A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews and thank you for enduring these chapters. I'll speed it up; hopefully not in a way that ruins the entire story. R&R please!
Chapter V: Beginning of the Blight
Logan cracked open his eyes and found Duncan and Alistair hovering over him, concern written all over their faces. He had almost expected himself to die a few minutes ago, but here he was, lying on the cold, hard ground and very much alive. He sat up drowsily, his head still aching from the trauma and possibly from him collapsing after the vivid image of a High Dragon. Rubbing his temple, Logan looked around wearily, panic already rising in him.
"Where's Garrett?" he breathed, looking up at Alistair and Duncan, "Where's Bethany? Tell me!" He immediately tried getting to his feet—although it was hard for him to do so after being considerably weakened by the Joining—but was held in place by Duncan, who had more strength than Logan had previously thought.
The Warden patted Logan on the shoulder, and said, "Your cousins are fine. They passed out as well, but awoke earlier so I told them to wait for us with the king. How are you feeling?"
Instant relief washed over the newly initiated Grey Warden as he relaxed and slumped back against the wall, trying to recall the vision—or whatever the Wardens called it, if it was a common occurrence—he had after drinking the darkspawn blood. "I'm fine," Logan admitted, "But nothing you said prepared me for that, Duncan."
Duncan smiled for a brief moment before gesturing to Alistair, who then quickly took out a locket and handed it gingerly to Logan. "This is the Warden's Oath, something we give to every Grey Warden after they have successfully survived the Joining," Duncan explained, as Logan hung it loosely around his neck and tucked it beneath his clothing. "It will remind you of your duty to Ferelden and to Thedas as a Grey Warden."
Logan let out a heavy sigh. "Survived," he repeated wistfully, staring off into the distance as he remembered how Daveth and Jory died, "I never expected…"
"Daveth died bravely," Duncan said, "Although I cannot say the same of Ser Jory."
"He was innocent," Logan argued, shaking his head at the recollection of Jory being stabbed, "Even if he didn't want to comply with the ritual or anything… he didn't deserve to die like that."
Duncan seemed slightly disturbed by the younger Warden's words as he walked over to where he had stabbed Jory, his eyes seeming distant—unseeing, as though he was once again deep in thought. "I am sorry," he said, sighing, "But I could not risk Jory telling anyone else the secrets of the Grey Wardens."
"Don't you feel terrible about that?" Logan asked, his blue eyes full of accusation, "He has a family waiting for him in Highever."
"When he came with us, he knew what he had to leave behind," Alistair cut in, clearly disliking the tension between Duncan and Logan, "although he may have regretted it at the last moment, but no one could see that coming. I would have done the same in Duncan's position, and you would have had to do that too if you were."
Logan looked away, visibly dissatisfied with Alistair's answer. "Never mind," he muttered, "It's over now. He's dead, isn't he?"
"What if he had died from the Joining instead?" Duncan asked calmly, "Would you have felt the same way?"
"Maybe," Logan answered indignantly, knowing that if the Joining were to kill someone, it could not be prevented at all, "All I know is that his wife and child will be short of one less husband and one less father."
"It is the way of the Warden," Duncan sighed, "I didn't want to kill him, either. He forced my hand."
"I know," Logan muttered, shaking his head, "Let's just move on."
Wordlessly, Duncan led them to where Cailan and Loghain, along with Garrett and Bethany, were discussing the strategy for the upcoming battle that very night. They passed through many worn out pillars, and it made Logan wonder what Ostagar had looked like before it was reduced to such ruins.
He casted a passing glance at Duncan, who looked considerably troubled. A pang of guilt hit Logan as he realized how much his words had probably affected the senior Warden, and that Duncan had probably never wanted to kill Jory either, and looked away. He wanted to apologize, but the situation was growing much more tense and awkward as they approached the table.
Cailan was already deep in conversation with Teryn Loghain, with a few other figures joining in at the appropriate times. Logan was so busy trying to listen in from afar that he didn't realize Garrett and Bethany were already running toward him from a distance. The older Hawke tackled him and hugged him tightly, almost crushing Logan, and was soon followed by Bethany who put her arms around him as well.
