Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age and all that's awesome about it. They also near enough own my life with the amount of hours I've spent playing on it.
x.x.x.x.x
Queen Anora Mac Tir of Ferelden rolled her shoulders against the knots that were tightly wound between her shoulder blades. The Blight was over, the Archdemon slain, but, as usual, there would be no rest for the wicked.
The Queen sighed, eyeing the mountain of paperwork (comprising of various requests for assistance, finance reports, damage reports and all other manner of thing that some lord or scribe felt needed to be put to paper) with annoyance. Meeting after meeting all day, only to arrive the in the late afternoon to this mess. She let her thoughts wander back over the events of the past few weeks. Had it really been that long already? The days and nights seemed to meld together in the worry and panic over Landmeets and Blights.
The Landsmeet. What a disaster – for Anora and her father anyway. Anora lost at the game of politics that day to a woman using the truth. The truth. Elissa Cousland presented the facts plainly and openly to the lords and ladies of the Bannorn and they followed her. Had Anora known that the nobles would unite under the truth then... well. She probably wouldn't have betrayed the Wardens that way if she knew her words would have little effect.
It was no wonder that Elissa declared Alistair king then – Anora's slyness and betrayals did not sit well with the Warden. It was a surprise to them all, however, when she announced that she would rule beside him. At the time Anora seethed, thinking that Elissa wanted the throne for herself and was using Alistair to get there. With the events of the past few days, however, Anora knew she made that decision out of love - if Alistair had to take the throne for Ferelden then the young Cousland wouldn't leave the last Theirin alone – because if Elissa truly wanted the throne she would have taken it regardless of Alistair's death.
The ex-Templar's death had had a profound effect on Elissa and her demeanour. Outwardly, Elissa still commanded respect and put on a suitable front for the public of Denerim, but none of them got close enough to see her eyes, full of pain and confusion. Anora had, and immediately felt sincere regret for everything she had put the Cousland through. When she asked Elissa what she intended to do when the Blight was over, the Hero's reply was barely a whisper. "I don't know."
Anora was snapped out of her reverie by a loud knock on her study door. "Enter!" she called.
"Your Majesty." Teryn Fergus Cousland entered the study and bowed low. "I apologise for the intrusion..."
"No need to apologise, I was just looking for an excuse to avoid..." she gestured at the pile of papers with a sigh, "...this."
Fergus' mouth twitched with a small smile. "With responsibility comes paperwork," he said ruefully. "I expect my desk at Highever will be much the same when I return."
Anora nodded sympathetically. "Do not forget to share it out, Teryn Cousland. Delegation is a wonderous thing - however we are short of hands at the moment so I've taken as much on as I can. But enough. You no doubt did not come here to discuss my paperwork mountain."
"Ah... quite, Your Majesty. I was wondering if perhaps you had seen my sister."
Anora paused. "No since yesterday at dinner. She is not in the city perhaps?"
Fergus shook her head. "The last person I can find who saw her was the dawn watch guards who saw her leaving the estate early this morning."
Anora frowned. "What of her companions. Or her mabari?"
"Leliana, Zevran, Wynne and Oghren are about the estate," Fergus replied. He'd been introduced to them by Elissa properly, and any friend of his sister's was a friend of his – hence why he remembered their names. "Oh, and the golem, Shale. Sten hasn't been seen since yesterday and Madoc was seen with her this morning."
There was another knock at the open door and both Fergus and Anora looked around to see the new arrival – a fair-haired, dark skinned elf. The assassin, Anora remembered.
"My dear Teryn," Zevran said with a bow. "Your Majesty," he added, with another bow. Anora could never work out whether he was being sarcastic or not – she tried to brush it off as just his accent or demeanour, but then with her track record she supposed the elf had his reasons to not like her. "I believe I have the answer to your question, Teryn Cousland."
"You've seen Elissa?"
He nodded solemnly and handed Fergus a folded letter bearing a wax seal with the Highever crest. Fergus hastily prised it open and quickly read the note. 'Sorry for not saying goodbye properly, but it was all a bit spur-of-the-moment. I'll be back soon. Much love, E.' "Eh? Back soon? Where has she gone?"
"Seheron, I believe."
"Seheron?" Anora stood up and walked over to the two men. "She's left Ferelden?"
"Not permanently," Fergus replied, reading over the letter again. "At least, she wrote that she'll be back soon. But... Seheron?"
"She left on the boat with Sten and Madoc this morning," Zevran supplied, handing Anora her own note. "She will come to no harm."
