438 réponses à ce sujet

[SRWill64]

alschemid wrote...

Cailan gave Loghain another task... chase after those mythical game creatures called horses... and so he did:



I think we just believe they are there...

Actually horses do exist in Ferelden...they are just very rare so only the very wealthy have them or use them...there was no need to show them in the game. Horses are much more common in other places around Thedas, however. Not mythical...just rare as hen's teeth...lol

[Addai]

Chapter 18

16 Bloomingtide, 9:28 Dragon Age.

Loghain was on the stair, climbing up from the ship's hold, when he heard Ellie shout down from the deck. "Maker's breath! Loghain, come look."

It had been a miserable journey, but thankfully short. He had wanted to risk the longer, overland journey through the Brecilian Passage, but the mother of his two year-old overrurled him. The longer trip on horseback would be more difficult with a small child. They booked passage on a cutter, bouncy but swift, hoping to make the trip from Denerim to Gwaren in as short a time as possible. For Loghain the trip could not end soon enough. Fitful sleep managed to keep away any dreams of Maric in the sea. The specter was never far away, however. Gareth had been thrilled about the ship, only fretting on the second day when seasickness made him dizzy. By the end of the journey, he was a favorite with the crew and the feeling was mutual. Loghain could only grimace when the sailors joked about the young Mac Tir being a born seaman.

Ellie stood at the rail, holding Gareth on one hip, and when Loghain emerged she pointed towards the shore. Gwaren quay was lined with people.

"What is this? What are they all doing here?"

Loghain smiled wryly. "They aren't making such a fuss over you or me, Ellie, that's for sure. They must have heard we have a more important person on board."

It was late afternoon on a high market day and the town was full of people. With the festival air and relative idleness, marketgoers done with their business had decided to come down to the quay to greet the little teyrn. It was not a surprise to Loghain. Judging by the correspondence from Gwaren, he had already guessed that people were keenly interested in the new heir. Even though Gwaren folk rarely took notice of the doings of nobles, it was still news that the teyrnir would likely remain in Mac Tir hands. They knew that this child belonged to them in a way that Anora never had.

Loghain's guard cleared a pathway and the family disembarked after them, Cutha following along at their heels. The Gwaren residents seemed in high spirits; some of them aided by actual spirits, Loghain guessed. Gareth began to get alarmed at the hands reaching out to touch him, especially as he heard Cutha snapping and growling at those who got too close. When Ellie moved to hand the boy to Loghain, Gareth clung to her, afraid that she was going to put him down in the midst of the sea of bodies. Only when he had passed safely to his father's arms and saw that his parents were still relaxed, greeting people, did Gareth also begin to look around from Loghain's arms with more detached interest. He delighted a group of women by reaching out to grab a sweet offered to him. The two year-old's expression remained dubious, and it was left to his father to thank the women and move on.

With all the crowds clogging Gwaren's small streets, it was a slow walk up from the port. At the estate, the gate guards turned back any hangers-on, and the family then passed along the line of household staff who had turned out in the courtyard to greet them. Harel, Loghain's elderly elven valet, was last in the line, holding his hat and grinning toothlessly as he bowed.

It was the dinner hour and food was already laid out. As the family and Anya were finishing their meal, Harel presented himself to report that all their luggage had been brought up from the quay
Ellie stopped the elf as he was about to leave. "Tell me how you came to work for my husband. I never did hear the story."

Harel shuffled on his feet and looked at Loghain, who nodded for the valet to go ahead. The elf only stuttered "mistress", however, and worked his jaws, saying nothing more.

Loghain smiled. "Harel's not much of a talker. He was a Night Elf once, weren't you, old boy?"

"A Night Elf!" Ellie sat up, surprised.

The servant looked embarrassed, a blush creeping up his splotched neck. His voice was raspy. "Aye, mistress."

Loghain picked up the story. "He was a camp follower, first for the rebel queen and then for Maric after her death. We had few horses, but Harel helped tend the mounts and worked saddles. I was often out on scouting and would come in late at night. Just like in my father's camp, elves were often given the night watch because their eyesight is better at night than humans'. Seeing them when I came in gave me the idea to take some of them with me on scouting missions and raids. We were barely scraping by in those early days. Without the raids, our people would have starved and had no arms. It was desperation, but the elven raiders were so effective that it soon became something more. They were not only keen sighted, they could move silently, and with some training they became deadly killers as well."

"I remember the stories," Ellie nodded. "The Orlesians were terrified of elves coming out of the night." She smiled and turned to Harel. "And that was you? It must have been hard to go back to life as a servant."

Loghain's voice took on a defensive edge. "With the peace came new priorities. The nobility would not have put up with armed elves. Harel could have served with the royal army, but he chose to work in my stables. I did not choose it for him."

"It's better, mistress," Harel rasped, though he would not elaborate. He glanced at Loghain helplessly.

"You can go," the teyrn nodded.

Ellie looked after him and shook her head, whispering, "Somehow I can't imagine Harel as a terror of the night."

Loghain smiled briefly. "People aren't always what they seem to be. Even the warrior must grow old someday."

Anya had been listening intently all the while, but only spoke up then, saying, "Begging your pardon, ladyship, but I think the poppet has had enough of chatter." Gareth was indeed weaving in circles on his high chair, dangerously close to drooping forward into what remained of his mash.

"The poppet is not the only one." Ellie stood up and took a cloth offered by the mage, wiping Gareth's face and hands and then gathering him up. "Anya, go call the housekeeper and ask her where they set up Gareth's bed."

Child in arms, she walked into the parlor and sat down near the fire. Loghain trailed after her, standing by the hearth with one hand on the mantle and regarding his family silently. It had been years since there was a child in this house. Now it seemed odd to him that Anora had ever been so small and helpless as Gareth was. Loghain had a perfect memory of Anora on the day she was born. It was the subsequent years that were a blur, as though the infant had one day instantly turned into the proud, headstrong woman who stood at the head of the country.

His thoughts were interrupted by the housekeeper, who informed them that a guest room had been turned into a child's bedroom for the young lord. Ellie thought a moment, then replied, "You have done well, Mrs. Gardiner, but I don't want Gareth to wake up in unfamiliar surroundings and be frightened. You must have a small trundle bed somewhere, yes? For now, set it up in Loghain's rooms. Gareth can sleep near us until he's used to this house. Please show Anya to her room, as well."

When they were alone, Loghain glanced again at his son. He had fallen asleep on his mother's chest, a chubby hand buried in her hair. "You baby the boy too much, Ellie."

"Psh. He is a baby."

Loghain frowned. "Do you think he's growing up soft? He's been around crowds before in Denerim, but he was so timid earlier." When all he got in reply was an incredulous look, Loghain moved towards them, taking a seat next to his wife. "I'm responsible, Ellie. I know the boy is not yet three, but because of me he'll always have knives trained at his back. He can't be cowering under your skirts all the time."

"Mac Tir. He's two. Did you expect him to come out of the womb brandishing a sword? For all that, I certainly wouldn't worry about a child of your blood growing up with less than an iron will. Or do you think Cousland blood so cheap that we will water it down?"

His mouth curved in a half-smile. "I know better than to say something like that."

"I should hope you do."

"Very well, Lady Cousland. Put down your daggers."

In the process of being put to bed, Gareth woke up and demanded a story. Ellie sat on a cushion, leaning on the side of the low trundle bed, and told the story of the Alamarri chieftain for whom Cutha had gotten his name. The original Cutha fought the Tevinters and always managed to stay one step ahead of their magic and superior weapons by his wits, by knowledge of the land, and because of his clever dogs. Ellie knew better than to forget the hounds. If she did, Gareth would pipe up to ask about them.

Loghain moved quietly around the room while the tale unfolded, unpacking some of their things, but after a few minutes he stood and listened, his eyes on Ellie. Three years it had been since he wed her. In that very room, he sat in his nightclothes feeling like an idiot while she made small talk and they both tried to figure out how to be married to a stranger. She had turned her attention to the shield over the hearth, asking about the wyvern, remarking on it and on the high dragon seen on the day of the Battle of River Dane.  Dragons seem to follow you...

Loghain didn't realize that he'd been staring at the wyvern until he heard Ellie approaching. "A copper for your thoughts."

He gestured distractedly. "It's nothing." She moved past him and Loghain turned back to look into the fire. It was some minutes later when he glanced over and saw Ellie sitting in a chair, head resting back and a tear sliding down her cheek. "What is troubling you, Ellie?"

Her voice was distant. "Somehow I thought it would be different."

"What are you talking about?"

Ellie swallowed before replying and rubbed at her cheek in a defiant gesture. "You. Us." She turned her gaze towards him. "Do you remember our first night here? I'm not sure what I was expecting you to be like, but I was so afraid of you. Afraid it would be a disaster. Then you weren't at all what I expected and after a while it seemed like it was going to be wonderful. But now..."

Loghain shook his head, wanting to curb this discussion before it really got going. "You're tired, Ellie. Go to bed. Or I'll call for a bath, if you prefer."

She shook her head firmly. "No. Not this time. For three years I've let you shut me out and push me away. At first it was because I thought it was just your habit and I should just leave you alone and be there waiting when you decided to show up again. It's worse since Gareth was born, though. Now I think it is because you don't respect me. I'm your bedmate, sometimes your company, but not really your wife."

She was trying to fight the tears, but a few more slipped out. Normally the sight would have made Loghain feel desperate to comfort her, but instead it made him angry. So much for a happy homecoming to Gwaren. "You're talking rot, woman, but go on if it makes you feel better. You must have a few more complaints about me stored up. I suppose I smell bad and steal your covers at night, too."

"I might better talk to Cutha. He listens to me, at least."

Loghain snorted and turned back away, pacing towards the mantle and bracing on it with both hands, looking down into the fire. There was a silence filled by the sounds of Gareth softly snoring, the fire's crackle and Ellie sniffling. As the anger coursed through him, it brought with it flashes of memory, of Celia crying and saying similar things. His anger had been very hot then, keened on loss first of his family and then of Rowan. By the time he had married Celia, there were no more battles on which he could train it. Though he wouldn't admit it, there had been some satisfaction in hurting and being hurt by Celia. It gave him an excuse to nurse the anger, to let pride keep him from softening. He was not a young man anymore, however. Such games no longer seemed worth the price to play.

Drawing a deep breath, he spoke wearily. "All around me are vipers and cretins, or else good men whose careers and lives depend on me. I'm always fighting. Always. The enemies I can't see are the ones who worry me the most. If I come home and want a few moments of peace from it all, is that too much to ask?" Ellie didn't answer, so Loghain turned around and stepped over to face her, still keeping his distance. She avoided his gaze. Softening his tone, Loghain went on, "When I'm hunting, I can forget. I block out anything but the tracking and then the kill. I don't hunt often anymore, but when I come home and you start talking about what Gareth did that day, I can forget, too. I do listen to you. Perhaps not as often as you'd like, but more often than you're giving me credit for."

Throat catching on the words, Ellie replied, "I know. That's not what I mean."

"What then?" Exasperation was pushing Loghain's patience again.

She sniffed and appeared to be thinking before she replied. "All you talk about is what you need, but I need things, too. I suppose because our marriage started with politics, I had this idea that I would be your ally. I didn't know we would love each other, but I always pictured doing important things for you and with you. But Cailan was right when he said I'm nothing. Because you never tell me anything you're doing, I wouldn't even know where to start to be an ally to you."

