Harvest - 9 (Patreon)

Aderic and Celestine only remained with us in the Crowley townhouse for a single night, the bare rundown of their discussion with Darius keeping me in the loop as to the Order of Amber’s plan for handling the offer of royal sponsorship before they were forced to leave; ignoring an invitation to the palace issued by the king and queen, ahead of a ball ostensibly in our honour, wasn't something that could be done at this stage.

Or any stage, really.

I knew the crown's hope of bringing us under their umbrella, a royal institution like the Royal Alchemical Society, wasn't going to be accepted. Aderic desired something more akin to the Church of Dawn, beholden to the laws of the land and with duties to its people but independent of any particular noble, or royal, house.

Whether or not the speakers could possibly achieve that was another matter. My position in the Crowley carriage along with Darius and Lorna traveling towards the Wendwater Palace was something of a fallback, an indication of our ties to the duke and his support for us during our efforts to save the harvest – what the capital had dubbed the Harvest Miracle. It was hard to tell exactly what Darius thought of it, of our desire for independence; he certainly hadn't voiced his opinions to me and if Lorna knew, she was keeping them close to her chest.

Putting the frustratingly complicated matters of the politics I'd found myself tangled up in out of my mind for a moment, I watched as we approached the bridge leading to the palace. Located on an island in the Northgate River it was entirely segregated from the city, with extensive gardens and even small orchards and copses of trees shielding it from the space outside.

The stone piers and cannon emplacements that defended the island had their guns aimed towards the sky, matching the firework barges that had been strung up and down the river between the island and the city. The king wasn't sparing much in turning tonight into a spectacle to be remembered, and not just for the nobility; behind us the revelry had already begun; the Greymane Quarter opened for guests, pavilions erected where drink flowed freely, and stands had been erected all along the waterfront so all the residents of Gilneas could watch the display.

Looking at the city now, with the thousands of gas lamps illuminating the streets and the great crowd of people, I could almost imagine I was in London back on Earth. The architecture was wrong, the clothing, the carriages, but just the sight of all the shining windows that defied the dark of night made me remember my old world.

"Gwyneth, there are a few individuals I will be introducing you to tonight." Darius said, drawing my attention away from the window. With politics. "Lady Tulvan has expressed her frustrations with Godfrey to me but has yet to pick a side; I wish for you to garner sympathy if you are able. Lord Candren is a firm supporter of mine but as one of the major sponsors of the Kalimdor Expedition..."

Glancing at Vivi as he continued on, the girl I had hoped to be the only person I spent much time with this evening, I held back a sigh. At least he was briefing me rather than throwing me in the deep end. And it was a stupid hope anyway; I knew it would never happen.

"Will there be any problems like with Isobel?" I asked when he was done. "Or..."

"No." He said, shaking his head confidently. "Gossip has already spread of your relationship and it will not be unexpected. If Vivianne were an only child, or you were not a witch... wielders of magic are always eccentric in their own way. Many will form assumptions based on your behaviour tonight, even more so than the speakers themselves. They are those who rule and must put on a mask; you are representative of the whole of your order, not merely those that face outward."

I fingered the star that held my bead of amber, now hanging from a truesilver chain Lorna had given me as my Winter's Veil gift for this year. "So. No pressure." I laughed unhappily. "Fun." I dropped the necklace, the warm pulse of familiar magic seeping into my skin as it landed between my breasts, and leaned back resignedly. "So much fun."

Having addressed the king in front of so much of his court already one would think I would be fine with this, but no. Lord Renard and Rokkri should be considered more intimidating. But... I hadn't been setting precedent then. Or, no, I had, I just hadn't been aware of it at the time.

"I'll be right beside you, I've got your dagger with me if we need to stab someone to get away." Vivi said, putting her black-gloved hand on my knee. "It's in my pouch under my dress; you'll be fine. I believe in you."

Blushing deeply my eyes tracked up and down her body, her bare shoulders and form-fitting dress having no space for pockets let alone somewhere to hide a pouch. Lorna could've hidden hers in her bust, but... Vivi was sleek. "Your legs?" I said, spotting a black band around her thigh visible through the side slit of her dress. Keepers, just the hint of leg while she was sitting was tantalising.

When we started dancing she was going to stun everyone who kept to the stuffy and conservative style that had been the norm for a century or more. Her appearance was only made better by the permanent blush she had been sporting since she put it on.

