Notes: Title of Story is 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana. Doesn't necessarily pertain to its lyrics. Y'know how there are a bunch of children and teens crammed into one tower? Well. To the Templars, it smells like teen spirit. Simple.
EDIT: Changed the title to 'Our Hell' by Emily Haines and The Soft Skeleton. More meaningful.
I've always stuck to one-shots but I suppose it's time to make a chapter story. I've always been inspired by karebear's stories about Anders and I read her stories back when I used to hate the guy. But now I want to get inside his head too, see what made him go from healer to terrorist. I'm slowly understanding him but I still kinda dislike him. Let's see how this goes.
Chapter Song: Dear My Closest Friend by Flyleaf.
I own nothing. Read. Review. Roadkill.
"Stop it! Just…stop. Please." Anders managed to scream out, sprawled out on the cold stone floor. But they didn't. They just kept on going and going until finally he let go of the stinging tears that invaded his eyes, sobbing relentlessly. The laughing, the mocking, the unforgiving torture, it just wouldn't stop. He closed his eyes tightly, forcing himself not to think of the stinging pain and instead to think of numerous other things.
Trees. Wind. Grass. Water. People. Sun. Light. Dark. Birds. Friends. Spells. Amell.
"I'd like to think it was you that kept me going when I thought they wouldn't stop."
"Why me? I haven't done anything for you. I try but I can't. Irving won't let me."
"You're my friend. That's good enough for me."
Anders smiled. Blood stained his face. Arms and legs bruised. Lower lip cut and bleeding. But he managed a smile. That's what threw off the Templars for a moment. But only for a moment. They started again.
Anders still kept on smiling.
"Do you remember your family?" Amell asked in a small voice, whispering the words as she fidgeted with her robes.
"Not really. All I can remember is fire and loud angry voices. The rest is a blur." Anders knew he told a lie. He could remember a little bit more than that but dared not share more. He'd rather keep those harsh memories to himself and not let Amell know. "What about you?"
"I…there were parties. And dozens of people in fancy clothing. But none of them talked to me." Amell tugged on her robes even harder, lips pressed in a thin line. "I don't think my parents liked me."
Anders wanted to say that he understood but that'd just bring out a whole new set of emotional baggage to deal with. All he could do was silently agree, staring at her to try and catch her eye. Amell looked up momentarily before tearing her eyes away from him, glancing every which way. "How high do you think we are?"
"What?" Anders shifted around a bit, head tilted at her in a confused manner.
"In this tower. How many stories high are we?" Amell repeated, still avoiding Anders' face.
"I'd say around the top…why?" Anders grew still at the implication. He heard of mages who attempted to jump from the windows they managed to pry open, hoping to either land in the water or they just wanted to die and be done with.
"Just wondering…" The silence grew louder.
"No. Don't do it." Anders stood up abruptly, causing Amell to follow in his steps. She didn't stand nearly as tall as him, feeling significantly smaller and out of place.
"I don't-"
"Yes you do. I know what you're thinking." Anders stepped closer to Amell, towering over her.
"I'm not going to." Amell said defensively, fooling nobody.
"I'd rather be in that cell for a year than die a coward's death by letting the Templars win. Don't you see? If you jump, they win." He couldn't believe it. Her of all people. Then again he shouldn't be surprised. She's become increasingly separated from herself recently. What could possibly be wrong though?
"What other option do we have?" Amell shrugged, giving off the impression that she really didn't care what she did, just as long as she did something.
"We run." Simplicity interlaced those words but the consequences behind it were complicated. Would they lock her up like Anders? Give her a fair warning and let her be on her way?
"I don't think I can." Amell admitted.
"I'll show you otherwise. Who knows? You might actually like the view." Anders said with a small grin, giving the Amell girl a tiny push. She attempted at a smile, failing miserably. Jowan came in unexpectedly, interrupting the conversation and not even realizing it.
"Finally! I've been looking everywhere for you two. It's almost time for Karl's class." Jowan dragged Amell by her sleeve, leaving Anders to follow. The three mages tumbled through the room where Karl was currently teaching, not missing a beat despite the interruption.
Jowan took a seat beside Surana, the elf girl they all came to befriend despite the rocky start they all had with her. Amell along with Anders sat next to them. Amell and Surana were the only ones in the room who were actually listening to Karl teach. Anders took out a tome, flipping the pages and found an empty margin, doodling Templars that were on fire. Jowan glanced down at his drawings and smothered his chuckles, hiding his face behind his hand.
