Chapter 13: Married Life - Petty Tyrants

Raviathan smelled wine as a light kiss brushed his cheek. “Wake up, cousin. You remember what day it is?”

“Get drunk before noon day, isn’t it?” Raviathan murmured.

Shianni snuggled against his back. “Silly. Can’t remember the last time you slept late. Soris is already dressed.”

“You two have had breakfast?”

“Like an hour ago,” Shianni said with a laugh. Her laugh was light and warm. Like her.

“Why’d you let me sleep so late?” Raviathan sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Thought you might need it. After all, you’re going to be up late tonight.”

Raviathan returned his cousin’s impish grin and kissed her. “Go enjoy your wine while you can.”

She left him to eat a simple breakfast of toast and tea. Feeling soft from sleep, Raviathan enjoyed the quiet meditation of eating alone in the morning. He was stepping into his own life, making his own choices. Tonight, he would wake with his wife in his arms, and she would finally learn everything about him, about his family. She would learn why they had escaped the Tevinter slavers, the struggles he and his family had lived with, the dangers their children might face. Would she be able to hold their secrets? He had no fear of his wedding day, but tomorrow was another matter. Would she feel betrayed? Maker, please let her understand. I had no choice. I was born with this legacy. Let her understand that I love her, and nothing will change that.

After breakfast, Soris arrived and the two dressed together for their shared day.

“I never thought I’d touch silk let alone wear it,” Soris said, his small smile doing nothing to hide his nervousness.

These were the finest clothes they would ever wear. Nesiara had picked out his colors, dark leather and rich, dusky blue silk with silver threading woven in. All Raviathan knew about his wife’s wedding clothes was that they were a combination of silk and doeskin. He had no idea what colors she would wear or the cut of her dress. Normally the making of wedding clothes helped bond a daughter with her new mother, but in his mother’s absence the task had fallen to Shianni. She had recruited Valora’s help and together the three had worked diligently on all the clothing, keeping as many secrets from the grooms as possible.

Soris’s clothes were lime green silk and rust colored velvet with gold trim. The color combination resembled jester’s motley. “I think Valora is trying to get back at me with this outfit, though I don’t know what for.”

“The red coloring suits you.”

“I guess. It’s the green that makes me look like a clown.”

Raviathan opened his mouth to comfort his cousin when they heard voices outside. Since he lived at the top of the building, Raviathan was unused to the traffic near Shianni’s home. A clatter of voices rose, carrying an urgency that caught both men’s attention. Shianni entered with Nessa and Nola in tow. Nessa’s arm flung around Shianni for support. Nola stared at Raviathan, her eyes traveling up and down. She blushed and turned away, ratcheting up the tension between them. They hadn’t spoken since the night she told him off.

“Shianni?” Dirt smudged her dress, and she was pale. Raviathan got a wet cloth and some soap.

“I’m fine.” Her voice shook. Raviathan kissed her temple as he cleaned her.

Nessa blurted, “There were humans here!”

“Humans,” Soris said, tension pulling him wire tight. “What... ?”

“Nobles. Three of them,” Nessa said. She lowered her voice, “Vaughan was here.”

Raviathan and Soris froze at the name. Soris asked, “W-what happened?”

“Before we even knew what was going on, Isa told us to run,” Nessa said. “Then she was gone. Those men wanted us to go with him. They were after women. Shianni hit him over the head with a bottle. Knocked him out cold.”

“Cousin,” Raviathan said in shock. Vaughan was here? That demon?

“I didn’t think,” Shianni said, and she sounded ready to cry. “He grabbed Ness...”

Ness ... Raviathan dropped the soapy cloth, fear freezing his brain.

“She’s fine,” Nola said, still not looking at him. “The two shems left carrying Vaughan.”

“I...” Raviathan’s voice broke.

“It’s okay,” Shianni said. “You can go.”

“I’ll take care of her.” Nessa put a hand on Shianni’s shoulder.

