Unexpected Visit

The smell - that was the first thing he didn't trust about this city. It wasn't so bad up top where sunlight touched, but down here in what was called the 'Undercity' by locals it collected in shadows like a mist, trying to spread out and suffocate those that would call this place home.

Aramil hated it; there was something about the place that reminded him of years past growing up in the tower. He cringed as he drew another breath of the foul air into his lungs. It wasn't just down here - it was the whole city that made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. He recalled reading about Kirkwall back in the tower, when he spent his free time reading any book he could get his hands on in the Circle's library. Being here though, no amount of texts could prepare him for this. It was as if he could almost taste the Veil; he had to keep his guard up, else risk catching little glimpses of shadowy figures in the corner of his eye.

He'd rather have just had given this place a wide berth on his trip back to Ferelden from Antiva. Hell, he'd rather he was still in Antiva, at his Crow's side, but he had received rumors about a witch matching Morrigan's description that forced him to part from his lover once again. Now this, the rumors coming out from Kirkwall just had to catch his interest, he found himself in this 'Darktown', following rumors of a healer who had set up a free clinic. Not just any healer, though - one that 'used to be a Warden', as the rumor went.

He cringed as he stepped in something foul. At lease he wore actual boots here, unlike the flimsier footwear that seemed to be the norm for elves here.

Anders cursed at the knocking at his clinic's door. It was rare to have someone come once the lamps were out at the end of the day. It was not unheard of, though, and if someone did come, it was with frantic banging and panicked shouts. This had neither, and his friends knew he could be reached at Hawke's estate, so Anders didn't look up from his tidying as he shouted at whoever to come back tomorrow. He was done for the day and all he wished for was to get out of here, maybe stop at the Hanged Man for a bit and then fall into that delightful bed he shared in Hightown.

The sound of a door opening made him realized he would have to postpone all of that until he made this fool realize that unless they had a sword sticking out of their chest, or darkspawn gnawing on their ankles, that it could wait for the morning. He was even in the middle of stating just that as he turned around until he actually saw who had entered and the words died on his lips, the annoyed look he had on his face turning to shock.

"You wouldn't actually let a darkspawn make a meal of my limbs now, would you?"

Aramil Surana turned from shutting the door behind him, a thin brow raised, as he continued in. His footsteps echoed with the sound of the heavy silverite armor he wore, crafted by Master Wade for certain by craft and detail, Vigilance's pommel sticking out behind one of his shoulders. The corner of the elf's mouth lifted in a smirk as he took in Anders' expression before he continued, "Surely you wouldn't leave me to bleed out, or worse, make me seek out that old Miss 'The-Fade-shines-out-of-my-ass' Wynne instead."

Anders was thankful he had been cleaning off table just a few moments before as apparently his legs had decided to give out on him. He leaned back against the wood as he took his shock in- of all the people he might have expected, his ex-Commander was definitely sitting at the bottom of his list. There was no doubt it was him though; the past few years apparently had been kinder to Aramil than they were to him. The harsh look and creased brow he remembered the Commander having back in Ferelden from dealing with the Blight and then Amaranthine had faded away, leaving the mage looking almost like the old slightly amused Aramil from back in the Circle, though nowhere near as pale as he remembered the elf being back then. Then of course there was his hair - that deep red color left no mistake of who it was. It was still long and pulled back in a pony tail with long bangs to frame his now-tanned face. Anders recalled how he used to be so amused at Aramil's hair back in the tower, many a female apprentice used to be jealous at just how good he, a male elf of all things, could pull off such a look while at the same time leave Greagoir and the other Templars sputtering at the wrong of him doing so. He supposed it had been the other mage's way to rebel back then.

Realizing he was being rude and staring at Aramil for a good few moments now, forced himself to straighten up, clearing his throat before speaking. "I-Er, never that. You would probably let yourself bleed out rather than listen to another of the old bat's lectures." He couldn't help but smile slightly, just seeing his old friend made part of his old self surface. "Of all the things, I never would of expected to see you here.."

Aramil laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes, well, I happened to be in the neighborhood and heard the most interesting of rumors about Kirkwall's champion and her Warden apostate in a city ran by Templars," he raised his gauntleted hands palm up, as if such things were normal. "Figured it would be impolite not to visit."

Anders folded his arms over his chest, knowing what exactly his ex-Commanders' visit could mean. "Did they send you to bring me back? I'm not returning to those bastards."

Aramil blinked, frowning slightly before crossing his own arms. "No. I'm not here on behalf of the Wardens. They've not been that pleased with me either, just starting to get over the whole 'Architect business'.."

Anders grimaced at the mention of that, and Justice stirred uncomfortably. Sparing the Architect had been the one of the few things that he, both of them, had disagreed strongly about with their Commander back then. Pushing the feeling back down, he let out a sigh. "Yes, well. I suppose that did end up working well for you. There have been fewer raids and sightings on the surface over the years.."

