3 comments/ 2339 views/ 11 favorites Child of the Circle Ch. 01 By: Oriyon This is a fan fic based on the Dragon Age series. But the story can still be enjoyed even if you are not familiar with the series. Thanks for reading! ***** Medeis Amell squinted as she stepped outside, pausing momentarily as her eyes adjusted to the late afternoon sunlight. "Are you ready to depart?" A sonorous voice from behind her asked. She turned to the source of the deep timbre and nodded quickly, trying to look more confident than she felt, "Yes ser, I am ready." "Very well," Duncan replied. She followed his steps as she took in the peaceful pastoral scene around her. Looking about her like a bird who had finally been released from its cage. Walking down the idyllic path from the tower steps to a small dock by the lake, she silently waited as he spoke to a man who stood by a small boat. She turned around and tilted her head up and gazed at the majestic sight of Kinloch Hold, Circle Tower, home to Fereldan's Circle of Magi. Once my home, she thought somewhat bitterly, and my prison. She turned back to the two men to find them looking at her expectantly. "Milady," the ferry man inclined his head politely, "whenever you're ready." She looked at Duncan and he nodded his assurance. She walked over to the man and gratefully accepted his extended hand as he helped her into the small row boat. Duncan joined her as she settled in and once again took in the scene about her dazedly. The tower sat on an island in the middle of Lake Calenhad, its deep azure waters steeped in legend. For millennia the Tevinter mages believed that the lake was blessed, granting those who drank from it special insight. Thus they had built the great tower upon the island, surrounded by the waters that they had hoped would further their magical research. For most Fereldans however, they related the lake to the legend of Calenhad the Great, the first king of Fereldan. Who had spent a year and a day at the Circle Tower, bringing up a cup of water from the lake to the mages who by magic formed a ring from it that would become a link in the king's armor. When the mail was assembled, strengthened from the lifeblood of Fereldan itself, it was said to give way to no blade, never to be pierced by an arrow so long as it remained on its native soil. She gazed at the tower, remembering the first time she saw it so many years ago. In her childish fancy she had thought it was a grand palace. Who would have ever thought that she would leave it? Under the wing of the commander of the fabled Grey Wardens no less. She surreptiously glanced at her new mentor. Duncan was an older man. He had long, thick black hair that was greying at his temples. It was tied away from his face to give way to piercing dark brown eyes framed under thick black eyebrows. His entire jawline was graced by a regal black beard that covered most of his face. His body was muscular, and he wore his armor as though it were a second skin. His look would have been fearsome if not for his gentle demeanor. His movements were executed with a grace and ease that she could only describe as feline. Yes, she thought warily, a great big cat that could rip your throat out if you so much as looked at it. However she was not afraid. Ever since meeting Duncan, he had been nothing but kind and sincere. Spending almost all of her life under the intense scrutiny of the Chantry's templars, she had learned the importance of kindness and sincerity. And loyalty, or lack thereof, she thought bitterly, furiously blinking back the hot, angry tears just starting to sting her eyes as she thought about how she had been betrayed. "'Ere we are now," the ferry man boomed cheerfully as the boat reached the shore. He jumped out quickly, securing the boat to the dock. He extended his hand out once again, helping her out of the boat. "Thank you ser," She replied waiting as Duncan disembarked. "Ah," the ferry man laughed, "no ser 'ere, milady. Kester's the name." "Oh," she smiled sheepishly, "um, thank you Kester." "You're very welcome milady," Kester grinned as he winked and bowed. Although Kester was a much older man, her face burned at the man's innocent gesture, flattered by the attention. This was one of the few times in her life that she was grateful for her dark skin, since it hid the flattered flush that swept across her face. "Come Medeis," Duncan said, nodding his farewell to Kester. Following her mentor, she surveyed the land about her as they moved further inland. They approached some wooden buildings that were nestled some distance away from the shoreline, next to the ruins of a massive bridge that had once connected the Circle Tower to the Imperial Highway. Her stomach suddenly grumbled loudly as the smell of roasting meat wafted into her nose. "Sorry," she muttered sheepishly as she rubbed her middle. "I haven't had much to eat since this morning. Actually, not since the night before, come to think of it." "Of course," Duncan replied, remembering the chaotic events that had transpired earlier that day, "There is an inn, the Spoiled Princess, I believe it is called. We may as well rest there, we will have an early start tomorrow." "Thank you!" She gushed, her voice leaving her in a relieved whoosh as she slumped against her staff. Quickly regaining herself she briskly hurried after him, not wanting her hungry belly to be denied any longer. He chuckled at his young, reinvigorated charge. Glad to see that the enthusiasm he had encountered when they were first introduced in the tower had returned. He had intended to extend an offer to her to join the Grey Wardens the day of his planned departure. But circumstances had forced him to cut his visit short. He had to use his authority to conscript Medeis, much to the fury of the tower's templar Knight Commander Greagoir. Who had tried to go so far as to bar Duncan from invoking the Right of Conscription, protesting that he was rewarding her for her crimes. However Duncan understood the reasons for her actions. Perhaps they were misguided, but she had risked her status as a newly Harrowed mage, and her very life, to protect her friends from an alleged injustice. Such courage and tenacity were needed in the ranks of the Grey Wardens in order to fight the Blight that was to come. But for now, he observed, as she shuffled nervously to his side, withering slightly under the gaze of some patrons leaving the inn. Her courage would be needed to regain her bearings and learn to interact with the outside world. Long ago, before the establishment of the Chantry, the Tevinter Imperium had ruled over Thedas. The source of their power was magic, and the ones who held positions of power were those who could wield and control it. Mages. When the Chantry took over Thedas as the dominant force after the fall of the Imperium. It had established the Circle of Magi throughout the continent to regulate the use and study of magic. Its aim was to prevent those endowed with magical talents from abusing their gifts, like the mages of the Tevinter Imperium. The Templar Order was then created to apprehend and try any mages who had refused to bend to the will of the Chantry. Because of the widespread abuse of magic by the hands of the magisters of the Tevinter Imperium. Magic, and those with the talent to wield it, were forever afterwards viewed with deep suspicion and hostility. Thus the Chantry had enacted an edict; Any and all who had showed to have magical abilities, must be sent away to the Circle of Magi to study and perfect their skills. The Circle would become a prison, as much as a refuge, to the mages all over Thedas. Consequently, many would spend most, if not all, their lives in the Circle. Never again to associate with the outside world. Duncan placed his hand on Medeis's shoulder, squeezing it gently to reassure her as he guided her into the inn. When his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, he lead her to a table in the corner, motioning her to sit on the bench before her. Once she sat down, he sat across from her, his back to the wall. His eyes searched the rest of the room, vigilant of his surroundings. He watched her as her fingers nervously pleated the sleeve of her robe. He reached across the table and squeezed her hands gently, but firmly, to stop the show of nerves. "Rest easy child, I promise no harm shall come to you under my care." "I do not doubt that ser," Medeis sighed as her hands were stilled. She chewed at her bottom lip fretfully as she looked around about the room, "it's just that I'm not used to being watched like this." Duncan's eyebrow shot up in amusement as he asked gently, "Did you not spend almost your entire life, up until now, under the scrutiny of templars?" "That was different!" She huffed loudly, temporarily forgetting her nervousness. He chuckled, amazed. "Is that so? They seemed to watch you mages as though you would become abominations at any moment." Medeis snorted with derision, "True, but these people," subtly motioning about the room, "most likely do not even know what an abomination is. They are