Chapter One: Castle Cousland

Shields and silver armor glittered in the sunlight as the troops marched outside of the courtyard of Castle Cousland, their chain mail rattling as they moved at a steady pace, the swords on their backs swaying slightly as they walked, the shields at their sides emblazoned with the crest of the Couslands. This spectacle was all rather exciting to young warrior and Teyrness Yvaine Cousland as she watched from her bedroom window, she was supposed to be getting ready to meet her mother and greet Lady Landra Loren but she found the soldiers marching off to battle far more interesting than the dress on her bed. She pulled herself away from the window reluctantly, she would have rather been out there with them marching onto Ostagar than be trapped in this castle where she was to be Teyrn in place of her father.

"Teyrna, Mother would have said," chuckled Yvaine softly as she looked at the blue silk dress her mother and sister-in-law had picked out for her, then she looked at the armor she had placed on the mannequin beside her shield and sword. She smiled to herself, 'That seems much more appropriate, given the circumstances,' and she stuffed the dress into her rucksack, then she began placing her armor on, reveling in the feeling of steel and leather than that of silk.

"My lady, your father has requested your presence in the great hall," said the maid from outside her door.

"Thank you, Gwyn, inform Father I will be down momentarily," replied Yvaine as she adjusted the gauntlets on her wrists, she then pulled her sheathed long blade over her shoulder followed by her shield. She looked over at the mirror on her wall and smiled, although she was a highborn lady, she felt more comfortable being a warrior and was glad when her parents had encouraged her interest in swords when she was a small girl. They had started her training out with a private trainer whom visited the castle nearly everyday and taught her the art of swordplay, her father had supervised on her mother's request to make sure she was not harmed during the sessions.

Her swords master had told her from the start she was a natural and had been surprised at how quickly she had grasped the concept of sword fighting, at his suggestion she was moved to the boy's training group where she sparred with her brother Fergus and his friends. She laughed as she remembered knocking Fergus onto his back during a rather spirited sparring match that had been brought about by a trivial argument about which Mabari war hound pup would be theirs, 'Speaking of which, where is that dog?' She looked around her room only to realize he was gone, 'Probably off hunting little field mice, poor mice,' she thought as she adjusted her golden hair in the twisted braid her maid Gwyn had taught her when she was about sixteen, her mother had insisted on the braid after she was told to stop chopping her hair off just to fit her helmet on her head.

"I hope Father wasn't expecting a Teyrness," she mumbled as she exited her room and made the long walk to her family's throne room, everywhere she looked there was evidence of her father and brother's inevitable departure for Ostagar with most of their family's soldiers. Her family's colors were flying from every turret and hung from nearly every wall, the soldiers that were leaving were polishing up their best armor and sharpening their blades as they loitered around the castle waiting for their turn to leave. She heard several of the soldiers talking quietly in the various corners, from what she heard as she passed by, there was someone at the castle of an important nature that made all of the guards quite excited.

'Probably Queen Anora,' thought Yvaine, she rolled her eyes in exasperation, their queen was indeed quite beautiful but she was a not the warmest of people, she had learned this after King Cailan and Queen Anora had visited the castle during their wedding campaign. That was five years ago now when she was fourteen, Yvaine remembered being impressed with how beautiful and regal Anora had looked during dinner but she seemed rather cold towards her new husband whom flirted openly with other women, most of it directed towards the Elven maids. How long ago that evening seemed now, in the days before the war with the darkspawn and the various conflicts between the kingdoms that were beginning to be reported, when there was new hope for all of Ferelden. Yvaine sighed, lately nothing seemed to be going how her father, Rendon Arl Howe, and Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir had predicted long ago at that dinner when they were happily toasting the new reign of King Cailan and Queen Anora.

Yvaine arrived at the side door that led straight into the great hall, she was about to knock when she heard voices, her natural curiosity got the better of her, inclining her to watch the scene unfolding by looking through the decent sized crack in the door. She could see her father standing by the fireplace, several troops were lining the room, two were blocking the man her father was obviously talking to so she could not see him clearly.

"I trust, then, that your troops will be here shortly?" she heard her father Teyrn Bryce Cousland say to an unknown man, his voice echoing in the large room.

"I expect they will start arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow," said a voice Yvaine recognized as Arl Rendon Howe's and she pressed herself closer to the door to hear clearer what they were saying, "I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault."

"No, no," said Bryce, and she watched him turn to face Howe, "The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago, myself. I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!" Bryce moved from his position by the fireplace and stood next to his old friend.

