WARNING! Please read: The following chapter contains a section which implies (if not outright states) that a character has been raped, and brutally so. Also, the section involves the implied (again, if not outright stated) brutal death of a child. If either and/or both things upset you personally or otherwise make you uncomfortable, then please, skip past that particular section. The section in question is roughly around the beginning of the attack on Castle Cousland (I think you all know which part of the game I am talking about, and have written in this chapter). In any event, please accept my apologies if the section in question has upset you if you choose to read it (really, I am sorry), and I hope you at least enjoyed the rest of the chapter. Thank you for reading.
- Jonathan.
The Wreath of Highever.
Chapter Three: A Family Together. A Family Lost.
"And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais, last year," said Teyna Eleanor Cousland as she presented the jewelled necklace to her guests. "The marquis who gave it to him was drunk, I understand, and mistook Bryce for the king!" She chuckled at the thought, as did one of her guests, Lady Landra, a dear friend of Eleanor's for many years. She was just about to talk some more to her guests about her husband's trip to Orlais when her daughter walked towards them. "Ah, here is my lovely daughter," she began, a loving smile gracing her daughter. "I take it then, that since the kitchen is now silent and your presence here that the situation there was handled?"
Of course, Mother! She wanted to say. Nan's head exploded and Dogmeat ate the kitchen staff! But at least somebody will have a full belly tonight. Instead, Elissa said something else, something which perhaps better befits a scion of the Cousland family. "Yes, Mother," she said. "Nan is back to work as we speak."
Eleanor smiled at her daughter. "You've always had a way with her," which was true, if anyone were to ask anyone who had been with the Cousland family ever since Elissa was a child. As much as Elissa confounds her sometimes, although not as much as her dog, Elissa Cousland had the acid-tongued old woman wrapped around her little finger since day one, though not in the bratty way of most children, indeed Elissa even sometimes considers her old nanny a part of the family.
"Darling, you remember Lady Landra?" she introduced her friend to her daughter. "Bann Loren's wife?"
"Yes," said Landra, "I think we met at your mother's spring salon." Elissa remembers that day well. Lady Landra was drunk, and had spent most of the salon either flirting with the more handsome of the castle's residents, and trying to play matchmaker with her and her son, none too successfully. "Of course," the young Cousland answered politely and bowing toward the older woman, "it's good to see you again, my lady."
"Oh! You're too kind," Landra smiled. "Though didn't I spend half the salon trying to get you to marry my son?"
A young man standing behind Landra coughed nervously. Her son, Dairren, Elissa believed his name was. As she remembered from that day, the young man was rather embarrassed at his mother's display. "And made a very poor case for it, I might add, Mother," he said, a fierce blush threatening to emerge from his face.
"You remember my son, Dairren?" Landra introduced her son, though she somehow found it necessary to add: he's not married, either."
Good for him, Elissa thought. He seemed like a nice enough young man at the salon, but alas, Elissa is no more interested in him than she was then. What was it about people trying to match their sons with her today? That was the second offer she's had today, and neither seems all that attractive to her. Her dowry must be going up the roof with the amount of offers she has turned down. But Elissa knew that one day, in the not-too-distant future; she'll have to marry someone, if only out of pragmatism. But in truth, pragmatism was a very unattractive prospect to her. She has seen it all the time. It was the reason a lot of nobles enter into relationships. And not just in Ferelden, but throughout all of Thedas. They would get together, produce heirs, and then ignore each other, as if some warped business arrangement has been concluded, and the participants no longer want anything to do with each other. Elissa didn't want that for herself. She didn't want to be somebody's brood mare whose one purpose was to pop out children and then be ignored. She wants something like what her parents have, and what Fergus and Oriana have; a true, loving relationship. She wants to be with someone who would love her for her, for who she is, and not because her last name is 'Cousland'.
Elissa's musings were interrupted when Dairren spoke to her. "Don't listen to her," he said embarrassed for his mother, although as embarrassed as he was, Dairren still gazed upon the younger Cousland as if he was very much interested in her. "It's good to see you again, my lady. You are looking as beautiful as ever."
Well, isn't he the charmer? "Thank you, ser," Elissa said, earning her a deeper shade of red from the young man's blush. It'll be as red as his hair if he didn't relax. "Oh, I'm not a 'ser', my lady," replied Dairren. "Not yet, anyway. I am hoping to squire for your father though."
