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Chapter Text

One last step, and you're free.

There should have been a sign. Grand applause or the screaming and cursing of Templars trying to drag them back. Rook was certain they were going to be caught several times over, but every single one of them had made it out.

"Ar lasa mala revas," was the only indicator they had truly escaped. "You are free."

Rook turned to look at Minrathous. The city was so bright it obscured the stars. It seemed strangely small from this distance.

"Your master called you Rook, didn't he?" Ah. They'd wondered if their magnanimous benefactor knew who they were. "I've heard of you. We could use someone of your talents."

"Who is we?"

The elf smiled, somehow serene.

"Ready for today? Last chance to back out."

"Honestly, Davrin, it's been years. If I wanted to leave, I would have."

Even Reimas laughed at that from where she sat on the ground across from them. Sitting outside wasn't so bad in the evenings: after the sun had started to set, but before the heat had completely faded.

The griffons weren't allowed in the dining hall, so he and Valya took their meals outside to spend time with them. Crookytail had draped itself over her lap while Assan ran around wildly, attempting to catch the blowing dust.

Davrin never stopped feeling lucky that Assan had chosen him.

"Well, you'll be a fine Grey Warden."

"One of the best," Reimas added. "I'm sure you'll survive."

Even though it had been years since Valya had first come to Weisshaupt, Davrin didn't like the idea of her undertaking the Joining so young. Valya knew more than most: the blood magic, the nightmares, the short amount of years before the Calling. If she underwent the ritual now, she'd be lucky to live to forty years old. Fifty, at best.

Valya's hands carded through Crookytail's feathers in long, even strokes while the hatchling nuzzled against her stomach. Her dinner was forgotten at her side. "I spoke to Caronel and he said only a third of the recruits die. Those are good chances, right?"

"Zero would be better." The joke came out strained. "Why do you want to be a Warden, anyways?" Not that Davrin could truly protest. He'd undergone the Joining young, himself. "You're already a fantastic mage and researcher. Fenedhis, Valya, you even brought back the griffons, no darkspawn blood necessary."

"Exactly." Valya turned to look at Assan. "Crookytail chose me, I'm choosing him back. And..."

Reimas reached out to squeeze her shoulder, forcing her to meet her eyes.

"I won't lie, I'm scared," Valya started softly. "Even reading about the darkspawn gives me nightmares sometimes. Isn't that all the more reason to do it? Sekah wanted to become a Warden to unite others, to protect them. He died for that."

She didn't say, 'because of me', but Davrin knew her well enough to hear it.

It took a moment to find a better way to say, 'he wouldn't want you to kill yourself out of grief', but ended up with, "It's a noble goal, one you've fulfilled without ever becoming tainted. I wouldn't dare tell you not to, but you won't be able to protect anyone if the Joining kills you."

"I understand, but I've made up my mind." Reimas' hand fell from her shoulder. Valya gave them both a small smile. "Caronel's taking me and Padin out to collect darkspawn blood tonight."

"We might bump into each other. I'll be taking senior Howe's recruits out as well." He glanced at the sky, finding the sun low on the horizon. "We should set out soon, before the light's entirely gone."

It was still entirely too hot to be wearing a full set of silverite plate armor, but that was just the price of living in the Anderfels.

"You should go find Padin, if you can." Davrin could only hope Howe had told his recruits to meet him by the gates at dusk. "Dareth shiral, lethallan."

"Maker go with you," Reimas added, despite not being pious. Valya had gently nudged Crookytail off her lap and whistled for Assan to follow her.

"Thank you. I'll see you both tomorrow morning."

Davrin stopped at the armory to don his sword and armor. He hoped Assan would be able to join him soon, but he was still too young. At three years old, they were technically juveniles, but he and Valya still called them hatchlings. The journal Valya had found suggested they'd be eating an entire goat per meal one day. It was difficult to imagine Assan getting that big.

The recruits were already waiting for him by the time he made it to the gates. They all stood conspicuously far apart, a templar, a mage, and someone he assumed to be a rogue. The rogue had their arms crossed, facing the other two while the mage had turned to keep the templar in her peripheral vision. The templar was outright glaring at the mage.

Just what he needed. They'd gotten lucky with Reimas and the other templars, but Howe always seemed to find the worst recruits.

"Is this everyone?" He questioned, managing to interrupt the silent pissing match.

"I believe so, ser," the mage answered. "Are you Warden Davrin?"

"I am, and you are?"

"My name is Ragna." She glanced backwards at the templar, shifting even further away from him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ragna." He gave her a slight nod, hoping his smile reassured her. "What about you two?"

"Erwin." The templar answered after a moment. "Erwin Hoffman."

The silence after his response was awkwardly ended by Ragna who told him, "And that's Rook."

The rogue hadn't made to move since he'd approached, only leaning against the wall of the gate and staring at them all from under their hood. It was almost disturbing how still they were, barely even breathing. Davrin faced Ragna instead.

"Did senior Howe explain to you what we're doing today?"

"He said we need to collect three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each of us." Erwin answered, coming to stand closer to them. Ragna took a step back.

"That's right. Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn, so stay close to me. Let's go while it's still light out."

They'd barely made it out of the gate before Ragna asked, "Are darkspawn more dangerous at night?"

Davrin barely stopped himself from shooting her an incredulous look as they started down the sharp incline. "Somewhat, but mostly we need the light to see."

"Why go at night then?" Erwin questioned.

Because he didn't want to be boiled in his armor. "It's too hot during the day," he answered. "Any other questions?"

"What do darkspawn look like?"

This time, Davrin couldn't stop the surprise from showing on his face.

It was obviously Rook who had spoken, their voice a soft Tevene rasp. Given their earlier lack of response, Davrin thought they might be mute or perhaps just shy.

"You're clearly not from around here," Erwin scoffed. Darkspawn were more numerous than insects in the Anderfels. Even without a blight, there were entrances to the Deep Roads and scattered scouts. During the summer, they mostly stayed underground. "Sure you want to be a Warden?"

"You'll know them when you see them," he answered as gently as possible.

It was easier than saying, 'they look like people' or maybe 'rotting corpses'.

Davrin glanced behind him. He couldn't tell with the mask, but it looked like Rook was frowning.

Each step kicked up dust to hiss along the ground. The wide, open steppes should theoretically make it easy to see darkspawn well in advance, but the rocky landscape could hide anything smaller than a genlock alpha or an ogre. During the dust storms, it'd be difficult to catch sight of a darkspawn until it was within spitting distance. It might be best to head towards the caves. There weren't many darkspawn this close to the fortress, but underground was always a safe bet.

Just walking down the steps took close to an hour. From there, they pressed close to the cliffs of Broken Tooth until Davrin found the entrance they were looking for. The air was immediately colder, his first step inside echoing and kicking like a drum.

Three pairs of eyes shined in the darkness.

"These are genlocks," he commented for Rook's benefit as the darkspawn roared. "They're resistant to magic."

"We'll see about that!" Ragna didn't hesitate before lighting up the room with a brief flash of fire. It knocked the genlocks back, but with nothing to catch on it quickly died out.

"Some light, please!" Davrin called over his shoulder before he rushed in, slamming into a genlock with his shield. A moment later, the warm light of a spell wisp washed over the cave. It was barely any brighter, but they could at least see their targets now.

He could see Erwin attack the genlock to his right, a carefully aimed streak of chain lightning flashing rapidly between them. The sudden light was near blinding: he had to duck behind his shield while he waited for his eyes to adjust.

In just three seconds, so many things could go wrong.

There was a growl, rapid footsteps, and a high pitched scream. He bashed the genlock in front of him down to the ground, turning to see Ragna knocked over and desperately crawling away from a hurlock alpha.

"Erwin! Protect Ragna!" Davrin tried to insert himself between Erwin and the genlock he was fighting so that he could fall back, but he just kept swinging. "Erwin!" He repeated, forcing both genlocks away with his shield. He risked a glance behind him.

The hurlock had forced Ragna against the wall, uselessly casting arcane bolts towards the darkspawn.

She looked truly afraid.

People had died without even making it to the ritual before. Collecting darkspawn blood was meant to be a test of strength, after all. Rainier told him that his own recruiter had died that way. Darkspawn were always dangerous, Grey Wardens or not. One choice, three seconds, one less recruit. An entire life ended by a moment of inattention.

His distraction cost him, one of the genlocks digging its dagger in between his chestplate and pauldron. Erwin shoved both of them aside, but Davrin could only watch with bated breath as-

The hurlock came crashing down on top of Ragna.

Rook crouched on its back, dragging two daggers inside the small gap in the neck of the hurlock's armor from its collarbones to the tip of its shoulderblades. There was a disgusting squelch as they pulled their daggers back, aiming instead for its face.

Davrin briefly caught sight of the third genlock dead on the ground before he was forced to turn back to the two he and Erwin were fighting. The hurlock had gotten up and Rook stood between it and Ragna. Without the element of surprise, they were forced to dodge each swing of the hurlock's sword, only just managing to avoid stepping on Ragna as they did so. Their daggers scraped uselessly off the beast's armor with the sharp, piercing screech of metal on metal. The hurlock gave no quarter and eventually its sword cut through their sleeve.

The moment the last genlock fell, he rushed the alpha hurlock with his shield, slamming it against the wall. He could see Ragna stand out of the corner of his eye. Rook lunged forward, jumping to reach the hurlock's helmet and viciously pushing one of their daggers through its eye. The hurlock stumbled backwards, but didn't fall. Davrin barely had time to raise his shield against the swing of its sword. The impact nearly pushed him backwards, but he managed to parry its blow. His sword was as useless as Rook's daggers. There wasn't enough time between blows to aim for a weak spot, though Rook valiantly tried to strike at its joints.

Ice crackled over its armor. It didn't quite freeze, but the small moment of delay was enough for Davrin to take his sword and cleave it through the weakened meat of its neck.

The harsh sound of their breaths filled the cave.

"Erwin," he started as calmly as he could. "I told you to protect Ragna. She nearly died and without her we wouldn't have been able to kill the hurlock."

Well, they probably could have, but it would have been a lot more difficult.

"I had my own opponents," Erwin stated equally as calm.

Davrin took a deep breath. It was fine, everyone had survived.

"Ragna, are you alright?"

"Just bruised," she admitted, understandably terse.

"Well, you've all proven your worth against the darkspawn. Go ahead and collect your vial of blood." Davrin reached out to clasp Rook's shoulder as they walked by, pretending not to notice their flinch. "Great work, Rook."

While they set about filling their vials, Davrin sat against one of the cave walls and eased his pauldron off. The metal came away sticky with blood.

It was his right shoulder, thankfully. He had some bandages, but he would have to wad some up to put pressure on the wound. With such a limited supply... "Rook, are you done? Come here for a second."

True to form, Rook didn't speak or make any noise. One moment he was looking at the bandages and the next they were simply there.

"There you are. You're hurt, aren't you? Let me wrap your wound. We can get it taken care of properly back at the fortress."

Rook didn't move or respond for a long moment before finally sitting next to him and rolling up their ruined sleeve.

At the end of their glove and peaking up past their elbow was a long cut. It wasn't terribly deep, but the bleeding had started again when they moved their sleeve.

"Alright, hold still." He was glad he asked before tending to his own wound as the cut was much longer and took more bandages than he expected. He moved slowly, wrapping the white cloth carefully over the cut. Rook held perfectly still as he worked. "There, not too tight, is it?"

Rook's fingers twitched, then curled. "No." Silently, as they did so many things, they took the bandages from him.

"You don't have to-" Their gaze was enough to silence him. They held eye contact for a few seconds before their gaze dropped back to the bandages, wordlessly bunching some up.

"Hold this." Rook picked up his opposite hand to press the bandages against the wound, fingers skimming down his wrist as they pulled away. A moment later they started wrapping it, nudging his hand out of the way. There was only enough left for a few loops, but it was tight enough to put pressure on it and much neater than Davrin could do on his own.

"Thank you." His smile was more genuine than expected. The night had gone poorly, but Rook stopped it from getting worse. The entire group of recruits had seemed like assholes, but Rook really was just shy.

They nodded, leaving him to pull his pauldron back on and start the long walk back.

Thankfully, they didn't run into any trouble. Davrin spoke only shortly with senior Howe, handing off the darkspawn blood, and soon enough he was opening the door to the infirmary.

"What have you done this time?"

"It wasn't my fault," Davrin responded automatically, though a small twinge of guilt reminded him that he was the one who asked Erwin to protect Ragna instead of going himself. He thought that between Erwin, Rook, and Ragna, they'd have a better chance of defeating the hurlock than Erwin would killing two genlocks on his own. The snap decision didn't allow for him to think of the animosity between Ragna and Erwin or where Rook even was.

They stood a step behind him now, awkwardly cradling their bandaged arm.

"I rather doubt that," Velanna responded, eyeing them both with contempt.

She was one of the rudest elves Davrin had ever met. He sometimes envied her, but he didn't want to damage the order's reputation. That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate her attitude.

"Genlock got me while I was distracted," he admitted. "Rook caught a sword to the arm as well."

Velanna sighed, but easily went about preparing a poultice. Davrin stepped inside to sit on one of the cots while Rook lingered in the doorway. He patted the spot beside him and they slowly slinked over, settling on the edge as though ready to run.

"Let me see it, you fool." Velanna didn't wait for permission, setting the bowl of elfroot and powdered bulbs to the side while she roughly unwrapped his shoulder. "Did you even clean this?" She sneered.

"No, actually." Davrin had brought them straight to the infirmary when they arrived. The ceremony would take place in the morning, before breakfast, and while it was sometimes discouraged to waste supplies on a recruit that might die soon... Well, he didn't care.

"Of course you didn't." Velanna sighed, moving to fetch a bowl of water and a cloth. "If you wrap the wound before cleaning it, it will only get infected."

"I thought stopping the bleeding might be more important. There's not exactly an excess of water out there." He considered pouring some out from his canteen, but he ended up drinking it all on the walk back to Weisshaupt.

Velanna only clucked her tongue, grabbing his arm to scrub away whatever dirt or bacteria had made its way into the wound. She worked quickly, smearing the poultice over top before rewrapping his shoulder so tightly he thought it might cut off circulation. Velanna was not a healer, but her knowledge from being a Keeper had her playing medic in the infirmary every few weeks.

"There. Now, what's wrong with you?"

"Just a swipe from a hurlock, remember?" Davrin answered when Rook recoiled at her question. "Long, but not very deep."

"You didn't clean it either, did you?" Velanna huffed a sigh. "Well? Go on, show me."

Rook glanced at Davrin before pushing up their sleeve to show her the bandages. Velanna took them by the wrist and methodically unwound the bandages, working more slowly than she had with Davrin.

"You'll live," Velanna commented dryly before setting to work washing the wound. She moved the cloth in small, gentle circles, turning their arm ever so slightly to get to their elbow. She dropped the cloth a moment later and slathered the cut with the poultice before wrapping their arm with fresh bandages. Davrin was pleased to note Rook's shoulders had relaxed while she worked, no longer halfway to jumping off the cot.

"Thanks, Velanna. Are you coming to the ceremony tomorrow?"

"I suppose." Velanna's mouth twitched. She could pretend all she liked, but Davrin knew she had a soft spot for Valya, just like half the fortress. He stood up, Rook following a moment later. "If that's all, then please get out. I'd like to sleep before watching the children make poor life choices."

"See you tomorrow!" Davrin waved as they walked away. He thought he heard Rook mumble, 'thank you'. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Rook looked to him briefly before shrugging.

"Nervous about the Joining?"

There was a beat of silence. "No."

"That's good. Some people think having a positive attitude helps." He knew Reimas was one of them. She only committed to the Joining when she was certain. Caronel had been the one to help her collect darkspawn blood, too.

Rook's nose wrinkled under their mask, slowing to a stop at one of the hallway's intersections. "What does the Joining... do?"

"Ultimately, it lets you sense darkspawn and makes you resistant to the taint," he explained slowly. "But it's dangerous, too. A third of recruits don't make it through the Joining."

They nodded, shifting restlessly for a moment. "Why did you become a Warden?"

"It's cliche, but I wanted to help people." It was true, at least. "My clan is strong and any one of them could defend themselves if necessary, but what about everyone else? The people who aren't allowed to fight or simply aren't strong enough?" The Keeper didn't strictly like the idea of another one of of her clan leaving, but she let him go. "I miss my clan, my family, but I don't regret becoming a Warden."

Rook seemed to consider this carefully, nodding slightly to themself.

"What about you? Why'd you choose to come here?"

They hesitated and for a moment he thought they wouldn't say anything at all. "Senior Howe," they spoke slowly. "Has treated me respectfully and when he offered me a choice, I agreed."

It was incredibly vague, but he understood. Valya often spoke of how kind most of the Wardens were, how seeing Garahel's sarcophagus still took her breath away. Elves were never the heroes. History censored every elf from the Canticle of Shartan to Inquisitor Ameridan. "I hope you find a place here." Rook tipped their head up to smile at him, only noticeable due to the crinkle of their eyes, and he couldn't stop himself from offering, "Come sit with us at breakfast tomorrow. You can meet some of the other Wardens."

"If I survive, that is." They didn't laugh it off like most people would.

"If you do, you can meet the griffons."

"Griffons?" They repeated, eyes wide. "They're real?"

"You haven't seen them yet?" Rook shook their head. "Something to look forward to, then. Get some sleep, Rook."

"Goodnight, Davrin."

Davrin woke up far too early the next morning, slipping into the dining hall and lurking at the edges as the Commanders whispered to themselves. He hadn't been nearly as nervous for his own Joining-he had stepped up first and drank before he could see anyone else die to the ritual. Since then, he'd become all too familiar with the dangers. There was a reason Wardens didn't get attached to new recruits.

Rainier found him before the ritual began, coming to stand at his side in a show of solidarity. "Never gets easier, does it?"

"I don't know how you can stand recruiting anyone," Davrin admitted. Wardens were trickling in at the edges of the ritual site. They stood at the front of dining hall far away from the tables, sunlight just barely starting to peek through the arrow slits along the walls. "These people are submitting themselves to death and we can only watch."

"If we didn't, more people would die. We've done everything we can for them now." Rainier clapped him on the back. "Who were the recruits you took yesterday?"

"Ragna, Erwin, and Rook. Ragna's a mage and Erwin's a templar. I think they might've been from the same circle." There was a tension there that wasn't just from their preconceived biases. They hated each other for a reason.

"Hm. I heard rumors that Ragna is a blood mage and Erwin was recruited after slaying an abomination. Could put them at odds."

"If she is, she didn't advertise it yesterday." Davrin looked for them in the crowd, but none of the recruits had arrived yet. "What about Rook?"

Rainier raised an eyebrow. "Nothing concrete, just nasty rumors. People are saying they're a Crow or were conscripted out of execution. All I heard from Howe was he found them at the Tevinter border."

Valya entered then, followed by Padin. Padin was hunched over, shoulders high to her ears while Valya dragged her over to Eilfas. The Senior Enchanter hadn't undergone the Joining, but he stayed at Weisshaupt as a consultant. Berrith was with him, dragging both Valya and Padin into a hug.

"They don't seem the type. They're skilled, but..."

"I believe you," Rainier said easily. "Just what's going around."

Ragna entered and Erwin appeared a moment later, almost as if he was waiting to follow her.

Commander Dernheim stepped out. Almost as if summoned by his presence, Davrin spotted Rook at the edge of the room a moment later.

"The Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight when humanity stood on the verge of annihalation, so it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint." Everyone had quieted at his words. The other Commanders lingered behind him, showing support to their recruits. "As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory." Dernheim held the chalice up, but Davrin kept his eyes on Valya. "We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first: 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 and should you perish, know your sacrifice shall not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

He allowed only a moment of silence after his speech.

