It had been long since King Alistair of Ferelden had felt properly gobsmacked. One saw a large number of absurd situations, ridiculous requests and other such frittery as a king, but there was nothing that compared to the feeling his younger son invoked when he informed his father of his intention to marry.
Prince Cailan smiled at his father, "Do you have nothing to say? No congratulations to offer?" His grin faltered, "No disowning to go about? No tantrums to throw about the inappropriateness of my choice in wife?"
Inappropriate did not even begin to describe it. Alistair's thoughts went to his wife. Anora was not going to like this, not one bit. "Cailan…I do not know what it is I should say." He ran his hands through his now somewhat thinning hair. "Have you given this the proper amount of thought?" You do understand that this will likely never be accepted by the nobles, much less by your mother…"
"My mother? Why should Mother be upset? She has never wanted more than our happiness."
Because you want to marry a commoner. Because you want to marry an elf. Because you want to marry her daughter.
Alistair dared not say those things aloud and instead sighed, "Forget I said anything, Cailan. Please, give me a moment to…process this."
"If this is about her race or her background, do not worry, Father. Her mother is the Hero of Ferelden, leader of the Grey Wardens. Perhaps they would not accept elves in general, or commoners, but they would accept her."
Alistair knew his son spoke with the naivety of a young person in love. It would not be so simple. But it was not impossible. Cailan was the second son and would probably never see the throne. The gentry may be unwilling to accept an Elven queen but seeing as Duncan was settled and in good health, they may be willing to accept an Elven princess, provided that she was the daughter of an elf such as the Warden.
"I know who her mother is." Alistair sighed once again.
"Well, of course you do! You only travelled with her for over a year and helped to stop the Blight." His pride was unmistakable. He took great honor in being the son of a Grey Warden. Cailan had more than a few things in common with his namesake, including pale blonde hair and the Theirin nose. He shared his late uncle's love of stories, especially those that featured the Wardens.
Alistair bit back a bitter laugh. Perhaps they should have named him Alistair Junior instead, since he seemed to have inherited his father's weakness for elves.
Well, elf… he amended.
It had been well over a decade since he'd seen her last. She had been his once, long ago. She was his first love, his first kiss, his first…more than kiss and after his marriage to Anora, his first…
"I know that you would like her." His son interrupted his reverie.
"It's not that, Cailan. I'm sure she's a lovely girl and that I would like her very much." He pinched the bridge of his nose. How does one explain to one's son that he cannot marry the woman he loves because his father had conducted a fairly obvious affair with the girl's mother many years ago? And that because of that, the boy's mother would never allow him to marry that woman's daughter.
Alistair himself was uncertain that he could support his son in this. Daughter of a Hero or no, the nobles were not going to take this without a fight. Were she the daughter of any other elf he may have been more willing to take it on but he did not know if he could bear seeing the girl's mother again.
His heart had never fully recovered from her.
He loved Anora in his own way, as a man that shared her life for the past 26 seasons, but he had never felt such a violent, consuming love for anyone other than her. His Neria.
Neria…he had scarcely allowed himself to think that name and now their children wanted to bind them to each other in a way that had been impossible all those years ago. She would be family. How ironic, he'd always wanted a family with her and now he very well may get it, if his son's determination was any indicator.
"Father, you know that you do not have many seasons left. All too soon you will hear the Calling and venture to the Deep Roads. Would you not leave me settled and happy? Would you deny me the opportunity to provide you with grandchildren before you go?"
Alistair said nothing, still wrapped up in thoughts of lessons learned the hard way and of love lost.
"Do not deny me this happiness, please, Father." He pleaded with the older man, "I love her very much and would not have anyone else as a wife."
Alistair almost smiled at this. What a difference a couple of decades and a lasting peace made. He had felt so much the same a long time ago, but he had known that if he took the crown it could never be. When Neria suggested that he take Anora as a wife and then further suggested that they not need to end their relationship after the wedding he had thought that she'd found a way to beat the system. It was foolish of both of them to think that it would work out.
Love made men stupid, however and he'd loved her more than anything; loved her enough to take Morrigan's offer, to help her create an Old God who could one day become an Archdemon. Now, upon reflection, that was the beginning of the end for them, though it had taken many years after to run its course. Their love had been too selfish, too desperate.
When she left him in Weisshaupt had been the worst time of his life. Worse than sleeping in the stables, worse than being sent off to the Chantry, worse than the day he'd met Goldanna in Denerim and had lost the last vestiges of his boyhood; lost the innocence and hope of a young man who did not know nearly enough of the cruelty and unjustness in this world.
He knew that she deserved more than he could give her but he could not bring himself to give her up. It had been selfish, he knew. Eventually his wife tired of being made a fool and sent Bann Teagan to him. Rather than confront his King, Teagan had spoken briefly with Neria, who left very soon after. Alistair had not seen her since. All Grey Warden business that required the involvement of the King was handled by proxy and all Royal invitations were politely declined or attended by her number two, in her stead.