Lady Landra then introduced Elissa to her elven lady-in-waiting, Iona. Who had declared that it was an honour to finally meet the lady Cousland, and she had described her as being as beautiful as her mother had described.
"And she says that after watching you in the training yard, whacking practice dummies and sweating like a mule!" She said glancing at the way the elven maid was looking at her daughter. It seemed as though she is currently harbouring a crush for young Elissa, she is certainly looking at her as if sharing her bed was an attractive thought for her. Not that there was anything wrong with that kind of thing, of course. While it seemed a little…odd to see in Ferelden, there was nothing immoral about it. Even in Orlais, it was seen as a mere quirk in character, though in fairness having a session with two greased nugs, a lady pirate, a 'magic wand', and a dwarven transvestite was a quirk of character in Orlais.
"I was once the battle maiden myself, in my day, Elissa," she continued. Not the 'battle maiden' lecture again! Elissa exclaimed mentally. "But I think it was the softer arts that helped me land a husband."
"Yes, mother," Elissa said with the impatience of someone who has been told the same thing a hundred times. How many times does she have to say those exact same words to her, again and again? To say that it wore on her would be a colossal understatement. "I can handle my own affairs, thank you."
"All evidence to the contrary," retorted her mother. Unless… Eleanor glanced at Iona once more, and she wondered if her daughter would be interested in reciprocating sweet Iona's crush for her. It would certainly explain her lack of interest in being matched with anyone. But it seemed that her daughter does not return the maid's interest, or is oblivious to it, so what is wrong with the girl? Does she like men, or not? But Eleanor supposed that no matter who her daughter chooses to be with, she just wants her happiness.
Lady Landra had interrupted her dear friend's musings on her daughter. "I think, perhaps, I shall go and rest now, my dear," she embraced the teyrna and pecked her on the cheek, a display of friendship. "Dairren, I shall see you and Iona at supper," she faced toward Elissa with a friendly smile. "Good evening, your ladyship," she said.
"Good evening, Lady Landra," replied Elissa.
"Perhaps Iona and I shall retire to the study for now," Dairren said to his mother as she took her leave of the small gathering. When the young man bid his goodbyes to both Couslands and did the same, Iona flashed the younger Cousland a shy little smile before following, glancing back at the warrior as she left. Elissa caught the glance and gave the elf a small wave, just wondering why she was looking at her like that. Probably just being friendly, she supposed.
Now it was just the pair of them now. Eleanor flashed her daughter another smile. "I trust that your father told you that he wishes for you to remain here, my dear?" she asked brushing an errant lock of hair away from her daughter's face. "You haven't sulked at him, have you? I know how much you were looking forward to the trip."
Of course she has. "Maybe a little," she answered simply.
"I thought so," she smiled at her daughter. "You shall see Denerim again soon enough, I am sure."
"Have you seen Fergus?" Elissa asked. "I'm supposed to say my goodbyes."
"If he's not already with his men, I imaging that he'll be with Oriana and my grandson," answered the teyrna. Elissa nodded, "I'd better go, then," she was about to take leave of her mother, when Eleanor's hand holding her own had stopped her. She looked at her mother questioningly. "I love you, dear girl," the teyrna said suddenly. "You know that don't you?" Though as sudden as the words were, no one could miss the motherly love radiating from her eyes. Elissa wondered just what brought that on. Of course she knows her mother loves her, it was as plain as day. She gave a short laugh. "I love you too, mother," she said smiling. "But I'm hardly a girl any longer!"
"Indeed!" the laughter shone through Eleanor's golden voice. "I turn my back and here you are, a fine woman in her own right." She looked upon her daughter with pride. Despite her daughter's lack of interest in the finer arts, Eleanor Cousland was of the opinion that nobody else had as fine a daughter as she. She looks on her, and sees nothing but a bright future ahead of her. The teyrna smiled as her daughter pressed her lips upon her forehead. "I need to go now, mother," Elissa said. "Why don't you employ your prowess as a 'battle maiden' and rescue father from Arl Howe?"
