Chapter 2: Memories Not Recorded in the Memories

"Ignorance is the root of all evil... Others say pride is. They are all fools. Evil is only an illusion, a fabricated concept strapped onto 'undesirable' figures when those that would judge them seek an excuse to do so. But if this is true, then why do people become wicked?

Because of their own weakness."

An addendum follows, written in a different hand.

Right. He didn't say any of this either. Who the sod comes up with these things?

"-. .-"

Disdainful of false appearances though he was, Raonar still felt a bit relieved when he and his second finally made it out of Dust Town. The duo proceeded to make haste towards the diamond quarter. Now, all the prince had to do was think of an explanation as to why he disappeared during the day of his celebrations. All he could hope was that he hadn't completely fumbled the entire event, though he didn't care about protocol overmuch and wasn't about to regret his decisions. After a short while, they had once again reached the gates, at which point they took off their cloaks, rejoined their frantic escorts, smoothed things over for everyone affected by the ruckus with just a few words – he was good at that at least – and made for the upper city. The bodyguards, being lower born, didn't dare demand an explanation, or anything else really.

Eventually, they arrived back at the palace where an angry Trian, followed by Bhelen, quickly appeared, eager to reprimand his sibling for going off to ancestors know where. Raonar patiently waited for his elder to say his long, long moralizing speech, topped by insults and grunts, until Trian was finally exhausted from shouting and could do little but wait for Raonar to take his turn at speaking.

"What?" the second son asked with an earnest gaze. "It's not all that late yet. I bet the feast hasn't even started. Or did you actually let the news of my small escapade reach father's ears?"

"Hmpf!" Trian sneered. "You think you're clever, do you? Of course I didn't let this news be known. Even for all your conceit, this day is father's as much as yours. To think you'd actually ruin it for him by pulling off something like this. On any other day I would have..."

"Yes yes!" his sibling cut him off with a prompt, dismissing wave. "I heard you gloat about what you would do about me many times before. I would not at all gladly let you elaborate on all the intricate means you would use to ensure my public humiliation, but I'm afraid that would only delay my arrival at the feast. Then you would have to explain to father how your penchant for lectures ruined the entire event."

Trian stormed off, followed by an obviously amused Bhelen and muttering something about teaching his brother respect. Gorim was glad when the two were gone, as he was finally able to laugh about the whole situation. Raonar, on the other hand, knew that, for all his ego and redundant ambitions, Trian was right. Nevertheless, the second son decided not to dwell on the event and resolved to finally attend the ceremony, though not before making a small stop.

Rica was understandably overjoyed at hearing that her brother was alive and had returned home. She was excited and relieved and obviously eager to be on her way, but she still suspected that the prince had ulterior motives. Raonar looked at her quietly until she was able to restrain her excitement. She didn't know what to say, however, so she just stood there, waiting to see what Raonar would do.

"I feel I must... apologize to you once again," the prince eventually told her. "I may have just traded one of your problems for another. Your brother is a very... curious man. I kept my identity secret, but he suspected enough and has no doubt found out who I was by the time I returned here. So I ask you now, stop him from doing anything rash. If he gets involved in the affairs of nobles, his life won't get any easier."

Rica just listened but seemed to understood something of what the Prince was saying, probably because even having spent only a short time around the nobles' quarter, she had noticed certain things already. The intrigue of the court was no more subtle than how the Carta provided 'protection' sometimes. Pondering for a moment, the prince suddenly unfurled a soft belt than hung off his right wrist. The belt was revealed to be in fact a scarf, weaved out of silver-lined silk with cyan-colored embroidery. Raonar always wore it, and Rica was soon about to learn why.

"This was once my mother's," he cleanly told her. "You should take it. Keep it hidden. Hopefully you'll never have to use it, but if you do inevitably get into trouble, you can go to Lord Harrowmont's estate. Lord Pyral Harrowmont is an honorable man and should be able to keep you, your brother and your mother out of trouble if the need should ever come. He'll recognize this immediately."

"But My Lord..." Rica asked in confusion. "What are you saying? I can't accept th..." She wasn't able to say anything else as the prince immediately turned around and left the room, leaving her to ponder for herself.

