Chapter 2: Watch Over

Duncan watched the two men, not really listening to their words, just more of the same back and forth, Loghain half berating the young king, Cailan all smiles waving the Teyrn and his concerns away. "If only Maric we here" Duncan thought "He had always taken the threat of a Blight seriously."

Finally it appeared that this round of vocal sparring was over, the latest scout reports had arrived and Loghain wanted to study the maps and consider what implications, if any, the new information would have on the battle plan. Duncan moved to follow the Teyrn from the king's tent but stops when Cailan puts a hand on his arm.

"A moment Duncan," the king said softly.

He turned back to face the king, "Yes your majesty."

"Lady Cousland, how is she doing? Cailan asked, a slight far away expression on his face as he continued "I've only seen her once before, she's grown into an incredibly beautiful woman."

Duncan sighed, so like his father in many ways, but there were darkspawn to contend with and the king should be concentrating on that not the latest pretty face to catch his eye. Not for the first time Duncan considered telling Cailan that preventing the blight from happening had been the reason that king Maric had disappeared from the palace with a group of Grey Wardens all those years ago. That it was while fighting to keep Ferelden safe from the danger it now faced that Duncan and Maric had become friends. But no, that would mean having to reveal too many of the orders secrets, secrets that were paramount if the wardens were to continue in their duty in the fight against the darkspawn.

"Tell me what happened at Highever, how did the attack happen?" Cailan suddenly all but demanding, "How on earth did Arl Howe plan to explain this away?" The king's eyes flashed dangerously and Duncan half smiled seeing more than a hint of Maric in that look.

So Duncan described the attack, the things he'd seen during the fighting and when he got to how Teyrn Cousland had requested Duncan take his daughter and the Teyrna had decided to stay behind and die with her husband, Cailan's face was more serious than Duncan had ever seen it, far more serious than when discussing the darkspawn threat. Thoughts of his own father perhaps, the tales of his grandmother the Rebel Queen, who his father had seen murdered?

"We decided it best that no-one knows who she really is." Duncan finished, "There's likely to be some of Arl Howe's men in Ostagar looking to harm Fergus Cousland, and I doubt they would hesitate to finish the job started at Highever."

Cailen nodded, silent for a moment before saying "I want you to find a way to keep Lady Cousland and Alistair out of the battle."

Duncan arched an eyebrow at the young king "Your Majesty?"

"I'm not a complete idiot Duncan," Cailan replied. "I have no heir, Alistair is the last of the Theirin bloodline after me, he needs to survive and with no way of knowing until after the battle if Fergus Cousland is alive…well I'm not about to let one of the oldest noble families in Ferelden be completely wiped out."

Cailan paused "No, we must find a way to give them a chance of surviving the battle and pray that the Maker watches over them."

Duncan nodded saying "May the Maker watch over us all, your Majesty" before taking his leave of the king.

Lost in thought Duncan walked back to his fire, Alistair would hopefully be back with the three recruits soon, so long as they didn't come across too much trouble. A low huff from the mabari anxiously waiting the return of his mistress brought a worn smile to Duncan's lips. "She'll be back soon boy" he tells the dog, patting him on the head before sitting done next to the fire. Shan whines softly then goes back to his silent vigil, staring out towards the darkness of the wilds.

The conversation with the king had brought the young Cousland woman back to the forefront of Duncan's thoughts. Since the night she'd promised to do her duty to the wardens her demeanour had become more distantly reserved rather than outright cold and empty. She was still very quiet, mostly still only speaking when spoken too; always very polite no matter whom she was speaking to. When talking to others it was almost like she'd fallen into some kind of diplomatic noble mode. Duncan wasn't sure that she was even aware she was doing it or that she was even aware what the subjects of most of those conversations were about, not that anyone seemed to notice so smooth her responses.

