Justice: A Feudal Lord's Cash Crop
Lucy
I awoke early and slipped into the room adjoining mine. This was where my son and his nurse, Iveta, slept. I spent time holding my son. His sweet little body was so warm and fragrant. I liked to bury my nose in his soft neck and just breathe him in. Iveta was still sleeping and I didn't want to wake her, I knew she had been getting up all night long to nurse him, so I just silently basked in this quiet moment with my son. His eyes popped open and he looked at me. In my proud motherly imaginings, I could see a keen intelligence sparkling within them. I had no idea what genetic material Elissa had; maybe she had been intelligent, certainly all of his potential fathers were. I might not have had a hand in donating my own genetic material to Danny, but I'd selected his father, and I would make certain he lacked for nothing in his environment to produce a superb specimen of humanity. I had to smile at my grand plans for my boy. I supposed for a few months he could be just a baby.
"No pressure, Danny-boy," I whispered to him. "Just enjoy yourself for now. Soon you will learn many, many things. Things that most people here don't know. You'll learn about fairness and justice, democracy and much more." I giggled quietly. "But first you need to learn to read and write. Maybe even in a couple of languages! I think you should play a musical instrument too. I will have a guitar made for you to play, or would you prefer a wind instrument? Not the harpsichord, I hate that instrument and they don't seem to have them here, fortunately. I'm not buying you a drum set, either."
I snuggled my boy for a few more minutes and put him down, hoping he wouldn't start to fuss and awaken Iveta.
I finally had a moment to go through the correspondence addressed to me. I could see that Varel could probably handle a lot of it and decided to ask him to intercept my mail in the future and screen it for me. I laid aside everything except two letters, one from Loghain and another from Alistair. I opened Alistair's first, realizing with a pang how much I missed him. A ring rolled out of the center of the message. I picked it up and looked at it wonderingly. It wasn't a terribly fancy ring and it didn't look new at all. It was a gold band with an intricate design carved into it. On the inside it was inscribed: Together Forever. I stared at it, very puzzled. Why would Alistair send me a ring?
Dear Lucy, Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander of Ferelden and Liberator of the Free World,
I giggled at Alistair's exuberant use of titles. He was still just a goofy guy, even if he was the king.
I write to you with happy tidings: My beautiful queen and wife has given birth to an exceptionally handsome boy. He has Anora's hair, I think, but the nose is mine. Certainly his appetite is mine. If the size of his feet are any indication, he may end up being a rather large boy.
We named him Calenhad. I hope it doesn't put too much pressure on him, but perhaps our son will bring together the Bannorn the way Calenhad brought together the Clayne... his parents could certainly use some help in that regard. Those Banns in the center of the country take up about 80% of our time and effort. Of course, many of them were devastated by the Blight and that doesn't help matters, but they're an argumentative and difficult-to-please lot.
I understand that you have had your baby and you have a boy as well. I'm sure our two boys will be great friends. We will have to make certain they spend time together. Perhaps your boy will grow up to be Calenhad's Loghain.
I rolled my eyes. Good lord, I hope not. Loghain and Maric had a miserable relationship for much of their time together. I don't think it was healthy for either one of them.
I understand you named him Daniel. I like the name very much. I think it a wonderful way to remember Riordan. I suppose you'll call him Danny. Loghain is convinced the boy is his although I rather imagine you would like it to be Riordan's. I know he held a special place in your heart.
I think if he were alive right now he would insist that you secure a future for your son. Growing up as a bastard was not fun, Lucy. I never felt I fit in anywhere. Other kids rubbed my nose in it. I know Loghain offered to marry you but you turned him down. You have your reasons why, even though it is a rather elegant solution to your problem. I would like to suggest an alternative, so that you can spare your boy the trouble I grew up with.
I sighed. Alistair hadn't had any parent to defend him from the jerks, just a negligent guardian and his harridan of a wife.
I think you'll like this solution and, should Zevran return from Antiva, I can't imagine he would object either. I think you should tell people that you and Riordan were secretly married and the babe is his. I've sent along a ring you can wear. Tell people that it was your wedding ring.
Ah! That explains the ring. Hm... Alistair was right. There was no harm in it. If anyone asked, Alistair would vouch for the fact that we had wed, perhaps a hand-fasting ceremony during our travels.
The two heroes of the land married, what could be more romantic? Please Lucy, for the sake of your child, and yourself, do this. I'll figure out a way to explain it to Anora who still believes that Loghain is the father and that the two of you will eventually marry.
Please write to me with your response to my suggestion and tell me how it goes with you.
All my love to you and your new baby. I hope you will come see us soon!
Alistair
P.S. I'm just Alistair to you, forever. If you ever 'majesty' me, I'm throwing you in Fort Drakon. Ha, ha! Just kidding... but really, don't do it.
I laughed out loud at the postscript. I fought the urge to reply immediately and opened Loghain's letter instead.
