Chapter Text
It was, by every standard, an average day. The sun was high in the sky, a few clouds floating around up above, a crisp breeze blowing through the trees. Duncan’s horse’s hooves thudded into the path with muted phat phat sounds and occasionally tossed his head, causing the black strands of his mane to fly through the air, or snorted gently. He’d been riding nearly three days, but his journey had just begun…
After all, he didn’t expect it to be easy to find recruits for the Wardens. Eligible members were far and in between – he expected to get maybe three at most over the course of his journey, traveling around the outskirts of Ferelden while the armies gathered at Ostagar in preparation for the fight against the hordes. He sighed, relaxing back into his saddle, and for a few minutes, everything was peaceful and calm.
But then a strange prickling began in his chest.
He frowned.
It was a familiar feeling, but it should not be coming this far away from the wilds. Sill, there was no doubt about it.
Darkspawn.
Sitting up a bit straighter, eyebrows lowered in a concerned frown, he flicked the reins and headed towards the feeling, allowing it to grow stronger and stronger as he darted through the trees, until suddenly he was standing outside a small moss-covered cave. The taint was coming from it, stronger than he’d ever felt it before.
An archdemon?
The thought chilled his bones. Still, he had to check, if not at least to confirm his suspicions. He dismounted and tied his horse’s reins around a nearby tree branch. Then, drawing his sword, he approached the cave carefully, not daring to make a sound.
Peeking around the corner, however, he saw no dragon, no horde of darkspawn waiting to rush out. Instead he saw a mirror, intricate and tarnished with age. Its silver surface was discolored enough that it didn’t reflect anything around it, and its frame struck him as something in the style of ancient Tevinter artifacts, with sharp, ornate protrusions and tall, worn statues of what looked to be a pair of sword-wielding men, bald heads and indistinct features because of the passage of time.Lying in front of that mirror, eyes open and yet entirely motionless other than the barest rise and fall of his chest, was an elven man. It was difficult to tell if he was injured or not from a distance, and so, after looking over the cave warily once more, Duncan rushed in and then crouched down at the elf’s side. Unseeing purple eyes - a rather unusual color, for an elf - stared up from a tanned face painted with the tattoos of Falon’din, the Dalish god of death and fortune, or so he thought. There were no visible wounds, no fresh blood on the leather armor he wore, no cuts on his arms, and his swords were both still sheathed and attached to his back - nothing to indicate he’d been in a fight of any sort. Duncan frowned and shook his arm urgently, but the man didn’t make a sound.
“Can you hear me?” He asked in a harsh whisper. Still, nothing. “Oh, Maker.” Duncan breathed, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”
The taint was rolling off the elf in waves - the source of what’d brought him there, however, was the mirror itself, the sickness pulsating from the glass screen. It was almost strong enough to suffocate him, and he knew they couldn’t stay in there a moment longer.
“Bear with me.” He muttered to the unconscious figure, grabbing his arms and dragging him across his shoulders. He then turned and ran out of the cave, away from the blighted object.
After laying him down again in the sun, now a safe distance from the cave and the sickness it contained, Duncan was surprised to find the ‘man’ was closer in age to that of a boy, likely not even eighteen. He was very tall for an elf, with the lean but muscular build of a rogue that gave him a weight heavier than he’d have expected of someone so young. Shoulder-length brown hair had been pulled back into a braided ponytail, although now half of it had come loose and hung in sweaty strands down his cheeks and neck, and the boy’s eyes had finally closed, hiding the vibrant purple irises from view. He was warm to the touch, very likely from the blight spreading through his veins, and the longer Duncan surveyed him, the less hope he had. Finally he sighed, got to his feet once more, and began searching the ground for any sign of how the boy had gotten there - there was no halla or horse nearby, so perhaps he’d walked.
He confirmed his suspicions a moment later, finding two sets of footprints in the mud, heading towards the cave’s entrance. One set was deeper than the others - the boy’s, he wanted to guess, based off his height and weight… of course, that meant that the boy hadn’t come alone. There was no sign of his companion, however, so whoever it was had either left their friend behind…
Or something truly terrible had happened to them.
