warden robyn cousland (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heroica) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-04-25 12:26 pm
heroica) wrote in entrancelogs2016-04-25 12:26 pm
( open ) they'll name a city after us
Who: Robyn Cousland and YOU
Where: Tenth floor, room 030 (the chapel) & the forest clearing. You can also catch her traveling to and from those locations!
When: April 27th
Rating: PG/PG-13 for mild language and talk of death
Summary: Not long after being told that she's going to die in her own world, the Warden was bitten by one of the Infected and then died to prevent turning. A week after she returns, she has to face that truth in a much more concrete way than before.
The Story:
[ Those who were said to find peace in their dying moments and in death were lucky. They were not Robyn, dead once now, dead twice at the least when everything is said and done. It had been bloody and cold and cruel from beginning to end, when their would-be safe house was overrun by people who were said to be still living, but transformed by a parasite. It had been too similar to the darkspawn, the blight, and the taint, and when she'd been bitten, she'd half-expected the poison already in her blood to overcome the new. Maybe they did battle for control: it certainly felt that way, how her veins burned and her wound worsened more quickly than she could have imagined. She would have become one of them, but she would never let that happen, just as the Grey Wardens kept from becoming ghouls by opting for deaths of their own choosing. She had meant to do it herself, but in the end, she hadn't even been able to manage that. If Leliana hadn't found her... would she have let herself turn?
Robyn keeps to her room until she can't stand it, climbing the walls and positively manic with the angst of it all. In a restless haze, she tears through the mansion's halls, making eye contact with no one, barely aware of her legs carrying her out and away. The Warden stalks through the grass of the grounds, mabari at her heels (whining softly in confusion and compassion) until she arrives at a clearing that another Warden had pointed out to her weeks and weeks ago. She withdraws her dagger and flings it at one of the training dummies, but her hands are shaking and it misses her mark, lodging itself in the lower half of the thing. She drops the crossbow from her back, holding it in her hands and raised toward the dummy, but she changes her mind and lets the weapon fall, dropping down with it. The crossbow lands with a soft thump in the grass and the Warden herself lies on her back, staring up at the canopy of trees, hair fanned out against the grass. She doesn't cry: all noises are caught up in the lump in her throat. Oren lays down at her side, curling against her, occasionally licking her hand.
Later, after hours have passed, she leaves. Slowly, mechanically, she gathers up her dagger and her crossbow and leaves the clearing, moving back to the mansion when the sun is still high in the sky. Doors and halls and people are just as much the blurs that they'd been in the morning, and eventually she makes it up to the top of the mansion, just below the roof. Gently, she sets down all of her weapons at the entrance of the chapel that she'd helped to create for purposes like these, and she lays a hand on the back pew, staring hard at the not-so-distant wall. Eventually, Robyn moves to the front, kneeling and then sitting back, eyes shut tight and hands clasped right in front of her face. ]
"... The fear of death is in your eyes; its hand is upon your throat. Raise your voices to the heavens! Remember: not alone do we stand on the field of battle..."
Where: Tenth floor, room 030 (the chapel) & the forest clearing. You can also catch her traveling to and from those locations!
When: April 27th
Rating: PG/PG-13 for mild language and talk of death
Summary: Not long after being told that she's going to die in her own world, the Warden was bitten by one of the Infected and then died to prevent turning. A week after she returns, she has to face that truth in a much more concrete way than before.
The Story:
[ Those who were said to find peace in their dying moments and in death were lucky. They were not Robyn, dead once now, dead twice at the least when everything is said and done. It had been bloody and cold and cruel from beginning to end, when their would-be safe house was overrun by people who were said to be still living, but transformed by a parasite. It had been too similar to the darkspawn, the blight, and the taint, and when she'd been bitten, she'd half-expected the poison already in her blood to overcome the new. Maybe they did battle for control: it certainly felt that way, how her veins burned and her wound worsened more quickly than she could have imagined. She would have become one of them, but she would never let that happen, just as the Grey Wardens kept from becoming ghouls by opting for deaths of their own choosing. She had meant to do it herself, but in the end, she hadn't even been able to manage that. If Leliana hadn't found her... would she have let herself turn?
