A/N: This is my take on what could have happened. So commentary is welcome, and all readers are appreciated.
A/N: 'Tis been edited.
I don't own dragon age.
"And so It comes to me at last." The rage demon hissed. The mage watched as it rose from the ground. "Soon I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, creature. You shall be mine, body and soul." The mage snickered as his mousy 'companion' shied away from the 'terrifying' demon.
"That sounds like a dirty pick-up line, demon. And not a very good one, at that." A flash of ice and the demon sank back into the ground. "Now," The mage clapped his hands together, as if to dust them of debris. "Mouse. It seems you were given a task, here in the fade. The rage demon weeds out the weak. You weed out the stupid. Am I incorrect?"
The spirit regarded him for a moment, before a feral grin overtook his features. "Simply killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the fade are preconceptions, careless trust…pride." The human spirit glowed briefly, growing larger, with pointed black shoulders and horns, glowing red eyes gazing out at the mage. A pride demon. "Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end." The demon made to transport, before a large sword cleaved him in two, the separate pieces of the demon's face frozen briefly in shock before he disappeared, nonexistent, like everything that died in the fade.
"A demon is a demon. It doesn't matter whether or not you mean me harm. I won't let one go free when it so easily lowers its guard." The mage lowered the staff-turned-sword, before feeling the tug of true unconsciousness.
The redheaded elf sat up blearily, his shoulders shaken roughly. Jowan sighed with relief, before standing. "I was so worried! They brought you back in here earlier. We didn't even notice you were gone until they brought you back!" Xavier sat up, lowering his gaze to his hands. "What was it like?" He asked eagerly, "I've asked others, but they're not helpful at all."
"It was just a Harrowing, Jowan." The redheaded elf stood, smoothing his apprentice robes before reaching for a staff that was no longer there. Jowan gave him a look of confusion that quickly was replaced by frustration.
"First Enchanter Irving sent me to fetch you. You're needed in his office." Jowan finally spat, after having been refused the secrets of the Harrowing. Jowan stamped off, and Xavier set off through the library, grabbing loose bits of information from fellow mages and stealing abandoned notes on his way, greeting senior enchanters Niall and Sweeney.
In Irving's office, Gregoir-the knight-commander of the tower and Irvin himself were arguing.
"I have already sent enough of our own to aid the king's armies for this supposed 'Blight'! More mages are not needed." The knight-commander growled.
"Since when have the mages been your own? When they are out of the reach of your Templars? The Mages are needed aid to the king's armies." Irving countered with his cold logic.
Xavier stood silent, awaiting their notice. Finally, Irving glanced at Xavier, noticing him for the first time, and the argument ended. Gregoir left in a huff, as the First Enchanter greeted Xavier.
"Ah! Here he is! Xavier, I would like you to meet someone. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens. He has stopped at the tower and is looking for potential Grey Wardens."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grey warden." Xavier nodded to the older man. Duncan nodded in return.
"Well met." the First enchanter reached for a bundle of cloth, pressing it into Xavier's hands.
"These are your proper clothes," he said, not noticing the disgruntled look on the elf's face before going to a side closet and removing a large wooden pole-like object. "And this is your staff. Carry them with pride." The old man smiled, and Xavier merely nodded, before fully looking away from the grey warden he had been inspecting out of the corner of his eye.
"If that is all, First enchanter..?" Xavier retreated a step backwards towards the door.
"I would also like you to escort Duncan to his guest quarters on the far side of the tower. Duncan is our honored guest, and we will see to it that he is comfortable." The enchanter's face smiled, but Xavier could sense the want for Duncan to leave from the old man.
"Very well. I take my leave, First Enchanter." Xavier left the chamber quickly, his staff on his back and his new robes under his arm. Duncan easily matched his footsteps, the shorter male's legs quickly moving.
"So you're a Grey Warden, Ser Duncan?" Xavier didn't dare to let the hope he was feeling creep into his voice.
"I am." Duncan confirmed.
"I heard that during previous Blights, the Wardens rode on griffons into battle. I don't suppose there are any of those left though?" Xavier spared a small smile for the older man, and Duncan chuckled, but shook his head.