Not wanting to think on it any longer, Duncan returned to the boy’s side and managed to pick him up once again, struggling to him up on the back of his horse for a bit before finally setting off in the direction the footprints had come from. If they had walked, then their village couldn't have been too far away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sure enough, a Dalish camp soon came into view, nestled in a small clearing. From what he could tell, there were a few tents and tables set up, elves milling about and talking with one another.
He didn’t get much farther past that when suddenly three figures dropped from the trees, arrows pointing at him and helmets pulled low over their faces.
“What have you done?” They demanded angrily. His horse shifted, preparing to run, but Duncan clicked his tongue, keeping the beat calm.
“I come in peace.” He held his hands up in surrender, speaking low and slow even as the adrenaline hit him, making his heart race and his senses sharpen. He was acutely aware of the four arrows trained directly at his chest, and took a deep breath as he carefully measured his voice. “I found this boy lying in a cave, alone, several miles away from your clan. He is very sick - your Keeper will want to see him.” The elves looked at each other; one of them, a bulkier man with hard blue eyes and jet black hair, gave a nod, and they all straightened, lowering their bows but not yet removing their arrows.
No matter how many times he was in a situation like that, no matter how often he was moments away from death, he never got used to it. A little sigh of relief finally let his shoulders relax, and he gave his well-practiced, easy-going smile. “I am Duncan, Commander of the Fereldan Grey Wardens.” That got a reaction out of the elves, the woman on his left giving a little gasp in surprise as she turned to her comrades.
“A Warden.” She murmured. The others murmured amongst themselves for a moment; finally the black-haired elf nodded at him and turned, leading him in the direction of their village. Duncan urged his horse forwards; the beast fought for a moment, stomping his hooves in protest, but finally began lumbering forwards, eyes trained on the arrows still held in the elves’ fingers.
They’d just barely gotten in range of the camp when there was suddenly a cry of terror and then, “Is that… Min! ” came from somewhere to his right, and suddenly everyone’s eyes turned to him. A young woman- nineteen or so from the looks of her - came running over, stumbling over tree roots, pale with worry. “Creators, that is Min! Is he alright-” She instantly began assaulting him with questions, the words flying out of her mouth in a frenzy as she reached out to her unconscious friend. “What happened to him? Where’s Tal-“
“Calm yourself, child.” Duncan said gently, putting a hand out to stay her. “Your friend is alive, but barely so. He needs help. Do you have a healer in this village?”
“That would be me.”
He looked up to see a grey-haired elf striding towards him, and watched as the others parted to make way. He recognized a Keeper when he saw one; he bowed his head respectfully. She nodded back at him, and then motioned to two of the nearby scouts, the ones who’d brought him over. They walked up, staring distrustfully between Duncan and his horse.
“Yes, Keeper?”
“Take Minehn to my aravel. I will begin healing him there.”
“Yes, Keeper.” They repeated, and Duncan helped them slide the unconscious boy off the horse’s back, and then watched as they carried him away. The others in the clan stepped back as they passed again, concerned looks passing between them as they caught glimpses of this ‘Minehn’ and how pale his face was. When they disappeared inside the largest tent, the Keeper turned back to him.
“Who are you?” It wasn’t so much of a demand as a firm question. “Where did you find Minehn?”
“My name is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens.” He replied calmly, and after a moment, saw the name register in her face.
“A Warden?” The young woman, her raven-black hair cut short with little braids running throughout it, blinked in surprise, temporarily distracted from her worry. “You mean those people with the griffin armor who fight the darkspawn?” He nodded.
“I was passing by a little ways away from here when I found your friend. He was collapsed in a cave a bit to the west of your village.” Duncan replied, and then looked around at the small conglomerate of elves that’d gathered to listen in, and quietly cleared his throat. “There is… something of importance you should know about.” He added, giving the Keeper a meaningful look. She turned and raised an eyebrow at the rest of her clan.
“The situation is being handled.” She said, authoritative and unwavering in tone. “Go back to your business. We will gather later to talk.” The elves, apparently satisfied with this, went back to what they were doing, whispering amongst each other as they did so. Some of them continued to glance over from time to time, but none of them were outright staring anymore.
Well, none, except for the small, dark haired girl at his waist, staring up at him with concern.
