It was strange to say the least when Nathaniel got the letter from his father saying that he should get home as fast as possible from his training in the Free Marshes.
Even stranger was that he was not called to their home but to Highever. He could practically feel joy emanating from his fathers letter, saying something about a surprise and this would change their family's fortune, which he did not understand since they were already an respected family, but he did not ponder on it. His father was always right, and he knew better to not question it.
Nathaniel followed his father's order to return. He dressed up in the finest armor he had with the Howe shield hanging proudly on his back. He got it in the Free Marshes, when his trainer thought him to be ready to wear the honorable armor of the Marches and it suited him perfectly for his combat style. A dragonskin armor with dragonbone shoulderpads and leather pants, making him rather protected and flexible with his daggers and bow. It was perplexing being back in Ferelden, where he got used to warmer temperature to be back in a dull and windy landscape yet again. As he got to Amaranthine docks to make way to Highever, he heard alarming rumors and hoped them to be false.
The king had fallen in a big battle against the darspawn in Ostagar along with all the Grey Wardens and most of the army. Not that Nathaniel knew that much about the darkspawn but for them to defeat the king's army of that size, maybe another Blight was coming, which would be frightening with no leader to guide Ferelden. Loghain however had retreated in the right time in Ostagar and saved thousands of lives and was now considered a hero. It was said Anora was the sole ruler, but her father was pulling all the strings to prepare and unite the country against the coming threat. He would have to ask his father about this since Loghain and he were good friends, and all these rumors were making Nathaniel confused.
He wondered if that was why he was called back home to meet up in Highever. They were good friends with the Couslands. He wouldn't be surprised if it would be an engagement party between the youngest Cousland and his brother, as he had an obsession with the girl. Nathaniel really didn't like his brother nor would he like it if this was the case. The last time Nathaniel visited was when he was twenty-two years old. Right before he was leaving for the Marshes. He remembered his sister Delilah and Thomas were more interested to spend their time in the family's library and read dusty old books while Nathaniel was with Fergus, sparring while his sister were watching them, mostly taunting Fergus.
She was eleven when he first met her. Pigtails suiting with her un lady manner, and her love for swords was really remarkable and perhaps frightening, although she couldn't not handle it due to the weight.
Second time, she was thirteen. Pigtails were replaced by a tight bun in her hair, her shapes becoming more female, and her temper changing to a raging witch. She was not the nicest person to be around, but it was still as fun to tease her along with her brother Fergus, making her throw vases at them.
It was during the third time, he couldn't help but to notice her as her. She was seventeen and he was twenty-two. It was when they met up at the gates. The Couslands greeted them, and he saw her in a silken tight dress, showing her curves so deliciously. Her face had gone from her pig face to high cheekbones, small nose and luscious lips suiting well with her heart shaped face. Her childish forms were diminishing rapidly. It had been four years since he had seen her, and he couldn't help be amazed by her beauty. It was the first time he had seen her without her hair being in any hairdo, making it so alive. The sun reflected beautifully her hazel hair. He was not the only one amazed, his brother eyes were fixed upon her, eyeing her up and down, and Nathaniel knew that his father wanted his elder brother to marry the Cousland girl to reinforce the relationship between the Howes and the Couslands. But it still didn't stop him from looking at her.
He also remembered that in the evening when he was ready to go to bed in his chambers in the castle that a knock was heard, and she stepped in. Her choice in the matter between him and his brother was clear and he didn't question that night with her, even if he knew it had to end and it could never be the two of them. His father would never allow that. The very memory was making Nathaniel tighten in his body.
He was riding on his horse taking the similar road up to Highever, but something seemed very off. He saw smoke rising from the castle and it smelled burned flesh all over. Even with the sun high up in the sky with no clouds, it could not cover up the foul stench coming from the castle. He looked quizzically at the people living outside the castle walls. The farming families serving the Cousland family. They forced their children inside as soon they saw Nathaniel on his horse, looking very afraid and tense, which made Nathaniel wonder even more what happened and what it was that his father was so proud off.
He tried ignoring the looks the villagers gave him as the gate to the courtyard of Highever opened. He thought he would meet up with Bryce and his father, instead he saw Howe soldiers inside and stationed all over the place and none wearing the Cousland crest.
They bowed down, muttering unimportant names for him as he got off his horse, "Where is my father and the teyrn?" He asked one of the soldier bowing.
"Sir? Don't you know? Your father is the new teyrn of Highever." The guard looked at him with surprise.
Nathaniel rose his eyebrows as his horse got taken away, and went to the palace door and opened them.
"No, no, no! Not like that, you incompetent fool!" He heard his father say scathingly to one of the servants, polishing a painting.