He'd also noticed that her hands never strayed far from the daggers on her hips whenever anyone got close to her, fingers always twitching slightly ready to grasp the hilts at even a hint of danger, whenever anyone but Duncan got close that is. It seemed she'd decided that as he'd not left her to die in Highever he was worthy of a little of her trust. After what she'd been through he doubted that Callie Cousland's trust was something that would easily be given ever again.

Duncan felt very weary at that thought, she had placed her life in his hands, given him her trust and he was betraying it. Not maliciously, he did not wish any harm on the girl, but sometimes when he let his thoughts run away from him, he felt like he was betraying those he recruited. Never telling them the truth about the risk in joining the wardens or exactly what kind of life they would be condemned to. A life he hadn't even wanted for himself, no definitely wasn't what he would have chosen, but it was a necessary life.

Duncan sighed pushing those thoughts away; he hoped that Alistair's company would help Callie. The boy didn't have a bad bone in his body, so sincerely honest it was impossible for him to hide his feelings from showing all over his face. Always making a joke out of everything, always ready with a warm smile, Duncan couldn't think of a better person to help her ease her pain, even just a little, he hoped.

A sudden excited bark and Shan was jumping up from his silent watch at Duncan's feet. Looking towards the edge of the camp the mabari hound bounced from side to side and Duncan felt some tension he hadn't noticed was there ease out of his body when he saw Alistair and his charges break through the forest edge. They looked bloodied and weary but unharmed; looking down at Shan he said "Go on then boy" and smiled as the hound tore off to greet his mistress.


Alistair was glad to be getting back to camp, that little trip to the wilds had been a bit too full of excitement for one day thank you very much. What with all the darkspawn, wolves, sneaky witch thieves and most of all the crazy dark haired girl, who had just been beside him a moment ago, wait a minute where the...Alistair turned to look back, oh there she is, underneath a couple of hundred pounds of mabari that he seemed to have completely missed launching itself at her.

"Way to go Alistair" he thought to himself "Good job watching over the recruits, don't even notice one of them brought down by a charging mabari!"

Thank goodness she's not been crushed, Maker's Breath, is she kissing that beast? Alastair gaped for a moment at the sight of girl and mabari greeting each other wondering if all women were crazy or if it was just this one.

Seeing that Duncan was waiting for them by his fire Alistair turned away from the scene and headed over to his commander. He handed over the vials of blood and the old treaties and told Duncan about the encounter with the creepy old witch and her witchy daughter. He continued to think about that meeting...shudder...while Duncan told the three recruits to go get cleaned up, well they were all covered in darkspawn blood.

"Well?" Duncan's gravelly voice broke in to Alistair's thoughts. He made a move with his head directed at the leaving recruits when Alistair looked up.

"Daveth kept his head mostly, Ser Jory's a bit iffy on the courage front and Callie, well she's just plain scary" Alistair replied.

Duncan raised an eyebrow, is that a skill that comes naturally or has he had to practice, daily perfect arched eyebrow exercises? Alistair wondered "Come on she's well scary. Look at her, who would think that quiet tiny...well not tiny, in the tiny sense, you know what I mean...pretty half beat-up looking girl, and I've got to ask what in the Maker's name did you do when you recruited her for her to look like she's been fighting half this army? Anyways...we come across the first darkspawn group and she just runs right in to the middle of them daggers out, stabbing and slicing. Not even a pause, a brief look of horror, nothing. Frightening I tell you, frightening."

Duncan looked...amused, is amused the right word? Alistair hoped that was what he was leaning towards, amused is good, amused is happy. "It was almost like she had a death wish the way she was dancing about in the thick of them."

Duncan's face went serious and his voice low when he said "She saw her family murdered Alistair, her home was attacked and she had to fight her way out to escape. Her wounds are from that night and she's quiet because part of her is still in shock and because she no longer knows who to trust. I'm only telling you this because she's going to need your help; she needs someone she can place her trust in, someone who'll be there for her."

"You think I can help her, how?" Alistair was surprised at that, how could he help her?

