[Author's note: This chapter is written from Anders POV]
…
Four weeks ago.
"I should have gone with him." I sound worried even to my own ears as I watch the ship depart. Am I fretting? I suppose I might be, because the look that Wynne gives me is far too filled with sympathy. She is probably going to hug me, and then I am probably going to make a fool of myself and say something I regret, and…
"Do you trust him?" Wynne asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"I do. But sometimes I wonder if he trusts me, not that he should, not with me spending years going behind his back and lying to him and…" Andraste's ass, it didn't even take a hug. Just a sympathetic touch. I must be closer to cracking that I thought. Better smile and put the mask back on.
"Anders," she cautions, reaching up to turn my head around so I had to look down at her instead of at the ship growing ever smaller on the horizon. "That look did not work on me in the past, and it won't work on me in the present. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," I say, because what can I say? I really don't. But she's giving me that look which means that if I don't, she'll keep hounding me for weeks until I crack and confess. Sometimes I long to tell her that I am not a pimpled teenager anymore, prone to stay up all night and write subversive poems to stick into random books in the library when depressed. I'm an adult now, I do other things. Like getting drunk. Or having sex. Neither of which has much allure now that Hawke is not here.
"Let's take the long way back," she suggests, her voice gone soft as if she had read my mind. Luckily she's about the last person I'd imagine being a blood mage. "I want to se how the tunnels are holding up under the expansion."
We walk in silence for a little, and then the seclusion of the chill tunnels makes me open my mouth. Talking. As she knew I would.
"I worry about him," I start, because that's not something anybody could miss. Except possibly Hawke, but sometimes he's blind to the little things. "He's changed."
"People do change," she says, smiling slightly as she pauses, her staff lighting up to survey a crack in the tunnel wall. "Even doddering old women like me."
"You are neither doddering, nor that old," I protest, running a hand along the crack. Fire and ice came easily to me, and lightning is second nature, but stone was always my nemesis. I can't sense whether the crack is just a sign of shifting temperatures, or a dangerous flaw that can bring the whole tunnel down. Sometimes Hawke is like stone to me, impossible to read.
"We will have to see about having this section braced," she fills in, sparing me the indignity of asking. "Have you told him that you worry?"
"Not in so many words?" I try, but she won't buy my smile. "I don't know how. Things… happened in Tevinter. Not so very nice things most likely. He never talked about them."
"Neither did you," she points out, the one that guessed too much. But without proof and accusations there was little she could do but being there when I needed it. Maker, it feels like a lifetime ago.
"But we have already established that I am an idiot," I joke, shaking my head. "It's probably nothing. But I wish I was there. I should be."
"Why did you stay then, if you are so sure you should be with him?" Wynne leaned a little on her staff, watching my face.
"Because he asked me to stay," I start, but I can see that she is not buying it. I sigh and admit; "Because he's right. It's the blighted truth even if I wish it wasn't. If there is a way to get Bethany and Merrill out, Hawke and Zevran can do it. I would just be in the way, and a liability. And…" this was the part I hated to confess, but it had been giving me indigestion for the last few days, so I'd better get it out there. "I have other things I need to focus on. This… this place here is important. I can't just abandon it and run off for my own selfish reasons."
"I never thought I'd hear you say those words," Wynne teased. "Whatever happened to that selfish boy who was only in it for himself?"
"He fell in with the wrong crowd," I say, and the smile is the truth this time and not a mask. "And grew up. Eventually. Sort of..."
"And a good thing that is, because from the look of things you'll have a few more issues to sort out right now." Wynne nodded down the tunnel, where Jowan and two of the newcomers were rapidly approaching, arguing heatedly. "Go solve the crisis. Stop worrying. And if you ever feel the need to really talk, you know where my room is."
"I do. And Wynne? Thank you." Maybe one day I might even take her up on it. One day.
Not today.
…
Three weeks ago.
"No!" My scream sends startled cats fleeing from my bed. With Hawke away they leapt at the opportunity to sleep on top of me, something to which he had always objected. No pets in bed might be a sound policy when it came to mabaris the size of a grown man, but cats were a different thing. He'll come around.