probably more frightened that I will burn this place down with a flick of my wrist." Grandly waving her hand about with an elegant flourish. Sure enough, he noticed some of the patrons and even some of the staff wincing slightly, as though they had been struck. "That is enough Medeis." "Sorry." She muttered as she slumped like a chastised child. She petulantly folded her arms across her chest. "It is just the way these people watch me, like I am some sort of freak of nature. And it is not just because I am a mage." He sighed and felt his heart go out to his charge as he immediately understood her apprehension. Her being a mage in itself was not all that unusual, they were across the lake from the Circle Tower after all. But her appearance, at least in this part of the world, was not common, to say the least. While most of the people of Fereldan were of fair complexion, she was the exact opposite. Her skin was the color of mahogany. Her hair was black and wavy, tightly pulled back and tied neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dark doe eyes were fringed with long, curly eyelashes that rested under gently arched eyebrows. Her lips were full, with the lower lip tinged a slightly dusky pink. She was about two hand widths shorter than the average Fereldan. Yet her figure was pleasant enough, with wider hips and a fuller bottom. He knew all too well though that others would think her appearance to be strange, merely because of the color of her skin. Throughout most of his life, he had travelled much of the world and had seen many peoples. Therefore he was not taken aback by her looks. He had found that many of those with her coloring lived in Rivain, Orlais and Antiva. He had even seen some here in Fereldan, whilst in the cities of Denerim and Amaranthine, but never out here in the countryside. When he had met her in the tower, she moved about with an air of quiet confidence. But now, that aura had completely dissipated, only to be replaced by anxiety and fear. He eyed the serving girl warily as she hesitantly approached their table. "W-what would you like?" The serving girl asked, desperately clutching her serving tray as she dipped a slight curtsy. He cringed inwardly at the girl's trepidation. He answered for the both of them, "We'll have the stew and two tankards of mead, will that be alright?" Looking at Medeis for confirmation, who meekly nodded her assent. "At once ser," the serving girl replied with a hasty bow and an anxious look towards Medeis retreated quickly into the kitchen. "See?" She mumbled as she jerked her head to the fleeing girl. "That may be," He agreed, "but as long as they don't threaten or molest you in any way, why should it be of concern to you?" She opened her mouth to reply, but frowned suddenly and closed it when no logical answer came to mind. "I will not lie and say that the world is easy for those who are different," he began, "but you know as well as I, from where such ignorance stems from." "I know, I know," She sighed, easing her arms onto the table, "prejudice stems from the fear of the unknown." "And from the fear of being unable to control the unknown." She gazed at him in thoughtful silence. "You too have been treated with suspicion?" She asked, although her tone implied that it was a statement, rather than a question. "Indeed I have. But I can only imagine what you must be going through right now. It is not easy to adjust to being out in the world when you have been locked away from it for so long." "I will cope." She replied stiffly, suddenly feeling defensive. "I do not need your pity." "I did not mean to offend you," he replied mildly. "But you need to know that although you will encounter much hostility because of what you are, know that there are those who will also value and embrace you for it." "Such as the Commander of the Grey Wardens." She said with a wry smile, relaxing a little. "Indeed," he chuckled. "Believe me, there is just as much good in the world as there is evil. However, it is difficult to find it when you are looking at the world through embittered eyes." "I get it, I get it," she sighed, waving her hands in surrender, "I need to have a thicker skin and not be so sensitive." He simply smiled. "But you cannot fault me for being cautious." "Not at all," he conceded. "It would be foolish for you to be otherwise. After all," his eyes twinkled mischievously, "we would not want any of this," mimicking her earlier flouncing hand gesture, "to occur." She immediately burst out laughing at his silly imitation, drawing almost all eyes in the room on her. She covered her mouth sheepishly, although some quiet snorts of mirth still escaped her. As her laughter died down, her expression grew somber after a quiet moment of reflection, she sighed. "I apologize Duncan. Here I am complaining about being gawked at when I should be thanking you. You saved me from a horrible situation caused in part to my own stupidity. Were it not for you, I would've been taken to Aeonar by now." Aeonar was the infamous mage's prison. It's location known only to a few templars. A shudder ran through her as she thought of what might have been. "Misguided, yes." He admitted. "You could not have expected that your friend would deceive you so." "I certainly did not!" She agreed bitterly. She remembered the scene back at the tower as it played before her mind's eye. "When the templars came, and he cast that spell." She shook her head, "I still cannot believe how powerful it was. It knocked out everyone, Duncan. Everyone! And to think, that was cast by an apprentice! To be able to wield magic that powerful so quickly," she looked down as she murmured quietly, "it almost makes me wish I had that kind of power." "Be careful what you wish for, Medeis." He warned. "Power, in any form, magical or otherwise, is treacherous. I have seen many people, great leaders, consumed by it." "I know Duncan," she sighed with a rueful smile. "History is filled with examples of what happened to those obsessed with power. If he hadn't been meddling with that kind of magic he wouldn't have gotten into so much trouble in the first place." "Learn from those mistakes Medeis, then move forward. It will not serve you to continue to dwell on the mistakes of the past." "Yes ser," she replied, as she felt the weight of her guilt ease a little. Finally, the serving girl returned with their food and drink before beating another hasty retreat. Medeis's nose wrinkled delicately as she tentatively sipped her mead. "Not quite like the Circle's, I take it?" He teased. "Oh no it's not that!" She cried, not wanting appear ungrateful. She then slumped as she muttered in guilt, "Well, maybe a little, I guess." He chuckled as he started to eat, "No need to worry, Medeis. I have sampled enough at the tower to know that the Tranquil mages there brew more than just potions. They are alchemical wonders." "Truly?" Her brow lifted in surprise as she ripped off a chunk of bread to dip into her stew. "I thought the Tranquil's brews were made to simply save the Circle the expense of having to order any from the outside. I didn't think that they would actually be that good. Not that I had anything to compare it to." Needs more salt, she mused as she ate her stew soaked bread. "So, where are we headed?" "We'll be going south, to Ostagar. It is a fortress that was built at the edge of the Korcari Wilds by the Imperium to keep the barbarian Wilders out of Fereldan. There are reports that the source of the attacks were stemming from the Wilds. The bulk of the Darkspawn horde will be there, and it will be the best position for our forces to defend against them." "I heard some of the senior enchanters went there to help. Are there any other mages amongst your forces?" "The Circle sent all of seven mages to Ostagar." He replied grimly. Her mouth dropped. "Only seven mages? Why so few?" "I believe Commander Greagoir may have had something to do with that." "Hmph." She grunted contemptuously and took a swallow of mead. "Was that what he and Enchanter Irving were arguing about when I came in?" She recounted the scene when she was summoned to First Enchanter Irving's office that morning. "Yes it was," Duncan admitted. "And I must say that I agree with the First Enchanter. The commander seems to be afraid of allowing so many mages to go because they would be free to unleash the full extent of their Maker-given powers." "And that the templars would be unable to control them." She finished, disgusted. "I sometimes wonder if the Chantry's many laws regarding magic are even necessary." Duncan sighed, shaking his head. "Darkspawn are a greater threat than blood mages, apostates or even abominations. It takes decades for the world to recover from a Blight." "Blight?" She spluttered trying not to choke on her stew as her eyes grew as wide as saucers. "You mean to say that you think this is a Blight? I thought it was just a large horde! Weren't the Darkspawn all but wiped out after the last Blight in the Exalted Age?" "Yes, but not quite. As a result they have had centuries to rebuild their