He enters the order, and they pair him up with another recruit. Same age, just been with the Chantry longer. The other boy smiles often, jokes far too much for something so serious, as he gives a tour of the place.
"Watch out for Sister Mary over there. She's mean with a switch."
He takes his studies seriously, though his mind wanders. The other boy, though, doesn't. He glowers as the other boy sleeps or runs from classes, laughing all the while, and his pride keens at how the other boy manages to knock his sword out of his hand during their first practice bout.
"Whoa, did I do that? Wonder how much luck I lost there."
After a while, he notices the other boy's smiles are all different. All the same shape, but the meaning behind them changes it entirely. He asks, one day, in between classes the other boy skipped, why.
"Eh… it's nothing much. I just don't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry."
He receives things from home. Letters. Sweets. Things to remind him that though the Order is his new family, he hasn't lost his old one. But as months past, he notices the other boy never gets anything. While everyone else boasts, the other boy sits in the corner, watching. One day, he shares his precious candy, and receives the brightest smile he's ever seen.
"Wow, thanks! I never had sweets before!"
He shares more of his sweets, and notices how others treat the other boy. Part of nothing, shunning them. And while he receives praises nearly every day, he notices the other boy never seems to get anything but scoldings, sometimes for only the slightest of reasons.
"Ah, I'm used to it. Say, what do you think about replacing the Mother's snacks with cheeses?"
The first time he sees the other boy cry is a few days after the announcement. King Maric is dead, long may King Cailan reign, or so the shouts go. The other boy is in the farthest corner of the Chantry, sobbing into his knees as he curls into himself. He's not certain what to do, and coughs awkwardly to catch his attention.
"Huh? Oh, hey. Sorry. I found out my dad died and just started weeping. Pretty pathetic, huh? I haven't seen him since I was nine, and I barely saw him before that! Haha…"
He excels in his studies, and promotes from recruit to Templar. During the vigil, though, he thinks of the other boy, his… friend? He isn't sure where he stands with the other boy, actually. They just looked after each other. Would that be friendship? The answer eludes him even after he takes his vows.
"Congrats! Careful not to let anyone tease you! You're an easy target!"
They exchange rudimentary letters when he leaves, assigned to the Circle Tower itself. They are simple things, talking about things they've seen, but avoid the obvious things. At least, until he is asked to attend his first Harrowing, and is forced to cut down the mage who failed. He writes a letter soon after, hands still bloody, and sends it before he can think twice.
"These herbs help with sleeping, and this medicine is good for headaches. Imagine people in their underwear if you start feeling shaky!"
He meets the other boy again years later, after the Tower falls and he can't see mages the same way, even the beautiful girl he had an ill-advised infatuation of. He rambles, tugging at his hair, shouting and holds back sobs, and knows he shouldn't. The other boy is no longer a templar, but a Warden, and has bigger things to worry about. And yet…
"You want a hug? A shoulder? A silly story?"
He's in Kirkwall by the time the other boy is crowned king of Fereldan, ruling with his Warden Queen, the Hero of the Fereldan. Too many nightmares. But perhaps they only get worse here, where he's twenty and somehow Knight-Captain. He sends a letter of congratulations, and a small bag of sweets.
"My favorite! How did you know? Hope things are going well. Write when you can?"
Years pass, and he becomes more and more unsure about things, more lost in the duty he chose. His Knight-Commander grows more deranged, and he hears more whisper of things he knows he doesn't, can't, approve of. And in the middle of this, he sees the other-boy, seven years king, and receives a wry smile.
"You look as lost as I used to feel. There's a place for you back in Fereldan, if you need it."
War erupts and he leaves the Order. He can't stand it any longer, fed up with the hypocrisy. For some reason, he's invited to join the Inquisition, to lead its troops, and he leaps at the opportunity to have something to do, as the withdrawal symptoms and pain kick in and he's sometimes left gasping for air. It's during one of his bad days, a letter appears, with a small bag of candy.
"Your spymaster is an old friend of mine. I've a guess what you're going through. These helped me when I left."
During their information gatherings, he comes across a piece of information and immediately sends a letter, even knowing he shouldn't. He hides the information among other bits of gossip, including, to his embarrassment, his own blossoming relationship.
"Way to go! She seems like a good person. And thanks for telling me my wife is at least still alive. I bet she disappeared knowing I'd be stupid and follow her. Ah, well, duty first, right?"
Everything is over. The enemy vanquished, peace restored. He takes a well earned vacation to visit the old Chantry he studied out. When there, he sees the other boy, staring at the old practice yard. He's not surprised, and neither is the other boy.
"I guess us two lost boys finally found out places, huh? Come on. Let's go get a drink. I'm buying."