Raviathan didn’t remember leaving the apartment or hurrying through the streets. Half blinded by the harsh, winter sunlight, he ran to the square. Shem violating their home was bad enough, but Vaughan? The presence of the Arl’s son was as invasive as a knife in his gut. “Ness!?” For a second, he was startled by the boom in his voice, they way it carried through the square and stopped the buzz of conversation from the gathered elves.

“Here.”

He turned toward the sound of her voice and found her leaning against a wall of Valendrian’s home. His breath caught, fear stuck raw in his throat. When he held her, he could feel the faint trembling that still effected her. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Not at all. How’s Nola?”

Raviathan pulled away, his gaze intent as he examined her. He brushed back the fine slips of her hair that had escaped her braid. She was pale in the thin sunlight, her fine skin almost translucent. “Nola?”

“She was grabbed too. That ... that shem was so harsh with her. Shoved his tongue in her mouth. She was gagging. Tossed her around like she was a doll. Oh Maker, I wanted to throw up.”

“I ... she didn’t say anything. Ness... ?”

“Really, my love. I’m fine. You look good,” she said trying to smile away her nerves.

Raviathan pulled her into his arms. “Please, Ness. You’re alright?”

She nodded and leaned into him. “Just let me be here for a minute.”

“Anything, my love.” His lips brushed across her temple. Raviathan closed his eyes, opened himself to the calm her presence provided. Her hair smelled like soap and water, clean and pure. She relaxed into him, her shaking easing away, and only then did he believe she was unhurt.

She kissed his neck. “I’m going to find Valendrian. Let him know what happened.”

Reluctant, Raviathan released her. “Ness, if there’s some danger, anything, I want you to run. You hear me? Just get away to safety.”

“Yes, my love.” She kissed him before she left.

He watched her leave, the rest of the alienage a distant clatter that didn’t matter. She stood out, the one clear image among the blur of colors and movement of the other elves. Raviathan leaned against the wall where she had been and rubbed his temples to ease the sharp headache that had appeared.

“Cousin?”

Raviathan stood straight, his arm going around Soris’ shoulder. “Did you see Valora?”

“She’s fine. A little shaken. Ness?”

Raviathan nodded, “The same.” He squeezed Soris, kissed his temple. Humans brought death as they both knew all too well.

“It’s...” Soris’ voice cracked. “It’s going to be alright? Nobles...”

There wasn’t a guard in the city who could protect them from the Arl’s son. Soris looked about ready to faint. “Don’t worry, cousin. Valendrian will know what to do.” Raviathan shook his cousin gently. “Come on. They’re gone, and it’s our wedding day. You’ve got bigger worries.”

“Yeah.” Soris cracked a nervous smile. “That worry doesn’t seem so big anymore. I’ll give Vaughan that.”

“We’ll send him a rat tail as a thank you. Maybe in his soup.”

Soris heaved a sigh to clear out his thoughts. “Wine? I think I could use a cup.”

Raviathan nodded more to have something to distract his cousin than want for a drink. The elves gathered under the vhenadahl were jittery. The last attack had been four years ago, and had cost Adaia’s life. Before that was the purge.

“Is Ness alright?”

Raviathan turned to see Alorn, her son wrapped up in a blanket. “Fine,” he replied. “A little frazzled.”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen a shem. I forgot how big they are,” she said.

Taedor joined them. “Me too. And their eyes? Creepy. Just so ... dull. Like there’s nothing there.”

“Maker protect us.” Alorn made the sign of the sword over her heart. “I had forgotten that too. Whether they’re working or murdering, it’s the same fish-eyed flat. Like they’ve got no feeling in them.”

“I’ve been working with them for over a month,” Soris added, “and I’m still not used to it. Never know if they’re going to yell at you, hit you, or say ‘good job’.”

“Hey,” Raviathan said. “It’s our wedding day. I want to remember more than some shems. Let’s not let them ruin it for us.”

“Of course,” Taedor said with a smile. “This will be the first wedding in years where you get to dance more than play.”

