Alistair found Gwendolyn in their bedroom, wrapped up in the bright red blankets that decorated their bed in the midsummer. The dress she had worn to meet with the Wardens and Arl Eamon was draped over a nearby chair for when she would need to redress herself. Alistair could not see her face, but he knew she would be upset. He crawled into bed beside her with care, gathering her limp form into his arms and lifting her to his chest. Her hair and the blanket near her face were wet. She sobbed once, and he knew her to be crying. This was the only provocation he needed to hold her closer, his hands finding her bare stomach as he reached into the blanket for her. She must have desired freedom from the tight dress, and the only way she could find it was through removing it. She seemed so upset that she must have ignored the thought of more comfortable clothing entirely. She sobbed against him, and Alistair sighed.

"It's alright, Gwen. Arl Eamon is never going to convince me to do anything involving another woman. I asked him to go back to Redcliffe to give us some space. It's best for all of us, really. He was working himself to death."

She lifted her head from its blanket prison to look at him. Behind her bloodshot eyes was a surprised glimmer. Did she think he relied on Eamon's council so much that he never planned to send him away, or was it the simple gesture of protecting her like that which made her look at him with those big eyes in that way?

"Are you ready for that, Alistair?" She sobbed again," Are you ready for us to do this without him?"

He kissed her on her forehead," Yes. I am. When we leave to campaign in the Bannorn, I'm going to bring several books on governance so I can learn a bit about this whole business when I'm doing something I already know how to do: killing darkspawn. In the meantime, I'll rely on your judgment when it comes to these things. It won't be long before we leave again, and we need to be sure that Denerim and the Palace will be fine without us. We need to appoint a new Arl to Denerim."

"Well, that's not too much to do in two days," she sniffled, " some of the nobles already sent in recommendations. We can choose the most popular from them and send for the one that we need. Surely someone can stay to introduce them to their duties."

Maker, even when her eyes were red and puffy and her nose running, Gwendolyn was still so beautiful to him. There was something endearing about her in such a state, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and trying her best to quiet her sobs. He felt the need to hold and comfort her. Alistair never felt so lost in her changing moods as he did with Linara. He liked that Gwendolyn had predictable fears and worries. It made his job easier.

"And about children, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'm not going to cast you off. I'm no fool. It would be my fault if we don't have an heir. I would be very happy if we did have a child, but I know that even with Lydia's potions, it may not be possible. I am very thankful for you, Gwen. If it weren't for you, I don't think I could do this at all."

She decided to hug onto him now, a sign of her affection at his words.

"And I am thankful for you, Alistair. . . Do we have anything else to do today?"

"No, I don't think so. I vote that we lay in bed all day and never leave."

He smiled at her, a flirtatious tone coming out in his voice. He just wanted her to feel better. If it meant locking themselves up in their bedroom and simply being together all day, then he would allow it. She seemed shaken enough by their brief meeting, he wanted to spare her anymore. He never wanted her to hear things like that again. If Eamon ever thought to suggest divorcing her, it would be met with a heavy dose of anger.

"I like that idea," she said.

A smile passed over her face, brightening up her sad expression. At this, Alistair kicked off his boots, brought his legs up into the bed with him, and got as comfortable as possible lying in bed with his wife. As he had proposed, they laid in bed together for the remainder of a day, talking together about what they would need to prepare before they left for the Bannorn. Once that dull conversation died away, they spent the rest of their day together in passionate bliss. They took their evening meal in bed and finished their night in the very way they passed the time in the final days of their honeymoon. If they were to have a child, it would be nights like these that would highly improve their chances.

As their day together came to an end, Gwendolyn separated herself from their bed and settled in front of a mirror. Alistair watched her as she brushed away all the knots that together they had put into her hair, a content and happy air surrounding her. He did not feel moved to clothe himself for the night and neither did his wife. He did not know what mesmerized him more, the way her hands worked with her hair as she wound it into a braid for the night or the way her naked body moved in the mirror.

"We should do this often. We're young and recently married.. No one can tell us it isn't right," she said, shocking him from his stare.

"Did you like everything we did today?"

"I did."

Gwendolyn stood up to approach him again, crawling into bed and sliding underneath the covers to fit herself together with him. His arms wound around her body instinctively, and she let out a contented sigh as he squeezed her close.

"Thank you, Alistair. Thank you for making me feel better about today."

He rolled onto his side to get a better look at her, and together they adjusted to the position. Neither of them wanted to let go, and in the dim firelight, Alistair thought he saw a well of tears forming in her eyes again.

"Are you crying again? Why are you crying if you feel better?"

He ran his thumb gently underneath her right eye, and sure enough he felt the tears rush out to meet him. He wiped them away as she smiled up at him and laughed to herself. Crying and laughing at once? Maybe he was wrong to say she was more predictable than Linara.

