Ven'irsera
She must have traipsed through a dozen different sewage tunnels. She had not only soaked her thankfully cheap Free Marcher boots through with urine, but caked them ten times over with fecal matter and several other indescribable forms of waste before she finally found the door with the lit lantern above it, as described by Aveline. Anders' clinic. Aveline's directions were not at all clear…or more likely Darktown was not at all clear…either way she smelt of shit and urine and chokedamp, the latter of which caused her to cough and wheeze quite violently at the most inopportune moments. She'd already faced down a contingent of Carta and a couple groups of bandits and slavers due to her having blown her own Void bound cover. Lyna had certainly been right to leave Teagan and Ethlen behind. Teagan never would have stood for wading through the excrement of several different races (she was surprised she could still stomach it herself after so many comfortable years in the keep at Ameranthine) and as for Ethlen, sneaky little rogue though she was, she would have been a liability down here.
After checking the small clearing between her hiding spot and the door of the clinic-as well as tossing a small pebble down the nearby stairwell, firing an arrow across the open area beyond and making several coughing noises and listening for it to raise an alarm of some sort-she finally decided it was safe to take the last few strides towards the far too well lit doorway and her one time friend...she'd be made so much fun of if her subordinates had seen that. She thought, at first, to knock but then remembered something Aveline had said about Anders being jumpy as regards to templars and decided knocking might cause him to run and so she would simply walk in and surprise the man. She was plenty capable of dodging his attacks.
As she opened the door, she was surprised to find it didn't creek as she had expected it would. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing…it served those entering and exiting the clinic to not be heard doing so by whatever lowlifes were potentially lingering just out of sight, however it made it almost laughably easy to sneak up on those inside if someone were there to do mischief. She made a mental note to speak with him about that later.
She noticed that as she walked across the room to where the man sat chatting with a cloaked child, his back facing towards Lyna, none of the rest of the clinic's occupants paid her any notice. Good, that meant her disguise was effective...now that she was about to blow it by revealing her commander-y-ness. Pausing directly behind him, she threw her hip out to the side and loosely crossed her arms before she began tapping her toe.
All conversation with his young patient came to a halt as the sound of her tapping toe reached his ear. His head then turned, ever so slowly to look over his shoulder at the newcomer. As she drew back her hood to reveal he face, he realized who she was and wilted almost instantly under her glare.
"Anders!" She cried as he winced. She controlled her voice only enough to avoid becoming shrill. "What in the name of the creators are you doing here!?" She demanded.
"Commander! I, uh…" he bumbled as he stood to face her and simultaneously wrung his hands. "I promise I had absolutely nothing to do with this…"
That caught her off guard. Nothing to do with this? With what? That's when the hooded patient walked up from behind him, grabbed his hand and meekly peered out at her from behind him.
"I swear I was just about to come find you and bring her back," Anders insisted as Ethlen pouted up at her.
"Don't be mad at Anders, Mamae," She pleaded. "I wanted to see him, but you wouldn't let me." Tears brimmed the girl's bright blue eyes and threatened to fall, but Lyna was long immune to this puppy dog act. She wondered sometimes that Ethlen still used it on her at all, even if every other Warden under her command were wrapped around the child's little finger. Fire burst through her veins and sparked in her eyes as she straighted her poster, place both hands on her hips and stared down those ridiculous puppy eyes.
"Da'len, you are in a world of trouble!" She shouted, still using her commander voice. The puppy dog eyes vanished, the tear instantly dry, and were immediately replaced by the 'Grumpy Pout'. "How often do I actually tell you to do, or in this case not do something!?"
"Never," Ethlen pouted. "But I made it here all by myself just fine; no one saw me at all!" She insisted.
"That doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed me!" Lyna snapped. "Just because no one saw you doesn't mean there was no danger. I specifically said no, and I did so for very good reasons. Now go stand by the door until I am done with Anders!" She commanded.
"No!" Ethlen yelled. "I don't want to!"
