Chapter Three: Fall

Previously: Beauty

 

"When I first came home," Dairren confessed, as Elissa led him through the endless halls of Castle Cousland, "everything seemed smaller. Mother's carriage, my father's country estate... but I must say, your family castle is as massive as ever."

 

"How long were you in Orlais?" Elissa asked, walking slowly. She didn't want the conversation to end too soon. Dairren was the first and only boy to ever hold a special place in her heart, and now he was a man fully grown.

 

"Since I was ten," he replied. "I asked my father and fully expected him to say no. I'm a second son, after all. I thought I'd be packed off to the Chantry. But my father's an ambitious man, and he wants more for me than he ever had himself. Jader is close to Ferelden; it's where diplomatic negotiations typically take place. It was easy for him to find some wealthy lord of equal ambition to foster me."

 

"Wealthy lord?"

 

"Mai oui, le Baron de Boutin." His Orlesian pronunciation was flawless, rolling off his tongue with ease. "His family's has been acquiring vineyards for the past two generations, and they own their own brewery. Personally, I can't even abide the smell of wine, but I know my vintages."

 

Elissa chuckled. "I prefer a good ale, myself."

 

"Ah," he said, smiled. "A proper Ferelden girl. I thought your Antivan mother would've 'civilized' that out of you by now."

 

"Oh, it's not for lack of trying, I assure you. Yesterday, I was in full armor, brand new. And today..." She glanced down at her blue gown. "I'm wearing... this."

 

They stopped right in front of his room. "It favors you, truly," he said, meeting her eyes.

 

Her heart thudded again. She swallowed and quickly recovered. "Do you require refreshments? I know you must be so tired of all that travel."

 

"Refreshments would be lovely," he said with a smile. "Especially if you join me."

 

Elissa beamed. "I will summon a maid."

 

***

 

The hours passed like minutes. They enjoyed frothy ales with honey cakes, fresh fruit, and later, meat pies. She told him of her training, the rigorous hours of walking, lifting heavy lumber, and practicing with swords. She showed him her scars. He told her of his travels across Orlais, of dinners and dances, of libraries, lords, and ladies. He showed her his books and trinkets he'd collected over the years.

 

"There must have been many lovely ladies after you," she teased him.

 

He shook his head. "They'd approach me, but then I'd speak, and suddenly I was nothing more than Ferelden barbarian from the country."

 

"They sound like tiresome people," she said, echoing his mother.

 

There was silence, save for the soft crackling of the hearth. They looked at each other fondly for a moment, breathing in unison, uninhibited by endless tankards of ale.

 

"You've truly grown into a remarkable lady," Dairren finally said.

 

"I've thought of you since we were children," Elissa confessed.

 

They moved at the same time, like two cats pouncing. They were in each other's arms in a flash, kissing, tugging at each other's clothes without thinking. All caution and reason fell away as he carried her to his bed, never taking his mouth from hers. 

 

We will marry, Elissa realized, and her whole body relaxed. The old fears vanished as she fully embraced the life ahead. She could marry a man like Dairren. She didn't mind how soft and cultured he was. She was warrior enough for both of them. When they were gone from Castle Cousland, and she was a lady in her own house, she could finally do as she liked.

 

We'll have a house in the country, she distantly thought between scorching kisses. A house in the city, in Denerim. We'll travel to Orlais... Nevarra... Antiva...

 

As their passion intensified, thought devolved into instinct. His skin was warm and his body heavy, and that was all that mattered. The world shrank to the size of the bedchamber, then to the size of the bed itself. They were all that existed, an entire universe borne of sheer pleasure. Elissa managed a final thought before succumbing to an all-consuming bliss.

 

We're going to make beautiful children. 

 

***

 

Elissa crept back to her chambers some time before nightfall. The castle was mostly silent at this hour, and she knew exactly how to dodge the guards and servants.

 

She had just closed her bedroom door when an alarm rang out. Suddenly the hall was filled with the sounds of doors opening and heavy footsteps.

 

Elissa rolled her eyes. For Andraste's sake, I'm not missing.

 

Someone pounded on her door and she opened it to see her mother looking frantic. She was about to tell Leonor all that transpired, knowing it would result in an almost immediate wedding. And for once, the thought didn't bother her.

 

"The castle is under attack," her mother rasped. "We need to find your father."

 

Elissa's back straightened. "What?"

 

"The captain of the guard says Arl Howe has betrayed us."

 

Elissa stared at her stupidly, fleetingly wondering if news her tryst had traveled so far, so fast, and now the old man was offended that she wouldn't be marrying his youngest son.

 

Servants are known to babble after all, she told herself.

 

"Howe?" she said, dazed. "Why would--"

 

"Never mind that," Leonor snapped. "Put on your armor and arm yourself. We must find your father."

