Shepard grimaced internally as Alistair sprinted away from her, his ridiculous armor flashing in the light from the campfire. Great. They thought she was the crazy one. Letting out a sigh she grabbed the tent fabric and secured it to the rickety old fashioned tent poles standing haphazardly before her. With a huff she turned to the next pole as her mind dissected the conversation with the two wardens over and over.

Their confusion over simple things like the Alliance boggled her, and not knowing the year? She shook her head, tying the top two poles together. Alistair could have maybe been an anomaly but Aiden had also been just as confused. That being despite the AI they seemed to have wandering around their camp. Pausing she tilted her head towards the stars, chest aching with more than just bruises. Aiden had been right. What was she going to do if the whole planet had the same technological capabilities as she had seen so far? How on earth was she going to leave?

Frowning she got back to work, shoving the unwelcome thoughts aside. Since Aiden clearly hadn't believed her, why the fortuitous change of heart? A crazy woman came sprinting into his camp claiming to live in the stars when he had probably never seen anything more advanced than a horse and cart. Had she been in Aiden's shoes she wouldn't have hesitated to kick his ass to the curb. Her crew always came first. Shepard tugged on the canvas as she secured it, hands clumsy with the worn fabric, thoughts racing. What exactly had Aiden meant when he asked her if she was a blood mage? What was a Templar and why was Alistair no longer one? All this talk of mages and mana, and the Fade… it set her teeth on edge. Mystical crap. she thought angrily. And Aiden had called her the crazy one?

"Did the tent do something to you or are you always so violent with hapless pieces of fabric?" Shepard jerked, blinking at Alistair as he strolled closer, his smile strained as he regarded her.

"What?"

He gestured to the crumpled canvas in her hands, "The tent?"

Shepard tensed, glancing down at the tear she'd rent in the fabric during her musings. To her surprise she felt a blush creep across her cheeks. "I suppose sometimes I don't know my own strength." She jumped to her feet as he came closer, instinctively straightening to be on equal ground. "Sorry about that." She held the torn fabric before her, "I can fix it."

He quirked an eyebrow, a lopsided grin slowly creeping across his face. "Really? I would think in your fancy star home you wouldn't need to learn how to mend."

She hesitated, pulling the canvas closer. "Well, I didn't learn how to mend on the Normandy, if that's what you mean." Shepard tilted her head, watching as he walked over to a nearby tent, returning a moment later with a needle and thread.

"Then where did you?" he asked.

She hesitated, inspecting the cloth clutched in her hands. "I grew up poor in a backwater colony. Living with nothing, well… you learn how to make do." Shepard shrugged, confused at her willing confession. Suspiciously she brushed a hand against the bandages on her head. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought?

Alistair interrupted her musing as he fiddled with the thread awkwardly. "Ah, well if it makes you feel any better I was raised in a stable." He blushed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, and nearly stabbing himself with the needle in the process. "Oops!" Diving down he scooped it back up, pulled the tent firmly onto his lap.

Shepard blinked up at Alistair in surprise ignoring his fumbling's. "Are you serious?"

"Yup." He nodded at her sagely, catching the thread tumbling from his hands. "It was a rather dull existence, if I may say so. Here." He reached out, handing her the supplies. "I'll leave this to your care then, I'm helpless at that sort of thing. I tried mending my socks just yesterday. They ended up all wrinkled and puckered." He sighed dramatically. "I don't think they'll ever sit the same again."

Shepard snorted, hiding her smile with her hand. "Pretty sure that was a hole I saw when I was fixing your leg."

He let out a mock squawk of protest. "You saw nothing of the sort!" Alistair grinned unashamed, bending down to sit on the log next to her tent, quite a feat in all the armor he was wearing. He patted the spot next to him invitingly, watching her with dancing brown eyes. "Since that might take you a while, mind some company? I did promise to answer all your questions awhile back didn't I? No time like the present!" He hesitated, "assuming you don't mind of course."

She stared at him uncertainly. Caught off guard by the unfamiliar smile curling the edges of her mouth. Alistair had a disarming sort of charm to him that was dangerous in an entirely different way to Aidens blatant posturing. He was too easy to talk to.

"Shepard?"

"Hm? Oh!" She flushed, caught in her musing. "Yes, if you wouldn't mind."

With a huff she sat on the log next to him, her armored thigh almost brushing his. With determination, she attacked the canvas with the needle and thread, stitching the tear with precision accuracy. Soon she lost herself in the rhythm, careful with her borrowed supplies.

Alistair shifted next to her in the ensuing silence, awkwardly clearing his throat. "So… anything in particular you wanted to ask?"

She paused in her singular task, eyes tracking the consistencies of her stitches, mulling over all the questions tumbling around in her head. She decided to start with the most accessible. "Those creatures in the forest, you mentioned something about them being a blight?" Shepard pushed her hair back from her face, ignoring the throb still lingering in her temples to watch Alistair closely. Best to know now if all the magical crap was going to extend into all their conversations.

