The lull in the tedious proceedings that morning was welcome. Anora shifted in her throne resigned to wasting the entire glorious spring morning in that dull captivity. The case was one that had escalated to the point that the Crown had been required to intervene. A simple farmers' dispute over contested land had somehow grown to engulf two arlings, almost the entire Bannorn, and even pit several courtiers against each other. It was enough. The solution to the matter was simple, as far as she could tell. She had ordered that the surveyor's records of the original land boundaries be located in the court's archive.
That no one had bothered to verify the original records annoyed her to no end. Instead, they'd had made her suffer through claims based on sentimentality.
As she settled back on her throne, resting her hands over the armrests, she stole a glance at Alistair, sitting beside her, his crown fitted imposingly over his head. She wondered if he was daydreaming of his days of wandering through Ferelden, free and distant from the daily incidences at court.
Unlike Alistair, Cailan hadn't had any patience for the minutiae of ruling, for the little, seemingly insignificant details that affected the daily lives of the people. He had been only partially right when he stated that successful rulers performed heroic, epic deeds. What he had failed to understand was that there was heroism in fighting the smaller battles on the home front: squabbling nobles, skewed trade agreements, borders that needed patrolling, offering aid to displaced, unemployed, and under-educated elves, appeasing a Chantry in disarray...the challenges were endless.
His fingers tapped over the end of the throne's padded armrest, very close to her own. As if sensing her gaze upon him, his fingers brushed against hers, a furtive caress before the entire court.
He might have been the bastard, but he's more noble than the legitimate heir ever was.
"Alistair," she whispered, watching grown men sulk at each other from across the room as they awaited for the records to arrive.
He leaned in closer.
"I will not come to your quarters tonight," she declared, speaking into his ear. He turned his head to face her, a protest forming over his lips. "I miss my rooms' comforts; I want you to come to them instead," she quickly explained.
"Very well," he conceded. "I will visit you tonight, then."
"No," she continued, shaking her head slightly.
He appeared utterly dismayed.
She took a deep breath mustering her courage. "Not just tonight. Thalissa will begin moving your personal effects into my quarters this afternoon. Your valet will need to assist her," she informed him.
He blinked a few times.
"Is that acceptable to you?" she added, almost as an afterthought.
"Y- yes!" he finally managed to stammer. He looked ahead, as if in a daze. "Are you sure? You won't tire of seeing me every night...day? I am just down the hall—"
"If the arrangement doesn't appeal to you—" she said nervously.
"No, no! I would like that," he interrupted eagerly. "I'm surprised, is all." He looked ahead. "Maker!" he whispered, a smile emerging on his lips. "I know...You are only doing this for Ferelden," he teased her, his delight in her proposal evident.
"Aye, my Lord," she said with an exaggerated formality. "T'is for my love of Ferelden."
Her hand brushed back affectionately against his and she continued.
"But do you not understand?" She turned her clear gaze resolutely to his warm brown eyes. "You, my Lord, are Ferelden."
There was no end to the idiotic grins plastered over the faces of the many delegates in the room despite the animosity they were feeling for each other that morning. Later on they would be responsible for spreading the gossip that would make the run of the market square, inns, shops, and taverns. After all, they had witnessed a precious, intimate moment between their beloved monarchs. The king, they saw, had leaned in, as if engaging in a private conversation with the queen, but turned to kiss her cheek, instead. He then took her hand firmly in his and whispered something into her ear.
At his words, the queen had closed her eyes and smiled joyfully.