A/N: Thank you to the few people who have bothered to review, especially mutive for the constructive criticism, and I hope all of you continue to do so. As for the rest of you readers…please, for the love of all that is holy, send me some reviews so I know what I'm doing right or wrong.

I know this story is slow but please hang in there as it will eventually speed up and I do have some more exciting scenes planned for the next chapter or two to liven up the reading a bit.

Persuasions

Aedan strode into the kitchens enjoying the sharp intakes of breath and hurried curtsies his arrival elicited from the cooks and scullery maids. Sweeping past their obsequious poses in a rustle of silken cloth and a flash of gilt finery Aedan's keen eyes saw his target emerging from a storeroom. Arms piled high with cheese, bread, and cold cuts of meat Fergus entered the kitchen his expression curious as to the sudden hush that had befallen the ever-bustling kitchen. Instantly his eyes were drawn to the prominent figure of his younger brother as the man quickly walked towards him through a sea of parting servants.

"Hello, Aedan." Fergus greeted, secretly enjoying the quick flash of irritation that crossed his brother's face at the casual familiarity of the greeting Fergus had given him in the presence of the many servants.

Recovering his composure Aedan responded, careful to do so in a way that would explain to the surrounding kitchen staff the reason for Fergus' casual greeting and remind everyone of their proper stations, "Brother, I thought you'd be down here. Some things never change; just like when we were younger here you are still harassing the poor, hardworking help."

Reaching his brother Aedan clapped a hand to Fergus' shoulder and began steering him towards the nearby mess hall. Allowing himself to be guided Fergus was surprised as he entered the mess to see the large room completely devoid of its normal population of off duty soldiers. His attention drawn by this inconsistency Fergus noticed the mess hall's few current occupants aside from himself and Aedan; a pair of soldiers looking very much on-duty clad with the livery of the palace guard next to each doorway. As he watched them, curious as to their unusual presence, Fergus felt Aedan's arm on his shoulder urge him to sit at the table the two brothers had walked up to.

Once his brother was seated Aedan motioned for the guards to leave and hurried around the table's end; glad to be able to walk at his normal pace rather than matching Fergus' halting step. Waiting until the guardsmen had shut the doors behind them and taken their posts outside the mess hall Aedan sat across the heavy, wooden table from his brother watching patiently as Fergus arranged the mountain of food he had brought with him atop the dirty, battered tabletop that had endured the ravages of generations of careless guardsmen. Waiting until Fergus could no longer pretend to be distracted by the all-consuming importance of arranging food Aedan began speaking as he saw Fergus reluctantly direct his gaze up from the table and towards Aedan, "Look at all that food, brother! Want to know another of the Grey Warden's precious secrets?"

Not waiting for an answer Aedan continued, "After the Joining a new Warden's appetite dramatically increases and we devour enormous amounts of food. Seeing what you're doing I must say I'm glad you haven't undergone the Joining or the Wardens would bankrupt themselves trying to find you enough fodder."

"I'm undergoing the sacrament of devotion tonight." responded Fergus, prompted to continue explaining by the blank expression on Aedan's face, "Devotion…the rite by which a layperson becomes Affirmed? Where the prospective Affirmed examine their faith during a twelve hour, silent vigil? You didn't listen to a word Mother Mallol said during our instruction on the Chantry, did you?"

"Of course I did, Fergus" Aedan protested, "I just knew that because I was the son of a teyrn Affirmation was not my destiny no matter how sincere my devotion to our Maker is."

"Ah, so that is what this conversation will be about." Fergus stated with a forced calmness.

Giving up the charade of joviality Aedan's expression became grim as he prepared for the inevitable argument, "Yes, Fergus, that is why I am here."

"Why does it matter so much that I become teyrn? We both know Father was grooming you for the position; that is why I was allowed to marry while you were expected to remain single until a political match showed itself. You be the teyrn."

"I know what father intended, brother, but I can not hold both the teyrnir and kingship."

"Why not? Your betrothed is now both the teyrna of Gwaren and the Queen." argued Fergus.

