#squire the warhound

[crys-makes-art]

Greet the bloodless dawn, children of a tired Bone Man

[aarongoldenwrites]

Warden Elissa “Sparrow” Cousland - the Prologue

Playing Dragon Age Origins (again) and working through a maybe canon playthrough and wanted to talk about it a bit. 

My canon Warden is Elissa “Sparrow” Cousland, born in 9:09 Dragon. She was a curious and faithful child who loved stories of the Wardens and the Maker, and of the wars her parents fought in. She started practicing both sword and bowplay when she was seven, showing no clear promise with either. However, she fought frequently with her older brother, Fergus, a sibling rivalry that came on strong and vicious and which their parents couldn’t seem to solve. 

In 9:20 Dragon, at eleven years old, she was kidnapped while visiting some of the outlying regions of her family’s territory, near Redcliffe. She overheard the kidnappers talking about how her family was killed and had no reason to doubt them, but she managed to escape and fled to Redcliffe village, living on the streets for a year. 

(unknown to her, her mother killed their attackers and reconvened with Fergus and Bryce, regrouping at Harper’s Ford. Rendon Howe demanded to lead the investigation and was so incensed that he killed all the kidnappers before they could be questioned). 

Elissa hid her identity so as not to draw the attention of the people that killed her family, taking the name Sparrow. She picked up a knack for picking locks while living under the docks, but was caught by the local Templars in Dragon 9:21 and shipped off to Denerim as an orphan child that had managed to annoy the locals. 

She escaped in Denerim, too, keeping herself alive by stealing from the marketplace and hanging out with the elves. In Dragon 9:23, when Sparrow was 14 and Fergus was 16, Fergus visited Denerim and was pickpocketed by Sparrow. He chased her down and while the two were fighting Fergus recognized her. 

A heartfelt reunion followed: Fergus had blamed himself for the death of his sister and Sparrow was delighted to find out her family wasn’t dead. The entire family came to Denerim for a reunion, and Sparrow’s old childhood friend, the squire Gilmore, was assigned to duty of keeping her safe. 

(Bryce and Eleanor privately met with the elves that had taken in their little girl and kept her somewhat safe. Cyrion and Adaia Tabris were offered protection, but preferred to stay and work with the elves in Denerim but didn’t want the attention a public relationship would give them; instead, they asked for permission to smuggle elves to Highever and for some funding to keep the alienage in good repair, something the Couslands were happy enough to do)

(elves smuggled into Highever were given good paying jobs in the keep, and quickly took over the job of rearing children. They were given their own private quarters within the keep, taught to read and write, and found their children educated along with the rest of the staff; whatever else might be said of them, the Couslands took their debts seriously)  

Once home, Sparrow refused to be called Elissa. Her time on her own had inflicted her with malnutrition and left her with a haunted, pallid constitution. Puberty had set in during her absence and she’d developed into a rail thin ghost of a girl who still liked picking locks and playing least-in-sight. She’d also had her faith in the Maker severely shaken while her loyalty to her family (back from the dead, in her mind) became her principle focus. 

Her father tried to bring her up to speed in swordplay but she lacked the constitution and strength for it; her mother, however, found her an apt student of the bow. Soon, she proved to be quite the markswoman, picking up lost skills and improving on them, and was soon considered to be the best archer in Highever.            

Disaster struck in 9:27 Dragon, when Sparrow was 18 years old; a poisoner managed to sleep into the castle and poisoned the food of the royal family. Sparrow, always quick to eat whatever was put in front of her from her time in Denerim, was the first to feel the effects. A healer was sent for and magic used to cure the family, but Sparrow was the first poisoned and last healed and lost her voice. Only able to speak in whispers, she lost a little more of her durability, catching pneumonia during her recovery. 

(Her parents, realizing that their strange daughter was a magnet for trouble, bought her a mabari warhound. Their hope was that the dog would keep her safe)  

Knowing that she was unlikely to ever leave Highever given her frail constitution, she focused her mind on castle logistics and politics, largely putting her bow aside to spend more time with her mother and father. Fergus was expected to inherit and got married and had a kid, but Sparrow’s strangeness made her an enigma at various parties and balls. She imagined she would marry Gilmore and be done with it, despite the mutual lack of attraction (the two of them were very good friends).  

