Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
circlejerked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-01-05 04:07 pm
circlejerked) wrote in entrancelogs2016-01-05 04:07 pm
Entry tags:
if the flame gets blown out in the shine
Who: Anders (circlejerked) and Alistair (fatherlesskind)!
Where: Somewhere in the mansion.
When: Backdated to Jan. 4th.
Rating: PG-ish, probably.
Summary: It's Anders' first day and who should he bump into but the king who helped save his life once by giving him a chance as a Grey Warden. Thanks to canon points, confusion ensues.
The Story:
[Having assembled bits and pieces of information over the course of the morning, Anders had moved on to trying to weave the few facts he had into a complete story like a magpie weaving scraps and scavenged materials into a nest. He'd been hoping to explain why in the Maker's name he was here, but by the time afternoon rolled around Anders hadn't gotten any closer to solving the mystery.
He'd learned a few things, such as that this place has a name: Wonderland. (A terribly quaint epithet, if you ask him.) And that magic is everywhere, permeating every one of the mansion's beams and bricks and glittering candle sconces. Someone only needed to have eyes and ears to figure that one out, though, what with the way the mansion seemed to ripple like a mirage in the distance when viewed from the outside.
And the inside! If Anders hadn't known better, he would've said he'd accidentally tripped and fallen into the Fade for how little the interior makes sense. The illusion of blue skies over the entrance way, windows that look out in the wrong direction, hallways that seem to go nowhere...]
I swear I've been walking for an age already.
[The room numbers are at triple digits! Grumbling to himself makes the damn near impossible task of walking to the end of a hall easier to bear. He reverses course, the hall's many mirrors reflecting back the image of a Grey Warden mage still in uniform.
For a while yet, he pokes and prods his way around the first two floors, admiring their grandness while stopping to study what's out of place.]
circlejerked) and Alistair (fatherlesskind)!Where: Somewhere in the mansion.
When: Backdated to Jan. 4th.
Rating: PG-ish, probably.
Summary: It's Anders' first day and who should he bump into but the king who helped save his life once by giving him a chance as a Grey Warden. Thanks to canon points, confusion ensues.
The Story:
[Having assembled bits and pieces of information over the course of the morning, Anders had moved on to trying to weave the few facts he had into a complete story like a magpie weaving scraps and scavenged materials into a nest. He'd been hoping to explain why in the Maker's name he was here, but by the time afternoon rolled around Anders hadn't gotten any closer to solving the mystery.
He'd learned a few things, such as that this place has a name: Wonderland. (A terribly quaint epithet, if you ask him.) And that magic is everywhere, permeating every one of the mansion's beams and bricks and glittering candle sconces. Someone only needed to have eyes and ears to figure that one out, though, what with the way the mansion seemed to ripple like a mirage in the distance when viewed from the outside.
And the inside! If Anders hadn't known better, he would've said he'd accidentally tripped and fallen into the Fade for how little the interior makes sense. The illusion of blue skies over the entrance way, windows that look out in the wrong direction, hallways that seem to go nowhere...]
I swear I've been walking for an age already.
[The room numbers are at triple digits! Grumbling to himself makes the damn near impossible task of walking to the end of a hall easier to bear. He reverses course, the hall's many mirrors reflecting back the image of a Grey Warden mage still in uniform.
For a while yet, he pokes and prods his way around the first two floors, admiring their grandness while stopping to study what's out of place.]
no subject
It's the voice that catches his attention first as he makes his way through the mansion. The accent sounds Ferelden which is uncommon enough around Wonderland to prompt him to turn down the hallway from which it seems to be coming. When he sees the uniform the stranger is wearing he's even more intrigued - and a little concerned.]
You're a Grey Warden?
[Stupid question - why else would he be wearing the uniform if not? It's not like anyone would be foolish enough to dress up as a Warden. That would just be asking to get killed or tainted fighting darkspawn.
The bigger concern is who the other man is. All the other Ferelden Wardens are dead and even if they weren't, he met them all before they were killed and this man wasn't one of them. If he's another Warden Cousland then Alistair may just scream. Alright, the Warden Cousland that he's met in Wonderland already actually seems like she might be alright but it's still a bit much if there wind up being two Couslands here.