He's not here.
I press my hands against my face, trying to remember my dream. With Justice gone, I'm once more at the full mercy of my nightmares, both circle and warden related. At least there are not many darkspawn out at sea, but there was a sense of something… approaching? In the tunnels and the dark. Another blighted deep road nightmare.
Probably nothing.
It takes me a few minutes to coax the cats back to bed.
…
One week ago.
"I am going after him," I sound more than a little bit frantic even to my own ears. "I should never have let him go alone."
"I still think you should speak with Wynne," Jowan cautions, giving me one of those looks that makes me want to slap him upside the head.
"If I speak with Wynne, she will talk me out of it," I explain, because really, he should understand how that worked by now. He knew Wynne, even if she had dealt more with advanced students than with mere apprentices. Maker, Jowan had never even passed his Harrowing before turning to blood magic, and why was I judging him again? The Harrowing was a templar tool, nothing more. And we were all in this together.
"And you think I will quietly go along with your madness?" he asks, giving me another look.
"Yes," I exclaim happily. "That is exactly what I think. I will go with one of the small fishing boats that are heading out for supplies, after that I can make my own way."
"And you are telling me this why?" His gaze is so deeply suspicious it is almost endearing. Almost.
"Because I need you to explain to Wynne once I'm gone." Really, it is so obvious he should have guessed it already.
"Anders, no offense, but a dozen mabaris couldn't drag me down to Wynne's room to explain to her that our erstwhile leader of the revolution is going hiking through the Starkhaven countryside alone and in the middle of winter."
"When you put it like that it doesn't sound very sensible I suppose." It's not mature to pout but I do it anyway.
"Trust me to know not sensible when I see it," Jowan said darkly. "It is a specialty of mine."
"Fine. I'll stay." And the clump in my stomach keeps growing heavier. Where are you Hawke? Are you safe?
Please be safe.
…
Now.
"What do you mean there is a ship out there? Is it Isabela already?" I take the stairs two steps at a time, and it is only luck that keeps me from tumbling the rest of the way.
"No, it is far too small," Jowan says, though he almost has to shout it since I have outpaced him down the stairs.
"Do we have any smaller skiffs unaccounted for?" I ask, because there shouldn't be. The weather has been so bad lately that we've kept them in harbor.
"No," he gasps, and I halt so he can catch up. "But they seem to know the way in. They might be raiders. Or friends of raiders."
"Let us be prepared for the worst then," I say, gripping my staff a bit harder.
It would almost be a relief to have something to fight, the combat training I was putting the willing mages through wasn't really enough to make me break a sweat. I hadn't realized how much fighting had become second hand to me until now. I always used to say I was a healer, not a fighter, but somewhere along the way I had become one without even realizing it. Perhaps Justice's influence. Trying to teach my fellow mages to remain focused while being pelted with rocks wasn't really like facing down a shoreline filled with Tal-Vashoth.
Andraste's shining sword, those were the days.
By the time we reached the harbor, enough people had scrambled from the lookout's signal that I had no problems arranging a suitable reception should out visitors turn out to be hostile. The ship was close enough now that I could see it riding lightly on the waves, there couldn't be more than a dozen people onboard at the most. Probably less. But even a dozen experienced raiders could tear a swathe through our untried forces, so I pulled back everybody not essential to the defense, then left Jowan in charge of the rest. No need to risk people needlessly, especially people I could not trust to keep their heads cool.
Was I spoiling for a fight? Maker, yes. Was I just a little bit reckless, standing there alone, staff in hand as the ship made its way inside the cave? Probably. But it made for a striking image, and the people on the boat would be less cautious if they were only greeted by a single man.
"Anders!" That was a cry I had not expected, and neither had I accounted for the fact that one of the passengers on the ship wouldn't even wait for the gangway to be pushed out before dropping down on the stone and run to meet me.
