"Do not let anger and hatred cause you pain and anguish down the road. Daughter," Beatrice turned to her boy who was glaring at nothing, "Son... He is showing repentance. Mercy is not always weak."
Rosie's eyes closed as she sucked in a breath while weighing her mother's words. Condemning her secret father to death was a bit of a big step, really. Still, he was a rat bastard who had it coming. "Brother Cordell, I hereby banish you from Ferelden's borders. If you ever step foot upon a single grain of Ferelden soil your life is forfeit immediately."
"Rose?" he tipped his head up to her with tears glistening in his eyes. "Cailan," he added towards the prince, but Cailan turned away wanting nothing to do with him.
"Take him away, put him on a ship and get him as far from my sight as possible."
"Yes, your Majesty," the guards bowed. Both lifted Cordell up by his armpits and walked the man out of the hall.
Her sister looked flushed and flustered at her pronouncement, her cheeks bright red next to the icy pallor of the rest of her face. But a hand from their father on her back, and what looked like a smile of reassurance from her girlfriend were enough to sooth the aching princess. Was it the right call? Who the hell knew. He might try again, could make shit even more of a pain in the ass in the future.
But that was what swords were for. Messed up in the past? Stab it away in the present. Didn't fully fix things, but it helped.
Myra shifted on her feet, wanting to leap up and dash off for the food. Her stomach was already rolling around in agony begging for anything approaching tasty. She glanced up at her Dad who was smiling.
"Well," the King announced, "with all the unpleasantness out of the way, let us come to the reward section of this matter."
A few groans broke through the crowd, no doubt the rest either as peckish as Myra or wanting to get to the hangings for their bloodsport, but Alistair ignored them all. "Ser Daryan," he began, his smile flattening a bit but remaining in place.
The Knight slid off her bench and took a knee right before the King. "My liege," she said.
"For leading the attack against the mercenary band that were trying to off me, I award you the Silverite Shield," he reached behind him to unearth an actual shield. The light shifted over it like water. While it passed from king to knight, it appeared as if a continual waterfall danced down the oval shaped metal.
Myra pursed her lips, well aware of just how much help the Knight was in the scheme of things, but they needed someone to pin it all on. His bastard daughter, his elven lover, the Hero of Ferelden, and her husband wouldn't play as well in the streets. So it all got to fall in Daryan's lap. Lucky her.
She nodded her head as if she'd done a great service by keeping a few scraggly squires in order. Slotting the shield over her arm Daryan stood up and fell into line beside the throne. Her eyes sparkled in pride at her accomplishment. The shield was not one given lightly, it'd reflect well in whatever she got up to as they tried to jab her towards quietly retiring to the country. Daryan didn't know it yet, but there was a small, dark force who had the King's ear that wanted her gone, and she wasn't easily cowed by anything.
"Squire," Daryan tipped her head towards Gavin who'd been about the only person fully attentive through the entire thing. He snapped to his feet and saluted almost instinctively. It was so large, a few in the audience snickered at the boy's enthusiasm. "Fall into line," she ordered and Gavin moved to obey.
"Ah," the King interrupted, "one more thing. Squire Gavin?"
He turned away from his Knight towards the man on the throne. "Yes?" poor Gavin squeaked before dragging his voice down, "your majesty?"
"Take a knee before me," Alistair waved, unable to shake off the smile.
"Right!" The boy flew through the air to dive down deep. He lay his entire chest upon the propped up knee, head bent low as if Gavin feared he had to beg for mercy.
"Squire Gavin Rutherford..." Her dad moved his lips but gave no sound for the other part of the name he wasn't supposed to use. It was doubtful anyone in the audience caught it, but Myra whipped her head over to see the Hero and Commander both glaring a moment.
"For service to not only the crown, or the throne, or my fat arse that sits upon it, but in protecting my children with your life and taking the initiative to do what was right..." the King gripped onto the golden sword of Ferelden on his side and unsheathed it.
