Chapter Twelve: Ostagar's Welcome
A royal soldier looked out beyond the origin of Ostagar. The forms were distant, but visible.
"Sir, on the horizon."
"Is that...
Duncan?" the king asked, squinting and shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. "He was not scheduled to return for at least another day."
The royal soldier beside him looked up towards his king and nodded solemnly.
"He looks wounded," the golden-haired king continued. "What is that he's carrying?"
Duncan looked up desperately, knowing scouts should be posted nearby. They were absent. Searching frantically, he caught sight of a golden glint in the distance. He shifted the young rogue's weight on his shoulder, tightening his grip on her legs and maintaining a swift pace in the direction of the encampment.
"It looks like a body," the soldier answered. "They're covered in blood. Darkspawn blood. They need help."
"Then we must not delay," the king responded with determination.
He gathered a group of soldiers and departed from their post, heading towards the wounded Grey Warden. Duncan saw the shimmering moving, coming closer. He breathed heavily, chest heaving within his silverite breastplate.
Nugget was trailing behind him, bolstered down with Krista's weapons. Duncan stole a glance at the faithful hound; the mabari was tired, dragging the tip of the longsword on the dirt behind him. The straps were starting to loosen around his belly. In his haste, Duncan had failed to make sure the bonds were taught before moving on. The hound looked up at his mistress, whose face looked sad as it swayed against Duncan's back. Nugget trotted behind the Grey Warden to lick Krista's fingers, which quivered in the wind as they oscillated limply in sync with her arms. They did not twinge in response as they usually did. They hung lifeless and bruised against the backside of the Warden.
Duncan heard the mabari whine lowly, as if he were distressed by the turn of events. He probably was; mabari always had been intelligent creatures and this one cared deeply about his owner. The Grey Warden continued making his way towards Ostagar, noticing the King and a small troop of soldiers hurrying towards them. He motioned to quicken his pace, but then thought of the arrow still lodged in his companion's back and remained at his current speed. Blood trickled out from the edge of her collar and ran down her neck slowly. Duncan had no need to look to know that she needed medical attention. Each second that passed was a moment in which they became closer to attaining assistance.
He thought of how strange she looked moments before she succumbed to her wound. The girl was driven by a fury he had not seen or heard of during his brief stay at the castle. She was allowed to feel anger, certainly, but this was beyond that. Was it vengeance or simply grief and pain? Only time would tell.
"Duncan! What has happened?" the king asked in great concern, his golden hair flowing in the summer breeze.
His hazel eyes searched for a sign in the Grey Warden's appearance. He saw murky, tainted blood on his friend's armor. A dark look was plastered on Duncan's face, tired and worried. Both the king and his soldiers couldn't help but notice the set of peach-colored legs beside his face, complete with scanty shorts and a shapely feminine posterior. The flaps that usually covered Krista's thighs had slid to the side and rode up to her stomach, exposing the shorts that Garnet had given her before her departure at the castle. The king quickly pushed his men forward and cleared his throat.
"King Cailan..." the Grey Warden responded with a winded sigh of relief. "Darkspawn attacked us just outside the perimeter. I was unprepared for such an attack and my recruit was injured. She needs a healer, quickly, your majesty."
Cailan managed a short snort as he ordered two soldiers to take the woman from Duncan.
"You're still insistent on formalities? Duncan, we'll be shedding blood together," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his armor as he watched his men carefully grab the rogue's legs and shoulders.
"She was shot with an arrow. It's in her back. Please, be careful," Duncan explained as he made sure the soldiers were being mindful of the object still lodged within her skin.
Nugget snarled at the soldiers and they jumped, nearly dropping the young woman.
"Her mabari. Don't worry about him. Get her out of here," he growled as he turned towards the canine to pet his head reassuringly.
The soldiers repositioned themselves to grab her by the thighs, her knees bending to 90 degrees. The proceeded to arch their arms behind her back for support for quick transport, cautiously avoiding the arrow. Duncan watched them depart with apprehension. Cailain took a moment to look at her face before they had a chance to leave.
