Wow, this Chapter turned out longer than I expected it to be! Still, I'm rather proud of how it turned out :D Please give feedback on this one, I want to know what you all think!
Enjoy!
Alistair was happier than he'd been in his entire life. The shouts of children filled the street in front of Goldanna's house in Denerim as he played with his nieces and nephews, allowing them to be the knights while he played the evil dragon they were slaying. Goldanna hovered in the doorway with a broad smile, staying where she could still see the mince meat pies she was cooking.
Everything was perfect.
Well…no, not quite…
"Alistair!"
Now it was.
Alistair looked up and beamed when he saw Aurora approaching him, hair done up in that usual bun, wearing a soft blue blouse and black trousers, her mother's boots fitting snug on her feet as she approached the group.
"Hey!" Alistair laughed as one of the children wrapped around his neck. "Glad you could join us! Goldanna's cooking dinner!"
Aurora smiled at him, deep blue eyes sparkling with joy. "Oh, really? I do love her pies," Aurora said wistfully. When she reached him she gave him a warm hug, a content smile on her face.
Alistair shifted uncomfortably. When…when had she been okay with so much contact from…no, it was no matter! He shouldn't complain. He hugged her back, breaking away with a grin as he wrestled his nephew off from around his neck.
"Well don't leave her lingering in the street, Alistair, invite her inside!" Goldanna chided him, and Alistair blushed.
"Do you, ah…do you want to stay for dinner?" Alistair asked, running his fingers through his hair nervously and pulling at the tips. Aurora lit up.
"Of course I'd like to stay! Let me just tell Father and Mother where I'll be and then I'll be back."
Alistair frowned, that detail bothering him for some reason. "Mother?"
Aurora gave him an odd look. "Yes, my mother, why wouldn't I tell her too? I don't want her setting some pheasant aside tonight if I'm going to be eating here."
Alistair's frown deepened. "Pheasant? What's the special occasion?"
"There's no special occasion, Alistair, it's just pheasant…you're acting odd. What's wrong?" Aurora asked, approaching him again. Alistair was looking down at her boots, his fingers prodding for the runic token he kept on hand to give his fingers something to do. He couldn't find it. He never went anywhere without that token.
"Alistair, what's wrong?" Aurora asked again, placing a hand on his jaw and turning his head more towards her. He was still looking at her boots, but he stiffened at the intimate feel of the contact. This wasn't right…this wasn't right at all. He needed to get out of here. Maybe if he was somewhere else he could clear his head.
Alistair gently grasped her wrist and pulled her hand from her face, studying her cautiously. "I…I just remembered I need to be somewhere…it was important."
He did…he had been doing something important…and Aurora had been there too.
Aurora laughed, hand grasping his. "What are you talking about? Come on, let's just go have dinner with your sister."
Alistair stepped away, shaking his head as he pulled their hands apart. "No, this isn't right. Aurora doesn't like being touched, especially not by human men. Her family's too poor to have pheasant regularly, she said herself it was a treat on some rare special occasions if it could be managed…and her mother died when she was little. You're not her." Alistair looked at the Denerim street around him, the colors seeming…duller now. All the children were staring at him in confusion. "And if you're not real, none of this is either."
"Alistair, you're being ridiculous—come and have some tea," Goldanna enticed, smile warm and inviting…but it…it wasn't right. Aurora wasn't right, and…how had he even gotten here in the first place? When had he been reunited with Goldanna? When had Aurora returned to Denerim?
As he tried to think back, he realized those crucial details were missing from his memory, and when he reached, he thought of something else entirely. A tower…the Circle…it was under attack, and there were demons…a mage named Anders…a finger brushing gently along his lip…a white stone with a golden rune…
A sloth demon.
"This is a dream…it's not real," Alistair suddenly murmured, and Goldanna turned scolding.
"Of course it's real! Now wash up before supper and I—"
"No, I have to go," Alistair said with more strength in his words, stepping away from Goldanna and not-Aurora.