By the time Raonar and his second finally got to the throne room, all the guests had already arrived and taken their seats. All that was left was for the new commander to show up and grace them all with his august presence. Despite himself, Raonar felt some excitement as he slowly approached the grand archway that led to the hall. One the one hand, he was concerned that now, at the height of his glory, with his attention spread thin, he was the most vulnerable to some underhanded attack or other. On the other hand, he didn't have any problem with being happy with himself for his achievements. He knew his worth and felt no guilt for acknowledging it. False modesty was just a pretty disguise for a lie in the end. He walked into the chambers where the feast was only then starting to get underway.

Some of the nobles immediately noticed him and nodded in acknowledgement, but most of the others were still waiting for King Endrin to finish sorting out whatever grievances the nobles had brought to his attention. After that, the formal investment of the new Commander would take place. This was fortuitous, the second son reasoned, as it would give him time enough to get a better grasp of who may or may not ask something of him upon his investment. He'd made discrete enquiries in the week leading up to this but it never hurt to keep an eye out. In fact, Lord Ronus Dace was waiting uncharacteristically near the entrance and immediately tried to draw the attention of the guest of honor. Although how Raonar qualified as a guest of honor in his own home was a mystery still unsolved.

Raonar indulged him of course, though he knew he should expect nothing besides some self-serving scheme or other. Lord Dace told him how a vote concerning the status of the 'surface caste' was going to take place in about a week and asked the Prince if he would be willing to speak out in favor of having their rights returned. Raonar, naturally, perceived that the noble's plight was hardly altruistic but didn't really believe it when Ronus 'admitted' he didn't care about the surfacers at all but his wife had a cousin among them. The prince sighed.

"Well, no doubt you hope I would just 'do the right thing' but I'm sure you came prepared with a suitable array of possible compensations for this 'favor' I would be doing you, yes?"

Lord dace laughed. "Straight to business eh?" he begun. "As you know, I like to keep an ear to the stone. I hear things, things that might help you out in your mission tomorrow. Do this for me and I'll tell you what whispers are saying."

The prince already suspected what the 'whispers' were saying but, at the same time, he felt inclined to actually help the surfacers as well, even though Lord Dace was just being a selfish hypocrite. He wasn't just going to play right into his hand, though, especially since there was no way in hell that surfacers were going to get their status restored whether he endorsed the motion or not. May as well see how he could twist it.

"Fine," Raonar bluntly told him. "I'll agree to this, but I'll want specifics, not just 'watch yourself, there is a plot against your life' or some other horribly vague hint." Lord Dace's look grew quite surprised and uncertain as the Prince went on. "As your ear to the stone no doubt kept you informed, plots against my life and honor have been cropping up ever since my mother died, because of one such scheme aimed at my elder brother I might add." The second son's face grew all the more cold as he spoke. "So, I'll agree to this, but you'd better have something good."

"Heh, you certainly seem to have mastered the game, your Highness. Very well, if this is what it will take," lord Dace conceded.

"Good," Raonar continued. "And in exchange, I'll not pry to deeply into just how you got a hold of whatever information you have. It would be dreadful if it was found out that your house was somehow involved in the whole affair, no? Or that the real reason you want my help in this is that money you lost because of the surface expedition you funded ended in disaster. I know you just want House Hemi and Aeducan to pay the surfacers' kin debts."

Raonar went on his way after lord Dace assured him he had nothing against him personally, but the whole deal left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't trust Ronus as far as his toddler self could throw him. He liked Anwer a lot better, which begged the question of whether Anwer was aware of Ronus' transparent attempts at exploiting the king's own son. A staggering amount of cheek, that. Raonar disliked back-handed dealings as much as he disliked the darkspawn that preyed on the lost thaigs. That he actually had a fair bit of talent in it was deeply ironic. He didn't really intend to go through with those threats he levied against Ronus, but the noble didn't know that. And he would if push came to shove. He knew that he had to keep a sharp ear and a strong grasp over these intricacies. Fortunately, a certain odd-looking group of guests caught his eye and the feeling of disgust for politics passed on. Grey Wardens were present at the feast, apparently led by a tall human, tough as stone and grizzled. Or so he looked like. He carried himself with dignity but his eyes and the lines on his brow hinted at a less than easy life. The Prince and Gorim approached him and were immediately greeted with honest delight.

