The Child of Stars, part I

"Fergus! What? What are you doing?" Hadrian exclaimed. The younger Cousland expected his older brother to still be in his armor but seeing him cleaning his sword and shield angered the younger brother. Fergus, for his part, merely sheathed his sword at his hip and gifted Hadrian a wolfish grin, one that reminded the latter of their innocent days, full of pranks and languor.

"I can't very well let you march in there all by yourself," Fergus replied as he finished putting up his shield. He shifted a little bit, grimacing slightly when the bottom edge of the shield brushed none too gently against his lower back. The shield was a little heavier than the one he used for training but it gave better protection, both from melee attacks and long-distance assaults. Thus, the dual protection was worth the cumbersome weight.

"No, you're going to stay here," Hadrian demanded and he strolled confidently to his older brother. Both brothers stared at each other, neither one giving ground to the other. Alistair coughed a little, perhaps trying to breakup the little staring contest the pair were engaged in. It worked, somewhat, but not to Hadrian's favor. In fact, from what Alistair could see, a smug grin appeared on Fergus' handsome face and the blonde warrior could have sworn that Hadrian was blushing furiously in response. What on earth could they be communicating about? No words were exchanged but there was clearly something going on here, something he wasn't privy to.

"Besides, as your older brother, I'm charged to keep you safe," Fergus' voice sounded final and the stubbornness of the Cousland heir prompted an exasperated sigh from the second son. "For other reasons."

Fergus' eyes glanced over to Alistair's but flickered back to Hadrian's before the blonde warrior could discern anything amiss. However, Hadrian caught on to it and he punched his brother in the shoulder, hard.

"Come on," Hadrian finally relented, knowing full well that there was nothing he could do or say to change his brother's mind about going. "I just hope we don't have the Archdemon come on top of our heads. I have to get some shuteye sometime this week."

A candlelight later, Hadrian and his four companions found themselves unsuccessfully sneaking along the stoned walls of the inner hallways. Everyone found the oddly silent and empty rooms unnerving; even Loren, who had faced down demons of the Fade during his Harrowing, grew perturbed at the lack of bodies, dead or otherwise. Several moments later, all were relieved to bump into a crowd of the undead before losing themselves in another skirmish.

"I don't like this," Cullen mumbled, a little bit nervously. The feel of magic was incredibly heavy around here, particularly where they encountered the undead and had to put them down. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his skin itched as the air shifted. It felt like someone was pulling away their mana, perhaps trying to concentrate the power of mana somewhere else. He rubbed against his forehead, the heavy presence of mana causing his head to throb uncomfortably.

Loren noticed the templar's discomfort and he laid a hand on the padded shoulder, letting his rejuvenating energies seep into the armor and finally Cullen's being. "Better?"

Cullen nodded numbly, not finding his voice to thank his mage. As much as he would like to keep Loren close to him, behind him in fact, he couldn't risk leaving his mage vulnerable in the rear of the party. Thus, and it looked like Alistair was thinking the same way as well, the mage and Hadrian were huddled protectively in the middle of the group. Fergus was out in the front, his eyes sharp and alert for anything out of the ordinary to jump at them. Both Alistair and Cullen followed behind the three men, with the two warriors giving their respective partners a critical eye to see if the two had procured any injuries from the last skirmish.

It was quite comical, really, to witness two grown men constantly checking over their loved ones. While it was cute to watch, Hadrian was getting rather annoyed with it but Alistair was stubborn; eventually, even the mighty impatient Cousland had to bow down to the whims of a lover.

Fergus heard his brother mutter soft expletives underneath his breath but the exasperated tone brought a smile to the older brother's face. Perhaps, the blonde warrior would be good for Hadrian. The light-hearted banter continued through the hallways and even into the courtyard, despite the Revenant almost killing Fergus and Hadrian.

