@Lupus, you made my morning ))))
Wow, 200!!!
Modifié par Galagraphia, 26 novembre 2010 - 02:18 .
Anders: he didn't do it, but HE WILL! (DAO spoilers, may contain DAII spoiles)
Débuté par
Galagraphia
, juin 03 2010 07:04
#4976
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:13
Galagraphia
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@Miri, doctors failed with my friend, it was too early and her organism apparently wasn't ready. She's taking it well, though.
@Lupus, you made my morning ))))
Wow, 200!!!
@Lupus, you made my morning ))))
Wow, 200!!!
Retour en haut
#4977
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:18
Miri1984
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WE MADE IT!
This is set just after Awakenings.
~~~
"Maker! Help me! Please, there everywhere! Oh please, please help!"
"Don't panic!" Anders called back. "We're trying to find you!"
"She probably can't hear you," Nathaniel said. "The wind's blowing in the wrong direction."
"Well, excuse me for trying to give some comfort to a lady who is obviously in need," Anders said. Nathaniel snorted.
"We haven't tried that ridge yet," he said, pointing. Anders and Nathaniel had been trying to locate the source of the voice for the past half an hour. She was obviously in a lot of distress, but she did seem to be safe for the moment.
As safe as someone can be when they're surrounded by darkspawn.
It was definitely a woman, definitely in trouble, definitely up high but the Wending Wood wasn't known for it's clearly marked, easy to follow paths.
"We should split up," Nathaniel said. "We'll find her faster that way."
"Are you crazy?" Anders said. "There are at least ten darkspawn creeping about here."
"All the more reason why we need to find her quickly."
Anders rolled his eyes, but he could see the logic. "Fine," he said. "You go that way, then." He picked a direction at random and Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "The Commander didn't specify which of us was in charge here, did she?" Anders said. Nathaniel sighed. "Just go will you?" The rogue slipped away and Anders breathed a sigh of relief. He really could be insufferable sometimes.
Anders went in a different direction, approaching the ridge from the other side. The woman's screams weren't getting any more desperate, which he took for a good sign, and they were still just as lusty as they had been when they'd first heard them. A strong, vibrant voice that had him trying to imagine what she looked like. It was a pleasant way to occupy his mind as he climbed through dirt and scrub.
At the top of the ridge he could see the problem. A figure was perched on top of a ruined column - the old Tevinter ruins were dotted everywhere in the woods. She must have been very agile to get up there in the first place - the column looked pretty smooth and lacking in hand holds from where he was standing. He smiled to himself. Agility was a plus.
The darkspawn were prowling around the bottom of the pillar, barking at each other. They didn't have an emissary with them which explained why they hadn't just knocked her off the pillar with magic, and the necessity of taking her alive meant they hadn't yet tried to shoot her down. The wind was strong, though. Even if they didn't mind killing her there was a good chance no archer could get a decent shot.
No archer except for one, of course. The first darkspawn fell with an arrow through its throat and Anders suddenly realised if he wanted to impress.... no, save the woman he was going to have to start doing something of his own as well.
Area effect spells were no good - they'd hit the woman as well. Pity, as they were without a doubt the most impressive. But when it got down to it, what could be more impressive than him?
He waded into the fray, activating elemental chaos and wielding his staff like a club. Nathaniel may be able to pick enemies off at a distance, silently, but nothing beat a good magical display.
When the darkspawn lay in crumpled, singed and frozen heaps Nathaniel came out from cover and they both stood at the bottom of the pillar. The woman, who was wearing a white dress and had long, red hair, had stopped screaming but she was now upset for another reason.
"I can't get down!" she cried out.
Anders glanced at Nathaniel. Who was examining the pillar for handholds. "I could climb up there," Nate said. "But what good would it do? I can't carry her back down again, not without both of us falling."
Anders chewed his lip. "If she jumps...."
"We can't catch her," Nate said, rolling his eyes. "The pillar's too high, her weight would crush us."
"Not if I magic her," Anders said. "A simple telekenisis spell should work. Stand aside, Ser Howe..."
He cocked an eyebrow. "I'll catch her," Nate said. "You concentrate on the magic. It would be tragic if you lost concentration during the spell and.."
Anders pouted at the man, but conceded his point. Convincing the woman that she should jump was difficult, but Nate was always so reasonable sounding that eventually, voice trembling delightfully, she agreed it was her only option.
Her dress floated revealingly around her on the way down. Anders would not be the red-blooded man he was if he didn't take the opportunity to peek at what was underneath. Very nice indeed, he thought to himself as she settled softly in Nate's arms.
Nate gently set her on her feet and she sighed. "Thank you so much!" She said, eyelashes fluttering prettily over sapphire eyes and a delicate blush suffusing her pale skin.
"Don't mention it," Nathaniel said, already looking over his shoulder and away from her. Bloody idiot, Anders thought to himself, before stepping in front of him and grasping the lady's still trembling hand. He lowered his lips to her knuckles and flashed her his most charming smile.
"Don't worry, ma'am," Anders said, grinning and puffing out his chest. "We're Grey Wardens."
This is set just after Awakenings.
~~~
"Maker! Help me! Please, there everywhere! Oh please, please help!"
"Don't panic!" Anders called back. "We're trying to find you!"
"She probably can't hear you," Nathaniel said. "The wind's blowing in the wrong direction."
"Well, excuse me for trying to give some comfort to a lady who is obviously in need," Anders said. Nathaniel snorted.
"We haven't tried that ridge yet," he said, pointing. Anders and Nathaniel had been trying to locate the source of the voice for the past half an hour. She was obviously in a lot of distress, but she did seem to be safe for the moment.
As safe as someone can be when they're surrounded by darkspawn.
It was definitely a woman, definitely in trouble, definitely up high but the Wending Wood wasn't known for it's clearly marked, easy to follow paths.
"We should split up," Nathaniel said. "We'll find her faster that way."
"Are you crazy?" Anders said. "There are at least ten darkspawn creeping about here."
"All the more reason why we need to find her quickly."
Anders rolled his eyes, but he could see the logic. "Fine," he said. "You go that way, then." He picked a direction at random and Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "The Commander didn't specify which of us was in charge here, did she?" Anders said. Nathaniel sighed. "Just go will you?" The rogue slipped away and Anders breathed a sigh of relief. He really could be insufferable sometimes.
Anders went in a different direction, approaching the ridge from the other side. The woman's screams weren't getting any more desperate, which he took for a good sign, and they were still just as lusty as they had been when they'd first heard them. A strong, vibrant voice that had him trying to imagine what she looked like. It was a pleasant way to occupy his mind as he climbed through dirt and scrub.
At the top of the ridge he could see the problem. A figure was perched on top of a ruined column - the old Tevinter ruins were dotted everywhere in the woods. She must have been very agile to get up there in the first place - the column looked pretty smooth and lacking in hand holds from where he was standing. He smiled to himself. Agility was a plus.
The darkspawn were prowling around the bottom of the pillar, barking at each other. They didn't have an emissary with them which explained why they hadn't just knocked her off the pillar with magic, and the necessity of taking her alive meant they hadn't yet tried to shoot her down. The wind was strong, though. Even if they didn't mind killing her there was a good chance no archer could get a decent shot.
No archer except for one, of course. The first darkspawn fell with an arrow through its throat and Anders suddenly realised if he wanted to impress.... no, save the woman he was going to have to start doing something of his own as well.
Area effect spells were no good - they'd hit the woman as well. Pity, as they were without a doubt the most impressive. But when it got down to it, what could be more impressive than him?
He waded into the fray, activating elemental chaos and wielding his staff like a club. Nathaniel may be able to pick enemies off at a distance, silently, but nothing beat a good magical display.
When the darkspawn lay in crumpled, singed and frozen heaps Nathaniel came out from cover and they both stood at the bottom of the pillar. The woman, who was wearing a white dress and had long, red hair, had stopped screaming but she was now upset for another reason.
"I can't get down!" she cried out.
Anders glanced at Nathaniel. Who was examining the pillar for handholds. "I could climb up there," Nate said. "But what good would it do? I can't carry her back down again, not without both of us falling."
Anders chewed his lip. "If she jumps...."
"We can't catch her," Nate said, rolling his eyes. "The pillar's too high, her weight would crush us."
"Not if I magic her," Anders said. "A simple telekenisis spell should work. Stand aside, Ser Howe..."
He cocked an eyebrow. "I'll catch her," Nate said. "You concentrate on the magic. It would be tragic if you lost concentration during the spell and.."
Anders pouted at the man, but conceded his point. Convincing the woman that she should jump was difficult, but Nate was always so reasonable sounding that eventually, voice trembling delightfully, she agreed it was her only option.
Her dress floated revealingly around her on the way down. Anders would not be the red-blooded man he was if he didn't take the opportunity to peek at what was underneath. Very nice indeed, he thought to himself as she settled softly in Nate's arms.
Nate gently set her on her feet and she sighed. "Thank you so much!" She said, eyelashes fluttering prettily over sapphire eyes and a delicate blush suffusing her pale skin.
"Don't mention it," Nathaniel said, already looking over his shoulder and away from her. Bloody idiot, Anders thought to himself, before stepping in front of him and grasping the lady's still trembling hand. He lowered his lips to her knuckles and flashed her his most charming smile.
"Don't worry, ma'am," Anders said, grinning and puffing out his chest. "We're Grey Wardens."
Modifié par Miri1984, 26 novembre 2010 - 02:23 .
#4978
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:18
cave_fatuam
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@Lupus
“I hit it with lightning. Which, um, sort of set a book that was sitting on the table on fire. It kind of spread from there.”
I'm dying over here. XD
Edit for 200!:
My Grey Warden prompt one:
This is basically me plagarizing myself. XD I did a whole series of army/air force recruitment posters for one of my university classes. We picked a subject and an advertising technique out of hats. I got Armed Forces and Sex Appeal. ;3
And my 200 prompt:
"200 Years from Now"
Anders smirked at the bust inside a far too large crate.
"What manner of madness is this, Maeve?"
"A gift from Alistair. He said if you're to keep running off on your little jaunts it's best I have someone to smirk at me insufferably when you're gone. I think he just tires of my letters about missing seeing your face in the morning." She smiled sadly. He looked at her incredulously. "I do like it, Anders."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Remember when we went into those ruins last year and saw all those broken statues?" Anders nodded and pulled her to him.
"We made up stories for them while we waited for Nate to finish ridding the place of those bloody awful pop-up traps."
With a laugh, Anders asked,"You think someone will do that with me?"
Maeve reached out and ran a finger tentatively along the bust's cheek. "Two-hundred years from now, when someone sees this, what do you think they will say?"
"That's the most handsome bastard I ever saw."
"Hmmm... They won't say, 'Look! It's Anders, the Grey Warden. You can see that he was very attractive, but you must know that he was horribly charming and clever. He liked cats, turnips, and sad elven women, all with a disturbing passion. He moved like a rainstorm. He smelt like cold clean water. He-'"
Anders lifted her chin and looked down at her, an odd expression crossing over his features. "They'll know one thing." He plucked a nail from crate and scooped up the bust. Maeve winced as he scraped the metal spike against the stone for several minutes. "There. Done."
She wiped away the dust and read, "Anders, Grey Warden, whom Maeve loved far too much."
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, "Well?"
"That's all you want anyone to know of you?"
"Those are the only things that will be important two-hundred years from now." He smirked down at her. "Those are the only important things now, Mae."
"You know, I'd rather have you smirk at me insufferably than any silly hunk of stone." She slipped her arms around his middle and nuzzled his chest.
"I'd rather sit on your bed than your mantle though."
"I was going to put it on my desk, actually." Maeve gestured behind her without looking up.
"Mmm... Now that I can work with," he said with a low growl.
"Oh, Anders."
“I hit it with lightning. Which, um, sort of set a book that was sitting on the table on fire. It kind of spread from there.”
I'm dying over here. XD
Edit for 200!:
My Grey Warden prompt one:
This is basically me plagarizing myself. XD I did a whole series of army/air force recruitment posters for one of my university classes. We picked a subject and an advertising technique out of hats. I got Armed Forces and Sex Appeal. ;3
And my 200 prompt:
"200 Years from Now"
Anders smirked at the bust inside a far too large crate.
"What manner of madness is this, Maeve?"
"A gift from Alistair. He said if you're to keep running off on your little jaunts it's best I have someone to smirk at me insufferably when you're gone. I think he just tires of my letters about missing seeing your face in the morning." She smiled sadly. He looked at her incredulously. "I do like it, Anders."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Remember when we went into those ruins last year and saw all those broken statues?" Anders nodded and pulled her to him.
"We made up stories for them while we waited for Nate to finish ridding the place of those bloody awful pop-up traps."
With a laugh, Anders asked,"You think someone will do that with me?"
Maeve reached out and ran a finger tentatively along the bust's cheek. "Two-hundred years from now, when someone sees this, what do you think they will say?"
"That's the most handsome bastard I ever saw."
"Hmmm... They won't say, 'Look! It's Anders, the Grey Warden. You can see that he was very attractive, but you must know that he was horribly charming and clever. He liked cats, turnips, and sad elven women, all with a disturbing passion. He moved like a rainstorm. He smelt like cold clean water. He-'"
Anders lifted her chin and looked down at her, an odd expression crossing over his features. "They'll know one thing." He plucked a nail from crate and scooped up the bust. Maeve winced as he scraped the metal spike against the stone for several minutes. "There. Done."
She wiped away the dust and read, "Anders, Grey Warden, whom Maeve loved far too much."
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, "Well?"
"That's all you want anyone to know of you?"
"Those are the only things that will be important two-hundred years from now." He smirked down at her. "Those are the only important things now, Mae."
"You know, I'd rather have you smirk at me insufferably than any silly hunk of stone." She slipped her arms around his middle and nuzzled his chest.
"I'd rather sit on your bed than your mantle though."
"I was going to put it on my desk, actually." Maeve gestured behind her without looking up.
"Mmm... Now that I can work with," he said with a low growl.
"Oh, Anders."
Modifié par cave_fatuam, 26 novembre 2010 - 04:12 .
#4979
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:22
Avilia
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Happy 200th everyone!
-------------------------------
In war, victory.
"So. That's it?"
Lilibeth paused and half turned to see Anders still staring at the now dead Mother. "It?"
"Isn't there more? Does it just end now?" Surely there should be something else. Shouldn't there?
"More? What more could there be? She's dead, yes?"
"Yes. Very dead." There was something incredibly sad in this. This, abomination, had been human once. A human girl, perhaps someone's mother in truth, before the darkspawn had tainted her. Turned her into this corruption of what she'd been. "Poor soul."
