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peopleofthedas2010-12-17 10:30 pm
Trouble & Strife: Chapter Thirty Seven
Much love to
bellaknoti the Comma Fairy Extraordinaire, who's reliable, and lovely, and tidies up my chapters. Link to the beginning, for anyone joining us for the first time: www.fanfiction.net/s/6144534/1/Trouble_S
Title: Trouble & Strife: Chapter Thirty Seven
Characters: today we have Alistair, Anders, Leliana, Zevran, Teagan and Cullen
Rating: T
In this chapter: The arrival of Knight Commander Cullen to see the King provides some insight into the situation at the Circle, but nowhere near enough to be satisfactory.
-oOo-
Anders sauntered through Redcliffe village enjoying, as always, the freedom to do so unmolested. The fact that the local Chantry was right there, with Templars outside it, merely sweetened the deal. His errand made it more delicious still, albeit a shade trickier. Should anyone take a very close look at him, they would find that his casual manner - that of a man just out for a gentle breath of air – contrasted with the sharp gaze that flickered to every bush and tree. Occasionally he changed direction, in a meandering kind of way, as though completely on impulse. If the hypothetical onlooker was almost inhumanly observant then they may notice that near each turn he took was a bush or tree that had a rag snagged in its branches, or a splash of paint, or some other apparently random distinguishing feature.
His ambling eventually led him to a group of houses, built onto the dock in Redcliffe’s signature manner. The strange triple clomp of two feet and a staff on the wooden decking caused the balding man crouched down and carefully painting his house-front to look up frowning. The sight of a man in the robes of a mage, carrying a staff that crawled with power, brought a deep scowl to his face.
“Nice day.” Anders’ mild greeting brought no diminution of the scowl.
“I daresay.” He carefully put down his brush and straightened, rubbing his back. “What would you be doin’ in Redcliffe, master mage, if’n I might ask?”
“Oh, you know, taking the air. The castle’s nice enough, but gets a bit stuffy. I like to remind myself that I’m free to breathe.”
“Up at the castle, eh?” The scowl vanished, replaced with a respectful servility that was, in its way, no less repellent. “Would you be in service to the King then, mebbe?”
“Actually I’m a Warden, but yes, I’m travelling with the King at the moment.” Anders pulled out a large handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. Although the leaves on the trees were just beginning to turn, the weather was still very warm. “Could I trouble you for a cup of water? It’s a long trek back up to the castle.”
“A Warden? Certainly, certainly.” The front door was thrown open with some ceremony. If the man had still owned a forelock, it would undoubtedly have been tugged. “Come in, Ser Warden, come in. Mind the paint, it’s still wet.”
With the door shut behind them, the servile manners and rough accent fell away. “You’re Anders?” At an affirmative nod, the man let out a puff of relieved breath. “Holy Maker, man, you scared me; walking along in full regalia like that. I thought you’d run mad. I’m Thaddeus, good to meet you.”
Anders laughed and held out his hand, which was firmly shaken. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I was expecting Hengen, he would have known who I am. Is he-?”
A look of sorrow crossed Thaddeus’ face. “Taken. Halfway to Denerim and the Grand Cleric’s fires by now, I imagine. He was named.”
Anders comprehensively damned the Grand Cleric, the Chantry and all their works to the Black City. By the time he’d run out of breath, Thaddeus had shown him into a shabby living-room. He accepted a drink of something rather stronger than water and watched while Thaddeus poured into small ceramic pots. “Don’t worry Thaddeus, we’ll stop it. King Alistair won’t stand for any more mage-burnings. He’ll send more troops this time; put the Templars and the mob down.”
Thaddeus handed Anders a pot of comfort and took his own seat. “It’s true then, you have the King’s ear? When word came from the South Reach cell, I didn’t know whether to believe it.”
“I do, and I can give you my absolute assurance that Alistair is doing all he can to solve this mess.” Anders took a fortifying, but eye-watering sip and gasped.
