The Keening Blade
Chapter 29: Children of Ferelden
or, Dragon Age: The Next Generation
Anora was very pleased to be given such explicit consent to her plans. Alistair looked relieved that Maude was not creating a scene. Why should the King and Queen not be pleased? It seemed that Loghain and Maude would quietly go along with Anora's plan for a royal takeover first of the Denerim arling, and then of the Gwaren teyrnir. The scheme would be disguised as giving a reward to Maude's firstborn child that Maude herself deserved but as a Grey Warden could not have: a child, needless to say, that Anora believed could never be born.
The assurance with which Anora expected them to fall in with the scheme rather took Loghain's breath away, but Maude was at her most charming, and now was changing the subject to something of endless interest to Anora and Alistair: their own child, due in less than three months. This was a child of vast importance: one who would secure the dynasty and be a bridge to Ferelden's past, present, and future.
"We have made our choices for the child's name!" Anora told them, almost giddy—for Anora. "For a boy, Cormac, and if a girl, Rhoswyn."
Loghain frowned. Anora had the right to name her children whatever she liked, but he had thought—he had hoped—that she would name her son Gareth, after her grandfather. He frowned more deeply, with the effort of saying nothing. Cormac was better than Duncan, at least.
"'Rhoswyn!'" Maude exclaimed. "What a lovely name. That's 'White Rose' in the old tongue, is it not? I thought so. "
Alistair beamed, even handsomer with the joy of it. "It's after Anora's favorite flower, and our good friend, Wynne, who made it all possible."
"And Cormac," Anora said a little hurriedly, "after the ancient hero who saved Ferelden from the invasion of the Wild Men of the South, led by Flemeth!"
Maude smiled. Loghain caught her eye. They both knew that the part about Flemeth was a myth, but why spoil Anora's pleasure?
"It's a very manly name," Maude agreed kindly. Loghain grunted. They could interpret the grunt as they liked.
"Teagan's going to be the godfather, if it's a boy," Alistair told them. "And if it's a girl—" he broke off, blushing.
Anora said, "We would like you, Maude, to be our daughter's godmother. It seems appropriate. The naming will be held at the Cathedral, and will be an important event."
Loghain forbore to sigh. Anora's tone capitalized the words. An Important Event. A Grand Affair. By Chantry decree, a child must have a sponsor of the same gender at its naming, even if it was an orphan with only a chantry sister or brother to hold it in front the holy fire. Indeed, it was a custom far older than the Chantry itself. No doubt Anora thought she was being generous to Maude. She was, so to speak, tossing the childless woman a bone. Loghain wondered idly why Maude did not slap Anora's face.
Maude seemed not at all vexed. Instead, she seemed quite delighted.
"I would be honored! Oh, I do hope it's a girl! I think you'd adore a girl, the both of you! Rhoswyn! Such a lovely name for a little princess. Of course, I'd be delighted to be godmother, and it is appropriate, since aside from Alistair's half-sister, I'm his closest living relative!"
Anora nodded sagely. Loghain was brought up short, and then realized…that she really was.
"What?" Alistair asked, confused. "We're related? Since when? Or really, since when are we related other than you being my stepmother-in-law?" He chuckled, shaking his head over it. "Stepmother-in-law…"
"Of course we're related. Everybody knows that," Maude said, staring at him. "It's something everybody knows. We're cousins. Why do suppose my father was considered for King?"
"We're cousins?" Alistair nearly shouted. "Why didn't you say so?
"Because I thought you knew!" Maude yelled back. "Everybody knows it!"
"I don't know it!" Alistair waved his arms. "How would I know that? How are we related?"
"Alistair…" murmured Anora, patting his shoulder to calm him.
"You really don't know?" Maude asked. She made a curious face. "Well, here goes: You've heard of King Darlan, haven't you—who was killed fighting the Orlesians? All right. He had two children. The son was Brandel, later King Brandel, called the Defeated. There was a daughter, Deirdre, and she married Aonghas Cousland. So her children—among them my grandfather- and Queen Moira were first cousins. So then my father and King Maric were second cousins. Thus you and I are third cousins, and I will be third cousin once removed to adorable Princess Rhoswyn!" She grinned charmingly, "…as well as her grandmother."
Alistair was still speechless, but the light had broken, and he was beginning to grin himself, very broadly. "We're cousins! That's…terrific!
"Yes, it is," she agreed cheerfully. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew. It's the sort of thing everybody knows. I knew it from the time I could talk. Yes, we're cousins. Fergus is your cousin, too, of course. You and I need to sit down with the family trees of Ferelden, and I'll show you how you're related to everybody. Yes, I will be little White Rose's godmother, grandmother, and cousin."
He grinned at her. "Trust you to know what 'Rhoswyn' meant without having it explained to you!"
"I'm interested in names," Maude admitted. "It's about all that's left of Old Ferelden. Just like 'Cormac means 'Son of the Raven', and Anora means 'Honor,' and Loghain means 'Grey Stronghold,' and 'Alistair' means 'Defender of Men." Nice name for a king, that."
"And what does 'Maude' mean?" Alistair asked, grinning.
"Guess!"
"No, tell me! I hate guessing. And I'm King."
"Oh, very well, Your Majesty. By the way, 'Your Majesty' means 'horrible demanding despot."
"Come on."
She smirked triumphantly. "'Maude' means—of course—'Mighty Battlemaiden!'"
"Does not."
"Does too."
"Does not!"
"Does too!"
"Alistair." Anora intervened gently, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. "It does."
"Oh."
Maude grinned at him. "My mother was brilliant!"
A few more civilities with the King and Queen, and they were on their way to bathe and change for dinner. Maude's face was a pleasant mask. Loghain would have thought her in quite a good mood, had he not known her well enough to know that she never looked like that when she was in a genuinely good mood. He glanced over at Alistair, who should know that as well, but Alistair and Anora were gazing into each other's eyes, holding hands. Loghain sneered briefly, and followed his young wife through the labyrinthine passages of the Palace.
"Maude…" he began.
"Not now," she murmured, smiling charmingly at everyone they passed. "Later."
She was walking very fast. Of course she was upset, however well she had dissembled in the presence of the King and Queen.
