The Keening Blade

Chapter 30: The King's Speech

The Landsmeet opened on a clear spring day: the sort of day that should grace the beginning of the Landsmeet, but rarely did. Normally, there was a late frost, or a heavy rain, and everyone arrived either frozen or drenched, and stinking of wet wool like a flock of very important sheep.

Today, though— today was perfect. Loghain watched Maude array herself in her splendid black armor, as carefully as ever she arrayed herself for battle. This would be a battle, of course: a battle of words and manipulation; of promises and shameless lies and horse-trading, but still a battle.

"Not your new gown?" he asked.

"No. You're in armor…I'm in armor. I want to appear before them as a Warden, not a nubile young woman. No need to give the Crown second thoughts even before they've committed themselves. Help me with this pauldron, won't you?"

There was always a huge crowd at the first day of the Landsmeet. The law said that only voting members and people whose petitions were being heard were supposed to gather in the Chamber, but no one paid the least attention to that. The voting members always brought their families. They brought their closest friends and advisors. Distinguished foreign guests sometimes attended, and Maric had used that custom to support his decree that the Grey Wardens were welcome.

It was beyond ironic that Loghain was attending the Landsmeet as, in effect, the representative of a foreign order of warriors, but it got him into the Landsmeet, and any Grey Warden who wished to attend as well. Besides, who was going to keep the Queen's father out? Or the sister of the Teyrn of Highever, for that matter?

The Wardens could enter through a passageway connected to the passage. Another passage at the top of the room connected with the Royal Apartments. Maude held Loghain back, peering around the corner, watching the Landsmeet Chamber fill.

"We want to make a proper entrance!" she murmured, eyes very bright.

All the Wardens were attending. Morrigan had sneered about the boredom of it, but she was here all the same, gorgeous in half-a-hundredweight of jewels and the dark blue gown given to her by the guildsmen of Amaranthine. As usual, she was attracting a great deal of notice. Anders smiled at the young ladies, and quite a bit at the ladies of a certain age. Morrigan seemed oblivious to his flirtations today. Her mind was evidently on more important things.

Keenan was here, looking about in a pleasant, interested way, and his wife was with him, dressed in her best, obviously impressed with her surroundings and even more impressed with herself for being here. Loghain grimaced.

Sigrun and Oghren had come, purely out of curiosity, and had found the benches at the back corner, where they could watch the proceedings in what comfort the place allowed.

Delilah Howe entered, accompanied by her brother. She was dressed richly but quietly, and appeared calm and prepared for the whispers and criticism. The criticism was tempered by considerable interest in Nathaniel Howe, who was being formally proposed for the bannorn of Amaranthine City, and thus had risen from being the landless son of a traitor to an eligible young nobleman. The women were eyeing him speculatively, as if judging a goose for Firstday dinner. He was grim and unsmiling, and had never looked more like his father.

Fergus arrived, Cauthrien on his arm, and the storm of gossip rose anew. There were some very hard looks cast at Highever, mostly from angry women and disappointed fathers. Cauthrien was very handsome in her finery, and utterly unshaken by the Landsmeet's jealousy and disapproval. As a soldier, she had faced worse than sneers and malicious whispers. Fergus nodded about him, cheerful and undaunted.

Satisfied that this was the proper moment, Maude whispered, "Now! Now's our time!"

Thus, Loghain marched in with Maude, a mabari on either side, seemingly indifferent to the swell of gossip that rose at their appearance. It was a complex mixture: growls and residual hard feelings from the civil war; praise for him for saving the country; rumors of the events at Amaranthine; admiration for the way Maude looked in her elaborate Archdemon armor; pretense of the like about him; talk about the plans for Gwaren; speculation that Maude was pregnant.

The trumpets blared, and out of the rear hall emerged the King and Queen. Loghain sighed to himself. Anora must have been watching and listening for the proper moment, too. It was part of the puppet show of monarchy.

Ferelden's monarchs were wearing the glittering crowns gifted to them by the dwarves of Orzammar. They were just this side of gaudy…no they were totally gaudy, but really very splendid. Alistair was in his golden armor, and Anora in a new golden dress, something like her wedding gown, but cut to display her gravid state to best and most visible advantage.

"They certainly look just as they should," Maude whispered, delighted, bowing along with everyone else. The monarchs took their thrones, and the seneschal bawled out:

"My lords, ladies, and gentlemen! On this first day of Eluviesta, the thirty-second year of the Dragon Age, the thee hundred and ninetieth from the founding of the kingdom, by command of Their Majesties, King Alistair and Queen Anora, I declare this Landsmeet in session!"

It was ancient custom to use the old Tevinter calendar names: to call Cloudreach by its more imposing name of Eluviesta. Fereldans otherwise always used the common names in the King's Tongue. Loghain had always found the Landsmeet custom silly and tiresome.

Alistair stepped forward. He was to give the King's Speech, the oration that set the tone for the Crown's agenda for the year. Anora could have done it better, and had done it, and could do it with her eyes closed, but she had decided that it would be more acceptable to play the role of the demure wife and expectant mother. She had relentlessly coached Alistair, forcing him to memorize the speech, making him practice, over and over. Chantry Boy had a good voice and a handsome face. Loghain was interested to see how well he pulled this off. The lad stepped forward, and then paused and smiled winningly. Loghain stood very straight. Anora never taught him to do that.

