Holy cow. It's been a while hasn't it? Such things happen when life rears it's ugly head. But I'm back and hopefully in form. As always a huge thank you to my fantastic and wonderful editor alyssacousland for making this readable for the masses. Thanks to all of you who take the time out of your day to read this fic of mine. Enjoy!

Ostagar army camp
November 10th 2009
12:30 am

Jessica

As I followed the other wardens in to the old tower, a sense of dread washed over my entire body. My steps became heavy, breathing felt like a chore and the knot in the pit of my stomach made keeping food down difficult. This damn Joining and the mystery surrounding the whole thing is nerve-wrecking. Any ceremony involving darkspawn blood, magic and maker knows what other mystery ingredients can surely not bode very well for those involved. Also, the looks of pity on nearly every warden I passed was not in the least bit encouraging. But that might just be my overactive imagination.

Working through my bodily dysfunctions, we all reach the highest level of the tower. Alistair urges me to stand in the center of the room while the wardens form a circle around me. Now I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. I do my best to outwardly hide apprehensiveness. Since I can't see my own face I really don't know how well that's working out, but hopefully my best stone soldier face is coming through.

"Duncan should be here at any moment." Alistair knowingly informed all of us.

"Yes." I said, trying to keep my voice steady and even. "I assumed as much. I just want to get this over with."

I hear a sardonic snort coming from my right. My eyes follow the sound. I'm not at all surprised to find an amused dwarf girl staring me down.

"They really will let just anyone become a warden now days." She sneered. A half smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. "When the bottom of the barrel is scraped with actual talent they bring in little rich girls to fill the void. Daddy must have paid an ass-load to get you here, Miss Priss."

This accusation is nothing new. I've heard it my whole military career. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me, but it would be a waste of time to beat the ever living shit out of every single person who implied I have more riches than talent. Not to say the first several men who said those exact same words didn't end up in the hospital with some broken bone or another,

"You'll have to forgive her. She was raised in the ass crack of Orzammar where manners are hardly encouraged," said the male dwarf standing next to her. Judging by the way he spoke, he was hardly raised in the "ass crack of Orzammar". This earned him a deathly glare from mouthy counterpart.

"Go piss up a rock Aeducan." The dwarf barked. "Had you not gone and murdered good old king daddy and your brother, I'd be saying the same to thing to you."

Well, well. Isn't this group full of interesting beings. We're all going to kill each other before we even get to any darkspawn.

"Would a fight in order to test my worth make your day a little brighter?" I ask her before the red -faced dwarf with murder in his eyes could speak.

Turning her attention back to me, a wide-knowing grin spread across her face. "And rob you of your Joining?" She said followed by a short laugh. "I wouldn't dream of it. But if you survive, I might just take you up on that offer."

If I survive? What the fuck does that even mean? I really should have asked questions before leaping into this fire pit.

Before I could ask what she meant, Duncan came up the ramp with a chalice in hand.

"That is quite enough Marlya," He shot the dwarf a look of warning. She mumbled an apology as he walked past her. He stopped in front of me and looked down at me. A somber look in his eyes. Oh Makers ass, that isn't a good sign. "But she is right. The joining is dangerous. Few survive the ritual."

"Which is why there are so few wardens." I finish. Duncan nods in confirmation of the obvious. Even though my mind is reeling with fear and my stomach is working to keep down what little food I had, I look directly into Duncan's eyes. "Let's get this over with."

"So be it." He says as he raises the chalice before me.

I didn't hear much of what was said over the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Something about words said before every joining. Don't ask me to repeat them because I couldn't. My whole life flashed before my eyes before I reached out for the chalice. Would I really die? Was this really any better than being captured by Howe? I quickly decided it was and grabbed the chalice from Duncan.

A bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth as I drank. I've never been much of a blood or Lyrium drinker, and now I know why. At least those are the two flavors I could pick up on. There was something else my taste buds couldn't quite place. I didn't have any time to contemplate as my sight left me, and images filled my mind.

I saw millions of darkspawn underground, all cheering and shouting at a high dragon high above them. The high dragon looked directly into my eyes. Fear filled every fiber of my being looking into the pure evil in those eyes.

Then I fainted.

I don't know how long I had been unconscious. I slowly opened my eyes; Duncan's face hovered just above me. He was smiling, his eyes filled with something close to pride.

"Welcome sister. You are now a Grey Warden." He said while helping me up to my feet.

"Those are some fucked up visions aren't they?" asked a Elf in mages robes. He flashes me a sympathetic smile that just makes me want to smack him. "Everyone here has had them. Sadly, they don't get any better."

