Loghain woke late, for once, the day after his wedding to the Arl of Amaranthine. Apparently, his new wife was not so drained as he. He woke to find her in a shift and a robe, sitting at her desk pouring over a plethora of papers and an old book. He groaned as he woke and although her ears twitched she didn't look around. He wasn't sure why but she continued focusing on her work as he got up, washed, and dressed himself. She only turned to look at him after he was fully dressed, a small curious look on her face with a touch of pink to her cheeks. He realized as she stared at him that she had been giving him privacy.

He respected that about her. And he found it endearing, that she would think enough about him to provide him some privacy when she really needn't bother. Honestly, the girl had seen him naked plenty enough the night before. He couldn't help smiling rakishly at her. The result was that she turned an even brighter shade of red and began playing with a stray strand of hair. He chuckled and came to lean over her, "What are you doing?" he asked her.

She cleared her throat and seemed to be trying to quell the deep red color of her face as she held up one of the papers for him to see. "A report from the Seneschal at the Keep in Gwaren. I thought I should keep myself abreast of the region's main exports and means of trade. Since I…I am your wife now." she told him, glancing away in embarrassment.

His brows rose in surprise and then lowered as he found himself astounded by her thoughtfulness. He smiled and reached over to inspect the report she held in her hand. "I suppose it would be beneficial to have another set of eyes to give me a new perspective on things. Do you have reports from Amaranthine? So long as you are assisting me, I should at the very least return the favor."

Tearanae blushed slightly at his offer and then smiled. "I'd appreciate that. I admit there are some ins and outs to this business I am not as familiar with as I would like to be." Then she frowned and tapped her finger almost irritably on the desk's surface. "And, according to the seneschal, I am far too lenient…which is funny considering how I had to forcibly stamp down a rebellion."

Loghain lifted a brow, "Someone started a rebellion against you? Even after listening to that silver tongue of yours? Well that must have taken some truly remarkable levels of idiocy."

Tearanae's smile grew smaller, hints of sadness at the edges. "They thought they were doing the right thing. They were hungry…and the trade roads had only just opened again. I didn't enjoy having to do it…but I am well aware what happens if you bow your head too much to those meant to be under your care and service." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I much preferred the nobles attempting to assassinate me. At least that was clean, simple, and easily taken care of…for the most part."

"It's different ruling the common folk than it is commanding a small band of rebels, isn't it?" he mused with a smart grin.

Her brow quirked and she glanced back at him with a wry smile of her own. "Yes…it is." she commented back.

He chuckled and then didn't fight the instinct to kiss her upon her cheek. He lifted her from her chair and snagged the reports from her hand as he directed her toward her wardrobe. "Go on then and dress. We should show our faces or else someone might assume we killed one another during the night."

She pouted slightly, like a child torn away from an entertaining book too soon, but it quickly faded. She shot him a wicked smile and tossed back her hair. "Well, perhaps they might also assume we are still passionately clawing at each other," she mused in return.

This time it was he who turned red under the collar. He shot her a heated glare and she giggled. "You, my dear, have far too much cheek for one little elf."

She just smiled at him, pulled out a simple set of robes and darted behind her screen to dress. He watched her silhouette for a small time and then turned his eyes back to the reports which she had been so focused on. There were plenty from Gwaren, even a few from his manor staff pertaining to his daily habits. She had circled a few things and made a few notes, which he was amused by. Apparently, she seemed to think he put on a show for those who served him as he had had different eating habits while amongst them at camp. He grinned, and wrote in a note of his own beneath hers and then moved on.

Beneath the reports from Gwaren there were missives, letters, and reports from Amaranthine and the Warden bastion who had remained. Darkspawn sightings were down from where they had been even a year ago and Orzammar had sent in a report stating that the Darkspawn presence in the Deep Roads had seen an increase, although not in nearly the same numbers as before. In fact, the ground the Dwarves had gained seemed to be holding for the first time in centuries…which was impressive as most of the ground they had gained they owed to his new wife's efforts. The land was also recovering well, apparently due to some interest from a circle mage with an expertise in botany whom Tearanae spoke with…in length it seemed. He told himself to keep in mind that his petite wife would most likely appreciate having a garden in Gwaren, which would suit him fine. The rose beds had suffered since the death of his wife.