“Good stuff, isn’t it? It sets off as cider, but a little fire and ice concentrates it, makes it more potent.” Thaddeus took a sip himself and frowned. “This King Alistair though, he’s the King. Surely he can stop them anytime he likes.”
“Yep, he could send his own troops against them tomorrow. Put the Grand Cleric in chains and throw her in Fort Drakon. But what then?” Anders shrugged. “Yes, he can do all of that, but without the nobles supporting his actions, he won’t have an army to protect us when the Divine sends an Exalted March against Ferelden.”
“Ah.” Thaddeus nodded philosophically and took another sip. “Politics.”
“But he won’t stand for any more torture, mutilation or public execution. He’s already told the Divine that much, at least.”
Anders’ reassurance seemed to have a positive effect. “Well, that’s something anyhow, and more than we hoped for. See, the Collective members around here, they’re nervous in case Hengen gives up their names. And, as you know, jittery mages is never good.”
“Uh huh. It leads to whopping great holes in the ground; or worse, whopping great holes in the Fade.” Anders gingerly took another sip. “So, what’s the latest news?”
“Nothing good.” Thaddeus frowned into his cup. “I hear they had to move the children out of Denerim. Chantry got a sniff of where they were set up and they had to do a runner. Nowhere’s safe anymore.”
“Damn. Do you know where they’ve gone?”
“Holed up somewhere, I reckon, but I don’t know for sure.”
Anders rubbed a thoughtful thumb on the smooth wood of the staff next to him. There was an obvious answer to their problem, but it could get him strung up from the battlements of the Vigil by his bollocks. Oh, well. “Look, if you have a chance to get a message to them, tell them to take the children to Vigil’s Keep. Warden Commander Leonie won’t let anything happen to a bunch of kiddies.”
“I’ll do that, Warden. Thanks.”
-oOo-
"Maker, Teagan, it was only dancing. I can’t say I was totally comfortable with it, but it’s not that bad.”
The Arl crossed his legs and spread his hands helplessly. “I agree with you, Alistair, but it has upset some of the Banns. It’s compounded the worries that you are being led into Orlesian ways.”
Alistair stared at him, horrified. “What, they think that I’m… with a…” He swallowed and tried again. “I’m married, Teagan, and very happily so.”
Teagan tried to smother a grin and failed miserably. “I don’t doubt it and neither do they. No, merely that you are permitting traditional Ferelden manners and attitudes to be compromised. Although to be truthful, I think they were less worried about Prince Philippe dancing with a man, and more that he was dancing with an elf.”
Alistair’s mouth set in a stubborn line. “Well, that they can just-“
“Excuse me, Your Grace, Your Majesty.” Teagan’s Chamberlain, Edgar, bowed as he entered the room. “I apologise for intruding upon you, but Knight Commander Cullen is here, requesting an audience with the King.”
-oOo-
Where the sodding hell is Anders when I need him?
Alistair left Cullen kicking his heels in an antechamber while a runner went down to town to find his Court Mage. When the runner returned to say that no-one in the village had seen Anders for the last hour, he was left with little choice but to interview the Knight Commander without him.
“Maker’s Blessings on you, Your Majesty.” Knight Commander Cullen bowed deferentially in the usual Templar fashion.
“Good morning, Knight Commander.” Alistair had commandeered Teagan’s audience chamber and was seated in the Arl’s throne, flanked by Teagan and Leliana. “I confess I was hoping to receive the First Enchanter.” Or indeed any other of the Senior Mages, if Irving is ill, he added silently. The gaping hole at the Knight Commander’s side was both disturbing and unusual.
“The First Enchanter is unfit to undertake such a duty at this time, Sire. If your wish is to receive a report on the security of the Circle, I trust I shall be able to set your mind at rest.”
“A report on the security of the Circle and the welfare of the mages will be most welcome; please do continue.” He felt sure Cullen caught the slight stress on the additional part of the report he was requesting.
“The Circle is in good shape, sire. My Templars remain vigilant and watchful. The mages understand the dangers that their existence represents and exercise extreme caution at all times. I have implemented activity rotas which assist them in reducing the threat, and I am informed that they are much more relaxed and happy as a result.”