My Dear,
I wish I could get away from Denerim for another visit. I know you're terribly busy and I want to be there to help. Your seneschal, Varel, is a good man. I was impressed, during the little while I was there, I think he will be very helpful. Let him take on as much as possible. I will need to spend a few more weeks in Denerim and then I think I can get away to help you. Amaranthine is only two days away if one rides hard and the weather is good, so I should be able to visit frequently.
If you read Alistair's missive then you know my daughter had a boy. They named him Calenhad. Both mother and son are healthy. They all seem very happy. I only hope no one takes to calling the boy Calen, it sounds too much like Cailan.
I could just imagine the sour look on his face as he wrote that last sentence.
Alistair had an interesting idea to propose to you. I hope you will give it serious consideration. I am concerned about you and the child. Nobles can be very petty about such matters and you know how cruel children can be. On my next visit we'll discuss it more. I warn you, I won't take 'no' for an answer.
"Oh, Loghain. I can be just as stubborn as you and you know it," I said to the letter.
Despite everything, I am finding Alistair to be a steady young man, if a bit immature at times. Now that I think about it, I thought that about Maric too. Cailan lacked steadiness entirely. Anora does seem to adore Alistair, and he her, so I guess the match worked out well despite all my misgivings.
I hope you can take some time out of your busy schedule to write to me and tell me what our boy is up to.
Fond Regards,
Loghain
I smiled when I realized I missed him. I thought briefly of rekindling things between us, but it would only cause hard feelings again if – don't think it – when, Zevran returned. I couldn't do that to Loghain again. Besides, he had a thing going on with that widow. It wouldn't do to give the poor woman more grief than she'd already had losing her husband.
I couldn't have a dalliance with Anders, he was a recruit. I wasn't so clueless about my position that I could just ignore that fact. My mind drifted to the kiss with the Dark Wolf. Foolishness. I chastised myself and directed my mind back to the correspondence.
I fingered the ring that Alistair had sent. Perhaps Riordan and I would have married. If he had lived... he might be the commander here and I would be his second. I shivered thinking that perhaps he would have been here with the Orlesians when the darkspawn attacked. Maybe not. Perhaps he would have stayed with me in Denerim. We could have had a three-way hand-fasting ceremony. It would have been a very, very private ceremony, just a few of our more open-minded friends... Leliana being the only one I knew of that didn't seem to mind our strange arrangement.
I slid the ring on my finger and found it fit perfectly. Then I picked up a quill and wrote letters to both of them. I tried not to convey too much of my despair over the state of things here and having to spend time away from my son. I sent them both congratulations on their child and grandchild. Then I asked them both to send me troops. I thanked Alistair for sending the ring and agreed with him about the story we would tell about my fictional marriage to Riordan.
Writing the letters made me terribly homesick for Denerim. I missed sitting around a campfire with Alistair and telling him things that would make him blush and rush off to his tent. I missed Zevran's sexy chatter, and Riordan's emotionless deadpan that belied his deeply passionate nature. I almost... almost wished I could go back in time and relive it again, except without the darkspawn.
I left my room, heading down the hallway to the stairs. I got to the hallway that led to the servants' quarters, the ones who live inside the keep. I saw someone walking down the hallway in a feminine robe. I nearly walked passed without taking any particular note, but something drew my attention and I did a double-take. It was Anders. I stopped and watched him walk toward me.
"I can explain, Commander," he started to say.
"No need." Anders had certainly recovered quickly from my refusal of his kiss. A part of me was miffed… all right, perhaps slightly jealous. I was attracted to him. If he weren't my subordinate... I was being silly. I knew what the Joining was doing to my recruits because it did it to me. They just needed to be more cautious about bringing children into the world than I had been. Not that I regretted the outcome one whit, but we couldn't rely on being infertile like Wardens were with the old formula.
I was rather curious about the obviously feminine robe, but I decided not to embarrass him with questions.
"You're taking precautions, I hope," I said casually.
His brow wrinkled with confusion as he thought. "Precautions?"
"Yes, some sort of tea to prevent conception?" I knew it worked on both men and women, but it worked better on women.
"Ah! Yes, yes, of course. I have a spell for that."
"Damn, Anders! We really need to get together and have a spell swap-a-thon. When this crazy busy schedule is cleared we will do this, I swear it! I will prioritize it."
He nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely! I want to learn shape-changing."
We parted and I went downstairs with the letters and the correspondence I didn't want to deal with. I told Varel that Loghain thought highly of him and he looked pleased, although somewhat embarrassed.
I held out my hand and pointed to the ring on my finger. "I'm married now, Varel."
He looked at me in surprise. "My congratulations, Commander. Did this happen during your trip to Amaranthine?"
I laughed and shook my head. "No, Alistair was concerned about my son's future so he suggested a solution. I married the Grey Warden who was also named a Hero of Ferelden. His name was Riordan and he was a Grey Warden from Jader, although a native Ferelden by birth. The king himself will attest to this if anyone asks. In truth, we were lovers. If he had survived, I'm sure we would have married."
Varel smiled and nodded. "That is a very plausible story, my lady. There's a certain amount of tragic romance to it too. I think it will go a long way toward making you seem like a more sympathetic figure to the people, and it will certainly quiet any speculation amongst the nobility."