Well, he's not wearing anything to identify himself as a Warden too. If whoever this other Warden is recognises him then it seems likely he is another Warden like Cousland. And then he's going to scream. Or be very frustrated at least.]
no subject
He does startle a little when he gets a good look at the speaker. He'd thought the voice had sounded familiar, but--]
Aah--
[The sight of King Alistair coming toward him as calm as you please has the normally articulate mage tripping over his tongue at first. A blink of eyes made wide with surprise doesn't change what they're telling him. The man is definitely Ferelden's new king, sans the shiny, kingly armor.
Blurting out it's you! probably isn't his best bet and Anders scrambles for something more appropriate.]
By the Maker's holy pantaloons, now yours is a face I wasn't expecting to see. Er, respectfully.
[Yeah, that'll do.]
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Well, so long as you're respectful about it. I do hate people disrespecting my face.
[That's definitely recognition there even if it's not quite the response he was expecting. But already he wants to like this Warden, one-sided recognition or not. That's the kind of blasphemy that the Reverend Mother would hate so Alistair, of course, likes it. Amused as he is though it doesn't stop him asking in a faintly resigned tone-]
Let me guess. You're a new Grey Warden, recruited by Duncan to help stop the Blight and we're only Wardens left in Ferelden after the battle at Ostagar. Am I right?
[Something else occurs to him thanks to one of his more recent discoveries about not-him and Warden Cousland and he's quick to add with a look of undisguised horror-]
Just if there was anything... more friendly with us please don't tell me. I really, really, really don't want to know. Really. Please.
no subject
Yes, he's a new recruit and he wouldn't expect a busy ruler in the process of cleaning up the rank mess that is Ferelden to remember his face out of all the other survivors of Vigil's Keep, but the rest...]
Ostagar? But--
[His genuinely puzzled reply dies a swift death at what Alistair says after. Anything more friendly between them? Uh...? Wait. The insinuation hits with a jolt like Alistair had thrown one of his own lightning blasts back at him.]
Us?
[Anders had never held any interest in or desire to be a choir boy, but in the yelped syllable that escapes him, his voice shoots up a few octaves higher to the point that he'd sing like an angel if pressed. Alistair could have condemned him as a maleficar and ordered him to kiss the Knight-Commander's lily white ass and still not managed to put such a perfectly scandalized look on Anders' face.
It's not the thought of being "more than friendly" with a man or another of his brothers-in-arms that makes him splutter, but the king. The thought of all the ways Queen Anora could bring her wrath down on an apostate mage would make anyone's knees turn to porridge. Might as well accuse him of groping the Divine while he's at it! ]
What!? Oh, Maker. No, no, I-- Is that...? That's not a rumor going around, is it? That's not to say... I mean, you're an an exceptional specimen of virulence, naturally, I wouldn't say that wasn't flattering, but...
[What are the protocols when your king is spouting crazy talk? Stroke his ego?
... Sweet Maker, scratch that thought. No stroking of any kind.]
I--I--I--Just. I like my head where it is! That is, on my shoulders where it belongs and not decorating a spike somewhere. I'm a mage and that would be-- [Nervous, breathless huffs of laughter. The king and an apostate, now that'd set tongues wagging.] A conflict of interests, at the very least.
[At least Alistair looks just as flabbergasted at his own suggestion.]
What brought that on? Am I having one of ate-too-much-before-bed dreams? Is that what's happening?
[That would explain a lot.]
no subject
His expression grows steadily more amused at the response, even if what he's hearing doesn't exactly make a lot of sense.]
Not a rumour, no. Or I hope not. That would be a bit much.
[Although - flattering? And virile? Not terms he'd generally associate with himself under any circumstances. It's empty flattery obviously and the next words out of the man's mouth do offer some explanation as to why - sort of.
Though why exactly would the Warden think he could end up with his head on a spike because of a rumour like that? Sure, it was the sort of thing that the Chantry disapproved of - like they disapproved of a lot of other things too - but it wasn't heads-on-spikes level of disapproval last he'd checked. Even for mages. And almost-Templars. Or Wardens.
A conflict of interests he can understand at least - two Wardens of any kind together doesn't seem the best idea. Stopping the Blight has to come before anything else, including love and he really didn't need to be thinking that kind of thing now. This is all kinds of awkward already and he better explain himself, given he'd almost given the other man a seizure.
...Much as he'd rather let the whole embarrassing mess be dismissed as a bad dream. Heaving a sigh, Alistair explains-]
Look, I met another Warden here who I guess is you where she's from and someone else where I'm from and I don't remember her but she knows me - or a different me - and they were all- [He waves his hands about vaguely, trying to indicate the goo-goo eyes Cousland and other-Alistair had been making in the memory of hers he'd had the misfortune to see.] And I just wanted to be sure- You know what, forget I asked. Let's just start over, OK?