"Padin, step forward." Padin stepped away from Valya, straightening to her true height as she approached the Commander. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good." As the chalice pressed to her lips, he announced, "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

Padin swallowed once, twice, clutching her throat after she pulled away from the chalice. Dernheim took it without a word, watching as she gasped for breath and eventually collapsed.

It was Velanna who came forward to check her pulse. "She's alive." A short round of applause swept through the crowd. Eilfas stepped forward to carry Padin to one of the benches, gently sweeping the hair away from her face.

"Valya, step forward."

Davrin didn't hear a single word from that moment on.

Valya came forward proudly and held the chalice as though it were a fine wine. At Dernheim's word, she drank.

She handed the chalice back, shoulders heaving. She gasped quietly and starting shaking throughout her entire body, eyes rolling in her head as she fell backwards.

He knew it was a normal reaction, but his heart still lurched in his throat as Reimas rushed forward to check on her.

"Alive," she announced, voice dripping with relief. Davrin nearly collapsed where he stood.

Reimas set her on the bench near Padin. It would probably be more comfortable to take them to the infirmary or their rooms, but it was honestly more convenient to do this in the dining hall where everyone could watch and have breakfast immediately afterwards. It wasn't as though any tincture or potion could help, so it didn't matter where they did it.

"Ragna, step forward. You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good," Dernheim repeated. Davrin wondered if he ever got sick of all the ceremony. "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

Ragna fell forward and Davrin knew she was dead. She had died clutching her stomach, eyes wide open and now unseeing as she stared at the crowd. Howe solemnly moved her body to the side.

"Erwin, step forward." Erwin drank before Dernheim could finish his speech. He took big hiccuping breaths as he shook and eventually fell to one knee. From there he slumped forward, lifeless.

"Rook, step forward."

They moved without a sound. Slow, but certain. Swift and silent. They walked like a hunter that knew it didn't matter if their prey noticed them.

They took the chalice confidently, chin tilted up to meet Dernheim's eye as he spoke. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good." They pulled down their mask, though Davrin couldn't see their face from the distance. They tipped back the chalice, the long line of their throat revealed as they drank like it was the sweetest water. "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

Dernheim took the chalice from them as they swayed. They kept their feet under them for long enough that Davrin almost thought they wouldn't pass out. Then they fell all at once, like a puppet with its strings cut. Their head lolled to the side where they had fallen backwards.

No one came forward to check on them. He doubted anyone other than he, senior Howe, and Velanna had ever spoken to them.

Davrin met Velanna's eye before he stepped forward, crouching to sneak his fingers under their mask where it hung loosely around their neck. Their pulse jumped under his fingers, fast, but strong. "Alive," he announced, earning scattered applause.

He gently tugged their mask back up over their nose before tucking one arm around their shoulders and another under their knees. They were easy to carry despite being unconscious.

Davrin set them down near Valya. They had promised him breakfast, afterall.

Chapter Text

Rook's mouth tasted like blood.

Every time they ate a bit of porridge, they tasted blood. Bitter, brackish. It felt as though the Joining had made them aware of every bone in their body as they breathed, each creak of their ribs and spine as they took another bite.

It tasted like blood.

The Warden's Oath amulet was heavy against their collarbone.

The dark haired templar and the mage had been joined by another elf with curly blond hair. His voice had caught their attention, stressing, 'Valya, I thought I was going to faint' before the chatter faded from their mind. They sat outside while Davrin... Davrin went to do something.

Listening was difficult. Speaking was harder. Remembering came and went as reality reinforced itself in waves.

"I wasn't expecting so many recruits," Valya admitted. It took a moment to process sound into words. She held some sort of seeded roll in her hand, a small bite taken from the edge revealing an airy crumb. "Do you know anything, Caronel?"

There was a swish of hair as Caronel shook his head, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. "Nothing yet. The First Warden's likely waiting for all of the Wardens to arrive before he does anything."

Reimas grunted in response, her own breakfast still untouched. Normally, Rook would wait to eat, but there was a gnawing in their stomach that was unlike any other. It was worse than the occasional day or two without food or the simplicity of forgetting to eat. Their body demanded things of them now, split skin and empty stomach crowing for attention instead of fading into the background as it once did.

They occasionally had the presence of mind to wonder what had happened to them before it slipped away.

"It's obvious that something is wrong." The templar had a soft, elegant voice, hard consonants falling away under her accent. "Even the southern Wardens were requested."

Rook scraped their spoon through the watery remains at the bottom of their bowl. It tasted like blood. The thought seemed familiar. "Nothing's happened," Valya disagreed.

"That we know of."

"Rook!" Their head picked up at Davrin's voice, turning to see him approach. At his side were two...

Well, they must have been griffons. Hadn't he mentioned something about griffons?

One walked calmly towards Valya, ignoring Rook entirely. It had a strange, fluffy white tail that swished back and forth as it climbed over her, before recoiling as though struck.

The beast hissed as it backed away, Valya's hands flinching away from its scruff. The other kept pace with Davrin, its feathers a smoky grey. It paused for just a step when it made eye contact with them, then leaped forward to circle them with curiosity.

"That's Assan." Davrin's voice seemed far away as they lifted a hand to the beast's beak. It sniffed them, first their hand and then down their arm and up to their throat where their mask hung.

If they had the presence of mind to notice, they would have seen Davrin's eyes freeze on their face.

As it was, Assan chirruped at them and pressed its face into their palm like a cat.

"Seems like he likes you," Davrin commented, an odd note to his voice. They looked up at the sound, eventually connecting 'you' to Rook, themself.

Were they supposed to answer that? They never had to speak much before. Whatever answers were necessary, their master would pull from their mind.

The thought clicked: that was what was wrong with them. Blood magic. Their master had made them his personal puppet. Just as easily, the realization slid away, as if they had never thought of it in the first place.

Their mouth tasted like blood.

"I think Crookytail is upset about the Joining," Valya piped up. The griffon sat a couple of yards away from them all, watching her with sharp eyes. "I know Isseya's journal mentioned they reacted poorly to her when she was close to her Calling, but..."

"You just smell different, now. He'll come around." Davrin made a show of ruffling Assan's feathers, the beast squawking at him and headbutting his arm. Rook hadn't realized they'd stopped petting it. "The Roostmaster was worried, you know. Maybe you shouldn't have left him your notes on griffons grieving right before undertaking the Joining."

"I was just being prepared!" She protested.

"Wait, what do you mean about griffons grieving?" Caronel was frowning, twisting to look at Crookytail.

"Well, in some cases they become withdrawn and difficult-"

"Some never accept another rider," Davrin added. "Or they go mad, injuring themselves and others in the process."

"I think that was only during fights." Valya's voice was weak, not daring to meet Caronel's glare.

He opened his mouth as though to speak when another voice interrupted them. "There you are, Davrin."

Rook pulled their mask back up, unsure why they felt the need.

"Great, we've found him. Now what is this about?" Velanna drawled. Rook met her eye briefly and managed a small nod in greeting. They swore they could hear their spine shifting in their neck.

"Warden Ramesh!" Davrin waved to them both, having come to sit down next to Assan. The beast sat beside him, curled in such a way that allowed Rook to sink their fingers into its soft, smooth feathers. "What can I do for you?"

Ramesh had no reservations about sitting on the ground, dropping down heavily across from their group. Velanna remained standing, arms crossed and generally impatient.

"I need to ask you two about some Elven carvings I saw." Velanna perked up at that. "Just trying to finish my report for the Commander."

"Your report?" Valya piped in. "Then is this about...?"

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them.

"Jovis, yes." Ramesh took a deep breath and sighed immediately afterwards. "His entire expedition was found dead or... well, we'll get to that I suppose."

"You mentioned Elven carvings," Velanna emphasized the word oddly. "What on earth did you find?"

"Ruins, I guess. Hormak, if the dwarven runes are to be believed. Elven carvings past a Dwarven thaig."

"That's not entirely unheard of," Davrin put in. His and Rook's hands bumped together where they both stroked Assan. He flashed them a small smile and Rook averted their eyes, tugging their mask further up their nose. "Clan Sabrae said there were elven artifacts inside of some human ruins in the Brecilian Forest. They even found an eluvian."

"The Cadash thaig, as well. The previous Commander of Vigil's Keep found elven lanterns there left by refugees of Arlathan. There should be a report somewhere in the library."

"It was more than just some refugees." Ramesh's hand flexed uselessly on his knees. "It was entirely elven architecture. The carvings... just, millions of tiny jewels set into stone." He took another deep breath. "Tell me if this sounds familiar: a carving of elven rulers with people prostrating before them. Mages... drawing disease from the sick. Aravels pulled by halla towards different mountains."

"That's very vague," Velanna started with. "What did the rulers look like?"

Ramesh shrugged. "Just elves. Nothing identifying."

"It was probably a temple to one of the gods, right?" Davrin leaned back on his palms. "Maybe Sylaise? She was the one who taught elves how to heal."

The Vir Atish'an. Their mother would whisper about Sylaise while they mended clothes and stoked the stove's fire.

"Ghilan'nain's symbol is the halla," Velanna added. Rook, in a moment of clarity, noticed her vallaslin. She and Davrin were both Dalish elves, just as their mother had spoken of. How had they not noticed until now? "And Dirthamen was told to have protected a city in the mountains by creating the varterral."

"It could be Andruil, as well." The words fell from their lips easily, the sensation almost strange in its rarity. They had enough presence of mind to be aware that they only had a few precious moments of clarity and little idea of how to bring them about. "She was the one to turn Ghilan'nain into a halla."

"See, that's what I was worried about." Ramesh dragged a hand down his face before anyone else could speak, though Rook caught Davrin watching them curiously.

"Dare I ask?" Velanna did, in fact, ask. "Why are elven carvings so important to this massacre you speak of?"

"Jovis," Ramesh started and then stopped. "Jovis," he repeated before his lips pressed together tightly.

"Take your time," Davrin suggested. "I know you and Jovis... well, it can't have been easy."

"What exactly happened?" Rook asked, pawing through their own hazy memories of only moments before. Ramesh had already mentioned Jovis and how his expedition was found dead.

"Warden Jovis and five other Wardens were on a mining expedition." A mining expedition? Baffling. From what little Rook remembered about the Wardens, they didn't seem like common miners. "A little over a month ago, now. None of them came back." Valya chanced a glance at where Ramesh sat, staring at his feet.

"Ramesh and another Warden, Lesha, went to investigate," Caronel continued on her behalf. "Whatever was there... Did you manage to kill it?"

Ramesh steeled himself to speak. "It wasn't just monsters or even plain old darkspawn. There were darkspawn earlier in the cave, but they had wings and scorpion tails. We found signs of the expedition, some guard fires and writing. It said-" His breath caught. "That they'd left three days ago and weren't planning on coming back."

"They knew they were walking into danger," Caronel surmised. "Some sort of trap?"

The gentle prodding was enough for him to continue. "Worse. Inside... we found Jovis." Everyone tensed, including Rook. A statement like that meant one of few things-death would be the kindest. If alive, he had probably betrayed his people. There was also the chance Jovis had been changed, twisted, by either demons, blood magic, or corruption. A fate worse than death. "He... He was... attached," Ramesh spat the word out like poison. "To a gigantic centipede."

Well, it could be blood magic, they supposed. Tevinter magisters had honestly done weirder things.

"When you say attached...?" It was obvious that no one wanted to press for details, but Davrin managed to voice their collective question.

"A part of. Fused together."

"Ramesh, I'm so sorry." The Warden silently inclined his head to Valya.

"It was the worst thing I've ever seen, but that's why I need to tell you." Ramesh closed his eyes before speaking again. "There was a great grey pool in the chamber, lit by a massive lyrium crystal. Jovis was still somewhat coherent and we'd found Recruit Friedl earlier, but she'd clawed her own eyes out and eventually chewed through her wrists. I don't know about the rest, but I assume they were all transformed by that pool. Jovis said darkspawn transformed just touching it, but the Wardens had to drink."

Why would the Wardens drink it? Were they trapped and without rations? Or losing against the darkspawn desperately enough to attempt the transformation, themselves?

They clearly knew what was down there before they set out, seeing as they didn't have any plans to come back.

"The carvings," Rook tried to redirect. Whatever else there was, he hardly needed to relive it now. "Ghilan'nain was said to have created monsters no one had ever seen before."

Davrin touched his own vallaslin self consciously, but nodded. "Supposedly, she got rid of them all except a few she favored, like the halla."

"It's always been assumed that Ghilan'nain becoming a halla was a reference to shapeshifting magic." Now that they thought of it, Velanna was a mage. If she was Dalish, was she a Keeper or a First? Either way, she would know more about the gods than they did. "If this 'pool' truly is elven in nature, then it's possible..."

"I didn't want to mention it, but the carvings made it look like the aravels were prisons. Maybe even transporting the sick elves from the earlier carvings."

"You know," this entire conversation was uncomfortable in multiple ways. "People did ask not to become Andruil's prey."

Davrin and Velanna both looked as uncomfortable as they felt.

"She was known to hunt mortals," Davrin admitted. "And Ghilan'nain was her lover."

"I know this can't be an easy subject." As if it were any easier from Ramesh, who lived it. "I can't imagine how I'd feel if I found a temple to Andraste with those things inside."

"We've always known the gods weren't strictly..."

"Kind," Velanna finished for Davrin. "But I suppose it's different to consider it in reality."

"The carvings showed eleven more mountains," Ramesh explained. "Whatever it is, we have to destroy them all."

"Agreed." Velanna's face was pinched as she spoke. "I'll write to Keeper Ilshae's successor to see if they know anything."

"I'll write to Keeper Elindra as well. Maybe even Orzammar and Kal-Sharok."

"Kal'Hirol, as well." Velanna paused. "You said there were eleven more?"

"From what I could tell."

"Hormak was one of twelve great thaigs," Velanna explained. "The numbers match. If I'm right, then Orzammar, Kal-Sharok, and Kal'Hirol could all be in great danger."

"Fenedhis!" Davrin cursed, quickly looking like he regretted it. His voice was far more subdued when he added, "Sorry. You know, Evka's from Orzammar. She might be able to tell us something when she gets back."

"Sigrun is too, as you very well know."

Davrin automatically raised his hands in surrender. "I know that, I only meant that Evka might still have some connections there."

"The Legion of the Dead are perfectly respectable warriors and twice as useful as any noble." Clearly, this was personal for her.

"We'll send word to them as well. I'm sure Sigrun will be happy to see them again."

... Rook honestly didn't know what the Legion of the Dead were.

"I'll finish my report to Commander Dernheim." Reimas went to help Ramesh up, the man's knees cracking dramatically as he stood. He must have been injured if the hunch of his shoulders was anything to go by. "The rest of you have better things to do, I'm sure."

Now that they thought of it, what did Wardens do in absence of a Blight? No one had given them any work to do, though it may be since it was their first day as a Warden.

"Valya, did you want to help me train with Assan? Maybe it'll help Crookytail warm up to you again." Davrin had helped Valya to her feet as well, her small hand tucked into one of his while she used her staff to keep her balance. Velanna was already walking away with a purposeful stride.

"That sounds wonderful." Valya offered him a smile before stooping down to pick up everyone's bowls. The mention of the griffons seemed to alievate the dark atmosphere to some extent. To their surprise, Davrin extended a hand to them a moment later.

"You're welcome to come watch, if you like." Davrin offered as Rook managed to grasp both Davrin's hand and why he was offering it. He pulled them to their feet easily. "If you're not busy?"

They should be, but they had no idea where to start. Blood magic was forbidden and very few people survived such acts. Researching the after effects of long term compulsion spells would be difficult at best and dangerous at worst. They would have to study their own behavior, record whatever moments of lucidity they had. How to do so, they weren't entirely certain.

Of course, Rook didn't mention this. They shook their head.

"Any plans?" They could hear Caronel ask. Davrin smiled.

"Is that a yes or a no to joining us?"

"Checking on the goats," Reimas replied in the background. "And you?"

"Yes," Rook managed to answer.

Valya whistled for the griffons and, to her obvious relief, both fell into step behind her. Reimas took the bowls from her with a nod, leaving with Caronel and Ramesh. Davrin finally dropped their hand, wordlessly gesturing for them to follow.

The sun was already starting to bake the earth, but the outdoor practice field was partially shaded by the fortress' shadow. There were weighted cane bundles and various practice weapons along with padded training dummies.

Davrin hefted up a large wooden shield while Valya set down her staff in favor of an unadorned practice staff. It looked like a tree branch, honestly.

"Crookytail," Valya called. The beast was already watching her, wary. Valya flung out a simple arcane bolt which struck one of the training dummies. "Attack!"

Crookytail hesitated, but raced past Valya to tackle the dummy. A moment later, a barrier washed over it, though it seemed to avoid Valya's small spells well enough.

They couldn't look away.

Each flash seemed to spark the taste of a memory they couldn't fully summon. The sight must have once been common, evoking images of Minrathous' brightly lit streets, but for some reason the thoughts all seemed to slide away from their mind.

Only present enough to realize they were slipping again.

"Hey, are you alright?" Davrin asked quietly. Rook had hardly realized he was still standing next to them at the weapon racks. "What senior Ramesh said..."

It took too long to remember who Ramesh was and longer still to recall the conversation. "I should be asking you that," they managed. There was some reassurance in the fact they could still answer. "Do you really think those caves are ancient elvish?"

"I do. Nothing else makes sense." Davrin shifted his shield in his grip, readjusting the weight. "What about you? You seemed to know a bit about the Evanuris."

Once again, memories of their mother bubbled to the surface. A smile rose to their face unbidden-here they were, speaking with a free elf like their mother always told stories about. "My mother told me about the Dalish. She even lived with them for a time before she was captured again."

"That's awful." Was it? It must have been, but Rook didn't feel half as devastated as Davrin looked. "Do you know which clan? I'm sure they'd want to know what happened to her."

It was unsettling, not knowing if they didn't know or simply didn't remember. Something was keeping their memories from them along with who knew what else. "I'm not sure," they ended up saying. The brief moment of clarity was gone-their own voice sounded as though underwater. Some part of them knew they should say something else, but nothing came to mind and it suddenly didn't seem so important.

"I have to write to my Keeper, anyways. I can ask if any of the clans mentioned something like that. Is she...?"

Rook startled at Davrin's hand on their shoulder, confused by the reassuring squeeze. He must have been saying something, they supposed. Finally, Davrin went to the practice field to run drills.

They didn't know how long they blankly watched him and Valya give simple commands like 'hunt' and 'attack' before Davrin crouched down, patting his shield while repeating the word, 'up'.

"Come on, up," he said again. "Jump?"

Assan tilted its head and hopped in place.

"So close." Davrin reached one hand out to ruffle its feathers. "Jump up."

Assan hopped forward with a confused chirp.

"Adorable," he praised, scratching under its chin. "But no."

"Can I try?" Rook asked, barely hearing themself. Some part of them itched at the unanswered command.

"Sure, but don't expect much. Griffons usually only listen to their riders." Davrin adjusted the shield to a flatter angle as Rook stalked towards them. "Did you want to grab a shield?"

"No, just stay like that. And say, 'jump'."

"Jump?"

Rook thought Davrin may have realized what was happening sometime in between him speaking and their foot hitting the shield.

In an impressive show of strength, Davrin only buckled for a moment before raising the wooden board up high enough for Rook to jump up, flip, and land in a roll. Dust covered their clothing, but thankfully didn't slip under their mask to their mouth.

Assan screeched in excitement, running around them and hopping into the air. It didn't seem to be able to fly yet, instead managing a high jump like a cat before gliding downwards.

Rook stepped backwards, motioning for Davrin to crouch again. He rolled his shoulder once before kneeling, angling the shield out for the griffon. "Assan." Rook clicked their tongue when it didn't pay attention the first time, pointing towards Davrin's shield. "Jump."

Assan stepped forward uncertainly, glancing back at Rook. "Come on, Assan, jump!" Davrin called.