Robyn keeps to her room until she can't stand it, climbing the walls and positively manic with the angst of it all. In a restless haze, she tears through the mansion's halls, making eye contact with no one, barely aware of her legs carrying her out and away. The Warden stalks through the grass of the grounds, mabari at her heels (whining softly in confusion and compassion) until she arrives at a clearing that another Warden had pointed out to her weeks and weeks ago. She withdraws her dagger and flings it at one of the training dummies, but her hands are shaking and it misses her mark, lodging itself in the lower half of the thing. She drops the crossbow from her back, holding it in her hands and raised toward the dummy, but she changes her mind and lets the weapon fall, dropping down with it. The crossbow lands with a soft thump in the grass and the Warden herself lies on her back, staring up at the canopy of trees, hair fanned out against the grass. She doesn't cry: all noises are caught up in the lump in her throat. Oren lays down at her side, curling against her, occasionally licking her hand.
Later, after hours have passed, she leaves. Slowly, mechanically, she gathers up her dagger and her crossbow and leaves the clearing, moving back to the mansion when the sun is still high in the sky. Doors and halls and people are just as much the blurs that they'd been in the morning, and eventually she makes it up to the top of the mansion, just below the roof. Gently, she sets down all of her weapons at the entrance of the chapel that she'd helped to create for purposes like these, and she lays a hand on the back pew, staring hard at the not-so-distant wall. Eventually, Robyn moves to the front, kneeling and then sitting back, eyes shut tight and hands clasped right in front of her face. ]
"... The fear of death is in your eyes; its hand is upon your throat. Raise your voices to the heavens! Remember: not alone do we stand on the field of battle..."
Clearing
He sees Oren first, the bulk of the hound impossible to miss as he approaches through the trees. From there his eyes find Robyn, stretched out on the ground. It makes his heart clench, remembering the last time he'd seen her, the bloodied bite mark from one of those creatures a death sentence he could do nothing to prevent. The feeling passes as he sees her chest rise and fall reassuringly as she breathes. Of course she's alive, as alive as he is but still struggling with what happened too, surely.
Maybe he should leave her in peace. If she wanted company she could have come to see him.
...She might not want company but she looks like she might need it. And he wouldn't object to it himself. Any kind of distraction will do and if it cheers them both up all the better. An idea begins to form as he remembers when he brought her out here the first time and it quickly becomes a plan. An impulsive plan but a plan all the same.
She must have heard him coming so he doesn't need to worry about startling her and getting a dagger to his face, so Alistair just pads over to join her. Dropping to his knees at Robyn's side he sets aside his sword and shield and looks down at her with a small smile.]
Hi.
[Rather than comment on why she's out here alone or anything about the last time they saw each other he simply holds out his hand to help her up.]
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It had passed, or had... lessened. Then, she'd had to leave, to stalk the halls and get out of her room, out of her own head, and... here she is. Here they are. Of course Alistair would find her, because this had been his place of refuge, after all, and... though she wants to, she can't feel bad for occupying it. It's relaxing and reassuring, somehow, just as he'd said, and lying in the grass is easier than anything else at the moment.
When he offers his hand, instead of rising up and taking it, she slips her hand in his and gently tugs him downward, silently asking him to join her in the grass. ]
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I'm glad you're- [OK isn't the right word because she's clearly not and he wouldn't expect her to be. But maybe-] Still here. I was scared I'd never see you again.
[Oh he'd heard stories about the things that Wonderland could do to them, what was possible here. But it's one thing to hear it and another to believe it. And he doesn't think anyone could blame him for not believing until he saw it - felt it - himself. And even then, there had been the gnawing fear that Robyn wouldn't have come back and might have disappeared forever as people are wont to do. He doesn't want to lose any of the friends he's made here if he can avoid it, even knowing that once they figure out a way he'll have to go back to his Ferelden alone.
