Chapter 7: Knowing Strangers

Notes:

Ages of characters:

Hadrian – 15; about to be sixteen.

Teagan – 20

Fergus – 19.5

Eamon – 29

Isolde – 25

Connor – 4

Alistair – 17

Cailan – 16, going on to 17

This occurs ten years after Alistair was sent away.

Blah - thoughts

'blah' – quote from someone

Thanks to the following:

Reviewers: Aki (your reviews are awesome and highly encouraging!), Galen Hithwen (thanks for the comment about 'going outside the box'; :D), Detrimental Sunshine (I always wanted to have a Cousland background; I think it would make the tragic events in Human Noble Origin that much more tragic), Raven Jadewolfe (I hate Rendon Howe with a passion...Maker curse that man!), and YoshisSupport (It's going to be a while until he meets with Alistair, but when he does, even the Maker will have a nosebleed!)

Favs: YoshisSupport, Madness of Angels, GjGgirl009, Malhann Hawke, Alasse Telrunya, and Ladywhipple

Alerts: YoshisSupport, Detrimental Sunshine, Galen Hithwen, GjGgirl009, Black rose dark angel, Taisenokami, Maldai, Hikari Kaiya, HollyisMyName, Smalville-HarryPotterfan13

Anonymous readers: thanks to all who gave their time in reading this series.

I promise to you all that it will be worth the read!

-o0o-

It got terribly lonely at the Castle for Hadrian Cousland. Only three weeks passed since the Howes' departure but he had already missed the warm presence of Nathan. When Nathan's father indirectly separated them by sending Nathan on a squire duty, which Hadrian knew it to be an excuse and not out of a real need, the latter wondered on the what ifs already. He was only fifteen years old and yet he had already begun to feel some regrets.

His parents knew that their son was missing the absent Howe, but they didn't know the exact reason why. Only Fergus could know and Eleanor was determined in finding out what ailed her youngest son.

She had her servant hunt Fergus down and twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock on her door, which opened slowly after her audible permission. Fergus stood in the doorway, a perplexed expression etched on his handsome face. Eleanor watched him walk through the door and when he sat across from her on the bed, she realized at how much he had grown. His whiskers were maturing around his face, but he had spent the time to shave his jaw, leaving barely seen stubble that only added the mature look to him. His dark brown hair, darkened from the original silver colour as a small child, was brushed carefully and no bangs covered his eyes, leaving them bare to the world and its onlookers. Unlike Hadrian's startling blue eyes, Fergus' were of a hazel colour and if one looked even closer, they could see a ring of gold surrounding the iris.

He had chosen to appear before her in his evening suit, one that consisted of an Antivan tunic, its burgundy colour a lovely match with the deep blue shade of his trousers, which were Orlesian in origin. Eleanor had to say that even though the Orlesians were their previous conquerors, the nobles really had a taste for fashion and quality in clothes. Just the trousers alone were of finest silk and very expensive. She inwardly winced at the price the tailor asked or rather politely demanded from her. 50 sovereigns for it! She could have bought the exact same pair in Denerim for a quarter of the price. Of course, she was on very friendly terms with Kelia, the shop owner, but that was beside the point.

Seeing her son fidget almost nervously before her, she put a sharp rein on her drifting thoughts. She had a goal to meet and it was to see why Hadrian was moping around the castle. No, not moping. He still did his chores and they were performed wonderfully, an unusual behaviour for a boy approaching his 16th winter's harvests. Whenever she asked him to make his bed, he would do it right then and there. His father's requests to train and clean his equipment were met with equal vigor. However, at the dinner table, he was strangely quiet; his eyes were often found frequenting the seat opposite him and Eleanor had realized that Nate would sit there whenever he and his family were visiting. Now though, it was just an empty seat, bereft of its handsome occupant.

"Mum?"

Damn it! I'm drifting again! Eleanor quickly composed herself, trying to look like the stern mother that she had always been. However, the smirk on her son's face made her fail miserably and she decided that sometimes the best way to get information is to be direct.

