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[sylvanaerie]

This chapter was a LOT of fun for me to write.  When Xandurpein wrote his fic, Queen of Thorns, he included a Teagan who is in love with a pretty little red haired elf mage "Easter egg" for me.  I got so tickled I asked if I could put an alternate version of his character, Michael, in my story.  Thus was born the character we call "Rogue Michael".  Lady Damodred being so nice and selflessly reading through my chicken scratchings for the nuggets of prose I felt needed something equally as nice.  So Leah is a nod to her character, Lya as well.
Anyway, the story goes slightly AU because of the Easter eggs in it but I think I came up with a believable reason a younger Cousland might survive Howe's slaughter at the castle (and still retain his/her honor).

OH yea and if you haven't read them yet I recommend you go read Queen of Thorns (Xander's fic) and Sundered Order (Lady D's fic).  Both are excellent!


Chapter Two
 
Still half expecting her to dismount and send Eilir back to the stables, Teagan watched Neria ride out of the estate gates, but she remained in the saddle. He hoped she would be safe, but for now it was out of his hands. It was evident she was capable and well trained and had saved his life more than once. She just didn’t always look after herself when she was worried about others.
 
He picked up his garments and dressed, ran a comb through his hair and went down to the dining room for breakfast. Alone yet again, he found Isolde present.
 
“Eamon have business at the palace this morning?” Teagan asked her as he sat down.
 
“Last night, in fact, Teagan,” Isolde replied with a frown.
 
From her expression he got the feeling it was a regular occurrence.
 
“It’s a temporary situation, Isolde. Alistair won’t need Eamon’s help forever,” Teagan said encouragingly.
 
“I should hope not,” she replied.
 
“Did you have plans for the day?” he asked.
 
“Eamon is going to be giving a soiree next week. Those preparations will require my attention most of the day. Did you need me for something, Teagan?”
 
“No, it would seem you’re busy enough without me adding to your tasks. If you need help with anything, please let me know,” he said.
 
“I will, Teagan, thank you. Do you have any plans for today?”
 
“I’ll head over to the palace, I think. I need to talk to my brother. Do you want me to give him a message?”
 
He rose, plucking a plum from the bowl on the table and putting it in his breast pocket.
 
She smiled. “Tell him only that his wife misses him and hopes he will be home tonight. Thank you, Teagan.”
 
He walked out of the estate into a brilliant morning. Shading his eyes, he looked out of the gate into the market. He started to walk toward the gate when he became aware he was being followed. Turning, he saw Neria’s mabari, Muffin, about five feet away. The dog stopped and regarded him, head cocked in that adorable way that never failed to elicit a warm response from Neria. Teagan wasn’t about to be manipulated.
 
Pointing back toward the kennels, Teagan shook his head and said, “No, Muffin, stay.”
 
The dog barked once, argumentatively, and stepped closer to Teagan, but not close enough the man could grab him.
 
“Muffin, stay,” Teagan reiterated and stepped back.
 
The dog walked after him, always staying just out of Teagan’s reach. It was obvious to Teagan that Neria had given the animal some last order regarding him and the mabari wasn’t about to shirk that command.
 
“Maker’s breath,” he sighed. “All right, you can come but try not to bite anyone’s arm off.”
 
Muffin barked and panted happily, falling into step behind Teagan as the man went into the market. Stopping at a baker’s stall, he bought the dog one of his favorite treats. Tossing the muffin at Muffin, the mabari snapped it down in one bite, licked his chops and looked expectantly at Teagan.
 
“No more, you glutton,” he said with a laugh.
 
The dog whined and cocked his head, but Teagan just stepped away, heading deeper into the city for the noble estates and the palace district.
 
He decided to cut through the Alienage—it would cut his walk in half and the situation here had been much better since Alistair had taken over the throne. At least fewer muggings had been reported anyway. Since the decimation and subsequent rebuilding of Denerim, the lot of the city elves had improved a bit. Most were elsewhere gainfully employed, though he found a small market of their own where they sold some produce or wares. There were a few elven children playing in the street who paused in their play to watch the human passing through. Near the other gate leading to the noble district of the city, he saw a handful of pretty, elven prostitutes plying their trade and an older elven man with twisted legs, begging.
 
Rebuffing the two women who tried to entice a well dressed stranger into a few hours of fun, Teagan paused by the crippled man.
 
“Alms, my lord?” he said. “Can you spare a bit for a man trying to provide for his family?”
 
He reached into his pouch and dropped several silvers in the man’s hand and then nodded with a smile and moved through the gate.
 
“Maker’s blessings upon you, good ser!” the beggar called after him.
 
He avoided the back alleys, which were never safe, and crossed the bridge leading to the noble’s estates. That was one of the first things that had been repaired after the battle that took place in Denerim. Teagan ran his fingers along the new stonework and recalled what Neria had told him of what had happened then, how the dragon had tried to cut off their retreat or support troops by destroying the bridge.
 
On the other side, the nature of the city changed dramatically. Houses here were in much better shape—being they could afford the labor to repair the damage. The center of the square was dominated by a huge memorial stone carved with the names of those Grey Wardens and the sons and daughters of Denerim lost in Ostagar. He frowned sadly, his fingers tracing the first name on the list.
 
“Cailan Theirin,” he whispered. “I miss you, boy. I’m glad Rowan wasn’t alive to see what Loghain did to her only son.”
 
A large company proceeded through the streets and Teagan stood to one side to watch them go by. He immediately recognized the banners of both Highever and Gwaren traveling together and paused, frowning. Both teyrns together? This was unusual enough to give him pause.
 
He knew Anora had gone back to Gwaren after the Landsmeet had chosen to support Neria and put Alistair on the throne six months ago. At first it looked like she would stubbornly refuse to swear the oath, but in the end she was a practical woman. She had lost her bid and her father. She didn’t want to add her life to that list of losses. So, who was the young man riding now by Fergus wearing Gwaren colors? Had Anora remarried? Teagan frowned and rubbed his eyes. Surely he was seeing things?
 
The young man riding next to Fergus Cousland was none other than Michael Cousland, his younger brother. It had been a couple of years since Teagan had seen both, but the coloring was right and the resemblance was so strong between the two. Teagan grinned at the idea of the look Isolde was going to give him when he delivered this little piece of gossip to her.
 
Curiosity overcame him and he had to know what had happened to the younger Cousland. He entered the gates and went up to speak with them.
 
Fergus greeted him with a huge grin. “Bann Teagan! It’s good to see you again. How have things been in Redcliffe?”
 
“That’s one of the things I’ll be addressing at the Landsmeet,” he replied.
 
“This is my wife, Leah,” said Fergus, indicating the very pregnant, dark haired beauty nearby.
 
The teyrna offered her hand to Teagan and he bowed over it, kissing the knuckles. Teagan thought he might know her—perhaps Bann Sighard’s daughter? She looked a little like him around her green eyes.
 
“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he said.
 
Teagan couldn’t help it—his eyes kept going to Michael who smirked, but said nothing, letting his brother speak.
 
“Let’s go inside. We’ve had a long journey to get here and I’d love to catch up with you,” Fergus said.
 
“As would I, my lord,” said Teagan.
 
Fergus snorted. “Oh, please, Teagan. That was my father’s title. I’ve known you since I was old enough to walk. Please, call me Fergus.”
 
An hour later the men were sitting comfortably in the library chatting. Muffin had refused to leave Teagan’s side and was sitting at his feet, behaving himself quite well. Finally, Teagan had to ask the question that had been on his mind.
 
“I’m sorry about what happened in Highever. I’m glad Howe paid for that. How, in the Maker’s name, did you survive, Michael?”
 
“I wasn’t there,” said Michael. “After Fergus left, the plan was for me to stay in Highever and command a small contingent of troops, keep the peace in the area and run the castle. I was worried about Father, though. He wasn’t a young man anymore and I knew he was too stubborn to stay in Highever unless he had to.”
 
A shadow passed over the younger man’s blue eyes as Michael related the next part of his tale.
 
“I sneaked out of the castle after Fergus left and followed our army south. Howe must have attacked sometime later that night.
 
“When I got to Ostagar, I learned Fergus had gone out on patrol with some of Highever’s men. Then the battle happened and I was injured pretty badly. Some of the mages stayed in Ostagar to tend the wounded and one of them found me. I’d been hit in the head and lost a lot of blood, but the mage who found me, Wynne, was able to heal that. I’m still not sure how she did it.
 
“Fergus had gone missing in the Wilds and I thought he was dead. I stayed to tend the wounded once I recovered and fight off stragglers from the horde. It was weeks before I was able to leave Ostagar and try to get back to Highever.
 
“I made my way home and found Highever in the control of Howe, my…family…dead.” He shot a look at Fergus who was sitting, eyes downcast. “I learned what had happened and was so furious at Loghain that I joined the rebellion. Howe had branded the Cousland’s traitors and Orlesian collaborators, and Loghain not only turned a blind eye to what happened, but rewarded that traitorous bastard with our father’s title.
 
“I adopted a new persona and harassed his troops. Eventually, leadership of that little band fell on me when our leader was captured and tortured to death by Loghain’s men. He never gave us up, or else Loghain’s men were never able to find us.”
 
“How did you come to be Teyrn of Gwaren though?” Teagan asked.

“Well, I heard that Anora had returned to Gwaren and I decided to use her for ransom, make Loghain give up this stupid civil war and start fighting the darkspawn. I sneaked into the castle and made away with her pretty easily, but once we got to our camp I learned from Anora that the civil war was over, Loghain was dead and so was Howe.”

“And you believed her?” Teagan was hanging on every word of Michael’s tale.

“Not at first. I continued to hold her captive till I got word that she was telling the truth, Loghain was dead and she was no longer queen. That left me in a bit of a pickle. I thought I was the last Cousland, so retaking Highever Castle became my priority once the darkspawn were dealt with. So I came up with the idea to ‘persuade’ Anora to marry me so I would have her resources to call on."

"You...persuaded her?!" Teagan asked incredulously.

"Yes, well, it was a negotiated settlement, you might say. I told her I needed an army to retake Highever and she needed connections to avoid ending up in a tower for supporting Loghain. It's possible I might have...exaggerated Alistair's bloodthirstiness a bit. I kind of hinted Alistair might not trust her to keep her word."

"She isn't exactly happy about it, but she's a damn handsome woman when she's angry. And right before I left Gwaren, she asked me to return home swiftly. Her father stayed gone from Gwaren too much when she was growing up, and I apparently reminded her of him."

“Knowing how she felt about her father, I took that as a sign things with her will improve,” said Michael, reaching the end of his narrative.
 
Teagan grinned, not only glad to see the younger Cousland alive, but that he seemed pretty happy as well. Fergus was remarried to a lovely young woman and already had a child on the way. Not only did this mean stability for the Teyrnirs of Highever and Gwaren, but for the whole of Ferelden. More and more he was beginning to be glad he had set out this morning to see his brother.
 
“What brings you to Denerim, Teagan?” asked Fergus. “You usually avoid politics like the Blight.”
 
“Things in Redcliffe and Rainesfere haven’t been so good,” he said.
 
“The Blight?” Michael asked.
 
“No, we’ve been experiencing attacks this last year from bandits,” Teagan said. Fergus and Michael exchanged glances. “What?”
 
“Gwaren hasn’t been hit…yet. But Highever has. Two of our outlying villages were put to the torch and everyone in them killed,” Fergus said.
 
“When was this?” Teagan asked.
 
“All last year, even before Howe’s death, there were raids—small things, that weren’t unusual. Then, not long before winter set in, the villages were hit. The damn bandits took off with anything of value, livestock, grain, anything that wasn’t nailed down,” said Fergus.
 
“Enough food to feed an army,” Michael supplied. “A small army, anyway.”
 
“Bann Loren’s been gathering mercenaries. I don’t know who else might be involved in this. We lack physical evidence or eyewitness testimony,” said Teagan.
 
“Bastards keep eluding us,” said Fergus. “I’d love to get my hands on one of them, though!”
 
Leah, who had been sitting quietly nearby, working on clothing for the coming baby, stood and went to Fergus, brushing his cheek and down his arm to take his hand.
 
“Enough of such talk,” she said, taking command of the conversation. “Bann Teagan, would you like to stay for lunch? I think we could all use a little something in our stomachs to improve our moods.”
 
“I’d love to, but I was on my way to the palace to see my brother. I’m glad I was here to see you when you arrived, though. You two are going to create quite a stir at the Landsmeet this year.” Teagan laughed at the thought. “I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I am now!”
 
Fergus and Michael exchanged glances and the younger nodded slightly to his elder.
 
“Teagan, you’ll have the full support of Highever and Gwaren behind whatever you and Arl Eamon decide to do,” said Fergus. “Tomorrow we planned on having Bann Sighard and Bann Alfstanna over for supper and we’ll learn what’s happening with them as well. Dragon’s Peak is pretty isolated and Leah tells me her father hasn’t been having these problems, but dissention can come in many shapes.”
 
“Thanks,” said Teagan. “I’ll let my brother know.”
 
Teagan left the Cousland estate feeling much more positive about things. He hadn’t been looking forward to seeing Eamon since he had defied him and refused to break things off with Neria. Now, with this news, he thought Eamon would turn his attention to other matters and leave Teagan alone, at least for a while.
 
 
 

[MireliA]

Yay I finally caught up with your story . Loved it so far but sad about Neria being dragged away from Teagan.

[LadyDamodred]

Yay for easter eggs! *appreciates it*

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Three
 
The manservant at the palace showed Teagan to a receiving room while he left to inform Eamon of the bann’s arrival. Teagan paced nervously, going over in his head what he would say to Eamon. Muffin tried to keep pace with him, then just sat nearby when it became apparent he wasn’t going anywhere. By the time the servant had returned to escort Teagan to his brother, he was no closer to an acquiescence to Eamon’s ultimatum than he had been when he set out this morning to speak to Eamon. And there wasn’t going to be one.
 
It was evident to Teagan when he entered the study that his older brother had been up all night long or only slept a little. Teagan hoped his news about the Couslands would improve this meeting.

“Teagan, sit down,” Eamon said. “Do you bring good news? I could certainly use some right about now.”
 
“I passed the retinue of Highever and Gwaren coming here,” Teagan said. “I even stopped and had a chat with both teyrns.”
 
“Anora came from Gwaren?” Eamon raised a brow of incredulity.
 
“Not Anora, her husband,” Teagan said with a grin.
 
Eamon’s reaction was making this even more fun than Teagan had anticipated. He had such a look of perplexed wonder that Teagan wanted to laugh.
 
“It seems, Eamon, that Michael Cousland escaped the slaughter at Highever Castle and is now married to Anora.”
 
Eamon sat down shaking his head. “Will wonders never cease?”
 
“And Highever has had similar troubles with raiders.”
 
“They have? What happened in Highever? And how did Michael Cousland come be alive?”
 
It didn’t take long for Teagan to relay what he had been told by Fergus and Michael.
 
“A remarkable tale,” said Eamon. “And they both promise their support in the Landsmeet. Teagan, I think we just got a very lucky break.”
 
“I hope so, Eamon. Has your contact found any information we can use?”
 
“Nothing so far, and as the Landsmeet draws nearer, it concerns me. We may have to use some drastic measures that won’t win us any love.”
 
“What do you mean, Brother?”
 
“I mean measures that are effective, but won’t win Alistair popularity with the people. The poor boy worries too much about hurting feelings as it is.” Teagan thought he might detect a note of displeasure in Eamon’s voice at this. “I would prefer not to suggest them and I loathe bringing it up since he may feel he has no choice but to act on them.”
 
Hoping to simply avoid getting into the topic of Neria with his brother, Teagan rose.   He had come here in part to discuss it but really he would rather avoid an argument this morning. He had just reached the door and was about to leave the room when Eamon spoke.
 
“I understand, Teagan, that Ser Mhairi left for Amaranthine this morning. I trust she wasn’t alone?”
 
“If you mean ‘Did Neria go with her?’ then, yes. She did.”
 
“And she left her mabari with you?” Eamon asked. “Why?”
 
Teagan gritted his teeth and kept his back to Eamon.
 
“Perhaps she felt I needed a protector.”
 
“You didn’t do it, did you, Teagan? You didn’t tell her.”
 
Eamon sounded old and weary, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. Teagan frowned.
 
“I couldn’t, Eamon.”
 
“Why not, Teagan?”
 
Now he turned and looked at Eamon, imploringly. “Is it not enough that she makes me happy? Can’t you just be glad for me, Brother?”
 
“Were this twenty years ago, I would be, but neither of us are young men any longer.”
 
Entering into mental battle with his brother was not Teagan’s idea of fun, but he wasn’t about to give up Neria now that he’d gotten her to open up her heart to him. He crossed his arms defensively across his chest.
 
“You just want heirs, if not your own then mine.”
 
“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a concern. She’s an elf, Teagan and as an elf she’s unsuitable. That in and of itself is alarming, but she’s also a mage. Your mistress has been chosen poorly this time, Teagan. Any children she gives you run the risk of being mages as well.”
 
“I would love them, if they had her pointed ears or her magic. They would be part of us both.”
 
“The child would be human even with an elven mother, but people would know who the mother is. And the risk of a mage child…. You don’t want that pain, trust me. Do you want the templars coming to your home? Dragging your child away? Or doing the responsible thing and surrendering them to the tower and having your heart torn away anyway?”
 
Perhaps Eamon wasn’t trying to be unreasonable, Teagan thought. He knew giving up the boy he loved to the Circle of Magi had taken a heavy toll on Eamon. He sympathized with his brother, but he cared about Neria. She was worth fighting for, even if he had to fight Eamon.
 
“I don’t want to fight with you over this, Eamon, but I won’t give her up.”
 
