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I Am the Alpha	By : LadySephiroth Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2363 -:- 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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I Am the Alpha
Take a bow
Great. On top of everything else she was having darkspawn nightmares too.
She rolled over and sat up, panting heavily. It had been so real. She had seen them, seen the dragon. It called her, making her blood lurch in her veins. She didn’t like being pulled towards something without control over the direction she was going in. She thought the power would smother her, suffocate her. She was glad she tore away from it before it went any further.
“Are you OK?” Alistair asked gently.
She looked up. He was sitting across from her on the other side of the bonfire. In the flickering light she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. It made her furious.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, standing up. “I don’t need a nanny.”
“I was just…!”
She shook off his concern and started walking over to the water source they were camped by. She thought she heard him calling her an ungrateful bitch but she didn’t care. Bodhan and Sandal had decided to tag along, mistaking Morrigan’s sarcasm for a real invitation. And there was some other weirdo there that she didn’t know.
“Who is that?” she asked as she stopped.
Not that she expected an answer, but she got one. A rather irritated one at that.
“I don’t know,” Sten growled. She looked up at him (she practically had to crane her neck to do so) and saw him outright scowling. It was rather frightening.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“Why have we stopped?” he wanted to know. “There are darkspawn to fight.”
What the hell kind of question was that?
“We need to rest,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. “And so do you.”
“I am fine,” he said after a tense pause.
“No you’re not. You’ve been in that cage for weeks. Did they even feed you? Give you water? When was the last time you ate?”
When was the last time she ate for that matter? When was the last time anyone ate?
Wait, where was Leliana? And Sam?
“Alistair!” she called, stalking towards him.
The templar sighed and rubbed his temples. “What is it now your highness?”
“Where is my dog?”
He couldn’t stop his annoyance from spreading over every word. “He went hunting with Leliana.”
“Hunting with…” Oh, right. She fell asleep from utter exhaustion as soon as they had picked a spot to camp. Or maybe she had just passed out. She couldn’t really remember.
Wait, where were they even going? They did have a plan, right?
No. She told Alistair to shut up when he brought it up. She was just tired of hearing his voice and generally being in his presence.
“Where should we go first?” she asked, sitting down next to him.
He eyed her like she was a serpent ready to strike. “Oh, now you want my opinion?”
“Don’t be such a baby, Alistair,” she snapped.
“I’m not being a baby!” he snapped back. “You have singlehandedly alienated everyone here and it hasn’t even been a whole day yet!”
“How have I alienated anyone?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Well, let’s see.” He started ticking things off on his fingers as he named them. “You called Morrigan a witchy bitch, you told Leliana the Maker can kiss your ass and keep her religious drivel to herself, you’ve constantly insulted and berated me since the minute we met, and I’m pretty sure that Sten doesn’t appreciate being called “it”! Although I could be wrong about that last one.”
Sten snorted in reply.
“The only one of us you haven’t alienated is the dog, and that’s probably because emotionally you’re on the same level.”
“You put me in charge,” she reminded him. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She was itching for him to challenge her. A fight - a real fight - would have them settling this once and for all. Then she could finally wipe that stupid look off his stupid face.
“It’ll be easier for us to follow you if you stopped treating us like your servants and started treating us like your companions,” Alistair countered. “This journey is hard enough Elena. We don’t need you making it any harder.”
Leliana walked into camp then, with a couple of wild birds in her arms. She was no longer in her chantry robes, but in some light armor they had gathered while in Lothering. Sam was beside her, dragging a sackful of game behind him.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized as she neared the fire. “There’s no big game around so Sam and I got birds and rabbit instead. I hope that’s OK.”
“It’s fine,” Alistair assured her with a smile. “We’ll just roast them separately.” He switched moods fairly quickly, all things considered.
“Oh good,” she sighed, dropping the birds in the dirt. “I’ve got some vegetables too. Wild onions and bitter greens.”
Alistair grabbed a bird. “I’ll clean, you cook.”
Sam barked. He was a huge, thick hound, nearly all muscle. His fur was short, tan and covered in war paint. He looked intimidating, but he was friendly to all of their companions. He wagged his short tail and ran around in a circle, letting them know how excited he was for dinner.
“You can help too,” the templar grinned, “but no drooling on the food. No one wants to eat dog drool, even if it is cooked.”
Sam whined.
Elena got up and moved away from their little group project. The food was done in an hour, but she wouldn’t have any of it. Her stomach betrayed her when she refused, but she stuck by her decision.
“Fine,” Alistair snorted. “More for the rest of us.”

WEIGHED∙IT∙AGAINST
All Sten saw was children.
Children fighting over trivial things. Or perhaps not so trivial. Humans usually squabbled, but the boy had a point: she couldn’t keep treating her companions like they were beneath her. Not if she expected them to be successful.
She was sitting alone up against a rock, legs and arms crossed in sheer defiance. Sten was cleaning because the others had prepared and cooked the meal. The dog was helping by burying the bones and other scraps. Smart animal. It was quite fascinating.
Sten never questioned why women did not lead in the qunari, but now he knew: they were too emotional. And Elena was too young, still a youth with no hint of what she was doing. She could wield a sword and a knife, but she was no warrior. She was no leader.
She wouldn’t even take care of herself. After scolding him about needing rest, the irony was not lost on him.