"Something is wrong with your brother." It wasn't a question but a statement, one borne of a week's observations and a mother's intuition. Fergus' eyes widened and she knew immediately that her hunch was right. Apparently, whatever was wrong with Hadrian had made him uncomfortable enough to talk to anyone, even with his parents.

At first her son didn't' say anything, and then just when she was about to prod him on, he took a deep breath and his posture relaxed. In turn, she too relaxed. Maybe she was just overreacting.

"He's ok, mother. Perhaps it's best if you talk to him though."

"He's nowhere to be found, Fergus. Even the elves don't know where he is and that ugly mongrel is missing too. How can my son and a large mutt be missing in plain sight?"

"I don't know mother. Maybe he doesn't want to be found."

"Fergus," her tone, no longer amused and having an edge of frustration to it, became deeper and Fergus fidgeted again. Hadrian needs to get his head out of its ass and talk to mother! She's scary when she gets mad and I'm a man already!

"Look, you know how the Howes left so suddenly? They were supposed to be here for an entire month. Don't you think it's strange that they would only be here for a week, at most?"

"Yes, I noticed their abrupt departure. It's too bad that you flat out refused Delilah's hand, even after all that time you spent with her!"

Ahh, yes, mother must have heard about that…Fergus winced at the harsh tone but she quieted, letting him continue with his story.

"Well, he was just himself, happy and goofy as always. Then as soon as they leave, he's all depressive and lonely. You know that Delilah was with me the entire time. As for Nate, well, he was with Hadrian."

The silence that rolled over was deadly and ominous. His mother's face paled considerably and her jaw clenched, her mouth working to say something but couldn't. Fergus inhaled and he prepared himself for her usual outburst of disapproval. Instead of her horrible shouting and yelling, she hugged him, her arms wrapping themselves around his broad frame.

"Thank you, that's all I need to know," she whispered to him before kissing him on the cheek. "I'm sure you have work to do and there's a certain boy I need to find,"

Fergus was really shocked by his mother's behaviour, but then again, he shouldn't be. He wasn't given much time to respond as his mother rushed him out of her bedroom, with her closing the door behind them. She turned to face her eldest son and she asked him a weird question.

"You are still single, yes? We must arrange something then."

Before he could say something, she had already started heading out to the Training Grounds. The lamps were lit in the corridors and the sun's rays had declined below the castle walls. It was already 4th hour to the moon and Fergus thought it strange that his mother would be heading out that way instead of walking towards her sewing chambers. He hoped that this time Hadrian would be found and that there would be a smile on his brother's face.

-o0o-

Whatever Fergus had wished for came true the next few days. Hadrian's steps were lighter and his face once again beamed happily at his family members as well as the guards, who too were getting rather worried for their Lord's son. The elder Cousland really must prod his brother for information. What could his mother have done that he couldn't do himself, as Hadrian's own brother? True, they were four years apart but besides the parents, they were all they had. He finally had an opportunity to corner his brother, so to speak, after their regular sparring session.

They had just finished their final round, with Fergus ending it with a sword strike that would have neatly cut through Hadrian's neck, even with a neck guard on. Afterwards, the two brothers retreated to the Cleaning Rooms and sought out for their private rooms, where no guards were permitted inside, except with a written permission from a Cousland. It was there that Fergus discovered how his mother managed to get Hadrian to open up.

"So what did mum say to you?" Fergus asked his brother, pulling off a sweat-drenched shirt and toweling his upper half with a clean towel. Hadrian was working on getting out of his greaves and he had managed to wriggle himself into a pair of loose pants before answering. "She persuaded me by saying that I would have to help her out with girl stuff. And then I told her that I was fey."

"What? I-I didn't know that." Fergus spluttered unmanly, dropping the now dirty towel on the stoned floor. Wow, he had no idea that his own brother was that way. If word got out that his own brother was fey, it would prove dire for the Cousland House. Ferelden was known for two things: smelling like dogs and their propensity to show disapproval of anyone engaging in the lewd acts of the Maker, such as same-sex relationships. Thankfully, after King Jorly II's decree that anyone caught harassing the populace due to his or her preferences would be treated the same way, the persecution had decreased drastically. Sadly, it only worsened the situation for those were fey as the punishments for their unnatural ways were meted out in the dark alleys, away from innocent and not so innocent witnesses.