"No! You're ours, and I'd rather see you dead than free!" Goldanna suddenly snarled in a demonic voice, she and Aurora turning into desire demons before his very eyes while the children morphed into walking corpses. Alistair swallowed his horror at the sight, reaching instinctively for his sword and shield that seemed to just…appear.
It was a tough fight with just him to stand against the demons and the corpses, but he managed, breathing heavily as he stood in the middle of a smattering of defeated corpses and the two demons. Looking around him he saw that Denerim had washed away, and he was now standing in this strange, hauntingly beautiful place of green sky, twisted floating islands…
Was he…in the Fade?
Without the demons around to keep him under their spell, Alistair's mind cleared. They'd been in the Circle, and had just walked through the door to another room to find a sloth demon. It had spoken in such soothing tones, its words lulling him into oblivion. He remembered passing out before it was even finished, and then he just remembered Goldanna.
What about the others? Aurora? Were they here too? Had they been trapped in the Fade as well? Did they realize it was a dream?
Alistair cast his gaze about, noticing the swirling…purple portal up ahead. Taking a deep breath, he focused on his desire to find Aurora in the Fade and stepped through.
"There! She's over there!" Alistair pointed out in relief. His first step through the Fade portal had led him not to Aurora but—in a cruel twist of fate—to Morrigan. The woman had been well aware she was in the Fade, and it had not been hard to defeat the one demon that had been in Morrigan's little Fade realm. Why did he have two demons and an army of walking corpses while Morrigan only had one measly demon?
Once the demon Flemeth had been put down, Morrigan quickly seized control to guide them through the Fade, as only mages were supposed to do so successfully.
"Of course she's here—I told you earlier that I would lead us to her," Morrigan said in irritation, but Alistair wasn't paying much attention. He was too busy taking in Aurora's dream.
It was so simple, and so close to his own that his heart ached for her. They were in a small shack with no doors and two rooms. He could see the second room housed bunk beds, but the room they were in was sparsely decorated with the bare necessities, a vase of flowers sitting on a dresser next to a footlocker. At a rickety wooden table sat five people—Aurora, for one, was sitting with her hair down and cascading over her shoulders and down to about midway down her chest, an old elven man with silvery hair and weathered, tired, but still happy features, an elven young woman with fiery red hair and mischievous features, a timid looking elven young man with shaggy red hair, and an older elven woman with Aurora's blonde hair and blue eyes, though her hair was cut short to her ears. A well-cooked pheasant sat like a centerpiece on the table with a few rolls and a measly salad, and the group took small portions, but they were all smiling and laughing. There was an empty seat at the table next to Aurora, and Alistair took a step forward.
"Morrigan," he said softly before they were noticed. "Will you let me handle this one? Please? Aurora's not going to be appreciative of a rude awakening from this dream."
Morrigan huffed, but understanding flickered in her amber eyes before she turned and walked out the door.
Alistair took a few more steps forward before anyone noticed him, and the first person to do so was Aurora herself. She looked up at him and the biggest smile he'd seen on her face yet appeared, feeding his guilt at shattering this happiness she'd found in a few moments.
"Alistair! I didn't know you'd be here!" she stated happily, standing up from the table to approach him. She gently tugged on his sleeve like an excited child, bringing him closer to her fake family. Maker, why did this have to break his heart so much before he even tried to wake her up? "Here, I want to introduce you."
"You don't have to—" he started to say, but he was cut off by the red headed female.
"Cousin, is this the friend you mentioned? You didn't say anything about him being a shemlen," the woman said in shock, speaking the word much as some humans would say knife-ear.
"Shianni!" Aurora reprimanded. "I didn't mention he's human because it doesn't matter."
The fake-Shianni scowled, but seemed to realize this was an argument she wasn't going to win and held her tongue.
"Did you come here by yourself? That's dangerous for your kind, you know," the woman Alistair assumed was supposed to be Aurora's mother asked him, and Alistair pretended not to understand the double meaning in her words.
"I was left relatively alone—it wasn't that hard when I knew where I wanted to go," Alistair said with a weak smile as Aurora pulled him closer to where she'd been sitting. He'd just play along now and try to drop enough subtle hints for Aurora to start piecing things together on her own.
