((Author's Note: Greetings, and welcome to my Dragon Age: Origins fan fiction project. This will chronicle the adventures of Alexander Cousland and most of the companion characters from DA:O from the beginning of the game all the way to the end, optimistically speaking. I will state here and now that I will do my best to adhere to the game's own dialogue, cut scenes, etc, but I can make no promises I won't add or alter as I see fit to help make the story come across more smoothly. If this offends anyone, I apologize, but you are free, of course, to write your own story as well.
Assisting me on this project so far is VoiDreamer, from this website. Please take some time at any point to read over her own works. She is a very talented author in her own right and has been of great help in past projects of mine.
This project is based on the Human Noble origin story, and of course I do not own any rights or put any claim on BioWare Intellectual Property; this story is meant to be a work of fan fiction, written for the enjoyment of myself and others as well. This story, overall, remains a rough draft for the time being, but here is the first chapter of hopefully many more to come.))
Eve of the Storm
We stand upon the brink. It is the twilight hour now and within only a few days at most, all will be decided at Denerim: either Ferelden will fall forever or the Archdemon will be slain and the Blight ended.
Though, as with everything else, it comes as no surprise that there is a price to pay for such a victory and it is a heavy one indeed.
But, as both Alistair and Duncan taught me...
In death, sacrifice.
"You're brooding again, aren't you?"
Stiffening in shock, the heavily armored Grey Warden spun around with a deep clanking of polished silverite plates coupled with the low jingle of oiled chainmail. Alexander Cousland's right gauntleted hand flashed downward to grasp Starfang's hilt, instinct driving him to yank the silver-bladed longsword from its black leather scabbard. He stopped short not a moment later, almost freezing in place with his teeth bared to snarl a battle-challenge, his eyes narrowed and glaring.
The sharply defined, almost aquiline features of his visage relaxed visibly as he beheld only Leliana standing calmly before him, the bard's slim-fingered hands half-raised in reassurance.
He had thought for certain... He had been expecting...
"I-I'm sorry," He managed to rasp, clearing his dry throat audibly as he forced his fingers to unclench from around Starfang, allowing the weapon to slide back down into place with a slither of metal against leather.
Alexander took in a deep cleansing breath as he closed his brown eyes - almost as dark as his short raven-black hair - for a second, before releasing it in a long soft sigh as he opened them once more to steadily meet her gaze.
"I was...thinking, and didn't hear you approach."
"It's all right, Alex," Leliana replied, her voice soothingly warm and affectionate as she walked up to him, reaching out to place a calloused yet still delicate hand against his cheek. Her touch was both consoling and encouraging, and Alexander savored the warmth as his left hand rose to enclose hers.
Though her full lips bore a gentle, familiar smile, the Grey Warden could still see the anxiety and concern reflected in her green eyes.
"The others were worried about you," The bard continued, "even Sten, though he would never admit it of course. And Shale actually referred to you once by name when requesting I check on you. But only once," She added, smirking.
"By name? Truly?" Alexander chuckled quietly in astonishment as he smiled. "You should've recorded that in stone for posterity. And here I thought that the word 'it' was all I'd ever amount to with him... Well, her..."
For a moment, his honest confusion was quite apparent as he caught himself. Alexander's usually stern and reserved countenance crumbled for an instant as he frowned in uncertainty, revealing the innocent youthfulness that still remained, though it was rarely revealed these days due to the intertwined burdens of duty and command.
Leliana couldn't help but burst out laughing at his puzzled expression, a light and silvery harmony that warmed the Grey Warden's heart every time he heard it. Smiling, he joined in for a moment, laughing quietly as she pulled him to her in a tight loving embrace. He hugged her against his chest in return, holding her close contentedly within his arms as he reflected on the fact that if he had to choose only one thing he treasured about his beloved Leliana, then it would be her heart.
Even after the murderous confrontation with Marjolaine in her house in Denerim, Leliana had still managed to maintain her positive and cheerful outlook on life, continuing to believe firmly in the Maker's will and guidance. Still, she had nonetheless acknowledged that the act of killing Marjolaine had been a necessary one. The bard had admitted to Alexander afterwards that her life experiences thus far had indeed hardened her, and caused her to understand now that sometimes certain actions – indeed, certain choices – were inescapable.
Even awaiting a new chance at redemption within the Chantry had been yet another means for her to escape reality, to run away from her past and flee the truth. It had been quite clear that Marjolaine would never have left her alone until either she or Leliana was dead and thus her end was unavoidable.
"I'm certain Shayle doesn't view herself as either," Leliana replied once she had recovered, her voice muffled against his breastplate, "but for now, 'him' seems to be best, does it not? After all, do you see a dwarf woman in that walking stone fortress?"
