Title: Mystery Is The Basic Appeal
Author: miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Pairing: Fenris/Anders (Fenders), Bethany Hawke/Sebastian Vael, Carver Hawke/Nathaniel Howe, Cullen/Merrill
Comm: dragonage_kink
Rating: M
Prompt: AU where Templars are more numerous and the Chantry rules the land with an iron fist. But the Templars, as powerful as they are, cannot tell whether a man is a mage or not by simply looking at him. Enter Fenris, a man whose tattoos are so sensitive to magic that he can sense mages even if they never cast anything. He is sent to hunt and capture the dangerous and incredibly elusive apostate Anders, leader or the Mage Rebellion.
Mystery Is The Basic Appeal
The air was silent around them except for the rhythmic crunching of their horses' hooves through the thick snow.
No birds were in the trees, and no creatures of the forest made the branches rustle as they passed by. Snow slowly drifted down from the grey sky above them, muffling the world with white powder. Some would find the silence peaceful, enjoying the perfect stillness of the world, but for Fenris it was too still for his liking.
His companions did not seem to be bothered however. Up in the lead on his white charger, Cullen looked as relaxed as anyone in plate armour could look; helmet off and swaying comfortably with his steed's steady gait. In front of Fenris, Sebastian too had shucked his hood, flecks of snow settling in his brown hair as he guided his chestnut gelding after Cullen. His bow was settled firmly on his back, lightly strung but not in any state that Fenris would call 'battle ready', and although the young man was looking around at the trees, he didn't look like he was truly on the lookout for danger. Rather he was just taking in the view.
Fenris, taking up the rear on his dainty black mare, silently disapproved of his companions' lack of caution with every step their horses made through the snow. He kept his hood up, the black fur warming his head, and he had made sure that the sheath for his greatsword was well oiled for ease of drawing, but even so he found he could not relax.
He was not used to travelling so openly, or so slowly. If he had ever made his way by horseback before, he had made sure it was at a speed that few would get a close look at him if they did try to see his face. But now, with the Chantry's seal of approval in his pouch and in the company of a Templar and a hopeful Chantry Brother/Nobleman, here he was, travelling the road like a slow moving target.
Up ahead he could see the trees opening up, the forest thinning out onto the crest of the cliff. The three came to a stop near the edge, looking down at the plateau and the city that lay nestled there on the coast. To Fenris, who was used to the decaying white marble of Tevinter, the city below looked forbidding and stoic, all grey stone and hard lines. There seemed to be little beauty to it at all, which was surprising to someone who had been enslaved in a household that prized beauty.
"Kirkwall." Sebastian said quietly beside him. Fenris looked around at his friend, and saw the man was frowning slightly as he gazed upon the city below, "It has been many years since I have seen it."
"It's unlikely to have changed," Cullen grunted softly, unmoving as his horse pawed at the ground "Strange; it doesn't look like a stronghold for rebellion."
"I doubt the Mage Rebellion would so blatantly advertise themselves." Sebastian quietly rebuked the Templar, "And yet Her Holiness says this city is the centre for the cause. Mages hiding in plain sight and causing unrest."
"Why is this city so different?" Cullen asked, looking across at Sebastian curiously, "Why are these Mages so different?"
"They're organised." Sebastian informed him, fingers idly tracing the design on his saddle, "They have a leader, and they have a network. They are no rabble. They are building an army, and that makes them dangerous."
"Which is why we're here, right?" Cullen chuckled dryly as he backed his horse up and moved towards the path down, "Sounds like a holiday to me."
Sebastian trotted after him, and Fenris could hear his accented voice lift in a scolding tone as the two men disappeared down the path.
He made no move to follow them yet though, just watching the city quietly and thinking about what had to be done.
"That is why we're here." He murmured, gathering up his reins once more, before following his friends down the mountainside.
From the moment he entered, Fenris did not like the feel of the Kirkwall Chantry.
There was something oppressive about it, something about the heavy bronze statues, the velvet pennants of the Andrastian sun. Everything about it seemed heavy, heavy handed decorations and offerings and heavy stone walls and floors. Everything about it screamed opulence and reverence.
Walking behind Sebastian and Cullen, Fenris was free to glance around under the shadows of his hood, and he took in the Sisters tending the votives, the people crouched before the statues, whispering their desperate prayers. A young woman knelt before the centre pennant, her blonde head bowed and he heard quiet murmurings, snatches of the Chant and pleading. It made him uncomfortable and he looked away from her.
Eyes flicked to them as they entered, taking in the burning sword sigil on Cullen's armour, and the crest of Starkhaven on Sebastian's bow and quiver and also the likeness of Andraste's holy face on his belt buckle. Only the briefest of glances rested on the smaller figure following them, all dismissing him as inconsequential as soon as they recognised the elven build underneath the cloak.
Many knew that the Grand Cleric had sent to Orlais for reinforcements, for the expertise of the Witchunter. Tales abounded through Thedas of the Witchunter who was able to tell a Mage just by being in their presence, unlike Templars who needed the presence of an actual spell to detect a magic user. No one knew how he detected the magic, but everyone knew that his methods were infallible. The eyes that followed Cullen and Sebastian knew this.
