[Fic] War is Never Cheap Here (12/12)
Title: War is Never Cheap Here (12/12)
Authors: cherith & serindrana
Game: Dragon Age: Origins
Pairing: Bann Teagan/Ser Cauthrien
Series Rating: NC-17/AO
Chapter Rating: T
Series Wordcount: 99,400
Chapter Wordcount: 9,043
Warnings: Dark. Violence and abduction. Reference to sexual assault.
Summary: Edlyn is found. The return to Rainsfere is accompanied by duty and regret - as is the final leaving of it. (Ao3) (FF)
Notes: War is Never Cheap Here is now finished! It's been a great ride (and Maker, it's taken nearly half a year), and we're so glad you came along with us. We have other projects in the works, so remain on the look out. Thank you all so much for reading and supporting.
Until our next story starts up, expect occasional posts relating to auxiliary fanworks for War - the fanmix (again), art, etc.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Chapter Twelve
They followed the horsemen's trail for half a day, picking into the forest and away from the road, from the river. Cauthrien kept Teagan braced against her chest and in her saddle as they rode, her eyes straying again and again to the makeshift bandage tied quickly around his shoulder. He was still bleeding, weak and barely conscious, and he didn't complain once about the discomfort of sitting in a saddle made for one.
She would have stopped to attend to his wound immediately, but he had told her no, get Edlyn.
The trail took them to an empty clearing, a stream not a hundred paces away. There were the remains of a fire pit, a small midden speaking to long days of occupation, crushed grass where tents had been.
And there was a pile of earth, dark and bare, mounded up in one corner of the field.
"No," Hilde whispered, and Brynden turned away. It was Jaron, who had led them along the horsemen's tracks, who dismounted first. They had no shovels, only small trowels, but he forced them into Hilde's and Brynden's hands and went to dig up the disturbed earth.
Cauthrien looked after them, then pressed a kiss to the back of Teagan's head, sliding out of the saddle. She helped bring him down after her, walking him a few feet away and easing him to the ground. Smiling tightly, she went to pull her field kit down from her horse. A steel needle, oiled twine - she could do this.
Her kit set aside, she tried to laugh and smile and joke, if only to keep him awake, if only to keep him from noticing what they had found. "A story to tell Raud," she murmured, as she settled his weight against her. It would be harder to work, but she didn't want him to fall.
"Yes," he muttered, voice thin and weak, and then he smiled. As she pressed the needle and twine to his shoulder, he closed his eyes, though the lids fluttered at every prick. His lips moved and contorted, his brow furrowed, and once she thought he said her name. But then he sagged heavy and limp against her and his face softened. He slept.
The stitches made, poultice smoothed over the wound, and bandages wrapped tight around his arm, she sat back and looked at him. She hoped it was only from the strain; the injury had not seemed so severe, or she would have attended it before they followed the trail. Nerves churned in her stomach, and a small shout came from where the guards worked at digging.
Carefully, she shrugged out of her arming jacket and wrapped it into a bundle, settling it beneath his head as she laid him on the ground. She was just rising to her feet when Hilde called, breathless,
"We've found her."
Cauthrien didn't move, staring down at Teagan for a long moment.
She then turned, striding over to the others. They had uncovered the barest tip of a nose, the curve of a full cheek, the swell of a shoulder. She crouched with them and used her hands to help move the last of the earth.
Edlyn.
Her hair was pale brown and though not braided, it was long enough to be worn so, with kinks and curls to it that spoke of regular plaiting. She was young - too young - and she matched every detail the family had given them.
And she was dead.
She was dead and buried in the ground without so much as a scrap of clothing. There were bruises on her skin, dried blood, and Cauthrien finally ordered the others away.
"Build a pyre," she said.
"The chantry-"
"We cannot take her home like his. Her family should not see it."
Nobody responded, and for a moment, nobody moved. And then Brynden gave an order and the other two followed, and life began to crawl once more.
Cauthrien wrapped Edlyn's body in a blanket. She plaited a lock of hair on the girl's head, then cut it, knotted it, and placed it into a small pouch to deliver to the family. She took another plait for Owen after a moment's thought. She whispered the few words of the Chant that she knew, and then she went to help build the pyre.
--
When he woke, he felt stiff and sore and there was a throbbing pain in his shoulder. He shifted, feeling the ground beneath him. It took a moment to recall where he was and why he hurt but as he did, he tried to sit up. Difficult as it was and not wanting to put pressure on his arm, he managed to roll to his other side, fold his legs and use his other arm to push up to a seated position.
He saw the fire first, and called out for Cauthrien.
She turned at the sound of his voice, looking utterly exhausted and lit only by the flickering flames. She left the guards to go to his side and crouched down beside him, murmuring only,
"Edlyn is dead."
He swallowed, throat dry. His stomach churned and nearly revolted, soured and roiling as he inhaled the smoke of the pyre. He turned his head away from it. His head bowed. "Maker..."
They had both known that with all the time that had passed, it wasn't likely they would find her alive. But they had hoped so fervently to be wrong, to find her and to be able to return her home. He closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer for Edlyn and her family. It was the only thing he could do, and he clung to it.
It was several moments before he looked back at Cauthrien.
"The fire?" He knew it already, knew the smell of burnt hair on the wind, but he had to hear it from her.
Cauthrien obliged, looking over to the now-dying flames. "Funeral pyre. The state she was in... her family shouldn't have seen her like that. It is better this way."
He swallowed again and nodded. It would be harder to explain why they had returned without a body, but he trusted her.
She settled down onto the ground and put a hand lightly on his uninjured shoulder. "I took plaits of her hair to give to her family. They will have... something to remember her by. Or to offer at a proper funeral."
"That was thoughtful. Some day, I’m sure they will be thankful to have something - to have done something." He fell silent, another prayer forming in his mind. He looked into the fire as he leaned into her touch, and watched it burn down to embers.
"Too late to start back, I take it?" he asked, voice hoarse and heart weary.
She took a deep breath, then let it out in a half-sigh. "We could go, but everybody is exhausted. And how is your arm? Are you-" Her words trailed off and she reached up to touch his jaw again, thumbing his cheek. "I was afraid."
"It's been better." With a sigh, he leaned his head against her hand. "I'm sorry - if I had been faster, I could have avoided him altogether." He tried not to think about the fact that if he had been any slower, the strike would've caught him in the chest instead of the shoulder.
She pressed a kiss to his forehead, then rested her cheek against the crown of his head.
"And if I had been faster, I would have been between the two of you. As it is, though- when you passed out, I was afraid we had rushed too much for nothing. If we had found Edlyn but somehow lost you-"
"But you didn't." He closed his eyes again.
When he spoke again, it was with the measured, forced calm he'd learned to use from a young age. "Was there anything left by the men here?" They could only make assumptions on why the bandits had taken her. Without them to ask and Edlyn dead, there was no way to know for certain. Teagan frowned. They were too far away now to even search the bandits' horses.
Cauthrien shook her head, the barest movement against his. "No. There was just a grave. But given the state of the body and the trophies they took, I... can't find it in me to doubt what happened." She sighed and he couldn't help the frown, couldn't help turning away from her.
"We'll ride out tomorrow," she murmured. "Without anything to track, we might make it in a day and a half. We can move as quickly as you like - or are able."
"Ah," he lifted his hand and laid it on her leg. "I'm sorry."
He fell quiet again, resting against her and fighting the sleep that still tugged at him. From somewhere in the near distance he could hear the others preparing their camp for the night, and he turned his head to watch them in the growing dark. They had built their camp on the far side of the clearing, and he saw the flare of the campfire being lit. Hilde was helping Jaron set up the tents, while Brynden took cooking duties. His stomach rumbled though he didn't feel much like eating.
"I should be able to ride in the morning... with enough rest," he said at last, lifting his head and looking to her.
"Then you will have all the night to rest," she assured him, shifting to better settle him against her. "Try to wiggle your fingers? Do you have feeling everywhere?"
He glanced down; a thought and his fingers wiggled easily. A knot he hadn't realized had settled in his chest loosened, and he nodded with a faint smile. There was pain there but to move his fingers did not take so much effort.
"Seems so."
"Good. It didn't seem too bad, but I was still worried." Her returned smile was also weak. "We should get you closer to the fire," she added. "Do you think you could stand and walk a little?"
"Won’t know until I try.” He took a few deep breaths in preparation and pulled himself away from her, though he felt warm enough and was content to stay as they were.
He moved his hand from her leg, setting it on the ground to push against as he folded his legs. There were several twinges of pain from his shoulder as he moved, though none of them were so long or painful enough to stop him. As he rocked forward he gave Cauthrien a sidelong glance and frowned.
"I may need a little help,” he admitted.
"I'm here," she said, and slipped an arm around him once more to help him up. He grimaced even as she took his weight on her shoulder, guiding him a few short steps towards the fire. "Let me know if you need to rest or if I'm slow enough that you're going mad from it."
"I think,” he said, "if the camp were any farther away, I would go mad.” It was mostly fatigue that made him waver, and the seemingly endless stretch of earth taunted him. The smell of the food Brynden prepared turned his stomach and he looked for a spot to sit away from the food, tugging on Cauthrien’s arm as he leaned towards a place.
She helped him take a seat, crouching down beside him. "What do you think you can keep down?" she asked. "You should eat something - it's been nearly a whole day." There was still worry, etched alongside the exhaustion on her brow, and if he had felt stronger, he would have tried to smooth it away.
Instead, he could only shake his head, his braid falling free. "Not much.” He shrugged, then winced at the pain in his shoulder. "Perhaps a bit of bread? Some water if we have it.”
"We do." She smiled and touched his uninjured arm, then stood up. Turning from him and striding towards the fire, she called out a question about the watch that night to Hilde. She spent a moment there, talking with the others, before returning to his side. Sitting down beside him, she offered a small piece of the soft interior of a loaf and a water skin. "I'll be with you all night," she said. "Playing nurse."
