AN: A little something to get me back into the spirit of writing In Peace Vigilance, and possibly continuing an Rose By Any Other. Let me know what you think. This is the prequel to IPV told from Anders perspective on things in the Circle leading up to his reunion with Solona Amell. This is more a collection of thoughts and descriptions rather than words. It seemed more poetic and trapped and less dimensional that way. To allude to the opinion of being cooped up and trapped. Either way reviews are welcome and thank you for reading.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Dragon Age. Those belong to Bioware and EA
A Change in the Wind
A bird locked in a cage. A man bound by his duty. A princess trapped in a tower. A wild animal captured in a net. Those feelings welled in Kinloch Hold. Under the surface of smiles and friendship, whispered words with trusted companions always brought about the truth. Those feelings emanated the most when the seasons changed from crisp summer to chilled autumn. The stench of wet dog, stone, and old age was thickest this time of year. How he hated the prison he was forced to call his only home. The mage, Anders, despised what the walls around him personified. They were his eternal torment, his physical proof he would never be free. The very real truth that no matter what he did he would always be stuck within the cold dark walls of the Circle of Magi, was ever apparent at all times.
His world was dark, and all he wished for was the light. He sought it out when he had turned sixteen. He made it to the Spoiled Princess before being dragged back to the stone prison and whipped for his crime. First Enchanter Irving never did allow him to be punished too severely. He always claimed there was a purpose for Anders. A purpose Anders would have to seek on his own. Yet, how could there be any purpose to a life that was already determined for you?
He would never roam freely traipsing around as a hero saving damsels in distress. He would never roam the lands in search of a cure for a disease that ravaged the land. He would never meet a woman in need of saving, who would fall in love with him and spend the rest of her life with him. There would be no children to raise to torment the Templars. There would be no fairy tale ending some scarce books in the vast library promised its protagonists and readers.
No his purpose was to train his gifts, go on a few specified and supervised quests to aid whomever the damned Chantry determined deserving. Then one day when he was old it would be to teach younger mages to grow up and do the same. No, his purpose was to grow old and die in a place that suited its name. It was truly a circle, to be found a new mage, learn your trade, go do a few things which would inevitably bring in coin, and then teach others to do the same, who would practice their trade, make coin on Chantry quests, grow old, teach others, and die. The vicious circle they landed in would never stop turning. Not for anyone, who was unlucky enough to receive the Maker's Gift of Magic.
Anders decided if he was stuck in this blasted prison he would make the most of it. Fraternizing with the opposite sex was highly discouraged, outside of friendship. Any child would not be your own, and if by pure chance the child never showed signs of magic, they would never been seen or heard of again. Relationships were messy, and cause for concern. It brought fear of demons and temptations and escape and Maker knew what else. So fraternizing was highly discouraged. There was also the constant guard.
Ever vigilant, ever there, ever alert, and ever uncaring. The Templars deterred most terrible behavior. Who knew men in frilly skits and tin cans could be so intimidating when younger and so hilarious once you aged past eighteen. Anders made it his duty to fluster the guards in charge of his prison. He also made it his habit that if it had breasts it was fair game to chase. While frowned upon, the most entertainment most of the Templars ever had in the sexual persuasion was that of those bold male mages who would sneak around with chosen female mages for quick trysts. It was rare an incident was reported. When done the Mages knew what corners and when were unsuitable for a late night rendezvous The Templars changed around schedules less than the Chantry changed their minds about mages. This was, to clarify, never.
So when Anders returned from his second trip and subsequent lashing, he sought out romantic company, until his next chance at escape arose. Well not so much romantic as sexual, but the point is still the same. Anders would never become romantic with another mage, two birds locked in a cage in love, were still locked in a cage. No true privacy and no true freedom to do as they pleased. So he sought out the less reputable mage females. He'd done his round of both the older females and the age appropriate younger mages as well. After a time he'd even discovered some of the lithe, and more feminine males caught his attention as well. Debauchery was all too common place in a prison filled with hormones and dreams of escape. Even for a moment the walls would close too tight and most would seek comfort or escape in anything.
Anders soon tired of his once or twice trysts and sought a partner he knew would hold no strings. One with a mentality set in knowing everything was about that moment of escape and pleasure. Truth be told that was hard to come by in the Circle. He soon found it in the quiet elf Neria Surana. She was passionate in bed, and met his needs, but also understood feelings would never mix with their actions. He enjoyed the elf female far more than the humans he was used to, thus a companionship was born. Unfortunately his life was about to be shaken upside down.