"You're safe," Bethany said tearfully, "We were so worried, Logan."
"I knew you were stronger than that," Garrett added, "You looked too dead back there, you know that? Don't you ever scare us like that ever again!" He punched Logan lightly on the arm, grinning from ear to ear.
"I didn't think I'd make it," Logan admitted sheepishly, scratching his head, "I was more worried about the two of you. Maker's breath, you two…"
They hugged again, but the moment was cut short by Duncan, who cleared his throat loudly. The three mages let go of each other, and realized that the entire group of people, including King Cailan, were staring at them almost incredulously—save for the leader of Ferelden.
"Another Grey Warden," Cailan said happily, circling the table and walking towards Logan with an outstretched hand, "Congratulations, Logan Amell."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Logan said, slightly in awe of Cailan's presence. "But I'm not that special, you know."
"Every Grey Warden is precious in this time of need," Cailan said, waving his hand about and dismissing Logan's modesty, "You are important, yes? Now come, we are just about finished with our preparations."
"Your fascination with the Grey Wardens is unnecessary, Cailan," Loghain growled, obviously annoyed at the interruption, "It also makes you come across as a deluded fanatic." Almost immediately, Logan didn't like the teryn. The man seemed to have a problem with the Grey Wardens, as though they weren't needed at all in this battle, and he looked at Duncan almost disapprovingly as Cailan brushed him off and welcomed Duncan to their gathering. If he has a problem, he should just spit it out…
As Logan listened intently to their discussion, he suddenly realized that he had probably gotten into something of a long term commitment to the Wardens. He wondered if they would still be able to return home to Aunt Leandra and Carver, now that they were caught up in a growing Blight in Ostagar. If they failed, then the Blight would take Logan, Garrett and Bethany even further away from where they had originally intended to go. His heart constricted at the thought of never seeing the last of his family again, of Garrett and Bethany being separated from their mother and little brother until after the Blight.
And what if the Blight took away the lives' of their only family?
He shuddered inwardly at the thought, and stopped himself from letting his mind wander too much—he had already forgotten what Loghain had been droning on about a few minutes before.
"…and then the Wardens will signal the rest of my men to assist you in battle," Loghain finally finished, looking rather satisfied with his battle plan. Cailan looked pleased as well, his lips stretching into a grin as he patted Loghain on the shoulder encouragingly.
"That is a marvelous battle plan, Loghain," Cailan said, circling the stone table and walked up to Duncan, "And who better than to light the fire in the Tower of Ishal than one of Duncan's Grey Wardens?" He beamed at the taller man with a sort of hopefulness in his eyes, as Duncan chuckled.
"Of course, Your Majesty," Duncan said reverently, "The Wardens are at your disposal."
"Excellent!" Cailan exclaimed, "We shall prepare the army now. Duncan, I'll leave you to brief your Wardens, yes?" With that, Cailan strode off with the remaining allies, leaving only Alistair, Logan, Garrett and Bethany with Duncan.
They gathered around the campfire again, as Logan felt his shivers stop once he approached the warm flame. "Duncan, have you decided who's going to the Tower of Ishal?" asked Alistair, already reading his equipment.
Duncan nodded. "I will be sending you and the three Wardens," Duncan replied, "Mages always need a melee combatant by their side, lest they are flanked."
"All of us?" Alistair asked, his tone laced with much surprise, "What about you? Won't you need anyone to back you up on the battlefield?"
The senior Warden almost smiled despite the seriousness of the issue. "I'll be fine, Alistair," Duncan reassured him, "I will be fighting alongside Cailan and his army. I never thought you'd underestimate me so much." His tone was almost teasing, and it lightened the mood considerably. Logan smiled a little. Despite the incoming danger and despite the worsening situation with the darkspawn, there was still something to smile about, or joke about. It encouraged him as he watched Alistair break into a small smile too, and he knew that nothing would ever be that terrible if people still knew how to feel hopeful and at ease.
"Fine, if you put it that way," Alistair gave in, smirking, "But if you ask me to do anything else, I'll probably have to draw the line. I'm coming down to the battlefield after Loghain's army charges. Even if you ask me to put on a golden dress and dance the Remigold when I get there, I will."