Loghain's head had come up at the king's name. "Cailan? When did he say that?"

Ellie gestured impatiently. "It doesn't matter."

Approaching her, Loghain slowly reached out a hand and lifted her chin with one finger. "How could you ever say you are nothing? You, of all people." He then let his hand fall. "Are you really so unhappy? Is being a mother so burdensome that you would rather be wallowing in political muck instead?"

"It just doesn't fit me." She stood, pacing, and cast a quick glance towards Gareth's sleeping form. "I love him more than my life, but I don't know where my place is. The wives of your officers can't relax around me. If Gareth is rough with one of their children, they punish them because they're afraid it might come back on their husbands. They're just as guarded with me. The noblewomen in Denerim are catty and spoiled. My only friends are servants, and it's not much of a friend who calls me 'her ladyship'. Anora might have been my friend, but she hates me. And my husband won't talk to me."

Her exaggerated statements served to pull back the curtain. It was the down side of their warm nature that both his wife and his son could sometimes turn to the dramatic. Recognizing this, Loghain softened his defenses. Coming up behind, he put a hand on her arm. "You're taking these things too hard. It isn't just that I want a break from politics at home. I want to spare you from its burdens. But if it's what you really want, I'll involve you more in court affairs. Or you can take more of the responsibilities of the teyrnir. You are popular here and well respected. The guildmasters and mayor like you better than me."

Ellie turned. "I would like that. But what I really want to know is..." She stopped, glanced over at the bed, and gestured to it. "Our first night together, that's the first time I had a notion that we might be able to love each other, but I also knew that I needed to earn your respect. You, a hero and a powerful man, and me so young with so little to account for myself. When you refuse to confide in me, I'm afraid that it's because you think I'm not worth your confidence. You think I am good for nothing but to share your bed and wipe our son's nose. And you don't even trust me with our son very much."

Amazed at how inaccurately she rated his esteem of her, Loghain reached a hand up to cup her cheek. "Elissa, wife, you have nothing to prove to me. I began to see what a capable woman you are from the first days you were under this roof. If you think that has diminished because you gave me a son, I call you a fool. A lovely fool, but a fool nonetheless." He smiled, and gradually she relaxed, though another tear slid down to wet his hand. Loghain leaned forward and kissed her, the hand sliding around to stroke her hair. After a few moments his mouth moved to her ear. "I would like to know what I did to deserve the two finest women in Ferelden being called by my name. The Maker surely is toying with me."

Ellie's voice was muffled in their embrace. "He's telling you not to be so damn proud." She slid back, regarding him. "You can start by telling me what you were thinking just now when you waved me off."

"I will tell you, but not tonight. I still feel like I am on that blasted ship and my head won't stop spinning."
Her eyes were still red-rimmed, but a mischievous smile replaced the frown. "And here I thought we might re-live the wedding night. Or have I ruined it?"

"After what you accused me of, I would not have suggested it myself, but if you are up to it then I wouldn't let a little dizziness stop me. My head was spinning on that first night, too, though for different reasons." Loghain returned her smile, and kissed her lightly, his arm still looped around her waist. Gesturing with his head behind them, he asked, "What about Gareth? I would rather not traumatize the boy if he wakes up to a demonstration of how he was made."

Ellie loosed herself, stepped over to the bed and released one of the canopy curtains. "That's what these are for."

Loghain grinned as he began to untie his tunic. "Ah, I do love a woman with a plan."

After breakfast the next morning, Loghain put a hand on Ellie's arm to stop her from getting up. "Anya, please take Gareth and get him dressed for our outing today. I have an important matter to discuss with the teyrna and I ask that we not be disturbed."

Ellie looked at Loghain expectantly. He waited until they were alone, then began, his eyes trained downward at his plate. "Last night you asked me what I was thinking about, and it was this. I didn't go to Redcliffe to see Eamon. I went to see Maric's son." He paused, glancing at Ellie and reading her confusion. "His other son. Maric had a bastard he never recognized. It isn't important. The boy is no more suited than Cailan to be king. However, that was not the only thing I learned while I was there..."

"Wait. Wait. Go back to that part about Maric, a bastard, and someone other than Cailan being king."

Briefly Loghain explained about Alistair and about his promise to Maric. "I never expected that an untrained bastard who was not even recognized could be suitable, but with Cailan getting worse every day I at least had to satisfy myself. Now that I've done so, I can keep my promise to Maric in peace."

"Maric had another son..." The idea was obviously taking a while to settle in. "So that is why he never took another queen. He had a secret lover, someone he would not or could not expose to court."

Loghain glanced at Ellie, uneasy at such a raw admission of the truth about his friend. He could not deny it, though he was eager to downplay it. "Nothing serious, surely. A moment of weakness after Rowan's death, enough to produce a child."

It took some time, but finally Ellie absorbed this. "Why were you thinking of this when you looked at your shield?"

"I wasn't. There is something else."

Loghain showed Ellie the flier he found in the Bannorn, and explained what the templar had shown in him in a recess of Tewellyn's library. Leffert had tried to back down on the way, and the sister attending the library also was unhappy about their visit, but Loghain could match even a Chantry sister glare for glare. Finally the templar had led him to a locked room. In the light of one dim lamp, Leffert laid out books, pamphlets and artwork that had been collected from various parts of Ferelden. The earliest of them predated the end of the revolution. Some were gibberish, apparently written in code and illustrated with fantastic, macabre drawings.

Leffert explained some of the symbolism, and then Loghain understood why he had recognized the tract from the Bannorn as belonging to this collection. At the upper corner of the tract was a small dragon, something Loghain had assumed was a place marker for the date. Printers would often use such a symbol to represent the Dragon Age. The same dragon symbol was on all these books and pamphlets, however. In one of the books Leffert showed him, a woodcut depicted a mabari hound being pinned under the claw of a dragon.

"The dragon is Orlais, your grace," Leffert told him. "You can guess what the hound is meant to show. These people believe that the dragon of River Dane actually was a portent of the ultimate triumph of Orlais over lesser nations and that your battle was just a test of faith. They believe Orlais to be a holy nation, not only because the Chantry is seated there, but because Orlesian society mirrors the hierarchy of Blessed Aroeus." Loghain had needed a refresher on that name, and Leffert explained that he was an early scholar who worshipped the Maker even before Andraste's coming. His writings detailed a strict hierarchy of all beings, with the Maker at the pinnacle, the clergy next to him in glory and responsibility, and those of the oldest noble stock just under them. Somewhere in the lower echelons were commoners and the unenlightened races. Where spirits and demons fit into the picture, he was less clear.

"That is why they despise Anora so much," Loghain explained to Ellie, gesturing at the tract that lay on the breakfast table in Gwaren. His voice was bitter. "She's a commoner in their eyes, and the daughter of the Fereldan dog that cast Orlais from this country, and yet she makes no apology about ruling."

Ellie's brow knit. "Who are 'they'? Who are these people?"

"Leffert didn't know. He claims that no one knows, that they are secretive and likely spread throughout the country. Some of the books he showed me were scholarly works, so it's likely some of them are nobles and clergy, but there are others obviously written by commoners. They are all marked with this symbol, however." He indicated the small dragon at the top corner of the page.

"That's why you were thinking about this when you saw the wyvern." Ellie's eyes were fixed on him, and remained so as Loghain rose, pacing slowly in the sun of the morning room.

After some moments silence, he went on. "One of their books claims that Orlais will regain Ferelden after a Blight lays us waste. It's how they gained control of Nevarra's southwestern flank, which is likely where they got the idea."

"A Blight? Here?"

Loghain nodded. His breakfast was sitting heavily in his stomach, though he knew it was not the grease from the fried bread that was making him feel ill. To reveal the witch's prophecy was a real test of his agreement to open his mind more to his wife. He had never spoken of it to anyone but Maric, and even then he had fought to avoid the topic. For all Loghain knew, the witch had fed the same crazy nonsense to others that she had to Maric.

Quietly he continued, "It's not the first time I've heard someone predict a Blight here. It's alarmist raving, of course. I just happened to think of it because when you saw my shield, you said that dragons follow me. The history books claim that Blights are led by a dragon."

"But I didn't mean anything by that. I was just nervous on our wedding night and was babbling to relieve it."

"I know." Loghain turned back to her. "Pay no mind to that drivel. What is important is that there are agents of Orlais among us, Fereldans, who are caught up in this apocalyptic lunacy. It's no surprise really. It took a long time to root out elements of the Orlesian loyalists after the war, and Maric took a gentler stand on them than I liked. All they really did was go underground. Occasionally they still surface. They plotted through the Circle of Magi once. They're probably using other front agencies like the Antivan Crows or the Grey Wardens. There were assassination attempts on Maric a few times, on me as well." He paused. "Also on your father. Did he ever tell you?"

Ellie's head shot up. "My father? Maker's breath, no!"

"Ah. It was when you were a small girl and likely he did not want to worry you. A servant. He apparently was careless and the other staff discovered the plot before it could be carried out." Loghain paused, reflecting bitterly on the fact that Bryce was now repaying the Orlesians for such sweet gestures by fattening their coffers and offering them inroads into Ferelden. If Ellie wanted more candor, Loghain would give it to her, but best to leave that topic for another day. "They haven't tried anything that dramatic in many years. It is not a good sign if they are working in public again. They are lunatics, but they obviously sense unrest and are trying to stir up religious fervor amongst the commoners and envy in the nobles." Loghain glanced over at the sound of Gareth running through the foyer, Anya following and calling for him to slow down. In truth, Anora was not the only one he worried for, but he would not say so to Ellie. There were still things he would never talk to her about, no matter how many tears she shed about his reticence.

Ellie's words brought him back. "Doesn't anyone know who these people are? They can't all hide if they are publishing books and pamphlets."

"The templar could only tell me that there appears to be a concentration around Redcliffe, which is why Tewellyn's library ended up with a lot of the books from this 'dragon society.' I went to ask Eamon about it after I left the monastery, but he denies knowing any more about it than I do." Loghain snorted. "He and that haughty wife of his. Eamon can pretend to be innocent, and she looks too dim to be a bard, though it is their trade to appear other than they are. I don't trust either of them. I only wish Cailan didn't bend so much to Eamon's whispering."

"Didn't you say that Empress Celene writes to you sometimes? What would she say about this?"

Loghain waved a hand. "Deny any knowledge, of course. Lie. What do you expect? She's not only aware of it, I'm sure that she supports them secretly. Though Leffert claims that she's not exactly popular with this organization, either. She's too soft minded for their tastes." He uttered a harsh laugh. "One of the pamphlets even complained that she's not dotty enough. Apparently they think the crazy inbred bastards who ruled before her showed 'marks of the divine.' That's what they call insanity."

Ellie was silent some moments, a finger brushing thoughtfully across her lip. Finally she spoke up in a quiet voice. "Are we in any danger? You?"

He took a breath. She had come upon that idea without any help from him. "Little. These are lunatics, but I must take them seriously." Loghain stepped over to the table, leaning on it and staring intently into his wife's face. "I would never let anyone hurt you or Gareth. I promise you."

Smiling, Ellie reached out to cover one of his hands with hers. "I know. I'm glad you told me. I will know to be more careful with my trust."

Loghain nodded, but he didn't expect that her promise would amount to much. It was not in Ellie's nature to be jaded towards people. Even when she complained about catty nobles, she still wanted their approval, still sought out their company. She was wrong about how people viewed her. It was Elissa's strength and her weakness that she called so many people friend and invited a trust that she then reciprocated. He would have to be twice as vigilant on her behalf.

