With thanks to mackillian for the beta!

Chapter 17 – Welcome to the Wardens

Neve took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in." The answering voice was husky and low, yet distinctly feminine.

Neve opened the door and stepped inside. The former guard took her in for the briefest moment before snapping to attention with a brisk salute. "Commander."

Neve smiled politely. "You don't need to do that. We're not really big on formalities here. You must be Janna. I'm Neve."

Janna returned the smile, flipping the end of her long braid over her shoulder with a practiced ease. "I'm very pleased to meet you. I know of you, of course. I was at the gates during the Battle of Denerim. Captain Farel's regiment."

"I remember hearing afterwards that the groups at the gates took heavy losses." Neve's memories of the battle were hazy at best, the damage that she'd taken from the Archdemon having obliterated most of them. She remembered Alistair's anger at being left behind—their final confrontation before she had stormed past him into the city. But, more than anything, what clung to her fragmented memories of that day was a feeling of heaviness, a shard of ice plunged deep into her chest… like when she had lost Rel. She blinked, feeling the ghost of that weight settling into her, like rainwater seeping into shattered stone.

"We did. From my regiment, there was only a handful that survived. It's where I got this." Janna held up her left hand, the tips missing from her last three fingers. "It's my shield arm, at least, and my grip is still passable, so it could have been worse."

"I'd show you mine, but I'd have to take off my shirt and, trust me when I say that I'm not doing that again today. Don't ask," Neve said, at Janna's puzzled expression. "How are you settling in so far?"

"It's going to be strange, not going back to Denerim. I've lived there my whole life. The room is wonderful, though. It's been a long time since I've had a room all to myself." She smiled; an easy, confident grin that reminded Neve of Anders.

"Do you have family there? A husband?" Neve couldn't bring herself to ask about children.

"My parents, my brother, and a few aunts and uncles. Cousins. I'm not married. There's too much fun to be had without being tied down, if you know what I mean." She grinned at Neve.

Neve couldn't help the small sigh of relief that escaped. "I know what you mean." Although, I'm sure someone else here knows what you mean far more than I do. The thought set her strangely on edge and she brushed her hand roughly across the hair on top of her head. "There are a few other things we need to talk about as well."

"Of course." Janna stood up a little straighter, her posture clearly one of someone accustomed to taking orders.

"Why don't we sit down?" Neve gestured at chairs that sat next to the window, relics of some bygone era where, no doubt, generations of Howes had once sat. The garishly colored upholstery clashed horrifically with the muted colors that dominated the rest of the room. Janna sat down, her expression serious, as Neve perched on the edge of her chair like a bird ready to take flight. She took a deep breath. "So, what do you already know about the Grey Wardens?"

"As much as anybody does, I suppose. They're dedicated to stopping Blights and they answer to no one but themselves. There's a secret ritual that you go through when you join them, but I know about that one already." She chuckled, a warm, rich sound. "They're immune to the Blight disease. They're always hungry. I can certainly vouch for that one. And, they're supposed to have the most amazing… stamina. Please, tell me that one's true."

Neve allowed herself a small smile, thinking of what it had been like after she and Alistair had finally succumbed to the power of their mutual attraction. It slowly faded as the thoughts of the way things were now crept in, bleeding away the color of her memories and leaving them as stark as shadows.

"Yes, the stamina one is true, and everything else you said as well. Only a Grey Warden can stop a Blight, although we don't need to get into the details of why that is right now." The last thing Neve needed at the moment was someone else wondering why she was still alive. As much as she'd tried to push the thoughts of Morrigan from her mind, she really needed to speak with Alistair again about finding her. Surely he had Zevran looking for her by now, although she hadn't heard anything from him in months. Was he still in Antiva?

Janna was looking at her expectantly as Neve abruptly pulled her thoughts back to the task at hand. She rubbed the palms of her hands over her knees. "Grey Wardens operate independently of any nation, and stopping a Blight takes priority over everything else. If there was an Archdemon in Orlais, that's where we would all be headed, without question."

