The Fereldan Circle Tower

8 years before the Blight

"For the crime of fraternization with a fellow mage, for taking advantage of mentor-pupil privileges, and for defying Chantry decree, Karl Thekla has been sentenced to ten lashes, to be carried out in the presence of these witnesses."

The templar sounded almost bored. Karl looked up from the whipping post, scanning the crowd, unable to stop himself from looking for the one face he didn't want to see. Not now.

He was there. Of course he was there. The templars wouldn't let him miss this. He was right in front, standing next to the Surana girl, his brown eyes watching stonily.

Karl thought that maybe he should smile, to let Anders know that this was no big deal (even if it was), but then the first lash hit home, and he jerked his eyes away.


"You have a visitor."

Karl lifted his head. Ser Cullen was standing in the doorway.

Karl didn't point out that visitors were forbidden during his recovery. Cullen already knew. Just like he had known all those secret rendezvous were forbidden when he had looked the other way. Nor did he point out that he was in no condition to receive visitors. That didn't matter.

"Thank you," he whispered.

A softening in Cullen's eyes was his only response before the templar left the room.

Wincing in pain, Karl pushed himself up to a sitting position.

Anders entered.

He wasn't his usual cocky self. He looked desperate. His brown eyes darted around the room before landing on Karl. He made a strangled sound and lurched forward.

"How bad is it?" Anders demanded. "Let me see."

"It's fine," Karl lied.

Anders ignored him, in full healer mode now, examining the lacerations that crisscrossed his back. His hand glowed blue.

"No," Karl said, pushing his hand away. "I'm not allowed to heal it. If they see it's healed, they'll do it again."

Anders looked at him in horror.

Karl reached for Anders's face, but Anders jerked back.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded.

"What do you mean?"

"You took the blame for me." It was an accusation. "You told them it was all your fault."

Karl frowned. "It was my fault. You're my student. That makes me responsible."

"Horse shit." Anders spat the words at him. "I knew what I was doing. I made my choice, just like you did."

"Are you angry that I saved you from being flogged?"

"What gives you the right?"

Karl couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I didn't want you to be hurt. Is that so hard to understand?"

"It's not your business whether I get hurt."

That one sentence, uttered so coldly, hurt more than all the lashes he'd endured from the templars.

"I just wanted to protect you. What good would it do for you to be beaten, too?"

"What do you think you are? My defender? My knight in shining armor?" The fury in Anders's eyes was unmistakeable. "I never asked you for that. It's none of your affair what happens to me. Don't assume more than your place, mentor. It would be a mistake."

Karl felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. Anders stood before him, glaring, his hands clenched into fists.

This couldn't be happening.

"Don't worry," Karl said, surprised at how icy his voice sounded. "It's not a mistake I'll make again."

Anders's eyes widened. A second before, he'd been all righteous fury. Now, he was suddenly vulnerable. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

Immediately, Karl wished he could take the words back.

"They didn't even ask." Anders's voice was quiet, hoarse. "They didn't even bother to question me. Because you told them it was all your fault."

Karl was suddenly unsure where this was going.

"If they'd asked me, I would have told them the truth. I would have told them that you kept turning me down. That you tried to resist me, and I pushed you into it. They should have known that before making their decision. I should have been able to tell them."

Karl was speechless.

He understood now. Anders wasn't mad at him for overstepping his bounds, for assuming the relationship meant more than it did. He was angry because he had wanted to defend Karl, and Karl had taken the opportunity away from him. Anders felt helpless and overwhelmed, and he was lashing out the only way he could.

Opening your heart was hard. It was terrifying to be exposed, to know that you could be hurt through someone else. It was so much easier to close yourself off, to pretend that nothing mattered. If it made Anders feel better to push Karl away, Karl wouldn't stop him.

He understood.

Karl cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," was all he said.

Moisture formed in Anders's eyes. The tension left his frame, and his shoulders slumped. His eyes met Karl's, and Karl saw the tumult of emotion written there.

Silently, Anders knelt in front of Karl. Delicately, oh so delicately, he pressed his cheek to Karl's chest.

It was painful to move his arms, but Karl wrapped them around Anders anyway, pulling him close. He kissed the top of Anders's head.