The older man rose to his feet, stretching out his hand. "Cyrion Tabris—pleasure to meet you, Alistair," the man said carefully, and Alistair shook his hand without hesitation.
"And you, Sir," Alistair said politely. The red headed male elf only nodded at him.
"I'm Soris."
"I'm Adaia, Aurora's mother," Aurora's fake mother said with a warm smile. "I'm sorry we can't offer much more of a meal—"
"Oh, it's no problem at all," Alistair cut her off in assurance, flashing her a smile. "I'm used to quick, small meals on the road."
"Of course, how silly of me—I forgot that you were a Grey Warden," Adaia said, putting some of the pheasant on his plate.
"So, what's the special occasion?" Alistair asked, nodding to the pheasant. He received a few confused looks from the fakes.
"What do you mean?" Cyrion asked.
"Well, Aurora told Leliana and me the other day that you only have pheasant on special occasions," Alistair said easily. Adaia laughed.
"Oh, of course. No special occasion—we just decided to treat ourselves. Pheasant isn't that hard to get, anyway."
Alistair glanced at Aurora out of the corner of his eyes—she was frowning at her mother, a small crease appearing at the top of the bridge of her nose. However, it didn't look like she was going to say anything, so Alistair pressed a different conversation line.
"Speaking of Leliana, she fancies the boots you made Aurora and wondered if it would be too much to ask for a pair for herself—she has this fascination with shoes," Alistair said with a chuckle.
Adaia smiled. "Perhaps—I'd like to meet this Leliana first."
"Of course—Aurora said as much," Alistair said graciously. "I don't have anything made for me by my mother, but I used to have something of my mother's—an amulet. But I got so angry when I was sent to the Chantry as a child that I threw it at the wall and it shattered. Stupid, stupid thing to do," Alistair said mournfully, careful to echo parts of his statement word for word.
Alistair shook his head. "Pardon my manners, I shouldn't bring up something so grim."
"No, it's quite all right," Adaia said carefully, but the woman was watching him with sharp eyes.
She should have been watching Aurora, like Alistair was doing from the corner of his eyes. Aurora touched her head like she had the sudden onset of a headache, and under the table, out of the view of the fake family, Alistair fished around for the rune she'd given him moments before they'd entered the room with the sloth demon. Once the stone was in his hand, he pressed the stone gently into her thigh to get her attention, and she glanced down, taking it into her own hand. The woman almost dropped the stone after a moment, and she looked up at him with eyes filled with remembrance and pain. Maker, he hated to be the one to shatter this dream for her.
She seemed to be looking for his confirmation, so Alistair imperceptivity nodded his head, taking the stone back when she offered it to him. She suddenly looked sick, staring down at the scraps left on her plate.
"Are you all right, dear?" Adaia asked in concern. Aurora looked up at her, and the mask that fell over her face was so flawless Alistair had to repress a shiver.
"Of course, I'm fine—I was just thinking about Alistair's story. Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Do you want me to help clean up, Mama?"
Adaia smiled at her. "That would be lovely darling, thank you."
The two women stood up, started to gathering the dishes and leftovers. Soris and Shianni struck up conversation while Cyrion stared off in deep thought. Alistair watched the two women.
Adaia started to hum something, and Aurora stilled for just a moment before she fell back into her charade. "Mama, what about that fallen goddess song you usually sing? I love that one…"
Adaia laughed. "If you love it so much, maybe you should sing it—we hardly get to hear you sing around this house."
"That's because you're the one with the songbird voice, Mama."
"How about a deal—If you start, I might join in."
Aurora laughed lightly. "All right, fine, you win this one, Mama," Aurora teased, starting to clean one of the plates. She was silent for a few moments, and Alistair wondered what she was doing, trying to stay relaxed despite his nerves. Was she quietly defying that she had to leave? Silently asking through actions that he leave her to this dream?