He smiled at that. Taking the food she offered with his good hand, he said, "I don’t know how good of company I’m likely to be.”
After a few nibbles of the bread, waiting to see if his stomach protested at all, he set the bread on his knee and reached for the water. He took a few small sips and then handed it back to her. It seemed to settle, if resting heavy in his belly, and he reached for the bread again.
"Though it does sound nice,” he murmured as he finished it off and took the water back..
She laughed, rubbing at the small of his back in small circles. "A little more time spent together," she agreed. "I wouldn't want to leave you alone after today."
He slid his hand to her leg, squeezing her knee. There was a bit of melancholy in that thought. It was a blessing to spend a little more time with Cauthrien, but he hadn't wanted it to be because of an injury, and even less because of what had happened to Edlyn. And now there was so little time. There would be almost none left when they reached home, not much more than it took for her to rest and pack and set back on the road to Denerim.
He frowned as he leaned against her, sinking into the pressure of her hand against his back and closing his eyes. He murmured a quiet thank you against her shoulder.
A little more time.
Cauthrien shifted against him, then leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "Do you want to go to the tent? Hilde has it set up," she murmured as she pulled away only by degrees. When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him with a small smile.
He wanted a lot of things in that moment: a little more strength to move on his own, a little less pain in his shoulder, a little more time. A lot more time. A chance to have been able to rescue Edlyn. He could never have those things, not now.
But they had some time to enjoy, even mixed with sadness as it was.
"I do," he said with a nod.
Pulling away from her hand, he leaned in to return her kiss with one of his own. He rocked forward, preparing to stand, and used his good arm to push himself up. There was an ache in his shoulder, a tingling through his upper arm as if to remind him it was still there and he grunted quietly as he moved.
She was there, helping him up and bracing him against her side. The walk to the tent was stumbling and too-long, but she bid goodnight to the others and helped him into the shade of it.
Their bedrolls were already laid out; the others knew, of course, that they shared a tent and didn't bother pretending it wasn't true. He knew that it had embarrassed her before. But now she moved without self-consciousness, helped him down, moved to tug off his boots with just a smile and a shake of her head.
"Tell me if I hurt you."
He hissed once as he tried to put weight on his arm once he was on the bedroll. His head bowed as he cradled his hand in his lap, he watched her work to remove his boots. Part of him wanted to laugh at her words. She was treating him gently, tenderly and it was a part of her that he hadn't seen since she had struck him on that field. It was hard to feel light-hearted with everything that had happened, but if he watched her, focused on her, he could try.
He wiggled his toes a little as she freed them from his boots and gave her a broader smile.
"I have no complaints thus far."
"Good," she said, and quickly unlaced and removed her own shoes, then set about turning their few blankets into a more comfortable bed for him. That done, she moved to him. She began to undo the toggles of his doublet. It had been slashed open and she had bandaged him through the gap. Now she tugged at the pieces of fabric caught in the wrap.
"I'm going to check on the wound, alright?" she asked as she moved to slide the fabric from his shoulders.
He nodded and braced himself for her touch, closing his eyes, relaxing. As she eased it from his shoulders, there were a few sharp pangs and he forced himself not to shy away. It grew worse as she unwound the blood-stuck bandages. When she pulled her field dressings wholly away, he opened his eyes and looked at it as best he could from his angle. It was messy, and he couldn't see how deep it went, but it was going to leave a decent scar across his shoulder and chest.
His mouth felt dry as he thought about the strike, saw the rider coming at him once more. After the memory faded, he looked at Cauthrien. He swallowed and said, "If only I'd been just a little faster..." With a glance back at his shoulder he added, "How does it look?"
"Better than it did an hour ago," she assured him, reaching into her pack for fresh poultice and bandages. They'd brought it all for Edlyn, but he ignored that as she set about wiping down the wound and redressing it. "It will scar, though. You're lucky they didn't catch the muscle truly. You might have been down a sword arm, unless you could get a healer soon. As it is, though, I think you'll be okay."
He nodded. "Glad to hear it."
He quieted as he watched her clean what she could with the supplies they had. He held still, even when it stung or instinct told him to pull away. His lips pressed together, white, as he pulled them between his teeth while she wrapped a new bandage around his arm.
Bandage in place, he reached his other hand across to feel at the course fabric. "I'll need a good story about it when it scars," he said and followed it with a shaky smile. His hand moved from his shoulder to cover one of her hands before she pulled away.
"Thank you."
"You were fighting wicked bandits on the road," she offered, her own expression, tense and brittle, easing to a smile. "And you triumphed, saving the lives of you and your companions. If you need more, though, I'm sure we could work in a dragon somehow." Her lips quirked in a silent laugh as she leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
He started to close the distance between them, aching to return her kiss, when his shoulder reminded him with a spike of pain of why that was a poor idea. Shifting back, he put his hand around her waist instead.
"A dragon," he mused, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. Chuckling, he added, "No need for that. The bandits were plenty for me, I think."
As tired as he felt, resting against Cauthrien felt better, and he hummed softly as he kissed her again. The angle and distance was kinder to him and there was no pain in the motion.
When he pulled away, she tilted her chin up to brush her nose against his. "I will tell tales of your triumph," she assured as she began to lower the both of them to the ground, pillowing his body against hers and tangling their legs together. "We did as well as we were able. Nothing more can be asked of us."
It was a reassuring thought and Teagan hoped it was one they could both keep in mind when they rode back to Rainesfere in the morning to deliver the news. Her warmth soothed his worries, and he curled against her. He turned in place as much as he was able, keeping his injured shoulder off the ground. There was only a moment of pain as he found a more comfortable way to balance his arm at his side. He dipped his head into the curve of her shoulder, and kissed her neck down to the collar of her jacket.
She laughed, running her fingers through his hair and pushing his mussed braid behind his ear. "Insatiable," she murmured. "Injured, and at the end of a long day, and you still want to...?" Her tone was fond, though, and as he chuckled, she tilted her head back.
"For you," he whispered, lips just a breath away from her skin. "Always."
Even as he said it, though, he knew he didn't have the strength for anything more than a few kisses. He felt weary from head to toe, even without the throbbing in his shoulder. He laid his head against her shoulder and let out a strained but pleased sigh.
Cauthrien smoothed down his hair and shifted so that her arm was around him. She said nothing, but settled them both more comfortably. With her free arm, she fished for a blanket, then pulled it up to their waists.
"You should sleep."
He nodded and murmured his assent. He wanted nothing more than her warmth and release from the constant press of memories of just how close the horseman's blade had come to ending his life. Comfortable and warm and safe against Cauthrien, he could feel himself sinking already. His only regret that closing his eyes would mean an end to the day. They had so little time left and as he started to drift off, he couldn't help but think of what waking up was going to mean - going home, him to Rainesfere and her soon after to Denerim.
It wasn't going to be enough.
He tilted his chin up and pressed his lips to her neck, soft as an afterthought. "Thank you," he whispered as he tucked himself against her. There were words on his lips, eager for exit. "Cauthrien... "
He drifted off only for a moment before a memory and the ache in his shoulder woke him. But she was there. It was dark and quiet and still he meant to tell her something.
"Cauthrien... "
It was barely even a whisper, a breath and the sleepy movement of his lips against her throat.
I love you.
--
The ride was both too long and far too short.
She insisted Teagan ride in front of her, even if it meant unsaddling her horse and riding bare so that the saddle horn wouldn't hurt him. She braced him with her legs and murmured little jokes to him about that first ride back, how she'd suggested trussing him up and draping him across Calenhad's back. She grinned, and she took the ride for what it was: One of the few days they had left together.
The others averted their eyes or rode ahead to speak to one another in peace. They joked, too, though it was thin even under the high noon sun; Edlyn's death hung like a pall over everybody. Cauthrien shouldered through it out of necessity.
It had been nearly a month, and there were certainly changes to the landscape as they road into the village. The farms they passed were in full growth and activity, roofs patched more firmly, singe marks erased by greens and golds. The town was alive. There were still fragments of her destruction, burned out homes, fields trampled by armies.
But it was recovering. She took it to heart as best she could.
--
It was near dark when they reached Rainesfere. They left Brynden and the others to return to the estate with news of the journey, then veered to the fields to the south of the town. Though Teagan's heart was heavy with the thought of delivering to Edlyn’s parents, the news should not have been delayed or sent in a letter or on the lips of a courier. He ached from riding so long, and as Cauthrien helped him down from Calenhad, he had to stand still a moment to let his muscles relax before he took her hand in his. He knew enough not to keep hold of her as they strode towards the house and gave her a weak and lopsided smile instead.
Edlyn's mother and father greeted them at the door, the optimism on their faces falling when they saw that Edlyn did not stand with them. The house seemed ill-kept in comparison to his last visit, as though activity had ceased in the days since he and Cauthrien had left in search of the girl.
Cauthrien looked to Teagan for only a moment, a question of should you? Should I? creasing her brow. And then she stepped forward and lowered herself down to one knee, bowing her head.
"I am sorry."
Her expression grew shuttered as the father turned away with a pained noise and the mother closed her eyes and stilled.
When Cauthrien spoke again, it was in the same low, controlled voice, even and solemn. Her words hung heavy with the weight of it, but she did not falter. "We cremated her yesterday evening; her soul has gone to the Maker's side."
Teagan took a weary step to Cauthrien’s side, unsure where exactly to look with both of Edlyn’s parents lost in their own grief. He chose the middle-distance between them to focus on and tried not to let the sadness in the room overtake him. He waited.
Edlyn’s mother seemed to recover first, her eyes opening and searching both Cauthrien’s and Teagan’s expressions before turning toward her husband and wrapping her hands around his arm.
