Playing Games

Luke looked up from his cards when he heard Anders snort. He glanced at the card he had put down and then back at the Mage, his brows raised. "What?"

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

Luke sighed. No, he wasn't sure, but he could never tell when Anders bluffed him either. Putting the rest of his cards down he said, "I think I prefer playing with Rory."

Nate laughed and Anders couldn't help making a comment.

"Does he let you win?"

Luke tried not to grin, but he couldn't help himself. "How do you three keep talking me into playing cards with you?"

"Because you like a challenge, yes?" Zevran grinned at him.

Nate gathered up the cards and began to shuffle.

Luke looked from Anders to Nate to Zevran and heaved a dramatic sigh. The other two Wardens and one elf laughed and Nate dealt him in to another hand.

Zevran raised his brow as he sorted his cards and Luke tried to ignore the gesture. Nothing, absolutely nothing the rogue did or said could be taken at face value during a game of cards, or at any other time for the most part. Zevran did not win every hand though; he won a suspiciously even amount. Luke suspected his Antivan friend won exactly as many rounds of cards as he liked – enough to line his pockets with coin, not enough to antagonize his company. Luke might have been satisfied with winning more than one hand a game, and sometimes he did, through sheer luck of the draw and an almost inhuman effort not to let his face betray his cards. But, then, perhaps Zevran pitied him there too and worked at his side, flanking as always, to ensure his victory. Luke studied his friend now and the elf winked at him.

With a combination of a grin and a scowl, Luke returned his attention to his own cards and began sorting the bad from the truly terrible. Anders would bluff boldly with such a hand, they had all thrown curses at the mage upon seeing a truly useless gathering of cards hit the table just before their coin was swept into his ready pouch. The 'night' had advanced, however, and Luke felt weariness plucking away at the corners of his mind. He was too tired to set and keep his features regular and so he played a different sort of game. Letting his face show his displeasure at his hand, he tossed in his fee and let his mind drift as the others began to try and fool one another.

He thought about his little brother and sister. Luke had enjoyed playing with his younger siblings two days before. It had felt like such a normal thing to be doing. Hiding cookies from Rory while the boy clambered over him, fingers searching out pockets and folds of clothing, and playing 'tickle chase' with Grace were simple amusements that always made him smile. He could only just remember being three or four years old and being so easily amused. After all the confusion and the turmoil of the previous week, sitting on the cool stone of the floor and playing pass the parcel – a cookie wrapped several times over in handkerchiefs – had been both soothing and entertaining.

Their talk of dreams had been less than soothing, however. Rory had piped up first, wrapping his arms about Luke's neck and whispering in his ear. "I dreamed a boy like me, Luke. It was my birthday." He leaned back and frowned then, speaking more loudly. "But the cake was pink!" Rory made a sound of disgust and cast a glance at Grace as if to indicate the colour of the cake had been her fault. "And daddy got lost in the maze."

Luke put disentangled Rory's arms and put the small boy down. He looked about for Brenna, hoping to ask if she had any further clarification of Rory's dreams, but she and Alistair were talking quietly and he did not want to interrupt them. Instead he returned his attention to the little boy who kept tugging his hand and sat next to him on the floor.

"What maze, Rory?"

The little boy shrugged. "In the palace."

The palace did not have a maze. Luke knew of several estates that boasted an arrangement of hedgerows, though he'd yet to wander one himself. He had to wonder how Rory even knew what a maze was. And did the little boy seem to be speaking more clearly, in better defined sentences? Though he had started talking early, no doubt in response to Leliana's constant storytelling and use of language, Rory had always been a quiet boy who only spoke when necessary. To have him volunteer information caused Luke's stomach to feel a little unsettled. These dreams were obviously important to the boy, or he would not have shared them.

Rory continued. "Then it got all misty and I was scared!"

Luke pulled him into his lap and Grace pouted at the attention and sidled up to them and tried to perch on Luke's bent knee.

Rory continued. "And Daddy was really hurt, he couldn't walk fast. The other boy tried to help him." His voice took on a musing tone. "I dreamed about the other boy… before? He knows my name."

To Luke it sounded like the sort of dream, however disturbing, that a young boy might have when he missed his father. But Aedan was so often gone and Rory had not talked of, nor had he heard Leliana mention Rory having had nightmares before. He thought it more likely Rory might dream of his mother. Surely he would miss her more keenly, she had barely left his side in all of his nearly four years.

Turning to Grace, Luke slipped his arm about her and said, "What about you, Gracie, I hear you dreamed of me?" After the question left his lips he pondered the wisdom of asking. Brenna had looked very disturbed.

The little girl nodded vigorously, her blonde curls bouncing about. "I dream of you lots!"