The city of Amaranthine was growing in trade influence apparently. There were a few reports at some outside help from someone in Kirkwall, although the reports failed to mention who. The peasantry, although troubled by the loss of some farmland, seemed to have grown happy under her reign. There were new reports that she had shifted the Keep's soldiers from the city more and more to protect the outlying farms and trade-routes, which was smart. While the nobility turned up their noses at such a decision, she kept the merchants and peasantry happy and provided them peace of mind. And then…there was an odd report buried beneath the rest. A note from Soldier's Peak.

The keep had been cleaned and cleared of its old problems and debris and the Wardens were beginning to set up a secondary base of operations there…which would give them three offices in Fereldon now. There were no reports of disturbances, which meant the repairs she had helped make to the veil were holding. Although he could see a drafted reply where she discussed a desire to reach out to the Circle for a more critical review. Beneath the notes about the Keep itself, there was a letter from Copernicus, the old mage who lingered at the peak of the Keep's tower. She seemed to be discussing with him a way to cure the symptoms of corruption, looking for a way to reverse the damage of the Darkspawn.

What troubled him was that she spoke in code to the old mage…and that, if guessed correctly…she was gaining ground.

The last page in her small pile was a letter from the Warden command in Weishaupt which appeared to have then been forwarded to the Wardens in Orlais. They talked of her interest in a journal from another Warden mage…a compatriot of Duncan's who had vanished sometime just before Maric had allowed the Warden's to return to Fereldon. An elf by the sound of it. One that seemed familiar to him as the description went on…but only peripherally. Everything about the letter was vague. But they had sent her the mage's journal and told her to 'take great care'.

Furrowing his brow in interest, Loghain glanced at the old book lying upon the desk and reached for it. He flipped open the cover but found nothing but what seemed to him to be gibberish. A warden code then. He pursed his lips and considered what he'd learned, wondering if he should speak of it to Tearanae. Ultimately he closed the journal and left it alone. If he needed to know, she would tell him; he was sure of it. He respected her enough to believe that. And he had known, going in, that there would be things about that she would never share with him, mostly pertaining to the Wardens.

He looked once more at the screen just in time to find her rounding the corner of it, snapping a brace in place upon her arm. To his surprise, she was in a dressed down version of her warden commander armor, bracers and gloves on her arms and hands, leather boots with metal braces reaching up her legs. Her mage robes were blue and gray with black feathers around the collar. She reached up and snapped an elegant looking necklace into place and glanced up at him, shifting and sending him a small and tight smile.

She hesitated a moment and then sat at the vanity that someone had brought in for her and pulled out a few leather ties. She brushed out her long hair and then reached up to begin braiding it. Loghain watched her for a moment before an idea came to him and he stood. She hesitated in what she was doing as she watched him walk toward her. He reached out and took a lock of her hair in his hand before he raised it to his lips and smiled at her. "Allow me." he told her.

She blushed and looked at him in surprise before nodding and adjusting the way she sat to allow him room. She folded her hands in her lap and seemed stiff at first as he brushed and combed out her fine, silken strands of flame. After some time she relaxed in his hands and even closed her eyes in contentment as he braided her hair for her. He wasn't extremely skilled at the act, but he had helped Anora with her braids when she'd been a child and his first wife had often enjoyed the way he paid her hair attention. So he didn't mind helping the elf. He made her braids as she normally would and when finished he stepped away.

She sighed and glanced at her appearance in a mirror before smiling back at him. "Thank you Loghain…I…it was very thoughtful of you." she told him, blushing as she seemed to realize how intimate the act might be perceived. He chuckled and patted her on the shoulder.

"Come along you waif…they really will send someone at this rate."

She placed her hand over his but nodded and stood smoothly. He held out his arm for her and she looked at him for a moment, hesitated, and then slipped her arm through his. He wondered over the hesitation but suspected that while she was not shy in the bedroom she would in fact be quite shy concerning their relationship in public. For a brief moment he wondered if it was an act…but shook that off as he had seen the way she had blushed around those rogues of hers…back when she'd just been a warden.