"That 'poor soul' would have killed us."
"I know."
"Us and then every person in Ferelden, given half a chance."
"I know that Commander." It was still sad. "It wasn't her fault. The darkspawn did this to her and then that Architect, he woke her up. Can you imagine what it must be have been like? The horror of realising what she'd turned into? What they'd made her into? Its no wonder she went mad."
"You don't think your compassion might be misplaced?" Nate lifted his chin when Anders glared at him. "You're correct, this woman, whoever she was, was an unfortunate victim of the darkspawn. The darkspawn, not us. Yet it was us she attacked."
"I don't think she was capable of making that distinction. Would you be? Would anyone in her place?"
"Perhaps not."
Lilibeth was sympathetic but they had other, more urgent, things to attend to. "We need to go Anders, they need us at the Vigil."
"I'm coming." After a final look at the Mother, Anders turned to follow the others. "Maker keep her." Feeling a touch on his shoulder he nodded. "Thanks."
After another pat, Nate nodded. "It wasn't her fault, none of it, but its always the innocent who pay the heaviest price in war."
"Cheerful bastard aren't you Howe?" The support did make him feel a little better. "Thanks."
Nate nodded. It had taken him a while but he thought he understood Anders now. That soft heart was going to get him into trouble if he wasn't careful. Which he wasn't. "There'll be worse to come. Best prepare yourself Anders."
"They can't all be dead." Walking faster he caught up to Lilibeth. "If we hurry we might save some."
Lilibeth glanced back at Nate and Sigrun, who both shook their heads. No, she didn't expect any survivors either.
In peace, vigilance.
"What do Grey Wardens do when there's no darkspawn to fight?"
"We remain vigilant." Hearing himself say it, Anders had to smile. His smile widened when the young recruit sighed. "Doesn't that make you quiver with excitement? Remaining vigilant?"
"Not really ser."
"Imagine yourself." Walking back a few paces, he pointed up at the Vigil roof. "Up there. Poised on the edge of the walkway, vigilantly watching the Vigil's land."
"Er."
"No?"
"Your pardon but it sounds a little, boring." Cale had expected excitement when he'd joined, excitement and, well, women. Women liked Grey Wardens, he'd been assured of that. "What about fighting?"
"Ah. Fighting." Throwing a companionable arm across the young man's shoulders, Anders steered him down the path. "Not much fighting at the moment I'm afraid. Darkspawn all hiding themselves in the Deep Roads, bandits keeping themselves nice and you've just missed a small army of bad men chasing the former king."
"Missed it! Cursed luck."
"It does seem your luck is out. Still, vigilance isn't to be sneezed at. If we slacken off in our watching, we might be late for the next Blight. Can't have Grey Wardens late for a Blight. How would that look?"
Cale was fast coming to the conclusion that either Anders was drunk or slightly touched in the head. As it was quite early in the morning, he'd put his gold on touched. Odd that no one had mentioned it. Best humour him, in case he was dangerous. "Wouldn't look good."
"No, indeed it wouldn't. Picture it if you will, the Archdemon breaks its way free of the bowels of the Deep Roads, tens of thousands of darkspawn at its beck and call, moving determinedly across the land. Its only aim the utter and complete destruction of everything in its path. All across the land the call goes out for Grey Wardens. There's no answer because we weren't vigilant. Instead we were off drinking ale in taverns, pinching the bottoms of serving wenches and trying to remember what it was we were supposed to be doing."
"That would be bad."
"It would be!" Reaching his goal, Anders pulled Cale to a halt. "Commander! I say Commander!"
Nate paused in the middle of notching an arrow and glanced over. "Anders."
"Tell this young man what you're doing."
It seemed obvious to Cale what the Commander was doing, he was shooting arrows at targets.
"Remaining vigilant."
"See! We're all vigilant here. Vigilance is our watchword."
Perhaps they were all mad? "Yes ser."
In death, sacrifice.
"There should be a Blight. This would make more sense if there was a Blight." Anders ignored Nate's lifted eyebrow. "It would. This means nothing now."
"It always means nothing. We fight, we die. There's no deeper meaning."
"Maker Howe, you're gloomy today." He grinned when Nate lifted both eyebrows. "Alright, fine, I'm gloomy too. I just thought, it would mean more."
Giving in, Nate stopped walking and leaned on his bow. "What would you like it to mean?"
"I don't know. Something, big, significant. Something that will be remembered. Not just, me, dying, fighting darkspawn."
"You're a warden, Anders, its what we do. Die, fighting darkspawn."
"I know, I know. Still. One maiden to rescue, a noble quest to complete, I'd even settle for a treasure to find. This wandering about looking for a fight just seems a little, I don't know, pointless."
"The point is to die."
"Fine. Not pointless then." Bloody Howe and his literal mind. "Apart from dying, its pointless. I wonder what would happen if we refused to do it." Holding Nate's arm he shook him slightly. "We could do that, who's to know?"
"Maker's sake Anders. We have no choice. Would you prefer to end your life as a ghoul?"
"How do we know that's what will happen?"
Nate sighed gustily. Anders hadn't changed, he'd wondered if he might have. All those years hiding in Tevinter, running from the Chantry to keep his daughter safe. But no, it seemed even that couldn't change him. "You've had the dreams haven't you?"
"Pfft, dreams." One hand waved them away. "Little bits of this and that." That he woke screaming from. "Maybe one teeny tiny dragon."
"They'll get worse the longer we wait. Drive us mad."
"Some would say I'm already mad. Don't give me that look, I'm joking." He was ready for this, he'd didn't know why he was baulking now. "I don't like leaving Caeren alone."
"She won't be alone. Didn't you say she was about to have her third?" Finally the reason Anders was so reluctant to do what they both knew needed to be done.
"I should be there for that! What if something goes wrong?"
"Nothing will go wrong. From what you say she has the best care." Impatient to have it done, Nate pulled Anders along the tunnel. "Her husband will watch over her."
"She needs me."
"No she doesn't. We've run out of time Anders, we have to accept that." He'd left his life behind at the Vigil. Done his best to provide for them so they'd be safe. Now there was this. "All we can do is take as many darkspawn with us as possible."
"We could count! See who kills the most."
"A competition?"
"It'll be fun." All they had to do was find the cursed darkspawn. "Ah. Nate? What do we do if we can't find any darkspawn?"
"We'll find them."
-------------------------------
In war, victory.
"So. That's it?"
Lilibeth paused and half turned to see Anders still staring at the now dead Mother. "It?"
"Isn't there more? Does it just end now?" Surely there should be something else. Shouldn't there?
"More? What more could there be? She's dead, yes?"
"Yes. Very dead." There was something incredibly sad in this. This, abomination, had been human once. A human girl, perhaps someone's mother in truth, before the darkspawn had tainted her. Turned her into this corruption of what she'd been. "Poor soul."
"That 'poor soul' would have killed us."
"I know."
"Us and then every person in Ferelden, given half a chance."
"I know that Commander." It was still sad. "It wasn't her fault. The darkspawn did this to her and then that Architect, he woke her up. Can you imagine what it must be have been like? The horror of realising what she'd turned into? What they'd made her into? Its no wonder she went mad."
"You don't think your compassion might be misplaced?" Nate lifted his chin when Anders glared at him. "You're correct, this woman, whoever she was, was an unfortunate victim of the darkspawn. The darkspawn, not us. Yet it was us she attacked."
"I don't think she was capable of making that distinction. Would you be? Would anyone in her place?"
"Perhaps not."
Lilibeth was sympathetic but they had other, more urgent, things to attend to. "We need to go Anders, they need us at the Vigil."
"I'm coming." After a final look at the Mother, Anders turned to follow the others. "Maker keep her." Feeling a touch on his shoulder he nodded. "Thanks."
After another pat, Nate nodded. "It wasn't her fault, none of it, but its always the innocent who pay the heaviest price in war."
"Cheerful bastard aren't you Howe?" The support did make him feel a little better. "Thanks."
Nate nodded. It had taken him a while but he thought he understood Anders now. That soft heart was going to get him into trouble if he wasn't careful. Which he wasn't. "There'll be worse to come. Best prepare yourself Anders."
"They can't all be dead." Walking faster he caught up to Lilibeth. "If we hurry we might save some."
Lilibeth glanced back at Nate and Sigrun, who both shook their heads. No, she didn't expect any survivors either.
In peace, vigilance.
"What do Grey Wardens do when there's no darkspawn to fight?"
"We remain vigilant." Hearing himself say it, Anders had to smile. His smile widened when the young recruit sighed. "Doesn't that make you quiver with excitement? Remaining vigilant?"
"Not really ser."
"Imagine yourself." Walking back a few paces, he pointed up at the Vigil roof. "Up there. Poised on the edge of the walkway, vigilantly watching the Vigil's land."
"Er."
"No?"
"Your pardon but it sounds a little, boring." Cale had expected excitement when he'd joined, excitement and, well, women. Women liked Grey Wardens, he'd been assured of that. "What about fighting?"
"Ah. Fighting." Throwing a companionable arm across the young man's shoulders, Anders steered him down the path. "Not much fighting at the moment I'm afraid. Darkspawn all hiding themselves in the Deep Roads, bandits keeping themselves nice and you've just missed a small army of bad men chasing the former king."
"Missed it! Cursed luck."
"It does seem your luck is out. Still, vigilance isn't to be sneezed at. If we slacken off in our watching, we might be late for the next Blight. Can't have Grey Wardens late for a Blight. How would that look?"
Cale was fast coming to the conclusion that either Anders was drunk or slightly touched in the head. As it was quite early in the morning, he'd put his gold on touched. Odd that no one had mentioned it. Best humour him, in case he was dangerous. "Wouldn't look good."
"No, indeed it wouldn't. Picture it if you will, the Archdemon breaks its way free of the bowels of the Deep Roads, tens of thousands of darkspawn at its beck and call, moving determinedly across the land. Its only aim the utter and complete destruction of everything in its path. All across the land the call goes out for Grey Wardens. There's no answer because we weren't vigilant. Instead we were off drinking ale in taverns, pinching the bottoms of serving wenches and trying to remember what it was we were supposed to be doing."
"That would be bad."
"It would be!" Reaching his goal, Anders pulled Cale to a halt. "Commander! I say Commander!"
Nate paused in the middle of notching an arrow and glanced over. "Anders."
"Tell this young man what you're doing."
It seemed obvious to Cale what the Commander was doing, he was shooting arrows at targets.
"Remaining vigilant."
"See! We're all vigilant here. Vigilance is our watchword."
Perhaps they were all mad? "Yes ser."
In death, sacrifice.
"There should be a Blight. This would make more sense if there was a Blight." Anders ignored Nate's lifted eyebrow. "It would. This means nothing now."
"It always means nothing. We fight, we die. There's no deeper meaning."
"Maker Howe, you're gloomy today." He grinned when Nate lifted both eyebrows. "Alright, fine, I'm gloomy too. I just thought, it would mean more."
Giving in, Nate stopped walking and leaned on his bow. "What would you like it to mean?"
"I don't know. Something, big, significant. Something that will be remembered. Not just, me, dying, fighting darkspawn."
"You're a warden, Anders, its what we do. Die, fighting darkspawn."
"I know, I know. Still. One maiden to rescue, a noble quest to complete, I'd even settle for a treasure to find. This wandering about looking for a fight just seems a little, I don't know, pointless."
"The point is to die."
"Fine. Not pointless then." Bloody Howe and his literal mind. "Apart from dying, its pointless. I wonder what would happen if we refused to do it." Holding Nate's arm he shook him slightly. "We could do that, who's to know?"
"Maker's sake Anders. We have no choice. Would you prefer to end your life as a ghoul?"
"How do we know that's what will happen?"
Nate sighed gustily. Anders hadn't changed, he'd wondered if he might have. All those years hiding in Tevinter, running from the Chantry to keep his daughter safe. But no, it seemed even that couldn't change him. "You've had the dreams haven't you?"
"Pfft, dreams." One hand waved them away. "Little bits of this and that." That he woke screaming from. "Maybe one teeny tiny dragon."
"They'll get worse the longer we wait. Drive us mad."
"Some would say I'm already mad. Don't give me that look, I'm joking." He was ready for this, he'd didn't know why he was baulking now. "I don't like leaving Caeren alone."
"She won't be alone. Didn't you say she was about to have her third?" Finally the reason Anders was so reluctant to do what they both knew needed to be done.
"I should be there for that! What if something goes wrong?"
"Nothing will go wrong. From what you say she has the best care." Impatient to have it done, Nate pulled Anders along the tunnel. "Her husband will watch over her."
"She needs me."
"No she doesn't. We've run out of time Anders, we have to accept that." He'd left his life behind at the Vigil. Done his best to provide for them so they'd be safe. Now there was this. "All we can do is take as many darkspawn with us as possible."
"We could count! See who kills the most."
"A competition?"
"It'll be fun." All they had to do was find the cursed darkspawn. "Ah. Nate? What do we do if we can't find any darkspawn?"
"We'll find them."
Modifié par Avilia, 26 novembre 2010 - 03:09 .
#4980
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:28
Sarah1281
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Okay, I have two prompts and this is the first one:
The king looked over at Anders with an overly-eager expression. “So, what can you tell me about being a Grey Warden? You must have some great stories and invaluable insight into the nature of the darkspawn.”
Anders fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure about the details but after he’d been dragged back to the Circle Tower after his sixth escape attempt, he had found Duncan, Irving, and Greagoir waiting for him. Duncan had introduced himself and Irving had practically thrown Anders at the Grey Warden. Greagoir hadn’t looked pleased at what was happening but Irving said something about how he would be somebody else’s problem now and Greagoir seemed to accept that. So within twenty minutes of stepping off the boat, Anders was back on it and heading for Ostagar to become a Grey Warden and fight darkspawn.
It wasn’t what he had expected, but at least he hadn’t had to go back to the Tower and now never would have to again. Unfortunately, shortly after his Joining he and Alistair had walked by Cailan and Teyrn Loghain’s strategy session. Cailan had immediately lost interest in the planning – not that he appeared to have had much to begin with – and started pestering the pair with all sorts of questions. Loghain had frowned at Alistair and quickly dragged him away, leaving Anders to deal with Cailan’s bizarre fascination with the Grey Wardens.
“You realize that I’ve been a Warden for about three hours now, right?” Anders asked him.
Cailan nodded. “I had heard something like that from Duncan when I walked by him setting up a funeral pyre for the bodies of those other two recruits.”
