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Power of the Ring: Ch. 11

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Chapter Eleven : Bhelen for King

The next morning came too quickly, and everyone gathered in the barroom downstairs.  

Morrigan looked displeased, rubbing her head as they all sat down. She turned her yellow eyes to Alistair.

"You can have your warden back tonight!" She snapped. "He very nearly gave me a black eye last night, with all his flailing nonsense!"

Darrian's cheeks went red. "Its the nightmares.. And I've never been much of a calm sleeper..." He beseeched her.  Alistair chuckled.

"Excuses. If you did not want me there, you just need to of said so!" Morrigan turned her displeased gaze to Darrian.

"Come on, I promise to stay on my side tonight, I promise!" He begged.

Morrigan narrowed her eyes as Darrian gave his best impression of a begging mabari, his eyes wide and bottom lip jutting out. ".... Fine. FINE." Morrigan agreed after a long disapproving moment. "But if you dare smack me again, I'll tie you to the bed posts!"

Darrian chuckled. "I promise. I wouldn't want to bruise your pretty face." He reached out to brush her cheek with his fingers, and she did not move away. A sure sign that all this banter was just foolishness, and she had not really wanted to give Darrian to Alistair.

"Excuse me while I go relieve my stomach of its contents." Alistair mumbled, making gagging sounds.

"Oh shush, I think its sweet." Leliana cooed.

"Can we stop this foolishness?" Sten interrupted.

"Oh, yeah. Of course." Darrian turned his attention away from the witch.  They began to discuss tactics over a few mugs of ale, deciding that they would split up and see where each canidate for king stood. It was obvious that the dwarves would not be able to send aid as long as they were deadlocked. They needed a leader. A strong leader.  They would go seperately, and meet back at Tapsters around dinner time.  Though how they were to tell time without the sun to guide them, Darrian was not sure.  Alistair and Leliana would be going to the Diamond Quarter, as they were the best at handling nobility in a non threatening manner.  Morrigan had agreed to speak with the merchants in the Commons, and Sten would be heading to the Provings.  Darrian didn't expect the qunari to ask many questions, but he expected Sten to overhear what the warriors thought of Bhelen and Harrowmont.

That left Darrian with Dust Town. Where the casteless were kept. The idea of casteless disgusted Darrian. They were basically cast offs, the unwanted, much like the elves were in Denerim. Believed to be the offsprings of criminals and the like, quarantined away from the rest of society just for an accident of birth.

Racist against their own kind. These dwarves disgust me.

Duncan ran about his feet as he made his was to Dust Down. On the way, a merchant's cart caught his eye.  He wandered over to it, eyeing two things. One was the most beautifully crafted dagger he had ever seen. A red steel blade, slightly curved, with a rose golden handle embossed with thorny roses.  The other was a hand mirror, made with the same rose gold with several tasteful gems embedded around the shiny surface.  

"Go 'head. Pick it up." The merchant urged.

Darrian reached out and took the mirror in his hands, turning it over and over. Morrigan had mentioned a golden mirror she had once stolen from a noblewoman who had passed through the Wilds.  Her mother, Flemeth was her name apparently, had broken the mirror upon the ground, chastising Morrigan for coveting such a material thing.  Morrigan had only been a child, and though Flemeth's actions made Morrigan stronger, Darrian could tell the wound still stung.

This mirror.. It looks just like Morrigan described.

"Cost one soveriegn." The merchant said, a grin on his grizzled lips, sensing he was about to make a sale. "Would be a perfect gift for the missus."

Missus. Morrigan would hang me up by my toe nails if I called her that. Still... I think she deserves it. A beautiful mirror for her beautiful face.

Darrian fished out his coin purse, noticing he was down to his last couple of soveriegns. He sighed, but forked one soveriegn over. He looked at the dagger longingly as the mirror was carefully placed in a velvet lined wooden box than handed to him.

"The dagger's a nice piece too, isn't it?" The merchant goaded.

"It is." Darrian sighed. "Alas, its not meant to be. Thank you for the mirror."

