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There weren’t many things that could draw Howe away from his duties as Arl. Almost nothing short of a royal summons or an attack on the Vigil itself could draw him away. It had to be something he couldn’t ignore or delegate to someone else.
A visit from Bryce Cousland was one such thing.
His old friend had decided to pay him a surprise visit. He’d had only mere minutes to prepare the Vigil for his arrival, nowhere near enough time to make his family presentable for his guests. Not enough time to prepare anything.
“Rendon! It’s good to see you! You’re looking well.”
Did he? He was certain that the years were starting to show. But at least he hadn’t commented on the disarray of his home. Whether that was because he either didn’t notice or simply didn’t want to say anything, he couldn’t say. Bryce never had been the sharpest sword in the bunch.
A smile wormed its way across his face. “As do you. Though… is that grey I see?”
Bryce let out a bark of laughter. “Well we can’t all be blessed with such youthful features as you, Rendon.”
He chuckled. “So, what do I owe to the pleasure of your visit? Had I known you were coming, I’d have had the cooks hard at work for a welcome feast.”
“And I’m sure it would have been wonderful. But no. I’m afraid that this visit was on short notice for me as well. Eleanor and I will be taking Fergus with us to Antiva.” He explained. “But our youngest is too young to travel with us such distances. Then I remembered he’s never met his uncle Howe and figured now would be as good a time as any for you to meet.”
Howe blinked. “What?”
“In simple terms? We’re going on a trip, and I need you to take care of Sevrin for us while we’re gone.” Bryce looked down at the tiny form hiding behind his legs. Howe hadn’t noticed it until now. “Sevrin, say hi to your uncle Howe.”
The child - no older than 6 or 7 at the most - looked up at him with clear nervousness in his eyes. He had a mop of dark hair and the most youthful eyes he’d seen in years. Even so young, he resembled his father almost to a T.
“H-hi.”
Bryce chuckled and ruffled his boys hair. Sevrin didn’t seem to take kindly to that and shook his head. That just seemed to make it even messier, but the boy didn’t seem to mind. He just puffed out his cheeks at his father in child-like annoyance.
“Don’t mind him, Howe. He’s just a little shy. He’ll warm up to you quickly once he gets to know you.”
Howe grinned. “I’m sure he will.” His eyes flickered down to Sevrin. “I’m sure he’ll have a wonderful time here with my family. I’ll make sure of it.”
Bryce smiled and patted him in the shoulder. “Thank you, Howe. I appreciate you doing this.”
“Think nothing of it. I still owe you a favor for saving my hide during the rebellion.” He smirked. “Taking care of your son while you and Eleanor go off to rekindle your passion is the least I can do.”
“It’s not like that!”
“Whatever you say, Bryce. I’m sure Fergus will find someone to entertain himself with while you and Eleanor are having fun. It is Antiva, after all.”
Bryce groaned. “Sometimes I hate you, Rendon.”
He grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “I felt the same many times while you were courting Eleanor. This is my revenge for having to listen to your horrendous courtship ideas.”
Bryce rolled his eyes. “Well, I should go before I suffer any more of your terrible revenge.” He patted Sevrin’s head. “Remember, Pup, be good for your uncle Howe.”
“I will, father.”
The two of them watched Bryce leave the Keep. There was something to be said about how fast Bryce was to come to him when he needed a favor, but never when Howe himself needed help.
Those were thoughts for later, though.
Once the two were alone, Howe turned his attention to Sevrin and eyed him with curiosity. What to do… he didn’t have the time to waste on Bryce’s child nor did he have anyone he trusted enough to watch him.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He sighed when he saw who it was,
“Nathaniel! Stop hiding and get out here!”
Nathaniel - his own child - scrambled out from behind the pillar he was hiding behind and towards the two of them. He looked guilty, as he should. He thought he’d taught the boy better than to eavesdrop.
But… perhaps he could be useful.
“What have I told you about eavesdropping on others, Nathaniel?”
