Chapter 31
"Mercy wields the broken sword, and separates true kings from tyrants."
—Spirit of Archon Hessarian
Alistair
Alistair wasn't even halfway down the hall before he could hear uproarious laughter coming from what he'd taken a long time ago to calling Anora's solar. The giggles and squeals were ones Alistair had become very familiar with as his sons grew, and it was no less infectious now than when they'd first begun to laugh. Even the guards stationed at intervals along the corridor were fighting smiles. Some didn't bother fighting them at all, grins on their faces as they held watch. Alistair didn't care. The guards could be amused all they wanted, so long as they could still do their jobs, and he had every confidence that they could.
"It's a game," Anora said as he approached. Adalla stood by her side, and Anora absently scratched behind the mabari's ears. "They wanted me to see. Then I wanted you to see."
In the years he'd spent married to Anora, Alistair had learned a great many things about her. She kept her hair in tight braids because she did not like it unruly. She had a well-hidden fondness for Nevarran adventure novels. When she ate, she saved her favorite dish for last. And though she could sound perfectly calm when she was panicked, she had a tell—she would press the thumb and forefinger of her right hand tightly together.
As she'd spoken to him, she'd removed her fingers from Adalla's fur, and now she was pressing them together.
Thoroughly puzzled, Alistair poked his head into the solar. Nuala sat in an overstuffed chair in one corner of the room, watching the boys play. And play they did, barreling from one side of the room to the other, keeping some sort of score no adult could rightly reckon, as they tried to influence a wisp toward opposite walls.
"I wonder what the score is," he said in a dazed whisper.
Nuala caught the comment with her sharp elven hearing. "That's the safest question to ask, isn't it?"
Anora took Alistair's hand in hers, and Alistair couldn't be sure which one of them was doing the trembling. Probably both. They were monarchs of a sovereign nation, and yet they trembled in fear like any other parent of a mage child. They trembled in fear because the Chantry now held the power to take away their child.
Children. Maker.
"I'm winning!" said Dane.
"No," said Callum as he jumped in front of the wisp and somehow sent it pummeling in the other direction, "I am!"
Alistair didn't dare look at Anora.
"Our sons are mages," she said still, as quietly as she'd spoken to him before he'd looked in the room.
Their eldest child was a mage. Their youngest child was a mage.
Watching his two sons innocently playing, happy and boisterous and cheeks flushed from all the running—enough running that in the back of his mind he made a note that they'd be sleeping well tonight—it was hard to see any evil in magic. Here they were, supervised and playing and there wasn't an abomination to be found, much less havoc and death and destruction.
The problem wasn't magic. The problem was that they had magic.
Now he understood. After all these years, he could understand what Isolde had done, even if he could not condone it. Now he understood why Malcolm and Líadan had resorted to such desperate, painful measures to keep Ava out of the Circle. He'd thought he'd understood before, he really had. But it hadn't been an overwhelming, instinctual, immediate certainty that that he would do anything to keep his boys from being sent to the Circle and left to the mercy of the Chantry. He hadn't wanted his niece to go to the Circle either, and though he'd hated watching Líadan leave with Ava and Cáel, he couldn't help but prefer that solution—training with the Dalish, because it wasn't the Circle. And now he understood why his brother and sister-in-law had been willing to do absolutely anything to keep their child from Chantry custody.
From across the room, Nuala noticed the chance in his expression. "Now you get it," she said.
He slowly nodded, the haze of disbelief still strong. "Now I get it."
"They will not go to the Circle," said Anora, her voice as firm as the certainty Alistair felt.
"No, they won't."
"We may have to recall Cauthrien to Denerim to determine the status of the army."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you hadn't already."
"I wanted to be certain we were in agreement. Even so, we must determine the best method of approaching this. A hasty, frantic message sent to Gwaren would alert those watching that something is amiss."
She meant spies. When Baltasar had once briefed Alistair about the number of spies within Ferelden, Alistair had been astonished. Then he'd been grateful for the lengths their advisors had gone to keep them and their country safe from their machinations. "Oh," he said out loud, "we're very much in complete agreement."
Their sons had yet to stop playing their game. The rules seemed to have changed, and now Dane and Callum were trying to direct the wisp into an overturned vase resting on a side table. The flowers it'd held appeared to be the only casualty, scattered below the table as they were, along with a great amount of dirt. As Alistair watched, the templar in him noted the control both boys exhibited; it was very good, and it needed to be kept that way, especially with Callum being so sodding young.