Yvaine looked at her father and Howe, she was struck at the stark contrast of both of these men especially in appearance. Her father still looked young with a sharp jaw line and his other features softer though his hair was shorter and had gone gray, he stood proudly with his head held high whereas Howe seemed to stoop with age and the stress of his many years in both war and politics. His hair was thinner than her father's and his nose was noticeably larger with a decent sized bump protruding from the bridge, his eyes were smaller and more beady like those of a rat whereas her father's always twinkled with a sparkle of youth and adventure. Howe and her father both had beards though her father's was much more filled in and gave him the look of a king whereas Howe's only increased his likeness to a rat.

"True," said Howe cooly, as he dismissed his guard, "Though we both had less gray in our hair then. And we fought Orlesians, not. . .monsters."

Bryce's laughter filled the great hall, "At least the smell will be the same."

Yvaine could no longer resist being out of the loop of the conversation and quietly opened the door, walking to her father with the grace and majesty her mother had instilled within her since she was a small girl. Bryce turned to his youngest and smiled as he watched her enter the room, she returned his smile, she always enjoyed spending time with her father even if it was spent attending strategy meetings or something just as important where she was required to only speak when given the opportunity. Although she had been raised to have her own opinion and speak her own mind, most soldiers and other courtiers were not used to hearing a woman of such status speak in the manner she did, most were appalled to hear that she spent her time sparring instead of sewing.

"I'm sorry pup; I didn't see you there," said Bryce warmly, he turned to Howe, "Howe, you remember my daughter Yvaine?"

"I see she's become a lovely young woman," said Howe a gnarled grin etching his features, Yvaine felt her skin crawl, "Pleased to see you again, my dear."

"And I am pleased to see you, Arl Howe," said Yvaine, a smile ghosting her lips as she looked at the elder man, she continued with the pleasantries that were expected of a person of her station, "Tell me, is your family with you?"

"Oh no, dear," said Howe, "I left them behind in Amaranthine, well away from the fighting going on in the south. They do send their best wishes, however. As a matter of fact, my son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time?"

"As flattered as I am," said Yvaine, taking great pains to not offend the Arl though she desperately wanted to put him in his place, "I do not enjoy the idea of an arranged marriage, I would prefer to marry on my own terms if I am to marry at all."

Bryce chuckled warmly to the obvious disapproval of Howe, "That's my fierce daughter for you, Howe, she has a mind of her own these days, Maker bless her heart."

Howe nodded slightly, "This opinionated mind she possesses is likely the result of you bringing her up as a warrior, how unique that is, Cousland."

"Indeed," said Bryce coldly, always defensive whenever his daughter's upbringing was brought up, "Anyway, pup, I have summoned you here for a reason. As you know, your brother Fergus and I are riding south to assist King Cailan in the war against the darkspawn, and until we return you are in charge of the castle."

Yvaine nodded, her jaw set in determination, "Yes, sir, Mother has already informed me of the situation."

Bryce sighed, but he was still smiling, "I guess it is nearly impossible to get the upper hand on your mother when it comes to telling you anything that goes on in this castle."

"Indeed," giggled Yvaine, then she became serious, "Though I would prefer to ride into battle with both you and Fergus, Father."

"I know, dear girl," said Bryce, "You'd probably prove yourself an excellent soldier but I am not willing to deal with your mother if you ride off to war with us. You know she'd kill me if I let her only daughter go to war, she's already tearing her hair out over Fergus and I leaving."

"Perhaps I could convince her to let me go," suggested Yvaine hopefully even though she knew in her heart that was a lost cause in and of itself.

"I doubt that would get you anywhere," laughed Bryce, "You know how your mother gets, and she made it clear there would be no debating the issue."

Yvaine sighed, she knew her father was right about her mother and it was frustrating, all she wanted to do was become a true warrior instead of only dressing and practicing like one while still being expected to behave and speak as a noble lady.

"Dear, this is no needless task," said Bryce tenderly as if sensing his daughter's disappointment, "I ask you to take a great deal of responsibility. Only a token force is remaining here, and you must keep peace within the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes? Oh, there is also someone I want you to meet. Please, show Duncan in."

The knight behind Bryce gave the signal and the guards at the door opened the door to reveal an intimidating yet surprisingly welcoming man, he was about as tall as Bryce and looked to be only a few years younger though his hair which was pulled into a ponytail, was still as dark as a raven's feather matching his beard. His skin was a coppery color that seemed to shimmer in the firelight as he passed by the torches in the room, he wore armor that seemed to be custom made, indicating that he not the typical warrior.

"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland," said Duncan as he stood between Howe and Bryce as if they were all friends from a long time he spoke, Yvaine felt both at ease and on edge, as if every word he spoke was of a great deal of importance yet he still wanted those listening to remain calm.

