Chapter 116: *Three Campfires

The Joining that night went about as well as expected. While three mages and three templars had survived until the potion was ready, most of them were ravaged by the taint, barely able to stay upright, skin blackening, hair falling out, fever running rampant through their ruined bodies. Alim and Rolan were the exceptions; the mage looked pale, but otherwise well, and Rolan had black veins visible only under the skin of his hands and arms. Unsurprisingly, they were the only two who survived, and in Rolan’s case, it was a close thing – he convulsed and stopped breathing for a handful of agonising seconds before he seemed to stabilise.

It was interesting, feeling the taint alter in the bodies of the two who survived – overshadowed, of course, by the horror of losing four more recruits, not to mention all of those Aedan and Alistair must have had to put out of their misery earlier. I’d warned Zevran that Aedan would need some extra support later; no matter how necessary, wielding the sword of mercy was still an execution. Aedan would never admit that it bothered him – stubborn ass – but having Zevran prepared to handle the emotional storm could only be a good thing. And I’d be ready for Alistair, whatever he needed.

Anders sighed sadly, eyeing Rolan’s unconscious form; it would be worse, I knew, if he had known what I did about the future, instead of just generally knowing that the man was an ass. Alistair and I shared a lingering glance, both resolved not to allow bigotry to impact our friends who just happened to be mages.

Pyres had been prepared for those who didn’t make it, and we all had a moment of silence – a disgruntled, irritated, depressed silence – as Aedan and Alistair lit them. Alim and Rolan woke within the hour, and after being fed a Warden-sized snack, were ushered to tents to get some much-needed rest.

Cailan had been informed of the Grand Cleric’s disgusting decision to hide tainted mages and templars from the Grey Wardens, and from the thunderous expression on his face, I guessed that when he confronted the old hag, the fight would be epic. I was too tired and too sad, however, to find out, and I dragged Alistair back to our tent immediately after the new surviving Grey Wardens recovered.

My husband had been too quiet since they’d returned from the Chantry’s hidden camp; I hadn’t counted how many people had been tainted, but given only six left to take the Joining, I was guessing Alistair and Aedan both had probably granted merciful deaths to a dozen or more. I knew Alistair wouldn’t want to talk about it with me – he seemed to remain convinced that if I was forced to confront some of the more brutal truths about life in Thedas and the acts he had no choice but to participate in, I’d lose respect for him, or lose the desire to stay in Thedas altogether.

Instead of discussing the details, I helped him take off his dragonbone armour, undressed myself, and pulled him down into our combined bedroll, allowing him to bury his face in my belly while I held him and stroked my fingers through his scruffy hair.

“I love you, you know that, right?”

He shuddered, and I dug my fingers in harder, kneading his scalp. The noise outside slowly settled as the camp went to sleep, and he continued to hold me, pressing his face into my skin. I’d almost have thought he’d fallen asleep except for the periodic spasms that passed through him; finally, after what might have been a half hour, I felt the telling wetness of the tears he’d probably been trying to deny since morning spilling onto my stomach.

He looked up, then, but his expression, instead of the regret or sadness I expected, was furious.

“How dare she? That ... that ... bitch!” He was almost stuttering in his anger.

I nodded. What else could I add? He’s not wrong, and I’d like to say worse things about her.

He lowered his eyes, whispering so softly I could barely hear him. “Being a leader is even worse than I expected.”

I couldn’t deny it; he was right. It was often easier to follow, to let someone else make the hard decisions and live with the consequences. I stroked his cheek with one finger. “What do you need?”

His eyes darkened as we made eye contact again and he saw the truth in mine – whatever he needed, I’d give, and give gladly.

“You,” he replied, his voice a plea that sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine, pooling warmth between my legs.

I nodded, and with one massive push, reversed our positions quickly, pressing his naked form down onto his back as I leaned over him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. He tried to chase me as I pulled away, but I held him down with one hand in the centre of his chest. After all the times he’d held me, distracted me, kept me sane through the Deep Roads and everything with Duncan ... the least I could do was return the favour, and I planned to make it count.