The griffon darted forward, claws scraping against the shield as Davrin raised it into the air. Assan's wings flared as it lunged, then landed near Rook.

"Yes!" Davrin called, dropping his shield in his excitement. "That was amazing!"

His arms wrapped around Rook and tugged them against his chest. Rook's hands hovered uselessly in the air, frozen as Davrin held them close.

"I've been working on that for months," he explained as Rook tentatively returned the hug. Davrin pulled back far enough to look them in the eye with a wide smile. "You're a genius."

Rook's heart jumped in their chest and they silently adjusted their mask to cover more of their face, not daring to meet his eye any longer. The action stirred up dust and Davrin pulled away, clapping them on the shoulder.

"That was really impressive. Do you think Reimas could do that?" Valya interrupted, Crookytail trailing after her with a curious expression.

"I don't see why not. You were planning for her to be your second rider, right?"

"It would be easier for me to ride behind someone while casting," Valya confirmed. "Crookytail likes her as much as he does anyone."

"That's a good idea. Have any of the other griffons claimed a rider?"

"I don't think so. The First Warden's waiting to see how we do with Crookytail and Assan."

"I really think it would be better to get them all used to their riders while they're still young." Assan seemed to prove Davrin's point by curling its tail around his leg when it sat beside him.

"It isn't entirely practical," Valya admitted. "The longer a griffon is bonded with a Warden, the more likely they are to die and Wardens tend to travel. We're lucky to have been stationed at Weisshaupt for so long."

"Oh, that reminds me, I have to escort a shipment to Hossberg tomorrow." Davrin looked over his shoulder at them. "Rook, do you want to come with me?"

Rook nodded. They liked spending time with Davrin. They couldn't remember liking anything before.

Chapter Text

To Keeper Elindra,

The letter stopped there. Despite fiddling with his quill most of the night, he couldn't manage a single sentence that wasn't borderline blasphemous. He wanted to beg the Keeper for explanation, for an answer that wouldn't paint his god in the blood of his comrades, but he knew that even her knowledge of ancient Elvhenan was limited.

Velanna was likely having different problems than him. She was exiled, her former Keeper dead. He assumed the clan's second ascended in her place. She wouldn't bother with framing their request nicely, but neither was anyone likely to respond.

Davrin carried Ghilan'nain's mark, hunted monsters with her blessing, and cared for the griffons and halla in her name. As a hunter of clan Ralaferin, he should seek to preserve her works, but his loyalty to the Grey Wardens had to come first.

No, that wasn't true. He couldn't put his duties above his people, no matter what oaths he swore. The reality was that he was horrified by what Ramesh described: that kind of power was credited only to the gods themselves, which meant that it was Ghilan'nain, not her worshippers, that had created those pools.

The gods were never strictly good, not kind, but they were meant to be just. They were meant to protect the people.

Davrin had never really thought of Ghilan'nain as more than a story. Now, he felt nearly betrayed. Each scratch of his quill seemed to echo in the quiet room.

To Keeper Elindra,

Aneth ara, hahren. I regret that I do not write to you with better news. It seems that twelve of Ghilan'nain's temples have fallen to corruption, the nature of which can only be destroyed.

I know that it's unlikely, but if you have any information regarding sites of worship for Ghilan'nain or elven civilizations in the mountains or thaigs, please write back. The danger cannot be overstated, though any brave hunters in the area are welcome to join with the Wardens to record these places' history.

Suledin, Keeper,
Davrin

His shoulder ached by the time he was done writing. Practice yesterday had been harsh on his wounds and the stilted letter seemed to exacerbate the pain without even needing to write.

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Were the pools truly 'corrupted'? Or 'intended'?

A short knock on his door relieved him from the effort of editing his first draft. He should probably include some note on Rook's mother, though he had very little to go off of.

No sooner was the door open than Valya slipped inside.

"Good morning to you, too." Davrin hadn't seen her since dinner yesterday. Rook was nowhere to be found, but the rest of the Wardens had celebrated the Joining's survivors the best they could. Good food, good drinks, and good company as Thom would say. Davrin vaguely recalled trying to teach Caronel and Valya the elven lyrics to Suledin before Caronel started singing something about leaving his non-existent wife for a mermaid. He'd stumbled back to his room and fell asleep at the desk sometime after writing 'To Keeper Elindra'.

"Are you taking Rook with you to Hossberg today?" Valya interrupted him before he could remember if he even had any of his conscription ale left.

"That's the plan." Not many people willingly traversed the Anderfels. Oftentimes, their shipments only went as far as Weisshaupt, leaving the Wardens to escort them the rest of the way to Hossberg. The city offered decent coin for the trip and Davrin always found odd jobs while he was there.

"I checked Rook's room last night," was her nonsensical explanation. "I couldn't tell their bed apart from Ragna or Erwin's. Senior Howe must have already cleaned out their things."

Oh. That.

"I thought as much." This was exactly why he was taking them to the city. What all did a person need? Another set of clothes, at least. Maybe better armor than the quilted outfit they wore now. It looked like lustrous cotton, which would just be typical of the Imperium, he supposed. "We can find everything they'll need in the city."

"They were a slave, Davrin," Valya stressed, her voice going high pitched towards the end.

"They're free, now." Whatever else, that was true. They were a Grey Warden. Tevinter's slavers couldn't even dream of making it into Weisshaupt fortress. The dark brand under their eye like a thick scar was now nothing more than a tattoo.

"I know." Valya lowered her head, coming to sit at his desk. She glanced at his letter to Keeper Elindra, but didn't comment. "I've never met a slave before."

Davrin sat down across from her on the bed.

"All of my life, I've heard about the horrors of Tevinter. How it's the perfect example of why mages can never be free." Valya's fingers tightened around her staff, her gaze glued to the floor. "I can't even imagine what they've been through or how to help them, if they'd even accept my help. Do you think that they...?"

"What is it, Valya?"

"I mean, do you think they dislike me?" Her voice was small. "They haven't really spoken to me."

"Or anyone," Davrin added. Now that he thought about it, Rook did seem reluctant to speak to him around the mages. They only truly opened up when they were alone and briefly while speaking to Ramesh. "I couldn't say, honestly. If they are, the best thing you can do is prove you can be trusted. That means letting them speak to you on their own terms."

"I know," Valya repeated miserably. "I understand. I read about some of the things Isseya did and... well, anyone would fear mages after that."

Davrin crossed the room to kneel in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her knee. He waited for her to meet his eyes before he spoke. "There is no reason to fear mages, only people with bad intentions."

"Isseya did have good intentions, though." He was starting to wish he'd read Isseya's journal. He really didn't have the context necessary for this conversation. "And she was still wrong."

"Well, don't practice blood magic, then, and you should be fine."

"I can still light people on fire."

"Give me a torch and oil and I can do the same." Davrin patted her knee once before standing. "Rook just needs time. They're not avoiding you or anything, they're just quiet." Way too quiet. Rook seemed to just appear in between blinks. "Was that all?"

"Yes, sorry. I'm sure you're busy." Valya stood and Davrin backed away to give her room.

"Not too busy for you. Give Assan my love, okay? I don't know how long we'll be in the city. A couple of days, at most." That should be enough time to find a decent hunt or two. If they split the coin, they should have enough for Rook to buy some casual clothes at the very least.

"Of course. Will you be joining us for breakfast?"

"I'm not sure." The deliveries arrived anywhere from morning to afternoon depending on the Anderfels' sense of humor. A dust storm could delay or even stop a shipment in its tracks. "Let me see if I can track down Rook, first."

"Good luck, Davrin." Davrin held the door open for her as she left. He grabbed his pack before he followed after.

Davrin's first stop was for another canteen and a variety of rations. There were thick crusted pastry pockets, filled with meat and potatoes, that he may have preferred even to Dalish jerky. The Wardens' jerky didn't have the same kick as his clan's, but he tucked it, along with some nuts and hardtack, into his pack.

The hardtack was only for worst case scenarios, in his opinion.

He took two elfroot potions from the infirmary along with some bandages. The potions were in short supply, but ideally they wouldn't need them. Lyrium was even rarer since Kal-Sharok refused contact despite its proximity. Minrathous traded with Orzammar, but kept most lyrium for itself. Despite its underground connection to the city, the trade routes were still long and the prices were extravagant.

A peek through one of the arrow slits along the walls revealed a cloud of dust marking the shipment's location. He couldn't make out the wagon or the people, but visitors were rare enough that it was almost certainly them. They would arrive at Broken Tooth within a few hours.

After securing his armor and weapons, he started looking for Rook. Their room was truly as empty as Valya had said, only a slight wrinkle in the blankets revealing which bed they had slept in. When he couldn't find them in the dining hall, he stepped outside.

To his surprise, both Reimas and Rook were already there. They ate in silence broken only by the crunch of bread.

"There you are, Rook." They looked up at him, but their gaze was distant. "Are you excited to see Hossberg?"

No answer.

From anyone else, he might be worried he had said something wrong.

Reimas filled the silence by asking, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Not yet. I think I'll eat on the way. Are you ready to go, Rook? We can ride out to meet them." Rook stood instead of answering and pressed a sweet roll into his hand. He was nearly surprised to see it-they tended to disappear before he woke up. "Thank you!" The first bite was honey-sweet, a rarity in the Anderfels. While the Wardens didn't completely eschew luxuries, things like sugar and fruit were still sparse. "Come on, the stables are this way."

Davrin waved goodbye to Reimas and led the way down to the stables. He had to check Rook was still following him every few seconds, their footsteps nearly silent.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?" Davrin fought the urge to check they were still there when they didn't answer. "Rook? Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"No," they finally answered.

"We can share, then." Davrin hadn't even seen a horse before coming to the Anderfels, but he at least had some experience with halla, though halla were far more intelligent. Thom had nearly died laughing when he had politely asked his first horse if he could trouble it for a ride. "If you don't mind?"

There wasn't really another option considering the Anderfels coursers were all proud, stubborn bastards. They weren't flighty, but strong willed. Getting thrown from one was bad enough and getting stepped on could kill. Wardens usually started by riding on one of the few Imperial warmbloods they had, which were as aloof and haughty as the Imperials themselves. The last he heard, the messengers had taken them all and still hadn't returned.

Rook, as usual, didn't answer.

He tried not to think about why as he was tacking up his favorite horse. Davrin had jokingly called it Shem for its speed, but it was really its gentle nature that counted. It didn't tend to buck or toss its head, only stopping or backing away when frightened.

With two riders, a saddle wasn't practical. In absence of stirrups, he swung his leg over the horse and twisted to pull himself on top of it. After he settled, he offered Rook a hand up, but they only stared in his general direction.

"Rook? Come on, I'll help you up." Their name seemed to catch their attention and a moment later they put their hand in his. "Just try to swing your leg over and I'll pull you up."

There was another moment of hesitation, but thankfully they managed to climb up on the first try. Shem didn't even seem too upset about it. For a horse used to carrying fully armored Wardens and their packs, another elf wasn't too much of an issue.

"Just lean against me and you'll be fine." Davrin waited for them to settle against his back, their head resting against his shoulder blade. It was surprisingly nice. After a few experimental steps, Shem started the long ride down the switchbacks. The road was steep enough that they had to ride nearing a snail's pace, but it would have been impractical to have the stables any further from the fortress.

Rook didn't speak when they met with the shipment, not even when Davrin climbed down to switch horses with the wagon's. They hopped down without complaint when Davrin explained they would be walking from then on so Shem could pull the cart. They didn't respond to or say goodbye to the traders though, when Davrin thought of it, it may have been because they were Tevene.

And when asked if they were okay, they only nodded.

Davrin wished he knew why. Even a small hint would have been helpful-he didn't think they were upset. They could have been tired, he supposed, but the behavior was common enough to seem like a personality trait. Then, without warning, they would light up. Their eyes would catch on his and they would smile or say something clever.

He was, admittedly, a bit worried. Maybe they only spoke when they had something important to say, but he had no way of confirming that or tempting them to talk.

It was only when they arrived in Hossberg that Rook took interest in anything.

The city boarded Shem for free on account of the work they were doing. Davrin had just finished speaking with the Wardens' contact in Hossberg, taking a few silver coins as payment, when he tried to pass half to Rook. They only stared at it for a moment before looking back at him, hand still open. It hurt to realize they were waiting for him to take it back.

"That's yours," he explained, trying to keep his voice soft without being outright pitying. "As payment for helping me with the job. We're going to see if there's any hunts so we can earn coin while we're here, alright?"

Rook nodded without delay this time, tucking their coin away into their boot. Their head swiveled as they walked to the chanter's board, taking in the city. Griffon statues dotted the walls, still standing strong after seven years of siege during the fourth blight. There were multiple chantries within spitting distance, including a small one attached to the Circle of Magi. The Anderfels were exceedingly Andrastian, though thankfully no one ever commented on his vallaslin as long as he occasionally threw in a, 'thank the Maker'.

"I always look for the monster sightings," he explained, pulling down a contract with what could have been either a giant spider or a bear sketched out. Maybe some strange fusion of both-that quickly stopped being funny when he thought of Jovis. "The others are usually lost items and the like."

From the corner of his eye, he could see Rook thumbing at the papers.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." The chanter next to the board sounded pleased with him so Davrin smiled awkwardly in return.

"Is this for collecting elfroot?"

Davrin's neck cracked with how quickly he turned to Rook. They were thumbing one of the contracts, looking as focused as they were yesterday.

"Looks like it," he confirmed. "There's a forest near the river with herbs. Pretty much the only green in all the Anderfels."

Rook hummed and let go of the paper.

"Where are we heading?"

"Nearby cave. Hey, do you think this looks more like a bear or a spider?"

Rook looked over his shoulder, chin bumping his arm as they walked back to the gate. "It's too big to be a spider."

"A giant spider," he clarified.

"That would be terrifying."

Well, he guessed they didn't have giant spiders in Tevinter. "I'm serious. Some cave spiders get to be as tall as wolves."

"How tall is a wolf?"

Davrin held out a hand around elbow height.

"... How tall is a bear?"

"About the same, some as tall as my shoulder. Easily as tall as a qunari when they stand on their hind feet, though." They passed the gate into the forest, the roar of the river crashing somewhere to the north of them. "Not much for camping, then?"

"I don't know." Davrin didn't press, though their non-answers were starting to become concerning. "I don't remember ever seeing animals like that. I've seen a dragonling before, though. One of the magisters wanted to keep it as a pet, but it grew so quickly they ended up slaughtering it for parts."

"Vints and Orlesians are like that. The shems are, anyways. They'll act like they're the only reasonable people in Thedas, then one of the ladies will decide to keep birds in her hair."

"The dragonling I understand, but birds? Why would she do that?"

"Apparently, feathers were in fashion." His glib answer earned a soft laugh.

He turned away from them to hide his grin.

It was a beautiful morning, outside of the fact he was baking in his armor. He took a drink from his canteen, listening to the rustle of leaves. If he shut his eyes, he could almost pretend he was home, the halla grazing beside him.

The thought of halla sent dread creeping up his spine once again. The halla were intelligent, but were they elves-made-into-monsters intelligent? He capped his canteen, trying not to think of all the times he heard the halla tender or Keeper Elindra refer to them as 'our brothers and sisters'.

It wasn't going well.

"Hey," Davrin started, then paused when he realized Rook wasn't where he thought they were. When he turned around he saw them walking towards him, soaked up to their knees.

He stopped moving completely then, only staring at them.

"Yes?" Rook answered with a little tilt of their head.

"... Was the river fun?" He settled on.

"It's cold."

"Right." A dip in the river did sound wonderful now that he thought of it. Too bad his armor would just pull him under. "I think that's the cave we're looking for."

The cave was part of a small, rolling hill and low enough to the ground that he suspected a bear or a wolf would have trouble squeezing inside.

Which meant spiders. It was always spiders.

"I'll go in first. If it's spiders, aim for the legs. Some of these are venomous, so try not to get bitten or spat on."

"Spat on?" Rook repeated.

"They collect venom in their mouths and then-well, safe to say, it burns." At least with the river nearby they could wash off their armor before it was damaged.

"Alright. What if it's a bear?"

It suddenly occurred to Davrin that Rook likely hadn't left the city before their presumable escape. They didn't hunt wolves, deer, or rabbit like a Dalish hunter would. Yet, they were an experienced fighter with fine weapons and armor, likely provided by their former master. They had never seen a darkspawn before, but easily found the weak spots on the humanoid monsters.

"I don't think it is. It would have to be a very small bear." His voice was surprisingly even despite his realization. It wasn't as though they had much of a choice in their prior profession, whether it was as a gladiator or assassin.

"If you say so." Rook unsheathed their daggers without a sound, wordlessly gesturing for him to take the lead.

The cave was dim and damp. Wild webbing and tightly spun cocoons that were disturbingly close to human sized hung from the ceiling. Sunlight only barely reached the entrance.

Davrin clanged his sword and shield together to a chorus of hisses echoing back at him.

The first spider hit his shield and dropped to the ground where he brushed it aside to aim for the next. He counted five spiders in total, the one hanging from his sword hardly bothered by its wound as its long legs caressed his chest plate in a desperate scramble.

Rook neatly cut off one of its legs and stabbed it in the neck.

Davrin was forced to bring his shield up against the first spider, bracing as it threw itself at him. The second slid off his sword with a cry closer to that of a bird, lunging at his unguarded flank while Davrin took off one of the other spider's legs.

Rook made a valiant attempt to help him, but only managed to cut off one more leg before a third spider jumped at them. They were able to kick it away, but the fourth tackled them to the ground.

The sound they let out was too short to be called a scream.

They pinned one of its legs while Davrin moved backwards towards them, shielding them from the remaining spiders to the best of his ability. They cut off one of the spider's legs, but couldn't throw it off no matter how hard they struggled. Davrin sent two spiders flying into the wall just as their second dagger hooked into its mouth and up to the arachnid's brain, spilling venom over their chest even as they killed it.

They shoved the corpse off and staggered to their feet, immediately running for the next spider. The injured spider, down to six legs, couldn't crawl backwards more than one step before they slammed their boot down on its head, crushing it underfoot.

The others were still too fast to target their weak spots, but with two less spiders overwhelming him, Davrin was able to neatly sever half of one's legs before chopping off its head. Rook danced away from another, bringing it within range for Davrin to stun it with his shield before skewering it.

"Where's the last one?" A low hiss was his answer, though thankfully not from Rook. Instinct allowed him to jump back just as a glob of venom struck the ground where he had been standing.

Clinging to the ceiling, the last spider was just out of reach.

"Hey, Rook?" Davrin started casually, stepping away from the next projectile. In the few seconds between attacks, he kneeled. "Jump!"

"You're kidding!" Despite their protests, their foot hit the edge of his shield and he lifted them up to jump at the spider. He wasn't really expecting them to hold onto it while dragging their dagger through its underbelly, but he supposed it worked as they both dropped to the earth. Rook landed far more neatly, though the spider did fall on top of them with a dying gurgle. "Ew."

"You can wash off soon, just let me take a trophy so we can prove we killed them." The legs they cut off were mostly in tact, so he tucked one into his pack. Given that all of the spiders had a full eight legs, he didn't think taking five would necessarily prove he killed five. The chanter wasn't usually stingy with payment and his reputation was good enough to be believed even without...

Rook had started neatly cracking off spider legs like they were common crabs.

"We really only need one," he tried to explain, somewhat weakly given that they had already gathered two of the spiders' legs into bunches.

"I know." They started breaking off the third's.

"Want to put them in my pack?"

"That would be nice, thank you." Soon, all forty spider legs had been tucked into his pack, bulging at the sides. "One more thing."

They set their dagger into one of the cocoons and sliced it open.

Davrin let out a strangled noise, stumbling backwards when the half decayed human corpse fell out.

Rook crouched down like this was expected, eyes running over the rotting body before reaching out. He couldn't quite see what they did, but they stood a moment later and cut open the next. Thankfully, it was empty outside of what may have once been a mage's staff. Rook picked it up, still covered in the cocoon's goo, and strapped it to their back.

