The burning ruins of the castle slowly faded into the distance as they made their way through the dense forest that skirted the main road. The wind whipped at them angrily, bringing with it the acrid smell of smoke. Flynn's grief consumed her. It clawed at her like the briars tearing into her bare skin as they pushed their way through the tangled heart of the woods. They traveled for several miles until Duncan stopped and looked up at the sky where the last remnants of daylight began to slip beneath the horizon. He stretched and set his pack on a rock outcrop in the middle of the soggy clearing where they stood.
"We should be far enough away to avoid detection," he said quietly. "We'll make camp here and continue in the morning."
Flynn sat down on a rotten log while Duncan started a small fire. She pulled her knees to her chin and stared into the crackling flames that licked the sky. Flames like those that were now surely devouring everything and everyone she loved.
"Flynn, would you like something to eat?" Duncan tossed her half a loaf of bread. She looked at it despondently and continued to stare mutely into the fire. They sat in silence until she finally excused herself and crawled into the tent he had erected for her. She curled up on top of her bedroll and cried herself to sleep.
The days passed in a bleak blur as they made their way to join up with the rest of the grey warden forces. They managed to avoid the patrols Arl Howe deployed in search of survivors of the massacre by trekking through the woods and avoiding the main roads. Her grief began to fade slowly to a dull ache as they put miles between themselves and Flynn's home. After several days of grueling travel, they finally approached the gates to the massive fortress of Ostagar. Flynn stood gaping up in wide-eyed wonder at the stronghold. The fortress sat on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by insurmountably high walls. A tower stood at the foot of the bridge that spanned the deep chasm to the main keep. Flynn looked over the edge as they crossed. Her head reeled dizzily as she stared down into the seemingly endless abyss.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Duncan asked and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"I've never seen anything its equal. It's more than I could imagine from the descriptions in my books," she said breathlessly.
"I may not agree with all of the king's tactics, but choosing to refortify Ostagar to make our stand against the blight was a wise decision."
"King Cailan is here?"
"Against my protests, yes. Despite his lack of formal training against the Darkspawn, he seems determined about riding into battle with the Wardens," Duncan sighed.
"Ugh, somehow I'm not surprised," Flynn scoffed.
"You are familiar with the King?"
"Unfortunately. We are only a few years apart in age. Before he married Anora, my mother even petitioned King Maric to bring him to our castle in an attempt to, 'join our families', as she put it."
"I take it things did not go as your mother planned?" Duncan asked with a wry smile.
"Oh..not at all..." Flynn laughed. "My mother finally managed to orchestrate a visit when we were still children. The prince was so pompous that Roderick and I locked him in our spider-infested dungeon until he cried and wet his pants. Needless to say, all talks of marriage were quickly abandoned."
Duncan cracked a rare smile and she followed him across the bridge to the main hub of the camp. There they found King Cailan and his advisors pouring over a map. The king spotted Duncan, and sloshed down his mug of ale onto the table. "Duncan! I thought for sure you'd been dragged off by the blight! Good to see you!" The king clapped him on the back. Flynn could tell by the smell of him that it was likely not his first drink of the morning.
"Flynn? Flynn Cousland?" His face broke into an enormous grin, "Maker girl, you've certainly filled out nicely. What brings you here?"
"I see you haven't lost any of your charm Cailan." She couldn't help but return his grin and took his extended hand amiably.
"Where is that blighter Ser Gilmore? Still following you around like a lovesick puppy, I'm sure."
Her momentary happiness shattered.
"Your brother Fergus is off scouting in the woods. I'm sure he'll be back soon enough though," the king continued obliviously.
Fergus. She had completely forgotten that Fergus had been sent ahead with her father's main forces to join up with Cailan. He still did not know about their family. Maker, how was she going to tell him about Oriana and Oren?
"My family and Ser Gilmore were killed by Arl Howe in a bid for power," she said quietly.
The king's grin faded.
"Flynn, I am so sorry. As soon as we defeat this blight I will personally lead my men to bring Arl Howe to justice."
