a midwinter's thaw, chapter 86
Title: A Midwinter's Thaw, Chapter 86
Author(s): w0rdinista and she who knows how to fall with style pagerunner_j
Characters: Alistair, Elinora Cousland, and a slowly-growing cast of thousands
Rating: T
Pairing: Cousland/Alistair
Summary: It's eight years after the Archdemon's defeat, eight years after Loghain's heroic death on the top of Fort Drakon, and eight years after Alistair stormed out of the Landsmeet, never to be seen again. It's five years since Elinora took up the mantle of teyrna of Highever after Fergus remarried and became King in the process. Now Alistair and Elinora are back together in Highever, with trouble brewing all around. The royal family has come to visit, three more Wardens are in attendance, and the Wardens' worrying dreams have returned, along with even greater troubles and tragedies. But the battle is over, and the First Day festival is in full-swing, and it's time Alistair met Lady Elinora's most fervent admirer....
Alistair had to admit it: even with limited time and under extraordinarily difficult circumstances, Maeve had managed to pull together quite an event. Granted, his experiences with hometown First Day festivals were definitely limited, and so he probably would have been impressed regardless. But the way the very sight of the town made Elinora's eyes light up made Alistair thankful to Maeve for the rest of his days.
He had, after all, asked Elinora what Highever's First Day festival was like, and Elinora had told him a number of stories about her childhood, about her parents, sharing treasured memories with him. And he'd seen something in her expression, something in her eyes that was so wistful it almost hurt him to see it. He wondered if, in Elinora's years as teyrna -- and even during Fergus' time as teyrn -- she'd tried to recapture some part of her childhood, even if it was only the thinnest shred of nostalgia. Alistair strongly suspected Elinora had tried.
And he had an even stronger suspicion that Maeve had succeeded.
Their first glimpse of the festivities came from the royal carriage. Fergus and Anora had both insisted Elinora and Alistair weren't fit to make the walk down to the town. It had been Fergus' idea that the carriage be used to make several trips -- the first to carry the Wardens; the second trip was to carry the knights who had accompanied them into the caverns -- even Alistair couldn't ignore such a gesture from the royals. The king and queen along with the children and the royal guard would arrive on the third trip, and afterward the carriage would be used to convey the injured from the castle to the town and back again.
He noticed on the way that the royal guard was short one man. As Fergus had quietly promised to him over the morning meal, a single messenger had been sent back to Denerim the night before -- with an order for Isabela's release in hand.
A First Day pardon, Alistair thought, looking out the window as if he could see all the way to the sea beyond. She'll appreciate the symbolism.
Alistair reached out for Elinora's hand and held on tightly as the carriage made its way toward town. Across from them, Nathaniel and Mikarra were quietly sitting, Mikarra tucked under Nathaniel's uninjured arm. On the other end of the cushioned bench sat Anders, eyes closed and head tilted back, with Ser Pounce-a-Lot likewise dozing in his lap. Anders had very nearly stayed behind to help Adeline, but she had sternly sent him on his way.
While the snow around Castle Cousland was mostly cleared away now, blackened and fouled as it had been after the battle, Highever proper was still pristine. After such a blizzard, and so many snowstorms following, quite a bit of snow remained, but now its appearance was picturesque more than anything else. The carriage trundled through the main gate and on to the square -- the snow had been shoveled neatly, and the town square decorated with fresh greenery and what looked like strings of dried berries; torches -- as yet unlit -- were set up strategically around the square and throughout the town. Homes and shopfronts were festooned with greenery
"Maeve must've had the whole town gathering decorations," Elinora whispered to him. "The dried berries are supposed to signify the past; the garland signifies the present, and--"
"The torches -- fire -- signifies the coming year," Alistair finished for her, grinning a little. "They made sure we knew that much in the monastery, at least." A faint blush colored her cheeks and Alistair leaned forward, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "I know the practical end of it -- it's the fun part I may need a little help with," he whispered. Elinora then sent him a smile back that was fit to melt any lingering snowdrifts.
"I thought we got a fair enough start on the fun bits this morning," she breathed into his ear.
"And just which bits," he said, lingering over the word, "did you find the most fun of all?"
She wrinkled her nose at him, but she was laughing.
The moment lingered until the carriage began to come to a stop. "My lady," he heard, after they halted entirely; one of the guards was opening the door. Elinora did her best to compose herself. "Ser."
"They'll be calling you 'my lord' soon enough," Elinora murmured to Alistair, which in fact did nothing to steady his nerves, but he did manage to disembark without incident, crutch firmly in one hand and Elinora holding the other. What he didn't expect was what directly followed.
A crowd of people around them burst into cheers.
Alistair blinked, momentarily struck dumb. He hadn't even seen the crowd approaching, let alone this. Men and women were applauding, calling out to "Highever's heroes;" children were waving little banners of Cousland colors and making a veritable racket with noisemakers. Alistair stared at them, then at Elinora, almost needing reassurance. She was wearing the strangest little smile, one that seemed private, just for him -- one that somehow said I know and it gets easier and let yourself smile back, Alistair, and so he did. For lack of anything better to do, he waved.
The first things he heard were people shouting congratulations -- and relief -- that they'd taken Korath down. As Elinora worked the crowd a little, acknowledging some and even calling out a response or two, the crowd warmed yet further. Alistair realized she knew exactly how to do this… that she'd done it before. Their hero.