Janna stopped her. "Then why didn't the other Wardens come to Ferelden to help us? There's a branch in every country in Thedas, isn't there?"

Neve sighed. "The Orlesians tried, although I don't know about anyone else. Loghain wouldn't let them in. Just because we don't answer to anyone doesn't mean we don't get fucked over by politics." She plowed ahead, determined not to let her momentum drop now that she had started. "Grey Wardens are immune to Blight disease, in a way, because we essentially already have it. It just takes a lot longer for us to fully feel the effects. Being tainted like we are has its advantages. We can sense darkspawn and each other, although that takes a while to develop. Eventually, darkspawn will be able to sense you as well."

"I've had a few nightmares since the Joining. Is that normal?" Janna grimaced, leaning back in her chair.

"During a Blight, we often see the Archdemon in our dreams." Neve shuddered involuntarily. "But, yes, nightmares are normal, even outside of a Blight."

Janna leaned forward and eyed her slowly. "I take it these aren't going to go away?"

"They should. Over time, you'll have them less often." It was an effort to keep her expression neutral. Hopefully, Anders latest sleeping draught would be more effective than the last one. "There are... other downsides, too. You already mentioned the hunger. It's not a huge deal here, where we have more than enough but, when you don't, it's almost unbearable."

That was the biggest fucking understatement of the year.

She remembered sobbing, her stomach aching so badly that she could barely breathe; she and Alistair guiltily sneaking extra rations from the group's limited food stores because the pain was just too much to endure. "The taint changes us in ways we don't fully understand yet. We do know that it's almost impossible for a Warden to have children. I don't know if that's an issue for you, or not."

Janna shook her head and smiled. "No issues there. In fact, that makes things easier, in a lot of ways."

Neve swallowed. Janna's hair was the same pale blonde that Dani's had been. How many more lives did she need to destroy? "The other thing we know is that the taint shortens our lives. We're still corrupted… and it catches up to us. Apparently, you start to hear the Old Gods singing to you, just like the darkspawn hear all the time. When your Calling comes, most Wardens make their way to the Deep Roads in Orzammar to fall in battle before becoming fully corrupted."

"How long do we have, after the Joining?" Janna had gone still.

"It depends a little on how old you were at the time of your Joining, but it seems to be around twenty years or so, from what I've heard."

"Oh!" Janna relaxed back into the chair. "That's not so bad."

Neve exhaled loudly. "Can I just say that you're taking all of this way better than I did?"

"In twenty years, I'm going to be getting too old for this kind of life anyway. If I'd stayed with the palace guard for twenty years, they'd have stuck me with some boring job doing paperwork or, if I was lucky, training recruits. I have no desire to be hobbling around with people feeling sorry for me." She shrugged. "Besides, I was dying when his Majesty put me through the Joining. I figure everything I've got now is just a bonus, and I don't intend to waste it."

"I'm sorry we couldn't tell you all of this in advance, not that it would have made much of a difference in your case. Do you have any questions? Anything I can help with?"

"You've answered most of them already." Janna thought for a moment. "Are there any rules here about... fraternization, just so I know?"

Neve shook her head. "No rules, as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties." Right, like she was one to talk. "Your pickings are pretty slim at the moment, though, unless you have a thing for dwarves that smell like they've been marinating inside a keg for a few days."

"I don't know, the dark-haired one is cute and the blond one with the ponytail looks like fun." Janna grinned.

Neve tried to ignore the prickle of—was it annoyance?—that rippled through her. "I'll take you down to the training yard and introduce you to everyone."

"That would be great. I feel like I've been lying around doing nothing for days. Oh, and I suppose I'm going to need new armor and weapons, since what I have now technically belongs to the palace guard."

Neve stood up. "Not a problem. We have some extra equipment that Weisshaupt sent and we should be able to find you something suitable."

"Sounds good to me." Janna rose as well. "Thanks, Commander. I'm ready when you are."