“What happened to Min?” She asked again. “Where’s Tamlen? Did you see anyone with him?” Her eyebrows were furrowed, hands fidgeting in front of her. “They were hunting together, and I was beginning to worry that they’d been gone so long. Not that it was unusual, with those two. Min with his wandering and Talmen, always out adventuring, but Min normally stays out of trouble… But I could feel something wrong! I just knew it!” The girl said, talking faster and faster as she did so.
“Merrill, calm yourself.” The Keeper said with a sigh that bordered on exasperation. “Only one question can be answered at a time.”
“There was no one with him when I arrived.” Duncan replied to the young girl’s query and instantly watched her face fall. “But,” he continued, and she perked back up again, “there were two sets of footprints outside the cave. Perhaps his friend left through a back entrance.” The girl frowned at this, and then shook her head.
“He would never leave Min behind.” Merrill said resolutely, and turned to the keeper. “Oh, I just know something terrible has happened to him, Keeper, I know it!”
The Keeper pondered for a moment, and then sighed.
“Merrill, go gather a hunting party. They are to disembark immediately and search for Tamlen.” She said. The girl nodded, relief dropping her shoulders slightly.
“Yes, Keeper. Thank you.” Then she turned and ran back into the center of the village. The older woman sighed, and then looked back at Duncan.
“She is my First, who will take after me as Keeper someday.” She explained. “She’s got a ways to go, but she is a sweet girl.”
“I can see that.” Duncan replied with a smile. “Now, about the other boy, the one I brought here… Minehn?” He asked, his voice lowering, and she nodded. “The cave I found him in… it is filled with ancient relics, of Elvish origin. Many of them are broken, but enough to salvage. There’s writings on them, if you’ve someone to translate.”
“Mythal bless us.” The Keeper breathed, eyes widening as she processed the importance of the information. “Elvish writings and artifacts… they must be centuries old!” Then she hesitated, tapping one long finger against the side of her leg as she thought. “But why were the boys there? They should have known better than to go without telling me, yet I heard nothing about it.” Duncan shook his head.
“I do not know, Keeper. But… there is something else.” He sighed, looking towards the Aravel in the distance where they’d brought the wounded boy. “There was a mirror, in the back. He was lying beside it, on the steps.” She frowned.
“A mirror cannot knock one of my hunters unconscious and make him delirious with fever, sir Duncan.” The Keeper replied.
“No, it cannot at that.” Duncan chuckled, and then sighed. “The mirror was radiating with the taint… stronger than I’ve ever felt it in an inanimate object. That is what brought me to the cave.” She started in surprise, paling slightly, her weary, aged eyes turning to look at the Aravel as well.
“The taint of Darkspawn…” she whispered, more as a statement of disbelief than a question, and then turned back to him, clearly confused. “What would that be doing among relics of our peoples?”
“I do not know, Keeper.” Duncan said. “But I will go and see. Heal the boy, if you can… I will be back in a few days to check on him. For if my suspicions are correct…” he started, and then trailed off, shaking his head. “But perhaps it will not come to that.” The Keeper cast worried eyes towards her Aravel once more, and then nodded.
“I think that is for the best.” She agreed. “ Dareth shiral , Grey Warden.”
“ Dareth shiral to you as well, Keeper.” The warden replied, and then, mounting his horse, set course back towards the cave with its strange mirror.
By the time he got there, it was dark, and he decided any further exploring could be done the next morning. After tying the horse up to the same branch he’d found before, he spread his bedroll out on the ground and draped a blanket over himself. It wasn’t long before he was asleep, but then, that never really meant he was resting…
As much as he was proud of being a Warden as as much as he loved being able to fight for the good of Thedas, he still hated the nightmares. He could live a hundred years without his calling, and he'd still never get used to the sound of dragon's screaming ripping through the night, or the feeling of wings slicing through the air and creating winds strong enough to send all his comrades to the ground, and darkspawn...
Darkspawn everywhere, spreading, killing, swarming, for as far as the eye could see...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d been over the cave five, maybe six times, checking all the artifacts, studying the mirror, exploring what was beyond it for anything else that might be tainted, taking breaks only to eat and feed his horse. There was so much Elven history stored in the cave, but alas he did not read the ancient languages. The keeper would need to send someone to check it out…
By the end of that day, he’d learned all there was to know about the cave, and had mapped it on a piece of paper for the elves to use when they came to examine it. He would be getting back to the Dalish earlier than he’d expected, but the cave had been rather small, honestly, and hadn’t taken that long to explore.