Anora had just revealed a scheme that was a secret gibe at them both. It was a clever scheme, and Loghain did not begrudge Anora Gwaren and Denerim, but he would prefer that she not make use in such a way of people who cared for her. Still, that was Anora. She really was a brilliant politician. He was more troubled that she had changed her mind about her child's name. Who was Cormac to them, that Anora would name a prince of Ferelden after him? "Son of the Raven?" That sounded suitable for a son of Morrigan, not Anora!
They reached the Compound and smelled the hot copper kettles that meant bath water.
"You go ahead," Maude said brightly. "There are things I must do." She sauntered away, and went into the Wardens' study, probably to have a look at the correspondence. Loghain hesitated; then shook his head. She would talk about it when she was ready. Cashel was waiting…
"Your bath, my lord."
He soaked in the tub, wishing Maude had come to help, but the quiet gave him a chance to think about the situation. It was far more complicated than it appeared on the surface, he thought, studying the soap bubbles on the surface of his bath. Everything was always more complicated than it appeared…
Maude was messing about in her old room now: he heard her slamming open her wardrobes and chests.
"Maude!" he called. "Are you going to wear your new gown tonight?"
"No!" she declared. "And don't go telling people I have a new gown. I want to save it for the first day of the Landsmeet!"
Loghain looked expressively at Cashel. The manservant assured him, straight-faced. "Not even torture could wring the news from me, my lord."
"A good thing for both of us. The brown, then, Cashel."
"Very well, my lord."
Shaved and clean and in fresh clothes, it was possible to believe the last month had never happened. Cashel took himself off, and Maude scrubbed herself with startling dispatch, and then threw on her old green gown.
Loghain was concerned at her preoccupied expression. Winding her hair up in a messy knot, she looked at him with a gravity unusual for her. "Now we need to talk." She approached him, and looked him in the eye. She had not looked at him like this since that fateful Landsmeet nearly a year ago: she was focused, fierce, and unfriendly.
"It comes to this: are you with me, or not?"
Yes, she was up to something. "I'm not sure I understand you."
"You will, very soon. I know that Anora is first with you, but is she so much the first that I count for nothing?"
This was bad. "Maude, obviously you're important to me. Anora is the Queen, and I am her faithful subject."
"Are you so much her faithful subject that you will let her have her way in everything? Even in issues concerning our personal married life?"
"This is about her plan, isn't it?"
She glared at him. "Obviously," she snarled. "Anora has challenged me. She has thrown down the gauntlet, and she expected me to bow down and pretend to like it. Do you think I will allow her to taunt me in such a way? Do you think I will permit her to use me to trick Fergus?"
He could not pretend that it was not so. Anora did things like this when it suited her. She had used him, for that matter, and at the last Landsmeet had publicly thrown him aside when it seemed that he had no further value to her. A father could forgive a daughter anything, but whether he should forget it was certainly a reasonable question.
"Anora gets carried away by her vision sometimes," was all he could manage in his daughter's defense. "She is not deliberately insulting you. She is…"
"—using the tools closest to hand, and is interested only in her own power and self-interest. I understand. You will understand that I find it so profoundly offensive that I have to do something about it, if only for my own self-respect!"
"What can you do?" he asked outright.
She smiled, sweet and terrible. "Plenty." She caught at his hand, and pulled him along with her. "Come with me," she murmured, and led the way into the study.
Anders and Morrigan were waiting, talking in low voices.
Loghain paused on the threshold, and then came into the room and shut the door behind him.
"Maude told us everything," Anders informed him, twinkling in amusement.
"Anders," Morrigan said impatiently, "Maude did not tell us everything! However, I can surmise the rest."
"I," Maude said, eyes blazing with fierce resolve, "will move heaven and earth to bear a child, thus shattering Anora's infuriating plans like a frozen hurlock. Anders and Morrigan say there are things they can do to help. Are you in or out, Loghain?"
Anders choked on his laugh, and began coughing. Morrigan rolled her eyes and began thumping him on the back: a little harder than necessary.
"It was my understanding," Loghain pointed out, "that Grey Wardens were infertile: that it was difficult for a Grey Warden to sire a child, and impossible for two Grey Wardens to conceive a child together."
"See, that's the thing," Anders smirked. "'Infertile' is one of those wiggly words. 'Infertile,' means 'not really, really fertile,' which is something entirely different than 'sterile as an ox.'"
Loghain scowled, not pleased at being compared to an ox, even favorably.
"See…" Anders continued. "'Infertile' means 'can get one up the spout with the right conditions and a bit of luck.' The King's 'infertile,' for that matter, but Wynne and I hashed that out months ago, and she put him on a potions regimen and the rest of it; and the Queen had a bun in the oven quick smart."
"It's not necessary," Loghain growled, "to speak of my daughter in that flippant way."
Morrigan's sensuous lips thinned. Maude stared at him with burning intensity.
"Sorry," apologized Anders, not sounding sorry at all. "I was just pointing out that whatever scheme the Queen's come up with, she's operating on faulty intelligence. There now, wasn't that nice and professional-sounding? She doesn't have all the facts. Too bad, that. Because the facts are Grey Warden secrets."
"And neither Alistair nor the Queen," Morrigan added coldly, "know anything about Avernus, other than his bare name. They know nothing of his advanced potion. Nor, if I have my way, shall they. The King has abjured the Grey Wardens, and has tattled our secrets in the Queen's ear as an offering to conjugal intimacy…"
"King Cailan did too," Maude muttered. "…what he knew of them. Alistair told her, Loghain. He told her! Alistair, however, was a very junior Warden, and a very incurious lad. It will serve him right if we don't tell him everything. We can keep our mouths shut, proceed to conceive a baby, and when he looks surprised, we'll looked surprised, too: innocently surprised that he didn't know the difference between 'infertile' and 'sterile.'"
Loghain thought it over, a tug of war in his heart and head: forgotten hopes and wishes rising to the surface like bubbles.
"If we produce a child," he spoke frankly, "Anora will feel we've betrayed her."
"I don't doubt it, but she'd have a bloody fucking nerve to feel I owe her my children! No sane monarch has that right. You know what I owe Anora? Absolutely nothing. She owes me her life and her throne. Alistair is clearly too besotted to remind her how close she came to being locked away for life or summarily executed. If she chooses to forget that, so much the worse for her. I will have a child—as many children as I choose—and I don't care that—" she snapped her fingers "—for Anora's plans!"