"Who is she?" Cailan asked as his men scurried off towards the encampment with the woman. "She looks familiar, though I'm fairly certain we've never met."
Duncan found himself hesitating. This was the king and he needed to know before Arl Howe was able to spread his lies. However, Krista Cousland had made it clear she wanted no one judging her for her origins, nor did she want to tell the tale herself. He felt it wasn't his place to comment, but the king had to know. If anyone could ensure that Arl Howe would be brought to justice, it was him. Already, Duncan could see the wheels turning in Cailan's head. Surely he would notice that she was someone of nobility sooner or later.
"King Cailan, she is-" Duncan began.
"Ah!" the king interrupted, realization clear in his voice. "She is Bryce's youngest, is she not? Her fathers stories did her justice, it seems. She looks just like him. They way he went on about her, I never thought she would be allowed into battle, no matter how hard she fought. How did you convince him to allow her to become a Grey Warden, Duncan?"
He smiled happily at the Grey Warden, who did not smile back.
"Your majesty, she is indeed the daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland. But her reason for being here is not a pleasant one. Something terrible has happened at the castle. Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor and overtaken Highever Castle," he explained gravely.
The Grey Warden swallowed hard, knowing that this was not an easy subject for any noble to hear. The nobility were supposed to be loyal and at least tolerant of one another. This would surely be disturbing news to the king.
"Had we not escaped," he continued, "he would have killed us and told you any story he wished."
King Cailan merely turned his back to him, digesting the relayed information. He knew the Teyrn quite well and was hurt to hear of his sudden death. He was angry as he spun to face Duncan. Howe thought to push himself forward. At this rate, he would be the next target of assassination. Did Howe seek the throne for himself? It certainly seemed like he wanted to move himself up the chain of command- and no one had more power than the king.
"I... can scarcely believe it! How could he think he could get away with such treachery!" the golden-haired man shouted in rage. "As soon as we're done here... I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice."
He calmed himself and sent Duncan a sad look. "You know, her brother was asking about him yesterday... Telling stories of home... of everyone... Just like his father with his tales... This is awful. I don't look forward to the turmoil this will surely cause."
"Your majesty, I believe she will be eager to see him when she awakens."
"That's going to be a problem. He and his men are scouting in the Wilds. I fear his return is not expected until the battle is over. We cannot even afford to send word... I would like to speak with the Lady when she wakes. I want to assure her she has my support."
"I am certain she will appreciate it, Cailan," Duncan agreed with a heavy heart. "She is strong, but the turn of events have shaken her core. However, I have no doubts that she will become a full Grey Warden. There is something special about the young lady."
"There's something special about her? Bryce said that often," Cailan sighed heavily as he paced back and forth slowly. "This news is indeed unsettling, but we cannot afford to distract ourselves with other matters at this point. I shall deal with Howe after the battle. But we will begin our final assault on the darkspawn come three days time. I hope that will be enough for you to prepare your recruits?"
The two men faced each other, Duncan's features troubled.
"Your majesty, I urge you to reconsider the plan. Reinforcements from the Grey Wardens in Orlais could make all the difference in this battle. I believe the darkspawn have not been showing you their true numbers," the Grey Warden pleaded.
"I'm not even sure this is a true Blight. Duncan, we surely would have seen more darkspawn by now. We have reigned victorious in all of our battles with them thusfar. I expect our next battle to be no different. We have many armies here. There is nothing to worry about, my friend," Cailan reassured him as he took a few steps towards the settlement of Ostagar and chuckled. "I was busy avoiding a meeting with Teyrn Loghain when my men spotted you. I should get to him before he decides to send out a search party. Surely you could use a rest from your journey?"
Duncan nodded gravely. He did not agree with the king, but he was the one orchestrating all the armies, leading the men. It seemed Duncan's pleas –the pleas of a seasoned Grey Warden- would go unheeded. He only hoped it would not cost them the war with the darkspawn. Together, he and Cailan began to travel towards the encampment. Nugget trailed behind them, the sword tip scraping against the uneven cobblestones.
