#very aware the authors on tumblr and that scares me greatly

[turnupswritessometimes]

A Toast to the Roman - Last Binding Series - Oneshot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56529883

Summary: “Mr Ross.” Shit, Robin’s Baronet tone was out – that was how Alan knew he was in trouble. “Did you sell pornography to my sister on an ocean liner?”

“In my defence—” He used his best, most clipped voice. “Your sister bullied me into selling her all the pornography I was carrying. And, if I didn’t sell it to her, I believe the fair lady would have stolen it.”

(In which, Robin discovers Alan sold Maud his porn stash, everyone discovers the identity of the Roman and Alan discovers he's responsible for helping start all of their relationships.)

Word Count: 3,473

A Toast to the Roman

It happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon. A lazy Sunday afternoon of a bank holiday weekend. Naturally, the bank holiday meant Maud had been invited back to the Blyth estate from University – and where Maud Blyth went, Violet Debenham followed. Then, because Robin was Robin, he extended the invitation to Lord Hawthorn, to, “make it something of a party.”

And, where Lord Hawthorn went, Alan Ross seemed to follow.

“That had been my idea – a friendly party,” Robin had said, when they’d arrived. He wore that bright, Baronet smile that was impossible to resist. “A reunion, of the Final Contract Crew.”

Alan smiled back, blankly. “The what?”

“Ignore him,” Edwin appeared from further down the hallway, his arms full of books. “I’ve told him, we’re not calling ourselves that.”

“We need a team name,” Robin said. “Don’t you think?”

Alan weighed that up – figuring out who else would be solidly against the idea of a team name, who would be for it, and which side would be for fun to be with – when Jack said, “This isn’t Oxford, Blyth.”

Robin only laughed. He stepped aside, and welcomed them properly into his house. Alan was starting to feel more and more at ease on these estates, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Certainly didn’t like becoming accustomed to houses with their own grounds; changing for dinner; days without any plans to do real work. At least he still felt the same zeal to radicalise the staff. At least he would never tire of the way Jack looked at him when Alan did have the clothes to change to dinner: as though he wanted to rip them straight back off and kiss him completely senseless. It was the company – not just Jack, but all of them – that made Alan begrudgingly alright with the whole business. Because they were closer to him than simply friends now. It was like having a second family.

And it was a nice weekend – a good weekend – until Robin leant forward to move a pile of books from the coffee table in the lounge to make room for the chess set, and a purple pamphlet fell out.

There seemed, to Alan, a moment where time stopped, as everyone recognised it. (Purple, Alan thought almost hysterically, was not a very discreet colour.) They’d all been half-asleep in the sunshine drifting through the windows, lounging around, totally full of roast beef dinner with all the trimmings. Now, though, they were all awake. He took stock. Adelaide was (mercifully) in the garden. Maud sat in front of the armchair, legs folded under her, with an expression so carefully clueless it looped right round to guilty. Violet actually sat in the armchair, playing with Maud’s hair, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on her face. Entertained.

Both Edwin and Robin were sat on the sofa opposite Alan. Well, Robin was leant over, looking at the pamphlet as though it was a dog who’d slipped the leash and he was trying to catch it solely with his mind. Whilst Edwin was reclining, an elbow on the sofa, his fingers against his temples. He looked faintly sick.

Alan and Jack were on the other sofa. Not close – not practically on top of each other, the way Edwin and Robin always sat. Jack was a respectable distance away, though his arm was over the back of the sofa. If he twitched his hand, he could just graze the back of Alan’s neck – which he deliberately did now. His bad leg was outstretched, his cane against the end of the sofa. He looked impressively uncaring, but there was just a – quirk – to his mouth that showed his amusement.

Alan himself sat on the edge of the sofa, primed like a terrier, and he was desperately trying to school his expression into normalcy. He suspected he was succeeding as well as Maud. He felt nauseous. It was one thing to know that a lot of men had read his pamphlets; it was another thing entirely to come face to face with them – especially when he was good friends with them. Especially when he’d fought alongside them to save England’s magicians – England – the world?

“Ah,” Robin said. “That’s Win’s.”

Edwin’s usually colourless face flushed with pink. “Robin!”

“What?” Robin smiled, easily, and picked up the pamphlet. He still twisted it, to hide the title. “No one knows what it is.”

“Okay,” Alan said. He couldn’t help it. “Even if we all didn’t know what it is, that would only make us more suspicious.”

Jack’s pointer finger traced his neck, and he determinedly did not look at him. No doubt the bastard was smug and smirking. He hated him when he was like that.

“It truly is the guiltiest thing you could’ve said, Robin,” Violet added.

“In that case—” Edwin cleared his throat. “For the record, it’s not just mine.”

“Wait, no.” Now Robin stood, the books discarded, holding Alan’s fucking pornography aloft in one hand. “I can understand Hawthorn and Alan knowing about the Roman. I can even understand Violet. But I would like Maud to explain how she knows.”

Maud ducked her chin, smiling. It was the kind of smile that Alan suspected got her out of a lot of trouble growing up, and he could already see Robin start to relent.

“I happened to stumble upon his works, aboard the Lyric,” she said.

“How?” Robin pressed.