Aurora started to sing, apparently giving into her fake mother's deal, though her song choice was…peculiar. "I'm just a goddess who's fallen from grace, in a weak moment in doubt of my faith. I danced with a demon and I'm so ashamed. He never mentioned that I'd have to pay." Alistair's eyebrows rose at the lyrics, Adaia humming along a tune while Aurora sang the song. Aurora's voice wasn't that of a bard's, but it was still…beautiful in its own way. Still, the song choice made his heart ache for her, watching her every movement as she sang and washed dishes. "Beautiful fiction he made me believe, love and affection from him would come cheap. But I'm in the red, and now I'm on the run. I wanna go home, I don't know what I've done. Heaven help us, be the compass, out of darkness, cause I'm a fallen goddess, finding my way back home."
Alistair's gaze didn't miss when she calmly reached for the carving knife, carefully cleaning it casually at her fake mother's side. Alistair discreetly rose to his feet and stretched, waiting for the moment to shatter. Any time now, surely…
Aurora continued her song, voice unfaltering, though Alistair wondered if it caused her any pain. He mourned for her hearing it.
"I'm just a goddess that's fatally lost. I tried to be something I know that I'm not. I danced with a demon and I'm so ashamed, too far down a road to go back where I came. Heaven help us, be the compass, out of darkness, cause I'm a fallen goddess, finding my way back home."
Alistair almost couldn't take the suspense anymore as Aurora carefully shook water off the knife and started to dry it, looking like she was taking her time to avoid cutting herself. He wondered if she was going to use it or if she was going to try and talk her way out as Alistair had.
"I'm just a goddess that's fallen from grace, in a weak moment in doubt of my faith. I danced with a demon and I'm so ashamed. He never mentioned that I'd have to—"
Even Alistair jumped when Aurora suddenly twisted the dagger to the side and drove it into her fake mother's chest, face blank while the fake Adaia stared at her in shock.
"Da'len…" the fake Adaia whispered, and Aurora's mask cracked. Alistair looked away in that second, realizing he couldn't bear to see that pain in Aurora's face.
"Don't little one me," Aurora accused, though her voice shook. "You're not my mother."
"I could have been. You could have been happy here…at peace."
"Lathbora viran. That's what this place is. It's empty complacency you offer me, not peace," Aurora returned. Alistair dared to look at her again only to immediately look away—tears were streaking down her face. He reached for his sword as the shock wore off from the other three, ready to fend them off. Adaia's voice changed to that demonic reverberating kind that his fake Goldanna had possessed.
"Foolish child! Wallow in your cruel, cold reality then! Go to the place you once called home…and find the streets running red with elven blood…for your actions! You knew…when you…struck…it was…inevitable! You doomed them…just…like…you…always…do."
Aurora's jaw clenched, tears streaming forth from her eyes as they burned with pain and anger and determination. "Banal nadas—nothing is inevitable!"
Aurora let the body drop to the ground, and Alistair drew his sword, cutting down the fake Soris, Shianni, and Cyrion while Aurora stood over the desire demon on the floor no longer wearing her mother's face. Alistair approached the woman carefully, standing a good arm's reach away in silence before he finally gathered the courage to rouse her.
"Are you all right?" he asked. It was a stupid thing to ask—she obviously wasn't, but what else could he say?
"No," she said bluntly, voice flat and emotionless, far removed from where they were now as she was swept up in her thoughts and retreated into herself. "But it doesn't matter, does it?"
Aurora straightened and turned to him, a mask of calm perfectly fixed over her features. It was a little chilling, considering she'd just put a knife through the chest of something that had looked and sounded like her mother. "Thank you…for waking me up," she said in a bare whisper before launching back into business. "Where are we? I remember the sloth demon, but…"
"The Fade. I've already found Morrigan, so I suspect the others are trapped in similar dreams. We should probably try to find them and figure out how to get out of here," Alistair said, still studying her emotional state. She looked a lot like she had when she arrived at Ostagar. It made Alistair wonder what had happened to her to bring her to the Grey Wardens.
Go to the place you once called home and find the streets running red with elven blood for your actions! You knew when you struck it was inevitable! You doomed them just like you always do.
