-RECKONING-

Chapter Nine

9:30 Dragon

Sharp pain emanating from my back snaps me awake. I grunt and shift in response to the offending object. The person beside me immediately removes their hand from my back and the pain starts to fade. I sigh and lay my head on the pillow again, with my arms crossed under it.

"Is something the matter?" Morrigan asks, putting her hand on the base of my spine instead. It doesn't hurt there. Come to think of it, it's quite odd that the wounds have only just started to hurt now. Did the adrenaline dull the pain yesterday?

"No." I lie, the pillow stifling some of my words. "My back must hurt from all the sleeping I've done on cold floors." I smirk. "Not used to soft beds like these anymore."

Morrigan doesn't reply. She moves her hand upwards and I do my best not to flinch when she touches a sore spot. Ah, she didn't believe me. "Get up and remove your shirt." She stands up with her hand on her hips.

"Is this for last night?" I stall but I smile at her, hoping my hesitation won't be obvious. She's not having any of it though and just glares at me harder. These women must really like ordering me around. Realizing that there's no chance of getting out of this one, I rise slowly and remove my shirt, wincing as the fabric touches a tender wound. Morrigan walks over to the other side of the bed to see my back and she gasps. Does it really look that bad?

"Who did this?" Her fingers tread my back lightly, sending me mixed signals of pain and pleasure.

"I don't know. I was unconscious for some of it, and blindfolded for the other." I made sure to hit that smug guard with his own torture device when I got out of Drakon.

"Those beasts." She mutters angrily. "Lie down on the bed again, face forward."

I oblige. "I didn't think you'd be so… affected. You've seen worse injuries on me before."

"Those injuries were made while you were fighting, not while you were bound and held captive." She scoffs and sits beside me. "If I'm going to kill anything for food, as I do when I hunt, I make sure that 'tis a quick and clean kill. There is no point in prolonging suffering. If they did this to get information, there are other, cleaner ways." She puts her hands on my back and a familiar tingling sensation makes me jerk a bit. She's healing me.

I smile and relax as her magic spreads. Her hands move in a circular motion, making me sleepy.

Something, a lingering fight-or-flight response, a forgotten nightmare, or a sense that something is wrong wakes me with a start. The sudden motion irritates my back wounds a little, but not as much as it would have if Morrigan hadn't healed me. I look around the room. No threats imminent. There's no one else inside. I roll onto my back and stretch. An extinguished candle lies on the nightstand, wax pooling on its dish. The pillows on the other side of the bed are arranged meticulously. Did Morrigan not use them? If the heavy blanket wasn't also ruffled on her side of the bed, I might have thought that she didn't sleep here at all. I remove the blanket and sit up, exposing my skin to the gloomy coolness of the room. The morning is cold, as is customary in Ferelden, further accentuated by the lack a lit fire.

Despite sleeping here for two days, only now do I have the time to admire it. Wooden carvings of mabari decorate the bed and walls. I step on a rug probably made of fennec fur or some other small animal's as I walk towards my pack. A similar rug lies on the other side of the bed. Two larger rugs cover the floor in the middle of the room and by the fireplace. Aside from a few Redcliffe tapestries, wooden furniture, and a couple of bookshelves, there is little else in the way of decoration. Even though, the room has an earthy charm and is somewhat grander than I expected. This must be a room reserved for high ranking nobles. Did Arl Eamon not get the memo? 'Tis a group I no longer belong to.

I rub my arms and torso to get some heat into them. Serves me right for standing around only in breeches. I grimace as I remove the things Alistair and I managed to scavenge from Fort Drakon from my pack. Most of the clothes I have are covered holes or tears, have been made into bandages, or are unsanitary. While the few clothes I have that are still in one piece are not appropriate for wear inside an estate.

I run my hands through my unruly hair in frustration. Maybe there is something in the closet here. I rummage through it, looking for something suitable to wear. I take out a green doublet, colored too brightly for my taste. Upon closer inspection of the doublet's shoulder and torso linings, I see an intricate lace pattern. Too frilly. I sigh and lay the doublet on the bed. Inside the closet lies a few tunics all too fancy for my liking. If it isn't covered in intricate lace patterns, it's too gaudy or embroidered in family crests that are inappropriate for me.

I stand up and frown, still half-naked. Then I realize that I'm looking for plain clothes in earthy, neutral tones which one will hardly find in a noble's house. Months of living on the streets and woods have affected me more than I realized. I shrug and rummage through the closet again, picking a white silk shirt, and dark brown pants.

I wince. More from the reluctance to wear such things again rather than from the pain in my back. My body moves mechanically as I put them on, my hands going through the complicated yet practiced motions involved in wearing such frilly clothes. I look at myself in the mirror and see Aedan Cousland, younger son of Teryn Bryce, not Aedan Cousland, the Warden. My chest tightens at the sight.

