A/N: I've finally organized this story and there will be three main arcs: the first ten or twelve chapters will make up the Wolf's Home Arc; the next twelve will be Wolf's Journey and the final five will be Wolf's Rain.

Warnings: Nate/M!Cousland and some explicit scenes, hence, the reason why it is rated M.

Explanations:

Andraste's Day - Thedas' version of Christmas

3rd hour to the Moon – 9 pm

Chapter 6 Could This Be Something More?

Delilah was busy brushing her hair when there was a knock on her door. Since it was still relatively early in the evening hours, she did not suspect foul play. To be on the safe side though, she took out a slim Orlesian dagger, the one her older brother purchased for Andraste's Day.

"Come in," she shouted, her hand ready to clutch her weapon at a moment's notice. Her caution was not needed when her brother stumbled in, his face unusually confused instead of having that stony appearance. She placed the dagger back into the drawer of the whitewood vanity and Delilah went to her brother, cupping his cheek as she gazed at him in concern.

"What's the matter, Nathan?"

"It's nothing, really,"

"Well, it can't be nothing because you usually spend most of your time hanging out with the men," she replied, trying not to sound exasperated with her brother, who has problems in dealing with his emotions. She hadn't wanted to say boys, even though they clearly were. Nathan bestowed a cold glare, one that made her pull back her hand.

"Look, if you don't want to talk about it," she finally said in a coarse way, "then don't bother me!"

She was about to turn away when a hand gently grabbed her elbow, prompting her to turn back. When she did, she discovered that Nathan's eyes were slightly wet with moisture. Was her brother crying?

"Nathan? Tell me, what's wrong."

Her brother inhaled deeply and he then explained to her what had happened between him and Hadrian. She held her questions until her brother's tale finished. Nathan talked about how he and Hadrian were very good friends and that he screwed it up by that little kiss.

"I could have sworn to the Maker," he said, sitting at the edge of her bed, "that he was fey." He sat back even further on her bed, messing up her carefully placed duvet cover. She didn't mind, so long as her brother kept telling her about this. It wasn't good to keep things bottled and if there were secrets to be had, they usually lead to dire consequences, much like her grandfather. Nathan sighed and he rubbed the sides of his temple with his hands, broad and calloused from the archery sessions he had taken for the past five years.

His wretched posture elicited a feeling of pity in Delilah and she joined him on her bed, taking her hands in his. Her evening skirt would be sort of wrinkled before suppertime. She'll just change into another one. Eleanor's old clothes fit her marvelously and there were plenty of her clothes to be had in Delilah's room.

"Nathan," she started, "I'm sure that Hadrian was just, well, surprised by your action."

There was a snort but he didn't contradict her.

"Look, just talk to him," she continued and her small hands squeezed her brother's gently. "If he really is that way, then he'll come around. Whatever you do though, don't avoid him. That'll just make things awkward between you,"

"It's already that way," he said.

"Ok, now you're just being you, just like father. He's always assuming things, making conclusions on something when there's not enough evidence to warrant his judgement. Stop that! It's going to get you killed."

Her admonishment shocked Nathan. She certainly was not like her mother, who would usually try to comfort him in that nasal, annoying, motherly way. Delilah was a strong woman but she balanced her independence with a warm heart that won over a plentiful amount of boys her way, boys that respected her for what she is. Delilah is right. I…I have to right this…

"Thank you, sister," his voice sounded stronger and when he stood up, she noticed that his back was more erect than it was when he first came in. "I think I have a meeting with a certain person; see you later."

"Bye, brother," she kissed him on the cheek and then, after watching him leave her room, regarded the bed with some distaste before tidying it back into its original place.

-o0o-

Unfortunately for Nathaniel Howe, Hadrian was nowhere to be found before suppertime. It was as if the younger Cousland was avoiding him. How ironic that his sister advised him on not avoiding Hadrian, when clearly it was now the other way around. He asked enough guards that could fill an entire room of his whereabouts but none could give him a satisfied answer. He had contemplated in asking Fergus, but when he heard noises in Fergus' room, some that sounded much like his sister's laughter, he decided against it. Night was fast approaching and he was getting desperate in finding Cousland. He had never liked leaving things unanswered but what could he do when the person he wanted to talk to has virtually disappeared from the castle.

