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[bringspeopletogether]

Amaranthine was just as much of a mess as Ysa promised. Alistair missed the darkspawn horde -- the talking darkspawn horde -- by less than an hour. The new Warden-Commander still had blood on her face when she greeted him. Her people handled themselves admirably in their first trial, though: her, the handful of recruits already at Vigil's Keep...

And an apostate.

The apostate. Anders.

Maker help them.

The Wardens operate independently of the crown. Alistair encouraged, but couldn't force, a conscription. He was lucky Warden-Commander Kader seemed to be of the same mind: sending Anders back to the Circle would do more harm than good. Keep a close watch on him, Alistair said to Kader, quietly, before he left. The Wardens of Ferelden have lost too much already. We need every able-bodied recruit we can get.

He had to hope that'd be enough. Maybe if she could create a home for Anders, better than Ysa did, a place good enough that he wouldn't feel the need to run --

Alistair spent the entire return to Denerim hoping.

But now, after almost three months on the road, he's back at the palace -- and back at Milliways, pushing open the door with a relieved sigh. For once, he's in his full royal regalia, including the mantle and crown. He's not alone, either: at his heels, a fawn-colored mabari puppy follows, eyes wide, nose lifted to sniff the air. This is a part of the palace he's never seen before!! SO MANY NEW SMELLS.

"All right," says Alistair, smiling, and crouches to cup the dog's chin in one hand. "This place is a secret between you and me, yes? Don't tell Master Denton?"

Brother Fuzzy yips.

"Good boy."

Hey, pretty soon, the royal mabari's going to be accompanying the king everywhere he goes. That includes the tavern at the end of the world. Best he get used to it now.

Comments

[freedom_is_grey]

Hello new friend! Liranan breezes past Alistair on his way to greet the tiny mabari at the king's side.

Because there are things that must be explained about Milliways! Two-legged people always get it wrong!

Ysa follows at a more sedate pace, mouth quirking at one corner.

"Alistair, you're looking well. I hope that's actually true in practice, as well?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Wait. WAIT. This is a new mabari! Fuzzy hasn't met this one before! HELLO NEW FRIEND. Who are you??

While Alistair doesn't brighten quite as much as the six-month-old puppy by his side, he definitely grins as he straightens to his feet. "Ysa! Hello. Yes, much better -- finally back home, finally able to rest a bit. It's been a while."

At least, compared to how frequently Alistair's visited Milliways in the past.

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysa is his person! He is Liranan! You are a puppy! Do you want to play? There is a lot of enthusiastic panting and tail-wagging happening, but thankfully no barking, at least not from Liranan.

Ysalwen, meanwhile, lets her smile broaden more than a little at Alistair's pleased-seeming greeting.

"Please tell me you weren't putting down any armed uprisings? I was always surprised, you know, that Orlais never really tried anything, immediately after. Orlais proper, I mean, not the Wardens."

[bringspeopletogether]

Yes! He would love to play! He has to stay very close to his own person, because his person is the king and it's Fuzzy's job to make sure nobody hurts him, but as long as they play right here that should be fine!

Fuzzy punctuates all this with a yip and an attempt to tackle Liranan's tail.

"Maker, no, nothing like that." Alistair scrubs a hand through the front of his hair, accidentally knocks the crown an inch askew, and quickly straightens it again. "Thankfully. No, this was the big tour to see how everyone's been faring in-person. I'm sure you'll be shocked to hear that the answer is 'not great.'"

(The last is a bit dry.)

"But it's getting better."

[freedom_is_grey]

Liranan swings his hindquarters around, moving his tail out of range of the puppy and also leaving himself in a position to deliver a careful shoulder-check to the tiny mabari. Close to their people he can do!

Good times!

"Better is a start."

She exhales, scrunching her eyes shut for a moment, then opens them again and studies Alistair a little more carefully.

"Do you know where you want to take them from here? Or is it difficult enough to hear yourself think over the shouting of all your advisors?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair still feels that reflexive twitch in the back of his mind: ugh, no, please no more talk about ruling. Gentle, but firm, he pushes it aside.

