heaven, a gateway, a hope

[byblow]

WHO: Grey Wardens & You
WHAT: A daring and not at all ragtag group of Grey Wardens has walked all the way across Orlais to inform the Inquisition--just in case it hadn't already realized on its own--that everything is terrible.
WHEN: Harvestmere 22
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: This post has: (1) A single group "we just got here, we're freezing, who is in charge, what do you mean you haven't decided yet" starter that we'd like to keep to one chronological thread. (2) Open starters for individual Wardens set later in the day/week.

OOC Note: Regarding the first starter--threadjack away! Anyone is welcome to wander onto the scene to see what's going on and wander back out at their leisure, to fall silent for a while, etc. No tagging order. But let slower taggers get a word in edgewise!

Comments

[byblow]

Alistair is incredibly grateful to not be lunged at by any Knight-Commanders for any purpose, and equally grateful that Stannis agrees to stop with the Your Grace thing. He has never been so grateful for anything in his life. (That's a lie.) And that gratitude is enough for him to ignore the lack of character jab--not that he would have argued. He would have agreed, at length, with examples. But agreeing seems like the sort of thing that might get him lunged at and strangled.

"Hard to say," he says instead. "Strange times we're living in. You noticed the darkspawn Magister at Haven, right? There was a darkspawn Magister? That's what I heard."

While he's babbling, he considers Stannis. Being excused from the crown and fancy titles, however grudgingly, makes him--not endeared, but slightly open to the possibility. Being insulted has always been the second-quickest way to his heart, after food.

"You didn't know Maric, did you?"

[theonly]

"I was not at Haven, but I have heard the same tale. I wasn't certain of the truth of it." The very idea of a darkspawn Magister is all but -- he closes his eyes as he feels the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. It is as though people would combine two words to make some monster. But he has heard the tale enough to believe its words, and from those that he can trust. "But there is also an Archdemon, apparently. Let us not skip of the details of the horrors that await us."

Stannis allows himself to give a tired look to Alistair at the question if he knew Maric. Does he look like he is so aged? But somehow, he holds his tongue this time as he shakes his head. "I've never met him, but my parents supported his claim." His head drops to answer any further question about what has happened to them. "I continue to honor their wishes to ask a Theirin to sit upon the throne, but we've already discussed why that may be impossible."

A beat. "We cannot all look so healthy and unweathered by the Fifth Blight."

[byblow]

"What, do you want to trade?" Alistair says, as if he'd give up being a Warden for anything. He wouldn't. Even now.

And he doesn't think Stannis that old, really. Someone wouldn't have to be much older than Alistair to have known Maric. Alistair could have known Maric, if Maric had deigned in their fifteen years of overlapping life (that Alistair knows of) to ever stop by and say hello, introduce himself, maybe even pat Alistair on his emotionally needy head.

"It's good of your parents to have told you what they wanted," he says, on that note, "or to have, you know. Spoken to you. Ever." Once the words leave his mouth he can hear how childish they are. He looks out at the dark mountains instead of at the Knight-Commander. "But if you wanted a Theirin on the throne, you should take your complaints up with Loghain Mac Tir. I could send him a letter for you."

[theonly]

"No. I don't trust you to be able to do what needs to be done to fix the Templar Order." Because there is much that needs to be done in order to repair the damage the few have done to the many. The reason for their existence has been forgotten in the wake of the rebellion, in the wake of Kirkwall.

"They only parted a few words with me. It was enough to know what my duty was to my household." Like the marriage with an Orlesian woman. He lets out a sigh as he realizes what a poor king that Alistair would make even though he is the rightful heir. The wounds they have toward their parents scarred them differently, and there is no reason to pick at them now. "I would rather that his head be sent to those that he left to die. To rot in the square of the city that he was supposed to protect."

Perhaps, that is not a gift that anyone would want. He continues, "But my complaints will be taken up when the Darkspawn in the Deep Roads and I can live with that." It is a fitting end but he would have killed Loghain rather than let the man live. Stannis frowns all the more as he feels Prince Cousland to be far too merciful at times. "And, I feel you, too, would make the sort of king that would pardon too many fools who are undeserving."