107 réponses à ce sujet

[Miri1984]

*sniff*

*bawl*

Almost makes me want Alistair not to show up

[Gilgamesh1138]

ROFL! Miri, you sweet thing (oh I am channeling Isabela). Working on First Cut Dairren sexy goodness as we speak. Which, *sigh* ends badly as we all know. Ah "sweet Dairren," they named the quest well.



Thanks for the review Miri! Keep the tissues handy, I hope to have that up tonight.

[Slim Warden]

That was very touching, and poor poor Dairren he love but lost by no true fault of his own. *salutes*

[Gilgamesh1138]

Thanks Slim! I must admit I had fun writing that chapter, even if it also made me sad.

[Maria13]

Dairren's stream of consciousness: Lovely.

[Gilgamesh1138]

Thanks Maria13! I was worried about this one. I haven't done stream of consciousness writing in a long time, let alone for a made up man of pixels.

[SRWill64]

I just got the memo of the existence of these short...well, writings I guess for a lack of better terms, for they are not all stories... Anyway, just wanted to tell you I really enjoyed reading them. Thanks...and I will definitely keep following Kai in her future adventures!

[Gilgamesh1138]

Thank you so much SRWill64! I am so glad you are enjoying them. I just posted the next chapter to The First Cut, which goes with these, if you are so inclined (you don't have to though, so no pressure, really). :wub:

Modifié par Gilgamesh1138, 02 juin 2010 - 04:01 .

[VioletTheirin]

Oh my Dairren!!! My heart is achy for him. Wonderful chapter friend, I love it!

[Gilgamesh1138]

Aw, thanks so much!

[Gilgamesh1138]

Chapter 8

~Of Aunties And Dragons And Dire Bunnies~

A piece of parchment with  a childish scrawl filled with backwards ‘s’s and ‘r’s.  Their are doodles of what looks

like swords, bunnies with big fangs, and fire breathing dragons.  There are also comments on the essay by Aldous.


                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                                                     Oren Cousland


                                                ~My Auntie~   (Actually my boy, she is your aunt, not your

“auntie.” or you could call her by her proper name, even by her nick name , if you must, but only if you must)


My auntie Kai is the best auntie in the world. ( Hm, now that you mention the world, remind me to pull out a map

for a geography lesson)  Old Aldous always says I should describe things, unless it is dire bunnies or dragons. 

Then he says not to, he gets tired of hearing about them.  (My dear boy, not everything can be about bunnies and

dragons.  And  there is no such creature as a “dire bunny, “ with big sharp pointy teeth.)  My auntie and I look

alike, I mean, she is a girl and I am a boy,  so we don’t look alike, alike.  I mean she has black hair and blue

eyes like me. (Oren,  your auntie, drat! Your aunt was born before you, so you look like her, not the other way

around.)

My auntie fights better than any boy.  She knows how to fight with daggers and without them too. (You mean unarmed

combat, my lad.  She knows how to fight in unarmed combat.)  My papa says she is the best fighter in Highever, even

better than him! I don’t know about that, my daddy is the greatest man ever, besides Grandpapa Bryce of course. 

(Oren, this essay is to be about your auntie {this is crossed out}, about your aunt Kai, we can certainly discuss

an essay about your father and grandfather.  Maybe even your great-grandfather, hm, a history lesson on the

Couslands! Excellent!)  But if papa says it’s true, then it is.  He never lies.  Neither does my auntie.  She tells

the truth and makes people mad sometimes.  Grandmama Eleanor says that Auntie needs to learn diplimacy.  (Lad, the

word is diplomacy, and yes, your auntie {again the word is crossed out with two lines this time} aunt Kai could

certainly practice it a little more often, especially where the other nobles are concerned.)

But I love my auntie best for how she holds me upside down and tickles me.  I love her best for when she helps me

give my vegatables to Argus so I can have dessert, even though vegatables are icky and I am supposed to eat them

anyways. (Oren my boy, it is vegetables, and they are not icky.  If you must describe them, say they taste horrid ,

wretched, or they are distasteful.  And I don’t mean you shouldn’t eat them!  Your Auntie { the word is crossed out

again} aunt really shouldn’t be abetting your disobedience. Honestly!  She is as incorrigible now as she was when

she was your age!  Look that word up, lad)  I love her when she does tricks while riding on the back of her Ceffyl.

 And when she takes me riding and we go real fast.  I love her best when she sneaks us into the orchard and she

helps me climb the trees so we can steal apples. Or when we sneak strawberries from the kitchen gardens, and skip

lessons, and go read under a tree eating them.  (Well that would explain your disappearance the same day Nan had a

fit that she did not have enough strawberries for the pies she was making.)  I love her best because she takes me

swimming and because she showed me how to whistle.  I love her best because she has snuck me out after bedtime to

teach me the stars in the sky, or so we can catch fireflies, or sneak sticky buns and milk from the larder. (It is

a wonder with you two miscreants, that Nan does not quit, really!  Oh and look that word up too, get your auntie

{this word is crossed out with a harsh line}, blast it! Get your Aunt Kai to help you look it up!)


