Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2174565.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Dragon_Age_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Anders/Carver_Hawke, Sebastian_Vael/OFC
  Character:
      Anders_(Dragon_Age), Carver_Hawke, Sebastian_Vael, Male_Mage_Hawke,
      Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Reincarnation, Post_Game, Angst, Age_Difference, Eventual_Fluff,
      Masturbation, Hand_Jobs, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-21 Completed: 2014-11-13 Chapters: 26/26 Words: 39429
****** Days Gone By ******
by xxMad_Donaxx
Summary
     Twenty-four years after the Kirkwall Chantry was destroyed the
     sixteen year old son of reigning Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven
     dreams of the mage who destroyed it.
     For this Kmeme prompt:
     http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/
     11381.html?thread=45010805#t45010805
Notes
     Tags will likely evolve. The rating and warnings may change. I'm
     leaning towards some smut eventually but I've been wrong before.
     Enjoy! =)
***** Chapter 1 *****
Grant Vael bolted upright in bed. Weak moonlight filtered through the curtains
drawn over the window and he could just make out the wardrobe on the other side
of the room. Panting with panic he pushed the blankets off and weaved
unsteadily towards the balcony doorway. As large as his room was it was still
stifling after one of these nightmares. He fumbled the door open and took the
few steps towards the railing.
Taking deep breaths of the cool night air he gripped the rail and tried to calm
himself. Grant hated this particular dream. He’d been dreaming off and on about
a blonde mage that looked quite a lot like him for months now. Some of the
dreams were in places he knew but more of them seemed to happen somewhere in
the wilderness of Thedas. Not all of the dreams were night terrors but this one
was the worst of them.
In his dreams he was running through a field towards the safety of a dense
forest. He never reached the trees. There’s sharp pain in his chest and he
stumbles. Unable to reach the arrow, he doesn’t have any doubt that’s what
caused the pain; he can’t heal himself enough to go on. On his hands and knees
he keeps crawling for the forest but it’s too far away. A voice calls out
before he collapses and he struggles to breathe lying in the field. He feels
the arrow yanked out but he’s too weak to cry out. The best he can manage is a
wince as his shoulder is grabbed and he’s roughly turned over.
He always wakes before he can see the face of this mage’s murderer. What
bothers him the most about this dream is the voice that calls out and the only
word that’s understandable, Anders. The voice is very familiar but Grant can’t
place it. It’s too hard to think through the panic of nearly dying. The dream
doesn’t ever fade completely but he doesn’t remember the voice exactly after
he’s calm.
Then there’s the thought that he might be dreaming of the Anders and not just
some random thing his sleeping mind conjured up. Grant knew the history, how
he’d ignited a war and the horrifying thing he’d done to start that war. That
he might be dreaming of that Anders and how closely he resembled the mage was
very frightening. Grant hadn’t told anyone of these dreams. He was having them
more often though, especially this one. As he looked out over the castle
courtyard and watched the guards walking back and forth on the battlements he
knew he’d have to talk to someone about them. This was the third time he’d had
this particular nightmare in two weeks. Grant was half afraid he’d somehow
attracted the attention of a demon.
None of his family knew that he was a mage. He knew that his father, the Prince
of Starkhaven, would send him elsewhere if he knew. His mother would have
little say in the matter. Grant’s elder brother and sister were too involved
with Starkhaven politics to care much about him. Being the third child had
spared him that at least.
For four years Grant had technically been an apostate. At twelve he’d spent
months in a frightened quandary. Mages weren’t sent to circles anymore but
living in a fortress in the middle of nowhere held no appeal. Not all mages had
been gathered at one of the three Keep’s, one in Ferelden, one in the Anderfels
and one in Antiva. Grant had been set to run away to see if he could find one
of these apostates so he could learn to at least control the magic. He hadn’t
even made it past the city gates before his current teacher had found him.
Graham Harrison was the only person he dared trust. His mentor’s past was a
mystery as was his reasons for revealing his apostate status to the youngest
Vael. Grant was thankful whatever the man’s reasoning was. He didn’t have to
leave his home to learn about his dangerous gift.
Grant straightened and ran a hand through his short hair. He watched the guards
make another circuit before turning back to the door. Sebastian had approved
his request that Graham teach him about healing. For the last four years he’d
spent four hours three days a week learning much more than just bandaging,
herbology, and various other related things. Tomorrow he would find some excuse
to go down into the city and pay Graham an unscheduled visit.
He slowly made his way back to his bed and crawled under the covers. Grant fell
asleep thinking about the voice he could almost recognize. The rest of his
night was uninterrupted. He made sure that he wasn’t late for breakfast because
that would mean having to sneak out. His mother and father already sat at
opposite ends of the table and his brother Douglas was already sitting at their
father’s right.
Elle followed him into the dining room. Grant sat nearest his mother and his
sister a little further down the long table on the opposite side. He smiled at
the elf that served them and tucked in quietly. Since there was no good time to
interrupt a discussion of Starkhaven nobility Grant turned to his mother.
“May I go to the market today Mother?” Grant asked after he was almost
finished.
“What of your studies?” she said quietly.
“I just have Sister Matilda this morning,” he said. “Brother Richard is with
his ailing mother so I have the afternoon free.”
“Very well,” Anne Vael said with a small indulgent smile. “Just make sure to
behave properly.”
“I will,” Grant said returning her small smile.
Not for the first time Grant was glad he was her favorite. Whether it was
because he was the youngest or that he was the only child to have inherited her
looks, didn’t matter. Anne had intervened on his behalf with Sebastian several
times. Grant wasn’t sure why but knew that Sebastian was stricter with him than
with either of his siblings.
Paying attention to Sister Matilda was difficult throughout the morning. She
was his history tutor. The subject was boring enough most days but he was eager
to talk to Graham and found it difficult to even act interested. Both of his
siblings were absent at lunch and he ate quickly. Still chewing his last bite
he pushed his plate away and stood.
“Be back before supper Grant,” Anne said calmly.
“Okay,” he replied after he’d swallowed.
Grant started for the door but his father’s stern voice stopped him. “Where are
you off to?”
“The market,” Grant said turning slightly.
Sebastian was frowning as he’d expected. He glanced at Anne and back to Grant.
“Behave yourself,” he said sternly.
“I will,” Grant replied.
He waved at the door and Grant hurried out before he could change his mind or
add stipulations. The soldiers at the castle gate noted his exit but didn’t
impede him. Grant hurried through the city, nodding politely to those that
acknowledged him.
As son of the Prince, good behavior among the people was of paramount
importance. Why this had been drilled into him since he was very young was a
complete mystery to Grant. Sebastian had demanded this of all three of his
children of course but Grant had heard it twice as much as his siblings,
usually with a stern frown. He had more memories of that frown than he did
anything else. Grant pushed his father from the front of his mind and focused
on getting to Graham’s cottage.
The Minanter gurgled peacefully not far away when he reached the very edge of
the city. Grant knocked on the door of his mentor’s humble dwelling. It was
made of stone but unlike most of the city it wasn’t granite or marble. The roof
was tiled, it was only one story, and there were only two rooms. The
furnishings inside were as simple as the outside. Grant thought the house
suited Graham perfectly.
Grant knocked on the door and shifted impatiently from foot to foot as he
waited. He knocked again hoping that Graham wasn’t out. Moments later he sighed
in relief as the door opened. Graham’s frown turned to a small smirk as he
turned and waved him in. His long black hair threaded liberally with gray
streaks was pulled back in a loose tail as usual. He was clean shaven, possibly
because of the scar that ran along the left side of his jawline. His attire was
simple peasant fare but it didn’t detract from the noble aura that surrounded
him.
“Can I expect soldiers banging on my door in an hour or so?” Graham asked his
voice thick with amusement.
“I do have permission to be out,” Grant said closing the door behind him.
“Just…not to be here.”
Graham shook his head a little and pulled out a chair at his wooden table. He
gestured to the seat across from him and his amused smile turned to a serious
line. “What’s on your mind Grant?” he asked.
Grant sat and took a deep breath. He talked of the dreams for almost half an
hour, from the boring ones of working tirelessly in a clinic somewhere to the
frightening ones. Graham listened patiently, eventually leaning back with his
left arm across his chest and the right rubbing the gnarled scar. From past
experience Grant knew his mentor was thinking deeply.
“You experience these dreams from this mystery mage’s point of view?” Graham
asked slowly.
“Yes,” Grant replied. “I’ve seen his reflection in mirrors, pools of water, the
sea, things like that. It’s actually really creepy how much he looks like me.”
“Maybe you resemble him,” said Graham.
“That doesn’t exactly make me feel better,” Grant said frowning.
“Oh don’t worry,” Graham said smiling as he stood. “I don’t think they’re the
result of demons or spirits. Come with me. I may have something that might
help.”
He followed Graham into his bedroom. This room was as simple and sparsely
furnished as the rest of the house. There was one bed, one wardrobe and a chest
that sat at the foot of the bed. Graham knelt and opened the chest. The top
layer appeared to be some form of armor with bits of leather and fur just
visible before he shoved it to one side. There were several thin books at the
bottom and Graham flipped through several before choosing three.
Graham frowned at another knock on the door and handed the books to him as he
strode to the front door. Grant waited in the bedroom doorway, clearly visible
but able to make a quick escape through the window to his left if necessary.
The knock sounded again before Graham opened the door.
The man standing on the other side was clearly a warrior even though he wore no
armor. Grant could see a great sword poking up over one shoulder. His short
hair was black and graying at the temples, he had blue eyes and perpetual worry
lines creased into his forehead. A sunny smile broke out on Graham’s face the
instant he opened the door.
“Carver!” he exclaimed happily. Graham pulled him into a hug and he grimaced
briefly before smiling and returning it. “Maker’s Breath it’s been ages!”
“I was in the area and I thought…” Carver began. He trailed off when he spied
Grant standing in the bedroom doorway. “Bloody flames…who…”
“Oh,” Graham said turning slightly. “Let me introduce you to my latest
student.” He pulled Carver into the room and closed the front door. “This is
Grant Vael.”
“Vael?” Carver said sharply tearing his gaze away from him.
“Vael,” Graham said smugly. He turned slightly and gestured at Carver. “Grant
this is Carver Hawke, a very good friend of mine.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Grant said politely. “Graham, I really should be going.
Father…”
“Yes,” he said nodding. “Read through those books. Maybe it’ll help you figure
out those dreams. I’ll see you tomorrow at the clinic.”
Grant nodded and made for the front door when Graham pulled Carver away from
it. He could feel the warrior’s gaze following him and held in a sigh when the
door was shut behind him. After only a moment of thought Grant moved around the
cottage to the opened kitchen window. He wasn’t normally a nosy person but
Carver’s reaction to him was intriguing. Grant stood at the edge and listened
intently.
“…noticed the resemblance,” Graham said irritably. “Sebastian’s noticed it too.
He keeps that boy on an extremely short leash. I had to go through his mother
to even be allowed to teach him. Sebastian was set on giving him to the
Chantry.”
“Is he a mage?” Carver said very softly.
“Yes,” Graham replied just as softly. “It’s a wonder he’s managed to keep it
from his parents for so long.”
“You’re walking on thin ice brother,” Carver said sternly. “Just being here is
dangerous never mind teaching that boy.”
“What better place to hide than directly under his nose?” Graham said smugly.
“Besides, who would have guessed at him having a mage child who just happens to
look like Anders who is also adept at creation magic? He’ll make an excellent
healer.”
Grant hurried away before he could hear Carver’s reply, reeling in shock.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Random Information, Graham is 56 and Carver is 51.
History lessons had taught Grant that Garrett Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall,
had saved many of the mages after Anders had destroyed the Chantry. It was well
known that he’d supported the mages in the war that followed. Garrett Hawke had
disappeared during the war however. His whereabouts had remained unknown since.
The warrior had been introduced as Carver Hawke and had called Graham brother.
This was far from irrefutable evidence but Grant thought he’d just figured out
part of his mentor’s shadowy past. The thought that he was being taught by the
Champion of Kirkwall was both frightening and exciting. His reasoning for
teaching was still a complete mystery.
He thought of Graham’s smug reply to Carver’s admonishment. Who was he hiding
from and why? There were important people in Starkhaven but none that might
have an interest in Garrett Hawke, none but his father at any rate. Sebastian
didn’t often speak of his time in Kirkwall or the five years after his
departure. Grant had heard enough stories from his father to know that he’d
known the Champion of Kirkwall and their friendship had been shattered somehow.
If Graham truly was Garrett Hawke he was risking much to teach him. Could it be
his resemblance to Anders? Grant clutched the three thin books tightly as he
headed home. He wanted to know more than ever what these dreams were and if the
mage truly was the monster that had destroyed Kirkwall’s Chantry.
Grant arrived well before supper. He sought out his mother to let her know he
was home and went straight to his room. There he sat on the balcony with the
three books. All three were filled with neat script and he chose one at random.
It was clear very quickly that he was reading someone’s journal.
The dates that preceded each entry so far indicated this was written nearly
thirty years ago. Some entries were barely a paragraph and others took up two
pages. There were names he didn’t recognize and references to places that Grant
knew only from textbooks. In the hour and a half he read two names he
recognized came up frequently, Anders and Carver. The image the author painted
of the former did not match what he’d been taught.
He was distracted through dinner and ate quickly. When he was finished Grant
excused himself and went back to his room. When the sunlight faded he moved
inside and sat at his desk reading by candle light. Grant had read through most
of the book by the time he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He shuffled to bed and
slept.
When he woke it was to a dream of the clinic that didn’t fade as quickly as
usual. Grant had dreamt of the mage healing person after person. He remembered
clearly the drive to save everyone he possibly could, working until he was
exhausted and pushing on anyway. There were similarities between this dream the
last entry he’d read. The author of the journal had gone to Anders’ clinic, not
for healing but instead to help, and had found Anders utterly exhausted having
spent all night healing victims of a tunnel collapse.
Neither his dreams nor the journal entries matched what he’d been taught about
Anders. The mage had been described as crazy, obsessed, and ruthless. He’d
destroyed the Chantry to start a war and thought nothing of his victims. If the
journal’s author is to be believed, nearly everything he’d learned about Anders
was very wrong.
Since he was eager to speak with Graham about what he’d read and why he’d been
given the journal in the first place, the morning seemed endless. His thoughts
were constantly drawn to the journal and the contradictory information it
contained. When he finally made it to Graham’s clinic that afternoon he was
nearly bursting with curiosity. Graham was at the back of the long building
grinding elfroot. Grant was glad the building was nearly empty as he hurried
back. Carver lounged casually at the desk nearby.
“Good afternoon Grant,” Graham said cheerfully as he approached.
“Graham,” Grant said politely. He turned to Carver and nodded. “Serah Hawke.”
Carver grunted and Graham snickered quietly. “Just Carver,” he said with a
grimace.
Grant smiled at him and received a small frown. He looked over at Graham when
his shoulder was bumped. Graham offered him the pestle and Grant took it
gratefully.
“Don’t mind him,” Graham said. “He’s always a little grumpy.”
There was a snort from behind them and he glanced back to see Carver had sat up
straight and now watched them. He turned back to the mortar. “Graham,” he said
quietly. “Those journals you gave me yesterday…are they yours?”
“They are,” he replied in a normal tone. “You don’t need to worry about what
you say in front of Carver, he knows what we are.”
“I won’t tell anyone either,” Carver said seriously.
He turned once more and smiled gratefully. This time he received a small smile.
Grant continued grinding the elfroot and after a moment of thought said
casually, “So you actually knew him? Anders I mean.”
“We did know Anders,” Graham said calmly.
“Don’t believe half the rot you hear about him,” Carver said irritably. “He was
a pain in the arse not a heartless killer.”
Grant turned once again to see Carver. He was frowning deeply and his brows
were pulled down in aggravation.
“What about the Chantry?” Grant asked.
“He was a desperate man who did a terrible thing,” Graham said still calm.
Grant turned to him and was a little surprised to see sadness in his
expression. “He was a very compassionate man.”
“Sebastian was there too,” Carver said cautiously. “What does he have to say
about it?”
“Father doesn’t speak of it very often,” Grant said.
Carver snorted again and stood. Grant watched him shake his head and move
around the desk. He shouldered his great sword and headed for the front doors.
“I’m going to wander. See you later…Graham.”
Grant watched him all the way to the door, noticing how fit he was for an old
man. He also noticed the hesitation before he said his mentor’s name. Graham
chuckled beside him when the door closed behind Carver and nudged his shoulder
again.
“As nice as it is to finally see that expression,” Graham said with an amused
smile. “He’s old enough to be your father.”
“What expression?” Grant asked in innocent confusion.
“That admiring expression,” he replied. “I’ve never seen you look even halfway
interested in anyone who comes in here.”
“Oh,” Grant said in a small voice. He focused on the mortar and pestle hoping
Graham wouldn’t see his flushed cheeks. “It’s not that I’m not…interested. If
Father found out I’d done…that…well…”
“Maker’s Breath,” said Graham disgustedly. “When I was your age I flirted
shamelessly with most of the neighbor’s daughters.”
“Why do you think I’m not allowed out of the castle?” Grant muttered. “I
honestly think he’s going to marry me off to some foreign noble for more trade
rights or some other political rubbish.”
“You could always find someone and run away,” Graham said sympathetically.
“That’s what my mother did.”
“Was she nobility?”
“She was. That’s why we ended up in Kirkwall after the Blight in Ferelden. We
had family there.”
Graham smiled and squeezed his shoulder before moving away to prepare the cook
pot for the elfroot. Grant continued to grind and thought of his dreams. The
possibility that he was actually dreaming of Anders’ life was still
frightening. The discrepancies between what he’d been taught and two people
who’d actually known him were very disturbing.
He took the mortar over to Graham and asked quietly, “Do you think that I’m
dreaming of his life?”
“I do,” said Graham smiling.
“Why did you give me your journals?” he said.
“Because you’re afraid of him,” Graham said. “What you’ve learned of Kirkwall
and the beginning of the Mage-Templar war is likely very biased. Your tutors
are all Brothers and Sisters of the Chantry. They focus on that one desperate
act and ignore the good works he did for the Fereldan refugees for seven years.
And anyone else who walked through his doors. My journals are admittedly biased
the other direction but you’re an intelligent lad capable of forming your own
opinion.”
“But why am I dreaming of him?” said Grant desperately looking up at the taller
man next to him. “And why do I look so much like him?”
“I have my suspicions,” said Graham evasively. “I really don’t think it’s
anything to worry about though.”
Grant nodded and tried to hide his disappointment. He knew little more about
his strange dreams than he did the previous day. As long as he wasn’t about to
turn into an abomination however, he could be patient. Grant decided that he
would continue to read the journals and hopefully learn more about the man he
looked so much like.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Carver had spent most of the afternoon wandering through Starkhaven
remembering. Seeing Grant Vael had brought feelings to the surface he’d thought
long buried. Anders had been an aggravating man but he’d always had a soft spot
for the often infuriating healer. If he were completely honest with himself,
he’d spent years wishing he knew how to get Anders’ attention without starting
an argument. He had to be content with watching from a distance and doing what
he could to keep the other Templars away from him.
Even after that last brutal night in the Gallows Carver didn’t regret
protecting him. Having lived with three mages he was well aware of their
plight. In the Gallows he’d learned how badly corrupted the Templar order had
become. Carver didn’t agree with his actions but knew change was needed. After
they had fled Kirkwall the diverse group Garrett had gathered slowly fell
apart. He did regret not going with Anders when he and Garrett had split.
They had agreed it would be harder for Sebastian to track both of them. When
he’d been forced away from his brother he’d wandered the Free Marches, Nevarra
and Orlais, helping when he could and looking for either one of them. Almost a
year later he’d finally found Anders but it was too late to help him. His body
had been a gruesome sight, left to the carrion eaters and the elements for
Maker knew how long. Carver had burned what was left and continued to wander
Thedas, helping apostates he found along the way.
For twenty three years he’d been wandering, directing mages he came across to
one of the three strongholds. Carver had come across a few of the people
Garrett had called friends and had finally caught up with Garrett nearly ten
years ago when he’d settled in Starkhaven. He still thought his brother was
crazy for living in the city where the ruler had sworn to see him dead.
Secretly teaching Sebastian’s apostate son seemed more than a little foolhardy.
Garrett had never been one to see sense however.
As dangerous as it was, Carver understood what had drawn him to the boy in the
first place. A little more height, a slightly longer nose, a slightly narrower
chin and Grant would have been an exact match for Anders. According to his
brother the similarities didn’t end with his looks either. Their magical
strengths were similar. Grant had shown distaste for enclosed spaces and he’d
shown some of the compassion he knew Anders had in abundance.
Carver sighed and shook his head. He turned in the direction of Garrett’s home
and tried to put Grant Vael and Anders out of his mind. When he arrived he
entertained himself by going through his brother’s small library. He found an
old copy of one of Varric’s books and sat at the table flipping through it.
Carver looked up briefly when Garrett entered and looked back down at the book.
“Nosy dwarf always knew us best didn’t he,” Carver said flipping the book shut.
“Much to our usual dismay,” Garrett said fondly. “I still miss him sometimes.”
His smile turned to a smirk as he shut the door and sat opposite him at the
table. “Guess who’s interested in older men.”
“Do I have to?” said Carver with a small scowl.
“Grant watched you walk all the way out of the clinic today,” said Garrett his
smirk widening. “I wouldn’t call it leering, he’s entirely too polite for that,
but it was pretty close.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Carver asked suspiciously.
“Because it’s another similarity,” Garrett replied. “Anders’ first love was a
much older man. Grant hasn’t really shown that sort of interest in anyone
before today.”
“I’m flattered,” said Carver flatly. “And?”
“If he is I think you should go for it,” said Garrett leaning back in his
chair.
“You’re joking right?” Carver said in astonishment.
“No, I’m not joking,” he replied crossing his arms over his chest. “I told you
Sebastian has him on a short leash. Grant isn’t being allowed to find his own
path. His mother can only do so much.”
“And if he gets caught with someone twice his age how will that possibly help?”
Carver said incredulously.
“Don’t get caught,” said Garrett with a shrug. “He could use some confidence.
Besides, you could be the man he compares everyone else to.”
“That’s…I can’t believe this,” he sputtered. “You didn’t encourage him did
you?”
“Not yet,” said Garrett grinning. “I plan to however. I don’t think I’ll need
to encourage him much.”
“Garrett,” Carver moaned.
“Just think about it Carver,” Garrett said. “I think Grant has Anders’ soul.
There are too many similarities. Add the dreams he told me about yesterday…you
don’t need more regrets.”
Carver frowned. He’d never told anyone about his feelings for Anders. It wasn’t
entirely surprising that Garrett knew however. What he found difficult to
believe was Anders may have been reborn as Sebastian’s son. Garrett knew the
boy much better than he did and he already found their similarities surprising.
“The Maker sure has an odd sense of humor,” Carver sighed. “I’ll think about
it.”
Garrett smiled as he stood. “What do you want for supper?”
“Whatever,” he said. “I’ll get the tea on.”
He stood and tried to push the whole conversation away but all throughout that
night Grant’s grateful little smile kept invading his thoughts.
*
That night at dinner Grant was only half listening to conversation around him.
He was eager to read more in the journals. The conversation eclipsed his
eagerness however. Elle was only a little over a year older than he was. Not
only was their father less demanding of her she always seemed to get what she
wanted. An envoy was being sent to Tantervale for some reason and Elle
apparently wanted to go very badly.
Grant listened to her reason and bargain with no success. He stopped eating
altogether when the whining began. When Sebastian relented and agreed to let
her go, Grant could feel his magic bubbling up along with his temper. He
dropped his fork and pushed away from the table. Walking quickly he ignored the
worried calls of his mother and the almost angry one’s of his father. Taking a
circuitous route back to his room he performed a couple of calming tricks
Graham had taught him.
His magic was under control by the time he made it to his room but his temper
hadn’t calmed much. He paced the room for no more than a few minutes when both
of his parents came through the door. Grant saw his mother’s worried expression
and knew he was in trouble. Sebastian had that same stern frown that he was
growing to hate.
“Grant,” Sebastian began.
“It’s not fair,” he interrupted heatedly. “I can’t leave the bloody castle and
Elle gets to leave the whole blighted city!”
“The city is full of temptations that you do not know how to deal with,”
Sebastian said firmly.
“How can I learn locked up in here all the time?” said Grant accusatorily. “You
let both of them wander out whenever they liked at fifteen.”
