Dragon Age: The Crown of ThornsChapter 1: Prince"Thieves and assassins that put on the appearance of
honor just to advance their own status. These are the so-called nobles, those
entrusted with the fate of our people and those whose greed and pointless pride
have always been a greater threat to our city than the Darkspawn that have
hounded our steps for centuries. Theirs is the treachery that may destroy us
even sooner than the mindless beasts that lurk in the shadows.
I am Aeducan, Shield of Orzammar, and though I may be cast
out and reviled by my own, I shall protect my people even from their own folly."
*** The grand day had finally come. His armor donned, his shield ready and his blade sharpened, the Prince was ready to go out and receive his responsibilities as Orzammar's new commander. Yet even dressed in his great grandfather's garb and aware of the favor that he had with the Assembly and, verily, his own father, there was still an aching feeling that gnawed at his heart. The feeling that a good dream is just about to turn into a nightmare and that even the smallest mistake might set off a chain of events that would ultimately culminate in his undoing.
"The day of greatest glory is always the best opportunity for the ultimate downfall," his late mother warned him once. Truer words were never spoken.
"Greetings My Lord! You are dressed and ready! Excellent!" a voice was heard from the door. The Prince turned around and saw a familiar face that almost chased away all the concern, even for a brief moment. For there stood Gorim, the only dwarf he knew whose heart was in the right place.
"Ah! Gorim, my friend! I did say that you don't need to call me that. Raonar is fine."
"Well, you know what they say about old habits dying hard. Hopefully I'll die even harder (chuckle). Anyway, moving on to the business at hand. You father will want you to make an appearance at your feast, but the day is young. As part of the celebrations, trading permits were auctioned off to members of the Merchant Guild who wish to sell wares in the Diamond Quarter. Also, the Grand Provings have opened in order to allow young fighters to test their mettle in your honor. Perhaps we should go teach them what single combat is all about, and by we, I mean you (chuckle). I'll practice my cheering this time."
"Ah,I see you're still concerned about those six hours it took my father's smiths to remove your helmet last year. Haha! no need to blush, you'll do as you wish of course. And in the meantime, I assume the Lords and Deshyrs will bore my father with petitions and petty grievances. I can see them now, 'this lord had my cousin killed', 'this lord seduced my wife', 'this lord did the exact same thing I planned to do to him but he did it first'," Raonar sighed deeply and looked as though a great deal of sadness combined with disappointment washed across his face for just a moment.
"Always the same, they all act as though they are the only honorable ones even though they are just a bunch of thieves and assassins dressed up in pretty garments. Bah! At this rate we'll bring our own deaths upon us from the inside even before the Darkspawn have a chance to gnaw on our bones! But enough, it's not like I expected anything more. Let's just see what these merchants are about and then we'll check out the Provings if we have time."
"As you will, My Lord!" Gorim replied, "the day is ours until the feast."
Raonar walked across the corridor, somewhat lost in thought, when the door to his little brother's room suddenly opened and a young, red-haired lass walked out and called out Bhelen's name. Needless to say she was immediately startled when she saw the Prince and ran back into the room.
"Now who could that be?" Raonar asked himself as he followed her.
The girl got all nervous as she saw lord Aeducan approach but maintained her composure.
"I am sorry, My Lord. I thought that was Prince Bhelen coming down the hall and..." her words broke mid sentence. "I... forgive me."
"Who are you?" Raonar asked quite interested. The lass was very beautiful, two graceful strands of red hair fell in front of her radiant face as the rest of her curls were gathered up in a single braid at the back of her head. Her clothes were not of the finest make but they were well taken care of. All signs pointed towards someone of respectable station, except for the brand on her face which immediately struck a cord: Noble Hunter, castless woman who seeks to bare a noble lord's son to increase her caste status.
"It seems..." Gorim begun " that she's one of your brother Bhelen's newest... umm.. companions..." He then replied to the girl." Prince Bhelen is attending the feats being held in Lord Aeducan's Honor."
"Of-of course. It was presumptuous of me to assume he'd return to... I am sorry. I will show myself out, with your leave My Lord."
"Not yet," Raonar suddenly said. "Just how long have you been seeing my brother? How many times have
you met that you are already allowed to wait for him in his quarters? I do remember seeing you around the halls a few times..."
"I... well..." She was obviously nervous and struggled with her words. "My name is Rica. I have only met your brother a few times but... Forgive me if I caused you any inconvenience."
