I've been having an internal debate about whether to continue this story using Bioware canon, or through the device known as AU. I believe I will go with the latter, though this installment will allow me to change that decision in a jiff later on if I need to. ;)

[insert standard disclaimer here]


The Comfort of You

It had been some time since Elirezara had the time to devote to some personal shopping in the markets in Amaranthine. Normally she was there on business…and to be honest, even those times she didn't really do the shopping for herself. It was usually one of the Seneschal's assistants from the Keep who was sent along with her to take care of the mundane purchasing. Which was nice…when it was simply for items needed for the Keep. But it sure did prevent her from being able to lollygag and peruse the wares on her own, hence never having a chance to do a little personal shopping.

It wasn't as if she really needed anything. It was merely the…experience that shopping for herself provided. When she lived in the Circle, she was denied having even the most basic experiences. Her time during the blight…and now the Wardens…most of her life was spent with others taking care of her until then. And at that point…well, it wasn't as though spending and social events were top of the list.

But now…

The blight was over.

She had put things to rest where she and Alistair were concerned.

And things with Anders…well…

They were…good. Really good.

She leaned against the wall of the large stronghold wall that surrounded the stalls of the market and glanced over at where her companions for the day stood. By the Maker, Anders looked…striking that day. The Wardens didn't often wear full dress armour, but Elirezara thought it was important for them to be identifiable when they were out in their arling. It also prompted them – well, most of them – to be on their best behaviour when in public. One of the reasons that Velanna and Oghren were often sent to complete tasks other than amongst the nobility of Amaranthine.

But oh yes…Anders in his full Grey Warden armour made her weak. The sight of him caused her mouth to go dry. As of late, he'd begun to wear his hair differently as well – instead of pulling it all up, only some was pulled back into a lazy tie, leaving much of it to hang about his neck. It made him look…scruffy…dishevelled…demon-may-care even. Whatever it was, she liked it. She may not have completely felt comfortable with the strange way it made her feel inside – this rogue persona that seemed to develop so strongly as of late – but still, a warmth welled up inside of her whenever he was around. Which was far more often than not. She couldn't get over how she felt as if she were falling in love with him for the first time…all the time. She'd never known anyone to have the luxury of being 'in love' so fully and completely. It was a tremendous feeling…overwhelming. One that made her second guess her duties as Commander of the Grey. She wondered if she'd be able to make the hard decisions that would likely come her way where Anders was concerned. Could she send him on a mission that may mean his death? Could she make the right decision should she be faced with the fate of his life versus the life of another?

Then I am thankful such a choice has not been forced upon me yet…

She shuddered at the thought of his death. It was a very real possibility, even without the blight. It wasn't as though they hadn't encountered the talking darkspawn, led by the awakened being – the so-called Architect. Or his antithesis - the Mother – and her…ghastly 'children'. Or dragons. Or just a sneaky bastard of a bandit along the road. Not to mention the templars. She shuddered again.

No, death for Anders…death for any of them…was real. It was most evident in the man who now stood next to Anders, deep in conversation with the mage. The man who was once a Warden…but was now simply a deceased body inhabited by a spirit.

As if that could ever be seen as simple.

Known as Justice, a reflection of the virtue his spirit most identified with, he had become strangely aligned with Anders. No one was certain what his attraction to the mage was – perhaps he was drawn to the fact that he often carried copious amounts of lyrium around with him. The spirit was of the Fade after all…but no, it could not be that. For if so, Elirezara would have caught his attention as well. No, there was something else. Some other reason Justice had become almost infatuated with him…she just could not put her finger on it.

As she watched the two, just outside of listening distance, she could see that whatever the two discussed, Justice was immensely intrigued by what Anders explained to him. They stood in front of a stall – it appeared to be that of Octham, so they were possibly discussing runes or the like. Once or twice, she thought that one or the other of them had looked back at her, but she couldn't be sure. She turned to see what the nearest stall to where she stood was. Ah yes…Master Henley…I could use some new concoctions anyway…


"She is looking at you again," Justice stated.

