Time Spent in the Wilds

Fergus awakened to the smell of pine and a searing pain in his side. He looked around, and did not recognize his surroundings.

"Hello?" he called, and heard nothing but the squawks of birds outside his window. Fergus put a hand to his head, intending to run his hand through his hair. He felt that his hair was tightly braided, and pulled his hand away. He pulled the unfamiliar blankets off himself and tried to stand. His legs collapsed under him, and he crashed to the floor.

"Maker's tits!" he swore, and dragged himself over to a window. He pulled himself up, his arms shaking with the effort, and peered out. He gasped at what he saw and let go, landing heavily on his knees. Trees, endless trees, greeted him outside the window. That alone would not bother him, but he saw the tops of trees, which meant he was very high above the ground. Fergus felt dizzy. Ever since he was a child, heights had made his head spin and his palms sweat. He was not like his sister, Kate, who swung through the trees like a monkey, completely fearless. He preferred the feeling of solid ground under his feet. He looked around the room, which had rough wooden floorboards and a strange, circular shape. Fergus recalled a paragraph from one of the history books he had studied in his childhood.

"Wilder folk live in strange, savage huts set high in the trees. They build them in circular shapes, though the reason for this is unclear."

Chasind. Somehow, Fergus had awakened in a Chasind hut in the middle of what he hoped were the Kocari Wilds.

Fergus heard someone climbing up a ladder outside, and he reached for his sword. He realized he was clad in nothing but a long nightshirt, and he cringed. He felt like a cicada who had just shed its skin, naked and helpless.

The door swung open, and a woman stepped in. She looked young, probably around Kate's age, and had long, red hair braided tightly against her head. Blue and green beads glinted at the ends of some of her braids, matching the odd ocean-blue of her eyes, which were currently narrowed at him.

"You're up." she said. "You shouldn't be. Here, let's get you back into bed," she said, her voice only slightly accented.

"You speak Fereldan?" asked Fergus stupidly.

"Obviously." she said, smirking.

"Are you Wilder?" asked Fergus.

"I am Chasind. Wilder is a nasty word around here." said the woman. "My name is Kaetra."

"Like my sister. My sister's name is Kate." said Fergus.

Kaetra looked at him strangely, and bent down, putting her hands under his armpits.

Fergus shrugged away.

"Where am I? Where is the rest of my regiment?" asked Fergus.

"You are in our village, in the Kocari. The rest of the men you were with are dead." said Kaetra.

Fergus felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

"What? All of them?" he asked.

"All of them. You survived because you took a blow to the head, and appeared dead. Luckily for you, the dark ones were no longer hungry, and they left you. My cousin and the rest of the scouts found you, and dragged you back here."

"How long have I been here? I need to get back to Ostagar." said Fergus.

Kaetra let out a humourless laugh. "Ostagar is long lost. Your king is dead, as are most of the soldiers who were with him. The only ones who lived were cowards who deserted. Loggen, I think the name was, of the man who led the traitors' retreat."

"Loghain." breathed Fergus. He felt sick. His father and all the Highever men, dead.

"You have been in and out of consciousness for three moons-er, months, I think you call them." said Kaetra.

Fergus started. "What? Three months?! I have to get back to Highever!" he said, and struggled to stand. He stood, his legs shaking badly. He gripped the windowsill, panting.

"You are not well enough to even walk yet. You cannot go anywhere." said Kaetra. "Here, let me help you."

"So you're keeping me prisoner, then? Any ransom you want-I can pay it. I need to get out of here!" said Fergus.

"This is how you talk to a woman who kept you alive the past three months? A woman without whose skill you would surely have died? I told you, Kaetra, you were foolish to save one of the Grippa." said a sardonic voice from the door.

A woman leaned against the doorway, a furious glare on her face. Sunlight framed her, making her deeply tanned skin seem aflame. Black brows scowled over a face that would be pretty if it ever smiled.

"Seilra." said Kaetra. "Calm yourself. He just woke up."

"That doesn't give him leave to talk to you that way." snarled Seilra and stalked past Kaetra to Fergus. Up close, Fergus saw Seilra's black hair was also braided back, though no beads adorned her braids. A piece of rough string; twine, really, held Seilra's hair up in the back of her head.

Seilra gripped Fergus's jaw. "Grippa, if I ever hear such disrespect out your mouth again, I'll cut your tongue out." she spat.

Fergus felt the grief in his belly turn to anger. The fury ripped through him, infusing him with strength. He knocked her hand aside and pushed her back.

"Keep your filthy hands off me, Wilder." hissed Fergus, his furious black gaze meeting her equally black glare.

Seilra lunged forward, her hands outstretched for his throat, but Kaetra pushed herself between them.

"Seilra!" she shouted. "Leave him alone!"

Seilra backed away. "Only out of respect for you, cousin." she said, and slammed the door so hard the hut shook.

Fergus sunk to his knees, strength deserted him. Kaetra crouched next to him. "You'll have to excuse Seilra. She hates anyone who isn't Chasind, and especially if they are male."

"I'm sorry for talking to you like that. I was not expecting to hear of the death of my father and all my fellows." said Fergus.

"It is to be expected." said Kaetra, patting his arm. "Now, you need to get back into bed."

"I have to get to Highever." insisted Fergus.

"I'll ask one of the scouts if they can take a message. How about that?" asked Kaetra.

Fergus knew he would not be able to make the journey anytime soon. He had never felt so weak or so sick.

"I guess that will suffice." he said. "Here, have them take this." said Fergus, and pulled his signet ring from his finger. "This will prove that I sent them."

Kaetra put the ring into one of her apron's many pockets, and then helped him to his feet. He leaned on her and stumbled back over to the bed.

"Thank you for saving me." he said, touching Kaetra's hand. Kaetra pulled it back quickly, and stood quickly.

Fergus lifted a hand to his head, his familiar habit of running his hand through his hair thwarted by the braids. He began to pull at one, trying to unbraid it.

"Don't!" said Kaetra sharply, her cheeks pink.

"Why not? I don't like having it braided." said Fergus.

"You must, while you are with us. It is proper." said Kaetra.

"Why?" asked Fergus.

"You will learn. Just leave it alone. I will go speak with the scouts. Then, if you are feeling well enough, I will bring you something to eat." she said, and hurried out.

