Chapter Text
To Lady Meriana Cousland Guerrin, Hero of Ferelden, Arlessa of Amaranthine, and most importantly, cousin:
Dearest Meri,
You're going to hear some things said about me. Maybe you already have, the rumors outpacing my explanation. Maker knows that gossip travels faster than truth. I can't predict how the stories will twist and change by the time they reach you, but I can guess the core of what you'll hear:
Alexia Cousland is a foreign temptress come to seduce the king away from his wife, to set herself up as royal mistress and manipulate the court to weaken Ferelden from within.
Or perhaps she’s simply a Marcher whore working her way into the king's bed for her own profit.
The truth is both somewhat more complicated and perfectly simple. I love him.
In the months since I came to court, I fell in love with Alistair. Not the king of Ferelden. Alistair. I love him for himself, the sweet, stubborn, wonderful man underneath all the uncomfortable trappings of royalty that suit him far better than he’ll ever realize. I don't care about his title or power, the throne and the kingdom. I would gladly be his if he had truly been the hapless guardsman I met on the way to the practice yards my second day in Denerim.
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Alexia frowned critically at her reflection in the glass, then nodded. It should do. The fashions weren’t too different between Ferelden and the Marches. Maker be praised her long-lost relatives weren’t living in Orlais…
Of course, that didn’t mean her gown and hair were suitable for court. Just because she could dress appropriately for the merchant’s guild didn’t mean she would fit in here. Would Meri believe her if she pleaded travel weariness as an excuse to hide in her rooms and sneak off to the practice yards? No, probably not for a third day in a row. That excuse had to be wearing thin by now.
She never should have let Fergus talk her into going to Denerim in the first place. Alexia had been perfectly comfortable in Highever, helping coordinate the logistics of restoring the keep and community to what it had been before the war. She should have stayed there instead of agreeing to the insane plan of sending her to visit Meri at court.
When Meri arrived at the door to her guest quarters to ask if she was ready, Alexia had her argument all prepared. “Couldn’t I go back to Highever instead? There’s so much to be done, and I’m sure Fergus could use the help. That’s why I came in the first place, after all.”
Meri shook her head with a bright smile. “Fergus wouldn’t have suggested you come visit me if he couldn’t spare you for a bit. I’m sure things are fine, and the work will wait. Besides, you can’t leave court without being formally presented; someone will decide you’re a Marcher spy.”
Alexia groaned.
“You’re only nervous because you don’t know anyone.” Meri took her arm and drew her out into the hallway. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to a few people so you aren’t stuck sitting around bored when I’m busy all day.”
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Alistair stalked through the back hallways on his way to meet the Antivan ambassador. He’d accepted the meeting as inevitable, but that didn’t mean he had to look forward to it.
Turning a corner, he caught sight of Meri at the far end of the corridor; no matter how far away, he’d always know it was her. Another gowned woman walked at her side, so he resisted the urge to jog down to meet her. He ought to maintain the royal dignity in case Meri’s guest was important; she’d scold him later if he made himself look ridiculous in front of visiting nobility. And he hated to disappoint her any more than necessary.
As they got closer, he recognized the woman with Meri as Alexia. Maybe he’d finally find out what she was doing at court. She’d mentioned being from a merchant family, so maybe the trade negotiations. One set or another of them.
A smile spread across Meri’s face that warmed something in his chest, and she nodded to Alexia. “Here’s a good starting place.”
Alexia ought to look smaller not wearing full plate, but Alistair wasn’t sure she did. Especially next to Meri. Alexia wore a gown as comfortably as she had armor, but she would never be as graceful or slender as Meri. Alexia stood several inches taller and had the shoulders and arms she’d need to swing that greatsword around effectively.
Meri’s smile drew his attention back. “I’m glad we ran into you. Alistair, let me present my cousin Alexia Cousland, visiting from the Free Marches. Alexia, may I introduce His Majesty Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden.”
Normally, he would chide Meri for using so many titles, but at the moment his brain was stuck on the word cousin. He stared back and forth between the two of them, searching for similarities. Was a family resemblance what had drawn him to Alexia the other morning? His gaze latched onto her eyes, grey and wide with surprise, nothing like Meri’s bright emerald.
Alexia dipped into a proper curtsey, mostly steady despite the clear shock on her face. “Your Majesty.” Her voice, so steady and sure in the practice yard, had become a barely audible murmur.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Meri’s cousin?”