The royal soldiers were farther ahead, passing through the threshold of Ostagar's secondary gates on the opposite site of the bridge. The young woman's head lolled to and fro as they greeted the postman.
"Maker's breath. What has happened?"
"Duncan and his new recruit fought some darkspawn on their way here," one of the royal soldiers responded.
A nearby onlooker furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed one of the soldiers by the shoulder. His splintmail armor clanked as he stumbled forward clumsily to greet them.
"Did I hear you right? Duncan's back? Already? But he wasn't supposed to be back-"
"For another three days. We know." They motioned towards the young woman. "She's got an arrow in the back. Could be poisoned. Out of our way."
"Of course." The young man quickly stepped away from their path, warily eyeballing the arrow lodged in the back of the woman as they passed.
He looked out across the bridge and saw his mentor's form slowly make its way forwards. The king was with him, as was an unfamiliar mabari that had something strapped around its back. He crossed his arms as he waited patiently for news from the approaching Grey Warden.
"Alistair," Duncan said with a surprised chuckle. "You seem distraught. You haven't been riling up mages, I hope?"
Alistair didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. "I... you're back early. Did something happen?"
Duncan looked at Alistair gravely. The King passed them, grumbling as he entered Teyrn Loghain's tent.
"My trip to Highever was cut short. However, I did return with a recruit as you have probably seen," he explained delicately.
"That woman? Yes I saw there was an arrow stuck in her shoulder. Lots of darkspawn blood too. Can't imagine it was a pleasant welcome awaiting your return," Alistair responded, knowing there was more to the story than Duncan was letting on. "But I'm … a little confused."
His mentor motioned for Alistair to walk beside him and continue conversing while they set a course for his tent. The mabari growled lowly at the stranger as it wedged itself between the two men.
Duncan looked down at the mabari and then back at his charge. "Speak freely, Alistair."
"It's just.. You said you would be bringing back a recruit from Highever Castle. I didn't think they had women in their army. N-not that it's bad to have women in an army. There are plenty here, of course. I just mean to say... the last I remember was the Teyrn writing that he had a soldier in mind already: Gilmund or something or other? Did he not pass your test?"
"He was not my first choice," Duncan stated bluntly.
"And that woman was? She must have done fairly well to outdo the Teyrn's recommendation," Alistair commented in an awed tone.
Nugget growled at him as though he could understand the man. Alisatir looked at the canine incredulously, trying to explain himself though he knew it was only a dog.
"I'm not saying she's a bad choice. I don't even know her. It's just... most of the men here aren't going to get a great first impression. Most of them spend their time trying to protect women. She's wounded her first day here. Are you... certain she can handle herself?"
Duncan said nothing, though he thought Alistair would be humbled to know she was the Teyrn's daughter and came second to none in her father's eyes. He let a moment of silence pass as he pondered what to say.
"She killed three darkspawn. Her hound killed two. She saved my life by taking that arrow in the back. It surely would have wounded me in her place. Alistair, be assured that she can take care of herself," Duncan responded as he felt his muscles ache.
"Fair enough," Alistair conceded quickly. "I was worried about the others. I know we're all supposed to get along and make nice but I get the feeling not everyone is going to be doing that. If she succeeds... I mean she would be the first female Grey Warden to join our current ranks here in Ferelden."
"She will be. I am sure of it. I... need to rest," Duncan sighed as he seated himself by the bonfire pit outside his tent.
"You're confident in her," Alistair stated, impressed.
"She has come far in little time," Duncan responded in a conflicted tone.
He carefully laid the shield beside him as Alistair planted himself on the ground beside the shield. Nugget calmly walked over to Duncan's left and waited for him to untie his straps so he could rest. He wagged his tail and laid down as the weight was lifted from him.
"Is that a Highever shield? It looks different. Those funny markings... I've never seen those," Alistair remarked as his eyes glanced over the metal plate.
