This is the first chapter of a fic I’m working on. It’s original ‘stablename’ was Oren Alive, which pretty much says everything it needs to, I think.

There isn’t even a hint of romance in this excerpt, but the story is Female Cousland/Alistair endgame.

I’ve taken some of the dialogue directly from the game. Full credit to the amazing writers at BioWare for anything I’ve borrowed.

Title: Light in the Shadows
Author: Claire Watson
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: A/U, Fix-it
Relationship(s): Elissa Cousland/Alistair Theirin
Content Rating: PG
Warnings: Canon level violence, canon character deaths
Author Notes: Noble Rogue Female Origin, Some dialogue taken directly from the game.
Beta: Grammarly!
Word Count: 6,358
Summary: In a single night, Elissa’s whole world had changed.

Chapter one

On the night following Fergus’ departure for Ostagar, Elissa had difficulty getting to sleep.

It wasn’t any one thing but a combination of worries. The knowledge that her father and her brother would both be battling darkspawn soon was foremost in her mind, but Arl Howe’s unsubtle hints about an alliance between her and Thomas came a close second. Elissa would rather devote her life to the priesthood than marry Thomas, who was a slimy toad of a teenager.

Or perhaps she could become a Grey Warden. Duncan might not be ready to risk her father’s wrath by conscripting her, but a volunteer was a different matter. It would require some convincing, but surely her father would allow it. Fergus already had a fine, healthy son, and would very likely have more in the years to come.

The churning in Elissa’s mind was soon echoed by a churning in her stomach. Resigned to wakefulness, she rose and dressed in her practice leathers. Maybe an hour or two of stabbing a practice dummy would wear her out enough that she would be able to get some sleep.

Victor, her mabari hound, had been similarly restless and waited impatiently at the door.

“Quietly now,” she whispered to him. “Let’s not wake Orianna and Oren.”

Victor gave a soft wuffle and scratched at the door before pricking his ears and growling, body tensing, his short fur bristling. Elissa’s heart leapt into her throat. The last time she’d heard that growl was right before a group of bandits attacked her and Fergus last spring, while they’d been doing a surprise survey of the western holdings.

Victor had given the same warning then. Because of their readiness, the bandits had been swiftly dispatched, no match for Elissa, her brother, and her faithful hound. Hearing that growl now, in the safety of home, was terrifying.

Elissa threw open the door, pulling her practice knives from their sheaths. They wouldn’t do the damage of the set her father had given her the previous wintersend, but they were better than nothing, and that other set was in the armoury.

Two armed men were trying to get into her parents’ chamber, but Elissa’s attention was caught by the sight of an armed, shadowy figure going into Fergus’ room. Victor leapt forward, covering the ground in a moment and landing on the attacker’s back, bringing him to the ground. Two seconds later, Elissa was driving her dagger through the throat of another, even as he drove a sword into Orianna. Turning, she thrust the knife through the kidneys of the man behind her, his back open as he tried to fend off Victor, who then ripped out his throat.

“Mother!” Oren’s voice was high with fright. “Mother, wake up! Aunty, mother won’t…she won’t…” He started sobbing.

Elissa wanted to reassure and comfort him, but there wasn’t time. The two men she’d killed weren’t elite assassins, they looked more like ordinary soldiers. For men such as this to have made it all the way to the family apartments…

Something was dreadfully wrong, and there was no time to lose.

Elissa turned to her nephew and grabbed him by the shoulders, looking into his eyes to be sure he was paying attention to her. “Oren, Victor is going to protect you. I need to check on your grandparents, but there may be more attackers.” She gentled her voice with an effort. “Get dressed; wear your warmest clothes and your new winter boots. I know it’s hard, but we need to move. I can’t save your mother, but I promise I’ll save you.”

Oren nodded. His eyes were still full of tears, but Couslands didn’t breed stupid children. “Yes, Aunty.”

Elissa looked at Victor. “Stay here and protect him. I’ll be back soon.”

Victor whined, and paced towards the door, crouching there and peering out. He growled again.

