heroica | (no subject)

I have some idea... [ Oh, brave Warden. However do you live such a difficult and dangerous life??

She does step inside, since he'd invited her, and peers at the mess with great amusement. ]

Not a single one? Not even one I could ride? [ There's a little, or a lot, of a teasing tone there, considering he'd been the one to tease her about that in the first place. ] Well, I have faith in your ability to summon up mythical beasts from closets. Maybe it just isn't working today.

[ Or maybe she's still poking fun at him. Only in the most affectionate way, though!! ]

I hope nothing else alive came out of there. It'll be buried beneath all this.

[It's a trial. But one he faces bravely!]

Alas, no. Not even the teeniest, tiniest dwarf-friendly griffon. [He sighs and gives her an apologetic look, ruined just a little by his inability to stop smirking.] You think I should try again tomorrow?

[He will anyway. And every day following until it works. He owes it to all the Grey Wardens everywhere!]

I don't... think there was. It doesn't seem to know the difference between a griffon and a dog though. [He holds up the toy to demonstrate.] It kept giving me things like this. Or things for a dog.

[How that makes any kind of sense is anyone's guess. The two aren't exactly easy to confuse.]

[ 'Dwarf-friendly.' You're asking for it now, man. ]

I think you may run out of space entirely if you do that. [ She crouches next to Oren, picking through all the toys curiously. ] Is it possible you've really just had a dog on your mind all this time and that's why this happened? You are allowed a pet, if you want it. You could bring out a mabari.

[ All Fereldens are entitled to and deserve them, after all. ]

You could bring through an entire pack. They may recognize you as one of your own, since they raised you.

[ Robyn smiles brightly at him from the floor. Oren begins to gnaw on a stuffed griffon, drooling all over it. ]

[What? He's being totally innocent and helpful here. Why the hate?]

I can always get another room. There's plenty around.

[Schooling his features into a frown Alistair taps his chin thoughtfully as he considers the idea. After thoroughly weighing it up he sighs and shakes his head.]

I could... but then you'd just have the whole pack of us running around the mansion, drooling and chewing on things. And I worked so hard to get house-trained, I'd hate to lose all that.

[Does she really need to get back at him? He can do a good job of it himself and save her the effort.]

And your hound already seems to think this is his home without a pack to join. I wouldn't hurt your feelings by luring him away from you like that.

[Her hound that is definitely taking that particular griffon home with him, thanks.]

Maybe the mansion just realises even a pet rock wouldn't survive long under my care.

Edited 2016-03-10 10:13 (UTC)

You can't just abandon this one because you've filled it with toys! If you move to another, you may well just do it all again!

[ Not that she really thinks he would; this seemed to be more of an experiment than anything. Also, the potential to retrieve a griffon had been too enticing, and she might have done the same if he hadn't. ]

A fair point. [ She bites fleetingly at her lip, grinning. ] He may well stay here, since you do owe him something for one of the last time you met. Be careful, Alistair; he may seem innocent, but Oren can carry a grudge. I think I warned you...

[ Look. Look at the dangerous mabari, drooling and gnawing adorably at the toy, which, at his bite, squeaks loudly. ]

Maybe it has other plans for you. A griffon would mean a lot of time to care for it, I'd imagine. Unless it could fend for itself in the woods, come when it's called...? [ She hums thoughtfully, still sorting through all of the things on the ground, eyes back down at the mess. ] I wonder how the ancient Wardens kept their griffons. I'm sure you heard more of the stories than I did.

[ Him having lived through some of the more enjoyable times of being a Grey Warden, before the Blight. ]

And?

[As far as he can tell there are plenty of empty rooms waiting around. It likely wouldn't even matter if he did choose to take up another. Not that he will. But he could!]

Oh! That's right! [Trotting over to the rickety little table by the bed he grabs up a package wrapped in an old shirt and brandishes it triumphantly.] I can pay my debt! This should be enough to guarantee my future safety, shouldn't it? [He unwraps the package to reveal some dog biscuits - not exactly mabari crunch but hopefully good enough to pass muster - and holds it out towards Oren.]

