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allisondraste · 5 years ago

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Temperance (33/42)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary: Nathaniel wishes it took longer to return to Vigil’s Keep.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Fereldan Countryside, 9:31 Dragon

Nathaniel sat across the campfire from Liss, pretending not to notice when she glanced up from her book to eye him sharply. As she read, she turned each page with an exaggerated amount of force and pointedness, a display of irritation that was much less subtle than she likely believed. She might as well have torn out the pages, wadded them into little balls and tossed them at his head. In fact, if she had lobbed the whole book at him, he wouldn’t have been surprised. He probably wouldn’t have even tried to dodge.

They had not spoken since that morning, when Nathaniel had taken it upon himself to drive a wedge into yet another of his relationships, just as he’d done with Lucia the night before. He knew it wasn’t his place to tell Liss what she should and shouldn’t do, and he was frustrated with his complete inability to let it go. If she wanted to become a Grey Warden, then she should. However, the thought terrified him, and he’d let his fear get the better of him. Now, despite sitting just feet from her, he’d never felt further away.

The four of them had decided to break the day long trip to Amaranthine into two, less exhausting halves, and thus set up camp on the road from Denerim. The camp was painfully quiet, tension hanging like smoke in the air, suffocating and oppressive. With Liss preoccupied by her pointed, passive-aggressive reading in Nathaniel’s direction, and Lucia gazing absently into the fire, Alistair’s discomfort was obvious. He sat on the ground, craning his head around and darting his eyes in every direction, plucking at hardy weeds that shot up through the frozen soil, and fidgeting endlessly. At one point he emptied out the entirety of the contents of his pack, and put each item back in one by one. When he asked to do the same for Lucia’s and she refused, he pouted and scooted over more closely to Liss.

Peering over her arm to look at the text in her hands, he asked, “New book?”

Liss’ posture relaxed almost instantly as she turned to look at Alistair with a soft smile. “Actually, it’s an old one.” She marked her spot and closed the book turning it so that he could see the front.

Squinting, Alistair read the words. “Songs of the Pirate Queen?” He took the book from her hands and began to thumb through the pages.

“Mhmm,” she answered cheerfully, “It was one of my mother’s favorites. She had at least three copies at any given time. I think she missed the sea more than she let on.”

“What,” he asked enthusiastically, still skimming the pages, “Was your mother a pirate or something?”

Liss laughed. “Actually, yes! Well, before she married my father, that is. My grandparents weren’t too happy with the arrangement, but Papa loved her.”

Nathaniel’s chest tightened at the memory of Lady Eleanor, and the nearly inaudible waver in Liss’ voice as she spoke about her.

She continued, “You know The Soldier and the Seawolf? It’s actually about my parents.”

“Huh, I didn’t know th— oh.” Alistair’s eyes widened and his entire face flushed as he slammed Liss’ book shut. He stiffened and looked out into the fire.

Liss giggled and brought her hand to her mouth, a gesture she often used when she was attempting to hide her amusement. “I’m so sorry. I should have warned you that it explores some… mature themes. It’s very tasteful, I swear.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Alistair spluttered, fumbling around with his words, “Er, I mean, I’m fine. It’s just.” He waved his hands vaguely and cleared his throat before sighing and handing her the book back, placing it gingerly onto her lap as if it might bite him.

For the first time during the exchange, Lucia looked up, smile spreading across her lips as she studied Alistair affectionately, face brightening in a way Nathaniel had never seen. She looked at Liss and spoke. “Alistair’s favorite book is The Ugly Nugling, if that tells you anything.”

“It’s a classic,” Alistair stated proudly, “And it has the most lovely message.”

“Which is?” Lucia raised her eyebrows.

“Even if you have beady eyes and creepy little hand…feet… things, you still have value.”

“And did that help you in your formative years as a nug,” Nathaniel asked suddenly, surprising himself.

Alistair laughed. “Yes, come to think of it. It did help me through a rather rough spot when the other nugs wouldn’t let me join their nug games.”

Nathaniel snorted, and glanced reflexively in Liss’ direction. She was still laughing, bright smile painted across her face. Then their eyes met, her smile fading as she looked away. His chest tightened until she looked at him again, eyes full of amusement and sparkling in the firelight. No doubt she was fighting a desperate battle to keep the smile from returning to her face, a battle she seemed to be losing if the smirk twitching at her lips was any evidence. Though he knew she was still angry with him, that he would still need to find some way to make amends, the brief, shared moment was a relief that he had not done as much damage as he previously thought.

Conversation came more easily after that, a thin veil of humor and lightheartedness to hide the angry bronto in the room until the sun settled beneath the horizon and stars twinkled brightly. Liss was the first to doze off, open book face down on the ground beside her. Even with two heavy blankets wrapped around her, she still looked cold and uncomfortable. For someone so distinctly Fereldan, she’d never appreciated cold weather, and he knew she must be miserable. Several feet beside her, Alistair had fallen asleep,too, his head on Lucia’s lap as she looked down at him fondly, raking gentle fingers through his hair. Nathaniel envied their contentment even though he knew there was immense pain buried deep beneath the surface. He envied the ease with which they settled back into one another. If he’d only kept his temper at bay, his opinions to himself then maybe he and Liss could have been… something already. Maybe he would have been allowed to at least explain why he hadn’t written to her. He let his gaze wander back over to Liss, watching as her body rose and fell with each breath. They’d been so close just a day ago. How had it all gone so wrong?

“She’s been through a lot, hasn’t she?” Lucia’s quiet voice startled him, and he turned to look at her. She was watching Liss as he had been, brows knitted.

Nathaniel sighed heavily, taking a moment before answering to quell the unwelcome tears burning behind his eyes. “She has.”

Lucia fell silent for a moment, took a deep breath, and spoke again. “I am sorry if I have caused strife between you two.”

“You—“ Nathaniel cleared his throat, “You haven’t.” He needed to say more, to apologize to her for how he’d treated her, but he froze and the words escaped him.

Luckily, she continued. “Alistair wasn’t too happy with my decision to recruit her either. He said that she was not in a good place to make that kind of choice.”

“He’s right. I think it’s a mistake,” he said, bluntly and Lucia flinched, “But it’s hers to make, and I apologize for acting as if you are responsible.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Liss is stubborn and difficult to refuse,” Nathaniel assured her, “Even if you were responsible, it wouldn’t discount the need for an apology. I was out of line.”

“It’s okay, Nate,” Lucia said, dropping her standard formality to use his shortened name. She looked back down at Alistair, as she traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. “I understand why you might want to protect her from what we are.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, looking away from her. He didn’t know what else to say or do. Again, she had proven herself wise beyond her years, and he was ashamed.

The rest of the night passed without event. It also passed without a wink of sleep for Nathaniel— not that he’d even tried— and the remainder of the trip to Amaranthine had flown by quickly, too quickly. It would not have bothered him had their journey been halted by bandits or a pack of hungry wolves. Anything to delay Liss’ inevitable joining and what that meant one way or another. He hardly spoke, only because everything he wanted to say would be the wrong thing. So he bit his tongue until he thought it might bleed as he always had.

When they arrived at Vigil’s Keep, the relative peace and quiet startled Nathaniel. It was a shift from the hustle and bustle of Denerim, and he’d almost forgotten how few people there truly were in such a large space, even after just a few days. As they entered the large, vacant area that was the main hall, he noticed Liss glancing at him from the corner of his eye, no doubt curious at his reaction to his childhood home, the place she’s seen him off to at the end of each summer. If he were honest, it still made him nervous, as if his angry father would be waiting around every corner to welcome him home with a barrage of insults. Of course, his father was dead, and that wouldn’t happen. Never again.

“Well slap my ass and call me a nug’s uncle,” boomed Oghren as he approached, rather swiftly for the stocky dwarf, “If it isn’t my favorite little pike twirler.” He reached up and punched Alistair playfully in the abdomen.

Alistair flinched, but laughed and gave Oghren a shove. “I suppose there is no talking you out of that nickname, huh?”

“Not a chance,” Oghren said proudly, puffing out his chest. “Guess you heard I’m a Warden now.”

“I did. Glad to have you among our ranks, Ser Dwarf.”

“Well, shit,” Oghren muttered. Nathaniel swore he saw a glimmer of tears in Oghren’s eyes as he and Alistair shared the Warden salute.

It wasn’t long before the others arrived to the main hall, with the exception of Justice, who’d been exceptionally quiet and reclusive since The Mother’s defeat. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Kristoff’s body had begun to decay beyond use. In any event, Anders and Sigrun appeared as their typically enthusiastic selves, Velanna trailing behind with her arms crossed over her chest and a standard scowl painted on her face. Guilt bubbled in Nathaniel’s chest at the thought of parading Liss around in front of her. Velanna had been more than understanding, but this would most likely be an insult to injury.

Without wasting any time, Anders approached Liss. “Hello, my lady. I’m Anders. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Liss blinked and her face reddened, clearly flustered. “My name is Elissa, and the pleasure is mine.”

“A charming name for a charming gi—“ Anders yelped as Velanna elbowed him in the rib cage. “What did I do this time?”

Instead of answering Anders, Velanna looked at Liss. “Andaran atish’an, Elissa. I am Velanna.”

“And I’m Sigrun!”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Liss said politely, “You can call me Liss, by the way. I prefer it. I’m just so accustomed to giving my full name.”

“You’re the Cousland girl, aren’t you?” Oghren had stopped teasing Alistair and chimed in.

“I am.”

“I’m sorry about your family,” he said in an unexpected display of social appropriateness. “It’s a damn shame.”

“Thank you,” Liss mumbled, clearly unsure what to say. She could not have planned for so many people outside of the nobility, and especially outside of Highever to care about what happened to her family.

“Elissa,” Lucia shouted. She’d been away from the group speaking with Seneschal Garevel.

Liss turned abruptly. “Yes, Warden-Commander?”

“Can you come with me for a moment? We have some matters to discuss before this evening.”

As if it were an instinct, she looked to Nathaniel who nodded at her, and then she answered Lucia. “Sure.”

Liss, Lucia, and Garevel exited the hall, and Alistair remained standing awkwardly, kicking at the floor with his boot, as if he were avoiding eye contact with a pack of wolves. Oghren introduced him to everyone as an old friend and comrade, and he seemed to ease up when they did not devour him whole. Tense and growing increasingly anxious as minutes passed by, Nathaniel separated from the others and paced around the hall before settling on a spot to stand, right next to his mother’s portrait. It seemed they had decided not to take it down after all.

“You’re especially talkative today,” chirped a familiar voice from behind him. He turned to see Anders leaning against a bookshelf and grinning.

“What can I say,” Nathaniel answered with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “I just have so many things to say.”

“Ouch. Touchy, are we?” Anders moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the new recruit who you kept gazing at longingly, would it?”

“I was not gazing at her longingly,” he snapped.

“Yeah, and I’m a Templar,” Anders replied, eyeing him pointedly, “Oh, wait. You mean we aren’t trying to see who can tell the most outrageous lie?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m stunned, truly.” The mage rolled his eyes, and waved his hand flippantly.

“Are we talking about Nate’s lover?” Sigrun had appeared as if out of nowhere and Anders jumped.

“ Lover? ” Anders’ face lit up with mischief.

“She’s not—“ Nathaniel attempted helplessly.

“She is why you went to Denerim, is she not?” Velanna had approached as well, an utter betrayal.

“I—“

“Knock it off,” Oghren scolded as he joined the fray, pushing past Anders and Sigrun. Nathaniel had never been more relieved to see the dwarf. “Let the boy think about his pretty Cousland girl in peace won’t ya?”

Oghren elbowed him and cackled, clearly not his calvary after all. Nathaniel supposed that it if he was to have friends, he had to endure a bit of fun at his expense every once in a while. This was simply the worst time, the worst place, and he was not remotely in the mood to entertain it. Just as he opened his mouth to tell them all to get off his arse, someone cleared their throat from behind the group and everyone turned to look at Alistair who stood several feet away, waving and smiling sheepishly.

“Hey, uh, Nathaniel,” he said, motioning toward the hall with his thumb, “I think Luc— er, the commander wants to talk to you.”

Nathaniel frowned, unsure what Lucia would need to talk to him about, but he welcomed the excuse to escape the friendly mob. He nodded and followed Alistair down the hallway at the back of the room, the same that Lucia and the others had left through just moments before.

“Do you know why the commander needs to speak with me?”

Alistair laughed and stopped walking. “She doesn’t.”

Nathaniel blinked a few times. “Oh.”

“They were just a few pitchforks short of a mob,” the other man explained, chuckling and leaning against the wall, “Consider this your daring rescue.”

Nathaniel smirked. “It’s odd. I always thought knights in shining armor had magnificent white steeds.”

“Oh...that. You see, I have this thing where I fall off horses.” Alistair shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint.”

They shared a laugh, and then Nathaniel clapped him on the shoulder. “In all seriousness. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Alistair looked down the hallway in one direction and then back down the other. “Full disclosure: I have no idea where I’m going. Is there another way out of this hallway or did I just trap us here? Because that would definitely be something that I would do.”

