Chapter 60: The Bear and the Wolf

Finally, the up and coming Landsmeet had been called upon and the wolf stirred restlessly within Hadrian, aching to manifest itself and clamp its jaws on that traitorous Howe's throat The two week trek from Redcliffe Castle would have drained the man's energy but the prospect of meeting up (and killing) those responsible for his family's death rejuvenated him as quickly as if Wynne had cast that spell on him.

The young Cousland wasn't the only person so relieved to finally see the fruits of their labour come to bear. Alistair and everyone else, even Sten, let out sighs of relief at the sight of the Arl's estate nested just inside Denerim's gate. Everyone in the group knew that this was the beginning of the end and, with nothing to detract them from the final goal, they were all focused on seeing their journey with Hadrian come to an end.

Unfortunately, any hopes of resting up before the Landsmeet was cut shortly with the sudden appearance of two imposing figures that started the Civil War and Hadrian barely contained his seething anger at the sight of that long, hawkish face. It was only thanks to the steady presence standing proudly at his side that Hadrian didn't listen to his beastly instincts and attack the smug looking Howe.

"Arl Eamon," the taller man growled out as he came to a stop before the elder noble. His sycophants, a young female Knight and Arl Howe, stood slightly behind the self-proclaimed Queen's Regent. "And what's this? Your hired group of mercenaries?"

"They do seem like mercenaries, so well-armed and rough of demeanor," Howe's comment, dry and sniding, didn't surprise the Arl or rather, he well-schooled his facial features to not show depict any surprises.

"Teyrn Loghain," Arl Eamon smoothly replied and the elder man's eyes narrowed at the sight of Howe's armor. There, etched on his right shoulder, was the symbol of Denerim, signifying the slender man as Arl of Denerim as well as to any other titles he may hold.

Apparently, Loghain noticed what Arl Eamon was looking at so avidly and he laughed but it was devoid of any warm friendliness the two powerful men could have held for each other.

"Arl Howe is my appointed advisor as well as the new Teyrn of Highever and Arl of Denerim." Howe bowed slightly but his eyes did not greet the stoned floor like a respectful nobleman. Instead, they were fixed on the young face standing next to Arl Eamon.

"So many titles for one man to hold," the young man said in a polite tone, "and of Highever as well? However did you manage that? Under the dark of night with a cloak and dagger?"

"Silence, you cur! You are speaking to your betters!" The female knight barked at the young man, who just greeted her with a familiar smile

"And you are speaking to the last survivor of the Couslands, a family higher than yours, Ser Cauthrien," Hadrian replied in a deep tone.

Ser Cauthrien grimaced and tension thickened even more between the two opposing groups.

"Enough! We shall settle any grievances at the Landsmeet but mark my words, no one will besmirch my Queen's rule with lies and betrayal."

Hadrian wanted to counter that but Arl Eamon subtly shook his head at him, telling the young nobleman that this wasn't the time or place to mention a possible rival to Loghain's power. Instead, all he could do was clench his jaw in anger and watch as the three visitors proudly walked back to whence they came. As they did so, Hadrian couldn't help but notice a small dagger hanging slightly from Howe's belt. Blue jewels covered the hilt in an elegant fashion and, while no blood was seen dripping off the edge, Hadrian swore that he smelt it, the scent of a fellow Cousland having been freshly stabbed or murdered. At this sudden revelation, only one thought came to mind, only one name. Fergus...

-o0o-

Later that evening and well past the time Fergus was supposed to show up, Hadrian paced erratically along the long rolled out carpet in the antechamber. Normally the incessant pacing would have annoyed everyone but no one had said anything to him.

Instead, Alistair merely watched him from afar with a concerned look while both Leliana and Wynne whispered to themselves, commenting on how late the elder Cousland was. The others were sent with Fergus, as added security in his entourage to set Hadrian's mind at ease; unfortunately, their absence only increased his anxiety even more so.

"Maker damn it," Hadrian cursed softly, not because he didn't want the curse to upset Leliana but that the other option would be to scream and rant instead. His inner wolf itched and clawed at the edges of his humanity; this restlessness could only mean one thing and Hadrian's fingers twitched around the hilt of his short dagger.

They would have waited far longer were it not for the sudden appearance of Arl Eamon himself, along with a slender elven woman.

