Due to a recent change in my life, chapters will be uploaded much more slowly than they have been previously. I honestly don't know how long it will take for me to write the next chapter because of this change. Despite that, know that I will eventually complete this story. Things should be back to normal within a week or two (though hopefully sooner).
As always, please... PLEASE review. Opinions are like assholes, so I know all of you have them. Please tell me about them (opinions, I mean). Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 5 – Politics:
"Maker's breath, girl. How did you possibly clean the entire western wing in a few hours?" Groundskeeper Samuel shook his head, feeding Myr's pride. "For a new girl, you're pretty good."
"I work fast." Myr said simply, smiling at the older elf. What she didn't mention was how her magic did most of the work for her, but she figured that was information that Samuel didn't need to know.
"Well, head cook Maria wanted to see you when you were done, but since you moved so fast, you've got quite a bit of free time." Samuel turned away, picking up his pitchfork. "Don't get in too much trouble, girl."
"Thanks Samuel!" Myr smiled at him before leaving the garden, heading straight to the Vigil. She had everything timed perfectly, Myr realized, when she saw Oghren drunkenly stagger out into the morning light, heading to the throne room.
He was a contemptuous thing, that Oghren. Myr shuddered, thinking of the numerous times she had seen him grope the other serving girls. When he tried to grope Myr, he received a well-rounded slap for his efforts, but that didn't excuse his lecherous behavior.
"Men..." Myr sighed, realizing she was lucky Saul didn't focus on those sorts of things.
But maybe that wasn't a good thing. Saul had seemed obsessed lately with the object of his revenge. He'd tracked Nathaniel down to Vigil's Keep, waiting to kill him only so that he could discover the location of Delilah Howe.
That was Myr's job. Watch and observe Nathaniel, so that the location of Delilah could be found. Still, Saul's sudden obsession disturbed her. For nearly a month after the fall of Adrian in Denerim, Saul seemed content with ignoring his vendetta. He and Myr had traveled nearly to Orzammar when he suddenly had a change of heart.
They arrived in Vigil's Keep a day after the darkspawn attack and Myr quickly positioned herself within the serving staff. She was close to the Wardens on a near daily basis, often cleaning up after their meals, cleaning their rooms or serving their food. The Wardens were a peculiar bunch, though.
Anders, the mage, was constantly joking around and casually flirting. He was good looking, Myr had to admit, but he seemed incapable of taking things serious. His demeanor was entirely opposite of Saul, who was in serious mode most, if not all, of the time.
Oghren, the lecherous fool, couldn't keep his hands to himself. If Myr was to completely discount his wandering habits, she'd still think him a disgusting bastard. He drank ludicrous amounts of alcohol and was constantly making foul references to his sexual organs.
Darius was considerably more composed. In fact, too much so. Myr hardly saw much emotion from the guy. He'd smile occasionally, laugh sometimes, but most of the time he acted like a machine, just staring, taking in information. He was polite to a fault, but sometimes it seemed as if he stared right through people. Myr never felt secure in her ruse around him.
Nathaniel was what Myr didn't expect at all. Despite the fact that he lied about his name – which Myr saw right through – he then tried to kill Oghren, lost, then got recruited into the Wardens! Despite that, he was incredibly polite, even to elves, often referring to the serving girls as ladies. Myr would have thought it to be some shoddy come-on, but he seemed to genuinely think of elves as equals. Yet Saul wanted nothing more than to kill him. Every time Myr looked at him, she seemed less certain about assisting in his death.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.
But Myr knew enough of betrayal to be cautious of Nathaniel. R told her to never trust anyone, especially those that appeared the best. Often, he told her, it is those that seem the best behaved that must be watched most carefully, for they are the ones self-conscious enough to be hiding something.
Myr slipped inside the Keep, keeping one eye trained on the drunken oaf, Oghren. He lost his balance quite often, but only seemed to laugh about it after. He was truly an idiot.
Myr stopped as they neared the throne room. Oghren leaned against the door, listening to Darius, Mistress Woolsey and Captain Garavel speak.
