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A/N: This is officially the longest chapter so far!
Marian was already sleeping when Anders returned home. Dawn had begun to lighten the sky by the time he and Fenris had made it back to Kirkwall. Anders felt too raw to go and find Nate. Howe knew where Anders was now, and Anders needed sleep to clear his brain for the argument that was due between them.
Fenris hadn't been very forthcoming when Anders had pressed him on what Justice and Nate had talked about. He'd only told Anders that the two of them had argued over taking Anders back to Vigil's Keep. Nathaniel seemed determined to drag the mage back to the wardens, and Justice was determined to keep Anders right where he was.
Neither had thought to consult with Anders on what he wanted.
Anders slipped his coat off and ran his fingers over the holes that Fenris had made. One of the side skills of being a healer was that Anders knew how to sew-he just wasn't sure if he was going to be able to salvage his coat without large patches. He carefully draped his coat over a chair and grimaced. He also wasn't sure if he could clean his coat well enough for it to be wearable. The Deep Roads were not conducive for keeping anything clean. Maybe he would give Bodahn a crack at it.
Anders sighed and scrubbed at his face with his palms. He could only hope that when Marian found out how badly Anders had failed, that she could see pass her anger long enough to realize that it was better this way. Anders was only one man, and he didn't have the contacts that some of their friends had. They should have told them a long time ago.
As he unlaced his shirt, Anders smiled to see that his bedroll was already laid out on the floor. He and Marian had thought it would seem suspicious if they weren't sleeping in the same room. That hadn't meant that they needed to share a bed.
He really needed to bathe, but he was too exhausted and the floor was beginning to look like a feather bed. Even Justice seemed to sense that Anders was in no emotional state to deal with him, and left the mage alone. He had done so as Anders and Fenris had talked as well, and Anders wondered at it.
He reached down to grasp the hem of his shirt when he heard the crash. He turned towards the closed door, even as Marian bolted upright in bed. Bodahn began to shout, yelling at someone that they couldn't just barge into the Champion's house like this.
"Anders," Marian whispered as she slipped out of the bed. They stared at each other across the room, both flinching when they heard the sound of plate mail. Marian began to tremble before she squared her shoulders and started for the door.
"No!" he gasped. He reached out and grabbed her arm, the silk of her blue nightgown almost slipping through his fingers. "Let me... let me look first." Bodahn's shouting was joined by others. Marian waited a heartbeat before nodding. She pressed her hands to her abdomen and took a step back from the door.
Carefully, Anders walked to the door and squatted down in front of it. He chewed on his bottom lip, and caught his breath as he cracked the door open. He eased it open as far as he dared and slipped out of the room at a crawl. He slid along the floor, moving towards the banister. Marian's house was so open, that if Anders was very lucky, he might be able to see who was down there-and how many.
Before he could get close enough, he felt the smite. Anders jerked to a stop and muffled his gasp against his arm. The smite slammed into him and cut off his access to the fade. He hadn't felt one in so long, that Anders was disorientated. The smite wasn't the work of one templar, it had encompassed the whole house.
Too many, Anders thought as he scrambled back towards Marian's room. He didn't feel any reply from Justice and began to panic. The spirit wasn't a demon and the smite had effectively pushed Justice down. Anders felt the empty place where the spirit usually resided and knew true fear. Anders couldn't fight without his magic and he was no match for a group of templars without Justice. The ones at Vigil's Keep that had tried to take him so long ago hadn't thought that a healer would be any problem. They hadn't bothered with cutting off Anders from the fade.
He couldn't let them take Marian. She had never been in a circle before and would fight them. Fighting your fate in the circle only made the punishment worse. They would try and break her, and with Marian's spirit, they would end up killing her or making her tranquil instead.
Once back in the room, he shut the door behind him and bolted it, fumbling with the lock with hands gone numb. He turned towards Marian, both of their eyes wide. "Templars," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Too many of them. Did you feel the smite?"
