Reflection

Nathaniel returned to the Vigil at dusk, having visited his sister and husband, feeling somewhat satisfied with his current state of affairs.

Since coming back to Vigil's Keep that night so many months ago, his life had been flipped upside down, shaken, and rearranged, in almost every way imaginable.

He had returned here intent on the destruction of the Warden Commander. Nathaniel had spent days outside of the keeps walls, hiding in the shadows, observing the intruders in his home, HIS home. When he finally felt sure that the Commander's arrival was imminent, he had snuck through one of the many ancient tunnels that ran throughout the fortress.

Once inside though, he had begun to overhear conversations that had made his resolve weaken. Snippets of things, regarding his father, that he had heard murmurs of in his travels back to Amaranthine. Niggling little things, that when all together had begun to add up to some doubt of his father's innocence.

Ultimately though, it had been overhearing Seneschal Varel speaking with Mistress Woolsley about their new commander that saved her life.

"Her background, Varel; that is my main concern! She is so young and so new to the Warden's" the older lady had been saying. "Hero or no, she may not be up to the task of ruling this keep, and this troubled land."

Nathaniel was perched in the high rafters of the hall, looking down as the man and woman walked across the hall together.

"It is my understanding from the King, that she is the daughter of the late Teyrn of Highever, well educated, and raised on and off at court." Nathaniel had been so shocked he had almost lost his grip on the beam he was balanced on. Steadying himself he listened on, "He has professed absolute faith in her, and as the seneschal of this keep, she will have my full support and guidance."

"We shall see," Mistress Woolsley had said through drawn lips.

He had watched them exit and crept back into the eves. He sat for several minutes in silence, simply overcome with shock.

"Jules is the Warden Commander, the Hero of Ferelden?" he finally whispered aloud.

Juliette Cousland had been a friend to him in every situation imaginable. From the time she could toddle, he had found her at his heels, with a sweet grin and an easy disposition. As she had grown older, her wit became sharpened on many a village bully, and her kindness to those around her obvious. She could dance a jig that had made ever man of Highever proud that she was their teyrn's daughter, and her laughter had been infectious.

But to Nathaniel, there had been one defining moment between them that forever changed the way he felt about her. While the Cousland family was visiting, he and Juliette had been sprawled onto the gallery floor, looking at picture books together, lost in childhood day dreams. They both heard his father yelling at his grandmother, and Nathaniel grabbed her up and they hid behind the bookcase, while his father stormed through. But in his haste to hide them from his father's wrath, he had left a few books on the floor. Arl Howe kicked them as he went through the room.

"No respect for what I have earned! Just like that bitch!" Rendon Howe said and screamed for Nathaniel. He left their hiding place, but had told Juliette to stay.

Nathaniel faced his raging father, who proceeded to say every horrible thing that could be said to a 13 year old boy. He ended his tirade with a hard backhand to Nathaniel's face, and a shove into a tableside. Arl Howe had then stomped away, leaving his son on his knees.

Nathaniel had never been more humiliated in his entire life. Not because of the smack and shove, but because his father had done it in front of Juliette. Teyrn Cousland had never once lost his temper in all the years he had known him, had never once cuffed Fergus, or scowled at his wife. He just knew that Juliette would be terrified, and tell everyone.

He felt her sit down next to him. They sat side by side in silence for a while, Nathaniel not having the courage to look at her. Eventually, he had felt her hand slide into his, and after a few more minutes of quiet she whispered in his ear, "I won't tell anyone what happened. I thought you were very brave."

Juliette's simple understanding and acceptance had lifted the weight from his shoulders. Nathaniel finally looked up, and met her eyes. "Thanks," was all he could manage right then, but it was enough. From then on they had been the best of friends, nearly inseparable, much to Thomas's annoyance.

And so, as he had sat in the eves in the home that was no longer his home, Nathaniel had realized that all that he had known as a boy had truly gone. Vengeance or not, wronged as he felt at that moment, he would never be able to harm a hair on Juliette's head.

Nathaniel didn't recall how long he had sat there, but at some point he decided that he would search the keep for some mementos before he left for good. It was in doing this that he was caught; cornered by all those Warden's, and he wound up in a dirty cell being bloodied up for information.

