Between The Shadows
Chapter Three
Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine
Water droplets glistened on Nathaniel Howe's lean, muscular body as he stepped out of the tub and dried himself off. He'd scrubbed himself repeatedly until the dirt and grime were gone and his skin turned pink and pruney, but had less success in erasing the haunting memories of Adria from his mind. Encountering the ghouls and piles of corpses in the Keep's basement had been bad enough, but seeing the woman who'd been like a mother to him now transformed into a ghoul had shaken him to the core. He'd begged the Warden Commander to save Adria, babbling that they had to try something…anything to save Adria from this horrible fate. However, Neria had shaken her head and quietly told him it was impossible to reverse the taint. Adria was no longer the kind, matronly woman he once knew, but rather now a soulless ghoul. Ending her…its…misery, he corrected himself, was an act of mercy. She'd represented the last vestige of any soft or pleasant memories he'd had from childhood.
Nathaniel shut his eyes and sighed as he began to dress. Then there was the Warden Commander herself; she unlocked a slew of feelings, emotions and desires he'd rather not dwell upon. Neria had shown him mercy, stood as a shield against many who would have shunned him and deftly broken the ice between himself and the other Grey Wardens. She tended to be impulsive, often leading with her heart which was why, he supposed, she inspired such confidence and loyalty amongst those serving under her. Then when she was in his lap, her luscious bottom writhing deliciously against his groin in her struggle to get away had set his desire for her spinning out of control. As he laced up his breeches, he groaned as his hand brushed his aching erection. The temptation to pleasure himself was great…just a few more strokes and he would have the relief his body ached for. He wanted her and he resented her for it. The changes in his life were happening so fast, it was a struggle to reconcile his desires with his past feelings of anger and hatred. They'd been part of him for so long, it was difficult to just let it go.
A knock at his door had him cursing under his breath and his hands fumbling to lace up his breeches. When he was decent he opened the door to find an elven servant waiting patiently. "Milord?"
"Yes? What is it?" Nathaniel frowned at the servant. His livery was not that of the Keep's, indicating the elf worked for one of the arling's nobility.
"A message for you milord." He handed Nathaniel a folded note.
Nathaniel unfolded the note, quickly scanned its contents and tucked the note into his pocket.
"Tell her I will meet her shortly." Nathaniel nodded curtly at the elf, dismissing him.
"Aye, milord." The elf bowed and left.
Nathaniel passed by the Warden Commander's office on his way to the stables. He jumped in surprise when her door abruptly opened and she stepped out.
"Nathaniel! Just the man I wanted to see!" She grabbed him by the arm. "Come with me!"
"Commander?"
Her eyes danced mischievously. "I have something for you."
"Can't it wait?" he said, annoyed at being waylaid from his original destination.
"No, and shut up, Nathaniel. You will obey your Commander's orders."
He rolled his eyes but her enthusiasm was infectious, he relented as she pulled him inside her office.
"How is your bosom?" he asked, his cheeks quickly reddening at his poor choice of words. "Ah, I mean your wound around the…" He gestured vaguely to her torso.
She sent him a wicked grin, seeming to enjoy his embarrassment. "Oh, it's a little tender, but the bruising should go away in a few days," she replied, referring to the injury she'd sustained while they'd been clearing the Keep's basement. "But I didn't bring you here to talk about my chest." Walking over to her desk, she picked up a bundle wrapped in oilcloth and handed it to him.
"What's this?" he asked.
She smiled. "Open it and you'll see."
Nathaniel's eyes widened as he unwrapped the bundle and spotted the Howe crest on the bow. "This bow belonged to my grandfather!"
"I also found some correspondence that belonged to Delilah," she added, nodding at a packet of letters wrapped together with a faded green ribbon. "You might find them interesting. I think the bow is broken though."
He slid his hand reverently over the curved wood. "It is enchanted so that only a Howe can use it." He stared at the bow for a long moment. When he looked up at her his eyes were filled with suspicion. "Why did you give this to me?"
She arched an eyebrow. "You mentioned you wanted some family mementos. Was I wrong?"
He shook his head, his expression troubled. "I want to ask you something," he said in a low, raw voice, voicing the question that had been nagging him for months. "My father…did he suffer in the end?"
