Chapter 1: Married Life - Childhood's End

The predawn light added a grey wash to the apartment, one of the highest in the alienage. Raviathan sat across from his father, Cyrion, over a breakfast of oats and a boiled egg each. The other two chairs tucked in at the table hadn’t been used for years, their presence a silent echo of loved ones lost. The memory of Adaia and Solyn lingered in the room like the last notes of music that continued to reverberate in the mind after the instrument had stopped playing.

Heat from the ancient iron stove took the worst of the chill from the air, but the bite of winter never truly disappeared. Reinforced beams secured their home to the looming wall that surrounded the alienage and allowed for enough stability to keep the precious stove without caving the wooden floor. Even so, the whole apartment structure trembled during the spring storms like a frail grandmother with a chill. After years of abuse from the harsh Fereldan winters, a network of cracks covered the old plaster walls.

“Son, I want to talk to you about something important.” With iron grey hair and a set of fine lines etched on his care worn face, Cyrion’s resigned air made the elf look even older than he was.

“Yes, Father?” Though still touched with sleep, Raviathan’s voice was resonant and clear, ranging from a dark tenor to a baritone depending on his mood. Though his voice could be heard throughout the alienage when he chose to, his normal tone tended towards soft spoken.

Rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, Cyrion said, “It is time you became an adult. As such, I have found a wife for you.”

For a moment, Raviathan couldn’t breathe. He had known this day would come, but he hadn’t expected it so soon after his eighteenth birthday. Though technically of age to become an adult among his kin, Raviathan thought he would still have a few more years as was common practice. The mere thought of a wife caused his chest to tighten with anxiety. “Father, I don’t want to be married.”

“I know it’s daunting,” Cyrion said with a gentle smile, “but it’s for the best. In any case, there’s no arguing with it. The dowry has been paid.”

“You already paid the dowry for her?” It was done then, Raviathan thought. Unless there was some grave reason for one of them to turn down the marriage, one that would ruin either of their reputations, he would be handfasted when she arrived and officially married on the Summerday Annum four months away. First Day Annum was in a few days, far too early for the Chantry permits to be processed. But if his father grew impatient, he might push them to marry on the Wintersend Annum in a month.

“I had some money I’ve been saving for this,” Cyrion said.

The money must have been saved when his aunt, Solyn, was alive. Since her death two years ago, finances had grown tighter. How long had his father been planning this? Raviathan hadn’t even known his father had employed a shaddain, the matchmakers who travelled between the various alienages to negotiate for a family. The rushed marriage meant Raviathan’s position in the alienage remained uncertain even after years of good behavior.

Cyrion continued, “I received word yesterday that she will be arriving early. I planned on telling you last night, but you didn’t return home until late.”

It was a small admonishment, but Raviathan was certain his father was unaware of his current activities. Years ago when rumors of his indiscretions had nearly cost him his standing in the alienage, Raviathan had taken steps to find more discreet partners. His father probably thought Raviathan had been working late at Alarith’s shop, helping at the orphanage, or celebrating with his cousins. Though the rumors had lessened, apparently it wasn’t enough. “Why is she coming early?”

“Oh, who knows,” Cyrion replied. “It could be her parents were worried about the weather, or there could be trouble in the Highever alienage. She should be here this afternoon.”

Short of running off to find the Dalish, Raviathan saw no way out of this situation. Finding the Dalish was a fantasy for many young alienage elves and often the subject of games played out in back alleys. Legends had built the Dalish to mythological status among their city elf cousins, as fantastic as dragons or griffins. Two years ago, Raviathan had come close to sneaking out of the city to find them, but thoughts of his father had stopped him. It felt like a betrayal to a father lost in mourning. Still stunned by the news, Raviathan asked, “What’s she like?”

“That’s my boy.” Cyrion smiled. “Her name is Nesiara, and she’s very pretty. I knew you’d ask. According to the shaddain, she’s supposed to be a veritable genius with crafts.”

“Thank you, Father. I appreciate what you’ve done for me.” Raviathan responded automatically as he took in the news. His cousin Soris was five months older and wasn’t betrothed yet. Why the rush to wed me, Raviathan wondered. Only orphans were hurried out this soon after their coming of age. Valendrian was often hard pressed to find a match as soon as possible in order to relieve the cost of keeping up the orphanage.

Cyrion patted his son’s knee as he got up to leave, then hesitated and sat back down. The lines in his forehead grew more pronounced as he added, “One more thing. It’s best not to mention any of your training, the martial arts and sword play, and especially your ... other training.”

Though always nervous about Solyn’s arts, his father’s fear turned to intolerance after she had been killed. Now Cyrion wouldn’t even let Raviathan work as an herbalist, though the alienage needed those skills desperately. In the face of his father’s orders, Raviathan had become one of the alienage’s hidden secrets.

Once alone Raviathan washed the dishes, locked up, and left for Alarith’s store. He wound his way through the labyrinth of hallways and stairs that led from their apartment to the street. The corridors were narrow allowing only one elf to pass comfortably through at a time. Should two need to pass, they would have to press their backs up against the wall and step sideways past one another in a dance so familiar the steps became automatic.

Occasional small windows shed light on the uneven stairs, but the lack of glass made the building drafty. Raviathan knew immediately when he passed an outer wall as the air chilled and plaster became damp. Frost left white marks along the windowsills and wooden floor.

Having lived here his whole life, he didn’t see the mold stains in the plaster or cracks that exposed the wood underneath. It was as it had always been. His apartment building wasn’t the best in the alienage, but it was better than most and the high walls allowed for privacy.