“Good boy,” Elissa murmured, readying her daggers. “Oren, bar the door behind me. Don’t unbar it unless Victor wags his tail at whoever is on the other side, alright?” She didn’t wait for his agreement, just slipped out the door, closing it gently behind her.

There were two more attackers just coming through the entrance to the outer rooms. They weren’t expecting her and were easy to dispatch, but that alerted another two who’d been hammering at the door to her parents’ room. One of them started towards her, sword at the ready, while the other lifted a bow.

“Tell us where the Teyrn is!” the one in front of her snarled, even as he swung his blade at her.

Elissa didn’t bother to dignify that with a reply. Even if she knew, she’d hardly tell scum like this. Shifting slightly so that he was between her and the bowman, she parried his blow with one knife while aiming to stab him in the armpit with the other.

That fight was harder, and Elissa didn’t make it out unscathed, gaining a long scrape along her left arm that throbbed with pain. Still, they were dead, while she was still mobile. That was definitely a win. The door to her parents’ room opened, and her mother emerged, already dressed for battle.

“Darling! I heard fighting outside and feared the worst! Are you hurt?” Eleanor looked her over, gaze lingering slightly on the blood that was staining her upper arm through her leathers.

“I’m fine,” Elissa said. “Nothing a quick potion won’t fix. What’s going on?!”

Eleanor shook her head. “A scream woke me up. There were men in the hall, so I barred the door. Did you see their shields? Those are Howe’s men! Why would they attack us?!”

The truth of the situation washed over Elissa like cold water. “He’s betrayed us! He attacked as soon as our troops were gone!” She turned and headed back to where she’d left Oren, her mother following as she worked through the same conclusions Elissa had just come to.

“You mean, Howe’s men were delayed on purpose? That bastard! I’ll cut his lying throat myself! Have you seen your father? He never came to bed.”

“No, I haven’t, I was in my room,” Elissa explained, knocking on Fergus’ door. “Oren, Victor, it’s me.”

The bolt slid back, and the door swung open. Victor was still on guard, lips curled over his fangs. He sniffed them both briefly, then focused on the entrance to the outer rooms. There were clear sounds of battle in the distance, the whole castle was under attack.

Oren had followed her instructions and was now sitting at Orianna’s side. He’d closed her eyes and placed her hands over her heart and if it weren’t for the colour of her skin and the blood staining her dress, she might have looked asleep.

“Oren!” Eleanor gasped. “Oh, my darling boy, you’re safe!” She embraced him fiercely, letting him cling to her. “Oh, Orianna…I’m so sorry, Oren. Howe will pay for this.”

“I was too late to save her,” Elissa said. “If I’d been even seconds quicker…but there’s nothing to be done about that now. The battle’s downstairs. We can’t stay here, with the bulk of our troops gone the castle is most likely lost. We need to find father.”

Eleanor pulled herself together. “Yes, we must get to your father.”

Elissa nodded. “Can you fight?”

“I’m no Orlesian wallflower,” Eleanor declared. “Give me a sword and I’ll use it! Now let’s go!”

They didn’t keep much in the way of weapons in the family area—an oversight that Elissa would be sure to rectify once all this was over and done with, if they made it through alive—but Howe’s men had plenty. Elissa tested the edge of a dagger; it was sharper than her old training blades. Making up her mind, she took it, giving one of her blunter blades to Oren. “Don’t try and attack anyone, but if they get close enough you can stab them with this.”

Oren nodded solemnly, the previous day’s excitement at being able to train with daggers completely gone.

Eleanor strapped on a sword, then picked up a bow. “Oren, stay behind me.”

Elissa took a last look around. Unless some miracle happened, this might be the last time she’d get the chance. Bracing herself, she moved towards the entranceway. If nothing else, she and her mother would both fight to the death to save Oren, the future Teyrn. And there was nothing more dangerous than a Cousland fighting for something they believed in.

v^v^v^v

The fight through the castle was horrific, people she’d known all her life lying dead in each room, the floors of her home running with blood.

The guards were putting up a valiant effort, despite being greatly outnumbered. Seeing Eleanor and Elissa alive and fighting, with Oren behind them, gave them renewed strength. At Elissa’s order, they concentrated on ensuring Eleanor and Oren were protected.

