Catching up with the family

You first day at Highever proved rather uneventful, and you needed some rest to recuperate from the fatigue of travel. As soon as you enter the Keep, however, Fergus and Orianna pull you aside, with Fergus saying, "Just before you go in for the night, do know that we know of your... 'appetites'."

"And why we want to at least tell you that your room has been completely soundproofed for that reason," Said Orianna, "We can't have you robbing us of our sleep though."

You resist the urge to laugh at their completely candid voices and faces when saying such things.

"I'm assuming that's not the only thing you want to tell me, though?" You ask.

"Yes," Said Orianna, her voice taking a more chilly tone, "Do not, under any circumstances, ever incite or advise my boy Oren when having fun with the wenches, understand?"

"We are his parents, and we reserve the absolute right to protect his innocence until then," Said Fergus, equally icy, "So, if you were to ever do that without our explicit permission or knowledge - and we will find out - then I believe we will have to..."

"Castrate you," Said Orianna, her lips curled into a most convincing smirk.

You swallow nervously and cover your crotch as you furiously nod.

Dinner was a light-hearted affair, as you take the time asking your brother how he's doing after the Blight and also savoring your sister in-law's cooking. Oren was the most enthusiastic of the bunch as he asked many things about your journey, from your first days as a Grey Warden to leading them, ending the Fifth Blight and then your time leading the Inquisition, having deposed the previous Inquisitor.

After finishing dinner, you excuse yourself from the table and retire to your room for the night, welcoming the soft embrace of the pillowy mattress.

The next morning, you wake up with a loud yawn as you stretch your shoulders, welcoming the first rays of sunlight. For the first order of business, Fergus brings you to the Cousland mausoleum. The ancestral resting place of the Couslands, it dated back to the time of the fifth century since Andraste, long before the Orlesian Occupation. From its founder Edwin, countless Couslands have faithfully served Ferelden and the line of King Calenhad.

"When I first arrived here, the castle was an absolute ruin, and the bodies of our household were littered all over the place," Said Fergus, "We found mother's and father's in the cellar with a few of Howe's men. Now as Lord of the castle, I decided to bury all of our guards and servants here. Its the least I can do for their loyalty."

Feeling choked a bit with Fergus's generosity, you kneeled down and touch Bryce's and Eleanor's headstone, freshly chiseled and well-maintained. You still feel some kind of regret leaving them to their deaths but you realize the danger of that time, knowing that to remain was certain **** for you and Oren, and a lack of opportunity to avenge the betrayal. After a few more minutes and a silent prayer to Andraste, both of you return to the castle.

As promised, you teach Oren a bit of swordsmanship and archery, the young boy enthusiastically taking to your lessons despite his amateurish attempts. Fergus also tags along, giving pointers here and there.

"Speaking of which, why not we have a few rounds of sparring?" Asked Fergus, "It's been years since we did so, and I want to see how much you've improved."

"Same here," You said, "Oren, why not you go practice your archery? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay!" Oren cheerfully said.

It is not long before the other soldiers and servants gathered around the sparring ring you were using, you and Fergus facing each other with your longswords held in defensive stances, slowly circling each other.

"Come to think of it, since it's been years from our last spar, I ought to tell you," You said, "I've been through a lot of life-and-**** situations since then, so don't expect me to lose again."

"We'll see when we fight, brother," Said Fergus.

And like a signal flare going off, the two of you clashed swords with great strength, the initial blow filling the ring with the shrill sound of steel ringing.

On and on you fought, and your experience proved itself an advantage as Fergus is slowly pushed back, **** on the defensive more than once as he parries and blocks your strikes. Many soldiers were clapping and cheering, some discreetly exchanging bets on the sly as they bet on their chosen fighter. The poor servants, on the other hand, covered their ears in discomfort, disliking the sound of ringing steel.

"I have to admit, you've improve leaps and bounds!" Said Fergus.

"You know I'm not one to make idle boasts!" You replied, "And now, for the finishing blow!"

Angling your sword upwards, you aim to finish it with a downward strike.

But Fergus gains a second wind and surprisingly blocks it, halting your momentum. A brief contest of strength follows as you try to push away his sword, gritting your teeth.

And you are soon pushed back as Fergus disarms you with his last strike, sending you falling onto your bottom with a guffaw.

You laugh good-naturedly as you get back up, saying, "I lost, but that was the most fun I've had!"

Many soldiers and servants were clapping in excitement, though some who betted on you mouth curses as they handed over their losses.