"I don't make you nervous," Anders observed as they fought through another wave of darkspawn.
"Pardon?"
"Anymore," Anders continued with a grin. "Or at least not as much as I did. You were so sweet and so shy. You never made eye contact. You'd stare at my hands."
"Anders…"
"I'm so pleased to see you here even if I haven't managed to get much from you outside of a small smile and stoic nod. And a blush. Are you still shy then?"
"Do you always talk this much?" Mhairi asked.
Anders laughed and electrocuted the last of the hurlocks in their immediate vicinity. "When properly motivated, which I currently am. You wouldn't think it, darling, but this handsome Commander was once the most adorable little bookworm. With two braids in his hair and ill-fitting robes that left virtually everything to the imagination."
Mhairi gave up frowning and considered Leif in a way that made him feel decidedly awkward.
"Please stop telling her this," Leif murmured, realizing he ought to do something besides stand there blinking like a startled halla. He hadn't thought about or missed his braids in recent months, but he found himself wishing his hair was still as long as it had been in those days if only so he could hide behind it.
Oghren guffawed as he joined them. "Don't stop. It's getting interesting."
"I'm surprised you remember," Leif added. "I mean, all things considered."
Anders set a hand on Leif's shoulder. "You think I don't remember the handful of people who spoke to me back then? I do. I remember you and I'm glad to see you've done so well for yourself. I mean that."
Leif began to say something then Mhairi had spotted a dying soldier and after that, they'd had a great deal more trouble to contend with.
Even so Anders continued to make quiet but sneaky and flattering observations that left Leif at a loss but he was able to focus on the task at hand in spite or maybe because of the compliments. After all who didn't like being told they looked good in red or that it would be an absolute crime against the Maker himself to ever wear a robe with sleeves again.
Oghren complained that his eyes were about to roll out of his skull if the mage kept up the sweet talk. Mhairi just sighed on occasion, looking resigned and skeptical.
When they were finally done with the last and worst of the Keep's infestation, Leif rubbed his temples and tried to forget all about Anders in order to consider what was going on in terms of the darkspawn. It wasn't hard to do considering that he'd just talked to a Hurlock named the First, which obviously meant there were more somewhere nearby.
He felt exhausted, truth be told. He felt as if he hadn't slept since that brief moment when, after defeating the Archdemon, he'd fallen to the ground, eyes rolling back in his skull as darkness claimed him.
He hadn't expected that the rest of his life would be a quiet one given the way it would undoubtedly end. He wasn't naïve enough to think Amaranthine was any sort of reward for services rendered under Queen and country, but he hadn't expected to be fighting the same fight over again. No. Not the same fight. The blight was over, surely. It had to be over.
"Varel is on the mend and you've blood… Well, everywhere," Anders gently observed from Leif's immediate left. "But let me get this spot for you." He gently wiped under Leif's eye then took his time getting flecks of blood from the other mage's cheek. "Would you prefer your headache to sort itself out on its own?"
Leif chuckled bleakly. "Which headache are we talking about?"
Anders shook his head. His expression softened a bit from flirtatious to thoughtful. Then he brought a set of glowing fingers up, letting them rest against Leif's forehead. "So how did you leave the Circle? One of the downsides to solitary confinement and being a very, very bad mage is that they never tell you anything."
"It's… Not a pleasant story."
"It never is."
"Then I'll tell you. Later."
"All right but don't worry. I'm not looking for pointers. Although I don't suppose they could hurt."
"How many escapes does this make?"
"Seven. Now. Considering the forlorn look on your face less than a moment ago, I'm guessing Grey Wardening is a fairly thankless task."
"My oath of sacrifice, service, and vigilance provides others with some measure of peace."
"You're Arl in addition to a Commander."
"For the time being."
"Are those titles that you wanted?"
"I'm not sure."
"Well, I do envy you your freedom even if there are a great deal of strings attached."
"I've been lucky and fortunate," Leif agreed. "In many ways."
"Are you happy?"
Leif breathed out a sigh and decided to be honest. Mhairi was speaking to Varel and Oghren wasn't the sort who expected others to put on some sort of brave or comforting act. "Somewhat. Not as happy as I thought I'd be. I'm sure that sounds ungrateful."
"Hardly," Anders replied. "Not on your part, at least. I would have thought the Hero of Ferelden was owed a great deal more than some small modicum of happiness."
Alistair and Leliana were watching him closely as the exchange with Ser Rylock became more and more heated. He'd been glad to see them marching up to Vigil's Keep alongside the Queen, but he couldn't help feeling that Alistair was there, in part, to make sure his best friend played the role of Commander of the Grey to the best of his abilities.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Varel giving the Templar a disapproving look as her intense need for justice gave way to a deeper desire for vengeance.
