Chapter One: Duty

Previously: Politics

 

Elissa walked into her father's study to find him and Fergus standing with an old friend of the family, Arl Rendon Howe, and a tall, imposing warrior in full armor. Elissa's eyes widened and her breath caught in her chest as she realized she was standing just a few feet away from a real-life Grey Warden. Not a story, not a statue.

 

In the candlelight of her father's study, his armor gleamed. He was the tallest man in the room, and was like a being from another world. 

 

"Father," she interrupted haltingly, when no one noticed her entrance.

 

Bryce's eyes widened when he saw. He hastily glanced between her and the Warden. But before he could speak, Howe gestured for her to come closer. The Arl of Amaranthine was an older man, older than Bryce. His hair had long gone fully gray, but his eyes were still as icy blue as the sea in winter.

 

"Warden, this young beauty is Elissa, Bryce's daughter. Elissa, my son Thomas was just asking about you. The next time I visit, I shall bring him along."

 

"To what end?" Elissa asked, eyes fixed on the Grey Warden. He appeared to be just as fixated on her.

 

"Thomas is a few years younger than Elissa, Rendon," Bryce reminded his old friend, eyebrow raised. 

 

Howe waved dismissively. "A gap which fades with time."

 

The Grey Warden finally spoke. His voice was deep and booming. "You're a warrior, Lady Elissa?"

"Just Elissa," she corrected him. "And yes. I'm a warrior."

 

The tall man bowed his head slightly. "I am Duncan." He looked her up and down. "New armor?"

 

"Grey iron," Elissa nodded excitedly. "A name day gift from my father." 

 

"Did your mother need something, pup?" Bryce asked, clearly ready to end this dialogue and send her back to dinner.

 

"No," Elissa replied, shaking her head, eyes still glued to Duncan. "I couldn't pass up a chance to meet an actual Grey Warden. I've read and heard so many stories."

 

"Yes," Bryce conceded. "I told you those stories myself. Heroes of old, they were."

 

"And always looking for recruits," Howe added, with a twinkle in his eye.

 

"Elissa," Bryce said, his tone a little stricter now, "return to your mother and tell her to finish dinner without us. We will be here for quite some time."

 

She had to force herself to stop looking at Duncan and walk out the door. As she moved away, each footstep felt heavier than the last. She begrudgingly returned to the dining room, where Leonor and Oriana eagerly awaited her.

 

"Father says to finish without them," Elissa grumbled, stabbing her food with a fork.

 

***

When Bryce was sure Elissa was gone, he turned back to his guests. "How long?"

 

"The King set out three days ago," Howe replied. "Which means it will be at least another five until he reaches Ostagar."

 

Fergus turned to the Warden, heart pounding in his chest. "And if you're here, then that must mean... Blight."

 

The room quieted at the dreaded word. Fergus felt slightly faint after saying it aloud.

 

Duncan was somber. "Yes, my lord. The nightmare is upon us."

 

"Darkspawn have been reported throughout the southernmost settlements," Howe confirmed. "The King is calling all his banners and ordering us to report to Ostagar."

 

"My fellow Wardens and I stand ready, of course," Duncan assured them, "but we are fewer than needed. Volunteers are hard to find, and not every candidate survives becoming a Warden."

 

At a brief, tense pause, Bryce said in a low voice, "Fergus will lead our men to Ostagar; we'll need a few days to prepare." He looked at his son. "Call all our banners and notify our soldiers. I will remain here to ensure the safety and stability of Highever."

 

"And what of your daughter?" Duncan asked lightly.

 

Bryce's jaw tensed as he met the man's gaze. "My daughter will stay by her mother's side," the Teyrn replied firmly, and no one questioned him. "Now, my lords, allow me to summon my steward to prepare rooms and refreshments for you both."

 

"None for me, sir," Howe declined, shaking his head. "I must return home and ready our soldiers as well. Unfortunately, my Nathaniel is not as capable as your Fergus."

 

"So be it," Bryce said, nodding stiffly.

 

***

"Thomas?" Leonor asked, more baffled than appalled by the notion. She was helping her husband dress for bed. "Thomas Howe?"

 

"One and the same," Bryce sighed wearily.

 

Leonor still couldn't believe her ears. "Rendon wants our Elissa to marry his youngest son?" 

 

"A prospect even more terrifying than the Blight," her husband replied sourly. "It will never happen, of course. Even if by some miracle Elissa were to agree, I would never approve."

 

"You know," his wife suggested, "Bann Loren's son has returned from the capital. I hear he's grown into a very fine, cultured man, much like our Fergus."

 

"Bann Loren?" Bryce's brow furrowed. "Husband to Lady Landra?" He shuddered. "She's a dreadful woman. I've met sailors with more class."

 

"But her husband is loyal and her son may just be charming enough to sway our Elissa." Leonor paused facing her husband. "It's been almost a decade, Bryce."

 

"I know."

 

"Clearly, Oriana cannot bear more children. Oren's birth..." She trailed off, unable to finish.

 

Bryce's whole body was stiff. "I know, my love."

 

"If something were to happen to the child, our family, our lineage, everything we've worked for --" Leonor stopped herself, as though pausing to choose her next words. "I know Elissa is a great warrior. Were we a peasant family, I would kiss her goodbye and wish her well in the wars to come. But she is a lady, she must do her duty, and you can indulge her no longer."

 

Bryce closed his eyes  and breathed deeply. "Send for Lady Landra."

 

Next: Beauty