Author's Note:

Hi to all my readers! Sorry this chapter took a day or so longer to post than the others. I was in a quandary as to how the fic would go from here on out as I never really like to have a SET IN STONE type of plot. But I've figured it out and things should be back to an update every day or two! Thanks for being so patient and for reading this far!

Dene.

Chapter Fourteen: Illumination

Our trips to the library became more frequent as the birth of Refin's child neared. We had but a month left and she was no nearer to finding the cure to the Call of the Wardens. She found mentions of it in passing, but never any instruction as to how it was done. She read of great heroes who had overcome their Calling, some who had ignored it entirely and died only when their hair was a wizened grey. Days at a time, hour after hour she poured over countless tomes and scrolls, but still nothing.

Whenever we were there Kaith was too, as he rarely let Refin out of his sight now. She explained away her research with simple child-like curiosity about the Wardens; occasionally blending her reading with fables of the Wardens or Darkspawn so as to throw him off her scent. The Magister sometimes would insist on reading aloud to her, pacing back and forth the room as we sat and listened. To him we were but slaves, enthralled by our masters voice; in truth we were hungry for any knowledge the tome might spill. His voice was inconsequential to us.

The moments he did not feel like displaying his literacy prowess, the mage would sit and peruse his own studies. I never got more than a glance at the pages, but saw Tevene lettering and more than a few diagrams. One I saw quite clearly was a cross-section of a man's torso and arms; shaded skin allowed the brilliance of the parchment to shine through in crisp lines. It took a moment to realise that it was my markings drawn on the page. The notebook itself written in Danarius' hand. As that comprehension struck me, I found myself suddenly wanting it for myself. To read Danarius' notes would allow me to understand my body better than I could ever figure out on my own. The markings had been worrying me these passing years, though they still worked as they should I couldn't help but wonder if they always would. I had seen lyrium drive Templars and mages mad, knew of the sickness it caused even dwarves who handled it every day. What would having it etched into my skin do to me in the long run? Did it need maintaining? I couldn't recall Danarius ever mentioning such a thing, and in the five years I had served him - that I could remember - he never took me under the knife again to correct them or enhance them in any way.

Kaith tucked the book back into its place and I made sure to note its location. When the time came for Refin and I to flee, I would collect the notes. If anyone could make sense of the magic mentioned in the pages Hawke could.

The evening fell and once again Kaith was listening to a petition from some Soporati man. The lowly man was asking permission of the Magister to marry a mage of Laetan class. Since her father was dead and no man accountable for her, it was deemed the Magister of her district owned her. The woman had been born a Soporati but was a late-bloomer into her magic, or so the suitor said. They were teenage sweethearts, but when her magic arrived at age fourteen her family had been elevated to Laetan, thus making their relationship frowned upon by others.

This was, in Tevene culture, a difficult decision to make. To allow the match would raise the man to his wife's status of Laetan, for his wife is a mage. However it would likely anger her remaining family, the Laetans who feel the man is rising unjustly into power and set a precedent that may lead to multiple Soporati marrying kind-hearted Laetans simply to avoid poverty.

Whether this was Kaith's reasoning or not, he rebuffed the man's proposal. He was sent weeping from the room, carried out by a guard on each arm. From behind the veil on her perch, Refin frowned deeply. The Magister did not see the she-elf raise the back of her fist, middle-finger extended in his direction.

There were a few more people to visit Kaith after his audience with the Soporati was over. Most were simply social calls from other Altus; more than one to take a peek at Refin and I when they thought Kaith wasn't looking. Though we had been in his service a month, Kaith had yet to formally "show us off" as it were. It made me evermore worried he planned something for the birth or to display the child and I once it arrived. What will he do when the child arrives and looks nothing like me? As Alistair is the father, it won't even look elven... I shook my head. There was no need to worry about that. We would escape from Kaith before the child took its first breath. I had promised Refin that.

Socialising out of the way, Kaith gave a sigh of relief when the last mage left. He turned to inspect us both and nodded to himself, seeming to mull something over.

'Fenris, is has been - what - sixteen years since my father crafted those markings?'

'Eighteen, master.' I hissed low. If he heard the anger there he ignored it.

