A/N: Closing shifts at the salon are kicking my ass! Totally screwing up my writing schedule :-(
Elissa bit delicately into a piece of pastry, hand cupped under her chin to catch the falling crumbs. It was morning in Denerim and the Queen of Ferelden was sitting in the all too quiet dining hall, eating her breakfast alone. She had awoken before Alistair and quietly went about her morning routine, silently slipping out of their chamber once dressed. Memories of the night before swirled around in her head; it seemed as if the events were enough to make up an entire week's worth of upheaval. Strange and unsettling to think everything had happened within the span of only hours.
"Good morning," a voice said quietly, but pleasantly from behind her and she stiffened as a pair of hands came to rest on her shoulders.
"Good morning, Alistair," she replied, voice calm and collected, though inside she was anything but. When he bent and placed a soft kiss upon her cheek before sliding into the chair at her side, she closed her eyes and fought the urge to lean against him.
Elissa had thought that come morning she would have rationalized her behavior and feelings away, chalking everything up to one night of high emotions and tension that finally broke free. But when she woke to find herself entwined with her husband, an arm slung over his bare chest, she knew that she had been a special sort of foolish to ever think such a thing. Alistair had been right, she had felt something when he touched her, kissed her, gasped her name like it was a chant unto the Maker himself. Even now, looking at him from the corner of her eye she felt herself grow warm and flustered. It was as if she was thirteen years old and flirting with Eldrik the kitchen boy, unsure of how to act or what to say. It was not a pleasing feeling; for so long she had been confident and proud, so very sure of who she was. To think that Alistair had undone all of that with a few well placed caresses made her both alternately furious and excited.
"Oh, that looks good," Alistair noted, unaware of her thoughts, and made to snatch the morsel of food from her plate. Elissa sputtered as he leaned back in satisfaction, popping the pastry into his mouth and chewing slowly.
"You have the most appalling table manners," she managed, reaching to spoon a mound of fresh picked blackberries upon her plate.
"And who exactly am I trying to impress, Elissa?" he asked pleasantly, leaning in to steal once more. Elissa quickly stabbed her fork into the object of his desire and raised it to her mouth, eyebrow quirked in defiance. Alistair merely grinned before leaning in to bite the berry directly off the tines. Elissa laughed and shoved him away, pushing her plate to rest before him.
"You're sure?" he asked, even as he set into the food.
"Yes," she replied, "I've already quite thoroughly stuffed myself. I better understand your unusual appetite. Your kitchen staff is quite marvelous. If they keep this up, I don't think I'll be able to fit into a single one of my gowns."
"I fail to see the issue with that," Alistair said wickedly and Elissa blushed, eyes flicking away. "Though my fondness for food has less to do with the quality than with the fact that I'm a Grey Warden."
"Is a craving for cheese in the middle of the night a requirement for you recruits?" Elissa asked wryly.
"More like the one pleasant bonus of joining," Alistair retorted, words mumbled around a mouthful of food. "In addition to dying before your time and turning into a monster, you seem to never get full, though you get to keep your girlish figure."
Silence filled the space between them and Alistair realized his mistake all too late. He swallowed hard, eyes wary as he studied her. Elissa was smart enough to know that he had revealed a confidence that was never meant for her ears, and had it been anything else, she would have let it lie, but hearing her husband speak of his death as something imminent had her forming questions without thinking.
"Before your time?" she asked softly, folding her hands demurely in her lap.
"Leave it alone, Elissa," he warned, voice colored with shame.
"Monster?" she prodded, ignoring him.
"I can't," he offered, as if that simple phrase would deter her. Elissa snorted; he should know better by now.
"Can't or won't, Alistair?" she insisted. "You are no longer a member of the Grey Warden ranks. If you were I have a feeling your commander would have plucked you from your royal fate, hauled you off to Amaranthine and you would even now being running drills in the mud."
"I may not be in service," Alistair explained slowly and heatedly, "but I took an oath all the same. Do not ask me to break it, Elissa."
"And you took an oath to me, your wife, before the Maker and half the realm," she countered, "an oath that binds us until death, which, according to your rather cryptic remarks, is something I can apparently expect to being arriving shortly?"
Alistair swore softly and pushed out of his chair, head bent low as he paced. Elissa watched as he muttered softly to himself, the words too low for her make out exactly what he saying. When he offered no explanation she sighed and gracefully rose to her feet, gliding quietly across the stone floor. Laying a gentle hand upon his arm she stilled him into obedience and he looked down at her with frustrated eyes, secrets hovering at the tip of his tongue.
