Chapter 8: Responsibility

With my anger guiding me, Balmung removed the assassin's arm; shoulder to fingers, as easily as a knife would cut through freshly baked bread, and the now one-armed man screamed in terror as his blood gushed from his stump. Futilely the soldier tried to stem the loss of blood with his remaining arm, but with another flash of silver, Balmung solved that problem and his left forearm splattered blood on the two of us as it spun in the air. The assailant's cries reached a new height of hysteria as he fell to his knees, his eyes flickering between his two open wounds.

You don't get to die by the sword, Bastard! That death is too good for you.

With a thud I stabbed my supernatural sword into the stone floor of Castle Cousland, deep enough that it would stand straight up but still easy to retrieve, and stalked until I towered over the whimpering man.

"I don't have a lot of time, but I'm going to make your death incredibly painful for what you did to my family."

"No! Plea-"

My left armored hand squeezing the killer's throat abruptly ended the man's pathetic pleading, and then, with one hand, I raised Orianna's killer up and slammed him into the room's stone wall. He howled in pain as the back of his skull cracked, his spine and back bruised, and his remaining shoulder popped from its socket. At the same time, my right hand formed a fist and, before the killer could recover from being slammed into the wall, crashed straight into his ribs. Under my enhanced strength, the first punch shattered four of the assassin's ribs, and the shards were scattered into the man's intestines and stomach. The second punch broke the right half of the killer's sternum and collapsed his right lung. The third punch shattered his hip into a thousand pieces, and my last punch destroyed the collar bones left of his neck.

Then, with my rage spent the world returned to normal, I dropped the dying man onto the floor in a heap of blood, bone, and tears. The pain he would experience as his ripped stomach spilled acid into his blood-stream and his intestines would be excruciating; a suitable punishment for harming a member of my family, but practically merciful compared to what I would have done to him if I had more time. The man would die within the hour, if it wasn't by blood loss than the fire that he and his fellows had started within the castle would claim his life. Done with him, I retrieved Balmung from where I had stabbed it and returned the enchanted metal to its scabbard, before taking stock of the reactions of the others in the room.

Mother had fallen to her knees next to my sister-in-law's side, tears falling from her eyes as she questioned at who would order such depravity while Culainn was by her side attempting to confort her. Halava was staring intently at me, her knife still gripped in her dominant hand, and she had a look of wariness and unease on her face at the sight of my revenge but didn't raise her voice to comment about it. Her left hand she had wrapped protectively around my nephew, allowing him to sob into her shoulder. As our eyes meet she flickered her gaze to the door of Fergus' room, her message simple to understand.

We can't stay here. We have to keep moving.

"Mother." I whispered as I kneeled down to comfort her with a hug. "We have to push forward and escape. With most of our troops gone with Fergus there is no way the Castle can stand after a surprise assault like this. Orianna would want Oren to be kept safe so you have to save your grief for latter and let your rage guide your arrows."

My speech seemed to have some effect on her because she managed to shake her and wipe the tears from her eyes before glaring in the direction of the front gate.

"We need to know if anyone is still defending the castle." Mother spoke as she stood up from cradling my sister-in-law's dead body. "To that end we should make our way to the front gate. If the Maker smiles down on us we might find Sir Gilmore on the way there. After that we enact revenge on who ever did this to our family."

With a grim nod I turned away from mother and picked up the sword of the Amaranthine soldier and, with a quick knee strike, snapped the five-foot blade into a jagged two-foot short sword. Ignoring the looks of confusion on everyone's faces, I walked towards and kneeled in front of my nephew.

"Oren." I grabbed the four-year old's right hand and slowly curled it around the broken, but still deadly weapon's handle. "Things will only get more dangerous from here on out and, while Grandma and Halava and myself will do everything in our power to protect you, we might not be strong or fast enough to beat every enemy roaming the castle. If that is the case, you will need to be strong and use this to protect yourself long enough for one of us to help you. Can you do that for me, young Heir Cousland?"

For a moment the young boy just stared into the steel of the blade that was used to kill his mother, his eyes devoid of anything that wasn't fear and anxiety. But slowly a look that was equal parts hatred and courage brought color to his face and he tighten his grip on his new weapon, and I stood up and turned my back to him and the looks of disapproval the woman in the room were directing at me.

