A Heavy Burden Shared

AU: The Warden heads straight to Soldiers Peak and liberates the fortress before doing anything else with the treaties or Blight. Avernus, realising that there's a Blight on, reveals the whole truth of being a Grey Warden to both The Warden and Alistair. He stays behind at Soldiers Peak, he's kept outsiders out for nearly 200 years, and the Warden can send their armies there to amass – they'll be protected. Plus, a secret fortress on the sea is pretty handy. Knowing how important a Warden truly is to stopping the Blight, and with the knowledge on how to create the Joining Ritual, our intrepid group heads off to face the Blight – with recruitment on their minds.

Content warnings: Multiple pairings of all flavours, maybe a triad, language, mentions of abuse, mentions of sexual violence, plenty of bloodshed and death. I'm undecided on smut.

Disclaimer: All intellectual property of this fanfic belongs to Bioware/EA, and I'm just playing with their creations.

Chapter One

The sharp wind whipped her scarf up and pushed it into her face, the woollen fibres stuck to her cold lips. She glanced to her side and noted that each of the companions who stood with her faced similar issues now that they left the mostly sheltered grounds of Soldiers Peak.

She tore her gaze from them and up to the sky, still dark but for the peach clouds striping the violet and pink ombre sky that hinted at the coming dawn. She recalled that the sky looked quite different when they'd set off on their first naïve steps into combatting the Blight. Maker, but it felt like a much different quest than the one they'd decided to start less than a month ago, in the Korcari Wilds.

The red haired archer caught up to her side, and gave her a polite smile. "Good morning, Effie, I hope Avernus did not keep you both up too late last night?"

She smiled back, weakly, and shrugged her pack higher up her back. "Ah, so you didn't overhear us? Mostly he was going over the Joining Ritual. But I don't think half of it really sank in for Alistair." The two ladies looked over their shoulders and back at the tall young man trudging behind them, not out of earshot but minding his own business. He looked exhausted already, like he'd not slept, though he'd still taken the time to brush his hair. "Makers blood, he looks like I feel, Leliana. Do I look like that too?"

"When we get past the snow drifts, we should stop for lunch, we have plenty of rations and it already feels like breakfast was hours ago." Leliana braced a hand up as another gust of wind hit them, and she held fast to her hood. "A good idea, yes?"

"A great idea. It should make us all feel better." She noticed that the archer didn't answer her question.

They slipped back into a comfortable silence, and she fell back into thought. Euphemia Cousland often fell into thought, then would inevitably fall over.

There were not many of them, and she barely knew any of them beyond names and what they'd revealed of themselves to her. Though, she hoped herself a decent judge of character given her newly formed scepticism. There were only the five of them, six – if you included Faust, the mabari warhound – though that also included herself.

She, Euphemia, known as Effie, was the de facto leader of the unlikely group. The spare child of the Cousland family, well educated, well trained as a warrior, and still she'd not seen the betrayal that saw her ancestral home sacked by their closest ally and friend. Nobody had seen it coming. But a modicum of personal guilt was there, festering in the back of her throat. Now she'd been recruited into the order of the Grey Wardens and found herself tasked with ending the Fifth Blight.

Her second, though he might contest that fact, was Alistair. She knew little of him personally, and beyond a cautious questioning at Ostagar to quell her nerves, he was a stranger to her. A former Templar who was glad to be a Grey Warden. Effie thought him rather sarcastic and cheery prior to the events that saw the two of them alone in the Korcari Wilds. He was distraught after the death of Duncan, he says as much. So far, he'd been welcoming, and kind, in a distant way. In another world, she might have thought him sweet or charming in the way one thought of puppies. Faust liked the blond man, and for the moment that was a seal of approval. Effie hoped to understand him better, and maybe become his friend.

They weren't alone, per se, in the Korcari Wilds though. They'd been, well, for lack of a better phrase, given an apostate mage to look after. An unwilling apostate mage. Morrigan, was a hedge witch, a shape shifter, and apparently was the daughter of the fabled witch, Flemeth. Part of Effie believed that, though she wasn't sure if her belief had anything to do with it. Morrigan's mother saved Alistair and herself, and in exchange wanted the two wardens to look after her daughter, if any of them were happy with this arrangement or not. So whatever had come to pass, Morrigan was with them. Her speech was somewhat archaic, as if she'd learned to speak from books rather than talking, and she lacked even basic empathy. In an odd way, Morrigan was not cruel for the sake of cruelty, but did not suffer oafishness lightly. This made quick rivals of Alistair and the witch.

In Lothering, on their way north from Ostagar, they'd met Leliana. The red-haired archer was an Orlesian minstrel of sorts who had left that life behind to join the cloister as a Chantry Sister here in Ferelden. She claimed to feel that the Maker Himself compelled her to join them. Whether He did or not, Effie liked the woman. She seemed genuinely kind, and oddly mysterious. Frankly, Effie was glad for another skilled arm in combat, but she wondered how such a woman had come about these skills. The other woman put her at ease quickly, and somehow that only served to put Effie on alert, and she damned herself for it.

The last of them, though certainly not least given a height over seven foot, was the Qunari, Sten. He spoke less than anyone else, and they'd found him locked in a cage on the outskirts of Lothering, along with decaying hunks of meat – as a lure to keep the Darkspawn away. He admitted to the crime of murdering an entire family with his bare hands, and accepted his fate to die. Somehow, it seemed like such a waste. Effie smashed the lock on his cage with the pommel of her sword and told the towering Qunari that he should die as a warrior, rather than bait. This – intrigued him – to say the least. He swore to fight with them against the Darkspawn until the debt of his life and the lives he took was repaid, or he died himself. And so – that was it. He didn't complain to dig a short latrine or take watch, and was a finer warrior than any she'd had the honour of seeing at a tourney.

