Forged In Fire

by Lady Urquentha

Elissa Cousland teased Loghain for being ridiculously sentimental when he gave her a diamond ring engraved with the words 'You Brought Me Back to Life'. Now, four months later, he is trying to kill her and she is raising an army against him.

5. In The Eye Of The Dragon

Title: Forged In Fire

Rating: M (for violence and language)

Warnings: none

Summary: Elissa Cousland teased Loghain for being ridiculously sentimental when he gave her a diamond ring engraved with the words 'You Brought Me Back to Life'. Now, four months later, he is trying to kill her and she is raising an army against him.

Disclaimer + Notes: Bioware owns everything you recognise. Everything you don't (including the poetry) is mine. Thanks ever so much to my beta-readers lilpumpkingirl and analect for their help with spelling, style, ideas and all manner of things. They have been life savers! As always, any remaining errors are mine.

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Chapter 5 – In the Eye of the Dragon

Death marches on

Its heavy tread concealed

In the silver cup of duty

Our final fate is sealed

∞ Extract from an unknown literary-minded Grey Warden's diary

The next morning, Elissa awoke in Loghain's arms before dawn. He was still asleep, although she could hear the soft sound of movement outside, suggesting that others were starting to wake.

Rolling over, she let a finger trace the outline of his face. It was peaceful in sleep as it never was while he was awake. He wasn't the most handsome man of her acquaintance, nor was he charming, suave, affectionate or any of the other characteristics that most noble girls desired. Instead, he was taciturn, arrogant, cold, difficult and unyielding. But beneath the harsh exterior, he concealed a passionate, intelligent and caring man with a biting sarcastic wit. He treated her as an equal, despite her young age and her gender, as something more than simply a nobleman's arm dressing, and had wormed his way into her heart despite her initial attempts to keep him out. And if he'd never admitted he loved her, she knew it in every touch and every kiss. That was worth a thousand young, pretty faces and charming personalities. If occasionally she missed the open, easy affection that she could have had with another, younger man, Loghain's willingness to go against his nature to provide her with the occasional romantic and affectionate gesture went a long way to soothe that. Last night, after they'd made love for the first time, he'd held her close as they slept. And for the first time since that fateful night, she hadn't woken with tears on her face after dreaming of fire, screams and death.

She slipped out of the bed silently, and winced. Muscles she hadn't known she had were aching. It wasn't painful, exactly. Just distracting. With a faint smile on her lips, she padded silently to her abandoned clothes. Slowly, she began to dress. Once finished, and with her long hair coiled into a pair of buns at the back of her neck, she moved back towards the bed. His eyes were open now, and watching her. She bent to brush his lips with hers. He caught her wrist and tugged her closer, enough for him to kiss her properly. She buried her fingers in his hair, tasting the hopefully-soon-to-be-familiar blend of sleep and Loghain. When he let her go, she trailed the back of her fingers down his warm cheek and then snuck out of his tent into the cold air, Duke at her side.

In the Wardens' area, things were already busy. She swore silently. She'd hoped to be back in her tent before anyone else was up, but several tents were empty, their occupants off somewhere else in camp. One of the other two recruits, a short man named Daveth, winked at her as she passed, and she ignored him. Ducking into her tent, she halted. Beside her pack was a fat package. Surprised, she untied the string holding it together. Folded inside the brown paper were two pairs of black linen trousers and white shirts. The grey embroidery on the collar, starting to fray, was the familiar Gwaren wyverns. She held the shirt up against her, and realised it had been altered to fit her. Clearly Loghain had been busy yesterday before dinner. She wondered who he'd gotten to do the tailoring. Smiling, she folded the clothes into her bag. Then she began to fasten on her armour, left here before going to dinner the night before. She did one last check around the tent for anything she'd forgotten to pack, and then stepped back outside.

Daveth, lightly attired in leather, was talking a mile a minute to the heavily armoured knight who had been introduced as 'Jory'. All three males were waiting for her.

Alistair brightened as he saw her. "Great. We're all here. Let me explain to you what we're looking for, and then after that you three are in charge." His leather armour squeaked as he shifted. "Our main goal is darkspawn blood. You each need one vial."