Without a proper Seneschal, Darius had been giving himself a great deal of work, Myr realized. Not only did he have to deal with politics and nobles, but he needed to be kept up to date on all the mundane affairs of the Keep.
As Myr listened to Garavel and Woolsey bicker to Darius about whether to send troops to the Wending Woods or Knotwood Hills, she couldn't help but wonder why Darius didn't just appoint someone as Seneschal. Maybe there was nobody capable left, what with the darkspawn attack?
Finally, Darius made a decision. Surprisingly, he said he would be heading the Wending Woods himself and that soldiers would search Knotwood Hills. Myr edged closer to the door when Oghren finally approached Darius.
Myr cursed, feeling a stabbing pain in her leg. She looked down, seeing a deepstalker growling, its worm-like maw digging into her leg. She fell back, kicking the creature away, while drawing her bleeding leg under her.
It was Tez, a pet that belonged to Darius. Maybe not a pet, since this thing could kill, but it certainly acted like one around Darius and, oddly enough, Anders. To everyone else, this thing was feral.
"Shoo!" Myr whispered, waving her hand at the thing, hoping Darius and Oghren wouldn't overhear. They were discussing something about Oghren being drunk causing Myr to hope absently that Oghren would get punished.
Tez suddenly looked alert, gazing into the throne room. Myr heard a woman panting, talking about darkspawn below the Keep. Instantly Darius and Oghren bounded away. Tez ran to follow, but Myr intercepted it, tackling the deepstalker.
"Finally, I found you." Myr turned, surprised, before diving for a dark corner of the hallway just as Oghren stepped out of the throne room, taking a large drink from the flask. Tez squirmed in her arms, struggling to get out of her grasp.
Myr held the deepstalker tight, right arm pressing its body against her with her right hand clamped around its mouth, the left arm securing it in place. It thrashed, but Myr held tight, until Oghren disappeared down the other end of the hallway.
"I've got you, you little bastard." Myr grinned down at the deepstalker. She stood, but Tez wriggled free of her grasp, biting her arm and running off in the direction Oghren took.
Myr took off after it, angered by the creature's insolence. She chased it into the kitchens, where numerous serving girls freaked out at the sight of the thing, then up a level where the Wardens slept before the darkspawn attack.
"Get back here!" Myr shouted at the deepstalker, which only barked, running into a room on the left side of the long hallway.
Thinking she had the thing trapped, Myr cautiously peered around the door. Tez stood in the center of the room, looking around somewhat frantically. Myr jumped inside, aiming for the creature. Instead, she found herself slipping on some liquid that she didn't notice before.
Blood! Myr thought as she slid on one foot awkwardly. She fell forward, out the window, and as she emerged into open air, Myr thought she could hear the deepstalker laughing, though she figured it must have been her imagination.
And so she fell, plummeting thirty feet to the ground.
ooo
Again, there was that damnable barking.
Myr tried to roll over, but found she hurt way too damn much. Opening her eyes, she was met with a more disgusting sight than she could imagine.
Tez stood over her face, panting, and Myr had a front row seat to the horror that was looking into a deepstalker's worm mouth. Multiple rows of sharp teeth presented themselves, weaving in a circular pattern inside the creature's mouth.
"Stupid mutt..." Myr struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain that covered her entire body. The damned thing tricked her! "You could have killed me, Tez. You knew that blood was there. You knew I'd slip on it."
The deepstalker barked, bounding away a few feet. Myr stared at it angrily, wondering about how many ways one can cook a deepstalker.
"Outsmarted by a mindless worm-dog." Myr shook her head, struggling to get the dirt out of her hair. "Today just isn't my day. How lucky does a person have to be to not notice a pool of blood, slip and then fall out of a window, plummet 30 feet and wake up with a deepstalker panting over me?"
Tez barked as Myr fell backwards. What was the point in all of this? Where the hell was she, anyways? Myr sat back up, examining her surroundings.
From the looks of things, she had fallen into an unusually grassy alleyway somewhere on the eastern side of Vigil's Keep. Ahead of her a few people walked past, either oblivious of or uncaring of the bruised elf girl examining them.
