Chapter III

Frustration

The Warden-Commander was in a terrible mood. Everyone that knew better stayed out of his way as he furiously paced the halls. Vigil's Keep's security had tightened considerably since the King's Guard had arrived. Anyone caught slacking, and Aedan did catch quite a few of them sleeping as he roamed the halls, were told they had just earned every Warden in the Keep a special punishment. They were not told what the it was or when the punishment would take place, however. They waited anxiously for further orders.

After the King and his guard had left Aedan Cousland had announced that he was doubling their daily training exercises. What was worse was the fact that he also informed them that he would be leading them himself. This was met with a chorus of groans and complaints, along with a few tears. Regular training was strenuous at best. With Cousland in charge half of them would be puking their guts out before noon. There was no complaining, though. Cousland did all their drills right with them, and with heavy plate on. They had to keep silent because their Commander was puking right there with them.

Only Arnaud and Sienna knew what had sparked this latest project. When the Commander was pissed, he found a positive outlet. And if he couldn't find one he made one.

It was all good and well that Aedan like to keep busy, but did he have to involve the rest of them? Arnaud grumbled those thoughts out loud as he did his fiftieth pushup. Sienna was beside him, still on push up number thirty. He didn't imagine the Templars made the mages do much vigorous exercise. He was only keeping up because of his old training as a Chevalier. "I'm too old for this," he moaned the cliché as his nose touched the ground lightly. Sienna somehow managed to giggle between breaths. Maker, the mage was clinging to him like a leech. It didn't seem likely that he'd be able to get rid of her.

"I know he's pissed about getting married, but can't he take up knitting or crocheting? Or, better yet, he could find a tavern wench and-"

Arnaud burst out laughing and almost couldn't lift himself off the ground. The idea of the Warden-Commander nonchalantly walking into one of Amaranthine's taverns and trying to seduce one of the barmaids was ridiculous. Perhaps this mage wouldn't be such a pain.

"Something amusing, Cartier?" The Commander had broken off from the drill so that he could monitor everyone's progress. "I thought I had recruited a Chevalier. Right now it seems I have an Orlesian court jester on my hands. Well," he said, picking Arnaud up by the back of his shirt. "If you can find such humor down in the mud I can't imagine what jokes you'll discover on the Point's staircase." Arnaud blanched; the Point was Vigil's Keep's tallest tower. Cousland gave him a light push in its direction. "Run up and down the staircase until you've stopped laughing."

"Oh, I believe I've stopped laughing already."

The Commander, surprisingly, did not believe him. "Go. And take Warden Sienna with you. I saw her giggling earlier." He turned to the rest of the Wardens, shouting, "If any of the rest of you want to follow in their footsteps you can still catch up with King Alistair. Perhaps he's in need of a jester for I have no use of one here."

Arnaud didn't want to hear the rest of it. He jogged to the Point's base, not waiting to see if Sienna was following him. He should have known better. She was young, she wanted what was normally considered unwanted attention. But he was over forty. He couldn't deal with such nonsense like running up an impossibly tall staircase.

She was better at running than she was at pushups. Sienna caught up to him quickly and grabbed his arm once they reached the top of the Point. "Now that we can talk-"

"Talk?" Arnaud repeated, gasping. "I can barely breathe."

She was undeterred. "I wanted to discuss the Commander's situation."

Arnaud growled at her. "Leave it be. He doesn't need our help in the matter and he definitely doesn't need us gossiping."

"But you're Orlesian. Surely you must want to play matchmaker for the Commander?" Sienna looked up at him expectantly. Arnaud just stared back at her, open-mouthed.

"That's rascist. You're a rascist." He started back down the stairs. "Not all Orlesians like meddling in the love affairs of others, you bloody turnip."

"Hey!" She stumbled down after him. "He needs help! Can you imagine him trying to court anyone? Here, love, I brought you back this darkspawn skull! Won't it look lovely above the fireplace?" Her impersonation of the Commander was less than flattering.

Arnaud rolled his eyes and kept going downwards. "It's nice that you're concerned, but what makes you think he'll come to us?" He was suddenly regretting that second helping of eggs.

