The Hall Reborn

Chapter 79

"These should be very useful against the darkspawn," Niall called out over one shoulder as he hauled to the center table several long swords, all silverite, embedded with runes that were especially effective against the tainted creatures.

Smiling over at the mage, Adela continued her own inventory of the weaponry and armor that had been stashed at the Grey Warden depository. While she, Niall and Zevran gathered equipment there, Roland, the Sten and Oghren were busy searching through the armory at the Warden compound at the palace. While the groups did not hold out much hope for anything of value having been left at the compound, Adela still wanted them to look.

She was certain that the darkspawn horde would be making its move upon Denerim soon.

"Stop worrying so," a soft, heavily accented voice whispered in her ear, causing the young elf to jump, startled, from her revelry. A frown turned the corners of her mouth as she turned to glare at Zevran, who stood unapologetically mere inches from the younger elf.

"If I don't worry, who will?" she asked, annoyed that she had had to compromise with so many to get them to believe that the horde would be moving soon toward the capital.

"Your allies believe and trust you," Niall reminded her as he pulled a bow rack free from once cluttered corner. "They have never doubted your word."

"And despite having to compromise with that foolish warden," Zevran's generous mouth turned down in disgust, "Teyrns Loghain and Fergus have enough trust and faith to put their own contingents on alert." The elven assassin tilted his blond head. "Surprisingly, the Chantry has also called its Templars to the field."

"The mages have arrived and are now being housed within the Chantry. And," here Niall paused slightly, face screwed up in thought before continuing, "Alistair is mustering the Crown's knights and soldiers as we speak."

Both men exchanged glances as the elven girl nodded numbly at that last, biting at her lower lip. "Stop that," Zevran complained, running his thumb along her lip.

Taking a breath, forcing the brief moment of self-pity that threatened to overtake her yet again, the elven warden nodded, lifting her head to show her friends that, while not completely fine she would be alright, she turned back to the task at hand.

Three heads rose from their task as the doorway to the vault emitted light as it opened, admitting the robed form of Anders. The mage gave the three a small smile before turning to Adela.

"Your favorite senior warden has been looking for you two," he announced, stepping forward to poke at silverite staff that lay upon within one tall rack. Raising his soft brown eyes, he took note of the look of displeasure that passed between the elven warden's companions.

With a sigh, Adela set down one rune encrusted bow, and then nodded at Niall and Zevran.

"Come on, Niall," she said as she turned toward the entrance, "let's go see what Riordan has to say."

"This time," Anders muttered as the pair passed by him, giving the elf a bright grin as her eyes fixed upon him. With a shrug, he asked, "What?" chuckling as she merely shook her head as she passed by and through the doorway.

A frown settling upon his face, the mage turned toward the elven assassin, who stood staring at the doorway. "I really don't like that guy," the mage said clearly.

The elf's honey gold eyes turned to him, and Zevran gave a nod. "Neither do I, my friend." A frown formed on his face as he turned back to stare at the doorway the pair had vanished through. "Nothing good ever comes from that man's mouth."

DA:O

Roland stood, leaning against the wall, arms crossed to his chest, as he softly glared at the man before him. Alistair fidgeted slightly under the other man's scrutiny, but managed to meet that glare with one of his own. The door to the room opened, emitting Adela and Niall, and the pair ceased their glaring of one another, eyes softening as they turned their attention to the pair that entered.

"Good," Riordan's heavily accented voice interrupted. "You are all here."

Adela was visibly surprised to see Alistair standing mere feet from Roland, and a quick glance told her Niall was surprised as well. As the pair turned their attention to Riordan, the senior warden explained.

"I am presuming that Duncan never explained to you why Grey Wardens alone can defeat an Archdemon?" he asked, his face neutral, voice soft yet carrying well within the room.

Alistair frowned, dredging through his still muddled mind to dig through every conversation he and Duncan had had during his time with the Wardens. He shook his head, stating, "I don't recall any conversation like that."

Riordan's face now sported a frown. Raising a long fingered, calloused hand to rub at his brow, Riordan shook his head. "If ever Duncan had a weakness, it was for his recruits." With a heavy sigh, he brought his hand down, lifting his head to gaze at the four junior wardens in his company.

Alistair and Adela both bristled at the senior warden's words, seemingly criticizing Duncan. Riordan seemed to not to have noticed, and continued, ""Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now."

