Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 15, 2018 12:09:48 GMT 10
Title: Revelations
Rating: PG-13 for non-graphic violence
For: Rosie
Prompt: Duke Gareth and the imperious Duchess with a very slight festive twist.
Summary: The Duke and Duchess of Naxen react to the revelations of Roger's betrayal and Alan's true identity.
Notes: Happy Wishing Tree! I hope you enjoy this Naxen-focused fic.
Revelations
Before
Gareth prowled like a caged lion in a menagerie beneath the boughs of Midwinter holly which seemed too festive when he was brooding over death and treason. The evidence against Duke Roger that Alan of Trebond had presented before the court had been as convincing as it was condemning. As Prime Minister, Gareth should have spoken up, affirming it as indisputable. As King’s Champion, he should have challenged Roger of Conte to a duel instead of leaving that to a young knight whose shield hadn’t even dried yet. He had failed in his duties as Prime Minister and as King’s Champion because he had been too busy being a brother to his little sister, comforting her as she cried into his shoulder...He had failed so Roger of Conte might live despite his crime, and Alan of Trebond might die due to Gareth’s negligence...
“Stop pacing.” Roanna’s tersest tone cut through his self-recriminations. “You’ll wear out the floor.”
“These stones have stood for hundreds of years.” Gareth could feel the implacability of the stones beneath his feet that would be here long after he was gone and the horrors of this Midwinter night had faded into history to be studied by bored pages generations in the future. “They’ll stand for hundreds more.”
“Relax.” Roanna grasped his arm as he passed her again.
“I don’t want to relax.” Gareth’s hands itched with the desire to pull out his sword and hunt down the treacherous Duke of Conte. “I want to eviscerate Roger of Conte.”
“Soon you’ll see young Alan of Trebond eviscerate Roger of Conte.” Roanna’s crispness couldn’t be a consolation to Gareth when he knew how battered Alan had to be after his Ordeal and how deft a fencer Roger was. As if she could read the doubt on his face, she arched an eyebrow. “Do you question young Trebond’s ability to defeat the Duke of Conte? You taught young Trebond everything he knows about swordfighting.”
“I taught him everything he knows about swordfighting. I haven’t taught him everything I know about swordfighting.” Gareth saw Timon standing in the shadows cast by the flickering fire in the hearth, and inspiration struck swift as a sword. “Go help Alan prepare for his duel, Timon. He needs you more than I do now.”
“At once, Your Grace.” Timon bowed and hurried off. As he watched Timon disappear, Gareth hoped that what help he could provide Alan before the duel would be enough.
“You’ve looked after Alan now so you might spare a thought to looking after your sister.” Roanna jerked her chin reproachfully toward the corner where Lianne worried with a lace handkerchief as Roald held her close.
Shamed again, Gareth crossed the room in time to hear his sister say softly to her husband, “I don’t want to believe that Roger was using such dark magic against us when we have always been so kind to him.”
That was Lianne, Gareth thought. She wasn’t a cynic like him. Instead she saw the best in everyone. She couldn’t understand the greed, the jealousy, or the craving for power that had driven Roger of Conte for as long as Gareth could remember.
“Yet I don’t understand why Alan of Trebond would lie about Roger’s guilt.” Lianne shook her head. “He’s one of Jon’s most faithful friends. He even saved Jon’s life during the dreadful Sweating Sickness.”
“The trial by combat will decide who is in the right and who is in the wrong, my dear.” Roald refused to be anything but determinedly neutral even when it was Lianne’s life on the line, and Gareth wasn’t certain he would ever be able to forgive his brother-in-law for that even if he remained eternally loyal to his king. “It’s in the hands of the gods, not us mere mortals. We must trust in the gods that justice will be done.”
Gareth had the blasphemous notion that he had seen many mere mortals but never a god win a trial by combat, but he didn’t voice it aloud. The court was in enough chaos without him risking a smiting from a deity provoked by his irreverence.
After
When Roger was killed, the shock of his death somehow rattled the court even more than the revelation of his betrayal had. Roger’s death combined with the reveal that Alan of Trebond was in fact Alanna of Trebond had set the court reeling. Gareth himself was wondering how he had been such a blind fool when he had even received a note with the wrong name that should have told him Alan of Trebond wasn’t whom he claimed to be. He had been outmaneuvered because he had been willing to believe any tale about the late Lord Alan’s neglect and absent-mindedness. He had been so quick to fall for the hint of pain it had seemed Alan of Trebond was trying to hide behind a stoic mask when the true secret had been that Alan of Trebond was a girl.
“I was outfoxed by a ten-year-old girl,” Gareth muttered to Roanna, frustrated with his own folly. “I ought to resign in shame.”
“You’d throw the court into even more turmoil.” Roanna gripped his shoulders, more adamant than comforting. “The realm needs you to be steady now more than ever.”