Howe appeared rather unsettled and surprised that Duncan was here at the castle though he was quick to cover his shock, "Your lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present."

"So you're why the knights have been so excited," said Yvaine, smiling at Duncan, "and here I thought the Queen was visiting."

Duncan laughed, "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or complimented that I excite knights as Her Majesty does."

Yvaine laughed with him, she knew her comment was probably not what her father and Howe expected but it was an ice breaker that seemed to be needed at this moment in time.

Bryce glanced at his old friend, a frown creasing his brow, "Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?"

Yvaine looked at Howe whom seemed to be having an inner struggle with himself about what to say regarding Duncan's presence in the castle, "Of course not, but a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am . . . at a disadvantage."

Yvaine could tell he was making up what he was saying, while having a Grey Warden in the house did require a particular welcome, it was not often required of other guests of the host to demonstrate the same splendor as the person the Warden was visiting.

"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that's true," conceded Bryce, then he looked at Yvaine, "Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope."

"Yes, Father," replied Yvaine proudly, "They're an order of great warriors."

Bryce swelled with pride, "They are the heros of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all. Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Duncan nodded but then looked over at Yvaine, "If I might be so bold, my lord, I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate."

Yvaine blushed, something she did not often do, she felt honored and surprised that Duncan thought of her as a potential candidate to become a Grey Warden, she hoped her father would allow her to at least try to become one, this was the chance she had been waiting for her entire life. She looked to her father hopefully but she could already see his mind was made up and it was against what she wanted to be the answer.

"Honor though it might be, this is my daughter we're talking about," said Bryce fiercely, moving between Yvaine and Duncan as if trying to protect her from him, though he did not pose a true threat.

"Father," said Yvaine quietly, not wanting to rouse his anger further, "I rather like the idea of becoming a Grey Warden, I mean, is there a reason I should not?"

Howe chuckled, "You did just finish saying that Grey Wardens are heros, old friend."

Bryce glared at both Duncan and Howe, "I've not so many children that I'll gladly see them all off to battle. Unless, of course, you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription . . .?" He seemed most irritated with the thought of Duncan using this right, Yvaine wanted to ask what it entailed but by the way her father was standing and the tone in his voice, she decided that was a question for another time.

"Have no fear, Teyrn Cousland," said Duncan calmly, obviously he had dealt with resistance such as this before, "While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue."

Bryce seemed relieved and stepped aside, "Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone?"

"Of course, Father," said Yvaine, nodding, "I would be honored to assist the Grey Wardens in anyway I am able."

"Thank you, my lady," said Duncan kindly, "I'm glad to have your assistance, you seem to be a capable woman and your father is right to trust you with Highever."

"You're most kind, Warden," said Yvaine, inclining her head slightly in a small bow.

"Please, call me Duncan, as the rest of the soldiers do," said Duncan, she smiled and was glad he was against the usual protocol that ordinarily ran their lives, and the familiarity in way he spoke and acted towards her was almost like that of an uncle to his favorite niece.

"Now that we are all better acquainted," said Bryce, cheerfully, "Yvaine, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me."

"Yes, of course, Father," said Yvaine deflated, "Do you know where Fergus is? He always seems to be where he should not be"

"For once he's upstairs in his chambers," said Bryce sadly, "spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson, your nephew. Be a good lass, and do as I've asked. We'll speak again soon." He embraced her tightly as he often did whenever he dismissed her, and she returned the gesture with equal strength, clutching onto him fearful that this maybe the last time she would be able to be her father's little girl and find comfort in his arms.

"I'll miss you terribly, Father," whispered Yvaine, trying to stem the tears that threatened to release.

"And I will miss you, Vaine," said Bryce quietly, looking into his daughter's eyes and brushing away a few stray blonde hairs that hung in her face, "I will be home before you know it and then we'll talk about you joining the Grey Wardens."

Yvaine looked up at her father beaming, she was glad he would at least consider the idea of her being a Grey Warden even if it was after the war, "I love you, Father."

"And I love you, pup," replied Bryce softly, releasing her completely, "Now, I have important matters to discuss, run along and find your brother."

Yvaine nodded as the men dispersed, Duncan stood away from her father and Howe whom were standing by the fireplace, she thought this was the perfect opportunity to speak with him more about the Grey Wardens. She walked over to where he stood, to his obvious surprise.

"I'm sorry, my lady," said Duncan quietly, "but I believe your father wishes to speak to the arl and myself alone." He looked at her and inwardly smiled, she was as much her father's daughter as she was her mother's in both looks and temperament, the Couslands had certainly broken the mold when they created their youngest child.

