Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

"Quit fidgeting," Elissa said shortly, watching as Arl Eamon's squire once again lost his grip upon the buckle he was attempting to fasten.

"You say that as though you didn't hover for an hour before deciding which gown to wear," Alistair snorted, but he obediently stood still. From his seat on one of the settees before the hearth, Fergus snorted.

"That will be quite enough from you, brother," Elissa said with ill humor, rising from her perch at the edge of the bed to pace restlessly.

"And she tells me not to fidget," she heard Alistair grumble. Louder, he asked, "Are you certain I should be wearing Cailan's armor? Wouldn't the armor we found at Soldier's Peak place more of an emphasis on the fact that I'm a Grey Warden and there's a Blight going on?"

"It might," Elissa said, "but then if Loghain makes his case convincingly enough, it might also add credence to his accusations that the Grey Wardens are grasping for power. No, we want to portray you as Cailan's natural successor, and play upon your clear resemblance to the Theirin rulers of the past."

"Of course. How silly of me. Why worry about the Blight when we can bicker over the bloody throne?" he asked acerbically to no one in particular.

"It's not just that," Elissa said, crossing to him and touching his face softly. "We need the Landsmeet to see you as our leader. Fereldans don't follow the Grey Wardens, they follow the Theirin dynasty. If the Theirin king throws his support to the Grey Wardens, the nobility will fall in line, but the first hurdle is making certain they see you in that role."

"And what role are you supposed to be playing today?"

"They'll never accept me as a general or war leader, no matter what I've accomplished since Ostagar." It galled her more than she liked to admit that. She had come so far, done so very much, and yet it didn't matter. If she tried to put herself forward as the one who would lead them against the Blight, they would flock to Loghain's side rather than follow a woman who looked like she could--or actually could--give birth at any moment. "So I will be putting a gentler, more vulnerable face upon the tragedy of the civil war and the looming danger of the Blight. Let them believe it's you who have brought us this far. Let them see me as fragile and in need of protection; it will only make the tales of Loghain's atrocities and the losses we've endured that much more poignant."

"That hardly seems fair," Alistair complained. "You did all the work and I'm going to get all the credit."

"Politics is a game of perception," Elissa and Fergus intoned together. She gestured to her brother to complete the thought.

"What Elissa has done or hasn't done won't matter if they don't see her as being capable of leading us against the Blight," Fergus explained. "Some of them are old enough to remember their mothers and sisters wielding bows in the back ranks of the archers' corps against the Orlesians, and more than a few of those women were likely with child while they were doing it. But that was long ago and we've been at peace since then, with the luxury of pampering and coddling our noblewomen. Some still study martial theory and get training when they wish, yes, but more and more we expect them to be delicate flowers. My wife was from Antiva, and there it was unheard of for a noblewoman to go to war, and Ferelden seems to be adopting that sort of mentality. There are those who never saw what the women did during the occupation. And then there are those would just rather forget and cling to a gentler way of living. So, unless they want a tapestry embroidered, they're going to look for someone who isn't pregnant to perform the task. Even if it means following a madman."

"Besides," Elissa sighed, "the truth is I can't continue to lead us. Not this close to the babe's coming. Perhaps once I'm delivered and healed, yes, but we don't know we have that sort of time when the south has already fallen. The archdemon gets stronger in our dreams every day. Riordan says its coming. We need to move against the Blight now. We don't have a matter of weeks."

She looked over at Fergus. "Has Anora already left for the Landsmeet?"

"I believe her intention was to go back to the palace once the Landsmeet began and she'd be sure not to run into Loghain. She’ll change her gown, and meet us there in time to make a dramatic entrance," Fergus answered. He'd spent the better part of the last two days charming the queen to keep her satisfied with the notion that the Wardens were going to support her bid for the throne, under the rationale that he was a better liar than Alistair and also a more practiced courtier.

"Very well," Elissa nodded. "All the better if we can keep her from encountering Alistair until after she supports us in the Landsmeet. If she sees him beforehand in Cailan's armor, with Maric's sword in hand, she's going to suspect he intends to claim the throne for himself."

The squire finished with the last buckle and made a silent exit, and Alistair turned a worried gaze to Elissa. "Are we sure we're doing the right thing?"