“Gary knew Alan of Trebond was a girl but he never told me.” Gareth’s jaw clenched as he spoke of the betrayal that had somehow hurt him the most. As soon as Roger had revealed Alan of Trebond’s true identity, Gareth had known that his son, who had been one of the knights to advise Alan before the Ordeal, must have been trusted with Alan’s secret, but that hadn’t made the fist that squeezed Gareth’s heart any less tight when Gary confirmed this was so before the entire gasping and gaping court. “I didn’t harbor the delusion that he told me everything, but I did think he told me the important things.”
He had believed that despite any disagreements–despite any mischief Gary might concoct–he had a good relationship with his son. The idea that his son might feel otherwise hurt.
“Perhaps he didn’t think it was important.” Why Roanna had chosen this inopportune moment to defend their child was beyond Gareth’s comprehension. “Perhaps he thought it was a funny joke at the whole court’s expense.”
“This scandal will divide the court for years.” Gareth scowled. “I plan to tell him what a funny joke I think that is as Prime Minister.”
“Perhaps he thought this Alanna of Trebond’s true identity wasn’t his secret to tell.” Roanna shrugged as if they were discussing a trifling matter rather than a scandal with consequences that could span years. “Perhaps he thought that this Alanna of Trebond’s friendship was more important than a court scandal.”
There wasn’t much Gareth could say in response to that argument. He had, after all, always impressed the value of being a faithful friend on his son. Once again he had been outfoxed. Roanna emphasized this, pouring salt into his wound, by continuing, “Perhaps he was right. Perhaps Alanna of Trebond’s gender doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.” Gareth pinched his forehead. He remembered giving Alan of Trebond encouragement to fight Ralon of Malven when Ralon pounded into him, but he would never have given such advice to a little girl. He would never have left a little girl to fend for herself. He would have confronted any who bullied her as the laws of chivalry required. “I would have been more gallant if I had known she was a girl. I would have treated her with the respect owed a proper young lady.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Roanna elbowed him in the ribs. “I don’t think she wanted to be treated with the respect owed a proper young lady by you.”
“Hmm.” Gareth considered this then remarked dryly, “I’ve made the habit of calling her lad. I suppose I’ll have to change that if nothing else.”
“Her shield is a lioness rampant.” Roanna seemed to approve of the animal on Alanna’s shield. “Lioness has a dramatic air to it.”
“You know me.” Gareth’s lips quirked wryly. “I always strive to cultivate a dramatic air.”
Rating: PG-13 for non-graphic violence
For: Rosie
Prompt: Duke Gareth and the imperious Duchess with a very slight festive twist.
Summary: The Duke and Duchess of Naxen react to the revelations of Roger's betrayal and Alan's true identity.
Notes: Happy Wishing Tree! I hope you enjoy this Naxen-focused fic.
Revelations
Before
Gareth prowled like a caged lion in a menagerie beneath the boughs of Midwinter holly which seemed too festive when he was brooding over death and treason. The evidence against Duke Roger that Alan of Trebond had presented before the court had been as convincing as it was condemning. As Prime Minister, Gareth should have spoken up, affirming it as indisputable. As King’s Champion, he should have challenged Roger of Conte to a duel instead of leaving that to a young knight whose shield hadn’t even dried yet. He had failed in his duties as Prime Minister and as King’s Champion because he had been too busy being a brother to his little sister, comforting her as she cried into his shoulder...He had failed so Roger of Conte might live despite his crime, and Alan of Trebond might die due to Gareth’s negligence...
“Stop pacing.” Roanna’s tersest tone cut through his self-recriminations. “You’ll wear out the floor.”
“These stones have stood for hundreds of years.” Gareth could feel the implacability of the stones beneath his feet that would be here long after he was gone and the horrors of this Midwinter night had faded into history to be studied by bored pages generations in the future. “They’ll stand for hundreds more.”
“Relax.” Roanna grasped his arm as he passed her again.
“I don’t want to relax.” Gareth’s hands itched with the desire to pull out his sword and hunt down the treacherous Duke of Conte. “I want to eviscerate Roger of Conte.”
“Soon you’ll see young Alan of Trebond eviscerate Roger of Conte.” Roanna’s crispness couldn’t be a consolation to Gareth when he knew how battered Alan had to be after his Ordeal and how deft a fencer Roger was. As if she could read the doubt on his face, she arched an eyebrow. “Do you question young Trebond’s ability to defeat the Duke of Conte? You taught young Trebond everything he knows about swordfighting.”
“I taught him everything he knows about swordfighting. I haven’t taught him everything I know about swordfighting.” Gareth saw Timon standing in the shadows cast by the flickering fire in the hearth, and inspiration struck swift as a sword. “Go help Alan prepare for his duel, Timon. He needs you more than I do now.”
