The Light Surrounding Us (Quantum Tangle x OffToTheRaces)

[OffToTheRaces]

“So shall we begin the announcement preparations?”

“I apologize, did I miss the first part of the conversation? Preparations for what?”

“For your engagement to Nathaniel, of course. The two of you have been as thick as thieves since you were able to walk upright on your own. Surely the next steps should be down the Chantry aisle.”

“…Arl Howe did you not fight against Orlais in the war? Because surely if you had, you would realize it would be absurd for me to marry my brother. And besides…marrying into your family would mean you’d be around more often than you already are.”

~~~

She could count on one hand all of the instances when the Teryn of Highever had raised his voice in the past – surely this should count as one of them? Insulting an old family friend should rouse some manner of response – especially an Arl and a man who, despite his – unsavory qualities – was close to their family, and should be tolerated if not respected.

Though Althea would even now defend herself, stating that even suggesting that she insulted the patriarch of house Howe was an exaggeration, and at most she had teased him for implying something that was utterly ridiculous.

How could he possibly suggest such a thing! Marry Nathaniel?

She had picked leeches off his back just weeks prior, after daring him to swim through the murkiest part of a nearby lake. The same boy who drank vials filled with Nan’s dressing laced with the Antivan spices while they competed to see who could keep their arrows on target, despite their weeping eyes and burning stomachs – and those were small slivers of their antics. Where there was mischief, there was a Howe and a Cousland. From the hills of Highever to the shores of Amaranthine, Nathaniel and Althea had crafted a friendship that to them, in their bright eyes of youth, was unshakeable by any force…

Until recently.

Where had this incessant desire to wedge something as ludicrous as love between them come from?

Althea suspected the comments had seeds rooted from her Mother. Since her daughter had turned 15 that summer, the Teryna had been making remarks off hand about planning for her official ‘debut’ to society, to show that she was available to receive suitors.

Althea was unable and unwilling to mask her displeasure at the idea then – and now that the subject had gone beyond the privacy of the Cousland hearth, out of shock and frustration she had dug in her heels.

She had no intention of marrying anyone.

The Arl had chortled at her dismissively, but when her Mother learned of the exchange, every stone in the castle cowered. Althea expected the lecture – the near hysteric monologue
surrounding decency and upholding the family name, and that while Ferelden women are by no means meek and delicate, they are still Ladies regardless. She expected everything, as they were all snippets of lectures she’d heard before, if not from her Mother than from her teachers or Nan.

What she had not expected, was her Father’s response…but Bryce Cousland always had a way of making the stars shine with wonder in his daughter’s eyes.

It had taken them a full day to ride west to the edge of the thickest part of the woods, bringing with them only what they had packed themselves and were able to carry with their horses. Their
pace had been quick to ensure that they arrived before it was too dark, so there was not much time afforded to talking; and even during their brief pauses, the conversation did not focus on what was so clearly still hanging in the air – a thick tension which gnawed guiltily at parts of Althea’s young, stubborn heart. For a good part of the night, she tossed and turned restlessly…and only managed to finally fall asleep after crawling into her Father’s bed and curling herself up close to his side.

With only a few hours of sleep needed to restore her energy, the young pup was up before the morning light had crept even partially across the floor. Dressed in chestnut colored breeches tucked into sturdy knee high boots, a deep green colored tunic which once belonged to Fergus, which she had cinched with a thick belt to keep it from swimming around her young, lithe figure, her outfit charmingly betrayed the fact that she had apparently packed in a hurry -- which was true.

Partially due to excitement, though mostly because she was worried that her Mother would try to talk her Father out of letting her go.

As she finished wrapping a ribbon through her hair, Althea jumped into the bed next to her Father - a playful contrast to the silent care she had taken with her steps the night before. "Papa, it's already dawn! Wake up!" Smiling brightly, she prodded her fingers impatiently against the Teryn's side for a moment before taking one of the pillows to thump lightly against his chest.