“The people must know and trust them,” said Sebastian taking a few steps
closer.
“You’re just ashamed of me,” Grant hissed glaring at his father. “You hide me
away because I look like Anders.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly then his stern frown became an angry one.
“Yes. You do look like him. He disappeared years ago and no one knows where he
might be. You could easily be mistaken for him and taken away. I keep you here
to protect you.”
“I don’t believe you.” Grant clenched his hands into fists and tucked them in
his armpits hoping he could keep control of his magic while he was so furious.
“You never smile at me like you do Douglas and Elle. It’s always a frown. More
rules, more expectations. You’re never happy with me. You never ask how my
training is coming along.”
“Grant, please calm down,” Anne pleaded.
“I’m sorry Mother,” said Grant glaring at Sebastian. “He hates me and we both
know it.”
His shocked expression only fanned Grant’s fury. He shoved past both of them
and broke into a run, heading for one of the many servants entrances. Footsteps
and Anne’s concerned calls followed him for a while but he quickly outdistanced
her. Surprised elves who weren’t quick enough were knocked over in his haste to
be away. Grant ignored them and rushed past. Out in the garden he slowed
somewhat and headed for its borders.
The sun sat on the horizon by the time he cleared the hedge border. Grant
shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered out into the city wondering
where he should go. Sebastian would have the soldiers looking for him very soon
if they weren’t already. The only place he wanted to go he didn’t dare. Graham
would be visited before the night was out anyway if they didn’t find him
quickly.
With no real place to go Grant just kept putting one foot in front of the
other. He knew the soldiers would catch up with him eventually and worked to
get himself under control before he had to face his father again.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Maybe one of you guys can help me. If Sebastian is Prince, what
     titles would his family have if any?
Resignation had replaced most of his anger when the sun had sunk below the
horizon. Sebastian would only ever see a man he hated. Grant sighed and slumped
down against the edge of a marble fountain in one of the mostly deserted market
squares. He leaned back against it, sitting on the paving stones and stared
ahead into an empty stall.
There was little point in evading the soldiers. They would find him eventually
and take him back to the castle. He would most likely be confined to his room
for a week or two in punishment. If he was lucky he’d be able to continue his
training, likely with an armed escort to Graham’s clinic and back. His thoughts
turned to his mentor and their conversation before the lesson had truly begun
for the day. Running away was beginning to look like the only way he was ever
going to get away from that stern frown.
“What are you doing here?”
His thoughts scattered and he reached for his magic instinctively as he
scrambled to his feet. Suddenly he was cut off from his magic and he grunted in
shock. Carver Hawke stood a few feet to his left, his hands held palm out in
front of and just to the side of his shoulders.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Carver said frowning.
“What did you do?” Grant asked fearfully taking a step away.
“Silence. It’s temporary,” he replied almost gently. “I was a Templar. It’s a
gut reaction to being targeted.”
“How did you know,” said Grant taking a few steps towards the fountain.
Carver sat cautiously on the edge of the fountain. “I know…Graham…would teach
you to defend yourself. You should have been paying attention. It’s not exactly
safe at night.”
Grant frowned in embarrassment. “I was thinking.”
He patted the space next to him and gripped his knees. “Problems?”
After a moment’s deliberation Grant sat next to him and gripped the marble
edges. He glanced over, saw that Carver was still frowning and stared at the
cobblestones between his feet. “Yeah.”
“Look,” Carver said hesitantly after a moment. “I’m not usually a great
listener but…If you want to talk about it?”
“I got into a big argument with my father. I can’t leave the castle without
permission and my sister whined him into letting her go to Tantervale. I ran
away to calm down,” Grant said eventually. “Father…the soldiers will probably
find me soon.”
“Sounds like you don’t really want to go back,” Carver said.
“I don’t,” he muttered. “The only way he’ll be happy is to lock me up and throw
away the key.”
“I could take you to the stronghold in Antiva,” Carver offered. “There are
plenty of people to teach you there.”
“I…don’t really want to leave my mother,” said Grant. “Besides, he’d probably
just drag me back. They don’t know.”
“If he did know?”
“I always thought he’d throw me out but…I’m not so sure now,” said Grant
glancing at him. “I know why hides me.” Grant slouched and frowned sullenly.
“Father says he’s protecting me but I think he just see’s Anders when he looks
at me. I’ve tried you know? Nothing makes him smile at me the way he does
Douglas and Elle. It’s always a rotten frown. Elle pouts and she gets whatever
she wants but I pout and I have to quote the chant.”
Carver snorted and he was shaking his head when Grant looked at him. His hands
were clenched into fists and his frown had deepened considerably. He took a
deep breath and slowly his hands flattened out. “Has it worn off yet?” he asked
evenly.
“What?” Grant said in confusion. Carver smirked briefly and tapped his temple.
“Oh…umm…no. I still can’t…feel it.”
He nodded and silence fell. Grant watched him stare at the stars and wondered
what he was thinking. Rather than awkward it felt comfortable. The peace was
broken by clanking armor after only a few minutes. Three soldiers entered the
square and shouted as they ran towards the fountain. Grant became alarmed when
they drew weapons as they ran. Grant stood moments after Carver did and stepped
in front of him.
“Come away from him my Lord,” ordered the lead soldier as they cautiously
approached.
“Put those away first,” Grant said.
“It’s all right,” Carver said pushing him gently to one side. “I’ll go
peacefully as long as I get to talk to Sebastian.”
“Byron, get his sword,” said the same soldier.
Grant watched Carver turn slightly with his hands held up and out again. There
was a sword and a spear leveled on him and the third sheathed his sword,
pulling Grant further away from Carver and behind the other two before taking
Carver’s great sword. The soldier who’d spoken put his sword away while the
spear carrier moved around behind Carver. Grant was turned and marched through
the city back to the castle.
He looked over his shoulder and saw Carver keeping pace behind with the other
two soldiers on either side of him. The sounds of shouting and armor grew the
closer they got to the castle. When the gates were in view others ran up to
them and Grant was hustled inside. He lost track of Carver in the confusion and
the strong grip on his arm prevented him from looking. Sebastian was staring up
at the statue of Andraste in their private Chantry. As soon as Grant was
brought in he turned. Anne hurried up to him and folded him into an embrace
that he gladly returned.
“Thank the Maker you’re safe,” she said softly.
“Mother,” Grant said pulling away slightly. “There was a man with me. The
soldiers brought him in too. Where have they taken him?”
“Are you all right?” Anne said worriedly holding him at arm’s length.
“You shouldn’t have run off,” Sebastian said sternly coming up to them.
“I’m fine,” said Grant in frustration. “What have they done with Carver? He
didn’t do anything!”
“Prince Sebastian, I’m sorry but…” a soldier said behind them.
“You’re a right bastard,” Carver interrupted angrily.
Grant turned to see Carver wrenching his arm out of a soldiers’ grasp and
striding for them, leaving three of them in his wake. He turned back to his
father and found astonished recognition.
“Carver Hawke?” Sebastian asked stepping around them and holding out a hand to
stop the soldiers. “What were you doing with my son?”
“Talking,” he spat back. Carver stopped with mere inches between him and
Sebastian and poked his shoulder. “Have you forgotten what it feels like to be
the odd one out?”
“What are you talking about?” Sebastian said irritably batting away his hand.
“I’m talking about treating him like a prisoner,” Carver said jerking a thumb
at Grant. “By your own admission your parents left you out in the cold. Did you
forget what it was like knowing they didn’t want you? Or can you not see past
his face?”
Anne backed slowly into the pew they stood next to, pulling Grant with. He
backed away with her, surprised at the intensity of Carver’s anger. Sebastian’s
expression had gone cold.
“I have not forgotten,” said Sebastian evenly meeting his gaze. “Would you have
me lose my son to others who will refuse to see past his resemblance to that
monster?”
“How many actually know what Anders’ looked like?” retorted Carver. “No one
cared about him until he destroyed the Chantry. You don’t get portraits done as
an apostate either.”
“I wasn’t even sure until today,” Grant said angrily. “And don’t call him that!
He was a healer!”
“That doesn’t excuse the hundreds of deaths he caused that night,” Sebastian
said turning to him.
“He knew that you stubborn ass,” Carver interjected. “Garrett told me that he
wanted to die for it.”
“Then perhaps Hawke should have seen justice done,” Sebastian said angrily.
“Instead of…”
“Enough!” Anne yelled suddenly. Silence descended immediately. “I am taking
Grant to his room. Thank you for watching over my son Serah Hawke. The soldiers
will see you out unharmed.” Carver nodded slightly, glared at Sebastian then
turned and stalked away.
“Anne,” Sebastian began.
“We will discuss this later,” she interrupted.
Her tone was rather cold and Grant had a hard time keeping the secret glee he
felt out of his expression. His parents didn’t often fight in his presence but
the few he’d witnessed had been over him. Sebastian also nodded slightly and
turned back to the statue of Andraste. Grant was guided out of the Chantry by a
gentle grip on his shoulder.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Sebastian sighed as he stood. He gazed at the statue for a few minutes then sat
on the pew behind him. With his elbows upright on his knees he laced his
fingers together and leaned forward until his thumbs were resting against his
forehead. The revelations of this night had been terrible.
Carver’s surprising presence explained some of Grant’s sudden knowledge of
Anders but not all of it. He hadn’t specifically kept that knowledge from his
son but he’d never told him of his uncanny resemblance to the abomination. He
wondered how Grant had met Carver. The only possibilities were his mentor or
his trip to the market the previous day. That Grant had confided in a perfect
stranger was disturbing.
He sat back when he heard the rustle of skirts coming near. His hands were now
folded in his lap and he looked up at Anne when she stood in front of him. She
was frowning with her arms crossed under her bosom.
“That man has a point,” said Anne her voice still a little cold.
“He does,” Sebastian said calmly. “There are people who know however. One
fanatic Anne. Then our son is lost.”
“You can’t keep him here forever.”
“No,” he sighed. “He has already found the best routes out and has likely snuck
out a few times.” Anne nodded silently and Sebastian sighed again. “It was
never my intention to…single him out.”
“You have,” Anne said sitting beside him. “Grant has tried so hard to please
you. Why are you so hard on him?”
“My own misspent youth,” said Sebastian softly. “He showed no talent with
blades and no interest in the bow. I had hoped he would embrace a quiet life of
reflection. If Elthina had lived…”
“I know she meant a great deal to you,” said Anne placing a hand over his. “Are
you sure Grant’s resemblance to her killer hasn’t swayed you?”
“Perhaps it has,” Sebastian said threading their fingers together. “I have
prayed for guidance.”
“Are you ashamed of him?” asked Anne after a few moments.
“No,” Sebastian said softly. “I had no idea…it shames me that my son believes I
hate him.”
“Then you must show him you don’t,” said Anne firmly. “Letting him move freely
through the city would be a good start.”
Sebastian shook his head and squeezed her hand to stall her angry retort. “I
see the necessity but I worry for his safety.”
“I worry as well Sebastian,” Anne said quietly. “But you must let him have some
freedom.”
“Let us retire,” Sebastian said standing. “Perhaps a solution will become
clear.”
*
“You did what!?!” Garrett said in astonishment.
“You heard me,” Carver grumbled.
“Maker’s Breath Carver,” he moaned leaning back in his chair. “Not the
brightest thing to do but I sort of wish I’d been there.”
“What was I supposed to do?” said Carver pacing the length of his small house.
“That’s not a short leash. Grant’s a prisoner.”
“I don’t know honestly,” Garrett sighed. “I can’t actually do much to help him.
I can’t even get Sebastian to let him come to the clinic more often. This isn’t
the first time he’s run off after a row. Normally Grant comes straight here.”
“He was miserable when I came across him,” Carver said stopping in front of the
cold fireplace.
“Hopefully you’ve made an impression on both of them.” Garrett stood and
stretched. “Grant’s knight in shining armor and Sebastian’s bane.”
“Grant looked shocked more than anything,” said Carver. He turned away from the
fireplace and followed his brother into the bedroom. “Sebastian just got
angry.”
“Who has enough courage to get in Sebastian’s face like that,” Garrett said.
“I’d love to tell him what I actually think but I can’t afford to give him any
clues.”
“Why hasn’t Sebastian recognized you?” Carver sat on his pallet spread out on
the floor and looked up at Garrett sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Before I moved here the last time we saw each other was the last night in
Kirkwall.” Garrett rubbed the scar that ran along the left side of his jaw.
“I’m sure this helps.”
“You never did tell me how you got that.”
“Stepped on a trap,” Garrett said with a shrug. “It turned me into a
pincushion. I had just enough potions to keep me alive. Good night Carver.”
Garrett blew out the candle and plunged the room into darkness. “Good night
brother,” he said quietly.
Carver lay down and laced his fingers together under his head. In hindsight
calling the ruler of the city a bastard probably hadn’t been the smartest thing
he’d ever done. He knew that if Sebastian’s soldiers hadn’t been directly
behind him he probably would have thrown a punch instead of poking his
shoulder. The obvious favoritism was still infuriating especially from someone
who knew what it was like to not be the favorite.
He suppressed a snort and stared up at the ceiling. Sleep was long in coming.
*
After a long night of broken sleep Sebastian wasn’t any closer to figuring out
how to give Grant the freedom he desired while still being relatively assured
of his safety. Anne was still rather unhappy with him but he wouldn’t
compromise Grant’s life. During breakfast Elle was excited and chattered
happily. He discussed the day’s business with Douglas in between. Down the
table Grant was silent as usual but extremely sullen. Sebastian had followed
him to his room at a distance afterwards but left without knocking on the door.
Unable to focus on missives and requests he’d taken his bow to the target
range. There was little need to use it now a days but he’d kept practicing all
the years between. It was easy to clear his mind as he drew the string and
sighted down the arrow. The string snapped back as he let go and the arrow flew
at the target. Sebastian drew another one and lost himself to the rhythm. He
walked forward after ten arrows, found them clustered around the middle circle.
For a half an hour he repeated the process. Sebastian took his bow and arrows
inside, his mind clear, and went directly to the Chantry. He knelt in front of
the statue, set his bow in front of him, clasped his hands together and prayed.
“Of course,” he said quietly a while later.
Sebastian grabbed his bow and hurried up to Grant’s room. He knocked on the
door and waited a few moments before opening it. Grant sat on his bed, a thin
book open in his lap. He hunched over a little and snapped it shut when he saw
Sebastian in the doorway.
“Father,” said Grant gloomily.
“I have been…unfair,” Sebastian said stepping inside and closing the door.
“Anne wishes me to allow you access to the city. I will consent on one
condition.”
“Really?” he said in shock. His expression became guarded and he frowned.
“What’s the condition?”
“A bodyguard,” said Sebastian calmly. “One of the guards. Someone completely
trustworthy who will protect you.”
Grant’s frown deepened and he set the book on the bed. He stood and paced back
and forth across the room for a few minutes. Sebastian waited patiently until
Grant stopped in front of him. “Can I have a choice about who the bodyguard
is?”
“Did you have someone in mind?” Sebastian asked frowning.
“Carver Hawke,” Grant said his shoulders slumping in disappointment.
“Where did you meet Carver?”
“He’s Graham’s…friend. I met him at the clinic.”
Sebastian wondered at the pause but pushed it from the front of his mind. Even
though he hadn’t been around Hawke’s younger brother much he knew him to be
skilled. He was very loyal and straight forward. Sebastian nodded slowly and
watched Grant’s expression turn hopeful.
“If he agrees,” Sebastian said firmly. “Let us see if Carver is at Graham’s
clinic.”
Grant smiled as Sebastian turned to the door. He hoped he wouldn’t regret this
decision.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Carver held down the shoulders of a young man half his age. There was a stick
held tightly between his teeth. The man was washed out and sweating from pain,
his two friends holding down the leg that wasn’t obviously broken. Garrett gave
no warning as he wrenched the leg straight. He screamed and struggled a moment
before his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Get the stick and turn his head to the side,” Garrett ordered absently. “You
two can let go as well.”
Silently Carver plucked the stick from his mouth and gently turned his head to
the side. He took a few steps away, watching as his brother wrapped linen along
with two metal rods around his leg. The bell Garrett had hung over the door
tinkled and Carver looked over. Sebastian stepped through and his gaze landed
on Carver. Grant closed the door and stepped around him.
“Have a seat please,” Garrett said absently. “I’ll be with you shortly.”
The two men had turned as well and they bowed. Grant stood still for a moment,
his gaze looking between Carver and Garrett. He glanced at Sebastian, who
hadn’t looked away from Carver, and went to Garrett.
“That’s quite all right Graham,” Sebastian said pleasantly.
“Prince Vael,” Garrett said sounding mildly surprised. He glanced at Grant, who
smiled briefly. Garrett handed the linen to him and brushed his hands against
his shirt. “What brings you here?”
“I’d like to speak with Carver,” said Sebastian.
“Come to argue some more?” Carver asked frowning.
“I’ve come to offer you employment,” Sebastian said calmly.
“Employ…what?”
“Last night’s incident has brought a few things to my attention,” Sebastian
said stepping forward. “My son wants more freedom but I fear for his safety.
Grant would like you to be his personal bodyguard.”
Carver’s gaze snapped to Grant. He was bent over the patient, holding his leg
at the knee and ankle. His face was away from him but he could see Garrett’s
clearly. A large grin dominated as he carefully wrapped the linen.
“Can we discuss this outside?” he asked scowling at his brother.
“Certainly,” Sebastian said turning.
He followed Sebastian to the door and looked back before stepping through.
Garrett was still grinning and nodded slightly. Grant had turned slightly as
well. His expression was a mix of hope, worry and excitement. Carver followed
Sebastian out the door and found himself in the middle of a ring of soldiers.
Sebastian stood at the center, his hands at his side, his expression stern.
Carver stopped in front of him and folded his arms across his chest.
“How do you know Graham Harrison?” Sebastian asked.
“Old friend from Lothering,” Carver replied. “Isn’t Grant a little old to need
a sitter?”
“Grant doesn’t need a nanny. He needs a trained warrior who can protect him
from undesirable individuals. You would not have been my first choice, but you
are whom he wishes.”
“You didn’t care what he wanted before.”
“I do care,” Sebastian said frowning as his brows pulled down. “I have
unintentionally singled him out. I will not endanger my son however. This is a
satisfactory compromise. I know you to be skilled. You were loyal and despite
your abrasive attitude you cared deeply for your family and those you consider
friends.”
“All right,” said Carver after a moment of thought. “I’ll do it. When do I
start and what’s the pay?”
“Pay can be discussed later, in private,” Sebastian said. “I would like you to
start now. I’ll have a room prepared in the castle for you close to Grant’s. I
will speak with Anne and we can go through details this evening.”
“Fair enough,” Carver said evenly.
He turned and walked back into Garrett’s clinic. They were finished wrapping
the man’s leg and Grant stood to one side while Garrett tried to coax him
awake. Sebastian followed him in and Carver watched closely as he spoke softly
in Grant’s ear. The boy smiled broadly and nodded. Sebastian gripped his
shoulder briefly, nodded at Carver and left.
“Thank you!” Grant said excitedly as he hurried up to Carver. “Thank you so
much.”
“Why me?” Carver asked. “You barely know me.”
“No one but Mother has ever stood up for me before,” he replied. “You know
Graham, Father knows you and…umm…”
Spots of color bloomed on his cheeks and he gazed at the floor. Garrett
chuckled and Carver glared at the back of his head.
“Anyway,” Grant said turning back to Garrett. “Graham, would you mind if I came
by a little more often now that I can?”
“Give me a moment Grant,” Garrett said. “Let me get this fellow on his way and
we can discuss a few things.”
Carver followed Grant to the back of the room and sat at the edge of the desk.
Grant paced for a moment then sat next to him, smiling nervously.
“So,” he said softly. “Did Father say anything?”
“About what?” Carver said also softly.
“Last night.”
“He’s realized that he’s made you a prisoner. I guess he must be really worried
about someone offing you because you look like Anders if he’s willing to let me
follow you around.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Grant in a small voice.
“How could you?” said Carver. “You had no idea what he looked like until you
started dreaming of him did you.”
“I didn’t know.” Grant frowned a little and looked up at him. “How did you know
about the dreams?”
“Ga…err…Graham told me.”
Grant’s frown turned into a tiny smile. “Is he really your brother?”
“Figure that out from my journals?” Garrett asked cheerfully.
Carver frowned irritably and Grant jumped at his sudden appearance. Neither of
them had heard the bell over the door.
“No,” Grant said sheepishly. “I listened at the window.”
“Sneaky,” said Garrett grinning. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell
anyone.”
“I won’t,” Grant said solemnly.
“Now, down to business,” Garrett said briskly. “I’d like you to come here as
often as you can since Carver’s your new shadow. I need to spend as much time
as possible training you. You still need to learn better control. That’s why
you ran off last night isn’t it.”
“Partly,” Grant replied. “I was just so mad…I still think he hates me.”
“Not that I really want to defend him,” Garrett said wryly. “But isn’t hate a
little strong?”
“How many years has he held a grudge against you brother?” Carver said. “He
stopped looking when Starkhaven demanded his attention.”
“Point taken,” said Garrett. “So, are you going to stick around today or do you
want to enjoy your freedom for a bit?”
“I’d like to walk through the city,” Grant said immediately. His eager
expression faded a bit and he looked at Carver. “Is that all right?”
“You’re the boss,” Carver said with a shrug. “My job is to follow you around
and look intimidating so everyone else doesn’t get ideas. Just make sure we
stop at his house so I can get my stuff before we go back to the castle.”
“You’re going to be staying at the castle?” Grant said his eyes wide in shock.
“Sebastian said he’d have a room for me close to yours. Details handed out
later.”
His eager smile returned and Grant stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow Graham. As
early as I can get here.”
“All right,” Garrett said. He turned away from Grant as Carver stood. Garrett
grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Carver scowled and brushed past him, following his excited charge to the door.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     Not real happy with this chapter but posting anyway.
“Lunch first,” Grant said eagerly when the door of clinic shut behind them.
“Father said I had to be back for supper. How much of the city have you
actually seen?”
“I’ve been here a couple times,” Carver said. “I usually stick to the poorer
areas though.”
“Starkhaven is beautiful,” he said starting off down the street. “The estates,
the fountains, statues, the castle gardens are quiet lovely.”
Carver followed a few steps behind, listening to his excited chatter. He
watched the people around them as they moved through the streets, Grant pausing
every now and then when someone actually acknowledged him. He was very
different from the sullen young man he’d come across the night before. It
didn’t surprise him how happy this little bit of freedom had made him. What
surprised him was Grant’s acceptance of him.
Even if he did have a crush, which seemed more than likely at this point,
having anyone follow him around should have been annoying at the very least.
Anders certainly would have made a huge fuss over it. Grant didn’t seem to be
bothered at all. Carver wondered if he had truly made the difference.
“Here,” Grant said holding out a meat pie.
“Of all the fancy choices you pick a stand that sells meat pies?” Carver said
taking the offered food. “You can find these on any street corner in any city.”
“I’ve never had one,” he replied taking a big bite of the one he still held. He
watched Grant chew and swallow his eyes alight and humming contentedly. “It’s
good.”
Carver couldn’t hold in a small smile and followed him to a nearby bench. Grant
sat and took another bite, all of his attention on the simple meal he’d chosen.
He sat next to him, watched the people passing by in front, listened for
anything suspicious behind and ate. The silence between them was companionable
as Grant devoured his meal. Carver was only half finished when Grant licked his
fingers and brushed crumbs off of his tunic.
“That was delicious,” Grant sighed happily. “I’m still sort of hungry though.”
“You should try those apple fritters,” Carver said pointing out the nearby
stand. “Probably never had those either. A simple desert but very tasty.”
“Do you want one?” said Grant as he stood.
“Nah, this will be fine.”
Carver watched closely as he walked to the nearby stand. Grant smiled and
pointed, coin changed hands and he walked slowly back to the bench. The plaza
they were in wasn’t completely crowded but he noticed how people moved out of
his way. Even though few had acknowledged his status as son of the reigning
Prince, the people of the city knew who he was.
He made a mental note of it, wondering if it would make his job easier or a
little more difficult. Grant was half finished by the time he got back to the
bench. Carver noticed that Grant sat much closer than he had. He was careful
not to react even though the proximity made him a little uncomfortable. Garrett
might be excited about Grant’s crush but he was completely unsure.
