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Chapter 28 - Fire and Ice
I swear to you
I will always be there for you
there's nothing I won't do
I promise you
all my life I will live for you
we will make it through
Forever, we will be
Together, you and me
Oh and when I hold ya
nothing can compare
With all of my heart
ya know I'll always be
right there
Bryan Adams - I'll always be right there
.
.
Fiona could not have been more surprised at what she was hearing. She gazed up at her son, and saw the steely determination on his face and knew that he was going to go through with it, so she would be wasting her breath. Nevertheless, she did throw in a word or two of caution.
"Alistair, what if you do have to take the throne? Don't you see how much pain and suffering this would cause you both? They would call for an annulment."
"I'm sure they would," Alistair replied calmly. "However, I'm not taking the throne, and if I do..."
She raised her eyebrows at him.
"If you do...what?"
"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," he grinned.
It was maddening. Maric had been the King of Improvisation. Yet this young man before her often thought things clearly before taking a single step.
She sighed. "All right. I think it's best we head over to the Cathedral right away. I'm sure that they will speak to us and you'll be able to get married as soon as you want. The 'Defender of Orlais' seems to be very popular here these days."
"Good to know."
"Don't you think Chantalle ought to be coming with us?" Fiona pressed.
"Oh. She's busy right now. I sent Leliana to get her to a good seamstress where she can find a wedding dress for her. It will probably take all day. I didn't want to go to that. It's bad enough listening to Leliana talk about shoes all the time," he grinned.
"And so you send her off with Chantalle? How very cruel of you," she smirked. "Let us be off, then!"
...
She stood in front of the throne, lost in thought and waiting for the arrival of her contact. Strong and determined, she swept an icy look around the room, which was fairly empty at the time.
Her mind was busy with her plans. As much as she longed to take action and send out the warrant for Alistair's arrest, she knew that she couldn't. She needed the nobles help at the Landsmeet and would have to wait.
She smoothed her dress and turned around. The throne stood there, in full view.
Her throne.
She walked over to it and sat, the wheels in her mind still turning.
The Landsmeet would be two days after Satinalia and she was looking forward to it. She would have had the nobles convene sooner, but some of them were required to travel so the present schedule would just have to do. She wasn't going to lose her calmness when victory was so close.
The massive doors to the throne room opened and a guard announced the visitor she expected.
She gave a small smile and rose while she waited patiently for him to walk up to the steps that led up to the dais where she was standing. He knelt before her on one knee murmuring his greeting to her.
"Rise. What news do you bring?" Her cold voice commanded.
"My Queen, it is not what you were hoping for," the man stammered and fell silent.
Her icy blue eyes bore into his, searing him in spite of her coldness. She motioned to the guards stationed behind her.
"Leave us. I want the room cleared immediately."
The guards bowed and obeyed. As soon as the room was empty, she turned back to the man in front of her, who was waiting for her to speak.
"Continue with your report, Edgar," she said in a low voice.
"My Queen, Warden Commander Alistair Theirin has been in Orlais battling darkspawn. Apparently Orlais had been suffering severe attacks and some of the towns and villages have been completely destroyed. Val Royeaux is full of refugees."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she kept her emotions in check. Cool and composed was what she was best at doing, and so cool and composed she remained.
"Has he managed to defeat the darkspawn?" She was concerned, but not for the people of Orlais. She knew very well that a threat like that could easily spread into Ferelden if not stopped in time.
"Yes, my Queen. The attacks have stopped, and my contacts in Orlais report that they have lost track of him and his group. They think he was making his way towards the Frostback Mountains, but cannot be sure."
She stiffened at this.
"I do not pay you so generously for you to have doubts. Do you understand?" Her voice was so low, he scarcely heard her, and even though he did, he wished he hadn't. The Queen had a reputation of being harsh as well as cold. It would not do to anger her.
"Yes, my Queen. I understand perfectly, he said, keeping his eyes on the floor.
"You will tell your contacts to redouble their efforts. I want to know exactly what is happening. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Queen," he murmured again.
"Very well. Please leave me."
The man did not have to be told twice. He knelt once again and then hurried down the corridor and out the doors.
She stood there for a few moments, a frown slowly creasing her pretty brow, her blue eyes clouded with worry. She knew that the information she had received would take a while to spread into Ferelden, especially since it came from Orlais. She was confident that it would not reach the nobles' ears before the Landsmeet.
She had changed a lot over the years. When she had been married to Cailan, she had been well loved by the people and had always had a smile for everyone. Even though she had been composed and a bit cool, she had also been fair. She also knew, however, that the people loved her more because of Cailan. And now that she was alone, after all that had happened, her coldness had returned anew, with more vehemence than before.
Her thoughts turned to the man that she was seeking to destroy.
Alistair Theirin. Heir to the throne of Ferelden. King Maric's only bastard son, alive and currently Warden Commander of Ferelden. A title that she knew little about and did not really care enough to know. The only thing important to her right now was arresting him and having him executed. He was a threat to her and Ferelden. She had honestly thought that his visit to Orlais had been to gather forces to take the throne from her, but upon discovering that this what not so, she did not back away from her resolve to destroy him.