I sighed. "I hear that people are spreading rumors that I'm a miserable tyrant, dealing harsh punishments for minor infractions."
Varel shook his head. "I've heard a little about this myself. I suspect that once we get to the bottom of this conspiracy such rumors will cease. Did you hear from the Dark Wolf?"
I blushed involuntarily, remembering the encounter. "Yes. He's charging an arm and a leg for his services, but hopefully we can unravel this nonsense before it bears any fruit."
"As do I, Lucy." He shook his head. "We'll be having a session of court this afternoon. I suspect you will want to be there, it will set expectations of the sort of justice that people will find from their new Arlessa."
Court? I was going to sit in judgment on people? Me? "Can I count on you for advice?"
"Of course."
"Maybe if I do exactly the opposite of whatever Arl Howe would have done I might come close to succeeding." I mused for awhile. "What if we eventually set up a panel of elected judges to uphold the laws, even to review the laws themselves?"
Varel looked surprised. "That sounds dangerous. What is to prevent them from being bribed?"
"What is to prevent an arl or even a king from being bribed?" I understood his concern. I'd certainly seen enough fledgling democracies black to the core with corruption. Bringing democratic reforms to the arling was an interesting thought. It made me feel invigorated again. I decided to set aside some time to muse on the subject. After all this nonsense with the darkspawn was handled, and I had some breathing time, perhaps I could start making some reforms.
"Good point. The former Arl certainly had been bought a few times."
I sensed Varel was being ironic. I'd bet the highest bidder got whatever sort of justice he wanted from Howe senior. I began explaining to Varel just what democracy could do and we argued back and forth about it until Captain Garevel interrupted us with news.
"Warden-Commander, riders approach flying the Highever flag. Were they expected?"
Varel and I exchanged worried glances. "Uh, no."
"Would this be your brother?" Garevel asked.
I shrugged. "Possibly. Well... prepare to be boarded, or something," I said, trying to make light of it. I walked out to the great hall where many people were gathering to see the Couslands reunited. Boy, were they in for a surprise. My three co-Wardens were there as well. Nathaniel had a strangely smug-looking expression on his face.
The three Wardens arrayed themselves around me, as if they were my personal guard. It made me feel a little better. Varel posted himself at my right side and Captain Garevel on my left. I knew I had nothing to fear physically from Fergus, it was the trouble he could stir up that I was afraid of.
We didn't have long to wait before the great door to the fortress was flung open and dozen heavily armed soldiers strode in, their weapons and armor jangling. Fergus was at the front with a particularly sour expression.
"Out. Everyone out," he commanded. "I need to have a word alone with my sister."
Well, I guess there wouldn't be any little fake air kisses or hugs. I turned to Varel and nodded. He in turn called out, "Clear the great hall."
Nathaniel made a frustrated little noise but turned to leave.
"Wait... You stay." Fergus pointed at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel went rigid with tension.
I put a hand on his arm and murmured to him. "Don't worry, he wouldn't dare harm you."
He didn't acknowledge the comment, but kept his eyes on Fergus.
I noticed Fergus' guards weren't leaving, but he asked them to withdraw a distance. Really? He needs a dozen heavily armed men to talk with me? I'm think I'm flattered.
When the hall cleared, he strode over to me, removing his gauntlets and stood in front of me glaring for a moment. Then he lashed out with a hand and slapped me hard. "So, you conniving bitch, it isn't enough that you end up with Howe's estate, but you've got a Howe with you as well? I suppose that bastard you gave birth to is his as well?"
I rubbed at my cheek and laughed harshly. "His? I've only know him for a few weeks. Nathaniel is a Grey Warden. He has chosen to serve Ferelden in a very honorable manner." Okay, I was stretching the truth a little. He didn't choose anything, I chose for him. "And as such," I continued strongly, "he is under my protection. I think you remember whose protection I am under." I glowered back at him, the burning from his slap goading my anger.
Fergus drew his sword and pointed it at Nathaniel. "I would be well within my rights to behead this traitor."
Nathaniel looked about ready to grab his own pair of daggers so I stepped between the two men. "Nathaniel, leave us," I said calmly, countering Fergus' earlier order. I drew lyrium from my necklace and was prepared to do what I must to save Nathaniel, but I hoped it wouldn't come to that, especially with a dozen witnesses to see Elissa Cousland using magic.
I heard Nathaniel's footsteps as he backed away, but I didn't let my eyes leave Fergus for a moment. I wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to decide to run me through. His eyes were burning with the sort of hatred I usually see just before someone swings a sword at me. We stood, eyes locked, nostrils flaring, for a long moment and then he slowly sheathed his sword.
"Name your bastard's father." He demanded.
"My son is not a bastard and I hardly see how this is any of your business." Now my temper really was fraying.
"It is my business, sister. Your bastard will inherit Highever should anything happen to me. Is that your plan? You give me Highever only to have your misbegotten brat take it from me on my death? Is it your intention to hasten that moment?"
I stepped closer, my nose only an inch from his. "You will stop talking about my son like that. I don't want your goddamned Highever for me or my son. Your title doesn't interest me in the slightest."
