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Expecting	By : alisgal1 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 7014 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Bioware Dragon Age characters. I make no money off of this. Alistair can own me any time, however.

Chapter List
- 1-Expecting
- 2-From Palace Ball to Memory Ln.
- 1
- 2
I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.
~Henry Ward Beecher
Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine
23 Bloomingtide, 9:34 Dragon
"Wait,Jareth! Let me finish getting dressed! Why are you in such a rush?"
Commander Cousland looked in the direction of the commotion to see Jareth purposely striding down the corridor into the main hall with nothing but trousers on, while Anabelle, wrapped in linen sheets hurried after him.
Rosalyn took a sip of scotch from the tumbler she was holding while finishing the last minute arrangements with Captain Garavel before her departure.
"Maker's breath! It's always something with that one," Captain Garavel said.
She felt a ghost of a smile on her lips. "He can heal, and he's loyal to our Order, so I don't mind his antics."
She watched the captain roll his eyes, not seeming to agree with her assessment.
"You'll change your tune the next time he heals you from sickness or injury," she informed him while taking another pull from her glass.
He scoffed at the idea. "Highly unlikely. He'll still be a nuisance."
Rosalyn shook her head, finding her second in command's obstinacy humorous. It was comforting that some things in her life were dependable.
"Commander!" Jareth yelled, winded, as he walked into the hall.
Rosalyn finished her scotch, prepared to head out at the completion of this conversation.
"You can't actually be going to this shindig without protection. That's crazy! Especially since you're not feeling well and I still don't know why!" Jareth shouted at the Commander. Anabelle stopped right behind him, her arm placed on his back.
Ignoring the Warden's complaints temporarily, Rosalyn turned towards the nearly naked cook. "Anabelle, why don't you go back to the room and put clothes on? It's not wise to be walking around naked." Anabelle nodded nervously, and then began walking back towards Jareth's room.
"And you." Rosalyn turned towards Jareth. "What happened? Did you forget where you placed your tunic? Why are you running around half-naked?"
"That's what I'd like to know," said Garavel.
The mage crossed his arms over his chest. "I lost track of time. When I realized what day it was, I had to find you quickly to tell you all the tests that I've run on your blood are still all coming back with nothing. I need more blood, more time, and you are crazy if you think you're going unaccompanied!"
The Commander's eyes followed Anabelle's retreating form. "I suppose you did lose track of time." Her lips curled sardonically. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Yes, yes, we can talk about Anabelle another time. But, you can't go without company and I need to run more tests."
"Commander, with all due respect, and I can't believe I'm saying this," Garavel said, "Jareth is right. Until we figure out what's causing your sickness, you should not travel unescorted."
Rosalyn let out a long sigh, feeling outnumbered by two of the most stubborn men in all of the Keep.
"Very well, go get dressed, Jareth. Also, you will need to pack your robes. We must be in Grey Warden attire at the party." A small smile came to her lips as she saw the humor this situation presented. "And tell Oghren to get ready as well. We leave in an hour."
Rolling his eyes at the company coming, Jareth nodded and left.
Rosalyn could hear Garavel next to her saying gleefully, "The two of them gone for a week! I must be dreaming."
She turned towards the man. "Happy early birthday present."
"You know how to spoil me, Commander."
"All right, see me back here in an hour before we leave. My glass is sadly empty and that needs to be remedied immediately."
She walked off towards her office where she stashed the quality bourbon.
….
Royal Palace, Denerim
24 Bloomingtide, 9:34 Dragon
"So, you've taken the herbs and allowed the mages to cast the spells, right?" Anora asked her husband while removing her hair pins placing them down on her vanity.
"Yes, yes," Alistair replied as he began removing his armor.
"I thought you'd be more excited about possibly conceiving an heir, your Majesty," Anora replied in a mocking bitter tone. "Or is it just because you wish I were someone else?"
"Do not bring her into this, Anora. You should be the biggest fan of Rosalyn Cousland in all of Thedas. If it wasn't for her convincing me to marry you, I'd have left you in that tower to live out your days after I decapitated your treacherous father." Alistair walked over to his wife, hovering over her. "Don't forget that everything you still have is because of her."
He let out the breath he was holding, some of his steam now gone. In a calmer, gentler tone he said, "Just get into bed, and let's get this over with."