"Ready."

They swung by the river on the way back. Davrin was only glad he hadn't been hit by any venom as taking his armor off to wash up would have taken ages. Rook, on the other hand, simply walked into a shallow section and kneeled to wash it off their chest. The fabric didn't look too damaged when they climbed out, though their boots squished every step of the way back to Hossberg.

This time, when Rook disappeared, he noticed. They veered towards the Circle when they entered the city and Davrin watched as they pulled out a bundle of elfroot from the neck of their mask. It was even still dry.

"Wow, thank you!" One of the mage's hands fluttered, glancing back at the templars before she took the herbs. "This is more than I could have asked for. Here, take this."

Rook tucked the handful of coin and a potion she'd given them away, returning to Davrin.

"That was the chanter's board contract? The one for elfroot?"

"I think so." They hesitated, glancing up at him before asking, "Can I have the other spider legs back now?"

"Of course. Do you mind if I turn in the contract first?"

Rook shook their head and followed him to the board where Davrin pulled out one of the spider legs to show the chanter. "Five giant spiders, all dead."

The chanter didn't dare break his vows to speak with him, but the raised eyebrow at the number of legs in his pack was enough. "All was silent in prayer and thanks." He inclined his head towards Davrin and handed him a coin purse. It was heavier than he expected.

"Sorry about that. You wanted the spider legs for something?"

Rook nodded, eyes darting to the chanter before they set out towards a tavern with what appeared to be an actual pint of ale attached to the sign. They paused at the entrance and came to stand behind him instead.

Davrin tried not to look confused as he opened the door.

Thankfully, it wasn't an ambush or anything else that required a warrior to be at the front. In fact, as soon as the door was opened, Rook approached the bar where a dwarf did a double take at the sight of them.

"Well, I'll be! Are those spider legs?" Rook nodded, pulling one of the exposed legs from Davrin's pack to show her. "These look perfect. I'll buy them off of you for five silver a piece."

That was two double griffons, altogether. Rook looked at him and he set his pack down, allowing them to pull out all forty legs and set them on the counter.

"You know, these are delicious fried. Did you two want to try some?"

Davrin made awkward eye contact with Rook. He'd eaten some truly unusual things as a Grey Warden, but he didn't really want 'venomous spider' to join the list.

"Maybe later," Rook responded, neatly tying Davrin's pack back up before sliding the two gold into their boot. They should really buy a coin pouch while they were here, though he supposed they could use the one the chanter handed him. "I still have a few things to turn in."

"You do?" Davrin shouldered his pack and waved to the bartender as they left, Rook opening the door for him this time. He was somewhat impressed and slightly disturbed by their efficiency.

Rook only hummed, pausing in an intersection to look around before setting off to the west. Davrin had no idea how they knew where they were going, but they stopped to pull a ring from their boot before approaching a mage lingering near the west gates. The moment her eyes caught sight of the staff on their back, her face crumpled.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Davrin caught on quickly, dithering before adding, "Falon'Din enasal enaste." He wasn't quite sure what the Andrastian blessings for the dead were. Something about the Maker, no doubt.

"Thank you, dear." Both her weathered hands clasped around the ring. "He just disappeared while we were collecting herbs. The templars haven't bothered to send anyone out since."

"We took care of the spiders that killed him," he explained while Rook handed her the staff they found. "The cave's just north east of here."

"I'll send the templars to go get him. It's the least they can do." The mage glared at the templar that loitered across the street, clearly keeping an eye on her. "Maker bless you both, children. You've done me a great service today." She slid the ring on next to her own, curling her fingers shut so they clinked together.

"No trouble, ma'am. Glad we could help." Davrin turned to Rook who set off towards their next stop, eyes scanning market stalls until they stopped at one of the tailors.

Without speaking, they pulled a box from their coat and set it far away from his wares. This was probably a good thing as the box was soaking wet.

"Maker's breath, I thought I'd never see this again." The merchant opened the box quickly, pulling out a delicate pearl necklace. "It was my mother's," he explained just as quick, tucking the pearls back into the box. "Dead for nearly a decade now and still causing me trouble."

"So, you threw her pearls in the river?" Davrin didn't really understand humans, sometimes. The Dalish wouldn't dare waste anything, not even bone and hooves. The Grey Wardens didn't have that luxury-darkspawn corpses weren't good for anything besides burning. Just another reason to hate the darkspawn-they didn't even have the courtesy to be edible.

"Well, yes." He at least seemed embarrassed about it. "It's just-apparently, my father isn't who I thought it was and she never even told me. I had to find out from one of her friends joking about my... ears."

Davrin tried not to wince too obviously. The last bit was said quietly and with too much shame for him to sympathize with.

"Payment?" Rook asked abruptly. He had to stifle a laugh as the man flustered.

"Yes, of course, thank you for finding this for me!" He passed them a small fee. "And, uh, a discount, if any of these clothes are to your liking."

"Hey, that's a good idea. Something to sleep in, at least." Davrin took the coin pouch the chanter gave him and slid half of the coin into his own. "You can use this to keep your coin in, if you want."

Rook took the pouch from him slowly, as if he was planning to snatch it away. A moment later, the tailor got to watch in utter befuddlement as Rook took off their shoe to shake the coin and water out of it.

They tried to hand him half, wearing one boot and damp despite the sun. Davrin gently pushed their hand away, trying for a smile. "Keep it. You did all the work, after all."

Their thumb skimmed over the edge of one coin. "I would never have even seen that board without you," they argued, looking up at him from under their hood.

"Buy me a drink and we'll call it even." The flippant response was nearly reflex, but Rook nodded like it was a formal contract before tucking their coin away.

"I don't think I need any new clothes." Rook picked at the edge of one sewn up sleeve. "These still work."

"Something lighter might be more comfortable." He scanned the tailor's stall, mostly rough cloth clothes for everyday wear. The few simple sleep clothes were made for humans. He took the smallest pair available and help the shirt up against Rook. "This might work. What do you think?"

Rook looked vaguely uncomfortable as they reached out to feel the shirt. "It's a shirt."

"Come on, wouldn't it be nice to have something other than armor to wear?" Calling it armor was polite in his opinion. It was a thick cloth, but still cloth. "What if you need to wash it or it's torn beyond repair?"

Rook's lips pinched together as they let go of the cloth, turning to count out their coins. "How much for the shirt and pants?"

"Three silver," the tailor answered immediately. "Is that purple armor really all you've got? Might want some everyday wear as well."

"No." Davrin tried not to laugh as Rook handed him three silver.

"Uh, alright then," the tailor muttered, pocketing the coin.

"Want anything else while we're here? Weisshaupt has some things, but it can't hurt to look." He put their new clothes in his pack, taking out some jerky to snack on, while they looked around.

"A bow, definitely. Another set of armor?" They took a tentative step towards the rest of the market, waiting for him to follow.

He should have expected this. No concern for basic necessities like a pack or bedroll. Even he wasn't entirely certain what all they needed. Things like socks, a winter coat, a...

Davrin paused by a stall with carefully crafted hair combs. They weren't by any means extravagant, but the wood was smooth and shiny.

He had seen a few locks of Rook's hair slip out. It was long in a way that seemed accidental and tangled from being kept under their hood. Combs were often seen as courting gifts, but the plain, unadorned ones kept in the stall seemed harmless enough.

"Excuse me, how much for one of these combs?"

"For you?" Davrin's head jerked up at the woman's voice. "Fifty bronze. I haven't forgotten about that ogre you killed."

Davrin smiled, fishing out a silver to pay her with before he could second guess the purchase. "Your work is worth far more than fifty bronze."

The merchant only raised an eyebrow and handed him fifty bronze as change. "I seem to recall we paid you with bread that year. My wife wouldn't stop fretting about it. Your work's worth more than that, as well."

It wasn't the people of Hossberg's fault the king refused to pay for the ogre's head. The Wardens didn't even receive word for two weeks as the ogre ate any messengers that passed through the gates. By then, the city was short on supplies, unable to leave the safety of their walls.

"It's our job to kill darkspawn." Despite his protest, he kept the bronze. "And the bread was delicious, by the way."

"My wife'll be happy to hear that. She works in the bakery near the east gates if you ever have a craving."

"I'll make sure to stop by and thank her. Have a good day!"

Rook was only a few stalls further in, stripped down to their undershirt to try on a leather vest meant to be worn with one of the stall's shirts with sleeves that cuffed just below the elbow. Their armor was draped over one arm, the other fiddling with the hem of the vest.

It was the first time he'd seen them without their hood.

They had dark, tangled hair that brushed their shoulders and fell carelessly over their eyes now that it wasn't restrained. They pushed their bangs away to smile at him, a small quirk of their mouth.

It was also the first time he'd seen their lips. The first time he'd seen their smile.

"Hey!" He subtly cleared his throat, glancing at the stall. The leather seemed to be of decent quality, perhaps bronto or ram. It would never compare to Dalish armor, but he kept that thought to himself. "Found something?"

Rook nodded, slipping the vest off. They piled a matching shirt and a pair of leather leggings on top of the vest and their armor. "How much?"

The merchant actually flinched back, eyes trained on their face. "What?" He squeaked.

Rook's eyes narrowed. "How much for this armor?"

"Fifty eight silver." The man's eyes darted to their daggers as they took out a double griffon coin. He reached for their change so quickly he spilled coin across the dirt, all three of them crouching to pick it up. "Thank you, um, sers."

"No problem," Davrin replied pleasantly. He didn't wait for them to be more than ten steps away before he asked, "I have to know, what in Thedas is written on your face?" Davrin, himself, didn't read or speak Tevene, though many merchants in the Anderfels did simply due to proximity. He thought it was just a slave's brand, but the merchant had obviously been afraid of Rook.

"It means I can't be tried for murder."

He managed not to choke on his own spit, but the garble of surprise he'd made was embarrassing. "I'm sorry, what?"

Rook graced him with a smirk, a hint of teeth flashing past their lips. "This marks me as property. I can't be tried for murder, the same as someone's mabari or horse. My master would be found guilty of reckless endangerment or criminal neglect, at worst."

"That's why the merchant was afraid of you?" No matter how often he came here, he rarely learned the shop keepers' names.

"Maybe. The brand is my master's name, so perhaps he recognized it."

"Your master," the word tasted bitter on his tongue, "was fairly well known, then?" Rook nodded, subconsciously scratching at the mark under their eye. "What was his name?"

"Is," Rook dodged the question. "He's not dead."

"All the more reason to tell me. We can make sure no one comes looking for you." No one had found them, yet, but that didn't mean no one was looking. Davrin didn't know enough about them to say how great the danger was.

Rook glared at nothing, sweeping their hair away from their face. "I couldn't tell you," they admitted eventually. "I can't read Tevene."

Davrin tried to keep his intake of breath as quiet a possible. Some monster had enslaved Rook for however many years and they didn't even know his name?

"Neither can I," he said instead of shouting about the injustice of it all. If he was grinding his teeth, it wasn't loud enough to hear. "A lot of Dalish elves never learn to read at all, but my clan has always been friendly with humans." As friendly as halla could be with wolves, at least.

"You mentioned writing to them. You're still a part of the clan, then?"

Davrin tried not to laugh. "We're not like dwarves or qunari. I may be a Warden, but I'll always have a home with my clan. What about you? Anyone to write to?" It was a dangerous question, but he hoped they did. They deserved something good, for once.

"Maybe?" Rook itched under their eye again, seemingly on instinct now that it wasn't covered by their mask. "I escaped with a few other slaves. I think... I left them in Vol Dorma. It would have been dangerous for me to stay."

"Were you very close?"

"No." Rook laughed, more of a huff through their nose. "You know, the only time I can remember seeing them is when I was washing blood out of my clothes. One of the women had to help me-I was so embarrassed. I wasn't even capable of a basic chore, one they all did nearly everyday."

"Uh, just to be clear, laundry or washing out blood?" Given that their master was a Tevene mage, it did need to be clarified.

Rook's eyes went distant, then. They stared unblinking at one of Hossberg's high walls even as they kept walking.

"I still need to buy a bow," they announced suddenly, pausing only long enough to spot the blacksmith's. They shrugged their original armor back on, pulled up their mask and pulled down their hood. That they did it all while carrying their new armor was somewhat impressive.

"You should buy a bag while we're here," he added. "Your new clothes are still in my pack."

Rook paused at the door again, but only glanced at him before pushing it open. The inside of the blacksmith's was hotter even than the beginnings of Summer outside. They quickly chose a long bow that looked like it could punch through plate armor and a sturdy quiver. The blacksmith gave them a discount for buying so many arrows and threw in an old sack when they mentioned needing a pack.

Davrin was thankful for the quick transaction. The air outside was slightly less roasting in intensity. He grabbed his canteen first and offered the other to Rook who drank deeply. They handed it back a moment later. "Here, let me get your clothes." Davrin passed them their purchases and Rook tucked their new sleep clothes and armor into the blacksmith's pack. Already, it was nearly full. "One more thing."

It wasn't the best thing to say-it wasn't even an explanation, but he pressed the comb into their hands, regardless.

"For your hair." Obviously. "I thought you might need one."

Rook took off one of their gloves to trace the smooth spines of the comb, blinking a few times before they said, "Thank you. You..."

Davrin waited patiently as their fingers curled over the comb, clutching it to their chest.

"Today was a good day," they settled on.

Chapter Text

Their mother's comb slid through their hair in long, even strokes. It never caught or pulled, starting at the ends and working her way up. They could almost hear her speaking.

She pinched one of their ears. "Iras ma, mir da'len?"

"Master doesn't like it when you speak that way," they mumbled back. She sighed, that one small signal of disappointment worse than their master's glare or punishment.

"Mythal enasal enaste, vir eth." Her hand smoothed through their hair, her long fingers lingering, brushing over their neck before dividing it into two sections. She brushed half over their shoulder and began to braid the second.

"Ma nuvenin, mamae." It did not feel safe. There was still raw, pink skin around their ankles where an altus' spell had caught. Their master had healed them, but it was with the blood of one of their mother's friends. They didn't know her name, but they could recognize her by her anguished scream.

That sound came again: their mother's voice, as if they'd stuck their head in the Nocen sea. They tried to respond, only managing a slight hum.

Their mother sighed again.

"I worry about you, Avis," she whispered, hair slipping smoothly through her fingers into neatly braided strands. "You're not eating, you hardly speak..."

They should reassure her, but their silence only proved her point.

"What does that shem have you doing?" Only their mother's hands kept them from hanging their head in shame. The nights seemed clearer than the days, colored by blood spatter and flashes of spellwork. They would rather forget. They would rather the rushing sound of water drown the memories entirely and their mother never find out. "Why not go, himself? He already has that poor girl running all over the markets and now you?"

A plain leather cord was tied tightly at the end of the first braid, her hands already bringing the second section back to braid.

"Iras ma, mir da'len?" She asked again, voice soft and pleading next to their ear. "Where have you gone?"

Rook dropped their comb on the nightstand and stared at it.

Their hands were nothing like their mother's and their hair was so tangled that even she would have ripped out a few strands despite her eternal patience.

They weren't home anymore. Where was their mother? She was missing, gone. No, that wasn't right-sold. Their master had said as much, but to whom? And why?

Tears bubbled up without their permission, sliding down their face in silence. Their chest ached, but each breath was traitorously even.

They didn't want to think about this. They had to think about this, they had to box up the memory and hoard it like gold, their mother's voice still rattling through their head.

They hunched over, gripping their bangs where they sat on the edge of their bed. It was dark, windowless. The sconces hadn't been lit since Ragna and Erwin died. Ragna had kept the fire low while she murmured to Erwin, the low sound of their voices soothing in their similarity to the servants' quarters. The other slaves would whisper to each other as they readied for bed and Rook prepared for another night outside.

Their arms started to shake.

They could see their own brown skin, pale from being covered all of these years. An unfamiliar white shirt fell just below their shoulders. The merchant-the one with the pearls-had sold it to them.

They were at Weisshaupt fortress, they knew that much, though they couldn't quite remember how or why. Did their master pawn them off?

Was their mother here?

Abruptly, the tears stopped. Their body stilled. The calm that washed over them teased at the edges of alarming, settling like a cloak over their shoulders. If this was 'home' now, there was really nothing to worry about. They would see their mother soon.

Rook opened the door before they even realized they had stood. The hallways all looked the same, a myriad of closed doors lining the walls. After a moment's hesitation, they turned left.

They nearly ran into a human, his long, dark hair somehow familiar. He had the pale skin and accent of a dog lord, though, and they couldn't recall meeting any Fereldans in Minrathous.

It took a moment to register what he had said.

"Fine," they responded belatedly. It was probably even true.

"I am glad to hear you are well," the noble continued, examining them in such a way that they held very, very still. "I was concerned for you."

'I worry about you,' their mother whispered.

When they didn't respond, the man continued speaking. "I haven't had the chance to congratulate you on your Joining. I thought for a moment that all the recruits I brought would perish. Though, I've been told being the sole survivor is something of a bad omen, as well."

Rook ran their tongue over their teeth, but the taste of blood was long gone. Their escape from Minrathous was still foggy, but they could at least remember how they came to be at the fortress. The man's name was Nathaniel, but everyone seemed to refer to him as senior Howe. They could remember traveling with him alongside... "Erwin seemed eager to die after Ragna fell."

Senior Howe sighed, tucking one long black strand of hair behind his ear. "Yes, it appeared as such. The Joining does not care for its victims' desires, however. It's a strange ritual."

The word 'ritual' crawled up their spine and left them nearly dizzy. The Joining-"Is it blood magic?"

"No, not at all," he reassured them. Perhaps it was something they should have asked beforehand. "Magic is involved, but blood is only a component. As I understand it, blood magic requires blood in place of mana."

So much blood. What was it for, again? "Have you ever seen blood magic?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Despite his words, there was a soft quirk to the man's mouth. "I traveled with the hero of Fereldan for a time and there was no trouble we couldn't find. Why do you ask?"

It was important, they knew that much. Something to do with blood magic, but the conversation was already fading from their mind. "Nevermind." The word sounded distant.

They should find work.

They managed to mumble an unexplained, 'good day', before they started walking again. The fortress was different from their master's home. The mansion was marked by a variety of decorations serving as landmarks, but the fortress was plain stone. Finding the kitchens or laundry would be nearly impossible without additional guidance.

The kitchens were likely downstairs, but their feet led them up, instead. Occasionally, they broke into buildings like this and sweeped the area for hidden messages and hiding places. The upper floors were always the most useful-bedrooms, closets, and attics alike were all prime points for ambush.

Most of the doors on the top floor were shut, but one was open-just a crack.

It was impossible to tell whether it was off limits or not. Closed doors weren't to be opened, even by the cleaning staff.

A peek through the gap revealed a sprawling library with a window out to the courtyard with a few humans, some in armor, scattered throughout. There were no other elves, but the humans weren't authority figures. Wardens, the same as Rook.

The door creaked as they stepped inside. No one so much as looked up at them, most with their noses buried in books excluding one woman who was staring out the window.

Reimas.

It was all too natural to sit down next to her. She glanced at them, once, before turning back to the courtyard.

Through the window, they could see Valya and Caronel sharing a bench by a fountain. Neither seemed aware of the woman's attention, Valya gesturing wildly as she spoke. Caronel had his chin propped up in his hand beside her.

With a few short words, Caronel took the book and Valya picked up a round, flat rock from the ground and set it between them. In the next moment, it launched itself into the air and rolled to a stop a few feet away from the fountain, landing among a few stunted blue flowers.

Valya hid her mouth behind her hand while Caronel cackled beside her.

"Do mages frighten you, Rook?" The woman asked suddenly, turning to face them. Her hands were folded neatly over the table they sat at.

"No." Should they? Other than their master, why fear something they hunted at his command? Even with magic, mages bled the same as anyone else. "Why?"

