Aedan finds it hard not to think, during that first day in the Keep, of how Nathaniel would feel (will feel, if and when he returns) about what has happened to his childhood home. His family ousted from their lands, the name of Howe dragged through the dirt, and Vigil's Keep turned into little more than an over-large guard house for an order Nathaniel had shown little respect for. It doesn't seem fair, and Aedan has visions of Nathaniel hurt and angry on his return, perhaps even holding Aedan responsible for the loss.
But he never imagined that Nathaniel would ever look at him with an expression of such pure hatred.
"If it isn't the great hero," says Nathaniel with a bitterness Aedan has not seen in him before. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall? With lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?"
"The darkspawn probably think so," replies Aedan. He still can't get over the strangeness of seeing Nathaniel here, arrested as a thief and imprisoned in his own home. He looks much the same as he did the last time Aedan saw him, but older, his face gaunt and lined and his hair longer and unkempt.
"And then you kill them? The Grey Wardens do that a lot," says Nathaniel. "As my father found out too late." Nathaniel's glare relents at last, for a moment, and he looks at the floor. "I came here... I thought I was going to try to kill you."
Aedan stares at him in disbelief. "Kill me?" he says. "To avenge you father? But…he killed my parents! And Oriana and my nephew and…and everyone. Fergus and I were lucky to escape with our lives! And the things I saw in his dungeons…I had no choice Nathaniel. The man was a traitor."
"So they say," says Nathaniel. But his voice has lost it's fire. He looks up at Aedan again. "I thought I was going to kill you. But then I realised that all I really wanted was some of the family's things. It's all I have left."
"Then you will have them," says Aedan. "But…I still can't believe that you would even think of killing me. Does our friendship mean nothing to you? Do you know me so little that you think that I would murder your father without provocation?"
"I knew you seven years ago," says Nathaniel. "And I valued our friendship more than you can know. But the Aedan Cousland I knew then is not the man I see before me now."
And that is true enough.
Nathaniel shifts his feet uncomfortably within the bounds of his chains, his thin boots already coated in a visible layer of dirt and whatever other filth lines the cell floor. "I am sorry about your family," he says. "I had heard that your father was dead but I had thought…I assumed it was an unfortunate accident of war, not an assassination. If my father was responsible, if he stooped to killing children then…then I suppose that I cannot blame you for wanting to avenge them."
He balls his hands into fists and scowls at the rough metal bars that contain him and he is still, Maker take him, the most beautiful thing Aedan has ever seen.
"But if you killed my father as a traitor, why not Loghain? He was by all accounts the architect of all that transpired, and yet he died a hero's death by your side. And why kill Vaughan, and Lady Isolde? I have heard that you used blood magic, that you surrounded yourself with apostates and murderers, that you formed alliances with werewolves and monsters. I discounted the stories at first, but even your supporters agree that you committed more terrible things than I could ever have imagined…what happened to you? What dark bargains have you struck to gain such power?"
"I did what I had to do to defeat the Blight," says Aedan. "I am not proud of all the things I have done, but they were necessary. Do not think you have the right to judge me."
"And was it necessary that you become Arl of Amaranthine? That you turn my family into pariahs and take our lands for yourself?"
Aedan sighs. "No it was not. But that was Anora's doing. The Grey Wardens needed a home and she…for whatever reason she decided that Vigil's Keep should be it. It was not done on my account, I am fairly sure she would have made an Orlesian elf mage the Arl if circumstances required it. In fact I sometimes wonder if she gave me this post to keep me distracted and out of Denerim. As for your family's name…people needed someone to blame for the civil war and everything else that happened. Loghain killed the archdemon, which makes him a hero, and your father made a more convenient villain. And I'm sorry Nathaniel, but he was a villain."
Aedan can see the doubt in Nathaniel's eyes. He had always seen the best in his father.
There is no chair in the cell, nothing but chains and a bucket. Looking tired and dispirited, Nathaniel sits on the floor and leans against the wall. "You know," he says, "there is talk in Denerim, about you and Anora. They say that you are the reason she refuses to ever remarry. That you live openly as a man, that you have seduced her and are King of Ferelden in all but name."