But, he thought dazedly, they were cheering him, too.
Still, they had their favorite, and Elinora was unmistakably -- and deservedly -- it. Soon enough Alistair heard another joking shout from the back of the crowd: "Lady Elinora!" a man called. "Marry me!"
The crowd burst into laughter. So did Elinora, a wider, genuine smile breaking over her face. "Sorry," she called back. "I believe my hand's been spoken for."
And she raised their joined hands high.
If Alistair thought the crowd had been applauding their entrance, he was absolutely unprepared for the wave of gasps and cheers that answered that little gesture. Alistair began laughing despite himself, and leaned closer. "I didn't think," he said, in between shouts of congratulations, "that that was how we'd make our engagement announcement."
"Well." She fairly dimpled at him. "Sometimes you've simply got to grasp the moment."
And with that they were swept -- as much as they could be swept -- into the festivities. Alistair had barely a moment to glance over his shoulder to see Nathaniel, Mikarra, and Anders slipping away to a quieter part of the square. Anders, at least, sent them both a cheery wave and made a beeline for the pub.
While questions rang all around them, about how they defeated the terrible dragon and what heroic deeds they had done to sustain such injuries and when, above all, were they to be married, if it was true that the teyrna had found her true love at last, Elinora drew Alistair to a seat near the center of the square. "We'll catch up soon enough," Elinora called to the crowd. "But first, some refreshments for us all!"
Alistair soon found a mug of hot cider pressed into his hands. Smiling over the rim at the crowd, many of whom were already getting distracted with the rest of the ongoing party, he took a moment to watch and listen.
Music was playing, loud and boisterous; several people had already begun dancing, which Elinora had told him would last well into the night. Nearby, some of the friendly competitions had begun as well. Two men had taken up arm wrestling, and Alistair could hear the clink of coins as bystanders placed their bets. And then there were calls about trinkets to buy, pastries for sale --
Pastries, Alistair thought, and had merely a couple of seconds to brace himself before Maeve's laughing face was inches from his own.
"Ah-hah. You did get out of there alive." She grinned, first at him and then Elinora, who had only just dropped to a seat beside Alistair. "I thought as much. You're both too stubborn. Especially you, Miss-Elinora-who's-speaking-of-marriage."
"I think she might have yanked me back out of the Fade itself if I'd interfered with her plans," Alistair said, venturing a wink at Elinora. Maeve guffawed.
"Her plans? What about my plans?" She cast her hands wide. "No thanks to you, young man--"
"I did help," he pointed out. "With the bonfire."
"With little thanks to you," she went on, looking stern at the correction, "I've brought all this together…."
"And a fine festival it is, Maeve," Elinora said.
"Ah, it's barely started. Just you wait." She produced a tray of cookies from somewhere, perhaps the very invisible fabric of the air itself -- Alistair wouldn't put much past her at this point. They looked marvelous. He reached for one, murmuring his thanks.
"Nonsense," Maeve said, but she sounded pleased. "We owe you our thanks, it seems. The town stayed safe all night while you you battled at the castle and beneath…. no trouble here except for a couple stragglers, and our folk took those out handily. Only loss was Chandler's goat." She snorted. "And I think everyone hated that bleating thing. Nuisance. Kept eating my begonias."
Alistair stared at her, arching one eyebrow. "You... grow begonias?"
Slowly and deliberately, she winked. "Never underestimate me."
Alistair swallowed a bite of cookie rather hard, for he knew the value of that advice all too well. The cookie, at least, tasted delicious.
"So," Maeve began, looking at them both with a smirk of utter satisfaction. "Let's talk a bit more about these marriage plans of yours, eh?" To Alistair's endless amusement, Elinora blushed.
"We haven't even set a date yet, Maeve." She glanced over at him, almost shyly. "The development itself was… very recent."
"Ah," the older woman said knowingly, her grin widening. "So, lad, out with the sordid details: did you ask her before it all, or at the height of the battle?"
Alistair cast a glance at Elinora, who was blinking owlishly at Maeve's question. "Um…"
"Oh, come now, no need to get shy all of a sudden. You're not about to shock old Maeve."
"Actually, Maeve," Elinora began, somewhat sheepishly. "Alistair didn't ask at all." She cleared her throat. "I did."
Ever since he'd met the older woman, Alistair had wondered what it would take to catch her off-guard. Apparently, it took news like this. Maeve froze suddenly and stared at Elinora, blinking once, then twice, before the shock melted away into a smile, and she threw her head back, letting out a delighted belly-laugh.
"Oh, if only your mother, Maker rest her soul, were here to hear that," she said, her eyes crinkling with warmth and affection. "Teyrna Eleanor tried not a few times to send some of Ferelden's more eligible young men Miss Elinora's way," Maeve added, winking at Alistair. "And what do you suppose the young lady used to say about that?"
Alistair looked over at Elinora, blushing and covering her eyes with one hand, and said, "I suspect she said very little. Probably," he said with a little gesture, "a bit more swinging of swords involved in that response." Maeve laughed again.
"Well, to her mother, of course, she was nothing but politeness. But to the young men… well, let's just say Miss Elinora knows perfectly well how to be persuasively discouraging. Alistair grinned up at Maeve.
"This sounds positively intriguing, Maeve. Do go on."
"No, Maeve, please don't," came Elinora's pained reply. But when Alistair looked over, he saw she was trying -- with very little success -- not to laugh.