Jory frowned. "Why?"

"For this ritual of theirs, obviously." Daveth rolled his eyes. "This…Joining Duncan spoke about last night. Which someone is holding out on the details for…?"

Alistair laughed nervously. "It's…well…I can't talk about it. It's a secret."

"I don't like secrets." Jory scowled.

"Anyway," Alistair hurried on. "We're also looking for some treaties that Duncan says the Grey Wardens left in the Wilds when they left Ferelden."

"Treaties?" Elissa stared at him. "Why on Thedas would they leave something as valuable as treaties behind?"

"They left Ferelden in a rush. And I suppose they thought they'd be back a bit sooner than they have."

Elissa raised an eyebrow. "So, you want darkspawn blood for a ritual you won't tell us about, and treaties that the Grey Wardens abandoned in the middle of a forest?"

Alistair nodded. "That sounds about right."

Jory blanched. "But there are darkspawn in that forest. How many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There's an entire army there!"

Daveth stared at the knight incredulously. "So, where did you think we were going to get the blood then?"

Alistair ignored the rogue. "There are darkspawn about. But we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde."

"How do you know? I'm not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. I'm staying here." Jory shook his head firmly.

"You can't," Elissa snapped. "We've been given a job to do, Ser Jory. Duty says we must complete it. We'll just have to fight out way out of trouble."

As she expected, appealing to duty did the trick. Despite the fact his face didn't regain any of its lost colour, he nodded slowly. "I still do not relish the thought of encountering an army."

"Know this: all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, they won't take us by surprise. That's why I'm here," Alistair said.

Elissa's eyes narrowed. What was so special about being a Grey Warden that enabled them to sense darkspawn?

"You see, ser knight, we might die but at least we'll be warned about it first." Daveth laughed.

"That is…reassuring?" Jory frowned dubiously.

"That doesn't mean I'm here to make it easy, however. So let's get a move on," Alistair said briskly.

Elissa nodded. "Yes, I for one don't want to spend the night in the Wilds."

"No." Jory shivered.

They walked the short distance to the gates to the Korcari Wilds. The guards let them pass without question.

There was an eerie stillness to the woods, as they emerged. Her father had taught her the basics of hunting, and she knew that absolute silence in a wood meant something was wrong. Elissa shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to go for her sword. Beside her, Duke growled softly. She rested a hand on his head, curling her fingers into his fur.

Daveth slipped into place beside her. "So we've got a knight and a Templar." He jerked his head at Ser Jory and then Alistair and then grinned at her. "I'm a pickpocket from Denerim. What's your story?"

"It is obvious she was a soldier." The stern-faced knight didn't look very pleased as he leaned forward. "I was not aware they permitted women to join the Grey Wardens. None of those I've seen so far have been."

Elissa's eyes narrowed. She'd met men like him before, men who didn't think a woman was as good as a male warrior. "Is that a problem for you?" her voice was deceptively calm.

He seemed about to say something, and then changed his mind. "You've obviously impressed Duncan, and that's enough for me."

Her lips tightened.

Alistair cleared his throat. "There are female Grey Wardens. Just not very many."

Daveth was persistent. "So, were you a solider?"

She hesitated. "Of sorts." It wasn't entirely true. She'd been trained as a warrior, yes, but she hadn't dreamt of a career in arms since she was about thirteen. And now she found herself dropped back into the middle of that life, the life she'd intentionally forgotten.

He hummed noncommittally, and then smirked. "So, you didn't come back to your tent last night."

She ignored him.

He continued on regardless. "Found a lover here have you?"

Up ahead of her, the tips of Alistair's ears had turned red.

"Well?"

Elissa stopped, turning to the rogue. "If I answer you, will you stop talking and alerting everyone within miles to our presence?"

Daveth grinned. "Probably not."