Raonar looked at her at length, it became quite obvious to him that there was more to the girl than she would say. She grew increasingly impatient and started fidgeting under his penetrating eyes. Their clear blue glow seemed to go straight through her. After a while, she could find no more words and could only keep her head bowed, though she still stared at him, at his silver-white hair and long, graceful braided beard that almost made him look like an old sage if not for his very soft facial skin that betrayed his young age. She remembered Bhelen saying he had just turned 22.
"I'm wondering..." he suddenly continued, almost startling Rica. "Do you know my brother at all? What do you think of him?"
Rica was obviously surprised by this question and, predictably, tripped on her own
words as she tried to find an answer.
"I... well, he's been very kind to me and, he knows how to treat.. I mean he..."
She was at once cut off by the Prince who suddenly drew near, placed his right hand on her cheek and slowly drew her face closer to his. She was frozen underneath his bright eyes that stared directly into hers, but her gaze got a tint of anger mixed with a great deal of fear as he caressed her right shoulder with his left hand.
"Of course he would treat you well," he said in a shrewd whisper." A beautiful lass like you, with such fire in your eyes and a demeanor that says you would do anything to please him. That's what all men like to see in a
woman, submission, especially from someone like you." Raonar slowly let his left hand slide lower across her back, all the way down to her waist, while her eyes got all the more filled with hopeless rage and horror, until she
finally closed them in resignation. All this time, Gorim stood back, silent but obviously flushed.
Raonar stood still, his lips almost upon hers as she shut her eyes tight. What was going to happen next was obvious, she thought, when suddenly the Prince drew away and backed off a couple of steps, looking at her until she opened her eyes once more and stood there, unsure of what to expect. What followed was definitely not her first guess.
Raonar bowed deeply before her.
"Please accept my humblest apologies," he said as he straightened up.
"I... But... well..." Rica stuttered. "I was sure you were going to... I mean I know you're his elder and probably would have gotten away with... I mean..."
"You are a very strong woman,' Raonar blurted out.
Rica was stunned when she heard him say that. She looked at him and saw no sign of sarcasm in his eyes, his warm smile held none of the scorn she was used to getting from the crime lord under whose thumb she lived. A minute ago she was cursing the Prince in her mind, hoping that the stone would see him dead for how freely he abused those he saw as his lessers, but now she did not know what to feel.
"You hated me just now," he continued. "When I drew close to you, your eyes clearly showed off the dignity you are willing to sacrifice in order to secure a better life, likely not just for yourself but also your family. You were angry that I was going to take advantage of your position, and of mine, but in the end you closed your eyes not out of cowardice, but to restrain yourself from hitting my head with that rather rough cup you had grasped," he pointed to the ceramic vase on the table next to her. "You really were going to sacrifice yourself. You're more than just another noble hunter, aren't you?"
Rica was completely shaken up. In just a moment he had seen through her completely. He had risked being hated in order to perceive her heart, her life. She now realized that what the Prince had done was just an act, though she still could not fully understand his reasons. Suddenly she felt a bit lightheaded and as she grew dizzy, she felt her falling body being gently caught and held by a pair of soft, strong arms. By the time her senses returned, she sat on the bed, with Raonar next to her, holding her up, though his hold of her was in no way as invasive as before.
"F-forgive me, M-my Lord... I don't know what caused me to..."
"It's alright. It's my fault after all," Raonar replied as he carefully let go
of her and walked away.
"Your family is very lucky to have you, even though I can see from the way you carry yourself that they aren't the only party involved in your being here," he said as he looked sternly at her. "Someone's trying to exploit your situation, aren't they? I imagine that the castless don't easily get a hold of the garments and education that noble hunters clearly have."
Unexpectedly, Rica felt a feeling of gratitude wash over her. This was the first person who ever praised her, besides her little brother. The Prince had known her for but a few minutes and already knew more about her than she would have ever told. But then, she grew fearful when he started questioning her about whose hand was in her being there. She kept trying to evade the questions, but Raonar always managed to pry information from her. Her life in Dust Town, how they were forced to live, how she became a noble hunter out of necessity. Eventually, only the details that her life hanged upon remained unsaid.
"So you have a brother. Where is he now? Why doesn't he do something instead of letting you do this to yourself?" Raonar finally asked her up front.