I started sensually; I left him on the bedroll and dug through my things until I found a clean cloth, and my little stone shower head. With a cautious movement, I dampened the cloth with warm water, and then turned to carefully wipe his face with the warm, wet fabric. I slowly removed sweat and dirt as I dragged the cloth down his neck, his bulging, muscular arms, and his lean, sculpted abdomen. He laid quietly, his eyes never leaving me as I worked, and while I blushed periodically as I reached across him, dangling my breasts in his face or brushing against him, I didn’t stop until his entire upper body had been cleansed.

It was his turn to blush as I washed his legs, and then carefully, softly stroked the damp cloth across his growing erection; I lingered there longer than strictly necessary, licking my lips as he swelled in my hand, and I giggled as he let out a frustrated groan.

Tossing the cloth aside, I leaned over him again, kissing him briefly before using my lips, tongue, and hands to trace the path the cloth had followed. I sucked hard over his pulse point, marking him, before soothing the irritated skin with a kiss; he grunted, and I had to push his hands down as he reached for me. I softly drew my hands across the hard planes of his chest, running them through his sparse golden chest hair, scattering kisses across his shoulders, and down his chest until I reached his tiny, pebbled nipples.

He hissed as I laved my flattened tongue across one little bud, then switched and sucked the other gently. His hands fisted in the blankets below him as I continued lavishing attention across his chest, and he growled out my name in a voice so hoarse with lust that I shivered deliciously.

I sat back, reaching up to stroke his cheek, and he nuzzled into my palm. “I’ve got you, love.” I brushed my other thumb softly over a nipple again, and his growl turned into a needy whine. I smirked and leaned down to capture the intoxicating sound with my lips. “I’ll make you forget your own name, never mind all the rest.”

I kissed him again, and then returned to my ministrations across his chest and torso. I started running my hands across his muscular abs as I kissed my way down from his chest, stopping to dip my tongue into the deep indent of his belly button, eliciting a gasp and a whispered prayer. I climbed over one of his legs, encouraging him to move until I knelt between his strong thighs. Avoiding his large, very prominent length, I pressed more kisses down over his hip, running my hands over his legs, until I reached the crease where his hip met his leg, and I sucked at that tender spot briefly, listening to Alistair groan.

When I began softly licking the length of him, providing pleasure but no pressure, he arched up under me, and I looked up at the sweat-slick body of my husband. He was completely gorgeous like that – his entire body tense, flexed muscles standing out in firm relief under his skin, his face red, eyes squeezed tightly shut, his entire body bowed, as he strained towards the relief I wasn’t quite ready to allow him. Seeing him like that affected me, however, and I rubbed my legs together in agitation as a wave of arousal washed over me.

I gave in. Capturing his length between my lips, I swirled my tongue around the purple head and then sucked hard, one hand cupping his sac while the other crept down between my own legs, gathering some of the copious moisture there and going to work immediately, urgently, on my aching clit.

It took only moments for his release, after the thorough build-up I’d given him; I drank him down gladly, listening to his hoarse shout as he came. I hadn’t quite finished myself, however, and with an unfulfilled groan, I sat up, hand still active at my centre, needing more. I assumed he’d be distracted by his own aftermath, but to my surprise, he sat up, his fingers replacing mine in my damp folds, latching his mouth onto my sensitive neck and tweaking a nipple with his other hand. When two thick fingers pressed inside me, his thumb massaging frantically across my pearl, I gasped and shuddered and came in his arms, my hands gripping his hair as I rode out my climax.

We collapsed together onto our bedroll, and I curled up in his arms, pulling the covers over us both. He kissed my temple, and we fell asleep together, sated and smiling.

The next morning, it became obvious the Wardens were going to have a few more challenges than we’d even anticipated. With so many Grey Wardens, as well as the rest of our companions, our group had become large and somewhat unwieldy – and then there were the politics.

At breakfast, Alim and Jowan immediately began acting like feral cats, backs up and hissing at each other. I wasn’t surprised; Alim was the reason Jowan had been threatened with Tranquility, after all – whether justified or not, I still wasn’t sure – but given the large group, we decided two campfires were perhaps a good idea, and we separated the two mages with alacrity. At the same time, Anders and Alim both bristled around Rolan, who refused to call any of the mages by their names, instead calling them ‘Mage’ or ‘Warden’ in mocking tones. Aedan and Alistair both tried to intervene, with little success – proving a ‘tone’ was difficult, after all, and he was careful to do nothing that technically crossed the line, though he was rebuked strongly until he desisted – and the two campfire plan changed to three.

