The snow was falling. It blanketed the castle, dusted the trees, and powdered the grounds in a soft layer of sugary white. The clear night skies preceding the snowfall made Highever a most picturesque scene indeed for the winter holiday. Cousland's men were merry and in bright spirits, the servants hummed to themselves as they did their work, and the guests that slowly trickled in for the holidays were greeted with roaring fires, contented chatter, and the constant smell of holiday spices wafting from the kitchen. Even though she had been worried about the fact that Teyrn Loghain and his daughter Anora- whom Sabia was expected to entertain and keep company- were coming to stay at Highever for the holiday, her nervous gut couldn't dampen her mood as she sparred with Fergus, trying to assuage her worry.

It wasn't that she didn't like Anora- she was intelligent and not as obsessed with fashion and material things like other noble girls, and they got along well enough- but she was nervous and excited about seeing the Teyrn of Gwaren again, and was afraid of looking a fool. For now, she took her nerves out on her brother in sparring matches. The soldiers laughed as she spun on her toes, leaning out of the way of Fergus' swing, then used her own fluid movement, and his clumsy momentum, to swing her swords at him, hitting him squarely on the rump and sending him falling face-first into a snowbank. With a bright bark of laughter, she flicked her wrists, her swords flashing. He rolled onto his back, his face red from good natured embarrassment, the cold and amusement. Sabia laughed in return, still keeping her balance, should he get up to strike again. He got to his knees, laughing and brushing the snow from his pants.

"Mercy, sister! Mercy!," he said, breathless with mirth as he wiped snow- and tears of laughter- from his eyes. Sabia giggled again and reached out to help him to his feet. He smiled at her sheepishly.

"This won't do at all, will it, sister? Ten years my junior and you have me beat at every turn!" He said, sheathing his sword and replacing his shield. Sabia snickered and sheathed her own weapons, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to hug him.

"Age has nothing to do with it...but it is hardly my fault you are becoming an old man!" She teased, dancing out of reach as he snarled playfully and made to grind his knuckles against her scalp.

Bryce and Eleanor came to the courtyard, watching with laughing eyes as Fergus chased Sabia in the snow, shouting playful threats, receiving light hearted taunts and blown raspberries. Bryce shook his head, smiling, and Eleanor wrapped an arm about his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder, her sharp eyes watching the antics. Normally, with such company that was expected at any time now, they would have told their rambunctious children to calm themselves, but the holiday didn't leave much room to be TOO formal- until the snowballs began to fly between the siblings that now darted between trees and fleeing guardsmen. Bryce opened his mouth to suggest they save their scuffle for later, as their guests were about to arrive, but was interrupted as a snowball flew astray from the intended target- Sabia's shoulder- and hit him in the forehead. The Couslands were quiet- the siblings staring at each other in horror, and Eleanor blinking as snow fell from Bryce's forehead. Bryce was silent, pulling the snow from his hair. Sabia and Fergus moved to their father without him having to say a word. Bryce looked at his children, his expression unreadable.

"Well. I think we all know what this means," He said quietly. Sabia and Fergus exchanged a worried look, wondering if this meant the holiday was going to go from wonderful to terse.

Quick as a greased fox, Bryce slipped from his wife's touch and scooped up a snowball, pelting it straight into his son's face. Fergus reeled back in shock, falling into the snow on his rump. Shaking the snow from his eyes, he looked up at his father, who was packing another snowball, a grin on his face. Sabia let loose a crow of laughter, and darted behind a tree as Bryce aimed for her. With his target no longer in his line of sight, Bryce flung the frozen projectile at his still stunned son, who fell back, laughing.

"Not fair, Father!" He protested loudly.

Sabia slunk behind the hedges, her hands full of snow and a wicked grin on her face as she made her way closer to assault her father, taking advantage of her father pelting her exposed brother. A shadow fell over her, and she whirled around- just in time to see her mother's wicked grin right before getting a face full of snow. She let out a shriek of laughter, falling into the hedges, dropping her ammunition. Eleanor, slick as ever, darted away, missing a snowball thrown by her husband. By this time, Bryce had darted behind a tree, and Fergus had taken cover. Sabia stifled a giggle and grabbed another handful of snow, packing it into a nice large sphere. She looked around, her ears listening for any sounds of her family members- who had all darted under cover. She caught the sound of armor clinking, and she grinned wickedly, her teeth flashing wolfishly.

