The Spider
I don't have wings
“Releon, as Alistair's chancellor, was the face most often seen at court. In truth, the chancellor ruled the nation, and did so with King Alistair's blessing. Whenever the chancellor left Denerim on personal affairs, the business of the court effectively came to a standstill.”
King Alistair's raw and calloused fingertips rubbed his forehead to relieve the tension brought on by the guards announcement, each word teeming with poisonous hatred. “Releon, hurry up already,” Alistair muttered too quietly for the dumb guard to hear. King Alistair's warhound and companion barked, stood up from the pillow sitting on the King's left side, and then growled at the guard, taking him aback.
“Down boy,” Alistair said, patting the dog's head. He knew the dog knew as well as anyone that this guard had no intentions of keeping any form of peace. This guard, like all of them, just wanted an excuse to kill a few elves.
“But the knife ears, Si-”
“Stop. Calling them. Knife ears, you piece of garbage.” The King barked out while still looking down with his head in his hand.
The dog lowered his head, locked his eyes on the guard once more, and gritted his teeth as he growled much more fiercely this time.
“The chancellor of this court is one of the elves of THAT particular Alienage. You will speak of the Hero of Ferelden's people with respect. Do I make myself clear?”
Alistair's eyes locked on the soldier as he pronounced each word with emphasis, if only because he hated the guards so much and at this point practically trusted them to be too imbecilic to understand.
“Y-y, yes your majesty,” the guard attempted to kneel when the King's Mabari leapt from its cushion with breakneck speed, and latched its vice-grip jaw on the guards ankle, making the guard yelp in a higher register than Alistair expected, giving the King a much needed belly laugh.
“Let him go, boy!” the King said between poorly stifled chuckles and laughs, before releasing another outrageous guffaw when he saw the guard began to tear up. The dog reluctantly released the guard, and the guard fell on his bottom, pouting and bracing his bleeding calf and mangled leather boot with both hands.
“You'll survive.” the King stated.“Get to the infirmary and get bandaged up, then back to your post. I don't want to hear another word about the Alienage from anyone else save for the knight commander. Dismissed.” The guard attempted to complain about how much his leg would hurt while he was on patrol, but Alistair began giggling again when he saw servants and other soldiers peeking in to investigate the noises, and as such, the guard's complaints were left unheard.
“You're a good dog, but you can't bite the guards without the King's permission. Understood?” Alistair said to the hound with locked eyes, while holding its jaw with his right hand. The hound cocked its head to the right, as if it suddenly didn't understand what Alistair had said.
“You know what I mean, you foolish dog. You might be smart, but I have thumbs.” He remarked with sass in his tone.
The hound responded by crouching its front legs and extending its behind into the air and panting happily. King Alistair stood from his throne and stretched, then ran his hand through his short blond hair. “That elf had better speed things up at Vigil's Keep. I'm starting to get worried...”
--
This story takes place after the events of Origins. An event in the Alienage is scaring the guards and they don't know what to do -- besides kill elves. The Hero of Ferelden is busy at Vigils Keep dealing with that which takes place in Awakening.
Who's up for it?
King Alistair's raw and calloused fingertips rubbed his forehead to relieve the tension brought on by the guards announcement, each word teeming with poisonous hatred. “Releon, hurry up already,” Alistair muttered too quietly for the dumb guard to hear. King Alistair's warhound and companion barked, stood up from the pillow sitting on the King's left side, and then growled at the guard, taking him aback.
“Down boy,” Alistair said, patting the dog's head. He knew the dog knew as well as anyone that this guard had no intentions of keeping any form of peace. This guard, like all of them, just wanted an excuse to kill a few elves.
“But the knife ears, Si-”
“Stop. Calling them. Knife ears, you piece of garbage.” The King barked out while still looking down with his head in his hand.
The dog lowered his head, locked his eyes on the guard once more, and gritted his teeth as he growled much more fiercely this time.
“The chancellor of this court is one of the elves of THAT particular Alienage. You will speak of the Hero of Ferelden's people with respect. Do I make myself clear?”
Alistair's eyes locked on the soldier as he pronounced each word with emphasis, if only because he hated the guards so much and at this point practically trusted them to be too imbecilic to understand.
“Y-y, yes your majesty,” the guard attempted to kneel when the King's Mabari leapt from its cushion with breakneck speed, and latched its vice-grip jaw on the guards ankle, making the guard yelp in a higher register than Alistair expected, giving the King a much needed belly laugh.
“Let him go, boy!” the King said between poorly stifled chuckles and laughs, before releasing another outrageous guffaw when he saw the guard began to tear up. The dog reluctantly released the guard, and the guard fell on his bottom, pouting and bracing his bleeding calf and mangled leather boot with both hands.
“You'll survive.” the King stated.“Get to the infirmary and get bandaged up, then back to your post. I don't want to hear another word about the Alienage from anyone else save for the knight commander. Dismissed.” The guard attempted to complain about how much his leg would hurt while he was on patrol, but Alistair began giggling again when he saw servants and other soldiers peeking in to investigate the noises, and as such, the guard's complaints were left unheard.
“You're a good dog, but you can't bite the guards without the King's permission. Understood?” Alistair said to the hound with locked eyes, while holding its jaw with his right hand. The hound cocked its head to the right, as if it suddenly didn't understand what Alistair had said.
“You know what I mean, you foolish dog. You might be smart, but I have thumbs.” He remarked with sass in his tone.
The hound responded by crouching its front legs and extending its behind into the air and panting happily. King Alistair stood from his throne and stretched, then ran his hand through his short blond hair. “That elf had better speed things up at Vigil's Keep. I'm starting to get worried...”
--
This story takes place after the events of Origins. An event in the Alienage is scaring the guards and they don't know what to do -- besides kill elves. The Hero of Ferelden is busy at Vigils Keep dealing with that which takes place in Awakening.
Who's up for it?
