A/N: I've rewritten this part about four times now. I couldn't get it to "flow" right the first few times until I tossed in a minor character and made him more flirtatious. You'll see who he is when you read. If he seems a little off cannon it's because it was done on purpose.
Also, I always found it annoying that the biggest reaction you got out of anyone in the game for you playing a noble was "have I seen you at the Landsmeet?" One would think that being the son/daughter of a Teyrn, second family only to the king, and potentially one who might be the next Teyrn of Highever, you'd have met your future peers face to face by then, be acquainted with them at the very least. I know they couldn't expand on it in game due to story mechanics (it had to work with all the origins, after all), but since this is my take on it, I'm tweaking it to my liking. So there! Nyah!
A/N: (3/5/2010) Changed a small bit during Aedan's PoV to match things in Part 8 and Part 3
A/N: (3/20/2010) Spelling and grammar changes made. Thank you Betas!
A/N: (4/24/2010) Punctuation and grammar changes made.
A/N: (6/18/2010) Minor phrase changes, capitalization changed on some words for consistency.
Part 6: Friends of the Hawk
Kallian never felt more uncomfortable in her life. She was seated apart from Duncan so she couldn't take shelter in his shadow. They sat her near the head of one of the side tables. Seats normally reserved for sons and daughters of Banns or other such "important" sorts. Not for an elf.
She could feel the looks cast in her direction. Caught the occasional curious murmurs. One of them gave a full disapproving look right down his nose at her. Being seated farther away from the head, he no doubt disliked being placed in a "lesser" spot than one of her kind.
To make matters worse, Oralyn found a dress for her to wear. Kallian tried to convince her that the clothes she slept in were good enough, but she wasn't having any of that. Unable to duck out of dinner, Kallian had no choice but to wear it. It wasn't made of silks, but it was just as fine as her wedding dress had been. The dress fit loose about her chest and tight about her waist. She took a hit to her feminine ego when she learned the dress was Oralyn's . . . when she was a few winters younger. They had to add a longer skirt to the ensemble as her legs were longer than Oralyn's had been.
Now she sat with an ill fitted dress in an even more ill fitted seat with a bruised rear, eating a meal with humans she didn't know in a castle with nobles she didn't serve. Kallian did her best to keep her head down and just concentrate on the meal in front of her. Unfortunately, the man next to her had other ideas.
"So, I'm to understand that you are the Grey Warden recruit?"
She glanced over at him, not looking at his face, but at his clothes. They were fine, tailor made, with gold embroidery. That was all she had to see to tell her what she needed to know about him. Kallian quietly nodded her head then prodded her fork at the remaining food on her plate.
"Well, I have to say I am rather surprised . . ."
Ah, here we go, she thought. Here is where he says he didn't know we elves could become Wardens. About how none of the elves he knows could even wield a wooden ladle let alone a blade. And where I haul off and slug him, causing a scene and get both Duncan and myself tossed out of the castle. This is exactly why I wanted to avoid dinner.
" . . . I didn't know they recruited women as beautiful as you."
The prodding with her fork stopped and her eyes widened a tad.
Oh, sod, no. He's not trying to . . .
"Gives a man some encouragement to try and impress the Warden enough into getting recruited, knowing that someone like yourself will be there."
. . . flirt . . . with me . . .
She looked up at him slowly to be greeted by a flirtatious smile. He had her stumped for a moment. She had been so caught up in the notion that any noble she'd come across would immediately treat her lesser than she is that she had neglected to account for this particular reaction. This noble was possibly one of the kind that didn't mind what he flirted with as long as it was pretty and willing. Kallian stammered for a second.
He gave a short chuckle at her reaction, "My apologies, my lady. I've not properly introduced myself. I am Dairren, son of Bann Loren and Lady Landra. I am honored to be able to speak to you."
Inwardly, she flailed at the advance and was ready to quickly cut him off at the knees, but something else in her put a wall up in front of that idea. It wasn't as if she didn't know how to playfully flirt with a man, far from it. The noble next to her was seeing her woman side first instead of her elven. She should be taking advantage of this, not knocking it away. Kallian had idiotically shut the door on the chance before with Lord Aedan. Maybe she could get something out of Lord Dairren here instead.
She recalled in her mind the woman she ran into in the Denerim market once. Kallian had just survived her twelfth winter and her parents trusted her enough to try and find little odd jobs on her own. The woman she ran into wasn't a noble, but she was rich. Kallian offered to carry the packages she had bundled in her arms. For the rest of that day she followed the woman, fetching this or that, carrying what the woman bought. She even gave her opinion as to if the red dress or green dress went better with the woman's hair. Other than being nice and other than tipping her two whole silver for the day there was one other thing Kallian always remembered about her. Her voice.
