A/N: Well, here we are at last! My apologies that this update is one day late. I actually had it all written out, but I wasn't satisfied with it and so I started again from scratch. I would like to thank stupidpenname and Fishy Biscuits for their valuable comments concerning this chapter.

His Father's Son

It was late at night, and the ships rocked idly on the black ocean beneath a curtain of stars. In one cabin a golden Charter light was burning.

A teenage boy was standing over his desk, peering down at the dimly-lit map as he traced the jagged coastline with a finger. A soft knock sounded at the door, and it creaked open to admit an old man dressed in black and white robes. The visitor silently moved to stand at the boy's shoulder. "See anything interesting, Sire?"

The boy's finger stopped at a peninsula that thrust out into a large bay. "Belisaere, Chancellor. Within reach, yet beyond our aid," the boy replied. His voice was grim.

The old man cleared his throat. "Sire, we must engage the barbarians at sea before we can even think of retaking Belisaere. The Kingdom is overrun, and to attack now would be suicide."

"I know." The boy leaned on the desk and bowed his curly head. Then he uttered, so quietly that the Chancellor almost did not hear it: "I wish father were here."

"King Edrian was a great man and a noble ruler." The Chancellor placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "And you are your father's son, Rothain. If it takes a year – if it takes ten years – you will reclaim Belisaere, and assume your rightful place on the throne."

"So we are in agreement?" Rothain looked at Vansen without really seeing him. The King had clasped his hands together and dug in his heels to keep from literally bouncing in his chair with anxiety. Right now there were far more important things on his mind than business, but the running of the Kingdom did not stop and start at his convenience.

"The Captain won't like it," Vansen observed wryly. The King's handless advisor had doubtless noticed his agitation, but thankfully acted as if everything – even coming to the King's private quarters for a meeting – was perfectly normal. Rothain had refused to leave all morning

"Finessa must realize that the Royal Army cannot be built up again," said Rothain, making an effort to concentrate on the task at hand. "Our citizens are scattered, and maintaining a Royal Army to watch over everyone is impractical. There is still a shortage of Charter mages, and I do not want to start conscripting them into the army."

"I concur," Vansen reassured him. "With the people so widespread it makes sense to have local constabularies. And in case of war, the Mayor of each city and town will have trained an armed band to be called into action when needed. It is a good plan. It will work." Rothain managed a smile; having trained bands instead of an official army had been Vansen's idea; of course he thought it was a good plan. "But I still don't want to tell the Captain you've decided to permanently disband the Royal Army," the advisor added.

"Betrys approved of the plan in its infant stages," observed Rothain. "And although you may have to tell Captain Finessa, I will need to deal with her objections afterwards." He grinned. "However, it's been four years since the rebellion; I don't think she'll cause another one." Vansen made a face at that remark, and behind him Madran and Ciprian laughed. The two Lieutenants, along with the Chancellor, had been keeping Rothain company.

Their business finally complete, Vansen bowed and left the room. As soon as he was gone Rothain sprang to his feet and resumed his pacing. They had been waiting all morning.

"Sire – shouldn't you sit down?" Ciprian was leaning on the wall next to the door, watching with an amused smile. "At this rate you'll wear a hole in the carpet."

Rothain ignored him, and Chancellor Oraz chuckled. "I've seen his father in many a similar state. Believe me, Lieutenant, this is normal. He will not sit down no matter how you ask."

"Nothing's happening," said Rothain, striking the wall in frustration and casting a longing glance at a richly-carved door. "It has been hours already. What if something has gone wrong?"

"We would have been informed," said Lieutenant Madran, ever-reasonable. He and the Chancellor were playing a quiet game of Cranaque, looking for all the world as if they were attending a garden party. Rothain did not know how they could be so calm in a situation like this.

Suddenly, from behind the door came a harsh and ragged scream. Rothain bolted forward but was quickly grabbed by Madran, who upended the Cranaque board. "It's all right," the Lieutenant reassured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It's just starting." Meanwhile, the Chancellor quietly notified the guards outside that they were not to be disturbed.