"Not really I suppose," Alexander replied, smirking as his right hand reached up to stroke her short reddish-brown hair with metal-clad fingers. His voice lapsed once more into silence, the Warden simply satisfied with holding his beautiful lady in his arms.
"Are you sure you're all right, Alex?" Leliana asked at last, stirring within their mutual embrace to glance up at him once more, her concern now openly displayed as she cocked her head to one side in a familiar manner. "You've been standing atop this tower for hours now. May I ask what you were thinking of?"
"Everything, it seems," The Grey Warden replied with a weary sigh as he gazed off into the darkness of the night, far beyond Redcliffe Castle's torch-lit stone walls towards the now invisible horizon.
"The Blight moves to overwhelm Denerim itself and even though we've mustered a combined army the likes of which Ferelden hasn't seen in centuries to oppose the horde, I'm still not certain if we can defeat the foe. It's as my father said: we were caught almost completely unprepared by the emergence of the darkspawn in the southern lands, and Ferelden herself has been weakened from long years of occupation and war. What's worse is that our mortal enemy doesn't invade with any interest in conquering or even enslaving... They come to kill us all: every last man, woman, and child. I...I used to believe that the defeat of King Cailan's army at Ostagar and Duncan's death both marked the beginning of the end, that the Maker had indeed turned His back on all of us for good. After Loghain's unforgivable treachery, it seemed as if the only thing one could do was pray for a swift end..."
As he spoke, Alexander's voice seemed to drift away with every word, growing quieter and more solemn for a long moment as the Warden's concentration strayed off into vivid memories, but then he quickly recovered. His tone became firm once more, though he still spoke slowly, carefully, as if he was reliving his own words within his mind.
"But then with every step we took to try and marshal allies to crush this new Blight - no matter how bleak a task it appeared at first - hope, it seemed, was not merely a fool's dream as I once believed in Lothering many months ago. Alistair and I both miraculously survived Ostagar, thanks to Flemeth; Morrigan then joined us, albeit reluctantly at first; and then there in Lothering, at the very first town we visited following the slaughter at Ostagar, we gained the camaraderie of you and Sten. I think," He added, his voice softening, "it was only then after speaking with both of you later on at our campsite that I truly realized and accepted what Alistair and I had to do."
"And you've done a wonderful job, my beloved," Leliana said, her voice soft yet serious as she regarded him. "You've accomplished what less resolute men would never even have dreamed was possible. With courage and honor you've allied the mightiest of Ferelden to oppose this Blight and its Archdemon."
She ran a hand slowly through his hair, fingers stroking comfortingly as she continued, "You united Orzammar under Lord Harrowmont, who has proven to be a just and worthy king, while avoiding the terrible bloodshed of civil war. You cleansed Circle Tower of the abominations and traitorous blood mages within, and slew the demon-corrupted Uldred, thereby sparing the innocent and preventing the utter massacre of the Circle of Magi by the templars. You saved not only the life of Arl Eamon, but those of his son and wife as well, and prevented the slaughter of the townsfolk. You-"
"All of which would never have been accomplished without the support of you and our other companions, Leliana," Alexander interjected softly in reply as one of his hands lowered to caress her cheek lovingly as he gazed into her green eyes, "but especially you."
"I believe in you, Alex," Leliana declared earnestly, her eyes honest and her voice heartening, "and the others do as well. None of them would say such aloud, not even Alistair, but words are unnecessary when I know each one of them would follow you without hesitation down into the darkest depths of the Deep Roads themselves if you commanded it." A wry smile graced her lips as she continued, "And I'm sure Shale and Sten would be arguing, as usual, over who should rightfully take the lead."
"Before Alistair shut them both up by shoving his way past them with sword and shield ready," The Warden agreed, chuckling quietly.
"You're their comrade, their friend, and their leader, Alex," Leliana continued, her voice rising intensely. "And understand here and now that no matter what happens in the next few days, you are not alone. We will all stand at your side, together, and meet whatever fate awaits us."
"A truly inspiring speech, my love," Alexander said, his tone only slightly mocking as he smiled fondly down at her. "And one that will surely measure up to the epic orations from the grand sagas of valor and honor told to wide-eyed young children sitting by the firelight at night. You always did have a way with words," He continued more sincerely. "It's a talent I've envied many a time before, as you well know."
"Despite my other...skills, Alex, I am still a bard, remember?" Leliana replied mischievously, winking. "It's my duty to be dramatic, eloquent, sorrowful, witty, or somber as required by my tales to sway my audience. In this case: a dour and grim Grey Warden desperately in need of cheer. But...perhaps mere words alone aren't what are truly needed at the moment..."