 

[Quantum Tangle]

What was he to do? Bryce pondered restlessly in his sleep. He wondered has the years truly passed so quickly. Little Althea had grown now, becoming a woman, but the Teyrn would always remember his youngest bouncing happily upon his knee while he sang songs of a war since passed. Truthfully he felt blessed to have his family. Many days he woke in a cool sweat with the fearful thought that this had all been a dream. To lose the love of his Eleanor would be a tragedy unlike any he’d experienced, for her love and patience gave him strength. Their eldest son Fergus was inspiring. If only Bryce had shared the boy’s same confidence and inner strength, how grateful should he be?

Yet the day his daughter was born the Lord felt indulged himself a selfish luxury. Morning and night as a young babe he was the first and last thing little Althea, his pup, would see. In turn she followed him. Eleanor admitted once jealousy at his connection to their daughter, saying that the way he looked upon Althea was one of a man in love. It was true. Bryce loved his daughter fiercely wanting to let her rise from her station, as a daughter and second born many of the responsibilities towards Highever were secondary. Her future was truly free. She could be all that she wished, and though his wife insisted he spoiled her temperament, Bryce, could not help but feel proud seeing his daughter’s defiance.

A rebel princess he would call her, if only he’d known that in fifteen years those little lessons would serve to pain him.

His friend and comrade Rendon Howe was not a man easy to like, but he respected the man’s cool intuition. Good friends since their fight against Orlais he’d never questioned the bitter man’s council. When he proposed an alliance of marriage between their families? Nothing ever felt more logical. Nathaniel was Howe’s eldest son and heir to Amaranthine, and though the boy was a few years older than Althea they grew together as close friends. The boy was meek. And Bryce had hoped that Althea’s fierce demeanor would inspire more confidence, but as it stand the boy stood in her shadow as she threw barbed remarks at Rendon at the mere suggestion of marriage.

When Eleanor came to him with news of his daughters actions the Teyrn felt his temples pain. Oh why for all the Maker’s Grace would she say such things?! For the first time in a long time he was furious. He remembered marching into her room and demanding she pack her things. They were going to the Cabin, but this was no retreat he told himself. This was to be a lesson for his sweet pup. Truthfully the Cousland lord only had himself to blame and he knew it.

She made him soft in his heart. His daughter inspired a gentleness that many would never see from the tireless man. Even in the night, he felt Althea slip into his bed and tuck into his side. There he held her remembering when she was so small and rest silently upon his chest. His presence was the only thing that could calm her cries, and when she lay that way atop of him she was ever content. Needing to be beside him, she was his shadow.

With an audible “Oof!” the Teyrn awoke to his daughter’s bright smile, as if she’d forgotten that she’d been in certain trouble. Forgotten that her father still held a disagreement with her. Lifting the thumping pillow he tossed aside and reached with strong arms to scoop his daughter up and toss her ontop of the bed beneath him. Diligent fingers found the delicate crooks of her legs, arms, neck, and sides. All the things that would make her squirm and regret her rude awakening.

A man in his mid-fifties Bryce Cousland had lost the dark chocolate color in his hair, the same color of his daughters. Instead now he’d grown into the course silver but his face belied such an age. Dazzling eyes stared down upon her with comfort and joy, a gaze her mother often praised as one of his most pleasant features. The romance between her parents was strong and they often described the other with such poetic fondness. But the line between romance and truth was thin, for the Teyrn had physically kept in enviable shape for his active lifestyle. Being the Lord of Highever had not slowed him down and made him connected. Althea would know, for much like her father they needed a touch of the wild. And their little hunts became an activity that only they shared. Fergus did not hold the taste for hunting wild game, much like his mother. And now that the boy had married and started a family of his own Bryce’s son was beyond his guidance, but not beyond his pride.

“Stubborn child could you not afford your father a proper rest?” Bryce teased in acquisition continuing to lightly tickle his little beauty; nevertheless, the moment was quick to pass with a sigh as the man rolled off the bed to his feet quickly reaching a laced shirt and slacks. He could never sleep comfortably encumbered by clothing, even covers bothered him, and all he would bother to wear were his undergarments out of modesty. From her view Althea would see the aged and toned back of her father marked with light scars. Wounds from arrows and close calls with the edges of swords. A reminder that not too long ago Ferelden had been lost in a Rebellious war with the Orlesians for their freedom.

