Dragon Age
"The Relic"

Chapter Twenty Three: Orlais

Bree's escort was Michel and two Templars, most of the Templars were angry with her after what she had done but Galen and Leanna did their duty as instructed. They were both from the Anderfels and recommended by Cullen. Michel was quiet, more so then normal.

"Is everything alright, Michel?" she asked and he huffed pulling his grey stallion up.

"No, it's not," he snapped back, "we're out here because of you. Anders is dead and Malcolm will never be the same because of you."

Harsh, even for Michel's patented tough love. "Michel, I-…"

Michel cut her off. "I love you, Bree, like my own but you have to learn that what you do has consequences. And Malcolm gets to pay for them this time."

"I didn't mean for that to happen."

"And the Relic? Did you not mean for that to happen as well?" he snapped tapping Ardoise's side to move forward.

Bree still didn't have a good explanation for that. Not one that anyone would understand. It was hard to put feelings into words especially when it was this confusing. The Relic was dangerous, Solas was dangerous, but he'd also helped her and Malcolm. She couldn't explain why she'd given it to him. "That's…complicated."

Michel scoffed loudly and shook his head. "It's always complicated," he spat. "Any situation can be complicated if you try hard enough but you don't give the weapon of mass destruction to the man who wants to use it to destroy the world. Thom was right to want to keep you in that cell."

"Well, if you feel that way then why are you here?"

"Because you may not be my blood but you are my daughter so you're my responsibility," he answered curtly and Bree glowered, she wanted to snap back at him but she bit her tongue.


Michel hadn't seen the Royal Palace in almost 20 years. The last time he was there he was still the bodyguard and Champion for Celene. By all rights he should be dead, Gaspard started a civil war and chased Celene, Briala, Falassan, and himself across Orlais. Things didn't go the precise way that Gaspard planned but the person who was absolutely ruined had been Michel. Briala called in her favor at the worst time and left Michel with nothing. He was stripped of rank and honor and all but expelled from the court. Gaspard knew his true parentage but because Michel showed him how honorable he was Gaspard had kept it to himself. Michel was the only man to ever beat him in single combat and Gaspard recognized that despite him being Elf-blooded. He went back to the Academie but it felt strange, like he was still in a masquerade about who he was. He didn't like being back in the palace. He still felt the failure and betrayal. He'd let Celene down and hadn't there when she was murdered.

The polished marble, murals, and gold brought back the familiarity…nothing had changed with Gaspard's rule. He'd spent so much time here it was hard to shake Celene's ghost. "Michel, are you alright?" Bree asked seeing how hesitant he was.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah."

"How long since you've been back?" she asked. Bree knew the story, knew his past, that he was Elf-blooded and a disgraced Chevalier. When she was little she struggled a little with other kids teasing her about her Elf mother. Michel was so kind to her. He'd taken her aside and told her that he was the same as she was. It was a bond they shared.

"20 years," he replied. "Here. Halamshiral several times..." He was still the 'disgraced chevalier' is some eyes.

Bree felt wholly out of place, she was dirty from the road and in her riding leathers. Everything in the Palace was so clean and pristine she didn't know what to do except keep her hands to herself. They were met by Gaspard – Jean looked just like him – and a blonde girl in a green gown and what Bree had come to recognize as the de Chalons family mask. That must have been Charlotte, Jean's little sister. With them was also an obvious knight in a Chevalier mask and armor that was Gaspard's heraldry on a field of purple. Michel identified him immediately as the Emperor's bodyguard and Champion.

"Ser Michel," Gaspard greeted and Michel bowed and his eyes moved to Bree. "Lady Bree, welcome to Val Royeaux."

She blushed as the Emperor bowed to her and she returned it with a smile. "Thank you, Your Grace." Michel cringed briefly to the incorrect form of address. He was the Emperor not a Duke, it should have been your majesty.

Gaspard simply smiled and continued. "May I present my daughter, the Princess Charlotte and my personal guard, Ser Cedric de Rouen. We have chambers set aside for you and a feast planned later this evening."

Michel still remembered how to do a courtly bow and offered one to the Princess, she blushed and smiled. Bree's bow was terrible and Gaspard chuckled. Charlotte sneered.


Gaspard's smoking room used to be one of Celene's studies. Michel remembered it but liked the rustic study the Gaspard had designed over the clean and bright regal marble that dominated Celene's rooms. This smoking room also led to Gaspard's private study, he got the feeling that not many people were invited back here. Most private smoking rooms and studies were only offered to those who were more than just an acquaintance.

"Smoke?" Gaspard offered and Michel shook his head. He'd never liked the smoke but accepted the Brandy that was offered. "How does it feel to be back?"

Michel sipped the high quality Brandy and sat down where Gaspard offered. "Lot of ghosts," he replied quietly.

Gaspard had always liked Michel, he was quiet, honorable, and one of the best swordsmen he'd ever seen. "In 20 years you haven't ventured further than Halamshiral, haven't even come back to the Academie…and now you're here with Gabriella."

"Bree," Michel corrected but understood what Gaspard was driving at. "She's…she's had a rough go of it lately. Being taken by Solas, and then rescued…she went out without permission and got into even more trouble with her friend Malcolm."

"Anders' son?"

Michel nodded and continued through the interruption. "Yeah. Anders is dead now, died trying to clean up with mess. But the worst part is that Bree went behind everyone and gave Solas the Relic found in the Deep Roads. The one that Solas attacked Vigil's Keep to find."

Gaspard exhaled a cloud of smoke and cocked his head. That was a lot to take in at once. "Why would she do that?"

Michel took another drink and shrugged. "Not sure. She doesn't have a good explanation for it."

"So why is she here?"

"You sent her an open invitation to Val Royeaux."

Gaspard cleared his throat. "To get to know the girl my son loves not to harbor a rebel."

Michel gave him strange look. At least Gaspard understood the situation. "We had to get her out of Skyhold otherwise some would take offense to the idea that she wasn't imprisoned," he explained. "Her mother agreed to let her come here so long as I came with her."

Gaspard took a drink then a smoke. He was thinking, thinking about the impact of her behavior and what it would have on her relationship with Jean. Some would consider her a traitor. She was already a hard sell for being an Elf-blooded mage. "So you bring her here to keep her out of Skyhold and prevent a division in the Inquisition?"

"Partly.

"Is she still bound to him?"

Michel took another drink. "According to her, no, he removed the mark once he had what he wanted."

"Do you believe her?"

"On that, yes," he answered and put the glass down. "There's something more to it I just don't know what it is."

"How so?"

"Something about it just doesn't add up…too thin. Plausible explanation but still…strange," he clarified and Gaspard was quiet.


Bree's room at the Palace was bigger than even her mother's chambers in Skyhold. Everything in Val Royeaux seemed over-done and grand and Bree marveled at the sheer size of the palace, even in the Royal Family Wing it was huge. She dropped her bag and went to explore, her Templars an ever present shadow. She liked them both, they were kind to her but they had a mission: to prevent her from doing something stupid again.

The palace seemed busy, busier than she had expected but it seemed that there was more happening then just the dinner taking place this evening. Bree found Charlotte issuing orders like a prim and proper lady. Charlotte was blonde, 5'4", with brown eyes, and a petite figure, her hair was long and cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, the mask she wore was sleek and flattering, Bree couldn't figure out how anyone could wear those every day. Michel has always told her he hated them but it became a habit.

"Highness," Bree greeted with a bow as her Templars held position a good distance away.

Charlotte was a year younger than she and gave her a side eye glance before giving an order in Orlesian to a servant. "You should really master the curtsy."

"My mother never did," she shrugged. "Is it always this busy?"

