So Liz won’t leave me alone until I write her LizZev story. Even though Zev won’t show up for ages. Dramallamas ahoy! 😀
Spoilers for the Human Noble origin, obviously, and for Origins in general. Cousland/Zevran, obviously, with hints of Morristair.
Next chapter: Ostagar
Highever, Autumn
“Father?” Elizabeth Cousland walked briskly into the great hall of Castle Highever. “Oh! I did not know you had company already…”
“I’ll send my eldest off with my men at once,” Bryce Cousland was saying to his friend, Rendon Howe. “No need to keep the king waiting. But tomorrow, you and I will ride out just like the old days!”
Rendon Howe chuckled. “Though we both had less grey in our hair, and we fought Orlesians, not… monsters.”
“But they’ll still smell the same,” Bryce said, laughing in turn. “Ah, pup, I didn’t see you there. Come greet Rendon! Rendon, I don’t think you’ve seen my daughter Elizabeth in some time.”
“You have grown lovelier than ever, Lady Elizabeth,” Rendon said, bowing to her.
“Thank you, Arl Howe,” Elizabeth said, curtseying in her dress of blue Antivan silk. “I hear your men have been delayed on the roads?”
“Indeed,” Howe said, sniffing with distaste. “The rains have done terrible things to the highway. I am glad that I came on ahead.”
“Fergus will lead the Highever soldiers to Ostagar today, and tomorrow Rendon and I will ride with the Amaranthine men.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Rendon said, “my son Thomas was asking after you. Perhaps I should let him come next time, when we aren’t running around playing warrior.”
Elizabeth blushed, trying to figure out what exactly the arl meant by that. But at her age, there was really only one meaning behind those words. “Ah… Thomas is rather younger than me, isn’t he?”
Bryce laughed. “You can’t get her to look twice at a boy, Rendon. My fierce girl is all tomboy under that demure face.”
“Father…” Elizabeth murmured, embarrassed.
Rendon Howe did not look put out. “It is no matter. I’d offer to acquaint her with my eldest son, but he is still training in the Free Marches.”
“At any rate, pup, were you looking for me? I was about to send for you, so that works nicely.”
“I was sent word that Mother wishes to speak to you about Fergus as soon as you can. What do you wish, Father?”
“I wanted to remind you that while your brother and I are both away, you are in charge of the castle.”
“I remember, Father. I… I’m not certain I’m ready, but I’ll do my best…”
“All you have to do is keep peace in the region; I’m sure Gilmore will be eager to assist you. But you know what they say about mice when the cats are away, yes? Be alert for bandits and the like. I’m sure we won’t be gone long. There shouldn’t be too much difficult administration before we return. But I’m also reminding you of this because we have another guest…” He turned to a servant. “Please show Duncan in.”
Duncan was a man in his forties with a full black beard. He wore armour of a make Elizabeth was not familiar with. “It is an honour to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland. Lady Elizabeth, I presume.” Elizabeth curtseyed again.
Rendon turned immediately to Bryce. “Your Lordship, you didn’t mention that a Grey Warden would be present.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. The Grey Wardens were famous, verging on the realm of fairy-tale heroes, and with good reason.
“Duncan arrived only a couple hours ago, unannounced,” Bryce told Rendon soothingly. “Is that a problem?”
“Of course not. I am only… at a disadvantage with a guest of this stature,” Rendon said. “Forgive me, ser,” he said to Duncan.
“It is of no matter, Arl Howe,” Duncan said, his voice low and unconcerned.
“It’s true,” Bryce said. “We rarely have the pleasure of meeting a Grey Warden in person. You remember what Brother Aldous taught you of the Wardens, right, pup?”
“They’re an order of great warriors who defeated the darkspawn four hundred years ago,” Elizabeth said, smiling at her father.
“Not permanently, I fear,” Duncan said.
“Without their warning of the darkspawn rising now, half the nation might have been overrun before we could assemble an army. But Duncan is here on a more personal matter, am I correct?”
“I am looking for promising recruits before joining my fellow Wardens at Ostagar. People strong of mind and stature, brave and tenacious.”
“You might consider my friend, Ser Gilmore,” Elizabeth said. “He is all of those things.”
“I observed him earlier. But if I might be so bold, I would suggest that Lady Elizabeth is also an excellent candidate.”
Bryce shook his head. “Thank you for the honour, but no. I’ve not so many children I’ll gladly see them all off to war. Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription?”
Elizabeth looked from the Warden to her father, but made no answer. Inside, she was intrigued by the Wardens, and she would rather have liked to join her father and brother in battle… and if it was also beside Wardens, all the more exciting. She had never considered becoming a Warden herself… Although, if Duncan used the Right of Conscription, she would not have a choice in the matter. It didn’t matter which country they were in, all Grey Wardens had the right to conscript new members to their darkspawn-killing, peace-keeping cause.
“Have no fear,” Duncan assured her father. “While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I do not intend to force the issue.”
“Thank you,” Bryce said. “Elizabeth, can you ensure that Duncan is comfortable while I am gone?”
“Yes, Father,” Elizabeth said. “It will be an honour.”