Fergus sank back onto the bed. He knew in his heart that his father was dead. Bryce Cousland was no coward, and would never have left King Cailan to die. He worried about his mother. She would not take his father's death well. The faces of Oriana and Oren swam in front of his eyes, and some of his grief abated. At least he still had them, waiting for him. He knew Kate would keep everyone together. She was strong, his little sister.

The next week Fergus felt some of his strength return. He managed to walk over to the window on his own, though Kaetra had to help him on the return journey. He refused her offers to help him eat, though half of his meal ended up in his lap, his shaky hands unable to grip the spoon very well. Kaetra cleaned it up without saying anything, and Fergus was grateful for her attempts to save his pride. He began to look forward to her visits, as lying in bed was terribly boring.

"I brought you something." said Kaetra, cradling something in her hands.

"What?" asked Fergus.

Kaetra held it out, and Fergus laughed in delight. A tiny, bemasked face peered from her arms.

"It's a robbercat." said Fergus. "Where did you get it?"

"Robbercat? That's a funny word for them. We call them raccoons." said Kaetra, who placed the tiny body in Fergus's lap.

"Well, he is wearing a mask, like a robber." said Fergus, stroking the grey fur.

"What is a robber?" asked Kaetra, cocking her head.

"Someone who breaks into someone else's house and steals from them." said Fergus.

"Oh, like a thief? Why would they wear a mask?" asked Kaetra.

"So you can't recognize them." said Fergus.

"It would be just as easy to recognize someone from their shoulders, or their hands, as their face. Grippa are strange." said Kaetra, shaking her head. "Isn't he cute? One of the children saw a furious battle between this little guy's mother and a fox. Both died from their wounds. Seilra helped the children find the nest, and now we have four of these nuisances running around the village."

"Seilra helped children find baby robbercats? She didn't just kill the babies? She seems the type." said Fergus, his anger flaring up as he thought of the woman sneering at him.

Kaetra laughed. "Seilra has quite a soft heart when it comes to children and animals. Anyone else had better watch themselves, though."

"I find that hard to believe." said Fergus. The robbercat in his lap climbed up his shirt, and he cradled it against his chest. "You're so sweet!" he crooned to it. "Mean old Kaetra called you a nuisance, but you're not a nuisance, are you?"

Kaetra laughed again. "Try telling me that later, when he's stealing everything you own and making a nest out of it."

"I've never even seen one of these! I read about them in books, but they are rare in the north, where I live." said Fergus, holding out the little raccoon. It squirmed and chirped.

"They are very common in the forest around here." said Kaetra.

In the next few weeks, Johnny, as Fergus named the robbercat, proved Kaetra right. He got into everything with his tiny fingers. Fergus found ways to keep the raccoon entertained, lest it spend its time pulling his hair and chattering in his ear.

He was reminded of Oren's toddler days, when his boy had driven Oriana nearly mad, pulling down everything his pudgy fingers could reach. Fergus's throat constricted with longing for his family. He thought of Oriana's beautiful, worried face when he left her. He also thought of her farewell kiss, and what that kiss had turned into. Fergus groaned and slipped a hand under the blankets, thinking of Oriana's lush, pink mouth wrapped around him, of the wicked way she would use her tongue.

The next day, Kaetra announced he was well enough to attempt a trip down the ladder, to the village below. Fergus gulped, thinking of the very high drop, of how his skull would sound, cracking against the hard, frozen ground below. He saw Kaetra's expectant face and swallowed his fear, steeling himself.

He climbed down slowly, taking each step carefully. He could not keep his hands from trembling in fear, and he hoped that if Kaetra noticed, she would think his tremors were from residual weakness, not fear.

Kaetra did not notice, but someone else did.

"Pathetic Grippa, afraid of a ladder that four-year olds climb without fear." sneered Seilra, who was watching his slow descent.

Fergus gritted his teeth and ignored her mocking voice.

"Don't fall, now. I'd hate for you to break any more bones." said Seilra.

Fergus felt anger reawaken. Why had she decided to bother him? He despised her. He forced himself to swing off the last step lightly, as he had seen Kate jump.

He landed in front of Seilra's surprised face. "Just recovering from a little sickness, is all." he said, and smiled blandly. He watched her mouth twist into a frown, and smiled wider.

Fergus found himself the subject of many curious eyes. He smiled back at them. Fergus had never been shy, and seeing so many faces comforted him.

"Hello."Fergus said. One of the little boys watching him, his hair red and braided like Kaetra's wiggled out of his mother's grasp and ran forward.

"Hello." he said shyly. "What's your name?"

"My name is Fergus." said Fergus, and held out a hand. The little boy took it and puffed out his chest, proud to be greeted like a grownup.

"My name is-" he started, and was picked up by Seilra, who scolded him.

"What did I tell you about talking to strangers?"

The boy wiggled, trying to escape her grasp, but she held him firmly. The boy shouted over Seilra's shoulder,

"Hairris! My name is Hairris!"

Fergus waved, and watched Seilra walk away, anger visible in the way her ponytail swung and the set of her brown shoulders. Fergus laughed nastily, glad to upset her.

Hairris's bravery emboldened the rest of the villagers, who soon surrounded Fergus, asking him questions.

"Did you really live in one of the stone houses on the ground? How did you keep it clean?" asked one of the older women, her grey braids swinging with red and yellow beads.

"We had stone floors. We had brooms, just like you. I, myself, didn't do much cleaning. I am a warrior, and since I was about thirteen, have spent my time fighting or patrolling my family's land." said Fergus.

The woman nodded, and Fergus once again noticed the beads in her hair.

"What is your job?" he asked the woman. Fergus heard one of the children sigh and say, "look at her beads, stupid!"

The woman turned to the child and cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "He is not one of us. His clan does not keep their hair bound."

One of the older children tittered at this.

"What? Why do you braid your hair?" asked Fergus.

"It is complicated. Let me just say that from the time our children have hair long enough to put into braids, it is bound. Our hair is only unbound to wash, and then only when we are alone." said the woman. "The beads denote different-uh-positions in the clan, I guess. My red beads mean that I am a senior weaver. Kaetra, the woman who took care of you, her blue beads mean that she is a journeyman healer. The number determines rank. That is why I have three on the ends of some of my braids."

