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[sylvanaerie]

Thanks to Xandurpein (for his assistance with the male PoV) and Lady Damodred for her talents at Beta Reading.

And thanks to Bioware for making such wonderful characters they made me eager to hear more of their story.  All rights to the characters within and the world of Thedas belong to them, I just borrowed them for my tale.


                                                                Threshold
 
Chapter One
 
Post Coronation
 
The cheering crowds outside heralded the dawn of a new age as the Blight that had barely begun had been defeated. Neria stood to the side watching her friends gathered in a knot amongst well wishers. Leliana, the bard, loved being the center of attention of a cluster of nobles, regaling them with tales of their exploits. Doubtless she would find a new patron among their number. Wynne and Shale had their heads together and Neria knew they were planning on going to Tevinter again to try to find a way for Shale to be restored to dwarf form. She doubted such could be accomplished, but as skilled as she was, she knew there was much she still didn’t know about magic. Sten stood near a table grumbling about the lack of cake (he had been promised cake). Her mabari, Muffin, sat at Sten’s feet hoping for the occasional scrap to be dropped his way. Oghren and Teagan were joking and laughing about Oghren’s ability to imbibe everything and anything and she thought she might have heard…pickle juice? Her mentor, Irving sat nearby watching the festivities with an almost paternal pride in his young apprentice.
 
Zevran saw her standing to one side and walked over to her, one finger dragging his collar away from his throat for the hundredth time. His smile was warm and casual, though she knew him well enough to know this was the last place he wanted to be.
 
“I’ll be glad when this pomp and ceremony is over, won’t you? This would be the perfect opportunity for an assassination attempt.” he said. “So I believe I heard you say you would be traveling? Going anywhere in particular?”
 
“I don’t know really. Alistair and I are the last two Wardens in Ferelden. I should do something about that, but I don’t want to go to Amaranthine. I don’t want to think for a while.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, trying to stave off the headache that had been pounding in her head since early morning.
 
He nodded. “Understandable. You have had to think for all of us for a while now. Let the Orlesians rebuild the order. You should come with me to Par Vollen. It is a pleasant place I hear…”
 
She chuckled. “Your oath is done, my friend. You are free now.”
 
A momentary flash of disappointment crossed his eyes then was quickly hidden. Neria got the feeling he had always hoped for a little something more from her, but he could never entice her. But despite whatever disappointment he might have felt, Zevran was pragmatic about the vagaries of life.
 
“Oh, I’m sure the Crows will come after me again. They aren’t the type to just let go like that. And if we should cross paths, and I am dragging a string of them behind me, do me a favor and kill them for me, eh? You wouldn’t hold a little bloodbath against me would you?”
 
“A little bloodbath sounds good right about now. This affair is so boring,” she giggled at last and he smiled.
 
“See this is why I like you, always up for a little fun.”
 
She hugged him then and he returned it warmly. 
 
“I’ll miss you most of all,” she whispered into his ear.
 
“I never knew what it was to have a real friend before. It was a lucky day for me that I took that contract.”
 
Neria glanced over his shoulder to see Alistair watching as the woman he loved hugged the handsome elf and couldn’t quite hide the quick expression of jealousy. She knew he wanted to be the one to hold her and congratulate her, but this damn formal affair kept him at arms’ length. More than that stayed his hand though.
 
He looked so good in the gold ceremonial armor, his hair neatly trimmed and shaved. In a way she kind of missed the scruffier Alistair on the road. He had been hers then. Now he belonged to all of Ferelden. Might as well get it over with, she thought. Squaring her shoulders she walked up the steps to him.
 
“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, his eyes, those damn eyes, looking at her the way that made her knees go limp and her stomach do crazy flutters. “I was so scared I would lose you.”
 
“Thanks to Morrigan,” she murmured softly.
 
“Yes, she must have been telling the truth about, you know, the ritual. I understand she just left, straight from the battle, not a word.”
 
“That’s how she wanted it.”
 
“I’m just worried about what this ritual is going to cost in the long run. The Orlesian Wardens are already asking questions. What should I tell them?”
 
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Tell them the truth?”
 
“That they were wrong? Oh, I can see that now. ‘All you need is a maleficar willing to have your demon baby…who knew?’ No, I think I’ll just shrug and look stupid, it’s a talent.”
 
There was an awkward pause then. There had been a lot of those in the weeks since the Landsmeet. Once he could fill the emptiness between them with his chatter, but that had been in short supply since they had severed their relationship.
 
“Arl Eamon says he’ll be staying for a time to help you get settled into…you know…” she said, trying to fill the void.
 
“I wish you were staying, too, but I understand why you can’t. Maker, this is going to be difficult. I never wanted this you know. I’d give anything to be back on the road with you.”
 
She heard both the words he spoke and the ones left unspoken and nodded.
 
“Me, too, but we both agreed this is best. Ferelden needed a king of the Theirin bloodline to unite it after the civil war and the Blight tore it apart. Mages have no place in politics. ‘Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him.’ I get it. I don’t like it but I get it.”
 
He looked at her with such earnestness her resolve weakened and she wanted to just hug him, take everything back and run away with him again.
 
“I wish you would let me do something for you. I’m king now, surely there’s something you could want or need? If it’s within my power, ask and it’s yours.”
 
Her eyes finally teared up as the knot in her chest loosened and her chin trembled with the effort to control them.
 
“I beg of you then, do not seek me out.  Do not follow me, do not write me. Let me go. Give me peace; that’s all I want from this until such time as I can bear it.”
 
“This is what you want?”
 
No. “Yes.”
 
He looked heartbroken, but she had to think of what was best for them both now. And because she couldn’t bear looking at him any longer, she hugged him and kissed him against all propriety or good sense in front of the gathered assemblage. On some level everyone had been aware of the Hero of Ferelden and eyes had been on her from the beginning. Now people openly stared in astonishment as the king and his love said their farewells.
 
Fight for me, damn you! Her mind begged him. Tell them all to go to the Black City! You’re the king, fight for me!
 
But no words were spoken in the silence that followed as she pulled back and looked at him and then stepped away. In the end, duty won out.
 
She walked down the steps toward the huge double doors where the honor guard stood waiting to escort her to her carriage for the parade down the streets of a ravaged Denerim. Each step away from Alistair felt as if she were treading on broken glass.
 
“Let’s get this over with,” she told the soldier who opened the door for her.
 
“Right this way, my lady,” he said.
 
She blinked as the sunlight hit her eyes and knuckled them to wipe away the tears as much as clear her eyes of the bright light. Along the streets people had lined up and the cheering increased in volume as she emerged from the palace.
 
“Oh, Maker,” she murmured. “I’ll be glad when this dies down and I can go back to my life again.”
 
Hours later at Eamon’s estate in Denerim, a weary Neria returned and flopped down on her bed dispiritedly. She had never felt so drained, emotionally, physically and mentally. Not even slaying the archedemon was this difficult.
 
She answered the knock at her door and found Eamon of all people standing there. She stepped back to afford him entry into the room, curious what brought him here. Of course this was his estate, but she had expected him to be with Alistair in the palace.
 
“The nation owes you much, Grey Warden,” Eamon said. “We have a king on the throne and you ended the Blight. I must admit I had my doubts that only two of you could get the job done but you did.”
 
“Three--we had Riordan, too,” she pointed out, remembering the rugged rogue who had given his life to ground the beast.
 
“Of course,” Eamon nodded. “I know you have done much for Ferelden and I loathe asking more of you, but I have to know. What is your relationship with Alistair?”
 
Her brows furrowed in displeasure at his probing question. Her tone bordered on rudeness. “I hardly see where that is your business, Arl Eamon.”
 
“I only ask because Alistair can not afford…distractions at this time. He has to turn his efforts to restoring Denerim and the country.”
 
“Then I suppose you will be glad to know that whatever we had is now done. Alistair knows his duty as do I. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to be alone.”
 
“I didn’t come just to talk about Alistair, I also wanted to ask something of you.” At her glare he clarified. “For Connor’s sake.”
 
Her face softened. She had developed a soft spot for Eamon’s little boy.
 
“Of course, what does he need?”
 
“The First Enchanter…Irving, was it? Has said he would see to the boy’s training. I was hoping though that you would go with them when they leave tomorrow. You are a little more familiar to him and he trusts you. Could you see he is taken care of when they arrive at the tower? I will be so busy here I doubt I will have much time to check in on him.”
 
She had no desire whatsoever to return to that gilded cage and pitied Connor for being trapped in it.
 
She nodded. “Of course, Arl Eamon, but you do know I will have other duties as a Grey Warden now that may lead me away from the tower.”
 
“I understand, I just was hoping you could help him out those first few days. They will be difficult for him. Isolde rarely let him leave her sight all his life. This has been hard on both of them.”
           
Neria wisely held her tongue not wanting to give Eamon an earful of her opinion of the Arlessa.  She had little respect for a woman who would ruthlessly allow the slaughter of men, women and children all under her care for the sake of her child. She supposed a parent’s love would allow them to commit some heinous acts, but she didn’t know if she would ever understand that.
 
“How is the Arlessa?  I can’t imagine she’s taking this well.”
 
“She has taken to her bed. I doubt she’ll be able to come out for several days.”
           
“Well, I had best be to bed then. Long ride ahead tomorrow.”
 
“Teagan said he would accompany you to the tower. He wants to check on his estate before returning to Redcliffe.”
 
“That’s fine.  I like Bann Teagan. He’s good company.”
 
Neria shut the door and went back to her bed to curl up on it. She pulled the pillow Alistair had used when they shared this room into her arms and squeezed it, wishing she could still smell him on it, but they had changed the sheets and even the pillows themselves. With a sob, she closed her eyes and prayed sleep would bring her some oblivion.

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 17 octobre 2010 - 01:45 .

[MireliA]

Couldn't you just hit Alistair when he pulls this? And its good to see another Teagan fic...



Love it so far

[Piceron]

Yummy, Teagan and Surana. Who could ask for more?



Great start. I'll be watching for updates

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Two
 
The weather held the next day. Eamon had made his estate available to the First Enchanter and his aides so Neria didn’t have to go looking him up somewhere in the city. Irving was already in the carriage when she arrived in the courtyard. Eamon was saying goodbye to his son, or trying to anyway. Isolde had a death grip on her boy, not wanting to let him go. Covering his face in kisses and sobbing incoherently, she watched as her son was loaded up into the carriage.
 
“Andraste’s mercy! Not my Connor! Please, don’t take him away from me!”
 
Neria frowned. Couldn’t she see she was upsetting the boy further with these histrionics? Connor was already frightened and Isolde wasn’t helping. It’s not like either of them had a choice in the matter anyway. Finally, Eamon gave his son a final hug and took Isolde back into the estate, not wanting the scene to further escalate into something any more traumatic for the boy. Neria’s keen ears picked up some of their words, hearing their exchange as they walked away. Muffin cocked his head to one side and whined plaintively in response to the human’s distress. Absently, Neria stroked behind his ear.
 
“Isolde, you promised to behave. Can’t you see you’re upsetting the boy?”
 
The only response was garbled and she couldn’t follow it any further as the door shut on the conversation. 
 
Teagan rode up. “I’m to escort you as far as the tower before going to Rainesfere,” he said. His voice dropped. “I must admit, I’m glad you chose to come with us. Connor is frightened enough and I know you will help immensely; you have been a very good friend to my family and to me as well.”
 
“Thank you, Bann Teagan. You don’t know how much you coming along will mean to Connor, trust me. I know Eamon will be busy here in the weeks ahead and I hope you can visit Connor often.”
 
“As do I, my lady,” he said. “Shall we get started?”
 
She remembered visiting days at the tower. She had known they would never come, but she always wished her parents would have visited her. At least then she would have had some memories of them. But they were too poor, or too ashamed to have birthed a mage child, to come. So she grew up in the tower with only Jowan for a friend. She had been “Irving’s star pupil,” as some of the nastier inhabitants had called her, and she had left behind nothing when Duncan arrived and recruited her.
 
She sat in the carriage beside Connor and smiled encouragingly at the boy. Muffin, sensing the child’s distress, put his huge head in the boy’s lap and tried to push his nose under his hand to be stroked. Connor was too pale and his eyes were a bit too wide. His foolish mother had made things worse for the lad this morning and she hoped he would find some friends to ease his loss. She patted his hand reassuringly.
 
“It will be all right, Connor, you will see. Time will fly and there is so much to learn, not just magic. You will learn numbers and letters and many…mysteries of the world there.”

Irving watched them, smiling benignly at past and present pupils. He was incredibly proud of the young elven woman. Though he had no children of his own, she was the closest he would ever have and he felt no father could be prouder. With her success in the Grey Wardens, he hoped this would herald a new age for mages. King Alistair had promised there would be more autonomy for the Circle and in that there was hope, though Irving doubted he would live to see that day.
 
The carriage containing Irving, Connor, Neria and two senior enchanters was flanked by Teagan and two of Eamon’s knights whom Neria recognized as Ser Perth and Ser Donnal. They began the long journey to Kin’loch Hold.
 
They weren’t an hour’s journey out when they passed through a village ravaged by darkspawn. No signs of life were evident as they passed through.
 
The taint was present everywhere, on bodies on buildings and fences. Even the very ground looked sickened and black. Plants had withered and died in twisted forms, animals were bent and mangled as if torn asunder by an angry, overgrown child. Bodies of men, women and children were strewn about in disarray some with pieces torn from their flesh as if partially eaten.
 
“I can’t tell,” she murmured under her breath. “There’s so much taint all over everything…. They’ve been here a while. Please, stop the carriage,” she called to the driver.
 
She smiled at Connor and squeezed his hand, then stepped from the carriage, pulling out her staff, the lyrium etchings along the iron shod wood humming. Teagan and the knights dismounted and drew their blades.
           
Unsure what they would encounter, the companions moved through the village, looking for survivors or any darkspawn they could vent some of their growing rage on. Early morning mist and the remnants of smoke hampered them by reducing their visual acuity down to just a few feet. Frustrated, feeling as if she were failing those who trusted her, Neria closed her eyes and tried to concentrate as Alistair had shown her. Sensing the darkspawn was not an exact science, but she felt personally responsible for everyone with her as she was the only Grey Warden in their midst.
 
            “Something…ahead,” she said finally, looking back to see Teagan not far from her, watching her. She nodded and pointed and he fanned out to hopefully flank what was there.
 
A low growling from her mabari warned her before she saw them. Three hurlocks and five genlocks burst from the mists running toward her. She spun her staff overhead, sparks flying from it, her hand weaving the spell as quickly as the words of power formed in her mind and found voice from her lips.
 
A fireball dropped amongst the creatures and they were knocked to the ground by the concussive blast. The genlocks didn’t get back up, but the three hurlocks rose, still flaming, and began to move toward her. Teagan fell upon the first, striking it with his sword and it snarled, its attention grabbed. The other two turned at his taunt and joined in the fray. Muffin charged with an almost defiant bark to attack a second.
 
Mindless creatures, Neria thought as she reached out with her mind, once more pulling magic from her will.
 