"This is your choice, Alistair. If you want to cede the throne to Anora, I’ll support you."

Alistair closed his eyes, almost prayerfully. When he opened them again, he had that determined look she knew so well. "No. This is what I decided upon. It's what's best for the Grey Wardens, maybe even what's best for Ferelden. It may not necessarily be what's best for me but I'm getting used to the idea. It might even be interesting. I can do this. Especially with you... helping me."

A look of sorrow crossed his face as he spoke the last, and Elissa bit her lip nervously. Two days had passed since that night Alistair had returned from the Alienage, and they had not discussed the issue that had caused them to quarrel before they had arrived in Denerim. It hovered there between them, unspoken yet always present, since he had decided he would accept the crown. She knew he wanted to press the point but wasn't sure he could. He was resolved enough that he would be king alone if he had to be, but it clearly wasn't his first choice.

Elissa closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. She should not have waited until just before the Landsmeet to discuss this with him. If the discussion went badly, it could be disastrous. And yet....

"Fergus, could you wait by the carriage for us?" she asked softly.

"Of course, pup," her brother nodded, leaving the room, and closing the door behind him.

Elissa rose to face Alistair, smoothing her hands nervously down the front of the green and gold damask bodice that covered her saffron silk kirtle and the high waist of her dark red overskirts. "We need to talk, my love, about what we're going to do after you take the throne."

---

If Fergus wondered why Elissa emerged from the bedchamber first with tears in her eyes, or why Alistair followed her some minutes later with a look of stern resolution on his face, he tactfully didn't ask.

Beside her brother, only Wynne accompanied them to the Landsmeet, as she could testify about the events in the Circle Tower and the fact that Loghain appeared to have encouraged Uldred's rebellion. Elissa wanted to bring all her people, but she knew it would be perceived as threatening. Sten was too foreign and intimidating, Morrigan too temperamental, Oghren too crass and Shale too disdainful of squishy flesh-and-blood creatures and therefore likely to say the most impolitic thing at precisely the wrong moment. Leliana would only serve as evidence of Loghain's mad claims of Orlesian conspiracy, and the presence of an assassin would send the wrong message entirely.

They were looking to reassure the Landsmeet that they were competent leaders with Ferelden's best interests in mind, not startle them with the wild collection of misfits they had gathered. Beside Wynne, the only other companion who came along was her mabari, since nothing said true Fereldan citizen like the presence of a faithful hound at one's side.

Perception was indeed everything.

Somehow it hadn't occurred to her, after the way Loghain allowed her to walk out of Fort Drakon, that he would make a last attempt to stop her from attending the Landsmeet, but the presence of Ser Cauthrien at the doors to the Landsmeet chamber quickly corrected that assumption.

"Warden. I am not surprised it has come to this," she said, and there was something dark and reluctant in her eyes. She was not happy with the job she was assigned to do.

"I beg you to stand aside, Ser Cauthrien," Elissa said softly. "Do not add to Loghain's atrocities by preventing the rightful admittance to the Landsmeet of the children of the Teyrn of Highever and the heir to the Fereldan throne."

"If Alistair was worthy of being called Maric's son, he would already be in the Landsmeet."

"My fitness as my father's son is not for you to decide," Alistair countered, and Elissa felt a moment of pride at his composure. "That matter is for the Landsmeet alone and I’ll face their judgment."

"You have torn this land apart to oppose my lord!" Cauthrien said desperately. "You've never once understood why he is a hero to Ferelden!"

"Was a hero," Elissa corrected, her voice harsher and more ragged than she would have liked. "But the actions your lord undertook at Ostagar and at Fort Drakon while you looked on and did nothing were not the actions of a hero! Yes, once Loghain was a great man who did great things for our nation. But he has become something else entirely. Surely you must see this!"

The knight looked stricken. She clenched her jaw, as though waging some great internal battle. "I... admit I have had my doubts, lately," she finally confessed. "His hatred of Orlais has become an obsession. It has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, but I owe him everything."

"Madness will not save us from the Blight," Elissa said gently. "I am not the one who has torn Fereden apart. You've seen what Loghain is capable of doing. Will you be a party to it, ser knight?"

"You ask me to betray my lord," the knight cried hopelessly.

"I ask you to do nothing but stand aside and let us bring the matter before the justice of the Landsmeet."