"Don't you think your young man deserves to know what he's getting into?" she asked archly.
"I suspect he already knows better than anyone else what he's getting into by this late stage," replied Elinora.
"Don't be a spoilsport, Elinora," riposted Alistair. "Maybe I want to hear it."
"Oh," she laughed, and in that instant he realized how close he'd come to never hearing Elinora laugh again. He swallowed hard, even as Elinora lolled her head to the side, eyes twinkling. "I have no doubt you do."
"Well, no doubt you already know she'd be sure to position herself either among the training dummies or in the stables when these would-be suitors arrived--"
"That part I could've guessed, yes," he said, nodding.
"But what Miss Elinora also did was pay the village lads to spread a few…" she cast a meaningful glance at Elinora, who was scooting further and further down in her chair. "…A few colorful rumors within earshot of the poor sod."
Alistair blinked hard and looked at Elinora.
"Not those types of rumors, thank you," she said, interpreting his look instantly. "Rumors that I'd bested them in a fight, for instance. Or that I had a foul temper--"
"You don't?" he teased, poking her.
"Hah. I would even get them to say things like I was a bloodthirsty hunter and could cull all of Highever's deer single-handedly…"
"…Deer," he drawled, arching an eyebrow at her. Elinora shrugged. "Deer like the kind you shoot with a bow and arrow?" At this, Elinora ducked her head and coughed.
"Yes, well. Lucky for me none of them ever wanted to see if the rumors were true, hmm? Though, all of that said, I'm a much better hand with a bow and arrow now than I was at the time."
"I can hardly see," Maeve said with a grin, "how you could've gotten worse." But then she chuckled and shook her head. "I will say you did give poor Thaddeus quite a fright."
"Oh, Maker's blood, how on earth did you hear about that?" Elinora said, tipping her head back against the chair and addressing the sky. Maeve only shook a finger at her.
"I hear everything that goes on in this town, I'll have you know."
"It was Ser Markham, wasn't it?"
"He and Ser Tristan did come in for cookies later that day, as I recall," replied Maeve airily.
"Wait, wait," Alistair broke in, resting his hand on Elinora's forearm. "Just how long ago was this?"
"Oh, about…" Elinora shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. "A few months ago." At that, Alistair laughed, loud and long.
"Elinora, really."
"You don't even know what I did," she said, smirking at him over the rim or her own mug of hot cider.
"Miss Elinora had a luncheon meeting with Thaddeus, as I heard it, and walked into the dining hall splattered head to toe with blood. Wild as any Avvarr, those boys said."
"I'll have you know he quite deserved it, I should say," interjected Elinora. "After what he--"
"Wait," Alistair cut in quickly, "now who's Thaddeus again?"
"Oh," Maeve said, "everyone around here knows--"
"Bann Applethorpe," Elinora said with a decidedly pointed edge as she rose carefully -- but definitely quickly -- from her chair. "How delightful you could make it. Maeve," she said, turning a too-bright smile to the older woman, "you know Thaddeus, of course."
Maeve's lips twitched. "Glad you could make it, Thaddeus."
Thaddeus Applethorpe was a tall, broad man, but his particular brand of broadness was located somewhere around his middle, rather than his shoulders. He had a jovial, ruddy complexion, and a thatch of dark auburn hair. He seemed, Alistair thought, an entirely pleasant sort of man, but for the way he was smiling -- no, beaming -- at Elinora.
He was also smiling at Maeve, but it wasn't quite the same sort of smile, and Alistair felt himself sit up a little straighter at it.
"My dearest Elinora," said Bann Applethorpe, spending far too much time on the single word. He clasped her hands in his without warning and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "You look marvelous. Positively, heroically lovely. And to think, in the midst of all this you took the time to send me such a thoughtful letter…."
Alistair saw Elinora go just the slightest bit tense. He wasn't entirely sure if it was because of the aforementioned letter -- which Alistair was sure he hadn't seen Elinora write -- or the fact that he hadn't let go of her hands yet. It was, he thought, probably a little bit of both.
"I must say, I was touched. Forever wistful at the circumstances, mind, but… I wanted you to know that I understand," he said, his voice going soft and earnest now. Elinora was still staring back at him in barely-masked confusion, but she was trying her best to rally with a reply.
"I… yes," she said, putting on a smile. "I'm glad you do."
"All that time," Thaddeus sighed, "and I never knew your hand was promised to another -- and why should you dwell upon it, I suppose, when your betrothed was so long gone -- but now that he's returned.…" He gave Alistair a brief, wordless glance, then returned to Elinora with a rueful sigh. "Well. I do respect your sense of honor, my lady."
She looked down at their still-joined hands, looking for all the world as if she'd respect him far more if he would simply let go. Alistair, watching her struggle to maintain her composure, suppressed the beginnings of a laugh.
"We would," Thaddeus said, "have made a charming couple, don't you think?"
Maeve, who until then had remained entirely silent, made the tiniest sound just then, almost imperceptible. Alistair, though, could tell it was a snort.
"Yes," Elinora answered, and Alistair could see the wheels churning in her head as she tried to piece together what Applethorpe was talking about. "I… er, I'm quite sure we would have."
A beat of silence passed and Thaddeus still hadn't relinquished Elinora's hands. Alistair was hopelessly torn between annoyance and succumbing to the absurd hilarity of the situation, and was fighting to keep his expression entirely neutral.
But then he witnessed Elinora do something he'd never seen her do before.