"Lord and Ladies of the Landsmeet: my subjects, my guests…" his eyes swept the room, and then alighted on Maude, "my friends. Never in our lifetimes will we have a greater opportunity to make Ferelden strong, self-sufficient, and respected amongst the nations of Thedas. I greet you all, knowing that our concerns are many, but our purpose is one: the good of the kingdom. We approach this purpose from different parts of the country, with different issues, and our ideas clash and meld, creating something that is greater than the sum of its parts."

So far, so good. Anora was pleased, or doing a bloody good job of pretending to be, sitting on her throne as calm as a pregnant, purring cat.

"Life stirs with ever-returning spring, as it has done since the Maker created our world. Life will be renewed in the line of Calenhad Theirin, with the birth of a new prince or princess, which we expect at the end of Justinian!"

A roar of joy from the Landsmeet. Even Loghain found himself smiling. It had been a long, long time since the line of Calenhad had produced a child. And the child had been produced by his daughter, his lovely, clever Anora. For a moment he almost forgave her for wanting to name her son Cormac.

Alistair smiled, more gravely, and put up a hand. "Our land is healing after the agonies of the Blight. While other nations still bear the scars of Blights lasting for decades or centuries, Ferelden is valiantly overcoming its wounds. Fereldan, indeed, defeated its Blight within the space of two years: a feat unequalled in the history of Thedas!"

A cheer, growing in volume. Applause, and all eyes were turned to Loghain. Maude took the opportunity to look up at him adoringly. Loghain wanted to punch her. The Landsmeet was going for it, though: the faithful wife standing by her Hero.

"However swiftly Fereldan rose to meet this danger, it was inevitable that lives should be lost and sacrifices made. High in the reckoning of those sacrifices are those of the Grey Wardens, who give up their homes and titles and lands—often their very lives—to fight the ancient evil of the darkspawn."

Chantry Boy was doing very well: not even making faces at him. Anora had coached him painstakingly, and of course, and underneath it all was the secret belief that they were offering an empty reward.

"Stability is needed, while we rebuild and renew. It is essential that order be reestablished; and for a land to have order, it must have rulers. Several fiefdoms are now bereft of leadership. Establishing clear lines of responsibility and authority must be one of the chief goals of this Landsmeet. From teyrnir to arling to bannorn to freehold, order, firm and fair, must be established."

More applause, and hopeful, toadying expressions turned toward the King and Queen.

"Gwaren is without a teyrn, for Loghain cast aside earthly power when he accepted the duties of a Grey Warden. Who shall replace him? Can he, in fact, be replaced?"

There was some shifting and muttering. Loghain could imagine what some of the Landsmeet might be thinking. If the King, who was a Grey Warden, could be King, why could not Loghain be reconfirmed in his teyrnir? Given the precedent on the dais before them, it was not a ridiculous idea.

But that was not Anora's plan. The handful of nobles already in the know were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And what of Senior Warden Maude Cousland, that daughter of a noble house? She traveled from sea to sea, from the Frostback Mountains to the Brecilian Forest. She won for Ferelden the allies that stood with us when the darkspawn sought to overwhelm us. She stood forth fearlessly, repeating her warnings and her admonitions. She stood beside the Dragonslayer on the day the Archdemon fell. What is to be her reward for all this? A mere, weak 'thank you?' A gold medal, and then a dismissal to the dark of the Deep Roads?"

Loghain looked down at Maude from under his eyelashes. Alistair and Anora had struck their target with that one. Nasty, very nasty. A secret, but extraordinarily low blow. Maude had gone quite still.

"No!" Alistair declared. "A thousand times no! Though Warden cannot hold titles, nothing prevents their children from doing so. Therefore, the Crown of Ferelden proposes that the firstborn child of Wardens Loghain and Maude inherit the teyrnir of Gwaren!"

A brief pause to digest this, and then considerable applause. The proposal was going down well. Maude smiled warmly, and gave the King a little bow. Loghain frowned, but everyone was used to that. The applause grew in volume. There was the brief danger that it might be passed by acclamation as it was, but Fergus Cousland bellowed, "Peace for the King's word!" and the room subsided.

By ostensibly giving away Gwaren from the very first, the Crown had cut the foundation out from under those who were concerned about both Denerim and Gwaren being held by the King and Queen. By granting the teyrnir to the child of the Dragonslayer of Ferelden, those reservations were dealt a mighty blow. Whether it was a deathblow remained to be seen.

"The Kendall family," Alistair continued, "is gone, father and son. There is now no one within four degrees of kinship to claim the Arling of Denerim. We thought long and hard about what should be done about the ancient lands of Calenhad the Great. Denerim is rebuilding and growing. It needs close attention, and a firm hand to command its development. We wish to make of this city of Denerim a jewel the like of which will swell the hearts of all true Fereldens with pride. The line of Theirin has resolved to once again take up its ancient rights, and to exercise direct rule of the city and the arling."

The Crown had made its capital demand. There followed a low, considering rumble, but no catcalls or shouts. No swords were drawn. People were well-disposed to the crown: to the pregnant Queen and the affable King. And the Crown had another advantage: there was a real dearth of noble heirs to claim the vacant titles.

