entrancelogs | We can laugh and talk, and relearn what we already know

Entry tags:

We can laugh and talk, and relearn what we already know | Closed

Who: Alistair (

fatherlesskind) and Warden Robyn Cousland (

heroica)
Where: First floor, room 30
When: Evening of Tuesday, January 26th
Rating: PG-13 at worst
Summary: Things haven't been going well between the two Wardens but maybe Alistair is ready to change that. Assuming he doesn't make a mess of it.
The Story:

[It's been almost two weeks since the last time he spoke to the Warden - longer since they had an actual serious discussion - and the time has given Alistair a chance to think things over.

(Yes, haha, no wonder it took him so long, very funny. Maker, he doesn't even need Morrigan around any more.)

He finds his way to her door one evening, remembering the route from his single previous visit on the day he first arrived. He hasn't let her know he's coming, just turns up hoping she'll be inside and not off somewhere else for who only knows how long. He wants to do this soon lest he wind up putting it off for even longer so even if she's not here he's prepared to wait for her return. Though he'd really rather it not come to that - if she comes back to find him sitting waiting by the door like a hound wanting his master to let him inside, well that's not the kind of impression he wants to make. He's nervous enough already.

Facing down darkspawn that want to rip his head off is easier than this. There's no time to think then and worry about all the ways he can put his foot in it and say the wrong thing and just embarrass himself like always, no matter what he's trying to do...

Enough. He's no coward. He can do this. It's just talking. Even if he does make a mess of it, all it means is he'll be right back where he started. Not the best outcome but it hasn't been a huge problem so far. Just uncomfortable and awkward and-

No.

Taking a deep breath Alistair squares his shoulders and raps on the door. As he waits for a reply he immediately begins questioning the wisdom of his decision yet again, one hand stuffed in his pocket and fiddling with the peace offering jammed inside. He's not sure he'll go through with it. It's a stupid idea. Childish. She might not even like it.

He's so caught up in doubt he's not listening for sounds coming from inside that might tell him if the Warden is present or if he's going to be stuck waiting out here half the night.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Luckily for Alistair, Robyn is in her room (for once). The other Warden doesn't spend a lot of time there; having lived in the always-busy Highever and then to their tiny camp, she's almost never been alone. Having so much space within her assigned door makes her almost uneasy, and as a result, she spends much more of her time outside, on the grounds, gardens, or woods, or exploring the strange and foreign interior. It has furnishings, people, technologies like she's never seen before, so it's easy to spend day after day poking through its offerings and trying to figure out how they work, to her delight. Not to mention the library, which is filled from top to bottom with tomes of every variety imaginable. She'd happened across one or two in the past whose covers alone had been enough to scandalize her, so that adventure has been a bit more... cautious.

But, yes, today she's on the first floor behind the door of room thirty. When there's a sharp knock on the door, Oren barks in practiced alert, rising from his place in the middle of the floor. Her room had been dressed to be like something straight from Ferelden, a small comfort, though she still is practically a stranger within it for how much time she spends within. Robyn peeks up over her crossbow, which she'd been tending to, and sets it down on a table to move to the door. ]

Hello...? [ She begins, uncertainly, as she opens the door. It's more than a little surprise to see Alistair on the threshold and she allows a look of surprise to blossom. ]

Oh- Good evening. [ Hastily, she brushes back a rogue lock of hair that's fallen from her braids, a tentative smile replacing the surprise. ] Is everything all right?

[ Why else would he visit, if not for some issue? What couldn't he say, or what was he unwilling to say, over the strange communicator devices?

... Not that she's at all unhappy to speak with him in person, of course. ]

[Alistair is jerked out of his thoughts as the door opens, somehow having missed the sound of her hound within. She's here. That's good. He doesn't have to sit around waiting for her. Alistair isn't aware how little time the Warden spends in her room, for all that he's just as reluctant to spend time sitting around alone in his. He's also used to being surrounded by people - a life spent in stables, dormitories and camps - and has seen her around often enough as he explores Wonderland himself that there were opportunities to talk before now but he wanted to keep this private. So here he is.

Now he just needs to do that. Talk. Not normally a problem for him but.

He fidgets as the Warden looks him over in surprise, clearing his throat and nodding quickly.]

Fine. Everything's fine. I just... wanted to talk.

[As opposed to showing up at her door for a game of cards. Right.

He glances back down the hall, half-expecting someone to come along and interrupt them, as unlikely as that is given the size of the mansion. Turning back to face the Warden he nods past her into the room.]

Ah, can I come inside?