It always seemed that whenever things were beginning to brighten for the Spirit Healer in training, they'd explode in his face like an apprentice's first fireball. So after his third escape he was sent to the First Enchanter's office for punishment to be determined. Of course fate stepped in and had bookish little Solona Amell opening the door to the First Enchanter's office right into Anders' nose. Suffice to say, the surprise attack did not sit well with the older mage. Anders watched, somewhat fascinated as her eyes softened and her mouth opened to apologize before she registered just whom she had slammed into.
Anders almost wanted to flinch at the glare that pierced through him. The whispered words as she stalked past him were just barely deciphered. 'Screw up's like you give mages like us such a bad title with the rest of the world.' Bitter, harsh, uncaring. Never had Anders thought the sweet innocent Enchanter's Pet had the ability to do anything other than smile. He watched her pass with avid interest. His subconscious taking note that she had grown into a woman since he had last really taken the time to notice her. A cough from behind startled him out of his thoughts. Turning his head, he knew the look the First Enchanter was giving him either spelled doom in his future or something was going right in the old codger's brain.
The idea of having to personally tutor Solona Amell in Spirit Magic was both appealing and appalling to the elder mage. She was notorious for her inability to cast even one spell from that school of magic to its intended effect. She excelled in Entropic and Elemental Magic and for some reason she had one class with just the First Enchanter every week. Hence everyone assumed Solona Amell was destined to be the next First Enchanter. She had the skill, the attitude, the love of her own prison, and she alone was allowed special passes to study alone with a Templar guard after curfew. The old coot was hoping some of her good behaviors and loyalty to the rules would rub off on him. Sadly, for the old mage, Anders swore he would never change.
Solona Amell was the worst Spirit Mage to ever have been granted the Maker's Blessing. The woman could not even heal a paper cut properly Last time she tried she regenerated a mouse that Mr. Wiggum's had almost killed a few feet away. Anders was about to lose his mind and sought out Wynne for help teaching the stubborn woman. It had been a few months and summer was in full swing. While Wynne attempted to train the female Anders was making his way to Redcliff. He smiled brightly when the Templar's arrived and stated he'd just wanted to visit a Chantry. Sadly the 'pretend' there was no Chantry in the Circle did not work as well as he had hoped.
When Anders arrived at the Tower Solona punched him in the jaw as soon as he walked through the door. She then healed the wound properly before declaring she no longer wanted him as her tutor. The words stuck with him as he was beaten for the fourth time. He went seeking her, and realized just how much she and Surana looked alike. Not truly thinking he asked Surana to pretend to be Solona for him for one night. Needless to say the elf was upset at the odd request, but acquiesced. Solona was the Ice Queen, many of the mages made the comparison in the physicality they shared. Solona was far too short for a human, and Neria was a little too tall. Their hair similar shades of jet black, and their eyes both an odd shade of green. Solona's just seemed to glow a little brighter and Neria's a little more blue than green. Offended that the conquest of holding Anders for months sexually was tied in with her similar appearance to 'Do No Wrong Solona' set her to end the affair.
Anders waited until after Wynne had finished her attempt to sort out the mysteries of Solona's healing ability deficiency, before he approached her. The fire in her eyes and the way her body shook with seething rage at his mere presence, it filled him with a sense of satisfaction he had never known. The words were barely remembered and the context of what started this explosion was forgotten the second she was within arm's reach. The smell of her, it tantalized his senses and he knew, just knew he had to have her. She had protested at first, rather violently, his knees never would stop hurting when he bent too far. Eventually she surrendered, and the sweet bliss offered to him in that moment felt more intense than every experience he'd had in their prison since his capture.
The days grew shorter, and color turned to blinding white, and Anders felt the color appropriate for the light he was feeling. When the stark contrast of green, and with it Surana's jealousy, he grew possessive of the female mage, who still could not mend anything unless she was pissed at whomever she was healing. Jowan started sniffing around at Surana's behest, and Anders felt his first real chilling emotion. He'd realized that Solona meant a little too much to him, much more than he'd ever intended to feel for anyone. She was a weakness. She'd be used against him. She would never try and escape the gilded cage and he would have to come back to her if ever he wanted to be with her again. She was a trap, his trap.
He fled again, when he reached Lothering he thought he was safe, until he saw someone who looked oddly like his discarded lover. Unfortunately it was not her, and she used him to cover up her own mistake of using magic near a Templar. When he returned to the Tower, he saw Solona at the steps reading a book and doing something with a flower and her hand. She looked up at her Templar guard and tossed the flower at Anders in a huff. He wondered what she did to the plant because he was winded when the damned thing hit his chest. He made to follow her, but sadly she was pulled off by Jowan, and her Templar stalker followed after like a lost pup.
