So uh, I'm a little tired of all the demonizing done to Rendon. I mean, yeah he was a bastard and killed the Couslands yadda yadda. But what if he was a good father? This is just a campy little feel good thing I wanted to share while I try to kick my brain into writing the stuff I should be writing. And seeing as I'm all together way too fond of Flashbacks... Sorry xD
It was a quiet week in Vigil's Keep. The Darkspawn had yet to make another appearance and Nathaniel Howe felt like he could finally relax and spend some time with his thoughts and his lover. He lifted a tankard of ale to his lips and sipped, trying to rationalize the man he knew as Father to the man who'd destroyed the Couslands out of jealousy.
"What are you thinking of?" Anders plopped down next to him and propped his feet up on a nearby chair.
"Father," was his quiet reply.
"Oh, you would not believe what I heard from the cook today. Seems after your father," he sneered the word, "sent you to the Free Marches he converted your old room to a holding cell for elves he wanted to use as workers."
Nathaniel ground his teeth together. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you talk too much or that you shouldn't repeat gossip, mage?"
"It's far too boring here to do anything but gossip." He grinned. "What's got your nose in a twist? I'm only telling you what they said."
"And I'm telling you that you shouldn't repeat what others say." the rogue set his mug down carefully. "You could offend someone."
"I... you?"
"You were talking about my father."
"But you know what he did! It shouldn't be too much of a shock to hear about anything else he did," Anders scoffed.
"I'm telling you that it is. I still haven't reconciled my memories of him to the horrible things that he did while I was gone." Nathaniel picked his mug back up and took another sip. "To all of you he was an evil bastard that deserved to be killed. To me... he was father. He was the man who took me fishing, camping, and bought my very first bow."
"Oh?" Anders grinned. "Tell me."
"Tell you what, mage?"
"Tell me about your childhood," Anders leaned forward and quirked an eyebrow, "unless you'd rather go do something else."
Nate sighed and gave his love a quick peck on the cheek, "Fine. You want to hear stories that bad; I'll give in. Maybe you can see what I saw in him. He took me on my first trip to Amaranthine when I was about five or six..."
"Papa," Nate sniffled, trying to keep up with his father's long legs. "Papa, don't leave me behind!" He ran until he almost collided with the backs of his papa's knees. He looked up with another sniff at Rendon's smiling face.
"You said you didn't want to be treated like a baby, which means you have to keep up." Then he tapped his finger on his bottom lip. "Though I suppose if you're too tired..."
Little Nate nodded eagerly. "So tired, Papa. I don't mind being carried." He squealed in delight as his father picked him up by his waist and swung him up and over to settle high on his shoulders. Nate looked out at the world with a new perspective. "Hey papa! Can we go to the stables? I want to see the horses, please?"
A laugh rumbled up through him. "Of course we can. Just remember the Knight's horses are much bigger than the ones we have at home. You need to be careful."
"Of course, papa!"
"He took you to see the horses?" Anders asked incredulously.
"Mhmm. That wasn't the only thing we did, but most of our day in Amaranthine consisted of me riding on his shoulders and looking at everything I could get my chubby little hands on."
"What else did he do for you?"
"He used to tell me stories about the Blackmarsh."
"He... what?" Anders raised an eyebrow. "Stories about the Blackmarsh? That's a rather creepy thing to tell your children stories about."
"No creepier than other children's stories and probably no worse than anything you ever heard in the Tower," Nathaniel retorted. "Besides, it's not like he told me the truly scary ones until I was a teenager."
"Well, tell me one."
"Seriously, mage, what is your fascination with this?"
"I don't know anything about your past and I want to know more," Anders huffed.
"By listening to me tell stories? Alright, alright. My father called this one The Deer of Blackmarsh."
A seven-year-old Nate settled down into his bed after receiving a goodnight kiss from his father. "Papa? Would you tell me a story?"
"Aren't you getting a little old for stories?"
Nate shook his head. "I want to hear one about the Blackmarsh."
"The Blackmarsh?" His father turned in the doorway with a puzzled frown.
"Jordan said-"
"Ah. I see. What did Jordan tell you about the Blackmarsh?" Rendon sat down at the foot of his young son's bed.
"He said, he said that it's always been ruled by a demon."
"That's not entirely true. Many years before the demon took over the marsh a young woman lived with her old mother in a hut on the outskirts of the village. Now, this woman was a healer. A mage, some people whispered because her skill with the healing arts was so great. The Bann that looked over the lands and it's people at the time wanted the young woman for his wife, but the mother wouldn't let her go.
"In the early fall after the woman and her mother rejected the proposal of the Bann, the people in town began talking about a large, pure-white deer that was seen roaming the woods near the marsh at night. Some people said it was a Dalish Halla that got loose from its caravan, and other were saying that the Dalish Caravan was actually there, passing through. So, some of the men put together a hunting party to take the beast down and stop the villagers from worrying. None of them returned from the forest, which only went to further cement that there were Dalish moving through.
"The Bann became obsessed with this deer and spent all his waking hours trying to find a way to kill the creature. He devised a trap that, when sprung, would send shards of metal into whatever creature that triggered it. He set it up far enough back in the woods to be encountered, but near enough that he could call for help if things went wrong.
"That night, the white deer appeared and stepped right into his trap, which worked perfectly. As the wounded animal hauled itself through the woods its form blurred and because that of the young woman he had sought. Without any healing ability of his own, she died in his arms. He buried her out there and raised a cairn over her body so he would never forget."
