Chapter Seventeen: As the Crow Flies

Previously: World's End

 

Court was packed today, as the King prepared to announce the end of the Blight. Nobles that had hid in their castles were now in Denerim, proudly flaunting their finest velvets. Margeria listened to their excited gossip, about their plans for summer and if the King had already betrothed his eldest heir.

 

Margeria and Orlando exchanged looks. Zevran, as always, was like a statue.

 

"By my right as King," Alistair intoned, smiling broadly at Riordan, "I hereby name Warden Riordan the Hero of Ferelden, he slayed an Archdemon, and ended the Blight."

 

The nobles erupted into fervent applause. Margeria and her companions clapped slowly, smirking. The Fereldans by and large still didn't like the new King, nor cared at all for Grey Wardens. The Antivans knew what their newfound enthusiasm really meant. The nobles could get back to their lives now. Borders would open, and trade could resume across Thedas. The widowed could remarry and the survivors could finally inherit.

 

Elissa stepped forward. "By my right as Arlessa of Amaranthine," she announced, "I hereby grant my lands and manor to the Grey Wardens, and name Warden Riordan as my steward in Amaranthine." 

 

There were a few grumbles, and the next round of applause was slightly muted. When Riordan stepped aside, Lyna Mahariel took his place before the King.

 

Alistair smiled brightly at her. "And how shall I reward the brave Dalish who fought by our side?"

 

"My clan and our city cousins request that Your Majesty grant us Ostagar," she said, her face and voice neutral.

 

Gasps rippled through the court. Alistair and Elissa glanced at each other, surprised.

 

"Ostagar?" the King asked, baffled. "Are you sure? The fortress is a ruin and the land is littered with corpses."

 

Lyna nodded briskly. "It will suit us just fine, Sire."

 

Alistair shrugged slightly. "If it pleases our elven friends, then it is my pleasure to grant you ownership of Ostagar."

 

The applause was a little louder than before. Nobles weren't upset about the elves leaving.

 

"It seems Ferelden is finally settling down," Orlando said lowly, in his native tongue. "The living have prevailed over the damned, and now life shall resume as before."

 

Margeria breathed deeply, closing her eyes briefly. "You two have your assignments," she rasped. "Now... our work begins."

 

Zevran bowed his head slightly. "Sì, mia signora."

 

***

Bann Loren was an aging man with a receding hairline and thin gray hair. He was on the chubby side, as he favored ale and rich foods. Despite his obvious deterioration, the old man was happy, practically skipping down the hall to the Antivan Ambassador's office.

 

He entered to find a handsome red-haired man at the Ambassador's desk, organizing some papers.

 

The old man blinked, caught off guard. "My apologies. I thought this was Lady Margeria's office."

 

"It is Lady Margeria's office," the young man replied in a thick rolling accent. "I am Orlando of Bastion, her assistant. I am tending the Ambassador's duties in her absence."

 

Loren frowned, confusion. "She left court?"

 

"She is helping her niece prepare for marriage," Orlando patiently explained. "As you may know, her niece is about to be your Queen."

 

Loren nodded, remembering. "Yes, yes. You say you speak for Margeria in her absence?"

 

Orlando was prim, aloof. "How may I help you?"

 

"I own a very large forest," Loren began. "And I understand some nobles in Antiva are in need of proper timber to build their country homes. Is this true?"

 

"You would like trade timber?"

 

"I would," the old man nodded. "My new young wife has a taste for Antivan finery. I am happy to trade for silk or linen."

 

"And your name, sir?"

 

"I am Bann Loren," came the proud reply.

 

Orlando's red head rose and fell. "Ah. My condolences on the loss of your last wife, and your son."

 

Loren's mood dimmed slightly. "You know about Landra and my son?"

 

"Of course," Orlando told him. "My sister also died that night at Castle Cousland."

 

"Ah," Loren replied. "Condolences."

 

"And the new wife?" Orlando inquired. "She is from where?"

 

"Gwaren, here in Ferelden," Loren said. "She's a distant cousin of Queen Anor -- er, Lady Anora."

 

"I see," Orlando said quietly. "Now, I can send inquiries to the noble houses of Antiva on your behalf. This office will charge a tax, of course."

 

Loren chuckled. "Of course."

 

"And where shall I send the replies?"

 

"I am staying with the new Arl of Denerim, for the time being," Loren boasted. "You can forward the correspondence there."

 

Orlando nodded stiffly in farewell. "Signore."

