This one-shot title is Control by the amazing sing/songwriter Poe. It was also the first one I wrote for this challenge. It was initially inspired by the song title it was named for but gained further inspiration from the songs Big Girl Little Girl, Lullaby, and Kill and Run all by Sia. Which is also part of the inspiration for her name. This is set in its own (AU) universe that runs pretty close to in-game material. Both siblings survived. Bethany is not a mage and Carver becomes a Templar while their elder sister is a thief for the Carta. Anders and Krysia are in a love/hate relationship. Enjoy! (I thought I'd show my love for Anders, since he got bumped for third to last place in my list of favorite LIs)


Control

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Anders watched as Krysia melted into the darkness. It was rare someone got to watch the infamous Shadow Dancer at work. Uncontrollable and wild, Anders felt surprised she let even him around in these moments. He knew she didn't trust him and she hated Justice. The only mage she had ever known was her father and he was placed so high on a pedestal that an 'abomination' like Anders could never reach his level, not in her eyes anyhow. Still, she never turned him in to Carver or the other Templars.

"Hey, tall-blonde-and-broody. You're watching from the wrong direction," a deep voice whispered from the behind him.

Anders startled for a moment before he realized it was her. "I'm not moody. I'm a rebel," he retorted.

Krysia chuckled, one arm wrapping around him. Seductively, she ran her hand down the hard plains of this stomach, her perky breasts pressed against his back. He shivered in response to her closeness, unable to control his desire. "Mmm," she mumbled. "Anders is moody, Justice is the rebellious one."

Anders coldly stepped away from her half embrace, desire turning to anger. "If what I am bothers you so much, why do you even..." he stopped, unable to say it out loud. He was never sure what to call it anyway. It was all under her control.

Hesitantly, Krysia leaned her forehead against his back. "I don't know. However I try, I can't help but to want you."

He whipped around and roughly grabbed her by the chin. "You want me yet you can't stand to even let me meet your innocent sister and mother? Do I mean that little to you that you can help that bitch Meredith in the light but come to my clinic at night?"

She closed her eyes. She couldn't let a demon-possessed mage around Bethany and her mother, no matter how much she loved him. It was too dangerous. What if he lost control of Justice? It could happen at any moment. Yet, every time Anders looked at her with his eyes like liquid gold... those eyes made her never want to let him go. Instead, she looked at his lips, praying he would kiss her so she could forget he was a mage and her brother a Templar. Forget about magic and responsibilities. She didn't even care if it was Justice in control, for a moment she wanted to forget.

He scowled down at her, pieces of his dark blonde hair falling into his eyes, but he dipped his head in low and kissed her. Hungry and desperate, Krysia crushed herself against her lover. She hated that she needed him so badly, but it was out of her hands. All she could think of was his scent, his taste, the rough texture of his stubble beneath her fingers. She was utterly consumed by him and utterly terrified of it.

"Sia!" a voice called out. The sound of running footsteps jolted Krysia back into reality. Hastily, she shoved Anders away. She knew he hated it when she did that, shoving him away in front of people made him feel used. Like she felt ashamed of being with a man like him. But how could she trust him completely when he had promised her over and over he was going to break her heart someday?

She sighed and looked towards Isabela, whose high heels were making a sharp rat-a-tat sound as she ran towards them. Her face was pinched with worry and her thick, dark hair was a mess.

"Bethany is missing. Sebastian, Aveline, and Fenris are waiting for us in a lowtown foundry." The color drained from Sia's face as she took in the meaning. Bethany could be hurt. Dead. Anything.

They all took off, Isabela taking the lead. She knew Isabela would be just as worried. She and Isabela may have been rivals in the shifty world of thieves and pirates but 'Bela' was her sister's best friend.

Isabela filled them in on the details as they ran. That evening, Bethany had received lilies with a note attached. "According to reports from that manservant of yours, Bodhan, she thought they were from Fenris. We all know they're sweet on each other, poor dolts," Isabela explained.

Krysia cast a quick look at Anders as they reached the foundry. He took one look at her face and kissed her on the cheek. "It'll be alright, love. We'll get there in time," he whispered.