"Thank you Cailan." She willed herself not to start crying in front of the king. She doubted he would ever let her live it down.
"I'm sure we'll have defeated the darkspawn and be on our way in less than a fortnight. I'm not sure this is even a real blight," he sighed disappointedly. "There's been no sign of an arch demon, and we've already defeated the bloody bastards in three battles. I don't understand why Logain keeps droning on about how we need to postpone the offense until we can gather more soldiers. Strike while the iron is hot I say!"
"Wait, Teryn Logain is here?" Flynn gasped.
Teryn Logain was Fereldan's greatest hero in the war with the Orlesians. She held him in the same high regard as the grey wardens. When she was a girl, she had even gone so far as to rip a portrait of him from one of her father's books. She kept it in her bedside drawer and took it out from time to time to fawn over. That was until Roderick found it. He still teased her mercilessly about the little hearts she had drawn around the Teryn's face... Well, had teased her... Tears began to well up in her eyes and she wiped them away angrily.
"Well Flynn, it was a pleasure to see you again, but I must be off. Can't keep the darkspawn waiting forever you know?" Cailan waved cheerfully as he was lead away by his gaggle of advisors.
"He certainly seems... confidant," Flynn muttered skeptically.
Duncan sighed, "I'm not sure his majesty understands the severity of the situation before us."
"I'm sure what you really mean is that he's acting like a dim-witted twit. Cailan has never been the sharpest sword in the forge."
"In so many words I suppose," Duncan laughed. "There are arrangements I need to make before your joining. I need you to find the other recruits and the junior Grey Warden, Alistair. They should be somewhere in the camp." He gave Flynn a warm smile and set off back down the bridge.
Flynn drew up her hood and watched until he disappeared into the dense forest. She grabbed an apple from a passing food cart as she wandered in the general direction Duncan had indicated. The camp was overflowing with soldiers wearing countless sigils from every corner of Fereldan. The chaos of the camp was a welcome reprieve from the quiet of the forest. The silence had given her too much time to reflect on her grief. It felt good to be surrounded by people and distraction again. She shoved her way through the mob until she reached a clearing near the steps to the chantry. She pulled herself up onto a low hanging branch of a stunted oak tree and took a bite of her apple.
She looked out into the throng for someone in Grey Warden armor and sighed exasperatedly. Duncan could have at least given her a description of this Alistair character before he set her loose to wander the camp by herself. There were hundreds of soldiers milling about in the courtyard.
After a few minutes, she noticed a young man in templar armor politely pushing his way through the multitude. He looked to be around her age, perhaps a year or two older. The knight shielded his eyes as he surveyed the crowd for someone. He apparently spotted his target at the top of the stairs and began jogging towards the chantry. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and pushed his blonde hair back with a sigh of grim resignation. Flynn could hear him softly humming a funeral dirge.
She leaned forward to get a closer look at the knight and the branch she was seated on suddenly began to sway precariously. She heard the dry wood crack and squawked a cry of terror as she began to tumble forward towards the ground, bracing herself for an impact that never came. The knight heard the panicked cry and rushed over to find her dangling off the jagged end of the limb by the seat of her pants. As if her situation were not embarrassing enough, she was mortified to see that the stranger was extraordinarily handsome.
"Well...this...is awkward," she laughed.
"Aren't you a strange looking bird," he grinned.
"I don't suppose..." she gestured sheepishly to her snagged backside.
"Oh! Of course," he laughed and easily lifted her from her perch. Flynn could feel her cheeks flushing as he carefully set her down.
"I don't believe I've seen you about camp before," he said as he helped gather the contents of her upended pack.
"I just arrived this morning."
"Dare I ask why you were dangling from that tree?"
"Well, prior to dangling, I was searching for someone."
"Anyone in particular?" he asked helpfully. "Wait, hold that thought. I had better deliver this message and perhaps I can assist you in finding them. I will only be a moment.
"That sounds wonderful, thank you."
