Upon reaching Ostagar the next morning, Kitra and Duncan were greeted by a man in polished golden armor who was followed by a small personal guard. He directed most of his conversation toward Duncan, for which Kitra was grateful.
She didn't bother to listen closely to their conversation, instead occupying herself with looking at the weathered architecture of the old fortress. Living in the Wilds, she'd seen Ostagar from a distance before, but never this close or from such an angle. She felt dwarfed by the massive columns and tall arches.
Kitra returned her attention to the conversation when it seemed to be nearing its end, with the man in golden armor wishing for a war "like in the tales". He either did not hear or ignored her muttered comment about those tales going far more badly in written history than in the stories woven by minstrels.
"That man is your king?" Kitra inquired as soon as the man and his guard were gone.
"He is also yours," said Duncan, "but yes."
Kitra furrowed her brows at the notion that the man in gold was her king. She owed her allegiance to no one and rather liked it that way.
Duncan gestured for them to walk, and so she walked with him across the bridge to the camp that lay within the main body of the ruins. As they walked, he briefed her on the situation. When they neared the camp, he bought up the subject of the Joining.
"So there's more to this than just picking me out, slapping some griffon-emblazoned armor on me, and sending me off into battle?" she asked dryly.
"Yes, and we shall start immediately. There is another Grey Warden in the camp, a young man named Alistair. Find him and bring him to the bonfire at the camp's center."
With that, they parted ways, with Duncan heading to the camp's center to speak with a gathered group of soldiers and Kitra wandering off into the camp in search of a young man with a griffon somewhere on his armor who answered to the name Alistair.