"That, young lord-to-be, is the weight of a weapon that can end a life. Remember it. Understand it. Master it. At the end of the day its weight is nothing compared to the weight of actually taking a life."

Next, I turned to my loyal war hound who had accompanied me throughout my life. "Culainn stay close to Oren. If any enemies get past me and close to him, kill them." The large Mabari barked in response and moved to stand next to my nephew.

With two strides I left my brother's desecrated room to face two new soldiers that had arrived in the living room hallway some time in between my slaughter of the last batch of Howe soldiers and the discovery of my dead sister. Bother men looked filthy with soot and dirt marring the skin under their helmets, and below that it was easy to see that neither of them was all that attractive looking or impressive physically.

"-erd that any man that kills a part of Cousland family will get a lot of gold."

"Oh, and who exactly said that." I called out, grabbing their attention.

"Die!" The man who wasn't speaking before cried as he charged with his sword held high.

With a sharp smirk I slapped the sword away from me with my gauntleted hand as it descended, stepped into my assailant's guard, and slammed my forehead into his skull. The soldier's eyes rolled up into his head as his legs gave out and he fell onto the floor in a heap, and the other soldier watched with wide eyes as I slowly put the heel of my foot onto his neck. The unharmed man lost control of his bladder as I snapped the injured man's neck with my boot as easily as a child breaks a tooth pick, but before he could flee my other gauntleted hand shot forward and grasped the man's entire head.

"I asked you a question." I whispered as I lifted the man by his head and slowly increased the pressure my fingers were putting on his skull. "Who is offering money of the heads of the Cousland family?"

"Aghhhh! Stop, please!" The man squirmed as he tried to pry my fingers from his head but might as well be trying to bend steel with his bare hands for all the good his resisting was doing. "I'll tell you! Please just stop! Oh, Maker, it was Howe! Arl Howe ordered us to attack the castle and put a price on your heads!

With a more-than-please grin I just increased the pressure on his skull until it broke, blood erupted from his ears, nose, and eyes, and the man stopped moving completely. Then without a thought, I tossed the body like trash to the side of the hallway.

"I guess the mystery is solved then." I muttered as I stomped towards the door leading out of my family's sleeping quarters. "It seems Uncle Howe is, in fact, trying to kill us. I'll have to make sure to return the favor at some point."

"You took the words right out of my mouth, my son." Mother quipped as she bypassed the two new dead bodies with even less interest then me. "I'll have to remind Rendon why I was called the Seawolf."

"Ha! Indeed." I barked out a grim laugh. "Uncle Howe will piss himself when he realizes that he woke not only the Seawolf, but the terrifying dragon she birthed."

Both Mother and I laughed away our grief as we lead our group towards Castle Cousland's main hall with Oren and Halava silently tailing behind us the entire way, all the way fighting through small cabals of Howe soldiers. Upon seeing enemies, Mother would fall to the back of our party and pelt the enemy with bullseye after bullseye of rage filled arrows while Halava would move forward to assist me on the frontlines, duel wielding a plain short sword she took from the dead guard whose skull I had crushed with one hand and a beautiful Silverite dagger in the other. Oren would stay in the back with either Halava or Mother and Culainn while calling out any enemies that he thought we didn't notice, and I stayed at the forefront of the party, carving through soldier after soldier with Balmung's mystic edge.

Along the way we stopped and emptied Castle Cousland's treasury of everything that we could carry and could be of use to Howe if he got his hands on. The ancestral sword and shield of the Cousland family I strapped to my waist and back, respectively, and the pile of 350 Sovereigns plus a number of silvers Mother split between herself, Oren, and Halava. Also, there Mother replaced her hunting bow with the old war bow she claimed to have used in the Rebellion and gave Halava one of the Cousland elite knight swords, of which was of a much higher quality than the Amaranthine blade she had been using previously.

It was only after checking on the castle Chantry, and finding that Mother Mallol was missing, did we finally make our way to the main hall. There, at least, we found a friendly face.