This was Maude at her most dauntless and exciting, and Loghain felt his heart—and other parts—warm. Morrigan and Anders were there, so he controlled himself. It was for him to be the voice of reason and prudence, clearly.
"Maude, you shouldn't have a child simply to thwart Anora. That's not a good reason to bring a new life into the world—and especially into the maelstrom of Fereldan politics. This child would be a teyrn…or teyrna, almost from birth! Is that what you want for a child of yours?"
She blinked, her gaze incredulous. "Er…yes? I always expected any child of mine to be an arl or arlessa at the very least. Teyrn is fine. And I promise," she said solemnly, raising her right hand up to the Maker, "that if I bear a son, you may name him Gareth. This, I swear."
"I'm in." Loghain said instantly.
Anders began coughing again.
Once committed to any course of action, Loghain had always thrown himself into it without reserve. This time, it meant being examined—very thoroughly— by Anders.
"You're in pretty amazing shape, you know. No, really, Loghain—were you like this before you Joined, or did old Avernus' magic Joining Juice really do all Morrigan claims?"
"I felt instantly better and stronger after taking Avernus' potion," Loghain admitted. "Joint aches disappeared right away. I have more energy and stamina. Mind you, it tasted really bad, but I'm convinced you mages do that deliberately anyway."
Anders chuckled, going through a chest full of vials, while Loghain slipped back into his clothes.
"Well," the young man smirked, "who'd believe that a potion was powerful unless it was impressively revolting? The good news is that I can see no reason why you shouldn't be able to make lots more little Loghains—however truly scary that thought. I have my own ideas about what the standard Joining does to men, but you're fine—absolutely fine. I think the issue is going to be with Maude, and not for the usual Grey Warden reasons."
After her examination, he called them together. Maude wanted Morrigan there, because "You never know. Morrigan might decide she wants a baby, and she should find out if it's possible."
Morrigan sneered from her chair by the window. "I take my contraceptive tea every morning to avoid just such a catastrophe."
"Yes—well—" Anders looked briefly unhappy, and then took a breath and told Maude his diagnosis.
"You want to know if it's possible. My best answer is—I'm not sure."
"What?" Maude looked indignant.
Anders waved his hand for silence. "Hear me out. Your equipment is fine, but it's not working properly. I think the whole Joining issue affects women differently than it does men. The standard Joining, as far as I understand, really does, in a manner of speaking, burn up a man's seed. But I don't think that's what happening with women at all. They probably have centuries of research on this in Weisshaupt, but I can understand that we don't want to tip our hand to them." He turned to Maude. "You told me you last had your courses in Harvestmere when we were in Honnleath. Furthermore, they've been irregular ever since you became a Grey Warden. What changed in your life—other than the Joining itself—since then?"
Maude frowned, thinking. "Since I Joined the Grey Wardens? Hmmm…I guess I'd have to say that people have been trying to kill me all the time…"
Anders nodded, encouraging her to go on. "Y—e—s? And because they were trying to kill you, what were you doing?"
"Not letting them?"
"R—ight. How were you not letting them?"
Maude beamed. "Killing them instead!"
Loghain interrupted impatiently. "Yes, I'm familiar with young women in the army being in superb fighting condition. It often does keep them from having their courses, which in the army is plain good news. That it thus keeps them from becoming inconveniently pregnant would of course follow. In Maric's Shield—throughout the army in fact—the women also have access to contraceptive tea, and must take it if they wish promotion." He paused. "Are you saying that's the issue with Maude?" He would not be surprised. He had never met any woman in fighting trim to equal hers, and he had known dozens of brilliant women warriors.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Anders said, looking at a sulky Maude. "Yes, Maude, it means you have to cut back on all the violent exercise and killing your enemies and leaping over ogres in a single bound and riding horses at incredible speed. Not completely," he soothed her, seeing her wrath about to boil over. "Not completely, because that wouldn't be good for you either, but you've really got to get out of the armor and into a gown, get plenty to eat and lots of rest, and…well, soften up a bit."
Maude stared at him. "You're a horrible person, and I hate you."
"Do not be absurd, Maude," Morrigan scolded. "You said you wished to move heaven and earth to have a child. 'Tis quite unnecessary. Order some new gowns and try spending a few hours a day leading the life of a lady of leisure. I told Anders that I think it also an issue that you spent most of the Blight year without quite enough to eat—certainly not enough to eat for a new Grey Warden. Our meals were irregular during the last few months as well. One's body finds ways of defending itself when under stress. You must become accustomed to comfort. If you need a model, consider your appalling cousin Habren, who appears to do nothing at all but loll on cushions, eat sweetmeats, purchase things she does not need, and insult those she considers beneath her. In addition," she said, looking meaningfully at Anders, "there are some potions we can give you to help things along."
"I…don't know," Anders grimaced, "if I want to see what Maude would be like on those potions…"
"And," Morrigan continued, ignoring Anders' protest, "Loghain should take the usual fertility potions as well."
"But I don't see…"
"If Maude must take potions, then Loghain ought to as well," Morrigan repeated firmly.
Maude was very pleased at the idea. "That's very fair of you, Morrigan!"
Loghain shrugged, "I assume the potions will not cause me to be unable to perform my duties."
Morrigan smirked faintly. Anders rolled his eyes. "No. You'll be performing your duties just fine on my potions."
Maude set about being "softer" with a vengeance, and that very evening. New gowns were ordered, and she ate an extra helping of pudding at dinner. Loghain could not say that she was looking"soft," but she certainly looked wonderful: the potion had given her a rosy glow. Her eyes were bright, her skin radiant. Not "soft," then, but ripe: luscious and desirable and ready for him.
Which was just as well, because his potions were definitely having an effect. Grey Wardens were famous for stamina, and he suspected he would need it. He was ready for dinner to be over and to sweep delectable Maude off to their bedchamber.
"Arl Eamon will be back in Denerim tomorrow," Anora told Loghain, leaner closer to him over dessert. "He was in Redcliffe for a brief visit, but he and the Arlessa will probably arrive early in the morning. Bann Teagan will be with them. Do try to get on with them, Father. "
Loghain shrugged, utterly uninterested in the Guerrins at this or any other moment. "I don't see us getting on, but I promise not to draw my sword on Eamon unless he really deserves it."
