On a dark summer night in Highever, all that could be heard was the tittering and spitting of the embers of a dying fire. Of course, there were more distant noises, such as the hootings of a barn owl and the cheering from the local tavern, but the fire was the nearest noise that I, Aedan Cousland, could hear.

I slowly awoke from my restful slumber, feeling too sloppy to rise from my bed, like I always did when I hadn't had enough sleep. I curled back deeper into my pillow, relishing in the warmth the bed gave me as I tried, in vain, to get back to sleep. Usually, I could easily fall asleep with the quiet commotion coming through my window as I was so used to the noises, but no matter how hard I tried to return to the land of sleep, I just couldn't. It was when I finally gave up on sleep that I registered another sound coming from inside my bedroom.

Lifting my head off of my pillow, my brown, saggy fair falling into my green eyes as I squinted over to the door, light streaming through the crack at the bottom. My Mabari War Hound, who was usually sleeping soundly in front of the fire place, was stood at attention in front of the door, his eyes glued to the wooden frame as he growled deeply and took a threatening stance.

"Max?" I called groggily to the Mabari, who did nothing to move from his space in front of the door. I called to my dog again, getting the same lack of attention.

Then I heard what had my Mabari standing guard at the door. A loud, long scream erupted from beyond the door. A woman's scream.

Jumping up from my bed, I stumbled to my desk where my daggers were waiting for me. Fear writhed through me as I watched the door in anticipation, not even concerned that I was in nothing but my small-clothes. What was happening out there? That scream... Oriana? Elissa?!

Suddenly, before I could move, the door sprung open, one of the Castle's servants bursting through it, his face red and eyes wide. "My Lord! Help me!" the servant pleaded. "The Castle is under atta-".

Much to my horror, the servant was interrupted harshly by a steel tipped arrow forcing it's way roughly through his chest. The man collapsed in from of me, his blood staining the floors as he struggled to breathe.

I looked from the dead corpse laying on my bedroom floor to the hallway, two armed men returning my gaze, both smirking as they began to walk toward my room. With a deep growl, Max launched himself at the first soldier, pushing him to the ground where he continued his assault. I gripping my daggers as the second man hurried toward me, most likely wanting to finish me off before Max had ripped his friend's throat out.

Parrying the soldier's attack easily, I knocked the long sword from his hand, sending it flying across the room. Taking the man's surprise as an advantage, I hurried forward, sinking my blade deep into his neck.

I watched the blood trickle down the man's throat as I withdrew my blade.

I felt bile move in my stomach.

I felt like I was going to vomit.

Sure, I'd killed things before, animals and such on various hunting trips that Father would take Fergus, Elissa and I on, but I'd never actually killed a person before.

Wiping the blood off of the blade on the bedpost, I looked over to Max, who had already taken care of the first soldier. Hearing more screams from down the hallway, I rushed to gather my clothes, slipping them on in haste before anyone else came. I needed to find my sister.

Dressed and armed, I slipped the daggers into their sheathes, starting off at a run out of my room.

A nudge of my hand woke me from my horrible nightmare, the face of Max the Mabari greeting me when I opened my eyes.

I blinked rapidly for a few moment, almost willing my eyes to adjust to the pitch blackness that surrounded me. I heaved for breath, the smell of hay and horses filling my nose as I properly began to wake. Max gave a small whine, nudging my hand again with his nose. I raised my hand and placed it on his head, lazily scratching him with my fingers for a few moments before he lay back down beside me in a huff.

"I must have been sleep-talking..." I thought.

Many a time during my childhood, Max would wake me whenever I had a nightmare, my mumbled sleep-talking causing him concern and he would wake me up in an instant.

Laying back down on my not-so-comfortable bed (which was actually a block of hay with some covers and a pillow on top of it), I closed my eyes again, the images of my nightmare coming back to me; the faces of my loved ones haunting me as I tossed and turned.

Mother

Father

Fergus

Oriana

Oren...

My nightmare had been the same as it was nearly every night during the passed two weeks.

In my horrific dreams, I would wake up to Max growling at my bedroom door, confused. The two soldiers - Howe's soldiers - would barge their way into the room, Max killing one, and I killing the other. Then, I would dress and we would run into Mother and Elissa, Mother always clad in her hunting gear, and we would run through the Castle looking for my Father, Brother, Sister-in-law and Nephew. Fergus, Orin and Oriana we would always find slain in their room, their faces lifeless and dim as they looked up at the ceiling. We would then find Father, who would order Elissa and I to run from the Castle through the escape tunnel, leaving both him and Mother to the soldier's...