The Cousland women shared a laugh before the younger one had taken her leave. Her daughter has a point; her husband does need to be saved from that horrible man, Rendon Howe – even if he is Howe's friend. Eleanor wondered – not for the first time – just what Bryce sees in the man. Still, it is time to rescue him from Arl Howe, like her daughter suggested, although she would try a more softer approach than her…'prowess'.
"I don't want to go, papa!" whined little Oren with tears in his eyes. "I don't want to go to Dennim!"
"Hush now, Oren!" said Oriana trying to calm her crying son. They were in their chambers preparing for Fergus to make the journey ahead of them, when an upset Oren had burst in declaring that he did not want to go to Denerim. It had taken almost every effort and solution they know as parents, but none of them seemed to have worked, little Oren is determined to remain at the castle.
"It's pronounced 'Denerim', son, and it's not that bad," said Fergus, on one knee and stroking the boy's back, "and we'll be back in Highever in a few days.
"I don't want to see that stupid dead king!" declared Oren childishly, stomping one foot against the floor.
"Oren!" admonished his mother. "That is the king you are speaking of. Show some respect."
"Look, maybe we should leave him with his aunt, Oriana," suggested Fergus, his tone suggesting that Oren's temper tantrum might just be all part of some kind of demented plan of his, though Oriana seemed not to have noticed. "She is staying at the castle, after all."
"Is someone speaking about me?" asked Elissa, entering the chambers, knocking. She spied the little boy crying. "Hey, Oren," she said, concerned for her nephew. She took one knee before continuing. "What's the matter?" she asked him.
"He doesn't want to go to Denerim," her brother answered for him. Elissa smiled at the crying boy. "Hey, I wanted to go to Denerim, but your grandfather wants me to stay!" Elissa wiped some of the tears from her nephews face, though new ones threaten to spill from his eyes. "You want to keep me company?" she asks him, and then glanced between her brother and sister-in-law, "if that's alright with you two, of course?"
"Of course that's alright, sis," answered Fergus, all too quickly. Oriana glanced at her husband as if she had finally cottoned on to what his plan might have been. The Antivan woman had a fairly solid idea as to what her husband was thinking, as what flashed in his eye for a brief moment might have confirmed it. Such a shame that it's not going to work out as well as he thinks. "He really should come with us –"
"I'm not going!" yelled the little boy. "I want to stay with Auntie Elissa!"
"But…" continued Oren's mother, before she was so rudely interrupted, "seeing as he is determined to stay, then yes, he shall stay." Before Oren – and his father, although covertly – could express his joy at such news, Oriana continued. "And I shall remain with him," Oriana informed her husband. "Wait, what?" said Fergus, and Oriana had to stifle the great amount of smugness she felt as she saw the brief look on her husband's face, as if his plans have come crashing down and crumbled into dust.
"A child needs his mother, after all," she said, a sliver of smugness spilled out from her voice. "And I am sure that your sister would appreciate the company." A tiny smirk graced her attractive face.
"Alright, I am missing something here, aren't I?" said Elissa, confused.
"No, no," answered her brother quickly. "Nothing wrong here, is there, my love?"
"Nope," his wife dryly answered her sister-in-law, still smirking at her husband. "Why would there be, Elissa?"
"Auntie?" inquired little Oren, wiping the tears from his eyes. "What's 'alone time'? Is it when you have to be sent in the corner 'cause you're naughty?"
"Yeah, it is," answered Elissa, wondering just what prompted such a question. Oren hasn't been naughty, has he? "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I told papa I wanted to stay, and papa said he wanted some alone time with mama in Denerim, and he asked me to help him." Elissa looked at her brother with a cheeky look in her eye. Her brother, at least, had the decency to look shamefaced at his son's explanation. Fergus, she thought with a grin, you sly dog. And was this why Oren wanted to stay here? Shame on you for using your son like that! And on a time like the king's funeral, too. "Ah. I see," began Elissa, grinning at her nephew and ruffling his hair, "well, young man, your father certainly needs some time…alone… in Denerim," she almost succeeded in stifling the laugh threatening to emerge from her mouth. Almost.
"And of that, I wholeheartedly agree," Oriana replied, sharing a smirk with her sister-in-law.
"'Wholeheartedly agree' about what, dear?" asked Eleanor as she entered the chamber with her husband.
