When he thinks back on it, Anders realised that he'd pretty much asked for the bad luck that came with the weekly drinking night.
Anders had never been much of a friend magnet for the Dalish. The two or three that he came across on his escapes from the tower hadn't been particularly friendly to him, but then again, he hadn't even been more than fleetingly hostile. All Dalish tended to catch him on bad days.
Nevertheless, his travels with the Commander had changed his thoughts completely. After six months with the Wardens, and a month after the icky business with the Mother and the Architect, things had settled down. Only one thing was refusing to settle down, and it was the Commander herself.
"You know, move any more on that seat, and I suspect that the recruits will begin to assume you have something in your knickers." Anders voiced to her, leaning back in his chair with his cat sitting on the edge of the table. The Commander shot him a look. "I'm just saying." Her look turned into one he'd seen on a Dalish hunter before; Velanna had been known to show it too. It was the 'speak one more word, and I'll fill you full of arrows' look.
"Speak louder, Anders, please. I'm sure the entire keep wants to know that the Commander is a bit antsy." Her voice was sarcastic, and she idly played with the strap of her pack.
"Oh they'll forget by tomorrow; the keep doesn't smell like a brewery for nothing. Then again, you know how the dwarves are." Anders moved out of her way when she swatted a hand in his direction, and raised her glass to her lips.
"If that's the case, I may as well make the best of it." Her words were eerie, but she downed her entire glass and placed it gently back onto the table.
"Careful; drink anymore and you might just be telling me the story of how you ran naked through Denerim, again." Anders cast a grin, but she frowned.
"I told you about that?"
"My lady!" Anders put on a mock shocked tone, eyebrow raised. "You didn't, although now I'm inclined to know. Do share."
"Four words; Oghren, rum, nightfall, rain." Then, as an afterthought, "And mud." Anders raised an eyebrow.
"That's a charming image you've just conjured up for me there, thanks."
"You asked."
"So I did." Anders glanced at her, watching her eyes wander over towards Justice, who was standing away from them all and quietly observing them.
"Look at him… Poor, naïve, innocent Justice. Only ever believing in the good and never the bad. Not knowing how things work in a world so different from his own." The Commander frowned sadly, shaking her head. Anders elbowed her.
"I don't see the problem there, you know. You'd be good for each other." At Anders' words, the Commander sat back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other.
"Look at Anders, getting all sentimental." She mocked, before she glanced back. "I'm not a fan of Necrophilia. Unless I'm really, really drunk." She frowned; Anders made a small gagging noise to be dramatic.
"You know, you're sending my mind to all kinds of places; places it doesn't want to really go."
"Glad I could help. Creators, lets make a toast."
"Yes, let's toast to Ser pounce-a-lot!" Anders picked the cat up and held it to her face, momentarily forgetting about her allergies until she sneezed into the cats face. "Oh, Commander, a little warning, please!"
"Get that thing away from me. Creators, I know I gave him to you as a pet, but don't shove him in my face." The Commander grumbled, but Anders was busy with wiping the poor cat's face.
"I know, Ser Pounce-a-lot, the Commander is mean. She's too silly if she prefers smelly Mabari to a prized cat like you!"
"Raise your glass Anders, we're making a toast." She had her command tone on, and Anders dutifully placed the cat onto the floor before raising his glass.
"Let's toast to the Wardens."
"And Vigils keep." She added.
"And safety; I like living, it's good and alive and significantly not dead. I can walk around and everything."
"Shut it; let's toast to freedom."
"For everyone, including sad, oppressed mages like myself."
"And finally, raise your glass, for me." The Commander had a daunting tone to her words, but Anders merely clinked his glass with her refilled one, and drank it. He saw her deeply apologetic look cast towards him a few seconds later, and Anders quickly gripped the table to steady himself as he started to sway. No one saw him fall to the floor, since they were in the corner of the Keep's main hall, and Anders saw the Commander hover over him before he felt oddly dizzy. He realised that she'd slipped something into his drink, and after that, it was all incoherent until he fell unconscious.
Her letter the next morning explained it all; personal reasons for leaving aside, she mentioned that Nathaniel was now Commander and that she'd have liked Anders to be his second in command. She asked him to give her apologies to everyone, mainly Justice, but she had something to do that was related to 'an old witch.' It ended lightly, with her promise that she would meet him again soon, maybe decades away, but again nonetheless. He had to look into the mirror at the last words of the letter, which told him that she was sincerely sorry for the tattoo on his forehead, but he needn't worry because it would wash off in a week, and he should learn not to drink anything a Grey Warden gives him.
When Nathaniel saw the letter, he was ready to make Anders his second in command quite quickly so he wasn't on his own. The mage blanched.
Anders couldn't have fled Ferelden fast enough.
A/N: Hey! And another one from me! I seem to be shooting out one-shots a lot lately, probably because the new game has been released.
I might make a little series; small humorous/tragic pieces on characters relationships with the Warden/Champion. Depends on feedback D:
Anywho, there ya go (: