Author's Note: This chapter was technically published already; however, I decided I wanted to do something different with a certain scenario. People who have read this already will notice the difference, which I will not point out here so as to keep from spoiling the story for newcomers. After the first part, the rest of the chapter is the same, so if people have read it already, feel free to skip the rest. I don't know whether those who reviewed Chapter 5 already will be able to submit a new review or not. If you have any thoughts, please, PM me!
Chapter 5 – A Traitor in Our Midst
Aileen F. Cousland
Aileen felt as though she had only just closed her eyes when Richter's barking awoke her.
"Richter," Aileen whined, "be quiet." She pulled her pillow from under her head and placed it on her face.
Richter kept barking madly. He jumped onto Aileen's bed—
"Ow!" Aileen screeched. Richter jumped off just as quickly as he had jumped on. She threw the covers off and glanced toward the window. "It's still dark outside! First the kitchen, and now this?!"
Richter stood ready at Aileen's door. The two of them heard a scream from across the hall, and Richter growled menacingly. What… was… that? Aileen was stumbling around her bed, still barely awake, when the door suddenly flew open. Aileen screamed and jumped back, but Richter was hit by the door. He rolled over and fell limp.
"Richter!" Aileen cried. She barely noticed that an arrow had whizzed by just shy of her ear, and that another man was racing toward her with daggers drawn. She was frozen in shock, and one of the daggers slashed across her left cheek, drawing blood. Richter got to his feet and shook his head a couple times, and he charged toward the dagger-wielding man. The man smirked and kicked Richter out of the room, and he grabbed a paralysed Aileen and slammed her into the door, shutting it and keeping Richter from reentering. She screamed again.
"Please, please!" she cried.
The man who had maneouvred Aileen into a vulnerable position chuckled – a low and evil sound. "Please, what?" he taunted.
Aileen recognised that voice… but the man was too close for her eyes to focus on his face. "Please…" Don't rape me, was all she could think. She knew it was a terrible thing to think, but her well-being was the only thing on her mind. Please, don't hurt me, pleasedon'thurtmedon'thurtmedon'thurtme.
"Rape you?"
Did I say that out loud?
"Oh, no, I would never touch a Cousland like that." He snorted. "I don't know why anyone ever would."
When she realised he was not going to cut her throat, (at least, not right at this moment,) the initial trauma began to wear off and Aileen started to piece the bits of information together. She knew she recognised this man's voice. She knew he was insulting her due to her surname. She also knew she had caught a glimpse of some sort of animal-crest on the arm of this man. A… lion? No. A bear, perhaps?
A bear.
Aileen's eyes snapped open.
"Thomas Howe."
He smirked. "So, finally able to think, are we?"
She heard Richter barking outside. She also heard the sounds of battle and fire burning. "What are you doing?" Aileen demanded.
"I don't think you're in a position to demand anything of me," Thomas growled. He dug his arm into Aileen for emphasis, and held his dagger up to the laceration on her cheek. He pressed the blade against the wound, drawing more blood, and Aileen screamed again. Tears rolled down her cheeks and they stung the open flesh.
"Now, that's better," said Thomas. His arm pressed a little harder. "Tell me where your father is," he snarled.
"I don't know!"
"That's a lie!" He yelled. Thomas moved his arm farther up and pushed against her throat. Aileen gasped for air. "TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"
Aileen clutched at his arm and tried desperately to claw at his flesh; but since Thomas was wearing armour, her efforts were in vain. Why is he doing this? Why does he need Father? Where is Mother? What happened to Richter? Oren, Oriana?! The questions zipped through her mind as she put every effort into trying to loosen Thomas's arm from her throat. Her vision was becoming fuzzy from the tears and lack of oxygen. Think, Aileen, think!
"Of course you should know that I'm the one who broke your door yesterday," said Thomas. "I wanted it to be easy to get in here. Your mutt gave me quite the scare, though. I was worried—"
Oh, Richter, I'm so sorry…
"—two and two together. Fortunately, you never did. And now—"
Think, think! Your arms are free…
"—rid of you and your miserable family for good." He laughed humourlessly.
