Chapter Five: Delayed Plans
Once the young Cousland had the dress on, she dreaded the moment she would have to leave the confines of her room. Her partially wet hair dripped upon the creamy shawl draping her shoulders as she tried to style it in a way her mother would approve of. Every attempt ended with it flopping against the backside of her elbows. She gave up trying to tease it into something "cute" and let it messily cover the wetness in her dress it had created. She put portions of it in front to hide the embarrassing hemming and partial cleavage exposure. Clara had found what she believed to be the perfect dress just laying around her quarters.
She had many dresses that would have fit Krista, though claimed this to be the
right one. It was a beautiful and innocent white, embroidered with a golden stitching. It had a small diamond-shaped opening where her breasts came together which annoyed her deeply, though she was happy her shoulders and lower neckline were completely covered. The midsection of the dress had a mini corset built inside, causing her stomach and ribs to ache with discomfort. The dazzling embroidery of the midriff broke off and cut into a steep "V" shape around her most coveted body part. Silk flowed out from beneath the lines and covered her legs and calloused feet, which were decorated with pointy slipper-like shoes that pinched her toes painfully. How funny that Clara did not have proper sized shoes for her feet.
Krista did not think they were very big. She knew they were smaller than Fergus's because his big toe was twice the size of her own and the length of his feet spread a decent bit past hers. However, compared to Clara's tiny, dainty, most perfect-looking feet, she supposed they did appear a bit monstrous. Even her mother was disappointed in Krista's calloused arches and heels. Apparently a Lady was supposed to be unreasonably soft and smooth everywhere, even in the hands that held blades for years, in the feet that took a harsh beating daily and in the scars and cracked skin where she had skidded across the ground many times in practice combat with the men. Yes, she would be so very smooth because she bathed in expensive lotions on a daily basis.
Right. "Maker, I look like an idiot," she groaned loudly as she stared at herself in the mirror.
She threw her wet hair over her left shoulder and let it reach down across her front side, still frustrated with it. She twirled it into a large cyclonic shape and left it to curl naturally; it was the best hairstyle she could think of with such wet locks. Her bangs took a natural flow to both sides of her face and tickled her chin as they rested beside her neck.
She sighed and focused her attention on the door. Biting her lip, she rested her hand upon its handle and closed her eyes. Her face felt heavy with the powders of Orlesian makeup, though the colors were not overpowering. Her shimmering blue eyeshadow and shiny light pink lips felt out of place on her face, but she promised she would wear this mask for the day. She felt an awkward unknown fear growing in her stomach and clawing at her heart. She was supposed to be pretty today, but what if she just came off as trying too hard? She wanted her father to remember her as the most perfect-looking, lovely daughter, not as an overly done-up disappointment. She was about to begin her journey as she opened her door with a gulp.
A Highever knight was standing in front of her, his body in a position to knock on the newly opened door. His hair was a beautiful auburn color and it was grown out to just above his shoulders. A small strand fell over his pale face. His dark brown eyes stared blankly at her face. She recognized the knight as her childhood friend, Ser Gilmore. He lowered his fist and looked upon the woman waiting to leave.
"Uh..." He seemed to be at a loss for words. "My lady..."
"Ser Gilmore," she said uneasily. His staring and lack of coherent sentence formation was making her nervous, not to mention the blush she was fighting back. She wanted to go to her mother before anyone saw her like this, but of course, it had to be a male soldier who was first to see her.
He cleared his throat, focusing on his duty as a faithful knight at castle Cousland. "Your father wishes to speak with you in the main hall. He asked me to remind you that there will be guests present and you should be on your best behavior."
"Aren't I always?" she jested. "You know, you don't always have to sound so serious. You'd think I'm the heir to the throne or something... Treat me like we're equal again, would you?"
He sighed quietly. "You know I cannot. Lest you forget..." He cleared his throat. "The Teyrn has asked me to go get the guards in order. Pardon me, my lady. I must be on my way."
Krista pursed her lips, her brows furrowed. She nodded, remembering how he was supposed to merely be a protector, not a friend or more than such. He walked away at a brisk and formal pace. The past crept up in her memories, but she pushed it back down, wishing she
could forget. Quickly, she made her way to the main antechamber of the castle, trying not to think of her failed attempts at teenage flings. There was a reason she did not let men close, many reasons in fact. She could not leave the past where it lay, even if she tried. Everything that happened made her who she was, but she still tried to forget it all when her heart ached inside her chest. The pain itself was reason enough.
