"You've got to be kidding me."

First Enchanter Irving rubbed his eyes. "I wish I was, Anders, but… this is the best solution the Knight Commander and I could come up with."

Anders gripped the arms of the chair. His wrists were still raw from the manacles they'd dragged him back in. "Can't I just take the lashes and be done with it?"

"The punishment needs to fit the crime," Greagoir said. He was still in his armor, streaked with dirt and showing some rust in places from the rains that had drenched them on their trek back to Lake Calenhad. Northern Ferelden was particularly rainy this spring. "Every class you teach the apprentices on the issues of sexual education, you will recall the woman you were with and how your actions have consequences."

Anders smiled in spite of himself and earned a frown from the First Enchanter. "Anders, this is serious," Irving said. "Your behavior is most reckless, and the apprentices will learn well from your example. Your first class is tomorrow at noon."

"So soon?" Anders asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"I hardly have enough time to prepare," Anders said. "Can we say next week or so? Gives me time to get to the inn in Lothering. Cecile always has time to see me…"

He did earn a lashing for that one.

His back still smarted a bit when he entered a dim and dingy classroom late the next morning. He hadn't been permitted to self-heal, but one of the Tranquil, who specialized in medicinal herbs, had given him an ointment and wished him a pleasant day. Anders had almost snapped something nasty in return, involving the Tranquil's mother, but if he were completely honest, mocking the Tranquil just wasn't satisfying these days. They rarely reacted, and it just made him feel awkward.

But not as awkward as standing in front of a classroom full of squirming and blushing apprentices, most no older than twelve or thirteen. Their hushed mumbles filled the room like a beehive, and Anders briefly wondered if he could just sneak out. He'd seen other teachers do it before. When they thought no students were looking, they'd sidle out of the room and go talk to other mages in the halls.

Then two templars walked in and the mumbling stopped. They closed the doors with a solemn thud, and stood in front of the exit, arms crossed and faces covered by their full helmets.

They were probably laughing at him.

Bastards.

"Good… morning?" he said, and then remembered that it was noon. "Good afternoon. Or day. Whatever it is," he said. His cheeks burned and his ears buzzed. He was embarrassed, and he hadn't even said the "p" word yet. "My name is Anders and I'll be teaching you about… about…" He couldn't say it. He was infamous for his escapes and his trysts with willing women; many of them wouldn't even make him pay them if he promised to use his lightning trick. And now he couldn't tell a group of teenagers that he was going to teach about sex.

"I'm here to teach sex ed," he said at last. It came out a little too loudly, and the group of kids started to giggle. Even the templars seemed to be shaking with withheld laughter at the back of the room. "So why do we need sex ed," he started.

At first the room was silent. Then a tentative hand went up at the back of the room. He pointed at the kid, a gangly boy with floppy hair. "We don't?" he asked, and there was more giggling. "We're in here," he said. "The Circle. We're never going to have sex, so why do we need to be educated about it?"

"That… is an excellent question," Anders said. "Then again, many of us will never be Force mages, and yet we still are educated about that, right?" There were some nervous whispers. And at the mention of Force magic, the templars stood straighter. "Oh calm down," he snapped, without thinking of course. "I'm not going to learn Force magic or anything. The worst I've ever done is spend a night with a pretty girl. Or two," he added.

A dozen sets of wide eyes fixed on him. Some stares were scared; others were reverent. "So sex ed," he said again, loudly, realizing the power he held standing at the front of the room. For once he knew more than anyone here, and for once, people were listening to him. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted, right? "Perhaps we should start with the anatomy."

By the time the hour ended and the students filtered out, he was feeling quite pleased with himself. And later that evening in the refectory, as mages and apprentices sat around tables partaking of dinner, he heard more than one apprentice discussing practicing with his staff. And even later on, when he was called to Irving's office, he could only shrug. "Academic curiosity," he said with wide eyes, and an innocence he'd never possessed. Irving just sighed.