Seeming unsurprised, Neria crossed her arms. "Are you sure you want to hear this, Nathaniel?" she asked skeptically. "It isn't pleasant."
He nodded mutely.
"He was in the dungeons of the Denerim estate," She spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. "There were so many rooms filled with people that were either tortured or killed. When I finally confronted him for his deeds, he attacked. It was going to be either him or me. But for what it's worth, I did not prolong his pain in the end. I'm sorry."
All the resentment and anger that had been stewing in his gut over the past few weeks boiled over violently. "That's it?" Nathaniel asked coldly. "My father is dead and all you can say is sorry? That's supposed to make me feel better?"
She frowned. "What do you want me to say?"
Nathaniel began pacing restlessly, continuing as if she hadn't spoken. "And then you shower me with gifts and offer these trite platitudes about my father!"
"I gave you the bow and the letters," she said through clenched teeth. "Because I thought they would make you happy. "
"Am I supposed to fall upon my knees and worship you in gratitude?" he sneered.
Neria's fists clenched. "You pompous jackass! You think you are the only one in all of Ferelden who's lost someone they loved?" she yelled. "I died the day I lost Colin!" Tears streamed furiously down her face as she realized she'd revealed too much. Her back rigid, she turned towards the fireplace. "Get out," she said curtly.
"Commander," he began hesitantly, beginning to regret his earlier outburst.
"I mean it, Howe. Leave."
Nathaniel exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. Had he been too harsh with her? He shut his eyes briefly as a myriad of emotions swirled in his head. Nothing made sense anymore. Shaking his head, he reminded himself: she was the murderer. Did she seriously expect the anger to instantaneously melt away because she gave him a few gifts? Remembering he still had another person to meet with, he made his way to the stables. Luckily the Keep was abuzz with servants and soldiers all bustling to finish the preparations for the Fealty Ceremony tonight, his movements would remain unnoticed.
He slipped into the stables, heading towards a hooded figure already waiting for him at a stall furthest from the stable entrance.
Nathaniel kept his face carefully blank. "Greetings, your ladyship."
Bann Esmerelle slipped the hood of her cloak off her head and held her hand out to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel ignored the proffered hand, choosing instead to execute a shallow bow. Esmerelle's features hardened as she looked Nathaniel up and down.
"You have my condolences for the death of your father," she began. "He was a great man."
"Thank you."
"A pity that the arling had to fall into the hands of those Wardens," Esmerelle remarked bitterly, spitting out the last word as if it left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.
"May I remind you, Bann Esmerelle, that I am one of them now," he said defensively. She wore the same expression of perpetual discontent his father had.
She waved her hand negligently. "Yes, yes. Be that as it may, I understand you still harbor a grudge towards that knife ears who murdered your father in cold blood. It was quite clever of you to join the Wardens and bide your time 'till you could have your revenge."
Nathaniel frowned. "No, you misunderstand…"
"I've have a proposal for you," she interrupted him. She held up a pouch and shook it; it jingled with coins. "Fifty sovereigns, Nathaniel. Well enough to get you a new start on life. And the chance to get revenge for you father. All you have to do is report any interesting developments to me."
"You mean spy on her," Nathaniel muttered.
Esmerelle smiled sardonically and shook the pouch at him again. "That's one way of putting it. Just think of it as looking out for the interests of the people of Amaranthine. Give me your answer by the end of this evening, Nathaniel. Will you consider it?"
Nathaniel nodded. "I will consider it."
.
.
.
.
.
Neria spent a long time in the Warden Commander's office with strict orders not to be disturbed. She'd cried as grief surged through her…wounds she'd thought had long since healed were raw and bloody again. But after awhile she became angry again. She would not waste one single tear over that…jerk. She was beginning to regret the impulsive outburst about turning into a bear and sliming Nathaniel. Sod Nathaniel, sod her being all alone is this dratted hole of Keep. She just wanted to hide somewhere for a very long time. She couldn't, of course. She was supposed to set an example as Commander of the Grey and the Arlessa of Amaranthine, along with the added pressure of being the first elf and mage to hold a position of authority. She missed the informal camaraderie of questing on the road amongst people with whom she could be herself. Wiping her tears away quickly, she left her office and headed back to her own quarters.
