"Careful with the oil there."

Raviathan gave a brief nod as he cut the flower ovary, squeezing the contents into the into the mixing stone. Hundreds of pale seeds spilled from the flower.

"Ah, brilliant. You have done this sort of work before."

"Yes," Raviathan replied to the kennel master. "So, grind the seeds then add the mix."

"Aye, that's right. Mix it with a bit of cheese so he'll eat it, and you're done."

"Cheese? The protein and fat don't affect the mixture?"

The kennel master's brows raised. "Hadn't thought of that. Um, some bread then, perhaps." Raviathan continued to work as the kennel master watched him. The human's proximity would have been an irritant had other matters not overshadowed Raviathan thoughts. "Pardon, Warden, but are you feeling well?"

"Fine."

"You, ah, look a bit peaked, is all."

"Long day."

"Aye, that. Not yet over either, eh. You'll be in the battle then?"

"I expect so."

The kennel master nodded then handed Raviathan a scrap of day old bread. The elf took the mixture to the kennel, the bread softening as it soaked. He didn't hesitate this time as he knelt by the mabari. At a gentle touch to the mabari's neck, the dog's eyes opened to settle on him. The poor animal was dying and in so much pain it made Raviathan's chest tighten.

"I'm going to take the muzzle off," Raviathan whispered, his fingers unconsciously scratching the dog behind the ears. "Be good and eat this."

The dog whimpered, and Raviathan had to hold up the dog's neck so that it could eat from the bowl. "That's right. That's a good dog." The dog whimpered again, and Raviathan laid him back down doing his best not to cause more pain. Already the animal was starting to stiffen. There was no point for the muzzle anymore.

Might as well let the dog die with what peace he could provide. Since his back was to the kennel master, and a quick glance showed no one was about, Raviathan laid a hand over the dog's heart. It beat under his hand, slow and far too weak. Raviathan created his first spell, the magic flowing into the dog. The light born from the spell was channeled into the dog's body so only a faint red glow silhouetted Raviathan's hand in the darkness.

Leaving the bowl on a nearby table, Raviathan left for the meeting with the king. He walked with a surreal ease as if he remained still while the fortress moved around him. The old pine trees and stone, the shadows and shifting firelight, everything seemed eternal and he just as ancient, if not in this world than in the memory of the Fade. Like the stones that made this fortress, he had been broken apart and reformed. Echoed in the blocks was the mountain they came from, ancient beyond life and remade then remade again: from mountain, to block, to brick, to stone, to earth. A remote part of his mind was still working as it normally did, another part he could feel memorizing these moments. What he had seen in the Fade, had experienced with the totality of his being, was looping over and over like a water wheel in his mind.

How long had he been in the Fade? A few moments, nothing to the annuls of history, yet everything was different as if the whole of the universe had shifted sideways. What was left of his rational mind argued with him. Nothing is different. The taint, the old gods, the Maker, all these incomprehensible forces that were deeper than all of the oceans, vaster than the endless night sky, they were just as they had been this morning when he woke on the side of the road. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

The taint sat like a stone in his stomach, its poison leaking into him. Part of his mind wanted to take a dagger, slice open his stomach as if the taint were a tumor to be excised. The saner part of him keep his hand from reaching for a blade. Strangely, a memory of his mother singing kept repeating, drowning out the rest. The sane and not so sane fragments of his mind let the song take over. Her voice filled him up, brought him back together, acted as both shield and salve.

I am a Grey Warden.

A rumble of thunder from the south sounded low in the pressurized air. Elves scurried about, frantic to protect the items under their assigned care. The rest of the fortress was near deserted of soldiers who were down in the valley.

He settled his new backpack as he walked to the meeting. The straps were wide, the pack well balanced so he didn't notice it as he moved. Raviathan wondered how obvious the change in him was. The quartermaster stared at him as they traded, Raviathan mostly quiet but getting good prices nonetheless. The reactions from shems that had irritated him before just didn't matter to him anymore. Let the shems stare. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Now he had a new dagger in his boot, a few survival items, and more coin than he ever had in his life. He had sold the lyrium potions swiped from the mage's chest. While the blue potion hypnotized him, he dared not carry such goods until his standing in the Wardens was irrefutable. He could always claim that the tiny vial remaining in his healer's kit was for research purposes.

