June 6, 2026

Chapter Thirteen: Blood

Previously: Anora
 
Fergus Cousland numbly walked the palace gardens. It was a chilly spring evening, and already getting dark. Behind him, he could hear servants lighting torches. In a distant courtyard, he could hear guards practicing their drills.
 
In his youth, he'd longed for this. He imagined that some day he'd be a very important man at the Royal Palace. He'd have a dutiful wife at home in the country, and a beautiful young mistress by his side at court.
 
But then fate handed him a wife he grew to love and respect, and a child he treasured more than his own life. And just easily as fate gifted him these people, it ripped them both away. Now he was without his wife, his son, and his youth, standing alone in the royal gardens.
 
The Maker doesn't give with both hands, Fergus soberly reminded himself.
 
Darkness fell as two moons rose in the heavens, bathing the land in ghostly light. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the cold air. It stilled him, calmed him, and kept him from screaming.
 
"The things we do to keep from going mad."
 
Fergus's eyes flew open. He turned around to see a slender blond woman with pale skin and blue eyes. She was clearly noble, dressed in the Fereldan fashion, but other than that, he had no idea who she was.
 
"I'm sorry?" he asked.
 
She chuckled softly. Her voice was low, and slightly husky. "You wouldn't believe how many times I used to come out here in the dead of winter. I had to order the servants not to follow me, on pain of death."
 
Fergus blinked, not sure where this was going. "Forgive me, Lady...?"
 
"Anora," she introduced herself, eyes twinkling.
 
His eyes widened and he started to bow, but immediately stopped himself. She grinned at him.
 
"That's right," she mused. "I am Queen no more. I'm not even a lady, according to His Majesty's latest royal decree. I am merely Anora of Gwaren, and nothing more." She took a few steps toward him. "But you, my Lord Fergus, are Teyrn of Highever." She bowed exquisitely. "Your Grace."
 
Fergus's breath caught in his chest. He'd heard bards sing of her beauty. He had dreamed of this moment for years, and now that he was here, he had no idea what to say.
 
"Lady Anora --"
 
"Please," she said, slightly raising a hand. "Just Anora."
 
"Anora," Fergus began again, noting how her name felt wrong in his mouth. "I had heard the King decided to release you, but I didn't think he'd actually do it."
 
"Nor did I," she admitted. "Though, 'released' is a rather broad term, my lord. I cannot leave the palace grounds. I am to be followed no matter where I go. I do not have a retinue, and I have to make do with living in a single room."
 
Fergus looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, two arm guards stood not far away.
 
"Walk with me, my lord," she invited him, whimsically linking her arm with his. "I'll give you a tour of all the places where I used to scream and tear out my hair."
 
***

Margeria was sitting down by the fire in her bedchamber, attempting to embroider to soothe her nerves. Settling in to Fereldan royal life was proving even more difficult than she anticipated. There was tension between the soon-to-be royal couple. It was subtle for now, but left unresolved it would trigger gossip at court.
 
And then there was the matter of her nephew and niece. Fergus seemed to be avoiding her while Elissa was sending an elf to establish Margeria's household.

Normally, she found elves sullen and tight-lipped. Behind their silence, their eyes smoldered with rage. Unlike her fellow nobles, Margeria normally employed human servants. She felt human servants were slightly less likely than elves to slit her throat in her sleep.
 
And yet... this handmaiden seemed different. She was calm and perfectly poised. She was beautiful, with dark brown skin and jet black hair. Her hair was braided and adorned with gold. Such was her comportment that Margeria hadn't known for a fact she was a servant, she would have mistaken her for a princess.
 
"What is your name?" Margeria asked. She spoke without looking up. She hadn't embroidered in a long while and struggled to remember some of the basics.
 
"Kallian, my lady," the elf replied. Her voice was soft and low. Like her eyes, her voice betrayed nothing.
 
"You are from the Alienage, I presume?"
 
"Yes, my lady."
 
"And how long have you worked at the palace?" Margeria inquired.
 
"Just over a year, my lady."
 
"My niece says you have been indispensable, and now she offers you to me." The older woman snorted. "How generous of her."
 
"The Arlessa has authorized me to assign whatever maids and pages you require for your household," Kallian told her.
 
"Can you organize a private gathering for me?"
 
"Of course, my lady."
 