Maud, bless her, probably tried not to. But she couldn’t stop those bright green eyes from flicking to Alan. She might as well have pointed her finger and shouted.

Alan, knowing it was a show of guilt, still looked down. The back of his neck prickled, expecting a nudge from Jack. He didn’t, this time, not with Robin staring him down. It was not so much that their relationship was a secret, but they both seemed repelled by physical affection when other people were in the room. (Apart, of course, from longing looks and ‘accidental touches.’ Perhaps that was part of it.)

“Mr Ross.” Shit, Robin’s Baronet tone was out – that was how Alan knew he was in trouble. “Did you sell pornography to my sister on an ocean liner?”

Violet burst out laughing; Maud giggled; even Edwin hid a smirk behind his hand. Jack though, Jack watched Alan with those piercing blue eyes. He had one eyebrow ever so slightly raised, like a challenge.

Alan, though, wondered if it was a good time to bring up the fact that he’d betrayed them all to Edwin’s evil older brother, and made the whole Last Contract business a hell of a lot harder. Surely that would be a good distraction from selling a Baronet’s sister porn.

“In my defence—” He used his best, most clipped voice. “Your sister bullied me into selling her all the pornography I was carrying. And, if I didn’t sell it to her, I believe the fair lady would have stolen it.”

Maud cried, “That’s slanderous, Mr Ross!”

Robin, though, rolled his eyes, as though he wasn’t truly angry. “Maudie. You can’t bully people into selling you things.”

“In my defence—” Maud sat up, even straighter, her dark hair falling out of Violet’s grasp. It fell around her shoulders in a soft wave. “It made for the most amusing evening we had on that ship.”

“Oh, that’s very true,” Violet added, nudging Maud’s shoulder with her knee. Her smile was dazzling. “Who knew Lord Hawthorn would make such a good character in a Roman pamphlet?”

Robin’s eyebrows rose in interest, looking over them all. Even Edwin looked intrigued. They were both, no doubt, using their imagination, given their familiarity with the Roman’s work. Alan was regretting eating so many roasted parsnips, because they were surely going to be making a second appearance.  Even that would be preferable to them guessing at the intricacies of their relationship.

It didn’t help, of course, that Jack looked so calm about it all – so uncaring – so fucking smug, when he said, “Indeed.”

Alan wanted to bite him, like a cobra. Unfortunately, thinking about biting Jack; about pouncing on his neck and sinking his teeth in; also sent a sting of pleasure through him. Because, hell, when they were alone these days, they alternated between playing out the Roman’s greatest hits and coming up with the inspiration for the next one. Because hadn’t Jack been folded into each of those stories anyway? What was the point of pretending otherwise?

Robin, at least, seemed at a loss. He nodded. Took a breath. Tried, Alan thought, to still be the indulgent, carefree older brother he always was. He twisted the pamphlet in his hand, hitting it in his other palm. Eventually, he sat back down on the sofa. Edwin’s knee nudged his own, in support.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m not happy about it, but alright. That does explain my question. Thank you.”

Edwin rested his cheek on his knuckles, looking Alan over as though he wanted to study him. He decidedly did not like being the centre of attention in this way – it was even worse than being dressed in fine clothes and trotted out to dinner.

“I’m sorry, Robin,” he murmured, and tried to look suitably embarrassed. Really, his mind was thinking back to that night on the ship. Was placing bull horns on the sides of Jack Alston’s head. Would there be any way to convince him to play that part properly, one day? To hear him rumble ‘Cesare,’ in his ear, when he caught hold of him? When he lifted him bodily, as though he weighed nothing and had Alan completely at his mercy.

He had to shift, on the sofa.

Jack. Whose eyebrow raised a step further. Alan narrowed his eyes in reply.

“Allow me,” Jack said, in that low murmur. It was as much of a ‘please,’ as he could ever give. It was the fact that he asked at all, which cut through Alan’s core. The asshole wouldn’t give Alan’s secret away without his permission. Now that he thought about it, he did want to see their reaction.

He nodded.

“What?” Edwin asked, his tongue sharp and his eyes sharper.

Jack, bastard that he was, drew the moment out. Settled himself even further into the sofa, adjusting his leg again, and tilting his chin ever so slightly up in that lordly fashion.

“Books are best read by their authors,” Jack said. He pinched the back of Alan’s neck. Just enough to sting. He had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing. His cheeks bloomed with heat.

There was another moment. A long moment. Edwin looked faintly sick again, his face colourless, his eyes flicking from Alan to Jack. Robin had stopped moving entirely, a half-smile frozen on his face, as though he was expecting them to say it was all a joke. Maud, though, had her hands pressed to her mouth, and looked ecstatic. Violet had hold of Maud’s tresses again, and looked suitably impressed. It was as though Alan writing pornography earnt him more respect, in her eyes, than saving them all from crazy magicians.

Jack, though, Jack looked smug. His hand had stayed just against the back of Alan’s neck. It felt like a claim. Like he’d decided to undress Alan in front of the whole room, and, just like when Jack actually undressed him, it filled him with equal parts embarrassment and excitement. Because everyone in this room was somewhat acquainted with the Roman, and they knew what that implied. Weren’t just placing them both in one of those pamphlets, but confirming it for a fact.  