The hurlock Teagan had engaged became encased in a block of ice that shattered when he struck it with his blade, sending bits of it everywhere. Ser Perth dispatched the third with a blow from his huge two-handed blade, knocking it back when he did so.
 
Neria was glad he was there to provide added muscle to their group.
 
As Teagan moved to strike at the one attacking Muffin, a sound from behind him turned everyone’s attention to a new threat as an ogre came barreling out of the mist at the bann. Muffin tackled the hurlock he was fighting and it went down in a spray of blood as the dog bit into its throat.
 
“Bann Teagan!” Ser Perth cried and tried to move and intercept the creature.
 
It struck the knight, knocking him off his feet and flinging him into a charred wall nearby. The mabari ran toward it, snapping at its heels but was kicked away, stunned, and the ogre plucked the bann up off the ground, roaring in his face.
 
“No, you don’t!” Neria snarled. 
 
Again she summoned the words of power, but she knew encasing the ogre would render it impervious to harm as long as the field lasted. Instead she placed the field of energy harmlessly around the man in its grasp.
 
A glowing column surrounded Teagan, preventing him from moving, but also preventing the creature from harming him. It frowned as the bann slipped from its grasp and he remained in mid-air floating about a meter off the ground. The creature stood, looked around, and the only thing moving was the tiny elven woman. It sensed the taint inside her and its dim mind realized she was different from the other creatures in the village. Akin, but not.
 
Growling, it lowered its head and Neria tried to bring up a spell to stun it, but it was too fast. It rammed into her, knocking the wind out of her and throwing her back. She cried out as she heard ribs crack and felt something burst inside her.
 
At the edge of her vision she saw Ser Perth rise and strike the huge creature. A blast of lightning flew over her head and she felt her hair rise in response to the electrical charge. Breathing was a torture and pain dragged her into unconsciousness.
 
She awoke in the carriage, feeling the warmth of Petra’s healing spell mending broken bones and torn tissues. Petra had only recently been promoted to Senior Enchanter and been made an aide to Irving and she still felt a need to prove herself.
 
 Neria saw Irving nearby and Connor was watching white faced as life poured back into her body. The boy was rattled and Neria recalled what Isolde had said about violence scaring him.
 
Her first words as memories caught up to her was, “Bann Teagan! Oh, Maker, is he all right?”
 
“I’m here, Neria. I was lucky you dropped that…shield spell over me.”
 
“A most unusual application of the spell,” said Irving with an amused smile. “You will have to tell me what else you have learned on the road since I saw you last, child.”
 
“Well, it kept him alive…” she grumbled at the slightly teasing tone in Irving’s voice. “Are there any others?” she asked.
 
“None now, good woman,” said Ser Perth as he walked up to the carriage. “Ser Donnal and I have done a reconnaissance of the perimeter and we found a few more stragglers, but they have been dispatched. I believe that is all, but I am no Grey Warden.”
 
“Can you sense any more of them, Neria?” Irving asked.
 
“No. I think Ser Perth is right. Thank you, Petra.”
 
“I’m just glad you’re all right,” said Petra.
 
“Keep an eye open. In this fog we won’t be able to see them till they’re upon us,” said Teagan.
 
They traveled, nerves jumping at every noise, but as they got further from the village, they found no signs of sentient life, for good or ill. Neria began to relax as they left the village and its taint behind and the sun finally rose, burning away the mist and putting the companions in a much more relaxed mood.
 
“So, when will we reach the tower?” Connor asked anxiously, for the tenth time since this morning and looking around them at the surrounding countryside.
 
“So just where did you learn that particular trick with the force field spell, Neria?” Irving asked. Even when he didn’t say it, she still heard “child.”
 
Muffin whined, bored already.
 
A miserable expression on her face, Neria sunk down in her seat. This was going to be a long ride.
 

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Three
 
As they traveled westward, the evidence of the Blight was everywhere. Looking at the sickened landscape was depressing Neria. She knew she acted as fast as she could and did all she could gathering help from the four corners of Ferelden, but seeing the aftermath and suffering from the Blight still made her heart ache. Muffin was the first to notice his mistress’s distress and put his head in her lap, whining in sympathy, shoving his wet nose under her hand to be scratched.  She sniffled and murmured softly to her hound, wiping at her eyes with the fingers of her other hand.

Connor dozed between Neria and Irving in the carriage as did Petra and Kinnon, Irving’s aides, on the opposite seat. It was just Irving and Neria awake so far this morning.
 
“You did all you could, child. You stopped the Blight before it could consume Ferelden. And it was accomplished by only two Grey Wardens. Do you know how remarkable that was?” Irving said, trying to be encouraging.
 
She smiled through her tears at her mentor. “Not alone, but yes, I know it was something to be proud of. I’ll remember that in the days to come. I just wish it hadn’t been so hard or gotten so far. Damn Loghain and his stubbornness. We’ll never know if Ostagar could have been won. I think even had Loghain charged and we had won, since the archdemon never showed itself, it would have been so much worse because the king would have believed the blight was over or that it was never a true blight to begin with.
 
“I guess in the long run it worked out. I just wish so many hadn’t been lost to reach that point.”
 
“Do you remember me telling you sometimes sacrifices must be made? You accomplished much good even though much was lost. It’s not hopeless. Blights have happened before and will happen again. The land will recover. Perhaps you might see that some day and take some joy in it again.”
 
“Thank you, First Enchanter.”
 
“Now that you and I have a little privacy for a bit with those sleepyheads over there, may I ask your plans now that the Blight is done?”
 
“I’m still a Warden. That…doesn’t change, even after the Blight.”
 
From his expression she could tell he wasn’t entirely comfortable with her answer. She had always been honest with her mentor and she felt a twinge of guilt. It was a change she hadn’t expected for herself—this newfound need for secrecy.
 
“True.”
 
“But I don’t know what to do. I’m the only Warden left in Ferelden now. I don’t know how to recruit more or what I am supposed to do now. Alistair told me that the Orlesian Wardens would be going to Amaranthine when they get here, but that’s months away. And to be honest, I’ve had enough of fighting and death and killing. I just need some time to enjoy the peace I worked so hard to achieve. I deserve that for a little bit, don’t I?”
 
“I would ask you to come back to the Circle. We need you, but I won’t be selfish. I know you always felt a little trapped there; it’s why I suggested to Duncan that he recruit you when he came to the Tower. He was looking for a Grey Warden and I knew you would do the Circle proud. You belong to the Grey Wardens now and to all of Ferelden. I just want you to know, Neria, the Circle never forgets its children. You will always have a home there should you wish it.”
 
Pigs would fly before she would ever imprison herself there again, but Neria was tactful. Just because she had no desire to return to the tower didn’t mean she disliked the people there, especially Irving who had been nothing but patient and kind to her. She was actually quite fond of some of the mages, who had been a lot kinder to her after she had saved them from Uldred’s abominations, and her heart always held a soft spot for the templar, Cullen, who had confessed to having a bit of a crush on her. That had not ended well at all, though she hardly faulted him for that.
 
She frowned. After Cullen she had thought she would have chosen her next crush with a bit more wisdom, but she had fallen for Alistair almost without meaning to. She seemed to have knack for attracting the unattainable ones. Thinking of him brought recent memories to mind and she shook her head to dispel images of them on the road in happier times. There had been much death and tragedy, but there had been love, too. And though the parting caused her sadness and pain, it did not diminish what they had shared. She supposed in time she would remember him fondly and not with a bitter ache in her heart. For now it was too soon to see past the pain.
 
She leaned against the window frame and watched Teagan riding nearby. He seemed to be almost dozing on his mount and she grinned, wondering how he managed to stay in his saddle doing that. Horses confounded her; she was actually a little intimidated by their size and power and she had never even seen one before she began her travels with Alistair. Teagan had told her that he had been riding almost before he could walk and spent a lot of his time in Denerim and the surrounding forests hunting with his nephew, King Cailan.
 
He had little taste for politics, and although he certainly wasn’t inept at it, he didn’t care for it much, leaving such matters to his older brother, Eamon. Frowning, Neria recalled her last conversation with Eamon. He certainly seemed eager to get her out of Denerim, which she supposed was a good thing for all of them, but a part of her wondered now just how much of a hand Eamon had had in convincing Alistair to give her up. They had stayed at his estate in Denerim for quite some time before the Landsmeet and he had ample opportunity to do so. She didn’t want to think of that. She liked to believe that the decision to end that was mutual.  
 
For most of the day her thoughts were turned inward and her responses to questions were little more than vague acknowledgements.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Later that day they approached a small village, this one inhabited and active to Neria’s delight. In fact, they were in the midst of what seemed to be festivities celebrating the end of the Blight.
 
Teagan bought them all hot meals at the tavern, and was in such a good mood that he bought a round of drinks for the house. Connor seemed a little more animated and less frightened. Neria was glad to see him warming up a bit to Irving and that boded well for his ability to adapt. Irving was amusing the boy with minor slight of hand trickery and his little pupil was enraptured. He’s going to be all right, she thought.
 
Petra and Kinnon, as mages, hadn’t left the tower much their entire lives and this was definitely a new experience for them as well. Boisterous music, free flowing ale, mead and brandy, and ebullient people surrounded them. Neria looked at the celebrants and couldn’t understand their mood, though she was certainly glad to see it.
 
“People certainly are happy!” she said.
 
“Not so hard to understand,” said Teagan. “They survived a bloody civil war and the Blight all in a year’s time. They’re just working off a little nervous, happy energy. It’s harmless fun.”
 
She giggled. “Maybe so, but I doubt they’ll get any work done this week.”
 
He laughed the same way he had with Oghren and she couldn’t help smiling, his laughter infectious. Teagan seemed to really enjoy life and a part of her envied that joy. There had been precious little laughter the past year and it felt good to hear it and even better to take part.
 
“Uncle Teagan, can we stay a day or two? Please!” Connor pleaded.
 
“You didn’t get enough in Denerim?” Teagan teased.
 
“This isn’t the same,” the boy said, eyes glittering with excitement.
 
“Well, I don’t see why not. A day or two spent in town here wouldn’t hurt, provided we can find rooms. Let me go see.”
 
Teagan returned, shaking his head. “It seems the refugees from the surrounding area all came here to escape the horde. The tavern is full, as is the chantry. It looks like we’ll be camping out again tonight.”
 
“That seems like a fine plan. The weather has been nice the past few days.” Irving agreed.
 
Connor was actually excited at the prospect of a campout, as most any young boy would be. His life had been sheltered up to now and if he had to go to the tower at least he had a little extra time for some freedom and adventure before being locked away in that gilded cage.
           
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
That night Neria sat watching the flames of the fire in the center of camp. The others were asleep, except for her mabari who lay next to her, and Ser Perth keeping watch nearby. Four tents had been set up for the traveling companions. And most of them were sleeping.
 
She felt Teagan come sit beside her on the fallen log that served them as a seat. She was surprised to see him still up.
 
“What’s the matter, Bann Teagan? Can’t sleep?”
 
“No, I can’t. I wanted to ask you something when the others were sleeping. I didn’t want to be overheard,” he said, his voice a low whisper.
 
Her voice dropped as well. “Of course, what did you want to ask me?”
 
“One of the reasons I’m going home is there’s trouble in Rainesfere,” he said. “There have been ‘incidents’ on the outskirts of the lands, dead livestock and the like.”
 
“Has anyone been hurt?”
 
“Not so far, but I need to look into the matter.”
 
“Do you think it’s the darkspawn?”
                       
They had engaged some of the horde in Redcliffe. Had some moved further north?
 
“I don’t know. The seneschal just said they were mutilated. I told Eamon I would see Connor to the tower, but I was hoping you would go with me. I loathe asking you, I owe you so much already—the lives of my family, my life, the villagers of Redcliffe—but, I need your help, my lady.”
 
“Of course I will. I wish you had said something sooner.”
 
“I wasn’t going to say anything at all,” he said.
 
“Why not? Bann Teagan, I consider you a friend. I hope you would feel you can come to me if you need my help.”
 
He smiled then, that worried furrow between his brows smoothing out.
 
“I should have remembered that and I feel the same.”
 
“Promise me that you won’t keep something like this from me,” she said. “If I can help you, know I will do my best, especially if the problem is darkspawn.”
 
Now it was Neria’s turn to frown. “I wonder why they aren’t going back to the Deep Roads. I had actually intended to head to Orzammar for a while and help the dwarves, but they don’t seem to be going back. I thought they always went back!”
 
“I don’t know what is going on either. Something has them moving.”
 
“Maybe your problem is just a bear or wolves. Let’s not borrow trouble. I’ll go with you to investigate this. If it’s darkspawn or something related to the taint, I’ll be able to tell. Let’s just see what’s there first.”
 
“I can’t really deny Connor a few more hours of freedom. A day won’t make that much difference. We have to leave before tomorrow afternoon though.”
 
“Then you had best get some sleep if you are going to be chasing your nephew around the marketplace,” she said.
 
“I was hoping you would help me with that,” he countered.
 
She shook her head and giggled. “Oh, no, not I, Bann Teagan. You made the promise, you accept the consequences of it.”
 
“Damn. Well in that case you have to save me a dance and I won’t take no for an answer, even if I have to tie him to a chair.”
 
“Agreed. Good night, Bann Teagan,” she said.
 
“Neria, could you do me a favor? When we are in public you can address me by my title, but as we are friends, in private or in close company, please call me Teagan.”
 
She nodded. “Teagan it is. Good night, Teagan.”

[Piceron]

I like your Surana. She's very sensible. I like how she considers Alistair a crush and is able to look back on their relationship even now without a lot of bitterness and anger. I'm looking forward to exploring more of Teagan's personality as he interacts with Neria.

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Four

Teagan held Connor’s hand as the mage who enchanted the phylacteries drawn from young apprentices took the blood sample needed from the boy. Connor was actually being brave about it and didn’t even cry out once. The woman smiled kindly at him and gave him a candy to suck on before leaving with phylactery.

Teagan hunkered down to his nephew’s level and balanced himself on his heels, giving the boy a warm hug.

“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, Connor. You be good and do as you’re told.”

“Time flies quickly here, Connor, and there’s so much to learn. Irving is a good teacher. Don’t fear your power, learn to use it and respect it, and you’ll do well,” Neria said. “And you’ll have no more bad dreams, I promise.”

As much as she hated the Tower’s restrictions, she felt training was a necessary thing to prevent what happened at Redcliffe from happening again.

“I wish you were staying,” Connor said.

“I’m sorry. I have Grey Warden stuff to do. I will try to come and visit you though,” she said.

He hugged her warmly and she smiled, returning it. He really was a sweet boy and she was glad she had been able to save him from the demon.

The boat ride back across the lake was quiet. Teagan’s face was troubled. It was obvious that he worried for his nephew and thoughts of the troubles on his own lands were weighing heavily on him. Neria wished she knew what to say to take that frown from his face. She wondered if her own family had felt this way when the templars had taken her.

Teagan helped her off the boat and walked to his mount. Neria looked for the carriage, but it and the two knights were gone.