numbers." "But what about the Archdemon? Has it been sighted? Without one there is nothing to unify the Darkspawn to start a Blight. Despite the number of attacks that have been reported, without the appearance of an Archdemon everyone will just think this to be an unusually large swarm." "Very true," he answered, impressed. There were few outside of the Grey Wardens or the dwarves who were as knowledgeable about the Darkspawn. "However, simply because an Archdemon has not been seen it does not mean there is not one out there controlling the horde." "And just how do you know that the horde is being controlled if it hasn't been spotted?" "Call it a feeling." He answered cryptically. Her brow furrowed immediately and she narrowed her eyes. Clearly there was more to this than he was letting on. In the short time she had known Duncan, he did not seem like a man who would base anything as serious as the Blight simply on a 'feeling'. "What is it that you are not telling me?" "All in due time." Piercing brown eyes met doe black as they took in each others' measure. "Very well," she relented, conceding defeat. "I see the Circle has done a fine job with your education. You are one of the few I've met outside of the Wardens or dwarves who know even that much about the Darkspawn." "Of course we mages know about all about the Darkspawn," she drawled with a harsh, humorless laugh. "After all, according to the Chantry, we created them." Child of the Circle Ch. 01 "It is said a small number magisters from the Tevinter Imperium caused the rise of the Darkspawn." "That is very kind," she smiled, it then became lopsided as her tone turned sardonic. "But unfortunately it is irrelevant. As far as the Chantry's concerned, we mages and those Imperium magisters are one and the same. It's what the Chantry believes, thus what everyone else believes. After all, the Chantry's word is law." "That is debatable." "Perhaps to the very few who have the sense to question it. But, alas, not the rest of the world. And certainly not to these folk." She replied dryly, jerking her thumb behind her, pointing to the rest of the patrons of the inn. "Will you indulge me, ser? Where do you think the Darkspawn come from?" "As far as we can tell they come from the ground. That is as far as we've gotten." "The Chantry says the same thing; that they were cast down after the Tevinter magisters tore The Veil and trespassed into the Golden City of the Maker." Droning on like a priest, she continued, her voice mockingly solemn: "And so the Golden City blackened The mages had brought sin to Heaven and doom upon all the world Violently were they cast down, for no mortal may walk bodily in the realm of dreams Bearing the mark of their crime with bodies so maimed and distorted that none should see them and know them for men So they fled, deep into the earth, away from the Light In Darkness eternal they searched for those who had goaded them on Until at last they found their prize, their god, their betrayer: the sleeping dragon Dumat Their taint twisted even the false-god, and the whisperer awoke at last, in pain and horror, And led them to wreak havoc upon all the nations of the world: The first Blight." Duncan laughed as he clapped slowly, "The Revered Mother would be most delighted with that recitation of the Chant of Light." "Why thank you, kind ser." Medeis drawled sarcastically. "It pleases me to no end that all those years of religious indoctrination have finally been put good use." "There is some truth to it though. The darkspawn have spent the time in between Blights digging, searching for an old god to taint. However," he warned, "do not be so swayed by those small kernels of truth within the tale to draw to such unseemly conclusions. You mages are not responsible for the transgressions of those few from so long ago." "But yet we still continue to suffer for it! I have spent my entire life locked away in a tower because of it." "Until now." "Yes," she relented, calming herself, "until now, thanks to you. I know this is a rare opportunity and an honor, Duncan, for anyone. Let alone a screw-up like me. Despite everything, please believe me when I say I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have gone through a lot of trouble for me when anyone else would have turned the other way." "If anyone else had turned away they would have been a fool." He stated firmly. "You do not give yourself enough credit. I have only known you for one day, yet I have seen that you possess the wisdom and courage of those far beyond your years, mage or no. Your magical abilities are said to be considerable. First Enchanter Irving has said as much. He told me about your Harrowing. He said the time it took you to complete it was nothing short of remarkable. I had even heard some of templars say they had not seen one done as quickly as yours." She smiled shyly, her whole body burned immensely with gratitude. "I um, heh, well I um . . . what I mean is, um-" "You're welcome Medeis." He grinned. "You're welcome?" She asked, flustered. Her hands flying to her face, "Oh I mean thank you!" She gushed, her face burning hotter than ever. "Truly, Duncan. Thank you, for everything, I mean it. I hope someday I will be worthy of such praise." He reached over, squeezed her hand and said in the most gentle of tones, "You already are." "Thank you, you are far too kind." She replied sincerely, her eyes shining. "So," she began brightly, changing the subject, "although I have some knowledge about the Darkspawn. I'm afraid to say I don't know much about the Grey Wardens. Other than they are known as heroes who vanquish the Darkspawn and have ended the Blights of centuries past." He chuckled lightly at the description. "I would not go so far as to say that. But we will do whatever is necessary to stop the Darkspawn threat." "Are there many Grey Wardens?" "Our numbers in Fereldan are few. There are many more scattered throughout Thedas however. We have outposts in almost every nation. Our headquarters is at Weisshaupt Fortress, in the Anderfels." "Why are there so few in Fereldan?" "It has only been recently that we have been allowed to return. Our order was once banished from Fereldan long ago." "Why were the Grey Wardens banished?" "To be honest, I am not too sure myself. It happened almost two centuries ago. All that had been gathered was that the Grey Wardens were accused of being involved in some sort of plot to overthrow the king. The order was banished from Fereldan as a result." "So when were the Wardens allowed back into Fereldan?" "A few years after the end of the Orlesian occupation, when King Maric took the throne. He welcomed the Wardens back and reinstated the Right of Conscription. Unfortunately we have not welcomed back by everyone with open arms." "Why not?" "We are still viewed by some as foreign agents trying to reestablish Orlais' rule. I and some of the other Wardens here came from the order in Orlais to reestablish the Wardens in Fereldan." "Which is why you are looked at with suspicion?" "Precisely. Although we have been able to gain some Fereldan recruits here and there, we have had to be cautious with our recruiting." "Why not use the Right of Conscription? With all these Darkspawn attacks and the coming Blight, certainly the people would understand why the Wardens would need to increase their numbers." "I cannot invoke the right too often, lest I risk hurting our cause. You saw how difficult it was to recruit you. I doubt I will be welcomed back to the Circle Tower anytime soon." Her head fell immediately at this. "I am so sorry. I have caused you so much trouble. Perhaps," she sucked in her breath, "perhaps it is best if you just took me back to the tower." "Absolutely not." She jumped at the force of his quiet refusal. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the fierce expression on his face. "I do not have a moment's regret for what I have done." His voice was calm, but it belied the strength beneath it. "I stand by my decision, Medeis. Even if you doubt it." "I don't doubt you Duncan," She said meekly. "It's just that, because of me the tower is closed off to you." "Then so be it." He shrugged. "It was well worth the cost. I have no doubt that I procured one of their most promising mages." Her eyes pricked with tears, this time she was unable to hold them back as they slid down her cheeks. His eyes softened immediately as he took her hands to his own, "I did not mean to upset you." "That's not it, at all." She sniffled quietly. "It's just . . . How do I? . . . I owe you so much. You don't know how much this means to me." "You owe me nothing child. You have been given an opportunity, you owe it to yourself to make the most of it." "Yes ser," she smiled tremulously, despite her tears. "And I will. Just you watch," she promised, squeezing his hands. "I will make you proud Duncan." "Of that," he smiled earnestly, "I have no doubt." "Look at me," she cringed, wiping away her tears, "I'm such a mess." "You've had a trying day, to say the very least." Duncan said in the gentlest of tones. "Sometimes a good cry is what needed." "Ugh!" She groaned, wiping away the last remnants of tears, "not if it has me looking like a blithering fool!" He chuckled lightly. "Finish your food, I will go see to get us some rooms for the night." With that he rose from his seat and walked over to the barkeep. She complied, polishing off the remnants of stew. Life is strange, she mused, draining the last of her mead, this morning I was to get a room of my own in the tower, now I am travelling with a Grey Warden! "Begging your pardon milady," the serving girl returned suddenly, causing Medeis to jump. "Oh! Um, can I help you?" "This is for you," the serving girl replied, setting a simple chalice filled with a dark liquid down before her. "It's plum wine, compliments of those men." She pointed across the way. She followed the girl's finger over to a group of three men. They were dressed in what appeared to be worn leather armor. They grinned at her lasciviously. "Oh," Medeis replied innocently, giving a small wave at the men and smiled, "that is very kind of them. Tell them I say thank you." The serving girl seemed to hesitate, "Um, milady, you might not want to do that." Medeis frowned at her, "Why not? Should I not acknowledge their courtesy?" "Men like that aren't known for being courteous or kind." "So why bring me the drink then?" "It's my job milady." The serving girl hissed, her eyes pleading. "Eh wench," one of the men boomed raucously from behind the serving girl, causing her to jump with a squeak, "another round of ales." "Yes ser." The girl muttered, leaving Medeis alone with a warning look. "So, pretty one," the man leered as he and the other two men sauntered over. They sat with her at the table, "do you like our gift?" "Uh, why yes. Thank you." Medeis said. "So glad that you like it." The man said, leaning in too close. He put an arm around her shoulders. "How about we take this elsewhere?" She cringed, inching away from him, "I think not. The gift was appreciated. But I must go, my mentor-" she rose from the bench but the man grabbed her wrist and yanked her back down. She yelped from shock of the sudden move. "And just where do you think you're going?" The man leaned in, he and his friends were chuckling nastily, "You need to give us a proper thank you for our gift." "Get your hands off me!" She roared. With her free hand she shot a wave of energy through it that hit the man, blasting him clean off the bench and crashing into an empty table and chairs with a groan. "You little dark bitch!" His friend spat as he and the other man jumped from their seats, unsheathing their swords. But she had already gotten up as well, staff in hand, ready to strike. "I told you to leave me alone! Don't take one step closer, I mean it!" From the corner of her eye she saw the first man clamouring back up to his feet. Just as she was about to blast him again a chair sailed from across the floor, knocking him clean off his feet. He landed with a dull thud, out cold. The two men lunged at Medeis, thinking she was distracted. She swiftly struck her staff down and a blast of energy burst from it. Sending the men flying back into the wall, knocking their swords clean from their hands and knocking them out senseless as they crashed to the floor. Duncan quickly strode in from the direction of the chair. Although he still wore the same calm expression, the aura of fury emanating from him was palpable. "Are you hurt?" "N-n-no," Medeis stammered. She looked behind her and saw the patrons standing, staring at her, horrified. Their accusing stares stabbed at her like daggers. They terrified her more than the men. "I-I'm sorry," she gasped hoarsely, her eyes suddenly blinded by tears. "He grabbed me and I just wanted them leave me alone. I-" "Medeis, listen to me." Duncan he quietly ordered. He gently grasped her shoulders. He tipped her chin up to him, forcing her to look at him, "Do not apologize, you have done nothing wrong." She tried to calm herself with a deep breath, but it came out as a choking sob. She looked over at the patrons, all she saw was their silent condemnation. Her hand flew over her mouth, covering the whimper that was about to slip pass her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. But they flowed nonetheless, streaming down her cheeks. Duncan pulled her into his arms, she slackened gratefully into him. Her body wracked with sobs as she cried quietly. He rubbed her back while he murmured quiet words of comfort. They stood there for what seemed like ages as she sobbed brokenly, her head rested against his chest. She pulled her head back when she heard rapid footsteps approaching and saw several templars hurrying over to them. "Oh no!" She moaned weakly, shrinking into Duncan, tightly grasping his waist. "They've come to take me away!" "They're not here for you." "What?" She looked up and gasped, to her surprise they walked right past her. Not even giving her a second glance as they went to take the men away. "M-Medeis?" She jumped, startled. She whirled to the source of the quiet, hesitant voice and looked up into a pair of light brown eyes. "Cullen? What are you doing here?" "W-we were summoned to take these men away and hold them until the local authorities arrive." The young templar replied. He shifted nervously, running a hand over his thick blond hair. "A-are you alright? Did they hurt you?" Duncan's brow lifted but said nothing, highly curious. "No," She answered, shaking her head as she sniffled away her remaining sobs and wiped away the last of her tears. "They tried to attack me, but I repelled them. I'm fine now, thank you." "Good, I'm, um, glad you're alright." "Thank you Cullen," she replied smiling brightly, touched by his thoughtfulness. A deep blush swept the handsome templar's face as he looked away, grinning sheepishly. "Well," he said, clearing his throat. He looked back at the unconscious men, "It looks like you gave them a good thrashing." She shrugged, "I just wanted them to leave me alone. But they forced the issue, so I defended myself." "You always were so confident," he replied, awed. He then uttered quickly, "Or so I've heard." One of the other templars called out to Cullen. He looked over and nodded, then turned back to her. "I, uh, need to go now. Um, I, uh, wish you all the best, with the Grey Wardens. Goodbye Medeis, Maker watch over you." "Goodbye Cullen, Maker watch over you." He gazed at her longingly for a moment, then bowed his head and walked away. "Friend of yours?" Duncan asked. Medeis turned back to him and saw a teasing twinkle in his eyes. She narrowed her own suspiciously, "He's one of the newer templars who've arrived at the tower recently. Why?" "I did not realize you had templar friends." Duncan replied mildly as he bit back his smile. "He's a nice man." Medeis shrugged, oblivious to the intent behind Duncan's remark. "But he's always so nervous. I think he's still afraid that I'll turn into an abomination at any moment." Duncan felt a pang of sympathy for the clearly besotted templar. He chuckled at his charge's naïvety. The barkeep approached them, "Your rooms are ready, ser." He handed Duncan the keys. He turned to Medeis, "Are you alright now, child?" "Oh! Yes," She spluttered, surprised at the barkeep's concern. "I'm fine now, thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you and your patrons." The barkeep narrowed his eyes, "You apologize an awful lot for someone who's done nothing wrong." "But-" "But nothing!" The barkeep shushed her. "Those men should've left well enough alone. If I was you I'da burned 'em to a crisp!" "But, that would burn down your establishment!" "True enough," the barkeep mused, "I appreciate your discretion. Now you go get some rest young lady, looks like you'll be needing it." "Thank you for your kindness ser, good night." "G'night milady." Duncan held a protective arm around Medeis as he guided her past the remaining patrons, who had gone back to their tables. She pointedly avoided their stares and huddled into him. She paused at the base of the stairs when she saw the serving girl. "Um excuse me," Medeis called out. The girl turned to her and Medeis hesitantly smiled, "Thank you, for trying to warn me, even though I was too foolish to listen." "Not at all milady," the girl smiled back, "turns out you didn't need it. You held your own against those drunken sops. If I was you I'da burn 'em to a crisp." "What's with people and burning everything?" Medeis asked, aghast. "If I had used a fire spell the inn would've burned to the ground!" "Huh," the girl mused, "good point. Guess that's why you're the mage." "Huh," Medeis echoed, "good point. I thought you were afraid of me?" "I was at first," the girl admitted. "But the more I watched you the more I saw you were just as scared as I was. And when those men started to bother you . . ." She shrugged. "I am Medeis," she offered with a smile, touched by the girl's kindness, "pleased to meet you." "I'm Liya," the girl smiled, "likewise. G'night Medeis." "Good night Liya." Medeis continued up the stairs with Duncan, stopping at the landing. "Ready