Chapter 121: Noble Training

The group of Wardens and the Legion of the Dead ate an incredible amount of food over the late meal; too busy stuffing faces, the noise settled down to a dull roar while we all finished up. There was enough chaos for me to eat like the Warden I was without raising suspicion. Poor Nathaniel and Varel looked vaguely ill watching it; Leliana, used to us by that point, just laughed.

Afterwards, Alistair, Conrad, Aedan, Nathaniel, Varel, and a couple of Legion dwarves stepped out to talk, leaving the rest of us to mingle and chat with the remainder of the Legion. I overheard multiple stories about the rescue in Kal’Hirol, some people amused by the destruction Dworkin wreaked with his explosives, while some of the dwarves were incensed. It was interesting that even among the Legion, who were largely former Casteless or dishonoured warriors and nobles like Bhelen, there was discrimination against surface dwarves. Bel and Oghren defended the pyromaniac, reminding everyone of the massive nest of broodmothers they’d uncovered and destroyed, almost without any injuries.

I spent some time chatting with Sigrun. She was unsurprisingly confused by my interest in her, poorly veiled as it was; I’d never claimed to be a good actress.

“Never been on the surface before,” she was saying. “It’s sort of ... bright, you know?”

The other dwarves around her nodded as though she’d just said something incredibly profound; I had to restrain a giggle. I tried not to talk too much, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by acting like I knew her. She was sweet and somehow adorably naïve; I thought she and Leli could be friends, if only Leliana wasn’t planning on leaving.

I wondered what would happen now; with her Legion unit still alive, was she going to become a Warden? I got distracted before I could ponder it too much by Conrad waving to get my attention from the door.

“What’s up, Conrad?”

He looked up briefly, confused, before shaking his head with a hint of a smile. “Commanders want you in the meeting.”

I followed him down a hallway and around a corner to a closed door; it led to a moderate-sized sitting room with my brother, my husband, and their guests. Alistair held his arm out, and I squished myself into a space on the couch between him and Aedan with a smile.

I was introduced to the two dwarves, Trevian, the head of the Legion detachment, and Fargrim, his second in command.

“Trevian’s suggested that we work together for a time, make a formal arrangement between the Legion and the Wardens.”

I raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired, bushy-bearded dwarf. He grimaced slightly. “We’d like to retake Kal’Hirol, and we’ll need to borrow your masons to do it after what that stone-blind dunce did to it. In return, we can help patrol the Deep Roads under the Keep while you find the dwarven door your Commander claims is down there. And the Keep can have whatever stone you manage to salvage while digging out the Thaig.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. I don’t have any authority here, though – what do you need from me?”

Aedan smirked at me. “I’ve recommended one of the Legion join the Wardens as a sort of ... liaison, I suppose. I thought I’d see if you had an opinion on which dwarf would be best suited for the role, given your skills at reading people.”

I beamed. Yes! “Join, as in become a Warden?” At Aedan’s nod, I continued. “Sigrun,” I replied immediately. “She’d be perfect.”

Fargrim gave me a patronising smile. “In the ten minutes you’ve been in there, you can tell that already? Our least-experienced Legionnaire?” He turned back to Trevian to say something else, when Alistair interrupted him.

“If my wife says Sigrun is the one, she’s the one we’ll take,” he declared, and Aedan nodded. I was grateful; Avernus’ new Joining potion might be an improvement over the original, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I wasn’t prepared to watch another dwarf die needlessly to assuage the arrogant dwarf’s concerns. I wasn’t aware Sigrun was their junior member, but I knew she was loyal, brave, and good in a fight, and best yet, she’d survive the Joining.

Trevian’s brow furrowed slightly as he regarded me, but finally nodded. “Sigrun, then.” His voice was gravelly, like someone who’d smoked for a century; given the lack of regular tobacco that I’d seen in Thedas – the occasional pipe not-withstanding – I wondered if he’d been born that way, or somehow injured his vocal cords. “When will you perform the Joining?”

“I’d like to offer her the chance directly, if you don’t mind. If she refuses, I will take your suggestion on who to approach next. We can talk with her tomorrow, after everyone has had a chance to get to know each other.”

“You have accommodations?” I asked.

Seneschal Varel nodded. “The main barracks are full, but there’s an outbuilding that used to house surplus guards and Amaranthine soldiers on duty. The roof will need some work before winter, but it’s acceptable for now.”

“My men are rather pleased with the opportunity to sleep in actual beds.” Trevian snorted. “We’d better go get things settled before the boys find the rest of the ale.”

Back in the dining room, Aedan made a speech welcoming the Legion, and all the members of both groups announced their names in turn. A keg of ale was opened, with Varel reminding everyone that would be it for drink for the evening, so we could get to work in the morning. None of the Legionnaires seemed upset to learn they’d be working with the Wardens, and mugs of ale began being passed around. We all drank to the Legion and the Wardens – I passed my almost entirely full ale to Oghren after the toast – and then allowed myself to be pulled in Alistair’s lap to catch up with our former companions and get to know our new ones.

When I looked up a few minutes later, I realised I couldn’t see Rolan anywhere; I soon forgot about him to enjoy my evening. Tired as we were from the travel, Alistair and I went to bed early, made love tenderly, and then passed out in the first real bed since we’d left Denerim.

We were woken early by servants banging on the door; it wasn’t quite the crack of dawn, but we hadn’t been allowed to sleep in much. We climbed out of bed reluctantly, and I put on one of my new pant suits and sat brushing my hair while Alistair struggled into his armour. I finally took pity on him and began helping him with buckles and straps.