[ He says "fine" in the way that people say it when they don't mean it, and he says it twice. She blinks, studying his expression, trying to make heads or tails of it. Finally, she allows the little smile to make another appearance, nodding and stepping aside. ]

Of course. [ Once he passes, she shuts the door. Not far inside is Oren, waiting to see who the stranger is, and because it's someone he met before, he perks up. The mabari trots over to Alistair, wagging his back half, tongue lolling merrily as he circles the Warden and stares up at him expectantly. Robyn's lip quirks upward at the scene, thinking of Calen and (the) Alistair back at home, wondering what her childhood pup would make of the new hound she'd obtained from the magic closets. ]

Can I get you anything? [ She asks politely, picking at her sleeve between pinched fingernails without noticing. ] I don't keep much food here, but I do have water... well, a few of those crunches that Oren likes, but I wouldn't say that it goes well with the water.

[ Her smile buds into a bit of a grin. ]

[Slipping past her into the room Alistair takes it in more carefully now that's he's not distracted by trying to piece together what's going on. It's still a surprise stepping inside, like being back in Ferelden again. He feels like if he looks out a window he should see the bustling streets of Denerim out there. If only it were that simple but it does make him feel more at ease.

A feeling that's helped as her hound comes trotting over to greet him. He can't help smiling, dropping to one knee and offering a hand to be drooled on as they reacquaint themselves. Still watching the hound he shakes his head at the offer, amusement overriding some of his nerves.]

I'll pass on the dog treats. They taste awful.

[Yes, he's tried them. No, he's not saying more than that.

Once he's been sufficiently slobbered on - and had a moment to collect his thoughts - Alistair gets to his feet and turns to face her again.]

So, I've been thinking. And I owe you an apology.

"They taste-" [ And she has to laugh, surprised and warm, because... well. Alistair. Quickly, though, she dips her chin and adjusts to a slighter sort of smile, watching him curiously as he attends to Oren's neediness and gathers his thoughts.

When he speaks, she swallows, again replacing the wayward hair that's escaped from behind her ear. ]

It- You've already apologized, I think. [ He had at Saturnalia, hadn't he? Maybe not in so many words, but they'd seemed to agree that she wasn't a monster, at least. ] After what you said about Aedan, it was... easier to understand, the way you reacted. And I shouldn't have been so forward.

[ Well, it was too soon, when they first met in Wonderland, for her to know better than to express her delight in seeing him (she'd done the same with Morrigan, after all). After that, he'd stumbled across her very personal memory, and... well, it wasn't as if it was in her power to banish the images, either.

Maybe it had been meant to end up this way, somehow. They'd met in turmoil the first time, why not again? ]

... But, thank you. I'm sorry that I was... presumptuous.

[ Where is my treat, Oren seems to say, nudging Alistair hard with his snout. Speaking of presumptuous... ]

[It's easier to do this, to say what he needs to, when she laughs - not at him or not in a way he minds but in a way that makes his own smile come easier, fading only when the unpleasant topic of Aedan comes up. A topic he's quick to move past, waving his hand dismissively at the apology.]

You're not forward. Isabela is forward. And presumptuous. And a lot of other things.

[Even if he's certain Isabela doesn't mean half of what she says and just enjoys making him blush.

The point is, maybe they both made mistakes but that doesn't mean an apology isn't owed for the assumptions he made and the way he acted. It's been difficult for them both, he can recognise that now but he'd like a chance to move past it and be friends. Now if only he can say as much.

Shifting about awkwardly Alistair slips his hand back into his pocket and goes on-] Look, it was confusing for us both and I-

[And that's when Oren chooses to remind Alistair of his presence. Forcefully. He stumbles at the shove, spinning around to glare down at the hound when he's regained his balance.]

Do you mind? I'm trying to talk here. You're not helping.

[Aren't mabari supposed to be smart? Can't they understand what a heart-to-heart is? Or is that a hint to get on with it?]

[ Isabela. She can't help but admit a smile at that, thinking of the pirate and all the advice she'd given. The other woman had actually been an enormous help, having the bonus fact that she's the only other woman from Thedas in the mansion at the moment and that she knows both him and Alistair, whereas most of the others...

Maker, why had it taken her so long to talk to Isabela? And why had she have to be drunk when it happened? ]

She is a lot of things... [ Most of them good, Robyn thinks, tilting her head just a touch to the side. Only vaguely does she wonder what Isabela and Alistair have talked about thus far, but it isn't something that she'll dwell on.

Instead, she returns to the present, watching him with curious interest. He seems to be arriving at his point, but the dog, as he (well, Calen) often had back home, gets in the way. Oren seems to be trying to stuff his face into Alistair's pockets, almost definitely looking for food, and she wonders if he's about to run off with a wedge of cheese. ]

Oren, stop that. [ She looks with a playful sternness at the hound who whines, looking back at her as if to say "but, moooooom!" He does give up the endeavor, though, ears falling as he slumps away and falls dramatically to the floor in a huff, eyeing the pair of them all the while. ]

You were saying? [ Robyn continues brightly, now that another minor issue has been settled. ]

[Alistair snorts, bending down to scratch the hound behind the ears in lieu of a treat. So he's a bit of a soft touch where a pair of literal puppy dog eyes are concerned, who can blame him?]

