Alistair Theirin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winterlamp) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
newcastlecrew2019-01-29 10:08 pm
winterlamp) wrote in newcastlecrew2019-01-29 10:08 pm
lookin' for a sign of life
[The Deep Roads yet again. And with a mage. The idea behind the thing made sense. Alistair was a former Templar-in-Training and could dispel the magic of a renegade mage if need be. Alistair really hoped it wouldn't come to that. He liked Anders for what that was worth. Granted, the two didn't know each other very well and Anders delighted in giving Alistair a difficult time... not that the other Warden really had to try too hard. But they've had some fun chats and Alistair is never one to shy away from learning from another person. Those remarks about being a templar could go, though. No matter how many times Alistair reminded Anders that he never actually was one, the mage always seemed to conveniently forget.
But now it was just the two of them in the dark chill, two Wardens meant to complement each other with their various strengths. The mission was simple enough in theory: determine whether or not the darkspawn had returned underground and if so, note where among the Deep Roads to the best of their ability. A task easier said than done considering how easy to was to lose one's way.
Alistair adjusts the pack against his shoulders and holds his glowstone torch aloft. Everything looked the same.]
You know, I always wondered why my father willingly came down here twice and now here I am doing the same thing. Though I'll have to be honest, the food that was rationed for us really isn't that bad. I have a feeling someone knows how I feel about cheese based on the amount of it in my bag. The meat's not bad either, though I'm... not entirely sure what it is.
But now it was just the two of them in the dark chill, two Wardens meant to complement each other with their various strengths. The mission was simple enough in theory: determine whether or not the darkspawn had returned underground and if so, note where among the Deep Roads to the best of their ability. A task easier said than done considering how easy to was to lose one's way.
Alistair adjusts the pack against his shoulders and holds his glowstone torch aloft. Everything looked the same.]
You know, I always wondered why my father willingly came down here twice and now here I am doing the same thing. Though I'll have to be honest, the food that was rationed for us really isn't that bad. I have a feeling someone knows how I feel about cheese based on the amount of it in my bag. The meat's not bad either, though I'm... not entirely sure what it is.
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[ Ser Pounce meows in apparent agreement (or maybe he's just responding to Anders scratching him behind the ears, as the cat pokes his head out of Anders' coat). ]
I can hardly help it if you can't keep your eyes to yourself.
[ It's only like the top tenth of his chest, anyway. Even less, with Pounce hanging out, his head tilted back as he purrs audibly. ]
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[Alistair wants to comment on the cat, on Oghren, on anything else but what Anders insisted on ending his comment with.]
You know very well I was making a joke.
[But now that Anders made the comment Alistair's instinct is to take a look at said chest. The more his inner voice tells him not to the harder it is to resist.
Don't do it, don't do it.
Aaaand there his eyes dart to take a peek.
Damn.]
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Maybe we should move on?
[ Pounce tucks his fuzzy, orange head away again and Anders snaps another couple of clasps shut with almost absurd dexterity. ]
You're getting us all distracted from the mission.
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[Wait, that didn't come out right. Ever more flustered, Alistair shakes his head and takes a step back.]
M-maybe you should lead for a while.
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Tire of the view from the front, did you? Well, I can assure you the back is just as magnificent. If not more so.
[ Boy, it sure would be nice to get attacked by some darkspawn right about now, wouldn't it??? ]
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What he does find is a glint of metal and Alistair turns off the main path to follow it. Alistair bends, picking up what he recognizes as a legendary dwarven-made helmet.]
Legion of the Dead. This kind of craftsmanship could be useful. Do we bring it back with us?
[Sure, loot was common enough, but not something like this. Then again, Alistair wasn't exactly sure what the protocol was for dwarves so revered in giving their lives to fight the Darkspawn.]
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[ With perhaps a very welcome measure of sobriety, Anders points over Alistair's shoulder, eyeing the spot where he picked the helmet from. There's a flat slab of stone just behind it, worn smooth, with a now unreadable inscription scraped into it. ]
It's a grave. Well, a sort of one, anyway, I think. Obviously there's nothing buried here, but given the Darkspawn, probably there wasn't anything left to bury...
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[Alistair abandons his place, approaching the grave with careful steps.]
