[PAST ] A Quiet Rendezvous

Magnus sat in a booth almost completely concealed by shadow...their booth.  He'd been back many times...mostly to remember the way things had been before everything got complicated.  But this time...this visit was filled with the exhilaration brought by a long-awaited rendezvous.  The idea that, after all this time, they would return to this dingy little tavern...to each other.  It was something he'd imagined more times than he'd ever admit.  

When he had entered, he'd nodded to Frederico who stood behind the bar.  That was enough to signal that he was not to be disturbed.  

And now he waited.

Was it possible to walk herself out of the present day reality, backwards through the past until she arrived in front of a younger Magnus, all dance and smiles? She had sent him a letter; requesting that he meet her at the place where they'd spent so much of their time. Enough time that every regular had once known her.

Funny enough, it was the same fucking tavern she'd met her husband in. A lot of memories there; a lot of history. But there was guilt here too.

Guilt in the way she craved Magnus' touch and his comfort, the words he could whisper into her ear. Guilt in the way that her children glanced at her, when they thought she wasn't looking. Some of them didn't wait for her gaze to be elsewhere before they sent scornful, fiery glares her way. The people reacted similarly. Francesco had been a King of his people. And the people had never been quite certain that his wife loved him; she'd acted so cold towards him in public...

Alfred had not sent word about her husband, so she had to go on. She had to manage this kingdom, a role she had never wanted to begin with. Thoughts of abdication, of fleeing Antiva with Magnus, were fleeting. But they were there, like intrusive ear-worms, demanding that she listen to them before she was able to chase them away.

Magnus was safe. Familiar.

Stable.

And she craved stability, when the world felt like it was tumbling down around her. She'd dressed down, hair free from its usual restrictive bun. She looked like any other commoner, as she entered the tavern, hood pulled over her head to keep her warm.

The booth he'd picked... of course he'd choose that one. They'd spent many nights getting drunk here, she snuggled into his side, feet propped up on the seat across from them.

Once she had thought she might marry Magnus. He'd been a way out of the Crows. Instead, she was so deeply entrenched in everything the Crows were, she saw no way out that didn't end in her death.

The smile on her lips was real, perhaps the realest smile in a long time. She paused next to the table, before slipping into the booth next to him. I remembered that you always liked me in marigold, she murmured, an effort to start small-talk.

Despite the darkness of the corner and the cloak she wore to hide her face, she slid into her seat shining like sunshine on a pure summer day.  He was transported back in time...back when they were both younger and so much more naive.  

He had wanted to marry her.  He wanted to build a life with her and live out the rest of their days in chaos and passion and all the excitement and wonder that could be found in each other's arms.  He knew she couldn't be caged...and he would never want that for her.  Instead, he just wanted to be by her side as they faced the future.  He'd bought a ring.  It wasn't much...little more than a promise for a future that would never be realized.  But it was hers.  He was hers.  If only she'd have him.  If only she'd just choose him.  

Without thinking, he slid his hand over to hers and intertwined their fingers.  It was something that they'd done a million times and the motion was as unconscious now as it had been so many years ago.  Had it not been for the faraway look in his eyes and the fluidity of the movement, it may have seemed forward.  

Her words seemed to bring him back to the present.  Marigold had always looked breathtaking on her..and it reminded him of the field where they had first trained...the field where they had first kissed.  The fact that she wore it now filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt since that day so long ago...the day when words had gone unspoken, questions unasked, promises unmade.  But now...now they had a second chance at the life they should have had...a second chance to flourish in the love they shared. 

Magnus let his gaze drift down to their hands and, as the fog of the past cleared from his mind, was surprised to find their fingers laced together.  He didn't move to undo it, didn't react in any way that would draw attention to the contact that he'd tried to banish from his mind on the most desperate of nights alone.  Instead, he seemed to soak up the perfection of this moment before it could be washed away by the day's woes.  That was one thing he'd learned over the years: never to take a single second with her for granted.  

As he looked back up, his expression was hopeful in the most gentle of ways, bolstered by love and unwavering understanding.  [color=#7CD98A]"It still makes your eyes shine brighter than the sun."[/color]  He didn't add the other words that echoed through his head.  He'd always loved her in nothing but his embrace, too.  It was too soon to give voice to those thoughts...too much this quickly.  