Both Cullen and Loren had never fought a creature such as the one they faced. The amber glow behind the Revenant's face chilled the mage right down to his very soul but fear was swept away by an instinctive need to survive. He usually liked to cause damage from a safe distance but this fight was different. Their opponent had an annoying skill that Loren wished he had himself, a force spell that pulled an enemy towards the spell caster. Every time he tried to heal anyone low on health, the Revenant's hand would reach out and yank him forward, thus disrupting his healing spells.

Additionally, it kept summoning more of those pesky undead and though their attacks were insignificant compared to their summoner, a whole of them could still kill the foursome. Their enemy's magical abilities were mitigated by the two templars' holy smite, with Loren at a very safe distance from it. It wouldn't bode well for the warriors to have an unconscious healer right in the middle of a battle.

The only sound that indicated the end of the battle was a harsh groan echoing behind the horned helmet and the red glow vanished, followed by a loud clang as the Revenant slumped forward. Those still alive were easily disposed of by a wall of fire and the stench from the burning dead made everyone want to retch.

"Ugh..." Hadrian moaned and he flicked an eyeball that somehow got stuck on his shoulder. "I'm definitely going to need to take a shower after this."

If anyone had seen how Alistair's nostrils literally flare at that thought, no one commented on it. Only Fergus smelled the faint scent of arousal and felt that it was targeted at his younger brother who was innocently brushing off more of the sticky, bloody parts that splattered on him. He gave Alistair a knowing smile and that caused the blonde warrior to blush slightly before his face became neutral or attempted to be. The poor effort made the older Cousland smile even more and he just shook his head, grateful that he was alive to see this awkward hit-and-miss flirting between his brother and his lover.

A more serious thought, however, slipped into his mind and the older brother knew that it would be solely up to him to bear heirs to the Cousland line. Somehow, with a future male partner. The image of that bronze-skinned elf having a distended tummy came up and he couldn't contain his laughter at that preposterous idea of seeing that particularly elf pregnant. No way. There was just no way for this to occur.

"Fergus, are you alright? Maybe that Revenant hit you on the head a little bit harder than it looked." Hadrian had come closer to Fergus and two worried blue eyes looked over him, scanning for any missed wounds.

"I'm alright," Fergus replied, trying to control his laughter. This really wasn't the time or place to think of pregnant Dalish elves. Hadrian's eyebrow lifted upwards, the younger Cousland a little bit confused at the older Cousland's mannerisms.

"Ok, Fergus," Hadrian said and his head turned to face the inner wall that would lead to the atrium of the Redcliffe Castle. "We better go. I don't want to risk losing Teagan and anyone else. Loren, do you have enough mana left to heal us of any injuries?"

"Yes," the dark-haired mage nodded in answer and everyone was wreathed in blue before collectively sighing in relief. "Better?"

"Thanks, Loren. Let's go and see who's waiting for us." Hadrian said and the foursome headed to the large double doors, which opened for them easily enough. Too easy and all of them tensed as they entered the quiet entrance.

So used to the light of the outside world and the lamps lighting the haunted hallways, the darkness blinded them. They stumbled towards the end until they heard laughter that made the hairs on their necks stand up. It was a child laughter but it sounded eery and quite sinister. The way the sounds bounced off the stones walls was unnatural and what followed the laughter were scuffled movements. Then, another giggle, but not from a child.

As they entered the larger atrium, they found out who giggled and Hadrian's heart sunk at the sight of his friend posing in a ridiculous stance, his knees bent with his arms outstretched and hands wavering in the air. Teagan had his back to him so Hadrian and the others couldn't see the glazed look in the redhead's eyes. However, all of them knew that the younger Geurrin was entranced and Loren whispered something to Hadrian before he was interrupted by a blonde child's inquiry.

If the laughter made them all shiver, the demonic voice emanating from the young seven-year old Geurrin was worse. The innocence of the child's face was horribly offset by the voice and the eyes that glared at them in a disapproving way, like a child angry with having his toy being taken away from him.