"Do you really want to test me, right now Ethlen Mahariel!?" She almost bellowed. Ethlen winced, but refused to cower before Lyna's temper. She kicked the dirt beneath her feet and muttered something about mean grownups and hating Mamae. Lyna glared righteous fury at the child's back as she finally did as she was told. She wasn't sure what punishment would suffice for this transgression. Teagan was right about one thing, Ethlen was indeed becoming too willful. Now she turned her most dangerous glare on Anders. "I'm going to TRY forget for a moment that my daughter was down here with you instead of patiently waiting in our rooms in Hightown and ask you what exactly you and Justice are doing here in Kirkwall and not with the Wardens in Weisshaupt as you were instructed…and you allowed Justice to possess you along the way!?"
Now Anders stopped cowering and crossed his arms in indignation. "Considering the number of times I ran from the circle, can you really be surprised that I ran from the Wardens when the Templars sent Rolan to keep an eye on me?"
"Rolan was a Grey Warden when he died, not a Templar," She snapped.
"That's not what it looked like to me when he called the Templars to put me down," Anders replied, his own eyes narrowed at her.
"You think I had something to do with that?" She cried in disbelief.
"I don't know, did you?" He snarked back.
"Of course not!" Lyna replied, now genuinely taken aback by the accusation. "Cover your ears, Ethlen—Seriously Anders, exactly how many times did the circle ask me where to find Morrigan without receiving so much as a 'fuck you very much'?" She demanded. "I had no idea that Rolan was still loyal to the Templars, and if I had, it would have been dealt with. I promised you safety amongst the Wardens and I meant it." Behind her, Ethlen choked back a giggle at her mother's curse.
Anders watched Lyna suspiciously for a good long moment, weighing whether or not he could trust what she said. She didn't know what there was that he could possibly be debating about; she'd done nothing but protect the mages under her command, and upon learning of Rolan's true loyalties, she'd travelled to Kinloch Hold and had personally beaten Knight Commander Greagoir to a bloody pulp for so much as presuming to even 'monitor' the mages at Vigil's Keep, let alone dispatch them for stepping outside Chantry bounds. The Chantry had no voice in the ranks of the Grey Wardens and he most certainly knew it now. She'd been screening recruits much more carefully since then, especially those coming from the Chantry. Finally Anders relaxed and relented. "Maybe not, but the fact is that the chantry considers me an abomination now," he replied.
"Yes, that was a stupid decision on your part," Lyna replied, her glare resettling on her face. "They hounded us for weeks until I finally told everyone you were dead."
"Whether or not my choice was foolish is a matter of opinion," Anders replied testily, but decided to change the subject, apparently wishing to not delve any further in to that discussion. "Why did you come here, Commander? You must have better things to do than hunt down rogue mages in foreign countries."
She continued to glare for a moment before sighing and letting her shoulders and head droop in exhaustion. Anders wasn't her responsibility any longer, and part of her was grateful for that. "You are right, I do," she said as she rubbed one of her shoulders and looked back up to meet his gaze. "I'm looking for someone; a warden by the name of Alistair. I've received news that he is living in Kirkwall."
"Alistair!?" Anders asked, shock written on his face. "You mean that drunk at The Hanged Man who goes on and on about how he's a traitor and a disgraced Ferelden Prince?"
"Oh no…" She moaned as her head slumped in to her hand. Alistair, a drunk? It wasn't as if the man never drank, of course. He could go a few rounds with Oghren, even if he'd never managed to win the game of 'drink the dwarf under the table'. But she'd betrayed him so that he could live a life, not drink it away in some foul tavern in foul Kirkwall.
"He's a Grey Warden...?" Anders cogitated, smiling amusedly to himself. "Although that does make some of his ramblings a bit more sensible…and that strange tingly feeling I get whenever I walk past him..."
"...Ramblings?" She almost hated to ask.