"By the Maker, those ghouls were simply... disgusting." Myr struggled to stand, focusing on the familiar voice. Anders strode by the entrance of the alleyway, Nathaniel Howe next to him, staring forward and unresponsive.
"Indeed." Nathaniel said simply. Myr took a staggering step forward, only to fall to her knees. Nathaniel apparently noticed her out of the corner of his eye. He rushed over, looking her over. Anders followed, staring at Tez.
"There's that damned deepstalker. We could've used him in the fight against those ghouls." Anders rolled his eyes as Tez rubbed against his leg. "Oh no you don't. I'm not accepting any apologies from you. We could have avoided more than one ambush if you were doing your job."
"Are you okay, my lady?" Nathaniel crouched by Myr, extending a hand.
"I don't know, Nathaniel." Myr smirked as Nathaniel looked taken aback, undoubtedly surprised.
"You... knew I lied to you about my name?" Nathaniel asked sheepishly, helping Myr up. "My apologies, but at the time I felt it was necessary to hide who I was, considering what I was about to do. Besides that, what happened to you?"
"My job. Falling out windows and such. I'm fine, by the way." Myr brushed her hair out of her face. She knew she didn't look too great, but a girl had to appear at least halfway decent in most, if not all, situations. Still, she was thoroughly flustered, considering that damned deepstalker. Falling out windows doesn't make someone a happy camper.
"Are you sure?" Nathaniel cocked an eyebrow, but Myr just waved him off. "I mean, that wound on your arm looks pretty serious."
It was only then that Myr noticed she had a large shard of metal lodged in her forearm. Funny how one doesn't feel the pain until you look at the wound. Despite that, there seemed to be an unusually large amount of blood flowing out of it. Were elves allowed to lose that much blood?
"I... feel funny..." Myr staggered backwards as her vision started fading. Finally, she lost balance, falling forward, unable to understand Nathaniel's shouts.
ooo
When she awoke, Myr was surprised to see that, not only was she alive, but she had been resting in exquisite silk sheets in an intricately adorned room. Paintings hung from walls, the sheets were of a fine, deep red and a small fire crackled at the far side, a few yards from the door.
And there was a man in the room.
Instantly Myr checked to make sure she still had all her clothes on. Fortunately, they were all there. Unfortunately, they weren't the ones she had on before. Now she wore fine silks, considerably more comfortable than the rough fabrics from before.
The man, as she soon figured outt, was Nathaniel. He sat near the door, bow in hand, staring at the fire, apparently not noticing Myr had awakened. He was dressed in fine silks as well, some noble dress outfit, Myr guessed.
"Do not worry, my lady." Nathaniel spoke slowly, not even looking at her. Apparently he did notice. "I had Maria change you, as well as clean and dress your wounds. You're very lucky nothing was broken."
"Uh... thanks." Myr said quietly. Nathaniel got up slowly, heading to the door. "Wait! Where are you going?"
"I was ordered to stay away from the throne room while Darius is meeting with the nobles of Amaranthine." Nathaniel turned back to her. The two locked eyes for a moment and Myr found herself squirming under the weight of his gaze. It was powerful... and cold. "I grow tired of being shepherded by a Warden – an Orlesian, nonetheless – so I'm heading down there anyway."
"I'm going too." Myr struggled out of the sheets, planting both of her feet on the ground. She felt dizzy for a moment, but kept her composure.
"I would recommend otherwise, but it's your choice." Nathaniel walked over to her, helping her stand. "Just be careful not to get those clothes too dirty. They were my mothers."
Myr nodded dumbly as Nathaniel supported her. He was gentle, careful, and incredibly damned polite, considering Myr was an elf.
She was expected to help kill this man?
ooo
"Understand that I act as a Grey Warden first, before all else." Darius' voice rang over the throne room, holding the gazes of the numerous nobles in the room. "Do not think of me as Orlesian, or as a member of the Orlesian Imperial Court. I act as an Arl in Ferelden should with all the honor a true-born Ferelden has."
Myr stuck to the doorway by Nathaniel, catching the tail end of Darius' speech. Most of the nobles clapped, though Myr could see more than one turned their noses in disgust. Two in particular stood out: A woman with a pinched face, who obviously had been trying for years to disguise the effects of aging; and a drunk man near the back of the room, who swayed with intoxication.