"Oh, I was just hoping to ask a quick question or two," sighed Yvaine turning to leave, faking her disappointment, "but I understand you must be very busy—"

"Wait, my lady," said Duncan quickly, he seemed very excited to have someone ask something of him that was not help, "I doubt your father would mind a slight delay in our meeting."

Yvaine looked around for anyone who might listen in before she proceeded to speak, "Are there really darkspawn in the south?"

Duncan nodded solemnly, "Indeed. We spotted a horde assembling in the Korcari Wilds not three weeks ago. Luckily, King Cailan took us at our word and marshaled Ferelden's forces quickly. The first battles have already been fought. Your father and I must move quickly."

"Sounds very exciting," said Yvaine, a grin breaking out across her face, "Duncan, just how many darkspawn are there?"

"Thousands," said Duncan grimly, "Perhaps ten thousand or more in this horde. Normally, the darkspawn stay in the Deep Roads. It bodes ill that so many risk the surface."

Yvaine could tell this situation was far more serious than she had first thought, "How much danger are my father and brother in fighting against the darkspawn?"

"Well," said Duncan hesitantly, "I understand the first battles have gone rather well."

"Indeed," said Howe proudly, "Are the Grey Wardens sure this is a Blight and not simply some large darkspawn raid?"

"No archdemon has been spotted yet, my lord," admitted Duncan, "But with my entire soul, I believe this is a Blight."

"I wish we shared your faith," said Howe smugly, "I suppose we shall see for ourselves when we arrive at the king's camp."

Duncan shook his head, it was clear to Yvaine he was used to dealing with those who doubted his word, and it was not easy no matter how many times it happened.

"Sir," said Yvaine, walking Duncan away from her father and Howe so they would definitely not hear her next question, "Would you really recruit me for the Grey Wardens?"

"Of course, my lady," said Duncan, smiling at her eager face, "You are young, skilled, and eager for battle, or so your father has told me. The Grey Wardens do not recruit simply anybody, and I intend no flattery when I say you show promise. The old treaties allow me to conscript you even against your father's wishes, but I will not do so. Our order is too small to risk animosity with Ferelden's nobility."

"And glad I am to hear it," said Bryce, he had heard his daughter's question to Duncan but until now had chosen to remain quiet.

"It is tempting, your Lordship," said Duncan glancing at Yvaine as he spoke, "But I am content to see what other candidates your castle offers."

"Good," said Bryce sharply, "As much as I love to indulge my daughter, I am not about to agree to signing her over to you during a war, no matter how much you ask."

Yvaine cast her eyes down at the floor, this seemed to be a rather awkward situation for all persons involved, including herself, "Duncan, did you really travel all of this way just to meet Ser Gilmore?"

"Unfortunately," said Duncan hanging his head slightly, "I have only found a couple of worthy candidates in my travels across Ferelden. Your father invited me here, suggesting this Ser Gilmore. If he is not suitable, I will head south and join up with the king."

"You know King Cailan?" asked Yvaine slightly in awe of Duncan.

"Not well," chuckled Duncan, "King Cailan is an eager young man who has shown great wisdom in responding to the darkspawn threat."

"I've heard he's a bit enraptured with the Grey Warden legend," sneered Howe, "and that is the reason why he caters to your order."

"Howe!" snapped Bryce, "That is unworthy of you."

"He only repeats what we've all heard," said Duncan calmly, "Whatever the king's reasons, I'll take his support. The priority is defeating the darkspawn before they threaten all of Ferelden."

"I shall leave you to speak with my father and the arl, sir," said Yvaine, bowing slightly to Duncan rather than curtsying, which would have been difficult to accomplish in her armor.

"I have enjoyed our talk, my lady," said Duncan bowing to her fully, his right arm across his chest.

"If I am to call you Duncan then you are to refer to me as Yvaine," said Yvaine, smiling at the Warden.

"Yes, Yvaine," said Duncan smiling back at her. She was liking this Warden more and more, he like her father, saw beyond her title and the initial expectations that accompanied it, which could only mean there were more like them in the world.

"Now, pup, you must go and speak to your brother," said Bryce a little more sternly than before, "The arl, Duncan, and I have important business to discuss and we've had enough delays as it is."

"Of course, Father," said Yvaine and she turned away from Duncan, ready to leave the room when she suddenly remembered she needed to give her blessing to the arl, as a sign of respect and courtesy.

"Arl Howe, a moment if you please," said Yvaine, giving her best fake smile to the arl, ever since she was a small child she had always felt a reason to distrust him through he had rarely spoken to her until she was much older.