"Well then," Fergus said, folding the letter and tucking it inside his leather jerkin. "That's the answer to that question. My apologies for disturbing you, your Majesty."
"My door is always open for you, Teryn Cousland," Anora said. Fergus bowed, and Zevran hastily did the same before the two left the Queen's study.
Anora turned the parchment over in her hand and wondered what on earth Elissa would write to her for. She carefully snapped the wax seal and unfurled the letter. There was only one line.
'Alistair had faith in you as a ruler. Don't let him down. E.'
Anora sighed and folded the letter up again. She summoned her motivation and turned back to her paperwork – the quicker she got this done the quicker she could go back to doing something that was actually useful.
x.x.x
x.x Some months later x.x
The Archdemon roared as pitched forward in exhaustion, the combination of arrows, magic and ballistae shots finally wearing it down. Elissa Cousland steeled herself and reached for her sword, stepping towards her death.
'No regrets,' she thought. 'For Ferelden. For Alistair. This is a small price to pay.'
"Wait."
Elissa stopped at the sound of his voice. In hindsight she should have ignored him and kept going, but hindsight was always rife with such enlightening revelations.
"I know you told Riordan that you would take the final blow, but let me. This is my duty."
Elissa turned towards him, sword still in her hand. "I can't let you do that," she said.
"Why not?" he asked, stepping towards her. "This is my duty. If I'm going to be a king, I want to be a good king. And this right here is the best king I could be, my first and last act being to stop the Blight before it truly starts. No one could blame me for that, could they?"
Elissa bristled, her temper flaring. "That's not the only reason and you know it."
He smiled. "You're right. I know how I feel about you. I won't let you die, not when I can do something about it."
"Wait this is crazy!"
"Sanest thing I've ever done," he replied, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a desperate kiss. Elissa felt tears trailing down her cheeks, she wouldn't let him do this, she couldn't let him do this, but this was going to be her last kiss so she would make the most of it before...
Somehow he was faster than her. He pushed her backwards and she stumbled, nearly falling. She cursed, but by the time she regained her balance he was running towards the Archdemon.
"No," she said on a breathy whisper. Her heart was hammering loudly in her ears. "No! Alistair!"
She started running but he was too far ahead. He sliced through the Archdemon's neck, showering the area with blood. The Archdemon's neck crashed to the ground and Elissa shielded her eyes at the cloud of rubble and dust that was scattered into the air.
Alistair paused, altering his grip on the sword so he could drive it downwards. He paused, his eyes finding Elissa's across the Archdemon's twitching body and he smiled at his love as he took that final blow.
"No!" Elissa woke up with a start, causing Madoc to yelp in surprise. She took a few deep breaths and tried to master her grief again, dashing away her tears with the back of her hand. Madoc was whining in concern and she reached down to pet his head absently.
She was in her small cabin on a trading vessel bound for Denerim from Seheron. Her trip to the foreign island was an impulsive decision, but after a year of travelling all over Ferelden she knew there would be no where in her home nation she could go without seeing Alistair's shadow… except for perhaps Highever, but the terynir had its own ghosts she was unwilling to face.
Some might have called her a coward for running from her grief, but Elissa couldn't care less. She deserved the break, she told herself. She felt like she had been putting on a brave face and making the hard decisions for the sake of others ever since her family were murdered in Highever and by the Maker she was going to have some time for herself. Andraste only knew how much she needed to do some soul-searching after her relationship with Alistair and his (stupid, foolish and downright idiotic) sacrifice.
Seheron was unlike anything she had ever imagined and totally unlike the barbaric stories the Chantry perpetuated. She wouldn't say she enjoyed it wholeheartedly – it was difficult for the followers of the Qun to accept her status as a warrior and she had to defend her right to bear arms constantly; in hindsight, she perhaps ought to have avoided carrying her swords about the city in the interest of tact, but Sten seemed almost secretly proud of her defiance since he never once requested that she conform to their standards of women in the interest of appearances. Nevertheless, it had been an interesting experience and she learnt and saw much of a beautiful and (sexist opinions aside) cultured city.
In addition to that, the shear foreignness of Seheron was perfect for her to think about herself, free from outside influence or questions of duty. There was no Chantry influence in Seheron, so no idle Templars or chanter's boards to inadvertently remind her of her loss when she was least expecting it.
Two months later, Elissa bade Sten farewell, with the intention of facing her demons, and negotiated passage to Denerim on the trade ship the Wave Dancer. They were a month into the three month voyage and judging from the way the floor was rocking they were caught in some fairly rough weather.