"Let's go see what you can do then."

oOoOo

The heat of the summer sun hit them like a wall as they strolled out to the training yard, having stopped first to retrieve Neve's cleaned armor from Varel, and then at the equipment room to find practice leathers for Janna. The air outside was sticky and humid, settling on Neve's skin as she walked, a sharp contrast to the coolness that lingered within the stone walls of the Keep. She couldn't help a small sigh at the smell of the fresh grass with the softest whisper of salt from the sea. Summers in the Alienage had reeked of piss and garbage, a stench that she'd honestly never even noticed until she'd returned during the Blight.

Neve glanced over at Janna walking beside her, the silence between them still slightly more awkward than comfortable. As much as she appreciated the fact that they really did need more Wardens, the thought of disrupting their now closely-knit group made her a little unsettled. In the distance, she could see Nathaniel shooting arrows at a target towards the far end of the yard. His movements were precise and unerring as he drew an arrow from the quiver at his back, nocked it and shot, his hand already reaching back for the next one. Oghren sat slumped on one of the long benches that lined the side of the yard next to the Keep, watching Nathaniel fire and taking the occasional long draw from his waterskin. He was the first to notice them approaching.

"Hey! Commander! You finally getting your sodding ass back to work, or what?"

Neve maneuvered through the narrow gap in the fence, motioning for Janna to follow her. "Yeah, you certainly look like you're working hard. Picking up the finer points of archery, are you? Or are you just staring at Nathaniel's ass?"

"Eh. Can't it be both?" Oghren belched and wiped his mouth on his arm as he pushed himself upright, giving her a grin. "Good to have you back to normal, Commander. Not that I was worried about you, in case you're getting the wrong idea."

Neve slapped him on the shoulder. "It's good to be back." She turned and beckoned Janna closer. "This is Janna, our new Warden. Janna, this is Oghren."

Oghren looked her slowly up and down. "Not a dwarf, but she'll do, I guess. I approve."

"Keep it in your pants, dwarf. Are you and Anders teaming up now?"

Neve gave Oghren a playful shove just as Nathaniel walked up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Commander, how are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks. How's the leg?"

Nathaniel picked up a waterskin from the bench and took a short pull. "Still a bit stiff, but it's not too bad." He turned to Janna and offered her his hand. "You must be Janna. I'm Nathaniel."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, both of you," she said with a warm smile that was clearly only for Nathaniel's benefit. She turned to Oghren, giving him the same slow appraisal he had given her. "I'm more than you can handle anyway, so don't get your hopes up."

"A challenge? Well, now, they didn't call me the ladykiller of Orzammar for nothing." Oghren waggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning himself another shove from Neve.

"No Anders yet?" Neve asked.

Nathaniel shook his head and drank again. "I haven't seen him since breakfast, where it would have been difficult to miss the quantity of sausages he inhaled. Was he planning on coming down?"

"He told me he was. He was working in the lab last I saw him." Neve pushed her fingers through her hair. It was getting longer again but she'd been hesitating about cutting it. "Let's get to it. There's no sense waiting."

Oghren made a congested snort that was sufficiently loud and vile enough to draw the gazes of all three of them before heaving up the blunted axe that stood propped against the side of the bench. "Come on, nughumpers. Who wants the first taste of ol' Oghren?" He looked pointedly at Janna, who rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you spar with Nathaniel while Janna and I warm up? Then we can trade off."

"Of course, Commander." Nathaniel carefully leaned his bow against the wall of the Keep and unbuckled his quiver, setting it down next to his bow.

Oghren paced up the side of the training yard, swinging his axe in an easy arc and humming a tune under his breath, something with incredibly filthy lyrics, no doubt. The rest of them made their way to the equipment rack in the far corner of the yard to select their own practice weapons; Neve and Nathaniel each chose a pair of blunted daggers, glancing at each other with a smile. Janna drew out a longsword, and picked up one of the wooden shields that had sat untouched from the crate of donated equipment that had arrived from Weisshaupt a few weeks earlier. They were nowhere near new, but still serviceable. The griffon that had been stenciled on the front, in what appeared to have once been dark blue ink, had faded into a ghost of its former glory amidst the other scratches and gouges that marred its surface.