"Greetings, My lord Aeducan!" the man said in an earnest tone. "It is an honor to meet you at last. My name is Duncan, leader of Ferelden's Grey Wardens. Your father has told me much about you. He says you might just be the greatest warrior in all of House Aeducan."

"My father does me great honor," Raonar replied suavely, "but whether I really am all that is still to be decided. We'll see what happens tomorrow."

"Ah, your answer speaks of maturity far beyond your years," Duncan praised. "It is unfortunate that such an attitude is so rare. I actually had more than half a mind to invite you to join our order. We need more Grey Wardens, and quickly."

"Am I to understand that you also intended to gather recruits during your stay here?' Raonar asked.

"Yes," Duncan answered. "In fact, we have been here for about a week. Your father was even kind enough to stage a Proving in our honor, whose winner we would have drafted into our ranks. It is unfortunate that the event fell apart as it did... But I'm sure you don't want me to waste your time with idle gossip."

"You are referring to the incident with the castless that beat down all the fighters in the warrior caste? Yes, a very funny business that," the Prince said without bothering to contain his amusement.

"You certainly don't seem to share the Proving Master's aggravation over the event," Duncan told the new commander, slightly amused himself. "I actually intended to conscript him, but he seemed to disappear after he was apprehended by the guards. It is unfortunate that such talent should be wasted because of politics," the Warden Commander concluded with a resigned sigh.

Raonar let out a gazed up at the man with a half-formed grin.

"Well now," Duncan added with a grin of his own "If I didn't know better, I would say you knew something about this affair that you haven't yet said."

"Well, he didn't really mention anything about the Grey Wardens wanting to conscript him," the Prince cleanly stated.

"I doubt he even knew I had the mind to," Duncan explained, "but what do you mean by 'he didn't say'? Forgive me if I seem a bit skeptical, but it's not exactly likely that you, the Prince, would have run into this very specific castless man on your day of celebration, especially with all the armed escorts that you had following you about."

"Slipping out of the sight of armed escorts in the middle of the crowded marketplace isn't exactly that difficult," Raonar told the Warden. "It doesn't matter how I ran into him, however, but the way he fought... Let's just say I share your opinion that he would indeed strengthen your order."

Duncan stroked his beard and looked at the young dwarf at length. Raonar wondered if he noticed the very few dents in his armor. The way his eyes moved sure seemed to suggest it. The Warden Commander eventually seemed to reach the conclusion that there were no lies in the prince's words and dismissed his suspicions. He chuckled. "Well, perhaps I might leave this grand city with a new recruit after all. It would indeed be quite fortunate."

The second son stayed briefly to give the Warden Commander the directions to Faren's house and was prepared to leave when he caught a glimpse of someone who appeared to look most out of place when compared to all the other 'tall people' present. There, leaning against a column was a man dressed in long, black robes with scarlet embroidery.

He had long, black hair, gathered up in a long ponytail that hung at his back, while half of his right cheek was obscured by a strand that hung in front of it. Next to him was an intricate staff. Raonar took a closer look and spotted a pair of keen, green eyes that almost shone in the shadows cast by his eyebrows. What eventually caught the dwarf's attention, however, were the sharp, pointy ears that the individual had. An elf, then.

Duncan had observed the guest of honor and noticed how intrigued he was. "That man is also part of our group," Duncan told Raonar.

"He's an elf, is he not? And if I'm not mistaken, that's a mage's staff… A Grey Warden mage then?"

"Actually, he has not yet become a full-fledged member as he was only recently recruited. In fact, he has been traveling with us for less than a fortnight. He was originally a mage from the Circle of Magi but we conscripted him after a he got into some... trouble with the Circle itself," Duncam explained.

"Trouble? What sort of trouble?" the Prince asked out of sheer curiosity.

"Hmm, you'll have to forgive me but it is not my place to say. You may ask him yourself, however, though I pray that you do not take offense if he proves to be less amiable than myself. You see, elves are not exactly fond of other races. History has not been particularly kind to them and even now they are being persecuted by humans and considered little better than the casteless in your own city," Duncan told, obviously discontent with that state of affairs. Raonar nodded and walked up to the peculiar individual who didn't seem to notice him at first.

