A/N:

Thank you for the hearts everyone! Trust me, even a comment that's only hearts feeds my creativity. Enjoy the chapter!

;

The soldiers of Vigil's Keep flitted about within the keep's walls, racing to complete last-minute fortifications. The two wardens remaining in the keep were Kristoff and Swift, whom Solona left as provisional warden support. The first few darkspawn had already hit the keep's walls, though everyone was hyper-aware that they were only build-up to the main assault. Attuned to the heavy atmosphere, grey clouds had rolled in, showering Vigil's Keep in a rain that grew heavier by the minute.

Carver tied his sword belt to his waist as he briskly walked towards the inner bailey. Kristoff and Swift opened the main doors for him to pass, then slipped out themselves. The doors would be barricaded in the event the darkspawn invaded as far as the inner bailey, and the keep's soldiers couldn't hold their ground anymore.

For now, Nathaniel coordinated half of his soldiers to the outer ramparts, and the other half to the inner ramparts. Both walls connected to the main building, so that the soldiers stationed there could retreat before ground forces could reach and overwhelm them. Nathaniel would lead a unit to meet the ground forces. The unit could also use the walls to retreat if there were soldiers on the ramparts to allow them in. Everyone else who couldn't fight was sequestered in the highest floors of the main building.

Nathaniel snatched Carver past the main doors. "You should lead the squad in the inner bailey."

"You're an arl," Carver refused. "Your protection is my priority."

Nathaniel's lips twisted but said nothing as the two of them approached the edge of the main building's front stairs. Two squads stood at attention below them.

Carver rested his sword sheathed at his side and straightened, raising his voice. "Soldiers of Vigil's Keep! I understand you might know of me. Some of your brothers fought alongside me against the archdemon in Ostagar – and again in Denerim! I am Ser Carver of Maric's Shield, and I am here to help you royally defeat the darkspawn!"

The crowd of armour below shifted with sudden energy that Carver couldn't read past the blinding sheet of rain. Beside him, he could feel Nathaniel briefly turn.

Carver narrowed his focus to the task ahead. "Arl Nathaniel and I saw to the blight's defeat in Denerim. Trust in our strategy!"

Carver turned to Nathaniel, who cleared his throat. "For Vigil's Keep! To your battle stations!"

The squads split away for their positions in the inner and outer baileys. Nathaniel followed Carver for the latter.

"Carver?" Nathaniel repeated. "The Carver?"

Furrowed brows answered him. "What do you mean?"

"It's a common name," Nathaniel defended, hurrying to match Carver's pace. "The songs are Ferelden, but bardic in structure. If not Orlesian, then at least – inspired. Fereldens like to pretend otherwise, but Orlesian commoners who settled here during the Rebellion have assimilated. Our present culture has Orlesian influence."

Carver shot him a look. "You've met Leliana."

Nathaniel was still talking. "Everyone is addressed by their surname outside of Ferelden, so of course Carver is a filler name for the common man or woman. 'Anyone can be a hero,' and all that. Even if there's a Ser Carver in Maric's Shield, it doesn't make them the subject of the songs – except I've met you." Nathaniel halted. "Leliana?"

Carver stopped and turned.

"Sister Leliana was a bard?" Nathaniel spluttered and kept walking. "The Maker has a sense of humour."

Carver followed him. Nathaniel only made sense, really; Carver was originally named after Ser Maurevar Carver, the Kirkwall Templar. The general public likely believed "Carver" to be a surname, like "Smith."

"Contact!" the ramparts cried out.

The outer portcullis shattered under the weight of an ogre. The inner portcullis immediately dropped closed behind Nathaniel and Carver as darkspawn rushed into the keep.

Summer Sword unsheathed in a flash. "Kristoff! Swift!"

The two wardens pincered the darkspawn from either side of the outer portcullis, blades swinging. Nathaniel and Carver lured the ogre away while their squad attacked the darkspawn pouring in. With pinpoint accuracy on the ogre's tendons and a smite to deliver spirit damage, Nathaniel and Carver felled the ogre in front of the inner portcullis, blocking the darkspawn from attempting the same strategy.