She'd been through so much...and she'd faced it alone.  His own heartache had made him leave, determined to make his name...to make himself...worthy of her.  He left so that he could somehow become the kind of man she'd want more than her duty to people who didn't give a shit about her.    

Things were so different now.  He was different.  His name and his fortune meant something.  More than that, though, he was here. His heart had always been here, at this booth and in those memories...but now he was here, with her.   And he was determined not to make her face the horrors all around by herself.  

[color=#7CD98A]"I brought you a gift."[/color]  He tilted his head to a parcel shaped like a book that had been wrapped carefully in fabric and brown leather.  It wasn't anything rare or clever...except that once upon a time she had thrown it at him in playful frustration.  It was a good memory...two friends laughing at the hopelessness of learning something that was just beyond their grasp.  It was one of his favorites.  He hoped she would understand:  they had been more than just lovers...they'd shared an unconditional friendship as well.

Eularia had been caged. First by the Dame Campana, who had sent her as far away as she could manage. Second by the man she'd been sent too. And the final cage, the kingdom that she loved. She would never blame Francesco, because this kingdom was his cage too. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd taken this chance—his 'death' to flee while the cage door was open.

If it'd been her, she would've.

Well, she liked to think she would've. The reality was, her children were just another shackle. She'd do anything for them; had done things for them that no-one should ever do. How many lives were on her hands?

How many people had she killed to ensure her family was safe? And how long was she going to pretend she wasn't unhappy?

She'd never wanted the royal titles that she held. She didn't want that life for her children, either. But they were born and raised for it. They'd fare better than she, a poor urchin off the streets, sticking her hands into the pockets of men with a smile and a laugh.

Back then, it'd been fun. Survival, but a life she had enjoyed. Nomadic, wandering, dancing.

There was only so much she could do, with her position as it were. She was a queen but she was nothing more than a face; a scorned one at that.

Eularia was lost in her thoughts, so lost that she did not feel the way he'd laced their fingers, and when he spoke and brought her back out of her mind, she smiled.

Does it? I imagine there's not much left to shine, she murmured the words, as she squeezed his hand. Comfortable. The kind of comfort she craved. He tilted his head towards a parcel, and she let her gaze wander to it, her smile just a little bit more real now.

You shouldn't have. What do you get the woman that has almost everything? She joked, as she slipped her hand from his to open the gift.

And that smile widened, reached her eyes, which brightened with amusement. Magnus! You kept it? It'd held her handwriting in the margins, notes and scribbles. The little book held tears of frustration across some of the more challenging pages.

A lot of memories in one small gift. Thank you. It was a reminder that she did still have a friend; even if he was the only person in the entire kingdom that didn't hate her. Once, it'd been just the two of them, learning and practicing their magic and hiding their true selves away.

Y'know what I think 'bout sometimes? She sounded guilty as she settled against him, book in her hand, pages idly skimmed. I think what it'd be like if I'd killed him, all those years ago. Would life be better for me? Would I be in this place?

Magnus listened, his heart aching with the desire to comfort her. He wasn't sure which "him" she meant...the bastard that had sought to break her spirit or the other who she'd been tasked to kill.  It didn't matter...both men had ensnared her, trapped her in a life that stifled her vibrance and quintessence. 

But still, she endured.  Beneath all the worry and responsibility, she longed to be free.  To be herself again.  The thought that the weight upon her shoulders would slowly grind down her ardor made it hard for Magnus to breathe.  She was not a creature that should ever be in captivity - even if the cage was made of gilded love.  

His hand was up before he knew it, gently brushing her cheek.  His words were soft, and his piercing blue eyes bore into her soul.  

[color=#7CD98A]"I don't know...but it doesn't matter.  Each day you are given the opportunity to choose your path anew.  Changing your life, making it what you want it to be...that's an adventure that is never out of your grasp."  [/color]

He wanted to kiss her with every fiber of his being.  To slide his hand to the back of her head and pull her toward him, pressing their bodies even closer together as their lips found each other.  He didn't yet...but it was there, dangling in the air palpably.  He wanted every bit of her, wanted her body and mind and soul to rejoin his, wanted them to be complete in the way they had been so long ago.  But what he wanted couldn't be done in this tavern, even if he did own it now.  