They weren't in time. Later, when Sia was alone in her room, she felt like she couldn't breathe. Magic, blasted magic, had killed her sister. Both her mother and Carver refused to talk to her but she knew they blamed her, it was hidden in the anger in their eyes. He was dead, that bastard who murdered her sister. But it was Krysia who should have died. So many people loved Bethany. Krysia had been the troublesome child who had gotten her father caught by the Templars. It was her fault they died.

Magic. Everything linked back to magic. Control it. Destroy it. What was she supposed to do? It ruined everything it touched. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, coating the pillow that lay beneath her face. Why did it have to take Bethany? She hated magic.

A tentative knock sounded against the door. She sighed and buried herself deeper beneath her covers. She heard the door creak open and slowly someone made their way to her bed. She silently hoped it was Anders. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. She needed to be held but was afraid of reaching out, especially to her mage lover.

She felt the bed shift as someone crawled into it with her, softly pressing their body to hers. Melding from behind, an arm wrapped around her waist. She breathed in the smell of him, spices and rain. His scent was toxic in a deceptively sweet way that was completely Anders. "I'm sorry love, so sorry," he whispered, lips pressed gently against the back of her neck. The words were meant as a reassurance but the vibrations his lips made sent shivers down her spine, instead.

"A-are all mages so desperate, Anders?" she asked, afraid of the answer but unable to stop the words from tumbling out.

She heard a sigh and his arms wrapped tighter around her waist. "No. Yes. They- we're not all evil. You can trust me," he murmured.

Krysia felt torn. She wanted to believe him but Justice terrified her. He felt wrong. What if he made Anders kill someone? If all mages were in a circle where they belonged, her sister would still be alive. It would be her fault if Anders did anything. But she couldn't let him go. She hated herself for being so weak but she craved him. She needed to fill herself up with him, meld with him completely. She missed him even when he was around. She feared him but she needed him. Uncontrollable desire.

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Three years. Three long years since she had killed the Arishok. Three years since Isabela had left Kirkwall. In the end, the pirate wench had won the race to find that stupid book. That betrayal was still sharp in her mind but Sia blamed herself for the death of the Viscount, his son, and the other people there that day. Bloody barbarians, she thought with disgust towards the Qunari.

She had no friends left now, not that she ever had that many. Carver was rude but he made a good Templar. He never had much time for his older, impulsive thief of a sister. Aveline was determined to bring her to her cells one day. All she had was Varric and Anders, now. She inwardly scoffed at the thought. She barely even had Anders. He had become more and more erratic as time wove on. She feared he would lose control at any moment. They fought almost non-stop about everything. Magic, her brother, Merrill and that blasted mirror, and about Justice. Mostly about Justice. She prayed Anders wasn't past the breaking point with the spirit.

She barely listened, now, as Knight-Commander Meredith and that magey fellow, Orsino, were arguing on. They hadn't found Anders yet, and thats the only reason she was even there.

"There can be no compromise," a voice bellowed from the crowd. Krysia turned and saw Anders, his whole body a glow from Justice's power. He stomped his staff on the ground and pointed it at the sky. Her eyes followed the direction it was pointing as a sound erupted inside the Chantry.

Her eyes widened with shock and horror as a beam of light shot up from the ground, piercing down the center of the Chantry. Bits of cement and ash whizzed by her face. The Chantry was no more. Hundreds of innocents were blindly killed.

She couldn't breath. Her hands shook. She heard a strangled cry and turned around to see Carver standing over her lover's corpse. She collapsed to her knees, tears falling against his chest and blending with his blood. Take me. If he has to die, take me and I can keep a part of him. She had lost everything so there was nothing left to lose now. It had never been under her control, after all. This was the way it had been fated to be at the start. And now, she would gladly be the next victim if meant keeping a piece of Anders with her. In the end, she had only ever known them as one.

A final tear fell as she felt a strange whisper in the back of her brain.


And so there it is. My very tragic Anders Rivalmance fic. I'm sorry. I really am.