Chapter 162: Birthday Surprise

“Faren?” I called. “I’ve brought you a visitor.”

And then I stopped, because a mostly-naked Faren was perched on the side of his bed, a basin of steaming water on a nearby table, washing himself with shaking hands. Because of course he is.

I heard Sigrun squeak, and I slapped one hand over her eyes, the other over my own.

“You could have asked us to wait!” I scolded him. Well, that’s a sight I can’t un-see!

“I did,” he croaked, voice hoarse. “You just couldn’t hear me.”

“What in the world is wrong with your throat?” I turned around to face the door, pulling Sigrun with me and dropping my hands.

“Donal said it’s just overuse after too long not using my voice. I guess it was noisy last night – I must have been yelling.”

I heard a yelp; before I could even think to check, Sigrun had darted over to the side of the bed, catching the weak, over-balanced dwarf before he could fall. She helped him lay back, lifting his legs for him, and he pulled the blankets up self-consciously; both dwarves were scarlet-faced and avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks,” Faren muttered, mortified, and Sigrun grunted in response, gruff in her embarrassment.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from my belly. “Well, now you two have officially met. Faren, this is Sigrun. She was recruited from the Legion of the Dead. And she’s been helping take care of you since we were rescued.”

Sigrun shot me a dirty look while Faren’s was more quizzical – then both forced neutral smiles onto their faces, turning to greet each other for the official first time.

“Thank you,” Faren smiled more sincerely now. “You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. Donal tells me that if I hadn’t been cared for so well, I’d be having a lot more trouble with my recovery.”

Sigrun blushed again. “It was nothing. It needed to be done, that’s all.”

“Well, I owe you one, anyway. So - Legion of the Dead and a Warden, hey? I didn’t know you could be both.”

Sigrun responded, explaining her unusual circumstances to the recently-comatose Warden; I watched them talk for a few minutes before slipping out silently once it was clear they’d both relaxed somewhat. That’s all I can do for Sigrun – the rest is up to them.

I’d just sat down to start on my never-ending pile of paperwork when Seranni appeared at my door.

“Spar?” she asked. “Today is my last chance before we leave for the Deep Roads.”

The poor girl looked positively grey at the thought of their trip, and I put my quill down with a sigh. “Yes, please.” I think we could both use the exercise – and the distraction.

I ran upstairs to change into armor, then met Seranni outside. To my surprise, the Tranquil recruit, Lana, was also there, wearing leather armour and awkwardly holding a small crossbow. Several bolts stuck out from the archery butts at odd angles.

“Greetings, your Highness,” the pretty woman hailed me in her toneless, creepy voice. “I apologise if I am in your way.”

“Not at all.” I worked to keep my discomfort from showing on my face. “And please, call me Sierra. Don’t let me interrupt you.” I picked up a set of practice daggers and hefted them, testing their weight.

The Tranquil paused a moment, and I eyed her curiously. She was pretty – taller than I, with gorgeous dark hair and alabaster skin, her frame a little curvier than mine. The sunburst tattoo on her forehead was faded, and her bangs covered it; when she smiled, though it seemed mechanical, you could almost mistake her for a normal person.

“Commander Aedan has directed me to attempt to learn more about hand-to-hand combat. Would I be permitted to join you?”

I took a breath before replying. I had to admit that, through no fault of her own, the former mage freaked me out. But that was hardly fair – and she was about to go into the Deep Roads, completely unprepared and reliant on the rest of the group to defend her. “Yes, of course.” I handed her the daggers I held and turned to find myself another pair.

I ended up spending more of my time teaching than sparring, watching Seranni and Lana and correcting their stances, shouting suggestions. We were joined by a handful of soldiers, and the two templar recruits – Fred and George, I called them. Soon I had them all organised into pairs, matching them up with someone of a differing style on purpose, with the two red-headed templars aiding me. Neither Seranni nor Lana were going to be the champion fighters of their Deep Roads group, but I felt better that both had at least some chance of defending themselves if the worst came to pass. They’re both better than I was at this stage!

I was favourably impressed by the two former templars – they were quite helpful, working with the warrior-types that I couldn’t assist, demonstrating the techniques they were suggesting. And Lana was treated no differently than any other soldier by either of them – nor did she hesitate to choose either as a partner when I gave her the choice. Here’s hoping that means we got two of the good ones!

Maeve, my elven maid, came to get me a couple of hours later. “I thought you might want to get cleaned up before supper,” she whispered to me, still anxious about not using a title when addressing me. It was an unusual suggestion, but she was strangely evasive when I tried to question her further. I complied, following her up to my quarters, shucking my armour and sinking into the bath at her direction, stressing about what it could mean. If someone jumps out of a cake yelling ‘surprise’, I’m not going to be impressed. I allowed the maid to fuss over me, washing and drying my hair and lacing me into a fancy dress I’d never seen before. It was beautiful, a deep blue that matched the colour from the Warden tabard, with a flowing, swirling skirt and a daring neckline. It fit like a glove, and I admired it briefly – when I noticed Maeve pulling out an extensive array of cosmetics from a drawer in a side table I’d never looked in.