"Tell me who fathered your bastard," he demanded again.
I lowered my voice so only he could hear it. "I swear to whatever deity you choose if you call him that again I will castrate you right here in front of your guards. Then try to get yourself an heir!"
"Whose?" he shouted, ignoring my threat. "Is it Loghain's?"
I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of telling him anything, not even my well crafted lie, but withholding it wasn't going to resolve anything either. "His father is Riordan, the other Hero of Ferelden, the one who died. My husband."
"Right, how convenient he isn't around to support the story." He narrowed his eyes at me. "And why so secretive?"
"King Alistair was there if you wish for confirmation. We weren't secretive, we simply didn't have time for some big party in the middle of the Blight."
"A Cousland marrying a commoner." He spit out the words. "What would our parents have said?"
"I'm not a Cousland, my lord," I imbued the honorific with as much sarcasm as possible.
"You are in every way that counts, but one. I expect you to comport yourself as if you were. What you do reflects on me."
"Renounce me. Disown me. Prune me from the family tree. It seems that would be the best solution. Then you and I can go our separate ways and our paths need never cross again."
His lip turned in a sneer. "I wish it were that easy. Oh, I will disown you, you can be certain of that, but you are my vassal now and you owe me fealty." He drew his sword again and held it before me. "On your knees."
"Why?" I eyed him suspiciously. Does he mean to behead me or have me blow him?
"Do it!" he roared. His guards started coming closer.
I was still brimming with lyrium, ready to act in a second if necessary. I knelt before him, never taking my eyes off his.
"Give me your oath of fealty," he snarled.
"Uh..." I tried to remember the oath those Banns had sworn to me, but my mind went blank. "I promise that I, Elissa Cousland, will be a good vassal and do the vassal-y things I am supposed to do. So help me Maker."
"Idiot. That's not a proper oath. Say it properly and use your real name."
I shrugged. "I don't know the words."
He sighed. "Repeat after me, then. I promise that I, whatever your name is..."
"I promise that I, Lucille Ball..." Hell, he didn't know my real name, I could make it up.
"... will be faithful to the Teyrn in matters of life, limb and earthly honor," he continued.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "... will be faithful to the Teyrn in matters of life, limb and earthly honor."
"Never will I bear arms against him or his heirs. So I say in the sight of the Maker," he growled.
"Never will I bear arms against him or his heirs. So I say in the sight of the Maker. Amen," I repeated, crossing my fingers.
He added a frown to his glower at the last part. "Kiss my sword."
"Oh, for god's sake! No one kissed my dagger when I took oaths."
"Do it!" The sword came closer to my face.
I sighed and leaned forward, carefully holding the tip with the flat of my hand and kissing it. At the last moment I cast a small, discrete spell that sent a painful electrical charge through the blade and shocked him.
He jumped back and dropped his sword. "I warn you, woman, you will pay for your insolence." He bent and picked it up again.
I stood and dusted off my knees. "Keep in mind Anora's words from the post-Blight celebration, Fergus."
"Teyrn," he growled.
"Teyrn," I spat out the word. "Anora stated that I was under the protection of the crown. Unless you plan to openly defy the monarchy of this country, and Teyrn Loghain, Arl Teagan and lots of others, then..."
He swished his sword through the air. "Enough!" He turned on his heel and gestured to his guards. They followed him out of the keep, clanking even more noisily than they had entered.
I followed them out and watched them ride away. An older elven man moved a little too slowly and they rode him down.
"Assholes!" I shouted after them. I ran to the old man they had knocked over. He was bleeding, but conscious. I had to be cautious about using magic openly. I put my hands on him and examined him with my magic. He had a mild head injury and a compound fracture of the leg, but he would survive.
I saw the others surging out of the keep. Varel ran to me.
"Varel, get Anders. This man has been injured by those fuckers!"
"Yes, Commander." He turned and ran into the keep.
"Are you all right?" I asked the man.
He nodded. "I will be all right, ser. Don't worry yourself about me."
"What is your name?" I asked him.
"I'm Samuel, the groundskeeper." He groaned and tried to sit up.
"Take it easy, Samuel. Anders will be here in no time. He's a good healer, he delivered my baby." I spoke soothingly to him.
He smiled and clutched my arm. "I heard you had a baby that very night when you came and fought the darkspawn. How is your boy?"
"He's very healthy and quite handsome. You will have to come see him sometime." I tried to keep his mind off the pain.
"Aye, lady. I'd like that." He turned his head and saw someone behind me. "Is that you, Nathaniel?"
"Groundskeeper Samuel?" Nathaniel's voice held a note of wistfulness. "I can't believe you're still here!"
Anders arrived just then and ordered Samuel to be moved into the keep to the infirmary. Nathaniel picked him up carefully and carried him inside. Anders cast a concerned look at me then followed his patient into the keep.
I stood up and felt stunned, trying to understand what had just happened. I was a vassal of my worst enemy. I didn't know exactly what he could do to me to make my life a misery, but I was sure he would do whatever he could.
It didn't look like my life was going to stop sucking any time soon.