"So I have heard it said," says Aedan.
"There are other darker rumours," continues Nathaniel. "That your lover is an elf, an Antivan assassin, and that it is he who really decides what happens in Ferelden. That this is why we are suddenly so open to forming alliances with other nations, and why the elves have been receiving so much special treatment. That…"
"Enough," says Aedan. He had not been aware that anyone thought Zevran the real power behind the throne. Under other circumstances he might almost find the idea amusing.
"Do you deny it?" asks Nathaniel.
"No," says Aedan. Nathaniel looks shocked. Well, that's something. "Because if you can believe that," Aedan continues, angrily, "Then I see no point in talking to you any further."
Seneschal Varel has arrived, and is standing patiently waiting for Aedan's decision. Aedan turns to him. "Give him his family's things, and let him go."
Nathaniel exclaims in shock and Varel rejects the order. "Commander, that's... I must object!"
"He is not his father," says Aedan. "And at worst he was trespassing. But I will not be so lenient if he trespasses again." Unconvinced but obedient, Varel starts releasing Nathaniel and retrieving his effects. Aedan does not stay to watch, he has wasted enough of his life dealing with the consequences of Howe betrayal.
It is no easier to put Nathaniel out of his mind after meeting him again than it was before. Every room of the Keep holds memories of their childhoods here together. Aedan thinks of Thomas and Delilah as well. It seems that Thomas is dead, drowned in his own excess, but he doesn't know what happened to Delilah and hopes she has somehow escaped the fallout from her father's betrayal.
And yet the Keep is not the same as it was. The Orlesians have left their mark, changes made out of a mixture of practical necessity and foreign tastes keep catching him unawares. On the whole he prefers it, Vigil's Keep is a much more pleasant place now that it bustles with dwarves and merchants and soldiers happy in their duty than it was when Arl Howe's presence loomed in every shadow.
Even though he did not seek the position, Aedan is glad to be Arl. There are many challenges to overcome, but he hasn't spent the last half year helping run the country for nothing, and Amaranthine is not even as large as Highever. Which is not to say that it is easy, especially in the wake of the Blight. But on the whole he is more concerned with the state of the Grey Wardens. Having only three in the whole country is perhaps not so bad when you consider that they defeated the Archdemon with two, but back then the darkspawn didn't talk. He desperately needs more recruits.
And to be honest Aedan isn't entirely sure of the ones he has. Anders is powerful enough, but not exactly trustworthy. Aedan doubts that he has anything as nefarious in mind as summoning an ancient evil, but he wouldn't be surprised to wake up one morning and discover that the apostate has escaped.
And Oghren…Oghren is not the man he once was.
It is with these thoughts preying on him, with the number of tasks that must be completed building up with never enough men or resources to do them, that Aedan encounters Nathaniel again.
They are just outside Vigil's Keep. Everyone is tired and looking forward to finally finding some rest after a long day walking the streets of Amaranthine chasing up hunter's tales and tavern gossip, and Aedan doesn't notice Nathaniel's approach until he is right in front of them.
"Careful," says Oghren, "This one might just go all Zevran on you." But Nathaniel no longer has that dangerous look in his eye.
"You set me free," he says. "Just let me go, despite what I said or what I might do. I want to know why."
Aedan looks at him sadly. "You know why."
Nathaniel lets out a breath. Aedan starts to turn away.
"Wait," says Nathaniel. "Take me with you. Make me a Grey Warden."
A Grey Warden! Aedan's first instinct is to refuse. But Nathaniel is a skilled fighter, and whatever his opinion of Aedan he is a good man who will do his duty, and they need all the help they can get.
"You think this will redeem your name, do you?" says Aedan.
"I don't know." replies Nathaniel. "Maybe that's not even important."
Aedan wonders if Nathaniel realises what he's signing up for. He thinks of Mhairi and Daveth and the Orlesians. But it is not his choice to make. "Very well," says Aedan. "Come. We'll see how you do with the Joining."
As they walk to the Keep Anders looks at Nathaniel with distrust. "I remember when he was captured," he says to Aedan. "Nasty business. In your future, I sense a knife in the back. Just saying."
