About this image

Denerim

The next morning the weary group headed to Denerim early, eager to take advantage of the comforts the city could offer them. Alistair was good to his word and ordered the best room at the best inn, including a bed that could hold four people comfortably. “Room to move around, I guess,” he said as he stood looking at it. “I can do that.” Rosalyn laughed at his face as he stared.
“I don’t think we’ll need that much room,” she replied, still laughing. “Shouldn’t we get a smaller one? I could get lost in there.”
“No way! I said the best room, best bed, in the best inn and this is it. Besides, I’d never let you get lost.” He put his arms around her, bending to kiss her. She responded by encircling his neck with her arms, then squealing as he lifted her up and tossed her on the bed.
“Alistair!” she cried. He laughed and launched himself at the bed, landing next to her.
“See? Not so hard to get lost. Care for a tumble, milady?”
Rosalyn shook her head sadly, “We can’t and you know it. We have armor to get repaired, weapons to be mended, supplies to purchase and you have to go see the Arl’s seneschal at the estate. There are probably a dozen missives with both our names on them. And you wanted to find your sister, too.”
He sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “You’re right. Let’s work really hard and fast, get them all done and meet back here. Then we’ll order some food and not answer the door for a week.”
“That’s a plan I like,” she agreed, “I’ll see you later.” She kissed him hard, bringing out a moan of pleasure. He reached for her to draw her back but she was too fast, scooting off the bed before he could get a grip.
“You are a cruel woman sometimes, love,” he complained.
“It’s good for you. Makes you want me more. Get up and let’s go. Where to first?”
“The estate first. In case there’s anything urgent,” he replied as he got up.
They grabbed Leliana and Sten and headed out the door, giving Zevran, Jowan and Morrigan orders to locate good but reasonably priced merchants for their supply needs. Wynne stayed at the end to take care of the mending and to brew some potions for the group. Both groups left, splitting ways in the street.
Walking through the market, they passed the Alienage gate only to find it still locked and inaccessible. Rosalyn’s eyes were misty as she thought of her family trapped inside with no hope. When Alistair saw her he motioned to Leliana and whispered to her. She nodded and left with Sten following. “What was that about?” Rosalyn asked.
“I sent them to see if there is any more information on the Alienage. She’s pretty and sly, so she can find things out. Sten is along for looks and her protection. Let’s see what she comes up with,” he answered. “I promised we’d do something and I’m going to.”
Rosalyn looked up at him, “You did,” she said softly so only he could hear.
He smiled and leaned down, whispering in her ear, “I promise.” She smiled and nodded as he said, “I will get them out.”
They continued on to the estate and had walked about a hundred yards when Alistair turned to her and said, “Wait right here.” He disappeared into the crowd of shoppers at the market for a few minutes, returning with two packages wrapped in brown paper. He slipped one under his arm and the other he handed to Rosalyn. “For you, milady.”
“What’s all this?” she exclaimed as she took the package, “Did I miss something? My nameday isn’t until next month.”
“Really? What day? I’ll have to remember.”
“It’s the twelfth. What is it, really?”
“Call it an early Nameday present, if you will. I saw it when we were here before and had to get it for you. I’ve been saving.”
Rosalyn slowly opened the paper to reveal a small amulet of silverite in the shape of a rose, polished to a high gleam, hanging from a silver chain. “What…Alistair! You really shouldn’t have. That money should be spent on yourself, not me. Your socks all have holes in them and you need new shirts and breeks.”
“Wynne is knitting me new socks as we speak and Leliana promised to mend my breeks and shirts and make me some new ones. I wanted you to have it. It’s your favorite.” He took the amulet and helped her put it on.
“So that’s why Wynne was staying in today. And it explains why she had to run out and buy some more wool. So what did you have to do to get them to help you?”
“I have to sharpen Leliana’s swords and daggers for a month and clean her armor.”
“And Wynne?”
“That’s what this is. She was adamant about it. It took me weeks to find it; had to call in every favor ever owed me.” He patted the package under his arm.
Rosalyn eyed the package suspiciously, “Do I want to know what it is?”
“Umm…probably not. It’s lyrium. She wants to make her own potions and while it’s legal for her to do it, it’s illegal for her to purchase the lyrium. I used my Templar contacts and here it is.”
“How much did you pay?” she asked warily.
“Two sovereigns for two pounds, refined. That’s better than the Chantry gets.”
“I could have gotten you five for that.”
He looked down at her admiringly, “Really? I guess I should have asked you. Leave it to me to fall in love with a smuggler and then not use her services.”
Rosalyn laughed, “Just as well. Most of my contacts are more likely to kill us as soon as deal with us now that we are Wardens. You didn’t do too badly on your own. I am very impressed. Makes me just want you more.”
He stepped closer and looked down at her, his gaze smoldering, “So you like the dangerous, shifty ones, do you?”
Her pulse raced, “I do.”
“So that means I can do this...” His mouth came down on hers in a possessive kiss, marking her as his own. Rosalyn moaned as she opened for him, tasting and touching, oblivious to the world around them. There was only Alistair.
A deep voice cleared his throat, “Excuse me. This is a public area.” They broke apart and looked to see a city guard standing next to them. “Take your doxy and move on ser.”
Alistair’s eyes flashed red at the man’s words, stepping towards the man in challenge. Rosalyn sensed his anger and took his arm. “Let’s go,” she said. He let her pull him away, the anger still burning bright.
They walked on for a hundred yards, allowing him a chance to cool off. When she sensed he had, she pulled him between two buildings near the Chantry, and took his face in her hands and kissed him. The tension and anger released as he took her in his arms. When he pulled away he said, “Thank you. I was going to hit him. You are no doxy and never have been, love.”
Rosalyn smiled as her heart warmed to hear his words. “I love you, Alistair,” she said. “Thank you for championing me.”
“I always will, love,” he told her.