Author's Note: I managed to hammer out Chapter 3 faster that usual! I hope you enjoy it. As always, reviews, constructive criticism, suggestions and comments are loved and appreciated! Thank you to my reviewers for taking the time to let me know their thoughts and thank you to my beta for beta-ing this so quickly!

Nagirrom: I'm glad you think the dialogue works, I was slightly worried about the Alistair and Jory parts.

Sati James: I have the pairings almost worked out in my brain, but I'll consider your suggestions =)

Dragon age: Origins, it's characters and a large chunk of dialogue near the end is the property of Biowear, I make no claims to any of it, I'm just having fun.

Part :1 Ostagar

Chapter 3: Sweet Bloody Succor

The way back was much shorter than the way going, even with Ishafel stopping to remove the mud that was now caked on her armor and stomach. While watching her clean it off in a small, mud-less, stream Daveth had an epiphany.

"Hey, your armor..."

"Yes, what about it?" she replied distractedly, scrubbing her stomach as hard as she was able. The Wilds mud did not seem to want to let go of her skin.

"It's open at the stomach."

Ishafel knew that, seeing she was scrubbing her stomach clean at the moment.

"Yes, it makes it light, easy to travel in."

"Well, you don't think that the darkspawn will take advantage of that little opening? Stick one of their smelly little swords right through you?"

Ishafel bristled, "They haven't been able to do so yet. My middle seems bereft of any holes."

"He doesn't mean any offense." Alistair pointed out. He was leaning on a tree next to the stream bank.

"It's a valid point. Dalish armor might be good for tracking animals and fending of foes in small numbers, but it's not going to help you when you face a horde in battle. Best to not become a pincushion. We've found some coin here and there, you should see the quartermaster when we get back. There are some fairly light armors that cover the stomach."

"Besides," Jory added, his back turned to Ishafel even though she was still dressed in her armor. "Showing so much skin is indecent."

Grumbling to herself, She turned her back on all of them, wondering why they all seemed to be focused on her stomach anyway.

And then she nearly passed out. Her vision swam and rippled like the water beneath her.

She cursed, there had been so much to do; when was the last time Dylan healed her? This morning?

Stammering forward, she slipped on a rock. She braced herself for the water, but it never came.

Dylan was standing knee deep in the water, holding her up. His hand lay on the flat of her stomach. The feather touch of healing magic tickled her belly button and the world was less watery than a moment before. Her body was rubber, her arms and legs limp at her side. The roar of blood in her ears prevented her from hearing Dylan's admonishment, but she did feel the mouth of his flask as he forced her to drink that horrible herbal remedy.

Dylan breathed a sigh of relief as Ishafel suddenly convulsed as if she was coming up for air after a long swim. A moment later she was back on her feet as if nothing had happened, spitting and swearing that he was trying to kill her with his potions. But for all the sharp words, there was a sincere thank you in her eyes. There wasn't much time left for her, he realized, if they did not cure her soon.

He didn't know much about darkspawn taint. They had been so rare before now that the circle had never taught them anything of it. Duncan spoke to him of the various remedies people had used before him. But he did not know how it worked, what organs it effected first, how it progressed and the like. He was sure there was a book in the circle library, but a fat lot of good it did him when he was standing a a swamp. He knew for certain that she should be on her deathbed right now, but the Maker moved in mysterious ways.

The last rays of twilight were disappearing as they returned to camp. Ishafel grabbed onto his arm as they were walking through the gate and did not let go. He was tempted to carry her to Duncan, but she would probably stick one of those wicked blades clean through his skull before she let him do anything like that. If Ishafel had one thing, it was pride. He was not without understanding though. He wouldn't want any of the assembled company to think him weak either. She stopped him at a spiked fence. A man was muttering to himself about darkspawn blood and treatments. This, he gathered, must be the kennel master. He looked up at the sound of their shuffling feet.

"Ah, back from the wilds, eh?"

Ishafel nodded, "Are these the flowers you were talking about?" She pulled the rumpled red and white blooms from her belt.

"Perfect! Exactly what I needed!"