"Yes, because I should never trust anyone I met in a Vigil's Keep jail cell," says Aedan.
"…point."
"Guess it just goes to show we'll let anyone into this outfit," says Oghren. He tilts his head up at Aedan and smirks. "You know, those were some pretty significant looks you two were sharing. Maybe we should be expecting this one to go all Zevran on you…"
"Shut up, Oghren," says Aedan.
It's really quite remarkable how quickly Nathaniel manages to charm himself into everyone's good graces. Even during the first few weeks, when he spends his time snapping at everyone and glowering at shadows, he manages to at least give Anders some entertainment by acting as his grumpy straight-man. And by the time they finally meet this Architect and start to figure out what is going on with these talking darkspawn he has Oghren and half the staff openly singing his praises and has even managed to flirt with Velanna, despite her having been only recently been persuaded not to kill all humans on sight.
"Still have a thing for blondes, Nathaniel?" asks Aedan. They are sitting up on one of the battlements, high above the Keep and only accessible via an out of the way attic. Delilah had shown it to Aedan when they were children, it was a favourite hiding spot for she and her brothers when Arl Howe was in a temper. The view is spectacular, and it's one of the few places Aedan can go to where he knows noone will find him. Well, noone but Nathaniel.
"Jealous?" Nathaniel replies.
"Not as such," says Aedan. "But it would be nice if she didn't hate me quite so much. Not that she doesn't have some justification, I suppose." He looks out at the forest that extends tendrils around the Keep and wonders if any elves live there, and if Velanna would know them. "Perhaps you could tell her that I'm part of the elvish conspiracy to take over Ferelden," he adds. "That might bring her on side a bit."
Nathaniel doesn't answer for a while. Ever since meeting Delilah again and hearing the truth about his father he has stopped doubting Aedan's motives and wallowing in the perceived injustice, but things are still a little awkward between them. "I am truly sorry about that," he says, eventually. "I never really believed those rumours I just…I just wasn't sure what to believe. One day my father is a war hero and you're an inexperienced boy, the next you're the war hero and he's an evil traitor, dead at your hands. I couldn't believe it. More fool me for having a lack of imagination, I suppose. I think I always knew what my father was, deep down. And anyone who'd been paying attention would have seen you for what you are, even then."
"Which is?" asks Aedan.
"A great man." Nathaniel smiles, the wind whipping his hair around his face. "And a good friend."
"Hit him again!"
Nathaniel staggers, the force of Velanna's spell bringing him to his knees. He groans and tries to stand, but is knocked down by another arcane bolt.
"Come on Nathaniel," says Sigrun cheerfully, "You can do better than that! Didn't you say you'd been toughened up by a whole month of life on the streets?"
"Do you think he'll be alright?" asks Anora. She been avoiding Velanna ever since the elf had cornered her at their first meeting and demanded to know exactly what Anora was going to do about land rights for the Dalish. Anora had only been able to make her escape once she had promised to set up a meeting between the local Keepers and their more independent counterparts in the south, and every time that Aedan had seen the two of them after that Velanna had been taking Anora to task for some injustice or another, specific or general.
"Oh, yes," says Aedan. "I and Oghren had to put with the same thing when we learned how to block magic. He should just be glad he never had to defend himself against Morrigan."
Nathaniel has pulled himself up onto his elbows and gives Sigrun a pained, apologetic smile. "It is possible that I overestimated my stamina. Could we perhaps postpone this…experiment until I have had a little longer to practice what you taught me, Sigrun?"
"Of course," she says with just a hint of condescension, "I know how delicate you nobles can be. Let me know when you think you're ready."
"You're stopping?" says Anders. "But I didn't even get to have a go!"
After the first attempt on Aedan's life Anora had declared that she would make a formal visit to Amaranthine.
Aedan was against it: it is one thing for danger to threaten an Arl, and quite another for it to threaten the life of the queen. The country is not ready for another argument about the succession.
But Anora had been determined. Doubts about Aedan's position damage the Grey Wardens and the stability of the region as a whole, and the quickest way to stifle those doubts was with an explicit show of support from the crown. "Besides," she had added in her letter, "You have been too busy to come visit me in the capital and I miss having someone sensible to disagree with."
