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.

A/N: Thanks to all my readers, followers and my Lady Beta artemiskat.

Happy Reading!

-Frayed One

Chapter Twenty-Six: Within Reach

It became clear to Nathaniel as he made his way through the city of Denerim, that he was going to have to be exceptionally cautious with his every move. The city was crawling with his father's men, and any one of them would know him on sight and report his presence to the Arl before Nathaniel was ready to be known.

He'd made an attempt to get close to the Howe family compound, but that had been no use, and would have apparently gotten him no closer to finding his father as word among the guards was that Loghain had given Arlship of the city to him with the unfortunate demise of the previous Arl and the dishonorable behavior of his son, Vaughn.

With that knowledge, Nathaniel sat out toward the Arl's estate in the city – knowing it was a fool's errand, but wanting to at least get an idea of what he was up against. He barely got a few blocks before he stumbled across the very person whom he had come to the city in search of.

"My Lord… I-I bring word from the Antivan Crows…" the messenger stuttered, trailing along after his father who strode purposefully through the streets, leaving Nathaniel diving into the shadows of a nearby alley to avoid detection.

"I will assume, as I have no head on a pike or new bodies in the dungeons that the assassin has failed at his assignment…" Arl Howe growled between clenched teeth, coming to an abrupt stop and spinning on the messenger in anger.

"Y-yes, my Lord…" the messenger explained, trembling slightly. "The Wardens have evaded death a-and capture, and it appears that the young lady has somehow recruited the assassin to her c-cause."

"Has she indeed?" Howe chuckled, smiling appreciatively. "Touché, darling girl, touché… it appears you are going to be much more exciting than even I could have imagined…" The look that came over his father's face then made Nathaniel cringe, it was cruelty and lust wound together into something hideous – and it was nothing Nathaniel had ever seen before. "Boy, go back to the Crows, have them send another man… no, several of their best men to my estate… I'll have her yet…"

His cruel laughter echoed down the alleyway, long after both he and the messenger had disappeared – leaving Nathaniel unable to move as he thought about what he had heard. He felt, sick… he didn't know what to think. His father seemed off, and downright obsessed with – at the very least – the female Warden who had managed to elude him, and even to turn her would be assassin to her cause.

He had come to Denerim seeking answers, and had found only more questions. He needed more time to think, to process – before he could decide on his next move, and so he headed to the nearest bar – hoping to lose himself in the crowd of patrons, and perhaps a mug… or several mugs of ale.

Before he could enter the door, it slammed open in front of him… and, as was becoming a frighteningly frequent occurrence in his travels, someone stormed out of it. He dipped to the side quickly, making certain to avoid being seen should the angry patron be someone who knew his father and would recognize his face. While he hadn't been able to make out the woman who'd already brushed by, he instantly recognized the elf that trailed out behind her.

The assassin smiled at him, tossing a casual nod of recognition before jogging to the woman's side, and draping a graceful arm around her shoulders.

The Warden… he thought, watching the sway of her hips and the way the assassin lingered close to her as he whispered in her ear. Well… that explains what swayed him to her cause…

He thought about warning her what the elf that hung off her like a cloak was up to, that more like him were coming… but when the rest of her company flowed out through the doors, he realized she probably had more than enough people looking out for her. What use was one more?