Alistair snuffed out the candle, climbing in to the left side of the bed. He slept with his wife to create an heir while fantasizing about another woman entirely.
…
Outskirts of Denerim
25 Bloomingtide, 9:34 Dragon
"Damn it, Jareth that hurts!" Rosalyn cried out.
"I'm sorry. It's almost over. I'm taking three vials all at once, so hopefully we don't need to keep repeating this," Jareth told her in a soothing tone.
Jareth squeezed Rosalyn's arm tighter to increase the blood flow in to the vial. He watched as she closed her eyes, bearing her weight into his chest. Rosalyn was unusually sensitive lately to physical pain. It was another symptom that he catalogued among the rest. Although he did not wish her to be in pain, her close proximity- her forehead resting against his chest- wasn't the worst outcome to this situation. In fact, he had dreamed of a similar situation many nights in his bedroom.
The vial finally filled and he sealed it.
"All done," Jareth told her as the hand that had been wrapped around her arm now began pulsing with healing magic. The wound closed, Rosalyn stood up shakily.
"Thanks, Jareth. I'm just going to lie down now." She let out a yawn. "I'm exhausted."
"No dinner?" he asked.
She shook her head, beginning to walk over to her bedroll. Lying down, she replied, "Feel too sick to eat."
"Do you want another health poultice or healing treatment?" he asked.
"Save them for when they are really needed. Good night guys," she said while pulling the blanket up over her chest.
Jareth sat down, turning the hare roasting on the stick. He could hear Rosalyn already beginning to snore, another new symptom.
"You know, you're a fool for not telling her,"Oghren said, sitting next to him, oilskin in hand.
Jareth turned, eyebrow raised. "Come again, dwarf?"
"You and the commander doing kissy faces. We all know that's what you want. Well, except maybe her," Oghren said before beginning to empty his ale filled oilskin.
"Shut your mouth, dwarf!" Jareth shouted. Oghren replied in a round of laughter, wiping the ale dribbling down his chin away.
Jareth grabbed the roasted hare out of anger, sliding it off the stick, yelping at burning his hand in the process. Taking out his dagger, he cut the rabbit in half, nearly throwing Oghren's portion at him. Jareth's antics only caused Oghren to laugh harder.
Biting into the hare, Jareth chewed thoughtfully. When he finished, he said, "It doesn't matter. I'm not a king. She deserves better than to be his mistress, though. If she was with me, she wouldn't have to keep living a lie. Everyone could know we were together. I don't understand what she sees in him." Jareth turned in Oghren's direction. "You better not breathe a word of this to her, dwarf, or I'll set your arse on fire."
"Your secret is safe with me…..as long as you give me your ale tonight."
Jareth rolled his eyes, handing his alcohol filled oilskin over to the dwarf. "Remember, not a word."
Oghren smiled, greedily beginning to untwist the cap. "Your secret's safe with me, mage."
…
Royal Palace, Denerim
26 Bloomingtide, 9:34 Dragon
Alistair stood there, nervously fidgeting. Rosalyn hadn't attended a ball in years, normally out in the field when they were being held. Some of the nobles were coming in, announced by the guards as they bowed and pledged their allegiance to him. Fergus Cousland appeared and did the same. He remembered Rosalyn was concerned in the beginning for Fergus as she told Alistair in her letters. Afraid that the death of his wife, child, and parents would be too much, he would be overcome with grief and become a drunken degenerate. To keep him going, they had hired new staff, trained vigorously together every day, and went about a busy life. Rosalyn had written a few months later, happy to see him not taking a turn for the worst; he came from good stock, and the strength in his blood would save him.
He was pulled from his thoughts when the guard announced, "Lady Rosalyn Cousland, Warden Commander of Ferelden, Arlessa of Amaranthine."
She bowed, swearing fealty to Alistair wearing light decorative armor. The material had gold and silver weaved into the design, but he did not remember ever seeing this piece of armor in her closet before. Her long red hair was pulled up in a very intricate fashion: braids and twisted pieces all meeting together in clips and pins that matched the armor, while the rest of her hair hung down her back in large curls.