"Yes, my lady?" asked Arl Howe, slightly annoyed by her request.

"I just wanted to wish you well in the upcoming battle, sir," said Yvaine, giving him a curtsy.

"I. . .thank you, my lady," said the arl, stunned and seemed to be ashamed to have received her blessing, "That is. . .quite unnecessary."

"I should be going," said Yvaine bowing to her father, "It was an honor meeting you, Duncan, and a pleasure seeing you again, Arl Howe."

"A pleasure as always to see you, dear girl," said Howe his gnarled smile returning.

"I am glad to have met you as well, Yvaine," said Duncan, bowing again.

Yvaine turned and left the great hall, after this meeting she had mixed feelings, something in her was unsettled and the arl's presence had not helped her a great deal but having Duncan around seemed to be a good omen. The fact the arl's men were delayed was something to ponder, it was said he had the swiftest men in all of Ferelden but poor weather had delayed them? That seemed too much of a stretch for even the arl, whom was notorious for telling stories about how his men had braved a flood to aid King Maric during the Orlesian campaign. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she almost ran straight into Ser Gilmore, who's quick thinking prevented the accident.

"Vaine, please forgive me," stuttered the knight, as he helped her steady herself, "I thought you might have seen me or something—"

Yvaine laughed at her own clumsiness, "It's quite alright, Gil, I should have paid more attention to my surroundings. A great warrior I've turned into, can't even keep myself focused on walking while I'm thinking."

"We all have an off day," said the knight smiling, "Even a warrior such as yourself, Vaine, will have at least one bad day before their time on this earth is finished."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Yvaine smiling brilliantly at the young knight, her childhood friend and favorite sparring partner.

Ser Gilmore looked down at the young Teyrness, blushing slightly as he noticed how beautiful she appeared in this particular light, "Before I forget, the reason I was looking for you is your dog's causing some trouble in the kitchen larder. Nan's threatening to quit if it doesn't get resolved quickly and your mother seems to take her threat most seriously."

"Nan's been with my family since I was born," sighed Yvaine, smiling, "She was my nanny until I turned sixteen, she's not going to leave over Gawain raiding the larder."

"At any rate, I'd rather see the situation solved," said Ser Gilmore hastily, "While you are fortunate for having your own Mabari, he's sometimes a nuisance since he only responds to your command. I've also been asked to accompany you until the task is done."

"Gawain's harmless," said Yvaine brushing aside his concern, "He's more of a teddy bear than a vicious war hound, well, most of the time."

"Still, I don't want to take the chance of an innocent person getting bit," smirked the knight, "And your mother is threatening to have him sent off with your father if he continues to cause trouble."

Yvaine rolled her eyes, "She's always hated Gawain, let's go get the mutt out of trouble."

"Of course, Vaine," replied the knight nervously, "Before we go, might I beg a question?"

Yvaine blinked, it was not like Ser Gilmore to request her permission to ask a question even if it was personal, "Of course."

"Is it true that there's a Grey Warden in the great hall, and that he's been asking after me?" asked Ser Gilmore his hands visibly shaking, from excitement or nervousness, Yvaine could not tell.

"Yes on both counts," said Yvaine as they started walking towards the kitchen.

"Maker's breath!" exclaimed Ser Gilmore, "Can you imagine it? Me, as a Grey Warden?! It would be like living out one of my fantasies if I was selected."

"Your excitement is contagious, Gil," laughed Yvaine glancing over her shoulder back at him, "By the way, I'm glad you're here with me, it gives us a chance to talk like we used to."

"I know what you mean," said Ser Gilmore blushing, "It has been a while since we've been able to talk, as friends I mean, like we used to during our training days."

"Do you still do that move with your sword and shield?" asked Yvaine remembering back to when they were children sparring with each other in the courtyard.

"You mean my signature bash-stab move?" asked Ser Gilmore, grinning at her, "Why yes I still do use it, in fact, that move is why I've won so many tournaments."

"Not conceded at all, right, Gil?" teased Yvaine and they shared a laugh before getting cut off by a brash woman yelling obscenities behind the kitchen door.

"Something tells me Nan is less than happy," remarked Ser Gilmore as Yvaine hesitantly opened the door, neither looking forward to the wrath of Nan.

"Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" shouted Nan to the two elves standing before her, their heads hung in shame.

"But, mistress! It's not letting anyone near it!" protested the young girl elf, and Yvaine wanted to tell the girl it was pointless to argue with Nan when she was in one of these moods.

"If I can't get into that larder in the next five minutes, I'll skin both you useless elves, I swear!" shouted Nan and Ser Gilmore decided now was the time to intervene.