And he didn't know if he could stop with just a kiss.  Not now, with so much of the past flooding the present.  His muscles screamed to wrap his body around hers...but he forced them to quiet, to obey.  It was torture in a way that years of pain and blood could not ever hope to compare.  It was the second most difficult thing he had ever done.  

The first, of course, had been walking away - a sin for which he would never forgive himself.  

His hand lingered against her cheek, the feeling of his skin against hers so light it was almost as if he was afraid to be scorched by the passion between them.  He wanted to tell her that the chance at a new life was why he was here...why he'd been there for so long waiting for her to escape the tether of her royal husband.  He wanted to say that the fetters of responsibility were all in her mind, that her children were old enough and trained enough to bear the weight of the title and kingdom, that they would step up to whatever duty was given to them.  

He said none of these things.  She knew them already.  She just wasn't ready to face the truth.  After all these years, she had become afraid of the unknown.  

But he was there to remind her that she was still alive.  That though she had been battered, she would never be broken.  That the life they had dreamt of was still within their reach.  

[color=#7CD98A]"The chance at something different isn't going anywhere."[/color]  I am not going anywhere.

Eularia studied the man, his hand gentle as he caressed her face. Familiar. Stern but kind, playful when their lives weren't at stake. How? There's so much that I need to watch after. So much I need to do. She murmured the words, shaking her head as she pulled away from his touch. Fingers fiddling with old pages, worn and well-loved.

She was quiet, as her gaze wandered over the occupants of the tavern. Many people in raggedy clothes, patched and worn through and patched again. She was certain there were some Crows in the mix; but not every Crow was well-kept and fed. Her lips pursed as she surveyed the people around her.

I didn't think this old place would still stand. She finally stated, her gaze finding him again. Still serves the same bunch of vagrants. She chuckled quietly, shaking her head slowly.

And quiet settled again, brown eyes dancing across the room. She'd danced in the center of this room to music that had not been there. Conning nothing but smiles from people in like situation as she had been. No, she'd only accepted gold from the wealthy, with bright smiles and gentle touches. Eyelashes batted as she convinced them that a dance with her was worth every cent they had.

She'd been like a venus flytrap, ensnaring her prey with well-placed movements and clever words. Never afraid of the unknown; she could handle trouble that came her way—and if she couldn't, well, Magnus had always been near.

Eularia shifted in the booth, and slowly came to rest her head on his shoulder. I'm not sure that I remember how to be so free. Royal titles had come with royal obligations, royal expectations, royal etiquette. A pause, like she was contemplating what she wanted to ask.

And carefully, with the utmost care, she turned to look up at Magnus, dark eyes wandering across hyponotizing blues. With a smile, almost uncertain, she turned to look at him. Remind me? I think I've forgotten how to have fun.

The dam broke.  All of the desire that he had managed to contain suddenly was free and he was swept away with the surge of passion.  

Three things happened then, all at exactly the same time.    

Each patron in the tavern looked toward the bar, as if they all had heard a loud sound that captured their attention. 

The dim light around the two seemed to dwindle down to nothing, leaving them shrouded in darkness and protected from any curious eyes. 

And he kissed her.  Not a gentle kiss or something that could be mistaken for anything other than the pure all-consuming hunger that it was.  It was the kiss of lovers who had been separated far too long.  It was the kind of kiss that consumed every shred of doubt and any awareness of the world.  

In the back of his mind, he could hear a small voice screaming at him, warning him that it was too much too soon.  He recognized the voice...it was fear.  It seemed that after all these years, Eularia wasn't the only one afraid of the unknown, afraid of clutching their lover's hand and taking a blind leap.  But he would not be a slave to the fear.  He couldn't be...not when they had the chance to be together again. Not when they had the chance at love.  

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her so close it was hard to tell where his body ended and hers began.  He could feel her heart beating in her chest, the way she shuddered as electricity shot down her spine leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

He wanted so much more.  He wanted to slide his warm hands under the fabric of her blouse, to feel her smooth skin and the way her body moved in rhythm with his.  He could feel the need swell inside him.  

