Chapter Text
I would rather die a meaningful death than to live a meaningless life. – Corazon Aquino
Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. – Virginia Woolf
Once close enough to the King’s camp, Morrigan slipped back into the trees and disappeared before anyone could thank her. Passing the gates as night fell, heading to the bonfire the group was stopped by another soldier.
“Wardens, while you were travelling the wilds, did you find any white flowers? With red centres?” he asked, his hands shook and his eyes darted to each of them. “My hounds might not survive the night without them, the Darkspawn Taint might take them before dawn.” Gwen remembered those flowers, the one she gave to Morrigan’s mother…and the others in her pack. Stepping forward, she offered the flower to the soldier.
“Are these what you’re looking for?” she asked, handing over the pressed flowers. “Sorry if they’re a little…squashed.”
“Oh my lady thank you!” he beamed, even moving in for a hug. “These will be perfect, please this way.” Guiding her away from the group, Jocelyn moved with her as the others returned to Duncan. The soldier, which she realised was the Kennel Master, approached the pen. Three hounds were ill, lying on the ground while another, sick as well be seemed stronger, stood over them. “Give me a moment and I’ll make this into an ointment.” The Kennel Master moved away from them, leaving them to watch the hounds. Gwen had never seen a dog this large, except maybe in photos. It was like a cross between a Staffordshire bull terrier, Bullmastiff and a Rottweiler the size of a St. Bernard. Once the Kennel Master returned, he tried to give the dogs the ointment but jumped back as the Mabari still standing growled, protecting his comrade. “My Lady, might I ask for assistance?” Jocelyn had thought he had asked for her help but watched surprised as Gwen moved in. She accepted the muzzle the Kennel Master offered but stood back and watched as she moved to the agitated hound.
“Shh~ it’s okay,” Gwen cooed, placing the muzzle down and offered her hands. The hound growled and stood wary of her. “See, I’m not going to hurt you~” Pulling out one last flower, holding it to the hound. “This will help you, but the Kennel Master needs to help your friends too.” Inching closer, letting the hound sniff the flower, it turned to her was a strange intelligent look. Taking a sniff of the flower, Gwen took the flower away and traded the ointment for it. Offering the ointment, the dog sniffed the concoction and somehow made the connection. Placid and calm now, Gwen stood and petted his head and ears, holding him still to work on the muzzle. The Mabari was strong, he wriggled under her grip but with a stiff tug, the Mabari stopped as Gwen finished securing the muzzle.
Moving aside, the Kennel Master moved to his dog to help them. Jocelyn watched as Gwen moved out of the pen, watching the soldier tend to his hounds.
“He’ll remember that,” Gwen turned to Jocelyn, confused by what she meant. She followed her gaze, coming onto a similar hound sitting with Duncan. Its keen eyes watching Jocelyn…like any hound would to his mistress. “Mabari are intelligent hounds, and have long memories. He will remember you helping him.”
“Wow,” Gwen turned back to the hound before leaving with Jocelyn. The muzzled Mabari watched her, panting with a happy smile as she left. Maybe Jocelyn was right. The dog did seem like it knew more than she gave it credit for.
“Courage? How much danger are we in?” Gwen turned to Daveth’s concerned voice. Duncan had welcomed the others back, retrieving the scrolls from Alistair. The circle mages had prepared the Darkspawn blood they collecting for their Joining, but something about needing courage for it billowed concern in her too.
“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.” Gwen didn’t like the ominous drawl in his voice. Duncan’s warning brought new fear in her, causing her to move toward Jocelyn, Cameron and Baldor. Unlike the others, Gwen found herself drawn to the trio. Baldor was funny and cheeky, he made her feel like she could move mountains the way he leapt into battle, yet had that protective air; like no matter what he would be there. Jocelyn, though harsh and a little cold, showed her concern and care with her protective and authorities words and actions. She was hard to make you strong, and she steeled herself so you wouldn’t get hurt. She was also coy and sly, weaving her words to entice and trick as well as catch. And Cameron, his calm and warm presence made her feel safe. Even in the wilds while fighting wolves and Darkspawn, being near him took the edge off her fear.
