Ana follows sister Gabrielle through the door and up the stairs to a small corridor. "You look like you've had quite the journey." Gabrielle says, leading her towards one of the doors. "While you get settled in, I'll fetch you some water to wash and a dry sleeping gown." She smiles. "Can't have you sleep in your soaked gown, now can we?"
Ana remains stone faced as she shakes her head. Gabrielle's smile falls as she stops near the door and pushes it open. Using her candle to lead the way, she enters the room and lights the candle beside the small bedside table before turning to face Ana. "There. Make yourself comfortable. I shall be right back."
As Gabrielle heads towards the door, she stops as she hears her name being called from inside the room. "Yes?" She asks, turning to face the young woman. Looking out of place with the simple furnishings, Ana stands awkwardly beside the bed, still hugging her family's equipment to her chest.
"When you return, could you help me with my dress? It laces in the back."
Gabrielle's smile returns as she nods. "Of course." Turning on her heel she leaves the room.
Finally alone, Ana feels the tears forming as she looks around the tiny room. There's not much furniture save a small bed, fireplace, two small tables and an alter containing a small statuette of Andraste, engulfed in flames. Staring at the statuette, Ana feels her legs buckle beneath her before she sinks to her knees before it. The weight of her situation begins to weigh heavily on her as she hugs the shield and sword tightly to her chest, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Andraste preserve me." She whispers. "I am not strong enough for this."
She kneels before the statuette for quite a while, her head bent as she weeps, until she hears a light rap on the door. Brushing away her tears, she stands and composes herself. "Come in." She calls.
The door opens and Gabrielle scampers in carrying a bucket of water with a yellowed nightgown draped over her shoulder. She mutters something Ana is unable to make out while she pours the water in the basin sitting atop one of the small tables in the corner of the room. "There!" She smiles, setting the empty bucket on the floor. She turns to face Ana and takes out a rag from the pocket of her robes, holding it out to her. "Here. You may wash your face and hands while I unlace your dress."
With a brisk nod, Ana takes the rag and walks over to the basin. She washes as Gabrielle unlaces the back of her dress with surprising quickness. Gabrielle helps her out of her wet dress and nightgown before helping her into the clean one. The material is much cheaper than she was used to and she noticed a few yellowed stains which she hoped wasn't urine. She grimaces. Following her disgusted gaze, Gabrielle's face reddens. "It's clean, I swear it!" She says. "It was washed just today. Those stains are from tea."
Ana remains quiet as she wraps her arms around her to warm herself in the small drafty room. She shivers and Gabrielle's brows rise. "Oh!" She quickly scurries to the fireplace and begins busying herself while another knock sounds. Ana sits on the lumpy bed, moving around to find a comfortable position, wrinkling her nose at the slight mold smell coming from the greying blanket. "Come in." She calls, attempting to cover herself as she sees Duncan enter. The nightgown is fairly thin and does little to conceal how cold she is. Her face flushes but she doesn't look away as his gaze falls on her.
"Good." He says, his eyes never straying from hers. "I'm glad to see you were able to find something dry to sleep in." As Gabrielle stands, she mutters something to Ana. She eyes Duncan curiously before excusing herself and leaving them. Once the door shuts behind her, Duncan motions towards the fireplace. "While we sleep, we'll leave our wet clothes near the fire to dry. With luck, they will be almost fully dry by the time we are ready to leave."
Ana nods. "What room will you be staying in?" She asks. "Hopefully one nearby if I need you?"
He shakes his head. "I'll be sleeping in here with you." Noticing his charge's reproachful expression, he offers her a smile. "Do not fret, child. I mean you no harm. Given the circumstances, I am here for protection. I pose you no danger."
"But there's only one bed." She says carefully, her eyes narrowing.
"I will be sleeping on the floor."
She reluctantly accepts this with a nod, still feeling self-conscious due to her near nakedness. "Very well. It seems I have no choice."
It takes Ana awhile to sleep. She tosses and turns on the lumpy mattress as images of her slain family, servants and people she's known all her life plague her mind. How she wished it was just some nightmare. She whimpers in her sleep just as she's shaken awake. Groggy from sleep, she looks up at the blurred figure before her and her heart begins to pound.
"Ana." Duncan's voice hisses from the somewhere nearby. The fire seemed to have died out, leaving the only light coming from the long, thin windows at the top of the wall. By the looks of the amount of light coming through, it has to be just barely past dawn. "I need you to get dressed, quickly."