Quietly and with a look down to Cauthrien first, he said, "We pray the Maker brings you peace.” He leaned just enough to the side that his fingers could just lightly touch Cauthrien’s shoulder, taking the only comfort he could find and offering it in turn back to her.
Cauthrien didn't look up, glancing down to the pouch at her hip instead. She pulled one of the braided locks of Edlyn's hair from it and rose to her feet, offering it to the mother.
"Here," she said, voice softening, "We couldn't bring her home, but we could do this much."
The woman had accepted the braid, with a whispered thank you and a quiet, choked sob as she curled her fingers around it. Edlyn’s father wrapped his arm around his wife, nodding silently.
When Cauthrien stepped away Teagan added, "Please, if there’s anything I can provide, let me know.” He didn’t know if it was any comfort, or even if they were listening through their shock. He would send something anyway, once he was home and could determine what would be best, even when nothing seemed adequate.
"Thank you," the mother whispered again, but nothing more passed her lips.
Cauthrien looked between them, and then, with a murmured, "Maker keep you," she turned and left the house.
It was clear that Edlyn’s parents needed their own time. They turned into each other’s arms, with heads bowed. Teagan bowed his own head both in reverence and to better watch his steps, and quietly retreated, following after Cauthrien. Nothing they could have said made it better. Edlyn wasn't waiting outside the door, in the garden or in the field. Nothing spoken could make up for that. He assumed there would be questions later, when they had time to let the news settle. They would ask after her, wanting details, reasons. When that happened, he hoped he would be better prepared to offer some measure of peace.
With slow steps, he came close to Cauthrien and slipped his good arm beneath hers, not reaching for her hand, but just to keep her close.
"Home now?” he asked.
She glanced to the keep on the horizon, then shook her head. "No. Édouard. I... owe the man an apology. If you can make it, that is," she added, with a glance back to him.
He nodded though it was hard to hide his fatigue. "I will make it, if it’s something you need to do,” he said, though it was far from a sure thing. They’d gone far, but he would go a little further for her.
His lips quirked, hinting at a smile. "... And if you promise that it’s home just after.”
She nodded. "Home just after. And I'll defend you from Raud and his paperwork and get you to bed. I might even bring up dinner from the kitchens for you." Her own smile was just as faint in return, and she took his hand, leading him over to Calenhad. She helped him mount up, then settled herself behind him. Taking the moment to press a kiss to his jaw, just by his ear, she nudged her steed onto the road towards town.
The ride seemed shorter than every time they had made it before, and Cauthrien spent it largely rubbing comforting circles on Teagan's hip. She rode as quickly as she could without stressing his injury more, and they were soon trotting into the center of Rainsfere, taking the street that passed by Oswin's shop and coming to a halt a hundred feet or so from Édouard's door.
She slipped from Calenhad's back, and looked up to Teagan.
"Do you want to come down?"
"I should,” he mumbled as he stared down at her. He had nearly nodded off, might have if he hadn’t been injured or the ride had been longer. The idea of sleep and food and Cauthrien were all compelling enough to make him eager for home.
With a deep breath to try and stir himself better awake, he leaned back so she could help him down. "... If only to keep from falling asleep up here and having Calenhad run away with me.”
"He can be sneaky like that," she agreed, bracing him in her arms and helping him to solid earth. "I certainly wouldn't trust him." She glanced to Édouard's door. "Will you be coming with me, or...?"
"Only if you want me to.” He swallowed, blinked, and tried to give her a steady look even as the ground under his feet felt a little less than solid. This was something she felt she needed to do, and he wasn’t going to press his way inside if she didn’t want him there. His own rapport with Édouard was tenuous at best after their last conversation and the continuation of the guard around his door until Owen had returned home. The man might be just as likely to turn away at his presence as he would at Cauthrien's. Teagan only hoped Édouard would understand.
Cauthrien pulled him back to her, and he couldn't in that moment imagine Édouard thinking ill of her, not with how the corners of her mouth curled, the muscles around her jaw and eyes softened. "I can do this alone," she murmured. "But he will have chairs. Come on." She led him forward, offering her arm when he took a step without faltering. "I won't have you slumped against a building out here, or falling asleep on your feet."
"You say that- like it might happen.” He chuckled softly and reached for her, knowing full well that if she did leave him alone, he likely would lean against the house and fall asleep.
And then what would the people of Rainesfere say of him?
She guided him for only as long as it took to get him moving, and for her to quickly hitch Calenhad to a nearby post. She let go before they reached Édouard's door, before she knocked.
There was a long moment where nothing happened. The door didn’t open, and there was no noise from the other side. Teagan leaned against the wall to rest and to listen, and when finally there was a noise from the other side, he nodded at Cauthrien.
"Sounds like he’s coming,” he whispered and gathered himself back up.
There was a shuffling sound at the door and then Édouard pulled the door open. The Orlesian sighed, looking between Teagan and Cauthrien.
"Bann Teagan,” he said, then frowned. "Ser Cauthrien.”
"Édouard," she said. "I have come to offer my apologies for my- treatment of you during the investigation." For a moment her easy slip into Orlesian made Teagan frown as he fought to catch up, but it made sense. It was appropriate. It was polite. There was no disgust in her eyes as she spoke the words, no clipping of syllables or any other sign of her dislike for it.
Édouard seemed to see it as well, the change in her from the last time they had spoken, and the tension in his shoulders eased somewhat. "Oh?” The older man stroked his beard, pressing at the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. "You sound as though it has concluded. Have you found her? Is the little flower safe?”
"... We-" Cauthrien faltered. She glanced to Teagan; when he gave only a nod in support, she took a deep breath and looked back to the other man. "We were too late."
Édouard’s hand went to his eyes, closing them. But his other hand opened the door wide, and he leaned his arm against the door and turned away from them. He remained quiet for a moment, and then in a low voice asked over his shoulder, "Would you like to come inside?”
Cauthrien worried at her lip, and Teagan could see her thinking, searching for words that didn't come easily to her. Finally, she said, "If this conversation will do any good, then yes. I am at your disposal."
Édouard rolled his shoulder and let his hand fall away from the door, taking a few steps further into the house. It was a silent assent, an invitation.
Teagan lifted a hand to Cauthrien’s back, giving her a slight push though the door and a small nod of encouragement. It would be good for her to talk further, even if it was uncomfortable.
"Go on,” he whispered and took his own steps forward behind her.
Cauthrien looked back at him with a grim smile - her duty smile - and followed after Édouard. "She ran away with Oswin's boy," she said.
"I heard as much.” Édouard shook his head. "A good boy. He was always good to her.”
Her shoulders rose with her steadying breath. "They met with bandits on the road. We tracked them down, but it was- too late." Her voice remained composed and solemn as it had been at Edlyn's farm, but he could see the strain of talking it out again creasing her brow. His own weariness grew heavier at her words.
Édouard walked to the small table in his kitchen and dropped down into a chair. "She- " He looked at Cauthrien hopefully, almost daring.
Cauthrien only shook her head. "We were too late. We released her soul to the Maker last evening. I…
"I am sorry."
Édouard's head bowed and he nodded as he looked down to his hands on the table. "Maker-” he whispered. He was quiet again for a long time after, though his lips still moved in some soundless prayer. When he looked up his eyes were red and he inhaled deeply.
Cauthrien met his gaze even when Teagan looked away. "I am sorry- for having questioned your involvement, and for as long as I did. I just-" She hesitated, the barest tremor in her voice. "... I just wanted to bring her home safe. I thought I knew how."
Teagan wanted to reach for Cauthrien’s hand, wanted to lead her out. But he did neither even though the tone in her voice concerned him. He watched her carefully.
Édouard took a long breath. His face had gone pale, his eyes distant, and his voice rang hollow as he whispered, "I- I thank you.”
She didn't respond at first, and when she did, it was with a nod and, "Is there anything I can do?"
"Could-" He swallowed. "Could I have her practices back? The pages I sent?” Édouard sighed. "I know it must seem frivolous, but it’s what I have.”
A month ago, Cauthrien would have questioned his motives. Now, she only nodded. With a glance to Teagan, she said, "I see no reason you can't."
So much had changed. Teagan nodded. "… I’ll have someone bring the pages as soon as we return to the estate.”
"Thank you,” Édouard said and gave her a small nod. With that, he stood up from the table. "Thank you.”
She nodded, almost a bow. "Maker keep you, Édouard," she said, and then with another nod, she turned to the door.
"And you, Ser Cauthrien.”
Teagan nodded to Édouard. "Thank you, Édouard," he said, offering a smile, an open palm. "Please let me know if there’s anything else we can do.”
"I will. Thank you, Bann Teagan.” The man escorted them both to the front door, leaning his hand on the handle, his shoulders bowed and head hung low.
Cauthrien stepped out into the street, shoulders sagging as soon as she was outside. Teagan shuffled out of the house behind her, with a wave to Édouard before the man closed the door behind them both. He reached for Cauthrien’s hand as soon as he was able, both for comfort and for balance.
He cracked a smile, a bare mask of his exhaustion. "Now?”
"Home," she said as she brought him back to Calenhad, giving him her shoulder to lean on. "Sleep, food, and wine."
And living the two days they had left together.
He let out a soft groan, something like relief flooding through him, and for a moment he stood a little straighter. His smile brightened a little more. And then he looked at her with those same tired eyes, and he felt certain that in that moment, he needed nothing more than sleep and Cauthrien at his side.
"Good,” he whispered. "I’m very ready for that.”
"As am I."
She helped him up onto Calenhad, then unhitched the lead and swung up behind him. The ride back was filled with little moments, as she pulled him against her more than she needed to, and left kisses behind his ear. He could feel her smile on his skin and he settled against her as they rode for the keep.
For home.