Her face lit up and Dylan had to fight back a smile. So she was fond of animals as well as children; Not that there was much difference he shrugged inwardly to himself.

"I'll start his treatment right away! He needs a new master, you know. Come back after the battle, and will see about imprinting him to you!"

"Imprinting?" Dylan asked

"Mabari usually only choose one master; to whom they are unswervingly loyal to. When an owner dies, there's a chance that the mabari will follow him to the grave." He reached down and rubbed the recovering creature behind the ears. "This fellow has too much fire in him to simply roll over and wait for death though, and he probably understands you're responsible for his recovery. They are about as smart as your average tax collector."

Ishafel leaned over the fence and said something softly in elvish. The Mabari turned towards her voice, whining softly. The whining increased as Dylan led Ishafel away.

Dylan's feet welcomed Duncan's bonfire, despite gathering warm air round himself and Ishafel to dry them off, they were still damp and a real fire was welcome.

"I've had the circle mages preparing" Duncan informed them when they arrived. "With the blood you've retrieved, we can begin the joining immediately.

"Maybe we should tell you about Morrigan and her mother..." Dylan began, Alistair took over.

"There was a woman at the tower and her mother had the scrolls. They were both very..."

"Odd." Dylan finished for him.

Duncan paused, considering.

"Were they wilder folk?"

"I don't think so" Ishafel added. "They seemed to be apostates, hiding from your chantry."

It was the wrong thing to say, Ishafel thought as she saw Duncan's eyes shoot over to Alistair.

"I know you were once a templar, Alistair." He said firmly, "But chantry business is not ours. We have the scrolls; let us focus on the joining.

Dylan made up his mind to speak to him again after the joining. Something told him that Morrigan and her mother should not be ignored.

"Now will you tell us what this ritual is about?" Ishafel asked impatiently.

Duncan looked grave as he answered, a deep furrow creasing his forehead.

"I will not lie; we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now rather than later.

"You are saying this ritual can kill us?" Jory asked, flabbergasted.

Ishafel wondered why he seemed so surprised. He had sent them to fight darkspawn for the creators' sake, that could have easily killed them. Personally, she had figured it out long ago. Whatever it was that had the power to take away that burning in her bones had to have the power to kill her or it simply wouldn't be strong enough.

Dylan just sighed to himself inwardly. It was the harrowing all over again. Knowing his luck they were probably going to make him drink something awful. And he had just got that horrible lyrium taste out of his mouth.

Duncan turned to Jory.

"As much as any darkspawn you might face in battle. You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you had a chance of surviving."

"Let's go then" Daveth said bravely, "I'm anxious to see this joining now."

"I agree," Jory said, there was only a slight waver in his voice. "Let's have it done."

Duncan nodded.

"Alistair, take then to the old temple." he instructed. Duncan headed towards the mages' compound.

Jory paced nervously around the small wooden table that was set in the middle of the temple as they waited, his heavy footfalls echoing off the stone. The tension crackled in the air. This was it. The deep breath before the plunge.

"The more I hear about this joining the less I like it." He decreed suddenly.

Daveth rolled his eyes "Are you blubbering again?"

"Why all these damned tests? Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition." Dylan shrugged

"Maybe there just trying to annoy you" Daveth tacked on, earning him a furious glare.

Ishafel had quite enough of that. "I swear, I'm the bravest one here and I'm a woman." She muttered to herself.

"Hey!" Dylan shouted, insulted.

Daveth and Jory didn't pay any attention, they were too busy squaring off against each other.

"I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me... it just doesn't seem fair" Jory ended indignantly.

Ishafel sighed to herself. A tingle in her bones was heralding another attack of illness, she did not need this right now.

"Would you have come if they warned you?" Dylan asked softly, surprising her,

Jory's mouth hung open and Daveth sprung at the opening

"Maybe that's why they don't. The wardens do what they must."

"Including sacrificing us?" Jory managed to get out.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the blight." Daveth shot back.

"You make a good point." Ishafel conceded tiredly, leaning on the stone of Ostagar to keep her upright. What was taking Duncan so long?