"I'm afraid I have poor news," Arl Eamon began to say, "but Anora is-"

"My Queen is in trouble and needs your help," the elven woman rudely interrupted the Arl; her interruption caused the audience to raise the eyebrows as no elf, not even one in a high station such as her, would dare to speak out of place to higher nobles. However, no one said anything of the sort. It wasn't out of courtesy for the young lady but rather that all felt the need to hear the story or excuse for her presence as quickly as possible.

"I am sorry, milords. I am Queen Anora's handmaiden, Erina and she sent me to relay a message of her imprisonment by Arl Howe."

The young elf's eyes briefly cast downwards, as if trying to think of what to say next, before finally glancing up at both Alistair and Hadrian. She was quite pretty indeed; of course, all men found female elves pretty to look at. Her brown hair was kept in a tidy bun, thus allowing her face to appear fuller, with dark brown eyes and a small pointed nose occupying what space was left by her cheeks and small forehead. The curves of her body were accentuated by her attire of Orlesian fashion-dark colours bordering lighter shades down her torso and legs. Had Erina conversed with a normal Ferelden man, she would be immediately be the centre of attention and groped upon as well. However, her form, while certainly attractive, could never ultimately seduce the two men and Erina's awareness of that showed in how quickly but clearly she tried to explain the Queen's situation.

Hadrian's fists clenched even tighter at the unfortunate news and while his heart urged him to investigate the reason why Fergus hadn't appeared yet, logic and reason broke through when he realized that Queen Anora's plight, should it be ignored, could no doubt be a major political blunder for both him and Alistair. Also, the mere mention of Arl Howe being personally responsible for his imprisonment cemented his decision on rescuing the Queen, no matter if it sounded exactly like a trap.

Once Erina had given them the message, the handmaiden was escorted out of the estate by a guard and it was only then that the others finally gave their opinions on the matter.

"It is a trap; of that I have no doubt," Leliana spoke out and the redhaired archer sighed heavily. She had hoped for a quick respite from all the traveling the party had done just to get to Arl Eamon's estate.

"I know it's a trap," Hadrian replied and his hand squeezed Alistair's shoulder. The blonde man nodded and the other three members could only wonder what the two could be communicating in their silent world.

"Leliana, Wynne, Alistair and I are going to rescue the Queen," Hadrian voiced out his objective to the Arl. "The worst case scenario is that we're all going to be imprisoned and be implicated in Queen Anora's plight. However, it would also show to the general populace that our opposition has qualms about putting a Theirin on the throne as well."

"Are you quite sure about this plan of action of yours?" Arl Eamon's genuine concern touched Hadrian, who just shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"Right about now, the only thing I'm sure is that Arl Howe's head will be on a stick at the end of all this," Hadrian casually said and the tall warrior bowed respectfully to Arl Eamon before taking his leave, his companions marching right behind him without any commands from their leader.

"I sincerely hope you're right," Arl Eamon muttered quietly to himself, "or imprisonment will be the least of your worries."

-o0o-

Unbearable agony was what woke him up from the smothering darkness of unconsciousness. Shrieks and screams drummed effortlessly against his eardrums followed by a quiet whisper that spoke harshly to him.

"Wake up."

Ice-cold water splashed against his face and chest, shocking him from his stupor only to have him open his swollen eyes.

There, standing in front of him, was the man who was solely responsible for his family's downfall and subsequent murder.

"Rendon Howe," he spat out the name only to receive a fierce backhand from the man himself.

"You shall address me as Arl Howe of Highever, of Denerim," the man sneered and he gave another bloodletting slap to the prisoner's face. "Yes, your defiance is still there in those despicable eyes of yours. Eyes of a wolf that doesn't know it's about to die. Just like your father and mother."

"We...we trusted you..." Fergus managed to say, "despite our instincts telling us not to."

"Ah yes, your instincts. I am curious as to how your family gained these preternatural qualities. They're inhuman, beastly, and certainly not worthy of the title of Highever. Your line has long been cursed, even before the family's near slaughter by King Arland's order. Have you ever wondered why I killed your parents?"

Fergus refused to listen to the man's hissing voice but at the same time he had wanted to know the reason behind Howe's deplorable actions.

"Because that castle guards something that could be the key to winning the war against the Blight, even Orlais itself. It whispers to me, hounds my sleep with its incessant suggestions of victory against my enemies. The only way to shut it out is to obey its wishes. Of course, the resentment of your family's successes need not have been driven by this shadow. I hated your father long before I discovered her and thus it was not necessary for her seduction of myself.

