"Up against the wall, now!" Steely eyes glare through the slit in the helmet.

"You know, most people would at least buy me a drink first..." Anders' voice is cut off as gauntleted hands seize him and shove him bodily. The stone is cold against the side of his face.

"Put your hands on the wall and spread your legs."

Anders doesn't move."Ooh, I do like it when you talk dirty!" A low titter runs through the small group of watching apprentices. His grin falters a little when Ser Rylock steps closer, reaching up to grasp his hair and pull his head back.

"You will submit to search or you will go back to solitary. Do you understand?" Hissed through gritted teeth.

no I can't go back there alone dark demons whispering enticing then the others come and look leering and smite if I move and make me do things then it's dark again alone no please don't make me go back no no no

"Well, since you asked so nicely." The grin is back, forced now. He begins to assume the position.

"Stop!" The command makes everyone jump. Then a whisper close to his ear, "Just for that, you will also remove your robe."

The silence is complete as Anders' hands slide down the wall. Slowly he turns to face her, hands moving to the first buckle of his belts as his eyes lock with hers. The smile he offers now has all the warmth of a steel blade, and he maintains the gaze as the belts drop to the floor. The robe follows. When he is standing in his smallclothing, he raises one questioning eyebrow.

"So are you going to search me, or just ogle me all day?" In answer he is spun around again and this time his head hits the wall with enough force to split his lip. He watches blood drip to the floor, counting.

One.. Two... Three...

Steel hands run roughly over his skin raising goosebumps as they pass, touching places that nobody else ever touches, and she is speaking but he doesn't hear because he is in that place where nothing can touch him and he is safe.

Seven.. Eight..

Cold steel fingers cup his privates and he flinches before he can stop himself. Her voice, another titter from the gathered crowd.

Eleven.. Twelve..

A booted foot shoves the back of his leg and he stumbles to his knees. Leaning on one hand, he looks up and this time he is not smiling.

"You were lucky this time, mage." Never mind that she didn't find anything, that they never find anything. His robes are unceremoniously dumped on the ground and she looks down at him and spits. Armour clanks as she walks away.

Dim light from windows too high to see shows naked pity turning to studied blankness on the faces surrounding him. He's seen that look before - he's worn it before. It says we didn't see anything and it helps to dull the shame.

"I always was a sucker for a woman in uniform!" He calls after her retreating back. She ignores him. The grin returns.

Back in his clothing, Anders accepts the smiles and the pats on his shoulder even though they make him cringe inside because right now he is their hero and he needs this, needs to know that he is part of humanity, that he is really here and not alone in the dark.

He makes it all the way to his room before the tears come.