The resemblance was remarkable as well as the similarities in their
personalities. He couldn’t deny the desire he felt but the sheer age difference
was daunting. Now that he was employed by Sebastian any sort of sexual
relationship with Grant might just get him executed. For now he would try to
remain carefully neutral.
They finished eating around the same time and Grant led him on a tour of
Starkhaven. He had to admit that the city was quite beautiful. Most of the
streets were made of granite and marble fountains and statues were scattered
everywhere. The estates were large and sprawling, most with at least a large
flower garden but more often with flowers, carefully manicured hedges and
according to Grant paths the led through with benches interspersed.
While Grant pointed out landmarks and spoke at length about his city Carver
listened politely and watched everyone around him. They were mostly ignored by
citizens and soldiers alike. The soldier’s gazes usually stopped for a few
seconds on Grant and lingered on him for a few more before moving on. Sebastian
had to have spread the word quickly about his status as bodyguard and Grant’s
new freedom. He couldn’t help but wonder what the soldiers would do if he
weren’t present.
When they had circled around to the plaza where they’d begun the afternoon was
mostly gone. Grant sat on a bench and sighed as he stretched out his long legs.
“My feet are a bit sore,” he said rather cheerfully. “Not sure I’ve ever walked
so much in one afternoon.”
“I’ve walked all over Thedas,” Carver said sitting next to him. “If you weren’t
allowed out how do you know you’re way around so well?”
“I’ve been sneaking out for years,” said Grant sheepishly. “Ever since I was
twelve and tried to run away.”
“You tried to run away?”
“Yeah. That’s when Graham found me.”
“Ah, a late bloomer.”
“That’s what Graham said. After he cornered me in an alley. I think I
understand the look on his face a little better now.”
“Ever notice anyone else looked shocked when they met you?”
“None that I recall,” Grant replied after a moment of thought. “Just you.
That’s why I listened at the window.”
“Thought maybe I was seeing things for a moment,” Carver said glancing at him
while he watched the plaza. “I know he’s dead. I built the pyre and scattered
his ashes myself.”
“I know how he died,” Grant said softly staring down at his lap. “It’s one of
the dreams I keep having. I’m…he…is running through a field towards a forest. I
stumble when I get hit by an arrow. I can’t reach it, can’t heal it, so I
crawl…but I can’t go on. There’s a voice…calling his name…but I always wake
before I can see the person or place the voice.”
“You recognize the voice then?” Carver asked cautiously.
“I do,” said Grant looking up at him. “These dreams…they’re very vivid. During
the dream I know exactly what he’s feeling, what he’s doing. When I wake
though…I remember the dream but details fade. The voice I remember from the
dream…he knows who’s behind him. I’m sure of that. I recognize the voice but…I
can’t place it. I’m always panicked when I wake from this one.”
Carver frowned in thought. He’d never known exactly how Anders had died but he
always suspected Sebastian had caught up to him. If Grant really had dreamed of
Anders’ final moments Carver thought he had his confirmation. Sebastian had
found Anders, killed him and left him for the crows.
“Were you close?” Grant asked sort of timidly.
“Pardon?”
“You…looked really mad all of a sudden. Were you and Anders close?”
“Not really. I…couldn’t talk to him without starting an argument. He and my
brother were best of friends though.”
“You seemed so defensive the other day.”
“Well,” Carver said hesitantly. He looked over and found Grant’s gaze intent
but innocently curious. “I had…a thing…for him.”
“You liked him?”
“Yeah…yeah I did. He didn’t know. Probably hated me more than anything.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell him?”
“I grew up with three mages. My father spent most of my childhood training my
brother and my sister. I didn’t see him that often and I felt left out. All
Anders ever talked about was the mage’s plight. I’d had enough of that long
before I met him. He never seemed too interested either.”
“I don’t think he hated you,” Grant said softly after a moment. “I’ve had a few
dreams with you in them. The feeling I remember is more frustration than
anything else.”
“Doesn’t matter much now,” Carver sighed. “Come on. Let’s get my things.”
“All right,” said Grant.
They stood and Grant led the way like he had all afternoon. Carver stayed close
and tried to put Anders out of his mind again.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Grant lay on his bed late one night two weeks later. His nightshirt was rucked
up to his armpits, his small clothes still wrapped around one ankle and the
blankets had been pushed down to the end of the bed. He lay on his side, his
back arched forwards and his knees were bent slightly. With his eyes squeezed
shut, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, one hand was wrapped around his
stiff cock and two fingers from his other hand shuttled quickly in and out of
his arse.
It hadn’t taken too long to figure out a use for the odd grease spell Graham
had taught him the day after Carver became his bodyguard. Grant had asked about
the uses for this spell but Graham had only smirked and glanced at Carver
leaning against a nearby tree aiming an incredible scowl at his brother. After
a rather racy dream where Anders had been sleeping with a dark-haired rogue
Grant realized why Graham had taught him the grease spell. He’d put it to use
that very night and periodically since.
His thoughts at the moment were centered on Carver, imagining him in place of
the rogue from his dream. He worried his lip between his teeth to keep quiet,
concentrated on the steady slide of his fingers and jerked erratically at his
cock. Pleasure built quickly and released suddenly. Grant lay there panting for
a moment, letting his fingers slide out one final time. He curled up the other
direction, around the sticky mess on his sheets.
He always felt slightly guilty for imagining Carver behind him. Grant wasn’t at
all sure Carver wanted that but he wanted it very badly. Neither of his parents
would approve. Sebastian probably wouldn’t approve of this activity never mind
actual sex with an older man. Whether it was the fact that Carver was a man or
that he was so much older than Grant that his father wouldn’t like he didn’t
really know. He was inclined not to care much either.
When his breathing had evened out Grant pulled his small clothes off and
cleaned as much of his spend from the sheets as he could. He then cleaned his
hands and made a token effort at cleaning his arse. The small clothes went over
the side and he worked his nightshirt back down. The servants wouldn’t mention
stained sheets and so far none of them had mentioned the new stains on his
small clothes.
Grant was glad that they hadn’t. He’d been masturbating regularly for a couple
of years but he was a little worried of what he’d be accused of if his parents
knew of the grease stains. Like most everything else Sebastian had higher
expectations of him and stricter rules concerning sex. It had never been said
outright but Grant knew he was expected to remain pure. Before he’d met Carver
the trouble he’d cause for a potential partner and himself hadn’t been worth
it.
Carver’s age would likely cause more trouble but Grant was quickly beginning to
not care. He really wanted to be impaled on the older man’s cock. His feelings
for Carver had become quite muddled over the last two weeks but the desire he
felt to be writhing on his lap or pinned to the bed being pounded by the
warrior were clear as glass.
As much as he wanted it Grant did his best to curb the naughty thoughts
anywhere someone else could see. If his father suspected that he was seriously
lusting after his bodyguard Carver would likely be banished or worse. When he
was alone however those naughty thoughts ran rampant. Grant’s problem was he
didn’t know how to ask for sex without being impolite or very crude. He wasn’t
even sure how to ascertain if Carver was even interested.
He sighed and pulled the blankets up around him. Maybe he could ask Graham
about it when he returned the second set of journals tomorrow. They would be
walking down the Minanter a ways on an herb gathering trip that would probably
be turned into magic lessons if no one else was around. Grant fell asleep
wondering how he could ask Graham a few things without being specific about who
he was interested in.
There was only one room between Grant and Carver. Grant usually didn’t see him
until after breakfast however. He normally waited just outside the dining room.
His clothes hadn’t changed much except for a leather jerkin with Starhaven’s
crest on the back. Because he knew they’d be out of the city, Grant had chosen
a plain pair of trousers and a shirt that wouldn’t get caught on every branch
and twig they passed. They weren’t skin tight but offered a better view of
certain body parts than his normal clothing did.
Grant had worn the outfit before but he hadn’t noticed the way Carver’s eyes
seemed to linger around his midsection before meeting his eyes. He smiled and
rubbed his thighs, watching closely as Carver’s gaze drifted down again. Grant
deliberately turned and glanced back over his shoulder before starting off down
the hall. His gaze had been where Grant had hoped it would be.
“I have to get the books Graham lent me,” Grant said.
Carver followed him down the hall quietly. Grant didn’t hurry but he didn’t
waste time either. Since they were still in the castle he didn’t dare hope
Carver was still looking at his arse, even though going up the stairs would
have given him a nice view. He did allow himself to hope that Carver was
interested however. He focused on his task, hoping to keep his desire from
becoming visible. Carver stopped in the doorway as usual.
“You look nice today,” Carver said casually leaning against the doorjamb.
“Thank you,” Grant said glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t like my normal
shirts?”
“Not really,” Carver replied. “Too frilly and puffy.”
“I never really cared,” said Grant shrugging as he pulled open a drawer on his
desk. “As son of the Prince I guess I’m expected to keep up with the fashions
but all of that’s done for me. I had to request clothes that are appropriate
for the wilderness.”
“A mile out of the city isn’t wilderness,” Carver snorted.
“It is to me.” Grant smiled and straightened. He crossed the distance holding
the thin volumes in one hand. Grant stopped with barely a hand span between
them and continued quietly, looking slightly upwards to see his face. “If you
hadn’t agreed I wouldn’t be going out there at all. I’d be stuck in the
basement of the clinic hoping the soldier my father chose wouldn’t notice
anything odd.”
“Good point,” said Carver absently.
The small frown he normally wore had disappeared. His lips were pressed into a
tight line, his gaze intense. A finger skated briefly across Grant’s cheekbone
and partially down his jaw. Grant’s stomach jumped up a few inches in
anticipation.
“Don’t get caught Carver,” he muttered backing away suddenly. His frown was
back as he gestured down the hallway. “Lead on.”
Grant took a deep breath and nodded. He started off down the corridor trying to
calm the excited flutter in his gut. He was unsure of what exactly Carver had
been about to do. One thing he was now positive of though was that Carver was
interested.
The guards at the gates noted their exit but did nothing to stop them. Grant
led the way to Graham’s house, his excitement changing tracks slightly. Any
trip into the city was still reason enough but going beyond the city’s borders
was more than enough. In the last two weeks Graham had wrestled permission to
take him out of Starkhaven. Grant wasn’t sure how he’d accomplished it but
suspected that it was a combined effort from Graham, Carver and his mother.
Carver’s silence didn’t bother him. The warrior was often quiet in the castle
and the city immediately surrounding the castle. His expression didn’t often
change from serious or that small frown but Grant had grown used to that as
well. Grant seemed to be the only person he actually smiled at.
Graham was waiting for them outside his little hut when they arrived. He
stepped inside briefly to put the journals away and they started off down the
river. Grant focused on his instruction as they walked, Carver a comforting
presence behind. The herb discussion lasted even after Graham had taken them
down a side path. He pointed out plants and explained what they were used for,
showed him the best way to harvest and store them.
When the morning was half gone Graham looked around the clearing they stood in.
Trees were scattered sparsely to his left and he could hear the river some
distance away to his right. The path they had been traveling along was small
and deserted. Graham clapped his hands together and turned to them.
“This looks like a good spot,” he said cheerfully.
“I’ll just go over there,” Carver said brushing past them.
Grant watched him cross the clearing until Graham snapped his fingers in front
of his face.
“Focus lad,” Graham said seriously. “If you’re going to be a good mage you
can’t let anything distract you. Letting your attention wander can cause spells
to go horribly awry.”
“Sorry,” Grant said sheepishly.
“Perfectly all right,” said Graham smiling. “Let’s get started. Ice balls
today. A little too much grass for fire.”
For the next two hours Grant conjured ice balls of various sizes. He focused on
Graham and feeding the spell enough mana to make it the size he’d been ordered
to create. The ground around them had become slushy with melting ice by the
time lunch had been declared. Grant stepped carefully through the mushy
substance, glad for a break.
“Found a use for that grease spell yet?” Graham asked with a smirk.
“Umm…yes…actually,” Grant said blushing furiously. “I have.”
“I have sandwiches in my pack if you’d like to go gather up Carver we’ll eat by
the river,” Graham said. “I’ll be just down there.”
Grant nodded as he pointed and turned in the direction Carver had gone. He took
a few steps forward and stopped. Carver had taken off his shirt and the leather
jerkin. He was at the other edge of the clearing, swinging his large sword
around in what appeared to be a perfect, well-practiced dance. Grant watched
for a moment, entranced.
“Well go on,” Graham said sounding very amused from behind him. “Carver won’t
bite. Well, he might if you asked nicely.”
“Graham,” Grant hissed feeling his cheeks heat again as he turned.
He smirked and made a little shooing gesture with his free hand. “Nothing
ventured nothing gained lad,” Graham said. “I’ll just be over here, out of ear
shot.”
Grant took a deep breath and turned back to Carver.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter took me by surprise. I didn't expect Carver to be quite
     so eager but...I guess he is.
Grant stopped well short of his arcing blade. Carver was intent as he moved and
swung. He just watched for a moment, enjoying the smooth motions and the way
his muscles flexed and bunched. Grant was beginning to understand why Elle was
a little obsessed with the soldiers. She could often be found on the balcony
overlooking the practice yard.
Carver straightened suddenly and turned to him, sword point stuck in the
ground. “Yeah?”
“Oh…uhh…lunch,” Grant said smiling nervously. He tugged on the bottom of his
shirt, stepping forward. “Were you…practicing?”
“Yes,” Carver replied arming sweat off of his forehead. “It’s the best way to
stay sharp. Where’s Garrett?”
“Down by the river,” said Grant taking a few more steps closer. The mat of hair
on his chest was broken by scars. He circled curiously, finding more on his
sides and back. They were faded, most little more than thin lines. “So many
scars.”
“That happens when you live on the road,” Carver said watching him. “I could
wear armor I suppose but…”
“Don’t do that,” Grant blurted out quickly. “Then I couldn’t see…” His cheeks
were burning again as he pressed his lips together.
Carver gave him one of those tiny smiles and shrugged. “Never much liked it
anyway.”
“So,” Grant said turning to retrieve his shirt and the jerkin from the branch
he’d draped them over. “Can you dance?”
“No,” said Carver in confusion. “I’m not expected to, am I?”
“Well no,” said Grant turning back and holding out the clothing. “When you were
practicing, it looked sort of like a dance.”
“Ah.” Carver took the clothes and balanced the flat of his blade on his
shoulder. “Without a sword in my hand I’ve got two left feet. Learning the
forms was difficult enough since I had to watch the Lothering Templars. I’ve
practiced them for years now though.”
“It was interesting to watch. Beautiful…”
“Should have seen me twenty years ago. Strong…good reflexes. I’ve lost some
over the years.”
“Experience is good though…right?”
“It can keep you alive against a stronger opponent,” Carver said giving him a
funny look.
Grant did his best not to fidget under his intense searching gaze. “What?” he
finally asked. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Are you really a virgin?” Carver asked quietly, his tone even and serious.
“Do…fingers count?” Grant replied wishing that it wasn’t quite so easy to see
him blushing.
“That’s a yes,” Carver sighed looking at the ground. “Why me?”
“Lots of reasons,” said Grant softly. “You stood up for me. You actually talk
to me. I…don’t have to hide half of myself. I’m tired of not getting things
everyone else does. Neither Douglas nor Elle are virgins. I think that’s why
Elle wanted to go to Tantervale so badly. The soldier she’s been…seeing…was
assigned to the envoy.”
“Maker,” growled Carver in annoyance. “The more I learn the more he pisses me
off. Your sister isn’t that much older than you are.”
“Little less than a year and half,” Grant said with a shrug. He flopped onto
the ground and began plucking at the grass sullenly. “Does this mean you’re
not…interested?”
“Where’d you get that idea?” Carver said irritably.
When Grant looked up Carver was kneeling in front of him. His sword was stuck
in the ground beside him, his clothes still clutched in one hand. Carver was
frowning, looming over him. Instead of being intimidated like he probably
should have been, he could feel his trousers becoming uncomfortable instead.
Grant swallowed hard and opened his mouth but nothing came out.
His face softened a tad and he reached out with his free hand, thumb stroking
along his cheek. “Do you know how odd it is to see this face so off balance?”
Grant shook his head a tiny bit, his voice still absent.
“He wasn’t embarrassed so easily.”
Carver moved his hand to the back of Grant’s head and leaned forward. He
pressed their lips together, brief and chaste. The warrior was gone before
Grant could react.
“You make me feel like a perverted old man but…” Carver said hesitantly
standing a few feet away. “There’s nothing I want more than to give you exactly
what you want.”
“There’s no one around now,” said Grant rising up on his knees.
“My brother is,” said Carver grimacing. “I really don’t need his critiquing on
top of the teasing.”
“Please,” Grant begged rising to his feet. “He’s going to tease us anyway. I’m
so hard…”
“Turn around,” Carver said after a brief look over his shoulder.
Grant did as he was told, a little confused and very excited. Moments later he
felt Carver against him. He pushed his bottom against the warrior behind him
and bit his lip at the feel of his stiff member.
“Maker your eager,” he said wrapping an arm around Grant’s chest and the other
around his waist. “Relax Grant. I’m not doing that out here where Garrett might
be watching.”
“What are you doing then?” said Grant craning his neck to look behind him.
“I’m just going to tug you off.”
“Carver, please,” Grant pouted.
“Believe me,” he said with a small smile. “There’s no rush. We’ll have to be
careful but your first time shouldn’t be a quickie in the middle of nowhere.”
Grant nodded, disappointed but still excited. He tried to relax, turning his
head to rest on the larger man’s shoulder. The arm around his chest didn’t move
but after a moment the arm around his waist did. The laces on his trousers were
pulled loose and Grant felt his hand sliding between his abdomen and his small
clothes. Grant squeezed his eyes shut and spread his legs a little as Carver
palmed him briefly then pushed his clothing down a little.
“Ah shit,” Carver muttered. “Grant would you unlace my trousers. Thought I
could just ignore it. Don’t get your hopes up though. I’ve been staring at your
ass all morning.”
He grinned and reached behind him after Carver had moved his arm up around his
shoulders. Grant pulled awkwardly at the laces while his trousers and small
clothes were pushed further down. Carver backed away for a moment, both of his
hands disappearing. Grant felt his shirt pulled up and then Carver was back,
skin to skin from his arse to his shoulder blades.
Against his arse he felt Carver’s cock, stiff and trapped between their bodies.
Grant gripped the arm that was back around his chest and mewled softly when
Carver gripped his stiff cock. No other words were spoken as Carver began
rutting against him. Grant opened his eyes and watched Carver stroke his cock,
listened to the soft grunts in his ear. It was so close to what he wanted,
Carver moving against him instead of inside him, but still more than he’d
allowed himself to hope for when he got up this morning.
It didn’t take long at all for Grant to peak. Breath was gusting in his ear as
he hung limply in Carver’s grasp. His rutting sped, his arm back around Grant’s
waist. The rhythm stuttered and he heard a soft curse before he felt Carver’s
spend at the small of his back. They stood motionless for a moment, Grant still
clinging to the arms around him.
“He’s going to know,” Carver said glumly.
“He’ll tease us both at least,” Grant said diplomatically.
“Small comfort,” said Carver.
Lips were suddenly at his neck, kissing softly while hands slid across his
skin. They moved across his stomach and down his chest, coming to rest at his
hips.
“Oh…oh…umm,” Grant stuttered. He moved his head to the side and let his hands
rest on top of Carvers. “That feels…oh…”
“Think you can sneak into my room tonight,” Carver said pulling away slightly.
“After everyone else is asleep?”
“Definitely,” said Grant after a deep breath.
“Stand still,” said Carver. “Let me clean you off.”
He felt hands swiping at his back and Grant hoped he could concentrate for the
rest of the day.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Garrett was standing at the very edge of the bank when Carver, now wearing his
shirt but holding the jerkin and his sword, and Grant approached. He turned,
looking a bit disappointed.
“That didn’t take quite as long as I’d hoped,” said Garrett. He stepped closer
to Grant and rubbed his chin. A grin began to spread across his face. “No grass
in the hair…nice and flushed though.”
Grant was actually beet red but he stubbornly met Garrett’s gaze.
“Hmm…secret meeting later maybe,” said Garrett his eyes twinkling merrily.
“Carver can be quite the gentlemen when he wants to be.”
“Oh leave off it,” Carver said irritably. He sat and set his sword next to him
within easy reach. “I’m not going to roll around in the grass and get prodded
in odd spots by rocks.”
“A roll in the grass can be quite fun,” Garrett said cheerfully sidestepping to
pick up his pack.
“And how many times did you get caught with hay in your hair?” Carver asked as
Grant sat quietly next to him.
“Only once or twice by Mother,” he replied rummaging around. “Father…around
four I think. You had a knack for it though.”
“How old were you?” Grant asked accepting the sandwich Garrett offered him.
“Sixteen,” Garrett said smirking. “I was quite precocious back in the day.”
Carver snorted and took the sandwich he was offered. “More like a menace. I was
eighteen before you ask.”
“All joking aside,” Garrett said suddenly serious. He sat a little apart from
them and aimed an intense look at Grant. “You need to work on that guilty look.
Sebastian was quite the lady’s man in his younger days. He’ll spot something
off rather quickly.”
“Did I really look guilty?” Grant asked softly.
“You still do,” said Garrett gently. “I’m sorry you both have to sneak around.
You really shouldn’t have to. But until someone can convince your father to let
you be yourself…”
“I know,” Grant said bitterly. “He still doesn’t smile at me.”
“I don’t think he’s quite given up on putting you in the Chantry either,”
Carver said.
“That wouldn’t go very well,” said Grant frowning. “I know I have to but…I’m
already tired of hiding my magic.”
“Oh,” said Garrett grinning suddenly. “I just had a thought.”
“Unthink it,” said Carver glaring at him.
“Don’t be so unimaginative Carver,” Garrett chided. “You’ll really like these
spells.”
“We’re trying not to get caught.”
“There’s always a nice roll in the grass,” said Garrett standing. “Don’t worry
about me peeking. I’m more than happy to leave you to it. I’ll even bring a
nice blanket for you.”
“Garrett,” moaned Carver.
“Andraste’s knickers,” Grant murmured.
“Hurry up you two,” he said chuckling. “Grant’s concentration is going to be
rubbish so I want to get back and deal with these herbs.”
“Was he always so cheeky?” Grant asked softly after Garrett had moved away.
“He used to be a lot worse,” Carver sighed. “Let’s get a move on before he
leaves us behind.”
The afternoon was spent at Garrett’s clinic. Carver sat at the desk while Grant
attempted to pay attention to Garrett. His eyes kept drifting to the boy’s
arse. It didn’t really help that he kept bringing attention to it. Grant would
tug on his shirt and smooth it over his rear or rub his thighs. Carver didn’t
think he was doing it on purpose, most of it at any rate.
It was a little easier to hide their eagerness when they left the clinic. Grant
knew as well as Carver did that if they were caught the price would be high.
Carver focused on his duties, which worked fairly well until they were actually
in the castle. With all the soldiers guarding entrances and patrolling the
battlements there wasn’t much reason for him to be as vigilant. He had never
shirked his responsibilities in the castle but today he found it a little
harder to concentrate on them.
Grant spent most of the time with his nose in one of the three journals that
Garrett had sent him off with. Carver spent most of that time trying not to
think of an eager teen sharing his bed. He’d spent the two previous weeks
coming to terms with his desires. Grant was so very similar to Anders that it
had brought all of his feelings to the surface again. As similar as they were
there were also differences.
Anders was talkative while Grant usually watched and listened. Grant was kind
and polite to the elven servants but they were just servants. Anders would have
befriended them. There was less complaining, he wasn’t half as sarcastic as
Anders had been and those were only the biggest differences he’d noticed.
Despite them, despite the thirty-five year age gap, despite the danger
discovery presented, Carver found his feelings and his desire for Grant had
only grown. Hesitation would only torture both of them. He didn’t know if Grant
had the same sort of feelings for him that he did for Grant but he would regret
not finding out.
When night had finally fallen, Carver followed him to his room, staying in the
hallway. Grant stood in the doorway, a journal held tightly in one hand, and
smiled. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he said softly.
Carver returned his smile and nodded. Grant shut the door between them and he
continued down the hall. He followed his nightly routine strictly. First he
cared for his sword and hung it on the rack over his bed. He did a few simple
exercises and stripped for a cold wash from the basin. Instead of putting on a
comfortable pair of sleep pants he sat on his bed, still neatly made, naked and
facing the door. A single lamp burned on the nearby nightstand.