So it's a relief to see her and know that whatever else happened they're both still here. Now, if they can just find a way to forget anything bad ever happened it would be even better.]
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Robyn releases his hand, folding both of her own over her middle as she lies in the grass at his side. Words begin to form up, the news preparing to spill out, though she'd kept herself from saying it since Leliana's arrival, but... she can't bring herself to stop them. The timing seems right, somehow. ]
I'm to die fighting the archdemon. [ The Warden states, voice soft, but not wavering. She's had time to adjust to this news, but it hasn't been smooth or easy or clean. There's still a heavy, underlying fear that she can't shake, that she'll likely never be able to shake. It's anticipation after being faced with an unquestionable truth. ]
A real death. [ She continues, unable to look at him for fear of even more heavy remorse and grief building. ] Leliana told me when she arrived and I tried to... to push that knowledge away, but since I was killed here, it's all seemed so much more real. I'm terrified.
[ Afraid to die. Afraid to leave her friends, family and the other Warden who does remember her behind. The spymaster's words about what happened after, of the tomb at Weisshaupt and the dispersal of their group and the mourning of those she'd been (of those she is) close with-- it all makes her feel sick with heartache. ]
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In a way it shouldn't come as a surprise. He knows that when they finally face the archdemon it will be the most difficult battle any of them have fought before and that it will be a miracle if every one of their band makes it out alive. But he'd started to take it for granted, as much as were possible, that they'd both live through their respective battles. Everyone from Thedas who thinks the Blight over has known who he is and isn't the least surprised to see him alive. If he's alive then why not his fellow Warden?
And then there's the whole Hero of Ferelden thing. ...Someone can still be declared a hero after they died - just look at Garahel after he ended the Fourth Blight. But. It hadn't sounded like they were talking about a dead hero - Nathaniel had even claimed to know Robyn and been recruited by her after the Blight ended. And he'd said it was her and not just a Warden with the same name. It didn't make sense for him to have lied about it.
But Leliana wouldn't lie either. And she also knows Robyn. Out of the two of them, Leliana is the one he trusts. He's only met Nathaniel once while he's known Leliana for much longer and she's always been trustworthy.
Robyn is going to die. In, what? A few months at best? After the Landsmeet there will be little else left to do to prepare. They need only find and face the archdemon.
There's nothing he can say to that. No words that are enough to encompass how it must feel to know that, how it feels to hear it. Of course she's scared, who wouldn't be? And there's nothing he can say. Even the tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, they can still change things is inadequate.
All he can do is reach out, grab her shoulder and tug insistently, wanting her to sit up so he can wrap his arms around her. It's a paltry comfort but it's all he has to give.]
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I know that you survive. [ She begins, after some time, turning her face sideways to speak so that he can hear, but not yet drawing back. ] That Leliana survives, that all the others do. I know that the Blight ends and that Ferelden is safe again. So many already have sacrificed themselves for our cause and I... am proud to be able to be part of that number, to do right by the Wardens and Ferelden.
[ Finally, she pulls away, still sitting up but again enforcing her self-made boundaries, clutching the hand that had been wrapped around him to the front of her shirt. ]
But, that doesn't make it any easier. [ Robyn admits, because he deserves her honesty, considering she'd been the one to bring up this... trial. The Warden slowly shakes her head, looking away, looking tired as she stares at the target dummy opposite where they'd been lying down. ]
I'm sorry. [ She says softly. ] I didn't want to tell you, but I-- It was a moment of weakness. This is my burden to bear, not yours.
[ Having seen the pain of it in Leliana's eyes had been more than enough. She can't apologize for giving her life, one day, for their cause, but she can feel the wracking guilt of leaving her friends behind. ]
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I know. I've heard the same thing. [From everyone, but more importantly, from people who know of the same Warden Cousland he does. At this point his survival feels as close to certain as it's possible to be. And it will be a relief later to have some assurance that all of the others survive as well. He doesn't want any of their travelling companions to have to die to save Ferelden. To stop the Blight. Which he's likewise been told by everyone else from Thedas will happen, that Ferelden will survive. These are all things he'd heard before and been glad to accept without argument. But now.
