It was one of those pale, undecided mornings, not quite winter any more, but not quite spring yet either. Despite the fire burning brightly in the hearth, Alix shivered in the damp morning air. "They did warn me about the weather," she muttered under her breath, not really expecting an answer.

Nate looked up from the long columns of numbers he'd been checking, the corners of his eyes crinkling in an amused smile. "Are you cold?"

"Of course I am." Alix threw him a dark glance. "This room is draughty. I'll have one of the workmen check the windows later."

"Sure." Nate shrugged. "But don't expect too much. Not a lot you can do at this time of the year in an old place like the Keep." He, of course, looked perfectly snug, and didn't seem to mind the weather the slightest bit. But then, he was used to it. His parents probably made him sleep with open windows all year long. The skin on her arms rose in gooseflesh at the mere thought.

She was about to say more, when a knock on the door interrupted them and Seneschal Varel's grey head appeared in the doorway. "Commander. His Grace, Teyrn Fergus Cousland is here to see you."

Next to her, Nate tensed, but Alix was too surprised to waste much thought on his reaction. "Teyrn Cousland? What an unexpected honour. Please show him up at once."

Varel must have anticipated her answer, because only moments later, Fergus Cousland was ushered in. His face was flushed from his ride in the cold air, and he was wearing simple hunting leathers, yet his posture and demeanour left no doubt as to his status. Taking off his gloves, he executed a quick, polite bow in Alix' direction, but when he saw Nate, his expression darkened. "Commander Caron. I was hoping to talk to you in private."

"Your Grace." Alix returned the bow, keeping her features carefully composed, though she was quite a bit irritated by his words. "I think Nathaniel should stay, if you don't mind. He's my second-in-command, and-"

"As I said, I'd prefer to talk to you in private." The teyrn's tone was icy, just this side of rude, and Alix felt her left eyebrow fly up.

"I think it's up to me-" She didn't get any further, though.

"Don't bother, Commander." There was a faint, almost imperceptible tremble in Nate's voice, and he was already at the door, reaching for the latch. "You can brief me later." And he was gone.

"Your Grace?" Alix turned to face the teyrn again, not bothering to hide her irritation any more. For a moment, she considered asking him what that whole scene had been about, but then she decided against it. The teyrn barely knew her. He wasn't likely to confide in her, and besides, there were more urgent matters to deal with first. "To what do I owe your unexpected visit?"

"Darkspawn." Fergus Cousland was clearly a man of few words. His handsome face was set in a grim mask of anger, or was it worry? "There have been sightings near Meadowsweet; one of the villages that owe allegiance to Highever. I have come to request your help." It was clear that he didn't like to ask, but at the same time, he was probably smart enough to know that the Wardens were far better equipped to deal with this sort of problem than he was.

Alix nodded. "You shall have it. I can send a few of my Wardens with you straight away. Did your reports say how many?"

"Just a few genlock archers, from the sound of it. So far, no one has been killed, thank the Maker." The teyrn seemed a little more relaxed, now that he knew she would help. Well, at least he cared about the people who farmed his lands. "They may have one of their sorcerers with them, though. Some of the reports mentioned spellcraft."

"An emissary?" Alix frowned. Better send Velanna with him, then. Anders would be an even better choice, but she was reluctant to let him out of her sight for so long. When all was said and done, he was still very much a wanted fugitive in Ferelden, and if she wasn't there to protect him... "All right. My Wardens will be ready to leave in an hour. Or would you rather stay for dinner?"

Fergus Cousland shook his head, his frown back in place. It was really a pity that he seemed so set on being grumpy, Alix thought. She had met the teyrn only briefly before, and she would have liked to get to know him better. After all, they were practically neighbours, and they had plenty of common interests.

But not today, it seemed. "Begging your pardon, Commander, but I really need to get back to Highever." Another quick bow.

"Of course." Alix nodded back.

As soon as they had said their goodbyes and she'd arranged for a small group of Wardens to join the teyrn, she set out to find Nate. But he wasn't at any of his usual haunts. Neither the Great Hall nor the archery range yielded any results, and he wasn't in his room either. She briefly considered checking the library to see if he was with Anders, but on the way there, she ran into Sigrun and, on impulse, decided to ask her.

"Nate? I saw him go up there, about an hour ago." Sigrun pointed towards a side staircase. "Didn't look too good. Any idea what's wrong with him, Commander?"

"Not yet." Alix was getting more confused by the minute, but she was determined to get to the bottom of this.