Bryce nodded. “In the meantime, you should find Fergus and tell him of the change in plan. I assume that is what your mother wished to speak to me about; tell her I will speak with her very soon. First I must discuss the battle in the south with Duncan and Rendon.”
“Yes, Father,” Elizabeth said, and smiled. “Right away.” She curtseyed to all three men. “I will see you later, my lords.”
She strode briskly out of the hall and up the narrow passage between hall and soldiers’ quarters, looking for her brother or mother. Her brother, she assumed, would be spending some time with his wife and son in his rooms before he left, and he would be leaving sooner than he was expecting, perhaps. Her mother… she did not know where she would be. She had guests; perhaps she would be in the garden.
After only a few paces, a broad-shouldered, redheaded young man stepped out of an alcove and took a position two steps behind her. “Lady Elizabeth.”
“Ser Gilmore.” She kept her head high and did not look at him.
“Would my lady give me leave to accompany her?”
“Certainly she would,” she answered, and now she looked at him, and they shared a smile that was almost a conspiratorial smirk. “Have you seen my mother?”
“I believe she is in the garden, my lady.”
“Then I will see her on the way to Fergus.” She continued walking up towards the noble residence at the back of the castle. Ser Gilmore, her personal knight and best friend, followed her. He was only a few years older than her, but they had essentially grown up together – they were closer in age than she was to her brother. He was the son of the Bann of a small county in the Bannorn, but he had served Highever as a squire and then as a knight for many years.
“What is the news? Is it true there’s a Grey Warden here?”
“Indeed it’s true. His name is Duncan. I told him you might be a good recruit.”
“Did you? Thank you. I should love to become a Grey Warden. Is that why he’s here? He’s recruiting?”
“I think so. He suggested I would also be a good candidate, but Father wasn’t happy about that.”
“I suppose he wouldn’t be. Well, maybe you can introduce me to him later?”
“All right, but if he does take you, you must promise not to have too much fun without me.”
“I promise to be miserable,” Gilmore said solemnly with a twinkle in his eye.
“In other news, Arl Howe’s men have indeed been delayed as we guessed, so Fergus will be taking our army south as soon as may be so as not to keep the king waiting, and Father and Arl Howe will ride out tomorrow as soon as the Amaranthine men arrive.”
“I see. That’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I must tell Fergus to stop lounging about again.”
“Ah, siblings… Wish I had some.”
“No you don’t,” Elizabeth said tartly. “You have me.”
“My lady is too kind,” he teased her. “Is the Grey Warden going to the battle too, eventually? It is darkspawn, after all.”
“I think so. He said something about Ostagar and other Wardens. I hope to ask him more later.”
She turned up towards the garden and saw her mother almost at once. “Mother.”
Eleanor Cousland turned to her daughter and caught her by the shoulders, looking severe. “Elizabeth. Darling. What have we talked about with the sparring?”
“That it’s unladylike…”
“Yes, and?”
“I shouldn’t do it when there are guests- but Mother, this morning there weren’t any guests.”
“Did you not know that a Grey Warden was visiting?”
“No, truly. I only knew when Father introduced him to me a few moments ago. Father says he will come speak with you very soon, too. He is just talking to Arl Howe and Duncan.”
“Very well. But dear, you’re wearing your nicest silk dress… I hope you cleaned after you did your playfighting with Ser Gilmore.”
“Yes, Mother. I used the washcloth. I even used soap today. The dress won’t spoil.”
“All right, then.” Eleanor let go of her daughter. “Come greet Lady Landra, darling. Landra, you remember my daughter, right?”
“I believe we met at your mother’s spring salon,” Lady Landra said to Elizabeth.
“It’s good to see you again, my lady,” Elizabeth said, dropping yet another curtsey.
“You’re too kind,” Lady Landra said, laughing. “I think I spent the entire salon trying to convince you to marry my son.”
“And making a very poor case of it too, I might add, Mother,” said Landra’s son, laughing in turn. “Hello again, Lady Elizabeth.”
“Yes, you’ve met Dairren before, haven’t you? He’s not married yet either,” Landra said sotto voce, and Elizabeth blushed, and Dairren laughed again, and Gilmore coughed and tried to look invisible. Eleanor only smirked.
“Don’t listen to her,” Dairren said to Elizabeth, chuckling still. “It’s good to see you, and may I say you look more beautiful than ever.”
“Thank you,” she said, rather coolly. She was not interested in Dairren. He was plain, and unimaginative, and she had not been impressed by him either at the spring salon or in the tournament the year before.
“And she fights like a man,” Gilmore muttered to himself, and she wanted to elbow him, but that would definitely have been unladylike, so she refrained.
“And there’s my handmaiden, Iona,” Lady Landra continued, gesturing to a pretty blonde elf. “Go on, say something, dear.”
“Hello, my lady,” said the elf very softly, curtseying. “You are as pretty as your mother describes.”
Elizabeth was getting rather tired of this, but she was locked in the conversation as her mother began complaining about how hard it was to find someone to marry Elizabeth, and of the dearth of grandchildren…
At length, Lady Landra said she would retire until dinner, and Elizabeth finally had time to pass on her message about Fergus, and head up to her brother’s room.
