Chapter Text

9:20 Dragon

It was a grand day in Starkhaven. One that rained glitter through your hair and smelt like a wide-open world of fantasy. Burning red heraldry hung from the lamp posts while pinwheels flitted through the air in the hands of the people. Vendors tossed out red peonies, parents weaving them through the hair of young children whose feet pounded through the granite-lined streets. According to the staff at the inn, it was “Freedom’s Day”; a holiday dedicated to celebrating the royal patronage that ruled their city. To Helena Hawke, it was a nuisance.

People had filled the roadways, obscuring her vision as she shouldered through the crowds. By her order, the twins stayed close to her side, though it was obvious by their jumps and whines that they were growing restless. When a group of older kids shoved past her, she snapped.

“Hey, watch it!”

Her words were pointless, though, hitting the backs of the retreating teens. As she reoriented herself, a groan piqued her ears, brown eyes catching the roll of her younger sister’s.

“Seriously, sis? You’re so embarrassing!”

The eldest Hawke sniffed, chin high as she rubbed her impacted shoulder.

“Me? They’re the ones running around like, like…” she waved her hand. “Unruly children.”

“Uh, we are unruly children.” Their brother spoke low, glancing away when those dark browns swung towards him.

“No,” Helena clipped. “You two are children, and I’m the adult here.” She straightened her shoulders. “That means what I say goes.”

Carver and Bethany seemed to exchange exasperated looks, causing Helena to narrow her eyes in her bid for dominance. 

It wasn’t easy being in charge but Helena always took the role seriously. Being a part of a family of apostates required vigilance from whoever was entrusted with the responsibility of the head of their household. When Pa and Ma were indisposed, that duty rested on her.

But watching her charges in this foreign city’s chaos of a holiday was proving challenging. She once again berated herself for giving in to the twin’s desire to explore the streets. She shouldn’t have underestimated that Innkeeper’s ability to make a 'city of gold’ seem interesting to two nine year olds who knew little more than the countryside.

“You’re not an adult, you’re 13,” Bethany rebutted, to which Helena sighed.

“Right, I’m a teenager and you’re still asking me how to double knot your ties.”

Before she could protest, Carver groaned, threading his hands through his dark hair.

“Can you guys please stop!” He huffed, craning his neck in the direction where the teens had headed. “We should just enjoy ourselves. Starkhaven wasn’t even a planned stop, so why waste it away arguing?”

At that Helena followed his line of sight, watching people crowd along the main road. Their shiny tin necklaces created a sparkling river of life. Larger, silver glints shone above them, as soldiers donning serpent helmets directed the crowd with easy gestures.

A grin dotted Carver’s face.

“See? Those soldiers look pretty cool.”

Even Bethany looked, the spark of indignance stamped out to make room for a flicker of curiosity.

“Yeah,” she grinned. “I bet the royal family’s going to make an appearance…” her lashes fluttered in a dreamy sigh. “I wonder what the princes look like.”

A tiny snort left Helena, the corners of her lips turning up.

“Why, thinking of marrying rich and leaving us in the dust?”

The nine year old raised her nose high in the air, her loose buns curling gracefully in the movement.

“Nonsense, there’s three of them. One for me, one for you, and one for Carver.”

A blush covered their little brother’s face as he exclaimed. Helena couldn’t help the grin.

“Oh, don’t fret so much. You have a natural awkward charm.” Bethany folded her arms, pink lips pursed before turning to Helena. “It’s Helly we have to worry about.”

Without missing a beat, Helena flicked her sister’s forehead, laughter bubbling out between the three of them in exclamations and pitched yells. 

“Well, I’m sorry to put a damper on your dreams Bethy , but Ma and Pa want us back at the inn in twenty minutes.”

And just like that, the joy was gone. A pout drew Bethany’s lips, her whine sailing out.

“But that’s when the parade starts!”

Helena, decisive as ever, shook her head, black braids stiff over her shoulders. “No. By the time we even get there, the doctor will have already given Ma what she needs and they’ll be expecting us to be ready for travel.”

“But sister…”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at the twins.

Frowns tugged both of their young faces, those Hawke brown eyes molten in the orange sky. Carver even toed the ground with his boot, Bethany resigned to staring away with puffed cheeks. 

Crossing her arms, Helena sucked in a breath, feeling the beginnings of guilt pile onto her chest. 

Her brows pinched as she looked to the street for a distraction, finding it on a corner building that jutted into the evening sun. Like many of the buildings in the city, its marble surface shone brilliantly, making it clear why Starkhaven was compared to a glittering jewel. Upon closer examination, Helena spotted a hanging sign proclaiming it to be a bakery. Under the words was a small etching of pie with fish heads poking through the crust.

She tilted her head towards her siblings with a glimmer in her eyes.

“We may not get to see the parade but we can at least get something from this place.” The corners of her lips pulled, her gaze falling to meet theirs. “How about fish egg pie?”

Bethany seemed to pale beneath her bright red scarf, while Carver was content to grimace. “Or we can just go back.”

