Sebastian heard the clash of weaponry even before he turned the corner. With only a week before the wedding, it was a challenge to find any time away from his office. Even this visit to the yard was not the archery practice he longed for, but yet another pressing obligation he'd put off too long. Still, the fresh air was pleasant, and the sun on his face reminded him that in less than a fortnight all this planning would be but a memory.
That time couldn't come soon enough.
But first: duty.
Pausing, he listened. Sword meeting sword. Sword meeting shield. A muffled grunt. A curse in Arcanum. A different one in the common tongue. A few steps more brought Sebastian into the practice yard, but still he kept well back, content to watch the spectacle without being noticed himself.
Even without using the advantages afforded him by his markings, Fenris was always a force to be reckoned with, and though it was by no means a rare sight these days, any time the elf was in the practice yard he drew a crowd. This morning was no exception. It was not quite the exhibition of the archery contest, but every guard not on duty seemed to have gravitated to the yard.
Not only guards, Sebastian noted with a smile; a coterie of ladies, both servant and noble alike, tittered in one corner, talking behind their hands or their fans. He caught himself looking automatically for Kiara amongst them, before remembering his beleaguered betrothed was ensconced—trapped, was her word—in yet another dress fitting.
"How many times do they have to fit me?" she'd moaned as they broke their fast together in his office. "Maker, Sebastian, it's not like I keep changing size. Can't they just make it right the first time?"
It made him smile to remember her face as she'd been led away, as tragic and reluctant as a woman headed to the gallows.
Truly, she had an obscene number of fittings. It made no more sense to him than it did to her, but thankfully he did not have to be involved.
Fenris circled, a blunted greatsword at the ready, and when his opponent followed his lead, Sebastian smirked to see Kinnon, flushed with exertion and sweat dripping into his eyes, was the other combatant. The knight, more quickly than Sebastian would have expected of him, darted in, feinted, and though his attack failed, he still managed to have his shield up in time to deflect Fenris' blow. The force drove him hard to one knee. Even with practice weapons, Sebastian winced at the sound, and imagined Kinnon's arm must be aching to the shoulder.
"Do you yield?" Fenris called. Sebastian saw Kinnon shake his head in the negative even as he took a moment to shake his shield arm. By the time Fenris came at him again, however, Kinnon was once again at the ready. Other soldiers called out advice, but Kinnon did not appear to heed them, his attention wholly focused on the task at hand.
Leaning against the wall, far from the view of combatants and crowd alike, Sebastian watched intently. Kinnon knew he was outmatched, and Sebastian could see him trying to think his way around the problem. It wasn't simple, of course. In this case, the problem was stronger, faster, and carrying a weapon with longer reach.
The problem could also pull Kinnon's heart from his chest with his bare hands, but Sebastian doubted the knight was considering such a dire outcome. Sebastian allowed himself to imagine it, however, just for a moment, though not with any of the earlier vitriol the knight had once engendered.
Once, twice, Fenris tested Kinnon's defenses. Once, twice, Kinnon held firm and allowed the elf no advantage. The third time Fenris moved toward him, however, the knight stepped back at the last possible moment, eerily quick, and Fenris was distracted just enough—thrown just enough off balance—for Kinnon to lunge, catching him in what most certainly would have been a death blow had the blade not been blunted.
Fenris grunted, lowered the point of his own blade, and nodded. "Well done."
For half a heartbeat, Kinnon looked as though the elf had just given him the keys to a kingdom. Then he recollected himself, wiped at least some of the grin from his face, and offered Fenris a formal salute. Sebastian knew the elf well enough to know he was momentarily taken aback by the courtesy, but after a moment he merely nodded briskly and strode away, rolling the kinks from his shoulders as he went. A number of the giggling, gossiping ladies followed his departure with their eyes and Sebastian snorted lightly. The Hawke sisters bring with them a world of disappointed hopes for the young ladies of Starkhaven. With an amused quirk of his lips, he crossed the yard and caught Kinnon just as the young knight was removing his shield.
"A word, Kinnon?"
Kinnon blinked owlishly, and looked around as if hoping to find some other man of the same name in the near vicinity. When he saw he was alone, he returned his attention to Sebastian and blinked again, executing a far more awkward salute than the one he'd just given Fenris. "Your Highness. I, uh, forgive me, I didn't see you."
"I didn't want to interrupt the bout."