Alistair glanced up at the lofty beamed ceiling, obviously trying to remember the next paragraph. Anora's lips moved, giving him the prompt. Alistair brightened, and went on: "In the coming days, we shall examine each and every fiefdom, one by one. We shall expound our plans for Denerim in greater detail. The wise counsel of the Landsmeet will be instrumental in the perfection of our plans. Let the Maker, our best aid and advisor, unite our hearts in one—our minds in one."

The seneschal knew his cue, and bellowed, "Long life to Their Majesties!"

The cheers died down after awhile. Anora beamed and waved graciously from the throne. Personally, Loghain thought she looked intolerably smug, but perhaps he ought to make allowances for her condition. Everybody else was.

Fergus gave the watchful seneschal a nod. That official called out, "The Teyrn of Highever, Fergus Cousland, is recognized by the Landsmeet!"

The young teyrn walked up to the speaker's gallery, and raised his hand, acknowledging the cheers and good wishes of his adherents.

"Thank you, my friends. Your Majesties, my lords and ladies of the Landsmeet: I know I speak for us all in applauding the King's Speech. How can we contest the need for wise leadership as we recover from the great test of our lifetimes? The Couslands have always stood by the Crown, and so it is today. I come before you with two purposes.

"The first, of course, is to share with you my great happiness in my marriage to my teyrna. Cauthrien stood at my side when the darkspawn swept through the streets of Denerim. She stands at my side now, as I restore Highever to its former glory. Our first child is expected at the end of Harvestmere. Wish us joy, my lords and ladies!"

Quite of bit of cheering and applause, but hardly a universal response. A number of women were counting on their fingers and smiling maliciously. Loghain sneered at them, and applauded Fergus. Luckily, those in favor of the marriage—or more accurately, those not in outright opposition— were clearly in the majority. It did not look as it anyone was going to challenge the marriage publicly on the floor of the Landsmeet.

"Secondly," Fergus continued. "I wish to express my support of the Crown's proposal for Gwaren. A noble reward, and a sound plan for continuity and order. By the end of the Landsmeet, I expect the plan to be perfected in every detail. I will submit my own brief to that effect in tomorrow's session."

Some cheers, many nods, and a low murmur of approbation.

"And what about Denerim?" shouted Bann Loren. "What do you think of that?" Maude scowled. Loghain sensed there was some story here that he had not yet heard.

Fergus smiled suavely. "I am extremely interested in the Crown's plan for Denerim, and I look forward to learning the details."

He left the gallery, intentionally giving the impression that he was generally in favor of the Crown's proposals, only wanting to refine them in various ways. It was a good opening gambit.

And so, the day wore on, with nobles putting forth their grievances or pet projects. Nathaniel Howe was duly proposed for the City of Amaranthine. Others were proposed for this bannorn or that. A number of betrothals were announced, and a few marriages, but none as gossip-worthy as the Teyrn of Highever's.

Bann Loren Dalriadin presented his pretty young wife and toddler son to the Landsmeet, and the marriage was recognized. For a moment Loghain thought Maude was going to challenge it.

He caught at her arm, and bent to whisper, "What is it? I thought your families were friends."

"I thought so, too. Bastard. His wife, Lady Landra, and his son, Daiirren," she snarled, "were staying with us when Highever was sacked. They were both murdered, and Loren never raised a protest. His own son! I knew Lady Landra was unhappy, because she was drank all the time. I'll always wonder if he was in with Howe, or just was happy to get rid of an unsatisfactory wife and a discontented son. He didn't lose any time replacing them!"

Loghain thought about this. He actually had not known that Lady Landra had died until fairly recently, when he had seen Loren with his new wife.

"Loren's an arse, but had no strong ties to Howe as far as I know. It's not the child's fault, at any rate."

Maude scowled, but relaxed. Loghain added, "Anything I should know about you and Dairren?"

She glared at him. "No. Lady Landra wanted me to marry him, and he was very nice, but he was much more attracted to Fergus than to me. He wanted to run off and join the Grey Wardens. Poor sod."

"Ah."

In due course, the seneschal proclaimed that the session was over for the day, and formally invited those in attendance to the King's Feast, which would begin at the first hour after sunset. Loghain kept his face impassive. In a sense, the Landsmeet would continue, the gossip and scheming periodically interrupted by eating, drinking, and dancing.

One was not supposed to wear armor at such a gathering, nor was one supposed to carry a sword: probably because of the long history of drunken nobles ruining festive occasions by trying to kill each other. Loghain dressed in his black and grey doublet, and concealed a particularly fine dagger in his boot. He prayed that Maude would not force him to dance, but in her more manic moods, anything was possible.

Maude had a maid come to help her fuss with her hair, but not as much as Loghain might have expected, and she did not wear her exquisite tiara.

"I don't want to look like a rival queen," she said briefly. "and besides, it's really uncomfortable. I'll wear Mother's hairpins. They'd be handy in a fight."

Nonetheless, she looked quite splendid— in a somber way—in her black and silver. Black was not very much worn in Ferelden, but Loghain wondered if that would change when the guests saw Maude in that gown.

She appeared to be unarmed. Only her friends knew that the black-plumed fan she carried was actually the elaborate sheath of a small but very sharp dagger. Loghain disliked the fan: it looked like an Orlesian affectation to him, but it was a clever way to disguise a weapon, and you never knew when you might need one. The fan swung from her wrist by a thin jeweled chain attached to a bracelet, making the chances of losing or mislaying her blade slim to none. And of course, she had her hairpins, with which she could probably kill an enemy thirty different ways.