"Who?"

"The Commander," he replied. "I suspect you did know who I was referring to, Anders."

"Uh, yes," the mage said quietly.

"Then why do you act as though you had no idea?" he questioned.

Anders shrugged. "It's…a thing I do, I suppose."

"What kind of thing?" Justice asked.

"Playing coy? I don't know. I like to be mysterious."

"But this makes no sense to me. Especially as you immediately owned up to your deception," the spirit said, confused at his companion's wiles.

"We mortals are a perplexing bunch, Justice."

"That you are," he replied immediately. "I have spent no less than a third of your years with you, and I still have very little understanding of your quirks."

"Yes, but you have learned some things from us, have you not?" Anders asked.

"I have," he confirmed, "but there are nuances that I fear I will never understand."

"I don't think you were meant to understand them, Justice," he said, closely examining a pair of gloves that hummed with elemental energies. "So, what have you learned?"

"I have learned that many of you have no concept of justice. You feel as though it is suitable to behave in manners that do not befit my gift," he replied.

Anders sighed and placed the gloves back on the stall's shelf. "Is it just for a man's family to go hungry because without employ, his only option is to steal a loaf of bread from a merchant who smuggles goods in through a guild that uses thieves to procure those items in the first place?"

Justice pondered the question for a moment. "Your world is not so black and white."

"A lesson that I'm glad you've learned early, spirit," the mage replied. "There are some injustices in the world that are not so easy to expose. And then there are those that you'd hope the world would embrace the fight against, for they are so obvious."

"You refer to your mages," Justice replied.

"I do not refer to anything," he said quickly. "I'm merely pointing out—"

"You need not deny it, Anders. It is a noble concern. Your mages have not been treated in a just manner. You would do well to see their standing raised. Especially as you are free now."

"I'm not exactly free. Or do you not recall that the templars sent another contingent to greet us when we entered the city in recent weeks?" Anders furrowed his brow as he thought back to the night they were attacked. "I worry now that not only would I be endangering myself should I attempt to fight back, but Velanna as well…and…"

"You should not fear for the Commander as you do," Justice replied, sensing his distress. "She is a formidable warrior."

"She is still a mage, Justice. The templars still know how to fight back against her. Against all of us."

Justice paused, considering the perceived safety the status of Grey Warden provided her…provided all mages in their Order. "Does the Order not offer safe harbour? Are you yet under their jurisdiction? I think not."

"Well, I'm glad you think so. I'd feel much better if the templars…Maker, if the whole bloody Chantry was torn apart," he replied, his voice slightly raised.

Octham, the shop owner, shifted nervously across the stall from them. Such talk was not usually welcomed in Ferelden…in most places in Thedas. He cleared his throat, throwing a knowing glance in Anders' direction. The man would never have reported him to anyone – regardless of whether or not he was a Warden. Maker's breath, he sold staves and magically imbued items in his stall all the time – he was one of the few, at least in Amaranthine, that welcomed a mage or two his way.

Anders nodded in the man's direction, his eyes issuing an apology that his words could not, and he held up the enchanted gloves he'd been examining earlier.

"Ah, my oven mitts," Octham said. "A very good choice Ser Warden. They will prevent you from burning yourself over a campfire. Or…some more personally started fires, I suppose."

"How much?" Anders asked.

"For you lot, I'll drop the price to one hundred twenty five," the man whispered hoarsely.

"Sovereigns?" Anders exclaimed. "And that's dropping the price?"

"They're not easy to come by," Octham explained.

"I dare say they best not be," muttered Anders, counting through his coin pouch. He sighed loudly. "I'm afraid I'll have to wait on—"

"Here you are, my good man," came a cheerful voice from behind him. Anders saw a small arm reach out towards Octham, dropping the necessary coin into his hand.

"A fine day to you, Commander of the Grey," the man said with a merchant's smile. "Always pleased to have the business of the Wardens here in Amaranthine."

"Eli," Anders said, turning to face her. "You…you don't need to…"

"Oh, just hush," she said. "Consider it…a 'you're fighting at my side and we need every advantage we can use' sort of gift."