The other mage's face fell slightly at his curt tone and Anders quickly regretted his choice of words. "I'm sorry, it's not important anymore.. please, come sit and tell me why of all places you decided to visit this blighted city." He moved to offer Aramil a seat and joined him at the table behind him.

Aramil nodded, moving to take a seat as Anders did the same, drawing and resting his sword against the table before the elf rested his elbows on the wooden surface. "Honestly, I'm on my way back from Antiva. I shall miss the place, it was most.. entertaining.. compared to our Ferelden, in the good sense." The elf's lips twitched in a smile but it drop as his face became more serious, "I have heard rumors of this place, not just of its Champion, but other things as well that I find myself concerned with. I have personal reasons to return to Ferelden, so I will book passage across the sea here and see for myself if the rumors speak true."

Anders frowned at the other's words. "Then why come down to here, to me? Unless I'm mistaken, you're still advisor to Ferelden's king, you have all rights to announce yourself at court."

Again that thin brow raised on Aramil's face as he considered. "Me? An armored elf walking around with a sword almost longer than himself strapped to his back, announce himself to the city? They would doubt me if I told them who I am. They should as well, as from all accounts, Alistair's Chancellor is a mage, Maker forbid, and mages wear robes. Such a guest wouldn't be here without his own guard either." He spread his arms to remind Anders of just how he was dressed, "Yet I walk around as if a warrior, not a mage, with no guards. I am no chancellor in their eyes. As it is, I've already turned Denerim on its head, I doubt Kirkwall would allow me to do just the same."

Anders scoffed, leaning back as he crossed his arms. "You clearly haven't met Marian then, she's as bad as you and just as frightening at times. She has left many nobles fuming at how quickly she rises."

That amused smirk returned to Aramil's face. "A fine woman for sure then. Honestly though, I still consider you a friend, and if anything, court has taught me it is that the dirty underbelly of any city is where one goes to find the actual goings-on. I trust your words over any insincere noble."

Letting out a sigh, Anders leaned forward, resting his own elbows on the table. "In that case, I hate to say things are as bad as you've probably heard." He scowled, his voice turning more bitter as he went on, "Meredith is a tyrant. The mages struggle and push under her control but it only causes her to tighten her fist around them more. Each month, there are more tranquil, more stories of abuse. It's gotten to the point where those that don't try to escape are beginning to look to blood magic I fear. I've helped as many as I can, but each time becomes more of a peril as the Knight-Commander's fist grips harder."

Aramil's brows creased as he listened. "Why does the Grand Cleric not intervene? The Chantry governs the Templars, and the Knight-Commander is clearly abusing her position at this point, by law the Grand Cleric has the right to force her to step down."

Anders let out a bark of laughter, his voice dripping with scorn. "Elthina says she is trying to keep the peace, intervening when it gets to out of hand, but it's clear Meredith walks over her in her old age. When she does acts, it's only to cause a stalemate. She places a lid on the cauldron that threatens to overflow." A dark look passed over his face, "Eventfully it will not be enough.

Aramil let out a sign as he ran his hands over his face. "It is clearly worse than I hoped... I'm sorry." He chewed on his bottom lip, an old tick that surfaced when he was getting frustrated. "I feel I made the correct choice in finding you, instead of your suggestion of announcing myself at court. I would not be able sit by and let this continue to happen.."

Anger surged through Anders at Aramil's words. He is here but he just steps to the side so easily in the face of oppression. He cowers just like the First Enchanter, when he should take action! Justice raged inside of him as his hands gripped the edge of the table, leaning forward as he glared at the elf. "So instead you allow this? You come to me instead when it is your right as a free mage who has the ability to step in and help those who are being oppressed?"

Aramil flashed him a harsh look, his jaw tightening as he quietly spoke. "It is never as simple as that, you should know this by now. I would gladly 'convince' the Grand Cleric at how much of a fool she is, and do much worse to the Knight-Commander, but in doing so, I risk what isn't mine to risk. Ferelden is still recovering from the Blight and the Mother, if I acted here, I'd risk war between us." His words shot through Anders, making him realize just how much the man across from him had changed over the years. "I would leave their cursed Circle a smoldering ruin. My actions would be seen as Alistair's and the other cities in the Marshes would rise up and march in retribution. Innocents would die because I'm no longer just a person in everyone's eyes; I'm a symbol for a nation."

Anders' shoulders slumped in defeat, the need for vengeance roiling inside of him, but his old Commander's words had the harsh ring of truth to them. "It's just so hard, being here, seeing what it happening around you. Having the power to do something, but.. Even now, I fear one day Hawke's open support won't be enough."

