Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! To everyone who has reviewed, put this story on their alerts and are reading!
A/N: In the future I might do a prequel to this story of Cullen and Marian. I haven't decided yet, though.
Cullen grabbed Anders by the hand and pulled him away from Meredith. The ground nearest to her erupted and they both staggered as the earth shook. He steadied the mage next to him and half dragged the man towards Hawke. Meredith had seemed unsteady for a long time now, but Cullen had not understood the magnitude of what was wrong. As the man who was second only to Meredith in the Gallows, he berated himself for not having seen it before. It was his duty to make sure that nothing like this happened. His own men had been constantly undermined for reasons that Cullen couldn't ever see. Blood mages and abominations were rampant in Kirkwall to a degree that he'd never witnessed before. Considering his own past, he should have known something wasn't right. There was an evil in this city, simmering just below the surface. Cullen hadn't realized it had always been under his nose.
As he and Anders approached, a white haired elf lifted the largest greatsword Cullen had ever seen, and snarled at him. "Let him go!" A blue light enveloped the elf's hands as he shifted his stance to better heft the massive weapon.
Cullen let go of Anders and ripped his helmet off. He dropped it to the ground with a clang. "Take him! He doesn't have access to his powers." He pulled his sword free and pushed passed the elf, his steps determined and carrying him towards Marian. He yanked off the gauntlet from his free hand and reached out to her. His bare fingertips touched her cheek and her mouth fell open as she lowered her staff.
"Cullen..." she whispered.
"Did you really think so little of me?" he asked, as if they weren't surrounded by hundreds of templars who would gladly take their heads. He didn't give her a chance to reply before his lips were on her's. The kiss was fleeting, a quick touch of shared breath. He pulled back and gave her a small smile at the startled look in her eyes.
"I-" was all she got out before she looked behind him. "Maker preserve us," she breathed.
When the first statue came to life, Anders found himself thrust behind Fenris and Nate. The two of them became a thorny wall of arrows and steel. "I can't heal you!" he shouted over the pounding of the earth as the statue hit the courtyard and sent cobblestones spraying. he considered asking Cullen to remove the smite, but he hesitated. Justice would not stand idle if there was a chance to kill templars-especially Meredith. He reached into his robes and pulled out the half finished healing potion and downed the rest.
He'd always known that Meredith was insane, but he hadn't known the extent. Bartrand was in a care facility, the best that Varric's money could buy. The man wasn't going to recover-and neither would Meredith.
"The Maker guides me in this!" she cried. She lifted her sword and pointed at at them. "You offend with your very existence. Blood mages and abominations abound in this city. Each time I look, your name is mentioned, Champion. I will cleanse this city, beginning with you and any you have corrupted."
"Stop!" Anders felt his eyes go wide when the First Enchanter came running out of the Gallows, his hands and staff raised. Behind him, mages came pouring out. "Do not do this thing, Meredith." He took a step back when she turned on him and he saw her eyes.
"You do not presume to tell me what to do, First Enchanter. Take your mages and return to your rooms."
In a surprising show of strength, he shook his head. "No. You can't kill innocent people. I won't allow it."
Meredith laughed and she swung her sword around towards him. "You won't allow it? Do you align yourself with the Champion then? I know you have met with her on several occasions. Maybe you would rather she run unchecked."
"Meredith," he pleaded, "this isn't you. That sword... I've always felt something wrong with it. I've told you that. You must relinquish it." Some of the more daring mages skirted around the templars and stood among Hawke and her friends. Anders wanted to tell them to run, to take the chance when it was offered and get away.
Meredith noticed it as well and she sneered at Orsino. "You leave me no choice. If you are not with me, then you are against me. I do not need the chantry's permission for it. I am the authority here and the Maker whispers to me."
Orsino shook his head and held out his hands in supplication. "Do no-"
"I call for the Right of Annulment! This circle shall be cleansed and the city with it!"
Fenris flew backwards as Meredith slammed her power into him. His side hit the remains of one of the living statues, and his breath left him in a rush. He pressed a hand to the ground and gasped for air. They couldn't keep this up. Without Anders to heal them, their group was fading fast. They'd had to go through templars and mages alike to get to Meredith. Some of the mages had turned to blood magic in their fright, changing into abominations that had scorched the courtyard as they died.
"Get up, Fenris." Merrill helped him get to his feet and shoved another health potion into his hand.
