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Three Shards of Fate	By : KRMtheAuthoress Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2017 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age franchise/fandom and therefore make no money. Only thing is the original character. Duh, that's obvious.

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Hello everyone!
While I love writing and am quite prolific for it (I tend to write something for any sort of movie/game/book/etc I love XD) I tend not to post it anywhere. But the Dragon Age fandom seems quite fun and hopefully writing and posting this will get me out of my posting shyness.
I adore Origins and its idea of 6 different beginnings/slightly different reactions based on the character, but they're basically mutually exclusive. And so I wonder and then started writing how the story might go if there was more than one "Warden" in the story.
Let's see how it fares~ This story is also on FF.net. But as its 99.9% slash with sex scenes the full version will be here.

I don't know what impressed Wynne to give me such a thing. It's a diary. What do I want a diary for? "Write it down" she said as she hand me this leather bound book with blank pages. That was all, no more words or explanation. Does she mean what's happening right now, or what happened before?
Why? Why would I ever want to write about the destruction, the tragedy, my greatest failure, my deepest pain? I carry it now. And I won't ever forget…
Koln Cousland. That is my name. Or perhaps that is now a was. Is there anyone remaining who knew me by more than just a name? The people that loved and cared and worked and breathed and just live in the castle. Dead. Gone. Every single one of them. I don't believe I'm Koln Cousland anymore, no. Koln died with them all that night.
I was the second child, born to my father Teryn Bryce Cousland and my mother Eleanor. My parents were good people, fair and kind. I heard people wondering, growing up in Highever, why such respect and loyalty was given. Justice and Temperance, that's what people need. No, it's what they deserve. That's what my parents always said… What happened? Father and Fergus were to lead our soldiers to Ostagar while I remained behind to take care of Highever and the rest of the family. My warrior father and my battle maiden mother, gone.
Fergus, my older and only sibling. I guess we could be considered close for siblings, since we had the standard "I love you one moment and fight with you the next." But of course, we were the only ones who could pick on the other. I've pulled him out of brawls too numerous to remember and he stopped the teasing due to my hair. While my parents and brother were born with brown or black hair, I was born with stark white hair. I'm no different than anyone else besides that yet of course the other boys teased me, called me snow white after some old story. There's nothing special about me besides the hair, no. Not even that is special. I'm not special. I shouldn't have survived while all else died.
Oriana, my brother's wife. Oh how Fergus loved her! His beauty from Antiva was his pet name for her. She was different than the rest of us. I rather think we frightened her, or in the very least my mother confused her: her from a country were women are considered pure and delicate and now in a family where not only were the father and two sons were warriors, but the mother as well. But she fit in quickly and sent us for our own loops of confusion and exasperation. Like the day my nephew Oren was born. Oriana had been put on bed rest for the last few weeks of the pregnancy and couldn't stand lying around, so she snuck out for, of all things, a horseback ride. Being the only one left in the house I had to go after her with maids and servants scurrying behind.
As one might expect the ride had sent Oriana into labor and see was stuck out in the woods in labor. Luckily a maid caught up near the end and was the one to assist into Oren's arrival into the world, but since Fergus wasn't there I got to hold him first.
It's one the greatest wonders of the world to hold a newborn. To see them take their first breathes and cries. To announce if it's a boy or girl. To look into their eyes for the first time. Oren's eyes were open that night, when I found him. His cries are sometimes the loudest in my nightmares. He was a boy! Young, little, innocent! How could you kill him! How could you leave him dead on the floor like that, eyes dead to the world, blood spilled around him? He died while I lived! He and his mother died while I slept just across the hall!
Father had been talking with Arl Howe (murderous, traitorous, backstabbing, sly sneaky, blood spilling, life ending bastard!) when I arrived in response to a missive sent by one of the servants. "Sorry, Pup, I didn't see you there."
"I only just arrived, Father." Pup. Father had been calling me that for as long as I can remember. He told me he gave me the name after I waltzed right into the birthing pen of a mother mabari and her young pups to see if one would imprint on me. I gave both father and the hound master a heart attack since that is the most dangerous time to be around the fierce war dogs, but the mother paid me no mind. And that's how I came to have Neera, the only one left from my life.