"Sigrun?" I probably sound as stunned as I am, because I had not expected to see the dwarf ever again. She was one of the ones I'd missed the most when I ran out on the wardens, there was just something so inherently cheerful about the little Legion of the Dead scout. Even if she made me feel like an exhibit at times since she was so curious about my magic.
"I should punch you for running out on us, but it's been long enough that I stopped being angry, and Nathaniel warned me that these days you are apparently a scary possessed creature prone to strike me down at a moment's notice, but like I told him, what would be the difference compared to what we normally face? Not that I would ever hug a broodmother. But I am hugging you." And that she did.
To my surprise I dropped down on one knee to do it properly.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, a million reasons running through my head, but in the end there can only be one thing. Warden business. Me. "No, wait, how did you know I was here?" I ask instead, because if the Wardens knew… some of their members were former Templars. That is enough to make my blood run cold.
"King Alistair told us," another voice clarifies, and my blood isn't just running cold, it is now freezing.
"Nathaniel." I let go of Sigrun and rises to my feet, because as short as she is, as tall is Nathaniel Howe. And a lot less cheerful. Not that he doesn't have reason to be more than a little cross with me considering…
The punch hits me straight in the face, and to my credit I only stagger backwards because I still have my shields raised from when I prepared for combat.
"He might punch you though," Sigrun supplies helpfully, and then the air erupts in flames.
"You keep your dirty hands off Anders," one of the young mages scream, and chaos ensues as untrained magic clashes against Grey Warden defenses. Sigrun drops in a roll, the flames not fazing her in the slightest, but Nathaniel reaches for his bow…
"No!" I scream, blanketing the cave in frost. Flames sputter, people slow, and even Nathaniel pauses with an arrow halfway nocked. "Stand down. There are no enemies here."
People stagger backwards as the air warms, looking at me in awe and confusion. Andraste's ample bosoms, I did not need any more hero worship from impressionable young mages. I really didn't.
"I'm sorry," the mage blushes, and I see that it is Ava. I make a note to have Wynne have a talk with her about thinking before casting. The whole being responsible thing is something she can handle far better than me.
"Oh it's fine," Sigrun says, brushing herself off. "They were fine flames. Lovely really. Feels a lot nicer than darkspawn magic, I didn't know they could do it, but they made even fire feel filthy."
"Since when did the dead care about filthy?" I ask her, mostly to avoid looking at Nathaniel.
"Oh just because I am dead doesn't mean I can't have standards," she says, then punches me lightly in the leg. "We need to talk. Privately."
"Yes, of course…" I find myself floundering, and settle for giving Jowan a wave. "I'm going to have a chat with my… old friends, you make sure to give the sailors something to warm them up, alright? Not fire, obviously, but I don't think they would say no to a hot meal, right? Right. This way now…" Maybe if I don't stop talking, Nathaniel will stop glowering at me.
A vain hope, but right now it is all the hope that I have.
"Lead the way," he says at last, no apologies offered for the punch. We both know I deserve far worse.
…
"It's a nice little place you've got here," Sigrun says once we've made ourselves comfortable in my office. "Feels homey. Lots of stone."
"The last owners were a bit hard on it, but nothing a bit of elbow grease won't fix." I busy myself clearing off papers and maps, I don't think they are here to spy, but years of paranoia are not something I can just forget.
"And you've got yourself a lot of people ready to fight for you," she adds, walking around the room, poking and prodding. Never still. Rarely quiet.
Nathaniel on the other hand just stands there watching me. I don't watch him.
"I'm sorry about that. We were expecting raiders, not wardens. This is supposed to be a secret base after all." Maybe my voice is hard, but I didn't expect to be betrayed like this. Maybe we were wrong in trusting the king.
"King Alistair is a nice man, and he trusted that our business were urgent enough that we wouldn't ask for you lightly." Sigrun pauses, and finally sits down. "It's been a crazy few years Anders, but none crazier than the last one."
"I… can actually agree on that," I start, busying myself with bringing them some wine and bread, mostly leftovers but I don't want to go down and stir up the people in the kitchen. Let's see what they want with me first.