Neve strolled over to the straw practice dummies and set her daggers down near the base of one while she stretched. Her muscles protested the motion at first, the minor aches and pains from their earlier battles still present as she slowly moved through the series of motions that Alistair had taught her. The fluid movement from one position to the next came without thinking now, as she tried to concentrate on nothing but the flow of her breath. Nathaniel and Oghren had started sparring on the far side of the training yard and Janna was limbering herself up in a similar fashion nearby, but Neve let the images and sounds float over her.

When she had finished her initial warm up, she began her second, with daggers in hand this time. Crouching before her practice dummy, she chose a target and feinted back, imagining the likely defense in her mind's eye as she whirled in with one arm up to block the imagined downward sweep of the dummy's forearm and she plunged a daggered hand into the pulse point at the base of the head where its neck should have been. Methodically, she cycled through them all—the ones she had learned on her own in the Alienage, the few Duncan had showed her and the rest that she had picked up from Leliana, Zevran, and Alistair over the long months on the road during the Blight. Sweat dripped down her forehead and into her eyes, the burn both uncomfortable and familiar. She grinned as she twisted to punch a dagger into the dummy's torso.

By the time she was satisfied, she was nearly out of breath, with sweat trickling in tiny rivulets under the various pieces of her armor. Janna was watching Oghren and Nathaniel, swinging her longsword through the air as she battled an imaginary opponent. "I'm ready when you are, Commander."

"Why don't we start? We'll let those two finish their bout before we trade off. First to three points?"

"Sure." Janna stepped back a few paces until they were a suitable distance apart.

Neve met her eyes and nodded, both of them bowing low to signal the start of the match. They circled each other warily at first; Janna was definitely going to be stronger than her, her frame accustomed to heavy armor, and likely quicker, too, as she was only in practice leathers today. But, she would be less accustomed to the lack of bulk, underestimating her amount of maneuverability to compensate for the armor that wasn't there. Janna lunged forward suddenly, pressing forward with her shield tucked in tight against her chest and her blade sweeping outward. Her degree of reach with her weapon was impressive, though not surprising, since she was nearly as tall as Nathaniel.

Neve feinted to the left and then dodged right, anticipating Janna's next move. The former guard's style was similar to Alistair's, and Neve fell easily into a familiar pattern that had been effective against him. Coming at Janna aggressively, Neve drove her backward, striking at points just beyond the top and bottom edges of her shield, forcing Janna to continually adjust her shield's position in order to compensate—top left, top left, bottom right. The moment when Janna relaxed slightly, her shield twitching over in anticipation of where the next blow would land, Neve leapt forward, the point of her blunted dagger touching the base of Janna's neck just above her collar bone.

"Point," Neve said, withdrawing the dagger.

Janna nodded in acknowledgement, only slightly out of breath. "Nice."

They both backed up and bowed again, Janna coming after her immediately with a broad sweep at her legs. Neve retreated then lunged forward as Janna's sword arm swung past her, darting in to jab her side before she could bring her arm back. "Two."

Janna nodded again, her brow furrowed in concentration. After a perfunctory bow, Neve waited, resting lightly on the balls of her feet, but Janna cautiously hung back this time. Neve taunted her, edging around the limits of her reach, forcing her to adjust her shield arm, but the former guard held her ground this time. She exploded in a burst of motion as Neve misjudged and crept in too close, using her shield to propel Neve onto her back in the dusty earth. The tip of her longsword grazed Neve's neck and she grinned before offering Neve a hand up. "One for me."

A short while later, Janna claimed her second point, and Neve attempted to wipe the sweat from her palms before the two of them bowed for the final time. Their bout over, Oghren and Nathaniel had sidled up to the side of the fence to watch and Neve had no doubt that coin would be changing hands shortly.