"Then I'm not answering." Shaking her head, Elissa moved forward to the front of the group. Then she spotted movement. "Behind you." Her sword was out of its sheath instantly, and then she was sliding her shield onto her arm as Duke barrelled past her. With a roar of steel, Jory matched the dog pace for pace and lunged into the thick of battle. A whistling sound alerted her to an arrow flying past. Then the wolves were on them, snarling and snapping. She skewered the first one as it jumped at her, barely managing to keep her balance as eighty pounds of dead wolf slid down the blade of her sword. Jerking her blade free, she was turning to the next wolf before the first hit the ground.

When the battle was over, they were surrounded by dead wolves and all four of them were covered in blood. Jory, having nearly gone down beneath furry bodies several times, looked as though he'd bathed in it. Daveth, being furthest back, had fared the best. But even he had knifed one of the beasts in close quarters and been sprayed with blood.

"A good, quick fight." Jory sounded pleased.

The rogue rolled his eyes. "There's nothing honourable in being the first idiot to get into a fight, Ser Jory. That's how one ends up dead. Though, better you than me I suppose."

The knight did not reply, busy cleaning his blade against a wolf.

Elissa prodded one with her toe, and shook her head. What a waste. For wolves to attack them, they would have had to be starving. Which meant that this place had no prey, and probably was swarming with darkspawn. "Is anyone hurt?" A quick glance around indicated a negative, even from Jory. "Let's keep moving, then."

There were several minutes of silence, but Daveth clearly couldn't keep his mouth shut for long. "So, with your looks, you've probably had men throwing themselves at your feet for years."

Alistair groaned. "Daveth."

She eyed the rogue warily out of the corner of her eye. "I fail to see how that is any of your business." She could think of a number of young boys, and not-so-young men, who had paid her court at one time or another, though she suspected it was more for whatever she could bring them as a Cousland than her looks or her charms. And none of them she'd bedded, despite Daveth's implications.

"Come now." Daveth sniggered. "No need to be shy here."

"This is hardly appropriate conversation for you to have with a woman." Jory scowled darkly.

Daveth rolled his eyes. "She's not a woman. She's a Grey Warden, one of the brotherhood."

"Oh, so I give up my gender when I join?" Elissa said dryly.

"Hardly." Daveth's look was openly lascivious. "I comment because I saw you near the Highever tents last night, and I know you only arrived yesterday. I wanted to congratulate you on your quick work."

Last night? "I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

Daveth laughed. "You can play innocent all you like. But you didn't come back to your tent last night. We can all put two and two together and get four."

"Leave her alone," Alistair growled.

Daveth ignored her. "Come on, girl. I just want to congratulate you."

"There is no lover," she lied.

"Then where did you go last night?"

She sighed in exasperation and lied again, "I stayed in the Highever tents." Now she just had to hope he didn't ask the soldiers. If she asked them to, they'd lie for her, but then she'd have to explain why. And she was not having that conversation.

"Ha, I knew it. Your lover is from Highever."

"No," Elissa said sharply. "I slept in the Teyrn's tents."

Jory frowned. "The Teyrn's te…But Teyrn Cousland isn't here, and Lord Fergus is on a scouting mission and his servants would not let you sleep there without permission."

A fist clenched around her heart at the mention of her father, and she swallowed. "I am Elissa Cousland." Duke nudged her legs. She patted his head in reassurance.

"Cousland?" Alistair stiffened.

"Yes."

A dull red flush stained his cheeks. "F-forgive my earlier informality, my lady." He didn't meet her eyes.

Startled, she gave him a closer look. "You didn't know."

He didn't say anything, hurrying forward as though trying to escape her. Confused, she watched him go. There was something familiar about the way he walked.

He stopped suddenly, staring in horror at something at his feet. Quickening her pace, she caught up to him, and nearly lost her breakfast. Dead bodies littered the ground between where they stood and the shore of the lake. She felt vaguely ill; each ripped and wounded body reminded her Highever. Steeling herself, she began to check the bodies for signs of life. Moving quickly, it didn't take her long to determine that they were all dead. A flash of colour in the muck by the edge of the lake had her kneeling to tug a letter from the dirt. A moment of indecision later, she opened it and read it. It was a letter from a Missionary Rigby to his son, detailing a path to a place they would meet. She looked down at the corpse beside her. Beneath the dirt and muck, the undamaged face belonged to a boy not much older than her. This would be the son Jogby then. She folded and pocketed the note. If they found their way to this supply drop, she would see if she could find it. This boy would have no use for it, and there was no point leaving it for darkspawn. "Let's keep moving."