Reimas did not seem upset they had asked a question. She wore the same calm expression she had yesterday at breakfast, neither offended by their silence nor their words. "Valya and I thought you may dislike mages, as you come from Tevinter. She was worried you were not treated well." Her eyes brushed over them the same way senior Howe's had, lingering on their bare forearms before meeting their eye. Outside, Valya had retrieved the rock. "She was concerned your blood was used for magic."

Not them, never them. Rook and the other girl who left home were safe from their master's knives-those that weren't allowed to leave were not so lucky. Nearly nightly, their master took one of the other slaves aside to... "Oh," they realized. "It's blood magic."

Reimas' brow furrowed. Somewhere outside, Valya cheered with delight. They could see her out of the corner of their eye, the rock wobbling in the air as if held up by strings.

"I'm not supposed to remember." Not that such a thing would make sense to Reimas. For their master's safety, they could not recall the names or faces of their victims. At night, their leash was loosened so they could fight properly, but at home they didn't need to remember anything other than that they were safe. "You're a templar?"

"I am, yes."

Tevinter's templars were next to useless, but Reimas was not Tevene. Rook rarely heard of Southern templars, though the elite occasionally whined about how horrible and backwards the Southern chantries were. The Southern chantry imprisoned and abused mages, but Reimas did not strike them as cruel. Strong and skilled, completely capable of hurting them, but not cruel.

"Are you familiar with blood magic?" Reimas' eyes only grew darker at the question, assessing them with a frown. It wasn't something they could have nor would have had to ask in Minrathous. The humans there were not theirs to question and blood magic in Tevinter was even more common than darkspawn in the Anderfels. It would be like asking if someone had ever seen a sunset, if sunsets were somehow scandalous and impolite to mention in public in spite of the obvious red stain of the sky.

"To some extent." She confirmed, leaning away from them. With a roll of her shoulders, she straightened to her full height. The chairs that left Rook's feet dangling only framed the breadth of her shoulders as she politely continued, "Are you asking for an opinion? Or an explanation?"

They shouldn't be asking this. There would be consequences the moment they opened their mouth. Someone would hear or perhaps Reimas would think them insane or incapable. Some part of them was still certain this was a trap set by their master and they were willingly stepping between its jaws.

Their voice was barely more than a whisper. "I am asking if you can help me." It was becoming clear they couldn't help themself.

Reimas' face softened, eyes flickering over them. Slowly, she moved to cover one of their shaking hands with her own.

"What do you need?" Her voice was just as soft as her touch, her thumb sweeping over their knuckles with no more force than a light breeze. "What happened to you?"

How were they supposed to know? They couldn't even remember their own name-'Rook' was just something their master called them, a mockery of a Crow.

"I don't know." The words tasted sour in their mouth. It seemed it was their only answer these days. "There's something wrong with me."

"You said you were not supposed to remember," Reimas guessed. "Your memories?"

The artificial calm that had settled over them this morning was starting to itch and fray. "My mind."

"I am no longer able to inhibit or dispel magic as I could before," she explained, clearly not hearing how their heart stuttered at the words. "Nor do I know much about the effects of blood magic on people other than its users." Her words were carefully picked, said slowly enough that they started to forget the start of the sentence as it found its end. "Valya may know more. Would you be comfortable speaking to her?"

They weren't sure they were capable of feeling uncomfortable. Not capable of fearing mages, in any case, though they were starting to see why Reimas had asked. "Yes."

Reimas knocked on the window, earning a few hissed shushing noises from the other Wardens. Her hand slipped from theirs to wave, Valya eagerly waving back in turn and gesturing towards where the rock was hovering above the bench. Reimas' eyes squinted into a smile even as she beckoned her to come up, Caronel frowning as he looked between her and Rook.

Valya shrugged and shook her head at whatever he said, scooping up the rock and book to take with her.

"She has never practiced blood magic," Reimas informed them. Admittedly, they hadn't thought to ask, though the implication of her 'knowing more' should have alerted them to the idea. "However, she found the book of a blood mage in our libraries. It's a start."

"Thank you." They inclined their head, staring at her hair instead of meeting her eye. The streaks of grey were so light that they sparkled like silver in the sunlight. "You don't fear mages?" Her attitude seemed unusual for a Southerner, especially a templar.

Reimas sighed through her nose. "The mages I've known are very different from magisters. The Chantry says that if mages are granted freedom, they will become corrupt and seek power, such as the Tevinter Imperium. My... the apostates I've met only seek to live in peace. They are not like the mages you may have known."

Rook hummed, considering. "You're right. Tevinter's mages are no more powerful than Southern mages. If your Circles were to rebel, they would take Val Royeaux within the week with a demon army puppeting your templars' corpses." They idly wished they had some stripweed tea to sip on. Their throat felt dry from speaking so much. "Your mages only allow themselves to be imprisoned to avoid conflict. That is what makes them different from the Imperium's magisters."

Reimas cleared her throat, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

The door opened and both Valya and Caronel walked in. Her eyes lingered on the library's carvings as she passed them, a small smile on her lips as she approached their table.

"Rook, I nearly didn't recognize you!" Valya's voice was low as Caronel dragged two chairs over for them both. "Would you like me to take that shirt in? It looks a bit big on you."

The shirt did fall around their shoulders instead of over them, exposing their collarbone and a few inches of their chest, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The pants were worse: even cuffed twice, they still stepped on the ends.

In the end, they only shrugged.

"I did not ask you here for help with their shirt, Valya," Reimas reminded her with a tense smile. "I hope we did not interrupt you?"

"Valya wants to make a flying aravel," Caronel explained. His lips curled upwards-"Results were mixed."

Valya slapped his arm lightly, ignoring the insult. "I want to ask Davrin and Velanna about it. The Dalish don't use aravels anymore-well, not to fly, anyways, but they might know more about how it worked. Using force cones isn't quite as smooth as it should be. We were just discussing alternatives."

"I'm sure they would be pleased to speak with you. After hearing about Ramesh's discoveries, it would be good for them to..." Reimas trailed off, pursing her lips while Valya nodded in agreement.

"That's what I thought, too. I'd like it if we could do something nice for them. They're both so..."

"Composed," Caronel suggested, all three of them communicating nearly telepathically. Rook hadn't noticed how close they all were before. Suddenly, it felt like they weren't even sitting at the same table.

"Pot, kettle," Valya muttered, earning a well-placed elbow to the side. "What was it you wanted to talk about?" She asked Reimas innocently, as if nothing happened.

"That journal of yours," Valya tensed, "You said they performed blood magic on the griffons?"

"Yes," she answered, clearly unsettled. "Why do you ask?"

Reimas hummed, looking to Rook as if she expected them to take over. All this resulted in was an impromptu staring contest.

She sighed, closing her eyes like she was praying to Mythal for patience. "It appears Rook is under the effects of blood magic."

Rook tried not to be too offended when Valya slumped in relief. "Oh, good. Sorry, I thought maybe the First Warden had asked you about it. I don't want them getting any ideas about putting the griffons through the Joining again."

"Joining the griffons nearly made them extinct," Caronel explained to Rook.

"I thought the Joining wasn't blood magic?" Well, they thought as much as of this morning.

"It isn't, but griffons hate darkspawn, the blight, all of it. Joined griffons don't react well and the others attack them like darkspawn. It's why Crookytail was avoiding me."

"Are you back on speaking terms, then?" Caronel joked, though his concern was obvious in the twitch of his fingers.

"More or less." Valya sighed. "That's not the point, though. The journal I found was written by a Warden who used blood magic to convince them all they were just sick instead of blighted. It kept them from killing each other. For a while, at least."

Rook supposed the situation was similar enough, though they hoped their mind was stronger than an animal's. "What happened to them?"

Valya met their eye grimly. "The Warden convinced them it was a disease and it became one. It spread to griffons she hadn't performed blood magic on and they became both sick and violent. All of the griffons had to be put down. The surviving griffons all come from one clutch of eggs she cleansed using blood magic."

"Oh." That wasn't encouraging. "So, the alterations to the griffons' minds became reality?"

"I suppose. I'm sorry, I really don't know much about how it works. Another mage thought it was simply the price of blood magic, but it could be that blood magic has a greater effect on reality than mana based magic."

Rook could remember similar reality bending enchantments-chandeliers too heavy to hang or Vyrantium's famous floating aqueducts. Now that they thought of it, maybe aravels were originally enchanted using blood magic. The Imperial Chantry said that the elves of Arlathan were the ones to teach them blood magic.

They probably shouldn't mention that.

"You might have better luck with barrier runes combined with amplification. A strong enough barrier could prevent an object from touching the ground. Force spells are too volatile for flight."

Valya nodded slowly, obviously startled by the change in topic, while Reimas and Caronel exchanged looks. "Right, since force spells aren't commonly sustained and are usually cast in bursts, the aravel's flight wouldn't be steady. I don't think a barrier spell would work either, though-it would have to be touching the ground and it isn't practical at that height, not to mention obstacles or the shield breaking." Rook nodded thoughtfully. "There are gravity spells like pull of the abyss, but they affect items differently based on weight. I considered a fade spell, but it doesn't solve the actual issue of levitation. Maybe a glyph of repulsion?"

"They would have to be laid out like a highway. Too many glyphs, all one time use, and the repelling force wouldn't be consistent enough for steady flight."

"Don't look at me, I'm just a battle mage," Caronel complained somewhere in the background.

"A repulsion field might work?" Rook suggested.

"It's a sustained spell and exerts equal force in all directions, but it works in waves. Two mages might be able to make it work, but it would have to be carefully timed." Valya considered aloud. They could just barely hear the door creak open under her voice, the steady click of footsteps following. "We might still be able to use a gravity spell to reduce the weight..."

"Bringing griffons back from extinction wasn't enough for you-you have to revolutionize magic, too?" Davrin joked.

Rook perked up without meaning to, silently berating themself for the obvious reaction. They couldn't help it-he was kind and attentive in a way that was nearly foreign and made them wish for their mask to hide behind as he faced them with a bright, beautiful grin.

His grin faltered for a moment when their eyes met, seeming almost shocked as he looked them over before settling into a soft smile.

Davrin pulled up a fifth chair, squeezing in between Valya and Rook. "What were you talking about before I interrupted?"

Valya gasped, whipping around to face Rook again. "I nearly forgot! We could try a dispel magic spell," which sounded like an oxymoron, "Or a ward, maybe. The journal..."

Valya hesitantly lifted the book she brought in from outside, keeping it close to her body even as she presented it to them.

"You could read it, I suppose. Maybe you'll see something I missed."

She sounded reluctant to part with it. Either way, "I can't read." They were lucky that was true of many peasants as they wouldn't have been able to decipher the chantry board yesterday without its many drawings, maps, and runes.

Valya blinked. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I could read it to you, if you'd like to hear about the griffons for yourself." She seemed far more comfortable with that idea.

"That sounds nice," they agreed, though they imagined trying to listen to and remember the effects of blood magic while under a spell that resisted coherent thought on the subject wouldn't be pleasant in any sense.

"Just a second." Davrin walked to a shelf with piles of books similar to Valya's journal, most with plain leather covers. He pulled out two of them before sitting beside them again, scooting his chair closer to theirs. "I made these for my clan to share with other Dalish elves-the Wardens keep a lot of things secret, but I figured it wouldn't hurt for them to know how to identify darkspawn and their weaknesses."

He flipped the journal open to a rough sketch of a genlock. The clean lines of the drawing didn't capture the rotting skin and smell. There were a few paragraphs of writing along with a dwarven rune marking it as resistant to magic and another indicating ranged attacks.

"This way, even clans who don't bother with reading trade tongue can defend themselves. We were hit pretty hard during the fifth blight, especially the clans in Fereldan. Darkspawn massacred our people in the forests before moving on to human cities. We were lucky to be near Hasmal at the time." Davrin leaned closer to them, a small frown on his lips as he studied the page. "They're pretty sympathetic to elves there, being so close to Tevinter. We didn't even know there was a blight until it was over, but there were enough stragglers coming out of the deep roads to stick close to the city. We still trade with them, actually. "

Caronel crossed his arms, an uneasy quirk to his mouth. "The blight was far worse in Fereldan." Though his voice was calm, it was obviously a sensitive subject. To Rook, he added, "Don't count on humans to help you, even against darkspawn. Some of them can't recognize the real threat."

Rook glanced at Reimas, the only human at the table, but she didn't seem bothered. "I'm from Tevinter," they reminded him.

"... Right." Caronel agreed awkwardly. Valya coughed lightly to cover up her laughter.

"What's the other one?" Rook changed the subject, poking the other book Davrin had grabbed.

"Just some recipes," he admitted. "Most Dalish recipes are passed on through word of mouth. I thought it would be good to have them written down somewhere, but it's not very useful to you. Sorry," he added.

Rook flipped the book open, eyeing the long lines of text. They could recognize the format and some common words between recipes, but it was written entirely in trade with only a few sketches that didn't convey the warmth or colors of the dishes. They could recognize deep forest comfort by the wildflowers and a fruit cobbler their mother used to make in the summer months.

They stopped at a recipe for hearth cakes, the drawing nearly identical to the ones they made with their mother.

They used to stand on their mother's feet in front of the fire as they cooked breakfast, their mother allowing them to sprinkle fruit into the batter. They had to use baking powder and goat butter instead of hardwood ash and halla butter, but they came out sweet and fluffy. Better than the sweet rolls the fortress set out.

Their mother was a better cook than them, but they could remember the recipe well enough.

Rook glanced at Davrin before handing the book back. Valya took it a moment later, leaning over to show Caronel and Reimas.

"Could I borrow this one?" They slid the darkspawn book out from his hands instead. "I like your drawings, by the way."

"Sure. Just so you know, there are some things that didn't translate well to runes. There are varieties of darkspawn, like alphas and emissaries, that are capable of magic or stronger than regular darkspawn." Davrin sounded nearly excited by the subject. Now that they thought of it, he always seemed happy to explain animals, monsters, and darkspawn to them. "Would you like to read it together?"

"If you have time," Rook agreed. Hopefully, they didn't sound too eager to spend time with him even after several days together.

"Oh, that reminds me." Davrin pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket, pressing them into Rook's hands. The index and middle finger were made from slightly thicker leather with soft fur lining the inside. "They're meant for archery, but I don't use bows very often. Do they fit?"

Rook pulled on one of the gloves, flexing their fingers against the supple leather. They were a bit big, just like all of their clothes, but not so much so that it would interfere with drawing their bow. They nodded, distracted by the fine quality of the gloves.

"I was thinking we could practice together tomorrow, if you like. Do you want to learn horseback archery?"

That caught Valya's attention for some reason, the elf twisting away from her friends to level Davrin with a surprised look. Not that he even saw it, focused on Rook as he was.

Rook nodded again. Davrin took their silence in stride, clearly used to it by now. He was smiling again, wide enough his eyes crinkled as if he couldn't think of anything he'd like more. "We should probably move somewhere else to read-the other Wardens are starting to look annoyed with us. Valya, did you want to come?"

Valya shook her head, a strange look on her face. "Another day? We could try the dispel magic spell tomorrow, if that works for you."

"Yes, thank you." They doubted it would be that easy, but it was their only idea at the moment. "It's still hot outside. We could read in my room?" Not that the inside of the fortress was much cooler, but it was at least private. It wasn't as if they had any roommates now.

"Sure, just let me grab a couple of other books. You can go on ahead, I won't be long."

Rook didn't question it, slipping out from their chair with a soft, "Good day," to the others. Valya was the only one to respond in kind with Reimas nodding to them, instead, and Caronel waving them off like a bug.

A few of the top floor's doors had been opened as they made their way back down, revealing cramped offices and what appeared to be a training room. It didn't take long before they made it back to their room.

They had only sat down for a moment before Davrin opened the door. "Have you been waiting in the dark?"

Now that they thought of it, "It's not like I carry matches."

Davrin paused before shaking his head. "I'll light them. Can't read in the dark, can I?" He set a few books next to them on the bed before pulling out a small box of matches to light the sconces.

They weren't sure which of them was odder-Rook, who had never lit the sconces in their bedroom, or Davrin, who apparently carried matches around even in his pajamas.

They hadn't thought much of it before, but they seemed to be the only one who had been wearing armor around the fortress. Valya wore something resembling a night gown, or perhaps they were simply plain robes, while the others stuck to loose shirts and trousers.

Davrin was wearing a deep v-neck shirt with the sleeves rolled up, their bare arms brushing together as he sat beside them. "I picked out a bestiary and an account of the third blight. Which one do you want to start with?"

Their knees knocked together when Davrin turned to show them the books, their heads bowed together as they inspected the covers. "Um," they cleared their throat. "Does that one have griffons?"

The other book had so many strange animals on its cover, they couldn't even begin to pick them out. The book they pointed out had two simple griffons swooping across the page. It also seemed a much more reasonable length.

"All the best stories do," Davrin promised, setting the other book to the side. "There were a lot more griffons during the third blight." The book didn't crack open, the spine long since broken. They were more surprised it didn't tear. "The third blight actually started in Marnas Pell and Vyrantium. Have you ever been?"

"No." Rook hesitated before they relaxed against his side, leaning into his touch so the length of their arms were pressed together. The proximity was useless given that there weren't any drawings in the book, but Davrin didn't mention it. "I never left Minrathous. There's a saying there, something along the lines of the darkspawn having better chances of conquering the black city."

"Is it really that impressive? I always thought the magisters were just talking themselves up."

"The mages found a way to automate wind magic so the buildings stay cool in the summer." It was probably blood magic, but they missed the artificial breeze. Weisshaupt's stone baked in the heat and had few windows, though the arrow slits almost made up for it. "Also, a floating castle."

Davrin laughed lightly, raising a hand to shake them by the shoulder before he wrapped it around them to start reading. His voice was right next to their ear as he spoke.

Well, at least they could blame their blush on the heat.

Chapter Text

Morning came too soon.

The other beds creaked as the Wardens woke up, but Davrin took his time staring at the stone ceiling without even trying to convince himself to get up.

Yesterday, he read together with Rook until they stopped answering and for another few hours after that. One moment, they were splitting lunch, hands brushing together everytime one of them reached for the bowl of candied dates. They made it all the way through the account of the third blight despite Rook stopping to describe Tevinter's magical defenses in surprising detail. They nearly choked laughing at the bestiary's description of a nuggalope and asked questions about everything from mabari to halla.

The questions slowed. Answers were replaced by gestures. Eventually, they stopped responding entirely, still holding onto a piece of braided bread as if they had simply forgotten about it.

Maybe they had.

Yesterday, in between grabbing books, Valya had explained to them exactly why she wanted to cast a dispel magic spell on Rook.

So, he had kept reading long after they'd gone silent and then led them downstairs for dinner. No one mentioned that Davrin was the one to carry Rook's plate outside.

At the end of the night, he guided them back to their room. It felt wrong to leave and that comb was sitting on their nightstand so innocently...

When Davrin finished combing their hair, they were crying.

Thinking about it made him want to cry, too.

The door shut behind his roommates with a thud. Finally, he levered himself out of bed, if only to think of something other than blood magic.

He didn't even bother to pull on his boots. Let the shems think of him as uncivilized-he just couldn't be bothered today.

The dining hall was crowded, the kitchens still churning out food in the early morning. The tables were covered in bread, bowls of porridge, and hearth cakes.

For a moment, he thought he might be dreaming. They were still steaming, topped with butter that had long since melted and studded with dried currants.

They were remarkably untouched, everyone seemingly avoiding the unknown food.

Davrin happily took half and then a couple more, in case he saw Velanna.

The pig's trotters he grabbed out of the kitchens for Assan to chew on barely fit on his plate. Valya always woke up before him and had likely brought their griffons down already, so he headed straight outside to meet with her.

