Author's Note: I think this one is my favourite so far even if it is a bit gritty :)
~Two for Flinching~
For several days the banns arrived at the Vigil, and finally gathered in the main hall, preparing to swear the Oath of Fealty to their new arlessa. Sitting in her chair, proudly adorned with the outline of mabari war hounds, Drea smiled graciously at lords and ladies in the room. For the first time since the attack on Highever, she was dressed in proper noble robes, determined to live up to her new role within the arling. Personally, she would have preferred ceremonial armour, but was not in the position to make such frivolous requests when it was still a struggle to outfit her soldiers. Even so, with her dark hair swept up in a modest, but attractive style, she easily made the transition from hero to arlessa. Lining up, it was a woman who began, "I promise that I, Bann Esmerelle, will be faithful to the Arl in matters of life, limb, and honour. Never will I bear arms against her or her heirs."
Although she appeared attentive, even periodically nodding and smiling, it wasn't long before her mind wandered off from the repetition of the oath by each of the banns and freeholders. Glancing around the room, she couldn't help but be impressed with her recruits in their spotless armour. Being unable to represent the Grey Wardens, it fell on the recruits to make the presence of the order known. Nathaniel, holding his usual dour expression was closest to the back of the room. Tolerating him on a daily basis proved to be a constant practice of patience for her. Don't worry, I'll keep my mouth firmly shut had all but become his personal slogan and was usually muttered after a derisive comment. She knew she would be hard pressed to actually like him, but she had assumed they would have reached some sort of understanding. Unfortunately, in the time since the Joining, the tension had escalated and there was nothing but a steady stream of bitterness between them. Anders, on the other hand, had proven to be full of pleasant conversation. He was a welcomed distraction and often served as the peace keeper between Drea and Nathaniel. Oghren was his usual charming self, but she was grateful he was there and had survived the Joining. It was a relief to have a familiar face and she never had to question his loyalty. And even if no one else appreciated his crude sense of humour, he was always very effective at breaking the tension. The only one missing was Mhairi. Drea deeply regretted that she did not survive the Joining. In the two days she had known her, she could see the potential radiating from her and it was unfortunate that her time was cut short. But it was not something she could dwell on.
As the ceremony drew to a close, Drea snapped her attention back to the nobles in the room before her. Clearing her throat, she rose from her chair, "Lords and ladies, it is my duty to serve as Arlessa and always act in the best interest of the Arling of Amaranthine. I now invite you to relax and enjoy yourselves. Many have traveled quite a distance to be here and I would like you to have a pleasant evening while we celebrate new beginnings."
With that, the nobles slowly started to chat among themselves. These were troubled times and most of them were happy for the distraction. As was proper, Drea quickly started circulating around the room, spending time with each person to try and get to know the people within her arling. Her father had taught her the importance of respecting those in one's service and she was easily able to project herself as a positive and confident arlessa. Before long, she found herself speaking with Lord Eddelbrek, representative of many of the outlying rural areas. To her surprise she realized she had met him before - he was a friend of her father's. "I am pleased, albeit a little surprised that you remember me," Lord Eddelbrek admitted. "I swear to you and Andraste that I had nothing to do with the attack against Highever. It was a disgrace."
"I appreciate that," she replied, giving a slight nod.
"And…" he started hesitantly, "While I have you…I know this is quite inappropriate, but I was hoping to talk to you about the protection of the outlying rural areas." He maintained a slight grimace on his face to show he was embarrassed to be bringing this up. It did not come across as sincere however, considering he plowed right into the topic. "As you must already be aware, the darkspawn attacks are increasing in frequency, and some in our arling do not have the comfort of the city walls. On the plains, the situation is dire. I…"
"So I see Lord Eddelbrek wastes no time," a shrill voice interrupted him. Drea turned to the new person who joined the conversation to see it was Bann Esmerelle. Taking Drea's hand she introduced herself again, "I represent the great City of Amaranthine. Since Lord Eddelbrek had decided to sink so low as to bring this up now, I would like to point out that the city is also in need of protection."
Glaring at Bann Esmerelle, Lord Eddelbrek was quick to argue, "What more protection do you need? The city is surrounded by a stone wall that shields it from harm. The farmers are defenseless! They are simple folks on small, vulnerable plots of land - they need the Arlessa's help."