Cauthrien raised her dark eyes to Elissa. “I am... sorry for what was done to you at Fort Drakon, Warden," she said. "My duty has never tasted so bitter as it did upon that day. Go, then, and stop him. Stop him from betraying everything he once loved, if you can."

The knight stood aside, bowing as they passed. Her heart thundered in her chest as they approached the great doors of the Landsmeet chamber. Within she could hear voices shouting in passionate argument, Arl Eamon's the loudest amongst them. Drawing a deep, calming breath, she faced the majordomo and gave him their names and their purpose for wishing to speak to the Landsmeet. The massive doors swung wide and allowed them entrance as the majordomo's booming voice announced their entry in the prescribed ceremonial verbiage.

"My lords and ladies! Teyrn Fergus Cousland of Highever! The Grey Warden, Lady Elissa Cousland of Highever! The Grey Warden, Alistair Theirin! Enchanter Wynne, of the Circle of Magi! These petitioners come before you seeking the justice of the Landsmeet! By the Maker's grace, may they be heard and judged with wisdom."

The voices that had been raised in debate fell silent as they entered, and a slow murmur of speculation began to swell in their place as they took in Alistair's, resplendent in Cailan's golden armor, and Elissa's protruding belly and wallowing gait. Only a few of the faces were familiar: Arl Bryland, who gave her an encouraging smile; Bann Alfstanna, looking stern and competent in her leather armor rather than court dress; Bann Sighard, who actually bowed to them as they passed.

Elissa flinched as she heard a familiar voice yell out, its strange sensuality lost in bitter sneer. "Ah! And here we have the puppeteer! This profligate girl plys the Cousland trade well, as we can all see. Tell us, 'Warden,' how will the Orlesians steal our nation from us? Will they deign to send troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince as you pull him along by his... lead?"

There was a part of Elissa that wanted to answer him hotly, decry his slander and fling accusations back at him, but she stopped herself. She was to play the serene and delicate girl, wrongly accused. She was to make them want to defend her against his bullying and make his wild accusations seem mad compared with her calm and quiet reason.

"You prattle about the Orlesians, Loghain, while the darkspawn overtake our nation," she said, calmly, ignoring his insinuation. "The Blight is the threat we face here, a threat from which you have distracted us, to the ruin of a great deal of our noble land."

"As evidenced by the refugees pouring into my bannorn every day," Bann Alfstanna agreed.

"The south has fallen, Loghain!" Arl Wulff cried. "Even this chit can see that, while you just rant endlessly about Orlais. Will you let the darkspawn take the whole country?"

"It is not the reality of the Blight that I doubt, Wulff," Loghain replied. "Only claims that we need Grey Wardens to fight it. They say they alone can defeat the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly at Ostagar. Of course, we can all see why fighting the darkspawn may have been of secondary importance to this one," he jeered with a dismissive wave of his hand at Elissa. A discontented grumbling arose at his vulgar implication, but she couldn’t be certain if they were offended by her, or his words.

"Perhaps you were the one preoccupied at Ostagar, Loghain," Fergus answered with cold fury. "After all, it must have been a terrible burden, plotting the demise of so many of your political rivals all at once, such as the poisoning of Arl Eamon by an apostate you employed before you ever left for Ostagar. Then, of course, there is the matter of Rendon Howe's attack on Highever, which resulted in the deaths of all my family, save my sister. Even down to my six-year-old son."

Indignant gasps and mutters followed that news. Though they had known the Couslands had been killed, few had considered the innocents that had been murdered as well.

Loghain shrugged. "I cannot see any great ill in Howe ridding Ferelden of a whoring clan of Orlesian conspirators."

"The Couslands were no such thing!" Arl Bryland shouted angrily. "I stood beside Bryce Cousland against Orlais and he fought just as hard for the freedom of Ferelden as you did, Loghain! They were true Fereldans, loyal and honorable to the last!"

"Yes," Loghain drawled, looking pointedly at Elissa. "We can all see just how honorable the Couslands are. But it is of no matter. Their rivalry with Howe has nothing to do with our discussion here today."

"It does if you set Howe upon the task," Fergus countered. “I spent many months in Howe's dungeons. He was most forthcoming about whose idea it was to kill my father, and Bann Alfstanna’s brother can testify to your involvement in Arl Eamon’s attempted murder."

