AN: A warning. This is a bit of a darker tale than my previous submissions here. This story will contain some violence and rape, though I promise it will be resolved in a timely manner and not go on forever in an angst overload. If this type of story is not to your liking, please go read something else. There are lots of fluffy good stories on the site here.
Some tales simply demand from an author to be told and this is one of those for me.
My thanks to Cadsuane for her editing skills and to Bioware for its excellent world, all rights and properties to the world of Dragon Age belong to them, not I.
When the Bough Breaks
Chapter One
She stood on the battlements of Castle Redcliffe, looking out over the lake. Often she came here to watch the sun rise over the water. It was her favorite time of day, a time of quiet and contemplation when the rest of the keep was asleep.
A side effect of the Joining, one of many Duncan had neglected to inform her, was recurrent nightmares as she tapped into the group mind of the darkspawn. Even six years later, with the Blight ended, they still happened more often than she liked. Alistair had warned her that for some, the nightmares never stopped. She supposed she was one of those more "sensitive" types, as he called them. The nightmares often woke her and rather than wake anyone else, she often got up and went outside. The sunrise was a daily occurrence and she found the idea of the order of it, of the way it never changed, was soothing to her after the chaos of her dreams.
Teagan was still sleeping and she contemplated going inside to wake him with kisses, but he'd been very busy yesterday preparing for their departure today, and hadn't come to bed until late into the night.
Spring had arrived and the banns would be heading toward Denerim for their Landsmeet. Although she would be accompanying him to Denerim, she enjoyed their trips only because they meant a stop over at the Circle Tower to see Connor.
Muffin, her mabari, nosed her hand and she idly scratched behind his ears. He was getting on in years now and his muzzle was frosted with white. Though he still remained active and playful, he was slowing down.
"Back to Denerim again, Muffin," she whispered. His ears perked in her direction at the sound of her voice and his stumpy tail wagged. "I hate it there. Damn snobs."
The nobility had never accepted her place in Teagan's life. She was tolerated at best. There were some notable exceptions to this rule, and she did have her supporters, but on the whole most of them disliked her presence in their society. Arl Teagan was too well placed in it for them to say much though. The Chantry wasn't too thrilled about a free mage, Warden or not, either and she wondered just how long it would be before the grand cleric tried to put a stop to her presence here in Redcliffe. Just let the old biddy try….
"You like it though, don't you, boy?" she said with a grin. "I wonder how many more requests we'll get for you."
He was still in high demand from the kennel masters, and she had kept him busy as a stud following the war to breed puppies. Those mabari pups were highly sought since he was the Hero of Ferelden's dog and people wanted to touch something of that bloodline and fame. Even if they objected to her personally, that didn't extend to her dog.
With a sigh, she reentered the keep, passing by a guard who smiled and nodded. At least the people of Redcliffe looked fondly upon her. She smiled and nodded back and moved into the keep.
In their room, she found him still sleeping peacefully in bed. Grinning, she slipped out of her robes and into their bed and snuggled close to her lover, finding him warm after her early morning excursion into the cool spring air.
An arm went sleepily around her and pulled her close to him and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him pressed along her length.
"It'll be time to get up soon," he whispered. "Although I see you've already been up. Another nightmare, love?"
"Mmhmm," she murmured. Her hand slid along his body under the covers, feeling the play of muscles under them.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could do more to help you. You can wake me, you know."
She had long ago explained the cause of her nightmares as the Joining. At first, Teagan had been a bit upset to learn what it had taken from her to become a Warden—the sacrifice of years of her life, peaceful nights and children. But her being a Warden meant her being here with him, so he had accepted her explanations and was grateful to have her here in any capacity. Being a Warden had given her an opportunity to see Ferelden as she would never have had trapped in the Circle Tower. It had allowed her to be on hand in Redcliffe when he most needed her and to stop the Blight that had threatened everyone in the country.
So he had never voiced any dissenting concerns to her. He simply accepted how things were and was happy to have her with him. Neria was grateful for that and thanked the Maker every day for him.
"I know, love, but you were up so late I didn't want to disturb you. I trust you took care of everything though?"
"Indeed. Drew will watch over things here while we attend to the Landsmeet," he said. "You can get a couple more hours sleep. It's too early to go yet."
Sleep was the last thing on her mind.
"So, do we get an early start today toward the capitol or do you want to partake of some of the Grey Warden perks?" she asked.
"There are perks?" he responded, eyes closed.
"Of course, there are perks," she giggled and kissed the chest under her lips.
"Oh!" he grinned. "Those perks. You little minx, we get started and it'll be late afternoon before I even get out of bed. I know your wily ways now."