“Well, we shall see. Amaranthine is a long way away and the life of a Grey Warden isn’t an easy one. Darkspawn are no simple foes.”
 
“This discussion is over,” said Teagan, angrily cutting off his brother. He turned on his heel and strode out the door, Muffin following in his wake.
 
 “Maker’s breath!” Teagan hissed. “It’s almost like he hopes she’ll die in Amaranthine!”
 
Teagan was so angry he wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped into a man exiting the door to his left. Papers scattered as they collided and Teagan stopped to help him gather them.
 
“No, don’t, my lord, that’s not necessary,” he said.
 
Handing what he had gathered to the man, Teagan continued on his way.
 
Outside clouds were gathering for one of those early spring showers and Teagan picked up the pace to get back to Eamon’s estate quickly. He was only a little soaked when he arrived at the arl’s estate and counted himself fortunate to get back when he did.
 
A servant brought him a towel to run over himself as he strode into the estate. He found Isolde in the dining hall discussing placement of the nobles for the planned social with the head of the staff. One delicate brow arched at the sight of her brother-in-law a bit breathless and wet.
 
“Teagan? You’re back already. Did you see Eamon?” she asked.
 
“I did,” Teagan replied, the cold rain having done little to cool his anger over their cross words. Then he grinned, thinking of his good news for Isolde putting him in slightly better spirits. “The teyrns of Highever and Gwaren are here, so don’t forget to invite them.”
 
“Anora married?” Isolde’s look of surprise was anticipated and everything he had hoped for.
 
“Indeed. She didn’t come to Denerim, but her husband is here. Why not invite him as well? Fergus has remarried as well, so don’t forget to invite his wife.”
 
Isolde blinked. “Teagan…what exactly did you do this morning?”


Teagan just grinned and walked away, her reaction everything he had hoped for. He hadn’t been looking forward to either of the two events planned for next week, but now, for the first time, he was.

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Four
 
After five days on the road, Neria looked forward to a good night’s sleep in Vigil’s Keep before learning what her duties would be as Warden-Commander. She wanted to talk to the Grey Wardens in Amaranthine and learn more about the order she was a member of.
 
Things along the Pilgrim’s Path, as the road between Denerim and Amaranthine was known, were not well. They saw evidence of destroyed caravans and dead men. No cause was apparent and Neria sensed no evidence of taint. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been darkspawn attacking them.
 
As they approached the keep, it became evident that something was wrong. Smoke from numerous fires was visible even from a distance, and as they got closer, Neria sensed the darkspawn. Arriving at the keep, she and Mhairi dispatched them and managed to rescue some of the soldiers inside.
 
Among those they rescued was the seneschal, Varel, whom they saved from a talking darkspawn, who had led the surprise attack. Once the keep was cleared, they learned the entire contingent of some dozen Orlesian Wardens was dead or missing.
 
Now, of the Grey Wardens in Amaranthine, only Neria remained. Mhairi, the young knight who traveled with her, was only one of two recruits still left alive. Much to her surprise, the other recruit present was Oghren. Neria was so angry with him for having left Felsi, she sent him away once the keep was in Grey Warden control again.
 
She managed to add another recruit, a young mage named Anders. He was an apostate, wanted for his continual escape attempts. Neria was forced to conscript him out from under Ser Rylock’s nose, much to the templar’s fury.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Gathered in the keep now were Mhairi, Anders, Varel and Neria. It was Varel who held the chalice with the darkspawn blood that would transform the new recruits. That he was privy to Grey Warden secrets spoke to Neria of how much the Wardens had valued him and she looked forward to working with him.
 
“These words have been spoken since the first. Join us, brothers and sisters…” began Varel, intoning the ritual.
 
As if in a dream Neria watched Varel finish the ritual’s oath and pass the cup to Anders.
 
“So we just drink darkspawn blood and that’s it?” Anders asked, looking at the dark liquid, one brow raised in curiosity. “Well, just so you know if I end up on a ship bound for Rivain in my small clothes with a tattoo on my head, I’m blaming you.”
 
Neria frowned, recognizing his humor as an attempt to deflect his nervousness, but still finding it inappropriate for the situation. He tipped the cup and quaffed the foul tasting mixture, passing it back to Varel. He gagged, coughed and choked, staggering as the effects of the tainted mixture seized his body. Remembering Daveth, Neria watched in horror, praying he wouldn’t die.  Moments later he was unconscious, but breathing on the floor.
 
“You chose well, Commander,” said Varel. “He will live.”
 
Then Varel passed the cup to Mhairi.
 
“At last, the moment I’ve been waiting for,” she said.

Closing her eyes, she raised the cup to her lips and drank deeply. Varel took it from her, watching her carefully. Clutching a hand to her throat, she began to cough and gag, crying out in pain, looking one last time into Neria’s stricken face as she collapsed to the floor, dead.
 
“Maker be with you Mhairi,” said Varel, closing her eyes.
 
There was no time to grieve over the loss of the young woman. There was too much to do in getting acquainted with the situations Neria would have to deal with. Neria set aside her disappointment and sorrow for later in order to address matters.
 
There were accounts to go over with Mistress Woolsey, the treasurer sent from Weisshaupt, and security matters to discuss with Captain Garevel, the captain of the guard at Vigil’s Keep.
 
“Before you go, Commander,” said Captain Garevel, “I think you might be interested in a prisoner we captured a couple of nights ago. He’s refused to give us his name and we decided to hold him for you to decide what to do with him. He gave us quite a fight when we caught him. It took several of my men to take him down.”
 
“Maker’s breath! Where is he?” she asked.
 
Garevel signaled one of his men to escort her out to a smaller building where a single prisoner sat in the cell. The soldier with her frowned and spoke.
 
“He hasn’t given us a name yet. If it was up to me, I’d hang him.” The soldier glared at the prisoner. The source of his ire was pretty evident as he had a huge bruise under his eye and Neria surmised it had been the prisoner who had given it to him. “Good men died while this one sat in here, safe.”
 
“Leave me to speak with him,” she said. The soldier looked at her worriedly.  “All right, well, at least give me a little privacy.”
 
 
The young man stood when Neria walked closer to him.  She remained a good three feet from the bars, mindful of what the guard had told her.


“So, you’re her, the Hero of Ferelden,” he sneered. “Somehow I imagined my father’s murderer as ten feet tall with lightning shooting out of her eyes.”
 
“Perhaps that’s how the darkspawn see me. I am no murderer.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but dripping with anger. “Who was your father?”
 
 “Arl Rendon Howe. I am Nathaniel Howe.”
 
She remembered his father, a weasel-like, corrupt little man who wasn’t remembered fondly by anyone. Except maybe this young man. She had killed him, but it had been no more than justice for his crimes. And it wasn’t like he had given her a choice anyway.
 
“I remember him.”
 
“So you know of whom I speak. My father served the Hero of River Dane and what did he get? Murdered in his home by you. I came home to Amaranthine when I found out you were coming and was planning on killing you.”
 
“And this confession is supposed to induce me to want to let you go?”
 
“I don’t care what you do to me. The Howes have lost everything.” His angry expression melted and Neria could see the pain behind the fury. “I…I was going to kill you, but then I just wanted to get back some of my family’s things.”
 
“About that, I understand it took several men to bring you down.”
 
“I didn’t spend all my time in the Free Marches chasing skirts. I learned how to survive—tracking, poisons, archery and fighting.”
 
“And if I were to let you go?”
 
He seemed taken aback by her question. “I…I guess….” Then the angry scowl returned. “I’d come back here and finish what I started. Maybe you won’t catch me next time.”
 
“You aren’t making a good case for yourself,” Neria said, amused.
 
A strange idea was starting to take hold of her now and she knew what she wanted to do with Nathaniel Howe.
 
“Would you rather I lied?” he asked.
 
“Somehow I doubt you would be capable of it. Instead of throwing your life away, Nathaniel Howe, wouldn’t you rather redeem your family name?”
 
“Perhaps I should go offer myself to King Alistair’s service? I’m sure he would love to have a Howe in his service.” His voice dripped sarcasm, then changed to a slightly more conciliatory tone. It was obvious to Neria that Nathaniel was torn between what he learned and his own sense of honor. “Look, the war was bad, maybe my father wouldn’t have done what he did if it had never happened. But I can’t change that. There is only you and the Grey Wardens here in my family’s home. And I have nothing, not even my family’s honor.”
 
Not taking her eyes off Nathaniel she called the guard.
 
“Go fetch the Seneschal for me please,” she said.
 
A few minutes later, Varel stood beside Neria regarding the prisoner.
 
“Did you know this is Nathaniel Howe?” She inquired.
 
Varel looked almost embarrassed. “A Howe?” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Commander. The Howe’s are implacable enemies. What would you like us to do with him?”
 
“I want to conscript him, actually.”
 
She grinned at the twin expressions of shock both men shot her.
 
“No, I refuse,” said Nathaniel. “I’d rather be hanged.”
 
“Did I say I was giving you a choice?” she replied.
 
“And do you often have companions who want to kill you?” Nathaniel wasn’t relenting.
 
“Some of my best friends have wanted to kill me,” Neria said with a giggle. Ah, Zevran, how I miss you, she added in her head.
 
“Conscript the Howe?” Varel said, his tone wary. “Commander, are you sure about this?”
 
“I’m willing to give him a chance.”
 
Nathaniel frowned at her in consternation. “You’re a very strange woman. I wonder if this is a vote of confidence or a punishment.”
 
“I suppose it depends on the outcome of your Joining as to what it is,” Neria said. “Either way, both of us will get what we want.”
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Later that evening, she sat alone in her room, writing a letter to Teagan. She buried her face in her hands and sighed. Nathaniel had lived and she had insisted his possessions be returned to him. For now he seemed content to behave. Too bad Mhairi hadn’t survived. She hadn’t known Mhairi long enough to say she was a great friend, but she had been such a promising recruit, and her mental attitude toward the Wardens was so positive. Why her? Was this how Duncan had felt? She wished he were alive now so she could talk to him. How did he live with the guilt? How many good men and women had died before she became his last surviving recruit?
 
Tomorrow she would try to find Kristoff, the Warden who had gone into the field and wasn’t present at the Vigil during the attack. Hopefully she would be able to get some more insight into the situation in Amaranthine, perhaps even some clue as to where the missing Wardens had been taken.
 
She finished the letter in which she told Teagan of her journey. A brief description of what she had found on her arrival along with assurances that she was all right was enclosed. She didn’t want news of the attack on the keep to reach Denerim without telling Teagan she was unharmed. She wanted the letter to be more openly intimate, but she wasn’t sure who would read it. So she kept the tone friendly, using words from their game they played in Rainesfere, saying one thing meaning another in front of the servants.
 
Touching the little pendant, she felt less lonely knowing she carried a piece of him with her always. Then she blew out the candle and went to sleep.

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 16 août 2010 - 07:53 .

[sylvanaerie]

This was one of those "Fun to Write" chapters.  My story is focusing more on Teagan at this point as he was the more compelling of the two protagonists and I really enjoyed Edwina and Regina. (You will see more of them later too).  Regina was fun to write as well, having been born originally in an old PnP game a long time ago.  She finally found a voice in my story here.  Plus I really enjoyed writing the dream sequence that starts this chapter. 



Chapter Five
 
The first thought that came to mind was that he really loved strawberries. The second thought was that he really loved it when Neria was feeding them to him. Between nibbles, she would kiss him, the taste of her mingling with the sweetness of the fruit. The sun on his face was warm, but the early spring breeze kept it from being too hot. Teagan felt life couldn’t get any better than this.
 
Kissing her fingers where strawberry juice had dribbled, pulling them into his mouth to suck on them brought an answering trill of delight from his lover.
 
He took the bowl from her hand and set it to one side, rolling over to pull her into his arms. Her warmth pressed along him, he kissed her, holding her to him and enjoying the feel of her under his fingers. He kissed the soft spot behind her ear that never failed to illicit giggles and shivers in response.
 
“I miss you,” she whispered.
 
“What?” he pulled back, confused.
 
“I’m not really here you know. This is just a dream.”
 
He laughed, deciding to play along with her little game. “Oh, where are you?”
 
“In Amaranthine and in danger. I hope my new companions watch my back. You know me—I get careless when I’m protecting someone else.”
 
He frowned, suddenly not liking this game and held her tighter to him. But like trying to hold air, she slipped through his fingers.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Waking with a start he rolled over, his hands reaching for her, but not finding her. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes. The dream had been so vivid. He could still feel her warmth and the softness of her skin. And it left him with a vague sense of uneasiness.
 
Tonight was the first in a round of salons the nobles would be holding, all trying to outdo one another, curry favor, and put out feelers for support. Teagan actually had fun watching them, usually, and was looking forward to seeing if Michael Cousland would be making an appearance. He watched, but rarely engaged in the dance of politics, leaving such to Eamon.
 
As for Eamon, he had said maybe three words to his brother in the past week and their meetings were strained. It distressed him that he didn’t really know how to bridge the rift between them, but he wasn’t going to back down. All Teagan knew was he had never been happier in his life than when Neria was with him and he wasn’t going to lose that.
 
He sat up and slipped out of bed. It was still fairly early in the day and the household was barely beginning to stir. He could hear maids cleaning and the general chaos that the approaching festivities always created in the household. Isolde was never more in her element than when organizing these things. She was awake early and he could hear her even up in his room as she got the household moving, making everything perfect for tonight. Sometimes she really aggravated Teagan and at other times, such as now, he envied his brother.
 
Muffin rose from his spot when the man started moving around the room. The dog refused to be kenneled, trying to remain with Teagan and follow his mistress’s last command, and for the sake of the kennel master, Teagan kept the dog in his room. Teagan liked the mabari—he had never owned one before and Muffin actually seemed to be developing a fondness for him.
 
The morning sun streaming in his window began to dispel the unsettling feelings his dream had conjured up for him, and looking down at the little flash of gold sitting on his nightstand, he smiled.
 
He picked up the golden locket and opened it, the lock of red hair reassuring him that Neria was real and not some dream sprite. He closed the locket, clutched it in his hand for a moment, and then fastened it around his neck. He finished dressing and decided to go see if Isolde needed any help.
 
When he went downstairs, he was nearly run over three times by harried servants all setting up flowers, spreading colorful cloth on the tables, cooking food, arranging seats. Isolde was obsessing over every little detail. She jumped when Teagan came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek in greeting.
 
“Good morning, Sister,” he said.
 
“Oh! Teagan, I’m so glad to see you. The invitations got mixed up. Could you go to Bann Regina and deliver this to her? Her estate hasn’t been rebuilt yet and she’s staying at the Gnawed Noble. Her invitation wasn’t delivered and I have no one to spare at the moment.”
 
He started to protest, then found himself shooed out of the estate. He shrugged. Ah, well, he would go have some breakfast at the Gnawed Noble, he supposed. This was probably just Isolde’s idea of removing him so he stayed out of her way. Even he had to admit he was useless in such preparations.
 
The tavern was quite full that morning. A good number of the banns here either had no estates or what they had in town had yet to be rebuilt to habitable standards. And some nobles simply enjoyed taking meals here. He saw Alfstanna and Bryland sitting at their usual table along the back wall, heads together. Ceorlic and several other older banns were at two tables not far from the door. Of notable absence was Arl Wulff, who had died in the battle of Denerim. His widow sat opposite the older banns near the door, picking at her food. Her only remaining child, an adult daughter sat next to her mother, trying to coax her to eat.
 
He walked over to her and she looked up at him. She was a tiny woman, and depression had taken its toll on her. Dark circles were etched under her gray eyes and where once she had viewed the world missing nothing, she had a lost expression in them now. There was also a lot more gray in her blonde hair. There was a certain dignity about her, though, Teagan thought, a sense of perseverance in the face of loss. She offered her hand for Teagan to bow over, mindful of etiquette even in her grief.
 
“Good morning, Arlessa Mathilde. How have you been?” he asked.
 
“Bann Teagan, it’s good to see you. Things at West Hills have been as you might expect. Are you joining anyone here?” He shook his head. “Then, join us. Please, Edwina, make room for Bann Teagan.”
 
Teagan didn’t want to intrude on her sorrow, but decided he could sit and keep them company for a bit. Muffin sat at his feet, watching everything around them.
 
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to call on you sooner,” Teagan said.
 
“West Hills isn’t able to support any visitors right now. Most of it is blighted and people are either dead or have run to other places. I wintered here in Denerim. How is your brother?”
 
“Busy,” said Teagan. “He’s been kept busy with rebuilding Denerim and the Bannorn. He rarely comes home at night.”
 
“That must be hard on Isolde. I should pay a visit soon.”
 
“She’d like that. You won’t be at the party tonight?” he asked.
 
“We received our invitations, but no, I’m not in the partying mood, Teagan.”
 
“I didn’t expect you would be, but you know these things are more than simple social gatherings. And yours will be a powerful voice in the Landsmeet. People will want to know which way you’ll go.” He smiled gently at her, indicating her daughter. “Besides, how can you hide this young lady’s light under a barrel?”
 
“If you are extending an invitation, Teagan, I’m sure my daughter would love to attend.”
 
“Mother, I really shouldn’t…”
 
“Nonsense, child, you deserve to get out and have some fun while you’re still young and pretty. Go tonight. Bann Teagan, would you please make sure she has fun? She hasn’t done much besides listen to me and my grief for months now.”
 
Teagan smiled and inclined his head. “I’ll make it my mission, Arlessa Mathilde. If only we could coax you into coming as well. The salon just won’t be the same without your charming self.”
 
At this she actually smiled and shook her head. “Better be off with you, you rogue, and leave me to my worries. But thank you all the same, Teagan. It’s been quite a while since anyone talked normally to me. Everyone’s been walking on eggshells around me, even my own child.”
 