Noon the next day came around, and the room filled more quickly this time. There was excited murmuring, and more than a little blushing. And as the hour went by there was a fair amount of giggling as well. "And you want to be careful with your staff," he said, nodding sagely. "It's a conduit for a mage's power, and if you don't control it… well, we all know what happens when we lose control of the staff. Power everywhere. You don't want that," he said. The bell tolled the hour, and Anders smiled. "Tomorrow we discuss childbirth," he said. Any conversation died as his apprentices exited in silence.

"It's not working. He enjoys it too much!"

Anders sighed and leaned back in the chair. Bruce liked to take the fun out of everything. "They need to be taught," he said. "Greagoir even said the punishment must fit the crime."

"Comparing a developing child to a parasite?"

"It shares a host's body and feeds off of it. It fits the definition. Besides, I thought we were trying to scare these kids out of following my terrible example," he said. Again with the feigned innocence. But really, it was more fun than he'd thought. Biff and Bruce, the two templars who'd been assigned to guard his class, were particularly fun to watch squirm. They must not have had sex ed in templar training. Maybe they were learning more than they thought they would; maybe they were just jealous that Anders knew something they didn't.

"Can't we just take him to the dungeons?" Biff asked, throwing a baleful look at Anders.

"Then you won't get to come to class and learn about protection from diseases. You can't just smite The Itch. Well, you could, but it would probably hurt, and you might not be able to walk for a few hours…"

It was all Biff could do to keep from striking out at him, and Anders wondered if Biff had indeed tried to smite The Itch at one time. And the way Bruce tried to smother a giggle confirmed that he had. Anders suppressed his own wry grin. Even the templars had trouble when it came to these matters. In another world, another life, that would put them on an even playing field.

As the days passed Anders found himself fielding many curious questions from the wide-eyed apprentices. "Should I wear smallclothes under my robes?" one asked once, and Anders realized, from the way the kid squirmed, that he was trying out the style of freedom. "Only if you want to," he said. "Can make it easier when you need to use the loo," he added with a smile.

Another asked if he was in danger of being an abomination. "Why?" Anders asked, mystified.

The kid glanced nervously at the templars. "I have dreams," he whispered. "And my staff… the magic is out of control," he said in a low voice.

Anders nodded, holding his breath and suppressing the laughter within. "No, no… you're not going to become an abomination. Those are no demons, and that is quite normal for your age. I think all apprentices go through that."

"Oh! Thanks, Anders!" the kid said, and when he walked away, he was visibly relieved.

And it wasn't just the apprentices. The first time a templar approached him in the halls shortly after class, he was instantly on the defensive, but the man held up his hands in a sign of peace. "I hear you know things," he said, voice hollow behind his helmet. "What herbs would I use for…" his voice trailed off and Anders strained to hear as he whispered his symptoms.

A few days later he was called to Irving's office yet again.

"I'm keeping it less graphic," he said immediately as he sat down. "Mostly euphemisms, and scientific when I need to be."

Irving smiled, though Anders noted that Greagoir, standing behind the First Enchanter, was slightly less than amused. In fact he looked downright perplexed and borderline angry. "It's not that. You're doing a wonderful job with the apprentices. So much so that I would almost consider making this a regular part of the curriculum here. However, we have a different sort of issue."

"I received the monthly requisitions requests from the infirmary," Greagoir said, slamming the parchment down in front of Anders. "And it was so interesting, that I pulled the records of infirmary visits."

Anders looked at the supplies requested by the infirmary and didn't bother to stifle his laughter. "Let me guess. All templars."

Greagoir's beet red face and angry silence was all the confirmation he needed.

"Education is power," Anders said, and even Irving was having a tough time holding back his laughter.

"We're done here," Greagoir snapped. "No more classes. You're done."

Anders got up to leave. "You may also want to check the books down at the Spoiled Princess. Larana keeps pretty detailed records of the patrons. If you know what I mean."

"OUT!"

Anders paused at the door. "Let's just say the punishment should fit the crime and call it even."

He could hear Greagoir shouting all the way down the hall.