Alistair pouted the entire walk back to Ostagar. Octavia led the group behind Morrigan as she guided them through the Wilds. Morrigan's mother had done nothing but tease and make fun of the men and had complemented Octavia. The witch even proclaimed she liked Octavia. "There is a sensible request. I like you."

Pfft. "I like you."

Octavia idly chatted with Morrigan as they made their way back. Well, more like chatted at Morrigan, but the apostate didn't seem to mind her babbling. Alistair huffed every time Morrigan smiled openly at the other woman. Alistair rushed Octavia's goodbye when Morrigan declared she had taken them far enough.

Octavia still managed to thank Morrigan for all the help she gave before Alistair practically dragged her to the gates.

"I can't believe you just walked up to her! She could've turned you into a toad!" Daveth laughed and grasped her shoulder.

Octavia blushed and pushed loose strands of hair behind her ear. "They seemed nice. If they were going to kill us or turn us into toads, they wouldn't have wasted so much time talking." Daveth's head swung back with an uproar of laughter.

Jory rolled his eyes. He had tried to warn them that the apostates were dangerous. But Octavia just had to walk up to them, chat with them, smile and joke as if nothing was wrong with them. And sure, they hadn't necessarily done anything bad to them while they were there, they didn't threaten the group or hurt them. But they were still Witches of the Wilds! They could've hurt them, and that should've been enough!

Alistair just pouted harder the more Daveth and Octavia joked about the apostates. "There's a ruined temple to the northeast, Duncan will want you to head up there. I'll take the treaties and the vials to him."

The recruits walked off on their own, Daveth making jokes to try to make Octavia laugh and Jory huffing and asking them questions they clearly didn't have the answers to.

Alistair made his way to the mages area, where Duncan waited patiently. He stood watching the mages work, preparing the Joining goblet and other aspects on his behalf. His shoulders were slumped, the thumb and forefinger massaging his salt and pepper brown.

Duncan didn't need to turn around to know who was coming behind them. "How did they do?"

Alistair shuffled his feet. "Daveth was competent. Takes direction well, he really helped Octavia in the field. Jory…" He scrunched his nose slightly, "is not doing well. He struggles taking orders, he doesn't seem to want to do the hard parts." Alistair looked around uncomfortably before adding, "There was a woman at the tower and her mother had the scrolls. They were both very… odd."

Duncan turned to look at the younger man, "Were they wilder folk?"

"I don't think so. They might be apostates; mages hiding from the Chantry."

Duncan sighed heavily and turned his attention back to the mages. "I know you were once a templar, Alistair, but Chantry business is not ours. We have the scrolls; let us focus on the Joining." Alistair scratched the back of his neck and reached in his pack to hand Duncan the treaties but was waved off by Duncan. "Hold them."

Alistair nodded and kept the papers in his pack. He shuffled his feet and turned towards the temple the recruits were at.

"And Octavia?"

Alistair looked over at Duncan, who continued to watch the mages. "She's… surprisingly capable. Daveth worked with her for about an hour with the bow and she managed to do some damage out there. When Jory wanted to turn back, she kept him focused. She actually managed to give them a strategy and kept them to it. She interacted with the apostates better than the rest of us. She did seem a little… spacey. But it sounded like something happened to her family…" Alistair shuffled over to stand next to Duncan. "Is… is she a noblewoman?"

Duncan swallowed and straightened his back. "She is the daughter of Teryn Bryce Cousland." Alistair's eyebrows shot up, he looked at Duncan with his mouth wide open. "Their castle was attacked, and I managed to escape with Lady Octavia and her mabari. Bryce raised his children well. She was supposed to become teyrna over her brother. She studied war strategies, managing an army, running a castle and teynirs. The wardens could use that knowledge; there are only a few dozen of us in Ferelden."

Alistair bit his lip and fiddled with the leather belt of his armor. "She didn't want to come, did she?"

"We all must do things we don't want to stop the blight."

Alistair focused on his feet, heart dropping to his stomach at her reality. "She mentioned her brother came here before what happened at the castle."

Duncan nodded, "I'll speak to the king about it."