Edwina frowned. “Mother…”
 
Mathilde grabbed Teagan’s hand and looked pointedly at him. “Be careful, Teagan. There are things afoot that reach beyond Denerim. The Bannorn is troubled this year. And watch over that pretty mage of yours.”
 
“What’s going on? What do you know?”
 
“I know the Hero of Ferelden wintered in Rainesfere. Teagan, who you choose for a friend is your choice—I don’t care—but she has powerful enemies in Denerim. Not because of who she is, but because of what she is. Once their own skins were saved, a lot of the banns began to resent that Amaranthine, one of the richest arlings in the kingdom, was given to the Grey Wardens. Her fame won’t protect her for long. Make sure you don’t get caught up in that. Or, if you do, make sure you can handle it. You’re one of the few decent men left in Ferelden. I’d hate it if something…terrible happened to you.”
 
Teagan felt a wave of unease come over him that reminded him of his dream.
 
“Thank you, Arlessa, I’ll be careful.”
 
Teagan rose and bowed to the Arlessa and her daughter, then moved to a table of his own, ordered some breakfast and ate quietly. One of the banns at Ceorlic’s table broke off from the group to approach Teagan. Teagan inclined a brow, politely.
 
“Bann…Guy, is it? Mather,” he said, identifying him. “What can I do for you?”
 
“I understand you’ve been having darkspawn troubles on your lands, Bann Teagan,” said Mather. “If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
 
Teagan heard the intent behind the man’s words. Mather was fishing for information. Rumors were doubtless already flying around Denerim if other banns were being raided. He didn’t really care for Mather—he was a minor bann with little more than a farmhold on his lands, more a gentleman farmer than a nobleman. There were rumors of the man’s personal habits Teagan found objectionable and he tended to avoid him rather than get into arguments.
 
“I appreciate that, but our troubles are nothing we can’t handle,” Teagan replied.
 
“Of course, it helps to have a Grey Warden at your disposal,” Mather said. “I understand the Hero of Ferelden wintered at your estate.”
 
“Yes, she was injured and stayed to recover,” Teagan said, warily. What was he fishing for?
 
One of his compatriots called to Mather and the bann bowed to Teagan before joining his friend. Teagan finished eating and went to the bartender to get the location of Bann Regina’s room.
 
When he knocked on the door, her maid answered and ushered him into the sitting room. A few minutes later she came in to see him. He rose and greeted her with a small bow.
 
“Bann Regina, good to see you again,” he said. “Isolde asked me to bring this by.”
 
She opened it, read it and smiled. “I was wondering what happened to mine. But then I have been busy this year. I understand you’ve been busy as well, Teagan.”
 
Teagan frowned. “I don’t understand.”
 
“The news around Denerim is that you’ve had some troubles at Redcliffe, or was that Rainesfere…?”
 
“A few. What of you, have you been having troubles?”
 
Bann Regina’s lands had been in her family for generations and were nearly as large as Rainesfere. Though, as with the Guerrins, they had only regained control from the Orlesians thirty years ago.
 
She giggled. “Teagan I am trouble. But yes, I’ve had a few raids on my lands—mostly a petty annoyance.” She waved her hand dismissively then sighed. “I don’t have my own personal Grey Warden to help me.”
 
Teagan didn’t like the direction the conversation was turning. Did everyone in Denerim know about Neria staying at his estate?
 
“Well, the troubles weren’t darkspawn, but human bandits. Highever was hit as well.”
 
“They’ve been pretty busy this past year, but with the war and darkspawn troubles, it was a perfect opportunity to grab for what you could,” she said. “Speaking of Highever, I understand the Cousland family will be growing in a couple of months.”
 
Teagan smiled. More than she knew.
 
“Yes, Fergus’ wife looks to be due soon.”
 
Regina played with her fingers and smiled sweetly at him.
 
“I’ll have to pay Leah a visit, too. Getting Fergus before most even knew he was alive was quite the feat. I wonder how she managed that.”
 
Her smile seemed genuine, but he wondered what was going on behind those jade colored eyes.
 
“Will you be at the salon tonight?” she asked.
 
“Of course.”
 
“Then I simply can’t say no. It’s been far too long since I saw you last, Teagan. We’ll have to catch up.”
 

[sylvanaerie]

Another fun to write chapter.  When I first did this one I wanted to shove Regina's face through a wall.  I guess she really just captured my attention.


Chapter Six
 
The first salon of spring in Denerim after the Blight drew the nobility in for dance, music, lively talk and the first round of political alliances for the year. Dressed in their finest, they arrived to dance the dance of status and placement in the hierarchy.
 
Once he had tricked Muffin into a kennel with a hambone, and also dressed in his finest, Teagan went to the Gnawed Noble to escort Edwina. While there, he tried one last time to convince Arlessa Mathilde to attend. He was a bit worried for her and regretted that he hadn’t called on her sooner. A night out away from her worries might do her a world of good, but she refused. Teagan wouldn’t leave her alone though until she promised to allow him to escort her to the next one.
 
As they walked back to Eamon’s estate, Edwina put her hand in the crook of Teagan’s arm. 
 
“Thank you, Teagan,” she said.
 
“Me? What did I do?”
 
“You can’t tell it, but Mother was very touched by you stopping by to chat with us earlier. And for tonight, trying to convince her to get out. You’ve done more for her in rejoining the world at large than I’ve been able to accomplish.” A touch of sadness crossed her eyes. “Losing Father on top of losing Ian and Scott…Scott was only a youth of fourteen. It was very hard on her.”
 
He could see it had been hard on her as well.
 
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked. 
 
“Yes, someone has to be there for West Hills.”
 
“All right, but if you want to leave, just say so, Edwina. Even if you just need to step out and get away from it for a bit.”
 
He felt her hand tighten on his arm as they entered Eamon’s estate and the sound of music and the sight of bright colors and lights struck them after the gloom and quiet of the evening.
 
Edwina was immediately swept up in a group of young women her own age and Teagan grinned, feeling she was going to be all right here. Since he had promised her mother, he would keep one eye on her, but he could relax and enjoy himself as well. 
 
Almost immediately Bann Regina separated from her knot of admirers and friends to greet Teagan.
 
“How interesting that you showed up with the young heir of West Hills,” she purred, attaching herself to his arm. “That’s sure to throw them off the scent.”
 
He frowned, a bit taken aback.
 
“Throw who off?” he asked.
 
“You’ll see. Surely you must realize, Teagan, with Fergus remarried you’re one of the most eligible bachelors left alive in Ferelden.”
 
“I’m not…looking,” he said. 
 
He didn’t want to reveal too much for Neria’s sake, mindful of Arlessa Mathilde’s earlier warning.
 
She laughed in a low, sensual way and patted his arm affectionately, her tone patronizing. “Of course, you aren’t and if anyone asks me I will stick to that story as well. You can count on me.”
 
Teagan frowned. Usually he was an observer, not a participant in the dance of politics. “Far be it from me to impose on your good graces, Bann Regina. If you spend all your time with me, your collection of admirers will expire from loneliness.”
 
“They will live,” she sighed. Somehow she managed to make it sound like a great sacrifice without really feeling one way or the other about it. “Unless you find my company unpleasant, Teagan?”
 
He was aware of the heat of her pressed to his side and he could swear she was flirting with him herself. But he didn’t find her attention unpleasant. She was an attractive and lively woman, who could be a powerful ally or powerful enemy depending on what side you got of those green eyes, and Teagan couldn’t help but have his head turned a little. She seemed to take his silence as acquiescence and continued to press her advantage, talking and tucking her arm in his companionably, walking around the room and engaging the various nobles in discussion. 
 
From the looks he was getting from the younger, single nobles in the room, Teagan was actually grateful Regina was monopolizing his time.  There was a hunger there akin to a pack of mabari on the hunt.
 
Eamon, Ceorlic and several older banns were gathered nearby. Teagan didn’t think his brother looked very happy. Doubtless what he was hearing wasn’t going to be good news later. Eamon broke off from his group and signaled Teagan.
 
“Excuse me, Bann Regina, I see my brother signaling me from across the room,” he said, disentangling himself from the engaging woman and joined Eamon.
 
“Loren?” Teagan asked when they were standing in an alcove for privacy. 
 
“This is more than Loren. There are a lot of disaffected banns, more than I thought, in truth. Alistair’s been focusing on the city, getting in more trade, and the efforts to restore the countryside are not going fast enough for some of the Bannorn.”

Teagan frowned. “Redcliffe and Rainesfere did well enough to make it through winter this year, but I doubt some of the more affected lands did. West Hills was hit pretty bad and has pretty much been abandoned for now. I hear South Reach didn’t fare so well either, but Bryland is a capable man, so they should be all right. Waking Sea and Dragon’s Peak are doing well—they were pretty much removed from most of the horde and the civil war.”
 
“I saw young Wulff here with you tonight. I take it you spoke to Arlessa Wulff as well?”

Teagan nodded and relayed what he had learned in his conversation with Arlessa Mathilde.
 
“It would make sense,” Eamon said, taking it all in. “Amaranthine is a rich arling. Sadly, once the Blights are defeated, it seems the Grey Wardens are always forgotten or pushed aside. I fear Alistair may have stirred up a hornet’s nest, but he doesn’t always heed my council. I’ve heard similar rumors of unrest, but for now it’s too far out of our hands to deal with. We’ll have to trust Neria can. We need more eyes and ears in Denerim, Teagan.
 
“I noticed Bann Regina seems to have taken a liking to you. She’s been alone since her husband died last year in the war. She would be a powerful ally to have on our side. Stick close to her, find out what she knows and see if being with her will loosen other tongues as well. I know you don’t like politics, but you have a keen mind, Teagan, and you listen well.”
 
Teagan was shaking his head, balking at this idea. 
 
“I can’t just ignore this, Eamon. Neria is in danger—I have to go to her.” Teagan protested, speaking the first words that came to mind. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m useless at politics, Brother, and I should be with Neria. I would have left as soon as I heard about the unrest in Amaranthine, but the Landsmeet is in three days.”
 
“We’re all in danger here, Teagan. Whatever they have planned is already in motion there or will be soon enough. You have to have faith she can deal with it. She’s the Hero of Ferelden and she’s not without resources or her own protectors. I’m sorry, but we need you here. Alistair needs you. The future of Ferelden may rest in our hands.”
 
Teagan was torn. His heart bade him go to Amaranthine to face whatever danger awaited Neria, together. His head told him he could do more for her here in Denerim, fighting to resolve this crisis in the Bannorn. Eamon was also being reasonable, not arguing with him or giving him the stony, stubborn glares they had been exchanging the past week. Hope kindled that they may heal the breach between them soon.
 
“All right, Eamon I’ll do what I can,” Teagan promised. 
 
Eamon moved back out to mingle with the guests while Teagan held back in the alcove watching. His hand went to his throat, feeling the small lump under his tunic that was the little locket and sighed, finding its physical reality a small comfort.
 
The chamberlain announced the teyrn and teyrna of Highever had arrived. Fergus and Leah entered, without Michael, Teagan noticed. Doubtless they were going to spring the teyrn of Gwaren on the Landsmeet. Teagan watched as they greeted people in the room, moving from person to person, Fergus with one hand on Leah’s arm protectively. There was a change in the room Teagan couldn’t put his finger on, a tension that previously hadn’t been there before. It was more than that these two had more rank than anyone else present—it was something more…malicious.
 
He overheard two young women near him.
 
“Look at him, he’s so handsome. She’s so lucky,” said the first.
 
“Lucky? Maybe, but look how ‘friendly’ she had to get to grab the teyrn of Highever,” complained the second.
 
“She looks like she’s about to burst right here on the floor.”
 
“That would ruin the carpets,” said the second giggling, nastily.
 
“She must be…what seven months? Eight?” said another girl nearby.
 
“They’ve only been married since the war ended,” said the first.
 
He was about to say something when Edwina stepped ahead of him and snapped at them. 
 
“You silly, malicious magpies!” she gasped. For all the vehemence in her tone, it never exceeded a whisper. “La…Teyrna Leah is a nice person. I won’t listen to such slanderous nonsense!”
 
They glared at Edwina, but were shocked into momentary silence. Their fathers were all minor banns and she was an arl’s daughter, even if her arling was a blighted shambles.
 
“We’re only saying what everyone is thinking,” said the first girl, defensively.
 
“Edwina, you’re just as bad,” said the third. “We saw you fawning all over Bann Teagan. So when will you get yourself in a family way? It seems to be what all the nice people do to advance.”
 
Teagan cleared his throat in a loud, pointed way and the girls blinked and scattered when they noticed him in the alcove. One, bolder than the rest, sneered at Edwina. 

“Your idiot mother won’t live forever, Edwina, and West Hills is a mess. You’ll be penniless and homeless soon enough.”
 
Teagan stepped up to take Edwina’s arm, but she shrugged him off, stuck out her chin proudly and glared back at the foolish girl. 

“Have a care of whom you speak. The Arling of West Hills may be blighted now, but it won’t always be so and I still have the Wulff name. My father was not without influence in the Landsmeet, influence that I will carry when I speak for the Wulff family this spring.
 
“Perhaps I will speak against your father, Bann Mather. His peasants starved while he feasted in his hall this winter, and you certainly look like you didn’t suffer much hardship, either, Mala.”
 
Something in Edwina’s quiet, gray eyes made Mala blink, glare angrily at Edwina, then turn and move away to quickly follow the other two gossips.
 
Teagan leaned close to her ear and whispered to Edwina. “Your father would have been very proud of you tonight.”
 
She glared at the girls who still had their malicious little heads together.
 
“Maybe. Such things didn’t bother my father like they do me, but family was important to him, and I won’t have Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland slandered that way. They offered what aid they could to West Hills’ recovery even though they were hit by the raids, too. They’re good people.”
 
“That they are,” Teagan agreed. “Is it true? What they were saying?”
 
“Does it matter? Look at them. Have you ever seen a man and a woman so in love before?”
 
“Perhaps I have, but you’re right, they certainly seem happy.”
 
“I’d give anything to be loved like that,” she whispered, wistfully. “Bann Teagan, is it true what I have heard?”
 
“I don’t know. What have you heard?”
 
“That the Hero of Ferelden and you…are close,” she stumbled over the words.
 
There was something about Edwina, something old and wise, Teagan felt, a wisdom born of pain and courage in the face of tragedy. She was good and kind and mature beyond her years. Teagan trusted her.
 
“Yes,” he said.
 
“Be careful then. Bann Regina has staked her ‘claim’ on you and the other women won’t press that unless they think they can get away with it. You may find you have a lot more offers of company this spring. If you care for…what was her name?”
 
“Neria,” Teagan supplied.
 
“Neria. If you care for her, be careful. I don’t trust Regina. She’s too…political, but it could just be me, gossiping out of turn now myself.”
 
“You don’t strike me as the idle gossip,” he said.
 
As if speaking of her brought her to them, Regina walked over to them, tucked her arm in Teagan’s and smiled sweetly to Edwina.
 
“You don’t mind if I borrow him, do you, dear?” she said. 
 
Nor did she wait for an answer, turning her attention to Teagan, and smiling, pulled him away from Edwina to where people had gathered around the Couslands.
 

[Sue]

keep them coming..... just love reading this one . Great work..... Always look forward to M- W -F for yours to read.

[sylvanaerie]

I'm glad you're liking it Sue, I'm having a lot of fun writing it too!

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Seven
 
It was discovered that the darkspawn had entered the keep through the basements, striking among the Wardens there before they could even be sensed. Now Neria, Anders and Nathaniel stood in the basement of one of the smaller buildings on the edge of the keep’s grounds, hoping to find some clue as to where the missing Wardens had been taken.
 
Neria wasn’t entirely comfortable having to rely on Nathaniel’s guidance in the layout of Vigil’s Keep. Even if he had been on his best behavior, she still didn’t trust him. Instead of saying anything, she voiced none of her unease, keeping her staff at readiness.
 
Anders had her back, she knew. She had known him before in the tower, not closely, but enough that she knew his capabilities. He was a couple years older than her, but she had been in the tower longer than he had, as he had only arrived as a teenager. His almost constant chatter reminded her of Alistair’s tendency to talk to fill the void.
 
Ahead they found an injured mabari, covered in blood and dying of the blight sickness. Carefully, Neria touched the beast’s head, casting a small spell to remove the animal’s pain. Then she pulled out her dagger and cut the dog’s throat. The dog expired with a soft sigh and Neria felt wretched, thinking of her own beloved Muffin.
 
She found a note attached to the dog’s collar.
 
“This is from a woman named Adria,” she said. “She’s taken refuge deeper inside, she says, and needs help.”
 
“Adria? I know her. She was like a mother to me,” said Nathaniel. “Please, we must help her.”
 
Neria feared that what they would find wouldn’t be good, but she nodded in agreement. They moved down the stairs to more subterranean rooms. It was eerily quiet in the large storage area below. She could smell grain and alcohol from broken wine bottles. She opened a few sacks in curiosity.  There was no taint on the grain and it could be distributed to the people in the arling.
 
In a chest in the storage room she found a broken bow of beautiful blue-white wood and a quiver full of arrows.
 
“I know that,” said Nathaniel. Neria handed it to him. “This was my grandfather’s bow. Well, not just his, it was made for one of our ancestors to use during the Exalted Marches, but he was the last to use it. Father locked it away down here—he wouldn’t let me near it. I remember I sneaked down here once and he was furious when he found me down here playing with it.”
 
“Did you break it?” Anders asked.
 
Nathaniel laughed. “No, see this crest here? Only a Howe can activate the enchantment to restore it to use.”
 
He ran his hands along the smooth wood, speaking the words of power. The wood bent under his touch, reshaping to the curvature of a beautifully made bow.
 