That gave Anders pause. He had been under the impression that the Joining was a secret. That had been part of Duncan’s justification for killing what’s-his-name, after all. “Wait…you know that the other two died?”
Cailan looked mildly affronted. “Of course I do! Even if I hadn’t seen Duncan getting rid of them, I surely would have noticed when one the three Warden recruits became just one Warden.”
“And you don’t think that that is at all unusual?” Anders pressed.
Cailan shook his head. “Not particularly. I know that the Joining has a high mortality rate.”
Anders choked. “You…You know about that as well?”
Cailan laughed. “Oh, who doesn’t? My father – King Maric the savior, you know – once went on a glorious adventure with the Grey Wardens back when he first allowed them back into the country twenty years ago and it’s always been a very popular tale.”
“So…your father learned all sorts of Grey Warden secrets when he went on some mysterious adventure with them and now he goes around telling everyone?” Anders couldn’t believe it. What’s-his-name had died to protect a secret that had already been told? It was a good thing that Anders had never liked what’s-his-name and his typical fear of mages or else he might actually be upset by this turn of events.
“Well, he did,” Cailan corrected, looking sad for a moment. “He’s dead now, of course.”
“But…why?” Anders asked, dumbfounded.
Cailan shrugged. “Why not? It’s a very thrilling story, you know, and Loghain likes it because it reminds everybody of how evil the Orlesians can be and also how badass he is – though he won’t admit to that last part. I like it because of that hot elven mage in it. Other people like it because the talking darkspawn was really interesting or because it showed just how far my father would go to protect his people.”
Anders still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around this. “And the Grey Wardens don’t care that your father tells everyone their most deeply-held secrets to amuse them?”
“Well, if they do care then it’s not like they ever did anything to try and deter him from doing so so I’m sure they don’t mind that much,” Cailan reasoned. “But enough about that. Tell me about your thrilling adventures! I heard you went into the Korcari Wilds earlier.”
“That was before I became a Warden, though,” Anders pointed out.
“Close enough,” Cailan said dismissively. “You were a Warden recruit, after all.”
“Well…we went into the Wilds,” Anders began. “We killed a bunch of darkspawn and some wolves. We looked for some ancient treaties but they were gone. This really hot mage told us that her distinctly less hot mage mother had them and they gave it back to us and then the hot mage accompanied us out of the Wilds.”
“Treaties?” Cailan perked up. “Oh, this sounds good. What kind of treaties?”
Anders shrugged. “I wasn’t really listening. Something about how after the last Blight the mages, Dalish, and dwarves agreed to help out in case a new Blight came and so they signed treaties to that effect. Duncan thinks that over the past four centuries, their goodwill may have died down just a little and so we may need to actually use the treaties should the need for non-Ferelden allies arise. Of course, I’m not sure that the Chantry would even allow the mages to help with the treaty, let alone without it…”
Cailan’s eyes were shining. “Oh, you just leave the Chantry to me. The Grey Wardens will get their mage allies, I promise you that! Just think…I’ll get to go into battle with not only the Grey Wardens and have an epic war like in the tales but I’ll get to have the dwarves, Dalish, and mages by my side as well! Maker, it will be like the fourth Blight all over again!”
“And…that’s a good thing?” Anders asked uncertainly. From what he had remembered from the history lessons he never paid attention to, the fourth Blight was kind of awful and nobody should want to go through something like that.
Cailan wasn’t listening, though. “Oh, I’ve got to find Loghain and tell him all about these treaties! He should be as glad to hear of it as I am since it would mean we wouldn’t need to rely so much on the Orlesians…”
The king looked over at Anders with an overly-eager expression. “So, what can you tell me about being a Grey Warden? You must have some great stories and invaluable insight into the nature of the darkspawn.”
Anders fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure about the details but after he’d been dragged back to the Circle Tower after his sixth escape attempt, he had found Duncan, Irving, and Greagoir waiting for him. Duncan had introduced himself and Irving had practically thrown Anders at the Grey Warden. Greagoir hadn’t looked pleased at what was happening but Irving said something about how he would be somebody else’s problem now and Greagoir seemed to accept that. So within twenty minutes of stepping off the boat, Anders was back on it and heading for Ostagar to become a Grey Warden and fight darkspawn.
It wasn’t what he had expected, but at least he hadn’t had to go back to the Tower and now never would have to again. Unfortunately, shortly after his Joining he and Alistair had walked by Cailan and Teyrn Loghain’s strategy session. Cailan had immediately lost interest in the planning – not that he appeared to have had much to begin with – and started pestering the pair with all sorts of questions. Loghain had frowned at Alistair and quickly dragged him away, leaving Anders to deal with Cailan’s bizarre fascination with the Grey Wardens.
“You realize that I’ve been a Warden for about three hours now, right?” Anders asked him.
Cailan nodded. “I had heard something like that from Duncan when I walked by him setting up a funeral pyre for the bodies of those other two recruits.”
That gave Anders pause. He had been under the impression that the Joining was a secret. That had been part of Duncan’s justification for killing what’s-his-name, after all. “Wait…you know that the other two died?”
Cailan looked mildly affronted. “Of course I do! Even if I hadn’t seen Duncan getting rid of them, I surely would have noticed when one the three Warden recruits became just one Warden.”
“And you don’t think that that is at all unusual?” Anders pressed.
Cailan shook his head. “Not particularly. I know that the Joining has a high mortality rate.”
Anders choked. “You…You know about that as well?”
Cailan laughed. “Oh, who doesn’t? My father – King Maric the savior, you know – once went on a glorious adventure with the Grey Wardens back when he first allowed them back into the country twenty years ago and it’s always been a very popular tale.”
“So…your father learned all sorts of Grey Warden secrets when he went on some mysterious adventure with them and now he goes around telling everyone?” Anders couldn’t believe it. What’s-his-name had died to protect a secret that had already been told? It was a good thing that Anders had never liked what’s-his-name and his typical fear of mages or else he might actually be upset by this turn of events.
“Well, he did,” Cailan corrected, looking sad for a moment. “He’s dead now, of course.”
“But…why?” Anders asked, dumbfounded.
Cailan shrugged. “Why not? It’s a very thrilling story, you know, and Loghain likes it because it reminds everybody of how evil the Orlesians can be and also how badass he is – though he won’t admit to that last part. I like it because of that hot elven mage in it. Other people like it because the talking darkspawn was really interesting or because it showed just how far my father would go to protect his people.”
Anders still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around this. “And the Grey Wardens don’t care that your father tells everyone their most deeply-held secrets to amuse them?”
“Well, if they do care then it’s not like they ever did anything to try and deter him from doing so so I’m sure they don’t mind that much,” Cailan reasoned. “But enough about that. Tell me about your thrilling adventures! I heard you went into the Korcari Wilds earlier.”
“That was before I became a Warden, though,” Anders pointed out.
“Close enough,” Cailan said dismissively. “You were a Warden recruit, after all.”
“Well…we went into the Wilds,” Anders began. “We killed a bunch of darkspawn and some wolves. We looked for some ancient treaties but they were gone. This really hot mage told us that her distinctly less hot mage mother had them and they gave it back to us and then the hot mage accompanied us out of the Wilds.”
“Treaties?” Cailan perked up. “Oh, this sounds good. What kind of treaties?”
Anders shrugged. “I wasn’t really listening. Something about how after the last Blight the mages, Dalish, and dwarves agreed to help out in case a new Blight came and so they signed treaties to that effect. Duncan thinks that over the past four centuries, their goodwill may have died down just a little and so we may need to actually use the treaties should the need for non-Ferelden allies arise. Of course, I’m not sure that the Chantry would even allow the mages to help with the treaty, let alone without it…”
Cailan’s eyes were shining. “Oh, you just leave the Chantry to me. The Grey Wardens will get their mage allies, I promise you that! Just think…I’ll get to go into battle with not only the Grey Wardens and have an epic war like in the tales but I’ll get to have the dwarves, Dalish, and mages by my side as well! Maker, it will be like the fourth Blight all over again!”
“And…that’s a good thing?” Anders asked uncertainly. From what he had remembered from the history lessons he never paid attention to, the fourth Blight was kind of awful and nobody should want to go through something like that.
Cailan wasn’t listening, though. “Oh, I’ve got to find Loghain and tell him all about these treaties! He should be as glad to hear of it as I am since it would mean we wouldn’t need to rely so much on the Orlesians…”
#4981
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:28
LupusYondergirl
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Page 200!!!!
Woo!!
Here's my fic! And more "art"
Grey Warden
Well this is an unexpected turn of events, Anders thought to himself as he was torn between watching the retreating form of Ser Rylock and watching the woman who had just saved him from her making faces at the Templar’s back and… yes, yes she was doing a little dance as well. Oh good. If you have to be conscripted into a fanatical military order it’s really best your commanding officer is a complete lunatic. Keeps things fun.
“Me, a Grey Warden?” he blurted out. Not that he didn’t appreciate her, well, whatever it was she just did. The king made an obviously-sarcastic comment about wondering if she had anything to say- and really, were kings allowed to be sarcastic? Didn’t they have to be serious and official and… kingly? But, the black-haired woman responded with something very official and final sounding, and the Templar was forced to back down. “Well, I guess that would work,” Anders had said when he realized with a shudder that he’d somehow managed to end up conscripted into the Grey Wardens, hoping he didn’t sound ungrateful.
It didn’t work.
The Warden Commander had been beaming, clearly very pleased with herself. His words brought her smile crashing down. She recovered quickly, but for a moment Anders felt like he had kicked a puppy. Or, in this case, a pretty girl in a very short skirt. Really, that was far worse than kicking a puppy.
Anders chewed on his nail, watching the king’s entourage disappear down the road. “Cut it out,” the dwarf said, smacking his arm down. “You’re covered in darkspawn blood, genius,” he added when Anders gave him a quizzical look.
“Oh…”
“Yeah,” the man replied, shaking his head. “I thought all you mages were supposed to be smart?”
“I’m having an off day,” Anders said drily.
So worried about whatever was going to happen to him now, Anders had somehow forgotten: darkspawn blood was poison. Contact could result in incurable disease. Even worse, it resulted in a disease where the only kind option was to kill the infected before they became a ghoul and ran off to join the darkspawn. Lovely.
He tried to join in the conversation as their small group walked back towards the building. Apparently the redheaded dwarf, who stunk of ale from yards away, would be joining. Not exactly the first person Anders would pick to recruit, but he’d gathered that the man was a good friend of the commander and one of the heroes of the blight. That probably would be enough to skip anyone past the “how many of me are you seeing right now” and “do your hands shake before you have your breakfast ale” portion of the entrance exam. The young woman in armor was a knight, also volunteering. When she had told him his response was “well good luck with that.”
Ah, irony.
Feeling like he had jumped from the Circle’s frying pan into some ‘spend the rest of your life covered in blood and guts until you meet a painful untimely end’ Grey Warden fire, he watched the other recruits head in. Evidently the commander wanted to speak with him alone. Anders made a joke, giving her one of his best grins. Even if he didn’t want to join her crazy suicidal order, and even if watching her slice into her own hand in the middle of battle before a cloud of blood-tinged magic surrounded her had chilled him to the bone… well, that was no reason they couldn’t still be friends. Ideally the kind of friends who saw each other naked. She had been all in favor of the idea when they met in the Circle years ago, after all. If only he’d known it at the time, since she didn’t seem to remember him now.
Shaking his head, Anders tried to clear his thoughts. He should force himself to keep his mind on the present.
“I’m giving you an out,” she said. Mouth open in surprise, he listened as she told him he could leave, walk away. Not only that, she’d tell people he had died.
He could be free.
He winced when he realized why. It was because she had simply assumed he would just run away and humiliate her in front of her superiors. Well, given his reputation it wasn’t exactly an unfounded worry. He probably would.
She then proceeded to do everything possible to convince him being a Grey Warden was, somehow, a great deal of fun. Her speech switched between vague yet grim warnings and near-pleas for him to stay. He half expected her to actually drop to her knees and beg, judging by the look of desperation in her eyes. His imagination briefly filled in that picture, which led to him thinking of… other things. Maker’s breath, he admonished himself. Get your mind out of the gutter. Focus! This could change the rest of your life. He directed his attention to a point beyond her shoulder, ignoring green eyes and short, tight mage robes.
Why am I still here? Anders thought, listening to her answer his questions about blood magic with an elaborate justification. She said I could go. Why am I still here?
He tried to forget the sound of darkspawn in the distance, the screams of everyone they killed as they moved towards his cell. The monstrous teeth, the smell of rot that followed them, and their dead vacant eyes haunted his memory.
Exhaustion pulled at him. Their small group had fought through the night, clearing the building of darkspawn despite their far superior numbers. Before that he had been dragged across half the arling by the Templars, beaten and exhausted; the culmination of three years spent on the run. Sometimes living well, most of the time not. Sleeping in the woods, even in the rain and snow. Starving. In constant fear of capture. This could be… what…? A job? A life? Even if every mage in Thedas was freed tomorrow he would still need some way to support himself. No one would pay him just to be handsome and charming. Well, not that he’d found so far, at least.
“Let’s say I decide to stay,” he found himself saying, glancing at the splashes of darkspawn blood still covering his robes. She beamed at him.
***
Anders looked into the glass. Well, no, glass wasn’t quite accurate. This was a goblet, an ostentatious, ornate goblet. Of course, any creepy ceremony involving drinks and ancient oaths and secretive orders wouldn’t use a simple glass, it would have to be something crusted with jewels.
Although he did have to admit, it was rather nice. Are those rubies? Anders thought briefly, glancing over it in an attempt to avoid thinking about what was in it.
Briefly, the idea of dropping the glass (goblet) and bolting crossed his mind.
The first recruit to drink had been the dwarf. Since she found him in the middle of a circle of darkspawn sliced in half by his massive axe the two had been speaking in the way of people who were very familiar with each other, all half sentences and facial expressions and vague references to past events. Anders had seen a drawing once of the entire group she traveled with during the blight: who hadn’t, with the way they were celebrated all over Ferelden. The dwarf wasn’t as clean looking in real life.
The young woman in armor would evidently be going after him. She was grinning broadly, clearly excited beyond words. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Anders thought, glancing at her and then the commander, if all the girls look like these two I could even get to like this place.
She had tried to warn him, true, but it wasn’t until she looked at the prone dwarf and sighed in relief, muttering “he’ll live” that Anders realized just how bad the potential outcome was.
