Avery's pillow was shifting under her head, something pillows were not necessarily supposed to do.

"Hawke?" came a soft voice, originating just above the flexing shoulder that her head had apparently fallen upon in her slumber. "Hawke, I think I found something."

The words were meaningless for the first few seconds that she blinked the fog out of her eyes, but once the words sank in, Avery sat up in a hurry. Her back cramped at the sudden motion, her joints aching with stiffness. Sleeping in a chair wasn't comfortable for long on even the best of days, and these old wooden chairs almost seemed designed specifically to keep their occupants from wanting to stay too long.

"What?" she asked in a raspy, sleep choked voice. In a narrow, distant window the sky was the milky blue of early morning. The black cat was curled into a ball, purring contentedly in Anders' lap.

"Here," he said, handing her an open journal. It was turned to a page near the back, the parchment yellowed and brittle, the text within uneven and smudged. Still, she saw the word "Templar" scrawled clearly in two separate places. Remembering what they'd spent the entire night searching for, she took the ancient book and placed it gently on the table before her.

"This is after the third incident we located in the history book," he said as he leaned close.

"The third incident?" Avery asked, trying to remember everything they'd read. Anders had made notes from the timeline they'd found, but they'd spent so many blighted hours reading already. So much of what she did manage to recall blurred into one long stream of jumbled information.

"Where citizens fleeing the fall of Hossburg came to Weisshaupt for sanctuary?" Anders said.

"Right," Avery nodded, slowly remembering. Hossburg was the capital of the Anderfels, and only several days journey away. "It fell at the end of the fourth blight."

"Yes. Everyone fled, and naturally that included the surviving Templars from the Hossburg Chantry. The herbalist then was an older woman named Riss, and she says here…" Anders said, taking the journal again and flipping forward several pages, his finger landing on a small passage at the bottom of the page, "that they are running low on lyrium and a few are beginning to get worried. And here…" he flipped forward two more pages, "that her healing potion doesn't seem to be having any effect on the problems plaguing the Templars. She says she's sent out for some Arbor Blessing, for a decoction that she hadn't used since the time she worked as an herbalist to a noble family in Val Royeaux."

"Val Royeaux," Avery nodded. That was important somehow, but her exhausted brain couldn't seem to find the strings of connection there.

Anders laughed quietly as he watched her blinking numbly at the page before her. Try as she did to concentrate, her exhaustion was bone deep. The day before had been a long, tumultuous one, and the night had stretched on endlessly while she and Anders had sorted through countless books. She couldn't have slept more than an hour, though the kink in her neck seemed to indicate otherwise.

"Val Royeaux… where the Seeker headquarters is? Also where all the brain dead Templars go to rot once they can't focus enough to chase down mages anymore?" Anders reminded her with another playful nudge. Avery nodded again. The pieces were coming together. "If anyone's going to be able to pry information about a secret potion away from those blighted Seekers it would be a local noble with endless coin to throw around. Probably someone trying to cure a son or daughter who ran off to join the Templars in a fit of rebellion and then came back home with their tail between their legs once they learned they actually had to work."

Avery frowned as she scanned through the old woman's shaky script. The scenario Anders conjured wasn't at all far-fetched, but she could imagine other scenarios where such a potion might also be required, ones infinitely more sympathetic. She herself was living in just such a scenario.

"Anyway, you read on and I'll go make us some tea. In your case... some very strong tea."

Avery gave him an appreciative smile and stood up to stretch her back before dropping into the chair again to begin digging through the journal. After several false leads during the night, this certainly seemed the most promising one yet.

Avery could deduce several things about this Herbalist Riss just in reading through the first few pages. It was clear that the author certainly was older, as indicated by the shaky hand and large lettering, which was probably due to fading eyesight. It also seemed clear that this Herbalist was self taught and probablu foreign born. Her information was haphazardly organized and at times downright nonsensical, with occasional words thrown in that Avery did not recognize. But then, she realized, she had little knowledge of herbalism herself. For all Avery knew, it was just as likely that the foreign words could have been names for mixing agents or pieces of distillery equipment. As she read on she realized just how big a task sat before her. Even if they located the recipe and Anders understood how to recreate it, there was only so much she'd be able to take out of Weisshaupt with her. After that was used up, she'd need to know how to make more herself. No small feat for a woman with no real schooling in herbs and potion-making, besides what little had been imparted to her by her father nearly two decades ago. She sighed. It seemed she would need to beg Anders for a crash course in potion-making on top of all the help she'd already requested.