He gave her a jovial smile and jogged up the stairs two at a time. He stole a final glance over his shoulder when he reached the landing, nearly tripping into an ornate fountain in the process. He recovered gracefully and threw her another good-humored grin. She watched as he approached a surly looking mage and handed him a thick envelope from his pack. The mage tore open the envelope impatiently. His face twisted into a furious snarl as he read the message. He jabbed a finger into the knight's chest and began to shout at him furiously. Flynn couldn't quite make out what he was saying over the clamor of the camp. Her curiosity finally got the best of her and she snuck up the stairs to a closer position behind a low wall to investigate.
"What her reverence desires is of no concern to me, templar! I am busy helping the resistance, by the king's orders I might add!" the mage roared.
The knight caught her peeking at him from behind the wall and winked at her roguishly. "Oh great and powerful mage, I beg of you, please don't zap the messenger..."
Flynn clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. The knight's grin widened at the response from his audience.
"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"
"Oh, yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message," he goaded.
"You are beginning to try my patience, Templar." He spat the last word like a curse. Lightning began to crackle between from the mage's fingertips as his fury grew.
"Oh and here I thought we were getting along so well. Ah, what a pity. Well it has certainly been a pleasure, but I must be going. Other messages to deliver and mages to harass."
He gave the mage a sarcastic bow and turned to walk away. The infuriated mage's lip curled into a nasty sneer as he raised his staff to cast a spell at the knight's unsuspecting back. Flynn flew from her hiding spot and fired an arrow into the glass orb atop his staff. The staggered mage toppled backwards in surprise and landed with an unceremonious splash in the ornate fountain.
"Now now ser mage, it's hardly fair to attack someone while their back is turned." She chided, as she stepped forward to offer a hand to help him out, but the mage smacked it away furiously. He staggered out of the water and shot them a final icy glare as he limped away to nurse his wounded pride.
"Well, it's not every day I am attacked by a mage and then saved by a beautiful maiden." The knight grinned brightly.
"You obviously haven't been associating with the right maidens then," she laughed and extended her hand, "I never properly introduced myself, I'm Flynn."
"The new recruit? I should have known! Duncan wrote ahead to say you would be coming. I'm Alistair."
"Alistair, the junior Grey Warden? I've been searching for you all morning!"
"Well, I suppose it really is my lucky day then." He took her hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Wait, you don't happen to be a mage do you?"
She wiggled her fingers mysteriously and pulled a silver piece from behind his ear. "I'm also a wiz at card tricks."
"Sorceress!" he cried and they both dissolved into fresh peals of laughter. Flynn realized that it was the first time she had been truly happy since leaving her home.
"Come on, let's go find your fellow recruits Ser Jory and Daveth and get started on preparing for your joining. Once it's over we can grab a pint and you can show me a few more of your amazing tricks." His eyes widened once he realized how inappropriate his statement sounded. He blushed and began to stammer an apology. Even his embarrassment was charming.
"I'm afraid it will take more than a few pints for me to reveal all of my amazing tricks." She grinned at him mischievously, "A wine barrel with a funnel might do the trick though."
"Perhaps we can pilfer one back at the mess hall," he laughed. "Daveth and Jory should be somewhere around there anyway."
She followed as he led her down the stairs and through a seemingly endless sea of tents. Once they pushed through the bustle, he fell in beside her and they walked together along the heavily wooded outskirts of the camp.
"I really would like to thank you properly for saving my hide back there. I'm not sure what that mage had planned, but I can't imagine it was going to be pleasant," he said seriously. "I sometimes allow my mouth to run away from me."
"No worries. I have the same tendency myself," she laughed, "Besides, that mage seemed like a right prat. Why was he so upset with you?"
"I suppose he didn't take too kindly to a former Templar bringing him orders from the Grand Cleric. That or perhaps he just didn't like the look of my face."
"Oh come now, your face isn't that bad..."
"Ha ha...veeerry funny," He shoved her playfully, "I did not realize that Duncan was recruiting jesters now."
"I was a special exception. He was particularly impressed with my juggling."
"Oh, that will be a fantastic darkspawn distraction, I'm sure," he chuckled.