There was a bit of food left, enough for the dwarf, his son and the stranger to share in their meal. Even Sam had a plate, though he growled at anyone who came near it. He even bit Alistair for trying to take it. He should have known better. He was a war dog.
Sten stalked over to the water source to clean up their dishes. Sam followed. He stopped when he reached his master, placing a plate down in front of her. His plate. The one he protected from Alistair. The one he never saw the dog eat from.
After a moment of being stubborn, her features softened. He could see her age now. She wasn’t just a girl, she was an untested one. Her skin was soft, unblemished, untouched. It was dark but pure. She had no scars, no nicks, nothing that showed even a hint of having adventures or a hard life.
He saw bruises but that was from their recent battles. They would fade. They wouldn’t be permanent.
“Thanks boy,” she muttered, rubbing his head.
He barked happily and sat in front of her, watching her devour her meal. She certainly ate like she was still growing.
Sten bent down at the pond to clean the dishes.
Everyone was assigned their place. She did not seem to have one, though it appeared she did have one at first. He had not seen any women that did not show any signs of hard work. Maybe she had been someone important at some time. The way she carried herself showed that she thought everyone was beneath her. She looked at each of them with disdain, especially Sandal. Only he and the dog seemed to escape her childish wrath.
He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
He took the clean dishes back to the fire to dry them out. The skillet needed to be oiled. He searched the packs to see if they had a bit of it.
He found it, but was sorely disappointed. It wasn’t enough. Vashadan. He couldn’t have the skillet rusted out. Now what?
“What are you doing?” she asked.
She would have startled him if he hadn’t heard her coming a mile away.
She sat down next to him with her plate. It was clean and wet; she had washed it herself. He might have been surprised if he were someone else.
“The skillet needs to be oiled,” he said sternly.
She didn’t ask why. He was grateful. He didn’t feel like babysitting or explaining things she should already know.
“Is that enough oil?”
“No.”
“Here.” She reached into her pack and pulled out a small square cloth with a letter on it. “Use this.”
“For what?” He already had something to dry the dishes with. That was not the issue.
“To oil it. Here.” She took the oil from his hand - she had such tiny fingers - and poured it onto the cloth. Then she wiped the oil across the skillet. It spread evenly, much to his surprise. That would be handy later, when they got new oil. Now they wouldn’t be so wasteful.
He looked at her. He must have been asking for an explanation with his eyes, because she readily gave him one. Or perhaps she just liked talking, like the rest of her species.
“My nana used to make me oil the pots when I was disobedient,” she explained. “I got really good at it.”
“...Nana?” he repeated, blinking. “I do not know this word.”
“She’s the person that watched me when my parents weren’t around.”
He blinked again. “Parents?” He was unfamiliar with that word too. Much of the common tongue was still elusive to him, but he knew enough to communicate efficiently. His training exercises helped, but he had yet to master the language. It was so broad and there were so many words. It added to the endless complication of learning it.
Fortunately the Warden didn’t seem to mind. They had an informative discussion about how human families worked - or at least how hers did. Sten got a headache from the information overload. She kept using words he wasn’t familiar with, words she would have to keep explaining. But in the end, he seemed to get the jist of it: Her family was important. They were leaders. She had been raised to be someone important, a leader. Now she was completely lost.

THE∙CONSEQUENCES
“It is not a matter of trust,” Alistair was saying as they stood on Redcliffe's town bridge. “...Oh wait. Yes it is. I don’t trust you. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
She was beyond furious. “You’re the rightful king, the heir to the throne!” she retorted. “How could you not want to be king?!”
Cailan was dead, and Alistair had just confessed he was his half-brother, the bastard prince that the nobles tried so hard to sweep under the rug. Unlike the nobles who looked down on him for being born out of wedlock, Elena didn’t care.
“This is why I didn’t tell you.” He pinched his nose and shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Understand what?” she countered. “That you’re a coward, running from your responsibility?”
“I am not a coward!” he shouted. “I am sick of my bloodline following me everywhere I go! I just want to be me! I just want to be Alistair!”
“You can’t!” she snapped. “My bloodline follows me everywhere too! We’re the last of our houses! Do you honestly think that we can just let that go?? That we can just forget all the responsibility that entails, and just walk away without a fight?! How flippant would that be?!”
Alistair didn’t say so, but her words felt like a knife in his gut. He’d forgotten she lost everyone she ever loved. She had to join the Grey Wardens, but now she couldn’t even continue her own family line. She hadn’t really even had time to grieve. No wonder she had been so mean lately.
“...I’m sorry Anara,” he said humbly.
“Elena,” she corrected harshly.
“What does that mean anyway?” he asked. “I’ve never even heard that name before. Is that elven?”
He was trying to distract her. It was his fallback tactic. It actually worked.
“My father named me,” she brooded. “I’m not telling you what it means.” She’d had enough of him. She stormed off in the opposite direction, away from Redcliffe, back towards camp.
“Come on Anara!” he called after her. “I thought we were friends! We were bonding over bloodlines and shared hatred! Don’t be like that!”
Leliana waited until she was clear out of sight before she spoke. “She’s going to kill you in your sleep,” she said.
“I know.”
The prince sighed and rubbed his temple. He felt a major headache coming on.
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I Am the Alpha