The cup of steaming tea was slid beside the journal just as she reached the last page, and she was immediately revitalized by the floral scent wafting up from the brown liquid. Anders had also plunked down a plate of sliced apples and cold chicken. Avery's stomach grumbled at the sight, and she stuffed an apple slice straight into her mouth without bothering to bite it down to a more manageable size.

"Do you have the next one?" she mumbled with a full mouth. "The journal that comes after this?"

Anders nodded and let Catticus resettle back in his lap before picking through a stack of books to his right.

"Anything?" he asked, nodding to the journal before her.

"So far she's gone on a bit about how difficult it is to grow Arbor Blessing, and how her apprentice just wrote that he has yet to find any," Avery mentioned before burning her tongue on the hot tea. After a wince she took another slow sip, and then cooled her mouth with another slice of apple.

Anders nodded in confirmation. "It is a pain in the ass," he said. "If it's a main component of this potion that alone explains a lot about why it was never rediscovered."

Avery sighed.

"It grows wherever it wants, in places that sometimes don't seem to share conditions or really make much sense at all," he continued.

"So you don't have any?"

"Oh I have a little," Anders answered. "Two plants. But mine have received quite a bit of help."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Magic, of course. I've been keeping the same two plants alive since I arrived, giving them regular treatments of spirit healing so that they continuously regenerate. They normally only live about three months, and mine are well past the point where they should have died. Several times over, in fact," he said. "The hardest part is getting one established in the first place, so once you have one rooted to a spot that seems to make it happy, then magic is really the only way I know of to keep it there. Their seeds disappear into Maker knows where, even in an enclosed garden such as ours. They're not like a bloody elfroot where one plant will just keep making babies on the same patch of ground for the rest of eternity."

Avery closed the journal before her and picked up her mug of tea, letting the steam warm her cheeks. "Spirit healing? It won't work with just regular healing, like what I can do?"

Anders shook his head, though it wasn't necessary. Avery pretty much knew the answer. Spirit healing was in a class of its own, capable of creating new cells and blood, and what boiled down basically to magical surgery. If she'd had it, she wouldn't have had to spend hours picking glass shards out of people after the Chantry explosion, or cutting Anon open to pull his rib out of his lung before she could heal him. Avery sighed. It would be a welcome gift to have, save for the fact that learning it would probably mean she'd have to extend her stay in Weisshaupt even more. "Guess I'll have to learn that too then, won't I?"

Anders snorted, flashing her a reassuring smile. "Of course I'll teach you that, love. You only ever needed to ask. And you've had enough experience with healing by now that you should take to it pretty easily. But let's find more information about this potion before we get ahead of ourselves, shall we?"

The sky grew brighter, and soon the trill chirps of birds were audible from the trees beyond the library walls. The plate of food was emptied and this time Anders was slumped onto the table, his face buried in a circle of arms and honey colored hair. Catticus had torn across the room randomly an hour or so earlier, just before another Warden had quietly entered and began perusing a shelf of more recent Theodosian literature. It was one of the men with the greying skin and missing patches of hair. Avery gave a polite nod and tried to stay focused in her journal. The man selected a small stack of books and slipped out of the room as quietly as he had entered.

Making sense of Riss's writings was proving to be more difficult that she'd anticipated, as the old woman's focus tended to wander, sometimes before she'd even finished a sentence. But at one point she'd written that she'd sent away to an old contact in Val Royeaux as apparently her attempts to mix the potion from memory were not yielding good results, and the situation with the Templars was becoming more dire. The story of this still unnamed potion was interrupted regularly by notes about injuries and illnesses experienced by the other Hossburg refugees. There was apparently a problematic breech birth where a mother experienced great distress and post-natal bleeding. There were broken bones and viruses that spread from people living in such close quarters, as well as something else she kept referring to being wrong with the Griffins. At times, often for many pages at a stretch, the information regarding the Templars was sparse.