"Aren't you just the bringer of wonderful news." I mumble as I struggle to sit up. My head is still groggy, which is preventing me from doing the simplest of tasks. Duncan steps forward and extends his hand for me to grab. He slowly helps me to my feet. It takes me a moment to gathering my bearings, but it occurs to me that I feel different somehow. I'm more in tune with my surroundings and with the darkspawn wandering the woods around the camp. Is this really all there is to being a Grey Warden? Feeling darkspawn? It's kind of anti-climatic if you ask me. But that may just be my opinion.

"When you feel yourself again, I'd like it if you join me in a meeting with the king." Duncan says. Inwardly I groan because I know this meeting entails strategy, but outwardly I nod in agreement.

"Wait a minute! Why does the newbie get to sit in on a meeting? Why aren't all of us invited?" The dwarf girl protested loudly. All of the other wardens mumbled in agreement.

I look around me at all the slightly disappointed warden faces. My gaze falls upon the angry dwarf's face. I give her my best fake smile, tilting my head slightly showing her my amusement of her jealously. "I don't think he meant anything by excluding the everyone else. If you all want to sit in on a strategy meeting, then by all means join in. It should be a thrill a minute."

The anger drained from her face, but the glare remained. Most of the wardens disperse, going about their camp business. The only one to stay behind was an elf. He gives me a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, which are filled with sadness. I suppose all of us wardens have a past, some more painful than others. But he wears his pain for the world to see. I'm almost envious of his openness. But it's hardly how I was bred.

"Marlya is a little rough around the edges, but she really is nice one you make it past her judgmental stage."

"I'll have to take your word for it." I chuckle.

"I'm Marlon by the way." He said, extending his hand to me. I'm rather surprised, but I waste no time in taking his hand. They are calloused and rough."I hail from the ever fantastic and plush Alienage of Denerim." He tries to hide his bitterness, but fails miserably. Can't say I blame him. I'd be bitter too if I were considered less than a third-class citizen.

"I'm..." He didn't let me finish.

"Major Jessica Cousland." He finished for me. "Anyone with a TV, or who reads a newspaper knows that."

"Please. Just call me Jessica. I'm not a major anymore and I'm..." I trail off. I hadn't allowed myself time to think about losing my family and home. It just seemed so surreal. Like I could wake up any moment, home in my own bed with my mom yelling through my door to get myself up and ready for some important meeting.

Marlon cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. My eyes are so misty I can barely see through them. I try to speak but nothing comes. Normally I can hide my emotions better than this. The army trained me well in this respect. There was something about the way Marlon was looking at me, as if he could see right through my self-built emotional wall.

Without a word, Marlon grabs my shoulders and pulls me to his chest. I do nothing to fight him, instead I bury my face in his chest. My entire body is shaking as he strokes my hair as one would stroke a cat. His compassion mixed with the reality of everything I've lost brings the tears I've been holding back. Marlon only holds me closer.

"There's only you and me here. No one else will see you cry." He whispers in my ear. "I won't claim to know how you feel as everyone handles loss differently. I know you don't know me, but I know how it feels to lose someone you love and everyone needs that one person as a shoulder to cry on. If you don't mind an elf being that shoulder, you can come to me anytime you want."

His sweet words and understanding do nothing to stop my tears. If anything they are unstoppable now. I sob onto his shoulder. It feels as if I've been crying on his shoulder for hours. I feel comfortable with him and I'm not really sure why. It's more than his understanding. Or maybe it isn't. Again, I'm not sure, but I feel I can trust him.

I gently push myself off his shoulder. Marlon hands me a kleenex so I can wipe my eyes and my running nose.

"Thank you for being here, Marlon." He nods. "For the record, I don't care what race you are."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Then you would be the third person I've met who hasn't." He motioned towards the bottom of the tower. "Come on now, Jessica. You have a strategy meeting to attend for us."

He laughs at my childish groan of disappointment. I give my eyes one more wipe with the kleenex before trudging down the ramp way. Oh Maker's hairy balls. This is going to be a long night.

Ostagar Army Camp
November 10th 2009
1:35 am

Calian

These strategy meetings are always a pain in the ass. Especially with Loghain here undermining everything I suggest. What crawled up his ass and didn't die? Loghain is usually pushy and overbearing, but over the last month it's been worse. It's really becoming a problem. I'm thinking of sending him to Redcliffe. Let Eamon deal with him. Oh Maker, how funny would that be? Two of the biggest pains in my ass living under one roof. They'd kill each other. Hmmm...The more I think on this idea, the more I know it's nothing short of brilliant. Once we win this battle, I'll make my divorce arrangements, send Anora and her father packing off to Redcliffe and leave Ferelden in Alistair's hands. I'm sure Duncan will help my brother run things to the people's expectations. Yes. This is what I will do before I leave for Orlais. Thank goodness for pre-planning.

