Chapter Text
Vangerdahast did not act rashly. That was not his way.
And he didn’t need to in this situation.
To begin with, no one at the table reacted at the announcement of the Willowcroft girl’s name. Most importantly, Queen Raedra did not recognize it.
Vangey was relieved at that. If the name was still unknown, then this century-and-a-half-old secret bloodline had not risen like a cursed phoenix from the ashes while the wizard had been dormant.
“I did take the liberty of looking into her a bit, Your Majesty,” the same advisor continued. “She isn’t from any noble line, but the Willowcrofts have been a well-regarded family since before the settling of Eveningstar.” The man carried on, explaining briefly what he’d uncovered.
A surviving member of the Willowcroft line that had suffered heavily during the Spellplague.
(The wizard felt another spark of unkind relief. If the family was hit during that terrible time, perhaps there weren’t many of King Azoun IV’s line still running about.)
The girl was a wood half-elf and a sorcerer.
The mixed lineage was a boon. There had never been an heir to the Dragon Throne, legitimate or otherwise, that had anything but human blood. (At least, that he knew of). Any claim by the girl would immediately be met with skepticism on that basis alone. Few Cormytes would be willing to accept a half-elf into the line of succession. It could easily be portrayed as returning the land of the Dragon Throne to the elves.
The sorcery was less ideal. They were well known for stirring up trouble and inciting the people. Mobs were easily persuaded by those born with power instead of those who earned it through dedicated practice.
The woman had been making her way as an adventurer for the last decade. That struck an unpleasant chord. Vangey could recall all too well the name Prince Azoun had made for himself just as an adventurer. The common folk flocked to him and cheered at his coronation because they already knew and loved him.
“And,” the man stood up a little straighter, as if with pride, and a warning went up Vangerdahast’s spine, “Willowcroft helped in both years of the war. She provided auxiliary support and worked with border patrols to defend towns from minor skirmishes with goblins and the like. There's even,” the man went on like he wasn’t filling Vangerdahast’s ears with the beginning of a buzzing migraine, “record of at least one medal for her service. An award for her dedicated defense of civilians.”
Another councilor across the table, an aging human woman with hair that was greyer than its original brown, hummed in thought.
“Perhaps this could be an opportunity? We could ask her to return to Suzail to be presented with another medal for service to the realm even outside our borders. Just a small, formal showing that associates her actions with Cormyr.” The woman waved a hand at the map of Faerûn laid out across the large table. “It wouldn’t due to let the western territories take credit for yet another legendary hero if they didn’t even breed this one.”
Several councilors nodded lightly.
Heroes. Champions.
They had ways of becoming symbols even if not their original intent. And they had ways of developing a lust for power and repute once they'd had their first bite.
“Perhaps,” he spoke for the first time int he meeting, “a bit of caution would serve us here.” The old wizard turned to his Queen. “While her record appears clean, there could be a less than noble past hidden outside those pages.” He glanced back over at the councilor still holding what was obviously a scant report before facing the blonde woman again. “Before we tie her to the crown, permit a bit more time to collect information, Your Majesty.” He faced the middle-aged councilor again. “Where is this young woman now?”
The man was frowning at him, but looked back to his paperwork. “She is staying in Baldur's Gate for the moment. By all accounts she's part of the rebuilding process.”
“Then we have time,” Vangerdahast turned back to his queen once more. “Let us make sure she has no secrets in the shadows, Your Majesty,” and the wizard let his eyes narrow tellingly. “Before we bring her back to the capital.”
Queen Raedra's eyes grew slightly cold at the barely concealed reference to her brief and devastating marriage. The young princess Raedra, eighteen and in love, had pledged herself to an undercover Sharran whose true intentions had only been discovered after the royal wedding. Vangerdahast had not been alive at the time of the princess’s ill-done marriage. He was certain he could have sniffed out the traitor’s true intentions before the princess was caught up in it. But he had nothing but respect for Queen Raedra’s immediate and unequivocal action; she had ordered his capture and execution before the marriage was two ten days old.
