A/N: wow this was a long one…next up after this: the tourney! Where Elissa is sneaky, Alistair oblivious, and Eamon seeks to mettle.
You know what's awesome? Apollo Wings, that's what…or rather who as they are a person. Anyway, the lovely Apollo very graciously gave me a little present based on a prompt I fed her, and it was bananas (literally) how awesome it was. Check out Apollo's work, truly magnificent, and if so inclined give a prompt of your own…you won't be disappointed, I swear!
It had been a busy two weeks in the city of Denerim. The populace was abuzz with talk of King Alistair's upcoming tourney, and knights and nobleman from the four corners of Thedas flooded the city walls, all eager to test their mettle against one another and earn some fame and glory in the bargain. Elissa, for her part, had kept herself quite busy throughout it all, playing the part of the doting Queen and wife with poise and elegance. When not dancing attendance upon her guests, she was overseeing Shianni's recruitment of elven guardsmen. Despite their best efforts the two women had struck up a friendship of sorts, each finding common ground with their shared sense of spirit and spine. It was a volatile, if not exciting, relationship, and the walls fair shook from their infamous screaming matches, but Elissa found herself admiring the elven Bann, and their daily meetings were fast becoming the highlight of her day. Whereas her as Alistair's arguments were meant to goad and prick each other's tempers until they exploded in a passionate torrent of words, the verbal sparring matches with Shianni were, well, downright fun.
It is not to say the time passed without incident. Mortain and his fanatics began to grow a foothold within the Alienage and already had organized five separate demonstrations in the market square. After the first, in which an elven man, barely out of boyhood, had been beaten so severely by city guards that he would never walk again, Alistair had issued severe decrees stating that should another non-violent citizen meet a similar end, the offender would receive the same injuries blow for blow.
Elissa had watched him erupt on his men, his eyes fiery and his voice booming with unleashed rage. He was magnificent in his fury and she had been drawn aback to see him so commanding and regal. For the first time in her eyes he looked every inch the stately and powerful king, and try as she might she could not shake the image. It, of course, did not stop her from pointing out a mistake in his wording once the pair had left the barracks, and he had rounded on her with the same anger that he had just unleashed on his men. She gave as good as she got and they were once again battling each other with insults and outrage. Ever since their awkward archery competition such moments had been coming with greater frequency, but the verbal quagmires ended with far greater speed than they once had. Elissa was far quicker to apologize than she once had been and Alistair had the most infuriating habit of inserting his own brand of wit into their spats, and she would find herself laughing against her better judgment. Damn hard to hold the upper hand when you're snorting through your nose. Even still, each outburst was terrible in its weight, and for hours afterwards the passion with which they had spoke would simmer in Elissa's veins, morphing into an all together different and unwelcome emotion.
In such fashion did two weeks pass and the city was restless; half its citizen's a hair's breath away from bloody revolt, and the other half eagerly awaiting some royally sanctioned blood sport of their own. Despite the turmoil, Elissa managed to find the time to squeeze a bit of shopping in to ward of the unpleasant side of her duties.
"It smells," Shianni said with a wrinkle of her nose as she pushed the pot of cosmetic away from her face.
"That's how you know it's of quality," Elissa replied cheerfully as she sought to dab a bit of the cream upon the elf's cheeks. "Nightingale droppings do wonders for one's complexion and are thought to bring an inner light to the skin."
"You're smearing bird shit on me?" Shianni shrieked as she slapped the pot away, the porcelain shattering the second it hit the floor. Elissa let out a groan of dismay as she mentally added the cost to her already growing list of indulgences.
"Yes, very expensive bird shit that you just purchased by way of smashing. That cost fifty sovereigns, Shianni!"
"You'll pay for nightingale droppings but when I put pigeon shit in your cosmetics you turned into relentless shrew and screamed at me until my ears blistered. Women: why do I even bother trying to understand?" Fergus muttered from his post in the corner. Elissa rounded on her brother with a sweet and endearing smile.