There was a door at the top of the staircase, and it led to a part of the Keep that she was unfamiliar with. A gallery, with windows on one side and paintings on the other. The walls were hung with family portraits, some of them old enough to almost disappear behind a thick patina of grime and smoke. They depicted a long line of grim-looking Fereldan noblemen, some of them on horseback, others on foot, most of them wearing armour of some kind. There were a few women, too, looking haughty and dressed in somber colours, without frills or fripperies. A serious lot, all of them, and the backgrounds of heavy oaken furniture or soggy landscapes with leaden grey skies didn't help to lighten the atmosphere.

She found Nate at the far end of the gallery, slumped against the outer wall facing the final portrait, a mostly empty wine skin in his hand. He looked dishevelled, and as she approached he took yet another drought straight from the skin, spilling some wine on his jerkin in the process.

"Alix." His speech was only slightly slurred, but his eyes looked bloodshot, as if he'd been crying, and his voice was even more hoarse than usual. "My apologies. I'll be back down in a little while."

She brushed his words away with an impatient gesture. "There's no rush. But…" Her glance fell on the painting, and she hesitated.

It showed a tall, dark man with a hawklike nose, dressed all in black. There were two boys with him, maybe ten and thirteen years old. The older of the two had to be Nate, Alix realised with a pang. The resemblance was quite unmistakable. Which meant that the man was his father, Rendon Howe, who had been killed during the Blight by the Hero of Ferelden, as a punishment for his many crimes. A well-deserved punishment, by all accounts.

He didn't look particularly evil, Alix thought, just a bit severe and rather humourless. His hand was resting on the younger boy's shoulder in a protective gesture, and he seemed proud of his two strapping heirs. But there was a tenseness in the boys' expressions that didn't quite match his fatherly pride, and neither of them was smiling. And suddenly, Alix noticed the long riding whip Rendon Howe was wearing at his side. It seemed an odd choice of accessory to be portrayed with.

"Your father?" Carefully, she placed a hand on Nate's shoulder, but he shook her off with an angry snarl.

"Yeah, that's him. The traitor. The monster. The most hated man in Ferelden." Nate practically spat out the words. "My dearest father."

Alix decided to ignore his outburst. "And your brother?"

"Yes. Tom." For a moment, Nate's face softened, but then grief washed over his features like a sudden flood. "He was a sweet kid. Not all that bright, but-" He broke off. "Doesn't matter. He's gone."

"I'm sorry, Nate." Gingerly, Alix got down on her knees next to him. "But why-"

"Why am I sitting here, wallowing in self-pity?" Nate's voice nearly broke on the last word. "Maybe you should ask Teyrn Cousland." He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "Damn it, we used to be friends. And now, he won't even look at me, did you notice? And who can blame him?"

"Nate, please." Alix was getting a teensy bit impatient. "Won't you tell me-"

He was on his feet in a surprisingly quick and graceful move, staring down at her as if he'd never seen her before. "I don't want to talk about it. Leave me alone, will you? It's none of your business anyway."

Alix was too stunned to reply, watching in silence as he stumbled toward the door and disappeared. What in Thedas was that about?

Anders came to see her, later that night, knocking softly on her door.

"Nate's asleep," he replied to her unanswered question. "I've given him a drought that should help him rest a bit. He's going to have a hell of a hangover, though. And I bet he'll be sorry in the morning." With a sigh, he accepted the offered chair, stretching his long legs. "What did he tell you?"

"Not much." Alix shook her head. "Just that he and Fergus Cousland had been friends. And clearly, they are no longer on speaking terms, but-"

"They were more than just friends," Anders interrupted her. "He wouldn't tell me either, but I got the whole story from Varel one night. It's not pretty."

"Tell me." Alix was just about ready to make it a command. "Now."

Anders nodded. "Fergus Cousland and Nate… they practically grew up together, Alix, almost like brothers. Nate spent most of his summers with the Cousland children, from what I gathered. And I think he was in love with Elissa, Fergus' younger sister, and hoped to marry her. But then, his father sent him away to the Free Marches as a squire or whatever you noble ponces call it, and while he was gone…"

"Arl Howe turned traitor." Alix had been given a quick summary of this part of the story as part of her briefing when she arrived in Ferelden. "He attacked Highever, right?"

"Not so much attacked it." Anders shook his head. "He and his men came there as friends, and then they turned on their hosts during the night. The old teyrn was slain by Arl Howe's soldiers. They killed Elissa and her mother, too, and…" He took a deep breath. "Fergus' wife and his little son were murdered in their beds. The kid was four or five years old, I believe."