Shaking his head, Nathaniel began walking down the hall, away from the main room where his friends no doubt waited for him to emerge, motioning for Alistair to follow after him. Luckily, Vigil’s Keep was rather circular in design. They passed the door that led to the seneschal’s office, where Lucia and Liss most likely were, turned a corner, and went up several flights of stairs until they reached a door that led outside to the battlements. He opened the door and stepped outside, Alistair close behind. It was cooler than it had been when they’d arrived, and the sky was overcast with clouds that threatened to break open at any moment.

“Perfect weather for a Joining,” Alistair remarked.

“You don’t say,” Nathaniel answered tersely.

They shared a moment of heavy silence, as they continued walking. Then, Nathaniel spoke. “I apologize for being rude to you before. I have not been at my best these past few days.”

“Yeah, well.” Alistair looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. He straightened up and flashed an embarrassed grin.“Neither have I.”

So much had transpired in such a short span of time, it took Nathaniel a moment to realize he was referring to the kiss. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he didn’t really know what to say. It was not something he really felt entitled to an opinion about, although he certainly had one.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Alistair said somberly, walking toward the parapet before them and leaning over. “I didn’t mean to, um, get in the way of anything.”

“You didn’t,” Nathaniel sighed and moved the stand beside him. “This is all on me.”

“I am worried about her too,” Alistair said, “We all get a little reckless when we’re afraid.”

“She’s afraid? That’s not why she told me she decided to join.”

“It’s not what she’s told anyone. She’ll say it’s because she’s always wanted to be a Grey Warden or that she’s looking for a new purpose, or some other romantic, Liss-like explanation for her decision.” Alistair stared vacantly out over the keep. “And those are all probably true, but the real reason she’s doing it is because she’s terrified.”

“Of what?” Nathaniel was ashamed that he’d known Liss his entire life and couldn’t answer the question for himself.

“Being alone.”

“Pardon my skepticism, but how do you know?”

Alistair turned and looked at him, bitter smile spreading across his lips. “We have a lot in common, Liss and I.”

“I see.”

“I think that’s why things happened the way they did...not that it’s an excuse or anything.”

Nathaniel nodded absently, more than a little frustrated that he hadn’t seen it himself. Of course Liss was scared of being alone, Liss who had never been without her family, who lost almost everyone she loved in one night and who blamed herself for it, who spent a year on her own, scraping and struggling to get to the capitol. She had finally achieved some sense of stability in Denerim with the council, and with Alistair’s friendship, and then those, too, began to fade. Why had he not seen that? Had he realized, their conversation the day before would have gone so much differently. Much less trying to talk her out of it, much more assuring her that she wouldn’t be alone, no matter her choice. He wished with every ounce of himself he hadn’t jumped to conclusions.

Then, maybe there was still time. Pushing off from the parapet, he turned abruptly to head back inside the castle. Alistair eyed him with confusion. “Wait. Where are you going?

“I have to talk to Liss,” Nathaniel stated sharply, “Now.”

Note: The book Liss is reading is actually the title of a really wonderful hawkebela fanfic that I couldn’t recommend more highly! ;D

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #temperance #update #my writing

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pharlooom · 7 years ago

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my opinions on cullen rutherford

over the past few days, I’ve gotten a some anonymous asks requesting me to explain what I think of cullen rutherford, because if you’ve noticed, I’ve been posting a lot of cullen content right now. I feel this is a great time to share my feelings about him and the Discourse around him, also what I think about various opinions this toxic, toxic fanbase has about him.

feel free to add, praise, disagree, or completely obliterate me for this in reblogs or replies. these are my opinions, some gotten from others, some crafted from my own readings and personal views. hate cullen or like him, say what you will, but if you respect my opinions, I will respect yours.

short version: I like cullen. I like his character. I genuinely appreciate his character growth and development and his change.

long version: from what I know and what I’ve read, this fandom likes to tear him to bits for a bunch of reasons, some of which are so vast and really heavy, I don’t know if I can go into them with enough knowledge of the lore. so it’s neat, I’ll state my opinion and then discuss it.

his abuse at the circle in dao explains his trauma, it doesn’t excuse his absolute shit treatment of mages

yep, I know the whole cullen “mages aren’t people” rutherford is only one of like 273 hearts of the #cullen critical community, but it’s the one people tend to address the most.

but his torture at ferelden’s circle doesn’t excuse his actions, it explains why he hates mages. I don’t know where cullen haters get the idea that the stans only use this as an excuse so their White Chantry Boy can be free to shit on mages wherever he pleases. no. he doesn’t have an excuse. he doesn’t have a get out of jail free card. in da2, his position of knight-captain and shitty treatment of mages is explained by the fact that he suffered a bad experience from them. you can’t just dismiss this. it’s an important part of his character as a whole and seeing haters say that “people use it as justification” is wrong.

and to stans who say that he’s free to hate mages because of this, stop that (though I haven’t seen this yet, I’m sure it’s happening somewhere).

he hates mages because he was traumatized by what happened in ferelden’s circle. that’s an explanation, not a justification. see? that isn’t the same as “it’s okay for him to hate mages because he was traumatized by what happened in ferelden’s circle.”

he was a shit person in da2

there is literally no saving him from this. I won’t come to his rescue or shield him from the criticism, he was terrible.

but, while I’m still on the subject, refer to the first opinion. I feel some people forget his abuse that happened in the prior game. so if you must hate him, hate him with his abuse in mind. hate him for the right reasons. hate that he was in a position to do something but didn’t, that “mages aren’t people” line. understand where he comes from, what he’s been through, then feel free to criticize him in the #cullen critical tag like a person with a clear and open mind.

he joined the templars because he wanted to help people

sometimes we forget that cullen joined the templars because he thought that at the age of thirteen, the templars were helping. this doesn’t excuse his actions later, but the very reason he joined the templars in the first place was because he wanted to help. he didn’t go into the order thinking “all mages r eveil.” when asked why he joined the order, he literally said: “I can think of no better calling than to protect those in need.”

and yes, I know that mages are coded (?) as oppressed people irl. but you have to understand that though they suffer the same oppression, mages and oppressed people irl are vastly different. irl, there’s less of a reason to stand with the oppressors because we’re all human beings with the same capabilities. in thedas, there really is a reason to be afraid of mages when they can literally raise the dead or summon fire at their fingertips. even if they can gain control of these abilities, they are dangerous. there’s a reason why circles had to be built. some circles are chill, and others are horribly abusive. still, you have to understand the validated fear behind thedas looking down on mages.

I don’t understand how him not acting on his affections on the warden or whatever is creepy???

I honest to goodness don’t get this. if you flirt with him too much, he even runs in the opposite direction. people have infatuations that can last for many years, sure, but it happens. people like people for a long time. and it’s not like hof is on his mind 24/7. all I can think of is when you ask him about how he knew her in dai, and that table banter with leliana where he asks about her, but that’s it??? that’s all I can think of??

I’m satisfied with his character development in dai

no, I don’t want him to apologize more than he already is. no, I don’t want the option to oust him from the inquisition. no, I don’t want the inquisitor to be given the option to shit on him, romance or not. no, I don’t want to give him all the ugly missions at the table because he’s an ugly adviser. no, I don’t want hawke or varric to call him out.

he’s growing, he’s changing. he realizes he’s a shit person, remembers all of the horrible things he’s done, and wants to better himself. I don’t give a shit about “how fast and ooc” it is for a character to change, I am all for positive character development. (I know this argument can and will be used against me. I have longer opinions about this positive character development deal, but for now, know I’m all for it.)

go back to dai and talk to him. just really listen to him. he isn’t even justifying his actions. he constantly says that all the shit he did is bad, scolding himself when he felt like he could have done better. and even when he’s explaining the events, like what happened at ferelden’s circle, he uses it to explain why he was an awful person in kirkwall.

I also see the argument that he distrusts the mages in inquisition, but I don’t see that. and even if he “does,” it’s out of concern for both mages and non-mages. not to mention that he’s left the templars, which has basically been his life for more than a decade, so it isn’t easy for him to just let go of it and instantly say “I trust mages with my life” because you really see the worst of what magic can do in the circles, and he’s been living in them for most of his life. I mean, just look at how hard it was for him to conquer his addiction, the very thing that chained him to the templars and the chantry. he isn’t hostile to any of the mages there, you don’t even see him scolding them or berating them (this only happens once, when he breaks apart an argument between a mage and templar at haven, and even then he also takes the time to scold the templar as well and say that this isn’t the place to do that). he doesn’t seem to mind the presence of vivienne or solas. hell, he plays chess with dorian. still sound like cullen “mages aren’t people” rutherford to you?

there’s a number of times he also says that he left the order because innocent people were getting caught in the crossfires between mages and templars. it was the exact opposite thing he wanted to prevent going into the order. he wanted people to be safe, and because of the templars, people ended up dying. it isn’t hard to understand why he left.

and he left. that’s a thing, by the way. he could have stayed and just accepted the fact that he wanted this life as a child, but he left the templars knowing full well that at that point, it had been his whole life. also, he left with the knowledge that leaving the order can be straight-up insanity or death due to lyrium withdrawal. he even talks about how dangerous it is for a templar to leave and how he wants a safer way to leave the order. I really feel that was the highest point of his character: he knew leaving the order (which was a huge part of his life) was difficult, could risk death, and had to suffer major effects from withdrawal. despite that, he still did it. at the ending of trespasser, he even helps other templars conquer their addiction. you may not like his character, but you can’t deny that’s still considerably noble.

and this is where it gets personal: I’ve done shitty things in my life. I’ve said some terrible stuff to people that I can’t take back, no matter how hard I want to. mentally, I’ve shunned and hated a whole community because they were attacking me in ways that destroyed me and my mental health, and I’ve held onto that grudge for so long. I wanted to change, I wanted to be a better person, not one consumed by hatred.

when I first played dai and talked to cullen about his opinions on mages and how he wanted to break free from the order, I bawled like a baby. I cried the whole way through the lyrium addiction mission. I saw myself in his character: somebody who did a fuckton of awful things in his past and wanted to get out of it. he inspired me to be braver, to be a better version of myself, that getting out of a cycle of hating yourself and other people is possible. you can change and it’s worth it.

and that’s why whenever I read cullen hate bashing his character development and how he should “apologize more” and how he’ll never be enough or never be forgiven, no matter how hard he tries to atone for it, it always gets to me. every time people hate his character, I feel like they’ll hate people like me, people who are bad and will always be bad and can’t improve ever because they were awful before, they’ll be awful forever.

TL;DR: cullen is an amazing character. his growth and backstory speaks volumes to me. I respect and look up to him in ways that this entire thing can’t do justice. while he’s done some terrible things in the past, he isn’t good, but he isn’t bad either. I admire him for what he is now, and how he’ll continue to grow in the lore to come.

again, this is only my opinion. you are free to disagree and agree at your own leisure. hate him, don’t hate him, whatever, I respect your opinion. you’re coming from a different point of view and I absolutely love that. all I ask is that you respect my opinion in return.

#cullen rutherford #but mostly #cullen positive #because majority of this is me liking his character #he's great and he's earned a spot in my heart #honestly you are free to hate him because i understand from where people hate him #i do get why he's a hate-able character #but at least let me say all of this #for my favorite character and for those who think he's a favorite as well #and also for my catharsis #it feels good to let that out #i've been bottling all of this for quite some time now #dragon age boyfriend #still is tho

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childrenofthedas-a · 4 years ago

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THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat. Long post!

MUN NAME: JINN AGE: 21 CONTACT: IM, Discord

CHARACTER(S): Mahariel, Tabris (HoF), Lavellan, Trevelyan (Inquisitors), 4 OCs.

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Dragon Age

FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR: I don’t have any yet for the moment!

MY LANGUAGE(S): Italian (native), English (proficiency), French (Intermediate)

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / SCIENCE FICTION / HORROR / WESTERN / ROMANCE / THRILLER / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / EROTIC / CRIME / MYTHOLOGY / CLASSIC / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / ANCIENT / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / SPORT / MUSIC / SCIENCE / FIGHTS / ANGST / SMUT / DRAMA / ETC.

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: 2 PARA / NOVELLA

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / ANONS

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?: YES / NO / OCCASIONALLY - only by Mutuals?: YES / NO

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / CASUAL / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK. / ALL

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?: YES / NO / DEPENDS

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. (college)

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?: YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. (irl makes coping difficult sometimes)

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ WEEKS / MONTHS / YEARS.

I’M OKAY INTERACTING WITH: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / A RELATIVE OF MY CHARACTER (AN OC) / DUPLICATES / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / SELF-INSERTS / PEOPLE WITH NO AU VERSE FOR MY FANDOM / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS(ish)

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC / BOTH IN A BALANCE

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING: Honestly? Come up to me and talk! I swear I’m friendly and don’t bite. I’m not particularly shy so I am the one writing first at times.

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER: Just honesty and mutual respect. I like to throw ideas and memes at plotting partners, and I will acknowledge if someone isn’t into a particular idea. I like having the same :)

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?: Usually I write to the partner for new ideas, maybe to spice up the thread a bit.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?: I often throw as many ideas into the story as I can, I don’t mind if some of the ideas that land are mostly mine but I like the concept of two people throwing ideas around, given that there’s the same interest in the plot!

