DragonAge: The Halla Awakened
Chapter 1
The young elven woman leaned over the battlements, watching as the red-haired dwarven warrior in the courtyard below bellowed out a combination of commands and insults to the sweating young men and woman of various races battling against the straw-filled and wooden shielded dummies. The wind blew her yellow-blonde hair from her face, revealing an angry looking scar that ran from the outer corner of her right eye and back toward one slender ear. The fine blue dress she wore fluttered in the wind as she brushed her hair from her eyes, and a noise behind her caught her attention. Still smiling, she turned and watched as the human mage stepped onto the roof and moved to join her side.
"Knew I'd find you here," Anders remarked as he stepped to Adela's side, turning his gaze from the scar on the pretty elf's face to stare down as Oghren ran the new recruits through maneuvers. "He's really good," the mage replied, glancing sidelong at the elf.
With a nod, Adela turned to her friend, "Oghren makes a wonderful Warden Commander," she said, glancing briefly at her dwarven friend below. "Much better at this soldier thing than I ever was."
Shaking his head, Anders offered, "Yeah, perhaps. But you are the better leader, Adela." Hazel gold eyes fixed once more upon the scar on the girl's face. Unable to help himself, the mage brushed a finger along its length, a frown on his face. "I really wish…"
"Stop," Adela commanded, raising a hand to take Anders' larger in her own. "No one foresaw the attack from the Crows. I'm far more upset that we lost Varel to the attack, and now Zevran is off, on his own, trying to 'fix this'. He'll just get himself killed, I'll never know, and he'll still be alone." Taking a deep breath, Adela released Anders' hand, which dropped to his side. She opened her mouth to speak further, and then shut it, turning once more to lean over the battlements.
"You really still planning to leave?" Anders asked softly, turning to lean beside her, his shoulder brushing up against hers. "I really don't think Oghren would let anything or anyone – be they king, soldier, assassin or Warden - hurt you."
"I know," Adela said in an equally soft voice, eyes never leaving Oghren as he slammed his great axe down to stalk over to a particularly clumsy elven swordsman. "But, he has so much on his plate now. Not only has he taken over my duties as commander and will shortly be assuming the duties of Steward of Amaranthine, but he does have his own wedding to attend in just under a month."
Chuckling, Anders shook his blond head. "I still cannot get over the fact that our dirty, smelly, belching dwarven berserker is going to marry the Queen of Orzammar…."
"They've a long history," Adela offered, recalling that Anders had not been with the group when they had met Serena Aeducan in the Deep Roads. "I'm just glad they finally admitted their feelings outright. Life is far too short to waste."
"Yeah, and him being named a Paragon didn't hurt his case among the Assembly."
"Having a hand in killing an archdemon and stopping a Blight carries a lot of weight amongst the dwarves," Adela agreed.
His eyes fixing upon an armored warrior that was stalking toward Oghren, Anders' smile turned into a deep frown. "Yeah, unlike others…" he muttered, anger seeping into his voice.
Blue eyes turning to watch the tall human as he was obviously arguing with Oghren, whose rough voice carried upwards to the pair, Adela had to agree. "He can't touch you," she remarked in a low voice, as though the human below could hear them. "You are a Grey Warden. The Templar Order can be damned whatever they may think…"
"I still can't believe that the Wardens…"
"Leave it be, Anders," Adela warned her friend, straightening and turning to the mage. "Try not to cause trouble, okay? We still have Justice to consider…."
"Yeah," Anders agreed, rubbing his long fingers along the inside of his palm. "I'm just as worried over our decaying friend as you are."
"If I could take him with me," the elven woman replied as she turned toward the door that led to the stairway into her home, "I would. I just don't see how I can hide a six foot tall, rotting, walking and talking corpse…"
Stopping, Anders watched as Adela approached the door before saying, "I'll think of something," the elf turned to look back at her friend as he stepped to her side, "I always find a way, don't I?"
Scoffing, Adela reached forward and opened the door, "Sure, Anders. But it's usually trouble you end up finding."
