The Princess Origin – Part 2
"So, being sent to bed early are we?" Narascha teased.
Trian had finally left them. Of course, not without a few choice words. Narascha had no idea where he got such a big head from. Father and Harrowmont were much calmer than him.
Bhelen groaned. "All day I've had to put up with that. He can really grate on the nerves."
"You are doing better than myself," Narascha reassured. "Hopefully we'll be lucky and he shall mellow out when he is King."
"I highly doubt that."
"Have faith, little brother," Narascha chuckled. "Besides, look on the bright side. Being sent to bed early means you get to spend some time with your sweet 'ember rose'."
Gorim snorted.
Bhelen choked. "Narascha!"
"I saw her today. She's as pretty as you described." Narascha grinned.
"She is lovely," Bhelen said, but he grew more serious.
Narascha tilted her head. Bhelen was a good actor, but despite what he thought, he had some tells. That was the problem. She had pretty much helped raise him after their mother died giving birth to him. Their father hadn't had the time, and Trian hadn't been interested. At that point he had been too paranoid about little siblings and their ability to 'steal his throne'. That had left her to make him feel welcome in their home and teach him everything their mother had taught her in their short time together. She had introduced him into the political world, just as Trian introduced her before he loathed her.
"I just wish Trian wasn't risking his own family to become King," Bhelen said desperately, his voice hushed into a whisper.
Narascha made sure to look baffled. "What is it, Bhelen?"
"I never thought his proclaimed honour would allow him to act on his jealousy. Narascha, Trian is going to try kill you," Bhelen said firmly.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I overheard him giving orders to his guards. I couldn't believe it at first, but it makes sense. He believes you're a threat to the throne after all," Bhelen murmured.
"Trian keeps conveniently forgetting that I just want to fight back the darkspawn. I'm a fighter not a politician."
"I hear you're not bad considering how you dealt with Lord Dace earlier." Bhelen smiled. "The servants were gossiping about it."
"That was because I heard the rumours about his failed expedition."
"Trian won't see it that way. He will believe that you're trying to show that you're a better candidate. You're much more personable too. Trian fears that father will soon replace him with you as his heir, or that the Assembly will betray him as soon as father passes." Bhelen winced. "You know his pride will never allow him to step aside."
"The problem is if I become Queen I'd have to take on a husband and finally become the useful breeding stock Trian sees me as." Narascha smirked, but she knew it didn't look amused, it felt too forced.
Bhelen actually looked genuinely upset about that. "That comment was cruel."
"He's always cruel," Narascha sighed but decided to test the waters a little. "You'd make a better King, little brother."
Bhelen blinked, astonished, but laughed it off. "Oh sister, I'm honoured you think so, but me? The King? That's an amusing idea."
"Why not?" Narascha pressed on, earning a startled look from Gorim. "Trian we both know won't be a good King and I only wish to help protect our people from the darkspawn, but you aren't like either of us. You're clever and you seem to understand people."
"I'd think more about yourself right now, Nara." Bhelen held her shoulders, looking more desperate. "I don't want to lose you. You've always been there for me."
"If Trian attacks me I'll fight back, Bhelen," Narascha sighed heavily.
Bhelen smiled in relief, eyes bright.
"Thank goodness. Please, stay safe, sister. I'll be acting as father's second tomorrow so come to me if you need any help." Bhelen planted a kiss on her cheek, something he rarely did, before he left.
Narascha watched his back at he left, the door closing behind him. Her soft gaze darkened and she eyed Gorim who looked confused. "My Lady?"
"So my dear baby brother is plotting away." Narascha snorted softly. "Alright. I'll play. I just hope it doesn't get me killed."
"You really believe Bhelen is plotting against you?" Gorim frowned. "Truly?"
"Everyone seems to think he's hopeless at politics but he's not," Narascha said. "And I'm way too soft on him, otherwise I'd turn this around on him."
.::.
Narascha leaned back heavily against the wall of her cell, thankful the cuffs were gone and that she wasn't chained in place. Trian was dead. She hadn't ever wished for that, despite their tense relationship. Bhelen had hired mercenaries to kill Trian. Trian had an easier death. His body was carried back to Orzammar. Narascha's would be abandoned to the Deep Roads, her name carved out of history.
She hadn't thought that Bhelen would be this cruel to her.