“It’s beautiful,” said Nathaniel, smiling pulling back the bowstring to test it. “Simple lines, good tension on the string and still supple after all these years—this is an excellent bow.”
 
“Neat trick,” said Anders.
 
“But where is Adria?” Nathaniel frowned, looking around.
 
Neria shook her head and then looked past him. Against the far wall was a crack missed from the other side where they had first entered the basement, large enough for a human sized person to enter.
 
Neria only had to bend a little to pass through, the men had to turn and duck lower. Nate followed her, with Anders bringing up the rear.
 
“There are advantages to being an elf, I’d imagine,” quipped Anders brushing dust off his robes. “I was a little afraid I was going to get stuck in th—”
 
Neria put a hand on his mouth to silence him. Sounds ahead of them of tools hitting stone, the smell of rot and taint assailing them, the companions moved forward slowly.
 
“Thank you,” whispered Nathaniel. “Maybe we can find a gag for him.”
 
Anders glared at them both, but held his tongue.
 
Neria nodded and tried to be as quiet as she could, letting Nathaniel scout ahead. The rogue moved along the wall, picking his path carefully, mindful of any traps that may have been set for the unwary or curious. Neria followed him, trying to put her feet where he stepped. Anders followed her closely and for once he also seemed to understand the need for silence.
 
The high vaulted ceiling over them reminded her more of the Deep Roads than a naturally occurring structure. She wondered how extensive the dwarven roads were.
 
More than a dozen men were in the shaft ahead of them. Neria thought the material on the walls might be veridium, but she wasn’t a miner and would have to take some samples to Herren and Wade for more definitive identification. It looked like veridium though, which would equip the keep with better armor and weapons.
 
The man closest to them turned a tainted, pockmarked face toward them and opened his mouth, issuing a hissing call that alerted the others in the tunnel, and they turned, running at the three Grey Wardens.
 
In moments, Nathaniel had dropped two with arrows sent from his bow. A third tackled Anders who went down under it, a lightning spell barely making it out of his fingers in time, charring the ghoul’s skin and turning it black. Neria brought her hands together and pulled them back creating a spell of concussive force stunning the others, buying them a few moments of time. She followed that with an ice spell, freezing the one attacking Anders and finishing it off.
 
Anders pushed the ghoul off him and stood again, flames leaping from his fingertips, burning two of the ghouls near him as Neria’s stun spell wore off and they rose to the attack again. Two more arrows from Nathaniel whistled through the air and embedded themselves in one of the ghouls. A blast of cold from Neria froze two of them trying to attack Anders and Nathaniel’s arrows finished those off moments later, shattering them, bits of ghoul flying in several directions.


One of the ghouls barreled into Neria, hissing and clawing at her throat, slamming her to the ground. She brought up her hands to keep the creature from ripping out her throat but with her hands engaged she couldn’t cast. She felt the creature’s hands bearing down on her throat cutting off her air.
 
Anders was occupied with three of his own, unable to come to her aid, and Nathaniel just stood, staring at the ghoul attacking Neria with a horrified expression.
 
“Nathaniel! Kill it!” Anders yelled, focusing a lightning bolt at the three on him.
 
Neria’s vision began to gray and knew she was going to pass out in another moment from lack of air as the creature’s claws tightened on her throat, choking her. Then the pressure eased off, just before she completely lost consciousness. A weight dropped on her chest and she shoved it to one side, coughing and gasping for breath, trying to fill her burning lungs. An arrow had pierced the creature’s throat and tainted blood washed over her, but she was free to move and breathe again.
 
“Don’t talk.” She heard Anders voice near her ear and felt his hands on her throat.
 
She heard him whispering, almost singing the words of the healing spell. Soothing healing magic poured into her, easing the pain and allowing her to breathe more easily. She looked at Nathaniel, her eyes begging mutely for an explanation and he turned away with a stricken expression, but not before she saw the gleam of tears in his eyes.
 
“She could have been killed!” Anders snapped. “Why did you hesitate?”
 
The single word of explanation was all Nathaniel offered up, but it was all he needed.
 
“Adria.”
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
When they returned to the surface, Neria met with the banns of Amaranthine. With Amaranthine belonging to the Grey Wardens, as the Commander of the Grey she was an arlessa, essentially taking on Howe’s position in the arling, and the ceremony of swearing fealty had to be held. She stood quietly nodding to each as they stepped up speaking the oath. First was Bann Esmerelle, one of the most influential. After her, they all stepped up one by one till the lengthy ceremony was done.
 
Neria mingled with a few, but found too many of them fit the idea she had of most of the nobility. Spoiled, self centered and grasping for whatever power they could get. A few seemed pretty decent, though, in particular the man who spoke up for the farmers in the region, asking for more troops, Lord Eddelbrek.
 
Anders was chattering away in a knot of pretty ladies, showing off the kitten he had rescued earlier that day and given the silly moniker of “Ser Pounce-A-Lot” and for which Howe teased him mercilessly. Neria neglected to tell Nathaniel about the name he had given the tower’s mouser, “Ser Wiggums,” She didn’t want to fuel their rivalry any more than she had to. She liked Anders—he was much more social and comfortable around people than the essentially shy Neria was. He filled their time together with a lot more cheer and chat than the normally laconic Nathaniel and quiet Neria did.
 
Neither did Nathaniel seem to be fond of attention. After the first couple of people tried to talk with him, glad to see one of the Howe children present, he stepped out of the hall. Neria was trying to decide if she should follow him or give him some space. Since earlier that morning when he had been forced to kill the woman he had seen as a mother, she worried about him.
 
She decided to follow him and was on her way out the door when a young woman stopped her. She pulled her to one side, looking around carefully to ensure they were not overheard. Neria recalled her introducing herself as Ser Tamra.
 
“Commander, I have to tell you your life is in danger,” she said.
 
“What else is new?” Neria sighed. It seemed everyone was out to end her life lately.
“Is this about Howe or something else?”
 
“Howe wants to kill you?”
 
“No, never mind, a poor jest, sorry. What’s going on?”
 
“I’ve intercepted some missives from several of the banns here in Amaranthine with others outside the arling. Alone, none of them are especially damning, but together they form an alarming pattern.  There’s a conspiracy to remove the Grey Wardens from Amaranthine, and most specifically to kill you.”
 
“That’s a pretty serious charge. Did you bring them with you?”
 
“I wasn’t sure what was safe. I stand to lose much here and gain little, Commander, but I will gather what I have when I get home, and bring it to you.”
 
“Thank you, Ser Tamra. If you’ll excuse me?”
 
She went to Varel and spoke with him about what she had learned. Varel dismissed the nobles and cleared the hall so they could speak privately.
 
“Some of these banns had no love for Howe, but some found their prospects dried up with his demise,” said Varel. “I’m surprised it’s taken this long. Ser Tamra is a clever woman and honorable. If she says there’s a conspiracy I wouldn’t discount it, Commander.”
 
“What would you suggest I do?”

“Well, there is a man I might be able to contact for you who can root out the conspirators. He won’t be cheap, but he is effective.”
 
“Then do it. I’ll make the funds available to Mistress Woolsey. This business is happening all over Ferelden, but it would seem it is mine to deal with here in Amaranthine.”
 
“I’ll see what I can do, Commander.”
 
“Tomorrow, I’m going in search of Kristoff. Maybe he can provide some answers to what’s going on here.”
 
“His last confirmed whereabouts was an inn in Amaranthine, where he kept a room. He was a bit more of a loner than the other Wardens. I guess that’s a turn of good luck for us that he was.”
 
Neria nodded and left the hall. Leaning against the wall, she touched the little pendant around her throat, praying that Teagan was safer in Denerim than she was here.
 
She didn’t have far to go to find Nathaniel. He was standing alone on a battlement overlooking the green countryside. She climbed the steps and came to stand beside him.
 
For a long time she just stood there and finally he scowled at her.
 
“If you want an explanation, I’m not going to offer one,” he said.
 
She shrugged. “I just came for the view and the night air.”
 
Again a few minutes of silence, then he spoke. “I’m sorry. I froze and you got hurt.”
 
She looked at him and saw him staring at the marks on her throat, a pained look in his eyes. Anders spell had healed most of damage, but it was still tender when she spoke and she shook her head.
 
“It’s a normal reaction. I don’t blame you. I tend to get a little overconfident in fights and lose track of what’s around me,” she said.
 
“I noticed that. You dropped your guard trying to help Anders. One of these days that distraction is going to get you killed.”
 
“Sorry to disappoint you. I know you hate me, Nathaniel, and I don’t blame you, but I would like to be your friend. If you ever wanted to talk about something bothering you….”
 
“Not right now, and I don’t hate you, not anymore. I’m just not ready to talk about it.”
 
She nodded and stood quietly beside him, just offering silent companionship.
 

[Sue]

just finished reading it, great as always. can't wait for Wednesday...

[sylvanaerie]

There were a lot of fun chapters for me in this story.  This was another one.  I love characters with more than one dimension and I hope that's what I have achieved with Regina.  From the dream sequence at the start, to the excitement at the Landsmeet, and the quiet aftermath at the end, this was by far my favorite chapter in the story.


Chapter Eight
 
She giggled as she ran before him, her red hair streaming out behind her like a banner. Teagan had chased her across the yard and into the meadow where the tall grass grew like soldiers standing at attention. She reached the top of the meadow’s rise and paused to look back at him. The smile on her face took his breath away and he stopped to look at her. She just stood there watching him with that smoldering look that drove him mad with want for her.
 
He walked the few steps between them and she smiled at him, watching him close the distance, one brow delicately arching when he got close enough to hold her in his arms. She reached her arms up to him, standing on her tiptoes and kissed his throat just over his Adam’s apple. He felt an answering jolt along his spine at the touch of her soft lips to his skin.
 
She was warm and pliant under his touch—he’d never touched anyone with such soft skin before. He bent his lips to hers, pausing just over them, feeling her warm, sweet breath on his face before gently capturing her mouth with his. Strawberries, she tasted of strawberries. She teased his lips with her tongue, nibbling with her teeth and sucking on his bottom lip.
 
She unbuttoned his shirt to the waist and ran her fingers down his chest, playing over the muscles of his abdomen teasing close to the core of his pleasure. With a giggle, her lips began to follow her fingers…
 
He awoke with a start and groaned, rolling over and grabbing her pillow, pulling it to him. A poor substitute for the warm and willing woman in his dream, or the one who had shared his bed all winter.
 
He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but the noises of the house that had roused him from his dream continued unabated and he lay there unable to doze back off. Awakened fully now, his concerns rose back up to haunt him.
 
She had been gone a week now, and he prayed he would hear something from her soon. He had already posted one letter north to Amaranthine. He might be bound to Denerim till the problems with the Bannorn were dealt with, but he had to try to warn her of the danger she was in.
 
He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning.
 
Today was the Landsmeet. Usually these things went on for a week or more as petty issues were argued back and forth and policies for the coming year adopted. There was no telling what would happen this year. At the very least, it was going to seem strange not having Maric or Cailan there. Even if Anora had made most of the decisions during Cailan’s brief rule on the throne, she’d had the good grace to make it seem it was her husband who was ruling.
 
He rose and dressed for the day in his chain mail armor and buckled his sword at his waist. If there was to be trouble at the Landsmeet, he wanted to be prepared.
 
Downstairs, Isolde was sitting at the breakfast table alone again. She raised a brow at the sight of Teagan dressed as if off to war.
 
“It never hurts to be prepared. The last Landsmeet broke out in pandemonium. The one before that I thought Loghain was going to have me executed for treason on the spot.”
 
“I remember. Remind Eamon he is not as young as he used to be.”
 
“I will, Isolde. Got to run, no time to eat. See you later today, Sister.”
 
He gave her a peck on the cheek, then reached for the bowl of strawberries on the table and plucked a few from it, popping one in his mouth as he strode out the door.
 
Muffin came trotting up beside Teagan, and for once the bann didn’t try to stop the mabari. He wanted every asset he could put at his disposal now and was grateful Neria had left her warhound in his care.
 
He didn’t dawdle this morning. He went straight to the palace. Already several of the banns had arrived. He saw Edwina standing to one side and went to her.
 
“Good morning, Bann Teagan. I see you came expecting trouble,” she said quietly.
 
“As did you,” he replied, his voice low as well.
 
Edwina was wearing leather armor and sporting two wicked looking daggers at her hip. She shrugged.
 
“With all the troubles the other banns have been having, I figured it may be a prudent move. I hope we can resolve this peacefully.”
 
“As do I,” he replied. “Ferelden doesn’t need to be torn apart. Your mother didn’t come?”
 
“I was serious when I told those girls I would be speaking for West Hills now. My mother has all but turned over the title of Arlessa over to me. She just doesn’t have it in her anymore.”
 
Teagan frowned. He had known Mathilde for many years now and she had usually supported Eamon’s stance in the Landsmeet, even if it was her husband, Gallagher, who spoke for their arling. Looking over the people present, some of the banns were unfamiliar to him, and he realized a new generation was coming into power in the Bannorn.
 
“There were a lot of lives lost in the Blight,” he said.
 
“And the civil war,” she said.
 
She frowned and he got the feeling she was going to say something else, but a familiar voice purred at his ear and he felt Bann Regina tuck her arm in his, interrupting their conversation.
 
“Bann Teagan, come, let’s get a good spot for the festivities, shall we? We can’t see anything back in this little mouse hole.”
 
He got the feeling she was being insulting, but she smiled so sweetly at Edwina when she said it, he wasn’t sure. Edwina’s expression was inscrutable.
 
“You go on ahead, Bann Teagan. I think I’ll just stay in my little mouse hole for now,” she said.
 
Taking a place on the balcony, Teagan watched as the others began to file in. Bann Alfstanna, Bann Sighard and Bann Ceorlic took their places on the opposite balcony. He felt Arl Bryland move up to stand beside him. Arl Vaughan stood nearby, looking down at the gathered assemblage. Teagan recalled his father, Urien had been an ardent royalist and he wondered how Vaughan would be voting on things.
 
Shortly, the moment Teagan had been anticipating happened, and the Cousland brothers entered. Fergus wore a tabard bearing Highever’s colors and Michael was wearing Gwaren’s.
 
Teagan watched, amused, at the stunned silence as the expressions of shock and surprise ran through the banns assembled. Even Regina stiffened beside him in surprise, an emotion he rarely saw on her face.
 
His thoughts must have shown on his face. Regina poked Teagan and pouted petulantly. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”
 
Shrugging, he responded, “It wasn’t my secret to tell. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t tell Isolde either.”
 
She giggled. “I’m glad. Bryce and Eleanor will be missed, but I’m glad their sons lived.”
 
Obviously, Michael was enjoying this, as he couldn’t wipe that mischievous grin off his face. But Fergus was grim-faced.
 
Though they had the status to ascend to a balcony, Fergus and Michael chose to remain on the ground floor, though Fergus took Leah up to the balcony where they normally would be standing. The very pregnant woman sat down on one of the seats there, flanked by two of Highever’s knights, while her husband took a position by his brother.
 
Edwina also took her place in her father’s old spot, not far from Leah’s seat, smiling sadly and running her fingers along the wood of the railing.
 
Also dressed for trouble in his armor, Eamon stepped up to stand beside Teagan.
 
Shortly after all the banns were assembled, King Alistair emerged. For just a moment, Teagan’s heart skipped a beat and he thought Maric himself had returned to the throne left to Cailan by his disappearance at sea seven years ago. There was no denying this was Maric’s son. Teagan had to hand it to the boy—he had grown in presence since taking over his father’s throne. His sense of timing was good anyway.
 
Thus began the Landsmeet.  Matters before the Crown this year were mostly petty issues, which were dealt with quickly and easily enough. Since the banns involved were unable to resolve them, it was left to the gathered assemblage, and ultimately the king, to decide. Alistair made some fairly reasonable rulings and most involved felt the compromises were fair and equitable.
 
With a large portion of the Bannorn in a blighted state, the issue of improving the flow of trade with neighboring countries was brought forth and while most supported the motion of getting in more goods, many of them didn’t want to foot the bill for such. Alistair took it upon himself, meaning the Crown, to handle this. As it was something he had already been working on, he had obviously anticipated this.
 
The problem of restoring the blighted landscape was brought up and the tone of the discussion began to get ugly. Chief among the proponents of more concessions from the Crown was Bann Loren. His assertions were backed by several of the more disaffected banns, particularly Bann Mather.
 
“The situation is dire, your Majesty,” said Loren. “People in the Bannorn are starving. We need more goods until the effects of the Blight can be removed.”
 
Teagan frowned. He was well aware there had been hardship in many of the Bannorns’ households, but he also knew most of that hardship had come from excesses and mismanagement on the part of the nobles. However, Teagan felt Loren’s reasons for asking for more went beyond those needs.
 
He was about to speak up when Fergus’s voice rose over the gathered assemblage.
 
“The Blight?” he said, his voice clipped and controlled. “Why not call your need by its true name? We know you’ve been gathering mercenaries, Loren. That’s the real reason why you want more goods. Who is your next target? Will Gwaren be next?”
 
Next to him, his brother tried to restrain him, but Fergus had obviously been in tight control so long it was about to snap.
 
“I’m sorry about your parents, Fergus. Your father was a good man, but we must attend to the here and now. I hired some men to offer better security when I heard about the bandit attacks in…the bannorn.”
 
“Not just the bannorn, Loren. Highever was hit and two of our villages were burned to the ground,” said Fergus. “Let’s just call it what it is—raids. These weren’t simple attacks. You don’t slaughter everything to a man and call that an attack.”
 
Michael let go of his brother’s arm and stepped back, but his gaze glared out at the rest of Loren’s supporters. He had his brother’s back if there was trouble.
 