"Fergus thought it was a good idea to gain some 'alone time' with Oriana in Denerim," explained Elissa, enjoying her brother's discomfort, his hand palming his face. She was sure that she heard her brother mumble something along the lines of 'Maker, kill me now…' "And he has enlisted young Oren's services in helping him toward that goal."
Elissa heard a groan coming from behind her mother. She moved her head to the side, watching her father place palm in face just like her brother has. "Father!" she exclaimed, knowing exactly just he was thinking of. He was not thinking that his son had used trickery in order to enjoy a child-free stay somewhere and engage in intimacy with his wife, but that at some point in his life, Teyrn Bryce Cousland tried the very same thing with her mother. Like father, like son, Elissa supposed.
"Maybe this is not the sort of thing for little ears to hear," Oriana, ever the voice of reason, has suggested. Elissa nodded in agreement before ruffling the child's hair again. "Hey, Oren, Ser Gilmore is giving Dogmeat a bath," Oren's face lit up after hearing that, knowing automatically just how funny it was to watch the large hound resist every move made to even get soapy, "if you hurry, they might still be at it!"
Oren was out of those chambers like a lightning bolt.
And now that they were free of child's ears, the three Cousland women looked upon the head of the family, each with differing emotions. One was unsure she should even hear this, one was silently enjoying the drama of it all, and one did not find any of this amusing, at all.
"I, uh," Teyrn Bryce Cousland could speak in front of the king, and the entire Ferelden nobility, he could speak with foreign dignitaries and Chantry sisters of rank, but to be in the same room with his wife, daughter, and daughter-in-law, on a subject such as this, he found it difficult to find the words. "Roughly twenty years ago, I-"
His daughter saved him the embarrassment, Maker bless her soul. "Stop!" she said, the gestures she made speaking louder than her words. "I'm stopping you at 'roughly twenty years ago'. I don't need to listen to this!" She had that distinct feeling that this was one of those things that, when heard, could never be unheard. Bryce breathed a sigh of relief, though from the look of his wife and daughter-in law, said relief might just be temporary. "Err," the teyrn said, trying to choose between drawing out his relief and getting it over and done with, "at any rate, pup. Maybe it is best for you to turn in early, tonight. You have a busy few days ahead of you."
"Getting sent to bed early, are we?" as embarrassed as he felt right now, Fergus could not help teasing his sister. Elissa caught the smirk on his face and decided to wipe it away. "Goodbye, dear big brother. Enjoy your 'alone time' in Denerim," she retorted sweetly, successful in her task to wipe the smirk clean from her brother's face. Bryce turned to his son, "and you, Fergus," he began, "you need make your arrangements to leave for the capital, immediately."
"Yes, father, of course," Fergus couldn't get out of there quick enough.
"And I think I shall go rescue Roderick from my dog before turning in," said Elissa before taking her own leave, "I'll make sure Oren goes to bed, too." Before she left earshot of her parents and sister-in-law, she had heard her mother ask her father about 'twenty years ago'. "Maker, please kill me now," Elissa heard her father groan.
In the hours following the events of the day, night had fallen, and Elissa was sleeping peacefully in her chambers. Peacefully, at least, until Dogmeat had suddenly started barking. The young Cousland jerked awake at the sound of her dog, she sat up from her bed, groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before seeing Dogmeat standing by the door, barking angrily. "Dogmeat?" she said tiredly. She had never seen her dog so angry before, he looked like he wanted to kill somebody if not for the door blocking his path. "What's the matter, boy?" Something must be wrong. Dogmeat seemed to ignore his mistress; instead, he was still intent on the door, his barks now becoming frantic. Elissa slipped out of her bed and walked over to her dog. Elissa hadn't even taken two steps before the door suddenly burst open and a man charged in her chamber.