He groaned. "I still don't think," he began to protest, before he felt her finger at his lips, stopping him mid-sentence.

"I will hear nothing further of this," she said. "Lest I be forced to use…something else to silence you."

A furtive smile crept on to his lips. She spun around and headed south towards the main gates of the city.

"I will never understand the Commander and her actions," Justice said, interrupting his thoughts.

Anders shook his head with a smile. "Neither will I, Justice. Neither will I."


Whenever the Grey Wardens of Vigil's Keep required accommodations in Amaranthine, they inevitably ended up back at The Crown and Lion. Often, Nathaniel's sister Delilah offered her own home up, however during this visit, there were four Wardens to house, and it was less of a burden on her own family if they simply visited and did not overwhelm her as overnight guests.

The innkeeper was always pleased to see the Wardens. They had helped his business out immensely when they rid him of the smugglers who had all but held the tavern hostage. Elirezara was instrumental in pinning the whole affair down to the bartender – who had been unceremoniously 'released' from the tavern's employ after being exposed. Whenever they visited, they received good treatment…even a few free ales here and there. At least when Oghren wasn't around, anyhow.

And he wasn't there that night, so the ale flowed quite freely for the Wardens.

Nathaniel had just returned from visiting with his sister for the day and was happy to catch a late dinner with Anders. Elirezara had decided to quickly clean up prior to heading down for dinner and the sharing of drink and story. As she was about to head down towards the tavern portion of the inn, she heard a soft knock at the door.

She peeked out to see Justice standing there.

"Commander."

"Can I help you with something, Justice?"

"I had hoped we could speak for a moment," he replied.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "Please…come in."

He entered and refused to sit when she offered him a chair.

"I have no need of resting," he told her.

"Ah," she said, "then please excuse me if I sit."

He nodded.

She leaned back into her chair, resting her head in her hand. "So, what is it you'd like to speak to me about?"

"I am interested in Anders," he replied.

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, I saw him first, so I have first dibs," she said with a slight giggle.

"I do not understand."

"Never mind. It was a joke anyhow. So…interested in Anders? How do you mean?"

"I would like to know more about him," he replied. His face scrunched up. "Is there another way?"

"To be interested in a person?" she asked, and he nodded. "Well, yes. But that is neither here nor there. You are interested in…his past? His time at the Circle perhaps?"

"Yes," he replied. "You knew him when he resided at the Tower, did you not?"

"That is correct," she said. "We grew up from the time I was…well, perhaps I was twelve when I first met him?"

"How was he treated there? He has told me of the injustice that mages face every day. Yet he has never shared with me the details of what happened to him there."

She breathed in deeply. "I'm…not certain that is for me to share with you, Justice. It is a difficult time for him to relive. As it was difficult for me to witness."

"Why didn't you do anything to help him?" Justice asked, seemingly angered by what he perceived to be her apathy.

"Do not ever tell me that I did nothing to help him," she warned him. "I stood by his side. I risked myself at times to arrange that items be smuggled to his cell as he was held in the Circle's dungeons. I convened with templars sympathetic to his plight…I…I'm not proud of some of the methods I used to ensure that he would make it out of those cells again…with his sanity. What has he told you?"

"He has not told me anything."

She sat in silence; biting her lip…fighting back memories that she never wanted to bring to the surface again.

"I am…sorry," he offered. "It was not my intention to offend."

"It is…fine. I often forget that you are not…that you are a spirit," she confessed.

"Do you believe I do not understand your actions?" he asked.

"I believe that you have a slightly more difficult time understanding one's actions if they do not fit within your definitions of a black and white world," she said.

"I believe Anders would disagree with your statement," he replied. "He helped me reach the conclusion that I cannot fit everything the black and white world paradigm that I once held."

She examined the expression that fell upon his face. "Do I detect a glimmer of pride somewhere in there?"

"I am not proud. I am just."

"Do you not feel anger at times?" she asked.

"Yes. I do," he replied.