You're a warrior, Aileen! You're stronger than Thomas.
Aileen felt consciousness slipping away from her. "Wait," she choked through gritted teeth.
"Hmm?" Thomas loosened his arm only slightly.
She gasped and choked on the newfound air. "Please, I'll—tell you where Father is." Aileen lightly pulled on Thomas's arm.
"Oh, no. Clearly, you can talk just like this. Spit it out."
Maker, please, let him believe me… "He'll be with the vault," she lied, "—southern part of the castle."
"Is it guarded?" Thomas pressed.
"Most—likely."
"Hmm." Thomas kept his arm against her throat, but he finally lowered the blade from her cheek. "Father said—"
Aileen quickly changed the position of her hands and pushed Thomas's arm as hard as she could—he was not expecting her to do that, and his arm flew back and hit his nose, breaking it. Thomas dropped his daggers and grasped his nose, and Aileen took the opportunity to pull his shoulders down and knee him in the stomach. Thomas stood up and threw a punch. His fist caught Aileen on her face and she heard a distinct CRACK come from her right cheekbone. Aileen resisted the dizziness threatening to overtake her and saw that Thomas had retrieved his daggers. He slashed down with one and Aileen dodged it; he cut across with the other, and since Aileen could not back away, she blocked his arm with her own, and she threw an uppercut with her free hand. The blow connected with Thomas's jaw, and he stumbled, releasing one of his daggers. Aileen scrambled for the free blade and felt sharp metal slice across her forearm. She cried out in pain and blocked Thomas's incoming blow—Thomas gasped suddenly and froze. Aileen looked down…
"Andraste's blood!" she whispered when she saw the dagger which now resided in Thomas's gut. Aileen's hands began shaking. She let go of the dagger's pommel and backed away quickly before she tripped and fell on her bum. She watched as Thomas's face contorted from shock to pain, from pain to anger, and back to pain. He fell to his knees, dropped the dagger he had been holding, and grabbed the hilt of the weapon inside his body.
"No, don't!" Aileen screeched. "You'll bleed out!"
Thomas stared wide-eyed at the Cousland girl before letting himself fall down on his back.
"Oh, no… no no no no no no!" Aileen crawled over to Thomas. "Please, no! I did not—I didn't…"
"Aileen! Aileen, where are you?"
Aileen did not respond. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Her door flew open seconds later, and Eleanor and Richter entered. The hound growled at Thomas.
"Maker's breath!" Eleanor exclaimed. She stared in shock at the sight before her – Thomas severely injured, and Aileen in a state of near-panic.
"Aileen!" Eleanor waved her hand in front her daughter's face and snapped to get her attention. "Aileen, can you hear me?"
Aileen nodded. "Yes," she replied with a shaky voice.
Eleanor grabbed Aileen's hands. "This can't all be your blood!"
Aileen looked down. The blood gushing out of her arm was her own, but the blood on her hands was Thomas's. Eleanor touched her daughter's bloody cheek, and Aileen withdrew in pain. Eleanor stood and rapidly began fumbling through her daughter's furniture. She retrieved a small balm and quickly began applying it to Aileen's face.
"Ow!"
"Hold still!" Eleanor chided. "Head wounds bleed the worst, and we cannot have you losing this much blood. Where else?"
Aileen rolled back the sleeve of her nightgown so the cut on her forearm was visible. Eleanor applied the balm there, as well.
Aileen took a deep breath. "Mother?"
"Yes?"
"Is he… going to be all right?"
Eleanor looked at Thomas and scoffed. "That is not important."
"But he could die!"
Eleanor sighed. "And suddenly war is not so exciting, is it?"
Aileen's eyebrows drew together. "How…?"
"Bryce told me, of course."
