Kya hated this part. She'd never admit it to anyone, but watching the Joining made her sick to her stomach. As if her own hadn't been horrifying enough – Daveth and Jory dead and the archdemon screaming in her head like she thought it would explode. But the day she watched her childhood hero drink poison, no matter how angry she'd been at the time, was like an unending bad dream.

She somehow expected this would be easier. It wasn't.

She'd made it through Oghren and Anders joining with little hysteria. Even when Mhairi fell, she kept her composure, better than she had expected. But she couldn't help but realize how sodding young Nathaniel Howe was. He was probably older than Kya, but she'd forgotten what it meant to be young. And frankly, Loghain had become in her mind what a man was, and . . . he wasn't young. Not for a long time.

But Nathaniel was. He moved with a weird, easy grace than reminded her of Zevran and she had no idea what to make of him. He was angry and sullen; yet resigned and complacent as Varel spoke the words.

"Join us brother. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant," Varel's deep voice echoed off the stone walls, reverberating in Kya's head. Every time she heard those words it sent a chill through her. And what was worse, no matter who said them, it was always Alistair's voice she heard; Alistair's voice sad and pensive, and positively eerie.

Nathaniel pressed the goblet to his lips, his brow furrowed but seemingly intent upon not cringing at the foul taste. It was a flavor Kya knew she'd never forget. Gingerly, he handed the cup back to Varel, his skin paling. Instead of the coughing and choking as Kya feared, his eyes rolled back into his head and he tumbled to the floor in a heap. Varel followed quickly after, down on to his knee.

"The Howe is strong," he said quietly. "You chose well; he will live. Maker help us all."

"Thank you Varel," Kya said as the man rose to his feet, leaving Nathaniel lying cold and unresponsive on the floor. "I can . . . take it from here. Someone should be here when he wakes."

Varel didn't look pleased as the idea of leaving her alone with him, but Varel was a soldier and Kya his commander. He knew his duty. Nodding sharply, he strode out of the room purposefully, with just one last glance over his shoulder at Kya before he closed the door behind him.

A part of her wanted to kneel down beside Nathaniel, wait for his eyes to open as Alistair and Duncan had done for her. But she suspected he might need a bit more time to adjust to her presence. Instead, she sat back on the steps a few paces away and watched. She might have a long time to wait, so she leaned back on the heels of her hands, letting her eyes wander.

The main hall at the Vigil seemed an odd place for something as intimate as the Joining. But it was one of the few places that were seemingly untouched by the darkspawn incursion. Bookcases lined the walls, a few statues littered among the books. And there were so many paintings, beautiful and detailed, hanging at regular intervals between the cases. Dragons. Battles. One that she swore was Loghain, with his back to her in that silver Chevalier armor he wore, his sword raised to the sky. She was surprised she hadn't noticed it before.

At the far end of the hall, there was a portrait of a stern but lovely woman with pale grey eyes. Nathaniel's eyes, Kya realized. She glanced back at him, tearing her eyes away from the painting. He groaned a little, shook his head and his eyes flickered. But he didn't wake, not yet. He was trapped in that first darkspawn nightmare; the same nightmare that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Kya turned her eyes to the portrait again and then back to Nathaniel. His mother, likely.

He groaned again and shuddered. Kya fought the urge to shiver; she remembered what he was seeing behind his closed eyes better than she would have liked. Slowly, his hand moved, coming up to cradle his face. He half turned on to his side and turned his head, rubbing his eyes and blinking.

Kya stood and walked over to him, warily watching as he tried to focus his eyes. She held her hand out to him.

"Welcome brother," she said. He stared at her hand for a moment, as if it was some poisonous thing, but reluctantly, he took it and let her drag him to his feet. He wobbled a little and Kya steadied him with her hand on his arm. He was gripping her hand like a vice, the little bones in her wrist grinding against each other.

"What in the name of the sodding Maker was that?" he asked. His eyes were drilling into her relentlessly.

"That," she explained, "was just the beginning. Just wait, it gets worse."

"Wonderful, now let go of me," he said, shrugging off her hand on his arm and letting go of the other. He took a step back and stumbled, just barely keeping his feet.

"Yes, well," Kya said, stepping forward again and taking his elbow. "You can be all indignant and stubborn later. Now, we need to get you to bed before you fall and split your head open."

"That would be a terrible tragedy," he snorted. "I'm sure." But he didn't fight her as she started to lead him out of the hall towards the barracks they'd set up nearby. The upper floors were a wreck, so they were all sleeping in various rooms, certainly not intended for that purpose.

