U is for Unwilling

"It's odd, isn't it," Morrigan remarked over the meal, looking off to the far end of the campsite where the others were gathered around the communal fire. "How many of us are here against any desires of our own."

Arren looked up, and frowned. "You don't want to be here with me?"

She smiled warmly at him. "With you, yes. But surely you must recall that I only joined this little expedition of yours in the first place because Flemeth forced the choice on me."

Arren nodded. "True," he agreed.

"And your own addition to the Grey Wardens that ultimately landed you with this responsibility – it was a choice between death and the joining, was it not?"

"Yes," Arren agreed, and frowned in thought.

"Mouse was a lone survivor, his previous master already dead, you the only being apart from his kennel master – presumably dead at Ostagar – that he knew. Sten we rescued from slow death in Lothering. The bard joined willingly enough, I'll grant you that," she added, then shrugged. "But she did not last."

She put down her plate, and continued ticking off their companions on her fingers. "The assassin failed to kill you and lived, and therefor became a target for all other Crows, leaving remaining with you as his one hope of safety. Wynne joined willingly enough, but her other choice would have been to remain in a Tower where almost all of her compatriots had just died vilely, staffed by on-edge templars, while hiding the fact that she had acquired an in-dwelling spirit. The difference between which and a demon is likely to escape those who have just suffered through an outbreak of the latter."

Arren slowly nodded, and took up the count. "Jowan we rescued from prison and a likely death. Oghren had become an outcast in all but name, and had nothing left to keep him in Orzammar. Mara and Owen were in danger of punishment by the chantry for having been too effective at saving others during the demon outbreak," he finished, and frowned. "I see what you mean. The only one of us who was actually willing to be here from the start..."

"...is Alistair," Morrigan said, and turned to look across the camp again, eyeing the ex-templar. "Willing enough to join the Grey Wardens, anyway, knowing what he did of what his future would likely be... and even then, he had to be conscripted in order to get him out of the grasp of the chantry. I do wonder if he was truly as willing as he seems, or if that is merely a pretence. Lying to himself, to make himself feel better about yet another choice in his life having been forced upon him," she clarified.

"I don't know. I doubt if even he knows, or could say," he added, then smiled. "Still... for a random bunch of rejects, we're doing a good job, so far."

"That we are," Morrigan agreed, and picked up her plate again. "I think perhaps the most surprising thing about such a mixed bag as this is that we are all, as the assassin would say, ridiculously awesome."

Arren laughed, and resumed eating, lips curved in a broad smile.