“Eamon gave them orders to return it to Denerim. Ser Perth and Ser Donall returned to Redcliffe to ensure it was still safe. From here, you’ll have to ride with me. Unless you prefer I get you your own?” Teagan asked. “Rainesfere isn’t too far from here, with any luck we will be there by tomorrow afternoon.”

She looked at the horse and couldn’t imagine herself trying to control one on her own. She watched him swing effortlessly into the saddle and reach out a hand to help her up behind him. She shook her head and then with a sigh took the hand he offered. With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she held on almost white knuckled to the man in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Neria, I wish I had known you felt this way, I would have had the carriage stay. Eilir is a reliable mount, she will get us home safely.”

He patted her hand in a manner she expected was to reassure her, but she was too tense to appreciate sympathy.

***

They set up camp just before evening beside the lake and Teagan was trying to coax a fish out of the water. Neria rubbed her aching arms, thighs and bottom. Riding required a lot more concentration than some spells, she thought. She walked down to where the man was working his line and sat on the grass nearby to watch him. Her mabari lay beside her, one paw on her foot.

Something about Teagan made her comfortable just being near him. Her heart was so filled with turmoil following the events of the past few weeks and he was always so calm and gentle.

“You know, you would do better if you just relaxed. You won’t be so sore later,” he said quietly. “Eilir is a very gentle and a reliable mount. I wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you, Neria.”

“I’ll try,” she promised.

“You always seem so capable and strong. Sometimes I have to stop and remember you’re only human like the rest of us,” he said.

“But I’m not human, I’m an elf.”

He looked at her and grinned at her mischievous smirk. “I stand corrected.”

A splash and a jerk from the line heralded a fat trout and Teagan pulled it ashore quickly. It was large enough to be a meal for both of them, and he cleaned it quickly and brought it back to the fire. At her perplexed look, he raised a brow.

“I take it you don’t cook?”

She grinned. “I can set fire to it, but I don’t think you would care for charred trout.”

“Well, my skills in that respect are pretty lacking as well. Hopefully I can fix something resembling food by the time it’s done.”

An hour later full tummies made them relaxed and comfortable. Neria had produced some herbs from her materials pouch that made a mild tea for them to drink and aid in their digestion. They sat in a comfortable silence watching the stars overhead and enjoying each other’s company without saying a word.

“That was actually very good, Teagan.”

“Thanks. I do a lot of traveling from Rainesfere to Redcliffe and have had to take care of myself a lot. I even made trips to Denerim to take Cailan hunting.”

He frowned or seemed sad to her and she could guess where his thoughts had led him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Your nephew seemed like a very nice man when I met him.”

“You met him? When was this? At Ostagar?”

She loathed to bring it up, but shrugged. “Yes. At Ostagar, he met Duncan and me on the road heading in. We spoke a little.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“He was very kind. I…I was rude to him initially. I still was feeling a bit prickly as I hadn’t wanted to join the Grey Wardens at the time. Then he just laughed off my rudeness and he made me feel very welcome.”

“Cailan was like that. So is Alistair. Just like their father. They have this way about them. I don’t know what it is, but it makes people comfortable with them. Did you know Maric brought your order back to Ferelden?”

“So I was told.”

“Cailan always did have a fascination for the Wardens. I’m glad you spoke to him for a bit.”

“He seemed more impressed that I was a mage than a Grey Warden. But yes, he did have a strong love for the Wardens.”

“Did you see…?” His half spoken question required no elaboration.

“No, I was at the top of the tower of Ishal. I never saw what happened.” She thought a moment then decided perhaps he would want to know what she had found on their return several weeks later. “Alistair and I found his body. We gave him a pyre to send him to the Maker.”

A great deal of tension left Teagan’s face then and he seemed more at peace. “Thank the Maker. And thank you, my friend, for telling me this. You have no idea what this means.”

“I’m sorry; I thought Alistair had told you. If I had known I would have said something to you sooner.”

She wouldn’t elaborate on the condition of the body. It had been the only one left that was recognizable in Ostagar—with remarkably few wounds or mutilations, unlike the other corpses. The darkspawn had strung him up as a trophy to display on the bridge between the tower side of the fortress and the king’s camp.

“We avenged him, Teagan. We killed every darkspawn in that place before we left. I know it doesn’t bring him back but, we killed all those we could find.”

“Good,” he said savagely.

She put her hand on his and patted it reassuringly, trying to offer what comfort she could. He smiled at her and returned the gesture. For just a moment, both held the gesture a little too long for comfort. Neria felt the warmth of his hand penetrate her skin and send shivers down her back. Then both broke the contact simultaneously.

She set down her cup and rose, brushing grass off her robes.

“Good night, Teagan. I think I should get some sleep.”

“Good night, Neria. Sleep well—we should be in Rainesfere by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll take first watch.”

He rose and walked to the edge of the camp her eyes following him.

Muffin rose from his side of the fire to trot over to Neria’s bedroll and lay next to her, his dark eyes reflecting the fire nearby. She draped one arm over her large protective companion and sighed, remembering how Teagan’s hand had felt on hers, if only for a moment.

“I hope this trouble is something simple. I can’t do complicated right now,” she murmured to Muffin. “Muffin, guard.”

Maker’s breath, an attraction, however fleeting, to one more unattainable man was a complication she wasn’t ready to deal with. He didn’t seem to have noticed her response and she sighed in relief, burying her face in the mabari’s fur. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning she could hardly move, she was so stiff and sore. They ate a quick breakfast of traveling meat and hard biscuits and Neria used her herb pouch again for some tea. She had a formidable array of healing spells, but she had learned the best way to not need healing was to stay healthy, and part of her training was in knowing what herbs to use to maintain an aura of health.

“When we get to Rainesfere tonight, it’ll be too late to do any investigation anyway. You can soak in a hot tub for a while, that should help,” said Teagan.

She nodded, but she didn’t relish riding on a horse all day. Teagan was right maybe she would do better if she just relaxed. Eilir seemed like a nice animal and Neria needed to get over her irrational fear. It seemed silly to be afraid of an animal when she was a darkspawn fighting Grey Warden. She had stood up to ogres and an Old God, surely one beast of burden didn’t compare with that.

It was an uneventful trip and the weather held though storm clouds moved in later in the morning and threatened the landscape. They arrived late in the afternoon and Neria was glad to finally see Teagan’s estate before them. By now every inch of her except her head seemed to be burning with tension. Teagan slipped off and helped her down, turning the reins over to the groom.

Neria followed him into his home where he was greeted by his manservant, Victor, a tall, thin, bald man about Teagan’s age.

“We will be having an honored guest for a time, Victor. This is Neria Surana of the Grey Wardens. Please have Cook prepare something for us to eat, nothing heavy. I will be in my study. And please have Brynna draw a bath for the lady. Give her the guest room third from the landing.”

Victor nodded to his master and gave the “honored guest” a glance of restrained curiosity, mingling just enough disapproval of her bedraggled state to border, without crossing, insolence.

“This way, miss,” he said.

Without waiting to see if she followed, he led the way up the stairs to a large room kept ready for use by Guerrin guests. Neria’s eyes widened in surprise that such luxury was at her disposal. She admired the huge bed, nightstand and vanity with a mirror, all made of matching dark wood. Thick tapestries adorned the walls depicting knights and mabari in royal hunts and a woven carpet on the hardwood floor kept the cold from bare feet.

“It will take time to prepare a bath,” Victor said. “If you wish to leave the room I can have you summoned for it.”

“Thank you,” she said moving to the window seat to watch the clouds moving in.
“It looks like it might….”

Her words were cut off by the click of the door as he left the room. Well, that was abrupt, she thought. I suppose manners aren’t for elves.

Neria wandered around the room, running her hands along the counterpane, the velvet curtains, coming to look at the vanity. A brush, hand mirror, some decorative hair pins and a nail file were all placed neatly there though there were no make up vials present. She imagined whatever woman had used these things hadn’t been here for a long time. Everything looked clean and set neatly in its place.

She frowned at her reflection in the glass mirror, dark red hair parted down the middle and tucked behind her ears, a face that had become leaner over the weeks as depression had sucked away her appetite. Her eyes were larger than a human’s, and like all elves, a little unsettling to those who saw them. The color was a muddled hazel at times, brown or green, depending on who saw them and in what light. Dark circles she hadn’t had before were etched under her eyes. Her clothing practically hung on her slight frame and was torn and stained with blood. She understood better now why the servant had looked at her the way he did.

“Oh, Maker, I’m so thin and pale. How did I reach this point? I look like I should be begging in the streets of Denerim.”

Looking at this woman she had become, who bore no resemblance to the one she had been, the enormity of her circumstances finally struck her. If only she could reverse time. All that power at her fingertips and she was as helpless as any mortal to change fate.

This was the same expression Alistair had in his eyes that day she had convinced the Landsmeet to accept him as king, as caught up in the inexorable tide of fate as she. If only….

“I’m sorry,” she cried, tears slipping from her eyes. “I wish I could go back to the Landsmeet. I’d give anything to go back and let Anora keep her throne. She wanted it so badly and you never did and it cost us both everything we had.”

She folded her arms on the vanity and lay her head down on them, sobbing quietly. Muffin moved to his mistress and laid his head on her lap, whining plaintively, trying in his own loyal, loving way to ease her distress. After a bit, she cried herself out and exhaustion ushered her into a doze.

A gentle shake roused her from slumber. Neria saw that Brynna had prepared the bath, letting her sleep in her seat. She must have really been tired to have not heard any of this and was glad she had managed to catch a little rest. Neria sat up and tried to disrobe but the ties were all knotted with dried blood and her fingers shook with frustration. She sobbed anew and the maid tried to comfort her, not really understanding why the young woman was so distressed.

“Let me, my lady,” said Brynna. She produced a small pair of sewing scissors from the vanity and cut the laces. “I will fetch you something to wear for when you get out.”

Neria, freed of the robes, let them drop to the floor and stepped into the hot bath. Aromatic herbs scented it and she relaxed as the hot water soothed sore muscles. She frowned a moment, realizing it was all for naught since she would be riding again tomorrow, then shrugged and smoothed her brow. For now she would enjoy what pleasures she was able to.

“This might do…. It’s a little long—it wasn’t made for elves, but you can tuck the extra fabric and it will work for tonight. We’ll mend your…dress and try to get it cleaned,” said Brynna, placed a dark green tunic and matching trousers on the bed and picked up the discarded mage robes gingerly.

Brynna started a fire in the fireplace and set out some linen for Neria to use after the bath. Then she slipped out of the room to give the young woman some privacy. The water was getting cold when she finally climbed out and dried herself off.

She dressed in the clothes Brynna had provided, and though they were loose fitting, she supposed they would do. She just had to cinch up the trousers a bit and roll up the sleeves to fit her shorter arms. Obviously Bann Teagan didn’t have many elven guests.

She slipped out the door and padded on bare feet looking for the dining room. She ran into Brynna coming back up to empty the tub.

“Mistress, Bann Teagan is in the study. We brought your meal there.”

She led Neria to a door at the end of the hall and then curtsied and left. Neria rapped on the door and heard Teagan bid her enter. She walked in and stood rather sheepishly in the oversized garments. He was gentleman enough to hide his mirth…barely.

She pointed a finger. “You laugh now; you wait till tomorrow when this won’t stay on me.”

From his amused expression she could tell where his thoughts had strayed and Teagan seemed to have some difficulty getting that image out of his head. She wanted to slap that grin off his face.

After a moment he composed himself and regarded her seriously.

“I don’t have many elves visiting me. It’s really not that bad. Do you have anything else aside from your robes you can wear?” he asked.

“No, if I did, I would be wearing them now.”

“I have a set of my old armor I wore as a youth you can wear for tomorrow’s excursion. It should fit you, if not we will try to find something else. Now, come, get something to eat. You certainly look like you are feeling better.”

She tried a nibble of the venison on the tray and finding it acceptable took that, broke off a piece of bread, some cheese and poured some wine in a goblet. She chose a seat on a sofa in front of the fireplace to eat rather than the small table in the room. Muffin sat at her feet hoping for any choice tidbits she might drop. She broke off some of her meat and passed it to him watching him gulp it down in one bite.

“I do feel better actually, and I appreciate your hospitality, Teagan, please don’t think I don’t. I won’t disturb you; I’ll just eat over here and watch the fire a bit.”

* * *

Teagan had already eaten, so he was going over the accounts for the estate and found his seneschal had been doing an admirable job in his absence. The notations for the missing livestock had occurred every three days. There was an area of the fence that had required repair on two separate occasions in the same spot. If not for the Blight, this would have been dealt with sooner. But as it was, with all the troubles in Redcliffe and then Denerim, he hadn’t had much time to attend to his own problems.

With a frown he ran his fingers over his face, trying to smooth away the worry. His eyes fell on a much more pleasant view and smiled watching Neria sitting on the sofa by the fire.

She had tucked her feet under her and was leaning over the armrest, resting her cheek on her arm. He was glad she had come with him to Rainesfere, and more than once was grateful for her presence and thanked his good fortune. It never hurt to have your own personal Grey Warden friend to check out problems with you. She wasn’t moving and he stood, coming over to look down at her. He smiled benignly at seeing she was fast asleep.

Not wanting to disturb her, he took a blanket off the back of the sofa and spread it over her. Many a night he had fallen asleep on the sofa here and knew she would be comfortable. He smoothed her hair back from her face and repositioned her arm so it wouldn’t be painfully numb when she woke. She stirred a bit then went back to sleep.

He recalled the earlier touch that had started off so innocently and then changed in tone. He had broken contact then, hastily, in his discomfort but now his fingers lingered on the cheek feeling her warm breath on them. Her face was so soft, as was the hand that had touched his by the lake. She was pretty and it had been a while since Teagan had been with anyone intimately. He frowned, chastising himself. The timing wasn’t right; she was his friend and she was still mourning what she lost with Alistair.

“Good night, Neria,” he said, then left the room. “Muffin, come. She’ll be safe in here. Let’s see if we can’t get you some pork bits, boy.”

The mabari looked up at him, his tail thumping at his name and the word “pork” then followed the bann out the door.

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 23 juillet 2010 - 04:43 .

[sylvanaerie]

Piceron wrote...

I like your Surana. She's very sensible. I like how she considers Alistair a crush and is able to look back on their relationship even now without a lot of bitterness and anger. I'm looking forward to exploring more of Teagan's personality as he interacts with Neria.

Thanks, I'm really enjoying writing this story a lot.  I'm already working hard on the sequel (on chapter 7 so far).  I'm glad you are liking it

[sylvanaerie]

 
Chapter Five
 
The storm broke the previous night and broken branches and bent foliage were strewn all over the landscape. The air had a decided nip in it, hinting that winter wasn’t far away. Neria stood on the porch watching the sky. It was still dark and overcast and the rain had reduced to a slow drizzle now, just enough that travel was going to be miserable.
 
She was dressed in an old mail hauberk Teagan had told her belonged to his great grandfather when he was a boy. Teagan had used it as a boy and had planned on passing it on to Connor when he got a bit older. It was a link from one generation of Guerrins to the newest one. It was still in fine shape, having been maintained and while loose didn’t hang on her. She was rather touched that he insisted she wear it. 
 