In his case, the "toy" was Teagan, the village, everything that had occurred in the past week.

"Mother, who are these men who dare to invade my village?"

Isolde's eyes were cast down and her voice quivered in fear as she answered her child's question. "I..."

"Let him go!" Hadrian shouted angrily and he stepped forward. Alistair's hand caught him on the elbow but Hadrian brushed it off, not daring to move his eyes off from the possessed Connor.

"It was a fair deal! He offered himself for the father he loves so dearly," Connor growled and his hand shot forth, his finger pointing straight not at Hadrian but at the tall mage standing behind him. "He has mentioned you would come for him."

"He?" Hadrian asked and everyone turned their heads to Loren, who sadly shook his head and set his staff down, sending a resounding echo throughout the entirety of the room.

"Jowan is here, yes," Loren said calmly and fully aware of Cullen's angry gaze on him. "Where is he?"

The child threw its head back and released a bone-chilling laugh, one that made Hadrian sick to his stomach. "Mother dearest had him held, like a dog on a leash by one of your favourite men." The pale lips were pulled back into a taunting sneer. "What was that practice called?"

"You had him tranquiled?" Loren gasped and his face paled, so much so that Cullen, despite his anger at Loren's acknowledgment of Jowan's whereabouts, was ready to catch his mage should he fall.

The demon's face twisted into a grimace, as if sharing that same feeling of terror with Loren. "No. Not annulled. Tranquiled mages are of no use to us. They-"

The child suddenly clutched at his head, as if in pain, and he let out a hoarse scream of agony. "Mother! It hurts!"

Before anyone could do anything, the child ran from the room, his eyes wild and frightened. In his wake though were the entranced soldiers of the castle who bore down upon the foursome without hesitation and lacking any mercy.

-o0o-

"You tortured him?" Loren's eyes simmered with anger and Fergus knew full well that the power shifting beneath those emerald orbs was just the tip of what he could do.

Isolde turned her full gaze on him and she gasped as she saw not the figure of magic but of something far more deadly. Of a dragon that wanted to devour its prey.

"Y-yes, I thought…I thought he was responsible for Connor's magic being uncontrollable."

"And you secretly hired a rogue Templar to torture," Loren spat, his voice tinged with biting venom. If looks could kill, Isolde would be dust in the wind and then no more. "You know what Templars do to mages, Arlessa Isolde?" He advanced on Isolde, uncaring of how her guards moved in front of her, trying to block his way. The noble Orlesian, to the astonishment of her guards, merely brushed them aside with a command of 'no.'

"They beat you into submission and for most females and an unlucky few males, they rape you, taking what pleasure they can find in your begs for mercy." Loren's voice barely hitched but Cullen noticed the slight tremors of the tall mage's frame. Loren, despite showing off a strong front, was in actuality very vulnerable, but only those who know him intimately could tell.

Cullen's eyes suddenly flickered over to where the Couslands were standing, quiet but imposing. He had a feeling that they shared a rather long and friendly history with the dark-haired mage. It was only the rules of propriety and conduct that kept them in place. Otherwise, Isolde would be in serious danger, not from Loren himself, but from two of the oldest Teryns in the history of Ferelden. In terms of rank, the Couslands were above the Guerrins; the Guerrins' saving grace was the blood relation of the late Queen Rowan.

Isolde stood firm in her ground, her own red-brownish eyes glaring back at the advancing mage.

"Yes, I knew what Templars could do. I even…"

Loren's eyes widened at what she didn't say. His hands clenched into tight fists, the knuckles whitening in his rising anger.

"Isolde, you," Fergus said in utter shock, his own face pale at having heard what his friend's wife did. The other men and women were equally shocked and disgusted. Only Alistair and Hadrian weren't totally taken aback by her admission. In fact, Alistair gripped Hadrian's elbow with a surprising strength, the taller Warden doing his best to prevent his love from committing an action he would regret later.