They took Gareth out for a walk through the town. High market day had passed, but there were still a few stalls out. While Loghain was waiting for Ellie to conclude negotiations on a new set of dwarven armor, he was surprised to realize that Anya was standing at his elbow. Normally the mage kept her distance from him. "Yes?" he asked, voice clipped. "What is it?"

"Begging your pardon, lordship, but I couldn't help but hear what you said about the elves last night. How you saw what they were good for in the war. Like tools you can put away again when you're done with them."
Loghain kept his voice light. "You think I use people, do you, mage? I command armies. It is my duty to see where a man can be useful and to put him there, even if that means his death. I don't enjoy that. If I fail in that duty, however, we all suffer."

"All well and good, your lordship," Anya replied mildly. "But you didn't do that with me."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to suggest? If you have a complaint about your service..."

"I have no complaints, ser. But when the Teyrn Cousland first asked me to stay with her ladyship, you got your britches in a bunch. When the templars were going to haul me off, you weren't going to do nowt about it until I begged you to."

"I gather you have a point, Anya. I suggest you make it. I dislike word games."

Anya's color was high. She apparently realized that she was on thin ice, but she nodded once. "It's just this, your lordship. I heard what you did for those elves, but you don't see what mages can do. You ought to, that's all. You don't need to see us as people, but you said yourself it's your duty to see where we're useful."

Loghain turned to face her. "Speak plainly.  What is it you want? Maybe you are hoping I might be able to do something to help your fellows in the Circle? It doesn't work that way, Anya, and you know that as well as I do. I couldn't keep the Night Elves going and there's little I can do for the Circle, even if I wanted to."

"Not now," Anya nodded, agreeing. "Might be someday you will, though." There was a tense pause and she added, "Just puttin' in a word, that's all."

Loghain followed her with his gaze as the mage returned to Ellie's side. It was unlike her to string so many sentences together, let alone coherent ones. Yet her words did remind him that it had been long since he had paid any attention to Kinloch Hold, not since they had rid it of Orlesian elements after Remille's plot failed. Much as he disliked mages, with no Circle ambassador at court any longer, they couldn't afford to ignore the Magi completely. The thought made him weary. There was not a patch of earth anywhere in Ferelden which wasn't stained by politics.

After Ellie picked out a shiny new set of silverite armor to be delivered to the estate, the family continued their walk on the forest path out of Gwaren. As Loghain had hoped they might, they came upon a group of Dalish elves on the path. They had a pack halla with them and were obviously coming into town to trade, having avoided the larger crowds of the high market. Clad in dark leathers marked with the strange symbols of the elven gods, with the pungent smell of camp smoke and the sickly sweet herb they burned in it clinging to them, and with their peculiar face markings and shimmering eyes, it was small wonder that the townsfolk were uneasy with them. The sovereign could overcome a lot of things, however, and elven daggers and bows brought high prices at market. The traders who could overcome their prejudices were rewarded for it.

Loghain was not after either of these things, however. One of the things Leffert had mentioned was that the dragon society distributed its works through Dalish traders. It was ironic, considering that they seemed to consider elves little better than animals. However, the Dalish could move things outside official channels and across borders more easily than any other group, even the dwarves, whose trade was closely watched because so much of it was in lyrium and lyrium-enchanted wares. Most of the elves probably could not even read what they were selling. In the back of his mind Loghain thought again of the witch, who had also used the Dalish as her messengers.

The dark-haired young woman who spoke for this group was polite and deferential with him, and when he asked to see any books they might be selling, eagerly produced several out of one of the packs. Her attitude changed when Loghain gestured at her with one of them. "This book calls for the overthrow of the government in Denerim. It is treasonous. Tell me where you got this."

The woman's face turned stony, and there were a few moments of nervous chatter among the Dalish in their peculiar tongue. Finally she turned back, replying, "We don't want trouble for those who trade with us. There are few who do and we depend on them. The human lord will understand."

"The human lord does not understand." Loghain moved closer, eyeing the Dalish woman severely. "I am teyrn of this land. If you do not give me the information I want, there will be much trouble for you and your people, I promise you."

After more chatter with her companions, the dark-haired woman turned back to Loghain, her expression sullen. "The book came from Mather bookseller in Amaranthine. He trades us cheaply what will not sell in his shop."

"I will give you a silver for the book, but see to it that you are more careful in future what sort of things you buy and sell." Loghain tossed the silver at the woman, then his attention was caught by the sound of laughter from some of the elves. Those who stood apart and hadn't heard his conversation with their leader were instead entertaining his son, or rather, their halla was doing so. The beast had licked the front of the boy's hair into an upright slab. For his part, Gareth was equally enthused and was giggling while Ellie stood nervously by. The boy was timid around a group of solid Gwaren folk who had turned out just to see him, but apparently was perfectly at ease with wild elves of the sort who murdered people who came too close to their camps. The Maker toyed with him, Loghain thought resignedly, by ensuring that he would never understand either his wife or child.

"Gareth! That's enough. Come along now." The two year-old was reluctant to leave his newfound friends, but knew when his father's tone meant business. As they fell in together, leaving the Dalish behind them on the path, Loghain remarked to Ellie, "We'll make a stop in Amaranthine on the voyage home. I'll be interested to see what Rendon Howe has to say about Orlesian sympathizers romping through his precious arling."

End chapter 18.

Modifié par Addai67, 27 décembre 2010 - 06:46 .

[Addai]

SRWill64 wrote...

This is really an awesome story...well thought out...which is exceptional for fan fics.

Thank you!  Glad you like it. 

[SRWill64]

Sandtigress wrote...

Addai67 wrote...

Sandtigress wrote...

Sooo....are you of the thought that Maric went to join Fiona maybe, and left Cailan in charge because he knew the Blight was coming, per Flemeth's words?

I deliberately left it open because I think it is a possibility.  It would mean his whole crew would have to vanish, though, so I think it more likely that he died.  Gaider did say "sometimes people just die."

He also said one day we'd find out what happened to Fiona and Maric!  Which, of course, could be "they died".  Gaider would do something mean and evil like that....

My thought has always been that maybe, seeing Cailan was capable and of age to rule, Maric staged his death so that he could escape and join Fiona, his true love, in the Anderfels at Weissaupt. It would be the only time he would ever have been able to follow his heart and his only chance for some happiness in his last days...
But then again, I am a hopeless romantic, lol

Modifié par SRWill64, 27 décembre 2010 - 07:09 .

[Sarah1281]

SRWill64 wrote...

Sandtigress wrote...

Addai67 wrote...

Sandtigress wrote...

Sooo....are you of the thought that Maric went to join Fiona maybe, and left Cailan in charge because he knew the Blight was coming, per Flemeth's words?

I deliberately left it open because I think it is a possibility.  It would mean his whole crew would have to vanish, though, so I think it more likely that he died.  Gaider did say "sometimes people just die."

He also said one day we'd find out what happened to Fiona and Maric!  Which, of course, could be "they died".  Gaider would do something mean and evil like that....

My thought has always been that maybe, seeing Cailan was capable and of age to rule, Maric staged his death so that he could escape and join Fiona, his true love, in the Anderfels at Weissaupt. It would be the only time he would ever have been able to follow his heart and his only chance for some happiness in his last days...
But then again, I am a hopeless romantic, lol

My problem with that is (well, aside from that he barely knew her so I doubt she's his true love) that he would have somehow had to have been under the impression that Cailan was capable.

[alschemid]

Oh! Nice chapter Addai! This means you are feeling better now? I sure hope so.

SRWill64 wrote...
My thought has always been that maybe, seeing Cailan was capable and of age to rule, Maric staged his death so that he could escape and join Fiona, his true love, in the Anderfels at Weissaupt.

True love? Maker's Breath....If that is true Maric is much more fool than I have thought he could ever be.

[Addai]

Chapter 19

14 Solace, 9:28 Dragon Age. Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine arling.

The ancient keep of the Howes was even more dreary on the inside than it looked on the outside. It was Elissa's first time there since she was a young girl and she was shocked at its condition. Carpets and tapestries were visibly mouldering. Wooden stairways creaked dangerously, the boards warped by water damage. Lady Methilde had never been a pleasant woman, but Ellie did not remember it being anything like this while she lived. She seemed to run a tight ship, in fact, and was probably now screeching in her grave.

The arl wasn't pleased at receiving surprise visitors. Loghain had decided not to tell Rendon he was coming. The idea was that it would put him off balance, and Loghain liked to have the upper hand. Since they were going to ask for the arl's help, Ellie thought it better to be straight with him and more courteous. A side effect of wanting to be more involved in her husband's affairs was that they argued more often. Just like in the practice room, neither of them liked to lose. This time, Loghain won.

The tension carried over to dinner that evening. Other than the Mac Tir entourage and Arl Howe, present at table were a sulky Thomas and a miserable looking Delilah Howe. Like their home, Delilah seemed shrunken compared to the girl Ellie remembered. They had gotten along well on visits back and forth or when they chanced to be in Denerim at the same time. Ellie always found her more pleasant than either the taciturn eldest Nathaniel or Thomas, who was fun-loving but had a cruel streak. Delilah still tried to keep up pleasant conversation, but otherwise she spent much of the meal staring at her plate. Her face went stark white when the topic of conversation turned to Fergus.

"Tell us about your brother, Elissa." Rendon gestured at her with his wine glass. "He's now heir of Highever, is he not? And turning out to be a fine, handsome young man by all accounts."

Ellie could guess from the angry glance Delilah cast at her father what was going on. She had heard enough such subtle talk from her own mother to recognize a marriage overture. "I haven't seen Fergus since last summer, but he is all those things, Arl Howe. Nevertheless he is still very young. Hale as my father is, it will be a long while before Fergus will need to think of inheriting."

"Of course, of course. Bryce will outlive all of us, I'm sure," Rendon replied with a smile. "He's fortunate that way, and most other ways, too. Nevertheless to be the scion of such a family is an accomplishment in itself, and thus far Fergus seems to be just what he ought to be. A pity I can't say the same for others of his generation. My own Nathaniel, for example. Or our careless young king."

Ellie glanced quickly at Loghain to see if he would give any reaction, but the teyrn's face was a grave mask. No matter what he thought of Cailan, he was careful not to give any indication of it in public. The king was still the king. Turning back, Ellie carried on quickly, trying to turn the conversation towards neutral territory. "Nathaniel is in the Free Marches, is he not? Do give him my regards. We were not friends, exactly, but I don't know of any stain on his reputation."

"He's in Kirkwall. As to his reputation, your guess is as good as mine how it goes these days. I'm afraid you'll also have to pass on your own regards. We have little contact with him." There was an edge of hardness to Howe's voice. "My children are not as dutiful to me as you are to your parents, Elissa."

"I'm sure that's not true," Ellie replied with a nervous laugh, turning her eyes towards Delilah. The young woman's pale, pinched look silenced her, however. Thomas gave a disgusted snort but said nothing, only moved food around on his plate.  So much for neutral territory.

The evening had not gotten as bad as it was going to get, however. Howe turned to Loghain. "Now as for this book you showed me in the study before dinner, your grace. I intend to show you how seriously I take this matter, so that you will have no doubts about where our family loyalties lie."

Loghain looked up sharply at the turn in conversation, and glanced around the table. "I had thought to discuss this further in private, Rendon."