"I have some ideas," he says, as Fuzzy lets out another excited yap and tries to run circles around Liranan. "We've more supplies to distribute, that's the easiest bit -- it'll be sent out a lot like the manpower was, by order of need. There's a more detailed survey underway to assess the land. What I'm hoping is we'll find enough space to resettle the refugees we lost. If we can't...that'll get more complicated."

(He hasn't quite realized that he's standing a little straighter, as he relays all this. That he doesn't look quite as buried under all that royal regalia.)

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen doesn't smile, because that's patronizing and terrible, but -- it's good to see him settling into his current (and maybe future) role.

Settling into himself, even. A bit.

(It's 9:36 Dragon for Ysalwen, which may explain a few things.)

"Once your survey is done, maybe we could compare with the one done on my world, just -- well. I'm curious if it's all really the same, or -- "

Andraste grant it be different. More and more significantly different than anything she and Alistair and Cullen and Cassandra have shared amongst themselves so far. It --

Maybe then things can be changed. Somehow.

[stilljustandrew]

"Oh hey, Alistair, how've you oh my gosh is that your puppy?"

(Priorities.)

[bringspeopletogether]

(The most true and best priorities. No self-respecting Fereldan would complain!)

Alistair beams. "Hello. And yes," he says. "This is Brother Fuzzy. Brother Fuzzy, Andrew. He's a friend."

Hello! Hello, Andrew! If you don't mind, Fuzzy will trot over for a closer investigation just to make sure the king's right and you really are a friend!

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew does not mind ONE BIT and will in fact crouch down to facilitate this investigation.

"Well hi there, Brother Fuzzy. -- Is that 'Brother' like a clerical title?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"It is," he says; his smile's turned a bit more sheepish. "It started as a joke, and, well...soon he wouldn't answer to anything else."

Fuzzy whuffs, quietly, and tries to put his front paws on Andrew's shoulders so he can sniff his hair.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew does his best to allow it, but the resulting hunch is slightly awkward and non-sustainable. (His hair smells a little like a New York city street: car exhaust and asphalt and truly mind-boggling numbers of humans and the remains of a street-vendor hot pretzel with mustard, and also a little like coconut-oil shampoo.)

"I don't think I knew your world had religious orders," he says, with some interest.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Really?" Andrew's interest, meets Alistair's surprise. "...I guess I never really brought it up, did I. Huh."

Some of those things don't smell particularly good to Brother Fuzzy, but a few do smell like food. He gives Andrew's forehead an experimental lick, just to see.

"We've got the Chantry. Followers of the Maker, Andraste, all that."

[feminine_menace]

When Alistair and Brother Fuzzy come in, YT is on the other side of the bar reading the latest issue of Thrasher magazine.

She visibly straightens when she hears Brother Fuzzy go yip and somewhere on the inside of her brain the word "PUPPY" lights up. YT will now be inexorably drawn to the source of that yip like a moth to a flame.

YT puts the magazine (with its ads for the newest smartwheels and long-form article about cross-country traffic surfing) aside and goes searching for the puppy that she knows must be here.

[bringspeopletogether]

A few more excited yips sound from somewhere around the middle of the bar, like little radar pings. Brother Fuzzy is doing his best to remain professional and a Very Good Dog, but there is only so much one six-month-old puppy can take. He needs to smell everything. It's not even for the king's safety, it's because HE NEEDS TO SMELL EVERYTHING.

Which, in pretty short order, includes YT's feet. Hello! You don't smell anything like the palace.

(Alistair's a few paces behind, struggling not to laugh at Fuzzy's enthusiasm.)

[feminine_menace]

YT's feet smell predominantly of asphalt and car exhaust, which is definitely not like the palace.

"Hi there!" YT says to Brother Fuzzy in a genuinely cheerful voice that she only uses for dogs. She squats down so she's more on the puppy's level and offers him her hands for examination.

(She hasn't registered Alistair yet because PUPPY.)

[OOC: I have to go to bed now but I can pick up again tomorrow!]

[bringspeopletogether]

(Alistair can always respect a set of priorities that goes "puppy first, everything else second.")

