I was fifteen when Eamon called me "back", the year that the war was not only officially but at long last unofficially over. Since I was two years old when my brother and I had been sent away, my return to Redcliffe was not precisely a celebratory return to a beloved home.

Eamon himself had been back for around five years, participating in the good fight against the Orlesian invaders. He hadn't quite been successful at throwing them all out, however…

Eamon was overjoyed to see me, after five years without my company. Nearly the first thing he did, however, was tell me about Isolde – how beautiful she was, how in love they were. He explained how they had met in a tavern in Redcliffe, while he was organizing some of the more secretive rebels. He assured me that she was a noblewoman, though.

She was an Orlesian noblewoman, the daughter of the man claiming the title of Arl of Redcliffe at the time, to be specific. From what I knew of him, our father, the great general, was probably spinning in his grave like a children's toy. Their love match inspired a great deal of bad poetry and songs, and doubtless a few other Ferelden/Orlesian matches. It certainly made Eamon one of the less popular members of the Landsmeet. Teyrn Loghain in particular despised him I eventually learned when I took my place as Bann Rainsfere.

I get ahead of myself – now that I had warning, Eamon couldn't wait for the two of us to meet, certain that I would love her almost as much as he did.

When we met, I found her pretty enough to satisfy my fifteen year old libido. (In fact, I think that was the first year I tried to take a servant girl out to the stables, though she was smart enough not to give me what I wanted.) Her voice already had that irritating quality that some highborn women have where some of the words kind of – swoop? That odd tendency to go upward in tone for emphasis on words that probably have no business being emphasized.

She was three years older than I, and naturally regarded me as a child. She clearly doted on my brother, and he behaved with the subtle possessiveness of a man insecure with his first real love, though I didn't realize that at the time. Eamon is an intelligent, well-spoken and mostly compassionate man, but he has never been handsome. I believe it was around then that he began to gain grey hairs, though from Isolde's influence or my own, I cannot say.

Mostly, Isolde proceeded to ignore me, with the exception of a few digs to draw Eamon's attention away from his brother and back where it rightfully belonged, on her. She had grown up almost entirely in Ferelden, so we mainly didn't have to endure the standard Orlesian complaints. Life settled into a pattern of neutrality.