Thanks to analect, fangirl42, and kurgs - without you guys, this story would not be what I want it to be.
9:24 Dragon, Summer
She had plenty of time to think about it, and she came to the conclusion that she should have been smarter. To think that she was somehow immune to the way things were simply because of her name or the name of those in her company.
The name Mayweather was well respected in Starkhaven… or it had been. Many looked down upon her now, and it took a year of curtsying and apologizing and praying in the Chantry before the nobles of Granite Circle stopped whispering behind her back, spreading rumors about her wild night of debauchery with Sebastian and Corbinian. To hear them tell it, she had danced in the Fountain of Andraste stark naked! Her mother managed to spin the tales around to a night of harmless fun mired by the effects of youth and alcohol. Samantha was simply an innocent girl who was clearly enamored with royalty – wild and entitled as those boys are.
In truth, the Vael family had always taken their occupation quite seriously. Samantha's mother might have been content to preside over elaborate competitions and pageants like some royal families in the Free Marches, but the Prince of Starkhaven had taken a far more active role in governing, forming a strong partnership with the Grand Cleric and the Chantry – especially after that whole business with Adain.
For some reason, Samantha always thought that if she were with the Vaels, she would be immune to trouble. They were royalty. It seemed absurd that they would be made a spectacle; even more ridiculous that they should have been sent away. The very idea of it was foreign. Sebastian was the third son, and it was assumed that he would lead the archery regiments. He was an archer of considerable skill; he could hit the eye-slit of a helmet from the tops of the ramparts of the royal palace of Starkhaven, and that was saying something. One night, he had bragged that his grandfather was going to gift him a longbow that had been in the family for generations. As soon as I get good enough, he had said. Ruxton had made terrible fun of him for finally taking something seriously, but Sebastian ignored him. Or maybe he just didn't see that he was being mocked. It was hard to tell. When Sebastian got his eyes on something, it was hard to get him to look away.
His cousin Corbinian would, of course, lead the Royal Army. Corbinian was quite skilled with the sword. Samantha smiled every time she remembered watching him train in the courtyard with his other cousins and brother. Sometimes Ruxton would join in but, truthfully, the Harimanns' son just wanted to lounge and be merry and read books. He said as much on a regular basis. But aside from the straining and the sweating, he turned into a plank of wood around the girls who would watch. Much too shy, Ruxton had so little experience with the opposite sex, many considered him a prude.
Despite the suddenness of their leaving, the pair was never far from her thoughts. When Flora and Ruxton came to visit, they were always talking about Sebastian and Corbinian, but there was never a word of where they were, what they were doing or if they ever visited Starkhaven. She had casually asked her mother about it only to receive vagaries and hearsay.
This is why it was a great surprise to the entirety of Granite Circle for Corbinian to simply reappear just over a year later.
He arrived with the entire royal family to Chantry service at midsummer. There was no welcome-back, no announcement, no letters. Just re-emergence and Samantha had a hard time removing her eyes from him. If she had ever suspected that she felt nothing for him at any point in her life, simply seeing him was enough to correct her and when she caught him smirking at her from across the pews it was all she could not to squeal like a little girl.
Grand Cleric Francesca was giving a sermon on the dangers of magic, likely because of the rumors surrounding the Mayweather family's misfortune, or so everyone called it. It was still the talk of Granite Circle, and Samantha was rather annoyed that her father seemed to hope the rest of the neighborhood could erase Innley from their minds as simply as he did.
She began stoically, her voice bouncing from the high ceiling to the stained-glass windows. "A mage who does not receive the teachings of the Circle and who does not have the words of Andraste in her heart is an apostate, and a danger to us all. Without the guidance of the holy Chantry, a mage may foolishly dabble in the darker arts—blood magic, or demon summoning, thus becoming maleficarum. We all remember what happened with Adain."
Corbinian lifted his finger to his brow then, pretending to scratch, but he shot Samantha another look and she could feel her chest heaving. It was everything she could do to remain still, her hands in her lap.
"And a mage's mind will ever be a doorway to spirits of the Fade; without proper instruction, this doorway remains open and unsecured. If a demon should come through this doorway and possess a mage, an abomination is created. Abominations know only madness. They cannot be reasoned with and will slaughter man, woman and child without thought. Whole cities have fallen to these creatures. Thousands have died at their hands. The Chantry and her templars have a duty to ensure that this does not happen."
