Chapter 3: A Gray Offer

They were summoned to the main hall to meet a mysterious visitor. Elissa and Gwendolyn. Yin and yang. Pure opposites.

Gwendolyn had been in the castle Chantry when she was summoned, reviewing the Chant for a history lesson she would give to the young squires.

She was 25 years old, and a Chantry sister of Highever. As her parents foretold since her childhood, she took her vows after her 21st birthday. Albeit reluctantly, she complied and said her vows in confidence.

Gwen had given up hope and resigned to this life of chastity and faith...mostly. She had never been a good Andrastian in the first place. In more secrecy than ever, she continued to vent her frustrations in the forest. This sharpened her senses, combat and perception. It was an addiction truly, but an extremely dangerous addiction she could not get rid of. If anyone of note found out, then she'd be burned at the stake for heresy; crimes against humanity.

Gwen questioned her own sanity often, but no one else could tell for she shielded that crazy look in her eyes well.

Elissa had not ended up marrying Garrick, they were engaged for a time, but that ended quickly once word of the Wulff's dismal state of affairs got out. No, Eleanor would not tie her precious daughter to a lecher who could not provide her, or their house, anything. Of course Gwen had been angry when they tossed him aside, but then she remembered her anger towards the Wulffs at rejecting her.

Gwen had become very good at lying, or so she thought. So when she was summoned to the throne room, she held a stone cold face; showing no hint of surprise or curiosity. No, she would not give her family any leverage over her emotions.

"Ah!" Bryce Cousland looked over at the approaching pair. He had been in conversation with Arl Howe, "There you are!" He motioned for them to join him.

"Howe, you remember my two daughters. Elissa and Gwendolyn," Bryce looked fondly upon Elissa, she was his golden child.

"Of course," Arl Rendon Howe's gaze turned to Elissa, "And might I say what a fine young woman you've become. I am pleased to see you again."

"And you," Elissa blushed and curtsied, lifting her yellow dress just enough so the floor didn't soil its beauty.

"Is your family here with you, Arl Howe?" Gwendolyn asked. She was curious if Nathaniel was there, and if she would need to avoid him.

"No, they're back in Amaranthine, safely away from the fighting," He told her curtly, as though her question was barely worth her time. He turned to Elissa once again, "My son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him next time."

"Thomas is quite a bit younger than I am. How is Nathaniel?" Elissa diverted the topic from Thomas. Howe had been trying to persuade her for years to consider a future marriage between the two.

"He is well, but no longer in Fereldan. He's living in the Free Marches."

"Oh," Elissa eyebrows shot up, probably wondering what he was doing there. Did he forget about her already?

Bryce interjected, quickly changing the topic, "I almost forgot to mention we have a special guest at Highever. A Grey Warden has come to look for possible recruits,"

Howe's mask of indifference slipped for just a moment, a moment for Gwendolyn to notice it and no one else. On the outside he seemed mildly surprised and intrigued, but Gwendolyn saw what he felt on the inside: anger and annoyance.

Now why would Howe be annoyed by the visit of a Grey Warden? Wardens are highly respected individuals, especially in times of a Blight.

"Duncan!" Bryce turned to his left, "There's our man now!"

Duncan was an older man, about the same age as Bryce, possibly younger. He looked like he hadn't slept in many moons, and his posture bowed from exhaustion. His dark long hair was swept up into a ponytail and he sported a neatly trimmed beard. Even still, the effects from his long journey were apparent.

"I must say again, thank you for your warm hospitality. It's been very welcoming. These are your daughters I take it?" He asked, addressing the rest of the room except Arl Howe.

"Yes, Elissa and Gwendolyn Cousland. Elissa has become a fine lady of the court and hopes to marry soon. Gwendolyn is a member of our Chantry, she teaches the younger children of the castle."

"The Chantry you say?" Duncan asked Bryce for confirmation.

When Duncan had entered the room his gaze was drawn to Gwendolyn first. There was something about her aura that he found familiar. Her eyes scanned the room, and studied the faces of those around her. She was perceptive, he could tell that.

The second thing he noticed was the tendency of her hands. They always stayed close to her sides or her waist. Exactly where a sword or dagger might go.

She was no ordinary Chantry sister. He wondered if her family knew that, because he could tell just by taking one look at her.

"Yes, she took her vows about...four winters ago," Bryce paused, he did not often think of his other daughter Gwendolyn.

Arl Howe did not like being excluded from a conversation, he believed it was ignorant and rude of the Warden to not address him. He would not be further humiliated, "Ahem," he cleared his throat, "My sincerest apologies Teryn, on the delay of my men. Hopefully they will be here soon, but for now I shall retire."

Bryce nodded in Howe's direction as he quickly left the main hall.

