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Nathaniel Howe

Warden Commander of Ferelden
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Noble
Grey Warden
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183
#1
((OOC: Firstfall 15, 9:35, Afternoon - @Delilah Howe Price ))

“Thank you Guard Captain,” Nathaniel offered to the woman that sat opposite him. Guard-Captain Bridge had served as Guard-Captain of the Vigil’s Keep Guard for almost two years. Her promotion was one Nathaniel did not hesitate upon not had she proven a disappointment in her tenure. Organized and demanding, she proved better than any of the other Guard-Captains Nathaniel could remember serving at Vigil’s Keep.

He peered down at the rolls she had brought to their weekly meeting. Three new guards had been hired to replace three retirees. He would need to go meet each new guard, of course. His father always treated his guardsmen as dispensable. He ruled them through fear. Nathaniel had opted for another route, preferring a personal connection with the guards in his employ.

Before he could ask Bridge to make the arrangements, Henry entered the room, only a cursory knock warning of his entry. The Knight looked distract, a fine sweat upon his brow and chest heaving from exertion. Henry was not a man that hurried anywhere even when Nathaniel bade him too.

Henry would not have burst in for any reason. Concern knitted Nathaniel’s brow and he motioned for Henry to enter the room further rather than admonishing the man for his interruption.

“I am sorry for the interruption, my lord,” Henry began, catching his breath in between words. “It is your sister’s husband.” Had Albert come to call Nathaniel had to wonder? His relationship with Albert was cordial. He was the father of Delilah’s children, after all. He was grateful to Albert for saving Delilah from their father but she should have never wedded him. Nathaniel, even after all this time, did not feel Albert good enough for his sister.

Albert had not come for a visit, however.

“He was found dead in what looks to be a bandit attack,” Henry continued.

Whatever Nathaniel might have felt for Albert, none of it mattered, not in that moment. He stared at Henry, mentally going over each word said trying to see if he misheard. He had not, though. Albert was dead and Nathaniel needed to see his sister.

Delilah had been a rock for Nathaniel to lean upon after Fiona’s death. Many at Vigil’s Keep avoided him either not knowing what to say to him in his time of loss or too occupied with their own goings on pay mind to his. Delilah listened and comforted, as much as any comfort could be provided during those hard days. That she would experience such pain now, herself…

Anger at the situation was only tempered by the worry he felt for Delilah and he pushed away from his desk. “Excuse—“

Bridge straightened in her chair, not letting Nathaniel get out his apology. “Whatever you need, my lord.”

Nathaniel nodded once for the Guard-Captain and looked back to the still distraught Henry. Worry similar to Nathaniel’s own was etched upon his aged features. Whereas Henry was almost never without a sarcastic comment for Nathaniel, Delilah was someone the elder Knight admired a great deal. “I have your horse saddled and ready outside,” Henry said, stepping aside to make room for Nathaniel to pass.

