Wilder

.

.

VI

.

.

"Well that was… interesting," Dmitri muttered as the group walked further into camp.

The sun had long since set and from the position of the moon in the sky it was close to midnight. The large bonfires dotted around the camp sent the area into soft orange light which would have been calming if it weren't for the general sense of unease that permeated the air. If Alistair looked around it wasn't difficult for him to find groups of soldiers laughing and joking with one another, but it was… not quite right, their laughs were too tight, too forced, their gestures were too restricted as if they were holding themselves back, and their smiles didn't quite penetrate the stress darkening their eyes.

"Do you reckon we should tell Duncan about Morrigan and her mother?" Jory wondered.

Anouk shook her head, "It does not matter. We have what we went into the Wilds for, I see no reason to explain how we got them."

"She's right," Dmitri said with a nod. "The treaties aren't tampered with, we weren't turned into toads -" he threw an incredulous smirk to Daveth, "- and we're all alive, so I don't see how it matters."

Alistair was silent ahead of them, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The encounter with Morrigan's mother left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He pondered over the news she shared with them - that the threat of this Blight was worse than anyone was willing to acknowledge. The problem was that he did not know how much weight to give to her words, after all, it wasn't a secret that the army had won several battles against the darkspawn and Morrigan's mother did seem a little… insane.

And then there was Anouk's reaction to the old woman. Alistair had seen her go pale and she refused to step from beyond the back of their group; her hands twitching near her hatchets and occasionally venturing to her wrist to rub a charm on the bracelet she wore there. He cast a glance over his shoulder to the Chasind girl, eyes cast down watching the ground as she walked and clutching to her chest the armor she had managed to find in a Chasind cache. She didn't look good, the sickness was progressing rapidly - he could already see the iridescent shine in her eyes and the pox-like blotches on her skin were becoming more noticeable.

He turned away his eyes finding Duncan as the Warden-Commander called out to them. "You've returned, have you been successful?"

They all came to a stop before Duncan's fire much in the same manner as they had before they left for the Wilds what felt like days ago. It seemed to Alistair that being before Duncan again, knowing that their tasks were complete, all the fervor leaked from the recruits and the four of them looked so worn down and ragged.

"Yes, we have," Dmitri confirmed, holding out his vial of blood.

"Excellent," Duncan said, nodding in approval as he reached for the vial. "I have had the mages preparing, with the blood you've brought back we can begin the Joining immediately."

"Can we know more about this… ritual now?" Anouk wondered, her voice growing weaker. Her cure was in the Joining, her interest in the ritual was more serious than the others'.

Duncan nodded and became solemn, "I shall not lie, the Grey Wardens bear a great burden and pay a heavy price to become what we are, one that not all are willing to pay. It is possible that fate decree you pay your price now rather than later."

His words hung between them for a long second and Alistair was sure that they were wondering if they were translating Duncan's morbid ambiguity correctly. Dmitri regained himself before Jory, Daveth, and Anouk. "I'm sorry… you're saying this ritual could kill us? " he asked, his voice laced with equal amounts of apprehension and outrage.

"As could any darkspawn you might face in battle. You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you had a chance to survive."

"Let's go, then," Daveth said at length. "I'm anxious to see this Joining now."

"I agree," said Jory. "Let's have it done."

"Then let us begin." Duncan announced with a nod. "Alistair, take them to the old temple and I shall join you when everything is ready."

.

.

The din of conversation buzzed around Anouk as she paced. If she stopped moving for even a moment, Anouk feared that for all the nervous energy coursing through her, that her body would attempt to flee in every direction at once, tearing her apart.

She was not ready to die. She was not ready for it the day death was heavy in the air the night her village perished, and she was not ready for it now. She mumbled under her breath as she paced, ten steps one way and ten steps back, asking for inner peace, for strength, for her mind to be calm and her hands steady. But it would not do, her words were not reaching the Great Spirit.

The hand that came on the back of her shoulder nearly caused Anouk's heart to fail. She spun, arm outstretched as she gripped the hand on her shoulder, but Alistair's free hand caught Anouk's wrist before her fist made contact. "I hadn't meant to scare you," he said.

Anouk dropped her hand, took a step back and hissed, "Most people do not find it so easy to startle me, I wouldn't suggest trying a second time."

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Alistair said, offering her a friendly smile.

She made a noise at the back of her throat and crossed her arms. "I've learned that this could kill me, I am not exactly… anxious for it." Alistair nodded and Anouk saw the same dark thing flicker through his gaze before he averted it and self-consciously tucked his body to shy away from her. "… Should you not be comforting me?"

"Would it make you feel better?" he inquired.

Shaking her head she replied, "Tla."