'Right, right.' He straightened his robe sleeves and with his gaze followed the trail of lyrium from my chin to where it sank beneath my chest armour. 'I was just wondering how you're feeling. Are they still as operational? Do you feel nausea or headaches when using them?'

'They work as they did the day I first bore them.' I twisted my gauntlet before my face, looking to my exposed palm and tracing the lines there.

'And they still hurt when magic is exposed to them?'

'Yes.' I was not telling him I'd become accustomed to Hawke's. Personally I would rather have no magic near me at all, if it were not the Champion's. Kaith seemed the sort to want to try and build up my magical immunity.

'I see.' He made a mental note. 'I was also wondering if they needed maintenance of any sort. Did you get the Champion or one of his mages to help in Kirkwall?'

'No, the markings never caused me any difficulty and I used potions for healing when injured.'

Kaith made a positive noise and then sank back into his throne. 'That's good to know.'

'May I speak, master?' Refin's gentle voice came from beneath her shaded canopy.

'Of course, Amatus.' The Magister crooned back, the frown I had was all too real.

'With you speaking of healing, I had a thought.' She continued. 'Our child is due soon, and I would feel more comfortable with my own healer. He cared for me during the beginning of my pregnancy, and I would like him to be the one who delivers for me.'

'If it will make the situation more suitable to your needs, I will do anything.' He gave a small bow in her direction, not getting up from his seat. Her shadow bobbed back. 'Give me his name and where you knew him last. My men will find him.'

'His name is Siegfried.'

It took Kaith's men three weeks to recover the healer Siegfried. Last Refin had heard of him, he dwelt in Ferelden's western forests but it was found he had moved on. By the time they caught him, he was hiding with friends in Val Royeaux. If this were my old life of slavery I would've asked to accompany the men, to prove my worth to my master. But this was Kaith and I was no longer Fenris. I did not question it when he made no mention of my leaving, I was much more content to be by Refin's side and protect her from the Magister.

Those three weeks were like living in the Fade. Both Refin and I grew more restless as each day passed. We were living on time we didn't have. Her stomach was now heavily swollen and she found it difficult to walk long distances. She'd taken to spending most of her time sleeping or crying about our predicament. Though there were hormones to blame, it was more than a little frightening seeing the Warden switch between a sleepy docile state, to lividly furious and threatening to castrate the Fereldan King, only to wash out into a ball of angry tears curled under her sheets. I prayed to the Maker I would not have to be in the room when she finally had the child. I also thanked him that neither I nor Hawke was a woman.

It was late one evening when Siegfried was set to our door.

The Warden-Commander lay sleeping as I rested in the chair by the fire, reading over the ridiculous book I'd found still tucked in my pack. Though it was nothing but baseless smut, it helped a little to distract from the nagging thoughts that Hawke may in fact be dead as Kaith had said. Crowe and Renfis were trapped by their conventions and beliefs, but they were at least trapped in the Circle tower together. Turning the page my eyes widened a little. Isabela had been quite descriptive with Crowe's state of undress, and though Hawke most certainly did not have a mark of the Circle tattooed on his thigh, I couldn't help but see the glorious mage laying before me.

"We're finally safe, Leto. We have a home now."

"All thanks to you." Gently I kissed him. He returned it, though soon it blossomed from sweetness to something more primal. He was growing more impatient and eager. I brought my mouth away to chuckle. "You still need to learn patience, Amatus."

"Screw patience." He pulled me back down and began undoing the ties at my neck. "I've been lying here naked for ten minutes. Off with it!"

"Apologises." I smirked and kissed him deeper this time as he discarded my shirt to the corner. "I have a weakness for admiring Fereldan art."

A knock disturbed me. Quickly I stood and growled with irritation, snatching up my cloak and tying it tightly round my neck, hiding my form beneath. Refin poked her head out from under her mound of blankets, yawning with one a front lock of hair stuck out at an odd angle. Opening the door I slammed it shut again. The elf looked to me with dulled surprise.

'Who is it?' She glanced over my cloaked form, then looked to the roaring fire. 'You cold?'

I changed tact rapidly. 'It's a mage.'

'Is it Siegfried?' She asked, suddenly alert and trying to fight her way out of her cocooned nest.