"You're a good man Alistair, you have a good heart. Be a friend, she's yet to grieve for her loss and the more time that passes before she does the more painful it's going to be for her." Duncan patted him on the shoulder, "Now I think you should also go get cleaned up and something to eat, I have things to attend to."

Alistair nodded absently as Duncan left him, lost in the thoughts Duncan had put in his head with the news of Callie's troubles.

He wasn't spying on her, he was watching over her. Watching over her, yeah that sounded like the right phrase, making sure she was safe, that no-one bothered her. That's what Alistair told himself anyway as he made himself more comfortable, making sure he kept an uninterrupted...but not obvious...view of Callie sitting off to the side by herself. She hadn't moved too far from Duncan's fire, just enough to set herself apart from the others, her mabari lying by her side.

When he first met Callie, Alistair had tripped over his words, spouting out the first things that came into his head. He had made an idiot of himself he knew that, but she was just so beautiful, with her long dark wavy hair and the sky blue eyes. Ok so she'd had dark circles under those eyes, and there was an empty kind of look to them. There were faint ghosts of nearly healed bruises across her cheekbone and jaw on the left side of her face. A red angry row of stiches that started on her neck, over her collarbone and continued down under her armour that looked like a wound caused by some kind of blade, sword or dagger he wondered. These things seemed to add to her beauty, making it fragile and precious in some way. He'd felt an overwhelming and irrational need to protect her, to take care of her, which was ridiculous really, seen as he couldn't manage to take care of himself half the time.

In the wilds though, he hadn't been joking, well not too much anyway, when he'd said she was frightening. She had walked beside him quiet, not joining in with Daveth's banter, ignoring Ser Jory's comments, even her movement was quiet. Alistair had never met someone who could walk so silently especially in a forest where there were twigs and leaves that cracked and rustled under your feet. It was kind of like she was a ghost, wasn't really there, she was pale enough to be a ghost although she was reeaally quiet and weren't ghosts supposed to be noisy all moaning and weeping, looking for revenge or lost love or something.

In fact, apart from when dealing with those two witch women, and how did she manage to stay so cool and polite and so diplomatic sounding talking to a couple of apostates that could have turned them into toads at any second? The only time she'd spoken was when Ser Jory had suggested turning back to camp. Her voice had been dripping with contempt when she'd pointed out that as Grey Wardens it would be their duty to hunt and kill darkspawn.

During their fights with the darkspawn she'd been just as quiet, the only sounds made by her were from the clash of her daggers hitting steel or leather. Alistair had been yelling and shouting like a madman, mostly, so he told himself, to keep the darkspawn focused on him in his heavier armour than on the lithe figure weaving amongst them that was only wearing thin leather. Even Daveth and Ser Jory had been making a racket, Daveth mostly curses, and the man did seem to know a lot of them, and Ser Jory sounded like he was praying the whole time.

And the way she fought, Maker's Breath it was like she was possessed. Only once when coming upon a group of darkspawn had she not just ran straight in, dagger in her right hand trailing behind her pointed to the ground, dagger in her left hand held horizontal across her body, and that was only because of traps in front of the darkspawn that she stopped to disarm. It had been like she danced with the darkspawn, her daggers flashing as they caught the light, always moving never staying in one place too long. Which was just as well really, seen as it was only the fact that she kept moving that saved her from being skewered by a longsword or losing a limb to a great axe, Alistair had seen a couple of close calls in that regard. No she had seemed to have no fear of the up close and personal death that she was handing out or risking.

Watching her now though Alistair couldn't see her being capable of all that cold killing, she'd pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them; she looked so small like that. And he noticed that instead of the blank empty expression she normally had, her eyes were full of pain and her expression so sad that Alistair could feel his heart breaking a little for her.

The wind across the back of his neck made Alistair shiver and he realised he was getting cold and come to think of it hungry. Getting up he headed to grab his cloak and get something to eat, glancing over to where Callie sat he had a thought.