As Raviathan walked, he felt the city beginning to wake. The crisp stillness in the air was broken by a few ragged dogs salvaging scraps and cats hunting for mice. An animal’s final shriek followed a metallic snap. His own family hadn’t been so desperate to feed on rats, but winters were hard and more than a number of elves took to eating alley vermin. An occasional light drifted out of apartment windows, a small yellow glow from a dirty, frost coated window marking waking life. Servants and workers were getting ready to leave now that the gates were creaking open. Raviathan shivered in the cold as he headed down the street.

There had been slushy half frozen rain three days ago. Mud puddles frozen in the morning chill pocketed the earthen streets. One large puddle was so persistent that all attempts to keep it filled with dirt had failed. Old boards were placed across it to allow passage, but still water bred disease. This winter had been unusually mild so far with no snow or sludge, just frost coating the morning.

Alarith’s store was located in one corner of the alienage square, the only place behind the high walls that had the luxury of paved stones. Worn and cracked, the stones were almost lost in the dirt. The winter solstice had just passed and the new year was about to begin. Raviathan thought it was odd the new year started six days after the solstice, but who knew why the days were marked as they were.

The vhenadahl, the great tree that was the reminder of their heritage, stood strong and graceful in the center of the square. The townspeople had decorated the tree in grand regalia for the coming annum. The vibrant red and green paint on the tree seemed even brighter amongst all the brown and grey, the one thing in the alienage everyone took pains to care for. Ornaments hung from the lowest branches along with little paper prayers that would dissolve in the rain.

Raviathan glanced toward the platform at the other end of the square. On the annum, Salia would stand there and marry Redden, a young man from Amaranthine. Over the last few years, he had watched many of his former lovers marry on that stage. He was glad Salia was staying in Denerim. Most women left the alienage for their matches. As with all of his relationships, their time together had been short, but they had remained friends when it was over. Redden’s exuberance paired well with her quiet confidence, and Raviathan had enjoyed spending time getting to know the new elf. The platform was a place for celebration, but when he examined it now all he felt was quiet trepidation.

As the first one awake in the morning, Raviathan unlocked the store and began cleaning. Thankful for the time alone to think, Rav reflected on his father’s decision. Why rush his marriage? Compared to what little he knew of humans, elves had strict rules concerning children and romance. There was a fine line between the natural affection elves shared and what was considered too much for a child to engage in. A romantic kiss would result in lectures and adults glowering at the offenders for weeks. Two children who engaged in sex would shame the families. If exile wasn’t called for, it made finding a match for the offenders difficult. Exorbitant dowries had to be paid to marry those children off, and it hurt the chances of any siblings no matter how pure they were.

Those rumors were the main reason he had turned his attention to three widows two years ago. They had been more of a challenge to seduce as they were reluctant to have sex with a child, but after a month of casual flirting and then another month of serious flirting, he had found peaceful arrangements with each of them. He wasn’t certain whether they knew about one another or not, but he did know that they had no illusions about marriage or love. The relationships were purely physical, interspersed with the occasional interesting conversation. Over the years Raviathan had come to realize how unfair life was for them. They were beautiful women, but because of their age, late thirties and forties, they would never be able to remarry. He liked their competence and smart conversation. Compared to the insecurities and jealousies of the girls his age, these women possessed a refreshing confidence. If all that hadn’t been enough, the older women were discreet.

As elves had a low birth rate, his partners were generally safe, and he knew how to keep a pregnancy from continuing. He’d only had to do that once, thankfully, three years ago. It was in both of their interests as they would be sent away from the alienage in exile once the news got out, and it would be impossible for her to find a job with the complication of a child. Exile left an elf to the winds of fate, most of which ended at a brothel. Raviathan knew a few boys who had struggled only to realize that their only recourse was to be had by anyone who had the coin to buy their bodies. Single mothers were often forced into the same profession when a husband could not be secured or their combined income wasn’t enough. He and Fenella spoke little to each other for months after she had drunk the tea.

Having a baby was not practical, they both knew that, but the idea of a child held a second unrealized future for Raviathan. He had thought about it for weeks as he waited late into the night for sleep to claim him. He thought about the child often. A child to care for, to hold when she cried, to change diapers, it filled him with a longing he had never known. He felt it pull in his chest. How would it feel to touch his baby’s skin as he washed her? To lie on the floor playing and tickling the small body as she giggled? To see her laugh? Would his child have his mother’s eyes? How would it feel to gaze upon his baby’s face? In time, he and Fenella renewed their friendship but never became intimate again.

He thought about the relationships of his past as he dusted the shelves and checked that everything was stocked correctly. Many names and faces flashed through his memory, some stronger than others. Fenella. Sharra. Lorian. Poor Jaslyn. That was one of the few that he truly regretted, though Desha and Pauler were still painful. He hadn’t felt shame for most of his actions, but he did with those two. It was a shame that had gotten worse as time went on and the consequences continued to grow darker. It wiggled in his gut, eating him from the inside out. With a marriage, there was a loss of freedom, but as he reflected on his past, he thought perhaps it might not be so bad. Left to his own devises, he had been hurting people. Sometimes badly. It wasn’t fair to them. Still, he wished he could choose his own wife. And have a bit more warning.

She’s probably just as nervous as I am, he thought. She was leaving behind everything she knew. All of her support- her friends and family. She would be lonely for a while until she made new friends. Giving up your family though. That had to be the hardest part. The elves who came to the alienage sometimes talked about that, how odd it was to be in a new community. It was hard for Raviathan to imagine not seeing his cousins’ faces every day. That realization hit him as he swept the main floor. Giving up everything you knew must incredibly lonely. He let that thought settle into his mind.