Chapter I

In a centuries-old castle that was built long before the establishment of the country of Ferelden itself, nestled in the green hills of Highever, a raven-haired youth clad in leather and chain was quickly packing a rucksack with supplies as she rushed to join the men who were gathering outside and preparing to leave for battle. King Cailan, the only son of the country's legendary King Maric and grandson of the Rebel Queen, had sent forth the call to all of the lands of Ferelden to send out their armies and join in the fight against the darkspawn at Ostagar. Highever's army was gathering immediately in response. Her brother and father were leading the forced march to the ruins in the wilds this evening, and Anlessa had every intention of joining them.

A whine and scratching at the door broke Anlessa's concentration as she determined the best items to bring to her first time on a true battlefield. She frowned and scurried to her bedroom door, cracking it open to see her faithful Mabari hound waiting outside. Opening the door further, she whispered hoarsely, "Come on, then. Hurry in before Mother hears."

"I believe it's far too late for that, dear girl." Anlessa's mother stepped out from beside her daughter's bedroom door, arms crossed and thin lips set firmly in evidence of annoyance that she'd seen so many times in the past. The Teyrna looked at her daughter in burning disapproval, the severity of her glare heightened by the propriety of her attire, and the perfection of her intricately woven hair. "You cannot truly believe I would allow my husband and both of my beloved children to run off into the wilds together?"

Anlessa scowled. This was the reaction that she'd expected from her mother, and precisely the reason she wanted to be out and mingling amongst the Highever army before anyone was the wiser. Proudly, she retorted with every bit of confidence she could muster. "It is my duty to join the army, Mother. I'm a good fighter, and I can be there to help protect Dad and Fergus. I have to go with them."

Her mother shook her head, her countenance softening as she smiled in appreciation at the powerful young woman before her. Eleanor Cousland was no stranger to the battlefield, and many years back had met her husband, Bryce, in camp between battles with the Orlesian army. She knew the value of a woman's unique strength and grace to a nation's army, and had instilled a sense of power and pride in her own daughter. Still, she would not risk losing the majority of her family in one fell swoop if the worst happened at Ostagar. "Anlessa, my sweet child, your father has a request for you, but I would prefer you hear it from his own lips. You will be needed here while your father and brother fight the darkspawn alongside the King, but I promise you this – you will find your own glory in battle in the future. Let your brother and father have this time alone together."

The young warrior sighed. Not yet at twenty winters passed, she was still her mother's daughter and loathed disappointing the matron of the Cousland clan. Pouting, she countered, "I could be of use to the King now, too, mother."

Teyrna Cousland smiled and embraced her young daughter, "Of this, I have no doubt. However, your duty is here." Looking skeptically at Anlessa, she added, "And please, my dear... dress appropriately when you meet with your father. He has some very important visitors today, and I would appreciate it if you dressed as the Teyrn's daughter when we sup together, rather than his bodyguard."

Anlessa's nose wrinkled briefly in protest. "As you wish, mother. I will be by presently."

Eleanor kissed her youngest child gently upon the forehead, replying, "That's a girl. Now, go have fun with our guests."

Closing the door after her mother, Anlessa sighed and opened her wardrobe, noting the lush noble gowns made of Orlesian silks and those made of Ferelden wools hanging gracefully next to bulky suits of armor in chain and leather. With a sigh, she reached for one of the heavy winter gowns and prepared to meet the family's guests.


The Cousland estate's great hall served as the family's chosen gathering place for formal meals and guest reception. Today, Anlessa learned that her mother was hosting Lady Landra and her son, as her father hosted Arl Howe and a mystery guest for whom she was to be on her best behavior.

"Ah, there you are, Pup!" Bryce Cousland, patron of the small but powerful Cousland clan, gestured at his daughter while addressing the grey-haired Lord who stood nearby. "Arl Howe, you remember my daughter, Anlessa?"

"Indeed, and she has obviously grown into a fine young woman, Bryce. A pleasure to see you again, my dear." The older Arl took her hand in greeting, raising it to his lips. His blue eyes twinkled with merriment underneath his sparse grey mane. "My son has been asking after you, child. Perhaps I'll bring him with me the next time I visit."

