noble intentions

"What you mean, you made a decision for 'my own good'? You didn't even bother to consult me before making promises on my behalf! Am I to have no say in this 'arrangement' of yours?" Angry snippets of heated conversation between three distinct voices filtered through the heavy ironbark doors of Highever Castle's Great Hall. The sun had barely risen over the tops of the parapets, and already the day was looking rather glib indeed, considering the tones that echoed off the stone walls of the corridors. What he had heard was all the introduction that Aedan needed to realise that his mother and father had finally caved in and delivered the news they'd been harbouring for more than six months – his younger sister, Avelin, was to be the mistress of King Cailan Theirin, the Cousland childrens' childhood friend and current ruler of Ferelden. Cailan's wife, Anora mac Tir, had been declared barren by the Landsmeet nobles after failing to produce an heir after being Queen for almost six years, much to both the young monarchs' dismay. The nobility had begun debating on which lovely noble Ferelden daughter could become a possible mistress for the young king. As had been expected from the start of the debacle, Avelin Cousland had been the name of suggestion from almost every bannorn, with only a few putting other names forward. Aedan was hardly surprised – his sister was well-loved by the people, almost moreso than Anora herself, and she was a voice of reason in an otherwise tough crowd on many of the country's more delicate matters.

At seventeen, Avelin Dehlila Cousland was the epitome of noble beauty, even if in appearances alone. Skin as pale as winter's first snow, hair as dark as the moonless night, the youngest Cousland had become the talk of all noble men and their sons before her thirteenth nameday– a feat her parents found thrilling, but Avelin found abhorrent. Much to the dismay of her parents and most other nobility in Ferelden, she had taken to learning how to fight the year she'd turned fourteen, training with Highever's best knights in arms. Night and day she trained, learning basic footwork and weapon skills before advancing, eventually even besting most of their more seasoned soldiers. Avelin was known to many as the Jewel of Highever, but to the soldiers of the estate the young Cousland was known as " The Morningstar", for she was bright but lethal, and could command the attention of any she came across with a single look in her brilliant grey eyes. The phrase "if looks could kill" passed the lips of many soldiers as the years wore on, and she'd felled all but Highever's best knights by her sixteenth nameday. On the day she turned sixteen, Avelin was pitted against Roderick Gilmore, her father's second. It was a fight that every soldier in Highever had stopped to watch, including the Teryn. Though Avelin had been the underdog by a long shot, she came out of the fight bloody but victorious, a brilliant smile etched onto her youthful face. As a gift for both her birthday and for defeating Ser Gilmore in single combat, the men had all chipped in to have a set of armour smithed specifically for Avelin – a gorgeous plate set of gold and blue hues, the Cousland family crest emblazoned on the breastplate with one addition: a morning star in the centre of the laurels. Avelin took pride in that armour set and it's matching weapons, cleaning the swords and shield that the men had also taken care in procuring for her. Aedan couldn't remember a time in his twenty-six years where he'd seen his sister light up as she had when receiving that armour.

Pushing open the side entrance to the Great Hall and clearing his thoughts, Aedan made his way into the room knowing full well that his presence would not be acknowledged for a time yet. As his sister's guardian, however, it was his duty to listen to the conversation, and mediate if the conversation took an unpleasant turn; something that was entirely expected as of late, especially given how vocal and opinionated his younger sibling was. "Please tell me you're joking." Avelin begged of her parents, angry splotches of red marring her otherwise pale complexion and her bright grey eyes thunderous as they bore into her parents' gazes. When their parents both hesitated a brief moment before opening their mouths to speak, it was all the answer that Avelin needed. Clenching her fists tight enough to split the skin on her palms, she spat a very venomous proclamation. "If you think I will become Cailan's mistress just to advance this family and it's ties in the King's Court, you are mistaken. If you think, for even a moment, that I will lay with my childhood friend solely to produce an heir for this kindgom, you are delusional. I will not become a plaything to be used at Ferelden's whim and woe, duty or not!" With that said, she turned on her heel and breezed by Aedan, her shoulder slamming into his as she exited the hallway.

"Well that went spectacularly, didn't it?"