A/N: Plausible? Maybe. Fun? Hell, yeah! Rocking on in the merry land of "If you can get away with crowning two sovereigns, you can bloody well get away with this, too".

XXX

Headstrong

It is safe to assume that in the aftermath of the reception there would be many nobles who would indeed end up cursing the new Arlessa filthy.

XXX

It could have, on the whole, been worse, Varel decided as he kept a wary eye on the gradually dispersing party. It could have, of course, also been better.

For example, the Commander could have left the guards where they were instead of having Garevel send them all out before the proceedings have even begun. Her assurance to the gathering that no wild canapé are about to sprout fangs and eat them all did meet with general mirth but also raised more than a few dissatisfied eyebrows.

She could have worn a dress, too. Varel was certain he had a maid leave one or two suitable ones in the Commander's room. So naturally, she opted for wearing armour instead, showing up at the reception as if she were going to war instead of a banquet. Which was probably how she had viewed the whole affair anyway. At least she was a match for the two other Wardens in attendance: both Oghren and Anders were in their full battle regalia, complete with the Warden amblems on display.

Those two also could have been more discreet, Varel thought though well aware such thoughts belonged more to the realm of wishful fantasy than actual reality. Technically, it was possible for Oghren not to get stark roaring drunk to the horrified amusement of the nobility present and it was possible for Anders not to strut around like he owned the room. It just wasn't very probable.

The mabari ruining Lady's Which-ever-one-it-was fancy dress by mistaking it for a piss spot didn't help things run more smoothly either, especially when the Commander herself nearly keeled over laughing. It did make the dog a temporary star of the day, though, at least among some of the nobility. Others, conversly, were not quite as impressed.

They also could have done without the Commander nearly starting a fight, too, later in the day after most of the party had moved outside, where the drink was more plentiful, the music more bawdy and a drunken guest made a mistake of cuffing a servant for not bringing another cup quickly enough. Normally, a typical incident bound to happen on occasions such as this: not looked kindly upon, but not exactly frowned upon either. It was just one of those things drunk people do sometimes.

The Commander begged to differ and she did so by the way of planting a fist straight into the drunken noble's face. Normaly, there would be guards to deal with that sort of behaviour if the host, or hostess, deemed it necessary. What they got instead was a five foot two worth of a sizzling elf, stunned silence, mouthfull of broken teeth and blood and a pointed reminder that whatever descriptors would mark the new Arlessa's tenure, "typical" was not going to be one of them.

Lacking guards, it was Oghren who had hoisted the bloody-nosed man out of the courtyard and Anders who had diffused the situation by making light of the whole affair in his usual care-free way. Much more importantly, the mage had also managed to diffuse the Commander's wrath before it had a chance to go off fully: "Smooth, Commander. Real smooth. Any smoother than that and we can start using you as a whetstone."

Even Varel had a chuckle at that, though in all honesty, they really could have done without that particular incident.

And all the while, he had just stood there and allowed it all to happen. Mostly because he knew there was no stirring the Commander away from being her hot-headed self, not even for one afternoon. Any attempt would, in fact, have brought on the exact opposite in which case he might as well have put Dworkin in charge of party entertainment and ended up with a slightly less explosive result.

The real reason, though, had been something else. Despite his better judgement, Varel found himself actually amused by the way things went down. There was no doubt that Amaranthine nobles would soon draw the lines regarding their new Arlessa, regardless of what she did or didn't do. This afternoon just might have sped things up but on the other hand, it might have also forestalled some of the conspiracies that would soon begin to brew as the nobility attempted to align their fortunes with the new direction of political winds blowing across the Arling from the Vigil Keep. This particular wind, however, was a completely new thing and watching who will adopt which tactics in order to adjust to previously unknown circumstances would be quite informative.

So all in all, while there were certainly many things they could have done without today the proceedings were, on the whole, good. Except for that one little detail near the end of the whole affair that had Varel on high alert more than any of the previous incidents combined.

They really, really could have done without a Howe…

Special note:

I will not besmirch the great author by dedicating a silly, self-indulgant chapter to him. His work deserves a much better dedication than this. But I will take the opportunity to offer one final salute to the man who had left us early to avoid the rush. Farewell, Sir Terry - It just won't be the same without you.