This chapter brought to you today by the wonderful snow storm that hit New Jersey and gave us a snow day today! Even teachers love a surprise day off!

Chapter 73: The Crown

Alistair stood still, his sword held in front of him with its tip touching the floor. His shoulders were slumped over as the fury left him and profound sadness took its place. He hadn't meant to lose control during the duel, and suddenly he as if he were almost as monstrous as Loghain himself. As he tried to pull himself together, Eamon walked to the front of the chamber.

"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne," Eamon stated quietly.

Alistair tried to pull himself out of his shock from the duel and hear what Eamon said. "Wait, what? No!"

Anora stepped around her father's head, seemingly unflustered by his death. "He refuses the throne. Everyone here has heard him. I think it's clear then, that he abdicates in favor of me." Anora looked out at the people in front of her as she tried to hide her gloating.

Eamon frowned. "I hardly think you are the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora." He looked hopefully at Aeden. "Warden, will you help us?"

Aeden nodded. "Yes I can settle this."

Anora reached over and grabbed Aeden's shoulder. "You and I have a deal, Warden. I hope you remember your promise," she hissed through her teeth.

Aeden looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I made you no promise, Anora. I am sworn to stop the Blight, no matter the cost. Alistair will be put on his father's throne, for the good of Ferelden."

"You told me he and I would have a political marriage." She glared at him, her calm demeanor giving away to her inner shrew.

Aeden smiled at her knowingly. "I only told you that I would speak to him about the… possibility. However that will not be possible for two reasons. The first is due to some very interesting documents we found in Cailan's locked chest when we returned to Ostagar and put his body to rest. I have no doubt that you know what these documents refer to, your majesty, and that you would prefer that I do not make public the content."

Anora flinched. Aeden knew he had hit a major nerve with the icy woman.

"And the second reason, Warden?" she stammered.

"Alistair couldn't possibly marry you. He is already married."

As Anora stood there, mouth agape in shock, Eamon cleared his throat. "As the arbiter of this dispute, what is your decision? Who will lead Ferelden?"

Aeden straightened his back and was careful to project and enunciate clearly, as his father had always taught him to do whenever he had to address a large audience. He looked his friend squarely in the eye as he said one word, "Alistair."

Alistair followed Aeden's lead, speaking just as clearly as his friend. "And I accept that decision."

Eamon looked sternly at Anora. "Anora, the Landsmeet has decided against you. You must now swear fealty to our king, and relinquish all claim to the throne for yourself and your heirs."

"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me," she spat at him.

Aeden looked at her warily. "You will have to do something about her, Alistair."

He nodded sadly. "I suppose that's true."

"We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of civil war. We must have unity. If she will not swear fealty to you, Alistair, and renounce her claim to the throne, she is a threat to us all."

Alistair straightened his back and looked at her. He knew that his own mind was still reeling from the outcome of the duel, and he felt sympathy for Anora who was standing there looking like a cornered animal. Perhaps if she were given time to grieve for her father and to reflect on everything that was wrong with her rule, she would reconsider and swear fealty at a later time. "Put her in the tower for now. I hardly think now is the proper time for any more life changing decisions. We must move on to the Blight. After we have defeated the archdemon, we will discuss this further."

Eamon agreed. "Very well then. Guards, take her away."

The guards walked to Anora. As the captain of the guard took her arm, she shook his hand off with great annoyance. "You shall not touch me. I am your queen, whether the Landsmeet agrees or not." She walked out of the chamber, holding her head high, refusing to accept her fate.

As soon as the escort was out of the chamber, Eamon turned back to Alistair. "Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?"

Alistair smiled sheepishly. "Oh… that would be me. Right… um, I never knew him, but from all I've heard of my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land." He nervously ran his hand through his hair.

Having already seen how anxious her husband was, Delia had quietly moved to his side. She touched his arm and smiled at him as he looked at her. "Just tell them what to do," she whispered approvingly.

Suddenly Alistair felt at ease. He took a deep breath, smiled at his wife, and continued to speak. "Everyone, get ready to march. It's going to take all of Ferelden's might to survive this Blight."

As the nobles roared in approval, Alistair looked at his companions with determination in his eyes. "We'd better get going. Ferelden is depending on us."

As much as Alistair wanted to meet with his companions to formulate a strategy, he was suddenly besieged by nobles who insisted on having a war council. Reluctantly, Alistair agreed. He asked Aeden, Riordan and Oghren to assist with the council and Shale to stay for protection. For some reason, he didn't think any of the nobles would even attempt an attack with his own personal golem standing behind him!

As the nobles began to leave the chamber either to return to their houses or to the council chamber, Alistair took Delia aside.

"Listen, I want you to be here with me, but I think you need to get Dairren back to the estate. He needs to rest. Take the others with you and I'll be there as soon as I can."