Nathaniel walked in with silent feet, gazing his surroundings, pondering over what used to be a familiar hall. The warmth and welcome Nathaniel once felt inside these halls, felt cold and hostile. The paintings that once were of the Couslands, landscape and their King Maric was now replaced by portraits of his proud father, mischievously smiling and the other dull paintings their family had.
Servants were hastily moving around the hall, heads bowed down as if afraid to look at his father. Either they were replacing furniture or paintings, taking away the memories that held here. Nathaniel started to have a very cold feeling in his abdomen about what might have happened here and he prayed that he was wrong.
"Ah, Nathaniel. I didn't see you." His father turned and held his hands behind his back. A normal father might have greeted their son more warmly. A happy father would have hugged him after a long time of absence to show that he had missed him. A proud father would not look at him as Rendon Howe did at this moment. But this was his father, and Nathaniel knew very well that he was the black sheep in his herd.
"Father," he replied respectfully, bowing his head in a nod.
"You look ghastly. You need to get cleaned and cut that bird nest you call hair. And by Andraste's sword, change into proper clothing. You are not in the Wilds anymore."
So much for a normal greeting.
"Yes, father." Nathaniel responded frostily, feeling nothing but frosty.
Yet he was craving for his approval. Craving to to be the son Thomas was. Always craving.
His father's lips twitched into a smile which he did not see often.
"Don't think I'm not happy to see you, my son. Are you not going to ask what has happened?" His father said, gesturing their surroundings.
"I am curious." Nathaniel responded curtly.
Rendon Howe smirked viscously, "Bryce Cousland was collaborating with Orleasans. He was giving up important secrets for his own gain. Such a loss, so we, the Howes had an opportunity to set things right, to prevent a disaster to occur."
Nathaniel remained passive, not really daring to speak. He had a very hard time to believe what was just said, but his father would never lie.
"Really? And what has it gained us?" He finally said.
"Are you blind or just playing stupid? We have been give Highever for my...generous contribution." His father smirked in a disturbing way.
"The Howes are finally having what we rightfully deserve. Proper respect and title."
"Were there any proof to The Cousland's collaboration?" He was to curious. This seemed surreal and nothing was making sense.
His father looked at him, his lips tightening, "My words is the only proof you need here, Nathaniel! Do you doubt me?"
"Never. I just find it unlikely that he would do such a thing."
"We all have dark secrets, and it is not surprising that greed can be the cause."
"True." Nathaniel agreed.
"Now, to more happier news. I told you I had a surprise for you. Do you wish to see?" There was something in his father's voice that was mocking. Malicious. Perhaps a test.
"Of course, father."
"Then follow me." His father said, turning to head to one of the exists. Nathaniel followed and they were walking to another house, that led down to the basement. By the odor, Nathaniel would have to guess it was the family's dungeon. His father took a torch that was hanging by the entrance and headed down the stairs with Nathaniel in tow. They got deeper in the dark lit dungeon hall
There were empty cells from what he could see until they got the end of the tunnel.
His father stopped ahead of one door, and put the torch in it holding above it. It was a man, hanging by chains, his head facing the floor. He only wore breachers, halfway destroyed, and he was covered in dried blood along with wounds and bruises. His hair was hanging by his shoulders, and his head was bent down. It was clear he was unconscious.
"This is Duncan, the Commander of the Wardens of Ferelden, or he was, we might say." His father chuckled.
Nathaniel was disgusted to see the man, visibly tortured from his father. It twisted in his stomach. There had been rumors about Rendon Howe and his love for torture, but Nathaniel had ignored it. There had been no reason to keep him, unless it was a plaything. To make make fool of the Grey Wardens. He knew that his father always held contempt for the Wardens and king Cailan.
"What is his crime?" He asked, hoping to get a sensible answer for his confused mind.
"His crime is convincing our dear king Cailan to believe in fairy tales about glorious battles which led him to his death." His father said with contempt.
"So the rumors are true? The king has fallen?"
"Yes, but now with Anora and Loghain ruling, we will unite more strongly against the Blight without the Orlesains and under a much better, controlled rule."
"However this was not my surprise." he said, gesturing to Nathaniel to look at the cell behind him. He wasn't sure what it was until his father hanged the torch on the other side of the dungeon. It was a woman hanging by similar chains as Duncan. She was in a simple, ragged, torn, grey dress. Even she had wounds and bruises all over her, and dried blood. Her dark hair was hanging, and was stained.
He didn't need to second guess who this was. His heart pumped at a surreal speed, making it hard for him to retain his passive stance. Adria Cousland...It was like all the air just got sucked out of the room, seeing her like that.