"Shut up Fergus darling," she said dismissively, "you're job is to hold packages and look dour."
"So good to once again be back in your charming presence, sister dear," he replied with a roll of his eyes. He had taken up residence in the castle once more, his estate in the city having been overrun by knights from Highever seeking to participate in the upcoming tourney. Elissa had been both eager and hesitant to have her brother so near. She was unsure as to how he would react to her and Alistair's ever confusing and volatile relationship. It was a near certainty he had heard them going at it one night, voices raised over some incredibly stupid and minor thing, but to his credit he said not a word to her of the altercation, though she could see the concern in his eyes.
"As much as I love watching you two smear feces on each other can we please find another shop to patronize?" Ambrose interjected his tone bored and listless.
"We aren't leaving until Shianni agrees to appear every inch the noblewoman at the Tourney," Elissa said, her eyes sparkling, "I will not be satisfied until every knight is begging to wear her favors."
"There is one surefire way to see that through," Ambrose said suggestively and Shianni rounded on him with a wicked grin.
"I don't think you're allowed to offer advice on whoring around anymore, Ambrose," she said mockingly, "from what I hear, Torin has kept you quite tame these past weeks."
"Torin?" Elissa gasped, happy to at last have a clue as to her friend's mystery lover. "It has a name!"
"It is an elf," Shianni offered conspiratorially, "one within the newly formed elven guard."
"Well that is convenient isn't it?" Elissa said dryly and Ambrose stuck his tongue out at her.
"I hate you all, and I'm leaving. Should you wish to apologize for your appalling behavior you will find me in the weapon's emporium," her friend stated haughtily before grabbing Fergus by the elbow and dragging him with. "Lord Cousland, be a dear and divulge as many painful and humiliating stories from her childhood as you are able so that I may lob them at her like knives when next we speak."
Elissa laughed gaily as the men exited the shop, turning her attention back to Shianni, who was looking after the pair with scare disguised longing.
"The sooner you give in, the sooner we can leave," Elissa said simply, pulling yet another jar, this one a creamy rouge of peach, down from the shelves.
"Why are you so damn concerned with tarting me up?" Shianni demanded as she reluctantly held still under the queen's ministrations.
"Because appearances are important. You are a noblewoman now, and the more you look the part, the more a voice you will have."
"Paint me up all you want, I'll never look the part," the elven woman said fiercely, spitting her words out with great disdain, "unless you plan to file down my ears, I'll always be less than, my voice quieter than the privileged sea around me. Stop treating me like your personal elven doll who you can turn Shem with a little imagination."
"And stop acting like you don't look at the fine dresses and pretty hair every time you are in court with such longing it borders on vulgar," Elissa snapped in reply, throwing the compact to the ground. Distantly she heard the shopkeeper groan, but chose to ignore the man. "I'm not trying to turn you human, Shianni, but maybe just maybe, you could stop acting as if every aspect of 'shemlan' life is shit under your boot heel!"
"Having spent my whole life walking through shit, I can very easily recognize it in all its forms!"
"Then perhaps you should look to your backyard," Elissa seethed, "for I grow weary of the utter bullshit you spout on a daily basis!"
"Maker above you are impossible to talk to!" Shianni cried throwing her hands in the air.
"So my husband has told me with great frequency," Elissa muttered before angrily gliding over to the low counter at the other end of the room where her purchases waited to be tallied. Silence filled the shop, the only sound the scratching of quill on parchment as the proprietor added up all the luxuries to be bought.
"Maybe," Shianni said reluctantly, "I do, somewhat, fancy the fashion at court." When Elissa quirked an eyebrow, lips still firmly shut and offering no opinion, she let out a huffed breath and folded her arms tightly across her chest defensively. "None of that ridiculous Orlesian frippery you wear, but other things…simple and sumptuous…perhaps."