"Then do not worry when you display pride as well," she said. "You will not allow it to overwhelm you, and therefore it will not be perverse."

He considered her words for a moment. "I suppose…that you are correct. I have never had to deal with this world…or with my…feelings within such a world. Feelings mean nothing in the Fade. I don't recall ever feeling anything but what I was there. Here…it is…different. The memories of this place…are interfering with…"

"Memories? You've been here before then?" she asked.

"Not me. Kristoff. He spent time here, if you'll recall. I believe that's how you tracked him to the Blackmarsh," he said.

"Ah, of course," she said.

"I still need to ask," Justice asked. "How should I go about asking Anders for the truth of his life?"

"Just be honest with him, Justice. Be sincere, and the truth will come out," she replied. "Though, perhaps you should wait until we return to the Keep."

"I appreciate your help, Commander," he replied.

"You know, you may call me Elirezara. Please. I prefer less formality," she suggested.

"Of course…Elirezara. May I walk with you downstairs?"

She nodded and smiled at him.


Several hours of revelry passed between the three Wardens – Justice did not join in as such, but seemed to enjoy the fact that he could observe the others in a more jovial state than normal nonetheless. He watched quietly the way the three interacted with each other and with others in the room. It seemed to him that Kristoff must have had similar times like these, for he felt warmth in the cold body he inhabited while he witnessed the scene. It was something he did not often feel through the memories of his host.

Perhaps unsure of how to respond to what he was seeing – and feeling - Justice stood up abruptly. "I believe you have all imbibed more of this beverage than you are capable of maintaining control over. Is it not time for you to return to your rooms for the night? To sleep the effects of this substance off?"

"Justice, sit down," slurred Anders. "The whole point of drinking is to lose control."

"This makes no sense, Anders," he retorted. "You should always maintain control. Especially you. It is no wonder the templars find you dangerous when you have no mastery over yourself."

Elirezara snorted, having drunk her share of ale that night as well. "Relax, spirit. We are safe here. The innkeeper will always see to it that we are protected while we stay."

"It does not matter," Justice growled back. "There is no room for this lack of control in our battle against the darkspawn."

Nathaniel sighed. "I finally start to have a good time with the mage, and the spirit decides to extinguish it. Come on Justice. Let's go upstairs if you're tired."

"But I do not sleep," he protested as Nathaniel began to lead him up the stairs. "I am concerned about the wellbeing of the rest of you."

"They'll be up soon enough. You can sit at the door and wait," the archer replied.

"I will stand," Justice insisted.

Nathaniel's sigh was loud enough for the remaining two Wardens to hear and begin to giggle uncontrollably over. Elirezara rarely put herself into a situation where she had little control over her senses this way, but she felt safe enough to do so. Especially in the company of her companions…her friends… Her head felt light and airy. She could see things happening almost in slow motion. It was no wonder Oghren drank as much as he did – this feeling was incredible. She stood up and nearly fell backward as her head swam, but managed to regain her footing and balance. Clasping a mug half full of ale in her hand, she raised it to the skies.

"Everyone! Hey! Everyone in here!" she exclaimed. "I seem to have drunk a lot of ale tonight!"

The small drunken crowd cheered in response before she continued. She looked down at Anders who was absolutely as drunk as she was. His eyes glazed over as he looked up to her with a lazy smile upon his face.

"I…I want to buy a round for everyone in here," she cried out. She looked over to the bartender who, though shocked, began pouring enough drinks for the entire crowd. A serving girl hurried up to the bar to collect them in order to begin their distribution.

Between the cheers and the thanks and the shouts of "To the Grey Wardens!" followed by clinks of mugs clanging together, the smile of the Warden Commander spread across the entirety of her face. Anders smiled up at her and stood up quickly. As if by some miracle he gained enough balance to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder and begin to carry her up the stairs towards their room. A couple of the patrons whistled and Elirezara giggled uncontrollably…again.

