Nathaniel Howe
Warden Commander of Ferelden
Canon Character
Noble
Grey Warden
Post DAI Timeline
DAO/DA2 Timeline
- Posts
- 183
((OOC: Firstfall 10, 9:35 - Morning))
Nathaniel sat on the edge of the bed, a single piece of parchment held in hand. His shoulders sank as he read once again what little there was written upon the paper.
I am sorry.
I cannot do this.
Velanna
Velanna was gone.
The rooms he provided her upon their return to Vigil’s Keep from Denerim were kept tidy, Velanna having few personal belongings. Those things Nathaniel had provided her since she stormed back into his life were stacked neatly behind him upon the bed. The necklace he had made for her rested softly atop the cloak he gifted her for Satinalia. The oleander plant he purchased sat upon a nightstand next to the bed.
Velanna was gone and she took nothing of him with her.
Nathaniel sucked in a slow breath, his mind running over everything that happened over the last few days, desperately searching for a reason why. Why now? What had he done? What did he not do?
The night before nothing appeared wrong. They shared dinner and the rest of the night together. When he awoke, she was gone, but that was not entirely irregular. Velanna had made a habit of waking early to enjoy the peace of the fortress before the masses awoke and polluted Vigil’s Keep with noise and activity.
Nathaniel dressed and searched her out in the rose garden he had constructed for her before their return. When he did not find her there, he searched next the dining hall and then her rooms. Neatly folded atop the pile of gifts he found her note.
I cannot do this.
Cannot or would not, he asked himself, anger mixing with a sense of loss he had not felt in some time. Rage at himself for having failed Velanna in some way. Rage at letting her to do him what she had done once before. Rage at himself for having hoped and finding only disappointment again.
The signs has been there, he supposed. Signs he chose to ignore because he hoped. There had been the way she uncomfortably shifted when he showed her the garden, her garden. He had thought at the time perhaps her discomfort was her not being used to receiving such gifts. There had been the way she kissed him the night before, a quiet desperation within the movement of her lips he attributed to passion more than the finality she felt.
Velanna was gone and he was a fool.
He had sworn to Cauthrien she would not leave. Not this time. He had sworn she would stay and was here for the Grey Wardens. The Grey Wardens, no he, had offered her a place to call home. Stability and safety she had been missing. But perhaps she did not miss those things at all, or at least not enough to stay. Not enough to stay with him.
Pain lashed out in the only way available to Nathaniel. He rose from the bed and retrieved the plant, a symbol of his promise to Velanna. She had roots here with him. She had a home. She had him.
The plant crashed against the wall, pottery, dirt and petals scattering the ground after impact.
Nathaniel sat on the edge of the bed, a single piece of parchment held in hand. His shoulders sank as he read once again what little there was written upon the paper.
I am sorry.
I cannot do this.
Velanna
Velanna was gone.
The rooms he provided her upon their return to Vigil’s Keep from Denerim were kept tidy, Velanna having few personal belongings. Those things Nathaniel had provided her since she stormed back into his life were stacked neatly behind him upon the bed. The necklace he had made for her rested softly atop the cloak he gifted her for Satinalia. The oleander plant he purchased sat upon a nightstand next to the bed.
Velanna was gone and she took nothing of him with her.
Nathaniel sucked in a slow breath, his mind running over everything that happened over the last few days, desperately searching for a reason why. Why now? What had he done? What did he not do?
The night before nothing appeared wrong. They shared dinner and the rest of the night together. When he awoke, she was gone, but that was not entirely irregular. Velanna had made a habit of waking early to enjoy the peace of the fortress before the masses awoke and polluted Vigil’s Keep with noise and activity.
Nathaniel dressed and searched her out in the rose garden he had constructed for her before their return. When he did not find her there, he searched next the dining hall and then her rooms. Neatly folded atop the pile of gifts he found her note.
I cannot do this.
Cannot or would not, he asked himself, anger mixing with a sense of loss he had not felt in some time. Rage at himself for having failed Velanna in some way. Rage at letting her to do him what she had done once before. Rage at himself for having hoped and finding only disappointment again.
The signs has been there, he supposed. Signs he chose to ignore because he hoped. There had been the way she uncomfortably shifted when he showed her the garden, her garden. He had thought at the time perhaps her discomfort was her not being used to receiving such gifts. There had been the way she kissed him the night before, a quiet desperation within the movement of her lips he attributed to passion more than the finality she felt.
Velanna was gone and he was a fool.
He had sworn to Cauthrien she would not leave. Not this time. He had sworn she would stay and was here for the Grey Wardens. The Grey Wardens, no he, had offered her a place to call home. Stability and safety she had been missing. But perhaps she did not miss those things at all, or at least not enough to stay. Not enough to stay with him.
Pain lashed out in the only way available to Nathaniel. He rose from the bed and retrieved the plant, a symbol of his promise to Velanna. She had roots here with him. She had a home. She had him.
The plant crashed against the wall, pottery, dirt and petals scattering the ground after impact.
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