After training was finished, Aedan went to his office feeling very unsatisfied. And hungry. The morning drills had caused himself and half of his men to vomit what little breakfast they had dared to eat. Now that his stomach had finally settled down it was begging to be filled again.

When Nathaniel finally turned up Aedan was working on his third plate of breads, fruits, and cheeses. He tossed an apple at the archer, saying, "It's about time you showed. We need to talk."

Nathaniel ducked under the thrown apple out of reflex before he realized Aedan had meant for him to catch it. Recovering, he smirked, "I heard there's going to be wedding bells soon."

Aedan didn't join in the joke. He told Nathaniel seriously, "Don't remind me."

"Wait. That rumor's true?"

"Unfortunately."

Nathaniel seemed amused by his misery. "Ah, that's why you're torturing the recruits. But you can't tell me you've never been in this position before."

Aedan shrugged. "I haven't. Since Fergus was already married and had a child my parents didn't see the need to rush me into an arranged marriage. They did try, once."

"What did you do the the girl?" Nathaniel assumed the fault was entirely Aedan's. He was right to do so.

"If she ever starts speaking to me again I'll let you know."

There was a bit of an awkward silence after that. Finally Aedan decided to put things into perspective. "Okay, the marriage issue is troubling, but I have other things to contend with first. Like the Champion's banquet."

Nathaniel turned thoughtful. "You know, there will be a lot of nobles there. At the banquet, I mean. It'd be a good place to look for your bride. Though, stay away from the Kirkwall nobles—they tend to be crazy. And the Orlesian ladies are...Orlesian. That just leaves Ferelden nobles, really."

"It's probably better that way," Aedan admitted. He started cleaning up his desk and then promptly gave up on it. "Oh, Nathaniel, one more thing... You'll be taking over as Commander while I'm gone. I thought that'd be obvious, but just in case in needs to be said there it is."

The archer wasn't so certain. "Are you sure about that?"

"I don't even know how you could ask me that. You're the only one here suited for command. Just do what I would do."

"As you say."

Aedan groaned. "I was kidding. Do as you would do. Anyway, I need to think of a suitable gift to present the Champion. I'm not bringing her a sword or a shield. Everyone will be doing that cliché. This sword was forged in the fires of a volcano by who even cares?"

"The Champion is a mage, is she not? Then why don't you consult a mage?"

"That's a start," Aedan agreed with a sigh. "How many mages do we have?"

Nathaniel snorted. "Not many. The Templars don't let us in the Circle anymore. Mostly because of you."

"Maker, conscript one murdering mage and you never hear the end of it." Aedan sank in his chair so far it took him awhile to get up. Perhaps he should have toned down the drills a tad. "Fine. Do you know where..." It took him a minute. "Sienna! That's it. D'you know where she would be?"

"This is just a guess, but probably still running up those stairs."

"Why would she be..." He remembered and promptly jumped up. "Damn. Poor sods. I'd best go collect them."

Nathaniel agreed with him completely. "Just follow the sounds of vomiting, Commander."

Hawke entered The Hanged Man to a lovely chorus of retching noises. She stepped lightly over the undigested mess, and the man who made it, and headed up to Varric's private suite. She caught a few curious stares, but that was only because her hood hid her face. Cover up your face and suddenly everyone wants to know who you are, she thought, pausing before Varric's doorway. She could hear Isabela's gaudy laughter and couldn't help but grin. Her lip split open again from the effort.

Without a word, Hawke walked into Varric's room and yanked the hood off of her face. Isabela saw her first, glancing behind her as she took a long drink. She shrieked and nearly choked on her ale. "Hawke? Is that you? Why are you dripping blood?"

Anders and Varric snapped to attention at that. Anders almost turned over his chair in his hurry to get to her. "What happened? Are you hurt? Let me-"

Hawke grabbed Anders's arm and shoved his hand away before his healing magic could touch her. "Anders, my dog. Please, go to my estate and help him. He's been poisoned."

Laying down his cards and revealing a rather poor hand, Varric told her, "Hawke, I've seen Legion corpses that looked better than you do now. You need to tell us what's going on."