"Why doesn't Seilra wear any?" asked Fergus.

"Because she is a scout and a hunter. Beads would clink together, and she needs to move as silently as possible. Hunters only wear the family bead, and only on one braid." said the woman.

"What about your yellow beads?" asked Fergus.

"You miss nothing." said the woman, approval lighting her eyes. "These mean that I am a daughter of the Sunavi family."

"Seilra doesn't have any beads." said Fergus.

"That is because her mother died before she was old enough to assume her place as matriarch of her family. When she is ready, she will take her rightful place. This will happen once she finds a partner and starts a family." said the woman. "Oh, please excuse my manners. My name is Taedra."

"Why do all the women have -ra at the ends of their names?" asked Fergus.

Taedra laughed. "You are full of questions. -Ra is the female name for our clan. -Is is the male name."

Fergus nodded. He answered questions about Highever. People were horrified that he had ever trusted his life to a boat, and incredulous at the idea of water that extended further than the eye could see.

"If you are a warrior, why didn't you have a bow?" asked one of the men, who was leaning against a tree near the back of the group.

"I am not an archer. I fight with one greatsword." said Fergus.

The man arched an eyebrow. "When you are well, I would like to test my swords against you." he said.

Fergus grinned. "We shall have our spar, my man."

The man smiled back, his brown hair glinting in the sun.

"Later tonight, look for me around the far fire. My men would love to quiz you, I'm sure." he said, and seemed to melt into the trees.

Fergus heard someone huff next to him, and saw Seilra standing nearby, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Oh, somebody is not happy about a grippa joining their celebration." said Taedra to Fergus. "She needs to let go of her anger sometime. I warn you, though, to avoid the tar-looking drink they will try to give you. The scouts had a successful winter hunt, and they will want to celebrate."

Fergus, never one to heed anyone's advice, found himself gulping down his fourth mug of the black drink. It had a strange name, unpronounceable to Fergus, and seared all the way down his throat. He found himself laughing and joking with the others. The camadarie among the scouts was familiar. It seemed that soldiers anywhere shared a love for dirty jokes, drinking, and rough-housing. Fergus found himself locked into an arm-wrestling tournament with the scouts. He easily beat each one, and they cheered him on. Then a brute of man settled onto the bench across for him. He belched mightily, and Fergus gulped.

"Tarris is the name. I heard you trounced the lot of them, but that means next to nothing, as they hardly have the strength of a newborn baby." said the man, his blond beard trailing in two braids down his massive chest.

The rest of the men protested good-naturedly, and bets were exchanged.

"I want you to know I'm only betting on you because I hope you can put in a good word for me with Kaetra." said a brown-haired man, clappng a slender hand on Fergus's shoulder. Fergus recognized him-was his name Balris or Dralis? He shrugged, and laughed. "I certainly will, my friend. I'm so drunk I don't even remember your name-"

"Balris." said the man, smiling a wide, white smile. Fergus noticed a long scar across the man's face, and resolved to ask him about it later.

"Are you going to spend all night chatting?" asked Tarris.

Fergus turned, and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I'm ready." he said, and held out his hand. The night erupted into cheers and hollers.

Tarris gripped his hand and then they began straining against one another. Fergus had not lost in arm-wrestling since he was fifteen. He knew himself to be large and strong, but still had always wondered if the other men let him win, out of deference to his nobility. Fergus felt Tarris's iron grip pushing his arm over, and he pushed back, managing to move the man's hand back, and then nearly to the table.

Fergus heard the gasps of the crowd, and Tarris suddenly slammed Fergus's hand against the table. Tarris threw his huge blonde head back and laughed.

"You almost had me there, son!" he bellowed.

Fergus shook his head ruefully. "You were just playing with me."

"Perhaps, but I have not met anyone nearly as strong as you since I was first mate on the Sundown." said Tarris.

Fergus looked at him strangely. "You mean you aren't Chasind?' he asked.

Tarris met his gaze, his ice-blue eyes twinkling. "I am Chasind now. I weren't born Chasind."

Fergus recognized the man's slight south-sea accent.

"Ask me about it sometime." said Tarris. "For now, I have bets to collect."

Fergus watched the man stand up and face his crowd of admirers, and saw a tall woman, her smooth black hair shining in a braid that nearly reached her waist, push through the crowd and throw her arms around Tarris's neck. She kissed him soundly, and Fergus saw a small braid swing forward, its white bead matching the bead in Tarris's braid.

Fergus saw that she was wearing scout armor, as well, and smiled. It seemed he had his answer as to why Tarris had abandoned the sea-faring life.

Fergus felt a hand slap him on the back. "Good job, mate! Even if you didn't win, I've never seen Tarris so much as twitch before, and this time, he was sweating!"

Fergus turned to see Balris's wide smile. "Here, you deserve this." Balris said, and pushed another mug of the black drink into his hand.

"Ugh, I don't think I can stomach another." said Fergus. "I'm drunk enough as is."

"Can you stand?" asked Balris.

Fergus nodded and stood.

"Then you aren't drunk." said Balris. "Drink up."

Fergus laughed and knocked the drink back, feeling it coat his throat with fire on the way down.

Fergus awakened on the ground, his face pressed against a pile of pine needles. He groaned, and grimaced. His mouth tasted awful, and his head-Fergus felt as if his head had expanded to twice its size, and filled the new space with bees.

Fergus heard someone snicker, and rolled over to see Kaetra standing over him, her gentle face attempting a scowl, and failing.

"Get up, you drunkard. You're lucky I came looking for you last night, or you would have frozen to death." she said, and held out a hand to help him up.

Fergus noticed the blankets piled on top of him.

"Er-thanks," he said, and stood up. Kaetra gathered up the blankets and wrinkled her nose.

"Ugh, did you have to vomit on them?" she asked.

"That's my puke, actually." said Balris, stirring on the ground next to them. "You covered us up? That's so sweet, Kaetra." he said warmly, his brown eyes twinkling.

Kaetra smiled back. "How could I not? You looked so innocent, lying there. I half-expected to see you sucking your thumb like you used to."

Balris grimaced and brushed himself off. "Let me take these. I'll wash them." he said, and took the blankets from her. "Fergus, you're helping me with this."

"Ha! I doubt it." said Fergus.

