Chapter 75: Troop Movement

Morning came far too quickly for Alistair. He woke to the most wonderful feeling – he had slept very well and the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was his beautiful wife sleeping in his arms. She looked so peaceful and comfortable, and he hated to rouse her but knew they had their responsibilities to attend to.

He reached over and moved a stray hair off the front of her face. His hand then gently caressed the contour of her cheek, causing her to stir and open her eyes sleepily.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered as he kissed her softly. "I'm so sorry to have to wake you, but we have a lot to do."

Delia yawned and stretched before pulling her husband close in a hug. "Can't we stay in bed a few more minutes?"

Alistair chuckled softly, kissing her forehead, and was just about to agree when there was a soft knock on the door. "Enter," Alistair called to the visitor.

Aeden entered the door and laughed. "So, I guess that marriage makes you lazy! Sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty, but someone had to wake you up. Or did you forget that we march to Redcliffe this morning?" he teased mercilessly.

Alistair threw a pillow at him. "If you call me 'Your Majesty' one more time when there aren't any non-family members around I'll have you thrown in the stockade for insubordination!" As Aeden laughed even louder, Alistair groaned. "Alright, alright. Give us a few minutes to dress and we'll be downstairs."

As soon as Aeden closed the door the couple dressed and packed their belongings. Once they were ready they walked downstairs carrying their packs. One of the servants noticed them and immediately intervened.

"No, no, no… you mustn't bother yourselves with carrying your packs, Your Majesties. You must call a servant to do such menial tasks for you."

Alistair looked the man straight in the eye and answered him gruffly. "I understand that you are doing your job, but I am still a Grey Warden and I am perfectly capable of carrying my own equipment. Please, just go and carry on with your other duties. If anyone asks, I'll surely tell them that I forced you to allow me to perform such an ordinary task."

He led Delia the rest of the way to the dining room with a scowl on his face, making Delia giggle.

"You'll have to get used to that, you know." She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye.

He sighed. "I suppose so, but I don't think I'll ever like it."

They took seats at a table with Trent and Aeden. Delia looked around and noticed that everyone was there except for one person – Zevran. She grew concerned when he still hadn't shown by the time they left the room for the courtyard. The stable hands had their horses and cart ready before they exited the estate, and as Alistair, Aeden and Riordan walked around to the different divisions of troops to speak to their leaders Delia looked around for Zevran. The group was nearly ready to leave when Zevran finally ran up to them.

"Zev! Where have you been? I was so worried…" Delia shouted as she pulled him into an embrace.

Zevran was flustered. "I assure you, mi hermana, I am perfectly fine. I simply was running an errand for a… a friend."

"What errand? I want to know, Zev." She looked at her friend worriedly.

"Right now I believe we need to leave, but I promise to tell you the tale when we have the opportunity later." He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "Allow me to assist you onto your horse," he said with a smile as he wove his fingers together and held his hands low.

As she mounted her horse, she scrutinized her friend's face. "Alright, but you will explain it to me later. For now, I am very glad that you are safe. Please, don't scare me like that."

"For what it is worth, I am sorry I frightened you, my dear. We will speak of this later, I promise." Zevran left her side and found his own horse, mounting it gracefully.

Delia maneuvered her horse next to her husband's. As soon as Alistair was told that all the troops were ready he gave the signal to begin their trek. The weather could have been worse, but it certainly wasn't optimal. It was cold, and a mist had settled in from the sea making visibility low. Riordan had gone the night before with Eamon and his guard to help them avoid the darkspawn as much as possible, so with him gone, Alistair had asked Zachary to lead the contingent along with his best men. The wardens followed behind Zachary and his group, trailed by the wardens' friends and the remainder of the gathered troops behind.

Their journey was uneventful. Most of Alistair's time was occupied being asked questions by various commanders so Delia moved her horse back so she could converse with Wynne and Leliana. When they finally took a break for a light meal, Alistair sat with his wife. When several other commanders approached he waved them away, telling them they needed some time alone. Delia beamed with pride that he would think to make time specifically for her and that he commanded enough respect by the men that they didn't question his statement.

The afternoon was also spent traveling and when Aeden finally ordered camp to be set up the wardens' companions were surprised when the troops accompanying them refused to allow them to perform the set up work. Instead, they all sat around the campfire as the soldiers performed the tasks. As much as Alistair appreciated the chance to enjoy his friends' company, he found he was uncomfortable watching everyone else work and doing nothing to help. He made a mental note to find a way to remedy the situation after the Blight was defeated.