"Excellent," Margeria said, still not looking up. "Find my nephew and kindly remind him that I have been at court for three days now, yet he has not come to see me. I want us to have dinner, preferably as soon as possible. Even my niece says he's been unavailable of late."
 
"Certainly, my lady," Kallian said, nodding. "He's been meeting with Lady Anora for tea in the gardens."
 
Margeria's fingers stilled on her needle. She finally looked at the elf. "He's been what?"
 
***
 
Arlessa Isolde was well aware this wasn't her family, and didn't want to get too involved in their dynamics. But the fact remained that her family had sacrificed much so the Couslands and the last Theirin could ascend. She had to make her concerns known.
 
"Not to offend, my lady," she said, pouring herself some wine at the refreshments table, "but what is your brother thinking?" She returned to her seat by the fire where Elissa sat, her war hound snoring softly at her feet.
 
The future Queen opened her mouth to speak, but her aunt beat her to it.
 
"He's thinking with his smaller head," Margeria snapped. She was standing in the middle of the room, fuming. "As so many of these useless men do."
 
"But surely, he would not dare," the Orlesian insisted, her accent light and raspy. "Anora has no title, no rank, no lands or coin. She is all but a prisoner in this palace. Is she even allowed to marry?"
 
Elissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to remind herself that Alistair was a good man, a kind man with a strong sense of fairness.
 
But she also remembered he was painfully naive.
 
"She's still young," Elissa sighed. "And pretty. And some of the nobles still like her. My brother has to think about his future, and our family's legacy. Highever needs heirs, and knowing Fergus, he doesn't want to breed with just anyone."
 
Margeria looked like she was about to vomit. "Her father supported the traitor who killed my sister, and now Fergus seeks to mix our blood with theirs? Mierda!" She glared at Elissa. "You must forbid this union. As bride to a King, you outrank him. You can threaten him with exile if he continues to pursue this nonsense!"
 
Isolde nodded in agreement. "The fact Anora even breathes is problem enough. There are many who still believe she should be Queen. She knows that it is nearly impossible for two Grey Wardens to produce children, and she's counting on your infertility."
 
"I know," Elissa said, nodding. "If she gives my brother a son, everyone will assume the boy will be our next king, and she could rule through that king." She paused, smiling ruefully. "Not everybody cares about Theirin blood as much as Eamon."
 
"Then we must find someone better suited," Margeria declared. "Out of all these noblewomen in Ferelden and Orlais --"
 
"It's not just about nobility," Isolde said, shaking her head. "Fergus clearly does not care about titles. His late wife had no title, but she was wealthy. Anora has no titles, but she has political currency. We need a woman that he would find more politically desirable than her."
 
Margeria eyed her warily. "Do we know anyone like that?" 
 
Elissa's eyes widened as realization slowly dawned. "As a matter of fact I do," she said. "She lives right here in Denerim." She turned to Isolde. "And she will require all of your talents."
 
***
 
 
 
Things had been strained between Alistair and Elissa for days. They still shared their meals and discussed the Blight and other important matters, but he could tell things were different between them. She was even more standoffish than usual, as though she couldn't trust him anymore.
 
It cut deeply to think that Elissa lost faith in him, but he couldn't back down, not on this. He didn't agree to become King simply to do her or Eamon's bidding. He had his own vision for Ferelden, and he wanted them to respect that.
 
Besides, if I let her make all the decisions, we'll run out of spikes, Alistair cringed.
 
Thankfully, she seemed to be in a happier mood. They were back at court, sitting on their thrones, waiting to deal with the business of the day. She didn't say anything, but he could detect a definite shift in her mood.
 
"Arlessa Isolde of Redcliffe."
 
Alistair's head snapped towards the double doors, confused. As a member of his inner circle, Isolde had direct access to him. She didn't need to make an appointment in open court.
 
The doors opened and the blond Orlesian entered, accompanied by a familiar face. Alistair stared, speechless, refusing to believe his own eyes.
 
Isolde smiled brightly as she approached the dais and bowed. "Your Majesty, may I introduce --"
 
"Goldanna," the King murmured, dazed. "You don't have to introduce my own sister to me."
 
The nobles assembled began whispering feverishly. Fergus, who stood to the right of Alistair, looked stunned.
 