The feast was always held in the King's Hall, with trestle tables set up for the occasion. It was smaller than the Landsmeet chamber, but better lit, with huge bronze braziers burning scented oil, the better to cover up the smells rising from a crowd of nobles eating, drinking, dancing vigorously, and eventually, in some cases, vomiting.

Maude, her eyes painted elegantly for battle, glanced around the field, sizing up enemy and ally alike. She gave Loghain's arm a squeeze and whispered. "There's Cousin Leonas. I'm going to talk to him." She billowed away impressively, bearing down on the arl.

Loghain was surprised to see Wulffe here: not only here, but dressed in a rich but sober doublet. He was related to the Kendalls, and had his sons lived, he no doubt would have challenged the Crown for Denerim on behalf of his younger son. They were gone now, killed by the darkspawn, and the Arl was childless. West Hill had no heir but some distant freeholding cousins. Loghain met the man's eyes, and Wulffe snorted.

"What, Loghain? Surprised to see me tricked out like an Orlesian tart's fancy-man?"

Loghain shrugged. "It's not as bad as all that. More like a Marcher lady's fancy-man."

Wulffe barked a bitter laugh. "I'm here to take a leaf from your book, Loghain. Got to find me a fresh new filly to breed West Hill foals on. Rather have my fingernails pulled, but duty's duty."

"If it helps, I can tell you that being married to my 'fresh new filly' is a wonderful thing. We're very happy together: very well-suited."

"Hmmph! You'll excuse me if I don't do my courting with a sword. Not that Maude Cousland isn't a fine girl, but she's one too many for me. If she suits you, that's as it should be. It's done you good. Everyone says so. It's like you've dropped ten years. Pity the Couslands didn't make more daughters. The pickings are slim around here. I may have to go for a freeholder's daughter or one of my knights, like Fergus Cousland."

There was a brief pang at hearing Cauthrien referred to as one of Cousland's knights, but Loghain put it by. "You should choose the woman who pleases you best, with no reference to her birth," Loghain said, absolutely sincere. He had married Celia, a cabinet-maker's daughter, in the teeth of Ferelden's noble ladies, and had never regretted it. Maude had moved on now, and was standing with Fergus and Cauthrien, smiling radiantly. Cauthrien was studiously looking pleasant, but it was rather forced. She was standing exactly as if she was on guard duty. Even in blue and white satin, she looked rather menacing.

"Ha!" Wulffe quaffed down his wine, and shook his head, mildly amused. "You would say that. I don't gainsay you. Look here," he lowered his voice, "what does young Maude say about her cousin Habren, Bryland's daughter? Leonas has been talking to me, but the girl seems a bit of a haughty little madam, to speak plain."

"Maude and Habren have never got on, I'm told, but I think you should get to know Habren and make up your own mind," Loghain said, not wanting to blunder into the middle of someone else's marital arrangement; or put his foot in it criticizing another man's daughter, most especially since Leonas Bryland was something of an ally. Bryland was the best fixed for heirs of all the upper nobility in Fereldan: an attractive, marriageable daughter and two sons, fifteen and twelve. Anyone who knew her gave thanks to the maker than Habren Bryland was not the heiress of South Reach. On the other hand, she had a splendid dowry, and was technically the most eligible woman in Ferelden.

Their Majesties arrived, once again in gold, and they opened the festivities with a slow—a very slow—promenade, circling the room. Lute, hautboy, and drum almost covered the chatter of gossip. Maude's eyes gleamed, and Loghain knew there was no escape. He walked over to her and took her hand. This dance was simply a silly sort of walking, so he could manage it. It was an opportunity to show off one's clothing, and Maude certainly looked her best, sparkling like a lovely, baleful star. Her appearance was as opposed to Anora's as possible, and it made her all the more striking.

Not everyone was dancing. A great many onlookers talked pretty loudly about the sight before them. The dancers ahead and behind them were free with their opinions, too. Everyone had clearly already had too much to drink. Loghain looked straight ahead, and did not allow his expression to change. He held Maude's right hand in his left, while she languidly fanned herself.

"—She swore she'd be an Arlessa by Justinian. Swore it on Andraste's liver."

"—She didn't!"

"—My dear, it's too true! She did, and I heard…"

"—Don't they look handsome together? I mean, aside from her feet, which are simply enormous…"

"—Have you heard about Bann Teagan? His brother has demanded that he marry, and this time Teagan won't find it so easy to wriggle away…"

"—She says she's pregnant! Can you imagine? An old woman like that? It's grotesque!"

"—What difference does it make, if this one turns out like the boy? The magic's on her side of the family, you know…"

"—All the more reason for the Arl to make his brother the heir…"

"—So Maude Cousland's to be a teyrna after all, more or less. I hope her pride will be satisfied now. She set her cap at Loghain years ago, and now she's to have not just the man but his lands as well…"

"—Ssshhhh!"

"—Maker!"

"—So we're to have a prince at last. Is she really pregnant, or is that a cushion?"

Maude rolled her eyes, and tugged a furious Loghain along in the ridiculous silly-walk dance. Luckily, the question was answered to his satisfaction by another gossip.

"—Oh, she's certainly pregnant. Lady Aoife saw her in the bath, and her condition was obvious. And then, too, there will be plenty of us present to witness the birthing. I think we need not fear a Chantry bastard being supplied at the critical moment."

"—This time!"