Kinnon's lips turned up in a self-deprecating little smile. "I think he went easy on me, my lord."
"Fenris never goes easy," Sebastian replied. "And he meant his praise. It was well done, Kinnon. You're quicker than you look."
Pushing the sweaty curls from his brow with one hand, Kinnon raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying I… look slow?"
"No, indeed. I have not forgotten you were once fast enough to take an arrow for me. I meant only that plate armor is hardly known for its maneuverability, but you manage it well."
The knight inclined his head. "I don't much like plate, actually, Your Highness. I know it's expected, but when I first learned, Maisie and I only had ragged old leathers to keep from gutting ourselves. Heavy armor… took some getting used to." A shadow crossed his face when he realized he'd spoken of his disgraced and imprisoned one-time partner. His traitorous friend. "Have you… have you decided what you'll do with her, Your Highness?"
Sebastian did not answer at once. Kinnon did not look away, didn't flinch, but he could see the lingering pain in the younger man's eyes, and disappointment and anger stiffened the set of his shoulders.
Still carefully watching Kinnon's reactions, Sebastian said, "I thought I might let you decide."
"Me? Maker, what for?" The astonishment was genuine, of that Sebastian was certain. It almost amused him, except the subject was too grim. "Y-your Highness, that's—that's a punishment you should name, certainly. Or… or perhaps the new captain? When you appoint one?"
"Aye, Kinnon," Sebastian replied. "As it happens, that was my intention."
The confusion didn't ebb. If anything, it grew only stronger, furrowing the young knight's brow. "But I—Your Highness, you're not—my lord, you can't be serious."
Kinnon's expression was horrified, and Sebastian allowed himself a moment of doubt. He'd anticipated any number of reactions, but horror hadn't been on the list. Smugness, perhaps. Or glee. Or pride. Nothing that might cause a man's eyes to widen, his knuckles to turn white around the hilt of his blade, and his cheeks to drain of color.
"You have proven yourself loyal to Starkhaven, to me and to Kiara, on any number of occasions. Some… restructuring may be in order, and I trust you to know what needs to be done. The position is yours, if you'll have it, Kinnon."
The knight said nothing. He didn't so much as blink, and when a rogue drop of sweat rolled down his cheek, he made no move to brush it away. Sebastian saw him swallow hard before he said, "A-as you will, Your Highness."
"Maker's breath, man. It's a promotion, not a death sentence."
Kinnon nodded, but didn't quite look him in the eye. "Is this… did Lady Kiara put you up to…?"
Sebastian shook his head. "She knows I intended to ask, but the decision was mine. Kinnon, am I to understand you don't wish to take the position?"
Again Kinnon was silent too long, and Sebastian saw his throat constrict as he swallowed. "I… I wouldn't want to disappoint you, Your Highness."
"But you don't want to be Captain?"
Kinnon bowed his head. Sebastian had the strangest feeling he'd hurt the man somehow, and he was so baffled he nearly missed it when the knight replied softly, "I'm not a leader."
"Elias looked to you often enough."
Kinnon's dark eyes darted up before glancing past Sebastian again, out toward the practice yard. Several more pairs were sparring, and Fenris was practicing alone, much to the despair of the poor dummy taking the brunt of his attacks. "I-I'm a good lieutenant, Highness. I'm a good second. But I know myself. A captain—a good captain—has to have eyes everywhere. He or she has to know everything going on. I'm… Your Highness, if I say so myself, I am a very good guard when I'm asked to guard something specific."
"As I have had cause to witness."
The knight nodded again, his shoulders slumping. "I am honored, Your Highness. More honored than you know, especially… especially given the wrong foot we started out on. But I won't make you a good captain. I'll be in over my head before the week is out—and this is… this is a very important week, my lord."
Sebastian knew that well enough. Dignitaries and guests had already begun to arrive, and more were expected at any moment; amazing how quickly travel could be arranged when the motivator was a royal wedding. Still, minutes and hours were slipping away at alarming speed. "Aye," he finally said with a nod. "You've got the right of that, Kinnon."
"And getting in over my head on this of all weeks might end with me losing my head." When Sebastian shot the knight a stern look, Kinnon amended, saying, "A week in the dungeons then, maybe. Bread and water rations. Accompanied by the crippling guilt of having failed you. Which I would much rather not do." His tone was light enough, but the color hadn't yet returned to his cheeks.
