A/N: Here's chapter four! Enjoy :) and do leave some reviews. Thanks for reading :)

Chapter IV: The Joining

To Logan's dismay, Morrigan lived in a small cottage with her mother in the middle of the Wilds. It didn't seem to bother her as she led them towards an old woman standing in front of the cottage, already observing them from afar as though she had been expecting them. Morrigan walked up to her and gestured to the group behind her.

"Greetings mother," she said, her tone a little too formal for Logan to even believe that they were mother and daughter, "I bring before you six Grey Wardens who—"

"I see them, girl," the older woman said, her golden eyes following the six as they approached her. "Hm, much as I expected." Despite her frail figure, Logan had a feeling that she was not someone to be taken lightly—how could an old woman and her daughter live in the Korcari Wilds for so long without being overrun by darkspawn or even the Chasind?—and made sure that he chose his words carefully.

Alistair, on the other hand, didn't seem to think the same. "Are we supposed to believe that you were expecting us?" he said bluntly, earning a swift punch from Daveth on the arm. "Ow, hey!"

Morrigan's mother wasn't amused. "You are required to do nothing, least of all believe," she said, her tone growing darker. "Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide—either way, one's a fool."

"She's a witch, I tell you," Daveth whispered, "We shouldn't even be talking to her!"

"Shut up with the witches already!" Garrett said exasperatedly, "Really, do you thinkthey'd waste their time on a fanatic like you?"

Jory seemed unnerved at the rogue's words, and cast a hasty, frightened glance at the old woman before looking back at Daveth. "Quiet, Daveth! If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?" he said frantically, his eyes growing wider as he realized that Morrigan's mother was looking at him.

"There's a smart lad," the old woman said, chuckling, "Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." Turning to Logan, a small smile flashed across her face but disappeared as quickly as it had come—something that reminded Logan of Morrigan (little wonder why)—and took a few steps forward. She looked upon him with a sort of hopefulness in her eyes, as though she was pinning her hopes and bets onto him like he would be the key to something… something that was a part of the 'larger scheme of things', he presumed.

It unsettled him, but he refused to let her stare get to him. "And what of you?" she asked Logan, "Do you have a different opinion of things?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure what to believe," he said. I just want the treaties. Behind him, he could hear Garrett say something like 'there's really no difference between witches and mages' and how he 'can't understand why some people are so dense'. Secretly, he agreed—he knew Morrigan and her mother were of no harm to them, especially when they have withheld the treaties for so long. If they meant them any harm, they would have incinerated the documents a long time ago.

"Wise words," said Morrigan's mother, her eyes softening slightly. "So much about you is uncertain and yet I believe—do I? Why, it seems I do!"

"So this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds," Alistair sneered, a grin stretching across his face as he heaved a sigh of relief. "I thought they were real for a moment—but nightmares always come to an end, don't they?"

"A Witch of the Wilds?" the old woman repeated, thoroughly amused, "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 glanced at her daughter with a mocking expression on her face. Logan concluded that these two women shared a very peculiar relationship—one he would not like to delve into for fear of uncovering more things that baffled him.

He also noticed that Morrigan was extremely irritable at this point. "They did not come to listen to your wild tales, mother," she groaned, rolling her eyes and looking away from the group. Somehow, he figured that she perhaps did revel in these legends of the witches and surprisingly enough, he couldn't blame her. For one thing, she walked with a certain kind of ferocity and confidence—something he was sure that a Witch of the Wilds would have to possess.

"True," her mother said, "They came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You—" Alistair paused for a moment, registering her words slowly. A sudden realization dawned upon him as he looked at the two women curiously, this time without hostility. "Oh, you protected them?"

"And why not?" she said, handing the documents to Logan, "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blight's threat is greater than they realize!"

Logan looked down at the worn documents in his hand and looked back up at Morrigan's mother. "That was surprisingly easy," Garrett thought out loud, "Well, can we go back now? I have a feeling there are more darkspawn waiting to set us on fire or possibly even mutilate us—a fate far worse than being turned into a toad." He grinned smugly at Daveth and Jory, who were both merely gaping at the sudden turn of events.

