A/N: I'm mostly using the events of the game as timeline markers. I'm sure everyone would have been just completely thrilled to read another "and then this happened, which everyone knows BECAUSE WE'VE ALL PLAYED IT" fic, but, well, I just couldn't make myself write it. I'm rubbish at action. I prefer talking and body language and prolonged weighted silences. Perhaps a bit of snark here and there. Forgive me for not going over it...again?
Also, yes, I did put the armory in the same room as their mess hall. They're still organizing themselves. I thought it wouldn't be too bad, what with armor and weapon stands to organize the bits. But it's been brought to my attention (and rightly so) that perhaps the pointy things should not be where the boozing happens. I promise that before Anders stabs himself in the foot while trying to balance a plate of vegetables and a handful of cheese that the pointy stabby things will be removed. Plus, no one wants drunk!Oghren to be within arm's reach of a bow and arrow. That's just asking for some poor servant to get skewered in the bum.
Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.
"I'm heading into Amaranthine, who wants?" She walked into the room they'd appropriated as armory and mess hall, interrupting everyone's breakfast. She had been intent on gathering herself and moving past the events of a couple nights previous - the night when he had asked her to pretend they did not have a history between them, when he had asked her to treat him as she would any other soldier. If only he knew that she never treated anyone like that - she had no idea how to. Indifference did not come naturally to her, she had to work at it, and now was as good a time as any.
"Ooh, pick me!" Anders cheerfully volunteered.
"This freedom thing is really getting to you, isn't it?" she asked wryly, and he just smiled at her. She was grateful for his good moods - they lifted her out of her melancholy confusion.
Oghren volunteered with a grunt, and she said 'good' and went to the sideboard to collect her breakfast. The cook had quickly caught on to the Warden appetites and even though trading was thin and the local farmers had meager fare, the Vigil could at least keep them supplied in vegetables, potatoes, and eggs from their own gardens and small farmholds within the keep's walls. Winter was not far off, and soon they would be slaughtering pigs (and possibly sheep if they could be found), and she was looking forward to fresher meat in her diet for a short while.
"Commander, I have sent a couple of the keep's soldiers out on a hunt," Varel piped in as she picked at the salted...unrecognizable meat.
There was an amused snort from the other end of the table as she opened her mouth to reply. She shot Nathaniel a sharp look before turning back to the seneschal. "We should see if there is someone in the keep or the city, perhaps, who knows the woodlands well. A gamekeeper in the keep would not go amiss. I intend on bolstering the ranks of the Wardens soon enough, and would one of the first steps to making the keep self-sustainable. Unless, of course," she narrowed her eyes and looked down the table again, "Nathaniel has something to contribute?"
He looked at her, slightly surprised. "Most of the soldiers here are not from Amaranthine. They may luck out for a few days, but they do not know the habits of the wildlife here. A gamekeeper would be most useful indeed. Commander," he added as an afterthought and they shared a stare, wresting for power before he looked away.
"There you have it," she smiled at Varel. "And maybe next time you send soldiers out, Nathaniel will be so kind as to accompany them," she added with forced cheer, not looking at him.
"Yes, Commander," he replied, and her little fit began to leave a bitter taste in her mouth.
After they broke their fast, she waited for Anders and Oghren to meet her at the gate, only to approach it and find Nathaniel waiting.
"I wasn't aware you'd volunteered for this trip," she pointed out blandly.
"I would like to accompany you, yes."
She opened her mouth, but could not find a reply, so she just nodded at him instead.
"I have this...impression that I am under house arrest, as it were."
"With so few Wardens, I do want to keep track of everyone. I prefer to always leave someone behind, but...it won't always be possible with such a small group," she said to the open air, still not meeting his eye, instead fiddling with one of her vambraces.
"Elissa," he said quietly, and she clenched her teeth, closing her eyes. They were rarely alone, and she was as conflicted as she had ever been. The genuine feelings for him lingered, and warred with all of the flotsam about who he was, and who his father was, and now their families were at war, his family disgraced, and his father had killed Oren and it wasn't exactly a topic they could just bring up over a meal - especially if either of them cared to keep aforementioned meal where it belonged.