Alexia’s bowed head snapped up, and her eyebrows lifted. “That was not the biggest omission in our first introduction. Your Majesty.”
She delivered his title with a note of reproach that Alistair found he liked far more than her earlier deference.
“You two have met?” Meri’s brow furrowed as she stared between the two of them.
Alexia rose the rest of the way from her curtsey, turning to her cousin. Maker, her cousin.
“He told me he was a guard.”
“I did not!” Alistair appealed to Meri in defense. “I never said that.”
Alexia turned to him, her eyes flashing and mouth half open to retort. Then she paused, running the events in her memory. Her lips pursed into a wry smirk and she gave him what he could only describe as an amused glare.
Looking back at Meri, Alexia corrected herself. “He let me assume he was a guard.”
Blinking, Meri frowned at the byplay. “What exactly happened here?”
“Sparring practice.”
“She gave me bruises.”
While Meri tried to sort out their simultaneous answers, Alexia turned that grin back at him. “If you don’t want to get bruised, wear heavier armor next time you challenge someone who fights with a greatsword.”
Alistair would have pointed out that he hadn’t known about her oversized sword when he invited himself along to her practice session, but before he opened his mouth, she blanched and turned to Meri with a wide-eyed look of horror.
“I wouldn’t have hit him if I knew he was the king!”
“See? That’s why I don’t like telling people.” Alistair folded his arms to emphasize his point in this ongoing argument Meri always seemed to be winning.
Laughing, Meri waved her hands to quiet them both. “I was planning to show Alexia around and introduce her to people this afternoon, but it sounds like she’s doing better at making new acquaintances than I realized. Maybe I should leave you to meeting people on your own, cousin.”
“Only if you want her to injure them.” Alistair grinned with an exaggerated wince as he unfolded his arms.
Alexia’s eyes went immediately to his right shoulder, the site of the most impressive bruise he’d picked up in their sparring match, and her lips pinched together guiltily. She remembered exactly where she’d hit him?
Meri laughed again. “All right. Maybe we’ll stay with the original plan of proper, polite introductions. And you,” she poked Alistair in the bicep, drawing a real wince this time, “are late for a meeting with the Antivan ambassador.”
Alistair sighed, remembering his earlier destination. “I would have been on time if someone hadn’t stopped me for a very important conversation.”
“Go on, then. You’ll have plenty of time to fight with my cousin later.”
Alistair laughed, setting off down the corridor again. He tossed back a final word over his shoulder. “Just warn me when she’s going to be armed.”
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Alexia watched him go, and once he was safely around a corner and out of sight, she dropped her head into her hands. “Now can I please go back to Highever?”
“Not a chance.” Meri sounded entirely too cheerful, but then she turned serious. “You have to stay at least until the wedding. Since Fergus isn’t coming, I need someone here who’s family.”
Alexia instantly felt guilty. How could she even think of leaving Meri when a distant cousin she barely knew was the closest thing she had to family to hold onto. “Of course I’ll stay for your wedding.” She grinned, hoping to distract Meri from her darkening thoughts. “But I’m blaming you if I get arrested for treason because I attacked the king with a greatsword.”
“Blaming me?” Meri raised a hand to her chest in exaggerated shock. “I didn’t tell you to hit him.”
“I’m disappointed in your lack of family loyalty.” Alexia responded with a mock sigh. “Do you think I can claim to be exempt because I’m a Marcher? Don’t you have to be a subject of a kingdom to commit treason?”
“I’m not sure attempted assassination at the behest of a foreign power is a better charge.” Meri laughed at Alexia’s genuine expression of concern. “Don’t worry about it, Lexia. Alistair would never abuse his power like that. Besides, I think he kind of likes you.”
He liked her? Alexia couldn’t believe a king would think much of anything of her. Of course, she’d liked him, too… at least as a guardsman she could talk and spar and joke with. A king, though? She didn’t even know how she was supposed to talk to royalty. But taunts about poor armor quality probably weren’t anywhere on the list of approved conversation. She’d been insufferably disrespectful, and Meri thought he might like her?
Alexia regarded her cousin skeptically, then shrugged. “Well, if hitting people with a greatsword is the way to make friends in Denerim, maybe I’m better prepared here than I thought.”
Laughing, Meri tilted her head for them to continue their interrupted walk. “Please don’t try that method with any of the arlessas we’re going to meet this afternoon.” She thought for a moment. “Except possibly Lady Sophia. She was a friend of mother’s and might actually welcome it.”