It was smooth, silky, and always sounded coy. She listened as man after man . . . and she was certain one or two women . . . responded positively to her voice and manner of speech. She'd laugh lyrically, even if the joke or flirtation was horrible, then later wink at Kallian as the laugh would shave a few more coin off the price of an item. After that day she never saw the woman again, but when she was alone she'd try to practice how the woman walked, moved, and spoke. Only being twelve her voice didn't have the depth back then, but now . . .
Kallian gave a small coy smile, smoothed and deepened her voice, and tilted her head just slightly, "I am Kallian Tabris. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord."
She put her fork down and offered a limp-wristed hand to him and saw his eyes light up at her encouraging response. As expected he took her hand, inclined his head and brought her hand up to his lips.
"Oh, no, I assure you," his eyes never left hers. "The pleasure is all mine."
He kissed the back of her hand and Kallian had to fight the clenched fist that had become her stomach. It wasn't as if Lord Dairren was ugly. He had a boyishly handsome face, in fact, and he certainly wasn't the brute Vaughan had been. However, he was still a noble and could potentially be too forceful in his advances.
She had to remind herself that this was just a mummer's play. A little act to get what she wanted out of Lord Dairren while losing nothing in return. There was nothing that she had to promise him. It was a game and she intended to win it.
Aedan had been talking amiably with the Grey Warden. He'd gotten over his hero worship earlier and asked him things he'd always been curious about. What did Weisshaupt Fortress look like? What lands had Duncan traveled before he came to Ferelden? What was the most difficult thing for a Grey Warden to face?
To this last question Duncan seemed hesitant to answer. He started off by saying something about the nature of people, but was cut short by his father calling for a toast. He gave an uplifting speech to King, country, the Maker, and gave recognition to their esteemed guests. It was during the drinking of the toast that his glance caught view of the elf and Dairren. The looks and subtle gestures they gave one another spoke of more than just being "friendly" to one another. He smothered down the churning of anger in him as he wondered if she did have something personal against him. Dairren, being a noble himself, surely couldn't have charmed her in such a short time. If Aedan's theory of her having something against nobles in general was correct, then she should - at the very least - be giving him the cold shoulder.
This wasn't the case and Aedan's eyebrows furrowed as Dairren leaned in close to her ear and she responded with a chuckle hidden behind a hand. The only other option he could think of was that Dairren hadn't told her yet that he was Bann Loren's son. However, all an observant person had to do was look at his clothes and know he was no commoner.
He must have stared overly too long because her eyes flitted upwards to catch him watching. The smile she wore briefly faded and she gave Aedan an icy glare. The moment passed and she was back to leaning in toward Dairren to whisper something in return. Aedan slowly tapped a finger on the table in irritation.
"Warden," he looked briefly at Duncan. "What can you tell me about your recruit there?"
Duncan paused with the goblet half way to his lips, "About Kallian?"
"Yes," he tapped his finger a couple more times. "You said you found her in Denerim. Can you tell me about that?"
"I . . .," the Warden lowered his drink back down to the table slowly, " . . . am sorry, but I am afraid it is not my right to tell such a thing. It is a personal matter for her and, as such, only she will be able to tell you that tale. Why? Is something wrong?"
He looked at Duncan more than at her and spoke somewhat quietly, "Does . . . she have some personal grudge against the Couslands?"
"Against your family?" the arch of his eyebrow and mild confusion in his voice calmed Aedan some.
Duncan turned his head to look over at the side table where the elf sat. Both she and Dairren were leaning in toward one another. Kallian delicately held the napkin to her mouth as if it were a lady's kerchief. They apparently had one another's full attention and didn't notice Duncan's scrutiny. He could have sworn he heard a small grumbled sigh come from the Warden. When he looked back at Aedan he looked a little concerned.
"No, she holds no specific grudge against your family," he said. "I am going to venture a guess that she treated you less than politely? If she has, then I do apologize."
Aedan shook his head slightly after a moment, "No, there's no need for you to apologize for it, Warden. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't reading too much into things."
Duncan inclined his head once, his concerned look fading, "If anything, I can tell you she has legitimate reasons for her opinions. She is perhaps a tad misguided, but her pain is a bit fresh. I can only hope that by the time we get to Ostagar some of those wounds have healed. We will be fighting by King Cailan's side along with many others, soldiers and nobles alike, after all."
"I've met His Highness," Aedan said. "He's a kind enough man, but I don't think even he would put up with that sort of . . . treatment."
"No, I suspect not," Duncan took up his goblet again. "Thankfully, there will be time on the road for her to contemplate things more."
"When will you be leaving, by the way?"