"Stuff like 'Stupid Grey Wardens and their stupid rituals…Why does anyone go through the joining anyway? What are the Wardens good for?' And much more I'm sure," Anders supplied.
Lyna sighed deeply. Well she was now absolutely certain that there was no chance he would be receptive to a visit from her. That would make things much more difficult. "I'm afraid I'm going to need to beg your help then," she looked up at him plaintively. Anders cocked a highly curious eyebrow at her.
"I get the sense that there's quite the story here…you might have to share it with me before I'll consider whether or not I can help," he replied cheekily. She wondered for a moment that she'd ever even been vaguely attracted to this man.
Lyna paused, not sure she wanted to share the entire sordid story with her most troublesome recruit. He had a mouth on him and had never been particularly discreet, that was for certain, and she really didn't want her private affairs publicized, but…Anders might just be her only hope here. "What do you want to know?" She finally acquiesced.
"Everything!" Anders exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Brilliant…" She muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked around the room, noting the many patients, some who were now listening very closely to their discussion. More importantly, Ethlen was listening to their discussion. She wasn't exactly ready for her child to know the deep intimate details of her life before Vigil's Keep. "Can we do this somewhere a little less…public?" She pleaded in a lower voice. Anders' evil little smile deepened and she knew instantly that this was not going to be an enjoyable experience.
But he obliged her. "Of course," Anders replied. "Just give me a couple hours to patch up the patients I still need to tend to."
She nodded and with that, he went to the clinic's entrance and extinguished the lantern light above the door. That light signaled whether or not the doctor was in, she guessed. With that she walked over to where her daughter stood, looking falsely contrite. "Don't think for a moment I am fooled by that face," Lyna reprimanded. Ethlen's expression morphed back in to the grumpy pout as she huffed and crossed her arms. "We'll be having a very long discussion when we get back to our rooms." What was she ever going to do with that child? She wondered sometimes if she needed a better role model than the soldiers she so easily manipulated at Vigil's Keep. Since Ethlen could get anything she wanted out of any one of them, she was beginning to assume she could eventually break Lyna down as well. She wasn't even a teenager yet. What sort of fresh hell would that be?
A couple hours passed and Ethlen had gone from stubbornly pouting on her feet to drawing Elvhen symbols on the floor…and scowling whenever she though Mamae was so much as glancing sidelong in her direction. When the last patient walked through the door, Anders cast a quick spell to cleanse the clinic and then signaled for them to follow him. They crossed the landing outside the door and stepped in to the covered area just beyond where Lyna had been crouched just before entering his clinic earlier. There he revealed a magically hidden door.
"Where in the world does that lead?" She hissed, gripping Ethlen's hand a bit tighter.
Anders chuckled to himself. "The most dangerous place in Thedas."
"Then why are you taking us there!?" She hissed again, her head jerking in the direction of the child accompanying them.
"You'll be safer there than you will be sneaking back to your rooms through the tunnels of Darktown after nightfall, I can guarantee you that," he teased. Lyna simply glared in his direction. Anders rolled his eyes. "Maker, the noble who lives there is a friend and a Ferelden and he couldn't care less if I come and go. In fact he prefers it, considering the number of Templars I have to hide from in this wretched city…not that his self-righteous friends approve." That calmed her just enough and she nodded her agreement to follow. Once the door to Darktown was safely closed, bolted and magically secured behind them, Lyna's shoulders relaxed and her grip on Ethlen's hand loosened.
Ethlen, still in a defiant mood, yanked her hand away and glared at her mother as she shook it out. "Don't squeeze my hand so tight Mamae!" she hissed.
"Then do as you're told, emm'felas asha," she rejoined. Though, perhaps calling her daughter a slow girl was not the best parenting form…but then she really had made a stupid choice when she sought out Anders alone, against Lyna's express demands. "Now, Anders and I have to talk about grown up things, so stay in the foyer and behave yourself…I mean that," she insisted as Ethlen skulked off to sit by the fire.