Neve danced forward cautiously, feinting and weaving as she waited for Janna to misstep and leave her an opening. She was breathing heavily now, but so was Janna, her cheeks flushed with exertion. Seeing the former guard's shield beginning to dip ever so slightly, Neve pressed forward, targeting alternating points on Janna's body, her eyes constantly flicking back to judge the level of fatigue in Janna's shield arm. With each careful arc of Janna's blade, Neve dodged and twisted away before shifting back. The impasse lasted for several minutes as Janna's shield dropped a fraction lower each time. When the gap in her defenses was large enough, Neve leapt in with an angled slash. Janna's sword connected with her side at the same time, and there was sudden burst of pain as her vision went white. She crumpled to the ground with a cry.

"Commander! Are you all right?" Janna dropped her sword and shield to the ground and kneeled down next to her.

After a few moments, the blurred faces huddled around her came back into focus. Her right side was a scorching blaze of agony as she struggled to sit up. "I'm okay."

"You could've fooled me." Oghren helped her up and they limped towards the benches, Janna and Nathaniel trailing behind. Neve sank down gratefully and leaned back against the shadowed wall of the Keep. The sharpness of the initial shock of pain was ebbing away, leaving a dull throb in its wake.

"What happened?" Janna asked. "My sword hit, but the blow was light."

Neve rubbed her side gently and winced. "It's the wound from the Archdemon. Wynne, one the mages that was traveling with us, healed it after the battle, but there was only so much that she could do. It's never been this sore, though."

Nathaniel offered her one of the waterskins that lay nearby. "It could be from the poisoning. Spider venoms often contain toxins that affect how the body feels pain."

"I hope it's not going to be like this permanently. Otherwise, I'm going to be a fucking liability out there."

"Could you modify your armor with a patch of hardened hide or some metal plating to provide you with some additional protection for your side?" Janna sat down and reached for one of the remaining waterskins. "There were a few guards in the palace who had to do something similar."

"Maybe." Neve shrugged. The pain had lessened considerably now. "I'm not sure who I would see about doing something like that."

Nathaniel smiled. "Well, Delilah and Albert have agreed to move to the Keep, so maybe you can ask them who they would recommend."

Neve turned to look at him. "That's great news! You must be thrilled!"

He nodded, almost shyly. "They should be here within the month, according to her letter. They wanted to get settled in before the baby is born."

"I'll talk to Varel to make sure we have suitable living quarters made available to them." Neve raised the waterskin and drank, stopping after the first mouthful with a puzzled expression before turning to glare at the dwarf. "Refresh my memory," she asked without shifting her gaze. "What is this called?" Neve held up the half-empty pouch.

"Is this some sort of trick question? Is it a dirty question?" Oghren leaned in.

"Do I even want to know why your waterskin is full of ale?"

oOoOo

Alistair skimmed through the sheet of parchment—this one a petition from Lord Eddelbrek for more soldiers to patrol the farmlands of his freeholders—and slid it on top of the appropriate pile. The table was littered with individual stacks now, as there was little he could do aside from arranging it all into neat mounds of tasks all requiring Neve's input. He was more than a little surprised to see how well they were doing in terms of rebuilding the Keep. Bills for repairing and bolstering the Keep's outer walls had already been almost completely paid for, as well as much of the dry goods necessary to see the Keep's food stores well-stocked throughout the long winter months.

He picked up the next sheet from his rapidly dwindling pile. Only a few left to do. This one was folded over into thirds, and he flipped it over to break the wax seal that he could feel beneath his fingertips.

He froze.

Pressed into the firm puddle of red wax that held the parchment closed was the symbol of two griffons set back to back, each a mirror image of the other. Positioned in the center of their outstretched wings, just above their heads, was a small, five-pointed star. Alistair had only seen this symbol once before, on the letter that Duncan had received prior to the march of all Fereldan Wardens to Ostagar.