"Once I finally get to speak to Ser Gilmore and have given him time to consider the offer . . . we should be leaving day after tomorrow at the earliest."
Aedan relaxed back into the conversation, his worry now ebbed. It still didn't explain why she was being so "chummy" with Dairren, but as long as Aedan or his family wasn't being targeted, he'd accept Kallian Tabris's outlook. Though another bit of irritation hit him as he realized his earlier assessment of her was correct. She did clean up rather nicely in a dress. Another one hit him as he saw the dress was the one he'd given Oralyn several years ago. He shoved down the spikes of irritation hard. He consoled himself with the thought that Duncan and Kallian wouldn't be at the castle for much longer and he'd have more important things to worry about by then. He doubted he'd see the elf ever again after that.
She had realized part way through the conversation that Lord Dairren was a little tipsy from the wine being served. That suited Kallian just fine and it made it much easier to lure the topic in the right direction. He tried to ask her about the Grey Wardens, but she wasn't able to tell him much. Dairren wasn't able to tell her anything new, but she did confirm a few things.
From him she learned that the woman seated next to the Teyrn at the head table was the Teyrna, Eleanor Cousland. That the other older woman at Eleanor's side was Lady Landra, his mother. The younger woman trying to get the child next to her to eat properly was Oriana, wife of Fergus Cousland, the family's eldest son.
Fergus had been sent ahead with Highever's forces to Ostagar while the rest of them - that being Arl Howe, Teyrn Cousland, and himself as the Teyrn's squire - would go with Arl Howe's men from Amaranthine. Provided they would show up soon. The Teyrna would go to his family's estate with Lady Landra, leaving Aedan Cousland completely in charge. Dairren had guessed it was due to the murmurings he heard that the people favored Aedan as a new Teyrn over Fergus. Not that it was something Kallian really wanted to hear about, but she was letting him ramble.
"Of course," he was saying. "If you ask any lass of age in Highever who they favored they'd immediately name Aedan. Not . . . for his rulership qualities, however."
Dairren gave a coy grin and Kallian raised an eyebrow, "Oh, really now?"
"Oh, yes, really," he swirled the wine in his goblet. "Makes it difficult for the rest of us lads to provide any sort of competition when every fair lass in Highever already pines for any sort of time they can get with Lord Aedan."
Kallian tried not to have her lip twitch in disgust and wasn't sure if she succeeded. Even if it had, Dairren seemed to not notice and leaned in to utter to her.
"Though, if I may be so bold, I think those fair lasses pale in comparison to your exotic beauty. One moment with you is certainly worth a thousand evenings with any number of them."
"Oh, my," Kallian forced herself to give a light lyrical chuckle. "But you do know how to flatter a woman, Lord Dairren."
It was then that she noticed behind Dairren's shoulder an elven lad not much older than eleven winters. He carried a tray with yet another goblet of wine on it probably intended for her tipsy suitor. Not an unusual event, but what caught her attention was that the lad was staring more at her than he was where he was going. Because of it Dairren's elbow connected with the tray and the goblet tipped over, spilling wine all over the tray and onto the sleeve of his fine shirt. He stood up in natural reaction, holding his arm out away from the rest of him. The elven lad, looked wide eyed and horrified, his mouth working, but no words coming out. Others nearby turned their heads in their direction, the clank and chair scuffing along the ground drawing looks.
"Wonderful," Dairren uttered flatly, looking at his sleeve in dismay.
"I'm sorry!" the lad squeaked. "I didn't mean it, milord!"
Kallian gritted her teeth and clenched a fist at the cloth of her skirt. She wasn't certain how he was going to react to this, but she did know for certain that if he brought harm to the lad in any way, shape, or form she would have to strangle him. To the demons with it landing her in the castle dungeon, she wasn't going to abide him punishing someone for a simple accident. Her fist loosened, though, as he spoke again.
"Calm down, now, calm down," Lord Dairren gave a slight wry grin. "Just an accident. I was well on the trail to spilling wine on myself eventually this evening as it was."
A woman at the head table gave an audible sigh. It was Lady Landra, "Honestly, Dairren just how much wine have you had?"
"Enough to know . . ." he made a show of putting the goblet he had in his hand on the table away from himself, ". . . when I have had too much, Mother Dear."
It earned a collective chuckle from those close by and with it any tension in the air dissipated. The lad looked around, realizing he wasn't about to be punished. He still held the tray with the tipped over goblet and the wine threatening to spill further. Oralyn, who seemed to come out of nowhere, rescued him. She handed Lord Dairren a slightly damp cloth and took the tray from the lad, shooing him quickly away.
"I do apologize, my lord," as she spoke another servant seemed to materialize from nowhere and spirited the tray away with expert ease. "We can easily make sure that stain doesn't set in if you wish, though we'd need the shirt right away."