Not to mention the part where he'd asked her to pretend she didn't know him. As much as she tried to tell herself it didn't matter, it clearly still rankled. And his address of her by her given name didn't help her frustration with the situation.
"What?" It came out a bit sharper than she intended, and with a deep breath, she turned to look at him.
"I have gotten word that Delilah still lives. In...Amaranthine."
She could not help her look of surprise. While she was not close with Delilah by any means, as she was older even than Nathaniel, they had exchanged a few letters during the time that Nathaniel had been in the Marches. Delilah had never made secret of her dislike of her father and his machinations for her in terms of marriage, and found a kindred spirit in the younger Elissa, who had also feared a forced match. And Delilah often mentioned how good she thought Elissa would be for her brother - she was the only Howe aside from Nathaniel himself that seemed genuinely pleased by the betrothal.
"I...am glad for that Nathaniel." A small smile on her lips actually reached her eyes.
"I was wondering…Samuel told me of the merchant she has...attached herself to," the words 'merchant' and 'attached' came out like they were curses on the prophet, "and I thought we, I, might...seek her out?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," he nodded curtly, and stepped away from her - the space between them becoming too personal.
When Anders and Oghren finally showed, bickering as they were wont to do, she was glad to get on the road.
# # # # # #
When they entered the merchant district of the city, she browsed without really paying attention, and Nathaniel's sharp eyes settled here and there, jumping from person to person before he stopped in the middle of the street.
"There."
"Well, go talk to her," she urged, nodding her head in the direction he was staring.
"I..."
She smiled, and for a brief moment, the weight between them was lifted. "Come now, Nathaniel, do you need to be escorted? It's your own sister!"
He looked at her, and then back at whomever he had spotted. "I...you're right." Clearing his throat, he said aloud "come, or don't. It's up to you."
"I don't want to...invade on this," she said, glancing away and touching a silk brocade hanging off a table to her right.
He narrowed his eyes, watched her stroking the fabric. "Stop being so damn difficult," he finally ground out. "Either come or don't."
She turned her head sharply, at first surprised and then, sharing his gaze, nodded. "I will, then."
"So be it," he replied, and began walking away from her.
Right, because those aren't mixed signals, she thought uncharitably, but followed after him just the same.
Delilah saw him first, and hugged him tightly. Elissa smiled at the beatific look on Delilah's face at discovering her entire family was not gone. They chatted animatedly for several minutes before Delilah noticed her, hanging back.
"Elissa!" She was enveloped in the same bone-crushing hug that Nathaniel had been subjected to, and when she opened her eyes, she looked over Delilah's shoulder to see Nathaniel's face warring with happiness and grief. Elissa drew away from the other woman.
"How wonderful that he has found you! It's almost a fairytale!" She put her hands on Elissa's face, and smiled at her for a moment before clucking her tongue to snap herself out of the moment. "You both must come inside!"
"I think you and Nathaniel need...time alone. It was lovely to see you, but I shall..." she trailed off and looked around for an excuse.
"Nonsense, come with me, sister," she said cheerfully, hooking their elbows together, and Elissa felt a stinging at the corner of her eyes. She was indeed a sister again, when once she had been alone - now she had Fergus back. But to be called as much as by this woman, who clearly did not know that she had killed her father...it was too much. She pulled her arm out of Delilah's.
"No, thank you. There are...things I am sure you must discuss with your brother."
Delilah seemed confused, and Elissa bowed briefly, making her exit. The Howes watched her stride quickly back through the market, winding in and out of the crowds. As she disappeared from sight, Delilah turned to her brother.
"What did you do?"
Nathaniel snorted. "What did I do? Hardly. Have you not heard the news, sister? The Couslands betrayed the Crown, Father killed them, and then she killed Father. Lovely, heart-warming story, really," he stated dryly, still looking out over the meager crowd, only to be punched in the shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"
"The Couslands did not betray the Crown, you fool! I think it is you who are behind in news. Come inside and I shall set the story straight for you. I don't want to argue with you on the street like some common wench," she tugged his tunic once and opened a door and ducked in, beckoning him after her.