--
Two days passed too quickly. They were spent in his bed, in his arms, at his table - as close to him as she could stay while the world continued around them. They sent out the writing samples to Édouard, they met again with Edlyn's parents. They ate and slept and lived as best they could.
But it was only two days.
He had made it a point even before they had ridden out in search of Edlyn to keep her in bed as long as possible, to stretch out alongside her in the warmth and comfort of his bed and win her with kisses. The rhythm of work had made her want to resist then. She had argued that she would waste to nothing if he kept her cocooned, and he had countered by dragging his fingers along the curve of her hip and chuckling and saying there was more to her than muscle. Just a few days a week, he'd promised.
Those two days, though, they stayed in bed until they could no longer, breathing the same air and memorizing the rise and fall of each other's bodies, each scar, each fresh wound, each birth mark and story.
She stayed by him every moment of every day that she could manage.
And she stayed by him now while one of the stablehands saddled and prepared Calenhad, because she didn't want to do it herself and lose that last gasp of time. She rested her head against his neck, his shoulder, as he wound his arms around her. They had no heavy blankets to ward off the outside world with, but she had him, at least, for a shield.
He held on to her, curling a hand around the back of her neck, fingers sliding up in to her hair. His other hand moved in soft strokes, offering comfort. Her eyes were half closed, and she couldn't find words to return his offering with. The ache that had lodged in her chest was almost too much to bear, in its strength and its unfamiliarity.
This was no parting from her lord. It was something other.
"I have still had no word from the Queen," she murmured. "I might still be able to return."
"Let us pray that might hold true,” he said as he dipped his head and pressed his cheek against hers. "I would like nothing more.”
She nodded. "And I-"
When she'd ridden to Rainesfere, she had wanted a fight. She had wanted rejection. She had wanted him to play out every pain of hers she still felt in the wake of the Blight. It would have been easy to leave, then. But here, now, there were moments where sentiment nearly outweighed duty.
She wanted to promise him she would return, or that she wouldn't leave in the first place.
Cauthrien took a deep breath. "If I could stay," she said, "I would."
His grip on her tightened. "I wish..." he breathed, and then paused in search of words.
She had grown so close to him over the last month that she could imagine what he would say, how he would say it, the tone of his voice, the furrowing of his brow. She didn't let him. Instead, she turned her head enough to kiss him, then press her forehead to his.
"Thank you," she murmured.
His mouth still hung open, as if he would yet speak. But when the words didn't come, when she stole them from him, he rested his forehead against hers and tightened his arms around her and just- breathed.
Cauthrien breathed with him. If they had nothing else, they had that moment.
She cupped the side of his face, thumb stroking over his braid, fingers trailing through his hair and around the shell of his ear. She knew every inch of him. She would have to content herself with that.
"This month-" she tried, then faltered, then laughed, a helpless thing. "I would not have had it any other way."
"Well-” he laughed with her, and for a moment couldn't stop, his breath shuddering and catching. Finally, he murmured, "Nor I.”
Even with the fear, the pain, the loss - the failures - it had led to them standing in the stables. She refused to wish for anything beyond.
There was a soft sound, boots on hay, and she knew it was the stablehand come to tell her that Calenhad was ready. She didn't turn. She caught Teagan's gaze and offered him a small smile, then kissed him again.
To think that just that morning might be the last time she ever woke up beside him-
She didn't think about that.
His arms tightened still more, making it almost hard to breathe as he returned her kiss, slow and languid and gentle enough to make her heart ache. When he pulled away, it wasn't far, and he didn't look away. "How long will it take you?” he asked as though they hadn’t already had this conversation, as though he didn’t already know the answer.
"Two weeks' ride to Denerim. I'll write you when I arrive, and as soon as I know what the Queen will have of me next. At least a month before you hear from me." And if she remained in Denerim, at least a month between his letters.
But he nodded all the same, his smile widening. "I’m eager for news already,” he said, following it with a light kiss, as if it were nothing, as if it were good. She held on to his good humor, even if he used it now as a mask.
"I'll compose it on the road, maybe, so I can send it the moment I pass the city gates," she said, smile turning to a grin for just a moment. "Though if I do that, my spelling's going to be disappointing."
He reached up to grab her hand, sliding his fingers between hers and squeezing tight. "I'm no stranger to disappointment," he said, and a laugh cracked from her throat at the thought of Bann Disappointment. He smiled. "But I have something for that, actually.” He nodded towards Calenhad and then exchanged a look with the stablehand. "Check your bag," he said, and stepped aside even as he kept their fingers entwined.
She looked between Teagan, the stablehand, and her horse, questioning and a little amused, and then she made her way over, not letting go for even a moment. She reached for the saddlebag and undid the catch.
Carefully, she pulled out a large book - heavy, leather-bound, and familiar.
The History of Rainesfere.
"Oh," she said, and then she looked to him with a lopsided smile. "Yes, I think this will help."
He stepped closer so he could tap a finger against the book’s cover. With a half-shrug and a grin, he said, "There’s a note inside too.”
She glanced up at him again, then opened the cover. She couldn't help her laugh, or her blush, and she traced his handwriting with her thumb.
So that you always remember our spelling lessons.
"I don't think I would have ever forgotten," she said when she looked back up to him. "But the reminder is..." When words didn't come, she shook her head and laughed again.
"You don’t have to forget, to need the reminder,” he said and laid his other hand over hers. She laughed and felt heat rest in her cheeks, bloom between his hands. He pressed on without hesitation, dropping his voice to murmur, "I wish I had something better to give.” He looked up at her, more solemn than before.
The bubbling, sharp and frightened laughter in her stilled at last. She shook her head. "No. This is perfect. This and- this whole month. You've given me more than enough."
She only wished she could give something in return.
With another fond glance at the note, she closed the book and packed it away again. The bag cinched, she stroked Calenhad's flank a moment, then turned to Teagan once more.
He was watching her. "I- You’ve given me... so much,” he whispered, and wrapped his free arm back around her, leaning in to kiss her.
She kissed him back with something like a sob, something broken and shuddering though it made no sound. Her shoulders didn't bow, her breath did not sigh out of her, but she felt the pain all the same, cutting through the last shreds of lightness.
To give this all up-
But finally she stepped back. He tried to keep her close, to pull her back to him, to draw out her kisses as long as he could, and it took all of her will not to go to him. She took a deep breath and pulled her hand from his.
"Until we meet again, then," she murmured.
His gaze dropped to the ground, and he drew in a long, unsteady breath to match hers.
"Maker-” he whispered and bit at his lip. "Maker watch over you, Cauthrien.”
"And may He keep you safe," she returned, before swinging herself up into her saddle.
She would ride hard; the further she was from Rainsfere by nightfall, and the more tired Calenhad was, the smaller the chance would be that she would simply turn around. From atop her mount, she gave him a last, small smile.
She thought for a moment to say, Catch me. Or Follow. Or any other words that would make him ride out after her, face down her duty, and bring her back. Her hand curled over her stomach and she thought, too, to maybe tell him about the passage of weeks- but no. There was nothing to tell. There was no truth to it, only fear. This wasn't the time for it - for words, or worries, or possibilities.
They had to part. There was simply nothing else to it.
So instead, all she said was, "Goodbye, Teagan."
And then she spurred Calenhad out of the stable and away from Rainesfere's keep and its Bann.
--
For two days, Teagan did little other than work and think about how easy it would be to take a horse from the stables when Raud wasn’t watching him and ride after her. He thought about it often enough that he could estimate where she was- what village she might have stopped near- how long it might take him to catch up.
But Raud kept a close eye on him, handing him more things that needed his attention than Teagan thought was strictly necessary. Some part of him recognized this as a kindness, even as the most recent batch of papers was set on his desk. It was a distraction, a needed one, and an anchor to keep him where he had to be. Raud hovered nearby, and Teagan nodded to him, murmured a thank you.
Raud didn't step away. Instead, he cleared his throat and extended his hand, a rolled parchment between his fingers.
"Message, my lord, from-” he turned the parchment to show a seal- "the Queen.”
Teagan was more alert in that moment than he had been in the two days since her departure. He reached for the letter, snatching it greedily from Raud’s fingers. He broke the seal with no hesitation and spread the letter out on his desk.
23 August, 9:31 Dragon
Bann Teagan Guerrin,
May the Maker allow this letter to find you well.
I have received a most interesting report from Ser Cauthrien. She claims that you and she have begun an intimate relationship. This was not my intent in sending her to you, although, if what she says is true, my estimation of your character suggests that you must not be in a relationship with the Warden-Commander Cousland.
You will of course understand that this dalliance with Ser Cauthrien does cast a poor light on her reports of your trustworthiness and loyalty. I am sure she has told you of her purpose in Rainesfere, and so I will be frank with you: you hold a position of great influence, and while I thank you for your support at the Landsmeet, I believe it is prudent to be wary of your continued association with the Warden-Commander and your actions outside of this country.
To that end, I have sent men to aid your own efforts. Their orders are to find and bring Alistair back to Ferelden, where I might keep an eye on him and where you may be assured as to his safety. While I must doubt Ser Cauthrien's accuracy and insight, I do not question her report that you are most focused on Alistair's well-being. I have other sources that confirm as much.
May the Maker watch over you,
Anora Mac Tir,
Queen and Teyrn of Ferelden
Postscript: Ser Cauthrien will not be returning to Rainesfere for the foreseeable future; I have much need of her here in Denerim.
He started to roll the parchment back up, but the sting of Anora’s last sentence had him tossing it across the desk before he finished. He watched as Raud stepped around the desk, reaching down after the letter.
"Don’t. Just- leave it there,” he said through clenched teeth as he reached for parchment of his own.
Teagan pushed aside the other pages and work on his desk, clearing space to write. He grabbed a quill, dipped it in ink, and wrote.
Dear Queen.
