"Anders?" Avery gasped. "You're at Weisshaupt!"
The smirk on his face looked precisely as she remembered it. He was obviously pleased at the surprise, but beneath it lay the warm glimmer of sadness that she knew so well. His humor had become more and more of a mask in the later years of their friendship, and that seemed no different now. He took several slow steps toward her and looked around the room, feigning confusion. "Oh, is that what this place is? That explains all the bloody Grey Wardens around here."
He took the last two steps quickly and his arms closed around Avery, sweeping her into a vise-like hug. Avery remained frozen, unconvinced until the moment she smelled that distinctly Anders scent that the vision before her was anything more than a figment of her imagination.
His arms began to warm her, reminding her how long it had been since she'd been held by anyone. Cautiously, she embraced him in return, but still her mind was reeling. Flashes of Anders lying straight-faced to her about that potion, images of the explosion in Kirkwall, of the numerous shredded bodies she'd treated afterward appeared before her eyes. His arms trembled as they squeezed around her, his breath sighing shakily in her ear. She could only imagine how much longer it had been for him to have someone hold him; someone he felt comfortable going to for affection. Despite the visions of the carnage he'd caused, she found herself with the impulse to stroke his hair. It was so much easier to remember the Anders she'd once been inseparable from, the one she'd known nearly a decade longer than the man he'd become just before their separation. The vulnerable man who struggled inwardly much more than anyone knew, who was hurt by the depths of his own compassion, who gave his considerable healing gifts freely to anyone in need, with no expectation of payment. As with so many things in her past, nothing could be done about the way it all ended now. She certainly wasn't going to bury a dagger in his back this late in the game.
"What Wardens? I've seen maybe ten of you total since I set foot in this place," Avery laughed softly into his shoulder as her body relaxed. His pauldrons and robe had been replaced by a simple leather suit with a subtle griffin inlay along the sleeves and lapel. She had to admin that it was a flattering outfit, highlighting his broad shoulders and long torso. Not as broad and enticing as Cullen's warrior build, but there was no question why Avery had initially been attracted to Anders. Such a possibility was non-existent at this point, however. Her heart and soul resided elsewhere.
"Oh they're here. This place is just so damned big, and everyone tends to spread out a bit," Anders answered. He pulled away and looked into space. Avery assumed he was listening to Justice, raising a number of new questions. But then he began to speak.
"There's one in the gardens at the moment, probably Santi practicing his staff skills. Three making their way through a lower level, probably to the lower bathhouse. And two several rooms over..; though they're coming through almost as a single entity…" Anders laughed and shook his head. "That's probably Britte and Meghan. I swear those two are determined to fuck in every room in this fortress."
He looked sharply back at Avery, raising a lascivious eyebrow. "Can't say I blame them."
"Oh right…" Avery sighed as she pulled away, ignoring the suggestion implicit in Anders' returning smirk. "That whole Warden sense thing. I guess that's… convenient."
She returned to her stool and picked at the crust of her sandwich. It was quickly growing cold.
"It is. We can't sneak up on each other, which has its benefits," he said with a shrug. "But it also makes scare pranks nearly impossible."
He lowered himself across the table, and studied her face intently.
"The longer hair looks good on you," he said. "I mean, the short hair was just so… you, but this is also quite fetching."
"Yep. You're not the only one who's been in hiding for the last three years,"Avery said, feeling the remains of her smile fall away. She looked up at Anders' face and studied him in return. He had a scar cutting across his cheek, and a new web of crows feet around his eyes. His own hair was long enough to be gathered back into a full pony-tail, not that half pony he wore back in Kirkwall. The grey at his temples made him look surprisingly distinguished. He looked healthy, but had clearly aged quickly over the last few years. She could only imagine what kind of trouble he encountered.