One sweep of the grounds confirmed that the darkspawn's assault was faltering. The rain had muddied the earth, slowing the darkspawn's approach to the keep's walls until they were basically sitting ducks. The keep's archers had wiped out most of the invading force before the portcullis had been breached.

A cry suddenly resounded from the inner bailey. "Darkspawn from underground!"

Nathaniel flinched in its direction. "Maker's breath," he whispered in horror.

Carver decidedly grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the wall's passage leading to the main building. Without dwarven explosives to clear up the keep's lower foundations, and without dwarven master stonemasons to enable the ancient dwarven seals down there, it was fractionally possible for darkspawn to dig their way to the surface. When Carver had hinted to Nathaniel about the possibility earlier, they had both agreed that Vigil's Keep couldn't afford to plan around the unlikelihood given their limited resources.

Now, the arl's face was pale under his leather helmet. "Delilah is in her room with the nursemaids. They have no weapons between them!"

Carver yelled over his shoulder. "Swift, you're alpha now!"

"Understood!" the warden returned, and barked orders for the outer bailey's squad.

Carver and Nathaniel raced into the keep where the inner bailey's squad had already run in and engaged with the invading darkspawn. Nathaniel deftly cleared out the main hall with a rain of arrows, not one blink at the effort. Carver exasperatedly cut down a darkspawn's arrow before it could hit the arl. Were all archers bloody gifted, or was Carver just unskilled?

Faint female screams echoed down the keep.

"Delilah!" Nathaniel called out, searching.

With Carver's curt instruction, they cleared the keep's rooms together. When they ran out of darkspawn to kill, they circled the floors, then sprinted up the keep's many stairs. A glance out the keep's windows confirmed that only stragglers remained; Vigil's Keep had survived the assault. Carver hoped for similar success with Solona and the Wardens. Amaranthine's forested land, cliff-riddled north, and history with animals evidently bred fine archers out of its citizens.

Nathaniel broke into his sister's room. "Delilah––!"

Carver rushed in, then just as quickly backed out and turned around. He heard Nathaniel's shocked approach to Delilah's bloody bed as the nursemaids parted.

"Nate," Delilah exhaled sweetly. "Isn't he beautiful?"

Alfred spoke. "Why don't you hold him?"

Nathaniel's half-cloak fluttered. His voice left him roughly, carrying only syllables.

Carver softly closed the door behind him.

Delilah's voice drifted from the crack as it closed. "We want to name him Eirian, after Mummy."

"That wasn't so bad," Sigrun remarked. "I thought a darkspawn assault would be like in the Deep Roads, where they don't stop coming until you blow everything up."

The warden's party was reunited in the main hall of Vigil's Keep, with the exception of Nathaniel.

Solona crossed her arms where she sat. "The darkspawn who attacked Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine City were part of a faction under 'the Mother.' After our work in Knotwood Hills, they apparently came at us with what darkspawn they had left."

"If the Messenger is to be trusted," Velanna scoffed. "I still don't see why you let it go."

"It gave us information about the other faction," Leliana pointed out. "It even fought alongside us against the Mother's army. The Messenger isn't like other darkspawn."

Solona sighed. "Your forgiveness knows no bounds, Leli."

The redhead leaned into her. "That's what you like about me."

Solona huffed but tellingly tolerated Leliana's weight.

Velanna rose a brow. "That's it, then. You'll let any darkspawn live if you can craft an excuse for it."

Solona's steel blue eyes flashed warningly, startling even Sigrun peacefully sitting next to her. "Never accuse me of that again."

Velanna lifted her chin. "Very well. You obviously approach darkspawn problems without bias."

"Do you have an issue with me?" Solona curtly asked. "With humans?"

Velanna blinked. "I don't see how that's relevant here."

"You've been short since we've met," Solona stated. "You swear yourself to my purpose, but you question me at every step. Are you sure you want to join the Wardens?"

"Solona," Carver intervened.

"No," Solona rejected. "I want to hear her response."