Delia looked at him and sighed. "I understand. Just… be careful. I'll see you later then."

Alistair pulled her close and kissed her. As he heard Aeden clear his throat from the doorway, he pulled back, smiled at her apologetically, and strode away. Delia couldn't help but be impressed at how confident he seemed. Alistair suddenly really looked like a king, and she felt, just as suddenly, unworthy of her husband.

Delia walked to the corner of the chamber where her companions were gathered. Dairren was sitting next to Wynne and he looked at her expectantly as she drew closer.

"Are we going back to the estate? Have you seen Father anywhere?" Dairren seemed overly anxious.

Delia kneeled in front of him and put her hand on his knee. "We're going to the estate now, and no, I haven't seen Father. I expect he's left with all the other lesser nobles." As she stood back up she looked around at her friends. "Alistair said they would meet us at the estate later, so let's go there now."

Delia followed behind the group as Sten and Wynne led the way. Trent was assisting Dairren with Leliana's help. Noticing her gloomy demeanor, Zevran moved next to Delia who was absentmindedly scratching Griffon behind his ear.

"Ah, such a sad face for a woman as lovely as you. Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Zevran cooed as he slipped his arm around her waist.

"Oh, just feeling out of sorts. I'll be fine." She tried to smile at him, but he knew better.

Zevran tried the entire walk back to the estate to tease her out of her mood. He finally got a smile from her as they entered the market square when a man approached him from the shadows.

"I'm here to atone. I did you bad with that last tip. It can't end like that! Those noble ponces won't have the last laugh, eh?" The man looked around to see if there were others listening. "You game for one last heist?"

Zevran frowned. "This better go down better than last time."

"No bloody trap this time I'd stake my life on it… well, yours too. We're stealing the Tears of Andraste."

Delia gasped. "The Tears of Andraste?"

The man looked at her seriously. "You care about the history? Don't know how much of a Chantry going folk you are."

Zevran looked at the man with a raised eyebrow. "Tell me about the tears."

The man wrung his hands. "There aren't many things as holy as the Tears of Andraste. Legend has it before the Maker spoke to Andraste She despaired at the fate of Her fellows. Her husband, Maferath – before he became a right bastard – would come to console her. She would tell him of Her despair, and She'd always shed a single tear. Every night he captured each tear in a vial. A full thirty nights that went on. Maferath was worried sick. On the thirtieth night the vial was full and when dawn came that's when Andraste had her first vision of the Maker. Some of that story isn't in the Chant of Light, but it's been passed on for ages. Everyone agrees that the Tears are a holy relic."

"Do the Tears do anything?" Delia asked curiously.

"They're holy, precious and… wet. But it's what they symbolize that's important."

"So who has it now?" Zevran asked, his tone darkening.

"Bann Franderal's father secretly acquired the real Tears decades ago. And his son still has them locked up tight. The same Franderal that baited that trap. So I propose you go to his real vault. And rob him blind." The man's face twitched. "Afterwards, I'll see that the Tears of Andraste are given to the Chantry."

Delia stood there as the man explained to Zevran how to break into the estate. After they shook hands and the man left, Delia looked at her friend in astonishment.

"You can't possibly believe that thief would give the Tears to the Chantry, do you? He doesn't seem the honorable sort."

Zevran laughed. "Oh, he's honorable as far as thieves go. He and I have had our… dealings in the past. He has never steered me wrong. Well, there was the last job. The one that Bann Franderal set his trap and we were nearly caught, but alas, the Bann cannot outsmart me."

"Do you intend to go after the Tears? Do you really believe the Bann has them?" she whispered so no one would hear.

"I doubt he actually has them. However, the directions my friend Slim has provided will indeed gain entrance to the Bann's secret vault. I am certain that such a venture could be very profitable."

"When do you intend to go?"

"I will coax my shadier friends to go with me tonight, for I believe your handsome husband will ask us to leave Denerim tomorrow. Time is of the essence!" He smiled at her teasingly.

"Zev, can I go with you?" Delia wanted to protect the Tears. She had learned about them in her religion class back at school and worried that they might fall into the hands of someone who would try to use them for the wrong reasons.

Zevran took her face between his hands. "No, my lovely Delia. I cannot allow you to take such a risk. You will be crowned Queen of Ferelden."

"Well, would you promise me something?"

"Anything, mi hermana."

"If you find the Tears, would you give them to me instead of Slim? I can't in good conscience allow such an important artifact to fall to the hands of our enemies. Please, Zev…"

Zevran smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "I never intended to give him something so valuable. However, you have my word that should I locate these Tears, they shall be yours to do with as you please."

Delia smiled and nodded at him. "Thank you, mi hermano." She hugged him tight.

