Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T+
Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Awakening, Origins DL content, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.
Chapter Sixty-Two: Ding Dong the Arl Is Dead
Worst case scenario: the King and Queen cave in to pressure from the Landsmeet and have Loghain executed for murder, for treason, for overstepping his bounds…for whatever charge they could hang on him.
Worse worst case scenario: the King and Queen cave in to pressure from the Landsmeet and have Loghain executed, and the alienage raided.
Likely scenario: the King and Queen uphold the verdict, chastise Loghain for stirring up the nobility without first giving them time to prepare, and then knuckle down and weather the inevitable shitstorm to follow. It was what he expected, but he believed in recognizing the worst that could happen so as not to be taken by surprise.
It wouldn't take long for the shitstorm to strike, since a high proportion of the nobility wintered in Denerim. By the time he made it back to the palace word had probably already begun to spread. In fact, the outraged legions (or at least two or three angry nobles) were probably already marshalling for a march on the palace. And so Loghain strode directly to the throne room, where he blithely interrupted court with the abrupt announcement that Arl Vaughan was dead and he was responsible for it, but "the bastard had it coming."
Anora swore and put her face in her hand. Alistair blinked, shook his head, blinked again, and said, "Okay, I think I may require a little more explanation than that." Loghain gave a brief description of the trial, the evidence, and the execution. Alistair sighed. "Okay, I knew Vaughan was a bastard, but I never knew he was a sick bastard."
Anora said. "I'm glad he's gone, and I'm glad it was done as an act of the Crown rather than an act of vigilante justice, but Maker's Breath, Father, this is going to be hard to smooth over with the Landsmeet."
"I want to know that the alienage has Royal protection from any repercussions," Loghain said. "People are going to be pissed off - if they try to take revenge on the elves even unofficially I'm going to put a stop to it. No matter how many skulls I have to break. They want to punish somebody, they can punish me."
"Ha! I'd like to see them try," Alistair said. Anora gave him a severe glare. "What I mean is, we aren't going to let anybody punish anybody, right?" he backfilled. "We'll uphold this ruling."
"Indeed. But I want you to document the evidence and witness testimony as quickly as possible, Father," Anora said. "It will be easier to defend our position when we have that in hand. Come in early tomorrow morning and you can dictate the details to our court reporter."
Elilia burst into the throne room, clad haphazardly in her fox fur cloak and not much else, and Haakon padded at her heels. "Is it true? Is Vaughan really dead?"
"He's dead," Loghain said.
"Maker's breath. I don't know whether to dance or just sing."
"Eli…what on earth are you wearing?" Alistair asked. She gave him a superior stare.
"One of my husband's linen shirts, Your Majesty," she said primly. Indeed, that was all she wore beneath the cloak, aside from a pair of heavy boots. The shirt was almost knee-length on her, and the half-laced neck exposed no more of her bust than the gowns she'd been wearing lately; nevertheless it was quite an ensemble. "I was wakened from quite a lovely nap with the news of Vaughan's death. I apologize for not taking the time to don my best finery. I suspected Loghain had something to do with it, and needed to know he wasn't going to be beheaded or anything. The servants were rather panicked."
"Elilia, I don't want to behead your husband. Not anymore," Alistair said, with a roll of his eyes.
"Yes. Well, wives worry about that kind of thing. Who's Vaughan's next of kin?"
"As it happens, his closest living relatives are Nathaniel and Delilah Howe. I'm not certain who his named heir might be. We'll have to send someone in to the estate to look for his will, if he left one, and documentation on who his closest living relations are," Anora said. "I think the likeliest candidate for the Arling is Bann Nicola of Westfaire."
"Nicola would make a good Arlessa, I think. She's done a good job with Westfaire," Elilia said. "I know it's a small holding, but she's smart about finances, so that's a plus. Denerim's City Accounts have done nothing but dwindle under Vaughan's management, and nothing to show for it. The only improvements in this town in the last ten years have been funded privately or by the Crown."
"When you're looking through Vaughan's documents, look for the deeds to properties in the alienage. Considering he was convicted of serious crimes there, I think the Crown ought to confiscate those properties. No matter who his heir might be, they shouldn't profit from his depravities," Loghain said.
Alistair and Anora shared a significant look. "I think that probably is something we should consider doing," Anora said cautiously. "In cases such as this, the Crown would typically confiscate the holdings of the convicted. I don't think we should go so far as that, but the alienage suffered more than enough under Vaughan. And imagine what we could do to improve things there now."
Elilia coughed significantly. "Vaughan owned about half the property there, Your Majesties. I would like to speak with you privately, at a later date, about the other half."
"And now, if Your Majesties have no objections, I'd like to go home," Loghain said. "It's been a hell of a day, and my wife is standing here just next door to naked, so I think it's time to say goodnight."
"Oh. Er, yes, I think that probably is best. We'll get things sorted with regards to inheritance and other relevant documents," Alistair said. "Good evening, both of you. Don't worry about the alienage; I'll make sure no one bothers the elves."
Loghain put his arm around Elilia's shoulders and, with their mabari proudly leading the way, they walked out of the palace together. Evening was drawing on and the temperature was falling; underdressed Elilia huddled close against his side for warmth. And maybe for another reason, as well.
"I think I'd like a hot bath, when I get home," she said. "And I think I'd like you to join me in it."
"That sounds like a plan to me," Loghain said. He kissed the top of her head. "You know…I may have a surfeit of wax in my ears, but I believe you actually called me your husband today. You haven't done that before."