'No.' I growled as she came over and opened the door again. 'It's-'

'You're here!' The she-elf exclaimed and hugged the guest tightly as she could.

He laughed and drew her close. She tiptoed then, moving some of his long blonde hair from his eyes; her hands and gaze examining every inch of him. The mage smiled happily to her, commenting on how good she looked and how big she'd gotten. She punched him playfully and announced she was expecting, as if it wasn't already obvious. Such open friendship between them turned my stomach. Finally he gazed past the Warden to look at me.

'Fenris.'

'Abomination.'

Refin sighed and turned so she could look at us both. The mage closed the door and slid the lock into place, ensuring our privacy.

'Really boys?' She taunted in a higher pitch. 'You're going to fight, now?'

'Not fight.' I replied, folding my arms beneath my cloak. 'Just ignore.'

'Fenris, I thought we were past this.' He sighed.

'And I thought,' I snapped to the elf, 'that you called for your healer "Siegfried".'

'I did.' She pointed a thumb over her should to Anders. 'He is Siegfried.'

I scowled. 'That is Anders.'

'No, well, yes.' The rogue sighed and made her way back towards the bed. I moved to help her, which earned me a little smile of thanks. 'Anders is Anders, but he is also Siegfried.'

'You remember I spoke of my dislike of the Circle.' Anders took a seat by the fire. I tried not to glance at the little red book on the chair's arm, hoping he wouldn't see it if I didn't make it obvious. 'Well because I refused them my name, they called me "Anders" a shortened form of Anderfels where I had come from. My real name is Siegfried. I told it to the Warden-Commander after she saved my life in Amaranthine. I had nothing to give her except that which I held most precious.'

'Then why did you call him Anders when we spoke of him?' I asked her.

'That's how you knew him.' She shrugged. 'Besides no one but me and his probably-dead parents know he's called Siegfried. If I asked Kaith to find Anders then he'd be onto my plan, or in the very least you would give us away with your glowy sparky thing that you do when you get mad.'

My mouth set in a grim scowl. I discarded the cloak now I no longer needed it. 'You also said you hadn't seen him in two years.'

'She hasn't.' Anders brushed some road dust from the knees of his green robes. 'We've kept in touch through letters, which stopped about two months ago. I grew worried so I fled to Val Royeaux in case our letters had been intercepted. Turns out the two of you got yourselves captured by slavers.'

'Enough of this.' The elf heaved herself back to her feet, seeing the glare the mage and I shared. 'I've got work to do. I'll be back in a little while, you two stay here.'

She fidgeted with her pack, removing a small brown pouch before tucking it out of sight between her breasts and making for the door. Turning at the last moment she fixed us both with a stare of her own. 'Do not kill each other, I need you both alive.'

With that she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her. Though at first I tried to ignore the mage, curiosity got the better of me. It had been four years since I'd last seen him and I wondered what had changed. He seemed a little older, though I supposed we all did. His hair was now swinging free past his shoulders, a small braid at his right temple. He still had a penchant for green, as both his robes and thick cloak where made of varying shades of it. His pauldrons had changed; still feathered but now black and worn outside of his cloak like a ruff of ebon at his neck. He seemed only a little worse for wear, a new scar just across his left cheek and tired purple marks under both eyes. The mage at least appeared well-groomed, his hair and robes pristine and his beard no more than neatly trimmed stubble. I couldn't help but wonder why life seemed to be being so good to the damned apostate.

He looked me over as well, eye catching on the red band still at my wrist. 'So you and Hawke-'

'Happily engaged.' I growled.

'Oh I see.' He fidgeted with the plait in his hair, brown eyes inquisitive. 'Then might I ask where he is?'

'With the Inquisition.' The retort was sharp and biting; filled with the irritation and pain I'd endured since the Champion left. Though Anders probably deserved none of it, it was nice to have a punching bag. 'He disappeared in the middle of the night and went to help them solve the Breach; he said he didn't want to put me in danger. I tried following him the next morning but took the wrong path, now I am here.'

'You never were much of a tracker.' He sniggered and moved to cross his legs over the arm of the chair. 'So do you still glow blue?'

'Do you?'

He gave a shrug. His knee knocked the book and sent it to the floor with a soft thump. The mage leaned over and picked it up.

Andraste damn him...