[Without waiting for a response he offers a hand to the man before him.]
I'm Alistair, a Grey Warden. And you are?
no subject
Although he gives his temple a rub, with the initial surprise of seeing Alistair wearing off Anders finds it in himself to present a humored, if small, smile. Being more confused than ever doesn't stop him from joining in in making light of the misunderstanding--fighting fire with fire is right up his alley as a mage.]
Looking back on this later, I might feel a bit of wounded pride. So much for life as a royal courtesan.
[The thought!
The question remains why Ferelden's newest sovereign is here and acting like the Blight isn't the old news that it is. The longer he goes on, the longer Anders starts to think the sweat dotting the other man's brow must be nonsense manifested in physical form leaking from his pores.]
There's another me and I'm a she? I think I have had this dream before. [Anders' brow knits trying to keep up. He couldn't agree more about starting at the beginning, but something missing in that introduction calls out for attention.] Not King Alistair?
[He extends his hand in response as he would anyone initiating a greeting, but ends up pausing just shy of closing the distance, casting Alistair's hand a doubtful look as though it may bite him if he commits to such an informal gesture. If everyone could shake hands with their rulers and casually refer to them by their first names, the world would probably be a happier place, but it's not. It seems to him either he's being extremely rude by not using Alistair's proper title, or Alistair is tricking him into a false sense of security.]
It's Anders. Mage, Grey Warden, and... since yesterday, still myself and a man. Should I be bowing now or does that come after all this starts adding up?
no subject
[Did Ferelden kings even do that sort of thing when there were impressionable maids to be found? No, wait, he didn't want to think about any of that no matter who he's talking to!
And now he's blushing. Is it too late to pretend this never happened? Probably. Nothing to do but soldier on and try to make sense of the whole mess. Which isn't going to be easy but at least they're both confused. That's almost comforting.
Until the other Warden brings up the unfortunate matter of royalty.]
King? Me? I'm not- Well, maybe I- Look, that hasn't been decided yet and I'm not going to just start-
[Yes, this is going well. Maybe soon he'll manage a whole sentence,]
Please don't bow. I'll order you not to if I have to, don't think I won't.
[That much at least he's sure of. If anyone starts bowing at him he won't be able to deal with it. At all. Even if he's mostly come to accept the idea he could be crowned king of Ferelden the reality is still thankfully far off and that includes being treated like royalty. Instead of the a royal mess he feels like half the time.
But the fact that the Warden - Anders - seems to think he already is king along with some of the other people he's met in Wonderland who are also from Thedas at least gives him an idea what might be going on. Maybe. No one else who claims to be from after the Blight has felt the need to mention bowing or call him by any title at all so maybe not.
First things first.
Alistair reaches out that bit further and grasps Anders' hand firmly. Shakes it.]
Anders. Alistair. Just Alistair. [Taking his hand back he figures now maybe he can try to clear things up.] Just a Warden at least until the Landsmeet. Which is where I'm supposed to be right now... This place is weird.
no subject
You don't have to tell me twice! Bowing is a nightmare on the back.
[The king might be acting like he'd gotten into Oghren's stash of brain-meltingly strong liquor, but his direct and genial nature win a more pronounced smile out of Anders that he has to bite back. Grinning helplessly in the face of this whirlwind of confusion he's found himself at the center of would make them both mad.]
All right, just Alistair if that suits your fancy. But the Landsmeet... [And here the confusion starts to trickle back in, a tidal wave waiting to sweep him away.] That was a while ago. Maker, a couple more months will make it a year. You don't happen to have a twin, do you? Because I could swear I just met him at Vigil's Keep to welcome the new Warden-Commander, and he was most certainly the king.
[It might sound like a jest, but underneath it he's deadly serious. The man in front of him is King Alistair, he'd bet his boots on it. He'd never seen King Cailan in person, but he'd seen his likeness stamped in coins and inked on portraits, and Alistair undeniably shares those same features--the strong jaw and fair complexion especially. There can be no denying he's Cailan's half-brother here and now, or there and then.]
no subject
Because from what the other man is saying, that's it. The Landsmeet is going to support him as king. Maybe. There's still the fact of the different Warden Couslands to consider, if that could make a difference. But he's not terribly surprised to hear it. Eamon had been so determined that it should be Theirin blood on the throne and Anora just seems too much like her father to be trusted.
