A/N: Still on the trail of Nathaniel's story arc; as one scene ends, another one springs from it. This amuses me, so riding that pony for as long as it's inclined to trot. Side-helping of Anders thrown in for good measure. Still grappling with getting both his voice and personality right; should any generous souls feel inclined to slip some input on it, much obliged.

XXX

The Road Home

Anders is prodding, Oghren is biting, Nathaniel is pensive and the Warden-Commander cranky. In other words: it's Tuesday.

XXX

They left Justice behind. No one honestly knew what else to do. "I dunno… Partol the roads or something?" the elf had said. Luckily, the spirit agreed. They couldn't have brought him back to the Keep anyway; as Anders had pointed out, he was kinda… decomposing. "People tend to have views about that, you know. And explaining that you are really a spirit, even a good spirit and not, say, a demon… Oh, that would go down just splendidly." And it would have probably brought the Templars down upon them quicker than you could say "blood mage!" Anders had added privately.

Howe had agreed. Oghren did not have much to say on the matter, still busy shaking off the improptu visit to the last place he had imagined any dwarf would ever find himself in and the Commander was still having fits about having to go through the Fade a second time. She did seem to have enjoyed killing the Baroness very, very much though. Oghren had known it would come to that even while Anders had still been arguing for siding with her in order to escape. Turned out, that line about owning the people was a really, really wrong thing to say within the Commander's earshot. Nobility does make one have a way with words, doesn't it?

Or not, Anders amended, glancing at the silent man who took up the rear as they started trudging back to the Keep. What a merry band they were, eh? The only one looking truly happy right now was the mabari, running up in front of the group then bouncing back with a "Woof!" as if to say "What's taking you so long?" Of course, he did not get pulled into the Fade so Anders supposed he had every reason in the world to be happy. Good thing that he didn't, too - Only the mind passed into the Fade, not the body. Had the dog not been around to guard their physical forms while they were out frolicking through the haunted nightmare's nightmare… Well, let's just say they could have all ended up patroling the roads with Justice right now. If they were lucky, that is.

"So, commander," he finally grew tired of silence. "The Darkspawn - They're not usually that chatty, are they?"

"Nope."

"Hm. So, you don't supose we could organize a debate club, huh? Nice little sit-around, blighted marshmellows, cheer and goodwill all around?"

Oghren looked at him as if he had sprouted another head. The elf snorted. "Sure, why not? We could trade tips on Fade vacations."

"Ah. …Right. They… don't usually send people to the Fade either, yes?"

This time, Oghren really gave him a look. Somewhere between terrifying and terrified. It cheered Anders up.

The elf shrugged. "Dunno. Never done it to me before. My last trip was by a sloth demon."

Anders cocked his head. "Not Uldred then?"

"Uh-uh. We were headed to get him; sloth just got in the way."

And now both were dead. Well… It wasn't that he was trilled about this whole Grey Warden business - too much mud, blood and Darkspawn and too few taverns and good night sleep for his tastes. Plus the whole Taint thing, though what the Commander had told him when he woke up after his Joining - and they remained talking throughout the night - did give him some hopes in that regard. Slim, but nonetheless there. He truly didn't trust blood mages and doubtful he'd like to actually meet that Avernus fellow, but still - there was hope.

And in the meantime, if he had to be anywhere, he might as well be with someone who stormed through the Tower and wiped it clean of abominations and saving the remaining mages while the Templars were twiddling their thumbs behind barred doors and waited for the Right of Annulement to arrive. As if they hadn't been waiting for an excuse to do that anyway.

He shook the toughts away, looked around and smiled. He was tired and the stench of the swamp clung to him like a cloak, but he was alive, all limbs attached, proper places and all, and the Chantry had no authority over the Grey Wardens. Alive and free, Anders tought. Having to occasionally wade knee-deep in Darkspawn seemed like a small price to pay for either, let alone both.

He would, however, have to get away to Amaranthine soon. That was where he was originally headed when the Templars caught up with him and afterwards… Well, what between getting conscripted, Joined, dragged out on the road, blasted to the Fade et cetera, he didn't quite have a chance to do it yet. He doubted Namaya was still even there, but he had to check. Being practically free from the Chantry was nice, but he'd prefer it to be actually free if possible, thanks. He'll ask the Commander to give him a leave once they return to the Keep. He knew she'd give it - if he told her he wanted to quit and go, right now, she'd likely even throw him a farewell party - so that shouldn't be a problem. Hopefully the Darkspawn will be equally obliging once he actually hits the road.