It was a relief to see Rook again, settled comfortably in between Valya and Reimas. Their plate was forgotten in their lap as they ruffled Assan's feathers, Crookytail resting half on top of the other griffon, half on Valya's lap.

"Alright, who do I have to thank for these?" Davrin ended up between Valya and Caronel, earning both the griffons' attention by throwing out two of the pig's trotters. Crookytail kicked Assan in the face as he scrambled for the treat.

Most griffons couldn't be fed together on account of fighting, but Crookytail was calm enough not to instigate a fight and Assan was friendly enough to share.

"Oh, those look delicious!" He supposed it wasn't Valya, then. She was the main suspect considering he didn't think Reimas or Caronel had ever willingly entered a kitchen.

"If you didn't make them, who did?" He assumed it had to be one of them given they were still browsing his recipe book when he left the library yesterday. It probably wasn't poisoned, at least. Even if it was, the taste was well worth it. The first forkful burst with cinnamon and nutmeg over his tongue. He chewed slowly to savor it, trying to remember the last time he'd tasted Dalish cooking. Years, at least.

"It wasn't me," Caronel spoke, which coming from anyone else would sound like a lie. Caronel, on the other hand, only sounded bored as he picked through his own breakfast.

"Who else...?" Valya trailed off, turning to Rook. "Rook? Rook, did you make these?"

They blinked blankly at her. "The hearth cakes," he specified, pointing to his own plate.

It took a moment, whatever spell that held them seeming stronger after a night's rest, before they said, "It's my mother's recipe."

The next bite seemed a little sweeter. "It's good," he tried not to sound too choked. "Uh, Valya, have you tried the spell, yet?"

"I have," she admitted. "Before I brought the griffons down. It... well, they just seemed so scared. It didn't help at all. Senior Enchanter Eilfas mentioned something about the Litany of Adralla, but it only works while the spell's still being cast."

"I spoke with Laros, but he didn't have anything to add." Davrin had hoped Reimas would have some insight, but it seemed blood magic was so taboo that there was little information even regarding prevention or cures.

"Which one's Laros?" Caronel asked.

"... The dwarven templar."

"I won't give up," Valya reassured Rook. They didn't so much as look at her, focused only on their own plate. "I wish I could speak to them about it," she admitted. "Maybe if they could tell me a bit more about what sort of spells were cast on them, we could find a solution."

The griffons both snapped to attention at the sound of heavy footsteps, the rest of them following a moment later.

A small group of people, perhaps half a dozen in all, marched past them. The other Wardens regarded them oddly, giving them a wide berth as they set out for the gate.

"What was that about?" Valya was the one to ask, craning her neck to watch them leave. They were dressed in full armor and armed with swords and shields. The griffons had both slinked behind her, wary of the strangers and noise.

"Dust cloud, about half an hour out. Probably something that wants to eat us."

"Sigrun!" He hadn't even noticed her trailing behind the others. It wasn't often Davrin got to speak with her. "Where's Velanna?"

"She's terrorizing the kitchens trying to find out who made some Dalish dish." Sigrun settled between Caronel and Reimas, the small circle quickly becoming crowded. Crookytail stuck his face out first, laying down in the small gap between Valya and Davrin. "Didn't know elves had casteless. Stone-met, salroka."

Davrin waited to see if Rook would respond, but they didn't even seem to hear her. "That's Rook. They're not casteless, they were a slave in Tevinter."

Velanna stomped up a moment later, balancing two plates for her and Sigrun. Davrin wordlessly placed two of his own hearth cakes on her plate. "Thank you," she huffed, pressing herself against Sigrun's side. "Honestly, how does a kitchen full of Wardens not notice a new cook? You would think an assassin made these cakes!"

Davrin nearly inhaled a piece of cake, covering his mouth to cough. Assan brushed up against his side, shoving his beak in Davrin's face in what he liked to think was concern. Rook didn't even notice. "That's your assassin." He pointed at Rook who finally looked at him, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You made these?" Velanna demanded.

"The hearth cakes," Caronel clarified once again.

Rook nodded, seemingly remembering their breakfast for the first time in order to stick a sweet roll in their mouth.

"Calm down, vhenan." Sigrun patted her wife on the back. "You can have as many as you want."

"Don't mock me, mir lath," Velanna hissed back. Her face fell as she picked up one of the hearth cakes. "It's simply been too long since I've had these."

Not for the first time, Davrin wondered if his keeper would be willing to take Velanna in. With Neria working for the Inquisition, the clan needed more magical talent, but the Wardens rarely crossed paths with his people.

"I left a recipe book in the library if you'd like to try making some for yourself," Davrin offered, Assan leaving his side to inspect Rook instead.

"The only thing Velanna's good at making is fire," Sigrun teased. "I'm surprised they didn't chase you out of the kitchens."

"They tried," Velanna admitted without a hint of shame. "I seem to remember you receiving similar treatment after breaking five of the plates."

"And now they'll never make me wash the dishes again."

"I think the cooks are just territorial." They didn't like Davrin using the kitchens, either, and he had never so much as spilled flour.

"They're likely concerned about inventory," Reimas added. "The Circle was similar."

"Then why let Rook in?" Within moments of Caronel's question, everyone was looking at Rook.

They didn't seem to notice, fully absorbed in scratching under Assan's chin as the griffon thumped his back foot with each crook of their fingers.

Perhaps the cooks recognized their brand as well and decided to let them work, though he doubted Wardens would be cowed by an average assassin. More likely, they simply didn't think anything of another elf in the kitchens.

"Nevermind. Did anyone else want to try one?" Davrin held out his plate, the hearth cakes quickly disappearing while Sigrun simply took one from Velanna.

"This is good," Valya agreed, even though she looked like she'd bitten into something sour. "Rook, did you used to be a cook?"

Rook's nails found their brand, leaving red marks under their eye.

Valya looked to Davrin, instead, polishing off her hearth cake before speaking. "You were planning on trying to teach Rook horseback archery today, weren't you?" Now that her plate was clean, she set it aside in favor of gathering Crookytail into her lap.

"Maybe after they wake up a bit." Not that he had any way of knowing if that would happen. It was hard to believe the person who explained the difference between runes, glyphs, and wards yesterday was the same one who cried silently as he combed their hair and was now making steady eye contact with the dirt. Even thinking about it made his heart ache for them. "What about you?"

"Me and Caronel are working on a project. Perhaps Rook could stay with us until they're ready to practice?"

Davrin was fairly certain Rook could defend themself even unarmed and in pajamas, but after yesterday, he almost didn't want to let them out of his sight. "It's no fun practicing alone-I think I'll join you. What are you working on?"

Valya's face did something odd, her fingers twitching on top of Crookytail. "On second thought, maybe you should start training Assan with Rook."

"Assan? Why?" Davrin looked to the griffon who was now leaning against Rook. They seemed friendly enough, but the griffons weren't even allowed on the field, yet.

"I know it will be a few more years before he's ready to fly, but if you plan on making Rook your second rider you should train Assan to listen to them now rather than later."

No one else noticed that baffling statement: Reimas and Sigrun were discussing armor while Caronel and Velanna spoke in low voices. Probably insulting shems, knowing them.

"I wasn't. Planning on it, I mean. Why do you think Rook should be my second rider?" Technically, the role was flexible. It was more so about who was available and best suited to each particular outing.

For someone like Valya, who was a ranged fighter, she could easily take another mage or archer to fight while she guided Crookytail. Trusting someone else with Crookytail's reins was another story as the birds tended to answer only to their chosen riders. Reimas was a good choice-she was familiar enough to take the reins as needed or be dropped off in melee range depending on the situation.

For Davrin, his second rider had to be a mage or an archer. Though he knew how to shoot a bow, he was better in close combat. Without a ranged weapon, Assan would just be a method of transportation. Having a distance fighter would allow them to attack from on high while Davrin focused on flying.

Or, if he was very lucky, Assan would trust someone else enough to ride him while Davrin remained on the ground.

"You weren't?" Valya seemed just as surprised at his denial as he was at her suggestion. She glanced at Rook, but they didn't appear to be listening as they played with Assan's feathers. "I just thought... I mean, you wanted to teach them horseback archery."

Which was, of course, one of the first steps in training to fly a griffon. The journal Valya found mentioned riding a horse with wooden boards attached to imitate wings.

It was both a logical method and completely absurd. Davrin was somewhat glad it would be another few years before they needed to practice that way.

"It's a good skill to have." Given that Rook was apparently an assassin, there wasn't much he could teach them, but given they didn't know how to ride a horse-

"Do they even know how to ride a horse?"

"Well, no, but that's part of the point."

"I'm sorry, I really did think that's what you wanted. You must have worked well together in Hossberg to afford their new clothes, enough that you offered them gloves from your clan. With how often I've seen you together, I thought it was either that or you had a crush." She was clearly joking, playfully scrunching his nose at him.

He couldn't really blame her for her way of thinking. Ever since he met Rook, he'd spent not only every day, but most of the day with them. Taking them with him to the training fields with Assan and Crookytail would have been more evidence in her favor, yet she didn't even feel the need to point it out.

"It's not a bad idea." If he were to trust someone else with Assan's reins, it would be best to get them used to each other now. He hadn't seen Rook use their bow, yet, but he had a feeling they were skilled. If they could get used to horseback archery, they'd be the perfect second rider.

"I thought so, too."

"Though, it does make me wish we could introduce the other griffons to everyone." They already had this conversation two days ago, but he couldn't help bringing it up again. "Like you said, better now than later."

"I didn't make the rules, Davrin." For all that Valya guarded the clutch like her own children, she wasn't the Roostmaster, nor the First Warden. The logistics of feeding and housing the griffons was left to one of the senior wardens, while the First Warden decided they wouldn't be introduced to the other Wardens until they could fly. "You'd have to convince the First Warden, not me."

Davrin privately thought she just didn't trust any strangers with her clutch.

"As if I could even get close enough to speak with him." He had only met the First Warden once and that was more than most: when Assan had escaped the roost and bonded with Davrin, he'd been brought in to speak with the man. "Seems unfair that the person that's making these decisions can't be bothered to speak with us."

"I think so, too," Valya admitted. Crookytail huffed as she squirmed, practically pinning her in place. "If it was up to me, I'd at least let Reimas and Caronel meet them again. They were with me when we found them, after all."

"Maybe Rainier? He's good with horses, at least."

Valya's brow twitched as she took his plate from him. He hadn't even noticed it was empty. "I suppose." Davrin bit back a laugh at her polite tone. It was obviously forced-a lot of people didn't trust Rainier, though Davrin did feel a bit bad about it. The man had been nothing but kind to him and learning about his past hadn't changed that. At the same time, he couldn't blame Valya for avoiding the man. "I can't think of any other Wardens that are good with animals, can you?"

He didn't have any problems working with other Wardens, but most of the ones he trusted were currently within five feet of him. Senior Howe and Ramesh were too close to their Callings to train a griffon and Evka still hadn't made it back to Weisshaupt. "Not really," he admitted. If it had been his clan, he could have named ten people off the top of his head. "Maybe one of the new recruits? What about Padin?"

Valya shook her head. "We didn't keep animals in the circle. Speaking of the new recruits, do you know why there were so many this time?"

"It has to be related to the summons, right?" It had been months now since all the Wardens were summoned back and it seemed like they had stopped trickling in. Without the Wardens, the rest of Thedas was vulnerable to darkspawn, but the First Warden seemed to be in no hurry to announce why. Davrin was glad for the orders, since it meant staying close to Assan, but some of the others were getting restless. "I just can't imagine what they'd need so many Wardens for."

"It can't be another blight or we'd all be having nightmares." Davrin hadn't even considered it, given the fifth blight ended not long ago. "Anything else I can think of was all resolved years ago."

"True enough." Davrin didn't really understand all of what happened with the breach, but the bit about 'talking darkspawn' had made the rounds. He hoped it wasn't another one of those. "Here, I'll take those. Anyone else done eating?"

Only Velanna and Sigrun were still picking at their food. Even Rook had finished. He fought to keep a straight face as their fingers brushed, pulling away quickly.

He'd already returned their plates and was halfway out the door when the horn sounded.

It wasn't a warning, at least, only one long note that could mean anything from a new arrival to an injured party. A few other Wardens followed him out the door, Rook appearing at his left like a shadow. Valya had likely stayed behind with the griffons.

There were more people than he expected at the gates, all clamoring for news outside of the fortress. Past all of the armor, he spotted Evka being helped off her horse by an elven man. It wasn't even the same horse she left with.

"Evka!" The dwarf pushed out of the crowd to meet him, several of the other Wardens making sour faces at the silent dismissal. "Where have you been? You picked up a new recruit?"

Honestly, it had been so long he was starting to think she had died.

"We got held up. This is Antoine," she gestured to the elf that was still holding her other hand. Rook came to a stop just a step behind him, their arms nearly pressed together. Davrin took another step forward to give them space. "He was infected by darkspawn. He's already Joined."

"We're getting married," Antoine announced.

Davrin waited a beat for Evka to laugh.

It wasn't a joke. "Evka, you've been gone for five months."

"It was an eventful five months."

"I was bitten by a werewolf," Antoine offered.

"Wait, like the Lady of the Forest?"

"The who?"

"It's not important," he decided. "You're getting married?"

"Today, if possible," Antoine answered. Evka only rolled her eyes.

"Yes, we're getting married."

"Sylaise enasal enaste," Rook finally spoke.

Evka regarded them oddly for a moment. "I didn't know the elves had casteless."

Right. "This is Rook. They Joined a few days ago." Had it really only been a few days? "They were a slave in Tevinter, which is why they have that tattoo."

Antoine startled like a horse, clutching his chest with wide eyes. "Oh, merde!"

Davrin hadn't picked up on his accent before, but now he could only stare at Evka in disappointment. "An Orlesian, Evka? Really?"

"I was a servant in Orlais," Antoine was explaining to Rook who had tilted their head like a confused dog. "What sort of work did you do? I mostly kept to the kitchens, but occasionally I got to make potions."

"He's not so bad." As if the lovestruck smile on her face didn't give her away, eyes glued to Antoine as he prattled on.

"I was an assassin." Rook always chose the worst times to talk. He was fairly certain they just enjoyed disturbing people.

To his credit, Antoine only blinked twice before answering. "I know a few poisons, but I mostly focus on distractions and explosives. Did you kill your master? Is that how you joined the Wardens?"

"I didn't. Where did you learn how to use a bow?"

"My mother taught me! Do you use a bow? I guess so, if you're an assassin. Darkspawn must be similar, right? Have you fought any, yet?"

"Genlocks and a hurlock." Rook ignored Davrin's correction of 'alpha'.

"We actually ran into a few ogres not too long ago. You're Dalish, aren't you?" Antoine didn't wait for a response from Davrin before launching into the story. "There were these three ogres scaring away halla. Of course, we only knew about one when we-"

"Calm down, Antoine. You can tell him about it after the wedding." Evka managed to sound both exasperated and fond. The mere mention of 'wedding' had Antoine smiling at her like a loon, squeezing her hand which never left his.

The clanking of her armor announced Sigrun before she called out. "Did you just say wedding, princess?"

"I did, duster." Evka shot back. Sigrun only smiled serenely. If he didn't know better, he wouldn't have believed they were friends. "Meet Antoine, my fiance."

"You have your work cut out for you," Sigrun joked, coming to a stop a few paces away.

"She isn't work." The retort was admittedly weak, especially considering Antoine was pouting as he said it.

"I meant the wedding. Decorations, food, not to mention all of the chantry stuff if you're Andrastian."

"Oh. How quickly do you think we can put together a wedding, anyways?"

"Velanna kept our wedding dresses." Sigrun started walking back towards Valya and the others, not even looking back to check if they were following. "I'm sure mine will fit you, princess."

"I'd be fine getting married in my armor," Evka admitted, studiously avoiding Antoine's puppy eyes. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate the chance to wash it off, first."

"I never thought I'd have a real wedding." Antoine sighed wistfully.

"Me neither," Sigrun admitted. "I was ready to die when I met Velanna. I may still be fated to die in the Deep Roads, but it will be by her side."

"That's so romantic!" Antoine exclaimed. "How long have you been married?"

"Over a decade now? I guess we'll be seeing the Deep Roads sooner rather than later."

"Oh." Antoine finally deflated. "We met another Warden along the way. Dernel. He was halfway back to Weisshaupt when..."

"He went to face his Calling." Evka finished for him as they finally came within shouting range of the others. Davrin didn't recognize the name, but at least they knew now.

"Oh, it's Evka!" Valya was the first to notice them, pushing herself to stand and meet them. "Welcome back!"

"It's good to see you well," Reimas commented, though Davrin was sure she meant 'alive'. She stood as well, helping Caronel up with her.

"A new recruit?" Velanna was the one to ask, coming to hover next to Valya. Davrin would hope Antoine wasn't too overwhelmed, but he seemed remarkably well adjusted already.

"Everyone, this is my fiance, Antoine."

Evka didn't have a chance to introduce anyone in return as Velanna started laughing.

"Oh, you're not joking." Velanna realized after a moment.

"Congratulations, Evka, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Antoine."

"That's Valya," Evka explained. "I should have mentioned earlier, but this is Davrin and the templar is Reimas. The other two are Caronel and Velanna."

"It's nice to meet you all! Evka's told me practically nothing about you." Evka elbowed him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders in turn.

"Sigrun mentioned you still have her wedding dress?"

"Yes, though I have nothing for your-" There was a brief pause as Velanna picked a word- "Fiance, unless he wants to wear my dress."

"Sure, thank you!" Antoine answered, perfectly genuine and somehow aggressively polite at the same time. "We look to be around the same size."

"Well, that's one thing sorted," Davrin cut in. "What else?"

"I was thinking we could hold the ceremony in the courtyard. There's a fountain," Evka explained. "It's probably either that or the dining hall."

"The Joining was in the dining hall," Valya added. "So maybe not."

"The courtyard sounds lovely. Who else are we inviting?"

"I'm sure the whole fortress will know about it by sundown and happily take the excuse to drink." Though, with the Joining ceremony just a few days ago, he couldn't imagine the cooks would like it. Davrin certainly wasn't going to be the one to tell them.

"I suppose we can't exactly invite our families." Antoine shared a small smile with Evka who squeezed his hand. Davrin wondered if she had even noticed she was still holding it. "I don't need an officiant, do you?"

"No point in it," Evka agreed. "It's not like I have a dowry."

"I can speak to the Chamberlain about decorations while Velanna and Sigrun show you the dresses," Valya suggested. "Perhaps Davrin could spread the word while Caronel makes arrangements with the kitchens?"

Caronel's eyebrow twitched. "Fine. Meet in the courtyard at sundown?"

"Sounds good. Rook, do you want to come with me?" The words were out of his mouth before he remembered Valya's comment about them spending too much time together. It was much too late to take it back as Rook gave him a barely there smile as they came to stand at his elbow.

Rook shadowed him over the next several hours, informing groups of Wardens and then setting up decorations with Valya. The fortress didn't have much, but there were a few Wintersend garlands, stray flowers, and wisps from Valya and Caronel's spellcasting.

Light from the hallway sconces spilled into the courtyard as they shuffled into place. A few dozen of Evka's 'closest' acquaintances had piled in, wreathing the fountain where Antoine stood, fidgeting with the long sleeves of his dress. The entryways were crowded with even more Wardens spilling all the way to the dining hall.

The chatter died completely as the crowd cleared for Evka.

Sigrun's dress fit her perfectly. The style was typical to Orzammar, with beads lining the hem and collar in place of jewels. The skirt was high enough to show the tops of her mud stained boots.

Antoine looked as though he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"I can't believe I get to marry you."

Evka took his outstretched hand and turned to face him in front of the fountain. Their hands seamlessly laced together, standing close enough for their skirts to mingle. The distance between their faces was nearly nonexistent, Antoine having leaned down so their noses brushed. "No second thoughts?"

