A/N : When "Goodbye, Halcyon Days" made its way into my mind, I had no idea that I would get so wrapped up in it. I wanted to write something that stood out of all the other Alistair&Cousland fictions. And I did! Elizabeth grew into an amazing and dark character, but she also grew on me! I may not agree with every thing she did in this story, perhaps you won't either, but I can assure you that you will understand and perhaps end up agreeing with her on why she chose darker paths.
I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been one heck of a journey, for me and Elizabeth!
Reviews are always appreciated.
Bioware owns everything.
A special thank you to Tigress, my wonderful beta, who dealt with my grammar and who's support has been a bliss.
1. The Last Cousland
Crepuscule was falling on Highever. The grey shadows of night slowly wrapped the green expanse as the woods leisurely turned silent. The flat land stretched for miles with peaceful softness, and amidst of it all, stood the Cousland Castle, proud and tall.
Elizabeth walked through the castle of her father with a faint frown on her face. Her long brown hair cascaded on her strong shoulders down her back, gently swinging to the rhythm of her echoing footsteps. She was eager to get back to her room, for the end of the day had finished in frustration and disappointment. After her father had told her she was not going to battle alongside of her brother who was leaving tonight to join the King's army, she had had to retrieve her hound dog Cerberus from the larder and had to bear the cook's ear-piercing shouts.
She sighed and stopped for a second, stretching her sore back and taking a deep breath. Her day had begun so well : she had spent it riding her new horse, a dark brown stallion by the name of Russet. When the horse had come to the castle, the wranglers had declared him astray, too wild for anyone to mount. But Elizabeth had a way with horses, and had gained its trust and affection at a speed that had amazed everyone.
She had trained in the forest until nightfall by herself trying to improve her dual wield skills, while her four legged friend grazed grass where he could find it. For Elizabeth was nothing but this : a lone wolf, distant and mysterious, preferring the quiet solitude of the lands to the busy and eventful castle.
She suddenly pulled out of her musing as she heard her mother talking close-by. She walked towards the sound.
"Ah! There is my lovely daughter. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchen is handled?"
Elizabeth smiled. Her mother Eleanor had a way of speaking her mind, and with great eloquence. A talent she had not acquired : all she did was speak her mind, and rather bluntly.
"Nan's head exploded and the dog ate the kitchen staff" Elizabeth replied, and then added with a smile, "Yes Mother, all is well, dinner will be served according to plan".
As her mother introduced her guests, Elizabeth politely smiled : over the years she had managed to look alert, listen with one ear and when asked a direct question say something appropriate. As her mother carried on chatting, her thoughts drifted back to what her father had said to her, and about that strange other guest of theirs, Duncan, a Grey Warden. She had read a lot about their order, tales full of journeys and exploits, of sadness and glory : Fearless warriors doomed to sacrifice for a serene world. Dreaming of a life of adventure, she had read every book in the library she could lay her hands on, passionate about tales of magic and bewitched dragons. Duncan's offer of joining him and his order had been tempting, but, her duty lay at the castle.
"It's good to see you my Lady. You look as beautiful as ever".
Dairren's words, the son of her mother's guest, had taken her out of her reverie. Elizabeth had indeed grown into a beautiful woman. Her tall and slim figure gave her a royal and imposing presence, and yet her face preserved all of its childish youth. Hesitant, she raised her sparkling green eyes towards Dairren with inquiry, and simply thanked him. As the conversation drifted to the subject of marriage, Elizabeth's legendary impatience started to kick in and she shot a glare at her mother.
"How kind of you to remind me yet again how much grandchildren are more important to you then what is happening outside this castle".
And before her mother could reply, she hastily bid her leave to hurry to her brother's side. She had just turned 18, and her mother's restlessness to wed her had caused some friction between the two for quite a while now. "Must a woman's completeness only rely on a loving man?", she asked herself. She felt guilty snapping at her mother like that, but she could irritate her so sometimes! Shaking her head, she walked into her brother's quarter, where himself, his wife Oriana, and his son Oren were biding their goodbyes.
"Fergus!"
A genuine smile spread to her face as she greeted her brother and ruffled Oren's hair. She adored her brother, he was the only thing she had of a friend, and she looked up to him with respect and love. Seeing him off saddened her greatly.
"I wish I could come with you Fergus" she quickly added while crossing her arms, "But it seems Mother and Father have other plans for me, 'lady plans' if you will".
"Oh come on sister" Fergus replied, laughing, "don't be such a scoundrel. Time will come soon enough for you to draw your own path. Though, I too wish you would come along, who's going to watch my back while I fight?"
Oriana made a noise of disapproval. Elizabeth paid no attention to her.
"Just remember to swing your sword like I taught you and you'll do perfectly fine" she said with a laugh.
"Lies! It's not because you beat me at dueling once or twice that-"
"Once or twice?" Elizabeth cut with a grin on her face.
"Alright. Alright. Maybe more then you ought to. Never the less, don't embarrass me in front of my family."
As Elizabeth announced to her brother he had to depart tonight, she couldn't help but feel a light sting to her heart. Wishing her best to her brother, she hugged him goodbye and headed to bed early, as her father had asked of her.
Lying in her bed with a book on her lap, Elizabeth looked up and stared at the door in front of her. She couldn't help but have a bad feeling about her brother's early departure. She always had good hunches about everything and anything, and it was hard to surprise her. Rubbing her eyes, she blew the candle out next to her bed, and put her book aside. As she lay in the darkness of her room her thoughts drifted back to the Grey Wardens, and sleep slowly dawned on her.
Swords clang in the distance. Far away screams of pain and fear rang through the halls as Death scattered its cold breath within the ramparts of the castle. It had not been long after the departure of the last soldiers that Howe's man had assaulted the castle. They had stroke in the middle of the night when everyone would least expect it.
Elizabeth held her lifeless baby nephew in her arms, confused, terrified. His body was still warm and yet, his stiffness was unmistakable. She had been woken by Cerberus' barks, and then a servant had sprung into her room warning her of the attack, instantly killed by an arrow of Howe's man. Her mother was right : they were not attacking to take hostages. They were attacking to kill them all. Eleanor cried in pain.
"Oh, poor Fergus… Let's go, I don't want to see this!"
Elizabeth didn't understand. She couldn't understand. Howe's betrayal seemed so out of place, so confusing. What were his intentions? Why would he do this to an old friend? She ran through the halls, filled with rage and desperation, slicing through anything that came her way.
"We need to escape the castle. We need to leave now. Where is father? And where in the Maker's name is a Grey Warden when you need him?" Elizabeth spat with disdain.
In normal circumstances, her mother would have said something about her scorn tone , but she could barely scatter her thoughts.
"The servants' exit, like ser Gilmore told us. Let's go."
Corpses of Howe's men left a trail behind Elizabeth, tears falling down her pale cheeks. Her pain had transformed into a consuming fury of retribution, where each and every blow of her sword became more and more violent. Her face was spattered with her enemies' blood, her armor was stained, and her eyes had lost their usual spark. They had turned dark, and the only thing you could see in them was wrath, and ache.
And after what seemed like forever, Eleanor and Elizabeth, breathless and exhausted, arrived in a dim room where lay the man they had been looking for.
"Bryce!"
He stood in a pool of his own blood, fearful despair in his eyes, as life was slowly escaping him.