Chapter Two
I glance at my brother over my third tankard of ale and he is still scowling at me. He has been scowling at me since I walked in here four hours ago and I am tired of it. I have a sip of my drink and I slam the tankard on the table, making Varric and Carver jump in their seats. This only aggravates my brother more. He is nearly purple in the face from trying to keep his temper in control and he has a temper that is enough to send rats scurrying away.
"Is something bothering you, Carver?" I say quietly.
"Yes..." he replies, barely keeping the bite out of his voice. It is enough to make me flinch, but I will not be intimidated by him. He intimidated my sister into submission and I will not allow him to do the same to me, although he has tried...and failed on more than one occasion... Yes he is extremely hot-headed, but his anger is nothing compared to the anger he brings out in me. I barely manage to keep myself under control during this time and it is not easy because it is so easy for me to use my gift of magic to defend myself, but my Father always taught me not to allow it to get the best of me. He said I must get the best of it. He told me on numerous occasions that magic must serve that which is best in me, not that which is most base. If only he knew what I had done. He would probably turn in his grave. He also taught me about the dangers of blood magic, not that his lessons meant anything to me in the days after he died after suffering some illness that not even I could heal. I lower my eyes from Carver's ice blue ones and I look at my hands that have twisted themselves together and a lone tear slides down my cheek. He has no idea what I live with. He has no idea the nightmares I have of demons and abominations. My Mother suspects I have nightmares, but she is too wrapped up in her own grief to even care about me. The only person who is aware of my nightmares is Aveline. She spent many nights when I slept at the Barracks, soothing me and looking after me as only a close friend can. She is the only one who knows about the dark place that haunts me in my sleep.
"Then what is?" I murmur.
He has another sip of his drink. "Did you bed him?"
I gape at him. I can't believe what I have just heard. How dare he insinuate when he is the one who eagerly beds anyone who is willing.
"How dare you make an accusation such as that, Carver," I snap.
"Ah...You did, didn't you? Tell me, what was it like screwing a mage?" he quietly asks. I hear a sharp intake of breath and I glance around my table only to realise it is me. Varric has lost his smile and all humour has disappeared from his eyes. I stand and straighten my shoulders.
"It has nothing to do with you what I did or didn't do, Carver. You do not own me and don't think for one minute, you have got the better of me, because you haven't," I snap. I am ready to shoot fire and ice at him. My mana is already stirring as is my blood. I close my eyes in an effort to calm down, but all I see is a bloody haze punctuated by a white light.
"So you did? I knew it... I knew it from the moment we walked into that place he calls a Clinic, that you would bed him," he snaps and I nearly lose it. I open my eyes and for some reason, I glance at the door. He is leaning against the door watching us...His eyes are firmly trained on me and I feel a pull. I throw back the rest of my drink, glare at Carver and I walk away. I have hardly neared the door, when Anders reaches for my hand and he pulls me out into the fast fading light of day. He leads me to a corner behind the tavern and he backs me up against the wall.
"Anders?" I murmur.
"I have done nothing except think about you since you left my clinic this afternoon," he whispers. He slips his arms around my waist and lifts me slightly. I waste no time in kissing him. He presses himself into me and his warmth and security causes my tension to fade away. I nibble his lip, his chin, his jaw before I lock lips with him again and he groans.
"Maker, I want you," I blurt out and I bite my lip as soon as the words have left my mouth. I can't believe what I have just said. He grins down at me before he kisses me. He hoists me higher up and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. I feel his erection straining against his pants. He rains kisses along my jawline, my cheeks, and my neck where he nibbles and suckles. I have been marked by him that is certain and I don't mind. If I had my way I would mark him in much the same way, but that would mean a lifetime bond. A joining of two mage souls. The idea sounds most appealing, but I push it to the back of my mind and I seek out his mouth. I delve into him and our tongues dance wildly, but through the sounds of pleasure we are making, I hear the all too familiar heavy footfalls of my brother. I turn away from Anders and press my palms against the flat of his chest.