Alistair dragged his body back to the old temple, desperately wishing he had probed for information.

As he made his way up the stairs, he could see Daveth and Jory squabbling and Octavia sat on a bench a few feet away, staring off into the distance, her faithful war hound sitting at her feet. Alistair wanted to know what she was thinking. She handled herself so well out there despite all she's been through the last week, and felt sick thinking about questioning Duncan's decision to recruit her.

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die. If nobody stops the darkspawn, we'll die for sure."

"I've just never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade."

"Marker! Shut. Up." Octavia rubbed her temple with her fingers. Her mabari nosed her hand until she scratched his ears.

Alistair shuffled over to her and reached a hand out pet the Mabari. "So, uh, Calenhad, is it? Like the first king?"

Octavia simpered, "He was a dog handler before he was king."

Octavia finally looked up into his eyes; her throat burned and her lip began to quiver. His eyes were so soft and invititng, just like… Darrian.

Alistair saw a single tear slowly fall down her cheek. He reached out to wiped it off her cheek, "A-are you ok-"

"At last, we come to the Joining." Duncan walked into the small area, carrying a tray with a chalice and the vial. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

"We're… going to drink the blood of those… those creatures?" Jory started to shake.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory."

Alistair looked at Octavia. She kissed the top of her dog's head, as a tear ran down her face. His stomach twiste.

Alistair stood and turned to address the others. "Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon."

Octavia took a deep breath to keep herself from crying. "Those who survive?"

"Not all who drink the blood will survive and those who do are forever changed. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay." The air in the ruined temple was sucked out as Duncan continued talking, the tension among them suffocating. "We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair bit his lip and looked down at the girl silently crying to her dog. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke quietly, "Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

Jory's eyes jumped back and forth between the group and the joining chalice. He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Daveth step forward."

Duncan brought the chalice to Daveth, who took it without hesitation. He spared a final friendly smile to Octavia, who managed to return it through the tears. Daveth took a sip and slowly the world around him began to spin. Voices and a song began to swim around his head, flood his brain and his senses. He could feel bile coming up his throat, he wrapped his hand around his neck, desperate to get the feeling out of his body. He lost the feeling in his body as he convulsed. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell to the ground.

Octavia starred with bulging eyes; her hands covered her mouth. Jory walked backwards towards the exit.

"I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan's voice was solemn. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut and faced the ground, sending a silent prayer to the Maker. He then turned to face the knight. "Step forward, Jory."

Jory stumbled backwards, pulling his sword from its sheath. "But… I have a wife. A child! Had I known…" He stuttered and frantically looked to Alistair and Octavia, who were avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"There is no turning back." Duncan placed the chalice on the table and turned to advance on Jory.

Jory raised his sword, determined. "No! You ask to much! There is no glory in this!"

Duncan remorsefully pulled his dagger from its sheath and moved towards the knight. He fought Jory before driving his dagger into his stomach. The knight's body slumped forward against Duncan. "I am sorry." He whispered in the dying man's ear as he pulled away and allowed Jory's body to fall to the floor.

"But the Joining is not yet complete." Octavia's heart hammered in her chest; her body trembled violently as she forced down the sob that threatened to spill out. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good." Octavia wiped the tears on her face as Duncan brought forth the Joining chalice.

Alistair crossed his arm over his chest, his other coming up to cover his mouth. He took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his body to look the other direction.

Octavia swallowed the lump in her throat as she took the chalice in her shaking hands. She bit her lip and looked up to meet Duncan's eyes. She breathed and accepted that at least she'll be with her Darrien once again and took a sip.

Her body convulsed and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her head filled with the song, she could feel her heartbeat in her head. Her visioned blurred before her hands shot up and grabbed her head as it throbbed. Octavia's head forced itself upwards as her eyes rolled back into her head. She felt arms wrap around her slender frame as she fell forward.


Alistair sat on a chair beside the cot in Octavia's tent, his elbows rested on his bouncing legs, and his chin rested in his hands. Octavia was brought into her tent to rest after she collapsed in the old temple so they could clean the blood and bodies from the floor.

