Work Text:
Begin with the End
10:30 Restoration
Cedric woke to the sound of music drifting in through the open panes of the window. Laughter, shouting, musical instruments, curses and giggles, all the sounds of a tavern full of happy and drunk customers. There were sometimes downsides to living down the street from a common tavern, but not that he would ever admit to anyone, Cedric secretly enjoyed the happy sounds that sometimes wafted his way. Thankfully without wafting the smell of alcohol and vomit that could very well accompany it.
Cedric would not trade this house for anything less than a palace, and Val Royeaux had plenty of those to aim for. His district was just close enough to the high quarters to ensure that he never could be attributed with such insults as common or low while at court. While at the same time being close enough to the actual common and low areas that his popularity with the people could be more easily cultivated. A useful card to play in the Game.
Cedric was about to roll over onto his side to try and get back sleep, when he realised he could not move.
Not an arm, leg, finger or toe. He could not move his neck, his back was unresponsive and not a sound could he utter. He could still breathe, and he could feel his breath and heart speeding up in panic. Blinking also was possible and as if to compensate for lack of moment elsewhere he started to blink as if he was desperate to get grit out of his eye.
“Ah you wake, can you hear that, I swear they are singing Andraste’s Mabari down the street, if you gave me 50 guesses I would never guess that one to be sung in a tavern in Val Royeaux.”
Terror fought panic while he desperately tried to make any sound even a grunt. But he knew it was hopeless, he had bodyguards sequestered in neighbouring rooms but if he could not alert them they would do him no good. A mage the only explanation, he did not feel sick and surely a poison would have affected his ability to breathe as well as paralysing his body. I tiny traitorous thought struck him that he had come to this conclusion very quickly, if only he had been this good at analysing a situation last week at Comtess Javigne’s luncheon. He tamped down that thought quickly, that sort of observation would not help him here.
“I suppose that after the betrothal of Prince Brandon of Ferelden to Princess Dion of Orlais, a Ferelden tavern song would be more acceptable within the empire than previously. It really is amazing how long prejudice can survive in the minds of the masses, and trust me I speak from experience.”
Cedric felt his head moving smoothly around until it fixed on the figure seated at his writing desk, one foot lazily resting on his favourite footstool. The figure was tall and broad, the build of an athletic and reasonably strong man in his late forties maybe fifties. Short salt and pepper hair and in the shadows the face was unremarkable save for the piercing grey eyes that seemed to shine in the reflected moonlight. The accent was close to Ferelden however it sounded like it had been coloured from plenty of time abroad. However it was what the man was wearing that inspired terror and understanding both in Cedric’s mind.
The armour was Silverite plate, well made and designed not to restrict movement while still providing excellent protection. The design was smooth and elegant, contrasting at the elbow, knuckles, knee and toe where small spikes glinted. The mail appearing at gaps was coloured silver and blue, and leaving no doubt of the affiliation of the wearer the double griffons of the Grey Wardens was moulded across the front of the chest peace.
This was bad, this was oh so very bad. This Wardens must know, there could be no other reason for this man to come, no other reason for trapping him like this in the dead of night.
“I trust you are not going to waste both of our time with either indignant posturing or pleas of ignorance? You can move your neck now by the way, please nod or shake.”
Cedric vigorously shook his head, taking the opportunity to look around the room. Nothing seemed out of place and he confirmed that this Warden was the only other in the room.
“Good lad. Now I would think it is obvious why I am here?” The Warden paused for a few seconds, “I am looking for a response to that question Baron.”
Cedric thought furiously. Could he deny it? Could he get away with denying it? Could he pass the blame onto someone else? And most importantly how could he do this when his only possible response would be a nod or shake of the head?
Cedric nodded.
“Good, I was worried that you might go back on your word about not pleading ignorance. Not that I literally had your word on it so to speak. Ha.”
The laugh was a bark, loud and definitely could not be mistaken for his own voice. Please let the guards have heard it.
“Now just to be sure that we are on the same page, you and I are alone in this room, I am a mage, and you are paralyzed in whatever extent I deem necessary. That window may allow sound and fresh air in, however, not a sound can escape the blanket I have placed over this room. I am going to release your voice now, and I want you to scream for help from your guards in the neighbouring rooms. Please understand this is no gloating on my part, I just wish your undivided attention and I don’t want you distracted by thoughts that your guards are going to storm in at the last minute like some Tethras Tale.”
