Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.

Premise: Different Origin Wardens meet up. Or different Wardens just meet up. And stuff happens, the Maker was probably drunk at the time. Reply to my challenge over at Cheeky Monkeys. Identification of the Wardens in the end.

Author's note: I don't make excuses for this anymore. Consider the huge amount of updates something to keep people busy while I'm not around in August. Shakespira, Roxfox, I'll be borrowing, please to forgive :| Virtues based on the roman virtues.

Word count: 1630.

The Fade felt different, was different considering the state of the soul upon arrival. Before dying, brought by either chance or bad luck, it seemed frightening, like an invaded castle or an intruded household. Once one died, it became home and many of its veils were lifted. Time didn't matter. Space didn't either. Parallel lines became intersections.

"Bhelen. Why him? He was a Kinslayer. It made me want to throw up just to hear him speak."

The two spirits were close to each other; one on a tree branch, the other by the tree's roots, one elven, the other human. Armored as they had always been in life, light and heavy armor, both brunettes, both carrying swords of starlight and memories of a burden life had kept. It explained the way they spoke, lightly, as if mentioning something someone else had done. Curiosity instead of demanding questions.

"Still," the taller woman replied from the floor. "Betrayer as he was, he wanted the Dwarven civilization to go somewhere else. Harrowmont thought everything would be all right if he buried his head inside a cave and yelled loudly. Things got better once he died. No Chantry in Orzammar though?"

A shrug from the elf. "The Maker listens just as well from any corner of a house. I'm here, aren't I? If he really cared about me listening to the Chant, I'd be a Darkspawn right about now. Not this. Caridin?"

"Maker above, yes. Branka was insane. Did you see how she left everyone behind? Oghren was better off without her around. Allowed him to try for something else."

"Like Felsi," Duty snickered somewhere above, obviously remembering events shared in both universes. Strange. The Wardens were always different and shaped the ones they met, never the other way around. The Maker worked in confusing ways. "Those two were ridiculously weird with each other, weren't they?"

A scoff in disbelief was her reply. "You can't talk, Tasha. I mean, Teagan? And all the foreplay before you actually got down and did something. It was ludicrous."

"Our marriage wasn't dysfunctional. And I didn't try to hit him with pans every time he drank too much. Felsi got him injured more than any darkspawn we dealt with." A swift movement and Duty was leaning perilously on the branch, enough to watch a little of the olive skin on the other's face, a trace of her dark eyes. The smile on her lips, that one was almost amused. "Besides, you can't either. You only noticed Alistair with Wynne's help? Really?"

Dignity looked up and her expression had nothing even close to delight. A handful of earth followed very quickly, aimed randomly to the other's vicinity. "Can you even call that help? She just starts going on and on and about love versus duty. How I shouldn't allow them to mix. And I'm standing there, wondering what in Andraste's name's going on, what made her wonder if I'm after him like I haven't seen a man before. I just accepted a flower, not a marriage proposition." If she was a cat, all of her would have been claws and teeth out. "Sorry, Wynne had some loose screws."

"Oh, got that one too." Seemed like every Warden had. "She thought I was after Zevran. Maker knows why."

"Because you didn't mind his advances."

"I didn't pay attention to them, Cousland. And because we had similar ears and Wynne didn't stalk me in Redcliffe." By Duty's attitude, it had probably been a very good thing. "Change of subject?"

"Maker, yes." But Dignity kept silent and, from what little the elf could see, she knew what she wanted to say. Just didn't feel like speaking. Fade healed all wounds though and time had no meaning. Duty reclined even more and both waited. "I still think you should have killed him."

"Who? Loghain or Jowan?"

Useless question. They had both saved the latter. "First."

Another shrug. "I made him suffer enough during close to thirty years. He paid his debt. Besides, you allowed the Architect to go." Fade healed all wounds, they were free to disagree.

"Yes and you almost let Zathrien get away with his idiocy. We all took odd options here and there. Though."

"Though." Duty pressed her lips in that almost smile of hers while Dignity crossed her arms, freely happy as she looked down the hill, down where the dead gathered, souls and everyone she loved. "You don't regret much of it."

"Not now, no."