Yet even that hadn't quite stopped the rumors that followed Princess Raedra in the aftermath.
Was she a poor judge of character? How could she not have seen it sooner? How could she have given herself to a Sharran?
Was she a Sharran now as well?
In his most pragmatic moments, Vangerdahast thought the experience may have been for the best.
It had dissuaded Raedra from making any further attempts at a love match even if she claimed she was still waiting for such a thing, which left many politically advantageous alliances by marriage on the table.
It had hardened the princess against the royal rumor mill such that gossip barely phased her even before her unexpected assumption of the throne.
It had also made her gratifyingly wary of strangers, which Vangey felt was a prudent trait in a monarch.
“Very well,” Queen Rae said with a slight downward turn of her lips. She faced her councilor again. “See if there's anything more you can find about her within the next few weeks. If word of her remains favorable, we will address the matter again.”
The centuries-old wizard learned quite early that his efforts to learn about Willowcroft would be frustrated more often than not.
He couldn’t successfully scry on the woman.
He couldn’t scry on her.
Day after day, chant after chant, the spell slid away from the woman like water off a duck's wing.
No one could be that thorough at repelling attempts at scrying. Certainly not by him.
That could only mean she was protected by something to keep prying eyes away from her.
And someone without something to hide simply didn't do that.
He turned his attention to her known companions, and was met with similar issues. They were either dead, on a different plane, or protected from scrying.
Without scrying, he was forced to return to the network of spies he’d collected to plumb the port city for information. It was incredibly slow going, given the chaos that was Baldur’s Gate and the delay he’d had in learning of the incident at all. And Vangerdahast did have other obligations at court beyond this singular worry.
He tracked down Willowcroft’s name in an old adventuring charter that had been issued in 1487 a short while after the war had ended and Queen Raedra had been crowned. She had traveled as an adventurer with an eclectic group of people under the leadership of a dwarf and a drow paladin, but there was little record of what deeds they had accomplished together.
Most regretfully, the charter had expired after five years and was not renewed again, which meant the enchantment that would have allowed Vangerdahast to track Willowcroft’s exact location had likewise been permitted to lapse.
Willowcroft most likely quit adventuring with a group or left the country at that point, because she didn’t appear in any other charters that Vangerdahast’s servant could find.
And the information coming out of Baldur's Gate was spotty at best.
This Hero of Baldur’s Gate was hard to pin down even within the city. She was seen helping with repairs one day and then beating up scum in the Undercity the next.
There was an agreement that Tavali Willowcroft had led the charge against the illithids during the invasion itself. Her group of friends had been instrumental in destroying the Elder Brain, which was now for some reason being called a Netherbrain from the most learned sources.
(Vangerdahast could barely wrap his head around that. The men and women calling it that were servants of Mystra as he was, so he didn't want to think them prone to flights of fancy. But he could not get an answer on how such an abomination was created.)
But either way, there was more than just that victory under the young women's belt.
She'd also been involved in toppling a corrupt politician. The story changed every time he heard it, but the recently elected Arch Duke of Baldur's Gate had apparently led the Banite portion of the Dead Three's alliance. Many still doubted and protested this, claiming that Banites had framed the young Lord Gortash. But more and more people seemed to be turning to the idea that he had been a ring leader all along. The Harpers, wizards, and city watch all seemed to agree. There was also word of gnomes enslaved to make his mechanical guards, though that might have been conjecture since the factory blew up due to some kind of mechanical failure.
Such was the way with artificers.
Next, this Willowcroft was apparently responsible for slaying Bhaal's chosen as well. An entire temple to the Lord of Murder had been uncovered in the sewers of the city. Vangey wasn't certain that could be true, but the Watch and Harpers once again were in agreement that the sorcerer and her allies had slain dozens of Bhaalists and would-be Bhaalists across the city.
(It made Vangerdahast inquire with their own guards and spies about the feasibility of conducting a thorough sweep of Suzail's sewers and Undercity.)
