#fergus cousland x nathaniel howe
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DAO/DAA — Fereldan Nobility
Fergus Cousland & Nathaniel Howe... 🏳️🌈👀
I dunno, I had insomnia and thought this was a cute ship and now it's canon in my World State lmao
Hair alt & original sketch
#dragon age#fanart#dragon age fanart#da#daa#dao#dragon age origins#dragon age awakening#nathaniel howe#fergus cousland#fergus cousland x nathaniel howe#cousland#howe
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One-word prompts: Cake
Heather finally slips a morsel of cake into her mouth. The spongy texture and delicate cream are every bit as delicious as she hoped they’d be—
“Happy sixteenth birthday, Heather.”
Her moment of enjoyment ruined, she steels her disgruntled expression back into a semblance of politeness before setting down her plate and turning around. “Thank you, Nathaniel. If you’re looking for Fergus, I last saw him entertaining a small crowd near the mulled wine table.”
“I was looking for you, actually.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because it’s your birthday, too?”
“Oh. Well, you found me.” Now leave me alone with my cake!
He fidgets for a moment, gaze turned downward. Maybe he’s lost without a bow. Then he holds out his hand, a small pouch in his palm. “For you.”
Heather blinks and opens the pouch to find a bar of high-quality bowstring wax inside. “Oh, wow. Thank you.”
He’s still fidgeting. She arches an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“I’m… I’m glad you like it.” He leans close to kiss her cheek and then dashes away.
Cake temporarily forgotten, she stares at nothing as she tries to decipher meaning from the lingering pressure of his lips on her skin.
#Heather Cousland#non-Warden OC#dragon age fanfic#Heather's one-word prompts#Day 8: Cake#worldstate: Autumn Ice#Cousland x Nathaniel Howe#awkward teenagers (Heather and Fergus are twins in this worldstate)
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How about M!Warden/Zevran and quiet, cozy nights for dadwc :D
Happy Friday! For @dadrunkwriting. Here is Malcolm Cousland x Zevran for a quiet night. Zevran actually being a sweet, thoughtful partner. Malcolm being his adorably goofy self. Nice to see a Hero of Ferelden that doesn't take themselves so seriously.
Content Warning: cozy, sweet, a tad bit sad in some parts especially near the end but not "crying buckets sad" Length: ~1.2k words
Malcolm looked out the window that faced the courtyard in Highever castle and smiled as he saw the hustle and bustle winding down for the day. He’d stayed on to help Fergus rebuild their home and then he was going on his own quest. Ferelden had a band of Wardens again and Vigil’s Keep ran smoothly even when he wasn’t there. Malcolm had to search for a cure. He couldn’t tolerate the thought that he would leave Zevran before they were both old and gray.
Malcolm spotted a familiar head of blond headed towards a merchant and was curious. What did Zevran need a merchant for? Malcolm pressed his face against the glass, and he debated asking Fergus about the merchant. His older brother was so lovingly exasperated with him and it showed. Andraste’s tits, just be direct Malcolm. No need to jump through a million different hoops to arrive at a destination three feet away. Malcolm knew it was easy for Fergus, but his tongue decided to tie itself into a knot anytime he wanted to ask or say something so direct. The fear of rejection or being ridiculed was choking at times. So, Malcolm preferred to wait until someone decided to tell him on their own. Except, the curiosity was eating him up inside.
“Just go and ask for Maker’s sake.” Fergus huffed from his desk. “You are going to be the one to explain why there are smudges on my window. I’ll not take the tongue lashing for you this time.” Malcolm glared over his shoulder at his older brother before returning his attention to the courtyard, but Zevran was already gone. His shoulders slumped and Fergus rolled his eyes. He absolutely tried his best to be encouraging to Malcolm, but his brother was trapped within a reality of his own making.
“Where are you going?” Malcolm asked when Fergus stood.
“Now that is none of your business baby brother.” Malcolm swatted at his hand when Fergus poked his forehead. They were opposite in their coloring; Fergus took after their father while Malcolm favored their mother’s side of the family. Fergus disappeared through the door and Malcolm quietly mocked his older brother. “I heard that.” Malcolm froze at those words but shook his head. Brothers.
That Evening
Malcolm studied his correspondence with Vigil’s Keep. Nathaniel was making excellent progress with growing their numbers and influence. He had thought it prudent to leave Nathaniel there as he was still a Howe. Despite what happened during the Blight, many people still looked up to and respected the Howe name. He looked up as the door opened and Zevran slipped in holding a bottle of wine and a small bundle tucked under his arm.
“You’re awake. Good.” Zevran smiled as he set the bottle down by the end table beside the fireplace. “I do not think I will ever get used to such luxury.” He settled down on the soft carpet next to the roaring fire.
“Truly? Seems it suits you just fine.” Zevran smiled from position and stretched with a slight arch to his back. Malcolm followed the movements before setting his eyes back on the papers. Nathaniel would team up with the steward at Vigil’s Keep and then he’d never hear the end of it. “I’m almost done. I’m sorry Zev. I put this off as long as I could.”
“You’re overworking yourself again. Come and sit by the fire with me.” Zevran stretched his hand towards Malcolm. “Simply tell your steward that you were seduced into spending the night with a handsome devil.” Malcolm chuckled as he set his quill down and joined Zevran on the rug. Zevran shifted until his head rested on Malcolm’s thigh.
“I’d give the poor man an apoplectic fit if I told him what I was truly getting up to.” Malcolm smiled when Zevran’s hand reached up to tangle in his hair. Hair that he’d had to crop short after the battle with the Archdemon, but he was slowly growing it back out. He missed the feel of Zevran’s fingers running along his scalp.
“Seems to me that the man could do with a bit more excitement.” He tugged until their lips met in a tender kiss with just a trace of heat. “I do love you.” Malcolm felt his heart stutter and melt at the words. Words he knew were never easily spoken, words he’d once thought he’d never hear. Their road wasn’t smooth by any stretch of the imagination. Two broken people, scared of the word and emotion, coming together to find each other. In a time scattered with war and rife.
“And I you. More than anything.” Malcolm gently laid his lips on Zevran’s forehead, savoring the faint scent of leather and a smell that reminded him of sultry summer nights and exotic wares on the market. Malcolm slowly lifted his head and smiled down at Zevran. He jerked back in shock when Zevran bolted upright.
“I almost forgot!” Malcolm released a shaky breath as Zevran popped to his feet and grabbed the wrapped package off the table. It wasn’t big, which was intriguing enough, but the shape of the gift was square.
“What is this?” Malcolm asked when Zevran handed it over to him.
“Happy birthday my love.” Malcolm stared at him in disbelief. “Did you truly forget your birthday?”
“I. I guess I did. I never really bothered with my birthday, it’s just another ordinary day to me.” Malcolm murmured as he ran his fingers over the front of the package.
“Well, no longer. I intend to make sure you enjoy every birthday going forward. Now please, I want you to open it.” Zevran placed his hand on the wrapping paper and Malcolm chuckled.
“Alright, alright. I’ll open it.” The paper fell away, and the breath lodged in Malcolm’s throat. His family stared back at him from the canvas. He traced his mother’s lips up to the curled buns at the back of her head. Bryce stood beside her with a dignified smile on his face. He saw himself and Fergus there beside them and…
“Oren.” Malcolm choked on the hiccup that disguised his sobs. His baby nephew. A truly innocent victim in Arl How’s mad ambitions. His death tore Malcolm to shreds with guilt. He’d promised the boy that he’d train him on the sword starting the day after. “How?” Malcolm looked up at Zevran with eyes wet from tears.
“There were a few portraits that remained unharmed throughout the years. I also hired an artist that knew your family quite well.” Zevran reached out and brushed the tears off his cheeks. “I did not mean for my gift to upset you.”
“I’m not upset, not really. You gave a piece of my family back to me. A piece I thought had long been lost.” Malcolm whispered as he stared down at the portrait in his hands. Zevran sat beside him as he set the painting against the table. “After Howe set fire to the castle, we didn’t think any paintings survived. This means the world to me Zevran. Thank you.” Zevran smiled at him and offered a glass of wine to him.
“Shall we toast to a glorious birthday? I’ll give you your other present tonight.” Malcolm choked on the wine as unbridled thoughts came to his mind given that sultry tone of voice. Zevran merely chuckled and gave him that mysterious smile that told Malcolm he did it on purpose. The man lived to torment him like that.
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prompt me!!
This Week's Interests
No Veilguard yet!
I played DA2, so let me in!!! Handers, Fenhawke, Merribela, Carver x Cullen, Carver x Nathaniel Howe, Bethany x Nathaniel Howe, Zevhawke, Merrill x Hawke, Hawke + Companions polycule.
Been sitting on my Dadquisition AU, which is a Cousland Inquisitor x Dorian with children from a previous marriage.
For AU fun, I've been rotating the coffee shop au in my brain. But, its spooky season so vampire and zombie aus are also go >:]
Things I Write
PC ships will use my OCs unless another name or OC is specified.