"Seen in that light," Bryland interjected, "your actions at Ostagar raise troubling questions, Loghain. One might think you were clearing the way for a bid for the throne. Did you even attempt to defend the king?"

"The king allowed himself to be seduced by the Grey Wardens and their tales of griffons flying into battle," Loghain argued. "I saved the lives of as many troops as I could once I saw the battle was lost. No one regrets the death of Maric's son, my king, more than I do."

"Do you also regret imprisoning and torturing Fereldan citizens?" Elissa asked sharply. "My brother was not the only nobleman freed from Howe's dungeon."

"The Warden speaks the truth!" Bann Sighard shouted. "My son was taken under cover of night as he searched for a man who reported being ordered to leave the field at Ostagar before King Cailan fell. Oswyn will be fortunate to walk again."

"Howe was responsible for himself," Loghain declared, pacing agitatedly. "He will answer to the Maker for his actions, as must we all."

"And will you answer to the Maker for selling Fereldan citizens into slavery?" Alistair asked, his voice cold but steady.

Loghain's face darkened with rage as a new outcry erupted, led by Bann Sighard. The muttering of the gathered nobles grew uglier as the regent was forced to attempt to justify his actions in the Alienage.

Loghain paused until he had their attention. "What of you, Warden? What have you done to save this land? Whatever Bryland may claim, we all know the tales about the Couslands. Stories of wild debaucheries from Redcliffe and all across Ferelden have reached us here in Denerim. You claim to be defending our land from the Blight, but one wonders when you've found the time."

"The Warden saved Redcliffe Village," Teagan spoke firmly, stepping up to stand beside Eamon. "I was there. She saved my sister-in-law and nephew when she might have let either of them die, saved my brother from Loghain's assassination attempt. I will vouch for her conduct."

"We have provided incontrovertible proof of your crimes, Loghain," Elissa said, lifting her chin proudly. "Yet all you can do is fling slanderous gossip about my family and unsubstantiated accusations of lewd conduct. Have you no proof of your own to provide?"

"Proof?" Loghain chuckled, a rude, knowing sound. "Shall I testify for the Landsmeet then, Warden, and tell them the things you said to me that day at Fort Drakon? The things you begged me to do?"

Elissa stared at him a moment, unwilling to believe he’d actually opened that door. Did he believe he could smear her character enough to justify his actions that day?

"The day you tortured me, you mean," she clarified, sounding anything but calm. She made a deliberate show of stroking her belly, attempting to look innocent and aggrieved as another low rumble began to build in the crowd. "The day you suspended me by my wrists, so that I could not even shift my stance to ease the weight of my babe off my back?"

The grumbling grew louder.

She made no effort to stop the gleam of tears that came to her eyes as she recalled what had passed in the dungeon. Damn them all, she would play the victim if that was what it took to stop him. "The day you pierced my flesh with silver spikes? The day you threatened to have me flayed with a whip? The day you vowed to have King Maric's son killed if I disobeyed your lewd commands? If that is the day you speak of, Loghain, then I submit to the Landsmeet that I spoke naught but the words my captor demanded of me as the price for our freedom and the safety of my child."

"That is not how it happened!" Loghain protested, concern touching his eyes as horrified voices demanded he answer the charges she laid against him. "I have a witness to the confessions you made that day, Warden, a witness to just how unfit you are to guide Ferelden through this conflict!"

Loghain raised his hand and Ser Cauthrien came forth, looking troubled. "Tell the Landsmeet what you witnessed that day, Cauthrien."

The knight closed her eyes for a long moment, then looked around the Landsmeet chamber. "Twice," she said slowly, "did the Warden speak without first being bidden to do so by the regent. The first time, she requested water to wash herself after the regent allowed his men to defile her. The second time," Ser Cauthrien paused, waiting for the stunned gasps and outcries to fade. Once they had, she drew a deep breath in the waiting silence. "The second time she begged the regent not to harm her babe when he threatened to let a mage stop its heart."

Loghain's eyes bulged with disbelief as he stared at his trusted knight, and Cauthrien bowed her head miserably. “Forgive me, my lord,” she said so softly only Elissa and Loghain could hear. “But there must be an end to this madness.”