The loss of one Warden should be small, compared to everything that they could have lost and everything that already has been lost. They're Wardens. If they have to sacrifice themselves to stop the Blight then that's what they do. She won't be the only one to die in the final battle, even if all the other members of their party survive. They cannot ask the people they've gathered to die for them without being willing to give their own lives.
But knowing that you might die and knowing that you will are two very different things.
Alistair lets her pull away, arms dropping back to his sides as he frowns at the apology.] Don't be ridiculous. [He shifts back to sit beside Robyn, shoulder pressing against her.] You don't have to face this alone. I know... there's nothing I can do. I can't go back with you and find a way to change it but you don't have to deal with it alone. I'm here.
[It's still nothing but the most paltry of comforts but it's all he has. She's being braver than he thinks he might be in her position, the least he can do is offer his support.]
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It's... strange. [ She says, now looking down again at her hands, lacing her fingers together and then glancing downward. Strange isn't exactly the right word, but her mind is a mess of clockwork trying to regain its function and it's more difficult than usual to put language to feeling. ] It can't be changed because it's going to happen, because... it's already happened.
[ In some ways, it's the truth. There is a world gone by where her closest friend lives and she's a decade dead. The Warden adopts an almost stubbornly puzzled expression, chewing on her bottom lip as if trying to figure out the answer to a problem. ]
If I went back and could remember, would I do anything differently? Run away, leave it to the others? [ Her small, faintly exasperated smile suggests not. ] I spoke so much about how nothing is decided for us, that we're the only ones who can make our own way, but if choosing this battle makes all the difference, there isn't another outcome.
[ Again, she looks to the other Warden, bumping shoulders incidentally. ]
Does that make sense?
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He's slow to respond when she finishes speaking, frowning down as his lap as he thinks before shifting to look at her.]
It does. [A pause, then words leaving him in a rush.] But I still think there's a chance. If you find out how it happens maybe you can still change it. Not by running away - I know you won't abandon your duty. [He respects her dedication to the Wardens too much to even suggest leaving the battle to someone else. Not when it could simply mean another dies in her place. He wouldn't want to sit it out either but-] But if it's something you can prepare for you might have a chance.
[It's a slim hope he knows. The tides of battle - particularly one against something like the archdemon, large and powerful with an army of darkspawn at its command - are impossible to predict. But it's hope. Slaying the archdemon doesn't mean she has to die. That's what he wants to believe. It's selfish, as he knows without a doubt that there will be losses among their forces. But she deserves to survive as much as he does, maybe more given she's done more for the people of Ferelden than he has following Aedan.]
You have to try. You can't just go in there expecting to die.
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[ She very nearly bites her tongue to keep from bringing it up, from mentioning the pain it causes her to imagine the reaction that the man she loves would have in hearing of this, and so she hastily substitutes: ]
--the others. [ Which is also true. When Leliana had told her, it had been heartbreaking enough, and that had been ten years ago to the spymaster's memory. ] If I can avoid it somehow without compromising anything, I... would like to live.
[ Who wouldn't want to live to see Ferelden saved and the honor of the Grey Wardens restored? Who wouldn't want to go on living in any case, rather than to die in battle?
That may be the reality for some people, but she's always been too bright-eyed about the world to think it. ]
If only we could remember our experiences here for when we return. [ Would they even believe her? She highly doubts it. Leliana would, maybe: she'd had visions from the Maker, after all. Stranger things have happened to them all. ]
I don't expect anything. [ From anyone, from anything. ] I know so much is left to chance. I can only do what I think is right.