"Yes, I've heard," he began taking in the dark interior, lit by a few tapers and the waxy window coverings that let in a yellowish light. It was only two rooms - a larger open one with a small table and a sideboard for food preparation, and a smaller room visible around the edge of one wall that clearly was the bedroom. He blushed slightly, but it cleared away quickly enough. "Father was the traitor, but once the tide turns, of course things are retracted. Stories change."
"You are too bull-headed for your own good," she said, and told him to sit. He did as directed, and she brought him a cup of tea, which he wrapped his fingers around gratefully.
"So you've always said."
"It was Father all along. His greed for power led to those lies about the Couslands and the Orlesians. There was never any connection there. Father killed Fergus's wife and young son, and burned the castle. I have...heard things, Nathaniel. Things...I would not repeat about how Father ordered the servants and guests of the Couslands to be treated. They are..." she sat across from him and took a sip of her own tea thoughtfully. "Unsavory."
"And you believe them?" he asked sharply.
"Nathaniel," she began. "You have always idolized Father. He was a different man as you got older - a different man than who you remember from your childhood. And that man was...not good."
"How can you say that?"
"Please don't pretend with me," she asked, her face pleading, a little sad. "I know how he treated you..."
"He was trying to make me stronger. If I was to take over the arling, I would need a thicker skin."
"No. You would have made a fine arl. You are a decent and fair man, Nathaniel, and you were a decent and fair boy. Father merely wanted to give you a mean streak that you did not already possess. He wished to remake you in the contorted image that he had remade himself. I admit that I do not know why he...changed. But it was there, for all to see. It got...worse after you left." She set down her cup and looked into the tea, her lips in a tight line.
"Say what you want to say, Delilah," he said in a low tone.
"Among other things, he was...cruel to Elissa. In her hearing and outside of it, he declared you an unfit match. Thought she was too frivolous, like her mother. Like her father. Too...you know," she looked up at him, and cocked her head. "He actually said she was too happy? He hoped you would abandon your suit and allow him to make a better match."
Nathaniel snorted, and sought answers in his own tea. He knew his father had not been thrilled at first, but he had consented. Somehow the idea that he was genuine in his later threats to pass the arling to Thomas if Nathaniel did not rethink his betrothal had not seemed like anything more than threats. His father clearly wanted more than a little bit of land adjoined to his existing arling out of his son's marriage, and pieces began to fall into place as he finally permitted them to do so.
"Happy is not quite how I'd describe her these days."
Delilah sighed. "And you? Are you happy?"
"No."
"Well why should she be? Her family was killed, Nathaniel, and ours disgraced. While I may be alone in feeling freed of the Howe name, I have never had the attachment to it you have always possessed. She has been through quite a lot. If even half the stories are true, it is a wonder she is alive. These years have been no kinder to her than to you." She paused and reached across the table to take her brother's hand in her own. "And she no longer has you to lean on, that much is clear. She missed you a great deal when you were gone, though one had to read between the lines of her letters to know so. I know so much as happened, but...that doesn't go away."
"And you?" he said, squeezing her fingers and declining to comment on her defense of Elissa. "Are you happy?"
"I am," she smiled. "Albert is a good man. I love him, and I...I do not miss that other life often." Her mouth quirked up. "We are expecting a child in the spring."
Nathaniel's face softened, and she let out a little laugh. "Truly?"
"Yes. Our family is not stopped by this, Nathaniel. You will have a niece or nephew within the year. And should you and Elissa...repair your relationship, perhaps it need not stop with nieces and nephews."
"I fear that there is little hope there. I admit that what I felt before is not gone, but...neither is it what it once was. Too much has happened."
"Of course. I'm not suggesting you marry her tomorrow. But just as you say what was once there is not gone, I believe the same of her."
"I wish I had your optimism, did I even really still desire such an attachment. I am...a Grey Warden now."
"Oh?"
"And she my commanding officer."
"Oh Nathaniel," she squeezed his hand again.
"It was that, or hang me."
"What?"
"I was attempting to retrieve some of our things from the keep. They held me, waiting for her to arrive and mete out justice. I may have threatened her life," he added, and hurried on under his sister's disapproving gaze. "I think it surprised everyone that she did not just order me hung from the gate."
She could do nothing but give him a sad smile. "Then if nothing else, perhaps you can be her friend again. I suspect she is in dire need of those these days."