Teagan had on his chain mail, anticipating trouble, but hoping it might be nothing more than a bear or wolves.
 
“The rain probably washed all clues away, but I still want to go see what’s there,” he said.
 
“If it’s darkspawn, the taint won’t have washed away. That takes time or fire.”
 
Teagan mounted his horse and pulled Neria up behind him.
 
“Are you sure you don’t want to try to ride one of your own?” he asked.
 
There was an odd hitch to his voice indicating to her that he was as uncomfortable with her proximity as she felt by his. Her cheeks burned red, but she was still too terrified to contemplate trying to manage a horse on her own.
 
She couldn’t repress a shudder. “You’re lucky to get me on this one. I trust you not to let me get hurt, Teagan.”
 
Though she wished she could have him come with them, she ordered her mabari to stay behind. He would never be able to keep up and she didn’t want to lose him in unfamiliar territory. They set off in the direction of the last attack.
 
With some urging, their mount headed at a fast clip toward the area most recently struck.
The estate was a bit larger than a farmhold, as she had first supposed it to be. They passed several acres of fields that stood empty now as harvest had come and winter approached.
 
In the forest surrounding the fields, the drizzle didn’t penetrate as badly and they were able to ride unhindered. Of course, without that discomfort each was made more aware of the other’s proximity. Neria almost wished she had asked for another mount. She was acutely conscious of the growing physical attraction she felt for the man she had her arms around, realizing it might just be more than a fleeting sensation as their hands had touched. Oh, Maker, she prayed, no…. Just no, not another one.
                        *                                  *                                  *
 
Teagan was having difficulty focusing on the trail, aware of her warm body pressed to his back and her arms wrapped around him. She seemed a lot more relaxed today and that almost made it worse for him, as her movements behind him were more natural, less self conscious. He took a deep breath and let it go, focusing everything on the trail around them. When he returned to Redcliffe he vowed he would look up that lovely redhead at the tavern and be rid of this maddening distraction. He wouldn’t presume to take advantage of Neria and Bella was always willing for a quick tumble.
 
The forest stilled. It was almost too quiet as they neared the last place indicated as an attack scene. The ground around them was blackened, plants trampled and dead. Teagan slipped off his mount and helped Neria down, walking along the line of destruction, his hand on the pommel of his blade.
 
He watched Neria pause and tilt her head slightly as if listening to a voice he couldn’t hear, a frown of concentration on her face. Legends spoke of Grey Warden abilities and now he was getting a first hand view of them. He understood now how she was able to detect them in the fog that encompassed the village they had passed through earlier in their journey.
 
“I don’t sense anything,” she said.
 
“It looks like darkspawn,” Teagan said. “But it isn’t? Someone went to great trouble to make it look that way though. Who would do this? How was it done?”
 
He watched her bend down and pass her fingers over it feeling a slight trepidation for her despite her assurance it wasn’t tainted.
 
“It’s almost like it was burned. Some of the alchemical substances I saw being used in the tower could duplicate this effect, I think,” she said. “I think it’s been orchestrated to look like taint. If it was some alchemical concoction the rain has washed away any means I could use to determine what it might have been.”
 
There were the remnants of a bloody patch where the last animal had been slaughtered and Teagan ran his hands over it, trying to find some clue. The thunderstorm had washed away anything that might have pointed to some cause. He stood, frowning. If only he had gotten here a day earlier. Now it looked like he would have to wait till the next attack.
 
“I don’t know how we’ll be able to track them now. The rain has removed all traces,” he said, disappointed.
 
“Perhaps this will break when winter sets in,” she said. “Who in their right minds likes going out in a Fereldan snow storm?”
 
“Only someone up to no good,” said Teagan. “I don’t like this, Neria. This has been going on for several weeks now.”
 
Teagan saw a glint of something in the forest and his eyes widened realizing what it was a second before the crossbow bolt was released. He dove into her, knocking her down, the bolt whizzing over their heads to lodge in a tree trunk. She was trying to push him off so she could retaliate when the sound of a second and third bolt shushed over them.
 
“Stay down,” he whispered. “Keep low and follow me.”
 
Crawling through the thick grass, trying to stay as close to the ground as possible, they reached the forest edge again and crawled into the cover of leaves and tree trunks.. They regained their feet, but crouching low, they tried to move around and flank whoever was taking shots at them.
 
A qunari mercenary engaged them and Teagan deflected his opponent’s first thrust. Neria aimed her staff and spoke the words of power, fire leaping from her fingers. The qunari cried out, his hands clutching his face, backing away from them. Teagan pressed the attack and shoved his sword between the plates of the mercenary’s armor. He struggled to dislodge the blade while the mercenary collapsed at his feet. Teagan saw another mercenary move from around a tree to raise a pair of wicked looking daggers, the blades glistening with some greenish substance and heard Neria casting a spell from behind him.
 
She cast first a cold spell, freezing the assassin on the spot, and then followed that up with a flash of lightning. The blade came free of the mercenary’s armor and he hefted it comfortably in his hand again.
 
He grinned—they had caught a break, he felt. Then he heard a gasp of pain from behind him. He looked at Neria, at first not comprehending what was wrong. She looked down and he saw the tip of a sword emerging from a blossom of blood spreading over her chest. She looked at Teagan, an expression of confusion and pain etched on her face which had gone stark white in shock. Horror seized at him as he realized she had been hurt, badly.
 
“I’m…bleeding…” she gasped. She lifted her hands to cast a healing spell, but her knees buckled under her and she slipped to the ground, the spell fizzling out in a flash of blue fire.
 
Teagan saw her assailant for a moment, a man of indiscriminate size in a dark green cloak, his face shadowed. He snarled, bringing his sword to bear on the man, but a globe of flash powder was dropped before him, disorienting him and when his eyes finished readjusting to the scene, the man was gone.
 
Teagan was at her side in moments, lifting her. “We have to get you back to the house,” he said.
 
When he reached his mount he unbuckled her armor, hastily pulling it off her. Then he reached into the saddlebags and pulled out a poultice, holding it to the bleeding wound trying to staunch the flow. He tied it off and then hefting her carefully got her across his horse.
 
She grunted as he lifted her to the saddle and climbed up next to her and he counted it fortunate she was still alive enough to feel pain. Looking around one last time to ensure no other crossbow bolts were coming their way, he applied spurs to his horse’s side and rode away at as fast a pace as he thought safe.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
By the time they got back to the house Neria was unconscious and unresponsive. Teagan was met by the two maids and Victor. Both he and the mage were covered in blood, most of it hers, and her pale skin was ghostly white.
 
She was placed on the bed in her room and her dressing was changed. Teagan hovered nearby a worried frown on his face. So much blood…. She was going to need more than herbal poultices. He ran down to the stables and grabbed the groom’s assistant, pulling the young man to a horse.
 
“Go! Go to the mage tower—tell them we have someone gravely injured. Have them send a healer! As soon as possible! Tell them it’s Neria.”
 
The young man nodded and saddled the horse, mounted and tore off across the countryside. With any luck help should arrive within a couple of days.
 
“Maker, please let her live to see it,” he said.
 
He ran back upstairs to her room where Brynna was trying to make Neria comfortable in the bed. Muffin had placed himself at the foot of the bed and refused to be moved. Teagan had to stare hard to see she breathed still in short, little, fast, gasping breaths. She looks so pale, he thought.
 
“We’ve done all we can, Bann Teagan. Let’s pray that the healer gets here in time,” Brynna said.
 
“Thank you, Brynna,” he said. 
 
He sat on the bed beside her and took her cold hand in his, trying to will strength into her. If anything happened to her while she had been helping him, how could he ever face Alistair?
 
Brynna came back in with a basin of warm water and set it on the nightstand. She pulled a screen out of the wardrobe and set it up to afford him some privacy. “Bann Teagan, you have to get out of that armor and get cleaned up.”
 
He unbuckled the armor, washed the blood off himself and changed into the tunic and pants Brynna had brought him then returned to Neria’s side. He pulled the vanity chair over so he wouldn’t disturb her and watched her chest rise and fall as she panted, trying to get enough air in her lungs to compensate for the lack of blood flow. She clung to life tenaciously and he prayed it would be enough to hold her to this world.
 
He tended her with his own hands all that day and long into the night, collapsing from exhaustion sometime late in the night. Never once did she stir in that time. Then towards dawn he felt her moving and lifted his head from the bed.
 
“Neria, thank the Maker! Don’t move—a healer has been sent for. Do you remember what happened?”
 
“The assassins….” she said, her voice very quiet.
 
“Yes, we killed two of them, but a third got you from behind,” he said
 
She winced. “So that’s what happened.”
 
“Can you heal yourself, Neria?” he asked.
 
She shook her head. “The energies required would take too much from me. I doubt I would survive the casting.”
           
“Then you have to hang on. Healing is coming.”
 
“I shall try.” At his worried expression she tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace. “I don’t mind really, Teagan. What more is there for a Grey Warden who’s already ended the Blight?”
           
“Don’t talk that way. No one as young as you are should talk that way. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
 
He didn’t like the sad finality on her face. What wasn’t she telling him?
 
“What more is left for me, Teagan? I can’t go back to the Circle. I have no family, no home. All that I have is a short, brutal life and then if I live long enough, to die under a rock in the Deep Roads fighting darkspawn. No one would care.”
 
He frowned, worry making his voice sharp and angry. “I said stop that talk! You’re wrong, Neria. You killed the archdemon, you stopped the Blight. You saved Redcliffe and me. You’re the strongest person I know, and I know it may not mean much, but I would care if you died. So stop this self pity and live, damn you! I wouldn’t be able to face Alistair again if I let you die.”
 
Muffin rose, growling at Teagan’s tone, and tried to insinuate himself between Teagan and his mistress. Neria petted him, trying to reassure the loyal canine.
           
“It’s all right, Muffin. Teagan and I are just talking.” She took the man’s hand to reassure the dog they were not arguing. “I’m just so cold and so tired. They say that you return to the Maker when you die. That isn’t such a bad thing I think. Do you think it’s warm in the Beyond? Would you hold me, please, Teagan?”
 
“Only if you promise not to die in my arms,” he said warily.
 
“I promise. I mean, what could you do to me if I break that promise?”          
           
He pulled off his boots and settled in beside her, holding her gently. She felt so fragile, like one of the glass figurines he had seen in the Denerim Market. Holding her now, he realized the illusion of strength she gave was all in her mind not her body. It came from her indomitable will. He just had to ensure she put that will toward living now.
 
“I’d just have to follow you into the Fade and drag you back out, kicking and screaming if I had to. Punishment would be decided later…” he said.
 
She smiled. “Why, Bann Teagan, are you trying to flirt with me?”
 
He raised a brow. “Is it working?”
 
“Maybe…” She frowned. “Teagan, why haven’t you married?”
 
“Well, Eamon is the first born and there was never any pressure on me to produce an heir. I never found anyone I loved that much. I have been in love a couple of times, but it never lasted.” He was pensive for a moment then decided to risk a little confession. “I’ve recently met one woman who attracted my interest that way, but she didn’t notice me.”
 
“She must be the stupidest woman in all of Ferelden.”
 
“The timing wasn’t right,” he said. “She had her heart set on someone else by the time I met her. Not that I didn’t try to get her attention, mind you.”
 
“You know, at the coronation ceremony, I overheard some of the female banns. You’re quite the eligible bachelor. You should consider giving this woman a chance. Does she even know? Have you told her?”
 
“No, I haven’t,” he said, a slight, mocking lilt to his voice.
 
She was quiet for a time and he thought she might have fallen asleep. Finally, she spoke. “Whatever happened to her?”
 
“You know how the story ends—she saved the world, but lost her prince.”
 
There was no response and he looked down at her to see she had slipped into unconsciousness again. He didn’t know if she had heard him or not. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep holding her.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
His seneschal knocked on the door that afternoon and entered. Andrew was a small man with mousy brown hair and brown eyes, but his non-assuming appearance hid a quick and capable mind. Teagan had known him for years, and when it came time for him to assume control of Rainesfere, Andrew had been with him to help.
 
“I just got back from Redcliffe,” said Andrew. “Can we talk?”
 
Teagan looked at Neria who seemed to be resting a bit quieter and disengaged himself. “We can talk in my study,” he said.
 
Once in his study, Teagan leaned against the huge mahogany desk. “What have you learned?”
 
“I put out some feelers at the inn. We should hear something by the end of the week. I suspect one of the banns myself. Possibly Bann Loren, but I wouldn’t presume to point finger. It must be the civil war and the Blight. With those so recent, some banns tried to use the unrest to seize power. This far from Denerim, there are still the lawless to deal with.”
 
Teagan didn’t like this. Loren was a shifty sort whose loyalties moved to whoever was top dog at the moment for his own political gain. He was someone who had butted heads with Eamon in the past. Nothing could be proven, but he did seem a likely candidate for sneaking in and trying to take what he could.
 
“I understand the assassins attacked a young woman?” Andrew asked. “Was that the woman I saw you with in there?”
 
“Yes, my companion, Neria was injured. She’s gravely wounded and the Circle has been sent for. They will come, she’s one of their own.”
 
“That is a shame,” said Andrew. “A mage would have been of great help in the investigation.”
 
“I wouldn’t write her off just yet. She’s young and strong and she’s a Grey Warden as well. They only pick the best.”
 
Andrew nodded. “I brought a small contingent from Redcliffe. The soldiers there were pretty depleted, but I figured a few would be enough. Did you get an idea of how many were involved when they attacked you?”
 
“There were three that I saw. I’m fairly certain we killed two of them, but the third got away. He threw down some kind of powder ball and got away while my eyes were clearing. At least one of them was a qunari mercenary. The others were no common bandits either.”
 
“Did you get a good look at the one who escaped?”
 
“I only saw he was dressed in a green cloak, I didn’t see his face. I don’t understand why he let me live. He only attacked Neria then disappeared.”
 
“Do you think she might have been the target?”
 
“No, there was no way they would have been expecting me to bring a Grey Warden here,” Teagan shook his head. “I didn’t know she would agree to come till I left Denerim with her.”
 
“I’ll head out with the patrol, see what I can find,” said Andrew.
 
“Good luck, and be careful, my friend. They like shooting from the trees,” Teagan warned.
 
“I will,” Andrew moved to the door and paused. “I’m sorry about your friend. I promise, I'll bring the one who hurt her to you for your judgment.”
 
Teagan buried his face in his hands and sighed. There was just one task left to do today. He moved to his desk, pulled out parchment and opened the inkwell. Dipping the quill pen in the ink, he began to write. He didn’t want to accept she might die, but he couldn’t delay telling Alistair what had happened any more, even if the king couldn’t arrive in time to say his farewells.
 
He would send the groom’s assistant back out with the missive to Denerim once he returned with the healer and he learned if the news he wrote would be good or bad.

[Piceron]

Aw, the bit where she is asking him why he wasn't married was bittersweet. Nicely done.