"—Did you see the new Teyrna of Highever? I mean, really!"

"—Cousland needs an heir. If he's certain she's carrying his child, it might seem the prudent thing to do. Hearty peasant stock, that. She's probably good for a half-dozen more…"

"—At least she's not a foreigner. That's something, I suppose."

Session after session continued, hammering out the minutiae of governing Ferelden. Fergus' marriage was duly recognized. No one actually voted against it, though there were grumbling abstentions.

Nathaniel Howe was confirmed as Bann of the City of Amaranthine. The Landsmeet had always been a conservative body, and no one wanted to eliminate such an ancient family from the councils of Ferelden. No one had managed to connect Nathaniel with any of his father's wrongdoing, though there were many people who had paid good coin to agents to give it a try. No family had been attainted since the Drydens in the reign of King Arland, and considering how their cousins the Kendalls had worked out, no one wanted to cite that precedent, lest someday it be cited against them. Best not to give the Crown ideas. Delilah Howe was working out well as Arlessa of Amaranthine.

Maude and Loghain had a strong block of votes, not just from the banns sworn to Highever or Amaranthine, but from Gwaren as well. Loghain was touched to find he still had a great deal of support there. Many of his old banns quietly approached him for his opinion, and seemed inclined to still follow him. Some indeed, did not see why he could not be Teyrn, since they had a Warden King. Of course Loghain was busy, they understood. He had always been busy, and had spent much of his time in Denerim. That did not mean that he was not their Teyrn. Loghain tried to make clear the muddy issue, explaining that while His Majesty had resigned from active duty in the Wardens, he, Loghain, had been appointed Warden-Commander, and his time would be occupied putting the order on a solid footing in Ferelden. They nodded solemnly, and one or two even had the impudence to wink at him.

The Gwaren plan, in short, was encountering very little resistance, except from a corner where no one had expected any. A committee to finalize the plan, chaired by the King, was meeting in the council room, when everyone was startled by the sudden roadblock in the way of their delightful scheme.

"I don't want to be 'Lord-Protector of Gwaren,'" Teagan stubbornly insisted. "Find someone else. I don't see why Maude can't do it. It's her child. She should be Regent of Gwaren. I think it's insulting not to give the position to her. Loghain has the Wardens to run. I can see that, but I don't see why someone outside their family has to be in charge of the teyrnir."

"It's just until the child grows up," Alistair wheedled. "You made me be king of an entire country!"

"You were the last Theirin, and it's your country," Teagan shot back. "Gwaren is not mine, and I don't want that kind of responsibility. I need to get back to Rainesfere and put things in order there." He looked harassed and unhappy. "It may be that someday I'll have to take hold in Redcliffe. If the Makers wills it, I'll resign myself to it. Redcliffe is the Guerrins' home. I see that I have a duty to it. I don't see any reason to spend years and years managing a teyrnir, when there are plenty of other people who know more about it than I do, and it's not mine anyway."

Eamon took him quietly aside. Loghain could imagine the conversation. They glanced at Maude from time to time, and Eamon was no doubt presenting the scenario of Maude never bearing children. In that case, the teyrnir might indeed become Teagan's. Loghain caught the sly twitch of Eamon's thick lips. Teagan was scowling, shaking his head.

"I don't care," he said, loudly enough to be overheard. "I don't want it." He evaded his brother and walked over to Maude. "Look here, Maude, how do you feel about this? I'm not comfortable with this plan. It treats you like you're some sort of incompetent!"

Maude's eyes flashed in agreement—just for a moment. Then she patted Teagan's arm and smiled encouragingly. "It's very generous of their Majesties to give Gwaren to my child, Teagan. 'l'lI will be busy helping Loghain in the North with the Wardens old fortress, anyway."

Teagan snorted. "What? For a season or two? And what then? The Blight's over anyway. Of course Loghain has to keep the Wardens going, but it shouldn't be that onerous…"

Loghain scowled. People were idiots about the Wardens. It was like they forgot the darkspawn existed when they were not actually in their faces. Maude glanced his way and shot him an amused look.

Oh. Yes. He had once thought exactly that way himself. Chantry Boy was smirking at him.

Fergus, on the other hand, was very pleased with the direction things had taken.

"It's true that Maude would do very well. Yes, you would, Maude. Loghain has a good man as seneschal—what his name?—Allonby? You needn't spend a great deal of time there, but you could oversee it. And Loghain knows all about it. I agree with Teagan that it should be a family matter."

Eamon interposed gravely. "Maude leads a very dangerous life as a Warden. Despite what you think, Teagan, she has serious duties. The Wardens will be recruiting and training. They will no doubt have missions to perform. If she took over the reins in Gwaren, she would need to attend Landsmeets and she would have a vote—an important vote. Maude may even have to travel to Weisshaupt—"

"Do you?" Teagan asked, concerned.

"Not if I can help it," Maude said airily.

"I hardly think Maude having a vote in the Landsmeet counts as a problem," Fergus said testily. "For that matter, considering the size of the Warden's territory, I'm beginning to think the Warden-Commander should have one, too. I know, I know," he put up his hand. "You're all concerned about the possibility of a foreigner holding the position one day. But my friends, how easy! All we have to do is pass a decree stating that only a Fereldan can hold that position!"

"Er…Fergus?" Alistair said uneasily. "I don't think the Wardens would like that…telling them who can and can't be Commander…"

Fergus gave his King a wry smile. "Your Majesty, is the Warden-Commander of Orlais an Orlesian?"