“Are you saying this ritual…can kill us?” Jocelyn asked, her voice lost its authorities edge, lost it cold and ice for something Gwen could only think of was fear.
“As could any Darkspawn you might face in battle. You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you had a chance to survive.” Duncan, his eyes cast forward, lead the group away from the watchful eyes of the camp guards. Farther they went into the camp until they reached a small ruined temple, overlooking the lower camp. The hard stone change from the soft dirt seemed to make this choice heavier than it was. Making this ritual more dire than it was.
Duncan left to fetch the prepared blood and something called a Joining Chalice from the mages, leaving the group to talk amongst themselves. Gwen tuned out most of the talks; Jory was complaining again about being a Knight of Redcliffe and finding all of this ridiculous while Daveth just egged him on. Alistair tried to calm the pair while Jocelyn made sharp quips to the quarrelling men. Baldor just watched in amusement, finding the bickering of humans amusing.
“Are you alright?” Gwen looked up, finding Cameron come and sit with her, his feet dangling off the edge of the ruin as she was. She didn’t answer, but welcomed his presence.
“A little nervous, I guess.” Gwen looked out over the camp and wondered, all the time she had spent here and yet she had no answer as to how she got here or how she was going to get home…if she could go home. “Cameron…are we going to die?” Cameron turned to her but she didn’t look back. She really didn’t want an answer, she wanted to live. But she couldn’t pull out now, she was never one to back away from responsibility, besides she would have the protection of the wardens to fall on if what they saw about mages was true.
“Perhaps, but there is no certainty,” Cameron answered, but something she hadn’t seen him do happened. His thin hand and arm came to rest on her shoulders. “But you are a strong shemlen, I believe you will live.”
“You too,” Cameron looked down, confused by her comment. “You’re too nice to die like this.”
Before Cameron could reply, Duncan returned to begin.
“At last we come to the Joining.” Walking past, Duncan stood before a small alter, placing the goblet upon it. His gaze turned reverend, his voice low and sombre, like uttering a prayer or eulogy. “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 dragon of Darkspawn blood and mastered their taint.”
“We’re…going to drink the blood of those…those creatures?” Ser Jory’s face turned white, fear cracked in his voice as he appeared to fall back, whether in surprise or shock was unknown, all Gwen could see was his cowardice finally coming through.
“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory.” Duncan stood beside Alistair, his own face mirroring his senior Warden. He knew all along what the joining entailed, and ignored the indignant glare Jory was boring into him. Daveth had looked ready to be sick while Baldor stood firm. Jocelyn had paled for a moment but found new resolve, standing with Baldor. Cameron turned to see Gwen’s fear, see her hands shaking and her tattoos glow. In a moment of kindness, he slipped his hand into hers, catching her attention. It was a small squeeze and a strange gesture for a Dalish elf to offer a Human, but she smiled all the same and thanked his kindness.
“Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the Darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdemon,” Alistair added, stepping forward as to say his part.
“Wait, those who survive?” Baldor asked, eyeing the chalice with deep suspicion.
“Not all who drink the blood will survive and those who do are forever changed. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay,” Duncan answered, worsening the wits of the others. “We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first,” turning to Alistair, Duncan gave a small nod as the junior warden bowed his head.
“Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.” As he spoke, all with heads bowed, Jory turned to the chalice. His eyes alright with fright and fear, as he along with the others were about to drink a poisoned brew. All for the sake of living or dying to end the Blight. “And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you.”
“Daveth, step forward.” Duncan handed the chalice over to the thief, holding it like glass as the first took a sip. It was slow at first, coughing on the thick black bile. Then Daveth cringed, doubling over as his scream ripped through his throat. Eyes white, no pupils or iris left in them as he choked and gagged. As if some force held his throat as he thrashed and spluttered.
“Maker’s Breath!” Jory shouted, watching as they others did as Daveth twitched one last time before lying dead. Gwen held onto Cameron tighter, his own grip holding her as Baldor and Jocelyn watched in shock.
