The Champion and the Dalish

Chapter 2

The Grey Warden.

Merrill had been in Kirkwall for two weeks now since she left the clan. And she hated the city yet she was fascinated with it.

The first few days in the Alienage were, for a lack of a better word, scary. The elves there ignored her unless she had to buy something from the "market", the drunk brutes, human and elf alike, would come and tear up the place and she's had to lock the door and once she even erected a wall of stone to prevent them from breaking her door down.

She hated the smells too. Every day she would wake up to vinegar no matter how clean the straws were, the smell of garbage from her one neighbour that she was happy to dump for her neighbours forced the elf to close her windows every day and night. Also she was using her next coin for shoes, creators know what she stepped into but she didn't want to guess judging from the smell.

Still, at least her friends were nicer…kinda.

Hawke in particular was, nothing like the humans she was told about before. He was kind, funny and strange at the same time, always grinning and playing jokes that often confuses the young woman but at the same time she can't help but giggle at them, he just had that effect on her. Plus for a human, he was…attractive.

She liked his beard, or stubble as Varric reminded her kindly, he looked very, roguish with it. Then again he was technically a rogue since he was an apostate. His muscles, which surprised the elf since he was a mage, were nice to look at when she caught him removing his armour for simple clothes, she could feel herself blushing madly when she even thinks of them.

What caught her attention the most, the one truly remarkable beauty he had, was his eyes. She knew one of the reasons humans found elves attractive was because of their eyes. Yet when she looked at Hawke's, Mythal forgive her for saying this but even the most handsome of her clan were minor pretty boys compared to his own eyes.

They were sky blue, bright and full of life that just starring into them made her feel the butterflies flutter in her stomach like a bee hive.

His brother was nice too, but he was bit…grumpy most of the time. It seems when he was with Hawke, it's as if he flat out despised his older brother but kept it within glaring as opposed to just saying it aloud. Though there were many times she saw him and Hawke argue in private. She wished Carver would just get along with Hawke, really she found it hard to hate the human…then again she realized maybe it's a sibling thing.

Varric was sweet yet sneaky she noticed. He had a silver tongue she was told, meaning he could convince you that the sky was pink and you'd believe it. He wasn't like any dwarf she had seen with her clan either, like Hawke he was one of a kind. Her clan story teller would say dwarves were greedy selfish creatures that destroy themselves more than any race.

Merrill didn't see that in Varric though, she saw a good man with some greed but who doesn't want things? He helped her when Hawke couldn't, street smarts and telling her right and wrong. He was a kind man with a heart of gold she summed up.

So here she was in the Hanged Man, by Hawke's request and as a favour for a friend. Of course she wanted to join up and help in any way she could, which he replied in he needed her to hit people with magic. She sat at the table with the Hawke brothers as Varric refers to them as often while he explains the purpose of this meeting.

'So we're good to go for the expedition. You need the gold but we've also got an issue you can help solve', the dwarf said, sitting at the far end of the table opposite to Hawke. 'Bartrand's being tearing his beard for this, because we got no entrance to the deep roads', he explained. 'So we need a map or a dozen?', Hawke asked, taking a sip of his ale. 'Yup, and the trouble is we don't have any but I know someone who does'.

'There's a grey warden in Kirkwall who has the maps to the deep roads, so I'm thinking we'd go to him and ask', the dwarf said. Merrill had little idea on grey wardens, aside from the basic history of them saving the world from blights, but what they do after a blight isn't common knowledge, all she knew from basic history was that if recruited that person has to leave their lives behind.

'Grey wardens don't exactly give out information outside their group', Hawke said wisely. 'True, but this warden, according to my contacts he's been hiding out from them, so say we make a deal with the guy and then we pick up the maps', the dwarf explained.

'Do we even know who he is? For all we know it could be the Hero of Ferelden', Carver said. 'Nope, last I heard he's in Ferelden with an old friend of his, this one apparently was recruited into the order'. 'Look, it's either this or we got ourselves an expedition to sit on'.

The brothers looked at each other before the elder Hawke made an exaggerated sigh.

'Where do we start?'.

Darktown

All things considered, Merrill lucked out…

Darktown had probably the most accurate description in it's own name, it was dark and it was a town.