"They'll need a teacher," he said.
"Keeper Perran did a fine job with Ava," said Anora.
"Then we'll have to ask him, won't we? Good thing I've got an in with the Grey Wardens." Thinking of the Wardens made him think of his brother, who wouldn't be happy at all about the news, mostly because it put Cáel in direct line for the throne. But Cáel was all they had left, at this point. "I hope Cáel keeps not being a mage." He slid a look toward Anora. "Unless you wanted to have—"
Anora shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together. "No, not if… I believe it would end in the same, given the precedent set."
He let out a rueful chuckle. "And you hated being pregnant. Don't think I haven't forgotten, even though you very carefully did not mention it just now."
"I did not want an only child, if it were possible, and I did not want more than two. Aside from the magic, it seemed the best compromise." She stopped and watched as Callum gave up on the game and crashed onto a sofa, looking dangerously close to falling asleep. Dane didn't look much better, and the wisp dissipated, returning to the Fade. Then Anora said, "Your brother will not be happy."
"No, he won't. He'll be the shouty then sullen kind of 'not happy,' I imagine. Cáel won't be thrilled, either." And Alistair didn't even want to contemplate how Líadan or, Maker forbid, Morrigan, would feel about it. At least with Morrigan, they had the luck that Morrigan had most likely seen it coming, since she'd predicted that Cáel wouldn't have magic. And though many people thought nothing of Keeper Lanaya's predictions, she'd foretold that Cáel would end up king. But with Alistair and Anora having managed to have two heirs, they'd just sort of… forgotten about it.
Definitely hard to forget about it now.
Anora relaxed her hands, and then scratched between Adalla's ears. "We shall have to call a Landsmeet to convene as quickly as possible. While I don't believe our nobility will have any objections to separation from the main branch of the Chantry over this and many other things, it would not do to not ask before we take our final steps."
"That sounds very… final."
"Without the backing of the Landsmeet, we would try, but we wouldn't have the martial strength to succeed. Either way, the outcome would be final."
"Right, so…" He glanced into the room again, where both Dane and Callum had fallen asleep on the sofa. "How about we get these two into proper beds, and then I'll go have a chat with Hildur and Keeper Perran?" He didn't need to explain that while he was willing to discuss the more serious matters, he needed a break before doing so. His optimism had to be maintained, somehow.
She met his look and nodded, then they both entered the room.
After the boys were in bed, Anora elected to stay in their shared playroom, while Alistair headed to the Warden compound. After exchanging a look with Anora, Nuala stood and accompanied Alistair to the compound. Her only explanation was, "I need to speak with my cousin."
For the first half of the walk, they were quiet. But the quiet began to grate on Alistair, along with his rapidly escalating guilt. "So," he said without looking over, "I don't know about you, but I feel like a wart on a toad. Here we are, considering what we refused to before, while Malcolm's family had to leave because we wouldn't consider it."
It took more than a few steps for Nuala to give voice to her own opinion. "While I don't feel guilty, I do feel bad. And I do believe it was the addition of your own children to your niece that forced your choice, not solely your children." She sighed. "I was hoping to join Líadan and the children soon, but I haven't heard anything. Once she reached the Mahariel, she was going to send me a message telling me how to find them and when. I haven't heard from her. The wait's been killing me."
"Dane and Callum might need you, too."
She gave him a half-smile. "Your boys have other nurses, they still have both parents, and they're still living at home. Malcolm and Líadan's children, however, don't have any of those things. I love your boys, I do, but Cáel and Ava need me more."
He knew Nuala was right. It pained him whenever he thought about his niece and nephew, with them having had to leave everything they knew in the dead of night to keep Ava safe. It pained him when he thought about his sister-in-law having to leave his brother, with neither of them knowing when they'd reunite. And if Dane and Callum had shown their magic just a little sooner, then no one would've had to be separated, because now Alistair's larger family had nothing to lose, at this point, and everything to gain. "I think we should bring them back," he said out loud.
"So do I. But that means finding them, which means telling Kennard to search in truth, and getting Malcolm home from the trip the Wardens sent him on."
"Well, that one's easy. We can just ask Hildur to have him sent back."