Rolling her eyes, Bann Esmerelle shot back, "Oh please. Amaranthine is the jewel of arling, she must be protected. It took generations to build! If she falls, this great arling will be diminished."
"And if the farms fall, what will all the people in the precious city eat? The arling will starve," Lord Eddelbrek challenged. By this time, the heated pair had turned to face each other virtually forgetting Drea was among them.
Firmly clapping one hand on each person's shoulder, she felt them jump slightly under her touch. Falling silent, they turned to face her and she gave a gentle pat before dropping her hands by her side. "I appreciate the points you both make. Seneschal Varel currently knows the arling better than I do, and I can promise that I will speak with him at length about this. Thank you both for bringing this matter to my attention." Both of them were ready to argue more, to try and push her into an immediate answer, but she had left no room for them to do so. Tightly smiling they both nodded to her out of respect before politely excusing themselves.
Inwardly, she was chuckling to herself at their utter lack of couth. It was no surprise to her that the dressed up nobility were little more than bickering children, but it was always a slight disappointment to see it. She couldn't deny it was definitely more comfortable on the battlefield - the enemy was clear and the solution was obvious.
The rest of the evening seemed to drag on, but eventually it came to a close. By noon the next day, all of the Vigil's company had set out on the road, eager to get back to their homes. Shortly after that, Drea was in the training yard with her wasters in hand. Since her arrival, each single day felt like several and for each problem she solved it seemed the three more sprang up in its place. It was a blur. And, whenever the seneschal wasn't cornering her with more issues, Nathaniel was passive-aggressively pushing her buttons. Even the sight of his smug face was enough to bring the storm cloud to her mind. Desperately needing to centre herself, she took her aggressions out on the training dummies. Nothing cleared her mind like the focus she found in battle, and beating on padding attached to a wooden post was the closest thing she had.
The training grounds were often a point of interest for others, either to study fellow warriors or simply admire the violent dance. Most of Drea's admirers were made up of her recruits, as they stood nearby and secured their armour. It was only a matter of time until she demanded they train as well. Already prepared, Nathaniel watched the Commander closely, finally clicking his tongue with disgust. Oghren shot him a questioning frown, so he elaborated, "Do you see that? She's always leading in the same way. For the reputation she has, she has astoundingly lazy tactics."
Oghren's eyes lit up with amusement, "You don't say."
Still focusing on Drea, Nathaniel quickly pointed, "Ugh, and see? Right there, she keeps leaving herself wide open. I just don't understand it. Are the darkspawn easily stunned or something to be bested by that?"
"You could do better?" Oghren asked, not trying to hide his grin.
"Of course," Nathaniel replied flatly.
"What are you doing over here then? You should challenge her. Go sodding prove yourself!" Oghren bellowed.
With his chest puffed, Nathaniel nodded and strode away. Surprised, Anders turned to Oghren, "What did you do that for?"
Oghren casually shrugged, "I'm bored."
"But they'll kill each other," Anders argued.
Chuckling, Oghren agreed, "And then I'll be less bored."
Drea heard someone approaching her on the grounds, but did not respond - it was open to all the soldiers and recruits. When she glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw it was Nathaniel however, the bile rose in the back of her throat.
"I hope you don't consider mindlessly smashing a dummy as some form of training. I mean…what exactly can you expect to learn from that?" he asked as he approached. The question was honest enough, but there was more than just a hint of arrogance to his tone.
"I suppose that's your way of offering to practice with me?" she snapped. He spread his hands apart in casual agreement. "You don't want to do that," she quickly replied.
"Why?" he asked in a mocking tone, "Are you scared?"
"Scared I might kill a recruit, yes," she answered in a humourless voice.
"True, from what I hear, that is your way," he pushed with a defiant stare.
Silently glaring, she quickly whipped her two short swords at him without warning. He smoothly snatched them out of the air as she grabbed another set off the weapon rack.
Easily, they both started the dance - slowly circling one another, letting the tension between them build as they exchanged dark glances. With her lip curling into a sneer, she finally broke forward, trying to catch him off guard.
His sword quickly blocked hers with such force it threatened to knock the waster from her hand. Again, they circled as she carefully watched his foot work. He matched her step for step. As before, she rushed forward, stabbing at him and as before was effectively blocked. With a smirk, he finally asked, "Don't you want to know how I'm anticipating you?"