Loghain drones on and on as to how bad of an idea it is for me to be on the battlefield with the wardens. Blah, blah, blah. I doubt he would speak to my father like this. Hell, I'm sure Loghain would wipe my ass with his hand if I were exactly like my father. Oh the stories I've heard from both Eamon and Loghain about good old king Maric. How brave and wise he was. Now don't get me wrong, I love and respect my father as any son does. I just wish those who knew dad would stop comparing his rule to mine. We may be father and son, but we are nothing alike in any way, shape or form.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice one of the wardens approaching the war table. I recognize her as Jessica Cousland. The fact that she's here means she's survived her joining. I'm pleased that the wardens have one more to add to the dwindling numbers. I know Cousland will be a fine addition to the wardens. I'm, of course, basing this on all of the stories Bryce told me of Jessica's military career.

I've never actually had the pleasure of meeting Jessica until a few days ago. Before then, Bryce would tell me stories of his daughter. I know she was fighting the good fight in Tevinter and a major in the army. What Bryce didn't tell me is that his daughter is so damn cute. Her short red hair curves around her flawless oval face. Her eyes are slightly unnerving. I've never seen a woman with red eyes who wasn't a mage in some fashion. How very odd, yet they somehow suit her. Everything about her presence demands respect. So much so that even Loghain is silent for a time. I silently thank Jessica for that small favor.

I'm leering at her without meaning to. The way she's glaring at me only makes me more aware of this. I stand up a little straighter and clear my throat.

"I'm...ummm...glad you could join is Warden Cousland." I stammer stupidly. She nods in silent response. "I really am glad the wardens have yet another able body. We will need all the help we can get in this battle."

"Which you will be no part of, Your Highness." Loghain adds just to be an ass.

I roll my eyes and sigh. Here we go again. "I told you Loghain. We need every available man. I'm available and able to lift a sword and shoot a gun. I do believe those are required in a battle."

"Brains and the ability to plan is also important, Your Majesty." Loghain practically spat the last part as if it were a curse word. What a pretentious asshole he is.

"He is right, Your Highness." Duncan adds. I turn towards the Warden Commander. "Think for a moment. Where would Ferelden be if we were to lose you on the battlefield?"

As much as I respect Duncan, I know he is wrong. "I won't die as long as I'm with the wardens. I'm sorry, but my mind is made up."

Everyone at the table sighs.

"You place too much faith in these wardens, Your Majesty." Loghain sneers while looking at Duncan. If the Warden is disturbed he gives no indication.

I loudly slam my hands down on the table. Everyone around me jumps in surprise. "Here is what's going to happen." I say with great determination. "I will ride with the senior wardens." I point to the map. "Loghain. You and your men will flank the enemy from behind. This will close off any means of escape."

Loghain says nothing, but I can feel him silently brood next to me. At least I got him to shut the fuck up for a moment.

"The Junior Wardens will be here," I point again at the map. "The tower of Ishal. Cousland. You will be in charge of this group. Your job will be to light the fire at the top of the tower. Once it is lit, that will be Loghain's cue to enter the battle."

"You'll have to excuse my confusion, Your Majesty. But why is it necessary for ten junior wardens to light one fire?" Jessica asked.

I shake my head. "While you are well-trained in the ways of battle, the other junior wardens are not. Now there won't be any enemy resistance in the tower, so it should be a fairly easy in and out mission. Once you have lit the fire, you all may join the rest of us on the battlefield."

If looks could kill, Cousland's would kill me ten times over. If I didn't have a wife, I'd be scared.

"Now that we have a plan, we gather the troops. We have some darkspawn ass to kick tonight." I turn from the war table and walk back towards my tent. Behind me I hear a collective of groans from all around the table. I can't help but smirk a bit. Let them chew on that plan for a while. I will be on that battlefield. Maker as my witness, I will be just as famous and brave as my dear old dad.

I'm just getting my breastplate on as Loghain burst through my tent doors, looking as furious as one man could be. What a drama queen.

"May I help you Loghain?" I ask innocently. This only adds fuel on to the Loghain flame of rage.

"What are you trying to prove being out on the battlefield? That you can die just as easily as anyone else?"

I fasten the last of the belts on my breastplate before answering. "Loghain. If you're going to lecture me, I'll save you the trouble right now and have my servant show you the door."