Velanna clicked her tongue. "I hate humans in general. As for my questions, it's to inform me on your leadership, seeing as you're the only real warden these lands have right now."

Solona flatly echoed, "My leadership."

Velanna nodded. "The darkspawn stage murders, plan ambushes, and attack cities, and you don't think despite their internal conflict that they won't lie to you? How are you sure that the darkspawn who attacked Vigil's Keep the first time were also under this Mother?"

"The Messenger said its master, the Architect, wishes no quarrel with wardens," Solona replied. "The Architect has to know that attacking human cities is the same as picking a fight with us."

"So the Messenger claims," Velanna allowed, "but its master might be withholding information from it. Unless the Messenger is one of the Architect's limbs, it can't truly know its master's thoughts."

"The Messenger's words are worth verifying," Solona defended.

"You'll risk your life doing so?" Velanna pressed.

Solona frowned, losing her patience. "All these questions just to inform you on my leadership? Just say you doubt me."

"I don't doubt your intentions," Velanna stated. "As a former Keeper in training, I advise you to heed history. After all, humanity's internal conflict didn't stop them from wiping the elves out of the Dales."

Silence fell over their table.

Leliana's eyes flitted to Carver, who only placed a hand over his face. He had tried to intervene and warn them – both Solona and Velanna. One side didn't think about the other's long history, while the other was ignorant of the other's recent history. Carver had to give Velanna credit, though. The woman had overcome the intellectual hurdle the fastest of the party, fully believing that the talking darkspawn were as sentient as the rest of Thedas's races. Seranni's situation was all the evidence Velanna needed.

The warden's party didn't know that the Architect was the spindly darkspawn they had encountered earlier, but they still unknowingly faced a grave issue. The talking darkspawn were essentially a "new" sentient race still in its infancy. Could the wardens collectively condemn them because the darkspawn only knew violence?

Nathaniel walked in, thankfully providing a distraction. "Despite all the stress, the local Sister says that Delilah is well on her way to recovery from the nonnatus procedure."

The term derived from Tevene, meaning "not born," as it referred to a Caesarean section.

The arl sat down at the table with a relieved sigh. "Delilah is on a strict, highly nutritional diet in the meantime. The sooner we can rid Amaranthine of this darkspawn problem, the sooner goods can flow in as usual. Warden Solona, are you able to sense where the rest of the talking darkspawn might be hiding?"

Solona cleared her throat, spreading out a map of Amaranthine. "Usually, the taint is an ambient presence in the back of my head. However, when I cleared out smuggler tunnels in Amaranthine City, I felt a draw to the west. Be they the Mother's, the Architect's, or talking at all, there's a dense presence of darkspawn out there."

Nathaniel frowned, tracing the land west of Amaranthine City. Beyond the immediate suburbs around Amaranthine City, the Feravel Plains stretched west all the way to Tarcaisne Ridge, where the arling ended in the mountainous region and Soldier's Peak began. The lords in the suburbs answered to Bann Esmerelle, while Lord Eddelbrek answered directly to Arl Nathaniel. While unconventional, the hierarchy was generally accepted given the differing needs and sizes between the City of Amaranthine and the Feravel Plains.

"If the Mother's army came south along the Pilgrim's Path," Nathaniel contemplated, "they must have been utilising Deep Roads connected to the mines in Wending Wood and, to an extent, Knotwood Hills. You might have sensed the Architect's darkspawn."

"The Deep Roads stretch everywhere," Sigrun reminded. "The darkspawn may have found a route connecting those places to the Feravel Plains as well. The Mother could be using the plains as a secret base to only access via underground."

Nathaniel sighed. "Either way, Lord Eddelbrek hasn't reported any darkspawn in his lands, to which I thank the Maker. Amaranthine can ill afford our only farmlands being poisoned by the taint. If it's the Architect's faction hiding in the plains, then I'm inclined to believe that the Messenger spoke true of his master, and that the Architect's faction doesn't desire conflict with humans."

"Only one way to find out," Carver summarised. "There are ancient Tevinter ruins here, in the north-west region of the Feravel Plains."