A thank you would have been appropriate but Nathaniel gave none, the urgency to be at Delilah’s side should she want and need it fueling his steps.

~~~~~~

Nathaniel pushed Rex into a heavy lather on the way to Amaranthine, making it there faster than he could ever recall. He tied Rex off just outside the deceptively peaceful looking home Delilah called hers. No one looking upon the home might expect tragedy had struck. He sucked in a heavy breath to calm himself. Wild tendrils escaped the usually tightly wound braids about both sides of his head. He ran the flat of a palm over his wind swept hair.

His fisted hand hovered just shy of the door. To knock or to enter? The pair had not spoken since his return to Amaranthine. The reasons that bade him to stay away seemed so insignificant in the light of Albert’s death.

Delilah might still turn him admonish him but Nathaniel had to try, to let her know he could be the pillar she had been to him if she so needed him. With two knocks, he rapped his fist against the door and waited for his sister to answer.
 
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Delilah Howe Price

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#2
Delilah was standing in the middle of the front room, staring at Albert’s chair when she heard a horse. Moving to glance furtively out the window, she discovered that she was not surprised to see it was Nathaniel. She was surprised, however, by the relief that coursed over her like a cool rain.

She stepped away from the window as he rapped on the door. Delilah wondered for a moment whether he’d known before she did, but she shook her head lightly, as if to clear those thoughts.

He’d have been here sooner, if he’d known. One of the constants in their relationship has always been their ability to set aside any issue they may be having to come together when real need arose.

Right now, Delilah was numb and using that numbness to go through the motions. It had been a little more than a day since the messenger had come. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t told the children, had no idea how she was going to, or even what she should say. She thought the words, ‘Your father’s dead,’ seemed unnecessarily cruel. And yet…

She sighed, smoothing her dress then blinked hard several times to clear the threatening tears. Time enough for that, shortly.

Delilah opened the door. Her cool demeanor lasted only until she saw her brother’s disheveled appearance. Tears filled her eyes as she stood aside so he could enter the house.

“I’m glad you’re here, Nathaniel.”
 

Nathaniel Howe

Warden Commander of Ferelden
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183
#3
Delilah looked...

She did well hiding the sorrow when she first opened the door. One look at Nathaniel standing there just beyond the threshold and her stony guise melted, tears budding within her eyes.

She stepped to the side, granting Nathaniel entrance into the house, “I’m glad you’re here, Nathaniel.”

Guilt bore down upon him as he walked inside. Too long it had been since he visited. And for this to be the reason he was here? No, he bade himself, this was not about him but about him sister. Too easily he could slip into self-criticism. There would be plenty of time for that later when Delilah did not need him. And given the manner in which she greeted him, she did.

A look around the back room revealed nothing of Abigail and James. Another layer to the tragedy. This loss was not just Delilah's but also theirs. Nathaniel would never claim to be a good parent. His child, he sent off to be raised by others. He did what he thought best for her within the limits of his ability. Grey Wardens were not meant to have children. The taint cursed them for good reason.

That particular decision, to send Eunice to leave with Fergus, had been a sore point between his sister and him. Delilah wanted to raise her niece. Nathaniel wished her raised a noble and that would not happen if Delilah took her in. She had different ideas for her children.

Regardless of their differences of opinions on how to raise their children, Nathaniel would never deny what he lacked as a parent, Delilah excelled in. Her children were the most important thing her life. Their pain, she would put on herself if at all possible. Of that, Nathaniel was quite sure.

Careful not to frown and keep his expression as neutral as possible, he asked, "Have you told the children yet?"
 

Delilah Howe Price

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#4
"Have you told the children yet?"

Delilah didn’t think her brother meant the question to sound like an accusation, however, because of her own line of thinking about it, it felt that way.

“No. I...Not yet.”

As a mother, Delilah knew without any thought that she would do nearly anything to avoid intentionally causing pain or harm to her children. She also knew the longer she put off the inevitable, the more difficult it would be for her.

She was being a coward about it and she knew that Nathaniel would see that as well.

I want to make sure all of the arrangements are made first.” She tried to keep any defensiveness out of her voice.

Moving to sit down, she gestured for Nathaniel to do the same. She wiped her hands across her face, brushing away the incipient tears before meeting her brother’s gaze.

“I need to be able to get myself together first, Nathaniel.”

As close as she and Nathaniel have been in recent times, Albert was the only person who truly knew Delilah. All of her- the good, the bad, and everything in between. How in the Maker’s name was she supposed to go on from here without the man who’d been her partner in everything.