"Yeah, sorry about that. Of all the people in Kirkwall, you were one that it pained me most to hurt," he said quietly. With the softness of his apology came a flood of questions in her mind, every idle thought that had occurred to her over the years. Mostly about how he felt now that it was all over, and now that the mages and Templars were officially at war. Was justice proud? Could he even tell justice apart at all anymore? Toward the end in Kirkwall that line within him had been blurring more and more. But at the same time justice had been able to occasionally take over, blotting out Anders' awareness completely. The relationship of spirit and host had always been so changeable, at times turning Anders' into a walking contradiction. There would be time for those questions though, she figured. She was staying the night at least, with the probability of another meeting with the Wardens at the long table the next day. She could ease herself into the more intense topics once they felt fully reacquainted.
"How long have you been here?" she asked instead. She picked up her sandwich and took a bite. It hadn't been as good as Cullen's anyway, but her stomach still rumbled. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.
"Since I started hearing the Calling," Anders said. "It was just… it was too early. That's not supposed to happen for decades or at least that was my understanding. I just didn't know what else to do. My time with the other Wardens in Vigil's Keep had been rather short, and the Warden-Commander who'd given me the joining hadn't had much time with the Wardens above him, so there was little he could pass on to us. I'd never embraced the fact that I was a Warden, that you know well enough. But suddenly I had so many questions, and this was the only place I knew of that might actually have some answers," Anders said. "When I learned we were all hearing it, it was… I don't know, comforting in a way? Everyone else was freaking out, but for me… well Justice was certain there was something more to it than what everyone was assuming, we just needed to find out what. And I ended up rather grateful that the Calling led me somewhere safe."
Avery nodded as she watched him.. She could only imagine how frightening it would be to be wandering Thedas, already fearing for your life, only to be assaulted with a song in your head that told you it didn't matter where you ran.
"Are you still hearing it?" she asked. Anders listened for a moment, and then nodded slowly.
"It's quieter now. I can ignore it most of the time."
Avery felt a shiver up her back. Had Stroud failed? Had he perished in the Fade? Or had he succeeded and it was just taking a while for the Nightmare's song to die too? Either he had killed the Nightmare demon or he hadn't. Those seemed to be the only two options, even as Stroud's fate remained a mystery. She assumed all the Wardens would already have been informed that the Calling was fake, since that was precisely the news she'd already delivered hours ago. Someone had told Anders she was there, they must have told him that much else too. She was tired of talking about those details. It only reminded her that someone else had probably died in her place, when she was the one who'd apparently, somehow, let Corypheus get away all those years ago. She shook the thought away.
"So you're happy here?"
Anders shrugged and looked around the kitchen again.
"It's been better than the alternative. The gardens are nice, and the library is positively unmatched. There's probably nothing else like it in all of Thedas. Have you been there yet? I have enough reading material to keep me happy for the rest of my days." Anders said with eyes suddenly sparkling. "And no one minds that I've taken in a cat. Two, actually. I'm not exactly anyone's favorite person around here, or anywhere, and they mostly all keep their distance from the evil insurrectionist apostate," he said mockingly. "But they all concede that my healing abilities make me useful. And there's enough space that they can completely ignore me until they need my help, so…" he shrugged again, then sighed and leaned back in his seat.
"Like it or not, I'm one of them. They can't try to lure me into capture in order to claim the reward money, or set fire to my quarters as I sleep, as several other groups I was with did. Well, I mean I guess they could, but they won't. Stone doesn't burn, and they already have more coin than anyone could ever possibly spend. I'm the resident healer and the garden is more bountiful than ever, thanks to me. I feel safer here than I have felt since Kirkwall."
The sandwich was gone, but Avery was still hungry. She could think of little to say to Anders. Part of her was glad that he was safe and living well. Another part of her was painfully aware that the entire world would claim that this was not the ending this so-called monster deserved. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that it wasn't her concern anymore.
"I have seen the library," Avery said as she rose to pick through the other jars and cupboards for more food. "And I think I met your cat. A black one?"
"Yes, that's Catticus. Did he give you the full library tour?"
Avery snorted. Anders and his clever names. In a bowl on a far corner she found an apple and took it back to the table.