Eyes followed Carver's finger on the map. "The Dragonbone Wastes?"

"Where dragons go to die," Leliana quoted a tale.

Carver nodded. "Dragons used to burrow deep into the earth there where they would lay for eternal rest. The ancient Imperium thus built a city upon it called Drake's Fall to use dragon bones for crafting, before the Imperium was pushed out. If darkspawn are hiding somewhere with access to the surface, it's here."

Nathaniel straightened. "Then we move for Drake's Fall at once."

When everyone rose to gear up and depart, Carver discreetly pulled Solona aside.

"If the Mother is there," Carver murmured, "we can expect resistance. May I suggest you and a few others take the party's rear? Protect our backs?"

Solona frowned. "And leave the rest of you to descend underground alone?"

Carver hesitated. "You know what 'the Mother' means."

Solona clenched her jaw, eyes darting aside. "A talking broodmother." She whipped her gaze to Carver with a heated whisper. "But she's evil! The Mother betrayed her emissary in the Blackmarsh, and set up a production of broodmothers in Knotwood Hills. Had she any humanity, she wouldn't have done those things."

"She's not your responsibility to stop," Carver struck deeply.

Solona stilled.

Carver sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't want to be someone who makes you cry every time we talk."

"No," Solona sharply gasped, "no, Leliana has been saying much of the same. You both care about me. Besides, I have no more tears to shed."

"Then…."

"I'm finishing this," Solona decided, gesturing to the overall conflict. "The Maker himself can't stop me."

Carver followed his cousin as she pivoted off for the stables. "Then I will stand by you through the end."

The warden's party arrived at Drake's Fall at night, when the full moon blanketed the wasteland in a colourless scale of grey where the ruins rose, white where dragon bones pierced shadows, and black where blood spilled.

The Architect's hurlocks were indeed engaged with Childer hatchlings and adults, fighting to penetrate the Mother's lair that hid underground.

The high dragon, however, was just the cherry on top.

Velanna furiously bloomed thorny vegetation around darkspawn while Solona threw fireballs and Sigrun tossed grenades. Nathaniel and Leliana fired long-range support, but Carver had the pleasure of distracting and fighting off the dragon all on his own. Apparently, helping to kill three dragons or so meant he could handle one.

"Stop smiting!" Velanna complained.

Carver rolled aside dragon breath. "Just stay behind me!"

Solona summoned a firestorm, which dissipated in a perfect cone from Carver to around the dragon. A vacuum of hot, dry air immediately sucked in, startling everyone's loose clothes up in a brief, sudden wind.

Solona pointed. "That's his smite range, Velanna! Avoid it!"

Carver lit up Summer Sword in another smite and swung, grumbling. At least some of her fire had baked the dragon, though that seemed to just infuriate the overgrown lizard.

Summer Sword lodged itself into the dragon's neck, and Carver swung himself up over the beast, jerking his blade out in one motion. Dragon blood splashed against the ground in a sharp arc. The dragon's screech rattled Carver's skull as he raced up the neck with criss-crossing slashes before shoving his sword down the dragon's snout. Carver wound up another visualisation of world order before bursting the dragon's head open with an unconcentrated smite. Compared to the cone, this one exploded in a rush of white fire like in Redcliffe Castle.

The dragon collapsed like a brick building.

Carver wrenched his sword free and slid down to rejoin the party, which had cleared out darkspawn from the surface. While he had been occupied, Sigrun had managed to find a sturdy entrance into the ruins.

The legionnaire leaned away from Carver as he drew close to stealth with her. "You're sweaty."

Carver wiped grime and hair back away from his face. "I miss my armour."

"Then none of us would be able to sneak in like this," Solona pointed out.

The party navigated down spiralling staircases without bannisters and sometimes part of a step. When they jumped across stairs or down to a floor, bulbous flesh popped under their feet, leaking black blood between stone tiles. A familiar fleshy texture ran everywhere in the ruins, growing thicker the farther down they descended. Carver shuddered and frequently glanced at Solona, who was breathing heavily even as the rush of battle passed.

