The Joining

Alistair finished stuffing the last of his socks into his pack and looked around his room, making sure he'd not forgotten anything. He was full of anticipation, excitement and a small curl of dread. He was eager to leave Denerim and visit Amaranthine. He devoured reports and letters from Aedan the moment they landed on his desk and though his friend wrote clearly, his reports were too concise for Alistair's tastes. He longed to see for himself the rebuilding of the Grey Wardens. He had mixed feelings regarding the upcoming joining, however. As much as Ferelden needed more Grey Wardens, he knew not all of the recruits would survive the ritual. Aedan's last letter detailing the fatalities in the Western Hills had been bleak. When it came to the death of an innocent, the men were of the same mind and he felt the losses as Aedan had.

Leliana, and the mage, Taren, joined him as he exited the palace. Taren had expressed interest in joining the Grey Wardens. Alistair, having received Aedan's urgent plea, had thanked the mage and encouraged him to travel to Amaranthine with them. Standing behind them was the ten man squad he was not allowed to leave the city, or even the palace, without. Oghren was standing at the foot of the stairs barking last minute instructions to the men. He would be staying in Denerim with the rest of the army. Arl Eamon was also waiting quietly nearby. Alistair stepped over to the man he considered family and grasped his shoulder. "See you in a week, Eamon."

The arl nodded and patted Alistair's arm in return. "Give my regards to the Chancellor."

Alistair smiled at Aedan's other title and how little the man had wanted it. Despite his protests, Aedan was a good advisor. Having been raised a noble there were a lot of things he innately understood. Things Alistair was learning now under Eamon's careful guidance. In idle moments he toyed with the fantasy of ordering Aedan back to Denerim as chancellor so that he could take up the mantle of Warden Commander for a while.

Their journey to Amaranthine was pleasant, the weather mild. Leliana, as was her way, entertained the party with stories and when at camp with songs. Afterwards they sat companionably together by the campfire and she spoke to him quietly of the last gossip she'd heard before leaving the city. Listening to her melodious voice against the backdrop of night sounds and the crackling of the fire, he felt a longing for the remainder of his companions of the previous year. From Sten they'd had no word, nor did they expect any. He wondered if they'd ever see the Qunari again. There had been no letters from Wynne either, though Alistair was hardly surprised. She and the golem, Shale, had had a long journey ahead of them. It was likely they would return themselves before any correspondence.

He glanced across the fire at a break in the wooded copse and guessed that might have been were Morrigan would have set herself up. He had been startled to get Aedan's letter about Morrigan. He knew his friend had been having odd dreams, but hadn't really paid a lot of attention to them. He smiled to himself…Leliana talked of visions as well, he'd supposed it was something the pair had in common. But the dream he'd written about had an odd clarity to it and Alistair couldn't help suspecting Aedan might be on to something. If Morrigan was in Haven they could organize a party to keep tabs on her and…the child.

Leliana had fallen silent and he turned to look at her. She was staring dreamily into the fire and he thanked the Maker she hadn't noticed is inattentiveness. The bard was easy company and he'd enjoyed the chance to get to know her better over the past month – even if she couldn't help but tease him over every stray glance he might give a nicely dressed lady. He was supposed to be on the lookout for a wife, was he not?

She had been unusually quiet of late though. He'd hesitated to ask if she simply missed Aedan or if something else was bothering her, and felt acutely his lack of comfort around women. He hoped this visit to Amaranthine and her beloved warden would be all that was required to restore her sunny disposition. With that thought he touched her lightly on the shoulder and said good night before making his way to his tent.

The party arrived at Amaranthine just as the sun was setting the next day. As they crested the last hill and followed the road to the main gates, Alistair couldn't help but be impressed with what he saw. In the month and a half Aedan and his men had been here, the place had been cleaned up and restored. The road was in good repair and the well lit estate looked inviting in the fading daylight. A shield had been mounted above the main gate bearing same Grey Warden crest as Aedan's Armour. From the pristine condition of it, Alistair guessed it was in fact Aedan's shield as the warrior much preferred the weight of a blade in either hand.