He twiddled his fingers in front of him and stared down at the ground in shame. “Not to do it.”
“And what were you doing?”
His head dropped further down. “Eavesdropping….”
“We’ll talk about this later.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “For now, I have someone to introduce you to. This is Sevrin Cousland.”
“H-hello…” Sevrin mumbled.
“Hi.”
“Nathaniel, I need you to show Sevrin around the Vigil. He’ll be here a while and he should know the lay of the land. He’ll be staying with you as well, so make space in your room.”
“Yes, father.” Nathaniel’s eyes flickered to Sevrin. He smiled. “My name’s Nathaniel. Do you like Dragons?”
Sevrin hesitantly smiled. “Yeah…”
Nathaniel grabbed his hand. “Come on then! I’ll show you some of the toys I have!”
Howe watched the two of them go and had to suppress a laugh. He had a feeling the two of them were going to get on swimmingly. Assuming the Cousland boy managed to say more than two words to Nathaniel.
***
It was days before Howe saw Sevrin again. While the two sat at the same table for dinner, they never spoke. The boy had taken a liking to Nathaniel and to his surprise Delilah. The three were around each other every second of the day from what he’d heard.
So it came as no surprise to find the three of them together in the courtyard. What did come as a surprise was finding them all dressed in armor that was comically large on the all, using wooden training swords like they were the real thing. They’d even recruited some of his guards - who were supposed to be patrolling to protect against infiltrators - into their game.
His first instinct was to stop whatever they were doing. They couldn’t be distracting his guards, or using what could be vital armor if they were attacked. But… curiosity won out. He was curious what it was they’d do.
“Back, evildoers! You will not harm the innocent villagers!”
Said villagers were far from innocent. They were the largest, burliest men he had from the looks of it, all of whom had probably killed many a man in cold blood. Meanwhile the ‘evildoers’ were all servants - some barely teenagers at this point - clumsily fumbling around.
And somehow Sevrin, Nathaniel, and Delilah had pinned the ‘evildoers’ to the ground and pressed their attack. Despite being absolutely tiny and having no clue how to swing a sword, they were winning.
It was simultaneously the stupidest and most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
He stayed on the sidelines and watched their battle for a short while longer before he decided to move on. The kids could have some fun for the day. The guard… well they’d get off with a strike against them, but not much worse. So long as they never did it again.
Now… to go deal with Esmerelle and her foolish attempts to seduce him. Moronic woman. She had no idea how easy to read and manipulate she was.
///
He didn’t now what he was supposed to do.
“How… did this happen?”
Sevrin and Nathaniel looked away. At least they had the good sense to look ashamed.
“We were bored….”
Howe narrowed his eyes. “You were bored… and that somehow led to you covered in flour and honey?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Explain. Now.”
“Sevrin and I wanted to make a cake.” Nathaniel began. “But the cooks wouldn’t let us.”
“So we had to make them leave.”
“So we took some Elfroot from the pantry and hid it in their food since we heard that it makes people agree with you more!”
Howe’s eyes drifted to his unconscious cooking staff. “Among other things, yes.”
“So then we started to bake!” Sevrin added. “But we didn’t know how to… so we threw everything we thought went into cake into a bowl. Like eggs, flour, honey…”
So far so good.
“Pepper, corn, milk, chicken, deathroot,” He grew more and more disgusted with each word, “tomatoes, and strawberries!”
“Then we stirred it and put it in the oven.”
“Which is why we’re covered in all of this stuff.”
“And where is this… thing you made?” He refused to call such a monstrosity a cake. He would sooner declare his love for Orlais than commit that crime against baking.
The two boys pointed to the oven. To his complete horror, he oven was smoking and crackling with fire. He could only imagine what kind of nightmare the two of them had created in their childish foolishness.
He didn’t want to see it.