No matter the danger, he couldn't give up the book now hidden in his pack. The book on herbalism and potion recipes had made him gasp as he flipped through the pages. Solyn's knowledge had been limited to what she learned in Tevinter and the bits she gleaned from other healers, but she was not as well versed in Fereldan fauna. This book was a wealth of mundane and spectacular potions. Now that he was a Warden he might be able to make items from the few Fade infused ingredients found in this world, rare fire crystals and frostrock, items that were now settled protectively in his healer's kit.

The King's armor gleamed in the gloom of the antechamber. What a target he makes, Raviathan thought. I could see that golden armor from miles away, even at night. Others were gathered around the main table, Loghain's indomitable form, nobles and knights, a Chantry mother, a mage. And there was Duncan. Raviathan's heart lifted to see him mentor. All the odd fragmented thoughts came together. Duncan had survived the Joining. If there was one other person Raviathan knew understood him, it was Duncan. Raviathan moved to stand beside his mentor, pride filling his chest and peace coming over him.

"Ah, and here is the recruit!" The king was smiling at him. "I understand congratulations are in order."

Raviathan met his gaze with a level calm. "Yes, Your Majesty."

A frown crossed the king's brows as he regarded the elf. Cailan wore much the same expression as the others Raviathan had talked with tonight: puzzled, watchful, a bit curious, and wary. A touch of sadness set Cailan apart from the rest, for what, Raviathan couldn't guess. Duncan shifted at his side, moving close enough so that Raviathan could feel his presence as he would the heat from a campfire.

"You do seem changed. Duncan said there was no going back once you were part of the Order, but I did not realize how true his words were. One day, Duncan, I will have to learn this secret."

"Your Majesty…"

"I know, I know," Cailan said, a tolerant sigh cutting off the argument. "If only all our knights could be so easily trained."

Chuckles from the other nobles met Cailan's quip.

"Indeed, but readied and at your command nonetheless," said a noble with a red stag on his crest. "My men are in position, Your Majesty."

"As are mine," replied another noble with bright blonde hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. "These darkspawn certainly seem to love the taste of defeat."

More laughter greeted this statement. Cries of support filled the antechamber. Bravado, or were these nobles truly so blind, Raviathan wondered.

"Good," said Cailan. "And you, Duncan?"

"Your Majesty," Loghain said through a clenched jaw. "I protest again." The tension in the small party rose.

"Noted, now Bann Fer-"

"Why are you putting so much faith in these Wardens?" Loghain said the word as if it were a curse. "They tell us nothing of their Order, not even the most basic facts of how they are organized. You cannot be sure of their purpose."

A hand on Raviathan's shoulder warned him to stay quiet while they watched the two men. Cailan turned on Loghain. "Their purpose is to fight the darkspawn."

"Their purpose is to bring in the Orlesians!" Loghain's voice matched the coming thunder. "Two hundred march at our border. We weaken here with only wives and children defending our castles. These Wardens have turned against the crown before. How can you not see this?"

Cailan stood at his full height as he glared at Loghain. "You speak of the past, Loghain. And you speak out of turn. Currently, I'm wondering about your loyalty."

The accusation hit like a slap. The nobles shifted, their bluster for the coming battle diminishing as their leaders fought.

Madness, Raviathan thought. To do this here? Now? Their armies will fracture like glass.

"Your Majesty," Loghain began, his voice steady if not calm. "All I have ever cared for is this land. I would protect Ferelden with my life."

"Then the plan remains." Cailan turned his attention back to the maps. "We draw the darkspawn into the valley below, and you will lead your men from the flank at the signal."

"Your Majesty," Loghain said. "Will you not reconsider where you will stand during the battle? As the king you should not be near the skirmish."

Cailan's fist clenched, the metal of his armor scraping. "We are all needed in this fight."