Elissa started to hope that they might hold the castle after all. Then they made it into the great hall, and she realised that the bulk of the Arl’s men hadn’t made it inside yet. The doors wouldn’t hold forever, and it was only a matter of time before they were truly overrun.

It rankled, leaving Ser Gilmore and his men to defend them while they made their escape through the kitchen passage, but Elissa concentrated on Oren and tried to put that feeling aside.

Finding her father wounded and accepting his death was another terrible blow. Hearing her mother’s plans to stay at his side roused the anger she’d been feeling since she saw Fergus’ family being attacked into an inferno.

“No, mother, you will not stay here and die a noble death beside your beloved! If I am to be given to the Grey Wardens in payment for our safety, then you must come with us! Oren needs you! Will you abandon him?”

Oren had been quiet as a mouse this whole time, doing everything Elissa said without hesitation or argument. At Duncan’s soft explanation of Bryce’s impending death, he’d started to tremble, something Elissa only noticed because he was huddled into her side.

Bryce locked gazes with his wife. “You know she’s right.”

Eleanor’s face was an agony of indecision. “My place is at your side, Bryce. To death, remember?”

“I know, my love,” he whispered, his strength visibly fading. “But the pup is right, Oren needs you. You must go. Don’t waste time arguing, just… I’ll wait for you at the Maker’s side.”

Eleanor bowed her head. When she raised it again, her eyes had gone flint hard. “If we are to go, then let us go.”

v^v^v^v

Elissa and Eleanor spent much of the journey to Ostagar making tentative plans for the immediate future. Nothing could be completely decided just yet, Fergus would need to choose the best way to go forward.

Arriving at the ruins of the old Tevinter fortress, they were met by none other than King Cailan himself. His initial delight at welcoming Duncan dimmed as soon as he caught sight of Elissa, Eleanor and Oren. “Lady Eleanor!” he exclaimed. “And you must be Bryce’s youngest.” His gaze slid over to Oren, and his eyebrows lifted.

“Your Majesty,” Eleanor greeted him. “This is my daughter, Elissa, and my grandson, Oren.”

Elissa and Oren both made their bows to an increasingly perturbed looking king.

“I knew you were looking for recruits, Duncan,” King Cailan said, his jovial tone belied by the concern in his eyes. “Don’t tell me that you’re accepting children these days.”

“No, your Majesty,” Duncan replied gravely. “Arl Howe has proved himself a traitor, attacking Castle Cousland. The Teyrn is dead, and we four barely managed to escape with our lives.”

“What?!” The king openly gaped for a few moments before schooling his features. “I…can scarcely believe it! How could he think he would get away with such treachery?” His shock quickly turned to anger. “As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word.”

Eleanor inclined her head. “Thank you, your Majesty.” She stepped back, next to Oren, drooping as though that small interaction had exhausted her.

King Cailan sighed, turning to Elissa. “No doubt you wish to see Fergus. Unfortunately, he and some of his men are scouting in the wilds.”

Elissa’s smile was brittle. “My brother’s wife and our father both perished in the attack. I…am not eager to tell him, your Majesty.”

King Cailan nodded sympathetically. “Of that, I have no doubt. You will see him again after the battle is over, I am certain.” He hesitated. “We’re expecting the battle tonight to be gruelling. You will need to make what arrangements you can for Oren’s safety.” He crouched down so that he could address Oren directly. “I’m sorry about your mother, Oren. You’ve been very brave, and you’ll need to be brave for a bit longer. Please do whatever your aunt and grandmother say; stay safe so that your father doesn’t have more to grieve.”

Oren nodded, awed. “Yes, your Majesty.”

King Cailan smiled at him. “I’ll look forward to seeing you at court in a few years. The Couslands have always been desirable allies and implacable enemies. The blood of warriors and great tactical strategists runs true in your line.”

Oren nodded again. “Yes, your Majesty.”

King Calian rose to his feet, armour clanking as it settled back into place. “I apologise, but there’s nothing more I can do. All I can suggest is that you vent your grief against the darkspawn for the time being.”

