Thank you to those who have joined me on the journey that is
Teagan’s story! Those who have read,
reviewed and set alert and fav status - I am very appreciative! Thanks especially to Nithu, CynderJenn,
Snafu1000, Piceron, VioletTheirin, kiwibliss, Shakespira, Harmakhis and
Erynnar. Your interest adds fuel to the
fire of my writing!
Special thanks to my betas, Erynnar and VioletTheirin
for their invaluable assistance ... especially when they are busy with their
own writing! Also, special shoutout to kiwibliss
for giving me perspective from a non-DA point of view! Thanks, Sweetie! And to my new and fabulous
beta MireliA! Welcome to the fun, Sweetie!
As always, Bioware owns all that I did not make up on my own ....
** Just a heads up ... this may be the last posting this week as I have company coming into town
through the weekend. Will be back as soon as I can to post, or Monday ... whichever comes sooner ... TEAGAN 1 Thank the Maker, the Blight had ended!Now back at Redcliffe, taking over the Arling for his brother who had remained in Denerim to assist Alistair in his new role as king, Teagan wondered briefly if the needs of the people in peacetime would be enough
to satisfy him as they had during the Blight. The danger was over, the archdemon defeated and the kingdom on its way to unification, yet the former Bann of Rainesfere was beginning to feel a bit ... lost for reasons he knew only too well.
As his nephew’s half-brother had done during the Blight, Teagan now walked among the people of Redcliffe, speaking with them, listening to their concerns, making himself available for whatever, or whoever, was
needed. He had been the one they came to for help when his brother Arl Eamon had taken ill. He had been the one they had asked for - and Eamon and Alistair had agreed - to replace Eamon. He and he alone was the one they came to with their struggles, their trials, ... and their joys. As the days passed and the realm healed,
Teagan began wondering to whom he would turn for his needs to be met.
The new Arl found himself on any given day walking through the village, visiting the Revered Mother at the Chantry; speaking with Murdock, still the mayor of the village, regarding the establishment of monthly militia
drills; assisting Ser Perth and the other Knights of Redcliffe with various odds and ends that needed doing. For, though the Blight was over, much still needed to be done to rebuild. And through it all, Teagan thought only of one person: Lysette Cousland, Grey Warden, Hero of Ferelden.
He had known her since she was a child, her family and his being close friends. During the Wardens’
journey to stop the Blight, they had met up again at Redcliffe. The defense of the village from attack had
been in no small part due to Lysette and Alistair and their willingness to defend the innocent townsfolk. Teagan
had managed to find moments to speak with Lysette privately during the Wardens’ stay, and their return trips as well. On one occasion, things had even ... progressed to where Teagan had thought he might
convince her to return to him after the Blight ended. Yet, somewhere, somehow, and for reasons
unknown ... that message had not been made clear to her. After the defeat of the archdemon, during the
confusion after the battle in Denerim, the coronation of Alistair and the rebuilding of the palace and the city, Lysette had managed to sneak out of the capital and into the unknown ....
His steps heavy this autumn evening as he strode back up the hill towards the castle, Teagan was teased with recollections of the first time he and Lysette had met, years before, at a Landsmeet in Denerim. Bryce, Eleanor and both children were in attendance at that meeting he recalled. He had been thirty or so at the time, and newly made Bann of Rainesfere. Fergus, at twenty, had found him at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, and was telling him about his latest conquest in young women when Lysette had come upon them ....
“She’s the prettiest little thing, Teagan,” Fergus said with a grin over the brim of his tankard, his eyes sparkling at the memory. “And, what a spitfire! Maker, I thought she might smash that tray on my head afterwards!”
Teagan laughed giving his friend a wide grin in return. “Serving wenches are a tricky bunch,” he
admitted from personal experience while lifting his mug in silent salute. “I admire your courage, my friend!”
Fergus opened his mouth to respond when a shadow fell over the table. Glancing up, he found his
little sister standing there. With a visible sagging of his shoulders, Fergus groaned. “Lys ....”
“Mother and father are looking for you, brother.”
At the melodic tones, Teagan glanced up at the newcomer ... and met cobalt blue eyes with his grey.
She was dressed in leather armor, her bow at her back and daggers at her waist. Her dark curls reached beyond her shoulders where they were pulled back at the sides in two braids and secured twice with strips of leather. If she had not called Fergus brother, he might not have guessed she was Bryce and Eleanor Cousland’s youngest, though now that he looked closer, she did resemble her mother quite a bit. “Lady Lysette, I presume?” he asked.
Lysette nodded, struggling to contain a blush of embarrassment. Fighting it back, she returned, “I understand congratulations are in order, Bann Teagan. My parents mentioned your recent ... promotion.”
Teagan grinned and watched as she reddened just a slight bit more. “Thank you, my lady,” he replied,
nodding slightly at her.
Fergus stood then, downing the remainder of his ale in one gulp before setting the tankard aside with a thunk on the wooden table. “Teagan, I hope we shall meet again before the Landsmeet is over.”