Conrad and Dougal had a falling out over the Dark Ritual and Conrad’s choice to stay in Ferelden, and Oghren and Faren were suddenly not on speaking terms, for no reason I was able to ascertain.

In the end, Loghain and Sten joined Rolan at one campfire, Conrad and Faren joined Anders, Solona, and Jowan at another, and Alim, Dougal, and Oghren sat sullenly at a third. The rest of us – Alistair and I, as well as Aedan, Zevran, Bel, Riordan, Leliana, and Mornwulf – rotated through all three, trying to bridge the gaps and keep everyone calm.

The following day, Nathaniel, Fergus, and a portion of the Ferelden Army were going to be leaving for Highever; Aedan took the opportunity to solve some of the problems we were having.

“I want to send some of the Wardens with Nathaniel. They can help out around Highever, then go with the Arl to Amaranthine and begin preparing for the darkspawn assaults we know will be coming,” Aedan muttered to Alistair and I.

“Good idea. And if we plan it right, maybe fewer problems with those left behind?” I hope.

“Exactly,” Aedan agreed. “I also think we should send a smaller group to Soldier’s Peak – they can work with Avernus, and help out the Drydens with getting everything ready.”

“I’d send Jowan to Soldier’s Peak,” I suggested. “Avernus will work better with a mage, and our other options are less likely to be open to working with an ancient blood mage. Anders and Alim both would probably prefer to kill him.”

“What if we send Conrad with Oghren, Bel, and Rolan to Amaranthine? No conflict there, and Conrad can handle any trouble Rolan tries to make.” Alistair looked at us, briefly surprised when neither of us disagreed with his suggestion. “We obviously need Sten, Loghain, Riordan, Dougal, and the three of us in Denerim, for a while at least.”

“So that leaves Jowan and ... Wulf? For Soldier’s Peak?” Aedan suggested.

“Not Wulf,” I interjected, thinking of Kallian. “Take him to Denerim.”

Aedan gave me a knowing look, but didn’t ask. “What about Faren? He’s pretty practical - pragmatic, even – and doesn’t seem bothered by mages.”

“They’ll need an escort,” Alistair agreed. “I’ll ask Cailan.”

“He promised to provide the Peak with a guard anyway, until I could hire my own people. I’m sure he’ll agree.”

I was right, and it was decided, with Cailan’s approval, to send a group of soldiers with the two Wardens to Soldier’s Peak, but not before he made the group officially swear fealty to me. I was extremely uncomfortable with the entire thing, but he insisted it was the only way to ensure the loyalty of the men I would have directly under my command.

He asked for volunteers, and apparently ended up having to refuse dozens when he picked fifteen soldiers to transfer. Apparently the Wardens’ reputation had earned admirers, and there was no shortage of people willing to work with us. Some of them even offered to join the Wardens, but Aedan declined, saying that he wanted to get the current Wardens settled before he accepted any more, but that he would keep them in mind. There were a few that seemed disappointed, but Aedan’s sincerity was obvious, and I knew that, down the road, he would truly consider those who proved themselves and were still interested.

With the exception of one. Among the group of knights who’d volunteered to go to the Peak was one familiar face that I doubted I’d ever forget, nor would I allow her to go through the Joining. There were few women among the group, and that made Ser Mhairi stand out even more from her peers. When she volunteered to Join the Wardens, I caught Aedan’s eye, and very subtly shook my head ‘no’. I admired Mhairi’s eagerness and desire to serve, but no one would benefit from her death, least of all her. While Avernus may have updated the Joining Potion, I wasn’t ready to trust it and use the poor woman as a guinea pig.

What I did, instead, was accept the fealty of the fifteen knights, including Mhairi, and then promote her to be the leader of the group – the Lieutenant, Alistair whispered in my ear when it became obvious I had no idea what rank to call her. Maybe if she sees advancement in her future outside the Wardens, she won’t be so keen to join and we won’t have to refuse. She seemed surprised at being singled out, but stepped forward confidently and agreed to take command of the small platoon of men assigned to me.