The next hour was the longest in Rothain's life. There were more screams, and the King kept his two Lieutenants on their toes as they repeatedly pulled him back from the carved wooden door. When it finally opened, the King stared, slack-jawed, as two Ladies-in-Waiting emerged with bloody sheets. Now Rothain wasn't going to be stopped. "I have to go inside!" he hissed as Ciprian and Madran strained to hold him back. A wave of urgency and alarm rose within the King, and instinctively he shouted a defensive Charter mark his father had taught him long ago. The two Lieutenants were blasted right off their feet; Ciprian was flung gracelessly into a chair and sent it toppling to the ground, and Madran was slammed into a nearby wall.

Rothain stopped dead, shocked by what he had just done. He took a hesitant step towards Madran, who was sprawled at the base of the wall. "I – I'm so sorry," he gasped. "I panicked."

Madran rubbed the back of his head ruefully. "It's all right. Believe me, I understand."

Rothain abruptly remembered that Madran had a daughter. The birth of that particular child had been something of a scandal, because the Lieutenant – then Ensign – was not married to Favilliel, although everyone who knew them thought he might as well have been.

"Where is your daughter?" asked Rothain as he helped Madran to his feet. "If Favilliel is in there with..." His voice trailed off.

"The little terror?" replied Madran, tactfully ignoring the King's last remark. "She's in the archives. Dagald is teaching her to read. Or trying to," he added with a sigh.

Meanwhile, Chancellor Oraz had returned from scolding the thoughtless ladies-in-waiting. "There," he said, settling comfortably back into his chair. "It won't be long now." Rothain rolled his eyes, but then a swift knock on the hall door startled them all. Ciprian opened it to admit a messenger. "We gave instructions for no visitors," the Chancellor said crossly.

The messenger removed her hat. "The missive was most urgent, sir." She turned her eyes to the King, who was hardly listening. "It was sent from the Clayr."

The Chancellor took the envelope and shooed the messenger away, and at Rothain's distracted wave the old man opened it and read the letter himself. Rothain had resumed his pacing, but when the Chancellor made a noise of surprised he paused and glanced over. There was a most peculiar expression on the old man's face. "What is it?" asked the King, his curiosity piqued.

Chancellor Oraz held out the letter, and Rothain snatched it up and scanned the elegant script:

A message for Their Royal Highnesses, the King and Queen. On behalf of the Daughters of the Clayr, I wish to offer my sincere congratulations on the birth of your son. – Illirae.

Rothain lowered the page with shaking hands. "The birth of my..."

And from behind the door came the faint sound of a baby crying.

Ciprian and Madran laughed and whooped, shaking Rothain's hand and slapping his back in a manner shared by all Royal Guards. The Chancellor's face was shining. "I have a son!" Rothain exclaimed excitedly, but then he was struck by a sudden terrifying thought: Illirae had not said that it was a healthy son. "Is crying normal?" he asked, suddenly frantic with worry.

Madran raised an eyebrow. "Yes. It means the baby is breathing."

"Oh." Rothain paused to digest this information, and then asked, "Is he crying enough?"

The brown-haired Lieutenant was saved from having to answer when the door opened and Favilliel poked her head out. The Abhorsen-in-Waiting looked tired, but she was smiling. "They are ready for you, Sire," she said before popping back inside. Rothain then felt such a confusing mixture of relief, excitement, and terror that he did not know quite what to do. He was saved from having to make the decision by Ciprian and Madran pushing him towards the door.

The young King looked over his shoulder at the others. "Please don't go anywhere – we'll be wanting you all in a moment."

The two Lieutenants exchanged glances, and the Chancellor said, "Perhaps today it should be just you and the Queen."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Rothain. "She would be glad to have you. And we will need witnesses. For the baptism," he clarified, resting his hand on the doorknob. "We talked it over, and we don't want a lot of fuss and public display. Just a quiet ceremony with friends." The three men looked quite gratified. Then at long last and with a trembling hand, he opened the carved wooden door.

The room was softly lit by dim Charter lights that hovered near the ceiling. Favilliel stood by the side of the bed, talking quietly to the midwife. And propped up in the large four-poster bed was Jyss, her tangled red hair darkened by sweat, and her gaze fixed lovingly on the small bundle in her arms. Rothain moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and kissed her. "How are you?"

