Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or a Song of Ice and Fire
Damion stood proudly, smiling as his nephew raised the home made, wooden cross spear he held. The child tried spinning the weapon between his fingers, only for it to fall.
"No showing off Daylen," Damion scolded him.
"Yes uncle," Daylen quickly picked up the toy and assumed his fighting stance.
"Remember to bend your knees a little, keep a tight grip," Damion advised him.
"And here I come," Daylen interrupted him, jumping and swinging his weapon into Damion's wooden sword.
Damion laughed as he and Daylen 'duelled', the peaceful Meadow around them.
It was a good dream of what could have been, before the end. Damion opened his eyes to the Westeros sky. The bodies of his defeated enemies lay around him. Blood poured from a cut on his forehead, from cuts on his shoulders and waist. Then there was the arrows, it was said even a single arrow could bring down the mightiest of warriors. It took many arrows to get Damion to stop. Slowly he got off of the floor, leaning on his spear for support. The village was safe, the murderers and rapists had fled. Finally he fell onto his back and sighed in relief. Staying true to his beliefs had been difficult, but it was worth it. He told Byran about Aristanna before they parted, she'd be taken care of.
'Raina, that red eyed man you saw in the flames, it was Daylen wasn't it?'
Blood loss and exhaustion took hold, filling him with the image of a fully grown Daylen. The young man put a hand to his left breast and bowed his head respectfully.
'Daylen, you will grow into a good man, a courageous man, a man who will always fight for what is right, Revka's pride, our pride, is not wasted!'
He raised his fist to the sky and smiled.
"Let...my...actions...speak...louder...than words!"
House Amell of Westeros
Chapter 12: Through the years (Westeros)
The Greyjoy rebellion ended with the arrest of the Ironborn. Euron was exiled, Victarion sent to the Knight's watch, and Balon bent the knee, submitted to the demands of King Robert Baratheon. In truth they were demands made by Tywin and Fausten, the two agreeing on the price Balon would pay for keeping his power. And that was why he knelt, to keep his power and his home. Fausten specifically requested that his son and daughter be present for that. They listened to the demands.
"The Ironborn will build ships suitable only for fishing, by law, its priority will be in growing crops. Lord Balon you have two choices, bend the knee and remain lord of the Iron islands under these laws, with the addition of your remaining children living as wards on the main land. Or join your brother in exile!"
Robert wanted to threaten the man with the chopping block. But Fausten made it very clear, offer exile, not execution. The plan he made to break the Greyjoys was crucial. Balon's choice would have no impact on his remaining children, Asha and Theon, if they saw that his only other choice was death. To their shock, he bent the knee.
Theon was sent to Winterfell to be raised as the ward of Ned Stark. Asha would live as a hostage under Stannis Baratheon, with the possibility of her becoming a servant of the Baratheons. One thing Stannis wouldn't do was waste her potential usefulness. Victarion took the black, Euron sailed away, Aeron turned to the drowned god and Balon remained the broken lord of the Iron islands. He had lost his first and second son (Maron was killed when Pyke was breached) and chose to abandon his remaining children, in favour of keeping what was his. Only under law, he had to turn his land into one that primarily fed itself. The Greyjoy, had to sow.
Fausten's strategy had been successfully carried out. Yet still, he did not consider it a victory.
He stood before Robert, Stannis, Ned and Tywin, some of the bodies of their men laid at their feet. Damion's own body was cast unceremoniously at Fausten's. He knelt, looking at the content face of his youngest.
"You have provided us with a victory, but not the reduced loss of life you provided us with at the trident. If anything, your son killed more of our soldiers than the Ironborn did," Robert explained.
"My boy, you finally found your honour," Fausten whispered.
"Look at your king when he addresses you," Stannis said.
"Your son assaulted our men," Tywin said.
"Really?" Fausten asked, standing and looking at the lords. "Because the people in those villages, the people my men found battered, some even raped and robbed of what was theirs, tell a different story. They tell of Lannister, Baratheon, even Stark men assaulting their homes. They speak of my son defending them," he explained, never once blinking or wavering in his defiant expression. "What is the penalty for thievery? What is the penalty for rape? You dismiss these possibilities? I expected better of you all, you should all be ashamed of yourselves!"
Despite the pressure it put on his back, Fausten picked up his son's body. Quickly, he was assisted by Byran and Ulrich, and soon after the Iron born villagers behind them.
