Chapter 10: Parents and Children
Bea was in good spirits as she made her way home. She had left early this morning and had only now just returned as dusk began to settle in.
The pale mare carried her and her supplies easily. There was much she would have to do tonight if she wanted to get a letter on its way to the University by tomorrow morning.
The elven stable master took her mount while she removed her pack. It contained many drawings and observations of nearby plant life. She had heard word of a darkspawn attack in the area eight months ago, near the tail end of the Blight, the darkspawn raiders had been moving fast, eager to catch up with the rest of the horde…
Enough life remained in the area for her to study, and make some very curious discoveries and observations.
As before, she had discovered evidence of the plants in the area changing, becoming more wild and perhaps more dangerous. She had taken several samples that she intended to study in greater detail. The first of her reports would be sent to the University as soon as she heard back from one of the senior professors there.
She could not help but smile.
Many of the senior botanists were going to be so jealous of her grand opportunity. Ferelden continued to deny Orlesian scholars the chance to study here. The fear of another occupation worked to her advantage in this instance.
A Study of Post-Blight Flora, by Bridget Glass, she realized that writing a simple paper on the topic might not be enough. She had gathered so much information in the last few weeks…
Perhaps a book would be more…appropriate.
As a native Ferelden there would be some resistance to her works. It was only because of father's connections that she had gotten into the university in the first place. Few women were allowed into the University, and none were Ferelden born. She had to be twice as good as her male counterparts. Surprising considering that the supreme ruler of Orlais was a woman, but…there it was.
Jealous colleagues would no doubt attempt to cut her work to pieces. She would need to make sure every little detail was ironclad before proceeding…
It might help to have more data, perhaps outside of what she had learned in the field around Denerim?
Hm?
A thought occurred to her. Perhaps she could write the shaperate in Orzammar, find out if any of their scholars had study the plant life that survived in the deep roads, provided that any did of course. She should have asked the King about it. Alistair had been in the deep roads after all, perhaps he could tell her more.
The thought made her chuckle.
Like the King would ever make time to answer her questions. He had so much to do in rebuilding their country. Feeding the curiosity of a scholar was likely the last thing on his list of things to do, and besides she had no real right to think of him so informally. Alistair is what a friend would call him…
She was barely a passing acquaintance; His Majesty deserved more respect than that.
She pushed any thought of inquiring anything from the king out of her mind. She had had her moment in the sun. Now she needed to come back to reality.
The King of Ferelden had better things to do that talk to her.
She slipped into the house, removing her hat and riding cloak. She had hoped that dinner would be ready soon; she was starving after her long ride. Father would no doubt be troubled that she had been gone so long, but that could not be helped. She had so much to do before returning to the University.
She did not want to miss anything.
Normally, one of the servants would come and see if she needed anything. They might not have been high royalty, but the Glass family still did command some respect.
"Hello?" she called out.
It was not a servant that came to her.
She was met at the door by both Margaret and Quentin.
Both of them were grinning widely.
"Where have you been, sister," Em asked, her eyes alight, "You missed all the excitement!"
Bea's brow furrowed.
"I was off gathering specimens," she said, "There were some very interesting plants that I needed to be examined."
Quentin chuckled. Like Em, he did not understand her work, and now that Arland had returned to his posting, there was no one here to help keep Quentin in line.
Maker knew; she certainly couldn't.
In the end, she would just have to deal with it.
Quentin was family after all.
He gave her a sly grin.
"Off for more gardening tips, eh?"
She pursed her lips. Wishing that Arland was still around to back her up, oh well…she thought…C'est la vie.
"Something like that," she replied.
She glanced around the house.
"Is Father home? I had hoped to give him a letter, it needs to be sent on its way quickly."
"Father is not here," Quentin answered, "that is what we wanted to tell you."
Bea's brow furrowed. Father had not planned to leave again until the end of the week.
Why the sudden change?
She did not have to wait long to hear the answer.
Her siblings were too excited to keep the news to themselves.
"This is what we needed to talk with you about," Em added, "One of the Chancellor's men stopped by, with an invitation for father to join him for a hunt, and to dine after, apparently."