Aileen took a deep breath. It took another moment to realise that Eleanor was wearing leather armour and that she had a longbow slung on her back.
"Do you know where Bryce is?" Eleanor asked. "He never came to bed."
"No, but I have a feeling he will be in the main hall or near the servants' exit." Suddenly, Aileen gasped. "Howe's men were delayed on purpose!" she exclaimed. "Why are they doing this?"
Eleanor pointed to the boy on the floor. "Ask him."
Aileen gazed at Thomas, who seemed to be drifting away from consciousness. She swallowed. "Are Oren and Oriana—"
"I have not checked yet."
"Then let's go," said Aileen. She quickly threw off her bloody nightclothes, heedless of the boy in her room, and took only a fraction of a second to decide to wear her chainmail instead of her leather armour… Maker knew she would need protection tonight.
"I'm going to check on them," Eleanor said when Aileen was nearly dressed.
"Richter, go with her."
Richter barked his reply to Aileen, and he ran off after Eleanor. After Aileen had assembled her armour, she glanced in the mirror, and gasped. My face… she thought, in vanity. She heard a wail from across the hall.
Oh, no… "Mother?!" Aileen snatched her greatsword and glanced at the unconscious Thomas once more before she dashed out of her room. Please, please be okay. The smoke from the fire stung her eyes, and the air felt hot and dry.
"No, no!" Eleanor cried. "Poor Fergus!"
Aileen found a grisly sight inside, and tears spilled from her eyes. Oriana's throat had been slit and her abdomen had been slashed open; Oren looked as though a sword had been run straight through him. Neither of them was moving. That was the scream I heard, Aileen 's sorrow transformed into rage. All these Howes are the same, she thought.
"Maker's breath!" someone exclaimed, and it was not Eleanor.
Aileen turned around and saw that Neria was standing there, staff in hand. Her robes were torn in several places and she had blood and dirt smeared on her sweaty face.
"Mother, let's go," Aileen said, pulling on her mother's arm. Eleanor had been kneeling, weeping, and she stood up.
"What manner of fiend slaughters innocents?!" Eleanor asked with a sob.
"Wait a moment!" Neria said, stepping into the room.
"For what?!" Aileen snapped. She glared at Neria.
"The boy…" said Neria. She pushed past Aileen and knelt down next to Oren. She placed her hands over him and a bluish, sort-of-lavender light emanated from her hands. After an agonizing minute, Oren breathed and coughed, but he did not wake up. Neria stood, but stumbled and nearly fell over. She looked exhausted.
"Oh, thank the Maker!" Eleanor said. She knelt again and took Oren in her arms.
"Oriana…?" Aileen asked, hoping Neria could do the same for her. She noticed that fresh blood had trailed down from Neria's nose.
Neria shook her head. "She is too far gone. The boy was only… mostly dead, I suppose you could say. His… spirit still lingered here."
Aileen nodded slowly. And Oriana's did not, she thought, finishing was Neria did not was breathing but his eyes were not open. "Thank you," Aileen said, "for saving him."
Neria nodded. "We have to get moving. Duncan sent me to get you and said we should head to the main hall as soon as possible."
"Who will carry Oren, then?" Aileen asked quickly. "Mother?"
"I will," Neria offered. "You two fight." She held out her arms and Eleanor reluctantly lifted Oren into them. Once Oren was situated on Neria's hip and his arms were around her neck, she said, "Let's go, and fast!"
Aileen nodded and turned around. Time to teach these bastards a lesson, she thought, drawing her weapon. "I'll lead; Neria, you stay in the back; Mother, watch both our backs; Richter, stay with me. We need to get to the servants' exit." Eleanor nodded, Richter barked, and they set off.