For a moment neither of them spoke, until Alix found her voice again. "Maker. What a nightmare."

Anders nodded in agreement. "Yup. I… I don't know about you, but I always thought us mages had it bad. And we do, but this… This is a whole other kind of messed up." He looked up to meet her gaze. "When Nate learned what had happened, he wanted to die. That's why he broke in when you first arrived here. He was hoping for the executioner's axe. A quick, clean death, an end to his pain. He never expected you to pardon him, much less to trust him. It… it means a lot to him, Alix, that you've given him a chance to redeem himself. But he's still hurting. And I think some part of him always will be."

"But none of this is his fault." Alix' heart contracted almost physically at the thought how much pain and guilt Nate was carrying. "He's not his father."

"No, he's not." Anders' smile was slightly crooked, but full of warmth. "But he loved his father, Alix, and he was proud to be an arl's son. You may not have realised it, but Nate can be an arrogant bastard sometimes." There was a world of affection in his tone that belied his words. "I'm not saying I understand it, because, from what I can tell, his father was an abusive asshole, but-"

"Doesn't matter." Alix felt suddenly very tired. She hardly remembered her own parents who'd sent her off to the Circle when she'd been just a little girl, but the few pale memories she had, she still treasured, in spite of everything. "Poor Nate."

Anders nodded quietly. "I should go. Nate-"

"Of course. He needs you." For a heartbeat Alix wanted to join him, but then she decided against it.

Her heart was breaking for Nate, after all those revelations, and she wanted to hold him and comfort him and help him chase away the ghosts of the past. But she firmly told herself that it wasn't her place to do so. Nate had Anders, and he didn't need her. Anders, who knew him and understood him. Anders who loved him deeply and without reservations.

Stay out of this, Alix. It's for the best.

Nate was an early riser as a rule, but he was still fast asleep when Anders got up the next morning, and Anders didn't have the heart to wake him. He looked so exhausted, with deep shadows under his eyes, his cheeks dark with stubble, as if he hadn't rested in years.

But when Anders returned about an hour later, Nate was awake and sitting up, leaning against the headboard. He still looked tired and a bit dishevelled, but no longer quite as wrecked. Which was quite impressive considering the amount of alcohol he'd downed last night.

"Hey there." Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Anders reached out to push back an errant strand of hair from Nate's cheek. "Better now?"

"Much better." Nate cleared his throat. "Alix is going to be mad at me, though."

"Don't worry." Twisting around, Anders took a goblet of water from the nightstand and handed it to him. "I had a chat with her last night. She understands."

"What did you tell her?" Nate almost growled the question, but he eagerly reached for the water, downing it in one big gulp.

"Enough." Anders shook his head. "Now, will you please get over yourself and stop taking out your anger on us? The past is past. No use dwelling on it."

"If only it was so easy." Nate put the goblet aside with a deep sigh. "But for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"No need." Anders shrugged. "You know I love you. It's all good."

"I'm still sorry." Leaning back, Nate stretched lazily, displaying the whole expanse of his bare chest. "Anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Against his will, Anders swallowed, almost overcome by a sudden urge to weave his fingers through the dark curls, and he quickly turned his head to look away and gather his wits. But of course his mind went straight to the obvious answer to Nate's question, even though he was mad at himself for even thinking about sex when Nate was in so much pain. Then again, maybe a little distraction would do him good… No, Anders decided. He wouldn't be so crass as to-

"Come on. You know you want to." To his surprise, Nate was smiling, a slightly lopsided grin, but a smile nevertheless. "Has anyone ever told you that your face is like an open book? I could read every single one of your dirty thoughts there."

Anders felt his cheeks heat up. "I… Oh, damn it, Nate, you tease."

"I wasn't teasing." Nate's hand slowly trailed down the front of his robes. "I'm perfectly serious."

Oh damn. That's not fair. Anders wasn't stupid. He knew why Nate was doing this, knew he hated to be seen as vulnerable, knew he needed to be back in charge. Then again, Anders was not at all averse to giving him what he wanted in this particular case. "Are you sure-"

"Absolutely." Smiling fully now, Nate gently pulled him closer, until Anders was kneeling between his outstretched legs, and slowly and methodically began untying the sash of his robes. "Relax. Let me-"

Already his hands were on Anders' bare skin, going straight for his cock without the slightest hesitation. Anders gasped hard, but he could think of no reason to resist when he was pulled even closer. And suddenly he was engulfed by the warmth of Nate's mouth and it felt so damn good. "Fuck, Nate!" There was nothing he could do except cling to the headboard and hold on for dear life as Nate took him in deep, holding him firmly in place with both hands.

