Disclaimer: I don't own Wheel of Time. So….we cool?
Merit Somnia: Thank you, I hope you enjoy it. So far I have 1 and a half more chapters written out, this would probably be the best as the one after the next is coming a bit weak. It may take much longer to update next time….but then again it could be quick again.
And dammit, if I don't get some more reviews from people then I'm quitting this fic. There's no point if you won't read it and review.
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Davian Aenmal was a cultured man to say the least. His long black velvet coat was unembroidered, yet that seemed to make it all the finer. His loose silk undergarments and loafers matched the coat, only enhancing his appearance. Though you would think he looked a dark and imposing figure, when he smiled all worry went away. He had a large heart and a generous wallet to all. Much of his social time was spent in the company of commoners rather than nobles. For all that, he truly valued his sparse moments spent alone in the privacy of his home. Yet it was neither solitude nor the lowborn for him today. For today he had an appointment with the king.
Davian had been close to the ruler of Darmovan since he was a boy. The mighty house of Aenmal had been close to the royal family since before the Trolloc Wars, before there was a royal family. The custom was to have the eldest of house Aenmal serve as an advisor to the King, the two would grow up together from childhood, developing a bond. Yet through the generations the house of Aenmal slowly grew younger than the king through later marriages and pregnancies. It developed to an older-younger brother relationship, but with Davian the line of advisors broke.
His mother had been infertile, and as the future King grew older she still did not conceive. But almost as if a miracle she became pregnant. Nine months later he was born, but by then the future King was already fifteen, a man grown. Yet the two had a sort of Uncle/Favorite Nephew relationship. It was impossible to pry them apart.
And now Davian was making his way through the streets of the capitol for his weekly visit with his mentor of sorts. The palace guards did not even need to glance at him. He was the King's closest friend; if he would betray him then they could trust no one, not even the guards themselves. Davian walked through the gates and into the palace.
The palace of Darmovan was not exactly a palace. It would be better described as a mansion. It's handrails for the paved steps that led to the entrance protruded from the building like the arms of a sphinx. The very shape of it vaguely resembled it's head. Made of darker mixed stones and deep red brick it had a bit of far-eastern style to it. The inside was laid out uniquely; there was simply a massive straight hall when you entered. Throughout the seemingly never ending hallway there were numerous doors on either side. They led to other winding hallways, rooms for servants, emergency traps and defenses in case of a siege. But there was no upper floor to the mansion. At the end of the 'long hall' there was an arched doorway, or gate, it is difficult to tell which it comes closer to. And through that was the throne room of which Davian was just stepping through.
The King was bellowing at some unfortunate subject. The terrified subordinate scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him just in time for a plate to smash into it, shattering to a hundred pieces. Grumbling, he turned to see Davian. The King's eyes lit up and his scowl melted away into a broad grin.
"Good good! I had almost forgotten you were coming, Davian! What new form of welfare would my favorite of the Aenmals introduce this week?"
"It's not welfare, if we gave them an opportunity then—"The King snorted loudly, a rather rude interruption. He had little pity for the commoners who could not make it in life, after all it was their problems, they had every opportunity to make their way. The taxes were low and the economy was as good as could be expected. Davian knew this too, but he had always had a large heart. 'Too big for his own good' as the King had told him since he was a child. It was a rare thing for something to truly touch the ruler of Darmovan, but this could make him 'feel a woman' as he always said.
"I wish for just once you would watch the urchins squander your gold. They will drink too much and vandalize property. Intoxicated men and even women have been known to commit murder and not remember it the next day. You care too damn much and think too little." The king's voice was hard, but was betrayed by his sad smile and glistening eyes. He quickly grabbed a flask of ale from his garments and drank so fast it leaked out, dribbling down his chin.
"But my liege, they are depressed over their lack of skills; it is a difficult world we live in. You can only expect that they would make mistakes at times." The king gulped the last of the alcohol down his throat and let out a refreshed 'Aaah'.
"Exactly. A confident man always knows when to quit, hell even I do. But when you have nothing to lose who knows what someone will do?"
"Truly this is a miniscule number…"
The King sighed heavily. "You're heart is too big for it's own good Davian, have I ever told you that?"
"Many times, sire."
He sighed again, only louder than before. "Let us talk later; I want to hear a few songs on that harp of yours."
Davian grinned widely and unhooked the straps holding his harp to his back. Many of the commoners asked him for a song, but it seemed to him that only the King truly appreciated the music. He sat down in one of the many chairs provided in the throne room. He began to pick a depressing scale up and down, a slight change in the down and up turns each time. It was a variable of D Dorian mode that has to this day never been copied. For seemingly forever the song continued, it's essence consumed you.
The King got a distant and faraway look in his eyes. It was his favorite of all Davian's compositions. 'The end of all' it was named. A simple title, yet it fit the mood perfectly.
Someday,, it will have lyrics to make the hardest man weep Davian had once promised.
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"Yes, wait just a moment then." Roland told the stunningly beautiful woman who appeared to be their leader. If it hadn't been for her red shawl he might have noticed. He closed the door behind himself and dashed through the hall to the throne room. All red! Every single one of them! At least not all of them had the face; that should give them some advantage. But arriving only three days after he himself returned….
Why me? Roland wondered as he often did.
He opened the gate to find Davian was there, and playing his harp. He truly had the worst luck, not to mention timing. Ah well, this could not wait.
"My Lord," Roland addressed, his voice amazingly steady as it could be in times of crisis. The playing stopped and the haze of the song left the chamber. The King grimaced as he woke from his living dream.
The fairest of maidens once kissed me so sweet
"My Lord," He repeated. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but the Aes Sedai have arrived."