The End
(And that's the end - of this section of the story. But we're not quite done with them…)
Authors: cherith & serindrana
Game: Dragon Age: Origins
Pairing: Bann Teagan/Ser Cauthrien
Series Rating: NC-17/AO
Chapter Rating: T
Series Wordcount: 99,400
Chapter Wordcount: 9,043
Warnings: Dark. Violence and abduction. Reference to sexual assault.
Summary: Edlyn is found. The return to Rainsfere is accompanied by duty and regret - as is the final leaving of it. (Ao3) (FF)
Notes: War is Never Cheap Here is now finished! It's been a great ride (and Maker, it's taken nearly half a year), and we're so glad you came along with us. We have other projects in the works, so remain on the look out. Thank you all so much for reading and supporting.
Until our next story starts up, expect occasional posts relating to auxiliary fanworks for War - the fanmix (again), art, etc.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Chapter Twelve
They followed the horsemen's trail for half a day, picking into the forest and away from the road, from the river. Cauthrien kept Teagan braced against her chest and in her saddle as they rode, her eyes straying again and again to the makeshift bandage tied quickly around his shoulder. He was still bleeding, weak and barely conscious, and he didn't complain once about the discomfort of sitting in a saddle made for one.
She would have stopped to attend to his wound immediately, but he had told her no, get Edlyn.
The trail took them to an empty clearing, a stream not a hundred paces away. There were the remains of a fire pit, a small midden speaking to long days of occupation, crushed grass where tents had been.
And there was a pile of earth, dark and bare, mounded up in one corner of the field.
"No," Hilde whispered, and Brynden turned away. It was Jaron, who had led them along the horsemen's tracks, who dismounted first. They had no shovels, only small trowels, but he forced them into Hilde's and Brynden's hands and went to dig up the disturbed earth.
Cauthrien looked after them, then pressed a kiss to the back of Teagan's head, sliding out of the saddle. She helped bring him down after her, walking him a few feet away and easing him to the ground. Smiling tightly, she went to pull her field kit down from her horse. A steel needle, oiled twine - she could do this.
Her kit set aside, she tried to laugh and smile and joke, if only to keep him awake, if only to keep him from noticing what they had found. "A story to tell Raud," she murmured, as she settled his weight against her. It would be harder to work, but she didn't want him to fall.
"Yes," he muttered, voice thin and weak, and then he smiled. As she pressed the needle and twine to his shoulder, he closed his eyes, though the lids fluttered at every prick. His lips moved and contorted, his brow furrowed, and once she thought he said her name. But then he sagged heavy and limp against her and his face softened. He slept.
The stitches made, poultice smoothed over the wound, and bandages wrapped tight around his arm, she sat back and looked at him. She hoped it was only from the strain; the injury had not seemed so severe, or she would have attended it before they followed the trail. Nerves churned in her stomach, and a small shout came from where the guards worked at digging.
Carefully, she shrugged out of her arming jacket and wrapped it into a bundle, settling it beneath his head as she laid him on the ground. She was just rising to her feet when Hilde called, breathless,
"We've found her."
Cauthrien didn't move, staring down at Teagan for a long moment.
She then turned, striding over to the others. They had uncovered the barest tip of a nose, the curve of a full cheek, the swell of a shoulder. She crouched with them and used her hands to help move the last of the earth.
Edlyn.
Her hair was pale brown and though not braided, it was long enough to be worn so, with kinks and curls to it that spoke of regular plaiting. She was young - too young - and she matched every detail the family had given them.
And she was dead.
She was dead and buried in the ground without so much as a scrap of clothing. There were bruises on her skin, dried blood, and Cauthrien finally ordered the others away.
"Build a pyre," she said.
"The chantry-"
"We cannot take her home like his. Her family should not see it."
Nobody responded, and for a moment, nobody moved. And then Brynden gave an order and the other two followed, and life began to crawl once more.
Cauthrien wrapped Edlyn's body in a blanket. She plaited a lock of hair on the girl's head, then cut it, knotted it, and placed it into a small pouch to deliver to the family. She took another plait for Owen after a moment's thought. She whispered the few words of the Chant that she knew, and then she went to help build the pyre.
--
When he woke, he felt stiff and sore and there was a throbbing pain in his shoulder. He shifted, feeling the ground beneath him. It took a moment to recall where he was and why he hurt but as he did, he tried to sit up. Difficult as it was and not wanting to put pressure on his arm, he managed to roll to his other side, fold his legs and use his other arm to push up to a seated position.
He saw the fire first, and called out for Cauthrien.
She turned at the sound of his voice, looking utterly exhausted and lit only by the flickering flames. She left the guards to go to his side and crouched down beside him, murmuring only,
"Edlyn is dead."
He swallowed, throat dry. His stomach churned and nearly revolted, soured and roiling as he inhaled the smoke of the pyre. He turned his head away from it. His head bowed. "Maker..."
They had both known that with all the time that had passed, it wasn't likely they would find her alive. But they had hoped so fervently to be wrong, to find her and to be able to return her home. He closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer for Edlyn and her family. It was the only thing he could do, and he clung to it.
It was several moments before he looked back at Cauthrien.
"The fire?" He knew it already, knew the smell of burnt hair on the wind, but he had to hear it from her.
Cauthrien obliged, looking over to the now-dying flames. "Funeral pyre. The state she was in... her family shouldn't have seen her like that. It is better this way."
He swallowed again and nodded. It would be harder to explain why they had returned without a body, but he trusted her.
She settled down onto the ground and put a hand lightly on his uninjured shoulder. "I took plaits of her hair to give to her family. They will have... something to remember her by. Or to offer at a proper funeral."
"That was thoughtful. Some day, I’m sure they will be thankful to have something - to have done something." He fell silent, another prayer forming in his mind. He looked into the fire as he leaned into her touch, and watched it burn down to embers.
"Too late to start back, I take it?" he asked, voice hoarse and heart weary.
She took a deep breath, then let it out in a half-sigh. "We could go, but everybody is exhausted. And how is your arm? Are you-" Her words trailed off and she reached up to touch his jaw again, thumbing his cheek. "I was afraid."
"It's been better." With a sigh, he leaned his head against her hand. "I'm sorry - if I had been faster, I could have avoided him altogether." He tried not to think about the fact that if he had been any slower, the strike would've caught him in the chest instead of the shoulder.
She pressed a kiss to his forehead, then rested her cheek against the crown of his head.
"And if I had been faster, I would have been between the two of you. As it is, though- when you passed out, I was afraid we had rushed too much for nothing. If we had found Edlyn but somehow lost you-"
"But you didn't." He closed his eyes again.
When he spoke again, it was with the measured, forced calm he'd learned to use from a young age. "Was there anything left by the men here?" They could only make assumptions on why the bandits had taken her. Without them to ask and Edlyn dead, there was no way to know for certain. Teagan frowned. They were too far away now to even search the bandits' horses.
Cauthrien shook her head, the barest movement against his. "No. There was just a grave. But given the state of the body and the trophies they took, I... can't find it in me to doubt what happened." She sighed and he couldn't help the frown, couldn't help turning away from her.
"We'll ride out tomorrow," she murmured. "Without anything to track, we might make it in a day and a half. We can move as quickly as you like - or are able."
"Ah," he lifted his hand and laid it on her leg. "I'm sorry."
He fell quiet again, resting against her and fighting the sleep that still tugged at him. From somewhere in the near distance he could hear the others preparing their camp for the night, and he turned his head to watch them in the growing dark. They had built their camp on the far side of the clearing, and he saw the flare of the campfire being lit. Hilde was helping Jaron set up the tents, while Brynden took cooking duties. His stomach rumbled though he didn't feel much like eating.
"I should be able to ride in the morning... with enough rest," he said at last, lifting his head and looking to her.
"Then you will have all the night to rest," she assured him, shifting to better settle him against her. "Try to wiggle your fingers? Do you have feeling everywhere?"
He glanced down; a thought and his fingers wiggled easily. A knot he hadn't realized had settled in his chest loosened, and he nodded with a faint smile. There was pain there but to move his fingers did not take so much effort.
"Seems so."
"Good. It didn't seem too bad, but I was still worried." Her returned smile was also weak. "We should get you closer to the fire," she added. "Do you think you could stand and walk a little?"
"Won’t know until I try.” He took a few deep breaths in preparation and pulled himself away from her, though he felt warm enough and was content to stay as they were.
He moved his hand from her leg, setting it on the ground to push against as he folded his legs. There were several twinges of pain from his shoulder as he moved, though none of them were so long or painful enough to stop him. As he rocked forward he gave Cauthrien a sidelong glance and frowned.
"I may need a little help,” he admitted.
"I'm here," she said, and slipped an arm around him once more to help him up. He grimaced even as she took his weight on her shoulder, guiding him a few short steps towards the fire. "Let me know if you need to rest or if I'm slow enough that you're going mad from it."
"I think,” he said, "if the camp were any farther away, I would go mad.” It was mostly fatigue that made him waver, and the seemingly endless stretch of earth taunted him. The smell of the food Brynden prepared turned his stomach and he looked for a spot to sit away from the food, tugging on Cauthrien’s arm as he leaned towards a place.
She helped him take a seat, crouching down beside him. "What do you think you can keep down?" she asked. "You should eat something - it's been nearly a whole day." There was still worry, etched alongside the exhaustion on her brow, and if he had felt stronger, he would have tried to smooth it away.
Instead, he could only shake his head, his braid falling free. "Not much.” He shrugged, then winced at the pain in his shoulder. "Perhaps a bit of bread? Some water if we have it.”
"We do." She smiled and touched his uninjured arm, then stood up. Turning from him and striding towards the fire, she called out a question about the watch that night to Hilde. She spent a moment there, talking with the others, before returning to his side. Sitting down beside him, she offered a small piece of the soft interior of a loaf and a water skin. "I'll be with you all night," she said. "Playing nurse."