And I could certainly appreciate her putting in the effort to carry the weapon she had made for me, her gift to me for Winter's Veil, with her so I would have it on hand if it was needed. The gorgeous mithril blade with its inscribed runes – the rune for Blessing, my name, featuring prominently – and constellations, the pommel inset with amber, was something I was going to have to learn to use properly. Both to defend myself with and for casting through; Vivi had made something magical, literally, with her efforts.

"Why am I not surprised that this is your takeaway from that?" Lorna said incredulously. "Not that she suggested stabbing people. No, you fixate on her legs."

"I was thinking about the dagger too!" I protested distractedly.

Darius let out a deep chuckle and closed his eye. "Considering the environment we will soon be entering I understand Vivianne's sentiment entirely. Many a time I have considered murder to escape an undesirable conversation. I have faith in you, Gwyneth. You may not enjoy the experience, but I have faith in your ability to succeed."

"I wasn't worried about succeeding." I said, taking Vivi's hand and sighing. "But I promise you, I won't enjoy it at all."

-oOoOo-

"Announcing Lord Darius Crowley, Duke of the Pyremarsh and Amber Wood, Warden of the Wall, and Lord of the Northgate Woods and his Heir Presumptive, Lady Lorna Crowley!" The herald yelled out over the din of talking guests. "Accompanying are the Lady Vivianne Mistmantle of Northglade and Inventor-Witch Gwyneth Arevin of Crowford!"

Thanks to Darius' status as one of the highest-ranking nobles in Gilneas we got the honour of being the centre of attention as Darius led the way down the grand staircase into the hall below. Just to make more of a show of things we had been led upstairs so that we could descend into the hall, like all the dukes would, with those arriving later being given more clout rather than less. Only when the royals themselves, along with the guests of honour – Aderic and Celestine – followed suit would the ball truly begin in earnest.

Court politics were, in my rather happily plebeian opinion, utter nonsense at times. But I couldn't deny that having the entire hall's attention turn to us, and then fixate on me and Vivi as we walked arm in arm down the stairs, wasn't flattering. I could hear conversations shift, turning towards the Harvest Miracle and what little they knew about witches and the Order of Amber – as well as some comments as to our attire.

"Darius! And dear Lorna. My you are more lovely than last I saw you, my dear." A somewhat portly man with a wide smile approached us, excluding geniality. He didn't bow or genuflect, merely holding his suit jacket and nodding his head; which Darius returned stoically. "And this must be the witch I have heard so much about. Darius, old friend, you truly stole a march on us all with her. I've had my dealings with witches in the past but never thought to hire one on permanently!"

There was something familiar about the man, something I couldn't quite place. But I'd definitely seen him before, a long time ago, and... someone else that looked like him?

"I was quite surprised to learn they weren't as the stories said." Darius replied, allowing himself to smile. "Of course, in my youth I believed the stories my grandmother told me about the Wildhammers also, only to find them false during the war. Tall tales can make fools of the wisest men if they do not take the time to examine them."

"Hah! My wife was appalled when my boy came across one of those riders, got himself sickeningly drunk, and thought he had gotten into one of their, well–" Lord Candren said, his words clicking in my head to place him. He glanced at myself, Vivi, and Lorna before grinning. "Something not suitable for polite company."

Darius snorted and shook his head. "Frank Candren, Duke of the Headlands and the Bite, might I introduce Gwyneth Arevin and Vivianne Mistmantle, my witch and her escort tonight."

"A pleasure to meet you again, Lord Candren." I said, curtsying lightly. "Might I ask if the roses my mother cared for have fared well over the last few years?"

He looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh!" He exclaimed, brightening suddenly. "Oh my, yes, I remember. Irwen, Irwen Arevin. Of course, of course, how could I forget! Ah, if only I had taken the two of you on for myself." Despite his self-recrimination he didn't look at all put out. "The roses are doing wonderfully, as they have done since I first hired your mother for her work. My wife adores them as she always has; alas winter is not a time for roses to bloom. The pleasure of meeting you again is all mine, dear girl." Chuckling deeply he adjusted his coat. "And in that I speak truthfully! A rare pleasure in times such as these."

Smiling impishly I reached up for the flowers in my hair, letting the fines crawl out over my fingers. "It has become a habit of mine to offer roses as a gift. Here, for your wife; the patronage you offered many years ago was a blessing to my career as an inventor. Even if I forgot to patent my first one." I held out a rose for him to take, silently evaluating the soft whispers that followed my showing of magic.

There was clear interest in what I had just done, with eyes tracking to the red rose Lorna wore in her hair after all these years and realising its origin. Witches weren't just good for growing wheat, this told them, we were good for beautiful things as well.