"Something like that," she said, taking a bite into the juicy fruit. "And what's the other's name?"
"Lionel," Anders said with a smug grin. "Lionel the lionhearted, fiercest beast in all the Anderfels. He's probably outside defending my patch of squash from the throngs of nasty rodents."
Avery snorted again. Anders beamed.
"It's so good to see you, Hawke." Anders said. "You look well. I've worried about… what happened to you after I left. After you…" he sighed again, his brows furrowing. He began picking at his cuticle, a habit he had back in Kirkwall. It was always an indication that he was feeling nervous or uncertain. "After you let me live. I know you must have caught a lot of shit for that."
Avery snorted, "that's putting it mildly."
"I know. I'm sorry," he said softly.
Avery grabbed his hand quickly and gave it a squeeze before pulling away again. She finished her apple and then spotted a kettle hanging beside the fire.
"I assume you have tea in this place?" she said as she rose again and tossed her apple core in a nearby wastebasket. A hot cup of tea would warm their hands and give her something to do while she waited for the heavy air between them to clear. Anders too seemed grateful for the distraction, and flashed her a smile as he rose to fetch a canister out of the cupboard. They'd share a cup and then she decided she'd ask for the official Weisshaupt tour, since none of the other Wardens had offered. The giant fortress felt a little less cold knowing that she'd at least have the company of an old friend during her time there. It would be a relief of its own to have so many of her long festering questions finally answered.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Her feet were sore. She settled down into the straw mattress that made up her bed and let out a long groan. Exploring all of Weisshaupt with Anders had taken hours, and they'd even climbed to the top of the old Griffin stables. She'd been correct in her assumption that those large holes in the tower were basically launchpads for the giant beasts. Anders told her all that he'd learned about them in his time there; that the Griffins weren't chosen by the riders, the riders were chosen by their Griffins. That the second blight had ravaged more of the world than any blight had since, and without the Griffin's help, it would never have been stopped at all. But the cost had been the lives of every remaining Griffin, though no information remained about precisely why that had been. Avery felt an unnerving sadness as she walked through the stables. It was nearly impossible to imagine the beasts from the paintings living and breathing before her. But the proof that they had lived was before her very eyes. She saw where they had slept, where they ate, where they had their wounds mended and prepared for battle. How different might the world be if there were still Griffins to share the good fight?
She'd also seen the gardens, vast and lush thanks to Anders' remarkable green thumb. It occupied a courtyard nearly three times the size of Skyhold's, with half designated for food, and the other half teeming with blooming, fragrant herbs. Anders said it produced much more than the resident Wardens truly needed, so when he wasn't reading or tending to his vegetables, he was canning the extra produce and drying herbs out for storage. He'd even added quite a significant amount to Weisshaupt's long standing seed bank.
"We have seeds for every herb known to have useful properties, and many in such quantity that we should never be in need again. Barring some widespread catastrophe that requires Warden intervention, that is," he'd boasted proudly. "It's really only supposed to sustain the Warden population between blights, but since no one knows how long that will be… it doesn't hurt to keep adding to the supply, does it?" he'd asked.
The longer they walked, the more it seemed Anders had ended up in precisely the place he belonged, to his own surprise as much as hers. It only saddened her that he was so isolated in his new home. She saw the coldness in the eyes of the other Wardens as they passed. No doubt every other person there was fully aware of Anders' crimes, and clearly none could offer anything beyond mere tolerance of his presence. But coldness was better than outright hostility, even Anders himself acknowledged that. Though it was increasingly clear that he was desperate for real, intimate human company. He touched her at every opportunity, laying a hand on her back or taking her hand to help her down stairs. She'd stopped shirking away from it once he noticed her hesitance, and assured her he was only happy to have a friend again. Even with as much joy as he obviously took in his two cats, there was only so much one-sided conversation one person could have.