Time seemed to drag on but eventually his door opened. Illumination from the
hallway was fleeting as Grant stepped in quickly. The bolt was drawn and he
turned, looking around the room curiously before his eyes locked on Carver. As
Grant walked quickly across the room he pulled off the long nightshirt and
dropped it to the floor. He wore nothing underneath and was already quite
stiff. Carver rose to his knees as Grant crawled up onto the bed, his eyes
darting from Carver’s mostly stiff cock to his face and back again. Grant rose
to his knees as well and stopped just out of arm’s length.
“He cared for you,” said Grant softly. “I dreamed of the day he found out you
joined the Templars. He was…heart broken. Then I dreamed of bits in between.
Did you protect him?”
“I did,” Carver whispered.
“I don’t think he ever said…” Grant came slowly forward, his eyes locked on
Carver’s. “But…he was grateful.”
“I never knew…”
“I’ll understand if you call out his name.”
Carver smiled in spite of the sudden turmoil his emotions had become. He pulled
Grant to him; their bodies flush and wrapped his arms around Grant. “That
chance passed long ago,” he whispered softly into his ear. “I know who I’m
taking to my bed tonight Grant.”
Without giving him a chance to reply Carver gripped his arse cheeks and kissed
the soft spot where shoulder met neck. Grant made that same little mewl he had
earlier, head falling to the side and his hands sliding around Carver’s torso.
He kneaded Grant’s arse while he kissed and sucked at his neck. Carver was
careful not to bruise him however.
“On your back,” Carver said softly when Grant was panting.
Grant gazed up at him after he’d lay back, his head on Carver’s pillow. He was
full of nervous excitement as Carver lifted his legs. Carver settled on his
knees, Grant’s legs resting on his shoulders. He rubbed Grant’s thighs, one
hand slowly sliding down to his arse.
“This is what you want?” Carver asked pressing against his entrance.
“Maker yes,” he replied quickly. “More than anything.”
“Slick,” said Carver holding out this hand. Grant complied quickly, holding a
hand over his. “Now hold your legs and relax.”
Carver took a generous amount of grease from his palm and rubbed his entrance,
pushing a single finger through the tight ring. He stroked his cock to spread
the rest watching Grant closely. It wasn’t until he’d added a third finger that
Grant grimaced slightly and clenched. Carver paused, wondering just how often
he’d fucked himself with his fingers. When he’d relaxed again Carver continued
thrusting with his fingers until his eyes were half closed and his breathing
had deepened.
“Carver,” he whined quietly.
“All right. Here we go.”
Slowly he pushed his cock inside, stopping when their bodies were flush. Grant
was panting heavily, his arms shaking and his eyes hooded. Carver paused and
draped his legs over his thighs.
“More,” Grant gasped as Carver leaned over him.
With a steady rhythm Carver rocked. He leaned over further to capture his lips.
What Grant lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. The kisses were
sloppy, his grip on Carver’s shoulders or arms too tight. Carver sped his
thrusts steadily, ending up with a tight grip on the base of Grant’s cock to
help keep him from peaking too quickly.
The steady stream of quiet moans and soft mewling from Grant mixed pleasantly
with his own panting and the soft slap of flesh. It only took a few strokes to
finish off Grant. His seed spurted over his abdomen and he groaned steadily as
Carver chased his release. Grant smiled sleepily as Carver stuttered to a stop
with a grunt.
Grant was mostly asleep as Carver carefully cleaned him off. After a moment of
indecision he lay next to the boy, smiling as Grant rolled to his side into
him. Carver lay awake for a while, holding him as he slept peacefully.
***** Chapter 11 *****
Almost three weeks had passed and during the day not much changed for Grant. He
still spent as much time as he could at Graham’s clinic and Graham took him out
of the city as much as he dared. On their first trip out after that night
Graham had brought a blanket just like he said he would. Despite their chagrin
at being encouraged, he and Carver had made use of it.
Life at the castle was fairly normal. Grant learned from his tutors while
Carver stood or sat nearby. Knowing that he could sneak into Carver’s room at
night helped him focus. It was hard to act like nothing was different however.
He wanted to sit close and walk down the halls hand in hand but he kept his
distance. Carver smiled at him a bit more often but was mostly just as grim and
serious as he always had been.
Grant had continued to read through the journals Graham loaned him. His dreams
had continued off and on and they seemed to be gradually getting further into
the past. Instead of Kirkwall most of the dreams took place in Ferelden, a
place called Vigil’s Keep and the arling of Amaranthine. In these dreams Anders
seemed like a completely different person.
He was still full of compassion and anger but neither emotion was as visible as
they had been in Kirkwall. Anders seemed aloof and uncaring. He hid behind a
wall of humor and sarcasm. So far only the dark-haired rogue, Nathaniel Howe,
and a tiny elven mage, the Warden Commander or Neria, had managed to break past
that wall.
Unlike dreaming of his time in Kirkwall, which were either boring or very
frightening, Anders seemed to do nothing in Amaranthine besides fight and have
sex. His favorites seemed to be Howe and Neria but there were many random
soldiers, the servants of the keep and even a few bar maids. These dreams left
him hard and very aroused. Grant had woken Carver on more than one occasion
after a racy dream.
Grant couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the dramatic shift in his
personality. In Kirkwall the humor and sarcasm that had been ever present in
Amaranthine took a back seat to the serious, angry person that not many had
known. Graham and Carver hadn’t known him then so asking them seemed a little
pointless. It was possible they knew why he’d changed and he was seriously
considering asking them on the next trip out of Starkhaven.
At the moment all he wanted was for Carver to fuck him silly however. The dream
he’d just woken from had included both of Anders’ favorite people from Vigil’s
Keep plus an Antivan elf that Neria seemed to know. Grant was so stiff it was
almost painful. His body tingled from remembered stimulation.
There was no one in the hallway when he peeked out cautiously. It was very late
and he hadn’t expected anyone. The soldiers did patrols at night but there was
more risk of being seen on his balcony than in the hall. He stayed close to the
wall anyway and looked both directions before stepping into Carver’s room. The
warrior was always waiting when these nightly visits were planned. The other
times Grant had snuck in unannounced Carver was awake before his door was
completely shut.
Carver was up on one elbow blinking at him in the gloom. “Grant?” he said
softly. “It’s late.”
“I know,” Grant whispered as he hurried across the room. He swept his
nightshirt off and dropped it to the floor before crawling onto the bed. “I’m
sorry.” He straddled Carver’s legs and scooted as close as he could. “You
wouldn’t believe what I was just dreaming of.”
He surprised Carver with a kiss, rolling his hips to find any sort of
stimulation he could. Carver gripped his hips to stop the motion and sat up
fully. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked arching an eyebrow.
“More like who hasn’t been in me,” Grant said desperately. “Anders was sort of
a whore before he got to Kirkwall. I just dreamed of being in between two other
Wardens. There was also an elf, root deep down my throat and I just…please
Carver.”
“I knew he was a lot more experienced,” said Carver still holding him firmly.
“But isn’t that exaggerating a bit?”
“I’ve had so many sex dreams lately,” Grant pouted. “Soldiers, Wardens, being
sucked off by bar maids in store rooms. Please Carver. I want you.”
“That face is dangerous,” he muttered. “We’re talking to Garrett about these
dreams tomorrow. I’m not sure I can keep up with you at this rate. I’m not as
young as you are.”
“Please Carver,” Grant said running his fingers through his hair. “You’re
better than some half remembered bloke I’ve never met. Pretty please.”
“Oh, stop with the pouting already,” Carver said irritably. His hands moved
from Grant’s hips to his arse. “I’m convinced.”
Grant grinned excitedly and pulled him in for a kiss. Carver’s tongue plunged
through his parted lips and for the next fifteen minutes or so nothing else
mattered except him. His hands slid across Grant’s skin, pulling at his
nipples, rolling his balls, squeezing his arse while his lips worked at Grant’s
neck, along his jaw and across his collarbones. Grant did his best to return
the pleasure he was being given but wasn’t sure how successful he was.
When Carver was ready Grant was beyond ready. He lay on his stomach gripping
Carver’s wrists tightly while the stronger man plowed into him over and over.
His moans were muffled by Carver’s pillow. Grant barely heard Carver’s soft
panting grunts. He felt the pleasure of being filled, the large strong body
over him, his cock trapped between the mattress and his body, balls slapping
his arse with every powerful thrust.
How long this went on Grant didn’t know. It felt too short when Carver slammed
into him one final time, thrusting erratically while he was still buried,
emptying himself into Grant. His hips were pulled up slightly and Carver tugged
his cock, moaning softly as Grant clenched around his sensitive member still
buried inside when he peaked. Carver lowered him back down and Grant could only
sigh contentedly as Carver pulled out and lay beside him. He turned his head to
see Carver smiling and Grant returned it.
“Feel better?” Carver asked softly running a hand through his hair.
“Yes,” Grant replied sleepily. “Much better. I know I can’t sleep here but…can
I stay? Just for a little bit.”
“A little while,” said Carver. “It’s later than usual and we can’t get caught
like this.”
“I know,” he sighed.
Grant rolled onto his side wondering if he was going to feel sore in the
morning. Carver scooted close behind him, his arm coming over his side to
gently hold them together. They lay like that for a while, neither speaking but
both wishing he didn’t have to go. Eventually Grant rose, turning for a kiss.
He retrieved his nightshirt and pulled it on. He looked back wistfully before
peeking out and making his way to his room.
*
Carver lay awake for some time staring at the door and dragging a finger
through the spend Grant had left on his sheets. Since the first night he’d
snuck in Grant returned every three days or so. He mostly knew when to expect
the boy but the vivid wet dreams he’d been having lately brought him later and
a bit more often. Keeping up with a sixteen year old libido was somewhat
challenging anyway but it was a little more challenging now. Grant was eager
and responsive and that was usually enough to get him interested. That he
regularly ended up staying for a while afterwards gave him some hope that he
wanted more than just sex.
He fell asleep thinking of the wishful look back and woke later to the muffled
sounds of Grant wailing mournfully. Without thinking, still half asleep, Carver
bolted out of his room and down the hall into Grant’s room. Grant was on his
hands and knees halfway to his balcony doorway shaking his head and shouting
the word ‘no’ at the top of his lungs. Carver pulled him upright and Grant’s
gaze locked on his, haunted and sorrowful.
“What have I done to him?” Grant said shakily. “Dear Maker what have I done!”
“Calm down Grant,” Carver said evenly. “Let’s get you outside.”
“I changed him!” he exclaimed loudly. “Corrupted him! A pure beautiful spirit
and I ruined him! My anger, my Maker cursed rage! Why Carver? Why did I do it?”
“You’re talking about Justice,” said Carver in astonishment. “I don’t know
Grant. Anders didn’t talk to me.”
“Maker,” Grant whispered.
He threw his arms around Carver, halting their slow progress towards the
balcony and nuzzled into Carver’s neck. Carver felt him trembling and returned
his embrace, rubbing his back. Grant wasn’t very calm when Carver noticed
someone standing in the doorway. Anne Vael stepped into her son’s room and
calmly shut the door behind her. It was then Carver realized that he wasn’t
wearing a stitch of clothing.
Grant didn’t react to the soft sound and Carver did his best not to tense. He
scowled defiantly at her, meeting her cool fury.
“Should I be concerned?” she asked evenly.
“Mother!” Grant exclaimed turning but not completely letting go of Carver.
“Cover yourself,” Anne ordered coldly. “And get out of Grant’s room.”
“No,” said Grant turning and clinging tighter. “Please don’t go! That dream was
horrible…I need…” Grant shuddered as he fell silent.
“Calm down Grant,” Carver said quietly putting his arms back around him.
“What’s going on here?” Anne demanded.
“Grant has been dreaming of Anders’ life,” Carver said.
“That doesn’t explain your lack of clothing or the way you’re clinging to my
son,” she said. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing he hasn’t wanted me to,” Carver snapped. Her eyes widened and he could
almost feel Garrett’s hand connecting with the back of his head. “Shit.”
“Please Mother,” Grant said softly. “Don’t tell Father.”
“Grant…” Anne said in horrified confusion.
“If you send him away I’ll only follow after him,” Grant interrupted. He
finally let go and turned, careful to stay in front of Carver. “And I won’t let
Father execute him.”
Anne stared at them for a long moment and her gaze softened a tiny bit. “Very
well Grant. I wish to speak with you both separately however. If you will lend
Serah Hawke a robe, I will be waiting in his room.”
She turned and left quietly shutting the door behind her. Grant sagged against
him and Carver embraced him once more.
“I’m sorry,” Carver said softly.
“Better than catching us at it,” Grant said wryly.
Carver snorted and kissed his temple. “Are you all right?”
“Not really,” he sighed. “That dream…I want to see Graham as soon as we can.”
“If your mother doesn’t throw me out.”
“She won’t,” Grant said semi confidently. “Like I said, I’ll just run away. You
can take me to Antiva like you offered before. Take the bed sheet. I don’t
think I have a robe that will fit you.”
He wasn’t confident at all but Carver pulled the sheet from his bed and wrapped
it around himself. Grant slumped to the bed and scrubbed his face. Carver
squeezed his shoulder before turning towards the door, hoping he wasn’t going
to dig himself further into the hole.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Anne was standing by the bed when Carver entered. It was situated against the
wall to the left when entering. Her back was to the door but her posture was
stiff. It reminded Carver of his own mother when she was furious with him.
Instead of sulking or hanging his head in shame he leaned back against the
door, tightening the sheet around his waist and tucking the end in. He crossed
his arms over his chest and waited, staring at the bun her blonde hair was
rolled into.
“How long?” she asked without turning.
“Three weeks,” Carver replied.
Her head tilted downward for a moment. “There are so many things I could call
you,” Anne said as she turned. She was every bit as furious as he’d guessed.
“Go ahead,” he snorted. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Your job is to protect him,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t to
seduce him.”
“I have protected him,” Carver said angrily. “And for the record, Grant
approached me. I didn’t encourage him at all.”
“You didn’t discourage him either,” Anne said accusatorily.
“No I didn’t,” he said pushing away from the door. Carver walked across the
room and stood in front of her. “If it was just about sex I would have
encouraged him to find someone closer to his own age. But it’s not. When I was
a young man I kept my feelings about someone special hidden and lost my chance
forever. I won’t do it twice. I wanted him as much as he wanted me.”
She sighed heavily and stood straighter, meeting his gaze evenly. “As much as
I’d like to throw you out of Starkhaven I will respect my son’s wishes. He has
so very few reasons to smile.”
“He hasn’t had any reasons to smile,” Carver said quietly. “He’s been trapped
here because Sebastian can’t see past his likeness to Anders. His siblings have
everything and he has to fight for anything. Grant needs some happiness.”
“I will not pretend to like his choice,” Anne said. “But I will remain silent.
I will be watching you Serah Hawke.”
“Fair enough,” he replied.
Carver stood to one side and watched Anne walk calmly to his door. When it was
shut behind her he sunk to his bed and sighed, scrubbing his face with his
hands.
“Don’t get caught he says,” Carver muttered irritably. “Bloody brilliant
Carver.”
He sighed as he stood and walked to his wardrobe. Irritation at his own
stupidity warred with worry over Grant as he readied himself for another day.
*
Grant still sat on his bed in his nightshirt when his mother knocked once and
entered his room. Her conversation with Carver had been rather short and he
wasn’t sure if he should be worried about it or not. She sat next to him after
closing the door. He kept his gaze on the floor between his feet, a little
embarrassed and still shaken from his dream.
“I’m at a loss Grant,” she said softly.
“I won’t stop,” he said defiantly. “If I have to run away I will.”
“He’s too old,” Anne said firmly. “It’s inappropriate.”
“So is Elle and her favorite soldier,” Grant said sullenly. “They don’t even
try to hide and she hasn’t been in trouble for it.”
“You’re not in trouble.”
“Aren’t I?” he scoffed. Grant looked over at her and found a small frown. “I’ve
been having sex with my bodyguard. Of course I’m in trouble. I dared for a
moment to be normal and go for something I wanted instead of having everything
dictated to me.”
“Why him?” she asked her frown deepening. “Why not someone closer to your own
age? Someone from Starkhaven.”
“Because he’s not frightened of Father. He stood up for me. He talks to me like
I’m a person not the mysterious and forbidden son of the Prince. He cares for
me Mother. Me. Grant Vael.”
“He’s a drifter. The only reason I didn’t protest him becoming your protector
is because Sebastian knew him. He doesn’t know you Grant. When he’s satisfied
he’ll move on and leave you behind.”
“You’ve got it backwards. Carver’s worried about not keeping me satisfied.”
Grant stood, took a few steps away and turned. “Please understand Mother.”
“I’m sorry Grant,” Anne said gently. “I don’t understand and definitely don’t
approve. He’s too old. I don’t trust his motives and I think you’re going to
end up with a broken heart.”
Grant wasn’t sure if he were more frustrated or hurt. “You don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you,” said Anne standing. “Your father has kept you isolated and
it’s made you vulnerable. I won’t tell Sebastian but I will be watching you
both. I love you Grant.”
Anne pulled him into hug and Grant sighed as he returned it. When she left he
flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was glad that she wasn’t
going to do anything but it hurt more than he thought possible that she didn’t
trust him. His mother knew he’d been sneaking out regularly and she still
thought him naive. Grant scowled at the ceiling and clenched his hands into
fists.
While it was true that there was a lot he didn’t know about the world he didn’t
think he was as vulnerable as his mother assumed. Graham had taught him many
ways mages were caught and how normal citizens of Thedas reacted to mages.
There were a lot of things he had to pay attention to in order to stay hidden.
It didn’t occur to him as he lay there fuming that Anne didn’t know he was a
mage and couldn’t have known how inexperienced he wasn’t.
He knew Carver would take him to one of the mage strongholds if he asked but
despite this morning’s incident Grant still didn’t really want to leave. Graham
would likely stay here and as long as he kept having dreams about Anders’ life
he wanted to stay close to him. Carver had admitted more than once that Anders
hadn’t confided in him the way he had Graham.
There had to be a way to express his irritation. Grant smiled as a thought
occurred to him. He jumped up and hurried over to his wardrobe. One of his
tighter pair of trousers went directly on without putting on small clothes
first. His nightshirt was dropped into the dirty bin and he pulled on one of
his plain shirts. Grant pulled on a pair of socks and tied his boots. Carver
was waiting across the hallway when Grant left his room. He arched an eyebrow
at Grant’s attire.
“Are we leaving?” Carver asked quietly.
“Only if Graham will come too,” Grant said. “The dreams…”
“I don’t know,” said Carver. “He seems to like it here.”
“Let’s go,” said Grant starting off down the hallway. “We’ll talk on the way
there.”
Carver followed him without speaking. By now the soldiers were used to him
coming and going but they still seemed to take note. They were well into the
city before Carver broke the silence between them.
“You’re chat with mum not go well?”
“She thinks you’re using me,” Grant said bitterly. “That I’m nothing more than
a conquest and you’ll leave when you get tired of me.”
“You’re not a conquest,” Carver said irritably.
“I know,” said Grant shooting him a smile over his shoulder. “I told her you
cared but she thinks I’m just love struck. That I’m vulnerable because Father
hid me for sixteen years. There’s a lot I don’t know but I’m not all that
stupid.”
“Take it easy Grant,” Carver said stepping up beside him. “It seems you’ve got
his temper too.”
Grant stopped in his tracks, suddenly more frightened than angry. The nightmare
he’d woken from this morning came flooding back. It had been Anders’ anger that
warped the spirit Justice. Carver stopped a pace ahead of him and looked back.
“I can’t help it,” Grant said looking up at him. “Mother has been the only
reason I’ve gotten anything but she doesn’t trust me to know what I feel, to
know that I’m right. I am angry. He was always angry. I…”
“Shh,” Carver said gripping his shoulder. “You have a right to be angry. He had
a right to be angry.”
“Isn’t anger bad?”
“You’re thinking of unfocused rage. It depends on what you do with your anger.
Lashing out at anyone and everything like I did as a young man isn’t a good way
to deal with it. Focus your anger. Temper it with knowledge and reason.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Carver frowned deep in thought for a moment. “Tell me why you’re dressed like
that. We won’t be out of the city for a couple of more days so why did you
dress for it?”
“Because I’m expected to wear the fancy things,” Grant replied immediately.
“I’m very tired of always doing what’s expected of me and besides, I sort of
like the simple look.”
“Would you be wearing that shirt right now if your mother hadn’t made you mad?”
“Probably not,” Grant said after a moment. “I think I see what you’re getting
at. What about him though? It was his anger that changed…his friend.”
“You’re better off asking Graham about that,” Carver said. “He knows a lot more
about…his friend than I ever did.”
Grant nodded and smiled. “Thank you. I don’t feel quite so bad about being
angry with my mother.”
Carver smiled back and said, “Come on.”
***** Chapter 13 *****
They were all seated around the table in Graham’s house. Grant had glossed over
the sex dreams and focused on the dream that had woken him. It had begun
innocently, Anders and the armored corpse the spirit Justice had inhabited
walking quickly through the woods. Anders was nervous but determined. They
stopped after a short while and stood facing each other. That’s when his dream
became confusing.
Justice was transferred from the corpse to Anders in a blazing flash of blue
light. Wardens and Templars filled the clearing, weapons drawn. Inside of
himself, Anders seemed to be pushed back. He wanted to flee but the spirit
laughed and turned towards the closest person. A sword appeared through his
chest. Anders should have been dead but he proceeded to tear his attackers
apart.
Grant woke screaming, some of the other frightening dreams suddenly making more
sense. Completely panicked he’d tried to get to his balcony, falling to his
knees partway there when he realized what had happened to the spirit. Anders’
anger had been too much for Justice to handle. Neither of them had expected the
outcome, Justice morphing into Vengeance.
“I was shouting,” Grant said staring at the table. “Then Carver was there.”
“I was trying to get him to the balcony,” Carver said. “But we didn’t make it
before his mother came in.”
“Why do you look like you just got caught putting frogs in Bethany’s clothes
chest?” Graham asked frowning, his brows pulled down.
“Because I ended up admitting that I’ve been sleeping with Grant.”
“Maker’s Breath Carver,” Graham said in exasperation. He pushed away from the
table and smacked the back of Carver’s head on his way to the tea kettle.
“Better Anne than Sebastian I suppose but still, very stupid.”
“I knew he was going to do that,” Carver muttered sullenly.
“She promised not to tell Father,” Grant said shifting uncomfortably in his
chair. “Mother said she’d be watching us though.”
“You could just leave Starkhaven,” Graham said bringing the kettle to the
table. “Carver could take you to one of the strongholds and you wouldn’t have
to hide your relationship at all.”
“I thought of that,” said Grant. “Would you consider coming with?”
“I really shouldn’t,” said Graham evenly as he filled the three teacups he’d
dug out earlier.
“Brother, if Sebastian realizes who you are he’ll have you executed,” Carver
said sternly leaning forward.
“And if Sebastian discovers you’re having sex with his son you’ll be just as
dead,” Graham replied. “I know you aren’t going to be leaving without Grant and
he doesn’t seem to want to go.”
Carver scowled at his brother and asked, “Why hasn’t he recognized you?”
“Sebastian thinks Garrett Hawke is dead,” Graham said sitting down. He sipped
at his tea and set the cup carefully down on the table. “He caught up to me
eleven years ago.”
“Caught up,” said Grant frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Have you dreamed of the last day we spent in Kirkwall?” Graham asked. Grant
shook his head and he sighed. “After the Chantry was destroyed, Sebastian
demanded that I kill Anders. I didn’t do it of course and he left to reclaim
the throne of Starkhaven. Before he stormed off, Sebastian swore to find both
Anders and I…show us the true meaning of justice.”
Grant took a moment to think of what he’d just been told. “It was Father,” he
said slowly.
The nightmares of Anders’ death flashed through his mind, the voice he could
almost recognize. The pain through his chest had been an arrow. He felt it
yanked out and winced as he put a hand over his heart. Hands roughly turned him
over and he saw Sebastian, eyes burning in rage, mouth contorted into a furious
sneer. Anders closed his eyes when he saw the knife. He heard his father
clearly, may the Maker forgive you, and felt the slash across his throat. Grant
gasped and clutched at this throat, feeling Anders’ despair and relief in equal
measure.
“It was Father!” Grant exclaimed. His own horror and anger drowned out Anders’
feelings and he shot to his feet. “He knows Anders is dead and he claimed it
was for my own good! Because no one knows what happened to him but he knew all
along.”