"Thank you," Bethany said, stepping forward, "This means a lot to us."

"Yes, that's right," Logan agreed, "This will ensure the Blight's end, I assure you."

She laughed. "Do with them what you will—but do not fail."

"Time for you to go, then," Morrigan said, sounding much more relieved than Logan had expected. He looked at her and smirked, sensing her annoyance at the Grey Wardens' intrusion, to which she responded with the simple rolling of her eyes. If he could spend eternity annoying someone to death, Logan knew it'd have to be her. But it wasn't as though they were going to see each other again, so he pushed that thought away.

"Do not be silly, girl!" barked her mother, "These are your guests!"

Morrigan sighed and shook her head. "Very well," she lamented, "I will show you out of the woods. Follow me."

Somehow, Logan knew the trip back was going to be far more amusing for him than anyone else.

"I still don't know what the blood is for," Garrett exclaimed for what seemed to be the fifth time since their stroll from Morrigan's hut to the camp, and looked at Alistair. "Can't you give us even one small hint?"

Alistair chuckled. "No, I'm afraid not," he said apologetically, "But you have a very annoying kind of determination, I'll give you that. Anyway, don't worry. I was exactly like you when I was your—oh, wait, we're probably about the same age. I meant that I was like you when I was going through my initiation."

"You can take your small talk and shove it," Garrett growled, visibly frustrated at Alistair's refusal to say anything about the Joining.

"Patience, magey," Alistair teased. "You'll find out soon—and I'm pretty sure you'll want to forget it right after."

"Yeah, Carver used to call us that when we were young," Garrett reminisced, glanced at Bethany as Alistair walked off to find Logan, "Remember? He used to run around the house all day screaming 'magey' because father was training us."

Bethany let out a laugh. "Yes," she said, smiling, "Sometimes I think he was just jealous of us."

Garrett smirked. "Boy like Carver, I wouldn't be surprised if he was," he said, recalling his memories of Carver, Bethany's twin brother and his younger brother, "I wonder if he's doing well with mother."

"He's strong, even if he is kind of impulsive and rash," Bethany said, tracing circles on the stone table they were sitting around. "I know he'll take care of mother. I know he's taking care of her right now, waiting for us. Right?"

"Right," Garrett said, "And even if he dreamed of his own adventure somewhere else, mother would never let him go. He's the only thing she has left, apart from us, until we go home. They'll be right where we left them—Lothering. Home."

"I hope you're right," Bethany went on, "And Logan… he's sticking with us, right?"

Garrett smiled. Despite just being his second cousin, Logan Amell was more of a brother to him and Bethany. Letting him go would just be criminal—especially when his family was probably gone. He wouldn't just let Logan walk off anyhow—he was going to take care of his family like he always did.

"Of course he is," Garrett asserted Bethany, "He's family—we're family. We stick together no matter what."

It was cold—colder than the night was actually supposed to be—as a tense, loud silence filled the air. The potential Grey Wardens stood side by side—save for Jory, who was pacing back and forth and breaking out in cold sweat—and waited for Alistair and Duncan to return from getting something for the Joining. It was a strange kind of silence—the kind you would only feel if you were only seconds away from getting an angry lecture from your father or seconds away from imminent danger. The Joining seemed to feel like a sort of imminent danger, anyway, as though it was something one would regret once they found out about it.

And yet, if one was to regret partaking in this Joining, Logan knew it'd be far too late by then. He decided to remain calm as he watched Jory pace up and down with a panicked expression on his face, clearly sensing his fear and anxiety.

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it," Jory breathed, visibly disturbed by something.

Daveth groaned and shook his head. "Are you blubbering again?" he grumbled, looking irritated and frustrated at Jory's paranoid behavior. Logan suspected that the statues that surrounded them in this broken structure didn't help, either—it seemed as though they were here to be witnesses to something that was far riskier than anything he had ever done so far. Their cold yet unassuming features seemed to be saying that there was no turning back, and it was too late to even try. Jory didn't seem to like that idea.