Myra clasped her hands to her mouth, barely able to hide the squeal of surprise while her father dangled the blade's edge just above Gavin's bent head.
"I award you a Knighthood." Alistair moved to dip the point to Gavin's shoulder, but the boy coughed.
"Um, Sire," he tipped his head up and stared eye to eye with the King while a sword tip bobbed in the way. "If I may, I am grateful for all you have to offer but..." His words fell to silence as he realized he was talking back to the King.
Alistair tugged the sword away and jammed it into the ground. Leaning upon the blade as if it were a cane, he snickered, "Go ahead. You've got me curious now."
"I don't think I'm ready for a full Knighthood yet. It's just..." Gavin sucked in a breath as he must have realized every damn person in the grand hall went deathly silent. Refusing a gift from a King? Unheard of! Insanity! Who does such a thing?
"What's he doing?" Reiss hissed beside her.
He could have been the youngest person ever knighted in Ferelden. Most weren't even looked at until they were at least twenty, but there was Gavin passing it up because...
"He's not ready," Myra shrugged, perhaps the only person in the entire room unsurprised by that choice. Her eyes darted over to his parents to find both with stupid smiles on. Okay, the third person.
"You wish to remain a squire?" the King spoke up, aware that his subject fell silent with anxiety.
"Yes, I feel I have much left to learn. To understand. To prepare for before I am ready for such demands and expectations."
"Let's see, you stopped an assassin, stopped some bandits, helped stop the darkspawn, something with the dwarves that's so big we're still sorting it out, and then saved my sorry hide. But you still don't think you're worthy?"
The poor boy licked his lips and dug both dangling hands into his ankle to steady himself. "No, Ser," he looked up into the King's eyes, "I don't."
"All right," Alistair shrugged as he sheathed the knighting blade.
"That's..." Gavin blinked in shock, "that's okay?"
"Sure," the King reached a hand out and helped Gavin rise to unsteady feet. "You can stay in service to Ser Daryan here, though I bet Rosie's got work for you and I should warn you she's a real terror as a boss."
"Dad!"
"See," he chuckled and tipped a head towards his eldest who no doubt already had plans on what to do with the only man the dwarves would accept into their circles. Patting into Gavin's back, Alistair smiled, "When you're ready, when you want it, that Knighthood's yours. Just say the word."
"Th..." Gavin turned to look out at the assemblage. Myra spun in her seat to follow suit. There was a split between people who were snarling at such disrespect, while others seemed to be ready to applaud a surprising maturity in such a young man. His eyes landed upon his parents. The Commander smiled serenely as he tipped his head to the boy, while his mother was waving a giant double thumbs up in the air.
When Myra turned away from the same inspection, she found she fell right into his amber eyes. The dorky smile that'd haunted her dreams since she was thirteen lifted on his lips and she returned it.
"Thank you, Sire," Gavin said and stepped to stand beside Ser Daryan.
"Well..." the King slapped together his hands. "If that's all?" he turned first to the bailiff, then Karelle. Both didn't rush in to plop more work into his lap so he smiled. "Let's eat! I am starving after this mess. Please tell me we have more cheese?"
"Yes, your Majesty," Karelle sighed but there was a smile at the end.
The King and his entourage all rose and walked down the aisles to begin a small parade towards
the feasting tables. Perhaps that's where Bryn was, setting up things for all of the court to consume. Myra could flag her down...she should at least come for the funerals. Even if her supervisor could be a real witch about it.
Cailan picked up his mother's hand and helped her to rise. She kept patting it and tried to get Rosie to go with, but her sister was busy speaking fast with one of the advisors. Whatever vitally important business of Ferelden they were spewing, she still took the time to glance over at Anjali and give a smile. The assassin returned it with a kiss, and Rosie -- even with...okay most of the court was already shuffling out to get food, but a few could be watching. She cupped her hands in the air to snag the blown affection tight to her heart.