"That frippery is the height of fashion," Elissa replied as she paid the beleaguered shopkeeper, "And as such it would not do for you to wear it, regardless of your preference. I can't have a lowly Bann dressing in such a state; I have appearances to keep up."
"Wench," Shianni muttered.
"Trollop," Elissa countered, a small grin playing at her lips. When the elf returned the expression Elissa gathered up her packages and grandly deposited them in her friend's arms.
"Why do I have to carry them?" Shianni griped as she struggled to find a firm grip.
"Because I am the queen, and you are lucky enough to be my lady in waiting this afternoon."
"Don't quite recall agreeing to that," Shianni muttered as the pair exited the shop into the late afternoon bustle of the market.
"Queen's pleasure and command my dear," Elissa said brightly as she scanned the nearby stalls, a bolt of forest green silk catching her eye. "Oh! This would be perfect!"
"Perfect for what?"
"For you! With your hair and eyes, you will be the very picture of autumn woods made flesh. The knights will not be able to stop themselves from begging your favor!" Elissa cried with delight, already pulling coins from her purse to pay for the fabric.
"Why are you so damn concerned with matching me up, Elissa?" Shianni asked angrily, boxes wobbling as she sifted her stance. "We elves have our own traditions when it comes to that."
"You'll have to name an heir eventually, and I'm not about to see you lose your chance while you spin out your days in spinsterhood," Elissa said smartly as she plopped the bolt down onto the already over burdened elf.
"I'm not a spinster, and how dare-"
Shianni was abruptly cut off by a scream sounding from across the square. Seconds later a group of curious citizens went running by, their destination near the arms district. Shianni and Elissa shared a heartbeat of a look before reaching the same conclusion.
"The men," they breathed in unison before sprinting off towards the chaos, packages lost and forgotten in the dusty street. They passed a dwarven vendor hawking dwarven crafts (or "dwarven crap" as Ambrose had called it, insisting those were the words the enthusiastic man was shouting) and Elissa paused to snatch a bow and quiver from his display. Not even deigning to reply to the dwarf's outraged call, she continued on her path, skidding to a halt outside the weapon's emporium.
It was chaos, a fierce skirmish between elves and humans. The humans were woefully unprepared, overwhelmed by the sheer number of their opponents. The elves fought viciously, if not clumsily, and already three lay slain, the blood soaking the dusty ground beneath their corpses. In the midst of the turmoil were Ambrose and Fergus, back pressed together as they were consistently pressed to the defensive. Two city guards who had been stationed nearby had joined the fray, but the odds were not in their favor. Elissa watched in horror as her brother took a knife to the shoulder, his strangled cry ringing desperately in her ears. A distant part of her knew that as Queen she had a duty to seek shelter, remove herself from the volatile situation and wait for help. But the part of her that was a sister, a friend, a Cousland, overrode her common sense and she found herself raising her bow without a second thought, arrow loosed only seconds later to bury itself in the nearest enemy.
Commands were barked between the elves as they regrouped to meet the new enemy in their midst. Elissa paused to take in their measure, sadly noting that not a one could have reached twenty years. She was loathe to strike down children, but when a throwing dagger whizzed past her head, she realized she may not have much choice in the matter. Her heart breaking, she readied another arrow and let it fly.
"Elissa! What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!" Ambrose cried out, his voice harsh as he continued to hack his way through opponents.
"Shut up and concentrate!" she snapped back as she continued her assault. Behind her Shianni was screaming at the elves, demanding they drop their weapons and stop acting like "irresponsible twats with fuck all for brains who will ruin everything." Needless to say, her shrieks went unanswered.
"Shianni! Stop screaming and do something useful!" Elissa commanded as she loosed another arrow, "I believe this would be the perfect time to test the elven guard, yes?" Shianni's eyes widened in understanding and she raced away, beating a dusty path towards the Alienage.