Some minutes later, the silence was broken yet again by Daveth. "I thought the Teyrn was fifty," Daveth nudged her with his elbow. "Is it normal for these Couslands to marry young girls?"

Duke snarled, and lunged. Elissa grabbed for his collar, barely restraining him. "He's my father, you foul-minded oaf!" Or he was my father. But she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. "Duke, enough." The pup relaxed, and whined slightly, looking up at her with big eyes.

"Your father, Lady?" The rogue looked her up and down with a cocked eyebrow. "What highbrow Teyrn lets his precious, marriageable daughter become a Grey Warden?"

"A dead one," she hissed, too quietly for either of the others to hear her.

Daveth blanched, the smirk falling from his face. "Uh…"

"Don't," she said through gritted teeth. "Just, don't."

Nearly seven hours later, Elissa was beheading the last of a group of darkspawn that Alistair had called a genlock. It was a short, ugly creature with an incredibly foul stench. The first time they'd run across darkspawn, shortly after leaving the injured warrior, Elissa had nearly lost her lunch. Only sheer determination kept her stomach where it was, and kept her sword arm carving its way through the enemies. After that fight, even Alistair had looked pale. Clearly, the stench wasn't something you grew used to.

And she'd seen darkspawn magic in action for the first time, when they'd fought a spell casting Emissary. Thankfully darkspawn looked nothing like humans, so she hadn't frozen or gotten that dreadful sinking feeling in her stomach. Still, she wasn't looking forward to coming across another one of those any time soon.

They'd already collected their three vials of blood, which had been a disgusting job in and of itself that she was incredibly relieved Daveth had volunteered to do, but were still fighting their way south to find these Grey Warden ruins.

"So, Alistair." Daveth bent to jerk his blades from the Hurlock he'd just killed. "You've been a Grey Warden for a while now, right?"

"Six months."

Daveth sheathed his blades, and then turned to wait for Jory, who was struggling to free his blade from the nearest Genlock. "What's up with Duncan and this Loghain person? I heard them having a screaming fight yesterday afternoon."

Elissa closed her eyes and sighed inaudibly. She could guess what that was about. Damn it, Loghain.

"Well, the Teyrn isn't fond of Grey Wardens." Alistair frowned. "But he's normally relatively civil."

"Well, something must have set him off." Daveth laughed. "He was furious. Saying, or shouting rather, something about Duncan overstepping his bounds…"

"I don't know what that was about." Alistair shrugged.

Elissa debated telling them for a moment, and then decided to keep her mouth shut. No need for her new comrades-in-arms to know that yet. "Are we going in?" She indicated the falling down ruins where Alistair said these documents were supposed to be.

Alistair glanced at Jory, who was approaching him. "I guess we're ready."

"Good." She walked through the broken entrance, and immediately spotted the large chest. As she moved across the broken stone and dirt floor, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She glanced around, feeling like they were being watched. Duke growled softly. But no-one was there. "Easy, boy," she murmured.

Arriving at the chest, she stared down at it. The lid was broken, and it was empty.

"Well, well," a voice drawled. "What have we here?"

Cursing herself for not following her instincts, Elissa whipped around, her hand immediately drawing her sword. A tall woman stood up high on the stone ramp, dressed in a feathered skirt, boots and shirt that revealed far more than it concealed. Her black hair contrasted with skin almost too pale to be real. The long staff strapped to her back marked her as a mage. The tension in Elissa's spine did not unravel, despite the mage's relaxed, unthreatening stance. She knew from personal experience how quickly a mage could go from peaceful to vicious.

"Are you a vulture I wonder? A scavenger poking among old bones that have long since been picked clean?" The woman began to descend the ramp.

Elissa pushed her way to the front of the group, and faced her without lowering her blade.

"Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine, in search of easy prey?" The woman halted opposite her, unnaturally golden eyes gleaming. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?

"Neither. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower." This felt like familiar ground, a war of words much like the ones waged so often by nobles in Denerim.

"Seems more like broken stones and overgrown rocks than a tower. The Wilds have long since claimed this desiccated corpse for itself." The other woman strolled forward, moving past the group and letting them all glimpse the sides of her breasts.

"Be careful, my lady. She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby," Alistair warned.

The woman laughed. "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Swooping is bad," Alistair said dryly.

Comprehension mixed with panic crossed Daveth's face. "She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is. She'll turn us into toads."

Elissa gazed at the mage with newly interested eyes. She'd heard many tales about the Witches, but this beautiful girl hardly seemed to fit those.

The mage, or witch, didn't seem impressed. "Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Tales told by men frightened of their own shadows. Have you no minds of your own, Grey Wardens?" Then she shifted her attention to Elissa herself. "You there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name, and I shall tell you mine."

"If we did frighten like boys, no child would ever be born," Elissa retorted. Then she relented with a polite smile and a wary nod. "I am Elissa. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress…?"

The woman laughed. "True indeed. And that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds. I think I like you, Elissa. You shall call me Morrigan." She crossed her arms.

"I'd be careful, my lady. First it's 'I like you', but then it's zap! Frog time." Alistair clearly had this obsession with being turned into a frog.

"She'll put us all in the pot she will," Daveth babbled. "Just you watch."

"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'd be a nice change." Jory's breath puffed white mist.

Morrigan ignored them. "I have watched your progress for some time. Shall I guess your purpose, scavenger? You sought something in the chest, something that is here no longer."

"Here no longer?" Alistair was outraged. "You stole them, didn't you? You're…some kind of…sneaky…witch thief!"

Elissa groaned silently. If she took offense…

"How very eloquent." Thankfully, the witch looked amused, not insulted. "How exactly does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems," Alistair glared at her. "Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them."

"I will not," Morrigan said indignantly. "For 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish. I am not threatened."

Elissa interrupted whatever Alistair was about to say: "But you know who it was that removed them?"

"Twas my mother, in fact."

Well, there was only one way forward then. Only, this woman's mother was likely to be a mage as well. If the stories were true about the Witches of the Wild, a mage far more powerful than any she'd met before. A shudder ran down her spine.

She gathered her courage. "Your mother? Could you take us to her?" Elissa ignored the spluttering of the men behind her.

"That is a sensible request. Very well, as you please."

"I don't think that's a good idea, my lady." Alistair ran a hand across his face.

"You want these treaties, right? They aren't here, and the only possible way to get them is to talk to Morrigan's mother."

"I still don't know." Alistair bit his bottom lip.

Elissa threw up her hands. "Fine. I'll go alone with Duke. I'll meet the rest of you back at camp."

"No." Alistair shook his head. "I can't let you go alone. I'm coming with you."

"If you've all finished deciding who is coming?" Morrigan leapt lightly onto the row of stones leading out of the tower ruins. ""Follow me, then, if it pleases you." She disappeared over the other side.

Alistair caught Elissa's arm as they moved after the witch. "Be careful, my lady," he said quietly. "I've heard tales about these Witches of the Wild."

"I have too." Elissa smiled reassuringly at him, touched by his concern. "But this is our best chance, no?"

Less than an hour later, they were approaching a hut in a clearing. An elderly woman with shoulder-length grey-black hair stood outside, clad in a worn and patched dress stood near the door She looked like any ordinary peasant woman, save for the gleam in her grey-brown eyes.

"Greetings, Mother," Morrigan's voice held no particular warmth. "I bring you four Grey Wardens…"

"I see them, girl. Hmmm. Much as I expected," the old woman said briskly.

Duke growled softly, and Elissa's eyes narrowed. As she expected? Even mages couldn't tell the future. Clearly, this woman was more than she seemed. Her hand itched to go for her sword, but she didn't dare.

Alistair frowned. "Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?"