"Dear brother, you're too loud...you LEFT YOURSELF OPEN!" She declared gleefully, leaping out of the hedges and flinging her frozen weapon.

Right into the face of Teyrn Loghain.

Sabia shrieked, her face going deathly pale, and her knees nearly gave out beneath her- it was her desire to flee right then that gave her limbs the strength to support her. She pulled her handkerchief from under her leather breastplate and made to hand the cloth to the Teyrn, stammering her apologies over and over, her voice shaking. He took the cloth from her and wiped his face clean of snow, revealing a rather amused and surprised expression. Sabia blinked, still pale, not sure what to make of the situation. He laughed heartily, his eyes falling on the snow dusted Bryce, and Fergus, who was now soaked. He laughed even harder as Eleanor came into view from behind a tree, snowballs clutched in either hand.

"Did I interrupt family war games, Bryce?" He asked in amusement. Bryce cracked a wry smile at Loghain and made his way over, extending his hand. Loghain shook it animatedly, looking at Sabia and Fergus with interest. Sabia bit her lip.

"Please forgive me, your Grace," she stammered. "I...I thought you were Fergus."

Loghain chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.

"Don't trouble yourself over it, Lady Cousland. Serves me right, making myself a walking target in the middle of a battlefield. You'd think I'd know better!"

Bryce and Eleanor laughed, but Sabia was mortified that she'd pelted her hero in the face with a snowball. Loghain glanced at the weapons at her hips, and the sword and shield on Fergus' back.

"I take it a bit of sparring led to the match being decided by snowballs?" He asked, his mouth curling in a smile. Fergus laughed, looking embarrassed.

"No, your Grace, the match was already decided. I've yet to be able to beat my dear little sister when she has those weapons in her hand. Snowballs were how I defended my honor as a man," he joked, but Loghain was eyeing Sabia with a new expression.

"Good with swords, are you?"

Sabia nodded quietly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, her face red. Loghain held out his hand, eyes on her longsword main hand. Without a word or second thought, she handed it to him. He hefted it in his hand, testing the weight and balance of the blade, making a few experimental swings with it. Sabia got a sense of foreboding as he continued looking at the blade- his eyes were looking at the blade, yet they weren't. Without even thinking, she began settling her weight to her center of balance, tensing her thighs slightly and relaxing her back- assuming her stance for dueling.

Without warning, Loghain struck at her with the longsword, his blow fast and hard. Eleanor and Bryce made a sound of protest, but Sabia ignored them. Her hand flew to her offhand weapon, drawing it and bringing it up to meet the sword with a spray of sparks. The force of his blow pushed her back, but she relaxed her torso further, letting his momentum carry him forward and push her back, upsetting his center of balance as she tucked her legs under her, coiling her relaxed spine and rolling away. He stumbled forward, catching himself almost immediately and recovering gracefully, turning on his toes quickly to face her, the sword still held at the ready, but his face was that of surprise. Eleanor and Bryce seemed a bit unhappy that the Teyrn had simply swung at their daughter, but there was relief and pride on their faces as they watched their daughter hold her own. Fergus beamed.

"That's the little sister for you, your Grace. She's damned good with a sword," he said proudly.

Loghain ignored the comment and went after her again, using both hands to swing the sword. Sabia made the tiniest sound as she barely managed to dodge his hammering blow by feinting to the left, then sliding rightwards. She watched as he brought the sword to the ready again, his steely blue eyes unreadable, staring at nothing, but seeing everything. He moved to a fighting stance, and Sabia noticed how he moved his weight slightly to his right leg. She narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to strike. He lunged, and she moved to do a sliding dive- right between his spread legs to move herself behind him. Loghain knew her plan, however, and caught her around the waist with his left leg, sending her crashing to the ground on her back. She cursed to herself- he'd braced his weight so he could attack with his left and fling her to the ground. She wanted to pound the ground with her fists in anger at herself for not seeing his plan, and that she had given herself away by narrowing her eyes. She kept her composure, however, and held up her hands as the point of the longsword was pointed at her throat a split second later. She panted, her chest heaving, but her eyes sparkled with adrenaline and the joy of finally sparring with someone that was more than a match for her. Loghain smiled, but it looked more like a smirk.

"I yield, your Grace," she said softly, her eyes not moving from his. He let out a grunt of laughter, withdrew the weapon and moved to give her a hand up. She took his hand and let him pull her easily and gently to her feet. He moved to hand her her weapon back, but blinked. Both swords were cracked.