"Mari?" he murmurs.
"Put me down..." I urgently murmur. He frowns, but he sets me gently back onto my feet. I expect to collapse, but thankfully I don't. I walk past him, but he slips his arms around my waist. I stop and wait for the barrage of words Carver is going to throw at me. He is glowering. His eyes are dark and his hands are clenched into tight fists. I allow myself a brief moment to relax and gain my courage by leaning into Anders' warmth, but this annoys Carver.
"What are you doing, Marian? You don't know the man, yet you are ready to bed him...again. What is the matter with you?" he spits out as he stands staring down at me.
"You...do...not...own...me, Carver Hawke. You...never...have. I am not Bethany. I will not bow to you or anyone for that matter," I quietly say.
"You would bring her into it, wouldn't you? I see you are still trying to project some of the blame onto me," he says just as quietly. I swallow the lump that is threatening to overwhelm me.
"It was not my fault, she died, Carver. You could have prevented if you really wanted to, yet you allowed that ogre to capture her. It would have been better all around, if that ogre killed me... Then at least I wouldn't have to put up with you and you possessive jealousy or the pain I constantly live with..." And the nightmares...But I am not going to mention that. Anders tightens his arms around me and gently steers me away from him, but Carver grabs my arms and I lose it. I shrug out of the mage's arms and I release a bolt of energy at my brother. His eyes widen in surprise...and fear and I smirk as he stumbles backwards. He quickly rights himself and strides towards me.
"You little mage bitch," he says softly as he raises his arm...and swings and out of nowhere, Anders grabs his arm and shoves him away.
"Back off, Carver," he warns.
"She is my sister and she...belongs...to...me," he says softly.
"She belongs to no-one," says Anders. Carver scowls at us and then he turns and walks away, straight back to the tavern.
"Are you okay?" asks Anders. I shake my head. I am trembling and my legs give out. I sink slowly to the cold hard cement and I wrap my arms around myself...and my tears flow freely. I feel warm, strong arms gently lifting me. I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck and nestle into him. I can almost hear him smiling...If anything, marking him sounds most appealing. I open my eyes and look into his warm light brown eyes that are full of concern and some other emotion I can't place my finger on. He leans closer and kisses my forehead.
-o0o-
He lowers me onto his bed and moves away from me, leaving me bereft and cold. I open my eyes and seek him out. He is busy by a small fire. He fills a jug with water and fills the small pot, I have just noticed. I want to sit, but I feel drained emotionally and physically. I notice his Mother's pillow and I wrap my arms around it, holding it against my chest. I am...alone. My Mother hardly says two words to me and my brother made his hatred of me pretty clear. I stifle the sob that is threatening to burst forth and I attempt to deal with my intense pain and hurt at what my brother called me. Mage bitch...Mage bitch... And I burst into tears. Anders is by my side, enfolding me in his arms before I even realise it and I rest my hand on his shoulder whilst he presses me into him. Through my tears, I hear the gentle thump-thump of his heart and I find it strangely comforting. He strokes my short black hair which must look a sight. I don't want to know what my face looks like.
"You look fine," he murmurs. I look at him in surprise.
"How do you know what I am thinking?" I murmur.
He smiles. "Lucky guess, I suppose."
"I find that difficult to believe," I murmur as I feel around for his mark and I find it right over the hollow of my neck. I notice the pulse beating in the hollow of his neck and the temptation to do the same to him is overwhelming. He lifts my chin and gently kisses me. I attempt to move away from his mouth, but he gently pushes me away. He looks at me with deep pain and sorrow in his eyes. He places his hand over the mark he gave to me and caresses it.
"I shouldn't have done this not until I told you my secret," he murmurs.
"But it's done...And I want to," I murmur.
"No...Not until you hear me out then you can decide. You might feel you can't be around me after I have told you," he says as he stands. I frown as he lifts the small pot off the fire. He brings it to a small table where there is only one cup. He pulls out a couple of herbs and leaves and he quickly makes some drink. I sniff the air and I smile. He is making tea and it smells divine. He gives it a few stirs and comes back towards me. He holds out his hand and I take the proffered cup from him.