Charlotte wasn't sure what to make of Bree. She'd heard her brother talk endlessly about her but she was just some backwater noble. Barely even a noble really; her title was scion of House Pavus, the heir to a very well-known and upper class noble house in Tevinter. "Most days yes, but this is for the party in a few days."

"What's the party for?" Bree asked knowing full well that Orlesians didn't need much of a reason to throw a party.

"The graduating class of Chevaliers," Charlotte answered. "Father and my brother have a soft spot for them and it gives me an excuse to throw a party."

"When is it?"

"After the Fall Contest."

"Fall Contest?"

"Every fall the Academie holds a contest for students past and present. According to my brother it's like a final exam," she explained but was beginning to sound annoyed. "I'm sure my father will extend an invitation for you and Ser Michel."

"Well, that would be fine but I've nothing to wear to a party," Bree said, all she really had was riding leathers and her armor. That was all she'd really brought, even at Skyhold she didn't have lot of dresses.

Charlotte paused and actually gave her a smile. "Well, that…I can help with."

It turned out the Jean wasn't actually at the Palace and wouldn't be there until the next day, according to Gaspard he was at the Academie training with the rest. He spent most of his time in Halamshiral or Verchiel, really the only time he was in Val Royeaux was for something like the contest or if he'd been summoned. Bree was disappointed that Jean wasn't there but after the feast all she wanted to do was sleep.


The full armor contest was a week that the Chevaliers, no matter who they were, absolutely loved. Students, instructors, and past graduates could all participate but it was mostly to test the young ones.

Jean sat on Mau lined up with Etienne and a red haired Chevalier named Julien. They were all in full armor – horses and knights – because that's how Chevalier's trained. It really sucked in summer but in the fall being stuck in layers of padding, chain mail, and, some variant of metal for hours felt much better.

The Gauntlet, the obstacle course, tested horsemanship, precision, and accuracy. It was run individually, timed, and the person who came in under time and hit the most targets, won. The object was to do it all.

Jean watched Navarro run the course in full armor with his fine mare Rose. Navarro was the odd man out, as it were, among the chevaliers; half Rivaini…and a bastard. When Jean and Etienne came to train with the Chevaliers they met Julien and Navarro. Navarro was the toughest of them all given his parentage and Julien was an Orlesian noble and acted like one.

"Damn, that's a good horse," Etienne commented as they watched Navarro and Rose go. The chestnut mare was by far the finest warhorse at the Academie and the envy of everyone that wasn't Navarro.

Jean had to agree, the Anderfel Coursers were rare and magnificent. "Let's just hope he stays on this time…remember the last time he did this?" Jean added and the group chuckled.

Etienne chuckled. "He and Rose took that tumble…he's lucky he had armor on."

Navarro finished the course and came back to them with a puffing mare. "I think they made that course harder," he grumbled and removed his helm.

A blonde chevalier with greying hair and a full beard marked off a tablet. "Navarro, finished the course ten out of twelve and under time." Ducet was his father's military advisor, General, and instructor with the Academie. He was a decorated knight and the General present when Jean won his first battle. "No bonus for keeping your horse upright this time."

The three laughed as Navarro dropped his head at the ribbing of his brothers.

Jean caught movement from the right and saw his father, Michel, and Bree. He knew she was coming but wasn't sure when she would arrive. Seeing Bree made him smile and he tuned out Ducet's words, he didn't know how long he's tuned him out but he was watching Bree from a distance.

"Jean-Fredric!" Ducet's voice cut in and he snapped to attention.

"Sir!" Jean replied in his conditioned response to his father's greatest General.

Ducet wasn't stupid, he knew that Bree was there. "You want to show off your for lady, do it out there. You're next," the General said and the mention of a lady drew the attention of his friends. They all looked, peered, and stood up in the stirrups.

Jean blushed and slapped his visor closed. As he moved off the others got a look at Bree.

"Wow," Navarro commented. He was seeing her from a distance and she was gorgeous. "I can see why he wanted to stay in Skyhold."

Julien was somewhat less impressed. "Please, she's Elf-blooded and a Mage," he scoffed.

Navarro shook his head. "You don't see beauty in anything do you?"


Bree watched the proceedings, according to Gaspard and Michel they were training for the fall contest. There were clusters of Knights but she spied Jean on his roan and guessed Etienne was next to him on the flashy murky bay. If there was anyone else she knew down there she couldn't tell with them being in full armor.

The knight who'd just finished the course pulled his helm off revealing a mop of curly black hair and olive colored skin. It wasn't the knight she was admiring, it was his horse. The big chestnut was without a doubt an Anderfel Courser. Rare horses in the south.

Bree watched Jean kick Mau into a canter and run the course. She'd kill to run it and grinned watching him. "Oh that looks like fun," Bree grinned.

"It is fun," Michel agreed smiling and Gaspard clapped his shoulder.

"You're welcome to give it a go, Ser Michel."

Michel thought about it. He hadn't done the gauntlet in years. His time at the Academie was the happiest of his life…until the Inquisition took him. He missed it.

"What do you say Cedric?" Gaspard asked his body guard.

The quiet guard hadn't spoken much in her presence but she'd be lying if she didn't like his deep voice. "Oh I'll be competing," he replied and smiled.

"Wish I could compete," Bree muttered and the three chuckled. The Academie would implode. Orlais was not the most progressive nation.

It wasn't his best time ever but he completed the course with all targets hit and slightly over the time. He and Mau had a miscommunication which slowed them down. Mau was never a speedy horse so he wasn't expecting to set the course record. Etienne would do that.

Jean slowed Mau to a stop by his father and dismounted, removing his helm and bowing to Bree. It was a surprising move as he was the higher rank and he bowed to her. "Ma bichette," he greeted with a smile. He wanted to kiss her but maintained his decorum. "Welcome to Val Royeaux."

This was the first time she'd seen him without a mask. Jean was extremely handsome and Bree felt her heart flutter. "Thank you," she blushed and stepped up kissing his cheek. "So that's what you look like under that mask." Michel cleared his throat and she stepped back. Jean blushed and his brothers in arms laughed and whistled.

"Ser Michel," Jean acknowledged. "Father."

Gaspard liked to see his son happy but was still not clear on what he was going to do about Bree and her unusual behavior lately. "You hit all the targets but you made several errors," he critiqued and Jean snorted.

It was just like his father to critique him so he wasn't too upset about it. "They make that course harder every year," he said as Etienne headed off for his turn. On the Gauntlet it usually came down to Etienne and Julien as Muir and Jacques were the fastest horses of their group.


Jean occupied several rooms in the Palace although he did spend more time at Halamshiral then he did here. All things being equal, he'd rather be in Verchiel, at home where he grew up. Bree poked around, it was decorated like the rest of the palace, not much personal flare.

He took his mask off and rubbed his face like his face itched and observed her. Something was wrong and he'd heard lots of rumors. "You okay?" he asked and she turned to him.

She sighed heavily. "What have you heard?"

Jean approached her with that look, the coy look of amusement and sincerity. "I don't care what I've heard. What's going on?"

"I have been the world's greatest idiot lately," she admitted and couldn't help but feel better. It felt better to not justify the impossible, the admit that she'd fucked up, and however directly or indirectly, was responsible for Anders' death and subjecting Malcolm to something that would change him forever.

"I don't believe that," Jean assured and brushed her cheek with his right hand.

She chortled. "You don't understand…I made a huge mistake and chased it with another-…"

"Bree," he began and tried to pull her into a comforting embrace but she pushed away, "everyone makes mistakes."

"That's easy for you to say, you're a Prince."

Jean laughed, cackled really. "You think I haven't made a mistake? I'm a Prince, Bree, not the Maker."

"Did you get your best friend's father killed? Or give someone a weapon of mass destruction?" she snarked back and Jean sighed. He had his own demons and skeletons but he didn't want to play the 'who fucked up worse' game with her. He was smart enough to realize it wasn't going to help.