"Milady!" the man cried. It was one of the servants, Elissa had seen. "Milady, please! You must help! The castle is under att-"
The servant's words were cut short by the crossbow bolt exiting his chest. He coughed up blood before collapsing to the floor, dead. Dogmeat barked angrily before charging the man's attacker. As Elissa reached for the sword by her bed, she could hear a man's screams amidst her dog's snarls. She unsheathed her sword as she exited her chambers, in time to see one man – a soldier - ready to plunge his sword into her faithful hound. She moved automatically, her training taking over her entire body, now ready to fight. She blocked the soldier's lunge for her dog, flicked his sword aside and swung for his throat. The spray of blood was hot on her face and her nightgown, her eyes widened at the thought that she had just killed a man. She looked down at this dead soldier – this dead man, and then looked at the blood on her sword – on her hands – this was the first man Elissa Cousland had ever killed…and she did it without a second thought. Of course, she had been trained – and trained well – in the art of taking life, but training for it and actually doing it were two completely different things, and not that she realised that she had just done it...
She didn't like it.
Elissa snapped out of it just as she heard the snapping of bone and the sickly wet sound of flesh being torn. She turned to see her dog – her sweet, friendly, loyal dog, who wouldn't harm a human being without a command from his mistress – quite easily tear the other soldier's throat out with his teeth. Elissa knew that Dogmeat was a trained war dog, a trained killer – just like me, Elissa thought – but to see the trained killer at work…it was brutal, to say the least.
Dear Maker, was all Elissa could think at this moment.
Elissa heard a door being unbarred and opening, and she automatically readied her sword for another fight, ready to kill anyone else wanting to harm her. Dogmeat raised his bloody snout to face this new assailant, growling viciously as he prepared to lunge for a new throat. Both of them had stopped when they realised that it was just Elissa's mother.
"Darling!" Eleanor exclaimed, both worry and relief that her daughter was still alive were clearly etched on the older woman's face. She embraced her daughter, unmindful of the blood covering her. When the teyrna had drawn back and saw the blood, she feared the worst. "You're bleeding!"
"No it…" Elissa turned to see her handiwork once more, "it's not my blood."
"Thank the Maker," Eleanor embraced her daughter again, so very thankful to the maker that her beloved daughter was unharmed and also very thankful that her daughter's training had played a part in it. Had her baby girl not been like every other noble daughter – as uninterested in the sword as they – Eleanor feared that she might have lost Elissa this night. "I heard fighting outside and I feared the worst."
"I'm fine, mother," Elissa was just as happy to see her mother unharmed. She left her mother's arms and inspected the soldier's corpses. "Have you seen your father? He didn't come to bed," her mother asked as she searched. "No, I was in my room," Elissa answered. "But we'll find him." Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when looking at them, though something did catch her eye when she saw the shield one of them was carrying. She did not notice it at first – she was more concerned with protecting Dogmeat's life – but she was horrified at what she saw emblazoned on this shield. Elissa grasped the shield from the dead soldier and shown her mother the face of the shield. She saw the look of shock emerge from her mother's face as she saw the emblem painted on, an indication of whose man these two soldiers belonged to.
The bear of Amaranthine, sigil of the Howe family.
"Th-these are Howe's men!" Eleanor could not believe it. Rendon Howe was a close friend of her husband, why would he possibly betray him like this? Beyond Eleanor's disbelief grew an intense rage for the arl of Amaranthine, and an equally intense desire to introduce him to a Cousland blade. "That bastard!" she snarled. "I'll cut his treacherous throat myself!"
"Agreed," growled her daughter, and then a thought occurred to her. What if Howe's men went into Fergus' chambers first? Andraste's mercy, Elissa thought as she glanced at the door, "Oren and Oriana…" she said, fearing the worst.
The two women watched the door to Fergus' and Oriana's chambers open. Out emerged one of Howe's men, sporting scratch marks on his face, wearing no armour – and in fact was shirtless, too – and fumbling with his breeches. He had finished tying his belt when he took notice of the sword coming straight for him. The man went down easily, a gaping stab wound where his heart lies. "Oriana?" Elissa called into the chambers, fearful of the worst. She entered slowly, not wanting to see what might lie ahead. Her worst fears were confirmed. Inside the chambers laid the bodies of her nephew and sister-in-law.