Besides, he was anxious to get back and see if Minehn had survived. If he did… that is, if he managed to survive that long with the taint inside him (as now, after examining the mirror, Duncan was sure he did) then perhaps he had what it would take to become a Warden.
And, let’s face it, becoming a Warden would probably be the only thing that could save him, even if he was still alive. He knew the Keeper was powerful, but no one could heal the blight.
So, with plans to set off towards the camp again in the morning, he curled up once more, dreams of darkspawn and dragons haunting the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, he decided to one more sweep to make sure he didn’t miss anything, and then was going to head back to the Dalish. His dreams were stronger, more vivid, when next to the mirror, and he was debating whether or not to destroy it, when—
“There’s a pressure plate here, don’t step on the disk.”
Muffled voices, coming from the entrance to the cave made him pause, and he frowned, turning around. A moment later, three elves appeared – one, the concerned girl, Merrill, who was First to the Keeper, a second one unfamiliar, and the third…
The third was the boy he’d saved. How is he walking with the Blight in him? Duncan stared. Either the keeper is stronger than I gave her credit for, or he is…
“Oh! Hello, Sir Duncan.” Merrill’s eyes lit on him. “Are you busy? Because I'm supposed to have a look at the mirror to see if it’s elvish and see if I can figure out what it did.” She rose up on her toes, doing her best to peer up at the mirror and its two flanking statues, despite how he was mostly blocking the way.
“This mirror is from Tevinter,” he said with a sigh, turning away from it. “And dangerous.” If the girl got too close, she would no doubt contract the blight, just like her friend.
“Have you seen another elf around here?” Minehn asked, his voice anxious. “A little shorter than me, blonde, had a bow?” He was looking around, as if he expected his friend to just appear out of the walls.
“I'm sorry, but I haven't. And I doubt that I will.” Duncan sighed. He walked a bit closer to the boy, frowning slightly. “What happened here, before I found you?”
“There was-- an odd bear, it wasn't right somehow. And Tamlen touched the mirror. And then--” He cut off suddenly, looking away. Duncan sighed.
“I've seen other artifacts like this one,” said the Warden. “If they are corrupted, they can act as pathways for the darkspawn. It is best if I destroy it.”
“The Keeper said-” Merrill started to say, but Min interrupted her with, “What about Tamlen?” Duncan frowned at the boy. There was a flush on his cheeks and worry in his eyes. They were close. He reminded himself. It is only natural he is worried. It’s only unfortunate that I have to tell him…
“He is either dead, or corrupted by the Blight.” He said, watching as all three of the elves paled. “This mirror is dangerous. It would be almost impossible to cleanse it, and in the meantime it would continue to allow darkspawn into these ruins.” He watched the young adults carefully, and saw determination set into Minehn’s face. Merrill still looked like she wanted to protest, but she said nothing, only slipping her arm through her friend’s.
“Destroy it, then,” he said, voice quiet. Duncan sighed, and then drew his sword and walked back to the mirror.
“Stand back.” he warned, and watched as the three of them stumbled away towards the entrance. Then, swinging the weapon over his head with as much force as he could muster, he slammed his sword into the mirror. The glass shattered, catching torchlight as the pieces fell to the ground and clinked into each other. The pieces of mirror still didn't reflect any part of the actual room, but it was less disconcerting when it wasn't a solid piece of dark glass. For a moment, the taint flashed strong, stronger than he’d ever felt it before, stronger even than it had been when he first arrived.
And then it was gone. He sighed.
“It is done.” He said. “And we should leave. We don't know how many darkspawn have already come through the mirror.”
The three of them nodded wordlessly, staring at the pieces of the mirror on the ground for a moment before turning and filing out of the cave. The trip back to camp was quiet, for the most part, until Min almost ran into a tree and Merrill had to insert herself under his arm. The Blight is affecting him more than I realized. Duncan thought. The boy’s steps were uneven and his balance was faulty, and he doubted he’d be able to even use the swords strapped to his back. “What did the mirror do to me,” Minehn muttered under his breath. Duncan sighed.