Darius himself looked rather fancy, which was in stark contrast to how he normally did. Usually he strutted about in faded dragonskin leather armor, hiss identical swords always within easy reach. But now he only had one sword and was dressed in fine silks befitting a man of his station. Despite this, Myr could tell he looked uncomfortable in the formal garb.
Myr noticed Darius immediately head towards the drunk man as murmurs started popping up around the room. The elf hurried towards the drunk noble, trying to keep to the sides of the throne room to avoid being noticed.
"Is that Lord Guy?"
"What an idiot. Being drunk at an event like this..."
"I hear he hates Orlesians."
"Of course he does! His father died in the war!"
Myr finally popped out of the crowd of nobles, giving herself a front-row seat to whatever conflict was going to arise between Lord Guy and Darius. The Warden-Commander approached slowly, yet Lord Guy just sneered. When Darius finally grew close, Lord Guy laughed, spilling his wine on Darius' fancy tunic.
"Oops." Lord Guy snickered. "Sorry 'bout that."
Myr shuddered. His pompous voice and demeanor disgusted her. People like that, people who thought they could act in any manner to anybody they come across with no thought of consequences, had no problem provoking Myr's fury.
"Such disrespect!" Myr heard a noble behind her gasp.
"Oh shut up, woman. The Orlesian deserves it." Lord Guy, apparently, heard that comment.
"Yeah! That's right!" Lord Guy raised his arms, looking over the crowd that had surrounded him and the Warden-Commander. "This is a fucking Orlesian, yet we're expected to bend knee to him? It's the Occupation all over again. Spineless Orlesian pigs don't have the right to order us about, calling 'imself a Ferelden? Ferelden my granny's ass!"
"Guy! Hush already!" Another woman rushed to the drunken noble's side. Darius, still having said nothing, looked at her curiously.
"Shaddup, Morag." Guy stepped forward, pushing Darius. The Warden-Commander stepped back, still saying nothing. "This pushover won't do nothing to us. He's just a puppet for that Celene bitch over in Val Royeaux anyways."
Lord Guy spat out the name of the Orlesian capitol, with some of the spray hitting Darius. Myr had to give the Warden props for not simply executing the man, but she knew as well as anyone that could change fast.
"Guy!" Lady Morag tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Lord Guy pushed Darius again, this time nearly knocking him over. Darius coolly approached Guy as the drunk laughed.
"I gave you a chance to stop yourself, but it seems that didn't work." Darius drew his sword, leveling it to Lord Guy's neck. Immediately he stopped laughing and the room went silent. Myr found she was holding her breath, surprised. "You will leave. Now. If I so much as hear one more word of your worthless slander and drunken antics again, I will have your head on a pike. I may be new to court, but you will show me as much respect as any man is worthy of."
Lord Guy stumbled backwards, eyes wide. He looked about for support but, finding none, he ran off, whimpering. Lady Morag bowed to Darius before following him.
"Such an action may have dire consequences. Darius Caron does not know his place. We should alert our contact about this." Myr turned, hearing another noble speak in low tones. It was a large man in a fancy tunic whispering quietly to another pinched-face noblewoman. His skin was heavily tanned, but his accent was distinctly Ferelden.
"Indeed, Ser Temmerly." The lady replied, glancing at Darius. "I'm certain he will be interested in this turn of events. Guy will be easy to win over to our cause now."
"What about that traitor?" Ser Temmerly whispered as the crowd started filtering out again, dispersing across the room while they mingled. The two nobles migrated to a corner of the room, near the exit, out of sight for most. Myr cautiously followed, trying to make it seem as if she was simply admiring a painting, that of a beautiful woman.
"Ser Tamra?" The lady looked thoughtful for a second, before smiling evilly. "I think I know what you want. Go ahead. Indulge in your fancies. I'm certain you know how to convey her punishment."
"You impress me, my lady." Ser Temmerly bent down, kissing her hand. "Once all this is over, perhaps we should try and deviate our thoughts from this dark business. Have a little fun, I mean."
