So we've begun a weekly prompt for Alistair over on the BSN. These are my fills for the prompts.


Prompt 1: "There were times Alistair almost wished he'd never left the Chantry."


There were days when Alistair longed to be back in the Chantry.

Alistair sighed and shifted, but was careful to keep himself between the cell door and the unconscious woman curled at his side. Waking up sprawled out on the cold floor of a cell had been bad enough. It was worse seeing Lya in the same position. So he'd carried her over to the back of the cell, and placed himself in a position to try and protect her, as little good as it probably was.

Speaking of which, he hoped she would wake up soon. It was worrisome that she hadn't yet, and he hadn't been able to rouse her. He had checked her for injuries, and she was a little banged up, but nothing that seemed life-threatening. He wished Wynne were there, or even Morrigan, to check on her and make sure.

His fingers drifted down to brush the knot on Lya's skull, just above her ear. It was the reason she still slept, and he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do now was wait and pray. And hope that help came before Loghain did.

He leaned his head back against the wall, his thoughts turning inward.

A templar would never have snuck into an arl's estate to rescue a queen.

A templar would never have surrendered in order to let said queen escape.

A templar would never have ended up locked in a cell in Fort Drakon.

There was a slight movement as Lya shifted and then she groaned. He reacted instantly, rolling onto his knees to help her sit up. "Easy," he murmured, settling her against the wall. "How do you feel?"

Lya blinked at him, shaking her head slightly to clear it. She didn't answer him immediately, instead looking down, flexing and testing limbs and joints. Touching the bump on her head, she winced.

"All right," she replied. "Nothing's broken, except maybe my pride. Where are we?"

"Fort Drakon."

"Oh, yay," she said dryly. "I've always wanted to visit. Hmmm." She hummed thoughtfully, looking around. Spying the lone guard, her eyes narrowed in thought. Then her gaze landed on the rather substantial chest next to him.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"If you think it's our armor and weapons, then yes. I heard a couple guards lusting after it earlier."

She thought a moment longer, and Alistair could see a plan forming behind those clear, green eyes and he knew that whatever she came up with was almost certainly going to be wild, reckless and probably take years off his life. Like fighting a high dragon for practice.

Getting to her feet, she turned and grinned at him, excitement brightening her features. "What do you say we get out of here?"

He answered her grin in return. That expression was impossible to resist. This was going to be wild, reckless, terrifying and awesome.

And as she walked towards the bars of the cell, calling to the guard, he thought, yes, there were definitely days he wished he'd never left the Chantry.

Today? Not one of those days.