I love her because she does all of those things, but I love her best, because she loves me best, just the way I am.

 She tells me never to be anybody else, but me.  She says that I am special, and never beliebe anyone else if they

tell me differant. That is why my auntie is one of the best people in the whole world! (I would have to agree, your

aunt is certainly her own person.  And she is right lad, never be anyone but who you are.  Your aunt is a

remarkable young woman, and one of the best students I ever had the privilege to teach, despite her insouciance. 

Have your auntie, {this word is almost obliterated from the page} blast it again!  Have your Aunt Kai help you look

that up too. And it is believe and different, my lad!  I need a nap.)

Modifié par Gilgamesh1138, 02 juin 2010 - 05:32 .

[VioletTheirin]

Yay!!! Oren!!! Wonderful as usual. Watch out Dire Bunnies!!!

[Gilgamesh1138]

The sword of Truthiness

[Miri1984]

Truly, the death of Oren was one of the most heartbreaking things in the entire Cousland origin. He had SUCH potential .



I wonder if Morrigan and Fergus' children will be anything like that! Oh, I can just see Morrigan saying "The word is TRUTH, boy, must you be so contrary!"

[Gilgamesh1138]

ROFL! you give me great ideas Miri!

[Gilgamesh1138]

Chapter 9

~Like a FIne Wine~

I stand here watching my sister-in-law tease her brother, my beloved husband, their banter flying back and forth. 

I have to admit, when I was younger I was jealous of their close friendship.  I admit to trying to steal him away

from her.  Though that was a ridiculous thing for me to do, and it would have failed miserably at any rate.  But ah

young love, and jealousy, it makes one a little mad. 

I remember the deep and painful crush I had on Fergus then. And though I spent most of my childhood traveling

around Ferelden with my father the wine merchant, so much so I could barely speak Antivan, I was still considered a

foreigner by the nobles’ children.  So when Fergus returned my interest,  I was happy beyond belief, but less than

thrilled that his baby sister was always around. 

Kaidana Cousland, with her hair always in a state of disorder. Her clothes, her face, her hands were always filthy.

  Dressing like a boy ( even wearing leggings when she was made to wear dresses), with  a mouth like a castle

soldier, and a penchant for mischief. 

I thought she was a bad influence on Fergus back then.  He was going to be the Teyrn of Highever one day.  He did

not need to be following some miscreant around the Palace gardens stealing from our king. 

I remember the night at the palace where our families all gathered for the Landsmeet.  My father was there doing

business, having the Royal Warrant, as the official Vinter of the royal line.  What better place to sell more fine

spirits to the nobles, than when they were all gathered under one roof?  Fergus and I had a huge argument about his

scamp of a sister no less.  She had been caught rubbing one of the other noble girl’s face and hair in a mud puddle

at the very public market square earlier that day.  It was an embarrassment to me back then.  I stuck my nose up in

the air when he defended her, and stormed out of the great hall where everyone was gathered. 

I  turned the corner, intending to go to my rooms in the palace, only to be grabbed and shoved up against the

castle wall.  It was Ballagaire, Bann Parnell’s son, his big clumsy hands pressing my back into the stone.

I demanded he let me go and he laughed and tried to kiss me.  I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he

slobbered all over me like some mabari.  I was repulsed.  I tried to shove him away and he ripped the shoulder off

my dress, told me all Antivan women were ****s, and he was just doing what we all did anyway.  Then he proceeded

to bite my neck and shoulder, and as I was about to yell for help I heard a quiet voice behind me. 

“Andraste’s ass Ballgaire, get yourself to The Pearl!  At least the women there would get paid to put up with your

sorry arse.  That is if Sanga, Old Matrell’s replacement, would even let you in the door.  Perhaps it’s best you go

to your room and practice a little self love, or does your hand turn you down too?” 

And there she stood, her black hair lit by moonlight from behind.  She was tapping her booted foot on the stones,

with her arms crossed.  She had a grin on her face, but her blue eyes had a hard glint that showed in the light of

the torch hanging in the wrought iron bracket set in the wall.   

I shivered at the look she was giving the brute, who was either too stupid or too blind to see.  I watched her

walking closer, stalking him like a cat does a bird.  “Har, har!  Go away brat.  The Antivan chit and I were having

some fun, and you’re too young to join in.”  And he started sucking on my neck again, while his hand grabbed my

breast.  And I tried pushing him off but he pinned my hands. 

What happened next occurred so quickly I didn’t even see her move.  One minute I am being groped and slobbered on,

the next... I’m watching my then future sister-in-law with a hand on Ballgaire’s throat as he lay on the ground,

while placing a sharp and wicked looking dagger between is legs. 

