Title: The Fereldan Archives- The Legend of the Warden
Author: Shadowveyl (TaevaFae on DeviantArt)
Summary: Sinister intentions, greed and betrayal were hallmarks to what changed the fate and the life of Fianna Cousland, youngest child to the Teyrn and Teyrna of Highever, forever. Torn from home and family by blade and fire, Fianna is recruited to defend her homeland from a monstrous foe who seeks to destroy the country. When the king is slain in battle, the responsibility to restore his divided nation and defend it against an impending doom rests firmly on her shoulders.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters (except Fianna and Keeva), settings and most dialogue are property of BioWare and David Gaider. All rights reserved.
Warning: Story contains spoilers of the Human noble origin, overall game storyline as well as adult language, violence, suggestive and adult themes. Reader discretion is advised.
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The brilliant Fereldan sun rained down upon the training yard where a young woman stood. Despite what appeared to be light armor, her shoulders sagged as she leaned forward in her exhaustion, her chest heaving for breath. Her arms were limp at her sides, her left bolstering a shield of wood embroidered with steel. Her right with a long sword of glistening iron appointed to her hand. Before her stood a practice dummy, cut to shreds by her sword and very sorely missing it's head of which lay tattered on the ground in a mess of straw and cloth at her feet. Her moonlight-fair skin was flushed and glistening with a layer of sweat from the labors of her training, dark brown hair with a subtle sheen of copper by sunlight clung to her damp brow as beads of sweat trailed down the sides of her face.
Her armor was a composition of iron and leather. While the breastplate was formed of iron, the sides of her bodice were sewn together with strips of leather and fastened to the woven iron aspect of the bodice to achieve flexibility for the wearer in battle. Her bracers and greaves were also composed of thick, hardened leather. The shoulder-pieces, knee-plates and elbow-pieces were all composed of iron as well. Not to be outdone by the bodice, the skirt followed a similar design. Pleated iron clung to hardened leather flaps of which were not fully attached to the iron.
With the sound of the portal door to the training yard clashing against it's stone frame, she quickly stood erect with an exaggerated sigh as if to shrug off her exertion. A maid approached quickly, with the lithe grace that often equipped elven women. Her frame was daintily small and lean as was standard for women of her race, with an attractively curved jawline and large, chocolate-brown eyes. Her sand-colored blonde hair was tied back in a traditional maid's pony, emphasizing the unique, feminine shape to her face. On one arm, a cloth was draped and in the other hand a pitcher of water.
"Here, my lady. Wipe the sweat from your brow and drink away your thirst. I have a message for you from his lordship, the Teyrn." The elven maid said hastily, her voice sounding as anxious as she looked.
The armor-clad young woman turned her head to one side, placing shield and sword securely to her back before plucking the cloth from the maid's arm, her brows furrowing with confusion to the elf's demeanor.
"Keeva, how long have you worked here in this castle?" She asked the elven maid, pressing the cloth against her brow and cheeks to wipe away the sweat.
Keeva seemed to pause in whatever thoughts had stirred her distress as her eyes came as close to meeting her mistress's confident, exotic, torrential sea green-blue ones as she dared, her own brows furrowing in thought as she silently counted within the confines of her head.
"About five years now, my lady." She answered finally, her voice gentle and even.
Finished drying herself, the young woman accepted the pitcher from Keeva, hesitating to raise it to her lips as she spoke with a half-smile playing upon her lips.
"Then don't you think it is about time you address me as Fianna instead of keeping up formality when it is just the two of us?" Her tone was teasing and playful before she raised the pitcher to her lips, sipping the contents at first before realizing exactly how thirsty she truly was.
Keeva seemed to wait until Fianna was done hastily downing the pitcher's contents, water carelessly streaming from the corner's of her mouth down her neck and beyond. With a satisfied gasp, Fianna parted her mouth from the lip of the pitcher to hand it readily to a waiting Keeva.