He'd barely opened the door when he found it wrenched back by none other than the King. All parties seemed to stare at one another for a moment in surprise. Tearanae and Loghain seemed perplexed to have found Alistair panting and red-faced, the handle to their door still in his hand…Loghain's still outstretched to take it. Alistair however went through a gambit of emotions. He'd been angry when the door first opened, then confused to see them, and finally the King looked at their interlocked arms and went a stark shade of crimson in the face.

"I, uh…you were late. Both of you. Late. Everyone's waiting in the hall." He paused and gave Tearanae a pointed stare that was tinged with playful suspicion. "You, were, late."

The elf slowly smirked and leaned against her new husband's arm. "My apologies…I slept in." she told him, tactfully sparing the King any more details than he was due.

Loghain found himself giving a small, smug, smirk as well, carefully maneuvering around Maric's second born and placing his hand atop of the elf's. "How can anyone expect a man to be on time the morning after his wedding?" he scoffed.

Tearanae giggled and Alistair flushed again but turned to keep up with them both as they headed down the hall. "Married bliss already? And here I thought you'd warn me. Some friend you are." he muttered sarcastically.

Tearanae glanced over at Alistair and smiled at him. "What shall I do? Ring a bell every time we kiss?"

Surprisingly enough they all got a small laugh out of that small comment. Loghain shook his head and smiled at his witty new bride even as the king shot her a friendly grin. He felt a stab of jealousy in that moment…and realized perhaps what had motivated his daughter to go to such lengths to separate them. They were close. However, as the two returned to an easy, silent walk up the hall, the old general knew that his jealousy was unfounded. At least…as far as the king was concerned.

Waiting for them at the doors to the hall was the taciturn Warden who Loghain had overseen in the south. The one he had spotted the night before his wedding with a longing look in his eyes. And now…there it was again. Either Tearanae did not notice or else she didn't comment as she perked up at the sight of the other warden. She smiled warmly at him and Loghain felt his irritation with the boy rise. Here, then, was a true competitor for her affections.

"Nathaniel, I see you've managed to convince Velana that you would make the better escort." she commented as they drew up to the last of the Howes.

The lad nodded and a hint of a smile lingered on his lips that made Loghain almost bristle with envy. "It was not an easy feat, I assure you, Commander. The court and the lords of the landsmeet are waiting to hear your address. After that, it's a small banquet and you and the Lord Loghain will be attributed your new titles," he informed her, holding out his hand for her to take.

Loghain knew it was tradition. He knew the consequences and failings if he toyed with such traditions. Especially on such grand a scale. But he did not wish to let the elf go. He released her reluctantly and she took Nathaniel's hand and turned from him to be led away. His hand squeezed into a fist at his side when she did not once look back and instead remained focused on the younger man now proudly holding her hand. "After all the pomp and ceremony is over then you will be off to enjoy your honeymoon…although I noticed you've yet to make plans." Loghain heard Nathaniel say as they drifted further away.

Tearanae's response was casual…but telling. Or at least…it was to him. "There are pressing matters I must see to. I'm afraid that if I did take a day off everything would crumble…besides…how on Thedas could you survive without me?"

…..

Loghain thought much about the young Howe holding his wife's hand through much of the day. His mind wandered during the public addresses to the peasantry and nobles. Thankfully his own speech was short and easily recited from memory. People hardly seemed all that interested in what he had to say anyway. This allowed him time enough to ponder as he stood or sat there, half-listening to the goings-on around him. He knew the Howe boy loved his new wife. That much had become painfully clear. Even now, Loghain could see him on the periphery, standing there in silence…watching his Commander fervently or else purposefully directing his gaze elsewhere. What Loghain had not considered was that his wife might also love him in return. He had guessed that she was ignorant or blind to the situation… but the more he considered the petite elf the more he began to think that wasn't the truth of it.