"What about you?" I murmur as I tentatively sniff it. It smells delicious. He sits next to me and curls his hand over my thigh and I feel it in the pit of my stomach.
"We share," he replies. He makes a move to take the cup, but I shake my head. He drops his hand and he gives me sad look. I grin at him as I have a sip of his tea and it tastes delicious. It warms me from the inside out. I shift closer to him and offer the cup, but as he raises his hand, I shake my head.
"Allow me," I murmur. I raise the cup to his lips, much to his surprise, and he has a sip.
"Come," he murmurs as he pulls himself onto the bed and he leans against the wall. He takes the cup from me so that I can move and when I do, I ensure I am right next to him. I take the cup and he once again curls his hand over my thigh.
"Your brother appears to be quite the charmer," he comments and I laugh. The sarcasm is not lost on me.
"He is a hot-headed and brash young man. He is domineering. In short, he is an arse," I murmur.
"I don't want to offend you, Marian, but he is a right royal bastard," he says.
"I am not offended, Anders. I was being polite," I explain. I lower my eyes and stare into the cup of tea. The liquid is golden brown in colour. I smile as I have another sip.
"You know, you make an excellent cup of tea," I murmur.
"Thank you...It is my speciality... If you don't mind me asking, what are doing here in Kirkwall?" he says. I look at him and I don't bother hiding my pain.
"We fled Lothering because of the darkspawn. I am sure you have heard about that... We lost everything, Anders. My sister died before we managed to escape. You heard what was said between my brother and me," I murmur.
"I am sorry for your loss, Mari... It must have been terrible. I know how much damage a darkspawn can do. I fought them for six months besides Queen Elyssa," he murmurs.
"You did?" I ask, surprised.
"Yes...It was she who conscripted me into the Grey Wardens at the behest of King Alistair. If it weren't for her, Maker knows where I would find myself," he replies. He looks away from me and by his drooping shoulders, I realise there is something else. Something he hasn't told me and I laugh at the thought. Why would he tell me? We have only known each other for a few hours. He looks at me then and reaches for my hand that has been inching closer to his muscular thigh.
"I spent six months in Amaranthine, Mari, being a loyal follower and companion," he says. I search his face wondering if he had a fling with her and again, I don't understand why the mere thought of his hands on another woman bothers me so much.
"I met someone...A fellow Grey warden...Well, actually it was just his body... A fade spirit named Justice inhabited the body of Kristoff and he became a loyal follower," he continues. Fade spirit? Again, I am confused.
"He mentioned to me on one of our travels if it ever occurred to me to fight for the freedom of mages. I told him no. He said he would help me. He said once the body he inhabited became unsightly – and it did become unsightly. There's nothing like a walking corpse to keep you on your toes – he would need a new host," he continues. He slides off the bed with catlike grace and I smile. Everything about him is catlike, right down to his slender hands and fingers. He paces in front of me, running his fingers through his untidy hair that is in desperate need of care. I search around and I find a comb. I grab it and as he paces past me, I grab his hand and pull him back onto the bed. I move and lean against the wall, whilst he looks on in mild amusement. I wave the comb at him and he grins. He gracefully climbs onto the bed and settles himself between my legs.
"Carry on," I murmur as I remove his hair-band. I slip it onto my wrist and I proceed to comb his hair. I gently move the comb through his tangled hair and I marvel at how soft and silky it feels.
"Please continue," I murmur and he tenses slightly.
"One afternoon, he led me to a clearing a distance away from Vigil's Keep – the Grey Warden Headquarters – and he told me if I helped him, he would give me the tools to fight for what I believe in, not that I was too keen at the time, but he gave me time to consider it. I spent a week, pacing my room at the Keep, thinking about what he said and the more I thought about it, the more I realised how unfairly treated, how unjust we as mages were and still are treated. I made my decision. I followed him to that same clearing. I was unaware of the templars hiding in the shrubbery, ready to arrest me. I agreed to his offer... I offered myself as a host..." he trails away, giving me a pained look and I suddenly understand.