But speaking of Darkspawn, there was that one thing that kept pecking at the back of his mind…

"Um... Commander? The Darkspawn don't exactly have, you know, mothers?" The one that sent them to the Fade did swear vengeance on one. And more disturbing than the tought of Darkspawn, ummm... procreating - Anders shuddered - was the tought that this Mother, whatever she (it?) was, had enough power to send them into the Fade, and via proxy at that.

The elf stopped abruptly, her back going stiff. She and Oghren exchanged a troubled look.

"They do." Her voice was quiet, hollow. She begun walking again. "Let's not talk about it."

But the mabari wasn't the only one who could be dogged about things.

"I think we'll have to, Commander. Because that Darkspawn - The First, was it? - did mention her quite a bit as I recall." He still blanched at just finding out that yes, there apperantly was such a thing as Darkspawn procreation.

"Later," she replied, ending the discussion. Anders was still not willing to let it go, but Oghren cut it short:

"Funny story: dwarf attacks mage. Dwarf wins."

"It's not funny."

"Hehe. I was having fun."

Anders sighed dramatically. "Your ideas of fun Oghren are as refined as your taste in clothing."

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"They stink."

"Well, you don't smell like a daisy yourself."

"At least I am aware of the concept of bathing afterwards."

"Huh. I bathe."

"In spirits."

"Says a mage."

"Oh?! A word play? I'm impressed, Oghren. Why, if you keep this up, I'll even start…"

And the bickering continued on.

XXX

And hardly stopped when they broke camp for the night, neitehr Anders nor Oghren willing to let the other one get the last word, the elf occasionally piping in only to spur them on. Even the mabari joined on occasion, although his contributions mostly amounted to "Woof!". The only one who kept his silence was Nathaniel and for once, he did not mind. As long as they all had a go at one another, nobody was bothering him, though Anders did attempt to drag him into it a few times. His lack of response soon made him uninteresting to the mage however, and he was left to his own toughts. Just as well, for he had quite a few to sort through.

The past few days have been… weird, and that was the understatement of the Age. Had someone asked him a week ago what is the least likely company he could imagine himself being in, this would still be not it. Same for the least likely places he tought he'd find himself in. The Fade was just… Well, let's just say he wouldn't want to go through it twice. And then there was the Blackmarsh itself…

He remembered how, as a boy, he had dreamed about going there and setting things right. Foolish little boy dreams… Had he really been a little boy with dreams once? Even he found it hard to believe that nowdays. And yet, the realization dawned on him earlier in the day, he just did, in fact, go to the Blackmarsh and had set things right. He hoped that the little boy from the past was smiling at that, for he was finding it hard to do so.

For he had not went there alone, nor by his own plans. The Blackmarsh has been the haunted forbidden for as long as he had remembered and most everyone ever did about it was to avoid it. Young bucks, noble or commoner, sometimes going close to it on a dare and that was it. Until three complete strangers arrived and decided to charge right in, warnings be damned. True, they had not set out with the specific goal of 'fixing things' in mind, but that did not change the fact that they had acomplished something no one before dared try. A mad dwarf, annoying mage and the elf he had come to Ferelden to kill. The Wardens. Three strangers, and one pariah tagging along behind, feeling more of a stranger in his own home than three of them combined.

It was bizzare. And not just a little annoying. Also, alarming. He never had close encounters with the Darkspawn before - in fact, his whole experience with them had been crammed into these past couple of days. And yet even he could tell there was something strange about these ones, even if he hadn't spent the time listening to the Wardens - Oghren and the elf, to be precise - tossing around exclamations and half-finished sentiments about it.

XXX

The next day found Nathaniel pensive, his unease growing and footsteps slowing the closer they got to the Vigil.

There is nothing left for you here…

But where else would he go? Where else could he be, if not here? Back to the Free Marches was no longer an option, not with these new, talking, planning… intelligent Darkspawn prowling around the Arling.

And there was only one group who knew, really knew how to fight them.

Long before high walls of the Vigil came into view, Nathaniel had already decided where he truly wanted to be and what he intended to do. By the time they approached the gates, he also knew what he needed to do to acomplish it.