"Yes, well…it still strikes me as a strange sort of word for me to use, but I can't say I don't like it. Walk faster, eh? I'm freezing my knees off." Loghain chuckled and adjusted her cloak so that his arm pinned it tighter about her.
Back at Gwaren House, Elilia directed the relieved and attentive servants to draw a hot bath in the master bathchamber and promptly disappeared. Loghain went about the business of putting up his sword and preparing himself for the bath, and soon enough she reappeared.
"I, uh…thought of something I'd like you to have," she said, rather shyly. "I know you're not much on jewelry, but this played a part in Ferelden history so maybe it's of interest to you."
She presented him with a slender silver ring. A tiny, hand-engraved seal carved into the band was still legible, though much faded with time and wear. The words were Alamarri, and roughly translated read "Rat Immortal." He stared at it for a long time in silence so intense she feared she had somehow offended him.
"It's…it's the seal of Rat Red," she said nervously. "I know he was just a folktale of the Rebellion, but I thought maybe you'd like it anyway. You don't have to wear it or anything."
Loghain slipped the ring onto his left pinkie finger. "He wasn't a folktale, and he wasn't a man, either - or rather, not one man, but five. And when one died, or otherwise couldn't fulfill his role any longer, he passed his ring - and the name - on to another. This is an amazing gift, my dear, and I thank you for it. I can't even begin to state how much it means to me."
Elilia's shoulders relaxed. "Whew, for a moment there you had me worried. I'm glad you like it. You evidently know the story behind the story of Rat Red - can I hear it?"
"Ha. You've heard just about all of it I know, I'm afraid."
A servant bowed in at the doorway and announced the bath was ready. He made a polite, professional disappearance and the couple retired to the bath chamber, where they helped each other out of their clothes and into the deep stone basin. Installed during Loghain's original tenure as Teyrn of Gwaren, it was very much larger than the average Ferelden bathtub, and held the both of them easily, if snugly. Snug suited them just fine.
There was a long interval where Elilia was unable to speak, and a longer interval where she was uninterested in speaking, but finally she stretched herself sinuously alongside his body and kissed him before asking, "So how is it you came to know so much about Rat Red? My father didn't know anything beyond the folktale, and in all of his stories, old Howe never told of anything more than the standard 'Immortal Rat' tale." She cocked a shrewd brow at him. "You weren't ever Rat Red, were you?"
He laughed. "No, I wasn't. But you're not far off all the same."
He raised his left hand out of the water and looked at the band of silver. "There were five of these rings, that I know of. I don't know if they were all identical or all unique - I've never seen but one of them before. But that one looked very much like this one, and it was worn by my father. He inherited it from a stranger that came to us, beaten and dying. I don't think he was able to pass it on himself before he was killed. Maybe it didn't matter by that point, since in five years we'd drive the Chevaliers out at River Dane, and it wasn't much later than that before Meghren's head decorated the Denerim gates he so liked to display Ferelden heads upon. No more need for the Immortal Rat."
"So…this might once have been your father's ring," Elilia said.
"It's a possibility. I call it a fairly remote chance myself, but I suppose Laz Brosca would say it had to be the same ring."
"I like the way Laz thinks." Elilia sighed happily and snuggled against his chest. "I'm glad it turned out to have personal significance to you; if I'd known I'd have given it to you ages ago. I've had it since the Blight. I never really even thought about it in all these years, except on odd occasions when it surfaced in a handful of coin I took out of my purse. Glad I hung on to it."
"What made you think to give it to me now?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm happy to have a pretty major problem solved, of course. Vaughan was a pig and a thorn in the side. But it's more than that…I feel like you've rectified a mistake I made a decade ago, when I let the bastard out of the dungeon Howe locked him in. I don't want this getting around, you understand, but I wasn't necessarily…one hundred percent myself, at that time - by which I mean the whole year between what happened to my family and…well, probably the time I found out Fergus was still alive. There were times I acted with…shall we say…at least a degree of willful wickedness. Alistair always thought I was quite a jolly person; I was actually about half a breath from insane with rage most of that time. One of the things that made me angriest was how cheerful he always was, when he wasn't moping about Duncan. All of them - Alistair, Wynne, Leliana. My pious contingent. It's strange...I valued their companionship, considered them friends...and hated them at the same time."
"I never would have guessed, my darling, that you were capable of willful wickedness," Loghain said dryly, "but now at last I understand your motivation for keeping me alive. You wanted to piss off Golden Boy, and the Circle Mage."
"No," she said. "But maybe there was an element there of wanting someone on my side who didn't need to be led. I never really felt quite up to the task of being in charge, but there was no chance in hell Alistair was going to step up. I'm glad he's overcome that reticence. I would guess that if his marriage hadn't started out contentiously that wouldn't have happened."
"I would guess you had a hand in preparing him to step up," Loghain said. "You came into your strength in abominably harsh circumstances, my dear, and I am sorry for the hand I had in making them rougher, but you did what you had to do and you did it very well indeed. I'm proud of you. And in case I haven't said it often enough, I love you."
A/N: For me, writing is kind of a form of mental bulemia: I stick a finger in my brain and puke up a chapter. Most of the time I can do this more or less whenever I want to. This chapter very nearly required an emetic, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I came up with something last night I wanted to add, but have completely forgotten what that might have been. Oh well. It was rough because after building up to lopping Vaughan's head off for so long it was evident whatever happened next would be anticlimactic; it was hard to figure out just where to go from there. But now that the immediate aftermath is out of the way I should be able to proceed to other issues.