Another year went by and, with much begging and pleading, Solona was once more his to cherish secretly. He claimed her as his openly, but she herself would never know her own value to him. To protect the beautiful bird, ignorance was best. She was reaching a terrifying age in the circle, because she was over eighteen and had yet to undergo her Harrowing. The more he panicked, the more she relaxed. She was well aware she was learning something not strictly in the books appropriate for an apprentice, but Anders never noticed. The First Enchanter was holding steady until she had a basic grasp of the concept of her Force magic. Still he worried over her safety, taking time to train her in more advanced magics to better prepare her for her Harrowing.
When he went to demand why Solona was so far behind the others ready to take their Harrowing he'd over heard the First Enchanter and Gregior arguing over what to do about Amell's Harrowing. Gregior thought it madness to allow the mage to face a pride demon. It hadn't been done before in Ferelden and only seldom in the rest of Thedas. Irving was confident there was no demon Solona could not handle and figured throwing the biggest threat at her would better prepare her than a simple rage demon. She was too clever and she'd realize what was happening anyways.
Anders ran to the apprentice rooms and sought out the treasure he wanted to protect. He stopped, knowing revealing what she was about to face would end in possibly both their deaths. There was nothing he could do for her to aid her, so his brain offered an alternative. He helped her relax by spending one night making her feel everything he felt for her. Whether she was aware or not need not matter to him. He only wanted to believe he had expressed his feelings to her. When she whispered words of love and adoration as she drifted off to the Fade his heart hurt. He felt a hole tearing its way through his chest and it burned and ached in a way he'd never known.
That was the sixth time he escaped. He even managed to make it to Denerim, which was odd, normally there was not much else for the Templars to do but hunt apostates. Then again rumors the fifth Blight was beginning were swarming all the taverns. The Grey Wardens were recruiting and off to Ostagar to face the Darkspawn head on. Anders met an exotic Pirate Captain at the Pearl and almost made it aboard her ship before he was carted off by the Chantry once more. Only this time he knew there would be no Solona waiting for him. There would be no light in the damp dark of the prison, only hate and anguish. So he trudged along and none of his captors would let on her state. When he arrived at the Circle not even Irving would tell him what had happened. His punishment was a year in solitary confinement in the basement. Irving had said how Anders should have stayed a little longer and been able to join the Grey Wardens' had he impressed their representative. He had taken another mage instead.
It was not for another three months that when the snow was just beginning to blanket the land that Uldred struck his rebellion and Surana set him free. Anders ran, as he always did and never thought to ask if his former lover still lived. Surely she would have visited at some point. She was Irving's favorite pupil. So he stopped using magic and managed to make a few allies in a bid to escape the Blighted Dog-Land. As fate would have it he'd heard tales of the Mage handpicked at the Circle of Magi who was leading the fight against the Blight, and changing the tide in the civil war that ravaged the land. Word reached him the Warden managed to end the Blight and lived. He hoped maybe mages would earn a little more respect now.
He breathed the Salty air in deep as he watched the horizon fade away as Blimey kicked him in the back of the shin. Another tower stood in front of him. All of Ferelden had to be filled with Towers, actual Towers, not castles but Towers with a wall around them. Never in this cursed land of dark would he find peace his mind sought. So as he lay back onto the cot and watched the sky darken he closed his eyes and went to his favorite spot in the fade. The spot where his Solona never died, and Mages were free, and it seemed his wife was pregnant now. He smiled as he dreamed in his own personal part of the fade.
The horrid smell of burning flesh, rotten corpses, and the repugnant stench of death awoke the mage from his respite. He was alert as he felt more than heard the pain around him. His connection to the fade still lingering with him as he woke. Before he could think he'd blasted fire at a Genlock and his prison swung open. He'd heard booted footsteps and sighed. He turned his head to plead his case again and was blinded for a moment and a scent snuck its way to his brain. Anders had to blink because it no longer smelled of death and charred flesh, dog, or even blood.
"Solona." He breathed out her name like a whispered prayer, before regaining his usual candor. "Is it really you or are the darkspawn recruiting desire demons now?"
He saw the concern, care, and seething anger well up in her eyes and knew before she opened those petal perfect lips to begin nagging him she was no trick or figment of his imagination. He knew that freedom had a smell and he had known it once before. The locked door was open and freedom was going to finally be his own. Its name was Solona Amell. Anders smirked as his world shifted and dreams became reality once more, he felt the caress of air from the outside, there was a change in the wind.
AN: I know it's short but let me know what you think. Leave a review as it feeds my drive to write more, or at least post what I write. Also I need a beta for IPV if anyone is interested.