Teyrn Fergus Cousland was at a total and complete loss, his gaze locked on his sister, his only surviving family member. He understood her grief, her rage, he'd lost as much or more than she had...but he did not understand her brittleness. Leonie was a Cousland, and they were strong. But perhaps that was it, Leonie was a Cousland through her father, just as Fergus was. And Couslands were strong, stoic. But Leonie had always been more like their mother than he was, and the Mac Eanraigs were a wild and fierce bloodline. He just didn't understand how to handle her, Leonie had come home fickle and mercurial, swinging wildly between rages and crying fits.

At first, he'd thought she needed time, and he was wrapped up in his own mourning, coming to grips with the loss of almost everything he knew. And he done it without even the thought of vengeance because Leonie had taken that, and taken it to a level he'd would never even consider. She'd killed the man who'd taken their family away from them. She'd killed that man's ally as well, in front of the Landsmeet. She'd even tried to go after the Queen, but that report was muddled and confused. Why would Leonie unlimber a weapon and go after Anora? And if she had, why had she been left alive and free after it? She seemed to be almost untouchable now, she was more of a threat to herself than anyone else was. And now...he sighed, crumpling up the missive and throwing it into the fireplace in front of him, he had something else to deal with. They needed time, they needed space, they did not need royal visitors, especially royal visitors that his sibling had been willing to attack in the very recent past. "Why would Anora want to come to Highever?" He asked aloud and Leonie paused in the corner, her expressions flowing through a range of emotions before they settled on anger. Yes, and that was the last one he wanted to see catch and stay. Where had his sister gone? He desperately needed her.

"Tell the bitch no and we go on about our business. It's brutally unfair to expect us to host royalty now."

Well, she was right about one thing, it was brutally unfair to expect them to host royalty now. All they'd managed to do so far was bury all of the bodies. Most of their staff were dead or fled.

"We can't do it." It was a sad, sad day when Highever was unable to play host, but it was the bitter truth. No staff. The castle had been brought low, looted, burned. Surely Anora had to know this?

"Of course we can't. Nor should we be expected to. The bitch just comes to gloat." Leonie strode out of the shadow and he sighed. She was so damned thin, her progress haunted by Feef, her mabari hound. "Tell her no, Fergus."

"Leonie, it's not that simple." She should know better. She'd been trained, as he had been, on how to be ruler of Highever. She'd had years of etiquette training, she knew the correct social graces...if he had not been found, she would be Teyrna. She was the daughter of one of the highest noble houses in Ferelden. Until Anora had married the King, she and Leonie had been equals. Leonie could have easily been the one married to Cailan...

"The hell it's not, Fergus. If you won't, then I will write and tell her so. I will not see her. Arrange to meet her elsewhere...plead that we are unable to host her august presence." Bile dripped from the last two words and Fergus sighed. Leonie was correct, in concept. Why was the Queen so intent on traveling here? But it was obvious that his stubborn younger sibling was going to be of no use to him whatsoever.

"I love you, Leonie." He did and she was all he had left. If he could only understand what was going on inside of her, if she'd only open up to him, he could help. But she refused. He recognized rage, he recognized pain. Maker knew he'd experienced all of them and still was... He'd lost his parents. His wife. His only child. He'd fight to keep what little family he had left...Leonie...if she'd only let him. "Lee..."

She turned to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Fergus. You shouldn't be in the middle of this."

In the middle of what? That was the answer he really wanted. He felt like he was trying to repair things with only part of the pieces he needed. What had gone on between Leonie and Anora? Why was this even a situation? "Middle of what, Leonie? I'm going to need to know."

She pushed away from him, moving towards the window and staring out over the shattered castle courtyard. "I...I supported another to the throne. I tried to depose Anora."

Oh, and it just got very, very deep and finally started to make sense. Leonie was a Cousland who had tried to play the game. She'd never shown an interest in it before, but these were turbulent times. Her support could make a world of difference after the King's death and the end of the Theirin bloodline.

"And?" He poured a goblet of wine, tossing it down. He'd prefer something stronger but that meant leaving the room. He wouldn't do that since he finally had Leonie talking.

"The man I supported died at Denerim. It's over. All I want to do now is rebuild, Anora can have her damned throne. I'm done."

"I see." And he did, somewhat. It explained much of Leonie's vile temper, if she'd failed to depose Anora...she would face that every day. It wasn't over. It meant he'd have to do a lot of smoothing over, but he was confident it was possible. As long as the man that Leonie had supported was dead and gone, he could convince Anora that she was no longer a threat. "Don't worry, Lee. I've got this. She won't..."

Leonie laughed outright, shaking her head. "Anora won't come up against me, Fergus. I'm fairly certain she wants to ask for my support now that he's... gone. And you can tell her she won't have it."

"I'll pass on the message." Wonderful. Two teyrns' daughters, locking horns and snorting at each other. Just what Ferelden needed. "And please, Leonie. Eat something." He left her alone in the hall, climbing the stairs to the room which had been his father's office...and was now his. He was the Teyrn now.

He sat in the dimming light, composing a letter to the Queen. Surely she could be made to understand that the castle was not appropriate to receive her, and with that, he could keep a distance between her and Leonie. Time would help this all blow over. If Leonie was willing to enter into self imposed exile for awhile, it was all the better.