Cedric felt as if a hand which he had not noticed had just been removed from around his neck. Now what to say? If the Warden was being serious then there was no point shouting something that would antagonise him, but he still had to try. “Derrick! Michelle! Please come in here! Now! Please!”
Cedric felt the invisible hand around his throat again. The Warden had raised an eyebrow and from a curve at the corner of his mouth he seemed amused. “How very… polite.”
With each word Cedric felt as if he were sinking into cold water, his hopes going darker with each second that went by with no sound from the adjoining rooms.
“Do I have your full attention?”
Cedric nodded vigorously.
“Good. Now, you are Lord Cedric Cen-Valmont, Baron of Auvergne to the west of Lydes, you have entered into a strategy for advancement with numerous other low lords to advance your collective influence and standing at court. Obviously this is not a permanent alliance but you all stand to benefit if by working together most of you are able to at least gain access to the higher circles at court. After that of course it is every man for him or herself.”
Cedric nodded at the pause as it seemed that this was required of him.
The Warden grimaced and made a sound that was half a sigh half a growl. “The fodder on which you have been building your reputations and gaining the necessary attention, is in decrying my order. Arguing that the Right of Conscription should be repealed or restricted. Reducing or completely stripping tributes made to the Wardens. Seizing forts and land that ‘could be put to such better use’. Stating that the Darkspawn are either non-existent, a fairy tale, defeated long ago, or just someone else’s problem.” The Warden sniffed somehow conveying complete contempt for the words he had just uttered and any who would spout them.
“Obviously you are not dumb enough to shout these things from the rooftops. However quiet words over brandy and port, listening to each other’s justified and tragic complaints about those upstarts of a long irrelevant order. Those little better than criminals that swan around taking whatever they wish, and spouting stories about monsters and other tripe. Have you ever seen a Darkspawn my dear? Of course not, complete rubbish.”
Cedric felt the fear he had felt since realising he couldn’t move peak again as the Warden glared at him, his eyes darkening with each word uttered, his voice never raised, but growing as dark as his glare.
“I commend you” The Warden said cheerily, a fatherly smile on his face leaving Cedric feeling as if he had missed a step going down the stairs. “An effective strategy, that gets you in the good graces and confidence of the middle rankers you need to suck up to in order to advance. And need to keep on good terms with in order to stay in favour once you get there.”
A relaxed and rueful expression on the Wardens face as he stared at the window as if lost in thought. “Besides, has anyone in the heart of Orlais seen a Darkspawn since the Blight that started in 9:88 Dragon? The Dwarves have established a northern border that stretches from Kal’Hirol in the East to Kal’Net very near Montsimmard. Their northern battle lines have moved nought but forward in 30 years. The Waking Sea making it impossible for Darkspawn movements to bypass their lines from the north. They have strong defences on their western flank, the fortress Thaigs of Kal’Net, Baroth, and Kardol holding against any encroachment. The oceans of the East preventing anything slipping around Kal’Hirol. Do you know, that now the Dwarves have strong defensive lines forming a box around southern Thedas they have been able to push south without fear of hordes at their backs and reclaim Thaig after Thaig, with the Wardens help of course.
“Once they have that secure safe zone their population will have room and safety to increase again. We are also trying to get the armies of Ferelden and Orlais to help the Dwarves push south, let’s face it, it’s in those nations interest to ensure that the land beneath them doesn’t have tunnels breeding Darkspawn ready to raid the surface. And it has always been my goal to get us with our ‘backs to the wall’ so to speak. That way all we need to do is continue to advance forward securing as we go.”
The Wardens eyes returned to Cedric, “but I cannot do this with the vast majority of minor to moderate lords talking about how the Darkspawn are not a threat and the Grey Wardens are pointless. Can I?”
Cedric felt himself sweating, shaking his head slowly. Now it seemed to Cedric as if there were a lot of eyes on his back. If the Warden was speaking true, then in his and his cohort’s quest for advancement, had been undermining what seemed like the only victories in a war that if you asked an intelligent and unbiased historian, was simply a slow defeat on the part of the Dwarves.
“Now I am not going to tell you my name, as you probably won’t recognise it, but you heard me say ‘It has always been my goal’ yes?” a nod from Cedric, “then when I tell one of the titles I am known by you should be able to guess that a lot of the strategy in the war against the Darkspawn has been of my conception. I am Mage of the Grey, the most senior mage among the Grey Wardens, responsible for the continued training of all mages within the order, I hold the rank equivalent of Warden Commander in any nation I reside in. I am as it happens as of a few months ago 300 years old, and you are privileged my friend I do not believe anyone else in Thedas knows that piece on information. And I have made the destruction of the Darkspawn my life’s work for most of that considerable time.”
