The banter between the Cousland brothers was inspired by TheEvilDog's Duty and Honour
Speaking of which, TheEvilDog, it has been a month since you last updated that story. Where is the next chapter? I am beginning to lose my patience!
Chapter 6
One month later…
Matthew had spent the day fighting in mock combat with numerous new recruits; the past month had been spent rebuilding Highever Castle, as well as its army. Currently, he was facing 5 brothers, whose armor and weapons ranged from leather and daggers to plate and greatswords. The brothers spread out and walked to the sides like crabs, trying to encircle him. He knew he had to take a few out before that happened; he might be an excellent fighter, but he didn't have eyes in the back of his head.
With a swiftness that stunned the recruits, he lashed out and struck two lightly armored fighters before they could defend themselves. Both fell to the ground, one with a throbbing head, and the other with bruised ribs. He heard a third brother, armored in heavy chain mail, run up behind him, intending to hit Matthew in the head with his wooden war hammer. Altering his grip so that the blade of his wooden training sword would be pointing downward, Matthew stabbed the blade under his left arm, and felt it connect with the recruit's abdomen. He fell to the ground, his breath knocked out.
Matthew than turned to the two remaining brothers. Both were armored in steel plate, but one was armed with a greatsword, while the other the other wielded a sword and shield. Now, Matthew, with his medium-weight chainmail armor, held the advantage of speed and maneuverability. Quickly, he ran up to the greatsword wielding recruit, and struck his blade against his opponent's, trapping the swords between them. He then kicked the man between his legs, smashed his sword's pommel into his face, and finally striking him in the helmet with his blade.
Turning to the final recruit, he swung the wooden sword in an overhead chop that cut into the recruit's wicker shield, and, giving the sword a mighty yank, throw both the weapon and the shield to the ground, and causing the recruit to stumble forward. With astounding reflexes, he pulled a small knife from his belt, and brought it up to the gap in the recruit's neck armor; had he continued the blow, he would have slit the man's throat.
Matthew paused, then laughed, and released his captive. "It was a good idea, trying to surround me. However, don't expect an enemy to stand there, and let it happen. They will fight to get out." The four other soldiers started to get up, groaning as they did so. The one who Matthew had kicked looked somewhat green. "That wasn't fair, ser," he said in a hollow voice. Matthew just smiled. "If you want to survive a battle, soldier, than you had best drop the word "fair" from your vocabulary, at least while you're fighting." "Yes, ser," all 5 brothers shouted, then turned and limped off the training field.
Matthew turned, and walked off in the opposite direction, where he found his wife and brother watching him. With a humorous gleam in her eye, Morrigan walked up and kissed him, then said, "It never ceases to amaze me that so many of these fools insist on fighting you, love. One would think that they would keep their distance, given that you have killed the Archdemon, among so many other dangerous foes." "I think that is just it, Morrigan," Matthew replied. "They all want to be the one who bested the Hero of Fereldan. And they all wind up like that bunch."
Fergus, deciding to have some fun, and being one of two people in Fereldan who were allowed to tease Matthew, then commented, "Yes, it was a very impressive display, Matthew. But you're putting too much weight on one foot, and that stunt with the shield left you practically defenseless." Matthew, not to be outdone, shot back with, "At least I have some inkling as to how to use a sword, Fergus. You, on the other hand, still hold it by the wrong end." Fergus's eyes then widened in mock horror. "You mean I'm not supposed to do this?" He pulled his sword from its sheath, and spun it around, so that he was holding it by the end of the blade. "You have undone my world with this revelation, brother. How will you sleep at night?" Both brothers began laughing until tears formed in their eyes.
When they finally recovered from their merriment, Morrigan was shaking her head in disbelief. "I have always wondered why Matthew insisted on being such a fool at all hours of the day, and now I know why; such a trait seems to run in the Cousland family." "That it does, Morrigan, that it does," Fergus replied. "Now, if you will excuse me, I promised the grand cleric that I would here out some of her complaints." "What about," Matthew asked. "I'm not sure. Likely, she will scold me because I allowed my younger brother to marry an apostate, and tainting our line with magic." Fergus stopped, and shock his head. "As if I, or anyone else, could have stopped you." And with that, he began to make his way to the chantry.
