In Denerim, the debates between Lambert and Alistair and Anora were still going on. Lambert managed to catch Fiona before she left Denerim for Weisshaupt.
“You are Warden Fiona, correct?” he said.
“Yes, Seeker,” she inclined her head. “I understand you wish to speak with me.”
“Yes,” Lambert said. “I did have some questions.”
“You have concerns.”
“Yes, I do,” Lambert said. “Not least of which is the Wardens' relationship with the Circle.”
“It is not so close as you believe.”
“And who are you to say what I believe?”
“Your behavior speaks for itself.”
“As does yours, Warden.” Lambert paused. “But you are technically not a Warden, are you?” Lambert said. “You do not have the Taint.”
Fiona inclined her head, her eyes narrowed. “And how do you know this about me? Have you spoken to the Wardens of Weisshaupt?”
“I have spoken to many Wardens. Am I correct in saying that the Wardens themselves are uncertain as to your status amongst them?”
Fiona gave a tiny sigh. “It is a lengthy argument, yes.”
Lambert nodded. “I see. So you have come into conflict over this before.”
“Yes.”
“And why is that? I was under the impression that once you were a Warden, you were always a Warden.”
“Some felt that to truly be a Warden, you need the Taint,” Fiona said. “Others disagreed. Those heads prevailed.”
“Mm.” Lambert nodded.
“Are your concerns alleviated, Seeker?”
“Not quite, Warden.” Lambert said. “You see...as I understand it, you have somehow undone the very thing that makes one a Warden.”
“It was not of my doing.”
“Be that as it may, technically, you are not a Warden.”
“As you are not a Warden yourself, it is not your place to say.” Fiona retorted.
“The Chantry must watch over everything,” Lambert said. “Including the Wardens.”
“We are not beholden to you.”
“So you feel as if your Order is beholden to no one.”
“Not no one. Simply not the Chantry.”
“I see. Then who do you answer to?”
Fiona's lip curled. “This discussion will get us nowhere, Seeker,” she said. “If you will excuse me...”
“Of course. Enchanter.”
Fiona glared at him, and walked away. Lambert watched her go, and resolved to mail several letters.
Lambert requested another audience with Alistair, but with Fiona present as well. This was worrisome, but there was no way to get out of it. Fiona would have left Denerim already were it not for this.
“Enchanter Fiona,” Lambert told her as a way of greeting. “You are obligated to return to the Circle, at once,”
Fiona's eyes widened.
“Wait--” Alistair said.
“No,” Fiona snapped. “I am a Warden, and not under Chantry authority.”
“As you do not have the Taint, you are only a Warden in name,” Lambert said. “Your fellow Wardens have expressed this.”
“Warden-Commander Clarel--”
“Has already agreed.”
The blood drained out of Fiona's face. “What?” Warden-Commander Clarel was a mage just as Fiona was.
“The Seekers have been in communication with Weisshaupt for the past month,” Lambert explained. “We have been quite concerned about the actions of the Wardens recently.”
“And the Warden-Commander said...” Fiona pressed her fingers to her temple.
Lambert inclined his head. “She said in this case, since we have made the request that you return to the Circle, that we have the authority here.”
“Why is this so important?” Alistair asked. “Why Fiona?”
“The influence that the Circle has on the Wardens, and by extension, any of the allies of the Wardens, is alarming,” Lambert said, his expression icy.
Alistair narrowed his eyes. “How so?”
Lambert looked at him. “You were once in training to be a Templar, Your Majesty,” he said. “Surely you of all people know the dangers of magical influence.”
“But—Fiona, you don't have to--” Alistair began.
Fiona furrowed her brow and looked at Lambert. “No,” she said, a calculating gleam in her eye. “No, if this is the desire of he Chantry, I will return to the Circle.”
Lambert inclined his head in satisfaction. “That is good to hear.”
Alistair turned to Fiona after Lambert had gone.
“Fiona, you can't seriously be doing this,” Alistair said.
“I have to,” Fiona said. “If we try and fight the Chantry on this—I am not even technically a Warden, we have no leverage, and if you fight them, the Chantry could excommunicate your bloodline, or worse. We have already dragged Ferelden out of one civil war, I would not push it into another so soon.”
Alistair sighed. “I know—Lambert threatened us with heresy once before.”
She looked at him sharply. “Because of Surana being an Arlessa?”
“Yes.”
She pursed her lips. “That they are so willing to push you...”
“Not good, right?”
“Not at all.” she shook her head. “This aggression...it is worrisome. I would watch them closely, were I you.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Leliana's told us the same thing,” he admitted. “Anytime she sends missives—she doesn't like the way things are going. Makes sense now, I suppose.”
Alistair wrapped her in a tight hug. She patted his back.
“Look, I'll—I'll get you out of there,” he promised, and pulled away from her. “I'm a king, I can do that.”
She smiled. “You are a good lad,” she told him. “But I would rather you focus on your own work. I am quite capable of looking after myself. I have done it long before you were around.”
Fiona left Denerim, but Lambert headed for Vigil's Keep. He got there after Kitranna did.
Kitranna and her companions came back to Vigil's Keep only about a week after they left Kal'hirol. They were all exhausted and filthy, except for Justice, who smelled a little more dead than normal but was otherwise fine.
“Nice place,” Sigrun said, looking up at Vigil's Keep with large eyes.