He smiled at that. Taking the food she offered with his good hand, he said, "I don’t know how good of company I’m likely to be.”
After a few nibbles of the bread, waiting to see if his stomach protested at all, he set the bread on his knee and reached for the water. He took a few small sips and then handed it back to her. It seemed to settle, if resting heavy in his belly, and he reached for the bread again.
"Though it does sound nice,” he murmured as he finished it off and took the water back..
She laughed, rubbing at the small of his back in small circles. "A little more time spent together," she agreed. "I wouldn't want to leave you alone after today."
He slid his hand to her leg, squeezing her knee. There was a bit of melancholy in that thought. It was a blessing to spend a little more time with Cauthrien, but he hadn't wanted it to be because of an injury, and even less because of what had happened to Edlyn. And now there was so little time. There would be almost none left when they reached home, not much more than it took for her to rest and pack and set back on the road to Denerim.
He frowned as he leaned against her, sinking into the pressure of her hand against his back and closing his eyes. He murmured a quiet thank you against her shoulder.
A little more time.
Cauthrien shifted against him, then leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "Do you want to go to the tent? Hilde has it set up," she murmured as she pulled away only by degrees. When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him with a small smile.
He wanted a lot of things in that moment: a little more strength to move on his own, a little less pain in his shoulder, a little more time. A lot more time. A chance to have been able to rescue Edlyn. He could never have those things, not now.
But they had some time to enjoy, even mixed with sadness as it was.
"I do," he said with a nod.
Pulling away from her hand, he leaned in to return her kiss with one of his own. He rocked forward, preparing to stand, and used his good arm to push himself up. There was an ache in his shoulder, a tingling through his upper arm as if to remind him it was still there and he grunted quietly as he moved.
She was there, helping him up and bracing him against her side. The walk to the tent was stumbling and too-long, but she bid goodnight to the others and helped him into the shade of it.
Their bedrolls were already laid out; the others knew, of course, that they shared a tent and didn't bother pretending it wasn't true. He knew that it had embarrassed her before. But now she moved without self-consciousness, helped him down, moved to tug off his boots with just a smile and a shake of her head.
"Tell me if I hurt you."
He hissed once as he tried to put weight on his arm once he was on the bedroll. His head bowed as he cradled his hand in his lap, he watched her work to remove his boots. Part of him wanted to laugh at her words. She was treating him gently, tenderly and it was a part of her that he hadn't seen since she had struck him on that field. It was hard to feel light-hearted with everything that had happened, but if he watched her, focused on her, he could try.
He wiggled his toes a little as she freed them from his boots and gave her a broader smile.
"I have no complaints thus far."
"Good," she said, and quickly unlaced and removed her own shoes, then set about turning their few blankets into a more comfortable bed for him. That done, she moved to him. She began to undo the toggles of his doublet. It had been slashed open and she had bandaged him through the gap. Now she tugged at the pieces of fabric caught in the wrap.
"I'm going to check on the wound, alright?" she asked as she moved to slide the fabric from his shoulders.
He nodded and braced himself for her touch, closing his eyes, relaxing. As she eased it from his shoulders, there were a few sharp pangs and he forced himself not to shy away. It grew worse as she unwound the blood-stuck bandages. When she pulled her field dressings wholly away, he opened his eyes and looked at it as best he could from his angle. It was messy, and he couldn't see how deep it went, but it was going to leave a decent scar across his shoulder and chest.
His mouth felt dry as he thought about the strike, saw the rider coming at him once more. After the memory faded, he looked at Cauthrien. He swallowed and said, "If only I'd been just a little faster..." With a glance back at his shoulder he added, "How does it look?"
"Better than it did an hour ago," she assured him, reaching into her pack for fresh poultice and bandages. They'd brought it all for Edlyn, but he ignored that as she set about wiping down the wound and redressing it. "It will scar, though. You're lucky they didn't catch the muscle truly. You might have been down a sword arm, unless you could get a healer soon. As it is, though, I think you'll be okay."
He nodded. "Glad to hear it."
He quieted as he watched her clean what she could with the supplies they had. He held still, even when it stung or instinct told him to pull away. His lips pressed together, white, as he pulled them between his teeth while she wrapped a new bandage around his arm.
Bandage in place, he reached his other hand across to feel at the course fabric. "I'll need a good story about it when it scars," he said and followed it with a shaky smile. His hand moved from his shoulder to cover one of her hands before she pulled away.
"Thank you."
"You were fighting wicked bandits on the road," she offered, her own expression, tense and brittle, easing to a smile. "And you triumphed, saving the lives of you and your companions. If you need more, though, I'm sure we could work in a dragon somehow." Her lips quirked in a silent laugh as she leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
He started to close the distance between them, aching to return her kiss, when his shoulder reminded him with a spike of pain of why that was a poor idea. Shifting back, he put his hand around her waist instead.
"A dragon," he mused, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. Chuckling, he added, "No need for that. The bandits were plenty for me, I think."
As tired as he felt, resting against Cauthrien felt better, and he hummed softly as he kissed her again. The angle and distance was kinder to him and there was no pain in the motion.
When he pulled away, she tilted her chin up to brush her nose against his. "I will tell tales of your triumph," she assured as she began to lower the both of them to the ground, pillowing his body against hers and tangling their legs together. "We did as well as we were able. Nothing more can be asked of us."
It was a reassuring thought and Teagan hoped it was one they could both keep in mind when they rode back to Rainesfere in the morning to deliver the news. Her warmth soothed his worries, and he curled against her. He turned in place as much as he was able, keeping his injured shoulder off the ground. There was only a moment of pain as he found a more comfortable way to balance his arm at his side. He dipped his head into the curve of her shoulder, and kissed her neck down to the collar of her jacket.
She laughed, running her fingers through his hair and pushing his mussed braid behind his ear. "Insatiable," she murmured. "Injured, and at the end of a long day, and you still want to...?" Her tone was fond, though, and as he chuckled, she tilted her head back.
"For you," he whispered, lips just a breath away from her skin. "Always."
Even as he said it, though, he knew he didn't have the strength for anything more than a few kisses. He felt weary from head to toe, even without the throbbing in his shoulder. He laid his head against her shoulder and let out a strained but pleased sigh.
Cauthrien smoothed down his hair and shifted so that her arm was around him. She said nothing, but settled them both more comfortably. With her free arm, she fished for a blanket, then pulled it up to their waists.
"You should sleep."
He nodded and murmured his assent. He wanted nothing more than her warmth and release from the constant press of memories of just how close the horseman's blade had come to ending his life. Comfortable and warm and safe against Cauthrien, he could feel himself sinking already. His only regret that closing his eyes would mean an end to the day. They had so little time left and as he started to drift off, he couldn't help but think of what waking up was going to mean - going home, him to Rainesfere and her soon after to Denerim.
It wasn't going to be enough.
He tilted his chin up and pressed his lips to her neck, soft as an afterthought. "Thank you," he whispered as he tucked himself against her. There were words on his lips, eager for exit. "Cauthrien... "
He drifted off only for a moment before a memory and the ache in his shoulder woke him. But she was there. It was dark and quiet and still he meant to tell her something.
"Cauthrien... "
It was barely even a whisper, a breath and the sleepy movement of his lips against her throat.
I love you.
--
The ride was both too long and far too short.
She insisted Teagan ride in front of her, even if it meant unsaddling her horse and riding bare so that the saddle horn wouldn't hurt him. She braced him with her legs and murmured little jokes to him about that first ride back, how she'd suggested trussing him up and draping him across Calenhad's back. She grinned, and she took the ride for what it was: One of the few days they had left together.
The others averted their eyes or rode ahead to speak to one another in peace. They joked, too, though it was thin even under the high noon sun; Edlyn's death hung like a pall over everybody. Cauthrien shouldered through it out of necessity.
It had been nearly a month, and there were certainly changes to the landscape as they road into the village. The farms they passed were in full growth and activity, roofs patched more firmly, singe marks erased by greens and golds. The town was alive. There were still fragments of her destruction, burned out homes, fields trampled by armies.
But it was recovering. She took it to heart as best she could.
--
It was near dark when they reached Rainesfere. They left Brynden and the others to return to the estate with news of the journey, then veered to the fields to the south of the town. Though Teagan's heart was heavy with the thought of delivering to Edlyn’s parents, the news should not have been delayed or sent in a letter or on the lips of a courier. He ached from riding so long, and as Cauthrien helped him down from Calenhad, he had to stand still a moment to let his muscles relax before he took her hand in his. He knew enough not to keep hold of her as they strode towards the house and gave her a weak and lopsided smile instead.
Edlyn's mother and father greeted them at the door, the optimism on their faces falling when they saw that Edlyn did not stand with them. The house seemed ill-kept in comparison to his last visit, as though activity had ceased in the days since he and Cauthrien had left in search of the girl.
Cauthrien looked to Teagan for only a moment, a question of should you? Should I? creasing her brow. And then she stepped forward and lowered herself down to one knee, bowing her head.
"I am sorry."
Her expression grew shuttered as the father turned away with a pained noise and the mother closed her eyes and stilled.
When Cauthrien spoke again, it was in the same low, controlled voice, even and solemn. Her words hung heavy with the weight of it, but she did not falter. "We cremated her yesterday evening; her soul has gone to the Maker's side."
Teagan took a weary step to Cauthrien’s side, unsure where exactly to look with both of Edlyn’s parents lost in their own grief. He chose the middle-distance between them to focus on and tried not to let the sadness in the room overtake him. He waited.
Edlyn’s mother seemed to recover first, her eyes opening and searching both Cauthrien’s and Teagan’s expressions before turning toward her husband and wrapping her hands around his arm.