"I trust you remember my son, Howe."
"Of course, it's been a while but he's quite hard to forget." He had smiled at the reference to my hair. How could he have smiled, how could he have acted like nothing was going to happen? "Delilah keeps asking after you, you remember my daughter? I should bring her next time…"
I remember finding that odd at the time. Delilah? I'd barely seen her after she was still in pigtails and only briefly at some of mother's salons. What interest would she have in me? Or, of course, it could have been either mother's or father's secret hint that I should be trying to find a wife. Who knows now… "If you two are trying to arrange a marriage…"
My discomfort must have been evident past the grin since both men laughed. "I told you this is what I deal with, Howe. My boy is too fierce to be told anything these days, but I still have the Maker bless his heart."
"You did well to have another boy to have such a temperament with such fighting skill." He meant my brother, of course. It was true that Fergus' fighting skill came from a fierce spirit, almost like a bear or mabari. I'm not sure if Arl caught the difference since Father always referred to me as "fiercely gentle". Even now I'm not sure what that means.
"Anyways, Pup, I brought you here to tell you that while Fergus and I are off fighting, I am leaving you in charge of the castle." I had figured this was what Father had planned. While most of the training had been given to Fergus as Highever would pass to him, I had not been neglected either. I knew what was involved in its running and care, but more attention had been given to my potential role as leader of our forces. Fergus joked that while he might rule, I would be his face, eyes, and ears in Highever.
I didn't want Father and Fergus to go. It wasn't the coming battle. It wasn't the fact that he would be fighting darkspawn monsters instead of fellow humans. It had been a feeling, crawling coolly up my spine. Had I…known? "I don't like it…but I will do my best, Father."
Father smiled knowingly. He knew that the warrior in me wanted to be fighting alongside them. "I know you will. Token forces will be left here just in case they're needed to keep the peace. Mice sometimes play when the cat is away, yes?" Dear Maker! Could father have known? "Ah, before I forget, I would like you to meet someone. Please, show Duncan in."
One of the servants opened a door and waved a man a bit younger than my father in, dressed to the tilt in grey armor and a sword. "Lordship! Y-you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present here…" I had caught the shake in Arl Howe's voice back then, but had thought it had been to being in a Warden's presence. After all, it wasn't every day that one of the legendary warriors walks into the room.
"He only arrived recently, albeit unannounced. Is there a problem, Howe?"
"Of course not just….certain protocol for guests of such statue…I'm at a disadvantage…" Sure, lie your way through, straight to our faces. You should be afraid of Duncan, Howe. You should be afraid of Grey Wardens, heroes of legends who stopped Blights and saved generations. But most of all is this, Arl How: you should be afraid of Duncan because, through him, I'm alive. If my only purpose for my survival is to track and kill Howe, I'll do it.
"Duncan is here looking for recruits before heading to Ostagar." Father had gone on to explain.
Ah, that wasn't much of a surprise then. "So you're here to see Ser Gilmore?" Roland was one of my closest friends, and sparring companion. He had been sent by his father to squire at Highever and had grown into one of our best knights. I had been so happy at the time! To think one of my friends would have the honor to be considered for the Grey Wardens!
"If I would be allowed to be bold, you would also be an excellent candidate, young Cousland." Me? Me! The very thought of being considered for the Wardens had made my heart race at the time.
And how fast my father had stepped in between me and Duncan (am…am I smiling at this memory?)! "Honor though this may be, this is my youngest son we're talking about, barely past 17. I've only two children and I will not gladly see all of them off to battle. Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription?" It made sense to me, and I understood. While he had used the logical reasons to keep me home, to care for Highever, he was human. He didn't want both his children in battle, with the chance of both of them dying…
Duncan had placated my father, saying that while they did need the recruits he would not force the issue. When he was certain that I wouldn't be taken away, Father had calmed down, smiling again. "Please make sure Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone? And if you could, Pup, find your brother and tell him that he'll have to lead the troops to Ostagar without me."
So I had gone to find my brother, with a little side adventure of fetching my mabari out of the larder with Ser Gilmore to calm Nan (and get to her stop picking so much at the elven servants who worked there). It was just like a very bad story, like Ser Gilmore pointed out, fighting giant rats. But at least Nan had been calmed down; I would do anything to make my old nanny happier. I don't know why, but in thanks she had told me one of my favorite stories, "The Dog who Bit". Had she known as well?