“Grant!” Carver yelled shaking him.
“No!” he shouted furiously. “I’m sick of the excuses to keep me hidden! He
can’t stand me! I’ve never done anything to warrant the way he treats me!”
“Calm down Grant,” Carver ordered giving him another shake.
Grant struggled to free himself, wanting only to confront his father, when
everything went black.
*
Carver wrapped his arms around him as his eyes rolled back. Grant slumped in
his arms and he silenced the boy as he carefully guided him to the floor.
“Just had to have his talent with fire too,” Garrett said irritably as he
poured the contents of the kettle on the smoldering table. “Did you silence
him?”
“Yes. What did you do?”
“Just a sleep spell. He should be out for an hour or so. Take him back to the
bed.”
He worked his arms underneath his shoulders and knees then lifted Grant, his
head falling back over Carver’s arm. His face was slack but his chest rose and
fell with even regularity. Careful not to bump his legs, Carver took him into
the back room and laid him gently down on Garrett’s bed. He straightened
Grant’s legs and stood over him. Grant seemed peaceful at the moment but he
knew that would be gone the second he woke. Now extremely irritated he turned
and strode to the doorway.
“Was that really wise?” Carver asked glaring at Garrett as he attempted to mop
up the tea.
“He would have figured it out eventually,” Garrett sighed. “Better here where
we can deal with his inevitable magical outburst.”
“He was already mad at his mum and now he’s furious with Sebastian too. I
really don’t see how this is going to help anything. Especially after that
dream about Justice.”
“I don’t know Carver. I’ve been cursed with shitty timing my whole life. Why
should this be any different? We need to make sure Grant doesn’t do anything
stupid.”
“Like telling Sebastian off for being a hypocritical jerk?” Carver snorted.
“Does he even know about the dreams? His mother didn’t seem too surprised.”
“Anne was probably too busy being furious with you to pay attention to why you
were in Grant’s room to begin with. I doubt Sebastian knows about the dreams.
Either he doesn’t pay attention or Grant is really good at keeping things from
him.”
“There are so many ways this could go bad. Leaving is sounding like a great
idea.”
Garrett straightened and dropped the rag he had in a nearby bucket. He turned
to Carver, frowning deeply. “That would be the simplest solution. I’m not
entirely sure it’s the best one though. I don’t think Sebastian is going to
just let Grant run away. Then you’ll have Sebastian trailing behind wherever
you go.” He grimaced after a short pause and continued in a dismayed tone.
“Grant might have to watch you die or you’ll end up with a bunch of nasty scars
like I did.”
“Sebastian gave you that scar didn’t he,” Carver said suddenly sure of it.
“Eleven years ago.”
“He did.” Garrett turned his chair slightly and sank onto it wearily. “I was in
Ferelden. I really don’t know how he found out. Sebastian baited me with a
letter, claiming to be a mage wanting to get to the stronghold.”
“Helpful you fell for it.”
“I went to the meeting spot, a barn at a nearby abandoned farm. I had no more
stepped through the door when my chest sprouted several arrows and one really
bad shot skated along my jaw. It was pure luck none of them hit my heart. It
was hard to breathe though. Sebastian just left me there after a brief look.
Told me he hoped the Maker would forgive me and walked off. I really should be
dead. Managed to pull some of the arrows out and nearly choked on the potions
before I passed out.”
“It’s still dangerous here,” Carver said firmly.
“Better here where he believes me dead than anywhere else,” Garrett said
staring at the floor and rubbing the scar on his jaw. “People believe I’m still
alive and I might be recognized. I’m tired of the killing Carver.”
“What a mess,” Carver grumbled. “I guess we’re all on thin ice now. Will you
come with us if something goes horribly wrong?”
“Yes,” said Garrett looking up. “I really don’t want to die.”
Carver nodded and turned back to the bedroom after a moment. He crossed to the
bed wondering how he could help. Grant had rolled to his side and Carver sat
near him, leaning back against the headboard. There was nothing to do but wait
until he woke.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Grant moaned softly and sat up.
“Grant?” Carver asked.
“What happened?” Grant said as he rubbed his eyes and looked around.
“Garrett put you to sleep,” said Carver calmly. “You lost control and tried
setting the table on fire.”
He was on Graham’s bed, Carver sitting next to him. The morning came flooding
back and he sighed. Grant scooted down a little and lay back down, resting his
head on Carver’s thigh. The warrior said nothing, simply rested his hand on
Grant’s shoulder.
“Is he awake yet?” Graham asked from the doorway.
“Yes,” Grant said sullenly. “And I’m rather angry with you.”
“I’m sorry I put you to sleep but I didn’t want you to burn down my home,” he
said evenly.
“It’s not that,” Grant said sitting up again. “You knew who killed me the
moment I told you about that dream. Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“I did know,” Graham replied. He leaned in the doorway and met Grant’s
accusatory glare with irritating calmness. “Figured out what the dreams are
then?”
“Memories,” said Grant continuing to glare. “And why didn’t you tell me that
either?”
“You were frightened enough. If I had told you that I suspected you and Anders
have the same soul you would have broken down completely.”
Grant’s glare turned to a scowl. Graham was right of course. The journals had
given him insight that he wouldn’t otherwise have had. He huffed and turned
away from both of them. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“What do you want to do?” Carver said.
“Yell and scream,” Grant said sullenly. “Demand answers I know I’m not going to
get.”
“That never worked very well,” said Carver. “Mostly just got me in trouble.”
“I don’t really want to go back,” Grant said. “I’ve tried so hard…I just wanted
him to like me. He’ll never see me…”
“Once more I find myself defending Sebastian,” Graham sighed. “If he didn’t
care about you Grant, why did he hire Carver at your request?”
“He told me that I wouldn’t have been his first choice,” Carver added
reluctantly. “The only reason he asked me is because you wanted me as your
bodyguard.”
Grant sighed heavily and stared at the bedspread beneath him. Knowing that his
father had killed Anders only made him furious. His father had lied to him,
made excuses to keep him hidden away and was overly strict. It was hard to
believe that Sebastian felt anything for him but shame and contempt. He
couldn’t ignore the simple fact that he had hired Carver at his request
however. Could it really have been concern that caused the harsh unfairness
that he’d endured? Grant wasn’t sure what to believe.
“I should get to the clinic,” Graham said. “Stay as long as you need to.”
“Graham,” Grant said looking up at him.
“Yes?” he said turning around.
“Why do I have such a hard time controlling my magic when I’m angry?”
“You’re very far behind,” Graham replied. “My father spent many hours with my
sister and I every single day. Sebastian has made that impossible. I’m sure
manifesting late hasn’t helped much either.”
Grant nodded and turned his gaze back to the bedspread.
“Stay here as long as you need to,” Graham repeated. “Get yourself together.
Put your blanket down first if you feel the need to use the bed.”
“Garrett!” Carver growled.
He looked up in time to see Graham batting away the pillow Carver had thrown at
him. Graham smirked as he disappeared through the doorway. Carver huffed and
scooted closer to him and they heard the front door moments later. Grant sighed
and leaned against him.
“What do you think I should do?” Grant asked softly.
“Do you want to leave or stay here?” Carver replied.
“If we leave he’ll send someone after us,” said Grant. “I’m sure of it.”
“Make a demand. See if he’s actually willing to work with you.”
Grant flopped backwards and stared at the ceiling. “I’m amazed he hired you to
be my bodyguard. Anything else and he’ll just frown and shake his head.”
Carver’s weight disappeared and Grant rose up on his elbows. He picked up the
pillow he’d thrown and came back to the bed. “Let’s just lay here for a bit,”
he said putting the pillow at the head of the bed. “Calm down, clear our
minds…”
“Cuddle?” Grant interrupted hopefully.
“And cuddle,” Carver said his cheeks turning the slightest bit red.
“Don’t worry,” Grant said smiling. “If we ever get to a point when we don’t
have to hide I won’t tell anyone you like snuggling with me.”
He smiled sheepishly and settled on his back. Grant squirmed around until his
head rested on Carver’s chest, his groin pressed to Carver’s thigh and one leg
thrown over resting in between his. With strong arms around him, Grant idly
drew patterns on his chest while he thought.
Grant still wanted to march up to his father and demand answers. Now that he
wasn’t completely furious Grant thought this about as wise as telling him that
he was having his first illicit relationship with his bodyguard. There was no
way to tell Sebastian that he knew he’d killed Anders without having to explain
the dreams which he was extremely reluctant to do. Not only might it out him as
a mage but it might put Graham in danger as well.
Running away with Carver was an option but he was reluctant to leave. He was
positive his father would send someone after them or follow himself. The
situation could not remain as it was however. Grant would likely lose his
temper at some point and blurt out something he didn’t really want Sebastian to
know.
There were too many things he needed to hide. As long as they remained careful
Sebastian probably wouldn’t figure out that he wasn’t a virgin. His mother had
promised to remain silent. The dreams wouldn’t be too problematic as long as he
didn’t give away information he shouldn’t have. His biggest problem at the
moment was his inability to control his magic when he was angry. This morning’s
second incident could have ended a lot worse had he not been with Graham and
Carver. He thought of Carver’s suggestion and smiled as a possible solution
crossed his mind.
“Carver,” Grant said sitting up. “I think I know what demand I’m going to
make.” Grant straddled his hips and leaned forward resting his hands on the
pillow to either side of his head. Carver’s hands settled on his hips. “I’ll
tell him I want to study under Graham fully.”
“That’s reasonable,” Carver said. “I doubt he’ll like it.”
“Not if he still wants me to become an initiate,” said Grant. “I don’t really
care if he likes it or not. I need more time with Graham and I want to be a
healer as well.”
“It’s worth a try,” he said. “If he won’t budge then we may have to leave
Starkhaven. You really do need to get a handle on your magic.”
“If Father doesn’t relent we’ll go to Antiva. I don’t want to endanger anyone.”
“All right. Do you want to go talk to him now?”
“I want to go shopping first,” Grant said grinning. “To buy clothing I want to
wear.”
“Can we get something to eat too? We missed breakfast.”
“Yes, I’m sort of hungry too.”
“Only sort of? At your age missing a meal was a terrible ordeal.”
“Well,” Grant said leaning down. “Food isn’t the only thing I’m hungry for.”
“Again?” said Carver incredulously. “You’re as bad as Garrett was.”
“We have to jump on every chance we can,” Grant said rolling his hips. “He did
say we can use the bed.”
“You just want to because Sebastian doesn’t want you to,” Carver said.
“Absolutely,” said Grant grinning. “Would it help if I told you I’m not wearing
any small clothes?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “It would.” Carver smiled before closing the distance
between their lips. It was brief and far too chaste but Carver pushed him away
gently. “We need to put the blanket down. If we leave a mess on his bed we’ll
never hear the end of it.”
***** Chapter 15 *****
Sebastian sat at his desk looking over a list. Douglas had just informed him
that the girl he’d been dating had agreed to marry. Julia was a common girl,
daughter to one of the largest innkeepers in Starkhaven. Having married a
common woman himself, her status didn’t bother him in the least. He had
encouraged both Douglas and Elle to find someone they truly loved. Some of the
nobility would not like his choice however.
Anne had not been accepted immediately either. Their first few years in
Starkhaven had been rough. Gradually she had worked her way into the hearts of
the people and the nobility had reluctantly relented. Sebastian was sure they
would come around with Julia as well. Seating arrangements for the announcement
ball would have been tricky anyway but he wanted to make sure dissenters didn’t
have a chance at the ball to put their heads together.
He put the list of names down next to a diagram of the grand ballroom and
picked up his quill. There was a knock on the door and he paused before dipping
it into the inkwell. “Come in.”
Grant strode into his office with a determined look. Carver followed stoically
behind, his frown deepening a bit as it always did when they caught each
other’s eye. The first thing Sebastian noticed was his clothing. He frowned and
sat back in his chair setting the quill on the desk.
“You have been out of the city,” Sebastian stated.
“I have not been out of the city Father,” Grant said with strained politeness.
“I like these clothes and I’ll be wearing things like them from now on.”
“Grant, you have an image…” he began sternly.
“The only image I have is the one you’ve given me,” Grant interrupted heatedly.
Carver gripped his shoulder for a moment and Grant took a deep breath. He was
slightly calmer when he continued. “I want to study with Graham all the time.”
Sebastian hadn’t liked the idea of Grant being an apprentice to the healer in
the first place. Anne had convinced him to allow it. He hadn’t expected a phase
to last four years however. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” Carver asked angrily as Grant silently fumed. ”Because Anders was a
healer? How many times did he save your life? How many times did he heal Fenris
without so much as a thank you? He spent seven years in Darktown healing
refugees that your precious Chantry turned away because they had no coin.”
“We are not discussing Anders,” Sebastian said through clenched teeth. He met
and matched Carver’s glare with one of his own.
“Why not then?” said Grant furiously as he stepped forward between them.
His arms were crossed over his chest with his hands jammed into his armpits.
This odd habit had appeared over the last few years and it never failed to make
Sebastian wonder. He paid little attention to it now however. Before he could
begin to answer Grant continued.
“It’s bad enough that I look like him isn’t it. Healing people like he did
would be too much. I might go mad and start destroying things! I hate you!”
Grant turned on his heel and ran out. Carver sneered at him before following
quickly. Sebastian sat there stunned for a moment before hurrying after. The
servants he passed directed him down hallways until he knew where his son was
headed. Slightly out of breath he stopped in front of Grant’s bedroom, Carver
blocking the doorway.
“Move,” Sebastian ordered.
“I think you just missed your last chance,” Carver said turning and stepping
into the room.
Sebastian brushed past him to find Grant stuffing things into a pack. “Grant…”
“You can’t stand me,” he said without looking up. “I get it. I’ll just get out
of your life and you can forget I exist.”
“No,” said Sebastian stepping forward. “That is not what I want.”
“I won’t stay locked up here any longer,” Grant said fiercely. “You’ve never
cared about me. Just kept me hidden and gave me twice the rules.”
“That’s not true. One fanatic on either side. They will take you or kill you
and we will never see you again. Studying to become a healer will only add to
the illusion that Anders is alive. I know I’ve been hard on you but you are in
more danger than either of your siblings. I have lost so much family…I don’t
want to lose you too.”
“If you don’t let up you’re going to lose him anyway,” said Carver calmly from
his station near the door. “He isn’t a clueless child anymore. If there’s a
risk it’s his to take.”
“Please Father,” Grant pleaded. “It’s an honorable profession. It won’t sully
our name. I only want to help people.”
“You are set on this?” Sebastian said disheartened.
“Yes,” said Grant.
Sebastian could only see stubborn determination. Grant was fully prepared to
run away if he didn’t relent. It was far better for him to stay in Starkhaven
where there were soldiers to protect him. “Very well,” he sighed softly. “I
still require notification if Graham wishes to take you out of the city.”
Grant nodded and said, “Thank you.”
He gripped Grant’s shoulder but couldn’t make himself smile. Sebastian turned
and met Carver’s gaze. Carver was still frowning but his expression had
softened a bit. He wondered how much he’d told Grant of the past. Sebastian’s
frown deepened and he left Grant’s room without another word spoken.
A Few Days Later
Sebastian gripped the balcony railing overlooking the ballroom. He had
originally come in to see the decoration progress for the announcement ball.
Spotting Carver and Grant below him had redirected his attention quickly. They
stood in the middle of the dance floor out of the way of the servants setting
up and decorating tables at one end of the large room. Grant’s attention was
focused on the musicians at the other end of the room. Carver stood behind and
a little off to the side, watching the activity around him. It was their
proximity that had diverted his attention. Grant didn’t seem at all bothered by
Carver’s hulking presence a hand span or two away. Carver took his duty
seriously and he was rarely seen without Grant. Sebastian hadn’t ever seen them
this close together however. His thoughts turned back to his office. The grip
to Grant’s shoulder was a silent admonishment to calm himself.
He frowned as he watched Grant turn, his excitement clear even from Sebastian’s
high perch. What his son said couldn’t be heard over the music and the noise
from the other end of the room. Carver shook his head and stepped back, his
hands held out in front of him. After a brief conversation Carver nodded
reluctantly. Grant smiled broadly and took one of Carver’s hands and placed it
on his shoulder. They clasped their hands together and Grant’s other went to
Carver’s hip.
Carver watched their feet as Grant slowly led him through the dance steps. This
went on for at least ten minutes. There were some stumbles but their dance was
fairly smooth before their hand positions were reversed. Carver led for the
duration of the next song. Sebastian watched his frown deepening as Grant’s
smile widened further.
“There you are Sebastian,” Anne said stepping up to the railing. “Lady…”
“Anne,” he interrupted quietly. “Look.” Sebastian gestured down and her gaze
followed. “How long have they been so…familiar with each other?”
“I’m not sure,” said Anne after a moment. “Grant looks very happy. Even Carver
is smiling a bit.”
Sebastian straightened and turned to his wife. She was smiling as she watched
them. “It is not necessary for Carver to indulge him so.”
“Oh Sebastian,” Anne sighed. “Carver is a constant companion. It’s better if
they like one another. Surely a few indulgences are harmless.”
He grunted noncommittally and turned back to the balcony railing, frowning as
he watched Carver lead Grant through another dance. After a moment Anne took
his hand. “Come Sebastian,” she said. “You are needed in the conference room.”
Sebastian nodded and allowed Anne to pull him away. There was something about
what he’d witnessed that bothered him. He would have to think on it later.
***** Chapter 16 *****
Carver leaned against the wall in the basement of Garrett’s clinic with his
pants and small clothes pulled half-way down his thighs, eyes mostly shut.
Grant knelt in front of him, hands on his hips, his lips stretched around his
cock. It wasn’t hard to resist the urge to begin thrusting. The boy didn’t have
any experience sucking dick and couldn’t take all of him yet.
That didn’t stop Grant from trying however. Carver kept his hands on the sides
of his head, ready to pull him off, but let him control for the most part. He
didn’t mind the occasional scrape of Grant’s teeth as he took in as much as he
could. His tongue moved restlessly along the shaft as he came back up. He’d
been sucked off by people with a lot more skill but this felt better simply
because he knew Grant wanted it. Carver sighed happily and watched him bob on
his cock.
One of Grant’s hands disappeared and he whined, tugged at his trousers and
looked up at him. He pulled at the laces pausing with the head of Carver’s cock
just inside his mouth, panting slightly. When his stiff length was mostly free
Grant continued. Carver watched his cock slide in and back out, loving every
lick and attempt to take him further. Grant had gotten him off like this before
but Carver decided suddenly that he wanted his arse. Grant looked up at him and
pouted when Carver gently pulled him off.
“Stand up,” Carver ordered.
Grant obeyed, still pouting. “Carver.”
He pulled their bodies flush slipping his hands down the back of Grant’s
trousers. Carver gripped his arse cheeks and leaned slightly to capture his
lips. Grant hummed happily, his lips opening to accept his tongue. Their kisses
were much less sloppy, Grant eager but letting Carver lead him. They were
panting when he broke away, pulling Grant’s lower lip out with his teeth.
“I want your ass,” Carver whispered as he kissed Grant’s neck.
“All yours,” he said breathlessly gripping his arms.
Carver spent a moment kissing and sucking his neck, wishing he didn’t have to
be so careful. He’d love to mark his neck and he thought Grant would thoroughly
enjoy it but the risk of someone seeing it was just not worth it. He pushed
Grant’s trousers down as far as he could, still working on the boy’s neck.
Grant was pliant as Carver turned him and reversed their positions. He held out
a hand, the other settling on Grant’s hip. Grease appeared when Grant covered
his hand briefly. Carver stroked himself, pulling lightly on Grant’s hip. His
arse was stuck out, back arched with his palms flat on the wall. Carver rubbed
around his entrance, pushing a finger in briefly. As many times as they had
done this it was a happy discovery that Grant didn’t mind not being stretched
out first.
He lined his cock up and pushed in slowly. Grant moaned softly. Carver stopped
when they were flush and wrapped his arms around Grant’s chest. After a moment
Carver began rolling his hips. His tight hole felt wonderful. The soft eager
noises he made were beautiful. Carver hugged him tightly and kissed the shell
of his ear.
“I love your ass,” Carver said earnestly. “I love your mouth. I love every
breathless noise I pull out of you. I love you Grant.”
Carver kissed his ear again and moved his hands to Grant’s hips and began
pounding into him. Grant’s noises increased in volume slightly, a breathless
moan escaping every time they were flush. Tension built steadily and he began
thrusting faster.
“Carver…,” Grant managed. “Please…so close…”
He wrapped his arms back around Grant’s chest and pulled him upright, still
rolling his hips as fast as he could. “I’ve got you,” he whispered.
Grant fisted his cock rapidly. His whole body went rigid as he peaked, muscles
clenching around Carver’s cock deliciously. Grant went limp and he supported
them both easily as he chased his own release, listening to Grant’s panting
groans. Carver held them together as he shot seed deep inside of him, slowly
lowering him to the floor after he pulled out. Grant ended up sitting in his
lap breathing heavily and completely relaxed against him.
“Did you mean it?” Grant asked after their breathing had evened out again.
“Yes,” Carver said softly. He rested his chin on Grant’s shoulder and squeezed
him slightly. “I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
“Good,” said Grant happily. There was a soft kiss to his cheek and Grant let
one of his arms rest on top of Carver’s, the other stroking his cheek lightly.
“I love you too.”
As happy as hearing that made him, it also saddened him. “You know we’re
doomed. If I make it through your parents…I’ll leave you alone eventually.”
“Don’t say that,” Grant said softly.
“Grant I’m fifty-one. I’ll…”
“Shush.” Grant caressed his cheek again and continued. “I know Carver. They
can’t take you away from me like they did Karl. I want to enjoy every moment.”
Carver smiled even though it was still odd hearing him speak of Anders’
memories like they were his own. He kissed Grant’s cheek and felt his fingers
brushing against his. They sat quietly for another few minutes, each enjoying
what couldn’t be shown anywhere else.
“Come on,” Carver sighed. “We still have to get ready for that stupid ball.”
“If I had a choice I’d lock us away somewhere and you could fuck me all night,”
Grant said struggling to his feet. “Graham’s been teaching me this neat spell
that’ll help you out a lot.”
“Maker,” Carver grumbled.
Grant was grinning as he turned and offered Carver his hand. Carver shook his
head, unable to help his own small smile as he accepted. He was pulled to his
feet and Grant placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Carver pulled him close and
brought their lips together again. He slipped his tongue through and met
Grant’s as he hummed contentedly. For long moments their tongues slid together,
Grant’s fingers in his hair. Carver wrapped an arm around his waist and the
other drifted to his bare arse.
“As much as you complain…” Grant said in amusement when Carver finally pulled
away.
“It’s not easy keeping up with your needs,” Carver said turning for a rag that
had been set nearby beforehand. “It’s the most pleasant problem I’ve ever had
though. Bend over a little. Let me clean you up.”
He chuckled as he turned and bent at the waist, hands gripping his knees.
Carver was thorough as he wiped the grease from between his cheeks. Neither of
them wanted awkward questions about stains on his trousers. While Grant righted
his clothing he cleaned his cock with the rag and threw it at a nearby bucket.
Garrett had been more than happy to offer them the use of the clinic’s basement
since they were there nearly every day now.
“You know Grant,” Carver said as he pulled up his small clothes. “We can do
this the other way around.”
“I’ve thought about asking,” Grant said. “I do want to know what it feels like
to be inside but…” His cheeks colored and his gaze drifted to his boots as he
scuffed the stone floor. “I just…really like it this way.”
“Don’t be embarrassed because you prefer bottoming,” said Carver lifting his
chin. “I actually prefer being the top. I just wanted you to know that I’m
willing to reverse it.”
“Maybe someday,” said Grant smiling. “Your ass is amazing too.”
“Thanks.” Carver leaned over and kissed him before pulling up his trousers.
“We should get going,” Grant said still smiling. “We’ll need to change.”
“Don’t remind me,” Carver muttered.
“You look fine,” he said reassuringly. “Come on.”
Carver grabbed his sword and followed Grant to the stairs. He wasn’t looking
forward to a fancy nobleman’s party. Garrett had enthusiastically warned him
with stories of parties he’d endured in Kirkwall. What had him worried however
was that he would be unarmed. If the soldiers did their jobs right everyone
else would be as well but it still bothered him. He would just have to be
watchful.
