Big Girls Don't Cry
Chapter One
Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

A/N: The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware. Reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome.

The Templars were royally pissed off.

Anders, a mage of the Circle of Magi (apostate if you wanted to get technical) had managed once again to escape the Tower and lead them on a merry chase across Ferelden. Since the Chantry's main focus was on rebuilding since the last Blight had recently ended, they hadn't exactly sent their best and brightest to pursue him. However, the bumbling fools had soon been joined by Ser Rylock, a thin-lipped, austere female Templar who seemed to harbor a personal vendetta against him. The damned woman was like a bloodhound, relentless in her pursuit of him once she'd gotten word that he'd been spotted in the arling of Amaranthine.

In hindsight, Anders realized he should've planned this portion of his journey more carefully. His first priority should've been to ditch his mage robe and commandeer a disguise that didn't scream, "HELLO I'M A MAGE!" Then he could discreetly locate his phylactery, destroy it and then he would be a free man.

However, Anders was a wreck by the time he painfully limped his way through Amaranthine's city gates. He hadn't eaten in almost two days; he was cold and exhausted. Barely sparing a glance at the City's famed marble statues and bubbling fountains, he'd secured a room in a rundown inn by the docks. Actually, his room was little more than a glorified closet with a narrow bed and a tiny window with a lovely view of a filthy alleyway.

Still, he was grateful that at least the bedclothes didn't smell too rank (if he held them at a reasonable distance from his nose) as he'd promptly fallen onto the bed and passed out. Just a couple of hours, he'd told himself. When he woke up he would grab a meal in the pub and then take a long, hot bath. And maybe find a willing wench to spend the evening with…

He hadn't been asleep that long when a gauntleted hand yanked him out of bed and slammed him onto the floor. Anders cursed under his breath as he found himself hopelessly outmatched by a group of Templars and a smirking Rylock.

"So pathetic," Rylock taunted as she kicked him viciously in the groin.

Anders grunted as he doubled over in pain. "Sod off!" he managed to sneer at Rylock before one of the Templars brought a mace crashing onto his head and he knew no more.

Following his capture, the Templars had marched him to Vigil's Keep where they would spend the night before traveling back to the Tower. Anders supposed he should count himself lucky that the Templars hadn't decided to beat the living shit out of him, or worse, play prison, as it were.

Still, as he cooled his heels in the Keep's dungeon with Duane, the Templar assigned to guard him, Anders was already busy plotting his escape.

Ander's machinations were interrupted by the appearance of a woman carrying a tray of delicious smelling food. Her grey hair was pleated into a no-nonsense bun and her shrewd green eyes coolly assessed the room as she made her way to Ander's cell.

"Is that for me?" Duane asked hopefully.

The woman shook her head. "If you want grub, go get it yourself," she answered pertly. "This is for the prisoner."

Duane frowned. "Rylock didn't say anything about the apostate getting fed," he protested.

"You are under the jurisdiction of the Grey Wardens in here, boy," she replied. "If you want to take it up with the Seneschal, by all means, go ahead."

Ignoring the dumbfounded Templar, the woman quickly unlocked the cell door with one of the master keys attached to an enormous ring tied to her apron. She entered the cell and set the tray down on the floor, sliding it over to Anders.

Anders immediately grabbed a piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth.

"Not so fast," she said reprovingly. "You'll make yourself sick." She watched in satisfaction as Anders made quick work of the food.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," Anders remarked as he stuffed another roll into his mouth, "But why are you being so nice to me? Technically I could turn you into a toad and escape."

She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow regally at him. "Is that what you are planning to do, young man?"

"No, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Good." She brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face. "You may call me Adria by the way."

Anders finished wolfing down the last of his food and settled back against the wall with a sigh of satisfaction. "I'm Anders," he replied. "Apostate extraordinaire."

"And are you a blood mage, Anders?"

"What? No!" He shook his head. "I'm a healer that shoots the occasional arcane bolt. But I don't dabble in blood magic!"

Adria frowned. "Then why are you in a jail cell?"