"Hey!" Anders' voice held a hint of mocking betrayal, "I thought you were my best friend!"
"A best friend always tells the truth, Anders," Adela was now fully smiling, and it lightened Anders' heart to see if. "And you, my friend, find ways of getting into trouble I only dreamed of."
DA:A
The desperate knocking upon her door quickly degenerated into frantic pounding. Gathering her robes, Adela stepped quickly around the various crates and cases that contained her personal items, all packed and ready for shipment in just three days' time. Frowning, she reached the knob, one hand clutching her mother's dagger, Fang, as she pulled the door open, stepping back at the sight that greeted her.
Anders, his warden-issued robes torn – cut - and bloodied, stood, wild-eyed and frantic. A flash of blue lightening danced across his brown eyes, causing Adela to step back once more as she surveyed her friend.
"Anders?" she found herself questioning as she reached out with her Fade-sensitive senses. It was Anders, but…more. "Anders," her voice stronger, no longer questioning as she moved to the side, "get in here." The order was direct and firm, and the Warden mage, so used to taking orders from the former Warden Commander of Ferelden, stepped passed the doorframe and into the interior of the elf's home.
"What happened?" Adela asked as she glanced outside before closing the sturdy door to the noble home she claimed as hers. Anders' breath seemed difficult for him to catch, and the elf reached out to grasp the human's arm. The mage staggered slightly before straightening, stepping through the foyer and into the main room, and then turned to fix his gaze upon the elf.
Adela paused as she took note of the steady gaze from the mage. Blue lightening still danced across his eyes, but there was something else to the way he watched her, the way he stood. Too familiar, but not for Anders…
Sudden painful realization hit the elf, and she found herself staggering both mentally and physically at the implications, if her concerns proved true.
"Justice?"
The steady gaze continued, but Anders' mouth contorted, alternating between opening and shutting, frowning and grimacing. Finally, a voice that sounded like Anders, yet formed words that followed Justice's speech pattern emerged, "'Tis I, Commander," the spirit confirmed, paused and the continued, "And also Anders."
Taking a breath, fighting against the sudden lightheadedness that blurred her vision, Adela stepped forward, grasping hold of the back to one chair as she approached. "I cannot believe…" she took a breath. "What in the world made you…" she stopped again, shaking her head. "What happened?" She finally demanded, deciding to listen to what had caused the pair to do something as reckless of join before she berated the pair.
"It needed to be done."
Adela frowned at the response, tilting her head slightly. Blue still flashed within the eyes as they continued to stare at her steadily in a very un-Anders like manner. "That's not an answer, Justice," she countered, crossing her arms before her chest, allowing her face to form a scowl.
"Rolan." Came the next incomplete response.
Rolan. Of course. Nodding, she uncrossed her arms, stepping around to stand before her friend – friends? – and stared up into Anders' calm, handsome face. Reaching up, she brushed a hand along the impassive features. "What happened?" she asked again, adding more strength and less command to the question. With a sigh, the blue lightning faded, revealing only the browns of Anders' eyes.
"He's dead," came Anders' response.
"I thought as much," she muttered, nodding again. Glancing back up, she took Anders' arm and led him from the antechamber and toward the kitchen. "You have to tell me what happened." This time is was a command, and Anders nodded.
DA:A
The decision had been made, quickly. Anders would be in far more danger if he remained in Amaranthine than Adela was in. She had sent her envoy to the docks to make certain her chambers aboard the ship had been secured, and even now her crates and cases were being loaded upon wagons and shipped to the city for boarding.
Glancing over at Anders, who sat at the kitchen table, dully eating at the breakfast Adela had prepared, she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her initial decision to run when she had received word that the Wardens were going to take her to Weisshaupt to determine how the taint had left her blood had been an easy one - Oghren had been a stalwart companion and friend, and made an excellent Commander. Nathaniel would act as his Second, and she knew that the Grey Wardens in Ferelden would flourish.