Helena waved her hand, wrapping an arm around their shoulders with renewed purpose. “Oh, no! Come on, I’ll buy you whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be fish-egg pie.”

A shudder ran through her brother. 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be.”

Crossing the street in a small jog, Helena led the charge to the bakery. She peeked through the door’s tall window first, and upon finding the store to be comfortably empty, pushed in. The twins trailed after her, passing whispers amongst themselves.

Honey glazed bread filled her lungs when she breathed, eyes wide over the marvelous arrangement of food on the shelves. They seemed to cover two of the four walls of the store, with wooden cases on the tiled floor boasting their spread. Where Lothering had a local bread man who wandered through selling the most basic of loaves, Starkhaven had this and tens more like it. From sourdough to raisin bread, to creamy cheese and sweet butter, Helena could have spent all day sampling the different flavors of pastry lining the pale walls.

But as the twins brushed up against her pockets, she was reminded that a few weeks allowance would only be enough for one of these tasty treats.

She looked down at them, “Well, pick something.”

Those mischievous browns connected before they shrugged. With hands behind her back, Bethany eyed the front counter’s display case, scanning the array of treats while Carver took interest in the menu.

“You kids traveling?”

An unknown voice called out to them, Helena stepping closer to her siblings and peering around for the source.

“Maybe,” she answered.

A mustachioed clerk leaned out from behind the counter, waving his hand to grab her attention. His brows were heavier than she’d ever seen, giving him more the appearance of a frowning bear than a man. He seemed to grumble like one too.

“No need to bring out the big sister posture,” he wiped his hands on his shirt. “Just making friendly conversation with the oddly dressed Fereldens.”

Bethany, who had caught wind of the conversation, appeared behind Helena. “You don’t sound very friendly.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all tell me.”

“For good reason, I bet,” Carver murmured.

The clerk groaned, a dramatic expression pulling his wiry beard further down his face.

“Well, now I’m certain you three aren’t from Starkhaven. No child of ours would let their tongues run for the fear of being eaten.”

The door jingled behind them, drawing his eyes. “‘Cept that one of course. But he’s the city’s problem.”

Helena looked over her shoulder but saw nothing more than some patrons engrossed in their meals. With a frown, she turned back.

“Well… you’re right. We aren’t from around here,” she rubbed her fingers together. “I have some allowance left and I wanted to get something Starkhavish before we leave.”

“Everything’s Starkhavish lass. You’re in Starkhaven.”

Helena’s cheeks reddened, heat rushing through her body as her nostrils flared. She wasn’t having this man’s attitude, her veins prickling with the growth of fractiles. Just as she was about to set her jaw and say something unworthy, a smooth, boyish voice came into her ears.

“Hey, don’t mind him. Dolun gets cranky around the holidays,” the voice whispered. Crystal blue eyes met hers, alongside a glistening smile. “You should order his fish-egg pie, though. He doesn’t use Starkhavish children as filling, promise”

The clerk rolled his eyes but kept his grumbling minimal. “10 minutes wait if you want it.”

Helena quickly rubbed her eyes of any embarrassment. “But 10 minutes… I don’t know if we have that long.” 

There was a lean against her back.

“Ohh but fish-egg pie sounds so good suddenly!” Bethany exclaimed before looking at their brother. “Right Carver?”

Brows raised, mouth a small ‘o’ before slacking into a “Riiiiiight.”

A frown tickled Helena’s face, “I thought you two didn’t want it. What happened?”

“Well, it’s like you said,” Carver shrugged. “Better to leave with a taste of Starkhaven than know we didn’t get a single thing!”

“And just imagine, the royal family must eat delicacies like this every day!”

“Oh, they do,” their mysterious friend interjected, a grin on his face. 

Bethany’s bright-eyed ‘really?’ was lost to Helena as she felt a warm tickle in her chest. It was nice to see her siblings take interest in the food. Meals had always been an important custom for them, the offering of food its own language of apologies and sentiments. The fact that they were accepting meant that they hadn’t found her transgression to be unforgiving.

Light fingers grabbed the embroidered coin purse in her pocket as she nodded surely to the store clerk.

“We’ll take one then.”

“One silver.”

Thankfully, she had that and a few coppers. Slipping it over the counter, Helena watched Dolun count the change. 

“Right,” he sniffed, turning to grab an apron. “Wait here. Ten minutes and it’ll be ready, but if you leave I’m not holding it for you.”

Helena nodded dutifully, turning with a smile to her siblings.

Who were nowhere to be found.

“Beth? Carver?”

Eyes widened, heart plummeting into her stomach. 

There was no answer of course because the store was devoid of their presence. There was only one person standing where they had been. Helena squinted.

The boy had blue eyes. That was the first thing she noticed, its boldness bright against his sepia skin. The second thing she noticed was the dark swaths of plaid that wrapped around his torso, tucked neatly into a kilt. He had an emerald brooch that appeared far too shiny for the average citizen, keeping it pinned to his high collared dress shirt. All of this fell in line with the perfectly slicked back dark red hair.