He nodded, "I meant to ask you, why do you think Morrigan's mother protected the Grey Warden treaties?"

"Flemeth? I cannot say," Anouk offered. "It could be as she as she says, that the Blight threatens all, but that is only part of it - she is more powerful than you or I can fathom and could easily flee the Wilds. She would not have returned them if she did not have more than a fleeting interest in seeing the Grey Wardens succeed. Flemeth is not known for her kindness, she likely kept them because she saw them being useful to the Grey Wardens and saw the Grey Wardens being useful to her to achieve something she wants."

Alistair nodded thoughtfully processing her words, but as he took a breath to speak Anouk motioned behind him where Duncan was cresting the steps. He turned to look over his shoulder, nodding to Anouk and looking ten years older for the solemnity that overcame his features. As the group gathered around Duncan the only person who looked mildly at ease was Dmitri, but it was a quickly cracking façade considering the puckering between his brows.

"It has not been an easy path to come here, but finally we've come to the Joining," Duncan said, passing through the group. In his hands he held a large, ornately engraved silver chalice; however, the smell emanating over the rim of the cup was foul, bitter and sour.

It smelled of Death.

Anouk heard her heartbeat in her ears, heard it skip a beat now and then from the sickness slowly killing her. She listened to Duncan's speech about the first Grey Wardens and the first Blight. And she felt the blood in her veins freeze over when Duncan told them the first Grey Wardens drank the darkspawn blood, overcame the taint of it in their veins and used the power it gave them to defeat the first Archdemon.

"We're going to drink the blood of those… creatures!" Jory exclaimed, his face paling.

Anouk's outrage on the other hand could not be vocalized. Her protests stayed locked in her throat, but her eyes darted around seeking an exit. She could not - would not - willingly take that which destroyed everything she loved into her body. She would not allow the Dark Ones to corrupt her further.

Alistair had strategically placed himself before the stairs and the archway that led back into the camp, without that exit the only escape was for her to fling herself over the ramparts. He was strong Anouk knew, strong enough to overpower her, but he wasn't as fast as Anouk not nearly as agile, could she outmaneuver him? His shield arm was the weak spot, she could hook a hatchet on the edge of his shield, wrench it away possibly breaking his arm in the process. Would they all attempt to stop her or would she find an ally in Jory who had been growing more unsure as the day went on.

"The Grey Wardens have always done what they must to defeat the Blight," Duncan replied by way of justification. "While it is true that not all who drink the blood survive, those that do are forever changed."

"The darkspawn blood allows us to sense their taint in all things, and we can use it to find and kill the Archdemon," Alistair explained from his position.

"This is also why the Joining his a secret - this is the price we pay," Duncan finished. He took a breath before he continued, "There are only a few words that are spoken before the Joining, but these words have been said since the first… Alistair, if you would please?"

With a nod, Alistair lowered his head and closed his eyes. He seemed to be steeling himself and when he spoke, his voice was quiet, reverent, almost as though he was saying prayer. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry out the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten… and that one day, we shall join you."

Alistair's voice died on the wind, but the whisper of his words lingered between them as the recruits took a moment to understand and contemplate. He looked up to Duncan, the expression on his face as akin to a child seeking a parent's approval, searching for any sign that he had done well. The older man gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head and despite the situation Alistair glowed with pride.

"Daveth, step forth," Duncan said, turning to face him.

Daveth took a steadying breath and inched forward just enough to reach out and take the chalice between his shaking fingers before he raised it to his mouth. He swallowed and handed it back to Duncan. Everyone seemed to hold their breath and for a terribly long moment, nothing happened. An arrogant smirk began to pull one corner of Daveth's mouth as he stood a little straighter.

Suddenly, all at once his face crumpled into a mask of pain, his legs could no longer bear his weight. Then, he began to scream and Anouk resisted the urge to clamp her hands to her ears, the sound was surely tearing his vocal chords to shreds; the veins of his neck popped against his skin from the force of it. He clawed at his throat, at the stone ground until there were angry scratches marring his neck, and blood left behind on the stone from his fingertips, from where his fingernails had given way and broken.

His body tried to resist, tried to preserve itself even as the blood spread through his body, blackening his veins as they spider webbed across his skin; Daveth hunched forward and began to violently expel the poisonous blood from his system making everyone take a step back. When his body had no more fight left in it, he began to seize, his eyes rolling to the back of his head until finally, mercifully, he became still with death.

"I'm sorry, Daveth," Duncan whispered, his face twisted in remorse.