Until an unspecified incident about halfway through the second journal. Something happening to the Templars required that the lot of them be placed in segregation, necessitating the recruiting of several of the refugees to assist Riss and function as caretakers. Riss then sent another, considerably more urgent message to her Val Royeaux contact. This contact, it turned out, was a Seeker, and the new message finally requested the potion by name. The hair stood up on Avery's arms as she looked at the words. The words that confirmed that the existence of a potion which soothed lyrium withdrawal symptoms was in fact no myth. Dragon's Breath.

Avery jumped out of her chair, and whirled around on her feet. She wanted to yell, to cheer for joy despite her solitude in the giant room. She picked up the book and immediately remembered just how frail and aged the journal was, and then set it back down gently, before delivering an enthusiastic push to Anders' shoulder and nearly knocking him off his chair.

"We found it!" she hooted happily. "You were right! This is it!" Anders looked up, bearing the same foggy expression she figured she'd worn several hours earlier. He glanced around groggily and Avery repeated the words, her voice echoing off the library walls.

"Anders! Anders! We've got it!" she called, before bouncing in another circle. If the cat had been present, she would have picked the creature up and taken him on a waltz through the library isles. Instead she whirled around by herself while Anders rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

The joy quickly got swallowed up by the sob climbing up her throat. So much worrying about Cullen, about the pain and confusion he would have to endure again, about the pressure on her to be the one support he'd have through it all. Perhaps it wouldn't all be as difficult as she'd been fearing after all, for either of them. Perhaps she truly might be able to bring him some peace.

But what Anders had said was right, they shouldn't get too ahead of themselves. Though knowing she'd move heaven and earth to bring this potion back to Skyhold, they still had no idea what other ingredients were needed, or what the exact effect would be. All Cullen had written in his letter, and Riss in her journal, was that the potion "helped". They didn't say it "cured". They didn't say it shortened the duration of the detox. Still, if soothing symptoms was all that they could get, it was still so much more than nothing.

"Okay," said Anders after clearing his throat and scooting his chair away from the table. He'd shaken the sleep away and looked focused again, almost gleeful "So let me fetch some parchment and a few quills, and we'll start copying everything down. You'll want a copy of course, but I want one too. You never know when someone else might need this, and it'd be such a slap in the face to the Chantry to make this public! Can you imagine how pissed they'll be once they realize they no longer have any hold over the Templars with the good sense to ditch their ranks!?"

Anders stopped to plant a kiss on Avery's forehead, his brown eyes full and warm. He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before sauntering toward a cupboard on the other side of the library.

Xxxx

The Warden's rookery was situated on the roof of the fortress, in an airy, reinforced gazebo type structure that overlooked the expansive Anderfels mountains. After another long stretch of morning spent hunched over the books, this time digging out potion details and writing until her hand cramped, and she was grateful to take a breath of fresh mountain air. She and Anders had marked their place in the books and transported them to Anders' desk in his quarters, before parting for a long-overdue break. Avery had washed up and changed her clothes, and then gorged herself on the contents of the kitchens before composing a note to Cullen. With every line she wrote, she wondered more and more if he was even receiving her letters in the first place. It seemed so severely out of character for him not to write back, but surely if there was any letter at all that would solicit a response, it would be this one, the one informing him that Dragon's Breath was not a myth, that she had found the formula and would be doing whatever was necessary to bring some home. Surely no matter how angry at her he might be, if that was even at the heart of it, he'd respond to that.

Avery crossed the long rooftop toward the structure of squawking birds, with scroll clenched tightly in her hand. After writing what she could about the potion, she'd gone a little overboard with the pleas for a response. It seemed a lifetime since she'd last heard from him and it still sometimes seized her breath to consider the possibilities that might be keeping him so silent. She told him how desperately she loved him, and confessed her fears that he might be feeling something different for her now than what'd he'd claimed to feel for so long.

Yet she couldn't even say that if she had it to do all over again, that she would have fought Anon to make someone else come to Weisshaupt. If she hadn't come to Weisshaupt, she wouldn't be leaving with the treasure that she'd found there. No one else would have known that there even was such a potion to search for, and no one else would have gained Anders' help in digging out, and eventually, recreating it. She could only hope that when she returned home, anything that was wrong could be righted again. It would have to be.