Nathaniel
He backed away slowly from Fergus Cousland after Lucy inserted herself between them. What would he do if Fergus attacked her? The hesitation in answering himself was his answer. He would hesitate, and she might die, although he wondered if she would. He had seen how she could move faster than the eye could follow. He turned around once he found the stairs and climbed until he was out of sight. Then he carefully sneaked back down and hid himself so he could listen in.
The drama played out before his ears, but he didn't dare risk poking out his head from his hiding place to look. Fergus' words were so filled with venom he could just imagine he was on the verge of murder. Lucy was like a mad wolverine when he called her child a bastard. He dared to hope that the pair would attack one another. If that happened he didn't care about the risk, he would look. If he were to bet, it would be on her. He had seen the sort of damage she could inflict with just her daggers and if she could readily move as fast as she did that time in his bedroom, Fergus was a goner.
Fergus demanded over and over to know who the boy's father was and she finally told him: Riordan, a Grey Warden, a commoner. They had married, she said. Nathaniel agreed with Fergus when he said it was convenient that Riordan wasn't around to challenge that assertion. Ah, such a disappointment. It would have been such fun if she'd been saddled with a bastard. No one would challenge her and King Alistair about the marriage or the baby's paternity.
Then Fergus had demanded she kneel and swear fealty to him, in a most humiliating manner. Nathaniel just had to see this. He carefully peeked out from of his hiding place and saw her kneel and heard her botch the oath. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Lucy was impudent to the very end. Fergus did his very best to demean her, make her cower, but she didn't. At the end, Fergus dropped his sword and jumped as if he had been shocked. What had she done to him? Whatever it was, it had been subtle, and he hadn't seen any indication of magic.
He ducked back into the shadows and listened as the Teyrn and his soldiers left the keep. What a spectacular show! The dueling Couslands were well worth the risk. Fergus had certainly been fierce, but the commander... he had to admire, however grudgingly, her refusal to back down. Even in her submission she had managed to be defiant. He wasn't sure who had won that encounter, but it certainly wasn't Fergus.
After Fergus and his soldiers rode off Lucy followed them out and he heard her yelling. Curiosity drove him to go out and he saw an old man lying in the courtyard with Lucy bent over him.
He came closer to see. "Groundskeeper Samuel?" He couldn't believe it. The old elf had been the groundskeeper ever since he had been a boy. "I can't believe you're still here!"
The groundskeeper smiled through the pain. "Master Nathaniel, you've returned! I hoped you would one day. Your sister is going to be relieved to see you."
Nathaniel wanted to reply but Anders asked him to carry the old man to the infirmary. He carefully picked him up and carried him inside. The old elf weighed so little. He wasn't young when Nathaniel was a boy, how old must he be now?
He let Anders attend to the old man but he came back to see him when the mage was finished.
"Samuel, my sister is alive?" he asked. "I thought she had died."
The old man smiled and patted the Howe's hand. "Aye, lad. She is married and living in Amaranthine. I wondered what had become of you, whether you survived the Blight or no."
"Maker... I thought they were all dead. Father, Thomas, Delilah..." He felt the grim, angry depression he'd been living with for months dissipate some. Delilah is alive! His mind began trying to assemble a life for them both. Maybe they could both live at the keep. Would Lucy would let her? Delilah might make a good governess for her son. Or they could move to the Free Marches and start over there. Perhaps Bann Esmerelle would advance them some money; she seemed to have been fond of his father.
Hope. A spark of hope and happiness lit inside his chest. He would have to get to Amaranthine again and soon.
He chatted with Samuel awhile longer and they reminisced together over old times, times when Nathaniel had been careless of beds with newly sprouted seeds. Samuel had an endless amount of work planting and replanting what the boy's careless feet had trod. Then there were the mud puddles that he loved to splash through and that one time when the old groundskeeper had lifted him out of a puddle he'd fallen into face down. Samuel had taken him to his own small house and helped him clean up so he wouldn't get into too much trouble.
Nathaniel vowed to beg Lucy, if he must, to allow him to go to Amaranthine. He simply must see his sister.
Anders
Lucy had stomped upstairs after he had seen to the elderly elven man. From the tight expression on her features he knew she was angry. He should just give her some space and let her cool off, but perhaps she needed a friendly ear, or he could assist her with some other ways inducing a state of relaxation. There was sweet madcap, the herb, of course. There were a few spells he'd picked up from apostates when he'd been on the run, and there was always the healing art of massage that he had studied, unofficially, at the Circle Tower. That last one often led to his all-time favorite method of relaxing: sex.
He gave her ten minutes and then went to her rooms. She wasn't in her sitting room so he knocked at the bedroom door. He heard her muffled voice in the other room.
"Oh, for chrissakes, what is it now!"
He heard her footsteps stamping to the door. She flung it open with a scowl on her face. "Oh, Anders! Sorry... I'm just... Oooh! That horrid man! I came this close to killing him." She showed him how close with her fingers and then gestured for him to come in and closed the door behind him. "I'm too upset to even go see Danny. I don't want to scare him."