“At once, Your Grace.” Timon bowed and hurried off. As he watched Timon disappear, Gareth hoped that what help he could provide Alan before the duel would be enough.
“You’ve looked after Alan now so you might spare a thought to looking after your sister.” Roanna jerked her chin reproachfully toward the corner where Lianne worried with a lace handkerchief as Roald held her close.
Shamed again, Gareth crossed the room in time to hear his sister say softly to her husband, “I don’t want to believe that Roger was using such dark magic against us when we have always been so kind to him.”
That was Lianne, Gareth thought. She wasn’t a cynic like him. Instead she saw the best in everyone. She couldn’t understand the greed, the jealousy, or the craving for power that had driven Roger of Conte for as long as Gareth could remember.
“Yet I don’t understand why Alan of Trebond would lie about Roger’s guilt.” Lianne shook her head. “He’s one of Jon’s most faithful friends. He even saved Jon’s life during the dreadful Sweating Sickness.”
“The trial by combat will decide who is in the right and who is in the wrong, my dear.” Roald refused to be anything but determinedly neutral even when it was Lianne’s life on the line, and Gareth wasn’t certain he would ever be able to forgive his brother-in-law for that even if he remained eternally loyal to his king. “It’s in the hands of the gods, not us mere mortals. We must trust in the gods that justice will be done.”
Gareth had the blasphemous notion that he had seen many mere mortals but never a god win a trial by combat, but he didn’t voice it aloud. The court was in enough chaos without him risking a smiting from a deity provoked by his irreverence.
After
When Roger was killed, the shock of his death somehow rattled the court even more than the revelation of his betrayal had. Roger’s death combined with the reveal that Alan of Trebond was in fact Alanna of Trebond had set the court reeling. Gareth himself was wondering how he had been such a blind fool when he had even received a note with the wrong name that should have told him Alan of Trebond wasn’t whom he claimed to be. He had been outmaneuvered because he had been willing to believe any tale about the late Lord Alan’s neglect and absent-mindedness. He had been so quick to fall for the hint of pain it had seemed Alan of Trebond was trying to hide behind a stoic mask when the true secret had been that Alan of Trebond was a girl.
“I was outfoxed by a ten-year-old girl,” Gareth muttered to Roanna, frustrated with his own folly. “I ought to resign in shame.”
“You’d throw the court into even more turmoil.” Roanna gripped his shoulders, more adamant than comforting. “The realm needs you to be steady now more than ever.”
“Gary knew Alan of Trebond was a girl but he never told me.” Gareth’s jaw clenched as he spoke of the betrayal that had somehow hurt him the most. As soon as Roger had revealed Alan of Trebond’s true identity, Gareth had known that his son, who had been one of the knights to advise Alan before the Ordeal, must have been trusted with Alan’s secret, but that hadn’t made the fist that squeezed Gareth’s heart any less tight when Gary confirmed this was so before the entire gasping and gaping court. “I didn’t harbor the delusion that he told me everything, but I did think he told me the important things.”
He had believed that despite any disagreements–despite any mischief Gary might concoct–he had a good relationship with his son. The idea that his son might feel otherwise hurt.
“Perhaps he didn’t think it was important.” Why Roanna had chosen this inopportune moment to defend their child was beyond Gareth’s comprehension. “Perhaps he thought it was a funny joke at the whole court’s expense.”
“This scandal will divide the court for years.” Gareth scowled. “I plan to tell him what a funny joke I think that is as Prime Minister.”
“Perhaps he thought this Alanna of Trebond’s true identity wasn’t his secret to tell.” Roanna shrugged as if they were discussing a trifling matter rather than a scandal with consequences that could span years. “Perhaps he thought that this Alanna of Trebond’s friendship was more important than a court scandal.”
There wasn’t much Gareth could say in response to that argument. He had, after all, always impressed the value of being a faithful friend on his son. Once again he had been outfoxed. Roanna emphasized this, pouring salt into his wound, by continuing, “Perhaps he was right. Perhaps Alanna of Trebond’s gender doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.” Gareth pinched his forehead. He remembered giving Alan of Trebond encouragement to fight Ralon of Malven when Ralon pounded into him, but he would never have given such advice to a little girl. He would never have left a little girl to fend for herself. He would have confronted any who bullied her as the laws of chivalry required. “I would have been more gallant if I had known she was a girl. I would have treated her with the respect owed a proper young lady.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Roanna elbowed him in the ribs. “I don’t think she wanted to be treated with the respect owed a proper young lady by you.”
“Hmm.” Gareth considered this then remarked dryly, “I’ve made the habit of calling her lad. I suppose I’ll have to change that if nothing else.”
“Her shield is a lioness rampant.” Roanna seemed to approve of the animal on Alanna’s shield. “Lioness has a dramatic air to it.”
“You know me.” Gareth’s lips quirked wryly. “I always strive to cultivate a dramatic air.”