And sitting next to Alistair, Elissa smirked.
 
To be fair, Goldanna was a fairly decent beauty... once Isolde bathed and braided her, and put her in some clean clothes. The dress wasn't particularly fancy, and was just barely good enough for court. But Goldanna had no status... until now.
 
"Hello, sister," Alistair greeted softly, carefully masking his tension.
 
The laundress shifted from one foot to another. "Hello, brother."
 
Isolde gently cleared her throat.
 
"Your Majesty," Goldanna grumbled, before bowing awkwardly.
 
"What brings you to the Royal Palace?" the King asked, sounding rather blunt.
 
"Your betrothed summoned me," his sister replied. Alistair looked at Elissa, who simply smiled.
 
"It pleases me greatly to see you here," Elissa said, grinning. "As you know, your brother and I are to wed, and I would like to formally invite you to be one of my bridesmaids."
 
Both siblings' eyes widened, looking at each other, then Elissa, then back at each other.
 
"Of course, my lady," Goldanna gasped. Alistair squirmed on his throne.
 
"Very well, then," he said, fighting the bile in his throat. "Goldanna of Denerim, I hereby welcome you to court." 
 
 

Chapter Twelve: Anora

Previously: Playing Our Parts
 
Fergus Cousland couldn't believe his eyes when Orlando of Bastion walked into his study.
 
"Brother," Fergus gasped, eyes wide and threatening to water. He immediately rounded his desk to embrace his brother-in-law. "How can this be?"
 
Orlando granted him a lukewarm smile. "Your aunt, Margeria, is the new Antivan Ambassador. I volunteered to accompany her." Like his late sister, Orlando had a very thick accent.
 
"Where are you staying?" Fergus asked. "If you like, you can board with me. The King has granted me this suite of rooms."
 
"I would like nothing more," came the weary reply, "but my duties require that I remain by the Ambassador's side." His eyes narrowed slightly as his tone darkened. "Can't have anymore of our noblewomen dying."

June 5, 2026

Chapter Eleven: Playing Our Parts

Previously: I Can Do Blood

"You look ridiculous."

Elissa Cousland tugged at her collar. It was high and tight around her neck. Her gown was black and flowing, the bodice taut with long sleeves.
 
She grumbled, "These are Antivan mourning clothes. What's your excuse? You look like a goblet."
 
Alistair glanced down at his robes. For some reason, Isolde insisted in dressing him primarily in gold. Coupled with burgundy accents, the ensembled echoed his brother's armor. And despite understanding the homage, he still felt ridiculous.

Chapter Ten: I Can Do Blood

Previously: Landsmeet
 
They circled each other for several moments, their footsteps immaculately balanced. Fergus's stomach was in knots, but Elissa? Elissa was perfectly calm.
 
When Loghain struck first, swinging his giant sword, she dodged nimbly, almost like a dancer. In fact, she dodged the first several strikes with ease, not bothering to parry or thrust. Fergus thought he might be imagining things, but it seemed as though...
 
"She's toying with him," Alistair said grimly, as if he were reading Fergus's thoughts.
 
Indeed, she was toying with the older warrior, like a cat with prey. She ducked and weaved and spun on her heels, circling Loghain over and over until he became visibly frustrated.
 
She's a Grey Warden. Fergus didn't understand why it had taken him so long to understand this. It suddenly occurred to him he'd never truly seen a Warden in action. He'd never even seen a darkspawn, and yet on her first hunt, Elissa killed three of them on her own.
 
Fergus's eyes widened. The old man never stood a chance.

June 4, 2026

Chapter Nine: Landsmeet

 
10th of Drakonis, 9:31 Dragon
 
My dearest brother Teagann,
 
We have arrived in Denerim safe and sound, hard as that is to believe. I was certain Loghain would send assassins, but moving in secret worked to our advantage.
 
I called the Landsmeet before we left, and other nobles have begun arriving in the capital. Loghain pretended to be unimpressed and even amused by our claim, but I can tell he's uneasy. Rumor has it he's even gone so far as to lock up his own daughter when she challenged his regency.
 
And speaking of Anora, I can already tell she's going to be a problem. She wants the throne, same as her father. She has openly boasted of having successfully run the country for years. When an arl from the south suggested she marry Alistair for the sake of unity, she shot the idea down immediately.

