that seemed to carry warmth in them. He was unmistakably, the Hero of Ferelden, the Prince-Consort of Ferelden and Anora's husband.
"Hello." Aedan said simply.
"Good evening." Anora replied curtly before turning back to her letters. "Is there something you needed?"
There was a moment of silence before Anora turned her gaze back up to her husband. Aedan stood there in the doorway still, a slight quirk of a smile to his lips. "Not as such, just … came to see you really."
Anora paused as she appraised him. She leaned back in her seat, never slouching. "I'm quite busy, so if you have no actual business …" She punctuated her point by indicating towards the door at his back before lowering her gaze once more.
Aedan however, did not appear to take the hint as she heard his soft footsteps walk around the desk to her side. Feeling a vein in her head pulsate, Anora slowing raised her head to glare at her husband.
"Is there something I can help with?" Aedan offered, all smiles.
"No. Thank you." Anora clipped, not bothering to feign a smile.
"That's a lot of paperwork you know."
"I'm well aware." Anora replied, her voice deceptively calm. "I'm perfectly capable of dealing with it all, as long as I am spared any further unnecessary interruptions."
She heard Aedan chuckle softly at her side.
Anora paused in her writing. She placed her quill back in its inkwell and turned her head up to glare at her husband. "And precisely what is so funny?"
"Nothing, sorry I just- Well, I just found that comment … rather endearing?"
Anora blinked once, slowly.
"Endearing?" She muttered dryly.
The Prince-Consort and Warden-Commander's cheeks seemed to flush a little. "Well, yes. I, err … Sorry." Aedan struggled out with a grimace.
There was another long silence as the Queen regarded her husband most carefully. Normally she loathed those who couldn't behave themselves in a suitable manner, including in the way the spoke. She'd always felt that those in positions of power in particular should conduct themselves with the proper grace and decorum as befitting their station. What kind of man had she married after all? He was the son of a prominent nobleman, but she had to remind herself that he had spent nearly two years travelling the wilder parts of the kingdom on his quest to stop the Blight. Perhaps some part of the rugged lifestyle had rubbed off on him? Even so, he'd had more than enough time to readjust back to civilised society. Still, there something about his awkward demonstration that made Anora refrain from using her typically sharp tongue. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly. She'd have to figure that out, she didn't want that to become a habit after all.
"If that is all." Anora finally decided that ignoring the Prince-Consort and simply returning her attention to her work was likely the best course of action.
"Let me help, Anora." Aedan began, helping himself to a chair at the side of the room and bringing it over so he could seat himself opposite Anora on the other side of the desk.
Anora sighed once more. Of course it couldn't be that easy. She had just opened her mouth to speak when Aedan continued.
"Look, I know that you don't really trust me." Aedan's eyes were serious now. They had a sheen to them that reminded Anora of a drawn blade. "We don't really know each other, and to be honest, I can't say that I'd blame you if you didn't trust me. I did raise an army against your father after all."
Anora involuntarily clenched her fist a little around her quill upon mention of her father. She didn't think that Aedan noticed however.
"I brought that army to your door and I assembled the Landsmeet together against your father." Aedan paused for a moment, seemingly chewing over a thought. "I wasn't the one who executed him, but I … I certainly played a hand in his death. I just want you to know that I am sorry for my role in that."
Anora said nothing or a long moment. She opted instead to regard him carefully with her piercing gaze, searching for any hint of an ulterior motive, any tell of a lie. She was almost surprised to find nothing jumping out at her.
"I agreed to support you in the Landsmeet against my father, did I not? I may have hoped that things would have turned out differently, but I always knew that my father's fate was … uncertain." Anora slowly twirled the quill between her hands in contemplation. "Do you truly think that I would have married you if I had held you responsible for my father's death?"
"Honestly? I don't know what to think." Aedan swallowed thickly, mouth seemingly dry. "I've heard that in Orlais, the nobility will say one thing to your face and be thinking three others while plotting how best to kill you."
"Well, this isn't Orlais, thank the Maker." Anora's lips quirked a little, before her brow narrowed. "Why do you say 'the nobility' as though you are not the son of one of the most notable families in the land, or even the Prince-Consort of Ferelden?"
Aedan chuckled. "I don't think I've ever thought of myself as a noble, much less a traditional nobleman."
"Oh?" Curious, Anora leaned back in her chair slightly, fingers steepled together. "And what do you mean by traditional?"
"Well, in truth, I was always much more interested in swordplay and the perks of nobility than politics. I'm sure plenty of other nobles are as well, but I never wanted to leave that part of nobility. I was more than happy living my life to the fullest and perfectly happy being the second son. I never wanted that expectation of competence being place on me that my brother had." Aedan chuckled softly. "Hell, if I'd been the one to inherit my father's lands, I'd have probably run them into the ground through sheer negligence. That's probably a stupid thing for a Prince-Consort to admit, isn't it?"
Anora almost forgot to raise her eyebrow pointedly to say 'of course it is!' through facial expression alone. She had never met anyone who could give such a frank appraisal of themselves, certainly no one who had held any kind of power in their lives. As she knew well, keeping hold of your power was often more difficult than getting it in the first place. To willingly show any sort of weakness was anathema to her. It was just so disarming to see it first-hand from the man who had almost singlehandedly saved Ferelden from the horror of the Blight. How had he excelled as he had with this sort of attitude and demeanour?
"If it's not a stupid question …" Anora began pointedly. "Why did you agree to this union if you had no interest in politics?"
Aedan's gaze fell away from her face as he contemplated for a moment. "I honestly think this is the best outcome for Ferelden. If we can work together, surely we can make a strong, stable Ferelden."
