Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 10: Keiran

She drops in every five years around this day. 

It scares the hell out of the others but Keiran's had time to adjust to her conspicuous ways.  Being raised by her and all.  But that's changed now.  Fifteen years is a long time.  Keiran is not so negligent of Morrigan's habits any longer.  The campfire she held in the woods put the fear in Olive.  She came back into the compound looking pale and shivering under the coat that Torrance had selflessly draped over her frail shoulders. 

Camille was quick to be at her twin's side but there was something like animosity in the stare that they shared as Olive pulled away.  Something between them is amiss but Keiran doesn't have the time to worry about it at the moment.  

With his mother's arrival sending the keep into uproar and Anthony's return having a spiral effect on nearly all of them, his plate in mostly full.  Not to mention the pending self destruction of Nicolynn beats at their door mercilessly and the ever growing amount of sexual tension in Skyhold continues to taunt him.  He constantly has to remind himself that he lives in a castle with a bunch of free-range, horny teenagers that it was his genius idea to try to raise on his own.  

He wonders how well he's done sometimes.  If he did right by them.  Did he teach them enough?  Did he tell them often how proud of them their parents would be?  Did he warn them against leaving an adequate amount of times?  All of them with the exception of Anthony seemed to get the message.  But the Rutherford lad's motives were his own, and in the end, Keiran understood his leaving.  

It's his return that has the mage stumped.  He leaves, becoming a guard and trusted associate with noble ranks in Val Royeaux, earning back his family's title for the well being of his younger sister, whom he writes to only once a year on her birthday.  He returns to the stronghold, to his sister, and his friends, and his assumed lover, but for what?  And on this, the fifteenth anniversary of their parent's death?  

Keiran can't wrap his head around it.  

But the thought process eludes him as the others gather in the main hall of Skyhold, many of them still in their night clothes, looking achingly tired from disturbed slumber, or for the lack thereof.  

Adelaide sits next to Julien, wrapped in a white silk robe, her elbows in the table, her golden hair tangled in a mess of a braid as she waits for the rest of them to come to the table.  Julien is careful not to touch her, not to sit too close, not to look too long.  One misstep and Anthony with have his head.  Pierre and Claude sit down across from them, looking severely annoyed.  The two of them in a bad mood is bound to turn out bad for everyone so Keiran hopes to make this quick.  

Claude has her hair up in some sort of messy roll contraption and a smudgy green substance on her face, making her brown eyes all the more angry as they glare at him.  Pierre on the other hand doesn't point his irritation at the mage, rather he simply puts his cheek in his palm and snores back into beauty rest. 

Keiran tries to ignore the contempt they all hold him in and it's easily forgotten when two of the eldest stroll into the room making a statement.  Nicolynn's door opens on the hallway, and she and a bare torso'd Anthony step out of the room together.  Her hand is in his, tucked tightly in his grasp as if he refuses to release it.  

The elf wears a low cut tank top and a pair of loose fitting trousers, making many of them shiver just looking at her.  She must be freezing, they think.  But she isn't.  She can feel the mana warming her, coursing through her to regulate her bodies temperature in the cool air of the great hall.  Anthony scratches at his dark stumble with his free hand and forces back a yawn, trying to smile at his sister to the best of his ability.  Nicolynn's long black hair hangs in straight strands down passed her lower back, brushing his wrist as he holds her hand.  Adelaide can't help but stare.  The rest of them gather in the hall, Olive avoiding Camille, avoiding Octavia.  Chandler leans back happily against the firm surface of Phillipe's front.  Torrance stands beside Bellamy on the back wall, their arms crossed against their chest as they whisper to one another.