Hadrian stiffened at his brother's expletives and he was disheartened that even his brother would think him different. He was right in not telling Fergus about this particular secret. His change in manner caught Fergus' eye and the elder Cousland sighed heavily, knowing that perhaps his curses were uncalled for. He had known Hadrian for all of his life and this one tidbit wasn't going to change the fact that he loved his brother.

"Hadrian," Fergus started to say, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not bothered by that. I'm just hurt that you couldn't tell me. I'll gut Nathan for this, I promise you."

"No! I mean, it wasn't Nate's fault."

"How can you protect that guy! He's the one that put you in this miserable state!"

"Fergus, it wasn't his fault! I'm quite sure it was his father's hand in all this."

"His father? You mean Rendon knows about this, about you?"

"Well, he didn't exactly see us, but-"

"By the Maker, Hadrian!"

"Calm down, Fergus," Hadrian stood up, having already dressed himself up while Fergus was too busy gawking at him, still half-dressed. "I know some things that would make him not even consider exploiting my secrets."

The firm tone made it clear that the conversation was ended and Fergus could only look helplessly on his brother, who was fast disappearing from his view. However, Fergus was not wondering at how fast Hadrian was walking away from him, but how he had changed so much over the past few weeks. Where was the happy go lucky boy that Fergus knew? The memories of their childhood pranks erupted forth but they were hidden away by the shadows of the present. He knew that his little brother would have a troubling future and swore that Nathan would pay for his transgression.

-o0o-

Dinnertime was quiet again and Bryce was having quite enough of this unusual silence that reigned their family time with a heavy hand. Eleanor had come to him, almost in tears, several hours earlier and he spent all his time comforting her. He managed to come up with some understanding of her words that were said as coherently as possible in between her light sobs and frustrated moans. Unlike Fergus who didn't see it coming though, Bryce wasn't surprised at all to hear of his youngest son's way. He wasn't happy about it, but he wasn't shocked or saddened by it. His older brother, Maker bless his heart, was that way too and he discovered it too late after going through a loveless marriage.

Bryce remembered with a sore heart at seeing his brother's broken body lying slumped against his own desk, a sharp blade protruding from his back, wet in blood. His brother, Lloyd, couldn't take it anymore and had opted to take his own life, leaving behind an estranged son and a very happy wife, a woman that Bryce still disliked to this very day. He shivered at the image of his youngest son replacing that of Lloyd and the knife in his hand snapped in two, the wood breaking into splinters that now stabbed into his palm rather painfully.

"Darling, are you ok?"

A sweet voice asked after him and he looked down at the broken knife, marveling at how easily this fragile thing could be broken. Was this how Hadrian was to meet his fate in the end? To marry under false pretenses and then suffer for it? No, Bryce would rather have no heirs and have a happy son than otherwise. Nothing was more important than his family's happiness.

Speaking of which, he had noticed that Fergus was still single and he was approaching his twentieth summers, an age where a male noble should be engaged to another female noble. Hmmm. He recently received a missive fro Arl Eamon, who requested his presence for his son's fourth birthday, as the Couslands were the boys' close parents [?]. Perhaps a nice diversion away from the castle would prove good for all of them.

"Yes, dear," Bryce used a clean cloth, provided by another servant, and pulled out the splinters. "I have some good news for you all."

All heads looked up from their plates to centre on him.

"Arl Eamon's little boy is having his fourth birthday. He wishes us to be there by the New Moon, which is in two weeks and that will give us plenty of time to get there by horse."

-o0o-

Two weeks was more than enough for the trip to Redcliffe. Apparently the Arl thought so too and he had arranged guards to be posted along the bridge that was located just before the Village's entrance. The guards, seeing the Cousland Crest of the Wolf's Head, saluted immediately. The gates opened and the carriage, followed by a small troupe of the most trusted guards, entered the premises of Redcliffe Castle. The Guerrins were waiting patiently for them at the main gates of Redcliffe castle, a little boy clutching nervously at his mother's skirts. The driver pulled back the reins, bringing the carriage to a slow halt. The horses nickered in protest but nonetheless stopped.