"Thank you ever so kindly," he looked at Kallian with another wry smile. "Well, milady, it seems I am being called away to tend to my wound. Will there be a chance of seeing you... later, perhaps?"
She glanced about the dining hall as others were beginning to slowly, but surely, excuse themselves for the eve.
"Perhaps," she looked at him again with a small smile. "On the morrow. I could stand to get some air and early rest tonight."
A little bit of disappointment shaded his eyes, but he kept the smile. Dairren reached down to take up her hand and kiss the back of it again, "As you will, milady. Tomorrow, at dinner at the very least?"
"At the very least, yes."
"Goodnight, then," he bowed his head and he walked away with a pleasant grin.
Oralyn stayed behind a brief moment, seeming to shift uncomfortably where she stood and looked oddly at Kallian. A look of confusion and worry seemed to pass over her face, but before Kallian could question her she headed off after Lord Dairren.
The next morning Kallian slowly got her armor on feeling as sore as she had ever been. The travel from Denerim to Highever, the training with Duncan, and having stayed up way too many hours in a stretch the previous day had worn terribly on her. She wanted to just lay there all day, but there was this odd caterwauling coming from somewhere that woke her up. The one servant that came into the room and headed back out didn't seem panicked or overly worried about the noise so Kallian took her time waking, stretching, and just generally trying to make sense of everything.
Oralyn had come to her last night with the eleven year old elven boy peeking out from behind her. He'd wanted to apologize about the mess he made and explain to Kallian that he just couldn't get over that an elven Grey Warden was in their presence. Kallian said that she wasn't a Warden yet, but that didn't seem stop him from looking at her in wonderment. In hindsight, she felt a bit ashamed at the way he was looking at her. Ashamed that, perhaps she wasn't exactly living up to the grand reputation of a Grey Warden. She wasn't even close.
Then Oralyn had words of her own to share. She had asked what her intentions were towards Lord Dairren and how it could be that she'd obviously treat Lord Aedan so differently. Her questions hit a little too close for Kallian's liking and she muddled through her explanation with a simple statement that she wouldn't be around the castle or even Highever for much longer. If she had a single night's worth of passion with Lord Dairren then so be it. It wasn't as if they'd have the first illicit rendezvous in all of Fereldan. She knew it didn't answer all of Oralyn's question or was even being truthful, but it seemed to at least ward her away for the night.
She headed out of the servant's quarters to see that it was already midday. The caterwauling was still going on, but outside of the quarters it was paired now with audible barking. Quickly recalling her close call with the Mabari Warhound, she walked and peeked around. Sure enough the noises were coming from the direction of the kitchen. Kallian paused as she saw the Teyrna come around the corner. She didn't see Kallian at all and walked in the opposite direction she was coming from. The Teyrna was fretting with her hands, shaking her head and Kallian could hear her utter to herself.
"Why we ever let him have that troublesome hound..."
The hollering and barking continued down the hallway and Kallian couldn't help but grin slightly. If she was guessing correctly, her fellow midnight snacker was up to something. Kallian walked forward enough to reach the corner and after a last glance at the retreating lady's back, peered into the hall. The hollering and barking was certainly coming from the kitchen. Kallian pondered a second about checking it out until she heard the Teyrna again.
"Ser Gilmore!"
Kallian's head snapped back down the hallway as she heard the one name Duncan had mentioned to her before. She saw Eleanor Cousland down at the far end of the hall walk up to a tall, well built man with red hair. He was a warrior, of that there was no doubt. The sword and shield strapped to his back and scaled armor said as much. There was also a familiarity in his posture that Kallian had seen before. In irritation she realized it was the same sort of posture Lord Aedan Cousland carried. The posture of a trained soldier.
She couldn't hear what the Teyrna and Ser Gilmore were speaking of exactly. She was too far to hear over the din of screeching and barking. However, Lady Cousland pointed a finger back down the hallway, obviously to the ruckus. Ser Gilmore nodded his head, raised his hands in some form of reassurance to her, and then crossed his forearms over his heart in a salute and bowed his head. The Teyrna continued on her way and went out of sight around another corner. Ser Gilmore turned and headed straight in Kallian's direction.
Well, she thought, here's a chance to meet the man that just might be a fellow recruit.
She kept herself where she was, glancing toward the noise on occasion until he got closer. Gilmore raised his head as he spotted her and she saw the brief confusion in his eyes. Kallian was a female elf wearing leather armor within the halls of Cousland Castle. Questionable by any human standards, but apparently logic overcame things and the confusion disappeared when he got close.
"Ah, you must be the Grey Warden recruit everyone mentioned," he eyed her from head to toe as he came to a stop in front of her.
