Chapter 6: An Unquenchable Flame

Every day Theo woke up wondering if today would be the day. He would open his eyes and see the wan early morning light coming through the windows. He would hold his breath and listen to the silence, waiting for it to be broken by footsteps, or a voice, anything other than the usual sounds of the household waking. He would flatten himself against the mattress and pull the quilt up over his head and keep listening, holding his breath until he nearly saw stars. When no one came for him he cautiously slipped out of bed and dressed, then sneaked into the secret passages he'd come to know so well. He would look for signs that the dust and cobwebs had been disturbed, and would feel a pang of relief in his chest when all was the same as he'd left it the previous morning. He would listen at keyholes and hidden doorways, and when all seemed normal he would reappear just in time to take some breakfast and head to his lessons.

Today was not the day he would be sent away.

He'd grown comfortable with his rituals; they kept him sharp and alert. It helped him coach himself to be ready for that moment when he was officially told he was no longer part of the household.

Not even the servants had to worry about being summarily dismissed the way he did.

While once Theo had desperately sought his father's approval, these days he just avoided the man as much as possible. He remembered the conversation he'd overheard once, shortly after it was clear that Gavriel would recover from his strange illness.

"Your second son is well," Brother Madron had said. "Theodane is fourteen, quite past the age most acolytes come to the Chantry."

Theo wanted nothing more than to run, far and fast; but he'd stayed. Even as the anger had bubbled inside of him he'd stayed.

"The healers warn of a relapse."

Brother Madron sighed. "I don't know how much longer I can curry favor with the Revered Mother. She is… impatient."

"Surely she understands the difficult predicament the family is in."

"She does, but she'd also ask that you understand your position as the Bann of Ostwick, and therefore your responsibility to the Chantry." Brother Madron looked at the floor when he said this.

"Then she can tell me that herself."

Brother Madron was gone the next day; it was one of the best days of Theo's life. He spent it in town with Master Blain, shooting in his practice yards and impressing the locals. "You could hire me as an apprentice," Theo told him hopefully. "I'd work my ass off. And you wouldn't even know I'm here. I've got a lot of practice."

Master Blain smiled ruefully. "There's nothing I'd like more, Theo. Really."

"But the Chantry thing."

"Yes."

"So why bother continuing to train me?" Theo asked, eyeing the target before pulling back on the bow and releasing his arrow. He hit near the center and swore under his breath. That should have hit the middle.

"Because… well, I don't know," Blain said. "Maybe the Maker has a sense of humor?"

The following day a new, older brother had been assigned to the manor, and the Revered Mother herself was there. Theo hid in the passage behind his father's office, both amused and afraid. They wouldn't have assigned a new brother to tutor him if she meant to haul him away that day, right?

It was mostly arguing about politics and such, Chantry quotations, tired arguments Theo had heard over and over again, and he was starting to doze off.

"A mistake." Alick's voice was cold and hard. "That's all this has been, is a mistake."

"The Maker has his reasons, Bann Trevevlyan," Mother Marya said. "He knows why he's given you and your family these trials."

"I know. But you know my eldest daughter is a mage, and for the last fourteen years I've been preparing to give away my youngest son." He sighed. "And now we don't know what will happen with Gavriel. If we never had another child…"

It had been a long time since Theo had wanted to cry over anything his father said. He'd gotten used to being alternately ignored and reprimanded when he acted out. He rose to his feet and slipped through the passages, then out of the house and to the stables. A mistake. All a mistake. That was all he was to his family.

And so he'd developed his morning ritual over the last two years, listening, waiting, breathing a cautious sigh of relief each time. His new tutor was old, less zealous than Brother Madron, and content to let Theo finish the day's work with little fuss before he turned to his own research and Theo headed out to shoot.

This morning was his sixteenth name day. He woke as he did every morning, listened… and his heart caught in his chest like fabric snagging on a nail when he heard footsteps. They neared his door and he swallowed and debated rolling off the bed and hiding and then someone was knocking. When he didn't answer, the door latch clicked. The hinges creaked. He wished he'd hidden. Or even had his pocket knife nearby. He didn't know what he'd do with it, and he'd probably be damned forever for threatening a Chantry member…

"Hey. Theo, wake up." It was Gavriel. Theo heard him come in, heard the door click shut behind him. Heard the footsteps come closer. Then Gave was yanking the covers down and grinning. "Happy name day, little brother," he said with a grin.

Theo squinted in the bright morning sunlight. Gave had recovered, but still looked thinner and paler than before his illness. He tired more quickly, but was determined to return to life as it had been before. "I was sleeping," he said instead of letting Gave know how touched he was that his brother had remembered, or how scared he'd been that Gave was someone from the Chantry. Or their father.

"Bullshit," Gave said. "Get up. I've got a full day planned to celebrate." He nudged Theo's shoulder.

Theo decided that enjoying Gavriel's attention was better than dwelling on the bitterness that had rooted itself deep within him. He rolled out of bed and began fishing clothes out of the armoire. "What do you have planned?" he asked, curious.