Her eyes widen as she sits up, holding the scratchy wool blanket to her chest to cover herself even though it's still too dark to see anything. "What? What's happening?"
Duncan shushes her as she hears his boots clank against the stone floor towards the fireplace. In moments, he returns towards her and feels him lay some things – presumably her dress, nightgown and cloak— on the bed over her legs. "Please hurry." He says. "We need to leave immediately."
Gripping the woolen blanket, her hands shake. "But my dress!" She whispers. "I can't lace it on my own. I need Sister Gabrielle!"
She hears him sigh. "We don't have time for that, my lady." He says, his tone gentle yet urgent. "I will lace your dress but we need to hurry."
Shifting so her bare calves hang over the side of the bed, she covers herself. "I need to change my nightgown…"
"I will turn away and guard the door." He says, walking towards the door. "Just tell me when you need my assistance with your laces."
"But—"
"I'm sorry, Lady Ana, but I cannot just leave the room." He says firmly, aware of her objections. "I will explain what's happening once we leave Barnston. Sister Gabrielle is awaiting us out back with our mount."
Her eyes adjust enough to see that he is indeed turned away and pulls away the blanket. The chill in the room grips at her and she shivers. Her feet touch the cold stone as she shoots a glance back at Duncan's armored back before stripping off the stained nightgown and pulling on her own, the still slightly damp fabric making her give a small yelp in surprise.
"Is everything alright?" Duncan whispers, remaining where he is.
"Yes." She says indignantly, embarrassed at the noise she involuntarily made. "One moment." As quickly as she's able, she pulls on her dress. Like her nightgown, it's still a little damp which does nothing to help the chill that has already enveloped her from the cold room and her damp nightgown. She pulls on the soft leather shoes she managed to put on before leaving her room with her mother and Ser Gilmore, grimacing at how wet and muddy they still were from the night before. Her cheeks redden as she glances at Duncan. "I need your help." She says, trying to sound authoritative regardless of her vulnerable state and failing.
Turning, Duncan nods and comes to stand behind her. Her breath catches as she feels his hands, rough and warm graze her back, the heat of his hands seeping through the thin material of her nightgown. It was strange to say the least to have a man, whom she only just met the night before, behind her and interacting in such an intimate nature. He was only lacing her dress but, in her entire life, there was never a man present when she was dressing for the day. Even her father and brother made sure to wait until she was properly dressed before entering her quarters. The thought of her family filled her with grief once more and she felt lightheaded and short of breath in attempt to keep the thoughts at bay.
"Lady Ana?" Duncan's voice softly asks from behind her.
Steeling herself, she takes a deep breath. "Is it done?"
She feels a tug behind her before he walks around. "It is." He nods, motioning to the chair off to the side, her cloak draped over it from when it faced the fire to dry. "Put on your cloak, quickly."
Doing as she's told. She throws it around her and fumbles with the clasp before looking up to see Duncan peek out the door. She frowns. "Is there somebody out there?" She asks, fear constricting her throat.
He shakes his head and turn to her, looking her over before nodding. "Good. Let's go."
She starts to leave before her eyes widen. "Wait!" She looks around, her heart quickening as she sees no sign of her family's sword and shield.
"Don't worry." He says opening the door and peering out. "Your sword and shield are safely packed away on our horse. We'll need to ride quickly and I'll need you to hold on which will be too difficult if you are holding them as well." He peers out once more before motioning to her. "Come on."
She exits the room and begins down the hall in the direction that they came before she feels him grab her arm. "There's a small passage that leads towards the back. It's much quicker."
Following Duncan, they quickly make their way through the small passage through one of the rooms and come out near the small garden out back. Duncan quickly scans the area before guiding her with a hand on her shoulder. There's a small chill in the air as the sun has barely begun to crest over the horizon, casting everything in a dim, blue light. Taking a small trail that leads down to a small creek, they see Sister Gabrielle standing with their horse, saddlebags and a couple bedrolls strapped to the saddle. Duncan gives a low whistle and she turns to greet them. "There you are, child!" She breathes seeing Ana.
Anxious to get going, Duncan swings up into the saddle as Sister Gabrielle says her final goodbyes to a terrified looking Ana. Once she scurries back up the path toward the chantry, Duncan offers his hand which Ana hesitantly accepts. "Hold on tight." He says as he pulls her into the saddle behind him. "I would not want you to topple off while we are riding."