At least Bhelen knew how to play Orzammar's political game. Framing her for Trian's murder and getting both his older siblings out the way was clever, annoying, but clever. She would have happily fought by his side, and the fact he didn't try keep her alive left her aching.
"You have a visitor!" a guard barked out, but the moment she glared at him the harsh tone disappeared.
"Thank you, guardsman," Narascha said, watching Bhelen approach her cell. "Hello, Bhelen."
"Hello, Narascha."
"Why are you here?"
Bhelen frowned. "I wanted to see you, and deliver to you an offer."
"And what is that?"
"You may rejoin society, but not as a warrior," Bhelen said, voice cold. "You rejoin us as a wife to a nobleman, and you bear him his heirs."
Her stomach dropped. Narascha thought about it for a moment, tried to imagine herself as a wife. Then she remembered the blood and screaming and her father sobbing.
"I cannot." She shivered.
Bhelen's eyes hardened. "This is the best way to save your own life, Narascha."
Narascha laughed bitterly. "So you didn't intend to let me die in the Deep Roads?"
"No. You're of age, you come from a strong bloodline, and should be able to bear children-"
"I saw mother give birth to you," Narascha cut in.
Bhelen froze.
"I saw her bleed out," Narascha whispered hoarsely.
That memory haunted her, even after all these years. Narascha had been curious about her little sibling, and had sneaked a peak. There had been so much blood, despite the birthing being successful. Her mother had been writhing in pain and whimpering. Her father yelled at the healers, frantic as her mother slowly stopped squirming and went still, tears in her eyes. Bhelen had been crying hysterically, as if the baby had known their mother was gone.
Narascha couldn't get rid of that memory.
"I'm terrified to go to the birthing bed, Bhelen. I'd rather face the darkspawn," Narascha said firmly. "There was so much screaming, and blood, and you were crying so much. I haven't been able to forget it."
"I... I understand..." Bhelen said shakily, then faltered. "How..."
"How?"
"Why did you care for me so much? Even after seeing the way I killed our mother?"
Narascha softened. "You didn't kill her."
Bhelen huffed. "Don't lie."
"I'm not. She was so happy when she discovered she was pregnant with you," Narascha said. "And I was happy you arrived, safe and healthy. But now it's all such a mess. You saw how terrible a King Trian would have become, so you set me up to be his murderer. I suspected you of course, because of your tells-"
"Tells?" Bhelen frowned, his voice unwavering once more, face composed.
"You get a look in your eyes sometimes, but I doubt anyone else will notice it. Father wasn't around much when you were a child due to his duties and by the time you were born Trian was dabbling in political intrigue. I might be the only one who would notice it." Narascha shrugged.
"I have a lot of things planned, sister. This was not personal, I swear it, Narascha," Bhelen swore, eyes hard with determination. "This is the best for Orzammar."
"Alright," Narascha said. "What will you do? Follow the old ways? Stick to Father's rules?"
"No," Bhelen snarled, his nose actually wrinkled. "They are out of date. We have so much potential, but we waste on on 'tradition'. It's such a waste."
Narascha fiddled with her ring, the ring Gorim gifted her when they were younger as a sign of friendship. She had given him one as well. Bhelen tilted his head at her, noticing the shifting.
"You're playing with your ring. What are you thinking about?" he asked, crossing his arms.
She nearly laughed. Guess that was her 'tell' then.
"Do you think it is a waste for the casteless not to fight with us against the darkspawn?" she asked.
Bhelen blinked, clearly taken aback. "You've been thinking as well?"
"I know it is meant to be 'unspeakable', but ever since that casteless won the Proving it's one of the main things on my mind. I rarely got to see the casteless because of Father's protectiveness. But if many of them can fight like that, can defeat most of our Proving fighters who are all highly trained, then perhaps we have been doing something wrong all this time."
Bhelen nodded. "I have a lot of changes to make, sister, and I intend to do them. I am sorry that I've had to sacrifice you like this."
"Yeah, I would have preferred to have stood at your side as your Commander after all," Narascha snorted. "But such as it is I guess."
"I had hoped that you would say 'yes' to my offer, but I understand why you will not," Bhelen said, as he reached into his pocket. "So I shall gift you something instead."
Bhelen pulled out a necklace, holding it out to her. Narascha took it, frowning at the small vial curiously.
"It's poison," Bhelen said. "If being out in the Deep Roads alone proves too much then I want you to drink it."
