Chapter Text
"Hey Junior," Brosca set the bottle next to the elf. "Do me a favor, and keep an eye on this?"
Jerath nodded. "No problem."
Brosca grinned. "Thanks." He headed out into the Denerim market. Zevran and Lenore were haggling with a merchant. Well, Zevran was haggling. They'd learned the hard way not to let Lenore carry the gold. Fortunately, the little escapade Junior had led them on had paid pretty well. "Talked to Cathiel. The Arl of Denerim's manor is Warden headquarters until everything gets all straightened out."
"That's nice to know. Eamon's been jumpy."
Zevran shook his head. "You did dump Oghren into the fountain and then turn it into ice." They walked back to the tavern.
"He shouldn't have pinched."
Brosca laughed. "Speaking of Oghren, I swiped his new brew." He smiled. "Calls it 'The Virgin Princess'."
Lenore blinked, then shook her head. "Oh, that's not Oghren's. That's Felsi's."
"Oh. Sod." He glanced at the back room. "Maybe I could sneak it back before she notices it's..."
The door opened and he saw Felsi come out, bottle in one hand and Jerath's ear in the other. She dragged the elf into the kitchen.
Lenore's eyes widened. "You know he's going to kill you, right?"
"So, Zev, how's the weather in Antiva this time of year?"
#
Leliana smiled when she looked up. "Warden-Commander."
"Leliana." Jerath nodded. "Just stopping in on my way to Amaranthine." He looked around.
She smiled. "It's not impressive yet, but you can already see what it will be in a few years." She looked around the settlement. Aravels dotted the landscape. More than a few elves had come from the alienages or refugee camps, and tensions between them and the Dalish were surprisingly light. There were human soldiers as well, there by order of the king due to darkspawn stragglers still posing a threat. Most wore Gwaren's colors. "Come, Brehan's going to want to see you."
Ashalle's aravel was in one of the best locations in the area. Brehan had rather shamelessly abused his hero status to get her a site on a small hill, overlooking the river. Several large oak trees would shade the house once it was built. She smiled when she saw Brehan on the roof of the structure, cursing at the thatch. As he had been doing most of the morning. And most of the previous day.
"Look who I found." Leliana waved at him and gestured at Jerath.
Jerath shook his head. "Need a hand up there?"
"I've got it." Brehan growled the words, and let out a few curses in elven.
"You sure?"
"Da'mi, I know what I'm doing." Brehan shot him a glare. "If you want to help, you can --” Brehan leaned forward to put in another section of thatch, and fell through the roof into the house below. Loud curses followed, and the rest of the roof collapsed on top of him.
Leliana glanced at Jerath. "Any way I could convince you not to share this incident with the others?"
"No." Jerath shrugged as he went to help her dig Brehan out.
#
She'd put a bow around Schmoople's neck, and was now trying to coax Vir'ghilani out from behind the chair so she could do the same to him. Brehan laughed as the wolf scooted further away. "You needn't worry, ma'arlath. He isn't coming to the celebration."
"He isn't?"
"He was disinvited. Something about relieving himself on Bann Ceorlic's shoes."
Leliana blinked. "Was Bann Ceorlic wearing the shoes at the time?" She shook her head and laughed softly. "You should get dressed."
"Help me with the armor?" Varathorn had all but forced the suit of ironbark on him when he'd meet them at Ostagar. There was still a lot of work to do, but already rebuilding was happening at the ruins. The armor was styled after the ancient armor he'd found in the wolf ruins, and it was a work of art.
Leliana fastened the last of the buckles, then adjusted the blue griffin marked cloak to drape properly over his shoulders. "There." She kissed him. Her own dress was green to match his armor, trimmed with warden blue. Around her neck she wore the ironbark amulet on a simple silver chain. The effect was more striking than if she'd layered herself in gold.
#
"Ser Brehan, Lady Leliana."
Brehan gave him a small bow. "Bann Tabris." He noted that the man was wearing both the boots and the short cloak Keeper Lanaya had given him. It was good to know that relations between the Dalish and their city cousins were improving.
He fell into step with them. "All these nobles."
"And you are one of them now," Leliana said.
"A strange feeling," Cyrion said. "I keep expecting someone to tell me to go fetch the tea." He shook his head. "I'm not certain, but I think one of the guests from the Free Marches actually tried to bribe me."
"What did he want?" Brehan asked.
"The opportunity to talk to Ferelden's new Warden-Commander." Cyrion gave a proud little laugh. "My son."
"Has he arrived yet?"
"No, but he sent word ahead. I'm expecting him very soon."
#
Saitada had sent word. With storms raging off the coast, taking ship was not an option. Cathiel's side looked slightly empty without the presence of their former commander. She wasn't going to cry.
Their current commander stood to Alistair's right. Even in the armor of the Warden-Commander, he still looked like a half-grown kid. She wasn't going to cry.
Brehan stood next in the line, across from her. She wasn't sure how Wynne and Lenore had managed it, but Oghren was sober, bathed, and dressed in clean clothing. Probably blood magic. She wasn't going to cry.
The door at the end of the hall opened. Cathiel was radiant in white and silver. From the look on Alistair's face, Leliana wasn't sure if the King was even aware there were people in the room other than his bride. Fergus led his sister up the path, as every noble in Ferelden rose to bow to their new queen. She wasn't going to cry.
Alistair and Cathiel took each other's hands, and gazed into each other's eyes as they recited the formal vows. She wasn't going to cry.
Despite her repeated threats, Lenore did not make fireworks appear. It was clear though, that it had taken a supreme act of will on the part of the mage. She wasn't going to cry.
Music swelled, as Alistair led his queen to the hall for their first dance as husband and wife. The long hours she and Brehan had spent tutoring him paid off, he moved through the steps barely a falter. She wasn't going to cry.
"Dance with me, ma'arlath?" Brehan said, offering her a hand. She took it, and let him lead her to the floor. She wasn't going to cry.
Brosca took the first dance with Lenore, as Zevran managed to coax Wynne into dancing with him. She wasn't going to cry.
Oghren and Felsi managed something approaching a resemblance of dance steps, and Oghren actually didn't have his hands on the woman's rear. She wasn't going to cry.
Shianni managed to drag Jerath, somewhat literally, into the dance. Shale watched, resplendent in gems of soft blue and white. She wasn't going to cry.
Brehan kissed her. "You're crying, ma'arlath."
She laughed. "Don't be silly, vhenan. Of course I am."
#
He was playing with the sword again. Starfang. She laughed, and he gave her an embarrassed look before returning it to its stand. "You are adorable when you blush," she said.
Alistair gave her a mock glare. "I'm king now. King's aren't adorable. Handsome, maybe. Regal. Certainly not adorable." He came over and draped an arm over her. "It was good, having everyone together again. Almost everyone."
"Brehan and Leliana are heading to Orlais."
"Ah, so we'll be at war soon. At least I have the proper sword for it."
"Just so you know, Brosca is threatening to steal it. The sword that killed an archdemon. He says there is a man in Tevinter who will pay a thousand royals for it."
"The coffers don't need money that bad." He considered a moment. "Do they?"
"Jerath gave the sword to you as a wedding present, Alistair. A gift from your friend. Keep it." Cathiel leaned her head onto his shoulder. "Besides, with what Brosca having found in Howe's little horde, the kingdom is in surprisingly good shape." She kissed him. Her husband. It was still a bit hard to believe. "Come to bed, my king."
"As you command, my queen." He picked her up and carried her across the room.