"We are, Your Majesty," said the mage. He had a pinched face, his sallow skin carrying a hint of sunburn. While his muted robes were designed to be unobtrusive, his manner demanded attention. Raviathan studied him. A scholar, soft bodied and pale from lack of sun during his life, but with ambition giving him nervous energy. "We would do our part as well by lighting the signal."

The Chantry mother's lips pulled back. "We will trust no mage. Keep your demon damned spells pointed at the darkspawn."

Glaring at the priestess, the mage stepped back then lowered his head. So, clearly the priestesses had the king's favor over the mages. Raviathan wondered if he would still have the king's favor if Cailan learned an apostate stood only feet from him. Flemeth had asked about beliefs, and Raviathan saw the damage beliefs wrought now. The mages wielded magic, real, demonstrable power. A mage's power was not some abstract thing to be debated. The priestesses though? They prayed to a god who had long turned his gaze away from this world. They may sooth a man's conscience, but their power was all in what men gave them.

"I can put some of my men on the task," Loghain said. "Though not dangerous, the signal is vital for the success of the battle."

"Your men are needed most," Cailan said. "If it is not dangerous, have Alistair do this."

Raviathan expected another fight from Loghain for putting a Warden in charge of the signal, but the battle weary knight nodded before returning his attention to the maps.

"Duncan, have your new recruit join him. Find me when you are done," Cailan said.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Discussions for the battle continued as Duncan lead Raviathan away. In moments the nobles were rallying again, their cheers sounding overly optimistic in a world divorced from the Maker's sight. Raviathan asked in a low voice, "Why did the king want me there?"

"I believe he wanted to see for himself how the Joining changes a person. He has been curious, but you can understand why the ritual must remain a secret."

Yes, yes he could. "Light the signal?"

"At the top of the Tower of Ishal. Oil and fire crystal are set to make a fire bright enough to be seen from any point for miles around the valley, even with the coming storm. Alistair will know what to look for."

"Alistair." Raviathan's lips thinned.

Duncan's hand squeezed his shoulder then turned them so they were face to face. "Rav. The signal is your priority, not mage politics. That said, I want you to guard Alistair in this task."

"Guard him?"

At Raviathan's confusion, Duncan's expression softened. "I understand your feelings about templars. I do. I would ask you to care for Alistair as he is now your brother. Rav, this is important to me."

That fool meant so much to Duncan? If Duncan had said the task was important, that would be a simple order. However, 'important to me' echoed in Raviathan's thoughts. The words were not just about Raviathan working with the other members of the Wardens. Duncan had a personal attachment to that shem. "Of course, Duncan. As you will."

"Good lad." They continued down the slope from the antechamber to the main fort. "Now you can see how precarious our situation is and the need for tact. While Loghain's opinions are not the king's own, he is a powerful teyrn and holds considerable sway. Without his military backing, we would be sorely pressed."

A glint of gold caught Raviathan's eye. The king was parading with his nobles through the gates to the battle below. "Once the signal is lit, shall I join you?"

"I'll send word if you are needed. Can you find Alistair from here?"

"Yes, Duncan." After a moment's hesitation, Raviathan added, "Maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all," Duncan said. Raviathan watched his mentor's retreating back, wondering at their little ritual prayers to the Maker. The words were habit, not true sentiment.

Remembering his earlier despair, Raviathan felt the Joining vision with stinging clarity. Alone. Empty. Worthless. The Maker had abandoned them. Even when Raviathan had known that truth for years, the pain of abandonment had never stabbed at his heart as it did now. Shred him with broken glass so he bled from a dozen wounds, and that would be better than this forsaken existence. Living evil was amassing beneath his feet, evil that would rise and strike at any time. There was no getting away from it, no hiding. No escape. When darkspawn erupted from the ground to taint all they touched, when an old god could shatter his soul without effort, the world was lost without the Maker.

How could the Maker leave them like this? It was as senseless as leaving a baby in a forest to be torn apart by wolves. Our lives are such tiny, fragile things. We are blind and stumbling through this world. How could a being of such magnitude not understand our limited existence? How could he not have compassion for his own children?

