King Alistair looked up from his pile of paperwork as the door opened, a squire quietly stepping in.

"What is it?" he asked, possibly snapping a bit much. The poor boy shuffled a bit awkwardly. He was pretty new to the job, but he was doing well. Not that his master had told him as much, poor boy. Alistair immediately felt bad for snapping.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty," he started, "I didn't mean to disturb, it's just that there's someone here who -"

The poor lad was cut off as a loud thunk echoed in the room. Alistair's eyes dropped to the head that was rolling towards him on the floor, raising his eyebrows before looking back to the squire, who had promptly lost all colour in his face. Beside him, holding a now empty bag, stood Siara. Behind her was Cullen, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"You asked for me, and I'm here. Thought I'd collect the bounty on Maric Ashwin while I was at it."

"Quite…" Alistair eyed the head again. "You sure know how to make an entrance, don't you?" he asked, standing up from his desk. "Hey, you, um…"

"Tarrock, ser."

"Tarrock, right, could you send for someone to deal with this head? Oh, and get someone to set up some rooms for our guests," Alistair asked. "In the meantime, I believe I have some other business to attend to."

"Yes, your Majesty."

The squire bowed and left the room, still looking pale.

"Well, he shows promise," Siara muttered.

"He's still a kid. I'd be more concerned if he wasn't upset at the sight of someone's head rolling on a freshly polished floor," Alistair tried to sound stern. Truth be told, he wasn't impressed that Siara had so casually rolled a bloody head on his floor, but he had to admire her gumption. She just shrugged.

"I tried to tell her not to, but she's not very good at listening I'm afraid," Cullen explained. Alistair chuckled.

"No, neither was Mara," he saw how Siara bristled at her sister's name, but thankfully it didn't go any further than that. "Which brings us around quite nicely to why I invited you here."

"You know I don't have a lot to say to you. Not about my sister. Not about anything. I only came because otherwise you wouldn't tell Ferelden that she was my sister, lending more support to the Inquisition."

"I know you don't have anything to say, Siara, and I don't expect you to," Alistair motioned to the door. "If you'd come with me? There's something I want to get for you."

Siara frowned, glancing over to Cullen as though he would have an explanation for her. She then stepped back out into the hall, Alistair carefully stepping around the head and leading the way.

"Any ideas what's going on?" he could hear Siara ask Cullen. Evidently she didn't really care if he heard their conversation, but Cullen lowered his voice slightly.

"No clue."

"You know him better than I do."

"I haven't seen him for many years, and we didn't know each other well."

Siara gave a noncommittal grunt in reply. Alistair knew that she wouldn't be taking her eyes off him, could practically feel her glaring holes into the back of his head. He didn't much like being on the receiving end of her anger, but he could understand it. Not that it was him who lied to her, but whether he knew he was involved or not at the time, he had been part of the reason that her sister stayed away. And part of the reason she had died.

He stopped in front of another door and turned to face his guests.

"Wait here a moment, would you? This won't take a second."

Siara raised an eyebrow at him, not saying anything. Alistair watched her for a moment, then nodded when she didn't move and ducked into his bedchamber. He still wasn't fully used to the size or extravagance of it after all these years. It just didn't quite feel right to him.

Partially because Mara wasn't there with him.

He paused for a moment, reaching down to give the elderly mabari a scratch behind the ear where he lay curled up beside the fire. The dog looked around at him adoringly, his tongue lolling out to the side.

"I might have someone for you to meet, soon," Alistair told him, "but we should probably let her have a moment first. Don't want to overwhelm her."

The dog leaned his head to the side before letting it fall back into his front paws. Alistair smiled at him, then carried on to the bedside cabinet, opening the door and pulling out a pile of papers that were neatly tied together with a piece of green ribbon. Mara had told him once that it was a gift from her brother, but she hadn't told him anything more than that. He only knew who the letters were for when he'd read the start of some of them. He looked down at the letters in his hands and shook his head.

It should have been Mara giving them to Siara, not him. She should have sent them to her family when she was still alive, like she said she was. He still didn't understand why she would lie about that. He turned and headed back to where Siara and Cullen were waiting.

"These are for you," he held the bundle of papers out for Siara to take. "I've had them since… well. Since she died. I knew they were for her siblings, but I didn't know anything about you, so I've just been holding on to them. Just in case."

Siara didn't move, her eyes resting on the letters in Alistair's hand. She didn't move, just looked at them. Alistair shared a look with Cullen, who frowned slightly. He didn't know either. They stood there for a bit longer before Siara slowly reached out to take them, turning them over in her hand before looking back at Alistair.

"Did you read them?"

"Only the first few lines of a couple of them," he admitted, "just to try and figure out who they were for."

"You know you could have just had these sent to the Inquisition and I would have gotten them."

"I felt it would be best to give these to you in person. And unfortunately, I'm a bit tied up with running a kingdom to make a pilgrimage."

"Right."

"If you'd like I can show you to a private part of the gardens so you can read them alone?"

For a moment it seemed like she hadn't heard, but eventually he got a small nod in response.

"I'll go find someone to show me where we're staying," Cullen said. "Start moving our things in."

"There should be someone in the main hall who can show you."

"Thank you."

Cullen bowed before heading off, and Alistair could have sworn he saw a slight smirk on Cullen's face. He shook his head.

"He's still got a bit of his old attitude hiding away, doesn't he?"

"Cullen had attitude?" Siara didn't sound like she was fully invested in the conversation, still looking at the letters in her hand. That was likely the only reason that Cullen had left Alistair alone with her. She didn't seem like she was mentally capable of attacking him.

"It was a long time ago," Alistair admitted, "back when we were training to be templars. You'd still have been able to peg him as being Cullen, but he was more free spirited."

"I see."

"The gardens are this way."

Alistair motioned for Siara to follow him, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.