I wondered if some of them would balk at being placed under the command of a woman – either Mhairi or myself – but none of them even blinked. There were a few surprised glances at Mhairi’s sudden promotion, but my guess was that she lacked seniority over some of the people she’d just been put in charge of. I’ll ask Faren to keep an eye on her and see if she’s competent.

I made it clear to the knights that, in my absence, they would follow directions from Faren and Levi Dryden, my seneschal. They were to secure the fortress, aid in repairs and renovations as needed, begin patrols, and mark the route through the maze leading up to the Peak to make it more accessible. Aedan gave Faren a map, which he’d copied from the one he made for himself on their way there the first time.

And then it was time for goodbyes. The two groups leaving – for Highever and for Soldier’s Peak – were planning to march at dawn, so there’d be no time for talk in the morning. Fergus shook hands with Cailan and Alistair, pulled an agitated Aedan in for a tight hug, and with a glance in my direction that I couldn’t interpret, he excused himself to get the Highever troops ready. Cailan bid those leaving good luck. The rest of us went back to the Warden camp and spent the evening talking and laughing together. Faren and Oghren seemed to have called a truce, and the two started a drinking contest that soon had them unconscious together, and for once not only Conrad, but Dougal joined in.

Perhaps there hadn’t been time for complete forgiveness, but the upcoming parting had made everyone rethink their hostilities, it seemed. Rolan, Alim, Sten, and Loghain retired early to their tents. I got the opportunity to hug everyone leaving us, though it wasn’t a terribly sad farewell since I knew we’d be seeing them again before too long.

Finally, everyone settled into tents. I woke early, hearing the packing of the Wardens leaving, and slipped out of the tent I shared with Alistair just in time to see Nathaniel sneak out of Leliana’s tent, face sombre. I hugged Jowan, Conrad, and the dwarves one last time and then slipped into Leli’s tent.

The bard was laying listlessly on her bedroll, naked, though with a blanket covering her; she startled and tried to cover herself better when I entered, but relaxed when I reassured her it was just me.

“You okay?” I asked her, concerned for the hopeless expression on her face.

She attempted to smile at me, but it fell flat. “I will be fine, my friend.” I frowned, and she sighed. “I have an obligation. I cannot stay, any more than he can go.”

“Dorothea?” She nodded. “But, Leli ... she doesn’t own you. The Chantry doesn’t. You need to do what’s right for you, too. In the game, the next one?” She nodded again. “You’re the Left Hand of the Divine. You end up trying to improve the situation in Kirkwall. But Leli ... you didn’t look happy. You were up to your eyeballs in conspiracies and intrigue, but you never smiled. You were involved with a Seeker doing some rather shady things. That isn’t who you have to be!”

“She saved me!”

“And if she knew that what she had planned for you would make you miserable, do you think she’d still insist on going forward with that?”

The bard looked at me, a single tear sliding down her cheek, then turned away, burying her face in her pillow. I rubbed her back, silently offering support, until she relaxed again.

“Perhaps there is a way to aid Dorothea, and still remain yourself. To stay with Nathaniel. Just ... think about it, okay?”

She squeezed my hand gratefully. “Dorothea really becomes the Divine?”

I nodded. “In the game, anyway. I suppose things might have changed since then. Justinia, I think. That’s the name she takes. You say, in the game, that she’s a good person who thinks mages deserve to be treated fairly, who wants to reform the Circles and help people. She sounds ... good.”

“She is.”

“I’m glad. We could use some of that.” I slapped her hip with a smile. “Now put on some clothes, lazy girl. You can’t just lay around naked all day!”

She laughed and I grinned as I climbed out of her tent. The six Wardens were gone, and Aedan had just started breakfast. With fewer of us – and the troublemakers temporarily separated – we kept just two campfires; while Aedan worked over a pot at one, I started a pot of porridge at the other. Soon the smell of food had Wardens tumbling out of their tents, and we all settled in to eat.

Afterwards, Aedan informed us that we would be leaving for Denerim in two days. “The wagons to transport the injured have arrived, and they’ll follow behind, but we will be accompanying Cailan back to Denerim to await the Weisshaupt delegation, Cailan’s formal re-coronation, and the celebrations planned for the end of the Blight. Afterwards, Loghain, Riordan, and Dougal will be leaving for Jader, Sten for Seheron, and the rest of us will travel to Amaranthine.