"Well…yes."

"How do you think the Orlesians would react to a Nevarran or a Marcher…or a Fereldan… being put in command of Montsimmard?"

"I see your point, but that's Orlais, and we all know what they're like."

"For that matter," Maude said thoughtfully, "The Warden-Commander in Nevarra is Nevarran, And…well…everywhere but in Ferelden, the Wardens pay due regard to national sentiment. Really, Genevieve was a one-off because there were no Fereldan Wardens. And so they next appointed Duncan, who was Ferelden-born…"

Loghain refrained from snorting at the name 'Duncan.' Chantry Boy worshipped the man's memory, and it was no time to start a row about him. Maude wisely said no more, and let Fergus go on. Loghain kept his face expressionless, but wondered happily what Anora would say when she found out that the result of her scheming was to give both Maude and Loghain a vote in the Landsmeet.

Alistair was looking puzzled. "I thought you didn't want the Wardens getting mixed up in politics, Maude."

"I didn't want to give the Wardens an entire arling, Your Majesty. I didn't want to drive Delilah Howe out of her home. I didn't want the Wardens spending time dealing with urban crime and big trade agreements and squabbles among the lesser nobility. But the Wardens have this sizable territory that nobody else really wanted, and the civilians who live there should have a voice. That's only fair. Otherwise, they'd be the only Fereldans not properly represented." She huffed a reluctant laugh. "I mean the only civilians other than the mages, the Chasind, the elves, and people in remote Frostback villages. Other than those, they'd be the only people unrepresented."

"Oh," Alistair considered. "That makes sense." Teagan frowned in considered agreement.

Eamon's face was a remarkable shade of puce.

Favor for favor. Vote for vote. Deals were made, and alliances forged. Marriage alliances above all. Wulffe, Loghain heard, had escaped the toils of Habren Bryland, only to fall prey to one of her cousins, a pretty blonde widow of thirty with no land or fortune and two small children to provide for. Wulffe did not seem to mind taking on the stepchildren, as it was a solid proof of Arlessa Angharad's fecundity. And also, he freely admitted, he liked the little ones, and it would be cheerful to have them about the castle. The new Arlessa seemed a decent enough woman, and was obviously very happy to have such a comfortable home for her young family.

The announcement at the Landsmeet was greeted with some astonishment, and by Habren Bryland collapsing in a faint.

No one had succeeded in capturing Bann Nathaniel. Word was that his sister had given him six months to find a wife before she found one for him. Arlessa Delilah, despite all her suitors, seemed not very inclined to the marriage state herself.

The Gwaren arrangement was passed through the Landsmeet. Maude was to be Regent of Gwaren, until a child of hers was old enough to assume the duties of Teyrn or Teyrna. The arrangement would continue until her death or Loghain's if they had no issue. The Gwaren vote would be hers, just as the Warden's vote would be Loghain's as Warden-Commander. Loghain knew he needed to write to Weisshaupt about this arrangement. It was a sensible way to ensure that Orlais never got its hands on Soldier's Peak, which was an issue that had somewhat concerned him.

The Crown had its way with Denerim. The Queen stood up to review her plans for a university and national library, to be housed in the old estate of the Arl of Denerim. The gardens were to be open to the public, to adorn the city.

"She won't like it when people start dumping their potato peelings and dead cats there," Maude whispered to Loghain. "They'll have to post guards, or there won't be a flower left. You know Fereldans."

Loghain did. All too well.

Maude wanted Anora to be done, for she was impatiently waiting for Fergus finally to bring up the issue of the Fereldan refugees. Many felt that by deserting their country they deserved everything they got, but both Highever and West Hill needed labor.

"If they want to come home, what's preventing them?" asked Bann Reginalda.

"Quite a few would have spent their last penny for passage to Kirkwall," Bann Sighard pointed out. "They likely can't afford to take ship."

"Then they are fools and vagrants," Reginalda shot back, her eyes hard. "I haven't money to spend on such."

Wulffe shook his head. "I haven't much money at all, but I'll pay their fares if they pledge to work for me a certain amount of time. I'm not talking slavery, but maybe that old thing—indenture—that's what they called it. Three years good service in return for their passage back to Ferelden. I think that's fair."

The proposal attracted some interest. Fergus offered to help pay for a ship to be sent to Kirkwall. The three-year indenture proposal was eagerly taken up. Some nobles offered to go shares at once, including Wulffe. Loghain's lips thinned. Three years might seem a lifetime to those who signed such an indenture. As for it not being slavery—that would entirely depend upon who their master was. He looked about him. He could name quite a few members of the Landsmeet to whom he would rather not be bound.

The last day of the Landsmeet dawned clear. Maude decided to wear her scarlet gown to it.

"I've got heaps more than I expected from this Landsmeet, so I intend to flaunt my satisfaction in sartorial splendor," she told Loghain.

"Just don't wear the tiara," he grunted. "The boots are fine."

He would be glad when it was over. His life had been complicated by events here, but once it was done, he could organize their journey to Soldier's Peak. Maude would have to go to Gwaren some time this summer, and he would probably have to go with her, but the Peak came first. He hardly recognized the passages they strode through, completely lost in thought.

