Having finished Dragon Age for the umpteenth time, this time as I completed the game, I could see the story I wanted it to be spilling into my mind. This is how I imagine the story of my character in Dragon Age would go, in a bit more depth, detail and emotion than you can really get from the game (no offence to Bioware-they've done a fine job-but there's only so much a game can do!)
First fanfiction I've ever done, so rate and let me know what you think. I will try to do this as often as I can, when my other works don't intrude.
And of course, with the exception of my character and the embellishments I make to this, all content and characters belong to Bioware and David Gaider.
Above all else..ENJOY!
Prologue: A Child of Destiny
9:10, Dragon Age
Few had expected the announcement that King Maric made in the great city of Denerim; that he was repealing the decree that had exiled the Grey Wardens- that ancient, obscure order of warriors devoted to their so-claimed 'never-ending' war with the darkspawn- from Ferelden for the better part of two centuries and allowing the order to re-establish their position and their numbers within his realm. Many of the lords and ladies of his court questioned his decision to do so, but all the King of Ferelden would say to the dissenters and disapprovers was that he had seen the true nature of the threat beneath mankind's feet for himself.
The Grey Warden assigned to be the Order's leader in Ferelden, a severe man of middle years by the name of Duncan had bowed to what he called "King Maric's great wisdom in acknowledging the threat posed by the darkspawn" and said that he would work to prepare Ferelden for any and all threats the darkspawn could come to pose to the kingdom.
Miles further to the north, in the castle of the House of Cousland, built to house the ruling lord of the city of Highever and his family, another momentous event was taking place in the bed chamber of the Teyrn.
The teyrn, a dark haired man in his early thirties, paced back and forth outside the chamber as from inside, he could hear agonised female screams. Servants carrying bowls of water and bundles of clean linen raced in and out of the room, but none stopped to answer his questions, attending to their tasks inside the chamber. For what seemed like hours, he waited outside his own room, pacing back and forth, anxiously running fingers through his dark hair and uneasily listening to the screams, the yells, the calls of reassurance and support, until finally, one noise cut through all those coming from within; the sound of an infant crying as it took its first breaths.
As Bryce Cousland, teyrn of Highever, one of the highest lords of the kingdom of Ferelden and father of a newborn child listened in joyful relief to the cries, a dark-haired elven serving girl, her eyes wide at what she had seen, poked her head around the bed chamber door and said "You can come in now, my lord".
Bryce, as nervous as he was facing the chevaliers at White River, stepped into his own room, both anticipating and dreading what he was about to face. Inside, lying on the great bed he and his wife shared, he could see Eleanor, white-faced with exhaustion, one of her friends placing a damp cloth to her brow, while one of the servants tended to the newborn babe, asleep in a crib carved by a master carpenter of Highever days before. Bryce moved over to the right side of the bed and took his wife's limp hand.
"How are you, my love?" he asked.
"Fine, no thanks to you. You're no longer welcome in this bed, Bryce!" she jokingly snapped. Bryce laughed and then nodded towards the crib.
"A boy" Eleanor replied. "We have another son".
Bryce walked over to the cradle and looked down on the sleeping infant; it was undoubtedly their child. A small tuft of reddish-brown hair, like his own, crowned the sleeping child's head, yet he could see his wife's high cheekbones and large eyes. He gently picked up the child, holding his newborn son up to his face, trying to ensure the babe didn't wake up.
"Born with a raised fist and a hearty battle cry on his lips" Bryce mused. "He'll make a fine warrior one day, of that I have no doubt!"
"And what do you want to call him, my love?" his wife asked of him.
"You gave birth to him" Bryce answered, but Eleanor persisted. "I named Fergus. I think it only fair you name him this time".
"Fair enough" Bryce bowed to his wife's logic. "A child born on a momentous day as this deserves a name of weight, of power, of heritage". He turned back to his sleeping son "I name you...Arthur, second son of House Cousland. Now come, my child, and see the lands you are destined to defend, and perhaps one day rule!"
In two cities of Ferelden, far apart from one another, two great cheers rose from the people.
In Denerim, a great cheer went up as the King and the Warden Commander, comrades, heroes and friends, signed the new accord and shook hands, cementing a new chapter for both Ferelden and the Grey Wardens.
In Highever, a great cheer went up from the city's people as their lord held aloft his newborn son, a man who they knew would one day change and shape their lives.
If only they knew how much...