What Aileen had not realised was that the smoke in the air was the least of her worries – the fires causing it seemed to be everywhere. Nearly every piece of furniture and tapestry had been set aflame, and several passages – including the direct route to the servants' exit – were blocked off. Aileen felt a sob threatening to escape at the sight of her burning home, but she choked it back and pressed on. They had to fight our way through the castle: Howe's men were everywhere. Richter and Eleanor handled most of the archers, while Aileen fought the swordsmen. The chainmail had been a good idea, as Aileen could only really receive bruises unless a blade or arrow landed in a vulnerable spot; and she managed to keep her face from receiving further damage. The cut she already had would be a nasty scar eventually. There goes my flawless skin. Aileen had counted six Cousland soldiers that were dead. That means there are only fourteen left, if they still live, she thought. Stupid me, deciding twenty men would be enough.
"Wait!" Eleanor said at one point. "The vault! We cannot let Howe get his hands on the family blade!"
"Does that really matter in a time like this?!" Neria asked. She had to yell over the roaring fire and sounds of battle. She adjusted Oren on her hip and glanced between the two Cousland women.
"Yes, it does," Aileen snapped without a second of thought. "Do you have the key?" she asked her mother.
Eleanor nodded. They turned down the hall leading to the vault and saw that the men who had been guarding the vault were dead; and although the vault door showed signs of attempts to break it open, it remained intact. Clearly, Thomas himself did not come down here, Aileen thought, or he would have known I was lying. Eleanor used the key she had and Aileen grabbed both the family blade and shield. She sheathed the former in the scabbard on her belt and strapped the latter to her back.
When they finally made it to the main hall, chaos resided within. Many men – both Cousland and Howe – lied dead; and Eleanor and Aileen immediately threw themselves into the battle. Aileen noticed that some Cousland men were bathed in a blue-purple light temporarily, and that a few Howe men were surrounded in a same-coloured field that seemed to paralyse them. The ladies' reinforcement turned the tide of battle in their favour; and at last, the Howe soldiers were defeated. There were nine men, including Ser Gilmore, one of the knights, left standing after the battle. Duncan and Ser Jory were also here. Both of them were bleeding heavily, and Neria carried the unconscious Oren with her as she went to them.
"Close those doors, and bar them!" Ser Gilmore yelled. "Barricade them! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!" He looked close to collapsing, but he stood straight and turned to the Cousland ladies. "I'm so relieved you're all right," he said to them.
"And thank the Maker you're alive," said Eleanor.
"Just barely," said Ser Gilmore. He was holding his arm, trying to stop blood from flowing out. "When I realised what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the doors… but it was too late. I was worried we'd let some of Howe's men get through to you."
"They did get through," said Aileen, "or found some other way into the castle." She swallowed. "Neria helped us save Oren, but…" She did not finish the sentence.
Ser Gilmore sighed. "My ladies… I am so sorry." He rubbed his face with the back of his hand and succeeded in rubbing more blood onto it. He sighed and held onto his arm again.
"Where is Bryce?" Eleanor urgently asked. "We must find him."
Ser Gilmore winced. "The Teyrn was badly injured… He went to the servant's exit, hoping to find you there."
"I figured that was where he would be," Aileen said.
"Aileen, we must go, now," Eleanor said quickly.
"We'll stay here and try to buy you some time," Ser Gilmore said. Just as he said that, the doors shook with a large THUD.
"We can get some of you out alive, can't we?" Aileen pleaded. "They might die here. Mother!"
"This is our job," Ser Gilmore said. "You ladies and Oren are the important ones here. You have to get out with your lives."
"And… what of us?" Neria asked. She had handed Oren off to Ser Jory – she looked like she could barely stand, and Duncan was supporting her. "How are we getting out of here?"
"Neria," Duncan said softly, "we will make it out of here." He nodded to Eleanor, who was eagerly waiting for Aileen to join her. "Let's go."
"Thank you," Aileen said to Ser Gilmore. She smiled sadly at him. It is not fair for all of these people to sacrifice their lives for us, Aileen thought. She drew her sword again. "I will come back for you… all of you," she promised the Cousland soldiers. She could only hope…
Aileen led, with Richter by her side, Eleanor behind, and the injured Grey Wardens trailing. They had to carve their way through more soldiers before they reached the kitchen, and that worried Aileen. What if they entered through the servants' exit? she wondered. What if they already killed Father?