for bed?" Duncan asked, handing her the her room key. As if on cue, a yawn passed through her, briefly clouding her face. "Mmmhmm," she hummed wearily, fatigue suddenly covering her like a warm blanket. "'Till the morning then." Duncan replied. "Good night ser." She nodded blearily. She unlocked the door and tripped into the room, too tired to note the state of it. She propped her staff next to the bed. She yanked off her robe, kicked off her shoes, then and gratefully sank into bed, slipping underneath the furs. ~~~ Medeis awoke just after first light. She looked around her in a mild panic, wondering where she was before she remembered the events of the day before. "I'm in the Spoiled Princess." She said aloud, dazed. She got out of bed slowly, her adjusting to her surroundings. She leaned over to the nightstand and rinsed her face with the bowl of water left there. She then tugged her robe back on and slipped on her shoes, retying and smoothing her hair back into place. She quickly glanced at the small mirror, satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her staff and walked out the door. Tucking up her skirts, she flitted down the stairs to find Duncan talking to the barkeep. "Ah, good morning," Duncan smiled as she walked up to him, "did you sleep well?" "Yes ser." "Good, come have breakfast. We have much ground to cover." ~~~ "By the shifting skies of the Fade!" Medeis breathed in awe. Looking about, she took in the massive fortress as they drew closer. "It's magnificent!" They had travelled for days and had finally arrived in Ostagar early that morning. "It is indeed," Duncan agreed as he continued walking, unperturbed. "It was built by the Imperium. But not without considerable help from the dwarves. It would not be still standing, if not for them." "Incredible." She murmured, looking all around her. She had studied about the dwarves and their architectural prowess in the Circle. But it was something else entirely to see it with her own eyes. They crossed a giant bridge leading towards the fortress. She saw several soldiers encased in all sorts of armor milling about. She saw banners with all sorts of crests and insignia that she had remembered seeing in books, but could not immediately recall who they belonged to. She noticed the soldiers bow their heads in greeting to Duncan as they walked by, in which he returned with a slight nod. She saw the wary looks they cast her way and unconsciously grasped her staff tighter and nervously shuffled closer to him. "Be easy," Duncan murmured soothingly, placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back. "No one seeks to harm you. They are simply not used to seeing a mage walking about without a templar escort." Child of the Circle Ch. 01 Medeis meekly nodded. "The King's forces have clashed against the Darkspawn several times. But the bulk of the horde will show itself here." "What of the other Wardens, are they here as well?" "All of the Fereldan Wardens are here." "Are any of them mages?" "No, you are the only one." "Are there any mages in the Grey Wardens at all?" "Yes, however they are in other nations." He looked as though he was about to speak further when a shout came from across the way. "Ho there Duncan!" As they stepped off the bridge they were immediately met by a group of impressively armed men. Their leader was a young man with pale shoulder length blond hair, light grey eyes with a faint shadow of a beard gracing his lower jaw. He wore what appeared to be golden armor, bearing the royal crest of Fereldan. This couldn't be, Medeis thought suspiciously- "King Cailin!" Duncan cried, surprised as the man with the golden armor walked up to him, eagerly grasping Duncan's arm. He inwardly chuckled as he heard a startled squeak escape from his charge. "I didn't expect-" "A royal welcome?" Cailin said with a wide, easy smile, "I was beginning to worry you'd miss out on all the fun." "Not if I can help it, your Majesty." "Then I will have the mighty Duncan by my side in battle after all. Glorious!" Cailin uttered triumphantly. "And who is this?" He asked, glancing over Duncan's shoulder to look at Medeis, who desperately tried to shrink behind him. "Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty," Duncan replied, stepping aside so that Cailin could see her fully. "This is one of my new recruits." If she could, Medeis would have willed herself to become invisible. Her face burned so hotly she thought for a brief moment that her skin would melt right off. She unconsciously smoothed a slightly shaky hand over her robe when to her horror, Cailin eagerly stepped up to her. "No need to be so formal Duncan!" He scoffed. "Soon we'll be shedding blood together, after all. Hello there friend, might I know your name?" "My name?" She squeaked. "Of course! My name. Um, I am Medeis, your Majesty." "Pleased to meet you." His eyes sparkled as he smiled down at her graciously. "The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers and I, for one, am glad to help them. I take it you hail from the Circle of Magi? I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?" Medeis blinked. She did not expect to meet the King of Fereldan, and certainly did not expect him to be so welcoming. "Uh, y-yes your Majesty, I am from the Circle. I-I will do my best." "Excellent! We have too few mages, and another is always welcome. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly with you in their ranks." Her mouth dropped open, awestruck. She did not expect to be even acknowledged, let alone receive such an effusive greeting from the king. "You are too kind." She uttered. Quickly remembering herself she then spluttered, "Your Majesty." "I'm afraid to cut this short," Cailin said, turning back to Duncan, "but I am needed in my tent. Logain seeks to bore me with his strategies." "Your uncle Arl Eamon sends his greetings from Redcliffe," Duncan said, "and says he can send his forces within a week." "Hah! He just wants in on the glory!" Cailin drawled. "We've won against these monsters several times and tonight shall be no different." "You seem very confident of that your Majesty." Medeis replied cautiously. Despite her nervousness of being in the presence of royalty, Duncan's increasingly steely resolve put her even more on edge. "Perhaps too confident, some would say, eh Duncan?" Cailin grinned, turning back to him. "I just do not think that the Blight can be stopped as . . . quickly as you wish, your Majesty." He answered evenly. "Well there are certainly plenty of Darkspawn on the field," Cailin said, his brow furrowed. "But, alas, there is no sign of an Archdemon. We don't even know if this is a true Blight." "Disappointed, your Majesty?" Duncan asked. "I just wish that this would be like in the tales of old. The king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens at his side vanquishing the Archdemon. But," Cailin sighed, "this will have to do." Medeis's own brows shot up. Cailin did not seem to take the Darkspawn threat the least bit seriously. This battle just seemed to be another way for him to attain glory. "I should go," Cailin said, unperturbed, "before Logain sends a search party after me. Farewell, Grey Wardens." Duncan and Medeis bowed as Cailin and his men departed. As soon as they were out of earshot, she whirled to Duncan, "Can you believe that? The king just thinks this is another battle to boast about! He doesn't even think the Darkspawn are a real threat!" "True," he replied evenly, his expression grim. He began to walk again, "But he is correct. They have won several battles against the Darkspawn." "Yet you don't seem convinced." She replied, following closely beside him. "The horde grows larger with each passing day. By now they look to outnumber us. I am certain that an Archdemon is behind this." "Why not tell the king then?" Medeis asked. "He seems to hold the Grey Wardens in high regard." "Yet not high enough to wait for the Wardens from Orlais to bolster our numbers." Duncan replied frowning. "There are too few of us here. But he thinks our legend alone makes him invulnerable." "That is rather careless, don't you think?" "Perhaps," Duncan answered evasively, pausing as they approached another bridge. "But we must do what we can and look to Teryn Logain's forces to make up the rest. To that end, you must undergo the Joining ritual." "Joining ritual?" "Yes, I'm afraid so." He replied gravely. "I am sorry that you will have to endure another trial so soon after your Harrowing. But it must be done for you to become a Grey Warden." "Very well." No sense in whining about it, she thought, besides, this Grey Warden ritual will probably be nothing compared to the Harrowing. "What does the ritual entail?" "You will be told when the time comes." He answered in a tone that brooked no question or argument. "Yes ser," She complied. "What would you like me to do until then?" "Feel free to the explore the camp if you wish. I am sure you are hungry and would like a hot meal. All I ask is that you do not leave the camp for the time being. When you are ready, seek out Alistair, he