AN: Will be renamed later. Beta read by ViCeliaG13D12. I'm not super happy with the summary, DM with any advice or suggestions. Thank you to all readers and commenters.


"We reunited under King Maric, just as we unite under his son, King Cailan now." Octavia sat in a chair in front of a group of children scribbling her words down in their journals.

"Are you gonna play your lute?" One of the younger boys asked.

"Oh, I'm sor-"

"Respect. Children, this is Lady Cousland you speak to." Aldous interrupted ironically. Octavia couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but I must go meet my father. Aldous will finish the lesson with you." A collective groan came from the group of children.

Octavia felt a tug against her gown and turned her shoulders to see a round faced tot starring up at her. "Lady Cou-thlen, will you sing the lesson to-orrow?" A warmth spread through her chest as though her heart started glowing.

Octavia crouched down, pulling her dress to the side as to not trip over it, "Of course, nothing could stop me." She gently patted the girls head and stood and walked out of the room.


"At least the smell will be the same." Octavia heard her father rumble of laughter as she walked into the main hall. The closing of the heavy door catching Bryce's attention.

"I'm sorry, pup. I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my daughter?" The chalk on his daughter's hands didn't escape his eyes; he took the pocket square from his shirt and handed it to her.

"I see she's become a lovely young woman." Howe was taken aback when slender arms wrapped around him. He hesitantly hugged back. "Pleased to see you again my dear."

"Is your family here, Arl Howe?" Octavia pulled away from her uncle figure with a bright smile on her face.

"Oh no. I left them in Amaranthine, away from the fighting. My son, Thomas asked after you, perhaps I should bring with me next time."

Octavia smiled at the implication thinking he might not know. "Yes, you must bring them to the wedding."

Bryce eyed Rendon wearily, knowing full well Rendon had always wanted to merge their families, Octavia being his last hope, but his daughter is engaged, and will marry for love as he did. "Rendon, you remember my daughter's betrothed, Darrin Oswin?"

"Ah, yes. I understand he lives in the castle with you now?" Rendon smiled pleasantly. Bryce nodded unsurely. Rendon had never responded so pleasantly to his daughter rejecting Thomas, especially when she chose Nathaniel over Thomas. Howe went as far as to send his own son to the Free Marshes to try to push her towards Thomas. Of course, it did nothing but backfire when she took comfort in the Oswin boy.

"At any rate, pup," Bryce brushed off his suspicion, assuming his friend had finally moved on. "I summoned you here for a reason. While your brother and I are away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle."

Octavia grabbed her lock of her long hair and ran her hands along the length of her golden hair. "I'll do my best, Father." She couldn't promise much more.

Bryce smiled at his little girl. "That's what I like to hear." He kissed her head. "Only a token force is remaining here, and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes? There's somebody you must meet. Please show Duncan in." Bryce turned and gave the order to the guard behind him.

Octavia wasn't shocked. Whenever there was a guest in the castle, her parents entrusted their care to her, she was a very good with social scenes. What did shock Octavia was the Grey Warden symbol on the plate armor worn by the burly man.

"Your Lordship, you didn't mention a Grey Warden would be present." Rendon shifted his weight looking quite uncomfortable.

"Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?" Bryce raised a brow at his friend's strange reaction.

"Of course not," Rendon chuckled. "But a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am at a… disadvantage."

Bryce smiled turning his attention to his daughter. "We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that's true. Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope?"

"They're an order of great warriors." Octavia knew better than to tell her father what Aldous really teaches about the Grey Wardens, especially in the presence of seemingly important Grey Warden. Octavia carefully pulled each side of her dress as she bowed to him.

"They are the heroes of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all." Bryce assured his daughter, knowing full well of Brother Aldous' opinions on the heroes of legend. "Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south, I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore." Octavia beamed at the suggestion.

"That's wonderful!" Octavia clasped her hands in celebration. "Ser Gilmore would be an excellent choice!"

"I have no doubts, he seems like an excellent warrior." Duncan smiled.

"Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's request are seen to while I'm gone?" Octavia wondered how Duncan could stay for any amount of time with the upcoming battle but assured her father nonetheless she would see to it. "In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me."