Wardens, the both of them. Different Wardens that, had they lived together in the same time and place, would have disagreed in so many things. Ultimately, they had the right thing though. Finished with what threatened to destroy their home. That had been a good thing, their contribution to a future world. The rest was just memories, good and bad, preconceptions and prejudices that didn't matter anymore. It was peace.

More or less.

Dignity leaned a little forward, her eyes narrowing as one of the souls below started its ascending route towards the place where the two Wardens rested. Before opening them wide and allowing curses to slip by unannounced. Maker, not this again.

"What's wrong with you?" Duty pulled herself upwards on the branch, feet moving to keep her balance, a hand covering her eyes to protect them from the light. Basic reflexes death hadn't destroyed. Why was her colleague so bothered anyway? It wasn't like they were in any dang— "Maker above," whispered her own voice. "Not this again."

There was no pity from the human. Exasperation, maybe, a feeling far more natural from Wynne than from the youngest Cousland. Underneath it all, enough amusement to keep her going for a couple more centuries.

"Stop smirking, you blasted human, Maker help me, is this my punishment? Different universes, how hard it is to…"

Dignity didn't stop. In fact, her smile only widened as a familiar looking mage spirit appeared nearby, staff ready for something that clearly wouldn't be healthy had they been alive. And Duty was already jumping down from her tree, a sword in her hands and meeting the other woman halfway.

Fireball for opening. Tenacity didn't seem in a good mood that day – night? It didn't matter, Dignity decided. What did was that whenever these two met up, whether by chance or because one was simply annoyed, there would always be enough entertainment to be seen. Her thoughts were proved correct in little time as the opening gave origin to an all-out battle right in front of her.

"Thought you had fled, elf," Tenacity yelled – or was that laughed – over the explosion she was just causing. "You know, to be incarnated, prey on my man again. Whatever you do when you're not killing off darkspawn."

And Duty's resigned voice. "Maker above, who pissed you off this time, mage?" No answer except for a large lightning bolt. "And he's not your man, I've told you about a million times."

"Yes, yes. Less talking, more fighting."

Off in their little world yet again, Dignity concluded.

"Ahem." Humor appeared out of virtually nowhere, throwing herself by her side. "Brought you this." A large basket of cookies she had obviously deviated from someone less agile. Her Sten, more likely. He was the least careless of them all, probably due to having dealt with this particular mage for a whole Blight. Good thing she had died with the Archdemon. Elisa didn't doubt the Qunari would have committed suicide if she hadn't.

Still, not a bad company. As long as the Cousland made sure to forget most of the words that escaped her lips.

"Where are their Teagans?" She asked absently, experienced eyes following the others' movements. That had been a good comeback. Double-handed swipe did allow a brief respite against the mage's offensive style. Enough to allow counter.

"Knowing them?" Cookies disappeared as fast as the two women attempting to destroy each other's immortal forms. Briefly, Dignity wondered if it would end in a cat-fight again. When magic didn't do the trick and a blade didn't cause wounds, apparently, it became completely obvious the next weapon was nails. "Ignoring it. They aren't sure if this is about them anymore or just stress relief. Besides, both end up on the couch whenever they interfere."

This, dear mage and elf, was why Dignity remained apart from men. Even after the Blight, even with her Alistair still giving her those glances which belonged more to a pup than a man. It was so much better to watch everyone else making fools out of themselves.

"Where's yours?"

"Listening as to why he's a bad, horrible Templar again. Surana's Gregoir caught him."

So much better.

"Least I didn't jump him the first chance I got, Joss." Oh, Duty was finally annoyed. Had taken her longer this time.

"That's it. You're spending eternity as a frog, you damned elf. Why the Maker kept you, I'll never understand."

So. Much. Better.

Dignity, former Elisa Cousland, former Warden-Commander of the Grey of Ferelden and never a queen, never anything more than a warrior and now spirit, allowed her virtue to dissipate for a moment and laughed out loud, watching as the battleground expanded and began to attract more audience.

Again.

The basket was stuck in front of her, Humor – Diana – relaxing against the rogue's left side, arms crossed over her filled stomach. "More cookies?"

"Don't mind if I do."

Being dead was definitely not that bad. Same with being a spectator.

Dignity: Elisa Cousland, Observations, Roxfox1962

Duty: Tasha Tabris, Denerim and Rainesfere

Tenacity: Josslyn Amell, With Noble Intent, Shakespira

Humor: Diana Amell, The Laughing Wall