Ok, so I've been dying to do my own Bann Teagan fanfic and this weekend I finally decided to break down and start it. I was listening to an old Meredith Brooks song while attempting to write another chapter for MHUA when the lyrics made me stop dead and open up a notebook and start jotting down ideas for this story. I'm still working on the next chapter of Maker Help Us All as well, so don't worry. I haven't given up on that. I just wanted to get this one out of my head to make room for some more righteous Grey-Wardening! Enjoy!
Evelyn stared down at the offending garment that her mother had laid across the bed for her nearly an hour before in complete disgust. She was irritated that they had travelled such a distance to attend this event at Redcliffe, but to try and wrap her up like some sort of pretty package for random wishy-washy noble dunderheads to paw at was nearly unforgivable. At nineteen, she was just the right age for every bachelor who assumed he was eligible to vie for her attention and her mother seemed to be counting on that. Evelyn loved Eleanor dearly but this little game she played to marry her off so she could get more grandchildren was ridiculous.
She suddenly wished more than ever that she had refused to accompany her mother and father to this place and stayed back in Highever with Fergus. Her brother had wanted to come, the Arl's brother was one of his closest friends and this party was in his honor, but their father had insisted that he stay and take care of the Terynir in his stead. Evelyn let out an aggravated sigh; there was no way in hell she was going to participate in this debacle. It was going to take a team of warhorses to pull her out of the safety of this guestroom.
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door as she paced the room. Though she had absolutely no desire to see anyone she bid the guest to enter anyway. This wasn't her home after all. She was not surprised when her father ducked into the chamber and closed the door behind him. "Team of warhorses," she thought to herself, "or my father…damn." She steeled herself for the coming battle and shot him a frown as she knew what was about to happen. She warily kept her eyes on him as she crossed the room to plop down onto the bed.
A knowing smile spread across Bryce Cousland's face as he observed his youngest. "What's the matter, Pup? You don't like the dress your mother had made for you?" he asked, motioning to the flowing green velvet garment. Her frown deepened but she did not answer him, casting her eyes down to the item. It was a beautiful dress, deep hunter green with a squared neckline that was followed with a gorgeous gold ribbon, woven in an intricate dwarven design. The long bell sleeves and the hem that would drag the floor were also adorned with the gold accent making the garment simple but absolutely stunning.
Her father watched as she appraised the dress, but he could also practically hear the gears turning in his daughter's head. She had no intention of allowing him to charm her into getting ready the way he usually could today. He strode across the guest room and took a knee in front of her, taking her delicate long fingered hands into his as he peered up at her lovely face. Her countenance still bore the tale-tell signs of her irritation; pursed lips, jaw set and eyes tightly shut against his attempts to sway her.
She felt him gently set her hands back on her knees, heard him shuffle, and felt the bed space beside her dent with his weight. "Here it comes," she thought as a slight panic rose in her, "but you will not win today, Father. I am ready this time…I hope."
"Pup," he began in his comforting voice, but she cut him off before he could say anything else.
"No, not today father," she declared heatedly as she stood up and faced him, "I refuse to be wrapped up like a pretty present so that these BOYS can fight over a chance to decide which of them will have the right to unwrap me!"
Bryce kept his face carefully neutral as his daughter continued her rant. He couldn't help but notice how much she looked like Eleanor as she shook her finger in his direction. Her soft raven curls framed her delicate features and fierce emerald eyes were set like glittering jewels against her pale cheeks. She was the perfect combination of her mother and father though her fiery temperament and will to battle was all Eleanor.
"I love mother with all my heart, but this little game that she insists on playing is absurd," she stated in an acidic tone, pushing her palm toward him to keep him from speaking, "We are here for Bann Teagan's birthday and that should be it. What does he care if I'm dressed like a doll from a fairy tale? It's his day, not some opportunity to turn me into some noble idiot's baby making foothold to the throne."
His lips twitched at her fervor and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling as she began to pace again. She was seething and lost in her own thoughts when he ventured to speak again.
"I don't think your mother's intention was to offend you, Evie," he said in his best fatherly but diplomatic tone, "though I think that she would be terribly disappointed if you chose not to wear it. It was a gift, after all. I also believe that Teagan would be equally disappointed if you decided to remain in your room." He rose from the bed and gave her hair a gentle tug as he continued his on his way to the door. "Just think about it, Pup, that's all I ask," he said quietly as he stopped and pulled the wooden portal open, looking back over his shoulder at her. She had stopped pacing and was eyeing him balefully before abruptly turning her back on him and peering down at the dress again. He smirked as he pulled the door shut behind him. Mission accomplished.
