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Tears Into Wine Ch. 5

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Brenna was steamed - enough that she had brushed past the young man standing in the middle of the road trying to get their attention.  She couldn’t help it.  After all this time traveling together, Alistair didn’t think of telling her who he really was until now?  Her fellow Grey Warden happened to be the bastard born son of Maric, therefore the half brother to their now dead king, and he didn’t think it was worth mentioning?  True, she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with her own identity, but then again, she wasn’t in line for the throne.  Her identity wouldn’t have any effect on their safety or security because, hell, Howe was already trying to kill them off. 

All right, maybe she wasn’t exactly being fair to her friend, her brother-in-arms, but it hurt that he didn’t think to trust her with this.  And it wasn’t like she didn’t trust him with who she really was - she just wasn’t ready to deal with the questions, the condolences, the reminders of what she’d lost a few months past.  The pain was still vivid - too sharp to be able to speak of without breaking down - and she needed to remain strong for him and the others they traveled with.

Letting the others go on ahead with Tomas, Brenna hung back a bit as she looked around the chantry, wishing she could find peace in the Maker’s house.  She wondered, briefly, if Mother Mallol had made it safely out of Highever. 

“Loghain would have us believe all the Wardens died at Ostagar, along with my nephew…”

No… that wasn’t… Teagan?  Bann Teagan was here?  Brenna felt her heart leap in response to his voice.  It felt as if years had passed since they shared that dance together at the ball Cailan and Anora had hosted in Denerim.  Oh how she had wished Teagan hadn’t been such a gentleman that night and had kissed her as she had wanted.  Not that she had been so forward as to ask for one, though. 

“No, not all of us died at Ostagar,” she replied, just as Alistair had opened his mouth to speak, stepping around the group until she was looking into the bann’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Lady C…” Teagan began, cutting off his words at the very slight shake of the head the woman in front of him gave him.  “Brenna?  Thank the Maker you’re alive!”

“I’m too slippery for death to get its claws into, it seems,” she replied.  Her fingers itched to reach out and wipe the worry from Teagan’s face, but now was, unfortunately, not the time for that.  “So what’s going on?  Everyone’s frightened from what I can see, and from the looks of it, you’ve got most of the village hiding here in the chantry with you as their last line of defense.  It can’t be darkspawn since I’m not sensing any nearby.”

“We don’t know…”

Brenna listened closely as Teagan went on to explain about the walking dead and the losses the village had already seen.  She wasn’t comfortable voicing her opinion, yet, but the timing of this, of Arl Eamon’s illness, couldn’t have been worse compared to the already fragile state of their nation from the impending civil war and blight.  She hated thinking ill of her best friend’s father, but he had already left Cailan and their armies to perish to the horde, so what was the poisoning of an arl in comparison?  Oh such things didn’t sit well with her.

Once tasks had been delegated to her traveling companions, Brenna collapsed onto one of the pews and lay her head in her hands.  She didn’t stir when Teagan sat beside her, and when his arm wrapped around her, all she could do was burrow her face into the warmth of his shoulder.  Maker, he smelled good, even with the overlying scent of the oil used to clean his armor.

“We’ve been so worried,” Teagan said, closing his eyes as the woman he’d longed for settled herself into his arms.  “Any word on Fergus?”

“Nay.  I fear he was lost at Ostagar,” Brenna’s voice came out a bit husky and hoarse as she swallowed back her grief.  “He’d been out scouting when I arrived.  At least… at least he didn’t know what happened to mother and father before… before…” she sighed, unable to finish.

“Your companions - they don’t know who you are, do they?”

Brenna lifted her gaze to look at Teagan, eyes swimming with unshed tears, and shook her head.  A single drop fell as his lips pressed gently against her forehead, eyes closing as she cherished the tenderness coming from the man beside her.

“Still too much to bear?”

All she could do was nod.

“Ahh, sweet Brenna,” Teagan whispered, catching her tear with the pad of his thumb.

“I need to go…” her voice sounded as raw as her throat felt.  “Your people need me more out there, setting up defenses and seeing what we have at our disposal, than in here feeling sorry for myself over what I’ve lost.”  Her smile wobbled a bit as she looked at the man she’d hoped she could have talked her father into allowing her to marry - back before everything had changed.

“Will you give me a moment of your time when this is all over?  There are things I need to discuss with you.”

“Of course, Bann Teagan.  We’ll speak later,” she answered, removing herself from his embrace as she stood.  He watched her as she left the chantry, her return the first spark of hope he’d felt since it all began.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.  First she’d had to keep Alistair behind after he’d suffered a nasty injury during the overnight hours.  The townsfolk hadn’t been kidding when describing the number of undead, and from what she gathered, this last wave had been the worst yet.  Then Teagan had been virtually browbeaten by that Orlesian to enter the keep alone to pacify some demon that had possibly been unleashed by the mage who’d been sent to poison the arl.  It didn’t help that she didn’t like the arlessa, finding the woman a bit too uppity for her tastes - hell at every function they’d crossed paths at, all the woman could do was complain about the state of the food, the music, the conversation - she honestly wondered what it was that the arl saw in her.

