A/N: Greetings! This story is a continuation of the one presented in Viscountess Amell. If you are a new reader to this universe you might want to read Long Live the Viscountess in my Grim Tales and that one first, just to catch up. I of course do not own Dragon Age, Bioware is just nice enough to let us all play in its sandbox. So without further ado, allow me to present the next chapter in Viscountess Amell's story.
The Scythe, the Ox, and the Jackal
Chapter 1: Son or Daughter
Mid-Summer, 9:33 Dragon Age
The two women made their way down the corridors of the Viscount's Keep in Kirkwall, the various guards and servants bowed to them as they passed by, both of them acknowledging these shows of respect with gentle nods.
The two women, both noble born, but from separate generations, but no one would doubt the regal air that they both carried themselves with. The elder of the pair was gray-haired, her face lined gently with a youth of difficulty and hardship. She had been born to wealth but had chosen a more common existence, choosing love over duty.
It was a choice she would have made again in a heartbeat.
The older woman had only recently grown used to living in luxury again. Living as a commoner had given her a unique perspective on the noble games of Kirkwall, her blue eyes were kind, but also marked with sadness.
Hers was a face that reflected much of the recent troubles in the city of chains.
Her companion was younger, and far more regal than the elder lady before her. Tall and slender with white blond hair, this one radiated both power and grace. She was clad in the drab black and gray robes of state, the black crown of Kirkwall rested on her brow. As the reigning Viscountess of Kirkwall it was her job to protect her home from danger. She had succeeded but at a heavy cost, both to herself and her home. Her blue eyes, so much like that of her companion had seen much in the past year. Events that had cost her much of her innocence and naiveté, not to mention loved ones.
The Amell family was much like the city they ruled, they had suffered and been battered from both outside and within, and yet they endured.
Amells always endured.
It was a time of trouble in Kirkwall, their enemies circled like carrion birds, while within nobles, Qunari, mages, and Templars played their power games.
But even in this time of darkness, there was hope for the future, and joy at the coming of new life.
The Viscountess was the clearest example of this, all one had to do was look down upon her slowly expanding belly and see that hope.
She quite literally carried the future of her family within her now…
…The next ruler of Kirkwall.
The two women made their way to the throne room; they paused as the guards opened the doors and allowed them to pass. The Viscountess glanced up at the dais where she had conducted so much business since her reign began almost seven years earlier; she had lost the throne recently, but had through hard fought battle won it back.
She had won that battle, but now it was time to win the peace.
That might prove far more difficult.
The older woman regarded her younger counterpart with a knowing smile, having mothered three children herself, she knew what the poor girl was going through, and it was a hard thing, becoming a mother for the first time.
Yet she was certain the girl was up to the challenge.
"You will stand there in a few months," the older woman began, "It is there that you will greet the royal court yet again, but this time will be different, this time you shall present your first child to them."
She smiled gently.
"All of Kirkwall will turn out to see the little prince."
"Or Princess, Cousin Leandra," the Viscountess said quietly.
Leandra Hawke smiled.
"Or Princess, Lona dear," she agreed.
Solona Amell, the Viscountess Amell, the Lioness of Kirkwall smiled.
That would be one meeting of the royal court that she would be more than happy to attend.
The two women cut through the throne room and made their way back up towards the royal apartments, where House Amell maintained their living quarters.
There was so few of them now. Solona herself, her husband Sebastian, Cousin Leandra, Leandra's daughter Bethany, though she was currently out of the city, and of course Bethany's infant son Carver, heir to the noble House of Bradley. Garrett Hawke, Leandra's other son had taken up refuge within the old Amell family estate in Hightown. He saw himself more of his own man, rather than a member of House Amell.
Of course, there was one other Amell still living in the keep, but he was no longer welcome among them.
The dungeons were now his home.
Leandra smiled at the Viscountess, trying to shake her from the melancholy that kept threatening to overwhelm her these past few months.
"Have you and Sebastian discussed names yet?" Leandra asked.
"A few," the Viscountess smiled, "Sebastian does not want to admit it, but…I think he is hoping that we have a son, someone he can teach to ride and shoot arrows with."
Leandra smiled at the girl.
"He can do that with a little girl as well."
""True, but I still think he would like a son. He would still love a daughter but…"
Leandra nodded, she knew what husbands were like sometimes. Her beloved Malcolm, Maker rest his soul, had been ecstatic when little Garrett had been born.
"And what does the young Mother want?"
Solona considered that. She had often wondered what her first child would be like. A boy or a girl, a warrior, a diplomat, a rogue, perhaps a combination of all of those, or something entirely different, did it really matter as long as their baby was strong and healthy?
No it did not matter, but…
…but…
There was one thing that Solona Amell did pray for. Something that she hoped that her child would avoid, a pain that she would not wish on the little life growing inside of her, her greatest fear given form.
The Amell family curse, the curse she herself had been born with…
Magic.
The Viscountess was not ashamed of being a mage, far from it, but…being one meant that she could not reveal herself to be. Chantry law was quite clear on this matter. Magic was to serve and never to rule.
