#I introduced stroud to begin with only because anders acted like he knew him in da2 and I wanted them to have met
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Pairing: Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe
Story Summary: Cathain Cousland had been in love with Nathaniel Howe for as long as she can remember. It doesn’t take long after they reunite in Amaranthine to realize she still is.
Chapter Summary: A series of conversations, during a brief respite between fights.
We’re up to 10 chapters! and over 42k words! thank you so much for all the support <3
“I thought this place would be bigger. Grander. The way you spoke of it, I expected a fairy tale castle covered in climbing roses.”
“Of course you did,” Cait said, picking another wildflower out of their basket and weaving the stem with the others. “You’re a romantic. Even when I said ‘Avvar fortress’ and ‘built for function over form’ all you heard was pretty things.”
“I like pretty things. Like your Nathaniel,” Leliana said with a cheeky grin. “He is very handsome, isn’t he? He must take after his mother, no?”
Cait smiled as she placed her completed flower crown on Leliana’s head. “I can’t even imagine how you must have pictured Nate, the way I used to talk about him.”
“He does not quite live up to expectations, that is true.” Their eyes followed Nathaniel, over at their makeshift archery range. He was having what was probably a very dour and taciturn conversation with Loghain and Stroud. “How could he? True love makes everyone appear more magnificent than they really are.”
Cait fought the urge to roll her eyes. True love was a fairy tale. The love she felt for Nathaniel was no greater or more 'true' than the love she had for Leliana, or Fergus, or Anders; it was just a different kind. But they’d been over it before and she didn’t feel like rehashing it today. “It seems like you and our dear General have grown close.”
Leliana laughed her lovely, musical laugh and placed her flower crown on Cait’s head. “For someone whose job demands so much subtlety, you are not very good at it. But it is not like that. Loghain is… a friend. It is more than I expected when we met. It is enough.”
“He gave you the ‘old soldier’ speech, didn’t he?” She did a passable impression of his low, grumbling voice. "‘I’m old enough to be your father, girl. You have better things to do than waste time on an old soldier like me.’ He tried that on me too and I wasn’t even romantically interested in him. But you are, aren’t you? I’m not reading that wrong?” Leliana didn’t answer, just laid her head back on Cait’s shoulder. They both stared up into the canopy of her tree. “I can see why you would be. He’s handsome enough, and charming despite his attempts not to be. Maybe because of his attempts not to be.”
“You find him handsome, do you? I suppose you would.”
Cait shrugged the shoulder that her friend wasn’t leaning on. “I have a type. I’ve learned to accept it. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Caitie,” Leliana said lightly.
Cait shook her head, then had to catch her flower crown as it slid off her head. “You didn’t. You would do the same for me.”
“Do you need me to?”
“No. Nathaniel isn’t the issue in our relationship. I’m the one holding back.” Leliana found her hand and laced their fingers together, a silent show of support. “I’m just not any good at words. I have them, in my head clear as day, but when I try to say them… nothing.”
“You do not need words to show someone you love them. These,” Leliana touched her flower crown, held up their joined hands, “are how you tell me you love me. This is how you prefer to speak to us. I understand because I love you too. He understands too. He has had much more time to learn your language.”
“Maybe, but I want to tell him in his language. He’s… he’s a romantic. Like you.” Cait paused as Leliana giggled. “I know. He’s good at hiding it. I told you none of this, okay?”
“Well, if it were me...” Leliana said, and Cait could hear the ideas already forming in the bard’s head. “Perhaps something big is in order. You are very good at grand gestures. I think I know a good place to start. I will help, it will be fun.”
They didn't make any real effort to get up yet, though. They'd both spent the last few months surrounded by grumpy men and it was nice to be around another woman for a while. Maybe they should get Sigrun and have a girls' night; Cait was sure the three of them could find some trouble to get into, something more fun than their usual brand of trouble.
“Mrow,” a tiny voice said from the tree above them. Cait and Leliana exchanged a glace.
“Hello…?”
“Mreep eek.”
Cait scrambled to her feet to come face to face with a tiny ginger cat on one of the low branches. It was young, in that midway growth stage where its legs and tail were all much too long for the rest of it. Maybe six months old or so. It stared at her with bright green eyes. “Hello, sweetheart. Where did you come from?”
“Eep mrrr.” She reached out a hand and the cat leaned so hard against it that it almost fell out of the tree. She picked it up gingerly and it grabbed onto her shoulders, tiny needle claws digging into her skin. It bumped its face into her chin in a friendly kitty hug.