The closer they came to their destination, the more blood on the stone Aileen saw. It left a trail all the way to the servants' exit in the larder, where two of Howe's men lied dead with a bloodied, discarded sword not far from them.
"There… you are," Bryce said when they entered. He coughed repeatedly and tried to clear his throat.
"Bryce!" Eleanor cried and ran to him.
Aileen gasped when she saw her father lying in a pool of his own blood. There were some linen bandages on the floor, and Aileen could tell that Bryce had tried to tie the cloth around his middle to stop the bleeding, but had failed. Aileen knelt next to him and started wrapping the bandages around him. Please, please do not die, she thought.
"Howe's men… almost… did me in right there," said Bryce. He tried to smile and laugh, but only succeeded in coughing more… and this time, he coughed up blood. "He… can't get away with this! The king will—Ugnh!" He bent over and clutched at the wound in his side.
"I'll kill Howe for what he has done," Aileen said. Her voice was filled with hatred.
"Bryce?" Eleanor pleaded. "Bryce, honey, stand up. We have to get you out of here."
Bryce tried to smile again. "I… won't survive the standing, I think."
Aileen was trying not to notice the amount of blood in which she had knelt, and the discolour of Bryce's face, but they were impossible to ignore. "N—nonsense! You'll be fine!" Tears rolled down her cheeks. Please, please…
"Ah… my… darling girl… if only will could make it so," Bryce said sadly. "It is… too late… for me."
"No, it is not!" Aileen insisted. "Neria is… some sort of healer." She turned around. "You can save him, can't you?"
Neria shook her head slowly, regretfully. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?" Aileen asked angrily.
"Darling," said Eleanor, "if she could save Bryce, she would, wouldn't she?" She glanced at the mage.
Neria nodded weakly. "But I can't."
There was a THUD from the main hall which made the walls vibrate.
Eleanor turned to Bryce, and frantically, she said, "Once Howe's men break through the gates, they will find us! We must go."
Bryce shook his head and looked at Aileen. "You… must go. Find Fergus… tell him what has happened—" Bryce groaned loudly. "Duncan…" Bryce winced when he turned his head. "I beg you… take my family to safety."
No! Aileen screamed internally.
"I'm not leaving without you, Bryce!" Eleanor cried, but it seemed as though Bryce barely heard her.
Duncan approached, still supporting a weak Neria. "I will, your Lordship, but… I fear I must ask something in return."
"Anything!" said Bryce.
"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose on this world," said Duncan. "I came to your castle seeking recruits, and the darkspawn threat demands I leave with as many as possible."
Bryce turned his gaze to his daughter. "I… understand," he said.
Aileen's face contorted in shock. "Wait a moment! Are you talking about me? But—But what about Fergus? And Howe?! He must pay for what he has done!"
"The king will see justice done," Duncan replied. "But Grey Wardens must face darkspawn above all else, even revenge." He looked back at Bryce. "I will take your family to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the king what has happened. Then, your daughter joins the Grey Wardens."
"So long as justice comes to Howe… I agree." Bryce groaned again. He had lost so much blood…
"No, no! Do I not have a say in this?!" Aileen begged.
"Listen, Pup," Bryce said. The nickname immediately caught Aileen's attention. "You are"—he coughed some more blood—"a Cousland. We… are Couslands… and we do what must be done. The darkspawn must be defeated. You must go… for your own sake… and for Ferelden's."
"No, I will not leave you here!"
"Darling," said Eleanor, "go with Duncan. You have a better chance of escape without me."
"No!" Aileen cried.
"Eleanor—"
"Hush, Bryce." Eleanor caressed her ailing husband's face. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But I won't abandon you."
"No, Mother!" Aileen almost screeched. "You cannot sacrifice yourself like this!"