The merchant nodded and Darrian tucked the box in his rucksack before heading away.  The
mabari barked happily, twirling a bit.  Darrian smiled.

"Sorry boy, this isn't for you."

Duncan let out a whimper.

"Oh don't give me that. Its for Morrigan. You like her."

Duncan gave another happy bark.

The difference between the Orzammar Commons and Dust Town were greater than the difference between Denerim and the Alienage.  All the buildings in Dust Town resembled sheds that had not successfully stood up against a raging fire. The stone was the color of coal, and a rancid stench permeated the air.  The dwarven residents were cast about like trash, sitting at the road side begging for coin.  They watched him with hungry eyes as he made his way deeper into Dust Town, making sure to keep a firm hold on his bag.  Duncan whimpered, sticking close to his master and looking quite uneasy.

"You from the Shaperate? I knew they'd send someone after me." A voice growled at Darrian.
It was a casteless, with a very garish tattoo over his forehead.

"What's a shaperate?" Darrian asked, his brow raised warily.

"Don't try to fool me. I'm not letting ya take me in! I've already passed it on anyhow!" The dwarf drew his blades, a pair of dark, rusting daggers and lunged at Darrian who jumped aside, landing face first in the dirt.

"Maker! What the-" Darrian protested, scrambling back to his feet as the  dwarf struck again.  Duncan inserted himself between Darrian and the dwarf, lunging. The dwarf jumped backwards a little too late, and Duncan's claws dug into the bearded one's chest, knocking him off his feet.  

Darrian unsheated his own blades and the dwarf scurried away from the mabari, quickly getting to his feet. The elf took a step to the right, twisting his torso as he did so, bringing both blades down in an arc as the dwarf lunged again, both blades held high aiming for Darrian's chest. Darrian's blow was able to knock away the dwarf's blades so instead of hitting their mark they were instead embedded in his upper thigh.

"Aughh!" Darrian growled, elbowing the dwarf in the face, pushing him back. As he did so, the dwarf pulled the daggers out, causing more damage than they did during the intial blow.  Ignoring the pain coursing through him, Darrian moved like a man uninjured, ducking under the next blow and bringing his own daggers to the dwarf's throat. With a swift motion he slashed his dagger across the neck causing blood to spurt out and coat the elf.

The casteless fell to the floor, twitching slightly as the life drained from his face.
Darrian looked down at the still body, his brow furrowed. That didn't have to happen. If he'd only listened to me. He wiped the blood from his face with his arm. Blegh. Now I really need a bath. The elf limped to the side of the street, careful not to put too much stress on his injured leg. And a healer.

He inspected the wound, glad to see that the daggers didn't seem to have been poisonous.
Darrian dug through his pack, bringing out his bandages and a poultice Morrigan had made. He applied it to the wound, wincing as it stung, than wrapped the bandages tightly around it.  Darrian used Duncan as support as he made his way to his feet again. I really should stop walking around by myself. I only seem to get in trouble.

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head as Duncan gave him a pitiful glance.

"Come on. We've still got to talk to them. Hope I don't get shanked again." I wonder if this is how the shemlen felt, walking into the Alienage...

By the time Darrian left Dust Town it was late in the evening. He had learned much about the dwarves and how they viewed the casteless. He had also learned that Prince Bhelen wanted to allow the casteless to take up arms against the darkspawn, something that the current tradition would not allow. Harrowmont was more than happy to allow the casteless to stay where they were and amount to nothing. Bhelen saw their worth, was willing to give them a chance to prove themselves and rise above the life in the slums.

Granted they also said Bhelen was a cut throat bastard, but Darrian knew that sometimes in order to be a good leader one had to be a bit of a bastard.

He was the last one to make it to Tapsters, in fact he was so late Alistair and Morrigan were standing outside the tavern, glancing about for him as he hobbled up.

"Maker's breath! What happened!" Alistair exclaimed once he saw Darrian, moving over to help the elf walk.

