Living On Borrowed Time
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.
Note: I wonder, really, how many people even remember who Frandlin Ivo is...
If Frandlin of House Ivo had to pick the defining moment in his life, it would be the day Vartag Gavorn came up to him with an offer he was unable to refuse. If the bribe wasn't enough to ensure his cooperation then the threats were. Vartag, of course, wasn't acting in his own interest but on behalf of Orzammar's youngest prince, Bhelen Aeducan. Bhelen had threatened to completely crush his entire House badly enough that it would be generations before it recovered – if it ever did – if he refused to cooperate and to make him his right hand man if he did.
What was he supposed to have done? Bhelen was one of the most powerful men in Orzammar and it wasn't like anyone would offer him any protection if he turned the prince down. King Endrin was far too important to waste time meeting with the second son of the relatively inconsequential Lord Ivo, Prince Trian was convinced that he was as well, and Frandlin had never even met Princess Aunn. He had no proof and no way to convince them either. Most of the other lords important enough to be able to provide protection were already in Bhelen's pocket. He had no choice, really. He had to help Bhelen.
It was ironic, really. Bhelen had sought him out for his skill in combat and his impeccable reputation for integrity and he was called upon to be a central figure in the single biggest conspiracy he'd ever even heard of. It was impossible to be neutral in Orzammar. Well, the casteless might manage it but they didn't really count and Ivo would sooner die than lose his caste anyway. While everyone was forced to be at least peripherally aligned with someone else, the smart ones knew to stay out of the games played by those more important than them.
Frandlin may have been born a noble but he was a member of a lesser House. He was doing what he could to raise it up but he could only do so much on his own and so progress was slow. Bhelen knew this. He knew that he was the only chance House Ivo might ever get to climb to the top and that in the meantime no one would be put out if they were completely and utterly crushed. By allying himself with Bhelen and helping set up Aunn to take the fall for Trian's death he was risking being killed and having his House greatly disgraced…but if he didn't then it was a guarantee. He had to go through with it. It wasn't like Trian and Aunn wouldn't have done the same if they were in Bhelen's position, after all. That was just how the nobility worked.
And so, carrying with him the hopes of all of House Ivo, Frandlin kept his head down and continued to win glory in the Proving arena as he awaited the day he would be called upon to secure for Bhelen the coveted position of future King. It was to take place on the day of Aunn's first command and it struck Frandlin as sad, in a vague sort of way, that what was supposed to be the day that she finally got a chance to try for real power was the day that her life would end in disgrace. Trian was really the one getting off lucky. Sure he would die as well but he'd be remembered as a tragic victim and not a murderous exile.
To his surprise, he actually met the princess the day before he was supposed to. He was, as per usual, entered in the Proving that was being held – he very seldom missed the opportunity to compete but he was grateful that he hadn't been in the one held in the Grey Wardens honor a week before as competing with a casteless was just demeaning – and found himself face-to-face with the lady in whose honor the Proving was being held in the final round. It was the first time he had ever seen her up close and he had to admit that she was very pretty and appeared very determined. He didn't think she'd react well to losing here in her own Proving to such a lesser noble but fortunately she'd fall from grace the very next day and so if he won then she wouldn't have much time to make him regret it. As it turned out, he didn't need to worry so much about whether he should try to beat her as she defeated him handily. She may very well have been the best he'd ever faced but she was gracious about her victory and even sent him the ceremonial helm her father had commissioned for the winner of the Proving. It was much nicer than the usual Proving prizes since it was in the honor of the darling daughter of their King. She was different than he'd expected, as well, and part of him wished she'd been the sort of vain, stupid, self-absorbed bitch he had long-since pictured her as.
It didn't matter, though. He had a job to do and morality had nothing to do with it. Frandlin had heard that Bhelen managed to come off as harmless and well-meaning himself and he knew that couldn't be further from the truth so in all likelihood she was the same…or so he told himself when she remembered him when she came across him in the Deep Roads and congratulated him on his skills. As he'd expected, there weren't very many of them, just Aunn, her second Gorim, himself, and some scout who was likely also working for Bhelen. The scout clearly wasn't used to dealing with members of the nobility if his appalling lack of manners was any indication but Frandlin figured he'd likely be safe from Aunn's reprisal given just how soon things would fall apart for her.
They encountered some casteless mercenaries, which he'd expected, who had blamed their presence on Trian. Aunn had picked up the signet ring they'd been carrying, had a whispered conference with Gorim, and then grabbed the shield she'd been searching for and headed back to the rendezvous point.