"Do forgive me, Thaddeus," she said, waving at her ankle, still obviously bound. "I've been told it's quite important to stay off my feet for the day, and I truly ought to honor that, don't you think?"
This time it was Alistair's turn to snort. Elinora, to her credit, ignored him completely.
"Of course, of course, my dear lady," Applethorpe said grandly, moving to her side and solicitously helping her back down into the chair. "Do tell me, though," said the bann, once she was settled, "for I'm terribly curious -- have you had any opportunity to enjoy your gift?"
Elinora froze again, her expression perfectly bewildered before she pushed forward another smile. "Yes, of course, Bann Applethorpe -- I always do so enjoy your gifts."
"I am but your humble servant, my lady," he replied, bowing. While he wasn't looking, Elinora cast a frantic glance at Alistair, shrugging quickly and gesturing a little madly. Alistair ducked his head and coughed into his fist, enjoying her discomfiture far more than he had any right to.
"Thaddeus here is just being modest," Maeve told him, grinning broadly. "For Miss Elinora's last birthday, he sent her the most exquisitely carved statue of Andraste."
"Oh, really?" Alistair asked mildly.
"I think it's fair to say I've certainly never seen its equal," she said, one corner of her mouth inching upward.
"I'm not surprised," said Bann Applethorpe. "The artist from whom I commissioned it in Denerim is quite gifted in unusual mediums."
Alistair arched an eyebrow at that, and for the first time addressed the bann directly. "Just how unusual?"
"This particular statue was crafted from a block of solid pure, Ferelden chocolate."
"…A chocolate Andraste?" Alistair said faintly. "Well, that's certainly inspired…"
"Life-sized," Maeve interjected.
Alistair blinked at her. "Life what?"
"The statue of Andraste," she said with far more composure than Alistair himself would have mustered at that moment, "was life-sized."
He looked again at Applethorpe, who was fairly glowing with pride. Alistair wondered rather recklessly what newest present he'd sent.
"I did think it would be difficult to outdo a masterwork at that scale -- and perhaps sacreligious in its way…."
And the life-sized chocolate replica wasn't? Alistair thought, and only barely managed not to say.
"So I tried for something a bit more subtle this time around," he went on. "I'm terribly glad you approve. What did you think of the likeness, if you don't mind me asking?"
"It was… certainly very like," Elinora said, just barely holding onto the conversation now.
"And I do hope you found it flattering."
"Yes!" she said, a bit desperately. "Indeed I did."
"Then I am pleased," said Bann Applethorpe, taking a good look at Elinora and smiling. "I did think it looked particularly good just around the eyes. Truly… captured your spirit."
From the looks of her at that moment, it was fortunate indeed that she was seated, or she would have fallen over entirely. Maeve, who was out of Applethorpe's line of sight by now, covered her mouth and bent half over with the force of her stifled laughter. Elinora shot the woman a glare that might have killed lesser women, but Maeve didn't even seem to notice. Neither did Bann Applethorpe.
"It was… truly a gift to treasure," Elinora said, her voice a little strained.
Alistair couldn't resist. "And I'm sure she -- ahem -- it will taste delicious."
Elinora closed her eyes for a moment. Maeve outright turned aside, waving one hand in the air and shaking with silent laughter.
"Yes, well," Bann Applethorpe said. "It is perhaps… meant more for display? But of course it won't last forever. Unlike" -- he turned back to Elinora -- "the eternal beauty and worth of the genuine article." He gave her a smile this time that was almost wistful. "I do hope you will be happy, my l… my lady."
She swallowed, then nodded, and smiled back, more truthfully than before. "Thank you, Thaddeus. I believe I will."
Applethorpe then turned to Alistair and addressed him directly for the first time. "And you, good ser… I do hope you realize what a rare and exquisite flower you have here at your side."
And though Alistair saw Elinora cringe slightly at being lauded so, he smiled warmly up at Thaddeus.
"As it happens, I've never been more aware of it," he answered quietly.
Thaddeus, apparently satisfied with that, nodded. At that point, Maeve placed a hand on the bann's arm.
"Come now, Thaddeus," she said, drawing him away, "time to relax and enjoy yourself. We've got some delightful drinking chocolate just this way -- made fresh this morning…"
Upon hearing that, Elinora made a soft choking sound.
"Guess we'll never see the masterpiece now," Alistair mused. He turned to face her. "So… what was that all about, anyway?"
Elinora was pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her head. "Maker only knows, but I think I'm thankful I wasn't around to find out firsthand. Though," she added on a sigh, "I imagine I know who'd be able to tell us."
"Molly?"
"None other," she answered, smiling a little. "Whatever letter he was talking about, I suspect she wrote it."
"And here I was about to get frightfully jealous that you were sending off love notes to other men." Elinora made a face at him, but Alistair only laughed. After a moment, he sobered. "He wasn't wrong, you know."
"About what?"
"You." Alistair reached over and clasped her hand. She smiled at him, her cheeks still glowing from stifled laughter, and the bann's words floated back to him: a rare and exquisite flower…
He found himself remembering that rose he'd given her so long ago, and how similar she'd seemed to it then: beauty growing amidst and despite darkness. What he hadn't thought of at the time was the strength, the will needed to survive -- thrive -- under such conditions.
Beautiful, strong, and stubborn, he thought, pressing a kiss to Elinora's palm, loving the way her breath hitched just a little when he did.