"They don't have any right to do this to us," Anders said fiercely. "We're people. We should have the right to be together if we choose. It's not their place to tell us we can't."

"I am your mentor," Karl reminded him.

"Then let them reassign me," Anders retorted angrily. "You're only a few years older than me. What we're doing is not wrong."

Reassignment was not an option, but Karl couldn't tell Anders that. He said nothing.

"I'm not going to be stuck here," Anders said vehemently. If Karl didn't know Anders so well, he would have been shocked by the heat in his voice. "They can't keep me here. I'm going to get out if it kills me."

Karl believed him, and that was what scared him. Anders's desire for freedom very well might kill him one day. The templars might choose to run him through instead of bringing him back, and Karl would never even know, because the templars would never tell him. And yet...if there were ever a mage who could find freedom outside the Circle, who could build a life of love and happiness away from templar rule, it was Anders. Beautiful, fierce, passionate Anders.


Cullen checked in on him again later that night. Karl almost let him leave without question, but his curiosity won out.

"Why?" Karl asked, as the templar turned to go. "Why have you helped us?"

Cullen paused, his hand on the door. For a moment Karl thought he wasn't going to answer.

Finally, Cullen spoke. "Do you know the Surana girl?"

Karl did. She was a pretty elf, an apprentice like Anders. He nodded.

"I guess I don't think people should live without love," Cullen said. "Not when it's not necessary."

He left the room then, the door closing with a thud.

Karl was alone with his thoughts.

Despite the wounds on his back, Karl wasn't sorry for what he'd done. He didn't regret a moment he'd spent with Anders – beautiful, laughing, vibrant Anders who had lit up his life like a fireball. And he didn't regret taking the blame for him. If Anders were to be punished, he would face far worse than a flogging.

It was only a few months ago that First Enchanter Irving had told him. He'd been sitting in Irving's office, wondering why he'd been called and what brought the somber look to Irving's face. "The templars have brought back an escaped apprentice," Irving had said. "He's run from the Circle a number of times. The templars want to make him Tranquil."

"Is he dangerous?" Karl had asked.

"No," Irving said, "but it may not matter. There's only so much I can do. You, on the other hand...you may be able to help. You have the templars' favor. If you agreed to take him on, become his mentor, I think I could hold them off until his Harrowing. Just keep him out of trouble for a few more months..."

Karl hadn't done a very good job of keeping Anders out of trouble, but he'd kept him from being punished, and that was enough. He'd ensured Anders wouldn't be made Tranquil for their indiscretions. If the rumors were to be believed, Anders would be taken for his Harrowing any day now. Karl had done his part, and if he had it to do again, he would have done exactly the same.

Anders would survive his Harrowing. There was no doubt in Karl's mind. There wasn't much he knew for certain, but he knew Anders was destined for great things.

He was sure of it.


Ten years later

The Kirkwall Chantry

The haze lifted from Karl's mind, and the first thing he saw was Anders.

Anders.

He was beautiful. Older. The little lines around his eyes and mouth somehow made him more attractive than ever. There was a sadness in his face that Karl had never seen before. It cut deep into Karl's heart, but at the same time, it seemed a part of Anders, something that had always been there under the surface but was only now allowed to manifest.

And he was glowing.

He wondered for a moment if the light that emanated from Anders's very pores was a figment of his imagination. To him, Anders had always shone with an inner light, and he'd often marveled that the rest of the world didn't see it.

He was fighting, taking down Karl's templar jailers with an ease that suggested he was well used to battle. There were others there, too, but Karl only saw Anders.

I'm not your defender, Anders. You defend me. I can see now that you've always been my defender.

And then the battle was over. Anders's blue glow faded.

And the haze began to return.

No.

He couldn't go back. He couldn't face the nightmare again, couldn't stand to be trapped within his own skin. He wouldn't let it happen again. Anders wouldn't let it happen.

Karl didn't know what words he used to plead with Anders. But he knew that Anders would help him. Anders wouldn't let him go back to what he was, a cold, emotionless shell of his former self. Anders would save him, because he was his defender.

When cold steel pierced his chest, it was Anders's face that he saw. He clung desperately to the image, brown eyes smiling at him as the darkness finally took him.