“I would rather douse myself with lye, or set myself on fire.  But I’m sure you get that a lot.”  I watched her

grin wider at him.

“You little ****, I am going to...”  Whatever he had been going to say was cut off in a grunt as those long tapered

fingers squeezed harder.

“Ah Ballagaire, I am so, so tempted to cut it off, and I am mean all of it off.  Along with that  little head

between your legs you use to do your thinking with.  Make me too angry Ballgaire, and I will make you squat like a

girl to pee.”  Her hand squeezed harder and I watched his face turning purple before she released her fingers,

stood up, and stepped back. 

I watched Ballgaire roll on his belly and crawl on all fours away from Kai as fast as he could given that he was

coughing.  She walked over to me while keeping an eye on Ballgaire, “Are you all right?”  

I remember just nodding, staring at her in amazement.  It could have been so much worse, so much worse than a torn

dress.  She smiled and nodded.  Ballgaire had apparently collected himself enough to stand and to get his bluster

back, “You little trumped up... turnip!  Wait until you are alone and I have...” 

“Wait until what Bull Calf?  Until you have the Three Weasels with you?  Oh please do fetch them.  Explain why you

didn’t invite them to your fun, and how you got your arse handed to you on a platter by me.”  She gave him a

devilish little grin that was all ice and snow, “I would love to know what Lun, Gwitart, and Tremaine think of

their fearless leader then.”   I watched as Ballgaire’s face got redder, “I am sure King Maric would love to hear

what you were doing as well, or maybe my brother?”  Ballgaire’s face got pale at this. 

“You...”  He stammered.

“You what?  Strumpet, chit, brat?  Believe me any insult you hurl is a compliment considering the source.  Don’t

worry, I won’t have to tell anyone Bull Calf, please bring the weasels and we can have a second dance.” She all but

purred this out at him, and I had to keep from laughing, “I look forward to it, though I assure you, you won’t.”  

Then she twirled the dagger in her fingers letting the blade flash in the torchlight.  Ballgaire’s adam’s apple

bobbed up and down.  “Now run along, Rosie Palms and her five fat sisters still might give you a go back in your

room, stranger things have happened.”   Bellagaire flushed a brilliant shade of crimson and turned on his heel and

left.

I had to put my hand to my mouth, part of me wanted to laugh hysterically, part due to adrenaline I was sure, the

other part because of her.  In that moment, I understood why Fergus loved her so.  I  found her grabbing my arm and

leading me quickly to the bedrooms while talking to me, “Lets get you out of that dress and into something not

sullied by that bastard.  And I would recommend not telling my hot blooded brother.  He is a still lake of water

that runs deep.  He might find himself in a duel.  And I would rather not have him banished from Ferelden for

killing someone who the better half of him ran down his father’s leg.” 

It was this statement that had me laughing so hard I could hardly walk and hold up my dress., “Kaidana Cousland! 

Really!  I will hardly be able to stand if you keep that up!”  I recall passing by guards as we walked the hallways

to the guestrooms.  They would stare at us and then Kai would put her hand as if she was holding a cup and knock it

back then winking and nodding at me.  “They are going to think I am inebriated!” 

“Better that then they look too closely at the welts on your neck and your torn gown and ask questions.” Kai

grinned at me, “Unless that’s what you want?”

I giggled again while shaking my head.  We made it to the gracious suite of rooms given to us by the King. She

popped her head inside, bid me wait, and came back a moment later to pull me in the room, “Lucky you, no one’s here

not even your lady-in-waiting.  I suggest you peel off that dress, and burn it.  Or at the very least, give it away

to a servant.”

I nodded and led her to my room.  She helped me dig through the chests, but I found I was too tired to want to go

back and pretend nothing had happened.  So she helped me unlace the dress and as I was getting into my nightgown

and my robe she bundled up the gown and disappeared.  I was on the bed about to drift off when she returned with a

grin.  I never did find out what she did with the garment, but whatever it was, I was happy never to see it again.

I found myself astounded looking at the girl who had climbed up on the bed beside me.  Her dress had hiked up

revealing scuffed heavy leather boots and doeskin leggings.  “Kaidana, I ...”

She waved a dismissive hand, “I know you like my brother a great deal, and he likes you great deal.  I don’t know

if you have noticed his dopey face whenever your around.” 

I giggled, “Well I do, like him.  He is different than the other noble boys.  He doesn’t look down on me for being

born in Antiva, or for not being from one of the noble families.   He loves books, and poetry...” I found myself

flushing and looking down.