"No," she replied through gritted teeth, and without resuming their circling, she attacked again. Confidently, he moved to block, only to find his waster slicing through the air with no resistance. As his arc finished, he felt her dagger painfully jab into his ribs as she swiftly ducked past his swing. "I want to know how you didn't anticipate that," she hissed. Already, he could feel the angry welt swelling under his leather armour. Turning around to face her, she proudly stood smiling with an eyebrow raised at how easily she was able to land the first hit.
All the humour quickly dropped from his face as he realized he had been fooled. Clenching his jaw to keep from speaking out, he attacked her, determined to wipe the smile from her face. Effortlessly, she shifted out of his path as he brought his sword down just inches from her. But before she could shuffle back, Nathaniel jerked his arm and sharply elbowed her in the side. It did little damage, but proved he could move as quickly as her. Moving clear of him, they began to circle one another again. Carefully, they both scrutinized each other, determined not to underestimate the other again. In perfect synchronization, they both charged and met in the centre as their wasters crashed together.
An audience started to form around the border of the training grounds as the pair picked up speed. Their blades were a blur to those watching, but the steady smacking sound of wood striking wood was proof that they were connecting. Finally, the two came to a stop as their blades were locked. Breathing heavily, they glared at each other through their locked weapons. Suddenly, Nathaniel ran his blade up the length of hers and connected the butt of his waster hard into her collarbone, knocking her back. Her shoulder instantly tightened from the impact so as she paced, she rotated her arm to loosen it again. "It's not just the blade you need to watch out for," Nathaniel informed her, an obvious statement that sent Drea's blood boiling.
With a growl, Drea flung herself at Nathaniel, who slapped her blades away. As he did, he left his side open and Drea swiftly kicked him in the ribs where she had previously stuck her dagger. "Refusing to close your gaps? Seems I am still just smashing a dummy," she retorted.
Grunting in pain, Nathaniel didn't answer. Drea knew she was close to losing the match as she was on the edge of losing her temper…but the saving grace was she could tell Nathaniel was on the edge too. Storming forward, their swords met again and quickly were whirling too quickly for anyone to track. Both were instinctively blocking the other and it was evident they had similar training - the key was in speed not strength.
Suddenly, the blur stopped. Nathaniel had Drea's sword trapped between his crossed wasters. Before she could pull it free, Nathaniel snapped his wrists in quick spin and the sword was wretched from her grasp. Unfortunately, she refused to let go and could hear the crunching sound ripple through her wrist as the blade fell away regardless. Jumping back, she felt the pain shooting up the length of her arm as her wrist started to swell. Broken. She tucked her arm close to her, and the pain threw her over the edge.
Enraged she charged Nathaniel. He sidestepped her swing, but quickly she reversed, pulling it upward and jamming painfully into the underside of Nathaniel's wrist. His waster instantly dropped to the ground and she quickly kicked it away. Rubbing his wrist, his eyes grew stony but she refused to give him room to breathe.
Slicing at him, she forced him into a defensive pose to block her swing, but she suddenly switched hands and moved in on his exposed side. Without thinking, his body reacted and his arm drew back to protect his ribs. He instantly felt pain and after seeing the stunned expression on Drea's face, looked down to see he had pinned her waster under his arm. It was crushing painfully into his ribs, but Nathaniel quickly turned away to try and disarm her.
Not wanting two broken wrists, she let the waster go. Nathaniel closed in with his dagger, forcing her to dodge or block with her forearms. New bruises were angrily forming on her arms, but the only pain she could feel was from her broken wrist. Even unarmed, she managed to land several solid hits, infuriating Nathaniel who should have had the advantage. Finally, she braced her good wrist against his and delivered a powerful smack to the back of his hand, sending the dagger flying from his grasp. Knocking his arm out of the way for a brief opening, she dove forward and before he could snap his arm back down, she angrily punched her fists into his ribs.
The spar had quickly degraded into a fight fit for a shady tavern. With each blow she struck, she felt the indescribable pain consume her entire arm, but it didn't stop her. The pain fueled her, and she could feel his crunching bones under her knuckles, vaguely hearing Nathaniel cry out. Finally, he threw his shoulder forward, connecting with her face and swept her legs out from under her. She hit the ground before she felt the pain burst through her nose and spread out through her skull. As a proud smile oozed onto his lips, she clamped her legs around Nathaniel's feet and quickly forced herself to roll over.