A rare and wonderful thing indeed.
Author(s): w0rdinista and she who knows how to fall with style pagerunner_j
Characters: Alistair, Elinora Cousland, and a slowly-growing cast of thousands
Rating: T
Pairing: Cousland/Alistair
Summary: It's eight years after the Archdemon's defeat, eight years after Loghain's heroic death on the top of Fort Drakon, and eight years after Alistair stormed out of the Landsmeet, never to be seen again. It's five years since Elinora took up the mantle of teyrna of Highever after Fergus remarried and became King in the process. Now Alistair and Elinora are back together in Highever, with trouble brewing all around. The royal family has come to visit, three more Wardens are in attendance, and the Wardens' worrying dreams have returned, along with even greater troubles and tragedies. But the battle is over, and the First Day festival is in full-swing, and it's time Alistair met Lady Elinora's most fervent admirer....
Alistair had to admit it: even with limited time and under extraordinarily difficult circumstances, Maeve had managed to pull together quite an event. Granted, his experiences with hometown First Day festivals were definitely limited, and so he probably would have been impressed regardless. But the way the very sight of the town made Elinora's eyes light up made Alistair thankful to Maeve for the rest of his days.
He had, after all, asked Elinora what Highever's First Day festival was like, and Elinora had told him a number of stories about her childhood, about her parents, sharing treasured memories with him. And he'd seen something in her expression, something in her eyes that was so wistful it almost hurt him to see it. He wondered if, in Elinora's years as teyrna -- and even during Fergus' time as teyrn -- she'd tried to recapture some part of her childhood, even if it was only the thinnest shred of nostalgia. Alistair strongly suspected Elinora had tried.
And he had an even stronger suspicion that Maeve had succeeded.
Their first glimpse of the festivities came from the royal carriage. Fergus and Anora had both insisted Elinora and Alistair weren't fit to make the walk down to the town. It had been Fergus' idea that the carriage be used to make several trips -- the first to carry the Wardens; the second trip was to carry the knights who had accompanied them into the caverns -- even Alistair couldn't ignore such a gesture from the royals. The king and queen along with the children and the royal guard would arrive on the third trip, and afterward the carriage would be used to convey the injured from the castle to the town and back again.
He noticed on the way that the royal guard was short one man. As Fergus had quietly promised to him over the morning meal, a single messenger had been sent back to Denerim the night before -- with an order for Isabela's release in hand.
A First Day pardon, Alistair thought, looking out the window as if he could see all the way to the sea beyond. She'll appreciate the symbolism.
Alistair reached out for Elinora's hand and held on tightly as the carriage made its way toward town. Across from them, Nathaniel and Mikarra were quietly sitting, Mikarra tucked under Nathaniel's uninjured arm. On the other end of the cushioned bench sat Anders, eyes closed and head tilted back, with Ser Pounce-a-Lot likewise dozing in his lap. Anders had very nearly stayed behind to help Adeline, but she had sternly sent him on his way.
While the snow around Castle Cousland was mostly cleared away now, blackened and fouled as it had been after the battle, Highever proper was still pristine. After such a blizzard, and so many snowstorms following, quite a bit of snow remained, but now its appearance was picturesque more than anything else. The carriage trundled through the main gate and on to the square -- the snow had been shoveled neatly, and the town square decorated with fresh greenery and what looked like strings of dried berries; torches -- as yet unlit -- were set up strategically around the square and throughout the town. Homes and shopfronts were festooned with greenery
"Maeve must've had the whole town gathering decorations," Elinora whispered to him. "The dried berries are supposed to signify the past; the garland signifies the present, and--"
"The torches -- fire -- signifies the coming year," Alistair finished for her, grinning a little. "They made sure we knew that much in the monastery, at least." A faint blush colored her cheeks and Alistair leaned forward, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "I know the practical end of it -- it's the fun part I may need a little help with," he whispered. Elinora then sent him a smile back that was fit to melt any lingering snowdrifts.
"I thought we got a fair enough start on the fun bits this morning," she breathed into his ear.
"And just which bits," he said, lingering over the word, "did you find the most fun of all?"
She wrinkled her nose at him, but she was laughing.
The moment lingered until the carriage began to come to a stop. "My lady," he heard, after they halted entirely; one of the guards was opening the door. Elinora did her best to compose herself. "Ser."
"They'll be calling you 'my lord' soon enough," Elinora murmured to Alistair, which in fact did nothing to steady his nerves, but he did manage to disembark without incident, crutch firmly in one hand and Elinora holding the other. What he didn't expect was what directly followed.
A crowd of people around them burst into cheers.
Alistair blinked, momentarily struck dumb. He hadn't even seen the crowd approaching, let alone this. Men and women were applauding, calling out to "Highever's heroes;" children were waving little banners of Cousland colors and making a veritable racket with noisemakers. Alistair stared at them, then at Elinora, almost needing reassurance. She was wearing the strangest little smile, one that seemed private, just for him -- one that somehow said I know and it gets easier and let yourself smile back, Alistair, and so he did. For lack of anything better to do, he waved.
The first things he heard were people shouting congratulations -- and relief -- that they'd taken Korath down. As Elinora worked the crowd a little, acknowledging some and even calling out a response or two, the crowd warmed yet further. Alistair realized she knew exactly how to do this… that she'd done it before. Their hero.
But, he thought dazedly, they were cheering him, too.