"I.. well.. I mean... Please, My Lord, don't ask me anything else. And don't think ill of my brother, he's sacrificed more than I have trying to keep me safe and now he's... I mean... no, please My Lord, if you're truly not heartless, don't torture me with these questions anymore." Rica turned away quickly, but not before Raonar noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. He made a short gesture to Gorim, who then left the chamber in a hurry, after which the Prince approached the girl who had started sobbing softly, trying to hold back her tears. Then she suddenly felt a soft touch on her shoulder as Raonar slowly turned her around. The face she met was stern, but had an air of fatherly affection about it, definitely not what she had expected.
"You've only met me, but it's alright. You can tell me everything," the Prince said softly as the lass gave in and surrendered herself to his embrace. "What happened? I'm guessing that the fact that you tripped on your own words meant that you were trying to keep up an act. What was it you really wanted from Bhelen that you were waiting for him so impatiently? That look in your eyes right now speaks of fear, fear for someone other than yourself."
"Oh my lord!" she said between sobs. "I did want to ask something of your brother, even though it's far too early and presumptuous of me to think my problems are of any note to someone like him. "
Raonar said nothing, letting her take her time.
"I'm scared my lord, my brother, he's..." She stopped suddenly, and Raonar realized that this was the point where she may reveal something critical that may end up worse for her in the long run. But he had heard enough and already had an idea of what she was getting to.
"You speak as though you rely on him greatly. He must be a very strong man to warrant your respect, especially if he's your younger sibling. But he lives in Dust Town, so I suppose he got by doing the only thing he could." Rica stopped sobbing and was instead completely surprised to see just how easily he Prince deduced her situation. " So, am I right to assume that he did something to anger his boss and is now in trouble of some kind?" he asked.
Rica seemed to calm down and drew away. "You truly are as cunning the rumors say, your highness. But what you guessed is not completely on the mark. My brother, he's a very strong person. A strong fighter, quick-witted and agile, but he's also always had a knack for knowing what to do and when to do it. That caught the eye of the local crime lord."
"From what I've heard, the Carta is currently run by a man named Beraht," noted Gorim, who had meanwhile returned with a basin of water and a towel. "Shrewd fellow, made deals with surfacers and smuggles lyrium and other goods. He's made a lot of gold, bribed a lot of guards and preyed only on the dusters, which is why he got away with it long enough to buy off half the authorities in the commons,"
"Yes, sounds a lot like a certain other very subtle person I know, someone deemed too irrelevant until it's too late," Raonar responded with a sigh. "But this is not the point." he turned to Rica and wiped away her tears with
the towel that Gorim had brought. "What happened to your brother, child?"
"I... I don't know your highness. That's why I'm so scared! He's missing, he's been missing since yesterday. All I heard was that he got into some trouble on the proving grounds, something about impersonating some fighter. Next thing I knew was that he somehow got captured and now.. I don't know where he is!" Rica was obviously desperate, her hands clutching on the towel Raonar had given her.
"At the Provings? This should be interesting," Raonar thought to himself. "Are castless even allowed on the grounds? Wait, I suppose this Beraht did something to let him in, wanted to rig some fights to win some bets no doubt. So you don't know where he is?" Rica shook her head, then the Prince turned to Gorim. "Well, you did want to see the Provings anyway, didn't you Gorim?" he asked with a sly grin.
"I suppose I did say that, My Lord," Gorim answered with a smile of his own.
"You may stay here for now," Raonar told the lass. "Though I would suggest you not be too quick to reveal this story to too many people. Few will look past your castless brother's role as a criminal."
"So... then... I know it's too much to ask, especially for someone like me but... Is there anything you can do? I'll do anything you want, please, at least try to find my brother! You're the Prince, you can send someone, I don't know, just... I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him because of me! He always said he would do something to make our life better, he hated working for that scum Beraht but he did it for me and mother anyway. I can only imagine the horrible things he had to do."
"I know that you like to see the world shaken up, My Lord but, if it's really as she says..." Gorim begun, "Isn't her brother a criminal? Is it truly wise to get involved in this business on your day of celebration?"
"Can we really pass judgement on others? Just how are the nobles in the assembly any different?" the Prince blurted out. "It's almost disgusting to think that the higher castes have less honor than there is among the beggars and thieves. At least they look after their own. Can the Desyrs say the same?"
The Prince turned around and left the room, followed closely by Gorim, leaving a confused but hopeful Rica behind to wait and see what the ancestors had in store for her next
Modifié par Raonar, 20 juin 2010 - 10:22 .
Retour en haut
must add to my fav list ^^
I'm finally allowed to upload it to FF.net and will add the links to the first few chapters I've completed shortly. 
And fools are adorable. 
I definitely am eager to get started on that next chapter now.
