Vhenan Aravel
Chapter 16: Married Life - Blood on the Vhenadahl

Copyright© 2017 by eatenbydragons

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 16: Married Life - Blood on the Vhenadahl - Raviathan, a city elf with too many secrets and regrets, undergoes a long journey in order to find his way in the world. Part 1 is a Dragon Age Blight fic with many additions and twists to the original story. This story starts off on the fluffy side, but beware. Thar be dragons, and it will dip into darker territories. I'd rather overtag for potential triggers than undertag. Rape and prostitution occur rarely in the overall narrative, but they are present.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/Ma   Consensual   Magic   Rape   Reluctant   Romantic   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fan Fiction   High Fantasy   Interracial   Anal Sex   Analingus   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Prostitution  

Raviathan and the others moved quickly through the alleys and back streets. Nesiara and Valora helped Shianni walk, her arms around their shoulders as she limped along with her head down. At every pain filled step she took, Raviathan regretted he hadn’t saved the last elfroot potion for her.

Soris watched over the women as Raviathan took vanguard, distracting guards and shems, or rerouting their path as needed. He moved them as fast as he dared, his only thought to get back to the alienage. Valendrian would know what to do from there. Thankfully, there were no guards at the gates to the alienage. Word of the assault on the estate had probably not yet spread for the guards to organize against them, not with the fire.

“Come on,” said Raviathan in a voice he didn’t recognize. It was hard, stronger than he remembered. He was normally soft spoken, but now he sounded like Valendrian on a bad day. “The gates are clear. Let’s go.”

Catching up to him, Soris whispered as he glanced about, “What will we do, cousin? The house servants will surely tell the guards we’re responsible.” Most of the servants had run at the first hint of danger. Though the elven servants bore no love for Vaughan, it was only a matter of time before whispers spread or witnesses came forward. The city guard would come to the alienage. The real question was when. Would they have enough time to escape the city?

“Don’t worry about it,” Raviathan said, disturbed by the darkness in his own voice.

Soris glanced around again. “But...”

“Listen! The first thing is to get the women back.” Lips pursed, he said quietly, “We’ll probably have to leave Denerim. If the guards know we’re solely responsible, it might spare the rest of the alienage from a purge. I don’t know how far we’ll get, but if it saves the others ... We’ll have to hurry though.”

Soris paled at the thought. “Y-you mean ... we’ll be hunted?”

“Don’t think about it,” Raviathan whispered, hoping the others hadn’t heard. They wouldn’t be able to run for long, and the guards wouldn’t be kind. Their lives were forfeit. All they could do now was minimize the damage for the others. The shouts from inside the alienage became clear once they neared the gates. Voices buzzed in a low, angry hum as if someone had thrown a stone at a wasp’s nest. Most of the elves were gathered between the vhenadahl and stage. The festive decorations and lights appeared garish after all that had happened.

The vhenadahl, painted in unnatural red on white, burned Raviathan’s eyes. The alienage flattened before him. Sounds warped, images distorted to swirls of color. Only the vhenadahl, the heart of the alienage, stood real and terrible. Shianni, pale legs with a splatter of blood.

Spying them, Valendrian hurried forward, Duncan following with long easy strides. “You’ve returned.” A frown crossed Valendrian’s stern face as he reviewed the party. “But where is Toulime’s daughter, Nola?”

Though she had stayed strong for most of the journey, Valora’s squeaky voice was full of tears when she piped up. “She ... she didn’t make it.”

“They killed her,” Raviathan said in that same strange voice that wasn’t his.

“What happened?” Valendrian asked, the lines in his face deepening.

The women led Shianni to her home, trying to cover her from the angry crowd as best they could. Valendrian watched her limp away. Raviathan said, “Vaughan and his guards are dead. The guards...” He couldn’t look at Valendrian. Shock and rage were still running their course, making the world seem flat and unreal.

Looking shamefaced at his hahren, Soris added, “Rav thinks we should go before the city guards get here.”

“Ugh,” Valendrian sighed. “That it had come to this. I don’t know what I can do for you.”

“This might be the only way to keep from implicating the whole alienage,” Raviathan said. “If so, it’s better you don’t help us. Say we did this against the will of everyone here. We had better hurry. The guards will start combing the city and gates, but there might be a way for us to get out by the docks.” He unfastened the borrowed long sword and held it to Duncan. “Thank you for the use of the sword.”

“Maybe you should ditch the armor too.” Soris’ voice was muffled as he pulled off his chainmail shirt. “We’ll blend in better if you don’t have it on.”

