He proved to be right about Katy not staying away from Denerim – the next time Nathaniel and Levyn arrived at the townhouse, it was with Katy in tow. While Nate and the mage carried their belongings upstairs to the room that was designated as theirs during their stays, Katy hauled Oswyn off into the study for a private conversation.
"Anora told me the news, of course, to explain why she wanted to borrow Zevran," she said, and gave him both a delighted smile and a hug that nearly knocked him off his feet. "I'm so pleased for both of you! I'm sure she could have continued Queening quite well without any need for a husband, but... it's nice to have someone around to offer support, too, and to listen patiently when you really need to rant for a bit."
Oswyn smiled, quite certain that for her that someone was Zevran. They might merely be lovers and not actually in love, as she'd told him after he'd first met the elf, but it was clear that the two of them were friends, and both respected and cared for each other. "Has he come along with you as well?" he asked.
"Yes, though he's gone on ahead with our things to the Grey Warden compound at the castle. He said to tell you he'd be by tomorrow to work with Varel further, and to let me know if tomorrow wouldn't work for whatever reason."
"No, tomorrow should be just fine," Oswyn reassured her. "Levyn is tackling one of the harder jobs this time around; my knees. I'll be flat on my back for the next two to four days," he added with a grimace. "And thank you for sending him; it's making a great deal of difference for me."
Katy smiled again, looking pleased. "I just wish I had a dozen more like him. But the chantry is stingy about releasing mages to become Grey Wardens; I've only got the one healer right now. Though I have two others who are very good at the more destructive sorts of magics; a Dalish elf I picked up shortly after taking over as Arlessa of Amaranthine, and a Circle mage I managed to pry out of Greagoir and Ivring's hands a year ago. A pity Wynne wouldn't stay, she's an excellent healer but has a bad case of itchy feet. Last I heard from her, she was puttering around somewhere up in Nevarra, and thinking of visiting Orlais for a while."
"Wynne?" he asked, not placing the name at all.
"Sorry, I forgot you never met her. Female mage, old, and well-trusted by both Greagoir and Irving. She was instrumental in helping to retake the Tower, after which they allowed her to accompany me. Well, I say 'allowed' but she'd already made up her mind to do so, and I got the impression that both of them were rather used to giving in to her. I was happy to take her, of course, a healing mage is a huge boon. And for her age she's quite spry, she never had any difficulty in keeping up with the rest of us. I swear she could walk most trained foot-soldiers into the ground, actually."
"You sound like you miss her," Oswyn said, grinning.
Katy grinned back, and laughed. "I suppose I do. She could be an interfering old baggage at times, but she was also like everyone's favourite grandmother, and a very talented healer. She used to darn Alistair's socks for him. Not for anyone else, mind you, anyone else who asked got handed a darning needle and a length of wool, and told to learn."
She stopped talking abruptly, blinking rapidly. Oswyn reached out and squeezed her hand, waiting while she regained her composure.
"Stupid memory for me to tear up over. Holey socks!" she exclaimed, then sighed. "Anyway. So I'll let Zevran know it's fine for him to come over and train Varel further tomorrow, and I'll likely drop in at some point again myself over the next day or two, and we can have a good long chat while Levyn fixes you up. And I should get on to the palace before Zevran gets up to any of his usual mischief. I swear that Anora's Guard-Captain must hate the sight of Zevran by now – since it's usually in some place he has no right being, and with none of the guards knowing how he got there!"
Oswyn nodded, and accompanied her out to the front hall. Nathaniel and Levyn were just coming back down the stairs, and the group of them stopped to chat together there in the front hall. Which would, of course, prove to be the moment when Varel came in from an errand, Connor Guerrin tagging along at his heels. It being most of a week since the party, Oswyn had thought he'd returned to Kinloch Hold by now, else he might have thought to give Varel instructions modifying the boy's open invitation to drop in on him any time.
They'd all turned, of course, to see who had just come in. Connor saw Katy first, and smiled happily, then looked beyond her. He froze a moment, face draining of all colour, then flushed red with rage.
"You!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, and launched himself toward the mage, landing a pretty solid punch on Levyn's jaw and knocking him to the floor before anyone could move to stop him. Nate grabbed a hold of him first, hauling him back, and then Katy had her arms around him as well. He fought them, struggling and weeping and protesting incoherently, face distorted with both anger and his crying. Levyn lay sprawled on the floor, hand pressed to the side of his jaw and looking dazed.
They were lucky, Oswyn decided later, that Connor's first impulse hadn't been magic. Nor his second. "Shut the door," he quickly ordered Varel, hoping the altercation hadn't drawn any outside attention yet.