He's definitely going to worry about all this later but for now he can shove it aside in favour of sorting out this mess. Which isn't so bad now that things are decidedly less awkward and he can actually relax a little.]
No, no twin. It would have been nice but last I checked there's just me. [If he did have a twin brother maybe he could be the one to take all the responsibility and leave Alistair to stay with the Wardens. Or at least he'd have had someone to commiserate with. But it's not going to happen unfortunately. He's stuck with it.]
It's not been a while ago for me. It hasn't happened yet. And I've never been to Vigil's Keep or heard of a new Warden-Commander of Ferelden.
[There would have to be a new Commander appointed for Ferelden eventually but it stings a little to hear that. As necessary as it is it still feels like replacing Duncan. Which it is and Duncan himself would understand it had to happen but...
He shrugs helplessly and offers a wry smile.]
Look, you're not the only one confused by it. There's some people here who say that the Blight ended years and years ago. And I don't think they're just crazy. Well, OK, they could be crazy but I don't think they're making it up.... I just try not to think about it much, it's easier that way.
no subject
What does that mean? It hasn't happened yet?
[It has happened. Done, finished, old hat, water under the bridge. An incontrovertible fact. Anders doesn't see how it's up for debate.
And the Blight being over for years? It's a new level of nuttiness.]
Believing what you make up is the hallmark of a crazy person, you realize...
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[Alistair throws his hands in the air in frustration. He's not getting anywhere with this. Maybe he should just call someone else and make it their problem instead. Had he been this difficult when he'd arrived? Maybe. But he was sure it had been easier for Warden Cousland to convince him she was telling the truth, given the things she knew that only Alistair and the Warden he knew had been present for. He can't do that with Anders so all he has are his powers of persuasion.
So basically he's never convincing the new Warden of anything.]
But that means all of you are the craziest of the bunch. Because I know the Landsmeet hasn't happened yet. It's not the sort of thing you just forget no matter how many hits to the head you take. And we still have a Blight to stop. I don't care what you say, it's true.
[Slaying an archdemon was another thing you wouldn't just forget if you managed to survive it. And being made a king. That was also the sort of thing he'd remember if it had happened. Which it hadn't. So if anyone was wrong here it wasn't him.]
no subject
[Alistair will be waiting a while if he expects Anders to assure him this seems sane by any measure.
He crosses his arms, one eyebrow raised higher than the other. Anders has been trying to keep an open mind since wandering out of the forest, but everything about this situation has conspired to make it as difficult a task as possible, and Alistair had started to lose him the moment he brought up Ostagar in the present tense.]
I'd like to believe you, but you must know how this sounds? [The word you're looking for is, as established, crazy.] I've got a few compelling reasons to think I'm up on my current events--namely that I might not be here if not for you and the Commander. I was on the run from the Circle. The templars were itching to put a noose around my neck before the Commander offered to conscript me. You stuck it to them to make it happen. The looks on their faces! Priceless. I owe that King Alistair an ale and a fruit basket.
[Setting aside the end of the Blight and the Wardens' dealings with the intelligent darkspawn since then, it remains a simple truth that Anders being a Warden is thanks in part to Alistair having been in the right place at the right time--and apparently been in a good mood toward apostate mages that day. He puts on a smile, tone light.]
So you see? I don't have much of a choice in what I believe--it's what got me in this uniform and away from the Circle, and for that I'm glad. It's good to see a familiar face if just for that.
[More important--]
But why are you here? "Here" as in... this place.
no subject
Which still doesn't change the fact that he's not any crazier than he was before he arrived in Wonderland - before the Landsmeet or anything else involving recruiting run-away mages could happen.]
Look, as much as I like to hear that I can still annoy the order without being- Oh, what's the point!
[He still can't offer any proof of the fact beyond his own word. Why bother arguing in circles over it?]
You've got me. I ran away to some crazy mansion and pretended to forget everything so I could avoid my kingly responsibilities. And if you tell anyone I'm here it's the dungeons for you, alright?
[On second thought it's probably better not to say that kind of thing, considering the whole heads-on-spikes idea Anders had earlier. The last thing he needs is one of the only other Wardens around convinced he's going to start having people locked up in non-existent dungeons. If he's going to think Alistair is crazy no matter what it would be better if it were the harmless kind of crazy.