Elissa nodded grimly. “I will, your Majesty.”

The rest of the king’s exchange with Duncan revolved around the battles that had been fought, and the one expected to take place that night. Before long the king excused himself.

Duncan watched him go, eyebrows drawn together in concern. He turned to Elissa. “Make what arrangements you must for your family quickly. Then, find Alistair, the newest Grey Warden recruit, and meet me in our camp on the other side of the bridge.”

“Is there anything else you need me to do?” Elissa asked. She wasn’t looking forward to being separated from what remained of her family.

“Feel free to explore the camp, although I would ask you not to leave it without informing me first. Other than that…good luck.” Duncan nodded at Eleanor and Oren, then strode off across the bridge.

It wasn’t difficult to find the Highever contingent. Their crest was displayed proudly, the banner rippling gently in the breeze. Seeing it made some of the worry that Elissa had carried around since their escape unclench.

Fergus’ second, Matteo, at first looked surprised to see her. “My lady,” he bowed briefly, “we weren’t expecting to see you. Did the Teyrn—” He broke off, his surprise turning to shock, then horror when he saw Eleanor and Oren behind her. “Maker’s balls, what…”

“Matteo,” Elissa greeted him. “I need to speak with you.”

The noisy activity of the Highever soldiers faded into near silence as Elissa, Eleanor and Oren’s presence was registered and they realised that something had gone terribly wrong. Oren’s presence alone spoke volumes.

“My lady,” Matteo repeated. He swallowed. “Will the Teyrn be…”

It was probably best to just get it out. “My father is dead. Castle Cousland was taken by Arl Howe the night after you left.” She gave them a few moments to digest that before continuing. “The king told me that Fergus is still out scouting. In his absence, I need to discuss arrangements with you for Oren’s safety. Can you arrange somewhere for my mother and nephew to rest? It’s been a difficult journey.”

Elissa normally wouldn’t have dreamed of side-lining her mother like this, but Eleanor had been a shadow of herself since the escape. It was as though all joy in life had died with her husband, and Elissa had begun to wonder if insisting she come with them had been the right thing after all.

Matteo’s eyes flicked to Eleanor’s drawn face. “Of course, my lady. Norton, take…our Teyrn’s mother and his heir to his tent and make sure they’re comfortable. Lady Elissa, this way.” He led her to another tent, this one obviously set up as a discussion area. Two lieutenants were having a discussion next to what appeared to be a hastily assembled small scale model of Ostagar. A glance at Elissa and a gesture from Matteo, and they made hurried bows and left.

Matteo closed the tent flap and turned to her. “My Lady, I…”

“You don’t have to call me ‘my Lady,’ anymore,” Elissa told him. “Duncan, Commander of the Grey, negotiated our passage south with my father. In payment for safely escorting us out of the castle, I am now a Grey Warden recruit.”

“Doesn’t make you any less of a lady,” Matteo replied, the half-grin he gave her a poor attempt at his usual levity. “What of the rest of the Castle’s inhabitants? Of Highever itself?”

Elissa sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Matteo’s parents ran a bakery in Highever and his grandfather, Aldous, had tutored both her and Fergus. When she opened them again, Matteo was wearing the blank expression of someone expecting bad news. “As far as I know, the city wasn’t touched. Some of the servants may have escaped the castle, but I fear most were killed. Howe wasn’t interested in hostages, and it was mere chance that Oren survived at all. I wasn’t in time to save Orianna. Or your grandfather. I’m sorry.”

Matteo nodded. “And Gilmore?” Rory Gilmore had started as Matteo’s squire, and he’d expended a lot of effort into training him. “Last I heard he was being considered as a possible Grey Warden recruit.”

“He stayed to hold the gate so we could escape.” Elissa’s lips twisted. “I don’t know for certain that he’s dead, but it seems likely.” There was a brief silence. Elissa directed her gaze to one side, giving Matteo time to compose himself.

“What would you have me do, my Lady?” he eventually asked.