"I don't know. Today just made me feel like you valued me, really valued me. It felt like you weren't just comforting me because you had to."

"Well, I comforted you because I wanted to. I don't like seeing you upset."

She smiled again as she closed her eyes, content with his answer. Her forehead pressed against his chest as she fell quiet.

"Good night, Gwen."

"Good night, Alistair."

Alistair held her as tightly to him as she would allow, ever aware of her breath as she drifted into dreams of her own. He remained awake, his thoughts on her unease surrounding the idea of giving him an heir. As their passionate day of lazy lovemaking began, she had been insistent to head straight for a vial of Lydia's magical baby-making potions. He had never been very concerned with it, but Gwendolyn feared being unable to provide him with an heir. It had been ever present in their sexual relationship, and it was the only reason she had been so forward in approaching him during their brief honeymoon.

She slept soundly now, all of her fears having been soothed away by the day they had put behind them where nothing entered their bedroom but food and a needy mabari. Alistair was determined to make her forget those fears and to show her that he valued her beyond that one thing that seemed to matter so much. If the day he had spent with her was a show of anything, it would be of his desire for her that was not influenced by need to have a child. All day he had kissed her and held her and made love to her, often without her insistence. She had been giddy and excited each time he would put a conversation on hold to show her these affections. More than anything, he had been glad that this soothed away her fear so that she may sleep in his arms free of words that had never been spoken. In time, he would purge these fears from her completely.

In the morning, they set to the real work. The Warden Emeline visited briefly before continuing on her way to Vigil's Keep, leaving King Maric's sword with Alistair. She insisted he wear it always as a sign of respect to where he came from, and she explained that Anora laid claim to Cailan's armor when she had returned to the Teryna's estate. Both of them thought it better that way. However, the king could not help but notice the dark cloud of sadness that had come over the Warden as a new development since he saw her the day before. She appeared so downtrodden and unhappy that he swore she would be going on her Calling in a matter of days. He had a feeling it had something to do with Loghain as Ser Cauthrien left her post at the Palace to become a Warden and Ser Ramsey rose to command the Royal Guard.

Alistair and Gwendolyn found that many of the noblemen had put in their recommendations for a young man who during Loghain's brief rule as Regent to Anora harbored those who would speak out against him. He had been the son of a Bann near the city of Orzammar, and he had come to be very familiar with handling a trade center. He seemed suitable for the position, and Gwendolyn wrote to him immediately. Surely the boy's father would come to help make him comfortable, and would be beneficial in helping him adjust to his new surroundings.

Ser Ramsey volunteered to lead the battalion of soldiers who would join Ferelden's monarchs during their campaign to the Bannorn. It was decided that a small force would remain behind to protect the palace and help the newly appointed Arl of Denerim maintain peace and order in the city. He had little experience in commanding a force of that size, but in the days of preparation Gwendolyn would see him nose deep into a book on military tactics just as she found Alistair diligently reading about Ferelden's politics. She was proud of them both for taking their duty seriously.

Ser Cullen and the young mage Lydia also volunteered to join Alistair and Gwendolyn for the campaign. Lydia insisted she be with the Queen every day in case a pregnancy was to come to fruition during the campaign. Further exposure to darkspawn taint would put Gwendolyn and the baby in jeopardy if the pregnancy went unnoticed, and that was enough for Alistair to immediately accept their presence. Lydia went to work immediately to concoct yet another potion for the Queen's delight to protect her entire body from what would surely befall her in the days to come. There would be no precaution too great to keep her safe from the corruption.

When she was not bent over a stack of papers, Gwendolyn went to work bringing the fighting strength back to her arms. All day she sparred with whoever would raise their arm against their Queen, and Alistair found her no more attractive than when she came to their room after a long day's practice, sweaty and dirty from her hard work. These were the nights that reminded him most of Linara, but more and more his memories of the elf were clouded by sweet dreams of his wife.

After the day Alistair spent with her in their bedroom, locked away from the worries of their station, Gwendolyn never spoke of her fears centering on giving him a child. Rather, she seemed excitable at the mention of a child. Perhaps she believed so strongly in Lydia's concoctions that she believed herself to be carrying a babe inside of her already. She never said anything to confirm such a thought, but she was so adamant about preparations. For all he knew, she might have been right to think about it.

They began marching for Vigil's Keep early in the morning on the third day. As the people of Denerim had following their wedding, they gathered outside of their homes to see their King and Queen leave the city in order to defend the Bannorns from the straying darkspawn. Alistair followed in step behind Gwendolyn, who waved and smiled and stopped from time to time to give her thanks to the people. He found that she had a knack for the social part of ruling, and he was glad for it. She gave him a path to follow when he did not know what to do.