Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Authors Note
A bit of a debate here, which I love, and a flashback of sorts. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter myself, it's a bit too Amell-centric for my tastes, but I'm not sure how else I can convey what I want without her as my vehicle. In game, I did max out her persuasion first, but on paper it makes her sound like a Sue, which I want to avoid. Suggestions welcome on this matter.
Day Off Drabbles: Chapter 3
Shuffling back to bed took her past the library. The smell of decaying flesh told her Justice sat within. The smell came not from the spirit of course, but from Kristoff, who's dead body Justice inhabited. It made the others uneasy mostly and not least of all her.
Was Justice / Kristoff an abomination if the concept was utilising a corpse? Kristoff was already dead when Justice unwillingly came through the veil, and from accounts Kristoff had been no mage. So the debate continued, was he or wasn't he? Should Justice even be at the Keep at all? He was, since Kristoff had been a Warden, and he claimed he had nowhere else to go. But surely the role of Grey Warden expired when the person, well, expired? Had Amell made the right decision? Even now, she contested it, and what the consequences of the investigation that lead them into the Blackmarsh would be. She was avoiding the issue by sidestepping any confrontation, but that too would eventually demand resolution, one way or another.
Amell poked her head sheepishly around the door. "Kri-Justice? Don't you sleep?"
"I have no need of it." Replied the spirit honestly, not looking up from the board game he was playing. Black and white pieces moved across a chequered board, though instead of two players, there was only one. Amell had no patience for it herself. "Do you require my assistance, Warden Commander?"
He looked up at her through stolen flesh and Amell had to look away. The thought of what he was not only made her uncomfortable but as time moved on, his physical appearance became harder to ignore. Less and less had she taken him on missions outside the Keep, until they stopped altogether, and now the areas he was permitted in grew fewer too, to put the staff at ease. Yet that felt wrong too, particularly as a former Circle mage, the irony did not escape Amell that what she was doing was fundamentally making the entity a prisoner, of the flesh and increasingly of the keep itself. It made it worse that the spirit seemed to accept her reasoning, and did not protest.
Well, maybe he didn't, but Anders certainly did. A few weeks ago he had cornered her in her office, sinking under piles of darkspawn reports and bookkeeping from Denerim. "You do know what your doing is wrong, don't you? Keeping him locked up inside the keep because of fear of what he is."
"Even those who know him are disgusted and terrified of what he is, Anders. He is a dead body of a man many of the staff knew and was known in Amaranthine, now given a half life by a spirit of the fade, which puts me in a very delicate position."
"Does it?" Anders crossed his arms, "You've got a big advantage, Commander. People trust and respect you, both in the Wardens and outside. Show them that Justice isn't a threat, that he poses no harm to anyone but darkspawn and demons. Bring them round to your thinking."
She put down her already still quill then, and looked him square in the eye before she spoke in a low tone, "I'm not sure I even think that." She paused, "He's not like us, Anders; Justice is not a mage. He is a fade spirit, with abilities and goals that are his own." She shook her head at him, "We… I am not the Chantry in this scenario, and I am looking for a way to resolve the dilemma."
Mages with an aptitude for politics could make rather convincing arguments, and it was not the first time she and Anders had disagreed on something. Fortuna had made it her business to hone her talents of persuasion, and was not above using those same skills on other Wardens.
"You have to appreciate that first we are setting a precedent, and second I have to keep the peace in the Arling. For the time being, that means not giving cause for the rejection of the Wardens, which in turn would involve the king and destabilise Ferelden as a whole." That said, she hated the fact that she sounded like one of the nobles in the Landsmeet, vying to keep control for her own benefits, but still it would have an effect on the country. Not a lie, but an extension of the truth, "I could not do that for any one being. I would not."
Anders shook his head. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?" The bitterness in his voice pained her somewhat, but the truth could not be denied.
"In this case, yes."
They did not discuss Justice after that. Amell was close to Nathaniel as her second in command, but Anders understood her unique position as a mage, who was trying to do well, for mages, for Ferelden and Thedas as a whole. Nathaniel knew her as Commander, but Anders… knew her as a person. She called them her advisors, but the senior and subordinate staff referred to them endearingly as, "the Commander's favourites'.
"Justice." Amell deliberated a moment longer, hovering around the library door. "At night, in the quiet hours… please feel free to move about the keep and its grounds. During the day also you may do this, but please keep your, uh, person well concealed."
She disappeared just then out of sight, the spirit looked up, startled by her proposal, and in doing so knocked over a piece. He observed it, as it rolled in a circle helplessly, and thought about what she said. An idle comment, "I win."