"It's your fault, you know! I championed you, and everyone was so impressed with your performance that after you passed out, they kept giving me drinks in your stead. I saved you from death by balreougch poisoning. I saved your life, and you can hardly-"

"Fine, fine. Anything to stop your endless chatter. My head is killing me." said Fergus, and stumbled after Balris to the large laundry tubs. They hauled water from the well to a tub, and Balris lit a fire under it.

"I wish it were summer. It's a lot easier to do laundry in the stream." grumbled Balris.

"Hey, at least Kaetra covered you up! I think she likes you." said Fergus, trying to cheer him up.

"Ha! She still sees me as the youngster she used to watch. She's five years older than me, you know, and that five years seems impossible for her to forget." said Balris. "I've done everything to show her that I've grown up, that I'm a man. I'm very well respected by the other scouts, I bring in more meat than anyone. She doesn't see it. She still sees me as cute." Balris spat the last word.

Fergus laughed, and Balris glared at him. "I'm sorry, but you are kind of cute." said Fergus, and danced out of the way of Balris's kick.

"Why not find someone else?" asked Fergus. "The other women seem to admire you."

"Because I don't want anyone else. I've never wanted anyone but her." said Balris. "This scar on my face? I got it from my pa, who is dead now, demons take him. He got drunk one night and came after me with a knife. He cut me good, and I got a terrible fever. Kaetra nursed me through it, and I've never been the same. From the moment I opened my eyes and saw her sweet face worried over me, I loved her. Does it ever change?"

"No, it doesn't. It was the same way for me and my wife." said Fergus.

"You're married?" asked Balris.

"Yes, to a beautiful woman from Orlais. We have a son together, Oren." said Fergus. "I am waiting for news back from my home in Highever, and when the scout returns, I will leave as soon as I can. I can't wait to return to them."

Balris nodded. "I suppose our little village can't compare to your grand castle. You are some kind of lord, aren't you?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with your village. I like it here, quite a bit. I miss my family, though. And yes, I do have responsibilities to the people of my land. My father owns a very large estate, and I am next in line for Highever." said Fergus. "But back to your dilemma, I suggest patience. The first time I saw Oriana, I was smitten. She had this red silk dress on, simple, nothing like the ugly, lacy things the other girls at the ball were wearing. Her hair fell to her waist in this long, shimmering-"

"You saw her without her hair bound?" asked Balris sharply.

"Well, yes. People who are not Chasind do not usually braid their hair like you do." said Fergus.

Balris let out a low whistle. "No wonder you fell for her. I heard that grippa women were amoral, but man, you didn't have a chance."

Fergus looked at him strangely. 'I'd seen many women without their hair braided before her, and trust me, I didn't feel anything toward them," he said coldly, bristling at Balris's implied insult on Oriana's honor.

"Really? Just the thought of a woman with her hair all loose around her shoulders-that's enough to give me a cockstand." said Balris.

Fergus laughed himself silly at Balris's dreamy expression. Balris frowned at him.

"Wait, you weren't joking?" asked Fergus. "You've honestly never seen anyone without their hair braided?"

"No! I'm not married, am I?" asked Balris. "Chasind don't unbind their hair until they are married. Even then, they do not unbraid their family braids until certain signs are given."

"What are 'certain signs?" asked Fergus.

"Oh, there's lots of them. It is said that when two people are meant for one another, the world rejoices around them. Usually this is something like a rare bird appearing above them, or a long-dead tree blooming after they stand together under it." said Balris excitedly. "Only two couples in our clan have ever had it happen. I know it will happen for Kaetra and I, though."

"So most people never see another person with their hair completely unbraided?" asked Fergus. "Weird. How do they braid it in the back, then?"

Balris frowned at him. "It's not weird. You grippa are the weird ones, with your hair all wild. No wonder you are always fighting-all that hair everywhere would be enough to drive anyone crazy. Old women braid everyone's hair. Usually the women are weavers whose fingers are too stiff to work the loom anymore, but still nimble enough for braids."

Fergus stood uncomfortably. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I have never encountered this custom, is all."

Balris nodded stiffly.

"Who found me?" asked Fergus, changing the subject.

"I did. I was out, following the tracks of the dark ones to see where they were moving. I saw one of your men lying in the bushes, and then I saw-the rest." said Balris.

"I'm sorry they died. I can't imagine what I would do if the other scouts died like that." said Balris quietly. "I heard you moan, and I carried you back to the other scouts."

"So you are stronger than you look." said Fergus.

"Oh, shut it. No respect, I say." said Balris, smiling. "We agreed to take you back to camp, to see if the healers could help you. Seilra wanted to leave you there, but luckily for you, her vote was outnumbered."

"I always heard that the Chasind didn't like outsiders. How is it that you all speak Fereldan so well, and that you took me in?" asked Fergus.

"Ah, well, our clan is a bit different than the other clans. We see the advantages of trading with the grippa, and of allowing some to join our clan. We have a much more varied clan than most, and the strongest people, because of it." said Balris proudly. "We don't have any of the same problems the other clans do. None of our babies are born addled, or with bones that crumble at the slightest touch."

Fergus nodded. "Why does Seilra hate me so much, then?"

"Her mother and father were scouts, and were killed by some grippa lord for 'poaching' on his land. Land that our clan has hunted for generations." said Balris angrily.

Fergus shook his head. "I bet I know who it was. Arl Howe, right?" he asked.

"That's it! How did you know?"

"He's a friend of my father's, and he is always bragging about how his land is the most plentiful with deer, because he has a heavy hand with poachers." said Fergus.

"She was nine when it happened." said Balris. "Her uncle and aunt raised her. Kaetra's family."

Fergus nodded. "I can see why she hates me, then. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that happened to her. My family has always had a pretty good relationship with the Chasind who live on the northern edges of our land.

Balris cocked his head. "North, you said? Are you a Cousland?"

Fergus smiled. "I am."

"Oh, will the rest of the clan be happy to hear that! We were considering moving north because of all the darkspawn around, and the Cousland lands were where we were headed."

Fergus laughed. "Well, my friend, the Maker shined on us both when you found me."

Fergus spent the next week with Balris. Balris was atrocious with a sword, but the best Fergus had ever seen with a bow. Fergus patiently taught him the correct way to hold a shortsword, and some basic maneuvers. After a long session of being thrown into the snow over and over by Fergus, Balris tossed his sword into the ground in disgust.