Shaking my head, I sat up from my makeshift bed and stretched. I opened my eyes again, somewhat happy that I could see my surroundings a little better. The barn that Elissa and I were taking refuge in was cold, but at least it kept the rain off of us when we slept. One half of the barn was made up with farm yard animals; Horses, chickens, a cow or two, maybe. The rest was either hay or tools for the farm.

Next to me was Elissa, her hair falling across her face as she slept soundly. The sheet she was given to fight the cold had slipped down to her waist, causing her to shiver from the wind that managed to get into the barn. I reached over and grabbed the sheet, sliding it up her body until it reached her neck. The shivering stopped after a while, and she showed no signs of consciousness. If anything, she pushed her face deeper into the pillow as she continued to sleep, even though there were tiny lights of morning sunshine streaming in from the cracks in the wood.

Looking around bitterly, I gritted my teeth as the situation dawned on me, as it did every morning.

"I am a Noble! A Cousland!" I thought in distaste. "I shouldn't be sleeping on some Maker-damned farm, on hay with barely enough scrapings to survive! I should be in a Castle, or an Estate, in a warm, cosy bed with my belly filled with hot food and wine!"

Huffing my disapproval, I stood up from my bed, being careful not to tread on Max as I passed him. I groggily made my way to the water butt sitting in the corner of the barn. Taking off the lid, I dipped my hands into the water, taking a few slow gulps for my thirst. I then refilled Max's water bowl, which looked like it had been empty for quiet a while.

I looked down at the water, to whatever reflection I could see. My hair was messy, not like the flat, brushed hair is used to be. No matter how hard I patted it, it would always go back to the messy state it was currently in. Small brown patches of mud were still littering my face, mocking me as I didn't even have soap to get rid of them. Dark circles were under my eyes, caused my the lack of sleep.

I hardly recognised myself.

Shaking my head in frustration, I walked away from the water butt and back to the hay-bed, sitting down on it as I thought back on the passed two weeks.

Away.

That's what we needed to do. We needed to get away from Highever as fast as we could. At first I thought of going to the village and taking one of the horses, but the thought of running into Howe's men terrified me, so we took to the road on foot.

I didn't know where we were going. It was too dark to see any signs when we left, and we were too tired and hungry to notice when we passed them.

Eventually, a kind man who was travelling in a worn carriage noticed us wandering along the road, and offered to give us a ride. He shared with us what little food and water he had and allowed us to sleep in the carriage. The next day when I awoke, he told me that he was heading south from Denerim down near the Kokari Wilds. From the night that I had had, 'south' sounded like an excellent plan to me. I mentioned my plan to Elissa when she awoke, who gave me a shrug for a reply. For nearly the whole time we travelled with the kind man, she never talked. Not even to me, too in amongst her own thoughts for speech.

During the week that we travelled together, I came to know the man quite well. His name was Michael Hawke, and he had named his horse 'Hope'. He was travelling from Denerim to his brother's farm in a little village called Lothering, and offered to talk to his brother for Elissa and I, to see if he would allow us to stay on his farm in exchange for work. I took his offer gladly, not knowing that I'd be taking up residence in the barn.

The village itself wasn't too bad. It was quiet, which was just what we both needed. It had a small Chantry on the far side of the river, a tavern and a few inns and shops. To be truthful, it was just like any other village, only much more peaceful.

The Hawke family were kind enough, too.

Malcom Hawke and his wife, Leandra, happily took us in when they heard we were willing to work on the farm. They had three children, Marian, the eldest, and twins, Carver and Bethany.

Marian seemed nice enough, and had even given me a tour of the village and taught us the proper way of handling all the tools.

The twins, I noticed, were very... very different.

Bethany was the picture of happiness. Always smiling, always having something nice to say or talk about. She was just pleasant in general. Carver, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of his twin sister. He was quiet, and always wore a sombre or serious expression. Although, I had to hand it to him, he was good with a sword, and was a very hard worker. He had even taken me to the tavern and introduced me to a few people.

Needless to say, I didn't mind staying at the farm in this little village.

Well, that was until I saw what I would be sleeping on.

A shrill noise disrupted me from my thoughts; the crowing of a cockerel.

Not that I minded much on that morning anyway, considering I was already awake. But on nearly every morning since we had arrived, that chicken would crawl from it's home in the barn to the very top of the roof and sing it's little beak off, rousing us from our slumber quickly.

