Tales From Thedas: Dragon Age One Shots

Recalcitrant Ravyne

Ravyne Couseland. Youngest child of the Highever Couseland's.

Beautiful, stubborn and the most skilled rogue tracker in all of Thedas, at least I think so she smirked to herself. But without her father's indulgence and her mother's understanding, she would never had received the best training her noble heritage could afford. And for that, she was grateful.

She knew her appearance was breathtaking to most people, though she herself had never given it much thought. She preferred stories of adventure and exploring forests over music, sewing and tea like other young ladies. She also didn't fancy any of the nobles or eligible sons her mother continued to parade before her.

She frowned at herself in the mirror. Why was she even stewing about this? It wasn't as though her parents were lining up suitors or even looking to marry her off. In fact, her parents had made it clear that though they desired a marriage and grandchildren, they would much prefer to see her happy than living a life which brought her no joy.

Then what? I demanded of my reflection, glaring into the angry honey-brown eyes staring back at me. I snorted, brushing a strand of dark auburn hair from my brow in frustration.

I knew why. Those twittering, simpering maidens from last night's banquet. Laughing at me from behind their lace fans and silk gloves. Pitying me and gossiping about how my parents had raised two sons rather than one.

Maker! Just because I didn't long for a ring on my finger or my belly swollen with child, didn't mean I was any less a woman.

But how could I be expected to fall for any man when every one I'd ever laid eyes on had softer hands than my own? What was so desirous of a man who wanted for nothing, worked for nothing and never did anything but manipulate and outmaneuver his rivals for more land or power?

I wished I could meet a real man. Someone with more personality than a dish rag, someone who not only could wield a sword but did so for more than personal gain. Even a sense of humour would be a welcome change from the stuffy, entitled jokes I was forced to endure when introduced to yet another nobleman.

Enough Rave, I scolded myself. Why do you care what those simpering fools think?

I was prevented from answering my own question when a loud knock came at the door. Flames, my mabari, growled low in his throat at the sound, his ears flicking toward the door.

"Enter." I called, stepping away from my reflection and fixing my face into what I hoped was a neutral expression.

"I knew I'd find you here." My brother Fergus crowed, stepping into my room.

"And why exactly were you looking for me Fergus? Come to tell me cook is upset with Flames again?"

"Maker Rave, I've never understood why you named him Flames."

"Simple brother." I smirked, my lip curling in a smile. "Whenever I call him, no one ever knows if I'm calling my dog or cursing at someone."

"Personally I always thought you did it just to scare away potential suitors."

I frowned at him. The comment came too close to what I'd just been thinking and I didn't find it the least bit amusing.

"Maybe I did. What of it?"

"Calm yourself sister. I was only joking. I just thought it fitting and that it would make you smile."

"Well it doesn't." I retorted, wishing I'd kept my mouth shut.

"Are you kidding?" Fergus raised his eyebrows at me in surprise. "You're not really still upset about what happened at the banquet are you?"

"Of course not."