"That's different and you know it, Fergus. She inherited the teyrnir by being the only surviving Mac Tir, it was her duty. If she had a sibling it would have passed to them; to do otherwise is to make the nobles of the Landsmeet nervous of your growing power. If you join the Chantry and I accept the inheritance of Highever all the nobles will think I forced you aside and am gathering power into my own hands in order to weaken, or even destroy, the Landsmeet's traditional power. Therefore, if you become Affirmed I will have to let Anora give our fief to one of her creatures."

"Wouldn't it be decided by the laws of inheritance?"

"Ordinarily yes, but with there being no other Couslands the rest of the claims are tenuous at best and would likely result in a second civil war as nobles with varying claims fight over our land. In that situation the Landsmeet would almost certainly vote for the teyrnir to revert to the Crown to avoid that outcome."

"I see. Politics. You want me to be the teyrn knowing that I'll be one of your creatures." cutting off Aedan's response Fergus continued, "No, Aedan, I don't fault you for that. Such pragmatic decisions are the currency of politics and are the reason I need to leave that world to find peace."

Silence stretched out after Fergus' statement as Aedan's mind searched for a chink in the armor of his brother's reasoning. Before one could be found, however, Fergus broke the quiet, "As I lay wounded and a prisoner of the Chasind I clung to the promise of revenge upon the Darkspawn, Loghain, and Howe to sustain me…but you already accomplished all that. Now when thinking about all I've lost it only plunges me into a darkness that makes me want to give up this life. After all, what's left for me now? That, that feeling of purposelessness is what I'm hoping the Chantry will help me overcome."

"Your purpose is to be the teyrn of Highever."

"I can hardly convince myself to get out of bed each morning, I find no satisfaction in what used to be enjoyable, in short I no longer have the passion or energy required to be a leader." countered Fergus sadly, his eyes never leaving the scarred table. Shaking his head he slowly forced himself to look up and meet his brother's eyes, "Aedan, despite what I foolishly said in our last argument I know that you have lost as much as I from the Blight and Howe's treachery and yet you have somehow not surrendered to despair and continue pushing yourself to achieve new things. I marvel at the ability you possess to continue giving your all a world that has brought you only pain now that revenge is no longer a viable motivator. I, however, do not seem to possess that particular quality. So tell me, having endured all that we both have, how do you go on with living?"

The well-rehearsed words pouring out in a like quicksilver Aedan jumped at his chance, "I find strength by knowing my duty to Ferelden's people. By leading our nation out of the rubble from a civil war and a Blight and towards a new age…"

"Save it for the ignorant masses, Aedan." Fergus snarled, "I at least deserve the truth. Is it for wealth and power? You did not care about such things before I left for Ostagar but do you care now?"

Looking towards the sealed doors Aedan lowered his voice and, confident in their temporary solitude, bared his soul, "Then here is the truth of the matter, brother. A revelation I have not entrusted to anyone else and one I trust you not to betray." seeing Fergus' nodded agreement Aedan went on, "Your guess is broadly correct, I want as much power as I can wring from this world but I do this not for myself but rather because I do have a sense of duty. Not towards Ferelden, not for the wretched masses of commoners and merchants but for our own noble family's name. For the Cousland name I have not only destroyed our trespassers but I will build our fame to such blinding heights of glory that our enemies; the Howes, Mac Tirs, and all their followers will be eclipsed by our grandeur and forgotten by history. Yes, I have saved Ferelden from the Blight and defeated our betrayers but my work has only just begun. Under me Ferelden will experience an age of glory that even Calenhad's unification will dim by comparison. Our borders will expand, our coffers overflow, our armies will sweep all before them, and monuments in remembrance of our slain family will rise across Thedas. Names and faces etched in granite they will endure for ages as personifications of the ideals they embodied in life; Father as duty, Mother as honor, Oren as innocence, and Orianna as love."

"And you need Highever's political and military support so that this can come to pass." Fergus stated, his blunt manner puncturing Aedan's impassioned discourse.