Tearanae looked innocent and naive but he knew that she had cunning and unreasonable amounts of perception. She most likely knew or at the very least had an inkling of how Nathaniel felt for her. He tried to remind himself that she had not asked for this wedding…but she had agreed to it. She had seemed eager at times and he had thought…

But what had he thought? That the beautiful slip of a girl might be infatuated with him? It was a ridiculous notion. Almost an impossibility given the history between them. Had he allowed himself to fall so completely under her spell? He felt a mire of emotions settle in his gut. Not the least of them was envy. Had he been just a decade younger or she a decade older…If her appetites weren't so strong and decidedly clear. If they had never been enemies…

If things had been different…

Then perhaps she would be his completely.

As he often did, he thought of Maric. Of how the man had devoted himself to his marriage to Rowan despite a shattered heart. Of how miserable and nearly unconsolable he had been after her death. And then…oddly enough…he considered the Wardens who had come and whisked the King of Fereldon away in the dark one night. Only two of them had really survived…or so he had thought until the elf told him of the silent dwarf she had met accompanying The Architect. Then again, from her description he wasn't quite sure if the dwarf had truly survived at all. Of the other two, one had died at Ostagar. The blame for that death lied with Loghain apparently…or so people were so quick to remind him. And the third…

She had been an elven mage as well, although dark haired and of a more rich complexion than his own pretty bride. She was Grand Enchanter now, if he recalled. Grand Enchanter…and the son she had told Maric not to claim was now sitting on the Throne of Fereldon. He realized that there were only two people left on Thedas who knew that secret, that Alistair Therin, King of Fereldon, was the child of an elven mage. Ultimately, it was for the best. Should news of his true heritage escape, he would most certainly be stripped from the throne, Therin blood or no. A ridiculous notion in Loghain's opinion. The boy was Maric's; anyone who looked at him could see that. Everyone admitted he was a bastard. If the bannorn had decided to overlook that to give him a throne and a crown, why alter their opinions for the truth?

Maric had run off and slept with an elf. And not for the first time. Loghain had seen it as an insult to Rowan's memory at first…although he'd slowly learned to accept the truth of the matter. He was far better with it now than he had been some eighteen years ago; that much he knew for certain.

But when he thought of Maric now, he thought of how he had married a woman he had not loved in the same way he had loved another woman. And Rowan had married him knowing that…and knowing as well that another man loved her. Or at least…Loghain hoped she knew he loved her. He hoped that she had loved him too…although it pained him to think of how much he must have hurt her. Was this the Maker's cruel sentence for him then?

To be shackled into a marriage with a woman who might love another…who was certainly loved by another? He was unsure if he loved his new wife, although he did care for her. She was engaging, fascinating, and a true source of enjoyment in the bedroom. Any man on Thedas would be overjoyed to be wed to her, love or no. She enraptured people simply by being now. She had, after all, proven her worth. And it was the only thing she had needed to prove. One glance and all her other wifely qualities could be easily and happily assessed. Yet he was still unsure. He was more certain that there could be little love from her towards him…although he suspected she was at the very least fond of him.

Perhaps that would be enough to see them through this marriage, sham though it might turn out to be. He hoped not. He hoped that she could, at the very least, grow to love him. He hoped he could grow to love her. It would certainly make things far easier for everyone if they did.

He snapped out of his thoughts mid-way through the day as he kneeled before the throne beside Tearanae, anxiously watching as Maric's son approached them with his father's sword. Loghain recognized it easily; the lad had not once relinquished the blade since recovering it from Ostagar. He still remembered how the boy had threatened to execute him with it. For a moment, as he looked up at the young King, he could see that he remembered that time as well. His grip on the blade tightened, but then, after a brief glance at the petite elf beside the kneeling Teryn, his hand relaxed. He rose the blade and adopted as regal an expression as he could muster…the boy still needed to work on that, Loghain noted silently to himself.

"I, King Alistair Therin of Ferelden, dub thee Teryn Loghain under the sight of the Maker. You shall henceforth hold the title of Arless of Amaranthine so long as your marriage endures. Any heirs you beget of Arl Tearanae Surana shall inherit this title and the lands of Gwaren under the title of Teryn." He proclaimed, sounding very nearly as official as Anora might have sounded if she had done so. Instead, the Queen stood in the background, knowing full well that if she had bestowed the titles, it would be seen as favoring her father and the action questioned. No one, however, would question the king who had wanted to see the River Dane executed for his crimes. He touched the flat of Maric's blade to each of Loghain's shoulders and the old general would have been lying if he had said he wasn't a tad bit relieved when he did not lose a bit of his ear in the process.