The arl shook his head. "Not necessary. My children should hear this. Despite my sacrifices and loyal service to the crown all these years, it appears no one ever forgets the stain of treachery brought on us by their grandfather."

"If you say you knew nothing about the bookseller, I accept your word. No one blames you for your father's actions."

"Do they not? I am not so sure. Our family is rarely given the place that it deserves." Ellie felt Rendon's eyes rest on her. The arl had lobbied hard on Nathaniel's behalf for her hand, but not even an appeal to old friendship could move Bryce to accept that marriage offer. His refusal had nothing to do with old Tarleton Howe's support of Orlais during the occupation. The simple fact was that politically it would be a marriage beneath an heir of Highever, and since Nathaniel would not speak two words together to Ellie, there was no sentimental reason to go against practicality.

Before she could speak, Howe turned back to Loghain. "I will demonstrate to you how seriously I take such treachery. Leave this bookseller to me, Teyrn Loghain. I will interrogate him personally. Perhaps his information will lead us to the rats' nest, even back to their connections with Orlais."

"We can stay another day or two. I would like to hear the man's report myself."

"Not necessary, your grace," Rendon answered quickly. "You said yourself that you are eager to return to Denerim. Don't trouble yourself with this. Allow me to show you how useful I can be to you. If you aren't satisfied, you are free to return and re-examine the man yourself." Loghain hesitated, his expression doubtful. Finally he nodded, acquiescing.

Laughing nervously, Ellie cut in. "Enough of politics, my lords. It ruins the appetite. Of course I think we must retire soon anyway, at least Gareth must."

Rendon turned his eyes toward the little boy, who had already finished dinner and begun to squirm sideways in his chair. "A fine son you have given the teyrn, Elissa. Heir of both Gwaren and Highever, too. So auspicious for a young man."

Ellie was about to correct him to say that Gareth could only inherit Gwaren, but busy as she was untangling the two year-old's limbs from the chair arms, she didn't bother. She and Loghain preferred anyway to remain private about such things as the terms of their marriage contract. When Gareth was upright again, she turned back to the table. "Thank you, Arl Howe. We're very proud."

"I'm sure. No doubt Bryce and Eleanor are positively aglow with their good fortune."

The dinner broke up soon afterward. Gareth was to share a guest room with Anya, but Ellie went to see him into bed. Anya did the honors of the bedtime story. She frequently told stories from around Lothering, and they so often ran to the bizarre and disturbing that Ellie got the idea that the good folk of that town must either have very vivid imaginations or no end of troubles. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Since Gwareners also liked a good ghost story, she thought it might be attributed to being so close to the Korcari Wilds and the Brecilian Forest, where there were just enough actual terrors to inspire the fictional kind.

Gareth loved Anya's stories, at any rate, and he was rapt as she told about the ghostly werewolf of an abandoned village outside Lothering, whose lonely cries could chill the blood. Ellie sat at the head of Gareth's bed, stroking his hair while they listened. It was getting longer on his neck, thick and the color of strong Rivaini coffee, wavy like hers. People said that he favored her, but in certain facial expressions he was very much his father.

"Something calming," Ellie mouthed to Anya, as it was apparent that the werewolf was keeping the boy awake rather than putting him to sleep. The mage promptly switched tack, turning to the subject of sheep and their antics, and how lambing time went. This was counter-productive at first, too, since Gareth loved animals and kept interrupting to make sheep noises. Anya knew a great deal about the woolly creatures, however, and eventually her encyclopedic knowledge on the subject and his mother's gentle touch brought the boy heavy eyelids and finally sound sleep.

Ellie met Delilah in the hallway on the way back to her own room. "Teyrn Loghain is still with my father downstairs, Elissa. I sent a maid in to start a fire in your room. Warm as it is, the keep always gets a chill at night."

"Thank you, Delilah. I hope our surprise visit hasn't caused too much trouble."

"Not at all." The dark-haired woman paused, then leaned in. "You seem to be faring well, Elissa. I was sorry to hear that your father had made you marry the teyrn. It must have been difficult for you."

Startled, Ellie fumbled for a reply. "I... well, I suppose it was at first. It was not easy to leave Highever."

Before she could finish, Delilah went on, keeping her voice low. "And to marry someone so much older, with one wife on the pyre already. It's not fair that they expect so much of us. We ought to be left alone to find someone we love."

Ellie was at a loss. She did not disagree, but from experience she also knew she could not easily explain how things were between her and Loghain. It was also apparent that the conversation wasn't really about her marriage at all. "I gathered from dinner that your father is pushing for a marriage between you and Fergus."

"'It's no offense to your brother, Elissa, but I don't want to marry Fergus or be teyrna of Highever. I'm not like you."

"I suppose not." It was unclear to Ellie whether she should take this as a compliment or insult. "If it is any consolation, my brother is a good man. He would be a gentle husband. Or he will someday, when he settles down a bit."

"They say he does nothing but sword-fight."

That was true by all accounts. Fergus had made it to the semi-finals in the Highever tournament that summer, pitted against men much stronger and more experienced than he. His training with Bryce's men and his occasional lessons from Loghain on visits to Denerim were paying off. "He may do, but it is expected that a lord lead his men into battle if the need arise." Ellie hesitated before going on. "Delilah, it sounds to me like you would rather not marry a noble at all. If that's the case, why not look around for a wealthy merchant or smallholder? You could have a good life that way, with none of the hassles of title." And you would get out of this crumbling keep, Ellie thought to herself. That had to be worth something.

Delilah gave a small, bitter laugh. "You think my father would allow that? No. If you hadn't married Teyrn Loghain, Father might have gone on to him next."

Her tone implied that this would be a dire fate. Ellie tried to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. "Loghain is a good man. He has heavy responsibility on his shoulders, but we are happy."

"I can see you are making the best of it. Good for you, Elissa." Delilah sounded skeptical. "You were bound to make something of yourself. But I should let you retire. Do call if you need anything."

Ellie was in bed, still awake and still annoyed, when Loghain came in. He made a stop in the washroom before changing into a pair of light sleeping pants. After he had settled into the bed with a sigh, Ellie turned her head. "Do people ask you awkward questions about me?"

Her husband's voice was muffled by the arm he had thrown over his head. "Awkward?"

"Like how it is to be married to me, or how I am in bed."

The arm rose a little and Loghain opened one eye. "What?"

"Like if I'm a polecat in bed. That sort of thing."

"Maker's breath." He let his arm fall back on his forehead.

She pressed on. "Do they? They ask about you, after all."

"I'm asleep, yes? What a strange dream."

Ellie prodded his chest. "It's true. Noble and commoner alike, women want to know what sort of lover you are. If you're as sour as you look. If you hit me. If you yell a lot. They act like I'm some sort of martyr for marrying you." Loghain moved the arm, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Belatedly Ellie realized how these questions would sound to him. It was an insult that people suspected such ill of him. She lifted her own hand to cover his, but he neither moved nor replied. In the silence, Ellie traced a fingertip along a scar along the back of his hand. She could see the dark hairs stand on end where she touched his skin. Ellie's fingertip moved over Loghain's signet ring, then on to touch the hair at his forehead. He kept it loose more often these days, saying that it was because she was always undoing his braids anyway. Leaning up, Ellie kissed the small space of temple between his hand and hairline. "Have I upset you?"

The arm lifted again, and this time Loghain spoke forcefully. "I'm tired, Ellie. And I care sod-all if entire Ferelden thinks I tie you up and ride you backwards with my armor still on."

Ellie was shocked speechless. She stared a moment, then silently lay back on her pillow and pulled the covers up over her chest. After a pause she spoke up again, quietly. "That was quite an image." Loghain gave no reply, but she could tell he was still awake. She turned her head towards him. "Perhaps not the bit about the armor, but the tying up and riding backwards part..."

"Andraste's blood, woman." Loghain was feigning annoyance, but she knew by his tone that she had him, that he was trying not to laugh. Her hand slid beneath the covers and up his thigh. He was not hard yet, but it took only a moment. When he spoke, his voice was a growl. "If they ask, I'll tell them polecats have more decorum." He reached over to pin her shoulders, stopping her laughter first with his mouth and then his tongue, a hand maneuvering to stroke her with one roughened finger until the laughter turned to a long, quiet moan. Finally he turned her, pressing into her from behind. He took her quickly, the wet sounds of skin against skin and both their gasps keeping the time.

There was no rope or armor involved, but Ellie never thought to be disappointed.

22 Kingsway, 9:28 Dragon Age. Denerim.

"There you are, Anya. I thought you were never going to get back. Did you forget I'm supposed to go to the palace this afternoon?" Ellie had met her attendant at the door, taking a market basket and bag of flour out of her hands.

The mage shot her a pointed look as they took the groceries into the larder. It was the cook's day off and the shopping had fallen to her. "I remember, m'lady. I had to go to three stalls to find a decent pear. Doesn't anyone in this arling know how to grow a tree?"

"You went too late. The good stuff is always gone by midmorning. Anyway, hurry up. Gareth is napping but he won't stay down for long."

On the way to her chambers, Ellie paused to pick up the toys that had been strewn in the hallway. Quietly she slipped into Gareth's room and deposited them into one of his toy boxes. She was about to turn when she heard the sleepy little voice. "Mamma. Play horse."

"We can't play horse right now, sweet pea. Mamma has to go to a meeting." The boy had a wooden riding horse, but that was a distant second to one of his parents ferrying him around on hands and knees. It was not a game that Anya could play because of her joints, and Loghain was best at it since he could make the appropriate horsey noises. Ellie sat on Gareth's bed, reaching out a hand to brush hair back from his forehead.

"Meeting?"

"Yes, a meeting. You'll stay with Na-Na and Cutha, and then da and I will both come home for dinner. Are you going to get up now? Do you have to tinkle?"

Gareth shook his head, but clambered out from the covers and onto Ellie's lap. She lifted him as she stood, exclaiming, "Maker's mercy, Lord Mac Tir. You were already big when you came out of me, but I think you must have rocks in your pockets now."

He giggled, chiding her. "I don't have rocks in my pockets, mamma."

"No? You could have fooled me." She walked with him out into the hallway, bumping into Anya as she was going into her own rooms. Gareth held his arms out to the mage and went to her willingly while Ellie stepped to her dressing table and brushed at her hair. She spoke over her shoulder. "He didn't eat any lunch before he went down, so he'll probably want soup when he properly wakes up." Glancing behind her, Ellie caught her attendant's look. "Yes?"

"Nothing, my lady." Anya allowed Gareth to squirm out of her arms to the carpet. The toy trail hadn't been cleared in this room yet and there were things he had to do.

Ellie looked back to the dressing table, but kept talking. "Out with it, Anya. You might as well tell me now or you'll just grumble it at me later."

"You're at the palace a great deal these days, m'lady. None of my affair, o'course. Just can't help but notice."

"I have my weapons practice as always, but I'm also on the privy council now, speaking for Gwaren and Highever."

"Oh. The privy council." Anya's expression never changed, but the sarcasm in her voice was ripe.

Ellie whirled around. "You disapprove, I take it."

The mage had taken a seat near Gareth and was watching him as he moved the wooden tiles of a puzzle. "You got yourself a good boy here, m'lady. A good man and a good boy. That isn't enough? On top o' that, you need a privy, too?"

"Gareth is fine. I wanted to do something else besides mind house and attend afternoon teas."

"As you say, m'lady."