"You saw those Darkspawn, ser knight." Alistair said, his voice held the same soft understanding as Dylan. "Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty wife from them?"

"Maybe you'll die, Maybe we'll all die. If nobody stops the darkspawn we'll die for sure." Ishafel told him.

Jory, outnumbered, finally ceased his complaining and Duncan arrived. A large goblet in his hands.

"At last, We come to the joining," Duncan said proudly. "We speak only a few words prior to the joining, but these words have been said since the first, Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair bowed his head, his usually jaunty voice somber.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

Duncan held out the goblet to Daveth.

"Daveth, from this day forward, you are a Grey Warden."

Daveth's hands did not tremble, his will did not waver, not even when he saw the darkspawn and lyrium mixed blood before him. He drank steadily. It happened very quickly. Hands were at his throat, clawing as though he was on fire, eyes went whiter than moonstone. He managed to catch himself on all fours before his face contorted in terror. His body went rigid and then collapsed completely. He was dead.

A mix between a gasp and a sob bubbled out of Ishafel, her hands clapped over her mouth.

It was one thing to know that death was possible, it was quite another to see it; and it had not been a clean death, she was sure. Nobody died with a look like that on their face when the death was clean.

Duncan seemed only to be disappointed. "I am sorry, Daveth." He said to the corpse, before turning to Jory. The knight was backing away from Duncan as though he himself were darkspawn.

"No, I can't! Y-you ask to much!" He unsheathed his greatsword.

"Jory!" Dylan began, attempting to talk the man down. Before anyone could do anything, Duncan drew a dagger and plunged it into his stomach. Blood spurted out on to the stone as Jory fell forward, eyes wide and unseeing in death. The corpse fell over Duncan like an embrace.

"I am sorry, Jory." He whispered in the man's ear. It was Duncan's fervent wish that he heard the apology before he died. He placed the body onto the stone and once again picked up the goblet that had been put to rest so Duncan could kill a man. Ishafel and Dylan both stood in horror. Neither one moved to take the goblet and for the moment Duncan didn't offer it.

"You must understand;" Duncan said firmly, "you have been called upon. As you were when I met you, you both would have been dead sooner rather than later. With this I offer you a chance to do some good before death claims you, as it does all of us."

It was the burning under her skin, and not Duncan's impassioned speech that brought Ishafel out of shock. That's right, she thought to herself, I'm dying. I'll be dead soon. She looked at the goblet, and held out her hands. Not yet, she thought, Not yet.

Duncan's face sagged in clear relief. "Ishafel Mahariel" He said her full name to her for the first time, a reminder of all she had been in her life up to now "From this day forth, you are a Grey Warden."

She held the goblet for a moment, smooth marble against her skin. Her lips grazed the rim, she tilted back her head ever so slightly and drank.

Dylan watched horrified as she writhed on the ground before him, eyes peeled back head slamming into the dirt. A piercing howl rose in the air. The sharp notes seem to make the convulsions worse; then it all stopped abruptly. The lines on her face melted away. She was at peace, the hard struggle of illness had left her features.

She is dead, Dylan thought.

Ishafel opened her eyes and stared up from the ground at the three of them like she had awoken from a nightmare.

Duncan wore a satisfied smile as he helped her up.

"Congratulations, Ishafel."

There was only one gulp left of the draught.

"Dylan Amell-" Duncan began, Dylan didn't let him finish. He snatched the goblet from Duncan and drank deeply, slamming the goblet down on the table beside him as though he were in a drinking game. The darkspawn blood raced down Dylan's throat, collapsing the airway as it went, he could barely breathe. He was on his knees before he realized he fell. He heard a shout that he thought was Ishafel but it was swallowed up by a roar. The stone of Ostagar fell away to reveal a curtain of green luminescence Darkspawn were everywhere and above them stood the creature that he had seen at the tower, no longer wreathed in shadow.

The Archdemon was a gruesome sight. A dragon who wore it's innards on the outside. It fixed him with one wild white eye and roared. The roaring transformed in into singing, beautiful, glorious sounds that terrified him. He was there only a second more before he was falling, falling...

