Old Friends
Levi
These Wardens seem decent, but they're... a bit strange, to say the least. Not like the tales he's heard of his great-gran.
Well, they are in some respects. Watching them fight is... bloody terrifying, really, though he'd never say it to their faces.
He's sure that the Grey never used to be this young. He's used to keeping the company of grizzled, scarred Wardens that are more than a little intimidating to a humble merchant - even Duncan used to be a little uncomfortable round the older ones. These two, though...
It's obvious once they've put the weapons away, in her stammering, and the way she sometimes pretends not to stare at the fellow. He slaps a palm to his face. Honestly, is the other Warden blind?
Looks like it.
He sighs, thinking that they really need someone to bang their heads together. Duncan would probably have done it... Maker, he still misses his old friend, knows of the story of the Ostagar tragedy. He knows that the other Warden does too; he's heard him mention the man's name, saw something shift behind his eyes when he said Duncan was an old friend.
He finally realises after a week on the road, when he hears them speaking in hushed tones by the fire.
"You should speak to him. He'll understand."
"I don't know... It just seems so... Maybe it's not my place. I only knew the man for six months, after all."
"Stop it."
"What?"
"You'll have a good idea, and then you'll talk yourself out of it. You were the same outside your sister's house."
"Yes, and that turned out so well..."
"You know now, don't you? Instead of wondering for the rest of your life. You've seen her, and you know a little of her." She adds in an undertone, "You know she's..." A long pause. The younger Warden clears her throat, her tone brighter. "Certainly not worth spending money on."
The other - Alistair, that was it - laughs. "Well, that's one way of putting it."
"Just speak to him. And trust yourself for once. No wonder you didn't want to be king."
What in Andraste's name - ?
"I still don't. Nothing's changed. And I'm barely of royal blood anyway. I'm not Rowan's. I just... Why are you so determined to put me on the throne? You never answered me."
He sees it, now it's been said - the lad certainly has Maric in him. A bastard, eh?
"I'm not. I don't..." She coughs. "Go. Speak to Levi. You both knew Duncan."
"I..."
"We were there. You lost your family at Ostagar. He'll understand better than I can."
They were at the fortress? They must have seen the worst of it, then...
The words are quiet, the lad trying to pretend it doesn't matter. "You know, I'm not sure I did. Lose all my family, I mean." A long, surprised silence, and then the Warden climbs hastily to his feet. It's with nervous steps - dear Maker, this Alistair looks like he's about to trip over a stone - that the fellow approaches him, and it seems to take a while for him to speak. "You, er... You knew Duncan, didn't you?"
He nods, and the memories start to come back.