The Reverend Mother looked at Alistair, who nodded, obviously both concerned that open hostilities would erupt.
 
“Enough,” he said. “You say you gather men to defend your lands. Their upkeep will be your responsibility, not the Crown’s.  Please, feel free to hire more mercenaries, but those hiring extra ‘help’ will not be assisted this year as you quite obviously have the resources to support them. I already have the names of several banns that have done so and your concessions this year will be cut.
 
“And let me make this perfectly clear. If there are more ‘bandit attacks’ this year, those with mercenaries will be the first held accountable to supply troops to the army that will have to root out those bandits. The Crown will not expend resources on this matter. Since they remain so elusive, I suppose that will take some time to sort out.
 
“If I learn otherwise, that these ‘attacks’ were orchestrated by anyone present, there will be serious reprisals.”
 
“You can’t just let them get away with it,” said Fergus, incredulously.
 
Teagan frowned. It would seem his experiences during the war had changed the sweet boy from Highever. He seemed almost obsessed with punishing the raiders and their employers.
 
“Brother, they aren’t just ‘getting away with it,’” Michael said. “Calm down, you aren’t helping Leah and your baby this way.”
 
Fergus turned on Loren and grasped his collar.
 
“I won’t let them be hurt again!” he said, his voice a tense growl. “I won’t …”
 
A sharp whistle near his ear made Teagan turn. It was Edwina, who was holding Leah by the elbow helping her stand, moving her out of a pool of water under her feet. On the other side of the pregnant teryna was one of the knights, also supporting her.
 
“Teyrn Cousland, your wife needs you,” she said.
 
“Fergus, darling, it’s time.” Leah’s voice was surprisingly calm.
 
Simultaneously, the expression burst from Bann Sighard and Fergus, “Maker’s breath!”
 
Fergus took the steps up two at a time to come stand by his wife. A moment later the expectant grandfather was there on the other.
 
“What…what do we do? It’s too soon,” Fergus said, his voice in a near panic.
 
Edwina shook her head.
 
“Men,” she sighed. She leaned over the railing. “Your Majesty, is there a room where we can have some privacy for the teyrna? And perhaps a healer can be summoned?”
 
“Please,” Leah said to Edwina. “Please come with me. Maker bless them, I love my father and husband, but men are useless in this situation.”
 
Alistair, as shocked as everyone else, quickly regained his composure and nodded. He summoned the chamberlain who took charge and led Fergus, Sighard and Leah to one of the rooms in the palace. A messenger was sent to bring Sighard’s wife to the palace so she could be present for her daughter as well. Edwina and Alistair followed and silence descended on the gathered bannorn.
 
After a few moments, a low hum filled the room as voices rose again to a quiet whisper. Any dissention or malicious gossip was quickly squelched by a glare from Michael.
 
A bit later, Alistair returned with Edwina and went to Michael. He spoke close to the young man’s ear and then Michael nodded to Alistair, bowed to the assemblage and left the room, following Edwina.
 
“Now that that bit of excitement is done, let’s finish this,” said Alistair. “I’m kind of excited to see whether we’ll greet an up and coming teyrn or teyrna!”
 
There was a general murmur of expectancy from the crowd, also curious what the baby’s sex would be, but that would take many hours to be revealed and there was the business of a country to run.
 
The idea of a tax to cover expenses of restocking was discussed and was polarizing the banns in the room. Teagan loathed taxing already strained poor people just to make life easier for their banns. Rainesfere and Redcliffe had fared well, but other areas, such as West Hills, were decimated. Regina patted his arm and smiled at him.
 
The lovely bann disengaged her arm from Teagan and stepped forth.
 
“Your Majesty, Southern Plains has done well this past year. We were sufficiently removed from the path of the darkspawn, and our harvest went well. I would be happy to donate surplus to the rest of the Bannorn, at a reasonable price, of course. There will be no need to beggar the needy.”
 
She looked pointedly at admirers who had been all too eager to try to curry her favor, but were now ducking heads and trying not to meet her eyes.
 
One man in his late forties, whose name escaped Teagan, stood. “As did mine, your Majesty. We pledge our aid as well.”
 
Regina smiled sweetly at him and now others began to step forward. Either currying favor with her or the king, Teagan wasn’t sure, but no one wanted to be left out of the loop of generosity.
 
One by one, people stood and offered their assistance to those who had known hardship, though some more reluctantly than others, and Alistair smiled. He seemed much more relaxed.
 
“The Teryns of Highever and Gwaren have also agreed to aid those in greater need as well, with both surplus supplies and man-power if necessary,” said Alistair.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
A couple of hours later, final business was finished up for the day and several people went to the rooms Teyrna Leah had been taken to. Alistair and Teagan joined Edwina, Fergus, Sighard and Michael in the antechamber where they were awaiting the arrival of the new Cousland. Several others waited in the hall outside, concerned for the young woman and her child.
 
Fergus was sitting anxiously, his hands knotted together as Leah struggled to bring their child into the world.
 
“It’s too soon, Michael, it’s too soon,” he kept saying over and over. “I never should have brought her here.”
 
“Leah insisted, Brother,” said Michael, a supportive hand on his brother’s back. “You know how she is. She was always that way, whatever she wanted she got. She was always strong willed and she still is. She’ll be fine, and so will your child.”
 
Sighard nodded, worry etched on his face.
 
“I can’t lose another one, Michael,” Fergus said. “I just can’t.”
 
Edwina took Fergus’s hand and seemed to will courage into him. “Enough of such talk. You must be strong for Leah. It’s in the Maker’s hands now and we must cope as best we can. You must have faith she’ll be all right.”
 
Fergus rose and paced back and forth. “Why is this taking so long? Why won’t they tell us what’s—”
 
A shriek and a curse muffled by the closed door made him tense up and stare horrified at the doorway. Teagan wasn’t sure he had ever heard a human throat make that kind of sound before.
 
“Well, um, you remember, Fergus, the stories Mother used to tell. According to her, we came out with all our baby teeth, and at least thirty pounds and walking. And I don’t really think I believe that story about the three day labor. Surely it doesn’t really take that long?”
 
“Maker’s breath, Michael, that’s not helping.”
 
Michael shrugged. “Neither is worrying. Just try to relax, Fergus. Women have been having babies since…well, since the Maker made them. Leah’s body will know what to do even if she doesn’t.”
 
Then a tiny, petulant cry issued forth from the room, heralding a burst of hopeful exuberance on Fergus’s face.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
A bit later, with Fergus sitting beside her on the bed holding his son, Leah was propped on pillows holding her daughter. Despite their early birth, both were of sturdy Ferelden stock and the midwife had pronounced each healthy and whole. Fergus looked like he would burst with pride at any moment.
 
“Twins,” Teagan said, watching the little family in awe.
 
“Twins,” snorted Michael. He tried to sound annoyed, but Teagan could hear the pride of a new uncle in his voice. “He’ll be insufferable now. There’ll be no living with him.”
 
“So, what will you name them?” Edwina asked, smiling down at the new parents.
 
Leah looked at Fergus and nodded. He grinned.
 
“If it had been a boy, we were going to call him Bryce.” He indicated his son who was sleeping peacefully after all the excitement, then nodded to the little girl who was looking at the faces around her with bright, blue eyes. “And if a girl, Eleanor. I see no reason why we have to change that plan.”
 
Teagan leaned against the door and again his hand came up to clutch at the little golden locket as he tried to imagine himself and Neria in that picture. Then he frowned at the thought, imagining Eamon’s reaction to half elven, possibly mage children. No one was paying attention to the quiet bann in the corner. Michael and Fergus were teasing and joking with each other, trying to shock the ladies, and Alistair was talking shyly with Edwina, one hand behind his head, patting his cowlick down. Sighard stood nearby with his wife, proud grandparents. The crowd outside had dissipated once it had been learned what Leah had brought forth into the world.
 
Teagan slipped out and went home. It was a happy day for Ferelden that hostilities had been avoided, at least for a time, and the Cousland family had doubled in an afternoon. Fergus was a good man and he deserved to be happy.
 
For Teagan, he was, of course, relieved that things might just work out but he feared that happiness might not ever be for him. Now that thoughts of the situation were eased, he worried anew for Neria in Amaranthine and he hoped she had people she could trust watching her back.
 
At Eamon’s estate, Teagan went into the study and found Isolde in there, standing by the fire warming her hands.

“Has Eamon been home yet?” he asked.
 
She jumped, startled, and looked at him queerly. “No, he hasn’t come home. What happened?”
 
“Teyrna Leah gave birth tonight. Boy and a girl.”
 
“That’s…good.”
 
“And Michael Cousland survived Howe’s attack on Highever last year.” Teagan chuckled at her astonished look. “And he’s the Teyrn of Gwaren now.”
 
She frowned. “Teagan are you drunk?”
 
“No, Sister, I’m not. I’m just tired. Goodnight, Isolde.”
 
“Good night, Teagan,” she said. “Teagan…”
 
He paused. “Yes, Isolde, what is it?”
 
She ducked her head, frowning. “Nothing. Good night.”
 
Frowning at her strange demeanor, he shrugged. Perhaps they were all a little on edge with things being what they were. He hoped the rest of the Landsmeet would be a lot more boring.

[LadyDamodred]

*giggles madly*



I looove this chapter~! Michael is "halping"!

[sylvanaerie]

Wherein the true character of some people are revealed to Teagan. 

Chapter Nine
 
Those first few days following the eventful Landsmeet that heralded the arrival of the Cousland twins were tense ones. Those banns that had been raided weren’t too happy with the solution, but as they were the ones getting the most aid, so they could hardly complain.
 
All the banns who had hired mercenaries had disbanded their soldiers in an effort to get assistance. While it was the barest minimum, even they got assistance. In light of this, no one could support an army of their own.
 
The mood in Denerim was positive and Teagan was hopeful that things could be resolved after all. If there were no further attacks on his land, he was content to let it end there. He had gotten back most of what had been poached.
 
Weeks passed in Denerim wherein Teagan found his days full. Eamon kept him busy with the politics Teagan had no love for. Still, if this would help solve some of the problems in the Bannorn, Teagan wanted to help his brother.
 
Bann Regina had been a marvel, organizing the accumulation of goods and their distribution, receiving pledges from nearly everyone who had surplus they could spare. Teagan spent a good part of his days helping her and had developed a new respect for Regina. He had previously thought her rather flighty, a beautiful face with no substance behind it, but he began to see there was a quiet strength there. She had a grace that allowed others to find their own nobility and purpose, and she did it all with such diplomacy that they never even realized what she had done. As he got to know her better he saw her earlier behavior as teasing, not really meant maliciously. When she let down her guard, she could actually be very nice.
 
For her part, Regina seemed to enjoy having Teagan’s assistance or at least his company. He knew she probably would’ve done better without him, but again, that quality he noticed in her came to the fore and she made him feel his help was invaluable.
 
What rest of his time that wasn’t spent working at restoring the Bannorn, Teagan spent worrying about Neria in Amaranthine. There was still very little news trickling down from the arling and it had been the largest holding not represented at the Landsmeet this year.
 
He had written her several letters mostly telling her about things that had happened in Denerim and the resolutions found. He wrote of how he missed having her there with him to talk to and his wishes for her speedy and safe return from Amaranthine. He managed to keep them sweet and casual, he thought. Instead, had she felt pressured by him? She had asked for space, that they only maintain an intimate friendship, but if she did feel pressured, she should say something.  Anything would be more tolerable than this silence.
 
She had responded to none of them.
 
Teagan began to wonder if maybe she had given up on him and gone on with whatever Grey Warden business she had to attend to. He hoped if she felt that way, the least she would do was send him some kind of message, but as each day came and went, no word came with it.
 
He had heard that the keep was attacked by darkspawn shortly after Neria would have arrived there and all the Wardens in it were missing. But he had also heard the Warden-Commander had sent the creatures running, so as far as he knew, she was alive.
 
Then last month, news arrived of a violent peasant uprising at the keep that had been put down. This followed on the heels of an attempted coup from the banns in Amaranthine or perhaps precipitated it. The details were hazy.
 
Throughout it all, he only knew the Warden-Commander lived and had beaten every challenge so far. In the darkest parts of Teagan’s nights, he would lie awake listening to the quiet around him and hold on to that fact.
 
She lived.
 
But following on the heels of that realization came the anguished question: Why the silence from her?
 
Finally, two months after the Landsmeet, the news came from Amaranthine. Vigil’s Keep had fallen to darkspawn. While the city had been saved by the Warden-Commander with the help some of the soldiers from the keep and the city guard, there had been an attack on the keep as well. Casualties in both places had been high.
 
It was Ostagar all over again as Denerim anxiously awaited the news. Who had lived? Who had died? Those with families or friends in the arling gathered at the chantry to beseech the silent Maker for mercy.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Bann Regina had been a frequent guest at Arl Eamon’s estate this spring. Usually when Eamon was there, the talk focused on politics and the relief efforts being organized. During this, Isolde would smile at Teagan in that ‘long suffering bored way’ she had whenever Eamon would bend their ears about such matters.
 
Tonight, Teagan wasn’t in the mood to be sociable and he had spent most of the evening in the study, drinking a bit more brandy than he should have. He was aware of Regina slipping in to stand quietly near him by the fireplace.
 
“What troubles you, Teagan?” she asked.
 
“I wouldn’t burden you with this, Regina. You have a lot on your mind yourself.”
 
“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about Evan, but you also have someone you care for there, I know.”
 
Her younger brother was a templar in Amaranthine’s chantry. So far, no casualty lists had arrived, and like the rest of the city, she could only wait and hope.
 
“More than I thought possible,” he admitted.
 
“But there’s something else troubling you?”
 
He nodded, staring into the fire. “I haven’t told her.”
 
The small word from her was quiet and pensive. “Ah.”
 
“There’s been nothing for two months from her. I’ve written her several letters, but there’s been no response.”
 
Her tone was reproachful. “Teagan, you didn’t try to tell her this in a letter without telling her in person first, did you?”
 
He chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I just wish she were here.”
 
She moved closer, her hand rested on his arm.
 
“Perhaps she has moved on and doesn’t know how to tell you, especially in a letter?” she suggested. “Though I don’t see how she could have. You’re a pretty tough act to follow.”
 
He looked at her then as if for the first time. She was beautiful, true, but a lot of her beauty lay within, the strength and grace and a true nobility of spirit was present there. She was so close that if he took a deep breath, they would touch. The scent of the jasmine oil she used on her skin wafted to his nose. Her green eyes glittered in the firelight as she regarded him.
 
Were his heart not already engaged by another, he would have found her very tempting. As it was, he already found her too tempting.
 
She placed her palm on his cheek and leaned forward to kiss his other cheek. She whispered in his ear, her voice dropping to a husky note.
 
“If you decide your friend isn’t worth this worry and aggravation, you know where to find me, Teagan.”
 
Then she kissed his cheek again and stepped back, walking out of the room. Teagan watched her go out the door, his head fuzzy with conflicting feelings and brandy.
 
 
The fire was dying down and Teagan picked up a poker to rearrange the logs. He was poking them watching the sparks of the coals flare up and subdue once more. It was getting to be a bit warm now for fires in the fireplace anyway, he thought. He didn’t know why Isolde insisted on lighting one still.
 
He frowned, his eyes lighting on something odd at the very edge of the ashes. He used the poker to push it the rest of the way out, then fished out a scrap of half-burned parchment. His eyes scanned the words there, his heart sinking. In Neria’s hand he read, “…do not know why you haven’t written me. Have you decided to…. I’ve heard rumors of you and another bann…. Please, just tell me what’s….”
 
Memories came to him of weeks of silence from Amaranthine, of Isolde in the study with what he now realized was a guilty expression. Odd encounters with her during the day where she seemed…distracted….
 
A cold anger washed over him, sobering him. Angrily, his fist clenched around the paper. He smashed his glass in the fireplace and strode out of the study, his tread furious. He found them in the sitting room, listening to music.
 
“Bann Regina, gentlemen, please excuse us, I have something to discuss with my brother and his wife,” Teagan said, his voice carefully measured.
 
“Of course,” said Regina, seeing an ugly confrontation in the making. She followed the musicians out the door and quietly closed it behind her.
 
“Teagan….” Isolde began, nervously.
 
“Don’t ‘Teagan’ me,” he said, his words clipped, waving the scrap of burnt paper under her nose. “Explain yourself, Sister.”
 
“I…I don’t understand, Teagan.”
 
“Teagan, what is the meaning of this? What’s happened?” Eamon asked, concerned and putting himself between his wife and his brother.
 
“She’s been burning my letters to and from Neria!” Teagan said, glaring at Isolde.
 
“I…Teagan, I don’t….”
 
With a soft sigh, Eamon spoke. “Do not be harsh with Isolde, Teagan. I told her to do it.”
 
He looked from Isolde to Eamon, his expression going from anger to hurt.
 
“You?!Eamon, why would you do this?”
 
“I did it because you need to put aside this foolish infatuation and find a nice noblewoman to marry. It’s past time to grow up, Teagan,” Eamon said. “Bann Regina likes you, I can tell. She would make a fine wife. She’s been waiting for you to make the alliance.”
 
“I will choose who I will be with, not you!” Teagan said. “Neria makes me happy, Eamon and….”
 
His voice lowered as he realized the depth of his feelings went much further than he thought. He wouldn’t speak them, not to Eamon, not in this mood and not without telling Neria first.
 
“Very well, I suppose you haven’t sown enough oats with her yet? Regina looks to me to be more than enough for one man to handle but if you feel the need for another woman to warm your bed….” Eamon scoffed. “Keep her as a mistress if you must, but you will do your duty, Teagan.”
 