“So, you’ve finally got them running on little wheels like the caged pets they are.”
The cheerful voice from the door held a definite challenge, but Alistair breathed a sigh of relief despite the increase in hostility. “Anders, please, come up here beside me. You know the Knight Commander, I’m sure.”
“Cullen.” Anders nodded dismissively as he passed, stepping up to join the group on the dais. “Where’s Irving?”
The Knight Commander’s mouth tightened. “As I have already explained, the First Enchanter is unfit for the duty of reporting on the Circle’s welfare.”
“Oh, is he ill? Which Senior Enchanter is covering for him? And why isn’t he or she here?” Anders had one arm leant on the back of Alistair’s throne in a highly inappropriate manner for a formal meeting, but the King allowed both this, and his rapid-fire questions, to stand. He was just as interested in the results, and knew perfectly well why Anders was making a display of his standing.
It was obvious that Anders’ manner and mere presence was acting as an irritant to the Knight Commander, but he answered courteously. “The First Enchanter is undertaking what duties he can, and has been satisfied to permit me to pick up those he cannot deal with. There are mages assisting me in this.”
“If there are mages assisting you, why aren’t they here?” Anders was bristling with suspicion, Alistair could feel it, but his posture remained nonchalant.
“I saw no need for them to attend.” Cullen addressed his answer to the group at large, but shot Anders a hostile glance. “I see no advantage to taking mages outside the protection of the Circle.”
After a moment, Alistair shifted slightly in his seat and took the situation back into his control. As he asked his question, he watched the Knight Commander closely. “If, as you say, the mages are ‘relaxed and happy’, then can you explain to me why six of them have fled to Orzammar? Some of my subjects have left my kingdom and taken refuge with King Bhelen. I would like to know what provoked such a thing.”
Cullen looked uncomfortable and, for the first time, stuttered slightly. “It w-was the dwarf, Dagna, sire. I freely admit that I was lax. Because she had no magic, I did not see her as a threat and allowed her too much freedom in the Circle. She secretly incited some of the more subversive mages to turn to apostasy and helped them escape. I apologise most sincerely, sire. It will not happen again; the security breach has been closed.”
“Exactly which ‘subversive mages’ are we talking about here?” Anders asked the question and Alistair silently blessed his arrival. The answer would mean something to him, whereas it wouldn’t to the rest of them.
“Sire, may I ask what place the Warden has in this meeting?” Cullen’s glare was met with Anders’ most bland and annoying smirk. “Neither the Circle nor the Chantry is answerable to them and, to my knowledge, they stand independent of the Crown, also.”
“I invited Anders some months ago to act as my Court Mage in addition to being the representative of the Grey Wardens at Court. As I recall, Knight Commander, you were made aware of this at the time.”
“With respect, Your Majesty, this apostate cannot represent the Circle of Mages at your Court. As he is ably demonstrating right now, he has no knowledge of the current situation there. If you wish for a Court Mage, I will be happy to send you one who is suitable.”
In the silence that followed this outburst, the temperature seemed to drop significantly. It was a trick Alistair had learnt some time ago, but rarely used. He regarded Cullen for a long moment, keeping his face hard and cold, making sure the Templar knew he had stepped over the line. “I believe I prefer to choose my own advisors, Knight Commander,” he said finally, keeping his voice deliberately gentle.
A wave of red flared through Cullen’s face, flushing up to the roots of his ginger hair. It was impossible to say whether it stemmed from embarrassment or fury. Certainly his jaw was clenched hard. “As y-you say, sire,” he gritted out.
“However, you are correct in saying that I should receive regular updates on the welfare of my subjects in the Circle. In future I shall expect a report from you… let’s say every four weeks, shall we?”
A muscle twitched in Cullen’s cheek. “As you wish, sire.”
“What about the children?” Teagan had kept quiet so far, but he burst in now. “My apologies for interrupting, sire, but I’ve heard nothing from Connor in months. We need to know that the children are safe.”