"He was a knight, a true knight, do not degrade him for that!" Fausten said, before he truly turned his back to the king.
Stannis was about to speak when Robert raised his hand.
"Gods," he shook his head. "I need a drink!"
The gods had an odd sense of humour. Though Revka herself believed it fitting. It would have been too clichéd for it to rain. Instead the Meadow was filled with light, and it was fitting. Because that was what Damion had brought to people. The Amells had lost their heir, but gained a reputation and great friends. Damion had freed slaves in Essos whom joined the ranks of the Meadow citizenship. Adam would become game keeper and the primary hunter for the Amell family. The rest, willingly became staff and assisted in the construction of the 'Resolute keep'. Named so because of Damion's stand on the iron islands. There was plenty to celebrate about Damion's life, his daughter Aristanna was a welcome addition to the family. But still, it was natural to mourn his death. Dayk was brought back from the Tyrells and cried with his mother. Dayla held Aristanna's hand, embracing her as a sister. Revion though stood on his own, and he wasn't crying. Revka was too overcome by her own grief to worry. Fausten stood at the pyre prepared for Damion, looking out at the guests. Oberyn Martell had come, as well as Howland Reed, even Ned.
"A knight is sworn to valour, his heart knows only virtue, his blade defends the helpless, his might upholds the weak, his words speak only truth, his wrath undoes the wicked. These are the words of the old code, of knights whom swore allegiance not to kings or lords, but to a way of life that sadly is dismissed or even mocked," Fausten paused, taking a deep breath as his eyes went red. "In his final moments Damion spoke these words proudly, and lived up to them proudly. Even if it cost him his life, even if it would be looked down upon, even if it was a wasted effort...he lived by this code. Not here, NEVER HERE!" Fausten yelled. "His way of living was not wasted, his death was not without meaning. Do not build a monument or speak inflated stories of his life, remember it, remember him, the knight of the true code!"
With the flame runes on his lance, he lit the pyre. Stepping away from it, keeping himself obscured by it, Fausten let out a cry of anguish and fell to his knees.
"Maker, let it have meaning, let it have meaning or I will never pray for you again," Fausten said, his hands pressed strongly together.
He spoke the words of reassurance, but inside he cursed the Maker. No father should bury his child.
When Ned returned to Winterfell, he made a point to hold his children, his youngest Brandon and Arya the most. He didn't sleep that night, just looked up at the moon from the courtyard, thinking about the death of his friend. He also thought about the sacking of Pyke and king's landing, and they shared things in common, the victors abused the defeated. Those people whom hadn't even taken up arms against them in the first place.
"Ned," Catelyn appeared at his side.
"We achieved victory, but for many it wasn't," he said.
"Damion Amell's death still bothers you?" she asked.
"He fought against us, not on behalf of the Greyjoys, but the people of Pyke caught in the cross fire of our war," Ned explained.
"It was Balon and his brothers who started that war, not Robert, not you," Catelyn said.
"That doesn't change the fact that people still died, innocents died at the hands of my men. Something must be done, some decree made that protects them."
"What would you do?"
"I would have Robert decree that no man may steal that which belongs to another, even if it is war," Ned said.
"Then at least enforce it amongst your own men, spread it to the Northern lords as my father will for those in the Riverlands," Catelyn said.
"You are right, thank you for your wisdom. There is something else as well, Theon, Fausten told me that it is imperative that boy not seek to follow in his father's footsteps," Ned explained.
"We can't trust the Greyjoys."
Ned let out a chuckle.
"What is it?" Catelyn asked.
"That is what Fausten said too, trust but be wary of Theon Greyjoy, treat him as you would your own son, be patient with him and he may surprise you. But always remind him of what he witnessed that day, his father choosing power over family!"
There was no warm embrace between members of the Lannister family. Tyrion and Jamie though shared their own warm moment, thinking of how Revka had lost their brother, and how much they meant to one another. The King slayer drank wine with his brother and remarked on the old days, of diving off of the cliffs at Castlely rock, and their cousin Orson 'beetle smasher' Lannister. Later that night, as Robert drank and fucked his whores, laughing and forgetting the legend of Damion Amell, Jamie met with his sister. They shared their own brief embrace, before Cersei was left alone. She prepared ink and a quill, keeping a candle at her desk as she began to write out a letter.