"Bree…" he sighed nearly begging for her to relax, "please, come on."

She ignored him and folded her arms across her chest. "You know…Malcolm is the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, he's taken the heat for me with trouble we used to get in, he didn't care if we both got in trouble, we even got halfway to Redcliffe once before realizing how far we'd ridden." Jean listened, he admitted he didn't know Malcolm that well but the brief time he'd seen them together he could see the bond. "I went to Anders for help, then against all reason I went to Solas. Anders sacrificed himself to save his son," she said.

He moved closer to her and tried not to patronize. It was hard when you wanted to help but knew the other party did make a huge mistake. "You can't control everything, Bree. It was an accident…not your fault."

The same old platitude…it irritated her. "Malcolm blames me. Lily blames me...and so does Michel."

"I'll have him flogged."

Bree laughed. "Oh please let me be there to see you try that," she said and Jean was happy to get a chuckle out of her. "Did you know Thom threw me into the dungeon after I gave Solas the Relic?" she went on. "He threw me into the dungeon and I actually didn't mind being there. Then my father stormed in and nearly lit the place on fire."

Jean smiled, he couldn't help it. "Well, that sounds like him."

"I've known Thom since before I can remember…I've never seen him so pissed off at me. I don't know why I did it. I really don't. The more I try and justify it the more I talk myself out of it…I should have just dealt with him in my dreams for the rest of my life." It hurt to have earned so much ire from people she'd known for so long.

Jean sighed and took her by the hand guiding her to the couch. "Bree," he began and sat down on the couch. "I want you to forget about all of this. That doesn't make it go away but if you keep going over it and over it all it will do is make things worse." She leaned back into him and let him wrap his arms around her. She felt like she was back in Free Marches with him after the rescue from Solas. "You're in Orlais now, ma bichette, never you worry. I don't care what you've done, you're here with me and that's all that matters."

She had to admit that she felt better than she had in weeks. And guilty. She'd caused such a stir in Skyhold and then ran off to Orlais although she did as Jean asked and let it go…for now. "Tu es ma joie de vivre," she heard him said softly as he combed his left fingers through her hair.

Bree turned over in his arms. "Je t'amie," she replied making him chuckle. Her Orlesian accent was awful but he understood and she kissed him.

There they lay, on his couch in the Palace occasionally kissing but mostly spending time together. She told him all about what had happened, he didn't judge, toss blame, or curse…he simply listened and offered his own input. "Every mess can be cleaned up," he said. "Blights. Wars. Plots. It's all fixable…and I will do everything in my power to fix it all for you."

She wanted to fall asleep there, snuggled on the couch with her head on his chest but he saw to it that she didn't and escorted her back to her chambers when the bell rang for midnight. Michel was still awake and stood when she appeared with Jean.

"Where've you been?" he asked in a sharp tone that rang of a demand.

"With Jean," she answered quickly.

Michel turned red and had the fatherly urge to punch the Prince but resisted it. Jean held up his hand in a placating manner. "I was a perfect gentleman, on my honor." Michel didn't have anything to add that he felt comfortable saying and let the anger subside.

Bree removed herself from the tension building between the two Chevaliers. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed," she announced and kissed Jean's cheek with a smile then Michel's which in turn made him smile. He was upset and disappointed with her but he loved her all the same.

"Good night, Highness," he said with a bow and turned to leave.

"Ser Michel," Jean began causing Michel to stop and turn back toward him, "she's been through enough. You being angry at her isn't going to help. Bear that in mind." He walked away before the Chevalier could respond, a disrespectful sign to someone of a lower class. Jean didn't care about his response, he said his peace and left it at that.

Michel wasn't sure if the Prince was right or it was the conditioned response that was triggered by being back in the Palace but he bit his tongue keeping his rebuttal to himself. Not that Prince seemed to care what it was.


Jean was looking forward to the contest at the Academie, more than he usually did. There wasn't a student there that didn't like showing off or trying to beat an alumnus. No one student ever won each event but a few came close. He nodded to Cedric as he passed him on his way to his father's study. "Cedric."

"Highness," Cedric acknowledged.

"You wanted to see me, father?" Jean asked as he found his father scribbling out a message at his desk. When Jean spoke he put the quill down and gave his son his full attention.

"You seem happy."

"I am," he replied with a smile. "The contest is tomorrow. Bree is here…it's all perfect."

Gaspard winched. "She's had a rough time lately."

Jean nodded with a bit of a shrug. "I know. I spoke to her about it."

He sighed heavily and then stood. He really didn't want to do this but the potential consequences were too great for the Empire. "I cannot let you marry her," Gaspard said in a quick and blunt fashion. There was no part of this that was going to end well. Jean was so happy and was now about to be very angry.

The smile vanished from his son's face and the look he didn't want to see was found. "Excuse me?"

Gaspard sighed again. "She betrayed the Inquisition."

Jean couldn't argue with that fact. She did give Solas a weapon. "I don't care," he decided and Gaspard scoffed.

"Clearly," his father commented. "She's a mage and Elf-blooded…already difficult for the people to accept."

"The people? Or the Council?"

"Bah, I care not about those strutting peacocks?"

"You then?"

Gaspard was affronted by the inference. "Be careful, Jean-Fredric," he warned using his son's full name. "She doesn't think before she acts. Giving Solas that Relic is something that could cost Orlais everything."

Jean laughed. A single 'ha' that was neither amusing nor respectful. "How is that any different then what you've done?"

Gaspard's gave his son a hostile glare. "I beg your pardon?" he growled.

"Your first wife killed Celene's parents, you started the War of Two Lions, your sister murdered Celene …and you're worried about the woman that I've chosen to marry," Jean challenged and Gaspard straightened. His son was not wrong.

"Enough," he ordered but Jean ignored it.

"The only reason you are even on the throne is because of her mother!" he shouted angrily. "Your kingdom would crumble without the Inquisition and you know it!"

"You hold your tongue, Boy!" Gaspard shouted over top of him and Jean took a half set closer to his father.

"No! I won't!" he barked back. "You brought her into my life! You can't take her away from me now!"

His son was right. Jean didn't really like any of the other ladies he was presented with. He didn't really want to go to Skyhold either but when he met Bree his attitude changed. Gaspard wasn't proud of pulling the rug from under him. "Jean-Fredric,"

Jean was now on a tirade. "I have done everything you've asked of me. I've trained, I learned, fought, led, and played the diplomat. My first military victory didn't come over Tevinter or Nevarra but over my own people! I slaughtered my countrymen for YOU," he yelled and Gaspard had had enough.

"Jean-Fredric, enough from you now!" he shouted back and his son finally fell silent. He saw Cedric peering in to check. Jean glared and Gaspard waved him away. The Chevalier nodded and left.

"He afraid I'll kill you?" Jean hissed.

"Be quiet, Jean-Fredric," his father snapped back. "You fail to see bigger picture. She is a mage, she is Elf-blooded, her father is a magister, and her mother is Dalish. Difficult but possible. Once word gets out that the woman you have chosen as your bride betrayed us all, they will rebel. The Council will be up in arms and the rest will follow."

Jean was pacing. The fuming anger that he was famous for was very prevalent. "I will replace every last member," he growled with an evil cackle.

Gaspard rolled his eyes. His son was by far the most stubborn person he'd ever met… of course the same could be said for him. Sabine accused him of being the same on more than one occasion. "Will you stop being a fool, young man? You have no idea what you are talking about," he scolded. "You cannot marry her. I will not allow it."

Jean ignored it. "I will marry her if she'll have me and you cannot stop me."

"Jean-…"

"I don't need your permission," he interrupted. "I am willing to fight her father I will fight you as well."

