Chapter 25: Bread and Blood
It was called the Violet Hem, and it was one of the finest dining establishments in Kirkwall, built between the dwarven quarter and Viscount's Way, the Hem was the ultimate status symbol among the merchants and nobility.
Even for the lunch hour it was reservation only, nobles tried for weeks to find an open table, hoping to be seen and to see others. The Hem was also touted for its discretion; a nobleman could discuss anything he wanted within its walls without having to worry about the server slipping a few words to one of their enemies. The only server that had ever done this had turned up dead three days later that was the degree that the establishment's owners were willing to go to see to the safety of their noble clientele.
It was in this place that Daylen Amell always chose to dine for lunch. Being the Viscountess's brother did entitle him to some perks, and now that he served as both Hand of the Viscountess and Viceroy of the Alienage, his star had raised to the level that he never had to worry about reservations. The owners not only accepted his business, but welcomed it, gladly.
Daylen smiled at that, these people knew that it was wise to cater to the next ruler of Kirkwall.
He would remember that.
Typically he dined with Cousin Bethany. She liked the privacy, and the cuisine was nothing to sneeze at. Many an affair for the Alienage had been discussed over soup and salad here.
Of course, today, Daylen dined alone, well perhaps not totally alone, Fenris stood bodyguard for him today. Daylen was grateful for the elf's presence, not only did he intimidate people that Daylen wanted intimidated, but he was quite a good conversationalist, if not a little broody at times.
"It doesn't bother you watching me does it master elf?" he asked.
"The duties of a bodyguard do not disturb me young lord," the elf responded, "Not when I'm treated with respect."
Daylen had smiled.
"I will make a deal with you Fenris. The first time I disrespect you, you have the right to rip out my heart, is that fair?"
Fenris snorted a laugh.
"Are you sure you want to make that deal with me your lordship?"
Daylen had laughed.
He did actually enjoy spending time with Fenris. The elf's former master had been a fool. You treat someone like a dog; do not be surprised if you get bit.
If a kind word could assure a man's safety...why not?
Daylen intended for that to never happen to him. When he finally took his throne, it would be a day celebrated here in Kirkwall. He would be like Solona was now, not only respected and feared, but loved as well.
Daylen Amell intended to be…a man of the people.
His dear sister was good, but he would be better…
He would be greater!
He had come to learn several things about his sister in the last few months. The first was that she was not to be underestimated. Solona was a far better Viscountess than anyone had realized. She had won great respect for her dealing with the elves, not just the city born, but the Dalish as well. The fact that she had met with the Dalish Keeper alone had reassured many a nervous merchant. Trade flourished now that there was no concern for wild elves stealing the trade caravans blind.
Then there had been the Qunari situation, Solona's choice to face the Qunari Arishok leader to leader had elevated her position by quite a bit, some of those tales even had the Arishok bowing to her in respect by the end of that meeting.
Daylen chuckled at that, oh how Varric Tethras must have enjoyed spinning all those tall tales, but they served a valid purpose. It allowed the people to get to know Solona, to see why she not only wore the crown, but deserved it as well.
Many here in the Hem toasted to her good health, though that might also be because he was present, he could not say for sure.
Daylen normally would have sent his meal order in the morning, so that his food would arrive shortly after he did, but not today, today…he had two important meetings, he could afford to take his time, and play gracious for his two lunch dates.
If they decided to join him then they would be able to order at the same time, it would make them feel like they were on the same level as himself.
That never hurt when dealing with others.
IOI
Elren, one of the wealthiest elves in Kirkwall arrived first. He had been directed here after having spoken with Athenril, apparently there was something very wrong in the Alienage, something that the man wanted taken care of personally.
Daylen was more than happy to oblige him.
"Thank you for seeing me Lord Hand," the merchant began.
"It is no problem," Daylen said dismissively, "You have been very supportive of my sister's plans to turn the Alienage into something to be proud of, the least I can do is help you with your problem."
"You might not say that when you hear what I have to say," the elf frowned.
Daylen gestured for him to speak.
Elren sighed nervously. The youngest Amell was shocked, the poor man looked horrible, bags under his eyes, and a redness that suggested he had cried recently.
He hid it well behind his anger, but his pain was still quite visible. He did not wish to appear weak in front of the Viscountess's hand.
Daylen respected that.
"There is a killer in the Alienage ser," Elren said, "He only targets our children. We informed Captain Jeven and the man was arrested, but word has reached me that he has escaped again, or was set loose, and I…I fear…I fear he may have taken my daughter."
Daylen winced.
"I'm so sorry serah," he said, "Have they found the body yet?"
