Belinda was delighted when she saw the broad-shouldered man inside the stables, carving away at a wooden figure. At last, they were both at Skyhold at the same time. She practically skipped into the stables and called out, "I'm so glad to finally meet you!"
The man straightened to look at her. She marveled at the majesty of his beard as a puzzled look formed on his face. "I'm afraid you must have me confused with someone else. Maybe you're looking for Master Dennet? I think he's around the side of the building."
Belinda directed her most winning smile at him. "No, I was looking for Blackwall, the Grey Warden, and I'm pretty sure that you're him."
"That's a good guess," Blackwall said gruffly. He put down his carving tool and looked Belinda up and down. The inspection was slightly unnerving. He reminded her of a warrior sizing up a potential enemy. After so much time in battle, she supposed, the habit might be ingrained in him.
She smiled again, hoping to put him at ease. "It is such a pleasure to meet you. I'm Belinda." She had a brief memory of her Templar superiors chiding her for being overly familiar. "Uh, Ser Belinda Darrow." She bowed politely.
"Ah. You're a Templar, then?" Blackwall asked.
"I am. Though I'm no longer with the Order, I serve the Inquisition now. They are the most righteous cause in these hard times," she said with enthusiastic fervor.
"What do you need from me, Ser Belinda?" Blackwall asked.
"I just hoped we could talk about the Grey Wardens for a bit," Belinda said.
Blackwall's shoulders went back, and she could see the tension in the cords of his neck. "What do you know about the Grey Wardens?"
"Very little. You're the first Warden I've actually met," she admitted. Oddly, he seemed to relax at that. "I was only a child during the Blight, but I remember all the adults being terrified of the darkspawn. They thought that once Ferelden fell, the darkspawn would spill across the Waking Sea and sack the Free Marches. When word came that the Hero of Ferelden and the other Wardens had saved us by defeating the archdemon, there was a party the likes of which I'll probably never see again. Everyone was talking about the Wardens' heroism and courage, how they saved everyone despite the cost to themselves. I've admired you ever since. Wardens, I mean, not just you personally."
Blackwall scowled. "We are just men and women like any other, milady."
"But I don't think that's true!" Belinda said. "You've dedicated your life to serving something greater than yourself. That's something special."
'Is that why you joined the Templars?" Blackwall asked.
Belinda thought a moment. "Partly. I wanted to protect people, to make a difference. And I'd always been drawn to the Chantry. Then I met the Divine, and knew I was on the right path. She seemed to embody everything that I could ever desire to be." She was quiet for a moment, remembering a resplendent woman in her formal robes whose words for her were gracious and kind, and then sobering as she remembering her fate. She shook away the bitter memory, and deliberately grinned at Blackwall. "Also, it made my parents very happy. My family's known for its devotion to the Chant, but my older brothers, ah, didn't really share it."
"So you've known for most of your life what you wanted?" Blackwall asked. When she nodded, he said, "I envy you that."
"Why did you join the Grey Wardens?" Belinda asked.
Blackwall stiffened again. "Among the Wardens, we don't discuss our pasts, or what led us to become Wardens. Only the person we are now matters."
"My apologies, I meant no offense. As I said, I know little of the Wardens," Belinda said.
"No offense was taken. So did you follow the other Templars to Therinfal Redoubt?"
Belinda was sure that Blackwall was deliberately changing the subject, but given that she'd apparently breached Grey Warden etiquette by asking about his past life, she was glad to be provided with the outlet. "No. When the Templars broke from the Chantry to pursue war against the mages, I stayed with the Chantry. My loyalty was to the Divine, not to the Knight-Commanders who abandoned her."
"Do you have regrets about that?"
She shook her head. "I made the right choice. If I'd followed the Templars, I might have wound up as one of those horrid lyrium-corrupted creatures." She paused, thinking, and dropped her eyes to the ground. "Or if not… Can you imagine how it would feel, to have followed your commander's orders, believing them to be righteous, only to find that you had been part of something horrible?" She added more cheerfully, "I've been much better off with the Chantry and the Inquisition."
Blackwall was silent. She glanced up at him and couldn't keep herself from gasping in horror. He looked like he'd been stabbed in the gut, his face gray and haggard. "I'm sorry!" she blurted. "Apparently I keep saying the wrong things…"
Blackwall sat down heavily and took a deep breath. "I don't blame you," he said slowly. 'There was no way you could know… But if you please, I would prefer to be alone."
"Of course," Belinda said, but she found it hard to turn away from the man. She had hurt him without meaning to, and he seemed so lonely. She backed away a few steps to indicate she was leaving, but offered, "I could come to visit you again, if you wish."
Blackwall rested his chin in his hand. "No, I think you shouldn't. There are far better men and women to spend your time with in this fortress. You should introduce yourself to Seeker Pentaghast. Or Commander Cullen, or even the Inquisitor."
How could the man be so blind to his own heroism? Did he not know how inspirational his mere presence was? She smiled at him, hoping to lighten his mood. "But I know you're a good man. Everyone here agrees on that. I heard that when the Inquisitor found you, you were teaching peasants to defend themselves against bandits. Never mind all those years you spent fighting darkspawn."
"Leave me be. Please," was his pained reply.
She wanted to protest further, but she knew she had to obey his repeated pleas. She could only hope as she walked away that the Inquisition's successes would eventually overwhelm whatever was troubling him. In that, she could play a small part.