"The griffons of legends are just that now. Legends."
"Pity. Their existence always held a hopeful appeal for me." Xavier continued quickly, passing Cullen the Templar, and Owain the Tranquil.
"And what holds a hopeful appeal for you now?" Duncan questioned. Xavier regarded him with a look. "Well it certainly can't be what you currently have. You're unhappiness radiates from around you." Xavier resisted the urge to glare, but merely fixed his face with a blank look.
"It doesn't matter what I want. It only matters that I keep the world safe from myself." Xavier ground his teeth as he said it, his mind rebelling at the words forced from his mouth.
"But if you had a chance to leave the tower, would you do so?" Xavier's steps stuttered to a stop. A chance to leave the tower. To be under open sky around the trees and live things-his thought train broke off. He instead looked at the floor as he quickly left Duncan alone in his temporary quarters, his question unanswered.
Jowan found him directly after, and Xavier went to solve his friend's issues, instead of having to face the questions and problems of his own.
-•-•-
"They're going to make me tranquil! I can't lose Lily! We need your help to find my phylactery and destroy it."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" The elf asked warily. Xavier's new Mage robes were gold and brown and orange, the colors of fall, and they matched his fiery hair perfectly. Even Jowan had to admit his friend looked rather dangerous as he inquired.
"What else could there be to do? Let them make me tranquil? I can never do that." Jowan accentuated his thoughts with large, obnoxious hand movements. Lily merely stood by him, looking all proper and innocent, even as she prepared to break all of her precious chantry's rules for a lover. Which, mind you, was also against the rules. Xavier grimaced mentally. He would stand by his friend; years of pain were only punctuated by the loyalty the two held to each other. It was the least he could do. After all, it wasn't like he was a blood mage, or anything of the sort.
'-_- '-_-
"No! I won't let them take Lily!" The blood sprayed, and Lily and Xavier were knocked away from Jowan as the knights and others in front of him were injured and infected painfully by the dark magic.
"I can't believe you lied to me!" Lily's outcry seemed to wake Jowan from his daze, as he pulled his knife from his hand, the blood dripping onto the stones ominously. He had signed his own death sentence in blood.
"I only dabbled! I swear! Just when they were going to make me tranquil-" Jowan protested, but Lily shook her head tightly, hair loop flying.
"No Jowan. It's too late." Xavier stood, moving to curse his friend out, before stumbling to his knees again when Jowan used another spell to transport out of the tower, the quakes seeming to jostle even the construction of the tower. Jowan was officially a maleficar. Xavier's breath was forced from his body under the blast of a Holy Smite, his lungs burning as he struggled for breath, black dots crowding in his sight, and thrashing as his mana was ripped forcefully from his body, falling forward onto his hands and knees as he struggled.
"Enough! The blood Mage is gone!" Gregoir yelled belatedly, his voice bellowing at the surrounding Templars. Cullen stared at the helpless elf on the floor with pity, but also with awe, being hit by so many Holy Smites simultaneously and remaining conscious.
Xavier's vision returned to par as he was hauled to his feet limply, a Templar on each side. The two reigning forces at the tower fought over his innocence, but Xavier didn't care anymore. Didn't they realize there was a gaping hole in the wall..? Wouldn't they need to follow and capture Jowan as quickly as possible? The thought of Jowan's capture stirred no feeling but irritation. Finally, a dark haired figure intervened.
"If I may interrupt, Knight-commander. First Enchanter." Those in question looked at Duncan sharply. "I would like to conscript this Mage into the Grey Wardens. Talent on par with his should not be left to waste." The knight commander sputtered angrily, but could conceive no proper rebuttal. To be conscripted was looked upon as a misfortune.
"A wonderful idea, Duncan. Surely he will be an aid to your cause." The First Enchanter's voice was grave, but the elf no longer cared that the Grey warden was going on the old mage's word alone on his talents, instead staring in shock at the two. Xavier's stomach dropped. He was leaving the tower, for good? He would no longer be surrounded by stone walls and idiotic people with violent fear of the arcane. They argued on, and with time, another mage was summoned from her chambers. Xavier cringed internally as he saw the First Enchanter's intent to get Amell recruited as well.
"We must leave as soon as possible. I fear I have already been away from the other recruits as long as I dare to." Duncan's clipped tone gave the impression that the other recruits were not the only reason he wanted to leave. Xavier spared a look at the First Enchanter, who stared back at him with eyes of a beaten and guilty man. The elf looked away quickly, gritting his teeth as he kept a straight face, being led out the doors of the tower by Duncan, Amell following behind him. The First Enchanter knew. The bastard knew what he'd done!
When the three set out on the road away from lake Calenhad, the first thing Xavier did was pluck a flower from its stem. A random daisy, which he deposited into Amell's hair loop. She didn't seem to notice, as she was gazing about her, wide-eyed. Xavier smiled, taking in girl's simple and plainly delicate face. It was very pretty, he had to admit. Yet, he felt nothing but obligated to protect her, their friendship over past events the only thing that held any sort of alliance to the young woman. She was like a sister. His only family, elvhen or not.
"Where are we going?" Xavier asked finally, if only to distract himself from his own thoughts. "You said you were recruiting an army?" Duncan nodded.
"We are going to Ostagar. It sits in the Korcari forest to the south. It was used to defend the north from the Chasind people. It seems only fitting that we make our stand there, even if the enemy is different." Amell made a face.
"Ser Duncan, I've read that darkspawn are filthy and they turn the sky dark and they turn the land dead wherever they go. Is that true?" Silje asked, her eyes not straying from the horizon. The grey warden gave a dark chuckle.
"It is much more than just dead. It is a disease on the land, spreading only like death's hand could." Duncan revealed with remorse. Xavier stopped to pluck another long-stemmed flower, the red thing glowing slightly before it wilted and turned black, disintegrating in his grasp. Silje's eyes widened in surprise, the blue irises obnoxiously obvious in the dimming light of the sky. Xavier ignored her, flicking the ashes from his hand and picking another flower as they walked on, watching Duncan's back, the man's dagger and long sword glinting dangerously in the fading light.
When they arrived at Ostagar, the group of three was approached by a man in gold armor. "Ho, there, Duncan! I was beginning to think you'd miss all the fun." The man in armor was obviously someone royal. The only person Xavier could think of to fit the definition was-
"Not if I could help it, your majesty." Duncan replied, ever serious.
"Then I will have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious! The other wardens told me you'd found another recruit." The king looked to see the two mages, his eyes lingering on Silje before he smiled widely.
"Allow me to introduce you, your majesty." Duncan started.
"No need to be so formal, Duncan! We'll be shedding blood together after all!" He smiled again and Silje laughed quietly. "Ho there, friends! It's nice to see some of the mages out from the tower and about." Xavier forced a smile, but inwardly seethed. Silje beamed with the attention.
"I can hardly believe I'm actually out here! I'd nearly given up hope!" she smiled brightly, and Xavier grimaced, glancing at Duncan. The Grey Warden's attention was focused solely on the King.
"What about you, our pointy-eared friend? Do you also feel the freedom of the open air?" Cailan meant it positively, but Xavier frowned.
"Ah yes. If my friend hadn't nearly killed me on his escape of the tower with blood magic, I'd be much happier. But currently, I am content with the fact that my head still resides upon my shoulders." He gave a small smile. "Thanks to Ser Duncan, of course."
Duncan gave him a look. "Your majesty, this is Xavier Surana, and Silje Amell. They are the new Grey Warden recruits I picked up at the Circle Tower on my way returning from Orzammar."
"It is a pleasure to meet you both. I'm sure your contributions to the force will be astounding." He had his eyes on Silje alone smiling happily, so the king didn't notice when the elf mage slipped away.
Xavier could hear still Duncan over his shoulder as he continued over the busted up bridge alone. Xavier paused midway over the bridge and looked down. Rocks, dirt, and other unpleasant things reminiscent of battle layered the ground far beneath the elf's feet. The redhead closed his eyes, letting the strong wind whip at his robes and ruffle his spiked blood-colored hair. His light blue eyes watered slightly in the biting wind, but he stood alone for another moment before finishing crossing the bridge and meeting another guard.