The small fire crackled just feet away from her bed, heating the spartan stone room to just above freezing. Her eyelids drooped as she thought over what was to come the next day. She couldn't deny that Anders' touch had made her hungry for more, though of course it wasn't Anders' hands that she yearned for. Somewhere, thousands of miles away, lay Cullen. Likely in a camp in the Arbor wilds, alone on a bedroll in a modest tent. She could only guess that he was thinking of her. Was he receiving her letters? Did he know how desperately she missed him? How thinking of him, of how far apart they were had caused her to break down several times now? Days ago, before they'd reached the Anderfel foothills she'd had to stop Kilborn and Cassie and ask them to give her a minute. She'd run off to an isolated spot and cried. Everything seemed to hit her over the head at once. Not knowing the state of Cullen's health, not knowing why he wasn't writing, not knowing when she was going to see him again, to hold him again. Not knowing what kind of reception she would receive when she did finally return. It was all suddenly too much to bear. Her stomach existed in a permanent twist of knots. So many unanswered questions burned her insides like a fiery acid. There'd been a number of times where she woke to a yet another stretch of travel that seemed impossible to endure.
With a yawn, she grabbed at her pack. Just one letter, and then she'd finally end this long, strange day.
It took her until the paper was before her eyes before it hit her. Her laughed echoed off the stone walls of her room, sounding more like a bark than a true laugh. The words of the last letter she'd read the night before raced vividly through her mind. A year ago they'd come so close to reuniting. They'd been only feet away from each other, and never knew it. But there was more to that letter than that revelation, there was also the mention of a potion. A myth, he'd said. She laughed again. The library down the hall held centuries of knowledge, diaries and journals, memoirs and reference books. The fog cleared her eyes and she shot upright in bed. She felt silly for not thinking of it sooner. If there was anywhere that might know about such a potion as Dragon's Breath, surely it would be Weisshaupt? With that library, tended and maintained for centuries?
She was out of bed and in the hall faster than she could grab her robe. Once the thought hit her, she'd stopped only to close the portfolio and place it back in her pack. The stone hallway floor bit against her bare feet and she shivered as the thin linen gown she wore fluttered around her body. She counted the doors past the hall that turned toward the kitchen, trying to recall which room Anders said was his. Most of these quarters were empty, once inhabited by the very Wardens she'd fought back at Adamant.
The door that belonged to Anders was easy to spot once it came into view; it was the only that had a strip of light burning in the gap at the floor. She knocked impatiently and bounced on her feet as she waited. The door opened with a heavy click that echoed down the long, frigid hall. A warm hand closed around her arm and pulled her inside. The words she'd been preparing were on the tip of her tongue, but before she could speak she found herself pressed up against the back of the hard door, with Anders' body pressed against hers, his steamy mouth seeking entrance between her lips. He groaned as he kissed her hard, his hands roving over the thin linen and finding the firm nubs atop her breasts. She took in a sharp breath, realizing immediately that this was wrong. She shook her head, and pressed her hands against his chest. He was shirtless and lean, his skin warm against her palms.
"No… no… Anders…" she cried between kisses. She pushed him harder and heard him groan.
"Hawke," he gasped. "I was hoping you'd come to me."
She mustered up her strength and delivered a hard shove. She reeled from the unexpected intensity of the contact as Anders staggered away, his sizeable erection tenting the front of his breeches. She couldn't deny the reaction her body had to being pressed against him. Avery shook her head and shut it down. She was lonely too. Of course she was. But no, that was not why she was here.
"I'm sorry Anders, but I can't," she said. She'd never told him about Cullen. He hadn't asked and a part of her feared his reaction. They'd been getting along so well, it seemed unnecessary to even bring it up. But she'd have to now. She would have had no regardless of how Anders had greeted her.
He took several deep breaths, swaying with the struggle to regain his composure. He turned away and adjusted the bulge in his pants.
Nodding almost more to himself, his voice came out in a croak. "You're with someone? Of course you are. I'd expected you'd probably be married by now. Or settled down somewhere with little black haired moppets running around."
Avery gave a little shrug. "You're half right."