And one couldn't forget Faust. The runt of the litter who decided that she was a better mother than his own kin. Effie made the pup stay with his mother for the milk, but every other second since they'd bonded – was spent at her side. She'd trained him well, and he was the entire reason she'd not died when Highever was sacked. Faust was a honorary Grey Warden, given that the mabari accidentally became tainted in Ostagar and needed an ointment to survive it. Effie cursed herself for not remembering that – and would try to remember for the next time she spoke to Avernus.

The day passed quickly in thought, and they were out of the steep mountain paths and snow by dinner, though they'd not covered the distance Effie hoped they might. Soldiers Peak was a treasure trove for the coin strapped Warden group who had nothing more than their packs and weapons. The former noblewoman sat cross legged on log they'd dragged up to the fire, and poured over the map. Her brows were furrowed as she made a note of their progress and tried to figure out how long it might take to safely get to Kinloch Hold.

Alistair sat next to her, and silently handed a wooden bowl to her. Effie didn't even look before starting to eat, the flavour, even the texture didn't matter. Grey Wardens were constantly famished, it could have been stewed slug for all she cared. "It's a lot to take in. Isn't it?"

She paused. The bowl wasn't nearly as large as – wait. No. Effie carefully folded the map, and tucked it inside her breast pocket. She knew that her thoughts wandered only to avoid dwelling on it. "Yes." She finally settled on. It was her honest answer.

"Do you think, that... That Duncan was going to tell us soon?" Alistair blinked, he wasn't looking at her, his eyes were fixed on the fire, like it might divine the truth to him. Effie snuck in another spoonful of the... Beige and grey in the bowl. She'd eaten worse. "I mean, I don't think he was purposefully keeping it from... Me."

Effie sucked in a deep breath and put herself in the best mind to be neutral on the subject of their late Commander. Alistair clearly looked up to him, no matter her feelings on him, the dead couldn't make amends. "I think he was protecting you." She said diplomatically, she almost believed it. "I honestly doubt he envisioned a world were you or I might be the only two there when the Archdemon falters."

Alistair looked briefly at her, searching her face for a lie, then quickly looked back to the fire. "I have no idea how to contact other Wardens. I don't know if I have the stomach to recruit anyone now, knowing what I know." Alistair gulped. "You're planning on recruiting, aren't you?"

"It'd be foolhardy not to." She soothed, the weight of that sunk down on her shoulders. Avernus created a failsafe version of the Joining Ritual. Everyone would survive taking it. No more pointless deaths like Daveth. "We've seen firsthand how quickly our numbers can be decimated. We need better odds of a Warden making it to the Archdemon. I'll bet you It already knew this. No way would I let the only bastards who could kill me get close if I was some evil dragon God bent on taking over the world."

Alistair snorted at her attempt at glibness. "Can you imagine, it's like a mabari surrounded by ants, but there are bees."

"Like Wardens flying on Griffons."

"That would make it easier." He conceded. "And the mabari just doesn't care, because ants can't hurt it. But a bee could sting it, and – well, bees don't survive." The short lived smile fell off his face. "Why did I try to... Make such a stupid analogy?"

Effie sighed. "Humour, even a poor sense of humour, is the way you try to survive." The words sounded wiser and older than her years. "My mother used to say that about the Occupation. She would say how she couldn't stand my father and... Howe – the way they'd laugh as if it wasn't serious, like they might not die tomorrow. Until it finally twigged for her that if she didn't laugh, all she'd do was cry."

Alistair nodded along. "That makes sense." He paused a moment as if wondering what to say. "They were friends that long then?"

"Fifty years." Effie pursed her lips. "I keep thinking, wondering, if he'd planned this for years. Or if it was some fresh seed of hatred that took root in his heart. I try to marry up these two images of a man who helped teach me how to dance and who ordered his men to butcher a child." The words spilled out, and her face felt hot and taut, but her eyes were dry. "And I find myself trying to not only think of him as a monster that I've been too blind to see for all these years."

She craned her neck up at the sky, taking in deep lungfuls of breath. A selfish part of Effie wanted her to admit that she envied him, for not knowing the man who betrayed his kin – Duncan – it was obvious Alistair thought of the man like a father. She envied how he could instantly paint that man as an inhuman beast. She wasn't deaf, she heard Alistair curse the name of Loghain Mac Tir as he split dry logs for their fire. Cursed him for quitting the battle that saw the Grey Wardens fall. She wished it was that easy. "You can cry. You don't have to laugh." Alistair spoke softly, and she felt his warm hand on her shoulder.

Effie sniffed and shrugged him off. "I cried enough. I'm... Sorry for burdening you. You came to me, and I turned it all around back to my own misfortune. It doesn't matter where I've come from now. Or what dead people did or said to coddle us. We're here, the last two Wardens against the Blight. We need to rebuild our order, and an army." That was herself feeling better, she turned her attention to Alistair. "I'm sure Duncan was a very good commander and like a family to the Grey Wardens. But he's left it up to us, he recruited us both knowing what we know now. It would be disrespectful to his memory if we didn't manage to live up to whatever expectations he had."

It... Worked. Alistair looked far less burdened by the world. Left alone again, Effie returned to the cold beige and grey. She guessed that it was half barley given their rations. She'd eaten worse very recently.