Title: The Clever Warden and Death
Rating: E for Everyone!
Characters: (implied) Alistair, various cameos
Paring: (implied) Alistair/F!Cousland, Fergus/Anora
Notes: This is for the 'Fairy Tale Challenge' to rewrite a classic fairy or folk tale in the realm of DAO. This is an old Russian tale that I fell in love with after seeing it on Jim Henson's 'Storyteller'. I've written this in the style of a verbal tale, so word choices are different than they would be for simple prose.
The Clever Warden and Death
Ages ago, longer than I can remember, there was a Grey Warden who had given many years of service to Ferelden and its people. One day, knowing that his life had fewer days ahead than behind, the Warden set out on the road to see the lands beyond the Bannorn.
He was a kind and honest soul, this Grey Warden, and as such he was more likely to give help freely than to ask for a reward. And so it was that as he traveled he spent all his coin and in the end had only three stale biscuits to count himself rich.
Now it was summer, while our friend the Warden was traveling, and the trees were filled with birds who twittered here and there. So sweetly they sang, the Warden tried to whistle back – a terrible and scratchy noise that scattered feathers as easily as if he had thrown rocks instead of tune.
Still, the Warden kept up his racket and as he turned a bend in the road, he saw a large stone sitting in the grass.
As he drew closer, the Warden jumped back in surprise. The boulder stood up and stretched arms and legs like a man!
"Er…hello?" said the Warden.
"Oh, it's another squishy thing," said the rock creature in a dry voice.
"Pardon?"
"It is made of flesh, therefore squishy. I am a golem, so I am not."
"Oh…what other squishy things have you seen?"
"Birds! Though, sadly, they stay out of my reach."
"I have a biscuit. Perhaps the birds would eat the crumbs if you held them out?"
The golem seemed to consider this and nodded.
"I believe I heard It making a dreadful noise as It approached. I have something that was left to me by my former master. I do not have the fleshy air bellows to power the device, but perhaps It can put the item to better use."
With that, the stone creature traded the Warden a shiny tin whistle for a stale biscuit. Putting his lips to the silver metal, the Warden blew and music as sweet as a maiden's first kiss floated up into the summer wind.
As he walked away, the Warden waved over his shoulder in thanks to the golem.
The stone seemed to smile happily back, and the Warden thought it was curious that he hadn't noticed the splotches of red on the creature before.
The sun rose in the sky, making the day warmer but still pleasant, as days in Ferelden go. The Warden played his whistle and walked for miles before he rounded a curve in the road and saw a half naked Dwarf sprawled in the grass.
"Ser Dwarf, were you robbed?"
"Sod it all, you could say that. Damn dog stole my pants again."
"A dog took your pants?"
"Aye, bloody nug licker."
"Would it help if you had something to lure the dog back?"
"Mmm, maybe…only thing I've got is this tankard, but the sodding thing is useless. It's enchanted to keep the drinker from getting drunk. If ya ask me, if you can't get drunk, what's the bloody point?"
"Uh, right. Well, I have a biscuit, maybe the dog would like that?"
The dwarf blinked at the Warden and smiled. "Aye, that might do it. Here, take this cursed cup and give me the biscuit."
Once the trade was finished, the dwarf ran into the brush, yelling for the dog and leaving the Warden a little embarrassed.
More miles and hours down the road, the Warden came across a blonde elf who was sitting by a stump.
"Stay a moment my friend," said the elf with a sly smile. "Surely you can spare a minute to play me a game of cards."
With that, the elf brought out a stack of shabby cards that fairly danced in his fingers. Time after time, and game after game, the elf pulled flawless tricks and perfect hands from the tattered deck.
When he was finished, the elf fanned the cards with a practiced flick of his wrist and smiled at the Warden.
"That was amazing, but I have no money to give you for such a fine show. I only have a biscuit."
"Ah, such troubled and lean lives we lead. But still – I have not eaten for more than a day, a biscuit would be a welcome meal."