Gaspard never expected this to go smoothly but seeing Jean so angry and adamant about this was not what he had expected to be honest. "Jean," he warned, his son was dangerously close to crossing a line.

Jean shook his head. "We are done," he decided. "After the contest I will return to Halamshiral…with Bree." He turned and walked away and Gaspard felt a flare of his temper.

"Jean," he snarled, "do not walk away from me, boy." Jean ignored it and kept walking. If he wanted to stop him he was welcome to try. Gaspard was left alone in the study trying to pinpoint where that went to hell.


Jean hadn't spoken to his father since their fight. In fact, he hadn't spoken to anyone but Etienne who asked him if he was feeling well. He replied with a curt grunt and his friend left him alone. Unlike the Starkhaven tournament this was much lower key. It wasn't for the nobility or commoners to come and watch. It was training. Not show. Of course the students and alumni made it fun. Family members and honored guests were invited but that was all.

Horses and knights were in full barding…it was quite the sight as they were all prepared for the jousting, the melee, and the race course. Jousting was first. Etienne and Jean loved the jousting.

Jean cantered Mau up the railing to the audience and stopped at Bree sitting near his father. He didn't look at his father and flipped the visor on his helm up. "My Lady," he said bowing to her from horseback.

"Jean-Fredric!" a voice boomed from further down. "It's not a Tourney! Get your ass back in the lists!" Ducet shouted. "You want to honor your lady, do it out there!"

Bree blushed and Jean sighed heavily with a smile. He could hear others in the lists chuckling. "Love you," He winked and moved away.

"Have you asked her yet?" Etienne asked as Jean trotted into place next to him.

"Not yet," He replied and Etienne grinned taking his meaning that he was going to. He grinned but the idea that she was an Elf-blooded mage with ties to Tevinter did make him worry.

The graduating class was allowed to compete and select others from the student body. The contest was difficult and made even more difficult with past graduates who kept in practice. De Rouen competed every year, great at all three events, the big surprise here was Michel, however. After so long the aging Chevalier decided to actually compete. Jean, Etienne, Navarro, and Julien were barrack mates and had been since they all landed at the Academie. They were a good team despite their differences. Of them, Navarro and Jean were the best jousters.

As they started through the order Jean found himself facing Cedric de Rouen, his father's bodyguard. Cedric wore unique armor…it was black and resembled the scales of a dragon, the helm had swept back wings like a dragon and his Amaranthine Charger, Rook, had matching black armor also resembling dragon scales. Cedric de Rouen of Val Firmin, also known as The Black Knight, looked like a demon. Jean hated jousting against him. Cedric may have been very low nobility but he was damn good at war and combat.

His appearance had the desired effect on all his opponents, even Jean, and he'd known him for years. This black armor wasn't his usual attire, this was for war and occasional contest. Desired effect or not Jean could beat him and had beaten him in the past. Today was no different. Cedric hit him once but Jean nearly unhorsed him when the lance glanced up his chest and clobbered him in the neck.

Navarro was always fun to watch, the Duke of Sahrina received no respect from a lot of the Chevaliers because of his blood but he proved that he was every bit as good as, or better, than the rest. Before his tilt he rode up to the railing handing Charlotte a rose. He'd had a crush on the Princess for a while now and he gently tried to show it once in a while. "For you, My Lady." He bowed to the Princess and heard Ducet roll his eyes.

Charlotte blushed, stood, and took the rose from him. "You're too kind, Lord Navarro, thank you."

Ducet didn't yell at him like he did with Jean since the Princess was involved. He didn't mind yelling at Jean, he'd been doing it since he was 10 and Jean always did something to earn it. Navarro generally didn't. He may not have yelled at Navarro but his pointed glare from the back of his horse was enough to tell the love struck Duke to get back in the lists and get this show on the road.

His first opponent was Etienne, who he handedly defeated but not because Etienne was a poor jouster…Navarro was just that good. The rest of the joust went by quickly, this wasn't a Tourney, it wasn't for show. It was like an exam but without the grades. You won or you lost. You were critiqued, praised, and you learned.

The final two were Navarro and Jean, the two best jousters the Academie had produced in years. Jean had jousted against Navarro before, several times. Most of the time he lost to him but this time was different. This time Jean was crowned the winner of the joust but he and Navarro laughed about it the whole time. Bree liked watching him here. Jean wasn't treated like a Prince among them…he was an equal. Sure they respected him, but he was a brother here and they treated him like one.

The next event was the melee, group and single combat. Jean and the group were a well-oiled machine when they fought together. Julien Mantillon was announced as the finest swordsman the Academie had ever produced. Ever. He was graceful and elegant as a swordsman. To Bree he looked like a dancer, even in heavy armor he was light on his feet. He reminded her of Balian. Michel watched intently with Gaspard.

"He is amazing," Michel said to Gaspard while observing his nearly flawless technique, the Emperor smiled and nodded.

"That he is. That's Lady Mantillon's son." He informed and Michel looked over at him. He remembered her; she was a master manipulator, evil, and a major player of the Great Game. Gaspard had his issues with her…she was dead now which made him smile. Julien was her heir and had the same attitude that she'd had. "Julien may be a hard man to get along with but I've never seen a swordsman like him."

Surprisingly, Julien's challenger didn't come from his barrack mates or an alumnus but from a graduating student. He was probably just a few years younger than Julien but the young man was very skilled with the sword. Julien won with a move that showed he could defeat anyone in a sword fight.

"I've seen some superb swordsman in my day but none like him…I thought Balian was amazing," Michel commented.

"Bail's better," Bree declared and they gave her a brief glance. Like she was a foolish girl who didn't know what she was talking about. Balian and Julien certainly would be a fight worth watching but when Julien looked at her she felt uneasy. He didn't like her, she could tell.

The last event was the one that Bree wanted to take part in. The racecourse looked like so much fun she wanted to grab a horse and run it herself. As she had been told, Julien and Etienne had the fastest horses of their group, but this was one that Michel actually participated in…as did Cedric. They had to finish under time and, as Bree discovered, hit all the targets if you wanted to win. Missing a target was acceptable so long as no one 'one uped' you. The top time for most of the event came from a young man with an average looking Orlesian Courser and not even a graduating Chevalier. Michel closed his visor and gathered up Ardoise, the slate colored stallion shifted under him and looked strange in Chevalier barding and Michel in his Inquisition armor. Mismatched…it irritated Michel but he didn't bring Ardoise's full Inquisition armor with him.

The Gauntlet was just as he remembered. The targets had been moved, his horse was different but it was still simple enough in principle. Ardoise galloped down the path and he swung the sword first to the right with an underhand swing then crossed over Ardoise's neck and hit the upcoming target on the left. Most missed that target because it was so quick. He pressed his mount faster and hit the target higher up at head-level. The path twisted and turned, narrowed and widened, but he hit every target as they came by. Hanging targets, dummies, tall targets, and short targets, his horse jumped obstacles but Michel didn't feel the change. He focused on the path and the targets. Ardoise thundered across the line well under the time and all targets hit. Michel de Chevin, the 'Disgraced Chevalier' now pardoned, who hadn't run the Gauntlet in nearly two decades destroyed the entire field of challengers.

Bree was proud of him and her smiled proved it, Michel was proud of himself and Ardoise…the horse had never seen that course before or run it in practice.


The party at the palace was completely overdone but according to Jean, that was Charlotte's baseline. She loved the parties, both throwing them and attending them. Bree and Charlotte didn't really get along but that was mainly a difference in interests…and upbringing. Charlotte was the Princess of Orlais waiting to be married off to a suitor and live the life luxury. Bree's only claim was to the House Pavus and a potential seat in the Magisterium. Charlotte loved being catered to, waited on, and getting her way. Bree could care less about courtly life.