Back at home in Denerim, Theron and Shianni were expecting their first child, and Soris had disappeared, leaving the pair the only family she had left in the city. She had agents about, seeking information on where Soris had gone off to, but thus far, no word had returned regarding her cousin's fate.
And Alistair…well, she knew he would not be happy with her decision to leave and may well be angry he had been kept in the dark about her decision. He still visited and sent her letters, all hopeful she would someday forgive him and return to his side. The elf knew better. The months they had been apart had eased whatever hurt she had felt, and forgiveness had been a fairly easy and simple thing for her to offer to the human.
But with that time, she had learned that she could not return to him. Not due to any racial differences. And certainly not because she no longer loved him. She did. Almost as much as she had when she had married him. She just…knew…that their time together was over. She would move on.
And Alistair would as well, once she was gone. He had to.
So now she had to get Anders out of Amaranthine, to somewhere no one would ever think to look for him. And, fortunately, the city-state of Kirkwall, where she had already planned to make her first stop in her journey away from Denerim, would be the perfect hiding place for the mage.
At least that was her hope.
With another sigh, Adela turned back to her friend, who was now watching her, concern filling his eyes as he took in her haggard appearance. She looked tired, and he knew well that it was entirely his fault this time. Not that she had been looking particularly well these past few weeks. He knew, as did all within her tight knit circle of friends who served with her in Amaranthine, that the Wardens planned to take her, by force if necessary. That Warden Stroud saw fit to let those plans be known, only the senior Warden would answer why he had done so before he left Amaranthine.
Perhaps he was just a good guy. Or perhaps, he disagreed with the decision to take the girl against her will.
Either way, the most they knew was that Riordan had managed to get a missive to the stronghold of the Grey Wardens in the Anderfels, that Adela had somehow cured herself of the taint. Stroud had been sent as a vanguard, to test Adela and see if the information had proven true. His initial orders were to take the elf should they prove true; however the Warden found himself needing to leave on another, more urgent matter. Before leaving, he had subtly warned Nathaniel that others would arrive, and they would not care who got in the way. Adela was important; the information on how she managed to cure the incurable was of vast importance; and the Warden knew they would stop at nothing to garner that information. Stroud had left during the night, and Nathaniel had gone directly to his Commander and friend to warn her, and urge her to leave.
It was Nathaniel's suggestion she go to Kirkwall. The young Howe had spent a great deal of his life in the Free Marches, and he knew Kirkwall well enough to recommend it to be the first stopping point in her journey. He had gotten a missive to one of his contacts in the Dwarven Merchants Guild, and from there, they learned that Bodhan and his son now resided in Kirkwall. A happy coincidence they were more than eager to take advantage of. With the merchant's help, Adela was able to secure a home for herself as well as passage and entry into the city itself. The merchant had been careful not to reveal that it was the Hero of Ferelden that made her way to the city, but rather the daughter of a highly successful and influential elven artist.
A small smile formed on Anders' face, and Adela visibly relaxed. The mage took note and continued to eat his breakfast, watching as more tension seemed to ease from the elf. He was very grateful Adela had such friends as Nathaniel and Bodhan. He was grateful for such a friend as Adela.
He was nervous about the journey, concerned about how an elf and a human mage could live in Kirkwall, but he trusted Adela. Knew that this was the only course they could take.
And Justice, lurking in the back of his mind, still as keen to please and obey his Commander, seemed to understand the importance of what they did now. Strangely, the spirit seemed almost eager to get to the City of Chains.
There was a knock at the front door and, with a glance at her friend, Adela left the kitchen to see to it. Anders straightened, neglecting his food as he strained his ears to try and listen in on the low conversation at the front door. He all but held his breath as Adela entered the kitchen, a tall human male behind her. He instantly recognized the weathered features and sun-bleached hair of Constable Aidan. The constable glanced at the mage and then back to Adela, who was pulling a brown cloak from a peg. "Anders," she said, "gather your cloak. It's time to go."