Now she had proof that Loghain had, indeed, hired the mage to poison the arl.  What would Anora think if she knew of the lows her father was hitting in his desire for power?  What other sins would he pile on top of this one?  What scared her most was the fear that he might have been behind Howe’s attack on her family.  The thought made her almost physically ill.

“Holy Maker…” Ser Perth’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts and brought her focus back into play.  Brenna stared aghast at the little boy clapping and enjoying the spectacle that the ensorcelled Teagan was putting on for the crowd.  Her anger bubbled to the surface and she strode closer toward Isolde and the others, though her gaze was sharp on Conner’s face.

“You stop that right now!  If your mother won’t take you in hand, I will!”

“Please don’t hurt Conner!  He’s just a little boy!” Isolde cried out as Brenna stormed toward them.

“Who is this, mother?  Who disturbs my playtime?”

“I’m Brenna and I’m here to stop you.  Your playtime has cost enough people their lives.  I won’t let this continue.”

The demon inside the boy laughed.  You think to stop me, mortal?  You’ll have to catch me first!”  The moment those words left Conner’s mouth, the child ran off, using the now advancing Teagan and the guards to block Brenna and the others from following.

Slipping into the shadows with such ease that it caught even Zevran off guard, Brenna blinked behind Teagan and brought the pommel of her dagger down on the back of his head, knocking him out, as the other two rogues flickered around the room doing the same to the guards.  Pinching the bridge of her nose, the young Cousland hoped that the men’s unconscious state would remove the demon’s influence over them.

At the first groan, signaling to the small group that the men were coming to, Brenna stiffened, watching them carefully.  When Teagan’s open eyes met hers, clear and lacking the strange inner glow they’d had when the demon had held him hostage, she breathed a sigh of relief and reached down to help him up.

“How are you feeling?”

“Outside of an aching head, I am myself again.”

Nodding, Brenna turned to look at Isolde, her stance becoming more aggressive even as she folded her arms over her chest.

“So let me get this straight.  You hired an apostate to teach Conner the basic skills he’d need as a mage, hoping he could learn to control his magic enough to hide it, not just from the townsfolk but from your husband as well.  Said apostate also happened to be an escaped blood mage whom Loghain had hired to poison Arl Eamon.  Due to lack of proper Circle instruction, after talking to Jowan down in the dungeon, I believe your son made a deal with a demon in the Fade to keep his father alive, not realizing the implications of his actions.  What do you think?”

“Wait, what?  Conner’s a mage?” Teagan turned to stare at his sister-in-law who had hung her head in shame while Brenna had been speaking.

“And an abomination,” the dark haired rogue sighed.

“Eamon would have sent him off to the Circle if he’d known Conner was a mage!  I couldn’t lose my son!”

“Better that than this!  Your actions, your need to hide my nephew’s magic, are what allowed all this to happen!” Teagan roared.

“There is a way to save him,” Jowan said, shuffling into the room, eyes wide with nerves.  “I could send a mage into the Fade to confront the demon and kill it which would then release Conner from its grasp.”

“How… how would we do this?” Isolde asked, any rage she felt at seeing him freed tempered by the need to save her son.

“I won’t lie - I would need to use blood magic.  For the amount of power this would require, it would mean someone has to sacrifice themselves to allow a mage entrance into the Fade.”

“No, not an option.  You may mean well and want to atone for your actions, but blood magic is not something I will ever condone,” Brenna stated.

“Other than that, your only other option would require a lot of lyrium, which I don’t have, and a few more mages,” Jowan added.

“The Circle isn’t too far from here,” Isolde looked at Brenna, her eyes pleading with the other woman.

“It would take at least a day to travel there, plus whatever time the mages needed to gather their supplies, and another day’s travel to return.  I’m sorry, but for Recliffe’s sake, I can’t take that chance,” she sighed, unable to look at either Isolde or Teagan as she turned toward the direction Conner had run off to.  “And I will not use blood magic.”

“No!” Isolde screamed, launching herself at the younger woman before finding herself held back by her brother-in-law.  “I won’t let you hurt my son!”

“We’d be doing him a… kindness… Isolde…” he murmured.  “If you’d just been honest… Maker…”

“You… after what you’ve been through you’d murder a little boy?” the arlessa tossed out to Brenna, causing the rogue to flinch before her back straightened and she strode back toward Isolde.  Teagan saw the anger, the anguish and despair that shimmered in those silver eyes as they stared down the struggling woman in his arms.

“Can you stand there and promise me that the demon will wait patiently for at least two days, maybe more, for me to return with enough lyrium and mages to allow someone into the Fade without the need to sacrifice someone’s life for a blood ritual?  You can’t!  How do I know that, while I’m gone, the demon doesn’t summon so many of those undead creatures that I return to find no one left alive?  I can’t take that chance, Isolde!  I have to weigh the value of one life over the lives of those you’ve sworn to protect as their arlessa!  ” Brenna yelled into Isolde’s face.