"It's alright," Anders assured Lyna. "She won't come to any harm in this house…regardless of the rather hardened tenants…" he shrugged.
"Are said tenants at home?" She asked, looking around the foyer as they reached the top of the stairs. The main level of the house was nicer than anything she'd ever seen back in Ferelden where even the noble's homes were dark, dingy and grey. These walls were closer to marble and were a strange greyish blue that she had to admit she almost liked.
"Unlikely," He replied. "The Champion of Kirkwall is almost always off putting out this fire or that and helping to maintain the rather tenuous political situation in Kirkwall. He really only has this place because he'd have trouble influencing the nobles if he still lived in his uncle's old shack in Lowtown."
"Why do I get the distinct impression that you are mixed up in all of that?" She mused.
"Because where else would I be?" He smirked before leading her to the larder and helping himself to some cheese, a few slices of bread and two glasses of wine. Handing her one, he chuckled when she eyed it suspiciously. "I promise, Hawke won't mind a bit of food going missing…if he even notices. He has bigger problems…now, tell me all about the town drunk."
Lyna groaned. She really couldn't believe that was Alistair's reputation here. Regardless of his awkwardness, he had at least been accepted by those who knew him as a formidable warrior, and while Morrigan certainly never took him seriously, the rest of the country still knew it was better not to push him beyond the limits of his temper. Loghain may have survived their encounter, but only because of her own intervention, and only because she desperately needed to be sure that Alistair's life would continue after the blight.
"His name is Alistair…" she started slowly, her eyes glued to the glass of wine before her. "…Theirin…" she finished, bringing her eyes up to meet his.
For Ander's part, he was bug eyed and speechless…but only for a second. "As in…?"
"As in," Lyna confirmed.
"Wait, wait, wait…the town drunk, who goes on and on about how he's a disgraced, traitorous prince…is exactly that?" When she nodded, Anders almost cackled.
"Well, he's not exactly a prince," Lyna amended. "He's King Maric's son for sure, but he's a bastard and the king never acknowledged him. He was raised by his uncle, Arl Eamon."
"The Queen's regent?" Anders asked, his eyes still as wide as saucers. "The one who hates you for reasons you refuse to share with anyone?"
Lyna shot him a stern look. "My problems with Eamon have no relation to my problems with Alistair." She said, effectively warning him off the subject. Anders shugged and waited on baited hook for her to continue the story he really cared about. She sighed, rubbed her temple and summoned the will to continue. "Alistair Theirin was the warden who fought alongside me and eventually deposed Teyrn Loghain before he was conscripted to the Wardens. When he refused to fight alongside the man who quit the field at Ostagar, Queen Anora exiled him. Politically, it was the right move; Bastard or no, he's a prince of the blood and had the potential to become a threat to her rule…but he never had any aspirations to rule. The only danger he posed was to Loghain himself, whom he'd sworn revenge against after the death of the previous Commander of the Grey, Duncan."
"So…If I may…there has to be more to this story," Anders prodded. "Why did you conscript Loghain anyway? After all, he died before the battle was won. You'd have been much better off with a young soldier by your side than an old veteran…"
"Alistair…he was more to me than just a brother in arms…he was a...friend," She replied, trying to avoid giving Anders the dirty details that really were none of his business.
"He was your lover!" Anders declared, seeing right through her hedging. He may have been the worst sort of obnoxious as times, but no one could say that the healer wasn't perceptive. When her cheeks flushed and her eyes again dove deep in to the glass of wine, his eyes lit up with the full understanding of her situation. "No, he wasn't just your lover…you were in love!"
"Yes, alright!?" She hissed, gesturing at him to keep his voice down so Ethlen wouldn't hear…even though she was likely eavesdropping right around the corner. "I was, and as far is he is concerned I betrayed him in favor of Loghain, and he has no idea why."
"What?" Anders choked. "You mean he never asked and just disappeared right?"
