Chapter 4. Royal Pains

Their dinner was, by royal standards, small and informal. This still meant that long tables where brought forth and set in the court hall and that most of the household ate together. But at least there was no new dignitaries Michael had to entertain. For once he could exchange a few private words with Anora instead.

Their conversation soon turned to the events in court earlier that day. Anora launched herself into a series of small lectures on things he should have said and done differently, if only he had been better prepared. Even if she still grudgingly accepted that on the whole everything had gone well.

It was partly because of their difference in style, Michael thought. Anora excelled with facts and numbers. She would often get her way simply by being the person who knew all the real facts best at the table. Michael preferred to reason and to direct people by letting them produce the facts.

He wished that Anora would see beyond her own ways and recognize that his way of doing things could produce results just as hers, but she still seemed to be affronted by the way he had taken charge at the meeting, even if she wouldn't quite come out and say it.

She really doesn't like to admit that I can handle things myself, he thought to himself, and felt a stab of resentment. He wondered if she still somehow felt threatened by him, as it seemed so important for her to put him down.

Those thoughts put him in a bad mood, and he began to argue more fiercely with her than he usually would. It wasn't long before their discussion had turned into an angry shouting match. The rest of the household tried to ignore it, but when Anora and Michael paused to glare at each other, an embarrassing silence settled in the hall.

As soon as he had eaten enough, Michael rose and excused himself and left. He needed to clear his head and the best way he knew how to was physical exercise on the sparring field. Ser Gavren, the leader of the troop of royal knights that had accompanied them from Denerim decided, after some deliberation, that he had better spar with the Prince himself, when he was in that mood. He had been bruised before in such practice, and gotten over his worst fear of the fierce blows the Prince would deliver when he was upset.

Anora remained at the table, watching her husband leave with a sinking feeling. Why did it always end like this? she wondered. Her complaints had been more than justified she thought. He did try to take over a court she was far better qualified to lead than him. Even if he was technically Teyrn, she knew Gwaren in a way he could not. He should have discussed things with her first. Despite this, she had let him do it, and now when she wanted to correct his mistakes, he had thrown a childish tantrum.

Anora tried to concentrate on work in the library, after the evening meal, but her heart was not in it. Her feelings kept disturbing her. She had had many rows with Cailan, she remembered, but she had always been able to shrug them off. With Michael things had become different. The knot of pain in her stomach she felt, as she watched him leave in anger, wouldn't go away.

She considered retiring early, but she didn't like to go to bed alone. Instead she brought a packet of correspondence from a trade representative from Orlais with her upstairs and asked Erlina to follow her.

She relaxed slightly as Erlina's soothing hands began to undo the braids in her hair. It was more than just the feeling of her fingers as she gently combed her hair. Her strict austere coiffure was also part of the mental armour she wore in office as Queen. Here in her privacy she could let down her guard and relax.

When Erlina was finished, Anora waved her off for the night and settled in bed with the packet of Orlesian letters.

It was considerably later when Michael returned inside and joined her in their chamber. He felt calmer and hoped that they could leave their previous argument behind them. He didn't want to tear up those feelings again.

Anora smiled briefly at him and put down her notes when he arrived. She wanted to say something that would make things better between them, but she couldn't quite figure out what to say. As the silence grew between them, she reached out and touched him instead. He turned to kiss her lightly, and then they clung to each other.


Michael woke up in the middle of the night. As he reached for the chamber pot, he realized that he was hungry. He thought about it for a moment and then he got up and tiptoed out of their bed chamber and headed for the kitchen.

A sleepy guard came quickly to attention when Michael headed down the stairs. Michael described his errand and the guard set off to try and wake someone from the kitchen staff.

Michael sttled down on a wooden bench in the dark empty kitchen and lit a candle.

"There you are, your Highness," a kindly voice said behind him.

Michael turned around to see that it was Elga, the old woman that Anora had introduced to him as her old nanny, when she had been a little girl.

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you like this Elga," Michael said, feeling a bit ashamed that the woman had had to get out of bed on his account.

"Don't worry dear. At my age you don't need much sleep anyway," Elga said dismissively.

She began to produce bread, ham and cheese for him.

"So what brings you up in the middle of the night, your Highness?" Elga said and sat down opposite him.

"I was just hungry," Michael replied, taken aback about the old woman's question.

"Had a bit of a fight with my girl, did you?" Elga said in matter of fact tone. "It was the same with her father, the old Teyrn here you know. Everytime he had a row with his wife, Loghain would go riding half across the country or beat up some of his knights to let the worst out, and then he would come back hungry to make up."

Michael shook his head in disbelief. He wasn't sure what he thought was more embarrassing for him, her frank words about such personal matters, or the fact that he was apparently so like Loghain of all people in these matters.

"Did that happen often?" he couldn't help asking.

"He is the same as his daughter. They both have lots of pride and stubbornness, bless their hearts."

Michael nodded slowly and smiled involuntarily. It was some family he had married into.

Suddenly he heard a scraping noise behind him and then he saw Anora stnding in the doorway in her nightgown.

"I woke up and you weren't there," she said accusingly.

"Im' sorry, I was hungry," Michael replied.

"Don't worry Buttercup, I'm not going to keep your husband much longer," Elga said and winked at Michael.

"Nan!" Anora burst out angrily. "I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, pooh child! You could be the empress of all Thedas, but you would still be my little Buttercup to me."

"You're impossible Nan!" Anora said stamping her foot. Then she turned to look at Michael.

"I'm going to back to bed now. Are you coming husband?" she said haughtily.

Michael quickly finished the last ham and rose to follow her.

"Good night then... Nan," he said smiling and hurried after his wife.

"Buttercup?" he said with a little smile, as he caught up with her.

"Don't you dare..!" Anora replied, glaring dangerously at him.

They got back to their bed chamber, climbed back into bed and prepared to sleep again. Michael leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night." she murmured.

"Good night, Buttercup," he whispered and ducked away as she slapped him.