AN: Thank you to Kira Tamarion, Midnight Alley and writingNOOB for your reviews!
Dear diary. I don't know where to start with the back-story, so I won't bother with that right now. If anybody finds this, in this world or, assuming I ever get back home, in the real world, you're just going to have to try and keep up. So, basically, things haven't exactly gone to plan since I arrived in Ferelden. Arriving in Ferelden in the first place wasn't the plan, so I don't know why I expected that I would have any control over what's going to happen while I'm here. Maybe it really is like the game, where the decisions I make will only affect so much, but certain things are going to happen regardless. Like right now, for example. Without even really trying, I've already landed right in the middle of the main story. Of all the people in Ostagar, all the thousands of people (there really are a lot more bodies mulling around than the game alludes to), nobody can expect me to believe that I just happened to bump into the one person who would lead me directly to Duncan the minute I stepped foot inside the camp. Those odds are…well, I'm not a mathematician, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that they're pretty low. Right now, I'm sitting by a bonfire waiting for Duncan to return with Alistair and my fellow recruits. Yes, that's right; I am now a Grey Warden recruit. Bloody marvellous. I still haven't figured out how, or even if, I should warn Duncan of Loghain's betrayal. How can I explain how I know? I can't tell him the truth, he'll think I'm a crazy person. He'll have me sectioned, or whatever it is they do with crazy people in Ferelden. And could telling him actually make things worse? I don't see how it could…although, Loghain is the Queen's father, Duncan might go to Cailan with my information and I could be accused of treason or something. I have no idea what to do, but if I'm going to tell him, I have to do it soon. I'm running out of time. If I survive the Joining, I'll try to write again soon. I have to go now; I've just spotted my new "colleagues" across the camp. Buggar shit fuck.
I snapped my diary shut and tossed it back into the depths of my handbag, and leapt to my feet, smoothing down my dress. Despite my protests, I still hadn't been to the armoury for a change of clothes, although Duncan assured me it was next on the agenda, but I could tell he had bigger concerns at present than my wardrobe. I had bigger concerns than that too, like the Darkspawn taint coursing through my bloodstream, slowly killing me. I'd had pretty bad Mondays before but today was definitely shaping up to be the worst. I thought back to my first Monday at St. Margaret's School for Girls and wrinkled my nose at the unpleasant memory. Well, today was in the top five worst, at least.
"Duncan." I greeted him as he approached me with four other men: three of whom I recognised, one who was a stranger. It didn't take much of my brain power to identify him as Cousland. The large Mabari at his heel banished any doubt that I might have had.
"Lauren," Duncan replied, inclining his head and gesturing to the man on his right, "This is Alistair. He is the junior member of the Order and will be accompanying you and your fellow recruits into the Wilds."
Alistair stepped forward and offered his hand for me to shake.
"Well met, Lauren." He grinned, boyishly.
It was strange, seeing him in real life. It had been strange enough seeing Morrigan, Flemeth and Duncan, but this was… Alistair! He'd been my best friend in the game. Hell, I had sacrificed my Cousland to the Archdemon so that he could go on to rule Ferelden! If Emily could see me now, actually touching Alistair Theirin's hand, she would die! Okay, poor choice of words. But she would be hysterical. She played the game before I did, and had chosen Alistair as the romance option. She was a huge fangirl. So much so that when I played it, her words to me were "You can borrow the game, but do not fall in love with Alistair. You can have Zevran if you want, but don't touch Alistair. He's mine." What a psycho. I didn't really mind, though. I ended up not going through with any of the romance options in the end, although Leliana had proved to be more persistent than I would have expected considering I didn't remember ever coming on to her. I had been more interested in fighting the good fight than making kissy faces at any of my companions, and in the end, I had actually surprised myself by how much I really cared about all of the fictional characters who had fought alongside mine. It took me by surprise, the urgent need I felt to take the fall for Alistair. It had been unexpectedly emotional.
And now, here he was. It was strange. In the game, I had never really thought of Alistair as a guy, he was more like a puppy dog who was handy in a fight and who provided some comic relief. But in the flesh, his imposing physique was difficult to ignore. He towered over me which, admittedly, isn't that difficult to do, given my height. But that wasn't what made him physically intimidating: it was his sheer muscle mass. He looked solid underneath his armour, and his firm handshake only reinforced that impression.