"You must be the new recruit." A voice made him pause, and Xavier noticed a guard, his features were mostly hidden beneath his helmet, but he was kind-faced, so Xavier stopped for directions.
"I am. Would you happen know which directions the Warden's encampments are?" The guard was more than happy to point the elf in the correct direction, though Xavier could feel the lingering suspicious gaze as he walked away. He cursed the robes as he walked, feeling the things getting tangled around his ankles. The fade-striders he'd come into were no better, made for walking inside on smooth stone, they were quickly being worn away by the exterior elements and rough rocks.
He hesitated at the edge of the tents around the Grey Warden's bonfire. The fire was surrounded by people talking and drinking as the light in the sky dimmed by the hour. He heard footsteps coming up behind him, and turned to look up, then continued... and finally stopped when his neck had a nice crick in it.
"Whoa." Xavier muttered under his breath as the giant looked down to look at him as well. The man was nearly eight feet tall, to Xavier's less than five and a half feet. He wore massive plate armor, and carried a greatsword, one big enough he could see the handle over the giant's shoulder. He had wild chin-length black hair, and was rather dark skinned with dark eyes.
"I hear you're one of the new recruits." he started. "A mage and an elf. You must have had to work hard." Xavier frowned, both of his main faults clearly out for everyone to see. His robes marked him, his ears marked him, and even his red hair marked him. All in different ways.
"I am." Xavier straightened, though his height wasn't improved any. "I am Xavier." The giant man smiled at him.
"Well met, Xavier. I think you'll find yourself with great luck in this lot. I am Belson." He offered his hand, and Xavier shook it, though his smaller hand was nearly engulfed. "I am one of the more senior wardens. Have you met the others yet?" Xavier shook his head. "Yeah, a couple dwarves arrived two days ago, with a Dalish elf, and before that, a city elf from the city of Denerim." He paused, and scratched his stubble-covered chin. "I feel like I'm missing one." The giant muttered. A large, gauntleted hand clasped onto Belson's shoulder, and a smaller human came up beside him.
"That would be me. I can't believe you forgot about me, Belson, I'm terribly insulted. And after all the sparring matches you beat me up in too." The human with the noble accent wore medium chainmail, as well as a sword on his back. He turned to Xavier, bowing slightly to the elf. "My name is Rowan Cousland- I'm one of your fellow recruits."
"Well met." Xavier bowed in return.
"Belson, have you seen Alistair around?" The giant pointed vaguely off into the distance.
"He went to fetch someone. I'll be over with the others." Belson trudged off, and pulling out a flask and drinking heavily from it.
"Come with me and help me find Alistair real quick, I'm sure he'd be glad to meet you." Rowan walked off whistling without looking back to check if he was being followed, and Xavier felt obliged to follow the insufferably cheerful man, though his robes kept getting tangled. He stumbled, and cursed Irving. Just because it was probably Irving's fault they were too big.
"You know," Rowan commented, after his fourth near-fall, "I've never really understood the need for those robes. Aren't they hard to fight in?" Rowan asked. The noble glanced over his shoulder at him, and Xavier nodded once, though raised an eyebrow incredulously.
"They're not made for easy mobility. I hate them. They're annoying. Just like this oversized walking stick. Though I doubt that anyone thought of the difficulties of a fighting mage when they made these. If nothing else, it's to make us easier to catch and kill for the Templars." Xavier sighed. Rowan nodded grimly, changing the subject quickly.
"So you probably don't have supplies, since you were traveling with Duncan since you left the tower, then." Rowan said with a laugh. The elf nodded. "We'll make a stop at the Quartermaster's before finding Alistair then." Rowan led the elf through the camp grounds, passing several different areas, the ash warrior' camp, the kennels, and passing by the mage's tents before reaching the smith's place. Rowan examined his armor for things in need of repair while Xavier got the attention of the smith. He cleared his throat.
"Excuse me-" He began, only to be interrupted by a grunt and a clang of metal as the smith shifted around his stock of weaponry.
"You there, elf! Where's my armor, and why are you dressed so preposterously?" The quarter master asked over his shoulder with a glance.