"This is an outrage, Loghain!" Arl Bryland shouted. "You would abuse a young noblewoman, and she with child? Whatever improprieties the girl may or may not have committed, this cannot stand! If this girl isn't safe from your insanity, none of our children are!"

It was a bitter victory to see them all turn against him as they did, for it was bought at the cost of her dissemblance. They saw her as fragile and vulnerable, in need of protection. They did not see all she had done, all the long months of danger and toil. But she would play the role to bring him down. She would do it for her family, for Duncan, for Cailan, for her nation torn apart by this man's madness.

She would lie to the Maker himself at the very gates of the Black City to end Loghain.

The entrance of Anora was almost insignificant as the debate devolved into a furor, though Loghain attempted to hurl an accusation of kidnapping at the Grey Wardens. Whether or not the queen would have supported them once she saw Alistair arrayed in Cailan's armor ceased to matter. When Anora realized that the Landsmeet was firmly set against Loghain, she had no choice but to support the Elissa and Alistair if she wanted any chance to keep her throne.

Elissa wasn't sure if she admired the queen for her single-minded determination, or despised her for caring about her crown for more than any person she claimed to love.

"So, the Warden's influence has poisoned even your mind, Anora?" Loghain hunched over for a moment, as though he'd taken a hard physical blow. To be betrayed twice in the space of minutes had thrown him, taken out of him some of the zealous passion that had driven his arguments.

Elissa found she could almost pity him. Almost. There was no room for pity in the churning maelstrom of loathing she felt for him, nor in the screaming demand for justice that reverberated through her mind.

The vote was nearly unanimous against Loghain. Even Bann Ceorlic, the one holdout, looked awkward and uncomfortable when he voted in Loghain's favor. As more and more voices threw their support to her and Alistair, Elissa felt some of the crushing burden of fear lifting from her heart.

"The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain," she said with a genteel calm she did not feel, elation and something she did not dare name warring within her. "Step down."

She could meet Loghain's eyes proudly, she discovered, without the sickening sense of powerlessness threatening to drag her under. And yet it still wasn't enough. Maker help her, she needed to see him destroyed. She was almost relieved when he refused to abide by the judgment of the Landsmeet and called for a duel.

When Loghain faced her again, his affectations of disdain for her were gone, and she could see again what she saw that day in the dungeon, some small hint of admiration or respect.

"I would never have thought it would come to this, that day we met at Ostagar," he said quietly, speaking to her alone as though there was not an entire audience chamber full of people present. She could not help but recall the intimacy of his kisses. "But that seems like it happened in another lifetime. Maric once said to me that a man is made by the quality of his enemies. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me?"

Elissa dropped her eyes as the terms of the duel were declared, uncertain how to respond. She wondered if it might have all been different, had they not positioned themselves as enemies that afternoon at Ostagar when they both spoke so recklessly to one another. Had Loghain not orchestrated the death of her family, had Duncan attempted to work with Loghain to make Cailan see reason rather than allowing him to charge heedlessly against the darkspawn ill-prepared. They might have accomplished great things, the Grey Wardens and Loghain, and spared Ferelden much.

Could she had done aught to prevent this from coming to pass? she wondered.

It didn't matter, she realized with a sigh. She could not undo the past. If she ever wanted to sleep peacefully again, she knew this man who had shamed and humiliated her, who had stripped her of everything that made her feel strong, must die.

"I assume you'll be naming a champion?" Loghain asked with a touch of irony, and Elissa could feel the ripple of amusement that ran through the Landsmeet chamber at her expense.

Once again, it stung her pride, to be discounted so, but she gave him a small, amused smile. "Naturally," she answered. "Alistair Theirin shall be my champion."

Again, a wave of murmurs through the chamber as Alistair stepped forward. "So be it," Loghain said with a touch of disdain. "Let us test the mettle of this would-be king."

As Loghain withdrew to arm and prepare himself, Elissa met Alistair's determined gaze, the bitter taste of fear upon her tongue. "I would beg you not to think of Duncan, or of Fort Drakon, but I know it would be futile. Do not let it make you reckless. You are not Oghren, to harness your rage to devastating effect. We are here for justice, and none will be had if your anger gives you a vulnerability he may exploit."