"Blessed Andraste! Thank the Maker that you are alright!" The usually friendly voice of Sir Gilmore was strained by fatigue from holding such a key part of the castle with so few troops, and his usually carefree face was marred by lines of stress and an actual jagged red scar line on his right cheek that just missed his eye. "My Lord, Lady Teyrna, and young Lord Oren, you have no idea how relieved I am that you three are unharmed."

Stepping out of the way of the doorway, I allowed Mother to usher Oren into the hall while Halava came in after, entering with her back to the door so she could watch our backs. After they entered I hastily shut the door and dragged a nearby book case in front of it to block it. However, before I could come forward to speak to my long-time friend a shout from one of the guards watch the front interrupted the peace.

"Enemies! Howe dogs are coming in through the front!"

Ten men wearing Amaranthine colors came rushing into the main hall following the guard's warning, but four immediately meet their ends. Mother and one of the guards, who was also wielding a bow, had let loss arrows the moment the door had opened leaving one Howe soldier with an arrow instead of a left eye while the other was screaming at the arrow that had penetrated his stomach and intestines. One more was cut in half, legs falling in one direction and the rest of him falling in the other, by Balmung, while the last was dead before he hit the ground when Halava climbed one of the dinner tables and leapt from it onto his chest, swords and dagger first.

Two more fell when they tried to rush the, now floor bound, she-elf. One was rewarded for his efforts with a Silverite dagger to the throat while the other lost a leg to Balmung's edge before I stabbed the enchanted blade home into his heart. Then, with the advantage of numbers on our side even with the loss of one of the two guards, everyone ended up facing an opponent one-on-one.

My foe ended up being the only mage apart of the troop of Howe soldiers. Dressed in tawny, shabby robes and wielding a mage's staff that was little more tree branch, it was obvious that this was just some apostate mage that managed to hide from Templar Order all his life and not one of the more powerful mages that stayed free from Circle control through personal power. The man had unkempt hair and beard, both of which were starting to go grey and his skin looked pale and clammy, like he had been living in a cave all his life.

I easily blocked his first spell, a basic Shock similar to the ones my mage friends had demonstrated for me, by throwing a nearby chair into its path, and shock off a Mind Blast with little difficulty, but when the mage launched a sustained bolt lightning at my face I was forced to get creative. Not because the spell would hurt, but because the tingly feeling after being hit with a lightning spell was too annoying to deal with. By dropping onto the ground and rolling under a nearby table I managed to dodge most of the mystic attack, while the rest merely charred expensive woodwork when I lifted the table I was under with little trouble and used it as a shield.

Moving forward with my makeshift shield I managed to reach the man even when he back stepped as fast as he could. Then, with only a flimsy piece of furniture between us, I stabbed Balmung through the table and into his gut. His scream of pain echoed off the stone walls of the main hall, and, because everyone else had finished their foes already, caused all my allies to turn in my direction.

"What?" I questioned as I whipped the dying man's blood on his robes and stomped on both his staff and dominant hand, breaking them. "I can't help it if my advisory is a screamer. What do want me to do, gag him then kill him?"

With a huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh Mother turned away from me to focus on discerning Father's location from Sir Gilmore, leaving me to take stock of everyone else's conditions. Of the two guards that had been helping our sworn knight protect the main hall only the archer of the two still lived, and he was currently kneeling next to his dead brother-in-arms rocking back and forth while whispering the Chant of Light. Halava was whipping blood from her duel weapons, the small smile on her face hinting that she found me earlier comment humorous, just like Mother did, and, also like Mother, was trying to hide the fact that she thought as much. Finally, poor Oren was sporting a sickly shade of pale as he gazed upon his home covered in the blood of invaders and gripped tightly in his left hand was the makeshift short sword I had given him, still covered in his mother's blood, all the while my loyal hound tried to get his attention with gentle nudges of his nose.

"Oren. Oren, look at me" I called out to the boy as I softly made my way to him and placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. "Don't look at their bodies any longer than you have too nephew. In the middle of a battlefield, to better protect yourself, it is better that you forget that your enemies are people. You have to close yourself off to their pain, desperation, and fate, for only your side matters until the battle is over. Do you understand Oren?"

