Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins is owned by Bioware and those "Edge of Reality" chaps. I'd love to say I owned Alistair, but I'd be lying...
This is my new fan fiction based on Dragon Age: Origins. It's going to be based around my own version of the game, with a female Cousland warrior, and the romantic option for Alistair. It's likely to have some lemon in it. Perhaps, a little lime. We shall see. Rating will alter accordingly.
This first chapter is mostly just a filler chapter to set the story, told from Duncan's perspective.
***
They say that a Warden's Soul is not their own. That it belongs to the Blight and the ArchDemon alone... A Warden can't afford to love. It is not an option.
***
The long journey from Highever castle to Ostagar was not a pleasant one. Duncan, sensing his latest charge was not ready to talk about the devastation they were retreating from kept a respectful silence as they rode for two days across Ferelden, following the River Dane to the Hinterlands. Twice they drew camp, and twice the young warrior retired after the eve's meal had been eaten and had fallen into a fitful sleep, her nightmares choking her dreams.
He dared to wake her, knowing full well how precious those dreams would be, and how very real her nightmares would become soon enough. Her eyes would snap open and her small mouth would gasp, reaching for her ever vigilant blade as he gently shook her awake for her turn to watch camp. She never moaned. She never complained. Her eyes would lose the shock, and return to their empty shell as she settled in next to the fire, gazing silently into the flames.
He was not afraid to leave her to guard alone. Her skills as a warrior had more than proven themselves, and earned a place in his respect. But leaving her alone was an entirely different matter.
As commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, it was his obligation to recruit new members for the ancient order that protected each Kingdom of Thedas for as long as the Blight had reined. Their numbers were still relatively low, having been recently readmitted into the realm by King Maric after two hundred years of exile. The most recent bouts of darkspawn were causing the Warden great grief that the centuries old peace was about to be shattered and an archdemon summoned by the taint of the infected ones once more...
Taking one last look at his newest hopeful, he felt a mixture of excitement, and sadness. There was something about this girl that intrigued him. He had been compelled to seek her out, even before Howe's treacherous betrayal that had lead to the downfall of everything she knew and trusted. And yet he somehow felt that everything had fallen into place. A chantry follower would no doubt claim the Maker was watching over them both, though no forgiving God would ever willingly put someone so young through as much as the fighter had had to battle. He hoped with all his soul that she would be the one, would pass where so many others faltered and failed, and would bring him closer to the rest that he sought...
It was with a heavy heart that he fell into his own restless sleep.
*
Arriving at Ostagar on the third day, he was surprised to see Cailan striding towards him at the gate.
'Didn't Kings have better things to do with their time...?' He mused quietly to himself, smiling as he reached out to embrace his old friend.
"You're majesty! I did not expect..." He began, being cut off by a waving gesture from the armour clad leader.
"...A Royal welcome? Come now Duncan, enough of the pleasantries. We're to be fighting in battle side-by-side soon enough! Besides, I had to escape Teryn Loghain somehow! He's been talking strategies at me all morning!" groaned the monarch looking completely unabashed.
"It would perhaps be unwise not to listen to the Teryn in this Sire," Duncan proceeded with caution, eliciting a heavy sigh from the younger and obviously bored man, "He has been the royal tactician since the rein of your father, and whist we do not always meet eye-to-eye on matters regarding the protection of Ferelden, he certainly knows how to get a battlefield to his advantage."
"Yes, yes it's all about the tactics! He's been drilling them all night, trying to change the plans of the game. He wants us to draw the darkspawn into the valley and ambush them from behind. I say – Go with what works; and two battles won says that a full frontal attack is the best course of action!" explained Cailan with an animated gesture, "He keeps talking about the eventualities of the Archdemon's approach. To be honest with you, I'm not even sure if it's even a real Blight!" he added with a slight pout.
Duncan cocked his eyebrow, "You seem disappointed Sire?"
"Are you kidding me?" King Cailan cried, "Riding with the legendary Grey Wardens, defeating the darkspawn, taking down a fearsome Archdemon or two! I spent my entire youth dreaming of such excitement. And now to think it could all be for nothing..."
Duncan took a moment to survey his King. He was young. He was inexperienced. And he wanted nothing more than a good war like the legends said. This worried him greatly. However, before he was given the chance to voice his opinion, he was aware that his leader had swiftly changed the conversation and was now peering curiously over his shoulder...
