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Alistair nodded at what he hoped were appropriate intervals as the banns continued their discussion about plans for the upcoming Satinalia festivities. He had admittedly stopped listening nearly half-an-hour ago, impatient for the meeting to end. While he understood that the people around him were excited for the approaching holiday, the discussions about it had made him painfully aware of Elissa’s absence. His days were often full of meetings, and so he usually found himself too occupied to really miss his wife. At times like this, however, his heart ached to see her again.
“...preparations for the masque?”
The room fell silent for just a moment too long before Alistair finally realized he had been addressed directly. “O-oh! They’re coming along just fine,” he fibbed with a small smile. He then made a mental note that he should actually check on the progress of everything that afternoon.
Satisfied murmurs rose up from the others in the room and Alistair leaned back in his chair, trying hard not to sigh aloud in relief. For the rest of the morning, he tried to force himself to remain alert and attentive, even as his attention threatened to wander back to Elissa. As the meeting finally drew to a close, Alistair rose from his chair and after a few quick farewells, he managed to slip out of the room. After a moment of deliberation, he decided to head up to his room. Thinking about his wife reminded him that he was due to write her a letter.
My dear wife,
I’m sorry for not writing sooner. Denerim has been busy with preparations for Satinalia, and of course you know I’ve been pulled every which way. Evidently, my opinion on which type of evergreens we decorate the castle with is extremely important.
All joking aside, I miss you terribly. With all this excitement about the masquerade, I find myself thinking of you often. It’s always been one of your favorite parts about the holidays and I admit it doesn't feel right not having you included in the planning process. Please know, though, that I have been trying to base my decisions on what you would say.
How is Val Royeaux? All fake smiles and hidden daggers, I assume? That is the sole reason I am glad that I was not able to join you in your travels, if only if it means I get to stay out of Orlais.
I sincerely hope I get to see you soon, my love.
Forever yours,
Alistair
Elissa smiled a little as she came to the end of the letter, fondly tracing her fingers over the parchment. She could almost hear Alistair’s voice as she read his words. After a few moments, however, she sighed and quietly folded the letter again, frowning. She missed her husband just as much and while she was overjoyed by his correspondence, it also served as a reminder that she was far from home. She should be in Denerim, serving as queen consort and helping to plan the festivities for Satinalia. Instead, she had to prioritize her duties as Warden-Commander. In moments like these, she couldn’t help but think it was unfair that her duties kept her from the one she loved the most.
At her feet, King borfed before nosing her leg with a soft whine.
She chuckled and reached down to pat his head. “I’m okay, King. I’m just missing Alistair a little bit.”
Her mabari hound whined again.
“Yes, I know you miss him, too.”
King borfed in response.
“Yes, we will definitely try to be home in time for Satinalia. I promise.”
He borfed one final time, his tail beginning to happily thump against the stone floor.
Elissa giggled a little and gave him a solid scratch behind his ears. “I know. It will be so nice to be back in Ferelden, away from all these snooty Orlesians.”
King growled a little bit at that.
“Me, too,” she agreed. She gave him one more solid pat on the head and then reached for a sheet of blank parchment, smoothing out its surface before she picked up her quill to compose a response.
“The queen consort”--Alistair’s heart swelled with hope--“has sent you a letter, your majesty.”
Alistair managed to keep the disappointment off his face. Barely. “Oh, uh, thank you,” he said, faking a smile as he accepted the letter from the courier. He glanced down at the wax seal bearing the familiar twin branches of the Cousland crest before breaking it to read the contents within.
My love,
I completely trust your judgement in matters of Satinalia decisions, so stop doubting yourself. I’m sure the festivities will be as lovely as ever. And you’re absolutely right--picking evergreens is serious business. It’s no surprise why everyone is deferring to you.
On a more somber note--I miss you just as terribly, if not more so. The Empress has been a lovely host--well, as lovely a host as she can be towards a Fereldan woman--but I long to be at home with you. Please know that I will try my damndest to be back in time for Satinalia. But, as you and are both aware, I can make no promises.
But even if something prevents me from coming home, always know that I love you. I am counting down the days until I can be in your arms once more.
Always,
Elissa
Underneath her signature, there was a large, inky paw print pressed into the parchment.
Underneath that was one more scribbled line: P.S. King says hello.
Alistair laughed a bit, wondering if the mabari had willingly agreed to include his signature or if the poor hound had been forced into it. Either way, the mental image of Elissa getting the proper amount of ink on his paw was amusing, enough to momentarily distract him from the disappointment that Elissa had been unable to guarantee her return to Denerim for the holidays. Still, just hearing back from her was enough for the time being.
“May I have this dance?”
Alistair turned at the sound of the familiar voice, hardly daring to hope that he wasn’t dreaming. Although she wore a simple leather mask in honor of the masquerade, he would recognize her sapphire-blue eyes anywhere.
“Oh, thank the Maker,” he breathed, overjoyed to see her. “And here I was beginning to think that I would have to subject some other poor soul to my two left feet.”
Elissa grinned in return. “Thank the Maker, indeed. The last thing we need is to offend the Bannorn.”
Alistair reached out to pull her into his arms, holding her close and not intending to let her go anytime soon. It did not take long for Elissa to snake her arms around his waist in return.
“I missed you…” he murmured.
“And I you,” she replied, her breath tickling his ear. “So much.”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better gift,” he added as he pulled back. He still held onto her, though, and offered her a grin.
“Oh, really now? Well, I suppose I’ll need to return your actual present, then.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
Elissa laughed and Alistair marveled at the sound, relishing the fact that he finally got to hear it in person once again. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her deeply, glad that his wife had actually managed to come home for Satinalia.