“You have the Blight, Minehn. I'm surprised you’ve lasted as long as you have, although I suspect your Keeper had something to do with that.” He paused, unsure of how much to say yet. Then he decided to just go with it… a little baiting, and maybe he could convince him. “It won’t last. However, I do know of a cure, of sorts.”
Min looked at him in surprise. “Would it work on Tamlen?” was the first thing out of his mouth, but then he seemed to pause, and shook his head. “What is it?”
“Keeper Marethari needs to be included in this conversation.” Duncan replied, satisfied with the boy’s interest. Perhaps he could make him a Warden, yet… with the resistance to the Blight that the boy had displayed so far, he would doubtless survive the Joining, and there would be one more Warden in the fight against the darkspawn for the war to come…
The camp had barely come into sight when the Keeper started towards them, reaching out to Min when she was beside them, her hands glowing a faint green color. Min winced slightly, but then breathed out a sigh of relief – whatever she’d just done, that’s how she was keeping the Blight back. Duncan frowned but said nothing. Then she turned to him.
“Did you find Tamlen?” She asked.
“No,” Duncan replied, shaking his head. “It’s unlikely that we will find him.” He watched the other elves wince, and the Keeper’s face fell. She turned to Merrill and the unfamiliar boy.
“Go.” She nodded towards a couple of other elves, and Merrill looked like she was about to cry, but simply nodded and did as she was told, dragging the third elf behind her. Min looked like he wanted to follow them, but the Keeper shook her head.
“Stay here, Min. There are things we need to discuss.” She said. He just nodded mutely. Duncan paused, and then said, “I do have a more… permanent solution for Minehn’s illness, although it would take him away from your clan, probably for quite some time.” He watched as the offer sank in for the Keeper, although Min seemed not to be listening, only watching his friends leave.
“What is this plan, then?” asked the Keeper.
“My order is in need of help,” Duncan said, “and he is in need of a cure. When I leave, if he will join me, he would make an excellent Grey Warden.”
“You want him to be a what now?” The keeper asked, aghast.
“A Grey Warden.” Duncan repeated. “The Darkspawn taint courses through his veins, Keeper. Your help has done much to stay the sickness, but eventually it will claim him. That he recovered at all is remarkable.”
“What will happen if he stays?” The Keeper asked, sounding weary, all the power that’d been her voice two days previous now faded into a pained resignation that only barely seemed to be keeping her together. “Is there anything to be done? Anything at all?”
“Eventually the taint will sicken and kill him.” Duncan shook his head. “There is nothing you can do for him here, Keeper. The Grey Wardens can prevent such a thing, but it would mean joining us.”
“Would he be able to return?” The Keeper finally asked after debating quietly for nearly five minutes, eyes flicking between him and the boy over and over again. . Duncan knew she could see there was no other way, and he hated that it had to be like that, but…
“I do not know. All we offer for now is a way for him to survive.” He replied truthfully. “It is not simply charity on my part, however. I would not offer if I did not think he had the makings of a Warden.” He paused, and then sighed. “Let me be clear. It is likely he will never return here. We will go and fight the darkspawn, a battle that will take him far from this Clan.” He paused. “But we need him, and others like him, for the good of Thedas. A new Blight threatens the land, Keeper, and you cannot outrun it.”
“You want me to be a Grey Warden?”
They were both stopped by Min’s voice breaking into the conversation. Duncan had almost forgotten the boy was standing right there. He turned his gaze down to the purple-eyed boy and nodded.
“Yes, Minehn.”
“What… even is a Grey Warden?” The boy asked quietly. “What do they do?”
“We stop the Blight,” Duncan said firmly, for what other description could he give? Min frowned and attempted to shift his weight, almost wobbling as he tried and failed to keep his balance. Dunan put a hand on his shoulder to keep him standing, the boy looked up at him, fear in his eyes, and pain, far more pain than someone his age should know. He tried to remind himself that this… this was a boy he was dealing with, not an adult, tried to remind himself not everyone was as jaded as he himself. He forced his voice to soften, giving the boy a grim look as he continued. “But it is also the only way you will survive the taint, Minehn. If you stay here, you will eventually die.”
The elf just stared at him, hesitating, thoughts racing behind his eyes. Finally he swallowed thickly, glancing over to where Merrill and their other companion were standing.
