Setting: Chantry. Alistair pre-wardens.

Teenage Dream - Boyce Avenue Cover

"Let you rest your head on me, if thats what you need."

He had been sent to muck the stables as punishment. Alistair didn't mind it. At least it took him far from those preachy sisters and their armor-clad pet Templars with their scowling faces and twitchy fingers, constantly reaching for the glowing blue vials that were tucked in their leather pouches. Seeing them was like seeing his future and he hated this constant reminder of the life that had been thrust upon him by a family who could care less about him. It seemed as if no one cared about him.

"What did you do his time, Alistair?" a twinkling, little voice giggled from across the barn. He looked up with a smirk, recognizing that voice. It was Sydney, a chantry-sister in the making and his only glimpse of sunlight in the dark hole of a life.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Humor, jokes, and a charmingly defiant attitude. Thing the people here consider a sin.," he joked, shoveling the horse muck for emphasis. He was glad when she smiled and leaned against the stable wall.

"I quite like all those things about you."

Her bright smile slowly faded into a frown.

"Alistair, you..." she started but stopped mid-sentence, covering her mouth shyly. He cocked and eyebrow and stopped shoveling.

"I, what? I.., like cheese? I don't like shoveling poo?" he teased her playfully. She shook her head and tried to find the words.

"You don't belong here," she blurted out. covering her lips again wide eyed. He looked at her for a long moment, his heart hurting more than usual. He didn't understand. She was his friend. One of his only friends… maybe more than a friend in his eyes but he must has been fooling himself. Just like everyone else in his life she didn't want him. He crinkled his brows and went back to shoveling.

"I know. I don't belong anywhere." he whispered bitterly. She gasped and ran to his side placing a hand on his stilling him.

"No, no, no! Alistair, that's not what I meant! I mean you're to good to be here. Your so kind and funny and wonderful. And I can't stand the idea of you becoming some lyrium-addicted chantry-lapdog."

He had stopped shoveling but did not look up at her for fear she would see his glassy eyes. She tilted his head up to meet her gaze before continuing,

"You are special, Alistair. I know the Maker has a much bigger plan for you. I'm sure of it."

Before he knew what he was doing, he wrapped his strong arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Sydney. You don't know how much that means to me."

He pulled away a little and looked at her blushing cheeks and smiling lips.

"I… I… mean it…" she stuttered up at him blushing even deeper. He blushed in return and quickly moved his arms from around her. They were still standing so very close, and staring at each other, Alistair unconsciously wet his lips. He had never kissed a girl before but he had never wanted to as much as he did in that very moment. After swallowing back his nervousness, he leaned in slowly, giving her time to protest or stop him but to his surprise she only closed her eyes and waited for his mouth to find hers. Smiling a little, he placed a chaste kiss on her petal soft lips.

He barely had time to really enjoy it when the barn doors flew open and in walked an imposing figure. The man was dark, in every sense of the word. Dark hair, beard, and skin, cloaked in silver armor and blue cape that whipped around when breeze flew in from outside. He was terrifying and mesmerizing all at once. The Grand Cleric was behind him, nagging and preaching at him as if he were some common street urchin. The man smiled softly when he laid eyes on him.

"Alistair?" he asked, looking at him as if he already knew him, with a sort of awe and a smirk as if he was seeing someone else. Alistair raised his eyebrows and nodded. With a smile the man looked at Her Holiness and stated nonchalantly, "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription. "

Alistair had no idea what that meant but he enjoyed the look the man was shooting his arch-nemesis. He almost chuckled out loud when the old woman shrieked and stomped her foot before storming away.

The older man settled his gaze on Alistair now and reached out his hand.

"Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Alistair Theirin."