The healer came in and removed her armor and changed her into a simple tunic and covered her with a blanket. Alistair sat in her tent from the minute she was transported there. Alistair felt wrong leaving her. She has witnessed so much death. He refused to leave when the healers came to check on her, refused to leave when Duncan had insisted he needed to prepare for battle. He even refused to leave when the king came in to see the sleeping girl.

Cailan came to see her very shortly after hearing she survived the Joining. He hovered her, thinking of the thousands of ways this would break her father's heart and make him so proud. Her eyes were so sunken, and her lips were dried and chapped. He dragged a hand over his face and moved her hair behind her ears. He spared a glance to Alistair, who was staring at his feet.

"Did… has she mentioned her family?"

Alistair continued to stare at his feet, never looking up at Cailan. Cailan never looked back at him, eyes trained on the sleeping woman. "A little."

Calian rolled his shoulders back. He moved to sit on the side of Octavia's cot, causing Alistair to visibly stiffen. Calian took her hand, holding it tighter than he probably should. He couldn't help thinking of all playdates and balls they attended together. Bryce would always bring her and Fergus to the castle when he met with Maric, and unlike Loghain, Bryce never once pushed for his daughter to "get along" with him. Fergus would drag her out of the library to play with them on the training fields, and she'd always "watch" them while reading a book under a tree.

"You'll get my dress dirty, Fergus!"

He smiled and cupped her cheek, running his thumb back and forth over her skin.

Alistair let out a cough, loud enough to make Calian flinch, yanking his hand away from her face.

"She mentioned her brother was here." Alistair spoke up, desperately wanting the king to leave.

"I'll see to it."

Alistair glanced up at the king, and quickly back at his feet. The air felt hotter and hotter by the second. Neither knowing what to say – or if they should say anything. Octavia never stirred, never making a sound, or moving a muscle. The only indication of her life was the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Calian stole a look at the younger man. He wondered how his – their father would feel about his becoming a Grey Warden. He assumed he might be proud. Calian had heard the amazing tales of the Wardens and the griffons they use to ride on. He always spoke so highly of them, and Duncan had been around him since he was a baby. How fitting Duncan ended up recruiting his son, it made Cailan wonder how much Duncan knew about the boy. After Maric died, Calian had still reached out to Eamon for updates on Alistair.

Calian stood abruptly, "I… Someone will bring her a ration."

Alistair nodded the slightest in acknowledgement as Calian all but ran from the tent.

The "rations" the king sent in were seasoned meat and a glass of aged red wine. Alistair also had a bedroll to sleep on in the communal sleeping area while the newest recruit had her own tent and bed cot, much like the noblemen who brought their own armies – but he figured that was to be expected.

After the king's men left the tent, Alistair quickly disposed of the wine. Instead pouring her a glass of water with the carafe they had prepared in the tent. He heard a groan and turned to see Octavia stirring on the cot. He took a seat on the chair again and cleared his throat to make his presence known.

"You're awake." He said quietly. "The king sent you something to eat and some water. You should drink some after what you've been through…"

His voice barely registered at first. She slowly blinked opened her eyes and the world flooded back to her. Octavia sat up, rubbing her eyes gently. She looked around the tent and took in where she was. She turned to sit on the cot and stare at the food.

Alistair watched her stare at the plate in front of her. He couldn't help but think her eyes looked dead. "In my Joining, only one of us died but it was… horrible. I'm glad at least one of you made it through."

She poked at meat in front of her with her fork. "The king sent this, huh?" She smiled slightly. "I'm surprised Calian didn't send wine. He's sweet like that."

Alistair opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted when Duncan pulled the tent flaps open and emerged.

"You're awake. Are you feeling better?" Duncan raised a brow at the meal she poked at.

Octavia took a deep breath and met his eyes. "Of course."

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair called attention to himself, "I had terrible dreams after my Joining." Alistair voice was funereal, his eyes downcast to the ground. His stomach felt knotted as he looked up at her and saw her spacey look.

"Such dreams come when you begin to sense he darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other things that can be explained in the months to come."