Fave Ships: Zevwarden, Dorian x Inquisitor, Cullen x Inquisitor, Alistair x Warden, Cullistair, Teagan x Warden, Dorian x Cullen, The Iron Bull x Inquisitor, Ser Gilmore x Cousland, Duncan x Cailan, Lanaya x Warden, Leliana x Warden, Sigrun x Warden, Maric x Loghain, Duncan x Warden, Krem x Cullen, Josephine x Inquisitor, Finn x Arianne, Dorian x Anders, Handers, Fenhawke, Merribela, Zevistair, Dorian x Krem, Carver x Cullen, Carver x Nathaniel Howe, Bethany x Nathaniel Howe, Rylen x Cullen, Rylen x Krem, Zevhawke, Merrill x Hawke
Fave platonic ships: Alistair & Zevran, Lavellan & Zevran, Shale & Wynne, Ferelden circle besties (Jowan, Anders, Finn, and mage!Warden), Cousland & Ser Gilmore, Vivienne & Dorian, Dorian & Solas, Sera & Cole, Fergus & Nathaniel Howe
Fave Characters/NPCs: Ser Gilmore, Zevran, Alistair, Sten, Oghren, Wynne, Arl Eamon, Anora, Loghain, Duncan, Jowan, Bann Teagan, Irving, Lanaya, Riordan, Lace Harding, Sera, Dorian, The Iron Bull, Cassandra, Varric, Cullen, Leliana, Krem, Nathaniel Howe
Meet my OCs:
(descriptions of them can be found here!)
Rhiannon Amell (they/she)
Ramsay Cousland (any)
Elwyn Lavellan (he/they)
Ariadne Trevelyan (she/her)
Inquisitor!Basileus Cousland (he/him)
Shokra Adaar (they/he)
Prompt Help
anything goes, but no idea what to send? try a fave song lyric, poem, or try one of my prompts!
What to Expect
A little bit fruity
As a big ol' fruit, I'm most likely to write my ships as gay or in some other way queer. So if you want something cishet (or want to explore a specific identity), you'll need to specify.
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Reforged in Dragon’s Fire- Ch 14
New Chapter of the Howe x Cousland fic here! It’s a big one. Happy Holidays :D
...
Phoebe wished she didn’t have to fight Fergus, that she didn’t have to defend Nathaniel, but she had no choice– there weren’t enough Wardens left for her to lose any.
That was the only reason she’d stepped between them.
“I’ll have someone show you, I’ll be there in just a moment,” she promised, gesturing over one of the servants who was watching, wide-eyed. “Come take the Teyrn to my room,” she called, heedless of their actual duties. Everyone needed to do everything right now.
“Don’t be long,” Fergus told her, turning on a heel and storming off with a clank of armor.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, lips thinning as she glanced back at Nathaniel. He met her stare forthrightly, much to her frustration, despite the bloody nose. In silence, like he had been this entire time. If he’d said anything, made any complaint, her anger might have had an actual target. Instead here she was, stuck between two opposing sides with no real outlet for her frustration and anger.
So, as it tended to do, that anger turned around on Nathaniel.
It wasn’t his fault, she knew that, but his father had murdered her nephew and sister– Fergus’ wife and child. And she couldn’t very well be angry at her brother over this. Her disgust with Rendon Howe was welling over, spilling onto him and tainting her view of him, a foul and bitter poison. She didn’t even want to look at him right now, to think about what his family had done to her family– to Fergus.
“Make yourself invisible until Teyrn Cousland departs, Warden Howe,” she snapped.
Phoebe tried to ignore the looks the rest of her Wardens gave her, but they still stung– she was well aware she was being unreasonable.
“How do you propose I do so, Warden Commander?” he inquired, bloody fingers still pinching his nose. “I am no thief, to skulk about.”
“No, I believe you’ve proven you have no skill in that area,” Phoebe agreed snidely. Her earlier thoughts were still in the back of her mind, guiding her tongue, burying her guilt and unease. “The upper keep has been inventoried, lists left as I requested. Find said lists, and mark anything you wish to retain. Everything else will be sold off.”
“I have neither eaten, rested, nor bathed, and you wish me to go…do inventory?” he asked her, lowering his hand. The disbelief was thick in his voice.
Irritated with him for not simply agreeing, she glared. “If you would rather retain nothing from your family’s belongings, go right ahead. Otherwise they will be on a cart and gone come morning.”
Nathaniel fixed her with a cold, flat look. “That is unreasonable.”
“Alas,” she said icily. “I am unreasonable.” Turning around, she stomped off in the direction Fergus had gone, annoyance still simmering.
The moment she’d done it she was ashamed of herself, but the anger kept her moving forward. What was she supposed to do? Fergus deserved his anger, and in a way she wished she could let him end Nathaniel’s life– not because of Nathaniel, the person. But because of what he represented, who his family was, and how having him around hurt her.
There was no point in denying it.
She had finally, finally stopped thinking about Thomas constantly, and now Nathaniel was here and she was here, in Amaranthine, and it was like his ghost was following her. Thomas felt inescapable. Mired in thoughts of his motivations, his feelings, she kept re-examining the scars he had left on her, only to find out they weren’t scars at all.
They were unhealed wounds.
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Temperance (18/?)
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: Teenage Nathaniel has a lot going on in his life, and his return to Highever does not go exactly as he expects it to.
Notes: Thanks all for the patience with my updating. I've been busy these past few weeks, and it's just taken a bit more time than usual! This is a very fun, very dialogue-heavy chapter with a lot of information that'll be important for later, so I hope you all enjoy!
First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]
Highever, 9:21 Dragon
It had been an interesting year for Nathaniel, to say the least. In fact, interesting was a rather positive spin on the things that transpired since his prior visit to Highever. Fergus’ involvement with “that Antivan tart” enraged Father as it effectively ruined his chances of a match between the heir to Highever and Delilah. It was a similar rage to that which he displayed when Teyrn Cousland refused to arrange a marriage between Thomas and Liss. He’d spent much of the year fussing about being “thwarted at every turn.” Perhaps Nathaniel had been too young to understand it before, but he could see now, the alliance between the Howes and Couslands was very much one-sided and based upon conditions. Conditions that were slowly slipping out of his father’s grasping fingers.
It seemed the man’s primary mission in life had become finding suitable matches for all three of his children, including Nathaniel, which was particularly odd considering all previous indications suggested that his father wanted him alone and miserable. “Suitable” also meant that he was still not permitted to pursue Liss, however. His father still held onto hope that Thomas could woo her and Nathaniel was thrust in front of countless minor lords and their beautiful, yet ridiculously passive daughters with personalities like sacks of flour.
It was unfair of him, he knew. They were perfectly lovely young women who he was certain would come out of their flour sacks with time and attention. They just weren’t her. Nobody ever would be. The thought that he might forever be dissatisfied worried him terribly. It also caused him to resent his little brother. Cheerful, handsome, Thomas with his curled ringlets of hair and dark eyes who looked so much like Mother it ached. He did not deserve hard feelings, and Nathaniel was cautious to never show them.
“Nate,” Thomas had asked one day, hovering at the doorway to his room, “Can I talk to you about something?”
Nathaniel sat his book down, and straightened up. “You can always talk to me, Tom.”
“Can we,” he looked down and wrung his hands, an unusual self-conscious state for the boisterous boy, “Go somewhere nobody will hear?”
“I’m sure that if you come in and shut the door nobody will hear. What’s the matter?”
Thomas had just lowered his head somberly and refused to say a word until Nathaniel agreed to walk up to the secluded portion of the battlements with him. He would have told Thomas to find Delilah instead if it hadn’t seemed so urgent. She was better at the whole talking and reassuring thing.
“So,” Nathaniel said with a sigh as he leaned out over the battlements, spring wind rustling his hair. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I supposed to guess?” He smiled to show he was not as irritated as he sounded.
“I don’t want to marry that Cousland girl,” Thomas blurted, slamming his fists on the parapet.
“You wouldn’t be marrying her now, Tom.” He laughed despite the bitterness.
“I don’t want to marry her ever.”
“Why not,” Nathaniel asked, offended and relieved at the same time, “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing,” he explained, “And that’s the problem. She’s beautiful and perfect and I see why you love her, but I don’t think I ever could. Not like that at least.”
“Like what,” Nathaniel teased though he knew what his brother meant and Thomas shot him a look that could have killed.
His brother sighed and slumped forward, elbows on the parapet, face in his hands. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you something, and you can’t tell Father or Delilah or anyone.”
“You have my word.”
“Remember when you told me that you sometimes think that other boys are just as beautiful as girls?” He rose up and fidgeted when Nathaniel nodded.
“Well… I have never seen a girl that I liked in that way, ever. I thought I just hadn’t, you know, seen the right one yet, but…” Thomas trailed off, shook his head, and furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “I just don’t think I like girls.”
“I see,” Nathaniel said with a sympathetic nod.
“I’ll still do what I’m supposed to,” Thomas asserted, lifting his chin proudly, “I’ll marry a pretty girl, have a family, carry on the name. I’ll do as Father asks, but it won’t be with Elissa.”