"You're impossible!"
"He is," laughed Maude, overhearing them. She winked at Alistair and made him laugh as well.
In fact, Maude was perfectly charming to Their Majesties at dinner. Charming and respectful and somehow giving the impression that their wish was her command. Loghain was almost sorry to see Anora so taken in by it. On the other hand, seeing Chantry Boy led about by the nose was always deeply enjoyable.
When at last the Queen made her ponderous exist, escorted by her solicitous King. Maude leaned close to Loghain and whispered, "How would you like to tie me up?"
As it happened, very much indeed. They hurried back to their bedchamber to make it happen as quickly as possible.
The Grey Warden Prisoner was quite an exciting game. A prisoner could not be permitted clothes, and Maude, her hair hanging loose, was soon quite naked, over Loghain's knee, and at his mercy, such as it was.
"You've been a wicked girl," Loghain told her grimly. A series of sharp spanks on her firm and squirming bottom punctuated the litany of crime. "A rebel…" Spank! "An outlaw…" Spank! "A conspirator…" Spank! "A thief…" Spank! "A spy for the Empress of Orlais…" A final, stinging Spank! reddened the smooth white skin.
"I am not a spy!" Maude protested stoutly, her voice muffled by the bedclothes. "I'll never confess to that! Never!"
"I have ways of getting at the truth," Loghain said, his voice harsh with lust. He flipped her over onto her back and reached for a pair of long, silken belts retrieved from her wardrobe. Working quickly, Maude was bound firmly but carefully, wrist to ankle, her legs spread open, unable to resist, even had she wanted to. It was much easier, Loghain noted, to tie up a woman when she was being cooperative.
And then he was over her, skin against skin as his weight pressed down on her and his lips found hers.
"Confess…" he growled, nipping at her neck, her shoulders, the offered rose-tipped breasts.
"Never!" she cheerfully defied him. "My lips are sealed."
"We'll see about that." Deliberately, he moved his fingertips down, trailing them over her belly, then moving in circles just outside her moist and inviting folds. A quick finger inside her made her squeak and jump. "Your lips don't seemed very sealed to me."
"I shall bravely endure your base usage," she declared, her breath quickening, "...if you could move your hand a little to the right…"
He pinched the little pink bundle of nerves sharply, and she moaned. "And I'd like to endure it right about now, Loghain!"
He entered her slowly, savoring every inch. Her body adjusted to the invasion, stretching around him as she cooed with relief. A moment of stillness, of pure sensation, and then he began to move, filling her repeatedly, relentlessly, with her urgent consent.
"Confess," he grunted, slamming into her.
"Well," she panted, "I stole your Regent's crown from your seneschal at the Gnawed Noble! How's that?"
He growled at her, putting his back into it, "I know you did! What did you do with it?"
"Sold it!" she gasped back. "I got twenty sovereigns from a dwarven trader! Oh, Loghain, faster, please!"
"You don't deserve it," he snarled, thrusting into her with long, sensual strokes. "You've been a very bad girl! Confess!"
"Er…I know! I smuggled lyrium from Orzammar to the Circle!"
"Maker's Breath, Maude!" Loghain shouted, pounding away. "Are you out of your mind? The Chantry will do you for heresy for that!"
"Then they shouldn't get the Templars addicted!" she wailed ecstatically. "And most of what I did in Denerim, by the way, I did solely to get your attention!"
"Well, you've got it now," he got it now, pleasure quickening his hips. He leaned on one hand, the other reaching down, touching and teasing; keeping up his relentless pace until she cried his name; trembling as his release seeped out of her.
A long, gasping pause followed as the room became a normal bedchamber, and the moaning young woman underneath him became his wife.
"Hurts," she whimpered.
Instantly, he set about untying her, rubbing her wrists soothingly. She turned onto her side and he spooned up behind her, holding her gently.
"That was fun," she murmured, "That was really fun. I've done lots of other bad things I should tell you about."
"Later," he sighed, deep relief making his limbs blissfully heavy. He blew out the candle, and snuggled down closer against her back. "And sometime I'll have to get you to tell me all the Grey Warden secrets."
"Nuh-uh," she disagreed sleepily. "I'm going to make you tell the Grey Warden secrets. How I shall make you suffer…"
"Sounds good…"
"Loghain?"
"What now?"
"I think some of those potions Anders and Morrigan gave us must be aphrodisiacs."
"Probably."
"Neat…"
They lingered long in bed the following morning. Loghain performed his duty with a will, and then they lazed, considering what to do after breakfast. "We have heaps of letters," Maude told him, arms under her head lifting her breasts saucily. "Most of them are probably rubbish, but I suppose I should make a start."
"Go to it, Senior Warden."
She rolled over, deliberately misunderstanding him. "As you wish, Commander." He was almost prepared for the pounce.
A little later, they walked into breakfast together, interrupting Oghren in midst of a filthy story.
"—and she started crying, pointing at him. 'We've been married only one night,' she sobbed, 'and it's almost used up already!'"
Sigrun gave him the required laughs. Maude managed a friendly greeting before throwing herself into her food.
"Mushrooms!" she exclaimed, heaping them onto her plate. "This is heavenly!"
Their breakfast over, Oghren and Sigrun went their way, and not long after, Morrigan and Anders sauntered in, voices raised in intellectual debate.
"There you are!" cried Morrigan. "We wanted to know how you are faring on the potions."
Loghain snorted. Maude smirked at him, and said, "Wonderfully well! I feel glorious. Don't you feel glorious, Loghain?"
"All except the part about Eamon Guerrin arriving today," he grunted.
"There is that," Maude agreed. "I'm sure the King and Queen will have quite the conversation with him. I'd love to be a fly on that wall!"
Loghain nodded, a bit despondently. He really would like to know how Anora was going to present her plan to Eamon…what she would offer him to support her grabbing at Denerim… a fly on the wall sounded like a fine idea…
Slowly his gaze shifted to Anders. The mage looked back, blinked, and asked, "What?"
Loghain began to smile. Really smile. Understandably, Anders was somewhat nervous at this. Maude looked at them and suddenly had the same thought.
"Nobody knows that Anders is Ser-Pounce-a-Lot!"
"Nobody that we're sending him to spy on," Loghain agreed equably.
