Just a Little Rose – Part 1

Dragon Age: Origins

Pairing: Alistair/Jowan

A little story about what happened between Alistair and Jowan after the blight.

When the templar wishes to check on the man who tried to kill his foster father, and yet regrets it so much, something else sparks between them.

xoxoxo

If there was one thing Alistair had learned while in the Chantry was that blood magic was bad. It was the worst action a mage could ever do, the worse step they could take and it would lead to nothing good.

Ever.

So when Theron insisted that they would let the blood mage live AND allow him to help them, Alistair was sure that the world had gone out of alignment.

This man was a killer, or a would-be-killer, a corrupter of young children and he had attempted to hurt the Arl of Redcliffe.

Sure, the man pleaded for forgiveness and innocence, told of trickery and threats, but Alistair would not hear of it.

The man was a blood mage. A maleficar.

Plain and simple.

His view on things were not heard though as Theron offered to escort the blood mage back to the Circle of Magi since Irving and the two other mage's he had brought wished to remain with Arl Eamon to monitor his condition.

'It was on the way anyway,' Theron had said at the time and despite the loud protest from the templar, the maleficar had joined them. Unshackled. Just the thought of a blood mage on the loose made the hair on Alistair's neck stand up. The fact that the man had tried to harm his uncle just made it worse and made his mood drop even more, something that did not get past the young Dalish.

"Listen, Alistair," Theron murmured after just about tugging the templar away from the rest of the group. They had just made camp for the night and dinner was being prepared. The last straw for the Dalish had been Alistair just about breathing down Jowan's neck as he attempted to help with their dinner, watching his every move for something… Suspicious.

"The way you are acting… It's getting on everyone's nerves. And I mean everyone, mine included. Can't you give the poor man a chance? He is trying to make up for what he did, you know."

"A chance?" Alistair growled and crossed his arms over his chest, the usually warm and kind eyes now hard and cold. "Theron, the man is a maleficar and he tried to kill my uncle! Hell, we still don't know if Eamon will be okay, we still have to find that urn! Which is a legend mind you, so we are basically grasping at straws. We should hand him over to the closest templar and-"

"And then what, Alistair? Let him be kicked about all the way back to the Circle where he will await his punishment?" Theron frowned and placed his hands on his hips, trying to make himself look bigger and more threatening. It didn't really work as planned as he barely reached the templar to his chin and that was only counting the way his hair stood up at the back. "The man was tricked by Loghain. You know the big baddie we are chasing? Based on what he's told us, anyone would have done as he told and he was supposed to be a hero for you shems, wasn't he? People looked up to him. It's easy for us to judge because we know the truth, but he didn't!"

"That doesn't matter! He tried to kill a good man and he's using blood magic!" Alistair retorted, making Theron groan softly.

"By the dread wolf, were you even listening to him? He didn't use blood magic on the Arl or on Connor! He poisoned him, which means that he can still be saved, now that the demon is out of the way! We just need to hurry up some!"

"Theron! Blood magic! Malifecarum! Bad news, Theron, bad news!"

"Now you are just repeating yourself, Alistair. I heard you the first time, the second and the hundred times after that and guess what. I don't care, Alistair. I don't care. I want to help him, I believe in his innocence! By the dread wolf, you didn't complain this much when Zevran joined us. Heck, you were quieter when Morrigan came along!"

Alistair opened his mouth to speak, but in the end backed down. Seeing Theron, the usually quiet and mild Dalish elf getting this agitated… Well, Alistair wasn't about to ruin their friendship over a quarrel. Even if the Dalish was wrong.

"Never mind then," he finally said, lifting his hands in a silent defeat. "We'll do it your way then. But if I wake up dead, I am blaming you."

"If you wake up dead, blame me all you want. All I am saying is to give Jowan a chance. You haven't even talked to him, haven't once attempted to find out who he is. And trust me, you may be surprised."

"Surprised, eh?" The templar looked sceptical. "You sound like you've already had a few words with him."

"Quite a few in fact," Theron replied, turning away from his friend to walk back to their camp. "And so far, I like who I've been talking to. Far more than I enjoyed this discussion." He stopped up and looked over his shoulder at Alistair. "Just give him a chance," he repeated. "That is all I ask."