"My lady, you are late!" a stern voice greeted her.
"I'm sorry Jeannie; I had some matters to take care of."
"You've been crying."
She tried to smile as Jeannie helped her to undress. "Only about the appalling lack of chocolate they don't stock at the Keep."
Jeannie tutted. "I've a bath laid out for you, my lady."
She climbed into the tub and sighed with bliss. This was one of the times she was grateful that Varel had insisted she have a lady in waiting, as was befitting a lady of her station. She'd met Jeannie back in the Alienage in Denerim and they'd become fast friends. When Neria had been assigned to Vigil's Keep, she'd asked Jeannie to come along, knowing she'd need an ally in the midst of all these…strangers. But now Jeannie insisted on calling her "my lady", much to Neria's frustration.
After Jeannie had washed out her hair and Neria had scrubbed herself clean, Jeannie helped her to dress and put on her evening ball gown. She was pale but radiant in a lush, smoky blue velvet gown with dark blue silk chiffon upper sleeves embroidered with beadwork. The neckline was elegantly edged with silver ribbon.
"Can you imagine you are the first elf in all of history to be an Arlessa?" Jeannie exclaimed brushing Neria's hair until it gleamed.
"It's not all it's cracked up to be, believe me." Neria kept her eyes closed as Jeannie expertly braided and pinned Neria's hair into an elegant chignon. "I have this recurring nightmare that when I enter the room, I trip over my dress and everyone laughs."
"Be yourself, my lady," Jeannie advised. "Let the nobles get to know you and the rest will come naturally."
Neria smiled as she took Jeannie's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "I think that's probably what they are afraid of," Neria said wryly.
"You are going to be just fine, my lady," Jeannie said with confidence.
"Thank you, Jeannie."
After her toilette was completed, Neria dismissed her handmaiden. Gazing at herself critically in the mirror, she eyed the angry looking bruise that marred her décolletage. Jeannie had wanted to cover it up with powder, but she'd refused. At least the bruise matched the color of her gown, she thought with a smile. She picked up her staff and left the room.
As she meandered through the halls of the Keep the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. She had the feeling that someone was following her, but when she turned to look around the hallways were empty. The dark, shifting shadows created by the flickering torches wreaked havoc on her senses. She was being paranoid, she told herself. Yet, as time passed, the more acute her anxiety became.
She caught the foul odor of cheap, rancid ale just as meaty hands seized her from behind and slammed her against the wall. Pain exploded throughout her body as she fell to the floor stunned, barely aware of the fleshy fingers surrounding her throat…and then everything went black.
.
.
.
.
.
The nobles of Amaranthine had come to pledge allegiance to the Commander of the Grey. The throne room was packed full of people, with servants circulating around the room with trays of wine and bon mots. From his position on the dais, Nathaniel noticed a tall, fair-headed knight in the corner sporting a black eye who looked like he had been on the receiving end of a bad thrashing. Ser Anthony, if he recalled correctly. The colors he wore indicating he belonged to Bann Esmerelle's contingent.
"Anders," noted Seneschal Varel with concern. "Have you seen the Commander? She's not usually this late."
Anders shook his head, his gold earring glinting in the ambient light. "Last I heard, she was still in her rooms, getting ready. You want me to check on her?"
Varel nodded. "That would be much appreciated, Anders."
Anders started to make his way to the hallway, but stopped at the appearance of the Commander. The entire room hushed and all eyes were on her as she slowly made her way to the dais, with the smooth leisurely deliberation of a swan gliding across a lake. Nathaniel thought her the most beautiful woman in the world, the dark smoky blue of her dress complimenting her grey eyes perfectly. Taking her place on the center of the dais, she nodded to Varel.
"Let the ceremony begin," Varel intoned formally.
As the various nobles came forward to pledge their allegiance, Nathaniel kept his eyes on Neria. She held herself rigidly and her face was devoid of any expression, like that of a china doll. Her right arm was cradled protectively against her side. Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
After Banns Esmerelle and Edelbreck swore fealty, the crowd began to mingle again and the room was abuzz with chatter.
"Varel, you may dismiss the nobles now," Neria said quietly. "I am going back to my chambers."
