He hadn't realized how much he would miss Ferelden until he'd been away from it for too long.
After becoming a Warden, Aedan had to say goodbye almost immediately to his home country and was shipped off to Orlais to study from the other Wardens, fill them in on the events of the Blight, and do a surprising amount of political maneuvering given that they were a society of warriors and not politicians. He got a chance to use his rusty Orlesian that he'd been taught what seemed like a lifetime ago as a young noble studying to be a diplomat in every way, and the foreign language was almost as natural to him now as his native tongue.
He'd kept up a steady stream of contact with his brother, the letters he received once a month going a long way to keeping his spirits up during the three years of his exile from Ferelden. Finally, after much wheeling and dealing, he had managed to get a reprieve to return home. He'd heard only distantly the events that had happened in Amaranthine during his absence and had worried about the others that had been caught in the siege. Theron had assured him in the letter that everyone was fine, if a little ragged around the edges during the reconstruction, though was otherwise oddly silent about the whole ordeal.
Nathaniel had sent him a letter as well, going a little bit more into detail about the condition of the city of Amaranthine, cataloguing for him the damage done by these talking darkspawn, though was likewise oddly quiet about any explicit details. Whatever had happened, it was being kept very quiet; though even in Orlais he had heard whispers of the unnatural event. There was nothing like a rash of talking darkspawn to get the normally tight-lipped Grey Wardens talking.
Re-learning the language, keeping his nose clean, training to be one of the Grey, and trying to puzzle out the events in Amaranthine kept Aedan occupied. He would never forget Solona, but the pain of losing her was not a raw wound anymore, either. Fergus had been instrumental in helping his quick recovery, and the two brothers shared their losses and helped each other move on.
Now, back in his home country, Aedan was determined to get a leave of absence for at least a little while to visit Highever. With the Blight over, the land went back to being peaceful. There was political unrest in Ferelden, but rumor had it that the lone monarch Alistair was handling it all with a surprising amount of grace and had won the hearts of the people with his down-to-earth ruling style. Distantly, Aedan was proud of him. He'd known that Alistair would have had taking the kingship hard, but to hear of him handling the situation so well gave him real hope for the country's future. Fergus, after all, couldn't do it all alone, though he tried his best with the corner of the world that he had control over.
Amaranthine was much as he'd remembered it. The city still smelled of salt and the sea, though many of the buildings were new. Obviously, they had been repaired after the darkspawn attack that had nearly leveled the city, but otherwise it was the same. Aedan was leaning against a low wall on the waterfront, watching the bobbing of the ships and boats in the harbor with his back to the city, just enjoying the feel of home. It wasn't Highever, but it was close enough that he could almost taste it, and his longing to see something familiar was sated for the moment. He'd sent word of his arrival, and his long time friend Nathaniel Howe was supposed to meet him here at the harbor around noon with Keran in tow. The mabari hound had to be left behind when he went to Orlais as part of a breeding program to help revitalize the severely dwindled mabari population. He'd missed the big war hound something terrible, and was looking forward to seeing his big slobbery face.
Initially upon arriving in Amaranthine for the first time since the razing of Highever and his becoming a Warden, Nathaniel and Aedan had hated each other. Nathaniel had no idea about the evil that his father had committed, and so soon after the loss of his family and Solona, Aedan had not felt particularly forgiving or understanding. He'd killed Nathaniel's father, and that's all the other noble knew, and that was enough for him to continue hating his childhood friend.
In Aedan's absence to Orlais, Theron had helped Nathaniel understand what had happened between the Couslands and the Howes. The first letter came a year and a month after their initial meeting, Nathaniel's apology coming as a surprisingly diplomatic and distant document. With enough time away from the bitterness that he'd left in Ferelden, Aedan had replied with what practically amounted to a novel chronicling the events leading up to Rendon Howe's death, and spared none of the gruesome details or his regrets and fears that sprang up after the usurper Teyrn's grim demise. Aedan had felt that whatever had happened between them, Nathaniel deserved to know. The next reply was long in coming, but it contained a tentative thanks for being honest about the whole affair and a brief recount of his time in the Free Marches and an account of what had happened in Amaranthine, fleshing out some of the fuzzy details that Theron had conveniently forgot to mention in the letter he had received earlier.
