Viscountess Amell: Blood and Power
Chapter 1: No Rest
I killed the stupid old fool! I killed the stupid old fool!
Solona Amell, the Viscountess of Kirkwall shook her head. The childish taunt rang in her ears, and haunted her rest. She tried to summon more light to push back the shadows, but all that did was make things appear even darker, more foreboding.
She was a willowy young woman, slender and strong. Her blond hair had gone true white long ago, the result of the stress of ruling her city, and perhaps the magic that burned so brightly inside her. Her large blue eyes were narrowed with concentration as she scanned the hallway, searching always searching.
This is not right, a tiny voice in the back of her head murmured, you have already faced this challenge and won, why do you…?
I killed the stupid old fool! I killed the stupid old fool!
She winced painfully, her hand going to several long scars gracing her shoulder. Scars that she had received the last time she had heard the words that now echoed like a chant through her mind.
They were the words of a tyrant. They were the words of a madman!
She whimpered softly.
They were…the words of her brother, her own little brother.
He had said them to her as he ran away, just after he had murdered her master, a man who had been like a father to her.
He murdered him, murdered him, and then…
He had laughed.
Laughed.
He betrayed me, she thought.
He had always betrayed me.
Daylen Amell's face dance before her mind, she saw him as the scared little boy that had welcomed her to the keep almost ten years ago, and then saw him as the man who had taunted her with those cruel words on that horrible dark night.
Daylen, also known as Lord Death's Hand, Death's Hand the Deranged to several clever storytellers.
She might have tried to dispute it if she had not believed it.
Now, he was here, she realized, somewhere in this very keep.
She needed to stop him.
She would stop him!
She made her way down the darkened hallway; the air in the Viscount's keep seemed heavy, like the humid air before some great storm. Thunder rumbling in the distance, whether it was from a natural storm, or produced by magic she could not say, or perhaps it was the fire of a Qunari dreadnaught, she had heard those powerful canons once, the shots they had fired causing explosions deep into her city, fire that had even spread to the Viscount's Keep in faraway Hightown.
She gripped her fingers tightly around her staff. Thunder did not matter now, now she had another purpose, another goal. She needed to save her city….
Even though she feared that it might already be lost.
Her eyes went up to the portraits on the wall, the faces of past Viscounts and Viscountess, all of them had been profaned, five long slashes ripped across them all. It might have been a trick of the light but she thought those long dead faces were watching her, whispering in the darkness, pronouncing her a failure.
She had let this happen. Daylen had risen to power and she had helped him, let him take more and more power for himself, even as he plotted against her, and hurt their family.
She had let this happen.
It was all her fault.
Now… she needed to fix it.
I killed the stupid old fool! I killed the stupid old fool!
She growled in frustration.
"Enough of these games, Brother!" she shouted, "Are you scared of me, Daylen?! Are you afraid of a little girl?!"
Thunder boomed outside the keep.
She glanced out the window, her eyes drawn by the light.
What she saw there, made her gasp in horror.
Kirkwall, the City of Chains, her city, was gone!
Flaming rubble was all that remained of mighty Hightown, even from here she could that the streets were littered with corpses, blood ran through the gutters like rivers. The distant docks and Lowtown had also vanished, swept away and flooded, they had vanished beneath the waters of Kirkwall harbor, and in the distance even from here, she could see the Gallows, or at least she should have been able to see it.
The Gallows, the prison of old, the Circle of Magi here in Kirkwall was gone; all that remained was shadow, a crater gaping wide. The yellow green light of the sky above illuminated the destruction, even as the black city drifted serenely by in the distance.
Solona blinked.
If…if she could see the Black City? If it was here then…?
The sound of rushing boot steps caused her to spin around!
Death's Hand was there, he was laughing madly, cackling like some abomination from the blackest pit!
He threw down his sword and rushed her, laughing and snarling at the same time.
She brought up her staff to defend herself.
She did not make it.
Death's Hand was not the little boy who had greeted her all those years ago; he had grown into a strong young man, the kind of man her mother would have been pleased to see. His mind however was another matter; it had been twisted by ambition and hatred for those that had loved him. The demonic claw that had replaced his right hand had only been a symbol of what he had become.
Daylen Amell had stopped being a person long ago.
What faced her now was a monster.
He slammed into her, hard. The two of them crashed through a window, just as they had done that day long ago, the day she had won back her throne from him, the two of them rolled out the window, they tumbled down the side of the keep, only one of the many bronze statues there halted their fall, halted their trip into death.