“I don’t recall ordering these,” I commented, more and more convinced a surprise party was in my future. “I don’t usually wear them.”

Maeve looked horrified. “Of course you need them! You’re a princess of Ferelden. You need to be able to look the part!”

I sighed glumly and submitted, allowing the woman to slather and dab to her heart’s content. Being a princess is just as bad as I thought it would be. I tried not to grumble at the elf, who was probably just following orders, and I feigned approval of the image she showed me in a small hand mirror when she was done.

And I did look nice, there was no denying it. Other than my engagement and my wedding, I hadn’t dressed up much since coming to Thedas, and I couldn’t help the genuine smile that nudged its way onto my face. Why am I being so cranky about this, anyway? Honestly. So what if it’s a party, Sierra? For the first time in your life, you have people to party with. That’s a good thing, stupid.

I put on a pair of spectacularly Leliana-type shoes, some ridiculously frilly high-heeled monstrosities that had been dyed to match the dress. I raised my eyebrows at Maeve, who grinned impishly and pulled an envelope out of her pocket. It was sealed with wax, and I glanced at the imprint momentarily before stopping and looking again. What had appeared to be little more than a strange blob, on first glance, resolved itself into a tiny, surprisingly detailed... Maker preserve us, it’s a nug.

Laughing, I tore open the envelope and read the letter I knew could be from no one other than Leliana herself. And it was; she had sent two pages of elegantly swooping calligraphy – embarrassing me with the contrast to my ugly, clunky scrawl – detailing her travels for the past months. She’d gone to Haven initially, with a gaggle of Chantry scholars including Brother Genitivi; when they’d discovered that, as I’d predicted, the ruins were empty, the guardian and urn missing, she’d left the confused group under the guidance of some self-important, political figure named Roderick – a rising star within the Chantry, she’d written, who’d irritated as many people as he’d impressed – and had then gone to Val Royeaux, where she’d commissioned the dress and shoes for me. I smiled down at the smooth fabric draped around me, both amused and secretly pleased that she’d remembered my birthday. And then immediately felt guilty – I didn’t have the slightest clue when the bard’s birthday was. Nor my husband’s, if I’m honest.

I put the letter aside for more thorough reading later, resolving to write to the Grand Cleric and wheedle Leliana’s birthday from her ... and to find out Alistair’s – and Zev’s – from Aedan before he left for the Deep Roads. I’d just stood up when Alistair bustled through the door of our suite. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me, and I smiled as he examined me with surprise – and no small amount of lust – on his face. Without saying anything, he finally came up to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for a passionate kiss. I returned it, giggling against his lips as he squeezed me closer to him, one of his hands cradling my nape and the other clutching my waist possessively.

The kiss didn’t let up until we heard poor Maeve clear her throat loudly; Alistair pulled away just slightly, pressing our foreheads together, his face flaming as he realised we hadn’t been alone. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tilting my head just enough to catch the elf’s eye. “I believe that’s about as solid an endorsement of your skill as you’re going to get.”

My maid laughed, giving us that same big-eyed, cutesy look most people reserve for babies, or puppies; I stuck my tongue out at her as Alistair grumbled something unintelligible and pulled away.

“Yes, well, now that I’ve totally embarrassed myself, if you would excuse me...” he whined, shooing the petite woman towards the hallway, shutting the door in her smirking face. “I need to get dressed.”

I giggled and sat down to watch him, dog-whistling with appreciation when he shucked his tunic and began hastily wiping himself down with a washcloth and my little shower head. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at me, before working his way into new, dark grey trousers and doublet with a blue formal shirt that matched my gown underneath. I teased him as he messed with his hair, but finally we were both ready, and he held his arm out for me chivalrously.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I grumped, though I couldn’t entirely hide an indulgent smile.

He grinned at me, and then pulled me in quickly and kissed me breathless before resuming his stance and leading me out of our suite while I was still dazed. “Nope,” he answered belatedly, and I giggled.

I assumed our destination would be the dining room – there really wasn’t anywhere else, unless I’d completely mistaken his intentions and rather than the surprise party I was expecting, we were headed for something else. To my surprise, however, he led me down to the main doors of the Keep, and Levi was standing there waiting with cloaks for both of us. I raised my eyebrows at Alistair as Levi settled the cloak on my shoulders before donning one of his own; Alistair just smirked at me, and Levi rolled his eyes.

“If you would?” My seneschal gestured for me to go ahead, and Alistair slipped his arm around my waist as we stepped out into the freezing courtyard. I was glad he had, as my ridiculous, pointed, delicate Orlesian shoes slipped on the ice and I flailed as my feet tried to go out from under me. Alistair simply held me up, steadying me until my balance returned. I flushed and smiled ruefully at him, and he just winked and resettled his grip as we shuffled across the courtyard.