He was on his way back to his room when he bumped into someone, the other person clearly not watching where he was going. The person stumbled backwards, his balance failing him as he began to fall and Nathan caught at his forearm, saving him from a nasty backfall on stony grounds. It was an elf, Nathan saw, disheveled and looked to be in a hurry. The elf looked back at him fearfully, afraid that the noble he bumped into would strike him down, just like any other noble would do.

Nathan didn't dislike elves but he didn't like them either. The way they moved, how they cowered when in the presence of their supposed betters grated on his nerves. However, that didn't mean he mistreated them. A happy slave is one that's treated well by its master and it was too true at the Howe's own estate in Amaranthine. His father's elves were silent, with the more insolent ones missing tongues as punishment for speaking out against their master. Some female elves were used as 'toys' by his father's guards and no matter how hard Nathan tried to halt that particular habit, it still continued. He could still hear the high-pitched screams from one of the guard rooms and from that point on, he had never wanted to take a lover forcefully. Just like you never wanted to do that to him forcefully. A voice spoke out inside his head.

"I'm s-s-sorry, ser, so sorry, ser," the elf stammered, bowing profusely and so low that Nathan was afraid of the elf breaking his face.

"It's ok," Nathan said in a neutral tone, "just mind your step."

"Yes, yes, ser!"

He watched the elf scurry off into the distance and the Howe wondered what could have caused the elf to run into him like that. An answer was given to him when he heard a muffled moan nearby, followed by some shuffling. His senses alert, his mood shifted into the manner of an assassin. His steps were much lighter now and barely audible over the ambient sounds of his environment. As he edged closer to the sound, he observed that it originated from a closed room and he inwardly cursed at himself for not bringing a dagger with him. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the wooden door and with no one nearby, the Howe picked the lock easily. Apparently, the soft click of the broken lock didn't alert the source for it still continued, even after Howe opened the door and closed it behind him. The room, he found, was rather spacious, too spacious for it to be a closet. It was also too decorative as well. There were little knickknacks on wooden shelves and a couple of portraits hanging on the wall. Also, this room was oddly familiar to him, really familiar especially when he laid eyes on a portrait of the entire Cousland family. Maker's balls, am I in Fergus room or Hadrian's?

With that thought, the Howe was sorely tempted in turning back, but he wanted to know why either Fergus or Hadrian was making that sound. They could be injured and none of the guards are here to report it. Maybe that elf saw something and he was going to report. The elf made no mention of this, however, and Howe became a little bit curious as to why. He had no idea why he was still being stealthy; it felt wrong for him to be sneaking around a good friend's private room or whatever this was. Despite this, he proceeded in his investigation and the Maker Himself seemed to reward him for his efforts as Howe was bestowed with such a view of the person he was looking for.

There, lying on the bed, was Hadrian, naked and seemingly wet. It appeared that the boy had taken a shower prior to this and forgot to dry off too. A towel lay forgotten over a chair, the same one Nathan had sat in earlier that morning. However, Nathan's eyes were riveted on his best friend's hand that stroked his erection. He had seen Hadrian naked plenty of times before but somehow, he never paid any attention to it. Now though, when he expressed his desire to Hadrian, he noticed how muscular the thighs were becoming, the developing chest muscles, and he let out a soft groan when Hadrian's back arched, showing off his taught abs, tight from the routine crunches the boy would do every morning, and the impressive hard-on he was sporting. His movements became more frantic and the name that left Hadrian's lips caused such a jolt of arousal in Nathan that he barely stifled a moan. He quickly covered his mouth, fearful that Hadrian had heard him. When the boy made no move from his position, the Howe relaxed and the Maker had answered his question for him. Hadrian did like him that way. He wasn't mistaken at all.

A bell echoed in the distance, signaling the hour of supper. There was a rude curse emitting from the bed and Nathan decided that he best take his leave, before Hadrian discovers him. If he did, then he would lose all chances of possibly being together with his handsome friend.