To my dearest friend Revka
Though you know I cannot claim any great affection for my younger brother, if I lost Jamie, I could not describe the grief I would feel. No doubt it is the same grief you now feel for Damion. His death and your loss has filled me with grief as well. Know that I urged both my lord husband and father to seek justice, to punish the men responsible. But predictably Robert wishes only to remember the joy of the fight and not those whom were lost because of it. My father also has been equally dismissive, and whilst I hold no responsibility for that, I am sorry for it.
Yet, despite this tragedy I believe in a strangely inspiring way, it has driven you forward. Please do not take offence for my presumptions that even now, you are driving your family forward on its path to happiness, and already plotting how to outmanoeuvre the next obstacle in your path. That unwavering determination you possess, is but one of the reasons why I admire you.
I wish you all the luck in the future
From Cersei
Revka smiled, putting Cersei's letter away. The queen was right, Damion's death had not been wasted. Though Fausten was still in quite a deep depression, each of the Amells and their household moved forward. Dayla doubled her efforts to get Byran to train her, whilst Dayk began studying diligently. In some ways Dayk had changed the most after the funeral. He seemed less troubled, and braver now, needing Revka less and at least trying to be more independent. A popular rumour spread by the staff, was that Dayk would become the next family leader. There was still a belief that Revion was different in some way, that his mind didn't function the way others did. But Revka saw it differently. Revion mastered Bella's classes, could explain the process of farming and construction at a level that was the equivalent of an adult. He was struggling to connect with the children in the Meadow, and seemed calmer when with the adults, even adding to their conversations. One day, Revion requested something of Fausten.
"Can I be fostered with the Starks?" he asked.
It wasn't uncommon for noble children to foster their children to other families. This way they furthered connections with one another. Revka would never have her children betrothed to others unless they wanted to. It wasn't the request of a child either, there was something in the boy's eyes that told Revka he was serious, that he genuinely wanted to go, and that he was planning something. Revion's request was granted and he was sent to the Starks. But not all in the Meadow were happy with it.
"If he's allowed to study with the Starks, why can I not go and live with the Tyrells?" Dayk asked Fausten.
They were stood in the new great hall of the Resolute Keep, it was still as modest as the old hall. Though there was a mural above the hall, showing the history of the Amells in Westeros. Fausten's friendship with Aerys, bowing to the Baratheons, the formation of the Meadow and Damion's stand at Pyke. There was a grand table in the middle of the hall, a round table. Most nobility typically used rows of tables, where the greatest lord would sit at the head. But following the legends of the great knights, Fausten chose a round table. At least at the dining table and banquets, people would be equal. But for 'judgements' and meetings, Fausten would sit at a chair at the end of the hall. He sat, with this lancer beside him, the flag fluttering low. Fausten himself had paid little attention to the grooming of his beard and hair. His eyes also seemed lazy and tired, uninterested in what Dayk had to say.
"Live with the Tyrells?" he scoffed. "Revion will not be going away for the rest of his life, he is only going to learn from the Starks. It may take a few years, but he will return to the Meadow," Fausten explained.
"That isn't why you sent him there, you sent him there because you knew he was struggling to connect with the children here, you knew that he had made friends with the Stark children," Dayk retorted.
"As you have made with the Tyrell children," Fausten brushed his eyebrows as he spoke, already frustrated with the conversation.
"You said we are at our strongest when we stand together, that applies to having as many allies as we can. The Tyrell lands are rich in grain, the family itself is much like us, they cherish their bonds with one another, they're not like the Lannisters waiting to stab each other in the back, or the Starks. The Starks who appear warm to one another, but what about Jon, that bitch Lady Catelyn treats him so coldly, for something that wasn't even his fault. They're the worst kind of people to teach Revion about his feelings!"
"LET ME MAKE THIS CLEAR!" Fausten yelled, standing up and looking down at his grandson. "Revion is not going there to make friends, he is going to learn from the Starks about governance, nothing more! Now I will hear no more of the Tyrells, return to your own studies."
Dayk kept his head low as he walked away. The next day, training with Darius he held his head high, watching Dayla and Byran across the field, their own training much more intense. Darius trained him the traditional way, parrying, lunging etc. Byran taught Dayla to endure, to take a punch from a bigger opponent, how to fight viciously but to reserve energy. The boy got knocked down and Darius stopped the training, seeing that he wasn't focused enough.