“I had hoped there would be more time to get Oren’s situation taken care of before the fighting started,” Elissa said. “However, the king informed me there will be a battle tonight. Do you know when Fergus will return?”

“He was expected back this morning,” Matteo replied slowly. “Any number of things might have delayed him, so I’m not worried just yet.”

Elissa tried to keep her dismay off her face. She couldn’t handle losing Fergus as well. “I wish I could just command you all to take my mother and nephew to safety, but it wouldn’t be right. Better for the Cousland line to die out completely than for a Blight to sweep through Ferelden.”

Matteo shook his head. “I disagree. Lands have recovered from Blights, but the Couslands are part of Ferelden’s history; one of the few noble houses that we have left from the founding. Losing the Cousland line would cripple the morale of the country for years to come. Besides, this might not even be an actual Blight.”

Elissa shook her head. “The Warden-Commander says that it is. He’s worried, very worried, and I would rather err on the side of caution when it comes to darkspawn. Wouldn’t you?”

“As you say. So, what is to be done?”

“I can’t take the might of our forces away from the king’s army, that might prove disastrous. But…” She tapped her lower lip with a fingernail as she considered the idea from as many angles as possible. “Perhaps we can spare some. Is there anyone you would recommend as a reliable courier? If we could send a message to my mother’s family, a message that we could be reasonably sure wouldn’t be intercepted and silenced…”

Matteo straightened. “You think Bann Mac Eanraig would send an escort?”

“Yes,” Elissa replied firmly. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” She grimaced. “Not that it would have been much help, Duncan was set on getting to Ostagar as soon as possible, and Donnelly would have been too far out of our way.” She sighed. “The king seems certain that tonight’s battle will be a success. Perhaps I should find a safe spot for Oren and deal with this tomorrow.”

“I remain at your command, your Ladyship,” Matteo assured her. “Wherever you decide to send young Oren, I’ll make sure to send a guard with him.”

“Thank you. It’s a great relief to have you here,” Elissa said. “I’ll poke around a bit and see if I can come up with something. My mother is…she’s not taking this well, and I’m worried she’ll do something rash. If it comes to that… Well, she’s an adult, she’ll make her own choices. Our priority has to be Oren.”

Passing Oren’s protection over to others was hard. The importance of keeping him safe had kept Elissa going since that awful moment when she realised that her father wasn’t going to make it, and letting him out of her sight for more than half an hour felt wrong. She had things to do though, and her nephew would be safe enough amongst Highever’s men. Safer than in his own castle.

As a last precaution, Elissa left Victor to watch over him. Victor loved Oren nearly as much as he loved Elissa, and knowing that her faithful friend was protecting her nephew made her feel better about the situation.

Having scoured the area occupied by the king’s army and talked to a number of people, Elissa concluded that the best place to leave Oren and her mother during the battle was with the mages. Enchanter Wynne, an approachable and kind looking senior mage listened to Elissa’s proposition.

“You’ve found yourself in rather a pickle, haven’t you?” Wynne said warmly. “I can understand your concerns. I must warn you, that while we will be stationed further back from the battle than those on the front lines, we are combatants. The magic we produce will be substantial, and there will be considerable danger.”

“My mother will ensure Oren’s kept out of your way, and one or two of Highever’s men will stay with them,” Elissa pointed out. “When the battle is over, I can look to making more suitable arrangements for him, but right now my hands are tied.”

Wynne regarded her thoughtfully. “In the event that the battle is lost, what would have us do with your nephew?”

Elissa had already considered that possibility. “If the worst should happen, I assume the Circle will retreat to your tower? Kinloch Hold; on Lake Calenhad, yes? Would it be possible to take him with you? My mother’s family will no doubt take him in, but your aid in getting him away from the battle lines would be greatly appreciated. My mother will know what to do from there.”

Wynne nodded approvingly. “You certainly know your geography, young lady. Very well, I agree with this plan. If the battle goes ill, I’ll ensure your nephew returns to Kinloch with me. If I should fall…well, no one is going into this with any guarantees.”