All this to join an order that fought darkspawn… when there wouldn’t be a real darkspawn threat again until long after all of them were dead and forgotten. A blight just ended. Hundreds of years pass between them, even he knew that. Sure, there were darkspawn around now, but they were probably just… leftovers of the blight. In a few years everything would be back to normal. It seemed almost pointless to take a risk like this.
But, something told him she wouldn’t just let him walk out, not now that he knew what the Grey Wardens obviously went to lengths to keep secret.
This all flashed through his mind in a split-second, after accepting the goblet. “So, that’s it?” he said, trying to sound light. “We have to drink this?”
“That’s it,” she nodded. “All Wardens have to.” Of course. She had explained that, in great horrifying detail, once they were inside. Being able to sense darkspawn, immunity to their poisonous blood… all for the price of one goblet of filth.
“Well, all right,” he said, continuing to stall. Anders fully expected her to jump in at any moment and laugh, saying ‘just kidding! Who would drink darkspawn blood? That’s crazy!’ at any moment. The dwarf was probably in on the joke. That’s what people do in this sort of situation, right? Stupid jokes at the expense of the new guy. But no, she was watching him with those bright green eyes and a worried expression, lower lip caught between her teeth. “If I wake up on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes I’ll be very angry,” he joked. Not even a hint of a smile. The woman next to him sighed in annoyance.
She did seem to be awfully content with her lot in life, though. Anders couldn’t help but notice that. She was from the Circle and evidently hated it as much as he did, if her ‘they’d have to drag my corpse through the doors to get me back’ comment was any indication, but was obviously happy here. Granted, she also shouted ‘hooray’ after every skirmish, so she was clearly a little unbalanced, but he had to have faith that an order as ancient and respected as the Grey Wardens wouldn’t put a complete maniac in charge. Maybe that was just a… quirk. Like the dancing. Or that slightly vacant glazed-eye look she had, the same one he’d seen on the face of one too many fanatical templar, when she talked about the Grey Wardens. But she was the leader of the order, she would have to be the most devoted. It was only natural.
And really, at this point he didn’t have much of a choice. She might have let him go before, but even if he had, they would have caught up to him again. They always did.
Better than letting the templars hang me, Anders sighed, closing his eyes and choking the foul smelling concoction down.
His first thought was that he had managed to stumble on to the most unpleasant tasting beverage in Thedas.
His second thought was that he had no idea a drink could make him feel like someone had slammed a dagger into his skull and mashed it around.
And after that was when Anders came face to face with the most horrifying thing he had ever seen in his life. Darkspawn, thousands, tens of thousands, millions, numbers beyond counting: stretching out further than he could see. Somehow he knew, just knew, that this wasn’t a dream. He was seeing something real, something happening right now, somewhere under the ground. So many, he shuddered. There looked to be more here than the whole population of Ferelden.
None of them seemed to notice him; they were all completely focused on their task. After a moment he realized they were digging. Some part of his mind remained coherent enough to understand what they were looking for. But… the blight just ended… he thought, panic flooding his veins. They’re looking already? How could they be looking so quickly!?
One, larger than the others, turned and stared at him. With a guttural growl it raised a hand, drawing it across his neck. When the others turned to see what had caught their leader’s attention, Anders begin to flail out, trying to run as thousands of pairs of those dead darkspawn eyes looked at him.
Sucking in a deep breath, Anders allowed his eyes to open a crack as he exhaled. The ceiling of the Keep greeted him, carved wooden beams arching across stone and plaster. With a groan he sat up, rubbing his head.
“Welcome, brother.” Looking towards the sound, he saw the commander kneeling on the ground not far from his feet. She briefly grinned at him, quite obviously relieved.
“Bad dreams,” was all he could say in response.
She nodded sympathetically. “That’s normal.”
He glanced around. The idealistic girl was gone. “Where’s…” Anders suddenly realized he didn’t even know her name, and felt horrible for it.
“She didn’t make it,” the commander said, sounding sad. She handed him some kind of amulet, glass with a drop of sludge at the bottom. Anders was barely able to pay attention as she began rattling off orders. Thankfully none were directed at him. Something about bedrooms, baths, Senior Wardens, food… his head spun. She turned to leave, Anders shuffled after her. The dwarf, he noticed, did the same. He had a look of numb fear on his face.
Something tells me I don’t look much different, Anders thought.
Following her through the halls he could only think one thing. They’re already searching. Ice in his veins, he realized they would never stop looking. Not as long as any remained alive.
“How can you eat?” he asked as they left the larder, watching her shove what looked like an entire loaf of bread in her mouth.
“Hungry,” she muttered, spraying crumbs and giggling at herself. Swallowing she went on. “And I didn’t just drink a chalice of darkspawn blood.” She had a point there.
The commander went on to tell him something about increased appetites. He didn’t know how true that was, but if she continued to pack the food away like that it would probably be a month before she weighed more than the rest of the Wardens… combined. “I think this one is mine,” she said, peeking into an open door. After a vague warning about nightmares, she told them to decide who got which room and disappeared, yawning.
“You saw them, too,” the dwarf said to him once she had left. He didn’t have to explain what he was talking about.
“Yes,” Anders nodded. “They were…” he shook his head, still horrified.
“Looking for one of them old gods,” the dwarf completed grimly. “I used to wonder, back during the blight, why she and Alistair would scream in their sleep. I think I’m starting to get it.”
“Bloody horrifying,” Anders said. “I’ll admit; I didn’t much see the point in risking our lives to join, not before. Now, though…”
A nod, red beard twitching. “My people, we always took the darkspawn seriously.” He paused. “I’m no surface dwarf. Well, I guess am now, but I wasn’t always. Not until I joined up with her. I’ve been going on expeditions against them in the deep roads since I was old enough to hold an axe. Outside Orzammar, though… no one else cares. No one but the Wardens.”
Anders shrugged. “We… it isn’t something people here think about. I mean, during the blight everyone did, of course. Before that, though… I don’t think I ever heard them mentioned outside history class.”
The dwarf regarded him carefully. “You don’t live with them up here like they do in Orzammar. Easy to forget they’re out there.”
“But they are,” Anders said quietly. He was starting to realize why it might be worth the risk to make more Grey Wardens, blight or no.
“I guess that’s why they still need Wardens,” he mused, apparently having similar thoughts. “So someone up here remembers, passes on what to do. Since now we know that one day…”
“Right,” Anders said, sighing. That was what scared him. People had believed for years that the blights were over. Eventually they would believe it again. Now he knew differently. With his own eyes he saw them looking, preparing for the next one. That wasn’t the last blight. Someday, there would be another. “How do you think she can live with it? Knowing? I feel like I could scream. It feels like we should go do something.” He wrung his hands together anxiously.
“But what?” he said. Anders sighed, he had a point. The three of them, currently the entirety of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, couldn’t exactly take on that many darkspawn and expect to live more than thirty seconds into the fight. “Don’t let her fool you, either. She’s gotten real good at putting on a brave face. Watch the bottom lip. When she starts chewing on it you know she’s worried about something.” He paused, but clearly had more on his mind. Anders waited. “Don’t let all the laughing and cheering and dancing around worry you,” the dwarf said quietly. “I thought she was a bit touched when I met her, too.” That statement was punctuated by a tap of his fingertip against the side of his head. “Fought side by side for two years with her, though. I don’t think you could find a more loyal friend anywhere. Heck of a warrior for a girl in a dress, too. You could do a lot worse for a boss, believe me.” He shrugged. “I always figured it was a mage thing, that tower just made all of you a little… whimsical.”
“I didn’t live there as long as she did,” Anders said by way of explanation. It was a relief to know she wasn't completely insane, though.
The two of them picked their rooms- both were identical so it didn’t take long to decide. Turning back to the dwarf he searched his fractured memory of the last day. “Goodnight, Oghren,” he offered once the name was recovered.
“Night, Sparklefingers,” he grunted in response. I’m just going to assume that’s a friendly jibe and not an insult, Anders thought, too tired to reply.
He was sitting up drenched in sweat not even an hour after crawling into bed. Although he hoped to get a nice rest after his capture and the horrors of the previous day, that didn’t seem possible. Instead of a nice dirty dream, ideally featuring his new commanding officer, Anders was treated to more visions of darkspawn. Shaking slightly, he lay back down and curled his arm around one of the pillows. The rest of the night wasn’t much better. The fourth time he woke Anders pulled himself from bed and walked over to the window.
Second floor, he thought automatically, pushing the window open. No bars. On a hill, but the drop off is far enough away it wouldn’t be an issue. Survivable fall. Shivering in the nighttime chill, Anders closed and latched the window, reminding himself that if he wanted to leave he could just use the door.
It was nearly a full moon. Smoke rose from the chimneys of scattered houses in the woods and in the distance he could see the light reflected off the Amaranthine Ocean, only distinguishable from the darkened night sky by the spread of stars. He had to admit, it was beautiful. Without knowing why, he began to imagine the trees burning, the land blackened and corrupted, even the very fish in the ocean dead and rotting, floating on the surface of polluted water. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again. The peaceful scene had returned to normal.
Turning his back from the window, Anders sat on his bed.
What have I done? he thought as he put his face in his hands, pushing his sweat-damp hair back. He tried to feel the corruption in his blood, but every diagnostic spell he knew turned up nothing. It was there, though. The nightmares were proof enough. Even if he left tomorrow… this would just follow him. Whatever that poison did to him, there was no getting out of it.
Shivering, he ducked under the blankets, lying back and staring at the ceiling. A memory of his childhood in Gwaren suddenly came back to him. One of the boys had found out what the Grey Wardens were, probably overhearing a bit of gossip, and running through the streets with sticks for swords fighting imaginary darkspawn soon became the hobby of choice among the village children. “I’m a Grey Warden!” he had told his mother. She looked down at him and smiled, which meant it must have been just after the order was allowed to return to Ferelden, when he was eight or so. Not much later and she would have had to look up to speak with him. Of course he was, she had said, since where else would he belong if not among the bravest warriors in Thedas? He had to grin, wondering what she would say if he told her that now. Somehow Anders suspected her response wouldn’t be much different. It was certainly more impressive than his life's previous accomplishments thus far, which amounted to setting a record for number of escapes and setting a record for number of times caught in the library after hours with a girl.
Not that waking up repeatedly in a cold sweat was making him feel particularly brave.
But he could fake it. And who knows, maybe eventually he would be able to block out the nightmares.
Maybe I can actually do this, he mused as his eyes drifted closed once more.
Anders woke to the sun in his face. Sitting up, he tried to remember details from his nightmares and found they were already slipping away. Probably for the best, he thought, realizing he really didn’t want to focus on the apocalyptic visions that had plagued his dreams.
Grimacing as he pulled on the bloody robes from yesterday, Anders hoped someone in this building could give him something clean to wear. Opening the door, he saw that wouldn’t be necessary. Someone had found his belongings the Templars who captured him confiscated. Changing into clean robes from his battered old pack, Anders read the two notes that had been slipped under his door while he slept.
The first, from the housekeeper, said she didn’t know whose pack it was, but as the only male mage in residence she guessed him, and if not she hoped the robes would be of use. He snickered to see it addressed ‘Ser Mage.’ The second was a request to find someone named Maggie in her study. Who was Maggie? She was a woman with exceptionally bad handwriting, that much was clear, and someone important enough to have a study, of all things, but beyond that his mind was blank.
Important enough to have a study… well, that answered that. Shaking his head, Anders laughed. He’d forgotten her name from the Circle days, and was so flustered at having been caught seconds after setting several templars on fire that when she introduced herself yesterday it was almost immediately out of mind. Evidently his boss was named Maggie. Not “Grey Warden Margaret” as he now remembered the papers referring to her, not Warden Commander, not even Ser, just Maggie. Although it seemed slightly bizarre to him, given how serious and formal the ceremony was last night, Anders took it as a good sign. He wasn’t sure how long he would last if they expected templar-like discipline out of everyone.
I can do this, Anders told himself, trying to push aside his fear at spending the rest of his life fighting. Taking a few deep breaths he squared his shoulders and went to find her, as ready to start his new life as he would ever be.
Woo!!
Here's my fic! And more "art"
Grey Warden
Well this is an unexpected turn of events, Anders thought to himself as he was torn between watching the retreating form of Ser Rylock and watching the woman who had just saved him from her making faces at the Templar’s back and… yes, yes she was doing a little dance as well. Oh good. If you have to be conscripted into a fanatical military order it’s really best your commanding officer is a complete lunatic. Keeps things fun.
“Me, a Grey Warden?” he blurted out. Not that he didn’t appreciate her, well, whatever it was she just did. The king made an obviously-sarcastic comment about wondering if she had anything to say- and really, were kings allowed to be sarcastic? Didn’t they have to be serious and official and… kingly? But, the black-haired woman responded with something very official and final sounding, and the Templar was forced to back down. “Well, I guess that would work,” Anders had said when he realized with a shudder that he’d somehow managed to end up conscripted into the Grey Wardens, hoping he didn’t sound ungrateful.
It didn’t work.
The Warden Commander had been beaming, clearly very pleased with herself. His words brought her smile crashing down. She recovered quickly, but for a moment Anders felt like he had kicked a puppy. Or, in this case, a pretty girl in a very short skirt. Really, that was far worse than kicking a puppy.
Anders chewed on his nail, watching the king’s entourage disappear down the road. “Cut it out,” the dwarf said, smacking his arm down. “You’re covered in darkspawn blood, genius,” he added when Anders gave him a quizzical look.
“Oh…”
“Yeah,” the man replied, shaking his head. “I thought all you mages were supposed to be smart?”
“I’m having an off day,” Anders said drily.
So worried about whatever was going to happen to him now, Anders had somehow forgotten: darkspawn blood was poison. Contact could result in incurable disease. Even worse, it resulted in a disease where the only kind option was to kill the infected before they became a ghoul and ran off to join the darkspawn. Lovely.
He tried to join in the conversation as their small group walked back towards the building. Apparently the redheaded dwarf, who stunk of ale from yards away, would be joining. Not exactly the first person Anders would pick to recruit, but he’d gathered that the man was a good friend of the commander and one of the heroes of the blight. That probably would be enough to skip anyone past the “how many of me are you seeing right now” and “do your hands shake before you have your breakfast ale” portion of the entrance exam. The young woman in armor was a knight, also volunteering. When she had told him his response was “well good luck with that.”
Ah, irony.