***** Chapter 17 *****
Carver felt like a fool. Dress armor would have been preferable over the silly
clothing he’d been forced into. The pants were entirely too tight but at least
the shirt hung down to the middle of his thighs. Thankfully there were no
ruffles or puffy bits on the shirt but the striped colors made up for it. He
didn’t like the sash that had been tied around his waist either.
He had been following Grant around the ball room for the better part of an hour
now. Grant was wearing his typical noble attire and Carver found, after having
gotten used to seeing him in rather tight trousers and simple tunics, that he
hated it more than he had before. Dinner had been uncomfortable and having to
watch Grant dance with a few of the guest’s daughters had him in an extremely
sour mood. So far this had been every bit as horrendous as Garrett had claimed
it would be.
The only good thing about the whole evening was that aside from a couple of
people that they shared a table with during dinner no one had spoken to him.
Carver didn’t particularly care if it had been his growly responses, his
Fereldan accent or the glare that had taken up residence on his face. Like he
was on the streets of Starkhaven, Grant was polite to the people that spoke to
him. More of the nobles seemed interested in him than the regular citizens
were.
Bits of conversation could be heard during a lull in the music and he followed
Grant to the back of the room where the tables were still set up. Grant sighed
as he slumped into a chair. “As grumpy as you look I thought you’d be scaring
more of them away.”
“Can we leave yet,” Carver grumbled.
“Soon I hope,” Grant replied without looking back at him. “I hate these things.
This is better than being stuck with my parents though.”
“Stuck with your parents?”
“Sure,” said Grant turning in the chair slightly. “Father made sure I knew the
etiquette but he didn’t want me out of his sight.”
Carver glanced around but didn’t see either Sebastian or Anne. A high pitched
scream cut off the hum of conversation. He looked around quickly and saw one of
the balconies with the railing hanging off. Grant was already on his feet and
trying to push through the crowd. Carver caught up in a couple of quick
strides.
“Stay close,” Carver said as he pushed past Grant. “Move! Out of the way!”
His voice rang throughout the room, carrying over a sudden burst of whispers.
More voices could be heard as he shoved his way through the crowd clearing a
path for Grant. They broke through the knot of people into a little clear spot
surrounding the young lady that had fallen. He recognized her as one of the
girls Grant had danced with.
Grant didn’t hesitate to kneel beside her, ignoring the man at her other side.
She lay spread out on her back, unconscious and breathing shallowly. He closed
his eyes and his hands glowed. The gasp of the gathered crowd was almost
audible. The man kneeling across from Grant stood quickly and backed away.
Carver clenched his hands into fists and turned a slow circle, making sure he
met every eye on the way.
“Straighten her legs,” Grant ordered absently.
Carver quickly knelt beside her and pulled her legs together. He noticed that
Grant had moved her arms to rest at her sides. Standing up again he tried to
watch everyone at once. The crowd parted and Sebastian entered the clear spot
Grant had created with Anne at his heels. His eyes grew wide as he watched his
son. Anne pressed a hand to her stomach and gripped Sebastian’s shoulder with
the other.
“It’s not enough,” Grant whimpered quietly. “Please…”
He thought Grant was unaware of the audience he had. Sebastian’s gaze finally
met his and Carver stared back. The girl’s groan diverted their attention.
Grant was wavering slightly but he wore a pleased smile.
“Is she all right Grant?” Anne asked stepping up beside Sebastian.
“Lydia is fine,” he said pushing slowly to his feet. “Um…Carver…”
Carver steadied him and said authoritatively, “It’s time to go Grant.”
“Yes…I don’t feel very well,” Grant said leaning heavily on his arm.
“Take him to his room,” Sebastian said. “I will join you as soon as I am able.”
Carver nodded curtly and turned. The crowd parted before him as Sebastian began
barking orders behind him. He ignored the commotion and watched the people
around him. None seemed too keen to get any closer. Grant’s steps were unsteady
and he looked ready to pass out. Carver paused to sweep him up and hurried out.
The halls were nearly empty and he just managed to keep himself from running
through them. His instincts were telling him to flee the castle and just keep
going. Instead he hurried to Grant’s room and gently laid him out on his bed.
Carver loosened his belt and the buttons at his neck, pausing to listen for his
breathing. It was steady and strong, his eyes closed in sleep. Some of his
worry eased but the rest had him pacing the room, wishing he had his sword.
The door slamming open had him crouched, and ready to rush whoever had thrown
it open. Anne raced across the room without a glance at him and sat beside
Grant on the bed. She patted his cheek lightly but he didn’t respond.
“He’s sleeping,” Carver said before she could actually wake him. “He’ll be fine
with rest.”
Her gaze snapped to him. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I’d guess he didn’t have enough mana,” said Carver stepping closer. “Or he
pulled too much too quickly. Casting powerful spells can sap a mage’s energy
quickly.”
Anne turned back to Grant and held his hand between hers. “You knew.”
“Yes. I knew.”
“And yet…”Her voice trailed off and she looked up at him, puzzled.
“I’ve spent most of my life around mages,” Carver said calmly. “My father, my
brother, my twin. Five or six years in Kirkwall as a Templar recruit. Wandering
Thedas afterwards escorting apostates to the strongholds. Mages don’t frighten
me. You don’t seem very surprised.”
“My mother often spoke of the son she’d lost,” said Anne glancing at him. “She
warned me constantly of the curse her blood carried.”
“Magic is not a curse,” he said harshly.
“No,” she said calmly looking up at him. “It’s a terrible gift, a burden to all
who bare it. I do not fear my son. I fear losing my son.”
“The circles are all disbanded,” Carver said. “I’ll take him to Antiva or
Ferelden if Sebastian won’t see reason. He won’t be subjected to what mages
were forced to endure before.”
“You should change,” she said turning back to Grant. “I love my husband but I
fear what might come of this.”
He didn’t want to leave Grant but knew his mother wouldn’t do anything foolish.
Carver hurried to his room and changed as fast as he could. He also spared a
few minutes to stuff his pack full of his clothes and the few other things he
had scattered around the room. With his sword strapped to his back, Carver left
his pack next to the door and went back to Grant’s room.
Anne still sat at his bedside but she looked up at him briefly as he entered.
Since he expected a hasty exit might be necessary, Carver folded some of
Grant’s clothes and tied them neatly into one of his shirts. This was set on
the desk chair where it could be grabbed easily. There was nothing left to do
but wait.
***** Chapter 18 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Grant coughed as he woke. He had an awful taste in his mouth and he looked
around a little confused.
“There we are,” Graham said smiling.
His mentor sat next to him holding a small vial. He could see Carver standing
behind Graham frowning deeply, his brows pulled down in what he hoped was
concern. Grant noticed that he wasn’t lying flat and looked up to find his head
pillowed in his mother’s lap.
“Thank the Maker,” she said with a relieved smile.
“What was that stuff?” Grant asked as he sat up.
“Something that’s a little hard to come by,” Graham said standing. He pocketed
the vial and moved to stand next to Carver. “I told your mother that you’d be
fine but…mother’s worry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Grant?” Anne said.
“I…didn’t want to be thrown out,” Grant said studying his comforter. “Father
was already ashamed of me…that would just make it worse.”
“Haven’t seen Sebastian yet,” Graham said. “The soldiers that had been sent to
fetch me nearly broke down my door. That was around an hour ago.”
“You’ve been sleeping for at least two,” said Carver. He was frowning at the
doorway when Grant looked up at him.
He looked to the door and scooted to the edge of the bed. “You’re not…mad at me
are you?” Grant asked hesitantly.
“Of course not,” he replied irritably.
“Carver has itchy feet,” Graham said glancing at the doorway. “To be perfectly
honest so do I.”
“The whole of Starkhaven will know by morning,” Anne said softly.
“What’s going to happen to me?” said Grant in a small voice.
“From past experience you’ll be ran off or lynched,” said Carver.
“The war is far from over,” said Graham. “We have safe havens now but it will
take the people years to forget what the Chantry taught them. Sebastian might
be able to calm most of his citizens if he decides to be reasonable.”
Grant glanced at Anne and back to Graham. His mentor gave him a tiny smile and
said, “Your mother is pretty sharp. She confronted me the instant I walked in.”
“Sebastian’s not stupid either,” Carver said his frown deepening. “I really
wish…”
“Nothing for it now,” Graham sighed when Carver trailed off.
“Maybe we should just go,” said Grant standing.
The door opened before he’d finished speaking. Sebastian shut it behind him and
leaned back wearily. “No one is going to be leaving,” he said.
“Father,” Grant said taking a step towards him.
“Be silent please,” Sebastian said with his stern frown. “I will speak with you
privately.” Grant scowled at him but he’d turned his frown on Graham and
Carver. “I should have you both thrown in the dungeons.”
“No Sebastian,” Anne said stepping forward next to Grant.
“Do you know who this man is Anne?” Sebastian said gesturing at Graham. “This
man who has been teaching our son for four years.”
“Oh dear,” Graham said mildly. “I think I’ve been found out.”
“Spare me your glib tongue Hawke,” he said with barely restrained fury. “What
nonsense have you been filling his head with?”
“Nonsense?” Graham said arching an eyebrow. “Teaching him to use and control
his gift is nonsense?” He grinned and took a step forward. “Or are you
referring to giving him a peek into your past? Telling him what you’ve
conveniently forgotten or simply never believed?”
“I will not be drawn into this old argument,” Sebastian said coldly after a
moment. “I don’t know how you survived the first time but you live now by my
grace alone. Your lessons will be strictly supervised and when Grant no longer
requires your knowledge you will be escorted out of the city.”
“Very well my Prince,” said Graham rolling his eyes as he stepped back.
Sebastian glared at him for a moment before turning to Carver. “I trusted you.”
His voice was cold and hard, his expression the epitome of fury. Carver gazed
back, seemingly calm and unashamed. Grant took a nervous step forward but
Anne’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“I’ve been watching you,” said Sebastian stepping away from the door towards
Carver. “The things I saw tonight have only confirmed my suspicions. What have
you done to my son?”
“I haven’t done anything to him,” Carver said his calm façade falling apart as
he glared back. “What we choose to do when no one else is watching is between
us.”
“Have you no shame?” Sebastian hissed furiously. “Grant is sixteen!”
“Old enough to figure out what he likes,” Graham said. “How old were you
Sebastian? Younger than Grant is if I remember correctly.”
“Nadia wasn’t old enough to be my mother,” Sebastian snapped tuning his glare
back onto Graham. “This discussion is not about me. It’s about my son being
seduced and used for his amusement.”
Grant wasn’t sure who looked angrier, Graham or Carver. He hurried forward
hoping he could prevent a disaster. Anne moved with him, veering towards
Sebastian.
“Stop Sebastian,” Anne said sternly. “Perhaps you should listen to Grant
explain.”
“You knew?” he said incredulously.
“Yes,” she replied. “I discovered their…relationship by chance. Their feelings
are genuine.”
“Anne, this is unacceptable,” Sebastian said firmly. “Carver is…”
“It’s perfectly all right for Elle to sneak off with that big soldier.” Grant
interrupted hotly. “You do know that he visits her room right? Douglas gets an
approving smile when he finds love. You look the other way when Elle spends all
day in the training yard drooling over her inappropriate lover but you threaten
to put mine in the dungeon. Stop leading me on and admit that you hate me!”
“I have explained…” retorted Sebastian moving around Anne.
“Graham didn’t teach me how to save Lydia,” Grant said softly.
“He must have,” Sebastian said after a moment.
“No, he didn’t,” said Grant stepping forward. “I’ve had dream after dream of
healing the refugees in Darktown. Hours and hours of nothing but healing anyone
who walked through my doors. Seneschal Bran, some of the prostitutes from the
Rose, countless nobles that didn’t want their infidelity known. I remember
healing every one of Hawke’s companions.”
Sebastian took a step back and shook his head. “He told you of these things.”
“Maker your thick sometimes,” Graham scoffed. “Anders couldn’t possibly have
told me about every single person that he healed. That would take literally
years.”
“I know how Anders died Father,” Grant said his voice shaking. “You hated me
then. Why wouldn’t you hate me now?”
“No,” Sebastian said in a small voice shaking his head again. “I don’t hate
you.”
“Grant,” Anne said stepping forward. “What are you saying?”
He took a shuddering breath and tried to calm himself. “I knew…because Anders
knew. The dreams. They’re Anders’ memories.”
“How is that possible?” whispered Sebastian.
“The Maker has a grand sense of humor Sebastian,” Graham said cheerfully. “Your
son has been blessed with Anders’ soul.”
Sebastian shook his head again in the stunned silence.
“Come Sebastian,” Anne said turning him towards the door. “Let us go to your
study.” Sebastian swallowed hard and nodded, taking her hand. “Please join us,”
she said looking over her shoulder. “Fifteen minutes or so.”
“Yes Mother,” Grant said softly.
He watched her lead his thunderstruck father out of his room. Grant took in
another shaky breath and felt Carver’s hand at his shoulder. In a way he felt
as shocked as Sebastian. There were no more secrets to keep. His parents knew
everything now.
“Confession time Grant,” Graham said gently. “From what Carver’s told me, you
couldn’t have healed that girl without a little help.”
“I called to the spirits,” he said slowly turning to face them. “I had hoped
for a spirit of compassion. Normally they are the ones who respond…”
“But?” Carver said frowning.
“I…think it was Justice…”
“Maker,” Carver said irritably. He pulled Grant close and wrapped his arms
around him. “Grand my ass.”
Graham chuckled as Grant returned his embrace. “We’re still alive brother,” he
said cheerfully.
“And Sebastian might still change his mind,” Carver said ominously.
Chapter End Notes
     Another cliffhanger. Sorry. =/
***** Chapter 19 *****
Sebastian sat in an overstuffed chair in his study. Discovering that Grant was
a mage had made sense of his odd behavior and the sudden insistence on studying
with Graham Harrison all the time. Grant’s teacher obviously being a mage had
made him realize just who had been teaching his son. Sebastian wasn’t happy
with Hawke’s presence in Starkhaven. Despite Hawke’s rebellious nature he could
think of no one more qualified to help Grant. Carver’s unapologetic admission
still infuriated him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about them?” he asked softly.
“Because he makes Grant happy,” Anne said crossing the room with a glass. She
sat on the arm of the chair and handed it to him. “I still think Carver is too
old for him but…”
“It cannot continue,” Sebastian said. He sipped at the wine and sat back in his
chair.
“Sebastian, he is ready to flee,” Anne sighed. “If you deny him this we will
certainly lose him.”
He sighed and pressed his face into her side. If Grant truly did have Anders’
soul then it was inevitable. Sebastian wasn’t sure he believed them though.
“Please Sebastian,” said Anne. She rubbed his back and he sighed again. “I do
not want to lose our son.”
“What would you have me do?” said Sebastian.
“Let them be.”
“Very well my love.” He sat up straight and took another sip of wine. “I do not
believe it to be wise but I will not…hinder them.”
“What of the nobles?”
“Lord and Lady Morrison are grateful of course. The others…it’s too soon to
tell. I wanted to keep Grant here for a time. At least until Captain Treven can
figure out exactly what happened. I fear some will believe Grant caused Lydia’s
fall somehow.”
“He couldn’t possibly have caused it. Grant and Carver were at the tables.”
“I don’t believe he did. Very few here have actually encountered a mage
however. They will act on tales of the fighting elsewhere and the Chantry’s
teachings. Anne, you must help me convince him that staying here is for the
best.”
“Grant is young Sebastian. He is not foolish. Carver has already frightened him
enough. I believe Grant will agree to stay at the castle or he will flee
Starkhaven altogether.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t want him to think…Do you know of the dreams he
mentioned?”
“Only that he has been dreaming of Anders’ life. They gave me no details. He
may have confided in Graham. Grant was very shaken that morning…”
“What morning?” Sebastian asked.
“The morning I discovered their…intimacy,” Anne said standing. She walked to
the decanter and pulled another glass from the shelf. “I was drawn by Grant’s
cries…frightened yet sad. Carver was already there, completely naked with Grant
clinging to him.”
“How did you know Carver wasn’t the cause?” Sebastian asked frowning.
“I didn’t,” she replied. “The things people say in anger are often unguarded. I
was furious. I asked him much the same question you did. He spoke without
thought, nothing he hasn’t wanted me to. Grant begged my silence.”
Sebastian nodded slowly as she crossed the room. Anne sat on the arm of his
chair and silence fell. He tried to clear his mind. After a few minutes had
passed there was a brief knock on the mostly shut door and it was pushed open
seconds later. Hawke strode in, looking as serious as he had been every other
time Sebastian had seen him in the last four years.
He bowed slightly before taking the chair directly opposite him. Grant followed
him in and slumped down on the love seat. That Grant had chosen the seat
furthest from him and closest to the door did not escape Sebastian’s notice. He
had changed clothes to the peasant’s attire he seemed to prefer and slouched
sullenly. Carver pushed the door mostly shut and stood stoically behind Grant.
“So,” Hawke said into the silence. “Here we are.”
“Just make your demands,” Grant grumbled. “Then we can sneak out.”
“Do you truly wish to leave?” Sebastian said softly.
“No,” he mumbled. “This is my home. I don’t want to be stuck at the castle
again.”
“Grant,” Sebastian said. “You’ll be safer here.”
“I’ll be under your thumb,” he snapped irritably. “Exactly where you want me so
you can make sure I turn out exactly how you want me to.”
“Grant,” Hawke said in frustration. Grant huffed and sunk further into the love
seat. “We have an opportunity here Sebastian.”
“I’m listening,” said Sebastian frowning slightly.
“Thirty years ago the Templars would have already hauled Grant off. Despite
your best efforts the general population knows what Grant looks like. They know
he’s kind and polite. If they don’t already, they’ll soon know he’s a mage. It
sounds as if you’d prefer Grant remained in Starkhaven?”
“I would.”
“This is what I propose. Grant remains here at the castle while you calm your
people. When the fuss dies down, things go back the way they were. If there is
dissention about a mage walking about the streets tell them Carver was a
Templar. The people will hopefully see that Grant is just as kind and polite,
that being a mage hasn’t made him crazy or volatile.”
“And what of you? You have taught him for four years.”
“Sebastian, I’ve been living here for ten years. Most of the people in the poor
section know I’m a mage. They’ll protect me. Just like they always have.” He
frowned and Hawke smirked. “My clinic isn’t entirely free. I charge a pittance
so that I can eat. The poor appreciate it none the less. I learned a lot from
Anders.”
“Will you come to the castle to teach Grant?” Anne asked.
“Every morning,” Hawke said. “I’ll show up bright and early. If you’ll provide
us with a private space I’ll give him lessons until lunch. He’s not as
distracted in the morning.”
Carver huffed in annoyance and scowled at his brother.
Sebastian held back a scowl of his own and turned to Grant. “Is this
acceptable?”
“I want Carver moved to my room,” said Grant defiantly.
“I do not want everyone to know…” Sebastian said frowning.
“They’ll know anyway when I wake up in his room,” Grant interrupted. “I’m tired
of sneaking around. Elle…”
“Just…be discreet please,” said Sebastian holding up a hand.
“Thank you,” Grant said. “Can I go to bed now? I’m still very tired.”
“Yes,” Sebastian said. “Hawke, if you would remain for a few more minutes.”
“Of course,” he said settling back in the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow Grant.”
“I’ll be here,” Grant replied irritably as he stood.
Grant strode to the door and Carver followed after a little wave to Hawke.
Sebastian stood and closed the door when they had left. He turned and slowly
walked back to his chair. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then believe Grant,” he replied shortly. “He can tell you all sorts of things
that he shouldn’t know.”
“How do I know that he’s not just passing on information from you and Carver?”
“Would Carver or I know about the time he spent in Amaranthine with the
Wardens?” Hawke asked standing. “Would we know exactly what happened when he
joined with Justice? Would we know of some of the atrocities inflicted on him
during the year he spent in solitary confinement in Fereldan’s Circle? Grant
has told me exactly how Anders rigged the Chantry to explode at the moment he
chose. Anders was my best friend and he didn’t trust me with that information.
Believe me or not. The only reason I care at all about you is because you’re
his father. You’d be wise not to make the same mistake with Grant that you did
with Anders.”
He watched Hawke walk calmly to the door. There was no look back, he simply
opened it and left. Sebastian sat there for a moment his mind and his emotions
in turmoil. Slowly he stood and looked to Anne.
“I will be in the Chantry,” he said softly.
Anne nodded and slid into the seat he’d vacated.
***** Chapter 20 *****
Grant had fallen into his bed and was asleep almost immediately. Carver dropped
his pack before loosening Grant’s trousers. After the lamps were blown out he
settled on the other side of the bed, his sword on the floor beside him, still
dressed with his trousers also loosened. The end of this day had not turned out
at all as he’d expected. All of the secrets they’d been keeping had been
revealed in one form or another. Carver was thankful to be alive and completely
flabbergasted to be sleeping in Grant’s bed.
Rather than stare at the ceiling, Carver rolled to his side and scooted closer
to Grant. He couldn’t help his nervous energy. His instincts were still telling
him to flee. No matter how calm Sebastian seemed Carver suspected that he
hadn’t wanted him anywhere near Grant. He scooted a little closer and Grant
rolled towards him. Carver tried to clear his mind, focusing on the peaceful
mage in front of him until he’d fallen asleep as well.
When morning arrived after a restless night Carver found Grant mostly awake and
snuggled against him. Neither of them broke the quiet for a while, until he
felt a hand sliding under his small clothes. Carver snorted in amusement. Grant
rose slightly and grinned, hand rubbing his cock. He pulled Grant down with one
hand and let the other drift down his body.
Kisses were exchanged and hands wandered under clothing. Eventually their
trousers ended up in a tangle with the blankets at the end of the bed. Grant
straddled his hips and rocked with Carver’s hands on his hips. There was no
reason to hurry. Both of his parents knew Carver was here. If Sebastian hadn’t
relented Grant would likely have spent the entire night in his room and been
unapologetic about it. They both remained fairly quiet however and lay entwined
together afterwards.
“Have we missed breakfast yet?” Grant asked lethargically.
“Not yet,” Carver said. “We’d better get a move on though. Where am I supposed
to eat now?”
“With the soldiers,” sighed Grant. He sat up and pulled his shirt off. “I don’t
think Father would believe eating together is very discreet.”
“Neither is sleeping in the same room,” Carver said sitting up as well. “Or
finding our clothes in the same bin.”
“As long as we’re not seen holding hands or kissing or things like that,” Grant
said rooting through the blankets for their trousers.
“So we just have to keep our distance when we’re not alone,” said Carver
digging through his pack. “Fair enough. I’ll get something to eat and be
waiting for you outside the dining hall.”
“All right,” Grant said after dropping their slept in clothes in the dirty bin.
“See you in a bit.”
Grant kissed his cheek quickly on the way by. Carver watched him pull clothing
out of his wardrobe while he tied up his trousers. He turned and Carver smiled
at him before settling his shirt on his shoulders. His sword came next and
Carver waited a moment to open the door, making sure Grant had his trousers up
at least. He made his way to the soldier’s cafeteria and listened carefully.
There was nothing official on the cause of Lydia Morrison’s fall but
speculation was abundant. There were rumors of sabotage, sloppy carpentry when
the ball room had been renovated recently and even a few that thought maybe
she’d been helped through the balcony rail. It was these people that Carver
paid the most attention to. Several names were mentioned but none of them
Grant’s. So far there were no whispers of him and Grant but he knew that would
take a little while longer to circulate.
He didn’t have to wait long for Grant and the boy’s scowl deepened his frown.
“What now?” he said quietly.
Grant turned down the hall and he followed. “Father still insists on
supervision. Douglas will deal with his morning duties while he watches. On top
of that we get to spend every morning in the dungeons.”
“Garrett’s not going to like that,” Carver muttered. “Neither do I.”
“I hate it,” Grant snapped. “Is he planning on coming with when he deigns to
let me out of the castle again?”
“I hope not. It’s not going to be easy to discuss a few things.”
“They’ll be discussed anyway. Father can just deal with it. He knows everything
else. Hopefully Graham can get him to realize the difference between a Spirit
Healer and being possessed.”
“And if he can’t we’ll be headed for Antiva anyway.”
“I know,” Grant sighed. “I don’t really want to leave but I will if I have to.
I just…wish he’d accept me.”
Carver gripped his shoulder a moment and they finished the trip in silence.