"I apologize, mi'lady. I didn't realize I would break your weapons," he said, looking guilty, like a child who had broken another's favorite toy. Bryce laughed, his shock at the Teyrn swinging at his daughter gone.

"No need to worry, Loghain. She breaks her sparring weapons all the time. Perhaps we should invest in silverite instead of the fragile grey steel, mm?" He said, giving Sabia a look. Sabia's eyes went wide, and she turned to look at her father in excitement.

"Silverite? Truly, Father?" She asked, her voice threatening to pitch into a squeal. The men laughed, and Eleanor sighed good naturedly.

"I had hoped for a daughter...I get one, and she is hardly a proper young lady. Swords and daggers and sparring, instead of dresses and tea and perfume!" She said in exasperation, but her eyes sparkled with love and amusement- it was an old running tease between mother and daughter. Loghain missed the affection though, and made a curt grunt of disagreement.

"It's good the girl knows how to handle a weapon. An Orlesian wouldn't have the decency to ask a woman if she could defend herself before attacking her," he said, his tone no longer easy going, and a dark shadow veiled his eyes. Bryce cleared his throat.

"And that's why my darling daughter knows her way with a sword. Isn't that right, pup?"

Sabia nodded, pushing her sodden wet curls off her neck, her cheeks flushed with delight and adrenaline. Eleanor motioned them to the door.

"Come, let's all get dried off and have a glass of mulled wine before supper," she said, earning the agreeable nods from everyone.

...

Sabia trudged into her room after arguing with her mother, who had insisted she dress in a gown for dinner. Sighing, she pulled off her armor and laid it out on the hearth before the fire to dry. She rummaged through her armoire, trying to find a dress that wasn't too extravagant or overly revealing, but it seemed her mother had known she would pick a modest, non flattering gown, and all of her simple favorite dresses were missing. She sighed and picked the plainest and most modest of the remaining gowns, scowling, because it was still fancy and revealing, cut from a deep emerald green silk, trimmed in black and gold brocade satin, and a plunging neckline that accompanied sleeves that would fall off her shoulders. A knock sounded at her door, and she hesitated.

"Who's there?" She asked.

"It's Anora. Might I come in, Sabia? I thought we'd arrive at dinner together," came the muffled reply from Loghain's daughter. Sabia hesitated again, looking at the muslin cloth that bound her chest and held the padding against her waist, then sighed.

"Yes, please, Anora."

Anora came into the room quietly, shutting the door. She blinked as she took in the sight of Sabia in her small clothes, her chest bound and her waist padded with a thick layer of wool, held in place by muslin cloth. Sabia scowled, but her wrath was the anger of an exasperated twenty year old woman, not annoyance at Anora's intrusion. Anora tilted her head, her golden braids- which were coiffed perfectly at the back of her head- catching the light of the fireplace. Her expression was confused.

"Sabia...Why are you wearing that... get up?" She asked after a few moments of awkward silence. Sabia said nothing, sliding the dress over her head and struggling to get her arms through the sleeves. Anora came over and tried to help, but the padding around Sabia's waist hindered the dress from going further.

"You'll have to take that wool padding off, Sabia. The dress won't fit otherwise," Anora said, lifting a brow at her companion's stubbornness.

Sabia sighed in defeat and unwrapped the muslin that held the wool around her waist. As it fell to the floor and the dress slid over Sabia's body, Anora blinked at the sudden appearance of a slender waist that had previously looked androgynous, and she lifted a brow at the loose fitting chest of Sabia's gown.

"Why on earth do you wear that, Sabia?" She asked, perplexed. Sabia reached back to fasten the hooks, and gave the other woman an imploring gaze. Anora sighed and moved to help Sabia lace up her bodice, trying to make the dress look presentable on the front, but it was rather hopeless- the silk looked as though it had deflated sadly on her front.

"It can't be salvaged, Sabia. It's too loose. You need to take the cloth off."

Sabia pressed her forehead against the post of her bed, clenching her fists and closing her eyes. She was silent for a moment, then pushed the loose chest of her dress down, removing the muslin cloth from her torso. Keeping her back to Anora, she moved to pull her shift and stays from her dresser and quickly put them on, sliding the top of the dress up. She was still as Anora helped her finish lacing up her back, then turned to face her companion, who blinked. Lady Cousland had gone from being slightly boyish, with a sturdy torso and modest chest to curvaceous, with a generous bosom and a supple waist curving out to wide hips. The curves were accentuated by the silks of her dress, and the red of her embarrassed flush were exaggerated by the dark green.