Though normally not prone to enjoying such scrutiny, Kallian didn't mind it at all this time. He wasn't leering at her and she figured that he wanted to get a measure of her for the same reasons she wanted to get a measure of him.
"That would be me," Kallian nodded and quirked a small smile. "And ya be Ser Gilmore."
"I . . . am," he sounded a little surprised. "You know of me?"
"Well, I heard the Teyrna there call your name out just now," she smile more and nodded. "And Duncan mentioned ya name so I've heard of ya. If she hadn't hollered out like that I wouldn't have know ya from King Cailan."
He laughed lightly at that, "Then it's well and good that the Teyrna waved me down then. Keeps the introductions short and you don't start unnecessarily bowing for no reason."
Kallian smiled even more. She was already liking him.
"I'll try ta refrain from kneeling before ya, then," Kallian said, bringing a chuckle out of him. "Have ya spoken ta Duncan yet?"
"Not as yet," he clasped his hands behind him. "I'm supposed to speak to him later this afternoon. Have to admit that I'm both excited and nervous about it."
"I can imagine, but I wouldn't worry too much about talking ta him," Kallian crossed her arms and leaned on the nearby wall. "If ya can handle talking to a Teyrn and Teyrna on a daily basis, then speaking at Duncan should be a snap for ya."
"Thank you," he replied, giving a more relaxed smile. "That's very encouraging. I-"
There was a sudden crash from down the hall, a cacophony of barking and yet more shrill hollering. Both of them winced at the noise.
Ser Gilmore gave a small sigh, "It seems my lord's Mabari Warhound got into the kitchen larder again and the head cook isn't pleased one bit."
To emphasize his words the hollering voice raised in volume enough that they could hear her clear through the closed door.
"I'll skin the damnable beast myself, I will!"
Ser Gilmore groaned, then gave an apologetic look at Kallian, "Would love to speak to you more, but if I don't calm her down enough, someone's head is going to roll. Mind if I find you later? I definitely have questions."
"Wouldn't mind that one bit," Kallian nodded at him. "Might not have many answers for ya, though."
He smiled again and shook his head, "Just speaking to you should be enough. See you then!"
He gave a short bow of his head to her that she returned in kind. As he turned to leave she called at him, "Good luck!"
Gilmore glanced back with a look as if to say thanks and that he was going to need it. She watched until he reached the door. He paused, rolled his eyes to the sky once in silent prayer, took a very deep breath and headed in.
Kallian chuckled once and shook her head at the amusing situation. She wasn't about to get into a bout between the Mabari Warhound, Angus, and the irate human head cook, Nan. Last thing she needed was to be assumed to be a servant and end up helping with cleaning things up. The best thing was to stay out of Gilmore's way.
Pushing herself off the wall she began walking to try and get some of the kinks out of her muscles. As she did she quietly wished that she didn't know that Gilmore was a noble. She'd found that out through some small talks with a few servants. Though a sterner voice in her mind was telling her that it shouldn't matter.
As Duncan told you, once someone becomes a Warden what they were before doesn't matter anymore. Regardless if Ser Gilmore is noble born or not, if he becomes a Grey Warden then he'll be the same as you. So you best get along with him now, idiot.
She glowered a bit as she berated herself and somehow imagined Duncan somewhere nodding in approval.
Some time later Kallian found herself up on the battlements just above the courtyard. She leaned forward on her elbows on the stone and marveled a little bit at how quiet it was. All the soldiers, wagons, horses, and other such sundries of war had been cleared out. The lack of bustle made her think that it wasn't even the same castle they had entered. A breeze blew by and she inhaled deeply. There was a tell tale coolness in the air that told of rain in the days to come. She could only guess that by tonight or tomorrow morning that the skies which had been only lightly dusted with clouds would disappear and the seasonal rains would begin in earnest.
"Oh, there you are."
She turned to look and smiled as she saw Ser Gilmore.
"And here I was just making my rounds," he approached and stood next to her. "Wasn't expecting you up here."
"Wasn't expecting ta be up here either," she turned her eyes to look around the courtyard again. "Just sort of wandered here. Seems a nice enough spot ta just stay out of the way."
He turned and put his hands on the battlement walls to lean on them and looked into the courtyard himself, "Not used to castle life I take it?"
She shook her head slowly, "Not quite the normal thing for me, no. How did things in the kitchen go?"
He gave a wry grin, "It luckily resolved itself. Seems there were large rats in the larder and milord's warhound either found or chased them in there. The rats are dead, the warhound is a hero, and the head cook had to begrudgingly accept it."