With a shock that stopped him cold, Raviathan realized the darkspawn had more faith than he did. They believed in the old gods and served with single minded purpose. The old gods hadn't deserted the darkspawn as the Maker had his own creation. The old gods sang to the darkspawn, filling their devotees' minds with the power of eternal presence, an undeniable knowledge that they were chosen to serve, that their god would always be with them.

We sing to a god who has deserted us, and their god sings to gather them.

Justice does not exist in this world.

With a bitter twist to his lips, Raviathan walked to the campfire where Alistair waited, an apostate having to defend a templar. Justice is a cosmic joke.

~o~O~o~

Duncan made his way quickly through the interior of the fortress to meet with the Grey Wardens a final time before that battle. To his surprise, Tamriel was slouched against a hallway wall waiting for him with his arms crossed over his chest and head down, a common position for the elf. The elf looked almost bored though his hard eyes remained watchful. The old knife scars made long shadows along his face. The lanky black hair was kept long to help hide a docked ear, but the slashed top was still noticeable for the absence of a peeking ear point. He was small and wiry but was surprisingly strong despite his lean frame. When he saw Duncan he gave a small nod to a side room that had been used as storage though stood mostly empty until new supplies came.

Figuring this had something to do with Alistair's report of the newest Grey Warden, Duncan followed with guarded interest. He wanted to get the other elf's opinion, but the cold contained manner suggested the elf was upset.

When the door closed Tamriel rasped out, "Alistair's told us 'bout this new one." Having grown up in the more wild parts near Gwaren, Tamriel had a rolling dialect that was thicker when he was angry, as it was now.

"Raviathan," Duncan said.

Tamriel's head stayed tilted down, his arms crossed defensively, but he glared at Duncan with eyes that looked bird black when they didn't reflect silvery green in the low light. "He says you're close."

That was an accusation if Duncan ever heard one. As reclusive as Tamriel usually was, he hadn't normally been difficult to handle. Generally the elf kept his head down and did as he was ordered with less fuss than most, but that was not the situation here. "He's been explaining a lot about elven culture. I've come to realize how many unintended slights…"

Tamriel stepped up to him then, dark eyes glowing. "Did ye make a pet out of that boy?"

Keeping his cool, Duncan looked down his nose at the smaller man. "Careful," he warned. "And no. I didn't recruit Rav to be my personal whore."

Tamriel waved a dismissive hand at that. "I didn'a ask if ye'd fucked him. Have ya been sleeping with him?" At Duncan's reaction, Tamriel's lip curled, and he thumped his back against the wall in much the same slouch Duncan had seen in the hallway. "Ahgh," he rumbled deep in his throat. "Aye, that's just great."

"It isn't like that," Duncan said.

"Oh, don't start with me. I've followed ye without complaint, and I'll continue to do so. But ye listen here Duncan, ye don't understand shite about elves."

What was he missing this time? "This was hardly my first encounter with elves, and Rav is not my pet."

Tamriel turned those hard, midnight eyes back up though his face remained averted. "Pets don't always mean sex. Why'd ye think they'd call us pets rather than whores? Does 'e want to be close ta ya? Follow orders easily, maybe eagerly, and do what 'e can ta serve ya? Without yer even asking? Like a smart dog perhaps? Likes it when ye touch 'im? Don't bother saying it. I can see that in your face clear as day."

With a growing knot of dread that had nothing to do with the upcoming battle, Duncan realized what Tamriel said was more true than he wanted to believe. Though he wasn't convinced yet, the implications were something to watch out for. "What would that mean for Rav?"

Some of the anger drained out of Tamriel as he watched Duncan. "Don't rightly know. Ta cast 'im off now would just cause 'im more hurt." With and exasperated fall of his shoulders, Tamriel faced him. "Why'd ya do it, Duncan? Surely the lad warned ye off?"

Duncan sighed, sat on a crate, and Tamriel did likewise. "We don't have time to get into it, but Rav was very upset with events which lead to his conscription. I put down most of his anger to that." Duncan waved his arm as if that could help explain what happened. "He didn't want to share a bed, but there was only one available the first few days. He slept on the floor, but it was so cold the first night." Duncan rubbed his forehead. He didn't need this distraction less than an hour away before a battle. Maker help him if this was true. "Afterwards he explained that sharing a bed was considered intimate. More than sex. By then though, he seemed fine with it."

