Alistair found the elven mage some time later, where she always was when she had such time on her hands. In the kitchen, practicing her potions art. The elf stood with her back to the door, her focus on the motor and pestle in her hands. She was working some sweet smell into the air as she ground up the leaves of a plant the man behind her could not even begin to identify. The King approached her from behind, coughing loudly to make his presence known. There was a slight pause in her motions before the elf settled and simply went on with her task. Never once looking up to see who it was.
"Your Majesty," she greeted, her voice level, calm, distant. He hated that she sounded that way. Hated that she did not bother to use his name. Hated that she would not even turn to look at him. Yet he could not blame her for doing so. He had, in a way, hurt her in the throne room that day.
"Don't do that." he said, running a hand through his hair staring at her back in a pleading sort of way.
"Do what, your majesty?" she said again, her tone the same as before.
He let out a desperate sound and went to her, not daring to touch her, not daring not to. His hand hovered instead over her shoulder and he stared at the frail bones there, begging her to turn. "Don't call me that! Damnit Tearanae you're the only one who calls me by my NAME anymore. I don't feel like a person save for when you're near. Please…Maker…please don't hate me."
He saw, more than heard, the forgiveness, the sympathy, the resignation, and the sorrow in her voice and the way her shoulders slumped. She hung her head as she set her work down on the table before her. " I could never hate you Alistair." she told him quietly. When she at last turned she was smiling, but it was lined with pain and he could see the way she fought back the tears in her eyes. "You are my brother." She said.
He felt a part of him shut down, the part of him that still loved her. Still, he smiled and allowed his hand to lay gently on her shoulder. Perhaps Anora was right to fear the connection between them after all, he thought as he stared at the delicate woman before him. "I…I know that. Thank you Tearanae. I…Maker I wish I could have prevented this. Anora she-"
The red-haired elf shook her head and held up a hand to stop him from saying any more. "No. I understand her mind. She fears that the relationship we share will threaten her position."
Alistair let out an amused sighed and returned his hand to his chest as he crossed his arms and grinned at his dear friend. " As Queen?" he asked with a roll of his eyes.
Tearanae shook her head and turned back to her potions work. "No. Her position as your wife. She is more delicate than she seems Alistair. You must take good care that she does not feel abandoned."
Alistair stared at the elf's back for a moment in surprise and then smiled hesitantly. She was right. But then, she always was. His mind turned from his wife to the upcoming nuptials planned for his friend and found that he was disquieted by the arranged marriage. Loghain was, after all, nearly twice his age and Tearanae…well…he imagined she was either his age or younger. No doubt it would be awkward for her, to be bound to a man so much older. A part of him doubted that they would ever have children. When he thought of how merely a few months ago the woman before him had been enraptured, still in love it broke his heart to think of the situation he had thrust upon her so suddenly.
"You could have said no you know." he told her.
Again her movements paused for a slow few heartbeats before she resumed her work, pouring the green, sweet smelling liquid into a small pot she kept over the fire. "If I had I would have lost the respect of Anora, and nearly all of the Banorn…not to mention the lords biting at my heels in Amaranthine."
Alistair made a sound of disagreement and she turned, placed a hand on her hip, and grinned at him. "Do not fret so Alistair. It is not so bad for me to wed the River Dane. He is a fine man and he has proven himself a fair brother in arms and an excellent general. He has even proven to be an excellent Warden, despite your reservations. I do not regret my decision. He will…be a fine husband."
He caught the catch in her voice before he ever saw the first tear fall. He took a step forward but she violently moved herself away from him, clasping a hand over her mouth and hiding her face from view behind a veil of red braids. He frowned as her shoulders shook in grief but knew better than to try and touch her, so instead he simply watched and waited for her to calm. After a moment she turned, wiping tears from her eyes and forced a smile. "I'm sorry…I. It's been a rough year." she said at length.
Alistair said nothing at first, allowing her the comfort of simple acknowledgement. She turned back to her motor and pestle and began to wash both with a water-skin she kept nearby. He waited until both were pristine and then at last tried once more to assure her she needn't go through with such a terrible plan. She wouldn't like it. But he took the low road. "I wonder what Zevran would say if he saw what you're forcing yourself to do."
This time there was no pause as she picked the leaves from a branch of some smooth-leaved plant. She did, however, shudder as the name slipped through Alistair's lips. "It no longer matters what Zevran might have said." she muttered after some time, her eyes never once moving from her task, "He is gone. He no longer has anything to do with my affairs."
He went to her side and placed a hand upon one of hers, forcing her to stop her action and look at him. There was sorrow and anger in her eyes but for once the king did not care. "You loved him Tearanae. He will always have a say."
She snapped her hand away from him and glared, stepping back and away, her eyes livid. "Do not speak his name to me! He betrayed me and thus no longer has a say in my affairs! You, of all men, should know that."
"You were lovers, it's only natural that you wouldn't be ready to-"
"We were more than that! Zevran was my heart, Ricker was my soul! I am not whole without them! I will NEVER be ready! " she exclaimed tears flowing down her face upon blue tracts traced years before he had ever met her by a tattooist needle. He regretted having brought real tears to that beautiful face. She deserved to smile after everything she had done. She deserved to be happy… he hated himself for doing this to her.
"Tearanae…I-"
"No!" she snapped, then she took in a shuddering breath, closed her eyes and reached up to her ear. She touched a small golden earring and gave something of a painful, wistful smile. With another shaky breath she calmed and looked at him once more, not smiling, but no longer crying. "No." she said softer this time. "Enough Alistair. It is my decision. And I have decided. I will marry Teyrn Loghain. And I will try to find some happiness in that."