When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Taking Care of Business

Alistair waited while everyone else found seats. Except Dorothea, who stood with her fists on her hips. "Did you change genders while I was gone?" he asked mildly.

Dorothea sputtered a bit, but took a seat. Alistair advanced across the room toward the Grand Cleric, who sat behind her desk.

He folded his arms. "Now, you've all had your say. You've all had a lot to say. And I have waited. And watched. And listened." He looked at Eamon, then his gaze traveled over Isolde and to the Grand Cleric. "The Chantry taught me to do that. So, thanks." He smiled thinly. "I like to see the whole picture—I'm not too fond of surprises. So now I know what you all want; you know what I want. But I know something the rest of you—including my beautiful but stubborn lover back there—don't seem to realize."

"Pray tell, what might that be, Your Majesty?" the Grand Cleric asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Put simply, I may be the only person here who actually understands the balance of power in Ferelden." Alistair looked at Teagan. "I take that back. Teagan understands politics entirely too well to be caught on the wrong side. And, of course, underestimating Isolde is always a mistake." His eyes rested on Isolde's fuming face for a moment, and he laughed quietly. "I suspect you know what I know, my lady, which is why you gathered your pawns in my absence. You knew it would take all three of them working in concert to oppose me successfully. It must have been a lot of very delicate work, trying to maneuver each of them without them knowing you were working on the others. Tell me," he said, stepping closer to Isolde's chair and looking down at her. "Which one was the most difficult to endure in bed, my lady?"

Her eyes widened at the out-of-character vulgarity.

Alistair chuckled. "Isolde, you seem to have forgotten that I'm not ten anymore. Or twenty." He looked at Eamon, Dorothea, and the Grand Cleric in turn. "So here's the plan, as I understand it: in my absence you discredit me with rumors; get the Grand Cleric to declare me unfit; exile me off somewhere barren and desolate and hard to return from; put Duncan on the throne; and then," he looked back at Isolde, his anger plain on his face, "turn the country over to the Empress for a nice reward. Isn't that right, my lady?!" He thundered the question at her, and she shrank back in the chair in spite of herself. Dorothea looked shocked. Eamon's face slackened, sorrow and betrayal evident in the compression of his lips and the smoldering coals of his eyes as he stared at his wife. The Grand Cleric raised her eyebrows, settling back into her chair.

Thora was stunned—she'd never even considered that angle of the issue. Oghren looked as at sea as she was, but Anders was nodding, and Teagan was smiling.

"All the fighting, all the years of war, and we were going to lose the country because you two are weak-minded idiots," Alistair shouted, glaring at Eamon and Dorothea. "And because I trusted my throne to the wrong people. It won't happen again." He took a deep breath, getting his temper under control. "This is why your little scheme was bound to fall apart as soon as I came back: my people love me. And they love Thora. It's as simple as that." He looked at the Grand Cleric. "The Chantry rules through fear, and people resent the Chantry's high-handedness and rigidity. I'm considered a fair and approachable leader, and because I've spent so much time on the march, amongst the people, they feel I understand and sympathize with their troubles. Which I do." He looked at Eamon. "Your family is loved, because of your sister ... but even though she seems to have been a harder worker and more competent monarch than my father, the country still remembers him with near-fanatical devotion, and that carries over to me. And in addition, I'm young. I'm seen as the future of the country, whereas your name is still tied to the past." He looked at Dorothea, and his anger softened a bit. "And unfortunately, my Queen, you simply have never been able to overcome the romantic legend of the Blight. Two young people save the country and improbably fall in love on their way." He looked at Thora, standing by the door still. "In the minds and hearts of many Fereldans, I still belong with that extraordinary woman back there. I'm sorry you got caught up in that," he said to Dorothea. "If I could have done things differently, I would have."