This was the First Warden's mark.

With hesitant fingers, and a flush of guilt that maybe he shouldn't be opening this, he cracked open the seal and began to read.

oOoOo

8 Solace, 9:31 Dragon

Warden-Commander Tabris,

With regards to your last letter, I regret to inform you that the First Warden continues to find your answers unsatisfactory. We feel that we have been more than generous in providing aid to the Fereldan Order, and we sincerely hope to continue to be able to offer you further monetary support in the future. Unfortunately, your seeming unwillingness to cooperate with us in this matter leaves us little choice than to deal with things in a more direct manner. Warden Taralen and I will be en route to Vigil's Keep within the next few weeks and we look forward to meeting with you in person in order to satisfactorily resolve this issue.

Respectfully yours,

Warden Connal, Second-in-Command, Weisshaupt

oOoOo

A cold sense of dread settled in the pit of Alistair's stomach with enough weight that he sank down into his chair, the letter still clutched in his hand. They were going to find out what they had done, what he had done. Why hadn't Neve told him that Weisshaupt was asking questions? He leaned back against the back of the chair, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

Because she's protecting you, you idiot.

It had been his choice to perform Morrigan's ritual, not hers, and she hadn't even known he'd done it until afterward, when she'd expected to die, but he'd taken that away from her, too. The one time he'd been brave enough to sit by her bed as she lay unconscious in the days after the battle, she'd opened her eyes ever so briefly—a flutter of eyelashes—and then she'd just given him that look before they'd drifted shut once more. She'd trusted him—they'd made the decision together—and, he'd betrayed her.

They'd agreed that Morrigan couldn't be trusted, especially after everything that had happened with Flemeth and retrieving her blasted grimoire… but, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't let her die. And now, she was going to bear the brunt of his weakness.

He smoothed the parchment out over his knee and read it again. There was nothing they could do now—the Wardens were likely on their way already. Neve had evidently not told them anything yet, but what if they had ways to compel her to talk against her will? What would they do when they learned the truth behind her survival?

They would pursue Morrigan and the child, that was certain. Not just any child, his child, a small voice in his mind interjected, causing a pang to sweep through him. His bastard, left alone to be raised by that witch… if it even was a child. What if it was some sort of monster, another Archdemon, gestating and ready to burst forth...? All the thoughts that he had tried so hard to push away and forget over the past seven months came back in a rush, like a battering ram to his gut.

Maker, what had he done?

A/N: Thank you all so much for your patience in waiting for this chapter. First, my hubby and little guy came down with a nasty stomach bug, and then my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer two weeks ago, deteriorated rapidly, and passed away at the end of last week. It's been a a bit rough.

Thank you to each and every one of you that is out there reading, whether you're just lurking, or if you've taken the time to add this story as an alert or favorite, or to leave a review. I appreciate it, I really do.

Special thank you notices here to the lovely people who have left a review but that I can't PM: Judy and ebilsushi. Thank you! *hug*

Art News!

I'm so beyond excited to share the very first fan art for Scars That Bind. Squee! The lovely and talented Sharem did this amazing head shot of Neve:

ht tp:/sharem. deviantart. com/gallery/33792283#/d4gtzw0 (just remove those pesky spaces).

The eyes in this picture are gorgeous and she definitely captured that "don't fuck with me" attitude. :) Sharem is one the sweetest and nicest people I've met during my foray into obsessive DA fandom. Go check out some of her incredible art (on dA) and stories (right here on FFnet).

Second, my ever-patient-with-my-DragonAge-love husband, decided to commission me some artwork for Scars That Bind as a Christmas present from the jaw-dropping elfkin on dA. This piece is just stunning, and I may have possibly spent the first afternoon that I had it drooling... er, staring at it. *cough* You know you're an uber geek, when your Christmas gift is commissioned art for your fan fic.

ht tp:/tinyurl. com/cjc2xjg (remove the spaces, as always)

Thank you all for reading!