Still, they had their favorite, and Elinora was unmistakably -- and deservedly -- it. Soon enough Alistair heard another joking shout from the back of the crowd: "Lady Elinora!" a man called. "Marry me!"
The crowd burst into laughter. So did Elinora, a wider, genuine smile breaking over her face. "Sorry," she called back. "I believe my hand's been spoken for."
And she raised their joined hands high.
If Alistair thought the crowd had been applauding their entrance, he was absolutely unprepared for the wave of gasps and cheers that answered that little gesture. Alistair began laughing despite himself, and leaned closer. "I didn't think," he said, in between shouts of congratulations, "that that was how we'd make our engagement announcement."
"Well." She fairly dimpled at him. "Sometimes you've simply got to grasp the moment."
And with that they were swept -- as much as they could be swept -- into the festivities. Alistair had barely a moment to glance over his shoulder to see Nathaniel, Mikarra, and Anders slipping away to a quieter part of the square. Anders, at least, sent them both a cheery wave and made a beeline for the pub.
While questions rang all around them, about how they defeated the terrible dragon and what heroic deeds they had done to sustain such injuries and when, above all, were they to be married, if it was true that the teyrna had found her true love at last, Elinora drew Alistair to a seat near the center of the square. "We'll catch up soon enough," Elinora called to the crowd. "But first, some refreshments for us all!"
Alistair soon found a mug of hot cider pressed into his hands. Smiling over the rim at the crowd, many of whom were already getting distracted with the rest of the ongoing party, he took a moment to watch and listen.
Music was playing, loud and boisterous; several people had already begun dancing, which Elinora had told him would last well into the night. Nearby, some of the friendly competitions had begun as well. Two men had taken up arm wrestling, and Alistair could hear the clink of coins as bystanders placed their bets. And then there were calls about trinkets to buy, pastries for sale --
Pastries, Alistair thought, and had merely a couple of seconds to brace himself before Maeve's laughing face was inches from his own.
"Ah-hah. You did get out of there alive." She grinned, first at him and then Elinora, who had only just dropped to a seat beside Alistair. "I thought as much. You're both too stubborn. Especially you, Miss-Elinora-who's-speaking-of-marriage."
"I think she might have yanked me back out of the Fade itself if I'd interfered with her plans," Alistair said, venturing a wink at Elinora. Maeve guffawed.
"Her plans? What about my plans?" She cast her hands wide. "No thanks to you, young man--"
"I did help," he pointed out. "With the bonfire."
"With little thanks to you," she went on, looking stern at the correction, "I've brought all this together…."
"And a fine festival it is, Maeve," Elinora said.
"Ah, it's barely started. Just you wait." She produced a tray of cookies from somewhere, perhaps the very invisible fabric of the air itself -- Alistair wouldn't put much past her at this point. They looked marvelous. He reached for one, murmuring his thanks.
"Nonsense," Maeve said, but she sounded pleased. "We owe you our thanks, it seems. The town stayed safe all night while you you battled at the castle and beneath…. no trouble here except for a couple stragglers, and our folk took those out handily. Only loss was Chandler's goat." She snorted. "And I think everyone hated that bleating thing. Nuisance. Kept eating my begonias."
Alistair stared at her, arching one eyebrow. "You... grow begonias?"
Slowly and deliberately, she winked. "Never underestimate me."
Alistair swallowed a bite of cookie rather hard, for he knew the value of that advice all too well. The cookie, at least, tasted delicious.
"So," Maeve began, looking at them both with a smirk of utter satisfaction. "Let's talk a bit more about these marriage plans of yours, eh?" To Alistair's endless amusement, Elinora blushed.
"We haven't even set a date yet, Maeve." She glanced over at him, almost shyly. "The development itself was… very recent."
"Ah," the older woman said knowingly, her grin widening. "So, lad, out with the sordid details: did you ask her before it all, or at the height of the battle?"
Alistair cast a glance at Elinora, who was blinking owlishly at Maeve's question. "Um…"
"Oh, come now, no need to get shy all of a sudden. You're not about to shock old Maeve."
"Actually, Maeve," Elinora began, somewhat sheepishly. "Alistair didn't ask at all." She cleared her throat. "I did."
Ever since he'd met the older woman, Alistair had wondered what it would take to catch her off-guard. Apparently, it took news like this. Maeve froze suddenly and stared at Elinora, blinking once, then twice, before the shock melted away into a smile, and she threw her head back, letting out a delighted belly-laugh.
"Oh, if only your mother, Maker rest her soul, were here to hear that," she said, her eyes crinkling with warmth and affection. "Teyrna Eleanor tried not a few times to send some of Ferelden's more eligible young men Miss Elinora's way," Maeve added, winking at Alistair. "And what do you suppose the young lady used to say about that?"
Alistair looked over at Elinora, blushing and covering her eyes with one hand, and said, "I suspect she said very little. Probably," he said with a little gesture, "a bit more swinging of swords involved in that response." Maeve laughed again.
"Well, to her mother, of course, she was nothing but politeness. But to the young men… well, let's just say Miss Elinora knows perfectly well how to be persuasively discouraging. Alistair grinned up at Maeve.
"This sounds positively intriguing, Maeve. Do go on."
"No, Maeve, please don't," came Elinora's pained reply. But when Alistair looked over, he saw she was trying -- with very little success -- not to laugh.
"Don't you think your young man deserves to know what he's getting into?" she asked archly.