Recovering from his momentary deflation Aedan's mind once again leapt into the forges of ambition as he continued, "Yes, but that is not the end of my need for you to rule Highever. My name will ring throughout history but how much more glorious would it be if the Cousland name were to become a dynasty. And therein lays the rub. No matter my accomplishments I cannot secure that final, most precious of achievements; that is your fate." his eyes alight as he stared into the future of his design Aedan briefly paused for breath before continuing, "From you a line of Cousland kings could spring from Highever flowing into the current of history bringing a purity and perfection absent in this world just as the fast flowing, clear waters of the mountain streams that descend from the snow crested peaks of our homeland and surge into the dark, deep waters of the Waking Sea lighten the bracken waters of the coast."

Breaking Aedan's reverie Fergus interrupted, "You hunt for glory, and I do not begrudge you that quest, but I hunt for peace which is inevitably lost in the paroxysms of violence that history teaches are glory's attendants. I wish you well but I do not think I can help you. No, brother, tonight I will begin my vigil of affirmation." Standing from the well worn table Fergus slowly made his way towards the doorway. Passing through it Fergus felt the questioning gaze of the guardsmen who wondered what had passed between the two brothers beyond their hearing in the security of the empty mess hall.

"So be it, Fergus." Aedan said sadly to his brother's retreating back. Shaking his melancholy away Aedan addressed the seemingly empty room, "Okay, Leliana, come on out."

Emerging from the shadows as she left the concealment of a wooden pillar the bard pouted, "How did you know? Was it the lamp that flickered as I walked past it?"

"Perhaps you are not as sneaky as you believe yourself to be." Aedan replied brusquely, frustrated at Fergus' intractable attitude. Looking at the wounded expression on his bard's face Aedan's voice immediately softened as her pout did its trick despite its obvious exaggeration, "Oh stop playing the victim, Leliana, it will not work on me. I know of your strengths far too well to believe in this show of weakness. But, just to put your mind at ease, no…no I did not notice any shadows, flickering flames, or subtle sounds as you sneaked about. I simply guessed that you would be haunting any further conversations I held with Fergus seeing as how entertaining you found the last one to be."

Refusing to abandon her frown without wringing some reparation from him in return for his initial insulting of her roguish talents Leliana continued in a hurt voice, "Perhaps your dismissal of my abilities is not what has truly upset me, mon roi. Perhaps it is the fact that you do not trust me enough to bare your heart to me that has darkened my day."

Pleased to see a concerned frown cross his face at her accusation Leliana struggled to maintain her pout in the face of a growing sense of victory, a struggle not made easier as Aedan's voice became apologetic, "I'm sorry, Leliana but I did not want to tell anyone this, I only told Fergus hoping it might help him recover from his malaise. I should have told you; and I do trust you, Leliana. I just feared you would think less of me for seeking glory rather than some less selfish quest."

"You forget that I am a bard." Leliana replied, "What could possibly be better than a lover whose glorious achievements are sure to provide endless material for ballads? No, provided you start telling me all your secrets starting now, I think I might just forgive you."

Her pretty frown dissolving into an even prettier smirk as she saw the relief on his appropriately contrite face Leliana quickly closed the distance to Aedan standing behind him and gently rubbing his shoulders. Leaning down and placing a light kiss on his cheek Leliana smiled as she saw Aedan's grim expression soften under her attention, "So, mon cheri, glory and duty did not sway Fergus. It is now my turn to try changing his mind, no?"

"Arl Eamon, I'm glad to have found you here." Anora called out as she stepped out of her carriage and caught sight of the nobleman hurrying out of his mansion to greet her.

"Your Majesty." Eamon said as he swept into a respectfully deep bow, surprised at the Queen's sudden appearance at his estate, "Please come inside and out of the cold."

"Thank you, Eamon, though if you are otherwise occupied please don't let me be an inconvenience; I'm just here for an informal, friendly visit." Anora commented as they made their way into Eamon's estate; both experienced nobles knowing that her claims to the contrary only emphasized the importance of this meeting.

Seating themselves in comfortable chairs surrounding a roaring fire in Eamon's study Anora got down to business, "I find myself with a problem I was hoping you could help me solve, Eamon."

"Of course, Your Majesty, whatever is in my power I shall do."

