AN: Woo, chapter 11, yay! I'd like all my readers to know that I'm always taking requests on what you'd like to see in the story into consideration, so let me know what you guys think!
Dragon Age is Bioware's baby; I'm simply hanging around in the crib. xD
"How was I supposed to know that he was the king?"
Duncan sighed at Kit's exasperated question. The easiest thing done was chase down Kit to begin with. Explaining to her that the man she clocked in the jaw was not only a very powerful man, but one that also held a lot of sway in potential futures wasn't as easy, as she sharply went from disbelief to mortification mixed with anger. It wasn't that Cailan could be swayed to take drastic measures, given his jovial nature towards the young woman and his stubborn streak he had with the order in general, but there were just some things that one didn't do as a Grey Warden. Taking swings at royalty was one such thing.
"Regardless of him being king or not, I would like you to apologize to him-"
"Apologize? He started it-"
"And I am finishing it," Duncan interrupted. "Everyone at camp is under enough stress as it is, along with the king. Though he doesn't show it, it's better to show a united front under his direction." He ducked his head down to keep hers in sight as she looked off to the side. "I understand how you can be upset-"
"Do you? Do you really understand?" Kit snapped. "Okay, sure, the way I reacted to his statements could have been handled differently. But from my own personal experience of men abusing the power somehow bestowed upon them, I know for a fact what kind of depths they're capable of. Forget him being a king for two minutes; how was I supposed to know that he wasn't one of them?"
"Trust," he replied simply.
Kit huffed. "Trust," she repeated with a roll of her eyes. "What, trust that he's not like them, trust that he'll only use his kingly powers 'for the better of all man' as he calls any woman he wants to his bed?"
"The same trust you've shown Daveth can be shown to others," Duncan advised. "Not only did you allow him to teach you, you also confided to him in your hour of need, did you not?"
Her frown increased almost immediately. "I didn't," she stated. When he looked like he was going to ask further, she cut him off. "I didn't confide in him; he found out by himself, purely by coincidence." Her hands clenching and unclenching into fists, she added, "If he hadn't walked in like that, he still wouldn't know."
He seemed to think to himself for a few moments, before shaking his head. "There is a saying we use in my homeland: 'only the mountain tops never meet'."
"What does that mean?"
"That there are no such things as coincidences. If you weren't going to say anything, he still would have found out eventually for himself."
Kit sighed herself, pressing her fingers against a developing ache on her third eye. He didn't get it at all! "Listen, I'll think about it, if it'll please you. In the meantime, I think I'll go and see what can be seen in camp."
"Fair enough," he conceded. "You can find me in the Grey Wardens encampment should you need anything."
She gave him a quick nod before turning on her heel and marching off into the camp. There had to be something for her to do, instead of wondering what in Andraste's name mountains had to do with coincidences.
o0o0o
Sitting in an open patch of sunlight close to the mage encampment, free from any trodden chainmail encased boot, a younger, silver-haired mage sat cross-legged with a thick tome laid open across her legs. Her head rested on her curled left hand as it balanced on her knee, her right playing idly with a gathering of thick, silver strands that liked to stubbornly fall into her face while she was reading. Her favorite tome of her favorite adventures of the outside world was one that First Enchanter Irving had allowed her to take with her, after her many assurances that she would keep it safe for him. His saying that he must have had a few other copies somewhere in his office sealed the deal for her.
She had just reached her favorite part, as the Tevinter Imperium began its great fall, when a stretch of her back and neck brought her eyes up to see a woman who must have been about her age, standing just off to the side of the raised platform a Chantry sister was using to pray openly for the soldiers. The other girl noticed the mage's open stare soon enough; not knowing what to do otherwise, she waved to the strange girl. She considered the mage momentarily before waving back.
"I'm Solona," the mage introduced herself, almost too quiet to hear over the din of clanking metal.
Since the girl was still looking at Solona, however, she managed to catch what was being said. "Kit," she replied.
Wow, what a cool sounding name! Instead of saying that aloud, she nodded. "Hi," she mumbled, blushing softly.
Kit's mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "Hi."
Both girls fell silent as Solona turned her gaze back down to the tome. After nervously starting the new paragraph over a few times, Kit's voice interrupted her efforts. "What are you reading?"
Solona's head snapped back up, before nervously tucking her hair back behind her ears. "Oh! Well, I ah... it's the, um, general history of Ferelden and its mages."
Kit chuckled aloud. "No wonder it looks so thick."
"It is, but it's all so very fascinating!" Solona insisted. "I feel I learn something new every time I read it!"
"You mean... you've read it more than once?"
"Of course... in fact, I think I lost track after..." Solona thought to herself, then stated with assurance, "twelve times."
As could be expected, Kit's eyes bulged. "Twelve...?"
"It's my favorite," the mage defended softly, curling the book closer to herself.
"I believe you," Kit replied, stepping closer and lowering herself down to Solona's side. "So, you must be here with the rest of the mages..."
Fiddling her fingers along the edge of the book's cover, Solona sheepishly replied, "Not exactly... I'm here to be a Grey Warden."
"Really?"
Solona nodded her reply, eyes glued to her pages. Wynne was doubtful as well, which could be understandable. How many Grey Warden mages were shy, awkward at best bookworms?
