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How to Adopt a Warden and Other Tales	By : Royality Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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In the center of Lake Calenhad stood a great tower choked to the brim full of mages. It wasn’t a place where anyone in the party wanted to go to. In fact, Morrigan flat out refused and suggested someone guard the docks instead, just case another assassin decided to sneak up behind them. Izarre didn’t believe a word of her ranting, but opted to only take a small group inside so they wouldn’t be confused for the keep. Leliana had no qualms about visiting the mages and Alistair insisted that he not be left behind. He wasn’t himself today, Izzare thought. There was a gleam to his eyes and a shroud of darkness ever since they came here. On the dock, he turned to the other Warden while trying to keep his voice low. “Are you sure you should be going in there?” The question confused Izarre for a moment.
Why shouldn’t I?” Alistair looked down at him, serious and stoic.
“You’re a mage, remember? An apostate really. You never belonged to the tower.” He took a step forward to run his fingers though growing out white bangs. “What if they, I don’t know, try something?” Izarre smiled a bit as he leaned into the caress once it had been made clear as to what had been bothering Alistair this entire time.
“I’m a warden now. The Chantry can’t condemn me anymore,” he said but paused as he looked to former would-be Templar. “Can they?” The taller man shrugged, unsure of them himself, and returned his gaze across the lake. The rickety small boat trip carried the three friends to the entrance where a pair of Templar guards allowed them to pass. Up and around a corridor stood the Knight-Commander, visibly shaken and pale. Abominations and blood mages had taken control.
The requested task to ensure an alliance between Wardens and Mages was not simple. If the First Enchanter lived, the Templars would postpone the Right of Annulment and not kill every remaining mage in the building in fear of corruption. The words struck Izarre deeply, even more so when Alistair agreed. “The Templars know what they are doing,” he tried to explain the reasoning, but it only caused more frustration. Past the sealed doors were a small group of mages, among them was an elderly woman by the name of Wynne. She spoke on behalf of her people, those who were as much the victims here as much as the Templars themselves. There were even quite a few children, forcing Alistair to reconsider his stance. Yes, he had been trained to be vigilant when it came to magic, but he had also taken a mage close to his heart; A mage who was fortunate enough not to have been in the tower when it fell to demons.
Izarre had already made up his mind to help, but not because he was a mage himself. Alistair had rubbed off on him as well and he began to see how it was wrong to stand idle while those around who could not defend themselves were slaughtered needlessly. “I’m coming with you,” Alistair announced as he walked into Izarre’s and Wynne’s discussion. “I won’t stand here to watch these kids be killed for something they didn’t do.”
“I’m coming as well. Demons are foul creatures cast away from the Maker’s embrace. They will not remain in control of this place,” Leliana said with some vigor. As Alistair stood beside his comrades, his eyes looked down as he gave a confidant smile. He was doing the right thing and it felt good to know that. When the barrier dissipated, to say that all hell broke loose would be an understatement. Hordes of demons attacked the group but quickly fell to Izarre’s rage. They were attracted to his magic, taunting him whenever they could. Alistair had never been in the tower before and took a moment to realize how this place could feel like a prison. Ravaged bodies littered the ground, their insides torn apart by claws, teeth, and blades. He saw monstrous alters created from human remains, demons violating enthralled bodies of both men and women, and the burned carcasses of children freshly taken from their homes only to die here. He wanted to look away, but forced himself to stare at every lost soul. It wasn’t about the dangers of mages anymore. This was a massacre of innocent people that could have been prevented. He had to save who he could.
As they ascended through the wreckage, they came upon a curious room where a demon laid in wait. In an instant, everything got lost in a fog. Izarre awoke to a strange sight. He could see lines, as if the world around him had been patchworked together from scraps of cloth. There was also Duncan, he thought, but his face was distorted and wrong. The voice Duncan spoke with was the voice he remembered, but it would echo in harsh tones and whispers. It didn’t take the young mage that long to figure out it was really a demon. It tried to argue, but was quickly slain as if Izarre were swatting a fly. He did the same to Alistair’s captors as well. Leliana was next and was followed by Wynne before they met the master of this realm. It was ugly, for sure, dressed in tight bondage to cover its mangled face and burnt skin, but for all its boasting, it was overwhelmed fairly easily.
The final victory in the tower came as the group killed the blood mage responsible and freed the First Enchanter. The Wardens successfully gained the mages as allies as well as a way to ensure Conner’s safety back in Redcliff. With mages and lyrium in tow, the group returned to the castle and conducted the ritual. A mage was needed to go through the Fade and Izarre reluctantly volunteered. As his soul entered the realm, his body crumpled to the floor to be caught by Alistair. All the man could do was wait. Hours passed before the body being held so gently and protectively in Alistair’s arms stirred once again, but to Izarre himself, it only felt like a few minutes. The demon was dead and Conner had finally come to with no memory of his transgressions. A grateful Arlessa offered the heroes room and board for the night after they had promised to search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes the next day.