"If you aren't focused during training, you won't be focused when fighting," Darius said.
Darius stopped teaching him for a while. So Dayk was focused utterly in books, in speaking with the business owners and guard commanders. He wanted to learn about leadership, and be a leader as he was expected to be. So he read about the histories of great leaders, analysed the mistakes they made. Aerys the mad king, Maegor the first who was too cruel, Tytos Lannister whom was too kind and dismissive, even Aegon the great builder of the seven kingdoms was a flawed man who built a flawed system that would have crashed down. This Dayk learnt not from his books, but Revion.
"His conquest worked because of his dragons, once they lost them, the Targaryen dynasty had nothing else to keep its power," this was the last thing Revion said to his brother before he left.
At first Dayk believed, that like others, there was something wrong with Revion. But after being given that advice from his brother, he came to believe he was just as wise as any adult.
If not wiser.
Though it was a tale for another time, Revion did not stop with the Starks.
The sound of cutting wood and stomping nails, filled the meadow. Sweating men carried piles of logs and wood to where they were building. Elves, men and dwarves, worked together to build. Supervising them were four men and a woman. From Westeros there was Septon Ray, though not dressed in priestly robes, the dark haired Ray wore working clothes, the seven pointed star medallion around his neck, the only evidence of his faith. Beside him, holding the blueprint, crouched for their third man, was father Thomas. A man of the chant of light, he wore the brown robes of his faith, with the sunburst pattern on his chest. The man he crouched for was a dwarf, formerly of Orzammar, he wore working clothes similar to Ray, his name was Vorkin, the silver bearded dwarf. Then, bare foot and proud was Elegos, an elf whose face was painted with Dalish markings. Finally, there was Bella, dressed in her white and grey robes.
"We should make the foundation of it from stone, less likely to collapse if its burnt," Vorkin said.
"We're not planning to be involved in a war are we master smith?" Bella asked.
"You never know sister Bella," Elegos said.
"We should be prepared, I can already see a good few people disagreeing with this," Ray said.
"And you Ray?" Thomas asked.
"The seven, the old gods, the Maker, the creators, or the lord of light, I don't know which one is real or true, maybe they're all wrong, or maybe they're all the same fucking thing,"
"Language brother," Elegos chuckled.
"What I do know is that there is something greater than us, it shouldn't be one of the reasons we fight, it should be what unites us," Ray explained.
The other four smiled and continued their work. When they heard the thundering of hooves, they turned to the riders. It was a carriage, one escorted by sell swords, and bearing the marks of the seven pointed star.
"Just in time, the High Septon comes down from the capital," Ray said.
"I met the man, can you believe he eats a meal for each of the gods, seven fucking meals whilst his flock starves," Thomas made no effort to conceal his anger.
"Language Thomas, besides we shouldn't believe hearsay, but rather find out for..." Bella paused as the carriage door opened.
Slowly, excruciatingly so, a man in over decorated robes climbed out of the carriage. Bella's face shifted to one of disgust, even her face changed, reflecting her peasant background.
"Fucking hell, he's fatter than fat, obeser than obese, seven fucking meals," she ranted.
"Yep, seven fucking meals," Ray muttered, putting on a smile and bowing as the High Septon approached.
The Septon stopped in front of the four, taking a few deep breaths.
"Brother Ray," the man smiled at his fellow Westerosi.
"High Septon, what brings you to the Meadow, and with such well armed men?" Ray asked.
"I do not come here to engage in violence brother Ray but your friends," the Septon's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the three from Thedas. "A good and peaceful two years have passed since the Amells came to this land, since they settled and pledged allegiance to King Robert. Do they adopt the ways of the Northern old gods, or have they fully converted to the ways of the seven?" the Septon asked.
"Each man and woman of this land adheres to the principals of the gods of their ancestors, we have never questioned that," Bella said.
"Young lady I am addressing a man of the cloth, a man whose responsibility is to properly guide these people," the Septon said.
"I am also a woman of the cloth, in Thedas women are the clerics."
"You are not in Thedas."
"The Maker is not bound by borders," Bella retorted.
"My people carry their gods with us, and Fausten has welcomed us into these lands," Elegos said.
"Indeed, but you are not welcome in any other place are you?" the Septon asked, a sly smirk spreading across his face.