“I know, I was following you because I heard your fight, about me.  I wasn’t about to let my brother lose the only

girl he liked because of his stupid baby sister.” Kai  grinned a rueful grin, “I figure my brother has sacrificed a

lot because of me.  All of my parent’s affections, a mabari...”  She picked at the bedclothes, “I was coming after

you to apologize for dunking Brina’s head into that mud puddle, even if she did deserve it for slapping her elven

servant and calling her a ‘knife ear.’  And that I promised to try and behave myself, at least in public, and not

embarrass you by getting into any fights; if you would just give my dopey brother a chance.” 

This time I burst out laughing so hard my eyes filled with tears and my ribs hurt, and she joined me.  Finally it

died down to snorts and occasional twitters, "In Antiva a woman fighting in battle would be... unthinkable."  And I

grinned and started to laugh again.

“Well, my pet,”  She said with a grin, “You aren’t in Antiva anymore!”  And we both started all over again.  It

became our running joke, she and I.  She gave me that little dagger with the sheath to put in my bodice. And she

showed me a few fighting  moves.  We never did tell Fergus, it was our secret.  A moment of bonding.   I have never

challenged her and Fergus’s relationship ever again.

Since I am the daughter of a purveyor of fine wines and spirits, my father Ricardo is fond of comparing people to

wines.  I find myself likening my sister-in-law (like the sister I never had really) to a fine Antivan wine.  A

Syrah I think.  A wine that would hold aromas and flavours of wild black fruits (like the brambly and prickly

blackberry), with overtones of black pepper spice and a hints of leather.  She had the characteristic of that

vitage: bold, complex, bright, deep, supple and up front. 

She became my friend, closer than any of those other nobles’ daughters.  A true friend to me, who understood my

often dry sense of humor.  She is my best friend, and my husband’s.  And she is so very good to our son.  I hope I

have a daughter next, just like her aunt.  I am standing here looking at my sister-in-law, the light from the

window brightening  up her and Oren’s coal black heads as they are bent together, plotting to steal  Nan’s

strawberries again, no doubt.  Or sneak out after his bedtime to catch fireflies, or count the stars.  And I find

myself praying to the Maker, I hope I have a daughter next, just like her aunt.

[Miri1984]

Lovely again. No other words, save just.. lovely!

[Gilgamesh1138]

LOL you are way to good to me! : D

[Gilgamesh1138]

Chapter 10

~Rememberances~


“Oh look Bryce!”  Eleanor Cousland held up a slightly stained, faded, and well worn baby’s blanket.  The color is a

moss green and it is worn through in some places.  “Remember how Nan searched amongst the market stalls for the

‘perfect yarn’, as she called it?”  Eleanor looked at her husband as he sat beside her on the bed and reached out

to finger the soft weave of thread.

Bryce Cousland remembered it well.  But what he remembered even more was his beloved daughter using the blanket to

dress up Argus, or to swing from her bedpost; or using it as a tent with twigs for the poles, when she had snuck

out one night (and probably many more times they didn’t know about) to watch fireflies in the garden.
He watched as Eleanor pulled out a pair of small little does skin leather slippers, made in Orlais.  They were a

gift from Oriana’s father, he had acquired them on one of his travels for spirits to bring back for the royal

court. 

Eleanor held them up, fingering the little bow, and the beads and the little  charms of puppies that were attached.

 Bryce found them garish and horrid, but he would never tell his Elle that, “Oh Bryce remember when her feet were

this small.  She was two, remember how she toddled along in them. And here is the little dress that went with it!” 

He watched as his wife delved once more into the chest of keepsakes coming back up and holding out a little

monstrosity that was an exact miniature of the fancy dresses worn at court by Orlesian noblewomen at the time.  It

was all bows, and layers of lace and toile and velvet.

Bryce remembered well, how Kai had been dressed up in those awful shoes and that awful dress and how she had

screamed when they had done so.  He also remembered  how they had shown her off at some salon with all the nobles

there and how not five minutes after they had put her down they began to hear gasps run throughout the crowd, as

they all turned to look at something.  That ‘something’ had turned out to be his fierce girl,  sitting on the

buffet table, naked but for swaddling clothes.  Cake and icing were liberally smeared all over her face, her hair,

and her front and up her nose; as she had helped herself to a big handful (from the back of the cake, she said). 

The dress and the shoes had been thrown into the punch bowl,  “Pity she won’t wear  things like this now.”  Bryce

found he had to stifle a laugh.

Eleanor must have taken his smile for agreement as she reached into the chest’s interior once again. She came up

with two daggers and a small leather collar.  The one dagger was full sized and had gems in it, and was fit for a

king, and had belonged to one, King Maric.  The other dagger was a well made and finely crafted dagger out of wood,

made to fit his daughter’s four year old hand.  The collar had been Argus’s, her mabari’s, as a puppy. 

“Bryce remember when we held that tourney here for Maric to celebrate his birthday?  To try and cheer him up after

Rowan’s death?  Remember how much he fell in love with Kaidana?”   Bryce nodded, though he was thinking how the

king had come to love his daughter. The man almost had no choice when his bold little princess had jumped up in the

king’s lap and demanded stories.  He remembered how she had told Maric, in that little girl lisp, that he was

handsome.  How she had played with the king’s long blond hair or the buttons on his surcoat, until she had seen the

dagger at his hip. 