-o0o-

Hadrian could have sworn he heard some noise but figured it was the guards walking outside, heading to the Dining Hall. It was suppertime and he needed to get ready. He looked down at his body and noticed that he needed to clean up first. Grabbing the towel that hung off the chair, he wiped the evidence of his session off and then sprayed some cologne, to cover its pungent smell. His dog would pick up the scent and try to hump him at the table. That's not what he wanted to deal with while he is eating and another thing he did not want to deal with is Fergus' cheeky remarks accompanied by his mother's disapproving stares. Speaking of his dog, he would probably have to find the mutt again. He kicked the dog out before his shower as he felt oddly uncomfortable masturbating in front of his canine friend.

Looking into the vanity mirror, he checked to make sure his clothes were tidy and proper for supper. A stubborn patch of hair at the back still stood up and he searched for that oil made especially for stubborn hair like his. He found the container of the oil, a small amber bottle, and dabbed two fingers in it. The oil was spread on the annoying patch and Hadrian smiled as he flattened it. Ready to go and meet with the Howes and his family, he noticed that something was out of place. A book was knocked forward in one of the bookshelves by the door and Hadrian was fairly certain that the book was not like that when he first entered the room. Someone was in his room, but when and why? He quickly turned around, his senses on high alert. He checked out all the opened spaces, but had found no one staking out in his room. Apparently, whoever it was had left the room without him knowing about it. Maybe it was Fergus?

He was still thinking about the possible culprit as he walked into the corridor, even into the main dining table, with the family table located at the front of the room. He finally looked up at someone's voice, which called out to him. There were the Howes, sitting along side with his family. Bryce sat the head of the table, with Eleanor sitting to the left side and Fergus on the right side. There was an empty seat beside Fergus and Hadrian assumed that it was for him. However, sitting opposite of that seat was that one person he did not want to see.

He took his seat, trying to ignore the eyes of its owner.

"It's good to see you," Nathan greeted him in a courteous manner.

"Where were you, Hadrian?" Fergus asked with a mouthful of chicken and it came out as a "fphere fere vyhu ahrhien"

"Fergus! What have I told you about not speaking with food in your mouth! It's unbecoming!" Eleanor rebuked him, frowning at her eldest son's poor manners. Bryce shook his head and chuckled, enjoying the sight of his son and wife glaring at each other. He would never get tired of this and he hoped that it would continue until the day he passes into the Fade. Arl Howe, on the other hand, looked rather undisturbed at seeing the poor manners of the Cousland's eldest.

"Ah cheer up, Rendon," Bryce smiled at his friend, raising a goblet to his lips. "Kids are kids, until they kill their first man,"

It was true for both boys. Neither had killed men, although they had hunted animals plenty of times. Hadrian developed an extreme distaste for it but necessity pushed his dislikes aside. Survival came first. Survival always comes first.

When he started eating, he felt something rub against his foot and he looked up to tell the person to stop doing that. However, whatever he was going to say never left his mouth when a pair of dark eyes gazed at him heatedly. He swallowed and then choked on a piece of venison, the one with the bone in it. He coughed, trying to dislodge it from his throat but to no avail. A pair of hands pounded his back and he grabbed a piece of napkin, in which the meat was spat back into.

"Thanks," Hadrian managed to say between coughs. A glass of water was placed in front of him and he gladly drank it, relishing in the sweetness of it that washed away the burning sensation of having a bone stuck in a throat.

"No problem" came the husky reply and Hadrian was indeed thankful that he had already swallowed whatever was in his mouth.

"Are you ok, Hadrian?" His father asked him, watching him carefully. In fact, everyone was staring at him, even the elven servants. Damn it! Why did it have to be him?

"Yeah," he replied in a neutral tone, not wanting to give any sign that the person who saved him was causing a reaction within him. He was suddenly glad for thick tunics in the cold seasons.

The answer seemed satisfactory enough for those sitting at the table and they continued eating, conversing with the next partner in low tones. Only Delilah was still watching him, a curious expression on her face. Then her lips turned at the corners and Hadrian knew that she was up to something. The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully and Hadrian was grateful that Nathan hadn't touched him or even tried talking to him. He couldn't bear the thought of passing out from choking on dinner in front of everyone. That would just be too embarrassing.