"Hello, you must be Hadrian," Eamon's hand clasped his and Hadrian realized that his gray hair was very deceiving. The strength behind that clasp told the young Cousland that were he to enter a duel with him, he would lose for sure. "Oh my, you have grown quite a bit since I last saw you,"

Hadrian didn't remember seeing the Arl before. It must have been when he was still a baby. His mother confirmed it by saying in return, "well, Eamon, 5-year olds can't stay that age forever."

Eamon laughed at the statement. He shook his head and then stepped back to reveal a young redhead with a little boy in tow. He picked up the cowering son and settled him next to his chest, perched safely on his arm. "This little one here is the birthday boy, Connor. See hello to them, son."

"Hello."

"He still doesn't quite have those 'l' sounds down yet. Blame it on my wife's accent." The Arl earned a sharp elbow from the young lady standing beside him.

"Husband, it is difficult to teach him both Orlesian and Ferelden." Isolde huffed, her eyes glaring pointedly at her wounded husband. She turned to regard the Couslands with a haughty eye, most particularly the young 15 year old, who was remarkably at her height. Oh my. He's a tall one for his age. And silver hair, still? Fergus' hair turned brown by this time.

"I am Isolde," she curtsied politely to him. Hadrian didn't know what to make of this woman. She was of Orlesian nobility, as evidenced by her high cheekbones and small jaw. Her green eyes glinted coldly through her eyelashes and she smelled off to him. He didn't know how he could smell her, but she smelled dangerous and there was an aura of something around her. Not necessarily dark or evil. But there was definitely something there that made Hadrian feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Milady," he replied as politely as he could and the four year-old boy laughed in his father's arms, pointing out at how his hair made him look old.

"Fergus, how goes your training?" Eamon had moved on to his brother, who stood patiently beside him. The two men shook hands. "I hear from your father that this one."

Eamon's grey head nudged in Hadrian's direction. "I hear this one's been giving you a hard time."

"It's because I let him," Fergus made a smart comeback but both brothers knew that it was just a cover-up, that Hadrian really was getting better and better every day. It was as if his younger brother had a sixth sense or something like that. He asked his father about it, but his father brushed his concerns off with a hand and a cryptic statement. 'His senses are just growing'. What the heck does that mean?

"I'm sure it's more than that. Maybe Teagan can find out for himself."

"Where is Teagan by the way?" Fergus was looking for the young Geurrin brother, who was absent in this reunion between old friends. He had hoped to see the boy soon. They had much to talk about.

"Oh, he just finished his sparring session. More than likely he is bathing himself. Come, let's go inside. It's quite warm, even for the summer months." The Couslands followed the leading Arl and his lady back into the cool interior of the castle.

Several hours later, all the adults had sat around the fireplace, trading stories about their lives. The boys, however, were off doing their own thing. There was still some sun left in the day and Teagan wanted to test Hadrian's skills in combat himself. He knew that though Fergus was no warrior, he excelled with the bow and short blades. Going against Fergus with a mighty sword and shield would prove unfair. Hadrian, on the other hand, was another story. His father, who was always in communication with the Couslands, had told Teagan that he better sharpen his skills if he wanted to be known for his battle prowess.

And apparently, Bryce Cousland wasn't exaggerating about his son's prowess in battle. Teagan found this out the hard way and earned bruises and some minor cuts from his skirmish with the young Cousland. He pulled off his armor and winced when one of his ribs protested with the movement. Damn, he got me good there! He gingerly rubbed his torso and was relieved to not feel any abnormal bumps that would herald a cracked or broken rib. Hadrian had apologized quite profusely afterward and his change in personality completely baffled the younger Guerrin. How could this boy switch from being a nice, innocent boy to a completely focused warrior, who was bent on defeating his opponent. Luckily, both him and the boy had learned self-control. Otherwise, the both of them would be lying in the Infirmary Wing, with healers hovering over them.