Max, however, usually had a good time chasing that little beast when no one was looking.

Elissa breathed in quickly when the cockerel woke her up. It took her a few moments, but she eventually sat up in her hay-bed and gave me a look which said 'I hate that fucking chicken.'

"G'morning..." she grumbled as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

I gave her a smile when Max trotted over to her, giving her a nudge with his nose. "Hungry?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "C'mon. Leandra should be up making breakfast by now."

Tired of my uncomfortable hay-bed, I rose to my feet and made my way outside, Max on my heels as Elissa got out of bed. We walked close together as we made our way across the farm to the little house that was the home of the Hawke family. Already I could see movement in the kitchen, likely Leandra making breakfast for everyone before they started their day.

As we had been given an open-door policy, I didn't bother knocking before I entered the house. As soon as I had stepped inside, a wall of deliciousness hit me. Breakfast was definitely ready.

I shut the door behind Elissa, Max having to stay outdoors near the well, per Malcom's request. He had never let animals into the house, and he wasn't about to start because of us. We were allowed to give him a few left overs if there were any, but there was no way he was allowed in the house.

I walked down the little hallway and quickly came to the kitchen, Leandra preparing the table as we entered. Bethany was gathering cutlery ready to place on the dining table. "Morning," said the young girl, a smile, as always, lighting up her face.

"Good morning," I replied as I tried to keep out of the way of the older woman, who hurried back to preparing the meals as her young daughter set the table. "Smells good," I commented as Leandra passed me.

"Thank you, dear," she replied earnestly as she stirred the contents of a pot. Likely last night's dinner. "Now set yourselves around the table. The others should be down soon."

I let Elissa go in front of me and pick her chair first, as Father had taught me to always me a gentleman, even to my Sister. I sat beside her as she gave a long yawn, obviously still drowsy as she leaned her arms on the table, her eyes closed.

From the hallway, I could hear the door quietly being opened and closed, the faint noise of tip-toes following. It was as if someone wanted to make their presence unknown. Leaning back from the table, I looked down the hallway to see Marian, who met my gaze. She brought a finger to her lips, signalling me to be quiet.

In vain, it seemed.

"Marian!" Leandra called, and I saw the eldest Hawke daughter close her eyes and gulp. She let her head hang for a moment, then made her way to the kitchen. Leandra, who had taken her eyes off of the cooking, turned to look at her daughter. "I noticed your bed was empty last night," Leandra commented. "And this morning. Where have you been all night?"

Always a fan of gossip, I noticed Elissa open her eyes, setting herself up a bit on the table.

Ignoring her mother's gaze, Marian placed herself next to Elissa at the table, grabbing one of the slices of bread which was already laid out. "I went to the tavern," she answered honestly, although I could see she was trying very hard to keep a blush down.

Leandra made an unimpressed sound, then turned back to the cooking. "And you slept there as well, did you?" From the way Marian was ignoring her Mother's words and by the way Leandra was asking the questions, something told me the older woman already knew what her daughter had been up to. It was like they were playing some unknown game to me. Whenever Elissa or I had been up to no good and my Mother or Father knew about it, they would always tell us that they knew what we were up to and chastised us for whatever it was that we had done. Not... whatever Leandra was doing.

Marian grabbed the collar of her jacket and pressed it to her cheek, hiding her neck as the blush she tried to keep down came to her cheeks. "No..."

Leandra, who had now placed everything on their rightful plates, turned and placed the dishes on the table. She looked at Marian, and again, gave her a disappointed look. "Marian, you cannot cover what I have already seen," she retorted before taking her own place at the table and picking up her knife and fork.

Letting go of her collar in a huff, Marian took her own cutlery and slowly began eating. It was then that I saw what Leandra had meant. At the high point of Marian's neck, near her chin, was a red, puffed up mark; a love bite.

Realising what she had been up to, I began poking at the eggs on the plate as a silence settled over the dining table. A few moments later, the sound of heavy footsteps came down the stairs, Carver coming into the kitchen. He wore his standard working clothes, his hair messy as it always was in the morning. "Morning," he said groggily. He looked over to me, which seemed to put him in a more alert mood. "Woah," he started. "You look tired, Aedan."

I shrugged off his comment, swallowing what was in my mouth. "I didn't get what you'd call a good nights rest. Nightmares," I replied as I slide more food onto my fork, trying to ignore the way Elissa was looking at me.

