Griffin's Walk

Denerim, Arlessa of Amaranthine's mansion,

Warden Cousland -

I brooded in the dungeon under the Amaranthine mansion for hours, throwing sharp, pointy things at anything that annoyed me. The dungeon had been clean and dry since the last Arl's lands were granted to me. I only scared a rodent.

Once my anger faded, I realized how silent it was, and I remembered dueling Rendon Howe in this room. I watched him spit his venom at me even as he died.

A sharp rapping came at the barred door and Alistair came in. His eyes had an unexpected snap of anger too.

I spat out, “Her Majesty wants an heir of the blood before the end of Landsmeet.”

Then his rare anger caught my attention, as he usually calmed me. That dragged me out of my anger. “What's wrong, Alistair?”

“Eamon finally invited me to his mansion, but he's determined to continue the Theirin line. He... he invited noble hunters, and wanted me to sire a child with one. Edele Ceoric from Southron Hills is claiming a secret engagement now and that I'm dishonoring that. Eamon is supporting her.”

I laughed. I couldn't help it. “Okay, you win, you had the worse afternoon.”

A smile flashed across his face and he gave me a sudden kiss.

Pulling back a little, I felt much better. I traced up from his sternum along the fine embroidery. “We can run away, I'm sure we can find some darkspawn that need killing, somewhere.”

Alistair dropped his head onto me and said sadly, “Weishaupt and Orlais don't care about the Blight here.”

That was why we were plotting. Ferelden had been cut off and left to die by senior Wardens. Maybe they were counting on the country falling to allow Empress Celine to sweep in. Duncan was expendable. We were expendable. Ferelden was expendable.

Whoever approved of that was not looking to victory or vigilance, but politics. “So we're stuck with this hand.”

-- x --

We didn't go out that night. We traded the tales of the demands made on us. I read reports from Seneschal Garevel on business of the Arling, and Nathaniel on Warden business. Both reports were more amusing than the growing rumors about Alistair's fiancee.

The next night was the formal opening of the Landsmeet, with a ball in the palace. Our finery was coordinated and included large embroidered panel columns of spring flowers, rioting over my dress and his tunic. We also sported badges with the Grey Warden and Amaranthine arms. Alistair sporting the Amaranthine bear was a little premature, but we decided that announcing our intentions might help carry us through.

Eladras was in his full uniform and nearly unrecognizable, suited to guarding an Arlessa or Teyrna in a large crowd. It was more to prevent our being taken by surprise. Though he was armed with daggers only, it wasn't a limitation for him.

The chamber was already loud and crowded, with Anora holding court from the royal dais at one end. A ripple of talk spread out with our arrival but no one said anything direct.

So we moved through the other nobles and notables without votes. Most I knew on sight if not by name, though they were less important personally to me than the other Wardens. Most conversations were about new crops, building, and the mage rebellion.

I was asked my opinion on the mages. Not by many, as they remembered the mages I brought against Loghain. Mage Wardens were known, though not many by name.

I wasn't about to enlighten them.

The Grand Cleric Elspeth arrived with her assistants and guards. She brought more than for most Landsmeets. Young Templars held aloft banners, oriflammes of the Maker's sun in the Orlesian style, which would not endear them to the Bannorn. They couldn't bring great swords or bows into the Queen's presence, but the poles would make fine bludgeons and staffs.

Fergus and Lizz arrived, but I wouldn't seek him out. I still suspected that he might have had a hand in either Anora or Eamon's starts. Nor had he indicated he was planning to be of any assistance. Smacking him for it wouldn't solve anything.

“Warden Cousland?” The familiar face of Brother Genetivi smiled in fine robes with only a few, very small ink stains.

I smiled, because his scholarship was often brilliant and he usually resisted the more extreme bias of the other Chantry scholars. “Brother. I did not expect to see you here.”

“With the unrest, Her Grace wished to have my knowledge handy. Observing the Landsmeet is also educational for Sisters unused to such traditions.” His eyes still twinkled with his curiosity and humor.

Nothing I had seen or read of other lands made me think Landsmeet was a foolish custom. “Landsmeet gives the least of the Banns a voice, preventing most tyranny.”

“Still, many are obmutescent, aren't they, Warden?” Genetivi waved at the elven servants who cringed from some nobles.

The scholar managed to stump what I remembered from Aldous's lectures.

Alistair shook his head after a chuckle. “Why not say 'mute,' Brother? Or is this the demon pride the Sisters lecture us on so often?”

The Brother grinned and followed along when a Mother requested his support.

Warden appetite calling for our attention, we went to the long tables for foods. The tables were lined with elves, hired from the Alienage for the night, skinny and poorly fed. Their stiffness and obsequiousness always made me feel guilty.

I hired many elves but I couldn't hire them all, nor force the other nobles be responsible with their people. A memory of a dead noble who'd abused someone already backed into a corner flashed through my head.

“Dear?” Alistair's voice pierced through my abstraction.

Anora and her escort was coming in our direction, and I didn't like the look in her eyes.

“Cousland, I find it odd that we did not receive notice for your nuptials despite our expressed interest...”

-- x ---

A/N: Challenge words this time are obsequiousness, obmutescent, and oriflamme. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.