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. - AND WHY?: I don’t mind if people drop one liners. They’re supposed to be casual and entertaining to a point. Ih the thread in question is a plotted one, I don’t mind if the other wishes to drop it — just let me know!

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?: I usually never drop threads intentionally, it’s mostly due to... the drafts nightmare that this website has. However, I may drop casual threads. Rarely plotted ones, and in that case it might be because of lack of time.

WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO. - AND WHY?: It’s nice to get to know the person you’re plotting with. Sometimes I forget to reply to messages, but I enjoy talking with other people on Discord, even if it can be brief. Communication at any level keeps a point of understanding for the plot as well.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: Naturally, as long as it’s constructive. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept every critique I will eventually get, since writing is what I do for my job. Given that this site is a guilty pleasure and only that, I use trophies / cliches / repetition in some characters / backgrounds, because it’s fun. So there’s not a high level of seriousness on my part here, honestly.

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: I love stories, I love writing. It’s something to keep me in training with english and writing in general. Keeps my mind active.

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS: I will eventually make a wishlist post for each and everyone of my characters. Though the ones that would be more interesting, for the moment, would be an arc for Milot in which he grows a bit from the idiot bigot child he is while getting some recognition for his abilities an arc for Feirun who has trust issues and would simply like to feel like she belongs somewhere, thus indulging in friendships — and an arc for Dianor regarding the Calling, to see where it could lead, whether to the finding of a cure or to his death.

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE: There aren’t specific themes I will never explore, but some themes, however, like suicide, I’d be willing to explore if done with taste and regard to others and with a person who would be willing to explore it with me. I’m about realism, and given that some themes are a bit heavy for me as well I always do it in a manner that does not diminish neither the theme nor the person involved with it.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: I can usually work with anything, but one liners that feel empty in attempt are usually really frustrating.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?: Going for the cliches: innocent young ones, honor-bound ones and villains. I don’t have much of a preference but these tend to be more fun for me.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?: Self-inserts that claim to be self-inserts and that end up being straight up mary sues. I like self-inserts when portrayed naturally and truthfully, even if it’s the type of character that doesn’t catch my eye at first.

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I’m very laid back and I’m patient. Given that I actually spent a lot of my time on this site and know the kinds of people wandering these halls, I know who to avoid in case of senseless drama and how to handle it if directed at me or at my rp partners. I would also like to add feel lucky to have met people who are the same on this site.

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: It can often be consistency. I can be really pumped up for a plot, then be extremely slow in replying to threads. Right now it’s mostly due to the fact that all of these muses are new and I have to think about what they’d say and do. An initial idea shared with a rp partner, too, might fall apart the moment I realise that it couldn’t work with my muse for the same reason.

DO YOU RP SMUT?: YES / NO / DEPENDS on the character I’m writing. It has to make sense for the muse; if my current muses are, for example, Dianor, Vincent or Lottie, they have a higher chance of being open to smut. Others need an emotional connection or very specific requirements. I’m not against it entirely, though I’m terrible at writing it.

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN, FADE TO BLACK?: YES / NO.

WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?: Again, depends on the muse.

ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?: As said above, I’m open for most “unpopular” themes, if treated with regard and taste. Big nopes are themes like animal abuse or child abuse.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?: YES / NO. Ships can be of any kind — platonic, romantic, familiar and so on. Human connection is important in stories, and to find some is always a good thing for me.

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO. I do have some ships going on but I’d still run my blog if there weren’t many. I like exploring different kinds of relationships, not just the positive ones.

DO YOU USE READ MORE?: YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU: MULTI-SHIP / SINGLE-SHIP / DUAL-SHIP — MULTIVERSE / SINGLEVERSE.

WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: I enjoy it when particular romantic ships lead to internal conflicts within my muses. For example, Feirun has 0 interpersonal skills and has never been with anyone before, therefore seeing her accepting the fact that she has feelings for someone, and growing a sense of worth that leads her to go for it, is fantastic. For Octavia, too, despite her lack of interest in sex, she can still be romantically interested in people, which happens rarely due to her difficult character; when it does happen, she tends to become a bit softer, and that’s my jam.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: Dianor is the worst warden on the website, probably, reckless and a troublemaker; he can lead to plots with adventures, theft and unexpected camaraderie. Tristan is an Inquisitor who only wishes to be strong enough to protect everyone, he can be all about love and support to other muses or create interesting conflicts. Feirun is a feral squirrel, honestly, but due to her background she can lead to interesting plots tied with Tevinter or the Qun. Milot is a young soldier who wishes to prove himself, he is often in need of guidance but he himself can teach a thing or two about being comfortable with one’s self. Vincent is a particular kind of abomination, thus it could be interesting to have him interact with other mages / templars / really, anyone who has a problem with demons. Lottie is an orlesian spy and a functional psychopath, it can lead to many interesting plots with a large variety of characters. Octavia could be one of the most interesting ones given her background, since the actions of whoever surrounds her in the Inquisition could lead her to find actual morals and discover emotional intelligence rather than having her stay the same person she was before.

WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?: Characters who see everything in black and white.

WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, WHAT IS THEIR GOAL?: Dianor just wants to find a cure for the calling and live freely. Tristan thinks he wants to save everyone, but he really needs people who help him overcome his own issues. Feirun wants somewhere to belong, people to be close with, having been alone for most of her life. Milot wants to become a knight and be treated like the other soldiers, without the special treatment he often gets due to his age. Lottie just wants money, I think. Vincent wants to either find a way to get the demon out of his body or die. Octavia would like to take revenge on her father and go back to Tevinter, but she might need some emotional guidance at first.

WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?: Dianor gets along with other rogues. Tristan is like a dog, happy to see anyone. Feirun has a particular interest for the Qunari. Milot greatly regards knights and people in power who show honor and integrity. Octavia likes people who do their job and are unapologetic about it. Lottie enjoys meeting any kind of character that she could get something out of. Vincent is often very happy to see other mages and men, honestly.

WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?: Dianor likes to tell stories of any kind. Tristan enjoys talking about plans for the Inquisition. Feirun likes to talk about lore, archeological finds, books and magic. Milot... likes to talk about battles, I guess. Lottie enjoys discussing Orlais fashion. Octavia loves discussing magic, blood magic specifically. Vincent likes to discuss art.

DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?: Dianor lost his best friend Tamlen and had to save Thedas, now the Calling is killing him from the inside. Tristan couldn’t save a clan of dalish elves being attacked by a Teyrn. Feirun was abandoned by the dalish when she was 8 and was beaten and hunted by Templars for a while. Octavia discovered she was an half-elf and fruit of scandal and went on the run for it. Vincent was friends with a spirit who turned into a demon while saving his life from templars. Milot saw his farm, his home being destroyed by battles between mages, templars and demons. Lottie... once wore bad shoes?

WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?: Darkspawn for everyone. Mages for Milot. Templars for Feirun and Vincent.

IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?: Darkspawn. Mages in general for Milot, he’s really afraid of them and would not hesitate to bring them down in battle. Feirun and Vincent detest the Templars due to the abuse they’ve faced because of them.

ARE YOUR MUSES EASY TO APPROACH?: Dianor, Tristan and Vincent are the easiest ones to approach. The others can be... difficult to handle at first.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSES?: I apologise for some of them being sluts or bigots. I love them all the same.

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

tagged by: indecently stolen! tagging: anyone who actually read this i guess!

#┊♞┊jinn. ( ooc )

0 notes

allisondraste · 5 years ago

Text

Temperance 31/42

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Chapter Summary: Liss prepares to leave Denerim with the Grey Wardens.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Denerim, 9:31 Dragon

Liss awoke to the sound of rustling fabric as it feathered it’s way across the bare skin of her back and shoulders. Unable to completely blink away the drowsiness that lingered heavy in her eyes, she squinted up at the source of the movement and noise, breath hitching slightly in her throat as she realized what it was. It had to be a dream, she told herself. There was no way that Nate could be standing in her room, bringing the covers up over her. It was impossible that he looked down at her so fondly, in a way that reminded her of too many years ago. She was definitely still asleep, and this was the one good dream her mind intended to allow her.

Or perhaps it wasn’t.

“Nate,” she mumbled hoarsely, voice failing her.

“It’s me,” he whispered so softly she could hardly hear it, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair from her face. He allowed his hand to linger on her cheek, its warmth radiated from her face down into her chest. She had to will herself not to cry. “Go back to sleep. We can talk later.”

Liss brought her hand up to cover his, and smiled lazily. She didn’t want to talk later. She had waited so long, and she just wanted to talk to him that instant. Still, her body and mind protested the idea of waking any further. She was exhausted, weary, and his gentle instruction to rest was all she needed to let her eyes fall shut so that she could drift back to sleep.

It was still night when she woke again, room devoid of the warm sunlight that typically trickled in through the lone window to greet her in the mornings. It could not have been more than an hour or so since Nate had come and gone, and yet she was fully rested, as if she had slept through the entire night. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Stretching her arms above her head, Liss yawned and sat up, shivering as the blankets fell away from her bare shoulders, the chilly air falling against her skin. She rubbed her eyes and scooted out of the bed, toes touching the stone floor as she stumbled drowsily across the room to retrieve a light, linen robe that hung on a rack on the wall.

Just as she slipped the robe over her gown into which she did not recall changing, there was a quiet knock at the door. Three quick raps, and Liss moved to answer it, biting back the fear that bubbled in her chest every time she opened a door since the attack on her home a year prior. Who could possibly be there anyway? Wasn’t she supposed to be the one who bothered people in the middle of the night?

“How can I hel-” Liss began to say as she pulled open the door, blinking, “Nate?”

“Sorry if I am bothering you,” he apologized, offering her a small smile.

Suddenly self-conscious, she wrapped the robe more tightly around her waist before answering. “You’re not bothering me.” She moved out of the way so that he could enter the room. “Did I dream that you were in here earlier?”

“No,” Nate laughed, “I came to see if we could talk, but you were asleep, so I left.”

“You told me we’d talk later,” Liss said, teasing him with the edge of her words, “I didn’t realize later would be so soon.”

“I got impatient.” He smirked and met her gaze, blue eyes so intense she thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor. “We can always wait, if you’d prefer it, but-”

“No, no,” Liss blurted, words falling out of her mouth carelessly. “We can talk now. I’m sorry, I’m just half-asleep. I probably look like such a mess.” She let her face fall to one of her hands,

“You’re beautiful,” Nate remarked in an uncharacteristically bold fashion. Or was it uncharacteristic? He added, “You’re also a mess, but that’s nothing that requires an apology.” Much better.

“Buttering me up, are we,” she asked as playfully as she could, hiding the apprehension in her voice.

“Just stating the facts, my lady.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me that.”

“Is that not your title?” His voice rang so sincerely, but there was mischief on his face, so she just rolled her eyes. He laughed, there was a long, heavy pause, and then he continued. “I didn’t come here to flirt aimlessly.”

Liss swallowed hard, and straightened her posture. “Then why did you come here?”

Nate took a few cautious steps forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. Despite the chill, she was burning up, her heart pounding.

“I know you are tired of apologies, but there is one that I still owe you, if you will hear it.” He squeezed her hands and stared at her intently before continuing. “I am so sorry that I never wrote to you. I was a foolish child with my head up my own arse. I was so scared of my feelings that I ran from them for years.”

“Nate,” she stated breathlessly, eyes welling with tears.

“I am angry at myself and embarrassed that I left you hanging like that,” he explained, his own eyes appearing to water, “You told me you loved me, and I just-” He shook his head and looked away.

“Nate,” Liss hummed and freed one of her hands from his to bring it to his cheek, guiding his gaze back to her. “It’s okay. I can hardly blame you for doing what you needed to cope, even if it hurt me in the end.”

Everything was silent for a moment, just a breath, and Nate spoke again. “Could you love me again?” His question was direct, firm, eyebrows furrowing more deeply with each word.

Liss laughed, shaking her head and causing the tears to drip from her eyes. “I never stopped.”

“Good,” Nate answered, breath trembling, “I love you, too. I should have said it back then, before I left, bu-”

Liss interrupted him with a kiss. It was a brief, nearly chaste brush of her lips against his, but it got his attention, and he froze, staring at her. She bit her bottom lip and smiled at him, hoping, praying to the Maker above that he’d understand her invitation.

He did, though it did not happen quite as she would have expected. There was no rush forward, no taking her face in his hands abruptly as he crashed his lips against hers. No, in his typical Nate fashion, he moved so patiently, so gently, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. He lingered there for a moment, running his hands along her arms, over her shoulders, and up to her face. He traced her jawline with his thumbs and it took every ounce of her composure to keep from whimpering.

Then, Liss woke up.

Her heart pounded in her chest and behind her ears as she sat up abruptly, entire body tingling. Damn it, damn it, damn it . If she was going to dream about Nate, the Fade could have at least been courteous enough to let him kiss her before dragging her back to reality. They’d been so close. She’d gotten her apology, her confession, everything she’d wanted for over eight years, and it had just been her own imagination playing tricks on her. Sure, it was leaps and bounds better than her nightmares, but she had not even gotten her kiss. Some fantasy that was, waking up from an intimate moment to be alone and ridiculously frustrated. She groaned and rolled over to press her face into the pillow.