"Perhaps you are right. I...will need to think on the things you've said," he informed her, and let go of her hand to stand. She stood as well and went to him, wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her tightly before becoming suddenly mindful of her condition, and sprang away.
"Don't worry," she chastised quietly, and pulled him back in. They were of a height, fitting together perfectly, and neither sibling could be sure who held on longer before they parted. "You will come back and see us, won't you? I know Albert would love to meet you. And," she touched her stomach. "So would your nephew."
"Or niece. And wild dogs could not keep me away," he informed her, giving her the second genuine smile she had seen in many years. He kissed her brow and parted her company, promises solicited for further visits from both sides.
He wandered the town, and found Elissa in the Crown & Lion, sans Anders and Oghren. Soon enough, however, Oghren was spotted sleeping facedown on a table, though Anders was nowhere to be seen.
"Ready to leave?"
"Soon as Anders gets back. He had someone to meet - for someone who has spent the last decade or so in and out of solitary confinement in the Circle Tower, he seems to have contacts everywhere."
"Good."
"And your sister?"
"She is well," he said, taking the seat next to her at the bar and waving off the bartender. "I think she was hoping you would stay."
"Did you tell her?" she asked carefully.
"Tell her what?"
"That I am...responsible?"
"She knew."
"She did?"
"Indeed. And she...told me a few things. Things I...must think on."
Elissa nodded. "Of course. Of course," she began tracing the wood grain with her finger.
"And there are...questions I have for you."
"Ask away," she gave him a little smile.
"Grey Wardens..."
"Oh. Right. I gave this talk to Anders and Oghren and I was remiss to not speak to you about it. Especially after..."
"I think I was...too angry. I may not have listened even if you had tried."
"Well. It's...not something to talk about in a pub. We should talk when we get back to the Keep."
"Right. Secrets. You know my grandfather was a Warden?"
"He was?"
"Or at least he left to become so. No one heard from him after that. Then again, he was also believed to be an Orlesian sympathizer, so the Warden part might not actually be true. Might have been just a way for my family to keep their honor and explain it away."
She nodded. "In your grandfather's time, Wardens were not permitted within the borders of Ferelden. The nearest chapter would have been in Orlais. So it might have been a bit of both. Perhaps he was not a sympathizer, but merely dedicated to the Warden cause, and sought them out across the border. You never know."
"I had not considered that."
"But not everyone survives the...ritual," she added.
"Ah."
"I can write to Weisshaupt. They keep all the records of every Warden in Thedas. I sent word of you, and Anders and Oghren, but I don't think they even acknowledge such things. Mistress Woolsey was sent by Weisshaupt, but she has never been there. I honestly don't really know how they work out there. I wrote to one of the Orlesian chapters, telling them of the deaths here, but I do not know if they will send more to bolster our ranks or no. I'm...rather blind here." She looked away and then back at him, catching his eye and giving him a small smile. "What I meant to get at was...I can write them and ask about your grandfather. Ask...what happened to him. If, indeed, he was intending to join and did arrive to do so and was given the Joining, his name will be recorded. Perhaps it will…clear some things up."
"You...would do that?"
She grimaced a little. "Yes. Of course. I..." she floundered. "Nathaniel...would you have expected less of me?"
He pressed his lips together. "No. No, I suppose not."
"I...I want..." He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Nathaniel, I want for us to stop being like this."
"Like how?"
"Skirting around each other, like we hardly know one another or like we hate each other. You...well...that is, unless you dohate me, which...is justified." She didn't look up at him when she asked "do you?"
He looked away as she looked up for the answer. "No. I don't hate you, Elissa. I am simply incapable of…I don't know how I am to act around you. We...are not the same people we used to be."
"That much is abundantly clear," she quipped. "But what I mean is...can we just agree to stop all this...awkwardness? You're a Grey Warden, I'm a Grey Warden, and we'll sort out the rest as we go. I just…I hate all this tiptoeing. More than anything, I…miss my friend, Nathaniel. Can we…at least try that?"
She looked so hopeful, and he could not turn her down. "I suppose we can try." He was rewarded with a little smile, and he nodded once at her and, as he made to order a drink to take the edge off that charged conversation, Anders, with his perfect timing, tapped her on the shoulder, informing her that he needed her help.