(The Couslands covered up the time she was missing and the period of time she was recovering from the poison, so her strange behavior and rasping voice had no easy explanation and the truth never came out) 

And that brings us to the start of the first game.  

[allisondraste]

Temperance (28/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:    Liss celebrates a solemn eighteenth birthday with a dog, a duel, and her whole family.

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:25 Dragon

Dear Nate,

I feel like such a little fool for writing a third letter after the first two have gone unanswered.  Maybe I am. Maybe I’ve always been ridiculous for thinking that you cared about me. Maybe I fooled myself.  It is so very in character for me to run away with my imagination, after all.

I keep telling myself that this is just you doing that irritating thing you do where you shut down instead of feel things. When you were here, it was so easy to snap you out of it. I could knock on your door until the knocking was more annoying than the feelings.  I could send Fergus to tease you out of your head. I could see your face, see in your eyes that you didn’t actually hate me. You were just sad.

It’s harder to do that without you here.  I can’t tell if you’re annoyed with me or relieved that I am still bothering to care, even though you’re being an absolute arse, and I would be completely justified for hating you, tossing down my pen, and forgetting you ever existed.  At this point, I kind of wish I could. It would hurt less, at least.

Maybe you’ve found someone else.  If that’s the case, I’m glad. I’m happy that one of us has the ability to move on. Please feel free to forget I ever said anything about being in love with you. I’d be content with just having my friend back.

I guess that’s what hurts the most. I spent my whole childhood with you by my side. You were the person who I ran to whenever I was hurt or upset, the person I told all of my silly stories to, the person I trusted with all my secrets.  I also spent a lot of time being there for you. I dealt with your cold shoulder when your father was around. I dealt with your moodiness. I dealt with all of it because that’s what best friends do.

Maker, Nate, I’m not asking you to marry me.  I am asking you to be my best friend again. Please.

Love,

Liss

P.S. Fergus says hello.  He also says that if he ever sees you again he is going to hug you first, then kick your arse.  I told him he’d have to beat me to it.

Liss folded the parchment, slid it into an envelope, and sealed it with a wax stamp that bore her family crest, a ritual she completed each year in the hope that it would summon her friend’s head out of his own arse.  Alas, she wasn’t a mage, and her letters would go unanswered, as Nate forgot she existed. Tears burned hot in her eyes, but she would not let them fall. Not this time.  

A warm, heavy weight fell on her lap, accompanied by a soft huff and she laughed, looking down to see the massive, honey-colored mabari that lay his head on her.

She gave him a gentle scratch behind the ears, causing his entire rear end to wiggle.  “You worry about me too much, Bear.”

Bear raised up and barked in objection.  

“Oh, now you just sound like my mother,” she teased, and the dog panted happily, before rolling over and presenting his belly to be scratched. “Nuh-uh, Nope. Not after that tone, mister.”

Bear whimpered, rose to his paws, and slinked over to the corner of the room, where he plopped down on the floor to sulk and stare at Liss with big, pitiful eyes.  

Liss unintentionally became Bear’s chosen partner nearly a year prior.  She’d wandered into the kennels to search for Fergus, and the dog who was little more than a puppy, ran to her immediately.  Fergus arrived several moments later entirely disgusted. He’d been trying to get one of the dogs to imprint on him since he was a boy, with no luck.  Now, he insisted on referring to Bear as “not a real warhound” and “an oversized lap dog.” He was just jealous.

Ignoring the hounds pity party, Liss placed the envelope aside and picked up another that was addressed to her in familiar, elegant handwriting.  She tore the seal.

Dear Liss,

Happy birthday, sweet friend! I hope this letter finds you well, and that it arrives on (or at least very near) your actual birthday.  Otherwise I fear this might seem somewhat strange. Then again, you’ve always been rather fond of strange. How else could you have put up with my brothers and I for all of these years.

I apologize that it has been so long since I last wrote to you.  Things have been… uncomfortable since Nathaniel left, and they’ve only gotten worse.  Tom is completely self-destructive. I am waiting for the day when he snaps at Father. It would be unfair of me to expect him to have as much restraint as Nate, to always take everything on his shoulders so that everything would be as peaceful as it could be. We miss him dearly.