Leliana giggled. “I see you’ve made another new friend.” She scratched the cat between its ears and Cait almost dropped it as it tried to lean into the new source of attention. “I think he is hungry, poor thing. You take care of him and I will go to my room. I have something for you. I will go get it and see you in your room later.”
After she left, Cait stared at the cat. The cat stared at her, squinting its eyes happily. “I think I know exactly what to do with you, sweetheart. What do you think of mages?”
-------
“Anders, are you awake?” Cait banged on his door. “I have a present for you.” As soon as the door started to open, she held up the little cat.
Anders blinked at her over the cat’s head. His hair was down around his shoulders and he was shirtless; Cait could clearly see his ribs, but he looked much healthier than he had when they’d met. He looked like he had just woke up, even though it was early afternoon.
“Moooow rrp,” said the cat, and Anders’ bleary eyes finally focused on it. He reached forward very slowly and scooped it into his arms. It smooshed its face into his.
“I found him in my tree out in the courtyard,” Cait said, grinning. Anders looked completely smitten; he barely even acknowledged she was there. “He’s yours, if you want him.”
“Mine? You mean I can keep him? Here in the keep?”
“Of course you can.” She scratched the cat on top of its head as it thoroughly inspected Anders hair; seemingly approving, it bumped its face into Anders chin again. “You’re responsible for keeping him fed and happy. If he comes near my dog, Byron will adopt him immediately and try to teach him how to be a good mabari, so maybe keep an eye on where he roams. The rest is up to you.”
Anders walked over to his bed and gently set the cat down, who curled up immediately on his pillow and closed its eyes. He then stalked back to Cait and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. “May I point out that you’re all right?”
She smiled. “Go ahead.”
“You’re all right.” He stared at the cat as it stretched out its front paws, taking up a remarkable amount of space for a half-grown kitten. “Now I guess I need to get you a nice gift, ey?”
Cait stared up at him, confused. “What? No. Of course you don’t. Why would you?”
“No one’s ever just… given me a gift before,” Anders said in the smallest voice she’d ever heard from him.
“Anders, you’re my friend.” She hugged him again. She wanted to hold him until he understood what the meant and understood that she meant it. “You’re family. This isn’t some kind of one-upmanship. If you want to think of it that way, think of it as thanks for saving my life. Or thanks for being obnoxious and pushing Nathaniel and I together again.”
He was quiet for a very long time before he nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Caitie.”
“Can I make a request, though?”
“Anything.”
“Give that cat the most ridiculous blighted name you can think of.”
Anders grinned. “I think I have some ideas.”
-------
Her room had been empty when she returned. No Leliana, no Nathaniel, just Byron napping in the sun. She'd waited a while, but the bard had never come around, so Cait went down to the training cellar, hoping to hit things until she could think straight.
Grand gestures, Leliana had said. She could do that. She just hoped it didn't backfire.
They still hadn't set up any decent combat dummies, so Cait walked through a few basic training drills to warm up. Then she worked her way through a series of push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and lunges, just trying to work up a sweat and get her heart rate up.
“I should have known I'd find you down here,” Loghain's quiet, amused voice said behind her. “Nice to know you aren't letting yourself get complacent now that you've got a roof and a title over your head.”
“I am hiding from my emotions,” Cait said honestly, dropping from the hanging bar to land toe to toe with the former teryn.
“Would you like some company?”
She picked up a sword and shield and he grabbed a pair of daggers, switching roles to keep them both out of their comfort zones. They already knew who would win in a normal fight, after all, and they both still bore the scars from it.
Cait felt off balance, the shield much heavier and less maneuverable than she was used to. The daggers looked comically small in Loghain's large hands.
She swung her sword, in much too wide an arc. Loghain parried easily. “So what are you hiding from?” she asked bluntly.
“They spotted a woman matching the description of the marsh witch at the border to Orlais,” he said, swinging at her but missing entirely, used to a longer blade. “Heavy with child.”
Cait paused. Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. Loghain slapped the flat of a dagger to her shield arm and the shock of pain brought her back to the present. “Morrigan is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. Chances are we'll never see her or her child again. We're both alive. Concentrate on that.”
He laughed dryly. “I have missed your unique brand of optimism while I've been away.” His tone changed to that of a patient instructor. Ever the general, even here. “Try switching the shield to your right arm. You're left hand dominant, you'll feel less off balance with your sword there.”
She did as he suggested, rolling her shoulders to loosen them up and adjust her footing. “You're right, that does feel better.” When she pressed the attack again, she was quicker, less clumsy.
“I've spoken at length with your Howe,” Loghain said, moving close to try and get past her guard.
Cait kept her shield resolutely between them. “He has a name, you know.”
