Disclaimer: Dragon Age is the solely the property of Bioware and Electronic Arts, no profit is being made by me for this work.

Chapter Four: "Warden Blackwall"

I had tiredly settled in for the night. I hadn't been sleeping well for the last several days. Most everyone in the Inquisition was happy, esctatic even, that Warden-Commander Amell was joining us. She was a living legend, the woman who slayed the Archdemon, amongst other lofty accomplishments.

Most people weren't me, however.

I wasn't who I said I was. I was a man seeking atonement, who walked around using another man's name to hide myself from my own shame. It was fortunate for me that Warden Blackwall, the true Blackwall, had been on a recruiting tour and was often out of easy contact, as it allowed me to assume his identity when he died rather effortlessly. Only now, what little I had left was in danger of falling to peices.

Much like assuming Warden Blackwall's identity, it was easy to fake being a Grey Warden. Most people didn't know much about them. Despite the many hits my esteem of them had taken recently, I had to admit that Warden-Commander Amell had a point, Wardens were proficient at keeping secrets. Only now there was someone who actually knew the secrets that I allegedly knew myself. My story was only still holding up because while she knew of Corypheus (which was certainly more than I knew), she hadn't known much more about him than anyone else did as Wardens apparently kept secrets from other Wardens. Still, it was likely only a matter of time before the truth about me was revealed.

My dour thoughts were interupted by a knock on the barn door. I looked up and spotted the catalyst of my self contemplation- Morgana Amell.

I immediately shot up. "Commander, what can I do for you!?"

"At ease, Constable- or do you prefer Lieutenant?" Warden-Commander Amell asked me. "I'm just here to talk. Order business."

"I'm not big on formalities," I honestly answer as I deflect the question, at ill ease as to where this conversation might go. It was obvious that the Wardens had some sort of hierarchy, though, like many others, I was unaware of what that hierarchy was. Blackwall was apparently someone of significant rank if he was known to the Fereldan Warden-Commander.

"I figured as much, but I also figured I could at least do you the courteousy of asking," Amell replied.

"I apprectiate it, Commander," I tell her. "Whatever you wish to call me is fine."

The Warden-Commander shrugged. "I appreciate that, Blackwall. Many Orlesian Wardens seem to get caught up in fussing over rank and formalities, so I try not to deal with them overmuch. It seems to get worse the higher up in rank they get and with you being a Warden-Constable... I wasn't sure if you didn't react because you're more reasonable than many of your contemporaries or because you'd wished to discuss the matter in private."

"I tend to think of myself as a reasonable sort," I reply with a smile, becoming more at ease with her.

She smirked. "Most people do, regardless of reality."

"The Orlesian Army isn't much different, truth be told," I inform her.

"Oh, did you serve?" she inquired.

"For a time, until the politics drove me away," I somewhat truthfully admit.

"Ah, yes, 'The Grand Game'," Amell said mockingly in disgust. "If you were of high enough rank to have to deal with that, I can see why you would join the Wardens. Even as bad as our internal politics can get, it is nothing compared to the viper's nest that is the Orlesian Nobility."

"I'm not one for politics myself. Hate it to be perfectly honest," I tell her.

"From your lips, to our Lady's ears," Amell replied with a smile. "Politics is what got me temporarily saddled one of your contemporaries, Warden-Lieutenant Gerod Caron, who had an opinion on everything I had done or decided."

"Ah, one of those." I say commiseratingly.

"Yeah," She agreed.

"How'd you get stuck with him?" I inquire, my curiousity piqued.

"It was during The Thaw. I was requested to handle a sensitive matter for the Dwarven Merchant's Guild based out of Denerim. Alistair, my first choice for my Warden-Constable, still wasn't back from the Anderfels, having been temporarily been put on assignment in Orlais, so I had appointed Nathaniel Howe, son of the late Arl Rendon Howe, to be my second-in-command. Given that Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep had been his childhood home and that he was raised by an Arl, I figured him to be the perfect person to be left in charge," Amell said, informing me of her reasoning at the time. I wondered what had made her trust him, given that the Commander was the one who had killed Rendon Howe and gotten the Howe family stripped of their titles and property. "Weisshaupt disagreed. They felt it was bad form to allow Nate any sort of temptation to take back his families' legacy in my absense- nevermind that none of the other Warden-Acolytes would have stood for it if he'd tried, which I trusted him not to do. Over my objections, they sent Caron to act as the interim Commander of the Grey and Arl of Amaranthine while I was alone on assignment in the Deep Roads. It was probably a good thing I sent Velanna away, as she'd have likely have killed him within five seconds of meeting him. As it was, there was an incident between him and Justice which saw Anders leaving us for the Free Marches. Needless to say, I was not pleased when I returned and I booted him from the Fortress and had both him and Mistress Woosley escorted straight to the border by soldiers of the Queen's Army. I then proceeded to hire on Nate's sister Delilah as our accountant and left him in charge as I went on a personal mission with my faithful mabari."