Zevran hugged her back just as tightly. His face betrayed the feelings he tried so hard to hide. This woman was the only person who honestly had ever cared for him, and he would not disappoint her. This was something he would do for her that no one else could, not even her flesh and blood brother. Perhaps it was a way to cement their relationship forever, for he feared losing his sister. Having never been allowed to fear during his life in the Crows, he worried that he was losing his edge.

"Come, my dear. Let us get back to the estate before you are missed."

Once inside the estate, a servant gave Delia a note from her brother. He wished to speak to her privately, so after making sure their other companions were fine Delia walked to Dairren's quarters. She found her brother shaking in a chair next to the fireplace.

"Dairren are you alright? Are you cold?" She picked up the extra blanket at the foot of his bed and started to wrap it around his shoulders.

He threw it off with an angry look. "No, I'm not cold. I am terrified! You and I are sheep led to the slaughter! You can't possibly believe Father's act at the Landsmeet today, can you?"

Delia sat in the chair next to his and looked into his eyes. His terror was flooding her talent and she felt overwhelmed. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on top of his and tried to think logically.

"Neither of us will ever be able to trust Father. Not after everything we've been through. I wasn't close enough to him to know what he was feeling, and my instinct tells me it was an act. However, there is a part of me that wishes that it could be real."

"How will we be safe here? We should leave at once; perhaps take a ship back to Antiva." His face clearly showed his frustration. "There is no one who can protect us from him."

Delia grew angry. "My friends will protect us. Alistair will protect us."

Dairren stood up heatedly. "Alistair. Just how will he protect us, hmm? Didn't you notice how he immediately left your side after the Landsmeet? He has his crown – now he no longer needs you."

Delia slapped her brother across his cheek. "How… dare… you. You know nothing about Alistair, but you should remember your lessons on Landsmeet protocols. I could not attend the war council meeting even if he wanted me to. I have not been made queen yet, and he could only bring a few people with him."

"And by now Father will have recruited all his evil friends to come and rescue us from the wardens. Your friends will not be able to fight against his minions." Dairren stormed across the room. "You used to trust my judgment. You used to listen to what I felt was the best course of action. What has happened to us?"

Delia took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "Dairren, you have no idea how difficult our obstacles have been ever since Duncan rescued Aeden and me from Highever. No matter how many words I use, you weren't there. You must believe me when I tell you that our companions are among the most incredible group of fighters you could imagine. We have fought demons, werewolves, golems... and lived to tell the tales. Please have faith in my judgment."

She walked over to her brother and gently placed her hand on his arm to turn him toward her. He looked at her so sadly. He looked so lost and alone, and Delia didn't know what the true problem was.

"So… I guess you don't need me then." The words came from Dairren's mouth and cut Delia as much as any knife.

"How can you say that?" she whispered irritably. "You are my brother – my twin! You were my entire world for the better portion of my life! It's not my fault things have changed since Antiva. And it's not like we didn't expect that things would be different anyway. After all, you were going to be fighting with Teryn Cousland and Mother was trying to convince Aeden to marry me. Instead you were tortured and I have been the one fighting."

"And then there's Alistair…" he hissed through his teeth.

"Why do you dislike Alistair so much? He has been wonderful to me."

"Oh really? I know these warriors. How many other women has he sweet talked before you? How long did it take for you to sleep with him?"

Delia's mouth opened in shock. "Alistair was always a complete gentleman with me. We never slept together until we were married. There was one time when he could have taken advantage of me when I nearly froze to death and he slept by my side all night to keep me warm, but he never was anything but chivalrous. The boys at school were far more forward than Alistair ever was! If you don't believe me, ask Trent or Wynne, or anyone else who has been traveling with us!"

Dairren was still fuming, but carefully thought before he spoke again. "Perhaps I should leave by myself then. Obviously there is no place for me here."

"What? Don't say that." Tears formed in her eyes and started to roll down her cheeks. "I only just got you back…"

"And what does that matter. Father will have me dead in no time. I have no other place to go. There is nothing for me here in Ferelden."

Delia thought quickly. "And what if I could secure a position for you? I might have some influence with the king, after all. You would be protected by the Royal Guard. And Alistair will need educated advisors as well as his warriors. Please, Dairren, don't give up so hastily. And don't think I don't need you. I will always need you, and your niece or nephew will need you too."

Dairren's shoulders slumped in exhaustion. He walked back to his chair and sat heavily. Delia walked behind him and put her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He placed his hand on hers and leaned his head against her cheek.

"Dairren, I love you. I missed you more than words could ever say. You have to accept my marriage. I don't want to lose you again! Alistair will do whatever he can to make you comfortable, I promise. I know him, and more than that, I believe in him. Please try, my brother."

She walked to the door and left him. When he heard the door close, Dairren started to sob quietly. He might be terrified of his father, but the thought of losing his sister was the worst torture he had ever endured.