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide…either way, one's a fool." The old woman cackled.

"She's a witch I'm telling you. We shouldn't be talking to her," Daveth hissed, not quite quietly enough.

"Quiet, Daveth," Jory whispered back. "If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?"

"There's a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides," the so-called witch said cryptically. "Believe what you will." The old woman stepped closer to Elissa, who held her ground. "And what of you, Elissa Cousland? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these boys do?"

Elissa hid her surprise that the old woman knew her name, and considered the question for a moment. Prevarication would not work here, of that much she was quite certain. "I'm not sure what I believe. That you are a witch is quite possible. But maybe you are not. I cannot say either way. And since you hold the treaties in your hands, clearly you expected us, whether because you are a witch or you saw us approaching." She shrugged.

"Now there's an answer that indicates more wisdom then it implies. Be always aware, or is it oblivious? I can never remember." The woman laughed. "A bold answer too, from someone with more reason than most to fear what a mage can do."

A chill ran down Elissa's spine. "I don't know what you mean."

"Only a fool would not fear mages after what you have seen. And we have already established that you are not a fool, yes?"

Elissa said nothing, feeling her companions' curious stares on her back. She seemed to be doing that far more often that was good for her peace of mind.

"So much about you is uncertain…your path has many roads and temptations…so many places where you will trip and fall…and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do."

Elissa eyed her warily. Clearly this woman, whoever she was, liked to speak in riddles. And Elissa hated riddles.

"So this…is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds." Alistair's voice was quiet, but not quiet enough.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh?" The old woman's amusement was clear. "Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon." She laughed, and Elissa felt a pang of sympathy for the young witch.

Morrigan winced. "They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother."

"True, they came for their treaties, yes?" She shifted her attention to Alistair. "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You-" Alistair faltered. "Oh. You protected them?"

"Is that so hard to believe? Your Wardens did a pitiful job of it." She raised her eyebrows. She stepped forward with the pile of old parchments. "Take these to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight is greater than they realise."

Greater than they realise? But if she asked for clarification, she was sure the witch would only spout more cryptic riddles that mean nothing.

"Thank you for your advice," Elissa said politely, accepting the treaties, "and for protecting the treaties."

"Such manners." She looked faintly surprised. "Hardly someone one expects, especially from one such as you, Elissa Cousland. But then, manners are always in the last place you look. Like stockings. And babies. One last piece of advice then, girl. You have already learnt that the trust is not always deserved. Now you must know that the betrayer sleeps closer to you than you know."

Howe? No, Cailan wouldn't let him anywhere near her, not now that he knew she would kill him if she had the chance. Elissa carefully kept her face blank. She could see the men looking at each other in disbelief.

Morrigan's mother had clearly seen their faces as well, and laughed. "Do not heed my advice then if you'd rather not. 'Tis up to you. Now go, you have what you came for."

"Your ruins are that way." Morrigan pointed back into the forest, clearly eager to get rid of them before her mother spilled any more embarrassing secrets of hers.

"Do not be ridiculous girl. These are your guests."

Morrigan sniffed ungraciously. "Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me." The witch led them through paths they hadn't seen before, and it wasn't long before they stood outside the gates to the camp. "This is where I leave you," she said abruptly.

"Thank you for your help." Elissa offered her a smile. Morrigan had been kind when she didn't have to be and Elissa couldn't help but admire a woman so brazen as to wear that outfit in front of men.

Morrigan looked startled. "You…are welcome."

"Perhaps we will meet again," Elissa suggested, watching out of the corner of her eye as the three men slipped through the gate.

Morrigan laughed. "I think that highly unlikely. But perhaps. One never knows." She disappeared.

Elissa started, her heart pounding in her mouth, and her hand instinctively going to her sword hilt.

An owl flapped up from where the witch had stood, and fixed Elissa with piercing yellow eyes. Then, it ghosted off through the darkened trees.

Elissa stared after her. A shape shifter? She'd heard the tales of course, but never given any credence to them. Slowly, her muscles relaxed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then she turned to walk through the gates, finding the three men waiting impatiently on the other side. As they walked through the compound, Elissa pulled off her gauntlets and her helmet to hang on her belt.