Once in the Landsmeet chamber, it seemed to him that everyone else was ready to go home as well. He had seen this fatigue, year after year. People would go home, think again, and then decide they had been done wrong. They would come to the next Landsmeet fired up to get revenge, and the whole cycle would begin again. People trickled into the Chamber. Maude had been dutiful about standing with Fergus and Cauthrien, but today she murmured to Loghain, "I'm tired. I've really had enough of being the good sister. Let's go over and stand by the other Wardens."

Teagan entered, his face downcast.

"What's wrong with him?" Maude whispered. "He looks like he's lost his last friend!" She tried to catch the handsome bann's eye, He glanced up and realized that people were looking at him. Instantly, he collected himself, and smiled genially at Maude.

"What a fake smile!" Maude hissed in Loghain's ear. "He can't fool me. Something awful has happened to him!"

A last few announcements, and a some final votes. Eamon Guerrin was looking grimly satisfied, at which Loghain felt some foreboding. Eamon being pleased about anything generally was a bad thing for him.

Teagan asked to be recognized, and assuming a decent appearance of pleasure, addressed the Landsmeet.

"My lord and ladies of the Landsmeet. I come to you with joyous news. I have secured the favor and hand of Ferelden's noblest maiden. Lady Habren Bryland and I are to be married in Denerim Cathedral on the first day of Solace. I hope all here will be present to witness the day that makes me the happiest of men!"

There was applause. Eamon joined Teagan, and Arl Bryland, with Habren, came to stand with him as well.

Maude automatically applauded politely, her eyes glazed.

"Poor fellow! I see it all now! That's how Eamon gets back at him for disappointing him about Gwaren! Doesn't Habren look pleased!"

Loghain thought Lady Habren was looking better than he had ever seen her. The usual peevishness was gone. Her eyes were bright, she was smiling triumphantly, and she was standing as close as possible to her handsome prospective bridegroom. Her faint resemblance to Maude was quite noticeable today. She was bedecked with possibly every jewel she possessed, and wore a remarkable gown of purple velvet and yellow satin that made his eyes water a bit.

"I should have foreseen this," Loghain whispered to Maude. "Eamon's after Bryland as an ally to counterbalance Gwaren in the south."

"And he's after Habren's fat dowry, too. Redcliffe needs money. I wondered what he threatened Teagan with? Isolde doesn't look happy." She made herself smile, looking about her. "It's a clever time for the wedding, too. Heaps of people will be in Denerim for the birth of the heir, and the roads should be in good condition. Come on, we have to tender our congratulations."

There was never a feast to celebrate the end of a Landsmeet. People were sick of everyone else, and as soon as the seneschal pronounced the Landsmeet at an end, there was a collective rush for the doors, accompanied by the last dregs of gossip. Some were cheerful; some bitter; some amused or horrified by the events they had witnessed.

"—Habren thinks that Teagan will be the next Arl of Redcliffe. She'd never have him otherwise..."

"—And what does the Arlessa think of all this? She can't be pleased. I heard—"

"—Poor old Teagan. Caught like a fly in a web. It happens to the best of us, I suppose…"

"—I think she's pretty, don't you? Not exceptionally pretty, but "pretty enough," as they say…"

"—I hope Teagan puts a stop to what she does to those poor puppies. He won't turn a blind eye like her father, surely…"

Loghain overheard that last, and turned to Maude. She made a face, and whispered, "I hate Habren."

"—I'd say the Crown was the big winner this year. Got their hands on Denerim, and figured out a way to give Loghain two votes in the Landsmeet.."

"—True. Putting his wife in charge of Gwaren is a clever legal fiction…"

"Excuse me," Maude said, "but I have to go kill those men."

"Maude," Loghain clutched her shoulder. "Remember? You're not so supposed to be killing people. Healer's orders."

"No, I'm not supposed to be killing people in strenuous ways. It'd be no trouble at all just to—"

"No."

"You're no fun anymore."

Before she could indulge in a full-blown sulk, they were intercepted by a page, who relayed an invitation to sup with the King and Queen in the Family Dining Room.

"How delightful!" Maude gushed. "I absolutely cannot wait!"

Loghain sympathized. He would rather not dine with the King and Queen tonight himself, but so it must be.

And at least they did not have to dine alone with them. Fergus and Cauthrien were there as well. Fergus was in quite a good mood, having got everything from the Landsmeet he wanted. He was happy to be going home with his pregnant wife, and happy that he had done something significant for his sister.

Cauthrien was quiet, but watching everyone very carefully. She seemed…happy…too. Yes, happy. Deeply content. And perhaps…glad to be leaving tomorrow.

Anora was dealing well with Cauthrien's ascension to the nobility. Cauthrien had always been around since they were young girls together, and it must seem normal to Anora that Cauthrien would continue to be a part of her life, though always in a subordinate position, of course.

Loghain knew that his daughter was not entirely pleased with the results of the Landsmeet. Her main point had been gained, of course. Denerim was hers, and she could make of it what will, wit, and coin made possible. She had always gone on about a university, so now she could call in her scholars to make one, however one went about making such a thing. Loghain was not sure what actual value such an institution had, but other queens had them, so Anora wanted one too.

She was not so happy that Maude had been given—however conditionally—control of Gwaren and its vassal banns. Things had not gone as she planned there, but perhaps she felt she still had only to wait five years or so before she could make her move. Her plan with Teagan had gone awry, and that must vex her.