Aveline had come with the guard as soon as the first explosion had rocked the Gallows. No one had wanted to involve her in what they were doing, but she had come anyway. She was the last of the guard standing, and with her shield raised high against the monstrosity that Meredith had become, she looked like a hero in a chantry window come to life. She had become the buffer between Meredith and the others. Fenris was next in line and his sword kept the statues from getting to the others. Behind him, the mages and rogues stood. They were the support, and they threw everything they had at Meredith and the metal monsters she brought to life.
But they had no healer.
Anders had begged Cullen to recast the smite, before the templar had left with a group of his men to see to the safety of the mages that had stayed inside. If Fenris hadn't seen it for himself, he would have accused anyone that had told him of it of lying. The mage had feared what Justice would do if he was finally released, and no one wanted to try and contend with the spirit.
At least, not yet.
It also left Anders vulnerable, and without a healer, the others were reliant on other mages and healing potions. The other mages had either died or ran off a long time ago.
Fenris ripped the cork out of the flask with his teeth and drank the potion. An arrow flew by his shoulder and he turned to see the last of the statues rumbling towards him. The barbed tip of the arrow took a chunk out of the statue, but it kept coming. "Merrill!"
"On it!" A glyph shone under the statue and it froze in its tracks. Fenris shimmered, phasing between worlds as he lifted his sword and rushed towards the paralyzed statue. He gave a great cry and put his whole body into his swing. His sword bit deep and cut into the thing's neck, taking the head off.
Nathaniel had lectured him the night before on the necessity of keeping his rage in check. He'd cautioned him not to engage in battle if he could help it. Fenris had made his decision, though. He would protect Anders and the others, no matter what the cost.
He ducked as the statue swiped at him and he took one of its arms, chopping it off at the elbow. Battle-lust and adrenaline rushed through his veins and his world narrowed down. Everything slowed to a crawl and he knew what was happening. His movements became rote, his mind slipping away to only the sword in his hands and the enemy in front of him.
He didn't hear Merrill's voice calling to him until the statue was nothing but twisted metal at his feet. Everything came rushing back in. Sound and light grew as the world snapped back into place. He turned to see the others standing around a kneeling Meredith. The Knight-Commander was blackened and still as the statues that she's had fight for her.
Hawke stayed behind at the Gallows to help make some sort of sense of what had happened that day. Cullen had practically marched her inside while he called for a healer to come and evaluate her. Anders hadn't wanted to let her go, and he'd felt his gut clench in dread as he watched her walk inside the one place he had never wanted to see her go.
Half of the mages and knights had died. A quarter of the mages had ran. There would be ramifications from what had happened, but no one wanted to even think that far ahead yet. They needed to count and mourn the dead first. There was no question that Meredith was at fault for what what had transpired. Cullen assured them that he would launch an investigation, but he wasn't going to hold anyone but Meredith responsible. He seemed years older in just a span of a day. The weight of his new responsibilities were already showing in the lines on his brow.
Anders felt cravenly as he asked for one more smite from the man. He couldn't keep this up. Justice was going to reassert his place in Anders mind, and the mage was afraid of what would happen when he did. He needed to disappear again. Maybe take himself off before Justice knew that they were no longer in Kirkwall. A smite didn't last forever, but if he was quick, he could get himself far enough away before the spirit came back.
Nathaniel had other plans, though.
The second they disembarked, the man clapped a hand on Anders shoulder and steered him towards Lowtown. "Going somewhere?" he asked mildly. Anders would have balked if Fenris hadn't placed himself on his other side. The two of them were leading him towards the Hanged Man. He was exhausted, as he was sure they all were, but Anders hadn't eaten in days and a potion only took care of so much. Still, he tried to shake off the hand on his shoulder, only to have Fenris clamp down on his other one.
"I need to get to my clinic." Anders looked from one man to the other. "I've been gone for days. Who knows what state it's in."
"Is that why you were walking in the other direction?" Fenris asked. "Or is that a new route you take that I don't know about?" His lips twitched when Anders stomach gave off a large gurgle. "You need food and I've seen what you have to offer at the clinic. You always give it away."
Before he knew it, they were inside the Hanged Man and the room Nate had rented for his stay in Kirkwall. They pushed him down in a seat and stood before him, their arms crossed. Anders didn't like this united front thing the two of them were doing. He needed them to understand it was dangerous for him to be here.