"You...You merged with him?"I heard stories of mages merging with spirits. Stories my Father told me. He said it was just as dangerous as being possessed by malignant spirits. I pause, mid comb and I stare at the wall opposite me.
"I...Yes...I did so willingly, knowing the risk I was taking. As soon as the merge was over and Kristoff's decaying body lay at my feet, I was ambushed by templars. I...I don't recall much of what happened, but what I do recall is white hot anger coursing through me and..." he trails away. I resume combing his hair whilst I stroke his back with my free hand.
"Mari, Justice changed that day. He became vengeful. I became vengeful. You want to know why I left Amaranthine. I left because I killed those templars in that clearing. I...I killed them. When I realised what I had done, it was too late. There was and still is no going back for me. I am cursed. I am trapped and I don't want to hurt you. We have a connection and I am not willing to risk hurting you," he says as he abruptly moves away from me. He stands and wanders to the small basin and runs water into it. He splashes his face. He grabs a small towel and as he turns towards me, he dries himself.
"I am what most people would call an abomination," he murmurs. I stand and warily approach him. I study him thoughtfully for a while. I rest my hand on the top button of my blouse and I slowly unbutton it without breaking eye contact with him. His eyes widen in surprise and I feel...embarrassed. I close my eyes and continue. I know what he will see. He will see cuts and scars on my chest, my stomach, even my breasts. At least my back wasn't too bad. I cut myself only in places I knew wouldn't be visible, except for my wrists. Some would think they were old injuries where in fact they are not. I feel my blouse fall to the floor and then I remove my bra. I can almost smell his desire, but it doesn't bother me. It has the opposite effect and that makes me tingle. I drop my bra and I reluctantly open my eyes. He is right in front of me, holding my discarded blouse. There is no fear or disgust in his eyes. There is open admiration and it makes me feel embarrassed. I turn away from him, blindly grabbing my blouse from him.
"Anders, I am...I am...a blood mage," I whisper. There, I've said. It's out in the open and instead of the relief I was expecting to feel, I feel ashamed. I hastily push my arms into the sleeves. I can't prevent my tears from falling.
"Hey," he murmurs as he touches my back. I still at his simple gesture and his hand burns into my skin, fuelling my tears and need for him.
"Hey," he murmurs, gently turning me around to face him. "You forgot this." He holds up my bra and I smile at him.
"Keep it," I whisper.
"I intend doing that," he murmurs.
I look uncertainly at him. "You aren't afraid of me?"
He gapes at me. "No...No...I am not. In fact right now, I find you extremely attractive and to be honest, I want to make love to you," he replies and I gape at him. He slings my bra around his neck and he gently cups my face.
"You aren't afraid of me?" he murmurs.
"No...No...I am not," I reply. I realise, as I gaze into his eyes, that I am not afraid of him. In fact, I want to smile. He wants to make love to me and Maker help me, I want the same.
"Good...So many others have run away, leaving me all alone...I hate being alone," he says softly.
"I...feel alone most of the time, except when I bunk down at the Barracks with Aveline," I murmur.
"Mmm...She's the red-headed woman? The one carrying the templar shield?" he says.
"Yes...She is my very close friend. She is there to listen to me when others...flat out refuse," I murmur. "And the shield belonged to her husband. He died during our escape from Lothering."
"What happened to him, Mari?"
"He became infected with the Darkspawn taint... Unfortunately, the Grey Wardens were long gone. I believe becoming a Grey Warden is the only way to cure the taint," I reply.
"So much tragedy and loss..." he whispers. I nod as I lean towards him. I want to kiss him and mark him as my own. He smiles a soft smile and he gently kisses me. I feel the pull towards his hollow. I trail kisses away from his mouth, along his jawline, to the hollow and I gently press my lips against it. I feel a sudden surge of power and strong arms wrap around me. I feel his magic. I can taste it and it tastes of lavender, wood and hay. Lavender being the scent I couldn't place until now. I hover by his hollow.