[ And, in the end, if that means giving her life... then, so be it. ]
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Forcing certainty into his voice, Alistair nudges her with his shoulder and declares-] You'll find a way. You'll end the Blight and survive. [If only saying it were enough to make it true. But maybe this time Leliana is wrong. It's not as though he hasn't heard as much from another source, one that she knows as well.] I spoke to Nathaniel Howe too. He said you're going to be Warden-Commander of Ferelden after the Blight.
[Which she can't do if she dies. So there's hope.]
So we don't know for sure what's going to happen to you. And there's people looking at ways to keep our memories safe. [Which he's sure will be no easy task but it's magic of some form and so it must be able to be stopped. They'll find a way. They have to.] And don't forget we have to stop the Wardens from- From doing everything we've heard about.
[He hardly thinks Robyn needs encouragement to not die or to be reminded of what terrible things await the order if they can't stop it but the extra motivation can't hurt.]
So you'll find a way. You'll kill the archdemon and then have to spend the rest of your life being called the Hero of Ferelden. You don't have a choice.
[The last part is said with a faint smile and he leans a bit more heavily against her. Unlike his potential title she has no choice about the Hero thing. So she has to live so she can suffer through it and, if he has as much in common with his twin as it seems likely, so he can tease her about it forever. That's just how it's going to be, she doesn't have a choice in the matter.
He hopes.]
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[ And since then, they'd become... friends. It's strange, but the way he'd spoken of her, she couldn't doubt that they'd known (or, would know) each other. He'd called her Commander and had spoken kindly and with warmth, offering comfort when she needed it. He'd been nothing like his father and she'd come to realize how grateful she is for that. ]
If you find a way to remember all this, give Aedan a slap across the face for me. [ She teases lightly, leaning against him in turn, head not quite high enough to rest on his shoulder. ] I doubt he'd be interested in stopping the Wardens from all that. He might even join their ranks if it meant--
[ Saving his own life, she means to say, but falters, looking suddenly guilty. Robyn swallows, growing more somber again, and casts her gaze away from the other Warden. ]
I'm sorry. [ She mutters. ] I shouldn't speak ill off... someone I don't know, who I've never met and will never meet. Just because I don't approve and because I chose differently doesn't mean I'm better than he is.
[ Maker, she hopes she is, but she isn't so arrogant as to make that claim of a stranger. A little flustered now, she brushes hair behind her ear and changes the subject. ]
Oh, not that again. [ The Warden groans, but there's another budding grin despite herself. ] If you're going to start that up, I'll come up with even worse names for you than before. And I'll tell the others so that they're all calling you something you don't like.
[ Ah. But, they're sort of doing that already, aren't they? Already labeling him as king? She bites her lower lip, sheepish for a second time, and eventually just sighs, shaking her head. ]
I'll just... put my other foot in my mouth, too, and save myself the trouble for later.
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[Which had been reason enough for him to give the other Warden a chance despite his name. And it's a good thing too. Knowing there's someone out there who knows Robyn from after the Blight and can prove that she has a chance of surviving, that's important.
As is them both being able to stop their respective orders from doing something terrible. Alistair chuckles at her suggestion regarding the other Warden Cousland and nods.] I'll do my best. [Or maybe if he takes the throne he can do something better. Make reparations at least. But he'll keep the option of just hitting the other Warden when it's all over in mind. Particularly when Aedan manages to ruin the good spirits Robyn had found without even being there.]
You don't have anything to be sorry for. You'll never meet him- [Unless the other Warden could turn up in Wonderland but he hopes not.] And I won't tell him. You can speak as ill as you like because you are better than him.
[Or he thinks so and given there's no one else there to argue that's all that matters.]
You don't need to come up with bad names for me - this place has already done that. [Such as during that event where he had no choice but to introduce himself to everyone as the Bastard. Or the part where seemingly everyone from Thedas knows him. And yes, the king bit. Even if he had been crowned he's certain he wouldn't want people talking to him differently. But the unpleasant titles like Hero are good for something and he's not letting her go back to being gloomy that easily.