Morrigan looked relieved, than worried, and finally displeased when she saw Darrian's wound. "Truly, I can not let you go anywhere alone." She tutted, opening the door for Alistair and Darrian to pass through.

"It was a misunderstanding, really!" Darrian insisted after he informed everyone about his fight in Dust Town.  His leg was across Morrigan's lap as they sat in the barroom, discussing the things they had learned. She was quietly muttering about Darrian's foolishness as she tended to the wound.

"The provings gave nothing useful, but these papers. A dwarf named Vartag gave them to me. Told me to give them to the Grey Warden I traveled with." Sten said stoically, sliding the papers across the table to Darrian.  Alistair leaned over to read them as well.

"These... are what? Land deeds? Wait.." Darrian flipped through them, making sure he was reading them correctly. "Is the Harrowmont dude promising two different families the same land?"

"Looks like it." Alistair sighed.  

"In the Diamond quarter the families seemed parted pretty equally. Those wanting to stay with the traditional way Orzammar is run are siding with Harrowmont. Those who believe things should change are siding with Bhelen." Leliana explained, looking tired. "Its exasperating."

"There are rumors, of course, that Bhelen framed King Aeducan's middle child for the murder of his eldest." Morrigan finally commented, having finished patching up Darrian's leg.

"That's terrible!" Leliana gasped.

Morrigan shrugged. " 'Tis the way of the world. Survival of the fittest. That sort of practice is common place everywhere."

"Still.. I think we should support Harrowmont." Leliana insisted. "He was who the last king wanted on the throne! We should respect his wishes."

"The last king was weak. Harrowmont is weak." Sten shook his head.

"I agree with Sten." Alistair nodded. "No, don't give me that look!" Leliana had begun to glare at him. "Think about it. Harrowmont is getting support by promising more than he can deliver. And by the sounds of it, he wants Orzammar to cut itself off from the world. That can't be good, can it?"

Darrian nodded. "Exactly. And What about the casteless and surface dwarves? Harrowmont is more than happy to ignore them." He sighed heavily. ". . . .Its the Alienage all over again. Are dwarves on the surface, in the slums... really that different from the nobles?"
Leliana looked over to Darrian, her gaze softening. ". . . You're right. It will be a difficult road, but perhaps Bhelen can lead them down the road of change."

"I should go see the people on these papers... They need to know of Harrowmont's treachery." Darrian decided, trying to stand.

"You are not going anywhere." Morrigan insisted, pulling Darrian back into his seat.
"I'll go." Alistair offered, taking the papers. "Though not alone. I don't want to end up like you." He danced aside as Darrian moved to slap him. "Sten, Leliana?" They both nodded and stood, following Alistair out of Tapsters.

"Come on. You should rest." Morrigan insisted, helping Darrian to his feet. The elf frowned.

"I'm not a porcelain doll, you know." He protested.

" 'Tis true. But where would we be if you were incapacitated?" Morrigan asked, helping him up the stairs.

"You would care less about what happened to Alistair or Leliana." Darrian mumbled, resting his head against Morrigan's shoulder.

" 'Tis also true. But I care what happens to you." She stated simply, and the elf smiled protesting no more as Morrigan guided him into their room, laid him down on the bed, then
went about washing the blood from his face.

"Why are you smirking like that? 'Tis most disturbing." Morrigan frowned, dipping the cloth she was using to clean his face into the bowl of water at her side.

"I must be delirious with pain." Darrian mumbled.

Morrigan chuckled, shaking her head. "There, you're clean again. Though, I would say your armor has just about had it." She added as she began loosening the fastenings of Darrian's leather armor and sliding it off of him.

"You're not crippled, you know. You could help me." Morrigan insisted.

Darrian whimpered. "But when will I get the chance for a beautiful woman to undress me again?"

"I am not undressing you. I am merely removing this ragged leather you call armor. Honestly, you should get it replaced." She made a face as she cast the leather aside.

"And how exactly should I do that? Funds are low."

" They wouldn't be so low if you didn't insist on the best rooms in the house." Morrigan frowned.