"All of the Couslands are dead except her and her bastard brother. I kept her around here, it was just not fun to kill her. I thought this was suiting fate for her. To be a serving dog licking the feet of others for once. No one will ever know its her or believe her if she decided to open that little mouth. The Cousland's name will be torn and forgotten once I am through with it."
He felt his father lay on his hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, but it barely registered. His eyes were focused on the woman in front of him.
Her head was down but Nathaniel saw that she was alive and very attentive to his father. His father chuckled as he took the keys from his belt and unlocked the door to her cell and stepped in,
"you are nothing but a whore, and oh, you will know your rightful place soon enough." Rendon Howe's voice was disgustingly sweet as he spoke slowly to the girl.
She didn't move, just hanging sloppy, letting the chains carry her weight. Rendon used another key on his belt to unlock the bindings of the chains he had on her hands and she fell with a thump to the cold, hard, stone floor. She made no attempt to go up just remained silent and still.
Adria Cousland was breathing heavily as she lay as nothing but a doll on the stone floor, listening to Rendon Howe's ranting about her unimportance and what a vermin she really was. The words hurt in the begin, only to sink in. It was a process for her mind to work out before accepting it. In the beginning she used to spit back right at him but it was in vain, so she decided to become quiet and having delicious daydreams about twisting Rendons Howe's neck off as he stood in front of her, ranting as usual. It hurt to breathe because of all her wounds but it was a necessity nonetheless, and she promised to keep herself alive until she would have her revenge. Something was different this time though, something smelled different in the air. She usually wouldn't pay any head, just keep her eyes shut and numb herself off reality for a while. It had been weeks since her father and mother was murdered right in front of her eyes and she was dragged to the family dungeons. It had been tough, it had been vile and torturous. Everyday Howe came down to the dungeon with soldiers, torturing her with weapons unrecognizable, all for her to admit, to get her to say one word. The word, "master." She never caved in, and eventually the torture sessions lessened and she saw him less. She guessed it wasn't as much fun when the victim stopped responding.
Someone else was with him, she knew it to the unfamiliar voice she heard. It was a dark voice, and rasp. She wondered how her own voice sounded, by now probably not that much different as she stopped speaking days ago. Duncan had tried to comfort her through his own cell, but she didn't respond, because her hope was crushed. Her brain was in the process of shutting her off because of the events that had occurred and remain lifeless in her body until she could get her hands on the man that made her like this – it was now her soul goal in life.
It was one sentence that caught her attention, "She is yours. I would never give her Thomas now, not that he would want her. But you, my dear son, this should not be below your standards.I trust you to act like a Howe." And with that she heard the steps belonging to Rendon Howe diminish and walk up the stairs. I trust you to act like a Howe, if it was not Thomas, it had to be...someone crouched over her still body on the floor. A cold hand was pulling her brown hair from her face. She didn't respond, her eyes didn't move. She couldn't believe it, it couldn't be him.
No words were spoken, but his hand moved from very softly touching her face to her arm, down to her wrists.
"Adria?" The voice asked her. She blinked but didn't respond.
The man put his arm on her shoulder, pushing her gently on her back only to lift her up bridal style. She couldn't help but be shocked, and her body tensed up. The only physical contact she had had was punches and kicks. Her body went immediately to defensive, preparing for assaults but it never came. He hoisted her up, she wasn't helping much, just being a dead fish. Strength was a concept she did not know any longer. It had all been robbed.
Adria still wasn't looking at the man, just staring down her own body, as he was moving somewhere. Her eyes hurt as he got up from the basement, adjusting to the bright light. She refused to look at anything in her home, how everything was probably changed. She couldn't, now was not the time.
Eventually he put her down on something soft, it smelled fresh. It had to be a bed. He heard him getting out, but she couldn't move. She needed to recover to be able to do anything.
I swear, father, you will have your revenge as will I! Elissa screamed in her mind. She heard someone moving back in along with another person.
"I need you to heal her, and fix her wounds." She heard the very familiar voice say. They were touching her, and she felt head radiating on the more wounded parts of her body. The heat was overwhelming and she felt very tired all of a sudden, and fell in deep sleep.
Nathaniel stared at the woman sleeping in his bed. The mage he brought in had quickly healed her minor wounds, and lessened the pain on the more bad ones, and had bandaged them.
It was her, Adria...the woman that was just a dream to him. How, why...So many questions were racing through Nathaniel's insatiable curious mind. He would ask her once she would wake up but right now all he could do was to watch her sleep.
AN: Another evil plot bunny *sigh* however I do not have a beta for this one, so this can be updated fairly quickly as I don't have to wait or have studies to do atm. Let me now what you think.