“I am sorry, Daveth,” Duncan closed his eyes, showing the remorse and guilt a murder showed to a victim, watching as life left the tainted corpse. “Step forward Jory.”
“But…I have a wife. A Child! Had I known…” Jory drew his blade, stepping back from Duncan. Eyeing the chalice as if it were a weapon; for him it was.
“There is no turning back.” Duncan’s tone was dead, stern and hard on the retreating knight.
“No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!” Sward held to his heart, the truth of the knight comes through. But as Duncan drew his own blade, placing the chalice upon the alter again, Jocelyn moved to Gwen. Before she could see Duncan’s blade pierce Jory, Jocelyn hid her eyes but her ears could hear blade meeting flesh, blood gushing to a steady drip as Jory fell to the ground. She had killed Darkspawn, but the sight of one man killing another. That was different.
“I am sorry…but the Joining is not yet complete.” Duncan placed his dagger aside to reclaim the chalice, moving to Gwen.
Jocelyn stepped forward, blocking Duncan. Instead of moving around her, he offered the chalice. Without regard, Jocelyn took the chalice and gulped down her share.
“You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.” Duncan’s words were the last she heard before she followed the others. “From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden.” Jocelyn clutched her forehead, Gwen’s shout lost to her in the mist and haze of a beast’s roar. Her eyes white, like Daveth’s but she never gagged nor choked. Instead, Jocelyn collapsed. Out for a few minutes, Jocelyn opened her eyes again, normal and alive. Standing, she shifted to right herself, leaning on Alistair for support.
“Guinevere, step…” Duncan moved to Gwen again, only to find Baldor taking her place.
“Let her go last, let her live as long as possible.” Baldor said no more, taking the offered Chalice. Much like Jocelyn, the dwarf clutched his head and revealed his white eyes. Though his unconscious state lasted longer than Jocelyn, he too awoke and got to his feet. “That…felt like my brother Trian’s eighteenth birthday…only I didn’t wake up in a pile of bottles and three noble hunters…” his swaying comment had lost meaning to the others, but Duncan turned to the last two initiates.
“I will go,” Cameron let Gwen go, accepting the chalice. Gwen held her breath for the third time, praying and hoping Cameron would live as the others did. His eyes turned white as the others did, but his small cough caused her panic before he collapsed. As the seconds passed, Gwen felt tears rise in fear before Cameron opened his eyes. He survived, they all did…and now it was time for her test.
“Guinevere, step forward.” Gwen stood alone, she turned to the others. Seeing them with her, stand close by, she tried to calm her nerves. Hands shaking, she grasped the chalice and stared at the blood within.
“You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.” Swallowing to cover her dry throat, Gwen closed her eyes and prepared herself for the horrid taste awaiting her. Her reaction was instant; as the blood disappeared down her throat her body contracted and spasm. Duncan caught the chalice fallen from her hand, Baldor caught her before she could hit the ground. Her eyes were white just as the others were but her gagged and choked breaths indicated otherwise. Her body was hot to the touch, sweat rolling down her forehead as she shook from an unknown chill.
“Maker’s breath,” Jocelyn spotted another abnormality. Gwen’s once azure markings grew bright as they faded to an angry red. “What is going on?” Duncan was at a loss for words, this had never happened before. But Gwen was an abnormality, he had never thought the markings would be effected. Why were her tattoos reacting? And why were they turning red? Her body grew still, her markings now turned bright red and her breath stilled. Cameron held his breath, Jocelyn dared not move while Baldor growled. Why had she to be the one to perish? Compared to the others, she was no doubt the youngest and most inexperienced.
Gwen tried to move, but every inch inflamed her tattoos and her breathing snapped new ripples of pain through her. It hurt to move, it hurt to breath. Every action taken caused pain. Then the song came. It was haunting and repetitive, running over and over in her head. The more she heard, the more it stuck to her. She tried to drown it out, tried to focus on something else to forget but it pushed harder and harder.