Grumbling, she sat up, vision obstructed by a heap of hair that fell directly into her face. She raked it back with her fingers before sliding out of bed. Unlike her dream, Liss was wearing the thick woolen shirt and breeches she had on the night before. She’d been so exhausted that she did not even think about changing. Sunlight trickled into the room as well, past the curtains, warming the chilly floor. How long had she slept anyway? She figured her body needed the rest. She also figured it needed a bath.

Liss milled about the room, gathering her things. A small tub sat in her room, near the fireplace, but using it required bothering the already overworked servants to fetch water and heat the coals. She could have also prepared the bath herself. She wasn’t so spoiled that she couldn’t fetch her own water and heat her own coals; however, a perfectly appropriate semi-private bathing area sat just down the hall in the guest wing. She’d used the basins there ever since she first moved into the palace, and most of the time she had the place to herself. Not that she was overly modest or anything of the sort.

Just as she collected her soaps and change of close up into her arms, a brief quiet knock rang at the door. Sighing, she answered with an annoyed, “Who is it?”

“Anora,” chimed the pretty voice from the other side of the heavy wooden door, and if it were possible to kick oneself, Liss would have done it repeatedly.

Dropping her things, she rushed to the door and pulled it open quickly, painting on the most apologetic smile she could. “Your majesty.”

“Elissa,” Anora said pleasantly, looking completely unoffended to Liss’ relief, “Do you have a moment?”

“Um. Of course,” Liss replied politely and moved out of the doorway so that the queen could enter. “What do you need, your majesty?”

“I spoke with the Warden-Commander yesterday evening. She told me that you are joining the Wardens.”

Liss’ stomach churned, her heart sinking. She had not even considered how joining the Wardens would affect her position on the queen’s council. She should have asked for permission, spoken with Anora about it first. “Yes, I asked, but if you wish me to remain here to serve on your council, I will.”

“No,” Anora laughed, “Not at all. It is actually quite the coincidence, as I have decided to disband my small council for the time being. With the restoration from the Blight and Civil War nearing completion, things are beginning to quiet. The issues with the Wardens in Amaranthine have caused quite the stir, but I think I have come up with a solution.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. The Warden-Commander has graciously offered to step down from her position as Arlessa.”

“So does that mean it will become property of the crown again?” Liss had no idea what good it would do to remove a stable leader from the arling so soon after a darkspawn invasion. Regardless of how the people felt about the Grey Wardens, they provided a necessary structure that would aid the recovery.

“No,” Anora began, “I’ve sent a raven to Kirkwall for Delilah Howe, to ask if she will assume the title. I believe that returning the land to the Howe family will douse more than one fire.”

“Delilah will make a wonderful arlessa,” Liss assured Anora, “I am certain the people will love her, and I’m happy that she's not being punished for Arl Rendon’s crimes.”

“I am hopeful,” Anora sighed, “However, should I need your assistance again-”

“You may call on me any time.”

“I appreciate that. More than you know.” The queen smiled slightly and averted her gaze to the ground as if ashamed of her own fondness. “In councils such as mine, in the landsmeet even, people spend so much time debating who is right that they often forget to consider what is right. You don’t. Your voice has been a humble and present reminder of that, Lady Elissa. From what I know of your parents, they would be proud of you.”

Unexpected tears welled in Liss’ eyes. “It is my honor, your majesty. You’ve been so kind to me.”

“Be well, Elissa.”

“You too,” Liss choked out, bowing her head reverently as Anora turned to leave the room. If saying goodbye to the queen was this difficult, she dreaded her conversation with Bria. She might just die instead.

As soon as Anora was gone, she picked up her things once again and made her way down the hall toward the bath area with which she had become so familiar. Upon opening the door, she was greeted with a rush of warm, damp air brushing against her face. The room was occupied by several water basins, filled and heated by enchanted runes. Liss remembered reading somewhere that King Maric had borrowed much from the dwarves he encountered on his journeys, and apparently it extended to even the operation of the bathrooms.

Setting all of the items she carried down on a shelf near one of the basins, she bent down to remove her shoes, flinching as she heard the soft sound of water moving in a basin across the room. The urge to immediately panic, her body’s sudden jump into defensiveness, infuriated her. She couldn’t even feel safe taking a bath in one of the safest places in Ferelden.

The water moved again, accompanied by a soft voice that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Liss finished taking off her shoes, and rose up to look at the woman who sat in the water across the room from her, long, silky hair damp and dripping over her shoulder. The Warden-Commander was a completely different person without the shine of her armor, without her hair pulled back from her face, and without the stiff posture that made her seem ten feet tall. She was just a young woman with far more on her shoulders than Liss could imagine.

“You didn’t,” Liss replied, continuing to undress, “Well, not really. I just… startle easily, so you don’t have to apologize.”

“Alistair is jumpy, too.” Lucia smiled sadly, looking down. “At first, I thought that it was because he was scared of me.”

“Are you used to people being scared of you,” she asked as she slipped down into the perfectly warm water.

“I’m a mage. It comes with the territory,” she explained, “The fact that I have somehow stumbled into a position of authority makes it worse.”

“Right.” Liss nodded, unsure what to say. It felt too personal, and she didn’t understand why the woman she barely knew was saying such things. “For what it’s worth: I don’t think you’re frightening. Not for being a mage, and not for making difficult decisions that nobody else would want to make.”

“Thank you,” the other woman said and shifted beneath the water. There was a brief moment of silence and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but shut it abruptly.

“What is it?”

“I was going to ask something,” Lucia admitted, “But then I realized that it might be too personal. We don’t really know one another.”

Liss shrugged. “We’re naked in the same room together, so if there ever were a time to get too personal, I’d say this is appropriate.”

“You have a point,” Lucia remarked, laughing quietly, “I was going to ask how you got that scar?”

Reflexively, Liss drew her hand up to her shoulder, as if she meant to hide the big ugly mark. “It’s a gift from Rendon Howe,” she answered dryly, tracing the mark with her fingertips, “I don’t even remember it happening, to be honest. Everything was so terrible that day, getting slashed across the shoulder did not seem so bad.”

“Oh. Right,” Lucia said, voice heavy with genuine emotion that Liss found surprising, “I’m sorry. I should have known.”

“It’s okay.”

A silence stretched between them for what could have been an eternity for all Liss knew, and she grappled internally for anything to say. Despite having only just met Lucia a few days prior, their stories were so intertwined now, every topic she could possibly discuss led to more topics she did not wish to. She worried that at any moment, the other woman would change her mind about allowing Liss to join the Wardens, that she would change her mind about forgiving her for the whole kissing Alistair thing. She was terrified that she would leave and take him with her, take Nate with her. Liss would be alone, without a purpose, without a place. No, it was safer to be silent than to risk upsetting the person who held her one opportunity at a new life in her delicate little hands.

Suddenly, Lucia stood, water splashing and trickling around her, drawing Liss from her ruminations. She brought her eyes up to the woman whose brows were furrowed as she stared off into space, likely in her own mind as well. She was so thin, so pale that her skin was almost translucent. She had scars, too. Long, shallow marks on her arms and abdomen, several deep marks that looked to be from arrows near her chest. Liss marveled at her, wondered how the woman who looked so fragile could have survived those wounds at all.

“I suppose I’ve spent enough time sitting here, stewing in my thoughts,” she said with a laugh, picking up a towel and drying herself before wrapping it around her body. “I need to make sure things are in order for the trip back to Amaranthine. You should, as well.” She sounded much more distant than she had just moments before.

“Oh. When will we be leaving?”

“This afternoon.”

“Okay,” Liss said with a nod, taking a shaky breath. She hadn’t expected to leave so soon. “I’ll be ready.”

Lucia finished drying off, slipped on a long tunic and leggings that she likely wore underneath her armor, before exiting the room and leaving Liss to bathe in proper. She’d been so distracted by the other woman before, that she’d forgotten why she’d come in the first place. Knowing that she’d be leaving soon, she hurried through washing her body and hair, hopping out of the basin, drying, getting dressed, and heading back to her own quarters. She wanted to make sure that she had enough time to say goodbye to Bria more than anything. Luckily, she had few things to pack: her armor and sword, journals, and some of the clothing Anora had given her, so she was able to gather everything together quickly, and make her way out of the castle.

Her hair was more than a little damp, and the long curls stiffened as she stepped out into the crisp air, the cold prickling up on her skin. She should have thought to put on a coat, but she certainly wasn’t going back for one now. There was so little time. She began to make her way toward the market and to Bria’s shop. It would be warm there after all.

Liss stopped in her tracks as she entered the courtyard and caught a glimpse of a row of hay targets, and a lean figure standing at a distance from them, firing arrows rapidly, one after another. It had been such a long time since she’d seen Nate practice, she hadn’t even considered how much better he would have gotten over the years. She smiled and her heart fluttered in her chest, heat rushing to her face. Apparently, it was attractive to her. Then again, it always had been. She didn’t know why she was surprised.

“Nate,” she called, moving in closer, watching as every muscle in his back and shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice. She could only remember him ever doing that when he was bent out of shape about one thing or another, and when he turned to face her, the unenthusiastic smile he offered her did nothing to convince her otherwise. He continued to shoot as if she had not spoken to him. Liss moved closer and stood behind him watching attentively as she had always done. Pulling an arrow from its quiver, nocking, and aiming, he fired, sending an arrow toward the center of the target, splitting another arrow down the middle. Her eyes widened involuntarily and she blinked a few times to make sure she’d actually seen what happened.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at that since the last time I watched you.”

“I should hope so,” Nate mumbled gruffly, words so pointed they might as well have been arrows.

Unable to appropriately process what he said and the tone in which he said it quickly enough, Liss just made what she assumed was an incredibly ridiculous and befuddled face at him. He’d never spoken to her in any way other than gentle, with the exception of the times he was attempting to appease his father, but Arl Howe was not present, or even alive for that matter, and the harshness seemed uncalled for. If Nate noticed her expression, he didn’t show it, and continued with his practice.

It was a complete change in demeanor from the night before, when he all but kissed her, when he’d come into her room and spoken so softly. What could she have possibly done to upset him in her sleep? Had he changed his mind about her? Was he ignoring her… again? The barrage of worries and painful possibilities tied knots in her stomach. EIght years she had spent concerned and confused about him. He was here now, and she refused to let him make her feel that way again. Steeling herself with a breath, she marched her way over to stand in front of Nate, so that she was between him and his intended target with a hand on her hip.

“Liss,” Nate sighed, clearly irritated as he lowered his bow and returned an arrow to his quiver. “Don’t do this.”

“What,” she asked sharply, “You think I’m just going to stand there and let you ignore me? How many years have we known each other, Nate?”

“Not enough for you to know when to leave me alone, clearly.” Liss wasn’t certain, but she would have sworn she saw him flinch at his own words.

She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Is that really what you want?”

“No,” he blurted, “That’s not what I want. None of this is what I want, but my opinion doesn’t matter anyway, does it?”

Liss tilted her head and squinted. “What?” She had no idea in Thedas what he was going on about. Had he just dreamed up a reason to be angry with her?

“You’ve asked to join the Grey Wardens,” he said as if it were an accusation.

“Yes,” she said with a fair amount of hesitation. She had not even considered that he, of all people, would take issue with it.

“Why?”

“I suppose ‘Because I wanted to,’ isn’t going to cut it for you, is it?”

“No.”

“Well,” Liss began, willing away the anger and hurt that caused her voice to shake to no avail, “When my family was murdered, everything I ever knew about how my life was going to go was tossed out the window. I’ve spent well over a year searching to find my footing again, to find a place where I belong, a purpose.”

“And you thought that joining the Wardens was the best way to do that,” Nate asked, and for the first time she saw the worry beneath all of his ruffled feathers. ‘What about Anora? Fergus?”

Liss smiled, though she didn’t mean it. “They don’t need me, Nate. Queen Anora has decided to disband her council for the time being, and Fergus, well, as much as I would like to help him, I can’t even walk down the hallways in our castle without reliving that night over and over again.”

“I understand that,” he said more gently, moving closer to Liss. He dropped his bow haphazardly, placing his hands on her arms, “It’s just… being a Warden isn’t just something you do. It is something you become. I know you have these romantic ideas about what the Grey Wardens are, but it is nothing so glorious.”

“Nothing is as romantic or glorious as it seems, I’m afraid,” she said with a laugh. Nate did not find it funny.

“I’m serious, Liss,” he said, hands squeezing her arms more tightly. It wasn’t rough by any means. He did not have it in him to be rough, and she knew it, but she could feel his frustration. “I am not supposed to tell you this, but The Joining, the ritual you have to participate in can kill you instantly.”

“So could a random boulder falling on my head and squashing me.” She flashed another smile at him, and again he remained unamused.

Disregarding her comment, he continued. “Even if you survive the ritual, it will kill you eventually. We get thirty years to live, at best. That’s it.”