I knew, even if it was somewhat galling, that this form of magic would attract more attention from a wider range of the nobility. An opportunity for them to exploit a new avenue of one-upmanship and excess that titillated their minds where mundane practicalities such as feeding their people might seem boring. Even if it was distasteful, it was still useful; healing would always be something we had to compete with the church for, and famines weren't an omnipresent threat. Being the most ostentatious noble around, however, would never stop being in vogue.

"My oh my," Lord Candren said, taking the flower, his hands showing more care than I expected as he handled the thorny plant, "my Camille will love this." He sniffed the flower deeply and grinned. "Come, come! I must introduce you."

"I've business with Lord Walden, so I shall leave them in your care." Darius said with a nod. "Good eve and fair tomorrows, Frank."

"And fair tomorrows to you, Darius." Lord Candren returned, offering me his arm and leading me and Vivi towards his family.

His son had grown up some since I had last seen him; a trim moustache on his face and a more mature haircut than the still boyish look he had sported before. Introductions were a quick affair; Arnold and Denice weren't names I was likely to remember going into the future, but I might recall the way she fussed over the flower her husband offered her and the pure sappiness that accompanied it.

The conversation naturally started on my status as a witch, and with being urged to speak on my history with roses as Lady Candren admired hers. Vivi was happy to supply the story of my mishap in offering Lorna a red rose as a child, and the joke she had played on me in pretending to take it as an offer of courtship. It only took a few moments for her to burst out giggling at my expense, the same as she did back then.

While we were talking a few of Gilneas' other dukes were announced, and I made a point to memorise the face of Lady Tulvan; an old greying woman with heavy laugh lines that was escorted by the Archbishop of Dawn.

"It is a shame Alicia is not here today." Lord Candren said, swilling a glass of wine idly. I'd declined the drinks on offer so far; I still wasn't comfortable with the idea of accepting them. "My daughter," he continued at my confused expression, "she followed the family tradition in joining the navy. I am the Sea Lord of the Bite after all!" His jovial expression faded into a scowl. "Was the sea lord before all this isolation business. Bah."

"Husband," Lady Candren chastised him, looking around with a frown. "But yes, our daughter would have been fascinated. While she is less inclined towards sailing than a proper Candren, Alicia has truly inherited the family spark. Had she witnessed the rains your order called she would have sought to hire you for the expedition immediately. Our very own Tidesages at long last."

"You think we could spell the wind like they do?" I asked, mulling it over myself. Obviously we could, to a degree, Heather and her mother had been doing it on Emberstone Lake for years.

Vivi rolled her eyes. "Of course you can; you've been talking to the wind for years. And it listens too." She added, almost as an afterthought so I wouldn't sound crazy.

It wasn't a terrible thought, a witch would undoubtedly do better at passing a message along to the night elves, Tyrande, Cenarius, or Malfurion if it came down to it. I'm sure Lord Renard would inscribe some sort of message for them to carry as well; the question, however, was who. Heather was an obvious choice, I trusted her enough to tell her everything even if I hadn't done so yet, and she had experience with sailing. But it would be a life of adventure she didn't desire nor was she suited for.

"You've been doing it for over a year now too." I prodded her lightly. "I'll speak to some of my fellows; an expedition to Ancient Kalimdor, where the Wild Gods roam... it would be a way to connect with some of our gods long forgotten."

Arnold raised an eyebrow curiously. "Your people have stories of Kalimdor?"

I laughed and started up the tale of Malorne and Elune, the White Stag and the Moon, and how it birthed Cenarius the favourite child of nature. Much as with the last time I told the tale I doubted they believed much of it, but there was something in Lord Candren's eye that told me he was listening intently. Portly, jovial, and friendly or not he didn't seem to be a fool.

Our conversation had dragged on long enough that after the tale I begged leave to take a breather, to speak with others; somewhere in the din I'd heard mention of another inventor being present and I was decently curious.

-oOoOo-

"Announcing His Royal Majesty, the Protector of Gilneas, Lord of all Gilneans, Heir to Aderic Wolfheart's Legacy, King Genn Greymane!" The herald boomed, trumpets sounding and forcing the hall into silence for the first time since we had arrived over an hour and a half ago; the seventh bell had tolled and the ball proper was finally going to be betting underway. "And Her Royal Majesty, Lady of Duskhaven, Mother of the People, Queen-Consort Mia Greymane!"

The royal couple descended the stairs into the hall arm in arm, looking every part the royal couple. For all the faults I could find with Genn not looking the part of king was not one of them; he wore his suit with aplomb and taste rather than the gaudy mess that some of the nobles I had spoken with sported. Mia followed suit, keeping herself to a simple – if exceptionally well fitted and made – white dress with gold trim and a necklace of pearls. She was the shining, pristine, queen who was beloved by the people beside the dour and stoic king who ruled over us all.