Bryce remembered how she had demanded the king show the blade to her, and how Maric had smiled (thank the Maker)

and not been insulted in the least by her brazen demand.  He had not only let her hold it but the king had taken

her to the weapons smith of Highever town and had the man make her a wooden practice dagger out of oak to fit her

little hand.  And Maric had taken her to the practice yard every morning before the rest of the castle had woken

and taught her how to use it.  And when the king left, the fancy dagger had been left behind with a note explaining

that it was for his little friend, Kaidana.

The puppy collar was of course from the mabari that was supposed to imprint on Fergus.  But the pup had gone for

Kai instead.  Bryce never knew what happened with that incident.  His son had stormed out, always a little jealous

of his sister, the usurper for his parent’s full attention, and Bryce had been sure that this would make the rift

wider.  But it had only cemented the relationship  between his son and daughter after that.  They had been as thick

as thieves ever since (and sometimes real thieves of apples, and strawberries he knew). 

Eleanor set the daggers and collar in Bryce’s lap before reaching into the treasury of memories at her feet.  “Oh

Bryce look at this, her first portrait!  She was six, you hired that painter, Elric, wasn’t it?”  She held up the

portrait with outstretched arms giving it a critical eye.  Even from his position Bryce could see it was a little

blurry as if the painter had painted, then re-painted many times, never quite fixing the subject where he wanted

it. 

“I must say, he was supposed to be the best, but he really didn’t seem to capture her very well.”  And again Bryce

had to stifle a laugh as Eleanor handed him the painting so she could rummage once more.  He remembered how the

poor artist had come to his study in a state.  The hapless man had been beside himself.  He had been running his

hands through his hair so hard Bryce had been sure he was going to pull it all out.  The painter apologized, but

informed the Teyrn that he could no longer continue to paint his daughter. She simply would not sit still!  And it

wasn’t just that!  She kept making faces. The man explained that to paint his daughter would require that she be

tied and gagged, or asleep, which would hardly do for any portrait to hang on the castle wall.  Elric handed  Bryce

the portrait and grabbed his bags which had been packed, the man was  ready to leave right then, without payment. 

Bryce allowed himself a smile, He paid the man more than his original commission, and told him to consider it

‘battle pay.’ 

This time Bryce watched his wife put a black braid of hair, tied at each end with ribbon, too her nose, “Oh it

still had that little girl smell, like sunshine and grassy meadows!’ She handed it to him as well as the sheaf of

two papers she held in her hand, “And her first essay complete with illustration for Aldous.”  Eleanor laughed and

bent to her task again.

Bryce snuck a sniff of the thick braid, and it did indeed still smell of grass and sunshine. Probably because Kai

had snuck off from lessons with Aldous to the orchard to steal apples, and she had used the dagger Maric had given

her to hack off the very braid he held in his hands.  The hair had caused Eleanor no amount of distress as they

were to go to Denerim for a Landsmeet in a few days time, and Kai’s hair had just grown out from the the paste she

had gotten all stuck in it, only to have it all cut off short as her brother’s, a few months before. 

The essay had been done that night in her room as penance for skipping lessons and cutting her hair.  It was

supposed to be an essay about proper rules of behavior.  And since no one had told his fierce girl which rules for

which type of behavior; she had taken it upon herself to write on the proper rules and behaviors for a knight in

honorable combat. Bryce flipped the first page of the parchment filled with the childish scrawl of the essay itself

(complete with Aldous’s notes), and looked at the illustration.  It had a series of two pictures side by side

showing the right and wrong way for a knight to do battle against a foe; replete with blood, dismembered limbs,

severed heads, and even on fellow with an eyeball dangling at an unfortunate angle. 

Bryce looked up from the pictures (which were really quite good for a six year old) when he heard a rattling noise

and he turned to find his wife holding a ceramic bottle with a cork stopper, “Her baby teeth!”  Eleanor clasped

them to her chest and then handed the bottle to him.  He opened it up see a thin leather cord looped near the top. 

He pulled it and the necklace with one small little slightly yellowed  tooth attached to it.  He had to grin.  Kai

had lost her first baby tooth in her first (of many) fights with one of other nobles’ children.  The incisor had a

hole drilled through it (Bryce suspected Fergus of aiding Kai in this) and it had been strung on leather and Kai

had worn it around her neck as a badge of honor.  At least she had worn it when her mother couldn’t see it. 

Bryce carefully stuffed the tooth and the leather cord back into the bottle, putting the cork stopper back in it

and setting it beside him on the bed.  He looked to see Eleanor holding a yellowed, malformed  lump of something,

“I remember her and Nan creating this soap together.  The day she brought her first cake of it, after it was done

aging, as a present for me.  I hadn’t the heart to use this her first.  It was also the first night I didn’t have

to struggle to get her to take a bath.”  Eleanor grinned and sniffed the soap before handing it over. 