Finally, and most troubling for a certain point of view, a great many refugees, druids, and Harpers were talking about some portion of land a few days outside the city that had been cursed by Shar for over a century.
Vangey had not heard of such a place, but that was unsurprising. It was so far from Cormyr, and such a relatively small parcel along the Chionthar.
But what was alarming were the stories that Willowcroft had, somehow, banished the curse and broken Shar's hold over the region.
This was apparently accomplished, somehow, in tandem with slaying Myrkul's representative in the Dead Three's alliance.
None of it made any sense.
Why would Myrkul's champion have been living among a land cursed by Shar? Had Shar been a fourth player in this alliance to raise an army of mind flayers?
How had killing this man, this Myrkulite, had any effect on a Sharran blight?
And if that was the case, what was the extent of Willowcroft's involvement? Surely she wasn't leading Harpers and druids? How would a sorcerer have broken a curse entwined with nature?
More questions than answers, and more stories spreading far and wide than Vangerdahast was comfortable with.
His Queen would hear of these things eventually, whether he told her himself or not.
And Queen Raedra might be very moved by such a feat. The Sharran husband she'd so efficiently executed had left the Queen with a deep hatred of the Dark Lady. Any word of Sharran movement within their borders had been swiftly cut down to prevent their vile cult from infecting those grieving losses from the war.
If Queen Rae were to learn that Tavali Willowcroft had helped banish a cloak of shadow cast by Shar over a swath of land, it might make the Queen all the more eager to meet and reward the young woman. Her Majesty might even want to give her a position in the Court. Or some other formal recognition.
That could not happen before the Queen knew what she was inviting into the castle.
So in between learning about Willowcroft and the chaos that had been unleashed in Baldur’s Gate, Vangerdahast gathered information on the other so-called Heroes of Baldur's Gate. He needed to be prepared. He needed to be ready to answer any questions the Queen might have about her recently discovered cousin.
But information about them wasn’t forthcoming, and he wasn't pleased by what he did find, either.
There was a high elf with no past behind him. A full-blooded high elf, and yet there was no family history or connection to the city to speak of. No one knew the man or where he had come from. All anyone seemed to remember about him was that he was a strangely beautiful creature, and he had apparently been gravely wounded in the battle with the Netherbrain. A few people reported that he was confined to a sick room for weeks afterward. He was only seen regularly in public again months later, still at Willowcroft's side.
The gossip later reached the War Wizard that they were lovers and living together.
Then there was Gale of Waterdeep. Vangerdahast had heard of him through the grapevine. And that was mostly because he had been Mystra's champion and then disgraced.
Vangerdahast wasn't clear on how the man had gotten caught up in everything, but he'd apparently earned back enough of Mystra's favor that she sent other wizards from Waterdeep and Neverwinter to help with the cause. There were some murmurs, as winter progressed, that Gale Dekarios would one day be fully welcomed back into Mystra's good graces and that she had already assigned him his first task.
Something to keep an eye on, certainly. The younger wizard had returned to Waterdeep though, so he wasn't staying close to Willowcroft.
There was a cleric among the group; a silvery-haired half-elf Selûnite. But she wasn’t part of any of the local temples. None of the priests could recall seeing the woman before the weeks leading up to the battle. There was virtually no information about her either, except people said she was also involved in breaking down Shar's curse. Little else beyond her willingness to heal civilians caught up in the invasion was known. Then she had vanished within months of the destruction of the Netherbrain and hadn't been seen in the city since.
And she wasn't the only ally to disappear.
Willowcroft's group had had two tieflings and a githyanki as well. She had also supposedly been traveling with the son of a prominent Duke in the Gate. No one could seem to agree what had happened to the four of them.
Some said that one of the tieflings was the son of Duke Ulder Ravengard. Some said it was a bastard son that had appeared after the first son’s disappearance, while others said the horned boy was Ravengard’s formerly human son. Vangerdahast’s people couldn’t quite make sense of it. And either way, both tieflings and the githyanki had disappeared after fighting the Absolute and were presumed dead. The duke claimed his son was alive and traveling far from the city. Vangerdahast supposed that could be explained as wishful thinking, or possibly a sign of madness. Word about this Duke Ravengard was that he had supported Enver Gortash, and may have suffered a weakness in his mind during the affair with the Absolute.