“Can I wait until after the funeral? Before we leave, I mean?” he asked. Duncan had already opened his mouth to prepare a stronger argument, when he suddenly realized that Min had just… agreed , just like that. Usually it took a bit more persuasion, and sometimes even an official conscription, to get people to join them.
Maker knew it’d taken that with him, and he’d still tried to run away three times before deciding to stick it out with the Wardens. He closed his mouth again, considering this.
“How long will that take?” He eventually asked. There was still a chance, and that’s all he needed. Besides, if he stayed he would definitely die, while if Duncan took him back to the Wardens, there was at least a chance he would live.
“We don't have a body to prepare, so… A couple hours?” the boy shrugged, but it didn’t seem like his heart was in it. Duncan sighed, and then nodded.
“Meet me back at the cave when you’re ready to depart.” He said. “I need to go collect my things, and my horse.”
Min blinked.
“Horse?” He squeaked out, eyes widening as he looked at the Keeper. “I… um. I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
Well, that could be a problem. Duncan frowned, but the Keeper shook her head.
“We must move locations anyways now. Min, come with me.” She motioned him forwards, and then turned back to Duncan. “I wish to talk with him privately. Ma serannas, Grey Warden. Andruil enansai .” She nodded to him, and he nodded back. Then he turned and began the walk back to the cave as she took Min aside, pulling him into a hug and murmuring gently in his ear.
It was never easy for recruits to leave their lives behind.
But it was part of being a Warden… it was necessary. For the good of Thedas.
Maker bless us all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was nearly nightfall when the sound of heavy footfalls came to Duncan’s ears, and he frowned. It couldn’t have been Min, they were too…
But then he spotted him in the distance, on the back of a large, white Halla. Ah, that makes more sense. Duncan thought, watching as the boy approached. He was pale, and for a moment Duncan feared he’d topple right off the beast, but eventually he made it, and dismounted shakily, stumbling. Duncan caught his shoulder, keeping him from falling.
“Whoa, there. Steady. Are you alright?” He asked. Min just shrugged, without saying anything. Duncan sighed. “We need to heal you, and soon, or it will be too late.”
“So how does this ‘cure’ work?” Min sighed, leaning back against the halla for balance. The creature had no reins, only a saddle with a bag full of blankets on one side and a basket of food on the other, and Duncan vaguely wondered how the elf managed to guide it. He turned and reached into his own saddlebag, pulling out a small vile. It was purple and sickly looking; he peered at it, and then nodded in satisfaction.
“This should be enough.” He said.
I think this will be the first Joining done without the ceremony. He thought for a moment, and then shrugged inwardly. He didn’t have time to get all the way back to Ostagar before Min would die, and he still had a lot of Fereldan to cover before going back anyways. This will have to do.
He’d decided not to tell Min what it was, or what it did. Should they pick up more recruits, as he hoped to do, he didn’t want the elf telling them what happens. Besides, he wasn’t certain the boy would agree if he knew the cure was darkspawn blood. Instead he just turned and handed him the vial.
“Drink this, and it will heal you.” He said. Min frowned at it suspiciously.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Duncan replied. Then he watched in anticipation as the elf uncorked the vial, put it against his lips, and tilted his head back, downing all of it in one swallow. When he pulled back, he was making a face.
“That tastes vile.” He muttered.
Then he began to tremble, and his eyes rolled back in his head...
…and then he fell to the ground, unconscious once again. Duncan knelt at his side, feeling for a pulse, for anything.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the steady thump, thump, thump of the boy’s heart pounded faintly under his fingertips.
It worked. He thought gratefully.
“Congratulations, Minehn.” He murmured. “You’re now a Grey Warden.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Min woke with a fiercely pounding headache and a bright light in his eyes. He groaned and rolled over – his stomach felt like it was on fire.
“You’re awake. That is good.” A voice said from somewhere nearby. He blinked his eyes open and saw Duncan, the Warden-Commander from earlier - earlier? The day before? He had no idea what time it was, but it was morning so it was probably the next day, at least - sitting on the ground a few feet away, a blanket with some sandwiches spread before him.
“What… happened?” Min asked, pushing himself to a sitting position. Slowly everything started to come back to him – the cave, the mirror… Tamlen…
He looked around. They were still outside the cave. He couldn’t see inside of it. He could, however, see Tamlen, reaching to touch the mirror with an open hand, the flash that came afterwards… Could he have done something to stop him? Actually said something, instead of gaping like a fool?