"Anders... THE Anders!" I say in surprise. Like many others, I was aware that Anders was a Fereldan Grey Warden mage, but Fereldan Grey Warden always seemed like a secondary designation overshadowed by the fact that he was a mage.

"Yes, THE Anders. He was a Warden under my command before he became a refugee Healer working out of Kirkwall's Darktown where he met my cousin. It was him, Arty, her sister Bethany and Varric who had initially encountered Corypheus. It was also how we first learned that Corypheus could control Wardens, as he'd briefly managed to take control of Anders," Amell informed me.

"Maker's balls..." I said in shock.

"That was my thought on it too," Amell replied.

"Do you think that was why he...?" I ask. The tragedy in Kirkwall that had sparked the Mage/Templar War was horrifying. I couldn't imagine anyone, not even a Warden... Especially a Warden, being capable of it. Knowing that Anders had once been under the thrall of The Elder One... Well it wasn't a comforting thought, but it did make it an easier pill to swallow that a Grey Warden, even if he was a mage, could do something as horrifying as blowing up a Chantry, murdering it's Grand Cleric.

"No." Amell stated firmly. "While the Anders I knew wouldn't have been capable of it, he'd changed when he left The Vigil. What happened in Kirkwall... That was all him."

I was surprised by how sad she sounded then. When people speak of Anders, it's either usually as some sort of crazed madman, an anti-Chantry anarchist or as a revolutionist visionary, the solitary figure that was willing to do what needed to be done in an effort to affect real change against the Templars and the Chantry. The only people who didn't, I realized, were those who actually knew him.

Varric, when he would talk about him, seemed to hate the man greatly. There was a tinge of bitterness in his tone that spoke loudly of resentment and loathing. With Warden-Commander Amell, there was sadness and regret. I only knew of Anders as this legendary figure, someone who was used as a symbol on both sides of the Mage/Templar conflict for different reasons. It was hard to believe that there were people out that who actually knew him and were his friends, let alone people like the Champion of Kirkwall or the Hero of Fereldan. Most would have considered themselves lucky to have ever have met one or the other, yet he'd not only had known both of them, he'd been close to them as well.

The Warden-Commander smiled tiredly at me. "Hard to believe isn't it."

"A little," I admitted with a small smile of my own. "So what did you come to see me about? Because I'll warn you now, I was out of the loop for much of what the Order was doing. I didn't start making my way back to civilization until after the Divine's death and hadn't even known the others had gone into seclusion until I met the Inquisitor south of Redcliffe."

"That happens, but as it turns out, what I have to ask about, you're uniquely suited to answer," Amell said, before trusting her arm out. My entire body went rigid and I felt as if a great pressure had come over my whole body, as if I was about to be crushed.

"What...!?" I started to ask, however the pressure increased and I found it hard to talk.

"Ah, ah! I talk, you listen," Amell playfully scolded me. It was then I noticed the cut on her palm and my eyes widened in fear and recognition. Blood magic. She smirked at me in amusement, as if my fear was somehow entertaining to her and she let out a small chuckle. "What was it that I told Solas I brought to the Inquisition when he asked? I am a student-practioner of Forgotten and Exotic Arts and the Foremost Expert on the Blight in all of Thedas, is what I told him correct? Of course it is. I all but spelled it out for everyone right then and there, that I practice blood magic. After all, the Blight is in our... My blood and blood magic is a rather exotic, though forbidden, art."

She twitched her hands and my feet came off the ground. I was at her mercy and she knew it. She'd gotten me comfortable and caught me off guard. Worse, I suspected she knew my secret and I was going to die for it. After all, I couldn't think of any other reason that she would reveal that she was a blood mage to me.

"So tell me, not-Blackwall, who are you? What is your purpose here?" She asked, confirming that she knew who I wasn't even if she didn't know who I was. Worse, she was likely thinking I was a spy for Corypheus.

