As the days came closer to Bryce and Fergus Cousland's departure for Ostagar, Orion couldn't help but feel as though the weight of the world were slowly being put upon her own shoulders. As the youngest of Bryce and Eleanor, Orion had never thought she would actually be in charge of Highever on her own. She had taken up political studies. She had grown up in Landsmeets, formal dinners, and pompous parties. However, she had always assumed that it would be Fergus who inevitably lead their glorious home.

Of course, no one had anticipated a Darkspawn incursion.

The day her father told her that King Cailan himself had requested that he and Fergus lead Highever's men into glorious battle was the day her assumptions crashed to violently to the ground. Orion only hoped that she had paid enough attention to her studies to run the Teyrnir smoothly so that her father and brother would have a home to come back to. Or that she might avoid the wrath of her mother's lectures if she made any mistakes.

Orion Cousland pulled her dress over her shoulders quickly, struggling to fit the garment correctly as befits a woman of her stature. Thankfully, Ser Gilmore was just outside the door. Orion pushed past the heavy wooden door and turned her back to the knight. Without prompting, Ser Gilmore began to tie the back of the dress so that it fit her frame properly.

"I mean no disrespect, milady," the knight said, as he tightened the strings, "But, you still look and smell of the guard barracks."

The Cousland girl grimaced and turned to face the knight as she put hair up in a loose ponytail. Ser Gilmore had sweat rolling down his pale skin, and his fire-red hair hadn't looked much different. She suspected that it was from their very heated sparring match just a few minutes before, and she also suspected that she probably looked much the same.

"Then, thankfully it's only Arl Howe here for the moment," She began, "And I don't particularly care about his opinion on my hobbies." It was no secret among the nobility that Orion Cousland enjoyed a life unrestricted by her parents. Her father secretly enjoyed that Orion relished in combat, and her mother couldn't complain about it because she was the exact same way when she was younger. Orion, in return for parents support in her freedom, had always been diligent in her studies and kept up appearances when it was required of her. It didn't keep others from gossiping, including the Howes who had been family friends for years.

The only thing that Orion actively complained about were the arranged marriages, or the attempted arranged marriages. The Teyrna had insisted that she be married off years ago, afraid that her darling daughter would die alone and childless. Her fears were misplaced and extremely early considering Orion was only barely twenty. Nevertheless, her father's support of letting her choose her own husband when she was good and ready was the only reason she was not already married off to some poor noble boy. Honestly, there probably weren't many men out in the world, noble or not, who could deal with Orion's personality.

She had remembered some poor boy who had come to her in the night, like the stories. He had thrown pebbles at her window, how the guards did not catch him beforehand she would never know. The boy was a son of a Bann in the south, and if not for his bumbling attitude, he would have been very nice. This did not stop her from mocking the events with Fergus the next day.

'May I compare thee to a summer's rose,' Orion scoffed. 'I'd rather be compared to a blighted rose.' Fergus laughed heartily at the dinner table while his wife, Orianna, smiled and shook her head at the siblings revelry. She knew that Orianna had agreed with her private, but not this openly, and certainly not in front of the Teyrn and Teyrna. Eleanor looked at her daughter disapprovingly, but had remained silent. Bryce had simply taken it upon himself to let his daughter vent these feelings in the privacy of family, and not say, passive-aggressively at a Landsmeet.

'Why, if I may ask dear sister, would you want to be compared to a blighted rose?' If there was anything that the Cousland siblings had in common, it would be their sense of humor, their silver tongues, and their independent personalities. No one was as much a supporter of Orion's outspoken personality and will than her dear brother. Orion set her dining fork down and crossed her arms, looking to her brother as if the answer to his question were obvious. 'A blighted rose is strong. It grows out of necessity and not complacency. A blighted rose is survivor, not just some gift that exists to appease.' And with that, the Teyrna had shut down the conversation once and for all, obviously annoyed at her children's banter.