Evie moved carefully down the stairs, the long hem of the velvet dress dragging slightly behind her. It embraced her curves in a divine way from the square neck all the way to her hips where it then cascaded to the floor in layers of soft folds. She grimaced as she reached the bottom of the stairwell and smoothed her clammy palms down the heavy fabric. "This is going to cause a LOT of unnecessary attention," she thought unhappily, "Teagan better be damned glad that I like him." She huffed irritably at the thought and hastily ran her fingers through her dark locks before finally deciding to make her way toward the main hall. As she turned the last corner in the corridor that would lead to her final destination she spied a man squatted with his back against the stone wall. He was finely dressed and had his hand buried in his medium length reddish brown hair.
At the sound of her light footfalls he sighed tiredly and turned his gaze toward her. Their eyes met and she sucked in her breath, it had been almost three years since she had last seen him and Maker's breath was he handsome. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the thought and dropped her eyes to the floor quickly so he wouldn't see it as he rose from his position with fluid grace.
"It can't be," he exclaimed, closing the distance between them as she rubbed her palms together nervously, "Is that little Evie Cousland all dressed up?"
She wrinkled her nose at his statement, her eyes flashing as she met his gaze again. His brows were furrowed and his expression of disbelief only served to make him look even more attractive. "Damn," she thought, "It was a childhood crush, a silly thing. Casual…must act casual." She cleared her throat and put on a nonchalant expression before answering.
"I don't know…are you Teagan Guerrin, skipping out on the entire fake noble pleasantry of his own party?" she queried with a wry smile.
He chuckled in the rich deep way that she had always loved when she was a girl and much to her surprise he took her delicate hand into his and slowly brought it to his lips, brushing her knuckles with a kiss. The contact only served to start a slow burn in her that threatened to engulf her completely as she looked into his sapphire eyes.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, M'lady and if I might be so bold, you are looking lovelier than ever," he said, flashing her an incredibly sexy grin that set her heart to fluttering at a rapid pace in her chest, "and though it is quite stunning, of that you can be assured, I question your mother's choice in your attire this evening." He finished his statement with a knowing smirk, his expression alone confirming that his memory of her usual style of battle dress was not overlooked.
Evie didn't know if it was the fact that he still held her hand in his, that he knew she would never dress like this on her own, or if it was the softness in his chiseled features as he gazed at her but she giggled in a girly way that had not emerged from her in years. She found the sound that had bubbled up from her throat even more embarrassing than the green gift wrap that she had on at the moment. He was still smiling in his cat-who-ate-the-canary way as she hastily slipped her hand from his grip. "Well, my mother has some interesting ideas about what I should be doing these days," she bit out as she stepped away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, "And I…"
"Think she's full of rubbish and that you should live your life in whatever way that you want," he interrupted with a quirk of his eyebrow, "if only it were that easy, Evie."
The smile that had been plastered on his face had melted away into a more serious look as he stepped forward and placed his hand on her elbow. She started to protest as he led her over to a stone bench and motioned for her to take a seat but his look killed it before it escaped her lips. He settled on the seat beside her before he continued.
"Trust me, I know exactly how you feel," he said as his hand found its way back into his hair, "Eamon has been pestering me to marry for a few years now. This little party is his way of assisting me by gathering up all of the available ladies of the realm." He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "What he fails to realize is that I do not require or want his assistance."
She nodded in agreement feeling an even stronger kinship to the man and slipped her hand onto his shoulder even though her gut told her the move was a mistake. The moment her fingertips rested on the fabric of his tunic she felt a shudder ripple through him and would have removed her hand right then had his eyes not pinned her in place. She held her breath as his heat wound its way around the hand she had placed on him. Their faces were only a few inches apart now. "What if…" she thought.
They were brought back to reality by the sound of the main hall door opening. She quickly dropped her hand back into her lap and looked up to see her father entering the hallway. Teagan's posture went ramrod straight as he rose to greet the Teryn. "My lord," he said smoothly and he grasped the older man's arm, "It's a pleasure to see you. I am glad that your family accepted my brother's invitation."
"The pleasure is mine, Teagan," he returned, passing a look to his daughter who seemed more nervous now than she had earlier, "I see that my Evelyn isn't the only one who prefers to not take part in affairs such as these."
"Ah, you caught me," Teagan said throwing his hands up in surrender, "I needed to get some air away from the endless prattle and happened to run into Evie while I was out here. We were just about to come in and join the festivities."
"Right, right," he replied nodding to the Bann, "I shall see you both inside then." He looked at his fierce girl one more time as she grimaced at the stone floor before shutting the door behind him again.
Evie gave an un-ladylike snort as she stood. "Smooth," she said with a roll of her emerald eyes. Teagan chuckled as she ran her hands over her face and sighed.
He walked to her side and offered his arm. "Shall we," he queried with a grin as he jerked his head toward the main hall. She wrinkled her nose at him but slid her arm through his. "We may as well get it over with, at any rate," he said conspiratorially as led her through the door.