"Fine." Jyss gave a weary sigh. "But I am seriously reconsidering our decision to have more children." She smiled and held up the bundle. "Look. See what we did?"

Rothain took the baby awkwardly, placing the tiny head in the crook of his elbow. For a moment he was speechless. "Thank the Charter he got your good looks," he remarked.

The new mother laughed, then squinted at him curiously. "How did you know it was a boy?"

"The Clayr sent me a premature note of congratulations." He paused as the baby squirmed, and a tiny flailing hand grasped the ruby pommel of his sword. "Look at that!" he exclaimed in delight.

Jyss sighed. "Not a day old, and you're letting him play with weapons already?"

"What?" Rothain shot her a look of wide-eyed innocence, one that usually worked. "I say the sooner he starts, the better. And at this rate, he'll be the finest swordsman in the Kingdom."

"How do you know he'll be a swordsman?" Jyss countered. "What if he doesn't like weapons?"

"Doesn't like weapons!" Rothain repeated, aghast. "With parents like us? That's like saying he won't be a powerful Charter mage." He beamed down at the baby, already imagining play swordfights in the Palace halls.

"I suppose he'll also be an accomplished musician," said Jyss, rolling her eyes.

Rothain gave a wicked grin. "Maybe like his mother he'll have flaming red hair," he teased.

Jyss shot him a glare. "And maybe like his father he'll be tall as a tree." Rothain clammed up and made a mental note not to annoy his wife anymore that day. She'd had a very trying time.

He gave the baby a gentle kiss on the head, passed him back to the new mother, and then nodded at Favilliel. She opened the door to admit Madran, Ciprian, and the Chancellor, and the visitors quietly gathered around the small family. Rothain doubted that such an eminent group had ever assembled to welcome a prince into the world. Everyone was strangely hushed and solemn.

"Have you thought of a name?" asked Madran in a whisper.

Jyss and Rothain exchanged smiles. "Yes," answered Rothain. "Which reminds me – it's time for the baptism." He looked at his wife questioningly.

"I already asked Favilliel," Jyss assured him. "She agreed to be the Charter Mage."

As Madran gathered wood-ash from the fire and Favilliel pulled a small glass bottle from her pocket, Rothain fussed over the new mother. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, pulling the blankets further up her lap. "Are you hungry? Do you need some water?"

"Water would be fine," Jyss replied, and Rothain hurried over to the silver pitcher and cups.

"The King waiting on someone?" Ciprian observed. "That's new."

Favilliel's eyes twinkled. "The Queen isn't his personal aide anymore," she remarked as she rolled up her sleeves. "That all stopped when she married him."

"I still take care of him," said Jyss, looking up from her son. "But now I don't get paid for it."

The visitors burst out laughing, and the Chancellor leaned over to Rothain as he poured a goblet of water. "It sounds like you got the better part of the deal, Sire."

"I know I did." Jyss did not say anything, but Rothain noticed that her ears turned red.

They gathered at Jyss' bedside, ready to begin. At the King's request Chancellor Oraz held the baby, who nestled against the black and white folds of his robes. Favilliel, a Charter-mark drawn in ash on her brow, raised the bottle and started to chant. Rothain's breath caught in his throat when the bottle began to glow, and he watched as the liquid inside was infused with the Charter and all that bound it together. The Abhorsen-in-Waiting bent to touch the bottle to the floor, then to the mark on her brow, and finally emptied the shimmering liquid over the baby's head.

A sudden flash lit up the entire room, and Rothain's eyes filled with bursts of coloured light. And over all of this he heard Favilliel call: "By the Charter that binds all things, we name thee –"

Rothain and Jyss locked eyes and hands, and spoke together: "Edrian."

A Charter mark was slowly forming on the child's brow, and Rothain looked at Chancellor Oraz, who was cradling the baby. It could have been the after-effects of the flash of light, but for a moment Rothain thought that the old man was crying. As for himself, the young King felt an immeasurable sense of satisfaction – of rightness – such that he could hardly describe.