But he knew that in some ways, the little voice was right.  It was too much, too soon.  So instead, he just lost himself in the kiss...barely managing to maintain the concentration needed to keep them shrouded in darkness and protected from observation. 

When the kiss ended, his eyes found hers in the pale light that only they could see.  Her eyes were mesmerizing, deep pools of umber that threatened to drown him.  

[color=#7CD98A]"I will remind you of everything you have always been and everything you could still become."  [/color]

She was still so alive...she just needed to seize the chance at happiness.  She'd sacrificed her joy for too long...she deserved exhilaration and bliss.

Darkness shrouded the patrons around them, his magic was all around her, and then, so were his arms. His mouth found hers, and she leaned into the kiss. Into him. In this moment, nothing existed except them, in this booth, in this tavern.

She returned the kiss with as much fervor as he. Her fingers curled against the old grimoire in her hands, pressed against his chest as she leaned forward. The kiss ended, and she was still chasing him, breathless, a little dizzy. Less than an inch from his face. She laughed quietly, cheeks flushed, Magnus— His eyes met hers, and she leaned forward to steal a kiss. Much more chaste than the kiss she'd been chasing him for. —I'd... like that. The words were murmured. As she settled next to him, instead of practically in his lap, her gaze swept the tavern. Part of her felt guilty; wanted to tell the man beside of her that she was a married woman. But she had no idea if he was alive; no idea how poorly their plan had failed.

That didn't stop the guilt, though. She was married until she knew he was dead (or was convinced her husband was dead). She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly. Who owns this place, now? I heard it'd been sold when I first came back to Antiva. Shame, I was going to purchase it and staff it. A distraction from her thoughts; from the warring thoughts of guilt. Nobody knew, nobody had seen. He'd ensured that. And she knew her husband had had affairs while she was married off in the Marches.

...but still, guilt whispered in her ear, telling her what a bad wife she was being; a bad mother; a bad queen. She didn't let that show though, as she raised her eyebrows and waited for an answer to her question. Magnus was surely on the up-and-up about all of the things that happened on the streets and businesses of Antiva. He'd always enjoyed information.

Magnus loved the feel of her body against his.  There was something so natural about it, like they were puzzle pieces that fit together so perfectly that the picture would be incomplete without each other.  He'd never felt that way with anyone else.  Sure, he'd loved and made love to other women...but it was never like this.  He'd never felt whole with anyone but her.  

[color=#7CD98A]"I do."[/color]  It was the truth.  When it originally went up for sale, there was talk about tearing it down and building something else in its place.  This place had housed some of the best memories of his entire life - he couldn't let it be destroyed.  And he could afford it.  

So he bought it, restored it to how he remembered, and paid Ferndando to keep serving drinks to the same crowd of misfits.  He knew so much about what went on inside the walls of this place, about the lives of the people who spent their nights drinking and the occasional visitors in cowled hoods that pretended to be someone they weren't.  Information was power, and this place was awash with it.  And...of course, his memories were safe. 

The fact that she too had wanted to buy it made his chest tight with hope.  He'd always been a sentimental fool when it came to her, keeping safe mementos of their time together when he had nothing else.  

As they sat there, he could feel her mind spinning.  She wanted this, she couldn't deny that she wanted it so much she couldn't breathe.  But he could also feel the guilt there.  She'd put other people ahead of herself for so long that she couldn't see the damage it was doing.  He knew she was desperately trying to be a good mother, to be loyal to her late husband, and live up to everyone's expectations.  But teaching your children it was better to be miserable than chase their dreams was a disservice.  Settling doesn't make you a good ruler or good parent, it just erodes who you are.  

As he looked at her, the corners of his lips turned up slightly.  He tucked an errant hair back behind her ear.  [color=#7CD98A]"You know you're allowed to be happy, Lara.  Anyone who wants to deny you that doesn't deserve the sacrifice."[/color]

It was true.  It was why he had lived so long in her shadow.  She deserved happiness.  They both did.  And finally, they had a chance to find it together.