"I suspect he already knows better than anyone else what he's getting into by this late stage," replied Elinora.
"Don't be a spoilsport, Elinora," riposted Alistair. "Maybe I want to hear it."
"Oh," she laughed, and in that instant he realized how close he'd come to never hearing Elinora laugh again. He swallowed hard, even as Elinora lolled her head to the side, eyes twinkling. "I have no doubt you do."
"Well, no doubt you already know she'd be sure to position herself either among the training dummies or in the stables when these would-be suitors arrived--"
"That part I could've guessed, yes," he said, nodding.
"But what Miss Elinora also did was pay the village lads to spread a few…" she cast a meaningful glance at Elinora, who was scooting further and further down in her chair. "…A few colorful rumors within earshot of the poor sod."
Alistair blinked hard and looked at Elinora.
"Not those types of rumors, thank you," she said, interpreting his look instantly. "Rumors that I'd bested them in a fight, for instance. Or that I had a foul temper--"
"You don't?" he teased, poking her.
"Hah. I would even get them to say things like I was a bloodthirsty hunter and could cull all of Highever's deer single-handedly…"
"…Deer," he drawled, arching an eyebrow at her. Elinora shrugged. "Deer like the kind you shoot with a bow and arrow?" At this, Elinora ducked her head and coughed.
"Yes, well. Lucky for me none of them ever wanted to see if the rumors were true, hmm? Though, all of that said, I'm a much better hand with a bow and arrow now than I was at the time."
"I can hardly see," Maeve said with a grin, "how you could've gotten worse." But then she chuckled and shook her head. "I will say you did give poor Thaddeus quite a fright."
"Oh, Maker's blood, how on earth did you hear about that?" Elinora said, tipping her head back against the chair and addressing the sky. Maeve only shook a finger at her.
"I hear everything that goes on in this town, I'll have you know."
"It was Ser Markham, wasn't it?"
"He and Ser Tristan did come in for cookies later that day, as I recall," replied Maeve airily.
"Wait, wait," Alistair broke in, resting his hand on Elinora's forearm. "Just how long ago was this?"
"Oh, about…" Elinora shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. "A few months ago." At that, Alistair laughed, loud and long.
"Elinora, really."
"You don't even know what I did," she said, smirking at him over the rim or her own mug of hot cider.
"Miss Elinora had a luncheon meeting with Thaddeus, as I heard it, and walked into the dining hall splattered head to toe with blood. Wild as any Avvarr, those boys said."
"I'll have you know he quite deserved it, I should say," interjected Elinora. "After what he--"
"Wait," Alistair cut in quickly, "now who's Thaddeus again?"
"Oh," Maeve said, "everyone around here knows--"
"Bann Applethorpe," Elinora said with a decidedly pointed edge as she rose carefully -- but definitely quickly -- from her chair. "How delightful you could make it. Maeve," she said, turning a too-bright smile to the older woman, "you know Thaddeus, of course."
Maeve's lips twitched. "Glad you could make it, Thaddeus."
Thaddeus Applethorpe was a tall, broad man, but his particular brand of broadness was located somewhere around his middle, rather than his shoulders. He had a jovial, ruddy complexion, and a thatch of dark auburn hair. He seemed, Alistair thought, an entirely pleasant sort of man, but for the way he was smiling -- no, beaming -- at Elinora.
He was also smiling at Maeve, but it wasn't quite the same sort of smile, and Alistair felt himself sit up a little straighter at it.
"My dearest Elinora," said Bann Applethorpe, spending far too much time on the single word. He clasped her hands in his without warning and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "You look marvelous. Positively, heroically lovely. And to think, in the midst of all this you took the time to send me such a thoughtful letter…."
Alistair saw Elinora go just the slightest bit tense. He wasn't entirely sure if it was because of the aforementioned letter -- which Alistair was sure he hadn't seen Elinora write -- or the fact that he hadn't let go of her hands yet. It was, he thought, probably a little bit of both.
"I must say, I was touched. Forever wistful at the circumstances, mind, but… I wanted you to know that I understand," he said, his voice going soft and earnest now. Elinora was still staring back at him in barely-masked confusion, but she was trying her best to rally with a reply.
"I… yes," she said, putting on a smile. "I'm glad you do."
"All that time," Thaddeus sighed, "and I never knew your hand was promised to another -- and why should you dwell upon it, I suppose, when your betrothed was so long gone -- but now that he's returned.…" He gave Alistair a brief, wordless glance, then returned to Elinora with a rueful sigh. "Well. I do respect your sense of honor, my lady."
She looked down at their still-joined hands, looking for all the world as if she'd respect him far more if he would simply let go. Alistair, watching her struggle to maintain her composure, suppressed the beginnings of a laugh.
"We would," Thaddeus said, "have made a charming couple, don't you think?"
Maeve, who until then had remained entirely silent, made the tiniest sound just then, almost imperceptible. Alistair, though, could tell it was a snort.
"Yes," Elinora answered, and Alistair could see the wheels churning in her head as she tried to piece together what Applethorpe was talking about. "I… er, I'm quite sure we would have."
A beat of silence passed and Thaddeus still hadn't relinquished Elinora's hands. Alistair was hopelessly torn between annoyance and succumbing to the absurd hilarity of the situation, and was fighting to keep his expression entirely neutral.
But then he witnessed Elinora do something he'd never seen her do before.