He mouthed something to her and she squinted at him, trying to convey that she didn't catch it, and so with a cursory glance to his mother who was seated beside him, he then pointed to his own chest and mouthed it again: What color?
She could feel her cheeks growing hot, and she narrowed her eyes at him – what a scoundrel!
"If I knew a better way to deal with magic, I would seize upon it immediately. But we cannot let the mages guard themselves. We only need to look at the Tevinter Imperium and their lack of restraint. Without Chantry oversight the magisters abuse their power. Those without magic are trampled underfoot and forced to serve."
Corbinian looked back to her again and winked. Samantha shot him a fierce look; he was being so naughty! And in church! If only she could feel offended, but truthfully, every muscle in her face wanted to smile. Her father frowned at her briefly and she refocused on the Grand Cleric.
"Imagine your children growing up in such a world. If a mage asked it of you, you would have to give him your daughter, not knowing what his plans for her might be. You could not resist him, and neither could she. Without our templars and without the Circle, the common man would have no defense against magic. Many understand that we do what we do for their own good. Now, let us pray together."
The congregation stood up, and Samantha looked over to Corbinian amongst the safety of the standing crowd. He was watching her steadily, with a curious little smile playing on his lips, before he closed those Vael-family blue eyes, turned his head, and began to pray.
After the prayers and the singing and the moment of silence for the fallen faithful all over the Free Marches, the high nobility of Starkhaven were released and it was during this time that Samantha was always allowed to socialize with her friends. She didn't wait for her father or mother to give her permission; she shot through the aisles. Corbinian was hugging Flora and Ruxton and several others who had run to welcome him back, but when he saw Samantha heading over, he left them and came to meet her halfway. His smile positively killed her.
He took her hands; his were warm and rough, and Samantha wondered just what he had done in the last year to make them that way, but when he spoke, she forgot about them, "Well, hello there."
She curtsied. "You look well."
"I've had some time to recover, yes. And I've been ordered to apologize for my truly atrocious behavior on that night, though it was amusing to you, I am sure. My apology to Lord Garrity was perhaps the most eloquent letter I've ever written, if I do say so myself."
"Well done, messere," she said, smiling sweetly as her parents were watching.
"I heard you injured your ankle," he spoke mischievously and never looked away. "Admittedly, I have little memory of it."
"It's fine," she liked that he remembered. "All healed. I'll be able to dance like a harlot at my name day party."
"Excellent." He held out his arm for her to take. "Do wear those lace underthings you keep hidden in your vanity. I promised the Kendalls a good show."
"I'll consider it. But only because Lord Kendall is such a romantic."
Corbinian stifled a laugh, mostly because Lord Kendall was ninety years old and was always yelling what to the young people with an earhorn in his ear.
The sunshine greeted them as they began their stroll about town. It was something that the nobles of Starkhaven had been doing for centuries. After service, they would all take a nice leisurely walk through town and greet each other politely before taking brunch. Samantha had loved these walks with Corbinian on one arm and Sebastian on the other, but that was all going to change now. It would be just Corbinian today, now and forever more.
"So when are we going to visit Innley?" He led her out of the chantry, and it was like the year that passed had been erased. Like no time had passed at all.
"They won't let me."
"Of course. But you know that I can."
Of course he could, and likely would. She squinted at him in the late morning sun; its warm light danced on the top of his auburn hair that all the Vaels had, and she searched her mind for a memory where there was ever a Vael more beautiful. She couldn't find one. "Where have you been?"
"Oh, here and there." He winked, which was slightly infuriating.
"Beenie!"
He chuckled. "Nevarra City."
"Whatever for?"
"My mother's sister's family live there."
Samantha raised an eyebrow. "How tenuous."
"Well, she's my mother's last surviving family. And her family is more… strict. I was given an education of sorts."
"Oh?" she asked playfully. "Did they cure you?"
"Let's just say that I understand what I did. And I know why I was sent away. And also why I was allowed to return." He glanced at her. "Sebastian wasn't as fortunate."
"I heard about that." She looked down the granite path. "Did you see him before he left?"
"Briefly. He's in Kirkwall now. I received a letter from him a few months ago."
That stung, too; apparently he could write to Corbinian, but couldn't craft a letter to her? One of his oldest friends? And after what had happened? Somehow that was more insulting than what he had done to her.
"Said Kirkwall was a different town. Simpler. And he hoped his stay there would be short. But his parents aren't like mine, and I don't think he gets it."