Two guards were stationed at the gate and as they approached, Alistair noticed a small crowd had formed in the courtyard beyond. The welcoming party…lovely…he couldn't go anywhere without being king these days it seemed. But his face broke into a grin the instant he caught sight of the Warden Commander. Aedan stood in the centre of the gates. Six weeks without Leliana's astute eye for fashion and the warrior looked much as he had when they'd been on the road last year. His black hair was short again and his clothes barely serviceable. It was odd how someone raised as a noble could care so little for their appearance, but that was Aedan. Though his face wore an easy grin, Alistair didn't miss the shadows in his light blue eyes…his friend looked about as overwhelmed as he'd felt in the city. They were both shouldering heavy burdens. Aedan strode forward and clasped his arms and then surprised him by pulling him into a hug. He returned the gesture realising the warden must have missed him just as much as he'd missed his friend.

Aedan stepped back, looking a little self-conscious, cleared his throat and said formally, "Welcome to Amaranthine, Your Majesty."

Alistair smiled and said, "It is my pleasure to be here, Commander."

The two men grinned at each other again and then Aedan turned to introduce him to the small crowd in the courtyard. Alistair stepped past Aedan to greet Zevran with nearly as much enthusiasm. The elf smiled widely at him, his tone familiarly jovial as dipped his head and said, "Your Majesty." He then acknowledged the two Orlesian wardens and was in turn welcomed to Amaranthine by Jacob and the rest of his guard. He took the time to meet each of the assembled recruits, remembering with a sad little jolt how Cailan had performed the same duty at Ostagar.

Alistair then turned to look for Aedan, eager to get settled and catch up on news. When his eyes found the warden, he smiled softly to himself – he might have to wait a while on that front. Aedan and Leliana were standing in the shadow of the main gate, just a little apart from the crowd. They faced one another, holding hands, and were staring wordlessly into one another's faces. As he watched, Aedan stepped in and pulled the woman into a crushing hug, holding her so close that Alistair began do doubt her ability to breathe. At a light touch to his arm he turned away, slightly embarrassed at having seen such a private moment, and followed Jacob inside the main hall.

--=0=--

Aedan did not feel the slightest guilt at having deprived the hall of Leliana's talents the previous night. Though he'd been overjoyed to see Alistair again, and nearly as equally pleased to see Taren – especially upon learning the young mage's ambition to become a Grey Warden – nothing had compared to what he'd felt at seeing Leliana. Just the very sight of her, even travel stained and weary as she'd been, had taken his breath away. He'd lost the ability to speak as he'd held her, and had simply hugged her hard until she'd laughingly wriggled from his embrace and raised her lovely face to be kissed. He'd willingly complied. All the doubt and confusion he'd felt in the last six weeks seemed to melt away as he'd kissed her, and just as he was considering sneaking her away to his room there had been a quiet cough at his side. Dinner had been served and the king waited upon his attendance.

The evening was filled with laughter and merriment and he'd indulged the recruits, allowing the ale to flow freely knowing that for some this may be their very last evening. It was a sobering thought and one that was obviously on the mind of all four wardens present. He could see it in their eyes as they exchanged glances and strove at times to keep their expressions even and relaxed. He'd sat Alistair at the head of the table and himself to the right with Leliana at his side. He held her hand during dinner and fought to keep himself from touching her more intimately. Instead he drank in her presence with his eyes until she begged him to stop, laughing and blushing lightly.

After dinner there had been calls for stories and songs, which a few of the recruits answered with reasonable talent. Before someone could point out Leliana's skill with song, he took the opportunity to slip quietly from the room pulling her close behind him. He had been so absorbed by her company all evening he'd not even once looked in Delilah's direction. If he had, he'd have seen that the girl looked downcast despite the merriment of the dinner.