Anders was horrified. "Now just a minute…"
Morrigan was completely unsympathetic. "I would it do it myself, did not the King—" she said the word with utter scorn "—know me to be a shapeshifter, and did he not know all the forms I have mastered. Why else learn such an art, if not to take advantage of credulous fools?"
"That's what I say!" seconded Maude. "Credulous fools ought to be taken advantage of at every opportunity! It's good for them! Quick, Anders, have a nice breakfast, and then slip through to the Palace and find out what Eamon and Their Majesties have to say to each other. It'll be fun!"
Not too much later, a small ginger cat slinked away, guarded by Ranger, who was instructed to watch Pounce at a distance and make sure nothing ate him. Topaz stayed at the Compound, lazing about and scrounging a second breakfast. Loghain eyed her in concern, hoping she would not get fat on all this rich Palace food.
Morrigan was complacently enjoying her own breakfast. "Such a pity His Majesty knows my forms. I must study anew perhaps, but I shudder at the idea of being a domestic creature. Of course, there are always rats…" She narrowed her eyes at Maude's innocent expression. "You should be taking you potions with food. Have you had them? No? Take them at once!"
"Yes, you Maginess," Maude laughed. "I'll go get them."
Morrigan watched them drink them down, much amused. "You know, Maude, such potions have been known to lead to multiple births…." She rose and departed, hips swaying.
"That's amazing," Maude remarked. "You wouldn't think that somebody could gloat just by walking and moving their hips, but Morrigan's hips just gloated at me!"
Loghain suppressed a groan, still appalled at the idea of more than one child at a time. That would just about finish me off. "Come on. Paperwork awaits us."
She followed him into the study quite agreeably, and they sat down in front of a heaping pile of parchment, and began sorting through it. There were a lot of bills from their workmen. There were pleading letters from people wanting the Grey Wardens to find their cats, so to speak.
There was a very polite letter from the Grey Warden post at Tantervale in the Free Marches, concerned about the rumors of "talking darkspawn." Loghain set that aside, planning to give them a serious answer. He dug back into the pile.
"Here's one," he said after a little while, "from a young admirer," he displayed the childish writing—"wanting to know how to become a Grey Warden and offering his services."
Maude snatched it up and looked at it. "Poor little innocent! I'll answer this one, Loghain—very nicely. I won't say, 'be in the wrong place at the wrong time,' or, 'be condemned for a capital crime.' He's only nine…what a sweet boy... would you rather have a boy or a girl, Loghain?"
He should have known she would have that on her mind.
"From what Anders indicated, we'll be lucky to have either. I suppose it would be interesting to have a son, since I've already had the experience of raising a daughter."
"That's what I thought you'd say. I really don't care. I'm still a little worried about Morrigan's threat that the potions they've given us raise my chances of having twins. I hope that doesn't happen."
Loghain understood what she meant. Twins were traditionally held to be unlucky, mostly because they were often born earlier and one or more were more likely to die. Also, the birthing was far more complicated, and therefore more dangerous. In addition…
"I hope it doesn't either," he agreed. "Running after one toddler is likely to be taxing enough at my age."
"Really, Loghain!" Maude shook her head at him. "You'd think you'd never heard of nursemaids!" Suddenly distracted, she reached for a letter bearing the seal of Highever.
"From Fergus!" she declared, happy and excited. She broke the seal deftly and scanned it. Loghain was astonished at how her expression altered so very, very fast.
"What's wrong?"
"…er…nothing…" she blew out a breath, read on, and then shouted, "Maker's fucking breath!"
"Maude, must you use that word all the time?"
She waved the letter in his face, looking absolutely thunderstruck.
"Fergus is married!" she shrieked.
"Really?" He frowned, trying to take the letter she was waving, but she snatched it back, and read it herself.
"He's married, and they're expecting already! Or maybe they were expecting and then got married. He's not very clear about that bit. They're very, very happy… Anyway, he didn't want to wait to come to Denerim for the Landsmeet for a posh wedding here. They just went to the Chantry in Highever, and the Revered Mother did it for them… barrels of ale in the Market for the people. Yes, Fergus, I'm sure that was popular…"
She glanced up at him, head lowered, looking at him under her brows. "And you will not believe the name of the bride!"
Something in her expression gave him pause. Maude was quite obviously not particularly pleased about Fergus' choice of wife…
Could it be possible…?
She grimaced. "You guessed it, Loghain. You are the clever lad. Fergus has once again followed his heart— through whatever thorny country it takes him. A bride with a thumping great dowry to rebuild Highever would have been actually practical, but Fergus is an incurable romantic. And he never again has to fear for his wife not being able to defend herself or her children. I can see that would be quite an attraction."
He waited for her to say the name and make it real. She granted him a grim, lop-side smile.
"Yes, Teyrna Cauthrien has been his strong right hand as he puts Highever in order. She doesn't know much about domestic management or playing the grand chatelaine, but by the Maker, she knows how to whip new guard recruits into shape!"
Loghain sat staring at her. After a moment, he said, "Cauthrien…is Teyrna of Highever. I can see you are not very happy at the news."
"Cauthrien and I have a checkered past, and she, being an honest woman, told Fergus as much," she admitted. "However, I don't want you telling anyone I'm not happy about this. Fergus will need support. A lot of noblewomen and their ambitious mothers are going to be enraged by this bit of news. Really enraged, like hiring Crows enraged. A mere knight—a lowborn knight at that—to snatch the most eligible man in Ferelden? They're going to be as horrible as they dare to Cauthrien, too." Maude made an almost comically despondent face. "I'm going to have to back her up. I'm going to have to stand by her side and act thrilled."
Loghain carefully did not smile. "You're not going to seek revenge on her for 'slugging' you at Fort Drakon?"
"Can't," she scowled. "She's preggers. I'll have a private talk with her about not calling people 'churls' and about what I'll do to her if she makes Fergus unhappy, but other than that, I'll have to give her a pass. Highever needs an heir. I hope she has twins!" she added, viciously.
Anders made his report just after lunch. They retired to Loghain and Maude's room to hear it in private. Morrigan shouldered her way in and took the most comfortable chair. They waited for Anders to pull himself together and start talking. At last he did, but it began differently than they expected.
"Arl Eamon," he shuddered, "likes cats. A lot."