Now wasn't the time for those questions. As much as he wanted to offer her comfort, they had to get out of the Fade, and they had to finish liberating the Circle before more lives were lost.
But later…later, he would make sure she really was all right.
"Let's go, then," Aurora said, and Alistair fell into his normal place at her side, but he refrained from speaking, letting her have her space. Morrigan seemed to sense Aurora needed space and silence as well, and she did not bother the elven woman either.
"Maker's breath, if I never see the Fade again, it will be too soon!" Aurora lamented as they finally made it to the center of Sloth's lair.
They had been roaming for hours—and by they, she meant only Alistair, Morrigan, and herself—fighting demons, shades, golems, darkspawn, flaming darkspawn, ogres, abominations, crazy mages, chantry sisters with daggers, Templars, flaming Templars, corpses, mabari, arcane horrors, and pretty much anything nasty in the world. Despite how mad she was, she didn't want to kill anything because she was tired of killing things—she just wanted out of the Maker-Forsaken Fade. As if all the creatures attacking them hadn't been enough, she also had been given shape-shifting forms by other dreamers in the Fade and had been running around on occasion as a rat, burning skeleton, arcane horror, and a golem. Sometimes, she was the only one who could reach certain areas because of those forms and had to clear said areas on her own before returning to their group. That wasn't always what she wanted to do, especially when one of those times she went through a rat hole and found herself toe to toe with an ogre. That had not been a fight she'd wanted to take on alone, but she had to, and it wasn't the only fight she'd ended up having to solo.
Still, it was almost over now. Now they just had to finish off Sloth and they would be free from this blighted place.
The only thing she'd miss would be the golem form. Despite being slow, she'd taken a secret pleasure in being able to squish their opponents so easily. And she did like the magical abilities that came with the burning skeleton form and the arcane horror form. Alas, she was not born a mage—which was probably best since she already had all the elven problems to deal with, she wasn't sure adding mage problems would be in her best interest—so she'd be losing the skills once they left.
It was far better than never leaving, though.
"There, up ahead," Alistair pointed out, and Aurora focused on the cursed demon at the center of the island that was the cause for her headache.
"Good, I'm tired of these games and I'm ready to go home," Aurora growled, hands gripping to the handle of her sword and dagger as they approached the Sloth demon.
"What do we have here?" Sloth purred as they approached. "A rebellious minion, an escaped slave…my, my, but you do have some gall. But playtime is over. You all have to go back now."
"You made a dangerous enemy, demon, by toying with my mind," Morrigan threatened, staff clutched tight in her hand. As she spoke, the air around them seemed to shimmer, and the companions they'd rescued only for them to disappear in puffs of white smoke reappeared, looking a little dazed but ready for a fight. Alaron barked happily to see Aurora, and Sten rolled his shoulders with a growl.
"I am here, and it is time to finish this. I have had enough of cages," the Qunari snarled. Wynne seemed just as determined.
"You will not hold us demon! We found each other in this place, and you cannot stand against us!" Wynne announced, her voice ringing clear and true.
Sloth continued to speak in his purred tone, as if trying to lull them to sleep once more—he probably was, but they were too aware to fall for his trick again. "If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time. I'll make you much happier."
Aurora's eyes flashed dangerously as she thought of the picturesque reality the demon had thought up for her, one with her mother still alive, her family whole, no arranged marriages…but it was a lie—a cruel, cold lie that she refused to live. She had accepted long ago that her life would never be the same, and she would not be lulled into a false sense of peace. Peace didn't belong in her life, not anymore. She was hardwired for fighting, for resistance—not a peaceful life in the Alienage she'd always longed to escape.
"I'll make my own happiness, thank you," Aurora said stiffly, shifting her stance so she was ready to attack.
"Can't you think about someone other than yourself? I'm hurt! So very, very hurt," Sloth replied.
"I'll take my chances. I'll do nothing you say," Aurora spat, drawing her blades halfway out of their sheaths. Her companions were likewise drawing their weapons as Sloth snarled at them.
"You wish to battle me! So be it—you will learn to bow to your betters, mortal!" Sloth thundered, the entire area lighting up with white light.