“Thanks,” Kitranna said. “Been working on it. Would be better if it didn't get attacked by darkspawn every five minutes.”
“It was only the once,” Oghren rumbled.
“Yeah, and that once killed all the Wardens there.”
They walked inside. Anders, Justice, Nathaniel and Oghren all went their separate ways, presumably to rest and change out of their filthy armor. Kitranna took Sigrun to take the Joining.
Varel brought the items necessary, and handed her the silver chalice.
“From this moment forth, Sigrun, you are a Gray Warden,” he told her.
Sigrun took the cup in her hands. “Let that be it, then,” she said quietly, and took a long draught. She handed the cup back, paused for a moment, then her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed backwards.
Varel kneeled down next to her. “You chose her well, Commander,” he said. “She will waken soon.”
Kitranna nodded. “Good to hear.” she ran a hand over her head. “I'm going to bed,” she informed Varel. “If anyone wakes me up with anything less than the end of the world, they won't like what happens to them.”
“Of course, Commander.”
Anders looked up at the statue of Andraste. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep, still feeling keyed up from the fights in Kal'hirol, even though it was days ago. Now he was wandering around the Vigil's Keep courtyard, with nothing to do. He'd gotten rid of his old robes—they were ruined by darkspawn blood, completely unsalvageable.
“Anders. What are you doing?”
Anders glanced over to see Nathaniel, also in fresh clothing, walking up to him.
“Nothing,” Anders said, and looked back at the statue of Andraste. “D'you think Andraste was really that much of a looker? Don't you think she would've been, I dunno, a barbarian?”
Nathaniel stared at him. “I fail to see the relevance of that,” he said.
Anders rolled his eyes. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.
Nathaniel shrugged. “I would sleep, but I've had a hard time with that ever since the Joining.”
Anders nodded. “Nightmares, right? You'll get used to it—at least, that's what Surana says.”
“Where is the Commander?” Nathaniel asked. “I have not seen her since she went to see the seneschal.”
“No idea,” Anders said. “Probably doing something important. And if you can't find her, you probably shouldn't go looking.”
Nathaniel frowned. “I simply—it is unnerving to be standing idle,” he said.
“I know what you mean,” Anders said, surprising both of them. “I'm a little worried if I stand still for too long a darkspawn or a Templar will creep up behind me.”
“A darkspawn could not sneak up on you—you would sense it.”
“I know, I know, but that doesn't stop me feeling like they could, now does it?” Anders folded his arms.
The sky overhead rumbled, and they both glanced up.
“Damn,” Nathaniel muttered. “Rain.”
“I like the rain, actually,” Anders said. Nathaniel looked at him. “Reminds me I'm not in the Circle.”
“Is the Circle truly so terrible?” Nathaniel asked.
Anders snorted. “You wouldn't be asking that if you'd ever been there,” he said.
“Surely it's better to be in the Circle than become an abomination,” Nathaniel said. “Mages are dangerous—aren't the Circles safer?”
“You know how many people I've known who've died?” Anders said with a sneer. “And not from magical accidents or demons, let me tell you.”
Nathaniel frowned, not understanding. “Surely that's...good?”
“Most of the deaths are suicides,” Anders said bluntly. “One or two by a Templar's blade.”
“...oh.”
The sky opened up, and it began to rain.
Nathaniel cursed. “Come on,” he urged Anders. “We should at least get under a roof.”
“Why?” Anders tilted his head up into the rain and closed his eyes.
“Because you'll get wet,” Nathaniel said, rolling his eyes.
“Not a problem,” Anders winked at him. “I can warm up pretty fast.”
Despite himself, Nathaniel flushed.
“It is kind of cold though,” Anders admitted. “Come on—I'm sure the Commander'll need us for something soon.”
Sigrun awoke soon enough from the sleep the Joining had put her in, which was good. Kitranna found her in the Keep's main hall, looking over the books there.
Kitranna approached her, and Sigrun stepped away from the bookcase, and looked over at Kitranna.
“I've never seen so many books in my life,” she said with a grin.
Kitranna shrugged. “You can read them all if you can find the time,” she said. “Personally, I never could.”
“No?” Sigrun sighed. “I've only ever read one book,” sh said. “My friend Varlan taught me to read Common, in the Legion. He only had the one.” she paused. “He's dead now.”
“Yeah, well, lots of people seem to be dying these days,” Kitranna said. She nodded at the bookshelves. “Read the books. You'll feel better.”
Sigrun stared at her. “Is it that easy?” she asked. “To just...put all that death aside?”
“You're in the Legion. It should be.” Kitranna ran a hand over her head. “When Calenhad Circle got overrun with demons, most of the mages there died,” she said. “I used to live in Calenhad. I knew every one of the people who died.”
“I think I heard about that,” Sigrun said. “I'm sorry.”
“You can't let them get in the way, of what you have to do,” Kitranna told her. “They're dead. You're alive. It's not your problem to remember them that're gone.”
“Isn't it?”
“No. It isn't.” Kitranna shook her head. “Listen, I have some things I need to get to. We should have at least a few days' rest here, then we need to be on the road again.”
“Where to?”
“Haven't decided yet—there's a couple of options.” Kitranna nodded at the bookshelves. “Read those. Get some rest. Might want to raid the kitchens, too—being a Warden makes you hungry. I'll let you know when I need you.”
Kitranna left, and Sigrun watched her leave, a frown between her eyebrows.