Those words would haunt Alistair, even as the blight ended.

He had not been able to talk to Jowan or give him much of a chance as they guided him back to the Mages Tower, nor did he give him much thought as they moved on, always pushing in order to resolve the blight before it would wipe Ferelden off the map.

And then the blight ended.

They had done what pretty much everybody had thought could not be done. They had united the different regions, races and believes of the land; mages, Dalish, humans and dwarfs. All fighting together to end the Blight.

Lives had been lost and Alistair knew that he would always have a special spot for them all in his heart. Sacrifices had been made, sacrifices that he thought maybe hadn't been completely necessary, but they had been done because the people had believed in what had been done.

He had grown with each experiences, having grown wiser, able to see further than he had before. He had seen, he had learned and he had become able to see further than the tip of his own nose when it came to people and their choices.

He had learned about Loghain and his reasons for doing what he did. While he did not agree with his decisions and what it ultimately had leaded to, he understood.

He had gotten to know so many people, different and yet so alike when it came to their goals. Some wanted to protect their people. Some wanted revenge. Some simply wanted to help.

Some were just desperate.

Which was why seeing Jowan again on the battlefield was such a huge surprise.

The mage hadn't just been in Denerim, fighting the darkspawn, he had been up in the tower, facing the Arch Demon along with the other mages and while Alistair could see the fear on his face, he still held his ground. He still fought as fiercely as the rest and even as much as Alistair stared, he did not see any attempt at blood magic. He saw fire, he saw the warm, familiar glow from healing spells, but even as the ground beneath their feet got covered in blood, not a drop of it was used by the Malifecarum.

The man was good; Alistair had to give him that. Even if Jowan had claimed not to be a fighter while in the dungeon in Denerim, he still did his part, despite his own fear.

Alistair could relate. Nobody could be so near the Arch Demon and not feel afraid. He was surprised that his own armour was relatively dry once the battle was over, especially when Theron leaped to give the old God the final blow.

So when the worse of the attention had died down, Alistair had made up his mind.

When he told Theron that he wished to go to the Tower to talk to Jowan, Theron had only smiled and offered him company, which had been declined. It was time to actually get some answers on his own.

"Will you be gone for long, Alistair?"

The templar had told him that he didn't know. The ride from Amaranthine, the new home for the Grey Wardens, to Lake Calenhad would take at least a couple off days by horse, and only if he pressed both himself and the animal a bit hard. And since the trip would take so long, he also planned on remaining there for a little while.

Theron suggested that he could make the trip officially as well as privately and use the opportunity to ask Irving if a few of the mages could be considered for the Grey Wardens. Their aid would be of grave importance for the broken Order, especially since their ranks currently consisted of himself, Alistair, Oghren, a run-away mage from the circle by the name of Anders and a pissed-off Nathaniel Howe who'd sworn revenge for his father.

The rest of their merry little band of misfits had all gone their separate ways, some promising to return and others moving to find their own path in life.

Alistair was only glad to have that excuse, feeling that his own was so insignificant that it was embarrassing, even if it was important to him.

So the templar set off towards the Circle of Magi, a small bag with a list of people that was of interest for the Wardens and his mind swirling with questions. By the time he reached the lake, he had an entire list of his own with them.

The trip had thankfully been uneventful, taking two days as expected thanks to good weather. He had been lucky enough to make it to the inns during his journey so he had a good meal and a warm bed to strengthen both his resolve and body for the upcoming events.

The second he took a step into the boat though, Alistair felt his resolve crumble and the closer he got to the tower, the more and more it smouldered up until he could barely remember why he was there.

In all honesty, he was a little afraid. Not of the mage, but of himself and what he would do upon seeing the man again. Would he yell at him? Call him names and refuse to listen? The templar liked to think that he had grown a bit since the blight, but the wounds were still fresh. The incident had just about been the salt that had been rubbed into the fresh wounds created from the loss of Duncan and the betrayal of Loghain.

Maybe they had gotten enough time to heal now. It had been over a year after all.

Not surprisingly, Greagoir was the one to greet Alistair as he reached the docks on the Island, giving him a sharp nod. "Warden."