She knocked on the door and waited for her brother to call out “Come in!” Gilmore waited in the hall for her.
Fergus was seated on the bench at one side of the room, with his wife Oriana beside him and his son Oren on his knee. “Ah, little sister! Is Father ready to go yet?”
“Actually, Father isn’t leaving just yet,” Elizabeth said. “But you are leaving according to the original plan. Arl Howe’s men aren’t here yet. When they get here, Father will go with them.”
“I see… You’d think his men were all walking backwards, wouldn’t you?” Fergus sighed in exasperation.
“Is there really going to be a war, papa?” little Oren interrupted. “Will you bring me back a suh-word?”
“A sword?” Fergus chuckled. “I’ll bring you back the mightiest one I can find, I promise. Don’t worry, lad, I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I wish I could be so certain,” Oriana murmured with her light Antivan accent. “My heart is disquiet…”
“Mama?” Oren asked.
Elizabeth swung the boy up into her arms. “Your papa speaks the truth, Oren. Don’t be worried.”
“That’s right,” Fergus said, turning to his wife. “Dry your eyes, love, and wish me well.” He gave her a kiss.
“Should we wait outside?” Elizabeth teased.
“No, stay,” Fergus said sternly, then smiled. “I’d like to say farewell to everyone at once. We already said our farewells last night…” Oriana pinched his arm and he yelped.
“I keep wishing I could come with you,” Elizabeth said.
“I’d be glad to have you, believe me,” Fergus answered. “It’ll be tiring, killing all those darkspawn myself!” Elizabeth smiled.
“In Antiva, a noblewoman fighting would be unthinkable,” Oriana said, part of a long-standing argument between her and Elizabeth.
“Is that so?” Fergus asked. “I’d always heard Antivan woman were quite dangerous.” He winked.
Oriana huffed. “With kindness and poison only, my husband.”
“And you serve me my tea!”
“What are they talking about?” Oren asked.
Elizabeth bounced her nephew in her arms. “Whether girls should fight. Do you think girls should fight?”
“I think I should fight,” Oren announced. “But I’m not a girl. You fight, Auntie! But you’re not a girl either. You’re Auntie.”
Fergus chuckled. “Word from the south is that the battles have gone well,” he said. “That it’s not a Blight, only a large raid.”
“A very large raid,” Oriana said disapprovingly.
“I’ll see for myself soon enough,” Fergus told her. “Pray for me, love, and I’ll be back in a month or two. If it’s any consolation, I’ll be freezing my toes off in the winter mud of the Korkari Wilds and be completely jealous of you up here in this snug warm castle.”
“Ser Gilmore said something similar,” Elizabeth said.
“I hope you brought enough socks…” Oriana murmured to herself.
“It’s a Ferelden thing to forget enough socks,” Bryce Cousland joked as he and Eleanor entered. “I’m not sure why; the other nations enjoy pointing out that we have enough mud.”
Eleanor clasped her son’s face in her hands. “Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day that you are away.”
“Thank you, Mother. But no darkspawn will ever best me!”
Oriana began murmuring a prayer to the Maker. “Bring our sons, husbands, and fathers safely back to us…”
“And bring us some ale and wenches while you’re at it!” Fergus teased with a laugh.
“Fergus!” scolded his wife.
“What’s a wench?” asked Oren innocently.
“Er, a wench is… the woman who pours ale in a tavern,” Bryce explained to his grandson. “Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale,” he added in a lower voice, and Fergus laughed while Eleanor sighed.
“Bryce! It’s like living with a pair of little boys. Thankfully, I have a daughter. Although she too insists on running about with a sword every morning.”
“Didn’t you fight when you were my age, Mother?” Elizabeth retorted.
“I did, but I like to think I won your father’s heart with more… feminine arts.” Behind Eleanor, Bryce mouthed “No, she didn’t” while shaking his head exaggeratedly.
Fergus laughed. “I’ll miss you, Mother-dear. Bethy, you’ll take care of them all while you’re in charge of the castle, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” Elizabeth said.
“You’re going to be in charge?” Oren exclaimed, and wriggled so much she had to put him down again. “So you can do whatever you like?”
Elizabeth laughed. “No, Oren. I have many responsibilities. It will be hard, but I’ll have Mother to help me.”
“Only for a few days, dear, and then I’m going to accompany Lady Landra to her estate for a while. She’d like some company while her husband is away at the war too, and my presence here might undermine your authority.”
Elizabeth’s face fell. “Mother, I’m only eighteen… do you really think I’m ready to be all by myself?”
“You’re ready for anything, Bethy,” Fergus said, slapping her back. “I had to do it a few years ago when Father was away at that Landsmeet. You can’t do worse than I did!”
“You did fine, Fergus,” Bryce said. “Now you face a new challenge. But I’ll be following after you.”
“That’s right. Well, I’d better go, then,” Fergus announced. “So many darkspawn to behead, so little time!” He kissed his wife again, ruffled his son’s hair, and strode to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Father!”