Except it turned out not to be so easy.
"I would if I could," Hildur said as she and Alistair sat in the compound's library. "But he's stuck for the duration. The work at Adamant could take quite a while, and they won't be able to send a message until they're back in Val Royeaux. Once I get word though, I'll ask for him back. I'm sure by that time he'll skip all the way home rather than stay in Orlais." Hildur's brow furrowed as she considered the table in front of her, and then looked at Alistair again. "But that isn't why you're here, is it?"
"No. I wanted your permission to request something of Warden-Keeper Perran."
Her eyebrow shot right up, and then settled as she realized. "Your eldest is a mage?"
"Both, actually. Both of them."
Hildur gave a low whistle. "That really screws up your line of succession."
"Does it? I hadn't realized." He ignored her half-annoyed look. "I suppose I should be happy that we've got Cáel still free from that curse, or we could end up with blood on the streets like in Orzammar."
She laughed and sat back. "You surfacers couldn't hope to even come close to the bloodbath of Orzammar politics, not in your worst nightmares, or wildest dreams, depending on the person." She steepled her fingers. "I take it you'd like Perran to help teach them before you send them to the Circle?"
He couldn't help the slight jerk of his body as it tightened right up at possibility having been mentioned out loud. Before he could affirm or deny it, Hildur figured out the truth. "You aren't sending them at all, are you?"
"No, we aren't. We just couldn't… no."
"This'll be a quandary. Bloody one, too. More than I first thought."
"Like Orzammar?"
She laughed again. "Keep trying, surfacer. You've got a lot of ground to cover if you want to catch up to my nephew. Perran's in the main hall if you want to talk to him. I'll see what I can do to get Malcolm back sooner. I suspect he'll want to go find his family and bring them home as soon as he can."
"Do you think you'll have any luck?"
"No, but I'd be shit commander if I didn't try. And the day I let myself be a shit commander is…" Hildur pretended to think for a moment as she stood up. "Probably the day I take my Calling. Come on. You go chat with Perran. I've got letters to write."
Convincing Perran to teach the young princes took practically not convincing at all, to Alistair's surprise. As the days passed, various members of the bannorn arrived in the city, and rumors burned through the markets. Surprisingly, none of the rumors mentioned anything about Dane and Callum, and instead consisted mostly of conjectures on Líadan's whereabouts, if she'd been found, what would be done, and when and if Malcolm would return from his mission for the Wardens. The palace staff had done an incredible jobs in keeping the rumors about the princes to almost nil—a lot of that particular success was courtesy of Bann Shianni. Despite the advances made for city elves in Ferelden, the majority of noble households, including the royal family's, still comprised of elves. What had changed in most noble households, however, was that the staff now tended to be headed by an elf instead of a human, and wages had trended toward fair or better. In the end, it still meant the bann of the Elven Quarter wielded a far larger influence than a casual observer might suspect. Once the elven staff were united on a front, their human coworkers went along. This time, it meant the knowledge of Dane and Callum's magic was kept amongst themselves until after Alistair and Anora revealed it at the Landsmeet.
The fortnight it took to gather Ferelden's nobility in Denerim was a test of the royal staff's loyalty, and of Alistair's ability to stand the anxiety that they might not be as loyal as he'd once thought. Since templars never appeared at the Palace's doors, and because Grand Cleric Philippa did not pay them a single visit, Alistair assumed the staff's loyalty held. But he would be lying if he said he wouldn't be relieved once the Landsmeet was over.
Dane and Callum turned out to be fine students, as Perran told Alistair two days before the Landsmeet. "Somewhat rambunctious, the two of them," said Perran as he, Alistair, Anora, and Nuala watched the two boys playing the same game as they had a couple weeks before. Only this time, they were outside, and a few of the Warden mages had joined in. Since the game relied far more on strength of magic rather than size, the playing field was rather level, even between fully grown Wardens and little boys.
A few more Wardens had joined them outside to watch the game, some intent on placing bets—Oghren—and others curious about using magic for something other than the dichotomy of creation or destruction. Sigrun was one of the latter, even as she placed a bet with Oghren.
Alistair noted with some pride that Sigrun did not bet against his sons.
"Callum's quite young to manifest," Perran continued. "In Dalish memories recorded by the Keepers, the youngest recorded was five years of age."