The Prince would not be discouraged, however, and he just stood there with his arms crossed, studying the person's features. He was shorter than the other tall folk, though still noticeably taller than the dwarves which scurried about him. Eventually, the elf turned his gaze towards the one in front of him, revealing that he was, in fact, trying to escape notice and avoid any sort of interaction with the others by acting all meditational.

"I suppose you're not one to take a hint, are you?" The elf bluntly said with just a slight tint of annoyance. "Well, what is it you want? To stare at the lowly elf in the corner perhaps? Surely there are far more interesting ways for an esteemed dwarf such as yourself to spend his afternoon."

His tone was sarcastic and easily irked Gorim. "I would suggest you choose your words more carefully when speaking to his lordship!" the warrior rebuffed him, not even bothering to conceal his anger. "His Highness did not come to his own feast to be insulted by outsiders."

"Ah, the man of the hour is it?" the elf remarked with a smirk. "Well, you'll have to forgive me but I can't really tell dwarves apart from one another all that easily. Though I assume you, with your unusual hair and beard color, at least stand out more than the rest." The young man dropped the pretense then and huffed. "I'm supposed to congratulate you on your naming as Commander I suppose? Well, congratulations milord. Now if you'll excuse me..."

The elf recruit got up and reached for his staff but, by then, Raonar had already walked within reach of it. In a split second, the prince grabbed the weapon and spun it round a few times between the tips of his fingers. After that, he inspected the crystal at the tip.

"Hmm, very nice. A masterfully cut diamond indeed! And the lyrium was woven into it flawlessly as well," the second son remarked, sensing the tingle given off by the enchantment. His Stone Sense may have up and crashed after that brief period when it was implausibly sharp, but it was still good enough for this. Meanwhile, the elf could not help but show his annoyance at the little creature that would not let the pestering stop. Deciding to spare him further aggravation, Raonar simply handed the staff over, bowed slightly and walked away.

He then walked up to the throne just as his father was settling some dispute related to Kal Sharok. Kal Sharok was the capital of the old empire and was thought to have been destroyed by the darkspawn until just a few years ago, when Endrin managed to restore contact. Or so the story went. Needless to say, the dwarves there were angry at having been abandoned to fend for themselves and were not particularly keen on obeying the rule of Orzammar.

And by that he meant that the Kal Sharok dwarves would spare no tears if they heard Orzammar suddenly sunk in the magma pit it was built around.

"Disregard of our ancient traditions does not qualify as a political technicality." The king stated firmly. "The Assembly of Kal Sharok will respect the rule of Orzammar... or they will rot and die alone, surrounded by enemies." Because it wasn't like they had survived just fine on their own for over a thousand years. Really, his father could be so transparent sometimes. "But look!" he added as he noticed his second eldest child approaching "We now have a reason to spare us further wrangling."

Ah, the joys of being exploited for the greater good. "I see the business of ruling is still the same as ever," Raonar begun with a grin, "You should be careful, father. I do believe that you'll get even more wrinkles if you carry on like this."

Endrin laughed at the remark. "Oh, my son! How well you look in your great grandfather's armor! Are you ready to be introduced to your guests?"

"Come now, father," the Prince replied, "You know, of course, that none of these people here are really strangers to me. That said, I think we should move on to the main event. I can tell you're eager to get some rest as well," he added warmly.

"Haha. Practical as ever! But don't underestimate your old man, boy. There's still strength enough in these old bones of mine to bask in my son's achievements." The King stood up. "My lords and ladies and Deshyrs of the assembly! The man of the hour has finally made his appearance. Who would pose a question to the new Commander? Who seeks to know the prospect better?"

Needless to say, Lord Ronus Dace promptly took the word and asked what the new commander's opinion was of the surfacers.

"They are as we are and should have their rights returned," Raonar bluntly answered with not even a shred of hesitation. He didn't do it for any benefits, since the vote was doubtlessly going to fail regardless. This choice was mostly made because of how excessively segregating the entire caste system was in the prince's eyes and he wanted to make no bones about it. He of all people had the reputation to spare. That and the notion that those who leave for the surface 'lose their stone sense' was utterly ridiculous. Lord Dace was quite satisfied and returned to his seat. Raonar wondered if Ronus would be just as satisfied after Raonar worked with his father to slip a clause somewhere that would void the debts Ronus wanted repaid. He already had an idea of how to spin it.