Katy was trying to calm Connor down, but he was hysterical, not even seeing who had hold of him, just struggling futilely, trying to get at the mage a second time. Oswyn moved forward, stepping between the two of them, and then reached out and slapped him. "Connor! Calm down!" he snapped, loudly. Connor froze again, and stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, then went limp in Katy and Nate's grasp, sobbing.
"Varel, help Katy get Connor to my room. Nate, see to Levyn," Oswyn ordered quietly, and led the way to his room.
It took considerable time to calm Connor down, Katy holding him and rubbing his back and making shushing sounds while he wept. Oswyn was beginning to think it might take some of his sedative to make any difference before the boy finally quieted, leaning heavily against Katy and sniffling. Varel, who'd disappeared off to check on the two wardens, came back into the room at last, bearing a pot of hot tea. Oswyn quickly put together a well-sweetened mug of it, handing it to Katy, and she coaxed Connor into drinking some. Finally he sighed, and sat upright, reaching for the cup.
"Sorry," he mumbled, flushing and looking down, unable to meet their eyes.
Oswyn reached out and squeezed his arm, then looked past him at Katy. "Go check on your warden," he told her. "Connor and I need to have a long talk, I think."
She pursed her lips slightly, then nodded, and rose to her feet. "Varel, could you bring me a pot of tea as well? To the study, I think," she asked as she started toward the door.
"Of course," the elf said, and followed her out.
Connor sniffled and drank more tea. Oswyn silently prepared himself a mug of it as well.
"What is he doing here?" Connor finally asked angrily.
"Healing me. He's a Grey Warden now – Katy recruited him after becoming Arlessa of Amaranthine, I'm told."
"He killed my father," Connor said accusingly.
"No, Connor... he didn't."
"He poisoned him!"
"Yes, he did. Though he didn't know it was poison. And your father survived it; so no, he didn't kill your father."
"He did kill my mother!"
"And saved your life by doing so, Connor." He frowned, thinking. Connor would have been so young when it all happened... "Has anyone ever told you the story of what happened? Everything, from why Levyn was there, to why your mother died?"
Connor glanced sideways at him, and frowned a little. "No," he admitted, grudgingly.
Oswyn sighed, then topped up both their mugs with tea. "It's going to be a long story," he warned Connor, then settled back in the seat. "And I only know what I've been told by others – mostly from Nate, a little from Levyn himself, and some from Katy."
"Jowan," Connor corrected harshly. "His name is Jowan, not Levyn."
Oswyn nodded. "It was Jowan, yes. He goes by Levyn now. Anyway... settle down and listen, and I'll tell you what I've heard about what actually happened."
Connor nodded, grudgingly, and settled back himself, mug clenched tightly in both hands.
"What I've heard is that when your mother found out you were a mage, she was frightened. You were her only son, and she loved you. She knew that if it was found out that you were a mage, you'd be taken away from her, sent off to the Tower, and would no longer able to be your father's heir, which would hurt both of them very much. So she decided to try and find you a teacher, a mage – an apostate, obviously – to secretly teach you how to control your magic; how not to use it. So that your being a mage could remain safely secret forever."
Connor nodded slightly in agreement. "And she found Jowan."
"Not quite. He was found for her, by someone else. Unfortunately someone had learned of her search for an apostate, and he wanted a spy in your father's household; more than just a spy, someone who could be used against your father to prevent him from interfering in this person's plans."
"Loghain?" Connor guessed.
"He may have been involved; I don't know whether he was or not. But I do know who most certainly was involved. Rendon Howe is the person who wanted a malleable spy in your father's household. When he learned your mother was looking for an apostate, he sent his men out to find one. You mentioned once that Lev... that Jowan had told you about his escape from the tower?"
"Yes."
"Well, Jowan was captured afterwards by templars. They were taking him to Denerim, where, they told him, he was to be executed as a maleficar. And then Howe's men tripped over them, and captured them – Jowan and the group of templars both. Howe had most of the templars tortured to death. He made Jowan watch, and then he tortured Jowan a little as well. And then Howe told him he had a choice; he could either follow Howe's orders, and maybe someday be allowed to return to the tower, or he could die the way the templars had."
Connor sucked in air through his teeth, looking appalled for a moment, then frowned angrily. "He should have told Howe no!"
Oswyn shrugged. "Perhaps. But he didn't know that Howe was going to trick him into poisoning your father; he thought he was just going to be there to spy on him. Perhaps if it had been a simple death he faced, he might have had the courage to tell him no. But it was no easy death those men had been given. So, between a choice of being a spy for Howe, or being killed in a very horrible way, he chose living. And then later, when Howe told him to see to putting a potion in your father's food or drink, and he was told it was merely something that would make Eamon ill for a little while, so that he'd stay in Redcliffe and not interfere in certain plans of Howe's and Loghain's – he had no reason to tell him 'no' then, either, did he?"