It should bother him more, that he’d exposed not only his own writing, but his own tastes. But, Maud had let slip too many details about her own love life to Alan – and Jack commiserated his pain from Violet’s chats – and from Robin and Edwin determinedly not looking at each other, he guessed they all had their own tastes. That, at least, meant none of them were alone.

“You don’t mean—” Robin started.

“You?” Edwin asked.

Alan grinned. He couldn’t help it. He opened his hands, his fingers splayed. It was different to admit it when he wasn’t teasing Jack Alston. (When he wasn’t trying to fuck Jack Alston.) It gave him a slight thrill, though, to have this knowledge over everyone. To know that even men like Robin, magicians like Edwin, read his work. And liked it.

From behind Maud’s hands came a delighted giggle. Her eyes shone like jewels. Alan looked at her. He couldn’t help it. He flicked his eyelid in a wink. She giggled more, ducking her chin.

Robin rubbed a hand over his face, laughing soundlessly, still seeming dazed. “But you’re—”

“Older than I look.” Alan leant back, into Jack’s hand. Felt his finger press against the bone of his neck. It sent warmth rushing down his back.

“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” Jack said. Smug, and, if Alan wasn’t losing his mind, a little proud too. Jack Alston was proud of him. It shouldn’t make him feel like a dog with a bone.

Robin thumped back against the sofa. He still held the pamphlet, and he let it uncurl. Alan got a glimpse at the title; it was the latest. He was still a subscriber, then.

“Damn,” he said. His dark eyes roved over Alan again, and he felt his heart squirm. It was unfair how attractive Robin Blyth was. Doubly unfair that he was much too nice to be in any of Alan’s pamphlets. “You’re a skilled writer, Alan.”

Violet snorted. She finished tying off Maud’s plait. “Please – are you going to wax lyrical about his descriptive writing?”

“Well, it is descriptive.”

Edwin took a folded wooden chess set from the table, and tapped Robin’s leg with it in rebuke. Alan bit his tongue harder, a chill running down his spine by the fact that Jack’s hand was still on his collar.

“It might interest you to know, then,” Edwin said, casually, with just a single sly look at Alan. “That the Roman’s writings played somewhat of a role in Robin and I starting our relationship.”

He said it like a poker player placing a winning hand. It certainly felt like that. For a moment, Alan couldn’t breathe.

He supposed it made sense. After all, they’d all recognised the purple pamphlet here, didn’t they? It was a discreet way of asking if someone else was of a similar persuasion, and he was sure it happened a lot. But, still—

“Is there anyone here who is not in a relationship because of my bloody pornography?” he asked.

“That’s a fine discussion to be having.”

Saints alive, it was Adelaide. Back from the garden, and peering into the lounge. Alan wanted to shrivel up like a raisin on the spot, and never be heard from again, especially with the way she was looking at them all. Thank God for the Blyths, and their infectious laughter. It dissolved most of the awkwardness in the room.

Adelaide looked at them all. She shook her head, and said, deliberately, “I will be reading in my room, if anyone needs me.”

“I’m sorry you had to overhear that,” Robin spoke for the group.

She shook her head again, and disappeared. It left them all looking at each other like guilty children. At least Adelaide’s appearance had knocked some of the smug from Jack’s expression. Alan sat back a little, on the sofa, and felt another possessive graze of touch on the back of his neck. It had answered his question. At least Robin finally had the sense to put the pamphlet back between the books, and pile them up underneath the table, and Edwin had busied himself in setting up the chess board. As Alan watched him, he couldn’t help but wonder – just which of Edwin’s copies of his work were the most well-thumbed? Did he and Robin play them out, too?

Edwin glanced up at him. Alan looked away. He definitely shouldn’t let his mind wander there.

Evidently, it was playing on Violet’s mind too, because she said, “I, for one, am very glad we can all share these details about our sex lives.”

Alan winced; he saw Edwin shake his head, determinedly, where Robin outright groaned.

“No, thank you,” he said.

“Oh, don’t be such a bore,” Maud said, tugging her new plait over her shoulder.

“Maudie.” Robin looked at her.

Maud got his meaning. She wrinkled her noise. “Oh no, you’re right. Let’s not.”

“That’s hardly fair, when I have to listen to Miss Debenham regale me with her stories,” Jack said. He had that fake disgruntled tone, which showed he wasn’t actually cross.

“That’s what friends do, Lord Hawthorn.” Violet ruined her air of manners and dignity by sticking her tongue out.

Alan laughed. He couldn’t help it. The sick feeling had given way to heady one; he’d been met with acceptance; with almost too much eagerness. But it was a secret they were all in together – just like magic, Alan supposed. That was why he felt so giddy. It was so ridiculous. It was ridiculous that he was able to have this conversation at all.

Ridiculous, and yet – it was a secret he could never share with his family. A secret that he was oddly glad to share with this family. His other family. It made him feel confident – powerful – like he’d earnt his place here.

He didn’t want to read too much into what that meant.

“I certainly will be reading the Roman in a new light.” Edwin finished setting up the board. He made the first move, with white, and rested his elbows on his knees as he waited for an opponent.