"Aah." He heard him exclaim softly, "You did not tell me you had the newest recruit with you. I shall assume you are the lovely Lady Cousland from Highever? Pray tell me, what news of your father? Your brother Fergus's messenger tells me they have ridden ahead of the home party to join us in battle and that we are to expect Teryn Bryce sometime within a week?
Standing next to the mere slip of a girl, Duncan felt her stiffen, and then consciously force herself to relax before replying. It was the longest he had heard her speak for many hours aside from pleasantries and formalities.
"The sad news of my father's estate has obviously not travelled as fast as the wardens ride your majesty," she began, her voice stilted and jerky and she swallowed twice, "Though the sun has risen only twice since that unhappy night, it still surprises me that you know not of the injustice that has befallen my family...
Erl Howe and his men raided the castle on the eve of the new moon. They slaughtered everyone they found and spared no mercy. My mother and father..." She breathed deeply and slowly, "...were murdered in front of me. Duncan found me and we escaped the castle together through the servants hatch. We left my home to ruin and fled here, to Ostagar. All that remains of the great Cousland family name is with my brother and myself." She spat out bitterly.
A long moment passed before King Cailan said anything. He looked to Duncan, perhaps for denial, and receiving none, he was too stunned for words.
"My dearest Lady. I offer you my most sincere apologies for the hardships you have suffered. I am at a loss for what to do. Erl Howe was once a loyal subject and friend to the throne. But no more. I give you my solemn word, you shall have your retribution and Erl Howe shall answer to his crimes." Cailan bowed his head respectfully to the bereaved girl, "Now if you will excuse me, Loghain will need to continue with his lecture of battle. Once it is out the way, we shall address this matter to the courts and the Erl himself. We will not let this rest."
King Cailan nodded briefly at them both, and disappeared ahead of them through the vast gates and away to a colourful tent. Duncan looked to his charge with pride. Perhaps she would find the strength to endure the coming days. His optimistic expectations of her were beginning to get the better of him.
Wordlessly, they began the trek across the almighty bridge that connected Ostagar to the mainland, over the very same valley Teryn Loghain wanted to ambush the darkspawn in. The soldiers silently greeted Duncan with bow's and salutes, respect emanating from them in waves. It was good to be home. Or as close to home as you could get in Ferelden. The older guardian longed for the long halls of Weisshaupt Fortress in the kingdom of Anderfels.
It had been twenty long years since Cailan's father had lifted the ban on the grey wardens safeguarding Ferelden, and during that time, he had returned back to the Head Quarters of his order only twice. He missed the culture, he missed the land, and he missed the people! Not as shallow as the Orlesians with their glittery displays of vanity, nor as baron as the deserts of Antiva where the cities cry out for the touch of the humanity the antivans sorely lacked. A man would surely look twice at a bleeding soul in the street, if only just to pick his pockets amongst the side streets and back alleys.
As the duo entered the encampment that was Ostagar fortress, Duncan heard her gasp at the volume of people around her. And so many tents! There was an entire corner devoted to the mages, who by the looks of things were cooking up a storm; the ever present Tranquil standing by at the ready. A large fenced area held a pack of Mabari hounds all standing up on their hind legs as a keeper reached over to feed them their individual dinners, and various vendors and merchants were dotted around the keep.
There were plenty of armoured soldiers clumped in groups, some standing, some sitting and eating, all of them looking nervous for the coming battle. There were archers, some with bows almost as tall as their bearer, and some armed with crossbows and bolts. Some with swords that looked as if they would require both hands to lift they were so heavy, and some equip with two smaller daggers and heaving bags of jangling bottles and potions.
The youngest Cousland was a little irked to note that the ratio of male to females was about 5:1, but she reasoned that not all Lady's had had the same luxury upbringing she had, with the love and trust from her parents that she would take great care with the warrior knowledge they imparted her with.
Towards the centre of the camp, there was a great fire lit, that roared easily as tall as a tree. It was towards this that they naturally gravitated. The fire was kicking out a wonderful amount of heat, for despite the April month, and the early evening, the temperature was bringing to drop within the camp. There was already one other suited soldier present who introduced himself rapidly with the name of Jowen. He too nodded silently at Duncan before bowing softly and making his way towards the close cluster of tents that appeared to be residential.
Duncan and his charge settled down in front of the fire, and helped themselves to the stew that was bubbling away. After securing themselves tents for the night, Duncan announced they should retire to bed.
"Come, we shall rest here safely for tonight, before we begin the initiation tomorrow..." He said gravely looking over to his warrior, a slight spark of anxiety for her wellbeing coming over him as he thought about the coming trial...
***
-Chapter two will be up by Monday. Have a great rest of the week! x