Lowtown was bad yes but at the very least some parts were clean, the streets weren't one hundred percent littered with garbage and other foul objects, the people had shacks of homes yes but they were at least homey…ish.

This town was…a dump, there's just no other way to sum it up bar its name. It was beneath Lowtown, no sky to bathe the people in with sun and bright skies, there were homeless elves and humans around every corner, dank smells among other foul smelling things. Thugs were also common here, half of them were leering at her, brandishing their knives and licking them too, she was very grateful Hawke was there.

According to Lirene, the girl who was helping the refuges of Ferelden who escaped the blight, the mage they were looking for was surprisingly using his magic to heal anyone for free. Apparently he's gifted in hiding among the refuges, Creators he was a ghost among them, and clever too.

It took time to try and convince her the mage was in no danger, after displaying some magic of his own, Hawke was told he had a clinic within Darktown. They found the clinic within range to the stairs that led to the upper levels in Kirkwall, several people, namely families with small children and infants around the place.

'Ferelden folk that fled the blight', Hawke guessed, judging by their clothes and the accents. Merrill saw several elves too among them, coughing children that clenched her heart and some with bruises upon their faces, poor sods.

They entered the clinic, which was well kept and cleaned for a home in Darktown. Several patients were on the make shift beds, cuddled by their families and friends, looking better then worse. One table had a child laying on his back, his parents watching over him as the age waved his hands with blue spheres glowing around them.

The child gasped as his body was engulfed with faint blue light. He slowly sat up as the faded, his mother holding him by placing a loving hand on his back. The mage fell back and caught himself by putting a hand on a table, panting heavily. The father tried to pay him but the mage waved him off, a tired smile on his face as he stood up.

The family left after he handed them a small vial, presumably the medicine for future ills. The group approached the man, but before Hawke could even get a word in, the mage quickly grabbed his staff and turned on them.

'I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation! Why do you threaten it?', he demanded. Merrill shuddered from his voice, not because of it loud and threatening, but it felt strange and if she was honest, inhuman. Hawke however must've either not noticed it or ignored it, for he simply placed his hand up and spoke in a calmly tone.

'No need to set us on fire, we're just here to talk', he spoke, though with a little humour in his tone. 'We're interested in getting into the Deep Roads, rumour has it you were a warden, do you know a way?', Varric asked.

The mage relented after a moment. He slowly placed his staff down and turned on them. 'Did the wardens send you?', he asked. Hawke turned to Carver and Merrill for a second. 'Merrill you're a warden right? The keeper never mentioned', he asked. Merrill shook her head quickly when all eyes fell on her, especially the mage when his eyes intensified upon her.

'There we go. No wardens among us', Hawke said with a stupid grin. 'And since we're naming everyone, I'm Hawke, the guy behind me with the big sword is my brother Carver and the dwarf is Varric'. The mage blinked at Hawke, before he nodded. 'I'm Anders. An apostate, like yourselves' he said.

'Well technically Merrill's a First and a Dalish, so really I'm the only apostate in the group', Hawke retorted. Anders chuckled at this, his brown eyes lit up for a second before they turned serious again. 'If the wardens didn't send you, then why are you looking for maps to the Deep Roads?', he asked. 'An expedition my brother is funding, we need a map into the roads so we can avoid walking in a darkspawn nest…or Orzammar', Varric explained.

Anders nodded and gestured them to follow him. Merrill took note of the lingering eyes of the patients, many fearing for Anders' safety while others contained anger and if Merrill was a guessing girl, they were looking for something sharp and pointy to defend the mage.

They entered another part of the clinic, which they guessed was his personal quarters. 'Who told you about me and the maps?', he asked. 'One of my contacts knew Lirene had an idea about you, so we asked and she pointed us in your direction. Provided we weren't templars', Varric said as he sat on a chair near Hawke.

Anders ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a sigh. 'Listen, these maps aren't…well they're grey warden eyes only, and though I left, I can't just hand them over', he said. 'And no before you start, coin won't change my mind'. "Shit, plan B is already lost!", Hawke mentally swore. 'Although, a favour for a favour is another story'.

Seems like EVERYONE has a favour these days…

Night, outside the Chantry

'So remind me again, we're supposed to AVOID templars right?', Carver questioned, tone full of annoyance as he leaned against the wall, glaring at his brother, who was playing with a rubber ball. He kept hitting it off the wall just inches away a flower pot, challenging himself to hit the wall until Anders shows up without hitting the pot.