He could have physically pushed Tamlen away from the mirror. He was stronger than him. Or broken the mirror himself. Or any one of a seemingly infinite number of possibilities. None of that would help Tamlen now, but that didn't stop him from thinking about all the what-ifs.
“Come.” The Warden said, gesturing to the food and startling him back to the present. “You need to get your strength back.” Min couldn’t really imagine eating at a time like this, and wasn’t hungry in the least, but he sighed and got to his feet.
Then he frowned. The dizzying, sickly feeling from before was gone. All that was left behind was a bitter taste in his mouth and faintly upset stomach.
And a pounding headache, of course.
He sat down across from the Warden, who’d been watching him carefully the entire time, and pulled his knees into his chest.
“How do you feel?” Duncan asked. Min shrugged.
“Better.”
“That is good.” The man nodded in approval. “The headache is just a side effect. It will go away soon enough. Have a sandwich – you need to eat, Minehn.”
“Just Min.” the boy replied. “And I’m…not very hungry.”
“Ah yes, your friend.” The warden sighed. “It is unfortunate, what happened to him.”
Min didn’t reply, couldn’t bring himself to speak. Instead he just looked away.
“He was important to you?” The Warden asked.
“Yes.” The boy replied, voice soft. Not that there’d ever been a chance… He was pretty sure Tamlen was as straight as the arrows he shot. Or… had been. He’d always been certain it wouldn’t be worth it to push, no matter what Merrill said. That didn’t mean he didn’t quietly freaking out whenever the tangle of limbs that the four of them usually slept in deviated from the usual Fenarel-Tamlen-Merrill-him order, of course - sometimes Tamlen’s arm or leg would somehow end up near him and he’d be up all night long, acutely aware of it while Tamlen himself slumbered on, blissfully unaware of how hard his best friend was crushing on him
Not that those sleeping piles with his friends would ever happen again, now that he was going to be a Warden. He tried not to think about it. Instead he just reached for a sandwich, deciding to give in to Duncan’s demands that he eat something.
“So what now?” he asked. Might as well look forwards, because looking back was still too painful. The Warden sighed.
“I set out to gather recruits to the order, and so gather we will.” He said. “First we’ll be heading to the docks – I am to meet Enchanter Irwing of the Fereldan Circle and discuss any promising mages for the Wardens.” Min frowned.
“That’s. Sort of far away… isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Duncan shrugged. “It should take us a good three day’s ride to reach it. Once we’re done there, we’ll head to Orzammar. It’s been far too long since the Wardens have had a dwarf on our side.”
Min hesitated.
“Orzammar… it’s all underground tunnels, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Perfect… Min thought glumly. He hated being underground, and the recent experience in the cave did nothing to help that hatred. “Then what?”
“From there, it’s a four day ride to Amaranthine.” Duncan said. “There’s a boy I know, a promising young man by the name of James Cousland. He would make an excellent addition to our ranks, if I can persuade his father.” He sighed. “We might stop in Denerim for supplies, but after that we shall head back to Ostagar, with whomever we have with us. Then it will be only a month before the battle we have planned, and, with the Maker watching over us, we will end this blight before it truly begins.”
Min couldn’t ever imagine traveling so much, especially not without his clan, without his friends. Already he missed Merrill, and she wasn’t even that far away yet. He looked down at the sandwich in his hands – Asha had always been one of the best cooks he’d known, best in the clan. She’d taken care of him after his parents had died; thinking of her only made his homesickness worse, and he let go of the sandwich with one hand and reached to touch the string of beads around his neck. It had been his mother’s… Asha had given it to him that very same day, before he’d left to join Duncan, and finally told him the story of what happened to his parents. His mother had switched clans, which was an adventure in itself, but this? This… adventure he was about to go on with the Warden man? This was like nothing he’d ever heard of a Dalish elf doing before, not unless they were exiled or going to live in one of the human cities. He really wasn’t hungry, but… with a journey like that ahead of him?
He sighed, and then took a bite of the sandwich. Duncan nodded his head approvingly and smiled at him.
Min turned his eyes away, swallowed the rather dry, tasteless bread, and did not bother to smile back.