It definitely wasn’t going to be Alan. The more he played of chess, the less he liked it. He resolutely sat back, trying not to look too much like a cat with the cream. He was giddy, now; giddier from Jack’s proud look and smug smirk. Jack was proud that he’d landed the Roman.

It was Jack who made the move against Edwin. They looked at each other, and Alan suspected it would be a tense match. He nudged Jack’s elbow with his own, when he moved forward. He got a glimmer of those blue eyes on him.

“I know I certainly will be.” That was Maud, also looking far too smug – far too happy about who she could imagine in those pamphlets, now.

“You shouldn’t be reading them at all,” Robin replied – as though he was the epitome of innocence.

“I’m a grown woman, Robin.”

The two glared at each other. Silently, Edwin leant forward to move another chess piece. Jack followed suit. They’d exchanged three moves each by the time Robin stood, clapping his hands on his knees as though that concluded the conversation. (Which meant he’d lost the argument to his sister, Alan noticed.)

“I do have questions, though,” Robin continued. He was heading to the cabinet, and thank fuck for that, because that was where the liquor was kept. Alan felt like a drink. He eyed the sparkling glasses, because it was the only safe thing to keep his eyes on.

“I will not be answering any questions about practicality,” Alan said.

Violet laughed again. Jack made a move that clearly lost him his bishop.

Robin was pouring drinks on the sideboard. His cheeks were actually a faint pink, as though he was embarrassed.

“That wasn’t…” He seemed to be pretending to be more occupied in getting each shot of brandy even. “I rather meant about – where your ideas originate.”

“No,” Alan said. “Not today. Certainly not whilst I’m sober enough to remember. Tihank you.”

Which, at least, got a chuckle out of Jack. Alan kicked his good ankle, and was pleased to see that he left a shoe mark on his Lordship’s trousers. He would not even look at Edwin – still soundly winning against Jack – because he was sure there would be some knowing there.

Robin looked suitably cowed and apologetic (for the time being), as he handed out the glasses. They really were fine things; crystal-clear glass with patterns cuts into them; the likes of which the Rossi family would likely never own.

He really did live in two worlds.

“Can we have a toast though?” Robin asked. Asked Alan, and actually waited for him to nod, cheeks still hot. He was rewarded with another of those bright, Blyth smiles. “Well then, a toast to the Roman – for how his…descriptive literature brought us all together.”

Brought them all together, indeed, Alan thought, as they raised their glasses in unison. The brandy glowed golden in the sunlight coming through the windows. It was warm, kicking Alan’s throat on the way down.

But he was smiling.

And that, he thought, was pretty fantastic.

[sassylavellen]

Retribution: Prologue (Reuploaded)

Story: Dragon Age Retribution REUPLOADED TO FIX ISSUES AND TO INCLUDE MORE CONTEXT AT THE END A short(?) story by Sam Shenberger Words: 4,980 (oh boy…)

This is my first time really writing this style in years, and certainly the first time I’m sharing something like this on tumblr, so please forgive me if there are some formatting issues.

Any feedback of any kind (positive or negative) is greatly appreciated! I’m good with constructive criticism, it won’t hurt my feelings!

*the keep reading thing doesn’t work on moblie apparently*

The day of the Grand Tourney had come. Evelyn awoke to the sounds of the first bird songs of the spring. The window had apparently blown open in the night wind. With a groan, she rolled out of the little cot she had set up and trudged over to the window. The breeze blew her bangs out of her face as she looked out at the first lights of dawn creeping over the tall, impressive buildings that made up the city of Ostwick. It was a clear morning, but it was still cold. With a sigh, she closed the window and turned away. It was mornings like these that made her homesick. She had always been on the move and on her own since she was seventeen, there was really no place she called home. But she still pined for a place of comfort. She just hadn’t found it yet. With a sigh, Evelyn turned and looked around the room. For the past few months, she had been living in a tiny room in a stable. Her bedroom was only large enough for a small cot with no blankets, a bucket full of water that she used for cleaning and bathing, a large trunk and a satchel that she kept her personal belongings in, and a cracked mirror hanging crooked on the wall. She crossed over to the bucket and splashed water onto her face. The water was colder than Evelyn expected - the window must have been opened longer than she thought. She caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror. Her hair was messy and sticking out at weird angles and her big pointy ears stuck out like sore thumbs. The make-up she had been using to hide the Dalish tattoo on her face was now running off from the water. She truly looked like a mess.

“What are you doing with yourself?” She mumbled to herself. With one last look, she turned away. “The same damn thing I’ve been doing.”

She knelt down and opened her trunk. There were leather and metal armor pieces inside, and she set them aside as she dug deeper into the trunk to find some clean clothing. There were none. She hadn’t had time to wash any of her clothes recently. With another sigh, she pulled out the least dirty tunic she could find and a pair of leather trousers. After dressing, she began strapping on the armor pieces. Evelyn took one last look in the mirror as she passed to the door. She quickly brushed some make-up onto her face to hide her tattoo, and then ruffled her hair up until it hid both of her ears. With a heavy sigh she pulled up her hood, grabbed her satchel, then left the room. She had been trying to find a place to call home. This wasn’t it.