Merrill nested quietly near Hawke, her green eyes followed the ball as it bounced back and forth from his hands while Varric was writing down something in his note book with a smile. She learned recently the dwarf has taken to Hawke's life as a story in progress, often she heard and saw him in front of a crowd regaling some stories about Hawke.

One of the most recent ones was the mountain trip, but unless she wasn't paying attention, she heard a lot of things he said didn't add up. Did they really fight a dragon up there? Was there a three headed dog that only spoke Antivan? The biggest question of all and one she hoped to Mythal she'll have another chance to see, was there really a baby griffon?

'This is why we're waiting for Anders to give up the signal and proceed', the older Hawke replied as he caught the ball with his right hand. Carver rolled his eyes as he continued to watch for any templars that may show up. 'So Varric, what's the newest chapter of yours?', Hawke asked. 'Well that depends, are we gonna fight templars in a heroic attempt to rescue a mage, or are we gonna try and discover if Andraste preferred women or men?', he asked.

Hawke laughed at the last part, shaking his head as Merrill tried to put this new puzzle together. How were they gonna find out if Andraste was into women or men? 'How do we ask? Isn't she dead? Or can we ask her statue?', Merrill asked shyly. She got a confused look from Carver before he rolled his eyes and resumed his watch, while Hawke and Varric stared at her before chuckling.

'Not a bad idea Daisy, I'm writing that down!', Varric said as he quickly scribbled down Merrill's line, this was gonna be a fun one. Hawke looked at the elf who looked more confused than ever. 'Statues…don't talk Merrill. Even Andraste's', he said, a fond smile appeared on his face. The elf made an "oh" sound as she turned slightly pink for her naivety. Another trait of hers he started to like was her innocent questions, while it can be seen as ignorance, Hawke fond it charming and often hilarious.

It was refreshing too, since he was stuck with his ever chip on the shoulder brother. Just as the chuckles died down, Hawke looked to the top of the stairs that led to the chantry and saw Anders wave at them. 'The moment of truth, let's go', he said, putting his ball back into his pocket as they climbed the stairs. He didn't know why, but somehow Hawke felt like he was entering the lion's den. Not that he was scared of the chantry, he was a good Andrastian at that, it just he felt unclean sometimes when does go into the chantries. Maybe its because he's a mage and the very fact he was also an apostate, in a holy home, with templars and clerics…

'I haven't seen anyone go in or out for awhile, you ready?', Anders asked. 'Lead on, we're behind you', Hawke said.

Inside

The chantry was silent as the graves, the faint smell of incense tickled the noses of the five, the pale lunar light pierced the stained glasses gave this a eerie atmosphere, like a haunted castle. Merrill was warned by her keeper many times to avoid the chantry at all costs. She guessed it was because elves weren't really welcomed in such places of holy grounds, not to mention she is a blood mage so that make anyone reconsider entering such a place.

But Anders was certain his friend would be here, not that they doubted him but it felt strange that an apostate that escaped a circle would choose the holy chantry as a meet up place. Still it would be the last place a templar would look. 'He'll be on the second floor, hopefully we can get him out before the revered mother or anyone shows up', Anders said, apprehension was in his voice and looked on edge.

'I'm just hoping we get to leave without witnesses', Carver muttered. They climbed the steps past the giant statue of Andraste and found the second floor, a single mage stood facing the window. 'Karl', Anders whispered, relief washed over his face as he jogged towards him, friends in tow.

Then, that hope was crushed.

'Anders. I know you too well. I knew you would never give up', he spoke. Merrill's blood turned to ice the moment she heard his voice. Cold and empty, like a walking statue. "Oh no", she thought, realizing his fate. 'What's wrong? Why are you', Anders started, his body frozen upon the realization. Karl turned around to face them, and Merrill's fears had been confirmed. Upon the poor mage's forehead, was the sun burst symbol of the chantry, a mages greatest fear, a fate worse than death itself.

The Rite of Tranquillity.

'I was too…rebellious. The templars sought an example', he said. 'Karl no', Anders choked, his face crushed by despair. Hawke looked away, either out of sadness or he just unable to look at him, as if a possible fate that could be him in future. 'How else will mages be able to master themselves? You will understand Anders', he said.