"Do it," he murmurs.
"Are you sure," I murmur.
"Please, Mari...Do it," he whispers. I look up expecting to see reluctance in his eyes, but there is none. He nods and I gently nibble and suckle him on his hollow. Again, I feel a surge of power. It swirls around us. His energy is blue and mine is white. Our energies merge into a blue-white haze. I suckle a bit more, until he lets out a strangled sigh. It is nearly complete. I close my eyes and concentrate my lips there and I hear it...The sweet sound of mana singing beneath his skin and my skin. I pull away from him and kiss him full on his mouth and he lifts me into his arms and backs towards the bed and we both sink back onto it. He lies on his side, looking at me, and touching me.
"For life," he murmurs.
I lean on my elbow. "I can't believe it," I whisper. I brush his fringe back and he catches my hand and places a soft kiss in the centre of my palm.
"Anders, there is something you need to know," I whisper.
"Tell me and you can call me Andy," he murmurs.
"I...I have never been with a man before," I whisper. I don't know why I feel the need to tell him that, but I feel so comfortable with him and he has already been good to me.
He sits up straight and grins at me. "You are still a virgin?"
"Yes, the last time I checked," I reply and he laughs
"Then the pleasure will be all mine," he murmurs. "Have you been with...women?"
I gape at him and vehemently shake my head. "No...That has never appealed to me."
"And it doesn't bother you?" he asks.
"What? That your ex lover was male? No..." I reply.
"Excellent...Come here," he murmurs. He pulls me into his arms and embraces me. He nuzzles my neck and I giggle.
"So you like cats," I comment.
"I always have," he replies.
"I have a Mabari hound," I murmur and this gets his attention.
"Isn't having a Mabari the mark of nobility?" he asks.
"That is the common theory," I reply.
"So, you are of noble blood?" he asks as he sits up next to me. He leans against the wall and I settle myself between his legs. He gently pulls me against him. He wraps both arms around me and I grin at him. He gives me a chaste kiss that is filled with promise.
"Mmm...My Mother is an Amell. She was born in Kirkwall. She met my Father, Malcolm Hawke at one of the many banquets the nobles held. She was eighteen at the time. The nobles used mages for display," I murmur. I expect anger, but all he does is kiss my hair and take a deep breath.
"Your Father was a mage?" he asks.
"Yes...An apostate. He and my Mother eloped and fled Kirkwall. Her parents disinherited her. Magic runs strong and true on both sides of the family, Anders. In fact, I have a cousin – an Amell – who used to be a part of the Circle in Ferelden," I murmur and again, he takes a deep breath and I twist around to look at him. He has a sad faraway look in his light brown eyes.
"Her name was Solona... Solona Amell," he murmurs and he smiles. I look away from him and slip out of his arms. I feel jealous. It is obvious he had something with her. I wander to the opposite end of his small room and I lean against the wall. I have just marked the man, yet I can't control my irrational jealousy.
"I believe that was her name," I say.
"She was fun to be around. We spent many afternoons sharing jokes and laughing. She was bubbly and full of life. It was a sad day when she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens," he says.
"What?" This is news to me.
"Yes. She assisted a blood mage at the behest of First Enchanter Irving. The Knight-Commander would have given the order to have her made Tranquil, but Duncan of the Grey Wardens conscripted her. I have not seen her in over two years. She wasn't stationed in Amaranthine. So I don't know what has become of her. She was my friend. She was there when I joined the Circle at twelve. She was fourteen at the time. We had a brief fling when I was sixteen, but it was over before it really started." He stands and comes towards me. I back myself into the wall. I am still jealous. He rests his hands on either side of me.
"You are different...More serious...You have deep pain and sorrow and I have a strong urge to protect you," he murmurs.
"I don't have anything to be less than serious about, Anders," I murmur.
"And I wish you trusted me enough to tell me," he says.