"If I might be so bold as to suggest that your daughter would be a good candidate," Bryce's attention was immediately diverted back to the Warden.

Bryce stood protectively in front of Elissa, "This is my daughter we're talking about here. I'd not see all my children off to battle."

Duncan's eyes lingered om Gwen, the daughter he originally meant, but spoke nothing more of the matter.

Something in Gwendolyn clicked.

He knows what I am. No one, not a single idiot in this court could see. And yet to him I was like a window, so open and vulnerable. She cursed inwardly, she hated being transparent. He had read her like she was a book, all her secrets spilled onto a yellowed paper page.

Her eyes narrowed at him, so he wanted her join the ranks of the Grey Warden's did he? Was the blight truly that awful that he'd suggest bringing a Chantry sister into the Order?

IXI

After she and Elissa had been dismissed she returned to her duties. She began copying excerpts from the Chant onto scrolls. The feathered pen tapped softly against the glass of the ink jar.

She heard someone approaching; she heard the clink of armor and swords and the rustle of his clothes, "Duncan, what brings you here?" She asked, without looking up from her work.

"Earlier, you knew I spoke of recruiting you and not your sister. What I wish to know is how your skills have escaped the notice of your parents and siblings alike," He laughed, "You have great talent, I can see that."

Gwen suddenly felt a ball of bitterness choke around her throat. She closed her eyes and inhaled a sharp breath, the pen had already found its place in its holder, "Talent? Skill?" she scoffed, "I have none of that. You are mistaken, you assume you know exactly who I am but you know nothing. I am no warrior...not fit for life or death battles."

Instead of taking offense to her outburst he...smiled,"You're right I don't know who you are or what you've gone though. But what I do know is that the Blight calls on all of us, and you can help us. I know it," he stepped closer using grand gestures, "And that! That spirit there! You have shown you have bravery, and a drive to live."

Gwen was truly taken aback, no one had believed in her before, not since Garrick...but that was years ago.

If only he knew how I had acquired these "skills". I doubt he'd want me in the Order then.

She looked around the room, seeing if there were any potential eavesdroppers. "I can hunt, and track. And I know how to handle a sword, a dagger, and a bow. But...I implore you...do not ask how I've learned this, all I feel obligated to tell you is that it comes from experience."

Duncan did not seemed deterred by this in fact he seemed more pleased, "So you can fight?"

"Yes, but I've never fought a human..." Gwen wondered if she had already given away too much.

"That's fine, you won't be fighting humans, you'll be fighting darkspawn."

"You make it sound as though I've already agreed." She commented, slightly irritated at how he successfully convinced her.

"But you already have, haven't you?" He said in an all knowing tone.

"Maker, how I hate you..." Gwendolyn groaned under her breath.

IXI

Gwendolyn laid awake in her bed that night contemplating Duncan's offer. The more she thought about it the more she liked it.

It was natural for Gwen to distrust people and their ideas at first. She wondered if the Maker had not given up on her yet, and maybe this was her true chance at freedom. Then again, she was a sister. How much closer could she get to the Maker? Making her leave the Chantry didn't seem like what a divine would want.

She thought back to the man that had saved her life all those years ago. She had been very pious and patient after that. But it only lasted for so long.

Built up depression and resentment were stronger than she realized and subtly crept into her everyday thoughts. And yet never again did she think of killing herself or hurting herself. Instead she did quite the opposite. She was self-serving, cold, like many of the Orlesian nobles she had heard about.

Still, she believed the Maker had a plan for her. And some small part of her refused to believe that plan was wasting away her life in a Chantry. That small part agreed to join the Order. That small part of her made one of the biggest decisions of her life.

She inhaled deeply, tossing and turning. All of these thoughts were preventing her from sleeping. It must already be the middle of the night...

Her hands itched and twitched, she knew what she had to do to get some sleep.

Her addiction called her out of her bed, dressed her in armor, and revealed her secret stash of weapons under her bed.

She chose a few sharp daggers and her trusty oak longbow. Arming herself comfortably, she made her way to the door. She paused just inches of turning the knob. She could have sworn she heard screaming in the distance, but maybe that was just her nightmares invading her reality.

She shook her head and fully turned the doorknob. The next scream was closer... and much more real. She had yet to open the door, fear held her there.

So many thoughts entered her brain, yet no words of any language were among those thoughts. The door knob started to turn, Gwen yanked her hand off of it like it was fire for she was not the one who turned it. She jumped behind the door just in time. A dark figure entered the room, it was hard to tell but she could see he was dressed in leather armor, bearing the shield crest of...Arl Howe?

That bastard! I should have known this was coming... Gwendolyn barely suppressed a snarl as she unsheathed her dagger and snuck up behind the man.