Karl droned on and on about potions and the effects of lyrium. Anders yawned loudly, his mind wandering. He started daydreaming about the wind's breeze against his skin and the crunching of leaves underneath his boots. Now if only he could convince Amell to come with…
"This man needs to get laid." Anders blurted out, looking terribly bored. Jowan sputtered, Amell stopped scribbling down notes, Surana's eyes practically popped out of her sockets, all the while Anders seemed to not have known he said that aloud.
"Oh…"
"…dear…"
"…Maker."
"That's disgusting." Surana mumbled under her breath, passing by a closet door that had strange noises emanating from it.
"What can I say? Everybody here is kissing everybody." Anders shrugged, chuckling a little. "What else is there to do around here?"
"Study their spells. Mix some potions. Read in the library." Surana argued.
"Maker, you remind me of Amell." Anders groaned, rolling his eyes at the elf. "Except you're more talkative. That puts you a notch above her."
"Learn about the Circle's history. Do each other's makeup."
"Never mind. You're worse." Anders spotted Amell down the hall, sighing in relief. "Lorelai!" The Amell girl didn't respond at first, not used to hearing her first name being used. She whirled around after a moment or two, hand upraised in a small wave.
"Irving's looking for you." Surana crossed her arms, glancing between the two. Anders stopped tousling Amell's hair, eyebrow quirked upwards. "Irving wants to speak to the both of us. Amell."
Amell didn't say anything, only following Surana to Irving's office, taking a moment to look back at Anders confusingly. Anders didn't say a word, watching the girls go down the hallway before leaving for the boy's dormitories.
"First Enchanter?" Surana opened the door, peeking inside.
"Come in. I believe I have something I need to tell you girls." Irving came around from behind his desk, standing in front of the elf and human. "Amell. Don't think you did anything wrong because you haven't but…due to some certain circumstances you are no longer my apprentice. Senior Enchanter Sweeney will be your teacher now."
Amell's face said it all, she didn't have to say a word. Irving took this that she had acknowledged it and moved on. "Surana. Niall suggested to me that you should be put under my wing instead of his. This is not a permanent change mind you." Irving turned to Amell who was struggling from the shock of his revelation. "Don't fret young one. Sweeney will only be your teacher temporarily until Niall is ready for you."
Surana was beaming, thanking Irving reverently and multiple times.
Amell stood there, doing nothing.
"You've got to be kidding. The man can barely see what's five feet in front of him!" Struggling to come up with a reasonable explanation, Anders was fumbling with a tome he was holding, the gears inside his head working to figure it out. Amell offered no opinion, taking a great interest at a spot on the ground. "Say…all seriousness aside…how do you think I'd look with an earring?
"I'm sorry…what?" That sure tripped her up. Anders smiled, inwardly celebrating that he got her to talk.
"An earring. What do you think? Left or right ear?" His grin was contagious and Amell clamped a hand over her mouth, hiding the grin she wore.
"Neither." She managed to say but at that moment a Templar came in on their fun, glaring at the both of them.
"Keep it down, mages. You're in a library." Anders dubbed him Mr. Point-Out-the-Obvious.
"Really? I thought I was in the kitchen. No wonder I couldn't find the recipe in this book!" He set aside the tome, sarcasm lacing his words.
"Anders." Amell warned him, whisper barely heard by the man himself.
"Are you getting smart with me boy?" The Templar took a step closer, getting up in Anders' face. Anders seemed to be having a stare-down with the helmed Templar until Amell shuffled her small frame between them.
"No. He's not sir. We were just leaving." Amell's voice reeked of fear and obedience and Anders wanted to shake her, tell her that there was nothing to be afraid of. But the Templar backed off, accepting the word of Irving's used to be star pupil.
"I'd get him out of here if I were you. Or you'll both be hauled out of here. Forcefully." Jowan from across the room heard the threats and quickly made his way toward them, exasperation coloring his actions.
"Are you two insane? You'll bring the Templars down on us if you keep that up Anders. What were you thinking? You were practically threatening that Templar." Jowan pursed his lips, taking the two out into the hallway before they caused more trouble. "Give it up Anders."
"Give it up? Give what up? My virginity?" Jowan face palmed. Amell awkwardly looked away. "Oh never! Not until I find myself a pretty girl who likes kittens. That's when I know I found the one for me."
"I meant." Jowan shook his head. "Give up the fight. You'll get us all killed."
"How's that? I'm only doing this for myself." Anders' face grew more grave, arms crossed.
"Oh forget it!" Jowan threw his arms up in the air, going back inside the library.
