There had been rumors coming in from the Free Marches for days about Kirkwall. Both Solona and Gwyneth had been getting harsh, judgemental stares every time they appeared in public, and it was starting to make Gwyn angry. Neither of them had done anything!
It had been over a week when Solona slid into Gwyn's quarters, finding her at her desk. Letters, papers, and matters of state spread over the oak, and the Chancellor herself scribbling away in response. "Gwyn. I've had a letter."
"Hmm?" She looked up from her papers, "A letter? From whom?"
"My cousin."
Gwyn swallowed. She did and didn't want to know what was inside. Her stomach filled with butterflies. "What does it say?"
"I think you should read it." Solona held out the parchment. With great reluctance and a building feeling of dread, Gwyn took it from her. The Champion didn't have the best handwriting, so it took her awhile to figure out what was written.
Dear Cousin,
Well, if the letters introducing myself and such weren't awkward enough, Sol, this one is going to top them all. I'm guessing by now rumors have been flying around Denerim about the Kirkwall Chantry and the Circle. No, I didn't turn into a dragon (not that I've never wanted to), bathe in the blood of the Grand Cleric, run naked through the Gallows, or use blood magic to coerce the Templars into an orgy. I am also not the one who destroyed the Chantry.
I may have mentioned in one of my other letters that one of my friends acquaintances was an ex-Grey Warden mage. What I didn't mention is that he was an abomination. A Spirit of Justice, or so he kept claiming it was. I believe he knew you and the Hero at Kinloch Hold.
Gwyn let out a horrified squeak. Anders. She had suspected Anders was the mage helping Fereldan refugees in Kirkwall, and had led all the Templars trying to find him astray. Now, she regretted that.
I don't know when it happened, or if there was even anything left of the man and not the supposed spirit even when we met. It was Vengeance, not Justice. He brought me into this, Sol. He lied to me, and told me he was making a potion to separate himself from the spirit, then used me to gather ingredients for the bomb that blew the Chantry to the Void. Grand Cleric Elthina was no great loss I'm not so torn up about the Grand Cleric, as she had ignored my pleas to do something about Knight-Commander Meredith for years-be glad you were sent to Kinloch Hold, cousin, events of the Blight notwithstanding- and just kept prattling about not being 'that powerful' and 'being neutral'. Neutral my Fereldan mage arse. If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.
The people of Kirkwall trusted me to protect them, though. In that I acted far too late. I should have told my companions that I was planning to go to Val Royeax to petition Divine Justinia to replace her and Meredith. Perhaps then- but it is too late to think of what might have been. I can guarantee that the man himself will not be able to do this again.
Setting the letter down, Gwyn looked at Solona, "This is my fault, too, isn't it?"
"No, Gwyn! Anders was his own man, and even had he not Joined as a Grey Warden, he was a master at finding trouble and escaping. It was only a matter of time."
"How can you say that? I helped him destroy his phylactery and led astray every Templar that came to Denerim looking for him."
"He was a Grey Warden, he wasn't under Chantry purview anymore anyway, and they knew that."
"But-"
"No, Gwyn. You've taken responsibility for plenty that wasn't your fault, don't take this on as well."
She picked up the letter once more.
He is dead. By my own hand, and it was awful. I had a bit of a breakdown, and I keep wondering why this one? I've taken plenty of lives, helping people and killing people is what I do best. I made sure the spirit in his body couldn't drag him anywhere else to do the same thing. That's good, right? Sol, cousin, if you talk to any other mages, please, please, tell them that he's not a martyr or a hero. He's a foolish, stupid man who didn't take the dangers of joining with a spirit seriously. You and the Hero of Ferelden are proof enough that mages can do more good outside the Circle than within, and I fear that a full-fledged rebellion will lead to the Right being invoked on innocent mages, as it was here.
Fenris and I are leaving Kirkwall, for safety's sake. I will send word when I can, but for your own safety, I will not tell you where we are or where we are going. My Uncle Gamlen is safe, his house was unaffected by the Chantry rubble, and our cousin Charade is safe as well. Carver, the stubborn git has decided to stay in Kirkwall to help what's left of the guard and the Order clean up. Please keep yourself safe, cousin mine. I do not have so many relatives left that I can spare one.
With love
Marian Hawke
Putting her head in her hands, Gwyn began to weep. Stupid, stupid Anders. She couldn't reconcile the man who had slain a Grand Cleric and injured or killed a large part of a city with the young man who had taken a frightened six year old elf girl under his wing when she arrived at Kinloch. Nor the abomination with the healer who would hold her in his lap and sing to her when she was ill, and feed her broth and tea until she was better.
Now he was dead, and the guilt for it would burden her forever.