His eyes snapped open to see Ishafel above him. Her dark eyes wide with fright, which morphed into concern when she realized he was alive.

"Dylan! Are you alright?" She asked, shaking.

"No, but I'll live." he replied, and she helped him up from ground.

"Sorry," Dylan said to Duncan, "I just couldn't stand the tension any longer."

Duncan nodded in understanding.

"It is over." He said quietly, "Welcome"

The bodies of Daveth and Jory were nowhere in sight, Dylan noticed, he must have been out for longer than he realized.

"Two more deaths." Alistair shuddered "In my joining, only one of us died, but it was...horrible. I'm glad two of you made it through at least."

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked, he held Ishafel up by her elbow

"Nothing you said could have ever prepared me for that."

"Such is what it takes to be a Grey Warden."

"There is one last thing we do." Alistair held out two pendants to them.

"What is it?" Ishafel asked, holding up the blood red stone to the moonlight.

"We take a little of the blood we use in the joining and seal it in these pendants to remind of of those who did not make it and that one day we will join them. It is called the Warden's Oath."

Dylan slid his around his neck, the stone curiously slid directly over his heart, as if the darkspawn blood desired to run through veins. Ishafel tied hers to her belt. It took a moment longer than usual. Her hands still shook.

"When you are ready. I'd like you both to accompany me to a meeting held by the king. Why he asked for you specifically,"He said to Ishafel, "I am unsure. I doubt he will turn you away, Dylan. Take your time. It is not scheduled for a while yet.

The tense party broke up and Dylan disappeared almost immediately to vomit again; and he thought the lyrium aftertaste was bad! It would probably take two whole weeks for the taste of blood, ash and lyrium to leave his throat. He stayed out of sight for the moment, sagging against a pillar. Perhaps it was wrong of him to seek solitude when he had been so close to death not a minute ago, but he couldn't stand to be near another living being at the moment. Wherever that had been it was not the fade. He didn't know why he expected it to be the same. A place where he could trick or bargain himself away from danger. When he had looked into the face of the archdemon, he had known then. He was going to die. For the first time really understood what that meant. He would have given himself a moment more, but Ishafel's raised voice drew him away.

"Listen, you bloody knife ear! I told you, I don't sell to your kind!" The quartermaster snarled

"No, you listen, you creator cursed shem," she shouted back, she had been through far too much tonight to handle stupid ignorance.

Ishafel did not realize that she had a dagger in her hand until Dylan's hand was on hers, forcing her to lower it.

"If by 'her kind' you mean Grey Wardens," he said coldly, "Then Duncan will be hearing of this."

The man broke out in a cold sweat. "N-no! I did not realize, ser... What do you need, miss?"

Ishafel sheathed the dar'misu. "Armor. Light and easy to move in, but not open at the stomach."

"Give her some leather armor, Harold," A voice interrupted. "I'll check the lacing, so don't give her anything shoddy."

Harold the quartermaster jumped to do as he was told. They both looked behind them to see the female solider that Dylan have rescued from Daveth earlier in the day. She gave them both a cheery smile that they couldn't return.

"Nice to see you both back, safe and sound. Where is your friend?" She inquired.

"Daveth..." Ishafel began.

the woman's face fell. "I..see."

Harold returned with the armor. The solider, who introduced herself as Myria helped Ishafel get it on properly.

"This is a good set. Look" she bent the laces. "Make sure that these stay supple, otherwise your armor may fall off during battle. We wouldn't want, that would we?" Ishafel would have been affronted

She waved goodbye to them.

"Daveth wanted me to look into new armor." She explained before Dylan asked, "I felt I had to honor his last wish, even if he was a shem."

"You didn't have to explain," he said quietly as they walked up the stone ramp towards the king's table.

"I understand."

They were late. Ishafel realized it when she heard the shouting. The king and a man who could only be Teyrn Loghain seemed to be arguing with each other. Duncan motioned them discreetly to come and stand beside him.

"Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault." Cailan's eyes flickered to the movement on his left. Ishafel did not look at him, but a trained hunter knew when eyes were on her. A moment later Cailan's voice rang out, delighted.

"And these are the recruits I met on earlier on the road? I understand congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, your majesty" They said together. Dylan's voice was slightly louder than hers, Ishafel noted. Perhaps he noticed that King Cailan was focusing most of his words on her.

"Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks."

There was a huffing to the king's right and Ishafel let her gaze wander. The man beside the king, Teyrn Loghain, had a look of disgust on his face aimed at her that so palpable she almost wanted to take a step back.

"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality."

Cailan was annoyed, but allowed him to explain the plan to the gathered party.

"So the beacon is the key," Cailan said to himself considering.

"It is an easy task, your majesty." The mage Nathan, the very one Alistair had been needling, said grandly, "You can rely on the mages to-"

"We will trust nothing to your foul magics!" The Reverend mother cut him off, practically lunging at him the way a terrier might snap at a fox.

"Well, If this is so important, than we should entrust the task to our best! Send Alistair and the new Grey Wardens to light the beacon." the king said satisfied.

Loghain looked ready to have an aneurysm. "You rely on these Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise? Cailan shrugged him off, instead giving orders to all to prepare for battle. There was a foul breath on the wind, Ishafel realized belatedly, and it smelled of darkspawn. She wasn't the only one who noticed. Anxiety seemed to settle over the camp like a tangible entity. Soldiers faces aged as they finished preparing their blades. Archers became lithe and quick in the instant they tightened their bowstrings.

The walk back to the bonfire was silent. The lines in Duncan's face seemed to deepen as he thought. Finally, when they reached their destination, he spoke almost as if he were wondering why they were still there.

"You heard the plan. You three will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit."

"We won't be in the battle?" Dylan asked, and immediately felt like a coward for being relieved.

"What!" Alistair balked, "You're actually going to let that order stand. The king is not the commander of the Grey Wardens!"

"But I am," Duncan reminded him, " This is by the king's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge."

"So he needs three Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?" Alistair remarked bitterly.

"It's a waste of resources, Duncan." Ishafel pointed out, "The king surely has scouts or runners for this sort of thing. We should be in the battle!"

"This is not your choice," He bellowed sternly, "If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure that the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there. We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn... exciting or no.

"I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the King ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no." Alistair muttered.

Dylan let out an irreverent snort.

"You have some very odd ideas about your king." Ishafel replied, confused

"I happen to be quiet fetching in a dress"

Dylan snorted again. Duncan sighed.

"The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp, the way we came when we arrived. From the top you should be able to see the entire valley."

"Sounds easy enough." Dylan replied, "But what if the archdemon appears?"

"We soil our drawers, that's what" Alistair responded

Duncan sighed at him once more.

"If it does, leave it to us. I want know heroics from any of you."

"Can we join in the battle afterwards?" Ishafel asked. Hadn't Duncan promised her revenge?

"Stay with the Teyrn's men and guard the tower. If you are needed, we will send word."

A horn sounded in the distance.

"I must join the others. From here you three are on your own. Remember you are Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

"Duncan... may the maker watch over you." Alistair said quietly

"May he watch over us all."

The sounds of the horns and the baying of the Mabari clashed with dark howls and pounding of earth under foot. This was unlike any of the hunts Ishafel had been on. This was war, and it was loud. They moved quickly. The shouting of orders mingled in the air as they crossed the long stone bridge they cam in on. Ishafel turned her head to the side for a moment, and saw the horde. The valley was lit up. Evil twinkles promising fire and ruin flared out from the sea of darkspawn below.

"Look out!"

A rock smashed into the bridge throwing Ishafel back and Dylan forward. The bridge shook but held, and the sky took this moment to open up and pour hard sheets of rain upon them.

"Hurry! Alistair shouted.

At least the tower would be dry, even if there task was an uneventful one. They reached the ramp as a wounded solider stumbled down it.

"You..." His eyes were open wide with pain and fear. "You're the Grey Wardens, aren't you? The tower...it's been taken!