“Tom.” No fourteen year old boy should have to be thinking about such things. No sixteen year old boy should either. Not really.
“I’m not going to do that to you. Or her. It would just make you both hate me, I think.” He nodded decisively.
“I appreciate that,” Nathaniel said, placing a hand on Thomas’ shoulder and meeting his gaze, “But how in Andraste’s name are you going to keep Father off your arse about it?”
“I will be horribly bad at wooing,” Thomas laughed, “Actually, I might not have to pretend. Father might even ask you to take me under your wing and teach me.”
“You act like I’m some expert or something. I promise you I’m not.”
“Then how come I saw you kissing all those banns’ daughters?” Thomas elbowed him.
“You saw that?” He panicked briefly, attempting to remember which bann’s daughters. They were all the same to him in that they were not Liss. Memorable as kissing washcloths. He was a horrible person.
“You weren’t exactly hiding it, in the middle of the courtyard like that.”
“Well, they offered. It would have been rude to refuse,” Nathaniel said matter-of-factly and then sighed, “I have to make father believe I am at least trying. If he thinks I am holding out to be with Liss… I don’t know that he will let me go back to Highever.”
“Oh. Right.” Thomas frowned. “I think it’s stupid father won’t let you be with her. I don’t know why it needs to be me. You’re the heir. He should let you be the heir.”
“I don’t even know that she would want to be with me,” he answered, shaking his head, “But, thank you, Tom. That means a lot to me.”
That conversation had been just weeks ago, but it still rang so clearly in Nathaniel’s mind as he hopped from the carriage, grabbed his things, and made his way to the gates of Highever’s Castle. Its grey stone walls stood just as they had years ago, stark against the pleasant backdrop of the Waking Sea. It was not nearly as imposing as it had been when he’d first visited. In fact, nothing was as imposing as it had been back then, not even his father.
Thomas’ decision to deceive Father motivated Nathaniel to consider the same. What would be the harm in confessing his feelings to Liss, after all? If she reciprocated, he could explain that it would need to be a secret until he was old enough that he could tell his father where to shove his stupid rules. She would understand, surely. Still, there would always be the danger of them being found out by others and father punishing him, shaming her. There was also the possibility that Liss would not feel the same. Then what? He shook his head, and trudged forward. It didn’t matter considering that he was too much of a bloody coward.
”Ho,” Fergus greeted with a cheerful wave as Nathaniel entered the courtyard through the castle gates, “Welcome back, Nate!”
A woman stood at his side, tall and slender with auburn hair that was braided and decorated with metal pieces that glinted in the sunlight. Her clothing was unusual and far from being practical enough to be of Ferelden make. Fergus’ hand clutched her waist comfortably, as she looked up at him with an almost sickening admiration.
“Fergus,” he called back, closing the distance, and directing his attention to the woman and bowed his head respectfully, “You must be Lady Oriana.”
“I am not a lady,” she replied with a chuckle, her accent thick and charming, “But my Fergus has told me it would be pointless to argue with you about it.”
“Probably,” Nathaniel said, shrugging and smiling.
“That’s just Nate,” Fergus explained, moving away from Oriana and drawing Nathaniel in a brief hug, “He’s like that with everyone. I think he’d be a big hit if he ever visited a brothel.”
“Fergus,” Oriana gasped, scandalized.
“What?” He continued with a laugh despite her bright blue eyes glaring up at him. “I’m just saying he’d make several ‘ladies’ there blush with all that chivalry of his.”
She scolded him again, shaking her head this time and turning her eyes to Nathaniel, “I apologize on his behalf. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Nathaniel laughed, “You’re the one who has to put up with him.”
“Someone has to,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and tousling his hair.
“Damn it, woman,” Fergus grumbled and raked his fingers through his hair to smooth it back down.
“Uh-uh,” Oriana replied, wagging her finger, “According to Nathaniel, I’m a lady. You should address me accordingly.” “‘Damn it, my lady,’ just sounds ridiculous.”
“How is that any different from the rest of the things you say?” Nathaniel chimed in and Oriana laughed.
“I like him,” she exclaimed.
“Unfortunately, so do I,” Fergus remarked dryly.
“Well,” she said, looking between the two of them, “Who am I to keep you from catching up? Besides, I am due for some evening tea with your mother and Elissa.”
“ Maker, don’t keep them waiting. Mum’ll get bored and pick a fight, and Liss will stomp off to her room crying.”
“If your sister even shows up.” Oriana frowned and looked down at the ground, kicking at the grass.
“She will,” Fergus said softly, tilting her chin up and kissing her briefly on the lips. It was both endearing and annoying. ”She gave me her word.”
With that, Oriana turned and headed toward the entrance to the main hall, Fergus watching her proudly as she left. He turned to Nathaniel, scowl painting his face as soon as she was out of sight.
“I hope Liss shows up,” he remarked tersely, bringing his hand to his face. “She’s always loved older girls, looked up to them. Now, there’s one that’s actually important to me, and she doesn’t seem to like her.”
“That’s not it.” Nathaniel shook his head, recalling a conversation he had with her the previous summer.
“Oh?”
“She’s worried that you are going to forget about her, now that you’re in love.”
“That’s… dumb. I would never! She’s my sister, for Andraste’s sake. Why would she think that?”
“Maybe because you forgot to write to her while you were away.”
“I did, didn’t I,” he asked wistfully, “I was just...er, distracted.”
“Right. Of course,” Nathaniel laughed, “She made me promise I wouldn’t forget about her, when I fall in love, too.”
“Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?” Fergus tilted his head to the side and looked at him with a concerned expression.
Nathaniel just shrugged and Fergus seemed to accept that as an answer as he didn’t press further. Instead, he changed the subject, sharing stories from his summer away in Antiva to meet Oriana’s family. He spoke very briefly about the country and her family, choosing to save the painstaking detail for the things he and Oriana had and had not done while they were there and since they’ve been back, and Nathaniel could have done without knowing most of it. Still, he wasn’t going to interrupt.
Eventually, the conversation dwindled and Nathaniel parted with Fergus, tired from the long trip, and desperately wanting to drop his things down on the floor in his room and flop face first into the bed. He’d speak with everyone else in the morning.
Turning the knob and pushing open the heavy wooden door with his shoulder, Nathaniel looked up to see that the room was occupied. Rather intimately so, as two very familiar girls sat on the bed, arms wrapped around one another, fingers tangled in hair as they kissed. His heart sank, and he stiffened, clearing his throat to make sure they noticed he was there. He had no right to be upset and yet jealousy boiled under his skin at the sight of Liss and Rila together.
Both girls darted their heads toward Nathaniel with horrified expressions, scooting apart so that they were a polite distance away from one another, what Delilah would have called “leaving enough room for the Maker.”
“N-nate,” Liss said, standing up and straightening her skirt. It was the first time since the first summer that she hadn’t embraced him first thing. Instead, she bit her lip and looked frantically between him and Rila who looked as if she were about to cry. “I’m in your room again.”
“You are,” he acknowledged with a nod, “But don’t let me spoil the fun. I’ll just set my things down and come back later.”
“No, no,” she rushed to him and placed her hands on his arm. “You don’t have to--.”
“Liss,” Rila interrupted, voice strained with emotion, “You promised it would be safe here.”
“It is. It’s just Nate, and he won’t tell anyone,” she insisted, then looked at him with a plea in her eyes, “You won’t tell anyone, right?”
“No,” he said and watched the relief wash over her face. He could not say the same for the elven girl who still looked at them both with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Rila muttered shaking her head and pushing past them to leave the room, “I”m going to… go.”
“Ri! Wait,” Liss called after her, but she didn’t listen, “Ugh.”
Liss sighed and groaned, walking back to Nathaniel’s bed and flopping down backwards, hands pressed into her face. Nathaniel stood frozen in place, not certain what would be appropriate to say or do in such a situation. He only knew that it would be wrong to let his hurt feelings change the way he treated her.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled from beneath her own hands, “I’m stupid and I’m sorry.”
Nathaniel laughed and dared to walk over and sit down on the bed beside her. “You’re not stupid.”
“Oh, but I am. Papa told me you’d be coming today, and I didn’t even think... “ She shook her head. “I’m embarrassed.”
“It’s pretty embarrassing,” Nathaniel echoed, and Liss glared up at him through her fingers. “What? It’s the truth.”
“I’d say it wasn’t what it looked like, but it is exactly what it looked like,” Liss sat up and crossed her legs beneath her. She laughed and shook her head. “What must you think of me?”
“Nothing bad,” he said, unconsciously bringing a hand up to brush a loose curl from her face, but retracting it quickly when he realized what he was doing. “Kissing is nice.”
“It really is,” she explained, “And with all of this Fergus and Oriana stuff, I’ve just felt so lone -- oh no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I was supposed to have tea with Mama and Oriana,” she tapped her forehead with the heel of her hand repeatedly. “I promised Fergus, and I really meant to go this time. I just got… distracted. I should go talk to him.”
“Good idea.”
Liss stood up. “I should also go talk to Rila, shouldn’t I?”