Connor was frowning now. "But he was safe once he was in Redcliffe. He could have told him no then, and not worried about dying for it."
"Really? When he was an apostate teaching a noble's son to hide his magic? And spying on your mother and father for someone else? He couldn't even be sure that he was the only spy that Howe had there. What do you think might have happened to him if Howe had seen to it that someone revealed that he was a mage? Or if Howe himself approached your mother, and blackmailed her over his presence there. For that matter – and I know this will be hard for you to hear – how do you think your mother planned to make sure that your tutor never spoke of your powers?"
Connor frowned angrily. "But, why would she..." he began hotly, then broke off.
"I'm not saying your mother planned to kill him; she may well have been innocent enough to have never even considered what a danger the tutor might be to you and her after his job was done. But whether she thought of it or not, Jowan most likely did by then; he wasn't that innocent himself any more, not after passing through Howe's hands. So... he did what Howe demanded. He slipped the potion into something your father ate or drank, thinking it would merely make him ill. And instead, it nearly killed him. Jowan ended up in the dungeons at Redcliffe Castle. He was tortured there, Connor, just as he had been in Howe's dungeons; I have to tell you that your mother's hands are not entirely clean in this matter, though her reasons, at least, were somewhat better. And then you contracted a demon, and things at Redcliffe got very ugly indeed."
Connor looked very unhappy now. He stared at the mug of cooling tea in his hands for a while, as if not really seeing it, then drank a couple of big swallows of it. "I just wanted to help my father," he said, in a very small tight voice. "I remember the guards dragging Jowan away, and I was so scared and angry... I didn't want to believe what mother was shouting, that it was him that had poisoned father. We were friends, he was the first tutor I'd ever had that I really liked; it was more like having a big brother than a teacher. I thought he liked me, too. I couldn't understand how he could possibly do something like that to me."
"He probably did like you. But he was terrified of Howe."
Connor continued as if not having heard his words. "I snuck into his room that night, and started looking through his books. I wasn't sure what I was looking for; that maybe if it was a poison he'd made, I'd find the recipe and there'd be an antidote for it right there as well. Or I'd find a book of easy spells, and there'd be one named 'how to save a man from poison', or something like that. I was just so desperate... and then there was a voice, offering to help, and I don't really remember much of anything afterwards. It was all like dreams, bad dreams, until I woke up one day weeks later. And mother was dead, father still ill, Jowan gone. So many dead, and me not even able to remember how, or what had happened in all that time. And then I was sent off to the tower."
Oswyn nodded understandingly. "And no one told you what happened while you were possessed?"
"Not really. They thought I was too young," Connor said bitterly. "I heard snippets, later, when people didn't know I could overhear what they were talking about. I know..." His voice broke. Tears started leaking from his eyes again. "I know I killed a lot of people."
"You didn't. The desire demon did."
"Using me. All my fault, for listening to her lies..."
"The fault lies with a lot of people," Oswyn corrected him. "You for listening; Jowan for his part in causing you to be so desperate that you were easy prey for a demon; your mother for thinking that hiding your powers was in any way safe. Howe, too, in very large part, for engineering the situation, though I strongly doubt the amount of disruption that actually occurred was any part of his plans. Now... Connor. Listen to me. I'm going to tell you about the hardest part of what happened. About how and why your mother died. All right?"
Connor nodded shakily. "All right."
"Katy Cousland came to Redcliffe in search of help from your father. She and her companions met Teagan at the chantry there, and saved the village from an attack by the undead that would otherwise have killed them. With so many of the undead the demon was controlling destroyed, your mother managed to sneak out of the castle the next day in search of help. She found Teagan and Katy; Teagan went in with her as a distraction, while Katy snuck in a secret way that Teagan knew of. On her way in she found Jowan, heard his story, released him and told him to leave. She wouldn't have done that unless she believed he was reasonably innocent, would she?"
"No," Connor agreed, after thinking about it for a moment. "She wouldn't have. Father always said the Cousland's were stiff with honour."
Oswyn nodded. "So... Jowan was free, he could have just run away right then and there. But he didn't; he stayed. He snuck into the castle after Katy, even knowing it was stuffed full of undead and a very dangerous place for him to be. Katy found out that you were being controlled by a demon, and managed to drive it off long enough to free your mother and uncle from its influence. They thought they were going to have no choice but to kill you. And then Jowan came forward, and told them that he knew of a way you might be freed from the demon, but that it would take a great amount of power, since it would involve sending someone into the Fade to confront the demon there."