Bryce remembered how she had crawled into his lap in his study, covered in soap making ingredients.  She had told

him how she wanted to make a soap that smelled like Argus, and when Nan had put the kibosh on that, how she wanted

to smell like an apple pie.  She had told him how she and Nan had compromised, how proud she was that she had, and

that she couldn’t wait to take Mamae the first cake of it.  He remembered she fell asleep in his lap while he

worked on paperwork. 

He barely had time to set it down before Eleanor was opening a wooden box in which rested two small and exquisitely

made daggers.  Bryce watched Eleanor run her fingers over their well worn handles, “Remember that Landsmeet when

she was ten?  Maric presented these to her in private.  He had ‘missed his little friend’, he said.” 

Bryce remembered how Maric,  like at Highever, had taken Kai and Fergus to the practice yard every morning.  He

also remembered her fight with one of the Banns’s daughters and how he had been grateful that Maric had not given

her the set until the next day.  He also remembered leaving strict instructions with Nan not to let her carry them

out of the room save with Maric the whole time they were there.  He was glad he did.  He had no idea what would

have happened at that fight with Ballgaire, Lun, Tremaine, and Gwitart if she had worn those daggers that day. 

Eleanor started to close the lid on the box but stopped and reached inside to find something tucked away amongst

the daggers.  She pulled it out to find a medallion on a black silk ribbon.  She held it up for Bryce to see.  The

medallion bore the face of King Maric, and they had been given to the noble’s families at the ceremonial funeral

for King Maric.  Since the man had been lost at sea, they had had no body to commit to the flames.  The funeral had

coincided with a Landsmeet where they had tried to make Bryce take the throne.  He had refused of course.  Cailan

was the rightful  heir, and while young and inexperienced, Bryce felt it his duty to support the man. 

Bryce reached out a finger to touch the medallion, “I remember she clutched this to her while wearing the only

dress I never heard her complain about wearing.  That was such a hard year for her.  First Maric, then Dairren went

to Antiva to study.” 

Eleanor turned to her husband, “I remember how she held Dairren’s hand, and how he stayed by her side and never

left it.”  Bryce noticed her smug look, “I remember how heart broken both were when his ship sailed.”  She smiled

like a cat that at the cream in the larder, “I remember how Kai moped around for months, almost a full year after

he left.”

Bryce felt warning bells going off.  He knew Eleanor wanted Kai to be happy, but he knew his wife was despairing

that Kai would ever find a noble she would like, much less love.  And one grandchild had only fueled his Elle’s

desire for more to fill the castle with, “Elle, are you trying to play matchmaker again?”  Bryce waved a hand over

all the items of Kai’s childhood strewn across the bed, “Is this why you are taking a trip down memory lane?  Elle,

remember your other attempts?  Remember what disasters they have been? I don’t thin-”

Bryce found Eleanor’s fingers on his lips before she kissed him,  “You didn’t see how she looked at Dairren when

she came around the corner from the kitchen today.”  Bryce found himself being kissed again, “And you didn’t see,

my beloved, how he looked at her.”  Her lips stayed on his longer this time, and his own heart beat faster. 

Eleanor, even after all their years together, still aroused his passions and his love. 

“Do you know what I saw when they looked at each other, my love?”  Bryce found his voice would not work, when she

kissed him like that, so he just shook his head, “I see the same look you still give me after all these years, and

after all the grey hair and wrinkles.  I do not have to play matchmaker, dearest love, because she and Dairren have

been in love since they met.”   She stroked his cheek sending pleasant shivers down his spine as her touch always

did, she smiled a knowing smile with a girlish laugh, “Shall we go see Fergus off?”

They gathered each momento and placed them back into the chest.  Eleanor closed it and put it back under the bed

next to the one for Fergus, and Oren.  Bryce smiled to himself.  He was a lucky, lucky man.  He grabbed Eleanor and

 planted a lingering kiss on her, enough to leave her breathless and such that it had her exclaiming, “Bryce!”  He

only grinned more, kissed her hand, and with her fingers entwined in his own they walked down the hall to Fergus’s

room.

Modifié par Gilgamesh1138, 14 juin 2010 - 04:31 .

[VioletTheirin]

Soooo sweet!! Have I mentioned how much I love your work?? Still loving Kai's "trophy tooth". All in all AWESOMENESS!!

[Gilgamesh1138]

ROFL! Thanks V! I thougt the tooth was something she would do. Glad you love it! Thanks for the support!