Nathaniel's face was cracked into the ground before he could even raise his hands. Kicking himself free of her legs, he scooped up a nearby waster as he hopped to his feet. Instead of attacking, he started to pace like an angry, caged animal as he tried to catch the breath that was violently knocked from his lungs. Wiping the dirt from his mouth with the back of his hand, he started poking at his teeth with his tongue. Convinced none had been knocked out, he spat a glob of blood onto the ground. With no dirt obstructing his newly split lip, blood started to flow freely down his chin. Watching him carefully, Drea reached up to gingerly touch her nose, which was throbbing as badly as her wrist. Amazingly, it didn't seem to be broken, but blood was splattered across her face. Then, seeing him tightly grip the waster, she tensed, preparing to roll out of the way of his next attack.
Suddenly, they both became aware of shouting. Breaking past the gathered audience, Anders raced towards them, yelling loudly, "What is this? Are you two trying to kill each other? Have you gone insane?" As he approached, he thrust himself between the two, forcing them to stop. Looking from Anders to Nathaniel, she understood it was over. With a grunt, Nathaniel flung his waster to the ground. "It's bad enough that I have you heal you after a run in with the darkspawn. Now I'm going to have to be on hand every time you spar? Unbelievable!"
The pair ignored the angered mage to glare deeply at one another while they nosily tried to catch their breath. Finally, Nathaniel bent down and offered Drea his hand. Still eyeing him suspiciously, she accepted, and he helped her to her feet. Nathaniel stood, favoring his cracked ribs while Drea pulled her swollen wrist to her chest and Anders shook his head. Finally, Drea nodded at Nathaniel, who returned the gesture. Exchanging no words, the two limped off the field in opposite directions, leaving Anders grumbling loudly. As she left, she was sure she heard Oghren proudly shout that he may be able to teach her how to be a berserker after all.
It was well into the evening when Drea heard a knock at her chamber door. Before she could answer, Anders poked his head in the room. "And here I was hoping you wouldn't be decent," he quipped.
She remained seated on her bench with her legs stretched out,"I suppose you'll have to settle for my being informal…I won't be getting up to greet you," she replied with a slight grimace on her face.
"Just as well," Anders sighed, "Even with my healing spells, I doubt all the welts and bruises have cleared up just yet. I'll wait to catch you being indecent once you look less mangled. For now, I've just stopped by to check on you." Without hesitating, he crossed the room and started looking her over - starting with her wrist. She was too worn out for a witty reply, but she cooperated. "The good news is, he is in as rough of shape as you are…I wish I could figure out why you hate him so much," Anders mumbled the last sentence almost under his breath.
"I don't hate him," she stated sharply. Anders was not rattled and simply paused long enough to raise his eyebrow at her. "I'm not fond of the fact that he's a Howe," she finished.
"Ah, so he's got his father's name and a chip on his shoulder. Well it might interest you to know that he's been talking to some of the people who have been here since he was young, like the groundskeeper and the seneschal. I'm sure you can imagine some of what he's learning especially regarding his father," Anders tone remained light as he finished checking her over. He glanced up to see her frown and added, "I'm just saying you might want to consider easing up on him is all. It's not a good time for him either."
Satisfied that she was healing well, he finally sat on the chair across from her. For a moment Drea calmly watched Anders before settling back on her bench. "Why the concern Anders?" she asked, showing no hint of irritation, only curiosity. "This doesn't really involve you."
He stared at her incredulously before finally speaking, "Are you seriously saying that to me? It doesn't involve me? It's only taken up my entire afternoon putting you both back together after you finished tearing each other apart! What, do you think this is easy on me? That it takes no effort; I just wave my arms about?" Quickly giving up, Anders sighed and got to his feet. Pausing at the door he turned back to Drea, "Look, cut him some slack or don't. You're right; it's none of my business. But just know it does take a lot out of me to fix you both up. So for my sake, I'd appreciate if two could at least stick to verbally beating each other up." Even as the door closed, Anders caught the muted grin that played on Drea's lips.