“Probably.”
She nodded at him and smiled, scurrying out the door and closing it behind her. A few seconds passed before the door swung back open and Liss ran back into the room. She threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly, pressing her lips to his cheek and pulling away.
“Welcome back, Nate, ” she said in away that warmed his whole body, “I missed you. We can catch up tomorrow, okay?”
Nathaniel nodded and Liss whirled around and exited the room, leaving him to go to bed as he originally intended. He laid down, closed his eyes, and hoped the numb pain in his chest would go away eventually.
#dragon age#dragon age origins#dragon age awakening#nathaniel howe#nathaniel howe x cousland#cousland#fergus cousland#thomas howe#oriana#temperance#my writing
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My gift from @fergus-cousland for @dasmutquisition, a wonderful Nathaniel Howe x Anders fic.
Something I Can't Get My Head Around
It’s so soft, Anders is terrible with admitting to emotions and Nathaniel is wonderful.
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Injustice
Dragon Age Origins: Awakening Nathaniel Howe/Anders Nathaniel isn’t going to let his friend leave the Wardens without attempting a pursuit. Not either of them. Super dramatic lil scene set soon after Anders and Justice leave the Wardens together. I tried to pull together a few of the different reasons Anders gives in game, in Codexes etc for leaving. Nathaniel x Anders and some minor Nathaniel x Surana. Poor Nathaniel just wants one of the problematic mages he falls for to stay 💔 ~ ⁘ Nathanders forever ⁘ ~ PG. No smut - only broken hearts. @chaos-company‘s Angstpril Day 15. Alternate prompt: Come Back. =====================================
Southern winds never made it this far into the Bannorn. Nathaniel pressed against the gale, small shards of ice slashing at his face as he struggled forwards, each step an act of labour. At his side, his wolf kept its head turned and braced against the storm, but like him, it kept on. “Good boy,” he murmured - it didn't respond to verbal praise like a mabari would, but he spoke to it for his own benefit as much as anything.
They had been tracking their quarry for days now, following the trail down from Amaranthine, deeper and deeper into Ferelden. Nathaniel had no phylactery, no templar methods to find who he sought, but he had his own skills, honed by years squiring and scouting in the Free Marches. He had found Fergus Cousland this way: he would find the healer.
It had only been this last day that the winds began. Buffeted by them head-on, Nathaniel knew it would be near-impossible for his wolf to keep following any scent, and for a while, he imagined it was simply another act of his poor luck that the weather had chosen to contest them. As hail began to whip through it, however, he began to realise this was no no natural storm at all. He knew this cold. He was close.
Encouraged, the Warden-Constable doubled his efforts, pressing harder against the onslaught. If he was right, then they didn't need to follow tracks any longer, they didn't need a scent - they just needed to find the eye of this spell.
Finally, after days of searching and these final hurried minutes of pressing, he saw him: a lone figure through the sleet, tall and slim, a staff at his back and feathered mantle at his shoulders.
"ANDERS!!"
Nathaniel called his name over the storm. The figure stopped and turned.
"Oh, bloody - GO HOME, Howe!"
Nathaniel ignored the instruction, struggling closer until Anders was no longer a grey impression in the wind, but had colours and came into view. His chest ached upon seeing him. Never before had he cared so deeply for someone he could bear so ill.
He expected a sheepish, sickly grin of cheeky apology, some quipped accusation about not being able to keep away from him, but instead, he was met by a face of stone.
"You shouldn't have come, Nate."
Anders' voice was… different, since they'd buried Kristoff's body. Since their mutual friend had sought a new home. Nathaniel had talked Justice into the possibility of finding a living host, but he had never imagined that host would be Anders.
His friend had changed. Something of the man he knew and, in a complex and vexing way, cared for had gone. Not ceased entirely, but had become buried, as though a decade of change had passed rather than a few months.
"You didn't think we could lose you both and do nothing?", he asked, smiling crookedly despite the heaviness within him. It was good to see Anders’ face again. Surely even he would see reason, now that they could talk.
"So you plan to force us to stay!?" The mage’s voice was guarded, sharp, as though he were talking about Circle injustice, not the Wardens caring for their own.
"What?” Nathaniel sounded taken aback and, in his reserved way, heartbroken. “No... Anders - “ “Afraid you won't survive without your healer?”
“Well - yes, quite honestly. But that isn't why I came. You are my friend. You are both my friends. I…” He was not good at talking about emotion. Between his family and his strict tutorship under Ser Rodolphe, there was little time for warmth. And yet, in his way, he wore his pain and sincerity openly as his voice strained to keep its composure. “You are not yourself. I did not think you should be alone."
"I'm leaving,” Anders cut across him, voice hard, hurt and decided, turning to do so. “I do not want to be followed. Do not become one more thing I have to run from." Through its sharp demands, the apostate’s voice was almost pleading.
"If you would at least tell me why -"
The mage spun around: "You made me get rid of my cat!"
"What?!" Of all the things Nathaniel expected to have shouted at him right then, this was not one of them. The Warden did a double-take, frowning incredulously at the mage. "You gave him to my nephew! You asked if I thought they'd allow it. You were worried about hi- Wait.” He caught what was happening, almost too late. If there was one thing he had learnt early on about Anders, and had reinforced to him repeatedly, to his increasing frustration, it was that the man deflected. Humour, nonsense, flirtation - whatever would baffle those speaking to him and throw them off the answer they sought. “No - you will not get me this way. Tell the truth to me.” He fixed the mage’s eyes with his own, the gray of the sky meeting the brown of the earth beneath them. “If you are not capable of it, the Spirit must be."
As if on cue, a light crackled over Anders’ skin - a blue lightning, one Nathaniel was used to seeing travel over the body of Kristoff but had never seen on his living friend. He flinched, feeling a chill within him unrelated to the magical storm that continued to beat against them both. So, it was true… He had not doubted it, and yet, it was still hard to believe.
"Your templars,” Anders spat, voice low and level, with an echo to it that had no place on this open hillside. “So many pet templars. Did any of you ever wonder how that would be for me? I was trying to get away from them - they're in our recruits, they’re all over Amaranthine like the Pox -"
"There are a lot of them, I admit,” Nathaniel conceded, reluctantly. He had no keen issue with the Order himself, but no great love of them either, and he knew better than to defend them to the apostate. “But their allegiance has been -"
"Do you know what they put me through?!" The blue light over Anders’ skin flared to a blaze, then abruptly snuffed out, leaving the man beneath looking broken. His voice had wavered and cracked as he’d cried out, a hysteria that he often kept buried rearing its head. There was a wildness in his eyes - a true fear and a pleading for understanding. Nathaniel’s heart broken in upon itself once more, his manner sagging as, carefully, he took a step towards his damaged friend.
"I know...Or, I think I know." His voice was gentle, quieted by respect. And regret. "...I…had to. It was one of her last orders, before she left. You know how she cares for them.”
"She’s mind-washed by them even now,” Anders asserted sullenly, voice dark. “And you by her." Nathaniel went to protest, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Anders scowled, the betrayal deep on his face, but his voice was clipped, his heart kept closed. "Your love for her will always matter more than your regard for me."
"That's - You're being foolish. I was obeying orders."
"Like a sick puppy.” Again, Nathaniel fell silent. It was all the confirmation Anders needed: his face hardened further, the picture of jaded hurt - an emotion he had carried with him for a long time. "Face it - she cares more for a lunatic that wants her dead than she'll ever feel for any of us. Why else does she let them overrun us like this? But…she has, and you will not fight her on it. So…I’m done here.” “By the Maker, Anders.” Creases of pain etched into Nathaniel’s face, his voice restrained and yet also raw. “Come home. We can resolve this. If the templar recruits cross you, I will police it. You know I will always heed your word on that -” Any remaining patience left Anders’ face. “I’m not discussing this with you. I have to go.” The mage’s voice was flat, resolute. “I have to find Karl.”
Again, Nathaniel did an incredulous double-take, his face an affronted sneer of confusion. This was new. “Who's “Karl”?!” The mage smiled sadly, something of the man Nathaniel had known shining through - teasing, flirting, softened, yet always distant.
“He's why you and I never got interesting, love,” he smirked, and then, as soon as it had arrived and soothed Nathaniel’s spirit, the smile disappeared once more. “And he’s why I have to go.” Anders turned, not offering another word, and began to walk away. “ANDERS!” Again, the rogue shouted his name over the wind, this time in a growl of anger. But, he made no pursuit - he did not grab at him or attempt to force him to listen, force him to make sense. He knew that would be a final, cruel injustice after the life his friend had lived. He simply watched in wounded disbelief, his hurt and confusion seething until, finally, melancholic acceptance arrived and reminded him that this was, after all, in keeping with his fortune. This was life - why be surprised by its consistency now?
His father had favoured his brother. Surana had chosen her abdicated prince. There was always someone else.