"Excuse me? Sorry to disturb you, but I have a letter that needs sent, if the Inquisition might make use of one of your birds?" Avery called to the man bent over and cleaning out one of the cages. The large black birds were wandering freely within the screened in gazebo, allowed to roam while their caretaker scraped droppings from bars and perch bases and filled bowls. The man stood, and revealed himself to be unexpectedly young. He must have been Anon's age, or thereabouts, with a baby face that was almost comically peppered with an attempt at facial hair. The young man had cold grey eyes that seemed at odds with his creamy complexion and youthful cheeks.

"The Inquisition you say?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"That's right," Avery answered as she stood on the outside of the screen, shivering at the high mountain breeze.

"I'm not sure about that…" he said. "There's something funny going on with their birds."

"Something funny?" Avery asked, ignoring his question. It was the first anyone had said anything at all about Skyhold's birds.

"We sent out two of our birds to Skyhold recently, the last one about three weeks ago. Neither of them ever returned," he said, setting down a bag of seed before picking up a wire bristled brush. "But one of their birds arrived early last week, bearing a message that clearly wasn't meant for us. It was addressed to a Knight-Captain in Emprise du Lion. We intended to let the bird rest here for a little while and then send him back out to the correct location, but it died. Just fell off its perch."

Though the news should have been frightening, a wash of relief flooded Avery's body.

"I spent three days disinfecting this whole place afterward, in case it was carrying something it could pass onto my birds," he said, not bothering to hide the note of annoyance in his voice.

"But your birds were fine?" Avery asked.

"Yep. Either it's not an illness or I caught in time. But either way, I don't want to risk my bird not returning again. Sorry Ser," he said with a shrug. Avery nodded and tucked the scroll back into her pocket. "We have couriers go out on foot sometimes for local deliveries, but there isn't one scheduled today. Though the nearest town should be able to send that out for you, on your way out of the Anderfels."

"Okay," said Avery. "Thanks for your time."

She didn't know yet when she would be leaving. After her next meeting with the Warden council, there was so much she still needed to go over with Anders. Avery sighed. Knowing that the lack of communication from Cullen could have just been due to a problem with their birds eased her mind more than it should have. Obviously it was a symptom of something else being wrong, but at least it was a possible excuse that didn't include Cullen just choosing not to write.

"Wait!" the boy called behind her. He let himself out a squeaky iron door and sprinted across the rooftop. In his hand was a scroll.

"Here's the letter that bird left. It's probably too late to be useful, but just in case you want to get it where it needs to go…"

Avery held her hand out and took the scroll. The wax seal bearing the Inquisition eye was broken, but the scroll itself was in good condition. Avery unfurled the paper. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Cullen's familiar handwriting. Clearly his ability to write hadn't been affected by his injury.

Knight-Captain Briony,

Good work capturing Suledin Keep. I expect that area will not be easy to hold considering the concentration of Red Templars that have been reported, so I've ordered additional reinforcements to help fortify the Keep, as well as assist in rebuilding Judicael's Crossing. Please advise once it's completed.

I'm a little concerned about the lack of updates regarding Captain Leo and Felice's current assignment, especially considering the reports they were looking into have very recently been proven to be inaccurate. Samson could not possibly be in Emprise du Lion as Captain Morgan claimed, since he is here in the Arbor Wilds. As of this morning, he is in my custody and accompanying us back to Skyhold as my prisoner. Please inform our good Captains Leo and Felice that their assignment is officially nullified, and they are now at your disposal. Free feel to send them back to Skyhold if you have no work for them there in Emprise du Lion, though I hardly think that should be the case. Please also have Captain Morgan thoroughly flogged for wasting the Inquisition's time and resources.

Okay perhaps a flogging is a bit harsh, but at least make sure he is given the rot-gut brandy with his nightly rations and not the good stuff. Or perhaps just a stern warning to double check his sources in the future would suffice. I leave this in your capable hands.