Morrigan then shifted to her lover's side, and wrapped her arms around him. "He seems to be recovering rather well." "Yes." Matthew said, sobering up immediately. "I think being back home has helped him. Or the necklace; I always healed faster when I was wearing it." "Hmmm," Morrigan hummed. They stood there for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company, before Morrigan turned to him, and, with a sultry smile on her face, purred, "So, do you wish to retire to our room." Matthew groaned; they had had this discussion before. "I've told you before Morrigan, I am not laying with you while you are with child; it is just not right." "Very well," Morrigan sighed. "You will not resist forever; and you must go to sleep at some point."
Just then, an elf ran up to the couple, and said, "My lord, King Alistair is here in the castle." "Oh, Fergus will be pleased," Matthew said. "We can save him from being chewed up by the grand cleric." "Actually, my lord," the elf continued, "he said, and I quote, 'I need to see the Hero of Fereldan, and his personal desire demon.'" Matthew burst out laughing; none of his companions had been on good terms with Morrigan, but Alistair and the Witch of the Wilds had been at each other's throats from day one. "Very well, we'll be right there." He then flipped the messenger a silver coin. "Thank you, ser," he exclaimed, and ran off to finish his rounds.
"And now the fool must leave his palace, come here, and ruin such a beautiful day," Morrigan complained. "Why did you ever make that dunce king?" "I made him king because it was either him, or that spoiled, power-hungry, traitorous bitch, Anora." Matthew had rescued the former Queen of Fereldan from Arl Rendon Howe's clutches after he had assassinated the traitor, but, at the Landsmeet, when Matthew made it clear he would support Alistair for the throne, Anora had turned on them, and denounced them. It still had not been enough to stop them, though; after revealing that Loghain had been harboring blood mages, selling elves into slavery, and had tried to poison Arl Eamon, the majority of the lords had thrown in with the rebels, and Loghain and Anora were voted out of power.
"Ah, yes. Well, let us go and meet with his majesty." Morrigan said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. Laughing, Matthew put his arm around her, called "Come on, Gleadr", and began walking towards the great hall, his love by his side, and his war hound at his heels.
A few minutes later…
The trio walked into the hall to find the King of Fereldan standing before the fire. He looked very handsome and intimidating, given that he was garbed in golden steel armor, and he had a large shield and a finely crafted silvirite sword on his back. Upon seeing them, he gave them his signature grin. "It's great to see you, Matthew, Gleadr. Demon." "Oh, would you look at that, love. The fool is trying to make a joke," Morrigan said in a mockingly sweet tone of voice, as if speaking of a small child's first steps. "On the contrary, Morrigan, I have made a truly excellent joke; you simply lack the brain power to understand its brilliance." "If I could get this back on track," Matthew quickly stepped in, "what brought you out here, Alistair."
Alistair sighed, then, the air of breaking extremely bad news, said, "Matthew, there are two Grey Wardens in all of Fereldan, and they are both standing right here. We need to change that and quickly. For some reason, the darkspawn haven't all gone back into the deep roads; some have gathered in war bands, and they are ripping the Arling of Amaranthine to shreds. We need to rebuild the Wardens here in Fereldan, and since I have the responsibility of ruling Fereldan, thanks to you, I was hoping that you would become Warden-Commander of Fereldan."
Matthew almost groaned; he had been through hell in the past year, and had looked forward to a nice, peaceful time helping Fergus rebuild Highever, and getting ready to be a father, and he was in no hurry to jump back into the flames. Scrambling to get out of this mess, he asked, "Why not ask the Wardens from Orlais, or the Free Marches, to come." "Fereldans hate Orliasians, in case you have forgotten that Matthew. And while I have asked the Warden's in the Free Marches to come, the knight-commander of Kirkwall, Meredith Stannard, refused to allow them to leave, claiming they were helping blood mages escape the Chantry's justice." "TEMPLERS!" Matthew shouted, making the word sound like the world's greatest curse. "Templers," Alistair agreed, though he merely sounded annoyed.
"Alright, fine. I'll become Warden-Commander." Alistair laughed. "You sound so pleased about it. Oh, and since you'll be Warden-Commander, that also makes you the Arl of Amaranthine; you'll be the ruler of the Arling, and you will have a full voice in the Landsmeet." Matthew started, than started laughing hysterically. "Imagine," he managed to sputter out, "Rendon Howe's face if he knew that, when he betrayed my family, it would end with me holding his title." Morrigan and Alistair paused, then they too burst into laughter, and even Gleadr barked happily with them.