The battle seemed to pass in a haze for Aurora. She changed as she felt she needed to as Sloth engaged them, shifting forms from one to the other to make their lives all the more difficult. Most of the time she found herself attacking from a range in her arcane horror form because it was far more effective against some of Sloth's trickier forms, but Alistair, Sten, and Alaron were always right up front fighting Sloth, Aurora occasionally joining them while Wynne and Morrigan remained behind.
Sloth's shapes all blurred together for Aurora while she fought, from ogre to rage demon, abomination to shade, and arcane horror to sloth, it didn't matter. She just knew that the battle felt long, even in the Fade, and that she wanted it to be over.
Eventually she staggered to a stop, realizing that there wasn't a demon to pummel with golem fists or freeze with arcane horror magic anymore, that the fighting was over. Exhausted, Aurora struggled to remain on her own two feet and resisted stumbling over to the nearest support.
They'd defeated Sloth…now what?
Something flashed in her peripherals, and Aurora looked up to see a very hesitant mage timidly stepping through. It was Niall—the mage whose body Sloth had been standing over back in reality, the one who had the Litany of Adralla, whom they had managed to find while they were running around the Fade trying to get to Sloth.
"You defeated the demon. I never thought…I never expected you to free yourself, to free us both," Niall said in amazement as he approached them, looking around at the haggard group before focusing on Aurora. Maker, it would take everything in her power not to just lie down and go back to sleep when they woke up if she was still this tired when they left the Fade. "When you return, take the Litany of Adralla from my…body. It will protect you from the worst of the blood magic."
Aurora blinked in surprise. Why was he talking like that, when he was right before them, surely still alive…unless he was another Maker-forsaken demon, which she highly doubted. "Your body?"
Niall looked at her mournfully. "I cannot go with you—I have been here far too long. For you, it will have been an afternoon's nap. Your body won't have wasted away in the real world while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon."
"You think you're going to die?"
"Every minute I was here, the sloth demon was feeding off of me, using my life to fuel the nightmares of this realm. There's so little of me left. I was never meant to save the Circle or…survive its troubles. I am dying, it is as simple as that," Niall announced. His acceptance of the fact was rather…eerie, though if he wasn't too disturbed by the thought, if he'd managed to make peace with the fact that he was basically already dead, she wouldn't push him and open the wound further.
"I'm sorry I could not rescue us earlier," Aurora said sincerely, sheathing her blades with hands that trembled from exhaustion. She made sure to grip the handles tight to keep anyone from noticing.
"I do not fear what may come. They say we return to the Maker in death, and that isn't such a terrible thing. My only regret is that I could not save the Circle, but you, you can. Take the Litany off my…my body when you return. It is important!"
Now he was just starting to repeat himself. Maker, she couldn't take any more circles—in any form, conversational, structural, anything. "I will."
Niall smiled bitterly. "I'm not a hero…perhaps trying to be one was foolish."
Aurora shook her head, reaching forward to clasp the mage's arm comfortingly. "Ordinary people can do great things when they have to."
"Dark times, greater acts of heroism, eh? You may be right," Niall said, appearing a little more comforted. "Before I was taken to the Circle, my mother said I was meant for greatness—I would be more than my ancestors ever could have dreamed. I hope I haven't disappointed her…"
"I'm sure she's very proud of you," Aurora said softly, masking the old stab that went through to her heart whenever a mother and loss of some kind were associated with one another.
Niall smiled, though Aurora realized she couldn't feel him anymore, and that the world around her was quickly fading as Niall spoke.
"It is time for us both to be on our way. Remember the Litany of Adralla. The Circle is all that matters now. Thank you, and goodbye…friend."
When Aurora's eyes fluttered open, she was expecting to see a stone ceiling. What she saw instead was a familiar pair of honey and bronze eyes gazing at her in obvious concern, though they weren't close enough to cause her any alarm. Groaning, Aurora slowly sat up, resting her face in her palm as she rubbed slow but deep circles along her temple.
"Can we never do that again?" Aurora murmured without even looking to see who was already awake to hear her statement other than Alistair.