I moved on and found my mother, who had already grown worried that I had gotten it into my head that I wanted to be recruited for the Grey Wardens. While, yes, I had the idea, I knew that know was not the time for it. Mother… even though she was now turning grey and more likely to throw a salon than pick up a sword, she was still beautiful. She was still my battle maiden mother. "I love you, my darling littlest boy. You know that, don't you? Growing up so fast, now in charge of the castle…"
No, I can't write anymore. It's too painful. My Father. My Mother. My brother and sister-in-law and nephew. My castle and lands of people. They're all gone. They're all dead. I can't do this! I can't write this anymore!
…Perhaps… I should write them down. Write them down so their memory, their lives are recorded somewhere? Just in case…I don't survive enough to hold their memories in me…
Write it down… write through the pain…
"Will you bring me back a sward from war, Papa? Pretty pwease?" Oren was seven but still spoke with a sort of odd, yet endearing, lisp, along with mispronunciation of words. It was just too cute most of the time to try and change, but we were gently trying.
"Sword, Oren, sword." My old brother Fergus was laughing, crouching down to meet his only child eye to eye. "The biggest and mightiest one I can find! I'll be back before you know it!"
Oriana hadn't been so certain, disquiet as any worried wife would be. "Oh don't frighten the boy, love, I speak the truth! And here's my little brother to see me off. Dry your eyes and wish me well, love~"
"Wait, do you mean me or Oriana?" Had I been telling a joke back then? To lighten the mode? I could do such a thing?
But how Fergus had laughed! "I meant my wife, but I could give my baby brother a kiss as well!" He tried to grab my arms, making kissy lips all the while, and finally Oriana smiled.
"Don't worry, Oriana. No darkspawn could harm Fergus!"
She had rolled her eyes, hands up in surrender. "He's just as mortal as the next man, don't inflate his belief even more!" But even she could hide the grin that started, watching two brothers say goodbye simply by wrapping an arm around each other's shoulders.
"As much as I came to say goodbye, father sent me. He wants to take the men without him."
"So the Arl's men are late. What, are they walking backwards?" Fergus sighed. "Well, with that news and knowing there are so many darkspawn to behead in so little time, I should get underway."
"I had hoped my dear boy would plan to wait for us before you left!" Father joked as he and Mother came through the doorway to Fergus' room. Mother immediately held her eldest child's face in her hands, watching his eyes. "Every day, Fergus. I'll pray for your safety every day."
"Mother!" Fergus pretended to whine, but just to hide the fact that knowing that meant a lot. I rested a hand on Oren's head as Oriana prayed to the Maker, as Fergus jokingly added a request for ale and women, and as Father tried to explain to Oren what a wench was.
"I swear, I live in a pack of just small boys!" Mother quipped, to which I added, "But Mother, besides from Oriana, you do!" I ducked away from her glare, laughing.
"I'll miss you, Mother. And Koln will be sure to take care of you, won't you?"
"Of course~ But she can handle herself, always has~"
"That's for certain! I can see it, scolding those darkspawn right back into the Deep Roads!"
"I'm glad you two find this so funny!" But Mother hadn't been upset, not anymore. She was our mother, and she knew how Fergus and I could get when together. It was familiar and comforting to her.
"Enough, enough from all of you!" Father tried to roar but it only came out as a roar of laughter. "You have much to do tomorrow, Pup, so you'll want to get an early night."
"All right, all right. Want to see me and Neera off to bed, Oren?" There are goodbyes you say as a family, and then there are goodbyes that you say as husband and wife. I wanted Oriana and Fergus to have just a little time for that. To say goodbye…
"Sure!" His small hand slipped into mine. "Mama says you'll be watching over us while Papa is gone, Uncle. Does that mean you'll defend us if the castle is attacked? Will there be dragons! I want to see you fight one…"
"Fergus, this is your fault!" Oriana's voice floated after us, and I knew she would be smacking Fergus' arm.