In any event, it was as if half the people Tavali Willowcroft had traveled with had simply manifested from thin air one day, killed every enemy in their path, and vanished after the mind flayer invasion was defeated.
It was maddening.
But fortunately for Vangerdahast, she had traveled with others as well. Unfortunately, the names provided to him did nothing to quell the fear that this illegitimate princess was capable of gathering powerful allies to her cause.
There was Halsin of the Emerald Grove; a centuries old druid of some renown. He had left the city almost as soon as the battle was won. Nothing concerning there; druids didn't like cities.
Then, most interesting and alarming, was Jaheira the High Harper and Minsc, the Mad Rashemaar. Both famed warriors who averted an apocalypse one hundred years in the past. Vangerdahast hadn't been alive for their first crusades against Bhaal, but he had heard of the two of them. And he did not like to learn that they kept close company with Willowcroft during the rebuilding of the city.
The Harper was certainly no one to trifle with if only for her spy network. The Baldurian Harpers had taken some blows in recent months, but their web was far from destroyed.
There were more than a few whispers that Tavali spent a great deal of time in the High Harper’s company. His people sent back word that the older half-elf had taken the younger under her wing for training as a Harper.
Vangerdahast scowled at that particular sending.
While Willowcroft didn't seem to be getting involved with politics, one didn't need to wear a crown or wield a title to control a population. Sometimes words and information were enough.
With all this information in mind, a short while later Vangerdahast found it necessary to take his findings to his queen.
Queen Rae agreed to the private meeting one afternoon before dinner, gliding into the room in one of her simpler blue gowns with a split skirt and her hair in a low bun. Her face slid into the careful, blank neutrality she had crafted over her time as a princess and as Queen. Vangerdahast swept his red-brown robe forward with his hands as he sat in a tall-backed across from the Queen beside her fireplace. He had his own journal of notes on his hands.
The Royal Magician completed his tale in two parts. First, he explained Willowcroft's likely origins. Then, he explained what he had learned of her so far. His Queen heard it all with furrowed brows, frowns, and the occasional quirk of her eyebrow.
As he predicted, Queen Rae’s face took on a brief pleased and vengeful look to hear that Tavali Willowcroft had helped to lift Shar’s curse from the land. She asked many questions of him, seeking clarification on both what he believed to have occurred in Baldur's Gate, in Reithwin, and with Willowcroft.
The conversation lasted a long time, the late afternoon winter sun cresting further west and their candles melting lower as they spoke.
“How,” Raedra asked quietly at the end, keeping her eyes on his while she leaned back in her chair. “Certain are you of this woman's heritage?”
“I cannot be,” the old wizard said frankly. “It's unlikely there will be any strong family resemblance after so many generations, but she may herself know of her origins. It's why I need to meet the girl in person.”
“Hardly a girl,” Queen Rhae said lightly. Her gaze was still cool on him. “She's only two years my junior.”
“You are my Queen, your Majesty,” Vangerdahast said with appropriate deference. “But I am centuries old. Most humans alive with ever be boys and girls to me.”
Raedra cocked an eyebrow but let the subject pass. “So what is your proposal?” She wondered aloud. “To be permitted to go and meet with this woman? Or to have her brought here?” The Queen paused. “You counseled against summoning her in the fall. You felt it would be dangerous to award her any favor without more information about who she was.”
“And I still do,” he nodded.
“But what you have found does not raise suspicions about her,” Queen Raedra said pointedly. “You haven't told me anything to see this woman as a threat. An adventurer with powerful friends isn't rare. She has no great wealth to speak of or armies to command. She could become the next High Harper of Baldur's Gate and live another hundred years, and it will not bring her within reach of the Dragon Throne.”