[MireliA]

Poor Neria and like Piceron, I enjoyed the scene where she's asking him if he'd not married. Mind I'm surprised she didn't work out who he was talking about. Perhaps when she's more conscious

[SaharaShark]

Awesome tale Sylvanaerie! I can't wait for more!

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Six
 
Teagan spent most of the next two days trying to work on things that needed doing around the estate, anything to keep him busy and his mind off the woman dying in the room upstairs. That Neria had held on this long seemed a miracle and for the twentieth time today he scanned the horizon to the east looking for his messenger. At the moment chopping firewood in preparation for the coming winter burned off his nervous energy.
 
Adding to his worries was the fact his friend, Andrew had gone out looking for the cause of the trouble on Rainesfere’s lands before the winter snows set in and confined them all.
 
He kept remembering Neria’s arms around him, and her words, said with such confidence, that she trusted him not to let her get hurt. He knew it wasn’t his fault in his head but he didn’t feel that in his heart. The physical exertion of chopping firewood allowed him to stockpile for the winter, which could be quite harsh here in Rainesfere, and allowed him moments of forgetfulness.
 
Once more he looked up, hopeful of seeing something break the monotony of the world’s edge. He blinked and swiped his sleeve over his eyes to remove the sweat and looked again. It wasn’t just an illusion, he did see something coming. He stopped what he was doing and put down the axe to go stand on the step and get a better view. He saw a flash of gold cloth and knew help had arrived.
 
He raced inside and ran up to Neria’s room. Brynna looked up from trying to coax some broth into her patient and stared at him quizzically. His hope was nearly dashed by how small and helpless Neria seemed in the huge bed but it didn’t dampen his news.
 
“The healer has come,” Teagan announced.
 
“Good, I don’t think I could stand lying here much longer,” said Neria.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Victor ushered in Petra who had arrived from the tower. She went to Neria’s bedside and began her chant, blue magic flowing from her fingers to Neria’s pale body. Tense minutes passed as Teagan watched anxiously for any change to the woman and was rewarded as her face took on a less strained expression though it was no less pale.
 
Petra looked exhausted, stepping back to sit on the vanity seat. “If she stays still and doesn’t aggravate it, the wound will heal,” she said. “I’ve done all I can for now.”
 
Muffin sensed the mood of the humans around him and barked happily. Teagan felt if he could he would have done so as well. As it was he satisfied himself with moving to Neria’s bedside and taking her hand.
 
“It looks like you’ll have to stay here for a bit longer,” he said, teasing.
 
“Oh joy,” she murmured. “What use am I to anyone here on my back? Petra, how long will I be like this?”
 
“At least a week, I’m sorry I can’t do more. If Wynne were here, maybe she could have. And you’ll be very weak for a while. You lost a lot of blood.”
 
“I’ll take it,” Neria said. “I didn’t think I was going to live at all. Thank you, Petra.”
 
“Brynna, make up a room for our guest and ensure the groom’s assistant…”
 
“Michael, Bann Teagan,” the young man supplied his name quickly. It never hurt to have the notice of your bann.
 
“…Michael has something to eat. I need you to deliver some messages to Denerim for me, Michael.”
 
Brynna led the other two out and Teagan breathed a little easier now that he knew there was hope.
 
“Neria, I have to inform Alistair of what has happened.”
 
“No, Teagan, don’t tell him. Either he’ll want to disrupt his duties in Denerim to come see me…or he won’t come at all.”
 
Teagan wasn’t sure from her tone which would be worse for her. Alistair’s presence might make it harder for her to bear if he did come and she would be heartbroken if he chose not to. He decided Alistair still needed to be informed of what had happened.
 
“Alistair would want to know, Neria. Would you rather he heard it as some idle gossip? Or not hear the good news that you’ll live and then worry about you needlessly?”
 
“You’re right, I didn’t think of that. Well, make it plain in your letter that I’m all right and he doesn’t need to worry.”
 
“I’d better go finish writing that letter then—I want Michael to deliver it as soon as possible.” He squeezed her hand gently and brought it to his lips. “I’m glad you’re going to be all right, Neria.”
 
Teagan was so relieved—it felt as if the weight of the world had dropped from his shoulders. He hadn’t felt this good since that dawn following the last attack in Redcliffe when all had seemed hopeless and Neria and her companions had saved them from the undead plague.
 
In his study he wrote the necessary letters, one to the Circle to ask for Petra to remain till her patient was fully recovered, another to Alistair in Denerim and a third to Eamon informing him of what little he knew about the attacks. He gave Michael a few coins for traveling expenses, and a fresh mount, and watched him ride off from the study window.
 
He was worried about Andrew. His friend hadn’t returned yet with any news and Teagan wondered what was happening out there. It rankled him that he hadn’t been able to learn more about the matter and he was determined to ride out himself tomorrow if Andrew didn’t return.
 
He decided talking with Neria would actually help him feel better about it if for no other reason than she understood the weight of responsibility, provided she was feeling up to it. He found her lying in her bed resting and went in to sit beside her. Muffin walked over to him and put his head in Teagan’s lap.
 
“She’s going to be all right, boy,” he said, scratching behind the dog’s ear.
 
She opened one eye and regarded him with a smile. “I’m not dead yet, you know.”
 
He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you, I’m just so relieved!”
 
“You and me both—I got lazy expecting Alistair or Wynne or Zevran to cover my back when I was attacked. I promise you I won’t let my guard down again like that, Teagan. I’m really sorry I worried you.”
 
“You aren’t to blame, I should have gone out there with some men to guard us and at the least we should have taken Muffin.”
 
Muffin barked as if in total agreement.
 
“That was my decision and don’t blame yourself, I don’t. If we had gone out there with guards they may have been killed. I’m a Grey Warden, we don’t die easily.”
 
“I can see that. You and Alistair have given all of Ferelden a new respect for your Order. The stories of Ostagar…. I heard some of them, but all say that the Wardens stood their ground when others fled.”
 
His worried frown hadn’t left his face.
 
“Something is still troubling you though.” she said.
 
“My seneschal, Andrew, went out the day we were attacked and has yet to return. It’s frustrating when you can only just wait.”
 
“That must have been what it was like when Redcliffe was attacked. You know, I never told you how much I really admired you for coming in and stepping up and taking responsibility for the defense of the village. I know Ser Perth wanted you in the chantry to protect you as well as the villagers, but that you were willing to give your life to defend them…. I don’t think very many nobles would have done that.”
 
He smiled, remembering that brief exchange in the chantry. Knowing her better, he knew it now for what it was. She had been trying to distract him from how bleak the near future had been.
 
“You asked me if I had family of my own,” he said. “I said I didn’t, though I would be lucky to find a woman as lovely as yourself. And then I asked, ‘What of you? Are you married?’”
 
She chuckled. “I told you I was a mage.”
 
“Mages can marry, or so I am told.”
 
“They can indeed if the man is brave enough.”
 
“I can think of several reasons why one would be willing to be so brave.”
 
She giggled then and then winced. “Ow, ow…. It only hurts when I laugh. Please don’t make me laugh.”
 
“Should I be all serious and dour?”
 
“Yes, you should. You’ll kill me with laughter if you don’t.”
 
“Then let me add something else I said that day. You are brave as well as beautiful, my friend. The Maker smiled on me indeed when he sent you to Redcliffe,” he said, smiling. Speaking those words again made him look over at her, studying her features. His admiration of her had only grown since they had met in Redcliffe. He added in a whisper, “If only there had been…”
 
More time? Different circumstances? Alistair not between them? It was not the first time Teagan’s mind had raced with possibilities about her. He smiled and the thought came to mind, a man can dream. With the thought came another.   He began to wonder, was this more than just physical attraction? He admired her wit and strength of will and she had always been a friend.   That was all it was, right? 
 
He ignored the nagging little voice inside him that said that it might be more than that.
 
“You’re a good friend, Neria, you make me forget my woes, if only for a moment. Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things I must attend to.”
 
He brought her hand to his lips to kiss the back of it then laid it on the counterpane and stepped to the door.
 
“Teagan,” she called to him. He paused. “Could you make sure Cook gives Muffin something to eat? The poor thing hasn’t eaten since I don’t know when.”
 
“He ate yesterday afternoon, I’ll make sure he has something.” He addressed the mabari. “Come, Muffin, let’s get you a nice soup bone.”
 
Muffin barked happily and Teagan grinned. All was right with Muffin’s world when the woman he loved was well and happy. 
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
She watched him depart the room with a pensive expression on her face. Her fingers brushed over where he had kissed her hand and she smiled, remembering the warmth of his breath on her, the callous on his thumb as it had caressed her palm. 
 
She blushed and smiled at the thoughts flittering through her head as she replayed the moments he was in here, the words they exchanged.
 
What a lovely man, she thought. He was always taking care of everyone else. She wondered how much sleep he had gotten the past few days. From the look of the dark circles under his eyes, she would guess not much. 
 
But the look in those clear, blue eyes was what had held her and pulled her in. Were she not injured, she would have responded far more eagerly to his unconscious charisma.
 
Once recovered, she knew she had to go for both their sakes. If she stayed much longer, she would give in to her body’s urgings and so would he. The result of such a fling had the potential for disastrous heartbreak.
 
“Oh, Maker,” she whispered and buried her face in her hands. “What am I going to do?”                

[jenncgf]

"Oh, Maker," she whispered and buried her face in her hands. "What am I going to do?"



STAY, NERIA, STAAAAY!



... ahem.



I like this story. You're going a great job with both Neria and Squeegan.

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Seven

Deciding to take Eilir out for one more ride before winter set in and confined them to the estate, Teagan saddled his mount the next morning and turned her westward. He shouldn’t encounter trouble if he didn’t go far. He needed to think and he always did his best thinking when he was riding.

About an hour’s ride from the estate he came upon one of the soldiers from Redcliffe who had arrived with Andrew. He was staggering across the meadow, holding his stomach and weaving heavily, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Teagan swung down off his mount and ran up to him, looking around for any other signs of his assailants. The man finally collapsed into Teagan’s arms and he helped him to the ground.

“What happened? Where are the others?”

“All dead, my lord,” he gasped. He gasped for breath, coughed, blood coming up from his lungs. “They ambushed us…. Ten of them…. We managed to kill them…but your seneschal was taken down. I’m the only….” His eyes closed and he ceased to breathe.

Teagan’s eyes narrowed. He followed the man’s trail back to the ambush site, finding bodies bearing both Redcliffe’s standard and men in nondescript green cloaks. None of the men he recognized, though the soldiers had a familiar look about them as men he had seen in Redcliffe.

He didn’t find Andrew’s body. Nor did he find any trail leading out except for the one he had followed to find it.

“What’s going on here?” he hissed through his teeth. “It’s as if they dropped from the very sky onto them!”

Anger and frustration tugged at him and he hit one of the tall trees with his fist. Something fell and hit him, making him jump back. Looking closer he realized it was a rope.

“From the trees…. Maker’s breath, they came from the trees!”

He pulled one of the green cloaks off a dead bandit and covered himself with it, moving among the trees looking for other ropes. Now that he knew what he was looking for, the forest was full of them. So this was how they had managed to move about without leaving trails and had ambushed the men so suddenly.

He scouted the area thoroughly, but found no sign of Andrew’s body. Obviously not all of the bandits were dead. Had they taken his friend to get information from him? Had he escaped?

Teagan climbed the rope to a large branch stretching into another tree. Here there was a trail of blood and broken leaves, bent twigs. They hadn’t expected anyone to follow them and the trail was as glaring as if they had set up torches to signal the way.

He followed it to a large clearing where two men were arguing. A cave nearby was clearly their hideout, as even from his vantage in the trees, Teagan saw it had been used for some time.

“With the end of the Blight, the plan has to change. This won’t get blamed on the darkspawn much longer,” said the first man.

“We don’t need them anymore. Let’s just move in and kill them all,” said the other.

Another man joined them, but Teagan didn’t recognize his voice either. “I’m tired of wasting my time here in this piddling freehold. When are we going to be done with this?”

The first one spoke again, “We can’t move on them till Bann Loren gives the word. He’s still gathering his mercenaries and that won’t be till after the next Landsmeet.”

So that’s the plan, Teagan thought. Doubtless Loren will be trying to gain other allies at the Landsmeet this spring! Loghain was dead and still there was disquiet among some of his supporters and Teagan knew there would be some who would throw their lots in with Loren just for a chance to get Redcliffe.

Teagan tried to see if any others were hiding in the cave, but saw none, just the three men standing in the clearing. He slipped down silently nearby and approached them, hiding his features, hand on the pommel of his blade. With any luck the element of surprise would grant him a quick victory.

“Jon, is that you? We thought you were dead!” said one of the men as he approached.

“Not Jon,” Teagan growled as he drove his sword through the one who had greeted him.

The second one had time to pull his blade before Teagan deflected the blow, knocked him to the ground and drove his sword into the man’s middle. The third man bore down on him with his two-handed sword and Teagan kicked him in the midsection with his boot, knocking the man off balance. He stumbled back, eyes widening in surprise as a blade penetrated his back.

Then he slid to the ground, dead. Teagan was relieved to see the man who had come to his assistance was none other than Andrew.

“Drew, thank the Maker, you live!” he clasped his friend’s hand in a warm handshake. Then he looked down at the bodies. “What happened?”

“Well, we got ambushed and I was knocked out. They carried me back here and I pretended to be unconscious. I think they were going to try to get information from me about the arling.”

“I wish that one hadn’t died,” Teagan said, pointing to the last man. I wanted to know who else may be involved in this. Did you see any others?”

“As far as I can tell this may be it. How did you find your way here?”

Teagan pointed to the treetops. “They have ropes all over the forest they use to travel.”

“Fortunate for me you found that,” said Andrew.

Teagan went into the cave and found it was stockpiled with weapons, grain, dried meat, water and other supplies from a long siege of attrition against Rainesfere.

“I can think of better uses for these than bandits. They’ve been poaching and stockpiling for a while to move against my family.”

“I’ll organize some men to get these and bring them back to the estate. We might have time before the first winter storms set in,” said Andrew. “What should we do with the bodies?”

“They don’t deserve a pyre, but I’m going to give them one,” Teagan said. “They’ll attract predators, and maybe if the others see they’ve been found out, they’ll leave. Let the Maker deal with them. I’ll need to send a messenger to my brother as well. If we play our cards right, Loren won’t know what hit him at the Landsmeet next spring.”

He grabbed a torch and went outside to take care of the ugly business of disposing of the bodies.

Riding home, Teagan became more and more anxious, eager to see if all was indeed well there. Andrew had ridden further south towards Redcliffe to get some men to gather up the stockpile in the cave.

All seemed quiet at his home. Teagan dismounted, passed the reins to the groomsman and walked up the steps. Victor met him at the door and looked shocked to see his bann covered in blood, though relieved none of it appeared to be his. He took the steps two at a time and came to Neria’s door, pausing only long enough to knock and get her invitation to enter.

She was sitting on the window seat with Petra, talking amiably about Circle matters. Muffin lay at her feet, letting her toes give him a belly rub while he groaned in happy dog bliss. His relief at seeing her safe and comfortable brightened his mood. Her eyes widened in concern and Petra asked if he was injured. He shook his head.