"Nightmares?" Bethany asked from her side of the table. "What kind of nightmares?" I frowned slightly, looking back down to my food. I didn't really have anything against telling them, but talking about my troubles still pained me. Besides, it wouldn't do any good to tell them of mine and Elissa's Noble - well, once noble status.

"Bethany!" Marian barked. Bethany sunk back into her seat and began picking at her food again, muttering a small 'sorry'. "Carver's right though, you do look tired," Marian continued. "Maybe you should go see the Revered Mother? She always makes time to talk to people who need an open-ear."

"Or just one of the Chantry Followers," Bethany added. "A lot of them are willing to listen to you if they have the time. Some of them help by talking, too," she chuckled, before adding again, "Sister Leliana helps me when I'm feeling a bit upset. She tells the best stories."

"What do you have to be upset about?" Carver piped up. "You're always so... jolly and happy."

The Hawke Children continued their bickering over the rest of breakfast, Malcom coming down when everyone was nearly finished and ready for work. Throughout the remainder of the meal, however, Marian and Bethany's words were playing in my mind. 'Maybe I should go to the Chantry...'

I felt Elissa nudge my knee with hers, and I glanced over to her. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

I gave her what I hoped was a comforting smile and nodded my head, uncomfortable with the fact I had just basically lied to the only family I had left in this world.

From the moment I stepped out of Michael Hawke's cart and into Lothering, I only ever really stayed at the farm, occasionally visiting the Tavern if I had a few coins to spare. And that was it. I never really went anywhere else. I never crossed the bridge that went to the far side of the village, finding no need to. I didn't feel the urge to explore my new home like Elissa did.

Of course, the fact that the Chantry was on this side of the village may have something to do with it.

Throughout our upbringing's, our Mother and Father had raised me and my sister as Andrastians. Mother told us stories of Andraste and the Makar so often that I had no choice but to memorise them word for word. Even so, I never truly believed. Not really. Whether Elissa did or not, I wasn't too sure. We never really talked about religion with each other. And now, with everything that happened at Highever, I was as far from a believer as one could get. I suppose some could say I was angry at the Chantry, to the Mother's who spread the word of the Makar, claiming that he has love for all his children.

Obviously not.

Even though my newly found dislike of the Chantry kept me away from the Holy building, my earlier conversation with Marian and Bethany kept grating on me, as well as the deaths of my family. When Howe's treachery came to my mind throughout the morning on the farm, I worked aggressively, harder than usual.

Maybe the Revered Mother could help me.

When Malcom called to us that it was time for a break, just gone noon, I decided that a trip to the Chantry couldn't hurt, especially if it would ease my mind. 'But if she begins preaching to me, I'm getting out of there, help or not.'

Hands stuffed into my pockets, hood up and eyes cast downward, I crossed the bridge, shoulders stiff and aching from working all morning. I had told Elissa that I would be back by the time lunch had finished, and she seemed happy enough to spend it with Marian. I clambered the steps to the Chantry's massive door, opening it with ease. I closed the door behind me before taking my hood down and glancing around. The building was fairly big, candles littering the alcoves in the walls.

I wandered along the wide entry-way, noticing with distain that the whole building look dead. There was hardly anyone here, save for a woman sitting at the far end of the building with who I assumed to be her son. They were sitting on a pew in front of wooden stage, a statue of Andraste in the middle. I walked to the area, the two not paying me any notice, as I looked around for who I was looking for. Finding no luck, I turned to the Mother and child. "Excuse me?" I asked politely, the blonde woman looking up at me when I approached her. "I don't suppose you know where I can find the Revered Mother?"

The woman shook her head before looking back down at her book, her son smiling up at me.

Sighing, I turned on heel and began walking back toward the door. Already this place was making me feel uncomfortable. A few meters away from the door, a voice called from behind me.

"Hello?"

At first I thought it was the woman reading her book. I turned, finding that it was in fact someone else; another woman. She was garbed in Chantry Robes, a closed book in her hands as she came towards me.

'Woah...' I thought. 'She's... woah...'

Maker, she was beautiful...

She was relatively tall and had a medium build, the Robes coming nicely over her body. She had a petite nose, her lips full with a red that I couldn't describe. Luscious would be an accurate word. Her blue eyes held the deepness of oceans behind them, and her red, fiery hair came to her shoulders. "You said you were looking for the Revered Mother? I can take you to her, if you'd like?" she said, her Orlesian accent filling my ears.