Anders laughed heartily and glanced down at her hand, searching her fingers for a ring. "How is the little elf anyway? Why isn't he here with you? Did you leave him behind to manage the brood?"
Avery sighed. She had no idea how how he was truly going to react to the news that she'd married a former Templar, of all things. The Anders she used to know would have be furious. Livid. Time had seemed to mellow him a bit, as had being on the run for years. She knew that had to have beaten him down a bit. It had done for her. Still, she'd been fearing it since the moment he sat before her in the kitchen. She supposed revealing little bits at a time might ease him into it.
"There is no brood. And it's not Fenris," she said quietly.
"So married then? You married someone who didn't even bother to give you a ring?" he asked, inspecting her hand again. No, of course he wouldn't suspect the amber ring. She'd already been wearing that back in Kirkwall. "I must say, Hawke, I already disapprove. I know you're not the materialistic type, but…"
"This is my ring," she said, instinctively twisting it around her finger. She admired the changing browns of the amber, seeing in it the perfect reflection of Cullen's warm eyes. The memory of their wedding in the garden took her out of the moment for a blissful second, transporting her before the beatific face of her beloved. But it lasted a mere blink before the cold present slammed her back into reality.
"But you were wearing that in Kirkwall…" Anders pointed out. Avery nodded. His expression changed to one of confusion, his eyes deepening as he considered the other possibilities.
He laughed again. "So… Varric?"
She shook her head. He'd seen Cullen kiss her in the Gallows that day. He'd flashed her a look of such outrage it still chilled her to recall it. She could wait for him to make the connection himself, or just be out with it. Avery rolled her shoulders and stood tall. She didn't need to be afraid of Anders, she reminded herself. She was proud of her marriage, and proud of her husband. There was nothing Anders could say that would change that.
"It's Cullen," she said."Technically, I am now 'Hawke-Rutherford.'"
Anders blinked at her for several long seconds. The bulge in his breeches had receded, but she saw the flush creeping up his chest, coloring his neck and ears pink.
"The Knight-Captain!? You married… a Templar?" he asked, his voice sounding hollow. He swallowed and then spoke again, this time with more force. "And not just any Templar, but the King fucking Templar of the Kirkwall Order!? Are you fucking insane!?"
There it was. Avery waited a moment to respond, giving Anders time to let the information sink in. He began to pace the room, his eyes growing wild with anger. Suddenly he laughed, loudly enough to echo off the walls and ring in her ears. He must have remembered the kiss.
Avery sighed. She'd have to let him work through his reaction before she could ask him for his help. There was nothing to do really but offer an explanation and wait him out.
"Right. Of course. But…" he stopped, and looked at her ring again. "You were wearing that for a long time. Months, I think. So you were fucking King Templar that whole time? Is that why you kicked me and Fenris out of your house?"
This time Avery laughed. She winced at the amount of laughter flying around the room. None of it was real. They were all angry, mocking barks that didn't mean what real laughter was supposed to mean. "I kicked you two out of my house because you two had already kicked me out of my own fucking bed. Do you know what it's like to feel unwanted in your own home? Because two men you once loved no longer wanted you as much as they wanted each other?" she asked. "No, Anders. Cullen didn't have a damn thing to do with that. Though…" she laughed again, figuring there was no point in lying now. "It was when I ran to a place that I could try to process losing you two that he found me. So really, it's all your fault. Thank you, actually. If it wasn't for you…"
"But he's a fucking Templar, Hawke! He was hunting us! Killing us! He was just as bad as that evil bitch…"
"No, that's entirely true," she interjected firmly. Anders snorted and crossed him arms, pointedly waiting for her to continue. Avery continued, keeping her voice as clear and confident as she could manage. "Cullen was questioning Meredith that whole time. And he never hurt anyone himself, not without provocation. If it wasn't for him the Templars would have been even worse."
Anders laughed bitterly again, but Avery continued.