Alistair said, "I thought Teagan was a confirmed bachelor. I guess he wanted to make the most dramatic announcement he possible could. Lady Habren is your cousin, Maude. I remember her from your wedding. She's quite pretty. I hope she and Teagan are happy together."

There were polite murmurs of assent around the table. Anora allowed, "It is a very distinguished marriage for him." Her cool tone of voice told Loghain that she was not pleased at the idea of Habren's dowry in the hands of the Guerrins, nor with Eamon for arranging the match. Teagan having temporary control of Gwaren was one thing: Eamon building a southern alliance with the Brylands was quite another.

Loghain was glad that she had someone other than himself to be annoyed with, since it was obvious that she was not happy at all about Soldier's Peak being granted a vote in the Landsmeet. Naturally, Chantry Boy had to mention the place.

"So when are you going to Soldier's Peak, Maude," Alistair asked, "and when can we visit?"

"We're leaving in four days, with our huge train of wagons and workmen. As to when Soldier's Peak can support a royal visit…hmm….I suppose it depends on whether you expect a bed or not. If so, I would guess sometime after Funalis."

"The King," Anora said coolly, "is not going anywhere until after our child is born. And not very soon after that."

Alistair shrugged, but was obviously pleased that his presence was demanded by his wife.

Totally whipped, Loghain thought contemptuously. "Of course," he said aloud, "it would be so much the better if the royal visit were paid by the entire royal family."

"Yes," Maude agreed. "We can build a suitable royal suite easily enough, since we're gutting the place from top to bottom. Do come. It's really a remarkable place, and we'll see that you have a lovely view of the mountains."

Anora relented slightly. "Well, perhaps. We shall see. Soldier's Peak is of considerable historical interest."

"And it could be part of a Northern royal progress through Ferelden," Fergus suggested, liking the idea. "We haven't had one in over five years. You could visit Amaranthine, Highever, West Hill… Soldier's Peak could be just one of the places you see."

"What a lovely idea!" Maude agreed. "And all your subjects will want to see you and Princess Rhoswyn."

"Or Prince Cormac!" Alistair challenged her, laughing.

"It's going to be Princess Rhoswyn," Maude insisted. "I have a feeling about it."

They escaped the Family Dining Room at last. Loghain looked forward to escaping Denerim altogether.

"Four more days," he muttered.

"Yes!" Maude said, nearly skipping at his side. "Back to Soldier's Peak. It's going to be such fun."

The Wardens' Compound was quiet, but Cashel had waited up for him.

"You didn't need to," Loghain told him. "I am quite capable of putting myself to bed."

"That's as may be, my lord," said the valet, "but I wanted you to know that some letters came today. Two had very impressive seals."

That was different. Loghain dismissed the servant, and then said, "Go on to bed, Maude. I'll just have a look at the correspondence."

For a moment he thought she would argue with him, and then she shrugged. "Later, then. Don't be long."

The first impressive seal was from Weisshaupt. The other was the seal of the King of Orzammar. Of the other letters, one from obviously from Leliana in Jader, and the others were communications from various craftsmen.

Duty was duty, so Loghain broke the seal of the First Warden.

It was a very interesting letter, informing him of the existence of a being called the Architect, who was a darkspawn, but of extraordinary intelligence and magical power. Loghain was warned against making deals with this being, as past experience had shown the creature to be unreliable, and to have an agenda that could "very likely destroy all life as we know it." In fact, if the Architect made an appearance in Ferelden, Loghain was not to attempt to confront this dangerous being, but to notify Weisshaupt at once, and Wardens with appropriate expertise would be sent to deal with it.

Loghain snorted a laugh. Of course they had not yet received his report about the slaying of the Architect and the events in Amaranthine. Probably the letter would not arrive for another two months. The First Warden, unsurprisingly, was as useless as ever. He would show Maude the letter so they could have a laugh over it. He broke the seal of the message from Orzammar.

The King of Orzammar sent his compliments to the Dragonslayer and his Wardens. The King of Orzammar had received word that the Grey Wardens had located Kal'Hirol. The King of Orzammar commended the Wardens for their intrepidity, and would like a report as to the situation there. While little of material worth remained in the thaig, the Shaper of Memories had informed the King that there was important dwarven lore there—important historical, genealogical information—which, while of no value to other races, was of great sentimental value to the people of Orzammar.

Loghain's smile broadened. Maude had better hurry, if she wanted to clean out the treasury before the dwarves got to it. Ignoring the rest of the correspondence, he snatched up the two letters, and strode across the hall to their bedchamber.

It was dark: lit only by the fire and two candles, and Loghain was confronted by a young woman with a riding crop, wearing only a pair of red velvet boots.

"So, Grey Warden, we meet at last." Maude slapped the crop against her palm menacingly. "We have ways of making you talk. Remove your clothing at once!"

"All right."

"And stop smiling!"

Thanks to my reviewers: Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, callalili, cloud1004, sizuka2, Judy, Spoit0, Josie Lange, Aoi24, Shakespira, Phygmalion, Zute, Samara-Draven, JackOfBladesX, mutive, Enaid Aderyn, Jyggilag, tree1138, sapphiretoes, Jenna53, Angurvddel, mille libri, Tyanilth, Gene Dark, Lehni, fangirl42, and Isala Uthenera. I am so grateful for your support.

Ferelden became a kingdom under Calenhad Theirin in Exalted 5:42.