Marian nodded, her hands clutching at her nightgown. "We need to leave." She swallowed, her spine straightening and she lost some of the fear in her face. "We need to leave out the passage. Bodahn can't hold them off for long." She dropped to her knees and reached under the bed, snagging the pack she had prepared for just this very thing.
Anders walked to the fireplace and ran his fingers along the mantle. He pressed at a slight indentation in the stone and took a step back. The fireplace swung out on well oiled hinges, opening to reveal a spiraling staircase that led down. Marian had thought of everything when she had renovated this house. Her mother had assured her that there was no reason to have an escape route anymore, but Marian had grown up on the run from the templars. Her father had taught her too well to relax.
He grabbed his coat from the chair and slipped into it. "You go first," he said. Marian didn't bother with getting dressed pass putting her shoes on. She grabbed her staff and a candle and moved down the first few steps of the passage. They could hear the metal clanking of the templars as they ran up the stairs.
"We'll send Varric a message in a few days," she said. "He'll know what to do." The shadows began to deepen and she spun around just in time to see the fireplace close.
"Run, Marian. I'll delay them for as long as I can," Anders said as Marian was plunged into near darkness-alone.
"Anders!" She pounded on the stone, screaming his name. The fireplace only opened one way to prevent anyone from using the passage to get into the house. She reached for her magic, only to be blocked. She turned and started running down the stairs. She had to get to Varric.
Anders awoke in the dark. This time he didn't have the stars above him, only stifling blackness. Pain racked his body, and he rolled over on his side on the cold, stone floor, curling in on himself. The templars had broken down the door to Marian's room and surrounded him. There had been too many for them to fit inside the room, and Anders had been encircled by a cage of steel. When the first blow had come, Anders had fought them. He may have been without his magic or Justice, but he was going to be damned if they found him cowering. Before he had blacked out, Anders realized they had not once asked where Marian was.
They hadn't been there for her, he thought. They had finally cornered the aposate of Darktown.
Anders tried to reach for the fade, only to come up against a wall. He closed his eyes, a futile gesture in the all encompassing darkness. Most circles had prison cells built especially for mages. The magic that went into creating one was so old and such a carefully guarded secret, that Anders didn't think very many were capable of doing it anymore. He had spent a year of his life in the Ferelden circle inside such a cell. Lined with runes and seeped in magic, the cells cut off a mage's access to the fade. It was a perpetual smite, almost guaranteeing that the mage inside could not escape.
They also couldn't heal their wounds or defend themselves.
Anders gingerly slid his hands down his body, taking inventory of his injuries. He shivered, naked and cold while he cataloged two broken ribs and a multitude of bruises and swellings. His nose was broken as well and blood crusted over his face and lips.
The darkness of the cell taunted Anders, his mind hurtling back to the year he had spent in isolation. They hadn't broken me then, I will not allow them to break me now, he promised himself. But he'd had Mr. Wiggums before. There was no cat coming to keep him company in the Gallows.
He shivered, his broken ribs screaming in pain with each breath he took. As long as Marian was safe, Anders would count this as worth it. He had promised her he would help protect her child. Giving her a chance to get away before the templars found the exit behind the fireplace, had been the only option. Anders' phylactery had been destroyed and Marian had never had one, but the templars wouldn't need one to find them. They would have torn the house apart and hurt Orana, Bodahn and his son until they told them where Marian and Anders were.
But they hadn't been after Hawke, had they? he told himself. His hands clenched into fists. No. They had been after Anders. Because of him, Marian had to flee her home. He could only hope she had done as he asked and ran. Maybe if she got to the others they could come and-
No. He couldn't assume there was any rescue forthcoming. Even Anders hadn't been able to get into these cells to free the mages inside. The others didn't have his knowledge of the escape routes out of the Gallows that he had. He had only himself to rely on.
The scenery is different, but all the circles are the same. If I could get out of one, I can get out of another.
Anders knew the layout to the Gallows like the back of his hand. He just had to be patient and survive long enough. He would get his chance-if his mouth didn't get him killed first.