I'll bring you something next time, OK?

[Straightening he smiles tentatively at the Warden, scrubbing a hand through his hair and clearing his throat.]

As I was saying- Ah. You know, I think I lost track of where I was up to- Oh, wait, got it! Ahem. I owe you an apology. So. I'm sorry. For, well, everything.

[Now that doesn't sound insincere at all. Wincing Alistair digs in his pocket again and quickly closes the distance between them to hold out his clenched fist.]

I wanted to make amends. And I got this and I thought maybe you should have it. So I, ah... I wanted to give it to you. As a token, I guess.

[As the blush creeps up his cheeks he drops a small, stone griffon statue into her hands.]

I just thought, the leader of Ferelden's Grey Warden's should have a-

[It sounded stupid now that he said it. What had he been thinking?]

[ It blindsides her in the kind of way that isn't bad, like when she'd slip out of her tent in their camp and find a thousand starts stretched far out over their heads where there had only been clouds, before. It's the feeling of missing a step going down, but landing safely all the same. Surprised and flattered pink rises into her cheeks, mouth falling open slightly in a genuine, if not slightly comical, expression. ]

"The leader of Ferelden's Grey Wardens?" [ Robyn repeats weakly, with a weak sort of laugh. She draws her hand in to examine the statue closer, wondering where he might have gotten it, what had pushed him to give it to her in return. It's such a funny coincidence, thinking of the times she'd found little odds and ends in their travels and turned them over to the others, Alistair included. But, this... is more than just a physical gift, of course. It doesn't remind her of the person he isn't, because they'd both agreed not to make unjust comparisons, but it does tell her that things are better between the people that they are.

For a second, she remembers how withdrawn and alone she'd felt, resorting to a disastrous evening in the mansion's bar, and how she feels now makes it all completely worth it. ]

Ah- [ The Warden returns to the present in a bit of a fluster, but with a smile, one big and bright and grateful. ] It's wonderful, Alistair, really... thank you. I know just where I'll put it. [ Robyn nods firmly, holding the griffon gingerly, thinking of a table in her room occupied with one other object (a particular rose in a vase of water). ]

Once you realize that you're the senior Warden, though, I won't allow you to take it back.

[ She laughs again, but with more confidence and warmth, settling in to the idea of them as being friendly (friends?), of him thinking enough of her to bring a gift. I wish I could give him something in return... but, then, she'd already, ironically, returned his mother's locket to him in their world. ]

Well. Good. Alright then.

[He sighs, releasing tension he'd barely been aware of. That had gone smoother than he expected. At least he's not the only one blushing like a fool, even if she wears it better than him. He won't resent her too much for it, not when she smiles at him like that, making it impossible not to smile shyly in return.

Alistair can admit to himself that he'd still been expecting something else from her - still been thinking she was someone else, even if he'd been trying not to. It will take more than good intentions to change that completely but he's determined to keep trying until it sticks. Until then remembering this moment will serve as a good reminder that the Warden is her own person and one he thinks he could come to regard as a friend.

He brightens at the jest, reminded of how easily they'd laughed together the last time they spoke on the magic devices. If there's one good way to get past all this awkwardness.]

There go all my plans to make a grab for power! Foiled again!

[Yes, his plans to take command of all three Grey Wardens in Wonderland. Which was still one more than in Ferelden so maybe it was something worth considering. If him leading anyone weren't a guarantee that they'd spend the rest of their lives stuck here which sort of left the whole Blight as an issue.

And speaking of Ferelden's Wardens-]

While we're discussing who's the best Warden here, have you met Anders yet?

[ The smile is encouraging and her stomach does a little, almost joyful flip. Despite herself, she laughs again, feeling fairly foolish but unable to be anything but happy about this interaction. She's trying to keep things normal, though, to some extent, and so she hastily clears her throat and clasps the griffon in her hands, behind her back. ]

I thought you had a scheming look about you. [ She can tell, you fiend. Robyn's smile is a little more tempered now, though no less earnest. ] Though, unless you've brought along a darkspawn with you that I don't know about, I'm afraid there won't be much in the way of recruitment or conscription here in Wonderland.

[ Not that they need more Wardens, or... hopefully they won't need more. ]

No, I haven't. Somehow, he's been evasive enough that I haven't caught up with him. [ Despite the sort of low thrumming that she feels in her blood, the signal of other Grey Wardens in the area. ] Have you spoken with him? I hope you haven't been told more of our future Ferelden; I've heard so many stories of what's meant to happen that it makes my head spin.

[ Surely he feels the same, having come from about the same time, before the end of the Blight, and hearing about being king at every turn. ]

That does put a crimp in my plans. I'll just have to come up with a new scheme to conquer Wonderland!

[And just like that, awkwardness (mostly) gone. Wasn't that nice and simple? And to think his teachers used to tell him his mouth would only cause trouble.