Grant led the way down into the bowels of the castle. Torches in sconces along
the narrow hallway were soon the only light source. They were escorted by a
guardsman to a room that looked like it might have had an unsavory purpose
until very recently. Hooked pegs ran along the wall at even intervals and there
were marks on the floor where it looked like heavy objects might have sat for
years before being hastily removed.
He made sure the door was left open, much to the guardsmen’s irritation, and
stood blocking the doorway watching the hall for his brother and Sebastian.
When they did appear, Garrett was glaring and Sebastian was scowling. The same
guardsman that had led them here made a hasty retreat after a quick fist to his
heart.
“Really Sebastian?” Garrett growled. “The dungeons?”
“The walls are solid and will not burn,” he replied semi calmly. “It’s the
safest place for everyone.”
“I learned in an open forest,” Garrett said through clenched teeth.
“Even apprentices in the Gallows learned on the upper floors,” Carver added
stepping aside. Garrett brushed by him angrily and Sebastian looked moderately
outraged when he blocked the door again.
“What’s the meaning of this Carver,” Sebastian said coolly.
“A few rules, Prince,” he replied in a demanding tone. “If you insist on
staying.” Sebastian frowned but motioned him to continue. “Do not interrupt. Do
not go past the doorway. Down here if Garrett or I tell you to leave or move
you’d damn well better do it. Mistakes are bound to happen.”
His frown was deep and his sapphire eyes cold but Sebastian nodded curtly.
Carver turned and stood just to the side of the door, watching to make sure
Sebastian didn’t move any further into the room. Garrett and Grant stood next
to the opposite wall and only a soft murmur of voices could be heard. He kept
his smile to himself knowing that Sebastian could also not make out any of
their words. Carver crossed his arms over his chest and settled against the
wall to watch and wait.
*
There hadn’t been much time the night before to explain exactly what he’d done
to Graham. The plan he’d put forth to Sebastian had been hastily discussed and
explanations would wait until morning no matter where they ended up. Graham had
pulled him as far from the door as possible. Grant wasn’t exactly sure why his
father didn’t leave the doorway but he was rather grateful. Despite his
cavalier words in the hall upstairs Grant really didn’t want to cause Sebastian
further stress by admitting he thought the spirit that had possessed Anders had
helped him last night.
“What makes you think it was the same spirit?” Graham asked quietly.
“His voice,” Grant said after a moment of thought. “He…felt…familiar but not
like any spirit or demon I’ve come across so far.”
“A unique spirit,” said Graham thoughtfully. “Changed irrevocably by his host
and pulled back to the Fade upon his death. What did he say?”
“You have my power. I felt it, knew exactly what to do…how I could keep her
alive and then repair the rest of the damage the fall had done. When he left…I
felt like passing out.”
“This probably goes without saying but,” Graham said cautiously. “Be careful.
Justice didn’t seem to be very nice the last few years Anders lived.”
“He’s the source of so many nightmares,” Grant said evenly. “I’m positive it
was the same spirit though. It was brief but…he didn’t seem scary like my
memories. More like…”
“Sad?” Graham offered when he trailed off.
“No,” Grant said shaking his head. “Almost repentant.”
“Interesting,” said Graham rubbing the scar along his jaw. “I wonder what
Justice might feel he needs forgiven for.”
“I don’t know,” said Grant. “I feel I should ask his forgiveness. I’m the one
who changed him.”
“Don’t dwell on it Grant,” Graham said gently. “What’s done is done. Anders did
what he did to give every mage born after a fighting chance at life. I believe
Justice, one way or another, gave him the courage to stand and fight. Let’s
begin.”
Grant took a deep breath and nodded.
***** Chapter 21 *****
Not even a week had passed and Grant was already fuming restlessly. He hated
being in the dungeons every morning and his father watching from the doorway.
Grant felt pressured with Sebastian looming and naturally was having trouble
because of it. Graham was becoming extremely frustrated though whether it was
with him or his father Grant couldn’t say.
Besides his performance anxiety boredom was proving to be Grant’s biggest
problem. Where he would either read for pleasure or study when he’d been stuck
in the castle before, now he would rather be alone with Carver. The discretion
Sebastian had asked of them was a little trying on him. Grant had continued to
dream of his former life and there were many things he’d dreamed of and a few
things Graham had taught him that he wanted to experience firsthand. With
opportunity for that sort of activity limited to bedtime, Grant found most
afternoons and evenings intolerable.
Morning lessons and lunch were now behind them and Grant wandered aimlessly
through the large gardens with Carver following close by. His wandering became
a bit less random when he noticed how empty they were. Grant stepped off the
path and behind a large tree when he’d reached one of the dead ends. A large
hedge shielded them from the city beyond but the only cover from the path was
the tree. Grant knew there wouldn’t be any undressing involved but there was
still a bit of fun to be had. He tugged on Carver’s vest after a grin, leaning
against the trunk.
“This isn’t very discreet,” Carver said as he allowed himself to be pulled
closer.
“The maids were probably gossiping about us the first day we slept the entire
night together,” Grant said. “The rumors will have circulated throughout the
servants and a good portion of the soldiers by now. If we are caught, they’ll
just have a few more things to talk about.”
“I think that’s what Sebastian wanted to avoid,” said Carver.
“I really don’t want to discuss my father at the moment,” Grant said with a
scowl.
“I don’t want to either but we’re going to have to at some point,” he replied
with a deep frown. “Garrett’s going to lose his temper. Probably soon.”
“Can we talk later?” Grant said failing to keep the whine from his voice. “I
want to kiss and touch. Maybe try a few of those spells Graham was teaching
me.”
“No magic,” Carver said firmly. “Save that for the bedroom.”
Grant pouted for a moment then said, “What about the other bit?”
Carver looked around and upon seeing no one pulled his sword off his back and
stuck it in the ground nearby. He leaned down slightly, one hand beside his
head and the other resting on his hip. “I don’t fancy getting caught or being
watched.” Their lips brushed together briefly and he continued softly. “You’ve
been teasing me all afternoon though.”
“You noticed,” Grant said grinning.
“How could I not. You know I’m back there trying not to stare anyway.”
“I’m bored.” Grant shrugged and pulled up Carver’s shirt enough to slip his
hands under. “Are you sure I can’t use magic.”
“Yes.”
Grant suddenly had Carver’s lips on his, tongue pushing through in a demanding
kiss. He moaned softly and ran his hands up Carver’s sides. His cock had been
at least half hard to begin with but Carver’s hand at his crotch, cupping and
rubbing, made his trousers very uncomfortable very quickly. Grant slid his
hands around to Carver’s stomach and began working at his laces. Carver pulled
away just enough to let him breathe and yanked at the laces on his trousers.
“Suck me,” Carver whispered when both of their cocks were free. “But don’t tug
yourself off.” He smiled at Grant’s whine and kissed him softly. “Don’t worry.
You’ll like what I have in mind.”
He nodded and they kissed again before Grant knelt. Carver took a small step
backwards and leaned against the tree with both hands. Grant had just enough
room. He took in Carver’s cock and gripped his thighs. While he still couldn’t
take in the larger man’s entire length he had learned what pleased him. Grant
concentrated on keeping his teeth from scraping the tender flesh, rubbing his
tongue along the underside, sucking on the head and poking his tongue into the
slit. Carver watched him, breath steadily increasing. Carver’s hips jerked
forward when he came. Grant gagged on his cock and he pulled out quickly, ropes
of seed landing on his face as he coughed. His fingers carded through Grant’s
short hair a couple of times before he straightened and knelt in front of him.
“Sorry,” Carver said apologetically swiping at the mess.
“It’s all right,” Grant said grinning as he took deep breaths. “I’ll get all of
you down my throat without choking on it at some point.”
“There’s no rush,” said Carver.
“Can I tug off now?”
“Think you can stand?”
“Probably,” Grant said feeling a little confused. “What did… oh!”
Carver gave him that small smile and gestured for him to get up. Grant pushed
himself up, knees a little weak from his coughing fit and excitement. He leaned
against the tree and Carver scooted forward a little his hands coming to rest
on Grant’s hips, holding them against the trunk. His cock stood out stiffly and
Carver licked the end before it was engulfed. Grant gasped and thumped his head
lightly.Half remembered dreams didn’t prepare him in the slightest for how it
would actually feel to have someone’s mouth around his cock. After realizing
the dreams for what they were, it didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t seriously
considered asking Carver to reverse their roles. Even though Grant had no real
comparison he knew he liked receiving more than thrusting. Anders had been much
more submissive with his male partners than Grant had been so far but he’d
relished the role in his previous life. He watched his cock disappear, felt
Carver’s tongue and enjoyed the hot wetness surrounding his prick for the first
time ever.
“Carver,” Grant groaned softly tugging on his hair lightly. “Gonna…”
His hips tried to jerk forwards but Carver held him tight to the tree. That
didn’t stop the seed that pulsed out of his cock or the gasp as the tension
that had built quickly released. Grant leaned heavily against the tree trunk as
he panted, watching Carver turn and spit his seed to the grass.
“Thank you,” Grant said slowly sinking to a crouch.
“You’re welcome,” Carver said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I
still prefer it the other way around.”
“I think I…”
“Lord Grant!”
“Shit,” Carver exclaimed softly. “Hurry.”
The calls continued as they hurriedly righted clothing. It was much closer when
Grant ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Carver was sheathing
his sword on his back and gestured. He stepped out from behind the tree, trying
to appear casual as he crossed back to the stone path. One of the maid servants
was looking around and calling out. When she saw him at the end she trotted
closer.
“Please pardon the interruption, Lord,” she said deferentially with a deep
curtsey. “Your presence has been requested in the throne room.”
“Really?” Grant said in surprise. “By who?”
“Prince Vael, my Lord. I believe Lord and Lady Morrison are also present.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right there,” said Grant politely.
She curtseyed again and hurried off. Carver shrugged at his glance and Grant
led the way out of the gardens and through the castle wondering why he’d been
summoned. Just before he entered the throne room Grant turned to Carver.
“Do I look all right?” he asked anxiously. Considering what they’d been doing a
few minutes ago he wanted to make sure there was no obvious evidence.
“A little red faced but that’s explainable,” Carver said evenly. “If he figures
it out we’ll both be in trouble this time.”
Grant didn’t find that very reassuring but smiled anyway. He pushed open the
side door and crossed the room. Sebastian was sitting on the simple throne at
one end, an elbow resting on the arm and his chin propped on that hand. Grant
recognized the two people standing at the bottom of the raised dais his father
sat on as Lydia’s parents. He stopped a short distance away and bowed politely
to them.
“You wished to see me Father?” Grant asked turning to him.
“Grant,” Sebastian said gesturing to the noble couple standing not far away.
“This is Lord and Lady Morrison. They wished to speak with you.”
“Thank you lad,” Lord Morrison said warmly with one arm outstretched. “My only
child lives thanks to your… talents.”
“We’re very grateful,” Lady Morrison added.
“You’re welcome,” Grant said surprised but smiling as he shook hands with the
Lord.
“We’ll do what we can to help Prince Vael calm the city,” Lord Morrison said
patting his hand before letting go. “We are in your debt.”
Grant was struck speechless but smiled and bowed slightly.
“If you will wait in my study I’d like to speak with you as well Grant,”
Sebastian said evenly.
“Yes Father,” Grant replied feeling his good mood plummeting.
***** Chapter 22 *****
Chapter Notes
     A little short but I think we're finally getting somewhere. =)
Carver stood by the door while Grant flopped into the chair in front of
Sebastian’s desk. He hoped Grant’s father wasn’t aiming for another argument
but he wasn’t very hopeful. No matter what Sebastian had to say he planned on
bringing up his insistence on being present while Grant practiced in the
mornings.
Many people would say Garrett Hawke didn’t have a temper but Carver knew
better. It just took quite a bit to actually get him angry. Sebastian wasn’t
his brother’s favorite person in the first place and Grant’s performance
anxiety in front of his father was really starting to annoy him. Carver wasn’t
thrilled with his constant presence either.
They only had to wait a few minutes before Sebastian joined them. He sat
heavily into his chair and sighed. “The railing was rotten. It must have been
missed during the remodel. The nobles are nervous. They have not spoken openly
against you however.”
“What happens if they start?” Grant asked softly.
“Then… you will have to leave,” Sebastian sighed. “I do not believe it will
come to that however. You will have to remain here at the castle for a while
longer.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want…” Grant began irritably.
“Please,” Sebastian interrupted holding his hand up. “I don’t want to argue.”
Grant huffed and scowled but remained silent.
“Does that include arguing with my brother?” Carver asked after a few moments.
Sebastian looked up at him frowning with an eyebrow arched. “I have no interest
in your brother what so ever besides what he can teach my son. The sooner he
leaves Starkhaven the better.”
“What?” said Carver feeling stunned.
“That’s not what we agreed on Father,” Grant said as he shot to his feet.
“I understand it will take years,” Sebastian said evenly. “I still do not want
him in Starkhaven.”
“You still don’t get it,” Carver growled angrily. “The only reason the three of
us are still here is because Grant doesn’t want to leave. Do you really think
Garrett enjoys being around the man who almost killed him? A man who tricked
and schemed to get the job done?”
Grant had backed away and was staring at him wide eyed and frowning. Sebastian
had sat back in his chair, a shocked expression there and gone just as quickly.
Carver took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists and continued
furiously.
“And while we’re at it, I don’t like being around you either. You left him for
the crows and I found what was left! I built his pyre. I prayed over him. I
watched until there was nothing left. I took his ashes and scattered them. Me,
Carver Hawke. Former Templar and unbeliever did what the perfectly pious
Sebastian Vael didn’t. What really pisses me off is you’d have left Garrett the
same way.”
Silence descended on the room like a thick blanket. Grant’s gaze moved to his
father, still wide eyed and his frown deepening. Carver met Sebastian’s eyes
until the Prince looked away. He lowered his head to look at the top of his
desk and gestured at the door.
“Please leave,” Sebastian said softly.
Carver turned immediately and stalked out. His fists were clenched tightly as
he stopped a few feet from the door to wait for Grant. He hadn’t planned on
losing his temper but that hot temper had been a plague for most of his life.
Age and experience had cooled it somewhat but Sebastian managed to get under
his skin with frightening regularity however. It was never because of something
the Prince had done to him but constant reminders of what he’d done to Garrett,
Anders and the unfairness that was still being heaped on Grant.
There were no raised voices from Sebastian’s office. When Grant joined him in
the hallway a few minutes later his stride was calm and steady but he radiated
cold fury. Carver fell into step behind him wordlessly and followed him through
hallways to the room they now shared. Grant was across the room pulling the
curtains over the balcony windows when Carver shut the door behind him.
“I am so sorry,” Grant said without turning.
“It’s not your fault he’s a pompous ass,” Carver grumbled.
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied softly. “We can leave if you want to…”
“No,” said Carver firmly. He placed his sword on the stand near the bed and
sunk heavily onto it. “This is your home. If you leave it should be because you
want to.”
Grant joined him moments later but neither of them said anything more. Carver
leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and scrubbed his face trying
to rid himself of unpleasant memories. Grant scooted closer and he felt arms
around him, hands clasped together at his waist, cheek resting on his shoulder.
*
Sebastian knocked the arrow. He took a deep breath and sighted down it to the
target, drawing the string taut. Sweat trickled down his temple but he ignored
it as he released the string. His arrow flew towards the target and stuck just
outside the center circle. He sighed as his thoughts continued to circle. When
Carver and Grant had left he’d gone straight to the target range. Sebastian was
no closer to being calm an hour later than when he’d started.
Grant had only spoken three words before he’d followed Carver out, justice or
vengeance. His circling train of thought kept leading him to the latter.
Everything had seemed so clear then. His life for the many he’d cut short. When
he’d finally caught up with Anders Sebastian’s fury had been all consuming. He
consoled himself with excuses for not properly caring for his body but the
simple truth was he hadn’t wanted to. Hawke had been tougher to track down and
he’d nearly given up hope on ever finding the man. There was simply no way he
could have won against Hawke in a fair fight. Again he’d consoled himself with
excuses for his underhanded actions.
“Sebastian,” Anne said in concern behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“I am a fool,” he replied bitterly drawing another arrow from his quiver. “My
past haunts me.” He knocked the arrow and drew the bowstring taut. “My son
hates me with good reason.” He sighted down the arrow and let go of the string.
Sebastian sighed when it struck the target dead center.
“Grant doesn’t hate you.”
“He does.” Sebastian turned and found her frowning, worried. “His soul belongs
to a man I murdered for nothing more than revenge.”
“Even if he shares my brother’s soul I know Grant doesn’t hate you,” Anne said
earnestly stepping forward. “You are his father. He wants your approval. All he
has ever wanted was a smile and some praise.”
“I’m sorry Anne,” he said dejectedly. “I never thought… I only wanted to keep
him safe.”
“I know my love,” she said softly.
Anne stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment Sebastian
put his arms around her as well.
“I wish to speak with Mother Abigail,” Sebastian said after a few minutes. “I
have much to confess.”
“I’ll help you clean up,” Anne said pulling away.
Sebastian couldn’t return her small smile but he was grateful for her none the
less. He hadn’t known Anne was Anders’ younger sister until Grant was eight or
so. She hadn’t known Anders, only that she had an older brother that had been
taken by the Templars. Their two older children had taken after him but Grant’s
resemblance to Anders had been clear even then. According to Anne, Grant bore a
strong resemblance to her father.
He allowed himself to be led, wondering how he might atone for old sins and
hoping that his relationship with Grant could be salvaged somehow.
***** Chapter 23 *****
Grant lay on his stomach early one morning five days later. Carver was on top
of him, his cock buried deep inside. His thrusts were slow; his lips firm
against Grant’s cheek and down his neck. Carver supported himself with one hand
flat on the bed, Grant gripping that wrist. Their other hands were twined
together tightly.
If there was one good thing that had come of revealing all of his secrets it
was always having Carver in his bed. There was a chance to talk without the
fear of anyone overhearing. Cuddling together all night, spontaneous sex before
going to sleep, being able to take their time and figure out what the other
enjoyed. The other spells Graham had taught him creative uses for was quickly
turning into a favorite of them both. Morning sex also held a lot of appeal for
Grant. Neither of them had to sleep in the inevitable mess they made, Carver
seemed more relaxed and he usually felt invigorated. The handy bonus of being
able to concentrate better on his studies had improved Graham’s mood as well.
It also helped quite a bit that Sebastian had been absent the last five
mornings. The only place he did see his father at regularly was the dining room
during meals. A few chance encounters around the castle were met with a polite
smile that Grant had never seen directed at him before. Grant had a tendency to
avoid his father anyway but he was beginning to wonder if Sebastian was
avoiding him. With everyone’s tempers much improved lessons felt more normal,
even though they were still stuck down in the dungeons.
He planned on asking his mother about Sebastian’s mysterious behavior at
breakfast but that was still at least an hour away. Right now the only thing on
Grant’s mind was Carver and the perfectly torturous pace he’d set. His cock
brushed against that spot with every deep thrust, the small amount of movement
teasing his own cock trapped between the bed and his body. Grant suspected it
was punishment for teasing him with the electricity trick a few nights ago. If
it was, he had already decided there would definitely be more mischievousness
in the future.
Grant was nearly ready to beg his lover for release when Carver paused. He
kissed Grant’s cheek and extracted his hand. Panting with excitement Grant
gripped that wrist as Carver shifted above him. Carver began pounding into him.
He couldn’t stay completely quiet as every powerful thrust slid him forward a
little. Groaning steadily with Carver panting and grunting over him he could
still hear the slap of his balls against his arse.
“Come on Grant,” Carver managed between grunts of effort. “I want to feel you
explode. Feel that tight little ass squeeze my cock.”
It took a bit of effort but Grant clenched his arse. Carver cursed in surprise,
his fast pace stuttering to a stop. Grant would have laughed if he hadn’t
wanted to come so badly.
“Please Carver,” he whimpered rolling his hips against the bed. “Please,
please, please… I need this…”
“Cheeky,” Carver said breathlessly as he pulled out.
Moments later he effortlessly lifted Grant’s hips. It only took a couple of
quick tugs before he cried out loudly as he sprayed the sheets below. Carver
carefully lowered him back down and collapsed off to one side. Grant smiled
contentedly and turned his head to see his lover.
“You’re going to be sore,” Carver said softly caressing one arse cheek. “I
wasn’t holding much back.”
“If I end up walking funny it’ll be worth it,” Grant said grinning. “Let’s get
cleaned up. I want to talk to Mother.”
“We’ve got some time yet,” said Carver rolling to his back.
“I wish we had more time,” said Grant crawling over to straddle him.
“What would you do with more time?”
“I’d make myself hard again.” Grant leaned over and pressed their lips
together. “I love taking your cock but I want to know what you feel too.”
“Next time,” Carver said pulling him down.
Talk ceased as their lips slid together. Grant ran his hands through Carver’s
hair, feeling his hands squeezing and caressing his arse. For several more
minutes they lay entangled together, kissing and touching, making use of what
little time alone they were allowed. Clean up was quick and Grant knew his
cheeks were flushed and his lips still kiss swollen when he made his way to the
dining room.
Sebastian was absent and his siblings had grown accustomed to seeing him in
this semi aroused state. Douglas didn’t seem to care one way or the other after
the initial congratulatory slap on the back. Elle usually grinned at him every
single time he showed up to a meal red faced with a goofy grin of his own. His
father had usually done his stern little disapproving thing Grant hated but the
last five days he had only glanced at Grant and seemed to be trying to ignore
it.
Grant wasn’t sure when or how it had happened but Carver had proved his
sincerity to Anne. He thought that Carver’s actions the night of the ball might
have had quite a bit to do with it. She never mentioned his flushed cheeks or
swollen lips. This morning was no different and he filled his plate.
“Where’s Father?” Grant asked casually between bites.
“He’s already eaten,” Anne said. “He had an early task to complete.”
“Mother,” said Grant a few minutes later. “Is Father avoiding me?”
“Not avoiding,” said Anne softly. “I suggested he give you some time to calm
down.”
“Why would he care now?” Grant frowned suspiciously and glanced over at her.
“He never has before.”
“Sebastian does care about you Grant.” She patted his arm and smiled sadly.
“Please give him one more chance.”
Grant finished eating in silence. His father had never seemed to care about
anything that he actually had wanted. It was true that his demands of late had
been sort of met but most of them had been on Sebastian’s terms. He couldn’t
help being suspicious and wondering what his father wanted this time.
Anne squeezed his shoulder before she turned down the hallway. Carver was
waiting for him as usual and fell in behind him as they went the opposite
direction. They hadn’t made it to the first set of stairs when Grant rounded a
corner and nearly ran into his father.
“Grant,” Sebastian said a little breathlessly.
“I’m sorry Father,” said Grant. “I didn’t see you coming.”
“It’s quite all right,” he replied with that new polite little smile. “I have
good news for you… and something I’d like to say to both of you.”
“All right,” Grant said hesitantly.
“I have been all over the city these last five days with Lord and Lady
Morrison,” Sebastian said. “I believe it is okay for you to leave the castle
now.”
“Really?” said Grant feeling shocked.
“Yes. It will never truly be safe for you but…” Sebastian closed his eyes for a
moment and looked up at Carver. “Please remain vigilant.” Carver nodded curtly
and Sebastian sighed as he stepped back. “I have wronged both of you and I am
deeply sorry.”
“Father…”
“You are my son.” Sebastian gripped his shoulders lightly. “And I have not been
the best father to you.”
Grant stared at him in shocked disbelief. His father smiled. It was a small sad
thing. He squeezed Grant’s shoulders briefly and turned to the side, gesturing
down the hallway.
“Hawke will be expecting you at the clinic,” he said softly.
Sebastian looked a little reluctant as he stepped away, turned and rounded the
corner. Grant watched him disappear and turned to Carver. The warrior was
watching him, frowning slightly.
“Am I dreaming?” Grant asked in a small voice.
“If you are,” Carver replied evenly. “Then I’m having the same one.”
“There’s got to be some sort of catch,” said Grant. “There always is.”
“He seemed sincere enough,” said Carver with a shrug. “Let’s go see if we
actually make it out of the castle.”
Grant nodded and hurried through corridors and down stairs to the front gates.
The guards looked at him like they always did but didn’t stop him or even speak
to him. As good as it felt to be out in the city Grant hurried through side
streets and alleys to Graham’s clinic. Graham was sitting on the edge of his
desk, a pack at his feet. He grinned broadly and stood, shouldering the pack.
“Ready to go?” he said cheerfully.