He nodded. "As you wish, Commander, but Ser Tamara insists she has urgent business to discuss with you…."
"Tell her to meet me in my office in one hour." she replied.
Varel nodded his head. "Yes, Commander."
"Anders, will you walk with me?" she asked. "I need to discuss something with you."
"Of course."
Nathaniel stared in concern as Neria and Anders exited the room. The Commander should now be mingling amongst the nobles to get to know them and get a feel for what she might be dealing with. To leave the ceremony so early was unwise. Perhaps he should go and tell her. Hurrying after them, he caught up them in the hallway. Now that she was no longer in front of an audience, Neria was leaning heavily against Anders, his arm supporting her as they walked slowly.
"Commander."
"Not now Nathaniel!" Neria said peevishly.
Nathaniel frowned as he studied her closely. "Where did the bruise on your chest go?"
She suddenly stumbled and Nathaniel instinctively took her arm to steady her. Neria cried out in pain, jerking her arm away from Nathaniel's grip and buckled to the floor.
The air around Neria suddenly shimmered; the image of an immaculately dressed Neria disappeared, leaving a battered and bruised Neria with her gown torn to shreds in its place.
"What in the hell happened?" Nathaniel demanded as Anders knelt down to quickly examine her injury.
"I think she fractured her arm. In fact, I'm sure the bone is broken," Anders replied urgently.
Her eyes were shut and sweat beaded her upper lip. "I had to cast a glamour. Couldn't let the Banns see me like this."
"I'm not talking about the fucking spell! Why are you all bloodied and bruised? Who did this to you?" Nathaniel demanded.
"No one did, Nathaniel, I fell and…" she gasped in pain again as Anders gingerly probed her arm.
A sudden image of the limping knight with the blackened eye flashed in Nathaniel's mind.
"Son of a bitch!" he yelled and took off at a full run down the hallway. He kicked the main door open and headed outside towards Bann Esmerelle's carriage, which Esmerelle was in the process of mounting. Nathaniel spotted the same knight who now had bandages to go with the black eye and tackled him at a full run. Caught by surprise, Ser Anthony went down with a pained grunt. Nathaniel jumped onto the fallen knight and ruthlessly began to pummel his face. Screams and chaos filled the air before Oghren, Varel, and a contingent of Keep guards came running out. It took the combined efforts of four Keep guards to pull Nathaniel off the knight.
Nathaniel shook himself free and glared at Ser Anthony, his chest heaving. "If you ever touch her again, I will castrate you. Slowly."
"What is the meaning of this?" Bann Esmerelle screeched. "How dare you attack one of my knights!"
"He assaulted the Commander," Nathaniel replied with deadly calm.
Esmerelle turned her attention to Ser Anthony. "Is this true?"
"That elven whore threw herself at me!" the knight protested. "When I refused, she got angry and she attacked me!"
"Spare me your lies," Nathaniel snapped at him, and then gestured to the Keep guards. "Place this man under arrest."
"You have no authority over my men, Howe!" Esmerelle retorted angrily.
Varel stepped forward, his eyes hard. "He may not, but I do." At Varel's nod of assent, the Keep guards took Ser Anthony into custody. "Leave now Esmerelle, or I may find it necessary to detain you for questioning as well."
The Bann's mouth dropped open in shock. "This isn't over, Grey Wardens," she muttered as she stepped into her carriage and drove off into the night.
"Well, that was interesting," Varel slid an assessing glance at Nathaniel. "Didn't think you had it in you, Howe."
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Varel. I think."
Leaving Varel to sort out the remaining chaos, Nathaniel headed to the Warden Commander's room. When he arrived, he found that Anders had already bandaged up Neria and she was fast asleep. "How is she?" he asked Anders.
"Remarkably, she only had the broken arm and some bruises," Anders replied. "The Commander excels at hand to hand combat. I almost feel sorry for that other fellow: mess with our Commander, you'll never be the same."
Nathaniel moved to Neria's side, never taking his eyes off her as he tenderly brushed the hair from her face. "Indeed," he murmured.
A/N: Thanks to b and kissy, my awesome betas! And thank you to everyone who has reviewed or put me on their favorites/alert list, you guys brighten my day. :)