"You can call me Alistair, you know," Alistair replied, giving Greagoir a somewhat sheepish smile as he stepped out of the boat. Greagoir on the other hand just grunted before turning to guide him towards the tower.

"The First Enchanter is awaiting you."

Ah, so Theron's letter had reached the tower before him. That would make everything so much easier.

"I take it that he's either going to strike me down or he's rallied up the requested mages then?"

Greagoir gave another firm nod as he led Alistair up towards the gates to the tower. "The latter, even if I was tempted to ask him to strike you down. Requesting mages so soon after the blight and our own disaster, its madness."

"Well, we're not going to take them all, just one or two. If you want, I can take those that really annoying."

"Rumour has it that you have already caught and conscripted Anders so that is one annoyance out of the way. Him you can keep with my blessing." Greagoir let out a grunt. "Maybe now we can actually keep windows open again without anyone jumping out of them, no matter how far up it is."

"Anders did that?"

"Many times. Usually ended up with a broken leg or two. It is a miracle from the Maker Himself that he never broke his spine." The templar opened the door and gave a sharp nod for Alistair to go inside.

"Irving is up by his office. Ask a templar or a mage to show you the way if you don't remember where it is. I have other things to do than play chaperone for you."

Alistair nodded and, for good measures, gave Greagoir a quick salute before hurrying inside.

The tower was pretty much exactly as he remembered it. Templars walking about, giving the mages strict looks. The mages themselves hurrying back and forward, busy with different tasks. There was a tension in the tower still, like everybody still expected for another blood mage to pop out from somewhere or for a demon to tear through the veil.

Alistair couldn't really blame them. He still woke up sometimes, expecting to find a darkspawn staring down at him with a wide grin, ready to stab with him its rusty sword.

"Can I help-? … Oh… Hello, ser Alistair."

Alistair blinked and turned around, feeling his throat go dry as he stared into a pair of familiar grey eyes.

Jowan.

Well, damn.

"Ah, eh… Hello… Jowan was it," Alistair said, trying to smile. "I didn't expect to see you… Well…"

Jowan gave Alistair a small smile of his own. "In my own mind..? Ser Theron pleaded for my cause and after Anders learned of my situation, he added his own two coppers in my defence. The Arl of Redcliffe, Maker bless him, has also been gracious enough not to demand my head on a silver plate just yet." He gestured towards the door leading further into the tower. "None the less, the First Enchanter asked to get you and bring you to his office. If you may please follow me…"

"Ah, yes, of course." Alistair nodded and started walking towards the door, Jowan speeding up ahead of him so he could open it.

The walk up was quiet, the tension between them thick enough to be cut with a knife. Alistair worried at his bottom lip, staring at the back of Jowan's head as he tried to find something to say. What could he say to the man that had attempted to kill his uncle?

"We are here."

Almost walking into the blood mage, Alistair woke up from his little chain of thought, staring up at the door belonging to the First Enchanters office. "Ah. I… Thank you, Jowan."

Jowan bowed his head a little and offered Alistair a small smile. "It was… The least I could do for you, ser Alistair."

Alistair hesitated for a moment, but as Jowan turned to leave he quickly grabbed his arm, preventing the mage from moving further away. "Wait."

Jowan gave him a slightly scared look, flitching a little as the large templar grabbed his arm. Alistair let go immediately, his cheeks flaring up. "Sorry, I…" He looked down for a moment before finding the courage to speak up.

"I, um… I was just…" He let out a small growl before shaking his head firmly and looked up at the man. "We have to talk. Can I see you later tonight?"

The mage looked at Alistair for a moment, uncertainty clear in his eyes. Alistair guessed that Jowan already knew what Alistair wanted to talk about.

"I promise I won't smite you down or anything," Alistair added, giving Jowan a small, reassuring smile. It was surprisingly easy to do it.

That made Jowan smile a little as well before nodding. "I… Alright… I am usually at the first floor in the evenings. In the library. Just… Look for a large cluster of templars; I should be in the middle of the group."

Alistair nodded. "Alright. I will see you then."

"I will see you then," Jowan echoed before vanishing down the hall.

Alistair watched Jowan's back until it vanished around a corner before taking a deep breath, knocking on Irving's door. Time to get some work done.