As they made their way past Justice, who was not exactly providing them with an approving look upon his face, Anders stumbled a little. Elirezara's head bumped roughly into the doorframe of their room, sending her into yet another fit of laughter. He lost his grip on her and she landed on the ground with a thud. A shout came from Nathaniel in the adjacent room – though no one knew what he said, and he didn't repeat it.

Anders turned to face Justice as he grabbed the door to close it behind him. "Don't you dare…listen," he slurred. He pointed at the spirit as he stood guard over the two rooms. "If I find out that you've been listening…I'll…"

"You are drunk, Anders," Justice stated without emotion. "You will not remember any of this."

"Ha!" he replied, then started to chuckle. After a few moments, he forgot what he was laughing about and closed the door. He turned to see Eli had made her way up to the bed. She was sitting on the edge, staring ahead. Though, staring was a term to be used loosely. It was more like an attempt to focus on…anything that was in her line of sight. He leaned against the door in an attempt to draw her eyes towards him. When she didn't seem to see him, he stumbled towards the bed and landed next to her – which finally prompted her to see he wanted her attention.

"Why does my head hurt?" she laughed, rubbing her head where it had connected with the doorframe moments before.

"I don't know," he replied. "Here, let me fix it for you." He leaned towards her and kissed her – somewhat awkwardly – where she was rubbing her head. Luckily for her, he also placed his hand on her head and inadvertently sent out a small amount of healing magic. It was just enough to dull the throbbing.

She smiled up at him. He leaned in towards her and she felt his lips brush against her neck. Considering his level of sobriety, the kiss he planted upon her neck was surprisingly gentle. As he lifted his mouth up to her ear, he whispered into it.

"I lub you."

"Anders…did you just say you lub me?"

"Of course I lub you," he said.

She began to protest that he didn't seem to understand what she was getting at, but his lips crashed into hers, interrupting any and all cares of the explanation. His hands began to wander, touching her face, her neck…running through her hair.

"We should be quiet," she whispered breathlessly in the moments she pulled away from him.

He pulled her close and kissed her along her jawline. "Why? You bought everyone in the bar a drink. I don't think they care."

"No no," she replied. "Because of Justice…"

"Ah, he'll be fine," Anders said.

"He was asking about you earlier," she said.

"What did he want to know?" he asked, not exactly caring what the answer would be. He moved his mouth towards her shoulder, pulling the cloth of her tunic away it.

"He asked about…the Circle."

He stopped. Pulled back from her. His face had changed completely.

"Oh…Anders. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have…" she began. They both sobered almost immediately.

"What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him anything. Well, I told him to ask you. That it wasn't my place," she explained.

"I see," he replied.

"He wants to better understand what you went through…what we mages go through in our lives in the Circle," she said.

He sat back on the bed, resting on his arms. "I…I don't know if I want to relive all that. I don't know if I can…"

She put her hand on his knee. "You don't have to. Justice doesn't have to know everything. But…should you choose to…you know I'll be right there with you."

He shook his head. "No, Eli. You don't need to go through that again either. And Justice should know. He is one of the first people…well…you know…who has taken an interest in our side of the story. If someone wants to know…I should tell them. Don't you think?"

"I suppose so. He could be an important ally," she said.

"An ally? You expect me to fight?" he asked.

"You…you weren't planning on it?"

"No! Absolutely not," he replied. "I know my boundaries. I know my limits. Escaping from the Circle is one thing…but fighting them? I'm not stupid, Eli."

"I know," she said. "It just seemed like…the next natural step, I suppose."

"Eli, I'm a Warden now. Our fight is not with the Circle. Or the Chantry. It's with the darkspawn," he reminded her. "If we spread ourselves too thin, we'll lose the battle there."

She smiled at him. "I'm…impressed by your wisdom."

"Hey…I'm not dumb," he said quietly.

"I know you're not," she replied. "Your maturity surprises me sometimes though. Pleasantly, of course."

He smiled weakly at her. "I've grown up a lot since the Circle, Eli. I blame you for that." She saw a glint in his eye.

"You're welcome."

He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. "I never did thank you properly for that."

"For what? Helping you grow up?" She scrunched up her face.