Eleanor smiled sadly. "My place is with your father. At his side, to death and beyond."
Bryce groaned. "Then go, Aileen. Warn your brother… and know that we both love you. You do us proud."
Tears blurred Aileen vision. "No, no, please!"
There was a loud CRASH which came from the main hall, and lots of shouting. Richter started barking.
"They've broken through the gates," Duncan said. "We must go, now." He grabbed Aileen's arm.
"Mother… I'm so sorry," Aileen sobbed as Duncan forced her to her feet.
"I know," said Eleanor, looking at Aileen. "It is forgiven." She made eye contact with Duncan and pointed to the exit. "Now go."
"I love you both!" Aileen cried as Duncan dragged her away.
Once they had made it outside, Aileen saw that, compared to the castle, the coast looked calm and peaceful.
"Where do we go?" Duncan asked. He scanned the horizon and looked from left to right. He looked at Aileen, who did not speak.
"I think there's some alleys we should be able to get through without trouble," said Ser Jory after a moment. Aileen noted that it was the first he had spoken all night… or morning… whatever it was, and probably only because she had not said anything.
"You… are correct," said Aileen. "Let me have Oren." She wondered how he had remained unconscious through all this, and thought that perhaps Neria had cast some sort of spell to keep him asleep on purpose. "You lead, Ser Jory." As she was struggling to keep from openly weeping, Aileen knew she was in no condition to lead them to safety.
Ser Jory nodded. "We'll have to get around the castle, first," he said, and carefully helped Aileen situate Oren so she could carry him easily.
"Head west," said Aileen. "The gates are on the east side… and we cannot go that way. After that, the alleys of which you speak shouldn't be too far south."
"Aye, my lady."
Their progress was slow; for not only did they have to check every street the alleys crossed to make certain that they did not run into Howe's men, but they also were burdened. Oren felt as though he were gaining weight by the minute; Neria was barely able to stand; and Ser Jory was favouring his left leg. What I would give for a horse, right now, thought Aileen. A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse… though my kingdom is not worth much, now.
Miraculously, the five of them were able to make it to the edge of Highever without running into any of Howe's soldiers.
"Where to now?" Ser Jory asked.
"South and west, I suppose," said Aileen.
"Hmm," Duncan sounded. "Ostagar is south and east of here, but heading east right now is not an option."
"We could head to Lake Calenhad," Neria offered. "There's an inn on the north side, and we could take a boat south to Redcliffe… didn't you say you needed to stop there, Duncan?"
"I did," the Rivaini man replied.
Aileen adjusted her nephew in her arms. "Would Arl Eamon be willing to watch Oren, do you think?"
Duncan nodded. "We certainly can't have him at Ostagar."
"Then let us be off," said Aileen. With no horses, this will be a long journey…
Author's Note: First off… *sigh* I did not enjoy writing this chapter. I cried a little bit writing this… but I have also been going through some really hard stuff at home. And so… sad chapter plus sad life equals sad Blondie.
Second, I made a terrible error in the Prologue and in Chapter 4 of this fan fiction. For some reason, I was under the impression that Amaranthine was west of Highever, which would make it closer to Orlais… but Amaranthine is, in fact, east of Highever and just north of Denerim. So… all that to say, if there were trade between Orlais and Ferelden, it would transpire in Highever, not Amaranthine. Please excuse my mistake.
Third, sorry for the Princess Bride and Shakespeare's Richard III quotes. I couldn't help myself.
Fourth, it will be some time before the next chapter is published. There is an important one-shot that will accompany this fic, called, Always the Lesser Man, which I need to write before I put out the next chapter. If you have not added me to your Author Alert list, please do, so you won't miss that one-shot!
Fifth, I want to thank alyssacousland, CouslandSpitFire, Graymalkyn, Melysande, and Taikee for their continued reviews and support. Thank you, also, to everyone who has followed and/or favorited this fic. I appreciate it more than you know!