Helena was sure that if she pondered his appearance, she would have a multitude of questions concerning the boy and what kind of money he had to be walking around in such expensive clothing, but she just wasn’t interested.

Not with the disappearance of Bethany and Carver.

“Hey, uh,” she halted, shaking her head. “You. Where are my siblings?”

The well dressed boy tilted his head. “‘You?’” He raised his brows. “I have a name you know.”

Helena’s lips pinched as she waved him away. “Forgive me for not finding that the most pressing issue right now. Where are they?”

A half-smile spread on warm skin, taking in her attitude. Her ears burned at the sight.

“Your sister, Bethany? She told me to tell you that they were going to watch the parade.”

“What!” She exploded.

“Oh, she said you might be upset too.”

Helena was nearly fuming now, panic swirling in her gut.

“Of course I’m upset—! She! Ughhh—“

A soft, ‘wow’ came out under the breath of the redheaded boy, brows knitting in confusion. “You’re actually...?” He held his tongue. “They do this a lot then?”

Crossing her arms tight, Helena huffed. Her stride over the tile was guided by her intense glare, a stampede of thoughts battering her mind. “No,” she said. “I mean…” a swallow bobbed her throat. “They just usually understand that we have to help each other.”

“What do you mean?”

Her face was pink with frustration as she twisted the answer in her mouth. In a quiet voice, she muttered, “Because I’m the one who gets in trouble after this.”

In her peripheral she saw the boy flinch, his hand coming up to rub the other. 

“I know what you mean.”

She decided to look at him again. Really look. Despite his height, he stood as though he were the tallest person in the room. A matter of amusement to Helena who towered a head above him. His lashes were long, giving her the impression that he was probably as good as fluttering them to get out of trouble as Bethany was. She sighed.

He caught her stare with ocean blue eyes, cheeks darkening as he blinked. It seemed she had knocked him off his balance, an awkward chuckle coming to fruit.

“Ohh… ah. If you want, I know where they went.”

Brows rose, crossed arms loosening. “Really?”

He straightened at this, confidence regained. “Really! I could help you.”

“Well let’s go then!” Helena started, already making strides towards the door when a series of ‘wait wait waits’ barraged her ears. She had planned on ignoring them but failed due to the close of a hand around her wrist. The force yanked her back, sending her colliding into the young boy who let out an ‘ough’ against her pitched yelp.

“You can’t leave yet, you still have the pie!” He exclaimed, cheeks red. His hand was still closed around her, something that made her heartbeat drum a lot louder than she had been used to.

She gave his joined hand a raised brow, causing him to look down as well. 

A sheepish smile came as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry.”

But Helena’s focus was no longer on him. Instead, she was watching the counter for any signs of Dolun and her fish-egg pie. It was a waste to leave without it, weeks' worth of allowance thrown for nothing. Rubbing the back of her neck, Helena cringed. 

“Every minute they get further away,” she mumbled, “yet I’m trapped here, waiting for their fool pie.”

The boy’s brows had furrowed too, hand up to his chin. She paced in front of him, the world around her dark as panic ate at her mind. She was low on options. If she waited the full time for the pie the chances of losing Bethany and Carver only went up. She could take the directions from the boy and ask him to wait for her pie, but it was more likely that she would wind up lost in the masses. Doubts continued to build inside her, pace increasing until his voice broke through.

“I’ll find them for you.”

Helena spun towards him, an incredulous look on her face. Without missing a beat, she asked,

“Why?”

He seemed to be taken aback, eyes wide as his hand lowered. “Why?”

The arch of Helena’s brow only increased, pressure visible on the boy’s face.

“It’s a simple question.”

“I… have to be honest. No one’s ever asked me why I do things before.”

Her eyelids began to drop flat with disinterest until he waved his hands in a blur.

“No, no, wait.” his hand dropped to his neck. “I suppose I just feel guilty. You wouldn’t be stuck here if I hadn’t suggested the pie,” he bit his lip, eyes skirting the ground. “And… I may have given them directions? To the Palace Road?”

Helena was scowling now, an effect that made the boy take a step back.

“I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t know it would cause so much trouble for you, honest,” he explained. “I kind of…” eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “Well, never mind. My reasons don’t matter anymore. At least let me make this right.”

Helena stared him down, shoulders rigid as she considered the fate of this troublemaker. Even though she shouldn’t have been swayed by his apology, there was an earnestness to the way he spoke, humility in how he looked up at her now. It sent a flutter through her chest, a silly warmth that made her take a quick breath when she tucked her falling hair behind her ear.

“How do I know you won’t just run away?”

He latched onto this, blinking wildly before fumbling with his pressed robe.

In a moment he took her hand again, pressing inside it an emerald green charm. It was warm in his grasp.

Her lips parted as she observed its gleam in the low bakery light, a host of serpents carved into the surface which cooled with little trills of smoke from her palm. She gulped, springing her fist shut.

“It’s a family heirloom. I have to come back for it or Mum will have my head.”

Eyes widened as Helena noted the seriousness sculpted into his young face.

“I promise, I’ll bring them back for you Helena.”

She squinted, head tilting. “You…?”

