The Offer
The study looked like a mausoleum: dark tapestries with battle scenes and vicious looking weapons, morose people in old paintings – from the look of it the complete ancestral line of the former lord – and bizarre hunting trophies, among them even the head of a genlock.
It was an intimidating sight and made Arik wish the seneschal asked him to wait for the Commander somewhere else; preferably somewhere, where he could be of use in the meantime. There was not one living soul in the fortress who did not feverishly try to whip the desolate place back into shape and he was not one to contently sit by and watch others do the work.
Arik was relieved when the heavy oak door finally opened after what seemed like hours and the Commander poked his head in. He was even more relieved when Ioran gestured at him to follow him out of the study, explaining that he was about to inspect the Keep and they could as well talk on the way.
"The seneschal mentioned that you were talking to the prisoner?" Arik asked. He knew it was none of his business but he was curious as of how that conversation turned out. The thief had been quite a handful and it had been more or less a happy coincidence that the wardens finally got a hold of him.
"I did, yes. Have you been there when he got captured?"
Arik laughed as he remembered that night. He never had seen anyone that fast; and not just fast but as quiet and invisible as a ghost.
"Oh Maker, yes I've been there. It took the wardens half the night. The bastard is extremely skilled. He knew what he was doing and I got the impression he knows his way around the Vigil."
The Commander shot him a knowing look.
"Oh, you'd think he would, being the son of the former Arl, would you? The Vigil is his home. Well… it was his home until his father decided to become a traitor."
Arik whistled under his breath. Samuel had told him a few stories about the Arl's eldest. He never personally met the man but what he had heard so far was interesting. Nathaniel was said to be a brilliant archer who had yet to find his match. According to the groundkeeper, he was the smartest of the three Howe children but also the most cagey. He was a brooding fellow who rarely smiled and kept to himself most of the time.
Arik would have liked to hear more about him but Ioran obviously was of a different mind because he said:
"As fascinating as that might be, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you something, Arik."
They came to a halt in a hallway near the kitchens where the walls were blackened and partly collapsed and Ioran took a moment to talk to the salvage crew at work there.
"What is it you wanted to ask me, ser?" Arik inquired when he came back.
"You know that the wardens were seriously decimated during the fight with the Darkspawn last night," Ioran began and Arik nodded. "As far as we know, only three of the Orlesian contingent are still alive and they probably will not survive the night. That means, I am hard pressed to find new recruits and you are the sort of man I am looking for. My question is, Arik, if you would be willing to undergo the Joining and become one of us. Being a warden can be hard at times and I would understand if you don't see your life's purpose in killing Darkspawn and other filth. I also don't intend to force the right of conscription on you but I would appreciate it if you considered my offer."
It was a surprising proposition; surprising and tempting, despite the warning of a hard life. Arik had always lived a soldier's life and he had no family to speak of. The last of his relatives – a distant cousin in South Reach – had died a few years back. There was nobody waiting for him and no one he needed to be considerate of.
The thought of becoming a Grey Warden had occurred to him before. He had had the chance to come to know some of them at Ostagar and they seemed to him like a capable and loyal bunch. His intentions became null and void, though, when they had all been killed in the battle and there was no order left to join. Arik did not think that he'd get another chance to become a part of the Grey, yet here it was.
"Have you spoken to Captain Garavel about your plan?"
As much as he wanted to jump at the opportunity, Arik couldn't bring himself to do so without knowing how his captain felt about this. More likely than not, Garavel would not be all too pleased to hear that the Commander wanted to recruit someone from his guard.
"I wanted to hear your opinion first," Ioran answered with a certain edge to his tone. "If you decline I will have no reason to roil the Captain. Not that he has a say in the decision, anyway."
The last part sounded defensive and Arik realized his mistake. To Ioran, it must seem as if he was questioning his authority – just like Varel had done lat night. He felt as if he owed the other man an apology as well as an explanation. It had not been Arik's intention to fuel the doubts the seneschal certainly evoked.
"Forgive me, Commander, I did not mean to offend you. It is just that I have respect for Garavel. He helped me a great deal when I first came to the Keep and I'm a guardsman after all. He's my superior and discussing this without his knowledge simply doesn't feel right."
After a moment of gloomy silence, a thin-lipped smile curved the corners of Ioran's mouth and he patted Arik on the back.
"It's alright, Arik. I guess I am a little over-sensitive right now. This whole Commander-thing is still new to me and I just want to make it right. Thanks for being honest with me, though. Which is by the way one of the reasons I'd like to have you by my side. I need someone loyal to be my right hand, someone who's willing to even knock me down a notch or two if need be. Do you think you can do that, guardsman?"
There was a challenge in those words, just like the other night when he talked to Garavel. Ioran seemed to have a knack for taking people by their pride and up until now it had worked like a charm. Arik found that he, too, was not immune to the sidekick. Fereldans naturally were a proud people. An attack on their honor seldom went unanswered.
"I think I can manage that, ser. Being allowed to pick on the Commander without retribution is certainly tempting."
The tension between them vanished into thin air when Ioran laughed; loud and strong and wholeheartedly. It sounded like the bark of a really big dog. His eyes sparkled with amusement and his whole face lit up in a way that made him look five years younger.
Arik couldn't hide his own smile. He had just learned something about his new executive. The Commander obviously was someone who appreciated a good joke and loved to laugh, a characteristic that went well with Arik's own mindset. He always tended to surround himself with people who had a sense of humor.
"So…", Ioran inquired, still smiling, "Can I take that for a yes then?"
Arik took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment longer.