I do not like what I see.

I am not a noble anymore. These clothes do not suit me. These clothes are not for me. I am not a noble anymore. Grey Wardens do not hold titles.

I get the urge to tear the clothes off but pinch myself instead. I- I am being ridiculous. Simple clothes shouldn't have such an effect on me. Stop thinking about what happened. It's over. Done.

A dark blue vest that must have fallen while I was looking through the closet lies on the floor. I raise it up. Dark blue is… a Cousland color. No. 's just a vest. A thick leather vest that can stop an ill-aimed dagger or arrow. Just a vest. I bite my lip and put it on. Just a vest. Dark blue is also a Grey Warden color. Yes, Grey warden. The thought cheers me up and relieves some of the pressure on my chest.

The mirror still shows me an image of someone who doesn't exist anymore, an imposter. My hands are shaking. I vigorously rub them together, trying to force the shakiness out of them. Damn it. I throw my hands up. Being picky is unlike me. If I hate it so much then maybe I should find proper clothes elsewhere. To hell with this nonsense. I have a job to do.

No sooner than I have walked a few steps from my door, a dog barks from the room next to mine. I step closer to investigate, a knot forming in my stomach. The dog barks some more. A vase suddenly breaks. I rush towards the door and slam into it with my shoulder. My body tenses in preparation for conflict.

My mouth opens at the sight in front of me. Zephyr wags his tail, his posterior raised, playfully barking at the woman on the ground. It's Anora. Again. Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

"Maker!" An Orlesian accent cries out. Erlina, Anora's handmaiden, avoids me as she rushes through the door. "Your Majesty, are you okay?" She kneels over her mistress and helps her up. What in Thedas is Zephyr doing here?

"Warden!" Erlina snaps once Anora has stood up. I remove my hand that is still on the door and scratch the back of my neck. "Please restrain your hound!"

"I-I..." I shake out my hands and cough to get myself under control. "Zephyr. To me." The mabari looks at me innocently and whines.

"I will be alright, Erlina." Anora says, oddly enough, she doesn't look angry. Were they… playing? No. Not possible. "It wasn't Zephyr's fault. It was mine." She continues. I raise my eyebrows at this. "I will be fine." She repeats, dismissing Erlina.

The poor elf looks as helplessly confused as I must. Yet, she bows slightly and leaves.

"Uhh…" My mouth opens and closes. I should probably apologize for last night. Anora gives me an odd look, her gaze darting from my clothes to my face. I feebly attempt to loosen my collar. She then, steps forward and gives me a withering stare. I blink… I should really apologize. Her eyes narrow. She tilts her head.

Then I realize I am still blocking the door.

I step away immediately and she steps out, Zephyr following. She continues walking.

"An- Your Highness, wait." I step forward and she stops.

"I shall wait for you in the Arl's study, Warden. We have much to discuss." She motions for Zephyr to follow and resumes walking.

Traitorous dog.

I sigh and rub my temples. Maker, I think I'd rather go back to the Deep Roads.

9:16 Dragon

"What is the largest city in Thedas?"

"Is it in Nevarra?" I ask while twirling a quill in my fingers. "Um, Cumberland?"

Tutor Aldous smiles. "Cumberland is one of the largest cities in Thedas, true. But it isn't the largest."

"Minrathous, the capital of the Tevinter Imperium."

"Correct!" The tutor's eyes light up and I feel a little sorry for him. All this time he'd been stuck with me and Fergus. The boys who escape History every chance they got. "Lady Mac Tir seems to be studying diligently." He beamed at Anora, who basked in the attention she received, naturally. I roll my eyes. "Unlike a certain young lord who shall not be named." He frowns slightly at me. I scratch my neck.

"Well." Tutor Aldous claps his hands and folds his sleeves, leaving traces of ink on them. He then laid an unmarked map of Ferelden on the table in front of us. "Maybe we should move a little closer to home." He points to the Arling of Amaranthine. "Lord Cousland. Ruling house, sigil, and current ruler?"

"The Howes, Pawing bear over a white and yellow quarterly, Arl Rendon Howe."

"Very good, m'lord." Tutor Aldous points to an area north of the Brecilian Forest.

"Denerim? No. Dragon's Peak." I scratch my jaw. I know this. "The Sighards, A moon and five stars, aand... Bann Turly Sighard."

"Good. See, this isn't so bad." He smiles and I start to smile back until he smears ink in a circle around his mouth.

"Tutor Aldous…" Anora points to her own mouth, trying to get his attention.