Octavia took a sip of the warm water poured for her. As soon as the first drop of water hit her tongue, she felt how dry her mouth was and her head begun pounding form the dehydration. She began taking large gulps, a little bit of water escaping the cup and dribbling down her chin, dripping on her lap. Alistair turned a laugh into a cough to hide his amusement. When her cup ran empty, Alistair was quick to refill the cup and hand it back to her. She took it with the grateful smile as her face burnt red and went to pinch her earrings before remembering she had lost them on the road to Ostagar.

"Take some time, eat this food. When you're ready, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king. He requested your presence."

Duncan took that chance to excuse himself from her tent, leaving Alistair alone with Octavia again. She finally began to eat. She let out a moan as soon as the meat touched her lips. She smiled brightly and swayed in place.

"Mmm, Calian still remembers how I like my game." She took another bit, the tension in her shoulders slowly abated.

Alistair watched her eat her food with a surprising amount of delight. "So, um, the king seems to know you pretty well."


Alistair helped Octavia find her armor and weapon, along with her family sword Duncan instructed her to carry with her. Alistair guided her to the west of the ruins, where the meeting was being held.

"I guess you should get the meeting soon. The king might get upset, start crying. You'll feel bad and… it won't be pretty." Alistair had a toothy grin on his face as he watched Octavia walk up the stairs. She turned around and flashed him a smile before continuing to make her way to the others. Alistair bounced away with a triumph smile.

Alistair found his way towards a thrown together table, clearly something the men mad that day from resources around, with men sitting on a logs like benches. He plopped down on the ground next to a tall, clean shaven man in warden armor. The man held a pint up as a silent offer, but Alistair waved him off.

"I'll raise three coppers."

"He's betting coppers now? Bet real money of get out the game. The kid can take his place."

Alistair held up his hand as if to surrender. "Oh-ho no! You guys cleaned me out last time, I'm terrible!"

A clean-shaven man let out a loud belly laugh. "Exactly! Bets large but never wins! Exactly what I'm looking for!"

A man at the end of the table took a long sip of his pint and slammed the cup back down on the table. "Won't need the money if the battle goes bad."

The laughter and chatter at the table silenced almost immediately, a few coughs and sniffs from the men. Alistair stared at his hands twitting his thumb. No one making eye contact before a man beside slap the back of the other at the end of the table. "You know what you need? Some motivation. I hear there are some women in Denerim that can give you some special motivation."

Howling laughter escaped the mouth of all the men, several banging on the table from laughing too hard. Alistair watched as the passed alcohol bottles around the table and made targeted jokes, occasionally joining in the fun.

"All right, all right. Deal me in." Several men cheered and raised their mugs.

They dealt the cards, and one man slapped his back. Losing money and drunkenly singing sea shanties with these men certainly had its upsides.

Before long, Duncan was breaking up their small party and sent the man to sober up for battle with a sly grin that escaped no one.

Duncan motioned Alistair to stand before him with the woman with him and explained the king's orders to him.

"What? I won't be in the battle?" Alistair's voice rose as his eyebrows knitted together.

"This was the king's personal request Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge." Duncan spoke slowly, irritation peeking through in his tone.

"So, he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there hold the torch. Just in case, right?"

Octavia reached out to gently touch his arm, turning him to look at her. "I'm a hindrance in the battlefield, and I can't be left to my own protection. I believe this is Cailan's way of-"

"I get. I get it." Alistair sighed. "Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."

"I think I'd like to see that." She allowed herself to giggle.

Alistair gave a triumphant, toothy grin. "For you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress."

Duncan groaned. Dealing with Cailan and Loghain and trying focus his protégé makes for a long day. "Alistair will know what to look for. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title." A thinly veiled reprimand.

"Duncan," Alistair stopped Duncan from leaving, "may the Maker watch over you."

Duncan reached out to take Alistair's hand in his, squeezing his hand in his a little tighter than usual. "May the maker watch over us all."

Duncan walked towards the battlefield, not looking back to see Alistair watching him with glassy eyes. Octavia gripped his shoulder and smiled brightly, her war hound nosing his ankle.