Ellie stared, irritated, but Anya said no more. Finally she prodded at her again. "I'm trying to help Loghain, and to feel useful. I don't need your permission."

Anya sighed, rising to her feet. "Let's get you some dinner, young master," she said to Gareth, reaching for his hand. On the way out she paused, looking back. "If you couldn't see your boy as much as you'd like, you'd know what I'm on about. You're a good woman, ladyship. There's just times when you show you're a noble after all."

Pursing her lips, Ellie was about to protest, but Anya was gone. On her way out of the house, Ellie stopped in the morning room where Gareth was slurping at his soup. Leaning in to Anya, she spoke in a low tone but forcefully. "I am a noblewoman. My parents taught me that that is about more than wearing a title. It's about serving your people, your teyrnir, your country, even if that takes you away from other things. That is what this is about."

"Ah, is that what it's about. I see, m'lady." Anya's tone was dubious.

Ellie reddened. It was clear, however, that this line of discussion was going nowhere, and she was going to be late for the council meeting if she stopped to defend all her actions to the servants. She and Loghain allowed Anya great latitude, but there were times when Ellie regretted it. She forced a smile as she kissed Gareth's forehead and departed.

The other councillors were present and mostly seated when Ellie slipped into the room and found her own chair across from Loghain's. He met her eyes and nodded once, his usually impassive face softening briefly at sight of her. Cailan was leaning against his great chair at the head of the council table, occasionally exchanging banter with those near him. Anora sat at his right. Things between them were, by all appearances, calmer. The king had even made a formal apology to Anora in front of Loghain for striking her, and seemed genuinely chastened by the experience. Loghain was skeptical that he had actually reformed, but even he could not deny that Cailan's demeanor was improved.

The young king was in high spirits as he called the council meeting to order. One thing that Cailan could do as well as his father was make even formal meetings seem like cordial chats between friends. On this day, he was apparently feeling expansive. "This is a momentous day, friends. I am aware that some of you have been dissatisfied with certain of my actions up to this point. You think I have not lived up to my father's greatness. It pains me, but I am inclined to agree with you."

There was a murmur in the chamber. Ellie shot a glance at Loghain. He was seated sideways, leaning back in his chair with his jaw resting on one hand, regarding Cailan with a hawk's glare. His expression never wavered.

Cailan lifted a hand to silence the councillors and went on. "I have spent some months in thought and study of my father's papers. I called you here to open my mind to you, as my trusted friends and advisors. I have tried to carry on Maric's legacy, but only in the small things, in the petty disputes of land and taxes and bann rights. My father looked beyond these things. He saw not just what Ferelden is, but what we could be. He was great not because he spent his days minding the small affairs of the kingdom. My father knew each of his lords by name, but that was not enough. He was not resting on what he had accomplished. He was looking beyond Ferelden's borders. He gave his life to secure our place among the nations. We have mourned him too long, friends. It is time for me to truly take up his mantle, and for that I have to take up his causes."

The king paused, gesturing to a steward who waited at the side door. While the steward stepped outside, Cailan was already continuing his speech. "I am going to re-institute my father's plans to build a royal navy and to secure a more favorable trade alliance with the Free Marches. I plan to lobby the free peoples of Thedas to establish permanent diplomatic embassies in Denerim. The first of these is already under way. Gentlemen and ladies, may I introduce to you the first envoy from Orlais to take up residence in Ferelden since the end of the occupation. We welcome you to our court, Baron Rodolfe de Bruyn."

A man in sea-blue velvets, gold trimmed, had entered with the steward. He had a thick shock of curly grey hair that stood up in a lopsided salute on his head, flopping forward and back again as he bowed low in Cailan's direction. His Fereldan was only lightly accented. "It is my honor, King Cailan. I am to convey the personal greetings of her majesty Empress Celene to you, to your illustrious Queen Anora, and to all of the lords and ladies of your court."

The Orlesian went on to other long-winded niceties about the friendship between Ferelden and Orlais, comparing its past difficulties to a quarrel between sisters. Loghain had shifted in his chair and was leaning forward, gaze trained on the Orlesian ambassador as though he might skewer the man to the wall with it. Ellie noticed him briefly break it off in an attempt to catch Anora's attention, but the queen was avoiding her father's eyes and keeping her own trained on the ambassador.

Cailan finally cut the ambassador off to take the floor back. "I have accepted the baron's credentials and approved plans for construction of a residence in the palace district. Though we have sent invitations to other countries across Thedas, it is fitting that Orlais should be the first. My father himself spoke of the importance of cementing the friendship and peace between our two great nations. The ambassador has also delivered to me an invitation from Empress Celene for a state visit in Val Royeux next summer. I intend to accept. Some of you, my lords, may be invited to travel with the royal entourage. There will be time to discuss that, however."

There was so much murmuring that Cailan only made a half-hearted attempt to discuss the other things on the agenda, that year's harvest and of the royal Harvestmere celebrations and of an outbreak of flux in the alienage. Ellie could see that Loghain was not hearing a word. When the meeting broke up, Cailan made a quick exit through the side door, Anora right behind him. Ellie had a hard time catching up with her husband in the hallway. She followed him into Anora's chambers. The queen was putting her papers down on her desk and turned to meet them.

"What is this?" Loghain demanded.

Anora's tone was conciliatory. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. We were going forward with it regardless, and I knew it would only cause trouble if you knew."

"You should have told me. This is a farce. And putting this at Maric's feet?" Loghain laughed bitterly. "Maric exchanged letters with Celene once or twice, so now we're one big happy family. In his deep study of his father's writings, Cailan obviously didn't come across the part where his father cut off contact with Celene because he found out she was trying to insert bards into the court. Of course, why would you care about that, Anora? Maric fought to keep the bards out, but you have one bloody fluffing the bedcovers for you every night! Now this prancing dandy is going to have the run of the palace, too?"

"Father, keep your voice down." Erlina was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but she was never far from the queen's side. Stepping close, Anora went on, entreating him. "Cailan isn't wrong. Maric did want better relations with Orlais. You said yourself, when you were investigating his disappearance, that you can't keep an eye on someone unless they're close enough to see." Anora gestured. "Now we'll be a bit closer. It doesn't mean that Fereldan interests will be jeopardized. I won't let that happen. We can always send the ambassador back if he causes trouble."

Loghain had started shaking his head before she was even done speaking. "When did you become so naive, Anora?" Ellie put a hand on his arm, but he angrily shook it off and pointed a finger at his daughter. "This will not end well, I promise you. You don't know what these people are like. You are thinking that Orlesians are like our nobles. As worthless as most of the lords of Ferelden are, they are meek and virtuous compared to those snakes. A hand of friendship from Orlais is just a way to conceal the poison dart. Always."

The queen was keeping her composure with an obvious effort. "Thank you for your counsel, Father. If that is all...? Elissa, it was good to see you."

Although Loghain stood rooted, unwilling to be dismissed, he eventually let Ellie pull him out of the royal chamber. He shot a glance at Cailan's door when they passed, but made no attempt to divert. As they descended the great stair, Ellie heard him mutter, "Cailan the great diplomat. Maker help us all."

After Gareth had been put to bed that evening, Ellie looked in on Loghain and found him standing at the window of his study, looking out on the lantern lights of the city barely visible through the trees. He spoke to her without turning. "Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if that Orlesian captain had left us alone. I'd be a farmer now. My daughters would have married cobblers or blacksmiths."

"I would probably never have met you." Ellie put an arm around his waist from behind, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

"You wouldn't want me if you had. I'd have dirt under my fingernails."

"I'm not afraid of dirt."

"No. You aren't." Slowly Loghain turned and pulled her to him, drawing her into an embrace. As he rubbed her back, some of the tension went out of him. With one hand he reached up and pulled at the gold comb at the back of her head, loosening her hair.

Ellie's knees weakened under her as she felt his breath against her neck, just where the hair met her ear. She had to swallow hard to speak. "You don't mind that I am in the palace more often?"

Loghain pulled back and brushed a palm over her cheek, looking down at her face. "No. You are a credit to me in all ways. It all seems less mad when I see you across the table."

"It's not so bad, this embassy..."

He shook his head, cutting her off. "I don't want to talk about it. Those bastards can have you in council, but I get you to myself here." He leaned down and kissed her, and had begun to unlace her bodice when they heard the door crack open behind them. Turning, Ellie saw the top of a curly head peeking in the door.

"Gareth. You are supposed to be in bed." She stepped over to the door, opening it to admit the little intruder.

"'Nother story, mamma. Just one more." Gareth held up a stubby finger, mimicking how his parents looked when promising or threatening just one more lemon drop or one more offense before he would be punished. This was clearly a negotiation.

Sighing, Ellie scooped the pajama-clad bundle up and shot Loghain an apologetic look. He smiled, gesturing with his head towards Gareth's room. "Almost to myself, at any rate. I'll come with you."

By the time that Bobo the friendly bear had saved the hunter from a troll, earning safety in the forest as his thanks, Gareth was asleep and Loghain had again begun to flutter Ellie's neck with kisses. "Let's take a ride tomorrow, just the two of us," he whispered as she was reaching to extinguish the lamp on their son's end table.

She waited to reply until they were out in the hall and she had pulled Gareth's door partly closed. "Alright," she nodded, smiling. "We haven't done that in a long time."

Cutha padded up the hallway towards them as though summoned by talk of riding out. Ellie put a finger to her mouth to shush the hound. Cutha often slept in Gareth's room, at the foot of the bed, but he was prone to loud snuffling and sighing as he settled in for sleep. "Shh, boy. You can go in, but Gareth just fell asleep. If you wake him, I'll have your hide."

Loghain pulled on her arm. "Let's go. If Cutha wakes him then he can tell the next story."

The next day they walked their horses out of the royal stables and to the northern gate, then rode along the main road until they found a smooth track that wound deeper into the countryside. Gareth stayed behind with Anya, but Cutha bounded along behind both of them, veering off into the woods occasionally. Ellie diverted once, too, when she spied a pear tree that was laden with fruit. She picked a few to submit for Anya's approval and they stopped at the farmer's house to pay a silver for their take. Back on the path, they passed only a few haycarts bringing in the final cutting of the year before Ferelden's long winter set in.

With the sun high in the sky, Loghain spread out his cloak on a meadow just off the path, and they ate their lunch. As they lay curled together, dozing in the sun, he spoke up in a lazy voice. "Do you remember the day of the wedding hunt? Our wedding, I mean?"

Ellie didn't open her eyes, but she smiled. "I remember I stole you away from the company at the midday break."

"So you did, cheeky girl." Loghain was silent a time before going on. "When I asked what you expected of me, you said you wanted to be friends."

"I can't believe you remember that."

His voice rumbled in his chest when he spoke. "It was the first time we really talked. Of course I remember. I got my first good look at you up close, too."

"I imagine you saw lots of mud."

"A little. But you were quite lovely for all that." Even with eyes closed, Ellie could tell that Loghain was smiling. He paused before he spoke again. "I think we've done it, don't you?"

She moved, lifting her head to look at him and bracing one hand against his chest. "Done what?"

"I think we're friends." Loghain had also opened his eyes and was watching her steadily.

"Of course we are."

He shook his head. "Don't say that quickly. It's not as easy as that."

"Loghain, what are you talking about? You're my best friend. Almost my only friend."