"I... I..." I attempted to speak out, but it took supreme effort to do so. Her fingers twitched once more and I couldn't even manage that.

"Funny thing about Wardens. We use a blood magic ritual to take the Darkspawn taint into our bodies. Since you're not a real Warden, I'll not bother you with the details. Just know that it connects us to The Blight. It's what makes us and us alone to capable of killing an Archdemon. It takes more than just putting the pointy end of your sword into it, though it does certainly help," Amell monologued. "Given that I was the one who killed Urthemial, I think we can safely assume I know what I'm talking about there. I bet you're wondering why I'm going into all of that. Well it's simple, when Grey Wardens take in the Taint, those of us who survive our Joining are able to sense Darkspawn. Its one of the few talents we gain as Wardens. Some of us who are more sensitive or are Blight Wardens- Wardens who survived our Joining during a Blight, can sense more. We can sense how many there are in an area, some of us are even capable of identifying a darkspawn variant by merely sensing it through the taint without even laying eyes on it. The longer one is a Grey Warden, the closer we get to our Calling, a true Calling, not the poor facsimile Corypheus is forcing on us, the stronger this talent becomes. Many become capable of sensing ghouls. A very select few, usually those who are succumbing to the taint themselves, are even able to sense blighted creatures and other Wardens."

"But me, I stand apart from all others. It's how I can tell with absolute certainty that The Mass Calling is a false one. I'm not just sensitive to the Taint, I'm not just a Blight Warden, I'm someone who has had the potential in their blood unlocked. I'm the first and only Warden to have survived killing an Archdemon," Amell explained. "My abilities are so much more than any other Warden in the history of our entire Order. I knew from the very moment that Inquisitor Adaar identified you as a Warden that you were not who you claimed to be. So... 'Blackwall', you're going to tell me everything. Who you are, why you're here, and what happened to the REAL Warden-Constable Blackwall. And be warned, if you lie to me, I will know and what I do to you will not be painless." She then release me and I dropped down to the ground on my hands and knees.

I looked up towards the Warden-Commander in fear. "My... My name is Thom Rainier..."

I tell her eveything: my name, what I had done, how I met the real Blackwall and how he died- something about that had caught her attention- and how I used his name and helped out isolated, outlying villages in Fereldan and Orlais as a form of penance for the wrongs I had committed. All the while she looked at me impassively, not interupting, not judging me. When I was done, I felt drained. Strangely, while I was still tormented by the action I'd taken in my past, I felt lighter, unburdened by it. Warden-Commander Amell was silent, leaning against a wall and thinking over what she'd learned from me.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked tiredly, resigned to some terrible fate.

"I keep your secret," She answered. "Regardless of your past, you're a good person. One who made a terrible, and perhaps unforgivable, mistake. But still a good person."

"How could you say that, after what I did!?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Because if you were the monster you thought you were, you wouldn't feel the guilt and remorse you obviously feel," she pointed out. "You wouldn't have been out in the middle of the wilderness teaching peasants how to protect themselves from bandits as a form of penance. Because if things had gone differently, you might have ended up as one of my Warden brothers under my command."

"Why would you take in a murderer like me? Wardens are supposed to be heroes. Those who are forever vigilant against the greatest of evils ever known. Who sacrifice everything for a world that would never fully appreciate it," I said passionately. It was primarily why I had pretended so long to be a Warden, so that I could pretend to be a man who was so much more than I was, could ever be as myself.

"Because in spite of your past actions, more Wardens should be like you. You're not even a Warden and you're better than a great many of them have ever been," she argued. "You think you're the only murderer amongst our ranks. The only one who promoted mass slaughter and killed innocents? Children? You're at least repentant. It took many years for Velanna, a woman I personally recruited, to admit, reluctantly, that she had been wrong to kill the people she had. To this day, though she has since let go of the hatred she felt for humans, she still doesn't feel guilty for what she did."

"Are any of the Wardens the heroes people think they are?" I asked her, deeply saddened by what she just told me. Wardens summoning demons, the Hero of Fereldan being a blood mage and the fact that there could be Wardens out there who were remorseless killers... My perception of the Order was tarnished.

Warden-Commander Amell smiled at me. To say it was a pretty smile, would be to do it a disservice. It was beautiful, radiant even. It easily lifted my spirits. "Let me tell you about Alistair Theirin..."