In the ensuing silence, Favilliel placed her hand on the infant's head, where a new Charter mark now blazed with a fierce inner light. "Welcome to the Old Kingdom," she whispered. "Prince Edrian."

The End.

A/N: I would like to thank all of my reviewers for their comments, encouragement, and valuable feedback. When planning this, I wondered how readers would react to a fanfic where the inevitable epic battle sequence is prevented at the eleventh hour and never actually takes place. The Poison Crown is essentially an anti-war story, and was meant to be so from the very beginning. Thank you again for all of your support; it really means a lot to me.

Now, some fun facts and behind-the-scenes bonus features:

1. You may have noticed that there is no one "main character" in this story; five characters (Jyss, Illirae, Ghalio, Ciprian, and Favilliel) all have five chapters told from their respective points-of-view! I really like the number five (FGC has fifty chapters). The "major changes" I mentioned while posting the story were one new chapter for each of the main characters. These were: "Attack" (7, Jyss), "The Lieutenant" (16, Ciprian), "Will You Join Us" (19, Favilliel), "Steel and Ivory" (22, Illirae), and "Deadly With a Knife" (25, Ghalio).

2. I mentioned before that the drunken scene with Ghalio and Ciprian was inspired by "Othello". The name "Ciprian" means "man of Cyprus", and – completely coincidentally – the main action of "Othello" takes place on the island of Cyprus.

3. The title of this story was one of the first things I came up with. I knew the general plot (a mad king controlled by someone on the other side of a rebellion), and suddenly "The Poison Crown" popped into my head. It was only months later, when most of the story had been written, that I worked in the conspiracy theory that Ancelstierrans had poisoned Rothain's crown. The words didn't really mean anything when I first thought of them. It was more of an atmospheric title; what it sounds like, and its connotations, are more important than the meaning itself – as with the movie Reservoir Dogs (which I love, by the way).

4. The chapters were initially structured so that two halves were told from different points of view. For example, the first chapter was going to be Jyss getting her new post, and then Ghalio not being promoted. These chapter halves expanded until I finally split them. The inclusion of flashback scenes was a very late addition, used to round off the chapters and add more length and complexity. Because this story starts in medias res, I liked the opportunity to explore the past.

5. Some early ideas: Originally the rebels were stationed by the Red Lake and that somehow interfered with the Clayr's Sight (as with Orannis). I brought the rebels closer and decided to cut the Clayr off completely, rather than having to deal with that whole Sight-being-blocked issue. For a long time Ciprian was going to be older than Favilliel, until I realized they were both acting like Favilliel was the older one. There was some juggling of names: the prisoner Kelsa was originally Thess, and the Clayr ambassador Thess was originally Marin, and the Ranger Marin did not exist (because at that time I hadn't realized yet that Illirae was gay). Also, Thorael's name used to be Harshael – awful, I know. The idea of the archivists arose rather late; at first Kelsa was a woodsman's daughter. Also, in an early outline Ciprian was to have some sort of spiritual encounter in the wilderness with an animal (stag/wolf/snake, etc.) before he meets Madran and fights him. The second time he meets Madran, he is out in the woods (depressed, but not suicidal) looking for that animal. Then when he decides to go with Favilliel and Madran, he glimpses the animal again. I don't know what that was all about either. Betrys' sons were to have a larger role. I discarded a brief subplot where Vansen connects (romantically?) with a Healer after he returns to Belisaere without his hands. Anthone was to be featured in a chapter where Betrys orders the rebels troops to move out. He senses two powerful Charter mages (Favilliel and Madran, going to fetch Ciprian) nearby, considers capturing them, and decides to let them go without ever knowing who they are. I like the current scenario in "A Moment of Truth" better, when they confront each other. In fact, I like all of the changes I made. Can you imagine an Abhorsen called "Harshael"? Veeeeery subtle.

I really liked my new system of writing most of the story before beginning to post it. If I write any multi-chapter fics in the future I'll use this system again. Unfortunately, that means there will be more time between finishing one long story and posting another. I have a few ideas for possible longer works, but in the meantime you'll see some shorter pieces from me.

Thank you all again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story.