is a Warden. Tell him when you are ready and summon the other recruits. I have some business to attend to. You will find me by the Grey Warden tent should you need me. Our insignia is a white and silver griffin on a blue field." "Yes ser," she answered, bowing her head as Duncan departed. Nervous excitement bubbled through her as she watched him walk along the bridge. This one was not nearly as wide as the first, yet far more elaborate, with imposing Imperium statues lined along either side along the span of the bridge. She looked around her and began to explore the rather large copse that lay between the two bridges. She gazed at the trees and foliage creeping about the ancient walls and walked over to some plants that caught her eye. "Elfroot!" She cried eagerly as she recognized the distinctive elven ear shaped leaves. She yanked out her dagger and swiftly cut the stems. She carefully wrapped the plants in some cloth and placed them in her side bag. These will be good for poultices, she thought, as she then made her way across the bridge. She carefully avoided the curious glances of the soldiers as she walked by. Although Duncan assured her safety, she could not help but worry that any one of these men would try to confront her, since there was no one immediately by her side. Get a hold of yourself woman! She snapped angrily to herself. You are a mage and about to become a Grey Warden! You are a force to be reckoned with! Start acting as such! With that, Medeis drew herself up to her full height, set her shoulders back and relaxed her eyes into a steady gaze. She languidly lengthen her stride, causing her skirts to swirl about her. She held on to her staff firmly as it tapped the ground with each step, ready to strike if necessary. When she approached the other side she was surprised to see that some of the soldiers were in fact women. And attractive ones at that, she thought, bemused. Medeis had seen women templars in the tower from time to time, but they were not nearly as pretty as these soldiers. Mind you, it's hard to look pretty when you look as though you have something permanently shoved up your arse. Her lips curled into a nasty smirk at that thought. She looked around the camp, her eyes once again widening in awe. "This place is huge!" She murmured quietly. "How in the world will I find anyone here?" There were tents everywhere. Many were large and brightly colored, Medeis noticed the banners and noted the crests and insignia. She spotted one banner with a white and silver griffin on a blue field. She saw the large blue tent beneath it, it sat some distance from a large camp fire. That must be the Grey Warden tent, she deduced and made a move toward it but immediately stopped herself. I need to start figuring these things out myself instead of running to Duncan all the time, I'm a grown woman, Medeis thought stubbornly, not a bloody child! She looked to her right and her eyes rested on a banner crest with four sunbursts in it and instantly smiled. The Circle tents! She thought happily and was about to go to them when she saw templars lurking about, her blood ran cold. The memories of her last moments in the tower rushing to the forefront of her mind. She recoiled slightly. She swept her gaze around once again and found a guard standing at the foot of the bridge, looking bored. He seems harmless enough, she mused. She walked over to him, "Um, hello? Hi," she smiled sheepishly as she caught the guard's attention. "I've just arrived and I must admit that I am rather lost. I am supposed to look for a Grey Warden by the name of Alistair, but I haven't the faintest idea where I should go." "You must be the new Grey Warden recruit everyone is talking about." "Come again?" "You. You're the new recruit, are you not? I heard it from the king's men. They said the new Grey Warden recruit was a mage." The guard replied as he looked at her robe, noting the Circle insignia and her staff. "You heard about me that quickly?" "Word gets around pretty quick here." He grinned. "Especially when it comes to the Wardens. They're camped with the king's army at the van." "The van?" Medeis frowned. "What's the van?" "The vanguard," the guard replied, explaining patiently. "The Wardens have been given a place of honor at the front with the king's men and will be riding with him into battle." "Ah. Will Alistair be there?" "Who?" "Alistair, he's one of the Grey Wardens. I was told to meet him with the other recruits." "Oh riiight," the guard drawled slowly as the answer seemed to finally dawn on him. "He's by the old temple clearing. Go past all these tents," he said, pointing ahead of Medeis, "and just to the right of the Chantry's platform, and you'll be at the clearing." "The Chantry's here?" She spat out, barely able to restrain the snarl that tugged at her lips. "Aye." The guard grinned knowingly. "They're here to bless the soldiers before going into battle." "Wonderful." Medeis snarled sarcastically. "At least there are no templars there." "Nooo," she crooned with a humorless smile, "because they are all at the Circle's tents watching the mages." "Right," he cringed, "sorry about that." "Don't be," she sighed. She smiled at the guard ruefully. "There's nothing that can be done about that. Ooh! Before I forget, is there someplace here I can get something to eat? I'm starving!" The guard laughed as he replied affably and pointed. "Go straight down there and to the left. If in doubt, follow your nose." "Thank you." Medeis sighed gratefully, making her way over to the food tent. "Maker watch over you." Medeis turned briefly and bowed her head, and echoed, "Maker watch over you." ~~~ Once she ate, Medeis decided to explore the camp further and walked amongst the throngs of tents and people. She had gotten used to the curious stares and even returned some of the looks, surprised when some had either acknowledged her with a nod or even a greeting. Perhaps it's not so bad after all, Medeis mused hopefully. She caught site of the Circle's tents again, but this time noticed that the templars were gone. She walked along the side and noticed an older woman standing there. As she drew closer, her brows knitted together as she tried to remember who it was. The woman wore the robes of a senior enchanter, red upon brown, with the Circle's crest resting just at her hips. She had stark white hair that was tied back, letting the short spike of hair hang just past the nape of her neck. She had clear blues eyes that were surrounded by gentle lines that lightly creased her face. It held a serene expression that put Medeis instantly at ease. "Ahh," the senior enchanter smiled, her voice quiet and kind, "the new Grey Warden recruit appears at last." Medeis blinked. "You've been expecting me?" "Somewhat." She said cryptically, her clear blue eyes twinkling. "Duncan spoke highly of you. I heard about your Harrowing. Marvelous work, the Fade can be a dangerous place. " "Thank you. I am sorry Enchanter, but I do not remember your name. I have seen you at the tower from time to time though. I am Medeis," she bowed her head, "pleased to meet you." "I am Wynne," she replied kindly with a nod, "likewise." "Will you and the others fight in tonight's battle?" "Not necessarily." Wynne answered. "We all have a part to play, however. I will do whatever the Wardens and the king ask of me. So," her eyes twinkling once again, "Grey Warden recruit? Not too shabby for someone just coming out of their apprenticeship." "I suppose not," Medeis shrugged, trying to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. She wondered how much Wynne knew about the circumstances of her recruitment. "It's certainly a rare opportunity, but I will try to make the most of it." "I am certain you will. Remember," Wynne said, eying her shrewdly, "although you are about to become a Grey Warden, you will still be viewed as a child of the Circle." "Tell me about it," Medeis drawled, pointing to her own mage robes, yellow upon blue, with the Circle's crest just resting between her hips. "The robes are irrelevant my dear," Wynne chuckled, "and you know it. You are a mage, and will be forever viewed as one, above all else. Therefore your actions will be interpreted as such. You would do well to remember that." "Yes ma'am," Medeis nodded, "I understand." "I am told you had the honor of meeting King Cailin?" "That I did. He's rather . . . exuberant." Wynne laughed at this and replied, "Yes very much so. His actions affects the troop's morale, so he must behave accordingly. He does find his enthusiasm rather easily though, reminds me of a puppy. He is a good man." "He is very kind. I certainly didn't expect him to be so welcoming." "His father, King Maric was very much the same way." Wynne mused. "But I shall not keep you. I'm sure we both have many preparations to make for the upcoming battle." "Yes, of course!" Medeis answered quickly, taking the hint. "Maker watch over you, Enchanter Wynne." "Maker watch over you, Medeis." With that Medeis walked away. She followed the path over to the temple clearing. She saw two men talking