But that was for later. Right then, the King cut right to the matter at hand: the mission that was to take place the following day.

The new Commander was going to lead part of a mission in the deep roads. The overall goal of the campaign was to reestablish contact with some of the more important mines that the city had lost to the Darkspawn during the rule of the previous monarch. In addition to that, the mission would allow Duncan and his Grey Wardens to strike deep into the deep roads and find out whether a Blight was really brewing. Raonar had not yet been told what his father planned for him to do but had learned that Trian and Bhelen would have their own roles to play.

It stunk to him of railroading. He was probably going to have a very fixed itinerary where command skill, talent and self-control would have as low a bearing as possible, due to low odds of unexpected things happening. Raonar himself was somewhat irritated over his father wanting to keep it all as a "surprise" instead of actually telling him what he was supposed to be doing, as would have been the strategically sound thing to do. He supposed Endrin had to have his reasons, but he'd started to question his father's judgment recently. Especially since…

But no, he didn't want to ruin what was left of his day with that. Odds were good something outside his control would do it regardless.

"Now!" Endrin finally shouted, "Drink, feast and celebrate! For tomorrow we battle!"

The nobles readily held a toast for the new army Commander and then went back to enjoying their ale and the roasted steaks, fruit and other things that the palace cooks had prepared in great quantities. As for the prince himself, his father called him over to at least exchange a few words before taking their seats at the table.

"Are you upset that your brothers decided not to attend the feast?" the king asked with an earnest, fatherly tone.

"A little..." Raonar answered, looking over the gathered people. He wondered how much his father could still see through him these days, if he even could anymore. If he could see how old Raonar felt.

Having no more words to exchange, the two took their seats at the main table, with Raonar at his father's right hand. A spot normally reserved for the heir but, as people kept saying, this was his special occasion. Not that it would do anything good to the speculations already running around, Raonar thought sardonically as he piled this and that on his plate. Seeing that his father wasn't doing the same yet, he met his eyes and saw the unvarnished concern. Raonar decided to dispel it, even as he wondered who or what that concern was really for. "I'm not too shocked. I can't expect them to have handled all the things that happened in the past few years the same way I did. If it wasn't expected, I wouldn't spend much time on these farces myself you know." Seeing that Endrin was about to bring up matters Raonar wanted to let lie, he decided to bring up the real reason for Ronus' question and how they might make it so that Aeducan didn't have to pay the debts regardless. Endrin humored him, even though he was as aware as him of the futility of the proposal to restore rights to the surfacers. Besides, it was an interesting exercise that might enable them to close loopholes in future contracts.

As he talked to his father, Raonar was glad that he'd managed to deflect the matter of the strained in-family relations, such a far cry from the hopeful note they'd nearly started back on after that disaster of a military expedition he'd joined (apparently) on a whim, years prior.

His father never did learn exactly how Raonar's hair and beard had gotten that silver-white hue. Well, not beyond 'it may or may not have been owed to some sort of lyrium overexposure I don't recall getting' in Raonar's own words. Which was true. He didn't recall a lyrium overexposure because nothing of the sort ever happened to him. Well, not then anyway. It was all due to something else.

Originally his hair was blonde – if a somewhat more intense shade than his brothers' - and his eyes were dark blue, not the cyan-white that he had now. Like lyrium. Which managed not to look out of place due to the surprisingly fitting contrast they made with his snow-white hair, beard and eyebrows. Even the prince's behavior was different before his mother passed away. Yes, that was what started it all. The Queen had been a strong woman, a resolute monarch and a caring mother, greatly loved by her people, her husband and, of course, her children. Raonar, in particular, liked being around her because she was the only one who didn't discourage his passion for the wonders of the surface world. And because she indulged his strange requests, like getting to watch craftsmen ply their trade for whole days on end when he was younger. Unfortunately, just as Trian had turned 21, she suddenly fell deathly ill and could barely even speak.