She then realized that if she killed him, she would truly descend into madness. She had never attacked another human before, and certainly never murdered another person.

Then her survival voice drowned out her morals, if she didn't kill him now he'd realize she was there. Then she would be dead. Sorry but...living matters more than morals right now. She silently raised her arm and slid her dagger coolly across his throat. The blood spilled onto her hand, running down her arm.

A strange feeling of nothingness engulfed Gwen, she didn't feel any sickness or nausea. No overwhelming crippling guilt.

I just killed a man...and I don't even care...what have I become?

She quickly shook these thoughts from her head; Highever was under attack. She could think about how horrible a person she was later.

She exited her chambers to find rooms filled with people mascaraed. The bodies of children, woman, and men alike lay slain, mangled on the floor in their own blood.

Things had been set ablaze in the chaos. Many possible escape routes were blocked. Gwen suddenly recalled her earlier days of adventuring and exploring the castle. There was a secret way out the castle, through the kitchen larder. If she could make it there, then she'd have a chance at surviving this bloody night.

IXI

Gwendolyn did not find the kitchen larder empty. There lay, right before her eyes, her "loving" parents. Teryna Eleanor held her husband in her arms, not willing to let go. Bryce would die soon, there was no mistaking that. His silk shirt was stained red with his blood, which seeped onto the floor from under him.

Gwendolyn was not sure what to feel, should she feel sad to see her parents in such a state? Or should she feel indifferent; their treatment of her bore no love.

Eleanor looked up, her eyes bloodshot and filled with tears, "Gwendolyn..."

The simple weakness her displayed voice filled Gwen with emotions she had not felt for Eleanor before. This vulnerable and broken side of her proud mother made Gwen feel...empathy?

"Gwendolyn..." Eleanor said through choked sobs, "There's something I must tell you..."

Gwen knelt down by her mother, "What is it?" she had a concerned look on her face.

Eleanor's gaze broke from Gwen to the door, where Duncan emerged from.

"You. Grey Warden. You must...," Her voice strained, "must help Gwendolyn leave this place alive. She's..." Eleanor looked back to Gwen, taking in deep breaths.

"What I have to say is not easy. But you deserve to know. We do not hate you but...Gwen...you are not our child..." Eleanor looked in desperation at Gwen who had yet to react, "I'm so sorry. For all the ways we've treated you but...it was necessary."

Gwen was speechless, her entire life...a lie. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Eleanor was not her mother, Bryce was not her father, Elissa not her sister...Fergus not a brother...

"If this were ever come to light...we couldn't have you being the heir to any of our assets. We couldn't allow ourselves to get close to you and accept you as our daughter, lest the truth be revealed. After a while it became easier...then natural. There was not another way to treat you then what we had been. We were...used to it." Eleanor's admission left her ashamed and embarrassed. She knew that her reason was no excuse for the cruel life that Gwen had had.

"...you neglected me all those years...gave my only chance at a normal life away...all because you were afraid? Because you were used to treating me like dirt?" She spat disgusted.

"Everything we did was for the good of our family,"

"Your family... you cruel horrible people." Any empathy she had felt for Eleanor had been crushed and turned into anger.

She wanted to leave this place. Leave it all behind.

She glared at her "parents" with such an intense hatred that Eleanor thought she'd kill them. Instead she threw herself at the door and down the secret passage.

Gwendolyn left Eleanor without another word or second glance, she left them to die. In her mind they deserved whatever fate they got.

Gwendolyn knew the passage well and didn't wait for Duncan to catch up, she reached the end of it in no time. Only when the cool night air entered her lungs did she finally calm.

Her back slid against the cobblestone of the exit, until her body hit the ground. She collapsed onto the dewy grass, her soul was crushed.

Without warning the tears came, she sobbed and cried and the stabbing feeling of pain racked her chest until she couldn't breathe.

Who am I anymore?

Duncan followed the sound of her sorrow easily, he only worried that Howe's men might hear it too.

Fortunately he found her unscathed, physically at least. He cries had stopped as she had passed out. Her scrawny body sprawled across the dirt. Duncan sighed, this would be a long journey.

He dutifully pulled her into his arms and carried her. She was a thin light bundle; all that anger and sadness weighed her down when she was awake. But when she was asleep...her face was calm peaceful. Something quite uncharacteristic for Gwendolyn.

He prayed to the Maker she'd pass her joining, or else he'd be walking this girl from one deathly situation to the next.

They were Fereldan's last hope. Duncan imagined Gwen would have a hard time accepting that.

He looked upon her face once more, a tiny plain moth had landed on the tip of her nose. It seemed to look up at him with some semblance of meaning. Then, it flapped its wings gently and calmly, before fluttering away into the vast forest.