Chapter 8: Their Father's Eye Elsewhere
Alick did not expect Theodane to speak to him, but it still stung whenever his youngest child happened to glance at him with that baleful expression in his green eyes. Theo was quick, intelligent, and a fine young man, and there was no more Alick could do to hold onto him. This would be the cleanest break for the whole family. That's what he kept telling himself as the household hurried to pack and prepare for the envoy to the conclave.
He hoped for peace between templars and mages, for the sake of his eldest daughter and for his two youngest brothers. He hoped for a swift resolution, if only to bring Theo safely back to Ostwick. It would be like Maranda all over again. It would hurt, but at least he'd know his child was safe, and still in the Marcher city.
Like so much of the Maker's will, it wasn't ideal, but it was bearable. He had to keep telling himself it was the Maker's will, that the Maker had a purpose and a reason for everything. "He must," he said, staring at the small effigy of Andraste in the family chapel.
"Believe what you must," Cordelia said. She stared at her hands in her lap. "I knew this would happen, but… it's not any easier."
There were so many things they could have done differently, but Alick knew that nothing would have softened the blow. Even knowing that Maranda was a mage, and in the best place to teach and protect her, didn't help. Knowing that Gavriel would likely die young hurt. And giving up Theo to the Chantry only twisted the knife in his wounds all the more. It felt like half of his children were only on loan to him.
"I will believe what I must," he told his wife. He didn't reach for her, though he wanted to. "I have to believe all of this was for a reason. And perhaps going to the Conclave… seeing the Divine for himself…"
Cordelia sort of smiled, sad and wistful. "It won't change him. He's too stubborn, and he wasn't made for that life. We've always known that. Or at least, I've always known." She glanced over at her husband. "I think that you wanted to know that. But you didn't let yourself. You were always too stubborn as well."
Alick sighed. He hadn't wanted to let himself believe it. But he realized now that nothing would have helped soften the blow. Now it was too late.
A knock sounded on the chapel door, and the hinges creaked. "We're nearly ready to leave," Cadan said, poking his head into the room. "They're just saddling up the horses."
Alick nodded. "Thank you. May the Maker shine on you."
"Yeah, and also on you and all of that, but aren't you going to come say farewell?" Cadan leaned on the doorframe. "Haven't you been telling us that this is a great honor and all?"
"It is," Alick said. He stared at his folded hands. He'd considered going; but there were things see to at home, Gave to watch over for signs of illness, appearances to make at the Chantry. Excuses not to have to see his youngest off for good.
"Get your arse out of that pew and come say goodbye," Cadan said. That did get Alick's attention, and when he looked, Cadan was smiling. But he was also in his full templar armor, polished and shining in the morning sun, and his eyes were sharp. It had been a long time since the third Trevelyan son had dared challenge his oldest brother. "If I have to drag you I will, Alick," Cadan said when the silence dragged on.
"Come," Cordelia said, grasping Alick's hand and leading him to join Cadan on the walk to the front gate of the manor grounds.
Gavriel waved as his father approached. Theodane was talking with Lissa, his dark hair flopping over his forehead and his hands jammed into his pockets. Alick frowned slightly; Lissa was shamelessly flirting with her brother-in-law. Perhaps sending Theo away would be for the best, if only to avoid any uncomfortable situations. At least Theo wasn't flirting back.
"My children," Alick announced, and Lissa blushed furiously and bowed her head as she stepped back from Theo. Theo glanced at his father, sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest. "If the weather holds you will make excellent time to Ferelden," he said, more to Cadan and Declan, who'd joined them, than to Theo. "Send word when you reach the conclave."
"Yes my lord," Declan said with a bow. "It will be an honor to represent our family before the Most Holy." He reached to shake his oldest brother's hand, then impulsively pulled Alick into a hug. Alick slammed against his thick breastplate with a 'humph' as Declan clapped him on the shoulder.
Cadan hugged him next. "Watch over him," Alick said, staring at Theo. He took a deep breath. "My guards will see that he does not slip away. They have their orders. He's a Trevelyan through and through, stubborn to the core." He tried to ignore the pang in his chest as he looked past Cadan, and to where Theo was checking his saddle once more, a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder and dressed in the livery of House Trevelyan.
"Why don't you tell him that?" Cadan gently suggested as he turned to finish readying his own horse.
Alick straightened up and made his way over to his son. "Theodane Oliver Trevelyan," he said, pushing aside his conflicted emotions to sound stern. "You go to stand before Her Perfection, the Most Holy servant of Andraste, as an envoy of this house. This is a pilgrimage of honor. As you go, know the peace of the Maker's benediction."
Theo blinked a couple times and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Um, thanks," he finally said without meeting his father's eyes. He turned and stepped up into one stirrup and then hoisted himself onto his horse. He rubbed the horse's neck and clucked soothingly to it, even though the horse was calm.
There were so many things to say: apologies to make, explanations to give, forgiveness to request. The late summer sun beat down and a fresh, salty sea breeze wafted on the currents of the wind. Alick turned away and headed for the manor. He heard the jangle of armor and harnesses as his brothers and the house guards mounted up, and he heard the clip clop of hooves on the cobblestones as the caravan began to head out.
He did not turn, though he so badly wanted to watch the convoy, to see his son one last time, to wave farewell. Instead he walked straight into his study where he locked the door and collapsed behind his desk. He rubbed his temples and tried to steady his breathing. Theo was in the Maker's hands now. The Maker's will would be done, and Alick would accept it as he always had. He only hoped the Maker would be kind, and make his sacrifices worthwhile.
The Beginning.
