A Lady and Her Gentleman

This is a series of snippets in no particular story order regarding the romance between the newly recruited Lady Erilys Cousland and the Grey Warden Alistair. **Caution End Game Spoilers**

Snippet 6: Familiar Regret and Sorrow

Loghain Mac Tir, a myth and legend among the people of Ferelden, was dead. The sickness and knots she felt curdling and twisting in the deep pit of her stomach greatly tested her stamina. She had instantly recognized the anguish and hate that had made it so plainly known on Anora's grief-stricken face. The deposed queen may have been as frigid as an ice cold witch when she needed to be, but despite her calculated planning for survival, Erilys was more than sure that Anora had not expected to see her father beheaded. Alistair's blade had swung true and cut clean, a father's blood staining crimson the snowy cheeks of a mourning daughter.

With a weary sigh, Lady Erilys Cousland stepped away from the open window, closing the wooden shutters while the rusting hinges moaned in protest.

"You are an odd woman, my dear warden." The woman managed to piece together a stoic expression as she turned to regard Zevran. The elven assassin leaned against the frame of the doorway. "For someone who has only just made herself practically queen, I would expect that particular someone to be more, how would you say it, celebratory? Ecstatic? Giddy?" His expression lightened as an impish grin eagerly spread across his lips, "Would you like a massage? My hands could work their wonders on what I can only imagine to be taut, tight muscles that need to be eased of their tension…"

Erilys merely shook her head, "You'd only try to disrobe me and though I naively allowed you in my tent once before, you must forgive me that I not allow you yet another chance to grope me." The young woman regarded the assassin warily.

The elf merely chuckled, "In my defense, I did warn you."

"And I was but an innocent lamb being shepherded by a prowling wolf I thought only meant to help ease my aching back."

"The offer still stands," he playfully arched an eyebrow as his smile deepened. "So, if my hands are denied the exquisite liberty of easing the tension of delectable skin would you then be so kind to ease a gentleman's curiosity?"

The woman scoffed at his last remark, "I think you've made it plain you are no gentleman."

"Then 'dashing rogue who is still ridiculously awesome' will have to suffice." Zevran leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "So, was this your plan all along?"

"What was?"

"Don't play me for a fool, my dear sweet Warden. Alistair presented to you a most wonderful opportunity did he not?" The jovial charm in his grin darkened, "Why, I almost feel right at home."

"I-I beg your pardon? H-how dare you!"

"Ah, look at that!" The exotic elf pushed himself from the wood carved doorframe and slowly sauntered into the room. Amber eyes measured the women up and down at their leisure as Zevran circled her as a cat would a mouse. "I love the way an anger's blush looks upon those lovely cheeks of yours. I mean no disrespect, but being a companion of yours I thought I might delve into your mind and see just what inspired such an exquisite, if surprising, decision."

"You really can't see why?" Anger danced across her features, her brow slightly twitching as she followed the Antivan Crow's every move. "Do you really see me as some grubby noblewoman opportunist that you can't see why I did what I thought was best?" The Warden reached out to place a hand firmly on his shoulder, hoping to stop his predatory prowl, only to have it caught in his grasp. Zevran merely arched an eyebrow.

"You ask me that as if I can understand a woman's mind. Tsk tsk tsk. Such a thing a man has never been able to do, I'm afraid. Consider it the reason why I ask." As a calloused thumb gently caressed her knuckle, Erilys made a poor attempt to feebly pull back her hand. The elf refused to let her go.

"Very well, I couldn't stand the idea of that… betraying harpy marrying him or him ruling alone." Her gaze grew distant as images of a future that could have been floated about in her weary mind: A man and woman fighting as if they were children, to the same couple years older and more appreciative of the other. The final image of blond children running about made her feel cold. "If… If he married her, she made it plain as day that it was she who would push him aside and make sure hers was the ruling voice. And if he ruled alone I couldn't help but wonder… what if someone would try to slay him or worse yet take advantage of his political naïveté?"

"So nothing of love then? You chose to be betrothed to him purely for his benefit? My you are quite the saint."

With a ferocious yank, Erilys pulled her hand free as she shook her head, unable to believe the audacity of the question. "Of course love, most of all love..." What made him think he had the right to ask these sort of questions was all she could think. Why did he have to pick and prod apart this particular decision of all the crucial cross roads they had crossed before? She rubbed her hands together, fighting off the chill that sank into her bones as she thought out each word carefully. "Think about it. He is the last of the Theirin blood line and the one thing he is going to be pressured into is having heirs to secure that his line lives on. It…it is no secret that for months he and I have," a blush painted her cheeks as she turned away from him, "well, you know."

Zevran could only laughed, "Like rabbits in the spring! Thank goodness for herbs and rogue's tea, am I right?"