The letters from his brother and Nathaniel had been a boon, and now that he was back in Ferelden, Aedan appreciated them even more. He couldn't wait to see a friendly face, to talk with someone that had likewise been outside of the country for an extended period, and above all, not have to speak Orlesian. It was still an hour or so until the predetermined meet time, so with time to kill Aedan left the harbor and went to explore the city some more. Just listening to the haze of chatter in his native language was a simple enough pleasure to lift his spirits higher, and he browsed the market just to be in contact with simple people. The parade of colors on the people in Montsimmard and Val Royeaux were both entertaining and overwhelming, but nothing could compare to the quiet dignity of the Ferelden people.
He was browsing through a stand of elegantly carved wooden idols depicting everything from the Chantry Sun to Andraste and even the King and listening to the shopkeeper babble on about the grain of wood when a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. Aedan stilled, looking up to see if he could catch the movement again, then scanned the marketplace when he didn't see whatever had caught his attention. Among the bustle of the crowd, he saw nothing of particular note and at first was about to brush off the notion that he had seen something when he spotted a single figure standing in the middle of the square.
Among the tide of movement stood a single person, completely stilled, hooded face pointed directly at him. The two stared at each other for a long moment, then the hooded figure suddenly turned to leave at a brisk walk. Hurriedly, Aedan excused himself from the carver's long explanation on how walnut trees were his favorite and rushed after the hooded person fleeing him. At first he simply followed at a brisk pace, but quickly had to start running to keep up. The hunt was on, and whomever it was that he was chasing was leading him away from the bustling parts of Amaranthine to the quieter neighborhoods bordering on the outskirts of the trade city.
The brief chase came to a sudden stop when he found himself at the mouth of a dead end alleyway between two houses with thatched roofs. Standing at the end of the alley was the hooded person and a Templar. Immediately his guard was up, his hand snapping to the hilt of his sword. In the three years that he'd been in Orlais, his opinion of Templars had changed very little. Rumors of his involvement with a mage had traveled far ahead of him, and while his being part of the Grey Wardens protected him from Chantry investigation, that did not mean that the Templars who knew didn't take every opportunity to try and prod at him.
Unbeknownst to the Chantry and the rest of the Wardens, he had kept the Templar journal, and had become adept at everything the book had to teach. Becoming a Warden had done something to him, and suddenly it had become easier to perform the more difficult abilities that defined Templars, even without the use of lyrium. He had asked about it with a few of the other Orlesian Wardens that he had come to trust, and they had confirmed his suspicions. The Taint, for whatever reason, gave the Wardens something besides a shorter lifespan and the ability to sense darkspawn. It gave them abilities, such as the kind that Templars had. And there was no better way to fight a Templar than being one, he'd come to discover.
The Templar at the end of the alleyway didn't seem to want to fight, however. He didn't even touch the sword at his side, but instead reached up and pulled the helmet from his head, revealing a familiar pair of brown eyes and a cheerful grin that had disarmed many a fight. "Long time no see, Cousland."
"Derik!" Aedan exclaimed, bewildered and dropped his hand from his sword, straightening in surprise. "Long time indeed." He flicked his gaze to the hooded person standing at Derik's side, who had gone to retrieve a quiver and a bow that was leaning against the wall, slipping the weapon over their shoulder and remaining silent. "What brings you to Amaranthine?"
"Templar business." Derik replied with a sly smile that had Aedan raising his brow in curiosity. "Though this time, you might actually like it. Maura?"
The hooded archer, which Aedan now recognized as being female looked up at the Templar briefly and the two shared a quiet look before she raised her hands to her hood and pulled it off her head. "Hello, Aedan."