"Why all these damned tests?" Jory sputtered, slamming his fist against the wall, "Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition," Daveth pointed out exasperatedly, "or maybe they're just trying to annoy you." Garrett let out a snort and Logan grinned—if anyone was trying to annoy any of them, he knew it wouldn't be Duncan. He would trust Alistair to come in with a foolish smile and tell them that the test in the Korcari Wilds was all there was to the Joining, but he knew nothing like that would even happen. Not while they still had the darkspawn blood, anyway.

"Maybe we have to drink the blood!" speculated Garrett, smirking as Jory's eyes widened with horror.

"Please," Logan snickered, "As though they would really—"

"I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way," Jory interjected, clearly not appreciating Logan and Garrett's sense of humor. "If they had warned me I'd—it just doesn't seem fair."

Daveth shrugged. "Would you have come if they had warned you?" he argued, stepping forward, and when Jory's face became uncertain, continued, "Maybe that's why they don't. The Wardens do what they must, right?"

"Including sacrificing us?" refuted the nervous warrior.

Garrett shook his head. "You don't even know that for sure," he sneered.

"Garrett," Bethany whispered warningly, "Not now."

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight," Daveth said with finality in his tone.

Inwardly, Logan wanted to agree, but he didn't like the idea of being sacrificed before he even got to see the last of his family—not even if it meant ending the Blight. Somehow, he just didn't seem to like the way the dance was turning out. At first, it felt liberating and it felt like an answer, but now, it was becoming more and more complicated.

What if someone died—what if he had to be the one to tell Aunt Leandra that her oldest son or youngest daughter was dead because they became Grey Wardens? He knew he had a certain responsibility over the two Hawkes, but it was starting to become much heavier.

"You're right," Bethany agreed. "I'd do anything to stop this Blight."

"Now, now, sister," Garrett responded warily, "Don't just throw words around like that—"

"I'm serious, Garrett," Bethany retorted, a kind of seriousness and determination burning in her hazel brown eyes, "This Blight could very well put even our family in danger. Don't you want to save them, too?"

Garrett scratched his head and sighed, clearly feeling the same as Logan. "I know, but I'm not going to let you run off into thousands of darkspawn and face an archdemon—not if I can help it anyway," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I just don't want to be the one to tell mother that you… you know…"

Bethany's forcefulness seemed to fade as she looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm not going to die, brother," she said sadly, "We're not going to let anyone die." She looked at Logan, who forced a comforting smile. "Right?"

His heart lifted at the fire still present in her eyes. Sometimes, she reminded him of his own mother—what, with that undying passion and determination, it was hard not to think about Revka Amell, the strongest woman in this life—and now she was beginning to give him the strength that was lost when he was snatched from his mother's arms. His smile became more genuine as he walked up to her and took her by the hand.

"I'm not letting any of you die," he promised confidently, "We're all going home together after the Blight. We won't leave anyone behind."

Garrett broke into a small smile—one that wasn't normally cocky or teasing—and punched Logan on the arm. "I'll hold you to it if you'll hold me to mine," Garrett said, "Same promise—no strings attached, this time." Logan laughed—Garrett did have a penchant for manipulating the people around him with his charm and then forcing them into a trap without anyone realizing it—and nodded affirmatively.

Just then, Alistair and Duncan returned, with Duncan holding a rather large goblet. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice steely and determined.

"Always," Garrett responded quickly, "You know it."

Duncan smiled appreciatively. "At last, we come to the Joining," he said, placing the goblet on the stone table near them. He gestured to Alistair to come forward, who immediately walked up to the goblet and poured in the darkspawn blood, much to Logan's shock.

"I knew they were going to make us drink it," Bethany murmured, sounding worried, "It won't taste bad, will it?"

Duncan chuckled, but went on nonetheless. "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."

Jory swallowed hard and let out a soft whimper. "We're… going to drink the blood of those… creatures?"