“That’s more than most people get,” she remarked nonchalantly, although in her mind she remembered Oriana and Oren, their lives cut so desperately short, “At least this way, I get some say in how it happens.”

“Son of a- Elissa ,” Nate said through his teeth, “I know that you are trying to regain some sense of control in your life, but I am telling you that this is not the way to do that. I am trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Nathaniel ,” she snapped, pushing his hands off of her arms and stepping away from him, “I’ve never needed that, and you know it. All I need from you is for you to be my friend, and to support the decisions I make for myself.”

“I can’t watch you die, Liss.” His voice wavered as he spoke. He cleared his throat, stiffened his posture, and continued. “And I won’t. Make a needless sacrifice if you must, but don’t expect me to support you.” With that, he shook his head and pushed past her toward the entrance of the castle, not even caring to pick up the bow that he left laying in the dirt.

Typically, Liss would have cried. She wanted to cry at that moment, but she was too angry. What had Nate hoped to accomplish with his attitude anyway? Did he not thing she was strong enough to be a Grey Warden? Did he not want her there? How dare he think that he was allowed to have any say in the matter anyway. He had ignored her for eight years, left her alone to think that he didn’t care about her for eight Maker-forsaken years. He had no right to care now. She told herself he was being a selfish arse, and that he’d snap out of it later. He’d apologize, and everything would be okay. For the moment, her departure from Denerim was inching closer, and she still had one more goodbye to make.

Picking up the bow from the ground and leaning it against the target so that it would not get stepped on and broken, Liss left the courtyard, as she had intended all along and headed toward the Market District. Saying goodbye to Bria would be painful, she knew, but nothing could be worse than her conversation with Nate. In fact, knowing Bria, she’d find some way to make Liss laugh, and if she were to survive the trip to Amaranthine, she was counting on it.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #temperance #my writing #update

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allisondraste · 5 years ago

Text

Temperance (20/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Chapter Summary: It’d be better if people could love who they wanted.

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:21 Dragon

Liss had been in trouble plenty of times, but she had never been in “sit in Papa’s chair in his office while he and Mama pace about angrily” trouble. She actually wasn’t certain who to be more afraid of at the moment: Her mother, who ranted and scolded and lectured and scolded some more, or her father who tapped his chin quietly as he read over a small scroll of parchment in his hand. She decided they were equally bad, and she wanted to toss herself into the nearest waste bin, melt into the floor —something, anything to escape her parents disappointment and scrutiny.

It didn’t help that she wasn’t even sure what she had done yet. She’d been telling Nate, well actually expounding in great detail to Nate, about Orzammar and Dwarven Culture. Specifically, she’d been discussing brontos, how they were rare in Northern Ferelden, and what she would sell to see one. Namely, her left arm. He had gently encouraged her not to do that and then her parents walked in, pale and scowling. Whatever it was, she was done for.

Papa stopped reading and pacing and sat the parchment down on the desk in front of Liss, sliding it to her. She blinked up at him to make sure he meant for her to read it and he nodded. His eyes were still gentle, but she could tell he was trying hard to hide it. It was good that he wasn’t too stern because Mama was mean enough for the both of them when she wanted to be.

Looking down at the note, Liss saw lines of neatly written letters, nothing elaborate as a scribe would produce, however. Her stomach sank as she began to read aloud.

To My Lord and Lady Cousland,

It is with much sorrow that I ask to be released from my duties here at your castle, so that my daughter and I may move and begin our lives elsewhere. I am concerned with the relationship between my Rila, and Lady Elissa, and what it might mean for both of them. I harbor no hard feelings toward your family, but I have lived long enough to know what happens when elven servants become involved romantically with nobility. I would hate for either of our daughters to be a part of such a scandal. They care for one another deeply, I can tell, but it is hard for them to understand how serious it is. I think it is best if I remove Rila from the situation altogether.

I am grateful for your family’s kindness in many ways.

Sincerely,

Deveni

She looked up from the note, tears hot in her eyes and rolling down her face as she looked at her father. Even less stern than before, he still shook his head to indicate his disapproval. Her mother grew quiet, eyes filled with concern even through her obvious anger.

“We told you to leave that girl alone,” she said coldly, words clipped at the end, “We made it very, very clear that you were not to even be friends with her, let alone more than that.”

“Why,” Liss cried, more tears falling, “Why can’t we be together? It’s not fair.”

“Elissa,” Papa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Pup, I wish that we lived in a world where you could be with whoever you wanted. I wish I could give that to you, but I can’t. Unfortunately, there are those among the noble houses of Ferelden who would view your relationship with Rila as political leverage against our family. They’d use it to hurt us and you. Rila, too.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart,’ Mama said, softening finally, “Can you not see that we are protecting you, just as Rila’s mother is protecting her? You are lucky Deveni is a kind person. No telling who she could have sold this information to otherwise.”

Papa furrowed his brows, thinking, and looked at Liss. “How many people know about you and Rila, that you know of?”

“Just Nathaniel,” Liss replied with a sniffle, “I didn’t even tell Fergus.”

He shrugged. “Wise choice. That boy couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.”

Liss disagreed. Fergus was very good at keeping secrets -- the best-- but she didn’t feel like suffering his teasing, or putting him in an awkward position with their parents. Besides, he had enough on is plate, spending every waking minute with lovely Oriana. Liss couldn’t blame him. She was perfect, after all.

“Do you trust Nathaniel?” Her mother’s question was sincere and curious, though Liss was taken aback. Of course she did!

“More than anyone,” Liss answered with a nod, and her parents both raised their eyebrows and looked at one another.

“Even us,” Papa asked.

Guilt washed over her, but she told the truth anyway. “Yes.”

“Well,” he replied with a chuckle, “Better hold on to him. People like that are hard to find.”

Mama nodded along in agreement, and they all sat in a tense silence for a few moments before Liss gathered the courage to speak again.

“Could I, um,” she began, heart climbing up her throat, “Could I at least say goodbye to Rila?”

Again, her parents looked at one another and then back to her with sympathetic expressions.

“Pup, Rila and her mother left this morning,” Papa explained, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Liss choked back the sob that followed and took a deep breath, eyes focused on the grain of the wood of her father’s desk. “Are we done talking?”

“Yes,” Mama said gently, “You can go, if you want to.”

That was all the permission she needed to jump up from the chair, and dart out of the room leaving her parents with their tired and worried expressions behind. Her heart was broken, shattered at the notion that her parents waited until Rila was gone to tell her any of this. That she couldn’t even say goodbye to the girl she loved. What if she blamed Liss? It was her fault, after all. Rila had always been worried that it was a bad idea, and Liss just ignored her concerns. Liss probably deserved all the heartache, considering.

When she looked up, the door to Nate’s room stood before her. She hated that she always wound up there when she was sad. Nate made her feel better, but what if it was the same with Rila, and he just felt like he had to comfort her? She didn’t exactly give him a choice, spilling her guts over and over without even asking if he cared to hear it. What if he actually resented her for it? She stared at his door a few moments longer and spun on her heels to walk away. It would be selfish of her to bother him with something like this again.

Liss had only taken a couple of steps when the sound of a door creaking open echoed through the hallway. “Liss? You okay?”

She turned back to look at him immediately, and judging by the look on his face, she didn’t have to answer. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m…”

“Want to talk about it?” He motioned with his head for her to come in, and she nodded, walking slowly, ashamedly past Nate and into his room.

Liss sat down unceremoniously on the floor by his bed, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing her forehead to her knees. She trembled as she fought the urge to release the sob she’d been holding since she’d run from Papa’s office. It wasn’t long before there was a warmth at her side and arms pulling her over into an embrace, Nate’s arms, hugging her first . His chin was on her head, and were she not so overwhelmingly sad, she might be flustered.

“Sorry to bother you,” she mumbled against his chest.

“You’re not,” he reassured her, “The only time you’ve ever bothered me is when you woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me about Warden Garahel and the Fourth Blight.”

“Yeah, that could have waited until the morning.”

“You think?” He laughed, and it vibrated against her cheek. There was a pause and he continued, “What’s wrong, Liss?”

“My parents found out about Rila,” she explained,”Which wouldn’t have been that bad, but the reason they found out was because her mother wrote them a letter to request permission to leave her job here and find work somewhere else. She and Rila left this morning. I didn’t even get to tell her goodbye.”

Her lip quivered despite her efforts to keep it steady, and she became more and more upset with each word. She grasped at the fabric of Nate’s shirt, and he held her more tightly as she released that stubborn sob.

“I’m sorry,” he said, nearly whispering, “I know you love her.”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I feel like I love her, but… you don’t put someone you love in a situation like I did with Rila, do you?” Her tears began to fall more slowly, though her chest still ached. “No matter how much your heart wants you to.”

“It’s hard not to listen to your heart.”

“Why can’t we live in a world where it doesn’t matter?” She leaned back and looked up at Nate who stared off into the distance until he noticed her eyes on him and brought his to meet them. “We could love who we wanted.”

“It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

“What about you,” she asked, pulling out of the embrace and leaning back against the side of the bed, “Have you ever loved someone you couldn’t be with?”

There was a pause, but he answered. “I have.”

Liss snapped her head in his direction. She had never imagined Nate loving anyone, or being with anyone in any romantic capacity. He’d never really talked about it like Fergus did. He seemed completely uninterested. It hurt, how much she did not know about this side of him, but it was her fault that she never thought to ask.

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“No, it’s just… I thought you’d tell me something like that, is all.” She couldn't really disguise the hurt that lingered at the end of that statement. She couldn’t tell if she was more hurt over the fact that he kept the secret, or that it existed in the first place. She hated the jealousy that gnawed at her. She had no right.

“It’s hard to talk about,” he explained, dropping his head, “Sometimes I think about what might happen if I told her how I felt, but…it’s a bad idea. Father has forbidden it, and I don’t know if she even feels the same way about me.”

New tears formed in Liss’ eyes, and they weren’t for Rila this time. She reached over to take Nate’s hand, lacing her fingers through his. .

“Sorry,” he said and shook his head, squeezing her hand more tightly, “I didn’t mean to make this about me.”

“You didn’t. I’m the one who asked.” She shrugged. “Besides, things are about me enough.”

“I wish…,” Nate began, but paused as if reconsidering what he was going to say. He frowned and continued. “I wish that I could tell you about her.”

“You can.” She perked up.

“I really can’t.”

“Is she beautiful,” Liss asked and a smile twitched at the corner of Nate’s mouth. She grinned. “Oh, so she is then?”

“She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, in every way. Not just on the outside.” He sighed and looked at her, pale eyes sparkling intently. “She doesn’t even realize it, though. It’s frustrating how average she thinks she is.”

For a brief moment, Liss could have sworn he was talking about her, the way their eyes met, but that was stupid. Nate wouldn’t think about her that way. She wasn’t beautiful enough.

“Wow, she’s lucky,” Liss blurted, and immediately regretted it, “...to have someone feel that way about her, that is.”

“You think so?” Nate laughed, clearly amused.

“If someone said that about me, I’d probably cry.”

“You cry over a lot of things,” Nate teased.

“Yes,” she remarked tersely, frowning, “And I’d cry over that, too.”

Liss almost forgot that she was holding Nate’s hand, until she noticed his thumb grazing hers softly, back and forth. She watched for a moment, an overwhelming rush of feelings flooding through her. It was as natural and easy to hold his hand as it was to interlock her own fingers. She’d never thought much about it; it was just something they did, something they had always done. Now, it meant so much. She tried to imagine a world where she couldn’t hold his hand, and every option made her sad. Sadder than when she found out Rila was gone, sadder than anything.

Maybe she loved Rila, maybe not, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that she could never love another person like she loved Nathaniel. She just wished so desperately that he loved her, too, that she was the person he’d been speaking of. She hated the idea that someone could swoop in and take him away from her.

“Liss?” Nate waved a hand in front of her face, and leaned in more closely, squinting. She’d been so lost in her thoughts and she hadn’t even realized.

“Hmm?” She blinked and shook her head, heat rising to her cheeks with the nearness of him.

“You’re about to cry again,” he stated as if it were an indisputable fact.

“No, I’m not,” she protested as tears fell from her eyes.

Nate grabbed her shoulders firmly. “What is it?”

“It’s dumb.”

Probably,” he said, dryly, “But it’s making you upset.”

Liss took a deep breath and braced herself for the confession she knew she shouldn’t make. “It’s so much easier to think about the fact that Rila is gone now than it is to think about you having to leave in the future.”

Nate blinked at her beneath furrowed brows, but said nothing, so she continued.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nate,” she explained, throat aching with the emotion she kept trying to hold back.

He laughed, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if you do?” She pouted. She must seem like such a child.

“You’d manage.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are smart, and strong, and kind, and everyone who meets you loves you.” He brought a hand up to wipe a tear from her cheek and let it linger there for a moment. “How could they not?”

“But everyone leaves,” she remarked, more tears replacing those that had fallen before. “Just like Rila.”

“I’m not everyone,” he said, almost sounding annoyed, as he brushed away her tears again. “I’m also not Rila.”

