Gifts
Leonie gazed down at Duncan and smiled tenderly, stroking his temples with her fingertips. His dark lashes smudged his cheekbones and she ran a gentle finger along his full lower lip. He smiled faintly and then his breathing deepened as he drifted off. She dropped a light kiss on his brow and then quietly dressed and left the room. Her stomach was commanding her to eat and she could no longer ignore it, for all that she would prefer to be napping with Duncan.
Entering the informal dining room, she saw that Riordan and Renfrew were chatting as comfortably as two old friends. They looked up and Riordan gave her a broad wink.
"Ready to eat, lass? he smirked and Leonie felt the heat of a blush fanning her cheeks. She busied herself with loading a plate full of food, ignoring him.
Once she had taken a seat, she turned to her uncle. "Is everything arranged, Uncle Renfrew?"
"It is. The crate arrived two weeks ago and I've hidden it away. Nila suspects nothing. Ceres has taken her for a walk in the gardens."
"Perfect. I know Mama will enjoy this but I suspect Duncan will want to beat me. He hates surprises of any kind."
Riordan laughed. "There's no way I'd risk his temper, but I warrant you'll get away with it. For some unknown reason he has a soft spot for you," he complained.
"Soft spot or no, his expression will be worth it," she said with a chuckle. "As long as you don't give it away and spoil the whole thing."
Riordan shot her a look of feigned hurt. "I'm the soul of discretion, Lion," he protested but his irrepressible grin belied his words.
"Peacock blue wrapper," she said only and at this Renfrew, who had watched the exchange with a good humored smile, gave her a questioning look.
"I shall only say that discretion is not really his strong suit."
"I'm sure there is quite a story there but as it doesn't seem likely you'll tell me, I'll take you out to the barn so you can open your crate. I'm rather curious about what's in there."
"As am I," Riordan chimed in.
Leonie rose, stuffing the last of her buttered roll into her mouth, and took the arm her uncle offered. When they stood before the crate, Renfrew set about opening it. He set the lid aside and she sank down, pushing aside the straw packing before proudly displaying its contents.
Riordan let out a low whistle. "I've never seen anything like it," he said finally.
"Nor have I, Leonie. Where did you find it?" Renfrew asked, bending lower to study the craftsmanship.
She had first seen it in an old illustrated manuscript in Celene's personal library and known instantly that it would be perfect for Duncan. For three months she had worked with artisans to have it completed in time for their reunion. She had written to Vandhar, who then graciously contacted his Dalish clan's crafters. She had created sketches from the illustration and they had been easy enough to draw, but discovering what materials to use had been difficult and time consuming. Celene had even helped with the materials, fascinated by the unusual design, her romantic nature captivated by the notion of such a gift. She had her best armorsmiths assist Leonie. The result was worth the effort and, judging by their reactions, Renfrew and Riordan thought so as well.
"It is a copy of the armor worn by Andalus, a Rivaini pirate. He plundered the coastal waters from Alfsaana to Seere and was a notorious rake and brilliant sea captain, from all accounts. And quite handsome, if the illustration of him is any indication," she explained. "And of course Duncan bears some resemblance to him." She smiled up at Riordan.
"When Andalus saw the destruction of his beloved Rivain by the Qunari, he turned his ship west, leaving behind his treasures and fought with great distinction at the Battle of the Nocen Sea in 7:23 Storm. Accounts say he singlehandedly destroyed four Qunari warships. He is quite a hero amongst the Rivaini people. They call him the Pirate Warrior. Both the name and armor just seem to suit Duncan, do they not?"
"Indeed lass," Riordan agreed with a grin. "And you're spoiling him rotten," he added with a wink. Leonie stuck her tongue out at him.
Once Renfrew secured the barn door, Leonie removed each piece of armor for the men to inspect. The cuirass was deeply etched silverite. It was lightweight and flexible as the underpinning was dragonbone, the silverite just a thin overlay. The vambraces, pauldrons, greaves and sabatons were of the same material and delicately etched as well. The arming jacket and leggings was soft, supple buckskin, made by Vandhar's Dalish clan. There were two overskirts that took the place of surcoat, tassets and faulds. The first skirt was of the same buckskin as the arming jacket. The main overskirt was made of two layers of halla hide and between those layers was a thin layer of ironbark. The skirts were trimmed in bands of silverite. It was, in Leonie's opinion, as unique and beautiful as the man who was to wear it.
"Do I want to know how you got the measurements?" Riordan asked, fingering the various belts and accoutrements that went with the armor set.
Leonie gave an embarrassed laugh and her cheeks reddened. "You do not. Let us just say there are several men in Val Royeaux who blush whenever they see me coming," she admitted sheepishly.
Both men laughed at her admission and then they packed the armor back into the crate, but not before Leonie extracted a small, carved chest. She opened it and took out a gold locket. Opening it, she held it up. Riordan took it and for a minute, his perpetually happy expression faded, replaced with one of sorrow. "Ah, lass, it's a good likeness of Balfour."
Leonie rested her hand on his, comforting both of them with the touch. "I found a painter who specializes in miniatures so I brought Papa's portrait to him and he fashioned this. He makes Papa look wonderful, does he not?"