Kallian chuckled, but before she could state anything further she saw movement in the courtyard below. There were two figures, one man, and a familiar four-footed one. She started to smile, but then her mind caught up to what her eyes were really seeing. She wasn't too certain why it was that she never put it together in her head before now, but she kicked herself for not trying to guess who "milord" was in the phrase "milord's warhound". Kallian had made the hasty assumption that it belonged to the Teyrn. Why else would the hound be allowed to wander about the castle and not be in a kennel? To her dismay, the man was ... him ... and Angus was following him obediently, barking excitedly as he threw a stick he had in his hand across the yard.
Her shoulders slumped some and she put her chin in her hand, mumbling, "Somehow . . . this depresses me."
Ser Gilmore eyed her with a quirked eyebrow, "It depresses you the matter was resolved?"
"Eh? Oh, nono, not that," she motioned her head to the pair below. "That."
Gilmore peered down for a moment, then eyed her again, "Well, it is easy to get jealous of anyone who has their own Mabari Warhound."
Kallian grunted once and nodded. She left unsaid that she probably wouldn't be as jealous if it wasn't Lord Aedan, specifically, that Angus belonged to.
"You know, I need to ask," he leaned forward the same as her with his elbows keeping him propped up. "I had heard from some of the servants that you're staying with them and not in a guest room. That it was done at your request. I have to admit I'm curious as to why that is."
Her eyebrows furrowed a little and she pinched her lips together. She had to wonder just what else the servants had been saying about her.
He continued, "I'll understand if you don't care to answer it, but I'd rather not go on things based on rumor and assumptions."
She looked at him then. His head was lowered down closer to her own height so she could see clearly that there was no accusation in his eyes, only worry and concern. What that worry and concern was specifically for, she didn't know, but the look was genuine.
Kallian sighed and looked back down into the courtyard as she answered, "In part . . . I wouldn't have been too comfortable in a fancy room like that. Silks and feather down pillows might sound nice ta most, but I would have felt awkward. Awkward enough ta not get any sleep. I be used ta straw beds and livin' in the same space with at least two others. Alienage living might not be the best, but it be what I'm used ta."
Ser Gilmore nodded his head slowly, "I suppose I can understand that. But you say that's only part?"
"Well... yes... part," she twisted her lip some, hesitant to say more, then she saw someone else enter the courtyard. She stiffened seeing who it was and then quickly ducked behind the battlement wall. She sat herself on the floor with the stone at her back.
Ser Gilmore blinked a few times down at her, glancing into the courtyard, then at her again, "Something... wrong?"
Kallian let out a slight exasperated sigh, "It be Lord Dairren."
He blinked again, then went about removing the sword scabbard and shield from his back, and joined her on the floor, "I . . . was under the impression that you and Lord Dairren were . . . getting along rather well?"
"Let me guess. Servants tell ya about that as well?" she grumbled.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Gilmore gave a short grin. "One would think with as much that's needed to be done around here that there wouldn't be time for rumor or gossiping, yet there it is."
"Should have guessed they'd do as such," Kallian ran her hand through her hair and huffed a sigh. "I was getting along rather quite well with him at dinner last night... maybe a little too well. Wanted to avoid talking to him again until dinner tonight if I can help it. Not that I don't want ta talk to him, I just feel more comfortable speaking with him with other people around."
"Ah," Gilmore nodded a little. "Lady's prerogative. I don't think anyone can blame you for that."
Kallian quirked an eyebrow, "That sort of thing apply to us elves, too?"
He smiled a bit, "A lady is a lady, as my father would say. Doesn't matter what they happen to be, any woman has more prerogatives in a day than a man can have in his entire lifetime."
Kallian couldn't help but laugh, but cut herself short as to not be too loud. She brought it down to a chuckle and looked at Ser Gilmore. He kept the smile for a moment, but then looked a little more serious.
"Look, I won't lie to you," he shifted a bit. Sitting as he was couldn't have been entirely comfortable. "I've asked here and there about both you and Duncan. It was purely out of curiosity, you understand. I especially started to inquire about things when I heard that the Grey Warden wanted to speak to me for possible recruitment. What I heard of Duncan was fairly much straight forward. What I heard of you, however…"
Ser Gilmore hesitated a bit and Kallian sighed, "Let me guess. That bad?"
"Well… no," he tilted his head some. "It seems no one really knows what to make of you. Some of them say you have an accent as thick as a sailor's while others say you speak like any other Fereldan would. Then I hear account of you having manners befitting a noblewoman, yet I've heard disturbing grumblings about you being less than civil toward Lord Aedan."
Kallian shrunk into herself a bit and looked away some.
He quickly continued and with a bit of a smile in his voice, "All I'm really saying is that you have the gossip hens rather quite confused. Which I'd rather congratulate you for and not admonish you over it. That and . . . "
When he paused she looked back over at him again. He was smiling, but his eyes still carried that worry.