As usual, Anders desperately tried to keep his wits about him for as long as he could, because he wanted to feel exactly what Nate was doing to him, every flick of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth. But, as usual, it was hopeless. Within moments, he was reduced to a shivering mess, whimpering and begging for more. And Nate knew it, of course, the bastard, he knew exactly what he was doing to Anders, and he was enjoying himself tremendously.

Without missing a beat, he looked up to meet Anders' gaze, winking at him to let him know he could let go, and Anders lost it completely, his hips snapping forward of their own accord. There was simply no holding back any more, no matter how hard he tried to be gentle, to be considerate. His whole being was consumed by the need to move, to thrust, hard and fast. And Nate loved it, loved every second of it, judging from the happy noises he was making.

Some part of Anders still couldn't quite believe that it was okay to take his pleasure so shamelessly, so recklessly. The first time he'd allowed that to happen, he'd felt ashamed afterwards, as if he had used Nate. But Nate had been completely unconcerned. "I can take it, you know. It's a simple trick, really. And I love it when you lose control."

Control was the last thing on Anders' mind as he came right into Nate's willing mouth, shivering and moaning, his eyes pressed firmly shut because if he had looked he would have blacked out, he was sure of it. It was a close call as it was. By the time he was thinking clearly again, Nate had just about finished licking him clean and was gazing up at him with a warm smile. "Good?"

"Perfect," was all Anders managed to gasp. He was still seeing stars.

"Glad to hear I can still compete, even without magical talents." Nate was smiling, and his tone was light, but Anders wasn't fooled. Some reassurance was clearly called for.

"You've never needed any magic to drive me crazy, and you know it." Bending down, he caught Nate's lips in a long, hungry kiss, and for what seemed like an eternity, they stayed like this, sharing one breath, drinking in each other's moans and sighs until they finally pulled apart.

"Good. And now…" Nate's voice seemed to have dropped another octave, and his gaze had turned predatory. "My turn."

And Anders was only too happy to let him have his way, lying back and watching, shivering with anticipation as Nate spread his legs and got to work on him, slowly and thoroughly. He wasn't playing around, but he seemed determined to drive Anders to his limits today, and he was taking his own sweet time doing so. By the time Nate finally judged him ready, Anders was half hard again and aching for his lover, yearning to be taken.

"Nate, please. Don't make me wait any longer." He felt a tremble race down his spine at the look on Nate's face. "Please."

"Patience." But Nate was trembling, too, as he carefully aligned himself, keeping his eyes locked on Anders' face when he slowly began pushing forward. "Relax."

"I'm good." And he was, more than good. Arching up high into Nate's embrace, Anders lost himself in the feel of his lover inside him, in the slow, gentle rhythm of his strokes, so deep, so perfect. "Maker, Nate, don't stop. Ever."

"I don't think I can guarantee that." Nate's voice sounded strained already, showing how much the slow pace cost him. "Fuck, Anders, you-" Abruptly, he stopped, holding himself up on both arms, his eyes closed, taking deep laboured breaths, until he had calmed down sufficiently to go on.

Anders did his best to stay calm, to give him a chance to collect himself, though some part of him was sorely tempted to move, to urge Nate on, to break his control. But not this time, he knew instinctively. This time, Nate needed to be the one who set the pace. It took a while, but Nate did regain his focus eventually. Still, when he moved again, it wasn't quite as slowly and gently as before, and Anders revelled in it. Deep, long strokes that rocked him to his very core, each one more forceful than the last, an inexorable build-up that made them both tremble with anticipation.

At some point, Nate reached down to take hold of him, working him in time with his strokes, and everything became twice as intense, twice as overwhelming. Anders didn't even notice the exact moment he tumbled over the edge. All he knew was that suddenly he was crying out, his whole body flooded with an ecstasy so intense there were simply no words for it. And he knew Nate was there with him, he heard his lover gasp and felt him shudder as he reached his own climax, and they were clinging tight to each other, both of them too overcome to speak.

It took them a while to find their bearings afterwards, to clean up and get dressed, ready to face another day. As they left the room, Nate briefly caught his hand, squeezing it hard. "Thank you."

"Thank you." Anders smiled at him. "Come on. Let's find Alix."

Hugs and thanks to suilven! You're the best beta I could ask for :).