Once she grabs hold of him, he digs his heels into the horse's flank and they set off. Following the creek, they intersect with the North Road and continue south west.
"We're not taking the North Road?" Ana asks, nervously looking back towards the direction they came.
"No. It's likely that Howe's men will be patrolling it." Duncan calls over his shoulder. Near mid-day, the temperature had improved by the time they stopped alongside a ford. Dismounting, Duncan holds a hand out to his young companion. She takes it and he helps her down before taking the reins and leading their horse over towards the water, Ana trailing along by his side.
"We're away from Barnston now." She says. "Are you going to tell me why we're in such a hurry?"
Duncan sighs. "While you were sleeping, I went out to the market to buy some supplies needed for the journey back to Ostagar." He begins. He removes the saddlebags and allows the horse to drink while he motions for her to sit along the bank. He sits and watches her as she puts her cloak on the ground before sitting.
"What market was open that early?" Ana asks, wrinkling her nose as she examines the mud that had caked onto her shoes.
"There were a few stalls." He gives a dismissive wave. He reaches into one of the sacks from the chantry and pulls out a couple hardened biscuits. "Either way, I overheard some people speaking. Not many people were around when we arrived at such a late hour but those who were, took notice."
Taking one of the biscuits held out to her, she sneers at it. "So? I'm sure places like Barnston get many late-night visitors." She sniffs the biscuit before grimacing and placing it in her lap. "I don't see the big deal."
"Forgive me for saying so, My Lady" Duncan says, offering her a half smile. "But I'm sure none of their usual visitors look like you."
Looking down at the pathetic roll in her lap, she feels her cheeks redden. "What do you mean?" She asks. Her heart beats excitedly as she tries to conceal the smile that is beginning to form. Noticing her reaction, he chuckles to himself.
"I think you know what I mean." He smiles as her cheeks redden even more. Maker's breath. Get ahold of yourself, Duncan! She's a beautiful young woman but she just lost her family and home. This is neither the time nor place to flirt! He clears his throat. "I just mean, your dress is very well made and expensive. Only a woman of noble birth could afford such things. We have no idea where Howe's men are currently and seeing a noblewoman wandering at night might set tongues wagging. In the time we were there, somebody could have reported what they seen." He notes the untouched biscuit in her lap and frowns. "You should eat, Ana." He says, gently. "We have a very long journey ahead and you'll need your strength."
She shakes her head. "I'm not hungry." She says quietly.
"I know you're in mourning for your family," Duncan says softly. "but you also need to take care of yourself. You need to eat."
Looking down at the biscuit, her stomach knots up. She looks up at him, her electric blue eyes meeting his dark, almost black ones. "I still don't understand why this is happening." She says, her voice tinged with emotion. "Arl Howe was my father's closest and dearest friend! Why would he do this?"
His eyes searched hers for a long moment, as though the answer was written within her bright blue irises. Finally, he shrugs. "I wish I knew, My Lady." He frowns. "Only the Maker can truly know and understand the wickedness in a man's heart."
Once Duncan finishes his food, he returns the saddlebags to the saddle while Ana quietly brushes herself off and puts her cloak back on.
After three days of avoiding roads and making no more than two stops a day, they make camp within Ashbark Forest near the southern stretch of the Hafer River. Ana sits off to the side, watching Duncan as he coaxes the fire with a stick. She hears him mutter an occasional curse before she speaks. "Duncan?"
He doesn't look up. "Hm?"
"The Grey Wardens are renown for being talented warriors, correct?"
He nods. "They are."
"As honored as I am that you want to recruit me, I must respectfully decline." She says. "I have very little skill in wielding any weapon, let alone a sword."
His eyes flick up to meet hers, his gaze dark. "We've been over this, Ana. We can teach you how to fight. We have a training area back at Ostagar."
"Yes but—" She begins to argue but stops as she sees his glare.
"I promised your father that you will become a Warden so that I can protect you." Sighing, his expression softens. "As close as you are to the crown, you won't be safe. As a Warden, I can train and protect you from any people who wish to use you. Until you join, my protection is limited."
She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest like a defiant child. "That's not fair." She whines. "I never even got a say in the matter!"