Garrett snorted. "Some imagination you have," he teased, unable to suppress a grin.
Alistair chuckled nervously as Bethany giggled as well. "Well, I do look rather fetching in a dress, you know," he said sheepishly, turning red as he caught Bethany's eye again. Duncan groaned.
Logan hid his face in his hands, shaking with laughter, as the mental image of Alistair in a golden dress was conjured in his mind. Garrett punched Alistair jokingly in the chest, saying something about 'holding you to your promise'. He had never felt so light-hearted before, and it was scaring him as much as it was comforting him. The mood gradually became more comfortable, as Duncan finally managed a genuine smile after so long.
"Well, you can wear all the dresses you want after we're done with this," Duncan said, beaming, "But now, duty comes first."
Alistair suppressed his smile. "Of course," he said, his voice cracking a little from laughing too raucously, and inclined his head. "The Tower of Ishal, right?"
Duncan nodded. "Hurry," he told Alistair, and the three behind him, "We don't have much time. You need to be in position before I can give you the signal to light the fire."
"Alright," Alistair said, and turned to the mages, "You ready for this?"
"Yeah," Logan answered, on behalf of the group. In truth, he was not, and he knew neither were Garrett or Bethany. From being taken away from a death sentence, they had been flung into the middle of an incoming Blight that threatened the safety of Ferelden and—if it progressed enough—the safety of the entirety of Thedas. He felt like an even heavier load had just dropped onto his tired shoulders, and felt his insides twist and turn in nervousness as he looked at Alistair.
"Don't worry," Alistair reassured him, "I feel the same way."
"You've been a Warden longer than any of us here have," Garrett pointed out, "I think if anyone is to run away squealing, you should be the last. Right?"
Alistair laughed nervously, tugging at his chainmail gloves. "If you say so," he said, swallowing hard.
"It'll be fine," Bethany chimed in, her optimism almost contagious. "We're Grey Wardens now, and we have each other's backs. We'll get through this together." Alistair grinned at Bethany, his admiration for her increasing by the minute. When he caught Logan staring, he quickly looked away and went back to being subtle about his growing adoration for the young mage.
Logan stretched for a bit when he spotted Duncan's retreating figure in the darkness. "Wait," he said, sprinting towards Duncan. "Wait!"
The older Warden turned back, mildly caught off guard. "I thought you were—"
"I'm sorry." Logan was relieved that it was already dark. Duncan could not possibly see his embarrassed expression in the night, and he wanted to keep it that way. Duncan remained silent, something that didn't seem to bode well for Logan.
"Sorry?" Duncan repeated, after what seemed like an eternity.
Logan began to feel more awkward as he scratched his head, feeling the stares of Alistair, Garrett and Bethany boring into his back. "I'm sorry about what I said the other time," he continued, kicking the dirt in a distracted manner, "I… know you didn't want to let Jory die that way. I know and I'm… sorry for blaming you."
He heard heavy footsteps that were moving towards him, and suddenly, Duncan's hands rested upon his shoulders. It almost felt like Duncan was placing his hope in Logan, although the mage felt that it should be Alistair in his shoes right now, and it almost felt like a goodbye.
"I never needed an apology," Duncan said, "because I know how you felt. I was there, when my Warden-Commander killed a man at my Joining. I didn't speak to him for days after yelling at him the moment I awoke. That is why I've never demanded an apology from you, Logan. When I look at you, I see so much of the younger me in you and it gives me a sense of hope, despite the Blight. If anything were to happen to me, I know you can take my place."
"But Alistair—"
"Alistair may be older than you, but he is still learning how to be a leader. You are a natural born leader, one I know I can place my trust in to end this Blight," Duncan said, his grip on Logan's shoulders tightening. "If I do not return alive from this battle—"
"You will," Logan interjected, not liking the way this conversation was sounding, "You underestimate yourself this time, Duncan. You're just as bad as Alistair."
Duncan laughed. "So it seems," he admitted, "But we must go our separate ways for now. You have a duty, and so do I. Maker be with you, Logan Amell."