“They are as safe as it is possible for mages to be, Your Grace, given their inherent instability. I have made their safety and welfare my first concern. They are being carefully and properly taught to respect the dangers inherent in the burden they carry.”
”Burden…” Anders choked the word out in simmering fury. “It’s only a burden if you’re forced to repress it, if you’re taught that you should hate yourself for it.”
Alistair held up a hand, forestalling any further outburst. “Why has Arl Teagan received no correspondence from his nephew, Knight Commander?”
“Your Majesty, Your Grace, I have to make the decisions that I think best for the welfare of all the mages under my supervision. I do not feel it is conducive to young mages learning their place in the world for them to retain external ties. Therefore I no longer allow them to receive or send letters to their former relatives.”
While Teagan protested that he was not a former relative and Anders sputtered that a mage’s place in the world should be to be useful, Alistair took a good long look into Cullen’s eyes. It appeared he really believed this stuff, really believed that he was doing his duty the best he could. He was willing to bet Grand Cleric Leanna believed she was, too. Alistair wondered how many of the nobles and commoners who feared mages would agree with them.
There was one thing in all of this that seemed to Alistair to be more important than anything else, right now, so he deliberately forced the discussion back to where he needed it to be. “Knight Commander, what is wrong with the First Enchanter?”
The residual mutterings from the previous conversation went silent. Everyone wanted to know the answer to this one.
Cullen thought about it before answering, and his words were a little hesitant. “The retirement of Knight Commander Greagoir hit the First Enchanter hard, I think. They had worked together a long time and I don’t think he was looking forward to continuing without him. He began to seek seclusion, to sleep more than he previously had. As I said, I have picked up as many duties as possible to allow him to continue this way for as long as is required.”
“Is he ill?” Anders’ sharp question received a decisive shake of the head from Cullen.
“No. He is in good health, considering his age.” For once, the Knight Commander looked directly at Anders without allowing his distaste for a free mage to show. “I can assure you, I have done all I can to ensure he remains so.”
-oOo-
As soon as the Knight Commander’s audience came to a conclusion, and he had been shown out, Alistair turned to Leliana. “Was he telling the truth?”
She thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “I don’t believe he lied at all, but he kept a lot of things back, I think. His body language was very cautious and the whole question of the First Enchanter bothered him a great deal.”
Alistair addressed an apparently empty alcove, “Zev?”
The assassin moved into view. “I agree; even when no-one was watching him, his reactions were consistent.”
“We should have pressed him harder, got more out of him.” Now that he was freed from the restraints of his enemy’s presence, Anders was vibrating around the room like a nervous pendulum, his cat winding between his ankles. “He’s got the mages on some kind of activity rota? What’s he done, imprisoned them all? Does he let them out for exercise for half an hour or something?”
“What’s the point of pushing him harder? We would only have got lies if we had, I think.” Alistair drummed his fingers on Teagan’s throne, thinking. “I could go to the Circle, but they would make sure I only saw what they wanted me to.” His thoughtful gaze roamed to the bard and she met his gaze, waiting. “Leliana, I have a question for you, and you too, Zev.”
“Yes, Alistair?”
“Maestà?”
“Do you think you could break into the Circle?”
-oOo-
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I know I usually review on ff.net but it's actually nice to know that someone other than the author can read what I think of your writing - that's the problem with ff.net - you review and unless someone especially wants to know what other people are saying about the fic no one else reads it... Here we can get into a discussion about how much we love it...
I think I may be talking myself into posting my next big fic here as well as there. *sigh*
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He's getting a bit wound up. Turning around the elephant that is politics isn't fast enough for him.
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I totally agree with this. I was actually feeling a lot of anxiety reading this chapter, because I get the feeling something truly, truly ugly has happened at the Circle. Like, most of the mages who were identified early on as potentially dangerous have been made Tranquil.
*shudder*
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The best bit is the stuff that, if Alistair gets his shit together and stops it, will never actually happen because it's all long-term (say 20 years hence minimum) plans. If we have a happy ending (I assume nothing) then there may have to be a couple of AU's afterwards.
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