Feast

[aestrix]

It is a special day, in the city of Orzammar. For one man, especially. It is a day of celebration for the second son of King Endrin Aeducan. Despite his physical... issues, he's been made Orzammar's newest commander. Tomorrow, there will be quite a lot of bloodshed. But tonight is for Stalas Aeducan. Not only is there a feast in his honor, but Provings, as well. It's his day, one of honor, but also his formal presentation to the heads of houses.

The merchants have even been allowed into the Diamond Quarter, a rare treat they only see on special occasions. They're probably regretting it, by now, after trying to talk to some of the dwarven nobles and tackle their very particular brand of pride, but it's a chance to win over the highest class, instead of hoping they deign to notice the Merchant Caste.

Regardless, today is certainly a day to remember. Possibly for the wrong reasons.

Comments

[aestrix]

It seems someone is already in a conversation with his father.

"My king, please reconsider. The trade contracts alone could bring great prosperity to our houses," says one foreign-looking dwarf.

His companion adds, "Will we really turn our back on our brothers and a potential force of cheap labor because of a political technicality?"

The king's eyes narrow. "Denial of the traditions of our people does not qualify as a political technicality! There is more to life them monetary gains, my lords Bemot and Meino. The assembly of Kal Sharok will respect the rule of Orzammar, or they will rot and die alone, surrounded by enemies."

"Yes, my king," sights lord Meino.

Stalas's father spots his son and smiles. "But look, we have company to spare us further wrangling. Atrast vala, my son. How fine you look in your grandfather's armor."

[thisvorlunatic]

He's sure he looks like an earthworm playing dressup, but he smiles anyway.

"Thank you, Father."

[aestrix]

"And I hear," says his father, looking amused, "that you were declared champion of the Provings. I suppose you were never one to sit by when something exciting was going on."

[thisvorlunatic]

"You know me," he agrees. "But I felt it would be discourteous to claim the prize myself. I'm being given enough today already."

[aestrix]

The king nods. "Honorable of you. Are you ready to be presented to the heads of noble houses?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes."

[aestrix]

"Very well, let us begin." He raises his voice to address the entire room. "Lords, ladies! Grant me a moment of your time. I introduce to you my second son, Stalas Aeducan! Prospect to be the newest commander of Orzammar. Would any of you like to pose a question to know the prospect better?"

"I, your highness. I would like to know the prospect better," says a lord.

"Lord Dace, head of House Dace, speak."

"Lords, ladies, my question concerns the plight of our wayward kin, the so-called surface caste. What does the commander prospect think is the correct place for these lost souls?" asks lord Dace.

[thisvorlunatic]

"I don't know, Lord Dace," Stalas says with a smile. "I haven't given extensive thought to that particular issue. It seems to me that a little time spent under a ceiling of air is a small thing for a dwarf's fate to turn on. We allow the brave warriors who guard our gates to leave and return without forfeiting their caste, and we have sent forces in the past to aid our honourable friends, the Grey Wardens, without exiling the troops or their commanders. Who's to say that a merchant venture, for example, should not be similarly permissible? After all, we depend on trade with the surface to bring us some of our finest food and clothing. But the ancestors made this rule, and I must assume they had a good reason, even if I don't yet know what it is. Perhaps after tomorrow's battle I'll consult the Shaperate to find out more, and return to you with a better-founded opinion."

[aestrix]

Lord Dace recovers very well, for someone who's had the proverbial rug pulled out from under him. It is not particularly hard to find out about the failed merchant venture that he helped fund, but he's surprised that Stalas is even aware of it at all.

"Thank you, my lord. I am satisfied in my knowledge of the prospect," says Lord Dace.

"Are there any other challenges?" asks the king. Silence. "Then I give you Orzammar's newest commander!"

This is followed by cheering.

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas does like cheering.

He also likes showing off, and that was a great opportunity to show off. No firm statements that might offend anyone, but a genuine acknowledgment of both sides of the issue and the limits of his own knowledge, and a subtle reference to Lord Dace's ulterior motives that will sound completely innocuous to anyone who doesn't already know about them.

[aestrix]

"Tomorrow," says the king, "our newest commander will lead part of a mission to strike a great blow against the darkspawn. But for today, we will feast, drink, and celebrate! The morning brings battle!"

And now Stalas is free to mingle. Or not, that's up to him.

[thisvorlunatic]

Duty requires him to partake of some feasting, although he avoids the drinking part.

As soon as possible, though, he gets up and prepares to make his escape. The sooner he gets back to his rooms, the sooner he can get out of this tin turd.

[aestrix]

"Stalas!" calls his father, as he leaves. "Since you're departing - find your brother Trian and send him to me."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes, Father," he says obediently, concealing a sigh of regret. He certainly can't go talk to Trian wearing improper attire for the occasion.

And where is Trian, anyway? Not at the feast. Neither is Bhelen. Maybe they're in their rooms...? He checks there first.

[aestrix]

Bhelen's room is empty (even of Rica) but Trian's room is not; with Stalas's entry, it now contains all of the sons of King Endrin.

Trian looks at Stalas and says, "So you are a commander now. In name, at least. Shouldn't you be attending our king father?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"He sent me to find you, in fact. Wants to talk to you. Didn't say why."

[aestrix]

"Of course he does. We must discuss strategy before tomorrow's battle." He looks at Bhelen. "Bhelen, stay here and stroke the new commander's conceit, if you like, but after that, get to bed."

And then he turns and leaves without even a goodbye.

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas vents a frustrated sigh once his older brother is out of earshot.

[aestrix]

"All day, I've been putting up with him," sighs Bhelen. "He can really grate on the nerves."

[thisvorlunatic]

"You have my deepest sympathies, brother." He shakes his head. "Have you ever thought about asking Father to make you his heir? Trian would throw a tantrum fit to shake the mountains, but you'd make a better king than he would." He pauses, then amends, "All right, a drunken nug would make a better king than he would, but you know what I mean."

[aestrix]

That genuinely catches Bhelen by surprise.

"I've thought about it," he admits. "But I'm not sure father would favor me."

[thisvorlunatic]

"I'd back you," he says cheerfully. "Sure beats trying to do it myself. I know Father likes me and all, but the deshyrs would shit themselves, and if he got it past them somehow I'd have to rule Orzammar someday, which sounds difficult and time-consuming and frequently dull. I'd rather be a prince than a king."

[aestrix]

Bhelen does not know how to handle this.

He's lying. He has to be lying. There is absolutely no one, ever, that would rather be a prince than a king. What do princes do? Nothing, they fight and kill each other and scheme and fail to have any real power. A king, though? A king changes things. Stalas must be lying to him, playing to his ego, pretending to be the good brother. Just like Bhelen's doing with him.

(But what if he's telling the truth? asks a voice in his head. Well, it's too late to call off the mercenaries, isn't it, and Trian's a walking dead man anyway, there isn't anyone else to pin it on...)

"I'm - surprised, at you, brother. But thank you. I'm honored by your faith in me."

[thisvorlunatic]

"I'll have it inscribed on a plaque. 'Bhelen Aeducan would make a better king than a drunken nug'," he jokes, with a sweeping gesture to indicate the prospective size of this plaque. "You could hang it up in your rooms as a reminder that at least one of your brothers appreciates you."

[aestrix]

Bhelen laughs, a little, in spite of himself.

"Trian might take offense, to that, I think."