"That wasn't my idea! It was that dwarf.. Clare. And you didn't complain last night." Darrian growled, rolling over onto his side, his back to Morrigan. "If you want I'll go demand my money back and we can sleep in the sewers with the casteless. That what you want?"

" Of course not! But this is frivelous spending though!  Armor, that's important!" Morrigan complained, sounding exasperated.

Darrian sat up, than slipped out of the bed. "Giving my friends a few nights to relax in comfort, that's important. I can repair my armor." He limped over to it, and swept it into his arms.

"Where are you going?" Morrigan asked, standing as well.

"Out. I don't want to listen to this right now." He stated bluntly, hobbling out of their room and stumbling a bit down the stairs. Duncan started to follow, but Darrian stopped him. "Stay with her. I don't want her alone, just in case." He whispered to the mabari, who nodded and slipped back inside.

He made his way back to the table they had all sat in earlier, piling his leather armor onto it, and he began the painstaking task of repairing it.

"Looks like a lost cause ta me." Clare noted, walking over to him and setting a mug of something warm and steaming down near him.

"I didn't order anything.." Darrian said, looking up from his work.  The dwarf girl winked.

"Ya looked depressed. Thought ya could use something to warm ya bones." Clare pulled out a chair and sat down across from Darrian.

"Thanks." Darrian said appreciatively, taking the mug in his hands and taking a large gulp.

"So? What's buggin' ya? A fight with ya girl?"

"She's not my girl." Darrian mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he picked up his needle again and started to sew the patches of his armor back together.

"Uh huh. Suuuure she isn't." Clare winked.

Darrian sighed, looking slightly angry. "Look. I just want to be alone, all right?"

Clare stood, shrugging slightly. "If ya insist." She cast him an appreciative glance.
"Though if she don't want ya, I know quite a few girls who would." She winked again before sauntering off.

Why couldn't I attract girls this easily in the Alienage? Seriously?

He cast the armor aside in frustration.I shouldn't of bought the mirror.. She's going to hate it. Call it frivelous and stupid. I just wanted to see her smile. I should of bought new armor.. That stupid leather has been with me since Ostagar...

Darrian banged his head on the table in frustration.

"Darrian? What are you still doing up?" Alistair called as he, Leliana and Sten returned.

"Brooding." Darrian mumbled, not looking up from the table.  Alistair waved the others away and went to sit at Darrian's table.

"What's wrong?" Alistair reached out and took the mug of hot cider. He sniffed appreciatively and than took a drink.

"My armor sucks, and I'm terrible with money." Darrian whined. "And that's my drink!"

"Touchy." Alistair handed the drink back over, and picked up the discarded armor instead.
"You're right. It's not pretty. Why haven't you gotten some new armor? I picked up a great set of scale mail from a merchant earlier today."

"Because I'm a magpie and attracted to pretty, shiny things." Darrian mumbled, hiding his head in his arms again. "Didn't help that I paid for the inn rooms. Or supplies."

Alistair frowned slightly. "You know. That doesn't seem fair, does it? It all coming out of your pay. You can have my armor if you want?"

"It wouldn't fit me." Darrian sighed. "I know I'm acting like a fool."

"Why don't you go back upstairs? I'm sure Morrigan will be happy to make you feel more like a fool?"

Darrian narrowed his eyes. "She's already done that. That's why I'm down here in the first place." He waved his hand dismissively. "How did it go with those papers?"

"Oh! Went great, actually. Both Helmi and Dace are switching their votes over to Bhelen. And Bhelen has decided to grant us an audience tomorrow."

"Whoopee." Darrian sighed. "I feel so honored."

Alistair burst out laughing. "That's just about how I feel.  Still, I think its the right choice."

"Yeah. Me too. So hey.." Darrian suddenly grinned, eager to change the subject. "How did
things go with Leliana last night?"

Alistair smirked. "We made mad, mad love until the early hours of the day."

"Seriously?" Darrian raised an eyebrow.

"NO!" Alistair's cheeks turned slightly red. "Maker, no! We pretty much went straight to bed."