"We need you to come back." Nathaniel speaks again, and I should probably flinch from his tone but I've spent years around Fenris and grown immune to people's dislikes.
"I will not," I reply, pouring him a glass of wine. He does not take it, so I empty it myself instead.
"What tall and grumpy means," Sigrun offers, grabbing her goblet before I can drink that too. "… is that something really bad is happening, and you are the only one that might have any answers to why."
"Thank you for that vote of confidence in my abilities," I say quite coldly, "But the answer is still no."
"It is about Knight Commander Meredith," Nathaniel says, and my hand grabs the goblet just a little bit harder.
"She is dead, I fail to see how that would concern me anymore." I can still feel the heat coming off her semi molten body, unsure whether it's Lyrium or the flames of her hatred that burned against my skin.
"We stole her sort of corpse from Kirkwall," Sigrun supplies happily, "For research. Because of all that Lyrium that was just plain wrong."
"That's why you were in the deep roads," I say, looking at Nathaniel. "Searching for the Primeval Thaig. Hawke told me he met Grey Wardens down there, and from his description it sounded like you."
"We were told by our allies that it would be safe by then."
"Oh from what Hawke told me, you didn't seem exactly… safe. More like on the verge of being slaughtered by darkspawn." Maybe I am rubbing things in, but it is worth it to see a glint of anger behind that cold mask.
"Well," Sigrun interrupts before Nathaniel can explode. "It turns out that crazy old darkspawn didn't mean that it would be empty of enemies, just that whatever was down there had been taken away already." She smiles a little as she eats; she has managed to work through most of the food by now. "And they didn't have any dwarves with them, which is just stupid when going underground because you people just don't have any stone-sense. At all."
"The idol." I run a hand over my face, not liking what I am hearing.
"Yes. We spent too much time tracking it down," Nathaniel continues, "We only realized too late whom the buyer was."
"So did we," I say, and with deep regret. If we had, so much might have been different.
"So we were still around when you started blowing things up," Sigrun says, "Nathaniel here rushed off, and managed to see the whole thing. I wish I had. Crazy wandering statues sounds like an awesome way to go as far as deaths are concerned!"
"You were there?" I ask Nathaniel, but he simply gives me the smallest shrug possible.
"He certainly was," Sigrun says instead of him. "And when you all left and the Templars scattered to pacify the city, we snuck in and stole that glowing corpse-thing that used to be the Knight Commander. Honestly, she must have been worth a fortune!"
"Sigrun," Nathaniel cautions, and I am glad because I am feeling increasingly nauseous, remembering things I would rather have forgotten.
"You wanted the Lyrium." My words are drier than the bread. "Do you have any idea of the risks…?"
"Some," Nathaniel interrupts. "Clearly not enough." He looks disturbed, and I feel a sting of concern.
"What happened?" I ask, being sucked in despite myself. This is Meredith, even dead the woman continues to hound me.
"Nothing at first," Sigrun says. "And then it began to move."
"Move?"
"A hand at first," Nathaniel continues, the horror clearly written on his face if you know how to read him. "Then a leg. Nobody could be sure how, but we locked it in the deepest dungeons of Vigil's keep just to make sure. Now… it… she… is pacing the room. One step at a time. Very, very slowly."
"Andraste's scattered ashes," I curse, all color drained from my face. "Has she said anything?"
"No," Sigrun says, "Not a word. And it takes her about half a day to circle the cell, and it's not a big one. But it has all the mages in a huffle, because they can't even begin to make sense of what this is, and they all know who this is. And don't even start on the Templars, those that are still in the order."
"You still have Templars in the order?" I ask, voice hard. I don't need Justice for anger it seems.
"No," Nathaniel says harshly. "We have Grey Wardens. What we were before is not important; this was the harshest lesson I had to learn."
"It's not that simple," I say, sighing as I refill my glass. "So why do you want me?"
"You were there when the relic was discovered. You explored that place better than we ever could," Nathaniel says, indifferent to the look of pain on my face. "You conversed with the demons dwelling down there. You are intimately familiar with the machinations of Knight Commander Meredith, and you were instrumental in putting her down in the first place."