"The Joining binds us to the darkspawn. You know this. If you were to forswear your oath and flee today, you'd find yourself in the Deep Roads or the Blight-lands, given time." He paused, frowning as though lost in thought. "The joining serves more purpose than simply allowing us to sense the darkspawn or prevent us from becoming Blight Ghouls."

"There's something about the taint itself that allows us to fight them more effectively," Roland interjected.

Riordan nodded at the young knight. "Indeed, Warden Roland. However, the Wardens always seek out those with great potential and skill, as the taint that runs through our blood merely enhances already existing ability. But, there is more…a far more important purpose to the joining than any of these."

"I hope you plan on telling us this, Riordan," there was an impatient tone in Alistair's voice, urging the man to explain more.

"Truly," here, Riordan's voice betrayed how tired he was, "I wish Duncan had explained this to you."

There was a pause, the four younger wardens easily sensing the elder's reluctance. "Should the Archdemon be slain by one who does not carry the taint within his blood, its soul will break free of its physical body, seeking out another that carries the taint. The darkspawn are soulless creatures, full of nothing but the taint. The soul of the fallen Archdemon will seek out and occupy the nearest tainted being, reshaping it into a monstrous dragon form, once again powerful, all but immortal. However," he turned dark, concerned eyes to the others, watching as realization slowly dawned in each pair of eyes. "Should the Archdemon be slain by a Grey Warden…"

"That Grey Warden would be the nearest tainted create to it upon its death…" Niall muttered, face paling as his eyes widened.

Nodding, Riordan continued. "Indeed. The Archdemon's soul will seek out the body of the Grey Warden. However, as a Grey Warden is not a soulless beast, the two souls will battle one another for dominance within the Grey Warden's body…"

"And ultimately destroy one another," Niall finished, unable to look at his friends as he spoke the words.

Riordan, however, turned and met each pair of eyes, focused upon each pale face as he nodded at the mage's words. "Indeed. Both will die. It is the only way to stop the Archdemon, and hence the Blight."

"So, someone has to die," Adela spoke, her voice shaky but clear. "That Warden's soul…"

"Is destroyed," Riordan clarified for her.

There was silence, broken only by Alistair's quiet voice.

"The Chantry says, 'The Maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, as no sacrifice is greater than theirs'," Alistair quoted, eyes glazing with memory.

"Then I shall make the sacrifice," Roland said from where he now stood straight by the wall, green eyes determined as he glared challengingly at the senior warden.

"Your courage is appreciated," Riordan acknowledged the younger man's declaration, "however, as the eldest, I should be the one to make the blow. I am closer to my Calling, and would appreciate the knowledge that you young wardens will live to fight another battle." Here he turned to Adela, the frown upon his face deeper.

"Adela, you should make certain that, should you strike the final blow, that you are accompanied by a Warden who still carries the taint."

As Adela nodded, Alistair's face registered surprise at the elder's comment. He turned toward Niall. "What does he mean by that?" he asked.

Sighing, Riordan was the one to answer. "The taint within Adela's veins does not run as deep as it does within the rest of us. Somehow," he spared a glance toward the elf, who was staring at him, avoiding looking at the young king across from her. "she managed to cure herself of much – if not all – of that taint from the Joining."

"How…?" Alistair began, only to be cut short by Riordan.

"We do not know at this time. Perhaps, sometime in the future, it would be worthwhile to explore it." He looked back at the elven warden, eyes thoughtful. "For now, we must take the precaution that Adela be accompanied at all times by a Warden."

A frown upon her face to match that of Riordan's Adela merely nodded to indicate her willingness for this compromise.

Satisfied, Riordan nodded, turning his attention to everyone in the room. "For now, we must rest as we can, and organize our forces. With the armies you all have gathered, I am confident we can face the horde of darkspawn that threatens us yet."

The others glanced at one another, and then slowly vacated the room. Alistair lingered briefly, stealing a look at his former wife. Yet, Adela refused to look at him, her attention focused solely upon the senior warden. With a soft sigh and nod of his head, the young king left the room.

Watching at Alistair closed the door, Riordan asked, "Is there something else, Adela?"

Adela was quiet for a moment, her face thoughtful and pained. "Is there truly no other way?" Her voice was soft, concerned as she asked the question, raising her blue eyes to search the elder's face. "Does a Warden really need to sacrifice not only his life but his soul?"