It didn't escape Alistair's attention who was standing on her left and right- Jareth and Oghren. They bowed with their commander, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed that she had not come alone. It would make trying to find time alone with her later more complicated. He was being an idiot, though, he knew. It was absurd to think of Rosalyn traveling half way across Ferelden unaccompanied. Still, the few precious days a year he had with her he wanted all to himself, no interference.
As soon as she lifted from her salute, she quickly walked over to Fergus, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Her body-guards followed at a reasonable distance.
Fergus's voice was naturally deep and commanding so it was easy to hear him say, "Sister, I've missed you. Tell me you're coming home soon."
Alistair saw her returning smile.
"Soon, brother, I promise. There is one small matter that needs to be attended to, and then I can come home for some time."
"Now that's what I like to hear!" he said with enthusiasm.
Alistair loved watching her, seeing her responses and reactions to things. It might have been four years since the Blight, but it was one of the things he had loved the most, just standing and watching her command the group. One of the lesser nobles that, for the life of him, Alistair couldn't remember the man's name, came over to her, clearly already intoxicated. He asked her in a booming voice why she was wearing armor and not a dress. In a quiet voice, Rosalyn had told the man she would change soon. Her traveling schedule had not permitted her to change beforehand.
Alistair was always bored to tears at these functions. Wanting to spice things up, he asked, "Well Commander, would you honor me with a performance to show these men and women how well the Wardens protect our lands?"
"As you desire, your Majesty. If your guards would bring in six dummies, I can begin."
Alistair nodded and raised his hand for the command to be done. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eamon put his head in his hands.
Ha, not like any of your so-called elite guards you hired for me can do anything as impressive as this.
The guards appeared and she asked them to place the dummies around her in a circle. She then asked if anyone had a cloth she could blind fold herself with. Alistair gave her a long piece of purple cloth that she looked at momentarily and smiled. The piece of cloth was from a dress that, in the summer heat near Waking Sea, he had cut off her with her dagger. He kept the cloth as a souvenir, and carried it with him most days. She tied it around her head and over her eyes.
"This," she said loudly, "is how you kill multiple assailants, at once, and blindfolded."
But Alistair's mind wandered, and he was suddenly back to that hot night lying on the sandy beaches near the Waking Sea. After slicing off her dress with the dagger, he cut a piece off for himself.
"Alistair, what are you going to do with that cloth?" she asked him.
He gave her his crooked grin. "Don't worry about it."
"You don't think it's dangerous to be carrying around a piece of my dress? People could find out."
He touched her cheek gently and stared into her eyes. "It'll just be our little secret, and you'll know that you're always on my mind, no matter how far away you are."
She kissed him. "Why don't you show me how much I'm on your mind right now?"
He finished taking off the ripped dress and made love to her under the half moon and stars. The sound of waves lapping the shore serenaded the two lovers in the background.
A second later, he was being pulled out of his memory by hearing the second dagger slice through the dummy. She then threw the third, fourth, and so on with deadly precision and accuracy. If it had been a human, the dagger would have gone through their heart. The room exploded in applause.
Alistair knew just how difficult this trick was to do.
A little after his coronation, Rosalyn left to stay with Fergus before riding to Amaranthine. Alistair missed her so terribly that he began doing little things that reminded himself of her. He only tried the trick with one dagger, one dummy, no blindfold, and a seemingly empty courtyard. The guard, however, ended up in the infirmary for over a month. He happened to be patrolling fiftypaces away from the dummy and wound up with a dagger in his leg. Alistair never tried dagger throwing again.
He joined in the applause as she bowed. She took off her blindfold and gently played with the material in her hands, twirling it around her fingers. A small smile spread across Alistair's face, thinking that she, too, was reminiscing about that night on the beach just as he had been.
"Long live theWarden Commander! Maker Bless the Grey Wardens!" The nobles were chanting as she continuously bowed to them. "Long live the Warden!"
Alistair knew the Warden wouldn't be long- lived, however.
He remembered the night she asked him about what changed a Grey Warden physically. It was the night he told her about the appetite increase, the nightmares, and the ultimate death sentence. He remembered the look in her eyes. It wasn't fear; it was acceptance.
"So I'm going to die," she said.
She then asked about children, and he told her the unlikeliness because of the taint. That was when, for the first time ever, he saw pain in her eyes. "No children ever?"
