This story was written as a one-shot for the 'Sugar and Spice' event at the Dreamwidth community, peopleofthedas. Over two days it turned into a long-shot so, although it was published originally as one piece, I've decided to turn it into several chapters. I will publish a chapter a day; there are five chapters in all, with a short epilogue that will be published immediately after Chapter 5.

I'd like to thank scarylady1 for providing emergency beta-reading the weekend I wrote this, and WellspringCD for providing further beta-reading once it was complete. I'd also like to thank WellspringCD and lisakodysam for their encouragement when I was feeling so demoralised about this story; it very nearly didn't see the light of day anywhere else.

I count the dismal time by months and years

Since last I felt the green sward under foot,

And the great breath of all things summer-

Met mine upon my lips. Now earth appears

As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres

Or thoughts of Heaven we weep at. Nature's lute

Sounds on, behind this door so closely shut,

A strange wild music to the prisoner's ears,

Dilated by the distance, till the brain

Grows dim with fancies which it feels too

While ever, with a visionary pain,

Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine

Streams, forests, glades, and many a golden train

Of sunlit hills transfigured to Divine.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"Forgiveness is the needle that knows how to mend." Jewel

Teagan looked up at the knock at the door, glad to set aside the mountain of paperwork that seemed to accompany looking after Eamon's Arldom while he lay sick. "Come in."

The door opened and Rafe Amell's head appeared. "I wondered if I might have a word, Bann Teagan."

"Of course, have a seat." Teagan gestured to the chair on the far side of Eamon's desk.

Rafe sidled around the door and sat stiffly on the edge of the seat, one of his hands plucking at a button on the front of his robe.

Teagan frowned at the warden's uncertain manner. It was very unlike the confident man he'd come to know over the last few days, and Teagan found it a little unnerving.

"You're all ready for your journey to Denerim; you have everything you need?"

Rafe nodded. "We'll be away early." He hesitated, chewing his lip nervously. "I... um... wanted to ask you a favour, a boon, if you will."

Teagan was surprised. He had already promised to aid the Wardens in any way he could. Rafe's manner suggested that his request was over and above that.

"Warden, every man, woman and child in Redcliffe owes you their life, including myself. Ask your boon and I will do everything in my power to grant it."

"It's about Jowan... "

"I'm sorry, warden, I've already explained that it's not within my authority to release the mage. I know he's your friend, but... "

"I understand that." Rafe leaned forwards. "I'm not asking you to release him, just... It's killing him, being locked up in that dungeon. Believe me, it's bad enough being locked away in the tower, but at least there are windows; they don't open, but they admit light."

Teagan frowned, feeling a pang of regret that Connor was being condemned to such a life. He leaned back in his chair, watching Rafe carefully. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I know that Jowan has to be kept under arrest, but would you give him a room in the castle? Just an ordinary room with a window; give him a few books to occupy his time and, I swear, he won't make any trouble." Rafe gazed at Teagan hopefully.

Teagan wavered, in spite of his natural inclination to keep the blood mage in the dungeons. Rafe's pleading was hard to ignore and he owed the wardens so much; if they were successful in their quest to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes, he would owe them even more.

"He will still have to be locked up and those anti-magic bracelets stay on; I'm not prepared to risk him using magic. There's no telling what he could do, otherwise." Teagan looked thoughtful. "I could put him in the old nursery. There are bars outside the windows, but the windows open inwards; he could open them if he wished. I'll send for the blacksmith to fit a lock on the door."

Rafe's face lit up, a mixture of joy and relief. "Thank you, my lord." He stood and offered his hand to Teagan. "I know he's given you no reason to believe it, but Jowan's a good man. He truly regrets his actions." Rafe sighed heavily. "It's partly my fault that he was in a position where Loghain was able to blackmail him to poison the arl."

"I'll send for Owen, first thing tomorrow. As soon as there's a stout lock on the door, I'll have your friend moved upstairs."

Rafe nodded and bade Teagan goodnight.

~o~O~o~

Teagan watched as the guard unlocked the cell door, pulled it wide, and stood aside.

"You can wait at the stairs, Hobson."

"Very good, m'lord." The guard bowed and moved back down the corridor to wait at the foot of the stairs.

Teagan moved to the open door, his nose wrinkling at the smell. The mage stood, pressed against the back wall, watching him warily.

"You are very lucky in your friends, mage. Warden Rafe speaks highly of you. I have to say, I'm disinclined to agree with his opinion; however, he has persuaded me to move you to less... inhospitable accommodations. Come." Teagan turned and strode down the corridor. Hearing no footsteps behind him, he turned, frowning. The mage hovered anxiously at the threshold of the cell.

"What's the matter? Do you want to stay in there?" Teagan didn't bother to hide his irritation. The mage was gazing at him like a rabbit confronted by a fox.

"What? Oh, no!" The mage stepped cautiously into the corridor. "Where are you taking me?"