"If you cared to notice, you would realize that I am not your servant." Xavier's tone was patronizing. The quartermaster straightened, and his eyes raked over the elven mage before he apologized profusely for the mistake. "I want to buy some supplies. What do you have?" The quartermaster made a face, before turning to his stockpile and rummaging through it. After Xavier secured a dagger and some heavier boots, and he bought the quartermaster's entire supply of poultices and lyrium potions with a proper leather pouch, before he discarded his older boots. Rowan examined the thin leather foot-coverings with interest.
"You actually wore these all the way here?" He asked, lifting one and tearing the leather completely as he attempted to stretch it. The quartermaster gave him an annoyed look, but they both ignored him. Xavier looked over from where he was packing the vials of fluid into his pack.
"Yes I did. Seeing as I was not barefoot the entire way." Rowan shook his head in amazement.
"You must be nearly skin and bones to have not worn a hole right though these. Do they not feed you at the tower?" He asked, "Because I'm sure there's a rule against that somewhere..."
"There isn't, and I am perfectly healthy. And-" The elf protested and rolled his eyes at the human's laughing ones, abandoning his protests. "I'm just extremely light on my feet. And... they were magically preserved." He admitted.
"Enchanted shoes? Is there anything you mages don't have?" He laughed.
"Well there is one thing in short supply..." Xavier trailed off, his face and voice taking on a serious and grave tone. "Pants. Honestly, the Mages, the Templars! They all like skirts! It's slightly worrying, for sure." The redhead sighed dramatically, though it was unheard over Rowan's booming laughter.
The two came upon a senior mage and a soldier in splintmail arguing. "And here I was going to name my kid after you. The grumpy one." The solder snorted, and the Mage hissed something at him before stiffly turning and stalking away. The mage knocked into Xavier on the way by, muttering to himself about young ignorance and disrespect.
"It's great how the Blight brings people together." The soldier, that Xavier surmised had to be Alistair, said.
"What a terrible thing to say, Alistair." Rowan chided the blonde jokingly. He merely laughed it off.
"You're not the first to say that, Rowan. So this is the new recruit? Duncan said your skills were quite impressive." Alistair didn't look quite impressed though. Xavier could tell that the blonde was a Templar from his demeanor, and his supply of mana. Most likely ex-templar now though in his current situation.
"Yes. Though I highly doubt that great Ser Duncan's letter would have mentioned me. He was probably referring to the other recruit mage we traveled here with. Silje Amell. Her skills are much more admirable than mine." Xavier smiled tightly, and Alistair's face faltered. "Oh! He must not have sent word that there were two of us. My name is Xavier." He offered his hand, and Alistair reluctantly shook it, to proud to back down from the barely-there challenge.
Rowan looked between the two, opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it and absently stroking his stubble instead. "Duncan wanted to speak with you, since the new recruits are here. I'm going to go and fetch Ser Jory and Daveth. Alistair, take Xavier back to the Warden's encampment."
Alistair gave Rowan a scathing look, but Rowan was already walking away, whistling that insufferable happy tune again. Xavier started walking away before Alistair, so the blonde had no other choice than to jog slightly to catch up, lest he be caught following a mage around. And how in the world did an elf walk so quickly? What about their short legs? "I didn't know that the Templars let their charges walk free, Alistair." The elf said casually. "It must be nice to be off that leash, right?" Alistair glared silently. "You are obviously a Templar, right? You just didn't finish officially?" Xavier gave him a sideways glance. The elf could sense no lyrium dependency in the splintmail-clad soldier. Alistair couldn't tell if the elf was mocking him, or just asking him simple questions.
"You are correct. I have all the training, I just didn't take my vows." Alistair stared decidedly straight ahead, so he didn't notice the young robed woman approaching them from a side path.
"You're lucky then." Alistair whipped his head to the side, incredulous. Xavier raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "What? You have all the perks of the job without the downside." Alistair went to protest or question, but the two were met by a young woman. Alistair was struck with her pretty face with barely past the shoulder-length long black hair, and soft, lightly burned skin, until he finally realized she was wearing the robes marking her as a mage out of the tower. He felt a pang, hearing the echoes of the preaching that specifically warned against mages. Silje grabbed onto Xavier, shaking him roughly, though the elf kept smiling that tiny, annoyed smile through the ordeal.
