#Bryce cousland

[zazrichor]

Judgmentally, she stared down her nose, voice cool. “Your soldiers don’t smarten up when you walk by. They don’t respect you.” As he walked up to the bottom of her perch, the Captain leaned forward, folding her arms on the railing. Her posture was loose and comfortable, but her expression did not relax an iota, lips drawn tight. Bryce imagined she was attempting to look down on him, but he felt more like a boy peeking up at a lady’s balcony from the garden. He’d never seen her with her hair down. Being so closed-off and cold was not at all what he’d been expecting from a raider, but she ran a tight ship. A little too tight. Mistakes were punished by her hand with a swiftness and severity that made him uneasy, but her sailors seemed to expect it.

☠️ The Seawolf and the Soldier ⚔️ by @psalacanthea

[illusivesoul]

Knowing the lore of Rendon and Bryce makes the whole human noble origin hit different

[edenxroseyposey]

​fast forward to Howe’s betrayal where she’s begging to not be left to do things by herself… </3

[thedragonagebigbang]

The Seawolf and the Soldier

Written by: Thea Illustrated by: Zaz

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom(s): Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age Novels and Comics Major Pairing(s)/Character(s): Bryce Cousland/Eleanor Mac Eanraig (Cousland)

One last great battle at sea will end the Ferelden Rebellion; one final test for both future teyrn Bryce Cousland and notorious raider Eleanor Mac Eanraig. Their antagonism is legendary, but to face their common foe and end the war with Orlais they'll have to learn to trust. There's no one else Bryce would trust as his partner, but is there any point in longing for something more when his duty and her hard-won freedom lie in conflict?

More from Thea: @psalacanthea | bsky More from Zaz: @zazrichor | bsky

Full art by Zaz:

[harrycollins]

When Arl Rendon Howe's forces attacked Castle Cousland and murdered most of the Cousland family, the Hero of Ferelden escaped to safety with Warden-Commander Duncan, who then recruited him into the Order.

[phantabula-interactive]

I have accumulated enough WIPs over the course of a year or two I felt like I could dump some of them. My little warden commander

HOF hairstyle meme found here!

[vigilskeep]

you may use whatever metrics you choose to judge quality of dad, but please vote based on quality of dad, not just which origin you play

[amaranthsynthesis]

I haven't gone to sleep yet so it is still

Wip Wednesday

and I have for you all some unfinished and unasked for Duncan/Elder Couslands 😳

“Do you think we can bring her over, just like this?” Bryce asks him over his wife’s shoulder, teasing and blindingly happy. “My love, do you? Let us try, won’t you―” “You’re a rotten man,” Eleanor gasps, but Duncan feels when Bryce slides one muscled thigh between hers and drags her down against it. She drags her nails over Duncan’s scalp in agonized delight and grinds against the newfound friction. Duncan keeps to the task at hand, worrying at her breast, hands kneading, tongue lathing, and is rewarded for his efforts when she pulls even harder at his hair. “Do not dare stop. Maker, neither of you, you mustn’t―” In the end, Duncan slips his hand up Bryce's thigh, trailing through wiry hair and the slick trail of Eleanor's pleasure. He fits his thumb to her clit, a hard point of pressure against the wet slide, and sucks a bruise into the underside of one breast―she cums like that, for neither the first nor last time of the night. Duncan murmurs approvingly when she shakes apart, trails his lips up the slopes of sternum and neck until Bryce finds him on the other side and kisses the breath from his mouth. “Point for us,” he observes, and his hand finds where Duncan is beginning to harden again, squeezing appreciatively. A roll of Bryce's hips, and Eleanor sighs, pleased―evidence of a matched set behind her, Duncan surmises. “Yours or mine?” “Yours was just up his arse,” Eleanor observes lazily, hazy. “Unless you plan on drawing a bath, I'm afraid the point is Duncan's alone to spend.” “Does that mean I can―” “He was this impatient when we were lads, too, you know,” Duncan whispers to Eleanor, grinning wryly when she laughs. She presses him backwards to the feather tick, still so much finer than anything the three of them have grown used to, these long years of rebellion and civil war. Duncan lets her fill his eyes and his memory, the swing of her hair, sweat-damp, the softness beginning to gather over her belly that Bryce hasn't begun to notice. He will have to take to the road again soon to replenish the Wardens’ ranks, to reestablish the orders hold in Ferelden. He wants to remember this, when he goes. Wants to remember them both, though they are not his to keep, to keep the cold nights at bay. When he is reduced to one, and they two become three―will they remember him, too? Will there still be a place for him alongside them, in a year? Duncan banishes the maudlin self-pity; if this is scraps, then a feast of their attention would be served in the Golden City alone.