"I'll never learn this. I don't need grippa tricks. My arrows kill just as easily." he muttered.

"Grippa tricks? Some of your clan uses swords." argued Fergus.

Balris grumbled to himself and picked up his sword. "I've never seen anyone fight like you." he said. "No one swinging such a large sword should be able to move so quickly. It's unnatural."

Fergus laughed. "That's what my sister used to say. If you think I'm fast, you should see her. She's only twenty, but she has nearly bested me once or twice."

"Seilra is faster than you, but she uses two daggers." said Balris.

Fergus heard the chatter of people around the clearing where they were sparring, and looked up. He saw the man who had greeted him his first night down from the trees, and waved him over.

"You wanted to spar?" he asked. "I'm feeling strong enough."

The man grinned. "I heard you were a Cousland. I don't know if I should. I wouldn't want to hurt such a fancy grippa."

Fergus laughed. "I think you should be more worried about me hurting you."

Fergus watched the man pluck a wooden sword from a stand nearby and charge. He easily sidestepped and swung lightly, driving the man forward, into the snow. The man jumped to his feet and charged again. Again, Fergus moved out of the way and watched the man sprawl.

"Don't come charging at me like that. Try faking me out." said Fergus. "Feint to the side, like this."

Soon he was giving daily lessons to a group of Chasind scouts, most of whom were much more skilled with bows than swords. They laughed at Fergus's attempts with a bow, and instructed him in turn.

Fergus was laughing with Balris one day, having been thorougly trounced by Tarris, when he saw Seilra watching them from the trees. He waved and she scowled, melting back into the trees.

Tarris's loud bellow of a laugh turned his attention back to the man.

"I haven't had this much fun in a fight in a long time, boy. I love the Chasind, hell, I AM a Chasind, but sometimes I miss seeing people who aren't. These guys are all masters of the bow, like the Dalish. They don't provide much in the way of sport with the blade. Even the ones who are good were all trained by me, and I know all their tricks." said Tarris.

"You know some dirty tricks, that's for sure." said Fergus, straightening his aching arm where Tarris had driven the pommel of his sword.

"That's what my wife tells me." boomed Tarris, and laughed.

Fergus laughed along, the big man's hilarity infectious.

"I had to learn to fight dirty. Pirates aren't known for their sense of honor, you know." said Tarris.

Fergus's eyes widened, and he felt his old childish enthusiasm for anything pirate wash over him.

"You were a first mate on a PIRATE ship?" he asked.

"Sure was. Twenty years, I sailed, though not all of it as first mate." said Tarris. "Sailed all around Thedas, looting and pillaging. Even tried to pillage your dear Highever. Your mother is Eleanor, right? Maker, what a woman." he said. "Gave me this for my trouble, then nursed me back to health. When I got better, the Sundown had already turned tail and sailed. We got to be pretty good friends, Eleanor and I. I even fancied myself in love with her, once. 'Course, that was before I met my Weilyra. Eleanor only had eyes for your father, anyway. " Tarris unbuttoned his shirt, and showed Fergus a wide scar that stretched from his left shoulder, slicing diagonally to his hips.

"Wow. I've never actually seen my mother fight, you know. I"ve heard stories, but she always refused to show me what she could do. Said she'd had enough of fighting, and hoped to never pick up a sword again." said Fergus.

"Oh, that's why she nursed me back to heatlh. I woke up to her praying and swearing over me. She apologized for slicing me up, even. I found out later she had tried to reform her fighting, killing ways after she married your father." said Tarris. "Some reform." he snorted. "Your father never wanted that from her, but she insisted that she needed to put aside her sword for good. She felt terrible remorse over some of the people she killed in the Orlesian Wars."

"I knew that. I heard her crying to the Revered Mother, once." said Fergus quietly. "She also worried that she had failed Katie and I, allowing us to be raised as warriors. She never wanted us to feel the pain of remorse she did. But, Couslands have always been fighters, as have Hochheims, her family. It is in our blood.."

Tarris nodded. "You're nearly half the warrior your mother was." he said.

Fergus lunged out to sock him in the stomach, and Tarris laughed, catching him in a headlock.

"How did you meet the Chasind, though?" asked Fergus, gasping for breath after the big man released him.

"Well, the Sundown had left, and I figured her next stop would be near South Reach. I walked for many days, along a road, by myself. I was almost to South Reach, at the top of a hill, when I looked down, and saw bandits dragging something into a cave. I followed them, hoping to steal whatever they had. I crept closer, to see what they were dragging. What they had was my Weilyra, who was spitting and twisting like a wet wildcat. She looked up at me, and when our eyes met, I knew I would rush in and take on any number of men to free her. I planned my assault, set a couple traps, and waited for nightfall. I burst in, expecting to be some great hero, and there was Weilyra, calmly eating a piece of bread and rifling through the bodies of her assailants. She actually laughed at me! She thanked me for my concern, and offered to share the loot with me. I refused, my pride hurt, you see. I stomped out of there, mad as hornets. I walked a little ways down the road, so mad that I didn't see the rest of the bandit gang, and blundered right into their trap. One o'them was about to cut my throat when he fell, an arrow in his throat. I've never seen arrows fly so fast. The bandits fell around me, and I expected to see a group o'Dalish come out of the trees, though I couldn't figure why they would save a human. Instead, Weilyra walked out, her eyes glowin' like an avenging angel. She told me that she had saved me from my own stupidity, and that I now owed her my life. I couldn't argue with that, y'know. She demanded that I follow her, and I've been following her ever since." said Tarris.

Fergus smiled. "So she's a scout, then?"

"She's the other senior scout. Best there is." said Tarris proudly. "Why she chose me, I don't know. Said something about signs. Signs are real important to the Chasind. I've learned a few of them, but I still don't have a good grasp on it."

"I heard Balris mention them. I'm interested in learning what, exactly, they consider signs." said Fergus.

"Ask Weilyra. She loves telling everyone all about how her and me are fated to be together. Can't say I disagree w'er. What we have is special, no doubt about it," said Tarris, his blue eyes watery.

Fergus looked at him incredulously, and looked away. Was this huge pirate actually crying over the love he found with his wife? Fergus shook his head, smiling.