Her borrowed blue and black gown was snug, she had a fuller figure than Charlotte did. She didn't like borrowing the dress from her but as she was not prepared to attend a party right away it was something that had to be done. She also didn't like corsets. The bodice showed off her body to the point Jean flushed when he saw her…as did several others.

Jean's defiance toward his father was proudly displayed as he escorted Bree and was announced with her by the herald. Gaspard said nothing, his son was stubborn and he did like Bree. She was a smart girl that had done some questionable things. They all had, in that his son was correct.

She'd met many of the Chevaliers while at the Academie, watched Jean win the joust, Julien win the melee, and Michel show everyone up on the Gauntlet. Duke Etienne Arles was from Jader and clearly the talk of the court. The ladies fawned over him, and by Bree's observation, had a supreme admirer in Charlotte, however, he didn't seem to share it. He was polite to her but clearly tried to distance himself. Marquis Julien Mantillon was the red haired Chevalier that didn't seem to like her much. He sneered at her and was stiff with protocol when he addressed her. That being said, he was absolutely one of the best swordsman she'd ever seen. He was handsome and had a nice smile but his attitude sucked. The last one was Duke Navarro, the one with the horse she wanted to steal, she didn't know too much about him since he kept to himself.

"Save me," she heard someone suddenly say and Etienne appeared at her side. "Would you care to dance, Lady Bree?" he asked properly.

She accepted with confusion painted on her features. "You okay?" she asked falling into a dance.

Etienne looked partly relieved. "Oh I'm terrific," he muttered but the sarcasm was clear.

It wasn't hard to figure out. He was polite to the attention he received by the court ladies but one affection he didn't want was Charlotte's. "Running from your number one fan?"

He looked down at her and smiled. "You see it then?"

"Hard not to," she chuckled. "You don't like her?"

Charlotte was a beautiful girl, vibrant, proper, and young. Etienne would be a fool to not see it but he was not interested in marriage and especially not marriage to her. "It's not that…I don't want to marry and Jean's like a brother to me."

Bree understood and she and Etienne danced flawlessly to the adoration of the court. She even saw Jean watching his best friend dance with the woman he loved. "Well, you better figure it out she seems the sort to get her way."

Etienne groaned. Charlotte was exactly the sort to get her way, which is why he always ran. "I don't want anything to do with marriage or ruling…Jean and my brothers can keep every bit of that."

The dance ended and Bree caught the side eye from Charlotte, the Princess was not thrilled with seeing her dancing with him. Bree didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea and she moved away after Etienne politely thanked her for the dance.

On the terrace outside she found Navarro. "You dance well, My Lady," the knight said. "How do you like the Orlesian Court?"

"It's…interesting," she replied and approached him with a smile. "Skyhold is a different sort of interesting…probably less dangerous." He chuckled and removed his mask setting it on the wall then rubbing his face. "You're different from the others." Bree said and Navarro smiled with a shrug.

"That's because I've been told my entire life that I don't belong. Julien calls me a bastard and a mongrel…I call him a ginger cunt but brother's fight – so I've been told…I have two brothers. Neither one of them held me down and tried to remove my eye with a woodcarving knife."

He gestured to the unsightly scar on his left temple dangerously close to his eye. "Is that what happened?" she asked and Navarro nodded and shrugged. "Julien did that?"

Navarro shook his head, Julien was a jerk but he backed a brother when there was a need. "I fought them…gave them back the knife although not exactly where they wanted it. They all survived. Survived Ducet and Cecil's wrath…all but one survived my father and the Emperor's wrath."

She liked Navarro. "So you're a bastard?"

Navarro gave her a bow. "My father claimed me. I am Duke Navarro de Savrenne of Sahrnia…doesn't change the fact that my mother is from Rivain and a scullery maid," he said giving her a proper introduction.

Bree shrugged. She liked Navarro, liked him a lot. "Well…we are a great match then. My father is a Tevinter magister, my mother is a Dalish Elf, and I am a Mage."

Navarro looked down at her. "You and I are going to break Orlais," he said grinning and she laughed.

"So why do they rib you about the Gauntlet?" she asked as she remembered them all busting his chops about something. It all ended when Michel and Ardoise wowed them all.

Navarro looked at the ground and blushed. "Embarrassing for a Chevalier really…last time we practiced on the Gauntlet it was muddy and slick. Rose and I hit the switchback and she lost her footing in the mud. I think they thought that I was dead when we hit the ground because she rolled over the top of me."

"Ouch."

"Yeah…now I never live it down," he commented. "Will you allow me to escort you back to the Prince, My Lady?"


Jean leered, he couldn't help it. Bree was beautiful anyway, but in that dress he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Her breasts created the most delightful cleavage and the corset accented her curves. He purred with approval as he watched the sway of her hips. "You're going to kill me if you keep dressing like that," he praised.

"It's your sisters and it's too tight," she grumbled and Jean completely disagreed.

"Oh, no it's not," he said resisting the urge to haul her off to a room and make her his.

Bree blushed and rolled her eyes. "Your sister certainly likes parties."

Jean lifted his mask and vigorously rubbed his face, the damn thing itched. "Everyone has a hobby. Driving my father insane and throwing parties are hers."

"You look like you have something on your mind," she inquired and Jean did.

"My father has forbidden me to marry you."

Bree's expression fell but she could hardly say she was surprised, she'd been waiting for consequences of her questionable deeds to arrive and now they had. Jean hadn't asked her yet but his intent was clear. "Oh." It was a meek response but it was the only one that came out.

Her tone of masked heartbreak served as a reiteration for him. "I'm leaving for Halamshiral in a few days and I want you to come with me."

"Yes," she answered quickly with a bright smile.

Jean chuckled at how quickly she answered him. "Which one of us gets to tell Michel?" he asked and she giggled.

She could control Michel…or at least talk him into it. "Which one of us gets to tell your father?" she rebutted and Jean chuckled.

"I don't really care what he says," he replied.

Bree had trouble peeling the layers back on him. Jean was the good son, the dutiful heir who normally did as he was told. He loved his father, loved his country, and embraced his future that was practically written for him. Although right now he was intent on rebelling against him…for her. Exactly why he was doing that was confusing, she wasn't worth driving a wedge between him and his father. He went about like he wanted to marry her but still hasn't asked her. He'd hinted on many occasions that he was going to but hadn't as of yet.

When they danced they commanded an audience, Bree was a very skilled dance partner and despite Jean's irritation at the Game he paid attention and now realized how important those lessons had been. Bree lit up when they danced and he loved to see that. Michel watched as they floated across the dance floor to the delight of the court. Bree was a mystery to them and they accepted her to a point for now, she was a mage an Elf-blooded but she was very charming and captivating. The first wrong move she made, however, would turn them against her. Of that he was certain and it made him uneasy, he'd spoken to Gaspard and was in agreement that once people learned of her 'betrayal' their reaction would dangerous.

The ladies of court were devastated to discover that Jean was no longer on the market as a match if the way he looked at Bree was anything to go by. It was apparent that he loved her deeply. Michel and the Court weren't the only ones to see this, Gaspard did as well. The Emperor sighed heavily.

Michel was glad to see her so happy, it took his mind off it all for a moment and found that they were a perfect couple. Maybe being here was good for her…or everyone.

"Lady Bree," Gaspard interrupted as politely as possible, "may I have a moment?"

Bree nodded but Jean eyed his father. He wasn't particularly sure why his father wanted to spirit her away from him.

She was taken to the apartment wing and Jean and Michel gave each other a strange look. Gaspard stopped them outside the study and he held up a finger to stop his son and retreated inside with Bree. Jean's brows furrowed and he looked at Michel.

"Have I done something wrong, Majesty?" she asked and Gaspard shook his head as he got into a locked cabinet.