"The both of you may eat later, young lady. After Lord Cousland answers a few more questions." Anora and I share a look, unsure if we were to laugh or help the tutor.

"Give me the five major Ferelden houses, in order."

"Shouldn't you already know this by heart?" Anora raises her eyebrows, after staring a bit more at the ink stains.

I glare at her. I don't even want to be here. Not when I could be outside playing or watching the soldiers. Unlike a know-it-all like her, I know what's really fun.

"Now, now. Give him a chance."

I stare sullenly at the unmarked map. "Theirin, Cousland." I turn the stare to Lady Candles & Parchment. "Howe." Her eyebrows arch. "Guerrin, and Bryland." She frowns. Now what kind of kid does that? She should be glaring. Not frowning.

Tutor Aldous coughs awkwardly as he looks at the two of us. "Although the Brylands are influential, Lord Cousland, their influence has waned with the rise of the Guerrins." He folds his arms. "And the Mac Tirs." He says with a wave of his hand towards Candles & Parchment. I roll my eyes inwardly. "As the teryn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir holds an office equal to that of your father's. As the youngest of the noble houses, they have a lot to prove." She narrows her eyes at him, confused. "But I think they're up to the task." He claps his hands. "All right that's enough for the day. The two of you can go."

Finally! I stand up and gather my things. As soon as I step into the hall, Zephyr almost bowls me over as he greets me. Laughing, I pet his head and ruffle his face. I regret it a moment later when my hands encounter dog saliva.

"Zephyr!" Anora greets him beside me and the dog barks in delight. She's been here for two summers already and I still don't understand her. Loghain's daughter is nice to be with, definitely less irritating than Habren, even though she is a little bossy. She's smart and reads a lot; I often spot her in the library reading some book. But I think she prefers Zephyr's company over mine. Does she prefer the company of mabari and books over people her age? And how can she stand so much reading? The only exercise she must get is from playing with my mabari.

I must have been looking at her weirdly because her eyes narrow in my direction. "What?" She curtly asks with a tilt of her head.

"Nothing." I shrug. "I just… don't understand you."

She raises an eyebrow and gets this calculating look in her eyes. I squirm inwardly. That look makes me defensive. I do not like it. "So, I assume you're over that juvenile outburst?" She says after a pause.

Changing the subject… someone doesn't want to talk about herself.

"Yes." I say in a bored tone as I cross my arms. "I suppose I should have known better than to cross your family off the list of Ferelden's most powerful." Anora smirks. So predictable. "After all, there are other, better ways to get on your nerves." I smirk, referencing the time I put a crushed spider as a bookmark in her favorite book. She didn't speak to me for weeks afterward.

She is obviously not pleased and looks at me darkly. I laugh at the look on her face. "Have you checked your copy of In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar? You might find some…thing there." I smile evilly wiggling my fingers, as her eyes widen in fear.

She punches my shoulder. Hard. "Ow!" I grimace.

Anora points a finger at my face, furious. "Don't you dare-" She suddenly puts her pack to the ground and rummages through her stuff. I take a few steps back and Zephyr sits down, watching us. She doesn't have her copy with her though. It's in the library. She frantically looks at me, coming to the same conclusion as she can't find her book. A small part of me pities her for leading her on like this.

She stands immediately. "I swear, Aedan. If I find…" She says through gritted teeth. She huffs. "I am going to ruin that book you like so much."

I raise an eyebrow. Who does she think she's talking to? I'm not like her. "This is me you're talking to. I'm not a bookworm like you."

"Oh?" Anora blows a stand of hair that fell to her face. "A Meditation upon the Use of Blades?"

My smile fades. "What? Hey, hey, no. I was joking! Your book is fine! It's perfectly safe in the library!" I bite my lip.

"It should be." She purses her lips. Then, she gives me another weird look. "There is still some hope for you, Lord Cousland." She says with a lopsided smile. I frown at her, warily. "You are going to learn…"

I narrow my eyes. What the heck is she talking about?

Author's Note:Here it is! The ninth chapter. I'm sorry for taking so long to upload this since I was dealing with tons of schoolwork. Cheers to all the reviewers and followers out there. A great many thanks to my betas as well. Thanks guys! Couldn't have done this without you. :) Happy reading!

Also, in case you guys are curious, the book In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar was written by Brother Genetivi. Most of the Codex entries regarding history, places, some folklore, etc. across all three games came from that book. A Meditation upon the Use of Blades, on the other hand, was written by Swordmaster Massache de Jean-mien, and is required reading at the Academie des Chevaliers. Codex entries regarding soldier and/or warrior enemies in Inquisition mostly came from that book. The books just seemed to suit Anora's and Aedan's personalities so I thought that it fit them well.