Then, Merrill and the others bar Anders turned around, too see the templars arrive, armed and ready. 'Once the templars teach how to control yourself', he finished. 'Oh shit', Varric cursed, reaching for Bianca as everyone grabbed their weapons. 'This is the apostate', Karl said.

'NO!', Anders cried, suddenly his body collapsed to his knees as he placed his hands on his head, suddenly blue smoke emitted from him. Until in a burst of magical energy, he stood up, his eyes glowing blue. 'YOU WILL NEVER TAKE ANOTHER MAGE AS YOU TOOK HIM!', he roared, another deep booming voice took over.

Without warning, Anders blasted a templar with a bolt of blue energy, sending him crashing into a wall, a sick crack echoed in the empty halls. 'So much for in and out!', Varric said as he fired a bolt that pierced a templar's neck.

Carver wasted no time and sprinted towards the captain, two handed sword bared as he swung at him, his superior strength and larger weapon easily over powering the unexpected templar. Hawke and Merrill stood behind him as the two mages blasted templars with a mixture of rock and lighting with fire and ice, the very elements turned against the templars.

Hawke spun around and smashed a templar's helmet with the blade of his staff, disorienting him before he plunged the staff into his chest. He turned and fired a stream of ice that froze his on coming attack, freezing him like a statue.

Merrill encased herself in her rock armour, which blocked the attacks of the templars. One got his sword stuck in her rocky shoulder, giving her time to point her staff and blast him away. She looked to see Carver decapitating the captain with a clean stroke of his sword while the older Hawke surrounded the two templars that were approaching Varric with a ring of fire.

Quickly the dwarf spun and fired two bolts at them, killing the templars. Merrill saw Anders blast and destroy the templars without mercy, his eyes encased in a dark blue magic were riddled with rage beyond anyone she had ever met. His aura itself was incredible too but also, terrifying.

Once all the templars were slain, his aura faded but something else, had changed.

'I…Anders, what did you do?', Karl asked. His emotionless tone was replaced by legit confusion and shock. Anders turned him, his eyes return to the hazel colour as did his voice, but the sadness had not. It just got worse.

'Okay, why's he…normal again?', Varric asked. 'That's impossible. When a mage is turned tranquil, that's it. There is no way to reverse it', Hawke said, even he was lost. 'When you're tranquil, you never think about your life before. But, it's like Anders brought a piece of the fade with him', Karl said.

'I-I don't know how you did it, but please, kill me. It's fading!', he pleaded. Anders paled and shook. 'Karl no', he said. 'Anders, you don't know what it's like. To feel nothing, to have no dreams and feel so empty. Please', he begged. Anders clenched his fists, as he slowly reached for the knife tied to his waist. Then, Hawke placed a hand on his, stopping him.

The mage looked at him with shock, before his eyes fell to the small dagger in the fellow mage's hand. 'You don't need his blood on your hands, this is punishment enough', he said. Tears fell from his face as he stared at Hawke, before he looked away in despair. Hawke approached Karl as Varric moved Anders away from this. 'Thank you', Karl said as Hawke could see the man Anders risked his life for fade in his eyes for the final time. 'Maker take you into his arms', Hawke said as he plunged the dagger into Karl's heart.

Clinic

'So that blue thing you do?', Hawke asked as Varric closed the door behind him. 'I…its hard to explain', he said.

For the next hour, Anders explained to the group about his…issue. It turns out Anders met a spirit of Justice while he was a grey warden in Amaranthine, and the two became close friends. They wanted to help the mages who were taking from their families and free them, to do so Justice fused with Anders.

Tragically, his hate and anger for the templars warped and changed Justice, now whenever he sees them, he turns into Vengeance, a dangerous spirit that gives Anders incredible power but at the cost of losing control of his mind. 'And that's why, I kept this to myself', he said. 'This can't be easy to talk about', Hawke said. 'You four are the first to know of this…thanks for not running', he said getting up and heading to his desk. 'As promised, the maps are yours…as am I if you need me', he said.

Hawke took the maps and gave Anders a handshake. 'Good, we'll need your healing, and you'll get your share of the expedition, I promise'.