Callie couldn't remember being this tired. She didn't think she'd even been this tired after leaving Highever. Duncan had kept them both running through the night till well past dawn before he had decided they were far enough away to find a safe spot to rest. She supposed it was more to do with the energy used to fight and kill today that made her feel so tired. Darkspawn were harder to kill than men it seemed, and she had fought with more darkspawn today than men that night at home.

Home…that word brought a pain to her chest that choked her for a moment. She didn't have a home anymore, they'd taken it from her, but some had already paid in blood for it and she would see that the rest pay even more she promised herself. How many had she killed that night? She couldn't remember all she could remember was the rage and grief that coursed through her, the need to see all the attackers' dead. She remembered the one who'd suggested to his friend that they have a little fun with her before they killed her. She'd gutted him while Shan tore the throat from his friend.

She didn't really remember how many they had killed today either, it had to have been a lot from the amount of blood and gore she had cleaned from her armour and her daggers. The first darkspawn they'd come across had filled her with horror and the revulsion that swept through her at the sight of their torn flesh and the smell of rot and decay coming from them had almost made her vomit. King Cailan's comment about taking her grief out on the darkspawn had come to her though and she managed to choke back the bile and the fear and lose herself in the violence.

The thought that if it hadn't been for the darkspawn horde there wouldn't have been a need for an army, Fergus and her father's men would never have been gone from the keep and Howe would never have attacked crossed her mind at some point during their first fight. This thought filled her when she acknowledged it, fuelling her desire, her need, to kill and she had thrown herself into the task with unholy abandon.

A shadow fell over Callie and her hands instinctively went to her daggers, looking up though she saw it was Alistair, the almost-templar Grey Warden, and she relaxed a little. She knew it wasn't wise to trust anyone, not now, not after what had happened, but something about the blonde Grey Warden didn't make her mind scream danger danger like it usually did when anyone other than Duncan came near. Maybe because he was a Grey Warden as well? She didn't think so; it was maybe his inability to hide what he was thinking from showing on his face or his total inability to not make a joke of everything that made him seem not a threat, but she wasn't sure.

"Here, I thought you might be hungry, and you know...em...maybe cold" Alistair said holding out a bowl of stew in one hand and a cloak in his other, a nervous looking expression on his face.

He smiled at her when she took the cloak off him, fastening it with one hand while taking the bowl of food. She tried to smile back and hoped it had been a smile and not a grimace considering he looked so nervous, why exactly was that? She didn't want to make him any more so.

He sat down next to her, Shan gave a low growl but Callie silenced him with a gentle hand on his head. Not that she that blamed the dog, her hackles had risen as well, her body going tense with someone being this closed to her. Shan huffed, got up and moved to lie down between her and Alistair, giving another huff before closing his eyes.

Callie waited, thinking that Alistair was going to start talking; she really hoped he would just say what was on his mind and leave. She didn't feel threatened by him but that didn't mean she wanted to make pleasantries or small talk with him. All he said was "eat" before settling into silence, realising he wasn't planning on leaving she sighed to herself and did as he said.

Callie was almost finished with her food when she realised that she didn't actually mind Alistair's presence. He continued to sit quietly beside her radiating warmth and a quiet strength that reminded her of Fergus. Whenever she was upset but didn't want to talk about it her brother always just sat down beside her like Alistair had done, not saying a word just waiting for her to decide she was okay. Then the memories of Fergus and home washed over her and pain tore through her body, wanting nothing more than to curl up around that pain and not wanting to reveal it to Alistair she got up hastily.

"Thank you for the food. I think I'm going to try and get some sleep" she told Alistair before heading to her tent as fast as she could while trying to make it look like she wasn't fleeing from him.

She threw herself down on her bedroll, curled into a tight ball and tried to empty her mind of memories, of thoughts. When she finally felt calmer, she started drifting towards sleep and just before darkness took her she heard Alistair's voice whispering softly "Don't worry boy, I'll watch over her too."