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you," Duncan stated strongly, looking directly at Jory, "This is the source of our power and our victory."

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint," Alistair explained, sensing their confusion, "We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon."

"Then we do it now," Logan said, "We are ready, Duncan."

Duncan looked at Logan with a new sense of admiration, for he had never seen one so young accept the Joining so eagerly. Perhaps it was excitement—or perhaps it was something much deeper than just a sense of thrill or the adrenaline pumping through his veins…

And yet, there it was—absolution in his eyes.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining," Duncan announced, looking at Alistair, "But these words have been said since the First—Alistair, if you would?"

The bronze-haired Grey Warden nodded and stepped forth. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant," Alistair declared, bowing his head as though out of respect for the many Wardens before them, "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."

The words, though simple, were powerful enough to make a strong impact on Logan. He looked at the cup filled with a new sense of confidence and readiness, and did not notice Jory backing away slowly. Duncan strode past them and picked up the goblet and stood firm. "Daveth, step forward," he said, holding the cup up to the rogue.

Daveth took the cup from Duncan and peered at its contents. He flinched when the smell hit him again and then closed his eyes and drank from it. Logan could feel his insides begin to churn and looked away, only to catch Alistair's eye. The Grey Warden smiled encouragingly at him.

After a few seconds, Daveth began to cry out in pain as he clutched his head, stumbling backwards. Suddenly, he looked up at Duncan with his eyes wide open—Logan noticed, with much horror, that his pupils had completely disappeared, indicating that he was probably seeing something—and reached out for help, but the senior Warden could only stand and watch with a sort of remorse in his eyes.

"Maker's breath!" Jory breathed, his eyes filled with fear as he watched Daveth fall to the ground and become limp—lifeless.

"I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan said grimly, before turning to Jory, "Step forward, Jory."

"But… I have a wife," Jory stammered, backing away slowly as he drew his greatsword, "and a child—had I known—"

Duncan's eyes were fixed on him as he stepped forward, holding the cup that he had taken back from Daveth. "There is no turning back," he said darkly.

"No," Jory said, turning even more frightened than before, "You ask too much—there is no glory in this!" He pointed his sword directly at Duncan, who slowly drew his dagger. Logan tensed immediately as Duncan took several more steps towards Jory and the warrior made to strike him down, and watched as Duncan dealt the killing blow to Jory, driving the dagger deep into the man's body as blood splattered all over the both of them.

"I am sorry," Duncan managed to utter, before letting Jory's body collapse, "but the Joining is not yet complete."

Beside him, Bethany clutched her brother's arm and gasped. Garrett remained silent as Duncan withdrew his dagger and placed it on the table, before picking the cup up again and turning to them.

"You were called upon to submit yourself to the taint," he continued, handing the cup over to Logan, "for the greater good."

Logan hesitated a little as he looked into the red, murky substance. A part of him didn't want to end up like Daveth, and another didn't want to end up like Jory. Had he finally reached his end? He gritted his teeth and held his breath as he brought the cup to his lips and felt the disgusting liquid enter his mouth and had a sudden urge to puke everything back out, but forcefully swallowed it down.

A white, hot pain erupted at the corner of his head as he felt Duncan taking the cup away from him and moving on to Garrett and Bethany. No, he thought helplessly, not them… no! Despite his silent protest, Logan could not move as the pain began to paralyze him. He cried out in pain as a vision of a fearsome High Dragon plagued his mind, and he watched as it turned towards him as though it was actually able to see him. The dragon roared, causing him to shiver with fear as he felt himself fall to his knees and hear the echoes of the cries that undoubtedly came from Garrett and Bethany.

No… he thought again, trying to fight the pain away, they can't die. They can't…

"From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden." The words echoed in his mind as the vision died out and faded into an uncertain darkness as he felt himself slip. The last thought he had was a silent prayer to the Maker—a prayer that Garrett and Bethany did not die just as he was dying.

It was an end he didn't want to meet, but something told him that he wasn't strong enough.