"Don't give me that tripe." Anora almost spat with a slight shake of her head. "It's just the two of us here, so be honest with me. What do you get out of this arrangement? The kingdom's tight on coin as it is, so it couldn't possibly to spend the land's riches away. Not that I'd let you do anything so foolish. So what is it you're after?"
To his credit, Aedan held her gaze throughout her little tirade. He continued to do so for a silent while after. Anora wondered if she'd finally see him crack, if she'd finally see just who and what the man beneath the armour and behind the legends truly was.
"In truth, I was a poor noble, a very poor noble." Aedan began quietly. "I didn't care at all for the people who slaved away to make my life easy. I spent all my days practicing with a sword, going on hunts or playing some daft game or other. By nights, I'd spend them drinking away in a tavern or lying in bed with a serving girl or two." Aedan leaned back in his seat a little, eyes focussed far off in thought. "Then, the Blight happened. Everything I knew, every creature comfort I'd had was torn away from me and I had to learn how to truly survive for the first time in my life. You probably already know what happened next, I travelled the country – with Alastair and the others of course – and somehow, we managed to convince the elves, the dwarfs, mages and people from all over this kingdom to follow an arrogantly naïve noble's second son and his ragtag band of friends. Somehow, we managed to build an army to challenge the Blight. I still don't know how that all happened, truth be told."
"The threat of impending doom must have helped sway them." Anora quipped.
"True." Aedan smiled. "Maybe that's all it really was in the end. Regardless, I went out to meet these people, elves, dwarves and mages alike. I managed to convince each of them that I wasn't trying to take advantage of them, and recruited them to our cause. At some point along the way, I think I realised just how naïve and childish I had been before all this happened. I realised, I could do better. Those people who joined up with me – everyone who fought and everyone who gave their lives against the darkspawn whether human, elf, dwarf, mage or any other – they deserve better than having another 'young me' leeching off of their livelihoods, living the easy life while they struggle just to survive … That probably all sounds pretty pretentious, but part of the reason I want to make this union of ours work to make up for past mistakes."
"Noble words." Anora said quietly, gauging him with critical eyes. "You really do feel for the people, don't you?"
Aedan nodded slightly, more to himself than to her. "Yes, I think I do. Is that a problem?"
Anora shook her head immediately. "Not at all, in fact, I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure you'll find that many think me cold, but I too care for my people. It's just rare to see such a belief held so earnestly, as you do. It's … refreshing."
Aedan almost looked taken aback. He quickly recovered and smiled at her most warmly. It was an endearing smile.
Anora quickly continued. "Still, you must know that you're hardly the first nobleman to have spent more time worrying about his own liquor cabinet more than his people's grain supplies. I'm sure there are plenty of cautionary tales in history. Even some who've been on a similar transformation as you have." She indicated the bookshelf to the side of the room, loaded high with heavy tomes.
"True, I suppose I've just had a more abrupt transformation than most."
"Perhaps." Anora inclined her head slightly. "Or perhaps you are giving yourself too little credit. There weren't many who took the fight to the darkspawn until they were literally baying at the city gates."
"If only more had done so sooner." Aedan's eyes focussed off onto something Anora couldn't see. "We might have been able to beat the Blight back earlier."
"If we had understood the true threat of the Blight, I assure you we would have acted sooner."
Aedan turned his gaze back to her. "I wasn't trying to blame you."
"And I wasn't insinuating that you had." Anora almost snapped at him, more in frustration at her sudden defensiveness more than the suggestion, before she softened her words. "Though you are right, I do wish many things were done differently. We may have been able to save Denerim from the worst of the fighting. We lost so many people …" Then, she took a deep breath. "Enough talk of the Blight. It is over. We cannot dwell on it forever. We have a brighter future ahead of us. We will make Ferelden stronger than before. Anyway, you were saying?"
Aedan smiled before continuing, though Anora wasn't sure why. "Well, if nothing else, I love this country just as much as you do. I too want to make it stronger, I'm sure we can do that. You know how to run a kingdom, and-"
"And you know how to defend her?" Anora cut in with a hint of a knowing smile.
Aedan smiled in reply. "Seems like a match made in heaven, if we can avoid driving each other mad of course."
The Queen allowed herself a chuckle at that.
"And I- well …" Aedan tailed off with a murmur.
Anora raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well? Go on."
"Well, I suppose … how could I possibly turn down the chance at marrying the beautiful Queen?" Aedan smiled, slightly mischievous and also a little embarrassed as well.
Anora let out a sigh, and he was doing so well. "Flattery will get you nowhere."
Aedan's lips twitched into another smile before the steel returned to his eyes. "I meant what I said. I want to do better, to be better for Ferelden, and I want to work with you, Anora. Let me prove that to you."
Anora regarded him for a long moment. Then, her gaze fell down back to the pile of letters and documents compiled on her desk. She leaned forward slightly and picked one out.
"You won't thank me." The Queen promised with the slightest hint of a smirk as she offered the small slip of paper towards the Prince-Consort. "Bann Thorald is a particularly prickly one to deal with."
Aedan smiled back with a chuckle as he reached for the paper. "After the Archdemon, I'm sure Bann Thorald only poses a mediocre threat."
"Famous last words." Anora muttered under her breath as returned her attention to the letter she had been working on.
"Anora?"
Anora reluctantly picked her head up to look once more at her often interrupting husband. She found another warm smile on his face, one that seemed oh so genuine, not at all practiced like the ones she often saw in court.
"Thank you." Aedan half nodded, then turned his gaze down to the letter his hands.
Anora let herself be faintly amused when Aedan's brow fell into a scowl as he read the full diatribe that was Bann Thorald's latest correspondence. Aedan's interruption hadn't been a complete waste of time then.
The Queen once again returned to writing her replies, her Prince-Consort across the desk from her, quietly working as well to the faint sound of quills scratching paper.