Whenever the party crossed paths with the Architect's and Mother's forces fighting each other, Solona was the first to mercilessly demolish them. Sometimes she would even shapeshift into a spider or bear and tear their enemies apart with her teeth.

Leliana spoke from behind Solona. "Reserve your mana for bigger fights."

Solona's voice carried a tremor. "Right."

Nathaniel held a hand over his nose as a green mist became discernible to the naked eye. The arl toed scattered crystals with runes on them, shifting the yellow minerals around. It seemed the mist arose not from neglected magic, but from some manner of waste running deep underground. Like the decay of dragon corpses.

And the limbs of a broodmother so massive, her most distant appendages simply rotted with disuse.

Carver fixed the crystals to the ground where hexagonal cavities matched their shapes. When Nathaniel raised a brow, Carver shook his head. "Might stabilise the ruins. We'll never know when we'll need to beat an explosion out of here."

It was a fake excuse, but a believable one all the same.

That was when the Architect stepped into sight from a floor above, followed by Utha. The ghoul drew her blade, but the Architect held a hand out.

"No, Utha, this is not how we must begin." The spindly darkspawn floated down with precise magic and landed in front of the party. "I regret our first meeting, warden. I had restrained you and your company in the mines with hopes to avoid the misunderstanding that arose in Vigil's Keep. I should have known that the people there would have interpreted my scouts as an invading party."

Solona shoved her staff in front of her warningly. "Architect. So those were your darkspawn. You're no better than the Mother."

The Architect didn't flinch at the animosity. "My people are still learning how to communicate. When I break them free of the Call, they are at first flustered, and still learning. Peace, I pray you, warden."

Leliana narrowed her eyes behind her drawn bow. "The Call?"

"Darkspawn want for nothing," the Architect pointed out. "We do not hunger or strive for power; when a blight begins, it is because the Old Gods demand it, and we have no choice to follow. We must attack your lands, and ultimately perish. Utha was the first warden to understand, and offered up her own blood so that I might fashion a Joining for my brethren."

Solona sharply peered up at the ghoul, then back at the Architect. "You use warden blood for Joinings? Then the other wardens who hadn't become broodmothers…."

"They died by the time they reached me," the Architect regretted. "Still, their blood saved many. Where you wardens acquire the taint from darkspawn blood, we acquire your resistance against the Call from yours."

Sigrun gripped her shortswords tightly. "I don't see why we're wasting our time with this darkspawn."

Velanna threw a hand out. "No, this is what Seranni saw – an ally amongst the darkspawn! We cannot pass this up."

Nathaniel exhaled behind his own drawn bow. "Darkspawn or no, he has a good point. Do we really want to keep killing each other forever?"

Solona's voice flattened. "That's what you want? No more blights?"

The Architect confirmed, "We only desire to live alone and in peace."

Solona turned to Carver. Everyone looked at him, puzzled.

Carver's lips thinned with Summer Sword unsheathed but lowered in his hands. Solona was leaving the decision to him. "Where are you from, Architect?"

The spindly darkspawn frowned in confusion. "I was born as I am, an outsider amongst my kind. Why, I do not know. Why do some of your kind possess magic? I have no answers. I only know that the Mother wishes to stop me from freeing darkspawn, and that you seek her demise. Our interests align."

Carver hesitated at the darkspawn's confession to amnesia. For once, he didn't have an answer to their problem.

No, there was no question about it. Face the Mother with the Architect's help, or let Solona face the brunt of the broodmother's might.

Carver met Solona's gaze and nodded.

She lowered her staff, everyone uncertainly following suit. "If this can help end the blights forever, then I can't reject it. Against the Mother, you have an ally."

The Architect nodded. "The Mother controls darkspawn yet turned, and through them blocks my presence. However, if you clear enough away, I can directly assist you with my magic."

The spindly darkspawn glanced at the crystal array on the ground, but didn't show any signs of recognising their purpose. Regardless, Carver needed the Architect's magic attuned to the ruins to strengthen his support.

Solona's lips thinned, then pivoted off.