“Have you prepared your satchel? I wish to show you something.” He asked with insistence.

Althea would know her father well and had good sense to see that he’d immediately moved to the business of the day. Never a man to waste time or words, Bryce Cousland only tempered his ambitions out respect of the Royal Court, but there was no Court in his cabin. Out here in the wooded forest outside of Highever Keep they were free of responsibility.

 

[OffToTheRaces]

Had Althea asked as many questions during her tutoring lessons as she did to her Father, she would be the highest Scholar of the Age. Since she could speak, she had a constant string of questions and queries, almost exclusively for the Teryn and his going abouts. What was he doing? Who was he meeting with? Why were they important? Could she go with him? What would they be talking about? What did this do? How does that work? And so on and so forth…Her Father’s word was above and beyond any others. Andraste herself could speak to the girl and she would look to Bryce for affirmation instead.

Eleanor had resolved some time ago to accept this fixation between her daughter and her husband, knowing in part the childhood tendencies of clinging towards one parent, but moreso that the adoration was more than mutual. Althea was ever his shadow, and Bryce seemed to ensure, even indirectly, that the moments without his pup were few and far between. The Teryna was grateful for their closeness, though she knew how tightly the young girl had her Father wrapped around her finger and how easily she could slip back into his graces. She had been certain to mention this to her husband before their departure to the cabin.

Sure enough, the pieces of her heart that had been wracked with guilt had all but healed over after a night curled up at Bryce’s side. With youthful verve renewed and past discretion's all but buried, she shrieked in delight as her Father’s strong arms gathered her up. Quickly her hands pushed against his chest, trying to fend him off as she writhed underneath his fingers. She had expected the ‘attack’ to last longer, fully prepared to try and wedge her long legs up between them to give herself space to reach for one of the pillows again – but her Father’s sigh alerted her attention, tilting her head as he withdrew from the bed.

Dark eyes curiously wandered over him, appraising faded scars, the origin stories of which she was all too familiar. This was not the first morning she had jumped into his bed to wake him, and it was not the first time she had seen him partially clothed. As a child she had run her fingers over the marks from the war and asked him with innocent distress if they still pained him.

“Packed and ready!” She responded keenly, nearly leaping out of the bed, turning her attention from her Father’s back to the floor, searching for his boots. The sooner he dressed, the sooner they could be outside.

For a shadow, she yearned to have the sun on her face.

“Is it by the lake?” She asked ,curiosity peaked by a potential surprise. Finding his boots next to one of their bags near the door, she quickly retrieved them, keeping them close against her chest as she carried them back across the room.

“Can we go swimming today?”

 

[Quantum Tangle]

Ever keen to define precociousness in her father’s eyes, Althea, was a slender thing, the way clothes hung from her. On several accounts he’d been forced to reprimand Fergus for implying his younger sibling was secretly a boy in a dress. Alas he could not argue her elven frame. Her bust had nary a budge since entering her teens, and Bryce knew that if she had not gained shape at fifteen years it was unlikely she ever would. Woefully it was his parents who were to blame from his father’s sisters who were flighty rails venturing the wilderness like a wild pack. Eleanor was gifted with womanly curves even for the rueful sea-witch that she was when they first met. Thankfully his daughter carried on those curves that snug to her frame. Many men would overlook such a beauty for Althea’s did not announce itself. The proud father was certain that any boy who would bother to overlook the smudges of dirt, and push those curled bangs from her eyes would see the jewel she was.

The Teyrn had always admired his darling girl. Ever since the moment he held her in his arms, practically stealing her from Eleanor’s teat after the first latch. He was a good father to Fergus and loved his son, but the boy’s younger sister held a promise in her eyes. Bryce knew that she would be somebody important. As if the Maker himself had whispered unspoken canticles of her future, and never did his faith in her wane. Even in his frustrations with her the doting father saw the person she would become and he was so proud of her.