Eularia tilted her head, listening as he declared that this tavern was his. She chuckled softly, Made something of yourself, Mag? She leaned into his touch as he brushed hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind of her ear. It'd not stay there for long; these were the untamable locks. She'd not dealt with them, forcing them into the style she wore at court.

Magnus... She drifted off, her gaze averted. ...I was happy with him. He was like, cool air, that fanned my flames. Like electricity, a live-wire. True in more than one way, really. She leaned away from her old friend, staring ahead of them silently for a moment. I'm... Her voice sounded clear in his mind, though her lips did not move. ...not over him. She couldn't tell him that her husband was out there; that she couldn't have screwed up that badly. She closed her eyes, counting to ten. She'd done a lot of counting to ten in the past months.

I need... I don't know what I need. She sighed, umber hues wandering lazily over the man beside of her. She bit her lip. She had so many responsibilities, things she was hiding, secrets, promises. She couldn't afford romance... We were friends once; just friends. Before they'd cared deeply for one another, they'd been friends with benefits. It had spiraled out of control then, so why she was suggesting it now, well...

She was lonely. Her husband had kept her very well pleasured, very satiated. But this was a loneliness that had been growing since her family had gone on the run; three years and some change. They hadn't had a lot of time together in that timespan. It is not uncommon for royalty to partake in pleasures of the flesh.

The surface of Magnus's mind became still as he took in the information, his thoughts willfully placid.  Somewhere along his journey, he'd taught himself to calm his mind in the face of information that could derail his plans.  Well, not somewhere...he knew exactly what had started that training, who had shown him it was needed.

He could feel the honesty in her words.  She...had loved him.  She still loved him.  

He took a breath.  It wasn't a dramatic or overly telling breath, just one that bought him a fraction of a second of time before he responded.  

Understanding and love were still written across his face.  Nothing had changed. His hand gently cupped her jaw again, his touch gentle against the uncertainty she couldn't hide.  [color=#7CD98A]"We are friends, Lara.  We always have been."[/color]  His thumb brushed the skin of her cheek and trailed down to pause briefly on her lower lip.  [color=#7CD98A]"This doesn't need to be anything more than that."[/color]  

Except it was.  They both knew it.  

Thinking about where that road went was borrowing trouble, and there wasn't room for that right now.  If being able to hold her meant that they had to pretend that they were just friends seeking solace in each other's comfortable embrace, then that is what they would do.  Lies don't become the truth just because you tell them to yourself.    

She may not have known what she needed, but he did.  She needed someone to hold her as she faced the dark night ahead.  She needed someone to see her - not just the queen, or the mother, or the crow, or even the wife in mourning - all of her.  She needed someone to see her and understand that some wounds were so deep that facing another day alone seemed impossible.  She needed someone to see how empty she felt inside.  

He did see it.  He always had been able to see the things she hid from others.  That's why he had fallen in love with her so many years ago. It's why he was willing to give only as much as she could handle now. 

In truth, the thing she needed right now was him.

Eularia studied the face of her friend, leaning into his touch. We were once something more, Mags. She offered a wistful smile, You were my protector and my teacher... She exhaled softly, closing her eyes. The past was in the past.

I wanted to ask, would you come to court with me as an advisor? She raised her eyebrows, studying him thoughtfully. It wasn't a request she'd ask of just anyone; though to anyone in the court it was always clear that Eularia had been more politically inclined than her husband (though she had given up a lot of herself to be that person). She'd wanted her family to be free of the burden of the titles they were given at birth.

Too kind, some might say. Others had different words to use to describe the queen.

My husband was my closest advisor... She murmured, Frankie had a brilliant mind if you knew how to pull answers from it. His chaos had balanced out with her need to over-prove herself to the nobles that had been born with their silver spoons in their mouths. The people who did not think a street urchin Crow deserved to reign as queen of their country.

Vipers in the court.

She shifted, tapping the old tome as she tilted her head back, exhaling again. I'd like you to join me at court. It's... a game of snake eat snake, lies and deceit. I used to be good at it, but... She winced, shrugging. Her husband had made her soft.

...one wrong move could mean the end of my children's lives. She murmured, as if it were just a fact of her life. Because it was. There was no point in fearing the inevitable. And death wasn't just death to a necromancer.