Octavia griped her hair. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" She asked quietly.

Bryce pulled his daughter into a tight hug. "Your brother and I go into battle, not an afternoon tea. Who knows what will happen to us?" Octavia wrapped her arms around her father almost too tightly. "But I will tell you, however; you're my darling daughter. I love you, and I trust you and Darrin completely to carry on the Cousland name if the worst should happen." He placed a ginger kissed on her head. "But don't worry about me." He pulled away from her. "You'll have enough to occupy your mind while I'm gone."

Octavia threw her arms around Rendon as well, "You be safe too. I'd miss you." Her voice soft and sweet, he felt her arms tremble around his waist.

He stood unsure, hesitant as he wrapped his arms around her as well. "I…thank you." He breathed, "That is…quite unnecessary." Rendon squeezed her in his grip as his shifted to the side. "I…would miss you very much, dear girl."

Octavia smiled up at her favorite uncle, pulled away and left the main hall so the men can speak alone. She glided down the hall, walking past the library and waving at the children inside.

"There you are." Octavia looked behind her at the sound of Rodrick's voice.

"Ser Gilmore?"

"I apologize for my abruptness my lady, but I've been looking for you everywhere. It seems your hound has the kitchen in an uproar again. Nan is threatening to leave."

Octavia rolled her eyes. Nan always had a problem with something; the elves are too slow, the stove isn't lighting right, she's underpaid – despite her frequent raises. "She was my nanny long before she was the cook. Nan won't leave."

Ser Gilmore smiled knowingly, "Your mother disagrees. She insists you collect the dog, and quickly." They laughed slightly with each other as they walked to the kitchen

"Your mother said you were in a meeting with a Grey Warden."

"Yes, Ser Duncan. He seems kind." Octavia kept her voice nonchalant. "You know, I think he might be considering you for recruitment." Keeping the smile off her face might have been the hardest thing she'd ever have to do.

Rodrick's eyes widened. "Me? Are you sure?"

"You are impressive." Her movements captivated him. The way her she bounced down the hallway, the way her hair swayed with her elegant sauntering, he was enraptured by her every aspect. With her engagement, it might hurt less to be away from her.

He grew up in her castle, grew up next to her. Octavia never overlooked anyone, she played with the elven children, she brought muffins to the younger templars in training, she learned to play the lute to make learning fun for the kids. Everything she did made him smile.

But she was Lady Octavia Cousland. Daughter of the second most powerful family in Ferelden. And Rodrick was the son of a merchant. He always wanted to tell her how he felt, but it was inappropriate, then she was courting Nathaniel Howe, and when Nathaniel was sent away, Rodrick worked on his confidence and just nearly confessed when Darrien Owsin came to Castle Highever. And his chance burned before his eyes.

"My Lady?" Blue, curious eyes found his. "Do you… I mean, Master Oswin-"

Shouting from the kitchen interrupted him and Octavia ran to the door and swung it up to see Nan shouting at the elven servants.

"I've got this covered, you can be excused." Octavia interrupted the situation, speaking to the elves with a cherry sweet voice.

Rodrick watched Octavia handle Nan in a way only she could. Always with the sliver tongue that one.

Apparently, the lard was filled with rats. Large rats. Octavia stayed in the kitchen with Nan and the elves as Rodrick and her war hound took care of the mess. "Good boy, Calenhad. That's my very good boy." Octavia kissed her mabari. "But somebody will need a bath after protecting the lard!" Calenhad whined slightly at the implication. "Darrien will give you a bath if you want, he can't say no to you!" Calenhad jumped around in circles barking excitedly.

Rodrick knew this wasn't true. Darrien frequently said no to the ferocious pup. Darrien just couldn't say no to her. Octavia bouncing with every step, her voice rising an octave higher, her smile stretched wider than her arms before she throws them around his neck. Who could say no to that? Darrien would do anything to make her happy; he had the ability to unlock any door she wanted, pay any price she needed, provide her every desire. Rodrick's best option was the Grey Wardens. That wasn't enough for her, she deserved so much more. When Rodrick looked her in the eyes, he saw it.