"Upstairs. Your friend asked if you could be accommodated in an ordinary room. Subject to certain restrictions, I have agreed. So, unless you wish to remain down here, I suggest you come with me."

Teagan turned and continued up the passage, not bothering to see if the mage was following him. He heard soft footsteps behind him as the mage scurried to catch up. The guard, Hobson, stood aside to let them pass and followed them upstairs. Teagan led the way, past the small chapel and across the Great Hall and up to the first floor. He took them down a side passage and Jowan gazed around him, not having been in this part of the castle before. Teagan opened a door and stepped into a room.

"Wait here, Hobson." Teagan held the door open until Jowan followed him into the room, then closed it.

Jowan looked around him in wonder. He was in a large square room, the walls plain whitewash, with two big windows; one of the windows had been opened to air the room. Without realising what he was doing, Jowan's feet took him towards the open window and he stood, rapt, as a small breeze played over his face.

Teagan watched, slightly bemused, as Jowan stood by the window, an expression of ecstasy on his face. As the mage's lank hair stirred in a sudden gust of wind, it brought Teagan's attention back to how filthy the man was.

"I'll have some water brought up for a bath. I don't suppose you know what Isolde did with the rest of your belongings?"

Jowan started as Teagan's voice brought him back to reality. He shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose they're still in my old room."

"I'll check. If not, I daresay we can find some breeches and a shirt for you." Teagan gazed at the mage coldly. "Understand that while your accommodations are more pleasant, you are still a prisoner. You will not leave this room and those things stay on." Teagan gestured at the dull metal bracelets encircling Jowan's bony wrists. "There are bars at the windows and the door will be kept locked at all times; however, you are free to open the windows as you desire."

Teagan was embarrassed at the sight of tears filling the mage's eyes. He turned and left the room, locking the door behind him, before Jowan could say anything. He had no desire to be thanked; this was no gesture of kindness on his part, merely payment of a debt that he could never fully repay. If Teagan had his way, the mage would swing from the nearest tree.

Sending Hobson downstairs with instructions to arrange for a bath for the prisoner, Teagan made his way to the small room that Jowan had previously occupied. The room was a shambles. Clothing and the few personal items that Jowan possessed had been tossed around carelessly, no doubt when his room was searched at Isolde's behest. Teagan started to scoop up the clothing. As he picked a shirt off the bed, something fell back down onto it. Teagan looked closer; it was a small leather-bound book. He picked it up and opened it. About a third of the pages were filled with small, cramped writing, the rest were blank. A journal? Teagan slipped it into his pocket and picked up the rest of Jowan's clothes. He didn't have much; two pairs of breeches, four shirts and some underclothes. There was a cloak too, but Jowan wouldn't be needing that.

"'Scuse me, m'lord. We've brung the water up, but we need you to unlock the door." The maid bobbed a curtsey, apologetically.

Teagan nodded. "I'll be right there." He spotted a razor on top of the dresser. Maker knows, the man needs a shave. Teagan hesitated, then picked it up. He'd ask Hobson to watch the man while he shaved, then remove the razor.

~o~O~o~

5 Drakonis 9:30

Maker, I am such a fool! I can't believe I'm in this mess. If only I'd had a flint, that blasted templar would never have caught me. It seems absurdly ironic that having finally destroyed my phylactery and escaped the tower, I gave myself away by trying to light a fire to keep warm. I suppose it was naïve of me to think that, just because the templars couldn't track me, they couldn't capture me at all. It was even worse luck to be captured by a bent templar; or maybe he isn't bent, maybe Loghain has something on him too or spun him some story. He's a wily old fox! If Loghain hadn't taken a new phylactery from me, I'd be out of here like an arrow loosed from a bow. I wonder how he knew about that? I'd always thought it was something the Chantry kept quiet about. Bloody hypocrites!

6 Drakonis 9:30

The boy, Connor, seems nice. I really hope that I can teach him how to control his magic. It's one less for the tower! He seems to lean towards entropy - not my strongest school, but I suppose I just have to teach him enough to keep him out of the templars' clutches. It's not like she's asking me to train him to be a senior enchanter or anything. Then again, his mother's such a stuck-up bitch, he might be better off in the tower. No! I wouldn't wish that on anyone, even with a mother like that. The arl seems all right. A bit of a stuffy old duffer, but nice enough. I hate the thought of poisoning him, but I can't go back! Just the thought of being cooped up in that tower again makes me want to scream. I'd rather die!

8 Drakonis 9:30

It's done. I added it to the brandy in his study. As far as I can tell, no-one else touches the stuff. I hope the servants aren't helping themselves to a crafty nip now and again! The old man shuts himself up in there in the evenings. I can't say I blame him. She had me join her and Connor yesterday evening, wanted me to teach him chess. The woman has a voice like chalk on a blackboard! If Loghain wanted her poisoned, I wouldn't think twice about it. She keeps going on about wanting to keep her darling boy out of the tower, but she can't help sneering when she talks about mages. I think she's ashamed of him. One of the maids was telling me that she's big with the Chantry. I'm surprised that she hasn't turned him in herself.

