Finally, an update. Sorry for delay. :)
Thanks to Brelaina for beta reading this.
Joining
The next day the King sent the messenger back to Denerim and then merrily announced he was going to stay 'for a day or two'. Which turned into four. They were surprisingly funny days, considering that they were spent scrubbing darkspawn blood and other things from the floors and walls of the Keep. Normally it would be boring and horrible, but the King challenged a Commander 'to compete for points' – the one who could clean the most rooms, would win the bottle of the best wine the Senechal could find. The others were allowed to join in, as well, and soon they all were scrubbing as if their lives depended on it.
The Senechal Varel tried to reason with the Commander that it was not appropriate for him and His Majesty to take part in cleaning, of course. The Commander quirked his eyebrow and turned to the King.
"Hear that, Al! Seems you're too above us to help with cleaning now, you should stop."
"But if I stop now you'll win! No way I'm doing that," complained the King.
The Senechal wisely decided to leave those two to do as they pleased and focused on recruiting more servants and guards from nearby villages.
Four days later the Keep was finally clean enough. The one most happy about it was the Senechal – he was running out of good wine. And Rylock, of course. He really enjoyed watching her work. But every fun had to end, eventually. On the evening of the fourth day, the King finally announced he was going back to Denerim the next morning.
"I guess the fun part really ends now, huh," sighed the King and he didn't even try to mask the disappointment in his voice.
"Well you can always come here. We'll always find some nice dirty corridor for you to scrub." The Commander grinned. "Just try to wait at least one month before you come, all right? I'm sure we'll be low on budget for some time and royal visits are expensive."
They both laughed, then the King got serious again. "Want me to help with the Joining, before I go?"
The Commander shook his head. "No, that's something I must do alone."
"But will you be all right if... if there are complications?" insisted the King.
Complications? Anders moved closer to listen, but the Commander spoke too quietly. That made him even more worried. But there was nothing he could do – unless he wanted to join Rylock after all. No. Whatever those complications were, it could not be worse than the Rite of Tranquillity. Even death would be better than that. In fact... he glanced at the Commander thoughtfully. Perhaps those were the complications. Perhaps the Joining ritual could be fatal? Maybe they would have to undergo some test, of... endurance, or strength, or something. Whatever – as long as he would be allowed to use magic, he was not afraid. And as the Commander was also a mage, it would be safe to assume that magic was allowed. Right. Nothing to worry about.
OOo
The King left the next day at dawn. The Keep was suddenly so empty. There were few servants now, a cook and his kitchen boy, three maids, a couple of guards. But compared to the King's noisy company, it was way too quiet. Especially as the Commander was all quiet, as well. During the breakfast everyone except Oghren became nervous and tense. Mhairi could hardly eat, jumping at the slightest noise. Obviously she heard the remark about 'complications' as well, and came to the same conclusions as to what it could mean.
"Right," sighed the Commander when the silence became unbearable. "Senechal, is there a room we could have a meeting in private, without being disturbed?"
The Senechal nodded. "Of course, Commander. Everything is arranged to start exactly at ten, as you wished. If you please."
They followed the old man to one of the smaller rooms at the top floor. The room was empty except for a plain desk with one big silver goblet on it. What intrigued him more, however, was the barred window and the heavy metal door. It was all very suspicious – as if the Commander wanted to be sure none of them would be able to escape, if they decided not to go on with the ritual. He quickly glanced at Mhairi. She was just as nervous as he was.
"Should I wait outside, Commander?"
"As you already know what this is about, I don't think it is necessary. Do all the servants know they should stay away?"
"Yes, Commander, they were informed not to come to this corridor, and there are two guards at each end."
"Good." The Commander sighed. "Now listen, you three. This is your very last chance to change your mind and walk away. If you do, you will have to leave the Keep immediately, and you'll be on your own. If you decide to stay, however, then it is forever. No matter what happens here, you will not be allowed to leave. The Joining Ritual is secret and will remain so. Did I make myself clear?"
It was really weird, to see the kid Commander all grim and serious like this. As if he was some bad ass general and not a cute elven mageling. Ooh, he would be almost scared. Ears, he thought, focus on the ears. Yes, that's right. See, he's not scary. This is just probably part of the test, to see if you are afraid. Show them what you're made of!
"Anders? Are you feeling ok? Do you want a glass of water?"
He blinked. The Commander was standing in front of him, looking worried.
"Oh he's fine. I bet he just wet his pants. Wait, he doesn't have any. There will probably be a puddle below him, heheheheheh."
He didn't expect anything better from the dwarf, but his pride was hurt a little when he saw the Commander and the Senechal smirk at it. Even Mhairi laughed at it, the fat cow. As if she wasn't afraid.
"I'm fine, Commander. Let's get this over with."
"Right. What about you, Mhairi? Oghren? This is the last chance to quit."
"Naaah. Just go on," grumbled the dwarf. Mhairi nodded, trying to look brave.
"As you wish, then. Senechal, lock the door." The Commander waited until the old man did as he was told, then turned back to them, again."
"Allow me, then, to say a few words that have been said from the beginning: Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you."
Not knowing what to do, he nodded. "So what now? We have to fight each other and the one that survives will become a Warden?"
Oghren burped. "Heh. In that case you should just kill yourself, sparkle fingers. You don't stand a chance."
"That's... that's not what ritual is about," squeaked Mhairi. "Right, Commander?"
"Of course not," smiled the Commander pleasantly and pointed to the goblet. "You simply have to drink a mixture of darkspawn blood, the blood of the Archdemon and a few other, similarly pleasant things. So, who wants to be the first one?"
Even Oghren shut up at that.
"You're kidding, right?" asked Mhairi nervously. "You wouldn't really ask us to drink the blood of those things?"
"Sorry, Mhairi. No kidding this time," sighed the Commander. "Oghren. You're a brave, strong dwarf. Teach these two how to drink,"
"Hehehe, you're right. That sodding thing can't be stronger than Dragon Piss anyway." The dwarf walked over to the desk, lifted the goblet and took a long sip. They all waited, holding their breath. After a few moments that were almost painful, Oghren burped.
"Not bad, Commander. If you've got some left after this ritual, think of me."
They all laughed with relief. He wanted to go next, but Mhairi was faster. "If that drunk could do it..."
The Commander didn't say anything, just smiled and gave her the goblet. She drank – and the next moment she was on the floor, howling in pain. He moved to her, but the Commander shook his head.
"There is no way to help her, Anders. We can only wait and see if she will make it."
It didn't take long... and yet he felt as if he aged a century. He watched the Commander kneel down next to her and close her eyes, and whisper how sorry he was. It seemed so unreal. One moment she was alive, laughing at Oghren, and the next...
"Anders?"
He looked at the Commander, who was watching him with that worried look again. But this time he was probably worried that he would try to run away. Right into Rylock's loving hug, he thought with a smirk. This was at least quick.
"Give it here, Commander, before I decide to try my luck with an eighth escape," he said. The Commander gave him a grateful smile and handed him the goblet. He sniffed the liquid in it. It smelled of dirty socks , garlic and mould. Eeeew.
"Cheers, Commander," he said merrily and lifted the cup to his lips.
I don't know how the piss tastes, but it can't beworse than -