"Eamon and Connor were suffering; this mage was responsible!" Isolde exclaimed. She pointed an accusing finger at a bound mage, whose head was bowed down. The man standing right behind him was not clad in templar regalia but Cullen recognized the man as the one who was suspended from the tower, the one who violated his Loren.

"You!" Cullen cried out, his sword already drawn out and prompting shouts from everyone nearby. The hooded stranger looked up and his thin lips pulled back into a grimace at being recognized by another templar. The grimace slowly turned into a smirk when the man laid eyes on the mage standing to the right of the templar.

"Cullen? I thought you might be here, especially with your precious mage hanging around here."

At the sound of his voice, Loren whirled around and if his former rapist had expected him to be scared of him, he was sorely wrong. Sadly though, Loren was furious, no, livid, at seeing this man who had abused him in the past.

Before anyone could do anything, Ser Isaac let out a loud roar, throwing virtually everyone to the ground; only Alistair. Fergus, and Cullen were the only ones who managed to stay standing on their feet. Cullen, slightly dazed, could only watch as Isaac muttered something, a familiar chant that Cullen knew by heart. The words brought fear into his heart as the mages present let out pained cries and subsequently slumped to the ground.

Ser Isaac, seeing his chance at finally getting his prize back, advanced on the stunned Loren, who was on his hands and knees, gasping for his breath. Loren managed to lift his head up and Isaac reveled in seeing those green eyes of his victim. How they had haunted him, from his suspension to the present. He did not see the overwhelming desperation like he wanted; instead, there was a grim acceptance of death and Isaac snarled out of frustration.

"If I can't have you, mage," Isaac sneered and he lifted his sword high, ready to deliver the final blow. "No one can."

"No!" Cullen shouted out and he threw himself at Isaac, forcing their bodies to crash to the stoned floor. Ser Isaac's sword flew out of the former Templar's hand but Isaac had bigger things to worry about than reaching for his sword. He had an armful of an angry templar.

Cullen's lithe build put him at a disadvantage when fighting against Isaac's much bulkier frame. The brown-haired rogue templar cuffed Cullen on the temple, dazing his attacker and allowing him to roll over on top of him. He hastily pinned his hips above Cullen's stomach and wrapped both hands around the neck.

Cullen struggled uselessly, lifting his hips in an attempt to throw off his opponent. The way Isaac positioned himself on Cullen made it nigh impossible for the attempt to succeed and Cullen's thoughts grew sluggish, as did his movements. He cursed the Maker for having his last sight on Thedas be that of his mage's oppressor.

Even the sneering face started to gray and Cullen gasped, his hands scraping against Isaac's face. The pressure around his neck then suddenly disappeared and his body felt lighter, as if he was flying to the Fade or something.

Someone tapped his cheek and murmured his name. Cool fingertips brushed along his brow and soon, the warm sensation seeped out from them and into his mind. The blonde gasped, taking in much needed air.

"Easy there, Cullen," Loren whispered calmly. "Slow, deep breaths or you'll hyperventilate."

"Loren…where? How?" Cullen's eyes searched the room frantically, looking for the templar that threatened his life. There, right behind Loren, he espied a bloody hand and his eyes widened at seeing the headless torso, the head having rolled underneath the wooden table set near the stoned wall.

"He's dead," someone else spoke and Cullen's head jerked upwards, his hand instinctively flying to a sword that was no longer in his grasp. "And we've got Connor in the next room. Luckily, the boy's in control enough to release his hold on Teagan and everybody else."

Hadrian offered a hand to him and Cullen took it, surprised at the inhuman strength behind it when he was virtually yanked to his feet. He almost stumbled back and Loren steadied him with a hand on his shoulder before finally going to kneel at the bound mage. There was a soft murmur of a spell and a low groan of pain emitted from the bound mage. Jowan slumped forward into Loren's arms, unconscious and bloody. Cullen would have dragged Loren back away from the man who started all of this but the distraught look on his friend's face stopped him.