"I know." Alistair sighed. "He'll be five next month, so there's that. Even then, he's close to the youngest human I personally know."
Perran drummed his long fingers on the wooden rail in front of him. "I'm not sure if the same trend has appeared among the human population, but among the People, the number of children manifesting the Gift has risen triple-fold. We haven't seen this many mages since the Dales. While wonderful, it is also puzzling—almost troublingly so."
"I think First Enchanter Irving mentioned something like that," said Alistair. "That if so many mages hadn't died during the Blight, Kinloch Hold would be full to bursting by now."
"I wonder what it means," said Anora.
Alistair could practically hear her mind turning the concept over. He'd put several sovereigns on Anora spending even more time than usual in the library over the coming weeks. She'd want to hunt down possible explanations, and would not let it go until she had them. When her mind latched on to something, she had the tenacity of her mabari, and the stubbornness to go along with it.
But when Anora spoke again, it wasn't about the rise in the mage population. "How long are Dalish mages students?" she asked Perran. "I know Circle mages are said to graduate, earning the title of Enchanter after they pass their Harrowing."
"The Dalish do not have such a thing." Perran was snapping out the reply scarcely before Anora could finish her sentence.
"I know." Anora did not appear the least bit ruffled at Perran's rare show of temper. Given how often Anora weathered her Dalish sister-in-law's common fits of temper, it was no surprise that Perran's slight outburst had no effect on her. "Líadan made it very clear on many occasions, especially on the day before she left, that the Dalish do not believe in Harrowings."
"Such a concept is foreign to the People," Perran said, back to his amiable self, sounding much more like the teaching Keeper he usually was. "It's hard to comprehend that the human Circle would carry out such an atrocity on a regular basis."
"I am quite aware of that belief," said Anora. "The Harrowing is one reason among many that give cause to our refusal to send our sons to the Circle. Teaching is necessary, but testing need not be so ruthless."
"Barbaric, I would say," said Nuala.
"I wonder where you got that from," said Alistair.
"I don't," Sigrun said from nearby. "And I think she should come back."
"You could come with me when I go," said Nuala.
Sigrun nodded, as if she were truly considering it. "Maybe I might."
Alistair really just wanted his family to come home. All of them.
"What I was inquiring about," Anora said, her tone just hard enough to let Alistair know she was slightly annoyed at the tangent, "was how Dalish mages graduate, if I am to use a term, as Circle mages do, without an event marking the occasion, such as a Harrowing."
"We don't," said Perran. "We are always students, even as Firsts and Keepers, for one cannot truly ever master magic. To believe you have leads to arrogance, mistakes, and often possession. Better to remain a student and wary of its power, even as you wield it, rather than declare oneself a master and become a victim of its power."
"Sounds smart," said Bethany as she came up behind them. "And sounds a lot like things my father used to say. He also used to say very good things about the Dalish mages he'd come across."
"We've still our own supply of short-sighted mages who get people killed," said Perran. "But thank you."
"Have you heard from your sister at all?" Anora asked Bethany.
"The last message I received was from right before they were leaving Starkhaven for Kirkwall. From what I could gather, Goran's handing over the principality as soon as her Marian Sebastian's affairs can be arranged in Kirkwall."
Alistair held back a comment or three about it being bloodless and voicing his own jealousy about the lack of blood, given what he went through to gain his throne. But some of the blood spilled had been his wife's father's, and her residual pain over the matter, along with the pain of losing her father, overrode his need to make a joke. Still, he was a somewhat jealous.
"Good," Anora said with a nod. "Now if only Kirkwall could attain the same stability."
Bethany snorted. "That'll be the day. Mother says they still haven't chosen a Viscount. At this rate, they won't have one until the next age. Marian says they can't get out soon enough, but Mother is dragging her feet." When Alistair raised an eyebrow at her for an explanation, she shrugged. "It's her home. She was born there, her family is from there, her brother is there. Uncle Gamlen is Gamlen, but he's still her brother."
"I hear brothers are like that," said Alistair. Dryly as he said it, he actually missed his. While he knew sending Malcolm out on a trip for the Wardens was the best they could do for him at the time, he keenly missed his presence now. Sure, his brother would be gloating that he'd been right and Alistair had been wrong, but having his brother at his side during what would come was something he wanted. Needed, really, if he were to be honest. The last thing they'd faced anything of this magnitude had been the Landsmeet near the end of the Blight. And now Alistair would be facing something almost as daunting, and without his brother's presence.