"Poison myself? Seriously? Honestly I'd prefer my axe." Narascha grimaced. "Bloody Stone you're actually sending me out alone into the Deep Roads."
"To do what you do best. Fight back against the darkspawn," Bhelen mused. "But I will get you your axe, Narascha."
"You can have this back then." Narascha held out the necklace but he shook his head.
"Keep it. Just in case," Bhelen sighed. "It won't hurt you. It will just be like falling asleep. I swear."
Narascha groaned, but slipped the necklace on. "Fine, Bhelen. I swear though if it turns out this poison is something that makes me die a slow, painful death I'll find a way to haunt you."
Bhelen's gaze darkened. "I already swore to you it wouldn't."
"I know. I can see it in your eyes," Narascha replied, looking down at the vial.
He nodded. "Then this is goodbye, Narascha. I'll miss you."
"Goodbye, brother," Narascha said as he retreated back out of the prison, his eyes much harder than she had ever seen them before.
Orzammar was in for quite the change it seemed. Too bad she would never get to see it.
.::.
"Wait," Lawrien called out, startling them all.
"Lawrien? What's wrong?" Ciara asked as Duncan finished off the last Darkspawn that had attacked them.
Lawrien frowned, confused. "Why is Nara here?"
Ciara startled, hearing the clunky footsteps approaching. She drew one of her throwing daggers, but Lawrien stopped her, brow furrowed. A strangely armoured Genlock or dwarf (but dwarves weren't normally down here by themselves) stepped out of the tunnel.
"I'm glad I managed to catch up to you." Princess Aeducan removed her helmet, revealing sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
Torph choked.
"My Lady!" Duncan rushed over to her side, eyes wide with horror. "Where are your men? And why are you out here all alone?"
"I have been cast out and made to walk the Deep Roads," the Princess said.
The favourite Aeducan child had been cast out. Ciara grimaced at the thought. A fierce warrior and Commander, and they threw her out. The idiots. They wasted potential on politics.
Duncan shook his head. "So Orzammar's politics have struck again."
"I thought you were the fucking favourite kid," Torph cursed. "What happened?"
"You don't need to answer that," Duncan reassured. "Her past is none of our concern."
"My brother Bhelen had me framed for murdering our elder brother Trian. To avoid a family scandal it seems Father has decided to leave me to my fate," Narascha sighed wearily, before staring up at Lawrien. "Lawrien offered me a position within the Grey Wardens earlier-"
"Actually, I told you to join us."
"Lawrien, stop trying to order people to 'join us'," Duncan chided, shaking his head before frowning at Narascha. "My Lady, your skills are amazing, but this is a dangerous life we lead. I will be more than happy to escort you out of the Deep Roads-"
"I still wish to fight for Orzammar," Narascha said firmly. "I don't mind joining the Grey Wardens or the Legion of the Dead. Just as long as I can still help my people."
"Even when they've thrown you out?" Torph startled.
"Yes." Narascha nodded. "No matter what, Orzammar is my home. I will fight for it."
"Alright then, Lady Aeducan," Duncan said, smiling warmly. "I understand. I would like to formally welcome you to the Grey Wardens of Ferelden."
"Please, just call me Narascha." The blonde smiled.
"Jeez, first you take in a casteless, and now a Princess," Torph snorted. "You guys are insane."
Ciara shrugged, but Narascha only grinned playfully. "Don't worry, salroka. There's more than enough space for the both of us here. Or are you worried I'm about to take your place as the Warden's favourite dwarf?"
Torph cackled. "I'd be more worried about you, Princess. There's nobody to wash your feet or feed you grapes anymore."
"Oh the tragedy!" Narascha mockingly gasped.
Ciara sighed as the pair continued on. The Wardens pressed on, Lawrien laughing heartily. Duncan began to smile, a soft, fond look.
"Well," Ciara mused. "This is certainly going to be a lively trip."
Duncan chuckled, patting her shoulder. "There's no need for things to be serious all of the time."
"You say that as we head for war against a Blight," Ciara said, raising a brow.
"And that's when we will need to treasure these moments the most."
"Honestly, I'm more curious about the axe Narascha still carries," Ciara admitted. "She was allowed to keep it even when she was deemed a traitor."
"Perhaps Prince Bhelen held a soft spot for her," Duncan murmured.
"I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse..." Ciara trailed off, frowning down at her feet.