A cringe ran through him. “Sorry, your sister told me your name.”

“Ah…”

They looked at each other for a moment, unsure when such a thick fog had descended between them. 

The boy sucked in a breath.

“Ten minutes then. And we’ll be here.”

She nodded, muscles relaxing on her face before tightening again. There was a feeling stirring inside her, a confusing weight to her chest that that boy stirred up with his silly blue eyes.

Blue.

She had never seen such a blue before. 

She rubbed the charm with her thumb, feeling the scales and twists of the serpents. Starkhavish serpents.

He had just reached the door when Helena managed to find her voice.

“Who are you?” she called, gripping the charm tight.

With a hand on the door, the boy halted. There was a second when she thought he wouldn’t say anything, pretending he hadn’t heard what she had asked. Still, he turned his head back, a somber smile on his face.

“Best you don’t know.”

And then he was gone.

--

Sebastian never did make it back to the bakery that day. 

Ducking out the door and starting his run down the vendor-lined walks, he expected to reach the road in less than five minutes, even with the crowds.

Maybe the average citizen would get held up in the traffic between the city’s walled rings, but he was no average person. 

He was the son of the Prince.

One of the three, in fact: ‘the youngest’ as Bray and Lannon wouldn’t stop reminding him. He huffed, bending under a plume of fabric that marked the beginnings of Market’s Circle. Skirting the wall behind the many stalls was no problem with his small build, lips shaping the number of vendors he passed until he counted the seventh.

That alleyway he turned into, its darkness a welcoming cloak against the prying eyes of the city. 

A smile grew on his face as he felt the cool breeze nip his cheeks. His shoes splashed through little puddles formed by leaking water pipes, creating a carefree spray in his wake.

Instead of sitting dutifully in a little golden carriage, he was running through the back roads of Starkhaven. Gone away were the overstuffed collars and pounds of jewelry around his neck. Today Father would have to harass someone else into those ridiculous gilded shoes

Sidestepping a loose grate, he laughed. Happy Freedom’s day indeed.

Not to mention his chance encounter. Sebastian swallowed, feeling warm.

Yes, he had caused trouble for her, but that was destined from the moment their paths crossed. He was a troublemaker. But still, she seemed eager for his help. 

Needed it, in fact, he thought with a grin.

And maybe.... If she were grateful enough that he had fulfilled his promise to her...

Blush stained his cheeks as he reentered the light, putting a hold on that pleasant fantasy. The residential alleyway had come to an end and Sebastian was once again on the people-filled roadway. It was time to get down to business.

Standing on his tiptoes, he scanned the crowd, searching for two heads of black hair amongst the red peonies and flags. It took some movement, but eventually, he spotted a set of little buns, stark against the oranges and browns.

“Bethany!” He shouted, hands cupped around his mouth.

Through the mess of the crowd, she heard him, turning back in confusion, then elation when she recognized who had called out to her. He waved them over, relief washing over him that they appeared to be safe and unharmed.

“Sebastian!” suddenly arms were around him as Bethany latched to his neck, the new flowers in her hair tickling his nose. 

“Hello again,” he rushed out, accepting her embrace. A smile hung on her face as her brother rolled his eyes.

“Ignore her,” he sighed, forcing a bashful smile to Sebastian’s face. The prince chuckled, cheeks warm as Bethany shoved at her brother’s shoulder. They only managed to refocus when he cleared his throat.

“Oh! Did you come to watch the parade with us?”  Bethany inquired, fixing her now drooping flower. “It’s going to start soon, you know.”

“No, actually,” he replied. “I came to tell you that you need to go back to your sister. She’s worried sick about you two.”

An annoyed sigh came from Bethany, who placed her hands on her hips, the flower hanging precariously from her hair. Sebastian suppressed his amusement at the way she scowled. It was an awfully grown-up expression for a nine year old. “She’s always worried sick. So all the fun has to end.” She turned her nose up. “I’d like to see her try to have fun for once.”

He blinked, the familiarity of her words astonishing.

“I’m sure she’s not trying to stop you from having a good time,” Sebastian reasoned, the words odd in his mouth. “Your sister just cares about you. Enough to buy you a whole pie.”

Carver frowned, eyes on the ground and saying nothing.

Bethany took it upon herself to cross her arms. 

“Well honestly, I wish she’d care less.”

This deja vu was threatening to make Sebastian’s skin crawl, the prince chewing the inside of his cheek. His mind twisted trying to find the right things to say.

“You’re lucky she cares at all. Trust me. I wish someone would try to chase me down in a foreign city because they wanted me to be safe.”

It was a strange moment of vulnerability. Something that was surprising to hear, let alone come from his own mouth. His throat grew dry after, a frightening feeling that he couldn’t fathom the reasons behind.

It worked though.

Bethany’s eyes softened when she looked at him again, arms loosening. His plea had given her something to consider. There was a pocket of seconds that passed where pupils darted between the siblings, an invisible conversation taking place beneath the surface. 

Finally, she sighed. 

“Alright, you win pretty boy. We’ll go.”

“Yeah,” her brother added. “It was pretty unfair to ditch her like that.”