Elren suppressed a whimper, Daylen cursed himself.
That had been unwise.
"No…but my…my daughter…my….my Lia…she vanished a short time ago. I only found out about this killer because of the money I have donated to the city guard over the years. My contacts told me that the man was taken before the Magistrate and let go."
Elren's ears lowered in anger.
"I don't want this bastard arrested this time Serah, I want him dead! My Lia will not rest easily until this is so."
Daylen nodded, he understood where the poor man was coming from. Still, Guard Captain Aveline likely would not approve of him just offing this bastard.
"Have you taken this to the city guard?" he asked.
"THEY WON'T HELP! Despite all my coin I'm still just an elf to these shemlen! It is said that you have our best interests at heart Lord Daylen, I come to plead with you, please grant me justice!"
Daylen tapped his chin lightly, if everything that Elren said was true, then he had to act decisively, or risk losing the respect he had gained. He could send in his Winters, but…they were not subtle, and he rather this be handled delicately. He did not want Guard Captain Aveline to feel that he had stepped on her toes. He needed someone he could trust, someone they both trusted, that meant…
A sudden thought came to mind, making the youngest Amell smile.
He grasped the elven merchant's hand.
"I shall handle this for you," he promised, "I know someone who will jump at the chance to see justice is done."
The elf gave him a suspicious look.
"How much?" he asked.
"It is not what you think," Daylen smirked, "The man I'm sending will only require a few sovereigns for his work. I will require something far less, but infinitely more valuable."
The elf tilted his head quizzically.
"I do this in the name of trust," Daylen said, "Let the rest of your fellows know that what I do here is for the good of not only your family, but all the Alienage. A killer will not be allowed to prey on your children anymore. I will find out why this man was released, who was responsible, and deal with him most…painfully."
Daylen's smile became more predatory.
"I make this killer and his allies a gift to you Serah. The Amells will not forget the elven citizens of Kirkwall, and my door is always open to help you."
The man smiled gratefully.
"If you do this, then I will be in your debt forever serah," he said, "Our people will know the kindness of Amell the merciful."
Daylen grinned.
Amell the merciful, he liked that, it was a proper nickname for a Viscount.
The man left quickly, despite Daylen's offer to stay and dine, but that was okay, it gave him time to give Fenris the job of dealing with this murdering bastard.
"Do you mind helping with this?" he asked Fenris.
"No," Fenris said, "It seems like a worthy goal."
"Good," he nodded, "Then seek out my Cousin Garrett in the Hanged Man, tell him there is coin in it for him to help me, and offer him a bonus should he find out how this bastard escaped custody. Aveline may not like him stepping on her toes, but her fondness for my cousin should be an adequate shield.
"It will be done," Fenris nodded, "Shall I wait until you are done before going?"
"No need," Daylen replied, "Ginnis is outside, she will escort me back to the Keep safely."
Fenris snorted, he did not think much of Ginnis, or her Winters, but would obey his lord and friend's wishes.
He left to go find Hawke.
Daylen sat back with a pleased sigh.
This would truly work out for the best, Hawke would get some coin for his expedition, and Daylen would get the glory for helping the elves.
Everyone would win.
His food had just arrived when his second appointment of the afternoon came in the door. Daylen smiled in greetings.
"Serah Poole, welcome," he said warmly.
Angelique's Father sat down at the table. He did not seem to be in the best of moods.
Daylen hoped to change that.
"I was surprised by your invitation your lordship," the merchant said, "Most in Hightown think themselves above one such as me."
Daylen laughed dismissively.
"They are all fools serah," he said, "The wealth of your family eclipses many of nobles who frequent this place. You should be considered their equal here, not looked down upon because your family holds no titles."
He flashed the elder merchant a conspiratory grin.
"I can help you with that."
The older man leaned back in his chair.
"I'm listening?"
Daylen nodded. He swallowed hard, mustering his courage.
Ordering the death of a murderer that had been easy, he thought, speaking with Angelique's Father, far more difficult.
"I find myself love's willing slave serah," he confessed, "I desire your permission to court your lovely daughter, so that I may one day…make her my bride."
Poole sniffed.
"You think this is a surprise to me boy?"
Daylen's brow furrowed.
"You disapprove?"
"It would be a profitable match for my family. I do not deny that, but…my daughter is in mourning, a full year of mourning as is proper."
"Our wedding would not take place until I turn eighteen that is only two years away. Angelique will have her year of mourning and be ready to move on."
"And what will House Dumar say?" Poole asked.
Daylen leaned in closer.