Feeling like he had jumped from the Circle’s frying pan into some ‘spend the rest of your life covered in blood and guts until you meet a painful untimely end’ Grey Warden fire, he watched the other recruits head in. Evidently the commander wanted to speak with him alone. Anders made a joke, giving her one of his best grins. Even if he didn’t want to join her crazy suicidal order, and even if watching her slice into her own hand in the middle of battle before a cloud of blood-tinged magic surrounded her had chilled him to the bone… well, that was no reason they couldn’t still be friends. Ideally the kind of friends who saw each other naked. She had been all in favor of the idea when they met in the Circle years ago, after all. If only he’d known it at the time, since she didn’t seem to remember him now.
Shaking his head, Anders tried to clear his thoughts. He should force himself to keep his mind on the present.
“I’m giving you an out,” she said. Mouth open in surprise, he listened as she told him he could leave, walk away. Not only that, she’d tell people he had died.
He could be free.
He winced when he realized why. It was because she had simply assumed he would just run away and humiliate her in front of her superiors. Well, given his reputation it wasn’t exactly an unfounded worry. He probably would.
She then proceeded to do everything possible to convince him being a Grey Warden was, somehow, a great deal of fun. Her speech switched between vague yet grim warnings and near-pleas for him to stay. He half expected her to actually drop to her knees and beg, judging by the look of desperation in her eyes. His imagination briefly filled in that picture, which led to him thinking of… other things. Maker’s breath, he admonished himself. Get your mind out of the gutter. Focus! This could change the rest of your life. He directed his attention to a point beyond her shoulder, ignoring green eyes and short, tight mage robes.
Why am I still here? Anders thought, listening to her answer his questions about blood magic with an elaborate justification. She said I could go. Why am I still here?
He tried to forget the sound of darkspawn in the distance, the screams of everyone they killed as they moved towards his cell. The monstrous teeth, the smell of rot that followed them, and their dead vacant eyes haunted his memory.
Exhaustion pulled at him. Their small group had fought through the night, clearing the building of darkspawn despite their far superior numbers. Before that he had been dragged across half the arling by the Templars, beaten and exhausted; the culmination of three years spent on the run. Sometimes living well, most of the time not. Sleeping in the woods, even in the rain and snow. Starving. In constant fear of capture. This could be… what…? A job? A life? Even if every mage in Thedas was freed tomorrow he would still need some way to support himself. No one would pay him just to be handsome and charming. Well, not that he’d found so far, at least.
“Let’s say I decide to stay,” he found himself saying, glancing at the splashes of darkspawn blood still covering his robes. She beamed at him.
***
Anders looked into the glass. Well, no, glass wasn’t quite accurate. This was a goblet, an ostentatious, ornate goblet. Of course, any creepy ceremony involving drinks and ancient oaths and secretive orders wouldn’t use a simple glass, it would have to be something crusted with jewels.
Although he did have to admit, it was rather nice. Are those rubies? Anders thought briefly, glancing over it in an attempt to avoid thinking about what was in it.
Briefly, the idea of dropping the glass (goblet) and bolting crossed his mind.
The first recruit to drink had been the dwarf. Since she found him in the middle of a circle of darkspawn sliced in half by his massive axe the two had been speaking in the way of people who were very familiar with each other, all half sentences and facial expressions and vague references to past events. Anders had seen a drawing once of the entire group she traveled with during the blight: who hadn’t, with the way they were celebrated all over Ferelden. The dwarf wasn’t as clean looking in real life.
The young woman in armor would evidently be going after him. She was grinning broadly, clearly excited beyond words. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Anders thought, glancing at her and then the commander, if all the girls look like these two I could even get to like this place.
She had tried to warn him, true, but it wasn’t until she looked at the prone dwarf and sighed in relief, muttering “he’ll live” that Anders realized just how bad the potential outcome was.
All this to join an order that fought darkspawn… when there wouldn’t be a real darkspawn threat again until long after all of them were dead and forgotten. A blight just ended. Hundreds of years pass between them, even he knew that. Sure, there were darkspawn around now, but they were probably just… leftovers of the blight. In a few years everything would be back to normal. It seemed almost pointless to take a risk like this.
But, something told him she wouldn’t just let him walk out, not now that he knew what the Grey Wardens obviously went to lengths to keep secret.
This all flashed through his mind in a split-second, after accepting the goblet. “So, that’s it?” he said, trying to sound light. “We have to drink this?”
“That’s it,” she nodded. “All Wardens have to.” Of course. She had explained that, in great horrifying detail, once they were inside. Being able to sense darkspawn, immunity to their poisonous blood… all for the price of one goblet of filth.
“Well, all right,” he said, continuing to stall. Anders fully expected her to jump in at any moment and laugh, saying ‘just kidding! Who would drink darkspawn blood? That’s crazy!’ at any moment. The dwarf was probably in on the joke. That’s what people do in this sort of situation, right? Stupid jokes at the expense of the new guy. But no, she was watching him with those bright green eyes and a worried expression, lower lip caught between her teeth. “If I wake up on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes I’ll be very angry,” he joked. Not even a hint of a smile. The woman next to him sighed in annoyance.
She did seem to be awfully content with her lot in life, though. Anders couldn’t help but notice that. She was from the Circle and evidently hated it as much as he did, if her ‘they’d have to drag my corpse through the doors to get me back’ comment was any indication, but was obviously happy here. Granted, she also shouted ‘hooray’ after every skirmish, so she was clearly a little unbalanced, but he had to have faith that an order as ancient and respected as the Grey Wardens wouldn’t put a complete maniac in charge. Maybe that was just a… quirk. Like the dancing. Or that slightly vacant glazed-eye look she had, the same one he’d seen on the face of one too many fanatical templar, when she talked about the Grey Wardens. But she was the leader of the order, she would have to be the most devoted. It was only natural.
And really, at this point he didn’t have much of a choice. She might have let him go before, but even if he had, they would have caught up to him again. They always did.
Better than letting the templars hang me, Anders sighed, closing his eyes and choking the foul smelling concoction down.
His first thought was that he had managed to stumble on to the most unpleasant tasting beverage in Thedas.
His second thought was that he had no idea a drink could make him feel like someone had slammed a dagger into his skull and mashed it around.
And after that was when Anders came face to face with the most horrifying thing he had ever seen in his life. Darkspawn, thousands, tens of thousands, millions, numbers beyond counting: stretching out further than he could see. Somehow he knew, just knew, that this wasn’t a dream. He was seeing something real, something happening right now, somewhere under the ground. So many, he shuddered. There looked to be more here than the whole population of Ferelden.
None of them seemed to notice him; they were all completely focused on their task. After a moment he realized they were digging. Some part of his mind remained coherent enough to understand what they were looking for. But… the blight just ended… he thought, panic flooding his veins. They’re looking already? How could they be looking so quickly!?
One, larger than the others, turned and stared at him. With a guttural growl it raised a hand, drawing it across his neck. When the others turned to see what had caught their leader’s attention, Anders begin to flail out, trying to run as thousands of pairs of those dead darkspawn eyes looked at him.
Sucking in a deep breath, Anders allowed his eyes to open a crack as he exhaled. The ceiling of the Keep greeted him, carved wooden beams arching across stone and plaster. With a groan he sat up, rubbing his head.
“Welcome, brother.” Looking towards the sound, he saw the commander kneeling on the ground not far from his feet. She briefly grinned at him, quite obviously relieved.
“Bad dreams,” was all he could say in response.
She nodded sympathetically. “That’s normal.”
He glanced around. The idealistic girl was gone. “Where’s…” Anders suddenly realized he didn’t even know her name, and felt horrible for it.
“She didn’t make it,” the commander said, sounding sad. She handed him some kind of amulet, glass with a drop of sludge at the bottom. Anders was barely able to pay attention as she began rattling off orders. Thankfully none were directed at him. Something about bedrooms, baths, Senior Wardens, food… his head spun. She turned to leave, Anders shuffled after her. The dwarf, he noticed, did the same. He had a look of numb fear on his face.
Something tells me I don’t look much different, Anders thought.
Following her through the halls he could only think one thing. They’re already searching. Ice in his veins, he realized they would never stop looking. Not as long as any remained alive.
“How can you eat?” he asked as they left the larder, watching her shove what looked like an entire loaf of bread in her mouth.
“Hungry,” she muttered, spraying crumbs and giggling at herself. Swallowing she went on. “And I didn’t just drink a chalice of darkspawn blood.” She had a point there.
The commander went on to tell him something about increased appetites. He didn’t know how true that was, but if she continued to pack the food away like that it would probably be a month before she weighed more than the rest of the Wardens… combined. “I think this one is mine,” she said, peeking into an open door. After a vague warning about nightmares, she told them to decide who got which room and disappeared, yawning.
“You saw them, too,” the dwarf said to him once she had left. He didn’t have to explain what he was talking about.
“Yes,” Anders nodded. “They were…” he shook his head, still horrified.
“Looking for one of them old gods,” the dwarf completed grimly. “I used to wonder, back during the blight, why she and Alistair would scream in their sleep. I think I’m starting to get it.”
“Bloody horrifying,” Anders said. “I’ll admit; I didn’t much see the point in risking our lives to join, not before. Now, though…”
A nod, red beard twitching. “My people, we always took the darkspawn seriously.” He paused. “I’m no surface dwarf. Well, I guess am now, but I wasn’t always. Not until I joined up with her. I’ve been going on expeditions against them in the deep roads since I was old enough to hold an axe. Outside Orzammar, though… no one else cares. No one but the Wardens.”
Anders shrugged. “We… it isn’t something people here think about. I mean, during the blight everyone did, of course. Before that, though… I don’t think I ever heard them mentioned outside history class.”
The dwarf regarded him carefully. “You don’t live with them up here like they do in Orzammar. Easy to forget they’re out there.”
“But they are,” Anders said quietly. He was starting to realize why it might be worth the risk to make more Grey Wardens, blight or no.
“I guess that’s why they still need Wardens,” he mused, apparently having similar thoughts. “So someone up here remembers, passes on what to do. Since now we know that one day…”
“Right,” Anders said, sighing. That was what scared him. People had believed for years that the blights were over. Eventually they would believe it again. Now he knew differently. With his own eyes he saw them looking, preparing for the next one. That wasn’t the last blight. Someday, there would be another. “How do you think she can live with it? Knowing? I feel like I could scream. It feels like we should go do something.” He wrung his hands together anxiously.
“But what?” he said. Anders sighed, he had a point. The three of them, currently the entirety of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, couldn’t exactly take on that many darkspawn and expect to live more than thirty seconds into the fight. “Don’t let her fool you, either. She’s gotten real good at putting on a brave face. Watch the bottom lip. When she starts chewing on it you know she’s worried about something.” He paused, but clearly had more on his mind. Anders waited. “Don’t let all the laughing and cheering and dancing around worry you,” the dwarf said quietly. “I thought she was a bit touched when I met her, too.” That statement was punctuated by a tap of his fingertip against the side of his head. “Fought side by side for two years with her, though. I don’t think you could find a more loyal friend anywhere. Heck of a warrior for a girl in a dress, too. You could do a lot worse for a boss, believe me.” He shrugged. “I always figured it was a mage thing, that tower just made all of you a little… whimsical.”
“I didn’t live there as long as she did,” Anders said by way of explanation. It was a relief to know she wasn't completely insane, though.
The two of them picked their rooms- both were identical so it didn’t take long to decide. Turning back to the dwarf he searched his fractured memory of the last day. “Goodnight, Oghren,” he offered once the name was recovered.
“Night, Sparklefingers,” he grunted in response. I’m just going to assume that’s a friendly jibe and not an insult, Anders thought, too tired to reply.
He was sitting up drenched in sweat not even an hour after crawling into bed. Although he hoped to get a nice rest after his capture and the horrors of the previous day, that didn’t seem possible. Instead of a nice dirty dream, ideally featuring his new commanding officer, Anders was treated to more visions of darkspawn. Shaking slightly, he lay back down and curled his arm around one of the pillows. The rest of the night wasn’t much better. The fourth time he woke Anders pulled himself from bed and walked over to the window.
Second floor, he thought automatically, pushing the window open. No bars. On a hill, but the drop off is far enough away it wouldn’t be an issue. Survivable fall. Shivering in the nighttime chill, Anders closed and latched the window, reminding himself that if he wanted to leave he could just use the door.
It was nearly a full moon. Smoke rose from the chimneys of scattered houses in the woods and in the distance he could see the light reflected off the Amaranthine Ocean, only distinguishable from the darkened night sky by the spread of stars. He had to admit, it was beautiful. Without knowing why, he began to imagine the trees burning, the land blackened and corrupted, even the very fish in the ocean dead and rotting, floating on the surface of polluted water. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again. The peaceful scene had returned to normal.
Turning his back from the window, Anders sat on his bed.
What have I done? he thought as he put his face in his hands, pushing his sweat-damp hair back. He tried to feel the corruption in his blood, but every diagnostic spell he knew turned up nothing. It was there, though. The nightmares were proof enough. Even if he left tomorrow… this would just follow him. Whatever that poison did to him, there was no getting out of it.
Shivering, he ducked under the blankets, lying back and staring at the ceiling. A memory of his childhood in Gwaren suddenly came back to him. One of the boys had found out what the Grey Wardens were, probably overhearing a bit of gossip, and running through the streets with sticks for swords fighting imaginary darkspawn soon became the hobby of choice among the village children. “I’m a Grey Warden!” he had told his mother. She looked down at him and smiled, which meant it must have been just after the order was allowed to return to Ferelden, when he was eight or so. Not much later and she would have had to look up to speak with him. Of course he was, she had said, since where else would he belong if not among the bravest warriors in Thedas? He had to grin, wondering what she would say if he told her that now. Somehow Anders suspected her response wouldn’t be much different. It was certainly more impressive than his life's previous accomplishments thus far, which amounted to setting a record for number of escapes and setting a record for number of times caught in the library after hours with a girl.
Not that waking up repeatedly in a cold sweat was making him feel particularly brave.
But he could fake it. And who knows, maybe eventually he would be able to block out the nightmares.
Maybe I can actually do this, he mused as his eyes drifted closed once more.
Anders woke to the sun in his face. Sitting up, he tried to remember details from his nightmares and found they were already slipping away. Probably for the best, he thought, realizing he really didn’t want to focus on the apocalyptic visions that had plagued his dreams.
Grimacing as he pulled on the bloody robes from yesterday, Anders hoped someone in this building could give him something clean to wear. Opening the door, he saw that wouldn’t be necessary. Someone had found his belongings the Templars who captured him confiscated. Changing into clean robes from his battered old pack, Anders read the two notes that had been slipped under his door while he slept.