Magnus loved the feel of her skin, soft and warm and bursting with possibilities that made his heart feel like it might explode out of his chest.  When she closed her eyes, he wanted to kiss her again...to show her all the things that they were and they could be.  

But if he did that, if he pushed too hard, she'd close herself off.  She'd write him off as a mistake made in a moment of weakness, not someone she'd long ago convinced herself she didn't need.  

She did need him.  Not just in her bed, but at her side as well.  She'd been carrying the weight alone too long...even before her husband disappeared.  

When he spoke, his voice was steady.  [color=#7CD98A]"We were.  There was a time I would have stopped the world from turning had you asked me to.  But right now, you don't need something so complicated as love...not when your heart already belongs to someone else."[/color]  He slipped his hand back into hers, once again lacing their fingers together.  [color=#7CD98A]"If you need a friend and advisor, I will be just that.  If you need loyalty, I solemnly swear to give it.  If you need comfort..."  [/color]

It hung there for just a moment, the promise going unspoken.  

His eyes drifted down to their hands and he gave her a gentle squeeze.  [color=#7CD98A]"I've never been able to deny you anything, Lara.  I'll join you on any adventure."[/color]  When his eyes returned back to hers, there was something fiercely protective in them.  She'd seen the look before, a long time ago.  It was the sort of quiet threat that meant her enemies should be very, very afraid.  [color=#7CD98A]"And I will keep you and your children safe."[/color]  
 
The sharp edge was gone as quickly as it had appeared, his expression softening back into tenderness.  

Magnus wrestled with the decision to tell her what to do.  He loved holding her, feeling like they both were teetering on the edge of a great precipice filled with hope and possibilities.  But she'd never forgive him if he held back.  He closed his eyes for just a moment, soaking in as much of this feeling as he could before things changed.

[color=#7CD98A]"I might need to go to Ferelden, soon.  An associate says I may be needed there and...they haven't been wrong about that sort of thing.  They said there is darkness slowly creeping out from the forest that cannot be allowed to spread..."
[/color]
There it was.  He'd vowed to keep her children safe and if the danger was left unchecked, Fran might well be in peril.  Andraste willing, it wouldn't come to that.

Eularia listened, opening her eyes to look at him. He was agreeing; accepting her terms, and she smiled softly. Fingers curled into his; and for a fleeting moment she let herself think about a life with him. Impossible; she was a married woman, so in-love with her husband that it hurt to be apart.

He promised to protect her, her children. He couldn't deny her. She reached to find both of his hands, clasping them in her own as he told her that he needed to go to Ferelden.

Yes, please. Look after the prince. Franziska is... they're hard-headed, stubborn. And I've heard their fiance is just as hard-headed and stubborn. She'd heard the rumors about some sort of disappearances that seemed to be magical in nature, spanning the forest and heading towards the capital.

If Denerim was in danger, then so was Franziska.

Thank you, Mags.

Magnus smiled at the mention of Fran's stubbornness.  Eularia had always known what she wanted and never compromised...at least not when she was young and convinced she could remake the world by the sheer force of her will.  That determination had served her well, though it undoubtedly cost her more than she'd ever admit.  She was, after all, the queen - albeit a queen who was dangerously short on allies.  

She had him though.  She'd always had him, whether she knew it or not.  

When she looked up again, he met her eyes.  [color=#7CD98A]"I have a little experience with strong-willed Lovettes."[/color]  His voice was reassuring...a promise that would never be forgotten or abandoned.  [color=#7CD98A]"I'll keep them safe."  [/color]

He knew that their time together was dwindling, but he didn't want to go yet.  There was something so magical about the way they were together, the way their bodies and minds seem to fit with comfortable ease.  He didn't want to break the spell, didn't want to let the reality of the outside world creep back into their small universe yet.  

But he also knew that Lara was never one to dawdle when there was work to be done.  She wouldn't linger in his embrace any longer than was needed to fortify her reserves, to know that she had someone who loved her watching her back.  So he waited for the telltale way her shoulders would straighten as she once again assumed the weight of her situation.  

As he waited, he breathed in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her eyes, and the glow of her skin.  And, in the back of his mind, he planned.  After all, he had a promise to keep.