She looked down at the ground before continuing, "I always thought I'd be a mother."
That evening, he held her in his arms late into the night. They said nothing to each other as she slowly accepted her fate, and he wished he didn't need to be the one to tell her.
Finally, she turned to him and said, "Thank you. I know it had to have been tough telling me that. I'm sorry I didn't handle it well. I just always thought I'd marry someone I loved and have a big family. But, I should be thankful I'm even alive. If it hadn't been for Duncan, I'd be dead."
She asked him to stay in her tent that night, and he held her all night while they slept.
The guards were now moving the dummies, and the nobles were gathering into small groups, chattering. But, he couldn't see Rosalyn. He scanned the room for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Oghren and Jareth had already helped themselves to ale and plates of food.
The guard to the right of Alistair quietly said, "She went to put her daggers away in their storage space."
Without thinking, he turned and walked towards the Grey Warden vault. Alistair found her inside with her leg up on a trunk, strapping a small dagger to her inner thigh. She was already dressed in a royal blue backless dress with tapered heels that tied up her calves. Taking in the view, he gulped hard. Rosalyn already having felt his presence let her leg down, the dress readjusting accordingly. She picked up the wine glass that had been also sitting on the trunk, as she smiled at him.
"Very nice," he said his hand motioning to her dress. He walked towards her until she was within arm's reach.
She shrugged taking a sip of the wine. "Just something I had lying around in here. Thought it best I put it on and not cause trouble tonight."
His eyebrow rose. "No trouble? None at all?"
"Less trouble," she said, giving him a small mischievous smirk.
He laughed. "Yes, well, I know how much you love these things."
She rolled her eyes. "I'll take a Hurlock Vanguard over this any day. But sometimes duty says you must don a dress and act like a fool."
Eamon appeared, ceasing the private conversation. "Your Highness, we have been looking for you. You can't just leave the ball that you're hosting."
"Sure he can, Eamon," said Rosalyn. "He's king. Besides, I think most are too drunk by now to remember where they even are."
Eamon began to protest as Rosalyn side-stepped away from Alistair and walked out of the vault.
"Lock it up behind you, brother. Top secret stuff in there." She winked, and then disappeared.
Alistair sighed, feeling that would be all the private time he would have with her that night. It was never enough. Eamon glared at him.
"She is a bad influence on you."
Alistair laughed. "Calm down, Eamon, or you'll have a heart attack. Let's go."
Closing the vault door behind them, Alistair spun the wheel on the door, relocking it in place. His eyes lingered on the door as he thought about the conversation they just had.
Alistair remembered the day she had put that dress in the vault. It was right after his coronation and Leliana had taken her shopping. She had told Rosalyn that she would never know when she would need a gown spur of the moment, but Alistair had always suspected Rosalyn went along simply to placate the bard. Leliana had picked the dress out, commenting that the piece was timeless. That was the first and last time Rosalyn ever used the Grey Warden vault here in the palace before tonight. She had only come to the palace a handful of times since then in the last five years and always at Alistair's request. In the beginning, he had hoped she would come more frequently, if only to use the vault, and he had left little tokens of affection with notes in there for her to find in case she came unannounced and he missed her. After the third year, however, he stopped hoping.
Walking back to the ballroom, he realized that most of the noblemen were indeed drunk, while others were back to gossiping in small groups. Scanning to find her, he saw her leaning against the wall, quietly talking to her brother, who was chuckling at whatever she was saying. Alistair held up his hand for the minstrels to begin playing. People broke up their gossiping groups, looking for partners to begin dancing. He stood and watched as several men's faces, upon looking at Rosalyn, seemed overeager. He was not pleased in the least at that turn of events.
This had been a heated argument between the two for a solid year after Alistair's coronation. Rosalyn refused to be an acknowledged mistress. Whenever he would ask her why, her answer had been that it would tarnish his reputation to have one. She claimed he was still an unknown to the people and having their affair public would only harm his rule. To all outsiders, they were dear friends. Alistair could even say she was his closest friend. He never believed her argument, always thinking there was some other reason for her refusal. He eventually dropped the argument, not wanting to spend the precious time he had with her arguing. It had led, however, to Alistair's jealousy getting the best of him at times. He wished that people knew she was his, so he could stop other men from trying to claim her.