“Why do they make armour so needlessly complicated?” I grumbled.

He chuckled. “We don’t have Earth’s fancy machines to make it, that’s why!”

I pouted and finally closed the last buckle. “You’re all set. What are the plans for the day?”

“First we’re all going to meet with everyone in the main hall. I’m taking one group of Wardens and some of the Legion into the basement to close that Deep Roads exit before we’re attacked. Conrad will be taking a second group to patrol the Wending Wood – you mentioned the darkspawn playing off the humans against the Dalish? And I think Aedan will be leaving for Amaranthine to help the Arl’s troops clear out smugglers and collapse down any back entrances into the city. The stone masons will start with plans for the walls.”

“And me?” I sighed. It was going to take some getting used to, being away from Alistair most days for separate duties. As much as camping in the rain was unpleasant, at least during the Blight we were together.

Alistair, sensing my melancholy, pulled me into a gentle hug. “I think Nate and the seneschal have plans for you. Administrative ... something or other.” He kissed my pouting lips softly. “I will miss having you with me, but I won’t miss worrying about your safety.”

“So I’m just supposed to be the good little wifey, staying safe while my big, strong husband goes off to fight?”

He tilted my chin up with a tender hand on my jaw. “Not because you’re a woman, or my wife. You know that, right? It’s because you’re the Steward of Soldier’s Peak. As much as your business experience will help, I suspect there’s going to be a lot to learn to run what’s essentially an Arling. I think that’s a much more worthwhile use of your time than fighting darkspawn, don’t you?”

I sighed again. “You’re right, of course. I just worry about you. At least when we’re together, I have some illusion of control; I can pretend that I can help keep you safe.”

He kissed me again before taking my hand and leading me out into the corridor. “I love you, Sierra. Control freak issues and all.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, turning my glower into a laugh. We strolled down the more direct route to the main hall – a passing servant had taken pity on us the night before and showed us a way back to our room – and found ourselves something to eat in the dining room. The Wardens were all there, uncharacteristically quiet in the early morning, and I wondered briefly if one keg was enough alcohol to make them all hungover.

The Legion were there too, Trevian and Fargrim nodding at Alistair as we entered. The rest of the dwarves were much livelier than the wardens – whether more used to the early hour or less hungover, I couldn’t say.

Aedan was already there, Zevran at his side, silently shoveling food into their mouths and watching the Legionnaires banter. Alistair and I joined my brother, talking quietly around mouthfuls of porridge, thin-sliced meats, cheese, and thick-sliced bread. What I wouldn’t give for a proper toaster.

After everyone had eaten, Aedan sent Conrad, Rolan, Bel, and Mornwulf off to patrol the Pilgrim’s Path, with strict instructions not to aggravate the elves or allow the humans settled in the area to attack, and under no circumstances to go inside the old Silverite mine; I hoped they’d be in time to prevent the murders of so many of Velanna’s clan, and perhaps even prevent Seranni from being taken by the Architect, but really had no solid way of knowing when those events had happened. Hopefully, at the least, if it’s already too late they can waylay Velanna before she attacks too many merchant caravans. Varel wasn’t yet aware of any problems along the Pilgrim’s Path, so I had hope, anyway.

Aedan planned to take Zevran, Oghren, Alim, and Prince with him to Amaranthine, along with a number of the army troops assigned to the Vigil by Cailan. They had multiple goals there: they’d promised Nathaniel to find his sister, Delilah, and invite her to visit the Vigil; they had to help the city guard root out the smugglers plaguing the city and then find a way to close the smuggler’s routes to the coast so the darkspawn wouldn’t be able to make use of them later; Aedan wanted to post notices recruiting for the Wardens in the city; and they wanted to get some of the dwarven stone masons working on Amaranthine’s walls. A number of the soldiers travelling with them would be staying in Amaranthine, with more coming later to defend against any darkspawn invasion. Aedan predicted they’d be away for a couple of days to accomplish everything; they were taking a number of Nathaniel’s soldiers with them, and hoped to have the help of the city guard as well.

The remaining Wardens – Alistair, Anders, and Solona – along with Leliana and about half of the Legionnaires were going to go on an expedition into the Deep Roads underneath Vigil’s Keep. Voldrik and a couple of the stone masons would be behind them, waiting to close off the tunnel. Aedan and Alistair had agreed to pair Sigrun up with the Wardens, so Alistair could evaluate her before formally offering her the Joining. I knew it was only for appearance’s sake; Trevian and Fargrim were still weirded out by the fact that I’d chosen a candidate without hesitation after knowing them only a short time.

Sergeant Maverlies was being sent as a messenger in case they needed to send someone back while they were fighting. The fact that they felt the need to take a messenger did not make me any happier about the plan to go essentially into the Deep Roads. Alistair squeezed me reassuringly when I stiffened up at that revelation, and I shot him a dirty look.

I went into the courtyard to watch Aedan leave, and Alistair assemble with the Legionnaires and remaining Wardens. The dwarves had obviously had some time to adjust to being on the surface; none of them spent time staring up at the sky the way Oghren, Faren, and Bel had when we’d first emerged from Orzammar, though a couple of them still looked distinctly pale. Sigrun alone seemed enthused, examining the way the sun glinted off their armour, and pointing out shapes in the clouds. I grinned until I realised Fargrim had noticed me watching her; the arrogant dwarf had his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me, and I moved away uncomfortably.