“You heartless bitch!  You murderer!  He’s only seven years old!”

“And Oren was five!  Maker, your son looks enough like my nephew that they could have been brothers!  If you think this is easy for me after seeing that sweet little boy’s lifeless body laying in a pool of blood…” Brenna’s chest heaved as she tried to hold back her tears.  “Oren was killed because of one man’s greed for power!  What I’m doing is to save your son from a life of possession and your people from fearing that every time the sun sets, they might not live to see another day!  Unlike what was done to my nephew, I’m going to try and be as kind as I possibly can to Conner!”

Before another word could be spoken, Brenna stormed out of the room toward the family wing of the keep, leaving Teagan with a now collapsed and weeping Isolde.  As Leliana and Zevran moved to follow Brenna, they were stopped by the soft baritone of the bann.

“Leave her be.  I don’t think this is something she wants witnessed by others.”

“We will wait for her at camp, then,” Leliana said, tugging the elf out of the room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The silence in the camp was almost deafening when she returned.  Even Oghren had sobered up some.  Brenna collapsed onto the stump of wood in front of her tent flap and pulled a dagger out of her boot, turning it around in her hands as she watched the way the firelight danced over the blade, highlighting a droplet of blood that still remained.

“I think we should talk about what happened up at the keep,” Alistair said as he approached.

“Not right now.”

“I think right now is the perfect time, don’t you?” his voice was harsh.

“I said, not right now!”

“You murdered a little boy!”

“Damnit, Alistair!” Brenna yelled, tossing the dagger she’d held, barely missing her fellow Warden as it sailed past him and embedded itself into the wooden pole holding up his tent.  Her movements stiff and jerky, she stood and disappeared into the nearby trees, letting the shadows enfold her into their cool embrace.

“Leave her be!” Teagan’s voice rang out as Alistair started after her.  “She did what was right but it wasn’t an easy decision for her to make,” he continued, making his way further into the camp.  “She’s hurting right now.”

“How can you say that?!  She killed your nephew instead of trying to find a way to save him!  Kinloch Hold isn’t that far away!  And you say she’s hurting?  Didn’t she take into consideration how you’d feel?  How Arl Eamon would feel?  How Arlessa Isolde feels?”

“Teagan is right,” the arlessa’s voice choked over the words as she entered the camp.  “I…”

Any conversation stopped as an eerie cry filled the camp from the direction Brenna had ran off to.  All heads turned toward the sound, and it was soon followed by others, the pain within echoing around them.  Even Morrigan was chilled by the haunting noise, her hands rubbing up and down over the goosebumps that had cropped up over her arms.

“Holy Maker, is that Brenna?” Alistair whispered. 

“I’m going to check on her,” Teagan murmured, following the path of the cries.

Brenna screamed, pummeling her hands against one of the many rough stone boulders that dotted the landscape high above the gentle blue waters of Lake Calenhad.  She had taken advantage of the nap the young boy’s body had slipped into, the energy the demon needed whenever it possessed him having tired him out.  While she made sure he never felt a thing, she couldn’t help but superimpose Oren’s face over his.  What kind of a monster would kill a little boy, even though his death saved himself and others?  She screamed again which tapered down into a whimpered moan when she felt something in her hand snap.

“Shhhh, Brenna,” Teagan sat down next to her and pulled her into his lap, careful of the hand she was cradling, though both were torn and bloody from the abuse she’d levied on them against the rock.

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  Oh, Maker, I’m so sorry,” her breath hitched as she sobbed against his shoulder.  Teagan ran his fingers through her hair and rested his cheek against the crown of her head, rocking her back and forth while she cried.

“You did what needed to be done, love,” he voiced once she had calmed down.  “We’ll miss him, we’ll grieve, but he’s at peace now.  Conner is no longer hostage to a demon.  You were kind to him and made sure his last moments were peaceful.”

“I killed a little boy, your nephew.  Oh Andraste, forgive me…”

“You’re forgiven, my sweet.  Come, let’s get you back to camp so your hands can be tended to,” Teagan kissed her brow, his movements slow and careful as he stood with her in his arms and walked back to camp.  As they entered, Brenna’s gaze found and held Isolde’s.

“Forgive me.  We’ll set out for Denerim at daybreak to speak with Brother Genitivi.  The least I can do is find Andraste’s ashes for you.  I owe you that much, at least.”

 

This has actually been sitting on my hard drive since October - it and Ch. 6 which I will post soon. I apologize for the excessively long wait that many of you have had in seeing the next chapter come out.

I truly hope you enjoy this and the next chapter. Keep an eye out for an interesting plot twist in 6!

Brenna Cousland is mine, Teagan and everyone else belongs to BioWare.
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wikinuska's avatar
Will you continue this story ever again? Oh