The statue gave way beneath them, Solona shrieked as she reached out for a ledge, groping and clawing for anything…
…Anything to save her from the long fall below.
Daylen was next to her, barely hanging on himself, just as he had been on the day that it had happened. He giggled as his claws ripped away at the stone supporting them, the masonry cracking each time he dug his fingers against it.
"Stop it!" she gasped, "You will kill us both!"
He did not reply, not with words anyway.
He slashed viciously at her hands, his claws cutting away her flesh.
Solona Amell, the Viscountess of Kirkwall fell into the ruined darkness.
She shrieked as she fell, spinning into the void, and still Daylen's taunted words haunted her.
I killed the stupid old fool! I killed the stupid old fool!
The world spun away.
He was still laughing at her.
I killed the stupid old fool! I killed the stupid old fool!
"NOOOOOOO!"
IOI
"No!"
Solona gasped as she bolted upright in bed, her head still spun with vertigo from the fall, dizziness swept through her.
The small hearth of her bedroom blazed brighter, the magic in her blood responding to her panic, likely every candle, torch and lamp in the Keep did the same. The flames responded to her magic, such was the height of her fear.
"Lona?"
She felt strong hands on her shoulders, strong and firm, for a moment she feared that Death's Hand was here, that he had followed her out of the fade, to finish what he had started.
"Lona, it is okay!" the voice said in a familiar Starkhaven brogue, "You were dreaming, love, you were dreaming."
The words gave her pause.
Dreaming, the Black City in the distance, the green-yellow light of the fade, yes.
She swallowed hard, willing her heart to slow her mind to focus.
She took a deep breath.
It had been a dream…
…just…a dream.
She felt strong arms wrap around her, pulling her close to his bare chest, slowly, the shivers stopped, the beating of his heart soothed her troubled mind, reminded her where she was.
She sighed heavily, taking comfort from the feel of those arms, the scent of clean male skin, and the gentle tickle of chest hair upon her face.
He ran his fingers down her back, the gentle caress sending ripples of pleasure through her body, calming her mind.
"Sebastian," she murmured warmly.
She felt his lips upon her forehead.
"I'm here love," her lord husband cooed softly.
I'm here.
IOI
Slowly and gently, Sebastian lowered her back into their bed, letting her head rest fully on his chest. He continued to sooth her, one arm around her shoulder, his hand going down gently stroking her back, with the other her stroked her ear, simple caresses that made all the difference it seemed, causing her to melt, causing her to drift back into a more relaxed state.
Solona sighed contently, it was a sound that Sebastian Vale had come to welcome, his wife had been so troubled these last few weeks.
His eyes drifted over her body, the sight still awoke feelings of lust within him. His beautiful wife, the mother of his two children still held great power over him, power that had nothing to do with her magic. They had been married almost three years now, and yet he still had times where he expected to wake up and find it all a dream. As the third son of the Prince of Starkhaven, he had never expected to wear any crown himself, which was likely a good thing because he had certainly not been worthy of one. He had come to Kirkwall a disgrace to his family, a troubled spoiled boy who brought nothing but trouble in his wake. His family had expected him to join the chantry, but his attraction to Lona and the death of his parents and brothers had changed all that.
He wondered what his parents would have said had they lived. Would they have been proud of him? Would they have embraced their two grandchildren with love and open arms?
It was sad, but it was clear that he would never know.
He had hoped that married life would give them stability, something both they, and the city she ruled, deserved, that had not happened.
Thanks to her enemies, all they had found was war, and death.
He frowned.
"The same dream," he inquired.
She nodded.
He felt a brief flash of anger.
It had been the same dream since Solona had returned from the peace conference in Tantervale. Her brother's surrender should have brought peace. He was currently locked in the tower under heavy guard. He had promised to aid them in stopping his former allies, he had offered them a chance for Kirkwall to heal, but instead his wife found herself a victim of new attacks, not all of them physical.
Sebastian shook his head.
He could not help but wonder just how much her little brother knew about what was going on? He had played the innocent before, and it had nearly resulted not only in his own death, but the death of his wife as well.
Was Daylen behind what was happening, it did not seem so, but looks could be deceiving, and even if he wasn't House Amell had no shortage of enemies.
He sighed heavily.
So much for them trying to bring about a new age of peace, chaos still reigned, even though the armies had stopped clashing. The war was over, but chaos continued to reign.