Anlessa bowed her head in greeting, smiling genuinely at the chance to see her father's old friend and compatriot again. "Would that be Thomas?" She smiled coyly at Howe, batting her dark lashes. "I'd welcome his visit, but… to what end?"

The elder Cousland smirked, crossing his arms and examining his daughter as Arl Howe laughed heartily. "'To what end?' she says! So glib, too. She's just like her mother, Bryce."

"You see what I have to contend with, here. There's no telling this girl anything, and when she and her mother combine forces…"

"No doubt because you trained her as a warrior." Arl Howe raised his chin slightly, still smiling but his disapproval showing nevertheless. "How… unique."

Bryce had known Arl Howe long enough to know the man preferred the ranks of his armies filled with men, and only men. The Couslands, on the other hand, had a strong history of allowing the best of Highever's warriors to serve in the army and guard, regardless of gender, or rank. Only recently, Bryce had expanded the recruitment for warriors even to Highever's elven alienage, which Howe would no doubt find even more distasteful. Looking at his daughter, however, Bryce could only see his own beloved Eleanor as she was decades before – one of but a handful of noble women he'd encountered who was willing to pick up a sword to defend her country, and he loved her for it. He could only hope that Anlessa's betrothed, whoever it may be, would also honor her as a warrior, and an equal.

"Pup," Bryce said, turning to his daughter, "I have a very important task for you while Fergus and I are away. I am leaving you in charge of the castle."

Anlessa blinked in surprise. The castle? That meant he was leaving her in charge of all of Highever. "Father, are you certain?"

He smiled reassuringly, "I need someone to watch over the land while we're gone. I'm leaving a small contingent here to keep order and protect the castle, but it needs to be led by a firm hand. If the worst happens while Fergus and I are away, it is up to you to continue the Cousland name."

Anlessa felt her heart swell with pride at being given the keys to the city, but her worry still remained. "I've never done this before, Father. Shouldn't Mother be the one in charge?"

Bryce shook his head firmly. "You are of age, my dear. The time will come when you will be expected to lead, and this is the perfect opportunity to show us what you're made of. Your mother and Lady Landra will be leaving in the next few days, and that will leave you with Oriana and Oren to keep you company, and I guarantee plenty of issues to keep you busy while we're gone." Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he clasped her shoulders warmly, saying, "I have complete faith in you, Pup. You will make me proud. Now, before you head off to say farewell to your brother, there is a guest I'd like you to meet." Turning toward the guard manning the North entrance to the Hall, he said, "Could you please show Duncan in?"

Anlessa noticed that the guards stood a little straighter as the bronzed warrior entered the room. Her father's guest wore finely made light armor, his breastplate adorned with the picture of a rearing griffon, enameled in a beautiful royal blue. Most notably to Anlessa, however, was the fact that his beautiful armor was covered in the markings, nicks and dents that proclaimed it had seen its share of battle, and so had its owner. His face was weathered but handsome, neatly bearded in chestnut brown, and his long hair tied at the base of his neck and just beginning to show the silvering signs of age. By his countenance alone, Anlessa could see the man had a grace of movement that hinted to his exceptional skill, and a confidence of bearing that showed he feared nothing. Seeing Arl Howe and the Teyrn's daughter, he smoothly bowed, one arm cocked behind him. Both Anlessa and Howe bowed in return as Bryce introduced the man, "Arl Howe, Anlessa, may I present Duncan of the Order of the Grey Wardens. Duncan, this is the Arl of Amaranthine, and my darling daughter."

Anlessa's ears pricked at the introduction and she looked at her father, then Duncan with excitement. Arl Howe, obviously uncomfortable, remarked, "Such an honored guest, Bryce. Visitors like this require a certain amount of preparation… I am at a disadvantage."

Smiling broadly, Anlessa addressed Duncan, her head inclining in respect. "It is an honor to host you here in Highever, Grey Warden. Pray, what brings you to Highever? Will you be following our forces into Ostagar?"

Duncan's head lowered in acknowledgement. "I hope to follow them shortly, my Lady. I am here, however, to seek new recruits to join our ranks and help to end the Blight."

Teyrn Cousland smiled proudly, adding, "I've asked him to come to see Ser Gilmore, Pup."

Anlessa smiled. "Ser Gilmore must not know that the Warden is here for him, then. If he knew, he'd be bouncing off of the walls."