We are here
We have waited
Then the voices; hundreds, maybe thousands at once speaking, whispering, screaming through her mind. They mixed with the song, enchanting and enhancing the haunting melody.
We have slept
We are sundered
She had to drown it out, the more she listened the weaker she became. Whatever was running through her was growing hot, burning to the point she believed she would blister and burst.
We are crippled
We are polluted
Stop! Please! Make it stop! Her mind screamed, she begged and no one seemed to listen.
“I can make it go away~” A new voice appeared, a new warmth brushed against her. Managing to open one eye, Gwen couldn’t scream. Before her was a bare woman, her flesh a soft violet wrapped in silk and gold. But atop of her head; two long curled horns, a dark aura whipping around the sharp appendages, a long barbed tail slinking and twisting on her raised behind. But it was her eyes; black pools surrounding gold orbs. “I could make all your pain disappear~ Command the taint to increase your strength and power~” Her claw-tipped fingers danced and traced over her markings, turning the sting to a singing relief.
We endure
We wait
“I could make you forget everything that has happened, even your past~” Her mind was weakening, the song grew stronger the longer the woman spoke, the whispers dying out to strength the shouts. “Make you forget your loneliness, your pain~” Her hands reached Gwen’s cheeks, cupping them with tender touches. “I will never leave you, you will never know abandonment or fear~ Only the blessings I shower on you~”
We have found the dreams again
We will awaken
“NO!!”
A burst of white light erupted around her, the demoness pulled away as she recovered from the light’s force. Opening her black ink eyes, they widened at the sight before her. Her quarry now rendered still, as if in a dreamless slumber. Cradled and held as a child to a mother. A spirit she could tell by the pure white glow she exuded purged the ground around her, chasing off and cleansing the darkness.
“Ha, a spirit of Purity. Why would such a dying breed even be here?” the demoness cackled, her eyes planted on Gwen. “Begone with you. The girl is mine~”
“No! I won’t let you hurt her!” the white spirit snapped, her aura growing. “This human, she has shown me kindness. Given me what I have longed for. The purity of her heart…I won’t let you or anything else corrupt it!!” Pulling Gwen up, she held her more than a mother would hold her child. As if…she were holding a lover.
“Spirits like you are a riot!” the demoness jeered, calling her so called bluff. “You are no doubt the last of Purity for their world. Unite with this human and you become a demon, one I will gladly drive out of my dear Dreamer~”
“No…I will stay pure…because I have no desires anymore. She gave it to me…she gave me a name…” her eyes alight with tears, turning the demoness from a coy player to a vengeful, fearful wreak. The pure spirit leaned close, her forehead resting on Gwen as the realm dissolved into light. Panicked and fretting her demise, the demon fled as the song and the voices shrieked and died out.
“I’m her…Prue.”
Gwen suddenly lurched forward, a shriek stopping mid breath as she gagged. Leaning forward, she tried to regain her breath, as if a pressure was released from her throat. Watching as she cough and hacked for breath, the red staining her tattoos seemed to recede and return to their original bright blue.
“Gwen, are you okay?” Baldor rubbed her back while Jocelyn watched over. Cameron returned with a water skin, offering it to the ill girl. Gwen took it with thanks, washing out the vile taste in her mouth.
“I…think so…” she coughed, spitting out more bits of bile. “I…what happened?”
“You survived that’s what!” Baldor bellowed.
“But your…tattoos changed colour…and you took longer to come back,” Jocelyn turned to Alistair and Duncan. “Has this happened before?”
“Some gag as they drink, but I’ve never heard of someone throwing convulses like that,” Alistair answered, turning to Duncan with the same question. The Senior Warden just stared, unsure of his own answer.
“Perhaps the Lyrium is the cause of this,” Cameron suggestion, taking the answer from Duncan. “Lyrium is a rather mysterious and unpredictable element, perhaps it was affected by the taint.”
“There…was something else…” Gwen managed to say without coughing. “There was…a woman, with horns…she was trying to…”
“Sounds like a demon,” Jocelyn turned wary, the idea of a demon taking advantage of Gwen’s weakened state. Could she be possessed now?