Elissa smiled. “Thank you. Hopefully, my brother will arrive back before the battle, and these precautions are unnecessary, but…”

“Say no more about it.” Wynne patted her hand gently. “Why don’t you take me over now and introduce me?”

Having Wynne—who’d struck Elissa as being competent and sensible—to keep watch over Oren during the battle was an immense weight off her shoulders.

Elissa performed the introductions, pleased that Eleanor was starting to show signs of emerging from the despair she’d fallen into, then had the difficult job of explaining to Oren that she would be leaving him.

“But why, Aunty,” Oren asked, eyes big. “What if something happens to you and you don’t come back?”

Elissa knelt in front of him and took his face in her hands. “I have to do my duty, follow through on the promises that your grandfather and I both made. I’m going to do everything possible to see you safe to your father, Oren, I swear it. If the worst should happen, if I fall in battle, Wynne will help keep you and grandmother safe, okay? She’ll help get you to Donnelly, where you can stay with grandmother’s brother and his family.”

“I don’t want you to go!”

Elissa did her best to smile, although tears were pricking her eyes. “I don’t want to go either. But we’re Couslands, you and I, and we do what we must.” She gave him one last hug, then turned to her mother.

“Oh, my strong girl,” Eleanor said, pulling her in for a hug too. “You’re so much like your father; you have his strength and determination. Go, darling, make us both proud. I’ll take care of Oren, and we’ll all survive to see Fergus when he returns to us.”

Elissa clung tightly to her mother for a moment, before releasing her and stepping back. She let herself look at them one last time, engraving the image of them standing together into her memory, and then turned away.

It was time to start paying the price that had been agreed.

v^v^v^v

Perhaps if she’d been recruited in the usual fashion, Elissa would have been more invested in the process of becoming a Grey Warden. As it was, she performed the assigned tasks efficiently and effectively and didn’t waste time on hopes and dreams for her own future.

When Elissa survived the Joining—with both Daveth and Jory falling, although in very different manners—her only reaction was relief. Not even for her own sake, but for Oren’s. Grey Wardens were supposed to release their ties to the world and sacrifice their lives to fighting the blight, but Elissa couldn’t wholeheartedly commit to that until she’d fulfilled her oath to Oren.

Although she’d been raised to follow Andraste, Elissa found herself praying to any gods who would listen in the hope that Fergus would be found, and would survive the night. As the battle grew closer and no runner from the Highever camp arrived to announce his return, her prayers grew more and more desperate.

Later, at the top of the Tower of Ishal with an Ogre dead on the ground behind her, she lit the fire that would signal Teyrn Loghain to engage. From her spot overlooking the battle, she watched Loghain abandon the field, watched as the army was overrun. When darkspawn poured out of the stairwell of the tower and onto the roof, finally overwhelming them, Elissa’s last thought was to hope that Wynne had succeeded in getting Oren to safety.

v^v^v^v

Waking in Flemeth’s hut when she thought she’d breathed her last reinvigorated Elissa’s hope. If she and Alistair had survived the Tower of Ishal, perhaps Fergus could survive whatever had befallen him too.

The knowledge that she and Alistair were the only Grey Wardens left, possibly in the whole of Ferelden, was not so inspiring.

It was while talking with Flemeth and Alistair about their plans that the treaties they’d retrieved the day before the battle came up.

“Of course,” said Elissa, “the Grey Wardens can demand aid from elves, dwarves, and mages. I also agree that Arl Eamon will probably be a worthwhile ally.” She could combine her duties; checking to see if Oren lived would serve the Grey Wardens too.

“Then, can we do this?” asked Alistair starting to lose some of his dejected demeanour. With a workable goal to focus on, he straightened his shoulders and began to pull himself together.

That was good. They’d barely met, but Elissa already knew Alistair was a well-trained fighter. His blade and shield work against the darkspawn was methodical without being overly predictable, and they’d already begun to mesh their styles together. With a bit more confidence, he would be a formidable warrior.

When Flemeth explained she was sending her daughter, Morrigan to help them, Alistair’s newfound enthusiasm took a nosedive.