Oren looked over his shoulder, until we were far enough away. "Will you teach me to use a sword, Uncle? Mama always yells at Papa when I ask him. I want to fight dire bunnies and darkspawn, like in the stories! Maybe even with a mabari like yours!" He rubbed behind Neera's ears. While she was my mabari, she knew that my family was my pack and to not hurt them. She whined happily and licked his cheek.
"If she ever pups, I promise you'll be the first person who gets to look at them~ As for the sword fighting, let's see if we can start sneaking lessons here and there. How's that?"
How big his eyes had gotten and how big his smile had become. "Really? Wow! Thanks Uncle Kol!" He hugged my leg before scampering off back to his room. He always forgot the N in my name. Maybe I should have let him sleep over in my room that night, or brought a pallet into room. Something, anything!
But no. It had been just me curled up on the bed and Neera resting on the floor. Sleeping through the beginning of the attack. Would I have slept through it all, slept through my door opening and a knife sliding into my throat. Neera was the one who saved me, her mabari ears picking up the noise. She did as any of her kind would do to protect their master, growling and barking at the door, not only to wake me up to try and scare off anyone on the other side of the door.
I can still see it, it keeps replaying and replaying right before my eyes. The servant's voice screaming in my ears, trying to find me or my father to alert us. "The castle is under attack!" How he stood, just for a moment relieved that he had found me, before arrows suddenly sprouted from his chest and he fell to the floor. Dead. Armed men standing behind, steering in triumph and demanding to know where my father was.
There hadn't been time to think of the how and why. Just instinct. Grab sword from the end of the bed, dodge arrows, parry, return attacks of my own. It wasn't until I stood over their bodies that I realized the awful truth. These were Howe's men!
"Darling! I heard fighting! Are you all right?" It was Mother's voice that drew me from the shock, her gloved hands sliding over my bare shoulders. In some other time it might have been comical, my mother armored to the hilt and me in nothing but my smallclothes. "Your arm!" There was apparently a cut on my arm, and only hurt when I acknowledged it. She tied a cloth around it before pushing me back to my room. "Get your armor on, I'll guard the door!"
"What's going on, Mother?" Neera guarded me as well, pacing anxiously about my feet as I frantically pulled everything on.
"I don't know! A scream woke me up and there were men in the hall, so I barred the door. Do you see their shields?"
"Yes, those are Howe's men." That same feeling, that some gnawing feeling of I should be realizing something… No! Like being plunged into an icy well it finally hit me. "He's betraying Father! He's attacking while the troops are gone!"
"No!" Mother's eyes widened, seeing the realization in my eyes and words. "You think that Howe's men were delayed…on purpose? Bastard, if he did this I'll cut this throat!" It was only then that her face paled. "Your father! He never came to bed!"
"I think he stayed up with…" I hadn't been able to say his name then, and I'm barely able to contain my rage saying it now. Mother was already turning to sprint downstairs when I stopped her. "Wait! Oriana and Oren!"
"Andraste's mercy! What if they went to your brother's room first?" We hoped and prayed that they hadn't.
But they had. Dead, just inside the doorway, dragged from their beds. I don't even know what wounds killed them. All I remember was falling to my knees and staring into little Oren's sightless eyes. Mother, shocked, her voice a distant muffle as she realized that Howe wasn't taking hostages. He was just killing everyone.
Running through rooms and hallways, slaying whoever tried to attack us. The roar of battle was everywhere inside the castle. Part of me screamed to defend the castle, defend my home and people no matter the cost. But another part of me knew that it everything was lost. Trying to find soldiers to rally and fight with us, discovering any survivors and directing them to the secret entrance in the larder. Retrieving the Cousland family sword so it could not fall into Howe's black hands (it's reserved for his neck, so I can sever his head). I ached to convince Ser Gilmore to come with us, but I knew him. He would, and he did, stay behind to hold the gates to give us time to escape. Told us where he thought Father had gone…
…where he lay in a pool of his blood. "There you are love, Pup. You're both…alive." Father, the first time I remember him pale and weak. Struggling to talk, struggling to live. Someone get a healer, no!, we have no healer! Nothing, no one! He wouldn't even survive standing up! He words urging at least one of us to go, escape, find Fergus and tell him what happened washed over me. No! I would stay and fight! Defend my parents!