"Let's just say being stuck in a Tower isn't exactly my style," Anders replied derisively. "I escaped."

Adria studied him for a moment then nodded. "Well met, Anders," she replied. She left the cell (with the door swinging wide open) and returned with a bucket of water. She placed the bucket within Anders' reach and handed him a brick of soap and a worn rag.

"I must get back to my duties now," Adria said as she picked up the empty tray. "You behave yourself, do you hear?"

It was the first time anyone had shown him any sort of kindness in well…forever. He wished there was something more he could do or say to show his gratitude. "Thank you, Adria," he murmured.

Adria nodded and left.

The Templars came for him early the next day. Anders had been able to give himself a decent wash last night and, coupled with a pleasantly full belly, actually managed to get a decent night's sleep. With his hands bounds in front of him, Anders and the Templars were walking through one of the Keep's long galleries when the shouts of the soldiers could be heard.

The next thing Anders knew, a large group of demonic beings had stormed the room and overwhelmed them. The Templars were dead within seconds and it was a miracle he hadn't been attacked. He quickly grabbed the key off Duane's body and fumbled to unlock his chains. The monsters were nearly on top of him when he managed to mind blast the buggers, which momentarily stunned them. He then unleashed a series of fire spells that annihilated the demons and burnt them to a crisp.

Anders blew away the wisps of smoke still curling from his fingertips then pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. He was bloody free again! He headed towards the exit; when the door suddenly burst open and two women ran in.

"An apostate!" The blue-eyed soldier clad in heavy plate exclaimed. "Commander, what should we do?"

Anders' jaw dropped in shock. The "Commander" the knight deferred to was none other than Solona Amell! He gulped. Of all the people to run into at such a critical juncture! He supposed it might be possible that she could still be pissed that he'd seduced her when she was a mere apprentice. It had been a very pleasant diversion (at the time) in which he'd convinced her that he was in love with her, then shagged her in order to win a bet. The winnings from which (he told himself defensively) had helped to fund his fourth escape attempt.

Little Solana Amell had been the one who to save Ferelden from the Blight and was now the Commander of the Grey Wardens? She was still as pretty as he remembered: her jet black hair coiled tightly into two buns at the nape of her neck, the exotic almond shape of her dark brown eyes and that pretty, pert mouth that had moaned his name as he thrust himself into her until they both cried out in pleasure.

Not now, boyo. Anders inwardly groaned and viciously clamped down on his runaway libido.

"It's all right, Mhairi. I know him." Solana crossed her arms and glared at him skeptically, with that expression of disdain that had earned her the nickname 'The Ice Queen' back at the Tower. "Anders. The Maker must surely possess a twisted sense of humor."

Anders graced Solana with his most charming smile; the one that always made the female mages melt and enabled him get away with bloody murder (figuratively) in the Tower. "Solana! It's good to see you again! What…"

He would've continued but the Commander lunged at him so quickly, he never saw the right hook that sent him sprawling to the ground, courtesy of her angrily clenched fists.

Anders gingerly touched his bloodied nose. "I suppose I deserved that," he said ruefully.

"Bloody hell yes, you did," she muttered. However, she surprised him again when she held out her hand. Anders cautiously took it and heaved himself up.

"We still have darkspawn to kill," Solana said curtly. "Anders, you come with me. If you try to run from me again, I swear to the Maker I will geld you."

The Warden Commander stalked out of the room without a backwards glance. Mhairi eyed him scornfully, as if she'd somehow been able to divine his multitude of sins against the opposite sex merely from being punched in the face. She left the room with all due haste.

Anders' eyes glinted with sardonic amusement as he quickly looted the Templars' bodies for his gear and whatever else he could scrounge up. He then hurried after the Warden Commander.

Life just got a lot more interesting.

A/N: Anders hasn't gotten enough love (from me), so this story was born. I originally wrote a scene from his POV for "A New Dawn" but ended up scrapping it. However the poor dear kept clamoring for his own story. So here it is, unbeta'd and quite a different tone from Nate's story. I hope you enjoy it! As always, reviews and comments are always welcome!