Not that many more. I heard a few stories about the old Wardens and their griffons but mostly it was the same sort of thing you hear everywhere. Legends of the Fourth Blight and Garahel on his noble mount. [He shrugs, gaze going distant.] I did hear a little about Weisshaupt Fortress and the aeries where the griffons used to be kept but that was about it.

[Turning his attention back to Robyn he smiles tentatively.] Maybe one of us will get to see it for ourselves. The First Warden would have to want to meet the person who stopped a Blight and slew an archdemon in just a year.

And- Oh, all right. Do what you please, bury yourself in stuffed toys and whatever else you've got in here.

[ See if someone else comes running to answer your plea for help!! ]

Can you? Well, he'll be glad for that. [ Understatement. When he sniffs out the treats, Oren relinquishes the plush in a hurry and bounds toward Alistair, very nearly sitting on the Warden's feet in his eagerness. When it's offered, he snatches it up, leaving a slimy trail along Alistair's fingers. The biscuit is quickly devoured, and afterward, Oren places himself right in front again as if to ask for another. ]

Really? [ Robyn looks up from the mess, a little brighter-eyed than she'd been a moment before. ] Can you tell me about them? I've never been to Weisshaupt-... well, obviously, but I'd like to be able to see it once the Blight is done.

[ If what Cullen had told her wasn't true and she was going to survive, anyway. ]

There's no 'person' who could do all that. At the very least, the First Warden would want to meet the Wardens, plural, and their companions who were able to help.

[ She wouldn't claim that their group alone could stop a Blight or slay the archdemon without the help of the rest of Ferelden, let alone take that claim for herself only. ]

[Getting almost bowled over and then drooled on by an enthusiastic mabari must be enough payback for not following through on his promise sooner. Although, this might mean from now on Oren is always going to expect treats and Alistair has just doomed himself to being drooled on forever... He can handle that.

Scrubbing his hand off on his trousers he grabs another treat, tossing it off towards the other side of the room as a distraction so he can hide the rest of them safely away. He might need bribes later.

That done he turns back to Robyn, slightly surprised and pleased by her eagerness. It doesn't seem like just an interest in the legends of the previous Blights. Being a Warden means something to her. As it should, but he's learned not to take that for granted.]

Sure, if you want. It's all just what the others told me - about the relics and the fortress but I can tell you what I remember. No promises it's all true. They might have been leading me on a bit.

[He'd been an easy mark for them to make fun of - all in good spirits. Much like the two of them have become.]

So long as you're not too disappointed if the reality doesn't live up my story-telling when the leader of Ferelden's Wardens is summoned there. Your Most Heroic Fereldeness.

[ As Alistair planned, the dog bounds away after the second treat, nearly careening into the wall in the process. Robyn watches with great amusement, laughing at the hound, shaking her head in an almost incredulous way. ]

He acts with the energy of a much younger dog. [ The Warden tuts with a long-suffered sigh. At the other's agreement, though, she smiles more brightly again, settling in a more comfortable position amongst all of the closet-items on the floor. ]

Even if it isn't true, I'd love to hear it. [ Leliana sucks her into all of her stories as easily as anything. The former bard is an excellent storyteller, of course, but Robyn is also fascinated with anything about their home country and its heroes, including the Grey Wardens. ] I can ask the others when I get back and then I'll know if you're a liar or not.

[ Never mind that she wouldn't remember to ask once she returned or that the Alistair there won't be the one with which she'd had this conversation. ]

And who is the leader of Ferelden's Wardens? Is it you, Ser Handsomest, Wittiest and Most Charming of All?

[ After all, she hasn't heard any more details about the 'future' Warden-Commander, not since they'd spoken about Anders' arrival a month or so prior. ]

[Ah mabari. Maybe he should have grown up with a pack of them. He'd have fit right in.

