The Commander's Chamber

Around dusk, Anders received the summons he had expected. He had bathed for the occasion, slipped a gold ring through his left earlobe and brushed his blond hair until it shone. His skin was scented, his clothes fresh and his emotions restrained beyond measure. He summoned the coquette within him, and headed toward the Commander's chamber.

He found her collating statistics, poring over maps and looking exhausted. She glanced up, and managed a tired smile. "Be with you in a moment, Anders."
He continued standing as she wrapped up her business, settling down with a sigh. "Sit down, recruit. How're you feeling? I know it's a long journey from Lake Calenhad to Denerim."

"It… it was fine my lady. You seem weary though," he said in a rush. "Perhaps I could help? I am a healer after all, and I have been told I give an excellent massage…"

Tabris chuckled, rubbing her own neck. "You'd get on very well with an Antivan I know."

The mage quailed, wondering if he were to be sold to some dockside madam. Misinterpreting his look, she gestured toward a brisk young woman.
"Mhairi, please escort Anders back to his quarters. Anders, I'll debrief you in the morning."
The woman walked his back toward the barracks, pointing out landmarks and notable people. She offered to take him to the mess, but he declined preferring to go hungry rather than risk it just yet. Mhairi smiled with sympathy and bid him goodnight. He was surprised once again when she left the door unlocked. They probably know I've nowhere to go, he thought miserably, slowly unlacing his boots and outer robes, but feeling too vulnerable to strip down completely. He hated the waiting game – they had tortured him with it in solitary, taunting him about what they were going to do. His only comfort had been a cat called Mr Wiggums. When the adorable moggy had become possessed by a rage demon, he had taken out three of Anders' tormentors before he was brought down. Sometimes, the mage fondly imagined that the cat had become susceptible to the demon because he was so furious at his beloved Anders' plight.

A barrage of booted feet clattered down the hall, putting an end to his semi-pleasant reverie and shocking him fully awake. His gut clenched and his heart pounded, thinking the expected abuse was about to start. Ribald jokes and innuendo echoed through the corridor as the men drew closer – and walked past.

He let out a sigh of relief. Of course, he thought. Commander always gets first taste. After all, he reminded himself, just because she was too tired tonight, didn't mean she was going to let her soldiers have first go. For a moment, he wondered if she actually liked men. Well, he would see tomorrow. And if not, she would be bound to have a second, or senior advisor he could attach himself to – not as good as the commander, but it would afford him some protection. With that not-very-comforting thought, he fell into a restless, fitful sleep until dawn.

The next morning, he did the best he could after little sleep, picked up his staff and headed toward the training ground as ordered. The Commander was there, and to his relief, he thought he caught a flash of appreciation.
"Right Mage! Show me what you can do!"

He was taken aback. "What, here?" he blurted out.