"Thank you. I was hoping you could tell me which is more fitting for the memorial statue that I intend to have built of Alistair. As you know my betrothed wants, and quite rightly so, a statue built in honor of Alistair in front of the new Grey Wardens building he plans to construct here in Denerim." seeing the old man's face sadden at the reminder of his adopted son's death Anora continued, confidence in her approach's success, "The question is how to portray Alistair for history. Clad in Cailan's armor as the last and greatest of the Theirins, the man who killed the Archdemon and saved Ferelden…or should he be remembered as the Warden who sacrificed himself as his duty to the order demanded?"

"Either is a great honor, my Queen." Eamon stated slowly as Anora watched him closely, glad to see that the arl was taking the question seriously as it showed he understood its implications, "I, I believe Alistair would have like to be known to history as a Theirin. After all, the statue's location outside the Warden's compound should make that relationship clear so let the statue itself tell of his kingly blood."

"Wonderful, Eamon, I shall do as you suggest and Alistair will be known to history as one of Calenhad's heirs." Anora stated firmly as she stood to leave, pausing to mention one last issue seemingly as an aside, "Oh, and Eamon. I was hoping that you could come by the palace tomorrow. Orlais has sent an embassy and I was hoping you would lend your expertise to me as an advisor in our dealings with our neighbors."

"I am humbled you think me an expert, Your Majesty, and I will, of course, do anything in my power to help the Crown."

Having seen the Queen back to her carriage Eamon returned to his study finding Teagan waiting for him, "Eamon, what did she want?"

"To discuss plans for Alistair's statue and to ask me to advise her tomorrow regarding Orlais."

"Really?" Teagan responded, his voice dripping skepticism.

"Of course not, Teagan, but that is what she said." Eamon responded easily.

"I hate politics."

"As do I, brother, but I play at it nonetheless."

"So, what do you think the Queen really said?"

"I believe she was at the least attempting to heal the schism that opened between us during the Blight."

"You're being rather recalcitrant in answering me, Eamon, so I know something that simple isn't all you've read into this meeting's words."

Nodding Eamon continued, "I am not sure but, depending on how the audience with the Orlesians goes tomorrow, Anora might well be looking beyond a simple rapprochement and towards an alliance."

"An alliance against Aedan." Teagan stated, "Surely you cannot be considering that! After all Aedan did for Redcliffe, and all of Ferelden, during the Blight you can't side against him now. To do so would be a craven act of betrayal."

"I do not dispute that the man is a great leader in times of war but what does he know of peace? In comparison Anora has proven herself a more than capable ruler in peacetime."

"It sounds as if you have already made up your mind as to who you shall throw Redcliffe's support behind." Teagan said without accusation, "I just hope you do this for the logical reasons you profess and not in revenge for Aedan letting Alistair make the killing blow on the Archdemon. I know you wanted a Theirin on the throne and Aedan ruined that chance but if bloodlines are that important to you a Cousland is the next best option now that the Theirins are extinct."

"I know that, Teagan, and I do not begrudge Aedan his throne as Prince-Consort. In fact, that outcome is best as it will leave Ferelden's recovery in Anora's capable hands while also injecting nobility back into the blood of the royal line; a nobility Anora's Mac Tir blood lacks."

"But you must realize that if either of them outmaneuvers the other the loser will inevitably be executed." Teagan protested.

"Exactly, and that is why I must be in the middle of the whole thing trying to make sure neither of them loses. I, and Ferelden, need their power struggle to end in a draw." Eamon answered, his voice strong and etched with purpose.

"And you have now informed Anora of your support?"

"In a way, yes. I suggested Alistair's statue represent him as Maric's heir rather than as the simple, dutiful Warden Aedan had planned."

"That will infuriate Aedan! Not only will it present him as the second-choice to the throne behind Alistair but it will raise questions as to why Aedan allowed the rightful king to deal the deathblow to the Archdemon rather than doing it himself as duty and loyalty would demand. I hope Anora rewards you suitably for this because Aedan is not someone I would set about irritating for a pittance."

"I hope so as well," Eamon agreed solemnly, "And that is the question that will be answered tomorrow when I go to court."