"Speaking of m'dear wife, she and I have agreed that you are ready." said Tarris.

"Ready for what?" asked Fergus.

"Ready to join the scouts. No point in you remaining idle around the village." said Tarris.

Fergus nodded. "That makes sense. I have been itching to do something besides gossip with weavers all day."

Fergus saw Balris walking further up on the trail, and ran to catch up with him. He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. They walked together, back to the village. Fergus climbed the ladder to the treehouse he shared with Balris, the height no longer bothering him. As long as he didn't look down, of course.

The next morning, Balris awakened him. "I have good news, my friend. The elders have given their permission. You are coming on your first hunt with us."

"When?" asked Fergus. "Tarris told me I can join the scouts."

"Day after tomorrow. Better practice with your bow, huh?" said Balris, grinning.

Fergus aimed a sleepy kick at his friend, who jumped out of the way. Fergus climbed down into the village and saw Kaetra standing by a fire.

"Hi, Kaetra." he said, and she jumped, startled. "How are you? Thank you for the collar you made Johnny. He hates it, but it makes him much easier to catch."

Kaetra smiled, her cheeks turning pink. "I'm glad you like it. Would you like to come with me today to gather plants? Some plants only grow during this time, right before the thaw."

"Sure. Let me put on my armor."

"It's only a walk in the woods." said Kaetra.

"You can never be too careful." said Fergus. "Humor me, okay?"

Kaetra nodded.

Fergus appeared a few minutes later. "Okay."

They walked through the forest, which was silent. The silence made Fergus uneasy, and he looked around. He didn't see anything, and he tried to ignore the unease in his stomach. Kaetra chattered away as she dug through the snow, plucking plants and stuffing them into the bag on her back. She bent over in front of him, and Fergus saw movement behind her. Fergus drew his sword, just as a hurlock crashed through the trees.

Kaetra screamed and ran behind Fergus. Fergus killed it with a mighty blow, cutting off its head. He heard a rustling to his left, and he threw Kaetra to the ground as an arrow whistled over their heads. Fergus rolled and got to his feet cautiously, then leapt forward. He swung his sword, and knocked down the genlock hiding in the underbrush. Fergus thrust his sword down into its torso, and it sputtered, and fell still.

Fergus went back to Kaetra, who was trembling, crouched on the ground. He bent to her, and put an arm around her shoulders while he listened for more darkspawn. Soon, the birds began singing again, and he relaxed.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. She nodded, wiping tears out of her blue eyes. "Good." he said. "See, I knew there was a reason I should bring my sword."

Kaetra stared at him, and he cocked his head. "What?" he asked.

Kaetra threw herself forward, pressing her lips against his. Fergus fell back, and she was on him, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. He felt his body stir, and he gasped. Thoughts of Oriana filled his head, and he pushed Kaetra off.

"No." he said.,

"Why not?" she asked. "You want to."

"Because I have a wife, Kaetra! A wife and a child! No matter what my body may like to do, my heart does not. I am not that kind of man." said Fergus, getting to his feet.

Kaetra hung her head. "Of course. I am so stupid. I'm sorry, Fergus. You must think me some kind of wanton, acting like that."

Fergus patted her awkwardly on the head. "No, it's okay. Forget about it."

They walked silently back to the village, and Fergus felt sick. Had he led her on? He remembered her gifts, her smile following him wherever he went. He groaned. What kind of fool was he? Thirty years old, and still oblivious.

As they approached, Fergus saw Seilra and Balris come running down the path.

"We heard a scream! Is everything okay?" asked Balris. He saw the blood covering Fergus's armor, and paled. "Kaetra? Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Balris. Dark one ambushed us, but Fergus killed them. He was wonderful." said Kaetra, her tan skin flushed.

"It was nothing." said Fergus.

Seilra looked from Kaetra to Fergus, her brown eyes speculative. "Let me get you back to your house, Kaetra." she said, and grabbed her by the arm, leading her away.

Balris looked at Fergus. "Dark ones? How many? This close to the village?"

"I think they were scouting. There were only two." said Fergus. "I should alert Tarris and Weilyra, anyway."

Fergus recounted his story, leaving out the part where Kaetra had accosted him. Tarris nodded. "We'll step up our patrols, and make sure the great Horde is not nearby. If it is, our people have been ready to move for months." said Weilyra.

Fergus took his leave, and walked back to his house. He saw a light in the window, and knew Balris was inside. He climbed the ladder, and smiled when he heard Johnny's excited scratching at the door. He was just about to climb onto the platform in front of the door when the door swung open, and hands grabbed his shoulders. Balris dragged him inside, and his fist connected with Fergus's face, sending stars behind his eyes.

"Wonderful, she says. Fergus is wonderful." shouted Balris. "I took you in, I treated you like my BROTHER and you betray me this way?"

"What are you talking about, Balris?" asked Fergus, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"Seilra told me what happened in the woods. Kaetra kissed you! How could you do this? To think, I petitioned the elders to consider letting you join my family" shouted Balris, his face anguished. He aimed another blow at Fergus. Fergus rolled out of the way and threw Balris into the wall, shaking the hut.

"I didn't kiss her back! I had no idea what she was planning! You can't blame me for this." said Fergus.

"Oh yes, I can. Taking her little gifts, smiling at her whenever she looked your way." said Balris.

"I was just trying to be friendly to someone who saved my life! Nothing more! Think, Balris. Think about what I told you about Oriana, my wife. I love my wife." said Fergus. "As soon as the snow melts, whether that messenger returns or not, I will leave for Highever."

Balris's wild eyes calmed a little. "I guess that makes sense. Seilra made it seem like you planned it out to humiliate me, and I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. The thought of her kissing you-it just turned my mind into a red haze, and all I wanted to do was punch your face in."

Fergus laughed, his split lip stinging. "I understand, Balris. For what it's worth, I'm sorry if I encouraged her in any way."

Balris smiled sadly. "Nah, you didn't. I just hope she doesn't feel for you what I feel for her, or else I'll never have a chance."

"Don't give up, 's worth a little perseverence." said Fergus. "Now, I have a certain gossiping bitch to attend to."

"Seilra? She deserves it." said Balris. "Though I'm just as bad, believing her like I did."