"Oh no…no… Not these two!" It was Oriana that Elissa had seen first, laying on the bed in an awkward position. Judging from the Howe soldier's state of undress as he emerged from the door, and the torn rags which was her sister-in-law's nightgown, she could tell that Oriana was violated in the worst manner. Maker guide you to Him, Oriana, she prayed as she rearranged Oriana's body into a more comfortable position, she then closed her dead eyes and kissed her on her swiftly cooling cheek. Soon after, she had seen her nephew's body. Elissa knelt down at her little Oren, had seen the gaping wound covering his tiny head, and she could determine precisely what would have caused such a wound. The bloodstained axe lying on the floor confirmed it. Elissa sobbed in despair, she couldn't stop the flow of tears pouring from her eyes, nor did she want to. He was just a little boy! An innocent little boy! Why would Howe do this?!
Eleanor entered the room shortly after and had taken the sight of her grandson. "No!" she knelt beside her daughter and took Oren in her arms. "My little Oren!" Eleanor hugged the little body to her tightly, sobbing as the rage overtook her. "What manner of fiends slaughters innocents?!"
Elissa took Oren from her mother's arms and laid him beside Oriana, ruffling what was left of his hair for the last time as her tears flowed. She looked upon the bodies of her beloved nephew and sister-in-law, one of her closest friends, and she felt the flames of vengeance spark in her eyes. Howe isn't even taking prisoners. He means to slaughter every one of Elissa's family, just as he did her beloved Oren and Oriana. "I'll make him pay," she snarled dangerously, her anger blazing like an inferno. "If it's the last thing I do in this world, I will make Howe pay for this!"
"Let's go," her mother sobbed, pulling her daughter from the chambers. "Let's get dressed and find your father, I don't want to see this."
Neither of them did. Instead both women returned to their respective chambers and hastily dressed. It had only taken Elissa a few minutes to throw something on, before she rejoined her mother and Dogmeat. The next few minutes were a red haze for Elissa. She, her mother and the dog hastily walked through the corridors of Castle Cousland, cutting down any and all of Howe's men stupid enough to get in their way. They aided her father's men, whenever and wherever they could, until they had neared the Cousland family vault. "Darling, wait," Eleanor stopped her daughter, who was covered in the blood of her enemies, they all were. The teyrna saw the unasked question in her daughter's eyes: 'why have we stopped?' "We're near the vaults," she explained.
"So?" asked her daughter, still not seeing why they stopped now, when Maker knows what happened to her father. "We need to find father!"
"I know, darling," the teyrna fished out a key from her pocket and approached the vault. "But the Cousland family sword is within this vault. Not only is it the most important thing in that vault to our family, it's also your birthright, and if anything is worth fighting to keep out of Howe's hands, it's that sword." The vault opened, and exposed the treasures of the Cousland family for all to plunder. Elissa waited almost impatiently while her mother retrieved the family sword. "Here, darling," her mother handed her the blade. It was ancient, almost as old as the Cousland family itself. It was forged in the days of King Calenhad, when her ancestor Elethea wielded it in the Silver Knight's service as he united all of Ferelden, four centuries ago. And it was as sharp as it was the day it was made. As Elissa grasped the ancient blade, she caressed with her fingers the sigil of her family, the laurel wreath of Highever, and it was then that Elissa had understood exactly why they had to stop, exactly what it was her mother had bestowed upon her. It was her birthright, her family's history and legacy, and something far too precious to be usurped along with the rest of Highever. And as precious as this sword was to her family, Elissa instinctively knew of another use for it.
This will be the blade which ends Rendon Howe's life.
The teyrna nodded in approval as her daughter strapped the family sword to her back. She wears it well, she thought with pride. That sword was meant for her. "If Howe's men are already inside," she finally said, "they must already have control of the castle." Elissa nodded in agreement. "We must find your father, and afterwards we must use the servant's exits in the larder to escape."
What? Elissa couldn't believe what she had just heard. Escape? What about killing Howe?! Elissa took a step back, "I want Howe dead!" she yelled at her mother, who took a step forward and placed her hands across her daughter's shoulders, calmly yet sternly. "Then survive," she told her daughter firmly, "and visit vengeance upon him. Now, we find your father, and escape through the servant's exits. Do you hear me?" Elissa reluctantly nodded. "I hear you," she said, deciding to grab a coin purse of gold sovereigns from the treasury. Something tells her that they would be in need of them since they are escaping. "Let's go," Eleanor nodded to her daughter. The following minutes passed just as it had before the swift detour to the vault. The small group cut down any and all who tried to kill them, until they were suddenly in the great hall of Castle Cousland.