The Warden merely folded her hands in her lap. "We have taken no precautions."

Zevran blinked. Erilys coughed with ladylike composure.

"You mean he doesn't even, pardon my boldness," he swallowed, "pull out?" The noblewoman could only bite her lip, looking askance, unable to meet Zevran's gaze. "I ah... shall take the awkward silence and your extremely red cheeks as a 'no.'"

A trembling sigh shook through her limbs, her fingers busily entwined themselves as she faced the closed window, studying the detail of the latched shutters. "What if simply being me wasn't enough? What if I'm as barren as Anora is rumored to be? Though I'm a Cousland, what if being an empty vessel of a woman has damned me from being with the man I love?"

"You're right."

As she pivoted on an armored heel, her strickened gaze met that of the grim man before her, his tall frame cautiously stepping into the room. Alistair regarded the two carefully.

Zevran casually shrugged, "I suppose I'll take this as my cue to make a dashing exit."

The Templar-Warden stepped aside for the retreating elf, his eyes never leaving that of the woman who stood as still as stone before him. Her clenched jaw ached from how tense it felt, her hands were tightly held before her as she held her head high. As Alistair stepped within the room, the scraping of his armor could only make the woman more aware of the muted silence between them.

Just as she was about to speak he silenced her with a raise of his hand. "If you don't mind," He leveled her with a cautious stare, "let me be the first to say I didn't want this; being made king that is." Armored fingers combed through his hair as he continued on, "You had asked me not to think ill of you should it have come to this when I told you of my royal parentage. Part of me though, really truly hoped you wouldn't have picked me over Anora."

"Alistair, I-"

"Let me finish, my heart. If I can't tell you this now… I know me. I won't tell you until it's far too late. You'll either forgive me or hate me and I want this out now so it can be out of the way and this weight in the air can be lifted." He waved a hand about for good measure.

Erilys sank in a nearby chair, the wooden legs scraped along the stone from the sudden movement as Alistair stood close before her. She desperately wanted to shove him away; the proximity with which he stood made her unbearably uncomfortable.

"I overheard what you and Zevran were talking about." Shame forced her to study the ground as the man knelt before her, his expression unusually serious. "I want you to understand what I am about to say… and no hitting. You, if you had only proclaimed me as king and left it at that you are correct, my love. You and I as… lovers, I would have ended it."

Her throat felt constricted as his soft words reached her delicate ears. "I see." Her own words sounded so alien to her. "Why?"

That he would regard her with such compassion pained her. How could he? Having just confessed that he and she would have been no more than comrade in arms pained her heart. After all they had been through from Ostagar, Goldanna, Howe, to this. How she hated her intuition so badly. Why couldn't they celebrate their engagement like normal people? Why did this have to be so difficult?

"There's a reason why you haven't been with child." Erilys went rigid as he continued, "Becoming a Grey Warden…" as he spoke, carefully explaining the chances of either of them conceiving a child, each syllable pushed Erilys further from reality. Her surroundings grew hazy and all she could see was her family in her mind's eye. Her mother and father doting on both her and Fergus, something she'd more than likely never have again. She would never have a daughter named Eleanor or a son named Bryce and Highever would be doomed to fall to another noble house after her passing.

That's when it struck her.

"So we are to be the last of both our lines, yes?" Her hands held each other tightly; Alistair could only offer an apologetic nod. She pushed herself up and away, pacing around the room. "Why hasn't this come up sooner?" The noblewoman tiredly brushed the palm of her hand over her face.

"I didn't think to tell you because when would it have been a good time? Congratulations, you've survived drinking magically prepared blood against all odds and not only will you eat as if you were a ravenous pig, you'll never ever worry about getting a woman with child."

"And you would have left me."

"Yes." His short answer unnerved her.

"Damn it all to oblivion, Alistair!" She rushed toward him, hands planted against his armor as they stood toe to toe. "I love you! Love you! And if marrying me is something that inconveniences you without an heir then so be it. Maker and all other gods out there be damned, you're all I have left." The last of her words limply escaped her lips as her forehead came to rest against the cool metal of Alistair's breastplate. "You knew this all along," her whispered words were weak, "and you still saw fit to steal my heart."

In response, strong arms tenderly embraced the woman and the familiar weight of a chin resting atop her head lulled her senses. Slowly Alistair swayed; he brushed his lips upon her brow.

"I know it's far too soon to be seeking your forgiveness, my lady," gently he tightened his hold on her, "but truth be told a part of me was greatly relieved you announced you'd rule beside me. There's no one in all of Ferelden I'd want more at my side." His hands slid up to hold her armored shoulders, his lips caressed her forehead and then he was gone.