Why did a cold finger just creep down his spine?

"You fight like daddy!" Grace clapped her hands together, her grey eyes wide and bright. "And I knowed you coming home, I tell Aunty Brenna."

The fact that Grace's grasp of grammar more befitted her age did not comfort Luke. Instead he recalled a series of dreams he'd had over the past two and a half years, ones that had not disturbed him like the nightmare of his tainting and Joining. He talked with Grace in these dreams sometimes, or simply played with her or watched her play. He dreamt of all his family on and off, but Grace more often. He'd always figured it had to do with where she had been found, how she had come to their family, or simply because they shared the bond of being adopted.

"Are your dreams scary, Gracie?" He hugged the little girl a bit closer, just in case she decided to tell him they were.

"No, I am with you."

Luke never put much stock in dreams, but again, Brenna did not seem the sort of woman to take hysterical fits. If the children's dreams had disturbed her, he believed they were of significance. But until Aedan and Leliana returned, he did not know what could be done about it. He knew Leliana did place significance in certain dreams, so she would be the best person to mention it to.

Luke had missed Leliana after moving to Amaranthine, he still did. But she wrote him wonderful letters and he saw her fairly often, more often that Aedan had. He thought that after he had finished with the cleanup efforts in Denerim, he might ask to stay in the city for a while so he could spend some time with her, and keep a closer eye on his younger siblings.

A poke in the arm drew Luke form his reverie and back to the Deep Roads.

"Pay to stay, Luke." Anders nodded at the small pile of coins sitting in the dust between the four Wardens.

Luke glanced at Anders and then at his cards and blinked. "I think I'm tired."

Nate chuckled. "It's hard to tell down here, isn't it? Always so dark." The archer nodded towards Luke's cards. "The sooner you own up to your terrible fate, the sooner we can relieve you of your coin and then we can all get some sleep. Watch change is coming up."

Luke managed to get through the hand without losing the rest of his coin and willingly relinquished his cards at the end. Watch had been peaceful, restful, almost like it was on the road. Within the gloom of the Deep Roads he could almost imagine the darkness of night surrounded him instead of endless miles of stone. He exchanged goodnights with his fellows and reclined gratefully on his bedroll.

The first day of travel had brought them back through the Mage's lair. They had split with the other Wardens in the Roads proper, outside the tunnel that led within the rock. A team of six Wardens had continued along the Road. They would begin mapping their way south. Up for speculation was the idea the Roads would intersect the Elven ruins beneath the Brecilian Forest on the way to Gwaren and more than one Warden had wondered aloud if they would meet up with Philippe before they turned about to return to the surface. The Senior Warden would be surprised to see them! Luke almost wished he was a part of that group.

His own larger group would investigate the tunnel on the other side of the Mage's laboratory. They all suspected this would lead to the surface at some point south of Denerim. Luke had tried to avert his eyes as they walked through the fire blackened cavern. It had not occurred to him that he'd have to pass back through it. The firestorm unleashed by Anders had done a fairly thorough job and unless one had been there, it would have been hard to tell what had happened. Piles of ash dotted the dark and dusted floor and the bodies of the darkspawn had disappeared. Besides reclaiming the mismatched amour and weapons, no one liked to contemplate too closely what the darkspawn might do with the bodies of the fallen.

They had run into darkspawn not long afterwards and a small skirmish had ensued. Having Anders with them had been a blessing. The small band of hurlocks and genlocks dropped beneath one of his spells and the rest of the Wardens merely finished them off. They sensed only vague traces of the taint after that and it moved away as they approached. The darkspawn ran from them – only this time it did not feel as if they were being lured into a trap. No teasing appearances, no runners, no ambushes, the creatures simply fled, unorganized and as mindless as they had been in the past.

They had encountered a small group of genlocks late that morning and Luke had not even had time to draw his blades before their two archers cut down half the number and their lead warrior and Zevran had taken out the other two in quick succession. After that the tunnel had diverged into two paths. They had explored one path for almost the entire day and had found no darkspawn. Luke had had the chance to use his weapons however.

The path had led into a wide space, another cavern too large for the reach of their torches. Michael, their lead warrior, had gone to step forward when Zevran had slipped back out of the shadows of the cavern and placed a restraining hand upon his arm.

"Unless you'd like to battle spiders, many of them, we should turn around."

Luke then placed the skittering sounds he'd heard. What he'd guessed might rocks slipping from the ceiling or walls and tumbling across the stone floor was actually many legs and a shiver gripped him. Aedan had shared many tales of the deep dwelling spiders from the Deep Roads and Luke found himself anxious to retreat. He did not want to see a spider larger than himself. Unfortunately, fate deemed he would see one that day, for as they turned, one of the Wardens lifted his torch out of the way of another and the flame caught a trace of web creeping along the ceiling and the silken strands flared brightly, carrying the voracious fire into the cavern and lighting up a scene of… horror.