Alistair caught something in her string of words that sounded like 'worrying about the tiny mage' and being 'lost with no help'. The woman's hair had a two braids hanging in the front on the opposing sides, with two more braids connecting in the back, with beautiful flowers interwoven into the connecting braid, ones that matched her red and brown robes. Xavier managed to extract himself from her grasp, and was now leading her to the camp on his own. Alistair scoffed. The ridiculous elf hadn't needed a guide in the first place! The blonde turned and stomped off to take the shorter route to the Warden's camp, just because he could because he knew where it was. So ha, he thought at the mage as he stomped.
"Silje! What are you doing?" Xavier finally asked. His face was reddened from the rush of blood returning to his face after Silje nearly suffocated him. The black-haired woman was nearly in hysterics, her hair astray, and her burnt face seeming to burn with heat even from the distance they were apart.
"I could find you and then I was worried when I saw the Templars because I know you don't like them much and then I saw all of the huge men in armor and I got lost after I talked to one of them and forgot which way I came from." She took a breath, and then sagged slightly. "There are so many people here. And I didn't read books like you. I don't understand any of this military stuff. I only know how to heal people and break things..!" She broke off at the end, looking depressed, and Xavier patted her head understandingly. She swatted his hand away.
"And yet you're the only one in the tower as adept at healing as you are." She looked up from his shoulder, and he smiled. "I know you faked it in class. You settle for mediocre when your skill could surpass the teacher's. Irving knew this, the insufferable cod, and sent you out into the real world so you could show everyone else. Be happy he believes in you." He removed her hands from his robe, and then motioned in the direction of camp. "Your knowledge will be useful in the long-run. Mine is only useful for battle. Be happy." He repeated, and then led the way to the camp. Silje wiped at her eyes, waving to Senior Enchanter Wynne as they passed her at the Circle mage's encampment.
Belson waved at the two of them as they entered the tented area where the Grey Wardens were camping. As Xavier went to cross to speak to Belson, when a young blonde elven woman stepped in front of them. She wore chain mail and had a multitude of braids in her chin-length cherry-blonde hair, the light green of her eyes catching in the bonfire's light, her intricate facial tattoo was barely visible in the dim lighting conditions. She looked them both over, before frowning.
"I heard that mages were nothing but unstoppable machines, intent upon death and suffering, whispering to demons in corners and cursing small children. Though I also heard that they were useless without magic, like a fishing pole with no line." Xavier glared at her, and Silje straightened slightly as the young woman's eyes pierced her as well, calculating. Xavier pushed Silje to the side and away from the two as he ducked the woman's kick, the dirt grinding into his knees as he hit the ground.
He swiped at the woman's ankle with his hand, and yanked, making her lose balance and do a backward roll to catch herself. She kicked out at his chest, knocking him on his back and into the hard dust. He lost his breath, but managed to roll to side to avoid her fast punch to the face. He caught a small glimpse of Duncan's bemused face as he rolled to his feet, out of the way of another sweeping kick. She managed to make him stumble when she caught the tip of his foot with her sweep. She swiped out at his face with her fists, forcing him back as he stumbled again over his robes. He barely dodged to the side, her knuckles catching his shoulder and grabbed her wrist on its by. His other hand latched out and grabbed her elbow, and he stamped on her foot before he spun her and twisted her arm behind her back, pressing her to the ground with his knee, and holding her head down with his other hand.
He was panting heavily, from the amount of exertion after years out of actual fights. The practice he'd done in the tower wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. The sit-ups done on the dormitory beds wasn't enough, the push-ups done regularly before and after lessons weren't enough. He pushed the woman forward, letting her go before he heard it. Clapping. A gathered circle of soldiers and Wardens had surrounded the two, and they cheered for the fight's result. He didn't bother to look up, offering his hand to the disgruntled woman before hefting her up to her feet.