Regards,

Commander Cullen

The letter had clearly been sent before anyone had any idea that there might be something wrong with the birds. If they even knew about that at all. Surely at some point it would become clear that communications were not reaching their destinations. The brief sense of relief was replaced by a new concern. This whole time she'd been assumed that Cullen had to have been receiving her letters, but perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps he was just as perplexed as she, or assuming that she simply wasn't writing at all. She could only hope that he knew better than that by now. But now the uncertainty only seemed to grow with each step back down into Weisshaupt.

Despite her lingering exhaustion, she felt only a new determination to finish reading the journals, to learn everything she needed to learn so that she could get back on the road home.

Anders was waiting for her in the kitchen with the journal open before him. He was sipping at a cup of tea and writing furiously. When Avery walked in and dropped into a stool he hardly even looked up. She watched him for a second, and when his sentence was complete he looked up with a beaming smile.

"We've got it, Hawke. The full recipe. And I already have everything we need."

Xxxxxx

It took two days for everything to be completed. The recipe was fairly simple: equal parts arbor blessing and amrita vein, mixed with an elfroot vinegar and the dust from a lifestone. The most difficult part was the preparation of the plants. The arbor blessing had to be in the form of a decoction, which meant a quick boil in a carrier liquid. While the amrita vein needed maceration, which was nearly the opposite treatment, requiring a the plant to be ground into a paste before steeping in a cold liquid for 7-12 hours.

"Fitting, I suppose," Anders commented as he put a topper on the final flask and set it in the rack to steep. Avery waited quietly for him to continue.

"That two plants found in vastly different climates require vastly different treatments to be able to work together. It's a wonder that anyone ever stumbled upon this combination at all. Your Knight-Captain sure is fortunate."

"That's not his title," Avery reminded him. Anders only snickered and rolled his eyes. He at least seemed to be more accepting of the idea of her loving a former Templar than he had been before. She could feel an air of heaviness around him, which Avery supposed could have been his disapproval. But it could just as easily have been Justice, or a number of other topics weighing on his mind. He had a wealth of reasons for such a mood already.

"Well Commander, then. Anyway, generations upon generations of Templars probably would have killed for this. But he will get it because of you, you will get it because of me, and I get it because the blighted Calling led me to Weisshaupt. I hope he appreciates just how impossible finding this would have been under literally any other circumstances."

There was little Avery felt the need to say in response. That Cullen would be grateful was both and understatement and a foregone conclusion.

Anders made both the decoction and the maceration in large batches, and while they were waiting for the amrita vein to steep, he pulled her out into the gardens and declared that they might as well get started on teaching her the peculiarities of learning Spirit Healing.

"So this will definitely help me keep the arbor blessing alive?" Avery asked as they made their way toward a far spot in the yard.

Anders nodded. "It'll also help you coax any seeds to sprout more quickly."

Avery smiled gratefully. It seemed surreal so that much was falling into place.

"Since you've recently been in the Fade, you have an extra leg up on this, Hawke," he began. "Our regular healing powers draw from mana, as you know. But Spirit healing calls upon the Spiritual entities that dwell in the Fade to assist in our efforts. These spirits will probably sense the Fade on you, and come to you more easily right now than they normally would. Plus with me to vouch for you, you can probably bypass all the trials and tests they normally put mages through to see if they're worthy. This is a major gift, Hawke. These spirits can protect and restore life with more power than any mage could call upon by themselves. So the first step, and something you must do regularly if you are to remain proficient, is connect with those spirits. Build a relationship with them."

Anders found a sunny spot of ground near a patch of blooming flowers and sat cross legged in the grass, motioning for Avery to join him.

"Regular meditation helps tremendously with this. You'll also find that these spirits will sometimes visit you in your dreams. Whatever you do, don't brush them off because you want to finish having sexy times with the stud you're dreaming about. Your success at Spirit healing is directly tied to the rapport you build with your benefactors. And as I'm sure you'd expect, demons will come to you disguising themselves as these very spirits in an attempt to gain access to your power. You're used to this already of course, but you will have to learn to tell the difference."

Avery thought back to the Fade. If whoever it was that took the form of Justinia had been a good spirit, and it seemed pretty damn clear that it was, she'd certainly failed at building a rapport there. She's simply have to try harder in the future. There was no other choice, really.