It felt very vague and distant, still. Albert was gone a lot-it was part of his job and something Delilah had grown used to ages ago. She wanted very badly for this to be a mistake, for him to walk in and wonder why she was on the verge of tears.

She knew it wasn’t going to be that way, and she knew that, as small as the children were, she would need to try to prepare them for life without their father.

“They’re napping right now,” Delilah clasped her hands in her lap as she spoke. “Will you stay until they wake up? I’ll tell them then. Only the Maker knows what I’ll say.”
 

Nathaniel Howe

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#5
“No. I...Not yet,” Delilah confessed following with further explanation that was not required, “I want to make sure all of the arrangements are made first.”

Such a thing would not be easy to tell her children. To know your words inflicted pain was no simple burden to bear. Nor was an easy thing for any child to hear, no matter their age, that their parent was dead.

The news of Rendon’s death filled Nathaniel with both rage and a sense of loss he had yet to experience in his life at the time. Regrets compounded upon regrets. Anger boiled with anger. His relationship with his father was a complicated one. Abigail and James’ relationship with Albert was not. They loved him and he them. Regardless of the faults Nathaniel found in Albert as a match for his sister, he was not deficient as a father.

Delilah took a seat and motioned for her brother to join her. Nathaniel did as bade, taking a seat across from Delilah. With the swipe of her hand against her cheeks to wipe away a dusting of fresh tears, he reached within a pocket and withdrew a linen handkerchief kept within a pocket of his doublet. “Of course,” he said quietly. If he could take this pain from her, he would without hesitation. He had not wanted them married but would not have had the marriage ended like this. Never like this.

“I need to be able to get myself together first, Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel nodded in understanding, a gentleness in his features he rarely allowed. Any sorrow she wore within her expression would only magnify the children’s grief. Abigail might not understand being so young. But James? He would. Children were far more understanding at a young age that they were often given credit for.

“They’re napping right now,” Delilah dropped her hands to her lap, setting them one atop the other. “Will you stay until they wake up? I’ll tell them then. Only the Maker knows what I’ll say.”

“I will,” Nathaniel agreed, no hesitation in his response. He leaned forward just enough to narrow the distance between them so that he might set his hand atop his sister’s. “Delilah, whatever you need.” It was a promise he might regret. Siali and Cauthrien would see to Warden matters that came up, of that he was sure. Still, were he forced to make a choice, he knew what he must do. That was a road he would cross, however, if needed and not before. For now, he gently squeezed his sister’s hands and reaffirmed, “Anything."
 

Delilah Howe Price

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#6
Delilah’s expression softened when her brother put his hand over hers.

“Delilah, whatever you need.”

She turned her hand over to gently grasp his fingers for a moment before letting go. “I know, Nathaniel. Thank you.”

There was never any doubt in Delilah’s mind that he would do whatever he could for her. She knew that he did not approve of her marriage- more because Nathaniel had some belief that she needed to be married to a noble than any real opinion about Albert as a person, Delilah thought- but he would never hold that against her.

“I sent a messenger to Denerim this morning with a letter from me to let Albert’s mother know what’s happened. With luck she will hear it from me first. Maybe when everything is settled, I will take the children down to see her.”

Albert’s mother had come to Amaranthine for their wedding, and then again when James was born, but she had not been able to make it back since.

Delilah knew that Albert was an only child and that when his father died, he took over the man’s trade connections, and eventually made a name for himself in Amaranthine. He had tried more than once to get his mother to move closer to him, but she was a strong-minded woman with her own life.

She squeezed her brother’s hand again. “I will need to go to Our Lady Redeemer and make arrangements, as well.”

“Uncle Athaniel?” James stood in the doorway of the room he shared with his sister, rubbing his eyes. “Mam, Abgail is kickin’ her bed and woke me up.” He gave an accusatory glance back into the bedroom before speeding across the room to attach himself to Nathaniel.

Shooting a look of vague alarm at her brother, Delilah left the room to get Abigail out of her crib. She returned a few moments later with her daughter on her hip. “Can you say hello to Uncle Nathaniel?” Abigail responded by burying her face in her mother’s shoulder in shyness.

Delilah sat back down, adjusting Abigail so that she was sitting in her lap. “Did you have a nice nap, darling?"
 
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Nathaniel Howe

Warden Commander of Ferelden
Canon Character
Noble
Grey Warden
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183
#7