Not quite the finished piece I had hoped to deliver for the Thanksgiving dinner surreptitious smut reads, but I hope it serves well enough.

CHEERS.

[cosmic-cris-draws]

I can’t stop thinking about my dead parents help

[wylldebee]

Just a reminder that the Couslands once fought werewolves in the past. Haelia Cousland became a Teyrna after rallying an army against werewolves. You can't tell me the Couslands didn't have trophies from Haelia's time safely tucked away somewhere and brought them out at parties. BONUS: Someone joked about how ironic it is that Bryce went and married someone called the Seawolf. Bryce joked Eleanor infected him with love. She kicked him off her ship and banned him for three days.

[autisticlaezel]

The return of the Couslands to Highever, after nearly seventy years of absence, was greeted with shock by its people. The banns and freeholders of Highever were anxious to meet Bryce and swear allegiance. Many of the freeholders along the Amaranthine border came to swear fealty to the new teyrn instead of their arl, adding further complication to the proceedings. Teyrn Bryce spent four months receiving oaths and taking possession of his ancestral home, and every day without fail he sent a letter to lady Eleanor—sometimes more than one a day. One letter was reportedly just a stick-figure drawing of him sitting in Highever's great hall looking bored.

An icon

[illusivesoul]

Why Rendon Howe is evil

This is a little theory thats been going around in my head for several days.

Rendon Howe. Evil personified. Probably one of the most despicable and hated characters in the Dragon Age series. One of the characters thats most easily defined as being just plain bad and evil, with good reason. Even in the game itself no one likes him (with 1 exception that I'll mention later in this post)

In the game, we really aren't given many reasons as to why he is the way he is and why he does the thing he does beyond saying he's evil, power hungry, and like he himself says as he dies, "I deserved more!" But recently I started to become curious about him to try to find out what had made him become like this, cause I prefer villains to have some complexity that goes beyond just "He's evil just because".

Rest of the analysis under the cut.

.

My main theory of why I think Rendon became "evil" is cause he may have suffered brain damage due to his injuries while fighting against Orlais with Maric and his rebels. My first thought for this came cause historically, Henry the 8th of England suffered several brain injuries during sporting events, and its believed that his injuries led to him having a severe personality change, which led to him become more radical, tyrannical and murderous.

After the death of his father and the Howe family joining the rebellion, Rendon joined Maric's forces and became close friends with Bryce Cousland, future Teyrn of Highever, and Leonas Bryland, future Arl of South Reach. The 3 of them fought together in the Battle of White River, which was the worse defeat the rebels suffered in the war against Orlais, and only 50 of the initial thousand soldier strong fereldan army survived.

Rendon was very badly injured during the battle, and Bryce and Leonas had to dragged him away to safety as the rebel army was crushed by the orlesians. Bryce was injured in the arm while trying to save Rendon from a chevalier. They got Rendon to Redcliffe and stayed with him for a month while he recovered before leaving to rejoin Maric and the rest of the rebel forces. While Rendon recovered in Redcliffe, he was tended to by Leonas's sister, Eliane, until he eventually recovered months later. He eventually proposed to her and they got married.