Still, isn't it better to beware those who crave leadership and power? Kinnon does not want it, but mightn't that make him the best choice? Sebastian thought about pressing the matter, but found himself asking instead, "If you yourself are not interested in taking over the post, who would you recommend?"
This question evidently startled the younger man as well, but not to the extent the promotion had. "Well, my lord, the captain should be someone loyal to Starkhaven, who… who leads well, but not blindly." Sebastian arched an eyebrow, and Kinnon hastened to add, "Someone who might… not challenge your word, but who wouldn't be afraid to speak up if he feared you were acting rashly."
Sebastian's eyebrow arched higher and Kinnon's face flooded with all the color he'd lost earlier.
"…Which obviously isn't me," he mumbled, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck.
"I do take your point," Sebastian finally replied on a sigh. "I must rely on those around me to keep me honest. And, believe it or not, I do appreciate your honesty on that score."
"Thank you, my lord." Pushing a hand through his hair, Kinnon sighed. "Captain Elias' boots won't be easy to fill."
"But you have no recommendation you'd offer?"
Kinnon let out a breath and turned to survey the still-bustling practice yard. Archers shot arrows into far-off targets. Two men Sebastian knew for off-duty Eyes sparred dangerously with daggers that looked not in the least bit dulled as they glinted sharply in the golden autumn sunlight. A number of the guard still worked in pairs, some dressed down in leathers as they clashed quarterstaves against each other, others in full armor battling it out with swords as Kinnon and Fenris had. Toward the back of the yard, Sebastian saw the elf in question had momentarily paused his abuse of the practice dummy to demonstrate a particularly complicated attack pattern to a pair of younger knights, both of whom wielded greatswords.
"You might ask the men. They'll tell you true."
"And if they tell me they would like to see you lead them?"
Kinnon gave an indelicate snort and shook his head. "Then I'll take the job just so I can lock them up in the dungeon for being so bloody daft."
"You realize that might leave you with no men under your command."
"I'll take my chances, Your Highness." Kinnon shook his head again, more definitely. "They won't choose me. They know better than that. If she weren't to be so busy, I'd suggest naming your future wife." Kinnon's tone held a hint of jest, but layered with seriousness. "They'd follow her. I… I hope you know that, Your Highness. Some of the nobility might be snide, but the guard knows her merit."
Sebastian inclined his head, accepting the compliment more graciously than Kiara would have done. "And were she not to be so very busy, she might even accept. Maker knows the woman inspires loyalty. Sadly, she has any number of responsibilities—most unfamiliar to her—and they will not leave her time enough."
Kinnon's lips quirked. "I bet Tasia'd be glad to hear that. Can you imagine the fits she'd have, trying to marry Princess and Captain of the Guard in a single outfit?"
"And Kiara can't wrap her head around the concept of an archery gown."
The young knight laughed. "Poor Tasia."
"Poor Tasia, what?"
Kinnon jumped visibly, his eyes widening, and Sebastian chuckled. The maid in question was standing behind Kinnon, having approached silently from within the palace, her cheeks pink and her arms crossed over her chest. Sebastian saw the knight's gaze slip downward before latching very firmly to Tasia's face. "Poor Tasia…" Kinnon began weakly. "Poor Tasia's had to deal with Lady Kiara in a mood all week, hasn't she. We, uh, feel sorry for you."
Tasia's eyebrow rose very, very slowly and then stayed lifted. She said nothing. Kinnon twitched. Sebastian swallowed his smile and looked toward Fenris, still battling away with several other warriors, to keep from laughing at Kinnon's misfortune.
"Speaking of Lady Kiara," Tasia said archly, "as you tell me you were, have either of you seen her? She's meant to be at a meeting."
"Wasn't she meant to be at a dress fitting?"
Tasia's expression was long-suffering. "The dress fitting was ages ago. She disappeared afterward, even though I'm certain I mentioned this meeting as well, before she went to the fitting this morning."
"And is this meeting she's missing in any way related to the wedding?"
Tasia turned her eyebrow on him. "Of course, Your Highness."
Sebastian suddenly understood Kinnon's twitching. Maintaining his composure—he hoped—he shook his head. "I've no idea. I'm afraid she's rather reached her limit. Not that I blame her. Her hiding places are only bound to get more obscure."
On a heavy sigh, Tasia nodded. "I feared as much. I've already looked in the most obvious ones."