Nathaniel remained where he had been left and watched until the figure faded entirely from view. He wasn’t sure if he was waiting for something - for a final look back, or for a hoot of laughter and a reveal that this had all been some cruel jest - or if he simply couldn’t bring himself to end this before it must. Finally, however, when the last impression of the mage had vanished and there was no longer any point standing in this cold, he turned his back on the apostate and began the many-day-long journey back to Amaranthine.
He had anticipated to return with company - he had even packed provisions for it. At his side, his wolf padded; the rogue tore scraps of dried meat and dropped it to the creature, to let it know they had found their mark, that it had done well. Mission accomplished… As the pair stalked back across the Bannorn, the storm about them began, gradually, to dwindle. The more space put between them and the ice-mage, the calmer it fell, until at last, all lay still. Silent. Dull.
Healers and stormthrowers - Nathaniel had known two of them, and both had maimed him as much as they had been a balm. Now, he had neither. The wild hills of the Bannorn suddenly seemed incredibly flat.
#angstpril2022#fic#day fifteen#come back#implied abuse tw#nathanders#nathaniel howe#anders dragon age#anders x nathaniel#nathaniel howe x anders#dragon age#dragon age origins#dragon age awakening#da#dao#daoa#breakup#don't leave me#don't leave#heartbreak#can't be together#grey wardens
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Writing Circle Prompt List
PROMPT LISTS
Prompt List #5
Fire Emblem: Three Houses Prompts
Hozier Lyric Prompts
Florence and the Machine Prompts
Six of Crows Prompts
101 Ways to say “I love you”
Cute Shippy Starters
Dragon Age Inspired Dialogue Prompts
Physical Contact Starters
Intimacy Prompts
Love Confessions
Soft Starters
All my main ships and oc tags can be found on my nav page: (link)
You can find more prompts in my prompts tag: (link)
Right now, I would especially like to recieve prompts for:
Serault and The Last Court in general!
The Scholar x The Wayward Bard
Morrigan, Mahariel, and Kieran
Solas x Passion x Varlas
Ithelan Lavellan (x Ash Lavellan)
Zevran x Dirk Tabris
Nathaniel Howe x Fergus Cousland (x Anders)
Kieran & King Alistair
Kieran + Minna Tabris
ADDITIONAL INFO
Serault (The Last Court)
courtly drama, family drama
the weirdness of the woods
The Horned Knight (aka... Reflection?)
the Shame casts a long shadow
(my Marquis is a mage, himself)
Kieran & King Alistair
Kieran having to deal with the Ferelden nobles
(but the Ferelden nobles also have to deal with HIM)
Dad!Alistair is just doing his best
Kieran + Minna Tabris
(bffs, here to cause absolute chaos)
Solas x Passion x Varlas (aka Felassan)
there is so much tension and drama here
Passion just wants to have fun
together, can they make a stubborn elf change his mind?
Ithelan “Hemlock” Lavellan
Clan Lavellan’s Second, an entropy mage
(also my Inquisitor’s ex)
he’s especially prickly after things settle in Wycome
does NOT get along with the elves from Clan Sabrae
GENERAL WRITING LIKES
Fluff
Mutual Pining
Established Relationships
Poly Relationships (open or closed)
Friends to Lovers
Enemies to Lovers
Hurt/Comfort
Found Family
I’m also a big fan of court intrigue, politics, and noble house dynamics --- similar to what you see in Downton Abbey, A Song of Ice and Fire, The Masked Empire, etc. And rogues doing roguish things! Infiltration, heists, assassinations, etc.
I also adore putting two characters with divergent viewpoints into a situation where they need to talk about stuff!
OTHER NOTES
While this list is primarily for the DA Drunk Writing Circle, I’m open to receiving prompts from anyone, and it doesn’t have to be limited to Dragon Age! I also take prompts for my Elders Scrolls characters.
More about them can be found here: (link)
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14 Days of DA Lovers - Rose
Pairing: Alistair x F!Cousland Words: 926
Sabrina watched her brother from across the camp, watching as he smiled and laughed with the Witch of the Wilds. The fire in front of the younger twin made it hard to see her brother, but she could see the interaction as plain as day. Michael wasn’t one to stay holed up in the castle most days, loving to practice sword fights with Fergus and Father over studying. Sabrina always had her nose in a book, dedicated to one study or another, maybe a new language, something about magic, history. Anything she could read, it was in her hands. It had suitors for her feeling a way, never quite sure how to handle an educated woman that wouldn’t hold her tongue. Michael wasn’t able to stop her, mostly laughing as men ran off because she was so well spoken for her age. Even Nathaniel grew to find it endearing. The younger Cousland twin scoffed as she tossed a clump of dirt into the fire. The thought of the Howe family had Sabrina’s stomach turning in disgust, the night Duncan had saved her and her brother flashing in her mind over and over again. She trusted them, their whole family trusted the Howes. Sabrina had even mentioned marrying Nathaniel, and his family killed her’s. If she ever met him again, she promised to kill Nathaniel and Rendon for the crimes they committed. “I don’t suppose you’d be against some company?” A voice asked over head. Sabrina looked up, pale blue eyes meeting brown eyes. Alistair had chucked off his armor somewhere, his sword still in hand, but was looming over Sabrina as he spoke. She didn’t say anything to him, just nodded. There was some rustling as he sat down, placing the sword to the side away from Sabrina, and sighing. “They get along so well,” he said, nodding towards Michael and Morrigan. “You’d think she possessed or enchanted him.” Sabrina smiled, tossing more dirt into the fire. “He seems happy enough, so I do not think he is under her spell.” The way Morrigan and Michael interacted gave no indication that she was trying to hurt or control him. When he spoke about Morrigan, it was nothing but nice things and looks of a lost puppy. He was smitten and displayed it in everything he did. But Sabrina was having a hard time on her own covering up her puppy dog eyes and smitten stares. While her heart had first been blocked off for Nathaniel, there was something charmingly sweet about Alistair. The day Bryce died was the day Sabrina’s feelings for Nathaniel died. The doors had been closed, locked shut. Her naivety and innocence, the longing for a story book love, had caused her much more pain than anything she knew. Nathaniel wasn’t the knight in armor she dreamed of, but the demons that mages hid from. The day of her recruitment, meeting Alistair, and everyday on the road together, slowly tore that door back down. The walls around her were slowly broken, brick by brick, but Alistair still had a lot of work to do. But Sabrina didn’t mind waiting. “I suppose,” Alistair agreed quietly. When Sabrina looked at the other Warden, his cheeks began to flush as though he was sitting too close to the fire. “Though, I must admit, I did want to speak with you about something.” Sabrina perked up a little, her back straightening as she looked at Alistair, eyes trained and searching his face.
“What is it?” She asked, moving closer to Alistair. There was the faintest smile on his face as he looked down before, like magic, making a wild red rose appear. The look on Sabrina’s face could have been a lot of things. Shock? Surprise? Love? She couldn’t name one thing, but it was a mix of them. Slowly, delicate fingers reached out to take the rose, holding it as though it was glass and would shatter if even the wind touched it. “I saw it back in Lothering,” Alistair said, running his hand through his hair. Sabrina didn’t look up from the flower. “I saw it out by the Chantry. Couldn’t explain why I wanted it, but the idea of something so beautiful amidst all this darkness and despair… I couldn’t leave it there for the darkspawn to kill it.” The sentiment was beautiful, like something a knight from a child’s story would have said. Sabrina slowly lifted the rose and smelled it. It smelled like any other rose, but it wasn’t just some rose. It was from Alistair. “You don’t have to say anything, or really tell me how ridiculous it is, because I know it’s rather dorky,” Alistair said, beginning to back track. Sabrina’s eyes lifted to look at the man, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Is this your way of saying I am beautiful, Sir Alistair?” She said, half jokingly, half earnest. The blush in Alistair’s cheeks only intended as he stuttered. “I-I suppose-” he mumbled. “Oh Maker, I’m not very good at this, am I?” The laugh that came from Sabrina was one that was long overdue. Her heart swelled at Alistair’s flushed face and embarrassment. He was, without a doubt, adorably sweet. The younger Cousland twin placed the rose on her lap, moving and placing a feather light kiss on Alistair’s cheek. “It is a beautiful gift, and I will cherish it,” Sabrina said, not moving back into place. Alistair’s head slowly turned, his smile reappearing as he leaned in to softly kiss the noble woman.
#14 days of da lovers#alistiar x f!cousland#alistair x cousland#alistair x sabrina#cousland twins#mentions of#morrigan x m!cousland#morrigan x cousland#listen they're cute but they arent completely hashed out for me to write more#im also a day late on my prompts#day 1#fanfic#ficlet#da:o#14dalovers
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Inktober # 22 - Fears
I found an old fic that I was writing about Cousland X Nathaniel Howe and this popped up in my head.
Since Nathan didn’t think he would ever be able to sleep again, he took the first watch. Aeryn started to protest then thought better of it and then settled down on her bedroll. It was a crisp cool night so they opted to keep it simple and not use the tents tonight. Plus they picked up an extra body and didn’t want her to be the only one not with shelter. Nathan couldn’t help himself but watch the Commander sleep. Watch her was something he secretly liked to do since he was a child. She was always so fascinating to him. Aeryn Cousland was her own person in so many ways. When she was supposed to be taking lessons and sipping tea, she would be in the gardens rolling in the mud and wielding a wooden sword around. His mother would always sneer at Aeryn’s torn knee and rumbled dress saying the Cousland’s were raising hellions instead of proper children.