Duncan opens his mouth to argue with her but closes it, figuring there's no use. After all, she did have a point. As her father lay dying in front of her, she was promised to an order which she voiced she didn't want to be a part of.
Irritated by his silence, she speaks up once more after a few minutes.
"Okay, let's say I go through with becoming a Warden," she says, indignantly. "What does it entail? Is there a ceremony or something?" In her mind, she saw something similar to a knighting ceremony.
"Somewhat." He replies, choosing his words carefully. "You must go through a joining."
"A joining?" She says with a derisive snort. "How original. Let me guess, we must swear an oath upon the chant of light to uphold all the values of the Wardens and destroy the blight. Am I right?"
He stops what he's doing but doesn't look up. Instead, he stares at the small wisps of flames beginning to lick at the sticks and twigs. "There is a ceremony and once you are finished, your old life is over."
Her smirk falls. "Over? Like, I can't return to my former station?"
The fire had already begun to double in size as he rises. "I won't lie to you, Ana." He says, turning so his gaze meets hers. His solemn, distanced expression makes her blood run cold. "It's unlikely."
Pulling her knees in toward her chest, she buries her face in her arms as she feels the tears well up in her eyes. Duncan watched her, guilt gripping at his heart. He wanted to tell her what the joining actually entails and how there's a risk of not surviving it, but there was a reason they kept it all a secret. Poor girl. He thought, watching her sympathetically. She has already been through so much.
He tried to think of something to lift her spirits and he recalled a question that he had had burning at the back of his mind since Highever. He clears his throat. "May I ask you a question, my lady?"
She lifts her head, her eyes red and puffy from crying. With a sniff, she wipes her eyes and raises her chin. "I guess."
He grins. Even as miserable as she is, she still knows how to carry herself as a noblewoman. "I'm curious about Ser Gilmore."
She raises a brow. "What about him?"
Don't just ask if they're sleeping together. Lead into it. Duncan clears his throat as he cuts a small incision in the pelt of the rabbit he caught earlier. "You seem to know him pretty well."
"I do." She says, choosing her words carefully. "We grew up together. He joined our household as a boy and, after being knighted by my father, he was assigned as my personal guard."
So, they grew up together. Makes sense for them to grow close since they spent much of their lives together. Once old enough, I bet being her personal guard was one way to be alone with her and experiment as youths tend to do. Duncan nods. "I see. How fortunate. He seems like a very capable lad."
Ana's eyes narrow. "He is. He's a very experienced soldier. He's ridden out with my father a couple times."
"I imagine that being your personal guard, you two are quite close." As he says this, he watches her expression as she bows her head. She traces the silver embroidery on her sleeves, her mouth turned downward.
"We are." She says thoughtfully. Suddenly she looks up, her eyes almost glowing in the dimmed light that barely penetrates the thick canopy overhead. For a moment, he's caught off guard by the intensity of her stare. It takes a moment for the surprise to fade, her gaze drawing him in. She has the bright blue Cousland eyes like Bryce had. Maker… Aside from her beauty itself, it's no wonder she's admired. One would think she was a mage with the way her eyes almost glow in the darkness. "I won't insult your intelligence, Ser." She says, passively. "I will not beat around the bush. I know what you're trying to ask and, since it no longer matters, I will tell you. I love Roderick with all my heart and I pray to the Maker that we will be reunited at Ostagar."
Duncan smiles. "Forgive me for all the questions, my lady. I did not want to offend you by asking directly."
She frowns, her electric blue eyes filled with sadness. "Had circumstances been different, I would have denied it. Not because I'm ashamed but because, as a noblewoman, I'm supposed to be married for alliances to lords of equal or higher rank, not knights from small towns like Rory." She shrugs.
While he just wanted to know if the lad he met with her was her lover, his curiosity was now whetted. Until he heard their heartfelt goodbyes before they fled, he did not expect her to take a lover with a lower social standing. She's so proud and strongminded, he figured she'd be enticing princes and kings rather than having a dalliance with a knight in her father's household. "Did your father know about you and Ser Gilmore?" He asks, lying the skinned pelt off to the side.
She shakes her head. "No. Roderick was going to speak with him about us though." She smiles faintly. "He wanted to ask him for my hand." Her smile drops and he watches as she looks down, her face contorting as though in pain as her lower lip trembles. "Now that's no longer possible. My father is…" Putting her face in her hands, he hears her quiet sobs. As he watches her, he wants very much to hold her and tell her everything is going to be alright, even if he knows that her future is unknown. She peeks up at him and her blush spreads across her cheeks before she buries her face in her arms, embarrassed.