"Never," Antoine swore. Despite the lack of officiant, he faithfully recited, "I swear unto the Maker and the holy Andraste to stay with you for the rest of my days, no matter how long or short that may be. To honor and defend you as you have done for me." More quietly, he added, "May we face our Calling together."

Rook leaned against his arm as Evka reached up to cradle his face. Davrin pointedly didn't meet Valya's eye.

"Par kallak, gat parthas. Mathas gar na fornen pa salroka atrast, valos atredum."

"I don't know what that means," Antoine whispered.

"It means I love you and I do."

They kissed softly, earning a chorus of cheers. The sound of a lute started and Davrin barely had enough time to recognize the first notes of 'Hero in Every Port' before someone smacked the musician and the makeshift band started playing something slow and sweet instead.

The newly married couple spun around in a slow circle. Evka managed to trip over Antoine's skirt, who turned the movement into an impromptu dip while Evka laughed. It was the happiest Davrin had ever seen her.

Valya's friend, Berrith, sidled up next to Caronel who raised any eyebrow at her. "Want to dance?" She teased, fluttering her eyelashes.

Caronel's lip twitched in amusement. "I'll pass."

"Someday, I'll convince you," Berrith joked, her crush on the man having long since passed.

"Reimas promised to teach me an Orlesian waltz, if you'd like to join." Valya offered. Berrith eagerly agreed-Davrin assumed there wasn't much dancing at the Circle, nor was there any among the Wardens excluding the few times they had to appease the nobility.

Sigrun drew Velanna off towards the sidelines to sway in place, leaving only him, Rook, and Caronel.

Rook was watching everyone closely, eyes lingering on the dancers.

"Would you like to dance?" Davrin couldn't stop himself from asking. Ever since he spoke to Valya, he'd become hyper aware of how often he and Rook touched. Every brush of their knuckles was startling now-did they really stand that close all of the time? How many times had Davrin reached for them on impulse, holding their hand and brushing their hair? Even now that he was aware of it, he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't seem to stay away from them.

"I don't know how to," Rook admitted. Despite their answer, they readily took his hand as he pulled them towards a clear space.

Somewhere, Evka tripped over Antoine's dress again.

"Neither does anyone else," he promised. He guided Rook's hands to his shoulders, resting his own on their hips. Their fingers brushed the border of his collar and skirted briefly over his neck before settling lightly over his shirt. "Is this alright?"

"Fine," Rook agreed, ducking their head. Davrin guessed they were watching their feet to keep from stepping on him, though they were swaying more than dancing. "Are all weddings like this?"

"I'm not sure, I don't know much about human weddings."

"Neither of them are human." Rook darted a look over their shoulder as if to check.

"Well, yes." He wasn't sure how to explain this. "But Antoine's from the city. City elves aren't able to keep many of their own traditions and they need permission from the chantry to get married." Not that it was particularly relevant here, despite how Andrastian the Anderfels were. "And Evka's a surfacer now. Whatever ceremonies they have in Orzammar, she wouldn't have access to up here. So, a lot of people just default to doing things the human way."

"I think I understand." Rook rested their head against his collarbone, their warm breath ghosting over his chest. Davrin's hands twitched over their hips, hesitating to bring them closer even as Rook looped both arms around his neck. Somehow, they ended up pressed together, barely even moving to the music. Again, he was reminded of what Valya had said about him having a crush.

It was a horrible idea. He should forget Valya ever said anything.

"Two of the other slaves got married once, but there wasn't a wedding. We scraped together enough copper for two cheap rings and the market girl hid them amongst her purchases the next time she was allowed outside," Rook explained. Davrin rested his chin on top of their hair, idly stroking their back as they spoke. "I think they both escaped with me. They must still be in Vol Dorma."

"Should have headed the other way, towards the Free Marches. Hasmal would have taken you in."

Rook sighed. "Vol Dorma was closer. None of us knew where we were going and the elf that rescued us abandoned us right outside of Minrathous."

"They left you in Tevinter?" What was the point of rescuing someone only to leave them in a country where they would be hunted down and captured again?

"I heard rumors from the others about 'freed' slaves being left inside of Minrathous." Despite the subject, Rook's voice was calm and even. "I don't think they really wanted to save us."

Davrin cupped the back of their head. They were lucky to have made it as far as Vol Dorma, even if it was still within Tevinter's borders. "You could write to them. Tell them to head towards Hasmal or try to find a nearby clan." He knew clan Oranavra was in the area, at least. His last letter to Keeper Elindra still hadn't received a response, but he could always ask if Oranavra was willing to take them in.

"Maybe."

The conversation ended there and with it went any distraction from his own thoughts.

He could admit he got attached to Rook quickly. He hadn't thought twice about it, even when they admitted to being an assassin. He wanted to protect them, to train with them, and talk with them when the fog lifted. He wanted to make them smile and lean against them while he read to them until his throat was hoarse.

He just hadn't considered what that all meant, yet. He may have been avoiding thinking about it, in fact. Now that Valya had pointed it out to him, he couldn't avoid it anymore.

The music came to a stop, the musicians taking a break to flex their fingers and get water. He and Rook separated slowly, hands lingering a moment too long.

"Did you want any food? I think they brought some dishes from the dining hall."

"I've been starving since the Joining," they admitted.

"The blood does that," he agreed. There was a reason feasts were held the night of the Joining. Rook's eyebrows drew together, lips thinning. "What is it?"

"Darkspawn don't need to eat, do they?" Davrin nodded. "So, why does darkspawn blood make us hungry?"

"... Maybe it's like recovering from being sick?" He guessed. Now that he thought of it, all other effects of the Joining were directly related to darkspawn abilities. It was only ghouls that... "Let's not think about it."

Rook laughed softly, following him to the other end of the courtyard where a few tables had been filled with food. Caronel must have been able to convince the cooks to make another feast: there were stacks of braided bread and seeded rolls along with meat like roast chicken and venison smothered with sauce. There was even pigeon pie.

Rook grabbed one of the rolls while he made up his own plate with venison and took his vintage where he left it on the table earlier. They settled along one of the walls to eat and drink. It had been a long time since Davrin's glass was anything more than a collection of whatever alcohol they found on the road, but sometimes he swore he could still taste the blackberries and juniper of his clan's moonshine.

"Do you still have your bottle?" He asked Rook.

"This?" They asked, pulling the standard issue reinforced glass from where it had been tucked into their waistband. Theirs was still empty, having not found anything in Hossberg. Davrin's own glass was getting light, as well. "Do you really add any alcohol you find to it?"

"Sure thing. Want to try it?" Rook nodded, holding out their own bottle for Davrin to pour into.

Rook took their glass back and sniffed it curiously. A single sip of the blend was all it took for them to start coughing. "That's awful!"

"It's going to be mixed in with whatever alcohol you find, eventually. I think that means we're friends forever now."

"I don't think I like being your friend." Rook pouted. Davrin couldn't help laughing as they took another short sip, wincing the entire time.

They settled shoulder to shoulder against the wall, Rook's head falling against his shoulder as they took another mulish bite from their roll. It wasn't his intention when he shared his rite wine, but it was true that it would always be a part of Rook's own from now on. He had a feeling that was how it would be for him and Rook as well.

"I'm going to sleep," Rook announced once they finished off their roll. "It's been a long day."

"Go get some rest, no one will hold it against you." Davrin clinked their bottles together. "Goodnight, Rook."

Davrin ended up heading to his own room not long after, waving goodbye to Evka and Antoine. He stopped short when he reached his room.

On his night stand was a glass filled with small blue flowers.

Chapter Text

The good news is Rook woke up relatively clear headed.

The bad news is they chose to do it on top of a roof, in the middle of the night, in full armor.

Maybe it was just another effect of the blood magic rituals. Maybe their master still had control over them even now. Every single day seemed to give them another reminder that they would never be safe, that they would never truly escape from their master.

It was annoying.

The feeling was foreign, just like the fear and joy that had come in the days before. Of course, blood magic had to ruin their night. They would be lucky to fall back asleep now.

Rook pinched the bridge of their nose. Where were they even? They barely knew how to get around the inside of the fortress, let alone the rooftops.

They climbed up to the next roof, pointed boots and daggers digging into the wall with ease. There were lanterns in the distance, watch towers and passing patrols that left them ducking against the cold stone roof. From here, they could see the blocked in courtyard and the gates.

They should be afraid. They should return to their room immediately and hope no one saw them.

Old instincts itched at the back of their mind as they made their way towards the courtyard. Wardens stalked the grounds in a ceaseless watch. In between one patrol and the next, they dropped to the ground. Dust billowed around them as they rolled forward, running as soon as they could stand to leap at the next wall and claw their way to the top.

Only a cloud of dust remained by the time the next Warden passed.

Rook watched as they walked by, chest heaving as they pushed the hair out of their eyes and back into their hood. They kept low to the ground as they crept to the other edge of the roof.

The courtyard was filled only by shadows. The wedding decorations...

Rook paused, dangling their legs over the ledge. They clearly remembered going to bed last night after finding Davrin's room, but it was somehow earlier than they remembered. Were they missing an entire day?

They picked their way down the wall carefully, checking the windows as they went. The courtyard was too visible for comfort as they touched down. Their only comfort was the moonless night and their own soft footsteps as they made their way to where the table had been.

Not even a scuff of dirt from the furniture being moved. By the fountain, small flowers were budding.

The dull thud of footsteps echoed from behind the courtyard's doors. It only took a few well placed kicks to climb back up, hanging onto the wall until they were long gone.

Behind the windows, the rooms that had been hidden behind closed doors were on display: small offices and storage rooms with stacks of paper and misplaced books. One desk had a little stone figure of Andraste. Another kept a sword leaning against the desk.

Only one window was curtained off.

They were slipping over the sill and through the thick, dark curtains before they had fully thought it through. This office clearly belonged to one of the higher ups, somewhere implicitly forbidden. It didn't stop them from silently drawing the curtains shut behind them.

Davrin and Valya had both commented on the First Warden's secrecy. The room may not be theirs, but it was certainly hiding something. With luck, it would have answers to why the Wardens were recalled and recruited.

The desk was spotless. Then again, even if there was a paper clearly titled 'Warden Agenda', they wouldn't be able to read it. They could only guess the importance of writing by its hiding place.

There weren't many to choose from.

The floor was solid. No holes drilled into the wall or floor. Clean, too, without the scuff marks that would come from moving the desk or bookshelves. The window sill was covered with dust they didn't dare disturb and even the books seemed decorative. It would take too long to check for cut out pages or hidden mechanisms.

They set their sights on the desk instead. The drawers lining both sides didn't have any locks. Inside were the expected ink wells, quills, and blank sheets of paper. No false bottoms, not a single hair tie or key tucked away inside.

It was too perfect. The Wardens must have something to hide, why else would they need curtains so high up? The door was locked even now, though it hardly mattered with Rook already on the other side of it.

Rook trailed their fingers over the desk again. Underneath the drawers, tapping against the sides, freezing when the panel underneath the surface of the desk lifted ever so slightly.

It took more force than expected to shove the wooden slab up and twist to pull it away. The movement nearly sent the papers hidden within flying, quickly pressed down with one hand while they balanced the slat of wood on the other. They crouched slowly, laying their prize out on the floor.

The writing was, of course, meaningless to them. The papers curled at the edges, once rolled into letters. They could recognize the stamp of the Grey Wardens on a few of the letters and some sort of Chantry heraldry on another. Not very useful, all things considered, but the crumpled parchment implied they had been read more than once.

They had to be important. These were official missives, not some treasured love letter.

Someone else could read them to Rook, but they couldn't just take the damn things. This wasn't a mark, after all. There would still be people alive to notice they were missing.

How convenient that paper and quills had already been provided for them.

Using the hidden panel as a desk, they dipped one of the quills in ink and wiped the excess inside the rim of the well. Time seemed like an axe hanging over their head as they painstakingly copied each unknown letter, the ink both blotting and drying out in awkward places so often they bit their lip in frustration.

The forgeries were passable when all was said and done. The quill hadn't cracked, so they carefully cleaned it of ink with their armor before placing it back in the drawer. It took more paper to blot the ink dry, but the difference was minimal.

The original copies were more difficult to order. Without a way to read them, they had to guess based on the differences in age and texture they remembered before tucking them away in the false panel.

Each of the copies were carefully folded and hidden on their person before they stepped over the window sill in an effort to avoid disturbing the dust. The curtains were drawn behind them, just slightly to the left as they remembered them falling as they entered.

For the first time since escaping, Rook felt a sense of accomplishment as they made their way back up to the roof. This was what they were good at: stealth and espionage. Fighting darkspawn was similar enough to the mages they killed, but it was against their nature to confront the threat directly. If it were up to Rook, they'd lob an Antivan fire grenade at the lot of them and turn the survivors into pin cushions.

It was closer to morning than they would have liked as they made their way back towards the gates. It was the only entrance to the main building they knew of and was heavily guarded because of it. Getting caught at the gates would still be better than being spotted slipping in through a window or sneaking in through the courtyard.

Rook crouched as they waited for a gap in the guards' patrols. Most of the watch was focused on the gates, ignoring threats from within. It would be easy to slip down next to the entrance and get inside before-

"Alright up there?" Rook froze.

They had no idea how they had missed someone-a man, somewhere behind them. Apparently, not all of the Wardens were completely unobservant.

Rook didn't bother turning around. After a moment of silence, they called back, "I'm having a bad night." Their tone was as even as they could make it.

There was a pause as the Warden clambered onto the roof with a surprising amount of ease given his armor and the lantern in his hand. He came to stand more than a few feet away from them, clearly wary. "What's the problem?"

"Blood magic."

"That would do it," the man agreed. He came a few steps closer, boots thudding heavily. "You're Davrin's recruit?"

"I guess so." There was little point in lying. Their armor must have been recognizable, sticking out against the silverite armor and blue tabards of the Wardens.

"The name's Thom Rainier." The man stuck his hand out for a shake which Rook awkwardly completed, finally standing up straight to grasp his hand. "What was it you were saying about blood magic?"

Rook sighed, that same foreign twinge of annoyance flaring up. "I woke up here. I was under the effects of blood magic for..." They couldn't even begin to guess how old they were when it started. "I don't know." Even saying that phrase again made them angry. How often were they going to be completely unable to summon even the most basic of information? "No one knows how to fix it."

"You could start by getting off the roof."

Rook didn't quite manage to laugh. The building was short and squat, allowing them to jump from the roof instead of scrambling down. No point in hiding, after all. Rainier jumped down after them as if he was used to this behavior.

"What now?"

Rainier considered them for a moment before sighing. "Normally, I'd be marching you to the night watch."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did." 'Sleepwalking in full armor' wasn't exactly an excuse that inspired confidence. It was about as honest as they could get without admitting to breaking and entering, but no one would ever believe it.

"I don't see a need for it." The human disagreed, walking towards the fortress' main entrance. They fell into step behind him. The lack of reprimand was almost too good to be true and certainly better than they deserved. "Davrin explained it to me. Got an acquaintance in Tevinter we're waiting to hear back from."

"A blood mage?"

"Necromancer. Not sure that's any better."

"Necromancy and blood magic are entirely different." They had to bite their tongue to keep from giving a more in depth explanation.

Rainier ignored the comment and continued. "He might be able to help you."

Rook sighed again. Already, hoping seemed pointless.

They came to a stop in front of the fortress' main entrance, Rainier hovering outside.

"Try to get some sleep," he offered, voice gruff and arms crossed in contrast to the sentiment.

"And if I can't?" The idea of sleeping had become more and more disturbing the longer they were aware and awake. Sleep seemed to obscure their thoughts by design and was never particularly restful.

Rainier considered them for a long moment. "I was going to check the perimeter for darkspawn. You can come with if you can keep up."

Rook nodded, more grateful than they could articulate. All the cooking and talking was well enough, but even wearing their armor was a greater comfort than they realized.

The gates weren't far, though one of the guards spit at their feet as they passed by. Rainier idly gave the Warden a quick two fingered salute as they made their way down.

"You know Davrin, then?"

"I was the one that recruited him." Despite his tone, he didn't seem upset that they were talking. "Good kid."

"Why did you join the Wardens?"

For a moment, they thought he wouldn't answer. "I'd prefer not to talk about it."

Rook didn't ask any more questions after that.

They clung to the cliffs holding up the fortress, stopping only to peer into one of the dark crevices to check for monsters.

Almost too quickly, Rainier signaled them to stop. "Darkspawn." He set the lantern down and hefted his shield up before drawing his sword.

Even with the light of the lantern, Rook couldn't see anything. Still, they drew their bow, falling behind Rainier to fight.

Then, they felt it.

The sensation was entirely alien-not a smell or a sound, except for the shiver as if someone was whispering in their ear. It felt as if someone else was pressing into their skull.

It was slightly similar to blood magic.

Their first arrow had been loosed before they fully thought of aiming. There was a soft thud as one of those foreign presences winked out, followed by the monstrous growls and hisses of the darkspawn.

Rainier lashed out into the darkness, something crunching under his blade. Rook turned to the next sickly itch and loosed another arrow, but the next was not so easily felled. The dull clang was their only hint that their prey was wearing armor before it charged into the light.

The warrior caught it with his shield and threw it back into the darkness. There were more of them at the edges of Rook's awareness, though they weren't clear enough to aim for. After another useless shot, one of their arrows finally found a gap in the hurlock's armor. It wasn't deep enough to kill, but it staggered the beast for long enough that Rainier was able to skewer it through the throat.

The last one died similarly. "Good shot," Rainier offered, pulling his blade from the corpse. "They should never have made it this close to Weisshaupt. The guard has been slacking ever since the wedding."

Rook stopped in the middle of stowing away their bow. The wedding was just yesterday, wasn't it? They clearly recalled searching for Davrin's room, flowers in hand.

Flowers that were already beginning to grow again.

"How long has it been since the wedding?"

Rainier gave them an odd look as he slung his shield across his back. "A week, now."

It shouldn't have been so surprising. They barely remembered their mornings and nights. A missing day or week was almost expected.

"I think my night just got worse," they admitted. Rainier didn't quite laugh, almost scoffing at them as they started picking their way across the landscape again. They had thought the chill was just from the late hour, but it was suddenly entirely possible that Summer was fading. How much were they missing?

Rainier's silence was no help in sorting their thoughts. The need to do something, anything, was ruthlessly quashed by the fact they had no idea what to do. The only real solution rolling around their mind was to find another blood mage and somehow convince them to help.

Not that they were eager to let another mage play with their mind.

Rainier beheaded a charging genlock without any help.

"Do you think there are more darkspawn than usual?" The other Wardens acted as if the Anderfels were simply infested, too many Deep Roads entrances scattered across the plains.

"Maybe." Still not helpful.

Despite their worries, no other darkspawn crossed their path. The land seemed barren in comparison to Tevinter. Until tonight, they could almost pretend nothing had changed. The feeling of the darkspawn inside their skull had irreversibly changed that.

They circled back to the entrance not long after the sun had started to bleed across the horizon. The now useless lantern dangled from Rainier's hand as they reentered the fortress, once again met by sneers.

Rook hadn't thought of it before, but Davrin's group was quite insular. The other Wardens regarded them all oddly and avoided them when possible. They couldn't remember ever speaking to any other Wardens, not that remembering counted for much.

The usual group-Davrin, Valya, Reimas, and Caronel-were clustered in their usual spot not far from the gates. Davrin was the first to notice them, tapping Valya on the shoulder and pointing as they approached.

"There you are." The words were accompanied by a relieved sigh, Davrin pulling them in by the shoulder as soon as they were close enough. He tucked them under his arm like it was a completely normal thing to do.

"We were worried about you." Rook was momentarily worried they'd disappeared for a week before Valya continued, "You weren't in your room this morning." She, too, crowded in close to squeeze their arm.