And what really bothered him was that his brother and his brother's family shouldn't have been gone in the first place. He missed them, and he knew Anora and their boys missed them, and when Dane and Callum had stopped asking where their aunt and cousins were had hurt even more than the questions themselves.
Alistair did his best to put it from his mind, because he needed to be clear-headed if he was going to handle the Landsmeet well.
Circumstances managed to muddy up his mind by nightfall.
As soon as Arl Teagan arrived in Denerim, he sent word to Alistair that he urgently needed to meet with the King and Queen in the morning.
Urgently was never good, in Alistair's experience, and Anora didn't seem convinced the meeting would bring good news, either. She did appear more composed while they ate breakfast before the meeting, but that was normal. While he'd gotten better at keeping his feelings off his sleeve over the years, Anora had a mastery he'd never approach.
"Before our meeting with Teagan," Anora said as she finished with her meal, "I feel I should inform you of what Baltasar's agents happened upon last night."
Fantastic. Urgency and dread. "What did they see?"
"Last night, Arl Teagan had barely settled into his Denerim estate before he visited a certain brewery."
Alistair narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure where you're going with this. Are you trying to tell me he's become a drunk? That would be a surprise."
"No, of course not. What I'm trying to tell you is that Teagan is seeing the woman who owns said brewery."
Holding in a laugh, Alistair sat back in his chair, the dread having entirely drained away. "Anora, I'm surprised you don't know this, but… Teagan sees a lot of women." He saw enough that Alistair had long ago lost count, and he and every member of the bannorn had equally as long ago assumed that Teagan would never marry.
Anora flicked him a veiled look of irritation that he would insinuate that she not know something, but the irritation dissipated soon enough. "I am aware. However, he has been seeing only this one woman for months. It's unprecedented and it would be a relief if this meant he was finally settling down. While he is here, I wish to get the truth from him."
"I don't see why there's anything to worry about with him being married or not. He's got Rowan as an heir."
She lifted an eyebrow. "No worry that the magic from Isolde's line will manifest in Rowan as it did in Connor? I did not concern myself about it overmuch before, but after both of our own—"
"All right, I see it now. We'll gang up on him, you and me. You never know, it could be fun."
Though it would have been nice if Teagan had mentioned before he walked into the solar that he was bringing Connor along. The lack of warning left Alistair scrambling not to gape, and scrambling to not make the situation more awkward than it was. Over the years, Alistair had been given reports about how Connor was doing in the Circle, but he'd never actually laid eyes on the boy since they'd killed the demon bound to him during the Blight.
All right, Morrigan had killed the demon, but she wasn't here to get credit for it, was she? No. And it had been a team effort. Mostly.
Connor really wasn't a boy any longer. He had the lankiness of youth, but he was an inch taller than Teagan, and his voice had gained the timbre of adulthood instead of the piping nature of a child's. While his eyes were serious, which wasn't unexpected given his peculiar history, they weren't somber either, which spoke of a healthy balance in the young man's mind.
Still awkward.
Anora inclined her head toward Teagan. "Teagan. You look well." Once Teagan inclined his head in reply, Anora turned her attention to Connor. "How good to see you again. I have been told you've become a full Enchanter?"
Connor kept his composure and returned the Queen's smile. "Yes, Your Majesty. I passed my Harrowing just before I went to visit Uncle Teagan. They're allowing me to stay at Redcliffe until I decide what I'm going to do. I've been offered the chance to go to Tevinter to study the Fade, but part of me is reluctant, with it being Tevinter."
"I can see why," said Alistair. "Tevinter's got the finest magical minds on Thedas, but they aren't exactly known for their vast amounts of morality, what with the legal slavery and the all but confirmed rumors of the rampant use of blood magic."
"Please, sit down," Anora said to both of their guests.
"I'm honestly not sure which one bothers me more," said Connor. "They both really get to me, but outside of Tevinter's experts on the Fade, there's no way to much further my education about it."