Renfrew examined it next. "She misses him a great deal. I know she will appreciate this, Leonie. I try to introduce her to other men but she doesn't really seem interested. She has friends from her youth that still live here but Nila hasn't seen many of them since she moved back and I haven't pushed it. Perhaps I should have. She and Bann Roan Gilmore of Hunter Fell used to be very close."
"I doubt you would have been able to push it, Uncle Renfrew. Mama is an extraordinarily stubborn woman. But perhaps it is time to remind her that she is still young, yes?"
Leonie surreptitiously examined her mother, seeing the first strands of silver in the dark hair, the light mesh of lines at the corners of her eyes, the grooves around her mouth. And yet, she remained beautiful. She was surprised that her mother had not remarried. Leonie had expected her to go back home and fall in love with one of the neighboring banns. But life here agreed with her as she appeared, if not happy, at least content.
They were seated once again in the informal dining room, all nattering away, trying to cover the past year all at once. Duncan was on her left, holding her hand as if he still couldn't believe she was sitting beside him. Her mother was on her right and she and Leonie kept talking and crying and laughing.
Dinner was a noisy, boisterous affair. Leonie caught her uncle's eye and smiled her thanks. He had graciously opened his home and warmly welcomed them all, had fallen in with Leonie's plans without hesitation and she was thankful for it.
The meal was almost over when Riordan stood. Raising his goblet, his expression serious, he said, "To our brothers, absent but never forgotten. Someday we shall join you," he said quietly. They all rose and silently drank to the toast, a long standing tradition amongst them.
Leonie glanced at Renfrew, sitting at the head of the table and nodded when she caught his eye. With a whisper to the servant behind him, he stood up as the dining room doors opened. Two men came in carrying the crate and placed it beside Duncan, who was looking at it with puzzled suspicion, as if expecting it to open and darkspawn to pour forth. Leonie watched, trying to hide a giggle.
She stood up and raised her goblet. "To my beautiful mother, Nila Parnell Caron and to my handsome Rivaini pirate, Duncan, we all bid you a felicitous birthday. I add a wish for a joyous year, and a thank you for allowing us to share in your respective birthdays."
"So say you, Leonie Caron, so say we all!" Ceres cried and raised his goblet. Riordan and Renfrew repeated the cry before the four of them toasted to both Nila and Duncan, who were wearing identical expressions of surprise.
"I know I am a week late with my birthday wishes, Mama, but as I am a week early with my birthday wishes for Duncan, I am actually right on time, am I not?" Leonie said with a smile. She bent and kissed her mother's cheek and deposited the small carved box in front of her.
"The large present is for Duncan, as he, like most men, believes bigger is better," she added with an impudent grin and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, trying to look stern and disapproving but she saw the gleam in his eye and knew he was touched.
"Well, for Makers sake, open them," Ceres urged impatiently, sitting back down and grinning.
Leonie watched a bit anxiously as her mother slowly opened the box, hoping that the miniature of her father would not cause painful memories to stir in her mother's heart.
"Oh Leo, it's perfect," her mother breathed, taking out the locket and opening it. She promptly burst into tears and Leonie knelt down, hugging her.
"Mama, please do not cry. I - I can take it back, I did not want to cause you pain," Leonie whispered, feeling hot tears sliding down her own cheeks. She was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. How could she not have known this would cause her mother pain.
"No, no, Lion, it's such a lovely likeness. I couldn't be happier with it," her mother responded through a shower of tears. "Now help me with the clasp, child, and know that I am crying because I'm happy."
Renfrew came over and laid a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder.
Duncan's first reaction would stay with Leonie for the rest of her days. He was like a young boy opening gifts on Feastday, his face shining with an incandescent joy she had never seen before, but it lasted for no more than a wink of an eye before he once again wore his usual composed expression. She wondered if he had ever been given gifts as a child and the thought that he had not gave her a sharp pang. She sank down beside him as he ran a reverent hand along the curve of the breastplate.
"Tell him about the pirate, Leo," Riordan urged with a grin.
Duncan looked at her and she saw that his cheeks were ruddy and his eyes were glinting with tears that he quickly blinked away. Or perhaps she had only imagined it. But it was that joy in that unguarded first moment of opening his gift that she would always treasure.
After much encouragement and teasing, he tried it on, Leonie helping him. As she was strapping on the pauldrons, she told him about Andalus, the Pirate Warrior. When the last belt was cinched, the result was just as she had expected. He looked every bit the pirate warrior and she fell in love with him all over again.
"It fits very well, Lion. How did you get the correct measurements?" Duncan inquired, rolling his shoulders and flexing his hands to test the fit.
"As I told Riordan earlier, you truly do not wish to know. But I may have a bit of a reputation for spontaneous molesting of strangers now," she admitted with a grin.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, whispering, "Thank you, Lion. I'll wear it proudly."
"You are not to stay, Leonie Caron. It is not yet your time to be here."
She stared at him, noticing the slight changes to his features. He nodded, and she saw that his face, more human looking than before, was almost a patchwork of new skin bleeding in with the old and none of it rotted and twisted like darkspawn.
"You will never be human, no matter how hard you try, creature," she whispered but the fear was bubbling up in her, rising to her throat.
"I am neither human, nor darkspawn, Leonie Caron. One day they will say the same of you. That is my gift to you."
And the fear that was bubbling in her throat rose out of her in a terrified scream.