Years Fly By, Open

[Stephan Williams]

14 years, has it really been 14 years since I've joined the Wardens. Stomping the snow off my boots, I take a look around the entrance hall of the Keep. No one in sight at the moment, but I'm sure that won't take long to change. "Maker's breath it's cold out there boy." My mabari just gives me a short bark in response. "Yeah, of course it wouldn't bother you." Say what you want, but I know what Khan is trying say.

A few more steps brought me in front of a mirror, and I just stopped to look for a moment. I shouldn't even be alive right now, and I don't just mean the Joining either. My friend Trace had actually saved me from the chopping blocking. I wasn't exactly given the choice of joining or not, but I won't complain about it either. I was only 18, I didn't have anywhere else to go, no family to go to. The Wardens have treated me well enough I guess. I had friends, I had a purpose, armor on my back and a roof over my head....most nights anyway.

No matter how many years pass though, one memory will always haunt me. The sight of my parents farm house burning, and that smell. Sweet Andraste's mercy that smell. Just the memory of the smell brought bile to his mouth. I've tried so hard to forget. To bury the memories, but they never stay that way for long. As much as the thought hurt, it was also why I am the way I am today. "Can't put the past behind me Khan." Another bark from Khan and I give a short chuckle. "I'm old? Do you know how old you are in dog years?" Khan answers me with a growl. "Well then don't be calling me old."

[Guinevere Mac Tir]

The other Grey Warden with a Mabari hound as his own was Xavier. Even then, I had not expected a mage to have one. Yet they were common enough now, amongst the Wardens, from all walks of life. I had not been fortunate enough to gain one, though I could have received one when I was much younger, simply by asking Uncle Loghain and the King for one. But a ten year old girl is too young to have a Mabari hound of her own, however amusing the idea had been. Queen Elissa's Mabari hound had probably fathered quite a few of the Mabari amongst the Grey Wardens, though I had no idea whether it was the sire of the dog I now saw next to this behemoth of a man. For this man that stood in the snow, stamping his boots, was a Warden from somewhere-- I couldn't quite keep up with where everyone was from. It came with being a young Warden-Commander.

I drew my heavy cloak around my body, feeling the chill wind blow through the overtunic I wore, practical though it was. Dresses were never really my thing-- I preferred to be in pants and tunics over the ruffles and beribboned dresses that the members of King Cailan's court wore. Of course, being young at the time, my mother had allowed it. It had been a good ten years that I'd been a Warden-- I only had ten years left, and then I would be walking the Deep Roads if another Blight did not come. I had thought of sacrificing myself to the Archdemon, instead of letting another Warden do it in my place, but there was no Blight, and no hint of a Blight on the horizon.

We would've felt it if there was.

Instead, I smiled softly at the Mabari hound, hoping he wouldn't growl at me if I decided to give him a pat. "And what's your name, boy?" I asked him as I put my hand out for him to sniff. Straightening up, I took stock of the man who looked as if he were a Chasind Barbarian, and paused. Perhaps I really ought to introduce myself--- though I was certain he would not be offended if I did not.

"I hope you're not going to take offence at me not introducing myself straight away. I'm Guinevere, one of the Warden-Commanders of Ferelden." I put my hand out in a friendly gesture.

[Stephan Williams]

I heard Khan give a bark and I turned to see someone approaching him.

"And what's your name, boy?"

Khan gave a short bark, and approached the woman cautiously to sniff her hand. After quick sniff, Khan backed up and sat down to look at her better. Then with a quick headtilt and a moments deliberation, Khan bounced up and started barking and running around her excitedly. I just gave a chuckle at him. "His name is Khan, and he seems to like you. Means you have a good spirit and a noble heart." I often let Khan judge people for me. I have yet to figure it out, but for whatever reason Mabari's were excellent judges of character. I can't remember a time when he had ever been wrong.

Seeing her in her warm clothes made me realize that I was in full plate armor still. For the time being I would just ignore the discomfort.

"I hope you're not going to take offence at me not introducing myself straight away. I'm Guinevere, one of the Warden-Commanders of Ferelden."

I blinked in surprise here. Wasn't exactly expecting the first person I mee to be one of the Warden Commanders themselves. Wait, was she actually offering me her hand. Instead I opted for the more formal salute, clanging my gauntleted fist against my chest. "Stephan Williams. Newly transferred from the Tevinter Wardens. I don't mind at all Commander, in fact it was safer to introduce yourself to the dog first. He tends to get protective." I had actually came with my friend Trace and was actually hoping he would be here already. Of course I stayed behind to stable the horse, so he might have beaten me inside already. Khan took that moment to come and sit at attention beside me and give a sharp bark. Kind of like he was reporting in as well. I love that dog.

[Guinevere Mac Tir]

There was a reason I never introduced myself as Guinevere Mac Tir, and the reasoning was that I would be tarred with the same brush as Loghain. I preferred to let my actions speak for me, not my surname, and so it was amusing when people learned I was a cousin to King Cailan's queen. I hid behind my desire to be judged only on my actions, not on a long-disgraced name. Perhaps it was wrong of me to think that, though-- but it couldn't be helped. One action was all it had taken for Loghain to be vilified, just one action at Ostagar had plunged Ferelden into a civil war, one action for a once-revered hero to become the villain of the piece.