Although maybe they had a point as he's reminded of the particulars of his first meeting with Anders. That rather ruins the good mood. And he can't even blame someone else for starting it.]

He did tell me a few things about what happens after the Blight is over - and why does everyone but us think that's the case already? [It just doesn't seem fair somehow.] I don't know about head spinning but they do make fighting an archdemon seem like the simple part.

[And he can't say that and not explain, can he? The question is where to start? No, scratch that, he knows exactly where to start.]

A lot of it was crazy - intelligent darkspawn kind of crazy. Talking, Blight-starting, intelligent darkspawn crazy.

[So maybe it was better the Warden hadn't run into him yet, given what else she might have heard from the others.]

First it was 'rule over the Wardens,' and now it's 'conquer Wonderland?' Well, you're very ambitious, I'll give you that.

[ She hums a little laugh, but hearing about what the third Warden had to say has the smile fade a bit into a more thoughtful, questioning look. ]

I think because... for them, it's happened. [ What she doesn't say is something that's recently occurred to her, that if each of their worlds can have a different Warden, or a different Alistair, then it may be not all of them have a happy end to the Blight. ] But I do agree that it'd help us to know how we're meant to have defeated the Archdemon. Not any of them were there for that, after all.

[ Not Brennan, Dorian, Hawke, Isabela, or Anders, she guesses. So, no matter what they say about the final battle, they weren't, and won't be, there to see how it happens.

She sets that thought aside, completely floored by what he says next, eyes widening dramatically. ]

Intelligent darkspawn? [ And talking? Her brows pinch together in disbelief and she shakes her head. ] I know they... 'talk' in their shared mind, or whatever it is, but I always thought it was only... you know, evil babbles, monster muttering... [ Robyn shifts her weight, hands back at her front, gently turning the griffon over from hand to hand absent-mindedly. ] Are you sure that he meant talk talk?

That's me.

[Ambitious. Yes, that's him in a word. Loads of ambition.]

Lucky them. [Not so much the pair of them but what can they do? As she's already pointed out they can't even get any specifics on how the Blight is ended so there's little they can do to make ready beyond what they've already done.] So long as we don't need to defeat it by all holding hands and singing a song to the Maker. I might let the darkspawn win in that case. Just the thought of what Sten's singing would be like makes me feel ill.

[If only he could joke as easily about Anders' story. With a grimace Alistair slumps back against the wall, watching the Warden toy with the little stone griffon. He can remember just as well as she must what the darkspawn's normal 'talk' sounds like and what the archdemon does too. Neither exactly make for good conversation but Anders had made it sound like that's exactly what this thing he'd spoken of could do.

Well, maybe not good conversation.]

Yes, he was pretty clear on that. Talk-talking darkspawn. Gave itself a name and everything. That's what he said. [He sounds defensive even to himself as he says it, quick to add-] I'm not saying I believe it... But what if it is true?

[He hardly needs to explain to the only other person here who's been right in the middle of the Blight just how bad it would be if the darkspawn started becoming smart all on their own without an archdemon to direct them.]

...And that wasn't even the worse bit. [Yes it gets worse.] Maybe I should have brought you a bottle instead.

Oh, I don't know... we do have a bard who could lead the rest of us in what's sure to be a painful attempt.

[ She's only ever really heard Leliana sing; some of the others she's caught humming, but nothing like when the redhead had sung for them in camp. Robyn smiles softly at the memory, missing her close friend for the umpteenth time. ]

Talk-talking darkspawn. [ With a name. Robyn repeats it and sighs; it sounds ridiculous and absolutely something to be concerned over, but who is she to doubt another's story? Given her experiences, and everything she's heard... just about anything could be said to happen in Thedas' future and she would have to accept it at face value.

The Warden gently sets the gift down on a nearby table, offering a faint smile for Alistair. ]

I prefer what you did bring me. [ And she's learned her lesson about irresponsible drinking, thankyouverymuch. ] But... if you do want something, there are the closets. You wouldn't even need to leave for the kitchen, if you'll only tell me what you want.

[ She gestures briefly to one of the magic closets in question if he puts in an order. In the meantime: ]

Go on, then. I've got a stronger threshold for crazy lately than you might think.

[Alistair ducks his head, trying to hide the blush and the small, pleased smile her words prompt. When it's put like that he figures they can manage without drinking, even if he hasn't gotten into quite the trouble she has with it. He had gotten the story from Anders whilst sober.]

Nah, I'll be fine. Someone advised me against getting food from those things.

[Not that it's stopped him trying once or twice but they had.]

I'll bet you do.

[Everyone brought here must get used to crazy sooner or later. Otherwise they'd go crazy. Or maybe they all already had.]

Sooo this talking darkspawn. He said it might have been able to make others like it. And it started the Blight in the first place. And - here's the really good bit - it escaped the Wardens and is still running loose as far as he knows.

[So great news all around.]

You'd think stopping a Blight would be the hard bit, not what happens after.