Darrian chuckled. "Aww. Too bad for you."

"So?" Alistair asked, grinning again.

"So... what?"

"You and Morrigan? I can't say much for your taste... She's a nasty creature, but pretty enough I suppose.."

Darrian smirked. "Nothing. Well... nothing much, anyway." His mood darkened again, thoughts going back to the mirror. He sighed again, laying his head back on the table.

Alistair cocked his head to the side, and poked Darrian's skull. "Hey. Come on now, I was kidding. She's not that nasty.. I suppose..."

"Its not that... I..." Darrian mumbled some more. "I just don't want to talk about it."

Alistair watched the elf for a few long moments before standing. "You know, the longer you avoid the issue, the worse its going to get." He noted before making his way to his room.

Damn it. Why did you have to get all wise now?

Darrian forced himself to his feet, collected his armor, swallowed the last of his cider, than made his way up the stairs.  Morrigan was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking stern.

"I was wondering when you would return." She said disapprovingly.

Darrian said nothing, just limped over to the small table, laid down his armor than dug though his pack, withdrawing the box that contained the mirror. He than hobbled over to Morrigan and thrust it into her hands.

"What's this?" She asked surprised as she looked from him to the box.

"Its what I bought instead of armor. The foolish elf that I am." Darrian replied crossly before tossing himself on the bed behind Morrigan. She carefully opened the box, and let out a gasp of surprise as she saw the golden mirror.  She traced the delicate metalwork with her fingers before taking it by the handle and removing it from the box.

" 'Tis is... a mirror... It looks just like the mirror my mother..." She suddenly went quiet.

"I know. That's why I got it. How foolish I was, just wanting to make you smile." Darrian grumbled, rolling over on his side, back towards Morrigan, and shutting his eyes.

Foolish boy... Morrigan smiled softly as she continued to look at the mirror. He bought me a gift, just wanting me to smile... and I insulted him for it, what a fool I am...

She glanced behind her, about to speak, but stopping short when she noticed Darrian's even breathing. He must of been exhausted to fall asleep so quickly..

She placed the mirror on the bedside table, than adjusted the blanket to cover the elf. The witch than changed into her night gown and climbed into bed beside him. Morrigan snuggled up next to Darrian as he slept, wrapping an arm around his waist and softly kissing the back of his neck.

What am I going to do with you? She smiled, feeling pleased as she too fell asleep.

The next morning Darrian was surprised to wake up in Morrigan's arms. Neither him nor the witch had moved much during the night, therefore she was still snuggled up against his back. He moved carefully, so not to wake her, slipping out of the bed and dressing quietly. His leg was feeling better, though he still limped slightly.

Duncan nuzzled Darrian's leg as the elf glanced back at the sleeping witch. A small smile appeared on his lip and he moved over to her, leaning down to kiss her forehead only to be surprised when she peered up at him with her golden eyes.

" 'Twas wondering if you were going to try to sneak out of here." Morrigan said shrewdly, adjusting herself slightly, than tossing her arms around the elf's neck.

"Wouldn't think of it." He smirked, though that was what he had been planning. "Look, I-" He began, hoping to apologize for the night before. Morrigan stopped him, placing a finger on his lips.

" 'Twas I who was foolish. I was merely concerned.. You coming back limping and bleeding did not sit well with me." Morrigan said softly, glancing away as if embarrassed.

"It didn't help that I acted like a child and fled." Darrian smiled softly, touching her forehead with his.

" 'Tis true." She consented, sliding a hand through his hair and bringing her lips up to kiss him.

When the kiss broke, Darrian smiled. "The others are probably waiting for us." He tried to pull away, but Morrigan tightened her grip.

"Let them wait. I am not done with you yet." Morrigan insisted, drawing him in for another kiss.

I'll never be done with you, you foolish boy..
Power of the Ring : Chapter 11

Bhelen for King
© 2011 - 2024 Myridd
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overlord0011's avatar
Any chance we will be see the next chapter soon?