Her excitement to share with Darrien and simply be with him. Rodrick never stood a chance. Octavia had never overlooked him, but she had never been interested either. She initiated the courtship with Nathaniel, she had initiated the courtship with Darrien and if she had been interested, she would've initiated the courtship with himself. What would telling her now do, but ruin what his family had built with the Couslands.

Rodrick smiled solemnly and disappeared to speak to Duncan as Octavia skipped happily into the kitchen to tell Nan the good news. After a delightful meal for her hound and thoroughly pissing off Nan in the best way, she went back to her original mission of speaking to Fergus for her father, until she saw her mother speaking to Landra Oswin in the hallway.

"Darrien, you didn't tell me your mother was coming." Leandra pulled her soon-to-be daughter in law into a tight embrace.

"I thought it'd be nicer if she surpr-"

Eleanor gleamed, "Oh Landra, you must see! I'll show you," The older women scurried away to the gardens, leaving Darrien alone with his future wife.

Eleanor gleamed, "Oh Landra, you must see! I'll show you! Give me a moment with my daughter and I'll meet you in the gardens." Landra scurried away towards down the hall. Eleanor turned to the man and woman before her and smiled. Her daughter had grown up so much in the last 18 years. The sweet little girl dressing up in mother's clothes and jewelry stood properly, head high. Her cute butter blonde pigtails are now undone and flowing down, stopping mid back. Darrien pulled Octavia close and kissed her forehead. Eleanor constantly switched between excitement for her daughter's wedding and grieving her daughter's childhood.

Eleanor smiled at the happy couple. "I wanted to let you both know I'll be staying in the castle for a few days, then I'll travel with Lady Landra back to her estate and keep her company for a time."

"You're leaving?" Octavia inquired.

"Your father thinks my presence might undermined your and Darrien's authority." Octavia wrapped her arms around her mother.

"As you wish."

"I love you, my darling girl. You know that, don't you?" Eleanor squeezed her daughter just a little tighter and pulled away.

"I love you too." Octavia wished her mother farewell, watching her scurry after Landra.

She felt hands wrap around her waist from behind. "Hm, no parents or protective brothers for a few weeks." Darrien kissed her temple and turned her around to look at him. "What would you say if I snuck into your room tonight when the castle falls asleep," His hand ran down her shoulder to cup her elbow in his soft hand. Octavia felt jitters run up her spine, she leaned forward.

"How did you convince the night guards to not tell my father?" She reached up to grab his collar and kiss him.

"I'm charming, dove." He rubbed his thumb across her soft, supple cheek. "Go see to your brother."


Octavia floated down the halls, reality crashing on her when she sees her brother wishing his son goodbye. "Ah, and here is my little sister to see me off." Attention traveled to her place hovering by the door.

Octavia shifted her weight back and forth on her feet and reached for a lock of her hair, "Should I wait outside?" Her voice was quiet as she ran a hand down the door frame.

"Stay." Fergus motioned her in. "I'd like to say goodbye." He pulled her into a loving hug and kissed the top of her head.

"We'll miss you." Octavia pulled away and moved to link arms with her sister-in-law.

"If it's any consolation, I'm sure I'll freeze in the southern rain and be completely jealous of you here, warm and safe." Oriana's glare did nothing to stop her husband's toothy grin. Octavia rested her head on her shoulder.

"I'm positively thrilled that you will be so miserable, husband."

Fergus's marriage to Oriana was controversial to say the least. The most important and wealthiest family in Ferelden, second only to the king and the heir is married to an Antivan. Their parents are nothing if not accepting and supportive of any decision their children may make, but Fergus had still dreaded approaching his parents about their courtship.

And his sister was right there beside him.

Octavia had sat through his inane questions on wording on letters he wrote to her. Octavia coordinated with the planning of parties to included nobles in allied countries, show the "strength of our family", and managed to distract both families long enough for Fergus and Oriana to sneak away on their own. Octavia bought the ring for Fergus in a style Oriana would love. Octavia stood next to him as he told their parents who he loved. Octavia was the head bridesmaid. Octavia helped Oriana when she was pregnant, and Fergus couldn't be there. Octavia was his son's godmother.