“Go where?” Grant said. “Did Father come here?”
“No,” Graham said casually strolling across the clinic. “He came to my house.
Told me not to bother going to the castle and you’d be along shortly. I thought
we’d make a day of it and go gathering.”
“Did he say anything else?” Carver asked.
“As a matter of fact he did,” said Graham. “He apologized for this.” He ran his
fingers along the scar on his jaw. “And all the other holes he put in me.”
“Did he mean it?” said Grant stepping forward. “No caveat, no unless you do
this. Just… I’m sorry?”
“He seemed sincere enough,” Graham replied with a shrug. Carver snickered and
Grant huffed irritably. Graham arched an eyebrow at them. “Did I miss
something?”
“That’s exactly what he said,” Grant said waving a hand at Carver. “I don’t
believe it. Father hasn’t tormented me all these years to just give up after a
few temper tantrums.”
“Maybe he wasn’t trying to torment you,” Graham said calmly. “Let’s not worry
about Sebastian for a while. We’ll go gathering, have a nice picnic, maybe go
skinny dipping in the Minanter. The water should be warm enough now.”
Grant heaved a sigh and nodded. “It will be nice to get out for a while. I’ll
probably get in trouble when we get back though.”
“Not at all,” said Graham grinning. “All lessons are at my discretion. Places,
subject matter, length, everything.” He gestured at the door and said, “After
you.”
***** Chapter 24 *****
The day had been pleasant. Carver watched over them while they crouched in the
undergrowth and practiced the forms while they trained. Lunch was followed by
splashing in the river and then an hour or so of lying on a grassy patch of
bank to dry. They spoke of anything but Sebastian and Starkhaven in general but
now that they were heading home Grant had become silent and thoughtful.
Carver followed him through the streets watching the people around them
closely. So far it didn’t seem much different than before everyone knew he was
a mage. There were some that crossed the street or hurried by but everyone
still moved aside for him the way they always had. More people acknowledged him
than before and Grant still smiled and nodded, politely answered questions.
Suppertime got closer and closer but they were still nowhere near the castle.
“We’re not going back yet are we,” Carver said over the hum of the crowd.
“If I’m going to be in trouble,” Grant said moodily. “I’d like to do something
to actually be in trouble for.”
He sighed and pulled Grant into the nearest alley away from the crowded
streets. Grant’s face was set in a stubborn frown and he leaned against the
wall.
“I don’t blame you for being skeptical,” said Carver evenly. “If you want to
push Sebastian that’s fine.” He leaned in close. “If what you’re thinking of is
dangerous or stupid you can forget it right now. I’ll throw you over my
shoulder if I have to.”
Grant scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was hoping you’d support
me.”
“I will unless you’re trying to get yourself killed or kidnapped. You want to
break some rules. Be smart about it. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
“I just want to know if Father is serious. There has never been a time where I
wasn’t restricted or had my own special set of rules. Now he’s just going to
let all that go? I don’t believe it. Father’s planning something.”
“Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t. Let’s not hand him an ‘I told you so’.”
“All right,” Grant sighed. “I guess I need to think about this a little more.”
“Staying out past supper is a decent start,” Carver said pulling him away from
the wall. “As long as we’re not out late enough to become targets.”
“Let’s go visit one of the stands,” said Grant nodding. “We’ll take the long
way home.”
Carver pulled him into a brief hug then nudged him towards the mouth of the
alley. He followed Grant down the street and across the square, watching and
listening. Like he had many times before, Grant chose simple peasant fare and
they ate silently as they walked. The route he chose was circuitous. It was
well past supper by the time the castle gates came into view.
Grant slowed to a stop and Carver followed his line of sight. He was watching a
couple across the street. They were walking slowly away, his arm around her
shoulder and hers around his waist. After they were out of sight around a
corner Grant grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the wall.
“I have another idea,” he said smugly. “There’s nothing dangerous and it’ll
likely drive Father crazy.”
“You want to be less discreet,” Carver said confidently.
“No one else in the castle is. Besides the fact I didn’t have his express
permission to lose my virginity, the… inappropriateness of us must really
bother him.”
“So… kissing, holding hands… that sort of stuff?”
“I wouldn’t mind a little groping every now and then,” Grant said his smile
turning sheepish.
“That would definitely test Sebastian’s patience,” Carver said. “And my
restraint.”
“It’ll be nice though,” said Grant stepping closer. “All the staff knows we
sleep in the same room and have sex. I’d be surprised if all of the soldiers
didn’t know it as well.”
“Along with half the city,” muttered Carver looking around. Nothing seemed
amiss and he pulled Grant to him. “Might as well show them I’m not just a
perverted old man getting his kicks from a teenager.”
“Carver,” Grant said reproachfully looking up at him.
He smiled and kissed Grant’s forehead before pulling him into a hug. “All
kidding aside that would be nice. It sort of bothers me that’s what everyone
thinks.”
“You know,” Grant said squirming around in his arms. “Your sword makes hugging
a little awkward.” Grant ended up twisting his upper body to the side, his arms
tucked in close to his chest and his head resting on Carver’s shoulder. “There.
Now move your hand a little lower… perfect.”
They stood there for a few long minutes, Grant smiling happily tucked up neatly
in his arms. Carver was smiling as well as he watched the people passing by,
one hand resting low on his hip. People glanced as they walked by, usually with
a second longer look. One of the guards at the gates was openly staring at
them.
“The gate guards are watching,” Carver said softly.
“That’s the point,” Grant replied smirking up at him. “He’ll run straight to
Father. They always do.”
Carver leaned down and pressed their lips together briefly before squeezing his
arse cheek. “Let’s get inside.”
Grant twined their fingers together and they strolled casually through the
gates. Like the citizens on the street outside, the servants and soldiers
glanced once and then took a longer second look. Carver saw many quickly hidden
stunned and incredulous expressions. Grant seemed to be enjoying the attention.
He led them into the gardens and out to the benches towards the center.
They sat quietly hip to hip for a while their fingers still locked together,
and watched the sun set. Carver was still watchful but he enjoyed the simple
affections. On their way up to the bedroom they didn’t see any of his family
members. When the door was safely shut behind them Grant sat on the bed and
grinned up at him.
“What else can we do to irritate Father?” he asked cheerfully.
“What other ridiculous rules can you break?” Carver asked as he set his sword
on its stand.
“Staying out late, not hiding us,” Grant mused as he bent to pull off his
boots. “He always gave me that look if I was late to breakfast.”
“That’ll be easy to accomplish,” said Carver sitting next to him.
“Maybe I’ll let my hair grow out. Get one of my ears pierced.” Grant leaned
back on his elbows and chuckled. “I used to be ridiculously vain. My hair had
to be just so and that earring… not sure I could handle a skirt though.”
“Then you couldn’t tease me by wiggling your arse all day.”
“It’d make sex in Graham’s basement a lot easier. I’d just hike up the skirt
and bend over. Or we could just get comfortable on the floor and I’d sit on
your lap, the skirts pooled around us and hiding our naughty bits.”
“Sorry,” Carver said leaning over him. “I like the tight pants better. The
earring would look nice though.”
“Definitely getting my ear pierced then,” Grant said grinning.
Carver ran a hand down his jaw, leaning over further for a kiss. His hand
drifted down as their tongues slid together, pausing to rub a nipple through
his shirt then down to tug loose the laces of his trousers. Grant hummed,
pushing his hips up into Carver’s hand and began tugging on his shirt. Parting
only long enough to rid themselves of their clothing, they kissed and caressed
until both of them were fully erect.
“Do you want me on my back or my hands and knees,” Carver asked between kisses.
“Back,” Grant said pulling away.
“Start with your fingers,” said Carver scooting around on the bed to position
himself. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve bottomed.”
He held his legs behind his knees and Grant settled between them. Carver smiled
encouragingly at Grant’s tentative touches. Grant smiled back and conjured a
palm full of grease. He scooped some up into his other hand and stroked his
cock a few times. The rest went around his entrance, Grant rubbing in circles
before cautiously penetrating him with a single finger.
It felt odd to Carver but not unpleasant. That Grant sought his approval before
pushing further in helped. When one finger began feeling good Carver told him
to add another, and again when he was comfortable with two. Grant gained
confidence with every pleased sigh Carver uttered. He grinned after he’d found
that spot and Carver began panting.
“Are you ready?” Grant asked softly still thrusting slowly with his fingers.
“Yeah,” said Carver. “Nice and slow…”
Grant stroked his cock a few more times before scooting forward. Carver exhaled
noisily as he felt Grant’s cock slowly filling him up.
“Oh,” Grant muttered. “Andraste’s knickers…”
“Now just stay put,” Carver panted. “Let me get used to you…”
“Not sure I’ll last very long,” he said in a shaky whisper.
“I didn’t either my first time.” Carver let go of his legs, letting them rest
on Grant’s thighs. “Lean over me and go slow.”
Grant nodded and did as he was told, his hands supporting his weight beside
Carver’s chest. He groaned softly as he began rolling his hips. The slow pace
felt wonderful and he was soon panting. Grant was moaning steadily, his rhythm
becoming a little erratic as he inevitably sped up. Carver stroked himself,
eyes mostly shut, thoroughly enjoying this role reversal. Grant spent himself
first, moaning breathlessly as he stuttered to a stop.
Carver wrapped his legs around the boy, keeping him balls deep, and tugged his
cock furiously until he came too. Grant gasped and leaned forward until their
foreheads touched. Carver sighed contentedly and they disentangled themselves,
lying next to one another as their breathing evened out.
“Good?” Carver asked rolling to find his discarded small clothes.
“Yes,” Grant said softly. “I think I still like it better the other way
though.”
“Just let me know when you want another go.”
He settled on his back after cleaning the spend off of his abdomen. Grant
snuggled up next to him and they were both soon sleeping peacefully.
***** Chapter 25 *****
“Good morning,” Grant said cheerfully.
Sebastian glanced up and closed his eyes for a moment. He had expected a bit of
wildness from his youngest. Staying out past supper and being late for
breakfast the next morning were nothing compared to what he’d done as a young
man. Though he didn’t like it, Carver and Grant being open about the exact
nature of their relationship wasn’t entirely surprising either.
Within the city their affections remained appropriate. His eyes and ears had
reported a lot of hand holding, arms around waists and chaste kisses. The whole
castle had known of the sexual nature of their relationship and now the entire
city was abuzz with gossip about Grant and his much older lover. It had quickly
over taken the mage rumors in popularity.
Here within the castle their affections had become very inappropriate. Many of
the soldiers and a few of the servants had reported seeing them in the gardens
or some of the lesser used hallways shamelessly groping each other or involved
in a very heated kiss. Sebastian himself had witnessed them at it just last
night.
By chance he’d happened to be heading to the kitchens for a late snack when
movement in a dark corner had caught his eye. Grant’s back had been to him, his
arms locked around Carver’s chest. His shirt must have been mostly unbuttoned
as the collar sat down at his shoulder blades with most of his shoulders bare.
Carver had his hands down Grant’s trousers and his lips at Grant’s neck.
Sebastian had watched stunned and horrified. He was close enough to see Carver
squeezing his son’s arse and the roll of Grant’s hips. It was also easy to hear
the soft pleasured sounds from Grant. He had turned and walked quickly away
when Carver looked over at him, lips red and swollen, pulled up in a smirk.
It was impossible to banish the image especially when Grant proudly displayed
the marks Carver had left on his neck. In the last couple of weeks Grant’s
wardrobe had changed as well. His trousers were still too tight but now his
shirts were often left open halfway down his chest. Grant also seemed to be
searching for a unique look, adding various belts, sashes, vests and even some
jewelry to his plain pants and shirts.
Grant toyed with the silver hoop in his ear that had appeared a few days after
Sebastian’s apology as he sat. Sebastian did his best to smile at Grant and
focused on his breakfast. Anne knew of their inappropriate behavior and she
liked it as much as he did, not at all. She seemed to be encouraging his search
for his own style however. Sebastian didn’t care for it much but was very
thankful his son seemed to be avoiding feathers.
He found coping with Grant’s outlandish behavior difficult but his son seemed
happier over all. There were more smiles and he wasn’t quite as quiet as he had
been previously. Most of his time was spent with Hawke but Grant didn’t seem to
resent his siblings anymore and had spent some of his free time with them. The
only person in the castle who hadn’t received a happy smile from him so far was
Sebastian himself. Sebastian knew it would take longer than a couple of weeks
to repair the damage he’d done if their relationship was salvageable at all. He
was beginning to despair that he would only ever get suspicious frowns and
sharp words.
Sebastian ate slowly keeping track of Grant as he did. He was trying to think
of a polite way to tell him to please keep all overt sexual activity confined
to his room. The rest Sebastian thought he could deal with eventually. Since
there was no need to call more attention to his extremely inappropriate
behavior he planned on talking to Grant before he left for Hawke’s clinic.
Even though he was last to the table only Douglas left before him. Grant
inhaled his breakfast and pushed away from the table. Anne spoke quietly to him
for a moment and his reply was just as soft. He excused himself smiling and
pushed in his chair. Sebastian followed after him, Anne frowning slightly at
him as he passed her. In the hallway Grant and Carver were already on their way
and Sebastian jogged to catch up.
“Grant,” he called out.
“Yes Father?” Grant said flatly as he turned around.
“It…” Sebastian’s words died on his tongue at the resigned expression his son
wore and the defeated slump to his shoulders. He expected harsh words and
punishment. Sebastian glanced at Carver and wondered if he’d told Grant that
he’d seen them. Rather than do as he intended, he grasped frantically for
something else to say. “Err… how are your studies coming?”
“Fine,” said Grant after a moment of stunned silence. “Graham says all the time
I spend with him now is helping a lot.”
“That’s good,” Sebastian said. “I won’t keep you further.”
“Thank you,” Grant said after a moment.
A confused look passed over his face as he turned away. Carver followed
stoically behind and Sebastian watched them.
“Grant,” Sebastian called out again taking a few steps closer. His son stopped
and turned again, now looking irritated. “It would be nice to see you at supper
every once in a while.”
“I’ll try,” he said indifferently turning back around.
Sebastian held in a sigh and watched them walk down the hall before turning
back the way he’d come. The dining room was empty and he went in search of
Anne, finding her in the library. He sunk down on the seat next to her and
heaved a sigh. She set aside the unopened book and took his hand in hers.
“Did you argue?” she asked.
“No,” Sebastian replied. “I asked about his studies and expressed a desire to
see him a little more often at supper.”
“No harsh words or raised voices?”
“None.” Sebastian kissed the back of her hand.
“Be patient Sebastian,” Anne said gently. “I’m sure Grant will see that you are
sincere.”
“I hope so,” he sighed. “Anne, will you speak with him about the inappropriate
behavior in the castle? I’m afraid if I say anything he will take it badly.”
“He likely would. I do not like that either but we agreed to let him do as he
wished.”
“I know love but here in the castle he’s taking it too far. Last night I saw
them in a very… compromising… position.” Anne frowned and turned slightly to
see him better. “They were nearly hidden against the wall in a dark hallway,
Carver’s hands beneath his clothing… very obviously pleasuring him.”
“I will speak with Carver first,” Anne said her frown deepening.
“Carver knows I spied them,” Sebastian said trying to banish the image again.
“I can’t imagine why he indulges Grant like that. He never seemed the sort to
enjoy being watched in Kirkwall.”
“Perhaps I will speak with both of them then,” said Anne.
“Thank you Anne.” He squeezed her hand and leaned over to give her a chaste
kiss.
Sebastian focused on his duties for a while, settling disputes and going
through the city’s income with his seneschal. The morning passed slowly and the
afternoon was no better. He went through tentative wedding plans with Douglas
and spoke with a few carpenters about going through the ball room again. He
ended up in the middle of the dance floor remembering watching Grant and Carver
dance.
Anne had known about them. While he still didn’t like Grant’s choice in lovers,
he thought he understood a little more about what had made Anne smile that day.
Despite the thirty years between them, they were happy. All the reports he
received from the city indicated that as well. Sebastian thought of Douglas and
how he smiled when they spoke of Julia. He thought of Elle and how she stood on
the balcony overlooking the soldiers training area, how she’d watch her soldier
with a dreamy expression. Lastly he thought of himself, stuck in a small
village in the Anderfels due to inclement weather and falling head over heels
in love with a farmer’s daughter.
It struck him just how unfair he’d been with Grant in this area of his life.
Was it any wonder this was how his son had chosen to rebel? He would never like
how much older Carver was but the feelings between them seemed genuine.
Determined to find a way to show his support that wouldn’t be taken wrong, he
sought out his wife again. After a discussion they headed out into the city.
They came back a couple of hours later with a small box. Anne tied a red ribbon
around it while Sebastian penned a note. The box was left on Grant’s
nightstand, the note folded beside it with both of their names on the outside.
There was nothing left to do now but wait and hope.
***** Chapter 26 *****
Suppertime was over when Grant finally headed back to the castle. All day he’d
been rather distracted by Sebastian’s unexpected inquiry. The longer nothing
had been said about his behavior the more he’d strove for a reaction. Getting
fresh in the halls and in the garden he’d thought would have been the best way
to accomplish it. Grant hadn’t expected his father to continue to ignore the
behavior, especially after catching them.
“Are you sure he saw us?” Grant asked.
“Absolutely,” Carver replied. “Ran off like his ass was on fire.”
“Then why didn’t he mention it this morning? I was sure he’d yell or ground me
or something.”
“Maybe that’s why he didn’t.”
“You think he’s actually serious? That he’s truly going to give up on hiding me
and trying to make me what he wants me to be?”
“I do now. If catching us rutting in the hallway didn’t loosen his tongue then
he must be serious.”
Grant was still skeptical. He squeezed Carver’s hand and they continued home in
companionable silence. There was little else he could do to shock a reaction
out of Sebastian that wouldn’t be dangerous or stupid. Since Carver wouldn’t
allow him to try anything truly foolish he could only keep pushing in the ways
he had been.
He was lost in thought and only half paying attention to his surroundings when
they approached the castle gates. Carver squeezed his hand and pulled him a
little closer. “You’re mother’s waiting for us.”
One of the guards was pointing at them when Grant looked around. Anne spoke
with him briefly and waited for them just inside.
“Hello Mother,” Grant said cheerfully as they stopped in front of her.
“Good evening Grant,” she replied smiling. Anne turned and inclined her head at
Carver. “Serah Hawke.”
“My Lady,” Carver said evenly as he bowed slightly.
“I would like to speak with you both privately,” Anne said still smiling. “It
will only take a moment.”
“All right,” said Grant. His stomach clenched nervously and he glanced at
Carver. “We didn’t have any specific plans.”
Anne led them down the hallway and into the audience waiting room. Benches were
lined along the walls, a round table in the middle of the room and decorative
tapestries hung on the walls. She closed the door after them and stood in front
of it, her arms crossed under her bosom.
“I should scold you both,” Anne said mildly.
“What for Mother?” Grant asked as innocently as he could. His mother had to be
aware of what he and Carver had been doing all around the castle. He hadn’t
expected her to confront them about it however.
“That’s not going to work,” Carver muttered.
“No,” she said now sounding amused. “Playing innocent will not get you out of
trouble this time. I know what you’ve been up to.”
“Mother…” Grant began.
She held a hand up and he fell silent immediately. “I understand Grant. You
doubt Sebastian’s sincerity. I’m grateful you haven’t chosen a more dangerous
method to test your father’s patience but you must stop groping each other in
the hallways.”
“The gardens?” said Grant somewhat hopefully.
Anne shook her head. “Such activities should remain private. In your room or an
unoccupied room with a door if you simply can’t wait.”
“Yes Mother,” Grant said softly.
“Thank you Grant,” said Anne her smile returning. “It’s good to see you
smiling.” She pulled him into a brief hug and kissed his forehead then turned
to Carver. “Keeping him happy doesn’t mean indulging his every whim.”
“Yes Ma’am,” he said sheepishly, spots of color blooming on his cheeks.
Anne smiled and nodded slightly. “I won’t keep you further.” She turned and
opened the door stepping halfway through before turning back to them. “Thank
you Carver, for your timely appearance in Starkhaven. Perhaps the Maker’s grand
sense of humor is sometimes needed to knock sense into his stubborn children.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up and Carver inclined his head. “You’re welcome
my Lady.”
Still smilingly she closed the door behind her. Carver sighed heavily and sat
on the nearest bench. Grant sat next to him, echoing his heavy sigh and leaned
back against the wall.
“I guess we’ll have to figure something else out,” Grant said disappointedly.
“I guess so,” Carver said sounding just as disappointed as he felt.
“I had to talk you into it,” said Grant smirking. “And now you sound as if
you’re going to miss having your hands down my pants where we might be caught.”
Carver shrugged the blush deepening slightly even as he smiled. “I guess you
can teach an old dog new tricks. At least we know one of your parents finally
approves of us.”
“Come on,” Grant said standing. “Let’s go up to our room and think of something
else that will irritate Father.”
“I still think he’s genuine but,” Carver said standing as well. He gestured at
the door and smiled. “Lead on.”
Grant walked quickly through the corridors and up the stairs to his room. They
came across the usual assortment of soldiers and servants on the way but didn’t
come across any of his family. A small box on his nightstand tied up in a red
ribbon caught his attention immediately. He heard Carver close the door behind
him as he crossed the room.
“What’s this?” Grant asked curiously as he picked the box up.
“Don’t know,” Carver said coming up beside him. He picked up a piece of paper
that Grant hadn’t noticed. “Grant and Carver,” he read slowly. “Do you
recognize the writing?”
“It’s Father’s handwriting,” said Grant now frowning. “Read it out loud.”
“Please accept this gift. Despite my hypocrisy you have found with each other
what I have with Anne. What I have encouraged Douglas and Elle to search for.
May you enjoy many years together. Sebastian.”
“Let me see that,” Grant said setting the box back down on his nightstand. “He
can’t actually…”
Silently Carver handed him the note and he read through it several times. It
was definitely his father’s writing but he was still having difficulty
believing his father had written it. Grant set the note down and picked up the
box. He pulled at the ribbon and dropped it to the floor, lifting the lid.
Inside on a swatch of cotton sat two amulets.
They were made of silver, both oval shaped with a small green gem set into the
bottom. One was engraved with a flaming sword, an icon he remembered from his
previous life but it brought none of the hatred now that he remembered having
then. On the other the stylized sun of the Chantry was etched, another symbol
he had previously hated but now held different significance.
“He is serious,” said Grant in a small voice. He lifted the amulets out of the
box and set it back down on the nightstand. “All these years… “
“No matter who you were,” Carver said softly taking the amulets from him. “You
are his son. My father spent hardly any time with me. He couldn’t. He had to
teach Garrett and Bethany. I resented it, resented him for years. He died when
I was fifteen. I wish I could tell him I understand now.”
“That’s why Graham’s been defending him,” Grant said turning towards Carver at
his side. “Why you’ve sort of defended him a few times. Why you were so mad
with him to start with.”
“It is,” Carver replied evenly. He slipped the chain of one around Grant’s
neck. “He’s offering peace.”
Grant lifted the amulet and saw he’d been given the sun. The Chantry had always
been a big part of his life. Anders people were very devout and his mother was
no different. His father was firm in his beliefs. They were true believers with
unshakable faith. Yet neither of them had thrown him out of the city. He was a
mage and both had fought to keep him in Starkhaven with them.
“Maybe I can give him a chance,” Grant said looking back up at Carver.
“Let’s not go too easy on him,” Carver said smirking. “He’s got a lot to make
up for.”
“Did you have something in mind?” said Grant grinning.
“Rearrange the room a bit, leave the curtains to the balcony open, and have as
much sex as we want in our room, behind closed doors.”
“Loopholes!” Grant exclaimed. “I love it!”
“Let’s get to work,” Carver said tucking his amulet underneath his shirt.
*
Sebastian could hardly hide his disappointment. He didn’t expect Grant to show
up for supper but had hoped to see him at some point last night. Anne had
spoken with them as soon as they’d returned to the castle and then they had
stayed in their room all night. He hoped Grant hadn’t avoided him out of anger.
He filled his plate with eggs and bacon, keeping a close watch on the door.
Sebastian was half finished before Grant joined them.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he sat. Sebastian was surprised when he
looked directly at him and smiled. “Father,” he added politely.
“Good morning Grant,” Sebastian said evenly.
“Thank you,” said Grant touching the amulet he hadn’t noticed.
“You’re welcome,” said Sebastian warmly, smiling happily.
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