Another surprise waited for Alistair when it was time for sleep. As he and Delia searched for their humble tent unsuccessfully, Zachary tactfully approached them and escorted them to the royal pavilion that was erected for them by the soldiers. He was immediately reminded of Cailan's pavilion at Ostagar, and, although he was initially disturbed, Delia's delight at having feather cushions to sleep on eased his mind. It certainly was warmer and far more comfortable sleeping on the thin mattress with its matching quilts than it was sleeping on the ground with their thin bedrolls.

Delia had been looking for an opportunity to speak to Zevran privately ever since they left Denerim, and after a day and a half of feeling as though the elf was avoiding her she decided to make it happen as soon as they stopped for their lunch the second day. As soon as she dismounted, she whispered in Griffon's ear to find Zevran and bring him to her, no matter what he needed to do. Within a few minutes, her faithful deer hound returned, pulling Zevran by his sleeve.

"Delia, my dear, would you be so kind as to call off your dog? I don't know why he insists to lead me in this fashion, but I am afraid he may do damage to this tunic and I only recently have aged it to perfection."

Delia could see what most others couldn't when it came to Zevran. He tried to hide his true feelings behind a mask of lecherousness, but she could tell that he was afraid of something.

"Zev, Griffon is only doing what I asked him to do. You promised to tell me why you were late yesterday and yet you've been avoiding me."

He looked around and then held his hand out to her. "Follow me and I will explain everything."

They walked together to the edge of the camp, where they were still in plain sight but wouldn't be overheard.

"Do you remember the man I spoke to in the market when we were returning to the estate?" As she nodded he continued to speak. "He asked me to retrieve a certain object from Bann Franderal, if you recall."

"The Tears of Andraste. Yes, I remember. Is that where you were?" Delia looked at him in amazement.

"Yes, my dear. And I was successful." He pulled a small vial from his pocket. "I promised to give them to you if my venture paid off, and I intend to always keep my promises to you, mi hermana." He took her hand, kissed it, and placed the vial into her palm. "You may do with this as you wish. I know you wanted to give them to the Chantry, however the timing could not be helped. Keep them safe and when we return to Denerim you may give them to the curator yourself."

Delia looked at the vial in her hand. It was a small bottle hand carved from a clear quartz crystal. The craftsmanship was exquisite and reminded her of engravings of potion flasks she had seen in ancient texts. The top was sealed with red wax encompassing a cork closure. It certainly was an ancient object, but whether or not it was a true relic was something that would need to be determined with further research.

"Zevran, this is amazing. Thank you. I will see this safely to the Chantry." Her expression changed from one of wonder and curiosity to one of concern. "Were you hurt? You have no idea how worried I was…"

He took her hand in his and looked her in the eyes as he kissed her hand again. "No, my dearest, I was not hurt. As a matter of fact, my friends and I were able to sneak in and out before a single guardsman was able to sneeze. However, you have no idea how much it means to me that you are so concerned about my wellbeing."

Delia allowed her talent to reach out to him. She felt his deep feelings for her, and how he tried to hide them to shield himself from what he believed would be his inevitable heartache. Delia's eyes filled with tears as she reached out and hugged the man who had become her brother in every sense of the word except for blood.

"Zevran, I don't think you realize how important you are to me. If I ever were to lose you, I don't know what I would do… especially now."

"Now? Whatever do you mean?"

Delia pulled back and looked straight into his eyes. "You are a major part of my family, Zevran Arainai, and I fully expect that you will be a huge part of your niece or nephew's life."

He looked confused. "Niece? Nephew? My dear, are you with child?"

She smiled warmly at him. "Yes, Zev. You should have been told along with Trent and Dairren, but I haven't had an opportunity to speak to you alone. They know, and of course Alistair and Wynne know, but no one else yet. Only my family."

"Family." The word escaped from his lips almost like a prayer. "You truly think of me as family?"

"Yes, Zev. And no matter what you do or what you say, you cannot change that. Please don't ever doubt how important you are to me. To all of us."

As Zevran pulled her into another hug, he fought back tears. He had a family – people who wouldn't give up on him. A feeling of hope flowed through his being, and for the first time since he was a small boy a real smile brightened his face.

Alistair had been looking for his wife and finally saw her with Zevran. The smile on the elf's face was something Alistair had never seen before, and he approached the two with his own curious smile.

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you." He walked up to them and surveyed them both. "Is everything all right? You both look rather… emotional."