“My lady, if you’ll excuse us, I would like to speak to Neria in private,” he said.

Petra smiled and ducked her head bashfully.

“Of course, Bann Teagan. We’ll talk later, Neria.”

“What’s wrong? Why are you covered in blood? What happened, Teagan?” Neria asked, a frown furrowing her brow. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face. He pulled off his riding gloves and dropped them on the windowsill. “I found the bandits’ hideout, a cave on the lands to the east, surrounded by rocky outcrop.”

“That’s good then, right?” she asked. He nodded. “I suppose I should be moving on then. I won’t stay any longer than I have to, I promise. I’ll leave as soon as I’m well. That should only be a couple more days.”

“Don’t,” he said. She looked at him and he sat on the window seat beside her. “Rather I should ask: where do you want to go?”

“I have nowhere to go. To be honest, I never expected to survive the Blight. Grey Wardens don’t have…high life expectancies.”

“Then stay here.”

“I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome,” she said. “Staying…is not an option.”

Sooner or later the darkspawn always find Grey Wardens, she thought. But she could hardly confess that to Teagan.

“Do you wish to leave?”

For a long time she didn’t answer, her hesitation building tension within him.

“No, I just…yes, I do. I…I don’t know,” she said finally.

“Why do you hesitate?”

“Because I like you, Teagan,” she snapped. “You’re an attractive man, I admit that, but I don’t need more complications in my life right now.”

Hope blossomed in his chest. He leaned back more comfortably, resting his elbow on the windowsill and his cheek in his palm.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Neria.”

“Doesn’t it?” Tears welled up in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. Maker’s breath, it seemed she had done more crying in the past month than she had her entire life! “I’m an elf and a mage and a Grey Warden. How many more complications do you want?”

Crestfallen, he hid his disappointment. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Neria. I like you a lot and I admit you’re a very attractive woman, too. I don’t want to hurt you. If you want to go, then I won’t stop you, but I really wish you would stay. I’m no beast to force my attention on a woman who doesn’t wish it. I can control my…urges, I promise you that.”

His words made her reconsider. Hadn’t Cullen done that? To the point where it led to madness? She wouldn’t wish such on anyone.

In the Circle she had learned to take her pleasures where she found them. The templars were always watching, always present, there was precious little privacy. Was she going to live her life always alone, too afraid to just enjoy it?

“No,” she said. “I don’t want that.”

He frowned. He couldn’t turn his feelings on and off like that. Then he felt her hand touch his cheek and felt her turn his face to look at her. She placed her other hand on his other cheek. She looked into his clear blue eyes and he felt as if her elven ones were peering into his very soul.

“I want no song and dance about forever or ‘I love you’ if it’s not meant honestly. I can offer you only here and now, the pleasure of the joining, as lovers and friends.”

“So, intimate friendship…and if one of us decides they want more?” he asked.

“If you so desire, we’ll discuss it if it comes to that, but I don't want you to complicate things by demanding more from me. Promise me that.”

“Then friendship, I won’t ask for more than you are willing to give,” he agreed.

“Of course, you know I can’t do much while I am still recovering, but take this as a promise.”

Their first kiss was sweet and gentle, infinitely tender, and Teagan held her as if afraid he would waken and shatter the dream. His palm cupped her soft cheek and held her face to his, enjoying the taste and feel of her. When they parted, his racing heart wouldn’t slow down. He brushed a lock of hair back from her face.

“What better incentive is there to recover than that?” she said.

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 30 juillet 2010 - 08:14 .

[sylvanaerie]

Double post sorry

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 30 juillet 2010 - 08:16 .

[MireliA]

Aww that's sweet. Their first kiss, while he's covered in blood. It must be like being in the Blight again for her... .



No seriously, it was lovely

[sylvanaerie]

MireliA wrote...

Aww that's sweet. Their first kiss, while he's covered in blood. It must be like being in the Blight again for her... .

No seriously, it was lovely

LOL this made me Lulz!!!  I guess Neria thinks blood is hawt!!

[sylvanaerie]

Some slight suggestive adult content to follow but doesn't exceed the board's standards.  Anyway, here's chapter 8


Chapter Eight
 
Teagan lay awake listening to the quiet in the house. Late at night, when everything was still, was normally his favorite time of the day. He did his best thinking then, but tonight his thoughts were tumultuous.
 
A week had passed since Neria had proposed this “intimate friendship” thing and he was willing to attempt it, but since her initial proposal there had been little more than kisses to keep him satisfied. It was frustrating to walk the tightrope between his desires and her fear.
 
Not that her fear was without reason, but he didn’t know how to quell it without simply showing her and she wouldn’t let him get close enough to show her. She had been pretty hurt when Alistair had allowed duty to dictate their relationship and she still feared Teagan would do the same. But he was not Alistair, he wasn’t even close to the throne and he wouldn’t just cut her away like that. A tiny part of him resented Alistair for what he had allowed duty to do to them.
 
Earlier tonight he had thought he had finally broken the walls around her fear, but Neria had called an abrupt end to their encounter, leaving him frustrated. And though she claimed pain, he didn’t believe her. At any rate, it wasn’t physical pain stopping her.
 
He was caught in a vicious circle of frustrated lust and her fear. He rose and poured water in a basin, dousing himself with it, hoping it would still the fire blazing over his skin. While it eased some of the physical discomfort, it did little to ease the storm in his mind.
 
The tiny voice that said this was more than simple lust was ignored for now.           
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Neria lay awake listening to the quiet in the house. It had been a week since her bold declaration to Teagan, but she hadn’t been sure how to broach moving their relationship to the next level. They had shared some kisses and earlier tonight things had gotten a bit intense in the study, but she had backed off with a lame excuse of experiencing pain, still a little intimidated by him. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved that he hadn’t pressed the issue.
 
Unfortunately the encounter left her with disquieting feelings and her mind kept going back to how she felt where he had touched her. Even more, she was acutely aware of where he had not.
 
She took a deep breath and tried to settle her racing heart, but it wasn’t working. In frustration she rose, poured some water into a basin and splashed her face. Shivering, she toweled dry. That hadn’t worked either. Miserably, she wondered if Teagan was feeling the same as she did.
 
Three times she rose and three times she went back to her bed undecided. Finally she stood, pulled on her tunic and lit a candle from a taper over the fireplace. She slipped out into the hall, dancing on her feet from the cold floor, and walked silently, but resolutely, to her destination.
 
Neria paused in the hall just outside his door. Nervously, she shifted from one foot to the next. Her pride warred with her resolve and finally it was her resolve that won out. She knocked softly. At first there was no answer, but then she heard him moving around in the room. After a moment the door opened and he stood there regarding her, his face inscrutable. She was wearing a blush colored tunic of simple cotton and she wished she had something more alluring to entice him. He wouldn’t look at her face—his eyes just seemed to sweep over her, his gaze stormy and lingering on her legs. When his eyes finally found her face again, she saw the blush spread across his cheeks and up to his ears.
           
His blue eyes deepened, darkened and pulled her in, touching something deep within her, demanding a response. She bit her bottom lip nervously, heart racing so fast and so loud she felt sure he must hear it.
 
“Neria, this isn’t a good time,” he said, his voice strained.
 
He sounded angry. She almost bolted at the tone in his voice, but she set her mind on her course and moved closer to him. He put a hand on her arm gently, but firmly, stopping her. From his touch she could tell he wasn’t angry, just frustrated. That she could understand. It’s what she had been feeling.
 
“It’s late and I’m in no mood to talk,” he said.
 
“Then don’t talk,” she said, blowing out the candle and placing it down on his dresser, reaching up to him.
           
He grasped her wrists to stop her, holding them to his chest. “Neria, I promised you I would be a gentleman, but if you come in here now, I can’t be held to that. I’m not made of stone.”
 
Had she ruined this chance? Oh, Maker, she hoped she hadn’t.
 
“It is still my choice?” she asked.
 
He nodded. “As always, Neria.”
 
“Then I choose yes, Teagan.”
 
The frown line between his brows eased out and he answered her smile with one of his own.
 
He brought one of her wrists to his lips and kissed it, opening her palm and placing another kiss there. She smiled, feeling the texture of his beard brush her open hand. She leaned in closer and kissed the bare chest before her, the fingers of her free hand gliding along his torso to his abdomen feeling the play of muscles under them.
 
He kissed her forehead, then first one eyelid then the other, nuzzled her cheek and tasted the salt of the tears she had shed. He smiled at her again, reassuringly. She placed her hands on his waist to support herself as that smile made her very lightheaded.
 
One hand went behind her head and the other to the small of her back to support her as Teagan bent his lips to hers. He sucked on her bottom lip, nibbling it softly until she parted her lips and he delved into her with a vigor that left her breathless. She tilted her head back and he kissed along the pulse in her throat, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. Her fingers twined in the hair at the nape of his neck and pressed into him.
 
His hands slid along her sides, sliding her tunic up and she lifted her arms as he pulled it over her head, baring her to his burning gaze. In the light of the fire in the hearth, she flushed pink, a little nervous under the intensity of his expression. He took her hand and led her to his bed, pausing only long enough to remove the rest of his confining garments, and joined her.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Afterwards, as they lay there breathless and sated, he looked at her, the sheen of sweat and the blush of afterglow on her skin making her seem to glisten. His hand brushed her cheek.
 
“That was lovely, Neria. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like that.”
 
She didn’t know how to respond and he didn’t seem to need any words. He smiled then and kissed her before the two of them drifted off to sleep, his fingers twined in a lock of her long red hair.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
The light of predawn shining in his window woke Teagan. He blinked blearily for a moment then looked at the woman lying beside him in his bed. She was lying on her back, one arm flung over her head, her face tilted toward him. Her hair was in disarray, all spread out over his pillow and down in her face. He reached over with a finger and brushed it back.
 
Maker’s breath, he had no idea how he had managed to keep up with her last night. The rumors of Grey Warden stamina were not exaggerated, and though there were few women Wardens. it seemed to apply to them as well. He stroked the soft skin of her throat and traced the line of her collarbone with his fingertips. Then he slipped his hand under the covers to caress one of her soft breasts because he knew he could and smiled.
 
He settled back, wondering what madness had possessed him to agree to this situation. He had known pleasure with women before but he was always the one directing the pace of it. This situation with Neria was something beyond his scope of experience, but, with a grin, he thought it was certainly a great deal of fun once he got her to relax.
 
Bella, that engaging redhead in the Redcliffe tavern, had been a particular favorite of his. He had spent several encounters with her that had certainly been pleasurable, but once his need was sated, morning found him all too eager to be up and gone from her bed. He found he enjoyed the idea of waking up to Neria’s face in peaceful repose and was pleasantly surprised that he felt no urgency to quit her company.
 
Next to him, Neria stirred, and he looked over to see her frown as if she didn’t recognize him or recall where she was. Not knowing how to interpret her expression, he decided to smile at her. That never seemed to fail to illicit a similar response from her.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Neria opened her eyes to the man beside her and frowned, confused for a moment why his coloring was off, then realized the next moment it was because he wasn’t Alistair. That thought brought her fully awake and she returned his smile tremulously.
 
She bit her bottom lip as thoughts of last night brought her the delightful memory of the things they had done together, her body responding to her thoughts. His intensity last night had surprised and intimidated her, but he was a gentle lover and had assuaged her fears. She reached over and ran her fingers down the arm closest to her.
 
“How do you feel?” he asked.
 
Maker’s breath! He had but to speak to her and her body answered the masculine rumble of his voice. Truthfully, there was but one answer she could give to that question.
 
“I feel good,” she replied. “I feel warm and safe.”
 
He caressed her cheek and kissed her sweetly, revisiting only a tiny portion of the feelings last night had invoked in her.
 
“No more fears then, I hope?” he said.
 
“No, no more fears,” she said, and as she said it she realized it was the truth. “In fact, could we spend today here? I don’t want to get up.”
 
“Lazy minx, you tempt me when I have lots of things to do today!” he growled in mock anger. “Fortunately for you, I agree.”
 
She giggled as he buried his face in the velvety softness of her throat, growling, and then quickly her mirth changed to something deeper.
 
                        *                                  *                                  *
 
At first, it was a little awkward deciding where they would spend their nights when together and she ended up more often than not in Teagan’s room. The guest room she had been given was Rowan’s for those occasional visits to his home. He always seemed more withdrawn in his sister’s room. They would sit and talk in the window seat and enjoy the view, but he rarely initiated anything intimate in there. When one or the other needed their privacy, Neria would return to Rowan’s room to sleep.
 
She was very playful, often teasing him under the table with her toes leading to some wicked payback on Teagan’s part in the bedroom that night. But they kept the displays hidden from the servants. In fact, it became a naughty sort of game trying to be as tantalizing as possible in front of Victor or Brynna without actually saying anything.
 
Both ignored the fact that spring would be here all too soon and the Landsmeet would require a trip to Denerim. What that would bode, neither wanted to address yet.
 
                        *                                  *                                  *
 
Teagan lay awake, listening to the wind sighing in the attic. The deepest snows of winter had finally come in the two months that had passed, but this year he felt none of his usual restlessness.
 
The woman sharing his bed was the reason for the difference and he smiled. Neria was a warm and delightful lover.
 
He heard her whimper and put his arm around her, gently stroking the soft skin along her spine. She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and moved closer to him, her warmth pressed along his side.
 
They had grown closer the past couple of months as winter had moved in and the snows isolated them from the rest of the world. Sometimes he almost wished it would remain so. He hated politics and the spring Landsmeet, usually letting Eamon deal with such things, but Loren had encroached on his home and that couldn’t go unanswered.
 
She twitched and protested in her sleep. Teagan wondered what she always dreamed of to cause nightmares. Every night it was the same. He stroked her hair trying to soothe her, frowning. She was so young to be having dreams this bad all the time, but then he supposed her experiences had left her with some pretty bad scars. It couldn’t have been easy bearing the weight of ending the Blight on her shoulders.
 
“It’ll be all right, my dear,” he murmured and kissed the top of her head. “You’re safe here, now.”
 
She seemed to settle down some and sleep more soundly. Teagan closed his eyes and joined her, the soft rush of breath from her the only lullaby he needed.
                       
 

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Nine
 
Neria sat in the window seat watching the snow melt under the spring sun. Tomorrow they would be going to the Circle of Magi and then to Denerim and she had been dreading the trip. She looked forward to seeing Connor and Irving. It wasn’t so much she dreaded running into Alistair either, for that pain had abated, it was all the rest. Teagan was a nobleman, something she could ignore that winter, but it would slap her in the face in Denerim. Hero or not, she was what she was and there was no escaping it. And when he faced the censure of his peers for associating with her, would he turn on her, too?
 
Teagan came into her room and sat behind her, his arms going around her waist. She leaned back into his chest and rested her head on him.
 
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said.
 
“I want to go see Connor. Don’t mind me, Teagan, I’ve just been a bit moody the past few days. It will pass,” she said. “Will you be staying at Arl Eamon’s?”
 
“Yes,” he said. He kissed the soft skin of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. “I’ll miss you if you don’t come. What are you afraid of, Neria? Is it Alistair?”
 