 

***

 

"Personally, I like the idea of a summer wedding," Alistair was saying, as he cut into his meat. Now that the Blight was ended, he ate with a proper appetite.

 

"We need to keep it short and simple," Elissa said firmly. She slowly cut her meat and took a small bite. Unlike her betrothed, she wasn't as hungry. In fact, the more they talked about getting married, the more her stomach tightened.

 

"We will not need to spend too much coin," Margeria assured them both. "I have brought a dress from Treviso; it is like the one your mother wore on her wedding day."

 

"And what did our father wear?" Fergus inquired jokingly. "Do you have anything of his?"

 

"No," Margeria replied. "How much longer before you make an honest woman of Goldanna?"

 

"Yes," Alistair mumbled. "How much longer?"

 

Elissa flashed him a chastising look. "She's been out of sight, spending all of her time with Isolde. What more do you want?"

 

Alistair was grouchy. "I want her married off and out of Denerim. How are her 'lessons' coming anyway?"

 

"I don't see her much, but when I do she still sounds common," Fergus admitted. He took a sip of wine. "She's also a bit shy, somewhat awkward even. She doesn't know I want to court her yet, and I think I need to move slowly."

 

Margeria's brow furrowed. "Isn't she already an old maid? A mother of five? If you wait too long, she may not be able to bear more children."

 

Elissa was appalled. She stopped cutting her food long enough to stare. "Goldanna is not a broodmare, Zia. Her mother and newborn brother vanished from her life, and Arl Eamon lied about them."

 

The King was stubborn. "With good reason."

 

Elissa's appalled look gave way to shock. "Am I really the only one here who's sympathetic to this woman? She's had a hard life."

 

Alistair scoffed, his mouth full. "We've all had hard lives."

 

"Her husband abandoned her with five small children," Elissa pressed. "Do you know how much a laundress makes? Barely enough to feed, house, and clothe five children." She went back to cutting her food.

 

Margeria swallowed, then nodded. "A hard life breeds a hard woman. Perhaps, this is a good thing."

Arl Eamon entered the royal dining room suddenly, a parchment tightly clasped in hand. He glanced around the room, noting the family was at dinner.

 

"Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty," the old man said.

 

Alistair shook his head. "You're never intruding, my lord. You know that."

 

"Bann Loren is dead," Eamon announced somberly. "He died in his sleep earlier this afternoon."

 

Everyone stopped eating, shifting in their chairs to get a better look at him.

 

"Bann Loren?" the King asked, drawing a blank.

 

Fergus and Elissa looked at each other.

 

"He was our father's bannerman," Fergus said grimly. "His wife and son perished in the attack on our castle."

 

"As he died without a living heir, his lands and will be castle be contested. His new wife Lynette is young, childless...and kin to Anora."

 

Fergus and Elissa were visibly shocked. "Loren...," Elissa said, frowning, "...remarried a kinswoman of Loghain's?

 

Fergus was perplexed. "Was he not aware of Loghain's part in his family's death?"

 

"Yes," Eamon replied, nodding. "He was also known for his rather 'fluid' allegiances. With your father gone, and the King dead, he must've seen which the wind was blowing and switched sides."

 

"Well, no," Elissa said firmly, setting down her knife and fork. "His property cannot pass to his new bride. I will not hand resources back to that family."

 

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "We're punishing cousins now?"

 

Fergus was dismayed. "Alistair," he began calmly, "how do you think Loren and Lynette got married? Who do you think introduced them in the first place? I can already tell you that no beautiful young woman would marry that man by choice."

 

"Did she kill him?" Margeria asked casually.

 

"Unlikely," Eamon shook his head. "They were married late last year and produced no children. He never got around to writing her into his will. It would be impractical to kill the man without legal claim to his holdings."

 

The Antivan shrugged. "Maybe the girl is amateur."

 

Elissa was not amused. "The girl can go back to her parents," she scowled. "The crown will  retain Loren's lands until further notice."

Alistair tilted his head slightly. "Isn't that the crown's decision?"

 

"Why?" Elissa asked bluntly. "Where you going to suggest something else?"

 

Alistair paused, mulling it over as he chewed. "Eamon, pay the girl a widow's severance from Loren's estate and then send her home." He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Though I doubt she's plotting something nefarious, I don't like the idea of her in the same city as Anora."

 

Eamon bowed his head. "Sire."

 

After the Arl left, Alistair turned back to his family.  "Can we move on to dessert now?"