"She knew you would react like you did." said Fergus. He ripped open the door and climbed down the ladder, his heart beating an angry thrum in his chest. He saw Seilra across the scout fire, laughing with Tarris. Fergus stormed over, and grabbed her roughly by the arm.

"Tarris, if you could excuse us." said Fergus, and Tarris nodded, melting into the trees.

Fergus turned to Seilra.

"If you were a man, I would beat you for what you did." said Fergus.

"Oh, I see that Balris found out about your little betrayal?" sneered Seilra.

Fergus shook her. "How dare you lie to him like that! I thought you loved Kaetra! You knew he was in love with her, and you tried to make it seem like I seduced her? You nearly ruined any chance they had with your vicious gossip! I expect you to do everything you can to humiliate ME, but how could you do it to your own cousin?" he shouted.

"I can't help that you prance around the village like you own it, showing off every chance you get." shouted Seilra, who pulled out of his grasp. "You don't belong here, even if people are enthralled by you."

"Jealous of the friendships I've made, Seilra? I see you aren't very popular around here! Couldn't be because you act like a miserable, snooty bitch who thinks she's above the rest of us. People like me because I am nice to them, because I listen without rolling my eyes when they talk." said Fergus. "You act like you're the only one who's ever lost someone, and I think your bitterness over your parents has rotted you inside."

Seilra gasped, hurt showing on her face for a second. Her fist flew out, and Fergus felt his nose break.

"How dare you say anything about my parents! You have no idea about who I am!" she shouted, her fists raining furious blows to his face and stomach.

Fergus grabbed her wrists. "I told you once to keep your hands off me." he said, his eyes black with anger. "Stay away from me, and keep your nasty gossip to yourself." Fergus saw Seilra turn away, and he felt a sick guilt twist his stomach. "I am sorry about my remark about your parents. That was out of line." said Fergus, dropping her wrists. "No one deserves to be talked to that way."

Seilra's eyes widened and filled with tears. "Don't patronize me." she sneered, and she stumbled toward her house.. Fergus watched her wipe her eyes, and felt sicker still. His parents had raised him better than to shake a woman and scream in her face, better than to bring up her worst memories just to win an argument.

Fergus turned sharply and went back to his house.

Balris greeted him, and gasped when he saw Fergus's bloody face.

"Did she do this?" he asked.

Fergus nodded. "I deserved it." said Fergus.

"How did you deserve it? Listen, I don't blame you for what Kaetra did." said Balris.

"Not that. I lost my temper and said something terrible." said Fergus. "I don't know what it is about Seilra; every time I talk to her, I can't control my temper."

"She has that effect on a lot of people. She can be a right nasty bitch." said Balris. "Here, let me help you clean your face." Balris wiped at the blood on Fergus's face. "I should have known what would happen when Kaetra took you in. It often happens when one person nurses another back to health."

"What do you mean? Why did she take me in, anyway? Why not the senior healer?" asked Fergus.

"Kaetra was an apprentice healer before I found you. In order to move up in rank, she needed to complete a special project. Most of the other healers write a new recipe, or cut up great swaths of cloth for bandages. But my Kaetra has always been an over-achiever, and when she saw you, she begged the senior healer to allow her to nurse you back to health.

"So my life was trusted to an apprentice? Great." said Fergus.

"Not just any apprentice! Kaetra's been offered the journeyman rank time and again, but always refused it, saying she wasn't ready yet. Anyway, the senior healer checked in on you every day at first, until she saw what a fine job Kaetra was doing. I heard the senior healer was even thinking of making Kaetra chief journeyman healer, for her work on you. She spent nearly every moment with you, those three months."

"I guess her little display wasn't entirely without cause, then. Still, I couldn't have made a pretty picture, delirious and drooling." said Fergus. "If she liked those things, I'm sure she'd be all over you."

"Ah, shut it before I set your nose to bleeding again!" said Balris good-naturedly. "Go to sleep."

Fergus heeded Balris's command.

He awakened to shouting.

He looked out the window and saw an unfamiliar man, a scout, judging by his armor, stumble into the village, supported by two other scouts.

The messenger. Fergus flew down the ladder.

"What happened to you? " asked Tarrris of the bedraggled scout. "It looks like you've been tortured."

"I have been. I spent the last month in the dungeon at Highever." gasped the scout.

Eyes turned to look at Fergus.

"What? Why would they put you in the dungeon? " asked Fergus.

"The Couslands no longer have control of the castle. A different grippa lord, Rendon Howe, now owns it." said the man.

"That can't be right!" said Fergus. "What about my mother? My wife, my son? My sister?"

"They're all dead." said the man. "Rendon Howe waited until you left for Ostagar, and then he and his men massacred everyone in the castle."

"You're lying!" shouted Fergus. He could not believe they were dead. Not his mother. Not Oriana and Oren. Not Katie.

"Look at this." said the man, and held out his leg. "Do you recognize that mark?"

Fergus peered at the mark on his leg, then recoiled when he recongized it as a brand. Arl Howe's signet, burned into the scout's skin.

"Why did he do this?" asked Fergus.

"Because I wouldn't tell him where you were, or if you were still alive." said the scout. "I never would have escaped, except his son came for a visit. Thomas. Thomas was very upset with what his father had done. He let out all the prisoners, just to spite his father. I managed to hide and make my way here."

"No. No." said Fergus, backing away. The facts stared him in the face. There was no way this Chasind scout would know the name of Rendon Howe's son, or would have his signet ring branded into his leg, unless what he was saying was the truth. Fergus stumbled to a nearby bush and retched.

"I'm so sorry, Fergus." said Balris, putting his hand on Fergus's back. Fergus shook his hand off.

"Sorry for what? He's lying! I'll find them!" said Fergus. He climbed up to his bed, and began putting on his armor. Balris followed him.

"Where are you going? You can't go to Highever. They'll kill you. Camis says there is a bounty on your head. You won't get very far." said Balris.

"I have to see for myself. I have to know." said Fergus raggedly.

"Wait until tomorrow, okay? We'll find someone on the road and ask them when we go out hunting." said Balris.

"No." said Fergus. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and everything went black.

Fergus awakened in the morning and jumped up. Balris and Tarris sat nearby, watching him.

Tarris stood, blocking the door. "I want your promise that you won't try to leave for Highever." he said.