Nate blinked and frowned thoughtfully. "So... you should never try to force an issue to get what you want. With time, patience and respect you can gain whatever you want or need. If he'd waited and courted her properly she never would have died and he could have been happy."
Rendon blinked. "Yes. That's it exactly. When did you get to be so smart?"
Nate beamed when his father ruffled his hair. "Every story you've told me has a lesson about being a good noble. I'm just trying to learn what you're trying to teach me, papa."
"Every story he told you had a lesson?"
"Most of them," Nate nodded.
"That's how the nobles taught their kids their values."
Anders and Nate turned to see their dark-haired Warden Commander standing in the doorway. Jordan Cousland grinned at their surprise. "I remember you telling me that story not too long after that, Nate. When my father tried to tell it to me, he was surprised when I could recite it for him." He stepped into the room and took a seat. "So you're telling stories now, should I go collect the servant's children and give you a new title?"
"Anders just wanted to hear about my past. He wouldn't stop bugging me until I gave in and told him something nice about my father." He smiled fondly over at Anders.
"Ah! Nathaniel! Why don't you tell him about the time you fell in the lake because you got your hook stuck on your clothes?"
"I'd really rather not," Nathaniel said with a pained expression.
"If you don't, I will."
"Torturers. Both of you." the rogue folded his arms over his chest.
"You know you love us." Jordan said with a quick and ready grin.
"Maybe not you."
"You wound me to the core."
"Shut up and let me tell the blasted story. We were thirteen and ten, right Jordan?"
"You wanted to tell the story, not me. Is your old mind so soft and feeble now that you can't remember our ages?"
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes in a look that had Jordan throwing his hands up in surrender, though the other man would not stop grinning. "Anyway, we went fishing at a lake near Amaranthine and because I'd begged father to let me, we brought Jordan along with us."
"Oh no." Jordan moaned, "Not this part. I just wanted you fishing and falling, Nate."
"Too bad. I told you, I'm trying to explain Father to Anders."
"Oh, well then by all means, continue."
Nathaniel walked sedately alongside his father while his best friend Jordan ran ahead squealing like a girl. "Haven't you ever gone fishing before?"
"Nathaniel, be nice." His father said reproachfully.
"Yes, father."
Rendon sighed and crouched down to eye level with his son, "He may be the son of a Teryn, but he's your best friend. You can still call me 'papa' and be young and carefree. No need to act like an old man. You're still a child, there's plenty of time to be a grown-up later."
Nathaniel smiled and hugged his father. "Yes, papa." And then he ran off, chasing Jordan along the road, hiding in the bushes up ahead to scare the younger boy.
"Don't forget the fight," Jordan interrupted.
"I was just getting to that," Nate replied irritably. "We didn't see any of it, but it was five bandits against my father. I don't think I've ever been that scare in my life... But when it was all over he came and got us from the bushes."
"It's alright boys." Rendon Howe wrapped the boys in a hug, and Nate could feel his father shaking just as bad as they were.
"Papa, I want to learn how to fight." Nate whispered into his father's shoulder.
"As soon as we get home. I don't want either of you to be without a way of protecting yourselves." Rendon pulled back and looked at both of them, the fear of almost losing the boys plain in his eyes. "I'll ask your father for permission, Jordan. But I don't think he'll have any problem in letting me teach you how."
"Are ya serious?"
The three men swiveled in their seats. Oghren was leaning in the doorway, a tankard of something in his hand.
"I don't think I ever saw my father that scared again until the day I went off into the Free Marches. Oh, his voice told me he was proud but his eyes told me he was terrified." Nathaniel took a deep drink from his own cup.
"We're talkin' about the same man? The one who set up his bedroom next to the dungeon?" Oghren scoffed and plopped down in a chair.
"Rendon was a fine man and a great father when we were younger. I," Jordan paused and shook his head, "I don't know why he changed so much. I never wanted to kill him. I was so sure it was all a mistake, but..."
"Anyway," Nate interrupted, "after that, we got to the lake and started fishing. My first cast out, I caught my clothes and tumbled into the lake while father and Jordan laughed their arses off at me. We ended up cooking out that night too."
"An your father told us stories about the constellations and the stars." Jordan leaned back in his chair reminiscing.
"And remember when he took us sailing on the waking sea, pretending we were pirates?" Nathaniel laughed.
"Oh, Maker. He kept falling all over himself, making these ridiculous poses. I think my favorite one was him hanging from sail and yelling out 'bring me that horizon' while he pointed at the rocks behind us."
"Remember our fight on who was to be captain?"
"We kept screaming mutiny at each other until your father tied us to opposite end of the boat."
Nathaniel grinned. "Then I got loose, freed you and we mutinied against him."
The two men shared a laugh before lapsing into a comfortable silence.
"I spoke to some of the servants." Jordan said quietly.
"Oh?"
"Yes, apparently they could hear him muttering in his sleep about you after you left for the Marches. He was desperately worried."
Anders, who had remained silent til now spoke up, "Maybe he did what he did for you, Nate. Maybe he was trying to make sure you came back to a better life than the one you left."
Nathaniel sighed. "Maybe. But I would rather have had my father and our friends."
"Well look on the bright side," Oghren started, "you never would have met Sparklefingers if your daddy hadn't done what he did."
Nathaniel smiled and pulled Anders into his arms for a hug. "You're right. And I don't think I would change anything. Everything turned out alright."
"Hah." Jordan laughed. "No regrets, aye?"
"Aye. No regrets."