Elissa exhausted her quiver quickly and was put on the defensive, using the bow to block incoming swings, the wood splintering with every blow. Eventually it snapped in two and the elven male she had been fighting smiled at her maliciously. She sought to evade his reach, diving to the floor behind him, but he was too fast and she found herself staring down the blade of a lethal sword, the tip hovering over her chest.
"In the name of the King, throw your weapons to the ground!" a booming voice called out and Elissa felt herself sag in relief as she saw a contingent of guardsmen round the corner, led by none other than her husband, steel drawn. The elf before her tensed in anger, his hand shaking as he debated whether he should carry out his intention.
"Think, child," she murmured, eyes locked with his, "should you strike down Ferelden's queen things will only get worse for you and yours. My husband takes treason very seriously."
The elf's eyes widened and Elissa realized the man had no idea who he had been fighting. He hastily flung the sword to the ground, arms immediately raised in surrender. Elissa's eyes flickered in relief and she collapsed on the dusty street, adrenaline leaving her in a rush.
"Maker's breath, are you ok?" a voice above her asked, and she cracked an eye to see Alistair peering down at her.
"I am unharmed," she sighed, holding a hand out, silently asking for help rising. Alistair complied, strong hands wrapping about her forearm and hauling upright. The force behind the movement had her being brought flush to his chest and she squeaked in surprise, hands resting upon his armored chest to steady herself.
"What were you thinking?" he demanded, eyes scanning her over as he searched for injury, "Wading into battle with nothing more than a short bow and a silk dress. You could have been killed!"
"So sorry I didn't take the time to properly attire myself, Alistair," she said with a roll of her eyes, "next time an elven uprising takes place and threatens the lives of my friends and family I shall endeavor to dress myself to your standards."
"I'd prefer you to stay out of it entirely!" he snapped back, "You had no place in this!"
"Why, because I am a woman and should be simpering in terror, leaving you to the manly and daring rescue?"
"Because you aren't properly trained!" he roared, "And if you had gotten hurt there wouldn't have been much left for me to rescue!" Elissa opened her mouth to offer her scathing opinion but was abruptly cut off as Alistair swept her into his arms, crushing her to his chest in a fierce embrace. "Don't do that again, Elissa. I'm supposed to be the foolishly reckless one."
"Perhaps you're rubbing off on me," she whispered, still too shocked by the sudden intimacy to do anything more. A moan of pain tore her from the moment and she pushed away, seeking out the victim. Her stomach rolled when her eyes landed upon her brother, blood trickling from his shoulder, his fingers fumbling to staunch the flow. "Fergus!"
"I'm alright, little sparrow," he rasped as she rushed to his side, "nothing of consequence was struck."
"Send for a healer!" she snapped at the nearest guard before returning her gaze to her brother, "Really Fergus, you must stop this 'almost dying' business. I know living in my shadow is difficult and you are desperate for attention, but really, there are far more constructive ways to go about it."
"Your concern is overwhelming, I think I may very well faint," he chuckled as Elissa helped ease him to the floor. "I suppose this means I won't be competing in your husband's tourney."
"Just as well, you're much to old," Elissa teased as she inspected the wound, "and embarrassment to the family, really."
"You're brother was quite amazing, Your Majesty," Ambrose interjected as he limped over to the pair, a litany of cuts marring his skin, "never even hesitated before he leapt into the fray."
"Thank you for guarding him as best you could," Elissa said with a watery voice, tears threatening to flow. She reached a hand out to her friend, and he grasped it tightly in reply, bringing it to his lips to lay a caring kiss upon her knuckles.
"Tell me how it began, Ambrose," Alistair interjected gruffly, his tone hard as he glanced at the display.
"Of course, Your Majesty," her friend said, instantly releasing her from his grip. "Lord Cousland and I were making our way to the arms emporium when we came upon an altercation between this elf and a city guard." All eyes turned to the accused, a boy of no more than sixteen years glaring at them sullenly. "When the boy drew steel, his friends followed suit and we sought to intervene."