After dressing himself in more comfortable clothes, he sought out the boys and found them conversing with the ladies of the castle. While Fergus was conversing with a very pretty young lady, Hadrian was idly listening to a female blonde, who was too oblivious to realize that her companion was entirely not interested in her at all.

Hadrian's eyes, glazed over in boredom, managed to find his and they brightened, as if saying, please help me!

Teagan just shook his head at the young boy's predicament and decided that he would help rescue the poor boy from the lady's idle talk.

"Ah, there you two." He said and he walked towards the group. "Shall we move to a comfortable place, like where our parents are, perhaps?"

"Well, Oriana and I were thinking of just going out for a walk in the castle. She wants to give me a tour of the castle," Fergus replied and Teagan saw that look on the elder Cousland's face.

By the Maker, she already has him wrapped around her finger! The young redhead wasn't worried about them though. Oriana, despite being Isolde's close friend, was the opposite of the Arlessa. Where the Arlessa's face was seemingly cold and harsh, Oriana just radiated kindness and beauty. Her short rusty brown hair did nothing to hide her green eyes that peeped out from fine lashes. The lady was slim of build and she was a few inches shorter than Fergus. Teagan knew better than to be deceived by the fragile appearance of Oriana. One, Oriana had come from a wealthy Antivan family. Secondly, there was a popular phrase about Antivan women in particular. They kill with kindness and poison. He had seen Oriana play with a writing utensil with a skill of an experienced dagger user. The way her fingers played nimbly with the item and how she fiddled it so carelessly. Antiva was notably known for its Assassins. What was the name again? Ah, yes, the Crows. He shuddered at the thought of the Crows finding his family a target. They could hold out against an army of darkspawn or men but not even armor could prevent the person from being killed with a well-placed stab of a Crow's dagger.

"Ok, just remember that Connor's birthday celebration is tomorrow. We're having it early because someone decided to show up a few days early."

There was a round of laughter and the couple started to head out, waving their farewells to those left behind. It was almost as if Oriana was the only reason for the other girls to be there. As soon as she left, the other female nobles gave weak excuses such as needing to bathe right before the celebration, although it wasn't until tomorrow. Hadrian didn't protest and he was actually relieved to see the ladies strolling away from them, their annoying high-pitched voices still heard even some few feet away.

"Are you ok? I saw you wincing when you came over," Hadrian's eyes gazed at his friend's sore ribs thoughtfully. He hadn't meant to hit that hard. All he could think of while fighting him was to win, to win hard and fast.

"Yeah, I am. Nothing broken or even cracked." Teagan's answer was unsatisfactory but Hadrian didn't push it. "You want to see the horses?"

"Weren't we just there?"

"Well, we were kinda too busy fighting."

"Ok, then,"

The boys arrived at the stables and Teagan showed him his own personal horse. It was an Antivan Palemano, a thoroughbred horse and a very pretty one too. The light of the stables didn't do the horse justice but Hadrian could still see the shiny brown coat stretching and twitching over moving muscles. Its face regarded him coolly and the young Cousland placed a hand in front of him, allowing the horse to smell him. It reared back its head and jumped back. Eyes rolled back wildly and the horse jumped nervously in its stable. Teagan's hands shot out to catch the reins in time and he called out to his horse in a quiet tone, trying to calm him. It was already too late though. The other horses were also prancing around in their stables, their front legs pawing the ground nervously.

"By the Maker, what's going on?" He shouted over the horse's screams.

He was still trying to hold the horse's rein in his hands. Hadrian was confused himself. Usually animals were lured to his presence. Then again, most animals were canines. Even wolves in the Breckland Woods would permit him to touch them. However, his Family's horses never gave this reaction to him. Perhaps they were long used to him and his family.

"I probably should leave," Hadrian said and he walked out of the stables. When he did, the horses immediately calmed down, but theirs ears were still flattened over their heads and their teeth bared angrily. He waited for Teagan to calm the horses down. He watched the young man then check to see if they had enough food and water for the night. If the stable boys had done their jobs right, there would be enough to last the horses all night and the morning. The pails of oats and water were full to the brim and Teagan made a note that he would have to praise the stable boys for doing a good job.