"He decapitated another Templar who was abusing his power, right in front of my eyes. During that time that Meredith sent us out to bring in some escaped mages? And after you left us at the Gallows he called her out in front of all the other Templars. He stood against her openly, and asked the other Templars to see reason and join him," she said. "Anders, he helped me kill Meredith. He took down his own Knight-Commander. I honestly don't know if we could have done it without his help. Not with what she had become."
Anders said nothing, but hadn't softened his stance much. She could practically read his thoughts as he studied her with narrowed, darkened eyes. None of that mattered much to him, certainly not as much as knowing she'd betrayed Anders by growing close to the very people they were supposed to be fighting. She'd betrayed him, and by extension, all the other mages in Kirkwall. All the victims of Templar abuses that she was supposed to be championing.
"He's a good man, Anders, not that I particularly need your approval. He did have a time, a long period of time, where he said and did things against mages that he's not proud of. But you don't know what was done to him in Kinloch Hold. He was imprisoned and tortured there by mages, for weeks. He still has nightmares, he still struggles to function normally because of it, even though it's been decades. He might never know true peace, thanks all the shit he's seen and had done to him. By mages. But despite all the damage our kind has done to him, he doesn't hate us all. Not that way you hate all Templars. Cullen is forgiving and kind and compassionate and strong…"
Anders snorted again and tightend his arms over his chest.
"He loves me. And I love him, more than I have ever loved anyone or anything," she said. Anders looked up sharply, his eyes full of an unexpected pain. She hadn't meant to say it. She hadn't been thinking too hard about anything. She simply opened her mouth and let the truth come out. But still she was surprised to see that saying such a thing hurt him. Especially since he had basically chosen to end things first, back when he chose Fenris. And even after that had ended as quickly as it did, he'd never asked for her back.
"And he's not a Templar anymore," she said finally. Anders laughed disdainfully. Avery was growing tired of the laughter. He looked away again, casting his eyes to the floor.
"It's true, he left the Order completely. He wants nothing to do with that life anymore. Or ever again. The Order, the chantry has done just as much harm to him as we mages have."
Anders shook his head. "They can't just leave the Order, Hawke. That's pretty much common knowledge, isn't it? The lyrium makes sure of it. Even Samson was brought back in eventually."
Anders' arms finally loosened, and then fell away. He stepped over to his bureau and grabbed a tunic, throwing it over his head. Avery noticed the gooseflesh along his arms, and was suddenly aware of the chill crawling over her own body. Anders tossed her his robe, averting his eyes as she caught it. She realized as she put it on that her cold-hardened nipples were shearing through the linen of her gown, her body as covered with gooseflesh as his own. She pulled his robe tight around her, grateful for the warmth of the thick covering.
"Cullen quit lyrium once already. It nearly drove him mad, but he did it. And soon he's going to need to do it again," she explained. Anders rubbed at his brow. Whether or not he was still angry was unclear, but at least he was relaxing.
"They can't quit lyrium, Hawke," he answered. "It kills them or whatever, right? Once you go Templar, you're Templar for life. That's what the Chantry says."
Avery laughed, "since when you do believe everything the Chantry says?"
"Well if he needs to quit again, that means it didn't exactly stick the first time around, right?"
"That wasn't his fault. The Inquisitor made him take it. Cullen was having headaches… nightmares," Avery shivered at the memory of the night in the Winter Palace courtyard, and of the tense moments in Cullen's office when she found him and Anon standing there together. "There was an incident…" she sighed. "It was ugly."
Anders just looked at her quietly, suddenly appearing deeply tired.
"I need your help. That's why I'm here right now," she said. "Have you ever heard of a potion called Dragon's Breath?"
Anders thought for a moment and then shook his head. Avery was expecting that. She would have been genuinely surprised if he had.
"Well, some apparently think it's a myth, but a Seeker mentioned that she'd read about it in some secret Seeker texts. It's supposed to help ease lyrium withdrawal. I need to know more about it… if it really is a myth, or if there is any possibility that it might be real," she explained. She knew she was speaking too much; throwing heaps of information onto him all at once. He still hadn't even recovered fully from the news of her marriage, and she was already grilling him about some mythical potion. With as blank a look as he was giving her, it seemed that maybe she should slow down and give him more time to process. But the urgency was what had brought her to his door in the first place. The sooner she knew where to start looking, the sooner she could find some answers.