[Gilgamesh1138]

Chapter 11

~Patience is a Virtue~

A leather bound book with many hand written pages.  One could mistake it for a journal, or the ravings of a mad man, whose downfall into his own abyss is marked by each grotesque entry.  However,  it is clear the author sees it as a biography if the fly leaf containing several titles that have been crossed out, is any indication. The one closest to the bottom of the page reads : “Patience is a Virtue”.

The book is opened to the most recent sprawl of cramped writing as the early morning light catches it, and the air is heavy with the scent of blood, death, burning wood and stone.  Highever has fallen and Bryce and Eleanor Cousland’s bodies are now resting on the trash midden along with their daughter-in-law, grandson and their children’s old nanny, who is also the castle cook; Dairren Loren, Lady Landra his mother, and assorted Highever soldiers and staff that were unable to escape last night.   The man who wrote this lies sleeping soundly a few feet away as if the smell of decomposing bodies is the sweetest of perfumes.


I sat in my rooms listening to the screams and it was music to my ears.  I came to the quarters Bryce had so generously given me, he always was a generous and friendly, the bastard.  I left him with my armed men in the Great Hall of Highever castle.  I left as one of my men was sticking a sword in his gullet.  It only took, what, over thirty years to get what was coming to me.  What rightfully belonged to me, and eventually to my misbegotten heirs, birthed from that inferior womb I had the misfortune to marry.  Eleanor should have been the one to bear me children!  But Bryce Cousland had her instead!  Every ****e eating Cousland, it is in their blood, they always take what should belong to the Howes!

It started with their thirty years war for independence, and it cost my ancestors Highever and most of the land that had been a part of Amaranthine.  Independence!  FAH!  If it is one thing the Cousland’s have in spades, it is independence!

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, they added insult to injury when they sided with Maric during the Orlesian occupation.  While my, bloody father sided with the Emperor and Meghren.  And while my father was not a stupid man, he was not a particularly clever one.  He should have played his cards as though he was a double spy, and then watched to see which way the wind was going to blow and pledged loyalty to the winner. 

But no, he had to be stubborn. When he found out that our Ferelden would-be king Maric and the rebellion were based in  Amaranthine, he tried to fight them with our men.  There were several battles, and all my father did was ****** away resources, and then lose spectacularly at Harper’s Ford.  And Malcolm Cousland had him summarily hanged there. 

Luckily for the Howe name I am far more clever than that which spawned me, and I know revenge is a dish best served, if not cold, at least well aged.  I knew as I watched my father dance at the end of a rope that I would take everything from the Couslands, and they wouldn’t see it coming.  I went for a long term, but flexible plan.  Life is so much simpler when you do, I find.

I pledged to join the rebellion and claimed my father a traitor before his body had even cooled.  I fought along side that fool Bryce Cousland and his stupid younger brother, Iain, at the battle of White River.  I knew we were going to lose that battle.  I deliberately kept back the majority of my army then, claiming that most had died in the battle of Harper’s Ford.  Sometimes the old strategies are the best ones.  “Oh I’m so sorry I haven’t anymore men, or I’m so sorry the majority of my men are delayed...”  Ah, I have to laugh, I even amaze myself sometimes, something that I find, as time goes by, increasingly hard to do.

More than thirty years, and now my plan has come to its proper aging, like that fine Antivan Wine I found in that Cousland brat, Kaidana’s room (wine that I am sipping now as I write the events of the evening).  I admit I was disappointed when I did not have to step over that slattern’s cooling corpse to get this fine vintage, only her lover’s, Bann Loren’s son.  Small loss that.  Like me, poor Loren, married to an inferior and useless spouse who didn’t even have the decency to at least produce worthy progeny from between their thighs.  I am sure Loren will not be disappointed that he has been relieved of two of his greatest burdens and embarrassments.  The man might even believe I deserve a reward for it!

I consider it a bonus to have aided Loren. After all my goal, when I showed up with a small force to the castle proper,  while leaving my army camped outside waiting for the appropriate hour, was simply to take back what was mine.

Mine! Eleanor should have been mine too, but for that Orlesian turncoat, traitor to her own people, Marianne! She brought Eleanor and Bryce together again.  She stopped a part of my revenge to take from the Couslands oh so long ago.  I should have killed that foreign **** when I had the chance. Instead her own brother had that distinct privilege.  Unfortunately for the poor bastard, he didn't live to celebrate his own success, as brother and sister had slain each other.  Had he survived, we might have been allies.  As it was, despite the delay in action, it is probably just as well.  Had Le Loup Garou succeeded, Loghain might never have trusted me with the ... current situation.

Ah, but it does not pay to dwell on the past and the what-should-have-beens when the present is paying the dividends so richly deserved today.  For today I saw my chance and took it.  I took Highever castle and it only cost me a few hundred worthless men.  Not thousands as it cost my ancestors.  I must say I am the cleverest of my bloodline to be sure. 