Nathan always found it fascinating that even at a young age Aeryn was determined to do something greater than be some Bann’s wife. Fergus always teased her that she would be an old maid before anyone would be suited to marry her. Nathan found himself grateful for that even when he told himself that she was just Fergus’ silly little sister. Looking back he wasn’t sure if he ever truly saw her as that.
“No!”
Nathan jolted and was by her side before Aeryn could fully open her eyes. “It’s okay.” He tried to sooth only to have his hands shoved away. When he saw her going for her rose encrusted dagger, he took her arms and gave her a hard shake, “Aeryn look at me.”
The warden jolted at the sound of her first name. Ever so slowly, her eyes began to focus as the world started to form around her. She blinked at Nathan who now had her face in his hands. “Nate?” She asked still unsure.
“It was a dream.” He soothed and much to his surprise she crumpled into his arms. Relief left her trembling and fighting tears. Looking back, Nathan wasn’t sure he had ever seen her cry before. “It’s okay. Just a dream.”
Aeryn pressed her wet face into his shoulder letting the comfort of his arms wash over her. The first thing she noticed was that he was so warm and felt safe leaving her baffled. Alistair had been the first man to ever make her feel such a way and Nathan was the last man she expected to feel it with again. For shaking her confusion and just everything else, Aeryn clung to him. “Promise me that I won’t be one of those things? That even if you have to kill me-.”
“Kill you.” Again it struck him how funny it was now that thought scared him senseless. “What are you talking about? It was only a nightmare nothing more.”
“No.” She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her, “it can be a reality, Nathan. Don’t let them turn me into one of those things! I know it may be hard for us to ever be friends, but you can’t still hate me that much to wish that sort of fate on me?”
Nathan slowly became aware of the fear she was going on about. Thinking of the broodmothers was the thing that was preventing him from sleeping in the first place. Even when he thirsted for her blood on his blade, he wouldn’t want her to have that fate. “It won’t happen, Aeryn.” He assured enjoying the way her name felt on his tongue. “You’re strong and smart, you won’t let it happen.”
“I’m human. Everyone looks at me and sees this fearless Gray Warden that faced the Archdemon and lived to tell the tale. They think nothing touches me, but it does. So much affects me I’m just good at putting up a good front. Losing Alistair, it ripped me to piece yet those who knew where my companions I spent over a year with. I get hit and I bleed. One moment of indecision or weakness can be my end and there are times where it’s just too much. So many things can happen to me and I need you, Nathan. I need you to be there when I stumble or to take charge when you think I’m incapable.” Aeryn took a breath to steady herself. “I need you to promise me that if you have to, you will kill me before those things take me and turn me into a broodmother.”
Nathan sat stunned to silence. She needed him. After all that had happened and was said, she trusted him enough to need him. To start to depend on him as a friend and equal.
“Promise.” She pressed her brow to his, “swear to me.”
He was all too well aware of her cool fingertips against his burning cheeks and the way her breath fell on his face. Make help him he wanted her more then he did the day before. “I vow on my life that I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promised, tucking her against his chest not ready to let her go just yet. It wasn’t long before she found the comfort she needed and dropped off into the fade.
Aeryn awoke the next morning confused, but not alarmed to find Nathan sleeping beside her. In the early morning light, she was allowed to study him without his knowledge. He didn’t smile much. Even in sleep, his brow was creased with a frown. It was something she dearly missed the boy she knew so long ago. Of course, there wasn’t too much to smile about these days. Things seemed even gloomier then during the blight. At times like these, she missed Zevran’s flirtations, Leanna’s storytelling, Wynne’s mothering, and even Morigann’s scowling. No matter what might have passed once at camp they always seemed to find things to laugh about. Now, even with Andres, it was just too quiet for her liking.
But Maker helper her, he was breathtaking. He grew up into those deep dark eyes and taunt cheekbones. His mouth was firm and she ached to taste them again. Though Nathan still looked at her in odd ways, he hadn’t touched her in any way other than to help her in battle since the night on the riverbank. In fact, they hadn’t even spoken or acknowledged the kiss they shared weeks ago.
“How long are you going to watch me?” Nathan’s asked his voice heavy with sleep and humor.
Aeryn found herself smiling, “well it’s the only time you’re not scowling at me.”
Nathan opened his eyes doing just that, “I don’t always scowl at you.” He assured drowning in her laughter, “did you sleep well.”
“I did.” She glanced at their joined hands, “thank you.”
Realizing it, Nathan released his and noticed the disappointment that flooded her face. Before he had time to question it she was already getting up to wake the others.
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1 OC 3 Relationships
I got tagged by the wonderful @gugle1980, thank you dearie
Rules: Pick ONE of your OCs and THREE of their relationships (friends, parents, LIs, whatever). Find a gif that represents each relationship.
My Warden Gwendolyn Alexandria Cousland (parents and Fergus call her Gwen, Nate calls her Win or Winnie, and companions call her Alexa or Lex)
Gwendolyn x Nathaniel Howe (lovers/spouse)
Gwendolyn x Fergus (Siblings)
Gwendolyn x Isabela, Morrigan and Leliana
Bonus Gwendolyn x Alistair (broship)
I’m tagging these lovely people @thejeeperswife @thealexmachina @agentkatie@garrus @scahill42 @joufancyhuh @laraslandlockedblues @myfinalfrontier and anyone else who wants to play xD
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Happy Friday! “You’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug.”
Thank you for the prompt!! Another one for @dadrunkwriting! This one is for Elaina Cousland x Nathaniel Howe
Content Warning: mild flirting, no amphibians were harmed in the story Length: ~700 words
Elaina looked down at the ruined kite and her cheeks puffed out in annoyance. Another one down the drain and she worked hard on this one. She looked over at the training field and saw Nathaniel sticking his tongue out at her. “That!” Elaina stepped towards the training field when she felt a hand at her shoulder. “Papa.”
“I know you’re feeling mad and frustrated pup, but you mustn’t lose your temper.” Elaina opened her mouth to protest but Bryce shook his head. “You must approach your problems with a sense of dignity and respect. Not everything can be solved with your fists.” Elaina clamped her mouth shut and turned away to pout. “It’ll be alright pup. Fergus can help you make another one.”
“Okay Papa.” Elaina had a plan formed in her mind. Instead of searching out Fergus, she went to the small decorative pond near the gate. To anyone else she looked like she was looking at the water. Bryce informed the knights that Elaina had been having a tiff with Nathaniel. The knights understood and chuckled as they saw their small lady pouting. Elaina wasn’t pouting but she wouldn’t reveal her plan to anyone.
She snuck into Nathaniel’s room, ensuring no one saw her. She deposited her “catch” into his bed before making herself scarce. Elaina went to the library and read a book for the afternoon, knowing the tutor would be her alibi as would the knights who saw her in the courtyard. No one would suspect that she was the one behind it.
Present Day
“It was you!?” Nathaniel asked incredulously as Elaina laughed at the memory. “Maker’s breath, I was terrified of frogs for years after that.” He crossed his arms as Elaina wiped at the tears on her cheeks from laughing so hard.
“Perhaps if you hadn’t ruined so many of my kites with your arrows, I’d have taken a different route.” Elaina grinned as he leaned against the tree at their camp. “Papa told me that not every solution could be resolved with violence.”
“No but leaving behind a phobia is perfectly fine.” Elaina leaned against him as he pouted and she grinned up at him.
“Did you forget who put that snake in my room?” He refused to look at her as she slipped around him to look at his face. “Or the spiders in my hair?” She saw the trembling on his lips and he gave him a sarcastic smile.
“You paid me back for each and every one of those incidents if you will recall. After the spider one, you were the reason I lost my front tooth early.” Elaina huffed at him.
“Not on purpose! It wasn’t my fault you were standing that closely when I was flailing about.” He leaned down to smirk at her. “I lost my dessert privileges for a week for that.”
“Only a week?”
“Papa recognized it was an accident.” The gleam in her eyes told him that it hadn’t been an accident. He sighed and leaned back.
“We were right shits to each other as kids.” Elaina laughed as she agreed.
“I believe it was when we were twelve? You’d just put mud down the front of my dress when I told you that you had all the charm of a slug.” Nathaniel chuckled.
“You also gave me your infamous right hook for my efforts.” Elaina propped her hands on her hips as she stared at him. “What? Fergus warned us about it.”
“Of course he would, he got it the most of all of you. Being the little sister was such a pain.” Elaina grinned at him. He leaned in until their noses were touching.
“Then we grew up.” Heat shot up her spine and she took a careful step back. Nathaniel laughed at the wariness in those blue eyes. He always thought her eyes were beautiful, even as a child. She was so expressive that he couldn’t help but be captivated by then, even if he’d been a pest as a child. “Scared Warden-Commander?”