[ She (discretely) notices his reaction and has a similar one of her own, masking as quickly as she can a mirrored expression. It's difficult to not be happy when he smiles, particularly when it's because of something she'd done. Too recently they'd just argued or ignored each other, and this... is close enough to how they'd interacted back in Thedas that her heart flutters a little.

Be a Warden, not a little girl. Not that she can help how she feels, even now, but.

Robyn clears her throat lightly, forcing her mind to return to the actually very serious topic of conversation. ]

Brilliant. [ Talking darkspawn that makes others and begins Blights. Which is running loose, or... will run loose, depending on the semantics. The Warden smiles thinly, wearily, sighing as an immediate reaction. ] Well, I can top your bad news, then... considering that, once we go back to Ferelden, we won't remember any of this. So, no matter what we learn about this talking darkspawn, we won't be able to do a thing about it. Once we're returned, we've got no way of preparing.

[ They still have more than enough on their plates, but this is... concerning, to say the least.

Robyn smiles sideways, now, at Alistair. ]

Stopping a single Blight isn't enough these days, it seems. [ What a massive shame that is. ] The modern Grey Warden must defeat the Archdemon and then track down the very source of Blights in order to truly be respected within the order, is that it?

[A pity he was too busy looking at his feet to notice the look on her face, but then they don't both need to be standing around smiling like idiots - or an idiot and someone else - when they're supposed to be having a serious discussion about serious Warden business.]

I didn't realise we were competing. Can't you just let me win?

[If he hasn't already. Can anything really top intelligent, Blight-starting darkspawn? Really?

....OK, yes, apparently it can.]

Nothing? How can you be sure? I thought we couldn't escape from here. [That's what it had sounded like to him.] So how can you know that we just forget it all? ...How do we just forget it all?

[Tampering with people's memories sounds like blood magic but was it really possible to make someone forget that much?

Right. He's talking to a different version of a person he knows in a magic house in a magic land so far removed from Ferelden the only people who have even heard of it are the ones from there. Never mind. Brain-wiping it is!

But he does have some good news. In a way.]

We can't be getting lazy now. Wardens have stopped Blights in the past. Saving the world just doesn't impress people any more. But if it makes you feel better - I hear Ward- I hear you get a fancy title when it's all done.

[Or he's guessing she will. If one Warden Cousland got to be called a capital-H Hero for stopping the Blight then it only made sense they both would. As much as sense applied in this kind of situation.]

Edited 2016-02-05 11:26 (UTC)

Not this time. [ Maybe another day he'll have worse news than her. Considering that he's spoken with Anders and she hasn't, there may be more to the story than she knows, yet. Though... talking, intelligent, organized darkspawn on the loose had been pretty bad, to be honest. ]

Well, we can't escape. [ Not exactly. ] Sometimes, though, people vanish for a week or so; Dorian did, and when he came back, he'd been in Thedas for much longer than the time that he was gone, here. He had new memories, and he seemed... a little older.

[ A lot had happened, the way she understands it, though she doesn't have the details. ]

Or, sometimes, they vanish forever. Like Morrigan.

[ Though she doesn't suspect he'll be sad to have missed the apostate. ]

Wonderland has some strange power over memories. [ She continues, brows twitching downward. ] It uses them as power, I think, at least to some degree. But, they say when you're sent back home, for however much time, you forget everything about this mansion while you're there. If you don't return, then it's gone, forever.

[ Not that she knows firsthand; Robyn hasn't left Wonderland since her arrival in the late summer. ]

Ah, that. [ The exasperation and mild weariness is palpable. ] I've heard: the Hero of Ferelden. If I'm being honest, I absolutely abhor the title, not to mention that I've neither earned it and would happily offer it to any of the number of people who actually made it possible to gather the forces we have to take on the horde.

[ Maker knows that she doesn't want to be called a hero, not at all, especially, if the others were overlooked for having done, in her opinion, much, much more than she ever will. ]

[Well no, he's not the least bit upset to hear Morrigan is gone. But the rest of what she's saying is as unnerving as anything - much worse than talking darkspawn even.]

We just come and go without any control over it? [Alright, he knew the first half of that already. And he'd heard mention of people disappearing again once before but not coming right back a week later and older. That's just... weird.] How do you know people who disappear don't just wind up somewhere else? With their minds getting scrambled so they just think they remember new things. Or just stay there if they don't come back.

[It just seems so strange - they get brought in for no apparent reason and then maybe tossed back out without ever remembering it happened? And all because-] You're saying this place eats memories. [Gross. And creepy.] Are you sure? I mean, really, really sure?

[If she is then how do they know they haven't already had memories eaten? How can a place need to eat at all? Why memories? All questions he's so not equipped to be able to answer since he's pretty sure he'd get as far as 'it's magic' and be stuck. This is why he's not in charge of anyone around here, no matter what the future might hold

Disturbing topics aside, Alistair has to grin at her expression when the matter of the Warden's title comes up. So that's not news to her but that just makes it more amusing.]