There were rows of beds, although few were occupied at this time of day. Somehow the relatively few bunks made Kya's heart sink. This was all the soldiers they had left? Maker's breath, they were in some serious trouble.

Trying to ignore that and focus on the task at hand, she looked around and realized this was no place for a newly joined warden. Anders and Oghren had small rooms near her own, but there weren't any others prepared. She hadn't expected to find another Warden so soon. Abandoning the idea of leaving him in the main room, she led him to her own room that adjoined her office and planted him on the bed. He moved like a wooden toy soldier, but was surprisingly quiet.

"Boots," she said to him. Nathaniel looked up at her incredulously. Kya sighed. "Boots. Off."

"Sod off," he managed.

"Yes, yes. You're very scary," she sighed again, kneeling down on the floor and unlacing his boots for him. "But you aren't going to get mud on my linens."

With no help from Nathaniel, she maneuvered his boots off, tossing them into the corner. Once they were off, he still just sat stoically, staring at his hands laying limp in his lap. His breathing was slow and shallow and Kya wasn't entirely sure he hadn't fallen asleep sitting up. She reached up and put her hand on his shoulder and he jerked to attention, throwing her hand off.

"Fine," she said. "Go to sleep. You can hate me when you wake up."

Surprising her again, he laid down obediently, curling his legs up to his chest. He looked like a child like that, and she supposed that in a way, he was. A child of this monstrosity of a keep, a child of Rendon Howe and a child that had just lost his father. Kya hadn't known her own parents, but she imagined that was a deep pain indeed. Quietly, she pulled the blanket up over him and he burrowed his head down into the pillow. She wondered if he'd even been fully aware since he'd come to, bleary and confused. Shaking her head yet again, she turned away from him and closed the door between the bedroom and the office. She sat down hard in her chair and leaned forward, hiding her face in the palms of her hands.

This was an emotion she often kept in short supply, but here it was anyway. Of all the things she expected to feel today, and to feel for a child of that son of a bitch Rendon Howe, was this.

Compassion.

Hours passed and by Andraste, Kya needed to sleep. But she knew how she'd felt that first day of her joining. Although she was apparently an anomaly, and had kept herself together, she remembered vividly how hard she was shaken. And shaken badly. If it hadn't been for Alistair's steady presence, she was convinced that she would have fallen apart. She was also fairly certain that the battle at Ostagar was a big part of the reason she fell in love with him.

And she did; love him, that was, which was odd in itself, considering everything that had happened. She didn't want him, not anymore. But she sincerely wanted him to be happy, in a convoluted sort of way. It was somewhat comforting to know that she had the capability of feeling that way.

She only hoped someday, that she could feel that way about Loghain too. Instead of this hideous burning behind her ribs that felt like she couldn't get enough air when she thought about him

Kya wondered what would happen when he showed up to say his final goodbyes. She knew he would; he'd promised after all. And despite all the things that Loghain was, she knew he wasn't one to make promises he didn't intend to keep. Well, except that one, about looking after Cailan. But Maker knows he tried.

She looked down at the manifest Varel had left for her to review. The letters and numbers were all running together. She rubbed her temples and rested her elbow on the desk again. She really, really wanted to sleep. But she'd made a promise to herself.

She'd forced another man into becoming a Grey Warden against his will. She wasn't about to wander off to sleep and leave him alone. She knew eventually the nightmares would wake him. And this time, he'd be coherent enough to have questions. Lots of questions, she expected. She herself had learned what it meant to be a Grey Warden so slowly, it had drawn out the pain almost unbearably. She was going to make sodding sure that Nathaniel didn't have to face that. Best she just tell him everything. At least everything she knew, which wasn't nearly as much as she would have liked. But it would have to do.

Despite her best intentions, her eyes slid closed and she dozed a little. The little fire crackling in the hearth was soothing and it was more than her overworked mind could handle. Unnoticed, the candle on the corner on the desk sputtered and burned out, plunging the little improvised office into a weird orange red glow, lit only by the embers of the fire.

That was when the door between the office and the bedroom swung open with a slow creak. It startled Kya awake, her arms flailing out, knocking a stack of parchment to the floor. She looked up to see Nathaniel's silhouette as he took a few steps into the room. His bare feet slapped against the stones.

"Are you going to answer my questions now?" he asked quietly.

"Which ones?" Kya asked, stretching her neck and leaning back in her chair.

"All of them," he said with sharp finality.

Kya dredged up a half smile. "I'll do my best."