"Sabia...you..."

"Grew up and got my mother's figure. I know," Sabia replied testily. "I wear the padding and the muslin cloth because I don't want to be seen as an object of desire, or to lessen my respect I get from my father's men."

She continued as Anora opened her mouth to protest.

"Don't say that it wouldn't. You know all too well that curves can make a man's mind go blank, and become his focus. A man will toss aside all knowledge of a woman's intelligence and skill in favor of letting his gaze linger on her hips."

Anora sighed- Sabia was right, but she didn't understand it. She was not in court where she had to garner respect from nobles- she was the daughter of a Teyrn, and respect was a given. Sabia was eyeing Anora enviously.

"You're lucky. You are promised to Cailan, and the daughter of the Hero of River Dane," she said, her voice going soft as she mentioned the Teyrn. "Because of that, you are beloved and even though you have those curves and beauty, you are still listened to, and respected. If I showed up to spar without my padding and chest bound, my father's men would go easy on me, would treat me delicately, when all I want is to improve and hone my skill."

She tightened her mouth, her eyes glinting.

"Never mind that Rendon Howe would push even harder for an arrangement between me and his deplorable son, Nathaniel. Calling that hideous, horrible man Father? Maker help me, I'd rather become a cloistered Sister!"

She shuddered, and Anora stifled a laugh.

"On that, I do not blame you, but Arl Howe is not here, and it is just your family, and my father and myself. Surely you can be yourself around us?" She asked gently, putting a hand on Sabia's bare shoulder. Sabia flushed again.

"I don't wear dresses like this very often," she said, slipping her feet into flat green satin slippers, forgoing the shoes with heels- she was going to be a klutz enough in the dress as it was, no need to add to the already high chances of her falling on her face. "I most likely will fall on my face and embarrass myself even further in front of your father."

Anora cocked her head.

"Even further? What do you- Oh! You mean the sparring?" She asked, her eyebrows raised. Sabia nodded, rubbing at the tender spot on her waist where Loghain had hooked his leg- a tender spot a bruise would surely form overnight. Anora smiled gently.

"Don't think of that as an embarrassment. Father told me of that. The fact that you were able to hold your own the first few moves impressed him greatly. My father is also a general, and a well seasoned veteran, Sabia. No need to be ashamed of being beaten by a man who has held a sword longer than you've lived."

Sabia laughed a bit at that as Anora made a stab at her father's age, picking up her brush and combing out her stubborn hair. The coppery red tresses fell to her shoulders in careless waves that ended in tight curls. She swept the thick mane of hair over one shoulder, letting it rest against her slender throat. She sighed, but it wasn't as dejected as her earlier sighs had been- it was steeped in disappointment.

"It's not that I was beaten, it's that I got cocky and made a foolish mistake. Had I not been arrogant, I might have held out a few more moves. In any case, it was an honor, and a thrill. I haven't had a challenge like that in a long time. I guess I also deserved it for hitting him in the face with a snowball," she said, her cheeks flaming painfully again. Anora laughed gaily.

"He told me about that, and he seemed very amused by it- I only wish I had seen it myself- the hero of River Dane hit squarely in the face by a snowball!" Anora said, her eyes twinkling in mischief as she eyed Sabia's flushing cheeks. Sabia cursed to herself. She wished she could stop blushing- it seemed it was all she did whenever the Teyrn was around- be it physically or in conversation. Anora nodded knowingly to herself, but she couldn't help it.

"You...you fancy my father, don't you?" She blurted, grinning. Sabia gave a small squeal of horror and flung her brush as she flailed her arms, turning her back to Anora, sputtering.

"I...NO! Your father is just...he's a very important man...and...h-he is a very g-great hero! He's old enough to b-be my father! I d-don't FANCY him, I just admire h-his strength and w-what he's d-done for Ferelden, that's all!" She protested, wanting to lock herself in the washroom or to fling herself from the nearest window. Anora laughed again, but it was gentle, and she said nothing more on the subject. She held out her arm.

"Shall we make a glorious entrance, then, Lady Cousland?" She asked, pride coloring her voice.

Sabia took her arm, and looked at the pair of them in the mirror. Anora was right- they would make an entrance, alright. The two of them were different as night and day- Anora in her pale pink gown that was almost scandalously revealing and flowing, trimmed in silver and white satin, her golden hair, beautifully milky cheeks and pale blue eyes gleaming, and Sabia in her almost modest dark green dress, her dark hair loose, cheeks ruddy and green eyes bright. Anora looked in the mirror as well, and made a face of approval that made Sabia think of a canary-eating cat, a small sound of satisfaction coming from her throat.