"Thus, I sought out the need to capture Highever but even with the capture of it, with the effortless slaying of your parents, they had all but disappeared, taking their precious blood and organs with them. The dead can't walk and the only way I can obtain Cousland blood is to capture you or your brother, which was a farce.

"And yet, it is ironic to see the same person who failed in his mission to capture Hadrian had become successful in leading my men to capture you at long last. What was his name? Ah yes, Zevran. It's a shame that he is not here with you but rather getting heavily involved with the guards."

The implication behind Howe's words enraged Fergus and he attempted to lash out at the Arl who simply laughed, apparently amused by his captive's weak retribution. The Arl Howe merely kicked the bound Cousland in the centre of his chest, knocking Fergus back into the harsh stone wall and having him gasp for breath.

"I was told to wait until the next full moon to fully drain you of all that corrupted blood inside of you." Howe whispered to him, thin lips a mere breadth away from his ear, "But right now, that bitch isn't here to stop me from finishing off the last scions of the Cousland family."

With that said, the only sound coming from the special prison of where Fergus was held, was the prisoner's screams, echoed by howls of agony that chilled even the most stoic of the guards posted at the prison cell's entrance.

The howls pounded throughout the entire prison and the guards themselves unwittingly prayed to the Maker to make it stop. Their prayers was answered in the most unlikely form-another guard bearing a message addressed to Arl Howe personally.

"Milord, we've news of intruders into the prison as well as the other prisoners having escaped from their cells."

The tortured screams suddenly stopped and the messenger wondered if perhaps whoever the unfortunate soul was had thankfully died and escaped Howe's insidious clutches. However, low soft moans drifted through the air and Howe stepped forward, his hands crimson and sticky. The Arl Howe casually wiped the blood off using the messenger's own tunic even as his other hand dragged a clean dagger across the poor man's throat. Coal eyes stared coldly at the dying man before regarding the dark entrance.

"Alert my personal entourage. These intruders will soon join my poor guest. After all, misery loves company."

The guards quickly obeyed him as the pair walked briskly to alert Howe's mages and two other mercenaries, not wanting to meet the same fate as the messenger for their idleness. The exigency of the intrusion blinded all to the dark shadow that hid behind the door of another room and it moved quickly into the almost vacant room.

A pained sound escaped the shadow at the sight of the limp figure hanging from its chains, the arms outstretched so painfully that the new visitor wondered how the shoulders were simply not pulled out of their sockets. However, knowing that time was of the essence before more guards would be posted outside, the visitor quickly pulled out a small metal pin from his blonde hair and slipped it inside the manacles, smiling at how easily it clicked into place. Once the hand was free, he gently clasped the unconscious prisoner around the waist to bear the weight before doing the same thing to the other hand.

Fergus moaned and it was quietened by a gentle press of lips against his.

"Sshh, mi amor. I've got you," the visitor said and he cradled his lover against his chest, allowing his other hand free to snatch a small vial from a pouch as well as a small injury kit. "We must hurry, however, before your host reappears and continues his torment of you, yes?"

"...Zev..." Fergus opened his eyes and the hurt behind them pulled at Zevran's heart. However, now was not the time nor place to convince Fergus that Zevran was indeed here and not simply a hallucination brought about by his torture. Instead, Zevran dressed Fergus' wound, ignoring the agonized hiss, as quickly and gently as possible before lifting the heavier man up and draping his left shoulder across his own. Fergus was a heavy man and it took all of the elf's willpower to not stagger underneath the extra weight. Thankfully, with Fergus slightly conscious and thus supporting his own weight as best as he could, Zevran managed to keep them both upright, at least enough to drag him out of the torture chamber and into the next room where he hid previously. Before he closed the door, however, he marked it with a simple scratch from his dagger for he knew that Hadrian's keen sense of smell would eventually lead him and his party to this particular door. All the assassin could now hope for was for them to find the pair before Howe and that Fergus can be seen by Wynne soon.

-TBC-

A/N: Yes, I'm still alive but also expecting a baby girl. There's just so much work to be done outside this story and a few others too but hopefully the story will be finished before DA3 comes out.

So, since we're almost done with this story, I welcome any comments, especially regarding a possible sequel, and would love to hear from you all soon! Many thanks to those who still review this long epic and all questions will be answered soon! :D