"Not that I don't appreciate the whole rescue thing, but I can't stay here." He tried to get to his feet, only to have Nate push him back down again. "I mean it," he gritted out. "I don't know what Justice is going to be like when my connection to the fade comes back. I can't be around people when he does. I shouldn't even be in this city."
"Good thing we won't be here long then," Nate said. "We're leaving first thing in the morning."
"No! You don't understand. I can't be around anyone." He grabbed at the hair on the back of his head and pulled in frustration. "These last few days without Justice in my thoughts... He's changed, Nate, I see that now. The things he wants me to do..."
"I can imagine," Nate said dryly. "He was never meant to survive as long as he has outside the fade. But we'll deal with that when it comes. I'm sorry, Anders, I have to take you back. The Warden-Commander is going to want to talk to you." His arms went slack at his sides. "I'll see about getting some food for all of us."
On his way out, he turned and looked at Fenris. "Tell him. It might make him change his mind."
Fenris could have killed Howe as the door shut behind him. "Tell me what?" His eyes jerked towards Anders and then moved away again.
"I'll be going with you."
"Excuse me?" Anders said. "You can't come with me. Why would you even want to? I mean, I know the danger and the darkspawn is attractive, but I don't even want to go." As he spoke, Fenris pulled off his gauntlets. Anders' voice stuttered to a halt while he watched Fenris bare skin that he didn't often reveal. The elf reached up and undid the clasps that held his armor in place, baring his collarbone and chest.
"Andraste's tits!" Anders jumped to his feet and his hands hovered over Fenris' skin. Dark lines of sludge crept their way up the elf's body just under his flesh. They showed in stark relief against his lyrium brands. "Anders' hand began to shake. "How long?"
"Five days now. Howe thinks I will be able to make it to Vigil's Keep for the Joining," Fenris said softly. "He's told me I might not survive it, even if I get that far."
"He wasn't suppose to tell you that," Anders choked out. "Warden secrets and all."
"I know. But I am dead if I don't go." Fenris saw Anders' fingers twitch before they rested on the elf's chest. He traced the lines the taint was making and Fenris sucked in an imperceptible breath. Neither of them spoke and the logs crackled in the fireplace, the only other sound in the room besides their slow breaths.
Anders couldn't bear the thought that Fenris might die. This was different than going into battle. Fenris was deadly, one of the most skilled swordsman that Anders had ever seen. The Joining wasn't wasn't something you could protect yourself against. The darkspawn blood took indiscriminately. Anders had watched a woman he'd seen wade in darkspawn blood and come out the victor, drop dead from the Joining.
Anders still wasn't sure why he had survived.
When Fenris didn't stop his fingers' exploration, he pressed his palms fully on the elf's chest. he could feel the thudding of Fenris' heart and Anders' eyes flicked up and held his. Carefully, to give Fenris a chance to back away, Anders moved forward. His head tilted down and he stopped, their lips a hair's breadth from touching. Fenris' lips parted and his eyes became hooded. Anders could feel the elf's heart beating faster and he slid his palms up the column of Fenris' throat to rest his fingers on the back of his head. There were so many things he wanted to say to Fenris. The words clamored to get out and choked him into silence.
It was Fenris who closed the distance between, their lips coming together in a light kiss that just brushed along his skin. Anders sucked in a surprised breath through his nose. It was tentative tasting, the kiss more of a question than an answer.
The door creaked and Fenris pulled away, the spell broken. Anders reached out and made a small sound of denial in the back of his throat. The elf turned away and stood in front of the fire, his back to the door and Anders. Fenris' fingers were clumsy as they redid the clasps to his amour. He could smell food wafting through the room and heard the sound of plates being set down. He closed his eyes and willed his body to calm down. Blood roared in his ears and he felt lightheaded.
Several weeks ago he had confided to Isabela that he found the mage attractive. It was something he had said in a drunken haze, and only remembered it because the woman had not let it go. He turned his head just enough to look at Anders over his shoulder. He was digging into his food with the enthusiasm of the starving. He'd hated Isabela for her teasing. The thought of wanting a mage was abhorrent. But he wasn't the same person he was a week ago, and he was starting to see that the woman might have known something all along.
"I'll come, Nate," Anders said once be polished off his second bowl of stew. He pointed at the warden with his spoon. "I meant it, though, when I said I don't know what Justice will do. I only have a few hours left before my connection to the fade comes back."
"Then we leave the city," Fenris said as he turned, composed once more. "We stay the night on the Wounded Coast. Let the demon come."