"My fault, I'm afraid," Rainier cut in smoothly. That single sentence drew all eyes to him as he leaned against the nearby wall, arms crossed against his chest. "Took a walk outside."

"Thank you for keeping an eye on them," Davrin spoke before Valya could. "You couldn't sleep?"

"I woke up on the roof," Rook explained before Rainier could try. There wasn't any use lying at this point.

"Drank too much of your vintage?" Caronel's tone was light even as his eyes demanded an answer.

"Am I not allowed to leave my room?" Their voice was deceptively mild in return.

"We're just worried about you," Davrin repeated, moving to clasp their shoulder. "Come on, I saved you some breakfast."

Davrin let go of them to pick up their bowl where it had been resting on the ground. It was only cold porridge with a few scattered raisins, but they weren't about to complain. The first spoonful reminded them of how hungry they were, barely stopping to chew as they asked, "Where are the griffons?"

"Haven't seen them yet this morning," Davrin explained. "They've been stir crazy since they started to glide, so we're taking the whole clutch out today."

"I'm a bit worried about that," Valya admitted, leaning on her staff. "I spoke to the Roostmaster and he says he'll be taking the other griffons out one at a time."

"That doesn't seem practical," Reimas said. "Did you want help with Crookytail and Assan?"

"I'm sure we'll need it. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

"That's a good idea, Reimas. How about you two go with Valya and I'll take Thom and Rook?"

Valya's lip twitched as she nodded in agreement to Davrin's offer. "We'll go ahead, then. Good luck, you two!"

Rook waited for her to step out of shouting range before asking, "Why does Valya hate him so much?"

Davrin winced, glancing at Rainier before clapping the man on the shoulder in what seemed to be a show of support. "We all had our own lives before joining the Wardens. Occasionally, people are conscripted out of the gallows." He hesitated, clearly considering his next words carefully.

Rainier had no such qualms. "I massacred a man's entire family, including his children. That's why she hates me."

"Oh. I don't know if I've killed any children." It was possible, they supposed.

"That's it?" Rainier prompted. Rook only shrugged in return.

Perhaps one confession deserved another, but they didn't want to even think about those foggy memories. It was enough for people to know they were a murderer: they would just keep their nightmares to themself.

"You seem nice," they finally settled on when the silence had dragged on too long.

Rainier snorted as if it were a joke. "Right. Come on, then." Rainier gestured them back towards the fortress. Davrin shot them a thumbs up and a smile once Rainier's back was turned.

"You can go put your bowl away, Rook. I'm going to get Assan and we can meet near the storehouses?"

"I don't know where that is." It was becoming an issue. Now that they thought about it, Senior Howe may have given them a tour at some point, but they couldn't remember any of it.

"Thom will show you," Davrin promised, splitting off from them at the entrance. "See you soon!"

The walk to the dining hall was both awkward and silent. What were they supposed to talk about? Favorite way to kill a man? They returned their bowl to the kitchens, earning a cheery wave from Antoine who was apparently on dish washing duty. Meanwhile, the letters were burning a hole in their armor.

Davrin felt like the obvious choice to read them. They just had to wait until they were alone.

"You seem close," Rainier suddenly announced. He seemed to regret speaking at all, his mouth pinched into a terse line.

"To who?"

"All of them, I suppose."

Rook watched as he rolled his shoulders, each step measured as he led them to a few short buildings made of the same stone as the rest of the fortress. It may have even been one of the roofs they ran across last night. "I don't think so."

Rainier only raised an eyebrow for them to go on.

"I haven't spoken to them much." After growing up with only a few other people, knowing each song they hummed and which way they preferred the laundry folded, it was difficult to imagine being close to anyone else in the same way. "Except Davrin."

"They're good people."

Rook wasn't. They may not have felt as guilty as Rainier clearly did, but they had killed and stalked and stolen. They could only hope Davrin wouldn't turn them in when they showed him the letters.

Assan arrived ahead of Davrin, claws gouging the dry earth as he slid up to them with a cheerful squawk. Rook took the chance to stroke his face and neck, watching as Assan leaned into their hands.

"How did you want to do this?" Rainier asked, politely turning to face Davrin while Rook crouched down to scratch the griffon's chest.

"I'm not sure. Valya's journal didn't have anything on them learning how to fly. The best we can tell, they usually just start swooping out of the roosts, but we've been keeping them in the convalescent roosts for hatchlings. It isn't open to the mountainside like the main roost," Davrin added as explanation.

"Won't be able to keep them there forever," Rainier commented as Rook took a step back. "They'll end up killing each other confined in that tiny little space." Assan followed them, head tilted curiously as they made their way to the storehouse.

"I know. The Roostmaster doesn't like it either, but we're still under orders to keep them isolated." Davrin's voice faded into the background as they stripped off their gloves in order to dig their nails into the wall.

"Any word from the First Warden?" Rook made it halfway up the wall before Assan began to claw their way up beside them.

Rook glanced back when Davrin didn't immediately respond only to find him already watching them. They waved. He looked away. "Not yet," he finally answered as Rook hauled themself up the wall. "I know Valya's starting to worry."

The building wasn't too tall.

Rook backed away from the ledge, clicking their tongue for Assan's attention before taking a running leap off the roof. The fall was longer than they were used to, but they managed to tuck into a roll that kept the impact manageable.

Rainier cursed when they hit the ground beside him. "For a moment, I thought the Inquisitor was here." Assan glided down far more gracefully. The griffon flapped his wings twice, briefly lifting into the air before he hit the ground.

"The Inquisitor used to jump off buildings?" Davrin helped Rook up, watching as Assan climbed halfway up the wall only to jump again.

"All of the damned time."

Davrin and Rook lingered awkwardly as Rainier sighed, staring up at the storehouse as though it might summon them.

"Maker only knows what they're up to now."

"Still haven't gotten a reply from magister Pavus?" Davrin prompted. Rook was only vaguely familiar with the name. The previous magister had been replaced by his son a few years ago.

Rainier's jaw twitched as he shook his head. "Sorry. I wish I had better news."

"Thanks for trying." Davrin's voice was low as Rainier turned away from them.

"I think I'll head back now. Try not to break anything."

Rook watched him go. They should probably pity the man, but they were only glad to have a chance to speak with Davrin alone.

They barely waited for Rainier to be out of earshot before pulling the letters out at last. "I found something, but I didn't know what it said." The writing would make it obvious where they found it, but they weren't about to confess. "Can you read these for me?"

"Sure, I think Assan's got gliding practice covered. Let's see. To the..." Davrin paused, meeting their eye briefly. "First Warden."

Rook remained stubbornly silent even as Davrin took a step back to read over the letter himself. His brow was furrowed as he shuffled to the next letter without any hint for what it said.

When Davrin was done reading, he looked them in the eye once more. "We need to find Thom."

Chapter Text

Thom couldn't have gotten far. That didn't stop Davrin from hurrying after him, Assan and Rook nipping at his heels on either side.

Rook was nearly running to keep up. Davrin would have felt worse about it if they didn't just hand him highly sensitive information in broad daylight: the arrow slits felt much more threatening when openly carrying contraband.

They slowed to a less suspicious pace outside the main building, as much as Davrin wanted to run to catch up the moment he spotted Rainier's armor. "Let's split up-we'll have to meet somewhere private."

"My roommates are dead," Rook offered.

"Yes, perfect." Davrin spared a brief moment to realize he now considered that a normal exchange as he slipped inside. He normally wouldn't let Assan inside of the actual fortress, but he wasn't going to waste time bringing him back to the roost. "Go find the others, we'll meet in your room. Thom! A word?"

Rook split off, angling towards the kitchens as Thom looked him over.

"What is it?" He said it like he was expecting one of them to be on fire.

"Come with me." Davrin steered the man by the shoulder towards the barracks. There wasn't much room for privacy at the fortress, especially since they'd all been summoned. The courtyard would usually be private enough, except for the fact the First Warden's office had a window straight to it. "It's important, I promise."

Rook's room was nearly as empty as their first week there. The only sign of life was the comb left on the night stand. It was a stupid thing to focus on given the situation, but the half finished figurine started burning a hole in his pocket, anyways.

Davrin was somewhat surprised that no one had moved in yet. New arrivals had slowed to a near stop, but most people would jump at the chance to have one roommate instead of three.

"This isn't your room."

"It's Rook's room." Davrin hesitated before handing him the first of four letters. "You need to read this."

Normally, he would have waited until everyone was here, but Rainier deserved to see it first.

Assan hopped up on one of the beds while Davrin lit the sconces. Rainier waited, hovering by the firelight to read. "This isn't the Inquisitor's handwriting."

"From what I could tell, Rook made a copy. They don't even know what it says."

Rainier hummed, not deigning to respond as he read it through again.

The door creaked open, allowing the horde of Wardens to enter. Rook pulled their hood down the moment they were through the doorway, settling cross legged on their bed.

"That was fast." Thom wasn't necessarily a speed reader, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes all together.

"Caronel and Reimas were in the courtyard, and they knew where Valya would be."

"You know our schedules?" Caronel asked, earning a half nod, half shrug from Rook. "You haven't been talking to Berrith, have you?"

Valya barked a laugh and immediately covered her mouth with her hand afterwards. "Sorry. Why are we here? Is Assan okay?"

The griffon had stretched out across the bed. Davrin could only hope his claws didn't leave holes in the mattress.

"He's fine. Rook found something-Thom? If you're comfortable sharing?"

Thom stilled under everyone's sudden attention.

"Well, apparently I'm dead."

"That's what it said?" Rook questioned, propping an elbow up on their knee to rest their chin in their hand.

"It was a letter from the Inquisitor thanking the First Warden for Rainier's Warden-Constable badge," Davrin explained.

"He confiscated it a while back on account of me impersonating the man." Thom handed the letter back with a scowl. "I suppose we know now why no one's written back."

"I haven't heard from my clan, either." There was always the chance they hadn't stopped by Hasmal in a while, though it was starting to seem less likely.

Valya settled on the bed next to Rook with a frown. "They haven't let us travel, either. They've kept us all here for nearly a year now, but why?"

Davrin clutched the second letter in his hand before grimly passing it to Valya. "There's more. Read this-"

"Aloud, if you please."

"Right, sorry." Davrin wondered if Rook knew that their accent got stronger when they were sneering like that. "Valya?"

"To the First Warden," Valya enunciated clearly, leaning closer to Rook so she could point out each word. "First of all, I want a griffon."

"Who wrote this?" Reimas interrupted.

"It's signed the Hero of Ferelden. Well, one of the e's looks more like an a, but I'm fairly certain."

"Is my handwriting really that bad?"

"Not at all. You found the original copies in the First Warden's office?"

"I don't know. It was the room with the curtains."

Davrin winced, clearly recalling his one meeting with the man. "That's the one. Would you mind reading the rest?"

"Right. First of all, I want a griffon. Second of all, I no longer hear the song of the blight. My hands have stopped shaking. The damage of the Joining cannot be fully undone, but I'm no longer on the verge of turning into a ghoul. There is a cure.

"I'll be returning to Weisshaupt soon. Delay everyone's final journey to the Deep Roads, if you can. No Warden will succumb to the blight ever again."

To newer recruits like Rook and Valya, the Calling didn't mean much. Caronel, on the other hand, looked stricken. Every Warden accepted the life sentence that came with the Joining. Dying young was almost lucky compared to facing the endless darkspawn in the Deep Roads.

What were you supposed to do with decades of life when you expected to be dead?

Davrin was the one to break the silence. "That must be why they've gathered us all here for so long."

"Why didn't they inform us? What even is the cure?" Caronel asked, one hand carding through his hair.

"If they can cure us, why bring in new Wardens?" Rook countered. "A cure for the Calling must be a cure for the blight."

"I don't know." Davrin was glad they all found it as suspicious as he did, at least. None of what Rook found was strictly malicious, but it certainly didn't make him feel confident in the order. "There are two more letters. One is from Orzammar about the pools Ramesh found and the other is from when Clarel was Warden-Commander of Orlais."

"They knew she was using blood magic," Thom guessed without so much as a glance at the letter.

Davrin only nodded.

"The Wardens have used blood magic in the past, but Adamant Fortress was..."

"Worse than Soldier's Peak," Caronel finished on Valya's behalf.

"Demon infested fortresses," Davrin explained briefly upon seeing Rook's scrunched up nose. "If the First Warden had a hand in what happened at Adamant, then he's responsible for all of those possessions and deaths."

"What would be the point of letting all those Wardens die? What in Andraste's name is he planning?" Valya got up to pace, absently taking the other letters from Davrin's hand as she walked.

"Whatever it is, they don't want the Inquisition catching word of it." Thom's lip curled at the reminder. "I don't like this."

"So, best case scenario, we'll all be cured of the Blight. What's the worst they could do to us?" Davrin was surprised Caronel didn't have his own answer for that.

"They've already isolated us and faked Rainier's death to unknown ends," Reimas gestured to the man in question. "I doubt they would take kindly to our questions."

"They could withhold the cure," Valya thought aloud, shuffling between each letter with only a few seconds of pause to read each. "I don't think they would try Commander Clarel's method again, given how it worked out last time."

"It's still a possibility." Caronel argued. "He must be hiding these things for a reason."

"He could be possessed, himself." Rook's idle suggestion was all too realistic: very few Wardens survived Adamant. The Chantry wanted to execute the remaining mages in case they were possessed-it was entirely possible others were bound to demons, too. "He could use the pools for his own purposes, perhaps to alter the griffons. He may want to destroy the cure to prevent anyone from using it."

"I was worried he was going to Join the griffons," Valya admitted. "It wouldn't be the first time the Wardens have experimented on them. He could be keeping them hidden so no one has a chance to protest. The Roostmaster said they want to ensure none of the clutch inherited the griffons' madness before letting them bond with other Wardens."

"I didn't know that." Davrin thought that other griffon riders would be selected now that they were starting to fly, but apparently their age was only an excuse.

Valya shrugged, refusing to meet his eye. "He might be holding the griffons back for some other reason. As long as no one else knows about the griffons, they could do anything to them."

"It could be nothing," Reimas offered softly. "Petty revenge on Rainier, perhaps, but none of this is damning."

"You've never trusted the Wardens, Valya." Caronel's gaze froze her on the spot. "If your suspicions are correct, we need to prepare."

Thom replied quickly enough that Davrin was certain he'd been planning this for years. "Be ready to leave at a moment's notice. There's no telling when they'll make a move."

"Burn those letters," Reimas added. "Don't mention this to anyone outside of this room."

"If you need to, you can actually flee inwards," Rook suggested. "The Wardens would be focused on guarding exits. The courtyard's the only part of the building with actual windows on every floor and scaling the walls tends to lose people."

"You did a fine job getting these papers, Rook, but you need to be careful." Davrin wasn't sure if he was more concerned for Rook or anyone who made the mistake of questioning them. "No more sneaking out in the middle of the night."

"I really did wake up on a roof."

... Yeah, that made sense.

"If you don't wake up inside the First Warden's office, then don't go in."

"What about the other offices?"

Davrin couldn't even tell if they were joking. "If it's liable to get you killed or arrested, please don't do it. That goes for all of you."

"We need a plan to get the griffons out." Valya reminded them. Even if the griffons weren't in danger right now, that could change quickly. It wouldn't be right to leave them behind if they had to escape, but getting thirteen griffons out of Weisshaupt would be challenging. "The roost is too far from the gates. Crookytail and Assan would follow us, but the others won't listen."

"A matter for another time." Rainier held up a hand to stall Valya's protest. "Someone will notice we're all missing eventually. I'm supposed to be training some of the new recruits right about now."

"We can meet up again once we've had time to figure out a plan for the griffons." Davrin nodded to Valya who took it as her signal to stand.

"If you think of anything, let me know."

"Of course."

Rainier cracked the door open to check the hallway before stepping out. "Try to leave in different directions. Don't make it obvious we're all leaving the same place."

Reimas wrapped a comforting arm around Valya's shoulders as they left, leaning in to whisper something to her. Caronel followed shortly after.

Davrin hesitated to follow the others out, glancing at Assan where he was sprawled across the bed and whistling in his sleep. Rainier was the last to leave, quirking an eyebrow at Davrin before he shut the door behind him.

"How are you feeling?" Davrin kept his voice soft as he sat down next to Rook. At some point, they had migrated to the edge of the bed so their feet were flat against the floor.

Rook kept quiet for long enough that he worried they were simply gone again. "I'm fine."

"I'm not." The Wardens had become a second family to him. He knew the Wardens had made mistakes in the past, but this was different. Everyone he loved was in danger. "I hate that our only option is to wait. I'd rather march up to the First Warden and demand answers, but he could turn the entire fortress against us."

Rook hesitated before resting a hand on his knee. The motion was awkward and wary and incredibly endearing. "I know. I wish I had more time to search his office, but it took me too long to write everything down."

"Hey, you did great! You broke into the First Warden's office without being caught!" Davrin shook them by the shoulder, but they only miserably replied.

"Rainier caught me."

"He thought you just woke up out there, right? You definitely got away with it." Not that he should be encouraging that behavior.

"I guess so." Rook sighed, squeezing his knee. "What time is it, anyways? It was the middle of the night when I woke up."

"It's probably around noon by now." It was hard to tell. Like Rook said, the fortress didn't have many windows. "I should bring Assan down for lunch."

"But he looks so comfortable?"

Davrin looked to where Assan had flipped over onto his back, feet kicking in his sleep as he slept.

"... He can sleep a little while longer." Assan would someday be a thousand pound darkspawn killing machine. That day was not today.

"You really think the First Warden would hurt him?"

"It's..." Davrin sighed and shut his eyes. Assan used to be so much smaller, wings all downy fluff. He would never know what Assan looked like freshly hatched, though, and that was because the First Warden decided to hide them all. "The Wardens have always been secretive. I wouldn't expect them to tell us everything, but faking Rainier's death? That's different. That's what makes me worried about everything else."

"And the blood magic," Rook added.

"And the blood magic," he agreed. He knew the Wardens allowed it's use occasionally, but Adamant fortress was about a hundred steps too far. "I just don't think we can trust him. It might be nothing, but it's better to be prepared."

"Speaking of, where do you plan on going?"

Davrin barely resisted the urge to groan. He knew they must have been forgetting something. "Not sure." Anywhere in the Anderfels was out of the question. Returning to his clan was too dangerous, not to mention they needed somewhere to keep the griffons. "Some of the older Warden keeps have roosts. We'll figure it out."

"We will." Davrin opened his eyes to meet Rook's. They had moved closer, barely even having to reach out to link their pinkies together. The silence following their promise dragged on, neither of them pulling away.

When it became clear Rook didn't plan on moving, Davrin clenched his jaw and slid his hand away as gently as possible. Rook let him stand, eyes flickering over his face as he forced a smile. "I better get Assan back. He'll start chewing on the walls if he doesn't get his meals on time."

Assan perked up like a mabari at the mention of food, half rolling off the bed in his attempt to beg Davrin for food.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

Davrin's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

Rook shrugged, shifting away from him. Their fingers twisted into the sheets as they stared down at the floor. Davrin leaned down to tuck their hair out of the way, finally earning a response. "... I don't want to wake up like that again."

"Of course." It was difficult not to hug them. They had seemed so confident, he hadn't even considered how horrible it would be to wake up all alone in an unfamiliar place. "I'll bring my things down after I take Assan back to the roost."

"Right." Rook's face betrayed nothing as they slipped away from him to ruffle Assan's feathers. "I think I'll join Rainier for training." Davrin winced. Personally, he would never join Rainier for training willingly. He guessed Rook would learn why in a moment. "You can stop by whenever you like."

"I'll find you before dinner, alright? We can discuss escape plans, then."

"If only there were more windows." Rook sighed longingly.

Davrin allowed himself to watch them for a moment, taking in the tangles of their hair and every jagged line of stitches keeping their armor together. Then, he took a deep breath and opened the door to let Assan out.

They had plenty of time. Nothing needed to change.