Sighing, Alistair waves a hand to dismiss his previous statement.]
There's no dungeons here that I've seen. And I'm here for the same reason you are. If you figure out what that is I'd really like to hear about it... Unless you're asking why I'm here-here- [Pointing at the floor beneath him as he says so.] Which is because there's not many other Fereldens or Grey Wardens around so I thought I should introduce myself.
no subject
Sarcasm gives his internal voice a rich flavour. Had he mentioned he just loves dungeon jokes? Hilarious.]
What would you lock me up for, asking too many questions? [Anders' angles his head. Some healthy concern is warranted after the morning he's had, he thinks.] Ha! Joke's on you, the templars tried that for a year, it didn't stick.
[A slight triumphant smile accompanies this as though he'd just admitted to winning a food eating contest, not surviving solitary confinement. It hadn't stifled Anders' rebellious nature, nor his predilection for talking. Or the small comfort bantering like this provides. The king--because Anders can't help thinking of him as such, regardless of what's been said to the contrary--seems to share his feelings on the last point, for what little it does to enlighten him.]
So no dungeons. That's something--but that still doesn't explain what's going on. You really don't remember anything? And for another thing, what is this place?
[He's bursting at the seams with questions, and they've doubled every hour like litters of rabbits.]
no subject
[It's not really relevant to the topic of Wonderland but it does seem an important point. Because if he'd been locked in a dungeon for a year he'd be raving mad a few months in. Anders seems sane enough - even with all the insisting that Alistair must be king - but maybe he's just a very good actor. And trying to drive him mad as well.]
Haven't I been saying that from the start? No, I don't remember anything after the Landsmeet! [Does he sound like he's getting frustrated? Because it might be hard to tell but he really is.]
Look, all I know is this place is called Wonderland - not my idea - and there's lots of weird people here from all over, not just Thedas. And some of them look kind of demony and there's a lot of magic - or technology - I don't understand but everyone is stuck and no one seems to know how to get home and-
[And his sweat-soaked shirt is rapidly becoming uncomfortable. Plus he keeps waiting for someone else to come along and while they might be able to help, or even take over since he's not doing a very good job of explaining here, they might also make things worse.]
Do we have to do this out here, in the hallway? I have a room. Or we can find the kitchen - you're a Grey Warden, aren't you hungry?
[He is so surely Anders must be too. Because his appetite is absolutely part of being a Grey Warden and nothing to do with him personally. That's just a fact.]
no subject
I wish I were joking. I escaped from the Circle seven times--they tend not to like that. And I can vouch that you've been saying plenty of things--most of it confusing. The bit I could make sense of was the part about this place being weird. If you're going to rewrite history as I know it, at least give some time for it to sink in.
[If the king's been testing him on how well he can keep up by hurling baffling statements at him like a combat instructor hurling punches, Anders is losing. One thing still bothers him, and with good reason...]
How can you be missing so much time that I remember clearly?
[He makes a cutting gesture with a hand while he thinks, mind clearly at work on the problem. Alistair's seeming lack of concern or urgency strikes Anders as odd when things are so obviously out of sort, and the offer has him hesitating, expression unsure.]
Is it... really the time to be eating?
[After the templars had tampered with his meals the first few weeks into his solitary confinement sentence, Anders had learned not to trust anything given for free in a prison. Prisons could always get worse. And Alistair had confirmed they were stuck--virtually imprisoned. Trapped.
Fear of all things to do with imprisonment does wonders to kill an appetite, not that he'd admit that to the king he'd met at Vigil's Keep, or a stranger wearing the king's face.]
no subject
Just take 'everything is weird' as your answer, whatever you ask. [His frustration is fading at least, to be replaced by amused sympathy. It's not an easy position to be in and he's probably not being that helpful. Especially given how he started the whole conversation. But at least they're getting somewhere now.] Like, why do you remember all these things that haven't happened yet? Because everything is weird. See? Simple!
[Jokes aside he really hasn't found a better answer in the time he's been here so it's become one of those 'not worth worrying about' problems. Finding a way back to Ferelden is important, understanding why they all remember different things and people from home isn't. Or he hopes not.]
Why not? [He shrugs, clearly untroubled by the idea of helping himself to a meal provided by a mysterious mansion in which he's essentially being held prisoner.] I'm hungry. And I haven't been poisoned in all the weeks I've been here so I'm pretty sure the food is fine.