 

Elissa armed and armored herself, but for the first time, she felt no thrill. The castle was really under attack. She was really about to fight.

 

She was quite possibly about to die.

 

"Stay behind me," she told her mother, trying to keep her voice steady. "Baby!" she called to an adjoining chamber. The Mabari war hound immediately came to her side, and she felt a little better.

 

First she went to her brother's suite to check on Oriana and Oren. The sitting room was silent, lit only by a dying hearth. Oriana and Fergus's room was empty, so they went to Oren's. And that's where they found mother and son, lying in a giant pool of their own blood.

 

Elissa's heart stopped as she heard her mother gasp Oren's name. The older woman flew to the child's side, cradling his small body. Elissa was still, numb... she heard her mother's cries as though from the distance.

 

And then... footsteps. They seemed to grow louder, closer, and --

 

Baby moved first, pouncing an attacker and pinning them to the floor as he mauled the soldier's throat.

 

Elissa spun instantly, raising her left blade to block a falling battleaxe while plunging her right blade into the attacker's chest. His armor was cheap and thin; her dagger went straight through his heart. Their eyes met for a brief moment. He choked as his warm blood ran out, and she felt it on her hand.

 

An eternity passed as she processed the fact she'd just killed a man. She quickly returned to the moment, telling herself she'd have to deal with it later. Elissa leaned back, pushing the attacker off her blade with her right foot.

 

"Mother, let's move!" she called urgently. "More will come!"

  

After the first kill, the rest came easily. Arl Howe's men were poorly trained and cheaply armored. But even as Elissa ruthlessly cut them down, she mentally noted they had numbers in their favor.

 

And the element of surprise, she grimly reminded herself. 

 

They went on to the guest wing. Lady Landra's door was cast wide and the poor woman lay dead in a pool of blood and wine, still clutching her cup, even in death. Elissa's heart thudded as they moved to Dairren's room. The door was cruelly closed, and she pushed it open, already knowing what she'd find.

 

If we had married and moved away, I would've been warrior enough for us. I could've protected him.

 

"Merciful Andraste," Leonor gasped.

 

"Come," she said flatly, turning away from her lover's corpse, still warm and naked in bed, sheets and pillows soaked in blood. "Andraste has abandoned us."

 

***

 

Outside was chaos, fire, smoke, and screaming. There was no end to the bodies. Howe soldiers, Cousland guards, innocent servants caught in the crossfire... their bodies were strewn about the castle, stripped of all dignity despite still being clothed.

 

"There's a secret exit in the back of the kitchens," Leonor whispered, her whole body trembling. "Your father would've gone there."

 

Elissa's voice was still devoid of emotion. "The chaos favors us," she said, leading the way.

 

Most of the castle guards were dead, so Elissa cut down anyone wearing armor. She moved swiftly, without hesitation, wielding her dual blades with deadly purpose. She used no fancy moves, and struck killing blows only.

 

Baby followed suit, mauling anyone who attacked. By the time they reached the kitchens, warrior and war hound were covered in blood.

 

The kitchen servants all lay dead and a single warrior fought off their killers. It took Elissa a moment to recognize Duncan, the Grey Warden, and another to see her father bleeding at his feet.

 

"Baby!" Elissa called. The war hound leapt into the fray as did Elissa. Together they cut a bloody swathe through the attackers until the last few gave up and fled. Leonor knelt by her husband, checking his wounds.

 

"My love," she rasped, "you've lost so much."

 

"Too much, I'm afraid," Bryce said, gasping for breath. He looked up at Duncan. "Get my wife and daughter to safety."

 

"We can all get to safety," Elissa protested.

 

Bryce shook his head. "I won't make it."

 

"Elissa," Duncan said lowly, "if we're going to leave, we have to go now."

 

"Go, my love," Bryce told his wife.

 

Leonor frantically shook her head. "I won't leave you."

 

"Leonor--"

 

"I won't leave you!" she screamed. "Oren is dead. Oriana dead. The castle is lost." She glared defiantly. "I will not leave you."

 

Elissa was dismayed. "Mother!"

 

"You go," Leonor ordered. "This is the final command from your Teyrn and Teyrna. Go. Survive. Tell the world what happened here. Tell Antiva what happened here, for as the crow flies, so do those who owe them a debt."

 

Bryce locked eyes with Duncan. The Grey Warden nodded briskly, before grabbing Elissa's arm and forcefully pulling her away.

 

"We can't leave them!" Elissa shook her head. Despite years of strength training, she was no match for the hardened veteran. "I can't just leave them!" 

 

"Live to fight another day, young Warden," the hulking warrior told her, as she struggled in vain. "And then win by any means necessary."

 

Next: Letters