“You will not speak of her that way, not after everything she did for you. You had no right to do this to me. I’ve always done whatever you asked of me, Eamon, but don’t ask me to do this. I won’t treat her like that. She deserves better!”
 
“This woman isn’t family, Teagan. She can never be family, so don’t push this issue. We are your kin.”
 
“Family?!” The word was spoken like a curse. “I see no kin of mine here. We are done, Eamon.”
 
Eamon stood there, his face inscrutable. Shaking his head in dismay, Teagan strode out of the room, Isolde calling after him.
 
In the hallway, he saw Regina, who stared, white-faced in surprise, at him. In two strides he was in front of her.
 
“Were you part of this?” he demanded.
 
“Part of what? What’s happened, Teagan?” she asked, frowning in consternation.
 
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Never mind. I need some fresh air,” he said.
 
Outside, his head reeled and he was disoriented, looking round him in confusion. I shouldn’t have had so much brandy, he chastised himself. Once the burst of adrenalin charged anger had left him, he felt the full force of his intoxication. He also left Muffin upstairs in his room. Neria would be so angry with him for leaving her dog. Maker’s breath, she was already angry at him for something that wasn’t his fault.
 
Then Bann Regina was there, holding his arm, and he leaned against her. “I’m sorry, Regina,” he said. “I’m a little intoxicated. Muffin….”
 
“Teagan, how can you think of food in this state?” she admonished.
 
“No, Neria’s mabari, I can’t leave him here. But I have no where to go…”
 
“Come on,” she said, putting his arm across her shoulder and helping him walk. “We will retrieve her dog. The inn is full, but I guess you can stay in my room at the Gnawed Noble.”
 
Teagan wasn’t sure how she did it. Somehow, Regina managed to get him to her room. Muffin placed himself as close as he could to Teagan, regarding the woman curiously. She pulled off Teagan’s boots and tunic and helped him to her bed. He looked at her unsure of what to make of the pretty bann.
 
“So, now do you plan on doing Eamon’s dirty work and seducing me?” he asked.
 
“Don’t be ridiculous. Go to sleep, Teagan,” she said, annoyance tinged with slight amusement in her voice. “Contrary to what you might think, this is not the way I pictured being with you, drunk and idiotically in love with another woman. Not my idea of romantic, even if you are the most charming and eligible bachelor left in Ferelden.”
 
“Maker’s breath,” he groaned. “I have to make this right. What she must think…?”
 
“Well, not tonight, you aren’t. You aren’t in any state to go anywhere. Just go to sleep.”
 
She looked at Muffin, the dog looked at her. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed to a corner of the room. He lowered his head and moved to the position she silently commanded him to take.
 
“Maker have mercy,” she sighed.
 

[sylvanaerie]

A shorter update than usual.  I realize in the game you get other companions but for the purposes of my narrative, I had Neria recruit only Anders and Nathaniel.  I tried to write Nate as a cross between courtly flirtation and big brotherly sweet. I think he's quite the gentleman and worthy of his own fic.


Chapter Ten
 
A lot had happened for Neria in Amaranthine. She had dealt with all challenges that faced her, as Alistair had said she would, but she still felt as if so much more had to be done.
 
Things were starting to settle down again in the arling with both human and darkspawn enemies dealt with. Anders had been asked to go back to the tower and give a lecture on the Architect, though he swore he would be back. Nathaniel was staying with his sister, Delilah, and her husband, Albert. Neria had taken a room at the Crown and Lion Inn trying to decide where next she should go.
 
She desperately wanted to go to Teagan, but in more than two months not one letter had arrived from him. Part of her had no idea what he wanted, part of her was afraid she already knew.
 
She was downstairs in the common room, eating dinner with Nathaniel, who had come over every night the past week. She knew Nathaniel was worried for her. The open hostility that had characterized their first meeting had ended up developing into a warm friendship. Nathaniel, despite a bit of darkness in him, was a decent, noble young man and Neria enjoyed his company.
 
He was joking with her and trying to coax her into eating. Near them, a merchant from Denerim was talking to one of the locals.
 
“…Relief effort. She’s Maker sent, I swear. It’s been good for business, too, transporting all these goods, well, now that the Pilgrim’s Path has opened up again,” he said. “Bann Regina’s a good sort and I heard she was being courted by Bann Teagan. He’s a nice one, too. We need more nobles like them, who remember that nobility has a second meaning.”
 
Neria started to choke, coughing, gasping, Nathaniel slapping her on the back trying to help dislodge the piece of cheese she had been eating. She managed to cough it out and then stood up to confront the merchant.
 
“Please, what did you say about Bann Regina? And Bann Teagan? They’re seeing each other?”
 
“Why should you care, knife-ears?” said the merchant scowling at her.
 
Behind her, Nathaniel didn’t really understand her distress, but he bristled at the racial slur tossed her way. The merchant’s companion put a hand on his friend’s arm and spoke.
 
“That’s the Hero of Ferelden, Jacob. She and the Grey Wardens saved the city.”
 
“Well, pardon me then.” He didn’t sound very contrite, but Neria didn’t care. Her mind was reeling from what he’d said. “Yes, word around Denerim is the pair has been seeing a lot of each other.”
 
She swallowed convulsively, her stomach roiling.
 
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she gasped.

She ran out of the inn and Nathaniel followed her. She leaned over and vomited into the bushes on the side of the building. He pulled her hair back from her face with one hand and held her forehead with the other.
 
After she had composed herself, he offered her a sip from his wineskin and she took a drink, swished it around her mouth and spit it out to get rid of the nasty taste in her mouth, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 
 
“Are you ill, Neria?” Nathaniel asked, brushing her hair back from her face.
 
She shook her head, tears slipping out of her eyes. She leaned her head against Nathaniel’s shoulder and he put his arms around her, patting her back, reassuringly.
 
“Oh, Maker, it’s happened again,” she whispered to herself. “I have to go. I have to go to Denerim. I can’t leave it like this. By the Maker, if he is going to do this to me, he’ll look me in the face and say it. Alistair at least had the courtesy to do it to my face.”
 
“King Alistair? Neria, what’s going on?”
 
“I have to go, now.” She went to the stables and started to put a saddle on Eilir. “I’m going to Denerim. Now.”
 
Nathaniel grabbed her arm.
 
“Don’t be a fool. You can’t go anywhere tonight, let alone Denerim. We’ll need supplies and it’s too late to get any. Come on, let’s get you up to your room and you can fill me in on what’s going on here.

“There are darkspawn still out there, they were routed, but they aren’t gone. The roads, especially at night, aren’t safe still. Besides, I don’t think your head is in the right place to protect yourself out there right now.”
 
Several hours later she was sitting in her room, her head on Nathaniel’s shoulder, spent. She had told him about everything from Cullen to Alistair to Teagan and Nathaniel had quietly listened to it all, or pretended to, and she was grateful to have someone to talk to.
 
“Can I be honest here, Neria?” Nathaniel asked. She nodded. “For starters, you’re not responsible for Cullen. You didn’t cause the revolt that drove him mad. And his fixation on you—that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t encourage him.”
 
She shook her head. “I didn’t encourage him, but I did like him. I just knew it was wrong.”
 
“Alistair was unfortunate. He should have been honest with you so you could have made an informed choice about being with him, but it’s done now. You say you don’t have any more bad feelings?”
 
“No more. We actually had a good laugh the last time I saw him.”
 
“This Teagan sounds like a nice enough fellow from what you say. I don’t know why he hasn’t written you. Perhaps this is a misunderstanding? My advice would be to not go down there, flying at him half cocked without hearing his side of this. Rumors are just that—rumors. They very rarely tell the whole truth. You should’ve heard some of the ones I was getting about you.”
 
“Ten feet tall and shooting lightning from my eyes?” she giggled.
 
He smiled. “Made you laugh, now that’s more like it. Now, if we’re going to travel to Denerim in the morning, I suggest it’s off to bed with you, Commander.”
 
“We? Why would you want to come with me, Nathaniel?”
 
He poked her playfully in the ribs and made her giggle again.
 
“Someone has to have your back, Commander.”
 
“Thanks, Nathaniel, this’s really been eating me up. It’s not the first time I’d heard something like this and it’s been on my mind for a while. Things were so unsettled here and I couldn’t do anything about Denerim. We’ll go tomorrow.”
 
“Neria, you’re a good person. I thought I was going to hate you, but you turned me around, saw something in me I didn’t even see myself. You set me free and allowed me to redeem the name my father dragged through the mud.”
 
“I didn’t do anything, Nathaniel. You’re the one who redeemed your family name. And why bring this up now?”
 
“Well, I just wanted you to know, even if this guy turns out to be a complete ass, you deserve better.”
 
“Like whom?” she asked, skeptically.
 
“Well, for one, Anders has a crush on you. Of course, you’ll have to wait until he finishes puberty. In the meantime, there’s always me.”
 
Shaking her head in mock dismay, she opened her door. “Your rivalry again. I swear I never know when you two are joking or not.”
 
He bent and quickly kissed her cheek before walking out the door.
 
“Good night, Commander,” wafted over his shoulder back to her.
 
With a confused little half-smile on her face, she went to bed.

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 30 août 2010 - 10:30 .

[Sue]

another good chapter... keep them coming....

[Lynn01]

Very nice! I'm really enjoying myself by reading your story :-) Well written!

[sylvanaerie]

This is the final chapter of Crossing Over. The story of Teagan and Neria will conclude with “Homecoming” which has been completed and Lady Damodred has Beta Read it so updates will continue as normal. I hope you will be here for the final chapter in the story! More to come!
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Chapter Eleven
 
They met on the road from Denerim and Amaranthine, almost at the perfect halfway mark between the two cities.
 
Teagan grinned to see she still rode Eilir and she seemed much more at ease in the saddle than she had when she left Denerim. With a stab of jealousy, he frowned at the approaching riders, noting the young man who rode by her side. What was he to her?
 
A thousand thoughts ran through his head. How would he explain what had happened? Was she angry? Sad? Happy to see him? Her expression was inscrutable and he had no clue what lay beneath it. He wanted to tell her everything, make it right between them again and tell her how he felt. Would she listen? Or had she already moved on?
 
He approached her, hopeful, expectant and anxious. She looked so beautiful to him, long red hair in glorious disarray across her shoulders, a look of what he hoped was pleasure at seeing him. Dressed all in gleaming silver chain mail, she looked like some warrior goddess from the bards’ tales.
 
Oh, Maker, please let her understand, he silently prayed.
 
She paused and said something and the young man with her responded.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
When she saw the entourage ahead, Neria thought nothing of it until it got closer and she realized it was Teagan with a company of men bearing unfamiliar colors. There was a woman riding at his side with long, dark hair and rich clothing. She was acutely conscious of how she looked, all dusty and wearing a suit of silverite mail Wade had fashioned especially for her smaller frame. No fine Orlesian silks cloaked her body.
 
“Maker’s breath, it’s her, isn’t it?” she said. “She’s gorgeous. Oh, Nathaniel I can’t do this!”
 
Nathaniel looked at the approaching company and saw the object of Neria’s concern.
 
“Are you kidding? I bet she can’t even shoot lightning bolts out of her eyes. Just go talk to him. Let him explain.”
 
“You’ll stay with me, right?”
 
“I’ll always have your back, Commander.”
 
Her eyes drank in the sight of him as she walked toward him. Maker’s breath, he was so handsome and there was that look of desire in his eyes when he gazed at her that pulled her to him. She wanted to run and throw herself in his arms but was afraid. All her old fears and doubts rose up again.
 
Her eyes flickered to the woman with him, perfect hair, flawless skin and rich attire, and again, keenly, she felt the disappointment of comparing herself to this woman.
 
And then they were standing before each other.
 
He seemed to want to say something, but then frowned. Started and stopped himself again. She felt trepidation rise, fearful that this was it. She clenched her hands into fists trying not to give in to her riotous emotions.
 
“Just say it, Teagan,” she managed to choke past the lump in her throat.
 
Maker’s breath, she wasn’t going to cry this time. She would curse them all to the Black City, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of crying.
 
Wordlessly he dug into his pocket and removed a carefully preserved fragment of paper.
 
She frowned at the burnt piece of paper, and then recognition lit her face.
 
“Isolde and Eamon burned our letters,” he said. “I received none from you. I’m assuming none of mine reached you?”
 
She shook her head, a bewildering rush of hurt, betrayal, loneliness and sadness raced across her features.
 
“Maker’s breath!” he sighed. “What you must have thought of me. Oh, Neria, I’m so sorry. More than words can express, I am sorry. I wrote you every week, even if there was nothing going on, I still wrote you and I missed you. Please forgive me—I never forgot you and I never stopped wanting you with me.”
 
Her head was reeling with his revelations, and she was fighting tears. He hadn’t forgotten her? He still wanted her? And Andraste’s tears, he wanted her forgiveness? With a sob, she threw herself into his arms and then began to cry with joy as his arms enfolded her and held her to him.
 
“Teagan, there’s nothing to forgive. I love you so much! I was so afraid you were going to tell me it was over.”
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
He kissed her throat, her cheeks, and her lips. He was so relieved and so happy to have her close again.
 
“Don’t cry, darling,” he whispered. “Please don’t cry. I won’t let you go. Not ever. Please don’t cry.”
 
“I’m just so happy I can’t help it,” she sobbed.
 
He bent close to her delicately tapering ear and whispered in it.
 
“I love you, Neria.” She pulled back to look at him, hope brimming her eyes and he smiled. “I love you my funny, freckled, silly and wise little mage. I love your courage and your strength and your glorious heart.”
 
“Oh, Teagan, I love you. I love you so much!”
 
Nearby Regina and Nathaniel stood watching the lovers’ reunion and she smiled pensively.
 
“I thought my competition was little ‘Arlessa Mouse.’” She scoffed. “All along, neither of us stood a chance. His heart always belonged to the Hero of Ferelden. What woman can compete with that?”
 
“She is a tough act to follow,” Nathaniel grinned.
 
Teagan kissed Neria again, not caring who saw, and claimed her for his own.

[Sue]

Happy, Happy together again.... looking forward to the Homecoming. Marvelous writing/chapter as always.

[sylvanaerie]

And "Homecoming", the final part of the story begins.  Some slight sexytimes to follow so (nothing too graphic) but if that's not your cup of tea, you have been warned.

Homecoming


Chapter One
 
After two months of separation, sitting next to Teagan and holding his hand felt really good to Neria. They were camping beside the road between the arling and Denerim known as the Pilgrim’s Path. Full tummies and a couple of warm pints of ale for everyone not on watch made the odd mixture of nobles, soldiers and Grey Wardens comfortable and amiable with each other.
 
The only greeting she had experienced without any conflicting emotions marring it was that from Muffin, her mabari. The kennel master could barely contain him and finally gave up when Muffin saw Neria. Happily he ran to her, and jumped on her, placing his huge paws on her shoulders, his big tongue licking away her tears of happiness. Now Muffin lay as close as he could to his mistress, one paw on her foot.
 
The huge, colorful pavilion behind them seemed spacious to Neria, especially after spending the entirety of the Blight in small camps pitched where they found space to do so. To Neria, it seemed almost as if the woman carried the comforts of a palace with her wherever she went.
 
“So you were really coming all the way to Amaranthine for me?” Neria asked Teagan.
 
“I was. Bann Regina’s brother, Evan is a templar in the chantry there. She’s been worried and she seeks word on him. We also want to get some casualty lists to take back to Denerim to families. And we’re going to distribute goods if people need them. I imagine with an actual darkspawn threat up here, they’re needed?”
 
“Evan, young man in his early twenties, dark hair, green eyes?” Neria asked.
 
“Yes, have you any news of him?” Regina asked.
 
“He’s fine. Most of the people took shelter in the chantry when the darkspawn attacked the city. He helped defend the civilians and fought off a number of the horde.”
 
Giggling, relief flooding her face, Regina wiped a tear from her eye. “That definitely sounds like Evan. Thank you for this news, I’ve been so worried. I have to go see him.”
 
“As for the goods you bring, we definitely need them. With the recent stranglehold lifted off the trade routes, things have eased up some, but there are far too many still starving. And I’ll have to see what can be done about Vigil’s keep.”
 
“I’ll help, Neria. Drew can watch over Rainesfere for a little while.”
 
“Well, that’s for later. As for me, I’m worn out for the night. I’m off to bed.”
 
Neria rose and stretched, feeling happier than she had in months. Moving behind him, she wrapped her arms around Teagan’s neck and leaned down to whisper in his ear.
 
“I’ll be in our bedroll…don’t keep me waiting. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” Then she let her warm breath feather over his ear.
 
Rising and stretching, he took her hand, affected a theatrical yawn and grinned. “Well, I’m just completely tired out, too. Good night, Regina, Nathaniel.”
 
“Yes, well, Commander, don’t be so ‘tired’ you keep me up half the damn night from the noise of your ‘sleeping,’” Nathaniel called after them.
 
She giggled, tipsy, but she was so happy it wouldn’t have mattered. Just being with Teagan again was enough to make her drunk with joy. They walked side by side, his arm around her waist, steadying her.
 
He led the way to the area partitioned off for them and pulled back the thick curtain to let her step inside, then let it drop behind them. The darkness around them was nearly complete. Within the small space she felt cozy and warm, as if they were the only two in camp. The thick curtains should afford them some privacy as long as they were quiet. 
 
“Wait,” she whispered, putting a hand on his chest. “Is there a lamp? I’ve wanted to see you so much I don’t want to miss a moment with you.”
 
“Lamp…yes?” She heard him moving around in the small space and retrieving something, then bringing it to her.
 