Leaning down with his arms on his legs, Duncan wondered how something that had filled him with calm only a few hours ago could have gone so pear shaped. His hopes of Raviathan acting as a bridge for this elf had evaporated. How would the two get along? Would Tamriel respect him as a brother or give Raviathan problems for becoming a pet? And did this mean that Raviathan was still going to be suspicious of his new brothers because they wouldn't have the relationship Duncan did with him? ""You said it would be worse to cast him off?"

"Aye," Tamriel agreed. "I don'a keep myself so separate just 'cause I've reason to detest shems so. It's for my own protection since I've not bonded my life with another."

Duncan hadn't heard of that before, not with elves at least. Not that he talked to many elves, but Fiona hadn't said anything about it. It hadn't come up with the other elves he had more casual relationships with, like Valendrian. "Bonded your life?"

"Ta be honest, most elves don't even think 'bout this 'cause it's just the way we are. It weren't until I was around humans so that I came to understand it better. I hate ta say it, 'cause we're so abused this way, but we want to serve. It's a part of our nature unless it gets a beaten out of us. Like children love their parents unless they gets too hurt by 'em. That's why it's easy to exploit us so. Beat an elven servant, he'll still come back ta ya, whimpering like a dog. Makes our communities tight, even in times of despair. Makes us slaves ta shems who can'a feel the same." He paused clasping his hands. "You're a good man, Duncan. I know ye'd not do that intentionally."

"You're not bonded? What does that mean?" As with some of Raviathan's explanations making Tamriel's behavior suddenly clear, Tamriel was doing the same for the other elf. Holy Maker. Had he really turned the boy into a pet? The idea sickened him.

"I don'a want to say too much since all of us is different, just like with you shems. It's… argh. I hate to say such, but like them mabari." Tamriel's head hung, tension making his body wire tight. "Not, not dogs, but we're so close to the Fade like. The way them mabari bond, well, we're a bit of the same. It's our way of devoting ourselves to a mate. Ye know the history, how we used to live forever. Shems can'a go twenty years without turning from their mate. Imagine you and your mate are together for thousands. Takes something a wee bit stronger than young lust to weather the endless time."

Tamriel wrung his hands as he talked, a sign he wasn't comfortable with the conversation. As far as Duncan had known the man, he had never once heard Tamriel talk about love or relationships. "For it to be a true mating among our kin, it's got ta be mutual and can happen sort'a quick like. Not always, but usually. Some find their mate easier than others. When ye see a couple not acting right, usually they didn'a bond to begin with. Mated elves who are cruel, well that's just unnatural. It marks 'em, ye know? They're broken like. What ye have to understand it that we don'a even realize it's what we do. We can control it a bit, like when we know someone's forbidden or already mated. But he'd not even be aware enough to try and protect himself. I think that's why marriages are arranged, ta keep the youngins safe from themselves. It's why we marry young, too."

"Rav and I aren't mated."

"Didn'a ya think the boy took to ye rather quick?"

"A few days," Duncan admitted.

Tamriel waved a hand. "It can happen outside our race. That's when ye get pets, 'cause it's so one sided. For all that a shem might love an elf, ain't nearly the same. Bloody hurts to see one of ours pine for a mate that's grown cold."

"Can an elf be bonded to more than one person?"

"If one is lost, grief closes us for years. Not often but a few elves will be able ta let their heartsickness go, ta find another who can fill their days."

"What about two at the same time?"

Tamriel looked at him askance, one eyebrow high to make the furrows of his brow deep. "Not heard of that before."

"He was married," Duncan said quietly.

"And you took him from that?" Tamriel looked stricken. "Ah, Duncan, why?"

"A longer story than we have time for now, but he was going to the gallows. I conscripted him to save him."

"Aye, then." Sorrow bowed Tamriel's head, his hands clasped tight before him. "I don't know exactly what's going on, but it's not good."

"Not good?"