Slowly Oren's deep blue eyes, much like Father's and Fergus', turned so that they gazed into my sea-green until they slowly darkened and hardened into twin abyss as determination filled him. After witnessing his small transformation, I didn't even need his nod of confirmation, but still smiled and squeezed his shoulder softly when he did so, before focusing on Mother as she approached us.

"According to Sir Gilmore, your Father was here moments before we arrived but left for the hidden escape tunnel in the larder, hoping to find us there. We should hurry; Sir Gilmore has volunteered to stay here and hold the front gate for as long as possible but against a whole army he will only be able to hold this point for so long, and I'm worried about your Father wandering about while Howe soldiers roam the halls."

"Do you mean th-" I grimaced as Mother interrupted my question.

"Yes, it is. The tunnel you used to run away so many years ago is, in fact, the one your Father is headed for."

Damn it all.

"Very well." I frowned before turning to address the loyal knight I had known all my life. "Sir Gilmore, thank you. I have met few men as brave as you and I believe you would have made a great Grey Warden. May the Maker watch over you."

"And you as well Lord Dragon Slayer."

With our goodbyes done I opened the door opposite to the one we had used to get into the main hall, and held it open for my mother, nephew, and the mysterious elf that was helping us. Then before closing it behind me I left one last message for the men loyal to Highever.

"It was an honor knowing or meeting each one of you. Fight well, and I look forward to the day we all meet again in the next life."

The path to the kitchen was just as dangerous as the path to the main hall. Howe soldiers flitted from room to room like vermin and most died in the same fashion. The only real threat being the Howe knight that waited for our party in front of what was left of Nan's cooling corpse, the blood of the woman who treated me like her own son dripping from his war maul and a cruel smirk dancing across his face under his helm.

The knight died slowly and painfully for his deeds. Impaled alive with his own, shattered, weapon, with all his limbs broken so he couldn't escape the fire that was slowly making its way towards him. He could only watch with desperate eyes as my group made its way into the castle larder, and as his painful death slowly inched towards him.

"Bryce!" Mother called out as she entered the larder first and her cry was quickly followed by Oren's shout of, "Grandpa!"

However, as I entered the small back room it took everything I had not to storm out of the larder and rampage through the invading army until I found Arl Rendon Howe. Because my father was wounded, and it was obvious that the wound was a mortal one that would claim his life.

"Pup." Father gasped as he saw me, all the while my blood boiled as small tears escaped from my eyes as I looked into his ice blue orbs for what could be the last time. "You did a great job protecting our family, my son."

As he rose the hand that wasn't holding his injured hand I dropped to my knees and grasped the appendage in both my armored hands. "I wasn't fast enough, Father." I growled as I tightened my grip on his hand. "Oriana was dead before I could reach her, and soon you will be joining her in the afterlife. I'm sorry."

"My poor, brilliant son." Father whispered as he let go of his wound, so he could use his bloody hand to pull me into a tight embrace that allowed him to whisper into my ear. "You have grown so much since you left here that I barely recognized you as the young man I take such pride in raising. You did everything you could for your sister and I, but now the living take precedence over the dead."

"Don't talk like that Bryce." Mother's tears ran down her face as she listened to Father's words. "Just hold on, we'll find a way to patch you up and then we all can get out of here."

"Oh, my love." Father turned his focus on Mother as I gently helped him lay back down so he could again hold his injured side. "I wish I could do as you say, but I'm afraid I don't have much time left."

"I'm afraid that the Teyrn right, in more ways than one." A new, only slightly familiar voice echoed off the larder stones, only to gulp when I reared up to my feat, drew my sword, and thrust it under the intruder's chin in less than a second after he walked through the larder door.

Duncan, the older Grey Warden Commander who I had dinned with earlier, blinked as he observed the enchanted sword resting at his throat, and slowly raised his hands in a placating manner, only to gulp in anxiety as the action only received a growl from me.

"Pup, its ok. Duncan saved my life earlier; he is the only reason your talking to me now and not finding naught but a corpse."

"Indeed." Duncan confirmed, a forlorn look forming on his face. "I regret that I couldn't get to the Teyrn before he was injured so gravely."

"If you were so regretful, then why did you leave him here alone and defenseless?" The angry question escaped my mouth with a growl before I could stop it, even as I sheathed my sword and allowed the man to enter.