In an hour, Elizabeth and Gilmore were sitting on the edge of the highest parapet, eating apples, pretending they were much younger than they were. They had watched Fergus march out at the head of their army, his mabari warhound Goldie at his side, and Elizabeth had waved heartily even though her brother was not watching – though he did look back once, and wave, though more likely he was waving to Oren and Oriana, also waving on the lower wall. Now Elizabeth kicked the wall with her light leather shoes and wondered if she could throw her apple core all the way out to the road in front of the front gate, but decided against it – someone could get hurt.
“And tomorrow you will be lady and mistress of all this,” Gilmore said, gesturing to the rolling wooded hills and valleys of fields that was Highever. Everything was golden in the light of late autumn; the trees were in various shades between blazing and drab.
“I do have plans, you know,” she confided in him. “I’m going to start with a general inspection, and then drills, and then we’ll march out on patrol…”
“What about the castle, my lady?”
“I’m still debating whether I should go on patrol and leave you here, or if I should stay here and send you out. Both have merits and demerits.”
“Can’t you get someone else to take care of the castle so we can both go?”
“Who, Nan?” Elizabeth laughed. “Brother Aldous? Neither of them want that job. I have to be at least a little bit responsible while I’m playing at Teyrna.”
He looked at her curiously. “Lady Elizabeth, do you want to become Teyrna?”
“I… would like to take responsibility for a realm, certainly. Maybe not Highever, although it will always be my home… I feel like I’m waiting for something to change. There’s someone I need to meet, or something unexpected needs to redirect my life, before I can know for certain what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. Maker knows I cause enough trouble for something to happen,” she added, and Gilmore chuckled.
“But you’re so polite and charming in public! …What if the Grey Warden did try to recruit you? What would you think?”
“I’m… not sure. I haven’t thought about it much. I… know it would be heroic, but I think I’m content to stay as I am, as a not-Grey Warden. Besides, you don’t think he was serious when he said he was considering me, do you?”
“Why not? Begging your pardon, my lady, but besides the fact that this Duncan doesn’t seem the type to be anything but serious, you are no ordinary noblewoman… no, you are no ordinary woman. You’re strong and skilled and the equal of any man on the sparring ground or off it.”
“I’ve never actually fought in real life, except that one time the hunt was attacked by a bear…”
“With whom you fought valiantly before your brother slew it. I think Duncan would be a fool to overlook you. Some of the men even say you’d make a better Teyrna than your brother a Teyrn, did you know that?”
“I didn’t. …Thank you for telling me, now I have something to bother him with when he returns… not seriously, of course.”
Gilmore laughed. “Of course, my lady.”
There was a hail from the wall below. “Lady Elizabeth?”
“Yes, ser?” Elizabeth called down.
“Teyrna Eleanor requests that you remove your dog from the kitchen pantry.”
“I understand, and thank you,” Elizabeth answered. “No rest for the wicked,” she said to Gilmore. “Will you continue to accompany me?”
“As my lady wishes,” Gilmore said, offering her his hand to help her off the parapet. She didn’t need it, and he knew she didn’t, and she knew he knew. She accepted it anyway.
Nan was in a huff at the door to the kitchen, the elf scullery maids and boys behind her. “Finally! Lady Elizabeth, with all due respect, get your bloody mutt out of the larder! The elves are useless and won’t go a pace near it! Bloody mongrel…”
Elizabeth forced a soft smile on her face. She didn’t like hearing anyone talking ill of anyone else, not even elves, and certainly not her dog, but Nan was old and crotchety and had once been Elizabeth’s nurse, and her cross exterior belied an incredibly caring heart. “I’m sorry he’s bothering you, Nan. I’ve asked him before not to…”
“Just get him gone!” Nan complained. “I may not have a castle full of hungry soldiers to feed at the moment, but just wait until tomorrow when those Amaranthines come marching in! Men on the march eat as much as men at home, if not more, especially when it’s on someone else’s bill! I’ve enough to worry about keeping the castle in order without chasing around your hound as well! I should just retire and let you all take care of your own messes! Maker knows I’ve earned it…”
“All right, Nan. I’m going to go fetch him.”
“Stop standing there like idiots!” Nan snapped at the elves. “Get out of Lady Elizabeth’s way!”
Elizabeth strode in to the kitchen, which was in some disarray, with preparations for evening supper abruptly abandoned. There was her adorable 180 pound wardog, Huan, growling at the entrance to the larder door. She had named him for a character in one of her favourite adventure stories. “Is something in there, boy?” His growling rose a notch, whirring like a millstone at high speed. “Do you want to take a look before we let Nan get on with her work?”
“Is that wise?” Gilmore asked. “Nan won’t be happy if we aren’t quick.”
“Nan won’t leave, whatever she threatens. Just a look. It might be important. It can’t be that he’s found the treats… they’re right there on the table.”
She cracked open the door to the larder.
Huan shouldered it open the rest of the way and bounded in, and in the light of the torch bracketed to the wall, she saw gleaming eyes of animals large as cats, and yet not cats.
“Rats!” Gilmore cried, drawing his sword and shield. “Giant rats! It’s like the beginning of every bad adventure story my grandfather used to tell.”