Can you tell how long ago the grave was forged? Either by looking or... I don't know. [He waves a hand in the air to indicate any unseen presences.] Spirits?
[He feels both lost and foolish voicing his question out loud.]
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Well, the spirits don't know anything about the age of this gravestone, but they're shocked to see such an incredibly large child standing in front of me.
[ Is he twelve?? Anders wiggles his own fingers for effect, although it's a decidedly sarcastic effect. ]
I'm a spirit healer, not a messenger. Your guess is as good as mine.
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[His first sentence remains quiet and even. As he continues to speak he allows himself to show the anger he feels and his voice rises.]
I don't know what your skills are, but I do know that you won't shut up about how mages are treated. And here I am, clearly open minded to solutions that involve magic and you do nothing but mock me for it repeatedly.
[Alistair is honored to be a Grey Warden and any other day would be dedicated to finishing a task. At least that was before he was paired with Anders.
He turns his back to leave the way they came, taking his supplies with him.]
I'm done. Have fun with the darkspawn for me.
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If that's your idea of being open-minded, I'm afraid to think what you'd consider the opposite.
[ His own voice pitches a bit sharper, continuing as if this argument hasn't been summarily shut down, already - but it's not like he knows another convenient route back to the surface, so they're walking together, anyway. ]
Just because I want respect for my magic doesn't mean I also want to be treated like the token mage all the time. I'm not just a staff and a skirt, you know. If you wanted my advice, you could ask for it without insinuating I'm nothing but some convenient magical conduit of weird, Fade-y nonsense.
I don't know what you're capable of, either, but I didn't assume it was swinging a sword and grunting loudly and nothing else.
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[He turns, incredulous.]
I just had a thought and I reasoned you'd know more than I do. I think you're smart, Anders. And talented. And funny when you're not being so mean about it.
[He sighs, looking to Anders for help, dropping his arms to his sides.]
But, Maker you're frustrating. And this assignment is frustrating. I'm sure you'll find all this toothachingly sincere but the truth is I'm at a loss.
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Some things just - necessitate honesty, difficult as that is to reckon with, at the best of times. (And standing around in the dark and foreboding Deep Roads is not a best kind of time by far.) ]
Well... Maybe it's better that way. You don't want to be getting too chummy with the apostate, anyway. Nothing good happens to decent people who get too close to me.
[ Being a Warden, he'd thought, might have changed that - but lately it seems the templars are determined to dog him even here. The real ones, that is. ]
You don't deserve to get tangled up in my problems.
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[He shuffles a little, suddenly very self aware, and kicks idly at a rock.]
I want to stand beside you, in whatever way that happens to be. It's awful to feel alone and I don't want that for you.
[There's a hurt in Alistair's eyes as his own words hit too close to home. He doesn't want Anders to push him away too.]
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[ Because he can't let this go without trying to make light of it in some way. Not that there's a hint of amusement in his falsely jovial tone, nor a single glimmer of it in his expression.
Anders doesn't know what to do with that hurt look, as familiar as it feels. But maybe that's not such a bad thing, as it leaves him little other recourse but to sigh and revert to that irritating honesty.
It's a little more hesitant and earnest than he'd like, as he rocks back and forth on his heels in decisively for a moment, biting the inside of his lip, before he offers, ]
...Start over, then? Truce?
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[Alistair walks within arm's length of Anders, extending a hand to make it official.]
And I don't... want to be annoying. We can talk things out if you don't like something, I promise.
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Just don't get all touchy-feely on me again without any warning, all right? It makes me uncomfortable.
[ Having real emotions just lobbed at him, willy-nilly. Rude. ]
Nobody ever tries to cozy up to you in the Circle unless they want something.
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I promise I won't.
[There's a slight scraping sound as Alistair scuffs at the ground with the tip of his boot.]
But. I'm generally kind of an open person. I can't stop my personality but I want to be respectful of yours. What counts as a warning?
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[ Anders shrugs, smiling thinly. It's a joke, but given his track record with those and Alistair, so far, he has reasons to be hesitant. ]
I'm not asking you to be someone else. That... wouldn't be fair. But if we're going to be getting lost in the Deep Roads together often, you can't take everything I say so personally. Or literally.