“Hardly.” He laughed at the petulant tone before she marched over to Sigrun to discuss their plan for going into the Deep Roads. He’d get her to warm up to him eventually.
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The Library
(image via @hedgequisition)
Looking for something to read? Go ahead, browse the shelves. There should be something you will like to read. Read more beneath the cut! Links on AO3, though they are also in my blog!
DA Black Emporium 2024
Bad Idea, Right? - T, Krem/Cullen. Fake engagement AU, but Krem realises he's caught feelings. The best time to confess is at a ball, right?
Frocks, Frills, and Thrills - T, Josephine / f!Trevelyan. Ariadne Trevelyan spent a lot of time learning to be the perfect daughter and preparing to join the Chantry. Becoming Inquisitor made her question everything: the Chantry, her purpose, and even love.
Hands Off, Howe - E, Nathaniel Howe/Alistair/f!Cousland. Alistair gets tired of Nathaniel flirting with his wife in front of him and decides to have a bi awakening about it.
Honey, Have You Seen My Super Suit? - T, Jowan x f!Surana. Adaya's robes have suddenly gone missing, so she has to borrow her boyfriend Jowan's until she can get a new set.
Uncertainty with a Side of Vengeance - G, Zevran & f!Lavellan. Solas is gone. Her Clan is dead. When the assassin she hired returns with news of the job, she realises they may have more in common than she realised.
DADWC Prompts
Find all my DADWC works here!
I'll Place the Stars Within Your Eyes - T, Loghain/Maric. Post The Stolen Throne, where Maric asks Loghain to become a teyrn. He needs a bit of convincing.
At Your Side - T, Zevran/genderfluid!Cousland. If there's anyone Ramsay Cousland trusts to set traps and launch bombs, its Zevran. Fighting alongside each other is the way they feel safest, so those precious seconds he's away are the worst.
Pigeon Proofing - G, Shale & Wynne. The colourful decorations flesh creatures wear intrigue Shale. It must determine their use, and maybe see if they can help in eradicating pigeons.
Serving Highever - M, Ser Gilmore/genderfluid!Cousland. Ser Gilmore and Ramsay have been seeing each other for a while, but nobody had found out. Of course Fergus would be the one to find out.
the little things - T, Pavellan, Trying to pretend he isn't horrendously in love with Dorian is almost an impossible task for Elwyn. All he wants is to let the world know that he is in love with a Tevinter altus. But they're not out yet.
Mission Report - T, Krem x Rylen. It started out as reports between Rylen and Krem, but it slowly became something more. When a concerning report reaches Rylen's desk, the only real solution is for him to investigate it himself, right?
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WiP Wednesday
Thanks @oxygenforthewicked and @kirkwalls-dumbest for the tags! Here is just a friendly little chat between siblings from the next chapter of the Howe x Cousland DA Awakenings fic (found here!).
...
Before Phoebe quite knew what had happened, he stormed past her.
The visceral sound of fist hitting flesh landed before she could spin around to face it. She jerked around just in time to see Nathaniel fall to the stone floor, hitting shoulders and arse but thankfully not skull. He lifted a hand, covering his nose as blood began to spill, trickling between his fingers.
Phoebe blinked, her body and mind abruptly jolting to life at the sound of steel being drawn.
“Fergus!” she snapped, bolting to stand between the two of them. Ignoring her brother’s hardened scowl, she grabbed his hand by the wrist and forced his blade back into his sheath. She felt the muscles tensing under her arm, but he’d been bedridden for ages while she was fighting the Blight, and she was stronger despite his superior size right now.
Fergus glared down at her, eyes blazing. “Release me.”
“You will not harm him further,” she retorted in a hiss, letting go of his wrist as he shrugged her away, putting distance between them. “Teyrn Cousland, you stand on my soil now, and you will not harm one of my Wardens.”
“Rendon Howe killed my son, and I will pay that debt in kind,” Fergus replied, low and threatening. She could see how tight his hand was on his blade, and it made her heart ache.
She understood…oh, she understood all too well.
Phoebe couldn’t help averting her gaze at the swell of sorrow, but she simply couldn’t back down. Hopefully they could resolve this as siblings. “Fergus, I–”
“The tears and blood both spilled by treachery cannot be repaid, but you cannot expect me to suffer his continued existence in your presence, Phoebe. And I cannot believe you are allowing it, after what his brother–”
“Stop,” Phoebe interrupted, all too aware of attention fixed upon them.
Fergus inhaled, gaze shifting left and right, and then past her shoulder at Nathaniel. His jaw and eyes both hardened. “Be sensible, Phoebe. I’ll give you a dozen men to replace him with. I’ll even kill him in a fair fight.”
Out of the corner of her vision she could see Nathaniel rising, pinching his nose. Thank the Maker he was sensible enough to stay silent. He didn’t leave, however, or back down. She would have rather he had, but she understood that it would be a difficult request to make of anyone in these circumstances.
Well, when siblings failed, politics would have to take over. “I am sorry, brother. Warden Howe has survived the Joining. He is a Warden, and I am his Commander. I will not turn him over to you, and if you demand a fight, it will have to be with me. Your request is unreasonable and goes against Ferelden’s agreements with the Wardens.”
Their stares held, his full of frustration and rage, hers resolute but pained. She knew he could see that this was hurting her, and that might have been the only reason he stood down now. They were all the other had now.
“While I’m certain that would delight him, to watch the last remaining Couslands fight over his pathetic life…” Fergus gritted his teeth, averting his eyes. Finally he released his blade, breathing in slowly through his nose. “Temperate and just.”
“Temperate and just,” she agreed quietly, refusing to be cowed as he turned a very dark look down to her. Phoebe lifted her chin, staring right back, trying to hold his gaze. She spoke up again before Fergus could turn his ire back in Nathaniel’s direction. “Have you been assigned rooms yet?”
Fergus snorted roughly. “Your seneschal is efficient. Yes. Show me where your rooms are, pup, I have things that need to be delivered to it.”
Phoebe knew full well that her brother was spoiling for an argument, and he wanted to have it in private.
She wished she didn’t have to fight him, that she didn’t have to defend Nathaniel, but she had no choice– there weren’t enough Wardens left for her to lose any.
That was the only reason she’d stepped between them.
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Temperance (6/?)
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: Just a year after his mother's death, Nathaniel is not enjoying his summer very much. Liss enlists the help of her older brother to cheer him up.
First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]
Highever, 9:16 Dragon
It had been just over a year since Nathaniel’s mother had passed. It was the worst year of his life, and he hated everything. Everything. It was only fair, since everything hated him, too. Without Mother’s calming influence, Father had become even more critical and dismissive, but that was only when he was present. Much of the time, he left children in the care of servants and tutors claiming to have no patience for their misbehavior. Honestly, Nathaniel preferred it that way. At least with Adria and the others, he was free to act like a child. He was free to play and cry and he didn’t have to worry of father would be disappointed because he never saw it happen.
He’d also been relieved to learn he would be spending the summer in Highever again. The Cousland family was kind and —more importantly — whole. They talked to him with soft voices, and made their home feel like his own, only better. He wasn’t sure that he deserved them, or anything for that matter. He was a poor example of a Ferelden boy, sensitive, moody and unable to control it most of the time. He must have seemed like the most ungrateful guest in the world, but he just wanted to be alone. The more they tried to include him, to reach out, the more angry he became that his own family couldn’t be the same way. It felt so broken all the time.
He just wished Liss would leave him alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. In fact, he liked her a lot. Warm, caring, and incessantly friendly, the girl had become a friend to him, one of the only he could ever remember having. He’d actually become closer to her than he had to Fergus, despite what father intended, and he was glad to know her. But she wouldn’t let him be miserable in peace.
It was difficult to tell what time it was without any windows in his room. It could have been early morning or the middle of the night and he would not have been able to tell the difference; however, from the bustle of footsteps and echoes of conversation in the hallway, he figured it was mid-morning. He knew he should be up. He should be out practicing archery, or attending lessons, but he just felt like lying there, coverlet pulled up over his head.
A light succession of knocks against his door meant that lying there for the entire day wasn’t an option. He slid out of bed, bare feet touching the cold stone floor, and stomped clumsily to the door, pulling it open abruptly, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Liss, I told you I don’t feel like-,” he began, but as his eyes adjusted to the new light, he looked up to see Fergus towering above him, rather than Liss. He wore an amused grin and Nathaniel’s face burned hot. “Sorry, it’s usually Liss knocking.”
“Not today,” Fergus said with a shrug, “She’s in big trouble.”
“What’d she do this time?” Nathaniel had learned not to be alarmed by “big trouble” in the Cousland household, as it meant something entirely different than “big trouble” at home. Liss was probably somewhere cleaning up a mess she made, or completing an extra hour of lessons. Fair consequences for misbehavior, which the girl seemed to do a lot of.
“Let one of the Mabari into the larder. The way Nan looked at her… she got such a scolding.” Fergus laughed jovially at his sister’s misfortune. “You’re lucky it was me and not her, the way you answered that door. She’s small, but she hits like some twice her size. Look.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a circular bruise on his arm.