It has a nice ring to it. [So long as it's attached to someone else. Privately he can admit he'd hate it equally if it were his. But it's more fun to tease her over it. If he's going to be accused of being a king she can deal with being called a Hero.] ...Your Hero-ness. Or is it Your Fereldeness? Which would you prefer?

That is what they say, though the only one I really know who's experienced it is Dorian, as I said. [ She smiles weakly, then utters a little sigh, distractedly sweeping back some of the loosening braid from her face. ] I haven't gotten the impression that you might be sent back to the wrong... ah, Thedas, but it does seem to be true that Wonderland is... temporary.

[ That is, she'll return to an Alistair who knows her and won't remember the one who doesn't. He'll return to a Warden Cousland who he doesn't get along with and won't remember the one with whom he does. ]

I'm not sure they're eaten, exactly; it isn't a monster. [ Close enough, though, she thinks with faint bitterness. ] But I've yet to experience it myself, no. You've seen for yourself how much power it has, drawing us in from not only one other world, but... dozens.

[ A handful of different versions of Thedas, and beyond that, countless worlds that belong to the other residents. ]

I much prefer "Your Fereldeness," thank you very much. [ Robyn wrinkles her nose at him, happy for the banter despite the memory conversation that's twinged with worry. ] And what do I call you? I can imagine you're sick to death of hearing Your Majesty, Your Highness, and King Alistair, so I'll give you the same chance to choose a less infuriating title, if you like.

That's lucky. Can you imagine if I did go back to the wrong Ferelden? You might be stuck with two of me!

[And wouldn't that be a terrible fate?

Jokes (reluctantly) aside, it's almost reassuring to know he needn't worry about never finding his way back. There's still some uncertainty - she said she hasn't gotten the impression that it happens, not that it definitely doesn't. But it's better than nothing. Meeting his sort-of-twin would just be awkward, no matter how much it might sound like her Ferelden could be the preferable one.]

It drags us here, shows us things that seem impossible then eats our memories of them and sends us home. Makes perfect sense.

[Honestly, even if he does remember any of this when - if - he gets back to Ferelden, Alistair is certain he'll just dismiss it all as some strange dream. So eating his memories - yes, he's sticking with that now - is just a bit excessive.]

Hmmm, as much as I like the sound of 'Alistair the Handsomest, Wittiest and Most Charming of All'.... How about just 'Alistair'? [He's still grinning, more than happy to dispense with formalities it seems they both don't care for.] Alistair and-?

[Being 'Warden' or 'Warden Cousland' - or even Your Fereldeness, as nice as that one sounds - all the time must get as tiresome as all the king business. It's only fair he extend her the same courtesy she's giving him.]

Edited 2016-02-10 07:13 (UTC)

Two? [ Oh, she can't help it; there's a sheepish, almost sly smile. Someone more bold and flirtatious might point out the benefits of having two, but... she isn't that person, and most of all, she doesn't want to scare him off. Instead, she just clears her throat lightly, not pointing out that she would be perfectly happy with any number of Alistairs in their party.

It could get fairly loud, though. ]

Of course it does. [ Her lip twitches now in amusement. ] Just as much sense as talking darkspawn and alternate Thedases, don't you think?

[ It doesn't get much stranger than where they are now, with everything that's happened so far. Robyn chews lightly on her lip, thinking, but laughs briefly at his suggestion for himself... until he changes it, and asks for her own preference. Well, that's something. ]

Robyn. [ She supplies, with a faint smile. ] If "Your Fereldeness" is too much of a mouthful, then "Robyn" would be... perfect.

[Not the aghast horror he was expecting at the idea, that. Even taking into account goo-goo eyes. Wouldn't that make it more awkward, not knowing who to make eyes at? If she got the wrong one it would be a little weird and he's not sure he wants to get jealous of himself...

On the other hand, he could annoy the rest of the party twice as much! It might almost be worth it.]

When you put it like that you make home sound a lot stranger than it is. You should see the looks I get when I tell people here, in the magic mansion, about the dragons. [Like dragons aren't real. Which they apparently aren't for some people. But it's still not that weird to have actual dragons flying about.] There was one guy who told me something about dragons sacrificing virgins to free some kind of demon-thing where he's from. Now that's what I call weird!

[Practically beaming now he nods. Yes, she'd given her name when they first met but that was sort of the point. At the time he hadn't wanted the familiarity it implied. If they're (maybe, hopefully) going to be friends though?]

Alright. Robyn. When we're being informal. And Your Heroic Fereldeness on special occasions.

Well, the only dragon we've seen is an Archdemon- [ Wait. Her brow flickers at confusion, and then she amends what she'd said: ] Er, and... Flemeth. Did you all go back and... do that? Fight her, that is?