As she approached the grand chamber, the sun was low in the sky and various guards stationed around the castle perimeters wished her a good evening. She carefully lifted her dress to step properly over the one crooked cobblestone leading through the doorway. Her father's gaze was away from her as she opened the door. His blue-gray eyes would be kind and appreciative of her willingness to wear beautiful garments for the sake of today; this she knew. He was always stunned by his daughter's beauty and proud of it and that made her feel good inside. The Teyrn's gray hair and wrinkles always showed the worry he had hid after all these years and anxiety was always clear on his face, even through his kind gazes.
After looking around for a moment she saw another person present the same age -if not older than her father- and held a far more condescending look; it was Arl Howe. Arl Howe's face was long and held an uncaring look about it. Even when he was smiling, it seemed like he wasn't truly enjoying it. It was as if he was just waiting for something else to come along and make him genuinely happy, but nothing was ever good enough. Krista wondered how anyone could put up with the man, for she certainly did not want to. His gaze made her feel more than uneasy; it made her feel dirty and unclean. He was a respected nobleman, but she did not care for him much, though she supposed she should just ignore his occasional lecherous glances and respect him like her father did. They were apparently very close friends in their youth and fought together in the war against the Orlesian Empire. They trusted each other with their lives, so she supposed she could spare a little respect for the man. After all, he had probably saved her father many times in the past. His cold appearance was most likely from the hardships of war. One could expect to become hardened after that.
Teyrn Bryce Cousland was in mid-sentence when she entered. He was looking into the nearby fireplace, deep in thought. Neither of them seemed to notice her presence yet. There were a few Cousland guards standing about and Howe's best bodyguard standing none too far from them, eying her suspiciously.
"- troops will be arriving shortly?" That was her father's business voice, sure enough; it was stern.
"I expect they will start arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow. I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault."
'Howe's men aren't here yet?' Krista thought to herself in utter shock.
'Why?' "No, no. The appearance of darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago, myself," the Teyrn said with understanding. He turned around and walked towards Howe. "I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!"
"True. But we both had less gray in our hair then. And we fought the Orlesians, not... monsters," the older-looking gentleman replied, though he did not seem frightened in the slightest.
Bryce laughed. "At least the smell will be the same."
Suddenly, his eyes found her waiting by the door. He smiled warmly. She felt awkward standing there and listening to his conversation like that, but it was best not to interrupt important matters.
"I'm sorry pup. I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my beautiful daughter, Krista?" he said with pride, motioning for her to come closer.
She joined their meeting and kept her mouth shut as the praise and pleasantries began. She wished she could skip through them and find out what her father wanted, but she knew it would have to wait.
"I see she's become a lovely young woman," the Arl responded, eying her quickly like a piece of candy before the Teyrn noticed. "Pleased to see you again, my dear. My son, Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him next time."
She stifled a comment about bringing the missing troops instead, but could not hide the brazen truth on her mind. "Yes, well... Was I brought here for a reason?"
The Teyrn sent a look of disdain her way as if to remind her that she should have manners and oblige the Arl in polite conversation.
He sighed. "Since your brother is leading our forces south and I'm going with the Arl, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle."
"What? Me? All by myself? Why can't I just ride into battle with you and Fergus? Mother should be able to rule the castle," she insisted.
"I'm certain you'd more than prove yourself, but I'm not willing to deal with your mother if you join the war. She'd kill me if I let you go. She's already twisted into knots about Fergus and me going."
"But that's not fair, just because mom says so. I want to fight!" She felt angered that her mother's worry was all that was keeping her from helping in battle. She felt so useless being told to stand in an empty castle and guard it from invisible enemies.
"You'll have your chance soon enough. This is no needless task. I ask you to take a great responsibility. You must keep peace in the region. Your mother will be traveling with Lady Landra to her estate to keep her company. You will have complete authority over the remaining guards here. You can't tell me that doesn't excite you pup, bossing the men around..."
Krista smiled lightly at him and quickly hid it from Howe's gaze. Her father certainly knew the right things to say to try and make her happy.
"Ah, there is also someone you must meet." He turned to one of the guards. "Please, show Duncan in."
The nearest guard left the room and reentered with the tan sailor-like man she had met earlier.
"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland," Duncan said, formally joining their meeting.
Krista watched suspiciously as Howe's body tensed.
'What's he so afraid of?' she wondered.
"Your lordship, you did not mention a Grey Warden would be present," Howe stated with some alarm.
Krista found it both strange and amusing that Arl Howe addressed her father so formally when they were supposedly good friends. Since the title of Teyrn was higher than Arl, it made sense for formality sake for Howe to address him so, but not as longtime friendship, which Krista would think took precedence over title. Then again, she knew she was terrible with politics and formal situations.
"Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?" Bryce asked his friend with a raised eyebrow. Arl Rendon Howe was acting rather strangely at the mention of this Warden.
"Of course not, but a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am... at a disadvantage," Howe defended.
Krista did not understand what any of that meant. She wondered what kinds of protocol should have been in order. Trumpets? Champagne? She also was curious about what he meant about being at a disadvantage. She couldn't even begin to contemplate what sorts of things he was talking about. Quite frankly, she didn't care. Howe could be jealous or afraid of this man and it mattered to her not. She unknowingly rolled her eyes and listened as her father filled the silence.
"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person that's true. Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope?"
"Yes, father. I actually had a brief discussion with Duncan this morning on the subject when he first arrived at our castle. Grey Wardens beat back the darkspawn of the last Blight, correct?"
"Not permanently, I fear," Duncan said with a anxious nod. "It is good to see you again, my lady."
"Well, then we can skip the introductions then," Bryce said with a chuckle. "Yes, Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."
Krista could not contain her jealousy. "What? But I can swoop rings around Ser Gilmore with my blades! I've beaten him every time in our matches!"
All three men stood with their eyebrows raised at her outburst. She realized how ridiculous she must have sounded and coughed lightly behind a closed palm to clear her throat.
"Well, if I might be so bold I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate," Duncan chuckled thoughtfully.
"Honor though that might be, this is my
daughter we're talking about. I haven't so many children that I'll gladly see them all off to battle," Bryce interjected with a heated tone. "Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription..."
Duncan held up a palm. "I apologize. Have no fear, Teyrn. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue."
'I knew it wasn't just mother keeping me from battle. It's father's wish as well. Don't I get a say in this?' she wondered.
The Teyrn nodded appreciatively and smiled at Krista.
"Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I am gone?"
"Don't strain my abilities or anything," she commented with annoyance.
"And don't strain my patience," he snapped in a harsh tone.
She straightened up and bit her lip. She nodded. "Of course, father."
Bryce Cousland softened his tone and sent her an apologetic look. He never sounded so harsh. This war business was really taking a toll on him. She knew she should not let his brief anger make her sad, but she did not want her father to remember her as a bratty child.
"In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me," he said.
"What? Are you trying to get rid of me?" she joked with a slightly sad smile for him.
"I'm sorry pup. But we must discuss the battle plans in the south. Be a good lass and do as I've asked. We'll talk soon," he said with some compassion.
She debated just leaving things like that, but her heart would not let her. She kissed her father on the forehead.
"Of course, father." She turned to the Arl. "I wish you well, Arl Howe. Stay safe."
"I... that is quite unnecessary," Howe stated, taken aback by her kind gesture.
Finally, Krista faced the Grey Warden. "Duncan, may we speak later? I am sure there is much I can learn from you."
Duncan smiled at her. "Your father has left you in charge of the castle? Then I will see you at dinner, if not sooner."
"Well, I was also hoping that you might test me for recruitment. I'm curious as to what the test would be and if I would pass," Krista admitted.
"We would be honored and thrilled to have you in our ranks, but I will not go against your father's wishes. If you wish to discuss this further, let us talk after your father and the Arl depart," he responded kindly.
"I'm standing right here, you know," Bryce commented, shooting them both a disapproving glance.
"I'm only satisfying my host's curiosity, as tempting a recruitment might be," Duncan explained neutrally.
Bryce laughed. "You'll give her ideas if you keep on like that. You'll find that Krista's curiosity is one never satisfied."
Krista huffed, knowing she was not being taken seriously. She walked away from the three of them, leaving them to their battle plans. Howe's bodyguard stopped her to converse. He seemed shady for a nobleman's soldier, but she obliged his conversation anyway.
"Good evening, my lady. You are the Teyrn's daughter then, are you not?" he asked with a strange hint of ulterior motive, but she couldn't quite catch what it was.
"I am indeed, Krista Cousland," she replied with a curt politeness.
"That is good to know. I understand you'll take... eh, charge of your father's castle once we march."
'
What's he getting at?' she thought.
She squinted her eyes at him. "So I'm told, yes."
"Ah, then I wish you luck. Good evening, my lady."
His smile sent chills down her spine and the way he said this made her cringe. She did not need luck. Why would he wish it upon her? Everyone knew life at the castle was going to be uneventful with most of the soldiers gone and all of her family out of the castle. She wondered if maybe she could get the remaining men to spar with her. She exited the hall to come face to face with the handsome redheaded knight Ser Gilmore once more.