She was different than he remembered, her brown and blonde hair cut short with darkened skin that had seen whole summers in the sun, but her eyes were the same paralyzing blue from Redcliffe. Gone were the mage robes and peasant garb he had been accustomed to seeing her in, replaced instead with light leather armor of average quality. With her hood and cloak pushed back, he could see the way she stood and recognized the look of a warrior. Physically, she had changed much, but in those blue eyes he saw the Solona he knew. Aedan stared openly, unable to believe what he was seeing. "It… you can't be…"
She offered him a small little smile, and dipped her head as a show of respect. "I am Maura Finley, of Southron hills." She said as way of explanation, walking forward until they were within arm's length, her eyes watering with unshed tears. "And I've missed you terribly."
Suddenly they had their arms around each other, hers around his neck and his around her waist. Her leather armor creaked against his chain and plate Warden uniform but neither paid particular attention. It was enough that they could hold each other again. After a long moment holding each other, Derik finally had enough and cleared his throat loudly, prompting Aedan to let Maura go, though kept his hands on her waist.
"But how?" He asked, still bewildered, his head spinning. He wasn't sure if he should be angry or glad that the three years he had spent mourning her were in vain or not. "I killed you. That abomination…" The scene that he had buried in his mind flashed to the fore in a rush of remembered fire and blood. The fact that he thought the abomination had been Solona made putting the sword through the monster's heart sting all the more. He had killed her. Or so he thought.
"It was his idea." Maura said with a guilty grimace, glancing over her shoulder briefly at Derik who was leaning against a nearby wall, his hands fold casually in front of him while he watched the reunion.
Derik righted himself now that he was part of the conversation, walking to stand beside the two. "It had to be done if she was going to be free." He said quietly, keeping a sharp eye on Aedan. "The other Templars knew about her, and knew she was with you. I was part of a party of several others who had come to enact the Rite of Tranquility on her, and put you and your brother in chains until a thorough investigation had been completed. The darkspawn put our mission on hold, luckily for you. After you left, I took her elsewhere and replaced her with a mage that was on the verge of turning into an abomination. Once transformed, all mages look alike. The others felt the flux of power when the mage turned and we all came to investigate, only to find that you had already slain it. You didn't know it, but at the time the other Templars were making sure that nothing shifty had happened. They were prodding you for information. I couldn't tell you of the switch, or else they would have figured it out, and all of it would have been for nothing."
Aedan didn't remember much of the interrogation. After Kallian had come in, the Templars had shown up and the elf was ushered out as the Chantry's dogs examined the abomination's corpse thoroughly. Some of them had asked him questions that he had been too preoccupied with grief to remember exactly how he had answered. He only knew that afterwards they left him alone and took the abomination with them, claiming that even as a corpse it could be dangerous.
Looking between the two conspirators in Solona's apparent death, Aedan felt a brief pang of anger. "Why now?" He asked, looking first at Derik, then at Maura. "It's been three years."
The Templar came to the rescue then. "It was my fault that she couldn't see you before now. I had convinced the Templars with me that she was dead, but it took more than that to convince the rest of the Order. It took a while before her name was dropped from the list, and by that time, you were in Orlais. There's no more dangerous place in the world for a mage than Orlais, the seat of the Chantry. Getting word to you was risky, Warden or not. Instead I had her join The Collective, and she's been making friends with them while we waited for you to get back to Ferelden."
"I wanted to tell you." Maura said immediately after Derik was done talking, her small hands on his forearms, her eyes pleading. "As soon as I woke up in Denerim and Derik told me what had happened, I wanted to go to you and tell you that I was fine. But if I had… I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve to go through what you did."
Aedan looked at her face, taking her in quietly, then pulled her forward in another hug and she buried her face against the crook of his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his waist. "I'm just glad that you're alive."
She trembled in his arms, squeezing his waist briefly before finally pulling back enough that she could look at his face again. "There's… something else that I need to tell you." Aedan only quietly stared, waiting for her to go on without prompting and Maura had to take a deep breath before continuing. "It's… probably best of I just showed you."