Alistair took two steps and then turned, only a little awkwardly, toward the kneeling elf. Before her, he seemed to grow lighter, smiling before remembering he wasn't supposed to and quickly regaining his 'regal' composure. "I, King Alistair Therin of Ferelden, dub thee Tearanae Surana under the sight of the Maker. You shall henceforth hold the title of Teryna of Gwaren so long as your marriage endures. Any heirs you beget of Teryn Loghain MacTir shall inherit this title and the lands of Amaranthine under the title of Arl."

As he had with Loghain, the King touched the elf's shoulders with the flat tip of the blade before stepping back, sheathing the sword and holding up a hand for them to rise. "You may rise, Teryn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren, Arless of Amaranthine, Hero of the River Dane and Arl Tearanae Surana of Amaranthine, Teryna of Gwaren, Commander of the Grey of Ferelden, Hero of Ferelden."

As he rose and turned, Loghain actively had to fight back a smile as he heard Alistair mutter under his breath. "Maker, I hope I didn't forget anything…"

….

The rest of the day was something of a quiet and hectic blur…one in which Loghain saw his new wife often, but was not once close enough to speak to her. He lost track of her sometime during the evening festivities, the little elf having excused herself to speak to one of her attendants and then disappearing for some time after that. Growing weary of her absence and having to sit through yet more political talks and dialogue at his position at the High Table, the River Dane excused himself and opted simply to retire to his room. It had been, after all, a very long day.

He turned down a hallway toward the Royal wing, when he caught sight of his new wife out of the corner of his eye. She was in a library, half tucked away behind a shelf of books, talking in an agitated but quiet murmur. Loghain stopped and looked at her, his natural suspicion and curiosity piquing. As he watched, someone took her hand and dragged her forward, out of his sight. He had not recognized the hand that did so, but knew it to be masculine in nature and garbed in light leather. Despite himself, the Teryn stepped quickly but quietly into the library, hiding himself behind a nearby pillar and corner set of shelves. He could hear them now, his wife and a voice he might not have recognized if he had not heard it just that morning…and been obsessing over it the whole day since.

"-not do this. Please Commander, there must be another more suited." the Howe boy was saying…or pleading. Although he had not seemed the sort to do so.

"I am sending the most suited, Nathaniel. You've spent time in the Free Marches; you know the land in ways that the others do not. If I could send Sigurn or Velana, I would but they do not know how to blend in the way that you do. A company will be waiting for you; you won't be alone. This is important—," the elf was stating, doing her best to sound firm and as commanding as possible. Thankfully, she was much better at it than the King.

"To whom Commander? To the Grey Wardens? Or you? I was the one who delivered that missive. I know what it told you. Hasn't the Divine's Left Hand told you enough about Anders? Why can you not use her spies to—," the boy argued, sounding as irritated with the elf as she had looked with him.

"This isn't about Anders! He's made his choice. If I get involved with him now, I will just appear complicit. I've sent him letters telling him what I think. He's chosen to either ignore them or else cannot bring himself to reply. Either way, I have tried to reach him. I will not force him to return if he doesn't wish too…I am well aware of how terribly he responds to that sort of treatment." she snapped. Loghain could hear her wrenching her arm free from his grasp and shuffling slightly. He pictured her taking a half step back…adjusting the blue gown he had seen her don that very morning.

"But this isn't about the Thaig the Champion of Kirkwall found either, is it? Otherwise, you would have accepted whatever report the local Wardens sent you. So what is it? Why do you care so much to send me away?" he demanded, the Howe boy proving Loghain's estimations of his intuitiveness correct as he dug at the mage for a reply.

She hesitated, he could hear her breath stagger as she warred with some inner emotion. "I received…there was a letter… a rogue assassin hiding amongst the Dalish. A crow…hunted by other crows." She admitted, her voice shaky.

There was a long pause. Loghain listened as Nathaniel shifted, although what he was doing he could not truly tell. He thought, for a moment, that he could hear his hand brushing against the fabric of his wife's dress. "Commander…Tearanae … you believe it's them? Do you still care for them? Even now…after all they've done to you?"