"But how do you know whom to trust?" she asked.

"Well, kitten, you have to start by trusting yourself," he said. "Your gut instinct will tell you more in a millisecond than an hour of thought will. Now, do everything I say to do, and we might be able to get this done quickly."

Closing her eyes and crossing her legs, she listened intently to Anders' voice. He dropped it in pitch, speaking soothingly as he took her hand and quietly guided her through numerous relaxation exercises. She followed every directive he gave, focusing on releasing the tension in one muscle group at a time, letting her journey's worries drain out her body, starting from the top of their heads all the way to their toes. It didn't take long before she fell deep into what could only be described as a meditative trance.

When she opened her eyes, the sun was setting. The entire day seemed to have slipped away, and she'd barely felt it as it passed. But her memory was filled with scenes of an otherworldly place, of calm, ethereal voices in her ear and a convergence of peaceful energies that had conversed with her and Anders openly and enthusiastically. She remembered Anders surrounded by lights of a million changing colors, living in a rare peace and harmony with the spirit who shared his body. She remembered warmth coming from his hand and filling more than just her physical form, but bringing with it a sense of awe so intense it would have brought her to tears if she'd been awake. And perhaps she had cried, with eyes closed and mind removed to a timeless place.

What she felt in that place left an imprint on her soul. She felt peace, hope and vitality. She awoke feeling healthier than she'd felt in years, stronger and more vibrant than she'd been even in her youth. She felt like she could run the whole distance back to Skyhold in a single sprint.

Anders' warm brown eyes were watching her as she emerged from the mystical place they'd visited together, and for the first time since he'd appeared before her in the kitchen, she considered what a tragedy it would have been if she'd stuck a dagger in his back all those years ago. She'd still be here, certainly, but she wouldn't be leaving with the gifts that he'd bestowed. His help with the potion for starters, but now this… this new learning that would change the way she healed forever.

And there was something else there between her and Anders, a new understanding. It seemed that they had communed in that strange place somehow, that their souls had touched more than just their Spirit visitors, but also each other. She knew now that he felt the weight of every death that he'd caused back in Kirkwall, that he'd spent the last three years healing and serving his fellow Thedosians indiscriminately, trying his damndest to atone for the atrocity he'd been pushed to commit. It seemed she had felt everything that he had, both before Kirkwall and after. She suddenly knew firsthand the force that had compelled Anders to make a bomb and secret it away within the most holy of places. It had all been well beyond his control. Justice, or more accurately named Vengeance, had pushed him toward its own ends with every means available. Vengeance had tortured his mind and his body relentlessly, picking and nagging, filling his body with urges, until Anders inevitably weakened and gave in, submitting to the promise that doing so might bring him rest.

And she'd heard the Calling, as faint as it had become. It was more than just a song, though it was certainly as beautiful as the stories claimed. It was almost a spell of its own, thick and invasive in her mind, vibrating with the terrifying portent of an imminent and violent ending. Whatever resentment remained for the Wardens and their actions at Adamant was now gone. They'd been just as compelled as Anders had been.

Avery's life seemed positively blessed in comparison to what she felt in while connected to Anders in that place. She'd never had a force within trying to control her toward actions she despised, never had her freedom and will negated by a powerful puppetmaster with its own agenda. In fact, her life had been one of extraordinary and uncommon freedom, from the moment she'd been born to parents who vowed never to subject their magical children to the stifling cruelties of the Circle.

She also knew that Anders felt her love for Cullen now, and that there would be no more silent disapproval. When she'd decided to seek the gift of Spiritual healing, she had no idea it would come with such profound understanding. The spirit that had touched her the most, whose fingerprint felt deeply embedded into her very essence, had clearly been that of compassion, drawn to the natural well of it that she already carried.

And she already had such a similar friend, had already been touched by the blessings of compassion back at Skyhold. He wasn't the same entity Avery had communed with in her mind, but Cole too fulfilled the same purpose, and did so against all adversity, offering healing to those who needed it in the same way that her new spirit friends would. She felt a new connection to him, and to all the spirits wandering the Fade offering their assistance. She vowed to seek Cole out as soon as she returned home to Skyhold, so that she could wrap her arms around him and tell him he was deeply appreciated, regardless of what anyone else at Skyhold had to say. She would assure him that he would always, always have a friend.