Stepping out of his embrace, the mage-turned-archer looked at her Templar guardian and led the way out of the small alleyway with the two men in tow. She talked quietly with Aedan about everything that she'd done and seen while they were separated, telling him about the Mages' Collective and it's underground network of free mages that had either escaped the tower or were born outside of the Chantry's laws and how they were a group trying to live a normal life. Some Templars were involved, like Derik. They took care of the maleficar that roamed the lands before the Chantry could begin to get involved. In some ways, they were some of the Chantry's largest supporters, recognizing that mages, even with the best intentions, were dangerous. At the same time however, they fought the restrictions of the Chantry, trying to give the members of the Collective more freedom than what was normally allotted.
Her skills at reading people had become a vital asset to the cause, and she was often turned to whenever the issue of a mage's intentions came up. She had disguised herself as a small game hunter, even learning how to use the bow and skin her kills. Her magic was still very much a part of her, and it always would be, but without having to worry about the Templars tracking her down every step of the way, she had found herself gravitating toward healing more than hurting, and her use of blood magic had fallen entirely by the wayside.
The trio arrived at a small modest house on the outskirts of town. Maura knocked on the door and entered when beckoned, sparing a quick glance at Aedan over her shoulder before she disappeared inside, Derik following shortly after and leaving the Warden to enter last. Inside was as humble as the outside, obviously a woman's place of residence if the curtains had anything to say about it. The woman who most likely owned the house greeted them, and to his surprise found that it was an elf. She greeted Maura and Derik warmly, then turned to Aedan with a broad smile. "And who have we here?"
"Aedan, of the Grey, ma'am." He replied promptly, bowing his head a little.
The small elf woman seemed delighted with his manners and her smile widened even more. "Oh, but he is everything you said, miss." She said to Maura. "And little Glynn is the spitting image of him."
"Glynn?" Aedan asked, looking for answers from either of the two that had brought him here.
Derik revealed nothing but an absent smile, though Maura turned her face aside, a dark blush staining her cheeks. "Talia, is Glynn in his room?" She asked the elf instead, refusing to meet Aedan's gaze. The elf woman nodded yes and tittered a little bit about how whoever this Glynn was had to be sent by the Maker himself to be the embodiment of such a good spirit. Her blush deepening slightly, she finally looked up at him. "Please, follow me." She walked further into the house, Aedan following behind without question, his curiosity peaked. She opened a door that led to a small room at the back of the house and stepped aside to allow Aedan over the threshold.
Looking at her with a question in his gaze, Aedan walked in and saw a simply adorned room with a single bed. It what was on the bed, however, that pulled him up short. A child was tucked under the covers and deeply asleep with his fist curled up against his mouth. The boy couldn't have been older than a couple of years and had a mop of dark blonde hair on his head. Aedan looked over his shoulder at Derik, noting with a sinking feeling that the Templar's and the child's hair color were almost identical.
It felt like being stabbed in the gut. Staring at the child, the urge to simply walk away almost took him completely. With sudden vehemence he wished that he'd never come. She could have just told him. He didn't need to see the Templar's child for him to believe that the two had rekindled their old relationship and were back together. She didn't even have to let him know she was alive, for that matter.
Maura touched the back of his arm gently and it took all of his self-restraint not to flinch away from her hand. "His name is Glynn." She said in a soft voice barely above a whisper so as not to wake the boy. "Glynn Cousland."
Bewilderment pushed aside the knife that had briefly entered his heart, and he turned his astonished gaze to the Templar standing just behind them.
A smile with the distant echoes of sadness graced Derik's face briefly at Aedan's shocked expression. "She's your little wildfire." He said after a moment, then lifted his chin and indicated the sleeping boy. "And so is the tyke."
Aedan stood dumbstruck in the doorway, then finally jerked into motion, walking forward into the room. He stopped at the edge of the bed and with a creak of leather and the jingle of metal knelt down next to the bed, pulling off his right glove and tucked it in his belt. Gently he reached out toward the sleeping boy, brushing his hair back from his face. The child squirmed a little and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but otherwise did not wake up.