“I…could hear a strange song too…and weird voices…but I can’t remember what it was about…or the whispers…but there was a bright light, it felt like someone was…holding me, pushing me back up.” Gwen tried to rack her brain for answers but it was as if the entire exchange was just a dream. “It’s like trying to remember a dream you’ve already forgotten.”
“Safe to say you repelled the demon then. Never heard of that happening either,” Alistair nodded, smiling at there being one silver lining to all this. Four had survived the joining, that was a good sign. To end the Joining, each were given a pendant with the remaining blood; a reminder of those who didn’t survive and of the commitment they now give. But Gwen didn’t feel right. Looking to the others, there seemed to be a change in them that she didn’t have. The Joining changed them, yet she remained unchanged.
Regardless of her feelings, Gwen affixed the necklace around her neck while the others were given Grey Warden armours. Hers looked much lighter than Jocelyn and Baldor’s since they were both classified as warriors; the thin strong steel and leather fitted perfect, hugging close and didn’t chaff. While the others headed to the King and his meeting, Gwen slipped to the Quartermaster in the hopes of bartering for a better set of weapons. Since her own were battered and damaged from their excursion into the wilds, no doubt given a poor set to begin with, she managed to convince the Quartermaster to pass a fair price on an ornate set of daggers and a bow in a matching set. The daggers were light, making her swipes and swings fast and strong, the bow was just as light with a tight, taut string. She managed to snag a pair of leather gloves too, slicing off the pinkie and ring fingers on both hands. Now she felt set to fight.
“Gwen,” looking up from testing her new bow, securing a quiver to her back, Jocelyn approached. She seemed to approve the new weapons, nodding and urging the young girl back toward the bonfire. Duncan could be seen discussing plans with the others, something the Alistair seemed to disagree with.
“What? I won’t be in the battle?” Alistair was surprised, perhaps shocked. Gwen wondered why, he along with the others were given a pivotal role in the battle to come. The only reason she was to remain was to bolster the mages. Something she would gladly trade to escape a battlefield.
“This is by the King’s personal request, Alistair,” Duncan explained. “If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.”
“So he needs four Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch, just in case?” Alistair argued. “And to send a woman, one who is still in-training, right into the battlefield?” Gwen shrunk from the group, even she was surprised by the arrangement.
“I agree with the pretty boy. We should be in the battle too,” Baldor growled, slapping the handle of his axe.
“That is not your choice,” Duncan replied, his tone even and calm. “If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there.”
“But…what about me?” Gwen stepped forward, all eyes turning on her. “Duncan I…wouldn’t I be better helping with the beacon, rather than fighting with the others? You said so yourself, I’m no Warden.”
“Gwen, I understand your concern but we must. The King has been informed of your…abilities, he wishes to see them for himself, and hopes they will aid our side in the battle,” approached by the man, he placed an armoured hand upon her shoulder. “Know that I protested greatly, but the King refused to change his mind.” Nodding, Gwen still didn’t want to fight in a large battle. Too many things could happen. “We must do whatever it takes to destroy the Darkspawn…exciting or no.” After another quip from Alistair, and giggles shared, Duncan sent off the small team while ushering Gwen to the Mages. Cameron, however, managed to convince Duncan to allow him to remain by Gwen. Duncan, despite protests from the others, agreed.
As the army mustered; Soldiers and warhounds to the front lines, archers and mages to the rear, sisters of the faith prayed and moved about the lines, spreading incense and singing to encourage and protect. Gwen remained close with the Mages, her own bow lined with an arrow while Templars and soldiers eyed them. Wynne, who stood close by, offered her a small smile. One she returned. And hoped it would be enough.
Rain pelted on armour and leather, echoed by the growing chorus of footfalls. A horde approached through the trees of the wilds, all different shapes but all with the same knarred mauls, sick black flesh and soulless grey eyes. Flanked were jackal like creatures, their shrieks echoing while massive ogres flanked. The enemy was most unnerving. Many soldiers tried to pull back, unseen in the hopes of fleeing. But comrades pushed them back, standing their ground. From the highest point, King Cailan and Duncan watched, and waited for the right moment to engage.