Spiders dropped from the dark crevices of the ceiling, what looked to be hundreds, and Luke started sending prayers to the Maker there and then, convinced he might die beneath the multitude of legs. The majority of the spiders had fled towards the far side of the cavern, the flames licking after them, both forces moving towards a supply of air, one of the rare chimney's to the surface no doubt. A few turned in their direction and Luke experienced a new style of fighting. They danced apart, trying to keep their distance from the long legs, severing them one by one in order to close in on the bodies of their foes. Luke found his dual wield style imminently suited to fighting the creatures. He could cut and advance with both hands at once, sweeping his blades to effectively block and slice at the same time and he took to moving at Zevran's side, the pair of them cutting legs here and there and leaving the disabled spiders for their fellows to dispatch.

Luke did shove his sword deep into the carapace of a spider that tried to inch over him on the leaking stubs of its forelegs, lurching forward with a thrust of the intact back legs. The ichor that sprayed out around his blade was unlike any battle gore he had previously come across. The thin fluid arced out like a shower of black ink, thin enough to mist and stain his face beneath the openings of his helm. Luke made a sound of disgust, the smell of it assaulting his nose and the feel of it causing his skin to itch immediately. He dropped back and resumed his leg lopping duty, determined to leave the messier business of actually killing the spider to someone else.

The battle did not last long. The pile of spider corpses soon blocked the tunnel and acted as an effective deterrent to any other long legged creatures seeking to use that exit and the sound of skittering feet retreated with the light of the fire that had raced across the ceiling. As one the men dropped their shoulders in relief.

"Well, that was fun!"

As one the men turned and scowled at Anders.

"Ah, anyone need a heal?"

Surprisingly they all shook their heads. Zevran had a request, however. "Can you do anything about this itch, my friend?"

Anders looked for a moment as if he considered a verbal response, a witty retort, and then he simply chortled and let out a heal spell that blanketed the entire group, stopping the maddening itch of the spider's ichor and relieving any weary muscles. A collective sigh of relief passed through the men.

"As much as I would like to see where those spiders got themselves to, I vote we try the other path."

Not a single voice rose in disagreement with their leader and the company retraced their steps to the branch of the tunnel and spent the rest of the day without incident. Michael called for a stop and they set up camp, passed out watch assignments and Luke found himself talked into a card game once again.

As he lay there now, musing upon their journey so far, Luke decided he felt like a proper Warden. He was and had been acting as a part of a team for near on ten days now. This had been more than a routine patrol along the highway. He had coordinated with the Wardens in battle, had experienced the thrill of victory and the devastation of loss. He had been part of an effort to rid Denerim of a terrible threat. Aedan would be compelled to assign him a more regular duty now, would he not?

"Are your dreams bothering you, Luke?"

Luke started slightly at Zevran's soft voice beside him and he turned his head to study the elf, similarly stretched out on a bedroll, arms folded beneath his head.

"No, I was thinking about… everything."

Zevran raised a brow. "That will not help you sleep."

Luke snorted softly and smiled into the darkness. "Zev, when Aedan gets back, after the furor of all this," he waved a hand about in the darkness, "has died down, will you speak to him on my behalf?"

His elven companion said nothing for a moment and then his quiet voice punctuated the dim silence. "Many of the Wardens would be willing to pass comment on your competence in battle, Luke, your ability to take a proper place amongst your brethren."

"But he really listens to you, he trusts you." Luke closed his eyes and took a breath. "I'm tired of him treating me like a child. I know he means well, but I've learned all I can from his books and stories. I've learned more in the past ten days from actually being a Warden than I have in the past two years."

"That is not entirely true, my young friend. You have put into practice a lot of what you have learned, you have had the opportunity to see what works," and here Luke felt the elf's eyes resting on him, "and what does not. We all continue to learn our entire lives. Don't discard your lessons now because you have a taste for battle."

Luke felt chastened then. He bit his lips together and thanked the Maker for the darkness that hid the flush across his cheeks. He had sounded like a child. He took another breath, a slow and steady one. "You're right, Zev. I'm sorry."

"Luke, he does not hold you back simply out of love or guilt or whatever you might imagine. It is difficult for him to watch his son mature and to know that he must send you out with the Wardens to do your duty. I imagine he wishes he might never have to. But had you not become tainted you would have joined Ferelden's army, yes? You would have been using your blades one way or another. Oghren would have been just as staid a Commander." Zevran's voice took on a wistful tone then, one rarely heard. "Hold on to your youth, Luke. It does not last long. Take these new lessons and apply them to your training. He will not keep you in his arms forever. Even Aedan knows he has to let you go sometime."