Even as she said this last, Leliana's voice dropped low and husky, sending a thrill crackling through Alexander's body, as if an electrical shock flashed down along his spine. The bard's hands slid up along his armored torso to tease the exposed skin of his neck with her fingertips as she pulled his head down to hers, their lips meeting in a long, passionate kiss. Leliana's tongue slipped between his lips to wrestle playfully with his own and Alexander's head swam with the always overwhelming and intoxicating sensation. He instinctively tightened his arms around her, almost crushing the bard against him as she melted into his embrace.
"Here now, what's this, you two?" Alistair's cheery voice rang out, startling the two of them as it echoed off the thick stones of the sturdy wall. "There are rooms available in the castle for that sort of thing, you know!"
"Alistair, by the Maker, would you keep your voice down?" Leliana hissed as she hurriedly broke off the kiss to peer out from behind one of Alexander's arms, her cheeks flushed.
"I observe, then, that it is doing well?" Shale asked only a moment later in his deep, resonating voice as the hulking war golem stomped heavily up the wall's stairs, almost cracking the stone beneath, to stand behind the leather-garbed Alistair. The golem studied Alexander calmly with its unblinking, glowing eyes, its expression unfathomable as usual.
"Aye," Alexander answered, nodding in affirmation as he turned within Leliana's embrace to face the golem and Alistair. He squeezed the bard's shoulders tenderly with one arm about her. "I'm feeling fine, Shale, thank you for asking."
"Good," The war golem replied almost curtly, nodding slightly in return. "Then now, if that is so, we can discuss how we shall smash the darkspawn invaders into bloody ruins, yes?"
"Only the golem would not take into account proper combat tactics and the need for an overall strategy," Sten uttered gravely as he too strode up onto the walltop to join the others, heavy plated boots thumping against the stone. "The Beresaad know all too well that there is much more to waging war than merely 'smashing' the enemy, especially regarding a conflict that will decide the fate of this homeland of yours."
"Perhaps," Shale replied, glancing over at the looming qunari, who was the only one amongst the party that could match the golem's height, if not its bulk, "but those concerns are far better suited for a creature of soft flesh and easily spilled blood, such as you. I, on the other hand, possess no such weaknesses and am therefore not interested in anything else really save the 'smashing'...and possibly the 'crushing' as well. Yes, I believe those two will do nicely indeed."
Alexander had to fight to keep from smiling as the golem and the qunari fell easily into their usual bickering, Shale's wit and innate arrogance matched against Sten's level stoicism and near unrelenting discipline. Leliana let out an exasperated sigh as she rolled her eyes in mock disgust, before turning to bury her face within her hands against the Grey Warden's breastplate, shaking her head. And Alistair merely folded his arms across his chest and sighed softly as well as he stared at the stone floor, tapping one booted foot against the unyielding surface as he waited impatiently for the two to finish.
Alexander watched the two for only a minute more, before he motioned to Alistair slightly as he jerked his head at the arguing Shale and Sten.
Do something!
Alistair simply raised an eyebrow slowly, as if to question Alexander's sanity, before glancing pointedly to his left and right, indicting each of the towering companions.
They're both seven feet tall. What do you honestly expect me to do?
"Some of us," Morrigan broke in sharply, interrupting the two arguing companions as she pushed her way bodily between them to stand before Alexander with hands planted on her hips, "are not in the least bit interested in your silly arguments regarding your towering masculinity and godlike martial prowess. We all came seeking news of Alexander's well-being. It seems he's fine after all and therefore we can now move on to more important affairs."
With her back to them, Morrigan completely missed the withering glares Sten and Shale both cast upon her for so rudely interrupting their disagreement. But, considering her often sardonic personality, the Grey Warden knew the witch wouldn't care in the least had she even seen the baleful glowers.
"Such concern from you is truly touching, Morrigan," Alexander replied dryly as he spread his arms wide. "Why, we all might actually need a moment of silence to savor this unexpected emotional occasion."
"All right, moment over!" Alistair quipped only a second later, chuckling. "Any longer than an instant and I fear Morrigan might accidentally reveal to us she's not as heartless as she'd have us believe and that, I fear, would signal the end of the world as we know it."
"As I recall," Morrigan replied slowly, raising a hand to stroke her chin in mock thoughtfulness, "there was a time not too long ago in the Wilds when we first met during which one of your Grey Warden initiate underlings was utterly convinced I would turn you all into toads. If you persist in testing me, Alistair, then perhaps you shall find out firsthand if I possess such power."
"Uh," Alistair grunted, gulping audibly as he raised his hands as if to physically ward off the witch's ire. "Perhaps it's best then that we move on." Bowing low with a grand flourish of his right arm, he added, "I shall therefore endeavor to keep my peace, my friends, at least for a moment."
"Thank the Maker for that," Leliana muttered.