"We're ignored for the most part, so long as we move on quickly."
"That can easily change though can't it?"
No one questioned that there was a threatening tone in the fat man's voice. A spear suddenly flew past the Septon's cheek, imbedding itself on the ground. The man screamed in shock and fear, searching for the heathen peasant that threw the weapon. But he found no peasant, only the scarred lord Fausten Amell, who stampeded down the hill and took the Septon by the collar of his robe.
"Threaten one of my own again and I will not miss," he said.
"You are threatening a man of god," one of the sell swords said.
"I don't threaten, I promise, I promise that if this man makes it his mission to disrupt our work...then the whispers in the cities will become yells. Whispers that the supposed holy man feasts every day whilst the people he serves starve. Whispers that he fills his pockets with coin, to turn the other cheek or slander one house or another. Whispers that he beds whores and particularly craves the flesh of young girls...I'm no expert yet on the people of Westeros, but I imagine they will be quite angry, and one day when you are brave enough to walk the street, they'll tear your fat body apart," Fausten explained.
There was a look of pure terror on the Septon's face. Fausten however slapped the man's cheek, picked his spear up from the ground, and turned away.
"Are you not at all curious at what we are making?" he asked.
The Septon shook his head, and made his way back to his carriage. Fausten watched the heavy carriage ride off, followed at a slower pace by the Sellswords. He noted the decorations on the carriage, how fortified it was, all of the gold on it and the heavy seven pointed star seal. It was an incredibly heavy carriage, greater work for the horses, especially with their passenger.
"Elegos, did you finish that Ironbark carriage?" Fausten asked.
The Dalish elf nodded his head. Ray and the others smiled as they shifted their attention away from the building work, towards this new project Fausten had composed. Spare bags of grain, seeds and potatoes were loaded onto the Iron bark carriage. As the men prepared it, Bella dressed into grey and white robes. They were light and just the right mixture of dirty and elegant, enough to be acceptable to both lowborn and highborn. From the guard barracks came Sir Byran, carrying his sword over his shoulder.
"They'll need an escort to king's landing, especially if you plan to cut through the forest," he said.
"You know me too well old friend, let us make it so," Fausten said.
Roland provided two of his best and strongest horses. Byran's own horse was a black stallion, as battle tested as he was. Elegos prepared his own Halla to ride, and the journey began. Ray and Bella took the carriage, waving to the people they passed. It was a long journey to the capital, but they required fewer stops. They slowed, to pass food off to small villages they passed.
"Maker bless you all, and the new gods and the old, let the creators gift you with a bountiful harvest," Bella said, loudly and kindly so that all would hear her speak those words.
For whilst the Septon whined and complained, and stuffed his face at disreputable taverns, Bella did her duty. She took confessions, blessed others, and made promises to return and do it again. Onward they rode, until they reached their destination, the fabled city of King's landing. Riding through the street, Bella and Ray threw food to people they passed. People looked at Elegos's majestic Halla in awe as he passed them. With their carriage empty, they moved to the Red keep, passed the inspection of the guards and into the throne room.
A couple of years had passed since the Greyjoy rebellion, and Fausten noticed how large Robert had become. Jon Arryn had aged, perhaps more from his duty than the years.
"Hail Robert Baratheon, first of his name, king of the Andals and the first men, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. I am Bella Cleric of the chant of light, thank you for welcoming us into your halls."
"Your grace, I thank you as well, I am Septon Ray of the new gods."
"And I am Elegos of clan Mythran, a craftsman and follower of the creators."
"An elf in court," Cersei heard people whisper, she was glad the locals of the Meadow heard it as well.
"Wait, I think I know you, you served Fausten didn't you?" Robert asked.
"I didn't your grace, he asked for my help, feeding villages that had suffered because of the war effort, and I gave that help. In exchange my people have settled in the forests surrounding the Meadow. You see your grace we Dalish do not stay in one place for too long, we are on a journey you see, a search for relics from our forgotten past," Elegos explained.
"And your point?" Robert asked.
"There are ruins in the forest regions across Westeros, I humbly ask that you make it a royal decree for us to explore these regions, with no harassment," Elegos said.
Robert leant forward as Arryn whispered in his ear. They whispered for a few minutes, what they said made Cersei smirk, and Bella didn't like that. She knew the bitter look in Cersei's eyes, an almost constant look that had robbed her of beauty. That also meant that Bella understood the kind of person Cersei was.
