"Here, I have something for you."

Nike looked up from where she sat by the Warden's fire to see Alistair holding her quiver. Another was over his shoulder, and both were filled with arrows fletched with dark red edged in black. Taking hers, she pulled out one of the arrows. It had an odd, blue gray tip.

"Silver?" she asked. Why someone would tip arrows in a metal that was not only rare and valuable, but less effective to the purpose?

Alistair shook his head as he sat down beside her. Nearby, Tahja hovered. She'd barely left Nike's side since she woke up.

"Not silver," he said. "It's called silverite. Doesn't just wound your target, it makes them feel as if they're freezing to their bones. If they're not killed by the shot, they become sluggish, disoriented; as if they're suffering the effects of a naked winter in the Frostback mountains. We couldn't bring many and the metal is rare enough as it is. Use them well, there'll be no more once these are out."

He watched her watch the fire for a long moment. The sun was setting red and purple, as ominous dark clouds gathered. Rain was coming.

"Did you dream?" Alistair asked at length. She did not answer.

"I had the most terrible dreams after my Joining," he said after the pause grew too pregnant for his liking. "Most Wardens do."

"I saw…the darkspawn, I think," Nike said, watching the fire. "And…at the end…a dragon?"

"That's the archdemon," he said. "It's how we know this is a real Blight. Unless it's an echo from past Blights but I don't think that's the case. Neither does Duncan. Do you?"

He seemed to want some sort of specific reaction from her, some indication, perhaps, that she did more than just see the dragon.

"I'm sure I'm not qualified," she replied.

"You're a Warden now. You're as qualified as any on this matter."

"It…didn't feel like an echo."

He nodded, apparently satisfied, then looked up as a shadow covered the dying sunlight.

"Nike, how are you feeling?" Duncan asked.

Nike got to her feet, automatically swinging the quiver over her shoulder. "I'm fine," she said, pausing as he lifted his hand. Draped through his fingers was a small silver chain, and from it dangled a small, dark crystal. Her brows knit as she took it.

It wasn't a crystal at all, but a tiny glass vial. It was sealed airtight and filled with some kind of black fluid.

"When a Warden passes the Joining, we put some of the darkspawn blood into a pendant," Duncan said as she looked at it. "It is a reminder of the sacrifice and vows you have now made."

Shifting the chain, Nike put the pendant on. She had not seen Duncan nor Alistair wearing one. Perhaps they were meant to be hidden, and not flaunted? Well, she had no desire to flaunt hers at any rate. This wasn't an heirloom gold necklace or a flashy ring that had been in the family for years. It seemed right it be hidden.

As soon as she had it on, she tucked the pendant away from view under the collar of her shirt. It was remarkably cold against her skin.

"The meeting with the King will begin soon," Duncan said. "I believe he wants his troops in place the moment full dark has fallen. If you both will join me? Tahja, please remain here."

The elf looked between Duncan and Nike, concerned and uncertain.

"It's all right, I'm fine. I'll see you again soon," Nike told her, with no idea if that was even true. As they left camp, Holly on their heels, Nike glanced back at her. The elf was her only tie left to home right now, until she could see her brother again. Though she knew she would be well protected back here in camp, a pang wormed its way into her gut.

Stop being a frightened little girl, she thought, and followed the Wardens.

Ostagar had been frenetic and crowded when they'd first arrived, but now everything had increased ten-fold. Elves and human men and women moved and jostled and caught up in knots as they tried to reach their varying destinations. The ring of smithy hammers and hiss of cooling steel was everywhere. Horses, some as lithe and small as ponies, others big war beasts with hooves the size of serving platters, were being saddled, or shoed, or loaded with various bundles. Mabari gathered in small packs or paced beside soldiers, most painted in intricate designs or runes intended not only to grant them protection, but also to merge the scent of dog and master so that allies were not attacked in the chaos of battle.

Forests of spears, halberds, bills, pikes, and javelins rose above heads both armored and bare. Nike craned her head a bit as they passed the mage camp to see if she could spot her brother. The air here was charged like that before a heavy thunderstorm, the gathered robed and staved figures so tightly clustered that if Fergus was among them, she could not see him.

As they got nearer their destination, they passed an area that she had not seen before. This section of the camp bore the sun insignia of the Chantry. Every few feet, dozens or more soldiers, fighters, stewards, and errand folk huddled on their knees. With their hands clasped they murmured in a low, desultory tone as one Chantry sister or another held her hands out over their heads in benediction. The air here reeked of the incense the sisters used for blessings.

The King's meeting tent was overcrowded and overwarm. Nike didn't think they'd even get past the flap without a liberal use of elbows. Then, the King called above the din.

"Make way for the Wardens! Let them enter!"

A gap formed and they started to move through. Cailan held his arms out wide to Duncan.

"At last! We were just about to get to the meat and bones. Come, come!"

More men shifted, a few with grumbles, and space appeared right at the edge of the massive table and its maps and charts.

Loghain was beside Cailan, and only spared them a cursory glance. "If we can get back to the plan, Highness?"

Nike suspected this wasn't the first time Mac Tir had tried to get the king back into focus. She didn't know much of Cailan, but she suspected that getting him back into focus was a full-time job in and of itself.

"Right, right," Cailan said, regarding the map again and the various carved little figurines scattered upon it, that Nike took to represent troop movements. He shifted a few of these, clustering them in together. "We'll have a third of the men here, in position just at moonrise, about half an hour from now. The darkspawn horde will be coming along here, and their scouts cannot miss the bait."