The lady turned suddenly, looking directly at Myr, anger on her face. "You! Elf! Why are you dressed in silks? Don't you know your place?"
"I'm just... I-" Myr started, but the pinched-face noble interrupted.
"You think I care about your excuses, you little bitch?" The woman approached. Ser Temmerly did as well, grabbing Myr by the ear. Myr gasped as the man twisted it painfully, which wasn't hard to do, as Myr's ears were fairly long, even for an elf. "Such disrespect! And among nobles! I'll have a word with your supervisor about this!"
"She's kinda pretty, though." Ser Temmerly grinned, staring lasciviously at her. "Let me take care of her, Lady Packton. I know exactly how to discipline these... upstarts. Besides, I suspect she might have heard a little bit of something she shouldn't have."
Myr tried to shout for help, but Ser Temmerly clamped his hand around her mouth, dragging her towards a side door. She looked around, panicking, but nobody so much as looked in her direction. Lady Packton stared at her, satisfied.
She spied Nathaniel on the other side of the room just before turning the corner. Myr tried to shout for help, but he didn't hear. He didn't even turn her way.
ooo
Myr hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. A few feet away, blocking the exit to the small alleyway, stood Ser Temmerly, a scabbard in one hand, a sword in the other. Myr scrambled to her feet in an attempt to make a dash for safety, but Ser Temmerly's scabbard caught her upside the face, knocking her back again.
"Oh no you don't, you feisty mynx." Ser Temmerly licked his lips, sending shivers up Myr's spine. She knew what was going to happen next and it wasn't pleasant. She had no weapons and thus no way to defend herself. Not to mention how she was already wounded from her fall, she had no way to free herself.
"Look, maybe we can work something out..." Myr backed away, but found her back hit the end of the alleyway. Ser Temmerly was smart when it came to this sort of thing. He picked a perfect location: Isolated, one exit that was easily blocked, a lot of open air to disperse screaming as well as the cover of night.
"Work something out? But we already have!" Ser Temmerly lashed out again, smacking Myr in the side of the face with his scabbard. He dug his sword in between Myr's legs when she hit the ground, temporarily paralyzing the elf with fear.
"You... you don't want to do this!" Myr's mind raced as she tried to think of a spell, any spell, that could get her out of this. She was tired, wounded, frightened and couldn't think clearly. She tried to crawl away, ripping her silk dress in process.
So much for your mother's dress, Nathaniel. Myr thought bitterly as another blow contacted her, this time on her arm. Still Ser Temmerly approached, leering at her, lust in his eyes.
"But I do. I do so badly. You're very pretty, little elf." Ser Temmerly crouched over her, bringing his face mere inches from Myr's. She tried to withdraw, but he grabbed her wrists, bringing them up over her head, useless. She tried to kick at him, but he had her pinned.
"Somebody help me!" Myr felt tears form at the edges of her eyes as she shouted, but to no avail. Ser Temmerly pressed closer, smothering her lips with his, invading her mouth. Seeing no other option, she bit down, tearing deep into Ser Temmerly's tongue.
"You little bitch!" Ser Temmerly withdrew, holding one hand to his mouth as blood dripped out. "I'd prefer you alive, but I guess I have to make do otherwise!"
Ser Temmerly grabbed his sword, bringing it over his head. Myr closed her eyes, awaiting that final blow that would end her life.
But it never came.
Myr opened her eyes slowly, only to find Ser Temmerly was raised up in the air by some dark shape lurking behind him. Whoever, or whatever, had him gripped slammed Ser Temmerly into the wall, knocking him unconscious. The shape let go, letting the knight fall to the ground.
Cautious but grateful, Myr stood slowly, examining the newcomer, who stood over Ser Temmerly, a jagged sword gripped as though the shape was about to stab him. She looked him over, seeing a vague bit of familiarity in his features. He wore robes the color of pitch and a golden staff lay on the ground a few feet away, shining faintly in the dark.
"Adrian...?" Myr said as realization hit her suddenly. Though she had heard of his exploits, she hadn't actually seen the man in over two and a half years. But... he was supposed to be dead. A memory rushed through her head at that moment, that of the last time she saw him. It was at the doorway of the Circle Tower, moments before Myr ran away to her freedom. The memory of when she last kissed him, back when she had loved him.