Teagan rose and clasped wrists with his friend in the usual warrior fashion. “I believe your family
has been invited to a dinner at my brother’s estate,” he agreed, “a ‘small affair’ according to Isolde to celebrate my being made Bann. At any rate, I hope that I shall see you both there?” Fergus nodded, Lysette rolled her eyes, but also nodded. Biting the inside of his lip to contain his amusement, Teagan decided not to press the issue.
“Maker be with you both,” he finally managed.
“And with you,” Lysette’s soft alto tones replied as she and her brother turned to leave the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Teagan watched them leave the establishment together, Fergus whispering something to his sister, and she responding by slugging his arm. Teagan winced first and then smiled. He wondered what Fergus had said
to cause that particular reaction ....Teagan entered Redcliffe castle through the front gates. To his right he found Redcliffe archers
taking down their targets for the day. He climbed the steps, gratefully weary from the day’s efforts. He would take his meal in the study, as he often did, while working on the monthly accounts. He entered through the main doors, signaling one of the servants to notify the kitchens that he had returned.
Before he was halfway to the study, another servant came rushing up to him. “My lord, you have a guest ...”
Teagan sighed and ran a hand over his face, all the while hoping it wasn’t one of the village elders deciding to pay him a visit of an evening as they sometimes would. “Who is it, Daynan?” he asked wearily. “I am in no mood ....”
“I would have hoped that I would be a more welcome guest in your house....”
Surprised, Teagan turned towards his study to find Fergus Cousland standing there in the doorway.
“Fergus!” Teagan exclaimed, crossing the hall to greet his longtime friend. Then, with a deeper look of
concern, he asked, “How are you? Truly?”
Fergus tried to shrug off the injuries he had received at Ostagar so many months before, but Teagan had seen him at the palace only a few weeks previous and was well aware of the damage done, not all of it
physical. “I am doing as well as can be expected,” he replied. He followed Teagan into the study where the elder man poured them each a drink. Taking it in hand, the two men tipped their glasses in silent salute.
“So,” Teagan began, first to speak after the silence, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit? Come to see Bella at the
Warden’s Rest?”
“
Warden’s Rest?” Fergus queried, a frown of confusion crossing his features.
Teagan chuckled. “She changed the name when Lloyd, the lazy lout, left. Now she runs it all by herself. And quite admirably, I must say. You must stop by and see it for yourself, my friend. You won’t recognize the place!”
Fergus smiled sadly remembering a summer only ten years distant or so .... With a heavy sigh, he
replied, “I wish I could tell you that was tempting, but given all that has happened ....”
Teagan nodded. There was no need for explanation. When Fergus had married six years before, Teagan had been in attendance. Though it went against most of the nobles’ sense of propriety, Teagan had supported his friend in his marriage to the Antivan beauty he’d found and loved. The death of Oriana would haunt Fergus for a long time to come he suspected, as well as the death of their only child. “Any word on your sister?” Teagan asked casually.
Fergus took another drink from his glass, smiling behind the rim. “Actually, my friend, she is the
reason I am here.” When Teagan’s eyes darted up to his suddenly, Fergus had his answer to an unspoken question. “I wish I could tell you I knew where she was, but I cannot.” Setting his glass aside, he reached into his pocket. Withdrawing a folded piece of paper, he handed it to Teagan. “Our king asked if I would deliver this to
you personally,” he announced quietly. “Is there ... something I should be aware of, my friend?”
Frowning, Teagan took the parchment and broke the seal. Scanning its contents, he groaned inwardly.
When did Alistair become so perceptive? he wondered silently. Refolding the parchment, he lifted it and waved it at Fergus. “Have you seen this?”
Fergus shook his head. “No, though Alistair did tell me, generally speaking, what it contained. Should I have concern that our king believes Lysette would run to you for ... escape or protection?”
Teagan turned, his drink still in his hand, and set the paper aside on the desk. Walking over to the window that opened to the north out over the lake, he stared out at the sunset beyond. As he looked out over the
calm waters below, he couldn’t keep from remembering ....
Teagan was passing through the “hall of glass” as he had called it since he was a small boy, the hall leading to private quarters he used whenever he visited, that had an entire wall of windows looking out over
the gardens of Redcliffe. He was striding down the passageway when a blur of motion in the gardens caught his
eye. Pausing, he walked to the glass and looked out ... to find Lysette alone and wandering around the blooms that his mother had planted so many years before. Curious, he turned towards the door.
As he approached the younger Cousland, Teagan cleared his throat. “Good evening, my lady,” he
greeted her softly so as not to startle her. He found her dressed casually, in dark leggings and dark blue over-sized tunic, but she still wore her sword belt.
Lysette smiled up at him as she turned from the rosebush. “Good evening, Bann Teagan,” she replied.
Teagan’s smile widened into a grin. He knew what she was about. Upon her arrival in Redcliffe, she had
requested he simply refer to her by name, without her title. Teagan, however, refused to do so. “I must admit I am pleased to find such beauty in the garden this evening. It has not been graced by such a vision of loveliness since my mother’s passing so many years ago.”