"Actually, that's why I'm here. I could see you were pretty worked up and thought you might need some help putting this behind you. You should relax, being this tense is not good for you."
She sighed and slumped into a chair. "I know. Maybe I should just take this out on a training dummy, or get someone to spar with."
Anders shook his head. "In your current mood, someone might get hurt."
She frowned and nodded. "You're right. Do you have something in mind?"
"There's always sweet madcap. That'll take the edge right off."
She shook her head. "I'm holding court this afternoon. I can't show up at my first court high as a kite, tempting as that thought is."
"I find massage often works wonders. I've learned various massage techniques in the tower."
Lucy bit her lip, looking tempted. "I'm sure you have. I've experienced some massage techniques myself, some of which might be responsible for that cute bundle of joy you delivered a few weeks ago. Do you have anything where I keep my clothes on?"
Anders sighed theatrically. "Clothes on. No herbal remedies. You're making this difficult. However, there is something else." He sat down on the sofa. "Come here, sit on the floor between my legs."
Her eyebrow rose questioningly but she obeyed. She sat down, facing away from him. He put his fingers on her temples. "Close your eyes and try to empty your mind, I'm going to help you do it with magic."
"All right," she said.
He heard a little relaxation in her voice with just the simple act of closing her eyes. Magic swirled off his fingertips in green and grey spirals of fog. She sagged back against the sofa. It was working well. This spell would help to slow the mind. It was rather drug-like, but it would wear off immediately once he stopped the spell. It would end the cycle of anxiety that caused the body to react with stress, which in turn fed the anxiety. Once that cycle was broken, in a few minutes the urge to fight or flee would be gone. "How does this feel, Lucy?"
"Amazing," she murmured, slurring the word.
"Good. I know you feel a little high right now, but that will go away when I stop and you'll just feel relaxed again." He moved his hands down to her neck and began to pour the magic into the tight muscles there.
She listed to the right and slumped against his leg, muttering something nonsensical. He felt a little dampness against his knee and saw she was drooling slightly.
"All right, that might be a bit too much." He pulled back on his magic some. She remained slumped against his leg and he heard her snoring softly. He shut the spell off and put his hand back on her temple a moment. His healing sense told him she was deeply asleep. Her eyes were moving under her lids. She wouldn't awaken easily. He didn't move for several minutes, holding an internal debate.
He wanted to kiss the top of her head. Is that creepy? What's really creepy is I'm having this conversation with myself. Of course it's creepy. How would you like someone kissing on your head when you're asleep? I guess it would depend on who it was. If it was her... I would like it. If it was Mistress Woolsey, I would probably wake up screaming. So... the question is, am I Mistress Woolsey to her? He shook his head remembering the little frisson of attraction between them in Amaranthine. I didn't imagine that. At least, I've convinced myself of it. It could be I'm fooling myself. So... what do I do?
In the end he leaned close to her scalp and inhaled the scent of her hair. It smelled nicely herbal, a touch of rosemary and almond. It was a decent compromise. Sniffing her hair was only slightly creepy. He certainly hoped that Mistress Woolsey never sniffed his hair while he slept. He carefully untangled himself from her and slipped a hand behind her head. Her hair tickled softly against his arm as he adjusted her so she wasn't contorted and would wake up with a neck ache.
He went to her bedroom door and pulled it closed behind him, pausing to look back at her one more time. When she had seen him coming from the servant's quarters dressed in someone else's robe, had he finally completely ruined his chances with her? She seemed rather blasé about the entire thing. More concerned that he didn't father an unwanted child than anything. He didn't sense even the slightest spark of jealousy.
Maker! He wondered what was wrong with him. When had he ever been so obsessed with a woman? He laughed at that thought. When hadn't he been obsessed with women? Well, women in general but a woman, in the singular? Singular, indeed. Perhaps it was just gratitude that she had saved him from the Circle and her strangeness that attracted him. That has to be it. It was just a boyish crush, he would get over it. He nearly laughed at himself as he walked back to his room.
Varel
The commander came down shortly before he was about to go up to her room and get her so they could prepare for court. She looked remarkably calm considering the brutal nature of Teyrn Cousland's visit.
There were some strategically placed vents in the great hall that allowed the sounds from within to rise up to key spots on the second floor, not to mention a few peepholes. The Howes' ancient keep was filled with the means to spy on people. He had stationed himself in one such spot and watched what transpired and heard most of what was said. To say that the Teyrn did not like Lucy was an understatement. He thought he was going to witness a cold-blooded murder and he wasn't sure he could do anything about it. The Maker protects fools, drunks, and children, and apparently strange women from other worlds; Teyrn Fergus did not run her, or the Howe boy, through.
He was impressed with her fearless defense of her child in front of the Teyrn. When she threatened to castrate him he didn't think it was an empty threat.
"Commander!" He solicitously took her arm and guided her to a chair. "Please sit." He shook his head and cast a worried glance at her. "Maker, the Teyrn... There was no call for that behavior, whatever the circumstances."
She looked at him with surprise. "You heard it?"