by some pillars and walked over. She stood a bit away so as to not interrupt the conversation. One of the men was wearing Circle robes that were similar to hers, yellow upon blue, the other was in armor. "What is it now?" The mage asked, clearly exasperated. "Haven't the Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?" "I've come to deliver a message, ser mage." The armored man patiently answered. "The Revered Mother she desires your presence." "What the Revered Mother 'desires' is no concern of mine. I am here to aid the Grey Wardens, by the king's orders might I add." "Should I have asked her to write a note?" An amused snort escaped Medeis, causing both men to instantly snap their attention to her. She forced a cough and grinned sheepishly, "I beg your pardon, sers." The mage glared at her. Whereas a smirk tugged at the armored man's lips. An appreciative twinkle lurked in the his eyes as they briefly lingered on Medeis. She met the armored man's gaze and felt a hot thrill skitter through her. The mage's angry voice cut through their heated stare as it forced the armored man's attention back on him. "Tell that woman," he snarled derisively, "that I will not be harassed in this manner!" The armored man eyes narrowed, "I, am harassing you, by giving you a message?" "Your glibness does you no credit!" "And here I thought we were getting along so well." The armored man said in a mockingly awed voice. "I was going to name one of my children after you-" he grumbled, "-the grumpy one!" Medeis turned away chortling, unable to repress the peals of snorting giggles wriggling through her. "Enough!" She heard the mage snarl, disgusted. "I will speak to the woman if I must. Out of the way, fool!" She recovered enough to turn back around and see the mage unceremoniously push his way past the armored man. The man simply shrugged and shook his head. He turned to her, that lurking twinkle back in his eyes as he lazily sauntered over to her. "You know," he sighed, slowly closing the space between them, "one good thing about the Blight is that it brings people together." She shivered as another thrill burned through her under the man's gaze. "So you call that," she motioned to where the argument just occurred, "bringing people together?" "Ah," he grimaced sheepishly, "you caught me not quite at my best there." "Indeed." She snickered. "Perhaps you can help me? I was told to come here and meet a Grey Warden named Alistair." "Oh?" His brows lifted, a wide easy smile gracing his lips. "Well then, allow me to introduce myself. I am Alistair, the new Grey Warden." He was a young man with short reddish-blond hair, stormy grey eyes and pleasantly filled lips. His chin was shadowed with a faint beard. He held his muscular stature with ease and his armor was worn the ease and familiarity of a seasoned warrior. "I am Medeis, one of the new recruits," she replied, "pleased to meet you." "Likewise. As the junior member of the order, I will be accompanying you as you prepare for the Joining." "I didn't think that I needed to be accompanied." "I know," He chuckled. "I felt the exact same way when I went through the Joining. It is tradition however, but I'll try not to get in the way." He winked stepping back, finally noticing her robe. They looked similar to the other man's robes, yellow upon blue. The yellow bell sleeves hung loosely, yet the bodice fit snug to her. Enticingly tracing the lines of her small firm breasts, slender waist, and wider hips. The yellow of the bodice faded into blue just at the breast bone. The blue continued down to the skirts of the garb. The Circle's insignia rested just at the center of her hips. The crest dangling as if it were a bow, tied to a sensuously wrapped gift. Wait, the Circle's crest? Alistair dropped his face into his hand and groaned, "You're a mage, aren't you?" "Yes," Medeis replied evenly, her voice hardening. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him shift uncomfortably. Child of the Circle Ch. 01 His face burned with shame. He kicked himself for not noticing it earlier. "Why?" She asked, trying to keep her temper in check. "Are my magical abilities going to be a problem for you?" "No no, not at all." He spluttered quickly, raising his hands up defensively. "It's just that, well, nervous mages make me nervous." "Nervous? Nervous!" She snapped. "Do I look like a nervous mage to you?" "No," he winced, "you look like a very upset mage. One who may turn me into a toad or something horrible if I upset you any further, in fact. Please don't turn me into a toad, I like the way I am." Her mouth dropped. "You are a fool! Turning you into a toad would be an insult to the entire species! You should be so lucky if I turned you into the filth I scrape off my shoe!" "Ugh! Okay I deserve that." he grimaced, taking a step back, "That was stupid of me to say." "Ha! Stupid indeed, fool." She spat as she began to close the space between them with slow, menacing steps. "So, fool, what other 'talents' do you have besides 'bringing out the best' in others and irritating mages?" "It seems I'm also quite adept at putting my foot in my mouth." He replied lamely, hands still up whilst retreating from her. "Understatement of the century. Tell me, fool," she drawled, closing the space between them. "What is with you and irritating mages so much? Do you have a death wish?" At this, she began poking him with her staff, backing him up even further. "Do you want to know what happens when you really upset a mage?" "Well I'd-oof!" His back hit a pillar, pinned between it, and Medeis with her staff poking up into his chin. "I'm assuming this is when you would show me what an angry mage can do, I suppose." "I suppose I should, fool," she agreed, "seeing that there's nothing you can do to stop me." "Um, actually, yes I can." "Oh?" She scoffed. "This I must hear. Pray tell, fool, how would you stop me?" "With my other talents. The ones that involve draining mana and disrupting spells. You see, I trained to become a templar." "What?" She spat, stepping back, unable to believe her ears. "Before I was inducted into the Grey Wardens, I was training to become a templar. Duncan recruited me before I took my final vows." A few moments passed as the two regarded each other. Suddenly, a couple of amused snorts escaped her, which then became giggles, then finally she doubled over laughing. He eyed her cautiously, wondering if she had lost her mind. "Uh, are you alright?" "Oh I'm fine," she answered in between giggles as she calmed down, catching her breath. She straightened back up, somewhat, leaning on her staff for support. "It's just the thought of you, being a templar . . ." She broke out into a peal of snorting giggles again, "Is preposterous!" Alistair narrowed his eyes, not amused. He would have joined in on the joke if it was not on him. Her laugh was infectious. The odd snorts she made whilst giggling would have been unappealing coming from anyone else, yet from her it was, well, adorable. "Are you quite finished?" He asked coolly. She answered with a few more peals of snorting giggles before catching her breath. She sighed loudly as she wiped away a tear, "Oh, that was a good one, fool." She grinned, straightening up. "Okay, now seriously, what are these supposed 'other talents' that you have? I haven't known Duncan for long, but he definitely does not seem like a man who would recruit just anyone into the Wardens on a whim. Even if the numbers in Fereldan are few." "I am not joking," Alistair bit out, "I was training to be a templar." "Impossible!" She laughed, incredulous. "Obviously that simple fool brain of yours has already forgotten what I am. See, I am a mage from the Circle," she said, making a sweeping gesture at herself, "which means, fool, having grown up surrounded by them my entire life, I've come to learn a thing or two about templars. They are ridiculously pious, pompous, ruthless, thick-headed fools who lack the sense to question any drivel the Chantry crams into their into their useless heads." She wagged a finger at him. "And you ser are not that. Well, except for the fool part. But you're not ruthless, well unless if I meant ruthlessly stupid, then you definitely are that. Okay, so, two out of four, but that still does not make you a templar! It just makes you a fool who wishes he were a templar. Fool!" Alistair rolled his eyes, "Must you keep calling me that? I do have a name, you know. And besides, little miss mage-who-thinks-she-knows-all-about-templars, you of all people should know that templars are not all alike." "I know your name," Medeis replied airily, "it is 'fool'! And it will remain as such until you stop acting like one. And don't you dare try to question my knowledge, fool. I know how templars are," she closed the space between them and jabbed a finger at his armored chest with each word, "and you ser, are not one of them!" She quickly retreated out of his reach. "I am going to see Duncan, he must be mistaken. There's no way you are the one to accompany me whilst preparing for the Joining." She spun on her heel and started