Elissa thought it was probably his templar prejudice showing. Fighting the Blight was in everyone’s best interests, it was why the treaties existed in the first place. Elissa certainly wasn’t going to turn away skilled help, and since Alistair seemed to be looking to her to make the decisions, then it was her choice.

Morrigan’s first suggestion was that they join the Imperial Highway in Lothering, stopping there to restock.

Elissa agreed, and together the three of them made their way out of the Korcari Wilds.

v^v^v^v

The road to Lothering was interrupted sporadically by roving bands of darkspawn. Thanks to Elissa and Alistair, they were never taken by surprise, but even then, they would have been sorely pressed if it weren’t for Morrigan and her magic. Despite growing up in the Wild’s as an Apostate, Morrigan was skilled and powerful.

By the time they arrived in Lothering, their plans to restock were dashed. There wasn’t much available. Lothering was overflowing with refugees, each telling stories of fleeing the darkspawn approach with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

Elissa overheard some mutterings of problems at the Kinloch Circle, but none of the people she asked knew anything more than vague rumour. It took all her training on keeping her emotions in check to suppress the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

She told herself that there were always rumours coming out of the Tower, that every other year it was said to have blown up or sunk beneath the lake. There was no reason that these rumours were any truer than those had been.

The other story being circulated was how the Grey Wardens had betrayed King Cailan to his death, with Loghain escaping the massacre by the skin of his teeth.

Alistair was infuriated, but Elissa recognised the tactic for what it was. An attempt to get in front of the rumours that would eventually start to be told when the survivors reached safety and related what they saw, and what they didn’t see.

It was a risky political move and had the potential to backfire on him badly. No doubt Loghain hoped to sweep any objections the Bannorn might have by emphasising the need to be united in the face of the darkspawn. With no Grey Wardens available, Ferelden’s nobles might very well turn a blind eye to the questionable actions around King Cailan’s death to focus on such an immediate threat.

The survival of a Grey Warden with Elissa’s heritage was going to come as a nasty surprise. Grey Wardens might traditionally give up any claim to their name with the Joining, but that didn’t make her any less a Cousland by birth, and Couslands were known to be honest and honourable. Loghain might succeed in smearing the reputations of unknown Grey Wardens, but he would need significantly more proof to make a Cousland into the villain of the piece.

With that in mind, Elissa ignored Morrigan’s grumbling and dutifully completed all the chanter’s board requests and any other small tasks that people wanted help with. The Landsmeet might be the voice of the nobles of the Bannorn, but the people of Ferelden had their own voice, and it was worthwhile to spend a little time cultivating it.

Having done as much as she could in as little time as possible—including picking up two new recruits—Elissa avoided the small group of furtive, hungry-looking men that were loitering just outside the town and made her way to the Imperial Highway. She was going to make the mages her first stop.

v^v^v^v

Elissa kept the five of them moving as fast as was safe, organising their duties around camp for maximum efficiency and packing up early so that they could be on the road at first light.

Alistair and Leliana quietly grumbled about harsh taskmasters, and Morrigan sent her dark looks occasionally, but Sten openly approved of the pace she set.

It led to some rather confusing conversations, since the Qun had some very strict limitations on the roles that people were allowed to have, and women were apparently not supposed to fight.

Elissa found Sten’s description of the Qun very confusing. The discovery that he would never be able to return home unless he found the sword he’d lost made his general gloomy pessimism a little more understandable, however.

Elissa tried to be tactful, but Sten’s continued insistence on misunderstanding her finally made her throw up her hands and state that she wasn’t there to cater to his perceptions and could they just get on with things. She’d expected him to revert to the frosty silence he’d started out with, but it turned out that refusing to make concessions for him won his respect.

They were almost at the Lake Calenhad Docks when their campsite was approached by an unfamiliar man. He was alone, and carried none of the usual mage trappings, so when he asked to speak to Elissa privately, she agreed.

His name was Levi Dryden, and after a bit of verbal circling, he told her that Duncan had promised to help him clear out Soldiers Peak and recover the proof that would restore the honour of his ancestor, Warden-Commander Sophia Dryden. Her failed rebellion against the crown had seen the Wardens banished from Ferelden and the Drydens impoverished and disgraced.