"He's completely drained of mana..." Loren's voice cracked in sympathy. "But he's not tranquil. Thank the Maker."

"He started this!" Isolde screamed in a shrill tone. "If it weren't for him-"

"No," Hadrian cut in, standing between her and his friends. "It started because of your selfish needs! Eamon might have understood your concerns and even helped you. But, instead, you turned to secrecy and treachery."

"I only did it out of necessity." Isolde said defensively and Hadrian couldn't argue with that. People would do anything to protect their loved ones and his eyes closed at the images of what he might have to do in the end of all this. Of leaving Alistair behind and alone...

"Ok, now we've an angry child to deal with. How?" Alistair asked. The taller blonde had sheathed his sword and strapped his shield back. Blood had spattered all over the front of his golden armor and Cullen wondered how he got blood on him. Then, he glanced around the room and found several bodies lying around, most of them bearing the sigil of the Guerrin family.

"Are they-?" Cullen began to ask but the slight smile curling Loren's lips answered it for him. To support his theory, groaning sounds could be heard from the downed men and some of them shifted, even attempting to sit up despite their wounds.

"Loren here really outdid himself," Hadrian praised his friend with a grin on his pale face. The shorter warrior patted the pair on the shoulders before walking towards the other blonde and Fergus. From a distance, Cullen saw their heads bowed in together, as if discussing something private and not for their ears. A couple of times, Alistair's eyes had flickered over to him and Loren before returning to face the speaker of the group.

Before he could ask Loren about Jowan, however, the group broke up and approached Loren.

"Loren, is it possible to save Connor without killing him," came the weighted question.

Already distressed by the condition of his fellow mage, Loren at first didn't answer Hadrian's inquiry. Then, his eyes darkened in thought, something Cullen noticed it being a habit of his mage. After a few minutes of thinking, the tall mage then nodded in reply.

"Yes, there are ways," Loren slowly started to answer, as if unsure of whether or not to suggest them to his friends. Laying Jowan on the stoned floor, he rose to meet Hadrian's gaze.

"The ultimate result is sending the mage into the Fade to directly confront the demon. However, this can be done in two ways: lyrium with the full support of other mages or one mage through blood magic."

"Absolutely not!" Cullen cried out indignantly. "We're in this mess in the first place because of blood magic!"

Only Loren knew the truth behind the templar's words and he winced at how limited their options were. Time was essential in de-possessing a person and they all couldn't afford to waste it by arguing over the moral ambiguity of blood magic. Both Cullen and Alistair visibly refused to use that route but Hadrian neither opposed or supported the idea. Fergus honestly wasn't sure of who to side with but he had faith in his brother's decisions.

"Alright. We'll do this the right way," Hadrian finally said. "Loren and Cullen, you stay here and watch over Connor. Alistair, we're going to the Circle of Magi and see if First Enchanter Irving follows through his promise to help us. Fergus?"

"I'll stay here as well. Keep Isolde company," Fergus answered.

Hadrian sighed heavily and he wiped his forehead tiredly. It was going to be a long trek back to the Circle and Hadrian prayed to the Maker that they would make it back to Connor in time.

-TBC-

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I got caught up with exams and work. Also, a recent reviewer absolutely disliked this story, so much so that he or she left an entire essay to elaborate on how this story was akin to a 'Harlequin' novel and pleading to me that I should stop writing. When I read this review, I was honestly about to post this chapter but the review left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth and thus I postponed it as I was seriously considering on not posting/updating any new stories. But, then, I thought that only one out of 239 reviewers hated my story so I'm doing something right, right? Can't make everyone happy...

So, if you, the reader, dislike the story, please provide any helpful comments on how to improve the story mechanics, etc, etc instead of just spouting nonsense at me.

To end on a happier note, please leave a nice line or two!

Thanks!