"Oh them! Darkspawn. " He grinned warmly. "Well, you've come to the right place then, as a Grey Warden, I'm supposed to be an expert on that sort of thing."

"A Grey Warden?"

He blinked at her in surprise. "Almost everyone has heard of the Grey Wardens." At her blank look he leaned forward, tapping the griffon emblazoned on his breastplate. "You know, warriors of unimaginable skill? Sworn to defend the land from a Blight at any cost?" Shepard shrugged watching his indignant expression with amusement. "Hmph." He slumped back deflated, fiddling with his gauntlets. "Well, suffice to say the Grey Wardens are something of a big deal as it were."

Shepard nodded mentally filing away that this was a military operation of some sort she had stumbled across.

With a huff Alistair continued, "The darkspawn are cursed and blighted creatures, the remnants of the first Tevinter Magisters who breached the Maker's Golden city and were cast back to Thedas for their transgressions."

Blinking in surprise at the wealth of information she paused. Mentally pushing away from the religious context she could hear blooming beneath Alistair's words she focused instead on the facts. The same Imperium that had built the road had also created these creatures. "This Blight… you've mentioned it before. I'm assuming then as a Grey Warden these darkspawn are part of the problem?"

"Part of the problem?" Alistair shifted next to her, expression aghast. "They are the problem, Shepard! They swarm up from the Deep Roads like locusts, tainting everything they touch. If they aren't stopped they'll sweep across Thedas and annihilate everything and everyone in their path. And Aiden and I…" His expression darkened, "we're the only ones left in Ferelden who can stop them for good."

Shepard huffed out a soft laugh next to him, the irony of the situation not lost on her. Another save the world cause? Next to her Alistair jerked to his feet, towering over her. "I hardly think the end of civilization is something to snicker at."

Shepard reached up, grasping his gauntleted hand to still his righteous pacing. "I'm sorry Alistair, I'm not laughing at the situation you have here. Truth be told it sounds horrible, but I just got off a "save the galaxy" tour, and honestly, I was hoping I had ended up somewhere where the apocalypse wasn't nigh." She released him, sliding her fingers up through her hair. "You said the darkspawn tainted things? What does that mean exactly?"

He shifted, hand flexing momentarily before settling at his side. "Anyone or anything who comes into contact with the taint becomes blighted. For living things that means becoming just like the darkspawn. If they survive the transition of course."

"Of course." she replied quietly. Her mind thought of the husks on Eden Prime and a shudder rolled down her spine. Could it be something similar in technology that was creating these creatures? "It would have been nice not to be surrounded by death."

Alistair hesitated, eyes tracking her bent head. "You said you saved the galaxy?" He shifted. "Isn't the galaxy that super big thing with all the many different people inside of it? Us included?"

Shepard sighed, rubbing her eyes. "That, my friend, is a story for tomorrow." She smiled up at him wearily. "Which reminds me, how's the leg?"

"Don't worry about me, I heal fast." He smiled apologetically, bending down to pluck the mended canvas from her hands. "Here, why don't you let me set this up so you can catch some sleep? I can imagine how tired you must be."

Shepard pulled herself to her feet, watching as the big warrior tied the canvas and ran off to fetch her a bed roll. "Alistair? Why are you and Aiden the only ones left?" she asked as he finished tying off the tent.

He froze, tension radiating across his frame. Alistair fiddled with the tie in his hands as he murmured, "Our order was betrayed. Ferelden was betrayed." He stopped, shifting, his body once again stilling in the hushed night. "We were to have defeated this Blight before it even began… but one of the generals, Loghain. He… abandoned the field, took his troops and left. Aiden and I are the only ones who made it out alive. He left everyone Shepard, including our King." He turned his head to regard her, "And with it he's doomed us."

Shepard cringed, images of Akuze flashing through her mind. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Alistair blinked up at her, a small smile gracing his features. "Thank you."

Suddenly everything hit Shepard like a slap in the face. King? Oh great. She was trapped on this godforsaken planet wasn't she? With its darkspawn, and its Blight and its ridiculous Grey Wardens and their helpless cause. What had happened to Normandy? What about her crew? What was Hackett saying to placate the Batarians screaming for her head? Even now was war bearing down on Earth?

"Shepard?" She jerked, swaying slightly as Alistair's big hand closed around her shoulder. Concerned brown eyes peered at her beneath a tangle of blond hair. "Why don't you go lay down? I have first watch tonight, so I'll be up for a while yet." He patted her arm awkwardly, "I'm sure everything will be better in the morning, and hey! If anyone can help you contact your friends, the Circle will be the place. Assuming your, what was it s-h-u-t-t-l-e? Isn't working of course."

She chuckled as he deliberately over emphasized the foreign word. "Thanks Alistair." She shifted past him, deactivating the seals on her armor as she pushed aside the canvas. Inside she wrenched off the pieces of ceramic, watching the flap fall closed on Alistair's armored form rimmed in the firelight.