Chapter 3

As soon as everyone had left, Emma quickly pulled off the t-shirt and grabbed the leather trousers. She had them up to her knees when the tent flap was pulled open.
"Duncan, we've... oh!"
Emma spun, her legs tangled in the pants and she started falling. A strong pair of hands caught her and she looked up into a face framed by black hair and eyes of such a dark blue that she could be forgiven for thinking she was looking into the deepest depths of the Indian Ocean.

"Are you okay?" His low-pitched voice had a throaty quality that sent a shiver down her spine. Somehow, she managed to get her head to make a nodding motion. He smiled, and Emma damn near swallowed her tongue. Who was this guy? She certainly hadn't seen him in the game; there was no way she would have forgotten someone so damn sexy. It suddenly occurred to her that neither of them had moved, and she was very conscious that he had one hand resting against her bra strap and the other holding her ass.

"I... er... I should finish getting dressed." She indicated her trousers, which had now slipped down to her ankles. He cleared his throat, stepping back as he answered. "Right, sorry."
Emma wanted to tell him he had nothing to apologise for. In fact, she wanted to tell him to grab her again but decided that might be a bit forward. "I think Duncan was heading to the bonfire," she prompted when he showed no sign of leaving the tent.
"Good... right. I'll head over there then." He shook his head a little before exiting. Emma fervently hoped he wasn't just some random NPC who she'd never see again.

Once dressed, she looked down at herself and was pleased to see that the dark green tunic suited her colouring, and probably enhanced her pale green eyes. The black leather trousers were tucked into knee-length boots that seemed to mould to her calves. Emma could see why leather fetishes were so popular; she'd always felt an affinity with Zevran for his love of leather, though she was more partial to the feel of it than the smell. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if the dream would last long enough for her to meet the Antivan assassin; that sexy accent of his made her go weak at the knees. She stepped out of the tent and spotted Wynne a few feet away. "Ah, Emma, a much better outfit. Though perhaps robes would be more suitable?"

"Er... no, I'm not very good in dresses." Just the thought made Emma break out in a cold sweat; the Circle robes were hideous, and really, how did they fight in those things? However, if she could get her hands on a Chasind Robe or the Robe of the Witch, she might be tempted as they were very sexy.
Wynne chuckled. "As you wish child." She held out a heavy-looking silver staff topped with two dragon heads. "Here, you'll be needing this."
Emma hesitantly reached for it thinking that perhaps she could hit darkspawn on the head if all else failed. As her hands closed around the grip, a crystal, held between the mouths of the two dragons, suddenly glowed a bright white.

"How the hell did that happen?" Her eyes widened as a tingling started in her hand and rapidly spread throughout her body.
"It's adjusting to your magic. Surely, even as an apostate, you are aware of this?"
Emma glanced from the staff to Wynne, then back to the staff. The tingling was now a rather pleasant undercurrent running through her blood. "Of course, it just threw me for a moment."
"Well, you'd better be off. I'm sure Duncan is waiting to get started."

A fresh wave of fear made her knees tremble. It was all very well fighting darkspawn while sitting in a comfortable armchair and drinking coffee, but this... this felt all too real. Taking a deep breath, and leaning on the staff to keep herself upright, she thanked Wynne and turned towards the bonfire.
"Oh wait!"
Emma turned to Wynne, hoping she'd been given a reprieve. "I forgot, you'll need this to tie back your hair. Nothing worse than fighting when your hair is in your eyes."

Unfortunately, Emma had no problem at all picturing things worse than that; being eaten by darkspawn topping the list. However, she gratefully accepted the leather tie with a word of thanks.

Emma pulled her hair into a ponytail as she approached the bonfire and smiled upon spotting the sexy stranger. Well, things were starting to look up now. A thought suddenly occurred to her; surely that wasn't Daveth? He certainly didn't look like that in the game, and if that was the case, he would be dead soon. However, as she joined the group she recognised Daveth. Alongside him was Jory, then Mr Tall, Dark and Sexy, and... oh fuck! Alistair! It was actually Alistair, standing not more than fifty yards away.

Duncan acknowledged her arrival with a nod and addressed the group. "Now that you're all here, we can proceed."
She managed to pull her gaze away from Alistair and saw tall, dark and gorgeous smiling at her. She was starting to feel a bit warm; all these good-looking guys were having a powerful effect on her libido. Or perhaps she was standing too close to the fire. Yeah, that sounded a little less pathetic.

"I suppose with so many new recruits, it would be best to start with introductions. You all know Alistair." Duncan stopped, turning towards Emma. "Ah, except for you. Alistair is a Grey Warden and will accompany you on this test." Emma managed a wave and a smile before ducking her head to hide her flushed cheeks. She stared at her feet, trying to get her colour back under control, then her head snapped up as the next name was announced. "The other recruits are Aedan, Daveth, and Ser Jory."

Aedan? Who the hell was Aedan when he was at home? She chased the name around her brain, trying to figure out where he stood in relation to the game. Then it hit her. "Cousland!" Of course! The male noble origin story. Well, damn, she'd never been able to make him look that good in the character creator.

"Something you want to share, Emma?" Duncan's firm voice pulled her from her reverie.
Shit! She needed to stop blurting things out. "No, sorry for interrupting." Her gaze moved over to Aedan, who met it with questioning eyes. She tuned out for the rest of the conversation; get vials of darkspawn blood, get the treaties, blah, blah, blah. The treaties! That meant Morrigan! Emma rubbed a hand over her face - that woman could try the patience of a saint.

Each game always ended with her Warden becoming quite friendly with Morrigan, but that didn't change the fact that she was a rude bitch in the beginning. Emma shoved the thoughts aside to concentrate on the real problem. How the hell was she supposed to use magic when she wasn't a mage? True, the crystal had flared briefly when she'd touched the staff, but that in no way made her capable of casting spells. Did they even cast spells? Did they mutter some words under their breath, or was it just something they called forth without the muttering?

So many questions, and no bloody answers! Emma tried a bit of muttering. "Come forth spells of ice, and freeze these dark creatures!" She waited with bated breath, but nothing happened; there wasn't even a cold mist.

It was painfully obvious that she was well and truly screwed, and not in a good way. Okay, back to plan B; hit everything over the head with the staff.