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered.

“Oh!”

He swept his hand over his hair, processing what they had said. “That’s… wow that’s great!” 

A laugh bubbled from his throat.

“Yes! She’ll be so pleased.”

Carver gave him an awkward look, reminding him to tone it down.

He cleared his throat to a cough to cover the rest of his elation. After a second he nodded. Now he just needed a way for them through the crowd. 

The presence of the public had increased rapidly since he had arrived, the existing minutes till the parade’s beginning growing smaller. Not to mention the fact that they were at the forefront of the line, meaning that many people would be jostling along to the first and best view of the Royal family. 

He began a search for a less populated area to travel through, eyes running along the towering apartments on either side for any dips that would lead to freedom. Success came in the form of a dark narrow path to the left of the third lamppost down the street. Its tiny passageway was just right for two children such as the twins.

“Alright then. Follow me, but try to stay close.”

The path revealed itself to be a leg of one of Starkhaven’s many waterways, its grated surface requiring little space and functioning more like a divide. He paused at the entrance, hand resting on the building’s cool surface.

“If we follow this grate all the way, it should open up into a plaza a block away from the bakery.” He explained. “It’s a tight squeeze through, so one at a time.”

Carver didn’t hesitate to enter the cool shadows, puffing his chest.

“I’ll go first.”

“Good lad,” Sebastian chuckled. 

Once he had been swallowed up by the alley, Sebastian looked at Bethany.

“Go on, I’ll make sure no one comes up from behind.”

She sent a bright smile towards him before disappearing into the passage.

Sebastian waited a few seconds before following after the twins, a choice he would come to regret. Just as he had placed one boot onto the rattling grates he was yanked back by the hem of his shirt. His hands flew towards his assailant, scrambling and cutting on the sharp fins of a guard’s helm.

“Aye, I think I’ve found him!” The guard yelled over her shoulder, Sebastian struggling to free himself from her grip. “Stop squirming you weasel!”

He ignored her, eyes focused on the sliver in the wall where he had just sent the twins. They would think he abandoned them.

Sebastian writhed harder at that. Protests spilled from his lips even as he was tossed over the steel-covered shoulder of the guard, his kicks falling on apathetic chainmail.

“Your parents have been searching all over for you, you know,” the guard chided, with hardly a reaction to the last squirm he could manage. His head fell, bobbing with her gait.

“No, they really haven’t.” 

---

That day was quite rough if Sebastian allowed himself to think about it. There were many stings that had come under the heavy hand of discipline. The first round was not so out of the ordinary, his cheeks accustomed to the hurt that followed being late. That didn’t bother him as much as what had occurred after they found out about Grandfather’s charm. He cringed, rubbing his hand over his wrist. Andraste had had to do a good amount of comforting to get him through that one.

He hoped at least that wherever that girl had gone, she had held onto it for him.

A sigh left his lips.

Or maybe she had sold it because she was upset with him for causing trouble for her.

Would have served him right, he supposed.

Even still, he prayed that maybe, somewhere out there, she would hold onto it, and that the Maker would be kind enough to let their paths tangle together once again.

“Oi, spare, what’s your problem?”

Sebastian’s lashes fluttered, eyes focusing till he realized he had zoned out while staring at Lannon’s horse’s ass. Its blonde tail swished up, slapping against his own horse’s mouth and garnering an irritated neigh.

“I was just thinking on Mother Paulina’s inspiring words about good presentation. What’s your excuse for that, ‘hair’?”

Lannon rolled his eyes at the pun, Sebastian snickering as Bray grumbled and picked the leaves out of his dark hair.

“You’re just jealous of my height, little man, that’s why you picked this route.”

The branches of the woods hung low, scratching along his arms as he rode and sending a shudder through him. His horse stamped in response.

“Nay, I think our little brother’s trying to prove he’s a real man now, riding with the royal sons.”

A blue eye fell on him over Lannon’s twisted shoulder. “Am I right, Seb?”

For all that he was, Sebastian elected to play it cool, shrugging. 

“I just thought we’d take a ride. No ulterior motive in the slightest.”

“Sure,” Bray quipped, “That’s why you’re toting along your bow.”

Sebastian’s eyes fell to the quiver that he had concealed in his lap, shooting a cocky-eyed look at his eldest brother. “Well now that you mention it, the meadow is pretty close by. We can have another archery competition for Grandfather’s bow.”

A laugh came from the front of the pack. “Oh, this again? Lannon, didn’t you win last time?”

“Aye,” he sighed, running a hand through his curls. “If you wanted another shot you could’ve just asked.”

“What’s with the complaining? It keeps you on your toes doesn’t it?”

“That you do.”

“Care for a friendly race then?” Bray quipped. His heavy brows had dipped in a challenge, horse tugging at its lead. Lannon’s mare snorted as if raring to go, Sebastian’s mount the only one uninterested. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

“Let’s do it.”

Neighs filled the air as they kicked, the snapping reins and thundering hooves sending them careening through the twisted woods.