Face softening slightly, the elder stepped forward, placing strong hands upon the elf's narrow shoulders. "I am afraid so. During the centuries since our Order's founding, there has been only one way to defeat a Blight."

"It just seems…" she floundered here, concern for her friends overwhelming her.

"It is," here he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Which is one reason I should be the one to make the sacrifice."

"Your soul is destroyed as well," she pointed out.

Smiling softly, he said, "I appreciate your concern, especially given how often I have questioned you over these few weeks. However, I have had over twenty years to live with this knowledge. I have made my peace with it."

"Then you are a braver soul than I," she replied, offering her own smile as she brought a slender hand to the one resting upon her right shoulder, "I would falter knowing how much more I would need to sacrifice."

Chuckling softly, Riordan removed his hands, carefully taking Adela's into his own. "I doubt that hstrongly, Adela. You have shown remarkable skill, bravery and resolve."

Shaking her head, the elf stepped back, "Everyone keeps wanting to give me all the credit. I couldn't do anything without my friends and companions, as well as so many others I've met on the way."

With those words, the elf turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind her. With a frown, Riordan stared at the door for a moment, before turning to pace to where his desk stood. Staring down at the partially written letter, he pulled the chair back and settled upon it as he picked up the nearby quill and worked on completing the correspondence.

DA:O

Adela slowly opened the door to her room, turning toward it as she closed it. Resting her forehead against the cool wood, so lost in her thoughts, that she had not noticed the woman standing by the fireplace, facing toward her until she spoke.

"Adela," came Morrigan's soft voice, pulling the younger woman from her misery momentarily as she turned to face her friend.

"Ah, sorry, Morrigan," Adela quietly apologized as she pushed herself from the door and approached her friend. "Just…"

Nodding, Morrigan stepped closer, meeting her friend in the center of the room, her lovely face pulled in with concern. "I know." She said simply, causing confusion to mar Adela smooth brow.

"I know," Morrigan repeated, "I know what is required in order for a Grey Warden to defeat an Archdemon."

Adela opened her mouth to speak, but Morrigan raised a quieting hand, continuing. "I also know of a way for no one to have to die."

"We can't run from this, Morrigan," Adela pointed out tiredly, certain her friend was going to try and convince her to run.

Smiling softly, the witch shook her dark head. "I would never suggest such a thing to you, Adela, or," her smile turned into a smirk, "any of our other foolishly brave friends."

"Then how…?

"I know a ritual, one which must be performed before the final battle with the Archdemon."

Eyes lightening up with hope, Adela stepped forward, hands gripping tightly to Morrigan's upper arms. "What ritual? Why don't the Grey Wardens know of it?"

"It is old magic," Morrigan replied, "and a rite taught to me by my mother."

The hope radiating upon Adela's face softened and all but disappeared as she stepped away from the human. "You mean blood magic?"

"Not blood magic," Morrigan hissed, "Not all old magic is blood magic, Adela. You should know that!"

"Then…"

"The Wardens do not know of it as it is a ritual known only to my mother, and now," she tilted her dark head, that self-assured smirk still in place, "only by me."

"More reason not to trust it, Morrigan!" Adela retorted.

A pained look crossed Morrigan's face briefly. "I thought I had your trust," she questioned, yellow eyes narrowing as she glared at her friend.

Sighing, pushing a hand through her hair, Adela nodded. "I do trust you, Morrigan, but," she lifted her face to stare directly into Morrigan's eyes. "I do not trust anything that comes from your mother! How can you believe that whatever she taught you regarding this would not end up causing more harm?"

Several heartbeat moments passed, each woman glaring at the other. The fire in the fireplace crackled and spit into the silence before Morrigan broke it.

"Let me first tell you of the rite before you make your decision."

Staring at her friend, Adela gave a nod, watching as Morrigan crossed the room to settle upon the foot of the elf's bed. Adela turned, watching as her friend settled herself. Crossing her arms before her chest, the elf quirked one blonde eyebrow. "So, what is this ritual?"

"Convince Niall or Roland to lie with me, tonight. From that joining, a child will be created. One born with the taint of its sire. Then, make certain I am present when the Archdemon is slain…"

"And the Archdemon's soul…what? Goes into the unborn child and destroys it?" Adela gritted out, disgust clearly in her voice as she spat out the words.