Giving Anders over was unacceptable for more reasons than Leif cared to go into, but he struggled inwardly with a conflicting sense of his duty as a Commander and a desire to protect Anders regardless of whether it was right for the order or not. Worse of all, Leif knew that his choice, whatever he chose, came overburdened with consequences.
The choices weren't the same, but since the stakes were relatively as high, Leif found himself thinking of Jowan. Of the mess they'd both made of themselves and their friendship. He would always regret going to Irving and choosing the tower over his best friend, but he would have regretted being used in some foolish scheme just as much. Particularly a scheme that helped Jowan but virtually guaranteed a savage and possibly lethal punishment for his co-conspirator whose phylactery was stored in Denerim.
As time went by and he developed friendships with others, he'd felt less guilty, of course. Leliana and Morrigan had both pointed out just how well and truly manipulated he'd been by all sides. The anger he'd felt at his own shortcomings and misgivings were nothing compared to how he felt about Jowan's betrayal but that too was nothing compared to the sorrow he'd felt when he learned that Jowan had eventually consented to being made tranquil.
I'm not making Anders tranquil, he sternly reminded himself. I'm not making him free, but I'm not making him incapable of choosing. I'm not.
"Are you going to say something, Commander?" Anora asked. The look she was giving him indicated a considerable amount of impatience.
Under other circumstances, he might have managed a sheepish smile, but the occasion hardly seemed to warrant one. "I am, your majesty. My apologies. I hereby conscript this man into the Grey Wardens."
Leif forced himself not to duck his head as he waited to see who would attempt to strangle or yell at him first. No one did though.
You're in charge, you fool. Of course no one is going to scold you. This whole mess is yours now and it is up to you to solve it.
The Templar looked startled then merely inconvenienced. "Your Majesty, the Commander is a mage and from Kinloch Hold as well. Normally I wouldn't question the Right of Conscription, I believe that his judgment in this matter is most assuredly clouded."
"With respect, Ser Rylock," Leif said, "my judgment is no more or less clouded than yours."
"This apostate is a murderer."
"I do not believe he is, but it is not of any relevance. Grey Wardens don't have the luxury of discrimination when it comes to allies and recruits. And you'd do well to remember that the hordes of darkspawn don't discriminate when it comes to their enemies."
"Your opinion may carry a great deal of weight with many, Commander, but it doesn't matter to me," Rylock growled out. "You are preventing me from fulfilling a sacred obligation to the Maker."
"I do not pretend to know the Maker's divine plan," Leif growled back, "but I seem to recall that magic exists to serve man and I have served man quite faithfully of late. I will invoke the Right of Conscription whenever I must in order to serve again."
"Why are we still talking to some nug-humping Templar?" Oghren demanded to know. "Get back to your Chantry, girlie, and let us get back to killing."
Rylock clenched her gauntlet-covered hands. "I will not tolerate—"
"Ser Rylock, control yourself or else be silent," Anora said in a cold, imperious tone. She took no notice of Oghren whatsoever as if not giving him any attention would magically force him out of existence. "Whatever else he might be, Commander Amell is a Grey Warden. We may not care for his methods, but his loyalty and service to the people of Ferelden are both above question and scrutiny."
"Your majesty, if he were asking for anyone else—"
The Queen sighed. "The Right of Conscription is available to the Wardens at all times and for all people. Seneschal Varel mentioned not half a moment ago that their ranks must be restored. I can think of no greater justice for this man than asking him to serve in the place of the fallen. That includes the Templars who died here today."
"If… If your majesty thinks that it is best."
Rylock stormed off and Anora imperiously took her leave moments later.
Anders seemed stunned, Oghren seemed thrilled, and Mhairi seemed relieved to have an additional companion.
"That's just how Duncan would have done it," Alistair said in a low, admiring tone. "Without the long awkward pause of inner turmoil, mind you, but still."
Leif flinched, relieved when Alistair didn't appear to notice. He'd admired the other Warden greatly, but the thought of being like him the man Duncan had had to be... Of becoming less and less capable of compassion in the face of obligation and sacrifice, wasn't very flattering.
Chapter Notes:
The title comes from "Come and Find Me" by Josh Ritter.
I could not resist writing about an Amell Warden in love with Anders. And this fic/series will also continue on into Dragon Age II because really my favorite aspect of an Amell Warden is the idea of him/her meeting up with Hawke & Family & Co.
I have half of the fic that will take place during Awakening already written and I'm working on the next half. But I couldn't put off posting any longer. Even if I'm nervous as hell about this monstrosity!
For a visual reference, I sort of picture Leif Amell looking a bit like aramaki's Oliver Hawke as pictured here and here. But with freckles. Because.