Amell was divided between following Jowan or staying here with Anders. She chose the latter. "You're going to leave again. Aren't you?"
"Yes. And you're coming with me."
"I've read about it but…it's nothing like the way they describe it." Amell blinked repeatedly at the harsh light from the sun, feeling its warm heat against her pale skin.
"Told you that you'd like the view." Anders beamed down at her, reveling in the outside world for as long as he can until the Templars would soon start coming after them. A grasshopper leaped onto his scuffed boots and quickly hopped off. Butterflies circled around Amell, who seemed utterly fascinated by the amount of activity happening around her. Leaves whirled past them from the steady cool breeze, the sun beginning it's slow descent into the horizon.
"Is this why you do it?" Amell asked, curiosity getting the best of her. She had to know.
"For the most part." Anders noticed that evening was fast approaching and that meant finding a place to sleep for the night, hopefully not to wake up to the face of a Templar. "Do…you want to stay out here?"
Amell turned to face her friend, uncertainty leaking into her body language. "I-I'm not sure." She began fidgeting with her frayed sleeve, picking at the loose threads. "What if we get caught? I mean. We should go back."
"You're joking right? We can't go back now, not when we made it so far." Anders gestured for the vast forest in front of them, a whole new world for them to explore. He doesn't want to do this alone anymore. He wants his friend with him.
"But the Templars…they'll kill us. Irving, he won't be able to do anything. I-I can't." Amell started backing away, panicking.
"They won't kill us. See? I'm living proof. Living." Anders outstretched his arms as if to show her that he's still there even though it was painfully obvious. Amell stared at the long scar that ran across his neck and up to his cheek. He's not dead, he's just hurt. She held a hand against her own neck, trying to imagine the pain he endured. She wasn't sure she could do the same.
"I'm not you." She whispered and Anders strained to hear her above the gentle wind. Mouthing the words "I'm sorry", Amell quickly ran off, never looking back.
Scribbling down any word that came to mind no matter how dramatic or cheesy it sounded, Amell furiously wrote dozens of letters. She soon ran out of paper to write on and hesitantly grabbed one of her study sheets, flipping it over to write some more.
"Dear my closest friend,
I apologize.
Love,
Lorelai."
"Amell?" His brow was creased with concern, sitting down next to his friend. "What are you still doing here? And where's Anders?" The look she gave him said it all. "You…and him? But you're here."
"I'm sorry…" Amell said softly.
"About what? You didn't do anything to me." Then it hit him. "You left him behind? I…suppose that's for the best. Or else you'd be down there with him. As much as Anders wanted you with him outside…I don't think he would've wanted you where he is right now." Jowan was never comfortable talking about the place Anders was at, that cell the Templars stuffed him in. Neither of them were. It was sort of an unspoken thing. They'd never discuss him until he came back. It was like he never existed in that period of time he was gone.
When Jowan made a move to leave Amell reached out for his arm, pulling him back down beside her on the bench. It was like a child asking for his mother to stay. "He asked me to stay but I couldn't. I'm scared Jowan. The Templars have done nothing to me but they've done everything to him. What does that make me…?"
A breath of relief escaped his lips and she gave him an odd look. It was the most she's said in a long while. "We all are. But you the most. And they haven't even touched you. It was about time you realized that."
"Realize I'm just a…coward." Amell muttered, shame written all over her features.
"I bet you that if I got dragged off by the Templars this exact moment, nobody in this library would do anything. Especially me, being the victim. I doubt I could do much to fight back." Jowan sighed. "We're all scared. We're all a bunch of cowards. There's nothing we can do about it. Might as well accept it I suppose…" He trailed off, realizing that a Templar nearby had been listening to their entire conversation. "Amell. We should go."
He touched her arm and she gathered up her papers, looking over to see what had scared Jowan so much. The only person that was worth mentioning was a Templar. The face familiar, she wondered where she saw him before until Jowan gently pulled her out of the library.
"Do you think he'll forgive me?" Jowan glanced down at her, the major height difference between them only securing his thought of her as a little sister, and sighed.
"It's Anders." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She wanted something more than that. A reassurance. A guarantee. But it was right in front of her the entire time. It was Anders. No matter how much suffering he's endured, no matter how many whippings he's withstood, no matter how many times she and Jowan left him alone in that cell, Anders always managed to come crawling back to their group.
His hand was always hers.
Her revelation was pushed to the back of her head when she saw the two bulky Templars stop in front of them. What could they possibly want?
"Mages. Knight Commander Greagoir asked us to escort you to his office."