Alistair had never felt so unwelcome in a library since he and Amell had stormed the Circle of Magi at Lake Calenhad some three or four years ago. Instead of abominations and charred corpses hurling arrows and errant spells, he had a single severe looking Elven Mage staring ironbark blades into the back of his head. Or at least he was sure of it since the Orlesian Warden had entered the massive, bordering on ancient, library of Weisshaupt Fortress only minutes after Alistair and Bethany themselves settled in with a stack of scrolls and books.
"Is she still there?" his whispered question directed at his equally perturbed companion.
"If by 'there' you mean, looking you over like a blight wolf eyes a future venision dinner, then yes. She's very much still there." Bethany spoke, now decked out in the blue and silver padded armor bearing the mark of dual griffons.
"What is her deal, Alistair? Did you - did you dog ear an old tome or wipe your nose on a scroll? Burp excessively loud? This place echoes, ya know."
"No! None of those things", Alistair scrunched his features in disgust. "And do we really want to bring up the burping? I was raised in the Chantry - where burping was a sin. As for you..."
Bethany gaped at him in mock horror, "I do NOT burp."
"Shhh, shhh, shhh, woman - its a library not some kitchen in Kirkwall where loud, rude outbursts pass for compliments."
The Mage's eyes landed on a drying quill, which she quickly hurled at her companion's head. The writing implement slid down his face until the blackened tip hung on Alistair's lip, which caused the Senior Warden to start half spitting, half blowing in reflex trying to knock it off. Any still moist ink that had remained on the tip now spattered lightly across Bethany's face and new armor.
"I'm going", she wiped at a bit of ink beneath her eyes, smearing it like blackened tears "- to kill you."
Alistair stuck his tongue out, causing the quill to land quietly on the table before him, "Its your fault, hurling things about like a dig-happy Mabari."
"Oh, so I'm a hound now? Forget it, death is too good for you."
"Frog time, I take it?"
"What?"
"Forget it, I said nothing. Death is o-kay", the man spoke, his lips had formed the 'O' in okay in an overly animated manner which only served to highlight the dark ink that now stained his bottom lip.
It was difficult for Bethany to surpress her bout of laughter. The grand library echoed her tittering for its brief tenure, which was quickly silenced now that the Elven Mage was hovering over Alistair's shoulder.
"I should like to speak with the Blonde one", Fiona spoke carefully in the King's Tongue. Bethany absently at her other cheek, and made a matching set of onyx streaks beneath her other eye as she stood up from the table and backed away.
Alistair's head slightly shook 'No' to his retreating friend, who dared not to look away from the woman who stood behind him. His stomach churned noisily as a heavy, unseen weight decided to take up residence within his chest.
Bethany felt equal parts relieved and guilty for having left Alistair alone with that Elven Woman. It had been said she'd written a number of the volumes within the great repository in regards to Theories on the Darkspawn and their behaviour. She paced her way to her room, pondering her friend's fate, only for her thoughts to drift back to her ink stained countenance.
A smile crossed her face. She enjoyed his company, nettling one another for hours during their travels. It reminded her of palling around with her brothers over the years, and it comforted her knowing she wasn't going to be as alone as she thought she'd be amongst the Grey Wardens.
"Of all the people - a Templar", she laughed to herself while approaching the door to her assigned room.
The door refused to open, with a reluctant sigh she began fishing amongst her new armor's hidden pockets for the key. Being a fortress in the blighted lands of the Anderfels, Weisshauptt's rooms were each set up for any kind of prolonged siege and eventual invasion by the Darkspawn hordes or even more humane invaders. Each room had its own unique key for occupants to lock themselves in should the worse happen, in addition to this runes were set into the walls much like in the Nevarran Warden compound but not only for fire for light but also small basins set in the floor that would fill with fresh water when the dweomer was disturbed. This Grey Warden reliance on runes had put it in the young mage's head to eventually get someone to teach her how to etch and enchant them.
Upon finding the key she grinned in triumph then let herself. Bethany's grin was changed to a dour expression as she found a short man rooting through her belonging.
"Ahem", she announced herself.
"The corruption does something to surviving plants that causes people to suffer allergies. Might want to dunk your head in a bucket of water and clear out your nose", her intruded offered advice without looking back, still sorting through a small bundle that made Bethany cringe upon sighting its contents was her small clothes.
"Raleigh, get your paws off my unmentionables... or I'll freeze your head in a bucket of water."
The rusty-haired Elf quickly turned and faced the young Mage, each of his eyes had a loincloth covering them, "If I can't see you I'm not in trouble."
Bethany bit her lower lip, "Raleigh, those - those are my used small clothes."
The Elf gagged and daintily removed the offending clothing bits from his face "Mind if I wash my face in the basin?"
"Get out."
"Right, right."
She gestured toward the open door. He hung his head and made his way out in a slow melancholic manner.
"Wait", she called to him.
He looked up slowly, a lecherous grin marring his youthful, exotic features, "yessss?"
"Why were you in here? You know I have nothing of value, you thief, so... why?"
"There is a letter from your Uncle, uhh, Gamble? Gremlin? Something. I dunno, it smelled of rum and cheap perfume."
Bethany grimaced, "Uncle Gamlen wrote me? Odd, usually its Mother."
The Nevarran criminal pickthank, Stroud recruited on their way out of the Free Marches, shrugged then vacated the girl's presence as she mulled over the news.