"Fergus, I thought that I might find you here!" Leliana exclaimed, her exuberant voice echoing through the hushed confines of the palace chantry as she swept down the center aisle. Striding past several worshippers Leliana continued chattering; seemingly ignorant of the irritated glares her appearance drew from those around her and who had been bowed in prayer prior to her appearance. "First I checked your quarters, then the parade ground, and finally the kitchen…a location I was sure you'd be at because, in my experience, when looking for a man it is always best to check the brothels and the kitchen. And, since I know, or at least think I know, that you are not the type to frequent the brothels I…

Wincing at both the sudden interruption and in embarrassment as his fellow devotees turned to look at the reason for the boisterous redhead's arrival Fergus quickly stood and walked towards the loquacious bard; set on intercepting her before she finished demolishing the tranquility of the chapel, "Leliana, as delighted as I am to see you I am in the middle of my devotions. Perhaps I could arrange to meet you afterwards to discuss whatever brought you in search of me?"

"Oh, that's sweet of you but I don't want to be a huge bother to you!" Leliana protested, willfully ignorant of the obvious contradiction between her words and actions. Grabbing his arm Leliana began pulling the embarrassed man away from the other affirmees, "Here, Fergus, let us duck into the library. Chantry libraries have always been my favorite place to talk…so quiet, and tranquil; the perfect place for a conversation."

Deciding it was best to do anything that would get the bard away from the others holding vigil and sure that the reverend mother would be understanding of his own vigil's lapse Fergus allowed Leliana to pull him out of the sanctuary. Entering the library Fergus moved to sit in a comfortable looking chair that even had a stool for his leg as Leliana closed the door behind them and took a seat in a nearby chair. Looking at the nearly crippled man Leliana saw the relief etched on Fergus' face as he settled his leg into a comfortable position; smiling in sympathy Leliana resumed talking, "I bet it feels good to be sitting comfortably rather than kneeling on the cold stone."

"Such discomfort is a small price to pay…" Fergus began before Leliana interrupted, something indefinable in her tone clearly indicating to Fergus that she was no longer simply chattering.

"I remember my own affirmation vigil. I had just recovered from a wound of my own and as I sat before the beautiful statue of our lady Andraste I felt the stitching give way. As I knelt there, my muscles screaming in protest at having to hold that position for hours, I felt the heat of blood as it sheeted down my back bringing with it a constant reminder of the pain I had suffered that had led me to seek affirmation in the Chantry in the first place."

Eyebrows rising in surprise Fergus followed the redhead's obvious prompt, "You were Affirmed?"

"Yes, I was. Like many, including you, I was driven to the Chantry to seek succor from my past and I did, indeed, find it there for a time."

"But you are not still living in the cloister." Fergus observed, "So I'm guessing you're here to tell me why that path failed you and will, presumably, fail me as well."

Giggling at Fergus' perceptive comment Leliana nodded, "Exactly, Aedan wants me to convince you to become teyrn by telling you how the Chantry doesn't really help heal the past's wounds."

"Well, even from our short acquaintance, I know you will not leave me to my vigil in peace until you have had your say…so please begin." Fergus said without rancor.

"Thank you Fergus. Now, where was I? Oh yes, my vigil. Well, as I said, I knelt there by the altar for hours feeling my head spin as I became faint from blood loss. The Reverend Mother saw the blood seeping through the robes I wore and quietly urged me to delay quit my vigil and heal before once again attempting the twelve hours of prayer and meditation. Your knees must have been very uncomfortable, Fergus, did the Reverend Mother here ask you if you'd like to have a cushion or something?"

"Yes, she told me I could sit on the pews; that Andraste was merciful and did not want me to suffer." Fergus answered, curious as to the bard's point.

"And Her Grace is not doubt correct. And yet when I came in I saw you on the hard, stone floor with the other initiates." smiling at Fergus' silence following this observation Leliana continued, "I did the same as you…I refused to delay my vigil and completed it that very night. After it was done I almost immediately fainted and had to spend the next week recuperating. While I healed the Reverend Mother visited me and left me with some words of warning that in my desperate search for relief from the nightmares of my past I then ignored; but they have stuck with me ever since and, I believe, have proven wise. She said to me, 'Just as with physical wounds the wounds of the soul cannot heal until the nature and extent of the injury has been discovered. I have seen this all many times before, child. The tortured soul seeking solace within the Chantry is an oft repeated theme and many times within that theme I have watched ones such as you whose wounds have yet not been explored. You are, of course, welcome to stay here but I wonder whether your decision to seek the tranquility of the chantry lifestyle is truly a quest for healing or if it is actually a flight from the painful necessity of probing your wounds to find their true nature.'"