She whispered the word of power and a light glow emanated from the lamp as the wick caught flame. In the glow, she saw his face lit up, the angular planes shadowed, the eyes bright with an almost childlike wonder. Her magic was always a source of mystery and awe to him. He was the first mundane she had met who wasn’t afraid of her gift.
 
“There, that’s better,” she whispered, her palm cupping his cheek. “I’ve missed this face.”
 
Hanging the lamp from a hook above them, he turned to face her.
 
She unbuttoned his tunic and slipped her hands inside, running her fingers along his skin, reveling in the feel of him under her hands. Leaning in, she kissed his chest, teasing him with her tongue. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him just over his Adam’s apple the way she had in his dream. His arms went around her and then fell to his sides in disappointment.
 
“I can’t feel you through this armor,” he sighed.
 
“We’ll just have to remedy that then,” she said.
 
She started unbuckling the mail tunic, but he put his hands over hers. Puzzled, she looked at him.
 
“Let me,” he said. Smiling, he began undoing the fastenings. “I’ve never seen such beautiful armor before. Or perhaps it’s the woman wearing it who makes it so.”
 
Pleased at the compliment, she couldn’t help blushing.
 
She lifted her arms so he could pull the chainmail tunic over her head. He hefted it, obviously impressed with the quality, and then placed it on a stool nearby.
 
He ran his fingers along the skin of her throat and over the collar bone, touching the little pendant that dangled into her cleavage. Looking into eyes that were a deep blue in the light of the lamp, she knew, from the look in them, thoughts of armor were already flittering out of his head. He pushed back the cloth of her leather padding and bared her skin to him.
 
“Maker’s breath,” he whispered, looking at her.
 
She shivered a little and pulled her arms up—afraid it was her scars he looked at. Then he took her hands in his and pulled them away and shook his head at her. He kissed the fingers curled around his hands.
 
“Don’t,” he pleaded. “I’ve missed looking at you, too.”
 
Letting go of her hands to reach out to her, he touched her soft skin. His fingers traced the scar of the injury that had brought them closer. Only a small line remained now to remind them of those frightening hours before the healer came. He kissed it, his lips moving to the peak of one breast, pulling the nipple into his mouth and brushing his tongue along it. Gasping softly in response, her arms went around him, her body arching into his touch.
 
He kissed her tummy, his fingers caressed her sides, tickling her and making her shiver in delight. She felt his hands come to the buckle of the belt holding her trousers up and loosed that, tugging them down over her hips, his hands caressing her curving, tight little buttocks.

“Teagan, wait…let me sit down,” she gasped.
 
She settled down on the bedroll and he pulled off her boots, and then eased her pants off as well. His own garments fell beside hers on the floor and then he joined her on their bedding, his long body covering hers.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
The sunlight peeking in through the seam of the tent crossed Teagan’s eyes and woke him early. He looked over at the woman beside him and smiled, remembering their reunion. Their bodies were still entwined from lovemaking most of the night. He had gotten little sleep before dawn came, but Teagan didn’t mind.
 
He bent to the soft curve of her throat and placed a kiss there, nuzzling her skin and kissing his way to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. Giggling sleepily, she put her arm around him to snuggle him close to her, her leg wrapping around his.
 
Brushing her cheek with his fingers, he marveled again at how smooth and soft her skin was. He smiled and kissed her hooded eyes, the tip of her nose.
 
“Good morning, love,” he whispered in her ear.
 
“Mmm, morning, love,” she murmured in response.
 
Though she didn’t open her eyes, she did smile sleepily when he kissed her full lips.
 
She loved him. Teagan couldn’t remember when he had been this happy. Days ago he had set out, miserable and worried and today everything was different.
 
He heard the sounds around them as the camp began to wake up and contemplated waking the woman in his arms for one last tumble before starting their day. Then, he decided against it, kissing her cheek and slipping out of her embrace to sit up.
 
“We have a lot to do, love,” he said, quietly.
 
“Mmm, not right now, we don’t,” she countered, pulling at his arm.
 
He chuckled. “Are you trying to entice me back to bed, little minx?”
 
“Maybe. I don’t want to get up just yet. It felt good lying beside you again.”
 
Yawning, she sat up finally and laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, stroking under her arm. It did feel good having her close to him again.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
They approached Vigil’s Keep. The walls were a shambles, but there were places where they had actually held. Granite was tough stone and the keep had been reinforced with dwarven skill.
 
There were survivors here and the slow process of reorganizing had already begun. Varel had died in the siege. Captain Garevel had survived, as he had been in Amaranthine, defending the city when the keep was attacked and would be taking over as seneschal for the Wardens. 
 
Though the invaders had broached the walls, they had been driven back and completely routed. And though there were skirmishes with stragglers, it was mostly peaceful in Amaranthine now.
 
The long, slow process of rebuilding could begin again.
 
As the only other Grey Warden in Amaranthine at the moment, Nathaniel accompanied Bann Regina and her escort on to the city. Neria remained with Teagan at the keep.
 
Wade and Herron were still alive, and ready to help repair and equip those soldiers left alive.
 
Neria was glad to see Alec, a sheepherder who’d been caught for theft, alive still. She had conscripted him to the army and allowed him to pay back his debt in service to the Crown. He had acquitted himself bravely during the battle and won a knight’s title for himself.
 
In the next five months, the keep slowly began to show improvement.
 
Teagan proved invaluable to her, as Neria had little expertise in the running of a keep. He organized reconstruction efforts and prepared Vigil’s keep for the day it would be a fully functional keep again. Going over the household accounts with Mistress Woolsey, he organized funds and distributed goods to the troops and neighboring farms.
 
For her part, Neria focused on security, ensuring the keep was brought back up to fighting standards, keeping the darkspawn at bay and organizing the other Grey Wardens. Anders returned from the Circle of Magi, Nathaniel from Amaranthine and a dozen young recruits volunteered, fresh and eager to engage the enemy.
 
As Warden-Commander, Neria was considered the Arlessa of Amaranthine and as such, when the after harvest Landsmeet drew near, she prepared for the journey to Denerim. The afternoon before she was to go, a messenger arrived with a letter from Weisshaupt.
 
She was released from her duties as Warden-Commander.
 
“What does this mean, Neria?” Teagan asked, when she told him.
 
“It means that for now, according to this letter, Nathaniel is in charge. I guess maybe they rethought putting an elven mage in a position of power over man.”
 
“I know you really enjoyed being Warden-Commander, Neria. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
 
She shook her head. “I’ll look on this as an extended vacation—maybe even an early retirement. We can go to Denerim for the Landsmeet, and then back to Rainesfere?”
 
Smiling, he moved to hold her. “I’ve missed home. Wherever you’re happy, love, I’m happy.”

[sylvanaerie]

Chapter Two
 
When he heard the news, Nathaniel protested. “But, Commander, you’re the Commander, not I.” It was almost a plea.
 
“Oh, hush, Nathaniel, you’ll be just fine in the job. The First Warden thinks that perhaps by putting a nobleman in the position, it may stabilize things in the arling. It was too much to ask, I think, to expect the nobles to accept me as Arlessa of Amaranthine even if I am the one who ended the Blight. Teagan and I will be going with you to Denerim for the Landsmeet so you won’t be alone.”
 
“It’s not going to be easy. My father angered a lot of people, not just the Couslands.”
 
“I won’t lie to you, it won’t be easy. But people will learn that you aren’t your father, though you’ll probably have to prove that more than once.” She looked at Teagan who nodded slightly. “You’ll have Teagan and me….”
 
Bann Regina, who had remained in Amaranthine to be close to her brother, also stepped forward, and tucked her hand in Nathaniel’s arm. That she stayed for more than just familial reasons was evident to Neria from the way she’d been looking at him.
 
“And you’ll have me,” she affirmed. “And when people get to know you, you’ll have other supporters.”
 
“Alistair is a fair man. He killed Loghain, but he didn’t visit his outrage on Anora. He won’t punish you for the sins of your father.”
 
Anders looked up from dangling a string in front of Ser Pounce-a-Lot and frowned.
 
“What, he’s going to be in charge now? Oh, Maker, now I’ll have to stare at his arse everywhere we go! Can’t you…protest? Rebel? Make picket signs? Something?”
 
“You and your jokes….” Neria replied, frowning.
 
“He’s not joking this time,” said Nathaniel. “I don’t want this position. And he does stare at your arse.”
 
“Wha…what?” she gasped, her jaw dropping in disbelief. 
 
“What? Well, it’s a lot more pleasant staring at yours than his!” Anders said, defensively.
 
Then he swallowed and made a dash for the door, followed by the outraged Hero of Ferelden.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Bann Regina’s estate in Denerim had been restored at last and Teagan was glad to have someplace besides Eamon’s estate or the inn to stay in. The rage that had consumed him at Eamon’s betrayal was still as hot as it had been the day he had learned of it and he had no eagerness to confront his brother.
 
Sorting through her mail, Regina found several invites to salons next week and clucked her tongue in dismay. 
 
“And me with nothing to wear but last year’s fashions,” she sighed. “Well, that simply won’t do. Come, Neria we must get you some things for the season as well.”
 
He wasn’t sure she really cared from the frown she leveled on the woman. Her attire usually consisted of a tunic and trousers, mage robes and, of late, the armor Wade had made for her. Teagan knew such things suited his lover, but for the noblewoman who was their host, such practicality was unthinkable. Even if it was frivolous, Regina took her role as trendsetter seriously. Since she was one of the richest banns in Ferelden, she could afford to pamper herself.
 
“You have a pretty figure,” said Regina, assessing Neria as if she were inspecting a racehorse. “Good bone structure, nice coloring, I love your eyes. Oh, Teagan, I see now why you fell so hard for this one.”
 
From the expression on Neria’s face, Teagan felt the time to intervene had come. He walked over and put his arms around her, holding her hands down at her sides and nuzzled the back of her ear.
 
“And very happy I am to have fallen under her spell,” he murmured. Then, softly in her ear, “Bear with her, love. She means well and she’s smarter than that superficial attitude would convey. Let her guide you. She’s a powerful woman to have on your side in Denerim.”
 
“All right, Teagan, I’ll trust her for your sake, but I swear if she tries to put a feed bag on me and put me ‘out to pasture’ I’ll melt her face off.”
 
She disengaged herself from Teagan’s arms and regarded her hostess. “Where do we go? I’ve never been anywhere that makes clothes. Unless, you count the mage robes you can buy in the Wonders of Thedas shop.”
 
“Go? Oh, no, no, no! They come to me!” She giggled. 
 
Nathaniel leaned over to him and whispered in Teagan’s ear. “We’d best get out of here. I remember when my mother would do this. It’s best to just stay out of their way.”
 
Watching Regina lead his lover off to one of the other rooms, Teagan shrugged.
 
“I think they kind of forgot us anyway,” he said.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
At the Gnawed Noble, they found most of the tables in the front room were occupied. Loren and his crowd were dominating two tables and harassing the staff. Arl Bryland and Bann Alfstanna, as inseparable as always, were at their usual table on the back wall. Bryland’s teenage daughter sat next to her father looking as bored as she could possibly be. 
 
Bann Sighard was talking with Bann Ceorlic and a couple of the older banns at another table. He was regaling anyone who would listen about his new grandbabies’ latest achievements as if no other babies before them had ever done the same. Most of those present were letting him get away with it, shooting smiles of amused indulgence at the doting grandfather behind his back.
 
There were tables in the back room where the mercenaries usually hung out and Teagan saw something he never expected. Sitting, arm in arm with some of the rougher men in here, drinking a tankard of ale and singing off key and as loudly as they, was Alistair. He was dressed in a simple homespun tunic and trousers and a grey cloak, but it was definitely the king.
 
Three palace guards stood nearby, two with stoic faces trying not to break discipline. The third, an older gentleman was trying to convince the tipsy king to stop drinking and leave the tavern.
 
Alistair spotted Teagan and grinned boyishly, standing and walking not too steadily toward them. 


“Bann Teagan! Maker’s breath! It’s good to see you. Maybe that ole stick in the mud, Eamon, will perk up a bit now that you’re here. How have you been?”
 
Assailed by the strong odor of ale wafting from the young man, Teagan turned his head. It was evident he had been here a while, drinking. Teagan pulled him to a table and set him down.
 
“Alistair, what have you been doing this morning?” Teagan asked.
 
“Celebrating,” he replied, blithely. He called for a couple of mugs for the two men with him.
 
“Celebrating what?”
 
“Who told you? It’s a secret…” his voice dropped to a whisper.   He looked at Nathaniel. “I know you, don’t I?   You look familiar.”
 
“I’m Nathaniel Howe, the Warden-Commander of Amaranthine,” he replied.
 
“Funny, you don’t look like Neria. Teagan, what happened to Neria?” Alistair asked. “I told you after they made me king that I couldn’t look out for her anymore. That’s why I asked you to. Why weren’t you looking out for her?”
 
“Alistair, she’s fine,” Teagan sighed.
 
The finger directed his way caused Nathaniel to raise a brow.
 
“No, she’s not. Look at her, she looks terrible.”
 
“What is he talking about? You were supposed to look after Neria? What does he mean?”
 
“Nothing, just…we have to get him out of here,” Teagan dismissed the question.
 
“I would agree,” affirmed one of the guards.
 
“Well, we can’t take him through the streets of Denerim in this state,” said Nathaniel. “The palace is too far away. The rooms here are all booked up. We’ll have to chance getting him to Regina’s. It’s not far from the marketplace.”
 
“This Regina…who is this?” asked the older guard.
 
“Bann Regina of Southern Plains,” Teagan replied. “She’s discreet. It’s where we’ve been staying.”
 
“I guess it will have to do,” the guard acquiesced.
 
As they stood, some of the men nearby were reluctant to part with their generous drinking buddy and accosted them.
 
“He’s an all right sort. A little mopey, but he likes to pay,” said one particularly nasty looking bruiser.
 
“Can’t sing worth a damn though,” piped up another.
 
Nathaniel grabbed a pouch from Alistair’s waist and tossed it onto the table.
 
“Here, drink yourself into the next Blight,” he said.  Then, at Teagan’s raised brow he shrugged. “He won’t miss it.”
 
“Is there a back way out of here?” Teagan asked.
 
“I…umm…know of a back door, this way,” said one of the other guards with a sheepish expression. 
 
Somehow, they got the drunk, stumbling and loudly singing young king to his feet and managed to get him out of the inn and down through the side streets to Regina’s estate.
 
They were accosted by Regina when they returned to her estate and Neria became alarmed at Alistair’s condition.
 
“I’m sorry, ‘Gina,” Nathaniel apologized. “It’s the only thing I could think of. We couldn’t take him through the streets of Denerim in this state. I don’t think anyone at the tavern recognized him.”
 
“All right, let’s get him upstairs so he can sleep it off,” she sighed. 
 
“Alistair, are you alright?” Neria asked, distressed.
 
“I’m not so very drunk, Neria.” He looked at Neria then back at Nathaniel then back to the elf again.   “I think I’m going to be sick.”
 
“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened,” said Nathaniel. “Let’s get him upstairs and see if we can’t find a basin for His Majesty to throw up in.”
 
They wrestled him out of his clothing and put one of Regina’s former husband’s night shirts on him. Then he proceeded to get sick in a hastily brought basin. That seemed to sober him up a little though he was still very drunk.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Feeling completely helpless in the situation, Neria stood nearby watching Alistair. She wasn’t unfamiliar with drunks, as some of the tranquil were quite good at brewing up various fermented drinks, but she had never seen Alistair like this and it was distressing her. 
 
“All of you, get out,” commanded Alistair. “Except Neria. We have to talk.”
 
Teagan frowned and took her hand. She kissed his cheek.  
 
“It’ll be all right, Teagan. I want to hear what he has to say.”
 
The younger guards left the room to take up posts just outside the door, the older refused to budge. Alistair frowned at him, saw the man adopt a military demeanor and then shrugged. He motioned to Neria to join him and patted the side of the bed. She sat down looking from him to the guard and back. Alistair waved his hand, dismissively.
 
“Don’t mind him, that’s just my shadow. I can’t use the privy without him standing guard outside.” Giggling, she swore the man’s discipline broke enough for his eyes to convey disapproval. “First of all, I’m sorry for you having to see me like this.” She started to say something, but he shushed her. “I’m sorry for how things ended. I was an idiot and I didn’t handle it very well. I hurt you and I’m so sorry for that.”
 
“Alistair, that was months ago. We made the choice together to put you on the throne.”
 
“I know. I have no one to blame but myself for how things turned out.” He looked at her, his hazel eyes filled with sorrow and the little remnants of their love. “Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful. I could have been a selfish bastard and kept you. It would have killed you little by little, but I could have kept you had I fought for you. You’re worth fighting for.
 
“And that would mean hurting her now. I can’t hurt anyone else like that again, Neria. I won’t.” Tears slipped out of his eyes and he rubbed them away with the back of his hand. 
 
His words were a balm to her spirit and something she had needed to hear for a long time now. Pity touched her heart and she patted the hand he clenched in the blanket, reassuringly. Burying his face in his hands, she ended up supporting his head on her shoulder, hugging him while he cried.
 
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “I knew you didn’t want this and I should have stayed here and helped you, but I was selfish. I had to get away from you so I could heal.”
 
“When you went away with Teagan I thought you had left my life for good. Then you came back this spring and I saw you really cared for each other. I always kind of suspected something was there. And I knew I’d lost you.
 
“That really hurt. A lot. I still loved you, but you didn’t love me anymore. But I was glad, too, because we could be friends again. I lost my best friend when you walked out that door and I think that hurt the most.”
 
“Alistair, you’re drunk, you need to sleep this off,” she said.
 
“No, Neria, please, listen to me. I’m not as drunk as you think I am. Well, I am, but…I can still think straight.” He sat up and collected himself. “I wanted to tell you this before you heard it from someone else.
 