"The bastard raped my sister!" the boy cried out, his voice filled with hate, "he deserves to hurt as much as she did!"
"Even if that's true," Alistair said gruffly, "it is not up to you to meet out punishment. You attacked not only the city guard, but put the life of my Queen in danger."
"Didn't ask the bitch to join in," the elf spat out, "she should have kept to the castle and minded her own business!" Beside her Ambrose growled angrily and began to stalk towards the boy, the threat of violence evident in his every motion. Elissa reached out a restrained his gently, shaking her head in a silent plea.
"That is the last time you get to call my wife a bitch," Alistair snarled before turning to gaze upon her once more. "That's my job," he mouthed silently and Elissa found herself slapping her hands over her mouth in an effort to contain the amused gasp that threatened to spill out of her. Such a thought should have enraged her, but the utter absurdity of it had her near dissolving into hysterics.
"Throw them in the dungeons," Alistair said, his voice slightly more relaxed as he returned his gaze to the culprits before him. "I hope you enjoyed your time a revolutionaries, pity it ended with you being locked behind bars."
"Mortain will avenge us!" the leader cried out as the group was led away, "You think you've stopped us? All you've done is make us stronger! Mortain will cut you all down like the worthless shems you are!"
"Andraste's ass I'm getting tired of that blighted elf," Alistair muttered as he watched the prisoners fade into the distance.
"Speak of a demon and he shall appear," Elissa muttered as she watched Shianni round the corner with the elven guard, Mortain held in restraint between them.
"Remind me again just how you're handling this situation," Alistair inquired sarcastically, "were bloody revolts in the market square part of your plan?"
"Shut it, Your Majesty," Elissa said through clenched teeth, "as much as I would love to lock that man up and throw away the key he himself has done nothing to warrant his detainment…yet. He's very good at playing least in sight and keeping his hands clean of the dirtier deeds."
Alistair grunted by said nothing in reply as the group f elves drew closer. Mortain had a serene smile painted on his face, as if he were not bound and being paraded before half the realm as a prisoner by his own people. Elissa narrowed her eyes, her anger starting to rise within her.
"What a pleasant surprise, Your Majesty," Mortain chirped as he drew near, eyes flashing in victory as he surveyed the chaos around him, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Elissa's trademark control had frayed under the stress of the last two weeks and she did not feel up to the verbal sparring match that the elf was seeking. Her temper snapped and she lashed out, back handing the man across the jaw. A satisfying crack echoed through the air, and Elissa cradled her stinging hand close to her chest.
"If you ever seek to use children in your twisted games of treason I will personally plant your head on a pike. To the void with how much it helps your cause. I'll make you a martyr if I have to Mortain, do not mistake me. You keep the children out of your war, do you hear me?" Elissa hissed dangerously. Mortain regarded her with amusement but she could see the rage simmering in his off-putting eyes.
"I am delighted to hear you name it for what it is, my dear lady," he said numbly, "but it is an old battle I undertake, one that has been raging for years. Perhaps you only recognize it as war because your side is finally losing."
"No more children, Mortain, mark my words," Elissa replied, refusing to rise to the bait.
"I do not choose who takes up my banner," he stated coldly, "but if elven children rise up against our oppressors I will cheer them on with my dying breath, our people deserve freedom."
"Which is more than I can say for you," Elissa muttered before turning to Shianni, "Place a guard on him. I want to know his every move. He doesn't so much as use the privy without my knowing it, do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Shianni said through clenched teeth before turning to lead the elves back to the Alienage. Elissa watched them go with dull eyes, certain that events were about the get far worse.
"Perhaps I am rubbing off on you," Alistair murmured, placing a comforting hand about her shoulders. "What happened to diplomacy and political double speak?"
"To the void with diplomacy," Elissa muttered as she unconsciously leaned into his embrace, "he deserved it."