This was about four years in the past. Raonar was 18 then, whereas and Bhelen was just weeks away from turning 17 himself. Trian spent his days angrily looking for the source of the poison that had put her into such a state, while Bhelen usually strove to stay out of everyone's way. The king, meanwhile, had to deal with the heightened pressure from the nobles, who saw this as an opportune time to score better dealings from one whom they saw as a distraught ruler. Endrin stood his ground admirably, but his face got an extra line with each passing day as he failed to be there for his wife.

At the time, Raonar was not nearly as popular as later. During the two weeks that his mother spent ill in bed, he mostly stood at her side, nursing her and seemingly incapable of coping with the situation. Endrin did not think particularly well of his second child for doing that. He believed that he should put on a strong face for the sake of House Aeducan as a whole. Raonar didn't care. In fact, as he suffered his father's, and Trian's, repeated preaches, he kept leaving them stunned because of how completely unimpressed he was with their attempts at verbal discipline and the occasional angry outburst.

This, of course, didn't seem to help the overall situation much, but that was only because, as Endrin later realized, none of them actually noticed that the then golden-haired lad had never actually shed a single tear. It wasn't until a couple of years later that the King finally saw what he had failed to see all that time ago: Raonar understood, even sooner than the rest, that the queen would not recover.

And so it was that Queen Errinne, most respected female monarch since Anika, wife of Paragon Aeducan himself, passed away one afternoon with only Raonar by her side. The King was, at the time, forced to attend to the court, while Trian, accompanied by Bhelen, was still trying to find the one responsible for the plot itself. An antidote was never found for the exotic poison, nor was the reason for the queen herself being targeted.

Because she wasn't the one targeted, but none in his family believed Raonar on that one, so he stopped bothering to change their minds.

Raonar still remembered that grim scene when Endrin and his two brothers returned, only to find him leaning against the Queen's room's stone door. He gazed at them as they entered and bluntly informed them that the inevitable had occurred. He remembered that he sounded like a dead man himself, when he said "mother is dead." No emotion at all, not in his voice or on his face as he watched Trian rush inside to see for himself, along with his father and other brother. Predictably, Trian became enraged and swore he would get the bastards that had done that to her, while Endrin fell to his knees and started sobbing, his tears pouring over his wife's lifeless hand, now as cold as the stone she had gone back to. Bhelen stood in a corner, while Raonar simply leaned against the side of the door, looking at how helplessly they moaned and wailed. Endrin momentarily lifted his eyes and looked at Raonar as if at a stranger. He wondered what he'd looked for and failed to see. His exuberance? His youthful enthusiasm? His mother had just finished dying a protracted, agonizing death. Of course he hadn't had room for any of that at the time.

Not that those traits reasserted themselves later. Not really. Fools and their politics. He'd actually said that out loud, as he turned to leave.

After that, the atmosphere in the family became stilted. Didn't help that, as Trian and Endrin conducted investigations into the events, an unseen force begun to act of its own volition inside the palace. Not long after the queen was returned to the Stone, high-ranking nobles from various houses started to turn up dead, curiously from the same poison that had killed Errinne herself. A connection between House Aeducan and the occurrences was never establiched and, indeed, the King and Trian never could uncover just what had happened to all of those lords.

Meanwhile, Raonar spent most of his time in his quarters, doing something that dwarves aren't generally known for: meditating. He only left his room when going to attend the family meals which, needless to say, usually went by without a single word being uttered. Then, one day, Trian could stand the situation no longer and lashed out at his younger brother. Words were spoken in anger, and though Trian did most of the yelling, the two never really said anything kind to each other after that.

Coincidentally, the next day was when a great campaign in the deep roads was scheduled. The King went to see his forces off, accompanied by Trian and Bhelen. Trian had requested that he be allowed to lead the forces, but the King refused, saying he would not risk losing more of his family so soon after his wife left the world. Raonar did not attend and everyone assumed he had just decided to confine himself to his room. This assumption was proven false, however, as they only found, late the next day, an empty chamber and a rolled-up note on the table.

"I have disguised myself as one of the other soldiers and left with the armies into the deep roads. Don't bother sending anyone after me or ordering the forces to return. By now the army will have passed the old underground highways and entered the ancient section just beyond the lava rivers. No messengers or patrols will ever survive those tunnels in small numbers. You know this.