"There will be no royal decree, we will send Ravens however with this news. If you venture into another lord's land, it will be up to that individual lord whether you are allowed to remain in their lands or not," Jon Arryn explained.
"I thank you your grace, lord hand," Elegos bowed and stepped back.
Both Bella and Ray stepped forward, again bowing their heads.
"Your grace, Bella and I are both clerics of differing religions, some think we should be opposed to one another. In the Meadow we have begun construction of a temple, not to the New gods or the Maker, but to all gods. This is a place where followers of the old and new, the maker and creators can gather and pray," Ray explained.
"Recently we were visited by the High Septon, his intention was to intimidate us into stopping," Bella continued for Ray.
"Your grace, a moment please," Varys said.
He walked to Jon and Robert's side, whispering in their ear.
"We have information that confirmed that the High Septon hired mercenaries, though it is not uncommon for when a holy man travels," Arryn explained.
"Is it also common for High Septon's to make veiled threats against people whose religion differs from him?" Bella asked.
"The High Septon has served the realm and the gods faithfully for years, through even the dark times of the mad king. I am sure he simply wished to preserve the faith," Cersei said.
"And I respect him for that your grace, I simply came here to serve, the gods, the people and the crown, I do not wish for tragedy to be the result of ill informed decisions," Bella explained.
"What do you mean?" Robert asked.
"The High Septon, believed we were making a temple in dedication to our gods. We tried to explain to him, but he made what my lord assumed was a threat. Lord Fausten acted passionately, aggressively yes, but also passionately in defence of people under his protection. He did not hurt the Septon, he allowed the Septon to leave, and had immediately sought to rectify any harm he may have done."
"We came here not to promote one religion, but coexistence of all religions, I do not seek converts, that is why there are equal texts and symbols from all the gods in this temple we build. What I wish is to spread wisdom, the wisdom that the chant and the gods offer. I wish for the High Septon to carry on serving his gods, the realm and the crown, and for high born and lowborn to seek wisdom wherever they may find it."
"That is all my lords, ladies, my king, my queen," Bella bowed her head and stepped back respectfully.
Robert nodded his head as he stood.
"Build your temple, any consequences will be on you," the king said.
The Meadow opened its doors to people on pilgrimage. Dalish from multiple clans looked at the ruins in the forest. Stork and Elegost excavated several artefacts, tablets that contained excerpts of histories forgotten by Westeros.
"My understanding of the ancient Elvish language is as good as the average Dalish. But I think this excerpt makes reference to an old society. An age of heroes," Stork explained and Elegos walked to his side, looking over the tome.
"It looks like people tried to make this the ideal world before Lord Amell. It makes repeated references to quick children and forest children, but it uses the term Falon, friend," Elegos smiled.
He didn't share the hatred of humans some of his people did. Armed with this knowledge though, Fausten sent letters across Westeros, to Thedas itself. The intention had been to fill people with the knowledge that not everywhere in the world saw people warring with one another. Stork wrote of the discovery in the chronicle he was writing, of the Amell history in Westeros. A few more years passed, reputations grew, relationships grew and the people grew. The Meadow and the Amells of that land became as great as the kingdoms of Westeros. Mills were built, fenced farms, the village grew into a town and settlers formed villages on the Meadow. Fields spread across the once baron land and the happiness of the people spread.
Happiness eventually returned to the Amell family too. After nine years, Fausten smiled at himself in the mirror. He hadn't aged too terribly, and many suspected his capability as a warrior wasn't over either. He put away his razor, having finished trimming his greying beard and hair. The lord of the Meadow looked out of his window at the land he had built and the banners travelling down the hills.
"Golden roses, suns through spears, lizard-lions, bears, trout, mermen, eagles, horses, stags and lions. We've come so far, this is our home now, Aerys," Fausten whispered.
He turned to his mirror, checking his beard work a final time. But what he saw next, haunted him, and made him question his own sanity. Through the reflection of the mirror, he saw him. Not the mad king he remembered, but the prince he had befriended. He blinked, and then Aerys was gone.
Next Chapter 13: Through the years (The Circle)
A little look at some of their events through the years. It is now roughly a few months before significant events in Thedas, and maybe a year (or two) before significant events in Westeros.
Next time we return to Thedas, for Daylen flash forwards