AN: Yay! Special weekend means I'm giving back to you, my readers, by giving you two of everything: two chapters here, two chapters for Incredible Machine, and two little one shot ficlets (the latter two being pulled off at the last second, go me!). I'm really having lots of fun with this now that I let myself take it into AU territory, and I hope you guys are having fun as well! Whether it's what you like, any mistakes caught, or what you would like to see in the story, drop a line and let me know!

Hot-hot-hot-hot-hot- Dragon Age hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot- Bioware hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot- HOT POCKETS!

... tired brain is tired...


"Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message?"

Alistair had to fight hard to suppress the grin from spreading across his features as the mage in front of him grew a particularly amusing shade of red. It wasn't easy being a Grey Warden ex-Templar, given this situation; the revered mother, knowing full well the implications of the action, chose Alistair- and only Alistair- to 'deliver a message' to the mages. Though he was ignorant most of the time, when it came to his past training and where it could be implied, he was sharp as fresh cheddar.

Maker, I could really go for some cheese right now...

Lost in his thoughts as he was, he completely glossed over everything the mage had told him... though it looked especially angry and supposedly hurtful, given the expression on the mage's face. "We were getting along so well," Alistair remarked. "I was even going to name one of my children after you..." Putting his own little jab into the mix, he added, "The grumpy one."

"Enough! I will see the woman if I must!" The mage turned angrily away from Alistair, leaving behind the small collection of elfroots he was collecting. Approaching a duo of women Alistair was surprised to suddenly find there, the mage snarled, "Get out of my way."

One looked positively white as she skittered behind the back of the other, eyes downcast. The other woman, however, narrowed her gaze at the passing mage, her hand flitting up to the blade on her hip. She followed him with her eyes, head turning to keep him in sight as he passed by. One could taste the tension in the air with her, Alistair figured to himself. After a couple of beats, she seemed to let herself breathe, relaxing her hold on her blade as the first woman came back out of hiding. The second woman seemed to soften even further, giving the first an encouraging grin as they continued forward on their path.

"One good thing about a Blight," Alistair commented aloud as the women drew close enough, "is how it always brings people together." And here was witnessing the best side of that statement.

Both women paused, not saying anything. The silver haired woman flitted her eyes over him for a brief moment before becoming interested in her shoes. The testy one next to her keep hers unnervingly trained on him, however, arching a brow as the silence grew.

"It's like a party," Alistair nervously continued. "We could all stand in a circle, hold hands, sing songs... that'll give the darkspawn something to think about."

To his surprise, the silver haired woman giggled. An even greater surprise came when the second woman softened at the action, allowing a twitch at the corner of the mouth.

Progress! This is good! Keep it up, Alistair... Remembering his manners, he stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "I'm Alistair, Junior Member of the Grey Wardens."

The second woman, not surprisingly, folded her hands behind her back, nodding in greeting instead. The silver haired woman set her hand in his- more like it softly slid in against his- and finally looked up at him.

"Wow," shot out of his mouth before it could be stopped. She really was as pale as he first saw her, and it wasn't due to the rude mage. Pale skin, silver hair and eyebrows, and the bluest eyes he had ever seen in his life instantly captured his attention.

He didn't even realize he was openly staring until the second woman cleared her throat. He startled out of his thoughts to find her looking critically at him. "Is there a problem?" she asked, a hint of a challenge in her tone.

"No, none at all," Alistair insisted. "I've simply never seen eyes like yours before," he admitted to both women, but mainly to the woman whose hand was still enclosed in his... Blush rising up his neck, her hand was instantly dropped. "You may have to forgive me if I seemed rude."

"It's okay," the silver haired woman softly replied. Gathering enough courage herself, she continued. "I'm Solona, and this is Kit. We're both Grey Warden recruits."

"Oh," he said. "I should have recognized you both right away, I apologize."

"I just arrived not too long ago," Kit reassured Alistair, her arms beginning to relax. "No harm done."

"And... I mainly stayed with the mages here so far," Solona added.

He nodded slowly in understanding. He knew that in the very least, someone like Solona would be very recognizable amidst the camp. And now that his thoughts were on it, it was becoming increasingly harder to resist asking. "How... I mean, that is... why..."

"... do I look so pale," Solona finished. As he flushed rather guiltily, she smiled. "It's alright; you aren't the first person to ask, and I know you won't be the last, either. Early on in my apprenticeship, we were learning ice spells, and First Enchanter Irving decided to sit in on this class. I didn't want to show off, or try to impress him, but I did get nervous regardless... Instead of smothering out the fire, I said the words too fast, mixing up a few I believe, and froze myself."