"Like a Harrowing?" Connor asked, startled.
"Yes, very like that. Which meant it was going to take a lot of power to do; either as much lyrium as it takes for a harrowing, or a blood magic ritual to raise the amount of power needed. The Tower had already fallen by then; even if there'd been time to cross the lake, and risk the demon doing more damage while they were gone, there was no way of knowing if the tower could even provide the help and lyrium needed to do the ritual without blood magic. So... there was a choice to be made. They could do the ritual – which would require that someone die, to provide enough power for it. Or they could kill you, before the demon could cause any further harm."
Connor drew a long, shaky breath. "And mother wouldn't let them kill me."
"No, she wouldn't," Oswyn agreed, as gently as he could. "Katy didn't want to do it, especially as there was no guarantee that it would even work; but your mother demanded it. Insisted that she be allowed to die, since if it had any chance of saving you, she couldn't live with herself if she didn't do it. She loved you that much, Connor – enough to die for you."
Connor started weeping again, quietly this time. Oswyn moved closer, putting his arm around Connor;'s shoulders. It took a long time until he quieted again, until Oswyn released him and moved apart, and finished the story.
"It was a very hard choice for all of them; Jowan wanted to do his best to try and make right the things that had happened because he'd been too weak to tell Howe no; your mother wanted you saved at any cost. Katy finally gave in, and agreed to let them try. One of her companions was sent into the fade, and there managed to confront and kill the demon that held you prisoner. And when it was over with... you were free. Your mother was dead. And Katy told Jowan to leave, and this time he did."
"And now he's a Grey Warden?"
"Yes. She met him again, after the Blight had ended. He was helping refugees in Amaranthine escape from the darkspawn there. He was using the name Levyn by then; too many people had heard the stories about Redcliffe for Jowan to be a name he could use any more. And she recruited him; he's done good work as a Grey Warden ever since."
Connor sat looking thoughtful for a while. "You said he's here to heal you?" he asked eventually.
"Yes. He's doing what he can to fix some of the things that are wrong with me because of what Howe did to me. He can't fix all of it; I'm always going to be in some degree of pain, though it's already noticeably less than when he started. I'll still likely never hold a weapon again. Well, maybe a dagger," he corrected, lips twisting in slight amusement. "Though Maker help me if I'm trying to defend myself from anything but another cripple. But he's doing for me what he can. He's a good man, Connor, who did some bad things once. And has paid for them. He's determined that he will never forget the mistakes he made; or repeat them, no more than you will."
Connor had the grace to flush slightly at that. He started down at his hands for a long time, then sighed, and looked up. "Do you think... can I see him? Speak to him?"
"If you promise not to try and kill him, I'm pretty sure Katy would allow it," Oswyn said.
Connor shot him a look, lips twisting just slightly. "I promise," he said.
Oswyn smiled. "Then wait here, and I'll go talk to Katy."
Katy gave him a very long, thoughtful look, then turned and looked enquiringly at Levyn. The mage looked about equal parts hopeful and frightened.
"Your choice, Jo," she said softly.
"Please," he said, with such longing in his voice that Oswyn had very little doubt that the mage had cared for Connor as much as the boy had cared for him.
Katy nodded. "Privately, I think," she said, and turned to Oswyn. "Your room? Or in here?"
"My rooms would do – or better yet, the private garden in back of them. It's got very high walls separating it from the rest of the yard, and a good thick hedge, so unless they start shouting at each other or lobbing fireballs around there's no risk of them being overhead or noticed."
Katy smiled faintly. "No fireballs, Levyn," she said sternly.
The mage managed a very thin smile. "I promise, Commander."
"Good," she said, and looked to Oswyn again.
Oswyn nodded. "I'll go let Connor know you've said yes, and send him out to the garden to wait. Come over once you're ready," he said, and went back.
It was a good five minutes after he'd sent Connor out to wait before Katy, Nate, and Jowan came into the room, the mage looking anxious, having doubtless had an earful from Katy. Katy and Nate wore equally imperturbable expressions. She shooed Jowan out into the garden, then the three of them sat down to wait. When Varel came in to see if they needed anything, Oswyn sent him off for a fresh pot of tea, and something to nibble on. They sat mostly in silence, sipping their tea, talking a little to pass the time, though the conversation kept faltering.
Katy grew increasingly restless , and finally rose to her feet. "I think I'd better look and make sure they're not trying to kill each other after all," she said, and went over to the windows, drawing aside a curtain to look out. Oswyn only lasted about a half-second before rising to follow her. Nate merely snorted in amusement, and reached for another cookie.