I sometimes think all of our problems would be solved if by brothers could trade places.  Thomas would get his freedom from Father he’s always wanted, and Nate could be home, behaving in an annoyingly responsible fashion.

Maybe he also would not insist on ignoring everyone who cares about him.  I know he probably still hasn’t written to you either. I am not a fighter like you are, but I am smart, and I know what to say to break him with my words.  I have yet to pay him back for destroying my favorite doll when we were little, after all.

Sorry— I know the last thing you probably want to talk about is my family life or my bull-headed brother .  I just… well, there is nobody else to talk to. It’s lonely more times than not. How are you doing? How is Fergus? Little Oren? He must be growing so fast!

I hope that I can visit you soon!

Much Love,

Delilah

Liss wiped a stubborn tear from her face.  She had nearly forgotten her own birthday. Bear was at her side again, nudging her with his nose. She placed her hand on his head to acknowledge his comfort and then sighed. Poor Delilah.

She pulled another piece of parchment from her desk.  She did not know what to say to Delilah, but she’d not let that keep her from sending a response.  Letters deserved answers even if they were hard.

Dear Delilah,

You have excellent timing, as always. Thank you for reminding me of my own birthday. Whatever would I do without you?

I am so sorry to hear that things have been difficult for you since Nathaniel left.  I wish there were something I could say to make things better, but I have not even learned what to say to myself.  I’m not convinced that words help anything at all. I miss Nate, too. I only hope that he is all right.

My family and I are well! Fergus is a proud pop, and just as doting of a father as I would have expected of him.  Oren is absolutely getting so big and I’ve spoiled him already. I think Oriana may resent me for that.

Anyway, it is lovely to hear from you, my friend.  You should come visit soon. The summer festival perhaps?  I’d love to see you.

Love,

Liss

Just as Liss finished the letter and sealed the envelope, there was a knock at the door, and Bear barked immediately, scurrying over to claw at the wooden surface.  He wagged his tail playfully, and she was assured that whoever it was on the other side was safe. Not that anyone unsafe had ever been at her door.

Liss hopped up and rushed to open the door, shushing the excited hound and holding him back by the collar so that he didn’t immediately tackle her visitor.  

“Ser Gilmore,” she said, smiling as she saw the young knight’s bright red hair and brown eyes.  He was obviously proud of his newly granted knighthood, and flattered by Liss’ remembrance of it, as he held his chin up proudly, even as a pink tint spread over his face.

“Thank you Lady Cousland,” he said, “Most people have yet to become accustomed to me no longer being a squire.”

“By most people, do you happen to mean my brother?” Liss shifted her weight and placed a hand on her hip.

Ser Gilmore laughed and scratched the back of his neck.  “He is the biggest offender, my lady.”

“I’ll wag my finger at him about it for you,” Liss promised, winking.

“You are too kind, my lady.”

“Anyway, I am sure you didn’t come to talk about my brother.  What do you need?”

“Well,” the man began, looking down at the floor, “I wanted to ask if you might be willing to spar with me, my lady.”

“You know that I am always up for a fight.” Liss said, then furrowed her brows, “But why?”

“That Grey Warden, Duncan, is here looking for recruits.”

“He is? Huh.  I didn’t know you wanted to be a Grey Warden.”

“It is a childhood dream of mine. The Grey Wardens are heroes, and they only allow the best among their ranks.”  

Ser Gilmore became more and more animated as he spoke. Liss understood completely.  She’d read of Grey Wardens her whole life. She asked her father a thousand times if she could join some day. His answer was always the same chuckle and resounding “no.”  Helping Ser Gilmore was the closest she’d ever get to that glistening griffon armor.

“You hope to impress Duncan by fighting me? A girl? The daughter of the Teyrn?” She meant none of her words, but she’d heard them enough it was instinct to toss them out before anyone else could.  She knew damn well she was twice as good a fighter as half of her father’s army. She was three times better than Fergus, and she didn’t let him forget it.

As if reading her mind, Ser Gilmore flashed her a knowing smile. “There is no more worthy opponent in Highever, my lady.”

Liss snorted. “Well, now I have to do it. Flatterer.”

“I speak only the truth.” He nodded humbly. “Thank you, my lady.  I will be waiting down in the courtyard whenever you are ready.”