Grinning Alistair nudges her and puts on an affronted tone.] Hey now! No fair stealing my trick. [He's the one always jamming both feet firmly in his mouth. What's he going to do if Robyn starts doing the same?] If you start shoving your foot in your mouth I'm going to have to come up with something new.
[And who knows where that will end up?]
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[ Even if it results in minor awkwardness. Thank the Maker for Alistair, who seems to take everything with humor, and who can easily match her foot-in-mouth syndrome. She nudges him back, thoroughly comfortable as they're sitting, sort of balanced against each other, and strokes Oren's head as he looks up at them both, eyes wide and almost expectant. ]
... I wanted to say something before... I died, before you left, but I couldn't get my thoughts together in time. [ Understandably, she thinks. ] I wanted to say it in case I really didn't come back, because it's-- [ The Warden frowns stubbornly and shakes her head a little, choosing her words more carefully this time. ] It's important, especially after all this.
[ After hearing about herself traveling down two different roads, one much more preferable than the other. Robyn shifts slightly, looking up at him, expression something akin to a nervous student about to speak in front of a class or recite a monologue from memory. ]
I don't know what you... think that I think of you, but I wanted to tell you that I've finally figured it out. [ As she does with so many things, Robyn makes a complicated issue sound simple when the reality is far from the truth. She believes now that it's simple, though, and her slightly nervous features seem to clear up into something more resolved as she goes on. ] You aren't "the Alistair who becomes king," or "the Alistair who stays a Warden," or "the Alistair I know," or "the Alistair I don't know." You're just... you. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that, and I hope all the others can come to see it, too.
[ There are other things, but they seem to slip out of her grasp, and she deflates a little, at a loss for the rest of her miniature speech. ]
... It's important. [ Robyn repeats at a mutter, casting her gaze again to the hound's head on her lap, tiny spots of pink rising to her cheeks. ]
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[He tries too. It just doesn't often work. So he enjoys a chance to laugh at other people just blurting things out - laughing in a friendly manner.
The good mood fades and Alistair tenses unconsciously as Robyn speaks of her death. It's still hard to think about leaving her back there to die alone. Leaving her hadn't even made a difference. They'd both still died as a result of that infection. The most he could say is that Robyn likely doesn't know he'd broken his promise and succumbed as well. She has enough on her mind with her possible future back in Ferelden. This at least is something she doesn't need to worry about. She worries enough about him, though there are still days he wonders why.]
I'm listening. [He frowns down at her, not sure where she's going to start with. When it does become clear, he doesn't know what to say at first.]
I- [It's funny because he hadn't really been thinking about it that way. He'd thought of his twin - the man Robyn knows, waiting back in her Ferelden - and the king and the Warden that people years in the future know of as being not exactly other people but also not exactly him. Something he couldn't put into words and generally just tried not to think about. But she's not female-Aedan, shares nothing but her family name and some other history with him. Which isn't nothing but the point is, maybe that's the way to look at it. There's him and there's a bunch of other people who have the same name (and a lot of other things too) as him but maybe he can pretend it is that simple.]
...Thank you. I don't think it took you a long time to realise anything. [Because it is confusing and not exactly as simple as all that but it's the best way to look at it.] And I don't think of you as 'the other Warden Cousland'. [Not most of the time anyway.] You're just Robyn.
[Slinging an arm around her shoulders he squeezes her and smiles hopefully down at her.] A good friend and future Warden-Commander of Ferelden.
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Thank you. [ The Warden replies after what he says, finally smiling, looking a little relieved. ] That means a lot.
[ While it's true that she doesn't exactly want to be likened to Aedan, it's more so that she wants to be her own person in all this, when so many people deny her identity or tack on a title that she hasn't earned. In Robyn's eyes, she isn't Warden-Commander or Hero of Ferelden, but she is a Warden. She's Robyn Cousland, Grey Warden, and... whatever her future holds, she can believe in that fact alone.