'I see your reading is better than ever. You've read half of this one.' He skimmed through it, glancing through the places I'd bent the corners to mark my page. Hawke would kill me if he saw that. He was a firm believer in bookmarks. 'You have an interesting choice in material. Some of this is... exquisite.'

'It's Refin's.' I snapped. 'She gave it to me stating Isabela left clues within it about mine and Hawke's real identities, I was curious as to what she had included.'

'Naturally.' Anders glanced up from the page and then to my discarded cloak. 'You were simply "curious".'

'Do not insinuate, mage!'

'I'm not.' He gave the least honest face I'd ever seen, and then chuckled. 'I am a healer you know, Fenris. It's perfectly natural that when you miss your partner you do certain things to-'

I was storming across the room as my lyrium flared. I grabbed him up by the feathered collar of his cloak and growled. 'Silence.'

'So embarrassed by an act of nature and love.' His smirk darkened. 'Is that why Hawke left? Weren't you satisfying him enough, Fenris?'

'SILENCE.'

'If I was his lover he wouldn't be able to walk straight, let alone run off to the Inquisition.'

'I SAID SILENCE, ABOMINATION!'

I reared my arm back, hand caged and ready to plough into his chest. As my fingertips ripped into the cloth at his chest, he fixed my eyes in a determined grin. The blue mist rolled over my vision. I could only see his death. No longer would he torment me, no longer would he be there to taint the world with his magic. The door opened and then closed.

'Maker that took longer than- WHAT IN ANDRASTE'S NAME!' Lithe hands began pulling at my poised arm. 'Leto! Stop! What did I say?!'

I couldn't stop, no matter how much she begged or I tried to reason with myself. This is what I should've done four years ago in Kirkwall. I should've taken the choice from Hawke and slain the abomination at the Chantry ruins.

The hands came away from me as she scrambled for something else. Red bloomed on the tips of my fingers. Anders gave a gasp of pain, trying to grit his teeth against it. There was a sound of someone quickly exhaling and then something caught in my throat. I gagged and clutched my throat, releasing Anders and trying to cough up whatever I'd breathed in. Due to our distance it seemed Anders too had inhaled the dust. He was rubbing at his eyes and spluttering. As my lyrium faded so did my temper. I found myself slumping to my backside on the stone floor, Anders collapsing not too far from me. The she-elf looked down to us with her hands on her hips.

'I swear to the Maker, you two are impossible. How Hawke didn't go mad wrangling you both, a blood-mage and a pirate is beyond me.' She threw her hands up in the air and went to lock the door tightly.

'What-what did you do to us?' I coughed, the dust working its way into my system now and making everything rosy around the edges.

'What I did to Kaith while you two were trying to beat the fenedhis out of each other.' Refin pouted and perched herself on the edge of the bed, watching us intently. 'I'd apologise but it was the only thing to hand, and you were both being morons.'

'What is it?' Anders slurred, his eyes becoming heavy. He was trying to summon healing magic to his hands but it kept spluttering out before he could raise it to his chest.

'Hissra Kadan.' She gave a shrug. Seeing the effects where as she planned them, she moved back to her blankets and nestled herself in once more. 'It won't be as potent since you both breathed it in instead of ingesting it, but it'll keep you both quiet till Kaith's dose is working at full strength.'

'"Hissra Kadan"?' Trying to move was useless. As I shifted myself to the right I toppled over and ended up just laying on the stone on my side. 'You gave us a Qunari drug?'

'Yup.' The rogue snuggled herself in a sitting position so she could keep an eye to us. 'Don't worry I weakened the dose so it's not as strong for humans and elves. Otherwise it'd probably kill you.' She gave a small titter.

'Wha's tha'?' Anders burbled.

'Illusion w-where the heart lies...' I just about managed to groan out.

'Precisely.' Refin nodded. 'It makes your enemy completely docile by tricking their mind into believing they are being attended by their lover.'

'Why do you even have that?' Anders sighed happily, his head coming to lie back on the rug.

'Because I happen to enjoy living. Have you seen a tiny elf against a full-blooded Qunari in combat?' She shuddered. 'Much easier to blow this in his face and kill him while he's smiling. This pouch I saved for Kaith in such an instance that I would need to incapacitate him. The moment was today, but I've had to waste what little was leftover on you two.'