"Looks like you remember me." Adrian lowered the sword slowly, sheathing it instead of running Ser Temmerly through. Myr wasn't sure if she should tell him to kill the man or not.
"You're dead, though." Myr stared disbelievingly at him, uncertain of how she should react. She had heard he died in Denerim, run through by R, who disappeared shortly afterward. "I mean, I thought you were. Everyone thinks you are."
"I had thought you dead as well, Myr." Adrian turned, locking eyes with her. Myr stepped back, surprised. "When Greagoir told me of your demise, I believed him. I hated the templars for what they had done to you. By extension, I even hated the Chantry."
"Your eyes..." Myr stared at him, uncertain. He seemed... different. "What happened to your eyes? They're supposed to be brown, not... red."
"Possession mutates people. Those who can barely even resist change their physical form dramatically, becoming deformed creatures known as abominations." Adrian shook his head as Myr started to realize what he was saying. "For us mages with more power, more ability to fight back, we can prevent that. The only cost I had was my natural eye color. If I had been as strong as Uldred I may have been completely unchanged, physically."
"Then you're... an abomination?" The words came out as barely a gasp. "But you don't seem like one. You don't even act like R did. I mean, he seemed pretty crazy sometimes, but you just seem... normal."
"It's been a long time since you escaped, Myr." Adrian suddenly seemed sad, further reinforcing Myr's idea that Adrian still possessed his mind. "Everyone changes given enough time. Nothing is immutable."
"I remember you used to say nobody ever changes." Myr smirked, before sighing. "But I guess you did."
She suddenly felt uncertain. She had avoided Adrian for so long because she had assumed him a tool of the Chantry ever since her "demise". A stupid rationalization, surely, but Adrian was also the reason why she traveled to Denerim in the first place, though events got wildly out of control once she actually arrived there. No small thanks to Saul for that, anyway.
"I guess I've proven myself wrong." Adrian turned away, picking up his staff as he walked to the end of the alleyway.
"Wait!" Myr rushed to his side, grabbing his arm. "You can't just leave like this! I haven't seen you in nearly three years! I mean, you're practically an abomination, aren't you? That's gotta be an interesting thing to talk about!"
"Why aren't you afraid?" Adrian asked, surprising Myr. She pondered it for a second, before glancing back at Ser Temmerly.
"I don't think I have to worry if you just saved me from him." Myr smiled. Adrian cocked an eyebrow, before breaking their eye contact by looking up at the night sky. For a second, Myr thought he looked confused, but the man's emotions were hard to read anyway.
"Forgive me, but there are things I must do. People I have to kill. That sort of thing." And Adrian turned away. Myr grabbed him again, pulling him back.
Surprised by this, Adrian overbalanced slightly, leaning over just enough for Myr to pull him close, kissing him. Maybe it was just because she was still freaked out about Ser Temmerly, maybe she was grateful, or maybe she still felt something for this phantom for her past, but Myr didn't immediately realize she might have made a mistake.
Still, Adrian returned in kind, dropping his staff and wrapping an arm around the elf. They held their position for a few moments before Adrian backed away, picking up his staff.
"This isn't the last time I'm ever going to see you, right?" Myr asked, her hand still on Adrian's arm. "I mean, we have a lot to catch up on. And I mean a lot."
"Maybe. Amaranthine has much to hold my interest for the time being." Adrain backed away, and this time Myr let him go. "Goodbye, Myr."
Myr tried to grab him again, but he had already disappeared. She stood there in the darkness, wondering what had just happened. Eventually, she walked away absently, not even bothering to so much as kick Ser Temmerly in revenge, let alone kill him.
It wasn't until later that she realized she technically just cheated on Saul. Myr cringed, but somewhere, inside of her, she felt as if she understood something.
That whatever was going to happen next would vastly overshadow whatever conflicting feelings she was getting. This wasn't just about helping Saul get his revenge anymore. Suddenly Myr was curious and she was in the perfect position to find more information. Events were unfolding that would change the face of Thedas forever.
She needed to find Adrian.