She seems to deflate a little with a sigh, settling in to his grasp, leaning against him in turn and resting her head against him. In the distance, her knife finally falls to the ground out from where it'd been stuck in the training dummy. ]
I still say I wouldn't be a very good Commander. [ She speaks up again after a pause, but she's smiling, almost amused. ] I'm not serious enough.
[ She draws out the word, wrinkling her nose as if she finds the idea of such a level of seriousness displeasing. ]
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And I am? [Serious enough to be Warden-Commander, him? She had made the suggestion before and it strikes him as unlikely now as it did then. No one from the future has ever called him a Warden-Commander so that's one title that doesn't seem likely to come his way. And even if Robyn isn't eager to claim it she is a good candidate. Duncan would have - had - approved of her. She refuses to sit out the battle against the archdemon even knowing she had died in some version of it. She could do it.
And as far as her argument against it goes-] I don't think you need to be serious all the time to lead. Just look at the Inquisitor. And the king mes. Unless you think they wouldn't do something like this?
[With that he abruptly shifts, kneeling up and grabbing for her, attempting to get her over his shoulder before she can escape. The grin on his face as he does so should be warning enough that he's planning something, if somehow the actions aren't.
She had been expressing her distaste of excessive seriousness. He's helping.]
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[ He can't deny that he makes people laugh, at the very least. There are a dozen other good qualities she'd be happy to label him as if he gave her the chance, but for now she just listens, head tilted slightly to the side, considering. ]
Well, the Inquisitor is... light-hearted, it's true, and I think King Alistair might--
[ But she's cut off with a yelp from her own mouth as he moves swiftly, starling her our of sheer reaction, and then throws her over his shoulder. At first, she's so shell-shocked by the suddenness and the absurdity that she's very still, but it isn't long before the Warden regains her wits and struggles tooth and nail against her captor, small frame not exactly well-leveraged against his much larger (and taller) form. ]
Alistair, what're you-- put me down! [ Robyn shrieks, trying to sound more demanding than amused, unsure of how to fend him off without actually hurting him. If it were an enemy, it'd be easier, but it isn't as if she wants to go and stab the man to escape from his nefarious clutches. ]
I was just-- [ Oof. ] --trying to sing your praises, and you're-- What are you doing with me?
[ Unfortunately, with everything that's happened, she's long since forgotten about her having told him about the mud... ]
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I'm taking you for a walk.
[He holds Robyn tightly once he has her over his shoulder, both to keep her from getting loose and so she can't fall and get hurt. It's not easy to keep a grip on her when she's struggling but he has brute strength on his side and she's not seriously fighting like she would if he were an enemy so it's doable. A little more difficult to lurch to standing from where he was kneeling, grunting with effort as he finds his feet, but it's no worse than getting upright in full plate.
Bouncing her lightly on his shoulder, Alistair calls to Oren-] Come on boy! [And starts off through the trees, towards the nearby babble of a small stream with wide, muddy banks. As he walks he cheerfully reassures her-] I'll put you down soon, don't worry! I promise you won't get hurt.
[She might not enjoy what's coming as much as he will but she won't get hurt.]
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This isn't-- very-- Grey Warden-like of you! [ She huffs. Finally, something occurs to her, and, since she knows where he's at least a little ticklish, she needles him in the sides with her fingers in her continued attempt to get loose. ]
Why aren't you helping? Your master is in mortal peril! [ Robyn demands of the dog, who follows alongside them, looking pleased, likely expecting a reward. He's too smart for his own good, she thinks, since the mabari clearly knows she's in no real danger. ]
I'll lick you if I have to, don't think that I won't! [ Or bite, even! Never mind that she can't exactly reach anywhere to do so that would matter, since licking at his clothes would... accomplish nothing and likely not taste so great. ] Alistair "Remigold" Theirin, if you don't let me go right now, you're really going to get it!
[ One way or another!! ]
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Alistair hums cheerfully as he walks, the hammering on his back not even phasing him. When Robyn starts digging at his sides that gets more of a reaction as he yelps and tries unsuccessfully to squirm away from her, bouncing her on his shoulder again when that fails.]