"No, of course not," Morrigan had risen from the bed, and now stood directly before the angered elf, somehow tamping down her own impatience. "The soul of the Archdemon will…revert to its original state. That of an Old God. The taint within the unborn child will…dispel the taint corrupting the Old God, and resurrect it back to its original form."

Dumbfounded, Adela stood, staring, at this woman she had traveled with for over a year. Shaking her head, she stepped back, concern, anger and fear warring for its place upon her face. "Morrigan….you….you can't do that!"

"I will not stand by and let you die when I have the means to prevent it!" Morrigan raged back, the volume of her voice rising.

Brow furrowing, Adela said, "I won't be the one to die…"

But, Morrigan scoffed loudly. "Riordan is a fool! There yet remains enough of the taint within your blood that you could effectively destroy the Archdemon – and hence, yourself – should you be the one to deliver the final blow!"

"How do you know?" Adela demanded. "Riordan can sense it…"

Quietly, Morrigan reached up, pulling one of the many tokens from around her neck free. This one, a plain, dark crystal, with its center roiling like clouds of dark smoke, was brought closer to the elf. As the witch brought it nearer, the center darkened – albeit very slightly - and tiny tendrils of darkness erupted from the crystal. It quickly subsided as Morrigan brought it back to its place around her neck, her face not betraying the lie she had just perpetrated upon her distraught friend.

"You still can't know that the ritual will work, or that no harm would come of it!" Adela shook her head, turning away. She then stopped, her mind working on the problem. Even if she had no concern for herself, one of the other Wardens would die in destroying the Archdemon. She knew, from the beginning, that she or any of her companions could die. It was the destruction of their soul that worried her the most. To have them simply end, without any chance of reaching the Maker's side…

Morrigan remained quiet and still, watching as her friend struggled with the new information – with a way to not have a friend die or be completely destroyed.

Taking a breath, Morrigan took a step closer, keeping her voice soft as she spoke. "And, even had I only concern for you, my dearest of friends, what of the others?" Adela turned devastated eyes to her friend, and this time Morrigan did feel a pang of guilt in using the elf's fears against her. However, she needed her to agree…"Think of Niall, or how Zevran will feel should his lover perish," Adela winced at that, and Morrigan continued, still quiet and assuring as she spoke. "Could you forgive yourself, knowing that Roland would die, his soul destroyed, and his faith in the Maker never realized at the end? What of Alistair…"

"Enough!" Adela breathed out, her throat tight as those thoughts worked their way through her mind. Closing her eyes tightly, she shook her head. "I cannot let you do this, Morrigan! It is wrong!" She opened her eyes, fixing them upon the lovely, hopeful features before her. "This is one of Flemeth's plans. How do you know that she won't benefit from this?"

A dark brow rose. "You forget, my friend, Flemeth is deceased…"

"And you forget you even admitted you were uncertain if she was truly dead!" Adela shot back without hesitation, shaking her head. "No. I will not ask nor order any of the others to do this. It is wrong. We don't know what Flemeth had planned; we don't know what will happen to the child," she paused, breathing hard, her slight body shaking with tension, fear and despair. "We don't know what will happen to you!"

Morrigan had opened her mouth to rebut, but quickly snapped it closed at the elf's final words. Closing her strange eyes, Morrigan stood, stock still, letting her friend's concern for her wash over and through her. Another thought came to her, and she allowed another moment. Slowing, nodding her head, she opened her eyes.

"Very well, Adela," her voice was soft with emotion as she spoke. "I shall not ask that you do this."

"Thank you," Adela nodded, raising a shaking hand to settle upon the witch's shoulder. "Thank you, Morrigan."

Staring at the smaller woman, Morrigan gave in to the urge and pulled the elf to her for a brief hug, taking note of how terribly the younger woman was shaking. "I apologize for causing you most distress, Adela," Morrigan said as Adela pulled away, rubbing her hands over chilled arms. "You should get some rest. Who knows what the morrow will bring?"

Nodding, Adela did not reply, but simply turned and began removing her leather armor. Fingers caught in her hair as she pulled the armor from her, barely acknowledging as Morrigan left the room, her mind nearly blank.

The only thing currently whispering in her mind that Morrigan had confirmed that enough of the taint yet remained within her.

Raising her head, staring sightlessly at her unoccupied bed, Adela resolved that she would be the one to slay the Archdemon.

It was the only way to assure her friends would not meet the ultimate destruction of themselves.