It was getting late in the evening when the dinner finally finished, followed by a long period of conversation between the Howes and the Couslands. Wine was served to all of them, even to the youngest child. Hadrian often found his attentions wandering, his mind still trying to figure out who was in the room with him. The Guards were clearly forbidden from entering the rooms of the Couslands and as far as he knew, no guard dared to intrude into their privacies. The conversation of his parents was a soft murmur in the background and Delilah's talk with Fergus bored him. He wished that Fergus would not dance around the girl and just ask the girl out. The way she leaned into him as he discussed his duties and daily routines was a clear sign that she felt something for him. Now, Nathan, that man was an enigma. Always a stoic child, Hadrian was thoroughly surprised by his advances and then his flustered state and hasty escape. Suddenly, thoughts jumbled in his mind and it grew into a bad headache. Maybe he should just go back to his room and rest.

He was just about to leave the room when a hand stopped him, prompting him to look back, only to see Nathan's face staring at him with those knowing eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room. It's getting late," Hadrian snarled, pulling his arm out of Nathan's grasp. "And I have a headache."

"Let me accompany you,"

Hadrian was in no mood to play games with the Howe and Nathan was the type who wouldn't take a 'no' for an answer. The youngest Cousland sighed in defeat.

"If you insist," Nathan smiled at Hadrian's reply, despite it being said in a gruff tone.

He bowed a farewell to his father and the rest of the nobles in the room before turning on his feet to follow the vanishing figure of Hadrian Cousland.

As soon as they entered the younger Cousland's room, Hadrian found himself bodily pinned against the wooden door, his lips taken up by another pair in a passionate kiss. Eyes flew open in shock and Hadrian's hands came up, to push Nathan away. However, it was unnecessary as Nathan drew back, his heated gaze causing his loins to dampen.

"I know you've been thinking about me," Nathan whispered heatedly in his ear, causing shivers to run down his spine as a gentle hand groped him down there, where not so long ago he was playing with. Hadrian accidentally let out a squeak, to which Nathan found very endearing.

"Nathan! I-"

"Hadrian, before you say anything, I want you to know that," Nathan paused, suddenly unsure whether he should continue this or not. However, whatever this thing he started, he was determined to see it to the end. "It's just...I'm very comfortable with you."

Nathan's words were running into another. He cursed his clumsy tongue and wished he had his sister's silvery tongue instead of his brother's strength. He drew back but found a pair of arms embracing him tightly to a warm body. He startled at the gesture and when he looked into the eyes of his best friend, he expected to see mockery or rejection. Instead, there was genuine understanding in those startling blue eyes and Hadrian nuzzled his face with his own.

"I think I know what you mean," Hadrian said, so softly that the Howe barely heard it over the ambient noise of the Castle. Hadrian knew that Nathan was never good with expressing himself, using his strength or skill with the bow to convey his meanings to other people. His hand trailed from Nathan's silky upper cloth and cupped a cheek in his palm. Nathan leaned into the caress and pressed a light kiss into the hand. He continued to kiss the hand, continuing along the sensitive forearm and then finally landing on Hadrian's full lips.

As Nathan kissed him again, slowly and passionately, Hadrian felt something burst in his heart. Is this love? The one mother mentioned when she told me stories of how she met my father? His heart was fluttering and there were butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that were traveling further south. His friend drew back, saliva still linking the two together until it broke. A hand caressed his face and he turned into it, liking how it moved against his smooth cheek and then down his throat.

"You are still too young for me to take you, but I can show you other things that we can do," Nathan said as he kissed Hadrian again, distracting him enough to guide him to the bed that was awaiting them, and then his mouth moved to nibble on his ears, sending a shiver down the boy's frame. With that said, he gave a gentle push and with Hadrian still dazed from his attentions, he blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. However, all Hadrian cared about was Nathan and his hands.

-0O0-

Nathan was having the most wonderful dream when a knock rudely interrupted his steamy session with Hadrian. A door burst open and then a shocked gasp. The Howe's eyes flew open and he instinctively reached out for his short sword placed by his pillow, fearing an enemy.

"Oh by the Maker!" Someone had shouted and whoever it was had run off before he could take a good look at him or her. The Howe cursed and he stumbled out of bed, hastily putting on his smallclothes as well as a loose t-shirt. His rapid movements caused his lover to stir in the bed beside him. A head peeked out of the covers and eyes blinked slowly at him.