The forest was infamously dark and winding, functioning as a part of the natural barrier that separated the palace from the upper crust of Starkhaven’s circle. It took a skilled rider and years of practice to navigate the thick roots that tangled through the dirt, especially at galloping speeds. The brothers had both, stampeding with whoops of excitement and adrenaline rushing through their blood.

Sebastian’s breath came out quickly as he tugged his reins, cutting to the left in an effort to pull ahead of his siblings. His grin only doubled when he caught sight of Bray’s dumbstruck face in the dust behind him.

Air whipped through his clothes, raising his vest behind him as he stood in the stirrups, laughing.

The excitement of the moment could hardly be slowed, his heart pounding in time with his horse. It was so loud that he didn’t hear the distant shouts of his name, echoing through the knotted forest.

It was after he realized he could only feel one set of gallops that he stopped, clutching the reins to his chest.

“Woah,” he mumbled, resting a hand on the neck of his mare before peering at his surroundings. Gray light filtered in through the canopy like a dusty attic, pale yellow against haunting birch.

It was eerie how alone he could feel in a place of life.

“Sebastian!”

That was Bray.

“I’m here!” he shouted, hand around his mouth to amplify the sound.

Waiting for a response was unsettling, every flicker of movement drawing his eyes away.

“We have to go back!” he eventually heard. “Something’s wrong at the palace!”

Sebastian’s nose scrunched, confusion twisting his features.

“Are you serious?”

“Sebastian we don’t have time! You need to come back!” Lannon this time, vocal chords straining.

There was fear in that shout, something that made Sebastian lose his breath and forced his heart to his throat all at once. Without waiting for another response, he gathered the reins in his hand, knees squeezing the sides of his horse.

“I’m coming!” he shouted, voice cracking with effort. He glared down at his horse, panic coursing through his veins. For whatever reason, be it fatigue or rebellion, the mare refused to break into more than a trot, Autumn leaves crunching beneath at a maddeningly slow pace. Frustrated grunts left him as he pushed at her with his knees, begging the Maker to work in his favor.

“Come, on!” he pleaded, face heating with effort.

That’s when a sickening crack echoed through the forest.

Birds he hadn’t even known were there flew up, his horse rearing alongside them with a terrifying screech.

It sprinted like mad then, hooves pounding the ground with the force of an earthquake. Leaves and branches assaulted him in their path, allowing little choice but to press his face to his mare’s shining brown coat. 

The speed made it difficult for him to keep his eyes open. He was traveling on the horse’s whim alone, forest whizzing by. Between the galloping and wind in his ears, clangs of metal bounded through, the unmistakable shouts of guards and streams of arrows sending alarms through Sebastian’s mind. 

He couldn’t see, but knowing dread seized his heart:

The palace was under siege.

There was a moment when bright sunlight hit his eyes, causing him to pry them open. What he saw made him want to pitch over the side of his ride and lurch.

The marbled castle, so long a place called home, was burning. Black smoke curled towards the perfect blue sky, flits of ash falling from its body.

He could see figures in the fields, carrying torches and wielding silver weapons as they attacked one another in bloody combat. Looking to the castle he searched for anyone in the windows, nausea growing at the bodies that fell from the ledges.

“No…” he whispered, eyes wide. 

This was a living nightmare.

Fingers fumbled for the reins but the jostling of the ride made it impossible to grab onto. His arrows had disappeared, likely dropped in the commotion, and his bags repeatedly jumped and tangled around him. There were no other options now. Sebastian tucked in, resigning himself to searching for the trajectory of his hoofed menace.

It turned out he didn’t need to look very long, for his horse was headed straight towards the waterfall.

He gasped.

The waterfall was at the edge of the palace grounds, a natural carving in the hillside that poured straight into the Minanter river below. His heart went into overdrive, his chest shuddering so hard he thought his lungs might explode.

“Oh Maker, please don’t let me die from this,” he exclaimed, “please don’t let me drown in the river, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done, please, please just let me get out of this alive, please--” 

It spilled out of his mouth as he clenched his fists around the horse’s neck, the beast having no plans to stop. The edge of the twenty-foot fall was less than a few seconds away.

There was little he could do but brace himself and pray as the horse jolted to a stop beneath him. 

And he flew.

Sailing off the edge of the palace grounds, Sebastian careened into the falls, the world going dark before he even felt a splash of water graze his cheek.

--

Helena lingered near the back of the group as they walked, watching Bethany swing their father’s hand through her chattering.

Ma had required a longer examination than expected at Starkhaven’s clinic, pulling them behind on their travels another two days. Of course, that gave the twins more to be upset about when Pa broke the news to them.

They had returned to the inn at 5 and missed the parade for nothing.

She sighed, twisting the charm in her hand.

At least they were safe. They even got the chance to explore the city with their Pa, an opportunity that wouldn’t have happened if Helena hadn’t gotten the twins back on time. She scoffed. No thanks to that roguish boy.

He never came back for his charm, the fool. How careless he must be, stirring up trouble and making promises he can’t keep. 

Helena raised the jade to the sky, tilting her head at how it played in the light.

