Duncan Therin was not sure when he began caring about Aria Trevelyan.
The first time they had met, Aria had called him entitled and pretentious, wondering how a man such as Alistair could have ever fathered such a whelp like Duncan. Duncan had been young, and unused to being scorned. He was used to people giving in to his every whim, speaking to him with the same respect they showed his noble parents. It was the first time he had been treated like a commoner, and once the initial sting of her words had waned, he found himself appreciating her honesty, and for the first time he understood why his father missed being someone other than the king. Aria didn't see him as the crown prince, but rather as a person, someone who could speak freely to him rather than spin the words that would appease him.
And Duncan had come to appreciate her for it. Over time, that appreciation had turned to affection. Not the sort of affection one feels towards a romantic partner, but rather the way one would care for a sibling. He became protective of her, even writing her letters to ensure she was being taken care of when he was home in Denerim. They had developed a close bond over the years, one that might match his father's bond with Aedan.
He therefore took her abduction quite personally, and much like his father, he would not allow himself to remain within the comfort of the keep while someone he cared for was missing or possibly hurt.
His father had taught him the value of caring for the people in his charge, whether they were elves in the alienage, or the people in his inner circle. His father's reign had been spent trying to rebuild Ferelden into a place of equality, a place of freedom that was available to anyone who should need it.
Duncan knew what he must do, though he knew his parents would never approve. He had decided the moment he overheard the conversation with Aedan that he would simply have to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. He would send a crow when he was a respectable distance away, letting his parents know he was safe, but that he would not be returning until he found the missing children.
He mulled over the words he would say as he made his way to the stables. A great deal of apprehension and uncertainty settling upon his as he readied his horse, his heart beating wildly as the sheer foolishness of his idea tugged at him.
What chance did he have to track down three missing children when seasoned men could even begin the task? He could not ask for resources, for anyone who knew of his intentions would likely tell his father who would immediately put a stop to his mission before it began. He had never explored the Ferelden planes by himself without being accompanied by a seasoned guide or hunting party. He had never been in danger of ambush from bandits or wild animals for he had always had protection around him, dozens of men assigned to him safe. While he had been trained in combat from the time he was a child, he had never faced foes intent on killing him. His training had always taken place in the safety of the sparring ring, never in the open field where he was vulnerable to attack.
One thought rolled into another, his nerves dancing between seeing the plan through and simply backing out. The odds were impossibly stacked against him, and the weight of that reality weighed heavily upon him.
But when he thought of abandoning the idea, he thought of his father and Aedan Cousland. They had been the last two Wardens in Ferelden, tasked with uniting a kingdom against not only the Blight, but the obstacle of his treasonous grandfather constantly attempting to have them killed.
His mother had tried to paint Loghain as the hero he had once been, and Alistair being a good man who did not wish to taint a young boy's mind against his hero had never spoken to him of what happened. But as he grew older, he sensed there was more to the story and thanks to the scholars and books he had smuggled in, Duncan had come to learn the full truth of his grandfather.
His father had overcome all of those obstacles and became the king the country deserved. If he could achieve that, surely Duncan could accomplish this task.
But his father had been blessed with companions who had helped him, while Duncan had nobody he could seek out. He wracked his brain as he saddled his horse, trying to think of anyone who could help him who would not first alert his father.
As he readied his steed, a young man stepped beside him, appearing so quietly it was as if he manifested from the air itself.
"Going somewhere?" He asked, causing Duncan to jump out of his skin.
"Maker's breath! Where did you come from?"
An amused smirk appeared on the other boy's face, slightly infuriating yet benign in nature. He had not meant to startle the prince, but he could not help but laugh at his undiplomatic response. His face was youthful, barely passed twenty summers if Duncan had to guess. His raven colored hair fell over his face, doing very little to conceal his glowing yellow eyes. They were unlike anything Duncan had ever seen before, yet they seemed somehow familiar, though he could not imagine how. He could sense a carefully concealed power from the boy, but also a sense of calm, as if he had spent his life learning how to master his emotions and abilities.
"Who are you?" Duncan asked, doing his best to regain his sense of composure.
The boy ignored him, walking passed him and approaching his horse. The horse stamped his foot nervously, but the boy paid him no mind as he looked the animal directly into the eyes, as if hypnotizing the beast with his gaze. The horse calmed, lowered his snout to be stroked by the stranger who had yet to identify himself.
"This is a fine mount." The boy said appraisingly.
Duncan looked between his horse and the boy, unable to grasp what had just transpired between the two.
"Well, then. Shall we?"
The boy approached a nearby horse in a neighboring stall, preparing the mount for what appeared to be an extended journey.
"Shall we what?" Duncan said perplexed.
"I see you have inherited your father's wits. Pity." The boy responded blankly. "You seek the missing children, yes? Well, as as fate would have it, we seek the same thing. I will accompany you."
"You? Did someone send you here to find me?"
"Not in so many words." The boy replied. "I suppose you could call it a familial obligation, and that is all you need to know for now."
Duncan chewed his lip thoughtfully, pondering his new dilemma. A moment ago, he had been lamenting about his lack of help; now he found himself in the presence of someone willing to help him, but was being deliberately cryptic with his answers. He knew nothing about his companion, and he found that more than a little unsettling.
The boy sighed in agitation.
"Don't worry little prince. There are others who can help, you simply have to endure my presence until we seek them out."
Seeing no other options before him, Duncan mounted his horse, following the other boy from the stables and out into the courtyard.
"Might I at least know your name?" Duncan said, expecting another vague answer from his companion.
"You may call me Kieran."