“Eamon has been pushing for an alliance with Orlais. He wants me to marry a woman from the court there that I don’t know.”
 
“Are you really going to do that?” she asked, surprised.
 
“No. Andraste’s ass, no!” he exclaimed, vehemently.
 
“Then, what’s the pro…Oh, I see…. You’ve met someone?”
 
“Edwina, Arlessa of West Hills. She’s strong and brave and so beautiful. She has a good heart and I love her. She isn’t you, there will never be another you in my life, but I love her in a different way. I want to marry her, but Eamon is making things difficult.”
 
“Does she make you happy?” Neria asked.
 
“Yes. For the first time since we ended, I’ve been happy.”
 
The news both elated and saddened her. She was happy Alistair had found someone he could care for as much as she did Teagan, but a small part of her was sad he was finally moving on. They would always have their bond, but she felt the distance growing between them now.
 
“You’re the king, Alistair. You can do whatever you want, marry whomever you want. Tell Eamon to get his arse back to Redcliffe. It’s past time he should go attend to Guerrin business and leave running the country to you. From what Teagan tells me, you did a fine job at the last Landsmeet.”
 
“That simple, eh?” he said.
 
“That simple. Eamon put you in this position and now it’s time you show him he can’t bully you anymore. Stand up for yourself and for Edwina. I know if you love her, she has to be a good person. Is she worth fighting for?”
 
“Yes.”
 
Tears stung the back of her eyes and made her throat fill. She swallowed and moved past it. He would only be distressed by her tears and misinterpret the feelings she was having. Part of her was glad he had let her go, to find something special with Teagan. Part of her wanted to slap him for not having the courage to fight for her. And also there was the realization that she had just let him end it, too, so she was as responsible as he was. 
 
“Then you have to fight for her.”
 
“Will you stay in Denerim for a while, Neria?” He held her hand, as his eyes pleaded earnestly with her.
 
“Maker’s breath, Alistair! The ‘puppy dog look?’ You know I can’t say ‘no’ to the puppy dog eyes, damn you.”
 
He grinned. “So, you’ll stay?”
 
She sighed. “I’ll stay.”
 
He hugged her then and she shoved him down to the bed. Drunk as he was, he couldn’t put up much resistance even though he was a lot stronger than she was. 
 
“Neria, I’m glad you’re okay. He really makes you happy, doesn’t he?”
 
“He really does.”
 
Sighing softly and slipping into sleep, he murmured, “I’m glad I told him to look after you.”
 
She blinked. What? A sick feeling gripped her in the pit of her stomach and she backed out of the room. Opening the door, she saw Teagan leaning against the opposite wall watching her.   His expression went from neutral to worried upon sight of her.
 
“He told you.” It wasn’t a question.
 
“He told me. Teagan, how much of what you said and did was you? Or were you just doing damage control for Alistair?”
 
“No, Neria, it was never like that. Come on, let’s go to our room and talk about this.”
 
“Don’t think you’re going to sweet talk yourself out of this one, Bann Teagan.”
 
“Please.” He took her arm, gently guiding her to their room.
 
Once in the privacy of their room, she strode over to the window, not looking at him. Maker’s breath, she wouldn’t be able to hold to her anger if she looked at him and they needed this out in the open.
 
“So, I’m a charity case, am I? What did Alistair expect me to do? Go to Orzammar and the Deep Roads because he dumped me? I loved him, but he isn’t worth dying over, not like that. If I wanted to die I would have let the archdemon take me.”
 
“What?”
 
She bit her bottom lip, glad he couldn’t see her face. She hadn’t intended to say that. That was a definite no-no for discussion. 
 
“Nothing. I was fine, Teagan. You could have handled that all by yourself. In fact, you did handle it all by yourself! Why did you take me with you? ‘Oh, poor little elf can’t handle the big, bad life?’”
 
“It was never like that! I did it because when Alistair told me to look after you, I wanted to do it. I jumped at the chance, in fact. I was worried about you, too. I’ve always admired you, Neria, but you were so caught up in him that I didn’t stand a chance.” He sighed. “I may have lied about the reasons I wanted you to come with me, but I’ve never lied to you about what I feel for you.
 
“It may have started out that way, but that’s not how it is now. I love you, Neria. Please, doubt anything you want about me, but don’t doubt that.”
 
“I know, Teagan, and I love you, too. I don’t doubt that. Regardless of how this started, I am happy with you. I think happier than I’ve been in my whole life. I just want us to be honest with each other. Please, no more secrets, all right?”
 
Even as she said it, she knew she was being a hypocrite. There were things about the Grey Wardens she felt she couldn’t tell anyone and the opportunity to discuss them with Teagan hadn’t shown itself yet. She hoped soon she could be as honest with him.
 
He spoke again. “All right. I wasn’t going to tell you this because I didn’t want to upset you. Last spring when I found out about Eamon burning our letters to keep us apart, I cut him from my life, Neria. That’s why I won’t go stay at the Guerrin estate here and why I won’t go back to Redcliffe.”
 
She did turn now and look at Teagan. He was obviously distressed by the breach between him and his brother, but there was a line of determination there, too. 
 
“I won’t give you up, Neria, not even for Eamon,” he vowed. 
 
The implication of his words struck her. Teagan was fighting for her, fighting his own kin to keep her. She had known there was something different about him when he’d come to her in Amaranthine, but she didn’t realize the extent of what had happened.
 
Fighting tears, she stepped over to him and put her arms around his waist, holding him.
 
“Teagan, thank you,” she whispered. 
 
Sighing softly, he kissed the top of her head and laid his chin there, holding her to him. Neria had never felt so safe, loved and cared for in her entire life.

[Liliandra Nadiar]

The finger directed his way caused Nathaniel to raise a brow.



“No, she’s not. Look at her, she looks terrible.”

*giggles madly* Oh that line was awesome! Great chapter, good capture on Neria's feelings on Alistair's and Teagan's feelings and actions to her.

[sylvanaerie]

I can't stand Vaughan.  He's such a jerkass and my PCs who don't need his vote leave him to suffer in his cell.  I don't kill him, that would be a mercy at that point.


Chapter Three
 
The parties were a lot less lavish than usual.  The sharing of resources had tapped many of excess they may have had for such things, but they still gathered for a social and political whirl. 
 
The tailors hired by Bann Regina worked their magic and Neria had several new dresses ready by the time they would be attending parties. The young woman had never had so many clothes before. Regina was helping Neria pick out jewelry from her collection to wear.
 
“I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss over me,” said Neria, who had grown to like the woman. “I was prepared to hate you when I heard about you, but you’re really nice when you let down your guard.”
 
“Well, don’t go spreading that around, you’ll ruin my reputation. And besides, I never had any little sisters—only my brother—so I never got to do this. I don’t have many lady friends. In fact, I have none. It’s kind of nice to have someone to fuss over and talk to.”
 
The ladies finished their preparations and joined Teagan and Nathaniel downstairs for their outing. 
 
“You look lovely, Neria,” whispered Teagan in her ear. 
 
He seemed on edge to her. “You’re worried about running into Eamon, aren’t you?”
 
“Yes, but it’s up to Eamon to apologize. I won’t back down,” Teagan said.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
It was, for the most part, a subdued party. Most of the issues with the bannorn had been resolved at the earlier Landsmeet. Autumn was just to reconnect, work out problems that arose over the policies of the previous season and prepare for the following year as winter was unfeasible to hold meetings of the nobility.
 
Eamon was present, but when he saw Teagan with Neria, he turned his back and wouldn’t make eye contact with his brother. Neria saw a flash of pain on Teagan’s face before his face hardened. He turned to his lover and patted her hand reassuringly.
 
Looking around, she didn’t recognize most people present. They hadn’t been at the fateful Landsmeet that had put Alistair on the throne. Regina grabbed Neria’s arm and smiled at Teagan, pulling her away.
 
“Girl talk, Teagan. Go mingle and have fun. I’ll see she gets introduced properly if anyone doesn’t know who she is.”
 
Before he could protest, she swept Neria away into the crowd. 
 
With a sigh, he looked around the room and spotted Edwina nearby. He smiled and went to her, bowing over her hand. 
 
“Good evening, Arlessa Wulff, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he greeted her. 
 
“Bann Teagan, it’s good to see you, too. I see you came with your pretty friend. Neria wasn’t it?”
 
“Yes. I’ll have to introduce you when Regina releases her,” he chuckled. “You’d like her I think, you have much in common.”
 
“I’m sure I would,” Edwina smiled.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
Everyone seemed really nice to Neria and she was having a good time. Regina smoothed over any little social blunders Neria might have made, making the greetings as easy as possible. 
 
After a bit, the social whirl began to get the better of her, forcing Neria to step away, quietly. With Regina nearby no one paid all that much attention to her anyway. She slipped into one of the alcoves for some privacy. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes, seeking a little privacy from the press of the curious. 
 
Nearby, she heard two girls talking.
 
“Can’t believe he brought her,” said the first.
 
“Dressed her up like some kind of lady, as if she could pass for one,” said the second with a giggle.
 
“Bann Regina seems to like her.”
 
“Regina’s always taken in charity cases.”
 
“But a knife-ear? Honestly, why did Bann Teagan have to bring his elven **** here?”
 
“We’d better stop. If she overheard us, she might set us on fire. I hear she’s a mage.”
 
“Well, why isn’t she in the tower? Isn’t that where the Chantry puts them?”
 
“What do you think he sees in her?”
 
“We all know what he sees in her, dummy.”
 
There was a short silence then giggles. Neria felt tears sting her eyes and she ran down the hallway, trying to find an empty room to slip into. Ahead, she heard voices and paused.
 
“Please, my lord,” the first was a woman’s voice.
 
“But it’s a party and I just want to have some fun.” The second voice was a man, cultured, but with a tone of menace to it.
 
The emphasis he placed on ‘fun’ chilled Neria. Obviously, it wouldn’t be much fun for the woman. She followed the voices to a room nearby. There was the sound of a slap and a woman began crying.
 
“Hold her down,” commanded the man.
 
Opening the door, Neria saw three men accosting an elven servant and her self pity evaporated when she saw the bruises on the young woman’s face. Perhaps this didn’t have to get violent if she could be intimidating enough. She leaned against the doorframe and cleared her throat.
 
The man who seemed to be the instigator of this situation turned and looked at her. There was something familiar about him that nagged at her.
 
“Well, now, aren’t you a pretty one? I know you, you’re the little knife-eared wench Bann Regina dressed up like a lady,” he said. “Just wait your turn, I’ll get to you soon enough. Or perhaps you’d care to join in now? I’m sure you’d rather get a real man between your legs instead of that dried up old man you’ve been whoring for.”
 
She frowned. “In your dreams.  I prefer a real man like Teagan, not some little bully boy who likes to pick on someone half his size. Now, how about you let the servant go back to her tasks?”
 
The elven woman seemed a bit battered and frightened, but there were no serious injuries that Neria could see.
 
The nobleman barked a harsh laugh and moved closer to her. Neria shook her head in warning, he was obviously too drunk or just too stupid to know what she was.
 
She flicked open her hand, a ball of electricity forming.
 
“I’d rethink this if I were you, unless you really aren’t that attached to your face,” she warned.
 
“It would seem Bann Teagan’s **** has claws,” said the man. He turned to the servant. “All right, get out of here.”
 
The elven woman looked at her as she slipped out the door.
 
“Thank you,” she said.
 
“Now, see, we’re all friends here.” From his tone, she suspected he was trying to appease her. “No need for further unpleasantness.”
 
“Vaughan, it’s just one mage against us. We can take her,” said one of his cronies.
 
“Don’t be an idiot, she’d fry us before we took two steps,” hissed the leader.
 
“Vaughan, I know you! The Arl of Denerim. Last time I saw you, you were begging to be let out of Howe’s dungeon. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to set you free. And I’m not wasting any more time here.”
 
She shut the door and melted the lock. It would be some time before they would be released, long after she was gone from this place. The insistent pounding from the other side as they realized what she had done only made Neria giggle.
 
“Let me out of here! You elven ****! When I get out I’ll make you pay!”
 
She waved her hand dismissively. “Sleep it off.”
 
The servant stood nearby, tears in her eyes. “Oh, my lady, he’s going to hurt you so bad! He’s always hurt us.”
 
“Hush, hold still and let me take care of those bruises,” she said. The woman was fearful of the blue radiance that Neria summoned and backed up. “No, don’t be afraid I just want to he…”
 
She ran off before Neria could finish the spell.
 
“You little ****! Let me out of here!” Vaughan was yelling behind the door.
 
She walked reluctantly back to the party and looked at everyone. This was Teagan’s world, whether he wanted to be a part of this or not and sadly, she had no place in it. Hero of Ferelden or not she would always be his ‘knife-eared ****’ to these people. And those who didn’t see her as his **** would see her as a free mage. Well, she would be damned if she would let them see her cry.
 
There was an ugly altercation growing as she walked back into the room. Fergus and Michael had arrived and found Nathaniel already there. Of course, Fergus was incensed a Howe still lived and was now Commander of the Grey.
 
“How dare you show your face?!” Fergus snarled. “Are you even aware of what your viper of a father did to my family?! My son?!”
 
For once it seemed, Michael didn’t try to stop his brother. He was angry as well, though he wasn’t as vocal. There was no love lost between the Couslands and the Howes.
 
“I am aware of my father’s crimes,” Nathaniel’s voice was oddly flat. “However I am not my father and I had nothing to do with his actions. He paid for them with his life.”
 
“As well he should have! Men, women and children, all slaughtered like cattle! I only wish I had been there to kill him myself!”
 
People were staring uncomfortably at the scene and Fergus was ignoring the host trying to defuse the situation. Regina stepped up to stand by Nathaniel and leveled a calm gaze on Fergus. Teagan was on his other side.
 
Teagan spoke. “Fergus, you’ve known me all your life. Please trust me when I tell you this. I know Nathaniel. He’s a good man. He’s not the same as his father.”
 
“He saved Amaranthine and my brother when the darkspawn invaded,” Regina added. 
 
Leah stepped forward. “Come, Fergus, let’s go enjoy ourselves. I’m sure Commander Howe has other places he can be.”
 
The teyrna looked pointedly at Nathaniel, who inclined his head toward her. 
 
“Bann Teagan, you must come over to our estate tomorrow afternoon if you aren’t busy. You disappeared out of Denerim so quickly last spring and I would like to catch up on how you’ve been,” Leah said with a smile.
 
Teagan bowed to her. “I’d love to, Teyrna Cousland.”
 
“And please bring your lovely elf friend,” she said, looking pointedly at the crowd around them. A few sheepishly glanced away from her look. “I’d love to meet the Hero of Ferelden.”
 
They stepped away to the other side of the room and Neria joined her friends.
 
“And I was complaining earlier about how boring this party was,” said Regina. “Now I wish it had stayed boring.”
 
Nathaniel patted her hand. “It was bound to happen sooner or later with someone here. Fergus lost a lot thanks to my father. He has every right to be furious.”
 
“Not at you,” Regina pointed out. “You’re not your father and you had nothing to do with that.”
 
Neria smiled encouragingly at Nathaniel. He was one of them, he belonged in this world and eventually the better ones would see him for the noble man he was.
 
                                    *                                  *                                  *
 
“You’ve been very quiet, Neria,” Teagan commented later that night, as they prepared for sleep.
 
“I’m just…tired, Teagan. Did you get to speak to Eamon?”
 
“No, he made a point of ignoring me all night. I don’t think he’s going to back down easily from this.”
 
She couldn’t believe he was that unaware of the situation. She spoke quietly. “Well, Teagan, you know no one will accept me. Not among the nobility.”
 
He walked over to her and took her hand in his. “Is this about Nathaniel or something else? Neria, what happened tonight? Please tell me. You started off having fun, but then about midway through the party you got very quiet.”
 
“I ran into the Arl of Denerim.”
 
“I know of him,” Teagan nodded. “Not well of course, there was always something about him that made me distrust him. Neria, did something happen?”
 
“I found him with a couple of other noblemen. They were trying to…to force an elven servant to…”
 
He swallowed uncomfortably. Had she been attacked?
 
“Neria, just tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?”
 
“No, he never touched me. I think they were afraid of me. Teagan, normal people are afraid of mages, but there’s more. Even if I weren’t a mage, all those nobles saw tonight was you dressing up your ‘elven ****’ and parading her about town.”
 
“Enough of that kind of talk!” he snapped, his voice harsh, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again!”
 
“It’s going to happen, Teagan, we have to face it. Individuals might hold different views. I once knew a woman who thought very poorly of elves and didn’t even see what she was doing—it had become that ingrained to her. All she had ever known in her life was elven servants and what uses they could be put to. Leliana changed, of course, and became a dear friend to me. Regina, Nathaniel and others who take the chance to know me will change their minds, too.
 
“But most of them won’t. This is who I am. I’ve accepted this.” She swallowed and looked at him, hope brimming in her eyes. “Can you accept that?”
 
“I wish you had said something at the party, Neria,” he said. “Remember, no secrets between us? I love you, you’re the one I want to be with and grow old together with. You came in the autumn of my life and brought springtime to me again. There will be no other love for me.”
 
“We can’t ever marry.”
 
He frowned. “I don’t care. I don’t need some slip of paper from the Chantry saying who we are to each other. In my heart, you belong to me and I…hope…you feel the same about me?”
 
That was when she realized that Teagan not only was aware of the situation, but he had given it careful thought and decided his course of action already.
 
Relief flooded her features. “I do, Teagan. All right, if you can do this, I can, too. To the Black City with all of them! I’ll fight for you, Bann Teagan.”

Modifié par sylvanaerie, 08 septembre 2010 - 10:37 .