Duncan cleared his throat respectfully, and addressed the Teyrn, "If I may be so bold, my Lord, I would also say that I've heard your own daughter would make a fine candidate for recruitment."

Anlessa's eyes widened in hope even as Bryce's countenanced visibly darkened and he stepped forward, reflexively stepping between his youngest child and the leader of Ferelden's Grey Wardens. "True as that may be, Duncan, I am not so quick to send my only two children off to Ostagar simultaneously, leaving them in Fate's clutches. Unless," he added, eyes narrowing slightly, "you intend to invoke the right of Conscription."

Duncan waved his hand dismissively as he shook his head. "I will do no such thing, my Lord. I was only making an observation. I have no interest in angering any Lord of this land, much less during such a tumultuous time."

Bryce relaxed, smiling genuinely. "I am glad to hear it, Warden." Turning back to Anlessa, he said, "Now, Pup, I need you to take a message to Fergus for me. He is to take the Highever forces and head to Ostagar this evening. Unfortunately, the Amaranthine forces have been held up and will not arrive until tomorrow at the earliest. The King will need all of the forces he can get as soon as possible."

"This is entirely my fault, I'm afraid," added Arl Howe, "If I had reinforced the levees at our border, my troops may have been able to leave before the rains. I believe my faith in your father's capabilities allowed me some complacency." With a laugh, he added, "I suppose that makes this my fault as much as his. I must admit, it will be good riding with your father again."

Anlessa smiled, "Then I would simply like to wish you well, Arl Howe, in your journey."

Howe blinked in surprise, eyebrows arched high. Recovering with a smile, he responded, "Thank you, dear girl, but that is quite unnecessary. I cannot possibly foresee anything going awry."

Bryce agreed with a nod, "Nor I, old friend. Anlessa, while we're gone I ask that you take care of Duncan's needs while he evaluates our halls for recruits. Now, go see to your brother as I have some business to discuss with Duncan and Arl Howe."

Anlessa curtsied gracefully in acknowledgement, and then went to her father to exchange a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the grand chamber. As she quietly closed the large oaken doors behind her, she noticed Ser Gilmore standing nearby, desperately trying to look casual. She grinned, sauntering over to him and whispering hoarsely, "You were listening in, weren't you?"

Gilmore's pale skin turned red as his hair as he attempted to deny the truth. "No, my Ladyship. I was simply… on the lookout."

"Hmm… is that right? Looking for darkspawn, perhaps, to sneak out of the Great Hall?"

Gilmore bit his lip nervously, his bright eyes betraying his excitement and his question. "Is it true, my Ladyship? Your father's guest? He's here for me?"

Anlessa grinned broadly, and gently took the knight's elbow in her hand, guiding him away from the Great Hall so they might have some privacy. She nodded, adding, "He's amazing. I don't know what kind of battles he's seen in the past, but he looks like he could take down Father's entire army single-handed. And yes, Father volunteered you for consideration."

Gilmore breathed in sharply, hope rising in his breast. "Maker bless him! The Grey Wardens! Can you imagine? Me, a Grey Warden! It would be everything I'd ever dreamed of!" Forcing himself to calm down, he added, "Of course, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. Pardon my outburst."

The young woman laughed, "Oh, you're quite welcome to an outburst for this occasion, Gilmore. I would be just as excited, if Father would allow me to be recruited." Pouting, she added, "Of course, that will never happen, no matter how much I'd like to join you. Imagine, the two of us fighting together under the Griffon's banner, battling darkspawn instead of scouring the countryside for bandits and wolves."

She looked up at the Knight, who was wistfully gazing into the bright blue sky, and gave him a playful punch on the arm. "Just don't forget me once you've won fame and glory, Gilmore. I expect you to return to Highever with a multitude of exciting stories to tell."

Hearing the disappointment masked by her well-wishings, Gilmore smiled and replied, "Who knows? Perhaps your Father will relent some day and send you off for recruitment, as well."

"I can hope, certainly, but pardon if I refuse to hold my breath."

Gilmore chuckled, "Fair enough. Now, if you don't mind, I need to head out to the range and… well, I want to be in my best form when I'm finally called to meet him."

"No worries. Maker's Luck to you, my friend."

"And to you, my Ladyship."