"Peace, good woman, we're here to help . . ." started Ser Gilmore before Nan cut him off.

"You!" exclaimed Nan when she turned around and saw Yvaine standing behind her with Ser Gilmore, "That bloody beast of yours has gotten into larder yet again! I swear, that mongrel should be put down."

"I'm sorry, Nan," said Yvaine, feeling like she was six years old again with her hand caught in the pastry filling, "I'll get him out of there for you."

"Good," said Nan shortly, "Get him out and make sure he doesn't get back in there! If he gets back in there, I swear I'll quit!"

"Nan," said Yvaine calmly, "You'd never quit over something like this, I was much worse than Gawain is and you still stayed."

Nan sighed, "That you're right about. Now please, I have a splitting headache, just get that mongrel out of there before he ruins the roast for dinner. I have a castle full of hungry soldiers and the last thing I need is some bloody mabari war dog eating all of the food in Highever."

Yvaine stifled a giggle as she and Ser Gilmore entered the larder, closing the door behind them, and Gawain jumped up on Yvaine and licked her face in greeting, his muzzle perfectly meeting her own nose.

"Down, boy, down," laughed Yvaine, pushing the great hound off of her, petting his head as he returned his paws to the floor, then he started sniffing around the floor, wagging his tail, looking at both Yvaine and Ser Gilmore imploringly.

"Look at this mess!" sighed Ser Gilmore, "Maker, how did he even get in here?"

"Probably snuck in when one of the servants left the door open," remarked Yvaine as she watched Gawain walk about the floor, barking at a corner, then turning back to them spinning around in place.

"It does seem like he's trying to tell us something," observed Ser Gilmore, before Yvaine could respond however, the larder became filled with the clattering of nails on the floor and she caught sight of what Gawain had been trying to tell them.

"Rats!" shouted Yvaine, unsheathing her sword, she stared down at the vermin, she could see their glowing red eyes and the quills sticking up from their backs, hidden in their fur. Some had their teeth bared in a snarl others were bouncing around trying to avoid Gawain whom was growling at the beasts menacingly.

"How do you want to approach this, Vaine?" asked Ser Gilmore, his sword raised, "The old bash and slice routine?"

"How is that different from the bash and stab routine?" asked Yvaine, a grin flickering on her face, as she mentally counted the rats, there were fourteen in total not too much of a challenge for seasoned warriors such as them.

"Slicing's more effective against something this big," joked Ser Gilmore and they started attacking. Yvaine raised her sword and brought it crashing down through the neck of the nearest rat, Gawain reared back on his hind legs and brought his front paws straight down on the back of another rat, his nails piercing through the rat's toughened skin. Ser Gilmore blocked a rat that had decided to jump with his shield, Yvaine chopping its head off as it flew passed her blade, blood splattering all over them as the carnage continued.

When all of the rats were dead, Yvaine reached for the rag she kept tucked in her belt and wiped her sword perfectly clean and then she put her sword back behind her head, re-sheathing it and she observed the mess, knowing Nan would probably be angrier about the rats' blood all over the floor than her dog in the larder.

"Those were Korcari Wild rats," said Ser Gilmore looking down at the large rat corpses that littered the floor, "These giant rats remind me of the start of every bad adventure story my grandfather used to tell me when I was a child."

"At least Gawain was in here for a reason rather than to just cause trouble," sighed Yvaine, wiping her face haphazardly with a cheese cloth she found on one of the barrels, then she handed the cloth to Ser Gilmore, "Come on, we should tell Nan what happened."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Ser Gilmore uneasily, as he wiped his face with the cloth on the clean side, "I mean, she almost quit over a dog in the larder, what do you think she'll do if she finds out there were Korcari rats in here as well?"

"Demand a hanging for whomever let the rats in," said Yvaine simply as she opened the door to the kitchen where Nan and the other servants were waiting. Nan looked menacing with her arms crossed and a deep frown decorating her mouth, just as Yvaine remembered her from when she was small.

"Well, here he is, and prouder than ever," sneered Nan as they reappeared.

"I better get going, since you have Gawain well in hand," said Ser Gilmore quickly, "I'm to prepare for the arrival of more of the arl's men. Good day, Teyrness Yvaine."

"And to you, Ser Gilmore," said Yvaine, smiling as the knight left the kitchen, then she turned back to Nan, whom was positively fuming.

"He's licking his chops, he is!" snapped Nan, "I bet that mongrel helped himself to that beautiful roast I had prepared!"

"Actually, Nan, he was hunting down Korcari Wild rats that invaded the larder," said Yvaine proudly, petting Gawain.