"I did not do that on my own," I protest.
"You are not alone now," Sigrun says, smiling at me. "Oh, come on Anders, it will be like old times. Solve a mystery. Defeat an ancient evil. Save the world. Bickering every step of the way."
"I have responsibilities here…" I protest, but in my mind I already hear steps echoing down in the dark. Meredith, Could I ever sleep soundly again?
"We are prepared to take you by force if needed," Nathaniel says evenly, making Sigrun roll her eyes.
"Nathaniel Howe, that is not helping!"
"I'm not the man you knew Nathaniel," my smile is faint and almost threatening. Maker's breath, when did I turn into someone that could threaten people? "You will not find that as easy as you might imagine. And you two are alone, on an island filled with mages and their kin. I doubt that they would let you take me peacefully."
"He's got a point," Sigrun said, nabbing the last piece of bread in case things would turn ugly. "That girl down there nearly fried my eyebrows when you punched him."
"If they tried to stop it, they would get hurt. I do not believe that Anders would allow that, no matter how much he has changed."
"You are a hard man, Nathaniel Howe." But inside I am almost grateful that at least he still thinks kindly enough of me not to believe I would sacrifice others just to stay safe myself.
"I have reasons to be," he answers, and the look he gives me makes me cringe back. Just a little bit. Guilt.
What should I do? I wanted nothing more than to flee after Hawke, pretending I didn't have to worry about making decisions like this ever again. But I couldn't run because I had responsibilities, and as terrifying as the prospect is, those same responsibilities means that I have to find out what has become of Meredith. She is potentially as great a threat as the Divine herself, and if the Wardens got it into their head to try to use her, or worse… no. I have to go there. I have to make sure she is destroyed, and every last piece of that cursed Lyrium is sunk back into the bowels of the earth.
But my help would not come cheap.
"If I come, it will be at a cost." I try to sound as if I might still refuse them, which is not hard because I still balk of the thought of returning to Vigil's Keep. "There is a witch hunt out there. Mages are being hunted down and killed, or captured. You Wardens are better placed than most to see this. If I am helping you, you will help me." I take a deep breath, not looking away from Nathaniel. "I want the Wardens who come across mages or their sympathizers on the run to help them. Give the word that if they can run to Ferelden, King Alistair can help them get to safety." The King had dumped this mess in my lap, it was only fair to dump something back for him.
"The Wardens deal with bigger threats than the conflict between Mages and Templars," Nathaniel starts, but I interrupt.
"Yes, you do. And in order to get help for that… bigger threat, you will need to have to suck it up and put your foot down. The Warden Commander made a deal with the Architect for the greater good of humanity, am I really more terrible than a darkspawn?" I should make a joke that at least I have better hats than him, but remembering some of the ones I wore back in Ferelden that would be a dirty lie.
"Jamail Amell is not the Warden Commander anymore," Sigrun says. "He made a run for it a few months after you did. Something about going off to find his witch. He never came back so eventually they got some Orlesian to replace him. Didn't last long that poor sod."
"So who is in charge then?" I ask.
"Oh, you didn't know? He is." Sigrun nods at Nathaniel, who has the grace to look thoroughly uncomfortable with the whole situation.
"You… are the Commander of the Grey?"
"Yes," he admits.
"Andraste's knickerweasels, I never saw that one coming." Though in retrospect perhaps I should have. Whatever his father had done. Nathaniel was still a noble and used to being in command. Not to mention that his appointment might mollify the parts of Ferelden still convinced that Howe and Loghain was right.
"Thank you," Nathaniel says dryly.
"But that means that I can get an answer right away. You help me out. I help you out. We all walk away happily." Or as happily as things ever could get in situations like this.
"You told me that once before," he says, eyes hard.
"I'm a different man now," I say, shrugging innocently.
"We'll see about that," comes the reply, and I can hear that he doubts me but that he is going to say yes.
He's going to say yes, and I am going to leave with him and go back to Vigil's Keep and end this nightmare once and for all.