Title: Snow
Characters: Alistair, f!Brosca (But this could easily be about a f!Aeducan), Morrigan, Sten, Dog
Spoilers: None actually.
Rating: G (Fluffy fic is fluffy and silly)
Words: 860
Summary: The surface is a rough and unfamiliar place, there are a lot of things to adjust to when you've spent your entire life beneath stone. Weather in all forms is a new experience for our new Warden. This happens somewhere near the beginning of the game most likely right after Lothering.
Authors Note: I will ask you to forget for a moment that every time you visit Orzammar it's covered in snow. You don't know, maybe Duncan and the recruit left in the summer time.
Night watch was a tedious endeavor at the best of times, but when Alistair found himself paired with Sten for the night the task seemed never ending. He watched his muted, unmoving companion and sighed. His attempts at conversation long since abandoned. But no Darkspawn had accepted an invitation to their party, only the dreamy large snow flakes which had been falling for hours now. The tents were barely visible beneath the blanket left by the flurries. It cast a cleansing white purity to the scared land. Alistair nudged the fire he had been faithfully tending since that evening. They would reach Redcliff in the morning.
The scream jarred Alistair he dropped the stick. His sword was in his hand before the thought of lifting it had entered his mind. "Warden! What is it?!" he bellowed dashing toward the tent. He grabbed the canvas flap but then paused, loosening his grip. His many days and nights spent at the chantry had made him reluctant to simply burst into a woman's room without explicit permission. "Is everything alright in there?" he asked, fist still clenched around the hilt of his sword.
It was difficult to hear anything through the thick tarp. Only muffled disjointed words made it past the cloth. "Surrounded…. ate all the color…. Darkspawn attack…..must be….. can't come out….dangerous."
"What?" the fair haired ex templar questioned bewildered. He heard Sten growl disgruntled as he silently moved back toward the edge of the encampment. Alistair relaxed. If Sten felt there was no immediate danger, there most likely wasn't any. His attention turned once again to their hidden leader. "Are you alright?"
"Do I sound alright!" snapped a muffled voice.
"Peachy," drawled Alistair sarcastically.
"What happened to the camp?"
Alistair turned his head slowly from side to side and shrugged. "Is this a trick question?" In the silence that followed he could almost feel the icy glare through the tent. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Nothing, nothing has happened to the camp."
"Do you think I'm an idiot Alistair"
He pondered the question for a moment. "Not particularly, but then again I haven't known you very long. Perhaps you are just hiding it well. I think if you asked Morrigan though, she would say that…"
"Alistair!" snapped the woman. "What is the dust falling from the sky? Is it a weapon of some sort?"
"What you mean the snow?" the corner of his mouth twitched, "You, you're afraid of" he could keep the chuckle from escaping "the snow?" the little snicker quickly deteriorated into full fledged laughter.
"Stop laughing" the flustered mumble was just barely audible.
He coughed. It took him several moments regain his composure. "It's not a weapon," he managed to say, whipping the tears from his eyes.
"What is it then?" she muttered, sounding embarrassed.
Alistair thought for a moment, this was never something he had needed to explain before. He thought back on an earlier conversation. "Well its like rain I guess. Except this is what happens to it when it is very cold."
"Does that mean there will be thunder?" she asked cautiously.
"No, snow and thunder don't generally coincide."
There was another long pause, "So it isn't dangerous…."
He laughed again but managed to disguise it as clearing his throat. "No, perfectly safe."
After several minutes later a single bare, pale, stout foot slipped from the door of the tent and tentatively glided down till just a single toe made contact with the snow. She withdrew it as though it had touched fire. "It's cold… and wet"
"I say, that's an apt description of a few of our companions." said Alistair
"All right, I'm coming out" the woman pronounced.
"Such courage! If you can overcome something as terrifying as Ferelden's seasons, we'll have no trouble with an Archdemon" he teased.
She grunted something at him and pulled the flap back on the tent. She took a deep breath and stepped into the white abyss.
Something cold and wet hit her square in the cheek covering the right side of her face. She turned her head very slowly toward Alistair and glowering at him as bits of snow slowly dripped down her neck. He was doubled over howling with laughter.
What followed was not exactly what one would call 'appropriate behavior for the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden'. The ruckus they were making and the flying clumps of snow woke the near by sleeping mibari who barreled after the two barking enthusiastically tussled there way toward the center of camp.
Morrigan had emerged earlier than usual for her little corner of solitude in order pick some elfroot she had spotted on the other side of camp. She scowled at the two. "For the love of.." she spat at them with disdain.
They paused in their rough housing. "So cold" chattered Alistair shivering as his companion forcefully patted the front of his metal breast plate, more tightly compacting the large amount of snow she had managed to shove down the man's shirt against his chest.
She rolled her eyes. "If the two of you are our only hope against the Blight we are surely doomed."