A flash of lighting streaked the sky, and the Darkspawn charged. A flurry of roars, teeth and blades glinted as the mass spread like a plague.
“ARCHERS!” Cailan’s command echoed across the field, the archers heeding over the pelting rain and thunder. Gwen followed, raising her own bow. On the signal, her arrow flew. Eyes locked, she watched as the single arrow in a mass of hundreds sailed the sky before imbedding itself in a creature. The small victory but at the King’s call, the Mabari were sent in. They showed their gristle and strength, but all too many were cut down by the Darkspawn.
“FOR FERELDAN!!”
Their army charged. Gwen was lost in a sea of soldiers, struggling to keep with Cameron but in the confusion, she found herself lost and away from the mage’s protection. Duncan’s words soon filtered through her mind; if she were ever separated from Wynne, Cameron or the mages, to come and find him. Working through the horde, cutting down genlocks and aiding other soldiers, she managed to find her way to the other side of the field. She tried to push out the screams, she tried to silence the wails, but the death and carnage around her was fuelling her own panic. To escape a blow from a charging Alpha, Gwen quickly phased, allowing the Alpha to pass through her.
A loud roar severed Gwen’s attention, turning back to the field. A large ogre charged the field…and straight for King Cailan and Duncan. Shock drover her forward, her phase broken as she raised her bow. Arrow notched, she drew breath as the arrow tickled her cheek. Target placed, she released the arrow and watched it fly. The ogre howled in pain, clutching its face as the arrow slicing through. Its roar turned Duncan, giving him the opportunity to slay it. Coming to the side of the King, a blazing light caught her attention.
“The signal!” she cried, hope and joy flooding her as blood flooded the ground. That would mean Loghain was coming with his men, this battle could be won.
“Gwen!” Duncan called, pulling her to his side. Standing with Duncan and the King, the horde paused but a moment as the tower flew alight.
“Where is Loghain?!” the King cried, pooling dread where hope one lay. The signal was lit and yet no army came, no aid or help. Duncan returned to the king, pressed and tired. Gwen could see they were waning; Duncan looked ragged and tired while Cailan gripped his chipped sword tight. She was waning too, they were going to die here. Loghain was nowhere to be seen and their men were dying around them.
“Please…someone…anyone…help us.” Tears rolled from her eyes, her end would come at their hands, just as they had almost many times before now. She would become their food or something worse. She would be tainted, left to rot. Soldiers were falling, all of them dying. Without Loghain’s flank, they were helpless to the horde. Fighting all around her, she remained with the weakened king as Duncan. She felt helpless, everything succumbed to the taint, struck down and devoured by the Darkspawn horde. Where soldiers once stood lay corpses, blacked and oozing darkness from wounds and mouths. There was nothing she could do. Nothing.
Then, the worse happened.
Another ogre charged, but instead of charging to the King the ogre slapped the king aside and attacked Duncan. The Grey warden had known the darkspawn brawn charging toward them but his weakened state prevented him from dodging or parry. Snatched up in those giant claws, time seemed to slow to Gwen. Holding the injured king, she watched as Duncan struggled and swang his sword in defence. The ogre ignored his attacks, his free fist raised high, hallowed and aglow from the tower’s signal. Gwen’s heart stopped and her blood froze as the ogre slammed down.
Tears fell.
Her throat hitched.
Her heart drove to a fierce pace.
A pained cry eacaped her lungs as a pillar of light shot from her. Racing to the sky, her eyes turned stark white as she held the down king. Her hurt and pain shrieked in her scream while the wind, aura and light grew around her. Weaker Darkspawn dissolved and disappeared while stronger or larger darkspawn fought to retreat or succumbed and died. The light grew bright and blanketed the field, Darkspawn screeched and men screamed until everything was blinded. The last sound to be heard over the shrieks and shouts, was a great roar.