Nate pressed his lips to her forehead briefly and then pulled away, eyes meeting hers, faces hovering close enough together that his breath warmed her face, colliding with hers. Had she not not known any better, she would have thought he wanted to kiss her, and she wouldn’t dare stop him. In fact, she wanted him to do it, welcomed it. She wondered if his lips would be soft, what he’d taste like, and if he’d run his fingers through her hair. Surely, he’d be good at it. He was good at everything else, so it only made sense.

But he didn’t kiss her. Of course, he didn’t. It was Nate for Andraste’s sake! He was too thoughtful and reasonable to ever consider doing something so impulsive as kissing someone who clearly wanted to be kissed, who closed her eyes and waited until she realized he had turned away.

“You don’t have to worry about losing me,” he said, picking at a loose thread on his breeches and then looking up at her. “You’re my best friend, and I won’t let that happen.”

“Swear?” She glared at him through squinted eyes. It was as playful a gesture as she could manage in her disappointment.

“On my life.” He smirked and looked back at her.

Leaning over against him, she looped her left arm through his right, head dropping to his shoulder. He tilted his head so that it was against hers. It wasn’t a kiss, but she’d take it.

“Fine,” she relented, and told him what she had known all along. “I trust you.”

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #howesland #temperance #update #my writing

31 notes · View notes

allisondraste · 5 years ago

Text

Temperance (24/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Chapter Summary: Fergus get’s married, and Liss tries to cope with Nathaniel’s absence.

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:23 Dragon

Dear Nate,

I have been sitting at my desk, staring at this blank parchment for hours now, trying to figure out what to say. It’s weird, writing letters. Planning my words carefully is not exactly a skill of mine. It’s hard for me to write an entire conversation without being able to see your face. How am I supposed to know that I am being ridiculous if you aren’t here to roll your eyes at me?

If you were here right now, I’d just skip the words and hug you. Too bad I can’t send a hug with this letter.

How is Starkhaven? Mama’s been there before. She says it’s beautiful, and quite a lot different from Ferelden. Do they really eat fish pie there? It sounds absolutely disgusting, but you know I’d try it at least once. I’ve been reading about the Vael family, too, but I am certain that you don’t want to read pages of me going on about Amadis Vael and the Ruby Drakes who aided the Grey Wardens during the Fourth Blight , so I’ll just leave it at that. (She was really amazing, though. You should read about her sometime!)

Fergus’ wedding is today. Actually, I probably should be running around like a headless chicken just like everyone else, getting ready. I am just not that excited about it. Don’t get me wrong, Oriana is wonderful, and I am so glad my brother has someone who loves him and makes him happy, but it just reminds me that I’m alone. It’s not as if I want to be married any time soon, or even ever. That’s not a priority of mine, but it would be nice to think that someone might love me like that someday.

Last summer, I almost thought— well, never mind what I thought. It doesn’t matter now. You’re gone, and any feelings you might possibly have for me are gone with you. I just wish we had actually had time to talk about the kiss and what it meant. I tried and tried to tell myself that it was just some stupid, drunken thing, but that’s not true, at least not on my end.

Nate, I think I’m in love with you. I’ve tried everything I can think of to explain my feelings, but none of it makes sense. I think I’ve loved you for a really long time, and didn’t realize it because it’s not like the love I’ve read about in stories. It’s not some grand, magical thing. It’s not anything I thought love was supposed to be. I’m still not sure how to explain it, but it hurts, especially now that you’re not here. It’s like a part of me is missing. It’s stupid, I know, but that’s the truth.

I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me. Please don’t think that. I just think that I might actually explode if I hold all of these feelings inside. I thought I owed it to myself to be brave and tell you. I thought you should know.

Really, what I want to say most, is that I miss you. Summer just isn’t the same without you here. I hope that you are faring better than I, and that you learn a lot during your training. I know you didn’t want to go, but I am still envious of you. Maybe one day, when you come back to Ferelden — if you come back to Ferelden— you can tell me all about it.

Love,

Liss

Liss folded the parchment, slid it in an envelope, and sealed it with a wax stamp as quickly as she could. Before someone could read what she wrote. Before she could change her mind. She could, of course, still shred the letter or drop it in the fireplace. That was the good thing about letters: Until they were sent, you could always take back the words you wrote. She didn’t think she would. As much as the thought of telling Nate she loved him terrified her, the thought of not telling him terrified her more.

A tear dropped from her chin to land on the polished wooden surface of her desk. She had done so well, too, making it through the entirety of the letter without crying all over the parchment. She wiped at her eyes and cheeks with the backs of her hands, attempting to scrub away the evidence of her broken heart, but they just kept coming. Stupid heart. Stupid eyes. Stupid tears.

A knock at the door stiffened her back and she worked even harder to hide the fact that she’d been crying.

“Y-Yes,” she muttered, “Come in.”

The door creaked open behind her and she looked over her shoulder to see her father, dressed in his formal attire. His greying hair was combed and styled handsomely. Despite being so polished, his expression was haggard as it always was when Liss did something bothersome. This time, it was probably just her red eyes and swollen nose.

“My girl, what in Thedas is the matter?” His voice resonated with concern as he moved closer to look at her face as if he would find the answer written on her forehead.

“I miss Nathaniel,” she said, standing and turning to face him, pressing her lips together to keep them from quivering. She held the envelope between her fingers and extended it out to him. “I was just… writing him a letter.”

“I know you care for Nathaniel, and that it’s been difficult for you since he left,” he answered gently, but the irritation was evident in his voice, “But Fergus’ wedding will start in just over an hour. Don’t you think it could have waited until later?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.“

He laughed and smiled sympathetically as he took the letter from her hand and tucked it into his coat. “All right, pup,” he said, kissing her forehead, “I’ll take your word for it. I’ll send it out first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, Papa,” she mumbled, “I’ll go get ready now.”

Liss turned to wander away and get ready, when Papa called out to her again.

“Liss,” he said and she stopped to look back at him.

“Mhmm?”

“I’m sure that you already know this, but your mother asked me to remind you—“

“I know Arl Howe is here,” she interrupted, “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to him. I’d actually rather pretend he isn’t here.”

“Well, you can’t blame us for being concerned.” He sighed. “You have a history of… saying whatever comes to mind.”

“I will be on my best behavior,” she promised, meeting her father’s gaze directly to show him she was serious.

“Please do,” Papa said, almost a plea, “If not for mine and your mother’s sake, for Fergus’ and Oriana’s.”

Liss nodded, kissed him on the cheek, and he exited the room. He closed the door gently behind him, leaving her to make herself presentable. If she could not engage in outward protest of Rendon Howe’s presence at the wedding after he ripped Nathaniel from their family, she would at least refuse to let him get to her. He would not have the gratification of seeing her upset.

Of course, it was easy to tell herself that he wouldn’t bother her, and another thing entirely to see his beady-eyed arrogance as he walked into the Chantry with Thomas and Delilah at his side. Liss had not expected her reaction to be so staggering and visceral, and she’d never wanted to spit in someone’s face as much as she did that slimy weasel of a man. Maker help her if he attempted to flaunt his preferred son about in front of her face like some sort of twisted consolation prize.

Delilah, pretty as a flower, long dark hair braided elegantly, waved at Liss subtly from across the room, and Liss returned the gesture. At her side, Thomas stood stiffly, all of the color washed from his handsome face, dark eyes sunken in and hollow. Liss pitied him. It was difficult to imagine the pressure he was under as his father’s heir. Nate once told her about how Tom had the hardest time handling their father, and how he’d been drinking a lot. She imagined things had only gotten worse without his big brother.

The ceremony was lovely, even more so than Liss would have imagined, elaborate Antivan decorations brightening up the drab Fereldan chantry hall. Liss focused her attention on the front of the room where her brother stood, fidgeting nervously and wiping at the corners of his eyes as he looked at Oriana. He seemed so grown up in all of his finery that it was hard to believe he was the same person as the clunky boy Liss had always known. He was a proper man now, and she was so proud of him. She turned to see both of her parents smiling, sniffling, and blotting tears from their eyes while Fergus and Oriana promised, before their families, friends, and the Maker himself, that they would love one another forever.

Liss hoped, with everything she had, that they could.

The formal ceremony concluded with the newly married couple’s kiss, and the attendees filed out of the Chantry in a hurry, most likely ready to return to the castle, where a feast was to be had. Liss was in no such hurry and meandered about slowly behind the crowd. She wasn’t exactly hungry, and the idea of a large hall full of rowdy people and loud music was not as appealing to her as it typically would have been. When she reached the castle, chatter already rang out into the courtyard, where several of the guests stood about gossiping.

Several pairs of unfamiliar faces examined her as she approached. It was rude, but she smiled at them nonetheless. When she walked past, she could hear them whispering behind her. Lies and nonsense spread about after her dance with Nathaniel last year. She could not count the number of rumors her parents had to discount since then. Rumors that she was betrothed to Thomas and having an affair with Nathaniel. Rumors that she danced with Nathaniel as a cover for her secret relationship with a servant. Rumors that Liss was “promiscuous,” and Nathaniel was just one of a long list of romantic conquests. Rumors that Nathaniel was a troubled young man who took advantage of her, and that’s why he was sent away the very next year. Liss wasn’t certain that Nate’s father hadn’t concocted every last one of them himself.

It all infuriated Liss so much she thought she might catch on fire, her hands tightening into fists at her sides as she bit her tongue and held her breath to keep from turning and giving the noble arseholes a piece of her mind. It made her sick to think that grown men and women had nothing better to do than spread vile, hateful rumors about people more than half their age, about children. She tried to remember what Papa had told her when she’d first heard them. “Anyone who matters, knows better than to believe this nonsense, and anyone who believes it doesn’t matter.”

She managed to keep her nose down and make it past the gossipers and through the gates into the main hall without incident. She realized she probably shouldn’t have kept her nose down for so long when she bumped directly into another person. She looked up, prepared to apologize, and her blood ran cold.

“You shouldn’t walk with your head down, Lady Cousland,” said Arl Howe in a voice that sounded as if it came more from his nose than from his mouth, “It is unbecoming.”

She would show him unbecoming, she thought, but knew better, and painted on an apologetic smile on her face instead. “Forgive me, my lord. I am afraid my brother inherited all of the good manners.”

“It seems that is the case in every family,” he replied with a hateful grin, pausing to watch as Liss attempted to not show her discomfort, and then continued, “Nathaniel sends his regards.”

“What would I care for his regards, my lord,” she asked, through her teeth.

“It is my understanding that you two were close,” he explained with more than a little insincerity.

“We were.” Liss fought back the tears in her eyes and the rage in her chest.

“And yet, you don’t care for his regards?” He quirked up an eyebrow at her.

“No, my lord,” she stated, cooly, “I don’t. Not from you.”

Arl Howe flinched, opening and closing his mouth a few times. He had clearly not expected her to be so bold. If she were honest, she hadn’t either and instantly regretted her decision. There would be no taking it back. Panic swelled in her stomach and flushed her face, and then a hand fell gently on her shoulder.

“My apologies, Arl Rendon,” a silvery, voice Liss knew to be Oriana’s rang out, “I need to borrow Lady Elissa for a bit. Family business and such.”

Liss turned to look at the woman whose gaze was locked on the arl’s, a beautiful and sincere smile painting her face. Then she shifted her gaze back to Arl Howe, who narrowed his eyes.

“By all means,” he muttered and waved them away with a dismissive flip of his hand.

“Come on,” Oriana said to Liss, motioning to the door that led to the gardens with her head.

They walked arm in arm to the gardens, Oriana smiling and waving graciously at guests as she passed by, stopping just a few times to thank a few people who congratulated her. She was perfect and elegant and everyone loved her in a way that made Liss know she was made to be the Teyrna of Highever. She’d never felt more thankful for “family business,” in her life, whatever it was.

When they reached the gardens, Oriana released Liss’ arm and turned to face her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Mhmm.” Liss nodded absently and looked around for the other members of her family before looking back at Oriana. “What is the family business.”

“There is none,” she replied with a wink, “I just wanted to get you away from that horrible man. Are you certain that you are all right?”

Liss wanted to tell her she was fine, that she had just had an uncomfortable exchange with the arl, and that it was not a big deal. She didn’t want to burden Oriana with her own stupid problems on her wedding day. She should be inside with Fergus, having fun eating and drinking, celebrating their marriage. She shouldn’t be out in the gardens consoling her husband’s pathetic little sister.

She wanted to do all of those things, but she could not keep the hot tears from pooling in her eyes under Oriana’s concerned gaze. She couldn’t stop them from falling down her cheeks, and dripping from her chin. So she shook her head slowly. “No,” she said hoarsely, “I’m not.”

“Oh, poor girl,” she said sweetly and pulled Liss into a protective sort of embrace with one hand in her hair, “I am sorry I did not get to you sooner.”

Unable to hold back the flood of emotions any longer, especially with the other woman’s overt sympathy, Liss wrapped her arms around her and sobbed as Oriana raked gentle fingers through her hair, occasionally reassuring her that everything would be okay. Liss eventually calmed down enough to pull away from Oriana and apologize.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffing, “You shouldn’t be… it’s your wedding and—”

“Nonsense,” Oriana interrupted affectionately, “We are sisters now. Family. We take care of one another, yes?”

