A/N: This little drabble was written in response to a challenge issued on the Cheeky Monkeys of Dragon Age Forum to write a DA cross-over fic. No rules about what DA was to be crossed with so…Here I should probably post apologies, except that I'm pretty sure that my apology list would end up being a complete story of its own and you probably wouldn't want to read that. Even less than this one.
So…laces on my runners have been firmly tied…over to you folks…
-oo-
Summer Nights in Soldier's Peak
It was late. The Blight Wolf had taken more time than Magnus thought was necessary to dock at Amaranthine. Eager to be back at Soldier's Peak and home again, he had chosen to continue his journey overnight, rather than stay in the harbour city. By the time he had navigated the circuitous route through the underground passages to the old fortress, it was close to dawn and by sheer instinct, managed to locate his own quarters, staggering into bed fully clothed and exhausted beyond belief.
As he slumbered, his Fade spirit wandered the ghost-chilled halls of Weisshaupt until the afternoon bells pulled him back to the solid world. Both thankful for a change in scenery and resenting the curbing of much needed sleep, Magnus slid out of bed with a thump and clank.
It took him several moments to remind himself where he was. His bed; his abysmally small living area; his table and chairs; his stone, his tower, his window…his castle. His…Magnus looked about the room, searching for the familiar tufty lump of his mabari, Pookie. He had been unable to take the wardog with him to Weisshaupt, lending his beloved hound to his brother for breeding purposes instead, but Pookie had been scheduled to be returned to Soldiers Peak before his return. Of all those Magnus Cousland had expected to see first thing, it was his mabari.
Stripping off armour and accoutrements, Magnus washed the last of the travel dirt and donned the familiar mail and surcoat with the double Griffons of the 'slightly off-duty' Warden Commander's uniform and left the room in search of his mabari and food.
In that order.
To his surprise, he found neither, but in their place located his second in command looking rather lost and confused in the mess hall.
"Hail, Alistair!" Magnus yelled out across the open space.
His Warden compatriot turned, shoulders slumping in what appeared to be sheer relief. "Oh! Thank the Maker and all his little shoe elves for your return!" Alistair exclaimed. "The world's gone mad!"
The man staggered as though injured towards Magnus, grasping at his Warden Commander's shoulders unable to support himself. "Make them stop! Andraste's burning spit roast, make them stop!"
"Stop what?" Magnus thought he should ask.
"The…" Alistair looked left. He looked right. He looked directly into Magnus' deep green eyes and almost cried. "The singing…Oh Maker…the singing…!"
Alarmed for his friend, Magnus helped his Second into the nearest chair. Fanning him with a hand, Magnus clutched at Alistair's arm. "Tell me, friend. Tell me everything. What do you mean, 'singing'?"
"I…I don't know…" Alistair spoke in a dreamlike voice, slightly detached. "I finished up in Denerim early yesterday. Before I left, the Dwarves had announced they'd found something, while excavating some of the underground entrance tunnels. Something important, they said. Dear Andraste, I'd never thought it would come to this! Whatever it is they found, it's turned them…it's turned them…"
As Alistair spoke, an odd humming noise came to his notice, vibrating uncomfortably at the base of his ears. Alistair whimpered and cowered. A moment later Anders and Nate burst through the mess hall doors. Magnus gaped. Alistair began to cry.
His Wardens were wearing leather.
Not so unusual was the leather-wearing in general…but the style was…Magnus could not put a finger onto it. Worn at hip length with a pair of workman's blue-dyed trousers, both men left their…high-collared short coats open. Even Anders had abandoned his customary avian decoration for tiny metal dots, arranged in strange patterns on the arms and back. They both walked…strangely with a bouncing, swaggering gait that did not sit well with either man.
Anders was the first to spot Magnus, his brown eyes lighting up. "Heyy! It's the boss!"
"The leader of the Pack!" Nate chimed in.
Alistair tried to crawl under the table, but Anders was upon him, throwing an arm around the distressed warden and ruffling his hair affectionately.
"Soooo…" Nate drawled. "Weisshaupt? Tell us alllll about it."
Magnus' gaze was drawn inexorably to the top of both Wardens' heads. They appeared to have grape fruit-shaped hair balls attached to their fore-skulls. "Uh…" Magnus began. "Is there…" he frowned. "Why do the both of you smell like axle grease?"
Both men responded by producing combs from their pockets and proceeded to comb their grape fruit hairdos. In tandem.
"Axle grease?" Anders chuckled. "Come on boss…"
"Yeah…" Nate chimed in again. "Spill the beans! I want to hear the whole, dirty tale…"
Dirty? Well, Magnus could tell them the Blight Wolf had not been particularly pristine and he had seen more than one unhappy bilge rat, but…"Well, it's a bit…" Magnus began, when Nate interrupted with an odd chanting noise.
"Do do, do do, do do, do do do…do do…"
"What?" Magnus gaped at the man, wondering why he was bobbing up and down with each 'do do'. Did they need to relieve themselves? Coming from a recent sea journey, Magnus could understand if such activity occurred on a ship. It was quite often necessary in order to maintain one's balance by attempting to rock in time with the constantly moving boat. However, this was dry land and neither man needed to mimic a jack-in-the-box with a broken latch.
"Tell me more, tell me more!" Anders sang suddenly.