"What's going on is that I'll kick Anders's ass if he lets my dog die." Hawke used Anders's arm to throw him towards the door. "Go. I'm fine. This blood is mostly someone else's."

Anders looked as though he wanted to argue, but Hawke's blood smeared glare was enough to get him moving. Sighing in relief, Hawke sat down next to Isabela, who was still staring at her. "Uh," Hawke asked Varric sheepishly, "Can I get a bowl of water? And a few towels? I didn't have time to..." Suddenly she sat up straight and glanced about in a panic. "Fenris isn't here, is he?"

"Lanky, you mean? No, he isn't here. Such a shame that." Isabela chuckled, taking out one of her handkerchiefs. She dampened a corner with her mouth and tried to clean up Hawke's face. "Hawke, this is going to take a bit more elbow grease than I thought. And maybe some soap."

"I'll have someone bring soap and water," Varric offered. He added, slyly, "But only if I get the story."

"Why would I expect anything else?" Hawke laughed, which was an eerie sight at the moment. "And I'll gladly tell you what went down, but I'd appreciate it Varric if you wouldn't exaggerate this one. We don't need Kirkwall freaking out more than they need to."

Varric smirked. "You mean you don't need the elf freaking out more than-"

"Do you want the tale or not?" Hawke demanded. The barmaid arrived with a pail of water that soon turned pink after Hawke plunged her hands into it. "We're going to need another one of these," she muttered.

It wasn't until Hawke had cleaned herself completely of all blood and muck that she revealed to Varric and Isabela what had happened. They both were interested in very different aspects.

"He nearly blew you up and you still defeated him? I can't even make that sound plausible."

Isabela cut in swiftly, "You fought him naked?"

"Almost naked," Hawke corrected her. "There's a slight difference." She shakily got to her feet and brushed herself off. "Now, I need to get back to check on my dog. Who wants to carry me back home?"

"Literally?"

There were no takers. Isabela and Varric both offered to escort her back to the estate, though. Hawke accepted the company gladly. She was in a hurry to see if Rebel was all right. It was really difficult to imagine him not being fine. The Maker had taken enough from her. He could leave her dog be.

Moira sat at the base of the Point, barking every so often to remind Arnaud and Sienna to keep running. Sometimes it frightened Aedan when his dog attempted to steal his job. He jogged up to her and relieved her of her self-appointed duty. "Leave them be, girl. The cook's got a..."

Before Aedan could finish his sentence Moira was off, tearing her way to the kitchens at the slightest mention of a meal. If Anders was still with them the mage would have made some comment about Aedan being the same way. Oh, why hadn't he taken his bloody cat with him? Commanding an entire keep was difficult enough without having a small and rather useless feline to contend with.

Aedan waited for Arnaud and Sienna to make it back down to the bottom before he ordered them to stop. They tried to salute and double over in pain at the same time, which was a sad sight. "At ease, Wardens," Aedan told them quickly. He didn't need them passing out before he got the chance to ask Sienna his question.

"What did you need, Commander?" Cartier was the first to recover.

"I'm here for Warden Sienna, actually," Aedan admitted and turned to the mage. "I find myself in need of a mage's expertise. I need to present the Champion of Kirkwall with a gift. What would you say would be appropriate?"

Aedan was confused by the triumphant look she shot Cartier. "Women love jewelry, Commander."

He didn't like that. "I'm getting a gift for a Champion, Warden. I want to get her something useful, as well as eloquent. Do you have any thoughts on that or am I wasting my time?"

"No, Commander. I'll think of something. Do we have an Enchanter on hand?"

"Of course. She's not as good as a dwarf I once knew was, but she'll do." Aedan looked down at Sienna curiously. "What are we enchanting?"

She told him and he nodded approvingly. She warned him, "It may take some time to procure such an object, but it'll be done."

He took that into account. "Fine. Take a horse and do what you must." He dropped a fat coin purse into her hands. "That should take care of whatever you need. Meet us in Amaranthine before we take ship. The rest of us are leaving tomorrow at dawn."

"Yes, Commander."

Aedan made to leave and then turned back. "Warden Cartier, are you any good with horses?"