In the stable, a black horse came up to the edge of his enclosure as Evelyn approached. With a smile, she produced a carrot from her pocket and gave it to him.

“One more day, Shadow.” She whispered to him with a pat. “One more day.”

Ostwick was a very rich place. Buildings made out of beautiful polished marble towered high about Evelyn as she walked down the busiest road in the main part of the city. The citizens there walked about the streets in their finest coats, flaunting their fancy jewelry and other possessions. Some of them shot Evelyn some strange looks. She was dressed nothing like them, but at least most people didn’t look close enough to notice she was an elf. Evelyn was tall for an elf. She was actually taller than some of the humans here, which worked to her advantage many times. Evelyn didn’t care. It was what got her the job she currently had, after all. She made her way through the winding streets towards the center of the town, where a large crowd was gathering. Several town criers were shouting at the top of their lungs, announcing that the Grand Tourney was soon to begin.

Off to one side of the crowd near a small shop, Damien Mohanan stood in the shadows, waiting. His shifty eyes darted to and fro, looking for someone. After a moment, Evelyn appeared in the alley behind him.

“You’re late” he mumbled.

“No I’m not.” Evelyn retorted impatiently. She hated Damien, but he paid well. She had been running in his little smuggling ring for about a year now, and she had been one of his most effective workers. But he was a slimy, greedy son of a bitch who wouldn’t give two coppers to save his dying mother. Recently, Damien had got it in his head that he could make a ton of sovereigns betting on the tourney. To do that and win, he would need to sponsor a fighter who would for sure win. Evelyn was that fighter. The only problem was that elves were not allowed to participate in the tourney. That was why Evelyn had been hiding her elven features.

“Your armor is shit. Where is that armor I got you?” he asked.

“No it’s not, it’s effective!” Evelyn retorted. “I didn’t like the armor you gave me.”

“It wasn’t a request, knife ears!” He snapped back at her. Quick as a flash, Evelyn pulled a knife out of her belt and had it at his throat before he could so much as blink.

“Don’t. Call. Me. Knife-ears” Evelyn growled through her teeth. She lowered the knife and put it back in her belt. “That’s why I wear my armor like this. So I can move faster than they do.”

Damien gave her a dirty look and brushed off his coat, trying to act like she didn’t just scare the shit out of him. “Just don’t let me down and I’ll overlook that little show of insolence.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes and walked away. “That’s what I do best!” She called over her shoulder. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a leather helmet. With a deep breath, she threw her hood off and put the helmet on. It wasn’t comfortable and it flattened her ears against her head, but it was a necessity.

A few hours later, the Tourney had been going on for some time and Evelyn had won every round in the melee so far. She had faced six fighters and bested them all. There was only one final fighter for her to face. For now, she was sitting in a champion’s room in the arena, waiting. Several other winners from other events in the Tourney were also in the room with her. An elven servant came up to her and offered her a cup of water. Evelyn took it and gave the elf a smile. “You don’t have to serve me.” She said.

“It’s no trouble, my lady.” The elf replied.

At that moment, the sound of the crowd cheering uproariously came through the doorways.

“Sounds like we have another champion,” said the elf. Evelyn looked up to see a human enter into the champion room. He had long brown hair and a boyish grin on his face. Several of the other winners stood up and applauded him.

"Seems like he’s pretty popular.” Evelyn remarked.

“Popular?” The elf replied. “He’s only won the archery championship three years in a row!” Evelyn noticed a hint of attraction in her voice. The man sat down in a chair nearby and the elf rushed over to offer him water. He took it with laugh.

“Thank you, Vhenna!” he said. She smiled widely, then ran away blushing. He shook his head, but noticed Evelyn looking at him. She looked away quickly.

“I haven’t seen you before” he said.

“I’m new.” she said shortly.

"Nice.” he nodded. “Your accent… Starkhaven?”

“More or less.”

“I like Starkhaven.” he said. “It’s beautiful this time of year.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not much of a talker and I don’t even know you.”

The man chuckled. “Sorry, how rude of me… I know most of the people around here. My name is Stephen Trevelyan.”

Evelyn glanced up. Everyone in Ostwick knew the name Trevelyan. They were one of the largest and most important noble families in the land, certainly one of the richest. They had almost all the power and authority in Ostwick, second only to the Templars. Even there, many members of the family were a part of the Templar order. And Evelyn had just sassed one of them.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” She said quickly. “I meant no-”

At that moment, a bell rang out. Evelyn looked up.

“Ah, the final melee match.” said Stephen. “That’s you, right? Good luck.”

Evelyn stood up and hurried to the door without answering. She did glance over her shoulder back at him before she exited. Her mind was beginning to race. What would happen if she were found out? Now there was a noble kid involved. She took a huge deep breath. It wasn’t that bad, she reminded herself. He wasn’t in the warrior ring, he wasn’t directly involved. Evelyn just continued down the hall to the arena. It was going to be okay. Right?