"She and Amelle may have gone into town," Sebastian suggested. If Isabela was not off on her very pressing mission to make certain Aveline was as present for Kiara's wedding as Kiara'd been at hers, Sebastian felt certain his beloved would already have sold all her belongings—and perhaps her soul—to induce Isabela to sail her to Rivain and far away from the endless chattering of the wedding planners.
Aghast, Tasia scowled. "She was not dressed for a visit to town. Neither of them were."
Almost under his breath, Kinnon muttered, "I'd put money on that's where they are, then."
The maid shot him a flushed, frustrated glance, and Sebastian felt a moment of pity for her. Hers was not an easy job, and right now she was playing lady's maid and personal steward and wrangler all at the same time. Kinnon's expression softened, and Sebastian wondered if the knight was coming to the same conclusion; Tasia looked so dreadfully harried. "I'll help you look," Kinnon offered. "She has to be somewhere. And if she can't be found, I'll even face down the raging ladies for you."
Tasia didn't quite smile, but some heavy thing shifted and her shoulders straightened. "I'm sure you're needed elsewhere, Ser Kinnon—"
"Not at all," Sebastian interjected, before the young woman could scare her would-be partner off. "He's off-duty. And he's already bested Fenris and turned down a promotion. I'd say his work in the practice yard is done."
The knight blushed again, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
"Turned down a promotion?" Tasia asked, and for a moment all the artifice disappeared. "What promotion?"
Sebastian said nothing, so Kinnon was forced to reply. "His Highness was under the… misapprehension I might be a suitable replacement for Captain Elias."
The smile started slowly, spreading across Tasia's cheeks. Her eyes sparkled. And then she giggled. When she looked up at Sebastian, she giggled again. "Oh, Your Highness," she said, shaking her head. "Oh. Oh, Maker's breath, no!" For a moment she looked as though she was going to say something more, but further giggles stole her words.
Sebastian hazarded a brief glance toward Kinnon, whose expression was caught somewhere between embarrassed and horrified.
"Surely—" Sebastian began, only to be interrupted at once by Tasia again.
"No. Ser Kinnon has many talents, I'm sure, Your Highness, but… Captain of the Guard?"
"Andraste's tears," Kinnon muttered. "I could do it, you know."
Tasia reached out, patting the back of his hand in sympathy. "You have any number of sterling qualities, Kinnon, but leadership? Or, Maker-forfend, organization? No."
The knight scowled, but Sebastian saw the hurt ghosting behind his eyes. Tasia tilted her head and smiled, dimpling, and for just an instant Sebastian felt like an interloper. Something about the smile chased the hurt away, and Kinnon said lightly, "So, tell me about these other sterling qualities you think I have, and I'll help you find our future princess, no matter where she's hiding."
Cheeks tinged ever so slightly pink, Tasia rolled her shoulders. "It may take me some time to think of the specifics."
Kinnon smirked. "Ahh, well. It may take us some time to find Lady Kiara. There's no rush."
Tasia rolled her eyes and immediately started off in a swirl of skirts. Kinnon turned his smirk on Sebastian and hooked a thumb toward the departing maid. "I'm starting to think she likes me, Highness. She did say sterling, after all."
"Indeed," Sebastian agreed gravely. "Best think how you plan to propose, Kinnon."
Kinnon sputtered, eyes going wide, before offering a jerky salute and stumbling after Tasia. Sebastian allowed himself a brief chuckle as he watched them depart. He saw Kinnon offer his arm, and after a moment, Tasia accept it.
Sebastian was still fairly certain they'd have no luck hunting down his hiding fiancee, however. On a sigh, he turned back to the practice yard. He was no closer to solving his problem, either. He admired Kinnon's forthrightness, and could even see why the man was right to refuse the position, but a palace needed a Captain of the Guard. A palace about to play host to a coronation and a wedding in a Free Marches climate that might almost be classified as hostile—the ripples of what had happened in Kirkwall were far-reaching, even with the amount of damage control Revered Mother Illona was doing, and intended to do—required one even more.
Watching a particularly heated bout between Fenris and a different knight armed with sword and shield, he found himself wishing for Aveline. Fenris swiftly put the other soldier flat on his back, before crossing to stand next to Sebastian. He seemed hardly to have broken a sweat. The elf inclined his head in greeting, before turning his gaze to mimic Sebastian's.
"They are coming along well," Fenris said at length. "Your captain did the best he could, and it shows. Even amongst those whom he did not personally train in archery."