"Of course not," he replied. "I know things have been difficult for you lately…and I do offer anything that I can do to help however given the magnitude of what you did I forbade my son from pursuing your hand."

"I know," she said and paused allowing a half smile. "He told me."

"Of course he did," he said, he wasn't angry…he actually expected it really. "I've seen the way that he looks at you and you at him…and I know that I started all of this." He was reluctant to give in but he'd rather have his son as a trusted heir and ally then a resentful threat. "I wanted to give you something." He handed her a box.

Bree opened the box and found a jeweled comb, a floral design that reminded her of Lily's adorned with beautiful sapphire and diamonds but not too gaudy. "Oh wow. It's beautiful."

Gaspard smiled. "It belonged to Sabine, Jean's mother," he said and Bree suddenly didn't want to touch it for fear of breaking or damaging it. "I gave that to her on our wedding day."

Bree closed the box and handed it back. "I can't accept this."

Gaspard didn't take it and kept his smile. "Jean loves you, very much so and I know that Sabine would have approved of you. She would have loved you from the moment she met you."

It was almost heartbreaking to hear him talk of her, Gaspard had truly loved her. "How long were you married?" she asked and held the box tightly.

"One year," he answered quietly. "She never even got to see Jean before she died." Gaspard got back on track with a clear of his throat. "Please, allow me." He opened the box, removed the comb and placed it in her hair. "My son is a lucky man."

Bree blushed and it irritated her on some level that Jean hasn't actually asked her yet. He spoke about it and everyone seemed to be under the assumption he would but in reality he hadn't. "No disrespect, Majesty, but he hasn't asked me anything."

Gaspard smiled to her and pulled her into an embrace. "He will, My Dear, he will."

Michel and Jean waited patiently outside but things were tense between them. Jean was curious to see the reaction from Michel when Bree told him the plans. His bet, his hope rather, was that Michel would let her go or tag along. He liked Michel. He really did and he remembered what he was told in Skyhold. He had Michel's blessing.


It turned out, getting Michel agree to let her go to Halamshiral wasn't too difficult. He put up a fight but in the end he let it go and went with her. More than likely it was Michel's discomfort in Val Royeaux that made him agreeable.

They left Val Royeaux with a wagon of stuff and what was clearly becoming Jean's household guard or trusted advisors, Etienne, Navarro, and Julien. They also had a contingent of guards, Michel, Bree, and her Templars.

Jean had turned the Winter Palace into his own personal house; he'd already said that once he ascended to the throne this would be his seat of power. Bree remembered the Winter Palace from the times she'd attended balls and parties, she'd never met Jean though as he'd been at the Academie since he was 10. The palace was nestled in a valley and surrounded by beautiful mountains, Bree loved it.

Bree woke the next morning in a big, soft, warm bed. This was what it was like to be royalty. She stretched, dressed, and headed out into the apartment wing of the palace. It was pouring outside and she made her way toward one of the dining hall. She heard the sounds of swords clanging together.

As it was down pouring outside and had been all morning so far, the boys were bored and Jean and Etienne started sparring right there in the hall.

Bree watched Jean practice with Etienne. Jean was different around certain people she had noticed but he was the most at ease around Etienne. They grew up together and had known each other practically their whole lives. She thought of Malcolm in that way and couldn't help but think of the last time she saw him. The aftermath of her most misguided endeavor that cost Anders his life.

She saw Jean disarm Etienne who grumbled but didn't seem angry. "One of these days I'll remember that move," he griped with a chuckle from Jean and they both saw Bree watching them. "Lady Bree," Etienne greeted with a bow.

"Oh please don't do that," she replied blushing at Etienne's manners.

Etienne didn't have a mask on, she noticed they hardly ever wore them here, and admitted that he was one of the handsomest men she'd ever met. Jean and Etienne standing together were enough to make even the strongest woman swoon. Etienne looked from Bree to Jean and bowed out.

"Something I said?" she asked Jean but he was too busy committing how she looked to memory.

"No," Jean replied as if there was nothing wrong at all and tossed her the sparring sword that Etienne had. She caught it deftly and looking at him curiously. "I hear you're pretty good," he winked and she allowed a smile.

"And where'd you hear that?" she asked and with a flirty smirk. "Are you sure, your Highness?"

His grin widened and began an attack. Bree's mastery of the sword showed a very basic technique, basic but very solid, though it was plain that she would benefit greatly from additional training. Bree was very good, better than Jean was expecting but she was definitely overmatched against him.

He trapped her with her back against his chest and he had a firm hand on her sword arm. "Who taught you?" he purred in her ear with a smile that she could hear.

"Cullen and Michel in equal measure," she smiled and leaned back into him.

"Good teachers," he approved.

Michel had observed enough from the sidelines. "You continue to drop your guard, Bree," Michel critiqued.

Bree and Jean separated both blushing. Michel didn't much care about it so long as Jean remained a gentleman. "He's right," Jean agreed as Michel took the sparring sword from her.

"My guard is always up, gentleman, I'm a mage," she replied making Michel and Jean chuckle. The staff continued about their routine, apparently sparring in the hall was not new to them. Jean got bored quickly and with the weather like this he just moved the events indoors.

"Mages," Jean scoffed as Michel stepped up to challenge Jean to a spar. "One of these days magic will not be there to save you."

Bree rolled her eyes. If she had a coin for every time of her instructors had said that to her she could buy the Empire of Orlais.


Despite its size, the Winter Palace was quiet even with the pack of Chevaliers that tended to follow Jean wherever he went. Michel told her that the Prince was creating his household guard and feeling out military advisors. For the most part Bree liked them all. Etienne was quiet around her but always respectful, Navarro tended to stay out of the way but was the one that she liked talking to the most, and Julien was curt and stiffly respectful to her, like he was biting his tongue for what he really wanted to say. Bree perused the palace halls and found it devoid of most people. The boys weren't where they usually were reading correspondence to Jean, sparring, or talking so fast in Orlesian she couldn't follow the topic. She wanted to go riding and was going to ask Jean and the others if they wanted to go too but couldn't find them in the palace.

It was early, a little past sunrise and the stables were busy, very busy and by the time Bree got to there, Jean, his company, a cluster of guards, and some hounds were massing for some kind of event. She had no idea anything was planned but it seemed relaxed so Bree figured it wasn't anything bad.

Those that saw her stopped talking and gave her a bow. They'd been doing that a lot lately, she wasn't royalty and half of these people had a higher station then her so she figured they were either being polite or Jean ordered them to pay her that courtesy. Or both. "Where are you going?" Bree asked addressing Jean through his legion of fellow Chevaliers.

Jean was mounted on Mau and fiddling with his right glove. "On a hunt, mon cherie, last of the season," he answered with a happy smile. "Would you like to come?" He knew her well and knew she would enjoy a hunt. She smiled broadly matching his smile. "Julien, dismount, give her your horse."

The red haired Chevalier blinked, clearly shocked. "What?" he questioned and Etienne shot him a look that paled in comparison to the one Jean leveled at him.

"Give the lady your horse, now." He repeated in clearly more detail.

The knight sputtered and turned red but ultimately did as commanded. He glared at Bree as she approached the black mount. The glare from Julien was unsettling but Bree mounted without aid and gathered the gelding up. The big black courser shifted under her and pawed as Julien took a few moments to adjust the stirrups with barely audible grumbling.

Jacques was a good horse with a nicer personality than Mau but just a much spirit. She felt bad for Julien and really didn't want to displace him but Jean's word was final. She'd never gone on a hunt. She'd hunted before but there was hunting and then there was a Hunt. It was pastime in Orlais.

"I have to say I kind of wish I took your horse." Bree said with a chuckle to Navarro.

Navarro patted Rose's neck and grinned. "Our illustrious, good, and benevolent future Emperor is smarter than that," he said making Jean chuckle loudly.

