Mirror Maze

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CUATRO : ORTUAC

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"Then I'll do what Blondie would have wanted me to do, elf".

…

That night, dreamless sleep came easily to him.

Fenris felt rested when he woke up, with the events from the previous day took taking their time to come back to his memories.

Really, it was around the middle of the morning, when the markings hurt the most, that he thought of the mage and the special ointments Anders made for him to make the pain decrease, free of charge as long as he helped collect the ingredients and remembered to bring back the empty bottles. A truce between them, product of so many years barking at each other. He wondered if there were some ready expecting for Fenris to get them at the Clinic, and there probably was as the mage usually had a batch made regularly.

On his way out of the mansion, glass bottles clinking inside his pack, the Sun shinning high made his recently awake mind work and he remembered.

Anders was Tranquil.

Or so Sebastian said.

Also, Varric hadn't specified whom he was talking to when he mentioned visiting Anders.

If Fenris didn't have any plans with Hawke that day, well, then he could make some on his own. Painfully, he made his way to the Hanged Man just like any other day. He shouldn't have allowed himself the luxury of permitting the help of a mage, much less with the markings: his own weight to carry for the rest of his life.

Fenris left the bottles at the Mansion, still packed just in case (of what?).

The Hanged Man, like the day before, had been full of life and sounds. So many sound it could have given Fenris a headache if he stood in the middle of it for more than a couple of minutes. Luckily, he found Varric coming out of his room. The dwarf had been genuinely surprised when he first had seen Fenris but quickly recovered from his astonishment.

"Bianca and I figured we'd end up going alone", the dwarf said, smiling and eyeing Fenris with cold eyes, "seems we were wrong".

Varric, Fenris noticed, had profound dark circles under his eyes and smelled stronger than ever of the horrible ale he drank almost daily. Of course, his clothes and Bianca were immaculate. The contrast left Fenris uneasy. Something wasn't right.

"You were", he answered simply.

"Not running today behind Hawke's tail, aren't we?"

"No, it's not Tuesday".

"I'm not getting a reason for your company, am I?"

"No".

"Good, just clearing that out". Varric patted Fenris back twice and braced himself for the day to come rolling his shoulders, "let's get this over with".

Fenris did not mention Isabela's absence, he'd knew she wouldn't go with them from the look the pirate gave him on the docks. She, who joked about freedom and spirits and demons; she, who shared a night with the mage long ago. She, who took his hand in the Deep Roads. She, who cared.

Isabela, who loved the man she believed had caused this. Nonsense, the elf thought, but if there was a thing he understood, it was that one. Varric seemed to do so too.

The way to Lowtown was full of insignificant commentary by Varric, remarking on trivial facts of their not so trivial life. Maybe his next book should be about a person coming back to life, about people born with two souls, or an epic rescue quest full of witty dialogue, busty barmaids and a one-armed qunari that only knew how to speak orlesian. Fenris did not share the dwarf's empty laugh nor did he miss the projections on his ideas, but that would be a conversation for another day (preferably never).

Jokes and ironies aside, most of Varric's dialogue had turned forced the closer they got to the docks, and the elf suspected it was not only the impeding sense of doom but having to get onto a boat too. Not even the many sounds of the sailors and merchants, birds and waves, could drown the dwarf's voice for Fenris's ears, even when the elf was trying to find the right ride for them to travel.

A boy standing on a wooden boat was looking at him. A boy he'd seen before but where? No matter, the row in his hands told Fenris the kid worked as the rower for the old and sad piece of wood. It would suffice. Varric followed him with a disgusted expression but said nothing, apparently recognizing the kid as well.

Before boarding the boat that would take them to the Gallows, the warrior spoke.

"Why did you not use your contacts to find about the mage's whereabouts instead of going yoursefl? You surely have this city covered from the highest tower…", he asked. Hawkeless leg work did not suit the dwarf in Fenris' opinion.

"… To the lowest rat-hole", Varric ended, trying to accommodate himself on the boat, "y'know, I will fight anyone that dares to say to my face that dwarves are only made for the life underground but, oh boy, dwarves and water only go together if it's used to water down our ale. And not even then, Broody".