[ Based on how he'd described Aedan, she doubts he'd risk his own life at Morrigan's request, but. ]

Sacrificing what? [ Now she just looks bemused, but she smiles, unsure, and shakes her head. ] That is strange. What would dragons do with demons, anyway? And why virgins?

[ Other worlds are just as strange as Wonderland, and... as their own, she supposes, trying to consider it from an outsider's perspective. Really, it isn't so hard; Thedas is a big and bizarre place, sometimes, and she's still only ever seen Ferelden. ]

Just "Your Fereldeness," thank you; I'm finished with the "Hero"... thing.

[ Please, no more of that. Surely he of all people understands.

Which reminds her. Robyn sobers a bit, blinking toward him, considering. ]

... On the subject, [ She begins, a little more seriously, ] I wanted to say that... we're both still from before the Landsmeet, aren't we? So, I think you should hear it, that... you don't have to be king. No matter what the others have said, they don't have anything to do with it, do they? And they don't have the final say in what will or won't happen.

[ The Warden knits her brows, looking at him seriously. Oren nudges Alistair heavily with his head. ]

I don't mean to overstep. [ She adds quickly. ] But I hate the feeling that whatever the lot of them say is... inevitable. And, really, I don't think that it is. You're the only one who can decide what you'll do when it's time.

Don't forget 'Andraste' at the- [Hang on a minute, did she just say-] Wait, Flemeth? Flemeth was a dragon? ...Er, could turn into a dragon?

[At least Morrigan never learned that trick. He shudders just to think of it.]

Now I'm really glad we just lied to Morrigan about killing her. [Not that he hadn't liked tricking her in the first place but knowing that it had also saved them needing to fight another dragon sure helped.]

That's what I wanted to know! And how they could even tell the difference.

[Really, it was weird. Dragons and virgins. Much stranger than shape-changing witches.]

Fine, Your Most Fereldeness.

[He understands the desire to avoid titles like Hero, sure. But it's funny when it happens to other people. And needling her is more enjoyable than having an actual serious discussion. Like this one.]

I don't know. I don't want to argue with what they have to say too much. It might mean saying no to the Blight stopping as well and I'd rather that was inevitable. [Alistair falls quiet for a moment, absently crouching down so he can scratch Oren behind the ears.] I don't know what to do about the Landsmeet to be honest. I've been trying not to think about it. [He smiles wryly. Because ignoring his problems has usually worked out so well.] I don't trust Anora. She's been letting her father do whatever he pleases and not even trying to stop the Blight ever since Ostagar.

[Turning back to than meet Robyn's gaze he finishes off quietly-] But you have to know I wasn't raised for that sort of thing. What if I make a mess of it?

She could. ... Can, actually; Hawke told me she managed to survive, which, I'm sure, doesn't surprise you. Though it is frustrating, given that it means she must have let us 'win' on purpose.

[ It's better than dying, of course, but Robyn doesn't like feeling as if she's a pawn in someone's greater game. The Warden scrunches up her nose, a little soured by the talk of Flemeth, but... when they settle on the matter of him as king, she adjusts, smiling kindly. ]

I'm not sure how I feel about Anora, either. I think she would do the right thing, in the end, even if it meant turning against her father, but... I know that she's very smart and I believe, ultimately, her goal is to be queen.

[ At any cost, perhaps. Robyn has a guarded respect for the other woman, but like Alistair, she doesn't trust the queen. ]

You wouldn't make a mess of it. [ She says firmly. ] I saw dozens of nobles and lords pass through on business with my father and most of them were selfish and lazy at best. His Majesty- [ Robyn pauses, chewing on her lip for a split second, then flashing him an apologetic look. ] King Cailan was, and I hope you'll forgive this... not nearly as good a ruler as his half-brother might be. He had the conviction, but things were as in a story to him. You have the experience of a Warden, and with the Blight... I think Ferelden needs that wisdom more than ever.

[ Not to mention all the personal characteristics that had first endeared him to her, but she isn't going to cross any uncomfortable lines, if she can help it. ]

But, that wasn't my point. [ She adds quickly, shaking her head. ] Yes, I think you would be an excellent king beloved by your people, but that doesn't mean you should. Not if the idea... makes you more miserable than it does excited. Nervousness and apprehension are different things.

[ Feeling as though she's been a bit rant-y, the Warden eyes the other with some trepidation. ]

I only meant that you have a choice, no matter what you've heard.

So there's one thing we did that's not so bad.

[Since it made no difference in the end, avoiding a fight with a huge dragon seems like a good choice. Maybe one of the only ones made by the other Warden Cousland but he'll take what he can get.

Dropping his gaze back down to watch Oren rather meet her eyes, he listens to Robyn speak, taking his time before answering.]

I.... It means a lot to me. That you feel that way. I don't know if I agree with you about the beloved bit - except maybe where the cheesemakers are concerned - but... Thank you. For saying it.