He didn't have to fake his shock at coming across the body of the named heir, however. While he knew that Trian would not live to see the morrow, he had been under the impression that Trian was supposed to be alive and confront Aunn thus forcing her to kill him. Something had changed and he didn't understand why. Was the plan still workable? Would he be blamed for its failure if it wasn't? He nervously chatted with the scout about what could have happened to the prince when Bhelen led the rest of the expedition right to them. Fortunately, Bhelen didn't seem at all perturbed to see his dead brother. Frandlin supposed it didn't really matter whether Aunn had actually been responsible for Trian's death as he was still the only witness who mattered.
By the time someone got around to asking what had happened, the scout immediately spoke up and insisted that Aunn had casually gone up to Trian and appeared perfectly friendly…until she'd stabbed him and ordered them to attack the guards as well. Aunn responded to this allegation, naturally, by casually going up to the scout appearing perfectly friendly…until she'd stabbed him. That was proof enough of her guilt for some of the lords but the King insisted on hearing from him. The scout had been a warrior and his word was not enough to convict a princess. He, however, was a noble with an impeccable reputation for honestly that was now about to be forever tarnished. Eyeing both surviving Aeducan siblings warily, he slowly repeated the scout's lie.
Things moved very quickly after that. Aunn was arrested and dragged through Orzammar in chains, he was called before the Assembly to testify that Aunn had killed Trian, and Bhelen's motion to have her sealed into the Deep Roads passed almost obscenely quickly. Frandlin had been right about Bhelen's strong support, it seemed. He wasn't thrilled with what he had done but at least it was over with now and it was a part of being a noble in Orzammar.
He was half-afraid that Bhelen would have him killed as he was a loose end and one of the only people alive who knew what had really happened, especially as Lord Harrowmont had begun speaking out against Bhelen almost the minute Aunn had been exiled. Luckily, however, Bhelen had decided to keep his word and House Ivo was, for the first time in living memory, actually important. It was…it was pretty wonderful. As Bhelen's right hand man he was expected to perform certain duties and not all of them were pleasant – although he knew Vartag dealt with the worst of it, not that he seemed to mind – but he found that each of these 'favors' was easier to go through with than the last. So things weren't perfect but they were better than they had been and everyone in his House was well aware of what they owed him. His elder brother Wojech had never been so proud. He might never be free of Bhelen and his demands but was that really such a terrible thing?
One day, three weeks after King Endrin died and right in the middle of the succession crisis between Bhelen and Lord Harrowmont, Bhelen's elder sister returned to Orzammar. She was sealed in the Deep Roads, she was supposed to be dead. She had been exiled, she was supposed to be kept out of Orzammar. She was a Grey Warden now, she could come and go as she pleased. Aunn had apparently come to call upon the ancient treaty obliging the King to send aid against a Blight. There was no King, however, and so it was inevitable that Aunn would get involved. Frandlin had no idea how she had escaped the Deep Roads or how she had gotten into the position she was in now but he did know that nothing good could possibly come from encountering the exiled princess now and so, much to Bhelen's displeasure, he made himself scarce for the duration of her time in Orzammar.
That was, he reflected, an incredibly smart move. The details were still unclear even now, months later, but by the time that Aunn was through, Harrowmont was on the throne and Bhelen and every single one of his deshyr allies lay dead on the very floor of the Assembly. The new King and his allies, of course, were quick to speak fondly of what a dear, honorable girl she was although Frandlin wasn't sure if this was more because many of their political enemies (and virtually all of hers) were dead or because they worried that if they didn't then they'd be next.
Once Aunn was gone, Frandlin felt that it was safe to breathe again, at least for a time. With those who had moved to exile Aunn dead at her hand and Harrowmont himself having always held a great deal of affection for her and stood as her greatest defender it didn't seem outside of the realm of possibility that should she survive this Blight she would be returning to them. It would be foolish to hope that she failed in her task as then everyone would die but was it really too much to hope that she could at least die while doing it?
Apparently it was as mere weeks after the news reached Orzammar that the Blight was over, Aunn was back in Orzammar having been reinstated as an Aeducan and, what's more, became the head of the house. She was even being considered for Paragonhood and there were already rumors that Harrowmont would name her as his heir. She wasn't going anywhere.
Frandlin could try to hide again but, unlike last time, that wouldn't be enough to save him. If she was planning on tracking him down then she had the time and the means to do it. He could, he supposed, try to escape to the Surface but he'd meant what he said about preferring death to losing his caste. He didn't want to die but he supposed that he'd known that it would come to this from the minute he'd realized that Aunn was still alive.
It was almost a relief when she finally did show up and stuck a dagger between his ribs.
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