June 3, 2026

Chapter Eight: Once and Future King

 
Elissa Cousland blinked, waking. She'd been at Redcliffe Castle for a few days now and was still struggling to get used to the warmth of her bedroom, the cozy softness of her bed. She'd been sleeping on grass, rocks, and hard beds for so long that comfort now seemed unnatural.
 
Her brother had to remind her to call the maids for a bath each morning, and to brush her hair. She drew the line at wearing gowns or even perfume, however. The ever vigilant Warden insisted that gowns were less practical for fighting, and that perfume made her easier to track.
 
Elissa hated the quiet. It forced her to think about all the things she'd rather forget -- trekking for endless hours in the wild, riding in a smelly caravan, traveling for weeks without a proper bath or a satisfying meal. And death... she was tired of death. Tired of losing fellow Wardens, and even tired of watching the light fade from her enemies' eyes.

May 13, 2026

Chapter Seven: Matters of the Heart


It was hard to explain what Alistair felt when he saw Elissa. When she first strode into the great hall, she was like some sort of thunder goddess, accompanied by her unkillable hound. Their entrance shook the room, and it was like being struck by lightning. All of him was awake, alive. Even his fingertips were tingling.

His breath caught in his chest as he headed to the kitchens. For a moment there, he feared he'd actually faint.
 
He couldn't say what it was. He wasn't sure. He didn't know if it was love, lust, worship, or all three. Elissa had a way about her, commanding fear and awe in equal measure. When they'd first met, her training already surpassed his. And despite being the senior Warden in their party, everyone naturally deferred to her, including Alistair.
 
In battle, she had no rival. In decision-making, she brooked no hesitation. Her conviction was unyielding.

Chapter Six: Shadows of Highever

 
"Alistair, my friend," Fergus chuckled, shaking his head, "you are a terrible chess player."
 
"I didn't learn to play until I joined the Chantry!" the young Warden protested. "Need I remind you once again that I didn't have a noble upbringing?"
 
It was early winter's afternoon at Redcliffe Castle. They were sitting in the great hall, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the grandeur of the room. There were guards and servants present, so they couldn't speak openly about Alistair's parentage. Rather than press the issue, Fergus began to reset the board.
 
"Then I have much to teach you," he said. "I've been playing since I was six."
 
"How nice for you," Alistair replied, scowling slightly. "I was already working in the stables."

Chapter Five: Secrets of Redcliffe

Previously: Letters
 
"She's wintering at Soldier's Peak?" Alistair asked, blinking. He shivered. "I wish I could be there for her -- well, not there, exactly. I can only imagine the cold." He stabbed his fork into his mutton and began to cut it with a knife. "And don't get me started on the food."
 
Fergus Cousland offered a weak smile. These days, he took comfort in the oddly cheerful young Warden, even though he wasn't entirely sure what to make of him.
 
It was a ritual of theirs, dining together every evening in Fergus's room. As an honored guest, he was granted a suite of rooms. The Guerrin family was not as wealthy as the Couslands had been, and their castle was not as fine. But seeing as Fergus was cut off from his own resources, he was in no position to complain.

Chapter Four: Letters

Previously: Fall
 
5th of Justinian, 9:30 Dragon
 
My dearest brother,
 
I arrived in Ostagar after our castle fell to Arl Howe and his men. Duncan and I looked for you at once, but they said you were lost on a scouting mission. I wept for you, as I did for Mother, Father, Oren, and Oriana.
 
With the demon hordes drawing close, my Warden training began. Duncan entrusted me to a junior Warden named Alistair. He took me and two other recruits out into the wilds to hunt darkspawn as part of our initiation.
 
I don't know if you've ever seen darkspawn, but I can say they are indeed nightmare made flesh. They stank of blood and rot, and the unholy noises they made chilled my bones.
 
I  personally slew three of them. 

Chapter Three: Fall

Previously: Beauty
 
"When I first came home," Dairren confessed, as Elissa led him through the endless halls of Castle Cousland, "everything seemed smaller. Mother's carriage, my father's country estate... but I must say, your family castle is as massive as ever."
 
"How long were you in Orlais?" Elissa asked, walking slowly. She didn't want the conversation to end too soon. Dairren was the first and only boy to ever hold a special place in her heart, and now he was a man fully grown.