"Come, Sabia. Let's not keep the Teyrns waiting."

They made their way to the dining hall, and what servants that weren't assisting with dinner stopped to stare- Sabia had made a habit of concealing her figure since she had started growing into it, so she imagined it was a shock to the servants that she was indeed a woman under her armor. Having the daughter of the Teyrn of Gwaren, Prince Cailan's betrothed, at her side didn't help, either. Anora was a stunning woman, and though Sabia had been jealous of Anora's golden hair, blue eyes so like her father's, and the elegant way she carried herself , Sabia was glad Anora was there to outshine her and attract attention away from her.

A servant opened the door for them, and Sabia was relieved to see that is was just her parents, Fergus, and Teyrn Loghain. Apparently tonight was a small dinner, without the presence of the visiting Arls and Banns. Eleanor made a small sigh of contentment as she looked at Sabia's dress and loose hair. Bryce blinked, as did Fergus upon seeing Sabia's changed figure. Bryce recovered quickly enough, and he ignored it, ever the doting father that didn't want to acknowledge his youngest pup was grown. Fergus stared a few minutes more, then purposely hid his face behind his wine glass. Loghain had no reaction, save for a slightly lifted eyebrow before setting expression back to a neutral one. Sabia looked everywhere but at the seat to her father's left, not wanting to meet the Teyrn's eyes. Anora steered Sabia to the end of the table, sitting next to her father. Sabia sat next to her quietly, her skirts making a soft hushing sound as they swirled about her legs. She struggled not to squirm- she hated wearing dresses. Eleanor beamed at the two, and Bryce smiled as well.

"Such a beautiful pair of young women. I am surprised you didn't bring a trail of helplessly enthralled young men in your wake," Bryce chuckled. Fergus laughed for Sabia's benefit.

"They didn't dare follow for fear of being beaten mercilessly by Sabie's blade. Isn't that right, sister?" He asked slyly. Sabia gave him a grateful smile and returned the laugh, hoping it didn't sound too forced.

"Of course. Provided they didn't witness my utter defeat earlier in the courtyard at the hands of the hero who was more than a match for my meager skills," she said sweetly. She didn't know why she said it, the words honeyed and aimed at the Teyrn. Was it the confidence of being called beautiful, having Anora at her side, or was it her trying to make up for pelting the Teyrn with a snowball? She wasn't sure, but the words slid from her lips like an arrow from a bow. Regardless of the motive, they had the desired effect. Loghain laughed, turning that overwhelmingly piercing gaze on her.

"Your skills are far from meager, Lady Cousland. Another year or so of training, and you could be a prize fighter. Good enough to be a lieutenant or a commander, I dare say," he said bluntly. Eleanor rubbed her temple, sighing.

"Your Grace, I beg you not to give her any ideas!" She said, huffing. Loghain looked at the Teyrna, his expression amused.

"And why not? Women can fight just as well as any man," he said, and Sabia felt a flush of pride and pleasure in her chest at his words. Bryce nodded in agreement, but he frowned in annoyance.

"Better to have her be a soldier where we understand what we fight, rather than something else," he said darkly. The occupants of the table turned to look at Bryce curiously, Fergus pausing in the middle of cutting a piece of boar, Anora with a napkin to her chin, Sabia pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth. Even Loghain stopped, his wine glass near his lips, lifting a brow. Bryce scowled.

"Duncan said he was coming to visit next time he came near Highever," he said, his mouth set in a firm line, his eyes focused on Sabia, causing her to wonder why his attention was focused on her as he made the statement. Loghain's lean face darkened, his mouth twisting in a scowl.

"Grey Wardens. I don't see why Maric trusts them so damned much. They have their own agenda. Don't tell me he's got an eye on someone at the castle?" He asked, his tone dangerous. Bryce shook his head.

"Not that I know of. Duncan knows better than to impose by trying to recruit Fergus, and he hasn't met Sabia. I won't let my youngest become a Grey Warden," he said vehemently.