"There is nothing you can do, Pup. The castle is surrounded…I cannot make it." His cold fingers smeared blood as he touched my cheek, trying to smile, trying to stop the tears from my eyes.
"The teryn is correct." I nearly took Duncan head off as I whirled around, thinking it was another of Howe's soldiers. He sheathed is sword, covered in blood, looking just as Mother and I must have: having fought tooth and nail to get here. "They haven't discovered this entrance, but it will still be difficult getting past. We tried to fight to you sooner, Ladyship."
"Koln protected me, Maker's praise!" No, no, no! Don't praise me Mother! I protected you for a little while! Then all I did was leave you to die with Father! Cradling Father's head in her lap, controlling her emotions much better than I.
"There is no…ob..ligation Duncan but…" Stop Father. Save your strength, keep yourself from coughing up blood. "I beg you…get my wife and son out of here…!"
"I will, Lordship. But there is something I must ask in return. What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil no loose in the world." I wanted to smash Duncan's face in at the time, and I don't know what stopped me from doing it. I understand now what he meant, but then, I did not. "I came to Highever to find a recruit, and the darkspawn threat demands I leave with one."
"I…" The fall, the crush on Father's face. But to the understanding, the letting go. "I understand."
All I could manage to choke out in protest was "Me?" Fight Koln, fight them! Stay! Protect!
Duncan voice had been gentle, trying to soothe, trying to make me understand. "You fought through dozens of Howe's men to get here. I think the Maker's intention is clear." He turned back to my Father. "I will take the terrine and your son to Ostagar to tell Fergus what happened. Then, Koln will join the Grey Wardens."
Father's fading eyes locked with mine. "So long as justice comes to Howe…I agree."
I promise Father. I swear it. I'll kill him myself. I think Duncan offered me a place in the Wardens, and Mother full of uncertainty. "Our son will not die my Howe's treachery… You will live, Koln. And make your mark on the world."
"I…I love you both. So much…" Why! Why of all the things I could have said, all the resistance I could have used to stay with them to protect them?
Father and Mother. Left alone. Only having each other. Saying their goodbyes as Duncan dragged me away. Gates cracking, men roaring. A last whispered goodbye as I left them, where they would die.
Where I died as well.

From the observations of Duncan
So Highever has fallen. Darkspawn I can predict, or at the very least feel some sort of warning. Men can never be predicted. One man betraying the other for power, or as I suspect in revenge for some event the Howe's thought they suffered by the Coastlands generations past.
I've managed not only to pull out, but bring along a strong candidate with me. Koln, the youngest Cousland child. I came under the pretense of observing Ser Gilmore (I admit he too was a potential recruit but nowhere near as strong) when in fact I had come for Koln himself. There is something in this white haired swordsman, this boy just barely standing on the line of manhood…
"We will be taking a wide arch to Ostagar, instead of a direct route. I believe there is another potential recruit in Denerim, and then something alarming that we must check on in the Brecilian Forest before going to the Korcari Wilds." I explained to the boy as we fitted two horses we had managed to find some distance from Highever.
He only nodded, the smallest movement of the head. He has not said a word since we escaped, and his violet eyes are dull and distant. He does what I say without question, but goes about almost mechanically. He eats little and I fear he is getting no sleep. While I am almost certain Koln will survive the Joining, I am beginning to fear that he will not survive himself.

Koln's white hair is not quite a "gary stu" move but more of an observation of some of the reactions I noticed during the human noble playthrough. A lot of people recognize the human noble right off the bat (Arl Eamon, at least three nobles in Denerim) which really surprised me. They're the second child, with their father/older brother in positions much higher than them…do you know what I mean? I understand his being very recognizable in Highever but a lot less so outside of their lands, especially with people who have probably seen them only a few times (think like Loghain, whose only seen your Warden once and yet still recognizes them after what turns out to be a year).
So I figured that one of the three wardens I'm writing would need to have something highly recognizeable, and came down to my human noble/main warden (since the others would be recognized simply by race, dwarf/elf, or class like mage) and went for white hair instead of a scar/tattoo.
I'll stop rambling for now~ I'll hope you keep reading and enjoying!
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Three Shards of Fate