Zevran laughed. It was a sound they had never heard from him. Not a forced or stilted laugh, but something that came straight from the happiness in his heart. As he pulled Alistair into a hug he teased him gently. "Alistair, my dear brother, your lovely wife just informed me that I am to be an uncle. To be honest, I did not believe you, a Chantry raised man, had the capability to actually impregnate any woman!" As he released the flustered king, Zevran slapped him on the back. "I cannot tell you how happy I am at this moment, my friend. And I am honored that Delia has given me this place of distinction in your child's life. I do not know what it takes to be an uncle, but I promise, nay, I give my oath, that I shall treasure your child and protect it with my own life and limb."

Alistair grabbed his arm in a warrior's handshake. "Zev, there are few people we would trust more than you. I never thought I would say this, but I'm actually… glad, in a way, that you tried to assassinate us. I have to admit I am very happy you weren't successful, but I think you understand…"

Zevran's honest laugh permeated the air. "Ah, yes, I understand. And you know, Alistair, so am I." He looked happily at the two of them. "So, when will you be telling the others in our party? I am certain they would be as elated as I am."

Alistair looked at Delia thoughtfully. "I hadn't really thought about it, but perhaps once we reach Redcliffe?"

Delia shook her head. "No, I don't want to celebrate under Eamon's roof. I think we should tell them tonight and celebrate after we've defeated the archdemon."

"As you wish, my dear. Right now I suggest we eat something before we have to mount up again. Zachary doesn't seem to like to wait. He's really even nastier about it than Aeden ever was!"

The three made their way back to the group and were handed their light lunch of bread and cheese. Before they knew it they were back on their horses and under way.

That evening at camp Delia and Alistair spoke to each of their colleagues individually. They didn't want word of the pregnancy to spread around the soldiers, but wanted their friends to know. Everyone was happy for them, at least in their own way. They expected to have unusual reactions from Sten and Shale, but the reaction that puzzled them the most was Morrigan's.

Delia and Alistair approached Morrigan's tent arm in arm. The witch watched them approach warily.

"What do you want? Is it not bad enough that I am ogled all day by these horrid men or must you also torment me all night?" Morrigan's eyes reflected the light of her camp fire, her expression one of a wild, untamed beast.

"We aren't here to bother you, Morrigan. We have some news we wanted to share with you." Delia smiled at her warmly. Morrigan had always been a difficult person to know, but Delia had thought they had become friends over the time they spent exchanging herbalism recipes. Something in her demeanor was more guarded than usual, and it troubled Delia.

"Well, spit it out. I must get sleep or I shall lose my temper on the morrow and set soldiers afire."

"We wanted you to know that we are expecting our first child." Alistair tried to give Morrigan a friendly smile, but the look on the witch's face made him very uncomfortable.

"I suppose you expect me to congratulate you? I thought even you understood that if a man and a woman have intercourse pregnancy tends to be a result." Morrigan grumbled. "If that is all, then leave me be."

Delia frowned. "I… I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Morrigan. We simply wanted to share our happiness with our friends. We won't trouble you any longer."

As Delia and Alistair turned to leave, Morrigan sighed softly. "Delia, I am sorry. You are my friend, and I am indeed happy for you if you are happy. It has been a very… trying day, and I do not mean to treat you in such a rude fashion."

Delia walked to her and hugged her gently. "It's alright, Morrigan. I have seen the way the soldiers react to you. I can understand how uncomfortable it makes you."

Alistair nodded, although he wasn't certain if he believed the mage. "I will speak to Zachary and tell him to speak to the men. They will keep their eyes to themselves."

Morrigan nodded at Alistair. "I… thank you, Alistair. Your assistance is most appreciated. I wish you both a good rest tonight." She walked into her tent as Delia and Alistair walked back to their pavilion.

Once they were inside and alone, with the exception of Griffon who was guarding the entrance, Alistair turned to his wife. His face showed his questions before he spoke, so she decided to preempt him.

"Yes, Alistair, Morrigan is hiding something. I don't know what it is, but it is something important."

He took Delia into his arms and looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you think we should send her away? Is she dangerous?"

She shook her head. "I don't think she's currently dangerous, but I'll ask Zev to keep an eye on her. She definitely has something planned, but I don't think she wants to hurt us."

"I'll go with your feelings, at least for now." He yawned and smiled apologetically. "Let's get to sleep."

Delia hugged him tightly. "Yes. I have a feeling that tomorrow will be… eventful."