I realised I was staring, and had probably kept hold of his hand a little too long. I cleared my throat and nodded, retrieving my hand from his grip. He smirked, good-naturedly, and ran a hand through his thick, sandy hair. I could feel the blood rising in my face. Oh God, he thinks I'm an idiot. Oh no, he thinks I'm staring because I fancy him! This thought just made me blush even more fiercely and I tore my eyes from his face, trying to regain my composure.
"Well met, Alistair." I replied, keeping my tone as even as possible, and flicked my eyes to the next member of the group: Daveth. I moved to shake his hand and, in my flustered state, almost greeted him by name, but I managed to cover it up at the last second.
"Nice to meet you, Daaaa…rling." I didn't say I covered it up well. He chuckled, and winked at me, taking my hand and, instead of shaking it, planted a light kiss on my knuckles. Oh, for fuck sake.
"Nice to meet you. The name's Daveth. I must say, you're not what I was expecting when Duncan said he'd recruited someone else." He replied, smiling roguishly as his eyes trailed down my body. I struggled to keep my face passive and resist the powerful urge to punch him.
Yes, yes, I've had this conversation with you before. "Not a woman", yes I know. Anxious for this awkward as Hell moment to pass, I responded with a curt smile and turned to Jory.
"Well met, Ser…?" I had finally regained my composure and the ever dignified Jory crossed his arm over his chest and inclined his head, respectfully.
"Jory, messere. It is a pleasure." He replied. And lastly, the only one of the bunch whose face I didn't recognise.
"You must be Cousland." I smiled, warmly at him. He returned my smile, a little weakly, I thought, and I was close to being wounded by the darkness behind his eyes as he took my hand in greeting, before I remembered that he had just lost his family. The gravity of what had happened to this poor man hit me unexpectedly like a ton of bricks, and brought back the all-too-fresh grief of my own loss, and I silently cursed myself for the hot tears that stung my eyes, threatening to spill over. Don't cry, don't cry, they already think you're a weirdo, if you cry now you'll just remove all doubt that you are, in fact, a massive weirdo.
"Grayson." He responded, gruffly. "Well met."
"It's nice to meet you, Grayson." I replied, the uncomfortable lump of emotion in my throat squeezing my voice out in a strangled whisper. I cleared my throat with a very unattractive grunt and shook my head. "Ah, sorry. The…ah, smoke…from the fire…I'm just a little hoarse. And I see you too have a little horse." I grinned, gesturing to the massive Mabari hound by his side. Alistair laughed, appreciatively, and Cousland flashed me the ghost of a smile.
"This is Kahn. Say hello." He instructed the dog, who barked loudly, wagging his tail. I patted his head and he whined, like an over-excited Labrador.
"Alistair, take Lauren to the armoury." Duncan ordered. "When you're done there, meet us back here as soon as you can. We do not have many hours of daylight left, and your venture into the Wilds cannot wait."
"Very well. This way." Alistair said, cheerfully, striding off in the direction from which he came. I jogged to keep up in my fabulously inappropriate shoes and was already halfway across the clearing in the main camp before I caught up.
"Short strides, if you please. These shoes weren't designed for running in." I said, gesturing to my massive heels. He stopped in his tracks and looked me up and down.
"What were they designed for?" He asked, in confusion. I rolled my eyes.
"I can't keep having this conversation today. Does nobody in Ferelden have taste? Look at them. They are divine. Just not very…practical."
"And…the dress?" He asked, obviously amused.
"What? The dress is nice." I said, defensively.
"It's a very nice dress." He agreed, nodding. "But you're not exactly dressed for the occasion."
"Yes, well, coming to Ostagar and being recruited by the Grey Wardens wasn't what I had planned when I picked this outfit." I explained as we started walking again. "That's why we're going to the armoury, genius."
"What did you have planned?" He asked, curiously, examining my face as walked. I shook my head.
"That's a long story." I replied, softly.
"I've got time." He grinned. I frowned up at him.
"No, you really don't. Your venture into the Wilds cannot wait!" I mimicked Duncan, rather well, I thought, and Alistair chuckled.