But then the darkspawn had come along and those men had all perished and the next thing he knew Juliette Cousland was again sitting down next to him.

His reaction had been less than gentlemanly, and they had had quite a screaming match. Accusations flew and he had hurt her, ripping open the wound inflicted by his father, but he hadn't understood any of that then.

Once he had been reunited with his sister, she had made clear the atrocities committed by their father. Arl Howe had murdered the Cousland's, and in doing so, began a series of events that ended with his own family's demise.

Reeling from this, he realized the horrible pain he had heaped on her, on them both. Nathaniel had sought her out, apologizing profusely. Juliette had been kind and understanding like always, but he was still ashamed of that night.

One thing he knew was that his friend had deserved much better.

Nathaniel had dedicated himself to looking after her since then. He was quick with his covering shots, but he strove to become quicker. He trained and drilled until his responses were instinctive, allowing him to plan for every contingent, allowing him to protect her.

He found he could still be surprised by her abilities. Juliette was tall and slender, but certainly she didn't look as capable as she was. She was lightening quick with her blades, and could fade into the shadows in a blink of an eye. Her skills were amazing, and her commitment to the Warden's whole. Little Jules had grown up and become a smart, formidable, and beautiful woman.

It was the beautiful part that Nathaniel was having a hard time with. If Nathaniel was honest with himself, he could admit that she was exactly the woman he would desire most, if she weren't Juliette.

The more time they had together the more aware of her he became. Juliette smelled GOOD, and her long hair shined in the sunlight. Her lips were full, and when she smiled, her eyes changed. She was long legged, and her hips swayed in her leathers, and her bum…

"Oh, don't think about her bum," Nathaniel whispered to himself, as he rounded the last hill that led to the villages' main entrance.

More than anything Nathaniel wanted to stop noticing all of those things.

Juliette was an important woman who didn't need to be tied to a Howe; it would only tarnish her reputation to be associated with him. He didn't have a hope in the world that he would ever be worthy of her.

Yet she persisted in seeking him out. Clearly she was trying to rekindle their lost friendship, joking with him, or eating with him, and treating him as her equal. Juliette didn't seem to think of him as the son of the man who had murdered her family. Truly, when he thought of it he was confounded by her behavior towards him.

It was making it very hard for him to stay away from her.

Nathaniel looked up, realizing that someone was calling his name.

"Howe where the hell have you been?" came the burly voice again. "Ancestor's tits boy! Things around here are coming apart, and you're nowhere to be found!

"Hello Oghren, what are you going on about?" and Nathaniel came to a stop in front of the dwarf.

"The Commander's been summoned to Denerim," barked out the red haired man. "Apparently the King is a little mad at her about the whole Architect thing. Anders said she's been in a real pisser of a mood, stomping around the Keep all day."

"What has he got to be mad about- she did nothing wrong!" Nathaniel defended. "Surely he must know that, Anders is probably exaggerating again," but he was concerned about her all the same, and his pace reflected it.

"I don't think so this time. She's preparing to leave the day after tomorrow," Oghren said. "Course, Anders said he thought the rush could be she was hoping to knock boots with him again, he he."

Nathaniel stopped dead in his tracks. "What did you say?"

"Knock boots, do the tumbling tango, bump uglies, you catchin' my drift?" the dwarf smiled. "She's a looker, our commander is, and back in the day she and the king did more than their fair share of, uh, 'wardening', if you get my meaning," Oghren chuckled at his own wit.

Nathaniel felt a pit in of jealousy forming in his stomach.

"But then, he went and got crowned, and he washed his hands of her then and there. He ended it with her right in front of all of us too," Oghren said, frowning at the memory. "Haven't liked the blighter much since then."

Nathaniel could only imagine how horrible that must have been for her. She was always so careful with other peoples' feelings. He didn't think he liked the 'blighter', as Oghren had called him, much either.

"Anyway, she's been waiting for you to return," Oghren explained. "She wants to talk to you, me, and Anders, since we were there when she spoke with the Architect," he finished.

They reached the Keep a few minutes later where Anders was seated in the hall, and Varel saw them. "Please go up to the Commander's office. She's waiting for you three," he ordered.

The three men headed down the corridor and up the short flight of steps to their commander's door. Nathaniel lifted his hand and knocked.