The first, from the housekeeper, said she didn’t know whose pack it was, but as the only male mage in residence she guessed him, and if not she hoped the robes would be of use. He snickered to see it addressed ‘Ser Mage.’ The second was a request to find someone named Maggie in her study. Who was Maggie? She was a woman with exceptionally bad handwriting, that much was clear, and someone important enough to have a study, of all things, but beyond that his mind was blank.
Important enough to have a study… well, that answered that. Shaking his head, Anders laughed. He’d forgotten her name from the Circle days, and was so flustered at having been caught seconds after setting several templars on fire that when she introduced herself yesterday it was almost immediately out of mind. Evidently his boss was named Maggie. Not “Grey Warden Margaret” as he now remembered the papers referring to her, not Warden Commander, not even Ser, just Maggie. Although it seemed slightly bizarre to him, given how serious and formal the ceremony was last night, Anders took it as a good sign. He wasn’t sure how long he would last if they expected templar-like discipline out of everyone.
I can do this, Anders told himself, trying to push aside his fear at spending the rest of his life fighting. Taking a few deep breaths he squared his shoulders and went to find her, as ready to start his new life as he would ever be.
Modifié par LupusYondergirl, 26 novembre 2010 - 04:45 .
#4982
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:44
Sarah1281
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@Miri: I just love how Anders has to remind himself that his first priority is saving that girl and THEN he can worry about impressing her. I also love how Nathaniel is capable of sounding just so damn reasonable that he can talk people into extraordinary things. And of course Anders took advantage of the view.
@Lupus: I so love reading all the events from your story from Anders' point of view. I must say, Maggie is a lot less crazy from her own perspective (even though we know that she cheers after battles and danced around when she conscripted Anders). I liked that Anders contemplated escaping that first night and that he and Oghren suddenly really GOT what being a Grey Warden was all about after the Joining. It's also telling that at this point, Anders can't really be bothered to remember anyone's names although Maggie certainly got his down quickly enough.
My second prompt:
Anders had been at the Circle Tower for all of a week and already he knew that he had to get out of there. His mother had been right about it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t believed her, exactly, but he had difficulty imagining that it would be quite this bad. Some of the mages here had no memories of a life outside and kept asking him to tell them stories (which he did, gladly, as he loved the attention) and about such basic things like what the sun was like. How was he supposed to explain something like that? Everyone in the Tower was so very pale and lifeless and he couldn’t stand the thought of that happening to him. Plus, everyone said that the templars wanted to kill all the mages and could stop their magic from working and even though Anders wasn’t quite sure if that were true, the giant templars in their stupid bucket-helmets and their refusal to speak more than necessary were just a little bit…concerning. Not scary at all.
“Ander?” a late middle-aged woman called out to him. She was one of the senior enchanters he’d seen around sometimes. Gwynn or something like that.
“That’s Anders with an ‘s’,” Anders corrected sullenly. Hopefully she wasn’t about to start giving him a lecture about how she ‘understood’ him and the ‘troubles he was having to adjust’ like Irving kept doing. Honestly, if he didn’t want to talk the first time Irving offered, why would he want to the fifth? Or however many times Irving asked him?
“My apologies,” Gwynn told him with a slightly sheepish smile. “I’ve never been the best with names. My name is Wynne.”
Gwynn, Wynne, close enough. Still, at least he knew this now before he called her the wrong name and proved that he wasn’t any better at it than she was. “Did you want something?” Well, that had come out a little ruder than he’d wanted but oh well. It wasn’t like he wanted to talk anyway.
Wynne shook her head tolerantly. “Not particularly, I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk.”
Anders scowled. “I already told Irving that-”
To his surprise, she cut him off. “I know. Irving’s quite concerned, you know, but we don’t have to talk about the Circle.”
Anders tilted his head. “What else could we possibly have to talk about? You’ve been here since you were younger than me, right?”
“I have,” Wynne confirmed. “But I’ve been a Harrowed mage for a very long time now and sometimes that means that I can leave the Tower.”
Anders eyes widened. This sounded promising. “Leave the Tower?” he asked, hoping that he sounded casual.
The way Wynne grinned at him made him think that he hadn’t been successful. “Oh, yes. There is often a need for a trustworthy mage to perform some service outside of the Tower. It will only happen if you study hard and pass your Harrowing and if you don’t give the templars a hard time. Leaving the Tower is a privilege and not a right.”
Anders scowled again, suddenly feeling that that wasn’t so much of a makersend after all. “It should be.”
Wynne ignored that. “How about if I tell you a story?”
“What kind of story?” Anders asked her suspiciously. “Is it one about the kind of adventures I’ll get to have if I’m a good little mage and don’t bother the templars?”
“No,” Wynne started to say. She stopped. “Well…maybe. You never know. Have you ever heard of an order called the Grey Wardens?”
Anders thought back. It did sound vaguely familiar. “Did it have griffons?”
Wynne laughed. “Griffons! Alas, that seems to be the only thing people remember from the tales – the mighty flying mounts that bore the Grey Wardens into battle.”
“That’s probably because they’re the most interesting part,” Anders informed her. Despite having no idea what else the Grey Wardens did (which was probably something unless they were an order of griffon breeders which would actually be kind of cool), he knew that there was really no way that they could possibly do anything cooler than have griffons. “I wish I had a griffon.” It was probably best not to mention that he wanted one to fly away from the Tower from on.
“That certainly would be something, wouldn’t it?” Wynne asked rhetorically. “Unfortunately, it’s quite impossible as the griffons died out after the last Blight.”
“Why?” Anders asked, indignant. One would think the Grey Wardens would take better care of their most awesome feature.
Wynne shrugged. “The Grey Wardens suffered heavy losses at the end of the last Blight. Perhaps too many griffons died and there weren’t enough to sustain their population and to keep breeding with. It was said that watching the Wardens ride in on their white griffons was enough to rouse a weary heart, and put the dance back in the step of an old man. The Grey Wardens were powerful and feared back then but they also were respected and inspired the common people.”
“Why be feared or loved if you could be both, huh?” Anders mused.
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Wynne agreed. “And it brings me to a story I heard once many years ago-”
“Does the story have griffons in it?” Anders asked eagerly.
Wynne threw up her hands. “Maker’s breath, it’s like talking to a child!”
Anders crossed his arms and glared at her. “Well, it’s not like I know what else they do!”
“They fight darkspawn,” Wynne explained. “They are the only ones who can end a Blight. Didn’t you make the connection when I said that the griffons suffered heavy losses in the last Blight?”
Anders shrugged. “I didn’t want to presume. Besides, the Blight kills everything so how would I know?”
Wynne rolled her eyes. “Yes, there are griffons in the story. Now be quiet and listen. ‘The Blight had ravaged the land for months, and the armies of the great kings had amassed for one last stand. As the sun burst through the clouds that boiled and churned in the dark sky above, it illuminated a vast seething horde of darkspawn, with the Archdemon at its head. And it was then – when courage seemed to fail, and all lost to death and despair – that the Grey Wardens came. They arrived with the beating of wings like mighty war drums, and stood before the armies of men.’”
“The Grey Wardens had wings?” Anders asked, confused. “No, wait…that would be the griffons, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it was the griffons,” Wynne said tolerantly. “Now shush. ‘The Grey Wardens, grim and fearless, marched forth, ever between the men and the encroaching darkspawn. They formed a shield of their own bodies and held that line until the Archdemon was dead and the last darkspawn lay trampled in the dirt. And then, demanding neither reward nor recognition for their sacrifice, the Grey Wardens departed. When the clouds finally rolled back and the sun shone full upon the blighted ground, the great kings knew that they had lost no men, and none of their blood had been spilled.’”
Anders just stared at her for a moment. “That…is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Why wouldn’t they get around to the other side of the darkspawn? And why would they become a human shield if they’re more valuable fighters? And wouldn’t they be more effective if they’d let the armies fight? Why else would the armies even be there? And why couldn’t they have shown up earlier? And maybe if they had demanded some recognition they wouldn’t be forgotten today. And why wouldn’t they want anything for ending a sodding Blight? And are we really supposed to believe that nobody died at all? What, are the Wardens super-human now? And what happened to the griffons? You weren’t even going to mention them if I hadn’t brought them up, were you? And-”
“That wasn’t about any specific battle!” Wynne interrupted, exasperated. “It’s an allegory.”
“A what?” Anders repeated blankly.
“An allegory, a figurative mode of representation conveying meaning other than the literal,” Wynne explained.
“…Right.”
“It communicates its message by means of symbolic figures, actions or symbolic representation,” Wynne clarified.
“I see,” Anders said, only slightly less confused. “And that’s supposed to explain its stupidity?”
“It’s not stupid,” Wynne snapped. “It represents how the Grey Wardens have always defended us from darkspawn and taken losses so that we would not have to. People may have forgotten, but nothing has changed and I just know that if and when the darkspawn return, the Grey Wardens will be ready for them!”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Anders told her. “But, no offense, I really don’t think I would ever want to be a Grey Warden.”
Wynne snorted. “None taken. And, no offense, I really don’t think I would ever want you to be a Grey Warden either.”
@Lupus: I so love reading all the events from your story from Anders' point of view. I must say, Maggie is a lot less crazy from her own perspective (even though we know that she cheers after battles and danced around when she conscripted Anders). I liked that Anders contemplated escaping that first night and that he and Oghren suddenly really GOT what being a Grey Warden was all about after the Joining. It's also telling that at this point, Anders can't really be bothered to remember anyone's names although Maggie certainly got his down quickly enough.
My second prompt:
Anders had been at the Circle Tower for all of a week and already he knew that he had to get out of there. His mother had been right about it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t believed her, exactly, but he had difficulty imagining that it would be quite this bad. Some of the mages here had no memories of a life outside and kept asking him to tell them stories (which he did, gladly, as he loved the attention) and about such basic things like what the sun was like. How was he supposed to explain something like that? Everyone in the Tower was so very pale and lifeless and he couldn’t stand the thought of that happening to him. Plus, everyone said that the templars wanted to kill all the mages and could stop their magic from working and even though Anders wasn’t quite sure if that were true, the giant templars in their stupid bucket-helmets and their refusal to speak more than necessary were just a little bit…concerning. Not scary at all.
“Ander?” a late middle-aged woman called out to him. She was one of the senior enchanters he’d seen around sometimes. Gwynn or something like that.
“That’s Anders with an ‘s’,” Anders corrected sullenly. Hopefully she wasn’t about to start giving him a lecture about how she ‘understood’ him and the ‘troubles he was having to adjust’ like Irving kept doing. Honestly, if he didn’t want to talk the first time Irving offered, why would he want to the fifth? Or however many times Irving asked him?
“My apologies,” Gwynn told him with a slightly sheepish smile. “I’ve never been the best with names. My name is Wynne.”
Gwynn, Wynne, close enough. Still, at least he knew this now before he called her the wrong name and proved that he wasn’t any better at it than she was. “Did you want something?” Well, that had come out a little ruder than he’d wanted but oh well. It wasn’t like he wanted to talk anyway.
Wynne shook her head tolerantly. “Not particularly, I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk.”
Anders scowled. “I already told Irving that-”
To his surprise, she cut him off. “I know. Irving’s quite concerned, you know, but we don’t have to talk about the Circle.”
Anders tilted his head. “What else could we possibly have to talk about? You’ve been here since you were younger than me, right?”
“I have,” Wynne confirmed. “But I’ve been a Harrowed mage for a very long time now and sometimes that means that I can leave the Tower.”
Anders eyes widened. This sounded promising. “Leave the Tower?” he asked, hoping that he sounded casual.
The way Wynne grinned at him made him think that he hadn’t been successful. “Oh, yes. There is often a need for a trustworthy mage to perform some service outside of the Tower. It will only happen if you study hard and pass your Harrowing and if you don’t give the templars a hard time. Leaving the Tower is a privilege and not a right.”
Anders scowled again, suddenly feeling that that wasn’t so much of a makersend after all. “It should be.”
Wynne ignored that. “How about if I tell you a story?”
“What kind of story?” Anders asked her suspiciously. “Is it one about the kind of adventures I’ll get to have if I’m a good little mage and don’t bother the templars?”
“No,” Wynne started to say. She stopped. “Well…maybe. You never know. Have you ever heard of an order called the Grey Wardens?”
Anders thought back. It did sound vaguely familiar. “Did it have griffons?”
Wynne laughed. “Griffons! Alas, that seems to be the only thing people remember from the tales – the mighty flying mounts that bore the Grey Wardens into battle.”
“That’s probably because they’re the most interesting part,” Anders informed her. Despite having no idea what else the Grey Wardens did (which was probably something unless they were an order of griffon breeders which would actually be kind of cool), he knew that there was really no way that they could possibly do anything cooler than have griffons. “I wish I had a griffon.” It was probably best not to mention that he wanted one to fly away from the Tower from on.
“That certainly would be something, wouldn’t it?” Wynne asked rhetorically. “Unfortunately, it’s quite impossible as the griffons died out after the last Blight.”
“Why?” Anders asked, indignant. One would think the Grey Wardens would take better care of their most awesome feature.
Wynne shrugged. “The Grey Wardens suffered heavy losses at the end of the last Blight. Perhaps too many griffons died and there weren’t enough to sustain their population and to keep breeding with. It was said that watching the Wardens ride in on their white griffons was enough to rouse a weary heart, and put the dance back in the step of an old man. The Grey Wardens were powerful and feared back then but they also were respected and inspired the common people.”
“Why be feared or loved if you could be both, huh?” Anders mused.
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Wynne agreed. “And it brings me to a story I heard once many years ago-”
“Does the story have griffons in it?” Anders asked eagerly.
Wynne threw up her hands. “Maker’s breath, it’s like talking to a child!”
Anders crossed his arms and glared at her. “Well, it’s not like I know what else they do!”
“They fight darkspawn,” Wynne explained. “They are the only ones who can end a Blight. Didn’t you make the connection when I said that the griffons suffered heavy losses in the last Blight?”
Anders shrugged. “I didn’t want to presume. Besides, the Blight kills everything so how would I know?”
Wynne rolled her eyes. “Yes, there are griffons in the story. Now be quiet and listen. ‘The Blight had ravaged the land for months, and the armies of the great kings had amassed for one last stand. As the sun burst through the clouds that boiled and churned in the dark sky above, it illuminated a vast seething horde of darkspawn, with the Archdemon at its head. And it was then – when courage seemed to fail, and all lost to death and despair – that the Grey Wardens came. They arrived with the beating of wings like mighty war drums, and stood before the armies of men.’”