Now he stretched languidly beside his love, watching her sleep. He felt truly rested for the first time in weeks. But as he lay quietly wishing he had the leisure to spend all day by her side, his thoughts turned to the Joining. He had business to attend to. Dropping a light kiss to her brow, he slipped silently from the bed and gathered his clothes, dressing as quickly as he could. He eased the door to his room closed behind him and looked up to find Alistair walking down the hall. They nodded gravely to one another, a silent acknowledgement of what each of them felt, and went down to the dining room.

After helping themselves to a light breakfast, Alistair asked after the recruits. He said, "Given what might happen today, I'm not sure I want to know about them."

Aedan nodded, wishing he had the luxury of ignorance, but he'd worked with these men and women for six weeks now. He pushed the list of seven names he'd compiled across the table to Alistair and the king regarded it a minute before looking up, "Delilah Howe?"

Aedan blanched, he'd not been sure Alistair would recognise the name, being that the former arl of Amaranthine hadn't been the only Howe in Ferelden, but the coincidence was too great. He nodded and replied, "Howe's daughter."

He watched as Alistair digested this news. He'd not written to the king of Delilah's presence directly, he'd been careful not to mention any names, just detailing numbers and training schedules and progress. Alistair was studying the list intently, though he obviously was no longer reading it. He finally looked up and said, "Did you…did she, why is she here?"

Leaving out certain details, Aedan quickly filled Alistair in on his history with Delilah. He mentioned their friendship throughout childhood and her confession soon after arrival. She had not known of her father's plans. Alistair watched him intently and then said, "What are you not telling me?"

Aedan looked at his hands a moment before replying, "We were…close…before…"

Alistair's expression said he understood precisely what Aedan had not spelled out. He said, "Aedan, are you sure about this? You know what this could mean…"

"She's talented with her blades Alistair, very. This girl has been training since she was old enough to hold a dagger. Howe was quite indulgent with her." He paused and then continued, "To answer your question, no. I'm not sure. I hate the thought of losing any of these recruits. But we need Grey Wardens and her motivation is keen. Both Oghren and Zevran are impressed with her and Kayley's skills. Not an insignificant feat in Zevran's case."

Philippe and Jean joined them just then and the conversation turned to more practical matters, where the chalice was, where the vile concoction they would offer the recruits was, and where to hold the ritual. Aedan had told Alistair of Philippe's change in attitude and he saw that the king was making the effort to be cordial to the warden. Philippe was unfailingly polite. Jean was subdued. They all knew what might happen today.

Aedan put his hands on the table and pushed his chair back, standing up. "Let us be on with this then," he said and was answered by a quiet murmur of agreement. They went to find the recruits.

The serious expressions on the faces of the four wardens obviously had some effect on the recruits and they mimicked the somber mood as the eleven men and woman walked beyond the grounds of the main house to a stone pavilion set in a quiet grove behind a low hill. Aedan knew it for the 'summer house' where Lady Howe had entertained noble ladies and felt oddly perturbed to be using it for such a solemn ceremony.

The men and women formed a loose circle facing Aedan and the other three wardens. Though two of the men had been initially awed by the presence of the king, they had been told Alistair was here as a Grey Warden. This did little to relax the company, however, as the ritual which had been shrouded in such secrecy was finally upon them.

After glancing at the chalice upon the stone table, Aedan looked up at the recruits. He found their intense gaze unnerving, knowing the questions they had, the apprehensions they held. Gesturing to the chalice behind him, he cleared his throat and began. "Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Some of you may pay that price today."

Some of the recruits darted glances at each other and the chalice and there was a general shifting of feet and twitching of hands. Aedan shifted his gaze to each recruit in turn, catching their eyes and measuring their resolve before continuing.

"You will each be asked to drink darkspawn blood," he indicated the chalice once again, "that you might master the taint. Those who survive the joining will become immune to the taint and be able to sense the darkspawn. You will be forever changed."