"I am quite tired of the secrets that lie between us," she murmured, voice sympathetic yet no less commanding, "First Harlow, now this. Last night you said things were different now…if that is true then this cannot stand. Either I have begun to be your wife in more than name, or last night was a fever dream we shall never speak of again. Choose, Alistair."
"You think to hold that against me?" he accused, voice bitter yet breaking on the syllables in hope.
Elissa shook her head and smiled sadly, "I hold nothing against you, but we stand on a precipice, and you cannot expect me to teeter forever. You asked me if I felt something, Alistair…of course I did, how could I not? There is…something between us, and it has been there for quite some time now, though I do not know what to call it. But there is a power in naming things, in giving them voice…so please, before I am able to give whatever it is we have the power to break me, I ask that you choose."
Alistair stared down at her, wonder, heartache, betrayal, and fear dancing across his eyes in an odd sort of ballet. Elissa watched it all; face placid and patient as she waited for him to decide the fate of their marriage. She was not lying when she spoke; though she was unaware she had felt this way until now. She had to wonder, if it weren't for his slip of the tongue, would she have ever had reason to voice this ultimatum? Or would they have stumbled along as before, fumbling through their lives trying to figure out where the other stood?
"The crown has no authority over the Wardens, is that understood?" he murmured after a time, eyes relaying the seriousness of what he was about to reveal. Elissa nodded and Alistair let out a sigh, eyes rolling to the heavens. "Andraste's ass, I can't believe I'm about to do this. Here goes…becoming a Grey Warden allows us to sense the darkspawn, to track them and be alerted to their presence…it also saves those who have been tainted. But it isn't a cure all…it only delays the inevitable. Eventually the taint catches up, punishes you for cheating death for so long…and it, well…."
"Alistair?"
"The Wardens…they become…" He couldn't finish, though there was no need. Elissa's eyes filled with horror as she followed the path of his thoughts. She brought a hand to her mouth and shook her head, unwilling to believe. Alistair merely stared at her, mouth grim, mentally ticking away the years that had passed since his joining...subtracting them from the time he had left. It was something he had done every time the Calling had been discussed…some sort of masochistic drive pushing him to remember the dire fate that awaited him.
"When?" Elissa managed at last, her voice shaking.
"Thirty years, give or take, since you take the joining…so for me…" he closed his eyes, unwilling to say the number, as if finally giving it sound would make it real after all this time, "Twenty six years, if I'm lucky, and Maker knows luck was never my strong suit."
Elissa's mind scrambled to make sense of the dire information, the horror of it too great for her to fully comprehend. Alistair himself said nothing, having lived with the knowledge for over three years. It had become his constant companion, the devil he knew, and he gave his wife the time she needed to come to terms with this dark promise of things to come…and because he knew he was not done divulging secrets.
"Alistair," she supplied at last, nothing more, just his name breaking on her tongue. He shrugged and tried to smile, though it did little to brighten the situation. She shook her head and stepped close to him, eyes seeking his as if there were answers to be found in their depths. Ever so gently she cradled his face in her hands and kissed his brow, going up on tip toe to reach. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Alistair swallowed hard and pried her fingers from his flesh, gripping the soft skin in his calloused hands.
"Elissa, there's more," he said softly. "The Calling…I made a promise-"
The clearing of a throat had the pair jumping, heads swiveling to gaze upon the intruder. Eamon stood in the doorway, posture hunched and withdrawn, unsure of his welcome.
"What is he doing here?" Alistair asked with a deadly quiet.
"I invited him," Elissa said evenly. Her husband laughed, sure she was joking, but the amusement died in short order and he furrowed his brow at her.
"After everything he's done?"
"Of all his sins, of which there are many, indifference towards you has never made the list," Elissa said softly, "You cannot see it now, but trust me when I say were you to chuck him from the palace, you would come to hate yourself…it may take years, but the despair would come just the same."
"And you? You've never had warm fuzzy feelings towards the man, why should you even concern yourself?" Alistair asked, eyes narrowed, sure that she was scheming. "What do you have planned?"
"Nothing," she said, eyes flicking down to stare at her feet, "and I concern myself because…I care about you."
Elissa blushed furiously once the words escaped her mouth, feeling once more like a girl treading the waters of adulthood. Alistair gently cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face upwards to meet his. Expecting a tender look and gentle words, she was taken aback to find him grinning wildly.
"There now, was that so hard?" he asked patronizingly.
"Very nearly killed me," she snapped and Alistair laughed pulling her into a crushing hug.
"There's my surly wife, so glad to have you back. All this touchy feely nonsense had me worried."
"A bout of temporary insanity to be sure," she seethed, words muffled against his doublet. Alistair loosened his grip and brought his hands to cradle her face. Before she could even so much as glare he closed the distance and pressed a lingering kiss against her lips.