Years ago back in Highever, his father had commissioned a portrait of his two children when they were fairly young. In the old painting, the Teyrna of Highever had been sitting regally with her two young boys. Fergus had been around seven at the time, and looking particularly dour for the event while Aedan was perched precariously on his mother's lap, being maybe five. It had hung in the hallway leading to his parent's room, and as he'd grown up, he'd memorized the portrait. Now, looking at Glynn, he saw the same face that had looked out from his mother's lap, but with blonde hair instead of a brown that was nearly black.
Finally woken by the attention he was receiving, the toddler looked up at the strange man touching his head, wide grey eyes staring at Aedan curiously. Maura was there quickly at his side, brushing against Aedan as she knelt down and took the young boy's hands before he could throw a fit at being woken from his nap.
"He looks just like you." She said quietly, glancing over to Aedan to see him transfixed by the boy, unable to take his eyes off of him.
"He does." Aedan agreed in a quiet voice. "But how?"
"The Circle teaches mages how to prevent conceiving children." Derik said from the doorway, leaning against the frame casually. "It's a working system, but it's not infallible, especially if the mage in question sleeps with an untrained Templar who may nullify the magic on accident." Aedan looked at Derik, the Templar's quiet explanation ending with a shrug of his shoulders. "Despite our best efforts, things like this have happened in the Circle more often than we'd have liked."
"I knew almost right away." Maura said in a hushed voice, soothing her son back to sleep easily enough. Looking at Aedan, she touched the palm of her left hand with her fingers, and he understood immediately even if he couldn't see the scars underneath her leather gloves. "Getting out of Denerim was difficult, and when I used my magic to scan for any Templars in the area… I felt him." She touched her stomach, a soft look crossing her face briefly, though it was gone when she turned her eyes on Aedan again. "I never wanted to keep him from you. It was never my intention for any of this…"
Gently, he reached out and took her by the shoulders, pulling her against his side in a one-armed embrace. "I know." Aedan said softly, finally taking his eyes off his son and looked at Maura, who seemed on the verge of tears again. "I know. I'm only sorry that I wasn't there for any of it."
Her returning smile was watery, but genuine. "But you can see him now. He's as much yours as he is mine. Maybe more. He's just so much like you. I-" Maura's voice cut off and she choked on her next words, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. Before they could wake Glynn up again, Aedan pulled Maura to her feet and escorted her out of the room, closing the door gently behind him with a click.
Outside of the room, she seemed to gather herself together a little more and after an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder from Derik had stopped crying all together. "Sorry. But please, do come back and see him. I'd like Glynn to get to know his father."
"I will." Aedan replied with quiet conviction, then turned to Derik and held out his hand. "Thank you for watching over them for me."
The Templar raised an eyebrow to that, but clasped hands with the Warden and gave a firm shake. "Eh, it was fun while it lasted. I'm not much good with kids though, so you'll have to handle that bit."
"I will." He said again with a gentle smile this time. Suddenly he remembered that he had somewhere to be and straightened. "Is it alright if I come back later today? I promised to meet up with Nathaniel-"
"Of course!" Maura supplied quickly, looking around for the elf woman that owned the house. "I'll tell Talia that you're welcome any time you want to come by. We might not always be here, but even if we aren't, see Glynn anyway."
"I'll do that." The three left the house, thanking Talia for watching over Glynn before they exited completely, Aedan still in a mild state of shock, but was handling it well. "Solo- Maura, what do I say? What do we tell people about Glynn?" He asked, catching himself before he could finish the name, seeing the look that both Derik and Maura flashed him.
She shrugged casually. "Whatever you say, I will abide by. Just remember: Solona Amell is dead. She died an abomination at Denerim."
He nodded in response, and then enveloped her in a hug that lingered for a long while, absorbing the feel of her after so long separated. "I'll come back tonight if I can. We have a lot to talk about."
