Confession: I always make a point of playing a faithful Inquisitor, just cause it’s the only way ser Ruth can live happily. I justify it as playing along with the humans.
In the history of Thedas, Grey Wardens have made many sacrifices to combat the Blight. Many of those sacrifices would warrant execution or imprisonment, but rarely are those consequences enacted. Rarer still does a Warden seek them out.
Although Wardens are legally absolved from prosecution of any kind in matters involving defense against the Darkspawn and the Blights, Ruth insists that the Grey Wardens cannot use this privilege as a shield and wants to serve as an example that the Wardens are not above reproach.
Inquisition prisoners, empty cells and the Judgement
Why our prisoners can’t be found in the dungeons? I wanted to talk with them. I always want to do it, but cells are always empty. Who the hell thought that it would be a good idea NOT to use the cells and dungeons, not to talk with our prisoners before the Judgement?
It would be hilarious to see what kind of face Florianne would make, if she had to sit on the floor and listen to Alexius’s monologues about the great and awesome Tevinter empire. Every. Single. Day.
Oi, you still alive? I started a new fanfiction for you. It’s about Ser Ruth and Knight-Captain Denam. They deserve more attention. C’mon open your eyes, I know you’re awake-
(thanks to Solas-you-nerd for the discussion/meta!)
Ser Ruth studies the small group as they make their way on the icy road from Skyhold. The two Inquisition soldiers, and the two men who seek to be Wardens. She’s surprised she is here, she never expected mercy from an elf inquisitor. Although it is telling, that Lady Lavellan wanted nothing to do with another ‘Shem problem’. Ruth’s own guilt had convinced her she would face harsher punishment, the headman’s axe or the option to go to the Deep roads before her time. It appears that there will be no example set.
The calling was a quiet song behind her eyes, at first. It was something she learnt to recognise as merely the hint of a darkspawn approach. It could mean something or nothing, just wait and see is how she learnt to deal with it. When it grew louder, it wasn’t as she knew. When others began to say the same, she was unprepared for how panicked it made her feel. She had known many wardens to hear the song, none of them said it was like this, they said it was akin to an all-encompassing need, but they never mentioned they were frightened. She shudders at the memory, of the panic, of the song, of how she will meet her end.
In her own way, thinking on why she bowed to Warden-Commander Clarel’s methods gives her an explanation, but it’s not a plausible excuse. Yet for some reason, she’s here, she’s free to return to the Wardens.
A late winter’s blast renders the road slippery. Hooves skid but the horses remain upright as the riders hold their reins steady and focus their gaze. There is silence as they follow in single file, none of them willing to break concentration on the treacherous path. When they hit the start of the melting tundra the Inquisition soldiers start an easy banter between themselves. However, Raleigh Samson, Thom Rainier and Ser Ruth remain quiet as the horses plod further on.
Laughter between the two happy soldiers invade the mountain side, loud enough to scare foxes away and the prey of hares to scurry back to their warrens, their mottled fur morphing into the dirt speckled snowy background.
“How long do you think they’ll keep that up?” Thom asks.
Ruth shrugs half-heartedly interested only in the journey ahead. “No idea.”
“Until one of us tells them to shut it or throttles them in their sleep.” Samson replies. He frowns and sniffs loudly.
“It’s a good thing we’re not hunting then.” Ruth says.
“We may need to eventually. From the size of our packs I could barely stuff 2 days’ worth of food into them,” Thom replies.
“So you’re saying there’s enough food for five days for the rest of us then.” Samson eyes Thom up and down, a smug smile split his previously dour expression.
Thom says nothing and licks his lips.
“I said--”
Thom interrupts. “I heard you the first time. And if you’re calling me fat. I’ve heard much worse.”
Thom shakes his head. “Are you going to give me grief? Particularly about that last point?”
“It was war.” Samson now stares blankly at Thom.
Ruth feels a sudden heat come to her cheeks. ‘It was war’ echoes through her mind and she closes her eyes for moment.
“And you’re a war criminal,” Thom spits.
“I wasn’t killing for coin.”
“Just an ideal right? A motive beyond personal? You think some notion of ‘greater good’ gives you the moral high ground, General? We all know how you benefited.”
Samson sneers. “I know what I am, the question for you Thom Rainier, whose moral high ground did you borrow when you were Blackwall? Was it always you, or was it the wardens, or was it Blackwall himself who imparted his self-righteousness on you?”
Thom’s lips shut tight and he kicks the side of his horse and gallops ahead.
Ruth watches as the two men bicker, her bets are on the man named Thom to make Warden, he has the stout nature and the right amount of blissful ignorance to make a reliable warden. She glares at Samson, this man though, this ally of the demon magister, she wavers on judgment. From what she’s heard about his addiction to the red lyrium he’ll likely die on the road, much like other Templars she’s seen fall before.
“I didn’t know Warden Blackwall personally. But I did know of him. He was a good man. He spent a lot of time amongst his soldiers, and for a long time amongst a population of prisoners. He liked to recruit from them so I heard. Rumor was he had a soft spot for them because he was a criminal himself before he was conscripted,” she says.
Thom’s interest is piqued and he turns his head back. “He never told me any of that.”
“Why would he? It wasn’t his past that mattered. Nor his future. Only the darkspawn matter, only saving others from the blight matters to a Grey Warden.” She sounds more curt than she intends but these men need to know what’s in store, what life as a warden will offer them, it won’t be found in the past and it won’t be found on this road.
Thom nods. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend--”
Ruth shakes her head and waves her hand. “No offence. Thom – if I may call you that? For it’s to be a long journey in each other’s company.”
Thom nods. “It’s my name now, I should get used to wearing it again. And yes a long journey.” He glances pointedly at Samson.
“You will understand if you survive the joining, Thom.” Ruth turns to Samson. “And you, Raleigh Samson, you know of loyalty to your men, you know of sacrifice; however, misguided. If you survive, then loyalty is a given, your purpose will change even if fundamentally you won’t. It’s unavoidable. But again, if you survive, or if you even make it to Weisshaupt, you will understand.” Ruth holds no malice in her words. She considers it a mere statement of fact.
There is silence between the three again. However, idle chitchat between the soldiers continues until Samson interrupts. “Will you two fucking shut it? If I—if we are to have such nonsense for the entire journey at least keep it to when I’m not in fucking earshot.”
Ruth glances at the soldiers and gives them a sad smile but says nothing. She looks towards Samson, the red tinge still in his eyes tells her his fate will be similar to other Templars. Yes, he will certainly die on the road.