“I, um…” Liss trailed off, too flustered and appreciative to form coherent words, “Thank you.”

Oriana took her hand and led her over to one of the stone benches that sat before the fountain centerpiece. She sat down and motioned for Liss to join her.

“I have heard the lies these people speak about you, Elissa,” she began, staring out at the water glistening in the fountain, “They have made similar claims about me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Anything to destroy my relationship with Fergus, to make him question me.” Oriana closed her eyes and laughed. “Did you know that I am secretly the black sheep of a wealthy Antivan family, who paid your father handsomely to take me off of their hands?”

“They said that about you?”

“It is easier for them to believe than the truth, which is that Fergus fell in love with a commoner.”

“That’s so—” Liss began, but paused when she realized her voice had grown too loud in the excitement— “Stupid.”

“They are small people, Elissa. Insignificant. Their tiny little minds cannot understand anything beyond power and wealth. That Rendon Howe is the worst.”

“I hate him,” Liss spat.

“Me, too,” Oriana agreed, sighing and shifting a bit where she sat. She was silent for several moments and then a smile twitched on her lips. “It feels good to say that out loud.”

Liss giggled in agreement, and then looked at Oriana more seriously. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“It is nothing, honestly,” Oriana said with a laugh, waving her hand vaguely.

“I am glad you are part of our family.”

Oriana smiled gently. “I can’t imagine a better family to be a part of.”

Footsteps rustled through the grass several feet away, and Liss snapped her had in the direction of the noise, only to see Fergus grinning from ear to ear.

“Oriana, love, everyone’s been asking where you’ve—” he stopped when he noticed Liss— “Liss?”

“Surprise,” Liss said dryly.

Fergus narrowed his eyes and stared at her much as Papa had done earlier, and she began to wonder if she really did have answers written on her forehead. “You’ve been crying?”

“I always cry.”

“Not like this, you don’t.” He knelt down and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What happened, Liss? Was it those damned rumors again?”

Liss nodded, tears coming back to her eyes.

“Who?” Fergus’ tone was more serious than she could recall ever recall it being. “I will kick their arses out so fast, Liss, just say the word.”

“Nobody I recognized,” Liss explained quickly, as touched by her brother’s protectiveness as she was alarmed, “It was just a lot, and then I ran into Arl Howe… literally.”

“Shit, sis.”

“He was not pleased, but I apologized, and I did so well…”

“But?”

“He told me that Nathaniel sent his regards,” she answered sheepishly.

Fergus sighed. “And you told him where to shove them, didn’t you?”

“Basically,” she admitted, but immediately added, “I was so angry it just slipped out. Luckily Oriana showed up before anything else happened.”

“And thank the Maker for that,” he said, eyeing his wife with admiration before turning back to Liss, “Sadly, Howe is probably the only person whose arse I can’t kick out tonight, or I would.”

“I know,” she replied before frowning playfully, “Now go back and enjoy your party. Both of you.”

“Only if you come with us,” Oriana chimed in and Fergus nodded.

Liss feigned a sigh, and relented. She would not let Arl Howe or an army of rumors get the better of her. They were small and insignificant, especially with her family by her side.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #howesland #temperance #my writing #update #GOT STARTED OUT WITH A BANG #L-WORD BEFORE THE CUT WHAT

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allisondraste · 6 years ago

Text

Temperance (7/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Chapter Summary: Liss and Alistair make a routine trip to the market that is anything but routine.

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Denerim, 9:31 Dragon

It had only been a month since Liss arrived at the capital, yet it felt more and more like home each passing day. Perhaps it was simply that she had little time to think about how she wasn’t in Highever. After all, Ferelden was recovering from a Blight, and the beginnings of a civil war which still brewed beneath the surface. Tensions were high in the Landsmeet, and higher still outside of it. The Queen was a stable and calming influence, but she could only do so much to quell bad blood among the nobility. Betrayal upon betrayal made it difficult to trust. She imagined how hard it would be to repair an alliance between the Couslands and Howes after what had happened.

A smile crossed her lips as she fanned through a stack of death records on the desk before her. She’d thought about it a lot actually, the dissonance between her past and present was an uncomfortable friction that threatened to drive her mad. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that anyone in the family but Rendon would be capable of such atrocities, even if she knew it was very well a possibility. Blood did run thick in Ferelden.

She scanned the top page of impossibly small script, searching for the names of those she knew. Of course the nobility were listed, her parents names, Oriana, Oren. She thanked the Maker the scribe who’d written the documents took care to alphabetize them. As is the case with most wars, the list of casualties among the wealthy and powerful was small. It was the common folk who suffered, soldiers, innocents. Turning the page, she continued down the list, stopping cold with a short gasp as her eyes locked on a name she’d hoped not to see, “Howe, Thomas” written neatly below his father’s. It appeared that the young man served in the King’s Army at Ostagar, and was presumed dead. At least he’d died on the right side, Liss assured herself despite the ache in her chest. At least it wasn’t Nathaniel.

She did not have time to become too consumed with her thoughts, as there was a knock at her door, an impulsive and erratic succession of taps that did not stop until she answered.

“You can come in Ali,” she said cheerfully, blotting at the corners of her eyes with her sleeves hoping to hide the tears. The knocking stopped and the door jiggled in its frame.

“Um, no I can’t,” he shouted, voice muffled by the wood, “Unless, of course you’d like me to bash it down, but I don’t think Queen Anora would like that. Neither would my shoulder, for that matter.”

“Oh.” She shot up, and rushed to the door she hadn’t remembered locking. Unfastening the locks she pulled it open gingerly. Alistair leaned casually against the wall near the door, turning his head to look at her. “Sorry about that. Come in.” She motioned him in with her hand.

“You’ve been busy, I see,” he remarked, squinting to examine the papers on her desk, “Death records?”

“Just some… light reading”, she said with a laugh.

Alistair picked up the documents and thumbed through them, shaking his head. He set them back down without saying a word, but his haunted expression and the crease in his brow spoke volumes. He’d been at Ostagar, too, she remembered, lost his comrades. She should not have been so inconsiderate as to only mourn for herself.

“So,” Liss said, breaking the heavy silence, “What’d you need? I’m sure you didn’t come here so that we could be sad sacks together. Or maybe you did! In that case, feel free to carry on.”

A smile stretched across his lips, a beautiful, crooked smile that one expected to see on roguish characters from all the tales — thieves, assassins, and bards, but never a former almost-Templar. It was too mischievous, too blatantly unrefined. Then again, that’s what she liked most about her new friend. He was a real person, and he wasn’t shy about it. The fact that his smile was genuine was the most attractive thing about him.

“I, uh,” he said, chuckling as if her statement had caught him off guard, “No. Actually. I came here to see if you wanted to come to the market with me. I’m going to take my weapon to the blacksmith. There’s a nasty crack in the blade.”

“You want company to go to the blacksmith?”

“What can I say,” he laughed, “You have such an uplifting presence, my lady.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied skeptically, “And the real reason?”

“I don’t like the new blacksmith,” he answered sheepishly, kicking at the floor with the toe of his boot. “Don’t get me wrong, Wade was… eccentric, but I knew what to expect. This new one… she’s…” He shuddered.

“You’re afraid of the new smith!” She grinned at him, which made him fidget even more. “You want me to rough her up for you?”

“Maker’s Breath, no. She’s twice your size and all muscle,” he explained.

“Sounds like my kind of woman,” Liss said with a wink. “Maybe she’ll rough me up a little.”

“This was a bad idea,” he sighed, bringing his hand to his face. “I’d just rather not be alone while she’s leering at me like I’m her next meal.”

Liss opened her mouth to speak, but Alistair interjected. “If you say that you wouldn’t mind being her next meal, I’m going to throw myself into the forge when we get there.”

“That‘s dramatic.” She offered him her best scowl, despite the grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s warranted,” he replied with a shrug, “Anyway, do you want to come, or not?”

“Yes, I think I could use a break.” Liss stepped forward and looped her arm through his, causing Alistair to stiffen, muscles tightening at her touch. She pulled away, immediately embarrassed by her accidental disregard for boundaries. “I’m so sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured her with a laugh that didn’t quite mask his discomfort, “I’m just jumpy, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod, offering his arm to her again, “Shall we?”

Smiling, she accepted, and they walked side by side, arm in arm out of the castle and to the Market District.

The center square of the market, in its typical fashion, bustled with the activities of merchants and shoppers. It was late-afternoon and vendors stood at kiosks announcing their wares to anyone who’d listen. Women with Orlesian accents attempted to pull Liss aside to sell her floral-scented perfumes and hair products. When she declined, they spoke to each other in their native tongue, commenting on her appearance.

“Si vous étiez plus gentilles, peut-être auriez-vous plus de clients,” Liss remarked pointedly. It caused a satisfying look of stunned horror from the women.

“I didn’t know you spoke Orlesian.”Alistair raised his eyebrows, obviously amused. “I only know a few words in Antivan, but I don’t think I should say them I polite company. What was that about?”

“They called me fat and unrefined,” she answered nonchalantly, loud enough for the women to hear, “For people who claim to be so cultured, they certainly have poor manners.”

Alistair stalled and turned abruptly to face her, taking her shoulders in his hands. “That’s what they said to you?” His brow was furrowed deeply, a frown forming on his lips.

“‘Mhmm.”

“They’re wrong,” he said with a measure of decisiveness in his voice. “You know that right?”

“Don’t worry. It takes a lot more than a couple of insults to get to me.” She smiled, and reached up to tousle his hair, causing him to scowl and pull away from her to smooth it back down.

“Hey, easy with the hair,” he grumbled, “You’re lucky I like you.”

His scowl softened into a smile as their eyes met, lingering on one another for longer than typical, long enough that her heart fluttered and heat crawled to her cheeks. Alistair must have felt the same, as he darted his eyes away quickly, straightened his posture, and cleared his throat. Liss looked toward the ground to hide her smile. His embarrassment was endearing, but she didn’t want to make him self-conscious about it.

“So,” she said, interrupting the silence, “Blacksmith?”

“Maker, yes,” Alistair answered, “I mean, not that this was... I mean. Damn, words.”

“Blacksmith,” Liss said again, a statement rather than a question. She grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her.

Much had changed about the smithy since Master Wade and Herren departed. The shop was tidy and organized, each of the materials having their own place, each weapon and piece of armor sorted. It even smelled better, or perhaps she was just imagining that it smelled better.

As Alistair had mentioned, a woman stood at the forge, dark skin glistening with sweat in the firelight. She was beautiful, with brown eyes and muscular arms. She was intimidating, sure, but not in the way she’d figured. She had no harsh features, nor even an expression that elicited fear. She was simply quiet and good at what she did.

“Ah, Warden Alistair, back again” the smith said looking up at them. She had a bright smile and the unmistakable Antivan accent.“You are hard on your equipment. It is almost if you are damaging your things on purpose.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alistair protested, crossing his arms, “Why would I do that?”

“To have a reason to see me, of course.” She flashed another grin and Alistair spluttered. The smith laughed and turned her attention to Liss. “Your friend is easy to fluster, Lady Cousland. I wonder, are all Ferledan people so finicky?”

“Just the men,” Liss answered playfully, gently elbowing Alistair before crossing her arms, “How did you know my name?”

“I know many things,” the smith answered as if it were as simple as that.

“Right, well, I feel at an incredible disadvantage. You know my name, but I know nothing about you, except that you are a blacksmith.”

“My name is Bria, my lady.” The woman seemed genuinely touched that Liss cared to ask her name. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”

“Finally?”

“Alistair here has spoken a great deal about you.”

Liss felt the heat in her face again as she looked between Bria and Alistair helplessly. Alistair, in an atypical manner for himself, did not seem bothered by the comment. Instead he smiled that crooked smile. What did he know that she didn’t?

“It seems it is not just the men after all.” Bria chuckled and sat her hammer down moving to reach for something behind the counter. When she straightened up, she held a broadsword in her hands. The handle was white gold with delicate laurel branch filigree. She extended it toward Liss.

“Is this,” Liss began, the words catching in her throat as tears bubbled in her eyes. She took the sword in her hands, tracing the laurel branch patterns with her thumb before pulling it from its sheath to examine the blade. It sparkled in the warm light of the smithy. The entire blade was new and in better shape than she remembered, but it was unmistakable nonetheless.

Liss returned the sword to its sheath and held it across her palms as if it were sacred. It was sacred. The sword was one her father had commissioned as a gift for her eighteenth birthday. She assumed it to to be lost or destroyed after Rendon Howe’s forces seized the castle. She told herself it was gone along with her family, yet there she stood holding her treasured sword in her hands once again. She struggled to form coherent thoughts, let alone words.

“This is mine.” She finally managed to force words past the lump in her throat. “Where? How?”

Alistair smiled in a way that made his eyes squint slightly. “Howe, actually. The sword was among the Arl’s personal belongings left in his estate here in Denerim. Queen Anora said she thought it belonged to your family, but it was in poor shape. I didn’t want to return a broken sword to you, so I brought it to Bria. I hope you don’t mind.”

