its_not_tuesday | it's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes (closed to Jo)

"Oh, I guess that's definitely handy." She nodded her head, still studying him. "Do you still do that? Hunt mages and stuff?"

"No." Alistair shook his head. "I'm a Grey Warden now, and I never took any vows as a Templar. Technically, I still...could, hunt mages. Everything I learned in Templar training, I still know and can use."

"Right, I remember you saying something about that." She crossed her ankles as she leaned back, settling to make herself more comfortable. "Do you ever think about what you would have done if you hadn't been a Templar or a Grey Warden?"

"Sometimes," Alistair admitted, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he settled back as well. "Truthfully, I never really had much in the way of a choice."

"What else would you have liked to do?" Resting an elbow against the back of the couch, she shifted to face him.

"I...don't know," Alistair admitted. "I grew up in Redcliffe before the arl sent me to the Chantry. I suppose I could've been a fisherman. Or a guard at the castle if the arlessa had allowed it. Which is doubtful."

"Why?" She didn't really know what an arl or an arlessa was but she was assuming they were people, maybe some kind of nobility in his world or something.

"Well, the arlessa thought that I was, ah...the arl's bastard." He sighed a bit, shrugged. "It wasn't true, but...well, he could hardly tell her 'Oh, no, he's not mine, he's the king's!' That's the reason he sent me to the Chantry."

"That sucks, I'm sorry." She sighed, shaking her head at the idea that he had been shoved off just to save a couple from possibly arguing.

"Eh, that's life." He shrugged and smiled slightly. "Plenty of other bastards have had it much worse."

"That's probably true." She nodded her head before smirking at him a little. "You know, I'm not sure I could picture you as a fisherman."

"I would've been terrible at it," he agreed with an amused hum. "But...logically, that would've been the only real option for me in Redcliffe. It's a fishing village. People fish. That's their livelihood."

"Of course, I can't say anything because I'm not much of a fisher either." She offered, then nodded her head. "I wanted to be a hunter but, beyond that, there wasn't much else for me. I could have stayed at the bar."

"I suppose I've never really had the chance to think about what I 'wanted' to be," he admitted with a bit of a sheepish shrug and a smile. "I was sent to the Chantry young and always assumed I'd become a Templar. Then I became a Grey Warden instead. I never really thought to myself 'You know, I'd like to run an inn. Or sell pantaloons in the Denerim market place.'"

"So, instead, you get teleported to a strange village where you're given a bag shop to run and you're left at the mercy of wicked, wicked people." She chuckled. "Must seem kind of tame."

"As opposed to nearly getting eaten by dragons, constantly being ambushed by monsters, accused of treason, fighting to stop a civil war before it starts?" Alistair pretend to think about it for a moment, taking a long, contemplative sip from his soda. "I suppose you have a point. Though, well, there is a dragon here, so it feels a bit more like home at the moment."

"Did you want to strap on a sword and see if we can beat the dragon up?" She teased before eying him. "So I really don't have to take it as easy on you as you might think. You're used to crazy things going on."

"So are you bored here?" She knew that the others were at times.

"Oh no, I'm fine with letting the dragon be for now," Alistair drawled, making a face. "Did I mention how much the tail hurts?"

He leaned forward and set the bottle down on the coffee table. "Bored? Not at all. There's a lot here that's new to me, you know."

"I think I'd rather deal with the tail than the head." She hummed.

"Right, so it's still all a new learning curve for you." She nodded in understanding, reaching over to set her drink down as well. "I guess I take a lot of it for granted since it's all normal to me. Well, as normal as things can be in a magical village. Though, dragons are new for me."

"That's just it, though, you expect the head!" Alistair replied, pointing at her. "You're very aware of the head. You're watching the head very closely and then, all of the sudden, you're flying through the air and getting very up close and personal with the cliff face."

He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. "Are you bored?"

"Good point." She nodded as he explained how it was that one could find themselves getting acquainted with the tail of a dragon. "Good thing for armor, right? Which probably still doesn't' do a lot against a tail and a cliff face, right?"

She paused before shrugging. "I don't know. Not at times." But there were times, once in awhile, when she felt...restless.

"It sort of depends on the armor." He winced. "I cracked a few ribs, once, because of dented armor."

He thought about her response for a moment, and nodded. "It is a rather small little world we've all been pressed into, isn't it?"

"Ouch." She winced in sympathy. "I've done that just from being tossed around."

"Kind of. I guess a part of me is...waiting." She wondered if that would make sense to him though she supposed it wouldn't since she hadn't explained the whole being dead part.

"It's even worse when you have a giant piece of metal constantly pressing in on them," Alistair replied, making an unpleasant face.

His eyebrow went up. "Waiting?"

She drew in a slow breath, suddenly looking a little unsure of herself. "I...thought this place with Limbo or something when I arrived."

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