Another sharp shift and the weak sound of her fighting back, her voice breaking as she did. "Do not look at me that way. Do not pity me! I am well aware of what they have done…how on Thedas could I forget it? But I…I cannot help that I still care for them. I wish things had not been this way but their only sin was loving each other more than they loved me. If…if they had but told me…" Loghain caught the shattering of her voice, the shaky way she took in a ragged breath. The waver that told him she was either fighting back tears or already crying.

There was the sound of another small shift, the softest of brushing sounds. Was he wiping away her tears? Loghain closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillar, fighting against the urge to round the corner and toss the younger man aside. He wanted to comfort his new bride and couldn't help the agitation that she might be allowing someone else to do it for him.

A quiet moment passed and when she spoke again her voice was steadier. "I will always care for Ricker and Zevran. We will never be what I might have wanted when I first began to love them… but I've learned …over and over…that I will not always get what I desire. If I did…well…I would not be here today." She paused a moment, taking in a breath before he could hear her shift, take a step…although he could not tell if it was toward the Howe boy or away.

"Please Nathaniel. I am trusting you with this because I am unsure if I can trust anyone else." The elf was pleading…Loghain could tell. She was not beneath it, he knew, although he suspected she only did so with those closest to her now.

The young archer moved; Loghain could almost see him nodding. "If it will please you, I will see it done. I will try to investigate the Thaig quickly then…" He took a step and Loghain knew that it was away from her for it sounded a shade fainter. The boy's legs hesitated even if he tried not to show it. He obviously didn't want to leave her. "And…if I should run into Anders?"

The elf paused; Loghain pictured her brow furrowing as she contemplated her response. Finally, his wife let out a small breath that sounded at once longing and agitated. "You're perceptive, Nathaniel… and you know him. See if it's true. See how much of Anders truly remains. If he's allowed Justice to twist who he was so far as to do something drastic…I am unsure… I only know that if anyone is to kill that man, it shall be me. He is my responsibility and I will not let his actions shame the Wardens or the work I have done. He wanted his freedom; let him bear the responsibility that comes with it." She sounded commanding then, and worried…both concerned friend and fair commander. A tiny bit of pride managed to break through the thick maelstrom of emotions Loghain was trying so hard to keep locked behind a wall.

A movement from the Howe boy and then Loghain heard his steps and saw him leave through another door, never once seeing the old general hidden in his corner where he had eavesdropped on their conversation. The Teryn was thankful for that…he might not have been able to keep his hands to himself if the lad had confronted him.

His wife however seemed to hesitate, her feet shifting back and forth for a moment before she turned and her feet went quickly toward the door Loghain had entered from. He spotted her as she turned, a noticeable wetness clinging to the corners of her eyes as she left. Loghain watched her go…and lingered in his hidden corner, unsure which emotion and fact to consider and analyze first. The envy that burned at her closeness with the Howe boy—lover or not, there was intimacy there that made his hand itch for a blade. The noticeable sympathy he felt for her as the news of the men she had loved might be near enough to contact for the first time since the end of the blight. Or perhaps the suspicion over her knowledge of the goings on in Kirkwall.

His wife was well connected it seemed and apparently flexing her power enough to attempt to test the waters in that conflicted region. He considered the woman from the Chantry who had approached him the night of his wedding. If what Cassandra Pentaghast had said held any truth at all, it was that the Commander of the Grey was moving and influencing events in Kirkwall. The trick would be to learn how much of what was happening there was by his bride's doing. Not as much, perhaps, as the Chantry agent might have feared…but certainly more than he had first surmised if she was truly receiving news from Leilana still. How much was the Divine's Left Hand telling her? How much influence could she truly use?

Loghain thought on these things silently in the library for some time, without coming to any true conclusion. Ultimately, he returned to his bedchambers with only one true conclusion at hand. Whatever was happening between his wife and Howe's son, between his wife and the Free Marches…he would have to find a way glean it from the source. From her. He dared not ask her for fear of giving himself away. But perhaps with time, he could learn for himself just how much more trust she placed in her little rogue than she did in him.