Lost in memories, Orion began to hurry down Highever Castle's walkways, leaving Ser Gilmore to continue with his own duties. Her father had called her down to the Great Hall to speak with her briefly before the end of the night. In the morning, he and the Arl would be on their way to Ostagar. Fergus, on the other hand, would be leaving tonight. Bryce Cousland was not aware that Orion was already keen on the Arl's situation, and she would not let him discover that she knew so because the guards had told her. It was one thing to get herself into trouble for eavesdropping, but it was another to get guards with loose lips into trouble themselves.

"-least the smell will be the sa- oh, pup! I'm sorry I didn't see you there."

Teyrn Bryce Cousland was a saint among men. His gray hair and wrinkled skin gave up his age, but age was only a number. It was his grayish-blue eyes that told his true story. He was kind and just, and his mere presence radiated warmth. He adored his family, his children and grandchild especially, and would do anything to preserve the lives of his people. His sense of duty drove him to work harder for the future of all under his care. Orion remembered a lecture he had once given her on the way to a Landsmeet a few years prior. "A Cousland always fulfills their duty. A Cousland always works for the people. A Cousland never breaks their promises." It was one of the few lectures that had stayed with her in her youth.

"Howe, you remember my daughter?"

"I see she has become a lovely young woman. It's a pleasure to see you again my dear."

It had been two years since Orion had met Arl Rendon Howe face-to-face. His aging face revealed more about him than it did her father's. Although he had been friends with the Cousland Family since before she was born, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable by the noble's presence in any situation. He was the pushiest of the nobility trying to shove suitors in her face. Thomas and Nathaniel were fine men, and Orion considered Delilah a true friend, so it wouldn't have been terrible to join the Cousland and Howe families, but Orion detested being pushed towards any decision. The Howe children knew this, it was simply their father who was too thick to understand.

It wasn't just the pushiness of the man that offset Orion from him. There was something in him that she couldn't quite grasp. She was good at reading people most times. It was a talent of hers. There was something about Arl Howe that seemed force or faked. At one point in his life, she was sure that he was genuine man, honest and true. However, she only sensed an aura of masked bitterness. For what of, she wasn't sure. Yet, her father continued to trust the man relentlessly, and Orion Cousland trusted her father's judgment.

Orion tipped her head slightly to the Arl, "And you, Arl Howe."

"My son, Thomas, asked after you. Perhaps, I shall bring him with me next time."

"To what end?" She scoffed. They had this conversation many times, and Howe never seemed to want to drop it. It was clear to all but him that Orion had decided against the arrangement.

"Hah, such glibness in this one. Sounds like her mother!" Howe spat back. His voice was filled with joviality, however Orion could tell that the words were meant to sting slowly and over time, just the same as poison. Rumor was that Howe had adored Eleanor Cousland before she was ever actually a Cousland. Perhaps, it was this past that Howe's seemingly bitter attitude came from. He never seemed to speak evenly when he mentioned the Teyrna, so it was as good a theory as any.

"See what I contend with, Howe? There is no stopping my fearsome girl. At any rate, I summoned you for a reason, pup. I wanted to go over a few more things with you before I leave the castle under your care. " Bryce had turned his full attention to his daughter, successfully distracting the nobility from another recycled argument. She had to remember to thank him later for his quick thinking, but the topic at hand did not make feel any more comfortable.

"Are you certain, Father? Mother will still be here. She is more up to the task than I."

"I need you to keep peace while your brother and I are away. Your mother is perfect to replace me if need be, however, the people respond to your words much more peacefully. They adore you. Besides, you know what they say about mice when the cat is away. Oh, and before I forget, we have another guest I would like you to meet before we are off." The Teyrn turned to the nearest guard. "Please, show Duncan in."

The man who soon approached could have been somewhere between mid-to-late forties. His hair was black, tied into a short ponytail, and his skin was tanned, not naturally, but as if his skin never saw shade in its existence. What caught her eye though, was not the man's age or appearance, but his armor. She had only ever seen Grey Warden armor in paintings, and she had always assumed that they were dramatized, that they could not be as beautiful as the artist's rendered them. It was in that moment, meeting Duncan, that she realized how wrong she was. She marveled at the armor. It was simple, not nearly as extravagant as many the armor pieces she had seen in her lifetime, but they were truly beautiful. What mostly caught her eye were the griffin pieces that covered the shoulder. It took fine craftsmanship to make those pieces. Even the weapons the Warden had strapped to his back were breathtaking. The hilts themselves looked as if they were spun in gold.