"A cure for what ails you," Gavriel said with a mysterious, crooked grin that made Theo wonder if he should be grateful, or worried.

"She's pretty," Gavriel said, angling his chin toward one of the serving girls in the tavern.

Theo looked over, and the serving girl caught his eye and smiled. He blushed and looked away quickly. "Yeah, she is," he said with a shrug.

"I could tell her it's your name day," Gavriel said with a wink. "I bet she'd probably kiss you. Look at the way she's looking at you. Maker's balls, I wish I had half the girls in Ostwick looking at me the way they look at you when I was your age." He smiled, but then sighed. Once he'd recovered sufficiently, a marriage had been arranged with a young lady from Markham; it wasn't the strongest alliance, but the best that could be made under the circumstances. And unfortunately, both Gavriel and Lissa knew it.

"Would you have rather married an Ostwick girl?" Theo asked, finishing off his drink, and nodding for another. Gavriel was buying, and he didn't know how many more carefree days he had left.

"I get the need for alliances, but yeah, what's wrong with the Ostwick girls?" he asked. "Maybe we can convince Father that you're necessary at home, get you married off to someone from around here. There's got to be at least one girl in town you've had your eyes on. I mean, you're sixteen," he said, as if that should mean something.

Theo just shrugged because there weren't any that caught his eye. And even if they did, what point was there? The serving girl set his fresh drink down, and he immediately began drinking to avoid Gavriel's questions. And Gavriel had lots of questions, so Theo kept drinking. It was easier to shrug and take a swig than to try and find answers that he didn't have.

When they left the tavern it was sundown, and the merchant stalls had closed down for the night. A few shops remained open. "Honestly, I just want to be a bowyer's apprentice," Theo told Gavriel, his words slightly slurred and the cobblestone street slanting under his feet. "Forget marrying off. Forget this Chantry stuff. I just want to make bows and shoot arrows. I don't think that's too much to ask," he proclaimed as he tripped over his own foot.

Gavriel caught him and laughed. "You only say that because you've never had a woman to polish your blade," he said.

"I don't use a sword."

"You are so drunk," Gavriel said, slinging Theo's arm over his shoulder. They were the same height, but Theo was having trouble standing up straight, so it was a task. "Come on." They stumbled up the cobblestone street to a section of town Theo didn't frequent, but Gave's sure step said that his brother did. Gavriel helped him to the door of another tavern, but this one was more subdued, and, Theo noticed, filled with women. A few men sat in quiet, darkened corners talking with a woman; occasionally they'd both get up and disappear up the stairs, or through a doorway.

Gavriel led him inside and to a table with a candle burning in a small glass holder, and ordered wine for the both of them. "I'm still drunk," Theo murmured to his brother, but Gavriel just shrugged it off. "Lissa won't like this," he added, and again, Gavriel shrugged.

"We're both miserable, and it's your name day," Gavriel said. "You and I are both entitled to a bit of fun."

"Did you say it was someone's name day?"

Theo glanced up to see a lovely woman staring down at him with wide, clear blue eyes. Her golden hair was long and wavy and she wore it loose, unlike most of the women here that he'd seen. She took a seat at their table without being invited, and focused the full power of her eyes on Theo. She leaned in slightly, her hand creeping toward his arm as she chattered and laughed and he tried to keep up, wondering if he was supposed to converse with her or just listen, bewildered.

And then she took him by the hand and led him toward the staircase and he looked helplessly back at Gavriel, who smiled and waved as another golden-haired woman practically draped herself over his lap.

Theo hadn't quite known what to expect when Gavriel waved a cheerful farewell, but it certainly wasn't that. "Did you like Kelwyn?" Gave asked as they walked home.

Theo just shrugged and blushed; it was enough for Gavriel, who just nodded knowingly and chuckled to himself. Kelwyn was lovely; he could appreciate her beauty, but even when she'd guided his hands to her bared, supple breasts and whispered dirty things to him, nothing had happened the way Gavriel had said it would on so many occasions. It was all Theo could do to keep from dying of embarrassment while he wondered if something was wrong with him.

She'd been doing something with her hands when the door opened and she swore. Theo looked up and saw a handsome male elf standing there in the open door, grinning slightly. "Dammit Adwen!" she'd snapped. "Learn to lock the door," Adwen had said. He had reddish gold hair, hair the color of a candle flame. His dark eyes were warm and teasing and his lithe body moved with more grace than Kelwyn did. But for all his teasing, the very tips of his pointed ears were slightly red with embarrassment.

He was beautiful.

Then Theo felt something. He couldn't take his eyes off Adwen. Kelwyn looked between the two men before smiling. "Why not?" she asked, after a moment of thought. She beckoned Adwen in; he had the sense to lock the door behind him. "This one's on me," she said. "It is your name day, after all."

Theo had quite a bit to think about when he finally fell into bed that night, after making sure Gavriel made it back to his rooms. Gavriel was still drunk; he'd probably been drinking the entire time Theo had been with Adwen. Theo didn't mind; it kept Gave from asking too many questions that Theo himself didn't have the answers to.