Aramil let out a sigh, the harshness fading to sorrow. "I know, believe me, I know.." He shifted in his seat as he tried to get comfortable again, his plate armor clinking against the mail he wore under, "Power confines us, every action we take causes reactions that effect those that might not even be around us."

Aramil's shoulders slumped. "It seems I escape from one cage to just to find myself in another, this one crafted by my own doing.."

Anders winced at the elf's words, the rising tide of vengeance receding. "I hate it when you're right."

Aramil chuckled softly as he smiled weakly at the other man. "You're not the only one. You'll get used to it."

Anders shot Aramil a look that tried to be annoyed but ended up being more amused. "Maker's breath, elf, you're worse than the damned Qunari." He paused as if remembering something suddenly held her hand in interruption before standing up at the table. "I forgot. I have something I think you might be interested in."

Aramil tilted his head as the other mage moved to the wall in the back of the room, kneeling down and running his fingers against the wooden panels as if feeling for something. Finding the hidden catch, a small part of the wall shifted and he removed a small panel of wood to reveal a hidden cache big enough to store a few small items. He pulled out a wrapped bundle before replacing the panel and making sure it was hidden again before moving back to the table and placing the bundle down in front of Aramil.

"A few years back, we found a courier that had been ambushed. Once we clearly them out, we found out he was carrying a package from Soldier's Peak to be deliver to the Wardens. It had some papers and a vial," he explained awkwardly as he motioned for Aramil to open it. "Marian entrusted me with carrying them, since I was a Warden. We did take them to the drop off that was stated in the note for in case anything prevented them from being delievered by hand. But not before I.. uh, managed to make a copy of the notes and kept the vial.. I figured in case if our paths ever crossed again, since you left Amaranthine before me.."

Aramil raised a brow before opening the bundle, picking up the vial and giving it a glance before placing it down and began reading the papers. His curiosity quickly changing to shock and then surprise as he read more, quickly going through the next few papers. "Incredible! I would never have realized there was such a connection!" His voice was almost gleeful as he flipped through the notes. "The Architect's insight probably shaved years off from this discovery."

Anders shifted uncomfortably at Aramil's delight. He had read those notes, he knew what Aramil was researching and the thought sent cold shivers down his spine. Thedas was better off not knowing how much the Hero of the Fifth Blight and his odd allies dealt in blood magic. Surely if the truth every came out that a blood mage held heavy sway in Ferelden's court, right under a Grand Cleric's nose, there would be no doubt that an Exalted March would be called before the year was out.

Aramil look up, his mouth opening and shutting as if he was about to speak, but something held him back. His eyes got a faraway look as he lowered the papers and turned his face towards the door. "Company."

His nostrils flared as he stood up slowly. "One smells of lyrium, the other.." The hand that had been moving to his weapon paused and he blinked in confusion. "..blood magic."

Aramil's words were forgotten as the door to the clinic banged open as it was kicked in, revealing Fenris, whose hands were full with Hawke leaning against him, the elf cursed as he adjusted Hawke's arm over his shoulder as he tried to guide her in. The woman was clearly was having difficulty moving and wouldn't have made it this far without Fenris to support her weight.

"Damnit woman, move! Mage!" Fenris shouted as Anders rushed over, getting Marian's other arm over his neck and together quickly got her over to the nearest cot.

Anders didn't waste time, turning the woman's head to get a look at her, his hands checking over her for any wounds. Panic threatened to bubble its way up his throat as he listened to his beloved's shallow, wet gasps, her chest heaving quickly as her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. Her head rolled under his touch, eyes half lidded. She was clearly not aware of her surroundings.

Anders' lips grew flat in dread. "What happened?"

Fenris' hands clenched and unclenched into fists, clearly aggravated over Hawke's state. "We were heading to the Hanged Man when trouble found us. Mages." His upper lip twitched in disdain, but his look soften when he glanced down to Hawke. How he wanted to help her, but he would only get in the way at this point. He looked back to Anders, his face turning to disdain again. "They mistook us for Templars, even after Hawke foolishly tried to reason with them. Would have been fine, but one managed to get to her blind side, and used blood magic. This is what your precious mages have turned to." He finished with a snarl.

Aramil moved to the other side of the cot, his glaze focused on Hawke as his lips set in a sad, knowing smile. He could feel the magic coursing through her, ravaging her insides and threatening to do more harm if anyone tried to correct it. He could feel it as if it was his own pulse.

He kneeled down next to her, a hand reaching up to lift a heavy eye lid so he could check her eyes. "She's hemorrhaging.."

Fenris jumped at the other elf's words, not noticing him before now. "Who are..", he shook his head, questions could wait for later. "Then heal her, mage."

Anders didn't need to be told twice as he lifted his hands and began to draw forth energy but a tight grip around his wrist stopped him. His head shot up in anger at the interruption.

Catching Anders' attention, Aramil shook his head before glancing over the human's shoulder to Fenris then back to Anders sharply. "If you want her to live, get him out of here and then come assist me."