"Nate? Wuzz da matta?" The Howe had to smile at the slurred statement. He had never known that the young Cousland could sound and look so cute first thing in the morning. However, he had to know who it was that opened his bedroom and without warrant. It could have been someone close, like Fergus or even Hadrian's mother. The voice did sound strangely feminine but when he looked down the corridor, all he saw were questioning looks from guards that were patrolling the area. Once they got over the shock of seeing a Howe in their midst, whose room was on the other side of the castle, one of the guards approached him, intent on questioning him.

"Milord? Are you lost? Your room is on the east side of the castle."

Nathan coolly glared at the Knight, slightly offended that the Knight would dare question his motive. However, he thought of two things: one, he wasn't equipped in his usual light armor that he wears around the castle and two, if he opened the door any further, the guard would have seen a very naked Cousland. Sometimes being straightforward with a guard was the best approach. He relaxed his stance, which caused the guard to relax in turn, his hand no longer hovering near his weapon.

"Hadrian and I were out drinking last night. Since we were closer to his place than mine, I decided to crash here."

While it was technically true that the Cousland Castle "bar" was closer to Hadrian's side of the castle, the guard could have been on a 12-hour shift, starting at the 3rd hour to the moon. He would have known that the two boys were not at the bar that night but Nathan was going to risk it.

"Ohh. I see, pardon me, my lord. I'm new here and I don't want anything happening to my lord and his family."

The guard's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and Nathan sighed. Newbies. The guard saluted him with a gauntleted fist before marching away. Nathan waited until the corridor was briefly empty before shutting the door.

"Nathan? Is everything ok?"

Hadrian was still in bed, but his eyes were more alert and Nathan found himself getting aroused again by those piercing blue eyes. He forgot to tell Hadrian that blue was his favourite colour; then again, the Cousland probably already knew that.

"It's nothing, Hadrian," Nathan replied, locking the door behind him to ensure that they won't be interrupted next time. He strode over to the bed and leaned in to kiss his lover.

"Mmpffhh!" Hadrian moaned into the kiss and his hands clutched at the Howe's broad shoulders.

"There's nothing else to do on a free day like this," Nathan whispered in a husky tone and Hadrian's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling the Howe forward. "How about we continue our session, hmm?"

"Yes, please,"

The only sounds in the bedroom were breathy moans and sheets rustling.

-o0o

Apparently, Nathan was too forgiving with the guard and he assumed that the guard hadn't seen anything. Guards were paid to keep their mouths shut, but beer has a tendency to loosen one's lips. The Howe had just left his lover's room to head back to his when he was accosted by his own father, eyes darkened in unexplainable fury.

"Father? What's the matter?"

Rendon Howe merely motioned for his son to follow down another hallway, into his own quarters. Satisfied that no one was around, he faced his youngest son and slapped him hard on the cheek, leaving a red mark to well up.

"By the Maker, father!" Nathan shouted, angry at the physical assault. His father had never hit him before. He usually reserved his anger for the servants at the castle.

"Stupid boy!" Rendon spat at him in a venomous tone. "What in the Maker's arse are you doing, fooling around with that brat?"

"Brat?" Suddenly, it dawned on Nathan that his father may have heard about their affair, but from who?

"No one told me directly," Rendon answered his silent question, now pacing the space they were in. He was most distressed about this. It was bad enough that Fergus, despite his flirtations with his daughter, clearly had no intention in marrying her. Now, the Arl had to worry about this scandalous affair getting to the other nobles. He had to nip this in the butt, and do it now.

"I have a friend in Kirkwall who needs someone as a squire," his father said abruptly, standing in front of his son. Nathan disliked the manipulative twinkle in his father's eyes. He always had that cold, calculating look whenever he was planning something, even something as simple as his children's birthdays.

"Why?"

"His squire recently had a riding accident and died; he needs a new one to replace him. In fact, we're leaving tomorrow, so see to Bryce's brat, and pack up. We're leaving first thing tomorrow."

Before Nathan could even protest, his father had already left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

-o0o-

Several moments later...