Alistair nodded grimly and stepped to the center of the chamber, drawing Maric's sword. He looked every inch the young, regal king in that moment, beautiful to behold and deadly of purpose. But Cailan, too, had looked beautiful when she last saw him, striding off toward battle, and Elissa felt her fear would choke her as Loghain and Alistair faced off. Alistair had youth and righteous anger on his side, but Loghain fought with a bitter, desperate fury. The battle seemed to take forever, as both men grew weary, their reactions slower, their breaths beginning to come in great, ragged heaves.

And then somehow, Loghain was on his knees, disarmed and defeated. Alistair did not hesitate. He invoked Duncan’s name and swung his sword one last time and Loghain's headless body crumpled upon the floor of the Landsmeet chamber. The silence was broken only by Anora's soft weeping as she knelt by her father's body, until the majordomo came forth with a corps of ceremonial guards to carry the corpse away. Ser Cauthrien waved one of the guards off and took his place, accompanying Loghain's body as it was taken to be prepared for a pyre.

Eamon suggested a recess, after which they would reconvene to discuss the matter of the succession, which was granted. The nobles filed out of the Landsmeet chamber, their conversations a discordant buzz in the back of Elissa's mind. She found herself riveted to the floor, unable to move or stop staring at that puddle of blood.

She'd gotten her justice. Justice for herself, for her family, for Cailan and Duncan and the countless soldiers who had died at Ostagar and even more, those who had died fighting Loghain's civil war while the Blight ravaged their lands. They'd brought him down. He'd never make her feel trapped and powerless again.

Where was the sense of elation she should have felt?

"Are you coming?" Alistair asked quietly, reaching for her arm but stopping himself lest he get blood upon her gown.

"Yes," she murmured, looking at that bloodstain a final time before turning away.

During the recess, Fergus attempted to clean Alistair's armor and face as best they could, while Elissa sat, weary and dazed and silent nearby. They all spoke surprisingly little; whether due to relief or ambivalence, she couldn't be certain. They had won a tremendous victory; why did they all feel so grim?

After a brief repast, the Landsmeet was called back into session. Elissa indicated that Alistair should enter first, and fell into step behind him, beside her brother. After Loghain's accusations that she was the one who led Alistair, she knew they must see him standing alone, the king who would lead them.

Eamon stepped forward to meet them. "So it is decided," he announced. "Alistair will take his father's throne."

Elissa glanced over at Anora, who had used the recess to change out of the gown which had been splattered with her father's blood. She looked cool and composed, except for the fury in her eyes. Perhaps there was more passion in the queen than anyone had ever suspected.

"I accept this decision," Alistair said solemnly, and when Elissa looked at him, his eyes were calm and certain. "And Lady Elissa Cousland will rule beside me as my queen."

Gasps of shock and troubled murmurs of concern threatened to swell to a din as Elissa stared at him, the blood draining from her face. Whatever she had expected he would do after their conversation that morning, this was not it.

"There's something I need to show you, Alistair." She swallowed nervously as Fergus closed the door behind him. She crossed to her packs and knelt beside one, digging through it until she found the parchment she sought.

"I was going to destroy this," she explained as she rose to bring it to him. "I thought it would be the only way to ever truly prove that I love you far more than I desire any crown."

She placed the parchment in Alistair's hands, her fingers closing tightly upon his for a moment. "But after what you said the other night, how bravely you've resigned yourself to taking a throne you never wanted, I realized it wouldn't be fair to deny you the chance to choose for yourself. And so I'm giving it to you, to do with it what you will."

Elissa bowed her head. "I'm asking you now, if you suspect there is any chance—any chance at all—that someday you may think I have used or mislead you, hold it over the candle and destroy it. I will stand beside you all the same, whatever you choose, for as long as you will have me."

"Your Majesty," Eamon said carefully, "Surely there is time to decide these matters later...."

"No, there is not," Alistair declared. "Not when I may fall in battle against the Blight at any time. This is what my brother intended."

He withdrew the parchment Elissa had given him and passed it along to Eamon, who scanned it quickly.

Elissa thought she might faint, so loud was the roaring of her blood in her ears. She had thought Alistair would wait until the political situation had settled somewhat, at the very least, before deciding what to do with it, not share it before the whole Landsmeet! Maker’s breath, what was he thinking?

