fandomhigh | How To Avoid Misadventure, Monday

"'Ello there, students," Alistair said, his accent only a little overexaggerated. He felt naked without his sword around, though he did still have his shield firmly tied to his back. (He'd protested that it was 'mostly decorative, unless someone takes a swing at me', and then he'd pointed out that it didn't even have any sharp bits, and...) He looked cheerful, though, and if the armor he was wearing was heavy, he wasn't admitting to it. "Welcome to How To Avoid Misadventure Class. I'm Alistair, I'm a Grey Warden, and I've got a fair bit of experience with misadventure, if I do say so myself." Beat. "Which I do. Anyway, this lovely creepy woman over here is..."

"Tis certain, one of your instructors is more prone to misadventure and stupidity over the other," Morrigan added sweetly. "Luckily for you, 'tis not I."

"I am called Morrigan. And as you are being inflicted with the misadventures of a Warden not yet old enough to be without his masters, I am here to provide balance, not being prone to misadventure myself."

Mostly because any issues Morrigan ran into were easily dealt with using fire or fangs, but that was a small detail.

"Really," Alistair said. His eyebrow lifted. "I find that very hard to believe. What was that your mother wrote about stockings...?"

He had limited blackmail material, but by the Maker, he'd use it.

"My mother says whatever amuses her most, and 'tis not usually worth it to question her meaning," Morrigan stated. "But if we are to discuss mothers, please, enlighten us about yours. Did she put your name in your socks for you, or did you start that after joining the Wardens?"

"My mother is dead, not that it's any of your business," Alistair said. Mildly. "The Templars put their names on their socks, it's how we keep them apart in the laundry, if you've ever heard of that at all."

"You cannot wash your own clothes, and thus, must rely on someone else to do it for you," she replied smartly. "Tell me, how does it feel not to know how to use soap?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Alistair asked. "I feel like I have to constantly move to stay upwind from you."

It was clear they had completely forgotten the point of the lesson by now.

Perhaps Alistair had, but Morrigan didn't expect much else from a baby Warden. "Let this be your first lesson," she sighed. "Always be sure to choose your own party members, least ye be stuck with someone less than desirable."

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah," Alistair said, rolling his eyes. "Let's get around to the first exercises, shall we? 'I'm going on adventure, and I'm taking with me...'"

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"Again," Gabrielle said with a sigh, "do I really have to narrow it down to one? Although falling over a cliff into the ocean with my best friend and waking up in some magical land where both of us had to work out our problems with each other through song is up on the list pretty high."

Gabrielle was very lucky that Alistair was too wide-eyed and gallant to say anything about the sudden and completely out of bounds image he was having about slumber parties.

He was eighteen, okay? "...You had to work it out through song," he said, restraining his laughter. "Really?"

Good thing she hadn't mentioned the state she'd been in when she woke up in Illusia, then.

"We had backup singers at some points," Gabrielle added, nodding. "I remember one big musical number with my entire village."

"Are you sure you didn't just eat a bad weed that day?" Alistair said. "Not judging! That's a lesson, too."

"No bad weed, and no drugged nutbread either, I'm sure of it," Gabrielle replied with the kind of look that hinted she was all too familiar with how at least one of those scenarios tended to turn out. "I can't explain how that happened either."

~~Other than how the writers were clearly on something.~~

"...Nutbread can be drugged?"

Shattering his world here, Gabs.

How To Avoid Misadventure, Monday

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