Marian burst into Varric's room in the Hanged Man wearing nothing but a blue nightgown and a pair of muddy shoes. Her hair was tangled and dust clung to the dark strands in patches. She looked crazed and she knew it. Varric and Isabela both rose to their feet as she came in. A man with shoulder length hair stood as well.
"Hawke!" Isabela said. "We were just talking about you. Although you're making me look like a liar right now." She raked her eyes over Marian. "Honey, you look like shit. And here I was, talking you up to Howe. I even told him what a steadying influence you are on Anders." She brushed a cobweb off of Marian's shoulder and grimaced.
"No time, Bela." Marian slammed her palms down on Varric's table and leaned towards the dwarf. "The templars came for me this morning. They got Anders."
"And Justice allowed this?" The one Isabela had called Howe said incredulously.
"There were too many of them. They used smite. I think it did something to Justice." Marian shook her head. "He never made an appearance. I..." She felt Isabela's hand on her back, urging her to sit down. She had ran through the tunnels under her house, using forgotten passages to escape into Darktown. Then she had ran directly to the Hanged Man. The adrenaline that had kept her going was seeping out, leaving her drained. She covered her face with her hands.
"We have to save him. They'll kill him or make him tranquil," she said, her voice muffled. "I shouldn't have dragged him into this."
"And what would that be, Hawke?" Varric asked. "The part where you told everyone he was the father of your child? Or the part where you had him pretend he was?" Isabela's felt Hawke's back stiffen under her hand.
"This isn't the time, Varric," Isabela admonished.
"Oh? I think this is very much the time," Nate said. "The templars couldn't get to Anders when he was in Darktown. From what the two of you have told me, they would have had to go through a battalion of Ferelden refugees."
"I can't believe Meredith had the gall to come to my home, though," Marian said as she dropped her hands. "He should have been safe there!"
"Should have," Varric said drawing their attention to him. "But Darktown is out of sight, out of mind. Why do you think the gangs run down there? Or we find so many apostates and blood mages? No one cares what goes on in Darktown. Hightown, though, that's another matter. You and Blondie weren't exactly quiet about the fact he was living with you."
Marian rested her head on her arms and stared at the floor under the table. She absently noticed that the floor to Varric's room was cleaner than the rest of the Hanged Man. "How did you figure it out?" she asked.
"Warden's are sterile," Nathaniel offered. "It's not widely known."
"But you know it," Marian muttered. "Who else knows?"
"Just us so far," Isabela said. Her voice held no note of judgment. She'd once told Hawke that there was little she judged another for. No matter what someone had done, she'd more than likely done it too-if not twice.
"And Broody," Varric supplied. Hawke suppressed a groan. She could only imagine what Fenris was going to say to her.
Marian lifted her head. "This is my fault isn't it? Meredith can never imprison me in the Gallows so she's decided to go after Anders."
Varric nodded. "That is one possible reason. Or it could be as simple as Blondie made himself a little too comfortable near the nobles of Hightown."
"We could go around and around of the why's," Nate said. "Or the who's and Howe's," he mumbled, a small smile slipping over his lips.
"The sexy warden is right." Isabela sent Nate a sly look. "What matters is that one of ours is gone. What are we going to do about it?"
She just doesn't stop, Marian thought. Isabela will be flirting with the Maker when her time comes.
"Do about what?" Everyone's eyes jerked towards the door and went silent as Fenris walked into the room. A chill went up Fenris' spine. Hawke was wearing a dirty nightgown and even Isabel looked solemn.
Varric cleared his throat. "Templars came to Hawke's place this morning. They got Blondie."
The elf's lyrium brands flared so brightly, the light seeped through his armor. Anders would never allow himself to be caught. He'd heard the mage talk often enough about how he would rather die than go back to the circle. He knew what had happened the last time they had come for Anders. "There has to be a mistake," Fenris said, willing the others to tell him that it hadn't happened.
"No, mistake. Anders stayed behind to give me time to run." Hawke said brokenly.
