AN: I know people might be tired of Cousland/Alistair fics, but I still wanted to write this story for me, to cover the backstory, character development, and missing scenes that I envisioned while playing the game.
This fic has been edited a lot, notably the shift to past tense, but other than additional scenes I'll be adding, won't be altered any more.
Dragon Age is a trigger warning in and of itself, but please let me know if I should add any specific warnings.
When Anne was eight years old, she broke her arm falling out of a tree. It was a massive, old, gnarled thing, out by the stables, and she'd been eyeing it with eager eyes for a year, waiting until she was tall enough to reach the best handholds. No one else was outside—she'd timed her attempt carefully—so no one heard the crack of bone, or her shuddering sobs. She breathed in jerky little gasps until the pain receded enough that she could move, and then carefully stood, cradling her arm as close to her chest as she could.
Her face twisted into an angry scowl, Anne marched toward the castle. She managed to make it halfway toward her father's study before anyone stopped her. She glared at Margaret, usually her favorite guard—the only one who would let her play with the practice swords when her dad and Fergus weren't there.
"I'm going to tell him," she declared. And then added, because she knew her face was dirty with tear tracks. "I'm fine."
Margaret's lips twitched and Anne suspected she was being laughed at, which deepened her scowl. The older woman nodded. "Very well, Annie. But I'm going to escort you there, alright?"
"Okay," she muttered in response. Their parents had told them never to argue with the guards, or Nan, because they were older and wiser and just wanted to keep Anne and Fergus safe. And because it was disrespectful and Couslands were always supposed to be respectful and kind.
It was hard to always be respectful and kind when she got excited or impatient, but Anne tried her best.
It was that rule that made Aldous her favorite. You were supposed to argue during lessons, that was how you learned things. And Aldous wasn't always respectful either, so he tended to let things slide.
He wasn't in the library when they passed through and Anne steeled herself. Her father was going to be disappointed in her. He would have helped her climb if she'd asked, and she didn't know if she could explain why she hadn't. Why she'd wanted to do it on her own.
Margaret patted her shoulder and gave her a wink, then leaned against the wall outside the door. Anne lifted her chin and walked inside. Couslands always told the truth, and never hid it when they'd done wrong. "I made a mistake," she told her father. His eyes widened and he dropped the papers he was reading as he caught sight of her arm. "I didn't know the moss was so slippery."
Her father stood up and then settled onto his knees in front of her. He reached out to gently touch the hand of her injured arm, before sighing and meeting her stubborn gaze. "Was that your only mistake?" he asked, his voice soft and his eyes warm with affection.
Anne felt tears trying to escape again and shook her head. She hated crying. "I should have asked for help," she said, grudgingly. "But I just wanted to prove that I could do it!" she couldn't help adding, her voice rising in childish indignation.
Her father smiled and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to jostle her arm as he rested his chin on her head. Annie sniffed and buried her face in his shirt to hide her tears. If no one could see her, they couldn't prove anything.
"Oh, Annie. There's nothing wrong with asking for help. It doesn't mean you're not strong, or capable. And you, pup, are both." Annie sniffed again and her father gave her one last gentle squeeze before pulling back. He took her chin in his hand so she had to meet his eyes. "Now, let's go visit Nan, and her stash of healing potions. And when you're better," he paused and gave her a serious look. "I'll help you climb the tree."
Anne stared at him and then grinned, almost throwing her arms out to hug him in her excitement before she remembered how much one of them hurt. "I love you, daddy. And I'm sorry."
He grinned back at her and then rose to his feet, resting his hand on her back as he guided her out the door. "I love you too, pup." He squeezed her shoulder. "When we get to Nan, why don't you ask her about the time Fergus tried to climb the shelves in her pantry? I think you'll like that story."
Anne giggled, and smiled up at Margaret who was still standing outside the door. "Want to come hear stories about Fergus?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
Margaret laughed and pushed off the wall to follow them. "I would love to. Might even have a few to tell."
Annie grinned in delight and let her father lead them out of the library toward the kitchen. She bet Margaret would like to join them when she climbed the tree. Not Fergus though. Couslands were supposed to share without complaint, but she was willing to break that rule once. The tree was hers and she was going to conquer it.