"I may have misled him about my actual reasons…" She hesitated. Anders waved a hand to signal her to continue. She knew he wouldn't let it go until he had the complete story, and so sighing she relented. "Morrigan, the witch in our company, told me the archdemon's death would claim the life of whomever slayed it. How she knew this when no one else did…well, excepting Riordan—I don't know. She told me a couple weeks before the landsmeet and I knew that if he ever found out, he would find a way to take the final blow himself…" She sighed and rubbed her eyes, the ghosts of tears shed long ago prickling behind them. "I couldn't live in a world that didn't include him, so I tried to push him away, to make him leave…When nothing worked, the landsmeet finally provided me with the ammunition I needed; Alistair might have loved me, but he would never serve beside Loghain so I conscripted Loghain and Alistair fled the kingdom."
There was a long silence as Anders let the story sink in. She imagined he was looking at her completely differently now; his stern, unyielding former commander was in fact a woman underneath her armor, and one wounded deeply at that. It was not a side of her that she cared to ever share with her men and so she had locked it up in the deepest darkest corner of her heart long ago. "Well…" He finally said, tossing back the last of his wine. "I must say, that explains why you always spurned my advances."
"Yes…" She replied snidely. "That…and dallying with subordinates is usually not a particularly good idea."
Anders shrugged. "So then I assume the reason you are searching for this Alistair is to reclaim your lost love?" he prodded, wiggling a suggestive eyebrow at her.
Her eyes narrows further, daring him to continue teasing her. "No," she replied shortly. "Queen Anora has allowed him to return to Ferelden and I am accompanying Bann Teagan in place of Arl Eamon, who cannot be spared from court." That was a lie, but she hoped he would buy it. He eyed her, seemingly unconvinced, but for whatever reason, he let it slide.
"And where do I fit in to all of this?" He continued.
"We don't know where he's staying. Usually, I would simply beat it out of the locals, but the Viscount and the Guard Captain have rather insisted that I behave myself." She noted the knowing smirk that quirked his lips up in the corner, but she continued. "I need you to approach him; take him some place where Bann Teagan can speak to him without him potentially running off again."
"Isn't this something that you could do yourself?" He asked, skepticism raising his eyebrow ever so slightly. He didn't understand, and why should he? Anders might be a runaway and a coward, but he had never hurt anyone as grievously as she had Alistair. She felt no need to make him understand; how strongly she feared eventually having to face him, knowing that he might choose not to return if she revealed herself too early. Somewhere deep, deep down, in a place she had thus far refused to explore, she even harbored the hope that he would forgive her someday…and the longer she went without facing him, the longer she could enjoy that tiniest spark of a wish she kept locked away, even from herself. Logically, she knew that was about as likely as her daughter becoming an agreeable teenager.
"He's done nothing wrong," She evaded. "He deserves to return to his home and seeing me would likely elicit the urge to do the exact opposite."
It was an explanation—not the one he was looking for, but it would suffice. He gave her one long look before standing up straight and nodding his head in agreement. "Very well," he replied. "I will help you bring the king's bastard home to Ferelden…on one condition."
"Name it," she nodded. Anders could not ask anything that she was unprepared to give.
"When we are done here, the Wardens make no more claims on my time, nor have any further interest in my dealings. You tell anyone who cares that you found me dead in Kirkwall," he replied.
It was not exactly a small request; technically she had a right to demand of him what she wished, she had conscripted him and he had a duty...and the fact that he was asking no more from her raised several alarms in her head as to what his aforementioned dealings might be. But if she got Alistair in exchange for letting Anders go, that was a trade she was more than willing to make. She nodded her agreement, "Very well; once Alistair is home, our business is complete. The Grey Wardens will not impose on you again."
A/N: LONG chapter! Don't worry, another one is in progress. I just wanted to share this one before it got much later. Hope you all enjoy! For more information on what happened with Rolan, visit wiki/Anders_(short_story) to read a short story about Anders and Justice merging together, written by Jennifer Hepler, David Gaider's 2nd in command at Bioware.