Aedan continued to hold the attention of the men and women before him by meeting each individual gaze. He felt that if he faltered in his own steadfastness, he would fail the recruits and in doing so, allow them to fail themselves.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the beginning."

He gestured to Jean and the young Orlesian warden bowed his head. All followed suit.

"Join us brothers and sisters
Join us in the shadows were we stand vigilant
Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn
And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten
And that one day we shall join you."

Aedan allowed only the smallest moment of silence to follow these words before turning and picking up the chalice. He stepped forward toward the nearest recruit, one of the seasoned veterans from the siege of Denerim. The man stepped forward to meet him and reached for the cup. He drank.

The reaction was immediate. The man's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to his knees making awful choking and gasping sounds. His hands clutched at his neck, then relaxed as he pitched forward on the cool stone floor. Alistair knelt beside him and felt for the pulse in his neck. Aedan did not realize he'd been holding his breath until Alistair nodded and he released it in a rush of air. The man was alive. The new warden suddenly opened his eyes and gasped as if struggling for breath. He coughed. Alistair helped him to his feet and led him to the side of the pavilion to be seated, taking a quiet moment to pat the man's shoulder before returning to stand near Aedan. One down, six to go. Aedan steeled his nerve and handed the chalice to the second recruit. The result was much the same.

The third recruit died horribly. He thrashed about on the floor bloodying his face and hands before suddenly stiffening and lying completely still. His eyes were open and staring, perfectly white. Philippe and Jean quickly stepped forward to pick the man up and carry him away.

The fourth recruit looked terrified. He took a step back from Aedan as he approached, his lips moving in prayer, his eyes never leaving the chalice. Aedan stopped before him, hoping his lack of forward movement would halt the man's backward progress. He remembered the fate of Ser Jory and fervently prayed he would not have to kill this man. The man looked up finally and accepted the cup. His eyes carried a haunted expression and it was all Aedan could do to keep his own gaze steady. The man drank, fell, choked and thrashed. He lived.

Delilah was next. Aedan looked to her and all the things he might say quickly rushed to his mind, but nothing could be voiced. She returned his gaze and her grey eyes were solemn and composed. She stood ready with a quiet resolve. He handed her the chalice. She drank. Her hands flew to her throat and she stared at Aedan in horror before her eyes rolled back and she dropped to the floor. Alistair immediately knelt beside her, feeling for a pulse. He looked up at Aedan and shook his head gently, his face filled with sorrow.

Aedan's ears seemed to stop working and in a fog of silence he resolutely turned toward Kayley, trying not to notice Philippe come forward to help Alistair pick up Delilah's limp form. Kayley's eyes were wide with terror and her hands covered her mouth. She took a step back, but Jean was there, a hand to her elbow. He was talking to her, but Aedan could not hear what he said. His throat ached and his head was beginning to pound. Kayley tried to step back again and Jean moved with her, talking all the while. The elven girl turned to look at Aedan and he had no idea what she saw in his face, but it seemed to decide her. She reached for the cup. She lived.

There was one recruit left, Taren. The mage looked wan as Aedan finally faced him, but he did not hesitate. He stepped forward and took the chalice. He thrashed upon the floor for longer than any of the other recruits and Alistair and Philippe did what they could to protect his head from the hard stone. But his eyes rolled forward again and he finally coughed a shaky breath. He lived.

Aedan did not remember putting the cup on the stone table he was just suddenly not holding it anymore. He could barely hear Philippe welcome the surviving recruits. He felt he'd been struck dumb as well as deaf and his head felt oddly thick. Alistair and Jean handed out the pendants made from some of the blood, explaining their significance. The new wardens were then encouraged to rest for the rest of the day and to seek out one of the older wardens if they had any need.

Aedan had not moved for several minutes when Alistair tapped him lightly on the arm. He started and looked at his friend, then simply dropped to his knees on the stone floor, his head in his hands.