"This letter is in Cailan's hand. It bears the royal seal and is dated two nights before the battle at Ostagar," Eamon explained for the sake of the other nobles. "It details King Cailan's intention to set Queen Anora aside due to their failure to produce an heir together, and marry Lady Elissa Cousland. The king states that if he should fall in battle before the betrothal could be formalized, any offspring Lady Cousland might bear within the appropriate amount of time should be considered his own issue."

She heard a sound from beside her, where her brother stood, that might have been a muffled laugh disguised behind a cough. The nobles muttered, and Elissa could practically hear them counting on their fingers the number of months that had passed since Ostagar.

"This is absurd!" Anora protested. Elissa spared her a glance and felt a surge of guilt when she beheld the queen's pale, shocked face. Anora had never done her any wrong, and yet she had taken everything from the queen. "You all heard what my father said about this girl, this Grey Warden. She could claim any man's child was my husband's and no one could disprove it!"

Eamon drew a deep breath, rolling the parchment purposefully as he resigned himself to see this new development through. "You'll forgive me, Anora, but you're hardly the best person to mediate this matter. Not to be indelicate, but the letter does make mention of the fact that King Cailan had ample evidence of Lady Cousland's chastity."

"I can vouch for that as well," Arl Bryland, her father's friend and once her mother's lover, announced. "I was friends with the Couslands for many years and saw how the teyrn and his wife sheltered the girl. Who here among us ever saw her at court, even after she reached the age when she should have been presented? Bryce and Eleanor were honorable people, no matter what Loghain may have insinuated, and their daughter is an honorable woman."

After a moment of hesitation, Teagan added his voice in agreement, and Bann Alfstanna after him, citing her own familiarity with the Couslands as evidence of Elissa's character. Elissa stared at them, awestruck, particularly at Teagan, who knew he lied. He merely gave her a solemn bow.

"Then it's settled," Alistair said firmly. "Lady Cousland will be my queen and will rule in my absence. If I fall in battle, or fail to produce an heir of my own, my brother's child will be my heir. My first choice, were matters different, would be to have my fellow Grey Warden lead my troops. Since that’s not possible, Teyrn Fergus Cousland will serve as my general in his sister's place."

There were no voices of dissent save Anora's. Elissa supposed after the insult she had been dealt that the queen would not step aside peacefully. Alistair was forced to have her imprisoned, her fate to be decided after the Blight had been dealt with.

She watched, astonished as Alistair fell almost effortlessly into his new role, speaking with passion and authority, inspiring the Landsmeet and winning their confidence. After all that had gone before, it seemed almost ridiculously easy that they found themselves finally in motion against the Blight.

She would have expected Fergus to be gloatingly gleeful as he hovered at the fringes of their activity. Instead as she began making arrangements for they royal suites to be prepared for them and their belongings to be brought from Arl Eamon's estate, he looked dejected.

She understood, as perhaps only another Cousland could. This day’s triumph would not replace all they had lost.

She found herself sending the chamberlain off to carry out her bidding while Alistair conferred with Arl Eamon. She approached her brother where he milled about, looking as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking his hand. "With the preparations for war, it's going to take some time before we can get our Denerim estate cleared of Howe's men, and probably a good deal longer after that before it can be restored to habitable condition. I know you wanted to go home, but I hope the palace will do for now?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," he gave a courtly bow, attempting a teasing smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Oh, stop it," she muttered. "I'm not queen yet."

"No," Fergus agreed, growing serious once more. "But Mother and Father would be proud of all you've accomplished here, pup. Don't worry about me. It's probably actually best that I'm not at our estate alone. Too many memories."

"I understand," Elissa said solemnly. Her brother met her eyes and Elissa saw in them a deep understanding of the sorrow and grief that even Alistair couldn't quite comprehend. She wanted to draw Fergus to her and hold him, to commune in their grief and shared loss, but now was not the time. Instead, she squeezed his hand once more and returned to Alistair's side as Arl Eamon bowed—bowed to him, Elissa noted with satisfaction—and was dismissed.

"Now," Alistair growled in her ear when he saw they had a rare moment of privacy, "when are these rooms of ours going to be ready? We are going to have a very long talk about you keeping that letter from me and making me think I was going to have to do all this alone!"