Fergus knew Oriana wouldn't have been his wife if it wasn't for Octavia. Whether she'd admit or not. How could he not return the favor?

"I come with a message; father wants you to leave without him."

"So the Arl's men are delayed!" Fergus grunted. "You'd think they were all walking backwards." He dragged his hand down his face with a sigh. When he opened his eyes, he saw the wide, curious eyes of his son staring back at him, "Well, I'd better be underway." He crouched down to the height of his son and ruffled his hair. "So many darkspawn to behead, so little time."

"I would hope, dear boy, that you would wait for us before taking your leave." The announcement drew their eyes to the door and their mother and father strolled in.

"Be well my son." Their mother kissed Fergus's cheek. "I will pray for your safety every day you are gone." Fergus wrapped armored arms around her shoulders and held her to him.

"A good shield would be more useful." Fergus and Bryce chuckled despite the glares of their wives.

Oriana grabbed Octavia's hands and started to pray. "Maker sustain and preserve us all. Watch over our sons, husbands, and bring them safely back to us."

"And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it!" Octavia's hand immediately slapped the back of his head. "Err… for the men, of course." His smile never wavering.

"What's a wench?" Oran's innocent voice inquired. "Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?"

"A wench is the women in the tavern who pours a lot of ale. Or drinks a lot of it." Bryce muttered under his breath.

"Bryce!" Eleanor chastised her husband. "Maker's breath, it's like living with a pair of small boys! Thankfully, I have a daughter."

Fergus let out a loud chuckle, "I'll miss you, Mother dear. You'll take care of her, Sister, won't you?"

"Mother can handle herself, always has."

"It's true, they should be sending her, not me. She would scold those darkspawn back into the deep roads." Childish snickers escaped the stifling smiles of the siblings.

"Well," Eleanor huffed. "I'm glad you two find this so funny."

"Enough, enough." The laughter in Bryce's voice was unmistakable. "Pup, you'll want to get an early night. You've much to do tomorrow."

"Yes, I'm meeting the Chantry Mother who will officiate my wedding and I have my final dress fitting." Oriana's eyes widened and she snatched Octavia's shoulder in her hands.

"Andraste! You didn't tell me the dress is done. How long is the train? How is it embroidered?"

Octavia motioned the style of her dress with her hands. "It's a ball gown cut, with a gem embroidered mesh-"

"Ladies, you will see it tomorrow. Off to bed, pup."

Octavia walked across the hall, stopping to ask a chambermaid to draw a warm bath before Darrien snuck into her room tonight. She soaked in the tub and blissfully gazed at the engagement ring on her finger.

"Two months." She whispered to herself. She couldn't help but say it out loud. She was getting married. So much had been done already, the cake, the dowry, the dress was almost done, so much was perfect. Two months. Two long months that couldn't go by quick enough. What she would do for these two months to go by swiftly.

Darrien slipped out his bedroom door and nodded at the men guarding the royal quarters. The men calmly opened the heavy oak door and went inside. Darrien's eyes glanced at his mother's room. She had stayed up chatting with him far longer after dinner than he thought she would. Not that he didn't love his mother and being nearly across the country from his family has been an adjustment, but his beautiful fiancée is waiting in her bed for him and hearing about Lady Eremon's brother joining the templar order didn't make him want to ignore the temptress a few feet away.

When Landra and Loren had dragged Darrien to see Lady Octavia Cousland a year ago, he had been reluctant to go. Leandra and Eleanor have been friends for many years and had made a handful of travels to Highever and Kinloch Hold and had brought their children with them several times.

Darrien had even remembered the first time Octavia was brought to Kinloch Hold; Landra had been ecstatic. She had always wanted a daughter and here was a pretty twelve-year-old she can play dress up with for hours. It wasn't until dinner that Loren and Darrien had been properly introduced to the girl. Octavia had been so polite and well read, talking to him about their favorite books and when he came to Castle Cousland, he simply must see her grandfather's study. Darrien had been infatuated ever since, making sure to dance with her at every ball they were invited to, following her around every Denerim fair, sitting next to her in ever salon.