"Actually, my father's sending me away," Nate said, the chair once again slamming down hard on the stoned floor. His hands wrung themselves and his feet fidgeted, "to the Free Marches."

The Howe's eyes now no longer gazed at him but found the wall behind Hadrian very interesting, despite its lack of decoration and interesting portraits. Hadrian was quite surprised at the news and he couldn't figure out what to say to his best friend. Arl Rendon Howe picked Nate as his favourite, even though he was the youngest out of the Howe siblings. He also knew of Nate's worshiping of him as well. So why? Why would his father send him away to a foreign land?

"It's for squire duty, he says," Nate went on, trying to sound stoic but failing miserably at it with his body language.

"Is it because…" Hadrian hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should express himself, especially when Nate was at a low point in an emotional roller coaster.

"He didn't say so, not to me," Nate answered his unasked question, "but he heard rumors. "

"Oh," was the monosyllable reply and it was Hadrian's turn to shift awkwardly, also finding the wall behind Nate interesting.

He should have known that this kind of thing wouldn't last, not with Arl Howe haunting his sons' every step. No wonder Thomas Howe decided to join the King's personal guard, to get away from his suspicious father.

"I guess there was no chance of us, after all," Nate whispered quietly to him, not wanting to be overheard by other people, guards or none.

His hand gripped Hadrian's tightly and there was an answering grasp. The two youths looked at each other again and the sense of loss, of something that could have been more between them than close friendship hung heavy in the air, blanketing them in silence. Their faces were already inches away from each other and it would have been so easy for Nate to place his lips on top of the Cousland's. He couldn't risk it though, not even for a final good-bye. Hadrian, on the other hand, had other ideas and as soon as no one was watching them, he leaned forward and gave Nate a passionate, farewell kiss. After that, Nate pulled away at the sound of footsteps from the corridor. He cupped Hadrian's face with his larger hand, to which Hadrian leaned into it, his eyes closing at the gentle affection Nate was showing him. The warmth of his friend's hand left him, causing him to open his eyes, only to find Nate already having left the room. His action spared him in seeing the mournful expression on Nate's face, but it still hurt nonetheless.

The following day, the Howes were leaving for their home in Amaranthine and the families said their good-byes. Bryce and Rendon fiercely hugged each other while the two mothers pecked on each other's cheeks. The siblings merely waved good-bye, not showing any signs of affection, especially Nathan and Hadrian, who avoided each other's stares. Delilah, knowing everything that's going on between her brothers and the Cousland siblings, truly wanted to jab Nate in the ribs for not even saying a 'good-bye' but her mouth shut at the sight of Nate's mournful gaze. Her brother had talked to her late last night about his conversation with Hadrian and she too hated their father for doing this. A sharp but mindful girl, she observed the subtle signs of the two wanting to be with each other: the brush of hands, the flush on the cheeks whenever a compliment was given to him by the other person, and just the way they acted around each other. It was cruel of her father to do this to Nate. Too cruel and she had an inkling that the home trip was going to be troublesome between the present son and the father.

Her carriage ready, Delilah gave the boys a kiss on the cheeks and she took delight in causing Fergus to blush all the way from his ears to his torso. Her hands lifted up her plain riding skirt, one that wouldn't be missed if she had mud and dirt on it, and, with some help from the porter, climbed into the construct. Nate was already in there, in a foul mood as well. She was definitely not going to have fun traveling back home. Her mother settled in the seat across from them, a mirror lying across her lap.

"Now, dears," she crooned, her head nudging in the direction of the waving Couslands, "wave good-bye. You won't be seeing them for a long while."

"I thought we were going to be seeing them before Summermere Tournament, for Fergus' birthday?"

"Your father will be busy in the next few years, so no, we won't be attending either event unfortunately."

Delilah became disappointed at this. She was really looking forward to seeing Fergus again and Hadrian too. What could be so important to her father that they couldn't afford a simple visit to the Couslands? The carriage bumped up and she looked out of the window, noticing a very familiar young man standing in the crowd of guards that had waved them. Could that be him? But Father said he was running errands at Dragon's Peak…The young man glared at her and she quickly averted her gaze, experiencing a horrifying sensation that something ill was brewing and it involved that man.