9 Drakonis 9:30

The arl was looking a bit ropey this morning. I wonder if he had some of his brandy last night? I had the fright of my life today! Isolde wanted to go down to the Chantry today and she insisted on taking Connor with her, which meant that I had to go too! The woman's got balls, I'll give her that! I mean, taking two mages into a Chantry. Anyway, there were two templars there. It was odd hearing them gossiping with the sisters, it's not a side we ever see of them at the tower - mostly they stand around like statues. I overheard one of them saying that a mage had been conscripted from the tower by the Grey Wardens. I couldn't help wonder if it was Rafe. He always was a jammy bastard! I wonder why they had to conscript him - maybe Irving didn't want to let his favourite apprentice mage go. I can't believe he turned us in to Irving! I'll never forgive him.

11 Drakonis 9:30

The arl is definitely sick. He was supposed to be taking some men south, to join the king's army, but has taken to his bed instead. Is this what Loghain wanted? It seems odd to want to keep men from the king's army - there must be more to it. Since I heard those templars talking, I can't stop thinking of poor Lily. I hope they haven't been too hard on her. That bastard, Greagoir, was all for sending her to Aeonar. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve me either, she deserved better. I was so caught up in the idea of being a normal man, living a normal life. I really did think I could love her. I wanted to love her.

14 Drakonis 9:30

The arl's condition is worsening, even though he's had no more of the brandy since he took ill. Her High and Mightiness has sent for the arl's brother. I wish I'd thought to ask Loghain how long I had to stay for. I'm pretty certain he's got someone watching the castle, reporting back to him. If I leave too soon, he'll just send the templars after me. I wish I could talk to Rafe, he'd know what to do. I still feel so angry at him. I still can't believe he betrayed us to Irving! But I miss him, too. He was always the only person I could talk to.

16 Drakonis 9:30

The arl's brother arrived today. He's a lot younger than the arl and a lot less stuffy. The arlessa was all over him like a rash, weeping and wailing; the look on his face was priceless! I must say, he fills out his breeches very well. That's one thing I definitely appreciate, being out of that prison - a pair of muscular legs filling close-fitting breeches. A sight that was all too rare in the tower. It's made me realise how hopeless it would have been with Lily. I would have been a lousy husband lover - I could never have made her happy because it would be impossible for her to make me happy. And now I'm back to where I started. I'd hoped that writing in this journal would help me straighten things out, in my head, at least. But I'm still a fool and things are still a huge mess.

20 Drakonis 9:30

The arl had been unconscious for five days now. Bann Teagan is talking about sending to the tower for a mage healer. Connor and I will need to make ourselves scarce if he does. Mages mean templars and they mean trouble for both of us. Quite apart from the fact that anyone who's spent any time in the tower recently will recognise me straight away, Connor isn't that good at hiding his magic, especially since his father was taken ill. A mage might not spot it, but a templar certainly will. A part of me hopes that a healer will come and be able to help him. I've grown quite fond of Connor and hate to see him so upset. Besides, it's not like the arl has ever done me any harm. Maybe I should just take off. It would take Loghain a while to get news I'd gone. By the time he had templars tracking me, I could be in Orlais. I'd rather die than go back to the tower. I wish I knew what poison Loghain had given me, I might be able to look up an antidote for it.

23 Drakonis 9:30

We just got news of a big battle in the Wilds, at Ostagar. I can't believe it! Maker, please don't let it be Rafe that joined the Grey Wardens. He was the closest thing to family I ever had since my father dumped me at the Chantry. The messenger said that the Grey Wardens betrayed the king during the battle and that now the king, the Grey Wardens and most of his army lie slain on the battlefield. Apparently, Loghain was able to save a portion of the army and had taken them back to Denerim. Frankly, I think the whole thing stinks! I wouldn't trust Loghain further than I could throw him. Besides, I've read a lot about the Grey Wardens. They don't get involved in politics, all they care about is fighting darkspawn. Why would they betray the king and waste most of his army? People are saying this is the beginning of a Blight. Maker help Ferelden, if that's true. We're doomed without the Grey Wardens.

~o~O~o~

Teagan yawned and set the journal down. He'd hoped to find some clue about the poison Jowan had used, but it was obvious that the mage had no idea what it was. Rafe had maintained that Jowan truly regretted his actions and, having read the man's journal, Teagan was inclined to believe him. But it still doesn't change the fact that he poisoned Eamon! Teagan felt a flash of anger that extinguished the flicker of sympathy he'd felt for Jowan. He drained the last of his wine, relieved that he didn't have a taste for brandy. He leaped out of the chair and hurried to his brother's study as an awful thought struck him. Oh Maker, what happened to the brandy? He was immensely relieved to find no sign of a brandy bottle and made a mental note to check exactly what had happened to it.