Author's Note: The beginning of a story-the ways it could have been. Uses my personal Warden characters for each Origin and in some ways was an exercise in developing them. The series will include spoilers for all the origins. This first story is based on the human noble origin.

Disclaimer: The characters, concepts, and storyline herein all belong to BioWare and the associated individuals and companies, not to me in any way, except for the input of my own interpretation and characterization of the PC. I make no claims on ownership of any copyrighted material, or characters and concepts that don't belong to me.

Cousland

One of Siobhan Cousland's first memories was of trying to find her father and failing, until finally she'd found him in the kennels. He hadn't told her to go away, but his face had been grave as he stroked the head of a mabari lying on its side and panting with effort. She'd knelt by the dog's side and stroked her belly, asking her father what was wrong. He'd explained that the dog had taken a fall and broken a great many bones, and that she would have to be put down, then asked her if she wanted to go back into the keep, maybe to play with her brother, when she'd jerked back, horrified.

"But, Father," she'd said, "can't we heal her? Can't we do anything?"

"Sometimes, pup," he'd replied, heavily, "there's nothing more we can do, and it's our duty to know when that is, to make that decision." They'd already tried healing, he explained, and they were afraid more would simply prolong the hound's agony. Siobhan had asked, then, why her father, the teryn himself, had taken upon himself to end the life of one of his favorite hounds. Surely someone else could have borne the unpleasant duty instead.

"It's the teryn's job to make the decisions, and it was I who made this one," he'd told her. "It's my responsibility to see it through."

Siobhan had been perhaps five years old, but she still remembered those words, the expression on her father's face, grave and earnest, as he'd said them. She hadn't gone back to find Fergus. She'd stayed and watched, holding the dog's head on her lap, even though it made her cry, and afterward, her father had taken her shoulders in both hands and told her that she was a fierce, brave girl, that she had the heart of a mabari and the spirit of a Cousland, and that he couldn't ask for a finer daughter.

Siobhan had known ever since that day that to carry that name meant responsibility, even if she wasn't the heir, like Fergus. Maker knew she hadn't always been a perfect daughter—far from it, in fact. Her preference for practicing skill at arms until she was sweaty over fine gowns gave her mother headaches, she let her own hound run amok and torment her old nurse, heckled her brother until he retaliated so that their playful spats were a matter of renown, and was, as her father often lamented, hardly hiding his pride, too headstrong to discipline. She would rather roll about on the floor wrestling her mabari than discuss the new Orlesian silks with her brother's bride, and had once made Bann Frida cry by telling her exactly what she thought of her when asked. But Siobhan had always done her best to be a worthy daughter to her parents, and despite all the grief she gave her brother, a good sister, as well. She'd studied her family's history and the duties of a teryn or teryna, and eventually had learned than when it came to convincing people to your point of view, honesty, as her father had told her after the Frida incident, trying to hide his chuckles as he did, was not always the best policy. She took the advice to heart and practiced her diplomatic skills on Nan, Mother Mallol, old Aldous, and anyone else who would give her a chance, and had soon progressed to her father's knights and her own parents, with more luck begging snacks from the cook than anyone but her own dog to show for it.

Siobhan had always hated feeling helpless, and she had never felt so helpless in her life as she did when she and her mother found her father bleeding his life out onto the stones of the cellar floor, and in that moment, Siobhan would have gutted Howe and watched him die with pleasure if he'd stood before her. She wanted to rage and cry and beg her father not to leave them, but she knew that none of those things would be what her father wanted her to do. He would want her to remember her responsibility, so she tried to push back her emotions, tried to be strong.

She didn't have much success—she could feel her tears on her face—but she couldn't scream her anguish aloud in front of the Grey Warden Duncan, wouldn't shame her parents now, in their last moments, so she choked down her feelings and looked her father in the eyes as she said goodbye, even as tears ran down her cheeks and dripped off her nose and jaw.

"Be brave, pup," her father said, and she'd remembered that day in the stables so long ago, remembered learning of responsibility and loss for the first time, and vowed that she would never let it be forgotten what it meant to be a Cousland, no matter what happened, Grey Warden or no. Sometimes, pup, he had said all those years ago, there's nothing more we can do, and it's our responsibility to know when that is, to make that decision.

This was her father's decision. His last decision. So for now, she would follow Duncan and become a Grey Warden, she would do it for her father and mother and Oriana and Oren and Ser Gilmore and all the others, for the Couslands, for Ferelden, but she wouldn't forget, and she would never let Howe get away with what he had done to her family.

"I'll never forget you, Father, Mother," Siobhan had said through her tears. "I love you both so much."

She'd hugged her mother goodbye, and had wanted to shut her eyes and stay in that familiar childhood embrace forever, never open her eyes and return to the real world where the scent of her home burning and her father's blood hung heavy in the air around her, but she couldn't, Duncan was waiting. So she said her farewells and followed him to become a Grey Warden without looking back.

She hadn't been able to protect her family, but she would protect Ferelden. And no matter what, she would do the name of Cousland proud.