He watched her brother take her hand and lead her out to the dance floor, bowing to her as she curtsied. This was one of those rare opportunities where Alistair could watch Rosalyn dance. Despite her being rather graceful, Rosalyn hated to dance. In fact, there were very few things in the world that Rosalyn hated less than dancing. But, Rosalyn had put her distaste aside for him years ago.
Alistair drifted back to the memory of camp one night.
"So, Alistair. You know you need to learn to dance," she informed him.
"I do?"
"Of course. You want to be king and this comes with it. Would you like me to teach you?"
Leliana played the lute while Rosalyn instructed him. He had to admit she was a wonderful teacher. On more than one occasion he had been complimented on how well he kept pace in a dance.
Eamon stepped over to the queen asking her for a dance. Seeing Alistair still as a statue, she accepted. When the song ended, Alistair watched the men line up to dance with Rosalyn. Alistair felt disgusted watching these men stare at her as if Rosalyn was some prized sow at a market to hungrily eye over. Didn't they understand? She was in a committed relationship… with him.
Arl Teagan finally cut in and he and Rosalyn seemed deep in conversation while dancing. When another nobleman attempted to cut in, Rosalyn was the one who refused. Alistair wondered why.
Finally, she walked over to the minstrels and had them finish playing. Everyone looked up as she said, "Lords and Ladies, as you know, the Arling of Amaranthine has had financial difficulties due to the reconstruction of Vigil's Keep. However, with the generous donations of Banns Alfstanna and Cerolic of silverite ore, armor was made for my Wardens. I brought a piece to show."
One of the guards came in holding up a breastplace of silverite with the Grey Warden symbol etched into the chest. Everyone commented on the quality of the piece.
"I am proud to announce that this armor saved three of my seasoned Wardens just last week from a darkspawn attack in a village outside Waking Sea."
Everyone clapped at the news, and two banns stood taller while everyone gave them praise. Alistair knew Rosalyn was a cunning woman. Making such a public gesture would have the nobles clamoring to make donations to the Grey Wardens. All would want to show that they were the most generous. She was using their vanity against them. He smiled to himself.
"So, as a thank you to these two nobles, to King Alistair, and the lovely Queen Anora for throwing this wonderful celebration, I would like to honor them with an old song sung by an old friend." Rosalyn held up her newly filled wine glass, toasting the king and queen.
Leliana stepped out of the curtains dressed in a long, violet colored dress. Alistair had not seen Leliana in years, though he suspected Rosalyn kept in contact with her. That was one of Rosalyn's oddest traits, he thought. When she decided she liked you, you'd always know it.
When he first became king, he had auditioned minstrels himself, hoping to find one that sounded similar to Leliana. Not a one came even remotely close. He immediately recognized the song she was singing. It was a song that Leliana had written during the Blight about the determination of the Wardens, the heart of a soldier, and the rise of a king. He remembered the night Leliana wrote and sang it, being that Rosalyn sat in his lap all night, head curled into his chest while he rubbed her back. Remembering those days during the Blight, they had all seemed so painfully simple. Sure, there was a civil war and a Blight ravaging the lands, but Rosalyn was his and every night, they were together. He'd felt invincible at the time. Nowadays, more often than not, he found himself quietly reliving those days in his mind. Alistair felt he was forever looking backwards, not really desiring to see what was ahead.
At the closing of the song, the nobles exploded into applause. He noticed that Bann Alfstanna had actually cried.
Yes, I know her voice is overwhelmingly beautiful. I cried a little the first time I heard her sing, as well.
Alistair watched Rosalyn leaning against the wall sipping her wine, a wistful look in her eyes. She must have felt his stare, because she turned, locking eyes with him.
He had been too far away from her for too long, and that song had stirred up too many feelings inside him. Walking across the room, Alistair moved next to the two ladies standing there chatting.
"How have you been, Roz?" Leliana asked, a pitying tone in her voice.
"Same old, same old. No cause for complaints," Rosalyn replied, taking another sip of wine.
"Yup. Same old Rosalyn," Leliana said with a saddened tone, causing Rosalyn to frown in reply.
"Warden Commander, may I have the honor of this dance," Alistair asked, extending his hand towards her.
"Well, hello to you too, Alistair," Leliana said.