Fenris signaled the brittle boy, offering him three pieces of gold. The kid took the coins with his trembling hands and hid them inside his tattered shoes. Fenris grabbed the row himself and the look on his eyes told Varric he was not to comment on it. Ever.

"Blondie would have swan all the way to the shore easily", the dwarf said instead.

"His stubbornness would have him swimming entire seas for his cause, I will give him that". His reflection, broken by the ripples he caused with the row on the water, looked back at him. His face, the only one he remembered carrying, seemed almost foreign. The situation was of no help whatsoever either… Fenris on a boat to see…

"… Anders", Varric finished saying something Fenris hadn't heard. One look was enough to reach the dwarf's understanding. "I said the kid back there used to visit him at his clinic constantly, his mother needed, needs, a remedy only Anders made for free. I'll see that Tomwise gives him a generous discount".

"He wasn't the only one", said Fenris remembering the empty bottles at the mansion. "You did not answer me".

"What do you want me to say? Half the men I paid to take care of Anders disappeared and the other half are dead. All of their families, thought, all of them are now pretty much out of any debt they had. And no one know absolutely nothing, no matter how much money I put on the table". Varric sighed, his shoulders falling, "No matter how much… You still want me to think it wasn't Hawke? Who else could have done this?"

"Templars", Fenris answered, it was the obvious for him.

"Oh, Broody", Varric laughed mirthlessly, "all the men I had a deal with had problems with the Chantry and an interest in keeping Anders safe. Whoever did this not only had the means to cover everything from me but also had to knew whom to speak with and how to buy their silence".

The look of utter defeat did not suit Varric at all, Fenris thought keeping himself from making further comments, questioning the dwarf would only demonstrate how much he had tried, searched and failed. He wondered if Varric could manage to give Anders his allegedly last will in his current emotional state when he hadn't been able to let go of his brother. And if the dwarf couldn't do it…

The elf's grasp around the row tightened. Killing the mage had been a common thought once, killing mages (rogue or blood ones) a common activity, but to do it because of mercy to Anders was a novelty. The man was his companion and had fought at his side no matter how much they declared hating each other, he even fought for him against Hadriana and took the time to create a temporal relief from his markings. Justice aside, had there been more mages like Anders maybe, and only maybe, things could have been different for them all. His death would bring Fenris no happiness at all and he suspected being the one to grant it to the mage could only enlarge the emotional void inside the elf.

Their silence only heightened the Gallows' ominous atmosphere when its entrance greeted them with its closeness. Fenris was tempted to go back and forward at the same time, dreading giving an answer to the topic at hand and needing one to be free of the crushing doubt. Varric seemed no better, worse even.

He adjusted the dagger in his belt.

Leaving the tattered boat at the shore, elf and dwarf ventured into the Gallows. As usual, the many statues of slaves that decorated the plaza filled him with anger and disgust but what made bile raise inside himself was seeing the Tranquil selling their meager wares. It was a picture that would never fit the mage nor the abomination nor the healer in Anders.

Of course, that Anders was no more, for the man himself was sitting on a bench in the distance, he carved sun indistinguishable for Fenris' elven eyes, right above an alien lack of expression in his usually communicative face. The dagger in his hip felt heavier than the sword on his back.

So, it was true.

Despite being pretty much in an open space, Varric's steps echoed in his ears, "Is that… Blondie? It can't be".

But it was.

The closer the pair got, the sheer wrongness the man emanated became clearer. Combed and slightly shorter hair out of his typical tie, Circle robes, no staff and empty soulless eyes looked back at them with no sign of recognition that went beyond tensed shoulders and jaw. The vivid image of misery and desperation (though Varric came a close second).

"Hey, Blondie", Varric said not bothering to smile and cover the disappointment on his face, "Bianca wanted to say hi". Adjusting the crossbow in his hold, his position told Fenris a shot between the eyes or through the heart would do the trick.

"Varric, Bianca", Anders greeted drably looking down at the dwarf from his seat. Then, turning his head slowly… "Fenris".