Understanding shot through Anders, causing him to scramble to his feet. How thankful he was that Fenris was too confused at the moment at what was going on, as he doubted he could have forced the elf to move otherwise. Anders was stronger than most realized, but he knew the elf warrior was all corded muscle. It wasn't until he almost had Fenris to the door that the elf snapped out of his fog and shot Anders a look, opening his mouth as if to protest. But it wasn't some request Aramil had given or blood magic compelling him - it was an order from his Commander. Even after these years, that voice had even caused Justice to pause.

He gave Fenris an apologetic look as he forced him out the door, pausing as he began to shut the door. "Just wait out here, don't worry, she's in good hands."

Fenris' jaw clenched as he just nodded slightly.

Anders finished shutting the door and quickly turned back to Aramil and Hawke.

Aramil had casted a gauntlet to the ground and undone Hawke's leather vest and undershirt, revealing her chest. Her skin was clammy with a thin covering of sweat; her armor had hidden angry bruises. He ran his freed hand gently over the pale flesh. "It attacks from here, with each heart beat it spreads further. The spell makes it see normal magic as an assault, and attacks the caster." He looked at Anders, his hand remaining over Hawke's chest. "I will unravel this, but it won't stop the bleeding."

Anders glanced down to Marian, swallowing his fear. She'll be fine, she's been through worse. She'll be making horrible jokes again in no time. He tried to convince himself, but it felt hollow even in his head. "Well then, let's not waste time.. After you."

Aramil nodded sharply, closing his eyes as he placed his hand on her chest. Blood began to flow down his exposed arm, pooling around his hand as he focused on his task. He ignored the feeling, Anders knew the price of his help, and Aramil would use his own life blood in payment. Past experiments by Avernus allowed the elven Warden to summon forth his own blood at will, normally used as a weapon against darkspawn, this would be new for him in using it to help heal someone.

Aramil's brow creased as he focused on unweaving the spell. He began at the spell's core, feeling it pulse like a second heartbeat under his hand, his blood magic flowed over it, embracing it gently as it entangled with the similar magic until it was as if his own casting. Sweat broke out on his brow as his other hand gripped the woman's shoulder, only partly aware that the body underneath him had arched and mouth opened to scream in protest as more blood magic washed over her. If he stopped now, he risked the spell rebounding on both of them and this would be all for naught. His lips twisted in a snarl as he continued, drawing the spell back into him, feeling its corruption finally releasing the woman's body as it willingly flowed into his own.

Such hatred, fear.. they fear this much it reflects in their blood. He gasped for breath, his shoulders shook as he finished, forcing the blood magic back under control once it was hosted inside his body. His mind babbled from the rush. The Gallows. The Veil so thin. Fear breeds with their Knight-Commander in the center of it.

The rush of healing magic was more refreshing than any breath of air as it entered the quieted body under his grasp. Anders wasted no time once he sensed the magic receding. The bleeding stopped and the damage was healed until Hawke's skin returned to a more normal color, and the bruises and clammy texture faded. Finally Hawke's body relaxed as she slept in a healing state.

Aramil willed his shaking to stop as he removed his hand; his own blood receded leaving only a bloody hand print on Hawke's chest and dried bloody ribbons on his arm. He looked to Anders, noticing the open look of relief on the human's face as he gently stroked Hawke's cheek, causing the woman to murmur in her sleep.

Giving his friend a moment, Aramil went in search for something to clean off the dried blood. Thankfully Anders kept a basin of tepid water not too far off, a stack of mostly-clean towels folded next to it. He damped one and wiped off his arm before returning to Anders and offering him the towel silently.

Anders took it without looking up, cleaning off the bloody print before straightening Hawke's armor. He smiled slightly, knowing how his love would react to waking up to company with her chest hanging out for everyone to see. Even if it was such a delightful chest.

"Well then.." Aramil pushed his hair out of his face before leaning down to pick up his discarded gauntlet and began putting it back on. "Never can have a normal visit, can we?"

Anders finally straighten up as the door opened, reaching out to clasp his friend's arm. "Just like old times."

Aramil grinned, that old cocky gleam in his eyes returning as he returned Anders grasp. "Wouldn't have it any other way. I should get going before today gets even more eventful. Let's continue this over drinks soon, I'll be around until I find a ship to book passage." He looked over the taller man's shoulder, leering at Fenris who had poked his head in now that things seemed to have settled again . "You'll have to introduce me to your new friends, they seem so, delightful."

Anders shook his head as their grasp broke and Aramil made his way out, passing Fenris with only a glance out of the corner of his eye as he left.

Anders could only watch his friend go as Fenris barged in, demanding answers as Anders sat down in fatigue next Hawke's sleeping form in the cot. Maker.. what have I gotten myself into now?