They don't speak again until a little while later once the rabbit has been cooked. Ana had seemed to cry until she no longer could, turned away to try and veil her shame. While women are more than allowed to be emotional, as a Cousland, she wanted to remain strong, even if everything inside her wanted to break down. She said many prayers in her head for Fergus to have made it to Ostagar where he was safe from Howe's betrayal. She wouldn't know what to do if she lost the only family she had left.
They ate in silence for quite a while. Ana was determined to not eat, but a light breeze that floated through the area gave her a whiff of the rabbit, slowly roasting on the makeshift spit over the fire. The hard biscuit that Duncan gave her earlier was thrown out after she stood, forgetting that she had laid it in her lap, and it had fallen into the damp grass. Now her stomach grumbled, communicating its desire to be filled. She bit her lip, glancing at Duncan as he slowly turned the skewed animal over the flames. Her heart pounds as he suddenly glances at her, smiling at her surprise.
"I think it's just about ready. Would you like some?" He asks.
She glances between him and the roasted meat, debating whether she should give in. Her stomach rumbles and she places a hand on it before shrugging nonchalantly. "I suppose." She says, flippantly. "Seeing as this is the best we can get out here." Regardless of how she was acting, she was more than grateful for Duncan's quickness when he was hunting. In fact, she was rather impressed at his ability given his age. Even her father, who she assumed to be close in age with the Warden Commander, had often complained of the pains he felt on a daily basis.
Taking the meat off the fire, Ana watched as he grabbed one of the legs and tore it off with ease before holding it out to her. Tentatively she reaches for it before he pulls it back slightly. Her brows crease.
"Careful," He warns. "It's quite hot." He looks around him for a moment before motioning to one of their packs nearby. "Look in that pack. I managed to get a couple tin plates."
Eager to eat, she crawls over to the pack and rummages around in it before pulling out the plates, she holds them out to him.
"Set them down for me, please." He says, his hands full. She does as she's told and he places the meat on one of them and slides it over to her. With a muttered thanks, she picks it up and takes a deep inhale.
Duncan, who has now taken some meat for himself, sits back, smiling as he watches her tear into the meat as quickly as she can. Feeling his gaze, she looks up. Her mouth is full and some juice runs down her chin as her face reddens. Chuckling, he shoots her a reassuring smile. He's just happy she's finally eating.
Using the back of her hand, she self-consciously wipes the juice away. "There's no need to be ashamed, my lady." He grins. "Where I come from, it's expected for a woman to have a healthy appetite. For more than just food.
She swallows her food. "Oh?" She asks. "Based on your accent, I'm assuming you're referring to Rivain?"
He smiles. "I am. You have a good ear. It's been decades since I've been back home. Most people assume I'm from Ferelden."
"Most people are idiots." She retorts with a cheeky grin. Duncan laughs.
Once they finish eating, Ana rolls out her lumpy bedroll that was given to them by the chantry in Barnston. As she sleeps, Duncan stays awake to keep guard and keep the fire going as the temperature begins to drop. A couple times, he finds himself glancing over at Ana. In his mind, he tries to justify these gazes by thinking to himself that he's only doing so to ensure that she's okay but, in reality, he's a bit transfixed on how beautiful she is. The way the fire lights up her face, her expression calm. Her pouty lips are a velvety dark rouge. For a moment, he wonders about how she likes to be kissed. I wonder what noises she makes as Ser Gilmore kisses her. He muses. Does she lightly moan or give a breathy sigh as many women have when pulled into a loving embrace by their sweethearts? He shakes his head, pushing the thought from his mind before it can lead to more unclean thoughts about other parts of her young, flawless body. Turning his gaze from her, he pulls the map from his pack and rolls it out on his lap, leaning close to make out the small lettering in the firelight. Finding their location, he places a finger on it. His brows knit together in concentration. His eyes move downward. Perhaps we should head towards South Reach. He contemplates. While Arl Bryland is related to Howe by marriage, I know they rarely got along. He was always closer to Bryce. He glances at Ana's sleeping form, frowning. I hope our luck doesn't begin to run out and I'm right.