Duncan had opened his mouth to say something, but the four turned at the sound of marching and clink of armor. Raviathan’s heart pounded. For the third time this day, shems invaded his home. Resolution settled into Raviathan’s eyes as he turned towards the oncoming guards with his shoulders squared and chin lifted defiantly. “Run, Soris,” he said. “Hide in one of the buildings.” The other elf hesitated, looking at his cousin, but at Raviathan’s hard glare, he ran into the crowd and disappeared.

The guard captain, a fit if older man with a white goatee, led a procession of official city guards. His gaze settled on Valendrian and Raviathan immediately, though he sent a curious glance at Duncan. “Elder. We’ve respected your role here. Do not tarnish it by trying to hide the culprits, for there will be no tolerance this time. A wash of blood covers what remains of Arl of Denerim’s estate. Who are the culprits?”

“I am,” Raviathan said firmly before the guard could continue.

“Who else?”

“Just me.” Raviathan’s hard gaze met the captain’s. He was still shaking in rage as he stepped forward.

The captain sneered down at him. “You expect me to believe that an entire estate’s worth of guards and three trained lords were taken out by one elf?”

Valendrian placed a hand on Raviathan’s shoulder before the young man could react in blind fury. He was calm as he addressed the guards who towered over them. “We are not all helpless. Captain.”

One of the guards snorted, and Raviathan’s steely gaze went to him. The captain recognized the look, how the elf’s grip on the sword tightened for a moment. If the young elf resisted, they would kill him. It was as simple as that. The main problem would be the city’s unstated need to see the elf hanged publicly, and tensions would flare for months if the people’s need for blood was denied.

A hanging for a lone elf probably wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the mobs that would form. He’d have to be tortured publicly, perhaps for weeks. Such acts had not been performed since the Orlesian occupation, and Ferelden was well to be rid of them, but this was a rather extraordinary case. Vaughan had a strong following, nobles and guards who saw him as a forceful leader, a promise that the city would prosper when he became Arl. A public torture of the elf might be the only way to save the alienage from a purge. Those city guards loyal to Vaughan and the Kendells family would not be kind if a purge was ordered.

There was no hope for the boy, but true as that was, cornered men fought the hardest. Whatever the elf had done, he wasn’t a novice, and the captain was sure there would be more than one casualty on his side if this wasn’t handled well. He faced the lad, understanding that the elf knew what was coming and had sacrificed himself. He looked at the beautiful face and could almost see the damage that would be done to it in the coming weeks. The torturers would break him in every way imaginable. Such a pity. He wished more of his guards had the kind of nerve this elf showed. “I commend you for your courage though I do not envy your fate. Surrender your weapons and come with us.”

With a bitter sigh, Valendrian squeezed Raviathan’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do for your trial. Perhaps I can persuade Mother Boann to testify on your behalf.”

The guard who had snorted smirked at the old elf. “You think he’s going to get a trial? Even if he does get one, I doubt there’ll be much left of that pretty face by the time it comes about.”

“That’s enough,” the captain said, glaring the guard down. Idiot. He was trying to avoid bloodshed. Last thing he needed was to panic the elf. The guards would react, the alienage would react, and then they would have no choice but an immediate purge.

“Ah, captain,” Duncan said and all turned to him. “I am Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens.”

The captain scowled at the unexpected interruption. “You would be Duncan then.”

“Yes, and I am invoking the Right of Conscription.” Raviathan frowned in puzzlement, and Valendrian’s breath caught in a mixture of hope and regret.

“The right...” the captain stammered, “you can’t. He broke the law.”

“That does not matter,” Duncan said, injecting more authority in his voice. “The Right of Conscription can be used in lieu of the gallows if necessary, and that is especially true during a blight.”

The words ‘a blight’ rippled through the guards. The few elves still standing to watch the exchange gasped. Some ran off to spread word. One guard whispered loud enough for the rest to hear, “So it’s true. It isn’t just a large darkspawn raid.”

Multiple voices whispered, “Maker save the King.”

The captain swore as thoughts of how the city would react floated through his head. The Warden-Commander may have just saved the elven boy, but he doomed the alienage. The outrage from the city would be immediate, enough that even though actions against the Grey Wardens were unthinkable during a blight, conscription might not be enough to ensure the boy’s safety. He fixed Duncan with a look that he hoped conveyed the seriousness of the situation.

“Get him out of the city. Today. Sooner the better.” The captain turned then to the guards. “Men. If any ask, you are to say the elves responsible were killed for resisting. Any rumors that get started won’t be hard to trace back. The Wardens have the King’s favor, and any sedition during a blight will not be dealt with leniency.” That was the best he could do for the Wardens, but he doubted the men would keep their silence without a demonstration this evening. Days like this made him count the months to his retirement. “Fall out.”

The guards left with dark looks and a few grumblings, but they were trained well enough not to speak too loudly. Raviathan slumped, and Valendrian wrapped his arms around the young elf and pressed his face against the back of Raviathan’s neck. “Oh my boy. You have no idea what they were going to do to you.”