He smiled a little, looking much more relaxed now that they were alone. “Yes, but you still knew who I was talking about.”
“And?”
“And I think if I'd had him at my side instead of his father, I would have had a much more successful campaign during the Blight,” he said wryly.
“If you'd had him at your side instead of his father, you and I would never have been enemies.” She swung her sword again, but was much too slow.
“Indeed.” He watched her face, easily sidestepping and ignoring her attempts at attacking. “He asked for my blessing to marry you.”
“He what?” Cait's sword clattered to the floor. Loghain dropped his combat stance until she picked it back up. "That's cheating, Loghain," she snapped. "A low blow."
He wasn't impressed or intimidated by her display. "Maybe you shouldn't expose your weak points quite so obviously."
She finally lifted her sword again. “I--Shouldn't he have asked Fergus? He's my only living blood family.”
“Perhaps.” Loghain waited until she was clearly ready before stepping forward to harrow her again. “When's the last time you spoke with your brother?”
“The coronation,” Cait said, half-hiding behind the shield. “I see your point, I guess you would be my closest family, these days.”
“Is that what we are?”
“Aren’t we?” Loghain's expression didn't change, but there was a softness around his eyes that hadn't been there before. “So what did you tell him?”
“That he had my blessing for as long as he makes you happy. That I know several very skilled assassins if he ever stopped.” He hit her shield a certain way and her whole arm went numb. “But I assume that’s what you’re down here hiding from.”
“You assume correctly.” Loghain sliced forward with a dagger and her sword clattered to the ground again. He picked it up and handed it back. As they started over, she said, “Do you ever feel like an impostor? Like every positive thing anyone sees in you is just… window dressing? Like you’ve fooled them into thinking you’re a good person and it’s only a matter of time until you slip up and they see through it?”
“You’re too young to be so jaded, Cait,” he said, disarming her again easily. She held up her hands in surrender. “Even at your absolute worst, you’re still a better person than most. You’ll never have a normal life, but you can still have a little normalcy in it. That’s what Howe is offering you.”
He helped her unstrap her shield and stayed close, studying her with that intense stare that she found so intimidating when they first met. Maybe she still found it a little intimidating. Loghain continued, “If you don’t mind a bit of advice from someone who’s been where you are: take it. Be happy in spite of the burdens placed on you.”
“I wish you’d take your own advice,” Cait whispered.
“Cait…”
“At least take her to dinner or something, Loghain. Give her a chance.” Cait knew how petulant she sounded, but she didn’t care. “She's an amazing woman, and you'd be good for each other.”
Loghain scoffed and turned away under the pretense of putting the weapons away. “She's barely older than my daughter.”
“Anora would absolutely be agreeing with me if she were here.” She followed him across the room, not letting him escape that easily.
“She's Orlesian,” he sneered.
“Loghain…”
He finally turned back to face her. “She deserves better than me.”
“Maybe,” Cait said plainly. “But she wants you.”
“She told you that, did she,” Loghain muttered, but he looked pleased at the thought.
Cait was pretty sure if she hugged him she'd start crying, the torrent of emotions rolling in her belly finding the only outlet they could. Instead, she laid her hand on his arm, thumb resting over a knot of scar tissue just above his elbow. He sighed, a small, frustrated sound, and found the matching scar on her arm from the same fight.
Friendship forged in blood and pain. Maybe she was good at grand gestures. Maybe Leliana understood her more than she gave her credit for.
She smiled at him, starting to finally feel calm again, and said, “Maybe it’s time for us old soldiers to stop running from the chance at a little peace.”
-------
She ran into Leliana in the hall on the way back to her room, who held out a small box for her. "It's a gift from the Drydens. They said you would find a use for it. I think I have an idea, but let us see if we are thinking the same."
Cait opened the box and stared at its contents in awe. "I know exactly what you're thinking," she said. She pulled Leliana into a hug. "It's perfect. Thank you."
"You are so welcome."
"I actually have something for you too. Will you come with me a moment?" She grabbed Leliana's hand before she could answer and pulled her along.
They made a quick stop at Wade's forge. He was hammering out a sword, but stopped as soon as they approached, visibly grateful for the distraction. When Cait said “I have a commission for you!” in a sing-song voice, he even looked a little excited. She left the box and a down payment, as well as a promise for double the pay if he and Harren kept it secret, and then she took Leliana’s hand again and led her back inside.
Nathaniel was in her room again when they walked in. He sat at the little desk under the window, a quill in hand and Byron asleep on his feet. His hair was down and loose around his shoulders and his bow was propped up in the corner by her armor stand and it was all so unexpectedly, breathtakingly domestic that Cait couldn’t help pause in the doorway and stare.