He reached up to touch her hair, gently as though she were a fragile thing, and Ellie began to worry that his manner was so strange. She was about to ask if there was something wrong when he continued quietly, "I've only ever had two or three that I called true friends. I believe, looking back, there was actually only one. Only Maric. What I had with Rowan and with Celia, that was ruined after." Loghain stopped and let his hand fall, turning his head away from her.

Staring, Ellie tried to figure out what it was that he wasn't saying. She thought she could hazard a guess. "I'm not going anywhere, Loghain. Nothing's going to be ruined."

His mouth twitched, almost smiling. Loghain said nothing more, only turned back and pulled her closer.

End chapter 19.

Modifié par Addai67, 01 janvier 2011 - 01:43 .

[Sarah1281]

What in th e world in Anya going on about? It doesn't seem like Elissa is neglecting Gareth and she can't spend all her time with him, after all. The "If you couldn't see your boy as much as you'd like, you'd know what I'm on about" line made me curious. Does she think Elissa is having an affair? I can't imagine someone who grew up in the tower would have any old-fashioned notions that Elissa's life is supposed to revolve completely around her husband and son and that was kind of what the 'Why do you need to do other things besides have a husband and son' part sounded like...unless she thinks that Elissa is jeopardizing it with an affair.



Anora probably should have mentioned the situation to Loghain before the meeting if only to make sure he didn't make an outburst, I think. Does this mean Cailan is going to attempt to be competent?

[DragonRacer13]

Oh, boy, lots of good stuff, as always!

Sarah, my theory about what Anya was going on about is maybe she had a son once and he was taken away, either because she's a mage or he was showing signs of magic? To me, it sounded like she was coming off because of some past loss of her own. Not that I agree with her, but that was how I interpreted it.

Otherwise, my absolute favorite part was the mental images conjured of Loghain playing horsey with Gareth and making "the appropriate horsey noises". Somebody with artistic talent seriously needs to make a fanart of that. Wish Aimo or Pseudocognition were following this story and not trapped in the DA2 Varric thread.

[Addai]

Heh, never know what people are going to react to. It's fun to see.

Good points with Anya. There is also some classism involved. Wrong or right, she's asking Ellie to consider what really matters. If there's any theme to the whole story, it's that. But now I'm going to slink back into the shadows. Thanks for the read, all!

Modifié par Addai67, 01 janvier 2011 - 11:35 .

[Addai]

Sarah1281 wrote...

What in th e world in Anya going on about? It doesn't seem like Elissa is neglecting Gareth and she can't spend all her time with him, after all. The "If you couldn't see your boy as much as you'd like, you'd know what I'm on about" line made me curious. Does she think Elissa is having an affair? I can't imagine someone who grew up in the tower would have any old-fashioned notions that Elissa's life is supposed to revolve completely around her husband and son and that was kind of what the 'Why do you need to do other things besides have a husband and son' part sounded like...unless she thinks that Elissa is jeopardizing it with an affair.

(husband)

If medieval Europe has any basis for Ferelden culture then I would say, it would be a normal expectation that a wife's life should revolve around her husband and children.    It's only the player character nature of the Cousland that goes against the type.

[Sarah1281]

Addai67 wrote...

Sarah1281 wrote...

What in th e world in Anya going on about? It doesn't seem like Elissa is neglecting Gareth and she can't spend all her time with him, after all. The "If you couldn't see your boy as much as you'd like, you'd know what I'm on about" line made me curious. Does she think Elissa is having an affair? I can't imagine someone who grew up in the tower would have any old-fashioned notions that Elissa's life is supposed to revolve completely around her husband and son and that was kind of what the 'Why do you need to do other things besides have a husband and son' part sounded like...unless she thinks that Elissa is jeopardizing it with an affair.

(husband)

If medieval Europe has any basis for Ferelden culture then I would say, it would be a normal expectation that a wife's life should revolve around her husband and children.    It's only the player character nature of the Cousland that goes against the type.

I rather doubt that a noblewoman was supposed to spend her life solely devoted to her children. In fact, isn't that what they hired people for? I can't actually imagine making my whole life revolve around a child or children, though. At some point they grow up and stop needing/start resenting non-stop attention and then what are you left with?

Seriously, until Gareth starts getting neglected I think Anya should stop being perfectly fine with Loghain being gone for months on end and barely being around for the birth of his son while Elissa is gone for a few hours in meetings not far from her home. Besides, if Elissa starts doing all the child-caring all the time then why was Anya kept from the Circle anyway? *strongly approves of Elissa telling her to shut it* 

Edit: As for 'what really matters', I think trying to keep Ferelden from falling apart so that Gareth won't be killed or forced into exile is more important than Gareth being able to play with his mother whenever the urge strikes him.

Modifié par Sarah1281, 02 janvier 2011 - 03:15 .

[Addai]

I rather doubt that a noblewoman was supposed to spend her life solely
devoted to her children. In fact, isn't that what they hired people
for? I can't actually imagine making my whole life revolve around a
child or children, though. At some point they grow up and stop
needing/start resenting non-stop attention and then what are you left
with?

Seriously, until Gareth starts getting neglected I think
Anya should stop being perfectly fine with Loghain being gone for months
on end and barely being around for the birth of his son while Elissa is
gone for a few hours in meetings not far from her home. Besides, if
Elissa starts doing all the child-caring all the time then why was Anya
kept from the Circle anyway? *strongly approves of Elissa telling her to
shut it* 

Edit: As for 'what really matters', I think trying to
keep Ferelden from falling apart so that Gareth won't be killed or
forced into exile is more important than Gareth being able to play with
his mother whenever the urge strikes him.

(husband)


Sure not all their time was spent around kids and husband.   There was also lots and lots of sowing and gossiping, and attending various social events.

[The-Rogue-Princess]

I discovered this last night, and could not stop reading! This is absolutly amazing. Fantasic work Miss Addai! You have sucessfully changed my opinion of Loghain. I can't wait for the next installment! You have yourself another devoted follower.

[Addai]

Thank you! Glad you liked it. 

Modifié par Addai67, 03 janvier 2011 - 02:35 .

[Shinobu]

Not caught up on all the chapters yet but wanted to comment. I'm not a big Loghain OR Cousland fan, but you've won me over with this story. It's really well-written with an interesting plot! I like the practical way Ellie and Loghain go about their relationship -- it's not all sighs and bodice-ripping (not that there isn't a place for that as well!). I also like your OC Anya and am interested to know what becomes of her...

Modifié par Shinobu, 03 janvier 2011 - 04:44 .

[Addai]

Heh, glad you took a chance on it, Shinobu, and found it worth your time. Funny thing is I was neither a very big Loghain or Cousland fan myself, though I always did like The Stolen Throne and in many ways I see this as my Gaider-fan nod to that book.

Modifié par Addai67, 03 janvier 2011 - 04:10 .

[Shinobu]

Caught up now. The polecat discussion was priceless! And the chapter ended on a really nice note, though it makes me worried about what will come next...

[Addai]

Loghain is too much fun. 

Glad to have you on board!

Modifié par Addai67, 07 janvier 2011 - 04:49 .

[Esbatty]

ah yes, i needed a great read to make up for my own lack of writing. you never disappoint Addai!.

[Addai]

Welcome back, Esbatty, good to see you.



I'm dawdling but next chapter is in the works.

[Esbatty]

Take all the time you need. I know I have... when the internet eats the same chapter almost a dozen times, sometimes you take the hint and take a break lol

[Addai]

Chapter 20

23 Drakonis, 9:29 Dragon Age

The Orlesian ambassador had prepared a speech, but he was having a hard time getting through it. That was just as Loghain wanted it.

Around the meeting table sat numerous lords and those of the royal staff who were preparing for Cailan's state visit to Val Royeux in summer, called there by Anora. Though the queen herself would be remaining in Denerim, she was supporting the effort and doing most of the planning. She and Cailan sat at the head of the table. Bryce had been invited to accompany the king and had made the journey from Highever to attend the meeting. Next to him sat Ellie. Opposite the Couslands and the ambassador, Loghain stood against the wall, dressed in the armor he had stripped from the Orlesian commander at the Battle of River Dane. When de Bruyn began to speak, offering the oily smile and overdone greetings that were his wont, Loghain stepped away from the wall and began to pace.

Back and forth, back and forth, his eyes never leaving the ambassador. De Bruyn was trying to carry on, but occasionally his glance would stray to the general and his words would falter. Looking at his notes, he tried to carry on with his flatteries and assurances, but never with the balance he would otherwise have had. Loghain knew him to be nothing more than the empress' spy. He wanted the ambassador to know that he knew, and for everyone else to be reminded, as well. The very presence of an Orlesian lord in these halls, from which the usurper once supervised the rape of Ferelden, was an insult. De Bruyn did not seem to have any direct relationship to Meghren or the occupation's supporters, but that did little to redeem him in Loghain's eyes.

At last the ambassador gave up and the floor was opened for commentary. A few courtiers returned the baron's flatteries with some of their own, and Arl Leonas Bryland spoke up to ask about security measures. De Bruyn stumbled over the reply and Loghain could see that Leonas wasn't satisfied. Nor should he be, Loghain thought, taking some grim pleasure in the fact that not everyone was sleeping.

Then Bryce stood at his place, folding his hands behind him. "Your Majesties, I am happy to accept this invitation. Highever has valuable trade and diplomatic contacts in Orlais, and I believe this visit will further them immensely. There is no substitute for the tete à tete, eh, ambassador?" Loghain could barely keep from rolling his eyes as Bryce and the Orlesian exchanged smiles.  Cousland then turned back to the table and added, "I would also like Elissa to be part of the delegation, if the crown has no objection to adding her to the roster."

"Absolutely not!" Loghain stepped forward, locking eyes with the other teyrn. He could feel Ellie's eyes on him, as well, and gestured towards her. "Elissa is Teyrna of Gwaren, not Highever. Gwaren has no need to lick the boots of the Orlesians."

Bryce's gaze was equally sharp. "Nevertheless she represents our interests to the crown, as well. She is here, is she not? I assumed..."

Cousland fell silent when Ellie put a hand on his arm. She shot Loghain a warning glance. "We can discuss this later. Surely a decision does not need to be made now? Thank you, Father."

"Yes, thank you, Bryce," Anora put in, taking the floor back. "Are there any other concerns or requests?"

Loghain did not hear the rest of the palaver. He had resumed his pacing, but with different intent than to unsettle the gasbag of an ambassador. Though he was sure that she would not want to leave Gareth behind for several weeks anyway, the very idea of his wife surrounded by Orlesians, being plied by their trappings, having either to apologize for being the wife of the Hero of River Dane or defend his honor, made him ill. It was bad enough that Anora was supporting the venture. When the meeting broke up, Ellie left with Bryce, eyes locked with Loghain's. He shook his head, warning her not to test him, but she quickly shifted her gaze and withdrew from the hall.

Later that afternoon, Ellie appeared at his study door. She had been at practice and was still in leathers, sweaty and with her long auburn hair tied back. It was a look that on more than one occasion made his knees go weak. When they had joint weapons practice, they sometimes ended with private exercises. On this afternoon, however, Orlais was between them, and with little preamble she turned the subject there.

"I think I'm going to go," she began, tentative, eyes shining with anticipation.

He looked up sharply. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Loghain, just stop and think a minute..."

"Think? I seem to be the only one in this palace willing to do so at all. Perhaps the only one in the kingdom."

The volume of both their voices was steadily increasing. "Father is right. As far as the crown is concerned, I represent both Gwaren and Highever. I should be there. Like it or not, Orlais is our neighbor and too large a power to ignore."

