i.

Castle to Knight

GWYN

The Circle mage stalked off, and the young knight turned so I could see him clearly for the first time. He gave me a wry grin. "One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he drawled.

I was less than pleased, not least because he had caught me eavesdropping, and if the young man looked for me to share in his amusement, he was mistaken. Even were I in a humor to laugh, the disagreement I had witnessed, in the current climate, would not strike me as funny. And while the mage had certainly begun the altercation, the knight had hardly attempted to defuse the situation.

"Indeed. If all our mages are as courteous as that man, and all our knights as diplomatic as you are, ser, the darkspawn are sure to be swept away before our united front. Good day to you." I moved to pass the young man. The day was waning, and I had my instructions from Duncan. He had said Alistair was in the encampment; there could not be much more of it where the Warden could be. I'd been foolish to tarry as long as I had. Who knew what Duncan's ritual entailed?

Instead of having the sense to step aside and let me be about my business, however, the young man rubbed the back of his neck with his gauntlet and stood around looking chastened. "I . . . uh . . . I suppose I could have . . . er . . . handled the situation better, couldn't I? Wait, we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?"

I sighed. "Would that make your day worse?"

He shrugged. "Hardly. I just like to know my chances of being turned into a toad at any given moment."

I had caught him off guard at first, but he certainly rebounded quickly. This one didn't lack for wit, in any event, however inappropriate and untimely it might be. "I imagine among mages that must be a worry for you, ser," I conceded. "Fortunately for you, I am no mage, and you are safe from me." I bowed. "Gwyn is my name."

He stood up straighter, then, and all at once the fool was gone, replaced by a soldier coming back on duty. His eyes narrowed, and he looked hard at me. "Wait, I know that name. You're Duncan's new recruit from Highever. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize."

I couldn't help blinking. "You're Alistair?" Plague on it, girl, what did you expect him to look like? I wondered.

Certainly not like this. For whatever reason, when Duncan had sent me to find the other Grey Warden in the camp, I had been expecting another grim and grizzled veteran, but Alistair was young. Very young. He couldn't be much older than me; I doubted he'd been shaving five years.

"Did Duncan mention me?" he wanted to know. "Nothing bad I hope." He cracked a hopeful smile, and I frowned. Uncanny. For a split second there, it had been as if I looked into someone else's face. I looked more closely at him, trying to place just who it was that this Alistair reminded me of. "As the junior member of the order," he explained, "I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

Leave it, Gwyn. You've a task before you. I bowed again. "I am honored."

Alistair looked me up and down, assessing me. "You know, it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens," he observed, not as if he were worried about it, merely as though it had honestly just struck his attention. "I wonder why that is?"

My father's voice spoke in my head. Don't ever let them sell you short, pup. I taught my little girl to defend her name and her home as well as her brother.

I swallowed. But did you? If Fergus had been there, would you have died, Father?

Nevertheless, I drew our family sword from the double sheath on my hip. I lifted it and turned it smoothly for Alistair to see. He watched silently. "Don't fear for me, ser. I can defend myself, aye, and press an attack as well."

The corners of Alistair's mouth turned up. His frank hazel eyes glinted with appreciation and respect. "I'm getting that impression," he said. I sheathed my sword. "So, I'm curious. Have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?"

I had not, but hearing of them, knowing they were out there in the Wilds, I wondered if by now, Fergus had. What if they slew him, too? I dropped my eyes. "Have you?"

Alistair shifted, and his voice dropped. "When I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another."

There was something. A man that openly confessed to fear before a woman, the acquaintance of five minutes, rather than attempting to boast of his feats. Yet Alistair did not strike me as a coward. I looked him over—his broad shoulders neither stooped nor quivered, and when I looked into his face, he met my gaze without shame. No, if I am any judge of character, when this man met the darkspawn he fought well, and bravely. It occurred to me that Alistair was rather beautiful, actually, with his close-cropped fair hair and open expression, tall and well-formed. Yet I couldn't shake that feeling of familiarity, the haunting sensation that I'd seen him somewhere before, though I well knew we'd never met. This is going to drive me mad.

I'd been staring too long without speaking. The tips of Alistair's ears turned red, and he turned away with a nervous laugh. "Anyhow. Whenever you're ready, let's get back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started."

My face had warmed, too. I was embarrassed to have forgotten my manners so far twice in so short a span. If only I could think who it is he reminds me of! Nevertheless, he was right, so I gestured back toward the main encampment, and Alistair fell into step beside me.

The silence stretched between us. To fill it, I asked, "So what was that argument I saw about?"

Alistair seemed relieved, too, to have something to say. "With the mage? The Circle is here at the king's request," he explained. "And the Chantry doesn't like that one bit. They just love letting mages know how unwelcome they are, which puts me in a bit of an awkward position. You see, I was once a Templar."

I slowed, and looked up at him, feeling guilty I'd blamed him so severely at first. There had hardly been a way he could act that the mage would have welcomed him, then. "That would be awkward," I murmured.

Alistair shrugged. For all he could hardly have helped the confrontation with the mage, he apparently wasn't too bothered by it. "The Chantry raised me until Duncan recruited me six months ago," he went on. "I'm sure the Reverend Mother meant it as an insult, sending me as her messenger, and the mage picked right up on that. I never would've agreed to deliver it, but Duncan says we're all to cooperate and get along. Apparently they didn't get the same speech."

Relations between the Chantry and the mages were hardly a pleasant topic, so I let it go, and asked Alistair instead if he would be helping the other recruits prepare for the Joining as well.

"Daveth and Ser Jory? Yes. They're wandering around the camp somewhere. Have you met them?"

"Yes, both of them."

"That makes things easy then," Alistair said with satisfaction. "They'll both be back with Duncan by now."

"Right then," I said as we approached Duncan's campfire. I shot a glance at my strange, eerily familiar companion. "I look forward to traveling with you," I added, somewhat surprised to find that I was, actually. At the very least, Alistair promised to be interesting.

Alistair blinked down at me. "You do? That's a switch. If you have any questions, just let me know."

I nodded to let him know that I would, and we hailed Duncan so he could tell us all about the Joining.

A/N: Just a little edit of the original. First person reads better for these stories.