"… and I'd rather find things out from you directly instead of going by second, third, and fourth hand information. I don't mean any offense by any of it."
She eyed him for a good score of seconds, then leaned her head back on the stone, speaking rather quietly, "Not offended. I'm… relieved."
"Relieved?"
"That you're wanting to ask and not just assume things," she quirked a grin and looked over at him slightly. "So… go ahead, ask away. I won't hold back anything. I swear it."
"Wait, let me get this straight," Dairren looked at him in complete bafflement. "She's been in the castle a full two days and you haven't tried to seduce her?"
Aedan glowered a bit as he took the stick from Angus's maw and tossed it solidly across the courtyard again. The warhound bounded after it with full gusto. Even after having his little "adventure" in the kitchen larder he still had quite a bit of coal in the fire. He hoped the game of fetch would get him to settle down. It wasn't the reason for his glower, though.
Dairren continued, "A woman with her looks and poise? I mean the dress was certainly borrowed, but it fit her well enough, if you get me. You sure you aren't coming down with an illness or something?"
Aedan sighed, "I am not ill nor have I gone mad. I just don't think she is as fantastic as you're making her out to be."
"We are talking about the same woman here, right?" he arched an eyebrow. "The elven Grey Warden recruit, Kallian, yes?"
"Yes," Aedan responded without hesitation, he tossed the stick again. "I think you need to be leery of that woman, Dairren. She's not fond of us nobles, yet she's treating you rather friendly like."
Dairren straightened the cuffs on his sleeves, "Well, perhaps I just simply happen to strike her fancy. Perhaps, for once, a delicate morsel has landed my way first instead of yours."
"This isn't a competition, you know," he glanced at him before taking the stick from Angus.
"Says the man who landed both of Bann Quin's daughters last festival causing both of Arl Wulff's sons to take you to task at the tourney," Dairren clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You were lucky the bouts were only to first blood otherwise you would have been dead twice over."
Aedan grunted as he threw the stick, "Don't remind me. The time spent with Tari and Marrisa wasn't quite worth the beating."
"And you even remembered their names," he said with an incredulous tone. "See, this is exactly why it is a competition with you about."
He looked flatly at Dairren, "I thought we were talking about Kallian Tabris, not me."
Dairren held a hand up, "Alright, alright. Easing off. But I still don't see how you wouldn't or couldn't…"
His voice trailed off and Aedan looked at him as he was trying to wrestle the stick away from Angus.
"Ah… I see," he nodded, apparently coming to some conclusion. "It's because of Iona… isn't it?"
Aedan kept his voice neutral, "What about Iona?"
"Please, must I actually answer that?" Dairren quirked an eyebrow at him. "I knew it the moment Mother said we were taking Iona with us that you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation."
Stick finally in hand he held on to it a few moments, looking at Dairren out of the corner of his eye, then threw the stick, "And you have?"
"She's my mother's handmaiden," he replied flatly. "You do know what sort of reaction I would get should I have done anything of the sort. Mother and Father would have me strung up to dry right along side the table cloths and bed sheets."
Aedan chuckled a bit and was about to respond, but the main gate into the courtyard boomed open. Four men entered, two were castle guards and they escorted in two other armored men in, one of them held a silver toned helm in his hands despite wearing a helm already. They wore the heraldry of a bear in front of a white and yellow shield, the coat of arms of the Arl of Amaranthine. Angus stopped in mid return, looking in the direction of the men with an ear perked. Suddenly, he dropped the stick from his maw, turned quickly and started barking snarling and lunging forward at the men. They all backed away, the men from Amaranthine more so, until Aedan snapped out a command.
"Angus! To my side!"
Angus stopped his lunging, but he didn't heed and continued to bark and snarl.
"Angus! Now!"
The Warhound's ears went back and he quickly went to Aedan's side, but he immediately faced the men and still carried a low toned growl.
Aedan hissed at him, "Stop that! You know better."
Angus finally quieted, but his ears were still back and he was obviously fighting not baring his teeth. Aedan looked up as the men approached cautiously. He eyed Arl Howe's men a little suspiciously. His Warhound might have been too energetic for his own good, but he knew better than to immediately threaten someone being escorted in . . . unless they had ill intent.
"Sorry about that, he's normally better behaved," he kept one hand on the top of Angus's head. "Are you here to say that Arl Howe's forces have arrived?"
The two men, their little scare over, approached. The one with the helm shook his head, "No, unfortunately, milord. Do you know where Arl Howe is, we have some dire news for him."