Quietly and with a look down to Cauthrien first, he said, "We pray the Maker brings you peace.” He leaned just enough to the side that his fingers could just lightly touch Cauthrien’s shoulder, taking the only comfort he could find and offering it in turn back to her.
Cauthrien didn't look up, glancing down to the pouch at her hip instead. She pulled one of the braided locks of Edlyn's hair from it and rose to her feet, offering it to the mother.
"Here," she said, voice softening, "We couldn't bring her home, but we could do this much."
The woman had accepted the braid, with a whispered thank you and a quiet, choked sob as she curled her fingers around it. Edlyn’s father wrapped his arm around his wife, nodding silently.
When Cauthrien stepped away Teagan added, "Please, if there’s anything I can provide, let me know.” He didn’t know if it was any comfort, or even if they were listening through their shock. He would send something anyway, once he was home and could determine what would be best, even when nothing seemed adequate.
"Thank you," the mother whispered again, but nothing more passed her lips.
Cauthrien looked between them, and then, with a murmured, "Maker keep you," she turned and left the house.
It was clear that Edlyn’s parents needed their own time. They turned into each other’s arms, with heads bowed. Teagan bowed his own head both in reverence and to better watch his steps, and quietly retreated, following after Cauthrien. Nothing they could have said made it better. Edlyn wasn't waiting outside the door, in the garden or in the field. Nothing spoken could make up for that. He assumed there would be questions later, when they had time to let the news settle. They would ask after her, wanting details, reasons. When that happened, he hoped he would be better prepared to offer some measure of peace.
With slow steps, he came close to Cauthrien and slipped his good arm beneath hers, not reaching for her hand, but just to keep her close.
"Home now?” he asked.
She glanced to the keep on the horizon, then shook her head. "No. Édouard. I... owe the man an apology. If you can make it, that is," she added, with a glance back to him.
He nodded though it was hard to hide his fatigue. "I will make it, if it’s something you need to do,” he said, though it was far from a sure thing. They’d gone far, but he would go a little further for her.
His lips quirked, hinting at a smile. "... And if you promise that it’s home just after.”
She nodded. "Home just after. And I'll defend you from Raud and his paperwork and get you to bed. I might even bring up dinner from the kitchens for you." Her own smile was just as faint in return, and she took his hand, leading him over to Calenhad. She helped him mount up, then settled herself behind him. Taking the moment to press a kiss to his jaw, just by his ear, she nudged her steed onto the road towards town.
The ride seemed shorter than every time they had made it before, and Cauthrien spent it largely rubbing comforting circles on Teagan's hip. She rode as quickly as she could without stressing his injury more, and they were soon trotting into the center of Rainsfere, taking the street that passed by Oswin's shop and coming to a halt a hundred feet or so from Édouard's door.
She slipped from Calenhad's back, and looked up to Teagan.
"Do you want to come down?"
"I should,” he mumbled as he stared down at her. He had nearly nodded off, might have if he hadn’t been injured or the ride had been longer. The idea of sleep and food and Cauthrien were all compelling enough to make him eager for home.
With a deep breath to try and stir himself better awake, he leaned back so she could help him down. "... If only to keep from falling asleep up here and having Calenhad run away with me.”
"He can be sneaky like that," she agreed, bracing him in her arms and helping him to solid earth. "I certainly wouldn't trust him." She glanced to Édouard's door. "Will you be coming with me, or...?"
"Only if you want me to.” He swallowed, blinked, and tried to give her a steady look even as the ground under his feet felt a little less than solid. This was something she felt she needed to do, and he wasn’t going to press his way inside if she didn’t want him there. His own rapport with Édouard was tenuous at best after their last conversation and the continuation of the guard around his door until Owen had returned home. The man might be just as likely to turn away at his presence as he would at Cauthrien's. Teagan only hoped Édouard would understand.
Cauthrien pulled him back to her, and he couldn't in that moment imagine Édouard thinking ill of her, not with how the corners of her mouth curled, the muscles around her jaw and eyes softened. "I can do this alone," she murmured. "But he will have chairs. Come on." She led him forward, offering her arm when he took a step without faltering. "I won't have you slumped against a building out here, or falling asleep on your feet."
"You say that- like it might happen.” He chuckled softly and reached for her, knowing full well that if she did leave him alone, he likely would lean against the house and fall asleep.
And then what would the people of Rainesfere say of him?
She guided him for only as long as it took to get him moving, and for her to quickly hitch Calenhad to a nearby post. She let go before they reached Édouard's door, before she knocked.
There was a long moment where nothing happened. The door didn’t open, and there was no noise from the other side. Teagan leaned against the wall to rest and to listen, and when finally there was a noise from the other side, he nodded at Cauthrien.
"Sounds like he’s coming,” he whispered and gathered himself back up.
There was a shuffling sound at the door and then Édouard pulled the door open. The Orlesian sighed, looking between Teagan and Cauthrien.
"Bann Teagan,” he said, then frowned. "Ser Cauthrien.”
"Édouard," she said. "I have come to offer my apologies for my- treatment of you during the investigation." For a moment her easy slip into Orlesian made Teagan frown as he fought to catch up, but it made sense. It was appropriate. It was polite. There was no disgust in her eyes as she spoke the words, no clipping of syllables or any other sign of her dislike for it.
Édouard seemed to see it as well, the change in her from the last time they had spoken, and the tension in his shoulders eased somewhat. "Oh?” The older man stroked his beard, pressing at the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. "You sound as though it has concluded. Have you found her? Is the little flower safe?”
"... We-" Cauthrien faltered. She glanced to Teagan; when he gave only a nod in support, she took a deep breath and looked back to the other man. "We were too late."
Édouard’s hand went to his eyes, closing them. But his other hand opened the door wide, and he leaned his arm against the door and turned away from them. He remained quiet for a moment, and then in a low voice asked over his shoulder, "Would you like to come inside?”
Cauthrien worried at her lip, and Teagan could see her thinking, searching for words that didn't come easily to her. Finally, she said, "If this conversation will do any good, then yes. I am at your disposal."
Édouard rolled his shoulder and let his hand fall away from the door, taking a few steps further into the house. It was a silent assent, an invitation.
Teagan lifted a hand to Cauthrien’s back, giving her a slight push though the door and a small nod of encouragement. It would be good for her to talk further, even if it was uncomfortable.
"Go on,” he whispered and took his own steps forward behind her.
Cauthrien looked back at him with a grim smile - her duty smile - and followed after Édouard. "She ran away with Oswin's boy," she said.
"I heard as much.” Édouard shook his head. "A good boy. He was always good to her.”
Her shoulders rose with her steadying breath. "They met with bandits on the road. We tracked them down, but it was- too late." Her voice remained composed and solemn as it had been at Edlyn's farm, but he could see the strain of talking it out again creasing her brow. His own weariness grew heavier at her words.
Édouard walked to the small table in his kitchen and dropped down into a chair. "She- " He looked at Cauthrien hopefully, almost daring.
Cauthrien only shook her head. "We were too late. We released her soul to the Maker last evening. I…
"I am sorry."
Édouard's head bowed and he nodded as he looked down to his hands on the table. "Maker-” he whispered. He was quiet again for a long time after, though his lips still moved in some soundless prayer. When he looked up his eyes were red and he inhaled deeply.
Cauthrien met his gaze even when Teagan looked away. "I am sorry- for having questioned your involvement, and for as long as I did. I just-" She hesitated, the barest tremor in her voice. "... I just wanted to bring her home safe. I thought I knew how."
Teagan wanted to reach for Cauthrien’s hand, wanted to lead her out. But he did neither even though the tone in her voice concerned him. He watched her carefully.
Édouard took a long breath. His face had gone pale, his eyes distant, and his voice rang hollow as he whispered, "I- I thank you.”
She didn't respond at first, and when she did, it was with a nod and, "Is there anything I can do?"
"Could-" He swallowed. "Could I have her practices back? The pages I sent?” Édouard sighed. "I know it must seem frivolous, but it’s what I have.”
A month ago, Cauthrien would have questioned his motives. Now, she only nodded. With a glance to Teagan, she said, "I see no reason you can't."
So much had changed. Teagan nodded. "… I’ll have someone bring the pages as soon as we return to the estate.”
"Thank you,” Édouard said and gave her a small nod. With that, he stood up from the table. "Thank you.”
She nodded, almost a bow. "Maker keep you, Édouard," she said, and then with another nod, she turned to the door.
"And you, Ser Cauthrien.”
Teagan nodded to Édouard. "Thank you, Édouard," he said, offering a smile, an open palm. "Please let me know if there’s anything else we can do.”
"I will. Thank you, Bann Teagan.” The man escorted them both to the front door, leaning his hand on the handle, his shoulders bowed and head hung low.
Cauthrien stepped out into the street, shoulders sagging as soon as she was outside. Teagan shuffled out of the house behind her, with a wave to Édouard before the man closed the door behind them both. He reached for Cauthrien’s hand as soon as he was able, both for comfort and for balance.
He cracked a smile, a bare mask of his exhaustion. "Now?”
"Home," she said as she brought him back to Calenhad, giving him her shoulder to lean on. "Sleep, food, and wine."
And living the two days they had left together.
He let out a soft groan, something like relief flooding through him, and for a moment he stood a little straighter. His smile brightened a little more. And then he looked at her with those same tired eyes, and he felt certain that in that moment, he needed nothing more than sleep and Cauthrien at his side.
"Good,” he whispered. "I’m very ready for that.”
"As am I."
She helped him up onto Calenhad, then unhitched the lead and swung up behind him. The ride back was filled with little moments, as she pulled him against her more than she needed to, and left kisses behind his ear. He could feel her smile on his skin and he settled against her as they rode for the keep.
For home.