walking away. She heard Alistair mutter, "Bloody mages!" And footsteps quickly following behind her, and instantly spun back just as he reached her, "Stay away," she said, still retreating, she pointed a warning finger at him. "What?" He smirked, still following her, "now you're afraid of the big bad templar?" "Hardly!" She scoffed, "I'm more afraid that you'll somehow run yourself through whilst that sword of yours is strapped to your back." She turned back around and continued walking. "That's not even possible!" "Oh I'm quite certain a fool of your calibre can make it possible." She quipped lightly over her shoulder. "Blast it!" He uttered through gritted teeth. "That's a barbarous mouth you've got on you!" "Perhaps," she sighed complacently, "but you only think so because I speak the truth. And let's face it, fool, the truth hurts." Alistair saw the Grey Warden tent and uttered a silent "thank you" heavenward. But then his heart sank when he saw the angry mage from earlier stomping away from Duncan. Fantastic, he groaned, this just keeps getting better and better. "Welcome back," Duncan said, greeting them. He looked searchingly between the two of them, "where are the other recruits?" "We haven't looked for them yet." Medeis answered. "Oh?" Duncan's brows lifted, "Is something the matter?" "Yes," she replied, jerking her thumb at Alistair, "this fool." "The name is Alistair." He sighed, rolling his eyes upward. Medeis glared at him, then turned back to Duncan. "Duncan, I understand that I have to be accompanied to prepare for the Joining, and I even understand why you may want it to be a templar. But him?" She asked, jerking her thumb again. "He claims to be one, but he didn't even recognize me for a mage, until much later! Even though I'm still in my Circle robe! Everything about me screams mage! Any templar worth their salt would have immediately known what I was the moment they set eyes on me! Robe or no." Duncan said nothing, but glanced at Alistair with a slightly raised eyebrow. Alistair shuffled uncomfortably under his questioning gaze. She continued on, "Far be it for me to question you, but I don't think Alistair's the templar he claims to be." Duncan's eyes shot back to Medeis, those piercing brown eyes glittering as he replied coldly, "Then don't." She jumped at the quiet order, her mouth dropped. But she shut it quickly under Duncan's imperious stare. "I have absolutely no doubt in Alistair's abilities, and you should not be so presumptuous to assume otherwise. The Grand Cleric fought me tooth and nail even when I invoked the Right of Conscription to recruit him. I had to move heaven and earth in order to get her to release him to me." Medeis's eyes widened, but remained silent as she gawked at Alistair. The Grand Cleric was the head of the Fereldan Chantry. If what Duncan said was true, and she had no reason to doubt him, then the trouble he had gone through to recruit her was laughable compared to what he went through to recruit Alistair. "Furthermore," Duncan continued, snapping Medeis's attention back to him, "from here on I expect you to treat Alistair with the utmost respect. He is a Grey Warden, your senior and therefore your superior. Is that understood?" "Yes ser." She answered quietly, bowing her head. "Good," Duncan replied, his gaze slid over him. "Alistair, come with me." Alistair inwardly groaned as he and Duncan walked some distance away from a cowed Medeis. He could only imagine the trouble he was in after the censure she received. "Now tell me Alistair," Duncan demanded coolly, "what is this I hear about you antagonizing mages?" "Which one?" He blurted, then instantly cringed when he saw Duncan narrow his eyes. "The man from the Circle." "Oh right." Alistair replied feebly. "The Revered Mother ambushed me and insisted I send him a message. I couldn't refuse her! With the way she wields guilt around here they should have drafted her in the army." "So she forced you sass the mage did she?" He asked dryly. "We cannot risk infuriating anyone, we do not need anymore ammunition against us." "I understand Duncan," Alistair sighed, "I apologize." "Now," Duncan said subtly pointing his head towards Medeis, "what about this one?" "I was distracted," Alistair admitted sheepishly, "I didn't notice the Circle crest right away." Duncan frowned. "Alistair, what was it that had you so distracted that you didn't notice she was a mage?" "Um, well," Alistair spluttered lamely, "her robe were different from that man's robe." "Different?" "Yes ser." Duncan looked at him for a moment. "Different." He repeated. "Yes different!" Alistair hissed desperately, jerking his head over to her. "Just look at her!" Duncan glanced briefly at Medeis and turned back to him. "What do you mean?" "That man's robe hung loosely," he said, "but hers! They way they-" Alistair paused. Duncan was looking at his hands, which were unconsciously hovering over his chest, making a not-so-subtle reference to Medeis's body. Duncan cleared his throat to cover the laugh that threatened to slip out of him. "Alistair," he started gently, "you trained as a templar. Surely you saw both men and women at the Circle." "Of course I did!" Alistair hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "But not like her! I mean, it's not only the robe. I didn't even really look at it-" "Alistair!" Duncan brows shot up, then his eyes narrowed. "What on earth were you looking at that you did not even see her robe?" "What?" He asked, dumbstruck. "Is that even relevant?" Before Duncan could answer Alistair rushed on, "Look I know I messed up and it was wrong. I will not let that happen again." Duncan looked at him for a moment, his face inscrutable. "Very well, Alistair," he replied coldly, "see that you don't." "I promise you Duncan, I won't." "And I too, will be more careful." "Be more careful? With what?" "In how I select recruits. I will ensure that the next time I recruit a woman into the Grey Wardens, that she will be the most unattractive female I can find." Alistair groaned as he rolled his eyes while Duncan chuckled heartily. The men walked back to Medeis. She noticed that Alistair's face was flushed with chagrin, whereas Duncan looked perfectly calm, with a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. She wondered they had discussed, but knew better than to ask. "Now that's settled," Duncan said, looking at Alistair and Medeis, "please summon the recruits. It is time to prepare for the Joining." "Yes ser." They replied, bowing their heads, they took their leave. Duncan watched as the two walked away, focusing on Medeis' retreating figure. She now carried herself with the quiet confidence that she had when he first encountered her in the tower. Taking a closer look he noted how her body moved with a beguiling grace. And to think, she was worried she would be reviled by the world for how she looked or for what she was. Duncan thought wryly. He had briefly shared that thought himself when she was frightened and timid at the inn. But the mage had caused a bit of a stir in the camp. And now Duncan understood why. He had caught a glimpse of it at the inn when she had relaxed and was herself. It was no wonder Alistair and that poor templar at the tower were so captivated by the woman. Medeis unknowingly exuded a sensuality that was dark and mysterious, yet sweet and naïve. And now that he thought about it, even King Cailin seemed to be somewhat taken by her. Duncan chuckled as he thought about how the similarities between the siblings showed themselves. Even now, as she walked away, he caught some of the soldiers subtly casting looks her way. For once, he was thankful for the hysterical fear of magic. That, combined with the fact she was a Grey Warden recruit, had no doubt kept any admirers at bay. One would have to have a death wish if they wanted to provoke a mage. But then Duncan smiled to himself as he remembered long ago, when he was young man just recently inducted into the Wardens. They had gone to the Circle tower as part of a mission. He had taken a detour and ran into a young apprentice, whom he enjoyed passionate encounter with. As he thought on it he could not help but think about the similarities between the apprentice and Medeis. Both women had that same enticing mixture of confidence, innocence, power and naïvety that men like Duncan found to be a tempting challenge to conquer. His blood ran cold at the thought. He then thought of his foolish exploits as a youth and shuddered. The idea of Medeis having to encounter men like that made him fraught with worry. Men who tried to force themselves were of no concern to him. She had shown that at the inn she was perfectly adept of defending herself. It was the rakes who seduced with sweet words and empty promises that would be a problem. Duncan laughed at the irony. Never did he think in all his years that he would have to warn a recruit of the dangers of sweet-talking men, as opposed to the dangers of the Darkspawn. If she survived the Joining, he would make sure to have a stern talk with her about the ways of the world.