"I bet he showed them how to get in there," muttered Nan and Gawain whined to her, "Don't you start with me and those sad eyes! I'm immune to your so-called charms."

Gawain whined louder, wagging his tail at her.

Nan sighed and reached for a few cubes of cooked pork from the plate beside her, "Here, take these pork bits and don't say Nan never gave you nothing. Damn dog." Though she was trying to sound harsh Yvaine knew she cared and this was just her way of showing her concern. Gawain barked happily as he scarfed down the cooked meat.

"Thank you again, my lady," said Nan, looking at Yvaine with kind eyes, "Now we can get back to work at last. That's right, you two, quit standing about! We have a castle of soldiers to feed and not much time to do it."

"Miserable old bat," mumbled the male elf servant.

"Old bat, am I?" snapped Nan, "We've got to work double-time on supper! Sweep out the hearths and no complaining, from either of you!"

"Same old Nan," whispered Yvaine quietly as she left, not wanting to bother Nan further though she had enjoyed hearing that nothing had really changed since she had been moved from being a nanny to head of the kitchen.

Gawain kept up with her as she walked around, eager to see her brother and nephew, the pair arrived at the atrium where she saw her mother and a group of people standing in the sunlight.

"And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year," said Eleanor to Lady Landra, showing her a large ornate pendant, "The marquis who gave it to him was drunk, as I understand it, and mistook Bryce for the king!"

The group laughed that fake learned laugh everyone at court was taught from a young age, the one that Yvaine hated more than any other practice she had every learned.

"Ah, here is my lovely daughter now," said Eleanor, when she saw Yvaine approach, and Yvaine could tell by the look on her face she was disappointed in the attire she was arriving in with blood splattered all over the metal and leather, but she said nothing about it instead she spoke about the dog, "I take it by the presence of that lumbering troublesome hound that the mess in the kitchens was taken care of?"

"Yes, Mother," replied Yvaine trying to keep the exasperation out of her tone, "Nan is back to work, no one's quitting the staff today, except maybe the elves."

"Lets hope not, Nan can't function without someone to boss around," remarked Eleanor, giving her daughter a small smile, "At any rate, darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

"I think we last met at your mother's spring salon," said Lady Landra stiffly.

"Yes, I remember," said Yvaine, "it's good to see you again, my lady."

"And it is a pleasure to see you again as well, dear girl," said Lady Landra, "You remember my son, Dairren? He's not married yet, either."

Yvaine managed not to groan, it was bothersome enough having Arl Howe try to match her up with his youngest son whom was away, now Lady Landra was trying to set her and Dairren up and he was standing right there next to her!

"Mother, that's unnecessary," begged Dairren, "I'm sure Lady Yvaine has more on her mind at the moment than whom to marry. Yvaine, you are looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

Yvaine smiled, etiquette was required here, "Thank you, Dairren, you are too kind." The young lord was quite handsome and charming but he was practically useless when in a fight, she had seen so herself when Ser Gilmore had bested him during a tournament handing him a humiliating defeat.

"I heard you were going to be left in charge of Castle Cousland and Highever until your father and brother return," said Lady Landra, "A great honor indeed."

"My father has given me a great deal of responsibility," replied Yvaine sternly, "I only hope to live up to the expectations he has set as teyrn."

"And I'm sure you will," said Lady Landra, "and before I forget, this is my lady-in-waiting, Iona. Do say something, dear."

"It is a pleasure, my lady," said Iona, speaking as clearly and concisely as any noblewoman in Ferelden, despite being an elf, "You are as pretty as your mother describes."

"And she says this after watching you whacking away at stuffed men in the courtyard, sweating like a mule," commented Eleanor sternly, eyeing her daughter, "and covered in the blood of Maker knows what."

"Which is why I didn't wear the dress you picked out, Mother," retorted Yvaine, "So the sweat and blood wouldn't ruin the Orlesian silk."

"If you say so," sighed Eleanor, though Yvaine could see the amusement dancing in her violet eyes.

"Your prowess with a blade is quite impressive," said Dairren, his tone droll, "I have never seen a woman handle a sword quite the way you do."

"Again, thank you, Dairren," said Yvaine through slightly gritted teeth.

"Like my daughter, I was quite the battle maiden myself," said Eleanor slightly arrogant, "But I believe it was the softer arts such as embroidery and music that landed me my husband."

"Mother," whispered Yvaine slightly embarrassed, "you know I find that tedious."

"Yet you still managed to find time to finish your sampler while sharpening that blade of yours," remarked Eleanor smugly, "I, at least taught you something useful, besides how to use a dagger when in close combat."