Alistair and Kit winced in sympathy. "How bad was the frostbite?" Alistair asked, having heard stories of the effects of a harsh winter from some of the other Wardens.

"Oh! I feel I may have misinterpreted," Solona quickly stated. "I froze myself, meaning I became close to turning into an ice sculpture. I couldn't see myself too clearly, but I was told that one could see right through my fingers." Avoiding the gaped mouth, wide stares, she finished her short tale. "Once they realized I was melting, the rest of the class was spent keeping me cold until the spell reversal was found and performed. Since then, I've had my white hair and pale skin."

Alistair and Kit fell silent, considering Solona's tale. He supposed it could make sense, especially if one was nervous enough at such a young age and set in a situation like that. Maker knew he felt like a bumbling idiot on a few occasions himself.

"What were you and the mage arguing about?" Kit asked, sensing a change of subject was needed.

"Ah, that," Alistair started. "I believe it wasn't so much of what I was arguing with him about, but more like the implications behind it. You see, I was once a Templar."

Solona openly gaped, rather appropriately so. Kit, on the other hand, gave him a speculative gaze. "A mage hunter?"

"Yes, but I hadn't taken my vows," he instantly corrected. "I was merely training to become one when I was recruited to the order... much to the grand cleric's 'disappointment'."

"So, you haven't..." Solona started.

"I haven't tracked down mages, no. I believe it was the first Harrowing I ever witnessed that changed my mind on becoming a Templar." Seeing Kit's confused look, he explained himself further. "A Harrowing is a ritual for mages; a demon is called in from the Fade and put inside the mage to see if they can resist it."

That was as far as he managed to explain before Kit looked absolutely shocked. Turning to Solona, she asked, "Why would they do such a thing?"

Shyly, the mage replied, "It's to test our mental fortitude and willpower. If we can resist the demon, we become full mages."

"Yes, but... a demon?"

"We go to the Fade each night," Solona explained. "Well, except for the dwarves I would imagine. All sorts of spirits and demons frequent there, and are attracted to those of us that are aware in the Fade... namely, mages. That makes us more attractive to them, and more susceptible to possession, in the case of the demons. The Harrowing is the ritual that puts all that we've learned to the test."

"The mage I witnessed wasn't able to resist," Alistair continued, picking up after Solona's explanation with a pained look. "We had to... end it quickly. I didn't really want to be a Templar after that."

"But, you still have the training, I'd imagine?" Kit asked.

"Yes. Duncan thought that my abilities as a Templar would be useful against the darkspawn that have magic at their disposal, so I kept up with my training."

"I do admit, it'd be useful to have," Solona cautiously said.

"Tell me," Alistair requested. "Have either of you fought darkspawn before?" As both shook their heads no, he continued. "I wasn't prepared for my first one. I didn't expect it to be as monstrous as it was, or as terrifying." Alistair continued on, telling both women about the responsibilities of being an Grey Warden; Solona, he could tell, was paying close attention, while Kit did the same for the first few sentences before her eyes narrowed, looking distinctly away. It first crossed his mind that she was simply bored and not paying attention, but being a master of such actions at the Chantry told him something else... she seemed too aware to simply be daydreaming.

His answer came when she suddenly darted towards him, reaching up and yanking the sword from his sheath. "Wha- hey!" he protested, watching as she turned, unsheathed her dagger-

- and blocked an incoming blow from another of the Warden recruits... Daveth, he thought the man's name was. Alistair backed up, taking Solona with him, to better assess what was happening before stepping into the fray.

Another attack was blocked before both fighters leapt apart, Kit adjusting the sword in her hand a few times as if she were getting used to the weight. They both circled each other, keeping an eye out for any weak spots, or simply on each other.

"You have to admit, I'm getting better," Daveth called across to her.

"You got as far as you did good enough, I'll give you that," Kit replied.

Daveth stilled, straightening and dropping his guard. "'Good enough'? What does 'good enough' mean?"

Kit slashed upwards with the sword while darting forward, getting too close for comfort with the lengthened blade. Daveth ducked away just in time, bringing his blades up to counter-attack the open spot Alistair's sword made. Her body twisted to the side, avoiding the blades, while her left hand circled around his. The butt of Alistair's sword met the trapped hand, forcing Daveth to drop the dagger before it was released.

