Warden's Honor
Chapter One: Envy
Alistair watched as the Chantry goers filtered out of the large wooden doors at the far end of the building. His eyes roamed the crowd of followers with envy. They were free to live their lives as they choose too. Alistair would have traded all the gold in Thedas plus his cursed heritage for a moment in their simplistic lives. Sighing he turned his attention back toward the scapulae. He would be scouring the kitchens for a week if Grand Cleric Hannah caught him unaware.
The Grand Cleric seemed to have it out for him. She was constantly berating him or finding things for him to do besides his templar training. And half the time he hadn’t even deserved the punishment she dealt him.
“Alistair!”
He jumped back to attention as Hannah’s voice rang out. Sweet Andraste, what could I have done now. He wondered as the elderly woman approached him at a steady gait. Her cold gray eyes pierced him thoroughly pinning him still even if he wanted to squirm away.
“Yes, Your Grace?” He stammered.
“A templar must remain ever watchful. Eyes forward, boy.” The Grand Cleric snapped as she passed by him. “If I catch you again it will be a week of kitchen duty.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Ever watchful.” He could hear some snickering from some of the other recruits off to his right. Alistair tried to ignore them. Grand Cleric Hannah had made it abundantly clear on several occasions that Alistair was on his own when it came to defending himself from the other recruits. If the Grand Cleric could have done an eye roll she would have instead she walked by without a second glance at him.
He was use to the treat from Hannah. She knew who he was…she knew about his father, and she had made it a point of telling most of the mothers and sisters with the Chantry as well. His heritage was the most well known secret in the Chantry. As soon as Hannah was passed Alistair relaxed and rolled his shoulders. Yet his eyes darted to the families still leaving through the doors. He watched as a father of two small children, a boy and girl, hefted the little boy up onto his shoulders while the girl begged for the same treatment.
His heart clenched with jealousy at the two small ones. He wished fervently that he had a father like that. Some nobody farmer or merchant who would have hoisted him up onto his shoulders and carried him away laughing and joking about nothing in particular. Instead, he was the bastard son of king. A great king from what he knew and had been told of the man, but an absent father.
“Don’t think your going to escape that way. They seal the doors shut after everyone leaves just in case someone gets a brilliant idea to run away screaming.” Brother Rhys said coming to stand at his elbow. Alistair looked away from the happy family whose smiles and joyous laughter made him want to run after them screaming to take him away too or worst yet he could fill himself wanting to give into the dark voice in his head that was crying out that he should be the one walking out the door and away from this place. He should be free to live his own life.
“I wasn’t thinking about running, Brother.” Alistair growled anger at his whole situation boiling to the surface. He left his darker self show through for a moment.
“You know if you used that tone of voice with half of the recruits you wouldn’t have to worry about them harassing you so much.” Rhys stated.
Alistair glared at him. Brother Rhys’ was too carefree to have vowed his life to Chantry. What brought him here? Alistair wondered for the tenth million time as he felt his anger ebbing away. His jealousy was left plain on his face. He glanced away looking for the family that should have been his.
“Ahh, I see. You want what you can never have.” He clapped Alistair on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, lad. We all have our dark fantasies.” Brother Rhys said as he turned away heading toward the living quarters.
Alistair rolled his eyes. He couldn’t possibly understand. He never has to worry about fitting in or being protected by anyone because of who his father is. Alistair sighed and shook his head. No, there was no one who could understand what it’s like to be treated differently because of some person he had never meant and was likely to never meet.
Brother Rhys stopped and yelled back over his shoulder. “You coming, lad? Or are you planning on trying to make a mad dash for it?”
Alistair gritted his teeth he hated the away Brother Rhys’ treated him too. But it was better than Grand Cleric Hannah or his fellow recruits.
“Yes, I’m coming.” He replied but not without an envious look backwards toward the family he would never have.
Alistair watched as the Chantry goers filtered out of the large wooden doors at the far end of the building. His eyes roamed the crowd of followers with envy. They were free to live their lives as they choose too. Alistair would have traded all the gold in Thedas plus his cursed heritage for a moment in their simplistic lives. Sighing he turned his attention back toward the scapulae. He would be scouring the kitchens for a week if Grand Cleric Hannah caught him unaware.
The Grand Cleric seemed to have it out for him. She was constantly berating him or finding things for him to do besides his templar training. And half the time he hadn’t even deserved the punishment she dealt him.
“Alistair!”
He jumped back to attention as Hannah’s voice rang out. Sweet Andraste, what could I have done now. He wondered as the elderly woman approached him at a steady gait. Her cold gray eyes pierced him thoroughly pinning him still even if he wanted to squirm away.
“Yes, Your Grace?” He stammered.
“A templar must remain ever watchful. Eyes forward, boy.” The Grand Cleric snapped as she passed by him. “If I catch you again it will be a week of kitchen duty.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Ever watchful.” He could hear some snickering from some of the other recruits off to his right. Alistair tried to ignore them. Grand Cleric Hannah had made it abundantly clear on several occasions that Alistair was on his own when it came to defending himself from the other recruits. If the Grand Cleric could have done an eye roll she would have instead she walked by without a second glance at him.
He was use to the treat from Hannah. She knew who he was…she knew about his father, and she had made it a point of telling most of the mothers and sisters with the Chantry as well. His heritage was the most well known secret in the Chantry. As soon as Hannah was passed Alistair relaxed and rolled his shoulders. Yet his eyes darted to the families still leaving through the doors. He watched as a father of two small children, a boy and girl, hefted the little boy up onto his shoulders while the girl begged for the same treatment.
His heart clenched with jealousy at the two small ones. He wished fervently that he had a father like that. Some nobody farmer or merchant who would have hoisted him up onto his shoulders and carried him away laughing and joking about nothing in particular. Instead, he was the bastard son of king. A great king from what he knew and had been told of the man, but an absent father.
“Don’t think your going to escape that way. They seal the doors shut after everyone leaves just in case someone gets a brilliant idea to run away screaming.” Brother Rhys said coming to stand at his elbow. Alistair looked away from the happy family whose smiles and joyous laughter made him want to run after them screaming to take him away too or worst yet he could fill himself wanting to give into the dark voice in his head that was crying out that he should be the one walking out the door and away from this place. He should be free to live his own life.
“I wasn’t thinking about running, Brother.” Alistair growled anger at his whole situation boiling to the surface. He left his darker self show through for a moment.
“You know if you used that tone of voice with half of the recruits you wouldn’t have to worry about them harassing you so much.” Rhys stated.
Alistair glared at him. Brother Rhys’ was too carefree to have vowed his life to Chantry. What brought him here? Alistair wondered for the tenth million time as he felt his anger ebbing away. His jealousy was left plain on his face. He glanced away looking for the family that should have been his.
“Ahh, I see. You want what you can never have.” He clapped Alistair on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, lad. We all have our dark fantasies.” Brother Rhys said as he turned away heading toward the living quarters.
Alistair rolled his eyes. He couldn’t possibly understand. He never has to worry about fitting in or being protected by anyone because of who his father is. Alistair sighed and shook his head. No, there was no one who could understand what it’s like to be treated differently because of some person he had never meant and was likely to never meet.
Brother Rhys stopped and yelled back over his shoulder. “You coming, lad? Or are you planning on trying to make a mad dash for it?”
Alistair gritted his teeth he hated the away Brother Rhys’ treated him too. But it was better than Grand Cleric Hannah or his fellow recruits.
“Yes, I’m coming.” He replied but not without an envious look backwards toward the family he would never have.