Hearing this news surprised the youngest Glass.
Most Ferelden nobles did not like associating with Father, with any of the family truth be told. Most still clung to the idea that their father had far too many dealings with Orlais to ever be a true son of Ferelden. It was ridiculous of course, but still the stigma remained.
Now, the chancellor himself had taken an interest in Father, it was most surprising.
"It is nice to see that Father's work is finally paying off," she said.
Margaret and Quentin gave each other knowing looks, looks far too sly to be innocent.
Bea frowned.
The look on her siblings' faces reminded her a bit of the cat she had had when she was eight. Lord Mittens had always had that look on his face when he was about to drop a dead mouse at someone's feet.
"What?" she demanded.
Em giggled.
Quentin continued to smirk.
"What?!" Bea repeated.
Her brother chuckled.
"The Chancellor's messenger made a point to ask after you before he left," Quentin informed her, "apparently at the King's request."
Bea' eyes widened.
The King…he…he had asked…asked after her?
That was…surprising.
Margaret gave her a pouty look.
"I'm extremely jealous sister," she began, "I won't lie to you about that. The King of Ferelden asking after my little sister, and after so short a time."
Em smirked.
"You must have said something quite impressive."
Again Quentin chuckled.
"Perhaps she did more than that."
Bea gave him a dirty look.
"We talked brother," she informed him, "He was curious about my studies, that was it."
"And that was all?" Quentin added.
She glared at him; it was the best approximation of the look mother had given them when they were little.
"We. Just. Talked," she said flatly, "Ask Arland if you do not believe me. He would not have let me do anything…provocative."
Quentin and Em glanced at each other; they seemed to be considering what she had said.
Finally, her siblings nodded.
"That may be," Margaret added, "still…good work. You got Papa's foot in the door."
"Now he just has to take advantage of it," Quentin added.
Bea frowned.
She knew how…tenacious father could be when he set his mind on something. If he thought there was some way to use her meeting with the king to their advantage…
She shook her head.
Father wouldn't stop. She knew him well enough to know that.
She pushed past her siblings, a frown on her face.
"I have work to do," she said flatly, "Excuse me."
Quentin and Em let her pass, but as she climbed the stairs to her room, she could hear them gossiping.
She rolled her eyes.
Like a pair of old fish wives, she thought shaking her head.
She idly fingered the straps on her pack.
Suddenly her work did not have the same appeal it did a few minutes ago.
She sighed.
The thought of Father speaking with the Chancellor about her…it did not sit well with her.
She pursed her lips.
Perhaps it would be better if she left for Orlais tonight? Father would be angry, but it would likely make things easier, in the long run.
She stayed out of politics when even she could. The game was far too ruthless for her tastes. Academia was better, more predictable.
Father delighted in such schemes. She preferred to remain apart from them.
She sat her bag down and went to her desk. She looked at the pages she had written up last night.
She tried to remember what had been going through her head when she had written those words, trying to think of where best to plug in her new information, but again and again, her thoughts turned to Father and the Chancellor.
Relax her conscience chided; this probably has nothing to do with you. It is more likely that the Chancellor needed to barter more supplies from the Empire.
Yes, that was likely it.
They had no reason to talk about her, no reason at all?
She was just another scholar after all.
There were hundreds like her.
It was just Em and Quentin's over active imaginations. Father's meeting with the chancellor had nothing to do with her.
It made no sense, no sense at all.
They could not be talking about her.
It was madness.
She shook her head and returned to her work, she had too many things that needed to be catalogued today. She needed to focus on that.
"It's madness," she murmured.
Simply madness.
IOI
"Your Youngest has caught the King's attention. We should make use of that."
Ser Nathaniel Glass nodded. The two men were currently walking through the lush fields of one of Northern Ferelden's finest estates. The two nobles had been hunting for the last few hours and were finally on their way back to dine for the evening. The elven servants carried the two bucks they had caught while the Mabari warhounds used for the hunt padded along panting next to their handlers.
Ser Nathaniel adjusted the crossbow he had been using across his back. It had been a long time since any Ferelden noble wished to be seen with him. Many saw him as…too Orlesian for social company.