They managed to weave their roles as the hard and soft touch into not just their actions, but the way they dressed, spoke, and even moved. If I hadn't taken lessons with Lorna over the years I would never have even noticed half of what they were projecting even if I would certainly be taken in by it.

Well, also assuming I didn't have the immense – and deserved – bias against the king that I had.

"His Royal Highness, the Prince of Duskmist, Prince Liam Greymane!" The announcer continued as Liam Greymane followed his parents down the stairs. Compared to his greying – though not yet fully grey – parents, his orange hair stood out and matched what his mother must have been in the past. The princess, young as she was, wasn't present with them. "Before the guests of honour arrive, his majesty has prepared a speech!"

"My dear countrymen, my loyal lords and ladies," Genn started, his arms held behind his back as he looked out over the crowd of nobility, "my clever inventors, it is no secret why I have gathered you all here today, on the last day of this most auspicious year. Beyond the great wall that now shields our kingdom, horror has ravaged the lands, a fate we seemed doomed to follow until proud Gilneas stepped forward to prevent it. Where the Alliance failed to uphold their promises to their own, where Lordaeron fell to ruin due to plague, Gilneas triumphed. Famine came for our land and was found wanting. We stand strong, we stand defiant, and above all, we stand proud."

"Where we might have faced the threat of starving children," Queen Mia said, her hands clasped together and sounding like the very thought of the words hurt her, "of the most needy of our people unable to support themselves through no fault of our own, we have instead an abundance. A wealth of plenty that threatens to overfill stores and leave farmers with little to do in the year to come."

"It is those that I present to you now, that unveiled themselves after centuries of secrecy due to the unwarranted prosecution brought about by the Lordainian Inquisition, whom we must thank." Genn turned, raising his head towards the stairs and directing all of our attention upward. "I bid that all welcome those who have served Gilneas faithfully since before there was a Gilneas to serve."

"Give welcome to the guests of honour, Witch Aderic Longtooth, Fox Speaker of the Order of Amber, and Witch Celestine Tolbecker, Speaker of Ravens of the Order of Amber!" The Herald cried as the pair began their way down the stairs. "Those who orchestrated the Harvest Miracle that spared Gilneas from famine and enriched us all!"

Aderic was once again dressed in his furs and mask, drawing stares and attention due to looking like nothing more than a barbarian that had only recently dragged themselves out of the savage wilderness. And yet, he looked quite comfortable. An easy smile on his face that hid his true emotions, and sparkling eyes that surveyed the attitude of the room and paused for only a moment to wink to me. As the hall erupted with applause at their entrance, his lips only quirked slightly with amusement.

I could almost taste the smugness radiating off of him, the hilarity he found in having the noblest and most important of all of Gilneas applauding the entrance of a man who dressed without a single care to their belief in social norms and flaunted them from his head to his toes.

Celestine was, competitively, stiff. She still held herself well but her motions weren't as fluid and she didn't hold the same confidence as Aderic. Her attire was surely part of it; gone was the simple dress she had worn, and though the new one was in much the same style, it was far finer. Still rugged and of hard-woven cloth, but with a finish and quality that far surpassed what she could afford alone. Over it all she wore a cloak of sheer black feathers, raven feathers, which reminded me of no one else than the Prophet Medivh himself.

It was entirely fitting for the Speaker of Ravens, but even with the stalks of wheat she wore in her hair it was clear she was out of her element and not wholly comfortable in what she wore.

They stopped beside the royal couple, bowing and curtsying formally, before turning away and towards the crowd that held their breath. No one here – save myself – knew what came next. What it meant was that witches had entered high society. Some had thoughts, like the Archbishop of Dawn, who wore a flat facade over his frustration; I had spoken with him in an attempt to reach Lady Tulvan and only received further pressure to place the Order of Amber under the umbrella of the church.

Lifting the mask from his head and holding it in front of him Aderic hummed, his magic rising for a moment. "Over the course of this life of mine I have seen many things. I have lived through three kings, through a changing Gilneas, through the fires of industry that came for my home village and changed it forever." He said conversationally, as if he were speaking to a close friend rather than a crowd of nobles. "Yet, though so many things have been beyond my imagination, standing here today I still feel surprise." He didn't. The way his eyes were sparkling were far too fox-like for him to be feeling anything but amusement right now.