And here is the first bit of evidence we get of Rendon's attitude and behaviour completely changing after that battle and his wounds. From the wiki: "Leonas had become concerned by the changes in his friend's behavior since the battle and attempted to prevent the marriage." And some other quotes from Leonas that we get to her in dao: "Rendon Howe was no friend of mine. The boy I knew... died at the Battle of White River" and "That he didn't die years ago is the only thing worth mourning here." Leonas cut all contact with Rendon after he told him that he was only marrying his sister for her dowry and connections.

This goes back to what I mentioned earlier about the one person that seemed to care for Rendon. That person is Bryce Cousland.

Bryce and Eleanor were the only people that attended Rendon and Eliane's wedding, and even though Rendon was treated as a pariah by almost everyone in fereldan nobility, Bryce still maintained a friendly relation with Rendon, and seemed to have an almost protective attitude towards him, which contrasts greatly with how Leonas feels about Rendon. And this is where I came up with another theory about why this is. I believe that Bryce feels personally responsible for the injuries and near death that Rendon suffered during the Battle of White River and feels that he is somehow obligated to look after him. I can only hc why these could be, but maybe Rendon got injured while protecting Bryce, or maybe Bryce's actions during the battle led to Rendon's injuries. Maybe that's why Bryce seems to have keep pushing for the friendship that he once had with him, even though he clearly no longer was the same person. Cause Bryce felt responsible for the way Rendon had turned out.

Its possible that Rendon was just always like this, and those months he spent recovering just made him become super resentful against everything and everyone, but I do believe that the near death injuries he suffered during that battle, including possible head injuries and brain trauma, led to his personality changing and to him becoming the sheer villain we see ingame.

And to finish, a bit of background as to why Rendon would have hated Bryce even despite of this, here's a bit of info about them and about the relation between Highever and Amaranthine.

Rendon's father, Tarleton, supported Orlais during their occupation of Ferelden, and was eventually hanged by the Couslands before the Howes officially joined the rebellion. Adding the fact that Highever was once part of Amaranthine before they rebelled to gain their independence and annexed a good part of southern Amaranthine after winning their independence war, it adds some context to how Rendon could have seen this part of his greater vengeance against the Couslands and Highever for killing his father and taking away land from Amaranthine.

TL,DR: Rendon Howe suffered grieveous injuries during the war against Orlais, including possible brain injuries which may have led to a complete personality shift and to him becoming the person that we see him being in the game.

[vulptilla]

don't talk to me or my overly modded dragon age origins ever again

[laurelsofhighever]

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins Characters/pairings: Alistair x Cousland Chapter: 10/? Rating: G Warnings: None Fic Summary: The story of the Fifth Blight, in a world where Alistair was raised to royalty instead of joining the Grey Wardens.

Read it on AO3

--

“I don’t see why I had to come along. Fergus is the one who’s going to be the teyrn.”

The high, plaintive voice could barely be heard over the thunder of rain on the window glass, the speaker further muffled by the thick woollen blanket that had been wrapped around her shoulders to try and chase away any chills she might catch from being caught in the unexpected downpour. Her sodden boots and outer clothes had already been removed and placed on a rack in front of the fire, and the cooking smells wafting up from the inn’s kitchen confirmed that the servants were well into the preparation of a warming evening meal.

Bryce Cousland observed his daughter’s sullen lower lip with a tickle of amusement fighting through his practiced stoicism. When they had set out almost a week before, Rosslyn had been more than eager, sitting proud on the back of her pony as their entourage followed them out of the gate with pennants streaming and armour aglitter in the sunlight. He knew for a fact that she had been boasting for days to Ser Edgbert’s lad about being old enough to join the yearly progress to collect the teyrnir’s dues. It was only the change in weather, the distance of the warm castle and Nan’s baking as she shivered, that doused her excitement now.

With a sigh, he knelt and folded her hands into his so he could chafe some warmth into them. “It never hurts to have knowledge of things, Pup,” he told her gently. “Fergus will be teyrn, yes, but one day you might have your own lands to govern, and a Cousland should govern well.”

“If I do, it’ll be somewhere with less rain,” she grumbled, shrugging deeper into her blanket.

He chuckled. “I’m afraid neither tithing nor battle stop for rain.”