Then Leliana elbowed her in the back and Byron barked happily when he spotted her and the moment was lost. She stepped into the room, Leliana on her heels. “Sorry to bother you. We’ll be out of your hair in just a moment.”
“Cait, it’s your room,” Nathaniel chuckled. “If I didn’t want you in my hair, I could go to my own room, couldn’t I?” He grabbed her arm as she moved past and pulled her back to him. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon.” She kissed the top of his head, then squirmed free to get back on task. She found her bags in the corner by the bed and dug through until she found what she was looking for.
Cait held the green-gemmed ring out to Leliana. “I think this is supposed to be yours.”
“It’s… lovely,” Leliana said slowly, studying the ring. “What is it for, exactly?”
“A pretty thing with a sad, romantic story attached.” Cait told an abbreviated version of their trip to Blackmarsh, of the scavenger hunt with the ring and the note at the end and the villagers, trapped in the Fade for decades. “I know how cheesy this sounds, but I think I was meant to bring it to you. To tell you their story so you could carry it with you.”
Leliana grinned playfully. “You’re right. That does sound cheesy,” she said, but she put on the ring. “I hope they are together, wherever they are now.”
“That’s what I said,” Nate said softly.
“Good,” Leliana laughed. “Then I do not have to worry that Cait will get too serious and grumpy without me here.”
“You like serious and grumpy,” Cait pointed out.
“I have a type. I have learned to accept it.” Leliana gave Cait a quick hug. “I should go find your General. He is likely to find something reckless to do so he doesn’t have to think about his feelings, no?”
“I can see why you and he get along so well,” Nathaniel said dryly. “So much in common.”
After Leliana left, Nate turned back to the desk and Cait tried not to go back to staring at him. She busied herself sorting through the pile of now clean and dry clothes on her bed and putting them away. A remarkable number of them weren’t her clothes.
"Do you even use your room anymore?" Cait said softly, putting another of his shirts on a hanger and putting it in the closet. "Maybe we should just move all of your stuff in here."
Nathaniel turned to look at her. "I can’t tell if you’re joking or not."
"I’m not. But we can pretend I am if you’d prefer." She gave up the pretense and walked over behind his chair and sliding her arms around his shoulders. “What’re you writing?”
“Calling in some favors from my time up north. Trying to find some information about the Architect or any historical mentions of talking darkspawn.” He leaned against her and took her hand, holding it over his heart. “The First Warden is understandably slow to share information with me, but the Wardens can’t be the only ones with records dating back that far. I know a girl in Kirkwall, Charade, who has contacts as far north as Tevinter. Told her I’d help her track someone down if she did the same for me.” He tapped the top sheet of paper and added, “This one’s to Delilah. I promised I’d keep in touch.”
“I should probably write to Fergus,” Cait said with a sigh. “He’ll ask me to come visit him. I’m not ready.”
“Have you been back to Highever at all?” He turned his chair around and pulled her close. Sitting down, he was still barely shorter than she was standing.
She shook her head. “Not since Duncan dragged me out. I just… I can’t.”
“I understand.” Nathaniel touched his forehead to hers. “I could go with you, if you want. Once you're ready. Assuming Fergus would even let a Howe through the gates.”
He was probably right. Cait wasn’t even sure Fergus really wanted to see her either; she knew he blamed her at least a little for the deaths of their parents, of his wife and son. As if she wouldn’t bring them back in a heartbeat if she could.
“He’ll come around,” was all she said, “sooner or later.”
“That’s more patient than I would normally expect from you,” he said.
“Yes, well, I had a good day. I’m feeling a bit generous.” She tilted his head up so she could kiss him. “Don’t worry, I plan to go back to being obtuse and difficult first thing in the morning.”
“I’d better take advantage of it while I can, then.”
-------
She ran into Stroud in the hall the next morning on the way to breakfast. "Good morning, Ser Stroud."
"Good morning, Warden-Commander. Might I take a moment of your time?"
“Of course. Do you want to take a walk?” she gestured down the hall and fell into step next to him.
“As you wish.” He didn’t say another word until they were outside. Stroud kept his hands clasped behind his back, every movement poised and professional, and Cait found herself mimicking his posture as they walked. “You have done good work here, Commander. Especially considering the… unique circumstances surrounding your recruitment.”
She nodded her head in a small bow. “Thank you, Ser Stroud.”
“Call me Jean-Marc.”
“Only if you’ll call me Cait,” she said with a smile.
His mustache twitched. “On second thought, perhaps just Stroud will do.”
Cait laughed. “So you do have a sense of humor after all. What was it you wished to discuss?”
