Olivier Cousland's page

Olivier's first thought is that he did such a damn fine job he can still hear Iona's cries of joy echoing throughout Castle Cousland.

Then he sits up in the bed, looking around, ears trained on the silence before he hears the scream again and what sounds look doors slamming open.

"Iona!" he hisses, shaking the elven handmaiden in case she hasn't stirred. "Did you hear? Something is wrong, very wrong..."

Worried and trying to keep any panic from rising, he slides out of bed, throws on his trousers, and grabs his quiver and longbow. With an index finger, he pries the curtains aside, looking out into the courtyard.

Fergus knows Olivier's active dissent against King Cailan's thus far passive reign, but the young nobleman does not press the point. Politics cannot ruin the moment. He offers to stay up a while longer and share some wine and talk with Fergus before he goes, but if the brother would rather spend the time with his family, Olivier nods in understanding and is ready to depart. "As Kaiden says, we will care for your fortune until your return. May the Maker guide you home to us."

When he and Kaiden leave, Olivier stops in the hallway. "Kaiden, I know that you would rather be in Ostagar than here. And I can understand why. But...with Fergus leaving us, and Gilmore, and so many others we know, I'm glad you'll be here. In the morning, why don't you meet me for breakfast?"

Whether Kaiden agrees or not, Olivier heads down the halls to his own quarters, but stops short near the guest quarters. He looks at the door, and then continues on. When he gets ready for bed, he leaves his door unlocked.

Lingering only long enough to see her response, he turns on his booted heels and catches up with Kaiden. When they enter Fergus' chambers and he is there saying goodbye to his own family, it occurs to Olivier that this might be the last time he sees Fergus alive. But no sooner does the thought strike him that he tries to push it away, burying it beneath the lightness of his being. "Fergus."

He moves forward, first with his arm outstretched to take Fergus by the forearm, and if his brother obliges Olivier hugs him. Armor and all.

Lady Landra allows Olivier to kiss her hand, smiling rogueishly. "You are too kind dear boy. Didn't I spend the entire time, last we met at the spring salon, shamelessly flirting with you?"

"And it is now as it was then: a lady of your standing has a truer companion in beauty than in shame."

"It is a great honor, my lords. I have heard many wonderful things about you both. Lord Kaidan so strong and gallant, Lord Olivier so debonair and full of wit."

Olivier basks in the warm glow of the elfmaid's interest, even for once looking past Dairren's handsome silhouette at her figure. But it would be importune to continue to fondle her with his eyes, or to make any overtures here, so he turns his attention to Dairren. His voice is marked with the kind of boyish affection he's always held somewhere for Lady Landra's son. "Mind your feet, Dairren, lest your boots be traded for greaves. Every able-bodied young man around here is being snatched up for the army. Except, of course, my younger sibling who for eagerness alone would supplant a platoon. And yours truly."

He turns then to his mother, the joviality of the greeting overshadowed by the circumstances they all face. For all his jesting, the very real danger for his family cannot be ignored. "Someone must remain behind to keep our dear mother company. And to keep the petitioners happy."

When they arrive before their mother, Olivier embraces his mother and presses his lips to her cheek, and then offers his open palm to Lady Landra so that he may do the same to her hand. [b]"So good to see you in Castle Cousland again, my lady. How was your travel?"

Lord Dairren gets a nod, but the elven handmaid gets a bit more. While Kaiden thanks her for her service, Olivier is busy trying to meet her eyes and see if she has that spirit to defy the servant's trappings and look back at him, instead of always away, somewhere else...

"It isn't trivial. I'm simply drawing a parallel. The darkspawn is our current plight, but we haven't seem them in any significant force in almost four hundred years. Mages in the Circle, elves in the alienage, the poor in the streets of Denerim? Their plight doesn't happen every four hundred years or so. It's every day. Every day they are denied basic freedoms becasue of fear, prejudice, indifference-"

"There you both are" he says, coming to a halt in front of them. "I've been looking for both of you, but I heard the teyrn had summoned you, so I didn't want to interrupt. Your mother is calling for both of you. She's in the atrium, or was when she called me over to find you both. Most likely she's still entertaining lady Landra and her son."

Olivier clasps his hands together. "Gil! Let's just leave for a week. Get out on the town. Are you worried you'll maybe be called to Ostagar?" He follows along in the direction of the atrium, the importance of mother's calling not lost on him.

"Lucky is not the word I would use. Going to war with the Darkspawn for a king who lets his wife run the country and doesn't live up to all the promises and the expectations of a more gracious crown? Don't get me wrong, Kaiden, Fergus is brave...and has no choice...but still, he's putting his life on the line for more of the same. It's not a fight for change, it's a fight for the status quo."

Olivier is careful, however, about how his lips flap as he walks with his brother, maybe editing his conversation depending upon whom they pass.

"Father turned down Duncan because he cares. Just remember that. You're still young. You have a life to enjoy. Of course, he may also be thinking of the family's image, to have one of our own pledging himself to the Wardens. But I cannot speak for father's motivations. Only live by them."

He puts a hand on Kaiden's shoulder, a gesture he has often extended in moments of brotherly care laced with an air of noble superciliousness. "Have you even been with a girl yet? How can you be thinking of spilling blood on the battlefield? Please, do not be so eager to throw your life away."

"You are probably thrilled you don't have to go into battle aren't you?'

He rubs a gloved hand over his mustache. "Well, I wouldn't be thrilled to be told to polish my parade armor and get in formation, if that's what you mean..."

"I hear we are going to face darkspawn father. I can hardly wait to put my skills to the test against a REAL opponent."

Olivier's smile closes and becomes more demure. He looks the other way and breathes through his nose, knowing the rebuke his brother has coming.

"About that. While your brother and I are both away, I am leaving you two in charge of the castle. Only a token force is remaining and you must keep peace within the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"

"You can trust me, Father. I can keep the peace here in Highever and look after mother."

He knows he hasn't been the model son, but this was his moment to prove himself to the family and earn his place. And how difficult could it be, listening to the griping and b#+**ing of the locals and telling the most upright and moralistic that they need to remove the stick from their arse and quietly championing his libertine bretheren?

When Duncan is introduced, Olivier's eyebrows rise in surprise. "A real Grey Warden? Here in Ferelden? My my, Lord Duncan, but this is a surprise! I have done quite a bit of reading about the Wardens and I never thought we'd ever see you again in this country after...well..."

He evades the faux pas. "Where there are darkspawn, there are Wardens, I suppose."

Olivier looks perplexed when Duncan says something about him making a great Warden. "But I've never even seen a Darkspawn, let alone have the training to slay one."

"Do I ever have something to add. Grey Warden is just the sort of challenge I've been waiting for father. And this one sees that I am skilled enough to be one. It's a great idea. Oh, I know a great compromise. I go with the Grey Warden, and Oliver stays and housesits. Does that sound fair?"

"Dear Kaiden is as diplomatic and astute as ever. Some of us are suited to lead and others have different pursuits," the nobleman shrugs with an easy-going smile.

When their father issues his command, Olivier nods, backs from the room, bows to all present, and then waits for Kaiden to exit with him before closing the doors behind them.