Solona's life, their lives had been in chaos for so long, first the rebellion of Solona's brother, then the Qunari, and finally the possibility of the chantry challenging her right to rule. Sebastian knew chantry law as well as anyone. Magic was to serve man and not rule over him. Technically, Solona's rule was against that commandment, yet she had done everything to show the chantry that she was not a threat. That they had nothing to fear of her rule, Justinia V the new Divine in Val Royeaux seemed to be on the verge of accepting that.
Others were not so accepting; they continued to challenge his wife, denying her peace, and the rest she deserved.
He gently kissed her forehead, making her sigh happily.
The simple act brought a smile to his face.
She deserved a moment's peace, and if he could provide it for her, he was more than willing to do so.
It was a small victory, bringing his wife from the darkness of her dreams, but it was only a victory in a single battle.
The Lord Consort sighed.
The war was still going on.
It had been several weeks since Solona had taken the Harrowing, several weeks since the focus hidden in her training room had almost brought a pride demon into the keep. Solona had her guard investigating who might have smuggled such an object into the keep in the first place, but so far, nothing had come of the investigation.
Few people had access to that room, a few family members, and the Templars of course trusted to watch over the Viscountess. Solona trusted her family; she did not think any of them could have been responsible, which left only one possible culprit, even though Sebastian prayed that the she was wrong.
The focus was an amulet from the Circle of Magi, used by spirit mediums to conjure up spirits; such items were strictly regulated by the chantry, so it was unlikely that an outsider could have gained position of one. Not impossible mind you, just difficult.
Solona had not said the name of the culprits, even though he saw the answer on her face as clear as day.
He did not want to believe it; the Templar Order had defended Thedas against the dangers of magic for ages now.
He could not believe that Knight-Commander Meredith would risk the Templar order just to settle a feud with his wife. Such and act would certainly mean the woman's dismissal, at the very least it meant that she would have to defend herself before the Seekers of Truth.
He had not met single Templar that wished that, the seekers would get to the bottom of this, if that is what it came to.
AT least he hoped they would.
"Sebastian," he heard her murmur.
He raised her head gently by the chin.
"Yes, Love?"
"Try not to be angry," she advised, "We have a big day tomorrow, not just the meeting with the nobles but the last of the wedding plans."
She smiled slightly.
"We should at least try not to disappoint Garrett and Aveline."
Sebastian sighed.
"The wedding between Garrett Hawke and Aveline Vallen had grown into something of a social event. It was to take place a week from tomorrow, but already dignitaries were arriving. All seemed eager to wish the Champion of Kirkwall well in his impending nuptials.
Hopefully, everything would go smoothly until then.
He sighed heavily.
"I will try love," he said, "In the meantime; you should try to get some rest as well."
He smiled fondly at her.
"It would not do for the Viscountess of Kirkwall to fall asleep in the middle of greeting so many important nobles."
His wife chuckled.
"I doubt anyone would really notice, an even if they did, they would likely just sidle up next to me, propping me up just so, so that their fellows could see they had the favor of the Viscountess, awake or not."
"Possibly," he said with an amused smile, "Still you should try to get a bit more sleep, for yourself if no one else.
"I can't sleep," she said softly.
"Then maybe I can be of assistance," he offered, a hint of a sly smile playing across his lips.
His wife sighed.
"I would do anything at this point," she said, "Anything to…to…Sebastian…what…what are you…you…ooh!"
Her husband gave her a wicked smile; it was not often that he let out the rogue he had once been, that he use the skills he had learned during his misspent youth.
Her with Lona, here in their bedroom, it was acceptable…even enjoyable.
He could feel her moving against him, responding to his hands firm but guiding touch.
"Husband," she growled in a husky voice, her blue eyes darkening with desire.
"Ohhh, husband!"
He kissed her deeply; she began to submit, letting him turn her, allowing him to guide her onto her back.
He rose from their bed, slowly moving on top of her.
Lona groaned in sweet anticipation.
Sebastian Vale smiled.
They were still surrounded by enemies, but at least now, at this moment.
He would be able to give her pleasure, and through pleasure, a moments peace.
IOI
As the thirty fifth year of the dragon age continued, this moment would be one of the last moments of peace that the Viscountess and her husband enjoyed. Already the storm clouds were beginning to gather. Evil was stirring outside of Kirkwall, and from within.
Something was coming, Solona Amell no doubt knew that, but she was powerless to stop him.
History was coming for the city of chains, and none would escape its path.
The storm was coming, and everyone would soon be swept up in its wake.
Every one.
A/N: Well, here is the first chapter of my next Viscountess story, hope you all like it. Lot of things coming very soon and not everyone is going to survive, until next time good readers.
DG