Loghain cut the air with his hand. "Put this out of your mind, Ellie. It's not going to happen. I'll not have my wife drawn into Orlesian intrigues, in the very pit where they're bred. Can you not see what is happening? They are waging a soft war now, and will win back everything we fought for without a single clash of swords. No. Absolutely not."

Ellie reddened, squaring off in front of him. "I am not just your wife. I have my own mind and my own standing, as I did before I even married you. Do not forget that, Mac Tir."

"And what about Gareth? Are you going to go explain to him that you have your own mind and he matters little in your grand plans?" Loghain knew that he was moving into unfair territory, especially since he was so frequently absent from his family, but desperation was moving him. When it came to winning, no tactic could be considered out of bounds.

To his surprise, Ellie calmed a little. Her tone was earnest. "I am considering Gareth. Loghain, whatever you or I may think of Orlais, Ferelden is going to have closer relations with her. Our son will be teyrn after you. He's going to have to make his way in the world as it is, not the world as you want it to be. Maybe I can make some bridges for him. He's a Mac Tir. It is time to make that name mean something more than war."

Loghain flinched. He had accepted that his elevation by Maric meant little, since he was a soldier and always would be. Ellie was right that the name Mac Tir was covered in blood and that Gareth would inherit that legacy. He had thought that Ellie held it in more honor than most, however. His voice quiet and seething, he answered, "Since you know so much about it all, I am sure you realize that a river can be a defense as well as a barrier. I know what's on the other side of the bridges you want to build, Ellie. I've seen it. I aim to see to it that you and Gareth never have to."

Ellie shook her head, her frustration apparent again as her arguments met his stubbornness. "This is not about your family! The men who hurt your mother are long gone. Don't make the rest of us live with your pain forever."

Loghain came around to face her, his eyes burning dangerously. In a low, even tone, he replied, "What happened to my family was repeated countless times over. You speak of things you do not understand. How fortunate for you that others suffered so that you could now feel important with vain ambitions."

She did not back down under his gaze. "My family suffered, too, or are you forgetting that? Yet my father seems able to see beyond it. Why can't you? It's just a visit, Loghain. I'm hardly going to be building a summer home in Val Royeux."

"If it was just a visit, you would not put so much stock in it. You would back down."

Ellie expelled a breath and rubbed at her forehead. After a pause she spoke again. "I am sorry you see things this way, but I have made up my mind. I think this for the best for all of us. I hope you can come around and will not make this more difficult for me and for Gareth."

He turned, resignation fighting against rage. There were nobles that supported him in holding the line against Orlesian incursions into Fereldan society, but losing Elissa's support would weaken him considerably, besides making him look personally foolish. His jaw working, Loghain did what he had long before learned to do when something hurt. He let it teach him. It was good to be reminded that he could not count on anyone, not even on Ellie.

With quiet bitterness he replied, "Do as you will. I know the first rule of our marriage. I am not allowed to forbid you anything."

"Do not be petulant, Loghain. It doesn't suit you."

He turned his head. "Leave it. I think you should go now, Ellie. I have work to do."

There was a pause, and Loghain assumed that she was withdrawing quietly. However, he then felt and heard the thwack of her fist against his shoulder. After another moment she did it again. Turning, he grabbed her arm just as she was raising it to strike his back again. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I told you that you aren't going to just dismiss me any longer. Apparently I have to beat the lesson into you." She jerked at her arm, trying to free it, face red with anger and exertion. "Let me go. We're going to have this out right now, Mac Tir. With swords, if you prefer."

"Ellie, for the love of the Maker, this isn't a game."

"No, it isn't!" She relented, but stared up at him with challenge. "You hate the idea of my traveling to Orlais, I know, but we are a pair, not lord and servant. Are you ashamed that the Orlesians would see that I am your wife?"

"If you intend to act like such a child, then maybe I am."

She glared at him, and Loghain thought she might slap him. There was a pause where both of them sized the other up as though they were indeed facing each other with swords. With little cognition of what he was doing, Loghain found kissing her, and a few moments later they slumped against the wall, his body pinning hers as he began to grope at leather. He was no less angry or desperate to dissuade her than he had been moments before, in fact he felt even angrier at her obstinacy. Likewise Ellie looked every bit put out by the turn of events. Nonetheless when he failed to get her breeches unlaced quickly enough, she pushed his hand away and loosed them herself, hauling them down moments before he lifted her hips and entered her.

It was difficult to penetrate her fully at first, and in frustration he stabbed, kissing at Ellie's neck, until she was finally able to shift and take him in. They both murmured and fought, the awkward stance making the motion less satisfying than usual at the same time that both of them were urged on by illicit charge. Loghain did not require long to feel his end coming, but he held himself, leaning back to let Ellie rock against him as her own need dictated. Only when he felt the telltale shudder in her thighs and heard her gasp did he press her against the wall again and thrust quickly to finish with her.

Their mouths met for a few awkward kisses before they released each other, feverish and looking somewhat sheepish as they re-arranged their clothing. Loghain glanced toward the door. His guard stood without and might have overheard, but at least Alun Marwell was on duty and he not likely to gossip.

Allowing a hand to linger on Ellie's waist, Loghain met her gaze then looked away again. "Well. We should talk more about all this later."

Ellie nodded demurely, hovering close to him before she finally broke away. "You're coming home soon?"

"Soon," Loghain confirmed, nodding. He made to look at his papers, but when Ellie turned to leave his eyes followed her, trailing down the slender backside once again covered by her close-fitting leathers. That she might be subject to the gaze of Orlesian degenerates soon was a thought he was trying to keep at bay, but there was also some satisfaction in the idea. If they had any manhood at all, they would envy the Hero of River Dane more than his armor. In spite of himself, Loghain's lip was curled in a small grin as he sat down to his desk.

An hour and a half later, he doused the lamps and locked the study door behind him. "Walk with me," Loghain directed Alun brusquely, throwing on his cloak and not waiting to see if the guard followed.

He did, and even burly a man as he was had no trouble keeping up. Neither man spoke until they were out of the palace proper and walking the path towards the residence. Finally Loghain began, "You were at the meeting. You heard what was suggested, about the teyrna going to Orlais?"

"I did, m'lord."

"This is no small thing I ask you. If she insists on going, then I want you to go with her. Watch over her like a tick on a mabari. Watch everyone else who is watching her. Be her shadow every moment." He glanced at Alun. The notion of the squat guard with massive limbs as a shadow for Ellie was humorous, though Loghain's expression never changed. He added, "You'll have to watch that mage, too, since I'll want her to go along."

Alun looked over. "Anya?"

"Do you know any other mages in my employ? Anya. Gareth will have to get by without nurse or mother for a while, since I want a healer by Ellie's side." Loghain cursed quietly. He was normally careful about badmouthing the king in front of others, but Alun was a friend. He remembered Maric well. "Fool's errand, this is. Cailan is playing at being important and now my wife insists on tagging along. That ought to please the gossips. Watch those, too. There'll be a lot of silly nobles in Cailan's entourage and Maker knows what fools they'll make of all of us."

When Loghain ceased his grumbling, there was silence while the two men walked, boots crunching in the snow. Finally the guardsman spoke up. "I was just a boy, your grace, but I remember the heads." The teyrn looked over and followed Alun's hand as it gestured towards the palace walls. "I grew up here in Denerim. I was message boy for my father's forges. Had to come to the palace sometimes and I'd see 'em set up on pikes, looking down at me with the birds plucking at their eyes until there weren't no more eyes to pluck."

Alun fell silent and Loghain made no reply, only walked with head bowed, both men somber. After a time Marwell went on. "Then there was the butcher on our street who'd come over from Jader or some such place, 'cause there was too many butchers wherever he come from and he thought he could try his hand here. I played rounders with his boy in the square, when we could get boys to play. Kids didn't like the 'dirty Orlesian' any more than the parents liked to buy from his father, only the butcher had low prices, and that made some even angrier. When the rebels come, you and Prince Maric as was, some in the neighborhood figured they'd had enough. Turned the butcher and his family out and burned their shop while the poor sods watched. Fools caught a few other houses afire, too, and then the butcher's family had to run for their lives from the mob because that was their fault somehow, too." Marwell paused, then concluded, "I never knew which was worse, Teyrn Loghain. The heads or that fire. Still don't."

Loghain glanced at him. "Are you telling me you would rather not have this duty?"

"No, ser," Alun answered quickly. "It just put me to mind of it, that's all. Rest easy. I got left behind when the king sailed, but I won't be caught useless twice."

"Good man. This time I'll be the only useless one."

Loghain left Alun in the foyer and went in through the parlor, following voices until he found Ellie and Gareth in the three year-old's room building a fortress of blankets draped over chairs and chests. As his father entered, Gareth burst up through the middle of the fortress, scattering blankets with a growling war cry. "Your castle is MINE!"

"Infiltration. An excellent tactic, Lieutenant Gareth, if one can manage it," Loghain observed cheerfully. The boy turned his menacing invader scowl towards his father and waved an imaginary sword in the air.

Poking her head out from the collapsed blankets, Ellie said, "Ah, you're home. Gareth has eaten his dinner already but I waited for you."

She started to rise, but Gareth cut off her retreat with the imaginary sword. "Stop! You're my prisoner, mamma!"

The prisoner turned and patted Gareth's dark curls. "You stay here and play. I'll send Anya in with some cake for my ransom."

The price was apparently considered fair, since the youngest Mac Tir turned back to set about reconstructing the fortress. Ellie straightened her dress and dress and approached Loghain, glancing at him with evident nervousness. Their afternoon romp had been too quick and forced for them to feel like their argument was really done.

As they came through to the kitchen, they found the mage attendant talking with Alun in the hallway. "Anya, would you... oh." She stopped short. "Never mind. You're busy. I'll have Elsbet take Gareth his cake."

"No trouble, m'lady. I'll see to it."

Loghain was guarded over their dinner, though avoiding any talk of the palace left him and Ellie with little to discuss. When he was nearly finished, he finally spoke up quietly. "You're going to insist?"

"I'm afraid I am."

Loghain shook his head, laying his fork aside. He had fought Maric, too, and after the ships went down, had cursed himself for not fighting harder. Yet once long ago when he had objected to the idea of the king going on a dangerous excursion, Maric had given in to his face and then gone anyway, in secret. Ellie was not likely to do the same, but Loghain also knew that you could go away from a person in more ways than one. He and Celia had done that even before he returned to Denerim.

"Alright," he answered, heart heavy. "You must do as you will. Teyrna." Loghain spoke this last word gravely, with no hint of sarcasm. Ellie was right that with their difference in ages, not only Gareth but she might have to bear their titles someday without him. He knew with certainty that the trip was a mistake, but perhaps she would learn from it in time. His tone turned sharp. "If one of those painted bastards so much as looks at you improperly, I'll cross the country collecting all the chevalier armor I need to in order to put the wh-reson down."

Ellie smiled mischievously. "So romantic, you are."

Loghain snorted and stood back from the table, wanting the conversation done. He wandered into Gareth's room to find Anya haranguing the three year-old to put his toys away so he could get ready for bed, and Gareth calmly stating that he wasn't ready yet.

"You'll do as your told, Gareth," Loghain said sternly as he entered. The boy jumped, not having realized that his father was behind him. Though he didn't look happy about it, he stood and began methodically carrying toys to the chest. Anya glanced and Loghain and nodded her thanks. "I'll take it from here, Anya. Thank you."