He cleared his throat. “Well I hope the two of you had fun with this, because you’re grounded.” He held up a hand to silence their protests. “You wasted valuable ingredients on a cake no one is going to eat and made the kitchen staff worthless for the rest of the day. A few days grounded is the least you deserve.”
“Awwww…”
“Can’t we at least try the cake? We worked really hard on it….”
The smell of uttter death emanating from the oven told him his answer. “Perhaps later if the two of you behave yourselves.”
And he’d had time to find someone to make a cake that wouldn’t kill them.
////
“What are you doing, Uncle Howie?”
His eye twitched. His name was Howe, not Howie!
“Howe.” He corrected. He couldn’t stress that enough. “I’m writing letters to the Bann’s to placate them. They all need attention and never bother to handle things on their own.” They were like children in a way.
Stupid, incompetent children that needed constant approval, lest they throw a temper tantrum.
Sevrin tilted his head. His eyes were filled with childlike curiosity. “Why do you need to help them?”
“Those are the duties of an Arl. Your father likely has to handle even more unruly nobles than I do.” Howe laughed. “If we didn’t, Fereldan would likely burn as the nobles all bickered among one another. It’s stressful, but that’s to be expected in exchange for the power we wield.”
“Father says that you should de… de… delagato?”
“Delegate.” He corrected.
“Delegate.” The boy repeated it a few more times just to memorize it, scrunching up his face with every syllable he pronounced. “Father delegates things to the other nobles sometimes. That way he’s not so stressed and he has time for us.”
That sounded like Bryce alright. Old bastard was sentimental. Put family above his own power. He was loved for that. But he was lucky. Unlike Howe, Bryce had nobles who could actually think for themselves and function without needing constant hand holding.
“Your father believes in family. He prioritizes you all because you’re the most important thing to him. He wants you all to be happy and makes time for you all. It’s admirable.” He absentmindedly patted the boys head. “But I’m different.”
Sevrin tilted his head and gazed up at him with big, curious eyes. “You don’t prioritize family, uncle Howie?”
A twitch. “ Howe.” He groaned. “And it’s not that. I love my family.” Or at least his children. He just couldn’t show it like others could. There was always more important things to do than spend time with them. Pressing matters that demanded his attention. “What I prioritize is power.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He laughed. “Sevrin, power is what drives the world. The more power you have, the better your life can be. The better a life the people you care about can have.”
“Isn’t it wrong to want power, though?”
He blinked. “And what’s wrong with wanting power?”
“Father says that people who want power are bad men who hurt everyone they know. He also says that we should be happy with what we have.”
He sighed. Oh Bryce… “I’ll let you in on a little secret. There’s nothing wrong with power. Power is good. What matters is how people use their power.”
Sevrin frowned. “Father says that a lot of people abuse their power.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And what is an abuse? Power is power. When you wield the power, you can do anything. It’s those who don’t have any power - those who live meaningless lives - that complain about how people use it. They’re the ones who put so much stigma on using the power you have how you want.”
“So… the more power you have, the more you can do what you want?”
He chuckled. “In essence, Sevrin.”
It had been one of the few lessons of his father’s that he valued. His father had been a weak fool, but he’d made sure he understood what the most important things in life were. What he needed to prioritize and what he could ignore. Hopefully he could teach his own children the same lessons. They all had so much potential. If only their mother would stop squandering it…
So many thought power had to be wielded with responsibility. That those who wielded it needed to use it to help others. Those people didn’t understand what having power meant. He would use his power as he pleased. To protect his own and himself and let them live comfortable lives.
“How do you get power?”
Howe grinned at the excited, curious tone in Sevrin’s voice. The boy was willing to learn. “There are many ways. Some use money, others connections. Some even use things like magic or their skills to gain power. I prefer to use them all when I can.”
The boy hummed to himself quietly for a moment before looking up towards him. “Can you teach me?”
He blinked. “You want me to teach you how to be powerful?”
He got a nod in return.