"Because Duncan came back into the keep to find me." Another new voice sounded from behind the Commander of the Grey, this only more familiar because of the woman that it belonged to.

Shiara Amell, though still as beautiful as she was during dinner, looked slightly worse off due to the speckles of blood staining her once pristine robes and tussled hair. Her eyes shifted to the corners of the larder as she entered with a weariness that didn't exist earlier, and a small red stain adorned her pale neck, which she tried to cover up by ruffling her robes to block sight of it.

"Duncan." Father's pained gasp interrupted my thoughts, as he gazed up at the Grey Warden commander with feverishly bright eyes. "My family needs to escape the castle, could you please help them?"

"Of course, my lord Teyrn." Duncan lowered his head in both acceptance and, what looked like, shame. "But in return I need to ask something from you."

"Name it, Commander." Father accepted instantly, raising a warning hand towards me as I reached for my sword again and color seemed to bleed out of the world, but the details of Duncan's armor became more pronounced.

"My lord, I came to Highever to find a potential recruit for the Grey Wardens, and instead I found three." Duncan explained as he kneeled next to Father. "Sir Gilmore would have made an excellent Warden, but I'm afraid he is probably dead, and I can't return to Ostagar without more potential recruits. To that end, in return for helping your family escape, I wish for both your son and Halava Tabris to become Grey Wardens."

Silence permeated the storage room as everyone within tried to digest the Grey Warden's request, and all the while I was resisting the urge to plunge Balmung straight into the older man's heart. In response to my obvious anger Shiara was trying to be subtle as she prepared her staff to cast spells if I acted on my impulse to kill.

"Very well Duncan you have a deal." Father's words broke the silence as my temper exploded and I broke a nearby barrel of cabbages with my fist. "You help my family escape and Artorias will join the Wardens. As for Miss. Tabris you will need to asker directly."

With a nod Duncan grasped my dying father's hand for a deal-sealing shake, before opening the secret tunnel out of the castle and motioned for everyone else to begin moving. Shiara was the fist to make use of the exit, obvious anxious to leave the chaotic castle, and was shortly followed by Halava after she kneeled next to Father and whispered a few words of parting. However, when it was Mother's turn to leave, problems arose.

"No!" Mother cried. "I won't leave you here for Howes dogs to find. If you stay, I stay! And every Howe man that walks though that door will face my arrows until I run out."

"Absolutely not." I pulled my mother from her knees. "If I'm going off to fight Darkspawn and you stay here to die against Howe soldiers, who is going to take care of Oren and help him reclaim the castle! You are leaving with us Mother, whether you do so by your own power or if I have to throw you over my shoulder."

The larder was silent for a moment after my declaration before Mother released a pained wail, laid long kiss on Father's lips, whispered unheard words into his ears and descended down the secret passage whilst placing a weeping Oren under her unarmed hand. Together the two descended the dark passage way with Halava and Shiara and Culainn, leaving just Father, Duncan, and I.

Without hesitation Balmung was drawn from its sheath and hovering inches away from Duncan's neck once again, this time causing a few drops of blood to drip down the fragile skin. "I should kill you where you stand Warden Duncan, for having the audacity to blackmail Father with Mother, and Oren's lives."

For a moment the only sounds to fill the larder were from the destruction outside, but because Father began coughing up blood again I re-sheathed my dragon-slaying steel and left my threat half delivered. "I will do as you command, Father." I whispered to the dying man who raised me as I gently wrapped in a final hug. "I will fight the darkspawn as a Grey Warden but rest easy knowing I will also bring justice to our house and visit vengeance upon Rendon Howe. You have my word as the Grandmaster of the Order of Balmung and as your son. I love you Father."

"I love you as well, my son. Now go."

Then, with my parting words given, I lowered Father's head onto a bloody cloth and jogged down the secret passage with the Commander of the Grey close on my heels. I only stopped to hit the switch that closed the secret passage, during which my sea-green eyes met with Father's deep blue for the last time as he smiled at me. Then the door to the passage closed and darkness engulfed us all.

A.N:

So I'm really sorry that this took so long but it has been a pretty busy time for me.

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I guess I'll just get started on the next chapter, see ya later.