“Give me your sword!” Elizabeth cried, hurrying them both inside and slamming the door so none would escape into the kitchen.
“What, but then I’ll have-”
“I only have this dress, and you have armour and your knife! Get to it, man!”
“Right you are,” Gilmore said, and passed over his sword.
Huan was already in the thick of things, crunching rats with his powerful jaws. Elizabeth swung the sword at the furry creatures, her first priority to keep her dress intact and as clean as possible, for her mother would scold her dreadfully if the rats tore it or bled on it. They were quick and vicious, but fortunately for her, Huan was taking the bulk of the work, his hunter reflexes helping him drive the rats away from her.
Gilmore was doing the best he could on the other side of her, but his knife was not very long and he had to stoop to effectively strike the quick rats. He was wary of doing so, aware that one of them could jump on his throat and face, though he also had his shield to help him.
Elizabeth wished she was not wearing company clothes, that she could fight properly, but she had little choice at this point, and she still managed to hit some of the rats. Huan finished them off for her a moment later.
The final killcount was four for Elizabeth, five for Gilmore, and at least a dozen for Huan, by the time the scuttling noises and squeaking ceased. Now Huan sat quietly, scratching his ear and looking bemused by all the small dead furry bodies.
“We are victorious!” cried Gilmore, holding aloft his dagger triumphantly.
She smirked and flicked the sword-point at him, spattering him with small droplets of blood, before handing it back to him. He wiped it off his face and flicked his knife at her in turn, and his face turned absolutely horror-stricken a fraction of a second before a fine line of blood drops landed across her bodice.
“Oh Maker, I am so sorry! Oh, your mother is going to kill me for ruining…”
“It’s fine,” Elizabeth said. “I will take care of it.”
“But it’s silk… Isn’t it supposed to be impossible to clean? My armour just wipes down, I forgot about you…”
“I have my ways,” she said. “But I should change and deal with it before Mother sees, yes.” Huan looked up at her, tongue lolling out quizzically. “No, Huan, you may not lick the blood off this time. That would only make it worse.”
“I’m so sorry…”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later. Make yourself scarce for twenty minutes and then I shall come find you again.”
“As you say, my lady.”
“Now let’s get out of here before Nan explodes.”
“After you, my lady.”
“There he is, as brazen as you please,” Nan said to Huan as they exited the kitchen. “No doubt he helped himself to the roast while he was in there, licking his chops like that. You two didn’t help him, did you? What was all that shouting?”
“I’m sorry for taking so long, Nan. There were giant rats in the larder. We killed them all.”
“G-giant rats?” squeaked one of the elves.
Nan sighed. “Now look what you’ve done, you’ve made the servants all jumpy. None of them will go in there alone now.”
“He made sure it’s safe,” Elizabeth said, ruffling her dog’s ears, and hoping to distract her old nurse from noticing the discolourations on her dress.
“I’m sure that mutt let those rats in there to begin with,” Nan said, ushering the servants back into the kitchen. “And now someone has to clean up the mess…”
Huan lifted his face to her and made a sad whine.
“Don’t even start with the sad eyes!” Nan commanded. “I’m immune to your so-called charms.”
Huan whined some more, even more mournfully.
“Fine, fine,” Nan sighed, and tossed the dog some bits. “Take these pork rinds, and never say Nan never did anything for you! Bloody dog.”
Huan barked happily and snatched up the pork bits before running back outdoors.
“I’m sorry, Nan,” Elizabeth said again.
“Yes, yes, be off with you. I’ve a dinner to prepare, girl.”
True to her word, in twenty minutes Elizabeth was changed, and found Gilmore at the entrance to the castle chapel.
“I hope those rats have nothing to do with the darkspawn,” she said, rather troubled.
“They were from the far south, that much I can tell. I hope the same as you.”
She looked inside the chapel to where Mother Malol knelt before the icon of Andraste. “While we’re here, shall we pray that Fergus comes to no harm, and that those rats aren’t a symbol of worse things to come?”
Gilmore smiled. “Don’t be paranoid, my lady. But yes, let’s.”
Elizabeth was maybe not a very good follower of Andraste. But she did try to pray, when she remembered, and she did respect the Brothers and Sisters of the Chantry.
After she said her prayers, she spent some time with her father and Arl Howe; for the latter, a shadow of something might have crossed his face when she wished him luck for the upcoming battle with the darkspawn. She wondered what it might mean, or perhaps if she had imagined it.
Duncan was present too, a quiet shadow in a corner of the hall. He seemed to be observing more than just martial prowess, though that made sense when she thought about it. She asked Duncan as many questions as she dared about Grey Wardens and darkspawn, Gilmore an eager eavesdropper. Duncan seemed a very patient man, a man whose calm was born of vast experience, but she had no doubt he was the fiercest fighter she had yet met.
Dinner was an awkward affair, for she was seated between Dairren and Arl Howe. The former she had no interest in, and the latter was only interested in talking to her father. But when Rendon and Bryce began telling tales of their battles against the Orlesian occupation, she had something to listen to eagerly, and could hush Dairren in his awkward courtship.
After dinner, her father called her and kissed her good night. “Get some sleep, pup. You have a big day tomorrow.”
