another random prompt fill
Oct. 9th, 2011 06:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Bhelen Aeducan/Jowan - Save the one last dance
There is no other place in Ferelden for him to hide, so Jowan slides through the gates of Orzammar into the depths of the dwarven city to plead with the king for protection from the unyielding templar force chasing his blood. When he gets an audience, Bhelen is more amused than awed, but with a wave of his hand he grants Jowan a room in the palace and a job that surely even he can handle: entertainment. But there is also the idea that the king's enemies will be impressed by a maleficar included in court, and Jowan, gaunt and pale and taller than everyone else, is certainly strange enough to inspire concern among the nobles.
At come party, some event to celebrate Bhelen killing someone or other for something or other, Jowan stands by the throne and tries to look menacing. Bhelen grins up at him, then clamps his hand around Jowan's wrist to yank him down to eye level. "Wojech Ivo swears that you cast some sort of spell on him to lose the proving."
Jowan tries to find the warrior in the sea of dwarven faces, but the beards blend together. Bhelen grunts and his grip loosens but doesn't drop. "Spread fear, if it's easier than working magic. But I want to see what you're really capable of."
"Whenever you wish, Highness."
Bhelen stands - not that it makes any difference, it's not like he's any taller on his feet - and reaches for a cup to raise for a toast. The crowd silences immediately and turns toward him, waiting for his blessing like congregation at the chantry. Afterward when the music starts once more, Bhelen has Jowan brought to him again. "Stay until the end," he orders. "At the last dance I'll find you again and you'll tell me what you've learned. Don't mingle, but watch who you can. Maybe you can see more from your perspective."
Jowan murmurs that he will, of course he will, but Bhelen's attention is already elsewhere. He adds absently as Jowan is waved away, "You'll be spending the night with me, of course. So don't grow to attached to anyone."
Later, as dawn breaks outside, Jowan comes to Bhelen with his cache of secrets and spells and they walk in companionable silence to the royal chambers. He is surprised when Bhelen has the guards strip him - for the king's safety, they explain as their swords rip through his robes. He is surprised, but not much. Conversation progresses as normal, as if all Bhelen's discussions are done in the nude, until the guards are dismissed and Bhelen commands, not unkindly, for Jowan come to him. Even on his knees, Jowan is too tall, so Bhelen orders him to lie prostrate on the bed. By the time the guards return to announce that court will soon be in session, Jowan has solidified his place at Bhelen's side.
There is no other place in Ferelden for him to hide, so Jowan slides through the gates of Orzammar into the depths of the dwarven city to plead with the king for protection from the unyielding templar force chasing his blood. When he gets an audience, Bhelen is more amused than awed, but with a wave of his hand he grants Jowan a room in the palace and a job that surely even he can handle: entertainment. But there is also the idea that the king's enemies will be impressed by a maleficar included in court, and Jowan, gaunt and pale and taller than everyone else, is certainly strange enough to inspire concern among the nobles.
At come party, some event to celebrate Bhelen killing someone or other for something or other, Jowan stands by the throne and tries to look menacing. Bhelen grins up at him, then clamps his hand around Jowan's wrist to yank him down to eye level. "Wojech Ivo swears that you cast some sort of spell on him to lose the proving."
Jowan tries to find the warrior in the sea of dwarven faces, but the beards blend together. Bhelen grunts and his grip loosens but doesn't drop. "Spread fear, if it's easier than working magic. But I want to see what you're really capable of."
"Whenever you wish, Highness."
Bhelen stands - not that it makes any difference, it's not like he's any taller on his feet - and reaches for a cup to raise for a toast. The crowd silences immediately and turns toward him, waiting for his blessing like congregation at the chantry. Afterward when the music starts once more, Bhelen has Jowan brought to him again. "Stay until the end," he orders. "At the last dance I'll find you again and you'll tell me what you've learned. Don't mingle, but watch who you can. Maybe you can see more from your perspective."
Jowan murmurs that he will, of course he will, but Bhelen's attention is already elsewhere. He adds absently as Jowan is waved away, "You'll be spending the night with me, of course. So don't grow to attached to anyone."
Later, as dawn breaks outside, Jowan comes to Bhelen with his cache of secrets and spells and they walk in companionable silence to the royal chambers. He is surprised when Bhelen has the guards strip him - for the king's safety, they explain as their swords rip through his robes. He is surprised, but not much. Conversation progresses as normal, as if all Bhelen's discussions are done in the nude, until the guards are dismissed and Bhelen commands, not unkindly, for Jowan come to him. Even on his knees, Jowan is too tall, so Bhelen orders him to lie prostrate on the bed. By the time the guards return to announce that court will soon be in session, Jowan has solidified his place at Bhelen's side.