"Does Weisshaupt have an herbalist? Or, maybe the library might say something about it in one of the old books? Maybe the herbalist can tell us where the books or journals from past herbalists are located?"
"That's me," Anders said with a shrug. "You're looking at the Weisshaupt herbalist. At least since the mass exodus that happened right after the Calling. And I suppose none of those Wardens are coming back, at least until the Inquisitor is done with them. So. Sorry, Hawke."
He sighed, then turned to slip on a pair of slippers.
"But I know where some old journals are," he said. "Come on, then."
Avery was deep in thought as they made their way toward the library. The library was massive and there was no way they'd have the time or energy to find and read the entirety of every old herbalist text there. They'd have to narrow it down somehow, pick a place to start, a place that would hopefully not be too far from where they needed to be. What would make the Wardens most likely to need something for lyrium withdrawal?
"Grey Wardens take Templars, right?" she asked. "They can be conscripted if the Wardens need more fighters?"
"Yep," Anders answered. "Unfortunately."
"And do you keep a supply of lyrium for them? I mean, I guess you wouldn't have them quit necessarily? The world would know about it if you had any who'd done so successfully, and everyone still believes that's not possible."
"Well. I do know there have been times when conscripted Templars have been separated from their lyrium supply… during unexpectedly long battles, or when sequestered in outposts that ran low of supplies. There are a number of confirmed deaths by men deprived of their lyrium," he answered gravely. "Lots of madness, just as the Chantry warns. Actually there is an infamous incident, I don't know if anyone outside of the Wardens knows about it, but a conscripted Templar went mad from withdrawal and began to slaughter other Wardens. He ran loose for several days, leaving a trail of bodies that he believed were darkspawn. I guess he was confused by the 'Warden sense' and stopped seeing the differences between the darkspawn and his fellow Wardens. After that the Wardens only conscripted former Templars as a last resort, or would try to get to them while they were still in training, before they were ever given their first draught." he explained. "They're a bit of liability, and not only because they put all the mages on edge."
He led her into the library, stopping to greet Catticus with an enthusiastic stream of coos and indecipherable noises. The fluffy cat soaked it up, demanding more attention with an insistent meow. Anders tut-tutted the cat into silence, then stood back up to look at Avery.
"We have a steady lyrium supply now, so it's less of an issue," he said. "Though Templars are still not the Warden's first choice."
"A steady supply from whom?" she asked.
"Not a person. We have our own lyrium mine, here in the Anderfels, with some Warden dwarves who process it before bringing it over. It's less than a day's journey away," he explained nonchalantly, and then added in a sing-song voice, "all the lyrium our little hearts desire."
Anders turned again and walked to a far stretch of shelves. The books there there were faded and dusty, with no words on the spine. She supposed those had to be the handwritten journals. Still there were so many of them; the sheer number was overwhelming.
"Okay," she said, thinking hard at the possibilities. "When did the Wardens establish the mine?"
Anders shrugged. "It was at least a hundred years ago. But that's as much as I know."
She nodded. "So maybe we start with a history book. A timeline of some sort, if there is one? We look for a period of time before the mine existed, where… maybe there was a point when they had to conscript a bunch of Templars for some reason? Whatever that reason might be. Desperation or something. And then they might be faced with the possibility of dealing with withdrawals. That would be the most likely time that any herbalist would research that potion, wouldn't it?"
Anders nodded. "Yes, that would make sense."
"Okay," Avery sighed, feeling slightly less overwhelmed. "Okay, so first step, find the year that the mine became productive. Second step, look for a large influx of Templars in the ranks sometime before then. If we find anything promising along those lines, then third step is locate herbalist journals from that period of time."
Anders flashed her a smirk, and motioned her to follow him. "I believe I know where to start."