The white-haired warden determinedly led the party onwards for the deepest level of the ruins, where they encountered younger and younger Children until only grubs accosted them. Flesh began to replace stone. Green mist fogged up their sight, turning scattered darkspawn torches into floating orbs of faint light. Everyone except Solona coughed, wincing with every breath at the stench. Yet, the warden's heavy breaths echoed clearly.

A large, heavy shadow slithered ahead of them, softly splashing out of sight.

Solona stuttered to a halt. Carver swiftly tossed out an oil bottle he usually reserved for lighting torches, then grabbed a mounted torch and threw it down in front of them. The sudden fire flared through the mist and darkness, revealing that the ruins' stone carcass ended in a cavern filled with green and black sludge — and there, at the end of their path, was a towering stack of bellies, breasts, and arachnid limbs. A mass of tentacles stretched out like hair, vanishing into the sewage and hugging the slanted stone path with excited twitches. One gigantic tentacle lazily slid over the path to give a clear view of lidless eyes at the top of the flesh pile.

Solona fell to the ground, hyperventilating.

A mouth split open beneath the eyes, and the Mother cackled. "A Grey Warden! Just what I need to kill — along with the rest of your kind! Then maybe the Song will return and I can be free of this silence!"

Leliana dropped to tightly cradle Solona and whisper to her.

Carver stepped between Solona and the Mother, sword drawn. "Architect, now would be nice!"

An apparition of the Architect materialised, stretching both hands out. "I should have never awakened you, Mother, and for that I take responsibility."

A fireball to end all fireballs instantly combusted, roaring to life in the cavern and throwing everyone's figures into sharp relief. A horrific wail pierced the air. Carver turned away with a wince at the blinding light, feeling the pained cry from the soles of his feet to the roots of his hair. The green mist rolled back in with just as much force, rushing to replace the lost moisture.

Carver shook his head and charged forward, lighting up his sword with a smite.

Trailing embers caught on the Mother's charred, bloated figure, still wriggling with agony — and now, rage. Spittle and blood flew as she bellowed at him. Chunks of burned tentacles scattered the cavern, but more than half were still whole.

A hail of arrows struck a swinging tentacle and knocked it aside.

"Invaders!" the Mother cried out. "All shall die! Fall with your false ally!"

Another burst of blinding light, this time with spiritual damage that stunned the Mother into a splitting migraine.

Carver severed a tentacle that fell over him at the loss of focus.

Sigrun threw a grenade. "What does she mean, 'false ally?'"

The Mother bodily shook herself back into focus, raging. "You side with the one who started the last blight! Ha! Foolish wardens!"

Solona's voice cut through the air. "Architect."

The apparition calmly defended himself. "I thought to awaken Urthemiel and end all blights in this manner. Unfortunately, I failed."

"You—!"

An explosion went off behind Carver, but he couldn't turn around. When the Mother determinedly attacked Carver and wasn't hindered by impressive displays of magic, Carver knew Solona had driven the Architect's apparition away.

A weave of thick plants from Velanna raced in front of Carver and netted the Mother's tentacles. A splash of venom hissed against them, but it was too late.

Carver leapt up with a yell and cut straight down the broodmother.

Blood and guts burst forth, caking everyone and everything in a layer of grime while the sea of writhing tentacles abruptly stilled and lifelessly sank. Carver unwound an intestine around his neck and threw it aside. At least he had immediately shut his mouth from accidentally ingesting blood. When he turned around, Solona was wrapped around Leliana, shaking like a leaf. Leliana picked her girlfriend up and met gazes with Carver. The rest of the party looked ready to keel over, if not for the fact they would probably end up fainting in the filthiest ruin of all history.

Nathaniel shook blood and slime off of himself and peered at Carver with fearful eyes. "How are you not…?"

Visibly affected?

The story didn't merit breath.

"It's over," Carver didn't explain, gently patting him on the shoulder. "Let's go."

Carver led the party out of the ruins and into a moonlit wasteland. The dry air smacked against their skin.

Sigrun breathed it in. "The surface smells good."

Yeah, it really did.