"You know, the horses act like that whenever your brother's around. Same with your dad," Teagan pointed out as both he and Hadrian went in the direction of the Common Rooms, where their parents would be.

"Oh really? I didn't know that,"

"Yeah, it's really strange. I don't know what to think of it."

Neither do I, friend. The boys didn't talk anymore, lost in their own thoughts of the recent event.

-o0o-

The next day, thankfully, did not include horse riding and Hadrian had a suspicious feeling that it had to with the way the horses were acting in his family's presence. They even shied away from his own mother, which really shocked him. His mother was the kindest woman ever known, except when punishing the boys of course. On second thought, she can be a very scary lady. Hadrian still remembered at how she embarrassed both boys when the last prank they pulled had accidentally caused one of them to be injured. She forbade them from doing any more antics and forced them into helping her do 'housework.' Even the elven servants were stunned to see the Cousland boys helping them out every day for that month of punishment.

A chorus of laughter rang out in the room as the little boy, instead of blowing out the candles, rather smashed his hands in the cake. Isolde scolded her son gently and propped him against the seat again when his body threatened to fall over into the large cake. This time, he managed to blow out the candles and he giggled as he watched the flames snuff out of existence. However, no one noticed the slight blue flare that flashed in the boy's eyes, no one except for Hadrian who watched him with curious eyes.

Hadrian brought up the topic with Teagan a few days later. They were in the library this time and Hadrian was scooping out a book titled Tevinter Imperium: History of Arcane Arts and its Effects. He knew that education was vital for any nobles who hoped to involve themselves in the matters of the King's Court. To outwit someone in a game of knowledge such as King's Tome, a game of cards that required the person to name the appropriate face on the card and tell three main points of that person, would secure the awe of any dumber person and sometimes prizes were to be won, prizes such as rare manuscripts such as the one in front of Hadrian. However, magic books were quite rare and only limited to the Circle of Magi. Why was it doing out here in Lady Isolde's books?

"Please, mesere, that book is private," a timid voice said to him and he looked up to see a young dainty-looking female elf. Garbed in loose servant tunics in dull colours of blue and brown, she stood before the boys in a nervous posture. Her hands were twisting with each other while her feet shuffled. It looked like as if she was holding to go relieve herself but couldn't.

"Kallia, if books are here, then they are most certainly not private." Teagan replied in a neutral tone. Apparently not everyone shared his family's view on the elven people. Hadrian gave her a kind smile and returned it back to her. Once the book was in her grasp, she turned around and walked away at a brisk pace.

"Excuse her for her bad manners, Hadrian," Teagan apologized to his friend, but Hadrian didn't mind it. He was even more curious at why there was a book on the Arcane Arts out here in the first place. When the young Cousland asked him, Teagan's strange behaviour caused red flags to wave in Hadrian's mind. The older boy's head swiveled from side to side and his eyes roved over his surroundings. They weren't entirely alone as they espied an older man dressed in a tutor's robe teaching a very boring history lesson to a quartet of boys, who were slumping together.

"Come with me," Teagan rose up from his chair and the tone of the boy's voice made no room for debate. Hadrian followed his friend to a more private room, in fact, it was Teagan's own study. Several bookshelves and a desk took much of the walls of the room up. Small trinkets decorated the otherwise bare bookshelves while pens and papers were stacked neatly on the desk, giving the whole room an almost Spartan feel.

"That book," Teagan began and Hadrian heard his voice tremble slightly. "It was meant to be in Lady Isolde's private collection. I have no idea how it got out. Someone must have been looking at it before you and I don't know who."

Teagan had always acted so confidently, so sure whenever they were around with each other.

"I thought all books concerning magic were supposed to be contained at the Circle."

"I know but Lady Isolde insists on collecting rare items such as these."