"What? That his parents gave him away? That he's stuck there, likely forever? To live a pious and chaste life in service to the Maker?"
"Yes, yes, and yes. I think you just about covered it." Corbinian placed his hand over hers as she sighed. "I think they were planning it for a while. Probably had the arrangement all set up weeks before."
"But how could they just… get rid of him like that?" Samantha protested, her mind filling with thoughts of Innley.
"Well, he is a rather wild boy."
She snickered. "Right. A lone wolf, crazed in a sea of sheep!"
"I assume you mean we are the sheep?" He scratched his chin. "I always figured myself for a fox. Something small and fluffy and sly—" She elbowed him then, smiling, but he just shook his head. "For some reason, the people of this town think that he and I got into a duel." They paused at the fountain of Andraste and he looked down at her. "Over you."
"Is that what they say?" she teased. She had heard this rumor quite often over the last year.
He leaned down to murmur in her ear, the whole town watching. "Probably more like whispers. Under handkerchiefs and soft lighting."
"Do be careful, Beenie," she muttered, as his breath tickled her neck. "You will give me the vapors!"
"An impossibility," he announced, pulling away. "I know how Lord Kendall holds your heart."
She laughed loudly then and all the nobles paused to watch the two teenagers at the fountain of Andraste where, a year ago, they had defiled it with their wretched vice and sin.
"He had a nasty cut on his lip." Corbinian stared into her with his impossibly blue eyes.
"Maybe he fell." She offered up her own amber eyes in response.
"On his lip?" he smirked. "An impressive maneuver, to be sure. I'll be sure to get him to teach me when I visit."
She just shrugged with a sly little smile.
"Coy little minx." He laughed. "You realize that I do remember some things…"
"Oh? And what do you remember?"
"I'm serious, Sammie."
"You're never serious, Beenie. And I'm fine! I mean, look at me!"
"I've been looking at you." He smiled again, and the whiteness of his teeth contrasted with the brown of his skin and she decided then and there under the Maker's sun that he was definitely more beautiful than Sebastian. He was staring at her in a very personal way in front of a crowd of nobles who had gathered and were pretending not to be eavesdropping. When he noticed them all as well, he lifted his arm to her again as they continue to walk.
"Your name day party is coming up," he said casually. "You're going to save me a dance?"
"Maybe after Lord Kendall."
"Ah, so you are starting with the most attractive man and working your way down? A wise course."
"A name day tradition in my family."
"Yes, I remember your mother dancing with Lord Robaire last year."
She laughed again; Lord Robaire was heir to the Fortney estate, the richest in Starkhaven behind Vael's, but she was laughing because Lord Robaire was about eight years old.
When they reached the gates of her estate he turned to her and offered a deep bow. She curtsied in return and held out her hand regally and Corbinian chuckled when presented with it but lifted his fingers into her palm, leaning down to kiss the back. It had been so long since he had done that, it felt at once familiar and new. His hand were bigger than hers and the side of his fingers were more rough than she remembered, yet the way he kissed her hand was entirely different than all those other times. It was intimate, as if he was kissing more than her hand.
When he stood back up, he released her hand and took a step closer, his voice quiet, "If I weren't a newly reformed gentleman, I would kiss you somewhere else." He slipped his hands lightly into his pockets.
"Is that so?" With her hands clasped behind her back she looked up at him innocently, but it was all a great big lie. "On this most holy day? Right after church service?"
"With the Maker's name on my lips."
"I never pegged you for a romantic."
"I apprenticed with Lord Kendall."
She tried to hide her smile. "Where would you kiss me?"
"I would kiss you on your neck right behind your ear." He spoke so promptly, without thinking about it, like he had it planned, and as his eyes burned into her, lighting a trail of flame from that place on her neck down to her navel, Corbinian lifted his right hand from his pocket. "Then I would place this hand on your back, right where your shoulder meets your spine, and slide upwards, until I had your hair in my hands."
He had never spoken to her this way before and her body reacted with verve, lighting up with waves of sensation and she could imagine a thousand things that he could do to her in that moment that she would allow. But only him.
He kept his focus on her and she didn't blink when he asked, "What would you do then?"
She wanted him to keep going, but she couldn't say that, not with this many people on the streets, so instead she gave him a sly smile, "I'd… probably slap you."
"As long as you don't bite me." He smirked before he turned lazily, strolling down the street to the palace, the heat carried away on the breeze.