[It does help that, no matter how trapped by circumstances Alistair might have felt in his life, he's never really been an actual prisoner of the 'locked up in a cell' type. Except for that one stay in Fort Drakon but that had been blessedly brief. And being in Wonderland has been a step up from how he's been living for the past year. He hasn't had to put up a tent the whole time he's been here or woken up from a nightmare of the archdemon. So there are definitely worse prisons in his opinion.]
If it bothers you that much you can just sit and watch and I'll eat.
[Never let it be said he's not accommodating.]
no subject
It's too early to say what he's dealing with, whether the reality falls short of the legend, or if Alistair is really suffering from some grievous head wound that's affecting his memory. Or if he's dealing with something else altogether. For all he knows, he's the one who'd taken a knock to the head on an assignment and this is all some concussion-induced fantasy.
Though Anders isn't quite ready to put his myriad of concerns to bed, he lets it go for now, shifting his weight to a more relaxed stance.]
Easy to please, aren't you.
[But the jest has some merit to it: Anders needs to get back to his cat and to a place where things make sense. Simple.]
Bet you're sorry you don't have any royal food tasters now. [It's a signal as much as the smile he puts on that he's willing to go along with the segue for the time being.] All right, I'm up for a tour. I'm always happy to learn from someone else's risk-taking.
[And even if he's not acting like himself, this is still the king. Anders is better off with him than without him, and staying by him might give Anders an opportunity to learn more about what these apparent weeks of living in Wonderland have been like.]
no subject
Hopefully. If it turns out while he's been stuck here the Blight has consumed all of Ferelden.... No. That's not something he's allowing himself to think about. There's absolutely nothing he can do about it here and now if it is happening and worrying won't change that. So he just nods and gestures for the other Warden to follow him as he sets off towards the kitchen.
At least Anders is willing to let it be for now, rather than keep trying to figure out why he's supposedly forgotten so much. Or decided he's an impostor. It's not going to be the end of the discussion he's sure but by the time they get back to it he should have some better arguments on hand.]
I once got told my cooking was like poison. [He sounds rather proud of that fact.] I think you might need a food taster more than I do.
[Is that really something he's going to have to do if he becomes king? It just seems so absurd. No one would want to kill him... No one else would want to kill him even if he were... Maker. Why would anyone ever want a position of power?
It's another one to add to the 'worry about later' list so instead he glances back at Anders to add-] I hope you're not expecting the grand tour. I only give those on special occasions. And to people who don't call me crazy.
no subject
[Still smiling faintly, Anders falls in to the left and slightly behind Alistair. He flexes the muscles in his back, comforted by the solid weight of his staff resting between his shoulder blades. Whatever he's facing, at least he's not facing it unarmed.
Before he can say anything else, one thing needs slight correcting...]
I didn't say you were crazy. [He just hadn't disagreed with Alistair, and it's impolite to disagree with a superior, right? The smile is in his voice now.] Though you've got me wondering what had you thinking I might have batted my eyelashes your way. Do you regularly have illicit relationships with mages? Cooking might not be one of them, but you must have other talents to charm your way to the "more friendly" stage.
[Alistair can rest assured, Anders does his damnedest to give as good as he gets when it comes to fighting darkspawn and flustering people.]
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...It doesn't work.] I thought we were going to pretend I didn't say anything like that.
[That was what he'd decided and now Anders was breaking their unspoken pact. That was a betrayal right up there with stealing a man's cheese or telling his superiors he'd been sleeping through sermons. It just wasn't done. But he can't just let the mage think whatever he's thinking about him. It could ruin his good name. If he had one of those.]
I don't have 'illicit relationships' with anyone! [He wasn't going to admit to Anders that he hadn't had any kind of relationship, illicit or otherwise. That would just lead to more embarrassment and questions about why he'd even asked when he really would rather forget he'd had that thought at all.] And I'm not trying to charm you. It's called being friendly. Just friendly. Don't make me reconsider it.
[He's so not above abandoning a fellow Grey Warden to fend for himself here. It's not like there's any darkspawn or other threats roaming the mansion to feast upon the unwary.]
As for a grand tour, I don't know who owns this place. Or if anyone even does.
[Which is another oddity he should worry about more. Knowing that might help them get home. Somehow. But if anyone has that answer it's not done them much good, as far as he can tell.]
no subject
Of course I wouldn't bring it up in front of a king with the power to see me hung upside down by my toes and flogged. But since you're not the king, it's nothing more than a harmless question between two Wardens, yes?