At that he held out the helm in his hands. It was a helm normally worn by the captains of Howe's forces, the carving of a charging bear crested the top of it, but on closer inspection it's silver tone was marred red by splatters of blood and the straight noseguard was bent in. Way too far in.
The other man spoke in grave tones, "Your Warhound probably smelled the blood, milord..."
Angus whined at the words and shifted his feet on the ground. Aedan pet his head reassuringly.
"Arl Howe should be in the great hall with my father and the Grey Warden," he furrowed his eyebrows looking at the helm again. "I will take you to him."
Above, two sets of eyes peered down into the courtyard. The activity below was hard to ignore.
"Looks like somethin's afoot," Kallian uttered.
Ser Gilmore nodded, looking serious, "I think I better get down to the hall."
"Not without me ya don't," she stood up straight and dusted her rear with a hand. "Long as it doesn't involve feast hall dinners or awkward social situations, I want in."
By the time they reached the hall, Arl Howe was talking quietly with his two men at one end of the hall. Teyrn Cousland, Duncan, and Lords Aedan and Dairren stood nearer to the fireside end of the hall, waiting patiently for the Arl to get his news. They all glanced in their direction as she and Ser Gilmore entered the hall from a side door.
Gilmore bowed briefly to them, almost informally, then motioned his head to where Arl Howe was, "What goes, sers? Have they finally arrived?"
The Teyrn shook his head, "No, it seems something has happened."
Lord Dairren, who smiled in Kallian's direction and inclined his head to just her, returned his attention to the others and uttered, "Hasn't it taken a bit too long? They should have been here at least a day ago."
"Mind yourself, Lord Dairren," the Teyrn said, his eyebrows furrowing a little. "Arl Howe has... simply had a few setbacks."
"More than a few."
Kallian's eyebrow rose as it was Duncan that uttered the words. His arms were crossed and he was staring down the hall in Arl Howe's direction. At that point Howe approached them all with a tarnished silver helm in his hands.
"Uhm, your Grace," his eyebrows were furrowed. "I have some . . . unfortunate news. It seems my men will be delayed just a little longer."
"Longer?" the Teyrn did not sound too pleased. "By how long and why?"
Howe seemed to wince, "I'm . . . not entirely certain by how much longer, hopefully no less then another day, but I can tell you why. It seems the captain of my contingency has . . . met with an untimely accident."
He held the helm up a little bit, "These two who were sent to inform me can't seem to give me a straight answer as to how this occurred, but as a result my men are in disarray. It's unfortunate, but I will have to go there, figure what happened, and lead my men here myself."
The Teyrn inhaled deeply then let it out in a short huff, "You do realize we'll have much to answer for if we arrive at Ostagar long after the fighting is done, do you not?"
"Y-yes, your Grace, you have my deepest apologies for this. I will make it all up to you . . . I swear."
Cousland's shoulders eased a tad, "Just . . . get your men here as soon as possible. We'll leave almost as soon as they get here."
Arl Howe bowed, crossing his arms over his heart, "It will be done, your Grace."
He turned and left, not saying another word.
"Now I'm definitely glad I sent Fergus ahead with our men," the Teyrn clasped his arms behind his back and looked at the others. "Would be a bit of a marring on Highever and Cousland honor if we didn't show."
"I doubt anything could truly mar the Cousland name, your Grace," Duncan said. "As you said yourself, everyone is scrambling. I don't think King Cailan will hold it against you."
"Well, I certainly hope not," the Teyrn replied in a lighter tone. "Now that's over . . . Lord Dairren, a moment if you will."
His shift in tone seemed to signal to everyone to go their merry way. Lord Aedan headed to a corner where Angus had apparently been told to stay and using only small gestures lead the Warhound out of the great hall. The Teyrn was uttering quietly to Lord Dairren and - though Dairren gave a look in Kallian's direction - they were meandering out of the hall as well. Duncan approached she and Gilmore.
"So, I see you two have met."
Kallian gave a short nod, "Only for a short bit now, but yes."
Duncan looked at him, "Ser Gilmore, would now be a good time to speak to you?"
Gilmore seemed to draw himself up a little, "Of course, I have some time right now."
"Kallian, if you would excuse us?"
She smartly thumped her chest with a fist in a traditional soldier's salute, and smirked, "Right ya are!"
Duncan arched an eyebrow at her and Ser Gilmore just grinned.
Her smirk turned into more of a sheepish look and she chucked a thumb to the door behind her, "I'll just . . . go and get meself lost in the castle again."
With that she left, but she turned just before leaving, catching Ser Gilmore's eye and mouthed the words "Good luck". Then she finally got herself out of the hall. As she left, she made her own decision that if Duncan didn't see Ser Gilmore worthy of being a recruit she'd have to heavily question why.