He's a good boy and knows I'm just trying to help. [He coos down at the hound, happily keeping them company. He's going to have to remember to start carrying dog treats with him all the time. He wasn't expecting to see Robyn or Oren when he came out here so he forgot. But even without a treat the mabari should get just as much enjoyment from the next bit as Alistair himself.]
Remi- [Oh, right. Of course. His counter-part has the same sense of humour. And also knows he looks quite dashing in a dress and can dance well. That's something. But two can play that game!] Since you put it like that your Heroicness-
[He starts to run, jostling Robyn even more than before as he does. Lucky for her it's only a short dash then he's skidding to halt again and lifting her off his shoulder. And dumping her right down in the mud.]
There, I put you down.
[Just like she asked. Don't mind the triumphant grin he's sporting, he was just doing as he was told.]
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Alistair! [ Seriously!! But, then it (unfortunately) all becomes clear as the other Warden lifts her again and deposits her into the muddy bank of the stream with an unpleasant squelch. Robyn's mouth falls open as she splutters, shocked, half-covered in mud and as utterly blown away as she's ever been at this turn of events.
There is a long, stunned silence.
Eventually, though, she slowly turns to look up at him, expression unchanged. Then, the Warden whistles sharply in a short pattern and her mabari will try, at least, to headbutt Alistair behind the knees to get him to fall. Robyn herself snaps an arm out to grab his hand and try and tug him down into the muck with her. She'll be damned if he gets out of all this clean and she has to make a confusing walk of shame back to her room. ]
You-- aren't-- getting-- away! [ She grunts, tugging with all her strength. ]
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But he's already laughing himself stupid at the first, mostly ineffectual tug. On the slippery ground Robyn has no leverage and against his greater strength she really doesn't have a chance of pulling him off his feet. Once he manages to to stop laughing he can easily pull free and run back to the mansion before she starts throwing mud at him instead.
Until Oren joins in and, still snickering madly, Alistair goes down like a felled ogre. He twists as he falls and hits the muddy ground beside Robyn, still laughing gleefully and struggling to speak.]
You- Your face! Maker, I-
[Rolling over, already well on his way to being a uniform brown smear he finally manages to catch his breath. And smirks.
Lunging for her, Alistair attempts to grab her arm and keep her from making a break for it. If he can get her even more covered in muck at the same time all the better. Neither of them is walking out of here till they're completely covered if he has anything to say about it.
This would be about a good time for Bann Teagan to show up. A visiting noble to surprise and a fond reminder of the last time he saw his sort-of uncle before being sent to the Chantry.]
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Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be done acting mischievously. Robyn yelps as he dives for her, scrambling to get away, but he gets a grip and he's stronger and she tries to fight him off, curling her fingers around his arm to try and pry it off of herself. ]
What in the name of Andraste are you doing? [ She demands, flailing, both trying to escape and free herself and soak him in mud all at the same time. ] That's the last time I confide in you with something serious!
[ No, she doesn't mean it, but this is all... still very confusing. ]
I share a personal story from my history and you use it against me! How will I ever trust you again?
[ Because that had been where she'd gotten the idea, hadn't it? She reflects on this in the midst of the chaos, nose wrinkled intently, and then-- screw it. Robyn tries to make good on her threat and begins her attempt to sink her teeth into his arm.
The mabari, meanwhile, lies down in the grass to watch. ]
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Grinning happily he tries to scrub a handful of mud into her hair, getting more mud spattered over him as he does.]
Mwahaha, you should know better than to let me know your dirty secrets!
['Dirty secrets'? Get it?
...Oh, come on that was funny! And she had to know this was coming after sharing that story. What else was he supposed to do, just forget about it? She doesn't mean it. Or so he thinks, though given what she does next maybe she does.
Alistair yelps and flails backwards - and, yes, it's soaked all the way through his trousers now - as Robyn bites him. Attempting to snatch his arm back and examine the wounded area he pouts at her.]
Owww! Were you raised by dogs? That's just going too far!
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