Having Anora and her entourage at the Keep makes it almost feel like a real castle rather than a glorified military base. They even have a proper feast, with musicians and dancing and an embarrassing amount of food. (Sigrun refuses to be convinced that such profligacy can be justified when the peasants are starving, though she is slightly mollified by Aedan letting her organise the giving of any leftovers to the poor) Aedan dances with Anora of course, in an absurdly expensive outfit that his tailor assures him is the height of fashion and with a complicated sequence of dancesteps that make him constantly feel like he's about to fall over his feet. Such is the price of politics.
As they spin and turn in the long line of couples Aedan says "You know this won't help with all the rumours about us."
"Let them talk," says Anora. "I am a young royal widow, people would talk if they thought I didn't have a lover. And I could certainly do worse." She smiles lightly and they whirl away from each other to grasp the hands of the next set of partners. Aedan bows to the tall young woman in front of him, the daughter of one of the local lords, and she curtsies and looks bored. Aedan glances over to see how Anora is doing and sees that, whether by accident or design, she is dancing with Nathaniel.
Nathaniel and Anora have spoken before during her visit: she was introduced to all the Grey Wardens, and the two of them were both included in several discussions with Varel and Aedan on various affairs of state to do the with arling. But Aedan is reasonably certain that this is the first time they have spoken alone since Nathaniel left for the Free Marches.
Anora is smiling at least, which is a good sign. Still, it's none of Aedan's business. He turns back to his partner. "Catherine, isn't it?" he says "Lord Eddelbrek's daughter? Am I right in remembering that you like horses?"
It's hard to tell whether or not the feast is a success. The nobles all seem happy enough when they leave, laughing and full of fine food and wine, but the conspirators had on the whole seemed happy enough after they gave their oaths of fealty. Anora and Aedan stand smiling and waving and trying to look as untroubled and united as possible as the last reveller is sent on his way. As the door closes Aedan says "Is you face sore from smiling? Because mine is."
"You should see the functions I've been forced to attend in Orlais, they can go on for days," she replies. "Sometimes by the end I could barely stand. And I think that went well. Now if you don't mind I shall go to bed, I have a long journey back to Denerim ahead of me tomorrow. If I don't see you before then it was good to talk to you, Aedan, I thank you for your hospitality and I hope to see you again soon."
He nods and wishes her goodnight, before wandering towards the high table, where Oghren and Anders are rapidly demolishing what's left of the wine. Aedan grabs a few pieces of food, having been too busy during the night to find much time to eat, and looks for somewhere more quiet to sit.
He eventually sits himself next to Nathaniel, who is dozing against a pillar in a darkened corner of the throne room, half falling out of his chair.
Life as a Grey Warden seems to be agreeing with Nathaniel, he doesn't have the haggard look he did when Aedan found him in that prison cell two months ago. It's strange to see him in formal clothes again after only seeing him in armour for so long. He wears them well, though Aedan still prefers the leather skirt.
Nathaniel opens his eyes. "Were you watching me sleep?"
"Maybe," says Aedan. Nathaniel looks at him oddly for a moment then rubs his face and sits up. "Did I miss any more assassination attempts?"
"Not that I noticed," says Aedan. He offers Nathaniel a chicken leg from his plate and the two of them eat in silence for a while.
"So," says Aedan, "Let's pretend I thought of some tactful way to ask how things are between you and Anora."
"Fine," says Nathaniel. "More than fine, really, we got along surprisingly well. I think that in time we might even be able to be friends." He smiles, but then raises his eyebrows quizzically at Aedan's expectant expression. "What you were expecting more than that? I still care a great deal for Anora but I'm not in love with her. I think we'd be much happier as friends, anyway. It's been eight years, Aedan, I'm not such a romantic fool as to hold onto hope for that long." "No, of course not," says Aedan. "That would be foolish indeed." He pokes at the remaining scraps of food on his plate. "Do you want some wine? I'm suddenly feeling thirsty."
Justice is dead.
Perhaps that is all that needs to be said.