Delilah’s touch was gentle, a soft squeeze of Nathaniel’s hand and nothing more before she released his hand, “I know, Nathaniel. Thank you. I sent a messenger to Denerim this morning with a letter from me to let Albert’s mother know what’s happened. With luck she will hear it from me first. Maybe when everything is settled, I will take the children down to see her.”

“Of course,” Nathaniel replied. Were Albert not married to a Howe, his mother would certainly hear news of his death first in Delilah’s letter. But he was married to a Howe and one with a title. Gossip, unfortunately, traveled on far faster winds than pigeons.

Delilah reached out for her brother’s hand once more, “I will need to go to Our Lady Redeemer and make arrangements, as well.”

It would take some time for Albert’s body to arrive. Delilah would have plenty to do in that time. “Let me,” he offered. Constance had seen to all the arrangements for Fiona’s service, a kindness Nathaniel was thankful for even if he believed her motives suspect.

Before Delilah could answer, James interrupted them, small hands rubbing at his eyes. “Uncle Athaniel? Mam, Abgail is kickin’ her bed and woke me up.” The tiniest of daggers shot from his eyes in the direction of the room he shared with his sister. The look lasted only a moment; the new focus of his attention was Nathaniel, James running across the room to climb upon Nathaniel’s lap.

Some people were gifted with children; always knowing the right thing to say, the right look to give. Nathaniel had never been one of those people no matter how much he cared for the children in his life. Much had been the reason he sent Eunice to foster with Fergus. He was no good as a father and felt, at times, only passable as an uncle. Nephews and nieces were easier, just barely.

His arms wrapped about James and he nodded to his sister as she sped out of the room to see to Abigail. It did not take her long to return with her daughter. “Can you say hello to Uncle Nathaniel?” she asked of Abigail, the small child hiding her face in her mother’s shoulder in response. Sitting down, Delilah asked of Abigail, “Did you have a nice nap, darling?"

A kind smile curved Nathaniel’s mouth and he tried to ease the girl’s discomfort. “This nose is quite scary, Abigail. I…” the comment came before he could stop himself, “nose it.”

There were no shortage of individuals that might have rolled their eyes or scoffed at Nathaniel’s attempt at a joke. James was not one of them. The boy launched into a fit of giggles and reached for Nathaniel’s most prominent feature with his hand.

“I like it,” James declared. “I bet it helps you smell darkspawn from far away! That’s why you are a good Warden-Commander.”

A gruff sound creased Nathaniel’s lips. “Something like that.” History would judge how good a Warden-Commander he ended up being. As to his sense of smell, that had very little to do with tracking darkspawn. Those secrets Nathaniel would most certainly would not be sharing with his nephew.

He fell quiet, not sure what to say next. What happened next would be up to his sister. As much as Nathaniel liked to take control of situations, this was one he had no part in controlling.
 

Delilah Howe Price

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#8
“This nose is quite scary, Abigail. I…” Delilah’s eyes widened slightly. No he wasn’t. “nose it.” She snorted before she could stop herself, but the sound was drowned by James’ giggles. It wasn’t often that her brother would crack a joke like that and it warmed her heart a little to see him make the effort.

“I like it,” James said, “I bet it helps you smell darkspawn from far away! That’s why you are a good Warden-Commander.”

That and Nathaniel’s gruff, “Something like that,” made her smile for a moment. Delilah sat smoothly in the chair facing her son and her brother. She took a few moments to adjust Abigail on her lap as well as to try to collect her thoughts.

In the end, Delilah understood that this-Albert’s death and its effects on the children- was a subject she and they would be handling for a long time. The children were very young, but not so young that they were beyond understanding. She just needed to keep it simple.

“James, sit still for a moment. I have news I need to share with you and your sister,” she gently squeezed Abigail before going on. “It’s about your father.”

Her son, who looked so like his father in many ways, except the cool grey eyes that currently mirrored his uncle’s, sat straighter, as if he sensed the seriousness of the situation.

Delilah met her brother’s eyes briefly before focusing on James. At 2, she knew that Abigail would more likely grasp the emotional temperature of the conversation, rather than the words themselves, but James was nearing 4 and would understand a lot more.

“Darlings, Papa has been called to the Maker’s side. He...he’s dead.” That was the first time she’d said it aloud. She thought she’d have trouble not weeping in front of the children, but she was doing fine for now.

Abigail had been quietly babbling to herself before Delilah spoke. Now she looked up at her mother and patted her hand several times. James looked at Delilah, then at Nathaniel before nodding in a surprisingly adult-seeming gesture.

“That means he’s not coming home anymore, doesn’t it?”

She hadn’t thought her heart could be anymore broken, and yet, it was. “That’s what it means, James.”

“Well, maybe the Maker will give Papa messages from us when we pray, so he doesn’t worry.”

Leave it to a child to break things down into their simplest components. Now the tears came for Delilah, softly, though. “Maybe He will, James.”
 

Nathaniel Howe