He traced a finger over a route between swirling lines on the map. Nike leaned a little, trying to get a better view. "The horde will be lured into the valley just below the wall. We will engage, and once the bulk of the horde is fully committed, your men- " here his eyes flicked briefly to Loghain, "-will close in on them from their hidden positions here, and here."

It was a typical pinscher movement. Nike remembered seeing it on her father's maps when she was very young, as he and Howe relived their battles as young men against Orlais.

"The horde will be surrounded, and with no retreat and no way forward, they'll quickly be done with," Cailan said, planting his hands on his hips with a pleased little smile on his face, as if he was surveying a tray full of mouthwatering fruit tarts he had just finished decorating.

"I still believe this is foolish," Loghain said. "This will unnecessarily cost men. Lives."

"So, you've changed your mind then on waiting for reinforcements from Orlais?" Cailan asked, neither looking at the older man nor shifting his pleased little smile.

Loghain seemed to swell slightly. "I have said this time and time again, we do not need the Orleisians- "

"Then this will have to suffice," Cailan said.

"Where shall we be?" Duncan asked. He was as well regarding the map, but less like it was a tray of artfully done pastries and more as if it were an adder that may or may not be dead.

"With me," Cailan said enthusiastically. His finger gestured toward the troops acting as bait. "Well, us. In the middle."

"Have you considered an archdemon may appear?" Duncan asked, giving no indication on whether this placement of the Wardens or the king bothered him or not.

"That is precisely why I want you Wardens there with me, fighting shoulder to shoulder against the Blight, just like the tales." His eyes were sparkling again.

"And if an archdemon does not appear?" Loghain asked bitingly. Cailan sighed as if this were also a discussion that had been worn to death before.

"Then this will have to do," he said, almost sing-song.

"How is it that Loghain's men will know when to close the trap?" Duncan asked.

Cailan's finger jabbed down to a circle on the map. Nike leaned forward slightly to get a better look. The circle appeared to be on the other side of the bridge they had first crossed when they'd arrived. She remembered her initial meeting with the king on that bridge and hoped her slight surge of shame at the memory was not showing upon her face.

"The Tower of Ishal," Cailan said. "The topmost level contains a signal fire that was originally used to send warnings along a string of towers all over Ferelden and Orlais. They haven't been used in ages for that purpose. Most aren't even standing any more, and the ones that are, are not manned. We'll have a man with a crow ready to send it to the tower as a signal to light. When Loghain sees that beacon lit, he will send his men in from all sides to close the trap and box the darkspawn in."

"I have men already stationed there," Loghain said, but Duncan was shaking his head.

"We will handle lighting the signal fire," Duncan said, and looked at the pair of them. "Alistair, I want you and Nike in position at the tower, ready to light that beacon the moment word is delivered."

There was a bit of a clamor on two fronts as both Loghain and Alistair tried to speak at once.

"You do not trust my men-?"

"What? We won't be in the fight-?"

Cailan held up his hand to Loghain and said something to him that Nike didn't quite catch. She was too focused on Duncan and Alistair. Unlike the young man, Nike wasn't exactly disappointed she would not be in the thick of the fight. She had never had any desire to be in battle, even against mundane foes. In such a battle as this, against darkspawn? No, she'd much rather be well out of it. Clearly, Alistair did not feel the same.

"Nike is still too new, too untrained, to be in the heat of battle," Duncan said to Alistair. "You have more experience, but even you are too fresh as a Grey Warden and our numbers here are too few to risk all of them in the heart of this fight."

"What if an archdemon appears?" Alistair asked.

"Then it is even more important that you and Nike are out of the way," Duncan said. "If the archdemon appears you both will leave it to the older Wardens to handle."

The look on Alistair's face made it suddenly easy to see how he must have looked as a young boy. His thoughts were written as plainly as if he had spoken them. My first real battle and I am left to be little more than a messenger boy.

"Now that that is settled, it is nearly time," Cailan said. "We have less than an hour to get everyone into place before the darkspawn will be upon us. If there are no further questions or protests?"

His eyes searched the crowded tent, but no one spoke up. Even Loghain seemed to have given up on his protests, though he still looked none too pleased. His dark eyes, glinting like flecks of quartz in shale, were fixed upon the king.

"Fine. Let us go with the Maker. Duncan, you will join me."

The crowd started to shift its way out of the tent, but Duncan put out a hand and held Nike and Alistair back a moment from following. "Get your weapons together and wrap up any last-minute business you might have, then head for the tower. I will see you both after this battle is decided."

Alistair looked like he wanted to put in a final protest, thought better of it, and just said in a chastened tone, "Yes, Duncan."

"Nike, having your mabari with you would also be wise," Duncan said to her.

"Will Tahja and those at camp-" Nike began, but he shook his head.

"So long as this battle goes in our favor, they will be fine. The darkspawn will not reach that far. If things go poorly, there is an evacuation plan that will hopefully get the bulk of the camp to safety in time, but truth be told tonight will not be safe for any of us. There is nothing more we can do to protect anyone. Go now. If I'm able I will see you again with the sunrise."

Then he turned back to Cailan, and Alistair put a hand on her arm. "C'mon. Let's get moving. We don't have much time."

As they left the tent, Nike looked back once more to see both Duncan and the king murmuring together in tones far too low to hear. Loghain had vanished but she could hear his voice barking orders somewhere not too distant. Just before the flap of the tent fell shut behind them again, Duncan looked up and met her eyes, then gave her a solemn nod. She had a feeling it was meant to be somewhat reassuring, but she did not feel reassured in the slightest.

Then the flap was down, and he was gone from sight.