Elizabeth was woken in what ought to have been the dead of night by her mabari growling at the door, instead of lying in his usual place at the foot of her bed.
“Hnnn?” she grunted groggily. “Down, boy. Trying to sleep.”
Instead, his ominous growling turned into furious barking. Clearly, something was wrong. And… was that smoke she smelled?
She flung the covers off and turned to her sword and shield before edging towards the door. But Huan didn’t want her to get to the door. “What’s wrong, Huan? I need to go investigate.” He growled at her.
The door slammed open – she had never needed to lock her door at night – and three armoured soldiers burst in. She didn’t know any of them. “State your business!” she commanded, and instead they began to advance on her. There was a fourth one outside the door, aiming a crossbow at her.
There was the briefest instant in which she realized they were actually going to attack her, to try to kill her, and she would have to fight for her life. Her only defense was her nightgown and the locket she always wore. Her eyes widened.
Huan leaped on one man, bearing him to the ground and initiating a desperate struggle. That left two for Elizabeth to deal with before getting to the archer, and she had to negotiate her rather large bedstead to attack them. Although, that meant that they did too.
“Who are you?” she screamed with rage, her sword flashing to the attack despite her lack of armour. She would put it on as soon as she could. For now she would have to be clever with her shield.
“Damned hound!” the one on the floor was shouting, trying and failing to draw his dagger. “Get him off me! He’ll wake the whole castle!” There was a horrible gurgling cry as Huan tore his throat out and instantly bounded for the crossbowman before the ones attacking Elizabeth could react.
Elizabeth was no mean swordsman, despite having woken up only seconds before, and had already deflected one crossbow bolt with her shield while beating back one soldier. The other was trying to flank her, but Elizabeth was keeping her tall chest of drawers where he couldn’t get around it – and her.
Fear and anger warred within her breast. It was their lives or hers. She gritted her teeth and went for a killing blow – and almost staggered in shock when it connected.
The other soldier swore, and she struck him with her shield, battering down his defenses, trying to find a weak spot in his armour. She jumped across the bed, away from the dead bodies spilling blood across her floor, as his sword struck at her defenseless legs, and she backed into the other side of her room as he came at her again.
He still thought he could best her. She could read it in his eyes, the set of his lips. But she’d had the best tutors in everything, including swordplay. She doubted very much he’d had the same.
Rage was rapidly winning out over fear, and he was unprepared for her fierce counterattack with both shield and sword.
Huan barked in the doorway, as the body of the soldier collapsed to the floor.
“Oh, Huan, you’re all right! What in the Maker’s name is going on? Stand watch while I get my armour on.” She tugged her waist-length chestnut waves into a ponytail and reached for her clothes. She wasn’t going to investigate without a proper tunic and trousers at the very least. And perhaps there would be time to get a breastplate on, maybe some bracers…
“Elizabeth!” Her mother now stood in the door, in full leather armour herself, and a quiver at her back and a bow in her hand. “Darling! You’re all right!”
“Mother!” Elizabeth cried. “So are you!”
“Hurry and get your armour on, dear. I think you and Huan have slain all the invaders sent to this part of the castle, but more will certainly come.”
“Who are they, Mother? What’s going on?” Elizabeth flung on her steel breastplate, her fingers working frantically at the buckles.
“I don’t know,” Eleanor said slowly, looking down the hall towards the courtyard door. “Whoever it is knows that Fergus and our soldiers are away…”
Elizabeth did up the last buckle of her left greave and, glancing over the closest dead soldier, gasped. “Mother…”
On the shoulder of the soldier’s leather armour was the brown bear of Amaranthine.
She could hear the grinding of her mother’s teeth from where she knelt. “That traitorous, cowardly scum… Howe is behind this!? I’ll tear him apart myself!” With an effort, Eleanor regained her composure. “Quickly, dear. We must see that Oren and Oriana are safe, and Landra and her people, and Warden Duncan.”
A cold weight dropped into Elizabeth’s stomach. In all the rush, she had forgotten about everything but surviving and getting armour on. “Surely they would have heard Huan’s barking.”
“I hope they had the sense to stay in their chambers if they heard it…” Eleanor crossed the hall. “Oriana? It’s Eleanor. Are you all right?”
There was no answer, and Eleanor shoved the door open urgently.
She screamed, and Elizabeth gasped, both staring in horrified grief at the bodies of woman and child.
Eleanor knelt beside Oren. “Poor child… poor boy…” She smoothed the hair back from his forehead and closed his eyes. “Ah, poor Oriana… Poor Fergus!” She began to weep, rocking slowly back and forth with her grandson’s hand clasped between her own.
“Mother,” Elizabeth said. “We must find Father. We must find if any of our remaining soldiers survive.”
Eleanor gulped back another sob and stood. “You are right, Elizabeth.” She turned and laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You… would truly have made a fine leader for the teyrnir.”
Elizabeth stared briefly at her mother, not wanting to process those words yet. She turned and made for the door. “We still have to check on Lady Landra.”