"Hello, Leliana. Great song, really, it's my favorite. But I've got to get her on the floor, or she'll disappear again. She's sneaky like that," Alistair informed her.
"Very well." Leliana sighed and gave Alistair a wink.
"The honor would be mine, your Majesty," Rosalyn replied.
As they danced, he could hear Oghren burping loudly causing some of the nobles to shriek in disgust. Not coincidentally, he thought at that same moment, Rosalyn smiled. As he spun her around, he could see Jareth talking to another nobleman's daughter, telling her just what he could do with his magic. Leliana had begun walking over to Oghren.
"Pardon me, your Majesty. May I cut in?"
"Bann Harel, I have very little time to spend with my close friend, as she is always out in the field. You may have the next dance, however, if she is agreeable."
"My apologies, your Highness," he said, looking embarrassed at being denied.
No favors for him, ever.
Rosalyn looked amused as Alistair twirled her around.
They continued dancing and his focus was on her. Her icy blue eyes were hypnotizing in contrast to her slightly tanned skin from her time outside. When the dance ended, he bowed and kissed her hand, his lips lingering on her skin, prolonging the moment. She curtsied and waited for the next dance partner. He felt a flash of jealousy and took his wife's arm, leading her to the dance floor. Anora was a better dancer than Rosalyn, probably because she enjoyed it more. But her graceful steps weren't enough to keep Alistair's mind from swaying.
He remembered one night during his dance lessons.
"Alistair, you are too stiff and rigid." Rosalyn slid her hands down his sides before continuing, " Dancing isn't just about form. It's about emotion. Listen to the song. Now, emotions that you've been bottling up inside you, either good or bad, let them out while you dance."
Alistair had no idea how long he had been daydreaming, but there was suddenly clapping and it appeared the song had ended. Anora cleared her throat causing Alistair to look in her direction.
Rosalyn was now in front of him with Jareth and Oghren at her side, all three bowing.
"My king and queen, it has been an honor, but I'm afraid, we must take our leave now," Rosalyn said.
At the same time, a nobleman approached, one Alistair knew had been petitioning for months to have the levy on grain lowered, asking Anora to dance. She turned to the group wishing them all a safe trip before accepting the nobleman's hand. Alistair wanted to give the annoying noble a pat on the back for his perfect timing. He turned his attention back to Rosalyn.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Everything is fine. But I need to head out now. I'm sorry to leave early, but I can't keep my eyes open. If I don't leave and make camp now, I might fall asleep walking," she said finishing with a yawn.
Alistair couldn't believe that Rosalyn really would be exhausted so soon, but when he looked at Jareth, the mage was staring at Rosalyn full of concern. That was a situation Alistair needed to pay close attention to. It seemed the mage knew something.
"I'm sorry, my king, but I must take leave," Rosalyn said.
"Please stay the night and leave tomorrow. It is very late already and you've had some wine."
Desperate to keep her there with him for the night, he begged.
He leaned in towards her, wanting access to her ear. "Please, Rosalyn, please stay." He used his bedroom voice, knowing she would be hard pressed to deny him.
He was waiting for her stubbornness to kick in. No, I'll be fine. I'll leave now. Don't worry about me.
Instead she said, "Just for the night. I'll leave first thing in the morning."
He couldn't believe his ears.
"Would you like to continue dancing, or would you like to see your room? Perhaps a nice warm bath?"
She gave him an uneasy smile. "The last sounds most agreeable."
He nodded, called over a servant, and gave the orders. Rosalyn turned around, asking Oghren and Jareth what they wanted to do. They told her they would stay out at the party for a while longer before heading to bed.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she told them and received two chuckles in response. Throwing a wink over her shoulder, she began walking off with the servant.
As soon as their commander was gone, Jareth walked over to the nearest server grabbing the bottle of wine off his tray. As the man began to protest, the mage said, "The king told me it was fine."
The servant looked at Alistair waiting approval. Alistair nodded while listening to the two discuss their plans.
"So, Rosalyn said we couldn't do anything she wouldn't. But she did showcase her talent tonight, didn't she?" Jareth said to Oghren.
"She did," Oghren replied while chuckling. "It would be rude of us not to do the same."
Alistair watched as Oghren unsheathed his axe, walking some distance away from Jareth.