Alorn hoisted her son up higher on her hip. “The lace sisters of the alienage have been looking forward to your wedding for years.”

Raviathan laughed. “I’m not sure how much of a husband I’ll be tonight. Drioni has had this look in her eyes for weeks.”

Soris was still pale, so Raviathan made excuses and led him out of the crowd in case he was going to be sick. Bad enough Soris was worried about his marriage now this. This was the last thing he needed today. Parasitic shems. They made everything worse. Raviathan glanced at the vhenadahl as they passed, but this time he received no comfort.

The vhenadahl was painted white and red for the wedding. The colors for spring were blue and white, but since this celebration came between the winter and spring annum, the elves had decided to mix the red of winter with the white of spring. As the colors didn’t go together during any season, Raviathan found the mix unsettling. The combination of spring and winter patterns clashed, strange in their unnatural jumble.

“Cousin, there’s another human.”

Raviathan’s stomach clenched. Of all days, why today? Why couldn’t these damn shems just leave them alone? Raviathan found the man leaning against an apartment building in the shade, casually surveying the alienage. The shem was a northerner, darker than Raviathan. His dark skin contrasted with his steel armor and pale cream cloak. Another noble? Not the right look. Not a guard either. “You think he’s from before?”

“Don’t know, but Rav, he’s armed. W-what are you going to do?” Soris asked, trotting up to match Raviathan’s quick march.

“Kill him.”

“Wh-what? Cousin, you can’t...”

“Oh, come on, Soris. I don’t even have a knife on me. The three of us are going to have a nice, friendly chat, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll get him over to the bridge and push him off. With that heavy armor, he should sink.”

“Rav. You’re crazy. You can’t...”

The dark human’s gaze fell on Raviathan with an interest that gave the elf pause. Raviathan tried to shake off the odd feeling, but his fear rose, making him wish he had a weapon. What did this man know? “Ser. This is the alienage. It’s no place for humans.”

“I am well aware this is an alienage,” the human said. He was older, mid forties Raviathan guessed, with his black hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He wore one gold earring in a style found in Rivain or Antiva but no accent marked his mild voice.

“Then you know you shouldn’t be here. The gate is just over there. Ser.”

“I have no intention of leaving.” The human’s attention was too sharp. He hadn’t just wandered in, not that many shems did, but he was here for a reason. Those two humans Raviathan had hurt a month ago wouldn’t have the money to hire a sell sword to go after him. Bounty hunter for the templars? That made no sense. Raviathan still wasn’t openly practicing as Solyn had.

Why? Why was this difficult shem here on his wedding day? “There is no reason for you to be here. Ser, this is a day of celebration. Your presence here is not only unnecessary, it is unwelcome. Would you please leave?”

“So persistent.” The dark human smiled, which only bothered Raviathan more. They both knew an unarmed elf against an armed human was no match. “What will you do?”

What was with this shem? “You can’t be this dense. What is your purpose here?”

“For now, my purpose is my own business.”

Considering how heavy the shem’s armor was and his age, Raviathan was sure he could out run the warrior. Pick a fight, then lure him out. Raviathan circled so his back was to the gate. “I said get out. You’ve no business here.”

The dark human’s smile never left. In fact, he seemed pleased. Did he come here to pick a fight? “I’m armed and armored. I refuse to leave. What will you do?”

Soris shifted from foot to foot, ready to bolt. Deciding to go for the unexpected, Raviathan surged forward, putting all the weight he could into shoving the shem. The push forced the human back a few paces, as much a show of strength as Raviathan was capable of. He danced back in case the shem went for his sword, and growled, “Bring it on, shem.”

Soris waved his hands, backing away. “Try not to die!” He ran, yelling over his shoulder, “I’ll get Valendrian.”

Raviathan expected anger, or at least indignation. The smile he was getting was only confusing him more. Was this shem laughing at him?

“What’s going on, Rav?” Three elves broke off from the crowd but kept a wary distance from the swordsman.