With the amrita vein steeped, and another break for a cup of tea and plate of food completed, Anders began his next lesson. She'd added several sheets of parchment to her copy of what they'd recorded from the journals, and stood by the table with the complicated network of tubes and burners, taking meticulous notes about everything she saw. She drew pictures of the flasks, the burners, how things sat upon their rack, and every piece of the equipment being used, labeling each drawing as best as she could. She jotted down every step in the process once Anders began processing the prepped components, stopping to add Anders' sidenotes and helpful tips to its own page. From beginning to end they followed the information they'd taken from the journal, and Avery was surprised when the entirety of the mixing was completed in less than twenty minutes.

"Most of the real work happens in the preparation, as you saw. But we'll run through this again in the morning. And then I'll let you give it a go on your own," he said as he uncorked a shaker and poured the completed Dragon's Breath into its own sterile vial. The fluid was thick and orange but it seemed to breathe with life, shimmering with changing veins of red and yellow.

"Well I can see how it got its name," Avery commented. Anders cast her a blank look. "It looks like fire, doesn't it? You know, that hot stuff that Dragons spray at you?"

Anders snorted, "maybe at you. There's a reason I always stayed at the back of the group."

He held it up to the light and watched as the concoction continued to churn, nodding as he seemed to finally register the subtly changing colors. Even after it settled it still seemed to be moving. The flecks of lifestone dust reflected back tiny pieces of light that were colored with its orange hue.

"Too bad we can't test it," she sighed.

Anders laughed. "Seriously. Where are all the detoxing Templars when you need them? So much for serving the people."

Xxxxxx

The last thing she expected when she saw the stablehand walking toward her with her horse, was sadness at leaving Weisshaupt. She hadn't wanted to come at all, and had dreaded her stay there for the entire trip in. And the last thing that she had expected to feel anytime she'd ever considered prospect of seeing Anders again was an overwhelming appreciation and affection. She most especially wasn't expecting this new reluctance to leave him behind again. But there she was, standing just inside the outer gate of Weisshaupt, her mind racing through any justification she could imagine as to why she needed to bring Anders back to Skyhold with her. That last year in Kirkwall had been an anomaly, and she knew now that was not her Anders at all. She'd always thought back then that that wasn't the Anders she knew, the one who'd been her best friend, and she was right. What had existed between them for the bulk of their years together, running even deeper than any romantic entanglement they'd embroiled themselves in, had been a true, genuine friendship. Anders was always generous with his knowledge and skills, teaching her everything she'd ever missed out on by not living in the Circle. And what he taught her in their more intimate moments had continued to enrich her and Cullen's life as well. Whatever greatness existed within Avery that had allowed her to become the Champion of Kirkwall, had existed at least in part because of Anders, even if things had all fallen apart in the end. She could even credit Anders with driving her toward the man she was truly meant for.

When she finally grabbed Anders up in a parting hug, she found it nearly impossible to let go. There was no mistaking the tears streaming down his cheeks after he'd eventually broke away.

"You have to go, Hawke," he said with a sniffle. "You have to go heal your Templar, and make lots of confused babies."

She laughed, feeling her own eyes fill again. In her pouch at her hip were three vials that gleamed and flickered like fire, in her pack was a new portfolio of papers, detailing everything she might ever need to know about the production of her new potion. And nestled beside that portfolio was a satchel of arbor blessing and amrita vein seeds, along with a pouch of lifestone dust, and two rather large, whole stones. The greatest gem in the collection was a cutting of Anders' arbor blessing, its stem wrapped in a moistened cloth and buried in a little leather cup.

"You'll need to use your new healing to keep this bud healthy while you travel," he said when he presented it to her. "It'll be good practice."

Avery nodded again, giving his shoulder one last squeeze before turning to take the reins of her horse.

"You'll write me won't you?" Anders asked.

"Of course I will. As soon as we work out whatever's wrong with those blighted birds," Avery answered before mounting her horse and turning alone toward the path leading deep in to the mountains.