Aedan had not known the people of Amaranthine as he had those of Highever, had not been raised to see their fortunes as an extension of his own, but in his months as their Arl he had started to feel some connection to the land, and to see it's inhabitants as his people. As he walks the barren streets of Amaranthine, it's windows boarded up and alleyways only recently emptied of the bodies of the dead he feels like a part of himself has died, a part that had barely begun to heal after the betrayal of Highever. But Highever had rebuilt, as had Denerim, and so would Amaranthine.
The Keep has faired a little better, it's inhabitants kept relatively safe behind it's strong dwarf-built walls. But they are not without their losses.
Aedan and the others had not known Justice well, had barely begun to get to know the spirit before the Mother had attacked and brought the whole sorry mess to it's violent bitter end. But he had been a comrade, and a Grey Warden, and they all feel the loss of his passing. Aedan likes to think that Justice passed back into the Fade, and looks back fondly on his brief journey into the mortal realm.
It is only Nathaniel and Velanna who know that it was Aedan who killed him.
Velanna does not appear conflicted about it. She has, after all, killed for her sister's sake many times before, and often with less justification. Still, she is quiet afterwards, and later insists that they hold a ceremony in Justice's honour, separate to the one for Kristoff.
But Nathaniel is horrified. When Aedan insists on helping the Architect and Justice retaliates against Aedan Nathaniel immediately come to his aid, but he does not attack, only blocking Justice's sword with his own and trying to persuade him to stop, saying that there must be some compromise they can come to. But you cannot compromise with justice.
When Justice is dead, Kristoff's rotten body collapsing into dust on the slime encrusted floor, Nathaniel lets his arms drop, his blades hanging by his sides, and looks at Aedan with dismay. "How can this be right? To take the side of this monster, this…ambomination against the spirit of justice itself? Is this what you meant when you said that you would do whatever is necessary to protect Ferelden? Is this the kind of man you became to defeat the Blight."
"Yes," says Aedan. "It is. I learned to stop putting my faith in justice a long time ago. And I'm sorry it came to this, I really am, but we do not have time to stop and discuss your moral qualms. For now let's just focus on defeating the darkspawn."
When the battle is over, when they have returned to the Keep and counted their losses, when they have gathered what is left of Kristoff's body to return to his wife and begun the long process of burying the dead, Aedan lets himself stop and consider his own moral qualms, and asks himself those same questions. Did he make the right choice? Could it be right to trust the word of a darkspawn, one who has already shown himself willing to kill and experiment on Grey Wardens to suit his own ends? Even if the Architect was telling the truth, are more intelligent darkspawn really something the world needs more of?
But the decision is made and there's no going back on it now. If Aedan let himself wallow in regret about every questionable decision he's made he'd never have time to do anything else. Better to accept what is done and enjoy the unexpected peace while it lasts. Because it never lasts for long.
"Tell me Anders," says Zevran, "Is it all women mages who have such magnificent bosoms, or just the ones I have met?"
"Not all of them, no" says Anders, laughing. "Or I might not have run away from the Tower quite so many times."
The subject of their discussion has blushed a bright scarlet and crossed her arms over her robes. They are, it must be admitted, quite low-cut, but that's no reason to make her uncomfortable.
"Leave Velanna be," says Aedan. "Or I'll give her permission to set you on fire."
"Ah, I apologise if I have caused offence," says Zevran. "I only meant to compliment your beauty, fair mage."
"Then you should remember that I am a Dalish keeper," she says coldly. "Not one of these paltry Circle mages. Please word any future compliments with that in mind."
They are all sitting around a large table sharing drinks after the evening meal. Zevran has been entertaining the Wardens with tales of his daring defeat of the Antivan Crows, while they have been telling him about how they came to join the Wardens and of the goings on in Amaranthine. Aedan had just finished telling Zevran how they'd unexpectedly encountered Wynne in the city, and that had inevitably led to the discussion of magical bosoms.
"Your friend is very…demonstrative, isn't he?" says Nathaniel. He and Aedan are sitting a little apart from the others, after Zevran had shuffled over towards Anders and Velanna to discus mages and then wandered off to the library to find a book he'd heard about from Sigrun.