He nodded. "Forgive me for spying on you, but I feared what he might do." Not that I could have done anything to prevent it.
"Oh, no. I appreciate it. I'm just curious as to how."
"Come with me." He took her to one of the places where one could spy on the great hall. "There are vents inset into the floor and you can hear and see what happens below."
"Wow! That's quite handy. I'm glad to know of this."
Varel chuckled. "Nobles have been forever paranoid."
She nodded. "Rightfully so. They're always one peasant revolt or invasion from being beheaded."
They went back to his study and went over what court proceedings would be like.
"This is something a seneschal can do, but I think you might want to attend to this first one yourself," he told her.
She nodded. "Yes. I have some definite opinions on justice. Until we can implement something fairer than a single person making these decisions, then I'd like to weigh in on these matters."
Great Maker, did she really intend to carry through with a panel of judges? It could set a dangerous precedent for the country. It might just incite Fergus to carry through with whatever murderous rage he'd kept in check today. Perhaps he could moderate her ideas... a panel of advisers might be more appropriate. "Yes, of course, Lucy. We should probably convene court, I believe they're ready for us."
Lucy walked into the great hall and took a seat on the ostentatious chair on the raised platform. She gestured Varel close. "This chair really has to go. A simple chair will do fine in the future. And the dais must go, too. Also, you should have a chair here."
His eyebrow cocked curiously. "As you wish, Commander." He cleared his throat. "Let's begin," he spoke in his booming voice, which resonated through the hall. "The Warden-Commander will first hear the matter of the crown against the sheepherder, Alec."
Captain Garevel came forward and made an accusation against the sheepherder that he stole some grain bound for the garrison in Amaranthine. "When we confronted him, he confessed. The punishment for theft from the crown is hanging."
Lucy sat up in her chair. "Whoa! That seems a little harsh," she muttered to Varel.
"What say you, Alec?" Varel asked.
"My sheep were slaughtered by darkspawn. My... my family was starving! I bet you for mercy. Mercy, Warden-Commander!"
Varel turned Lucy and murmured: "The poor bugger, had he stolen from anyone besides the crown, he would have escaped with just a flogging."
"If I let him off, nothing is solved, and his family will still be starving. Do you have any suggestions?"
Varel rubbed his jaw. "I suppose he could join the army. Maker knows we need the troops."
She smiled warmly at the seneschal. "I like that. Very good." She stood to deliver her decision. "Alec, I know neither the king nor queen would approve of hanging a good able-bodied man for such a trivial offense, especially when the army needs more soldiers. Join the army and you can keep your life and feed your family. How does that sound to you?"
Alec bowed to me. "Thank you! Thank you!"
Varel noted some of the nobles were muttering. He thought they might find her too lenient, but such would make her popular with the common people. She'd also very cleverly cast the king and queen in a favorable light. He cleared his throat and nodded to Captain Garevel who removed the chains from the man and handed him to an underling to get situated.
"The next matter is of a civil nature," Varel informed her. "Lady Liza Packton is the sovereign of Teyrn's Down. She..."
A well-dressed woman rushed forward. "I prefer to speak for myself," she said. "The old arl, Rendon Howe, made certain promises to me. Some of these he committed to paper. I was given right to the incomes of the southern bridge."
Another noble, with a bitter expression also came forward. "And what part did you take in Howe's conspiracies to gain such a fruitful prize, eh, Liza?" He turned to me and bowed briefly. "I am Ser Derren, and it's my land she seeks." He crossed his arms. "Taken from me because I was one of the few nobles who stood up against Arl Howe."
Varel leaned over to Lucy and murmured. "Commander, Ser Derren is an ally – and Amaranthine holds few who support you wholeheartedly. If there's any hope of persuading more nobles to your cause, you must be fair minded."
Lucy's mouth twisted sardonically. "Yes, thanks for that. So, do I pander to the ones who hate me or the ones who like me?" She tapped her fingers against the elaborately carved chair arm and mused. "If one arl can just whimsically take away land from a noble and give it to another, why can't I do the same and give it back?" she murmured.
"Oh, you can, make no mistake about it, but Ser Derren already is our ally, you have a chance to potentially win another with this ruling. There are some plum holdings you might offer him in exchange, ones that Howe had seized for himself during the unrest after Ostagar."
Lucy looked interested. "I think that sounds reasonable." She stood and cleared her throat. "Ser Derren, the document is legal, I shall have to uphold it. However, I promise I will make it up to you. As soon as I have the time, we can discuss this further and come to an amicable arrangement. Would that suit you?"
Ser Derren nodded. "My father built that bridge. But... very well, I will place my trust in you." He nodded politely to the Warden-Commander.
"Thank you for your patience, Ser Derren. I'm sure in a few weeks I will have cleared enough of my schedule and we can discuss this further. Perhaps over dinner?"
Varel noticed the young noble's eyes sparkled. "I look forward to it, my lady."
The nobles turned away and walked back to their places. Varel noticed that Lucy's eyes followed Derren back to his seat. He turned, caught her eye, and smiled at her just before he seated himself.
Lucy turned back to Varel. "What's next?"