They turned a corner, moving farther away from the forge and the crowds in the courtyard. Stroud spoke in a hushed voice to discourage eavesdroppers. “Have you had any direct contact with this Architect?”
Cait shook her head. “No. Just minions.”
“I have been reading your reports and these confrontations you’ve been having do not seem accidental.” He pulled her to a stop behind a half-repaired wall, dark eyes somber and intense. “I think the Architect, whatever it is, is targeting you specifically.”
She thought about that for a moment. “Targeting me, or targeting the Commander? Because the Commander could be anyone. If I were to walk away tomorrow and leave for… I don’t know, vacation in Antiva, would I meet talking darkspawn there or would they be the new Commander’s problem?”
Stroud’s mustache twitched again. Cait was starting to suspect he had it so people couldn’t read his expressions. “Are you planning a vacation to Antiva, Commander?”
They started walking again. “No. But if they're targeting the Commander of the Grey, the Architect has a grudge against Wardens and is just trying to cut off the snake’s head, as it were. If they're targeting me, it’s for something I’ve personally done.” She shrugged. “And since I’m not the one who killed the archdemon, I don’t know what else they could possibly want with me.”
Stroud was quiet for a long time. “I hadn’t considered that. I don’t think I like the implications either way.” A merchant cart came barreling down the road toward them, and they stepped to the side to let it past. Once it was gone, he continued, “I’m concerned about the way his subordinates keep finding you. How did they know you would go to the Blackmarsh? To Kal’Hirol?”
Cait’s blood ran cold. “You don’t think there’s a spy here, do you?”
“Not among your Wardens. I have spoken to all of them. Their loyalty is not in question. Neither is that of your seneschal,” he said, and Cait deflated with relief; she knew that her people could be trusted, but convincing a man like Stroud of that would be impossible if he’d decided otherwise. He was still talking, seemingly not noticing her momentary distraction. “I’ve heard rumors of a conspiracy against you.”
She heard what he was trying to infer. “You think Esmerelle is working for the darkspawn?”
“Or perhaps they work for her.”
“Esmerelle isn’t smart enough to be the Architect,” Cait sneered. “Unless someone hired her, too, to try and split my attention. Blight and damnation, I don’t like the connotations there, but… I’ll look into it. That would be my blighted luck, wouldn’t it?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Stroud.”
“You are welcome, Commander.” They walked for a while in silence. “I will be heading back to the Free Marches soon, I think. You have things well in hand here.”
Cait had figured he wouldn’t be staying long, but she was surprised that she was a bit sad to see him go. Curious and knowing she might not get a chance to ask later, she asked, “What’s your job like up north?”
“Scouting, mostly. There are several places where the Deep Roads open directly to the surface, like at Kal’Hirol. We patrol to make sure the darkspawn don’t try to amass at any of them.” Stroud’s mustache twitched again. He was clearly proud of his work. “I do some recruiting as well. A lot of promising people come to and from the Marcher cities.” He paused, then added, “Perhaps I will start sending them your way instead of to Orlais.”
Cait smiled. “If I find any promising scouts, I’ll send them your way.”
“Thank you, Commander.” As they turned to head back to the keep, Stroud continued, “Sigrun in particular shows great promise, if she would be amenable. After this Architect business is concluded, of course.”
Her gut reaction was to say no, but she stopped to think about it. Even with this Architect stuff, it was pretty quiet in Ferelden on the darkspawn front. Sigrun would get bored with too much downtime between fights. She conceded, “I’ll talk to her about it. The decision would be hers ultimately.”
“Of course.” Stroud watched her closely as he said, “Lord Howe would be of considerable use as well.”
“I’m sure he would,” Cait said, fighting hard not to sound hostile. “He and I are a package deal, however.”
He huffed, a sound dangerously close to a laugh. “If I am honest, you would be a boon to my work too. A woman of your talents is wasted on paperwork. But that is not up to either of us, is it.”
“I suppose it isn’t,” she said, relaxing a little.
“Thank you for your time, and for your hospitality,” Stroud said, and after a very long pause added, “Cait.”
“The honor was mine, Jean-Marc,” Cait grinned, only tripping over his name a little. “I hope we get to work together in the future.”
“As do I.”
#nathaniel howe#cousland/nathaniel howe#dragon age#dragon age awakening#dragon age fic#cait cousland#cait/nate#rhi writes#something might be found#no action this chapter! just a bunch of chatting#background loghain/leliana#because I love my pairings as rare as possible apparently#I introduced stroud to begin with only because anders acted like he knew him in da2 and I wanted them to have met#but uh I love him and I'm sad he's leaving
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