Lysette’s smile stayed in place, though she did duck her head slightly, momentarily embarrassed.
“I - I understand that your mother was a very beautiful woman,” she returned. “I’m sorry not to have had the
pleasure of meeting her.”
Teagan smiled and offered her his arm. “I was but a boy when she passed,” he admitted as he led her to another part of the garden, “but as I recall, this was her favorite area to sit and read of an afternoon.” So saying, he led her to a small footbridge, rising over a stream that flowed from one end of the garden to the other. Once on the other side, he gestured her ahead of him, up the small path way to a gazebo surrounded by numerous varieties of
flowers. He heard her gasp of surprise and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “Why is it,” he wondered softly as he led her to a bench and sat beside her, “that all women seem to like flowers?”
Lysette’s laughter washed over him, sending a wave of sensation down his spine. Glancing at
her, he saw her staring out at the blooms. “That is probably because like women, these blossoms are strong, hearty, resilient ... though they appear to be weak and delicate.”
She stood for a moment and moved towards a bush, breaking one of the gentle blooms and lifting it in her hand. Turning back to face him, she said, “Like this one, for instance.” Lifting it slightly, she twisted the stem between her fingers so that the last rays of evening sunlight could catch on the blue hues of the petals. “Petals so soft one might think they were the skin of a baby; lovely colors to put your heart and mind at ease;” she lifted
it to her nose first, then in Teagan’s direction, “a scent so gentle, so alluring you would think nothing but sharing it with others. Yet,” again, Lysette lifted the bloom, this time upending it, turning it within her hand until he could see a thin line of blood trickling from her palm down her wrist, “a stem riddled with sharp thorns to remind you that not only is this blossom a delicate gift of the Maker, but also a hearty plant, one capable of defending itself against any foe no matter its size or strength.”
Teagan gasped, concern filling his features immediately. Rising, he reached for her hand, turning to see that the cut was small, and of no cause for immediate concern. Taking the flower from her, he set it aside. “Point well taken, my lady,” he murmured, staring into her eyes for a long moment. He could see something in the depths, hidden but bubbling near the surface.
“Do not mistake me, Teagan,” she told him, her voice dropping huskily, her eyes locked onto his. “I am no delicate bloom - I never have been. I was raised a warrior, a soldier in my father’s armies, a Captain in his guard.
I have fought against treachery, treason and torment most of my life. Like the rose, I have learned to protect myself.”
Having wiped the blood from her hand with the cuff of his sleeve, Teagan now lifted the wound to his lips, watching her closely for her reaction. He had his hand situated so that he could feel the jump in her pulse at her wrist as his lips grazed her skin. He could see a light flush of color rising from her neck, hear her breath as it caught. “I would respectfully argue, my lady,” he murmured, his lips now trailing down her wrist, “that you are more like the
flower than you give yourself credit.”
Teagan waited patiently, watching her every move, reaction, to his touch. She did not seem to be pushing him away, nor fighting off his advances. Her eyes closed momentarily, and he had to wonder if she knew just how much her actions told him. “Your comparison was incomplete,” he continued, lifting his other hand to her face.
Her eyes shot back open at his touch, locking onto his. “You have grown into a beautiful woman, one
that others eye with envy.” He saw the confusion and he added, “You might not have been at court often, but when you were, both the men and the women spoke of you in awe and admiration.”
He watched as she seemed to shrug off the words, as if they had no value or relevance. “Perhaps it only matters then, if one particular person is aware of that beauty?” he asked, stepping closer until she was leaning against him. She was tall, like her mother had been, and reached just above his shoulder. Her gaze never left his as he added, “Or are you spoken for by another?”
“No ....”
“That is good,” he whispered, leaning in close, “for I like knowing who I might have to fight off for your affections.”
He intended for the kiss to be light and gentle, a teasing exploration that would emphasize her description of the flower she had handed to him. The moment their lips touched, however, Teagan felt a shock of electricity jolt through him and heard her gasp indicating she had felt it as well. In less than a heartbeat, the touch became much, much more ....
Teagan straightened when he heard Fergus shift behind him. “Your sister and I,” he finally admitted to his friend, “became ... close.”
Fergus chuckled. “So I gathered,” he returned, moving to the window. “What I am concerned about is why she chose to sneak away at night.”
Teagan shook his head. “I wish I had answers for you, my friend, but since that night we have hardly had a moment to talk.”
Fergus sighed. ”I was afraid of that.” Shaking his head, he added, “I am worried.”
Teagan nodded, but said nothing at first. After a long moment, he reminded him, “She just led Ferelden to victory over the archdemon, surely she should be all right.”
Fergus turned then, and Teagan saw a deep, raw pain that had been hidden before. “I’m more worried about her now that she doesn’t have the Blight to occupy her,” he admitted. “Now that she isn’t ... otherwise engaged, I am afraid that the past, what happened to our family, may catch up to her. She does not need to be alone right now.”
Modifié par ladyames, 15 juillet 2010 - 09:12 .
Retour en haut
:wub:
Ok so its a Teagan fic and I'm biased but still... 