Alistair wondered if Feynriel had learned enough from Emrys to be named an expert. Considering Dreamers had to learn to navigate the Fade deftly and quickly or die, he probably was. If Malcolm could bring his family back into Ferelden now, as it was surely looking like given what talk had been going around Denerim, Malcolm and Líadan would probably try to get Feynriel to teach Ava. Perhaps Ava's education could be supplemented by visits to Emrys, maybe during the summers. And if Feynriel agreed to be her primary instructor, Connor could probably learn from him, too.
"How long is the offer in Tevinter going to be open?" Alistair asked.
Connor frowned in thought. "I'm not sure. Quite a while, I believe. Maybe indefinitely. The Magisterium is always searching for potential Fade scholars. Knight-Commander Greagoir thinks it's because they're wanting to pull in more powerful magisters, but I really have no desire to become one. Slavery and blood magic really aren't things I'm terribly interested in." His frown grew deeper. "That sounded wrong."
"Oh, no, I think it sounded quite good," said Teagan.
Alistair nodded. "I might know a way for you to get the same sort of education—possibly an even better one—but it'll take me a bit find out. So, if you're good with sitting tight, you might not have to pass up your studies after all."
Connor's resulting grin lit up his eyes. "That would be wonderful, Your Majesty. I've rather liked being home, especially with it not so…" He waved his hand around. "You know. Not like that."
"I think you've more than earned your time there, provided Teagan has no complaints."
"None at all." Teagan straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. "We should get to why I needed to meet with you, Your Majesties."
"Only if you drop the titles while it's just us in here," said Alistair. "I realize you want to set a good example for Connor, but he's smart enough to know the difference."
"Why did you call this meeting, Teagan?" asked Anora.
Teagan took a breath and studied his feet for a long moment before looking up again. "I wanted to warn you. You may have to begin searching for another line to take on Redcliffe after me."
It was Alistair's turn to straighten. "What?" He couldn't keep the alarm out of his tone, but he was able to ignore the subtle, gloating look Anora sent his way. Honestly. Even though he was the only one on Thedas who could come close to recognizing the look, it was unbecoming a queen to send one. This went especially so for a queen of Anora's supposedly reserved nature. But, little did anyone else know that Anora had mortal human failings like ticklish spots, which he would thoroughly exploit later.
"I suspect Rowan is a mage," said Teagan, sounding as somber as he'd been when he'd learned of his elder brother's death. "More than suspect, really."
Connor sighed. "I'm fairly certain, Uncle. I brought it up because—"
"I know. You do not wish what happened to you to happen to your sister."
"To anyone, really." It was the first time Connor had sounded timid in their meeting.
Alistair really had no idea what to say to that since he'd never once expected Connor to ever, ever bring up what happened. So, he went for humor unrelated to it because he didn't want to deal with the discomfort, and because it afforded him the opportunity to help out with Anora's request from earlier. "You could just get married, Teagan. Have a child of your own and solve that not so little problem. It isn't like you're that old. Eamon was older when—"
"Please don't talk about that, Your Majesty," said Connor. "Please. I don't want to think—sod. I'm already thinking it." He groaned and scrubbed at his eyes, as if he could rid himself of the vision that way.
Alistair did a poor job of hiding a laugh, and he could feel another one of Anora's looks focused on him.
"I haven't found the right woman," said Teagan.
"There are plenty of eligible ladies," said Anora. "Not a single one suits you?"
He gave her a sheepish grin. "I rather like the idea of remaining a confirmed bachelor. With Rowan around, I hadn't believed I needed to give marriage serious thought."
"Feel free to start giving it some." Alistair settled back in his chair again, the awkwardness having passed. "Besides, I thought you were seeing someone?" He decided he'd worked that one in so smoothly that Anora would have to take one of her dirty looks back.
"Am I?" asked Teagan.
"Are you, Uncle?" asked Connor.
Alistair was really starting to like him. Clever young man who caught on to plots quickly, and seemed have a good sense of humor. The years at the Circle seemed to have served him surprisingly well. What had happened to him at Redcliffe during the Blight was clearly something he still carried, but that would be a lifetime of carrying for anyone.
Teagan quite carefully did not meet his nephew's eyes. "Not officially."
Alistair rolled his eyes. "Well, if it's heading that way, just make it official and get to getting heirs. And if your prospective wife is agreeable to it, have a lot of them. There can never be enough."
He'd looked to be readying an amused reply, but Teagan visibly stopped his original reply once Alistair got to the last part of his statement. "Is something the matter, Alistair?"