“Liss did that?”
“She did.”
“Why?” Nathaniel tore his eyes from the dark patch of skin and turned them back to the the other boy’s face.
Fergus chuckled and tugged his sleeve back down. “Well, when she got in trouble, she made me promise to come check on you for her. So I told her I’d make sure her boyfriend was all right. Don’t think she liked that very much.”
Heat rushed to his face again, despite how he tried to remain unfazed. It wasn’t true of course, but to deny it aggressively in that moment would only imply that it was—and it wasn’t. “Your nine-year-old sister hit you hard enough to bruise?”
“Two things you need to know about my sister, Nate,” Fergus said, holding up two fingers, “One, she can kick your arse. Two, she will. So don’t mess with her if you’re not prepared.” He walked into Nathaniel’s room and sat down in the chair by the desk, long legs outstretched as if it were his own room.
“Why would I want to mess with her?”
“It’s fun,” he remarked cheerfully, “Don’t you ever tease Delilah?”
“No, and it’s not fun. It’s mean.” Nathaniel recalled the time when he took Delilah’s favorite doll, ripped the arms off, and hid them around their home so she couldn’t find them. In his mind, she had earned it. After all, she put beetles in his bed. Still, the girl had cried for hours and hours. It was not exactly his definition of fun.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Fergus leaned back so that the chair was on its hind two legs, precariously close to tipping over. Father would have scolded Nathaniel for doing something like that.
“Guess not,” Nathaniel replied with a huff, watching as the other boy nearly fell backward in the chair. He waved his arms desperately before grabbing the desk in front of him to stabilize himself. “Anyway, you’ve checked on me. You can tell Liss I’m okay.”
Fergus shook his head vigorously. “You can’t just stay up here all summer.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Maybe not, but I’m twice as big as you, and will carry you outside to get some air if I have to.” He raises his eyebrows. Even sitting down. He was intimidating with his large hands and voice that was starting to deepen.
Nathaniel sighed and relented. “Fine.”
“Thought you’d come around,” Fergus said, standing up and tousling his hair before ushering him out of the room with a firm grip on his shoulder. Nathaniel was suddenly grateful to be the oldest of his siblings. To say this kind of thing was annoying would have been an understatement.
The two boys walked through the hallway, down a flight of stairs, and outside to the courtyard. It was a sunny day, and warm, even for the middle of summer. Nathaniel hated to admit it, but he already felt lighter. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent of blooming flowers and wet grass filling his nose.
A shriek rang out from behind him, and he tensed, opened his eyes, and glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a mass of curly blond hair in a dress hurtling toward him at full speed. Liss crashed into him, throwing her arms around his neck. Try as he might to remain standing, the shock of the impact knocked him off balance, sending them both hurtling to the ground. Nathaniel could hear Fergus’ delighted laughter in the background.
“Liss, I thought you were in trouble,” he grunted as he rose up on his elbows. She lay on his back, arms still tightly clasped around him.
“I was,” she mumbled into his back, “But I snuck away when I saw you walking with Fergus.”
“Won’t you just get in more trouble later?”
“Nan’ll have to find me first,” she said with a giggle, and then nuzzled her face into his back again, “I’m so happy to see you outside, Nate.”
Nathaniel felt his face get hot yet again, as he recalled Fergus’ presence. He’d never live this one down. Not only had he been tackled by the small, impish little girl, but she was also being affectionate in a way that would warrant later teasing.
“Um,” he said, trying his very best not to be mean to his friend, “Could you get off of me, please?”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” she answered, sounding a bit embarrassed herself as she hopped to her feet. Nathaniel pushed himself up and stood to face her and her brother. She had several bits of grass in her hair and the brightest smile on her face.
“Thank you,” he said, his eyes darting to Fergus, whose grin revealed the dimples in his cheeks. Nathaniel wanted to punch him.
“Well, sis, now that I got him outside for you, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” Fergus tousled her hair and she scowled at him, jutting an elbow up into his side causing him to yelp. “Ow! You’re mean, you know that? See if I ever help you again.” He threw up his hands and walked away.
Nathaniel kicked at the grass under his feet, ruminating on the ground as Fergus walked away. It was dumb to be so embarrassed by the other boy’s antics, and yet he still was.
“Fergus thinks he’s so big because he’s got a deep voice now,” Liss fussed crossing her arms, “He doesn’t scare me.”
“No, you’re definitely the scary one.” Nathaniel laughed nervously.
Liss flashed another mischievous grin. “Papa thinks so too. Says I get it after Mama.”
“Your mother’s scary?”
“She used to be a pirate!”
“Woah.”
“Mhm.”
Liss closed the distance between them and reached up grab his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks together so that his mouth puckered. “I’m happy you came outside, grumpy.”
“You said that already,” Nathaniel mumbled, struggling to speak through the pressure against his jaws, “And I’m not grumpy.”
“Are so,” Liss said removing her hands from his face and sticking out her tongue. “Unless this,” she furrowed her brows, scrunched her nose, and pouted, “Means you’re happy.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like playing.”
A warm pressure surrounded his hand, and he looked down to see her tiny fingers wrapped around his. He looked back up to meet her gaze, and she offered him a soft smile.
“It’s not that,” she assured him, “It just makes me sad when you’re sad, Nate. That’s all.”
He squeezed her hand in return, an acknowledgment of the sentiment that he couldn’t figure out how to respond to in words, and the stood there in silence for several moments before Liss tugged at his hand. “C’mon, I want to show you something.”
Nathaniel followed her, hand-in-hand to the edge of the courtyard where he sometimes practiced with a bow.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed, and he did so. She released his hand and there was a shuffling and clacking sound, followed by footsteps as she returned. “Okay, open them.”
He blinked a few times, looking first at her face and then down to her hands. In one hand, she held a dark wooden bow carved with the Couslands’ laurel branches. In the other, was a matching quiver of arrows with an “N” carved onto the front.
“Papa and Mama wanted you to have your own to use here,” Liss explained, “I did, too. We thought it might make you feel better, at least just a little.”
Nathaniel found himself fighting to hold back tears as he took the bow and quiver from her and examined them carefully. It was the nicest gift he could ever remember receiving, and it was for no reason at all, no special occasion that involved gift giving. The Couslands had just done this for him because they cared, and he was overwhelmed with so many feelings he couldn’t even process them all.
“I… thank you,” he stammered, “This is, just, thank you so much.”
“So you like them?” Liss asked, hands behind her back, eyes glittering with excitement.
“I love them,” he replied with a nod.
She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted as the shrill voice of an elderly woman called out from the opposite side of the courtyard near the door to the main hall.
“Elissa Odette!” Nan stood at the top of the steps, hands cupped around her mouth so that her voice carried. It wasn’t really necessary, though, her voice was loud enough as it was.
Liss’ eyes widened and she grabbed Nathaniel’s wrist. “We have to go,” she whispered as she pulled him along behind her and into a cluster of bushes that lined that courtyard wall. Twigs and leaves scratched at his face as he fell through them, his hip colliding roughly with the ground. He looked over at Liss, who giggled silently, her hand over her mouth.
“Lissy, I know you’re out here,” the woman scolded, sounding as if she had gotten closer, “Fergus just told me you were out here talking to that Howe boy. Maker help me, when I find you, you’ll be scrubbing pots for days. Your father has already agreed to it.”
There was a rustle in the bushes, and a ray of sunlight peeked through, shining directly onto the two of them. Nathaniel looked up to see Nan hovering over them, scowl etched into the lines on her face. She glanced between him and Liss before taking them both by the arm and pulling them up out of the brush. She was stronger than he would have expected.
“What am I going to do with you,” she spat as she fussed over Liss’ hair, “First you let that bloody mongrel into my larder and then you run away before you finished cleaning up the mess. This is no way for a young lady to behave.”
“And Nathaniel, dear,” she said more softly as she turned to face him. He tensed and prepared for a tongue-lashing of his own. “This girl is a bad influence. She is a naughty, ill-behaved child, and will do nothing but get you into trouble.” He nodded but darted his eyes to Liss who could barely contain her laughter.
“I’m sorry Nan,” she said sweetly, “Nate hasn’t been feeling well and I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I’ll wash as many pots as you want me to.” Liss batted her eyelashes at the woman, who scoffed in return.
“You bet you will,” she retorted as she took Liss by the arm, just above the elbow, and turned to escort her back to the castle.
“See you later, Nate,” she shouted as they walked away, turning over her shoulder to wave at him. “Feel better!”
He chuckled softly and waved back to her, before returning to the bow and arrows that dropped to the ground in the rush to hide. He picked them up to examine them more closely, tracing the engravings with the tip of his index finger. His chest swelled and the tears he held back before fell freely now. He really did love them - the gifts and the family who gave them to him.
Fixing his stance, he nocked an arrow, took aim, pulled back the string and released.
It was a bullseye.
#dragon age#dragon age origins#Nathaniel Howe#nathaniel howe x cousland#fergus cousland#temperance#chapter 6#my writing
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