“You say that, Your Majesty,” Vangerdahast began darkly. “But you do not know what ambitions someone may hold in their heart. Especially one blessed with sorcery.” Vangerdahast's lips downturned sharply. “Their kind have a tendency toward entitlement. It is a symptom of living with the benefit of power all one's life.”
That was the stark difference between wizards and other magical practitioners. Warlocks, bards, and sorcerers took their powers for granted. Wizards needed to master each and every spell they learned. Their focus and concentration were greater than those who cast with their selves rather than their minds. “They believe the world is theirs for the taking, if they would just take it. I would know for myself if she will be the latest threat to your reign.”
“Mightn’t you make her that threat,” Raedra asked archly, “by informing her of her bloodline? It’s been over a century since my ancestor got involved with her family. There's every chance she is unaware of it.”
The human man shook his head. “You did not see the mother,” Vangerdahast began grimly, “that started all of this. How obvious it was that she knew the truth of the babe's sire, even as she denied it to my face. Her paranoia was immediate.”
“Is that not more reason to think she took it to her grave?” Raedra leaned back a little with furrowed brows. “If she didn’t want you to get her child involved in our politics?”
“It’s possible,” Vangerdahast allowed with a heavy tone of doubt. “But that kind of paranoia does not go quietly. I think she would have warned that boy of his bloodline to ensure he was never caught off guard. And it is possible it died with him, but I suspect he would have passed the knowledge on to his children as well. It is what I would have done,” Vangerdahast said wistfully and turned to face a marble bust on the left corner of the room. King Azoun V's face, not quite resembling King Azoun IV's, stared back at him. “If I had been permitted to be involved and to introduce the boy to his father. He would have known his bloodline, and the duty that came with it.”
There were a few long moments of silence. When she spoke, Raedra's voice had a surprising bite to it. “You speak as though you were denied what was rightfully yours,” she said brusquely. “But that child was not yours to take. If King Azoun IV had wanted to be involved, no one could have stopped him.” Vangerdahast turned to his queen with his eyebrows slightly raised at her tone. “And it wasn't your place to threaten that woman. If you made her think you were going to rip her newborn from her arms, it's little wonder she ordered you away.”
Vangerdahast looked down his nose a bit as he considered the blonde woman. “Explaining the reality of a situation,” he said slowly, “is not threatening someone. She wasn’t entitled,” he said the word more condescendingly this time, “to her ignorance. And she wasn’t entitled to keep the babe from his father or, in this case,” he lifted his chin, “from his royal father’s humble servant.”
Queen Raedra scoffed and gave Vangerdahast a withering look. “Yes, she was,” the warrior countered easily. “Because she was without a doubt the child’s mother, and you were a stranger attempting to tell her what her son’s life would be without any proof to your claim or the child’s father in tow. It sounds to me,” now Queen Raedra was sitting up straight in her chair, shoulders a firm line against the back of it. “That your indelicate handling of the situation caused her paranoia more than anything.”
The War Wizard sputtered, his brown eyes hardening as he looked at the younger woman.
Queen or no, that she dares to-
“I did,” he said shortly, “as my duty demanded of me.”
“And yet this supposed-bastard child was never brought into the fold.” Raedra’s gaze grew more thoughtful than provoking. “You said something in that place threatened you, and so you never went back again. What was it?”
Vangerdahast cast his mind back to that day, to the overwhelming presence he had felt when Megara Willowcroft ordered him away. “I don’t know,” he said tersely. “Megara herself didn't display any power. The force came from something deeper and darker than a human woman.” The promise of retribution, of otherworldly violence in that presence came back to him and threatened to send a shiver up his spine. He was an old man, and had faced down foes most people couldn't fathom. But the sensation that the land itself was willing to devour him whole was not something anyone could forget. “And that is all the more reason to figure out what this girl does or doesn’t know.” He looked the queen squarely in the eye. “A sorcerer with a royal bloodline cannot be left alone. A royal sorcerer gathering powerful friends to support her even less so. And a royal sorcerer who conceals herself from all attempts at scrying cannot be left unchecked.” His lips pressed firmly together as he regarded his queen. “Those without secrets do not so casually adorn such things. Ordinary adventurers have neither the funds nor the inclination to acquire them. Those who live ordinary, quiet lives do not concern themselves with the possibility of a scrying attempt every hour of the day. And I have tried,” Vangerdahast gave the queen a dark look, “every hour of the day.”