"I care for you too, Elissa," he murmured once they parted, eyes still mirthful, "Someone has to."
"That's it, out" she said pointing towards the doors. "Clearly I've married just the most boorish sort of man."
Alistair laughed and swooped in to peck her cheek before taking his leave. Elissa shook her head, a small smile painted on her lips. Once her husband's laughed faded from the room, she turned once more to gaze upon Eamon, who still stood in the doorway, eyes frosty and unsure.
"Will you sit, my lord?" she asked politely, gesturing to a vacant chair.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he replied stiffly before carefully sitting. Elissa followed suit and the two stared at one another over the plates of food, time ticking by.
"Forgive me, Elissa, but I have been wracking my brain trying to figure out your reasoning for this farce," the man said after a time, voice tight and controlled.
"And what farce is that, Eamon?" she asked calmly.
"Come now," he sneered, "let us skip the hunt and simply tree the prey. You seek to punish me for whatever imagined slight you perceive I have done you."
"I assure you, the slight is far from imagined," she replied icily, eyes narrowed, "but very well…I shall skip the pretense and get to the point. Stop the scheming, Eamon. All of it. Keep your nose out of my marriage, and maybe, just maybe, I can soothe the King's temper and keep you in the crown's employ."
Eamon stared at her dumbfounded. Elissa reached for another piece of pastry and daintily nibbled the corner, acting for all the world as if the conversation she was engaged in was of very little consequence.
"Your Majesty-" Eamon started, clearly reading himself to interject his own infuriating brand of pompous reasoning, but Elissa cut him off with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you truly going to offer sputtering and objections when I so graciously gave you an out, my lord?"
"Do not act the innocent maid in all this, Elissa," Eamon protested, "Had you been in my position you may very well have come to the same conclusion."
"Had I been as meddlesome as you yes, I may very well have. Ambrose and I are very close, he is my dearest friend, but it does not diminish the fact that he is a veritable tramp, Eamon," she snapped, "and not exactly sneaky about it. And had you bothered to ask even one member of the guard, or Maker forbid the castle staff, you would have very quickly been given a list of his most recent conquests…each and every one of them male. Very well, my lord, I shall not act the innocent maid if you in turn do not act the pious martyr."
"Very well," Eamon said primly, "I admit to an error in judgment. Is that all, Your Majesty?"
"No, it is not. The fact remains that while I would like nothing more than to see you slink out of the castle, tail between your legs like the dog you are, I know it would break something inside Alistair to lose you. So I feel the need to make a few points perfectly clear to you. Firstly, I am not foolish enough not to see what truly spurred your duplicitous action. You were expecting a malleable, tractable, simpering young girl so very, very pleased to be crowned queen that she would acquiesce to your wisdom. How very galling it must have been to have received me instead. I will not be a pretty adornment that drapes off Alistair's arm at parties and functions. I will be an asset to King and country, as I was raised to be, and my voice will be heard in court. Make no mistake, Eamon, I am not his consort, I am his Queen. Which is exactly what you wanted, otherwise Harlow would still be here and I would be in Highever."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Eamon said, rising quickly, face white with anger.
"I do not believe I was finished," Elissa said, voice snapping with the command. "You aren't winning yourself any points, Eamon. Sit Down." Eamon grit his teeth and obeyed, hands splayed out over the table top. "Now, loath as I am to admit it, you have done many a good thing for Ferelden since you installed yourself in court. I am aware of how very badly Alistair was bumbling things on the heels of Harlow's absence. The liquor, the women…thank the Maker there are no bastards running around to complicate matters. Obviously my husband was not ruling effectively, and yet the country never stopped turning towards recovery, and I am fairly certain you are responsible for that. If you can see your way to putting your favorite hobby of sticking your nose where it does not belong behind you, I would gladly see you keep your position as chancellor."
"Your Majesty-" Eamon breathed, all ire gone from his posture, replaced with shock and awe.
"One more chance, Eamon, that is all I offer. Should you seek to harm myself, my marriage, or my friends with your vicious schemes ever again I will personally see you out on our ass in the stews of Denerim. To the Void with how badly it will hurt Alistair…I'm fairly sure I could kiss him better. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, Your Majesty," the man replied, relief naked in his voice. Elissa nodded and motioned for him to rise. He did so shakily and bowed deeply before taking his leave. Elissa watched him go before reclining back in her chair, sighing heavily.
"Well that's one crisis averted," she muttered, "now if I could just figure out what to do about the psychopathic elf rampaging through my city, I would be able to finally get to the fun part of being queen."