Beside the Knight he agreed to shackle himself too, Gavin trailed after the King. No doubt, Ser Daryan would make him stand around while the rest ate just because. Which was when Myra could sneak a few treats into his pockets. She already knew how to break into her father's secret cheese room. As he walked down the aisle, his head held high, he turned towards Myra. Their foolish eyes locked a moment, a brief beat in the grand scheme of things, but she felt herself falling into it. Amber and meadow, didn't sound like a terrible scent all things considered. She shifted, wanting to trail after to wish him luck or just say anything, when her mother grabbed onto her shoulder.
"My? Are you listening?"
"Huh? What?" Myra turned to Reiss who had her hands crossed. "What'd I miss now?"
"Your schooling. We need to arrange transport, and get in contact with..." While Reiss droned on about all that was necessary for Myra to step through the College gates and learn real magic, she kept turning her head back to watch Gavin. When her past vanished into the crowd, she turned back to focus on the future.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Friends
Gavin paced about the memorial doing his best to not fidget. The new collar on the breastplate cut a bit too tight to his neck but there wasn't much time to try and fix it. By noon's light his mother appeared to be squinting against the sun bounding into the onyx statue's eyes. He'd find it a bit humorous if it didn't seem like something that would make both his parents purse their lips and change the subject.
In order to keep from clicking his nails or jostle the recently sharpened sword at his side, he untucked the letter. All it said was "Meet me at the Memorial, noon tomorrow." Found laying upon his pillow in the squire's living quarters he was a bit baffled but curious and willingly wandered off. He wasn't ditching his duties, though the spark of curiosity would have pushed him to do it either way.
A month and a half had passed since the treason incident. There was some fancy term for it the criers were passing about, but he couldn't remember it. Something about Love's Bloody Curse. It sounded graphic either way and not the sort of thing one should shout in front of children. He'd fallen back under the orders of Ser Daryan who, upon speaking to him after the sentencing only said, "Huh, so I can't even get rid of you with a promotion." That was all. No wondering why he'd do it, or even thanking him for standing by her side. Though Gavin would fear he'd be at the mercy of some demon posing as her should Daryan ever say as such to him.
His parents left a few days after that, once his mother was certain the King would make a full recovery. She'd kissed him on the cheek and wished him luck while his father ran into a starstruck Lambert.
"Are you him?" the squire gasped amazed while gazing up at the man buried in luggage.
"Him who?" Cullen began before turning to the boy and sighing. "Yes, I am him."
Most of the squires seemed shocked that the son of the Commander would in fact have the Commander as his father. Like it was all a lovely theory until the man actually showed up on their doorstep and ordered them around a bit. Cullen tried to walk through the barracks to see where Gavin slept but became mobbed by all the squires who were burning with questions.
Lambert stepped closer, his fingers shaking, "Could you sign this for me?"
"Why not," his father sighed while plucking up the parchment. When he turned it over, Cullen groaned, "It's the blighted sketch, of course it is. I shall be hounded by this until my pyre." But he dashed his signature on it and handed it back to Lambert before saying goodbye to Gavin.
He'd already received two more letters from his parents since that day. They too didn't ask why he never took the knighthood, something he wanted since he was five and tried to heft up his father's longsword. With golden bear helmet spinning on his tiny head, the blade barely made it a foot off the floor before falling back down. The squires wondered, loudly. Why come back to a life of shoveling shit and taking it from the Knights when he could be doling it out himself?
It was a good question. Maybe he could think of a better answer beyond it didn't feel right. One thing he promised to himself, if it didn't feel right he didn't wish to do it. So he wouldn't. Even if...
The dipping sun landed upon the parcel he just finished the night before. Deep into the candle, with the other squires shouting for him to put the light out, he added the last bit and bundled it all up in a bit of paper. He didn't know who sent him the note, but he had a pretty good idea.
Gavin was turned away from the entrance, trying to read through some of his mother's old letters when she was an Arlessa to not appear eager when the door opened. Light seared across the cool entrance, an angel's silhouette blotting it away.
While he wiped away the burn from the sun, she stepped forward and loudly dropped a bag on the floor. "Maker's breath, you're still here!" Myra wrung her hands out as if they required a good wash.