I pretended to be friends with that fool Bryce Cousland.  I watched Eleanor have the children that should have been mine.  Her own daughter, so much more a beauty than my own Delilah.  Black hair like her **** of a mother.  She turned from a tomboy with scraped knees and a dirty face into a woman with all the curves in all the right places. And that spit fire personality, what is that quaint nickname Bryce used?  Oh yes, his ‘fierce girl’.  It only adds spice to the sauce. I have often imagined how much enjoyment I would have taken from breaking her, the thought has made it difficult to be around her, such are my fantasies.

Until she turns those eyes on me.  Those blue, blue eyes. They are sharp and piercing.  Her Grandsire Malcolm’s eyes.  Those same blue eyes that watched as my father Tarleton dangled at the end of a noose for the short drop and sudden stop he ordered for him.  And damned if I don’t feel laid bare before those eyes as I did with her Grandfather.  And I am left wanting, in those eyes.  But for their color, the would be the eyes of a hawk or falcon. I saw eyes like hers in the Merlin that was at the mews of Highever. 

I hate those eyes.  And they were turned upon me in the Great Hall as I stood  talking to her father the fool, giving my excuse for the delay of my army.  I turned to see her standing there.  I wondered right then if the game wouldn’t be up, if she really couldn’t read my thoughts, or that I would give something away squirming mentally under that gaze.  What is it about her that makes me lose my calm?  Equal parts lust, and hate,  that I know.  But there is something else.

It was that ‘something else’ that had me give the order to my men she was to die, they were not to try and capture her alive, no matter how much my desire to tame her begged me to have them attempt it.  I am not a man driven to passion as others are, I keep my emotions in check, and under a tight leash.  Others have called me cold, but I find keeping one’s emotions in control help run that simple but flexible plan I mentioned before. 

But her, Kaidnana Cousland, with that ridiculous shortening of her name, Kai.  She is the one that makes me want to  lose control and forgo my calculating plans.  Hatred, lust, and fear how can one woman I watched grow up with dirt on her nose, draw such feelings from me?  I know she is dangerous. And so I ordered her destroyed along with her family. 

The screaming, alas, died down after a while. Pity, it had such a delightful melody.  A little background music to go with my reading and my cognac.  

The quiet told me that I would be getting a knock on my door, and I was not disappointed.  Captain Lowan had come in to give his report and to escort me around the castle.  He had told me they had captured some of the castle inhabitants alive.  One foolish knight, protecting the gates, who had fought so hard he had to be taken down by five men.  They managed not to kill him.  And that Chantry ****, a Mother Molly, or Molloy, or something equally unimportant.  I shall have fun playing with them.

And then Captain Lowan brought forward one of his men, the man was covered in red boils.  He was so nervous to face me the man pissed himself, and I knew the news was going to displease me. 

Bryce’s little spitfire got away with that Grey Warden, Duncan.  Oh but it didn’t stop there.  Not only had she gotten away, but she slaughtered countless numbers of my men in the process.  Most were of no name, and certainly none of any consequence save one: Knight Dallon. That little **** killed my best knight! 

I began to have a moment of self doubt.  Where had I gone wrong?  I hate those feelings, and that girl brought them out in me.  Again, that lust coupled with admiration that she could fight through a castle of my soldiers, and a mage no less, and survive and escape.  It made me hate her more, and want her more, and fear her more. 

To cover for these whirling emotions I made myself feel better by slitting the throat of the soldier who failed me.  And then I had Captain Lowan take me on a tour to look at all the bodies.  I ordered them dumped in the trash of course. That is what they are after all.  The Cousland trash. 

As to Bryce’s little princess, well she is on her way to Ostagar.  I have sent a messenger to Loghain, warning him about her.  And the messenger will also alert my other ally there, a noble who has been willing to aid me. After all, people die in battles.  I am sure that a well placed dagger or sword with all the noise and confusion of the battlefield and it will never be questioned when she turns up dead.

So I have nothing to worry about. Life is easier with a simple and flexible plan. She will die at Ostagar, and I shall continue to get what I deserve.  What I have always deserved.  I am now Teyrn of Highever.  And who knows where my plan may lead me?  Well, only time will tell, after all patience is a virtue.

And please go and read on FF.net Ladyamesindy's story about Bryce and Eleanor (how they met and fell in love during the Rebellion) it is a wonderful story and Ladyames graciously allowed me to use her part of her story here.  It will explain who Marianne is and her brother Loup Garou.  I promise you will not be disappoionted!  
For your easy viewing pleasure We Do What We Must

Modifié par Gilgamesh1138, 16 juin 2010 - 04:14 .

[westiex9]

Very well written Gil you channeled Howe's personality so well, and who'd have thought he would be so jealous of Eleanor?, but now i need to go and butcher Arl Howe like the weasel he is! (thank the maker for saves)

[Gilgamesh1138]

Thanks westie! You are fantastic!

[LadyAly]

Great - still great and amazing Gil !