'H-How long will it...'

'A day for Kaith since I slipped it into his wine. Maybe an hour for you two. And before you ask, there's no cure save to ride it out. So I'm going for a nap.' She laid down and within moments was snoring lightly.

The drug was beginning to work its way further into our blood. Anders seemed to be effected more quickly than I was. He was laying on his back, panting lightly and giving a frustrated noise every so often. By the time my own dose began effecting me properly, he was muttering things to himself.

'Hawke, I never meant to... Y-You forgive? Mmmm, Hawke...'

A low growl erupted in my chest but was silenced as a gentle hand curved itself to my cheek, turning my head. He knelt beside me, a soft smile as he always had. No new scars, no battle wounds. Wearing his house-robes and with his hair loose, Garrett was exactly as I remembered him.

'It's ok, Amatus.' The Champion hushed and drew my head into his lap, stroking gently at my hair. 'Anders is just imagining me. I'm yours alone.'

'Garrett, I thought you were-'

'With the Inquisition?'

'Dead...'

He frowned gently, a worried expression. 'No Leto. I'm here with you, and I promise I'll never leave you again.'

My body shivered as he leant down and kissed me. As the mage became more passionate I sat up to fold him into my arms. He held me tightly; his fingers knotting in my hair and mine in his robe. Garrett moved, breaking our kiss and gently pushed me onto my back. I sighed happily as he claimed my mouth once more. He was there. Garrett was alive and with me. All thoughts of demanding explanations and carefully planned lectures fell from my mind as his hands trailed down my sides. Warmth filled my chest and tears fell. He wiped them away, ghosting his lips over my eyes before making a trail of butterfly kisses back to my mouth. Slowly I let everything slip into a blissful darkness.

Author's Note:

I chose Siegfried for Anders' true name as means "Victory" and "Peace" in Germanic (two words one usually associates with "Justice"), and the Anderfels seems at least part based on the culture of Germany.

Siegfried, in legends, killed a dragon and bathed in its blood, gaining immense strength; however he was left vulnerable in a leaf-sized area on his back by accident. I thought this appropriate to Anders as he'd taken another creature's strength (in his case the spirit Justice) and applied to it his own, only for it to have flaws which are eventually his undoing. Additionally Siegfried also had to battle and kill the ice queen Brünhild (whose name means "armour" "battle") to win the hand of the warrior maiden Kriemhild ("mask" "battle"). I kind of like to think of this as Anders having to beat Fenris to win Hawke XD

His legend was largely based on the myth of Sigurd who killed the dragon Fafnir. Some of its blood went into his mouth, allowing him to speak to birds and learn the truth that his foster-father planned to have him killed. So another myth of a man using another creature's blood for strength. I know Anders isn't a blood mage but... well Dragon Age usually hints at blood-magic being the way for someone to join with a demon/spirit even though Anders and Wynne met their spirits by walking in the Fade or having them call to them in times of need.

In case you were wondering about the names Fenris picked for his and Hawke's sons in Chapter Five, both Aurel and Gaius are Latin (as close as I can get to Tevene). Aurel being short for Aurelius, which means "Golden" and Gaius meaning "To rejoice"; celebrating both their children as gifts from the Maker.

TRANSLATIONS (non-canon phrases done by Google Translate, so no doubt very poorly).

1) Soporati. = The lowest rank of the Tevinter populace. The non-magical and those deemed "slaves" are of such a title. Elves (even magical ones) cannot rise above this rank.

2) Laetan. = The middle rank of Tevinter populace. A Laetan is usually one born into magic, though their family was previously non-magical. The plural is Laetans.

3) Altus. = A rank in the Tevinter Imperium. A mage who is from a long lineage of magical blood.

4) Amatus. = Tevene word user for one's lover, literally means "Beloved" or "Darling".

5) Fenedhis. = Elven swear, possibly means "cr*p".

6) Hissra Kadan. = Non-canon Qunari drug used to invoke incapacitation in both a physical and magical sense. It is meant to be ingested for its full strength but can also be inhaled for a less prolonged effect. The main side-effects are hallucinations and feelings of a pleasurable experience, hence its name. Literally: "Illusion where the hearts lies".