Now before you start drawing any rash conclusions, let me make it clear that I am not going there seeking death. As odd as it might sound, the Deep Roads, as infested with darkspawn and deep stalkers as they are, seem more friendly right now than the Royal Palace. The only thing I regret is that I couldn't persuade that magnificent fool Gorim not to follow me. Even now he's sneaking around the palace entrance, disguised as a common guard and hoping I won't recognize him and send him away.

Perhaps I will return or I will not. We shall see.

/Raonar/

P.S. If Trian is there, tell him to watch his back. The shadows in the Diamond Quarter have grown thicker as of late."

Rather more poetic than he'd intended it. Things had been wearing on his mind badly.

Later, after returning and enduring his family's relief, happiness, anger, remonstration and more relief, Raonar got to know his father's reaction to the note from his own mouth. And Endrin had undergone mixed feelings indeed. A stream of anger, combined with desperation and sorrow, with the only ray of hope being that, at the very least, his son hadn't left all alone. Learning that Trian had, of course, only scoffed at his brother's foolishness and, much to his father's dismay, not exactly get as angry as the king expected was rather depressing, but not altogether shocking. 'If he dies, it'll be his own fault' indeed. Bhelen had stated, openly, that he believed Raonar had finally gone mad and, for once, the others seemed to agree with him. They had all been outplayed, however, for it was exactly as the second son had written: all they could do was wait, and that's exactly what they did for the next three months.

Finally, the army returned from the expedition and, much to the glory of Orzammar, had suffered only minor losses and also successfully completed what it was set out to do, namely rediscover the way to Kal Hirol, long lost refuge of the smith caste. Endrin and his remaining two sons hurried to greet the soldiers but, obviously, were more interested in the fate of their wayward kin. Worst case scenario, Raonar could have just died in a skirmish, without anyone ever recognizing him. What happened next was far from what they had even remotely considered. Or even what Raonar himself had considered really, since he was in mourning at the time.

Again. The second time in the same year.

Since the mission had been a success, it was customary of the king to honor the commanding officer. The one that had been placed in charge was Baizyl Harrowmont, cousin to Endrin's closest advisor, Lord Pyral Harrowmont. He was known as a skilled fighter and honorable man. As such, the entire crowd was surprised when he stepped down and told everyone that another was responsible for the success, as well as the survival of so many.

Raonar still hadn't forgiven him for that, but at least he'd done it with good intentions. Namely, to distract him from his renewed pain by the expedient of personal glory. It even worked, for a short while.

Raonar still remembered the momentary satisfaction of leaving everyone perplexed when he, looking like any other common soldier, approached Baizyl and muttered, as tattletales revealed to his family soon enough, that they had agreed to keep the whole matter a secret. Baizyl retorted saying that his honor demanded that he choose the lesser lie, after which he took off the his helmet himself, leaving everyone on the site astonished, and the royal family staring in disbelief.

The loveable bastard.

It took a while for anyone to recognize him, due to his drastically changed features. Even the Royal Family had trouble deciding what to believe.

At that point, another soldier immediately approached and took the other one's sword and shield, setting them against the stone palisade, after which, to everyone's growing amazement, the white-haired person did the same thing Baizyl had done and removed his helper's helmet. It was only then that the king received the confirmation: Gorim was the white-haired young man's attendant, which meant that Raonar had returned. Endrin could not speak, however, as his did not yet know what to think

The returning prince then stepped up and earnestly smiled at his audience, though he immediately gave them all a scolding look. His speech had been made up on the spot, but it had been pretty good, in his humble opinion.

"The honorable warrior Baizyl exaggerates, I'm afraid. I'm just a rash young man who ran away from home a few months ago and disguised himself as a soldier when this fine army left for its mission. There I spent my time looking at how grey the stone was, how interesting the cracks in the rocks looked and rushing on ahead of the main force repeatedly, though I always managed not to get myself killed somehow. The ancestors are just funny like that I guess..." Raonar's playful honesty hadn't been at all faked, and crowd exploded in a rain of laughter never before seen. Ever since the empire fell to the darkspawn, the general populace had rarely even come close to laughing to their hearts' content in such a manner. He was glad to be able to enable it, even if just that once. Help drive all the worries and fears from everyone's hearts with just a few words.