She at least hoped he didn’t get into too much trouble at home. He seemed to have plenty of it to go around.

“What do you have there, my little dragon?”

Helena looked past the charm, meeting the cool brown eyes of her father. Bethany was nowhere in proximity to them, a quick scan ahead telling Helena that she had latched to their mother again. Of course, that meant there was time for Helena and her Pa.

“Someone’s family heirloom,” she explained, placing it in his extended hand. Malcolm brought the charm to his face, looking at it from various distances and rubbing wide fingers over the craftsmanship. It shone like a kaleidoscope under the sun’s light.

“Oof, I’m sure that person’s kicking themselves right now.”

She rolled her eyes, focusing on the green rolling hills around them.

“He should be.”

Her father hummed, pulling at his stubble. The gray had started to come in, creating rivers of white in his long black hair. He looked at her with a knowing brow raise. “You didn’t happen to have your heart broken, did you?”

“No!” Helena crossed her arms, mouth gaping as her nostrils flared. She looked at him appalled before rolling her eyes for good measure. “I did not.”

There wasn’t a plan in Helena’s mind to speak further on the subject, but Malcolm had a way of getting things out of her. It was just his way, part of a bond that only dads could boast about sharing with their firstborn children. 

Or maybe it was that stupid eyebrow raise accompanied by the uncaring twirl of his staff and a low uttered “ohhh.”

“He said he would come back to get it, as a promise,” she spilled, glaring at the road ahead where Carver was threatening to shove Bethany into the river. “Never showed though.” Her lips pinched, marinating in the silence when she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. “I don’t know what his problem was!”

She heard muffled snorts from her father, but whipping her head to look at him left her with nothing but a neutral gaze. He sighed, returning his attention to the charm. “My, your first crush and he gives you a precious heirloom. He must have really been in love with you.”

Helena’s ears burned, eyes wide as she covered her face with a strangled noise. “Don’t say that!” 

“I’m just teasing you, Hel.” He reassured, swaying with his walk. Suddenly, he leaned down, putting a hand to her forehead. “Wow, you burn up just like Ma.” 

He exploded in laughter as she tried to push him, launching her body as hard as she could to get him to tip into the rapids below. “And you…! Need…!” she gasped “To stop eating all my bao in the middle of the night!” She gave up with a large sigh, letting her head rest against his muscled arm.

“Can’t help it, I taught you so well.” 

She grunted.

“You know, I’m sure the owner of this charm would’ve proposed to you on the spot if he tried them.”

Helena screeched, stamping away from her father’s good-natured laugh and heading towards the river bank.

“I’m getting water! Don’t wait up!” she spat, sliding down the steep grass-covered hill.

An ‘okay’ was called back, her family’s yells of joy drowned by the rushing river. 

Despite being a thinner branch of the waterway, the river was the loudest thing around for miles. Rapids coasted over dark-edged stone, swirling foam into its fine spray. She walked to it, boots slipping over the loose pebbles that lined the river’s edge.

Touching her fingers to the stream sent waves of relaxation over her body. The water was ice cold, a comforting feeling that unwound her muscles and breathed power through her veins in a way nobody could understand. When she lifted her finger, water had been replaced by ice, its fractiles twinkling in the abrasive sun. 

A tiny smile pulled at her lips as she observed her creation, before letting a surge of fire run over her limbs and melt it away with a sizzle. 

Squatted by the water, she attempted to repeat the process again, when suddenly something thumped against her boot. 

Looking down she expected to see a stick, or maybe even trash. The last thing she was prepared for was another boot. Horrified, she followed the seam up to a leg, which connected to the body of a young bo--

Her eyes widened, a yelp exploding from her lips as she scrambled up.

“Y-You!!” she whispered, grappling for her balance in the stones.

But ‘You,’ was unconscious. At least she really, really hoped he was. His brown skin had been blemished with bruises, life drained in a way she had never seen. Even his hair, which had been perfectly slicked days before, was matted in dark clots of blood. His clothes, different but still formal, were fraying and pink with injury.

Her jaw opened and closed, body feeling like it had crashed into a wall as she stared at the boy before her.

What could she do? What should she do? She wasn’t anything, she was a Ferelden nobody, with…. With…..

She gasped. Magic.

Immediately, she wrapped her arms around his waterlogged body, widening her stance. Then, with all the strength she could muster, she pulled, yanking him out of the stream and sending the two of them tumbling backward. Water from his body cascaded over her, drawing a whimper from her as her back thudded against the smooth rocks. 

Her breath came out in a shuddered fog, fingers catching on a portion of his skin.

He was as cold as ice.

Helena continued to pull, muscles burning until she had situated him completely out of the river and on her. Then, pinching her eyes shut, she tightened her grip around him. She imagined the shaking molecules between them, vibrations and buzzes of energy that jumped from skin to skin. The swarm of her power surrounded them.

Her mana surged inside her, pulling heat out of thin air, steaming the water out of their soaking bodies. Just as Pa had taught her to do for laundry.

Once the plaid on his back had stiffened into a crisp, she pulled him away, holding him by the shoulders as she peered at his face.