"I don't think it is appropriate for one of my station to address a noble bred lady such as yourself to anything less than formality dictates." Keeva said firmly, taking the dampened cloth from Fianna's outstretched hand gingerly, intentionally casting her gaze to the ground.
Fianna remained silent for a moment, unwilling to press the issue further and risk making the elf uncomfortable before it clicked in her mind. "You said my father had a message for me?"
Keeva seemed startled with the sudden realization that the minor distraction had caused her to forget her original purpose for coming. "Yes!" She said hastily, her nervous disposition returning once more, "Your mother wished me to inform you that his lordship, Teyrn Cousland, would like to see you in the Main Hall. I was told it's quite urgent."
"Do you know for what reason?" Fianna inquired with genuine interest.
"I don't know, my lady," Keeva confessed, "but whispers around the castle suggest it has something to do with the guests."
Fianna's lips pursed as she pondered thoughtfully for a moment. Her mother and her guests had come by the yard to observe her training for a time, but they were a small few and surely not capable of riling up the servants to the extent of discomfort that Keeva displayed. The only other guest she could remember being in the castle at this time was...
"Arl Howe." Fianna concluded.
Keeva nodded hesitantly, "Its most likely, my lady. We were told to prepare for a large gathering to come in the night. Even the kitchens have been quite busy."
Fianna sighed, lifting a hand to cradle her head in the heel of her palm. "Which means the Arl's men are delayed." She groaned, unable to hide the frustration in her tone.
Keeva remained silent as Fianna seemed to register this new bit of information. The dark-haired warrior maiden strode for the door with the elven maid close at her heels, "I'll go see my father now, then." She announced and disappeared from the yard with a loud thud of the portal door.
"No, no. The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago, myself." Teyrn Cousland said sympathetically, turning to face a well-dressed older gentleman standing at the foot of his fireplace steps. Teyrn Cousland stood atop those steps with arms folded behind his back like any proper nobleman. "I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!" He announced in his regal voice, arms at his sides as he strode forward down the shallow stairs to approach his grey-haired old friend.
The Arl's voice, nasally as it was, held the hint of a smile as he spoke in good humor, "True. Though we both had less grey in our hair then. And we fought Orlesians, not... monsters."
The Teyrn laughed loudly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he returned the jest. "At least the smell will be the same."
Fianna closed the chamber door behind her, a light crash of the thick wood against stone announced her arrival to entire main chamber as her father and his guest turned their attention in her direction just in time to see her swiftly approach.
Her father was a handsome, well-groomed man by many standards. His grey, shoulder-length mane was well-kept and the beard that circled his mouth to include a stubble mustache bridged the large gap between nose and mouth, giving him a rugged appearance despite his noble status. His attire was a yellow and red elabroately-made tunic, complimented by red breeches ending in lightly tanned leather boots.
The Arl, on the other hand, kept true to the nobleman image. He was not an ugly man by any means, but he was much more plain than Fianna's father. A bent, beak-like nose towered over a wide, thin mouth with short, neatly-kept grey hair and a small patch of beard hiding in the crevice between mouth and chin. His own style of choice was a dark blue tunic with a purple-black vest that covered the chest and shoulders, accompanied by a cloth belt around his middle of a similar color. His breeches were dark grey like his hair, with verticle white lines tucked into a pair of black leather boots.
"I'm sorry pup; I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my daughter?" Her father apologized, addressing his question to the man standing beside him as he stepped aside to allow his daughter room to stand.
She stopped abruptly before the two older gentleman just as Howe gave his appraisal, "I see she's become a lovely young woman." he said politely, "Pleased to see you again, my dear."
Proper noble etiquette was something Fianna did not particularly enjoy partaking in, but as a nobleman's daughter she applied her lessons and cast a charming smile upon the Arl of Amaranthine. For her father's sake, if for nothing else.
"And you, Arl Howe. Is your family here?" She questioned in her sweetest and politest of tones.
The Arl grinned and shook his head gently, "Oh no, I left them in Amaranthine, well away from the fighting in the south. They do send their best wishes."