The Warden's stomach gave a mighty growl in answer, for he had not eaten all day either. He reached into his pack and pulled out the last biscuit, breaking it in half to share with the starving elf. Before he handed it over, the Warden thought that it was unfair to have give the elf less than the other two he had met earlier, especially since the elf would eat the biscuit himself instead of giving it away.
The Warden handed over both halves of the biscuit with a smile, ignoring the grumble in his own belly.
"Ahh, you are a good sort of man," said the elf with a smile. "Take my cards, I think you will need them more than I. The deck is loyal, whoever owns them will never lose."
"You mean the cards are magical?"
"Yes, and for me, that takes away the challenge. With these, I cannot savor the victory of a well played bluff."
"I can imagine."
"I see that you have acquired more treasures in your travels than you have hands. Here, take this sack, I think you will find it very useful. Whatever you tell to get into it, will."
"Thank you," the Warden smiled and settled his cards, mug and whistle into the sack as he walked away.
---ooo---
The day grew old, and the Warden was very weary when he saw a village settled at the foot of a great mountain. Near the town was a lake with wild geese swimming in lazy circles. By now the Warden was well and truly starving by this time and decided to give the sack the elf had given him a try.
Tucking the cards, mug and whistle into his shirt, the Warden held open the sack and yelled: "Geese! Do you see this sack? GET IN IT!"
With a flurry of feathers and angry honks, three geese rushed into the sack like magic.
The Warden laughed merrily and tied the bag closed before heading toward the village with a hop in his step.
A great smile on his handsome face, the Warden walked into the tavern and called to the barkeeper. "Ser! I will give you two of these geese in payment for a room and a meal if you will cook the third one for me."
Fresh food was still scarce from the Blight, so the barkeeper accepted the deal and began plucking feathers straight away.
The Warden ate his fill on glazed goose and drank golden ale from his tankard until he could barely stay awake. In his room he fell asleep, thinking all was right with the world and feeling very lucky indeed.
In the morning, he looked out his window and saw a lonely keep on the mountain above the village.
"My friend," the Warden called to the barkeeper. "Who lives in the castle? It is quite impressive!"
"Ah, that's Soldier's Peak, a frightful place. Years ago it was a Grey Warden stronghold, but now it's home to demons, darkspawn and undead. You can hear them carousing and playing cards from dusk to dawn, making a dreadful racket. The King and Queen have promised to grant the castle to whoever can clear it in a single night, but no one has come back who has tried."
The Warden stroked his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "I'm no stranger to such creatures, perhaps I shall have a go up there."
The barkeeper shook his head sadly and wished the Warden luck, thinking that he would never see him again.
Taking his sack with his cards, tankard and tin whistle, the Warden made his way up to the gates of the castle and saw that the years had not been kind. The halls were drafty and full of broken or scattered furniture. Snow collected in the windows, and it looked like fire hadn't warmed the hearths in ages.
The Warden settled at a large table, pulled out his tin whistle and played while he waited for the sun to set.
No sooner had the last slip of light fallen below the horizon and a great rustle and shuffle surrounded the Warden in the dark.
Striking a candle lit, the Warden saw all manner of evil things: demons, shrieks, genlocks, hurlocks, ghouls, skeletons and even an ogre who towered above them all.
The Warden heard the creatures hissing and chittering to each other, angry and curious at the same time, no doubt trying to decide what to do with him.
An emissary growled: "A pretty whistle, I want it!"
"Oh? You'll have to play me for it then. I hear that you all like a strong drink and a good game of cards."
An Ash wraith chuckled like a volcano with a belly ache: "That is so, little mortal. You care to wager for a bit more than just a silly whistle?"
The Warden looked around him. "What are you bringing to the table then?
The ogre left and returned dragging several huge chests of treasure.
"Your life and soul—"
"And whistle!" chipped in the emissary.
"Against our gold and silver," finished a Desire demon with a wicked grin.
The Warden tapped his chin, thinking. Then he pulled out his tattered deck of cards and said: "Deal."