"Oh, poor Anders!" Maude sympathized. "Did the nasty Arl pet you?"
Loghain felt his face tense in a rictus of disgust. Spying was such a dirty business.
Anders declared, "I am scarred for life. You both will owe me until the day I die."
"Of course we shall," Maude soothed him. "Absolutely true. So good and clever of you to do it. I'm sure you have totally amazing things to tell us."
"As it happens," Anders said, lifting his chin proudly, "I do."
He perched himself on the deep window sill and folded his arms.
"Their Majesties were very happy to see the Arl and he was very polite too, offering Her Majesty congratulations on how well her condition was progressing. And it is going very well, so magic once again trumps mere pious prayer. They chatted about the people coming to town, and they talked about you and how popular you were at the moment. They must have talked to the Arl about their ideas for Denerim already, because he seemed to know all about them, and didn't care much for them. He wanted his brother to be appointed Arl of Denerim. That's when the Queen dangled a bigger fish in front of him."
Anders had their complete and utter attention.
"The King and Queen swore him to secrecy, and then told him about the plan for Gwaren. They told him that they would present the offer, but that it would never happen, because you, Maude, were barren. Furthermore, they said it would be moot in a few years, because Grey Wardens don't live long. They think that Loghain will be dead in five years or less, because of his age at Joining. They think Maude is too reckless to live long anyway. So their "reward" to the Grey Wardens is moot, and the big question is who will really get Gwaren after you're gone. The Queen suggested that Bann Teagan be made the Teyrn-Protector of Gwaren until the agreement runs out. Eamon was not to tell Teagan any of this. Teagan would believe his job would be to hold and manage the teyrnir until your child is old enough to hold it himself or herself. However, once you're out of the way, or admit that there will never be a child, Teagan would be prepared to take the teyrnir."
"Lucky Teagan!" Loghain sneered.
"Well," Anders laughed, "Not so lucky, really. I stayed after the Arl was gone, and curled up under the Queen's chair. The deal with Eamon is a fake, too. Anora doesn't think Eamon will live more than a few more years. She heard something from a Healer who's treated him. He's never bounced back well from the time he was poisoned…"
Loghain sighed gustily. What a fiasco. He should just have had the mage kill him outright. Life would be simpler.
"…anyway," Anders said, "they really do want to make Teagan Teyrn-Protector of Gwaren, but that's so he'll take care of the place until they have a child who can inherit it. Right now, the Queen feels the main thing is to get Denerim solidly within their grasp. Then they'd move on to Gwaren. The King said he hoped they would have more children, but if they didn't, letting Teagan have the teyrnir wouldn't be so bad. The Queen doesn't agree at all. She thinks Redcliffe is quite enough for him, and he'll have it sooner rather than later. There's talk that the Arlessa is pregnant, but they haven't made it official. The Queen doesn't believe it."
"In short," Loghain said, the words sour in his mouth, "Anora is attempting not only to use us to trick the Landsmeet, she is attempting to trick the Chancellor as well, by offering him something she has no intention of giving away."
Maude considered it all. "I don't have a problem with Teagan managing the place, but I don't think he should be called Teyrn-Protector. I think Lord-Protector is more appropriate. That way it doesn't sound like a demotion when he becomes Arl of Redcliffe, which he almost certainly will be."
"Teagan might not do badly," Loghain said grudgingly, knowing that he himself could not possibly manage both Gwaren and the Wardens. "Anora is playing a deep game—a dangerous game. It's just as well that we'll put a stop to it sooner rather than later."
Two days later, the Teyrn and Teyrna of Highever arrived, along with their retinue. A message arrived at the compound, apprising Loghain and Maude of the arrival, and inviting them to dinner at Highever House. Loghain suspected he was as nervous as Maude about this evening.
Fergus met them as they came in the door, giving Maude the fiercest hug he could, in deference to her elegant gown. Loghain had never seen the young man looking so happy. Cauthrien hung back a little, proud and impassive, but with the least hint of pleading in her eyes.
What struck him from the first was that Cauthrien looked quite wonderful in blue and white. Highever colors became her.
He gave her the slightest nod, and a hint of a smile. If this was the future she wanted for herself, she should have it. Fergus would have a loyal wife and Highever a fair and hard-working teyrna, and if that was a finger in the eye to the useless, twittering noblewomen of Ferelden, then Loghain was all for it.
The teyrn held his sister at arm's length, looking her over, grinning.
"Little sister! You look beautiful! After all the wild rumors out of Amaranthine, I thought you must be a complete wreck."
"I'm quite sure the rumors fall short of the ghastly reality," Maude said promptly. "And I am a complete wreck, but a resurrected wreck."
He laughed and put his arm around her, offering his hand to Loghain.
"Come," he said, "and meet my Teyrna."
"My lady," Loghain said, gravely and sincerely. "I hope you will be very happy."
"Especially since you've made awful old Fergus so happy. His letter was absolutely gushing!" Maude said cheerfully. "I hear there is a young Cousland on the way? Do tell me all!"
"This way."
Her smile uncertain, Cauthrien led them into the firelit parlor of Highever House. Loghain wondered how she was enjoying the transition from hardbitten veteran to great lady. She certainly looked like she was moving into her new role, but her gestures were still strong and direct; her speech plain and unequivocal. She was something of a soldier in a fine gown, but Loghain certainly preferred that to the useless parasites who had spent the Blight cowering under their beds or in Denerim or in the Free Marches "for their health."
Fergus was smiling at Cauthrien, squeezing her hand. Cauthrien smiled back, her face smoothing into…happiness. Yes, she looked happy. She smiled back at her husband, and said. "The child is due in Harvestmere." She laughed self-consciously. "I suppose that's appropriate."
Fergus laughed too. "Highever will never have had such a Satinalia to celebrate before! You'll be the child's godmother is it's a girl, won't you, Maude? And you, Loghain? If it's a boy? That's what Cauthrien and I would wish, more than anything."
"Fergus," Maude said carefully, "You do us great honor, but I must point out that it might be the prudent, politic move to ask the King and Queen? They would not refuse you, and it would give them a personal interest in the Highever heir."
Cauthrien frowned, thinking, but shook her head. Fergus was already waving Maude's admonition away.