"Go! Man the gates!" Ser Roderick Gilmore commanded his men as they scrambles to gather every table, bench, chair and anything else they could use to barricade the main doors to the hall. "Keep those bastards out as long as you can!"
As the Cousland soldiers did as their commander ordered, Ser Gilmore caught sight of his mistresses. "My ladies, you're both alive!" despite everything else, Ser Gilmore was overjoyed to see the Cousland women safe and sound. "I was certain Howe's men got through."
"They did get through," replied Elissa. Howe, that treacherous bastard.
Gilmore shook his head, and then gestured to his men barricading the door. "When I realised what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the doors. But it won't keep Howe's men out for long. If you have another way out of the castle, use it quickly."
"We need to find my father, have you seen him?"
"When I last saw the teyrn, he was badly wounded. I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards the kitchen; I believe he thought to find you at the servant's exits in the larder."
"Bless you, Ser Gilmore," said Eleanor, feeling humbled at this young knight's loyalty. "Maker watch over you."
"Maker watch over us all," replied the knight as Elissa hugged him tightly. Ser Gilmore hugged back, just as tightly before he broke away and joined his men. Elissa knew that this might be the last time she would see her friend alive, and she too was humbled that he would lay down his life for her and her family. She will look forward to the day when she would repay such loyalty. The journey to the kitchens was, thankfully, a short one, one in which the group went by largely unmolested. Finally, they were at the kitchens. Eleanor had opened the door to the larder, when she saw her husband doubled over, and bleeding profusely from the stab wound in his side.
"Bryce!" the teyrna ran to her husband's side, Elissa joining them as she gasped. "Father!"
"Th-there you both a-are," said the teyrn weakly. He has lost a lot of blood. Dogmeat could smell the strong scent of it everywhere here. The Mabari barked sadly as the teyrn continued. "I w-was wondering when you g-get here."
"Maker's blood, what happened to you? You're bleeding!" cried Eleanor.
"Howe s-stabbed me," answered her husband before he coughed up some blood. "I was sure he'd done me in r-right then and there."
"We need to get you out of here father," Elissa moved to lift her father on his feet, but the teyrn shook his head. "I'm…I'm afraid I won't survive the standing, pup."
"That's not true! You'll be fine!"
"Ah…my darling girl," Bryce was so proud of his daughter, for trying to save him, even against all the odds. Like a Cousland should, and she was the greatest pride of those who came before her, that much he knew. But… "If only will could make it so."
"Then I'll carry you, myself!"
Eleanor wanted – needed – so much for her husband to get up on his feet an escape with them. She never wanted to see him fade away in a pit like this. "Once Howe's men breach the doors they will find us. We must go!"
The teyrn nodded in agreement. They must go. "Eleanor…Elissa. Y-you must go to Denerim. You have to warn Fergus, warn the q-queen of Howe's treachery. Tell them w-what has happened!"
"Bryce, no!" cried Eleanor, tears flowing from her eyes, unwilling to watch her husband go like this. She pointed toward the servant's exits. "The servant's passage is just that way. We'll find you healing magic!"
"The castle is s-surrounded. I c-cannot make it."
And then in that moment, Teyrna Eleanor Cousland had made her decision. A decision which would ensure her daughter's survival, if she went to escape now. "Darling," she began, looking at her daughter, "you and your hound must escape the castle on your own. I shall stay with your father and buy you the time to flee. Go to Denerim and warn your brother."
To stay here in this larder would mean certain death for the both of them. Elissa was going to be damned if her mother thinks she is just going to leave them here. She would rather face the might of Howe's army here than escape alone. "What?! No! I won't let you stay here and die! Either of you!"
"Eleanor…" Bryce looked up at his wife. "Are you s-sure?"
The teyrna affectionately stroked the side of her husband's face. "Hush, Bryce," Eleanor, said smiling at her husband, as if her final actions in this world shall be done without any regrets if it meant that their daughter would survive. Elissa's survival was infinitely more important to her than her own. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy our daughter time. But I will not leave you."