"And the spirit?" Fenris asked. "He wouldn't allow this to happen." Justice would have torn the templars apart to protect Anders. Even if he didn't care about what happened to the mage, Justice cared about his cause and Anders' part in it.
"They cut us off from the fade. I don't think Anders could reach Justice." Marian touched her abdomen in a protective gesture and Fenris felt himself snap.
"This is your doing," he hissed. "If you hadn't let everyone know where he was, and lied about him being the father of your bastard-" Everyone spoke up at once, defending Hawke.
"Look, asshole-"
"Now, Broody, that's not fair."
"That's going too far!"
"Enough!" Hawke yelled as she stood up, silencing everyone. She rounded on Fenris. "I know you're angry with me, and we can have a spectacular fight about it later on, but right now Anders needs our help."
Fenris crossed his arms and snorted. His claw tip fingers started clicking together. "My apologies, Hawke."
"Accepted." Marian inclined her head. "And I'm sorry for not telling any of you the truth. But I can't go back. I can only apologize and never do anything like this again."
Fenris nodded as Isabela gave Marian a hug. It was going to take a lot more than an apology for Fenris. He was going to have to learn to trust her all over again. But right now, he couldn't think that far. "Do you think the father of your child knows?" he wondered, startling everyone.
"I..." Marian sat back down. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Does anyone know if the Knight-Captain is a vengeful man?" Fenris asked.
Marian groaned and tilted her head back to squint at the ceiling. "Nothing is secret with you guys."
"I wouldn't know about that," Isabela smiled. "I know one or two things that none of you do." She looked at Fenris speculatively and the elf shifted on the balls of his feet. He was never drinking with the woman again. Wine tended to loosen his tongue too much.
"I'm not sure you could say he is vengeful," Nathaniel said, ignoring the by-play of the others. "I do know he was posted at the Ferelden circle at the same time Anders was. The man went through a horrible time of it before he was transferred here. A group of blood mages tried to take over the circle. They imprisoned him. He didn't come out of it well."
"So we have Blondie taken to the Gallows and we have the Knight-Commander and maybe the Knight-Captain with a grudge against Hawke and Blondie," Varric summed up.
"So we have nothing," Fenris stated. "We need information. We need Anders' contacts inside the Gallows to find out what they intend to do with him, and where he is being kept."
Isabela took out one of her daggers and began to clean her nails. "I have to say, Fenris, I'm surprised you are even considering helping Anders. I would have thought that you'd be all for leaving him where he belongs. You know, locked up for his own good."
Fenris gritted his teeth against the pirate's too knowing smile. Never drinking with her again. The woman was a menace.
Having made her point to Fenris, Isabela sheathed her dagger and got to her feet. "Well. I know where I'm going. The Blooming Rose is filled to their hedonistic rafters with templars. I'm on a first name basis with most of the employees. I'll see what I can find." She grinned at Howe. "Care to join me? No one knows you in Kirkwall. You might be able to find something out I can't."
Marian rolled her eyes. The Rose was the last place where Isabela needed help finding information. She practically owned the place.
Varric grinned as Isabela and Howe left. "Poor bastard." He took a large drink from the tankard in front of him, forgotten when Marian had burst into the room. "You and I are going to get a hold of your brother, Hawke. We'll have to be careful, though. They're sure to be watching him now."
"And my occupation?" Fenris didn't like feeling this way. The night before, he and Anders had come to some sort of understanding. What that was, the elf couldn't say. He didn't hate the man anymore, that much was true. But thoughts and feelings beaten into from his remembered lifetime reared its head. The rest of Thedas confused him. The Imperium was so different,-the circles a joke-that he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the plight of the mages here. All he knew was that if someone wanted freedom badly enough, they would make a deal with a demon in order to get it.
Fenris was finding he couldn't blame them for the sentiment. Even if he did blame them for the act.
"You get to do what you do best, Broody," Varric said as he chuckled. "You get to go and scare some mages. Get them to tell you who Blondie's contacts are. I'd start with Darktown."