"No. It's you two we want. I know what you're saying about the King and Queen. Maybe some day, if we're lucky enough to have more children. This one, we want you for. I want you for the girl and Cauthrien wants Loghain for the boy. You're concerned about having godparents who can look after the child and give him a bit of extra protection, but I'd like to point out that Rendon Howe was my godfather, and it didn't do me a bit of good. And Oren—" He paused, glancing guiltily at Loghain.
"Yes," Loghain said quietly. "I remember that Maric was your little boy's godfather. I'd like to point out that I'm sure he did not intend to die and leave the land—or its children- without a protector, but these things do happen. None of us can claim to be immortal. I would honored to stand for your son, if that is what you wish," he finished, looking at Cauthrien.
"It is. It is," she said earnestly.
"Oh!" cried Maude. "I almost forgot! I have presents for the bride and groom!" She drew out a silken bundle. "Something for Fergus and something for Cauthrien. I must confess that neither of these things cost me a penny, but they're rightfully yours, all the same."
Maude loved giving presents, Loghain knew. She watched her brother and sister-in-law unwrap the gifts, beaming delightedly at their expressions.
"I found those cups at horrible Bann Esmerelle's place in the city of Amaranthine. Rendon Howe must have given her his Highever loot. I found some of my books there, too. Anyway, I thought you'd like the cups, and that necklace was Mother's, so I wanted the Teyrna of Highever to have it. I burgled Esmerelle's room when she was staying at Vigil's Keep. She shouldn't have made a point of taunting me by wearing it!"
Fergus called to a servant. "Put these cups on the table. I want to drink from them tonight!"
Cauthrien was staring bemusedly at the huge pearl and ruby pendant. "It's…amazing…" She turned it over and saw the Highever symbol and Eleanor Cousland's initials. "Yes, I see. Thank you for this. I shall be proud to wear it."
"Put it on now!" Fergus blurted out eagerly. "I want to see it around your neck. Go on, Cauthrien! It looks gorgeous on you!"
It did look very well. Cauthrien was tall and imposing enough to carry off such a massive piece of jewelry. She fingered the big teardrop pearl in disbelief, and a more natural smile found its way on her lips. Loghain hoped she would wear it every day of the Landsmeet. She could use it as an auxiliary weapon to knock down silly women who annoyed her.
They went into dinner a little later and talked long about the state of affairs in Highever and in Amaranthine. Fergus had been too engrossed in his own teyrnir to know much of what was going on. Maude gave him an abridged version, and assured him the worst was over.
"I hope that's true," the young man said seriously. "Highever's had about all it can take in this age, I think. The town was badly damaged during the riots and by the outright thievery of Howe's men. The alienage is almost deserted. The castle…well…it's clear Howe never expected to have to live there, or he wouldn't have done what he did. By the time we got there, his men had run off, and we found an empty ruin. The bodies had long since been burned together, and there was no way we were ever going to be able to retrieve the family's remains. I put up a memorial to them in Highever Chantry, but there's no urn. Sorry, pup."
Maude looked away. "It's hardly your fault. I had hoped…this sounds foolish, but I'd hoped that there might still be prisoners in the dungeons. I even checked Vigil's Keep, but there were no Highever people there."
Fergus looked at her in compassion. "It would have been madness to keep anyone alive. The whole point of that attack was to try to keep Howe's name out of it, and any surviving prisoner would have started rumors. They're gone, pup, and it's for us to start over." He lifted his cup, "Here's to the ones who have gone before."
They joined the toast and drank in silence. The preceding conversation had made Loghain more than a little uncomfortable, remembering how easily he has written off the Couslands once Howe had massacred them. He had felt he was being pragmatic at the time, and that was certainly true. Heartlessly pragmatic. He should never have let Howe have a free hand. Despite the chaos he feared if both Highever and Amaranthine were without lords, he should have taken steps against Howe immediately. It had been the worst mistake of all. Cauthrien was not looking at him, and it was possible she felt the same.
Rain was starting outside: a mild spring rain. Out in the countryside, the farmers would be pleased. People were anxiously watching the burnt-off fields to see if they had been cured of the Blight. Loghain pictured a fine green mist forming over the Ferelden earth; pictured it and prayed for it. The rain pattered musically against the windows, and a fresh breeze stirred the hangings.
"Speaking of starting over, Fergus," Maude said conversationally, "I don't know if you've heard about all Their Majesties' plans, especially for Denerim."
Fergus paused over his wine, and then glanced at the servants. "You're dismissed," he said quietly. "I'll call when I want you. Go down to the kitchens."
They were well-trained, and so hardly looked at each other as they left. Loghain was sure they'd have plenty to say once they were down in the servants' hall.
"Yes," Fergus said gravely. "We know about the King and Queen having their sights on Denerim. I'm sure the Queen's plans are splendid, but they're simply not going to happen. I'm not speaking against your daughter, Loghain, but for the Crown to possess bother Gwaren and Denerim as fiefdoms would give the Crown far too much power. All the personal vassals they'd gain in the Landsmeet would permit them nearly the kind of unlimited power that we see in Orlais. Remember, the Orlesians used to have a kind of Landsmeet themselves—"
"Les États-Généraux," murmured Maude.
"Right. That thing they call it, but it hasn't met in ages. The Empress simply has too much power, and her nobles aren't much more than upper servants now. We don't want that sort of thing in Ferelden, and giving the Crown a teyrnir and an arling is a big step in that direction."
"I agree," Loghain said immediately, "and I told Anora that I saw no way that the Landsmeet would ever agree to it. She still has her heart set on one of them, and I'm not sure I think it's a bad idea for the Crown to rule Denerim. It would be more efficient, certainly, and she can effect her plans to improve the city without an Arl of Denerim in her way. I think you can make the argument that the Crown is too weak at the moment. And Anora has had second thoughts about Gwaren."
He blew out a breath, while Fergus and Cauthrien exchanged interested looks. Indeed, Cauthrien looked at Loghain in concern. Loghain glanced over at Maude, and lifted his brows. Perhaps it was best if Fergus heard this part of the story from his sister. She knew him better than Loghain, and knew what she could tell him and what she could not.
"The Queen felt she could only let Gwaren go to family," Maude said demurely. "It troubled her that Loghain and I have saved Ferelden and received no proper reward—nor can we, being Grey Wardens. So…" she paused, building the suspense, and giving Fergus a wry smile. "So she wishes to propose at the Landsmeet that Gwaren be the fiefdom of our 'firstborn child.'"