Next to Alistair, Anora smoothed out her dress over her legs as she exhaled slightly. "Both Dane and Callum are mages," she said, her pronouncement far from a strong one. It held a thread of weakness to it, courage not quite yet having subjugated the fear she held for her sons' futures.
Teagan's mouth opened and closed slightly as he sought for the proper thing to say.
Connor, however, didn't hesitate. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, Your Majesties. I truly am. Will they be… are you going to send them to the Circle?"
"It's a matter under discussion," Anora replied, not unkindly.
"But they have a teacher, in the meantime, right?" The shadow of the poor attempt Isolde had made to bring in a teacher for her son crept into Connor's eyes.
"Of course," said Alistair. "While we may be questioning whether or not to send them to the Circle, we aren't questioning the need for proper instruction."
"Good." Connor's smile was genuine and relieved. "What does—sorry, I'm not familiar with politics like I would've been had I not been a mage. But what does this mean for the kingdom? If both your sons are mages, then you don't have a child to inherit the throne.
"They do still have an heir." Teagan still seemed shocked, but was recovering quickly as a scowl overtook the rest. "Except Líadan took him when she left with Ava." Then he opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it in favor of frowning. After a moment, he asked, "What did happen there? Are the rumors true? Did Malcolm truly say some horrible things? And, instead of patiently waiting for him to come around, she took the children and left for the Dalish?"
"They're sort of true." Alistair had to resist squirming in his seat. Teagan had always been good at getting the truth from Alistair when Alistair had been just a boy, and it'd been no different in adulthood. Then again, he didn't really need to keep the secret, not anymore. While he couldn't get his brother and his brother's family back quick enough, he could at least restore the public's faith in Malcolm and Líadan and their marriage. The Fereldan humans would hopefully stop resenting Líadan for giving up what they'd wanted and she'd had, and the city elves could stop hating Malcolm for being so bad to her that she'd left. The elves would be sorted out the fastest, since Shianni had known the truth the entire time. And Shianni's word went a long way, especially if she was shouting it.
Teagan leaned back and stroked his goatee. "Sort of? How does anything 'sort of' be the truth?"
"Líadan did leave for the Dalish," said Anora, which told Alistair that her thoughts had run the same course as his, and they were in full agreement. "That much is true."
"She took Ava to the Dalish so that a Keeper could be her teacher," Alistair said quietly. "And Cáel had to go with her because—"
"If the Chantry found out that Cáel's sister was a mage, they'd come after him again," Teagan said, equally as quiet. "Of course, I see it now. I suspect Ava's talent along with your sons' newly discovered ones are what have prompted this Landsmeet? Because I don't believe you'll send your children to the Circle, not after what you witnessed there during the Blight, Alistair."
"It will cause a rift between Ferelden and the Orlesian Chantry." It was Anora who answered, which served to illustrate her complete support of what Teagan seemed to have believed to be primarily Alistair's wishes. "We cannot take the risk without asking the support of the Bannorn."
Despite the somber atmosphere, Teagan chuckled. "I doubt you'll have much trouble getting approval for that. The Bannorn still holds a grudge against the Chantry for the last transgressions. They've probably been looking for an excuse to break away for years, and now you'll be dropping one in their laps. You'll certainly have to present some sort of plan for educating mages if you aren't going to require them to be kept in Circles, because there are many who yet harbor fear of magic. If not a fully fleshed-out plan, then at least a basic idea. At this rate, you could probably start a Circle right here in the palace."
Alistair sat up. "I don't see why we shouldn't."
Anora sharply turned her head around to raise an eyebrow, informing Alistair exactly how bad of a plan it was.
"Not actually in the palace, since people would start to complain about mages influencing the monarchy. But I don't see why we can't have one here in Denerim, like any other school. Children could still live at home, keeping them with their families, maintaining their connections to them to give them stability. They'd go to school during the day and still learn to control and use their magic. And like at a Circle, they'd also get a regular education along with it."
"What if a mage child has a family so terrified of magic and mages that they no longer want them?" asked Connor. "At least a quarter of the mages at Kinloch Hold had backgrounds like that."
"There could be a boarding option, in those cases." Anora focused her attention on Connor. "What do you think? You've lived in a Circle, and you've gone through the entirety of a Circle education and training. It makes your perspective a valuable one."