“Rav,” the human said, musing over the name. “You are Adaia’s son.”

Raviathan straightened in surprise. Fear chilled him. He cursed himself for giving away the truth. He should have controlled his reaction. Too late now. “You knew her?”

“You resemble her quite a bit, you know.”

Who was this man? Feeling trapped, Raviathan struggled against the fear that snaked up his spine. This man knew too much about him. Fallout from his mother’s legacy. In that moment, Raviathan wondered about his wife’s safety, the safety of his future children, his grandchildren.

When Raviathan remained silent, the warrior said, “Your mother trained you, did she not?”

Fear stabbed at Raviathan again. From his childhood, he remembered the crack of thin ice under his feet, how one misstep could suck him under the Drakon River, to be dragged into the black water, drowned, and out to a frozen sea. He felt that same fear now with this man. To say nothing would be an admission. To say the wrong thing would be a trap. This man knew his mother, knew what she was. Was he here for blackmail? But Raviathan didn’t have anything of value. To force him into service of some gang? Fear for Nesiara and his family rose. “No. She died before I learned anything.”

“Hey, Rav. You need some help getting rid of this shem?” The three elves walked up to stand behind Raviathan, four pairs of hostile, jewel bright eyes pinned on the human.

“I told you, shem,” Raviathan said. “You don’t belong here. Get out.”

“Duncan!” Valendrian’s jovial voice called out, breaking the tension that hung in the air. “How are you, old friend?”

“You know this shem?” one of the elves asked, mystified as their hahren shook hands with the warrior.

“Watch your language,” Valendrian admonished. “I will have no insults to my guest.”

The stunned elf gave Duncan a hasty bow in apology. Raviathan squeezed his friend’s shoulder in thanks before sending the three back to the festivities. Soris remained close, his hand comforting against Raviathan’s back.

“I apologize. Ser,” Raviathan said. “Had you said...”

“No. I take no offense,” Duncan said. “I kept you in ignorance.”

“Grooms.” Valendrian turned his attention to the two men. “You have wives and festivities to return to, and I must catch up with my old friend.”

Raviathan wondered at his hahren’s phrasing, but he nodded and took Soris’s hand.

“Cousin,” Soris whispered, “you really scare me sometimes.”

“Sorry. Those nobles got to me.”

“I’m glad we weren’t there. Rav...” Soris gripped his hand painfully hard. “I ... the nobles ... what if...”

Raviathan pulled his cousin aside where he wouldn’t be in full view of the other elves. “It’s alright, cousin,” he whispered, holding him tightly.

“Don’t scare me, Rav. Picking fights. I’m ... I’m already...”

“I’m sorry.” He glanced over and found that the shem was still watching him. Whatever momentary respite from his nerves Raviathan had gotten from the presence of his cousin disappeared. An old anger formed like embers in his chest. He ran his fingers gently through Soris’ hair and remembered back thirteen years ago when he’d held his cousin during the last purge. The screams and smell of burning elves. Ash, smoke, and elves—faintly like cedar.

“Rav?”

“Fine. I’m fine. We’ve got a few hours. Do you want to lie down?” Watching.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“Then let’s get some food to settle your stomach. How about that?” Still watching.

Unnerved, Raviathan led his cousin back the rest of their brethren. What reason could Valendrian have to tolerate this shem? “It’ll be alright, Soris.”

“Don’t know why we’re having the wedding today. Bad luck.”

“Well, maybe we got our bad luck for the day out of the way. It can only get better from here on, right?”

Soris nodded, his head bowed and eyes darting around the square. Raviathan understood all too well how his cousin felt. Trying to watch everything as if that would keep harm at bay. He’d seen Soris do that when he was tense or under attack. Raviathan brought his cousin a cup of wine, hoping it would calm him. If Soris didn’t start looking less green, he was definitely going to faint during the ceremony. Raviathan kept rubbing his cousin’s back and joked with the other elves. Gradually, Soris regained his color.