It might not be so bad, she thought. If she was at Arl Eamon’s, and not the royal palace, at least she wouldn’t have to hear the gossip at the Landsmeet.
 
“No, I should talk to him.” She smiled up at him. “I’m just being silly I guess. I’ll go with you to Denerim.”
 
“It’ll be fun, you’ll see. There are lots of things to do in Denerim and the forests surrounding it,” he promised. “Once the Landsmeet is done, we’ll spend a few days hunting and there’s always the market and the Wonders of Thedas.”
 
When he held her like this she almost believed it.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
           
The next morning they awoke early. Neria had been learning to ride in the past three weeks as the weather improved and Teagan felt confident enough in her skill to let her ride Eilir, his most trustworthy horse. If they took their time, he felt she shouldn’t have too many difficulties.
 
A contingent of six Redcliffe knights rode with them just in case they encountered trouble on the road. Teagan mentally added himself and Neria to that number. Physically, she was a small and unassuming person and in armor no one would realize they were dealing with a mage until it was too late.
 
He was concerned about the Landsmeet. As they rode, he ran over different scenarios in his head, but kept hitting the same wall. There was no physical evidence to link Loren to the attacks at this time. He felt confident they might be able to get more, especially if what he overheard about the man hiring mercenaries was true, but for the moment it was Teagan’s word against the other bann’s. Alistair would believe him, he was confident of that, but without evidence there would be little he could do. Loren had his own supporters.
 
He looked over at Neria to distract himself from troublesome thoughts and the worried frown between his brows smoothed out. She still wasn’t as relaxed as she should be in the saddle, but she didn’t seem as frightened as she had when they had first traveled together. He made a mental promise to himself to give her a good rubdown when they camped that night. Those thoughts led to other pleasant ones and a broad smile crossed his face.
 
Almost as if she could read his thoughts she looked at him, saw his expression and answered it with a brilliant smile. Then she turned her attention back to her mount.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
They journeyed without incident, arriving at the Tower by the afternoon of the second day and spent some time with Teagan’s nephew, who was overjoyed to have visitors. Not only was he learning quickly, but the scars of the events in Redcliffe seemed to have mostly healed now. He had even made some new friends in the tower, the first real friends he had ever had.
 
Isolde was there and she greeted Teagan with a smile and a hug. She seemed a lot more relaxed now that she could tell her son was going to be all right, though she seemed nervous around Neria. Considering the memories the sight of Neria must stir, Teagan supposed he couldn’t blame the woman. She would always be a reminder of those dark days that Isolde’s poor judgment had brought down on Redcliffe.
 
“Teagan, I’m glad to see you,” she said.
 
“Isolde, it’s good to see you. How’s my brother?”
 
“He was well when I left. Unfortunately, with the Landsmeet approaching, he was too busy to make this trip with me. But I had to come see my boy,” she said, smiling at Connor.
 
“They’ve been treating you well, Connor? Are you practicing and doing your studies like you are supposed to?” Teagan asked.
 
“Yes, Uncle Teagan.”
 
“Thank you again for watching over my son, Teagan,” said Isolde. “I can’t come as often as I wish. With Eamon so busy in Denerim, I find as soon as I leave to come here, I want to go back to Denerim. Yet when I am in Denerim I just want to be with my boy.”
 
“I really should check on Irving,” said Neria. “He was looking a bit peaked the last time I saw him.”
 
“Mother, may I go with Neria?” Connor asked.
 
“Of course, Connor,” she replied.
 
Teagan’s eyes followed her as she left the room. Isolde frowned.
 
“Teagan, far be it from me to say who you should dally with, but a mage?” The last word was uttered with such venom Teagan frowned.
 
“She has a name, Isolde—it’s Neria. And you and I both owe that mage our lives, not once, but many times over. I won’t listen to this kind of talk.”
 
“I will always be grateful for what she did for my husband and my son, don’t mistake that, but you had better get used to the gossip if you intend to parade her about Denerim as your mistress. You know how the Chantry feels about such things. Think of your family, your reputation!”
 
“I always think of my family, Isolde, but Neria is a dear friend to me and I won’t have her slandered. Isolde, you’re my brother’s wife and a sister to me, but you overstep your bounds. Either be civil or say nothing at all!” he snapped.
 
Her eyes widened, incredulously. “You…you have actually fallen for that mage! Eamon will never stand for this, Teagan! He will insist you do the right thing!”
 
“Oh, and what is ‘the right thing,’ pray tell? It’s none of your concern what she and I do, but I am not some youth thinking with his loins instead of his head. I know there are difficulties,” he said, adding in his head, not the least of which is the woman herself. “But she’s brave and good and I find those qualities very appealing in a woman.”
 
“There are many brave and good nobles who would love to catch your eye, Teagan. You know Eamon will insist you do your duty by your family.”
 
“Then let Eamon tell me himself and I’ll give him the same answer I gave you. I like Neria and we enjoy each other’s company. I won’t give her up for some misguided propriety. Enough, Isolde, this discussion is closed,” he said with a note of finality.
 
When Neria returned a bit later, walked into a scene rife with tension and Teagan saw his own worried frown mirrored on her face.
 
“I think we should call it a night, Neria and I will head to the Spoiled Princess. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow morning, Connor, to say goodbye. If you want to write your father a letter, I’ll be happy to carry it to him,” said Teagan.
 
He hugged Connor, and then took Neria’s arm and led her from the room, eager to get her out of here before Isolde said something to hurt her.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
On the boat ride across the lake, there were no words between them. His voice in the room had been measured, and he avoided questions from her now. but Neria knew him well enough to have heard the anger in his tone. He wasn’t happy about what he and Isolde had discussed in her absence and she could just imagine what had been said. As close-lipped as Teagan, Isolde had offered up no explanations as to what had caused the change in mood, but had leveled an icy glare which the young woman had tried to ignore.
 
In their room in the Spoiled Princess Inn, Teagan seemed closed to her and she didn’t push the issue with questions. It was too awkward and she feared she already knew the answers anyway. They lay side by side in the bed, but a gulf of birthright separated them.     

[sylvanaerie]

Thank you to everyone for your lovely reviews and following my story to this point. I have completed and will be posting the sequel, “Crossing Over” as soon as it is beta read and ready for publishing. I hope you will continue to follow Teagan and Neria’s story. I’ve had a lot of fun writing this! More to come!
 
Chapter Ten
 
Isolde traveled with them, and for the most part, simply ignored Neria except to answer direct queries. Since Neria had little affection for the older woman, those were few and far between. Teagan also seemed withdrawn and there was no comfortable small talk to pass the hours spent on the road.
 
Upon their arrival in Denerim days later, Teagan ensured Neria was comfortably ensconced in his brother’s estate.“I have to go speak with Eamon,” he told her. “We have to formulate our plans for the Landsmeet. You’ll be all right here?”
 
“Of course. Maybe I’ll head over to the Wonders of Thedas—see if they have any new books in stock.”
 
He hugged her and kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair, then stepped out to go find his brother.
 
Teagan found Eamon in his room with Isolde. He knocked on the doorframe and entered.
 
“I’ll leave you two to talk in private,” said Isolde as she stepped out.
 
“Hello, Brother,” Teagan began. He fished Connor’s letter out of his pocket and handed it to Eamon.
 
“Thank you, Teagan. Isolde tells me you’ve been to visit Connor several times since he arrived at the tower. Thank you for watching over my boy.”
 
“He’s family, Eamon.”
 
“Yes,” the older man responded cryptically. “I also wanted to discuss the Landsmeet. Have you obtained any proof of Loren’s involvement?”
 
Teagan shook his head. “No, and it troubles me. I overheard he was gathering mercenaries last fall, but it was quiet after I dealt with the bandits he sent against us.”
 
“I have my own contact, then, that may come through with some information for us soon. We have a few days before the Landsmeet convenes. Perhaps she’ll be able to shed some light on this. If she can’t, then we cannot tip our hand. We must leave him no doubts we will not tolerate this continued harassment, but we cannot openly state our grievances without proof.”
 
“What of the mercenaries he hired? Surely that’s some evidence?” Teagan pointed out.
 
“Some, but he could always just claim it was for his own protection in light of the attacks on Rainesfere and the darkspawn’s further incursions on the lands.
 
“In the meantime, Teagan, I want you to close up Rainesfere and move the household to Redcliffe. It’s more defensible and I would feel better knowing you’re in the castle. With spring upon us, he’ll doubtless make his move, either on your estate or on Redcliffe itself.”
 
“It’s already done, Brother, when I departed to come to Denerim. You really think he would be that stupid? The king would never stand for that,” Teagan said.
 
“No, I don’t think Alistair would stand for that, but look what happened to the Couslands. Now only Fergus remains.”
 
“Alistair isn’t Loghain. He won’t reward our killers with the title.”
 
“No, but even he would require an army to bring Loren to justice. And if Loren kills you and I, there end the Guerrins.” Eamon paused. Then, “Isolde tells me that you and Neriahave become good friends, Teagan.”
 
“I’ve always considered her a friend. She saved Redcliffe, as you’re well aware. We would have all perished were it not for her,” Teagan realized he was rambling, but for some perverse reason he couldn’t stop himself.
 
“I know, Teagan, she’s brave, lovely, a redhead and has a good heart, and I know you’ve always had a weakness for those traits in a woman. Isolde seems to think that there’s more to it than that, though.”
 
Teagan snorted and waved his hand, dismissing the topic. “We like each other, Eamon, that’s all. It’s a dalliance, nothing serious yet.”
 
“Good, then it won’t bother either of you much to end this.”
 
Teagan regarded his brother with a raised brow of incredulity. “I don’t think you should concern yourself with this, Brother. I can handle my own affairs.”
 
“All evidence to the contrary, Teagan. You’re forty years old, man! When are you going to settle down with a nice woman and make some heirs? With Connor in the tower now, and Isolde and I getting on in years, there may not be any other children for us. The Guerrin line will end unless you…”
 
Teagan shook his head. “Eamon, you’re making this sound direr than it needs to be. I can handle this myself.”
 
Eamon’s eyes narrowed as he studied his brother closely. Teagan frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “It will only be harder on you both if you wait. You have responsibilities, Teagan—to your family, to Redcliffe. These will demand attention from you sooner or later.”
 
Teagan’s voice was tight and clipped with tension. “Eamon, you are my brother and you know I will always be there for you, but you cannot tell me who I can and cannot be with. Did you use this same argument on Alistair? I’m not king or even in line to the throne. It will pass to Fergus and his children before it passes to us.”
 
“Alistair knows his duty and did what he had to. This isn’t about the royal line—this is about the Guerrins. I trust you will do your duty as well, Teagan. Break it off with this mage and send her on her way and focus on your family. From what Alistair tells me, he’s received a letter from Weisshaupt for her, reassigning her to Amaranthine. She’ll be gone soon anyway. She has responsibilities she must fulfill, too, Teagan. It’s best you let her go to them.”
 
Eamon paused at the door and looked back at his brother. “I’m sorry, Teagan, but we all have responsibilities. I trust you to see to yours.”
 
Teagan knew with his head this all made sense, but his heart warred with this decision far more than he had suspected it would.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Neria returned later that afternoon with a book in hand and curled up in the window seat of the room she was using. The last time she had been here, she had been desperately unhappy, but her mood was much different this time. She was worried, but confident that she could handle things. After all, she had already gone through this and if she had to face it again, she would.
 
There was a knock on her door and she rose to answer it, finding Isolde in the hallway to her surprise. She didn’t wait to be invited in—she just brushed in past Neria.
 
“Grey Warden, we must speak,” she said.
 
Neria looked into the hallway, half expecting to see Eamon or Teagan as well, then shrugged and shut the door.
           
“Yes, Arlessa, what can I do for you?”
 
“I am worried about Teagan,” she said. “I will be frank with you, Warden. Teagan he…he has these flings every season. I…owe you so much. You saved my family again and again. I don’t want you to get hurt—I don’t want Teagan to get hurt.”
 
“Just say what you mean, Lady Isolde,” Neria said.
 
“Teagan is getting on in years now and it’s past time for him to be married and having children.”
 
Neria wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She decided to play dumb instead.
 
“So, I should be having children for him?”
 
Isolde looked aghast. “Maker’s mercy, no! What I mean to say is he will be forced to find a woman among the Bannorn and end his roving ways. You cannot be more to him than a mistress.”
 
Don’t act so horrified, woman, Neria thought. “That’s kind of sad. You mean he doesn’t get to marry someone he loves?”
 
“There is more to marriage than lust, Warden. Teagan will do his duty, he always does. He may be stubborn, but he knows where his loyalties lie.”
 
“How does that pertain to me?”
 
“If you care for Teagan then you will make this easier for him. Leave him and go away. Do not lead him on.”
 
“I’m not leading him on. Teagan is a grown man—he can make his own choices. I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life!” Neria snapped.

She was reminded of Wynne sticking her nose in with unasked for advice about Alistair. She had recognized the concern behind the woman’s words and wasn’t as upset then, though she hardly felt that it was her business. Isolde, while couching it in concern, had a completely different feel of snobbery to her words.
 
“And what of you? When Teagan does what he must, you will be hurt, Warden. Do you really want to go through that pain? If you love him, let him go.”
 
Neria frowned. Isolde’s logic was convoluted, but she could see the reasoning behind it. She walked to the door and opened it.
 
“Please, Lady Isolde, I’d like to be alone for a while.”
 
“Please consider what I have said, Warden…Neria. I wouldn’t want to see either of you hurt.”
 
Neria crossed over to her book and picked it up before throwing it back down and burying her face in her hands with a sigh. Maker’s breath, why did this have to be so hard? She had been so careful. She didn’t love Teagan. She couldn’t have made that mistake again. Could she?
 
Yet now her mind couldn’t conceive of the thought of him not in her life.
 
Another knock at her door brought her to her feet. This time it was Alistair. She smiled at him and stepped aside for him to enter.
 
“Hello, Neria,” he said. For an awkward moment they kind of fumbled with how to greet each other, then he gave her a quick hug. “How have you been? I remember our last winter was a little hard on you.”
 
“I wasn’t used to being out in the cold, I remember. We found ways to warm up though,” she found herself smiling at memories that four months ago had caused tears.
 
Alistair blushed and grinned and she could tell he was remembering too.
 
“You look really good, Alistair,” she said. “Being king suits you. This winter wasn’t so bad was it?”
 
“No, it’s getting easier, I think, though I may give Eamon a heart attack. I don’t think he’s used to being told ‘no.’”
 
She giggled. “That must be something to see!”
 
“You could always come around to visit and see it yourself, you know. I miss you.”
 
“I miss you, too,” she said and surprised herself that it didn’t come with a lot of pain on top of the statement. She did miss his humor and his warmth, but the horrible aching hole his absence had caused wasn’t there anymore.
 
He sat on her window seat and looked up at her. “So, what have you been up to since I saw you last? Where did you spend your winter, not in the tower tutoring Connor?”
 