Her very existence, her ruling Kirkwall, was an affront against the chantry. If the Templars discovered her, she would be punished severely; Kirkwall's Knight-Commander Meredith would see the Amell family's power smashed. It members killed or arrested.
She had hidden what she was for so long, lived with the fear that her very existence would doom their whole family.
She would not see her child forced to deal with that. If her child had magic, she would do her best to teach patience and discretion.
But she prayed that that day would never come.
House Amell deserved better. Her child deserved better.
Solona put on her bravest face for her cousin. Leandra did not know her secret, she would have understood, but it was better that she not know.
It was safer.
"Boy or girl," the Viscountess said, "My child will have a proud and happy Mother. A girl would be nice, but a boy…a boy would settle the nobility down."
Solona sighed.
"Kirkwall needs that right now."
Leandra nodded, but expression turned sad.
"It would be nice to have boy in the Keep again."
The comment stopped Solona cold, her eyes hardened slightly.
It was not what was said, but what was implied.
She faced Leandra, her manner becoming that of the ruler she was.
"Is that a rebuke cousin?" she asked with a brittle voice.
Some might have been cowed by the chill that had settled over the Viscountess, but Leandra Hawke was not one of those.
She was strong, perhaps too strong for her own good sometimes.
"It is a regret Cousin Lona," she said firmly, "Nothing more."
The two women regarded each other coolly for a few minutes before continuing on.
Solona sighed heavily.
"You have been visiting with him again," she murmured.
Leandra nodded, she did not see the point in lying.
"Please do not order me to stop," the older woman said, "I will obey if you do, but I beg you…please do not make me."
Solona's hands curled into angry fists.
"He is not worthy of your care or affection Leandra."
Leandra gave her a pained look.
"He is still your brother," she said, "He is still Daylen."
"He may be my brother," the Viscountess said, "But he is not Daylen…not anymore."
The young ruler shivered.
"He is Death's Hand now, cousin," Solona said coldly, "Never forget that."
She knew that she never would.
IOI
Daylen Amell, her dear little brother, seventeen years old, but already a capable warrior and cunning tactician. He had served as her right hand since he was sixteen. As the Hand of the Viscountess and the Viceroy of the Alienage of Kirkwall Daylen had done a lot of good, he had aided the elves of Kirkwall, made the Alienage here something to be proud of. His methods as her Hand had been a bit draconian at times, but his zeal in defending their home was never seen as a vice.
The Viscountess winced.
That had been a mistake on her part, her love for her brother had blinded her to his less than noble attributes.
Daylen, along with his lovers Angelique Poole and Neria Surana had conducted a silent war against her here in Kirkwall. Their schemes had been both subtle and cruel. Daylen had built up his powerbase slowly, while the elf Neria, a disguised blood mage had attacked Solona with her foul sorceries. The three of them had tried to not only make her barren, but to drive her insane as well, all as a precursor to the Lord Hand seizing the throne for himself.
Her brother's schemes had caused much pain, but one of his victims had fought back. Lord Marlowe Dumar, who had lost his son to one of Daylen's schemes, lured her brother into a trap.
Once there, Lord Dumar had had Daylen's right hand cut off, it was punishment for the death of his son.
Daylen had survived that loss, but refused to accept it. He turned to his elven mistress and her blood magic to restore his hand to him. The result had been a horrific blending of human and demonic power.
Daylen now possessed the clawed hand of a shade, one of the lesser demons of the fade. The Viscountess was not certain if it influenced him more than he realized but the results of Daylen's plans were clear.
Those events had also led to Daylen taking a new name for himself, one that had been used originally to insult him, a bastardization of his title as her hand. A name meant to inspire fear in his enemies…
Death's Hand
He was now Death's Hand, and as Death's Hand he had doubled his efforts to unseat her, and in the process cost them both the one that had brought them both into this world.
Their mother, the Lady Revka Amell, had been slain thanks to her brother's schemes, slain by Solona's own magic; the guilt of that still haunted her. Solona had fled into exile, and Daylen had taken the throne for himself, but even that was not enough. He became more and more paranoid; seeking to protect what he thought was his destiny.
He took steps, not just against his enemies but his own family as well, cruel steps, brutal steps.
He sought to ensure that she never return to challenge him. He even went so far as to send assassins to kill her husband, and imprison Garrett and his friends, but even that was not enough for Death's Hand.
In his desire to possess an enforcer worthy of him, Daylen had kidnapped Bethany's husband Perrin, and twisted him to his purposes through blood magic, replacing all that was good in the young warrior with his own cruel ambitions.
In short, Daylen had turned one of his own family into a monster!
Solona unable to tolerate such behavior had fled to Starkhaven and her husband's family, along with a company of freed Tevinter slaves they had defeated Death's Hand, and reclaimed her throne, but all at a heavy price.
Solona's mentor and friend Alec Meradius had been killed, along with both Perrin Bradley, and Daylen's wife Angelique, along with her unborn child, Solona's niece or nephew.