The gates in front of her opened up and she walked out into the arena. She was still panicking a little bit inside. She was only partly aware of the crier standing next to her announcing her name to the cheering crowd… and what a crowd it was. The audience seating went in a large circle around the fighting ground, and not a single seat looked like it was empty. Evelyn suddenly caught sight of her opponent on the opposite side of the arena and her heart dropped again. It was a large man, dressed in beautiful golden-tinted armor from head to toe, and wielding a double-sided broadsword. And there she was, standing there like a child in her mix-match armor and tiny sword with chips and dents in the blade. The other opponents didn’t intimidate her at all but suddenly she was frozen. He had to be part Qunari, Evelyn thought to herself. There was no other way he could be that tall and that muscular.

Suddenly a bell rang out. The fight had begun. The man came barreling towards her with a shout like a war cry. Evelyn gripped her sword tighter as he charged. Now that the fight was started, her head was clearing. She stood her ground until he was almost upon her, then right as he raised his sword to strike at her; she ducked and rolled under his swing, spinning around to strike herself. To her surprise, the man also whirled around with her and countered her blow.

He swung again. And again. With each parry and every dodge, Evelyn felt nothing but ferocity. That man was not going to play nice. This was more than a competition to him. She knew there had to be a way to use this against him. She just couldn’t focus long enough between blows to figure it out.

Attack. Parry. Attack. Parry. Dodge. Attack. It felt like this fight was going on for an eternity, and she was losing. He stuck her again and she parried, but this time instead of pushing against his blow, she swung her sword the same direction, spinning around and hoping it would either disarm him or at least make him lose his balance. Miraculously, it worked. The man fell flat on the ground and his blade flew away. Evelyn stood in shock, just as surprised that it happened as the crowd was. This brief pause was a mistake. He kicked and knocked her legs out from under her. She fell, her sword landing several feet away. Almost as quickly as she fell, the man stood up. Evelyn tried to scramble up, but he put his foot on her chest, keeping her down.

“I know what you are.” he growled as Evelyn struggled under his foot. “I’ve seen this style of fighting before… Elf.” He reached down and ripped her helmet off her head. The crowd gasped in unison. He pulled her up by her hair and held her up to the crowd.

“My lords and ladies, it seems we have an elf in the arena,” The Tourney announcer shouted out. “The fight is forfeit, and the defending champion wins!”

Evelyn glanced at the crowd. They were booing her. Now she was panicking. She was in deep shit. She had broken the rules of the tourney, and if they find out about her smuggling… Elves got the alienage for far less. She was facing prison or worse… She had to get out of here. And fast.

The arena doors opened up again and two Templars emerged. She began to struggle against her opponent, and managed to break free of his grip. She could feel hair being ripped from her scalp, but she couldn’t stop to react. She dashed towards the arena doors. The Templars shouted at her to stop, but she ran right for them. They drew their swords, prepared to fight her. As they came at her, she ducked and rolled under their blades. As she sped into the hallway, she slammed the door behind them. She was surprised that there were no more guards in there, but she kept running. She stumbled through the entrance to the champion’s room. As she paused looking around for the quickest exit, Stephen Trevelyan stood up in surprised.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Evelyn could hear the Templars running through the hall behind her. She didn’t have time to find a better exit. The only way out was forward. She dashed towards the exit again, shoving Stephen out of her way. Hopefully a bruised noble would slow them down, she thought. The rest of the mad dash to the outside was a blur and Evelyn barely processed it until she reached the exit. Now she could get lost in the crowd. She began speed walking through the crowded streets, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. It seemed to have worked. The Templars were nowhere to be seen, but she couldn’t drop her guard just yet. She wasn’t far from her stable. She could lie low there, and then make a run for it before the Templars could find her. With a last glance over her shoulder, she picked up her pace and cut through an alleyway to get to her stable. As she reached the door, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up slightly. She could feel eyes upon her. She took a quick glace behind her and her heart stopped.

It was Damien, standing at the far end of the alley with two shadowy men. There was rage in his eyes. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she saw him talking with the men. He was sending them after her, she was sure. Quickly, Evelyn stepped into the stable.

“Shit!” she shouted out loud. Her mind was racing faster than she could comprehend. She could only understand one thing: she needed to run. Evelyn dashed into her little room and began stuffing her belongings into her satchel. She couldn’t fit everything, and Shadow couldn’t carry the trunk.

“Shit!” she suddenly cried out again. At that moment, she had realized that she left her sword at the arena. She was weaponless. Slung the bag over her shoulder and took one last look in the mirror. Her makeup was mostly run off and her vallaslin tattoo was showing again. She quickly wrapped her hand in a thick cloth, and then with a deep breath she punched the mirror. Glass shards broke off onto the floor. Evelyn picked one of the larger shards up with her wrapped hand. At that moment, she heard the stable door open. She took another look at the jagged piece of glass in her hand. It was going to have to do. She stood there in her little room, waiting for her attackers to barge in.

There was a knock at the door. Evelyn lowered her shard in confusion. What kind of assassins were these? They knocked again, and then a woman’s voice rang out.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

Evelyn didn’t know how to respond. This was definitely was first for her. But then she remembered, Damien was talking with two men. So who was this woman? Slowly she approached the door.

“What do you want?” She called back.

“Thank the Maker,” the voice replied, a tone of relief in her voice. “I’m looking for an elf. Tall, running through this area?”

“Shit…” Evelyn repeated under her breath. This woman had to be part of Damien’s plan. Why else would she be looking for her?