The noble shook his head.
He found himself thinking back to a conversation he had had with a dwarven trader back in Orlais, a good friend of his in fact. Every year, Gheren would make the long journey back to Orzammar, and every year he would return in a sour mood.
"Orzammar could not survive without surface trade," the dwarf had said, "They happily take our goods, yet expect us to wear a brand on our face and spit on us behind our backs for turning away from the stone."
"Hypocrites," he spat.
The elder Glass had commiserated with his friend. He was not the only one who was persecuted for his business dealings. Whether they liked it or not, Ferelden needed Orlesian goods right now. Goods that men like Nathaniel Glass could provide.
His contacts had not made him popular, but one made coin where one could.
Of course now, a new opportunity had presented itself.
He was not one to let such a thing pass him by.
He smiled at the Chancellor.
"My little Bridget is not an easy girl to predict, Your Grace," he said, "She only agreed to return to Ferelden to feed her curiosity, and now she has managed to do what all the other noble ladies that came to meet with our king could not."
He shrugged.
"It is a bit of irony, don't you think?"
"Yes," Eamon sighed, "The King is equally…hard to predict. The lad takes after his father more and more. Cailan, Andraste keep him, was more predictable in his moods, but Alistair is far more committed to his throne."
Glass nodded.
King Cailan's…moods were well known, even in Orlais. Rumor had it that Empress Celene had sought to bring Ferelden back into the fold by marriage. That she had been trying to convince Cailan to throw off Anora MacTir in favor of a new alliance. Whether that was true or not was a moot point now. Cailan was dead and Alistair too much of wild card to tempt the Empress further...
…Which of course, played better into Ser Nathaniel's plans.
"You had a hand in raising the King, did you not, Your Grace?"
"For a time," Eamon admitted, "King Maric asked me to look after the boy, but when my son was born…I…"
The Chancellor sighed.
"I could have handled the situation better."
"Being a parent is never easy," Glass sighed, "I have four children, and all different agendas."
He smiled slightly.
"How is your son, Your Grace? Is he adapting well to his new life?"
Eamon blinked. Most nobles out of respect for his position did not mention Connor. Glass knew that, which is why he said what he had.
Connor Guerein had been the Chancellor's pride and joy, to try and erase all trace of him no doubt hurt the father, no matter what the boy had done during the Blight.
"He…is…adapting to Circle life, or so I have been told. It will take time though; he is still plagued by nightmares about his…experience during those dark days."
Glass said nothing more; he did not let his glee show. The Chancellor had dominated their meeting for the most part, now he had managed to take back the initiative.
He did not intend to let it go.
"I have heard that your wife is with child again," he said hoping to get matters back on track, "May the Maker bless you with another son."
Eamon snorted.
"Another boy would be nice," he admitted, "But Isolde is hoping for a girl, I think. "
Ser Nathaniel chuckled.
"Good luck if that is what the Maker gives you," he smirked, "Politics is easier than daughters, trust me on that."
Eamon snorted in amusement.
"Speaking of daughters," the Chancellor began again, "I wish to know more about your youngest, Bridget, is it?"
"Yes, Your Grace, Bea…excuse me, Bridget, we simply call her Bea is well read young woman, she has been at University for…three years now I think?"
"Any suitors?" the Chancellor inquired.
"None, Your Grace," he said, "Bea had never been comfortable around people; she prefers her books to boys always has. There was a boy about two years ago, a Marquis' son, but that ended when the boy accepted and arranged marriage. They have not seen each other since."
"Hm," Eamon replied.
"They were never together," he added quickly, "My younger boy Quentin watched over his sisters while I attended to the family business. Bea's maidenhood remains intact, I am certain."
"Surprising considering the girl spent so much time in Orlais."
Glass chuckled, another point for His Grace. This trip was turning into a bit of a fencing match. It seemed that the Chancellor understood the game as well as any of the noble's in Orlais.
That was good, that made him predictable.
"Bea's scholarly pursuits have always been her first love. That is why wished to attend the University."
"But you would wish something else for her?" Eamon inquired.