"It seems that you might have heard wrong." He stated, even as he wiped the gathering sweat from his forehead. "A fishing pole with no line can still be a spear." He rasped, his breath hard to catch from the kick to the chest. She eyed him carefully before holding out a hand to shake. He clasped it firmly, and smiled in return.
"It seems that I did." She shook her hand out, popping the bones loudly. "My name is Artemis Tabris. A fellow recruit." She glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. He did as well, squinting as he took in the figure of an enraged Amell charging toward the two of them, followed by Duncan and Alistair, as well as a small crowd of others. "I must apologize for attacking you, but I wouldn't have broken anything, even if you weren't skilled." Artemis took the opportunity to slip away, and Xavier raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but shook his head at her as Silje reached him, her hands fluttering over him, before settling on his aching chest with both of her hands, as they radiated cool white light. Xavier hissed slightly in discomfort, but stayed still.
"What in the world were you thinking! Of all the things. Really, Xavier, if I weren't around you'd be in pain for days." She removed her hands from his chest and put them on either side of her hips. Xavier thanked her as Duncan approached. "But really, you are such a pain yourself," she muttered, and ignored his glare.
The group of Grey Warden recruits gathered around the bonfire around Duncan, who called them to attention for their next task. Rowan had his arms crossed on his chest, mimicking Alistair from behind. There were also two dwarves and another elf with Dalish armor and blood tattoos covering his entire face came in the back, his face pale even in the dim light. Two humans hovered near the back, one in duster leather and another in chain mail. Duncan addressed all of them when he turned his back to the huge bonfire.
"Tomorrow you will go into the Korcari wilds. You are to gather a vial of darkspawn blood for every recruit, to be used in the Joining ritual." Duncan's voice was serious, and Rowan stopped mimicking Alistair behind the his back to listen.
"This ritual seems kinda sketchy. Do we get any details before we go through this?" The human in duster leather asked.
"The ritual is the induction into the Grey Wardens. We know that we have to go through it to become one, so why do the details matter, Daveth?" A deep reverberating voice came from the male dwarf. The one named Daveth grimaced and looked at his boots, kicking stones irritatingly.
"You will also need to use this map to find a chest in the long-lost warden-built tower in the wilds. Inside it are ancient documents we will need to collect." Duncan continued after Daveth was silent. Duncan nodded, and passed a map to Alistair.
"Since I am the Junior warden, I will be accompanying you into the wilds." Alistair picked up where Duncan left off.
"Do we really need you with us?" Artemis asked sullenly. Alistair frowned at her, and Duncan intervened.
"Yes. Because Alistair will be able to tell where the darkspawn are in the wilds, so you aren't ambushed and killed." He deadpanned. Artemis scowled at him, but remained silent. Duncan finished with a slightly encouraging lecture, one that made Xavier start to yawn, despite his best attempts to hold it off. Duncan smiled slightly, before dismissing them to their tents.
The dwarf, Farrent, was tasked with leading the mages to their new tents. Silje disappeared into her tent under the flap, and Xavier thanked Farrent and turned to do the same. The dwarf cleared his throat, and Xavier glanced back over his shoulder, waiting for him to speak. "You know, Artie really doesn't have anything against mages, she just likes to test people." Farrent scratched at his beard, tugging on one of his many braids. "To find their true nature, I think."
"I thought as much." Xavier smiled at the dwarf, whose smallish brown eyes were flecked with mischief.
"You really held your own against the elven lass, Red. Glad to know that mages aren't just for show." Xavier lifted his chin, before smiling a half smile.
"It's Xavier. And that was nothing. I'd like to see your reaction to actual magic. I doubt you've seen much, as a dwarf. Or any, if your opinion is that mages are for show." The branded tattoo on his cheekbone twitched as Farrent smiled.
"Well. I doubt you'll be able to handle the ferocity of my axe tomorrow. I'll be cutting 'em down 'fore you even get your walking stick out to poke 'em with." Xavier scoffed in disbelief.
"I know that I'll kill more of them than you, and I'll only have my 'walking stick' as you so helpfully put it."
"I'll take you up on that challenge. 'Night, Red." Farrent walked to his own tent and went inside before Xavier took a deep breath and fell onto his own sleeping roll in exhaustion.