Unable to contain them further, tears dropped from Liss’ eyes and rolled down her cheeks as her grip tightened around the sword.

“You’re upset,” Alistair said apologetically, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “I should have just-.”

“I’m not upset,” Liss interrupted abruptly, shaking her head and looking up to meet his gaze, then over toward Bria. “I’m just… speechless. Thank you both.”

“It is a beautiful sword,” Bria replied, “It was my pleasure.”

Alistair just nodded.

It turned out that his reason for the trip to the smithy was not entirely false. He actually did have a crack in his sword, and Bria really did terrify him despite their friendly rapport. She was kind enough, but there was something unsettling about her. It was as if she did not belong in a smithy. She was too smart, too charismatic, and overall too well-adjusted. Then again, perhaps she was just Antivan. They always seemed to have their lives together even when they didn’t. Living in a country run by a guild of assassins would require that a person be adaptable, she figured.

It was a quiet return trip to the castle, all the words that could have been spoken between Alistair and herself felt too personal to speak in the open air of the Denerim streets. She wasn’t certain how to take his affectionate gestures. He was very charming, enough to catch her attention, yet when she returned the sentiment he froze up. It was almost as if he didn’t realize he was flirting at all. What an interesting man he was, and she knew so very little about his life prior to his time since the Blight. He did not talk about the Hero of Ferelden or the war, none of it. Not ever.

As they reached the gates, Alistair, true to his typical evening ritual stopped to speak with the guard at the door.

“Any messages for me today,” he asked as he always did.

“No,” said the guard, annoyed at the unnecessary question.

For the first time Liss saw his expression change at the news, from hopeful to despairing. He tried to hide it behind his smile, but his eyes were sad. He quieted and looked as if he might cry at any moment. It surprised her that she never noticed before. Then again, she’d never thought to pay attention before.

As they entered the gates and through the courtyard toward one of the doors that led to the guest rooms, Liss gathered the courage to prod at Alistair a little, to ask him to open up just a bit.

“Who are you waiting on a message from?” She turned her head slightly to glance at him from the corner of her eye. The lines in his forehead and brow deepened at the question, before he laughed and painted on a smile.

“Nobody, I’m just being responsible,” he answered. It was amazing to watch him hide every ounce of grief she had seen in his face only moments before. He was quite adept. “You know, you should check your messages more. You never know who might try to get in touch with you.”

“First of all,” she said, holding up her index finger in emphasis, “They deliver our messages directly to our rooms. We don’t have to check.”

Alistair opened his mouth as if he intended to defend himself, but Liss held up another finger and continued to speak. “Second of all, I know what it’s like to wait for letters that don’t come, and if you would rather talk about it than hold it all in until you explode, I’m here for you.”

“You have enough to worry about without me whining over things that aren’t important.”

“Alistair,” she reached forward to lay a hand on his arm. “Anything that causes you this much pain isn’t unimportant. We’re friends. Let me be a friend.”

He inhaled a long shaky breath and stared off into the distance. “Alright… but I’m going to need a drink. You probably will, too for that matter, to put up with the grown man crying on your shoulder.”

“I doubt that,” Liss smiled her reassurance. “But I have an entire bottle of rum under my bed.”

“Do even want to ask why you hoard alcohol under your bed? Are you a dragon?”

“It helps with the nightmares… well, it helps me go back to sleep after the nightmares.”

“Oh, right.” Alistair fidgeted uncomfortably.

Liss and Alistair walked to her room, where she crawled under her bed to retrieve the large glass bottle. It was much harder to even squeeze an arm under there than it was as a child when she hid from Papa before bed every night. Taking hold of the bottle, she stood up, popped open the cork, and took a swig before passing it to Alistair who looked stunned by the whole affair.

“Don’t be shy,” she laughed and moved to sit at the table in the corner, motioning for him to sit across from her. He took a drink and followed, flopping down in the chair, buckling from the weight of his own feelings.

“Where do I even start?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“The beginning, if you’re up for it.” She placed her hand on his forearm.

He sighed, leaned forward and took another drink. “Fine. Just remember that you asked.”

#dragon age #dragon age origins #Alistair Therin #cousland #temperance #update #my writing

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allisondraste · 6 years ago

Text

Temperance (1/?)

I am pleased to introduce something that I have been plotting for weeks now! Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/Female, Non-HoF Cousland Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden's Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary: Nathaniel’s return to Vigil’s Keep is more than a rude awakening.

[AO3 LINK]

Vigil's Keep, 9:31 Dragon

The stone floor was cold and hard, unforgiving as the heavy iron bars that held him captive. Grey Warden guards paced about, armored boots clanking against the floor, metal plates scraping together, as the men and women occasionally paused to glare at him judgmentally. They talked about him as if he were not there, calling him a wide array of offensive names. What a lucky bastard he was for being safe and sound in his prison cell while better men than he fell to darkspawn blades and bows outside! He should be thankful for his imprisonment, and for the fact that he was not strung up the moment he was caught. How wonderful his captors were for allowing him to freeze his arse off in his own family’s dungeons for “stealing” things that were his by right! It was so ironic it was painful.

The son of the late Arl Howe, and squire under a trained chevalier in Starkhaven, Nathaniel was not accustomed to being treated as common rabble and especially not a criminal. When word of his father’s death at the hands of the Grey Wardens had reached him in the Free Marches, it had not occurred to him that he would return home to find his father’s murderers rewarded by Queen Anora herself. He had spent an entire month in hiding, plotting the assassination of the Warden-Commander, who he held entirely responsible for his current misery.

Nathaniel tugged at the collar of his shirt, reaching in to pull out a small golden ring that he wore on a chain around his neck. It had been a gift from his sister when they were children, and even then the band had been too tiny for his fingers. It was the only thing he had left of his family, and the only reason he had failed to follow through with his plan. When he arrived in Amaranthine to lay his trap, he remembered Delilah and how she would never approve of such violent and brash behavior. He resigned himself to retrieving a few of his family’s things: heirlooms, letters, small sentimental things that the Wardens would have no use for at all. Unfortunately, he was caught and slammed in the dungeon where he sat as Vigil’s Keep was ambushed by darkspawn.

There was a small commotion as the sound of a door opening at the top of the stairs echoed through the dungeon. Nathaniel’s guards clambered to stand at attention, backs straight and arms at their sides. This was obviously not a routine change of guards or visit from their captain. No, Nathaniel assumed that it was time for his sentencing. At last, he would get to meet the person who murdered his father and destroyed his family face to face.

The woman who appeared in the doorway before him and to whom the guards saluted was not what he had pictured. For as grand a title as “Warden-Commander” and “Hero of Ferelden,” she was small, unimposing, and incredibly young. She could have been more than nineteen or twenty, with piercing blue eyes that appeared much kinder than the dark brows furrowed above them suggested.

“Good thing you’re here, Commander,” one of the guards said before explaining the situation, repeating the same things he had been saying every time a new one of the Warden officers came to gawk at and interrogate him. Nathaniel had refused to give his name or any other information to anyone other than the Warden-Commander. With his family’s reputation as it was, the notion that he may be subjected to further scrutiny was unappealing. He thought it better to wait until closer to his execution to tell anyone who he was.

“Leave me to speak with him, please,” she commanded, her voice gentle yet decisive. The guards saluted again and exited the dungeon, leaving Nathaniel alone with her.

“I can’t say you are what I expected in the great ‘Hero of Ferelden’” he remarked snidely, not caring to feign respect.

“I am not what anyone expected, but I am what they got,” she answered matter-of-factly “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“It does.” He paused briefly. “Though I care little for your titles. I know you as the one who murdered my father.”

“Your father?” Her brows pressed together more deeply as a concerned expression crossed her face.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember my father. It was a war after all, and he was just another casualty.” Nathaniel’s fists balled at his sides as he felt the anger tighten like a vice in his chest. “But why should my whole family have to suffer?”

“I - Um..,” the Warden-Commander shifted uncomfortably where she stood, bringing her arms up to her chest and crossing them, “Who are you?”

“I am Nathaniel Howe, and these are my family’s lands - or at least they were until you showed up.”

“You are Rendon Howe’s son, then.” She seemed to think for a moment before opening her mouth to speak again. “Your father was a traitor.”

“My father,” he spat, ”Served the Hero of River Dane and fought against the Orlesian occupation. He was a hero, and now because of a horde of darkspawn, a petty civil war, and you my family has nothing.”

Nathaniel quieted, looking down at the stone floor that had been his constant companion for the past three days. He knew that his father was an ill-tempered, difficult man for whom many in the arling and even the landsmeet held no love. He knew his father was capable of rashness and poor choices. He may have been a traitor, but Nathaniel was certain that he did so because he believed it was the right thing to do. He always did what he thought was best, even if it was painful.

Nathaniel looked up to meet the Warden-Commander’s gaze again. “I came here to - I thought I was going to kill you, but then I realized all I wanted was to reclaim some of my family’s things. It is all I have left.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth

“I’m sorry,” the Warden-Commander said softly, “You do not belong in this cell.”

“I- What? ” Her words caught him off guard. He was prepared for a public hanging, not an apology. “I just told you that I want you dead.”

“I heard you.” She moved to unlock the door to his cell. “I think I would want someone to blame, too. I’m not that person, but I understand why you would think so.”

“You’re just letting me go?” Nathaniel remained in the cell despite the door being open.

“Not quite. I understand you were difficult to apprehend.”

“I am not without skills,” Nathaniel answered, uncertain where this conversation could possibly lead, “My time spent abroad was not chasing skirts and drinking wine.”

“Then it is lucky for you that the Wardens are not currently in need of a skirt-chaser.” “Pardon?” “I am conscripting you.” It was another matter-of-fact answer from the woman, as if her reasoning was clear as day, despite the fact that it made no sense.

“No. I refuse,” Nathaniel protested, indignant, “I would rather die.”

“You might die, anyway. The Joining often claims the lives of our recruits,” she explained, “But I am not foolish enough to believe that every Howe is the same, and I do not wish you hanged for no reason. Don’t you want a chance to start over? To bring some honor back to your family?” “I.. don’t know.” For a brief moment he allowed the anger and bitterness to fizzle away, truly considering the offer before he spoke “I might try to kill you again. Do you like having Wardens who want you dead?”

The Warden-Commander smirked, dropping her hands to her sides. “We have been alone in this dungeon for a while now. I am unarmed and I just let you out of your cell.” She motioned to the door with her hand. “If you really wanted to kill me, and if you are as skilled as my men tell me you are, you would have done so already.”

“A bold assumption,” Nathaniel remarked dryly, though he knew that she was right. It was easy to fantasize about getting revenge on the big bad Grey Warden who killed his father and invaded his home. It was much harder to stand across from a young woman who offered him mercy and feel the same. She was a person just as he was and just as his father was. It was possible that she, too, could have done no more than what she believed was necessary. The Warden-Commander offered him the benefit of the doubt, and he felt obliged to give her the same courtesy, as much as he resented it.

“I’ll do it,” he asserted, with a nod of the head, even as his stomach churned.

“Good, I’ll get Seneschal Varel, and we can start the ritual as soon as he is able.”

It was not long before the Warden-Commander returned and escorted Nathaniel to the throne room, where the Seneschal stood by the fire pit holding a large silver chalice. Several other wardens who he had not seen yet lined the hall as well, eyeing him with what appeared to be a mixture of suspicion and concern. It was more than a little unnerving.

Nathaniel walked forward to stand by one other recruit, his features sharpened by the light of the shadows. The Seneschal began by explaining the purpose of the Joining. The ritual was held to induct new members into the ranks of the Warden Order, and it required that recruits drink of darkspawn and archdemon blood enchanted with lyrium. It was the source of the Wardens’ power and immunity to the Taint, but it was also their demise if they were not strong enough to withstand the corruption. In the end, it would kill him anyway.

The Wardens in the hall began to speak in unison. “Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry our duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day we will join you.”

“Ser Brendon, please step forward,” the Seneschal said and a young Templar approached, taking the chalice into his hands, “From this day forth, you are a Grey Warden.”

The Templar drank from the chalice and returned it to the Seneschal. For a moment, the hall stood in silence, watching and waiting to see if the man would survive. Suddenly, he fell forward clutching at his throat and gasping for air. The Wardens in the hall watched on, some of them bowing their heads sorrowfully as Ser Brendon stilled, lifeless on the floor. The Warden-Commander offered her apologies to the now-dead Templar and turned her gaze to Nathaniel.

“Nathaniel Howe, please step forward,” The Seneschal announced, his voice hoarse at the loss of the other recruit. Nathaniel inhaled sharply, attempting to calm his nerves, and took hold of the chalice. It was the moment of truth - would he die as the other recruit, his punishment for theft finalized? Or would he live, and have the chance to be a Howe that history may be proud of once again? He did not realize how badly he wished for the latter until he drew the chalice to his lips, taking a small drink of the thick, dark liquid.

The last thing Nathaniel heard before his consciousness faded, were the Seneschal’s words, sounding if they were shouted across a great distance.

“From this day forth, Nathaniel, you are a Grey Warden.”

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #elissa cousland #my writing #my ocs

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