"That's one word for it," says Aedan. Zevran's boat arrived from Antiva only yesterday, and he's already made a serious stab at seducing all the new Wardens except Oghren. (Who made it very clear he wasn't interested back during the Blight, and is regardless off with Felsi making another try at being a decent father)
"Does it bother you?" asks Nathaniel.
"No, not really" says Aedan. "Zevran and I don't have that sort of relationship. We were never really that compatible anyway, we just got thrown together during the Blight. Not that it isn't good to see him, but if he does somehow manage to entice Velanna to overcome her disdain for city elves I will be very happy for them both. Assuming they don't kill each other." He looks at Nathaniel. "Does that bother you?"
"Not as long as you're happy," says Nathaniel, but he does not sound entirely sincere. Nathaniel and Aedan have mostly come to terms with each other since Justice's death, but Nathaniel has been a little odd around Aedan since Zevran's arrival. "I must admit…I would not be satisfied with such a relationship myself. I suppose I am too selfish to share." "I can be pretty selfish too, depending on the circumstances," says Aedan. "I've actually been thinking of properly breaking things off with Zevran, the ambiguity can…get in the way, sometimes. And I feel certain he'll find some way to console himself for the loss."
Zevran has returned from the library and is happily reading the contents of his book to anyone who'll listen. He is also trying to conscript Anders and Sigrun into helping him do the voices without much success.
Nathaniel smiles at Aedan, the first real smile he's seen from him in a while. "Yes," he says, "I think you may be right."
The first time Nathaniel kisses Aedan it is both unexpected and inevitable.
Zevran has left to finish his business in Antiva, unflatteringly comfortable with the breakup and promising to return in a few months to see how everyone is going.
Aedan is thinking of leaving as well. The Keep has mostly recovered from the darkspawn attack, and while the city of Amaranthine is still being rebuilt it's people have found a sort of interim stability, and with Varel's help the arling is mostly able to run itself.
"Will you be back?" asks Nathaniel.
"Of course," says Aedan. "I have a responsibility to the arling and the Grey Wardens, I'm not going to give that up. Not to mention that I like it here. But I have unfinished business in Denerim, and I want to visit Fergus and see Highever again." He looks at Nathaniel. They are sitting in Aedan's chambers, in a light airy room whose window looks out onto the Keep. Nathaniel's hair shines red and black in the afternoon sunlight. "What about you?" asks Aedan. "Thanks to the Orlesians we have more than enough Grey Wardens here to deal with what darkspawn threat remains. Will you stay on or would you rather find some other purpose?"
"Would you want me to go?" asks Nathaniel.
"No," says Aedan, reaching across his hand to lay it on Nathaniel's.
"Well," says Nathaniel, "I have no intention of leaving."
"Good," says Aedan. He finds his hand slipping off Nathaniel's hand onto his knee, and he shifts forwards slightly on the bench they are both sitting on. He looks up at Nathaniel. "What do you think of me?" he asks.
"What do I think of you?"
"Yes. When I was a child you were the ideal I aspired to, my model of who I wanted to be. My love for you then was that of a child, a dream, and I realise now that you're just a man like any other, with your own problems, your own flaws. But you are still my closest friend and I admire you more than I can express. I feel as if we have found something together now, something new. And I need to know. What do you think of me?"
Nathaniel looks at Aedan seriously. He puts his hand on his shoulder. "Well…" he says. And then he kisses him.
The world stops and then slips away, until it consists of nothing but Nathaniel. The experience is at once familiar and strange and entirely wonderful.
"Wait," says Aedan, a little breathlessly. "You didn't answer my question."
"Yes I did," says Nathaniel.
"Well I find your answer ambiguous," he replies.
"Then you weren't paying attention."
Aedan pokes him in the stomach.
"Fine," says Nathaniel. "You are also just a man, one with many flaws, one who has been scarred by the path he has had to tread." He runs his fingers gently over Aedan's face, his thumb pausing on the edge of his lips, where the scratch of a drake's claw has never quite properly healed. "But you are a good man, possibly the best I have ever known. And whatever path you choose to take from here, I can think of no greater honour than to walk it by your side."
And then Nathaniel explains again until his meaning is clear.