§*~Later in the still of the night...~*§

Though the maids of Arl Eamon's estate had been kind enough to move her things into Alistair's room, no doubt thanks to the news of their engagement reaching their ears, Erilys stubbornly stayed in the room she was originally given upon their arrival in Denerim.

The soft coverlets were neatly draped over her while a familiar mountain of fur laid curled up at her covered feet. Unable to sleep, all she could do was lay there and think of her mother, father, and Fergus. She was a little girl again, hurt and confused with matters of the heart and no one to turn to. No mother to gently pet her hair and hug her close. No soothing words from a father she adored and no pranks from a brother to keep her mind occupied.

That Alistair would have severed their relationship even though he loved her bothered her to no end. She'd have fought tooth and nail to keep their love if need be. She buried her face into a pillow as familiar teasing words echoed in her ears. This is why you let father and I meet the men you fancy first, sister dear.

"Where are you, Fergus?" The weight of the bed shifted as Atticus sleepily made his way to slumber at his mistress's side. Erilys was more than happy to lay an arm over her dear, dear hound. "We'll find him won't we?"

Atticus merely whined as he rested his snout on his front paws, listening to his mistress continue, "I hate feeling like this. Things were so certain before. Kill darkspawn, kill the archdemon, save the kingdom." Her fingers slid along the soft fur of the hound beside her, "When did everything get so complicated?"

If there was ever a harsh lesson the past year had taught her was that nothing was ever constant. Happiness, peace… love. All could be gone in an instant.

As the door to her room slowly opened, she quickly turned her head away from the entrance, feigning sleep to dissuade any unwanted conversation. Perhaps she was acting as a child, but it was too soon for her.

Hushed footsteps slowly made their way to her bed; the weight off it shifted slightly as a knee no doubt came to rest on its edge as a warm hand gently caressed her cheek. Was it pride that kept her eyes shut? That kept her from welcoming him into her bed with an embrace while instead the man she loved gingerly slipped into her bed, careful to not wake the woman he thought asleep.

Atticus slipped off the bed and trotted toward the dead hearth, the fire long since spent earlier in the evening.

Only as Alistair pulled her close, molding his frame against hers from behind, did Erilys finally open her eyes. This closeness, this warmth that she craved so much from the man beside her: She would fight a thousand archdemons if it meant she could keep it. That Alistair would have left her because she would not likely conceive his child hurt her. How could he not want to keep what they had? Erilys Cousland knew though, she knew deep inside that politically it would have been the right decision.

She pushed herself up, her crimson hair cascading around her shoulders and down her back. As she regarded the man beside her carefully, Alistair could only look up quizzically no doubt wanting to know what was swirling within her pretty little head.

"What's wrong?" He scratched at the stubble on his chin, his gaze sleepy.

Erilys climbed atop him, pulling his nightshirt up then quickly making short work of the laces of his small clothes. "If they are to make demands of an heir from us," She looked down at him, the determined gaze of her green eyes stilled him, "and we aren't able to produce one, damn it all Alistair. It won't be from lack of trying."

His hands caught her wrists in his, "Erilys." She frowned and he sighed. "I'm sorry."

Such simple words and they shattered what flimsy resolve she had feebly gathered only moments before. She sank atop him, a hand soothed her back as she rest her cheek upon a firm shoulder, moments passing, until finally the young woman settled comfortable beside her love.

"When this is all over, will you help me?" Her voice was muffled by the coverlet that was pressed against her lips.

"With what?"

She hugged him close, "Help me find, Fergus." He simply nodded in response.

Perhaps Alistair understood. If Fergus was found, alive and well by some blessing by the Maker, then perhaps, at very least, the Cousland line could live on and not only would she have her brother back but the damning of the Joining could partially be washed away from her mind.

*PHEW* I can't apologize enough for the hiatus that this story has suffered through. So much has happened since November. Good things though! Been asked to illustrate a couple of children books as well as starting to submit concept art for a game in the works for Sie Ent, a new game company! :D There they have dubbed me "Illustrator of Hot Men." I can't tell you how giddy I've been. Things have been so rough mentally the past two years and finally things have started to look up. Thank you so much for your kind reviews and your patience. :) I know I have a terrible habit of endbeforeitis but this is one story I am determined to see finished.

Want to give another shout out to my bestfriend and beta, Icey_Cold, and if you haven't read her Loghain/Cousland fic, Trovommi Amor, that's posted here on the site I urge you to read it. Great stuff. Without her my writings would be giberrish and random notes of DAISY DAISY would echo through out the paragraphs. I'm INSANE. (O_O)Oh! And there are three pieces of art I've drawn that is related to the fic whose links have been posted in my profile. If any other artwork is added I'll be sure to let you know in the next snippet should anymore be conjured up.

Anyways enjoy and if you're up to it, let me know what y'all think. Thanks guys!