The teyrn nodded reluctantly. His wife was a stubborn one, sometimes. There was no convincing his beloved otherwise once she had decided a course of action. That must be where Elissa gets it from. He just wished she was a little less stubborn this night, if it meant that she would live to see another day. The teyrn felt tears fall from his face as he gazed upon his beautiful daughter. This was the last time they would see her again...and it had to be like this. "Pup," he began, his words spoken with more clarity than ever before in his life. "Pup…my little pup. Do as your mother says."
"No!" Elissa said with tears in her eyes. "I'm not leaving until you both leave with me!" Dogmeat barked in agreement. The teyrn chuckled mirthlessly; she definitely gets it from her mother! His darling girl… Bryce used what little strength he had left to cup his daughter's face affectionately. He took notice of his daughter's new ownership of the Cousland family sword, and smiled weakly. "That sword suits you, pup," he said. "Live, and be worthy of it."
There was no way of convincing either of them to leave with her and Dogmeat. They were prepared to die, for her. She didn't want them to die for her. She didn't want them to die at all! But they want her to live, to live and exact vengeance on the man who betrayed them, who butchered their family like animals. It was all clear to her now, what she had to do. The most important thing of all was to ensure that Arl Rendon Howe does not profit from his treachery. If not, then he would surely make up any story he pleased to justify all of this, and would very likely sully their names – their family name – forever in the process. He would most likely name their family traitors to Ferelden in front of the queen, and the Cousland name would forever be blackened for reasons it did not deserve. That cannot happen. That will not happen. She is a Cousland, and Couslands always did their duty, even in the face of hardship, and the duty before her was clear as crystal. Elissa grasped the hand which cupped her face, and pressed her lips against her father's palm. "I swear, father," she said, the emotion was choking her words. "I swear I shall relieve Howe of his head. My word as a Cousland."
"Then go, pup! Warn your brother, and know that we love you both. You do us proud."
Elissa hugged her parents for the last time before she made her way to the servant's exits, with Dogmeat following her. "I love you both, so much," were her final words to them as she disappeared through the door. Bryce shuddered in despair as his wife embraced him. He was getting weaker by the minute; he knew that he was going to die here, in this larder…and he was at peace with that. Bryce Cousland had learned how to die during the rebellion against Orlais…it was one of those things a man had to learn in those days…but the idea of his Eleanor, his battle maiden – his beloved wife of many decades – dying here with him… "I'm so sorry it has come to this, my love."
"We had a good life," Eleanor said, stroking her husband's hair. "We did all we could. It's up to our children, now." Maker damn it all! This was not how it was meant to be! He was supposed to die many decades from now, in peace and surrounded by his wife and children…his grandchildren, were he blessed with more than his little Oren. And when he finally passed, his son would have led their teyrnir as he and those who came before him have since before there was even a Ferelden. And Elissa…his dear Elissa. For all her warrior's training, his daughter deserved nothing but a life of peace, and happiness. She deserved a life of love, and family. But now she goes off, to survive this night, and the trials before her will not be easy. But she will live, she will overcome whatever trials await her, and she will make her mark on the world.
End Chapter Three.
Author's Note: Well, here we go. Chapter three is done! Finally, I say! This is quite possibly one of the longest chapters I will ever write of anything, though I write this just knowing that I'll probably one-up myself at some point, I just know it. :P That being said, I felt very uncomfortable when I had written the scene where Elissa discovered Oriana's and Oren's bodies. My intention was to make their ends as brutal as they were senseless, at least in Elissa's and Eleanor's eyes, and I daresay I succeeded in that, as much as I do find it pretty sickening, personally (though I suppose I should be worried if I ever write something like that again and not feel uncomfortable doing so).
But despite that one scene, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Hopefully it depicted what I intended, one final glimpse of happiness for Elissa (at least for a while), right before it was painfully snatched away from her by one Arl Rendon Howe. The scene where Elissa kills her first man was possibly my favourite scene to write. Now, having never killed anyone myself, I have zero idea as to what it actually feels like. But I hope that her reaction to killing him was…if not accurate, then at least close to it.
Anyway, I shall probably not be working on more of this for a week or so while I work on the next chapter of my other story: Mass Effect: Those Left Behind. I'll probably alternate between chapters now, unless inspiration strikes me at any point, of course.
Before I go, I would like to thank The Dalish, KyleK12, and ironyismylife for choosing to follow my story, thanks much! ^_^