"I—Maker be with you, too," Logan said. "Wait for us."
Even in the darkness, Logan knew that Duncan was smiling.
The tower was cold.
It was cold and empty, save for the dead, mangled corpses that littered the hallways and the corridors. Logan had never seen a more horrific sight, though he knew that there would definitely be more to come the more they ascended the tower, and felt his insides lurch. Alistair looked a little green by the time they made it to the second floor, and it was a surprise he could still hold his sword and hack down the alarming number of darkspawn in the structure.
"This isn't right," Alistair breathed as he stopped in his tracks, panting heavily, "The tower wasn't supposed to be filled with darkspawn—how did they even get ahead from the rest of the horde anyway?"
Logan glanced sideways at Alistair and saw the same look in the Warden's eyes that mirrored his own. Fear. Logan wasn't superstitious, but he always figured that once something starts out the wrong way, it would most likely end on a bad note as well. He didn't want to have to come to that conclusion, but his instinct was telling him otherwise. His grip on his staff tightened as he swallowed and let out a deep breath, readying himself for what was to come.
"We can't waste time like this," Logan said, stepping forward and ascending the stairs, "Kill first, ask questions later."
Alistair looked up at the mage with a newfound admiration in his eyes. "You're right," Alistair smiled faintly, "Let's get to the top."
They continued their ascent, dispatching numerous groups of darkspawn at a time. Logan had never in his life felt so drained of his power as they finally reached the top floor, and inwardly blamed the Circle—the harshest, most draining thing Logan had ever done in his time there was the Harrowing, and even that didn't feel half as tiring as what the Wardens were set to do.
He barely had time to regain his energy as he pushed open the door and a giant fist planted itself inches away from his feet. Logan jumped backwards and felt Alistair rush past him, taking point of the battle against a mighty ogre. Logan stood in awe of the fearsome creature for a split second before realizing that they had to back Alistair up, and beckoned to Garrett and Bethany who were both equally as shocked as he was.
"Come on," he yelled, "We need to help him!" They ran into the room and quickly cast defensive spells on Alistair, improving his reflexes and strength.
"You know, I could get used to this!" exclaimed Alistair, dodging the ogre's heavy swings and kicks.
"Shut up and fight!" Garrett roared, as the mages dodged the debris that was flying at them.
Logan concentrated on injuring the beast, and flung blazing fireballs at the ogre until he managed to blind the monster. He quickly mustered his remaining energy and trapped the ogre in a crushing prison—from there, Alistair took the lead again and used the chance to decapitate the ogre, earning an unnecessarily huge shower of blood raining upon all four of them, much to Garrett's dislike.
"Don't you do that ever again!" hollered Garrett, wiping the blood off his face while glaring at Alistair.
"Are you alright?" Bethany asked, rushing forward as Alistair walked towards them with a grin on his face, "Do you need any healing?"
Alistair was momentarily stunned when she touched him, but his startled expression disappeared almost immediately. "I'm fine," he reassured Bethany, smiling, "I may have wanted to vomit a little up close, but I'm good."
Logan crossed the chamber over to a dusty old fireplace, a fire already igniting in the palm of his hand. "Do it," Alistair told him, "We've surely missed the signal."
Wordlessly, Logan flung the small fireball at the charcoal, and then intensified it with an even larger flame. Soon, the tower lit up and Logan stopped, his mind resting at ease. It was then that he learned about the importance of staying vigil, as a band of darkspawn scouts appeared out of nowhere and began firing arrows at the four of them.
They had come out so quickly that Alistair did not have time to shield himself from the arrows, and fell to the ground unconscious as one of them managed to hit him square in the chest. Bethany screamed and Garrett stepped forward to shield his sister from the attacks, but was too slow for the darkspawn. Logan witnessed them being shot down by the genlocks, and felt a fury rush through him as he began hurling fireballs at them before they could even reach the bodies of Alistair, Garrett and Bethany.
His onslaught was short-lived, however, as a hurlock ambushed him from behind and smashed its gauntleted fist into the back of his head. He immediately descended into darkness, but not before feeling the painful impact as his body met the concrete ground with a deafening thud that rang in his ears until he heard no more.