Alistair allowed himself a few more beats to ponder and reluctantly came to the conclusion that he could not force his son to make the same mistakes he had. "Cailan, I give you leave to do with your heart as you wish. Please, though, do not speak of any engagement yet. Allow me to speak with your mother and with the Banns and Teryns that would accept your love. It's a very delicate situation and we would all be remiss to not gather support before any formal announcement is made."
His son could not contain his joy. "Do you really think they will accept her?" His previous assurance and bluster was now gone.
"I do not know, son. We will try."
Cailan hugged his father, "Thank you. For trying."
Alistair then slumped further into his chair and tried to ignore the sudden throbbing in his head. "May as well get it over with now." He muttered aloud, unashamed that he was currently terrified of his wife and her certain negative reaction to her youngest son's intentions.
**
"I will not allow it." Neria Surana was unmoved by her daughter's tears. "Mickah, it is impossible. He is a Prince. You are both common and an elf. Do you not understand? The King and Queen will never consent. It cannot be."
"No, Mother, it is you who does not understand. Things are different now, it is not as it was when you were my age. The Elves have a Bannage now, they are no longer confined to the Alienage. Perhaps we are not considered equal by the humans yet, but one day we shall. And soon! Cailan expects little opposition from the King and Queen. You are the Hero of Ferelden, Mother. That's just as good as being noble, if not better! 'Tis better in mine and Cailan's eyes, to be certain."
"Mickah, I did not fight so hard to keep you so that you could one day have your heart broken by a Prince while I stand by and allow it.
"My heart is well and fine and in one piece! He has already asked and I have already accepted."
"Does your Cailan have the blessing of his parents?"
Mickah hesitated. "It's only a matter of time before a blessing is obtained! He speaks to them at this moment!"
Neria fought against the strong urge to burst into tears. When had this happened? When had her only child given her heart to the Prince? Why could she not prevent her daughter from repeating her mistakes? Was she an insufficient mother? "They shall never consent to it, my child. Our kind is not meant for the palace."
Mickah's expression turned stormy. "What would you have me do, Mother? Turn him over to some noble's daughter so that we may both be miserable and separated for the rest of our lives?"
Neria felt her stomach turn. Was it possible that she Mickah knew of her past with the King? She had kept her daughter as far from Denerim as she possibly could, keeping her safe from rumors and innuendo. "I do not say this because I want you to be unhappy. Quite the opposite, my child." She tucked an errant lock of hair behind her Mickah's ear. "I am trying to save you from misery and disappointment."
"Maker's Breath, Mother!" The only thing that shall make me miserable and disappointed is being denied my love! I love him more than anything in this world. I love him as you love father. Could you imagine being denied him?"
Neria almost laughed. She cared for Mickul, certainly, as much as her heart would allow. He was her husband, her child's father, but there was only one man she'd ever loved as fervently as her daughter would imply.
...Alistair…It had been ages since she even thought his name, referring to him only as the King, His Majesty, that man…anything but Alistair.
She would not permit her daughter to make the same mistakes. She could not allow her to follow the same path she had. Telling herself that his love was enough, his clear affection all she needed to feel full.
How wrong she had been. Their love had proved unsustainable, especially after the birth of his first son. He'd been so happy, so excited. He'd shown up in her quarters on the night of Duncan's birth, so joyful she thought she would be unable to contain her tear, That she would weep and scream at him that she did not give a damn about his child with Anora, that it killed her that he had his little royal family now and she had no place in it.
When Teagan came to Weisshaupt it had been a blessing from the Maker. She'd been with Alistair for so long that she did not know how to be without him. It took very little nudging from the Bann for her to realize that her time with Alistair was over and that he could not give her the things that she needed. She left and never looked back, too afraid that she would see him and lose her strength.
She met Mickul not long thereafter and married him upon learning that she was carrying his child. He was a good man, strong and steady, completely unintimidated by her reputation, by her magic.
He was unafraid of the Circle and the Templars that tried to take Mickah from them upon her birth. It had taken all his strength and hers plus that of Wynne and First Enchanter Irving and Maker knew who else to keep her.
It was truly a blessing that her daughter had not been cursed with magic and sent to the Circle. She would never want that for her.
Mickul was not going to be pleased to hear about their daughter's intention to marry the son of his wife's former lover. He knew all too well of Neria's past with the King and while he was understanding, that did not mean that it did not bother him.
"...and there is nothing you can do about it! I am a grown woman, the proud daughter of two of the finest Dalish elves to walk this world and the nobles and whoever else can kiss my arse and sod off!"
Neria was not sure how long her daughter prattled on, but by the end of the evening she found herself giving a tentative okay, dependent upon the blessing of Cailan's parents and the blessing of the Gentry.
She was confident that Mickah would find neither.