Anastasia Cousland. . . . .the only survivor of the Cousland massacre. . . .The great Hero of Ferelden. . .

Alistair Therin. . . . . royal bastard son of the late King Maric and templar in training. . . Senior Grey Warden. . . .

The last two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden.

Together, they worked together to save a country in the midst of a Blight. They recruited the noble dwarves of Orzammar, the fierce Dalish warriors of the land and the dangerous mages of the Circle of Magi.

Along the way, the picked a variety of societies outcasts.

Morrigan, a dark temptress and apostate.

Leliana, a killer bard turned cloistered sister.

Sten, stony faced qunari warrior turned murderer turned warrior.

Wynne, Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, living on borrowed time.

Zevran, former Antivan Crow who quickly changed his tune when awaking to find that he had been tied up with a fierce Mabari warhound snarling at him.

Oghren, disgraced dwarven warrior turned insane Berserker.

Three years ago, each of them fought together against not only the Blight, but the impending Civil War. Each of them were there when the Archdemon was killed, the Cousland Family Sword slicing across its neck and ending the Fifth Blight before it had truly taken hold.

Each of them were hailed heroes, but the most revered of them was Anastasia, who had delivered the killing blow. She was led along a full procession, smiling and waving to the people who toasted her name in the low class taverns and cried her name when killing any darkspawn stragglers.

People were so caught up in the celebrations, that they didn't even notice the disappearance of a certain dark haired apostate from the Wardens side.

Six months after the Battle for Denerim, Alistair and Anastasia married in a lavish ceremony, becoming the King and Queen of the country. All seemed as peace, until the great battles of Amarathine and Vigils Keep. The Queen, at that time Warden Commander, was victorious in her defence of both regions.

The Queen was barely 24 years old and already, she had seen enough bloodshed to last her a life time. She abdicated her Commandership to her good friend and brother in arms, Nathaniel Howe, deciding to spend the rest of her days with her friends and husband.

What she didn't expect nine months later in the early hours of April 4th, to be huffing and puffing as she pushed a human being the size of what felt like a watermelon out of her. It was taking all of Wynne's mana to keep the young Queen alive. Breaking her husband's hand and screaming one last painful time, the Queen delivered a healthy baby.

A little girl.

Eleanor Rose Therin.

This is the story of our young Princess.