"Good point, well made. And here we are, anyway." He gestured to a sizeable collection of chests surrounding a large, burly man sweating over an anvil. The man looked up as we approached.
"Hail, Alistair! And…" His gaze fell to me and confusion furrowed his brow as he looked to Alistair for enlightenment.
"This, my good man, is Lauren. She's our latest recruit and, as you can see, is somewhat lacking in the armour department. Do you have any child-size armour that will fit her?" He asked, his face so dead-pan that, if I didn't know him so well, I might not have realised he was being facetious.
"Ha ha. You're a funny man, Alistair." I drawled, with equal facetiousness.
"Come with me, messere. I'll get you sorted, alright." The man smiled, his friendly, weather-beaten face crinkling pleasantly around the edges of his eyes and mouth.
A few minutes later, I emerged from behind the make-shift screen that had been provided for me to change behind, my dress and shoes discarded unceremoniously into my handbag which, in turn, had been shoved into the bottom of a large woven rucksack. I caught my reflection in a large, bronze shield and grinned, slowly. I thought I looked pretty good, with my leather greaves and gauntlets, thick leather, steel-toed boots, and splint-mail armour. I turned to Alistair, who was slow-clapping.
"Muuuuch better." He said, with a smile. "Now you might not die instantly."
I bowed, deeply.
"Thank you, kind sir! Your confidence in me is simply inspiring!" I rose from my bow and looked down at my armour and then over at Alistair. "Hey, look at us! We're kind of matching. It's clearly a sign that this is the beginning of a firm friendship."
He chuckled, shaking his head as I "oohed" and zipped over to a chest containing lots of shiny weapons. I picked up a short-sword and a leather holster fixed with small, silver daggers.
"How much for these?" I asked the blacksmith, fully aware that I had no money, but hoping I might have something in my handbag that I could trade. An iPhone? It wasn't worth shit in this world, but he might like it, I thought. It's shiny, and the holographic Batman cover's pretty cool. He shook his head.
"No charge. Duncan is an old friend, and I owe him a favour or two." I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"Wow. Duncan really gets around. Thank you!" I smiled, gratefully, slinging the short-sword around my left shoulder so that the blades of my swords crossed across my back, and fastened the dagger holster around my thigh. I turned to Alistair, who shouldered my new rucksack. "Well, shall we head back to Duncan, then?"
"In a moment, you just need one more thing." He strode over to one of the chests and turned around, holding the most hideous helmet ever forged by man or beast. I shook my head, slowly.
"Oh, no."
"Oh, yes." He grinned, walking over to me, holding the helmet out for me to take. I regarded it with a look of disgust.
"I'm not putting that on." I said.
"Oh, yes, you are." He insisted, pulling it over my head before I could stop him. The brim of the helmet came down past my eyebrows and I blinked up at him.
"I look like an idiot." I complained.
"Ah, but you don't. See, only very clever people wear helmets. It protects the brain." He knocked on the side of the helmet to demonstrate his point.
"Stop that."
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
"See? Aren't you glad you were wearing a helmet?"
"Oh, great. Our guide and mentor is a moron." I grinned to show him I was joking and he clutched a hand to his heart, pretending to be wounded. "Seriously, Alistair, I'm not wearing this. It…obscures my vision and stuff."
"And stuff. Seriously, Lauren, you are. I promise that before the end of today, it will prove itself useful." The sincerity in his face broke my resolve and I sighed in defeat.
"Fine! You win. I'll wear the stupid helmet. Happy?" I huffed, adjusting it slightly so that I could at least see where I was going.
"Delighted! Well, now you look like a proper warrior, we should head back to Duncan and the others. The Wilds await!"
AN: See? I told you I'd be better with the updating. I never break a pinkie promise. Please review! I really appreciate your feedback, and am always open to constructive criticism. There's no better forum for getting great feedback on your writing than from all you wonderful writers! I'm unsure whether or not to keep up the diary entries, but I quite like that format for getting into the mind-set of the protagonist. And it always provides the opportunity for one of the companions to find out some of Lauren's secrets in later chapters. Let me know what you think, and I'll take all of your comments on board for the next chapters.
Pinkie. Promise.