Flynn grinned up at him, admiring the way his light amber eyes lit up when he laughed. It felt as if she were having a conversation with an old friend rather than someone that she had met only moments before. "Forgive me for saying, but you do not seem to be the Templar type. Most of the Templars I know are very stoic, pious men...You seem far too pleasant to have been a mage hunter," she mused.
"Mage hunter? Me? Ha! I never took the rights to become a full Templar. Honestly, as an initiate I just stood about in fancy armor making sure that the Circle mages retained control of their powers. But maybe you have a point...Mage hunter sounds much more mysterious and alluring than mage babysitter," he chuckled.
They stopped for a moment underneath a towering oak tree. Flynn offered Alistair her water-skin and he accepted it gratefully.
"So how did you go from Templar Initiate to Warden?" she asked as he took a long draw from the canteen.
"I owe Duncan everything. I was sent to the chantry to train with the Templar Order when I was very young. Duncan recruited me right before I was to take my vows."
"Do you enjoy being a Warden?"
"I love it," he said sincerely. "I never really felt like I belonged in the chantry. I was constantly in trouble for goofing off and pulling pranks on the senior Templars."
"Goofing off and pranks, you say?" Flynn grinned at him mischievously. "I think you and I are going to get along famously..."
He offered her his hand to step over a small creek. She took it with a smile and leapt across agilely. Once she found her footing, he released her hand and they stepped away from one another sheepishly. He cleared his throat and nervously ran a hand through his hair; the gesture was very endearing.
"So how about yourself? Duncan is notoriously meticulous about selecting his recruits. How did you catch his attention? I mean other than your obvious skill with a bow and aptitude for witty banter?"
"You forgot my undeniable charm and stunning good looks."
"Oh, of course! How thoughtless of me," he chuckled. "Well whatever the reason, I'm glad you'll be joining our ranks."
Flynn's smile began to fade as the memory of the massacre that had brought her to the wardens suddenly flooded over her. Alistair noticed that she had fallen behind and turned to find her sitting on the steep creek embankment. She fiddled with her shin guard buckles to avoid his gaze and self-consciously tried to wipe tears away from her eyes.
"I'm sorry Flynn. I didn't mean to say anything to upset you," He stammered.
"No, it's not that, Alistair; you have nothing to apologize for at all. I just...I suppose it's a story for another time." She stood and brushed the grass from her pants and they continued further into the camp.
They finally found Ser Jory and Daveth mulling about in front of the main entrance to the mess hall. Daveth, a small weasely fellow, grinned predatorily at Flynn as they approached. His beady eyes slid over her body.
"Well, well, look what we have here Ser Jory. It seems the Maker does answer prayers."
Ser Jory, an equally repellent man with a bulbous nose and very unfortunate hairline, guffawed idiotically. So much for her presumption that all Grey Wardens were tall and handsome like in the books her father brought her. She shot a sideways glance at Alistair who was running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair again...well perhaps the books were not completely off base. Flynn dropped her eyes and pretended to be incredibly interested in a smudge on her boot when he turned back to face her.
Daveth snickered something clearly lewd and inappropriate into Ser Jory's ear, sending the portly man into a fit of girlish giggles.
"If you two are quite finished," Alistair grumbled impatiently, "Duncan has recruited each of you for the honor of becoming grey wardens. Our first task is to prepare for your joining ceremony. We will be venturing into the wilds to retrieve a cache of documents containing ancient Grey Warden treaties and three vials of darkspawn blood."
"Hold on a minute," Ser Jory sputtered, "Darkspawn blood? As in from actual darkspawn? Are you mad?"
Flynn shook her head disgustedly...receding hairline and a coward.
"Well, what did you expect Ser Jory? Did you think that all of these soldiers were gathering here to sing jaunty tunes and dance gaily about a maypole? Come on, the blight isn't going to defeat itself." She picked up her pack and set off down the path towards the blockade.
Daveth whistled lecherously under his breath as he watched her walk away, "You know I think I might like being a Grey Warden after all."
Alistair gave him a withering look and jogged to catch up with her. They made their way out of the encampment and into the woods.