Loghain made a grunt of approval and went back to drinking his wine. Anora and Sabia exchanged glances and went back to eating quietly. Fergus rolled his shoulder a bit and changed the subject to the matter of weapons, nudging it towards the persuasion of getting both himself and Sabia new silverite weapons for fighting. Sabia jumped into the conversation eagerly, and the subject slowly went to tactics, both one-on-one combat and war strategies. Anora and Eleanor were quiet, listening politely, taking in what they heard out of necessity- intelligent women in Ferelden never turned down the opportunity to listen to combat tactics when many still feared Orlesian intrusion. Loghain and Bryce contributed the most to the conversation, but the points that Fergus and Sabia interjected brought a few moments of excited debate between them all.

After the last of dessert had been eaten and the mulled wine was nothing more than a red stain in the glasses, Anora and Eleanor stood and excused themselves for the evening. Anora looked at Sabia inquisitively, as though asking if she would come with her. Fergus made a pleading face, as they were still discussing the challenges of marksmanship from horseback. Sabia bit her lip and smiled sheepishly at Anora.

"If you don't mind, Anora, I'd like to stay and continue this talk," she said, crinkling her brow in apology. Anora laughed and patted her shoulder.

"Not to worry. I will get enough beauty sleep for the both of us then," she teased. Sabia laughed in return.

"Like you need it, my Lady," she said. Anora smiled knowingly and after kissing her father's cheek as a good night, she swept from the room like a princess. Loghain shook his head.

"Not even formally engaged to Cailan and she's already got the presence of a Queen," he said. Sabia couldn't tell if he was proud or sad by his tone. Bryce looked at Sabia carefully.

"Sabia, I think maybe you should go to bed, my dear."

Sabia blinked and set down her glass of water.

"Father, I was hoping to continue the talk of archery and hunting, if I might?" She asked hopefully. Bryce reached over and patted her hand.

"I have matters to discuss with Loghain. Fergus will be heading off to bed, too, I should think," he said, giving Fergus a look, who groaned, but got up, bowing to Loghain and his father.

"As you wish, Father. Good evening, Teyrn Mac Tir," he said before leaving the room. Sabia sighed, but kissed her father's cheek, then swept into a deep curtsy, bowing her head at Loghain.

"Have a good evening and sleep well, mi'lord," she said. Loghain inclined his head at her, the corner of his mouth curling slightly in a smile.

"Perhaps the next time we duel, you might show me your odd stance, Lady Cousland," he said evenly. Sabia nearly stumbled as she straightened up, his words taking her by surprise. She recovered quickly enough, and nodded.

"I would be honored, mi'lord," she said softly. His smile widened a bit more.

"Maybe even this old man can learn a thing or two from you," he said, earning a laugh from Bryce, who shook his head.

"Careful, Loghain. Give my girl an idea and two swords, and she's as dangerous as an Antivan woman," he said, affection coloring his voice. Loghain looked her over, and she tried very hard not to flush, but it crept up painfully on her neck anyway.

"Is that why Howe is having to try so hard, then?" He asked, cynicism coloring his voice. Sabia set her mouth in a firm line, keeping quiet, but making her opinion of Howe and his son perfectly clear, making Loghain burst into laughter.

"And there you have it. There's a lady who knows what she doesn't want!" He said in amusement, causing Sabia to relax a bit. Bryce sighed with weary affection at his daughter.

"Finding a match for this one will be harder than killing a dragon single-handedly, I'm afraid."

Sabia tossed her head in mock indignation.

"I don't NEED to be married, Father. I can join the military."

"Anything's better than joining the Grey Wardens," Loghain said. Sabia cocked her head. Again with his opposition of the Grey Wardens. She wondered at it, but she said nothing.

"Anything's better than having to call Howe my father-in-law," she said acidly, folding her arms over her chest. "With that, I bid you goodnight."

She swept from the room in a whisper of silk, leaving her father and Loghain in bemused silence. Loghain let out a loud bark of laughter at her audacity and at imagining the look on Rendon's face if he'd been there to hear that remark- he would have paid fifty sovereigns to see that.

"You're girl's got a mind of her own, that's for sure," he remarked. Bryce winced.

"It's going to get her in trouble one day," he replied softly, worry in his voice. Loghain didn't want to agree, but after thinking about Howe's...simpering and manipulative nature, he realized Bryce was right, and he nodded.

"Well, just keep her sharp tongue away from Howe, and she should be fine. I honestly do hope to spar with her again. She's got promise as a fighter," he said, stroking his chin in thought. Bryce nodded, his mouth pursed in pride.

"That she does," he said proudly. "All she needs is a a few more years of training." Loghain poured some wine in his glass and took a long drink of it, leaning back in his chair.

"The girl might even be good enough to have me yielding one day."