This was how they wanted it to be.
Rumours would soon fly around the city, whispers of the Mage hunter in Kirkwall, and these people would tell about the entrance of the young Vael from Starkhaven, and his Andrastian armour and they would remember his Templar escort.
The Mages and their supporters would focus on these two, thinking one of them was the feared Witchunter that travelled Thedas catching all those who possessed a magical gift. They would ignore the elf that shadowed them, and the fear of the two human males would flush the Mages out of their holes when they were not around.
It was a tried and true strategy, one that the three of them had successfully employed many times throughout Nevarra and Orlais before a messenger caught up with them with orders from The Divine herself to resolve the rebellion in Kirkwall.
"The Grand Cleric will see you now." A woman with short dishwater blonde hair, dressed in the robes of the Kirkwall Chantry, stepped out of the shadows by one of the staircases leading upwards. Her grey eyes fell on Sebastian, dismissing Cullen and Fenris equally from her attention, "Prince Vael, follow me."
"'Prince Vael, follow me.'" Cullen mimicked in oily tones to Fenris and Sebastian, prompting the Prince to smile and cover it up with his hand, smoothing it from his face. Fenris' lips quirked only slightly, green eyes still tracking the Mother as she climbed the stairs. His attention was not on his companions, but the Chantry around them, alert for any troubles, "May I lick your shiny boots too M'lord?"
"My boots aren't shiny Cullen." Sebastian reminded him, as they brushed past the woman to enter the Grand Cleric's study, "We've been on the road for days. Your Grace..." And he knelt gracefully before the small grey haired woman standing beside the desk, "It is a great pleasure and honour to see you again."
"Sebastian..." the Grand Cleric smiled as Cullen and Fenris also bowed in obeisance, "Please all of you rise. Sit..." She sat behind her desk and nodded at the Mother still lingering at the door. "You may leave us Mother Petrice." The door shut quietly behind her and the Grand Cleric nodded, "Welcome to Kirkwall all of you. You must be Ser Cullen." She greeted the Templar, "And you must be Fenris...I am Grand Cleric Elthina."
"A pleasure to meet you Your Grace." Cullen performed the pleasantries while Fenris nodded politely, "We hope we will be able to help you during this difficult time."
"Straight to business I see," Elthina smiled at the young Templar and nodded, "Yes it is a difficult time. As I said in the missive to the Divine, the Mages here are organised. They have an efficient and effective underground which manages to smuggle powerful Mages out of the Circle before Knight Commander Meredith can neutralise them. She is at her wits end. As am I."
"Which is why we are here." Sebastian said giving Cullen a small smile, "To end this rebellion against the might of the Maker."
"Indeed." Elthina nodded, pushing across a parchment dossier, "This is the information we have on their leader. Meredith sent me it when I told her you would be arriving. She is...detained, trying to bolster security at the Tower."
Cullen picked up the file and opened it, feeling Fenris' green eyes observing both him and the Grand Cleric
"His name is Anders." Elthina said, leaning back in her leather lined chair, "It is not his real name, but it is definitely the name he goes by now. The Fereldan Circle noted that his aptitude was centred around Healing, but who knows. It is likely he has turned to Blood Magic in his wicked corruption. He escaped the Fereldan Circle and was claimed by the Hero of Fereldan to be a Grey Warden. It is uncertain whether he became one or she let him go..."
"What matters is that he is here now...and plotting to destroy this city, and all others with his cursed magic." The voice from behind them was new and Sebastian and Cullen turned around sharply with quickly indrawn breaths.
Fenris stayed where he was, eyes on the Grand Cleric, before he too slowly turned to look at the woman standing behind them.
She was handsome, with thick waving, platinum blond hair, and blue eyes of a piercing shade. Her armour was of fine make and bore the sigil of the Templar order.
"Knight Commander..." Elthina welcomed her with a warm smile, "I am glad that you were able to make it. I hope the situation at the Gallows has been..."
"It has been dealt with, thank you Grand Cleric." Meredith said, walking in to stand beside her on the other side of the desk from the three hunters. "Which one of you is the Witchunter?" She asked, bluntly, fixing them with an unnervingly direct stare, "I do not wish to play games or be deceived by them. The situation is far too grave for that."
There was silence for a brief moment and then Fenris spoke.
"I am."
The woman and elf stared at one another for long moments and then the Knight Commander nodded. "Good. I am grateful you are here. I believe this is far direr than anyone is yet aware of. Here...this is a sketch of Anders." And she passed him a parchment scroll bearing the likeness of a handsome man with a strong nose and jaw, a stubborn mouth and shoulder length scruffy hair. "The hair is fair, eyes are dark, and skin is pale."
Fenris considered the drawing before tucking it away in his belt pouch.
"Any known associates?"
"No, none." She sighed crossly, "Only Mages who are also underground."
"I see..."
"I'm afraid we have no more than that." Meredith braced her hands on the desk and her blue eyes met his green ones once more, "Now you know why we sent for you. He is dangerous, and clever, and very good at escaping capture. We need him caught."
Fenris gave a small humourless smile.
"That, is why I'm here."