"Are you asking because I'm Orlesian?" Sienna kicked Cartier hard when he said that.

"I'm asking because you were a Chevalier. That is also Orlesian. I thought you were all raised on horseback."

"Not all of us, but I was."

"Then I want you to come with. I'm taking a few of my household guard, and as competent as they are, they are no horsemen. And," he confessed sullenly, "Neither am I."

Cartier had no objections. "As you command."

"I do." Aedan nodded at them both and hoped he hadn't just made a horrible decision. He was ready to reenter the Keep and see about getting dessert when he heard shouting and fighting coming from the Keep's entrance. He grumbled and motioned to Cartier and Sienna both. "With me."

The Warden's guarding the door were trying their damnedest to keep a woman out without seriously hurting her. Each time they shoved her away she threw herself at them again. Aedan went in to rectify the situation. "Mistress! What in the name of the Maker are you doing?" He had hoped that throwing the name of the Maker in there would catch her attention. She looked like the crazy religious sort.

She whirled on him, pulling up her skirts out of the mud. "You! You took my daughter!"

Aedan squinted at her, but nothing jogged his memory. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're screaming about, Mistress. You'll have to give me a name." And that might not even help.

The woman was looking behind him. She pointed. "Her! That's my girl! I sent her to the Circle. They promised me she'd be safe! And you took her away! To rot in the Deep Roads!"

"Ah." Aedan stared back at Sienna, waiting for an answer. He had never seen the mage's eyes so lifeless and cold. She stepped up beside him.

"I was young when I was taken in by the Templars. I do not know this woman and do not care to. That is the truth, Commander." She finished rather cruelly, "She is no mother of mine."

"Should I have her escorted home?" Aedan had little experience in this. Anders had never quite forgiven his parents for letting him go so easily. The blood mage Jowan whom Aedan had met in Redcliffe had mentioned that his parents had thought he was an abomination and a sinful thing. If Sienna wished this woman thrown out he would not blame her.

"It is your decision, Commander. I wish to be kept out of it." She said something to Cartier in a whisper as she walked away, and he followed her, complaining, "Maker, I hope you don't want to talk about this."

Nodding to her as Sienna passed by, Aedan ordered the woman to be gently taken to the nearest village and then set loose. She shouted things at him while she was dragged away, curses that he hadn't even heard before. It was an education, at least. And, what was worse, she was not wrong.

What did he give these men and women besides nightmares and an early death? Becoming a Warden had not been a choice for him. It had been an ultimatum. Join or die. It was a choice he had hated at the time and had not understood. And now what did he do? He found the desperate and abandoned and offered them that same choice, knowing that they could do nothing but accept. He stayed with the new recruits for days after they preformed the joining ritual, sitting by their bedside as they thrashed and pierced his heart with their silent screams. Going through the pain himself was one thing; it was hard to stand watching another go through it themselves.

In the end he could offer them little comfort. He woke them up and explained to them what they were seeing and that they'd be seeing it again. And again. And soon they'd be able to sleep through it and maybe even wake up one day without wishing they hadn't.

He had no skill at speeches, but he gave them his words nonetheless. There would never be a day when he felt that was enough.

"Stop! Stop. That's enough, boy!" Hawke tried to push Rebel off her but it was hopeless. She had to wait until Anders took pity on her and pulled her dog off her. Hawke laid back on her bed, breathing hard. "Thank you, Anders. My lungs and ribs appreciate it."

"Your dog is fine. Now can I heal you?" Anders didn't even wait to hear her answer. The room filled with his light blue healing magic until he was satisfied that she had gone from mostly dead to just moderately wounded. "There? Feel better?"

"I would if you weren't killing yourself trying to heal me." Hawke craned her neck so she could look at him in the eyes. "Why don't you stay here tonight? So you don't have to crawl all the way to Darktown," she added quickly, as if she needed a reason. A reason other than she didn't think she'd survive being blown up again.

Anders gave her that tired smile that was so like her father's. "Okay. I'll just be downstairs."

"I'll obviously be here," she returned. She waved to him, knowing there would be no sleep tonight. Not while she was so angry.

She would not be so defenseless, so reliant on those she loved again.