"I feel you should ask her yourself when she awakens, if you are so curious. She could use some company, I think. It has been a struggle for her, Alistair. I believe she needs a friend, someone to talk to. She bottles things inside... And things are going to get harder once the Joining begins... so she will need to trust that person when emotions and information starts spilling out. She will need a fellow Grey Warden to talk to about the changes it will bring. You are a perfect candidate for the task," he replied, raising an eyebrow at his pupil. "I can say no more on her personal matters."
"So, was that an order?" Alistair asked, unsure of how to react. "Befriend the new recruit? Because women- I mean
people- usually don't like me very much. They say I talk too much and I'm strange. Then they make fun of my hair and don't laugh at my jokes. It really hurts my feelings, Duncan," he said sarcastically with a somewhat repressed laugh.
"It was merely a suggestion, Alistair," Duncan said with a chuckle. "I think you will get along well. She's been through much, so she will likely be distant until she warms up to the idea of being a Grey Warden."
"Wait, so she didn't come here willingly?" Alistair asked, the jovial tone gone from his voice; he was now surprised.
Duncan sighed and rubbed his temples tiredly. "Fighting every step of the way."
"So why take her if she hates the idea so much? Do you think she'll change her mind now that she's here? What if she tries to run away?" Alistair's eyebrows were raised in confusion. He shook his head as his brows furrowed. "Do we need to force people now?"
"It is not so simple. As I said, she needs a friend -not just to talk to, but to tether her to reality. The woman she once was... The life she had... That's all over now. It will be a difficult journey, but she will carve out a new path to follow. She was tired because our passage from Highever was a sleepless one for her. Nightmares of the recent past haunted her every attempt to dream and sleep soundly. Still, she took out darkspawn at her worst. She will be twice the woman once she regains her strength."
"She sounds..." Alistair trailed, looking for the right word.
"Powerful?" Duncan suggested as he leaned back upon his elbows and looked to the sky.
"Scary, more like," he responded as he crossed his legs. "And that's her hound?"
"Yes. She calls him
Nugget -of all things," the elder Grey Warden mused. "The mabari hardly leaves her side, very loyal. I wonder how long she's had him?"
"Long enough, I suppose, if he's that enamored with her. What's her name?" Alistair queried.
Duncan sent him a hard look.
"What? You can at least tell me that if we're to trade girly bedtime stories and gossip about boys," Alistair said as he quirked an eyebrow.
Duncan sighed as he turned his head to look towards the infirmary tents. Even though he could not see her, he knew she would be fine and he was uncertain of how much of her life she wished to be divulged to strangers. A simple name told so much and yet so little at the same time. After a long pause, the senior Grey Warden answered.
"Krista."
The healers in the tent dodged flailing arms and kicking legs. She was screaming the moment they began extracting the foreign object and mana touched her skin. The healers wondered if she was awake as she thrashed about. Tears streamed down her face as she yelled nonsensically at the gray-haired mages. A dark-haired elven man ran over to help, trying to grab her arms to stop the struggle. Just as he was about to bind her with an incantation, she slipped her right arm free and punched him in the jaw. He stumbled away from her, cursing in the Maker's name as he attended to his own injury.
Suddenly, everything began coming together; everything seemed so clear. She felt like a prisoner, watching everything from inside her own body. She could hear herself panting and hollering at the figures surrounding her, but it felt like a dream. A warm pressure seeped into her, circulating through her body instantly. It caused such unrest inside and numbed her limbs. Why was everyone so on edge? Was that really her voice? It sounded so hoarse and foreign. This moment of clarity soon passed and she found her fear taking hold once more, pulling her back inside.
Her eyelids fluctuated from open to closed again, images swirling above in a blue glow. The warm pressure emanated from that blue energy. She wanted to be away from it. Was it Howe? Had he found her already? It might be a blessing to give in. At least then she would be reunited with her family. But there were icy tendrils and blackness calling to her gently, soothingly. They pulled her into a new reality. She saw claws for a moment, grasping at her and digging into the ground around where she lay. This monstrous power demanded she join it in the darkness. She rose to her feet, shying away from the creature. As she looked around, she found the setting was unfamiliar. A blackened city faded into existence, surrounding her. Distorted shapes of men came forward, hobbling through illuminated pathways.