"I am," he stated the obvious while trying to hide away a silly little smile at her.
"That took for-ev-er! Mom kept on telling me what I should do, what I shouldn't do, what I should eat, what I..."
"Shouldn't eat?" Gavin threw out causing her to pause and laugh.
"And Dad. I mean, I knew he could blubber with the best of 'em but it was near constant waterworks. I'm not leaving Ferelden or taking to the sea to become a pirate. Stop being so dramatic," she slapped a hand to her thigh and dented the traveling coat he noticed was the same soft yellow as her mother's.
Silence fell between them, Gavin glancing over at the girl who left a note on his pillow while she seemed to be wringing her hands through the air. Her tongue kept lapping over her lips, weighing the words in her heart. "So," he began, unable to take the pressing tension, "you wanted to meet with me?"
"Yes!" Myra gasped, "Sorry, just... I know things have been crazy busy with me, and you. Wait, is that new? You are super shiny."
He laughed at her sticking her tongue out at the breastplate to try and see herself in it. "It is. I'm to head out to the dwarven kingdom soon and..."
"And Rosie thought you needed new pants, got it. How's she been? Super pain I bet."
"Your sister is, she's rather amenable to any suggestions I may have."
Myra blinked a moment and stuck a hand on her hip. "Really? That's the first I've ever heard. But I'm glad Rosie's being a bit less tyrant now that she's getting some." His cheeks lit up at the mere concept of anyone around him having intimate relations, Gavin trying to dig a finger into the tight neckline to give himself breathing space.
"What about you?" Myra continued. "You ready to go play ambassador for a bit?"
He closed his eyes tight and sighed. "I don't know. Ser Daryan is technically in charge." Myra snorted at her name and wrinkled her nose. She did that when anyone mentioned the Knight now. Her attending wasn't what was weighing most upon Gavin though. "And..." he waffled on his feet, "Cal is coming as well."
"What the shit for?"
"The various nobles think the fact he is himself one means he'll be able to converse with the dwarves better than a commoner such as myself." He managed to say the entire sentence without sneering, which was rather amazing.
"Right, commoner. They're shitting their pants scared that you'll walk all over 'em and steal their thunder. Which you should, by the way. Daryan and Cal, the three
of you all the way out to Dwarflandia? And I thought a week of walking behind a flatulent druffalo was a curse."
He was going to miss this, which was probably why they hadn't spoken much since she told him her plans. Even after their romance imploded by his choice, Myra was there. More there than anyone else had been there in ways he could scarcely comprehend at times. But she had her dreams and he had his, even if they did involve Cal sharing a tent with him.
"Well," Myra scampered forward and patted Gavin on the shoulder, "I have faith in you. Also that dwarven queen blighted loves you."
"What?" he blinked in confusion. The Queen had been cordial, but as cold to him as anyone else that was human.
Myra smiled, "Oh yeah. Pretty sure she wants to adopt you. But don't let Rosie make you, even if she'll get something shiny out of the deal."
"I won't," Gavin nodded, the trepidation he felt about this trip and how easily he could fail Ferelden breaking apart. Somehow Myra made the unassailable mountain seem like a grassy hill.
"Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say goodbye to you before I left," she flinched at the end as if she didn't really want to, but he knew she did. She'd been ecstatic about the spells she could learn, the courses the college promised, and some stuffy old elven professor who promised to show her the ropes special. It was the leaving part that stung.
"You'll love it. Mom says she remembers some of your professors a bit. One is really nice and the other is rather surly."
"Which is which?" Myra asked.
"I..." Gavin paled as his eyes darted around, "I can't remember."
"I'll just ask who can tell no lies and who can tell no truth. That'll solve it right quick," she laughed so strongly she was brighter than the sun. He was going to miss her no matter what.
"When are you leaving?" he asked, trying to focus on the here and now.
"Technically, I already left," Myra squinted up her face and jabbed a finger towards the door.
My Love Page 359