Luke thanked his companion for his words, his voice full of proper gratitude. He was a lucky young man, he knew that. He had survived where others might not have, he had regained a family and siblings, he belonged to a revered order and he had the companionship of a former Antivan Crow. Not many could lay claim to even half of what he had. He fell asleep with a sense of contentment and restful ease.

When he awoke, he felt the taint. Not just the faint presence of his fellow wardens, but the overwhelming presence of darkspawn. They were close and getting closer. Every Warden was ready to move in a matter of minutes, bedding rolled, packs packed, boots laced, helms seated squarely and weapons drawn. Zevran melted from the darkness and addressed them breathlessly as a group.

"A small horde, ready your weapons, my friends, this picnic is over."

The Wardens fell into formation, Michael stepping to the front with another warrior at his side. Luke and Zevran moved in the middle of the group, their pairing taken for granted. Luke knew he would not always have the rogue at his side in battle. Zevran did not often accompany the Wardens away from Amaranthine, preferring to indulge in his unofficial roles of instructor and spy. As much as he enjoyed the elf's companionship, Zevran's commnets of the previous evening filtered back through his mind and he appreciated the words in a fresh light. He would have to learn to work with many different partners and without one at all.

His musings came to an end with the first clash of steel and he saw arrows race through their ranks to cut into the first row of oncoming darkspawn. The bash of Michael's shield echoed off the walls of the tunnels and genlocks began filtering back to them. Luke engaged and Zevran flanked and they quickly fell into the rhythm of battle. An explosion ahead threw the advancing darkspawn from their feet and Luke slipped between his fellow Wardens, Zevran at his side, to take advantage of easy targets, thrusting down with his sword, crossing his blades and kicking with his booted foot.

The horde pressed forward with a ferocity that made little sense, though Luke did not stop to contemplate it until he the sound of steel upon steel in the distance caught his attention. A break in the tide of darkspawn allowed him to exchange a quick word with Zevran.

"Do you hear fighting up ahead, behind the darkspawn?"

"Yes. I will go and investigate. Will you flank Gerard?"

Luke nodded at the instruction and moved to assist the warrior behind him, ducking out of the way of a two handed axe and the parrying clash of the Warden's two handed sword. He stepped behind the hurlock and bent low, aiming a crippling strike behind the kneecaps, his sharp steel biting through armour and leather to nick the tendons and muscles, dropping the creature beneath a massive blow from Gerard's sword that quickly ended its life. They moved forward and engaged their next foe.

The ring of steel in the distance closed in and Luke heard then the bash of a shield, a war cry and the distinctive bellow of dwarven cursing. They had come upon the King's party – this tunnel lead to the surface and they had the remainder of this horde trapped between them. Zevran slipped from shadow with a feral grin upon his lips and Luke nodded in acknowledgement of his news. A fireball erupted in the middle of the battle, sizzling the armour from the darkspawn and flaring brightly against unprotected eyes. A wave of healing rippled through them all and they pressed forward. It seemed only a matter of minutes passed, though Luke's heavy shoulders and sweat soaked undershirt belied the thought, when the two forces met over the last giant hurlock and then stood dumbly before one another.

Then a great cheer erupted, echoing from the roof of the widened tunnel and Luke felt the breath of air from behind the army, the entrance to the world. Between hugs and arm clasps the men exchanged greetings and moved as a single force back towards the scrub land south of the city, emerging into late afternoon sunlight, all of them throwing off helms and lifting faces to the blue sky, dragging in great breaths of untainted air.

The spent the rest of the afternoon piling rocks back into the mouth of the cave, every man working tirelessly to haul boulders into place before finally, Anders threw fireball after fireball at the structure, fusing the stone and likely causing the ceiling behind to collapse downward. The location would be marked, mapped and patrolled, but for the time being, the Deep Roads had been sealed.

An air of victory pervaded the air that night, as if the weight had finally been lifted from every shoulder. Then men sang and danced and secret stores of ale emerged from many packs. Luke sat between his uncles. Though neither Fergus nor Alistair were related t him by blood, they would always be family to him and they exchanged stories and spoke as men should until the moon rose fully and yawns replaced more and more of their words. The next day they would return to the city, clean themselves up and then listen for news of Aedan's ship.

Alistair slipped an arm about his shoulders and mused, "And now we have good news for the Warden Commander. He will see his not indispensible after all."

Luke grinned and nodded. Hopefully Aedan would see things in that light.