“What’s she to you?” Evelyn asked.

“Can I come in? I feel awkward talking to a door,” said the voice.

Evelyn knew this was a bad idea, but there was something about this voice that didn’t give off an assassin feel. She hid the glass shard behind her back, and then slowly opened the door.

The woman on the other side was also tall, but not quite as tall as Evelyn. She was obviously another noble, judging by her fine clothing. The woman’s eyes lit up, excited.

"You’re her! I recognize your armor from the fight!” She exclaimed.

“Keep your voice down!” said Evelyn, throwing her unwrapped hand up. The woman looked at her, puzzled. Evelyn cleared her throat. “The um… The horses get startled easily.”

“I’d think running in like you did would have spooked them more than me raising my voice.” the woman replied, with a small smirk. Evelyn narrowed her eyes. Another funny one, she thought.

“What do you want?” asked Evelyn. “You were obviously at the fight, you know what I did. Who sent you? Damien? The Templars? That lord kid I knocked over?”

“No one.” replied the woman. “I came looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never seen a woman fight like that… human or elf.”

Evelyn heard the sounds of people scuffling outside and tightened her grip on the shard. “Listen, lady. I don’t have time for fan clubs. Why did you come here?”

The woman was starting to get annoyed.

“Fine. I’ll get to the point. I wish to train as a warrior, and I’d like for you to teach me.”

Evelyn stared at her blankly. Was this woman serious? Why would she ever wish for her to teach her? Her of all people? Evelyn had no training herself; she had just made it up as she went, learning from experience out in the real world.

“Who are you?” Evelyn said finally.

“Shit, where are my manners… My name is Holli.” said the woman, holding out her hand. Evelyn glanced down at the hand. She was definitely a noble kid; she had a fancy ring with a tiny house crest on it. Evelyn was sure she had seen it before, but was too preoccupied to think of when.

“And why do you want-” Evelyn began, but at that moment, the doors burst open. The horses in the stable snorted and cried in surprise. Standing in the doorway were the two mercs that Evelyn had seen with Damien. The first one gestured at Evelyn to the second.

“Watch out, lady.” said Evelyn, as she pushed Holli out of the way and pulled out her makeshift weapon. The mercs unsheathed their swords and rushed towards her. Quick as a flash, Evelyn nimbly dodged the swing from the first merc, then ducked under the blow from the second, stabbing her shard into his leg. The force of the stab cut through the wraps on her hand and cut her. She instinctively let go of it. The shard fell and shattered on the ground. Once again, Evelyn was without a weapon. Quickly, she rolled out of the way of another blow and picked up the chair by the door. She brought it down hard on the first merc, then with all the strength she could muster, kicked the second merc into the stable across from her. The horse became startled again and kicked him in return. Evelyn stood there, looking at the men sprawled on the ground, one in front of her, the other behind. Holli stood up and brushed hay and dirt off her dress.

“This is what I mean” she said. “I want to be able to do that.”

“Why?” Evelyn asked, stepping away from the men to look Holli in the eye. “Why would a noble kid like you ever want to get your hands dirty? And why would you want an elf of all people to get your hands dirty?”

“I’m not a kid!” Holli replied, indignant. “I’m 31 years old!”

“You’re older than me…?” Evelyn mumbled. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why me?”

“I come from a long line of warriors,” said Holli. "My father was before me, and his father before him, and his father before him and so on for generations. And I wish to continue this family tradition.”

“Doesn’t your family have a trainer?” Evelyn asked.

“No.” Holli replied. “The family has been without for some time. I had no interest in training when I was younger, but I’ve recently had a change of heart. As for your question of you being an elf… That I’ll just admit I saw your performance today and I was impressed.”

Evelyn was even more confused by this answer. “But… I broke the rules to get there, doesn’t that bother you?”

Holli shrugged. “That just makes you more interesting to me. Look, I’m offering to pay you to train me. What say you?”

Evelyn sighed. She was out of a job now, but it wasn’t safe for her to stay in Ostwick anymore. It might not even be safe for her in the Free Marches anymore.

“Look…” she began, but suddenly, the hair on her neck stood up again. She turned to see the first man had gotten back up and was swinging at her. Holli gasped in shock. Evelyn leaned away from the blade, but not quite fast enough. She could feel the cold metal slice on her face. She crashed to the ground with a cry of pain. Holli threw up her arms.

“Hey!” she cried as she tried to wrestle the sword from the man’s hands. SMACK! His metal glove backhanded her in the face and she too fell to the ground.

“We have orders!” The man grunted, but then he caught sight of Holli’s crest ring. His eyes widened in shock.

“My lady!” He said, dropping his sword. “My lady, I… I meant no offense!”

Evelyn was still on the ground, blood trickling from her forehead down into her eyes. Holli stood back up and confronted the man. She had two cuts on her own face, one on her temple, and the other across her nose.

“Do you have any idea of what you and your friend have done?” She said, menacingly.

“I’m terribly sorry, your worship!” the man said, bowing before her. “I am but a humble…”

“Shut up!” said Holli sharply. “Get your man and leave at once before I call the guard!”

The man scrambled back up and picked his friend up, slinging him over one shoulder and leaving promptly.