"You're father never would have done something so foolish," he spits.

"Really? From the stories I've heard from you and others who knew dad, I'd say he was rather impulsive, even reckless. How is my plan any different than something he would come up with?"

Loghain took a deep breath. I assume this is to calm himself.

"Yes. Your father was impulsive. But he also knew when it was right to involve himself and when it wasn't. He also had a son, a solid bloodline to carry his name."

"And I wonder who's fault it is that I don't." I shoot back.

"Watch your words boy." His voice is filled with the promise of violence. I wisely decide to move on.

"I'm doing what I believe the men need. They need to see that their king isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. They need a king who is willing to fight to protect the land they themselves cherish so much. Isn't that what my father would do? Wasn't he willing to lay his life on the line for the people of a country he loved?"

"Yes. Within reason. Maric loved this country, but he never tried to make a name for himself in history books. You, on the other hand are. But if you feel this is the way to make a name for yourself, then it's obvious no amount of reason will change your mind. You better be sure your precious wardens can save your ass when you're surrounded by darkspawn. If that happens, then there won't be enough of you left to send back to your wife, much less for a burial." With that he turned and stormed out of my tent.

Man. I thought that was going to be a lot more painful. He is right about one thing. I'm tired of living in my father's shadow. I want to make a name for myself. I want my people to know that in times of need I will be there to fight for them. If a fantastic story just so happens to be written about me, then so be it.

I won't be in Ferelden long enough to enjoy the stories anyways. I think of Celene and smile. I'm unable to help myself as I pull out the letters she sent me. The letters themselves are innocent. The offer of more wardens to assist in the battle. I trace the letter with my fingers, as if I were caressing the skin of the woman who wrote it.

Her latest letter is most curious though. I just received it this morning and she writes to tell me she's changed her mind. She suddenly doesn't have any wardens to spare. Also her handwriting has changed. To the untrained eye it looks the same, but I know Celene's handwriting better than I know my own. This is not her. I have my suspicions as to who wrote this abomination of a letter, but at the moment I can hardly prove it. Anyways, I have more important matters to attend to.

"Oh Celene." I sigh as I place her letters back in the box from once they came. "For you, I will survive this battle."

I grab my sword and 45. mm handgun. I'm eager to leave the comfort of my tent behind and join my men on the battlefield.

Ostagar Army Camp
November 10th 2009
2:15 am

Loghain

What a selfish, arrogant, self absorbed prick. I think to myself as I walk into my own tent. Maric would be ashamed of his son's actions today. No matter what he might say, I know what that boy really wants is glory. He could care less about protecting Ferelden from any kind of threat. Hell. He's even called in assistance from Orlais. Of all places why Orlais? I didn't spend all of those years fighting those Orleasian bastards out of Ferelden just to ask them back to help. There are plenty of other countries to turn to for help. But then again, our King isn't sleeping with any of those countries' Empresses.

That boy knows just what to say and do to put me in a fowl mood. But, after our conversation, I am more convinced than ever that my plan is the right course of action.

Ser Cauthrien meets me at my tent doorway. She salutes and allows me to enter first. I know she will be against my plan, but in the end she will listen to me. She's faithful to a fault. She'll inwardly question why I'm doing what I'm doing, but never me aloud. This is why she's my first. Ever the faithful lapdog.

"Are the horses ready?" I bark.

"Yes my lord. As are your men. They await your orders." She stands at attention awaiting her own orders. Without sparing her a glance, I walk across the tent and ready my weapons. It's only for show at this point, as I have no intention of actually using them in such a pointless battle.

"Tell the men I will meet them at the gates."

Ser Cauthrien bows and quickly leaves the tent.

I linger in my tent, pacing the floor while thinking over my plan for any unforeseen flaws. There are none that I can see. Howe has taken control of Highever. Not really in a way I would have done, but it was his need for family revenge that drove him. I can hardly fault him for that. However, I don't plan on telling Howe that the younger Cousland child has survived. That will be his problem when the time comes. He'll be more than happy to extinguish the Cousland line for good. I, for one, will welcome it. To me they are nothing but Orlais supporters. I have no need for any of them.

People worry about the Blight, thanks to the wardens spreading the word of such nonsense. I must say, it came at the perfect time. While the people worry about monsters lurking in the woods and under beds, I'll be out fighting the real monsters of the world. Orleasians. Just the thought of those bloodless bastards fills me with such rage.

I grab a nearby knife, walk over to the map of Orlais sitting on my desk and stab the map until my anger has somewhat subsided. I will wipe that disgusting country from the map if it's the last thing I do. And Maker help whoever stands in my way.