Daveth's other arm wrapped around Kit's front, pulling her bodily in while trapping the blade of the sword; Kit retaliated by lifting the point of her dagger to Daveth's neck. Both froze before Daveth chuckled, knowing he was had in that round. Slowly, Daveth withdrew his arm, allowing Kit to turn and face her opponent, effectively stepping on the dropped dagger. Daveth kept on stepping backwards, his smile growing. "You'll have to come after me sometime," he taunted, stopping a certain point away where he knew not even the sword would reach him.

"Fine," Kit acquiesced, adjusting her hold on the blade before throwing it behind her, towards Alistair. Once that was done, she scooped up the dagger from under her foot and advanced on Daveth. The same process was started over again, both rogues circling each other, only with Daveth holding his empty hand upraised, with the same assuredness of there being a blade in it.

Testing strikes were performed, and as Kit's were blocked by Daveth's free hand, Alistair found himself closely studying the pair. They had to know each other well to trust one not to injure the other while hindered in such a fashion. Slowly, as not to disturb them, he retrieved his sword before standing back with Solona, continuing to watch them.

"I'm finding myself curious," Daveth wondered aloud, as they circled each other again.

"About what, exactly?" Kit asked. She nearly cursed as Daveth turned his body, forcing her to do the same or be at a disadvantage. It also forced her weak hand to be at the forefront, something he knew she hated. But it would make sense that he'd want to put himself at the advantage, to put his dominant left hand in front. She'd just have to compromise then, wouldn't she?

"Why you're not with your sisters in Denerim," Daveth carefully stated. Kit's foot slipped in surprise, before she sharply righted herself, eyes narrowed and fingers tightened. Ah, she's in a mood today.

"I can't travel now?" she asked him.

"It was just my understanding- and your words- that it's your sisters that keep you in Denerim. And yet you're here."

Kit's right hand darted forward, clanging her blade hard against his in an attempt to knock it loose. Daveth's empty one met hers shortly after, grabbing a hold of her wrist. Swinging it in a wide arc, she wrestled herself loose, returning quickly to her previous stance.

"Something had to have happened-" Daveth started.

"I'm not going to talk about it," Kit insisted.

And yet she was trying to make herself an even smaller target, her arms and legs tensing. Daveth let out an exasperated huff, purposely dropping his guard. "Kit, you're getting angry again."

She dropped hers as well, turning the blades in to rub at her temples. "I know," she muttered, turning away.

Daveth, feeling the fight was coming to an end, sheathed his blade before stepping up to Kit's side. "You know," he quietly told her, "if it has anything to do with... you-know-what, you can tell me-"

In a sudden flurry of movement, Kit swung both blades down to the left, then to the right. Daveth ducked both, though he wasn't expecting the first to happen. His left foot lashed out, catching Kit in the wrists and sending both blades up into the air. Before she could gain her senses, he was there with a firm hold on her right wrist and left shoulder. A well placed swipe with his left foot, and she was pinned to the ground by the bare minimum- something he knew she would appreciate him doing while sending his point across.

Kit remained staring up into his eyes, before relaxing under his hold, sighing. Daveth, however, wasn't convinced. Releasing his hold on her, he rose to his feet. "Are you finished?"

Looking dejected, she raised herself up onto her elbows before reaching a hand up to him. Setting a foot in between her outstretched legs, Daveth started to kneel down, only to barely catch one of her legs as it sharply rose, getting dangerously close to hitting him in the crotch again. "Hey!" he quickly protested, looking up in time to see her grabbing two firm handholds of his shirt.

Oh sod...

Using her momentum, Kit rocked back, pulling Daveth off his feet. With her own foot placed against his stomach, she pushed him up and over, dropping him onto the ground just ahead of her. She rocked back forward and onto her feet after hearing the satisfying grunt of impact, turning to see him remaining in that spot. She stepped closer to his left shoulder, before kneeling to better meet his eyes. "Now I'm finished," she replied, clapping her hand to his shoulder.

As she rose to leave, Daveth caught her hand in his own. She turned back to him, before averting her eyes, knowing what was coming. "Kit, I mean it... You can tell me."

"No, I can't," Kit insisted. Shaking her head, she added, "Not yet."

He sat up, resting back on his hands. "But you will?"

She found herself nodding. "Yeah, I will. Just not today."

"Alright, I can live with that," he settled, rising to his feet. He looked around at the fallen blades, the tally finally adding up in his head. "Where's your other dagger?"