“The Grey Wardens had wings?” Anders asked, confused. “No, wait…that would be the griffons, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it was the griffons,” Wynne said tolerantly. “Now shush. ‘The Grey Wardens, grim and fearless, marched forth, ever between the men and the encroaching darkspawn. They formed a shield of their own bodies and held that line until the Archdemon was dead and the last darkspawn lay trampled in the dirt. And then, demanding neither reward nor recognition for their sacrifice, the Grey Wardens departed. When the clouds finally rolled back and the sun shone full upon the blighted ground, the great kings knew that they had lost no men, and none of their blood had been spilled.’”
Anders just stared at her for a moment. “That…is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Why wouldn’t they get around to the other side of the darkspawn? And why would they become a human shield if they’re more valuable fighters? And wouldn’t they be more effective if they’d let the armies fight? Why else would the armies even be there? And why couldn’t they have shown up earlier? And maybe if they had demanded some recognition they wouldn’t be forgotten today. And why wouldn’t they want anything for ending a sodding Blight? And are we really supposed to believe that nobody died at all? What, are the Wardens super-human now? And what happened to the griffons? You weren’t even going to mention them if I hadn’t brought them up, were you? And-”
“That wasn’t about any specific battle!” Wynne interrupted, exasperated. “It’s an allegory.”
“A what?” Anders repeated blankly.
“An allegory, a figurative mode of representation conveying meaning other than the literal,” Wynne explained.
“…Right.”
“It communicates its message by means of symbolic figures, actions or symbolic representation,” Wynne clarified.
“I see,” Anders said, only slightly less confused. “And that’s supposed to explain its stupidity?”
“It’s not stupid,” Wynne snapped. “It represents how the Grey Wardens have always defended us from darkspawn and taken losses so that we would not have to. People may have forgotten, but nothing has changed and I just know that if and when the darkspawn return, the Grey Wardens will be ready for them!”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Anders told her. “But, no offense, I really don’t think I would ever want to be a Grey Warden.”
Wynne snorted. “None taken. And, no offense, I really don’t think I would ever want you to be a Grey Warden either.”
#4983
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:52
SurelyForth
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#4984
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 03:17
Avilia
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Great stuff guys! I loved all of them and the facebook convo. Its true you know, we brood too much to actually post anything ;-)
I promise to comment on everyone's when I can read them properly at home. This work caper really cuts into my posting time!
I promise to comment on everyone's when I can read them properly at home. This work caper really cuts into my posting time!
#4985
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 03:52
Miri1984
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@ all of you:
, 
, 
& 
& even 
.
Beautiful stuff. I am honoured to know you.
, , & & even .Beautiful stuff. I am honoured to know you.
#4986
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 04:30
tankgirly
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Miri1984 wrote...
@ all of you:
Beautiful stuff. I am honoured to know you.
Indeed.
#4987
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 04:48
Wedger
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Zev's facebook page had an orgy celebrating one year. Just sayin'
http://www.facebook....ai/209429810090
And what Miri said! Squared
http://www.facebook....ai/209429810090
And what Miri said! Squared
Modifié par Wedger, 26 novembre 2010 - 04:50 .
#4988
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 05:40
tankgirly
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Wedger wrote...
Zev's facebook page had an orgy celebrating one year. Just sayin'
http://www.facebook....ai/209429810090
And what Miri said! Squared
Yeah, I saw that!
Such a shame there is no Anders FB page there..
Tank
#4989
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 05:58
Miri1984
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Finished my Cullen piece over on Tent Party - also started a new story on my FF site that I'm going to put my tent party prompts in. I have this image of some of my readers clicking on things like "Gratitude" and then running away screaming so I had to have some sort of warning system in place!
If you feel like some Thanksgiving Anders/Cullen smut, you can read it here.
If you feel like some Thanksgiving Anders/Cullen smut, you can read it here.
Modifié par Miri1984, 26 novembre 2010 - 06:11 .
#4990
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 06:07
LupusYondergirl
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@Gala: Thank you! Glad you liked it. And I'm sorry about your friend, that's never an easy thing to go through.
@Miri: I love it. Anders making sure to look up her dress as she jumped cracked me up.
@Cave: Suddenly the Ferelden wardens become 80% women overnight. No one outside the country understands why until they get copies of the poster translated into their own languages.
The second one made me kind of sad, since it reminded me of your claustrophobia prompt. But I can see Anders loving that there was a bust of him out there.
@Avilia: Oh wow... you went there. My hat is off to you, I don't know if I could manage it. You did a fantastic job, though. Nice to see he kept his sense of humor even then.
@Sarah: I am LOVING the idea of Anders as 'the' Warden. Just picturing him speaking with King Glorious is making me grin ear to ear. The second made me happy because he got to say what EVERYONE wants to say to Wynne when she tells them that absurd story.
@Surely: Anders has every right to gloat.
And I have a bonus barely-Anders drabble for Miri. Since she included Maggie in her Jealousy prompt yesterday I decided to try and do something with Neria. But since this is Neria in AOA universe it would be a Neria who didn't get raked over the coals for helping Jowan.
*****
Mutual Friend
“Enchanter Neria?”
She looked up from her book with a sigh. “Yes, Ser Bran?”
“Sorry to disturb you,” he offered. “I was asked to bring you a message.” He handed her a small piece of folded paper, nodded, and left. Neria groaned as she looked at the seal. Blue wax, bearing two rearing griffons. What does that woman possibly want with me?
Neria-
I need to speak with you. I realize we’ve never exactly been friends, but I think you will want to hear what I have to
say.
I’m here until tomorrow recruiting for the Wardens, please meet me behind the third floor storage room. I’ll wait
there during dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow.
-Maggie
PS- Don’t tell anyone!
“Don’t tell anyone?” she muttered to herself. It was infuriating. Neria could see why she was picked for the Grey Wardens. Mages focused on battle were rare, and mages focused on battle who wanted to join an order with a reputation for being near-suicidal fanatics even rarer. That they saved her from punishment didn't even bother Neria, since her infraction had been helping their only mutual friend escape being made tranquil. Deep down, she suspected if it was her he had asked she would have done the same.
Neria understood why the Grey Wardens wanted her. What she didn't understand was how naming someone who switched between acting like life was nothing but an unending children’s adventure story and acting like life was nothing but a dirty Antivan novel the commander made sense. Knowing that she had become practically synonymous with ‘mage’ in the minds of most people in Ferelden didn’t help. Neria could list a hundred mages that would be a better public example of their kind.
Annoyed, she crumpled the letter and tossed it in her fireplace.
Maggie paced behind the storeroom. Quickly realizing her boots were far louder than the soft Circle-issued ones, which had never been designed for walking outside, she stopped and sat against a wall in the shadows. It was amazing how little the tower had changed in the years since she left. This was still an area few people even knew existed, much less visited. No wonder it smelled a bit... sweaty. Come on, she thought. You don’t hate me that much, do you?
Just as she was about to give up there was the sound of soft leather shoes on stone. Maggie watched in silence. Petite, even for an elf. Dark hair, cut short. A very sensible haircut. Yep, it was her. “Figures,” she muttered. “Not even here.”
“Wait,” Maggie called, standing up and stepping out of the shadows. “I’m right here. I was hiding.”
Neria sighed. “Hiding?”
“Yes. Hiding. So no one could see me.” She nodded as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maggie briefly wondered if her note didn't stress the secrecy of this meeting enough.
Neria sighed with annoyance. Apparently the responsibilities of command hadn’t granted her anything resembling maturity. Everything was still a game to her. “I assume there was a reason you asked me to meet you?”
"You came alone, right? No one followed you?”
“Followed me? Are you mad?”
She shrugged. “Probably. I think anyone with my job would be, though. Now were you followed? Yes or no!”
“No,” Neria sighed.
Maggie nodded, looking pleased, and leaned over so she could whisper. “We have a mutual friend among the Grey,” she said. When Neria looked at her blankly Maggie sighed. “Let’s say… it is not a life of tranquility.”
Neria sucked in a breath. “You mean—”
“Yes,” she said, cutting her off before she could say his name. “He’s married now. His daughter will be four soon.”
"He's... all right?"
She nodded, grinning. "He's fine. Got used to the job fast, but I knew he would. It was kind of a last-resort thing for him, but he likes it now. I'm just glad I could do something."
“You’re allowed to do that? Even though he’s a…”
“Grey Wardens can use any means necessary, we fight things much worse than demons and abominations,” she said, sounding very serious. Neria was briefly surprised. Perhaps she had changed. “And the Chantry can kiss my ass.” Or not.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling an enormous sense of relief. Until then, Neria hadn't even noticed how much worries about him had plagued the back of her mind. “I appreciate you telling me.”
“Happy to,” she said cheerfully. “He sends his love. Says not to study too hard.” Still slightly thrown off by surprise, Neria muttered a response and Maggie cheerfully walked off.
“There you are,” called a male voice.
“Here I am!” Neria heard Maggie respond. “Had to deliver a message.”
“Work work work,” he laughed.
Neria saw her speaking to a tall blonde man, in similar blue robes embroidered with a repeating pattern of griffins. After a moment she recognized him as a mage who spent a good deal of his time away from the tower. When he was in the tower it was in solitary confinement more often than not, since he didn’t bother to ask for leave when he went on all those trips. There had been whispers around the tower when he joined the Wardens, stories of dead templars and the Warden Commander jumping in to grab him before the Chantry could seek justice. I guess they will take just about anyone, Neria thought.
Walking back to her office, she felt very grateful for that.
@Miri: I love it. Anders making sure to look up her dress as she jumped cracked me up.
@Cave: Suddenly the Ferelden wardens become 80% women overnight. No one outside the country understands why until they get copies of the poster translated into their own languages.
The second one made me kind of sad, since it reminded me of your claustrophobia prompt. But I can see Anders loving that there was a bust of him out there.
@Avilia: Oh wow... you went there. My hat is off to you, I don't know if I could manage it. You did a fantastic job, though. Nice to see he kept his sense of humor even then.
@Sarah: I am LOVING the idea of Anders as 'the' Warden. Just picturing him speaking with King Glorious is making me grin ear to ear. The second made me happy because he got to say what EVERYONE wants to say to Wynne when she tells them that absurd story.
@Surely: Anders has every right to gloat.
And I have a bonus barely-Anders drabble for Miri. Since she included Maggie in her Jealousy prompt yesterday I decided to try and do something with Neria. But since this is Neria in AOA universe it would be a Neria who didn't get raked over the coals for helping Jowan.
*****
Mutual Friend
“Enchanter Neria?”
She looked up from her book with a sigh. “Yes, Ser Bran?”
“Sorry to disturb you,” he offered. “I was asked to bring you a message.” He handed her a small piece of folded paper, nodded, and left. Neria groaned as she looked at the seal. Blue wax, bearing two rearing griffons. What does that woman possibly want with me?
Neria-
I need to speak with you. I realize we’ve never exactly been friends, but I think you will want to hear what I have to
say.
I’m here until tomorrow recruiting for the Wardens, please meet me behind the third floor storage room. I’ll wait
there during dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow.
-Maggie
PS- Don’t tell anyone!
“Don’t tell anyone?” she muttered to herself. It was infuriating. Neria could see why she was picked for the Grey Wardens. Mages focused on battle were rare, and mages focused on battle who wanted to join an order with a reputation for being near-suicidal fanatics even rarer. That they saved her from punishment didn't even bother Neria, since her infraction had been helping their only mutual friend escape being made tranquil. Deep down, she suspected if it was her he had asked she would have done the same.
Neria understood why the Grey Wardens wanted her. What she didn't understand was how naming someone who switched between acting like life was nothing but an unending children’s adventure story and acting like life was nothing but a dirty Antivan novel the commander made sense. Knowing that she had become practically synonymous with ‘mage’ in the minds of most people in Ferelden didn’t help. Neria could list a hundred mages that would be a better public example of their kind.
Annoyed, she crumpled the letter and tossed it in her fireplace.
Maggie paced behind the storeroom. Quickly realizing her boots were far louder than the soft Circle-issued ones, which had never been designed for walking outside, she stopped and sat against a wall in the shadows. It was amazing how little the tower had changed in the years since she left. This was still an area few people even knew existed, much less visited. No wonder it smelled a bit... sweaty. Come on, she thought. You don’t hate me that much, do you?
Just as she was about to give up there was the sound of soft leather shoes on stone. Maggie watched in silence. Petite, even for an elf. Dark hair, cut short. A very sensible haircut. Yep, it was her. “Figures,” she muttered. “Not even here.”
“Wait,” Maggie called, standing up and stepping out of the shadows. “I’m right here. I was hiding.”
Neria sighed. “Hiding?”
“Yes. Hiding. So no one could see me.” She nodded as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maggie briefly wondered if her note didn't stress the secrecy of this meeting enough.
Neria sighed with annoyance. Apparently the responsibilities of command hadn’t granted her anything resembling maturity. Everything was still a game to her. “I assume there was a reason you asked me to meet you?”
"You came alone, right? No one followed you?”
“Followed me? Are you mad?”
She shrugged. “Probably. I think anyone with my job would be, though. Now were you followed? Yes or no!”
“No,” Neria sighed.
Maggie nodded, looking pleased, and leaned over so she could whisper. “We have a mutual friend among the Grey,” she said. When Neria looked at her blankly Maggie sighed. “Let’s say… it is not a life of tranquility.”
Neria sucked in a breath. “You mean—”
“Yes,” she said, cutting her off before she could say his name. “He’s married now. His daughter will be four soon.”
"He's... all right?"
She nodded, grinning. "He's fine. Got used to the job fast, but I knew he would. It was kind of a last-resort thing for him, but he likes it now. I'm just glad I could do something."
“You’re allowed to do that? Even though he’s a…”
“Grey Wardens can use any means necessary, we fight things much worse than demons and abominations,” she said, sounding very serious. Neria was briefly surprised. Perhaps she had changed. “And the Chantry can kiss my ass.” Or not.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling an enormous sense of relief. Until then, Neria hadn't even noticed how much worries about him had plagued the back of her mind. “I appreciate you telling me.”
“Happy to,” she said cheerfully. “He sends his love. Says not to study too hard.” Still slightly thrown off by surprise, Neria muttered a response and Maggie cheerfully walked off.
“There you are,” called a male voice.
“Here I am!” Neria heard Maggie respond. “Had to deliver a message.”
“Work work work,” he laughed.
Neria saw her speaking to a tall blonde man, in similar blue robes embroidered with a repeating pattern of griffins. After a moment she recognized him as a mage who spent a good deal of his time away from the tower. When he was in the tower it was in solitary confinement more often than not, since he didn’t bother to ask for leave when he went on all those trips. There had been whispers around the tower when he joined the Wardens, stories of dead templars and the Warden Commander jumping in to grab him before the Chantry could seek justice. I guess they will take just about anyone, Neria thought.