“Hey, ‘you,’ please tell me you’re in there somewhere…”

Her brows slanted, staring at his features for any movement beneath his closed eyes.

Heart raced harder, panic at the lack of response as she tucked him close again, this time pressing her ear firm against his chest.

A sigh left her. There was still a heartbeat.

The thought of CPR flitted across her mind before she shoved it away, face red as she attempted to lay him flat on the ground. Hands smoothed his tousled hair back, smearing on the red that had appeared there. She gulped.

Drying his clothes was one thing, but healing him? When she didn’t even know what had happened to create these injuries?

Her hands shook as she placed them over him, brain wracking for any words her father had imparted to her about repairing wounds. She rubbed her fingers together.

“It’s just like I told your sister, Hel. You don’t have to know your patient’s soul. You just have to know their skin.”

“That sounds creepy Pa.”

“Well now you’re just taking me out of context,” he grunted, tossing an orange between his hands. He pointed to the river.

“Look at the carp that swim in the river. They eat in it. Live in it. Take up space. And eventually, they litter it with their bones. But--” he raised a finger. “They make the river healthy. Why?”

Helena glared at the carp jumping through the rapids. 

“Because they know the body they live in. They can feel the crevices that need life, course through the veins of the stream itself.”

He looked pointedly at her.

“Be the body, Hel.”

“Be the body,” she whispered, pinching her eyes shut.

Her fingers flexed over the boy’s body, wrestling with the space that seemed to keep her out. It took paced, quiet breathing for them to relax. 

Be the body.

She remembered how he moved, slipped through the shadows like he had been raised in them his whole life. The way his skin reddened under her stare, his propensity to continuously check over his shoulder. 

Mana poured through her fingers, more and more of his body language becoming fresh in her mind.

The twist of his hand around her wrist, how unsure of a grip it was even with the confidence behind it. 

Different from his faith when he relinquished the charm to her, warmth blooming from his skin to hers.

She felt that same warmth now, letting her palm fall to his forehead in soothing, twisting motions. Just as she did to help her siblings rise from a restless sleep.

So deep in her healing trance was she that when he sputtered to life with a cough, she jerked back, breaking the spell before it had been able to do any significant healing.

Her heart screamed as she returned her hands to his face, twisting him towards her with panicked eyes.

“You’re….”

Those blues.

Water exited his mouth as his body rejected it, hands searching for purchase on the ground.

She could do little but release him as he convulsed, brows knit.

With her minimal training on the subject, she had only managed to draw the water from his lungs. That seemed to be enough to stir him from unconsciousness. Still, a wince tore through her at the bruising that shone under his ragged shirt. He would need much more healing.

“Oh! The Kirkwall Chantry!! You’re all quite far from home!”

Her father’s voice boomed from over the hillside, making Helena gasp and turn back to the direction she had come. 

Red pointed hats peaked out from the tall spokes of green, stirring panic through her veins. She had to go now, or they would all be in trouble.

Thankfully, the boy had stopped coughing, clouded eyes half-lidded in the sun.

“Hey,” she whispered, gently tugging his face towards her. “Do you remember me?”

He blinked, head lolling about from side to side as he shielded himself from the sun.

“I…. don’t know….” he started coughing again. “I don’t remember …. Anything…”

Helena’s heart sank, but there was little she could do for the boy.

“I’m sorry. I can’t stay and help you. My family’s in danger,” she whispered, looking back towards the sisters who were speaking at length with her father. Shiny helmed templars had begun to appear behind, almost like they had been plucked from her nightmares.

“I need you to count to ten, and then scream as loud as possible. For both of us.” she bit her lip.

The boy blinked heavily, brows furrowed in pain.

“Who…”

“Please forget you saw me. I’m so sorry.”

Though disoriented, he nodded, eyes falling closed as he dipped closer to the shade provided by his arm. She cursed that she couldn’t do more.

Helena rose, shaking on her legs. Time was running short.

As quietly as she could manage, she sprinted down the river bank an extra fifteen feet, taking care not to displace the rocks too harshly. A sharp left took her straight to the main road, breath held to disguise her efforts. By that time, the young boy must have made it to ten, as a sharp call for help sounded from the bottom of the bank. Helena watched, making sure the Sisters took interest in the voice before shouting herself for her father.

“Pa!”

He turned over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face before giving her a nod.

The two groups broke away from each other then, the little band of chantry folk bowing with good graces before seeking out the source of the yell. To her relief, her family had no trouble doing the same. 

She was still shaking as she waited for them to reach her, eyes darting to the river bank and back. Whatever was occurring down there was invisible to her sight. The pat of her father’s hand around her back ushered her along.

“What happened, Hel?”

Her father asked her this after ten minutes of walking silence. 

Skin pale with nerves and nausea spinning in her belly, Helena would shake her head. There was little she understood about her time in Starkhaven, from the mysterious boy to the charm, and finally to finding his body floating through the river. All she could do was replay that scene, her arms the only thing tying his life to the Earth, and the terrifying way her heart stopped when she saw those ocean blue eyes.