--
Two days passed too quickly. They were spent in his bed, in his arms, at his table - as close to him as she could stay while the world continued around them. They sent out the writing samples to Édouard, they met again with Edlyn's parents. They ate and slept and lived as best they could.
But it was only two days.
He had made it a point even before they had ridden out in search of Edlyn to keep her in bed as long as possible, to stretch out alongside her in the warmth and comfort of his bed and win her with kisses. The rhythm of work had made her want to resist then. She had argued that she would waste to nothing if he kept her cocooned, and he had countered by dragging his fingers along the curve of her hip and chuckling and saying there was more to her than muscle. Just a few days a week, he'd promised.
Those two days, though, they stayed in bed until they could no longer, breathing the same air and memorizing the rise and fall of each other's bodies, each scar, each fresh wound, each birth mark and story.
She stayed by him every moment of every day that she could manage.
And she stayed by him now while one of the stablehands saddled and prepared Calenhad, because she didn't want to do it herself and lose that last gasp of time. She rested her head against his neck, his shoulder, as he wound his arms around her. They had no heavy blankets to ward off the outside world with, but she had him, at least, for a shield.
He held on to her, curling a hand around the back of her neck, fingers sliding up in to her hair. His other hand moved in soft strokes, offering comfort. Her eyes were half closed, and she couldn't find words to return his offering with. The ache that had lodged in her chest was almost too much to bear, in its strength and its unfamiliarity.
This was no parting from her lord. It was something other.
"I have still had no word from the Queen," she murmured. "I might still be able to return."
"Let us pray that might hold true,” he said as he dipped his head and pressed his cheek against hers. "I would like nothing more.”
She nodded. "And I-"
When she'd ridden to Rainesfere, she had wanted a fight. She had wanted rejection. She had wanted him to play out every pain of hers she still felt in the wake of the Blight. It would have been easy to leave, then. But here, now, there were moments where sentiment nearly outweighed duty.
She wanted to promise him she would return, or that she wouldn't leave in the first place.
Cauthrien took a deep breath. "If I could stay," she said, "I would."
His grip on her tightened. "I wish..." he breathed, and then paused in search of words.
She had grown so close to him over the last month that she could imagine what he would say, how he would say it, the tone of his voice, the furrowing of his brow. She didn't let him. Instead, she turned her head enough to kiss him, then press her forehead to his.
"Thank you," she murmured.
His mouth still hung open, as if he would yet speak. But when the words didn't come, when she stole them from him, he rested his forehead against hers and tightened his arms around her and just- breathed.
Cauthrien breathed with him. If they had nothing else, they had that moment.
She cupped the side of his face, thumb stroking over his braid, fingers trailing through his hair and around the shell of his ear. She knew every inch of him. She would have to content herself with that.
"This month-" she tried, then faltered, then laughed, a helpless thing. "I would not have had it any other way."
"Well-” he laughed with her, and for a moment couldn't stop, his breath shuddering and catching. Finally, he murmured, "Nor I.”
Even with the fear, the pain, the loss - the failures - it had led to them standing in the stables. She refused to wish for anything beyond.
There was a soft sound, boots on hay, and she knew it was the stablehand come to tell her that Calenhad was ready. She didn't turn. She caught Teagan's gaze and offered him a small smile, then kissed him again.
To think that just that morning might be the last time she ever woke up beside him-
She didn't think about that.
His arms tightened still more, making it almost hard to breathe as he returned her kiss, slow and languid and gentle enough to make her heart ache. When he pulled away, it wasn't far, and he didn't look away. "How long will it take you?” he asked as though they hadn’t already had this conversation, as though he didn’t already know the answer.
"Two weeks' ride to Denerim. I'll write you when I arrive, and as soon as I know what the Queen will have of me next. At least a month before you hear from me." And if she remained in Denerim, at least a month between his letters.
But he nodded all the same, his smile widening. "I’m eager for news already,” he said, following it with a light kiss, as if it were nothing, as if it were good. She held on to his good humor, even if he used it now as a mask.
"I'll compose it on the road, maybe, so I can send it the moment I pass the city gates," she said, smile turning to a grin for just a moment. "Though if I do that, my spelling's going to be disappointing."
He reached up to grab her hand, sliding his fingers between hers and squeezing tight. "I'm no stranger to disappointment," he said, and a laugh cracked from her throat at the thought of Bann Disappointment. He smiled. "But I have something for that, actually.” He nodded towards Calenhad and then exchanged a look with the stablehand. "Check your bag," he said, and stepped aside even as he kept their fingers entwined.
She looked between Teagan, the stablehand, and her horse, questioning and a little amused, and then she made her way over, not letting go for even a moment. She reached for the saddlebag and undid the catch.
Carefully, she pulled out a large book - heavy, leather-bound, and familiar.
The History of Rainesfere.
"Oh," she said, and then she looked to him with a lopsided smile. "Yes, I think this will help."
He stepped closer so he could tap a finger against the book’s cover. With a half-shrug and a grin, he said, "There’s a note inside too.”
She glanced up at him again, then opened the cover. She couldn't help her laugh, or her blush, and she traced his handwriting with her thumb.
So that you always remember our spelling lessons.
"I don't think I would have ever forgotten," she said when she looked back up to him. "But the reminder is..." When words didn't come, she shook her head and laughed again.
"You don’t have to forget, to need the reminder,” he said and laid his other hand over hers. She laughed and felt heat rest in her cheeks, bloom between his hands. He pressed on without hesitation, dropping his voice to murmur, "I wish I had something better to give.” He looked up at her, more solemn than before.
The bubbling, sharp and frightened laughter in her stilled at last. She shook her head. "No. This is perfect. This and- this whole month. You've given me more than enough."
She only wished she could give something in return.
With another fond glance at the note, she closed the book and packed it away again. The bag cinched, she stroked Calenhad's flank a moment, then turned to Teagan once more.
He was watching her. "I- You’ve given me... so much,” he whispered, and wrapped his free arm back around her, leaning in to kiss her.
She kissed him back with something like a sob, something broken and shuddering though it made no sound. Her shoulders didn't bow, her breath did not sigh out of her, but she felt the pain all the same, cutting through the last shreds of lightness.
To give this all up-
But finally she stepped back. He tried to keep her close, to pull her back to him, to draw out her kisses as long as he could, and it took all of her will not to go to him. She took a deep breath and pulled her hand from his.
"Until we meet again, then," she murmured.
His gaze dropped to the ground, and he drew in a long, unsteady breath to match hers.
"Maker-” he whispered and bit at his lip. "Maker watch over you, Cauthrien.”
"And may He keep you safe," she returned, before swinging herself up into her saddle.
She would ride hard; the further she was from Rainsfere by nightfall, and the more tired Calenhad was, the smaller the chance would be that she would simply turn around. From atop her mount, she gave him a last, small smile.
She thought for a moment to say, Catch me. Or Follow. Or any other words that would make him ride out after her, face down her duty, and bring her back. Her hand curled over her stomach and she thought, too, to maybe tell him about the passage of weeks- but no. There was nothing to tell. There was no truth to it, only fear. This wasn't the time for it - for words, or worries, or possibilities.
They had to part. There was simply nothing else to it.
So instead, all she said was, "Goodbye, Teagan."
And then she spurred Calenhad out of the stable and away from Rainesfere's keep and its Bann.
--
For two days, Teagan did little other than work and think about how easy it would be to take a horse from the stables when Raud wasn’t watching him and ride after her. He thought about it often enough that he could estimate where she was- what village she might have stopped near- how long it might take him to catch up.
But Raud kept a close eye on him, handing him more things that needed his attention than Teagan thought was strictly necessary. Some part of him recognized this as a kindness, even as the most recent batch of papers was set on his desk. It was a distraction, a needed one, and an anchor to keep him where he had to be. Raud hovered nearby, and Teagan nodded to him, murmured a thank you.
Raud didn't step away. Instead, he cleared his throat and extended his hand, a rolled parchment between his fingers.
"Message, my lord, from-” he turned the parchment to show a seal- "the Queen.”
Teagan was more alert in that moment than he had been in the two days since her departure. He reached for the letter, snatching it greedily from Raud’s fingers. He broke the seal with no hesitation and spread the letter out on his desk.
23 August, 9:31 Dragon
Bann Teagan Guerrin,
May the Maker allow this letter to find you well.
I have received a most interesting report from Ser Cauthrien. She claims that you and she have begun an intimate relationship. This was not my intent in sending her to you, although, if what she says is true, my estimation of your character suggests that you must not be in a relationship with the Warden-Commander Cousland.
You will of course understand that this dalliance with Ser Cauthrien does cast a poor light on her reports of your trustworthiness and loyalty. I am sure she has told you of her purpose in Rainesfere, and so I will be frank with you: you hold a position of great influence, and while I thank you for your support at the Landsmeet, I believe it is prudent to be wary of your continued association with the Warden-Commander and your actions outside of this country.
To that end, I have sent men to aid your own efforts. Their orders are to find and bring Alistair back to Ferelden, where I might keep an eye on him and where you may be assured as to his safety. While I must doubt Ser Cauthrien's accuracy and insight, I do not question her report that you are most focused on Alistair's well-being. I have other sources that confirm as much.
May the Maker watch over you,
Anora Mac Tir,
Queen and Teyrn of Ferelden
Postscript: Ser Cauthrien will not be returning to Rainesfere for the foreseeable future; I have much need of her here in Denerim.
He started to roll the parchment back up, but the sting of Anora’s last sentence had him tossing it across the desk before he finished. He watched as Raud stepped around the desk, reaching down after the letter.
"Don’t. Just- leave it there,” he said through clenched teeth as he reached for parchment of his own.
Teagan pushed aside the other pages and work on his desk, clearing space to write. He grabbed a quill, dipped it in ink, and wrote.
Dear Queen.
The End
(And that's the end - of this section of the story. But we're not quite done with them…)