And then rumor had spread of her and Nathaniel Howe.

The Howes were a much wealthier and more prestigious family, and long-time allies of the Couslands. Teryn Bryce Cousland and Arl Rendon Howe were best friends, and Nathaniel was a strong man. He was a notable and accomplished archer. But then everyone heard word that Nathaniel was sent to Free Marches and their courtship was over.

Eleanor had invited Landra – who struggled to conceal her love for Octavia – to Castle Highever and Darrien was required to go. That's not to say he didn't want to see Octavia, that is. He very much wanted to see her. He had been crushed when he heard the news and wanted nothing but to see her everyday since the rumor spread. But coming to castle while she was heartbroken to "console" her, as his mother put it, felt distasteful.

Then he saw her. Octavia was dancing and playing with the children of the castle, she was singing to herself in the library and training her mabari with the guard. She seemed okay. Octavia didn't even mention Nathaniel. After they returned to Kinloch Hold, it was Darrien who received a letter form Octavia.

And that letter changed his life. Before he knew it, they were writing each other constantly, they were visiting castles and he was making arrangements to speak with her parents.

The Maker had blessed him. Andraste had guided him to her, and he knew he would love her until his dying breath. He would move into her castle; he would take the Cousland name and bare her family's crest. He would ensure her happiness above all else and do anything to lift her up into all she could be.

The guard walked back in, leaving the door ajar. "Clear."

Darrien smiled and slipped as quietly as possible into his beloved's bedroom. What he found he could only describe as magnificent.

There was the love of his life in an Orlesian pink silk negligee, kneeling at the foot of the bed. "So," her ruby lips were cracked in the most sinister smile, "How did you convince the guards to look the other way?"

Darrien's mouth suddenly felt very dry. "I keep telling you, I'm charming." He hastily started tearing off his clothing. But just as he approached her, a hand pressed flat against his chest stopping him from further movement.

"You can't touch until you tell me how you convinced the guards to help you." Octavia snickered at Darrien's eagerness.

"I'm telling you; I can be very persuasive." Darrien let out a light chuckle as he reached out to grab her hips. His hands were quickly caught and held up by his head.

"Last chance before I change into a shirt and go to bed." She leaned forward to lightly graze his lips.

Darrien let out a fake exasperated groan. "I… caught a few guards playing cards when they were supposed to guard the treasury."

"Was that so hard?" That was all the confirmation he needed.

Octavia giggled as Darrien pushed her back on to the bed, her blonde hair splayed out on the beautiful pink bedsheets. He crawled over her and kissed down his stomach until he laid a wet kiss on her center. Octavia gasped at the feeling, and he knew if he just added a finger….

She arched her back off the bed just as he knew she would. After a year, it has never failed to turn him on watching her wither for him. He pulled her legs over his shoulders and slipped a second finger into her. He sped up to just how he knew she liked it, curling them upwards to hit that spot he knew she loved. Octavia moaned, and wrapped her fingers in Darrien's hair, arching into his mouth.

His free hand cupped her breast over the lace, his thumb gently rubbing her nipple. Her skin was so soft, her nipple already pebbled. He encouraged it further, tugged it with two fingers, first softly and then mercilessly. Octavia's moans turned into whimpers, even as she pressed helplessly into his grasp. Slowly he pumped into her slick, fingers matching the steady rhythm of his tongue. Darrin added a second finger and stretched her, closed his eyes and reveled in the way her voice rang out against the bedroom walls. He crooked his fingers forward, and Octavia came apart. She cried out, arched against his lips, and clenched the sheets in her fists.

Darrin softly nibbled her pearl and kissed up her stomach, landing a sloppy on her lips; allowing her to taste herself on him. "Please," she whispered, "you know what I need."

He needed it just as bad as she did. He was aching for her. He was aching to feel that slickness encircles him, to feel that tight push and pull of her, and to see her flushed and screaming for more underneath him. Without hesitation he guided himself into her. She was so wet already.

He needs very little guidance to find her entrance, and in one smooth, swift motion, Darrien sheathes himself inside her to the hilt. Both he and his beloved let out a punched-out moan of their hips crashing together.

