Chapter 25: What Really Matters
Solona learned much during the summit between Orlais and Ferelden.
She spent as much time as she could with both delegations. Alistair and Celene both had their own lessons to teach her, even if they did not realize it.
Alistair she had come to realize was not what the nobles around her said he was. He was a bit of a soft-touch when it came to ruling, but the people under him respected his decisions. Both Bann Teagan and Aedan did not try to undercut his decisions during the negotiations. He was far from the puppet that the rumor mill portrayed him to be. He might not have wanted his throne originally, but he seemed to be comfortable enough with it now.
As a former Templar and Grey Warden, Alistair understood what it meant to lead men in war, and what was the rebuilding of Ferelden if not a war? Loghain and Howe still had loyalists among the nobles, men and women who would happily take up the banner against the king if he let them. Fortunately, he had Aedan and several other loyal advisors to counsel him. It likely kept those wolves from his door.
It was a sense of being that the Viscountess could sympathize with.
Celene was the opposite side of the spectrum, she loved the power she wielded, and played the game in the way only a master could. Solona did her best to remain neutral, but was not above coming to the King's rescue if it looked like Celene was going to trip him up in one of her webs.
She had to admit, the empress was a master of the long game, and it had likely served her well in keeping her court from dictating policy to her. She continued to advance Orlesian interests while at the same time touting herself as a champion of knowledge and the arts.
Both Celene and Alistair agreed that they did not want a war. Alistair knew that Ferelden was not yet ready to face the empire again, and the Empress was looking for new ways to gain what she wanted from Ferelden. In this, Alistair seemed to be in a better position than Celene. The Empress's games had kept her nobles in check for a long time, but…she was starting to run out of options.
The Orlesian nobles still expected Celene to choose one of them to be her lord consort. The longer she chose to wait the more tenuous her grip on the throne became. Solona suspected that she knew this, but continued on the same path anyway.
The Viscountess's mind drifted back to those two years before she had taken up with Sebastian, her mother advising her to find a match and take up a husband. She loved Sebastian, make no mistake, but had she not found love, she would have had to find a lord just to maintain control. If she had not, Daylen would have not had to work very hard to push her off the throne, especially when he married Angelique.
A wry smile came to Solona's face.
In hindsight, she knew that to be true, but would she have done the wise move back then? Daylen's rebellion had stripped away some of her naiveté, she was far from the girl that had taken the throne all those years ago.
From what she knew, Celene was alone in her palace, her parents were dead and none of the Valmont family stood with her, as far as she knew. The Empress's cousins were not close to her, they were rivals sniffing after her throne. She had only her champion and her servants.
It was a dangerous position to be in to be sure, not that she did not have her own family troubles of course.
Bethany had been extremely unhappy about her decision to bring Daylen's daughter into the keep. The baby was being cared for by the elven nurse that she had been captured with, but still…Bethany did not like the fact that anything or anyone close to Neria and Daylen were that close to them.
The night after they arrived, she had pulled her cousin aside. The baby, Angie was her name, would remain here, as a valuable hostage. She did not think that Neria would be eager to try anything extreme knowing that her child was being cared for in the halls of the keep.
Bethany's eyes had narrowed, she did not think it right that the Amell's give such succor to an enemy, even if it was a baby.
Solona had sighed.
She reminded her cousin that this was not the first time such an arrangement had been made by House Amell. After all, when the Threnhold dynasty had fallen, Viscount Aristide had taken pity on one of the children of that family, he had taken the boy in, first as a hostage, and later as a ward and trusted guard.
The Viscountess smiled.
That decision had worked out well for Bethany, she reminded her; after all, she had ended up marrying that boy.
Her cousin had not been pleased with that comparison, telling her that it was not fair.
Solona nodded, it was not fair, but it was necessary.
Perrin Bradley had been a good man. He had been raised by the Amell's to be a good man, and a loyal one.
Why not take the same opportunity here, to turn a possible adversary into an ally?
It was simply good business.
Bethany had returned to her duties after that, in her pursuit of Neria, she had neglected the Alienage for far too long. The elves needed to be reminded that they had not been forgotten. Plus, her cousin was now barred from the hunt being that the seekers were now directly involved. Gray, Fenris, and her Tevinters kept Bethany's secret, but the seekers would not be that understanding.
No, it was better that her cousin remained here, and leave the hunt to Byron and his people. She had responsibilities, both as an Amell and as Viceroy to the Alienage; the elves needed both her help, and her advocacy.
The Viscountess had remained true to her promise to Athenril that there would be no retaliation against the elves for their involvement with Daylen's regime. No formalized retaliation anyway, Aveline was being kept busy keeping overzealous nobles from turning on successful elven merchants in the city.
She also had begun to receive reports of an increased Qunari presence within the Alienage. The Tamassran that had accompanied the Arishok was often seen near the Alienage.
If the woman was fishing for converts, things could get messy when the Qunari finally left…
…If and when they left.
IOI
The week of the summit passed quickly. Beyond the city the seekers continued their hunt for Neria and her allies. Anders once again checked on the progress of Solona's pregnancy, she was so heavy with child now.
The healer advised that this summit would be the last of her political entanglements for a while. It would not be long until she gave birth. The time had come for her to settle in and prepare for that event.
So when she was not down with the Fereldans and Orlesians she was up in her quarters reading reports and approving new projects for the city.
It was on one of these days that Leandra came to see her.
Daylen had made a request of her.
It was something that she needed to answer.