"Do forgive me, Thaddeus," she said, waving at her ankle, still obviously bound. "I've been told it's quite important to stay off my feet for the day, and I truly ought to honor that, don't you think?"
This time it was Alistair's turn to snort. Elinora, to her credit, ignored him completely.
"Of course, of course, my dear lady," Applethorpe said grandly, moving to her side and solicitously helping her back down into the chair. "Do tell me, though," said the bann, once she was settled, "for I'm terribly curious -- have you had any opportunity to enjoy your gift?"
Elinora froze again, her expression perfectly bewildered before she pushed forward another smile. "Yes, of course, Bann Applethorpe -- I always do so enjoy your gifts."
"I am but your humble servant, my lady," he replied, bowing. While he wasn't looking, Elinora cast a frantic glance at Alistair, shrugging quickly and gesturing a little madly. Alistair ducked his head and coughed into his fist, enjoying her discomfiture far more than he had any right to.
"Thaddeus here is just being modest," Maeve told him, grinning broadly. "For Miss Elinora's last birthday, he sent her the most exquisitely carved statue of Andraste."
"Oh, really?" Alistair asked mildly.
"I think it's fair to say I've certainly never seen its equal," she said, one corner of her mouth inching upward.
"I'm not surprised," said Bann Applethorpe. "The artist from whom I commissioned it in Denerim is quite gifted in unusual mediums."
Alistair arched an eyebrow at that, and for the first time addressed the bann directly. "Just how unusual?"
"This particular statue was crafted from a block of solid pure, Ferelden chocolate."
"…A chocolate Andraste?" Alistair said faintly. "Well, that's certainly inspired…"
"Life-sized," Maeve interjected.
Alistair blinked at her. "Life what?"
"The statue of Andraste," she said with far more composure than Alistair himself would have mustered at that moment, "was life-sized."
He looked again at Applethorpe, who was fairly glowing with pride. Alistair wondered rather recklessly what newest present he'd sent.
"I did think it would be difficult to outdo a masterwork at that scale -- and perhaps sacreligious in its way…."
And the life-sized chocolate replica wasn't? Alistair thought, and only barely managed not to say.
"So I tried for something a bit more subtle this time around," he went on. "I'm terribly glad you approve. What did you think of the likeness, if you don't mind me asking?"
"It was… certainly very like," Elinora said, just barely holding onto the conversation now.
"And I do hope you found it flattering."
"Yes!" she said, a bit desperately. "Indeed I did."
"Then I am pleased," said Bann Applethorpe, taking a good look at Elinora and smiling. "I did think it looked particularly good just around the eyes. Truly… captured your spirit."
From the looks of her at that moment, it was fortunate indeed that she was seated, or she would have fallen over entirely. Maeve, who was out of Applethorpe's line of sight by now, covered her mouth and bent half over with the force of her stifled laughter. Elinora shot the woman a glare that might have killed lesser women, but Maeve didn't even seem to notice. Neither did Bann Applethorpe.
"It was… truly a gift to treasure," Elinora said, her voice a little strained.
Alistair couldn't resist. "And I'm sure she -- ahem -- it will taste delicious."
Elinora closed her eyes for a moment. Maeve outright turned aside, waving one hand in the air and shaking with silent laughter.
"Yes, well," Bann Applethorpe said. "It is perhaps… meant more for display? But of course it won't last forever. Unlike" -- he turned back to Elinora -- "the eternal beauty and worth of the genuine article." He gave her a smile this time that was almost wistful. "I do hope you will be happy, my l… my lady."
She swallowed, then nodded, and smiled back, more truthfully than before. "Thank you, Thaddeus. I believe I will."
Applethorpe then turned to Alistair and addressed him directly for the first time. "And you, good ser… I do hope you realize what a rare and exquisite flower you have here at your side."
And though Alistair saw Elinora cringe slightly at being lauded so, he smiled warmly up at Thaddeus.
"As it happens, I've never been more aware of it," he answered quietly.
Thaddeus, apparently satisfied with that, nodded. At that point, Maeve placed a hand on the bann's arm.
"Come now, Thaddeus," she said, drawing him away, "time to relax and enjoy yourself. We've got some delightful drinking chocolate just this way -- made fresh this morning…"
Upon hearing that, Elinora made a soft choking sound.
"Guess we'll never see the masterpiece now," Alistair mused. He turned to face her. "So… what was that all about, anyway?"
Elinora was pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her head. "Maker only knows, but I think I'm thankful I wasn't around to find out firsthand. Though," she added on a sigh, "I imagine I know who'd be able to tell us."
"Molly?"
"None other," she answered, smiling a little. "Whatever letter he was talking about, I suspect she wrote it."
"And here I was about to get frightfully jealous that you were sending off love notes to other men." Elinora made a face at him, but Alistair only laughed. After a moment, he sobered. "He wasn't wrong, you know."
"About what?"
"You." Alistair reached over and clasped her hand. She smiled at him, her cheeks still glowing from stifled laughter, and the bann's words floated back to him: a rare and exquisite flower…
He found himself remembering that rose he'd given her so long ago, and how similar she'd seemed to it then: beauty growing amidst and despite darkness. What he hadn't thought of at the time was the strength, the will needed to survive -- thrive -- under such conditions.
Beautiful, strong, and stubborn, he thought, pressing a kiss to Elinora's palm, loving the way her breath hitched just a little when he did.
A rare and wonderful thing indeed.