“It makes me sincerely glad to see our kin accepted by the kingdom of Gilneas in ways we had not thought possible for centuries. Since before there was a Gilneas, since a time before Arathor, we have been here. Upholding the Old Ways and the Old Faith, tending to the Gilan Tribes who gave this peninsula its name. When the empire came, where the press of the Light and of the Arcane slowly wiped away our kin in other lands, we found a refuge amongst the eternally stubborn Gilan Peoples who refused to bend the knee against the tyranny of Strom.” Aderic smiled toothily, holding the mask to his chest. “A stubbornness that continues to this day. A cornerstone of our society; Gilneans, just the Gilan Peoples of old, do not bend, they do not break; they stand defiant. Against a storm, against a conquering empire, against a charging bear, or even against famine itself.”

Genn let out a grunt, his moustache twitching. It wasn't aggravation but approval that radiated from the king. The narrative that was being woven was one he approved of greatly.

"If you would indulge me, let me speak of the Old Faith, of one of the Gods of Yore." Aderic paused, waiting for any interruption. There was a slight murmur from around the archbishop but none came. "Wolfheart, the Heart of a Wolf. It is a tale from long, long ago, a tale from when the world was still whole. Passed down and kept alive even to this day; a tale of Goldrinn, the Great Wolf. When the world was beset by demons, like those that the foul Horde brought with them, he amongst the other Gods of the Wild stood against them. Yet none could match his fury, his unyielding will, his stubborn defiance against even death. When King Aderic stood against Arathor and freed our people from their yoke, our ancestors stood beside him."

He pointed out into the room, sweeping his hand across the nobles. "Yours," he said, turning his hand to himself and Celestine, "and mine. In honour of his will to see our people independent once more we called him Wolfheart. His was the fury that defends children from abuse, his was the will that broke chains, his was the defiance that rallied our people. And evermore did he take the symbol of the wolf for his house, in memory of that long lost god of our people."

There was a degree of bullshit to Aderic's speech. While we were reasonably sure that witches had supported the first king's efforts to throw off Arathor's choking presence there was a lot of doubt around whether we had any involvement in the wolf sigil of the Greyamens or the Wolfheart title. Lord Renard was a source for information on Goldrinn, and back then the witches had been far more plentiful and influential than they were today, but that didn't mean they were a great power. Had we truly been so involved in the formation of the kingdom we would have been recognised then instead of now.

But, it wove a pretty tale, and one the king was eating up happily. As were the majority of the nobles in attendance.

"It is with pride that I wear the name of our founder. It was given to me in his honour, and my title of Longtooth, though hardly of the same calibre of Wolfheart, lets me feel a little closer to the ancient king who freed us all." Pulling his mask over his face, Aderic raised his hands into the air. "Let this year, this Year of the Wolf, be the year the ties of the Old Way and the Gilnean People are renewed."

"If, of course, it pleases the crown and the representatives of Gilneas." Celestine added, decidedly less exuberantly as she looked at the king. "The Order of Amber has and will continue to serve the people of Gilneas, as we always have. We merely ask to be allowed to work without the burden of secrecy once more."

Genn clasped her on the shoulder. "It was never in doubt. Let it be known that the Order of Amber has all the protections afforded to the Church of Dawn by the crown, as the eldest faith of Gilneas, the Old Ways and its practitioners, are accorded the same rights as those who worship and serve the Light!"

For a moment I was stunned by the fact we got the best-case scenario out of Genn, wondering how exactly Aderic and Celestine had achieved it, before I remembered myself and started clapping. The silence that had followed the proclamation quickly fell away as others followed suit, all but a scant few applauding the king's words.

There were plenty who looked more puzzled or confused, and enough that held a dour or angry look at the usurpation of the church's place as the sole religion of Gilneas, that it wasn't all going to be smooth sailing.

"Never again shall Gilneas have to bow to foreign powers for magical aid. Let Kul Tiras have their Tidesages, Stormwind their Conjurers, Dalaran their Mages, and Lordaeron their Paladins." Genn continued as the din of the applause died down. "We have our Order of Amber and they have proven their worth equal to them all."

I pulled Vivi into a hug, exhilaration rushing through me, and kissed her for all she was worth. While she was still dazed I started us spinning because I just couldn't stand still, too giddy from the feeling of success and accomplishment that came with the king's proclamations. This, this, was a true and tangible mark I had made on the world that would shape the way things went in the future. Not just the witches of Gilneas but the whole nation.

------

Chapter beta'd by Trestira.
Might be a delay on tomorrow's chapter; it is by no means done when I put this up for scheduled posting.