Fianna's smile widened, for despite the Arl's weasely character she was fond of his wife and children. A part of her felt a bit disappointed that they had not attended with the Arl.
"My son Thomas asked after you." He interjected through her thoughts, seemingly trying to carry the conversation. "Perhaps I should bring him with me next time."
Yes, she remembered Thomas well. He was a sweet young man, but he was much like his father in his manner. She could not deny him for this reason without insulting the Arl, that much was certain. However...
"To what end? Thomas is a few years younger than I am."
The Arl was quite quick to answer, chuckling through his nose. "As you get older, those years make less difference. A lesson often hard won."
"I doubt she'll be receptive, Howe." Her father interjected, "My fierce girl has a mind of her own these days, Maker bless her heart."
Fianna sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker for her father's intervention of the topic, but Arl Howe gave a transient laugh from deep within his chest, "No doubt because you've trained her as a warrior. How... unique."
Fianna kept her face an expressionless mask as the Arl seemed to sneer the word "unique" like an insult. An insult that seemed to go overlooked from her father. She suppressed the slowly welling, fiery anger burning through her blood to strain her ears for the words her father had next to say.
"At any rate, pup, I summoned you for a reason." He began expeditiously, "While your brother and I are both away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle."
Fianna gaped at her father in surprise, taken aback at this request. It was a large responsibility to be left in charge of the castle, one usually given to her mother or to Fergus. To be given this task now under such hard times was a demonstration of her father's absolute trust in her. Still, to be among the army at Ostagar, put her skills to use and partake in the slaying of those who would destroy her home did sound appealing.
"Are you certain, father? Why can't I go into battle with you and Fergus?" She asked curiously.
Her father smiled, "I'm certain you'd more than prove yourself, but I am not willing to deal with your mother if you join the war." He breathed a laugh as he spoke those words, his smile disappearing as he continued in a more serious modulation, "She'd kill me if I let you go. She is already twisted into knots about Fergus and me going."
Fianna sighed, mentally cursing to herself. She knew he was right as he usually was. Her mother's greatest pastime was worrying, and her father was entrusting the entire castle while he and Fergus were away solely to her. Something he had never done before and was a very great honor to be trusted so readily.
"Very well, father. I'll do what you think is best." She conceded.
"Now thats what I like to hear." Her father's smile returned, "Only a token of forces will be remaining here, and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"
It was Fianna's turn to smile, the saying was something father would always say to her and Fergus if they got into mischief while he was away from the castle. Their nanny would always be the first to tattle on their misdeeds if their mother didn't tell him first. Each time he would begin a scolding with "while the cat is away, the mice shall play."
"There is also someone you must meet." He said, interrupting her reminiscing as he turned about to face the guard stationed behind him, "Please, show Duncan in."
The guard turned his head to give the Teyrn his attention, thumping his armored chest loudly with his fist in salute upon receiving the request, and briskly hurried off.
Moments later, they were joined by a dark-skinned man with shoulder-length, black hair graying at the temples, tied neatly back into a pony. Strands of hair escaped their taming, fallen upon his broad brow. His face was kind for one so heavily armed, covered in a scruffy yet well-kept beard. Beneath his armor appeared to be a red peasant's robe, covered by a steel breastplate of intricate design and impression. Around his waist was an assortment of belts, fastening a leather bag and a white robe layered over the red from waist to heel to canvas his pleated steal skirt. His appearance reminded her of what her brother once described as a Revaini, though she had never seen one for herself.
"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland." The man known as Duncan said politely, his voice a surprisingly deep and sensuous timbre.
"Your lordship!" Arl Howe spoke with obvious surprise, "You didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present."
"Duncan arrived just recently," Teyrn Cousland explained, " unannounced. Is there a problem?"
Arl Howe scoffed, "Of course not! B-but a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am... at a disadvantage."
"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, thats true." Fianna's father mused, turning his gaze upon his daughter, "Pup, brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope."
Fianna nodded quickly to answer, "They defeated the darkspawn long ago."