"Mage".

"Not anymore".

All the thing Fenris hadn't felt in an entire week came crashing down on him at that very moment.

Not even with the tall man sitting down could Fenris tower him properly but his menacing posture and look would have made up for it had Anders any capability to feel fear. Or anything at all. Still, the elf got close and grabbed him by the disgusting robe he would never wear in a normal situation. Before he could slap some sense in the man, in himself or into the world, Varric stopped him holding his arm and receiving the sneer the elf gave him alongside Anders.

"How could you be so stupid?", Fenris growled at the blond man, letting the anger he knew how to deal with flow. To be driven by the sadness and desperation was not something he could manage with. Much less there in the open where he would have to accept them instead of the denial he'd been working with.

"Broody, let him go", Varric pleaded, "let him go".

"This was the right course of action, Fenris", Anders spoke, his voice lacking in tone a too close, too close, too close to him, "The world is safer now with a mage less in it, isn't this what I deserved?"

Before the elf could even question if it was, Varric answered, "No, no it isn't, Anders!", he pushed Fenris aside and took one of Anders hands, "stop with the nugshit, Blondie, no one deserves this".

"It's nice to see you again, Varric", Anders said unconvincingly, his empty voice failed to convey what his words meant, "your visits will always be welcomed", without looking at Fenris, he continued, "yours too, Fenris, I'm glad we can finally put aside the past and see eye to eye. You were right all this time".

But he wasn't.

Whose face the man carried now was unimportant, he wasn't Anders. Anders would have wanted to die and he probably had at the moment magic had been taken from him. The mage was dead and the Tranquil would not mind, would not feel, his rage nor anything at all.

Or so Fenris believed, trying to convince himself that his trail of thoughts weren't just excuses because he couldn't do it.

"Fenris", Anders called, bringing him back to the mortal realm. Something flicked in his eyes for a mere second, "your markings". Fasta vass. Stubbornness characterized the man, of course there would be a part of him that lingered behind even after he faded away, the mage always put the other before him and apparently still would do so. "Tomwise knows the recipe, ask on my behalf and you should get a discount in your purchases".

Varric eyed him but Fenris, unable to speak, only nodded in the man's direction. Ah, he was no better than Varric.

"I'll..." Varric started in a wavering voice, sharing a look with Fenris, "we'll come back soon, alright, Blondie?"

"Maker be with you both".

The elf suddenly had the need to kick Sebastian in the crotch.

"Didn't expect to see you here", someone said behind their backs.

Knight-Captain Cullen regarded them nervously, his Templar armor shining in the sun. The bags under his eyes filled Fenris with a certain amount of delight. His gaze went from the dwarf to the elf and from the elf to the dwarf to settle on Anders, who ignored him. Varric's hold of Anders' hand stiffened and Fenris changed to a firmer posture.

"Just a friendly visit, nothing else", Varric commented nonchalantly, "we were on out way out".

Before Cullen could question them, Fenris sneered. "How long has he been like that? How long have you know?"

Cullen lowered his head frowning, "a week".

"Which question are you answering?" Varric inquired.

"Both. I was there when it happened".

Hearing the Templar was enough for Fenris, "you did it", he declared between his teeth.

"He had too", said Anders suddenly while standing up and letting go of Varric's hand. His abrupt addition to the conversation left the other without words and could only look as he walked to stand besides Cullen.

"I'm taking care of him, not letting other Templars get close at any moment. He's not exactly a fan-favorite amongst them", Cullen said, Anders closeness causing him obvious discomfort.

"Not even you trust those of your Order, why should we trust you?", Fenris asked with a grunt, forcing himself to stay in one place.

"It's all we can do now", Cullen simply said turning his back at them, "let's go, Tranquil".

Anders followed him and Fenris remembered for a second when magisters referred to him as slave. Circles might have been a necessity, to stop mages from forming another Imperium, but Tranquility?

"Pay attention, elf", Varric said. Fenris, intrigued, looked at the backs of the men walking away from them.

Anders looked back and winked.