Work Text:
She was four when she first saw her father and his retinue on horseback, or so the story went, and escaping from her nurse’s clutches she dashed forward, oblivious to the terrified shrieks of the ladies, to fearlessly wrap her chubby arms around the foreleg of her father’s charger. By all accounts, she had clung to him giggling delightedly, and the warhorse had been surprisingly gentle with her.
She was six when she had begged her father for a pony of her own, and he had promised her she might have one when she was nine, for though he had title and lands, the holdings of Bann Trevelyan were sea and woodland - scarcely a fitting place for a child to learn to ride.
She was eight-and-a-half when the Templars came, good, kindly men and the pretty, young knight-captain with her solemn smile, and she went away with them to the peaceful Ostwick Circle. There was no need for horses there.
Bonus:
Kaltaine looked askance at the horse standing by the gate.
“What’s the matter, Kitten?” Varric asked, quirking an eyebrow at her wide-eyed gaze.
“I’ve never ridden before.” She admitted.
“Never?” Cassandra asked in astonishment. “But you’re a nobleman’s daughter! Surely you learned before you went to the circle!”
Kaltaine shrugged expressively. “The lands of the Trevelyans are forest or rocky coast, not particularly well suited to riding. I’ve known how to care for a ship and her crew longer than I can remember. My father did promise that I might have a horse and riding lessons for my ninth birthday, but then the Templars came, and I went to the circle. There was no need to know how to ride there, and so here I am.”
“We’ll teach you.” Cassandra said with a hint of a smile, “But for now, we must press on.”
Not long after they returned to Haven, Cassandra ordered her off to the stables where she was met, not by the Master of Horse as she had expected, but by the Commander, blushing like a school boy. When, after an arduous, but useful hour, she slid gracelessly from her horse’s back and straight into the Commander’s arms, she decided she probably owed Cassandra a gift of some sort.