Questions however alerted him from contemplation as his daughter hinted her interests for the day. The Lake? Oh he knew how found she was of it. Like a mermaid she could not be parted from water, and in that it reminded him the way Eleanor would dive freely from her father’s ship. Never fearful that a rogue wind would take it too far, never worried about what might wade below the surface.

“Perhaps we will later my child.” The older man spoke as he slipped the fitted black trousers about both legs and lifted them in succession. A gentle fabric belied the dark leather of those pants, and as he laced the front of his pants memory served him a small smile. Eleanor enjoyed her husband in clothing that fitted his form. Often admiring his backside and encouraging the Teyrn to blush, but the woman was no prude and openly displayed their affection. Those small touches to the face even when Lords and Ladies were present, none would doubt how gratefully in love the two were and continued to be.

Taking the boots from his daughter both Bryce and Althea paused to hold for just a moment. Neither would notice the lingering gaze, the smile of appreciation, a pleasure to be in eachothers presence. Then the moment passed and they continued as the dutiful man insisted, “No, first I must show you something out towards the shed, something I feel you need at your age.” Boots firmly fitted with each clack of his heels to settle them in, the man turned tucking his white shirt into his waist. “You are becoming a woman now Althea, and in with that comes important lessons that you must understand and endure. One day you will be a Lady in another Lord’s lands. And I would see that you not become some dimwitted chamber maid as some my companions’ wives.” Belt strapped about him the dashing Teyrn trotted proudly over to his daughter and held her face with tender appreciation. “A ladies place is not submission, but service: Service to her Lord and Husband, service to her people and lands. One day your words will travel all over Ferelden. Be it those words of reason and temperance I should hope, just as your mothers.” Patting her cheek gently he released her quick to lift a satchel and set of supplies he’d left prepared by his door.

“Follow.” Was all he said, not that he ever had to with his darling daughter.

 

[OffToTheRaces]

There had been numerous occasions where Fergus, winded and flustered by his younger sister’s spritely energy and nimble talents, had jested that she was not truly a Cousland, but an Elven child switched with the real Althea at birth. Her slight figure allowed her to tread lightly, whether during a hunt or behind unsuspecting ‘victims’ of her childish schemes to send someone into fright, to dodge blows during sparing and of course, help her to secure an impossible spot to hide.

She had once spent the better half of the day curled up above the cabinets in the kitchen, tucked into the corner out of sight while a bewildered Nathaniel searched the entire castle.

Her Mother often lamented that Bryce’s petname for their daughter should be ‘kitten,’ not ‘pup,’ but for all her feline like qualities, Althea certainly carried the loyalty of the Ferelden dog lords. And now, as she watched her father dress, she regarded him with those deeply infatuated puppy eyes.

Propping herself on the edge of the bed, she crossed her legs beneath her, holding onto her ankles so she could gently rock in place – initially to suppress her own eagerness and show her Father that she was listening. Those bright eyes however flickered defensively when the conversation turned towards something that sounded vaguely like her Mother’s lectures. Responsibility…the lessons of womanhood…Service…Husbands. Tempted to scowl, Althea maintained a neutral expression – well as neutral as a teenager could possibly keep their displeasure - brows furrowed as she averted her gaze to the ground. In that moment, she recalled why exactly they’d come to the Cabin in the first place. Her glee to spend time alone with her Father had dismissed any thoughts of Rendon Howe and his ridiculousness aside…but now as Bryce spoke, all she could think of was the smell of the perfumed scent of the candles in the Chantry on Fergus’ wedding day, and how tightly his bride had clung to her parents when they’d left from Highever.

Before her thoughts could dwell, her Father had lifted her face to look towards him again. Althea’s fingers tensed around her ankles, stilling briefly under his touch – comforted by the rough warmth of his hands, despite how his words pierced at her heart. Her lips pursed together tightly, watching him closely as he moved towards the door.

She was on her feet before he had even finished his beckon, fire on her heels that burned straight up through her tongue.

“I shouldn’t have to leave my home. There’s plenty of room in the castle! And why is everyone talking about this now! Fergus wasn’t wed until last year!”