"You stayin, da?" Gareth asked with a surprised grin. It was a rarity that he got his father all to himself at bedtime.

"Is that alright with you, Lieutenant?" Loghain returned the smile. He received an emphatic nod in reply, and the boy picked up the pace of his tidying, more motivated with his father supervising rather than his nurse. Anya left them, and Loghain tended to the fire in the hearth while Gareth finished with the toys.

Finally, having changed into a sleep tunic and tucked into the covers by his father, Gareth asked, "Can I go to see the soldiers tomorrow?"

Loghain sat down on the edge of the bed. "Not tomorrow. I have some things to do."

"Soon?"

"We'll see. The men do ask about you."

"I like 'em."

"I know you do." Loghain smiled, brushing a hand over Gareth's head. He did not often bring his son to the barracks and practice halls. It was irregular and Loghain was conscious of relaxing discipline too much. There were always bandits and seacoast raiders, the odd darkspawn attack or abomination which was mostly handled by templars. Nevertheless it had been a long time since Ferelden had known real war, and as general Loghain was concerned that the troops keep sharp. He ran tough practices and drills, and every summer would call in the officers from the various parts of Ferelden for field exercises. His men did ask after the little teyrn, however, and treated him like a celebrity. For his part, Gareth was enthralled at barracks life, at seeing mabari in training or sword practice, and would talk about these things for days after being allowed to visit.

Gareth let out a massive yawn, but recovered enough to ask another question. "Da? Did you ride a griffon?"

"A griffon? Where did you hear about those?"

"Mamma told me. The Grey Wardens ride 'em."

Loghain scowled. "There's no such thing and likely never was. It's a story, Gareth. Real soldiers don't ride mythical flying beasts into battle. They trust their arm and the man beside them. That's all you need."

The little boy's eyelids were drooping. "I want... a griffon..." Before his father could protest any further, the brown eyes closed and Gareth was asleep. Loghain watched his son sleeping for a few moments before finally leaning forward to kiss his forehead and pull the covers closer.

He then retired to his study, but the maids had made a fire earlier in the evening and the room was close. After pacing a bit, Loghain went back to the foyer and pulled on his boots, slinging a cloak loosely over his shoulders. Snow had blown in on the terrace, but he brushed some off a chair and sat looking out over the empty yard. The half-melted remains of a snowman he and Gareth had made a few days before looked ghoulishly back at him.

His thoughts were morose. Cailan was a fool chasing some image of his father, but that his own wife and daughter could not see the danger in this course the country was taking was maddening. It all came down to Bryce and Eamon, two who ought to know better. Their fetish for Orlais and intent to open Ferelden's borders wide were leading others in that direction, making them complacent. Maric had been a restraining influence. The king had tried to resettle Orlesians left behind after the usurper king was dead, and he was open to normalizing relations with Orlais, but mostly Maric was cautious apart from a few reckless lapses. If men like Cousland and Eamon Guerrin were in a hurry to turn Ferelden into an Orlesian client state, how could the younger generation be expected to understand? They thought that the stories of the war were exaggerated, that it was all water under the bridge. They couldn't possibly know what Loghain knew and what the other men should know as well: That the sickness of Orlesian decadence and ambition was incurable. The only solution was quarantine.

Loghain heard the door open and turned to see Ellie emerge from the house, a blanket thrown over her shoulders. "You're going to turn into a snowman yourself if you stay out here much longer." She stepped over to him and seated herself crosswise on his lap, tucking the blanket around them both and leaning against the chair, regarding him. Loghain slipped an arm around her waist and didn't reply. After a moment she spoke up again, quietly. "I wanted to apologize for what I said about your family. I have no right to bring them up. You are right that I don't know what I'm talking about. I could never have survived what you all did, you and Maric and Rowan and the others."

"If anything good comes of this, it will be that you see the truth. As for surviving, I believe you would, Ellie. Others might not, but you have Rowan's strength. If pushed to it, you would do what you had to do."

"I'm glad you think so."

Loghain lifted a hand, brushing at her cheek. "You asked if I was ashamed for the Orlesians to see my wife. I am not. Cailan is going to fawn over them and make us ridiculous, but you will be there and they will know we are still Fereldans. You tell those bastards, any time you get a chance, that even with Maric gone, not all of us have forgotten."

"You should have more faith in Cailan, Loghain. He is ambitious, but he seems to be trying. And Anora is behind him in this."

"I would feel better if Anora going and not Cailan. She thinks it will do him some good to be kingly." Loghain snorted derisively. "Oh, he'll love the Orlesians alright, and they will love him. Flatterers and airheads all. Keep an eye on Cailan, Ellie. I am sending Alun with you. He's a good man and was Maric's guard for many years. If Cailan gets himself in trouble, you can trust Alun to know what to do."

Ellie smiled. "Alun is coming with us? That should please Anya."

"How so?" Loghain lifted a brow, still more wrapped up in his thoughts than concerned with how the servants felt about their duties.

Looking at him incredulously, Ellie poked a finger at his rib. "Loghain, don't be so thick."

"Thick? What are you on about?"

She pursed her lips. "They fancy each other. Don't tell me you haven't seen it."

The notion had never occurred to him. Alun was just Alun, he had been in Maric's service for years, and if he had ever had any family of his own, Loghain was not aware of one. Many who reached that level in the guard or the army had none. It had been his own lot for many years as widower, since Anora stayed with a governess and even as a child had never seemed to have any need for him. In any case, if Marwell did have an inclination to lie down with someone, Loghain doubted it would be with that misshapen shrew of a mage.

He shook his head. "You're imagining things. And you're as bad as the maids with all your gossip."

Ellie's smile remained, and she gave him one of the smug looks she got when she couldn't wait for him to be shown up. "As you say, your grace." Turning, she lay her head back on his shoulder and sat quietly a few moments, Loghain's arm looped around her waist. Finally she spoke up again. "How did you do it, anyway? All those things you and Maric and Rowan and everyone did. How did you survive?"

Loghain took his time to answer. When he did so, he spoke slowly, remembering. "The others, Rowan and her father, they were real warriors. I was just a hunter, a bandit. All I wanted to do was survive and get my revenge. Then I saw my father die for the idea that Maric represented more than just the shivering, scared boy he appeared to be. I had heard Father say 'you aren't a man unless you can die for something other than yourself.' I never knew he was serious about that." He paused, trying to call up the image of the first Gareth Mac Tir. The outline was always faded. He could hardly remember anymore what his parents looked like.

After a moment he added, "That's how I did it. If you consider yourself a dead man, you have the courage to do things you wouldn't otherwise. I stood on a ridge wearing Maric's cloak with hundreds of Orlesians bearing down on our few men. They were all thirsty to take what they thought was the rebel prince and end the war for good. I was a dead man. If I hadn't been able to accept that, I would not have been able to stand and do what I did. Most of my men didn't survive."

"How did you get out of that alive?"

"Rowan saved me."

Ellie was quiet a time, then said, "So, you're a dead man. That is why you go away from us so often, isn't it? You're trying to remind yourself that you're alone. Dead men don't have a wife and a son, is that it?"

Loghain's voice was thick. "You talk too much, and now I have, as well."

"Answer the question."

He breathed a heavy sigh. After a pause he replied, "I serve Ferelden. You knew that when you married me, and nothing has changed. Don't try to make me into something I'm not. You must either accept it, or..." Or they would arrive at the same pass he and Celia had.  Loghain had tried to convince himself that that was not where they were headed, but after all, it was inevitable.

Ellie sat up and looked at him. Even in the dark, he could see the earnestness in her eyes. "You only thought you were dead. On the ridge, I mean. Rowan saved you. You weren't alone then and you aren't now."

"And are you going to save me?" Loghain's tone was one of grim amusement. Ellie made no reply, and after a moment she rose. Loghain caught her wrist. Looking up at her, he said, "I was on that ridge for Maric, not for me. I'm still a dead man, but I'm not doing it just for Maric anymore."

She paused, then nodded once. "Come in now, Loghain. And don't even think you're getting into my bed without warming those feet first."

The following morning, Loghain set off for Fort Drakon. He had gotten a message that a prisoner had arrived from Amaranthine, a tidy package knit up and presented to him by Rendon Howe. The bookseller who sold the treasonous volume to the Dalish elves had taken ill and died in the dungeons of Vigil's Keep, but before he did, he had provided the arl with several leads of others involved in the "dragon society." Though Loghain had yet to verify all the information, it looked sound, and it came as a pleasant surprise that Rendon had gotten so much out of his investigation. There was at least one noble left in Ferelden who recognized Orlesian trickery for what it was. Loghain had never given the weaselly arl much credit. He had been useful in the rebellion, but had never amounted to much afterward and Mac Tir was never sure why Bryce put stock in him. Now he was beginning to see what the other teyrn might have gotten out of Rendon's vassalage.

The Fort Drakon guards saluted and led him through the vast passages of the mountain fortress. The labyrinthine keep was simultaneously barracks, armory and Ferelden's largest prison. Under the Orlesians, it had served as torture den, as well. The racks and pulleys had either been destroyed or put in storage. Maric had sometimes condoned torture during the war, but disliked its use and there had been little need under the peace.

Civilian prison cells were on an upper floor. The prisoner Loghain came to see had been brought from her cell to a holding room. Surrounded by heavily armed guards as she was, the blonde woman dressed in a stained shift made for a pitiful contrast. She was shaking, though whether from cold or fear Loghain couldn't tell. The guards parted as he entered, and a captain handed him the evidence packet from Howe that Loghain had already examined the day before. The woman looked up at him with terror in her eyes.

"Get her a blanket," Loghain ordered sternly, gesturing at one of the guards. He wanted her to trust him, at least for now. Taking a seat across from the woman, he opened the leather pouch and began taking out the books and papers Howe had sent, laying them out in front of the prisoner. After the guard had brought the blanket and the woman settled it around her shoulders, Loghain spoke up again. "These are yours, I'm told."

"They... we..were...my father's." The woman's teeth were chattering so violently that it was hard for her to speak.
"You kept them even after his death? These books call for the formation of a pan-Orlesian dynasty that includes Ferelden. That is treason. And you kept these, though your mother was dead, too?"

"They were my father's. I ke...kept everything."

Loghain said nothing for an uncomfortably long time, his gaze fixed on her. While conducting interrogations during the rebellion, he had learned that there was something about his eyes which made others uneasy. He never bothered to question what about him had this effect. It was useful and that's all that mattered. After a moment the woman looked down and stared at the table in front of her. Finally Loghain asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"You're Te..Teyrn Loghain."

"Then you know I can help you, if you are willing to help me." There was a flicker of hope in the woman's gaze, just what Loghain was hoping to see. He allowed a smile to cross his lips, assuring her further. "I understand you're from Redcliffe. You have a cousin who works as Arlessa Isolde's lady maid. I want you to visit her. In fact, I think you ought to consider a move. Your parents are dead, and Arl Howe might make life difficult for you if you return to Amaranthine. Your cousin could no doubt get you a position on Isolde's staff. It would be a step up for you. You could have a good life there."

"Redcliffe." She stared dumbly at him, as though the word were foreign to her.

Loghain smiled and nodded. "I think it is best."

End chapter 20.

Modifié par Addai67, 18 janvier 2011 - 05:31 .

[The-Rogue-Princess]

Another excellent chapter! I have a bad feeling about Ellie and Cailan in Orlais.