Izarre was exhausted from back to back trips to the Fade. He was grateful for the time he got to spend alone soaking in a steel tub of near boiling water and the chance to change into something other than his mud-caked armor. The clothes provided by the Arlessa came with giggling handmaids to dress him as he was accustom to. The long shirt provided was deep blue, made of the finest silks. The pants were polished black leather that were pulled to be half undone once the girls were disappointingly led out of the bedroom. Alistair saw the line of them leaving as he walked on his down the hallway and let himself inside. He had changed as well, but was provided with simple cotton and wool garments after his rough body scrub with a rag and a bucket of warm water. It seemed that even now, Isolde still did not favor him in the slightest.
On the fluffy bed, Izarre sat there removing the flowers and decorative braids put in his hair by the maids. He was used to entertaining this way through his mother’s conditioning. As Alistiar shut the door behind himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he moved to sit down next to the other warden. “Here, let me help,” he offered as he carefully plucked a lily out before undoing the final braid. “There. Do you always get done up like that by girls?” he teased afterward while nudging his friend with his shoulder. The pampered young man let out a sigh to confirm Alistair’s suspicions.
“Pretty much.” The conversation quickly went stale as Izarre attempted to lock eyes. They had kissed once before, but not again since. There was tension here full of expectations, want, and desire. Reaching out, Alistair placed a warm hand against his pale cheek.
“I…actually came here to talk about what happened with Conner.” Izarre looked surprised, but nodded as he pulled away to stand.
“You were there. You saw what happened.” Alistair stood as well but remained close.
“Yes, I know. I just wanted to thank you. You went out of your way to save the Arl’s family and you did it, even though it would have been easier not to.” With a small shrug, Izarre bashfully turned away. He felt uneasy being praised, but by someone he really liked, more so. “There’s been so much death and destruction, it…well,” Alistair paused as he sighed. “It makes me feel good that at least we were able to save something, no matter how small. I owed the Arl that much.”
“If we stop the Blight, we’ll save much more,” Izarre said firmly as he leaned against a far wall, still hiding his face.
“You’re right…but…”
“But?”
“Hopefully by that time, there’s still enough of Ferelden left to save.”
“There will be, Alistair. Don’t worry.” As he finally turned, Izarre found himself being pinned.
“Good,” Alistair whispered with his hands pressed against the wall now. His muscled arms had trapped the object of his affection. “Now that the warm, fuzzy part of the day is over with, we can get back to the ritual dismemberments…Oh, wait. It’s not Tuesday, is it?”
“...Is that all you wanted?” Feeling flustered, Alistair blushed a bit as he leaned in to affectionately touch foreheads.
“…If I say no, will you be angry?
“I’d be angry if you said yes,” smirked the shorter one as he put his hands to Alistair’s cheeks. He had to pull the face down to get a decent kiss in. It was just as warm as their first time but their lips trembled a bit less. Still, it was a gentle thing that ended all too soon.
“I should…go,” Alistair reluctantly said as he pulled away but his arm was caught before he got too far.
“You should stay.”
“You mean you want me to join you? In your room?” There was an uneasy laugh attached to the end of Alistair’s question. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be nervous,” he quickly apologized as he took the thin hands into his own. “I must sound like a fool.”
“A bit,” Izarre smiled up at him but wasn’t at all turned off by Alistair’s flustered behavior. It was endearing.
“It’s just…you know I’ve never done anything like this. With…anyone. I was quite sheltered after all.” Still, he was given an understanding nod as his itchy wool shirt was held onto with wanting tugs. “I care for you so much. Whenever I think of this, I feel like a bumbling idiot! I’m just all…hands!” Pulling the hands off the rim of his shirt up to his chest, he placed them there so Izarre could feel how fast his heart was beating. “Look how crazy I am about you, Iz. I wish I could be better at this…I want this to be right.” Izarre was surprised at the quick thumping underneath his fingertips.
“I think…this is about as right as it gets.”
“In my uncle’s house, freshly cleaned up from being soaked in demon’s blood with the dawnspawn on our heels, death awaiting us at every turn? Sure, why not? Hot.”
“At least the bed is comfortable?”
“Well,” Alistair nearly purred as he leaned in to rub noses. “I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.” The grabbed kiss he was suddenly pulled into was his answer.
(AN: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the Bioware writing team.)
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How to Adopt a Warden and Other Tales