"Oh," Katy said as she looked out. "I think they'll be all right," she added, sounding pleased.
Oswyn, in the brief glimpse he had over her shoulder before she let the curtain fall closed again, had to agree. The two were standing together, Jowan holding Connor comfortingly while the boy cried, his own face wet with tears.
"You understand that you need to keep this secret from your uncle?" Katy asked, passing Connor a cup of tea and an iced cake.
"He wouldn't understand," Connor agreed, a little reluctantly.
Katy nodded. "He might agree that Jowan is not entirely at fault for what happened, but he'd still feel duty-bound to try and have him arrested and punished for his part in it. And while as a Grey Warden Jowan is theoretically immune to prosecution for his past crimes, it would be very hard for me to protect him. He'd be in a great deal of danger; the chantry has never been happy about the Right of Conscription. They have no objection to us conscripting all manner of criminals, but want to draw the line when it comes to conscripting mages, criminal or not. They don't like being told that they have no more jurisdiction over them."
Connor nodded, and looked at Jowan, who was seated beside him, a soft smile on his face; one of the first times Oswyn could remember ever seeing the mage look relaxed and happy. "Can I write you, at least?" Connor asked.
"That might not be wise," Katy said, frowning slightly. "Even Greagoir and Irving don't know that I have him in the wardens, and they'd frown on you having an outside correspondent that's a stranger."
"He can write to me," Nate spoke up. "And I'll pass his messages on to Jowan. If Greagoir asks, we met here – which is true – and the basis of our friendship is over comparing how our lives have changed now that neither of us are nobles, and the difficulties of adapting to such a very different life than we'd been raised to expect." He smiled at Connor. "Perhaps I might even drop in at the Tower some day to see how you're getting on."
Katy bit her lip. "That might work," she reluctantly agreed. "As long as you're both very careful. Greagoir's not the kind to read mail, but I know other templars are not so delicate, and he won't last forever. The name Jowan is not to ever be used; I'd ask you to avoid ever mentioning the name Levyn, either, unless absolutely necessary. Watch what you say or ask in your letters, and think very hard about how it might sound to unfriendly eyes. That Connor is already a Harrowed mage means he's at least got some privileges now, and if he can prove himself trustworthy..."
"If he can prove himself trustworthy, there's very good reason to expect that he'll be allowed to leave the tower at some point; I'm sure Teagan will be pressing for that, and as Arl of Redcliffe and Connor's uncle his voice will have considerable sway with the chantry," Oswyn pointed out, glancing at Katy.
She gave a very small nod, acknowledging his unspoken point. Arl Teagan would not be the only person with influence who might be willing and able to help Connor toward greater freedom. The chantry might be hostile to anything she herself might do, due to their dislike of the Grey Wardens as being outside their power, but Oswyn, too, would be an Arl in the near future, as well as the Prince-Consort, and if he eventually asked for Connor to be allowed out – likely they would acquiesce, as long as they were given no good reason to refuse.
Connor sighed. "That will take years... but I suppose we have years," he said, and smiled briefly at Jowan. "Though it'd be easier if you just conscripted me, wouldn't it?" he asked Katy, hopefully.
Katy laughed. "After how hard it was for me to pry a mage out of the tower last year? Unfortunately not, I think. No, Connor... you'll just have to be patient. Keep your head down, work hard, and in a few years time when they're satisfied that you're old enough – mature enough – and trustworthy enough, then perhaps you may find yourself being allowed to be hired out of the tower. Some mages spend most of their lives outside of the Circles, you know."
"Very few of them," Connor said, a touch glumly.
Jowan smiled, and reached out to ruffle Connor's hair, which drew a brief offended glare from the boy, who, on the verge of being a young man as he was, doubtless found it too juvenile a form of affection. "You'll have to be sure to work hard to be one of the few, then," Jowan said. "Don't be stupid, like I was. Do it right, so you don't have to live in fear."
Connor sighed, then nodded. "All right. I will."
They spent a bit longer in conversation, then Katy dragged Connor off to Oswyn's bathing chamber to clean his face and remove all trace of his earlier upset. She insisted on him leaving with her, saying that she'd see him returned to the his uncle before she went on to the palace. Levyn went upstairs to rest and think for a while after the excitement of the day; Nate and Oswyn sent the tea tray back to the kitchen, and decided that staging a small raid on the townhouse wine cellar was the proper end to their parts in the whole affair. Though just a small one, they agreed; they needed to stay sober enough to have a good long discussion with Levyn that evening about Oswyn's treatments over the next few days.