Cauthrien actually sat up and looked hopeful. Fergus grinned. "Your child and Loghain's? That would make sense. Good sense. It's a decent solution. I think quite a few of the banns would go for it. No one expected to be given Gwaren anyway. More people had their eye on Denerim. Let's see…" He threw back his head, mentally counting votes. "Bryland and his people, my people, probably Wulffe's…What about Delilah Howe? I can't see her daring to go against us."
"I don't think she would. However, there is a complication you should know about. I support it, and you should too, in exchange for Amaranthine's votes on the Gwaren issue…"
She told him about the end of Esmerelle, and Nathaniel's provisional appointment. Fergus was irritated at the idea of Bann Nathaniel Howe, but not so irritated that he did not want his sister's child to inherit a teyrnir.
"The Howes were cooperative in every way during our adventures in Amaranthine. Bann Esmerelle was the troublemaker, but she is gone," Loghain pointed out.
"I think Nathaniel will be quite a good bann," Maude told Fergus. "He fought bravely, and put his people first, even when he didn't know they were his people. We can also put pressure on them to support you…and your marriage." Maude looked meaningly at her brother and his wife.
Fergus scowled, but knew she was right. His marriage to Cauthrien would have to be recognized by the Landsmeet for their children to inherit. He did not expect a great deal of trouble, but he knew there would be some.
"However," Maude said, looking at the ceiling, "it's very important to me that this agreement about my child be made as favorably as possible, and Loghain and I can't be seen to be pushing hard for it. It wouldn't look very nice, and it might raise some hackles. I really need you to do the heavy lifting here, Fergus."
"Of course I will—"
"And I need you to go over the terms very carefully before it's put to a vote. For example, the Queen spoke of our 'firstborn.' Does that mean that if our first child were to be stillborn or to die, that our oldest surviving child would not be covered by the agreement?"
Fergus sat back and gave her a hard look. "You think this offer is not being made in good faith."
Loghain took a breath, but forbore to speak. Sometimes Fergus' candid, open-hearted manner caused him to forget that Fergus, too, had been raised by Bryce and Eleanor Cousland.
Maude cocked her head. They could not tell Fergus and Cauthrien Grey Warden secrets, but they could dance about the subject.
Maude said, "There are all sorts of ways this 'reward' could be made onerous or ultimately elusive. The Queen, for example, said that if Loghain and I had no children, the teyrnir would pass to the Crown at our deaths. Obviously, for us to have no children would be very convenient. If the agreement is only for a 'firstborn,' as I mentioned, it is possible that a younger, surviving child would be eliminated from the succession. Or the title of the one managing the teyrnir might be one that leads one to believe that the intention is to give him the lands instead of the child. Or there might be a provision to remove the child from our care and place him with a guardian appointed by the Crown. There might be a provision to give him the title only pending a period of probation, which could be revoked at the Crown's pleasure. There could be a provision to give the teyrnir's revenues to the Crown until the child is confirmed in the title. I really want an agreement that will protect this child's interests and our interests as his or her parents. I don't want the Crown being given any room to maneuver. I want the child to have the title from birth, and if something were to happen to the child, I would want the title to pass to the next sibling without question. We really need this, Fergus."
Cauthrien put in, "Is there some reason for the Queen to think you will not have children?" Trust Cauthrien to cut to the heart of the matter.
Loghain said, "The Queen hears many rumors. Not all of them are true. And you did not hear me say that."
Fergus narrowed his eyes. Maude explained, her face mischievous.
"The Queen may think I am barren, for some reason or other. It is important that you behave as if you know nothing of such a rumor. If confronted with it, laugh it off as too ridiculous to believe—but not because I've said it was untrue. It will be for the best, in the end."
Cauthrien groaned. "I hate politics!"
Maude laughed. "Well, you're a Cousland-by-marriage, so you'll find yourself living and breathing politics. You're in it now, and no mistake!"
The Landsmeet would begin in two days. Nobles, their families, and their hangers-on were flooding into Denerim. With them was the usual crowd of itinerant traders, thieves, harlots, and swords-for-hire.
Loghain was glad to escape into Grey Warden correspondence and plans for Soldier's Peak, letting Maude do the swanning about and politicking in and out of the noble townhouses of Denerim. She and Ranger were gone most of a day to Highever House, closeted with her brother, Leonas Bryland, Alfstanna Haldane, and a surprisingly large set of her former supporters from the Landsmeet. Nobles for whom she had performed notable services, like Bann Sighard's son Oswyn, were coming out the woodwork for her. Teagan Guerrin visited Highever House and voiced his support, but Loghain was unsurprised, knowing that Teagan had always liked Maude. Loghain had expected serious resistance to the idea of their child inheriting Gwaren, but Maude had more friends than he had realized. When the Amaranthine contingent arrived, she should have plenty of votes to achieve her goal.
"Actually, my darling, it's not so much that they want to give Gwaren to our theoretical child, as that they don't want any of their peers to get it instead," she told him, arriving warm and glowing, her scent as heady as ripe peaches. He was glad to see her, having struggled with a growing and distracting tension across his groin for most of the afternoon. It was very convenient for their bed to be only a few steps away from the study. He swept her away, locked the door, and set about unlacing her from her formidably complicated confection of dark yellow silk and brown velvet. If there was never an heir to Gwaren, it wouldn't be for lack of trying.
Thanks to my reviewers: Josie, Lange, Zute, Guile, Gene Dark, Shakespira, Phygmalion, Sarah1281, Rosabell, Enaid Aderyn, Judy, mille libri, cloud1004, Costin, Fastforwarmotion, RakeeshJ4, Juliafied, Eva Galana, guantanamobayxx, Kira Kyuu, Duel Soul, icey cold, delilahmedea, tree1138, JackOfBladesX, Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, irishman91, mutive, Eliar, Lehni, Jenna53, Tyanilth, Jyggilag, Tall Tales-Feline Jaye, Merithea.
Juliafied, Judy, and Eliar did not use the messaging system, so I was not able to give them individual replies, however, they should know that I appreciate their reviews all the same!
I fudged the meaning of 'Loghain,' since it is not a real name. The rest of the meanings are accurate.
Next chapter: The Landsmeet, and what came of it.