Sebastian nodded, but said nothing.
"You are not pleased?" Fenris queried, lifting a dark eyebrow.
"They need a new captain. I am… honestly, I am not familiar enough with their structure, or with them as individuals, to know whom to name. I asked Ser Kinnon—"
Fenris interrupted him with a low chuckle. "No, Sebastian. He's a fine guard, and a good man, but he's no captain. Such a position would break him within the month."
Sebastian blinked. "So everyone says. Himself included."
"Then he is wiser than I took him for. But still not a leader of men."
Holding his hands wide in a gesture of supplication mixed with surrender, Sebastian said, "Who is?"
"Hawke," Fenris replied at once. "You. Though perhaps not Guard-Captain material, I believe Amelle possesses those qualities as well; she is coming into them only now after spending so much of her life hiding. I don't suppose you are able to recruit the Knight-Commander?"
Huffing a laugh, Sebastian said, "And give the Divine yet another reason to be displeased with me? Best not." Sebastian paused, weighing his words. "I'd ask you if I could, Fenris. You've done a great deal even in such a brief time with them."
The corner of Fenris' mouth turned up very faintly. "I am happy to lend my aid while Amelle yet remains in Starkhaven. Until she decides she might stay, I could not accept such a role in good conscience, even were you to offer it." The elf watched another bout, his expression thoughtful. "Though… though I find myself… strangely affected by the idea. It is strange. I believe I would agree, were things different, and I had not expected it to be so." Fenris lifted his hands, staring at the markings on the skin there, before flipping them over to peer at his calloused palms. "I have long been solitary. First it was safer. Then it was habit. Even these past years, with Hawke, a part of myself remained… aloof."
"Ready to run?"
After a moment's contemplation, Fenris nodded. "I believe so."
"And you no longer wish to do so?"
"I have come to see the strength in forming attachments, where previously I saw only weakness. It is a small thing, perhaps, but I have had some time to consider it while I watch the way your guard works. They are stronger because they work in harmony. What is weak in one is strong in another. They rely on one another. They are a family not unlike the one Hawke built in Kirkwall. I admire it." Fenris gave his head a mild shake. "More than that, I would wish myself part of it, were it possible."
"It may yet be. In time."
"It may."
Folding his hands loosely behind his back, Sebastian watched a platoon of archers move through their drills, one line shooting whilst the other reloaded their bows. "Until then? You say you've had time to consider my guard. Who might you name?"
"Alanna, if you wish another archer; she's young, but swift and clever. Caris, perhaps. He has taken over preparing the roster in Elias' absence, and has proven a deft hand at it, though it takes him a long time to do so. Or Dann. But no, I believe he is too impulsive, for all his skills." Fenris' brow furrowed as he thought, and Sebastian did not interrupt. Indeed, Sebastian felt only awe. He did not even know Caris or Alanna; that Fenris not only knew them, but was aware of their strengths and weaknesses… it put him to shame. Sebastian determined to put forth a better effort once the wedding and coronation were done with. At length, Fenris shook his head. "Hannis might be the best choice. A sword-and-shield warrior would grant a different perspective. He has served his whole life with this guard. If I understand things correctly, he nearly lost his life protecting your family. He is loyal. He would do an admirable job, I believe."
Shoulder to shoulder, they stood in companionable silence a long time while mock battles raged around them. Sebastian noticed how, when any of the guard passed, they saluted him and Fenris both. If they thought the presence of an elf—an elf warrior—strange, they showed none of it in demeanor or expression. He wondered, a little, whether more of the Starkhaven elves might find places within his guard, and whether they might feel more welcome—more equal—with Fenris there.
"I hope you stay, Fenris," he said softly. "I hope you both stay. For what it's worth."
Fenris' expression gave nothing away. "It is worth a great deal," he said at last. "And such an arrangement… I wish you to know it would not be unacceptable to me."
Then the elf extended his hand, offering to trade grips, and Sebastian swallowed a knot of emotion as he accepted. He felt certain, after all, it was the first physical contact Fenris had ever initiated with him. Sebastian found himself thinking about home, about family. About belonging. "And if you do go," Sebastian added, "know you are always welcome back again. Always. The both of you will always have a home in Starkhaven, as permanent or temporary as you wish."
Fenris inclined his head, but not before Sebastian saw the ghost of a grateful smile turn up the corners of his lips.
