A/N: Short little introduction to Talia Brosca, my new favorite Warden. This was inspired by a 100 day writing challenge I'm doing; the prompt was Making History. It kinda fits.
Anyway, Talia is probably the Warden I'll be using in these little one shots from now on, since all my other Wardens were lost when my pc crashed a while back. I know this one is super short, but I personally really love it too much not to post!
Reviews/criticisms/prompts welcome!
She was curious, always rifling through books and asking questions and searching everywhere they went. And yet, she was never quite satisfied; there was always something new to see, someone different to talk to; but with every answer, every word, every sight, her eyes lit up, going wide and crinkling at the edge as she broke into a smile.
She would look back at her companions, arms outstretched in both invitation and disbelief. She would tilt her head up when it rained, to soak up as much as she could, and sit outside her tent late at night just to stare at the moon and the stars, yawning throughout their trek the next day but never complaining.
She would talk to people-kings and servants and children-and learn their names and their stories, just because she could. She would point to the brand on her face and tap her cheek, just to make sure no one knew what it meant. As soon as she had a sovereign to spare, she would spend it, approaching the first merchant she saw and announcing she'd like to make a purchase, with more enthusiasm than anyone else thought necessary.
She would sit near the fire, legs crossed, warm bowl of soup in her hands, and beg Alistair to tell another story-either a folktale or something from the Chantry or the deeds of the Wardens before them-and lean forward with every word, memorizing it all-the tales, his voice, the feel of the evening wind.
So when Talia Brosca made her final choice above Fort Drakon, she was certain of two things. One, that she wouldn't be remembered as casteless, but as a hero of the Grey Wardens, and two, that there was nothing she'd rather feel in her last moments than the rain upon her skin.