Ser Gilmore bowed and turned to walk away, and Liss closed the door behind him so that she could put on her gambeson and grab her sword.  It was a rusty blade that she’d taken from the barracks just a couple years before, but it was her favorite, and she didn’t want any of the castle guards to use it.  In the corner of the room, where the broadsword leaned against the wall, a longbow and quiver of arrows lay as well. Before she picked up the blade, she took the bow in her hands, running her thumb across the letter N that was etched into the wood.  She didn’t want the castle guards to use it either.

Outside, the castle was quiet, little more than the pattering of rain against stone to fill the air.  It had been that way for weeks now, ever since news reached Highever that King Maric was missing, presumed dead.  Ferelden lost its great leader, and even the weather mourned him. Liss knew such superstitions were silly, but she could find little other explanation for the exceptionally cool, rainy weather in the second week of Justinian. Cailan had some big, gregarious shoes to fill.

Ser Gilmore stood alone near the sparring area, hand on the hilt of his blade and looking up at the battlements, clearly watching for signs of Duncan.  The Grey Warden had a knack for showing up at opportune moments, and Liss had no doubt he would appear during their duel. Bear ran ahead of her to greet the knight and she quickened her pace to keep up with him.  

Ser Gilmore gave the hound a scratch behind the ears, which seemed to satisfy him and he walked over to lay under the awning of a shed, watching the match where he could be dry. Smart boy.   Liss, on the other hand, regretted that she hadn’t taken the time to braid her hair, or pull it back in any sort of fashion, as the long curls stuck to her face and neck. Annoying, but not a hindrance.

“You ready, Soldier,” Liss teased, drawing her sword from its sheath strapped on her back, and adjusting her grip so that the hint sat comfortably in her hands.

“So long as you are, Lady Cousland,” Ser Gilmore replied, sliding his longsword from his sheath and lifting his shield that bore the laurel branch crest.  

A smirk twitched at the corner of Liss’ mouth and she took a deep breath before charging at her opponent, swinging her sword forcefully, so that it crashed into his shield and staggered him.  He nearly lost his balance, but managed to stabilize himself in enough time to swing at her. She parried, and prepared to hit him again. They were a good match skillswise, and they and spent several minutes exchanging blows, back and forth, over and over, as the clanking of steel against steel filled the somber air.  Liss could have beaten him at any moment were she to fight dirty, but Ser Gilmore was a Knight, and it would be unfair to be anything but honorable. It was not long until they both were too winded to continue, each pausing to catch their breath.

“You’ve shaped up,” Liss commented through gasps of air.

“You as well,” Ser Gilmore said, laughing and sounding just as out of breath as she was.

Three slow claps echoed from across the Courtyard, and both snapped their heads toward the direction of the sound.  Just as Liss expected, Duncan was there, arriving just in time to see the fight. Papa stood next to him, wearing a proud grin.

“Well done,” Duncan said, “Both of you.”

“Thank you,” Ser Gilmore remarked with a nod of his head.  

“Yes, thank you,” Liss added, following suit.

“Bryce, are you certain I can’t take them both,” Duncan asked, looking at her father with a wide grin.

“You may take neither of them,” Papa replied, and Ser Gilmore appeared to deflate beside her, “At least not yet.  Ser Gilmore here may be young, but he’s one of the best we have. I would hate to see him gone so soon after being knighted.  Perhaps in a few years he will be ready to move on.” He glanced at the young knight and winked, causing him to sigh in relief.

“And your daughter,” Duncan asked, seeming to prod her father even further.

“Never,” Papa answered quickly, “Even If Elissa wished to join—“

“I do, Papa,” Liss interjected and he shook his head.

“— It wouldn’t be a proper role for her.  She has responsibilities to our family. Not to mention, Eleanor would never allow it.  Not her darling girl, not ever.”

“I understand.” Duncan nodded solemnly, and turned to offer Liss and Ser Gilmore a kind smile, before looking back at her father.  “Is there anyone else?”

“Yes.  Right this way.”  Papa motioned to Duncan with his hand and the two men walked away.

Liss turned to face Ser Gilmore, and reached out to clap him on the shoulder.  “I’m sorry.”  

“There is nothing to be sorry for, my lady,” he answered, placing his gloved hand over her own that remained on his pauldron and meeting her gaze with a soft, crooked smile.  