It took a couple minutes for Orion to snap out of her stupor. Thankfully, she hadn't been entirely addressed yet. Howe and her Father had been too quarreling about protocol in the presence of a Grey Warden. She could care less about social protocol, and she could tell by Duncan's patience that he probably felt the same way. Finally, her father conceded, addressing the youngest Cousland girl.

"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing a Grey Warden in person, true. Pup, Brother Alduous has taught you who the Grey Wardens are, did he not?"

Brother Alduous was the castle's leading scholar, and her own private tutor. He took up most of her studies, conceding politics to her mother. He was a strict and rigorous teacher, but he never failed in keeping her attention. He was one of the only reasons she was so well educated. He knew how to teach, or more specifically, he knew how to keep a noble's head in the right place. Grey Wardens were not a huge subject in Ferelden's history. They were banished once, and were only recently invited to return by King Maric. It was Orion's intrigue in Grey Warden's that had led Alduous to continue specific studies with them.

Orion nodded, confirming her knowledge to her father as well as the Warden, "They're an order of great warriors, warriors of the Blight."

"Yes that is correct, dear girl. Duncan has come to Highever looking for recruits. If I remember correctly, he was looking at Ser Gilmore specifically." Her father replied. Duncan, finally spoke. "Yes, though if I were to be so bold, I would say that your daughter would be an excellent candidate as well."

Excitement ran through Orion's blood like a virus. She had often dreamed of adventuring off as a Grey Warden, battling the vicious Darkspawn, saving lives, not having to worry what people thought of her. Nobility was a blessing and a curse, but Orion often thought of it only as a curse. At least as a Grey Warden she would have the freedom to be herself. Orion knew, however, that her father would never allow it. What few precious moments of excitement she was allowed to experience was dashed quickly under her father's words.

"Honor as though that might be, this is my daughter we're talking about. I'm not so anxious to see all my children off to battle. Unless, you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription."

Among Orion's many studies of the Grey Warden, one of the most unsettling parts of the Warden's power was the Right of Conscription. The Grey Warden's had the right to recruit any person from convicted criminal to the King himself into the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Orion found it so upsetting particularly due to her noble upbringing and pro-choice attitude. The Right of Conscription had the potential to be a political nightmare, and it had the ability to take choice out of the equation. No matter if you didn't want to be a Warden, if the Right of Conscription was used, you were a Warden.

"Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue," Duncan replied. It was a statement that had both brought her great relief as well as disappointment. If she were to become a Grey Warden, it would be her choice. Teyrn Cousland turned away from Duncan, quickly addressing Orion again. This was a habit of her father's that few people tend to pick up on. When something gets uncomfortable for him, he quickly but smoothly changes topics. It hardly noticeable, unless you look for it.

"Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I am away?"

"Of course."

"In the meantime, tell Fergus that he must take the troops with him ahead of me to Ostagar tonight. It seems the Arl's men have been delayed, and I would be a poor host if I were to leave him here while he waited."

Orion nodded, trying not to make it too obvious that she had already known. She turned to Duncan once more. "If I may inquire a bit further before I take my leave, serah," She asked. Duncan looked as if he were willing to indulge her curiosity, one of which would have been allowing her to take the same test as Ser Gilmore, but the hesitation in his voice said otherwise. "I believe your father wishes to speak to the Arl and I alone."

"Tonight, after dinner then?"

Duncan had smiled. It was a warmer smile than Orion had expected from him. He was a warrior. He walked and talked like a man in charge, and her preconceptions of the Wardens did nothing to calm her fascination to the legend standing in front of her. It was as if he was enjoying her stubborn attitude.

"Tonight, of course, milady. I will indulge your curiosity until you've had your fill."