All he could do was sigh. You couldn’t teach someone to be powerful. Not really. That was a skill you had to acquire on your own. But Bryce had entrusted the boy to him for a reason…
“Fine. I guess I can help start you on the path to being strong. Tomorrow.” He added at the end. “I still have work to do. The powerful never rest, after all.”
//
Two weeks since he’d accepted the brats request to teach him how to be powerful and Howe felt he could safely say that it was a waste of time. The boy was barely old enough to know how to read the most basic of words! Teaching him the complexities of politics, economics, and combat was impossible. To make matters worse, the brat seemed to have an even thicker head than his father.
Every time he pushed him to the ground, the boy just seemed to get even more determined. Every time he scolded the boy for not understanding key concepts, the boy made it his mission to remember it. He didn’t complain much, whether about the pain or his harsh method of teaching.
The boy either had the stubbornness of ten Mabari to see this through, or the brat was too innocent to think of complaining. Either way, he supposed he should be thankful. The brat would just pick himself up, dust himself off, and continue on without stopping.
“Again.”
Of course, all the determination and stubbornness in the world didn’t help the fact Sevrin was still a child. One who hadn’t been taught anything about battle or how to properly use a sword. They’d only just barely gotten past the point of teaching him how to actually hold a sword and shield.
Mercifully, these lessons only ever lasted an hour or two at most before he went back to work and Sevrin was sent off with Nathaniel or Delilah for more of their insane schemes.
Another failed attack, another collision with the ground. This was getting nowhere. Perhaps a different approach would work best.
“That’s enough for now, Sevrin.” He frowned. “Rest for a moment.”
Predictably, the boy collapsed on the ground panting from exhaustion and groaning from his bruises. All the determination in the world may have helped him push on, but it wasn’t nearly so useful in blocking out pain or exhaustion.
He took pity on the boy and handed him a canteen of water. He had worked hard, even if it had amounted to nothing in the end. As he’d expected from a child so young.
He watched as Sevrin gulped the water down like it was liquid gold. He was at an impasse. As… entertaining as teaching this boy in his spare time was, it was going nowhere. He had to decide what he was supposed to do with him.
“Sevrin, a word?” He eventually asked. “How dedicated are you to learning?” He let out a sigh when the boy tilted his head. Clearly he didn’t understand the question at all. “After you leave, will you continue to learn? Or has this all been a passing interest to you?”
Sevrin beamed up at him, despite his clear exhaustion. “I want to keep learning until I’m the greatest warrior in the world!”
That got a laugh. “Well you have a long way to go before you can hold that title!” A very long way. Many strived to attain that title, all more dedicated and skilled than the boy before him. But this one had fire, if small at the moment. He could become a great warrior one day if he worked at it.
Perhaps even good enough to show Orlais their fancy Chevalier’s were nothing compared to true Fereldan warriors. Now that would be a sight to see.
“Whenever you’re ready, we can continue. I should still have a little time left before I have to get back to work.”
//
“Tell us a bedtime story!”
If there was one thing in the world Howe was not equipped to handle, it was this. “Why do you two even need a bedtime story? Sleep! You’ve been up all day long. You should be tired!”
Nathaniel giggled. “But we want a story! Please, father?”
He sighed. These two were liable to cry and pout if he didn’t. Worse, Nathaniel’s mother wouldn’t ever let him hear the end of it either. “Fine. I’ll fetch your nanny and have her-“
“No!” Sevrin interrupted. “You tell us one!”
Son of an Orlesian whore…. “I have work to do. I can’t just-“ He sighed when he saw the disappointed looks cross their faces and their eyes begin to water. Maker, damn it. He was a weak man. “Fine… just don’t tell your mother or Delilah that I did. Promise?”
“Promise!”
“Yes, father!”
Now what to tell these two… ah. He had just the story. “Once, there was a child. A bright-eyed child, just like you two. The child had a task, a chore: ‘Bring back firewood so your family stays warm.’”
The two were perplexed from the looks on their faces, but still curious about where it was going.