"Does she even read them?" Orlesian women were more known for flaunting their bodices around and showing off their fashion tastes. Lady Isolde was already an enigma to Hadrian with her odd smell and that dark aura that surrounded her. She was not the only one to have it either. Conner possessed something too and the way his eyes flashed a few moments ago, albeit briefly, clearly told Hadrian that the child was not normal. He could be a Mage. Should he say something? He knew how doting Lady Isolde was, especially if the way she coddled him in front of everybody today had anything to say about it. Even Arl Eamon spoiled his only son as well, bestowing gifts on him lasciviously and Connor was only four. Hadrian shuddered to think how deep Connor's gifts could dig in Arl Eamon's treasury when the boy would turn thirteen and began his rite of passage. It was a good thing the Arl was one of the richest and most powerful nobles in all of Ferelden. The only ones higher-ranking than the Geurrins were the Couslands, an old and distinguished line that dated back to the times of King Calenhad himself. However, there was no such thing as a mage noble, no matter what his origins were. If word ever got out that Connor was a Mage, the Chantry would send Templars over quicker than one could say 'happy birthday' and then imprison him in that Circle. He had been to the Circle himself once to visit a friend of his, Loren Amell, and he hated it. The atmosphere was claustrophobic and every minute Hadrian was in there, visiting Loren, he could feel eyes boring holes in the back of his head. If it was that bad for a few hours for him as a visitor, he couldn't imagine how terrifying it was be for his friend who lived there. Sure, the Circle was necessary for it provided the Templars to watch over all the mages in Ferelden. Still, even Hadrian could see that it was little more than a prison, tall and completely shut off from the world. No, Hadrian wouldn't say anything. Connor deserved some years of happiness before the Templars would come and drag him away.

"You're thinking of something, Hadrian," Teagan interjected smartly and a grin played on the younger man's lips.

"I was just thinking of how Lady Isolde could come across it. Orlesian women love clothes and shoes," Hadrian said smoothly, "not books."

"I have no idea," Teagan said and he sat down on his chair, his thumbs twirling around each other in lazy circles. "I do know that she has secrets. However, that woman is a monster when you cross her. Touch one hair on her little boy and she'll go bloody mad on you. Almost tore off a block's arm off when he accidentally pushed Connor down."

"I think that's the same with every mother, Teagan."

"True, true. You have a point there."

Both boys let out a mirthful chuckle and they sighed as one. Soon voices clamored rather loudly outside their room and there were loud shouts of 'Connor.' It was time to get back to the party, which apparently had come to the Library itself.

-o0o-

To Arl Rendon Howe,

It would seem that your speculations are true and evidenced by a number of observations. The most prominent one is the increased frequents of missives sent from B. Cousland to a young lady named Jacquelyn in Orlais. I know there is a Jacquelyn I but she is a high-ranking noble in Orlais, perhaps third in line to the throne. Also, there is talk amongst the guards that the Couslands have a fey. I suspect it is the younger son. What would you have me do with him? Accidents happen all the time in noble families.

Kind regards,

E. Gilmore

The writer perused over the note, making sure that he left out none of the pertinent information. When he found no mistakes, he folded the letter until it was a third of its size. A pigeon cooed from its cage and he gently took the bird out of its prison. The letter was attached to the pigeon's leg and he took it to the window of the kitchen. It was late at night and the location he was at hid from the guards' watchful eyes. He double-checked though. It wouldn't do to have this letter fall into the wrong hands. Satisfied with the lack of people in his vicinity, he thrust the bird into the air quite sharply and the creature's wings opened in its attempt not to fall down. Once it balanced itself, it faced northward, towards Amaranthine, and took off.

-TBC-

A/N: I know that this part of the story is kind of slow but please bear with me as it will pick up soon, especially when the Couslands are betrayed by one of their own (guess who it is?). Any feedback is welcome. Do you love it? Hate it (please provide a reasonable explanation instead of just ranting)? Are there any suggestions? Any characters that are OOC? I tried to have them stick to the mainstream characterization but I want to flesh them out as well. Also, don't forget about the poll displayed on my profile! Thanks again for reading! :D

PS. For anonymous reviewers, if you still want to decide Fergus' fate, please vote in your review! (I think you would have to login to vote in a poll although I'm not sure)