"I...I do trust you. I just don't want to talk about it. We hardly know each other, yet," I murmur as I touch the mark I gave to him. Again, I feel the charge. It pulsates around us. His eyes widen and his pupils dilate. I have never needed anyone to this extent, yet I want him. I want him to make love to me. I want to complete our...bonding.
"Mmm...True," he says. He looks down and I follow his gaze. He has wrapped his hand around mine. He leads me back to the bed and we sit. I expect him to kiss me, but all he does is lean against the wall and he pulls me into his arms.
"I like holding you in this way. It comforts me," he murmurs as he grazes his lips against my neck.
"I like the way you hold me. I feel safe...Warm...,"I let the sentence hang. I was about to say loved, but I am not sure what it is I feel. He nuzzles my neck and then he kisses me. He trails warm kisses along my neck, to my earlobe that he nibbles. He trails away from that and kisses me behind the ear and I shiver. It makes me tingle all the way to my toes and my stomach clenches almost painfully. He skims his hands along my sides, up my arms and onto my shoulders where he peels back my blouse. He lightly grazes his lips from one shoulder to the other. He moves his hands and rests them on my stomach and I place my hands over his. He grasps my thumbs with his and massages them. He gently moves his hands upwards and I gasp as he closes his hands over my small breasts and I suddenly feel very overwhelmed. I need to breathe.
"Please...Too much," I whisper and he immediately removes his hands and I slowly exhale.
"I apologise," he murmurs by my ear.
"It's fine...Just...I need to breathe," I murmur. I sit up and face him. He is annoyed with himself and I feel awful. It's not his fault. I rest my hand on his cheek.
"There is no need to apologise... I am not used to it... I've never had the pleasure until now," I explain.
"Mmm...I got carried away. I should have realised," he says as I press my finger against his lip.
"Hey, I want you to get carried away," I tease. I settle myself on his lap and I feel his erection beneath me and I realise I am not making it any easier for him. I lift myself and rest my hand over it and he lets out low sigh. I leave my hand where it is, remove my finger from his lip and I kiss him. I feel him shift beneath me and I hear the unmistakable sound of a zip being pulled down and then he guides my hand over his erection and he lets out a muffled sigh that I stifle by deepening our kiss. He rests his hands on my hips and holds my firmly in place and he allows me to tentatively explore, touch and feel. He is rigid beneath me. Even his stomach muscles are tight. I realise it is taking considerable control on his part not to lose what little control he has. This man wants me. The thought makes me smile and I gently pull back and away from him. I gracefully slide off his bed and wander to the basin. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. By his clenched fists, he is struggling. I splash water onto my face. I need to control myself before I even go back to him. I wander to the door and lean against it, closing my eyes. I can't go to him until he is in control. I slide to the floor and wrap my arms around my legs and rest my head on my knees. I glance at him. He is sitting there watching me with deep desire in his eyes. I hastily close my eyes. His look is intense and it only makes me want him more. I hear footsteps and I look up. He is standing over at me, apparently in control of his emotions and he holds out his hands towards me. I gratefully take them and he pulls me to my feet. He cups my face and gives me a chaste kiss.
"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs. I laugh as I wrap my arms around him.
"I can say the same for you," I tease.
"There is something about you, Mari and I want to discover what it is. You make my heart sing like no-one else," he murmurs.
"Mmm...You make my mana sing," I tease.
"Mmm...You felt that?" he asks.
"Yes..." I whisper. He kisses my forehead and slips his arm around my waist. We wander back to the bed and we are grateful as we sit.
"So your Father was a mage?" he asks.
"Yes...So was my sister," I reply.
"Really? The gift of magic is rarely passed between siblings..." he says.
"My Father always said that...He taught my sister and I all he learnt from his days at the Fereldan Circle," I murmur.
"Mmm...You are fortunate to have had him as your mentor...," he says.
"Who was yours?"
"Wynne, a spirit healer. She taught me all I know about healing," he replies. "Would you like another cup of tea?"
"Mmm...Yes please," I reply.