"I can't promise you that. I have to see if the scout was lying. If he isn't, then I have to kill Howe." said Fergus. "He killed my family. My mother, my wife, my sister, my son-" his voice broke on the last word, and he dropped his head into his hands, weeping. "I left them, and he butchered them. Forgive me, Oriana. Forgive me." Fergus wept for a solid hour, the room silent except for his gasping sobs.

Fergus felt Balris's awkward patting on his back. "Come, we will verify Camis's story." said the man, pulling him to his feet.

Fergus pulled on his boots, his gaze blurry with unshed tears. He walked with Balris and Tarris into the trees, his body numb. They walked until the sun was at its highest point in the sky.

"The road is right ahead." said Tarris. "Look, a man is walking with a cart. Perhaps he has news."

Fergus looked up, and hurried forward. He hoped that somehow, Camis was lying.

The man started when Fergus appeared next to him. "I don't sell to Wilders. Get out of here." he said.

Fergus held his hands up. "I'm no Wilder. Listen to my voice." he said.

The man's scowl lightened. "No, I guess you're not. You sure dress like one, though, with those funny braids."

"I am just a traveller, like you, hoping to escape the darkspawn." said Fergus. "I have been scouting in the Wilds and have not seen civilization for a while. What is the news?"

"Well, aside from the darkspawn, which you already knew about, the nobility has its panties in a twist again. Right around the time Ostagar happened, certain other nobles decided to make a power play. Damn convenient, if you ask me." said the merchant.

"What do you mean?" asked Fergus.

"Arl Howe, you know, of Amaranthine? He waited until Highever's soldiers were on the road to Ostagar, and then slaughtered everyone inside. From what I heard, no one was left alive." said the merchant, a bloodthirsty grin on his face.

"Oh. Why would he do that?" asked Fergus, schooling his face in impassivity.

"For the land, I reckon. The Couslands were the largest landowners in Fereldan, and one of only two Teyrns. Otherwise, I suppose the old Arl wanted to get a chance at Lady Cousland. Not many men who wouldn't like to get a piece of that, even with her getting up there in age. Course, from what I hear, her daughter was an even riper peach, if you know what I mean. Shame about all that beauty getting wasted with a blade. Even dead, I'm sure either of those two snooty bitches would have been a good time." said the merchant, laughing nastily.

Fergus, who had been barely holding himself together throughout the greasy merchant's speech, drew his dirk. and thrust it forward into the man's gut.

The merchant looked down, his eyes wide. "Why?" he asked.

Fergus kicked the man to the ground and twisted the blade viciously as he pulled it out. He then pulled the sword from his back and drove it down through the man's back. The merchant twitched, blood running from his mouth.

Fergus heard Balris and Tarris approach, and he turned. "I-I don't know what came over me." said Fergus.

"I do. I heard what he said. I would have killed him myself, if you hadn't." said Tarris. Balris nodded. "Well, let's get this body off the road. I don't think anyone else will be coming along soon, but I don't want to have to explain this." said Tarris, and started dragging the merchant. Fergus picked up the corpse's feet and they swung it into the ditch. Balris kicked snow over the body and Tarris inspected the cart.. "Ahh, brings me back to my old days of murderin' and pillagin." sighed Tarris nostalgically.

"Who knew that hunting men could be so very profitable?" asked Balris. "Oh, I remember. I knew!"

Fergus looked at him strangely. "You mean you've done this before?"

"Picked off a merchant who made life hard for the Chasind? Sure." said Tarris. "Usually, we take more care to hide the body, but with all the darkspawn about-well-let me just say that the Chasind will hardly be the first suspects."

Fergus shrugged and picked through the cart. He found a nice pair of leather gloves and held them up. "I'm taking these." he said.

"Sounds good." said the others. They dragged the cart into the woods, and covered it with tree baums for camoflage.

"Now, we hunt more challenging prey." said Balris. "The deer herd beds down up here around midday. If we hurry, we can catch the last of them."

They crept through the woods. Fergus concentrated on one step after another, grief threatening to overtake him if he allowed himself to think any further into the future. He had been looking forward to this hunt for weeks, but now any excitement rang hollow against the dead feeling in his chest. Fergus heard Balris's excited whisper, and looked up to see two deer pawing through the snow to the grass below.

Fergus raised his bow and slung an arrow. He looked at Tarris, who nodded. Fergus aimed, and his customary prayer to the Maker went unsaid. The arrow flew true, and the deer dropped.

Balris ran ahead. "Nice work, Fergus! You killed her cleanly." he shouted.

Fergus nodded, and bent to the deer. He gutted it, steam from its belly rising in the cold air. He buried the entrails next to a tree, which was customary, and slung the deer over his back.

"We can help you with that." said Balris. "You don't have to carry it all the way back-it must be heavy.

"It isn't all that much." said Fergus. "I've carried much heavier packs."

They walked back to the cart, took what they wanted, and headed home, reaching the village at sundown. Balris and Tarris chatted, but Fergus remained silent. When they walked into the village, Fergus saw the pitying eyes of the villagers on him. He knew then that they all knew what had happened in Highever. He avoided their glances, and sat in front of a fire, warming his hands.

Kaetra pushed a plate of food into his hands. "Eat." she commanded.

Fergus obeyed woodenly, not tasting the food he put into his mouth. When he was finished, he washed off his plate, then set it down. He climbed to his bed and stretched out onto it, staring at the ceiling. The tears that had been threatening all day refused to appear. Instead, he felt numb. He thought of his wife and son, and their faces seemed distant. Fergus stared into the darkness, feeling as dead as the wood his house was built from. He did not sleep that night. The next night, he had nightmares about Oren crawling to him, a sword sticking from his back. He awakened to Balris shaking him.

"It's just a dream, mate." said Balris.

Fergus turned away. His sleep did not improve over the next week, and he stumbled through his days, numb to the world around him. Slowly, he began to realize that he could never return to Highever. If he tried, he would only die in the attempt, and worse, lead Howe's men back to the village.

Balris tried to cheer him up, but Fergus could not even muster fake laughs. Fergus hated seeing the pity in the other villagers' eyes. Nearly every morning, he found some sort of gift outside his door, usually food or socks made by some sympathetic villager. He thew the socks into a pile under his bed.