“But the child, a boy, was also given a warning - the warning all children should be given: ‘Do not go past the edge of the woods. You are too young and too foolish to face the dangers within.’
What do you suppose the child did then?
Well, he went to the edge of the wood and gathered some firewood. Soon he had enough to keep his family warm. Let us say that the story ends here. The child returns home. His family greets him, and they have cake with apples. At night the wind howls, but the house is warm. The child’s mother tells stories, the father sings songs, and all is well.”
The boys were smiling as they heard what they thought was the end of the tale. Unfortunately for then, it wasn’t. It was such a shame to wipe the smiles from their faces.
“Do you think that’s where the story ends? Is that what you would do?
Though the child had enough firewood to keep his family warm, he did not leave for home. Instead, he put one toe over the edge and said: ‘I am not young.’
‘Of course not,’ said a voice in the dark, and made the child smile, for he was vain and cared more for flattery than duty.
The child put both feet past the edge and said: ‘I am not foolish.’
‘Of course not,’ said the voice in the dark. “You are a very special child. The best of all.’
So the child walked deeper into the forest, leaving the fire wood behind, deeper into the dark.
And so I say to you now: Do not go past the edge of the wood. You are too young and too foolish to face the dangers within. You once had an older brother who would have agreed.”
The boys faces had morphed into ones of horror and terror. What he’d expected, all things considered. The only fairy tales he knew of were the horrific ones his father told him as a child. They should have let him get the nanny.
“I hope you both enjoyed the story. Good night. Sweet dreams.”
//
“Uncle Howie!” Light, rapid pounding came from his door. Howe swore under his breath and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. What did the little bastard want from him now? Didn’t he know he was trying to sleep?
Wasn’t he supposed to be asleep? That was the entire point of the story they’d forced out of him!
“What do you want, Sevrin? You should be in bed.” He groaned out and swung open his door. He was greeted by the sight of little Sevrin, eyes wide and teary from fear, his cheeks puffy and pink.
What had caused this?
“I-I had a nightmare.” Sevrin sobbed out between hiccups. “I was sc-scared and came here-“
“You woke me up this late for a bad dream?” Of all the foolish things he’d heard… “Go back to bed, Sevrin. The dream wasn’t real.”
“But-“
He didn’t bother to hear what Sevrin had to say. It didn’t matter. It was just a dream. The boy would come out the other side stronger if he learned to deal with his problems by himself. Like he had when his father had told him the same story.
Like when he’d had to deal with endless nights of terror and fear of the woods because of that very same story…
…
Maker damn it all.
He flung the door open. “Hold a moment, Sevrin.”
The boy had only made it halfway down the hall before he turned around, eyes still running. “Y-Yes?”
“If,” He sighed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “If you want, you can stay in my room for the night.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than Sevrin’s tiny body collided with his leg. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t make a sound!”
He was already regretting this. “I doubt that.”
No backing out now though. He shut the door behind himself and trudged over to his bed. It was as large and spacious as ever, though much less lonely now that he had a tiny, ecstatic young child claiming the covers as his own.
“Don’t get too comfortable. This is only for tonight.” He warned. Despite the harshness of his words, his face softened. Truth be told, if the boy needed to spend more nights here, he might allow it.
“Don’t worry! You won’t even know I’m here!”
He sighed. Somehow he doubted that. He slid into bed and yawned. No use staying awake any longer. The boy was comforted and taking up most of the bed. Now he could sleep. He had another busy day ahead of him tomorrow.
“Uncle Howe?”
“Yes?” He yawned.
“Thank you for letting me stay here….”
“It’s no trouble, Sevrin. Come to me whenever you have a problem. It’s my pleasure to help.” His eyes fluttered shut.
“Ok.” He heard Sevrin let out a tiny yawn of his own. “Good night, Uncle Howe.”
“Sweet dreams, Sevrin.” He mumbled. He drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep with Sevrin curled up into a cocoon beside him.