She clucked her tongue and sighed, her fingers tracing the line of muscles along his abdomen. "You know me all too well, love."
"I know you don't like Denerim, love, but we can stop over in the tower and see Connor."
"I know. I've missed him, and it'll be good to see him again."
He rolled over to face her and caressed her cheek, kissing her tenderly. "Connor will be glad to see you as well. I think my nephew has quite a crush on you."
"Jealous? Should I then be trading you for him when he's finished with puberty?"
He frowned in mock seriousness. "You'd better not, you minx! You told me you loved me. You're stuck with me now!"
"Lucky me!"
She giggled as he growled and pulled her into his arms. Running her fingers along his cheek and temples, she noted the touch of gray there now, and a few more crinkles at the corner of his eyes. But this was still the same Teagan she had met the first time she came to Redcliffe.
"I love you, Teagan," she whispered.
"I love you too, Freckles," he said and kissed the tip of her nose. "And you missed your chance at some extra sleep. You look too delicious this morning."
She laughed as he kissed her, and then her mirth died on her lips as his kisses grew deeper. Their departure was only slightly delayed by Teagan's dalliance with his mistress. No one said a word, glad to see how happy the Hero of Ferelden made the Arl of Redcliffe.
Their first stop on the way to Denerim was the Circle Tower where Teagan's nephew, Connor, had been studying for six years now. At sixteen he was nearly of an age when his apprenticeship would be done and his Harrowing would take place. Irving had told them he felt confident Connor would pass without much difficulty and said he hadn't seen such a promising student since Neria.
"This will probably be my last student, Neria," Irving confessed. "I'm too old to be chasing after young ones in the tower. I was too old when you came here, but I couldn't trust your education to any other mentor."
Neria smiled at her mentor. "I was quite the handful wasn't I?"
Irving smiled. "You were always getting into trouble. I'm glad Connor seems more serious about his studies. Teaching him has been a delight. I was thinking he might be ready for his Harrowing soon. Do you think you could be on hand to attend? I know it would mean a lot to him."
"Of course, Irving, just let me know when."
They stayed for two days and then headed off toward Denerim. In the carriage were Neria, Gwyneth, Teagan's four year old niece, and her nanny.
"When I grow up, I'm going to be a mage!" the little girl informed her nanny. "Just like Mama and Connor!"
Her nanny looked to Neria uncomfortably.
"We don't know who will be mages," Neria said. "We are born—it's not something we're taught. But we must be taught to control our powers because we can be very dangerous to people around us."
"I want to light candles on fire like Connor!"
She had been watching earlier as the boy had shown her his new trick, one Neria recalled as an exercise in fine control that Irving had taught her as well. It had been one of her last lessons before her own Harrowing. She prayed Connor would be ready for it.
Gwyneth climbed into Neria's lap and laid her chubby cheek on the elven woman's bosom. Neria ran her fingers through the child's honey colored hair, trying to settle her down a bit.
"Mama, when can I be a mage? And go study in the tower?"
Idly, Neria smiled, watching the passage of countryside outside the window, her mind ahead of them in Denerim already.
"Not for several years at least."
"But how soon?"
"I don't know, Gwyn. You may never be able to do magic. This would be a good thing."
"Boring. I want to do magic."
"Well, that won't be for a long while. I knew a few mages who didn't find out until they were teenagers. I was about five I think when I was brought to the tower. Jowan was a year or so older than I. We learned what Connor was about six years ago."
"How old was he?"
"Ten."
"How old am I now?"
"You're four."
"How many years until I'm ten?"
"You're pretty determined about this, aren't you?" Neria asked with a giggle.
"I want to do magic. How many years?"
"Well, you have this many years until you're ten."
Sensing an opportunity for an impromptu math lesson, Neria opened her little hand and showed Gwyneth her age now. Then she took her own hands and opened them, showing her six more fingers. She urged the little girl to count all the fingers.
"Eight, nine, ten. So, I will be ten?" she asked, more interested in the magic than the numbers.
"And how many more years?" Neria asked.
Gwyneth counted them out on Neria's hands. "Six years. That's forever," she wailed.
"Even more, Uncle Anders didn't show his powers till he was much older, this many years at least," she held up Gwyneth's other hand and opened it on all five fingers.
Gwyneth seemed to contemplate it and frowned as if she didn't like the answers she was getting.
After a bit, the swaying of the carriage lulled the child to sleep and Neria cuddled her. Gwyneth was adorable and precocious, and she loved her uncle and Neria as the parents she had lost too young to remember. If this were all the family she was to have, Neria was grateful. Teagan, Gwyneth and Connor completed her life and it was more than she had ever dreamed she would have growing up in the Tower.
Life was good.