[What else would it be? Certainly not Anders wheedling for details.]
You sounded pretty sure at the time. Do you feel the need to ask that sort of thing a lot? That could be awkward with the wrong person. For a second, you had me worried, but it's fortunate that I'm the easygoing type.
[Would adding that he's single be too much teasing for the moment? Likely so. He'd rather go easy on the fellow and foster some goodwill so that he can get some proper answers, and being ditched in the hallway works against that goal. He can't deny that it's tempting, though.
Turning instead to the mystery at hand, Anders lets his tone turn pensive.]
Someone or something must be powering the magic here. You said there were others--others from Ferelden? Does that mean other Wardens have wound up here? I was really hoping to be done with kidnappings.
[But maybe someone from his unit is here, too, and with all of their faculties in check to explain just what's happening with this strange pocket dimension and the royal lookalike who can't remember the last half a year of his life.]
no subject
[Which would be the sign that he's really lost his mind. Only a madman would honestly want the job.]
And it's not awkward now?
[He knows when he's been made fun of thank you, even if he'd invited it by asking something like that. Luckily he's given an out that might also clear up why he made such a fool of himself without him needing to go so far as explaining.]
There is one other Warden here. She's from Ferelden too. [He stops and turns to face Anders, equally serious and a little concerned, though he tries to hide it.] Do you know who was the other Warden to survive Ostagar? There were two of us, right?
[That part seems consistent as near as he can tell. No one has been surprised by him being alive and a Warden yet or expected him to be the one leading the fight against the Blight. He just hopes Anders doesn't remember some third Warden who's not the one Alistair himself knows and not the one here either. That will just makes things even more complicated than they already are.]
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Cheerily, he covers his puzzlement as best he can, though it's still there at the back of his mind like a stream burbling beneath rock.]
You're underestimating how awkward it is to take a wrong turn and wind up in a fun house that could house a small army. [And talk about the Fifth Blight like it still needs stopping, for that matter.] I'd have an easier time believing in you and a mage getting cozy. Never thought I'd be saying something like that.
[Alistair's halt has him pausing in his steps and dragging his eyes from the numbered doors on his left to blink at the other man's intent question. There's that mention of Ostagar again.
Like most people, Anders had heard about King Cailan's death at Ostagar from tavern stories shared around the table, a piece of history that had rocked the foundations of Ferelden while leaving his personal circumstances little changed. He'd been busy evading templars at the time, only hearing about it from a safe distance. Alistair's interest in it catches him off guard a little. Ostagar hasn't crossed his mind in a while.]
Who survived? [His reply starts out slow as he thinks back.] I didn't take the Joining until the Wardens started rebuilding the order after, so I don't know much, but... well, it must have been you and the Hero of Ferelden, I suppose? I thought that was how the Wardens convinced the Circle the darkspawn threat was severe enough that they'd need to help. And made Uldred finally lose his marbles. You and the Hero of Ferelden started gathering allies once the battle was over.
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[Just to make that absolutely clear. He didn't want Anders getting it into his head that he was the type to go around 'getting cozy' with people. That was exactly the kind of reputation he didn't need.]
The Hero of Ferelden? He gets called the Hero of Ferelden?
[This Hero had to be the other Warden if it was King Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden. So Cousland. The Hero of Ferelden. Maker. A title like that would just do wonders for Warden Cousland's stunning personality... The Warden Cousland he knew anyway. The one here might not be insufferable after being named a Hero. Still, if it was given to him - them - for stopping the Blight there was no way it wasn't earned.
The mention of their visit to the Circle and Uldred's madness somehow, stupidly takes him by surprise. Of course Anders would have been a Circle mage. Had he been in the tower when things turned bad? He didn't remember the man's face but there had been a few slightly more pressing matters occupying him at the time so he could have easily missed Anders among the survivors.
First things first, he'd asked about the Warden for a reason.]
Do you know who this Hero is? [Presumably not since otherwise he would have said as much. Oh well. It wasn't like he really needed to convince Anders he wasn't crazy. Just because it would make his life so much easier why should he worry?] See, the other Warden here is named Cousland. Ah- Robyn Cousland. I only met her when I arrived here. In Ferelden I knew a Warden named Aedan Cousland who's not here. They're sort of the same person. Except not.
And yes, I know how that sounds. I'm still not crazy.
[If he keeps saying that he's going to begin to doubt it himself. Who else besides a crazy person needs to defend their sanity?]
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