IOI
Leandra had gone down to visit him, as she had many times over the last few months. In all the time that she had been doing this, she had gotten use to Death's Hand's various moods. Usually, they stayed bounced between manic, angry, or morose acceptance of his plight, but that was not the case today.
She arrived to find him strangely nervous. He kept his altered arm close to him, not wishing to draw attention to it. He thanked her no less than three times for her visits and the books.
For Leandra this was not strange, she had seen Daylen like this before, but it had been a long time.
For the moment, he reminded her of the boy she had met when they had first came to Kirkwall, the boy who had come to her for advice when he had first been considering trying to court Angelique Poole.
For the moment, Death's Hand was gone.
He was simply Daylen Amell again.
"Is she well cousin?" he asked.
"Is who well lad?" she had responded.
He lowered his eyes.
"My…my daughter…I…I have heard word that she has been brought to the keep. Is…is she well?
The noble woman had been surprised to hear this; she had not realized that Daylen had access to such knowledge.
He chuckled.
"I still have some people willing to speak to me," he reminded her, "They would never act against my sister, but that does not mean that they would not be willing to provide me with information of note."
She nodded slightly.
"Little Angelique is well," she said.
Daylen smiled.
"Neria named her for our…"
The boy smiled, it was a far different smile than the smirk of Death's Hand, that predatory shark-like grin.
"What is she like?" he demanded, "Tell me everything…please."
"I did not see her up close," she informed him, "She is being cared for by a nurse here in the keep."
"Of course, of course she is," he rose and began to pace. Leandra said nothing, waiting for him to exhaust some of that nervous energy.
He spun quickly, a desperate look on his face.
"I need to see her," he exclaimed.
IOI
She gave him a sad look.
"You can't," she said.
Can't, he thought, there was a time that that word had no meaning for him…
He would see that it did again.
"Leandra…please…"
"I do not have that kind of authority here Daylen," she reminded him.
He cursed under his breath. Of course she did not have that kind of power, only one person in Kirkwall did when it came to him, and she would likely not be open to his pleas, but…perhaps…
"Then go to my sister then," he said, "I…I know that this will not be easy, and I hate to ask this of you, but…but I…"
He held up his hands, the looking at them impotently.
"She is of my blood," he murmured, "Amell blood…I…I know that my sister blames me for so many things, but this…this is not about my crimes. It is about my rights…as…as a father…a parent.
"What would you do if you were me? What would you do if you knew that your child was in the hands of enemies? That they could kill her the moment she became an inconvenience."
"Your sister wouldn't…"
Death's Hand snarled.
Fury flashed in his eyes, his claws extended to their full length. Black fury pulsed through his veins.
He imagined his sister standing before him, gloating, tormenting him, it did not matter who the girl's mother was, only that she was his…
Solona…his dear sweet sister, who seemed to take such pleasure from destroying his dreams, he had no doubt that she would deny him even this.
"Does she want me to beg?" he growled, "Will that please my beloved sister? To see the rightful Viscount on his knees begging for the right that any condemned man would be granted?"
"You are not condemned," Leandra reminded him.
"No, I'm only to spend the rest of my life rotting in this cell."
The anger in his voice alerted the guards.
"Milady are you well?" one of them called out.
Daylen fell silent. He knew that if he continued ranting the guards would secure him, and it would be likely that his cousin would be barred from speaking with him again.
He sank to the floor of his cell, his hands cradled in his hands.
When he looked up, he was simply that boy she knew. He looked at her was such sadness in his eyes.
"Cousin…please."
Seeing him reduced to such a state broke the older woman's heart. Daylen had done much, he had hurt so many, but he was still family.
Family did not turn its back on family.
"I will speak with your sister," she said, "But I promise nothing."
He almost laughed.
"I…that is all I want, bless you cousin, bless you."
He took her hand in his human one and kissed it.
"I will try," she murmured as she left, "That is all I can do."
The cell door closed again, leaving him with only the shadows of his dark thoughts.
He smiled slightly.
He was eager to see his child, to know that she was safe.
He wanted to see the girl that would one day inherit his kingdom, the one who would one day rule not only Kirkwall but the world he would build for her.
Many would likely see such ideas as idol fantasies or delusions, but Daylen was not a man for such things. He knew that he would not die in this cell. He had too much to live for, a throne to win, a world to cleanse.
He was not done yet, not but a longshot.
He would be free one day, and on that day his daughter would embrace him and thank him for what he had won of her.
She would understand then that it was all worth it.
That it had been all worth it.
IOI
Solona considered Daylen's request.
She hated that he had come to Leandra with it, and hated even more that he had people here that were still willing to provide him with such information.
She would put Varric on it in the morning, find out who was speaking with her brother, and have them removed.
Her hand went to her belly again, thinking of her own children. If the situation had been reversed, she doubted that Daylen would be open to such a request. If she had been imprisoned, he would not likely have let her see her children, if he permitted them to live at all.
It was a sobering thought.
If she said no, Daylen would no doubt cease being cooperative, but if she allowed him to see the girl, would he start helping her to assure her continued health? Would she be able to threaten a child to get what she wanted? She would never harm an innocent babe, but Daylen did not need to know that…
The Viscountess sighed.
Empress Celene would advise her to use whatever weapon she could to hold her throne. King Alistair would likely have advised her to follow her conscience…
All sound advice, but what would Solona of Kirkwall do?
The Viscountess pursed her lips.
She would do what she must, and trust that it was the right choice.
It was all that anyone could do.