Ser Nathaniel sighed.
"I want my children to find happiness," he said.
"And if you can profit from their happiness?"
"That is the way of the noble world, is it not, Your Grace?"
Eamon chuckled.
And so their dance continued.
IOI
They spoke little after that, at least until they had returned to the estate. There was no further discussion of business until over dinner that evening. The two men dined alone, and only after all the servants had left did they continue their discussion.
Eamon leaned back in his chair, a glass of Antivan Brandy in his hand.
"Tell me Glass," he began, "How do our Orlesian neighbors see our King?"
"They are curious of course; they know little of the King's pedigree, though they respect his skill in war. The recent Blight proved his quality beyond doubt."
"Do they favor a candidate to become his Queen?"
Glass shifted in his chair. He debated if it was in his interest to speak honestly.
In the end, honesty won, it was better that the Chancellor hear this from him then someone else.
"Grand Duke Gaspard is trying to convince his sister the Duchess Florianne to enter the fray. Celene knows of this of course, but so far as made no move to block it."
Eamon nodded.
"Such a marriage would likely bring in a very large dowry."
Perhaps, Your Grace," Glass shrugged, "But…personally, I think the Grand Duchess unacceptable for the role. Such a marriage could turn the Ferelden nobles fierce towards the king, and there is the duchess herself. She has spent her entire life in the Imperial Court; she would likely not function well here in Ferelden."
The Chancellor gave him a slight smile.
"Are you saying that as a native Ferelden, or as a noble father who wishes to put his own daughter forward?"
Glass chuckled.
"A bit of both, Your Grace, but even you must see the risk. An Orlesian warden now rules Amaranthine, on the King's order, no less. If he was to accept an Orlesian marriage, it could give the Loghain loyalists the excuse they need to try and oust the king."
He set down his wine goblet.
"None of us want that."
Eamon grunted.
"True enough," he agreed, "But that leads us to another problem. How are we going to convince the King and your daughter that it is in their best interest to pursue their…fraternization."
Glass smiled slightly.
So far, Eamon was dancing to the tune he was playing.
The Chancellor sighed.
"Cailan would not have needed any coaxing. He saw a beautiful girl he desired, he pursued her. Alistair is…a bit more awkward."
Glass again had to hide his glee.
Even better, he thought, Bea's…shyness with men would not put the king off if he was equally inexperienced.
He would need to speak to Margaret, convince her to give her sister some tips on how to get the King's attention.
His eldest daughter understood how to manipulate a man. She would be a great help to Bea in this matter.
"There is one other problem, Your Grace," he said shifting in his chair.
"Eh?" Eamon said.
Glass looked down at his plate.
"Bea intends to return to the University in few weeks."
"Unacceptable," Eamon said, "She needs to be seen. She should be brought to court."
"I agree," her father said, "I'm only saying that it will not be easy. She is very dedicated to her studies."
Eamon pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, thinking.
"Perhaps the king can offer her something, a reason for her studies to keep her here in Ferelden?"
Glass smiled again.
He would have suggested such a move himself, but it worked better when the noble he was trying to convince reached the point he wanted him to on his own.
It made it easy for what came next.
"Perhaps, Your Grace," he agreed.
Eamon gave him a cool look. For a moment, Ser Nathaniel feared he had overplayed his hand. He could not appear too eager.
The rewards were too great.
"You do not seem to mind the fact that we are planning to manipulate the King? That we are planning to manipulate your own daughter, your own flesh and blood?"
Glass shrugged.
"Sometimes a parent needs to push their child where they need to go, for their own good. If a bird did not push its hatchling out of the nest, it would never learn to fly."
He smiled slightly.
"By helping my daughter find more than her books, I'm helping myself and the nation of course."
Eamon snorted.
"Of course," he replied. He raised his wine goblet.
"A toast then Glass," he said, "to what comes next."
"To what comes next," Ser Nathaniel said raising his own.
"To the King!"
"To the King!"
"Long may he reign!"
"Long may he reign!"
"To the children," Glass said, "And the future they will bring!"
Eamon smiled.
"Yes, Ser Glass…to the children."