With a barely breathed out word of encouragement from Octavia, Darrien starts to move, slow at first, letting himself drag along her slick walls until only the head of him is inside her, only to slam back into her fully, making Octavia cry out, her body arching almost up off the bed. Darrien takes the opportunity to slip his arm underneath her, gripping what he can reach of her waist. This time, as he withdraws himself, he adjusts a little, digging his knees into the bed, and when he pushes back in, Octavia gasps heavily, hands flying to clutch at his arms; he never has had any trouble finding that magic spot inside her.

"There," Octavia breathes as Darrien finds a rhythm to his thrusts, somewhat hard but unhurried, his body rolling smoothly into and against Octavia, "Oh, Darrien, right there."

Darrien's hips piston against her, and with almost every jerk of his body, Octavia moans, clutching at him, at herself, dragging him down to kiss him needily. Darrien grips the back of her thigh and drives harder into her, grunting both at his efforts and the heat of her.

Octavia, already close to release before this, can only moan and squirm and whimper, crying out when her own hand starts rubbing at her clit to match Darrien's ministrations.

"Oh, dove, yes," Darrien breathes, his eyes roaming her flushed skin, alternating between her face and her hand, "Make yourself come for me, dove. I want to feel it. I want to see it."

With a mewl she couldn't have suppressed if she tried, Octavia moves her hand faster, and Darrien answers by thrusting into her faster. He bends to kiss her forehead, her nose, her neck, whispering how much he loves her.

"Come for me, dove," he urges into her ear, breathless.

She lets out a sharp cry as her body bucks up underneath him, and a final, filling thrust makes her go stiff with wide eyes and shutter as her peak finally hits. Perhaps unable to hold his own back any longer, Darrien gives her two, three more thrusts, pushing himself home, and with a moan muffled into her shoulder, he joins her over the edge. Octavia shudders under him at the feel of his weight on her, and the heat of him spurting inside her. She wraps herself around him as they come down from their joint high, and he kisses at her temple, her cheek, soothing her.

"You are… you are everything to me. My love. My light. My wife." Darrien kissed her softly, rolled beside her and pulled her back to his chest. "I love you, dove."


Giggles filled the air in the large bedroom, "How did you get frosting on the ceiling?" Octavia's laugh made Darrien nudge her with his elbow.

"Shut up, you wanted to know why Nan hates me, there it is." His cheek muscles were starting to hurt from his obnoxiously wide grin. "I was trying to help with the practice wedding cakes!"

Octavia through her head back as a loud laugh barreled on. "So, Nan is stirring the frosting, and you-"

Roaring from the front of the room ripped their attention to the dog growling and snarling at the door.

"Buddy?" Octavia slid out of the bed and grabbed her robe. She slipped on the floor length robe and side eyed Darrien who was also up now and standing in his small clothes.

"Calenhad?" Darrien reached down to grab the emergency dagger Bryce had given to his daughter in case. The mabari continued to snarl at the door, Darrien could see the fear on his lover's face. "Wait here, I'm going to see if there's something out in the hall."

Darrien walked carefully towards the door, holding tight to the dagger. His hand reached out for the knob, one last look at his fiancée over her shoulder. He smiled. "It's alright, dove. It's probably just your dad who overheard your loudmouth." He teased lightly. Octavia offered a weak smile in return and held close to bed pole.

Darrien reached forward to grab the handle.

The door slammed open and knocked Darrien backwards, stumbling but managed to stay standing. Calenhad sprang into action biting at the ankle of the solider that forced his way in, teeth crunching through skin to bone. The assaulter screeched out in pain and kicked back against the dog. Octavia's screamed and stubbled back, hands shooting to cover her mouth.

Darrien regained his composure and lunged forward with the dagger.

But Darrien was not a warrior.

And Darrien fell.

The soldier pushed him back and shoved his sword through his throat. Darrien's body fell to the floor, smacking against the concrete with a crack.

"NO!" Octavia shrieked, grasping the pole in her fists. Knuckles turning white, tears began to pour out. "DARRIEN!"

The assailant turned his eyes to the blonde, a smirk creeping onto his sinister face.