“No, I wasn’t in the tower. I like Connor, but I wouldn’t go live there anymore. I’m a Grey Warden now, and I have responsibilities.” A shadow passed over his eyes and she wondered what caused it. “I spent the winter in Rainesfere actually. Teagan’s had some troubles with one of the local banns raiding his lands.”
 
“I heard from Eamon those had stopped, at least for the winter. What more do you know?”
 
“Not much. I overheard Teagan talking to the man who runs the estate when he isn’t there. Bann Loren has hired mercenaries and they suspect he will probably raid Redcliffe next. Beyond that I don’t know. Who knows how far ambition will carry a man? Look what happened to Loghain.”
 
Alistair frowned, not liking the association of that man’s name to Loren’s no doubt, but the words were out before she could think about it. And really, ambition had driven Loghain so close to the throne, though he had claimed not to want it for that reason. And Howe—who knew how far he had intended to go? Was Loren, a man of shifty loyalties, any better than Loghain, the Hero of River Dane?
 
“Well, we’ll see what we can do about it,” Alistair said.
 
“I suppose now that we know it wasn’t darkspawn I should be moving on, though I don’t want to.”
 
Alistair laughed. “So, country living has spoiled you? I thought you might have been putting on a little weight!”
 
“What? You take that back! I am not getting all fat and lazy!” she exclaimed.
 
She smacked him on his arms and chest and he protested, but it was all in fun.
 
“No! No! I jest! Don’t hit me! I bruise easily!” he laughed.
 
She giggled too and it felt good, like some of the old camaraderie of the road had returned to their exchanges. It was true what they said—time heals all wounds.
 
“So, what brings you to Arl Eamon’s estate?” she asked.
 
“What, I can’t have just wanted to come see my favorite-ist mage ever?” At her frown of disbelief he shrugged and added, “Actually, I have a letter for you from Weisshaupt.”
 
He reached into his pocket and produced a crumpled letter bearing the griffon seal of the Grey Wardens. It looked very official and had been opened already, she assumed by him.
 
She frowned and took it from him. She hadn’t expected orders. Or perhaps this was the letter demanding to know how she and Alistair both had survived the slaying of the Archdemon. Those were answers she wasn’t ready to give either.
 
She read the letter, her neutral expression turning to a frown.
 
“Intelligent darkspawn…is that possible?” she asked Alistair, who shrugged. “It seems there are some strange things to attend to in Amaranthine and the First Warden has appointed me Warden-Commander.”
 
“That’s what we‘ve been hearing. The beasts usually go back to the Deep Roads after the archdemon is slain, at least that’s the lore we have,” said Alistair. “This doesn’t bode well, Neria. I know the First Warden has issued the order, but I would very much appreciate you looking into it. While I trust the Orlesians to deal with the darkspawn as they must, I would feel better if you were there overseeing things. You’re so good with that sort of thing, leading.”
 
“Of course, Alistair,” she smiled at him, reassuringly, but this news puzzled and troubled her.
 
“I even have a young knight in my service who wants to be recruited. She’s aware of the dangers inherent in the Joining and still would like to join. She’s very brave and a good fighter. If you would have her, I would appreciate her traveling with you to Vigil’s Keep.”
 
“Of course, Alistair, the Wardens need all the help we can get. What’s her name?”
 
“Mhairi.”
 
“Well, send Mhairi here and we’ll set out tomorrow. I should have been there already, but it can’t be helped now. I’ll leave as soon as day breaks.”
 
“Well, with winter on us and all the work you put in toward stopping the Blight, I figured you needed a short break. It was a judgment call. It…um, wasn’t a bad one, was it?”
 
She shook her head and smacked his arm again. “Still deferring to me, eh? No, I did need a short respite, but duty calls and I’m a Grey Warden. I can’t escape that.”
 
“Unless you become king,” Alistair grumbled.
 
“You’ve done a fine job as king. I’ve seen that Denerim is much improved in just the few short months they’ve had to rebuild. The land will recover, Alistair, and the people will have their king to thank for that when it’s all done. My contribution was just to end the Blight, yours is the tougher job.”
 
“I’d much rather be fighting darkspawn with you,” he said.
 
Something in the way he said it, or maybe his expression, shifted the tone of what he said to something else, something more provocative and it called to that part of her that would always respond to him. He was her first real love, just as she had been his. What they had was a bond that not even time would shatter.
           
Then Teagan entered the room. Neria frowned, feeling as if a delicate veil had been torn. Alistair grinned and greeted the older man with a warm hug. As he turned back to Neria, his grin faltered a bit as he saw her smile at Teagan. He looked back and forth between his two friends, recognition suddenly dawning in his eyes. For just a moment a cloud of sadness crossed his features, and then it was gone, his smile returning.
 
“Bann Teagan, it’s good to see you!”
 
“Alistair, what brings you here?” Teagan asked.
 
“Well, I had a letter for Neria and I just wanted to see how you both fared after the troubles you had. She looks quite well. You’ve been taking good care of her after that nasty encounter with the bandits. Nothing happened to you though? Eamon’s reports were sketchy at best.”
 
“No, I dealt with the problem but a worse concern has risen. Loren is gathering mercenaries. We don’t know if his eyes are on Redcliffe alone or higher.”
 
“A teyrnir? Or the Crown?” Alistair filled in the gap.
 
“Yes. But so far all we have is speculations, no solid proof.”
 
“I have to talk with Eamon then. It was good to see you, Bann Teagan.” Alistair bent and kissed Neria’s cheek. “Thanks for looking into that problem for me, Neria. I’ll have to prepare a special welcome for you once you get back to Denerim. I’m glad we can be friends again.”
 
Neria watched him leave, blushing profusely at how her body still responded to him. Then she looked to Teagan, and his expression was so troubled, thoughts of Alistair flitted out of her head.
 
He sat beside her and put an arm around her. She sighed contently and laid her head on his chest, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat. Worries seemed to fade from her mind, she always felt so safe here with him. Some part of her knew that in her darkest dreams, he had comforted her in just such a way.
 
“I’ve been ordered to Amaranthine,” she said. “I have to leave tomorrow. I should’ve left sooner, but Alistair bought me some time.”
 
“I have the Landsmeet and Loren to deal with,” he said. “And my brother.”
 
“Your brother?”
 
He sighed. “Eamon feels my days of bachelorhood should end. I told him to mind his own business, but…”
 
“You have second thoughts?”
 
“Not that. Neria, I know I promised you I wouldn’t pressure you for more than you were willing to give me, but I can’t control how I feel. I want…I want…” he frowned. “Maker’s breath! I feel as awkward as a youth!”
 
“You care for me?”
 
He sounded so relieved when he answered her she felt guilty for not asking sooner. “Yes, more than I expected I would. And I need to know, am I fighting for something that doesn’t exist? You’ve never told me how you feel.”
 
“I care for you, too, Teagan. You’re a warm and generous man. I can’t imagine what the next few months are going to be like without you.” She smiled, but there was a touch of poignancy to it. “It was a lovely winter. They can’t take that from us.”
 
He nodded and she felt his arms tighten around her as if he didn’t want to let go. She snuggled closer, burying her face in his tunic, fighting tears.
 
“Then don’t give up on us,” he said. “We’ll find a way to make this work.”
 
“We’ve been given time. Let’s think on it. We both have things we must do this spring. We can discuss this again when the Grey Warden business is done in Amaranthine,” she suggested.
 
She didn’t want to tie up his mind and heart when she might not even return from Amaranthine in one piece, but she didn’t want to give him up yet. This way, she gave him license to keep his options open.
 
“Is there anything you need for tomorrow? Is there anything I can do for you to make it easier?” he asked.
 
“Just hold me tonight? Give me something to remember to tide me over until I can return for more than memories.”
 
He smiled and bent his head to hers to oblige his lady.

[SaharaShark]

Just finished Chapter 10; beautiful job Silvanaerie!

[MysteriXOX]

Hey there Sylvanaerie,



I have started reading your story and find it to be really good. I will definitely be coming back and reading until the end.



Have fun

[sylvanaerie]

I'm going to continue posting the story in this thread, just makes it easier for me and for everyone even if I am now posting the sequel.  I hope yall have enjoyed reading the story so far!  i've had a LOT of fun writing it!


                                                      Crossing Over
 Chapter One

Neria awoke next to Teagan, who was sleeping peacefully beside her still, and looked over at him, trying to etch each feature in her mind—to hold a mental picture of him so she would have this moment to keep with her until she could return. Resting her head on her palm, she ran her fingers over his soft brown hair and along his jaw, moving over his lips. He twitched in his sleep and swiped sleepily at the disturbance. A small stab of guilt for waking him touched her as she had kept him up late last night, but that disappeared when she made him twitch again in his sleep by tracing his cheekbone. A mischievous smirk crossed her lips as she pulled her hand out of his reach and then returned to tickling his face. She traced his aristocratic profile and returned to his mouth again.
 
This time he snapped awake and grabbed her fingers with his teeth gently. Jumping at the sudden movement, she giggled as he held her palm to his lips and placed a kiss there.
 
“Good morning,” she said. He grunted a sleepy, unintelligible response and rolled over to smile at her. “I have to go soon. Mhairi will be here shortly to travel with me to Amaranthine.”
 
Reaching under the covers, he pulled her close to him. Sliding her hands behind his back, she snuggled closer, then smiled ruefully as she realized he was already dozing again. She turned her head, closed her eyes and laid her cheek on his chest listening to the beating of his heart and his even breathing. She just wanted to enjoy this moment of complete contentment.
 
The maid knocked on the door and called from the hall, not wanting to intrude on the bann and his lady. “Ser Mhairi is here, my lady.”
 
With a sigh she looked at him again and kissed his closed lids tenderly, then his lips. When his arms came around her again to hold her to him, possessively, his hands tracing her curves, she realized he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
 
“Tell her to go away. A few more hours won’t matter,” he protested.
 
She gasped. “You weren’t sleeping! You were awake all this time!”
 
“Kind of, you little minx,” he admitted. “I have plenty of time to sleep later if I want. I’m certainly awake now and you need to tell her to go away.”
 
“I can’t,” she replied. “The sooner I’m gone, the sooner I can be back with you.”
 
She bit her bottom lip, hoping he wouldn’t hear the slip or maybe it wouldn’t register. She had promised him the freedom to decide if they would continue their dalliance. It was assuming too much, she feared, to hope he would stave off Eamon’s insistent demands he break things off with her.
 
Oh, Maker, I hope I can come back to you, she thought.
 
Reluctantly she stood up from the bed and he lay there, propped on his arm watching her dress. From the expression on his face she could tell he was as reluctant to see her go as she was to be going.
 
“I want you to take Eilir,” he said. At the first sign of a protest, he held up a hand to stave it off. “I trust her. She’s a good, reliable mount and she’ll carry you there safely. I won’t take no for an answer, Neria.”
 
“All right,” she agreed, though the only thing that had made her at all comfortable about riding was having him with her.
 
He got out of bed and now it was Neria’s turn to watch him as he walked over to the pile of clothes he had dropped on his window seat last night. He took out a locket on a chain and brought it over to show her.

“I was hoping you would let me have a little something to remember you by. If you would do me the honor, I would like to keep a lock of your hair in this."

"Of course, Teagan. That's a lovely thought."

Pulling out a dagger, she took a snip from her hair, tied it with a small green ribbon and placed it in his palm. Almost reverently, he took it from her and placed it inside the locket.

"I wish I had something to remember you by, too," she said sadly.

"Well, I wasn't sure how you felt and I didn't want to presume," Teagan said embarrassed, "but I do have one for you, too."

He went back and brought another locket, just like the one he had put Neria's hair in. Opening it carefully, she saw inside the little gold oval was a lock of his own brown hair tied with a dark blue ribbon.

She bit her bottom lip and sniffled. “That’s so sweet. Thank you, Teagan,” she said. “When did you have time to do this? I wish I had something to give to you.”

“After I talked to my brother yesterday, I was in the market and found them.”

Fighting back tears, she took the locket from his hand. He hugged her, his hands stroking her back but she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself.

“Be careful, Neria. Come home safely.”

“I will.”
 
She exited the room with a heavy heart then lifted her chin and walked down the hall. She was miserable, but she had her pride and wouldn’t let anyone see what this was costing her.
 
Stopping in the kennels, she gave Muffin a couple of his favorite treats. She also had a huge ham bone to distract him as she rode off. She ruffled his fur and hugged him.


“Take care of Teagan,” she said. “Do you understand boy?” The mabari looked up with liquid brown eyes filled with doggish devotion. His stumpy tail thumped happily. “I wonder how much you really understand.”
 
In the courtyard, she found Eilir already saddled and waiting for her. Mhairi was on her horse and nodded to her. Neria looked up and saw Teagan watching her from his window. She wondered if he watched to see her go or was watching to see her get on the horse. With a final smile directed toward him, she climbed onto Eilir.
 
Mhairi was at least a welcome distraction from her worries and she was an engaging companion, a warm and friendly young woman. Neria took an instant liking to the young Warden recruit.
 
“So, Mhairi, we’ve a long ride ahead of us, tell me a bit about yourself,” Neria said, guiding the horse toward the city gates.
 
“I grew up in the Bannorn, a day or two from here on a big farmhold where my family served the bann. I joined the king’s service a year ago. I’ve wanted to be a Grey Warden since I could remember, and when I heard that they would be rebuilding the Order here, I put in my request to try for it.” She blushed and ducked her head. “It’s a great honor to be serving under the Hero of Ferelden.”
 
Neria smiled, but she had never been comfortable with attention. First she was Irving’s prodigy and then the Grey Warden who ended the Fifth Blight. Attention was bad, she felt. Attention just attracted the worst things to happen to you.
 
They rode northward all that day, Mhairi’s chatter a constant buzz in her mind, and though Neria heard little of what the young woman said, her enthusiasm was unmistakable. The young Commander of the Grey’s thoughts were turned inward on the road ahead, the tasks she would have to accomplish. She wondered about the Grey Wardens who had come to Amaranthine. The only things she knew about Orlesians weren’t flattering, but she hoped the Wardens were more like Riordan than chevaliers.
 
She wondered if she would do a good job as Warden-Commander. Would the older Wardens even listen to her? It was one thing to gather an army, but she led by dint of “Alistair hadn’t wanted to lead” not out of any real skill of her own. Now she would be expected to follow protocols she didn’t know herself. What little she knew of Grey Wardens had come from one who had only been a Warden six months longer than herself.
 
“There should be a manual,” she muttered.
 
“What was that, Commander?” Mhairi asked.
 
“Nothing, just thinking out loud,” Neria responded. “Do you know anything about what’s going on at Amaranthine?”
 
“Only what everyone else knows—the beasts aren’t going to ground as usual.”
 
“Do you think something could be leading them?”
 
“You mean something besides an archdemon? Maker help us if that’s what’s happening.”
 
“Maker help us indeed,” Neria whispered.
 
In all, defying the will of the First Warden and returning to Denerim to her warm bed and Teagan was looking more desirable the further she rode.
 
 

[Lynn01]

Very nice, I feel bad for Neria for being pushed aside because of Duty every time. It almost seems as if Teagan will be forced to do the same as well