"Which I appreciate, Mother," said Yvaine, smiling happily at her mother.

"I think I shall rest now, my dear," said Lady Landra, yawning to emphasize the point, "Dairren, I will see you and Iona at supper." The lady walked away, taking the dainty little steps that most of the female courtiers used when walking in public, Yvaine preferred walking like the Maker had intended with long strides and a fast pace so she could arrive at her destination before the sunset.

"Perhaps Iona and I will retire to the study for now," replied Dairren and he signaled for the young elf to follow him, both leaving for the study. When they were gone, Yvaine watched her mother relax, her shoulders no longer rigid, and her beautiful face losing all of its tension.

"You should say your good byes to Fergus before he rides of," said Eleanor, looking at Yvaine, her eyes now full of sadness.

"I will, Mother," said Yvaine, nodding, "although I wish I was riding off with him."

Eleanor sighed heavily, "I know this is difficult for you, Vaine, but you know our duties to Highever and the family comes first. Someday you will understand why certain sacrifices must be made."

"I understand it perfectly, Mother," said Yvaine quietly, glancing down at her feet, "I just think I could make a difference in this battle."

"Another time, another battle perhaps," said Eleanor softly, cupping her daughter's cheek and lifting her face so their eyes met, she could see tears in her mother's eyes, "I love you, darling girl. You know that, don't you?"

"I love you too, Mother," said Yvaine, wanting to embrace her mother but resisting in order to spare her mother the disgust of blood all over her dress.

"Run along and find your brother," said Eleanor, wiping her eyes before the tears even fell, "I'll see you at dinner."

Yvaine descended the stairs that lead to her family's bedrooms, Gawain following closely at her heels, barking happily periodically as they walked up the stone steps, "You're such a happy mutt."

They made their way to Fergus' room and when she opened the door she was greeted by two slender arms wrapping tightly around her waist, she looked down and saw her nephew Oren hugging her.

"Hello to you too, Oren," laughed Yvaine as she pulled her nephew up and held him against her hip.

"Auntie, it's good to see you," said Oren resting his head against her shoulder, "Mama and Papa are saying good bye and it makes me sad, make them stop, please."

"I'm sorry, Oren, that I cannot do for you," said Yvaine, looking at her older brother, a sad look drawn on his handsome features.

"I'll be back before you even have time to miss me, Oren," said Fergus happily, "and I'll bring you back a sword of your very own!"

"A sword!" exclaimed Oren a huge smile on his tiny face, "Bring me back a big one, Papa, the largest one you can find!"

"I will do my best," said Fergus and he looked at his little sister, "Well Y-paine, are you here to see me off?"

"Of course, Fur-guts," said Yvaine, placing Oren back down on the floor, chuckling at the nicknames they still used from childhood, "and I have been asked to deliver a message, Father wants you to ride ahead with the troops to Ostagar without him."

"Damn," snapped Fergus, "So the arl's men are delayed, you'd think they were walking backwards in quicksand. At any rate, I should be off, so many darkspawn to butcher, so little time!"

"I hope you aren't thinking of leaving without saying good-bye to your own parents, Fergus," said Eleanor as she and Bryce entered the bedroom.

"Of course not, Mother," said Fergus, embracing their mother, "I was just going to do it on my way out."

"Even though you are in a hurry, I still wish to give you my blessing," sighed Eleanor, "Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety everyday you are gone."

"Thank you, Mother," said Fergus softly, tears shimmering in his eyes, the same shade of violet as hers.

"Now, Fergus, it is time for you to ride off with the men," said Bryce clearing his throat, "And for you, Yvaine, I would think an early sleep is in order. After all, you have a great deal to do tomorrow and you're going to need your rest."

"Of course, Father," said Yvaine, quickly hugging her brother, putting the moment in her memory forever, "Good luck, Fergus, may your blade be swift and true."

"And may your shield never break," finished Fergus, "How I will miss you, dear sister."

"And I you, dear brother," said Yvaine, and she left the room with her parents before retiring to her room.

Yvaine laid in bed, her heart aching from the thought of her father and brother riding off into battle, and what was awaiting them there in Ostagar. Gawain had settled himself by the door, as he always did whenever she was in her room, it was her first line of defense she always reasoned. She glanced over at her armor, freshly polished after a couple of hours of sweat and oil, she desperately wanted to wear it into a proper battle instead of the small skirmishes she had fought over the last few years against bandits and rogues.

'Hopefully, becoming a Grey Warden will change all of that,' thought Yvaine as she drifted off into a troubled sleep, thinking about darkspawn and the Grey Wardens.