Duncan was waiting for them alone, warming his hands by the fire. He turned at their approach. "So you return from the Wilds. Have you been successful?"

"Yes," Elissa said shortly.

"Good. I've had the Circle mages preparing. With the blood you've retrieved we can begin the Joining immediately."

"Now will you tell us what this ritual is all about?" Daveth interrupted.

"It is a…test, of sorts. Of your suitability to be a Grey Warden."

Jory's dour face brightened. "A duel then? A demonstration of our battle abilities?"

Duncan hesitated. "Not exactly. It is a battle, but not a battle of arms."

"What other battles are there?" Jory's brow creased in confusion.

"You will see. But we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree you pay your price now rather than later," Duncan said.

Her heart skipped a beat. "You didn't tell me that when you conscripted me."

"If only such secrecy was unnecessary and all understood the necessity of such sacrifice. Sadly, that will never be so."

So she could die in this ritual. Fergus would be left as the last Cousland. She straightened her shoulders. She would simply have to make sure she didn't die.

"Well, I'd have been hanged in Denerim if you hadn't recruited me." Daveth shrugged. "If I die here, at least I've had a few more weeks of life. Let's go then. I'm anxious to see this Joining now."

"I agree," Ser Jory nodded. "Let's have it done."

"Then let us begin." Duncan looked to his left. "Alistair, take them to the old temple."

The Grey Warden nodded, and led them away from the campfire, towards the place where Elissa had encountered him the day before. Elissa took a moment to drop off the flower she'd picked up in the Wilds that Daveth said the Kennel Master was looking for, and then hurried to catch up.

"-the more I hear about this joining, the less I like it," Jory was saying. "Why do I need to prove myself? Have I not already proven I can fight in battle?"

"Maybe it's about more than just skill at arms?" Elissa suggested.

"Maybe it's tradition." Daveth grinned. "Or maybe they're trying to annoy you."

They all turned towards Alistair.

He shifted uncomfortably again. "….yes, while a Warden needs to be able to fight, it takes…something else to be able to survive as one."

They turned up the stone ramp leading towards the temple.

The rogue pounced. "Something else?"

"I can't talk about it. Duncan would kill me. I'm sorry."

Jory looked unconvinced. "I still don't like it."

Daveth snorted. "Are you still blubbering? For a knight, you spend a lot of time whining like a girl."

Elissa stopped beside the cracking ruins of the altar and turned towards him. "I take offence at that."

"No offence meant, my lady." Daveth swept a florid bow.

"I'm not whining," Jory said crossly. "I'm just saying that I don't understand."

"And saying you don't understand isn't going to help you understand any faster."

"All I'm saying is that I have a wife and a child on the way, at home. If I'd known that it was this dangerous…if they'd warned me…"

The other shrugged. "Maybe that's why they don't? Wardens do what they have to, right? At any cost."

"Including sacrificing us?"

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight," Daveth retorted. "You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty wife from them? The babe she carries?"

Jory looked lost. "I…"

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die. If no-one stops the Blight, we'll all die for sure." Daveth crossed his arms. "And I'm willing to bet it would be a much more painful death."

"It is your duty, Ser Jory. Just as it is mine," Elissa said quietly. All three men looked at her, seemingly having forgotten she was there.

"You are here for your duty then, my lady?" Jory asked.

"Yes," she said simply. She could see Alistair eyeing her, confusion on his face, but ignored it.

Jory looked about to say more, but was interrupted as Duncan arrived, bearing an oversized silver goblet. Accompanying him was the old mage Elissa had met the day before, the healer. In her hands she held a small glass flask of a bubbling, seething red liquid. Elissa tensed.

Duncan nodded to them all and then gestured to the mage. "This is Wynne, one of the senior enchanters of the Circle of Magi, and a friend of the Grey Wardens. Wynne, our recruits."

"Yes, I've seen them around the camp." She offered a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"If you please?" Duncan held out the goblet.