Alistair pauses as Robyn settles down among the mess littering his room, a faintly dismayed look on his face.]

Ah- You can sit on the bed you know.

[He's not going to make a lady sit on the floor just because he's never bothered getting a chair. That's just plain rude. It's one thing for him to settle down there, leaning back against one of the bare stone walls - after a surreptitious check that the bed isn't covered with dirty clothes or worse. He's a big, uncultured brute. She's a tough, dangerous, competent Warden but still a lady.]

I'm not near pretty enough to lead the Wardens. [That is an important qualification for doing a good job of leading Wardens during a Blight. It just is. Warden-Commanders are different and don't need to be pretty.] So that leaves only one person.

[...Anders. Obviously.]

Now that that's sorted. Weisshaupt. [Where does he start? He doesn't have Leliana's flair for story-telling so all he can do is share what he's heard. Tilting his head back to study the ceiling, Alistair dredges up the memories of those times spent around the campfire with the other Wardens, smiling fondly as he recalls them.] I remember hearing about the memorial they have for Garahel. His armour is on display there along with the horns of the archdemon he slew - he and his griffon mount.

Oh- [ She begins, when he offers her a seat ('on the bed')- ] No, I really shouldn't stay, I-...

[ Except, she doesn't have anything pressing to return to, and even if she did, she wouldn't be more interested in it than revitalizing a friendship with him. That aside, she really is interested in hearing about the ancient Wardens, and so when she trails off, she just smiles almost sheepishly and shrugs as if to admit defeat. ]

You're pretty enough. [ Her mouth quirks at a smile, thinking of some moment during their quest when he'd mentioning putting on a dress and dancing for the late king. ] But I'll have to see Anders myself before I can make the final call.

[ Robyn hums in brief laughter, but she quiets when he starts talking. Her interest is obvious in her rapt attention, eyes widening slightly at the mention of the horns of the archdemon. ]

Can you imagine? Fighting a dragon on the back of a griffon-... [ The Warden sighs almost dreamily, lolling her head to one side. ] That is really the stuff of legends. And here we are - 'there' we are, I mean - trudging through every marsh in Ferelden without much by way of support. [ There's a derisive chuckle and a wry smile. ] I suppose the lives of Grey Wardens aren't as fanciful while you're living them.

[ She's about to ask him to go on when Oren, who'd returned to stuffed griffon toy, hears the sound of footsteps not far away. Still young-minded, the hound begins to bark, leaping to his feet and scrambling out of the door to chase down the source of the noise, likely to beg them for snacks. ]

Oren-! [ Robyn heaves another sigh, making fleeting eye contact with the other Warden before grudgingly getting to her feet. She moves to the half-chewed griffon and snatches it up. ]

I'll just... take this, then. [ She says, weakly. Then, she looks to the door, clearly not wanting to leave, but- ] I should... go after him. [ Then, she turns toward Alistair again with an apologetic smile. ] Can I hear the rest another time?

[Alistair brightens when she chooses to stay, gesturing for her to make herself comfortable.

And then bats his eyelashes at her.] You really think I'm pretty?

[Pretty or not, the topic of dresses is one best left alone. Much like Chantry robes, there are some things the world just isn't ready for. Although he may lose the competition either way since Anders, being a mage, already wears a dress and therefore must be prettier.]

Can you imagine flying on the back of a griffon? [He sits forward eagerly, as bright-eyed as Robyn herself.] It would make getting around a lot quicker. If you didn't fall off.

[Before they can get any further into stories or fanciful daydreams about griffon riding, Oren seems to decide they're being too boring for him. Alistair snorts and shakes his head as the mabari bounds off but can't hide his disappointment as Robyn is forced to give chase.]

Sure! [Was that too eager?] Whenever you like, just ask. I'll make some stories up so it sounds like I know what I'm talking about.

[Watching her go Alistair picks himself up so he can go back to sorting out the mess he's made. At least she took Oren's new chew toy. That's one less thing to worry about.]

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