"Marlowe Dumar's reign is fading," Daylen whispered, "He has taken ill since his son's untimely death, and I doubt he will be around in two years to say anything about this."
Poole sneered at him.
"You have been sniffing around my daughter since before the Satinalia ball," he said, "Do you think I do not watch my daughter's comings and goings?"
"Of course not, but I…"
"Did you kill Saemus so that you could have my daughter?"
Daylen was shocked with the man's bluntness, but he should have expected it.
Serah Poole was no fool, and he was ambitious enough to want a place within the nobility.
Did he truly care if Saemus was dead? The youngest Amell did not think so, but he was too careful to leap into anything that might harm Angelique or his business.
It was a commendable attitude.
"I did not kill Saemus," he said, "but I do not mourn his death as hard as I once would. Your daughter was too good for him ser. I would see her brought into the nobility."
Daylen's voice dropped even lower.
"If you embrace me as your son, I will make your daughter a Viscountess one day."
Poole snorted.
"Your place on the throne is not certain boy, if your sister has an heir."
"She will not."
His certainty surprised the merchant.
"What do you mean?"
Daylen glanced around, as if checking if anyone could hear him.
"I have it on good authority ser, that my sister is as barren as a brick. She will have no children, once I'm married and start bringing sons and daughters into this world; they will be the next rulers of Kirkwall. My sister, dear Solona, will have no choice but allow me to take my rightful place on the throne."
Poole shook his head.
"You are only sixteen; a lot can change in two years.
"I'm seventeen next fall, the same age my sister was when she returned home to take the throne. My rise will come shortly after I'm married."
You seem certain of this," Poole said.
"I am."
"Too certain if you ask me," the merchant sighed, "I will not let you drag my daughter down with you when you fall boy."
Daylen felt his temper start to flare.
How dare you! You will not deny me what is rightfully MINE!
He hid his rage well; patience was the key to any wise ruler.
He would not forget this affront, but he would wait until the appropriate time to avenge it.
Old men did not matter to him; he was the Lion of Kirkwall.
He would endure.
"Do you not see how advantageous this marriage would be?" he said, "Your daughter will be a member of the royal family. You will be able to take your rightful place on the Viscount's court. You will be nobility. Even if you doubt my destiny, that is a sound investment for any merchant. Surely a wise man as you must see that?"
Poole chuckled.
"You are a cunning little bastard Lord Amell, I will give you that, but cunning alone is not enough to take what you desire. You must be prepared to do what is necessary to ensure your victory. Tell me, are you ready to do what you must to have your…destiny?"
Daylen smiled wolfishly. Was he prepared to do what was necessary? Was he prepared to do what he must to ensure that he and his progeny would rule Kirkwall for the next thousand years?
Oh yes, he most certainly was.
Neria was already doing her part, ensuring that his beloved sister would not deny him what was his. She provided him with both information and other services. When the time came for the throne to belong to the Lion's son…
He would be ready.
"I will do what I must ser, he said, "Your daughter will have the life you have always dreamed for her, and we shall both profit from the union of our houses."
Poole pursed his lips in thought, he was weighing his options.
He gave Daylen a serious look.
"Will you protect my daughter?"
"I will."
"Will you guarantee her safety?"
"That I can't do," he confessed, "We are entering interesting times, but I can promise you that I will love and support her with all my heart, and if I may, your daughter enjoys the game too much to want to be completely safe."
"Tell me something I don't know," the old man sighed, "My little girl is a mystery sometimes…even to me."
He chuckled.
"Maker save you if you have any daughters," he said.
Daylen grinned, he could practically see the man's objections fading, greed and ambition were doing their work."
The youngest Amell offered his hand.
"Do we have a deal serah Poole?' he asked, "Do we have a deal…Father?"
A hint of a smile played across the old man's lips.
He took the young lord's hand.
"You must be discreet…son," he said, "My Angelique must have her full year of mourning, after that is done. Then you may begin your courtship in earnest."
Daylen's heart leapt.
Lord and Lady Amell, he thought, Lord Daylen Amell and Lady Angelique Amell!
Viscount Amell and his wife the Viscountess Angelique!
All his dreams were coming true!
He could not wait to tell his betrothed, to come to her chambers and offer himself to her completely.
The very thought filled him with heat and excitement!
Patience…he needed to be patient!
He reigned in his desire, hiding it from the world; it was not gone, but safely hidden for now.
Daylen Amell sighed.
It would be a very, VERY long year, but patience and discretion were words that he lived by.
They were both noble virtues, and he was nothing if not a nobleman…
He was a Viscount, a lion…
What else was there to say?