On the ground, Evelyn felt her wound. It wasn’t as bad as it felt, just a slash across her forehead, but she was sure it would probably leave a scar. “You must be from a real important family for that to have worked.”

At that moment, someone else rushed into the stable. Evelyn wiped her eyes to see who it was. It was Stephen, the noble who won the archery tournament.

“Holli!” he said, catching sight of her bleeding face. “What happened here?”

“We got attacked.” Holli said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if this happened to her regularly.

“Are you alright?” asked Stephen, whom had caught sight of Evelyn sprawled on the ground.

“Yeah, no thanks to you, brother.” replied Holli, as she reach down to help Evelyn up.

“Brother?” Evelyn began to put the two together. “He’s your brother?”

“Yes.”

“So… so then you’re a Trevelyan?” Evelyn groaned. There was no way she could salvage this, not only had she cheated in the tourney but now her new job offer came from the sister of one of the contestants from the tourney she cheated.

“Holli…” said Stephen cautiously. It was clear he recognized Evelyn. “What’s going on here?” For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, Evelyn felt her heart drop.

“Nothing.” Holli replied. “I just wanted to hire her.”

“Hire her?”

“That’s what I said. So how about it? We can discuss exact payment when we assess your duties, but I assure you, I can pay quite handsomely. What do you think?”

Holli held out her hand. Evelyn stood there, unsure of what to think. She was either in deep shit, or just had the luckiest break of her life. But then, Evelyn thought, she had been in deep shit ever since she ran away from her home at age seventeen. How could it get worse? Holli was obviously willing to stick her neck out for her for some reason. Evelyn took Holli’s hand and shook it.

“Fine. Deal.” said Evelyn with a smile.

It took about an hour to travel from Ostwick city to the Trevelyan estate. The whole ride was awkward and Evelyn didn't even know what to say or how to talk to her new employers. Holli was talkitive, going on and on about trivial things like new dresses and apples. Evelyn had no idea what apples were. She guessed they were a food by the way she spoke of it, but she hadn't heard of them before. Stephen on the other hand remained mostly silent. Evelyn could tell he was still upset about the tourney and she had nothing to say. Holli was riding a beautiful chestnut brown mare, that trotted like a royal stalion. Stephen's horse was also a majestic steed, white without a spot on it. Meanwhile Evelyn was riding Shadow, an old midnight black horse who had definitely seen better days.

The Trevelyan estate was a bit removed from the Ostwick city and was close to the Starkhaven border. It was very large and full of acres of open fields and gardens. The house itself was almost as big as a castle, and despite her distrust of nobles, Evelyn knew it had to be beautiful on the inside.

They reached a fork in the path to the house. Holli turned her horse around to face Stephen and Evelyn. "Brother, you go on ahead and let Father know we've returned. I'm going to show Evelyn where she'll be staying." she said. Stephen nodded, then continued forward down the current path. Evelyn looked down the path to the left.

"So it's the slaves' quarters for me?" she blurted out. Holli laughed.

"Far from it! You'll see." she said as she steered her horse down the left path. After a pause, Evelyn gave Shadow a pat and followed her.

After a few minutes of silence, a small cottage came into view. Holli lead her right to it, then dismounted her horse.

"Here it is!" she said.

It was tiny compared to the Trevelyan house, but still larger than any home Evelyn had known. It was only one story, but there was a large well next to it, a stable for her horse, and even a decently sized garden behind it. One of the trees in the front had bright red fruits hanging from it. Evelyn couldn't find any words to say, she thought she'd be living in some dark servant's quarters.

"I don't... this is..." Evelyn couldn't find words to say. Holli chuckled. Finally Evelyn cleared her throat and turned to face her. "I'll be honest, I don't know where this is going. I cheated in the Tourney, I got attacked by mercs, got hired to train a human, and now you're just giving me a house...?"

"Consider it more of a loan." said Holli. "This house once belonged to our house tutor. He was a great scholar and taught my siblings and I everything we know. Once we were all adults, he decided to move on with his life and I think he's now teaching for another noble family. I thought it fitting that you'd take up occupancy seeing as how you'll be teaching me." As Holli spoke, she crossed over to the tree and picked one of the red fruits and took a bite.

"You can just do that?" Evelyn asked. "You can just loan me a house on your estate?"

"I can." replied Holli. "My father is advancing in age, and since my older sisters are..." she paused, as if she wasn't sure how to say something. "Well, they're not going to inherit the estate. My father put me in charge of our lands and properties, so I can basically do whatever I want. Here, have an apple." She picked another fruit from the tree and tossed it to Evelyn.

"Even give a home on your estate to an elf?" asked Evelyn as she caught it.

"To a friend." said Holli, taking another bite.

"Is that what we are?" ask Evelyn.

"I hope so." replied Holli. "Well, I'll let you settle in and explore your new home. I'll be back in a few hours to check in on you." With a smile, she mounted her horse again and rode off. Evelyn stood there. The events of the day were finally starting to overwhelm her. She took a bite of the apple. It was delicious. Shadow trotted over and nudged her. Evelyn stroked his mane.

"Well, Shadow..." she said, her mouth full, "This is going to be interesting."

Next Chapter