"Mayhap he wasn'a mated truly with his wife?"

"He was. If I knew nothing else, that I could see."

Murmuring deep in his throat, Tamriel lowered his head. "Ain't natural to take to another so quick like that. I'd tell ye more, but now's not the time. Once I get a sense of the boy and what happened, I can make it clearer for ya."

The Calling wasn't far off. If only he had more time. Until now, he had thought he made his peace with it. "He takes away the nightmares," Duncan said quietly.

"What?" Tamriel's brows crossed, making the shadows deepen in a face that belonged more to a world weary villain.

Duncan bowed his head. "I've started having the nightmares. In a month or two, I'll have to take the Calling." Tamriel sat up straight with alarm then sorrow crossing his face. He didn't say anything, but his look was clear enough. They both knew Duncan was getting older, but the Calling didn't come at the same time for everyone, and it did strike by surprise at times. Duncan said, "When we," this was awkward to explain, even to an elf who understood the distinctions. "When he's close, I don't have the nightmares."

Tamriel cocked his head, looking like an inquisitive blackbird. "I've not heard that before either."

Duncan blinked rapidly. He didn't want to give Raviathan up. It had felt too good to have his burdens eased for just a short time. "Rav really wouldn't understand what's going on?"

Tamriel shook his head. "If he's been brought up in an alienage, he'd a have little ta no experience with how different shems and elves can be. If he'd grown knowing only humans, he might of have a better understanding, but it's all instinctual for us. Those who've gotten cynical 'bout it," he gave Duncan a look letting him know that the elf considered himself to be of the latter kind, "usually have had a bit of both. Living betwixt elves and humans. Ye don't think 'bout that sort of thing normally 'less someone points it out to ye. Like saying humans are never satisfied with what they've got."

"I don't know if that's fair," Duncan said, but he wasn't angry.

"Oh?" the elf replied with a sardonic raise of his eyebrow. "Look at this swamp. Nothin's here to want. Fog and wastes, but here's a ruin a thousand years old 'cause humans wanted more. Just over those mountains ta the west is a forest that none live in 'cept dryads and other monsters. But that Chantry didn'a want elves to have that small plot of freedom with our own gods. Ye know about the occupation of this land, what ended only thirty years ago, a frozen country so that ye complain 'bout it every winter when your knees ache. Still, humans wanted more. And that's not even getting to the rich who stomp on everyone for just a wee bit more. Compare all that ta elves. We just want ta serve or ta be left alone. We live in shit and complain only when we're starved ta bones."

Though too broad a generalization, there was some truth to the elf's words. Getting up, Duncan said, "Battle's going to begin soon. We can continue this discussion later."

"Aye. That king's a right idiot though." Enthusiasm changed the elf's manner from night to day. "Did ye know 'bout Loghain and the night elves he called them?"

"Watch how you speak about the king."

"Oh, I know, but it's just us right now. But night elves hunting the Orlesians like hawks on rabbits? That's right keen."

"I've heard something about that. During the last years of the rebellion." Doubtless Raviathan would also be interested in that bit of history.

"Ah, Duncan," Tamriel said in a low voice as they left the room to make their way through the deserted hall to the Grey Wardens' campsite. "Do naw trouble yerself overmuch 'bout this boy. Perhaps it's not so bad seeing a good side ta ya race. If it were ta be anyone, you'd be the one I'd pick ta help 'im through. We'll get it sorted out soon enough."

The change in Tamriel's opinion was probably due to Duncan's confession about the Calling. He clapped a hand on the elf's shoulder as they left the lower gates but took it away quickly now that he understood the elf's distance. But another of Tamriel's remarks kept his attention. To serve. Even when Tamriel was rightfully upset about what Duncan had unwittingly done to another of his kind, the elf was now putting him and the battle first. "What did Alistair say exactly?"

"Don'a worry. Lad was smart enough not to blurt that out in front of everyone. Took me aside and asked. Aye, but he's been worried about ya, gone fer as long as ye were."

Ah, Alistair. Struck anew by Tamriel's words, Duncan wondered what Alistair might have inherited from his mother.