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa!" Nate concluded.
The Warden Commander pinned each man with a stern, Warden Commanderish glare. "Have either of you been at Oghren's stash?" he demanded.
"Oghren!" the two of them repeated, sharing a wink. "The new girl! She's hot!"
"What?"
"Come on boss!" Anders grabbed his arm, while Nate extracted Alistair from under the table again. "Or we're gonna be late for the cart race at the old mill!"
"Yeah man," Nate gave his head an appreciative shake. "Dworkin's fixed our wheels. Whoo!"
"It's mage-o-matic!" Anders whooped rather unnecessarily. "It's Chantry Sister-matic!"
"It's Warden Lightning!" Nate announced to no one in particular.
"See what I mean?" Alistair gasped, clutching feverishly at Magnus' sleeve as the two of them were led (or in Alistair's case, dragged) from the mess hall. "It's been like this since I came back. The world's gone mad I tell you! Mad! Mad!"
The two mysteriously leather-clad Wardens took them towards the Fortress' main exit and courtyard. As the old stone stairs leading to the Fortress proper were steep, it afforded a grand view of the U-shaped grounds below. The view included the sparring yard, blacksmith's workshop, stables and approach to the two tall gatehouses, portcullis and…dancing.
Not just any dancing.
It was dancing.
And.
Singing.
Together.
Badly.
"Maker preserve us!" Magnus murmured.
"I don't think I can take any more of this…" Alistair sobbed behind him.
Magnus' eyes narrowed. "What's that circular spinning thing by the gate?" he asked. How did I miss that last night?
"It's a carnival wheel, duhhh…" Nate snickered at him.
"Why are people skipping around it?" Magnus asked, because clearly he needed to know, his eyes inexorably drawn to a large wooden box beside the 'carnival wheel'. It was painted to look like a rocking ship and had people in it. And in pride of place, on a raised podium…honestly, how did I miss all of this…?...was a wheeled convenience of some kind, except it was not a farmer's cart, wagon or wain, but narrower, with larger wheels affixed to the rear than the front.
It was painted in bright yellow paint with red flames along the side.
The horses, Magnus observed, were also painted yellow with similar red flames, which in Magnus' opinion was animal cruelty because it was a well known fact that horses were colour-blind and it was mean to pretend that they would care what colour they were.
To his horror, the skipping rope of dancing, singing Wardens and - was that Oghren at the front? – snaked its way towards them, hands waving in the air. The bearded dwarf Warden was wearing what appeared to be a leather sock several sizes too small, outlining every love handle, curve and bulge that – in Oghren's case - was always best concealed by several, thick millimetres of the best plate metal money could buy. Worse…or perhaps better (Magnus could not decide which), the dwarf's normally shortish hair had been teased, bullied and harassed into some kind of bouffant that made him look like a depressed dandelion.
"Did I…" Magnus began thoughtfully, "…hit my head somewhere and wake up on the wrong side of the Fade?"
The dancing skippers were now close enough to hear singing: "…together…we go together…"
"I've heard of bonding exercises, but this is a tad…overdone, perhaps?" Magnus suggested.
When the line of dancers reached them, Alistair yelped, clamping his hands over his ears. "For the love of the Maker!" he whined in distress. Somewhere, amidst the cacophony and pelvic gyration, sounded a canine howl; a hollow cry of despair that could only have come from…
"Pookie!"
"Like rama lama lama, a dinga dinga ding dong!" Nate chirruped, as he and Anders joined the line of dancers.
The tidal wave of discordant, yet catchy music crashed upon the Warden Commander and his Second in Command, sweeping them down the stairs. The howl sounded again. Over there!
Magnus saw a gap in the dancers and made a desperate dash through it, closely followed behind by Alistair; the latter with his arms wrapped around his head. The two Wardens pelted across the grounds, churning up chunks of dirt. "This way!" Magnus skidded sideways, vaulted over the stable fence, leapt from hay bale to hay bale and then dove through the stable doors. At the same time as Alistair frantically propped pitchforks, wheelbarrows and anything heavy against the stable doors, a dark shape exploded out of the dim, knocking Magnus backwards and covered him liberally in canine curses and sticky drool.
"Pooks! Oh thank the Maker you're alright!"
The mabari's bottom wriggled so fast in such relieved happiness that the bats roosting in amongst the rafters took flight from the ensuing sonic boom. Magnus wrestled the hound to the ground. "It's fine. Daddy's home now Pooks. I won't let them make you dance, never fear!"
"Hey, help me with this…"
Magnus stood to assist his Second to shift a hefty pair of carved wood draught horse harnesses, standing them against the stable doors, just in case.
When the two of them were finished, Wardens and Mabari shared a look of cautious relief.
"Well…" Alistair began.
"Well," Magnus sighed.
"What do we do now?" Alistair asked.
Magnus wiped his brow with a sleeve. He looked down on his wardog. He pressed his ear up against the stable doors. Faintly he could still hear the odd 'shananananana' or 'wop baba loo-mop a-wop bam boom!'; the last sounding horribly and suspiciously like Justice's voice.
Magnus looked at his terrified second-in-command.
There was only one thing to do.
"Wanna have your ears pierced?" Magnus asked.
Alistair shrugged.
"I guess. Yeah."
THE END