Fuzzy gives both her hands the thorough investigation they deserve -- it involves a few more whuffs, a lot of excited sniffing, and maybe a lick or two for good measure -- while his tail pinwheels happily. Can he extend that investigation to licking her face? Let's find out!

"Fuzzy," says Alistair, kind but firm.

...or maybe his person will remind him he's supposed to be a professional, because while he loves his person, his person is also a gigantic fun-ruiner. Fuzzy backs off a step or two; his tail keeps wagging, hopeful.


[ooc: of course! sleep well <3]

[feminine_menace]

There's a person attached to this puppy? Oh, right. There would be.

From her almost-ground-level vantage point, YT sees Alistair's feet first. As she gets to her feet, her eyes travel upward, doing an automatic threat assessment. Fancy cape, crown, and...hasn't she seen this guy somewhere before? She can't remember where.

"Um. Hi?" she says, still trying to place him.

[bringspeopletogether]

"...Hello."

Alistair's frowning a little, doing the same paging through his mental catalogue of faces. She looks really familiar. It's not just the background familiarity of two people going to the same tavern, either; did they speak once in passing? Or --

Wait. Wait. That's it.

"Hang on." He points at her, starting to smile. "You're Rapid Radish, aren't you?"

She's older than that picture RR sent all those months ago, but that's definitely where he's seen her before.

[howtoactfereldan]

A gray mabari trots up to the bar nearby, and barks!

...and barks again!

Shortly thereafter, a small platoon of waitrats presents a square package, wrapped in furoshiki, to Ci, who wags her tail, sinking down on the floor, chin between her paws. Wouldn't do to scare them. They're very nice.

(Cullen is in an armchair by the fire, his eyes closed. He got his ass handed to him by Cassandra in the practice ring again. It was a good workout. But he's... not moving.

Hence Ci getting creative. If Cullen won't look after himself, somebody has to.)

[bringspeopletogether]

Fuzzy's ears perk up. THERE'S ANOTHER MABARI IN HERE.

And it's been a very exciting day -- his person finally came home, they're at a new place, there's a dog he doesn't know somewhere nearby -- so perhaps Fuzzy can be forgiven if he breaks away from Alistair to investigate. Hello! Hello new mabari! Fuzzy's never met you before! How are you? You...smell like...

...wait.

Fuzzy knows that smell.

As the puppy slows, ears flattening, Alistair finally catches up -- and mutters, "Oh, shit," when he sees Ci.

[howtoactfereldan]

...who is this whippersnapper? And what is he thinking, getting friendly and then stopping short?

Ci sniffs, haughtily -- and then spies Alistair. She saunters right past the cheeky little upstart, tail wagging in cheerful greeting, furoshiki-wrapped package still held between her teeth.

[bringspeopletogether]

Shit, shit, shit.

"Hello, Ci, yes, lovely to see you again, maybe let's not see each other right this instant -- "

Alistair's half-whispered babbling gets cut off by Fuzzy dashing back to the king's side. The puppy cuts off Ci's path, plants himself right in front of Alistair's feet, and bares his teeth in a snarl.

Back off, buddy. Fuzzy bit the person who smelled like you do, and HE'LL DO IT AGAIN.

[howtoactfereldan]

Oh really?

Ci's bigger, smarter, and has more sense than to pick a fight here and now.

That said, don't start none, won't be none is sort of the general raison d'être of mabari.

She drops the package to her side, hackles raised, and growls, low in her throat, fixed not on Alistair but on that thing. He's got a chance to stop this.

(By the fire, Cullen sits up in his armchair, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He hasn't noticed there's a problem. But he's visible from where the showdown's taking place.)

[bringspeopletogether]

"Fuzzy, enough."

In his attempt to de-escalate the situation, Alistair forgot to keep his voice down for a moment there. He leans to put a hand on the puppy's back. "Don't bother Ci. Sit."

Once Fuzzy's calmed down a little, they'll leave. It's...sort of working so far. Fuzzy's still got his ears pressed back, but he's stopped snarling, so --




Aaaaand that movement out of the corner of Alistair's eye is definitely Cullen waking up from a nap.

Damn it.

"Ci, go back to Cullen," he tries.