They must be mages. The robes... the feathered pauldrons... The chantry warned of them, had they not? Was this their city? Their tainted and twisted fingers formed tiny cracks in the buildings they touched as they passed by. The cracks spread like a disease throughout the city, giving everything a sickening glow to it. She found it hard to move as they approached. They reached out to her, crooked fingers clawing at her, holding her shoulder firmly and looking with glowing eyes. The cracks began to flow through her, infecting her. The mage closest to her cocked his head to the side unnaturally, wanting to speak, though his mouth had been sewn shut -for ages, it seemed. He pricked his fingertip with one of his sharp nails, never taking his eyes from hers. He moved his head about, trying to speak. His now bloody finger jabbed towards her shoulder and pressed forward until it was deep inside. His purple skin and talon-like finger pulsed within her. The mage, he...
it... smiled at her with sinister malice.
She wanted to scream but found such a thing impossible. Her eyes were fixated on his as the pain spread throughout her body. Raising her heavy hands, she pushed away. Free will seemed so out of reach, but she had to try. She turned from the group of mages and ran, though the magic now coursing through her told her to stay. The city crumbled around her as she tried to make an escape. The heaviness in her legs was sapping her strength. What had those mages done? Were her legs stone? The road behind her grew clearer as the magic set the city ablaze in blue flames. But the path ahead was dark, unnerving. She continued to run to the blackness, losing herself within it. Further and further the Cousland girl traveled, until she looked back and saw the mages waiting atop golden stairs to the tainted and crumbling city. They watched her progress but traveled no more than their current position, almost as if bound there.
She seemed so far from them now, but her legs needed to move even more. She kept going into the unknown pit of darkness, never knowing if the floor was going to give out beneath her or if she would face an unseen barrier to bar her path. As she glanced back again, the city was gone, consumed by the surrounding darkness. She was lost and alone. The magic cackling through her body had subsided its glow, but it left a burn in her veins she could not quite describe. She wondered if Howe had somehow captured her, having some mage torture her with visions.
A growl came from above and she looked, seeing nothing. Two eyes appeared, glowing bright green and clearly inhuman. The death, and evil hanging in the air... It told her this was a far worse fate than Howe and it watched her with hungry eyes. She clenched her own eyes shut to hide from whatever monster she was seeing.
"Poison..." a distant unfamiliar voice echoed sadly.
"Poison...?" Krista repeated tiredly in a confused frame of mind. She then fell to her knees in defeat. "So Howe poisoned me... I really am going to die, aren't I? All this fighting and struggling to save me and it ends here.."
"Darkspawn..." a familiar voice reverberated through the darkness.
"Duncan?" Krista opened her eyes and looked around furtively.
She could make out a tiny light source in the distance, a beacon of hope.
"I... That's right. We were fighting darkspawn..." she recalled as she touched her forehead. She took a few steps towards the light.
"...Grey Wardens...
tainted... blood..." the stranger's voice was broken with worry.
"She
will survive..." Duncan replied firmly.
He was getting clearer with every step she took towards the white aura guiding her. A pang of guilt shot through her. How could she forget that she was traveling with him? Her shoulder began to throb again and she grasped at it. She was shot. The arrow... She could remember that now –well, more like she could feel it now.
"Duncan! I'm here! Can you hear me! I'm here!" she called fervently as she ran towards her goal.
"...minor injury. She'll recover quickly," the other voice said tiredly. It sounded old and feminine. "But she will need to be careful not to open the wound. … today... rest..."
The words dribbled off into nothingness. Krista was straining her ears as she approached the thin barrier of light before her. What in the Maker's name was this?
"...We will send the recruits out tomorrow to begin the ritual. Will that be soon enough?"
She touched the Veil with her fingertips and then warily stepped through the barrier.
She was back on the medical cot in the infirmary. She could smell sandalwood in the air as her eyes fluttered open. Things were blurry and she only had a moment to look around before her body grew heavy with sleep enchantments. She saw Duncan leaving the tent as her eyes drowsily shut once more.