Elissa pulled on her wax jacket she purchased for the voyage and made her way up to the deck. As a native of a port city, Elissa was well aware how a ship ran – her parents fostered both Elissa and Fergus to portside families every spring from the age of fourteen so they would learn of and respect the work that their people did.
"Practical skills are important," she remembered her father saying. "You never know when you'll need them. Aside from which I won't have you raised to be spoiled – it's important you learn that with your privileges come responsibilities. It's our duty to protect these people since without them we're nothing."
She was glad for her months with the fishing families. Although she was never allowed out onto the open seas, she developed enough boat experience to not get sea sick, even when the boat was pitching and yawing in the midst of a storm.
The rain smacked angrily against the solid wood deck and the wind was howling around them. Deckhands were clutching desperately at the rigging as they rolled up the mainsail. The masts creaked in the gale-like winds. Elissa sought out the captain through the driving rain and made a beeline for the quarterdeck, careful to avoid getting underfoot of the scrabbling sailors.
"What lovely weather we are having, captain!" she called when she found him near the wheel. She grinned. "A fine night to be sailing, for sure!"
"I couldn't agree more my lady!" the captain called back, grinning from ear to ear and appreciating her well-meaning sarcasm. He, like his crew, were drenched, but it would take more than rain to dampen the spirits of this captain. He loved his boat, respected the sea and treated his crew well. Elissa had a lot of time for Captain Skyhold.
"We're sailing towards the centre of the storm, I'm afraid," he said to her over the wind. "And I daren't venture further south towards it – the Amaranthine Ocean has a tendency for cyclones, storms which my Dancer wouldn't be able to weather. We'll have to make a stop off at an Antivan port… probably Bastion, that's the nearest one from here I think."
"A wise decision, captain. I was fortunate indeed to find such a fine ship and captain in Seheron."
The captain laughed. "Such flattery my dear lady, as if my ego needed any encouragement! Now, get below deck before the wind sweeps you away. Maker knows you're thin enough to take flight in this wind. Off with you! I'll send a boy down as soon as we arrive in Bastion."
"My thanks, captain." Elissa made the dash back below deck, shaking her sopping coat and hair of excess water before she slipped back into her cabin. She smiled fondly when she saw that Madoc had quickly occupied her vacant cot and was sleeping soundly despite the rocking of the ship.
Elissa shut the door behind her and pulled her chest of belongings out from under the bed. When she left Denerim it carried only her bare essentials plus a few trinkets: her two swords, Starfang and the Keening Blade, her bow, Falon'Din's Reach, a pouch of sovereigns and gems and her trusty dragonbone splintmail. Now it was full to bursting with gifts, silks, spices and coin: she had not spent her time in Seheron idly, and had made a tidy sum of money as a mercenary and trader. She took as much of her raw spoils as she could, knowing they would make a tidy profit in Denerim , and sold the rest when she left so she could refill the Highever coffers that Howe had no doubt emptied.
Now, however, she had changed her mind. Oh, her spoils would still go to Highever, but not with her. The dream she relived of that fateful day… she had not had that dream for weeks. And now it had resurfaced, just as she was halfway home. She was not ready. Picking up a quill and parchment, Elissa laboured to write several letters and a list of instructions for a variety of people in Denerim. She could trust the captain of the merchant vessel to deliver her chest to the palace.
So it was when the shipped docked in Bastion, Elissa Cousland stayed on shore and waved the Dancer and her crew farewell as they continued south to Denerim. Madoc barked a query and Elissa smiled down at her faithful Mabari.
"Just a bit longer, Madoc. There's a lot of Thedas to see after all. Plus, if a mutual friend of ours is to be believed, Antiva City is especially beautiful at this time of year." Madoc barked happily in response.
Then, with only her bare essentials on her back and her dog at her side, Elissa Cousland headed north to Antiva. She let out a sigh as they left the port town of Bastion and hit the open road.
"Fergus isn't going to forgive me for this stunt," she said to Madoc.
The mabari, ever the observant one, whimpered in sympathy.
x.x.x
Part Two to come soon, I hope! This is just a setting-the-scene, prologue-esque chapter: I'm not going to detail her journey alone, because that's boring lol. She'll be back in Ferelden for the drama and romance soon enough :D
A question for you: if you could have any NPC in DA:O (Base and/or Awakening) as a romance option, who would he/she be? :D