Duncan would let Levi gather what proof he needed from the ruins, while Duncan would gain the use of the old fortress for the Grey Wardens.

Elissa’s education had covered the history of Soldier’s Peak, the Dryden rebellion and the resulting siege and battle. Soldiers Peak had held out for months, and only lack of food had forced their gates open.

As far as most of Thedas knew, Soldier’s Peak was an uninhabitable ruin. If Elissa could work out what was keeping it that way and solve the problem, it might be a safe place for the remains of her family to shelter from both the Blight and whatever assassins Howe would send after them when he discovered they’d survived.

With that in mind, Elissa agreed to uphold and fulfil Duncan’s promise. “I’ll make my way up to the Coastlands once I’ve talked to the mages at Kinloch.”

Levi nodded. “Thank you, my Lady! I’ll go ahead and wait for you.”

Elissa’s group arrived at the Calenhad Docks during the late afternoon. The Tower loomed ominously in the near distance, an uninviting structure. Alistair’s attempt at humour and Morrigan’s crude commentary on the phallic nature of towers did nothing to lighten the atmosphere of foreboding.

Sten’s grim demeanour wasn’t improved by the sight of a scavenger looting the remains of a group of Qunari. Some questioning revealed that the scavenger didn’t have Sten’s sword, but that it might have been taken by another scavenger, Faryn, who’d already left to try and sell his loot in the marketplace outside the entrance to Orzammer.

Elissa made a note of the name and then made her way to the jetty. There was a single rowboat moored there, guarded by a templar.

“You!” he said as they approached. “You’re not looking to get across to the tower, are you? Because I have strict orders not to let anyone pass.”

Telling him they were on Grey Warden business didn’t persuade him to relent his stance, and he wasn’t able to give her any helpful information as to what the actual problem at the tower was.

Elissa was soon fed up. She was just tossing up between trying to flatter him into letting them cross or plain intimidating him, when Sten unexpectedly solved the problem by offering the templar cookies.

“Where did you get cookies from?” asked Elissa, baffled but grateful. The offer of cookies seemed to be enough of a bribe to make the templar forget his ‘strict instructions.’

“There was a child, a fat slovenly thing in the last village we passed. I relieved him of these confections. He didn’t need more.”

Elissa blinked. “You stole cookies from a child?”

Sten glowered at her. “For his own good.”

“Mmm, good cookies!” said the templar, his mouth still full.

Elissa sighed. “Can we go across then?”

“Sure,” the templar replied. “You’re not all going to fit into the boat though. Maybe four of you?”

“If any of us are to be left behind, then I am happy to be amongst them,” Morrigan told her. “Although, I would have words with you before you leave.”

Sten immediately said, “I will stay back too.”

Not surprising. The Qun viewed magic with deep suspicion, keeping their mages collared and leashed with their mouths sewn shut. Sten hadn’t made any secret that he distrusted Morrigan and intended to watch her for treachery.

Morrigan’s wish to be left behind was understandable too. She’d spent her whole life avoiding templars and the Circle, it would be a reckless move to just walk in of her own accord.

Morrigan’s ‘words’ were a request for Elissa to keep an eye out for an old grimoire that had once belonged to Flemeth. It had been taken to the tower by templars years ago, and Morrigan was hoping to discover things her mother hadn’t yet taught her. Elissa promised to bring it to Morrigan if she found it.

Alistair and Leliana were passing the time by talking to a grumpy old man hanging outside the inn. After asking Morrigan and Sten to prepare a campsite in readiness for their return, Elissa took Alistair and Leliana with her in the boat.

With just the four of them, the boat had plenty of room. The trip wasn’t long, but it was long enough for Elissa to explain to her companions about the situation with her family, and her hopes of finding them inside.

As she’d expected, both Alistair and Leliana were sympathetic and supportive. Neither of them was even slightly reproachful that Elissa was taking time out from fighting the Blight to see to her family’s safety. Elissa very much doubted Morrigan and Sten would have been as understanding.

The feeling of foreboding present at the docks grew stronger the closer they got to the tower.