Anouk's hands were clenched in fists so tightly she could feel her fingernails cutting into her palms and she tasted blood between her teeth from the inside of her cheek as she stared at Daveth unable to tear her gaze away. Frozen in place from horror, her stomach rolled threatening to make her sick and her heart now somehow beating more frantically from fear behind the basket of her ribcage.

In her peripheral vision, she watched Jory take several retreating steps, shaking his head vigorously. Duncan turned to the man, "Step forward, Jory."

He shook his head harder, "No. You ask too much, there's no glory in this -"

Duncan took a predatory step toward Jory who had backed into a wall and drawn his sword. "There is no going back."

"I have a wife… a-a child! You can't ask this!"

Slowly, Duncan set the chalice down and drew one of his daggers. Anouk turned away, knowing what was going to happen before it did. There were two clashes of metal meeting metal, then the sound of it scraping against the concrete and finally the wet, gasping sound that Jory made as Duncan ran him through.

"I am sorry, Jory." With a sigh, Duncan sheathed his blade and took up the chalice once again turning to Anouk. "Step forward, Anouk."

She felt herself begin to shake her head, felt her foot move backwards and she was aware of repeating the word "no" over and over again under her breath. Duncan's eyes flashed the same deadly glint they had at Jory's refusal and she wondered how far backwards she could get before Duncan closed the distance.

A hand closed around her elbow and her head whipped around to face Alistair, his face screwed up in remorse. "Anouk please," he whispered, his voice thick with his plea. "It is the only way to cure you."

And now Anouk understood the thing she had seen in Alistair's gaze when he averted his eyes. It was guilt. He knew what the Joining involved and although he wanted to tell her he was unable.

"Taking more of the taint into me is a cure?" she countered.

"You would let the sickness take you though we offer you a cure? Are you truly that stubborn?" he replied.

"You have been called upon to submit yourself to the taint, Anouk," Duncan said. "Grey Wardens are the only ones who can defeat the Blight, and as a Grey Warden you will be able to fully visit vengeance on them for what they did to your tribe."

Of course, how could Anouk have forgotten? She was bound to exact revenge on those who trespassed against her tribe - she was the only one who remained. It was her duty. If she died, whether by the sickness or the poisonous blood she would never have a restful afterlife. And conversely, if she lived and did not exact the revenge her tribe deserved their faces would haunt her dreams demanding that blood be repaid in blood.

She turned her attention to Duncan, then to the cup in his hands wondering how much longer she could hesitate before he took the same measures he had with Jory. She saw the faces of her tribe flicker through her mind, heard their voices in her head meshing in tandem with the screams of their demise. This was what she had to do.

Anouk swallowed thickly and reached for the cup, her hands shaking violently. The black liquid bubbled and undulated in the chalice, thick as sap. With a brief, silent prayer she tipped the chalice back, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to run down her cheeks.

She felt the bile rise at the back of her throat the instant the hot liquid touched her tongue, but she forced it back down past her gag reflex. It hit her stomach and sat there like a warm coal, smoldering. As with Daveth, for a moment nothing happened, for a moment Anouk felt fine - the burning in her blood, the heat in her skin, the fatigue and her headache were all gone.

And then, suddenly, Anouk realized she had never known pain before in her life. A sudden twisting, sharp pain exploded in her gut as if she had been stabbed making her clutch her stomach. She didn't recall hitting the ground, but the warm coal in her stomach exploded and her skin erupted in flame ten times hotter than the fever and Anouk marveled at the fact that she didn't smell burning flesh. The slicing pain cut through her, tore within her, shredding everything in her. She wanted to scream, to have an outlet for the pain but the sound locked itself in her throat and it was all Anouk could do to even breathe. Everything around her was spinning, and she found herself trying to grip the ground before she fell off the world.

As if the pain wasn't enough, there was a cacophony of sound and visions wrecking havoc in Anouk's head. Shadows danced and twirled with whispers and screams, twisting around and around. Flames crackled, flickering and casting terrifying, nightmarish silhouettes onto the walls of her subconscious. A light penetrated the darkness, merely a pinprick at first then grew larger, came closer and dismissed the silhouettes, replacing them with a somehow sentient haze that licked and caressed her.

And when the deafening roar shattered through the shadows, the darkness fell away revealing the twisted dragon in all its horror. It turned its gaze on Anouk and it saw her, she felt it. Anouk thought she saw a ghost of a smile cross the thing's face (but did dragons smile?), and again it gave an ear splitting roar in her direction.

Finally, Anouk was greeted with darkness.

Annd finally the Joining. I hope I did it justice!

Battle of Ostagar next chapter!

Not a whole lot to say today, except thank you
to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Cibiripilli,
Dhallhenn, Judy, and karinfan123. You guys are awesome!

See you next chapter! :)

-(gxr)-