The mage gulped down the wine, waiting for the dwarf to be in position.
"Come on, you prissy skirt wearing mage. Give me all you got."
Jareth finishing the bottle, threw it to the corner of the room. The sound of glass shattering could be heard as he turned his attention to Oghren. "You know you shouldn't taunt me. It hasn't worked out well for you in the past," Jareth said, a fireball conjuring in his palm.
"Maybe I would be afraid if your aim wasn't worse than a little girl's!" Oghren barked back, his sword in hand.
As Jareth pulled back his arm, readying to release the fire, Alistair stepped forward.

"Jareth, why don't you use ice instead? If you burn down the palace, we'll have nowhere to sleep tonight. Although if you're interested in burning down the throne room later, I'm all for it. It'd be a real pity if I couldn't hold court for a while."
The mage extinguished the fire in his hand, beginning to work on an ice ball.
"Care to join, your Majesty?" Jareth asked.
Alistair had been bored to tears around the palace lately. Unable to resist, he grabbed a sword from a nearby guard. "Don't mind if I do."
Alistair moved towards Oghren preparing for the incoming attack. Jareth stared at the king, smirking the entire time.
As Jareth released the ice ball, Oghren quickly smashed it with his axe. "Are you even trying there, mage?"
"Don't worry, I'm just getting warmed up," Jareth replied, ice balls forming in both his hands.
As he was about to release them, Anora stepped forward. "What is going on here?" she asked in a calm voice that still caused the men to cringe.
Only she could speak softly and cause men to grimace, Alistair thought.
"Anora, we were just having a little practice. That's all," Alistair said.
The queen ignored her husband, turning to Jareth. "If the Wardens are staying here tonight, it's best they are escorted to their rooms for a good night's rest. I would not wish them to be travelling tomorrow weary."

Jareth and Oghren both turned to Alistair and he nodded wordlessly. Anora was going to be agitated enough with Rosalyn staying the night, a situation that had never happened before. It was best not to push things. In public, Alistair always supported Anora and vice versa. They always showed a united front. What happened behind closed doors, however, was an entirely different matter.

Alistair raised his hand for two servants to come over, and the two Wardens were shown to their rooms.
Alistair was now determined to see the ball end soon. Some noblemen were well past intoxicated, so he had his guards begin putting them in their carriages. The ones that were inebriated with no apparent transportation were put up for the night at the Gnawed Noble Tavern on the king's silver. The room was close to cleared out.
"Fergus," Alistair said, "why don't you stay here the night? You know I've always viewed you like family."
It was common knowledge that no one stayed in the palace after balls or events unless they were advisors or relatives. Eamon had thought it was a bad precedent to set allowing people to stay. All of the nobility would get too drunk to walk just to have a stay in the Royal Palace.
Fergus nodded before whispering, "You're a good man. Take care of her, Alistair."
Alistair held up his hand and summoned another servant. He gave her orders that whatever Teyrn Cousland should desire, he should receive. The stout woman nodded and stared at Fergus lasciviously. Leliana was also shown to a room, Alistair trying to make amends for not spending much time speaking to her. He would have to think of a way to make it up to her tomorrow.
Alistair walked over to Eamon. "So, should we expect Lady Isolde back from visiting the tower soon?"
"Yes, she should be back soon. She has been spoiling the boy, buying him new shoes, new robes, sweets, books. She feels she has few opportunities to overindulge Connor, so when she can, she does."
"I think that's the nature of mothers. Come, Eamon, the guards will take you home. Things should be back to normal when she and Wynne return. I know Wynne is finishing up the arrangements after the First Enchanter's passing, so it should be no longer than a week before they return."
"Yes, the flowers we sent were very nice, your Majesty. So was the donation," Eamon replied.
Alistair nodded. "I needed to remind the Circle how appreciative I was of them taking care of my cousin."
Eamon nodded and his gratitude was apparent in his eyes. The guards began escorting Eamon to his estate, as Alistair turned to find Anora's hand maiden attending to her. Knowing he could finally escape, Alistair began walking down the long corridor to Rosalyn's room. As he kept himself from running, each guard bowed his head as Alistair passed, saying, "Your Majesty." As he neared her door, Alistair watched Jareth slip out of her room wordlessly.
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