Raviathan had seen it in the city guards’ faces. There was a hard hate that many shems had when they saw an elf, but this was beyond anything Raviathan had experienced. They had wanted to see him broken. Not just humiliated or hurt. Broken. Those were the same ugly looks the guards at the estate had when they laughed around Nola’s still warm body. It was a final insult that she couldn’t even scream as her body was exposed and violated. The young elf started shaking in what Duncan recognized as reaction now that the main crisis was over. A trembling hand rested on the hahren’s arm, and Valendrian gave Raviathan a final squeeze before releasing him.

Caught between rage, fear, and distrust, Raviathan returned Duncan’s sword without looking at him. “Hahren, once I’m out of the city, Ness and I will have to run. Can you tell her...”

“I’m sorry, Rav.” Valendrian clasped a hand against Raviathan’s neck. “You have to go with Duncan.”

Raviathan’s brows knit. He glanced at Duncan, bitter hate in his eyes, then turned back to Valendrian. “Hahren,” he whispered. “I’m not going with that shem.”

“You listen, young man. I trust Duncan with my life. And you will fulfill your obligation.”

“Say your goodbyes, but be quick about it,” Duncan replied. “We need to leave as soon as possible.”

“But,” stricken, Raviathan looked to his hahren, “Ness. I can’t leave her.”

“Rav,” Valendrian said, “you have no choice.”

“No. I can run. The guards won’t know. She ... Valendrian, please...”

“Stop!” Valendrian squeezed Raviathan’s arms, his grip painful through the armor. The hahren had a sickly pallor, his age showing clear in the midday sun. “This is a blight. Blights destroy entire nations. We will all be killed if it isn’t stopped. Your father, your cousins. Ness. Myself. Everyone in this alienage. Thousands of others. Rav, this is bigger than any of us. You have been chosen. We need you. All of us.”

When Raviathan looked out over the crowd of faces, men and women who had been celebrating his marriage only hours ago, he saw rage and sorrow. News was spreading rapidly through the crowd, and the multitude of voices that had hushed in fear of the guards rose. A few left muttering that there would be a purge for sure and the wise would leave immediately. Elva’s shrill voice complained to any who would listen that the whole alienage had been compromised to save a few, a decision had damned them all. Some of the elves agreed, their grumblings added to the snatches of news and worries.

Salia, at whose wedding he had played music and danced, came up to hug him. She whispered, “Maker bless you, Rav. What you did, you did for all of us. Some of us will always remember that.”

He sniffed and hugged her back. “Thank you. Take care of yourself.”

Sorrow and rage. It was their day of celebration. He was married to an amazing woman, one who was going to fill the rest of his days with love, family, and companionship as he would have done for her. The whole alienage, family and friends, neighbors and rivals, had set aside grievances to give them this one day that would be special. This was to be a holy day for them, one that would unite them for the rest of their lives. The crowd parted when he walked through the square. The fragility of their lives was revealed in one harsh blow. Any of them could be taken, and there was no defense. Only rage and sorrow.

He entered Alarith’s store not sure if it would be for the last time. “Hey youngin’. So you’re off then.”

“Yeah.” Raviathan swallowed. The shop was thankfully empty. “I’m going to be a Grey Warden.” He looked about the shop as if seeing the familiar shelves and goods could steady his life. He had known when he took Duncan’s sword that nothing would be the same. Had known that the minute the shems invaded the little corner of homeland his kind had in the city.

Alarith nodded slowly as if it had been inevitable. “They’re lucky to have you.”

Raviathan shrugged to lighten the mood, though sorrow remained in his eyes. “Better than working at the docks then. Glad you approve.”

Alarith came around the counter and hugged him. It was an uncharacteristic display from the Tevinter elf, but then, they had almost been family once. “This place is going to be a lot quieter without you.” Raviathan returned the hug, resting his chin on Alarith’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Raviathan ended the hug. “Take care.”

Alarith squeezed his shoulder. “You were always meant for better than this place.”

Raviathan smiled sadly at his almost uncle. Almost family. He kissed Alarith’s cheek then left the little shop and its familiar organized chaos and scents. The cold outside was hard as the bitter southern wind snaked through his clothes to bite his skin. All the elves were still in a buzz, crowding in the street. He started off for Shianni’s apartment. It seemed harder to walk now as if he were wading through water. The whole alienage drifted in unreality.

“Rav?”

He looked down to see the face of a young boy who had been one of his first deliveries without Solyn. Even as an infant, the boy had jade green eyes that were far too old to be a child’s. “Hey Justen.” He knelt down to the boy’s height. Everything seemed so distant and flatter somehow. Even the noise and movement from the square felt like it came from behind a bubble.

 
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