She loathed him with a passion.
For Warden Commander Alistair Theirin had murdered her father two years ago in this very room. He had executed the Hero of River Dane in front of all the nobles. And while she had gained the throne after the deed, she was not pleased with what had happened.
He had taken Loghain Mac Tir's life.
Her father.
The only thing she held dear in all of Thedas.
And now that she was alone, she had grown bitter. The hatred for him and the memory of her father's death constantly jarring her cool composure.
Her chest began to heave slightly as her breath quickened from the memory of it all. She fought to control her emotions and was pleased when she was able to do so. She regained her outer calmness and icy demeanor almost immediately. The same one she wore every day in court. The same one that had stopped an Elven uprising by slaughtering a crowd of elves in the Alienage recently. The same one that focused mainly on procuring money for the throne and Ferelden, yet did nothing to relieve the commoners from their burdens. What was important was Ferelden at all cost. Even if it meant sacrificing second-class citizens and commoners in the process.
The people of Denerim did not call her 'The Ice Queen' for nothing.
...
Alistair was extremely happy at the moment. He had just been to the Cathedral with Fiona. The wedding had been arranged for the following morning. He could hardly wait and his whole being vibrated with anticipation.
Fiona walked beside him, having a bit of trouble keeping up. She had to give little runs to walk by his side, for he was walking at a fast pace, taking long strides as he walked. He was not paying attention to anything but what was going on in his mind. He was a little surprised, therefore, when he suddenly found himself walking alone, Fiona having stopped a few paces back, unable to keep up with him.
When his eyes found her, standing in the middle of the square, he could see that she was glaring at him, her hands on her hips.
"What?" He said, oblivious to what was happening.
"I just cannot keep up with you, Alistair. I don't take huge steps like you do! And you're walking so fast!" She was still glaring.
"Oh! Sorry about that. I-uh- didn't notice," he said contritely.
"Obviously."
She walked up to him but his eyes had suddenly found Leliana and his future bride, carrying packages as they made their way through the crowds of people. His face lit up as he ran towards them, while Fiona rolled her eyes and followed.
Alistair gave Chantalle a quick kiss as Leliana sighed happily at the sight of him.
"Alistair! Thank the Maker! A gentleman to the rescue!" She quickly deposited a series of packages she was holding into his arms, and Fiona smiled as she urged Chantalle to do the same, even placing the packages in his arms herself. Soon he could barely see where he was walking, so he started to walk with them very slowly, watching his step carefully.
He soon discovered that he was being left behind.
"He-ey," he huffed behind them. "I can hardly keep up with everything I'm carrying, would you mind slowing down over there?"
And from somewhere in front of him came Fiona's voice.
"Oh! Sorry about that. We-uh-didn't notice."
He immediately noticed the smirk in her voice and groaned.
...
The wedding was absolutely beautiful. The wardens who were close to them attended, but she walked the aisle alone, looking straight at Alistair.
Alistair felt like he was in some kind of a dream. Surely the beautiful woman walking towards him in the flowing cream colored dress was a vision? He found himself drifting during the ceremony staring at her, and as the wedding was in Orlesian, Fiona had been nearby, whispering all the important parts in Ferelden.
He did manage to smile happily when they were pronounced man and wife, right on cue, and then it was time to kiss his bride, which he did most passionately, earning blushes from the Revered Mother and whistles and guffaws from his fellow wardens, Duran and Oghren specifically.
He didn't care one bit. For the first time in the last few months he did not blush at all, and rested his forehead against hers after the kiss was over. Then they walked the aisle together back to the entrance of the grand cathedral and towards the compound.
The tables in the mess hall had been pushed to the sides of the large room and they were laden with food and drink. They had bards singing and playing musical instruments, and people were dancing already.
Alistair and Chantalle found themselves dancing after Anders bet that he couldn't do it without stepping on her toes. He accepted the challenge.
He stumbled over his feet all the time they were dancing and blushed profusely.
"I'm really bad at this," he mumbled apologetically. "But now that I want to win the bet, I'm keeping away from your feet, and mine keep getting tangled up in the process."
She laughed at this, and he grinned. If his stumbling would make her grin like that, then he would happily stumble all night long.
Duran and Oghren were drinking ale and Anders was chatting to Leliana. Leonie was mingling with everyone, her dimpled smile all over the place.
And then, just as Alistair and Chantalle were getting ready to make their way to their room unnoticed, a warden ran into the hall, nervous and out of breath. He was the leader of the scouting group that had been sent just outside the city gates to patrol and watch for anything amiss.
Leonie approached him as he stood there gasping for breath for a few minutes. The dancing stopped, and the music faded, the bards suddenly unnaturally quiet.
After speaking to the man for a few minutes, Leonie turned to face Alistair and Chantalle, a frown on her face.
"Bad news, wardens. Darkspawn have been sighted just outside the city gates. One of them spoke to Antoine. He said that he wanted the Warden Commander of Ferelden to come to the underground tunnels with his group and the elven mage."
"Here we go," whispered Alistair under his breath.
...