"What are you doing?" Baizyl had asked uncomfortably under his breath. "Tell them the truth already!"

Raonar acted a bit confused but retorted in a voice clear enough for everyone to hear. "What do you mean? Technically, what I said was the truth. What do you want me to do? Gloat in front of these people like some glory-hungry fool that's had too much to drink?"

The laughter of the crowd grew even more enthusiastic and even the soldiers started to chuckle at each other, breaking ranks and relaxing even though it was customary for the main force to stay still and straight while the king was present. Fortunately, the general revelry did not last forever and, finally, the people had calmed enough to listen to the one supposedly in charge of the expedition.

"What this somewhat too playful young man means is that he kept his identity secret in order to more easily fulfill his assignments and acted as a one-man-army-scout. Most often he went ahead of the main force, accompanied by his valiant companion and either collapsed weakened tunnels over deep stalker nests or set traps for unwary pockets of darkspawn. And when he was not out doing that, he usually came up with unorthodox tactics that ended up in us making short work of any attacking beasts and starting our evening ale-drinking rituals all the sooner." Baizyl explained without any hint of sarcasm or hesitation.

Bayzil had really overdone it, that speech, since what he related only happened a few times, and only after the near-disaster and the mess that left him changed, and with a ludicrously wide-reaching and discerning Stone Sense to help him cheat his way to success. Something that didn't last the year, sadly, as it was something that Raonar later lost along with a few other things more important than pretty much anything else… but he didn't want to think about that.

"Now hear me people," Baizyl then shouted. "For it seems to me an insult not to recognize one whom you have seen much of in the past. This man is Lord Raonar Aeducan, Prince of Orzammar and second eldest son of our respected King Endrin."

The many men and women gathered there suddenly gasped and started to fret in disbelief. Everyone, by then, had assumed him dead. Whatever doubts they had were dispersed, however, as the King approached his son, now apparently metamorphosized into something more than what he was when he left. As he drew near, however, it became clear that King didn't exactly know what to do. Only Raonar, Gorim, Baizyl and those close enough to them actually noticed the tears welling up in Endrin's eyes as he tried to restrain himself from hugging his brash son in front of the entire city. The latter, however, was not nearly as undecided.

"Hey..." he begun, "Don't be taken aback that much. Honestly, you look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Oh, you completely insane fool!" Endrin burst as his eyes finally overflowed and he embraced his beloved but arguably insane child. "Protocol be damned", he muttered low enough that Raonar almost didn't hear him and held him tight until he finally calmed down. After that, his brothers followed up with their own greetings, just as predictable as their father's.

"Well, you don't seem any worse for wear," Bhelen joked. The next second, Trian stepped up and smacked his brother on the back of the head, though Raonar only smirked back as he noticed that, for all his attempts at playing the tough one, Trian was just as relieved to see Raonar back as his father was.

"Nice to see you again too, big brother," Raonar said with a grin.

"Hmpf," his elder grunted, unable to completely restrain his smile in time.

Raonar shook himself as he blinked away the recollection. He stared at the bronto rib for a long moment. That… that had been his worst and most detailed flashback yet, and he didn't have the excuse of overactive Stone Sense this time. Not since that incident with lyrium turned red, back when he still bothered putting his thoughts on paper. Literally.

Fortunately, it hadn't taken long enough to draw the attention of anyone other than his father, so Raonar finished eating, had a long drink of Chasind Sack Mead – an acquired taste, to be sure – and took his leave according to all the rules of etiquette that were expected. Only those though, none of the extras.

Gorim joined him as soon as he was out the door. Next stop: the kitchen so that the warrior could have something to eat as well. Raonar would no doubt have to eat something himself, just so he could insist on Gorim joining him. His second was stubborn in not being a bother like that.

Afterwards, he'd make one last appearance at the feast, as was expected, during which he'd have to touch base with Ronus Dace. After that he'd go see why neither of his brothers attended the feast, especially after the noise Trian made about it all day. The last confrontation between he and him probably acted as a catalyst for that absence, but still, he wanted to talk to them. Even if only because it would be suspicious if he didn't go asking about it.

Stone, it felt like he was the only one trying to hold that family together. He only wished that feeling didn't have a basis in reality, but he knew better.