I don't own Dragon Age and I ain't making any money off this. This is slash fiction so don't read if you don't want too...
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Joren Amell had first noticed the change when they had dealt with the child Mage, Connor, in Redcliffe. Well, that wasn't completely true. He had gotten angry when Alistair had told him of Isholde sending him away as a child, but he hadn't yet come to realize his feelings had changed towards his best friend.
Then they made it to Denerim, and that shrew of a woman that Alistair called his sister had said awful things to the Templar. It had taken every bit of Joren's considerable self-control not to blast the woman where she stood. Only Alistair's shaky request to leave had stopped him.
He pulled himself together and told his friend, 'You don't need her. You have other people that care about. I care about you.'
He had meant those words. Of course he cared about Alistair. They fought together for over a year at that point and the Templar was a very easy man to like. But Joren still didn't see it.
Growing up in the Mage Tower you're not exactly encouraged to have relationships with anyone. And even at twenty two years of age Joren hadn't had any real experience with love, or sex for that matter. Therefore, he was quite slow to differentiate between feelings friendship and that of love.
It wasn't until Lohgain's little henchwoman had 'arrested' the wardens that Joren knew something had changed in him.
He awoke in Fort Drakon, barely clothed and alone. And terrified. More scared than he could ever remember being before.
"Alistair!" he yelled, or at least he tried. It came out as barely a croak. He wasn't worried for himself only for Alistair. He knew they had been brought to this place together. "Leliana! Wynne!"
He yelled for Alistair again and this time his voice rang out clearly. His hand, no his finger felt different. I weight was there that he wasn't normally used too. A silver band with a blue crystal barely noticeable was now on his finger. He knew the ring almost instantly. He had found at the Mage Tower right after the start of their quest. Joren had thought it belonged more to Alistair than to him. The Templar had accepted the gift without hesitation, and Joren hadn't seen him without it since.
It worried the mage that he was now wearing the ring. However, at the same time, it brought him assurance that Alistair had been the one to place upon his hand and the he could be far away.
Joren quickly looked around for signs of his other companions, but he knew that only Alistair and he had been under arrest for crimes against the crown. Memories of how he'd gotten to this place were few and far between. He remembered be willing to go with Ser Cauthrien in hopes of securing some type of peace with the woman. But apparently her loyalty to Loghain was too high, and Joren only ended up here despite himself.
He let his voice call out once again for his friend, and this time he received a reply .It wasn't the familiar, kind voice that he was hoping for though.
"Quite down, Traitor." a man practically spat at him as he approached the barred cell. A bear of a man, he was dressed in armor that befitted his station. The guard was easily several inches taller than Alistair. Had Joren been another man, he may have been intimidated since he, himself was an inch or two short than his friend.
However, Joren wasn't another man.
"Where is he?" It was almost less of a question and my more of a demand.
"Don't worry about your friend. We've got him tied to the rack at the moment, but I'll have him back to you safely soon. Well, not dead at least." the guard chuckled as he spoke and started to left the room.
Red flashed behind his eyes and he was raising his hands to release the sudden heat building in his stomach. He didn't recall ever being this angered in his life. Even when he was a young boy he was exceptionally good at controlling his emotions. However, this time Joren called forth none of that self-control. He reached out his mind, stopping the man's slow retreat, and pulling him through the air to slam him into the bars of the cell.
Joren looked into the man's eyes and saw none of the hardy mirth that had been present moments ago.
"You are all fools if you thought this cell would hold me! Where is he?" he could barely keep from screaming the last part into the man's face. His captor wasn't foolish enough to make him ask twice.
"He's three door down on the right, second hall out that door." the man managed to wheeze out as his body was pressed against the metal bars.
And that was it.
When the guard thought it was even remotely humorous to joke about Alistair being dead. That was when it snapped sharply into focus for Joren.
He was in love with Alistair. And suddenly killing one of the men that sought to bring him harm didn't seem distasteful to Joren. In fact, he realized he was willing to kill to keep Alistair alive. The thought in itself scared Joren a little, but at the same time felt right.
When his attention returned to the man in his mental grasp he had every intention of snapping his neck. Then, however, he thought of who he was doing it for and knew that Alistair didn't like needless death.
Joren had all the abilities of a battle ready Mage, but he did prefer those of the mental or elemental variety. He spoke to the guard's mind. Told him to sleep and not wake quickly. The cell door was easily dealt with, and upon stripping the guard of his clothes, he was now wearing a linen shirt, pants, and some rough leather boots.
The Mage made his way to the first door along his path. He was happy to find it unlocked, surprising the three guards in the next room. A burst of chill brushed Joren's finger as he froze the first guard solid in his chair. The other two fell to a large arch of electricity.
The rest of the opposition he meet on the way to his goal fell quickly under the magical energies flowing from his hands. He knew that he was powerful in his own right, but he'd never felt anything like this before. It was if his need to get to Alistair was feeding his abilities. Amplifying them.
The last door that stood in front of him was locked and he blasted it open with summoned flames. When he saw the condition of Templar his heart fell to his stomach and he had to hold back the tears of rage.
Alistair was strapped to a wooden table, wearing hardly any clothes and bleeding from several places. His eyes were closed and Joren wasn't entirely he was alive.
Four men jerked toward him at his appearance. One pulled a crossbow up level to Mage and let a bolt fly. Joren was already moving, dodging the bolt and slamming its owner into a wall with a strike of lightning. One fell to winter's grasp. Joren caught the remaining two a prison of telekinetic energy. He could hear their bone crushing as he tightened his grip on them. He could hardly care that he was killing them. These were the men that had hurt Alistair. His Alistair and he felt they should pay.
Joren was by Alistair's side by the time the men's bodies hit the floor. The Templar's eye snapped open when Joren placed his hand on his shoulder and Alistair smiled.
"I was wondering when you going to show up. Try to make it a little more speedy next time." Alistair choked out. Joren couldn't help himself and chuckled a little. He knew a little about healing magic, and he summoned it then to close wounds and then rejuvenate. Alistair immediately looked better. Joren wished Wynne was there, though. She could have done much more.
"What did they do to you?" Joren did not like the mix of emotion churning through him. Rage that someone had hurt Alistair so badly. Confused about his new found feelings for Alistair. Concern that too much time had been wasted in this prison to stop the Blight. A need to make sure that Alistair was all right. The last was the one that was currently winning the internal struggle.
"Not much besides a few amateurish torture tactics. Nothing a real man like I can't solider through." Alistair sat up slowly with some help from Joren. "Are you all right? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine. Just a little worried about you. I wasn't completely sure I would find you alive." Joren admitted. "What did they want from you?"
"They were claiming we were traitors, wanted to kill Loghain, and yadda yadda yadda. They tried to take you first." Alistair's voice hardened for a moment. "They were trying to take you first. I convinced them otherwise."
"And how exactly did you do that?" Joren asked, he was finding it hard to remove the hand he had on Alistair's shoulder.
"I only had to break two noses for them to realize what was correct. That and you were much more compliant in your lazy coma thing." the Templar explained.
And that typical crooked smile on his friend's face wasn't helping things either. "Why are you smiling?"
"Well, moments ago I was fairly sure I was going to die soon, and now you're here and I'm not dead, I get to smile about."
And then Joren was smiling.
"Yeah, I guess you get to smile about that."
A/N: Please read and review.