"We do." Maura agreed with a smile and let him go, watching as he disappeared back toward the city with a wave.
Nathaniel was waiting for Aedan at the harbor, who arrived slightly out of breath from jogging nearly the whole way. Looking him over with a calculating eye, Nathaniel Howe crossed his arms over his chest and leaned slightly to the side. "I didn't think you'd forget the city so soon, Aedan. What took you?"
When Aedan straightened, his breath caught, it was with a grin on his face that was nigh uncontrollable. "I met an old friend and lost track of time. Sorry for making you wait."
Nathaniel eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to shrug his mental shoulders and let the strangeness of his companion's behavior slide. For now. "So, is Amaranthine like what you remember? She's been through some hard times, but…"
"It's better." Aedan replied cheerfully, making Nathaniel even more suspicious. "But come on, show me around. It's been a while, and I only ever got to see the Keep once or twice."
Still wondering what exactly it was that had gotten into his friend, Nathaniel hesitantly complied, leading Aedan back in toward the city and away from the sea. He knew that Aedan was eager to come home, but hadn't expected him to be this eager. Orlais must have been worse than he let on in his letters.
Oblivious to his friend's growing concerns, Aedan walked the streets of Amaranthine at his side, feeling like a new man. The three years lost could never be taken back, but she was alive, and he had a son. A weight he'd grown so accustomed to carrying that he'd hardly even noticed its presence had lifted with that news, and as strange as his behavior might seem to others, Aedan couldn't care less. For once, he was happy.
When Warden Cousland returned to Montsimmard with not only a wife, but a child, most of his companions in Orlais were shocked. Not only because of the strange turn of events, but because he seemed content with his role in life instead of neutrally ambivalent towards the Grey Warden order as a whole. He continued his job as a recruiter, though it was always quietly understood that his loyalty lay with the Warden-Commander of Ferelden rather than his superiors in Orlais. When the Hero went missing some years later, Aedan was assigned to a different post in the Free Marches, and likewise went missing during a top-secret investigation. Maura Finley went with him on the assignment, and their son was left to the caring hands of Fergus Cousland, who had yet to remarry and was strongly considering his nephew for an heir to the Teyrnir. What became of the two is unknown, though there are rumors that the Grey Wardens all across Thedas are undertaking similar missions in the Deep Roads.
Finally! A happy ending! After all the nonsense I put these guys through, I had to leave it somewhere better than "lol, she died". Sorry for putting ya'll through that, but it needed to be done. Holding off that extra chapter for the "surprise, not dead haha" reveal seemed to have worked better than I'd hoped! Good on you guys who figured that Derik should have had something to do with her escape. Poor Aedan was just left in the dark about the whole operation. And so were you! Hehehe
I thought it appropriate that I end the epilogue with a blurb like the things you get after completing DA:O and Awakening. Your Warden in the game gets extra DLCs after the main quest, so this and the next epilogue are also the "DLC" versions of what happens after Origins. The next chapter will be the last.
So, throughout this story, I've been "playing" it like the other origins died and/or never existed. Like with Kallian's father being taken by the Tevinters. Only the Landsmeet was really impacted by the presence of the extra origins. So, in this instance, Aedan more or less took the place of Loghain as if he were spared in the grand scheme of things, and was shipped off to Orlais before the issues of Awakening happened, returning only after not only the events of Awakening, but also Witch Hunt and The Golems of Amgarrak. He appeared very briefly at the beginning of the Awakening sequence, just long enough to visit with Nathaniel and keep Theron from cutting his throat. I attribute his knowing Orlesian to the fact that during the height of the French Empire, every noble of other countries learned French. I figure that since Orlais is currently the most powerful human empire, nobility of other nations would probably learn at least some Orlesian. Even Fereldans (who are like the English, and still learn French in primary school anyway).
Also, after the final epilogue, I think that I'll publish a separate "story" of the alternate endings that I had planned out for the characters, since you guys seem interested in them. But note, what happened in this story is "canon" for the HoH universe.