Bree strayed from the group heading off to the hunt. "Bree, stay close," Jean called and saw her look back at him with a smile and a wink.

"If you want me, come and get me." Bree grinned and put her heels to the gelding.

Navarro and Etienne chuckled and they saw Jean blink at her challenge. "Looks like you have a hunt all your own." Navarro laughed while the rest teased him.

Jean did grin, a grin that could be seen for miles. "Go on without me," he said. "Bree!" Jean called after her before Mau exploded into a gallop after her, he could hear her laughing as he chased. He pressed Mau faster but Julien's horse was far faster than Mau. Bree was a horsewoman, enough to make any of his Chevalier's jealous.

She galloped through the woods along the trail they were not using for the hunt, the hunt was left behind. Jean knew these woods blindfolded and in the dark but Bree trusted her instincts and Jacques. The horse leapt some downed brush and debris and Mau followed before reaching a flat spot and a meadow. She kept running and Jacques lengthened his stride, Jean followed and Mau complied trying to keep up with the faster horse. They raced across the meadow, through the woods some more, and then to clearing with a nice view of the Orlesian countryside.

She pulled Jacques up laughing happily. "He's quite the ride," Bree exclaimed with a wide smile across her face.

Mau wasn't thanking him for the sprint through the woods and his pinned ears reflected it but Jean gathered and calmed the moody stallion chuckling. "Yeah, Jacques is about the only thing I don't dislike about Julien."

Bree didn't asked where the dislike came from. "Better than Mau?"

Jean patted the roan's neck and smirked. "None are better than him."

She took in the view of green fields, foot hills, and how close the mountains were. "You didn't have to do that," she said after a moment of silence. Their sprint through the woods was fun but the hunt was all but forgotten.

"Do what? Race you?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Well, you knew I'd win that," she giggled. "No, I mean displace one of your knights."

Jean shrugged. Julien would be angry about that for weeks but Julien he could handle. "I wanted to be with you and didn't want to wait for your horse to be saddled."

She snorted loudly with a chuckle. "You're impatient."

Jean shrugged again. "Maybe." She was in black and white, with an elegant black cloak, her hair was braided and despite the fly-away parts from the race through the woods she was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. She was happiest here. "You're beautiful."

She blushed and smiled, she had windblown hair and her face was red from the cold air on her face. "Jean, please…"

"Marry me," he asked and side-passed Mau next to her. Her eyes went wide as he caught her off guard with the question. She couldn't form an actual word and he chuckled lightly. "I know I caught you off guard but you're just too beautiful right now," he said placing a silver diamond ring in her palm. "Marry me, Gabriella." He was lucky, most royals didn't get to marry for love. He was lucky just to have the chance.

She pulled the glove off her left hand slipped the ring on her finger. "Yes," she said, a huge and happy smile spread across her face. "Yes, yes, and yes." Jean chuckled and leaned in for a kiss that she was happy to return.

Shouting and barking hounds could be heard through the woods. "Hark. I hear the hunt," she said before Jean pulled away completely. "Who do you think won?"

He laughed. "Etienne. He always wins."

It turned out that Jean was correct. Etienne remained the king of the hunt. "Where'd you two scuttle off to?"

"A gentleman never tells," Jean replied and Etienne only chuckled.

"If he's lulled you into thinking he's a gentleman, My Lady, I'm sorry," Etienne chided and Jean shook his head at the lighthearted ribbing.

"Bichette, they are all liars," he told her.

"I wouldn't make her too angry…looks like she rides better than the rest of us," Navarro warned and she chuckled.

"I could teach you boys some time," they laughed and Jean grinned.


Bree was on a cloud when it came time for her to dismount at the palace. She could feel the ring under the glove and she felt like she was going to burst. She didn't need help dismounting but she got assistance anyway from Jean. "I'm going to go tell Michel," she smiled.

Julien said nothing as he watched her leave and examined his horse. He looked fine apart from his coat ripped with sweat marks. The army of grooms took the horses and a few servants took Etienne's prize.

"She better not have done anything to my horse," Julien spat as Jean splashed a few palm-fulls of water from the barrel on to his face.

"She handled your horse better than you ever could," Jean replied flatly and dried his face off before heading back to the palace.

Jean and Julien had always butted heads. Jean didn't like his pompous arrogance but he did owe Julien his life. Julien Mantillon was a good man…when he wanted to be. "Perfect. I get displaced because you want what's warm and wet between her legs. Don't get me wrong she's a tight piece and look-…"

Jean spun and belted him across the jaw with a solid, hard punch. "You watch your mouth!" he barked noticing Etienne nearby with a hand near his sword handle ready to act if needed. "If I tell you to crawl next to your horse you will do it without question and if you ever talk about her like that again I'll cut your tongue out," he snarled and glared until he got the reverence he wanted.

Julien worked his jaw as he staggered into Navarro and looked down at the ground submitting to Jean. He bowed and stayed there, the only course of action he had available…anything else would result in a fight. "My apologies, Your Highness, there is no excuse." Jean didn't reply. He'd cowed Julien, took the apology, and left.

"Really?" Navarro asked. "How stupid are you?"

Julien scowled. "Shut up," he snarled and stalked away.


"You do know you're not supposed to go anywhere without a Templar, right?" Michel admonished as he continued to write his letter. He didn't need to look up to know she was there.

Bree sighed. She loved Michel like a father even when he was tough on her. "You afraid I'll burn the forest down, Michel?"

"Bree," he warned gently. She was still in a heap of trouble…even if Jean refused his father's decree.

She didn't like being monitored but she understood. "I'm sorry…I didn't expect to go on the hunt." She said and moved next to him. "But Jean gave me this."

Michel glanced up and saw the ring presented to him. He stopped writing and put the quill down. "He asked you?"

She beamed and nodded holding her hand up watching the ring glisten in the light. "Yes he did," she replied happily. "Can you imagine me Empress of Orlais?"

Michel was happy for her to a point, Elf-blooded and a Mage was a horrible combination for Orlais. "Empress consort, actually."

"I know you're worried and I'm not naïve. I'm a mage, I'm Elf-blooded, I know…but Fereldan has survived with Queen Lydia."

Orlais was vastly different and would be far harder to convince. It worried him. Orlais had changed but not that much. "Congratulations, Bree." Michel smiled and hugged his newly engaged 'daughter'. "I'm writing a letter to your mother, do you want me to mention it?"

"I'll write her a letter if you can include it."

Michel nodded. He missed Khrys, missed her so much it was hard to sleep at night. She was safe in Skyhold…as safe as she could be considering an assassin managed to breach and attack her. He tried not to think of that, Fenris saved her then and he was there now along with Balian.


Jean hesitated before entering the chambers given to Bree. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her but decency dictated that he stay a gentleman…it was difficult.

"When will you tell your father?" she asked.

"Soon," Jean answered as she started to take her boots off. "How do you think your father will react?"

Bree cackled and walked up to him as he leaned on the wall. His arms were folded across his chest and she pulled them apart then placed her hands on his chest. "He'll freak out," she smiled and he stood up straight as she ran her hands up and down his chest. "The ring is beautiful, Jean."

"It was my mother's," he said and felt her unbuttoning his tunic. She felt his heart thudding rapidly under her hands. She stood on her tip toes clearly wanting a kiss, Jean complied and leaned down. He nearly lost himself in the kiss. This was to be his bride, his queen, his wife. He wanted her more than anything else right now but his sense of honor got the better of him. "No," he said abruptly breaking from the kiss. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, cherie, I can't."

The passion and depth of the kiss told her otherwise. "You can't?"

"Oh, I want to," he groaned painfully. All he could think of though was what Dorian would do once he found out. He'd rather not be killed by his future father in law. "I really want to. Sleep well, my love."