"Why not read in the Grey Warden encampment?"
"I... guess I didn't expect so many people to be there. It... it can be intimidating for a mage." Seeing Kit's confused look, Solona added, "This is the first time I've traveled outside of the Circle tower."
"Oh..." Both girls fell silent once more, which Solona spent slowly turning a page. As curious as she was about Kit, it would be flat out rude to start peppering her with questions. Besides, it wasn't exactly like her to do that to people she just met.
But now we're just sitting here... if only they taught classes on how to socialize at Kinloch!
"Would it help if I said this was my first time outside of Denerim?" Kit asked.
Solona cast a sideways look to Kit, a hint of an excited smile beginning to show. "Denerim... is that where Brother Genetivi lives? Have you met him?" She contradicted herself almost immediately, saying, "No, you couldn't have, he's almost always out on his adventures."
Kit smiled openly. "No, I haven't had the chance."
"What's Denerim like? I know it's the capital city... how many people are there?"
She looked around the camp, as if gauging how many people were around them, before answering. "I don't think we'll be able to tell by just sitting here..." Turning to Solona once more, she asked, "How about we take an adventure of ourselves and see how Ostagar compares to Denerim?"
The mage in question quickly looked down at her book as the offer to go on an adventure sank in... she always did wonder what it was like to go on an adventure of her own. Why not start on a relatively small and safe one such as this? Tucking the same errant strands of hair behind her ear, she looked up at Kit and smiled.
o0o0o
"I do not see the point of this."
Daveth resisted the urge to roll his eyes (though it was an impressive feat) at the irritating man who decided to continue complaining. Ser Jory from Highever... the rogue learned everything he needed to know about the man within the first five minutes of meeting him, which was him leaving behind a wife and soon-to-be-coming child to serve the Grey Wardens, and him not understanding why they had to go through more rituals or tests if they had apparently already earned their place. Granted, the whole business of the Joining ritual Daveth discreetly overheard the previous night was mysterious, especially with how everyone was keeping mum about it to the recruits.
Still, he couldn't resist poking a bit of fun. "Are you blubbering again?" he asked slyly, leaning up against the slanted wall surrounding the merchant's corner of camp, arms crossed in fake nonchalance.
"No, I just fail to see the point of performing more tests. Have we not already earned our place?"
Daveth shook his head. "Ser knight, you say you've participated in tournaments, yes?"
"I have; I was recruited from one in Highever," Jory defended.
"What if that's all this is? Some kind of tournament... they've picked the best from the rest, and now they need to decide the best from the best."
"But they already call us Wardens," Jory persisted. "Granted, it's Warden 'recruits', but Wardens nonetheless... right?" As Daveth didn't answer, he continued. "I only know that had I known about all of this, I wouldn't have left behind my wife and child."
"Interesting... where are they living again?"
"Highever... why do you ask?"
"Just checking," Daveth dryly commented.
"Now is not the time to jest," Jory replied, a hint of edge in his tone. He continued on with his ranting, but Daveth tuned him out, focusing on a certain branch of a tree just past Jory's shoulder. It must have been a week or so since he left Denerim, and while he wasn't sad to leave the city, he was ready to climb the walls from boredom, especially without Kit around to spar with... or get into mischief with... Maker's balls, even talking to her would be a welcome reprieve.
And much like his thoughts did recently, once they turned to Kit, they almost immediately shifted to where he stood with her. He surely couldn't forget past actions, nor the look of complete surprise when he pulled back from their first kiss, but he was a good man. He wouldn't push her into anything she wasn't comfortable with... but as months passed, and certain events happened the way they did, he began to wonder if anything would happen at all.
His fist clenched subtly as he thought back on Kit's father. Time didn't ebb those ill feelings, but only made thoughts of exacting revenge that much more diverse. It was a true shame that he didn't get the chance to act on them before he left for the Grey Wardens, to just have that one chance to raise hell and fulfill vendetta's before joining the safety the order provided.
Those eyes she had, when Daveth found the asshole with Kit, would forever sear him. There were just some things that couldn't be forgotten.
Jory's hand waving in front of his face drew Daveth's attention suddenly, though he did nothing more than look at the knight and arch a brow to show he was back in the conversation. Jory, in turned, gave Daveth an exasperated look. "How can you fight in battle when you tune out people so readily?"
"Oh, I listen when I need to. Trust me on that, ser knight."
After sighing with exasperation, Jory spoke again. "I was just remarking on the two of them," he said, waving his hand towards a pair of women that caught his attention. One was obviously a mage, from the near identical robes she was wearing that he had spotted on other mages- from a distance, of course- but the other woman he was having a hard time placing. She was slight of build and not dressed in armor, which could peg her as a simple servant girl, or a messenger. Yet the lack of a standard garb that he had seen on other female servants gave him a bit of pause... as did her company, in fact.
The magi were normally off to their own devices, so spending time with a non-mage seemed out of the norm to see. And the way the plainly dressed woman was carrying herself-
Daveth's silent form striding across his vision broke through his thoughts. He was apparently going in the same direction as the duo of women... and was apparently done listening to Jory.
"Maker's breath," he muttered, rolling his eyes.