Raedra’s own lips thinned. “I think I’d quite like one for myself, now that you mention it.”
Vangerdahast blinked.
The Queen’s smile was thin. “If I knew I could stop someone from spying on me by magical means, I would jump at the chance. Perhaps that is understandable to you since I am a queen, but this Tavali Willowcroft has made her share of enemies, has she not?” Queen Raedra cocked an eyebrow at Vangey. “The Dead Three for starters, and you say she struck a direct blow against Shar as well.” The queen crossed her legs beneath her dark blue gown. “Isn’t it more likely she’s hiding from them, even more so than the usual adventurer would?”
Vangerdahast swallowed, lips pulling like he’d sucked on a lemon.
Queen Raedra didn’t wait for a reply. She flapped her hand at him once, and then rose from the chair. Vangerdahast rose as his Queen did. “I do not give you my blessing or my permission to seek this woman out or harass her about her bloodline when she isn’t even in the country. If she comes back, that will be another story. And I am grateful,” Raedra’s face softened slightly, though it couldn’t be called kind, “for the effort you put into collecting this information. Your dedication to the crown is deeply appreciated. But if this is all her history shows, we don’t have the time or need to be worrying over her. Aubrin is out there,” Raedra’s eyes grew slightly hooded at the mention of her former unwanted fiancé and legitimized cousin, “if you want to worry about an Obarskyr bastard stirring up trouble. So is Erzoured.” Her lips twisted in displeasure. “And their royal ancestor is even from this century.” Her other legitimized cousin had already played his hand at a coup, but he’d unfortunately survived the attempt due to his later prowess in the war.
Vangerdahast scowled slightly, but inclined his head at the names. “It is because of them that I urge you to proceed with caution with this woman, Your Majesty,” Vangerdahast warned her grimly. “Obarskyr bastards have a way of becoming problems, as you well know.”
“Aubrin hasn’t made any play for the throne,” Raedra said tiredly. “What makes you think this woman will?”
“For herself? Perhaps not. Perhaps Aubrin will be the same. But what if she bears a child? What then?” Vangerdahast’s eyes flashed with his country’s history and the ambitions of Erzoured and Aubrin’s mothers. “Do you think she will not see the value of a throne then?”
But Queen Raedra only looked at him dully. The sunset cast an orange glow on her blonde hair as it moved in the window on the right side of the room. “Their family hasn’t come for it yet. And they certainly could have when Azoun IV died with only a male grandson as heir. Why should they now?”
Vangerdahast had no reason other than what he’d already said and tried to convince her of.
How could he make one so young see the long aims of someone who would live to be over a century old? Someone who could afford to take her time to cultivate a following before playing her hand?
Queen Raedra would not see it, and Vangerdahast could not force her.
In time, perhaps Erzoured or Aubrin would make another fatal misstep, and then the Queen would see the danger of leaving royal bastards to wander the world at their leisure.
So Vangerdahast bit his tongue when Queen Raedra gave the order for Tavali Willowcroft to receive formal recognition from the Crown of Cormyr for her service to Toril, with a promise of a medal waiting for her if she would return to the land of her birth to receive it.
Vangerdahast forced himself to put the girl from his mind when her name didn’t come up in any world-shaking events over the next two years.
But then, by pure happenstance, he learned in the fall of 1494 that she had come to Cormyr. She had passed through the portal in Suzail with a projected destination of Eveningstar. One of his people had noticed her name on the list and remembered the War Wizard's interest in the girl from the prior years. Of course, they had had no idea he was looking into her because she was from the royal bloodline.
Willowcroft was alone save for the high elf companion he’d learned about two years prior.
Well, he thought determinedly. Time to get a look at you.