Walking back to her office, she felt very grateful for that.
Modifié par LupusYondergirl, 26 novembre 2010 - 06:12 .
#4991
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 06:20
Miri1984
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@Lupus Oh YEAH! That was magnificent, thank you soo much! Just like getting fanart. Fanfic of fanfic - we are sooo post modern.
I loved that she was still ever-so-slightly naughty, thinking that she would have helped Jowan as well. And her reaction to Anders was priceless. Gorgeous, gorgeous stuff.
I loved that she was still ever-so-slightly naughty, thinking that she would have helped Jowan as well. And her reaction to Anders was priceless. Gorgeous, gorgeous stuff.
#4992
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 06:26
cave_fatuam
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Will comment when a person again...
My Jealousy Prompt:
"Chocolate Cures Everything"
The new Wardens were catcalling and dancing their way back into the Keep. Falla dressed in a rather clingy dress was swinging a bottle idly while singing what sounded like a Rivani drinking song. Marcys was leaning heavily on her arm and attempting to slide his hand below her waist. She pushed him away sharply, and he flopped to the ground. Anders winced. Stupid Marcys. He had moved too slow with her early in the evening and now he was trying to make up for it. Anders shook his head. If he was in Marcys' position, Falla would have been soundly satiated by this point. He leaned against the window frame briefly before setting off down the hall.
He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Being young, footloose and free seemed too distant a memory now. The worst part was that he had been good at it. Maker, there were times he would give anything to go back to that point in his life. If only he could--
"Andy! I got chocolate! 'S for drinking!"
The tiny elf girl was running headlong toward him sloshing said drinking chocolate down her front.
"Oi, Sam! Where's mine then?" He lifted her up in the air. She looked down at him; her little nose wrinkled up in consternation. "Ma Mae, where's Andy's chocolate? He needs some too!"
"He's naughty and isn't allowed any. Anyway, 's far past his bed time and yours too, little miss." Anders grinned at the woman swaying down the hall.
"Ah, Mae. We'll be nice and even study our lessons. Isn't that right, Samahla?" Anders smiled as innocently as possible and allowed the child to crawl up to his shoulders.
"Yep. Even the boring ones with numbers," Samahla placed the cup on his head. Anders winced as he felt warm chocolate dribble down his forehead.
"We're all going to bed. 'S bad enough my Wardens act like hooligans. I won't have you lot doing as such."
"Sorry, Sam. Can't argue with the boss." Anders shrugged and inadvertently toppled the cup of chocolate spilling its contents down his face.
"Ah, shi-"
-------------------------------------------
Anders softly closed the door to Samahla's room. The soft snoring of the little girl silenced as the tumblers clicked into place.
"Do you ever miss it?" Maeve asked as she looked out the hall window. She could clearly see Falla emerge from a dark corner and righting her clothes. Marcys emerged several seconds later sauntering after her smugly
"I do envy them at times, but something always seems to remind me that I'm better off now." He gently pulled her away from the window.
"Even though you're thoroughly coated in chocolate?" Maeve rose up on her toes and ran her tongue behind his ear. Anders sighed happily.
"Especially when I'm covered in chocolate."
"You wouldn't mind if I cleaned you up, would you?" She grinned up at him.
"Mmm... Let's go make everyone jealous." He scooped Maeve up handily, chuckling as she nuzzled against his neck. If he was good at being young and irresponsible, then he was better at this.
My Jealousy Prompt:
"Chocolate Cures Everything"
The new Wardens were catcalling and dancing their way back into the Keep. Falla dressed in a rather clingy dress was swinging a bottle idly while singing what sounded like a Rivani drinking song. Marcys was leaning heavily on her arm and attempting to slide his hand below her waist. She pushed him away sharply, and he flopped to the ground. Anders winced. Stupid Marcys. He had moved too slow with her early in the evening and now he was trying to make up for it. Anders shook his head. If he was in Marcys' position, Falla would have been soundly satiated by this point. He leaned against the window frame briefly before setting off down the hall.
He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Being young, footloose and free seemed too distant a memory now. The worst part was that he had been good at it. Maker, there were times he would give anything to go back to that point in his life. If only he could--
"Andy! I got chocolate! 'S for drinking!"
The tiny elf girl was running headlong toward him sloshing said drinking chocolate down her front.
"Oi, Sam! Where's mine then?" He lifted her up in the air. She looked down at him; her little nose wrinkled up in consternation. "Ma Mae, where's Andy's chocolate? He needs some too!"
"He's naughty and isn't allowed any. Anyway, 's far past his bed time and yours too, little miss." Anders grinned at the woman swaying down the hall.
"Ah, Mae. We'll be nice and even study our lessons. Isn't that right, Samahla?" Anders smiled as innocently as possible and allowed the child to crawl up to his shoulders.
"Yep. Even the boring ones with numbers," Samahla placed the cup on his head. Anders winced as he felt warm chocolate dribble down his forehead.
"We're all going to bed. 'S bad enough my Wardens act like hooligans. I won't have you lot doing as such."
"Sorry, Sam. Can't argue with the boss." Anders shrugged and inadvertently toppled the cup of chocolate spilling its contents down his face.
"Ah, shi-"
-------------------------------------------
Anders softly closed the door to Samahla's room. The soft snoring of the little girl silenced as the tumblers clicked into place.
"Do you ever miss it?" Maeve asked as she looked out the hall window. She could clearly see Falla emerge from a dark corner and righting her clothes. Marcys emerged several seconds later sauntering after her smugly
"I do envy them at times, but something always seems to remind me that I'm better off now." He gently pulled her away from the window.
"Even though you're thoroughly coated in chocolate?" Maeve rose up on her toes and ran her tongue behind his ear. Anders sighed happily.
"Especially when I'm covered in chocolate."
"You wouldn't mind if I cleaned you up, would you?" She grinned up at him.
"Mmm... Let's go make everyone jealous." He scooped Maeve up handily, chuckling as she nuzzled against his neck. If he was good at being young and irresponsible, then he was better at this.
Modifié par cave_fatuam, 26 novembre 2010 - 07:16 .
#4993
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 06:42
LupusYondergirl
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@Miri: Yay! I'm glad you liked it! I was so worried I was wildly off base with her voice.
I'm nervous about posting kmeme stuff to ffnet. I thought AO wasn't allowed. And I know they don't really check, but I'm paranoid.
@Cave: I like that. The balance between missing being young and wild and being happy about what he has now is great.
Oh, and I put the page 200 stuff on the Anders group. Will add more if we get more.
I'm nervous about posting kmeme stuff to ffnet. I thought AO wasn't allowed. And I know they don't really check, but I'm paranoid.
@Cave: I like that. The balance between missing being young and wild and being happy about what he has now is great.
Oh, and I put the page 200 stuff on the Anders group. Will add more if we get more.
Modifié par LupusYondergirl, 26 novembre 2010 - 06:43 .
#4994
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 06:46
Miri1984
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@Lupus I would never post BDSM or anything REALLY smutty there - but the stuff I write for kinkmeme is never more risky than my normal sex scenes so I figure it's all right. If the tent party girls (not looking at anyone in particular) start asking for more exotic things I probably won't post it there. But I actually really like that Cullen fill I did, even though the Anders is such an arse.
Basically if it has a plot I'm ok with it being on ff.net. I'm hoping they think the same. And if they decide to warn me about it I'll take it down. No biggie.
Basically if it has a plot I'm ok with it being on ff.net. I'm hoping they think the same. And if they decide to warn me about it I'll take it down. No biggie.
#4995
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 06:56
LupusYondergirl
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Logical reasoning. And I don't do anything too crazy, either, beyond threesomes or whatever, so I could probably get away with it. Hm. Something to think about. But then, I have dirty stuff in so many of my regular stories the kmeme things really only differ in that they don't fit neatly into the aoa universe.
I really like your Cullen fill, too. Anders is an ass, but... he's in character. And Cullen's guilt practically rolls off the screen. You did such a great job capturing it. And at least you didn't leave Cullen with lifelong psychosis like I did.
I really like your Cullen fill, too. Anders is an ass, but... he's in character. And Cullen's guilt practically rolls off the screen. You did such a great job capturing it. And at least you didn't leave Cullen with lifelong psychosis like I did.
Modifié par LupusYondergirl, 26 novembre 2010 - 06:57 .
#4996
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 07:47
Miri1984
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There are DEFINITELY racier things than my kink fills on FF.net. I've read them.
I feel dreadful doing bad things to Cullen. Although I STRONGLY suspect he was named after Edward Cullen in Twilight, which is why he has the whole stalker-vibe with the female mage PC. Certainly what DG said about him makes me think the same. But then, he shouldn't have written him so nice in the mage origin.
Also, the idea of Greg Ellis and Greg Ellis is kinda funny.
I feel dreadful doing bad things to Cullen. Although I STRONGLY suspect he was named after Edward Cullen in Twilight, which is why he has the whole stalker-vibe with the female mage PC. Certainly what DG said about him makes me think the same. But then, he shouldn't have written him so nice in the mage origin.
Also, the idea of Greg Ellis and Greg Ellis is kinda funny.
#4997
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 09:03
sabreene
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I sadly have no prompt and no new screenshots, but I just wanted to pop on and say Happy 200!!
Anders
Anders
#4998
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 11:12
Galagraphia
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I've read all 200!responses, you all are awesome.
@Sarah, I love glorious king stuff, I was giggling madly while reading it.
@Avilia, this was a sad one, but I love how Andy&Nate are all BFFs, till the end.
@Lupus, Miri, I adore you both ))) Though I avoid reading Cullen/Anders, because I still want to finish my comic someday.
@Cave, so they have a kid? Awwww.
@Surely, fangirling Oghren is full of win! ))))))))))
@Sarah, I love glorious king stuff, I was giggling madly while reading it.
@Avilia, this was a sad one, but I love how Andy&Nate are all BFFs, till the end.
@Lupus, Miri, I adore you both ))) Though I avoid reading Cullen/Anders, because I still want to finish my comic someday.
@Cave, so they have a kid? Awwww.
@Surely, fangirling Oghren is full of win! ))))))))))
Modifié par Galagraphia, 26 novembre 2010 - 11:21 .
#4999
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:09
Sarah1281
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So I eventually noticed the two posts edited to include prompt entries.
Cave: I'm glad they've finally realized the secret to successful recruitment...of women and gay/bi men, at least. Of course, the heterosexual men might join up upon realizing just how many women have. The accompanying story was a little sad and I'm glad Anders tried to make her feel better about everything.
Avilia: I wouldn't have thought Anders would have been that sentimental about the broodmother. I'm glad that, in canon at least, he's right about the survivors even if Oghren would be the only Grey Warden at the Keep to make it. The part about remaining vigilant was definitely funny (and I'm curious about the small army chasing Alistair) and the last part was really sad.
Lupus: The more things change, I guess. I love how she had legitimate reason to insist on all the cloak-and-dagger stuff and Neria was getting all annoyed because she didn't think that Maggie was capable of taking anything seriously.
Cave: I'm glad that, despite how nostalgic he was getting, he decided where he was in life then was better than what he had had.
Cave: I'm glad they've finally realized the secret to successful recruitment...of women and gay/bi men, at least. Of course, the heterosexual men might join up upon realizing just how many women have. The accompanying story was a little sad and I'm glad Anders tried to make her feel better about everything.
Avilia: I wouldn't have thought Anders would have been that sentimental about the broodmother. I'm glad that, in canon at least, he's right about the survivors even if Oghren would be the only Grey Warden at the Keep to make it. The part about remaining vigilant was definitely funny (and I'm curious about the small army chasing Alistair) and the last part was really sad.
Lupus: The more things change, I guess. I love how she had legitimate reason to insist on all the cloak-and-dagger stuff and Neria was getting all annoyed because she didn't think that Maggie was capable of taking anything seriously.
Cave: I'm glad that, despite how nostalgic he was getting, he decided where he was in life then was better than what he had had.
#5000
Posté 26 novembre 2010 - 02:28
cave_fatuam
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@Miri
I love it. This fic's Anders is totally allowed to borrow West, Young Warden! Anders' cowboy hat for that last line. ;3
@Avilia
D'awww... This would totally make me all sad-face, but Anders still being a wee bit silly saved me.
@Sarah
That was all giggle-inducing to say the least.
If Anders had to deal with everything The Warden did, I suspect there would be a heck of a lot more eye rolling.
@Lupus
Regarding your fic:
Getting to see this from Anders point of view with Maggie's is interesting. Especially since he's not built up a tolerance to her crazypants-ness at this point.
Regarding my 200 post:
Yeah, I'm pretty sure a fair number of young women would be beating down the doors to be Grey Wardens.
As far as the 200 Years ficlet goes, it's just another result of Anders being all emo/bat-**** insane in my head lately for some reason. -shrug- The jealousy response was my effort to resist shouting "Cheer up, Buttercup!" angrily at my screen. XD
@Surely
*sporfle* *giggle*
@Gala
Maeve's all about adopting a cute little elven misfit that Anders brings home from one of his run abouts. I need to upload some of my drawings of Anders and Samahla. Anders trying to figure out how to deal with a kid is priceless.
I love it. This fic's Anders is totally allowed to borrow West, Young Warden! Anders' cowboy hat for that last line. ;3
@Avilia
D'awww... This would totally make me all sad-face, but Anders still being a wee bit silly saved me.
@Sarah
That was all giggle-inducing to say the least.
If Anders had to deal with everything The Warden did, I suspect there would be a heck of a lot more eye rolling.
@Lupus
Regarding your fic:
Getting to see this from Anders point of view with Maggie's is interesting. Especially since he's not built up a tolerance to her crazypants-ness at this point.
Regarding my 200 post:
Yeah, I'm pretty sure a fair number of young women would be beating down the doors to be Grey Wardens.
As far as the 200 Years ficlet goes, it's just another result of Anders being all emo/bat-**** insane in my head lately for some reason. -shrug- The jealousy response was my effort to resist shouting "Cheer up, Buttercup!" angrily at my screen. XD
@Surely
*sporfle* *giggle*
@Gala
Maeve's all about adopting a cute little elven misfit that Anders brings home from one of his run abouts. I need to upload some of my drawings of Anders and Samahla. Anders trying to figure out how to deal with a kid is priceless.
Modifié par cave_fatuam, 26 novembre 2010 - 02:40 .