There was no fear in Cedric, he had moved past that. The Mage of the Grey, the Grey Mage. Some said he was an abomination, a monster, some said he hero, a protector, some said all of the above. Divine Victoria was famous for saying that this mage was the “Bulwark against the Tide” nearly a century ago.
The man stood up and walked towards the bed. Cedric’s heart hammering as if it were desperate to get out of his chest.
“The common people do not know as much about the Darkspawn as they probably should. They do not know the details of the fight against the Darkspawn. They do not know about their nature, how they breed, what the taint really is and what it does.
“I am going to show you all I know, you will understand the nature of the Darkspawn and every facet of the wars against them. The purpose of the Grey Wardens and the use I have put them to and will put them to in the wars to come. I will then ask you a question.
“I will ask you, that if you were in my place, you would permit anyone to undermine the fight against them. Whether or not in my place you would let Baron Cedric live.”
The Warded reached down and placed his finger tips on either side of Cedric’s head. Cedric saw a flash in the Warden’s eyes, pale blue, and then a purple tinged red. Then Cedric knew everything. The Darkspawn, the Old Gods, the Taint, the histories forgotten, the battles never given names for there was always going to be another, the screams in the dark from those never found. All of this coursed through Cedric’s mind, it seemed to take days but it was only a handful of moments before the Warden stood and removed his hands.
“Now Cedric Cen-Valmont, in my place would you let someone like you continue to undermine the efforts of the Grey Wardens to protect people just like you, so that you never have to see a Darkspawn, and have the freedom to believe that they are just stories?”
Cedric’s voice was horse as he croaked out the word “No.” Tears falling down his cheek at the things he had seen.
***
The Warden touched a hand to Cedric’s forehead and he was instantly asleep, eyes drifting closed and the face relaxing. No point letting him stay awake longer. After the initial thought he would just start bleating about how his mind had been changed, how he could persuade the others to abandon their self-serving trail of lies.
He did not need Cedric for that. While the Mage of the Grey had shared his memories, he himself had searched Cedric’s mind for all the answers he needed. He knew all the co-conspirators, and who they have been talking to. The conspirators could be dealt with, and he had agents within court who could dissuade the lords they had been talked to, to change their thoughts or simply redirect them. He considered talking to the Inquisition about dealing with these nobles, but perhaps best that they not have too big a role in his plans for the Orlesian Court.
The Inquisition had already pledged their army to support the Dwarven advance south from Orzammar. With the Ferelden army pressing from the east, and soon the Orlesian army from the west, the Wardens could champion the cleansing of thousands of leagues of enemy territory. The Dwarven people reclaiming resources and room to repopulate. Ferelden and Southern Orlais gaining access to the kind of trading relationship and safe travel routes not enjoyed since Old Tevinter. And final victory actually a possible thing, something that can actually be envisioned for the first time. A rallying cry that can be used calling the lazy surface nations in to action at last. We beat the Darkspawn here. We can do it again.
It all seemed so long, every step laborious, fighting for every small insignificant victory. But looking back now, it all seems to have added up. A century ago no one could imagine the kind of progress that had been made since. Victory actually possible, far in the distance perhaps but there if we worked for it. Once again he saw that corpse of a Darkspawn emissary, a memory he had drifted back to more times that he could care to remember. To that memory he said, “No, now we can win.”
Cedric still sleeping, the mage reached out with his magic and spread the paralysis spell completely. Every muscle tensed, the lunges ceased to move. But he maintained the sleep spell. No need to be cruel. As air was deprived the body slowly died, never making a sound.
As he felt life finally leave the young man’s body, he released the spells he had wrought that night. He placed a hand on the door, and with the slighted pressure it seemed to give up all resistance and he passed through it into the hall. The door completely unmarked. A maid was walking through the hall, but she made no notice of the stranger, did not even notice as she walked around a spot on the landing as if there was something in that space.
The next morning the body of Cedric Cen-Valmont was found in his bed. No marks were on his body, he was simply gone. The door had been locked from the inside, the windows were too small for anyone even an elf to fit through. There was no scaring on the inside of the mouth indicating poison and the guards who had taken turns watching and listening all night had heard nothing. It was deemed by the court to be a mystery and a tragedy, with a moments silence held on behalf of this young man so early into his entry of the Game. But the Game moves on.