Becoming a warden… Was that what he wanted? Was that something he could imagine doing for the rest of his life?
"Yes, ser. I am honored by your request and gladly accept it."
As soon as the words were out, Arik knew for certain it was the right decision. It felt good. It felt as if he had found something he did not even know he was looking for.
Life at the Keep was not bad most of the time but he was a soldier at heart. The fortress usually was a calm and uneventful place and he thought after the events at Ostagar he would enjoy the peace and quiet there. He had been wrong, though. For some time now there had been a nagging restlessness in his bones. More than once he had itched for his sword and shield and the anxiety of battle.
His thoughts wandered back to the previous day when he had fought the ogre in the courtyard alongside Ioran and Mhairi. It brought back a lot of horrible memories but it had also been the first time in months that he felt alive again.
You can take the soldier out of the fight but you can never take the fight out of the soldier.
His instructor in Denerim used to say that a lot but Arik never quite understood those words up until recently.
"Good to hear that, soldier," Ioran said with another pat to his back. "Now that we've got that clear, there is something I'd like you to take care of. I want you to find Captain Garavel and ask him for the vials I asked him to gather. Take them to the seneschal and tell him to prepare the Joining. When you're done report back to me."
"The Joining, ser?"
He had heard that term before. There was many a myth entwined with that word. Arik once overheard a young man, a recruit perhaps, discussing it with Commander Duncan at Ostagar a few nights prior to the fateful battle but the man had been quite secretive about it, not really giving any clear information about what that Joining was or what it did. From what he could hear Arik reasoned that it had to be a ritual of sorts, maybe an initiation ceremony.
At least nothing as fancy as the common folk usually made of it. Some townspeople swore that the Joining was a forbidden, dark ritual involving blood magic of the most horrific kind. They said that the wardens killed their recruits and drank their blood in order to gain exceptional strength and unbelievable, magical powers. Others would say that they went into the Deep Roads offering some of their own as a sacrifice to some unknown gods in exchange for the ability to stop a Blight if it occurred. All of that was nonsense, of course, and that meant no one really seemed to know anything about the mysterious Joining.
"Yes," Ioran confirmed, his expression suddenly guarded. "Every recruit has to undergo the Joining in order to become a warden. I wish I could tell you more, I really do but right now, that is almost all of what I am allowed to explain."
Arik frowned partly suspicious, partly curious. He hoped the Commander would be more generous with his explanations. There was a lot of secrecy going on and he was not quite sure if he liked that.
"Almost?" he prodded, wanting to know every last bit of information the other man was willing to feed him. Ioran sighed and it sounded… what? Resigned? Sad? Thoughtful?
"The vials I asked you to retrieve contain Darkspawn blood. It is… needed for the ritual. Usually, new recruits are sent out into the Deep Roads or, during a Blight, into the field to kill Darkspawn and collect their blood as kind of a trial to prove themselves worthy. In our current situation I don't deem that particular ordeal necessary. There is not one living soul in this fortress who hasn't fought their share of Darkspawn last night."
Does that mean there really is blood magic involved? Do those stories contain more truth than I gave them credit for?
The thought did not sit too well with Arik. Blood magic was evil. Blood magic was dangerous. Every child was taught that from an early age on and he firmly believed that it was taught for a reason. The Commander seemed to guess which path his thoughts had taken because he asked:
"Do you want to rethink your decision?"
"Well, it would help if you were willing to elaborate on the subject a little more," Arik evaded but the Commander shook his head, regretful but determined.
"I'm afraid I can't, Arik. I know you have questions. Probably a lot of them and I know I'm asking a lot by expecting you to simply accept the few facts that I can actually give but this is all I can tell you. Believe me when I say I've already given away more than I should."
Arik did believe him. There was no deception in Ioran's eyes and he honestly seemed to regret that the wardens' codex swore him to secrecy. It did not make his predicament any easier, though.
"That is one mighty leap of faith you're expecting," he quietly admitted. "I understand now why the wardens resort to conscription most of the time. There can't be many who take this risk willingly."
"I did," his company offered. It did not really surprise Arik to hear that. Ioran seemed to be a fellow crazy enough to go for such a challenge.
"And did you regret it?"
He knew he was probably going out on a limb with that question for it was quite a personal one but Arik felt he needed to hear the answer to it.
"Sometimes. It wouldn't be fair to claim otherwise but if you asked me if I would do it again then my answer would be yes. I believe in what the wardens do and what they stand for."
Conviction. Arik had hoped to hear that in Ioran's answer. It wouldn't have been there if the risks outweighed the good things and it was all he needed to confirm his decision.
"Alright, I guess I'm off to retrieve those vials, then. Let's see what that ominous Joining of yours has in store for me."
The wariness that had been in the Commander's eyes ever since they started this discussion softened a little and a smile eased the lines of worry on his face again. It was not the cheerful smile from earlier on, though. This one was calm and knowing and a little sad as if he wanted to say oh boy, you have no idea.
A feeling of foreboding tried to worm its way into Arik's guts again but he was quick to discard it. He made his decision and there was no way he would step down from it, not anymore.
"Thank you, Arik. I'm glad you didn't change your mind."
Arik nodded and saluted Ioran before he turned to tend to his task.
On the way out, he felt an excited grin taking shape on his features. No matter what it was he allowed himself to get involved with here, of one thing he was very sure: if he overcame the obstacles – whatever they might be – that were obviously a part of the Joining, this would be the adventure of a lifetime.
His instructor's voice again sounded in his ear: You can take the soldier out of the fight but you can never take the fight out of the soldier.
Oh yes, he did understand now indeed.