Connor squirmed a bit under the intense gaze of the Queen, which Alistair sympathized with. When Anora's clever mind grabbed hold of something and blazed through the possibilities, it could be quite unnerving. "I think it could work," Connor said softly, as if turning the idea over in his own mind. "I do. Some children, even the older ones, had a really hard time adjusting. You were expected to just forget about your family, to forget about where you came from, like suddenly the only thing that mattered about you was your magic. And for people who couldn't reconcile that, they never seemed to regain their equilibrium, and eventually meant for a disastrous end. Your plan could prevent that. Maybe it could make people a little less afraid of mages, of magic. Having all the healers able to respond to requests for help have helped in that process. This could make it better for everyone, not just your children."
"It means Dane and Callum could stay here," Teagan said after he offered a smile to his nephew. "And it means Líadan and the children could come home. And maybe your brother too. Is he actually with them, and the Warden mission some sort of cover?"
Alistair groaned. "I wish. He wishes. No, he's on an actual Warden mission. Wynne needed help from the Wardens, Malcolm needed a distraction, and so off he went at Hildur's request. Líadan and the children might return faster than he does, depending on how his trip goes."
"Did he handle it poorly? The forced separation?"
"Not as poorly as you'd think, but it was easy enough to see how painful it was for him. And for Líadan and the children, too. As Dalish as she is, and as much as she loves being out of the city and with the people she's much more familiar with, if Malcolm isn't with her, she's still never quite as happy as she could be. She won't admit it, at least not to any of us, but her real concept of home is more Malcolm than anything else."
Teagan nodded, easily seeing how the rumors had worked so well. "Yet, those of us who don't know her as well would believe she'd rather be with the Dalish."
"She might rather be with the Dalish," said Anora, "but only if Malcolm is there."
"And he's obviously still crazy about her." Alistair sat back again as he gave a dramatic groan. "It's sickening, really. But it was a lot more sickening to see them separated. It'll be nice to have them home, and the boys really miss their cousins. Besides, with three mages amongst them, it'll help to normalize their situation."
Anora abandoned her level look at Alistair to return to Connor. "Actually, Connor, would you mind speaking with Dane and Callum? Perhaps it would help them to talk with a mage much closer to their own age. The only mages they've spoken to thus far have been Wardens far older than they are."
"I'd be happy to," said Connor, who truly seemed like he was.
"Bring Rowan," said Alistair.
The request made Connor surprisingly hesitant. "With three little mages, you might want to consider having a templar on hand." He held up his own hands to ward off objections. "Not because the three of them aren't to be trusted to not be possessed or something, but because little kids tend to get up to things even without magic."
"He has a point, Alistair," said Teagan. "If you disagree, I can tell some stories about your own—"
Alistair shot a mock glare at him. "Oh, no. You keep those to yourself." Like he wanted the story about him locking himself in the dungeon to get out, and that wasn't the worst of the stories. "We can stay with them. It's honestly amazing and refreshing to see them play games so easily with magic, like it was any other childhood game." He stood up so they could find a better room for that many magical kids to play in. Probably the smaller audience chamber would do. Large enough where they could run, and empty enough where they wouldn't wreck much.
"It's like breathing," Connor said as he and the others followed Alistair's lead. "It's so natural that you can't imagine not having it there, not being able to use it. But even then, things can get out of hand, especially when you're a kid."
Before Connor could use himself as an example, Alistair jumped in. "I believe my niece is proof enough of that. Her moments of losing control have all been directed at her brother. Not that Cáel hadn't deserved it, but it was more the sorts of things that tend to earn pushes or punches in retaliation rather than being set on fire." Maker, but he missed them.
Teagan fetched Rowan from the Redcliffe estate as Connor chatted with the two princes in the audience room. Her mind clearly alight on determining the details of their hatchling of a plan, Anora paced behind the two chairs that served as thrones during official audiences. Once Teagan returned with Rowan in tow, they set aside serious chats about magic. The three children were happy enough to run about, if their collective volume of noise was anything to base it on, while Connor alternated between participating and watching, caught as he was in that realm of having exited childhood but not quite having gained confidence about early adulthood. Anora kept on with her thinking, and Alistair spoke with Teagan about mundane things, happy to simply converse about, well, nothing, really.
Then the messengers came—a merchant, a Seeker, and a templar—and everything changed.