Chapter 6.5: Behind Closed Doors

Cailan's POV

Once the excitement in the streets died down and Anora had retreated to her wing of rooms with Loghain, Cailan searched out his uncle. He found him, locked away in Eamon's study. Cailan shut the door behind him with a soft click, stepping toward his uncle, who was seated at a desk cluttered with reports. Eamon glanced up, his expression unreadable.

"Uncle," Cailan began, his voice low but urgent, "I need your help."

Eamon set down his quill with a sigh, already used to his nephew's usual predicaments. "What is it this time, Cailan? Which nobleman's daughter must we find a husband for to avoid tarnishing their name?"

"It's not that," Cailan replied sharply, his frustration creeping in. "Something happened while my retinue and I were hunting darkspawn. Something I can't fully explain."

Cailan's words hung in the air as he began to recount the events: tracking the darkspawn, the blinding flash of light, and Maryse's sudden fall from the sky. His voice faltered only slightly when he got to the part about finding her alive when they reached her.

Eamon blinked. "What are you talking about?" He frowned, clearly struggling to grasp his nephew's words. "You're telling me she… fell from the sky? Cailan, are you mad?"

"Don't make light of this," Cailan snapped, his eyes flashing. "This is important."

Eamon paused, his expression turning more serious. "I am serious, Cailan. You have a habit of dragging women into the palace without a second thought. What is this about? Are you so intent on scandalizing the court that you'll bring in another… mistress?"

Cailan's face hardened. "She's not a mistress, Uncle. Don't you dare say that. I won't have anyone insulting her. She was sent by the Maker, this is my responsibility. I have to help her."

"Different?" Eamon scoffed. "Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like another affair for your 'wandering eye.' You've insulted Anora and Loghain enough without bringing her into it."

"Enough!" Cailan's voice cut through the tension like a whip. He leaned forward, gripping the back of a chair as if steadying himself. "You think I don't know the consequences? You think I don't understand how this looks? But I know what I'm doing, Uncle."

Eamon's gaze narrowed, his voice calm but sharp. "You're the king, Cailan. Not a spoiled child. This is not some game."

"I'm not a child," Cailan growled, barely holding back his anger. "And Maryse is not some trinket I've picked up." He exhaled sharply, trying to center himself. "We saw her fall, Eamon. From the sky. She landed right in front of us. It was no accident."

Eamon watched him for a long moment, his brow furrowed as if trying to make sense of the situation. He didn't seem convinced.

"I'm not expecting you to believe it," Cailan said, his tone sharper now, frustration creeping in. "But I'm telling you the truth. My men saw it too. Ask them. They'll confirm it. We're not imagining this."

Eamon's expression was unreadable. "You're serious about this? You truly believe this woman was sent by the Maker?"

"I know she was," Cailan said firmly. "And I trust her. More than anyone else in this damn palace." His voice softened, but the intensity remained. "I'm not asking for your approval, Eamon. I'm telling you she'll need a room. Somewhere away from the court, out of sight."

Eamon exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples as he weighed the situation. "And what of Anora? What of Loghain? Your… reputation?"

"I'm not asking for their approval either," Cailan muttered, defiant but also a little vulnerable. "You're the only one I'm asking for help, Uncle. I need her here. I'm not ashamed of it."

Eamon sighed heavily, his gaze steady on Cailan. "You're playing with fire, Cailan. But fine. I'll take care of the arrangements. But mark my words—this won't end well for you. If you're wrong about her, it'll cost you more than just court gossip."

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life," Cailan replied firmly. "I know the risks. I understand what this will look like to the court. But I can't just leave her out there. She needs protection, and I'll help her find a way back home, if that's even possible. I won't leave her to the mercy of strangers—or worse, those who would use her for their own gain."

Eamon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, clearly still weighing his nephew's words. After a long pause, he finally let out a deep sigh. "You're determined, I see. But you're also making a lot of assumptions. The court will never accept this. You bring in some woman, tell them she's from 'another world,' and they'll laugh you out of the throne room."

Cailan's jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "I don't care what the court thinks. She needs to be protected, and I'll make sure she's safe."

Eamon chuckled dryly. "Of course. But you do care about the court's reaction, or at least the political fallout. If you're serious about this—if you're not just playing the fool—you'll need a cover story. A way to justify her presence here without making you a target."

"A cover story?" Cailan echoed, frowning.

Eamon leaned back in his chair, thinking. "Something they'll believe. Something that fits with their sensibilities. A lost noblewoman, perhaps. Stranded, after a darkspawn attack, in need of protection. You offer her refuge while she recovers her memory after being hit in the head. That would keep the court's gossip in check and give you time to figure out the rest."

Cailan's frown deepened. "You think that'll work?"

"For now, yes," Eamon said. "It won't stop the whispers, but it will give you time. Time to figure out who she really is and what she's about. But remember, Cailan—you're the king now. Every action you take will be scrutinized."

"I'm aware of the stakes," Cailan said, the words heavy with resolve. "But I won't let her be used. Not like this."

Eamon nodded slowly, his expression softening. "I understand. And I'll do what I can to help. But remember, Cailan, there's a fine line between protecting someone and creating a situation you can't control. The court will be watching."

Cailan gave a small, grateful nod, though the weight of what lay ahead still lingered on him. "I'll take my chances. She's worth it."

Eamon sighed once more, his resigned gaze returning to the papers on his desk. "Very well. I'll make the arrangements. But remember—the story about her being a noblewoman is the best way to avoid real trouble. If anyone asks, that's what we'll say. Nothing more."

"Agreed," Cailan said, standing straighter, a subtle nod of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Uncle."

Eamon only shook his head, picking up his quill again. "I'll do what I can. But remember, Cailan—you're not the only one who'll have to live with the consequences."

Cailan didn't respond immediately. He simply turned, leaving the room with a heavy heart, the weight of his decision pressing down on him.

A/N

Hi Y'all. If you've stuck around this long, thank you! I hope you're enjoying.

I've made a few adjustments to the existing story. As you'll see I've changed the title and I've added a cover page. If you were wondering what Maryse looks like, that's it. I've also decided to treat this more as a prequel to the true story. So this storyline will cover all the way up until the beginning of Origins. As you'll see, I'm weaving in both OC's and characters from the series and trying to make Maryse's growth as believable and realistic as I can.

This chapter is a little look into Cailan's thought process right now and sets up Eamon to be an unwilling ally in protecting Maryse.

Next chapter is back to Maryse's point of view.