"You remember all that, do you?" Fergus commented dryly.

Laughing at his skepticism Leliana gently scolded the wounded man, "Here I am telling you a quite personal story and you have the callousness to question me! As if I needed further proof chivalry is dead."

"You're right, of course, Leliana. I apologize for my thoughtlessness…" Fergus began before the bard quickly cut him off.

"Do not apologize, Fergus, for you are correct… I did not recall the good reverend mother's speech word for word. In fact what she said might have been closer to, 'Quit wiggling about, girl, your only making it hurt more by moving around as I try to stitch you up. Maker's Breath would you hold still already? I swear I've worked on children who were better patients than you.' That might be a more accurate recollection but really, if you read between the lines, it means essentially the same thing, no? Besides, I rather like to believe that if she hadn't been so annoyed at having to re-stitch me that all she did was mutter about the impossibility of Orlesians she would have given me the advice I have just related to you."

Smiling Fergus shook his head in wonder at the bard's flippant manner, "So, Leliana, what than would you suggest if not the chantry."

"That is something only you can decide but let me continue to tell you my story in the hope that you can glean some useful lessons from it." Seeing Fergus nod his acquiescence Leliana continued, "I stayed at the chantry and recovered from my wounds physically but the pain in my heart did not lessen. I could not understand it at the time and, indeed, did not understand it until much later when traveling Ferelden with Aedan. Now, I won't bore you with details but at a certain point in our travels during the Blight we met a man; really more a spirit than a man.

This spirit questioned me as to my religious beliefs, which are not entirely in line with Chantry doctrine, accusing me of pretending to have visions from the Maker as a desperate cry for attention. At the time, of course, I was offended at his preposterous accusation but it haunted me nonetheless. As I continued to mull over the spirit's words I came to realize that while I still believe in my visions the spirit's words held a deeper truth regarding my situation.

For you to understand this I must briefly go back even further into my past and tell you why I ended up in Lothering's chantry. I am a bard, as you know, and during a mission I was betrayed by one whom I loved and who, I believed, returned my love. I found out the hard way that I was mistaken. It was that betrayal which led me to the Chantry. Now, as I sat in our camp high up in the freezing mountains I realized that the spirit's questions were not designed as an attack on my beliefs but rather as a prompt to make me examine my soul; an examination I had always shied away from in the chantry.

As I thought on that I finally probed my wound and I reached a conclusion. My wound was the pain of my ability to love having been removed from my soul. The Maker, I believe, knew this and in His mercy sent visions to me that reassured me of the love He holds for His creation. But, because the Maker is perfect it is easy to love him in return and entailed no risk on my part. Therefore, the Maker sent me one final vision, a vision which led me into Aedan's company where, slowly, I rediscovered that I could feel both the strength and vulnerability of love. As Aedan and I built our relationship in the midst of danger and despair my wound healed in a final and absolute way that would not have been possible in the chantry's peace, I learned to allow myself to be vulnerable for the first time since my betrayal and have been rewarded for my risk by once again knowing the pleasures of giving and receiving love."

Standing from her chair Leliana walked up to Fergus and gave him a strong, reassuring hug which he gladly accepted. Releasing him the bard headed for the library's door pausing to briefly before leaving, "I will not simply tell you that the Chantry is a fool's hope, as Aedan no doubt would want me to, but I will tell you this: before devoting your life to the Chantry please learn from my experiences that to seek healing without knowing exactly what is hurt is a hopeless task. Probe your wound, find out what needs healing and only then decide whether the Chantry will provide the healing you require."

Sitting quietly Fergus heard Leliana pad across the room and begin opening the door. Before she could slip out he called to her, "Thank you, Leliana. I do not look forward to facing the pains of my past but I thank you for the advice. If my brother asks for news of me tell him that you have convinced me to at least delay my vigil as I think on what you've told me."

"Very well, Fergus, and I wish you peace…by whatever path you can find it." the redhead said compassionately before gracefully slipping out of the library and closing the door quietly behind her so as not to disturb the affirmees.