"Such blasphemy from one so usually devout!" A woman's firm yet mild voice called out teasingly as it spoke up from the stairs.
"Wynne, you're here!" Alexander exclaimed in gladness, stepping forward to embrace the elderly mage as both Sten and Shale stepped aside respectfully to allow her to join the circle of companions. "I thought you had remained with the Circle, to help First Enchanter Irving prepare the mages for what they will face at Denerim."
"I can do no more for them now," Wynne replied as she was greeted warmly by Leliana and Alistair, with even Sten and Morrigan offering her stiff, deferential nods of welcome. "They're all fully aware of what I experienced at Ostagar and most are at least moderately skilled in the arts of elemental battle-magic. Therefore, they are as ready as they're ever going to be...if one can even be truly prepared to challenge the raw strength of a Blight and its monstrous Archdemon. But with that task done," She finished, casting a kindly smile at her fellow companions as she patted Shale and Sten each on an arm, "I decided I can serve Ferelden best now by rejoining you all here at Redcliffe before the march to intercept the darkspawn at Denerim. I'm glad I managed to make it here in time."
"As are we," Alistair said candidly, "for I was beginning to wonder who exactly would be willing and able to patch us up after our victory. The unknown, soul-freezing glacier standing across from me would certainly not-"
"He seems to think, good Wynne," Morrigan interrupted sarcastically, "that by not referring to me by name I somehow won't realize he's talking about me. But I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised because it has been quite apparent during all of this time that intelligence is certainly not a requirement to don the mantle of a Grey Warden." She tilted her head at Alexander in acknowledgment as she added, "Your present company excluded, of course."
"My thanks, Morrigan," The Grey Warden replied wryly, but as his dark eyes passed slowly around the circle of his friends and comrades, he found abruptly that he couldn't bring himself to speak another word. His voice instead trailed off into an uncomfortable silence that was broken only by the crackling of the nearby torches and the distant murmuring voices of Arl Eamon's men-at-arms.
For months now, Alexander had fought and bled beside these men and women – and golem, he mentally added, suppressing a smile that threatened to reach his lips – each so different in countless ways and yet so alike as well. They were all united by their singular desire to defeat the vile, monstrous darkspawn and save Ferelden, even if their personal reasons for doing so varied individually. They had all camped together, slept alongside one another, eaten together, and, despite their passionate, near violent disagreements at times, had saved each other from almost certain death more times than Alexander could now easily remember.
I may have perhaps been the catalyst that drew them all together, as Leliana believes, Alexander reflected as he gazed at all of them warmly, but it is they, and not I, that have formed the true bond of fellowship within that has kept us together for all this time.
And that is a wondrous gift which I know I will never be able to repay for as long as I live...
"I–" The Grey Warden began, his voice unusually quiet, before hesitating, the words catching in his throat as all of them looked at him. Their gazes were so penetrating, so critical, and yet still so...trusting.
Maker above, their lives are in my hands... They have looked to me to lead them and they believe so strongly that I will not – cannot – lead them astray at this crucial hour. And yet now we stand on the edge, teetering on the threshold of annihilation or salvation.
What if I fail them in the end? What if they die now because of me?
Could-Could I live knowing I was responsible for their doom?
"My friends," He began once more, but again as before his voice failed him, the acidic doubt and icy dread swarming up from within like a foul miasma to choke away the words in his throat. He gasped for breath as though drowning and felt Leliana hug his right arm tightly in unspoken support.
"It's all right, Alexander," Wynne said gently, taking a step forward and nodding, a kindly, but strangely sad smile on her lips. "We know."
And at that, everyone nodded as one, slowly, determinedly, the expressions on their faces adamant and unwavering as they shared their support openly for both Alexander and each other. They knew what was at stake and what might be asked – nay, demanded – of them. They understood that all of their lives were forfeit if it meant destroying the Archdemon and ending the Blight.
Alexander could only nod gratefully at them in return, hugging Leliana against him. They were with him and that was all that mattered. There remained an undercurrent of fear rippling amongst them of course, for who could rightly claim not to be afraid when standing against the legions of darkness? Even Shale acknowledged the existence of fear, the worry of what might happen should his body be shattered, crumbling apart into mere inanimate stones. With the Anvil of the Void destroyed, there would be no chance to restore the war golem should that happen.
Nevertheless, courage and honor eclipsed their fear, for they had confronted some of the deadliest adversaries in Thedas' history and had triumphed, together.
And together, there did not seem to be an enemy they could not defeat.
Fate, it seems, Alexander thought gravely, is not without a sense of finality. This will all soon end in blood and fire, no matter the outcome.
And yet, it began in much the same as well.
For a long moment, his thoughts drifted back through memories that seemed as if they had occurred a lifetime ago...