She kissed him again and he barely resisted again before backing out of the room. He closed the door and pressed his forehead against it with a sigh. "I need a cold bath," he muttered to himself and heard Leanna, one of her Templars, snort.


Etienne, as with the others, had heard Jean's news. He did like Bree but he could really only see the potential for disaster, the potential for his best friend to be hurt. He found Jean in his study. Not too much of a study really just somewhere that was quiet where he could drink and read.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," Etienne drawled drawing Jean's attention from whatever he was doing. He was thinking about Bree…always thinking about Bree.

"Thank you," Jean replied and noticed Etienne remained quiet as he poured himself a drink. "Speak your mind."

Etienne didn't jump on it right away but thought of what he would say next. How he would say it and he decided to go with direct. "Are you sure about her?" he asked and sat down across from him. "She's a mage and she's Elf-blooded. The people won't like it."

"My father assures me that it's well in hand…" he replied. "I understand your meaning though."

Trying to figure out how Gaspard had it all in hand was a head scratcher. Etienne sure as hell didn't know and neither did Jean but Gaspard was a fine ruler…whatever his reasons or his methods they trusted him. "I don't know how but…she's your choice and I do like her." Etienne did like her. Jean liked feisty and independent women and Etienne liked the delicate flowers.

There was more to his approval. "But?"

Etienne was thinking about the danger, to her and to Jean. "It'll be dangerous for her. She'll need a guard…and protection."

"Mmmhmm," Jean replied.

Etienne's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "If you say it's me, I will punch you in the face."

Jean laughed. "Why not, she can't be that bad."

Etienne didn't have an issue with Bree in that regard, he just didn't want to be the one between her and an enemy, and it wasn't a question of bravery or duty. "I don't want the responsibility." It would destroy him if he let anything happen to her…and it would crush Jean.

Jean wasn't offended that his friend didn't want to be Bree's bodyguard, he actually expected it. Etienne was usually more concerned with his safety which is why Etienne was nominated for head of his Household guard. "No problem. I was thinking more along the lines of Navarro."

Navarro was an excellent choice and he was easy to get along with but there was a better one. "Or Julien. He may be a jerk but he's still the best of us."

"No," he replied. Julien saved his life on the battlefield so he owed him but as Julien looked down at anything that wasn't Orlesian nobility he wasn't comfortable trusting Bree to his care. "Navarro will be it…add him to the two Templars and Michel and she's got all the protection she needs." It took this long but Jean noticed that Etienne had a small scrolled parchment. "What's that?"

Etienne finished off the drink in his glass and passed the note to him. "I've been summoned."

Jean chuckled lightly reading the paper. "And what does the great Duke Arnaud Arles want from you now?"

"Probably to throw another bride to be at me," Etienne muttered and Jean chuckled.

"Well, maybe you should take one," he said and Etienne scoffed.

"Why? I'm not going to inherit anything after my brothers are done and I'd make a terrible husband."

"So I guess I'll just send a reply back saying I can't spare you?"

Etienne grinned broadly. "Would you? Thanks…that would be great."


When Etienne left him Jean kept thinking about Bree. How it felt when she was unbuttoning his tunic, how he felt when she kissed him, when she touched him. He couldn't stop thinking it, thinking of that moment before he pushed her away. He stood and left his study.

It was late in the evening and most of the palace was a sleep with the exception of the guards and the second of her Templars, Galen. "You are dismissed," Jean said to Galen who stood outside Bree's room as the ever present magic oriented guardian.

Galen spared the Prince a look and hesitated. "With respect, Highness, I don't take orders from you."

That was not the response Jean was looking for. "Then move further down the hall, Ser," he said irritably. Galen sighed and complied. Jean tapped on the door and heard the permission to enter from the other side.

"What are you doing here?" she asked but Jean kissed her before she finished the question. He didn't say it but his intent was clear and Bree started to unbutton the tunic again.

Bree had never had sex before, he knew that and as badly as he wanted her he didn't want to push or overstep. "Are you sure?" he asked as she slipped her hands under the unbuttoned tunic and managing to push it off his shoulders and onto the floor.

"Yes," she replied and he kissed her again, deeper this time. He leaned down and gathered her up in his arms like a groom carrying a bride across the threshold and carried her to the bed.


Bree woke just as the sun began to peak through the drapes. Jean was sleeping soundly next to her and she discovered that she never wanted to sleep alone again. The bed was comfortable anyway but with Jean in it she felt more relaxed and comfortable then she ever had. Her first encounter with sex was better then she'd ever imagined. Books and gossip didn't do it justice at all. Jean was gentle and playful and was more than happy to 'practice' with her throughout the night.

Jean purred as he felt Bree lightly drag her nails over his back. "Oh that feels amazing," he muttered into the pillow.

"It's only fair…what you did to me last night was amazing," she replied and he laughed it off before rolling over onto his back.

Her praise was flattering and embarrassing all the same. "Oh come on," he scoffed.

"How many women have you had?" she asked and he cackled loudly.

"I am fairly sure I shouldn't answer that," he replied and heard her chuckle.

"What? That many?" she laughed as she ran her nails up and down his chest. He had the physique of a warrior along with a few scars. A large one on his right abdomen looked like it was made by a spear, an arrow scar above his left collarbone, and what looked to be a sword cut across to the top of his back.

"I've shared my bed with enough…I'll say no more," Bree shrugged and left it at that, the scars had her attention now.

"Where'd you get this one?" she asked referring to the one that looked like it was made by a spear, the one that looked the most painful.

"My first combat victory. I was 16 and it was my first actual battle. I took a footman's spear clean through my armor. I was unhorsed, on the ground and wounded…Julien saved my life that day. The first time either of us had seen combat and he made sure no one got close to me until I was on my feet, the man is like a dancer with a sword," he explained and she knitted her brows, Julien was the one he clearly didn't like very much but it was clear they had a complicated relationship.

Her hands moved up to the obvious arrow scar. "And this?"

"There was disagreement with some highwaymen in the Emerald Graves a while back that turned into a scuffle. Somehow I was the only one injured out of the whole thing," he explained and stretched before snatching Bree and rolling over to settle above her.

Bree giggled as he kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear. "And the one on your back?" she asked.

He didn't want to talk about that one, he wasn't proud of that one in the slightest. "I don't want to talk about that one," he said and she gave him the lovely smile that he enjoyed so much. "I love you."


By the time Bree and Jean left the room they were starving. They reached the dining hall and found Michel, they were late to breakfast and apparently everyone else had come and gone.

"Good morning, Michel," Bree greeted kissing his cheek as she copied his chosen breakfast of bread and honey. Jean grabbed an apple.

"You slept in," Michel said and Bree blushed. Jean didn't hide his smirk fast enough and Michel made his deduction at lightning speed. This time, Michel didn't resist the fatherly urge and punched the Prince across the jaw. Jean bedded his daughter, of that he was certain. "That was from me," he said firmly pointing a finger at him. "Dorian will kill you."

Jean worked his jaw and rubbed it. Striking royalty like that was pretty much a death sentence…or at least worthy of harsh punishment. "Michel!" Bree cried out in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Did you take advantage of her?" Michel demanded with a growl.

"I didn't take advantage of anything," Jean replied coolly. "You hit like an anvil."

Michel enjoyed the satisfaction of Jean's comment, he'd hit him again if he got the notion. "Michel, stop it. He didn't take advantage of me…it was actually me who started it."

That generated an image that Michel didn't want to see and he held up his hand. "Ah ah…stop…I don't need think of that," he said swiftly and looked at Jean. "Ne lui brise pas le coeur," he told him in a warning tone.

Jean nodded to him and Bree understood what he said. 'Do not break her heart.' Jean couldn't fathom hurting her in anyway. He'd die to protect her and he'd do anything and everything he could to make her happy.