I smiled as the man spoke, not expecting the Tevinter accent that coloured his words. It had been many years since I had heard a Tevinter accent, and yet it did not surprise me that I could still pick it. Like many accents, they were easy to pick if one had travelled broadly around Thedas as I had. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ser Stephan. And the same to you, Khan. Welcome to the Peak." I smiled once more as he opted for the formal salute as opposed to the handshake. I suppose he thought that shaking my hand would introduce informality amongst the ranks, though whether that was true or not, I couldn't tell.

I was never great at reading people's intentions-- it had landed me in trouble before. Yet for some reason, the First Warden had seen fit to nominate me and Xavier as the Commanders of the Grey here in Ferelden. "Shall we head inside? You look like you're about to freeze in your heavy armour, and that's never entirely pleasant." I smiled at him once again, knowing that in Tevinter, the Grey Wardens would be under the influence of the Magisters. Perhaps I was judging too harshly, but they were my own thoughts, and in the five years I had been co-commander, Xavier had taught me a lot about disregarding my preconceived notions of what the mages could do, and that not all mages were the dangerous sort the Chantry and the Chant of Light spoke of. Plus, there had been an incident too many where Xavier had been left to bandage wounds and make use of his talents as a mage.

"Tell me, how is Minrathous these days? Is it still as mired in blood magic as ever?" I was genuinely curious.

[Stephan Williams]

I generally don't react like that. In fact, I've been reprimanded before for being too informal. It might have been my surprise at who the first person who met me was. Or maybe it was the fact that I was in a new country and feeling a bit out of my comfort zone.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ser Stephan. And the same to you, Khan. Welcome to the Peak."

Finally I smiled and shook my head a little, offering my hand to her. "Sorry, I'm a little off kilter at the moment. It's a pleasure to meet you as well Commander. As well as a honor to be here. Although the weather leaves something to be desired." Khan gave another bark and started running around her again. "Behave yourself Khan. Don't want to give a bad impression now do you?" Khan just ducked his head and gave a small whine before returning to my side. "Sorry about that, he can be rather energetic."


"Shall we head inside? You look like you're about to freeze in your heavy armour, and that's never entirely pleasant."

I laughed a little bit and nodded my head. "Please, I don't know how much longer I can take it. Any longer out there and you guys might have had to wheel me in here on a barrow." I shivered a bit and wished I wasn't wearing my armor so I could rub my arms. "Lead the way, a warm fire and a good chair sound good right about now."

"Tell me, how is Minrathous these days? Is it still as mired in blood magic as ever?"

I blinked in surprised a bit at the question and thought about the best way to put it. "Minrathous is much the same as it has been for as long as I can remember." I really didn't like talking about the Magisters all that much, but I hoped she would catch the hint in that statement.

[Guinevere Mac Tir]

The chilblains on my toes only confirmed what the rest of my body knew: it was freezing cold out here. Barely warm enough, even with three layers of thick socks, the cold permeated through every bone and snug piece of armour. A cloak in this weather was merely a fashion accessory-- it provided very little warmth on its own-- one needed to be rugged up in lambswool and fur-trimmed armour to be warm in a Ferelden winter. This close to the ocean, the chill wind carried the ice off the icebergs and permeated through layers of warm clothes, and I had seen strong men fall to the common cold, despite Xavier's best efforts to heal them, and my best efforts to nurse them back to health. We walked slowly up the steps, Khan bounding energetically ahead, turning back every so often to see that his master was following, until we reached the oak doors.

"It's understandable you're a bit off-kilter. I would be, too, in your shoes." My voice was pleasant and calm, and his response about Minrathous being the same as ever made me pause for a moment. There was probably something he didn't wish to talk of, and I wasn't going to press him this eve. I would get him settled first, with a mug of hot cider and a hot plate of stew fresh from the kitchens. At least this time, I wouldn't have the heartache of watching a recruit die from the Taint while undergoing the Joining. This time, it would be different, as he was already a Warden, and wouldn't undergo anything dangerous. I welcomed the reprieve, as I dreaded finding the Darkspawn blood required-- we had the blood of the Archdemon, we just needed the blood of the 'spawn. It was an initiation that I always dreaded putting my recruits through.

A plate of stew swiftly arrived, as did a mug of hot cider. I motioned for him to begin eating while I attended to some other business. "Please don't wait for me, I just have a few things to attend to." Perhaps the statement was redundant, but if I had learned anything, redundancy saved us a lot of heartache-- it saved us from the disappointment of losing recruits, no matter how skilled and able they were. I had closed myself off from that part of me, the part that felt every death as though it were my own.

I headed for the kitchens, and returned with a cup of mead and a trencher of bread. "After this meal, I'll get your lodgings sorted. You don't mind lodging with a Chasind and an Orlesian Chevalier, I hope? They're pleasant enough people-- just.... strange at first. The Orlesian... I'm not entirely sure why they left queen and country behind for the wet dog smell they claim Ferelden reeks of." It might've been racist to anyone but the wardens, but the Orlesian had complained bitterly in his first few weeks here. He had finally adjusted, and no longer complained about the smell, nor about the food or the damp. Uncle Loghain would have had an apoplectic fit had he learned of the Orlesian Grey Wardens being allowed back into Ferelden after he had spent his life driving them out of the country.