"For…everything."

"You're crazy…you know that, right?" she said. "You have thanked me…repeatedly…for everything I've ever done for you. Repeatedly."

He looked down.

"Anders…are you blushing?"

"Maybe," he said, looking back up at her. "Look, I know that perhaps this night was headed in a certain direction when we first got up here…"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes?"

"But, I…there's only one thing I can think of right now. Since you brought up the Circle," he replied.

"Oh…" she groaned.

"No…no, it's not what you think," he said. He kneeled on the bed and pulled her back. "Here…lay down. On your side."

She said nothing, but complied. He got up, extinguished the candles in the room save for one on the bed table nearest her. When he returned to the bed, he slid in behind her and pulled up the covers. He wrapped his arm around her waist and his head found its way to her shoulder.

"I miss this," he said. "It's the one good memory I have from the Circle."

She smiled into the glow of the candlelight. Since Anders moved into the room with her at the Keep, they'd shared many intimate moments together. But for some reason, none of them included this. They'd neglected the emotional protection that this comforting embrace provided them both.

"I miss it too," she said quietly. She attempted to turn to face him. "That's not to say that I don't enjoy…you know…everything else."

He squeezed her. "I know. But sometimes I need this more."

He kissed her ear softly, and held her until sleep overtook them both.


When Anders woke the next day, Elirezara was still asleep in his arms. He slid away from her and out of bed, careful not to wake her. The candle had gone out by that time, but he could see the sun's rays peeking in under the heavy curtains in the room. He quietly crept to the door and opened it.

Justice still stood outside.

He closed the door behind him and approached the spirit.

"Good morning, Justice."

"Anders," he replied, nodding. "I trust you are feeling appropriate for the amount of ale you drank last night."

He chuckled. "Surprisingly, I'm not feeling as poorly as one would expect. Can I have a moment?"

"Of course."

Anders led him towards a table that overlooked the tavern and invited him to sit.

"I can stand," Justice replied.

"I'd prefer if you sat," he said.

Justice sat without a further word.

"Elirezara told me that you were asking about me," Anders said.

The expression on Justice's face changed slightly – as though he were caught with his hand where it shouldn't be.

"I…yes, I did," he replied.

"You wished to know more about my life in the Circle," he said.

"I feel it is important to aid in my understanding of your plight," Justice offered.

"Yes," Anders replied. "It is. And so I will tell you." He looked around, ensuring that no one else was in listening range…and then took a deep breath.

He began with the day he was ripped from his family's grip. Talked about the times he attempted to escape…foolishly. Unprepared for what was to follow. And of the times he was caught. His treatment upon return to the Circle. The wards. The beatings. The hours upon days upon weeks upon months that he was left alone…praying to a Maker that would not listen.

Then he spoke of hope. The hope that Eli offered to him when he returned from the cells beneath the Tower. The compassion she showed. The caring and concern. And the comfort that she represented. He told Justice of how they'd lost each other…when she was taken from the Tower as a Grey Warden. And how the Tower collapsed into chaos and ruin. When they found each other once more at Vigil's Keep.

He told Justice everything.

When he stopped speaking, Justice sat for some time in silence. Neither man looked at the other.

"You have…lived through some horrible experiences, Anders," he said. "I had no idea what to expect from your more topical discussions of the Circle."

"They are painful memories," he replied. "But it's important that the story is told when someone wishes to hear it."

"I agree," Justice said. "I can also now understand the deep connection you have with the Commander. It explains the looks that I see her give you. There is obvious worry that underlies every expression she gives you. But there is more than just that. I do not understand love. But I think that must be what it is that I see."

Anders nodded, a small smile falling upon his face.

"Is it easier to recognize love when you have gone through so much pain?" Justice asked.

"I…I'm not sure," he replied. "I guess love is something that even humans and elves and dwarves…and others…who have been around it…or exposed to the possibility of it for their whole lives…even they don't fully grasp or understand what love is."

"I have much to learn of love," the spirit admitted.

"So do we all," Anders agreed. "So do we all…"