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#9
Nathaniel listened quietly as Delilah told James about the death of his father. A father James loved. A father that had been a good man and sufficient provider. A father unlike the one Nathaniel had known.

He watched as the boy absorbed all his mother had to say in only the way an innocent might. No, Albert would not be coming home. But neither did Nathaniel truly believe he would hear any prayers either. His belief in the Maker’s benevolence had long since been lost. Devotion was hard to maintain in the light of all he had witnessed. But he took no such comforts from his nephew.

James and Abigail would be fine. Delilah, however, Nathaniel was not so sure.

Nathaniel lifted a hand to run it through James’ hair before pressing his mouth against the crown of his head in a gentle kiss. “James, would you please take your sister back to your bedroom.”

Solemn, James nodded and removed himself from Nathaniel’s lap. James’ small hand took that of his sister’s within its grasp and he gently tugged on Abigail to get her to follow along. “Come on, Abi.”

When the children had left, Nathaniel left his seat and walked to his sister’s side, dropping a hand to rest atop her shoulder. “Come back to Vigil’s Keep with the children. Give yourself some time to mourn away from the eyes of Amaranthine. The news will hit the city soon if it has not already."
 

Delilah Howe Price

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#10
Delilah smiled softly as Nathaniel sent the children to go play. She thought it was good for her brother to be around the children- and good for the children to be around their uncle. His time in the Grey Wardens has sombered him a great deal, or maybe just life had done. He’d certainly known his share of loss as well, Delilah thought. So it always did her heart a good turn to see him with his niece and nephew.

Nathaniel stood and walked across the room to rest a hand on her shoulder in a gesture that touched Delilah deeply.

“Come back to Vigil’s Keep with the children. Give yourself some time to mourn away from the eyes of Amaranthine. The news will hit the city soon if it has not already."

Reaching up to pat Nathaniel’s hand gently, Delilah shook her head softly. “I can’t, Nathaniel. As much as James might love that, he would drive everyone mad with questions.” She rose gracefully to face her brother, taking the hand that had been on her shoulder between her hands.

“Mourning isn’t something that needs to be hidden away, Brother. It is my duty as Bann to represent and be here for the people of Amaranthine.” She flashed a glint of gentle humor at Nathaniel. “By your doing, even.”

“No. Nathaniel, I need to mourn here. There will be others who cared for Albert who will want to share his loss.” Delilah sighed before going on, “I will want to share his loss with others. Thank you, my darling brother, for the offer-and I will bring the children at some point- but under happier circumstances. I want what memories the children will have of the Vigil to be happy ones if that’s possible.
 

Nathaniel Howe

Warden Commander of Ferelden
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#11
The gentle pat of Delilah’s hand was enough reveal Delilah’s answer to Nathaniel before she could speak it. “I can’t, Nathaniel. As much as James might love that, he would drive everyone mad with questions.”

Her seat abandoned, Delilah rose to her full height to take Nathaniel’s hand in hers. “Mourning isn’t something that needs to be hidden away, Brother. It is my duty as Bann to represent and be here for the people of Amaranthine.” A smile, not for lacking humor, formed upon her lips. “By your doing, even.”

Hiding away was not entirely why Nathaniel made the suggestion. Delilah needed to be around family and where better than at Vigil’s Keep. As much as he would want to stay in the city to be at her side, realities would make such a thing impossible.

Silently he chastised himself for his selfishness.

“No. Nathaniel, I need to mourn here. There will be others who cared for Albert who will want to share his loss. I will want to share his loss with others. Thank you, my darling brother, for the offer-and I will bring the children at some point- but under happier circumstances. I want what memories the children will have of the Vigil to be happy ones if that’s possible.”

Perhaps it was time for one generation of Howes to have nothing but happy memories of Vigil’s Keep. Nathaniel’s childhood remembrances were tainted by the words and actions of his father. Words and actions he knew his sister incapable of repeating. She was a good mother that truly loved her children for whom they were, not for what they might garner her in the future. Such a way of thinking was one he personally struggled with. He looked to his daughter and could not view her the same way as Delilah did her children.

Yet another reason why Eunice now resided in Highever. Nathaniel was not fit to be a father, not in the way a child needed.

“I only want to help.” His eyes dropped down to their interlaced fingers before dragging upward slowly to focus upon Delilah. “When Fiona died….” The line of his jaw tightened, “People were not kind.” Of course, Delilah’s circumstances were not entirely the same. People loved her and she was just a Bann. No Arl. No first born son of one of Fereldan’s greatest traitors.

A weak smile slid into place, “It is a big brother’s prerogative to be over-protective. In fact, I would say it is a mandate."
 
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