Being a Grey Warden was just about all that Duncan was. He had quickly become a leader amongst his fellow Wardens, guiding them against Blight and Darkspawn. It had become routine at this point; recruiting others, to battling Darkspawn, and celebrating when the moment allowed it.

It wasn’t until Ostagar that a for a brief moment the routine was changed, broken even. Several other Wardens had been mumbling about your return, saying that you’d arrived not long after Duncan had left to find more recruits to aid their cause. He didn’t believe them at first, you had made it clear that you were needed elsewhere and did not foresee yourself returning until your Calling. That had been many years ago, and while he didn’t want to get his hopes up, he found himself hoping as he trailed through the camp.

You were by the mabari, because of course you were. Gentle hands scratching behind the war dog’s ears, a notion that was completely ridiculous while so entirely you. You looked nearly the same, expect maybe a little bit older with more matured features compared to when he last saw you.

He thought of his youth briefly, how the pair of you had scampered through the streets of Val Royeaux together and meeting again as Wardens for two very different reasons.

With his feet three steps ahead of his mind, Duncan approached swiftly, moving to the fence as he leant his body against it and peered inside. He couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement, watching the way you paused in your crouched position and looked up at him. Your lips curved in surprised ‘O’ shape and your eyes had grown slightly. It seems he was not alone in his feelings after all.

“Hello again, Warden.”