She and Daylen had clashed here in this very keep. They both had nearly died during that battle, but she had emerged victorious.
Now, she spent her time trying to repair the damage her brother had done.
It was not an easy job.
IOI
"I wish you would not call him that," Leandra said.
"It is who he is cousin; it is who he wants to be."
"He is sick Lona. He needs our help."
The Viscountess shook her head.
"Your compassion is commendable cousin," she said, "But don't let it blind you. Deat…Daylen is not the boy you met when you came here, if he ever was. He is a danger to everyone he touches."
"It wasn't his fault," Leandra said, "It was that girl and her elf, whispering poison in his ear, promising things beyond what he deserved. Maybe with them gone, maybe…maybe he will get better."
"I'm not denying their involvement," Solona sighed, "But Daylen still went along with their plans. He is still responsible for at least some of those actions. He is not an innocent victim in all this. What he did was treason."
"I…I'm not denying that, but…Daylen…he…"
Leandra almost sobbed.
Solona gave her an understanding look.
"He...he often came to me for advice. If…if only I had seen something. If I had heard something…"
The older woman sobbed.
"Maybe we could have prevented all of this."
Solona place her hand on Leandra's shoulder. She offered her a handkerchief.
The older woman took it and wiped her eyes.
"This wasn't your fault Leandra," Solona said, "You should not think that it was, and at the same time, you should not be fooled by Daylen either. I heard you say many times that he reminded you a bit of Carver."
The older woman nodded. Carver Hawke, Bethany's twin, who had been killed by an ogre during the Blight.
His death had hit the older woman hard, and Daylen had played on that.
"Daylen is not Carver, he is not your son, nor is he simply a young boy trying to prove himself" Solona said flatly, "He is dangerous and ruthless. I still bear the scars of our battle in the keep. If you are not careful he is going to end up hurting you."
"Daylen would never hurt me," Leandra replied.
"Daylen wouldn't, but Death's Hand might, not right now, perhaps," Solona cautioned, "But if it allowed him to regain power, do not think that he would hesitate to harm you, or Garrett, Bethany, or me."
Leandra dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief.
"There must be some way to help him,' she murmured.
Solona almost rolled her eyes. Yet, part of her still thought as Leandra did.
She still loved her brother; she still wanted to believe that he could be saved.
She could forgive Daylen if he tried to recover, she could not forget, but she could forgive him.
She had offered to let him go into exile, to live quietly, he would never be allowed to return to Kirkwall, but if he produced any children they would be. It would allow him to do his duty to his family without risking his betrayal again. Provided he help them bring the rest of his conspirators to justice. She could not risk sending him away while they were still out there. Neria Surana still led forces in Daylen's name, not to mention the fact that several other nobles, emboldened by his success had also split away from Kirkwall and were fighting her forces for control.
She could not risk her little brother unifying those forces against her, so in the dungeon he would stay.
It was just another problem, one of many.
Kirkwall was not in a very good state now thanks to Death's Hand. The War of Lions, as the fight between them was now being called had weakened the city. A city filled with even more enemies.
The people were still unsure of her; Daylen had done everything to convince them that she was mad and unworthy of the throne. It had created a dissident movement against her, a group that was demanding her removal from the throne. That movement was disorganized now, but slowly gaining in strength.
She would have to deal with that soon.
The coterie and other criminal groups would not hesitate to take advantage of her weakness.
She would have to deal with them soon.
While at the same time the Qunari continued to wait on the docks, watching Kirkwall while they carried out their own agenda. She knew a little about that thanks to a friend among them, but even she had fallen silent of late.
Quiet Qunari were dangerous Qunari.
She would have to deal with them soon too.
Add into the conflict that Knight-Commander Meredith of the Templars and First Enchanter Orsino of the circle were always at each other throats that the tension between Templar and mage was growing with each passing year and she had come to realize that she had yet another problem on her hands.
Add into that Garrett's friend Anders, a mage, and known member of the mage underground knew her secret, and it was yet another wild card placed into the deck.
So many enemies, so little time!
Death's Hand, the Qunari, Meredith, and Orsino, they all had their own ambitions and agendas. Kirkwall had become a storm, and she was sitting at its center trying to calm everything down, before it blew up in their faces.
She tried not to think about that now, those problems would all have to be dealt with, but for now she needed to focus on one thing at a time.
Calming Leandra was the first.
"I will do what I can for Daylen," she promised, "Our elder brother Marius is coming to visit, perhaps he can talk some sense into my brother, remind him of who he is."
Leandra gave her a hopeful smile.
"Is Lord Aedan coming as well?"
Solona smiled slightly.
Aedan Cousland was more than just a hero; he was one of her best friends.
To be honest, she could use his advice right now.
"I'm not certain," the Viscountess replied, "The Hero of Ferelden's a busy man, regardless we need to put our best foot forward yes?"
Leandra nodded, that would be for the best.
Seeing her cousin cheered settled Solona's mind slightly.
The Amells had many problems on the horizon to deal with, but she was not daunted.
Amells did not quit, they fought on.
Amells endured.