Casting her almond-shaped green eyes upon Duncan, she noticed his saddened reaction to her response.
"Not permanently, I fear." Duncan replied, the corners of his mouth downcast into a subtle frown.
Fianna's father was quick to add, "Without their warning of the darkspawn rising now, half the nation could have been overrun before we'd had a chance to react. Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the South. I believe he has his eye on Ser Gilmore."
"If I might be so bold," Duncan began politely, "I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate."
The Teyrn stepped in front of his daughter protectively, his brows furrowing as if to issue a silent challenge to the Grey Warden. He was quick to protest, in a tone that was firm and almost chastising for one about a head's length shorter than the Warden and completely unarmed by comparison. "Honor though that may be, this is my daughter we are talking about."
"Is there a reason I shouldn't join them?" Fianna inquired insistently. Fianna felt honored that the Grey Wardens wanted her among their ranks, and the idea was very appealing. It would allow her to put her skills to practice and she would be able to fight the threat alongside her father and brother as one of the fabled great warriors. However, it would also mean giving up family and home. To forgo any responsibilities her father honored her with as one of his heirs to the Teyrn.
Surprisingly, Howe seemed to agree with Fianna's question, pressing the matter further by reminding Teyrn Cousland the honor of having his child serve under the Wardens. Something she had not expected after having picked up on his insult from earlier, "You did just get done calling them a band of heroes, old friend."
But her father would not release her to the Warden so readily. He defended his position promptly, speaking in address to all. "I've not so many children that I would gladly see them all off to battle." He explained, hesitating before he added, "Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription."
"Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I have no intention of forcing the issue." Duncan relinquished.
With the matter settled, the Teyrn turned his back on the Warden to face his youngest.
"Pup. Can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone?"
Fianna's face was serene as she nodded, completely businesslike as she made her promise to her father, "Of course."
"In the meantime, find Fergus. And tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me. "
"Where is Fergus?" She asked of her father.
"Upstairs in his chambers, no doubt." He mused sadly, "Spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson. Be a good lass and do as I've asked. We'll talk soon."
Fianna nodded, bowing as was customary for a noble-bred child, "I wish you well, Arl Howe." She said politely, in a gentled tone that she hoped displayed kindness.
The Arl's reaction surprised her as he seemed taken aback at her words, open-mouthed for several minutes before he finally managed to get his response out. "Well, thank you! But... " he trailed off for a moment as he removed his gaze from her's to examine something on the floor to his left, "... it is... unnecessary."
Fianna tilted her head to one side to openly demonstrate her confusion but mentally shrugged off the strange reaction, casting a final gaze in Duncan's direction who seemed to be carefully assessing her in turn, before making her way out of the main hall. As she reached the door, a voice addressed her that had attracted her attention, driving her a few steps away from the door as she stood before them.
"Greetings, my lady." The armored soldier who had summoned her began, "You are the Teyrn's daughter, are you not?" The man was not familiar, and the shield of which he bore was of Howe's insignia. Fianna felt uneasy as she caught his eyes roving up and down her armored form like a starving man sizing up his next meal.
"I am. Who are you?" Fianna asked, her tone harsher than she had intended.
"A bodyguard to Arl Howe." He inclined quite readily, paying no mind to her rudeness, "I understand you will take charge of your father's castle once we march."
Fianna folded her arms across her chest. It was all she could do to defend herself from the discomfort she felt listening to this man whose voice felt like an unwanted caress. Something about him just seemed off. The way he spoke, his mannerisms and a sudden curiousity in the goings on of the castle just seemed far too suspicious.
"So I am told." she alleged imprudently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she cast a sidelong glance toward the door.
As if made privy to her desire to flee, he quickly spoke his farewell in that bone-chilling voice of his, "Then I wish you luck. Good evening, my lady."
With that, Fianna quickly bolted for the door unnoticed by the nobles in the room, closing it swiftly behind her. She shook off the disquiet of her mind, shuddering visibly before speaking resolutely to herself, "Now... off to find Fergus."