Varel spoke with his most officious voice. "Bring in Ser Temmerly, the Ox."
"Do we make knights of farm animals now?" Lucy asked, her amusement apparent.
Some of the assembled heard her comment and some laughed with her, others muttered less charitably.
Varel nudged her gently with his elbow to remind her that this affair was one that required a certain decorum.
"The Ox" was brought in between two heavily armed guards. He swaggered forward insolently and stood as if he were entirely unconcerned with his circumstances.
"Ser Temmerly stands accused of a murder most foul," Captain Garevel said, his repugnance evident. He turned to the prisoner. "You and your men came upon Ser Tamra in the dead of night and did cravenly ambush her."
Lucy looked at Varel, a hint of worry evident in her face. Varel knew she had been counting on the woman to bring them information about the conspiracy.
"The Ox" sneered at the captain. "You dare too much, Garevel. I am a noble born, and will not submit to your accusations."
"You are accused of murder, ser! My soldiers found you fleeing while Ser Tamra's blood was still hot."
"There's a great deal of traffic on the roads. Not all of it human. And it's so dangerous at night," he said unctuously. "We were merely in a hurry to reach a nice, safe place."
"You mock this court with your denials!" Garevel looked near to exploding with anger.
"You have nothing, Captain. Release me, Commander – it's this common lout's word against mine."
"Ser Temmerly was a confederate of Arl Howe's," Varel muttered to Lucy. "And Ser Tamra was the one who warned you of this conspiracy."
Lucy pursed her lips and nodded. "Is there any other evidence?"
"Only some blood on their clothes – a sadly common sight on travelers these days," Varel replied. "Other than that, nothing. The captain looked into the matter thoroughly."
"Is there any chance he's innocent?" Lucy asked quietly.
"If he's innocent, I'm the Empress of Orlais, but it is possible, I suppose."
"I think this proves the conspiracy, Varel. They've claimed their first victim."
Varel nodded. "I fear you're correct. Have you decided what to do?"
"If we execute him we do so with little proof. What if we hold him and continue our investigation? Perhaps we can persuade Ser Bovine to turn on the other conspirators in return for leniency."
Varel looked down at the floor to hide a little smirk. "I think that should work."
Lucy stood again and delivered her verdict in a clear, strong voice. "Ser Temmerly, we will hold you prisoner and continue the investigation. If you cooperate, we will be lenient. If not... the investigation may take quite a long time to resolve."
The prisoner's face contorted with anger. "What is the meaning of this? You can't do this!"
"Oh, but the Commander very much can," Varel said dryly. He enjoyed seeing the fury on "The Ox's" face. Another of Arl Howe's cronies had fallen, always a pleasant thing to see.
"This session of the arling's court is now concluded," Varel intoned.
Lucy and Varel watched while the people rose. There were many who threw smiles at the Warden-Commander, mostly commoners. The nobles looked less content, although Ser Derren was smiling at her again. Varel saw Lucy nod her head to him and a small smile curve her lips.
Maker! Was she flirting with him? Varel shook his head and gestured for the Warden-Commander to precede him out of the great hall.
- - -. .. ... -.-. .. . -. - / .-. - ...-
The next day the Wardens went into the dungeon below the fortress and cleared out the collection of ghouls, demons and assorted unsavories that lingered there, enough so that the debris could be cleared away and they could find if there was an entrance to the Deep Roads in the arling.
"It seems we'll be visiting the Deep Roads soon, Wardens," Lucy told them. "I think Oghren can get you caught up on what to expect." She left them to talk together while she went upstairs to spend some time with Daniel.
Anders shivered at the description. He hated enclosed spaces; it was too much like the Tower. Nathaniel was also uneasy, but Oghren seemed rather happy to be going underground. Even so long as he had lived on the surface, he still preferred to be nestled in the rocky bosom of the earth.
As they packed for their excursion, Oghren carefully packed several bottles of very potent booze. Nathaniel packed extra clean socks and Anders thought he might need some sweet madcap to make it through the excursion. Lucy packed her carefully-hoarded chocolate and some coffee. She could just imagine how much nicer chocolate would make the whole Deep Roads experience. If she'd had it the first time around, everything would have gone a whole lot better.
~o~o~o~
Notes: Biff McLaughlin did an amazing job of betaing once again. She has my eternal gratitude for giving her time to this project.
I send my thoughts to those of you have been affected by Irene. I know Zevgirl is still without power! I hope your lives return to normal soon! Or better than normal!
If you haven't set up automatic notices when the story is updated, here is a reminder to do so. I'd hate for you to fall behind! My fingers are in overdrive. I'm already up to chapter 7... I'm trying not to overwhelm my dear beta-reader.
I adore your reviews, thank you ever so much! I try to respond to them, but sometimes don't have the time. If I've missed responding to your review, I apologize! Never feel embarrassed to give your feedback. I love it. I like knowing how the each chapter makes you feel and what you think might happen next. Sometimes you inspire me! Arsinoe is totally responsible for the angst with Fergus, it was a plot point I hadn't seen until she pointed it out. Thank you, Arsinoe!