“One moment first,” Eleanor said, hurrying back to her own chambers. She reappeared in a moment with a shining longsword and a kite shield with the Cousland laurels on it. “Take these. Use them until we find your father.” Elizabeth took them, slinging her own sword and shield back onto her back for the time being.
Lady Landra was also dead, and her son Dairren and maid Iona. Eleanor was almost in shock. “Poor Landra… she came here to get away from talk of fighting and death…”
“What of our last guest, the Grey Warden?” Elizabeth said. “His room is empty and shows no signs that he was ever in it.”
“Do you suspect him?” Eleanor accused her.
“I don’t know. I just want to know where he might be. Listen, there is a commotion in the courtyard and hall. Father must be fighting the invaders.”
“Let’s go then,” Eleanor said, her voice deadly cold. “I will shoot every last one of Howe’s soldiers before I shoot him himself, right between his beady little eyes.”
Elizabeth led her mother and her dog down into the courtyard. Buildings, structures were burning. She almost tripped over the body of a dead elf. So they really were killing everyone at the castle, not just assassinating the Couslands and their guests.
Someone shouted. They had been seen.
“Come on, then!” Eleanor shouted back, setting an arrow to the string, and Elizabeth found her mood mirrored her mother’s. Her teeth flashed in the light of the fire as she charged into battle beside her mabari, no matter the number of soldiers they were facing.
They were only facing five, now – her mother had already shot one. Even as Elizabeth reached them, another of them fell to Eleanor’s marksmanship, and Huan bore another to the ground, snapping at his unprotected face.
That left two for Elizabeth again, but now she was wearing her armour and wielding her father’s sword and shield. They wouldn’t stand a chance against her.
Her mother cried out, and Elizabeth risked a glance back. There were more soldiers converging on her mother, close enough that she had drawn her knife to defend herself.
“Mother!” Elizabeth shrieked, bashing the one soldier in the face and sending him stumbling against his companion, and she turned and sprinted to her mother’s aid. But she wouldn’t make it in time…
A pair of red-silver blurs slashed at the soldiers surrounding her mother, and they fell to the ground.
“Teyrna Cousland,” said Duncan, “are you unharmed?”
“For the time being,” Eleanor said tartly, then relented. “Thank you, Grey Warden. I am glad you are still alive. Elizabeth! What are you doing?”
“Ah! Sorry!” Elizabeth stopped staring – a fatal mistake, she knew – and turned to deal with the no-longer-dazed soldiers attacking her.
When they were dead, she turned to her mother and Duncan. “Have you seen my father?”
“I have not seen Teyrn Cousland,” Duncan said. “How do you wish to proceed?”
“Bryce will probably be in the hall,” Eleanor said. “Come, the way to it lies clear. Elizabeth, as I knock on the door, flank me and ensure that the ones who answer are our own true men.”
“Right away, Mother.”
Eleanor knocked on the door of the hall. “It’s Eleanor Cousland. Who is in there?”
There was a pause, some hasty conversation on the other side, and then someone shouted “Well don’t just stand there, let her ladyship in!” Elizabeth could have fallen to her knees in relief, for the voice was Gilmore’s.
The door was opened for them and they hastened into the great hall. Gilmore was directing soldiers to build a barricade against the door leading to the front gates; Elizabeth could see the door shuddering under heavy blows even as they did so. Gilmore turned away from that towards the newcomers. “My ladies! I am so glad to see you alive and safe! I was trying to secure this position as quickly as possible so as to search for you. When I realized what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the doors…”
“You are doing well,” Eleanor told him. “Is Bryce here?”
Gilmore’s face grew long. “I have not seen the Teyrn. I do not know where he is.”
“It’s possible… he could be at the hidden passage,” Eleanor said. “Or perhaps Howe killed him first.”
“In either case, it sounds like your destination is this hidden passage,” Duncan said. “Do you know where it is, Teyrna?”
“It’s out of the scullery,” Eleanor said. “It sounds like Howe’s men are mostly at the front of the hall. Perhaps we can slip by them to the kitchen.”
“We’ll hold them off for you,” Gilmore said. The front door creaked.
“Maker watch over you, Ser Gilmore,” Eleanor said, already hurrying to the other side door of the hall.
Elizabeth did not follow her mother, but hurried after Gilmore where he was surveying his barricade and his remaining soldiers, most of them already injured. “Come with us!” she said, touching his arm.
He gave her a sad smile. “I can’t. The men need someone to lead them. I will protect you for as long as I can.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Go on. Get out of here, Elizabeth.” He turned to Duncan. “Take care of them, ser.”
“I will,” Duncan said. “And know you would have been most welcome among the Wardens, Ser Gilmore.”
Gilmore smiled briefly, nodded once more to Elizabeth, and turned back to encouraging the men at the door.
“Gilmore!” Elizabeth cried, but her mother had grabbed her arm and was dragging her out of the hall. Gilmore did not look back.
There was a small huddle of servants in the kitchen, and they screamed when Elizabeth and her companions entered.
“It is me!” Elizabeth assured them. “We are going to escape. Follow my mother…” she trailed off as she caught sight of a trail of blood drops on the floor, leading to the larder. They were fresh; they weren’t from the fight with the rats.