Wynne opened the vial she was carrying, and upended it into the cup. Her lips moved soundlessly, and the hair on the back of Elissa's neck rose. A soft humming sound was barely audible, so quiet that she wouldn't have heard it if her nerves weren't already strained to the breaking point. Elissa swallowed.

As the last drop of red liquid plopped down, Wynne recapped the vial. She glanced around at the gathered recruits. "Good luck." With another quick smile she departed.

"At last, we come to the Joining," Duncan announced. "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."

Elissa barely kept her jaw from dropping.

"We're…going to drink the blood of those…those creatures?" Jory gaped at him.

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

After two weeks with him, Elissa was well aware of Duncan's preachy side, but this was certainly taking the dramatic theatre to a whole new level.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in darkspawn, and use it to slay the Archdemon," Alistair added.

So they were going to drink poisonous blood and hope to the Maker that it didn't kill them. This was even worse than some of Cailan's battle plans when they were children. Although, it did explain why Duncan seemed to prefer recruits with nothing left to lose, and why the Joining was so secret. She squared her shoulders. "Right then," Elissa said. "Let's get on with this."

"Not all who drink the blood will survive, and those who did are forever changed. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay," Duncan warned. He looked at them all. "We speak only a few words prior to the Joining but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

"Join us, brother and sisters," Alistair began, his voice echoing through the ruined temple. "Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn." The air temperature seemed to fall, and Elissa shivered. "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

Oh, that was calculated to set them all at ease. Elissa's palms grew sweaty as Duncan reached for the oversized cup on the table behind him.

"Daveth, step forward," Duncan commanded.

The rogue stepped forward and took the cup. He glanced around at them, humour in his eyes. "Well, it was good knowing you." Without further ado, he tilted it back against his lips. Elissa watched his throat swallow, and then he handed the cup back to Duncan. Nothing happened for a moment, and then he gasped. Clutching his stomach, he bent almost double. Then he gagged, struggling desperately to breathe.

"Maker's breath." Jory backed away.

Elissa's eyes were riveted in horror, watching as the poison destroyed the man from the inside out. Daveth fell to his knees, struggling weakly.

"I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan murmured.

Then Daveth collapsed, lying absolutely still on the paved stone.

Elissa closed her eyes for a long moment.

Without pausing, Duncan stepped towards the knight. "Step forward, Jory."

"But…I have a wife, a child," the knight stammered. He stepped back, nearly tripping over his own feet. He drew his greatsword. "Had I known…"

Duncan's voice was dark, and dangerous. "There is no turning back."

"No, you ask too much!" Jory backed further still. "There is no glory on this."

Duncan drew his sword, and within a few moments, it was over. The winner of Highever's melee tournament lay dead in a pool of his own blood. Elissa fought to keep her stomach down and her legs where they were, resisting the urge to run away as far and as quickly as possible.

Then Duncan straightened. "But the Joining is not yet complete." Blood spattered, he turned towards Elissa. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good."

Elissa looked at him, and then the cup. She could drink, and most likely die. Or she could refuse to drink, and definitely die on Duncan's blades. She reached for the cup, and Duke growled. She quieted him with one hand, and then took the cup. Fergus, I love you. She closed her eyes. Loghain, forgive me. Then she tilted the cup up and felt the foul liquid spill down her throat. Her throat convulsed.

Duncan took the goblet from her hands. "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

Agony erupted in her stomach, spreading quickly like fire to her veins. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and her ears filled with a strange, undecipherable whisper. She heard a distant scream, and was vaguely aware of an ache in her throat. A giant dragon was shrieking, lashing its head this way and that. Iridescent dark purple scales and sharp neck spikes gleamed in the flashes of fire around it. The beast flapped its enormous wings. Malevolence and hatred poured off it in giant waves, threatening to force her to her knees. Then the monstrous head swung towards her, slitted eyes locking with her own. There was a sudden overwhelming pressure against her mind, and the pain in her head exploded. Through the agony, the whispered hiss grew louder and more insistent. Distantly she heard a shriek. She felt her grasp on consciousness slipping, and gratefully sank into the depths of oblivion.