He loved her in his own way.  She could tell in the look of reverence on his face each time he spoke to her.  It was in his constant attention to her safety and comfort even when he wasn’t on duty.  She should have been delighted to have the unwavering affection of a handsome knight. Delilah would have been.  A much younger, more imaginative Liss would have been. It had been a fanciful little girl dream for a knight in shining armor to swoop in and win her heart.  She was not sure when that changed, when the desire for powerful, earth shattering romance disappeared, but it had. She wished, more than anything, to be her own knight in shining armor, and to win her own heart back.  If it decided to return from the Free Marches of it’s own accord, well, she wouldn’t mind that either.

It would have been simpler if Ser Gilmore didn’t love her. Maybe then she could let herself get lost in the fantasy, forget about grumpy, raven-haired boys that wouldn’t return her letters.  However, Ser Gilmore was the kindest of kind men, and she wouldn’t use him like that, especially considering that it could get him in all sorts of trouble for fraternizing with one of his charges. No, if she wanted a distraction, she’d have to find someone else.

Liss had barely gotten dried off and settled in her quarters with a book and Bear’s head across her lap, when another knock thumped on her door.  It was to the rhythm of Andraste’s Mabari, and Liss laughed and shook her head, before Bear had the chance to bark at it. She hopped up and ran to the door eagerly.

“Fergus,” she said before she even opened the door to see her brother’s goofy grin and pudgy little Oren in his arms, big brown eyes framed by dark brown curls.  He had a wooden soldier figurine in his mouth. Oriana stood behind them smiling pleasantly.  

“Oren, tell auntie Liss happy birthday,” Fergus said, bouncing him up and down a few times, “She’s all grown up now.” Oren took the soldier out of his mouth and made some barely intelligible noise that she figured was supposed to be “happy birthday,” then giggled and reached for her with both arms.

Her heart swelled. “Oh come here, you handsome boy,” she cooed as she took him from Fergus’ arms to hold him at her hip with one arm.  He tangled his little hands in her damp hair and she knew it was only a matter of time before it would be in his mouth, too. She looked up at Fergus and Oriana, motioning for them to come inside.

“Happy birthday, sis,” Fergus said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“Happy birthday, Elissa,” Oriana chimed in, extending out a small, beautifully wrapped package, which Liss took with her free hand.  “Fergus insisted on picking it out, but I wrapped it for him.”

“I hope you like it,” Fergus stated proudly.

“Here, Oren, help me out,” she said holding the package up to him.  He released a fistful of her hair to grab hold of one end of the deep purple ribbon.  Liss pulled the package away from him, so that the ribbon came loose and the packaging fell away, revealing a small, leatherbound journal.  On the front, it had a large letter E in script, surrounded by a wreath of laurel branches.

“Oh,” Liss remarked hoarsely, a lump forming in her throat, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“It’s been a long time since you wrote anything except letters,” Fergus explained, “I figured I could help with that.  I do miss sneaking into your room and reading all of your stories.”

“I’m still not over that invasion of privacy, you know,” Liss stated tersely.

“That’s fine,” he replied with a shrug.  

The door creaked open again, and her parents entered the room.  Mama rushed immediately to her to dote upon Oren, taking him from her arms and humming one of her old pirate songs to him.  Oriana appeared to be only a little bit irritated by the notion. Papa walked on more slowly, appearing to hold something behind his back.  His smile stretched the entirety of his face causing his eyes to wrinkle up at the sides.

“You have something for me there, Papa,” Liss teased, walking over to meet him.  Everyone watched as he pulled a sword from behind his back and handed it to her. She took it with both hands, wrapping one around the filigreed hilt to slide it from its sheath.  It was the most beautiful weapon she’d ever seen, so beautiful that it was disarming. An interesting choice for a broadsword, but she could not have adored it any more.  

“Happy birthday, pup,” her papa spoke up, voice cracking with emotion, “Your mother and I are so proud of the young lady you’ve grown into.  We couldn’t think of a more fitting gift for our girl.”

Returning the sword to its sheath and setting it against the wall, she ran to him, and he embraced her in the warm, fatherly way he always had, squeezing tightly. “Thank you,” she said, and then pulled back away to look at everyone in the room, her family, and her heart felt so full. “Thank you all.”

For a moment, the missing piece didn’t seem so large.  She didn’t feel so alone.