Eleanor was ahead of her, and carefully pushed open the door to the larder, then gasped. “Bryce!”
“There you are,” Bryce groaned, huddled up against a sack of grain and holding his side. He had not changed from the previous day, and his fine tunic was black with blood. A soldier knelt beside him, attempting futilely to help. “I wondered… when you would get here.” His face screwed up in pain.
“Bryce!” Eleanor cried again, kneeling at his other side, supporting him. “How bad is it?”
“Quite bad,” Bryce grunted. “Howe’s men… found me in the study. If it weren’t for some of our brave guards, especially… John here, I wouldn’t have gotten away at all.”
“Father, can you move?” Elizabeth asked anxiously. “You came here to get to the hidden passage, didn’t you?”
“I don’t think… I can survive the standing,” Bryce said.
“We’ll carry you,” Elizabeth said desperately.
“No, pup,” he said, trying to smile. “You must reach Fergus and… tell him what has happened. Howe… probably thinks he can use… the chaos to advance himself. You must live and teach him otherwise. See that justice is done.”
“I swear to you, Father, I will destroy him with my own hands. But you’re coming with us!”
“Even… healing magic won’t help me now, and I believe… the castle is probably surrounded.”
The servants, listening in, gave a low moan of despair.
“They won’t have discovered this exit yet. But we must move quickly,” Eleanor said, and turned to Duncan. “Will you see to it my daughter makes it to safety?”
“No,” Bryce grunted. “Take… my wife and daughter both.”
“I will, your lordship,” Duncan said. “But I must ask for something in return.”
“Anything,” Bryce said.
“What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil in the south,” Duncan said. “I came here seeking a recruit and the darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one.”
“But-” Elizabeth began.
“You were always my first choice,” Duncan said to her, and that gave her no happiness. “I will take the Teyrna and your daughter to Ostagar, to inform Fergus and the king of what has happened. Then Elizabeth will join the Grey Wardens.”
“If you think you’re staying here and sending me away, you have another think coming,” Eleanor said sternly to her husband. “I’ll kill every bastard who comes through that door to buy them time. But I’m not leaving your side.”
The enormity of what was happening was falling on Elizabeth’s head like an avalanche. “Father! Mother! I won’t leave you either!”
“Duty comes first in our family,” Bryce said to his daughter. “You must go. For your own sake… and for Ferelden’s. Go, pup. Warn your brother. Know that we love you both. You’ll make us proud.”
“Goodbye, darling,” Eleanor said.
Duncan had to drag her bodily away from her parents.
The servants scattered as soon as they reached the outside air; only two and the soldier followed Elizabeth, and those were the ones who survived. The others were all discovered in a few moments and killed; Elizabeth could hear their screams.
She was wandering after Duncan in shock, Huan at her side. Some part of her knew she needed to control herself, to be a good leader to the few who followed her, but she just… couldn’t… understand what had happened. Her home was burning, her parents as good as dead, her best friend probably dead, her brother far away, her survival depending on a man who was no more than a stranger to her.
She didn’t even know which direction they were going in.
They all marched until the sky began to turn silver-grey instead of clouded black. When they found the old Tevinter highway leading to Denerim, the soldier and the two elves, Gemmet and Elra, stopped. “My lady?”
“Hmm?” Elizabeth turned to them.
“My lady, we’re going to head east to Denerim. We don’t want to go to Ostagar…”
“But it’s a long way to Denerim. It will be dangerous on the road.”
“That’s true, but perhaps we’ll fall in with a caravan or something. My lady, if we returned to the Highever alienage, Arl Howe would find out and then he might do terrible things to the alienage. If we hide in the Denerim alienage, it will be a long time before he knows anyone escaped.”
“And I can find work in Denerim too,” said John.
“You’ve thought hard about this,” Elizabeth said. “You have my leave to go. And be careful. I should like to see you again. I’m sorry for… not being a better…” She began to tear up.
Elra timidly put a hand on her arm. “We are very sorry for you, Lady. Please be safe in your journey.”
She nodded, and they walked away.
She, Huan, and Duncan walked south that whole day. Only when it was quite dark did they stop to camp.
Elizabeth huddled in the sleeping roll that Duncan had given her; Huan lay outside the entrance to the tent.
She couldn’t sleep, despite the ache in her whole body. Probably no sane person would have been able to, or anyone with a heart. She knew she had to, because she was going to a battle, perhaps a war, but she couldn’t.
Her father’s agonized face was firmly in her mind, her mother’s tears, her nephew’s blood-spattered corpse, Gilmore’s sad resigned smile. She made a fist until her nails dug painfully into her palm, the other hand clutched around her locket. It held a miniature painting of her family, but she couldn’t bear to look at it. She would not forget any of them.
Her shoulders shook as she attempted to stifle her own weeping. She shouldn’t keep Duncan awake, either. Perhaps she should go outside and hug Huan until she was in control of herself again…
Duncan gave her space as they travelled, and she was thankful for that. While he was distantly sympathetic, and she had no choice but to follow him, she did not want to speak to him or to anyone.
The next night she slept from sheer exhaustion and her dreams were full of voices.