A long moment of silence followed as Rosslyn chewed over the old saying, her pale face scrunched in a frown. Aldous, in his dry, dour way, had taken care to teach her the basic principles of a ruler’s duty, impressed with the weight of tradition so the lesson stuck, but she was bright, and getting old enough to question the simpler truths of earlier childhood.

“The Orlesians tithed too, didn’t they?” she asked eventually, uncertain. “That’s why we fought them.”

“Yes, Pup,” he said, “and you should remember that, so that you don’t become like them.” With a creak of cold joints, he eased himself up next to her on the threadbare sofa and guided her onto his lap to better rub feeling back into her arms, using the action to craft his next words with care.

“You see, the Orlesians took too much. They did not care whether the people would have enough to keep themselves in hard times, and they did not use what they took for common good, only to fatten themselves up.”

“Like pigs!” she cried, with the vindictive relish of the young, and giggled when he poked a teasing finger into her ribs.

“Like pigs,” he agreed. “They only took and took and took, and a pig only gives back once it’s butchered. When we take, we must do so only so we can return the cost in kind.”

“But…” She frowned again. “We don’t give the coin back?”

Bryce smiled, glad for her inquisitiveness. For three days the strongcart and storage wagons had been filled with the tithes owed by Highever’s freeholders and merchants, each one marked off in the ledger he carried in his own saddlebag and which now lay over the end of the corner bed. She had watched the transactions from a vantage point secure on his knee so that she might learn the way of things, and helped her fill in the tallies when she wasn’t doodling in the margins.

“Not as such, no,” he explained, as the rain made a renewed assault upon the inn’s roof. “But we use it for things that the freeholders wouldn’t be able to get for themselves.”

“Like what?”

“Well let’s see…” He stroked his beard. “We maintain the roads, so that travellers don’t lose their cartwheels or injure their animals, we outfit the militia in case they’re needed, we manage the woods and the fields and store grain for bad years – all sorts of things.”

“But how do you know not to take too much?” she asked, after another thoughtful pause.

“Well, what have you learned since leaving the castle?” he countered.

Aldous often complained of his young charge’s flightiness, her preference for the lists over the library, but her memory was honed like a blade edge, wielded with the attention to detail required of a future swordmaster. As she recounted the story of the wolf troubling the flocks in the Culodhne Hills, and the wilt that had taken the crops near Tarleton, he caught a glimpse of what she would become, dutiful and clever, a blossom for the court that, like the blackthorn in the field, would yet hide iron strength beneath its flowing white mantle. For now, however, he caught the droop of eyelids made heavy by the storm’s chill, the way her head nodded against his arm, and chuckled to himself. The future could wait until after bedtime.

[harrycollins]

➛DRAGON AGE ORIGINS I REPLAY (14/?)

Cousland’s Gauntlet

[saltlordofold]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Duncan (Dragon Age), Male Cousland (Dragon Age), Bryce Cousland, Eleanor Cousland, Oriana Cousland, Oren Cousland, Original Characters, Alistair (Dragon Age) (brief appearance) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Suicidal Thoughts, lore dump, Child death (mentioned), Animal Death (Fish), Highever (Dragon Age) Summary:

My telling of Duncan's brief's stay in Highever, and the bloody events that unfolded there.

“As a general rule, Duncan seldom allowed himself the complacency of optimism. Too much of it, life had taught him, often proved counterproductive: not unlike a healing salve, optimism had a tendency to dull the senses against incoming dangers. It lulled the unsuspecting mind into illusions of security, which in turn could fester into over-confidence - and over-confidence, in his line of work, had always proved to be risky business.

In Highever's great stone hall, however, bathed in the warmth of a dozen fires, with a full cup of wine in his hand as he stood watching three young couples’ hands be joined in marriage, Duncan searched his heart for at least a sliver of the perilous sentiment. On the eve of battle, he had decided, a morsel of hope was the most fitting gift he could think of offering the newlyweds.” 

(Read more)

I finally lore dumped about the Couslands and life in Highever right before, uh, you know what.