Disclaimer: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront!

When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale.

Primary musical theme for chapter: Hymn for the Missing by Red

Thanks to all my new readers, and to my wonderful Lady Beta artemiskat.

-Frayed One

Chapter Four: Adrift

She was there in his dreams again, same as always.

He could hear her voice drifting through the wispy haze of The Fade, but she remained intangible, just beyond his reach.

Tonight, his meandering search for her became frantic. There was something in the tone of her voice, something that turned what was normally an aching desire simply to see her again, into a desperate, demanding need that tugged directly at his soul.

He jolted from sleep to a sharp rap on his door and had to work to slow his breathing and calm his racing heart. His body was drenched in sweat; the blankets twisted around him as though he had been thrashing about.

He ran his hands through his hair, turning to slide his legs off the edge of the bed and reaching for the linen pants he'd left hanging over the corner chair the night before, pulling them up over his hips and going to answer the door.

"You alright? You look wretched…" the soldier observed, his forehead creasing in concern as he took in Nathaniel's dishevelled appearance and thrust forward a letter into his hand, "Missive for ya. Looks to be from yer father."

"I'm fine, thanks," Nathaniel insisted, knowing the solder would simply let it drop, the people of the Free Marches had learned long ago how little he desired to discuss his personal life.

He took the letter, flipping it over to verify the Howe crest was indeed pressed into the wax at the back, and closing the door behind him before popping the seal and starting to read.

Nathaniel,

It is difficult to relay this news to you, but I thought it best that you heard it from me rather than through the waves of gossip that will undoubtedly find their way to your shores.

Bryce Cousland has revealed himself to be a traitor to the crown. He has been in communication with the Orlesians for years and intended to sell Ferelden out to the highest bidder, and likely would have succeeded were it not for the investigations carried out by Teyrn Loghain and myself.

I have been charged with the task of ensuring that the Cousland family is brought to justice. The penalty for high treason is death, as you well know. As of this evening all life within Castle Cousland has been snuffed out. Only Fergus Cousland managed to survive as his father sent him ahead to Ostagar before my men could secure the castle.

I apologize, my son. I know you cared for the Cousland girl at one time. I hope that, perhaps, knowing that she and her family were such a stain upon the face of Thedas will help you to put her memory behind you once and for all.

It is important that you remain in the Free Marches where you are safe and continue your studies. I will contact you again soon with further instructions.

Father

Nathaniel collapsed on the bed, his legs refusing to hold his weight any longer, as his entire body began to tremble so hard he was certain it would break apart from the force of it.

Elissa couldn't be dead. Surely he would know. Surely he would have felt the ties that bound them together sever completely instead of tugging at him again, flaring back into a stabbing, searing pain instead of the dull ache they had finally retreated into a month after she ended their relationship.

He reached up and ran his thumb across the smooth metal of the necklace he still wore. The chain had broken when he'd ripped it from his body in anger the night after he received her letter, but he'd restrung it on a leather cord and slid it back on moments later – unable to bear not feeling the cool weight of it against his skin.

Something was wrong, he couldn't explain it – but he felt it deep within his very core.

If she were truly dead, he would have to see it with his own eyes. He would have to have absolute proof.

He knew his father would be angry, furious even, if he discovered that he chose to defy him, but Nathaniel simply didn't care. Whatever the consequences, he would suffer them if they came.

He stuffed a few things into a light pack, dressed in his armor, and made his way to front gate intending to seek passage back to Ferelden on the first available ship