[Both that she believed he could do it and that she actually cared what he wanted. Both were uncommon enough that hearing it sent a warm curl of gratitude through him. Maybe she was thinking of the him she knew when she said that but the sentiment remained the same.

Even if he wonders if what he wants is all that important in this case. His duty is to stop the Blight. By any means. Everything else is secondary to that. Anora seems to have done alright as queen before the Blight, but Loghain had seemed trustworthy before then too and look how that turned out. Maybe she'd stay true to her word and support the Wardens if she stayed on the throne. Or maybe she'd turn on them too. It's a big risk to take for something so important.

This isn't the time to think about it all. He can figure it out later, so long as he's here he has time.]

I'll think about what you said but- [Alistair looks up again, smiling faintly.] I can't promise it's going to change what I do at the Landsmeet. Magic, memory-eating, Warden-napping mansion and all. But I'll tie a piece of string around my finger to remind me. And wonder why it's there when I get back.

[It's a little depressing to think that anything that happens here could just be forgotten if he gets back home. Like it doesn't matter and neither do the people he meets here. But it's still worth talking about what might happen when they get back, even with that possibility.]

Edited 2016-02-14 09:21 (UTC)

[ She doesn't push the point that she knows the people would love him, not only for his Theirin blood, valuable as it is, but for his personality. Though she'd like to, she's trying to be a little more subtle on the Feelings front, and just admits a little smile in lieu of expressing her feelings on the matter. ]

I know. You may not remember my saying it when the time comes, but I hoped it might set your mind a little more at ease now.

[ Even if it doesn't matter later, they'll still be in Wonderland for... well, some indeterminate amount of time. Better to worry less about the things not currently in their control, especially with one so big as the Landsmeet looming over their heads.

Robyn watches as he looks down at Oren, and the dog, sensing a trend, turns up to Robyn. She laughs lightly, forever impressed by the intelligence of their beloved dogs. ]

Well, you never asked for a speech, I don't think. So, without further encouraging, you're welcome to go, or... stay, or whatever you like. You did me a favor bringing me a gift, I can hardly keep you as my prisoner and talk the day away, after that.

[ Things haven't been too painful, she doesn't think, but there's always the chance that she'll run her mouth and say something embarrassing and put him out. And they'd been doing so well!

... Though, she also doesn't want to seem as if she's chasing him away. The Warden clears her throat, smiling politely, despite the battle for etiquette that's raging in her head. ]

[It's something to think about at least. And who knows? Maybe even if he doesn't remember this conversation or anything else that happens here some part of it will remain with him when he returns to Ferelden. It will have still happened, with or without him remembering it.

Giving Oren one last scratch he gets to his feet, nodding in agreement.]

Right. I, ah- I didn't ask if I was interrupting anything, did I? I'll go, let you get back to it. [Rather than make for the door, Alistair stands there, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.] But maybe later we could... talk some more? Not about anything in particular. Just. Get to know each other. It's been weird, not tripping over the same people in camp everyday and getting on each other's nerves and constantly tramping all over the place. I don't know what to do with myself half the time.

[It's true though not the only reason. But she's not the only one worried about saying the wrong thing and making it uncomfortable between them again. He'd rather not ruin everything after this has gone so well.]

So maybe we could see if we get on each other's nerves without the weirdness being to blame?

Edited 2016-02-17 11:02 (UTC)

[ She doesn't add that he hadn't been interrupting much more than her cleaning her crossbow (little use though it gets), and just nods, smiling amiably. ]

I'd like that. [ Robyn chirps, never mind the way her heart ka-thuds in her chest. You gave him your word you wouldn't think of him that way, didn't you? ] I know what you mean. Things in Ferelden were so... focused, really. We always seemed to have a task or two and never any time to think. Here... sometimes, I think there may be a bit too much time.

[ Time to wonder if you are who you think you are, for example. ]

You can come by anytime, Alistair. [ She adds earnestly, but not emphatically. ] Or, you can try and send me a message on the... you know, the little box, but I can't promise I'll know exactly what to do with it. I haven't mastered that particular skill, yet.

[ That last bit has her smile growing and she nods again, laughing lightly. ]

I'll do my best to get on your nerves in a very normal, non-weird way. [ Or, something. ]

Exactly! Even I don't need this much time for thinking.

[Even when he'd been a boy in Redcliffe there had always been chores to do. Now he barely has anything to fill his time with and he finds himself at a loss some days. At least she has some idea of what she's getting herself into with an open invitation like that, given he'll definitely be taking advantage of it.

Not so much the offer to talk to her on the magic box though. That could prove difficult for them both, given how unfamiliar the thing is. A personal touch is much better anyway and less likely to leave him babbling away at entirely the wrong person.]

I'll come visit then. When you least expect it. And we'll see who gets on whose nerves!

[In a completely normal way, sure.

Making his way over to the door he glances back with a smile.] I'll see you later.

[And he slips out, feeling considerably more at ease than he had coming here.]

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