However, the longer I gazed at this red-headed beauty, I more I felt waves of sadness hit me. It was as though someone had punched me in the chest, winding me. That's what it felt like, anyway, as I struggled to breathe. 'Red hair... Oren..." I thought, tears coming betrayingly to my eyes as I thought of my nephew. "Uhh," I stuttered, my eyes straying quickly from the Chantry Sister. "I'm terribly sorry... I - uhh..."

The Sister looked at me with great concern, looking around the room for anyone else. It was only me, her and the Mother and child up the other end. She gave me a comforting smile before placing a hand on my shoulder and guiding me toward one of the seats by the wall. We sat together in silence for a long while as I tried to catch my breath and compose myself.

I took a deep breath and straightened out, not yet willing to look over to her. 'I have such a way with women...' I thought, chastising myself. I didn't need to cry.

Crying was for the weak.

It left people vulnerable.

"I'm sorry," I said to the Sister. "I didn't mean to get like that."

''I didn't mean to get like that'? Seriously, Aedan? Who means to 'get like that'? Idiot...'

"It's not a problem," the Orlesian woman said, patting me on the shoulder. "Everyone needs to let it out sometimes. I like to think that it is our emotions that make us human." She took her hand from my shoulder as she sat down beside me. "Allow me to introduce myself; I am Leliana. I'm a lay Sister here."

'Leliana? The name fits the face...'

"Aedan," I replied, giving her as much of a smile as I could as I shook her soft, small hand.

"Aedan?" she asked. "The young man who moved in with the Hawke's a few weeks ago?"

I gave a small chuckle. Did everyone know that? "Yeah, that's me."

"I see..." she muttered before picking up her gorgeous voice again. She gave me a teasing nudge and giggled. "So you're the 'handsome, muscular man' that Bethany told me of?"

My eyes widened in shock as I turned to look at Leliana, surprise evident on my face. "Bethany said that?" I asked, not believing her words.

Leliana nodded as I watched her smile. "Mhmm. She seems quite taken with you, in fact. I could go into detail with some of the secrets she told me, but I think I would qualify it as 'girl talk'. Sorry," she laughed again.

'Her laugh is so pretty... what is wrong with me?'

I shook my head, muttering a quick 'don't worry about it', and then we fell into a silence, leaving me with my thoughts and leaving her... to do think about whatever she was thinking about. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, and I think she could tell that I greatly appreciated the company.

After a while, she broke the silence with a story, which led to another story, and then another, my interest deepening each time. She had a voice that anyone could listen to, and it made following her stories so much easier.

After, we chatted for a little while, and she told me a little of her background, her being born and raised in Orlais, but considering herself Fereldan because of her Mother. I told her as little as I could, not wanted to let slip of my Noble birth. It was just so... easy to talk with her. The only things she really knew about me by the end of our chat was that I had a sister and we lived in Highever for a time before moving south.

Leliana and I sat there for a full two hours just talking and enjoying each other's company whilst the Chantry folk and villagers walked past us. By the time I realised that my lunch hour was over by thirty minutes, I gave her a brief apology, telling her that I had to return to the farm.

"Hey, listen..." I muttered, my hand going to the back of my neck. "I'm really sorry about earlier; about breaking down. It's just that... your hair... it's the same colour as my nephew's and my sister-in-law's... and uhh... they died a little while ago. So you kind of... reminded me of them, I guess..."

"Ah," Leliana said, her smile diminishing somewhat. "My condolences. You must have loved them very much." I nodded my head, looking down at the floor. "Although I won't apologize for my hair," she said in a joking manner.

"Don't be," I replied, smiling once again. "It's lovely." She rose an eyebrow at me as she cocked her head and smiled wider, causing a small blush to creep up my neck as I realised the compliment I had given her.

'Did she take that as flirting?... was I flirting?'

I gave the mix of an awkward cough and a laugh as I turned to the door again, sending a glace to her over my shoulder. "I'll see you around, Leliana," I said in farewell.

"Good day, Aedan," she called as I stepped through the door.

As I walked back towards the farm, my hands coming into my pockets as I walked, I gave a small smirk as I went on my way. I felt a lot more... refreshed, lighter even. Something told me that I'd be seeing a lot more of Leliana, and soon.

Hopefully.

Well, that's chapter one done.

A big thanks to anyone who clicked on this story, and to those who may wish to follow it, favourite, or leave a review ;)

This story was a prompt given to me by movienut96. Thank a lot, and I hope you enjoy :D

~RJay