"Well, I'm not planning any vacations there, if that's what you're asking," Alistair mused, causing her lips to twitch towards a smile. She felt his hand rest gently on her back, and glanced over at him curiously at the gesture that was far more intimate than any he'd shown her so far. "Are you all right?" he asked her in clear concern. She moved to immediately deny there was anything wrong, that he didn't need to worry about her falling apart like the fragile elven woman others must see her as…but that instinct melted in the face of him, and she found the truth tumbling softly from her lips for his ears only.
"Just worn out—all that running around in the Fade did a number on me. I've got enough energy to finish clearing this tower for the mages, though—Greagoir's Right won't wait for me to take a power nap any more than we already have."
Alistair gave her a worried look, but to her relief he didn't press that she stay at the back or avoid the fighting or any other kind of comment that would have made her feel like he thought she was a delicate fighter. Instead, he nodded and helped her to her feet.
"Just be careful, all right? I'll watch your back."
Aurora smiled gently at him. "And I'll watch yours." `
Alistair returned her smile, hefting his shield up onto his arm. "All right, we should probably get a move on—there's not that much left of the tower to clear. The Harrowing Chamber should be just beyond the Templar Quarters, which would be where we're at right now."
"Not that much farther, then…I can live with that," Aurora said with a sigh, glancing around at her other companions. "Everyone ready?"
"As much as we can be," Wynne said tiredly, and Aurora suddenly didn't want to complain about how tired she felt—she could only imagine how Wynne felt at the moment.
"Let's go, then," Aurora said with a sigh, taking the lead with Alistair falling to her side by default. They had hardly made it through the door and into the next room when Aurora was met with a sight that would have awed her if she hadn't been fed up with all the surprises she kept getting from this tower that day.
"You've got to be—a blighted drake? Now we're dealing with giant winged lizards? Good to know!" Aurora fumed as she fell back and let Alistair take the lead, protected by his shield as she tried to figure out just how she was going to face the creature. At least it wasn't a full sized high dragon or anything—that would have been a true nightmare. Luckily, a high dragon wouldn't fit in the Circle Tower, so she was safe. Ice spells sailed over their heads from Morrigan and Wynne, slowing down the fire breathing creature immensely while Alistair and Sten charged the creature head on. Aurora sidled to the side, examining the drake's armor and looking for some sort of weakness she could exploit without putting herself at too much risk. When she found once, she darted in while the drake was distracted, sinking her knife into the vulnerable spot of the creature's underbelly. The drake roared, it's hind legs swatting at her, but she had already withdrawn, and Sten had taken the creature's momentary distraction as a chance to plunge his sword into the drake's neck.
The drake let out a terrible screech, but it was already defeated, dropping to the ground with a slick thud as drake blood pooled across the stone floor. Aurora sighed, looking over at Alistair. "Maker, what's next? Where in Andraste's name did this thing even come from? Who keeps a blighted drake in a Circle Tower?"
"Who knows," Alistair mumbled, refraining from sheathing his sword and instead keeping it firmly in hand. Aurora decided that she was going to do the same thing instead of sheath her swords for a later time.
It was a good thing they didn't sheath their swords, as in the next few rooms they came across what Aurora would call a small hive of dragonlings, and they had to quickly dispose of the vicious chirping creatures in their fight to get up the next few floors to the Harrowing Chamber. The fleshy pink substance all over the walls was only getting worse, and Aurora was doing her best to ignore the smell and sight. At the very least, the creatures were doing her a service by distracting her from the horrifying scenery around her.
They passed through a few more floors that were eerily sparse in population, though the dragonlings had long since disappeared and they were back to facing regular abominations. Aurora didn't know which one she preferred, the twisted mage creatures or the little dragons.
Either way, it was almost over. They'd reached the better Templar lodgings—or at least what must have been the better lodgings before the horrendous redecorating.
Then, just before the Harrowing Chamber, Aurora saw one more new thing, except this time it was good news, and she was sure her relief was palpable.
As they entered the room that housed the stairs just before the Harrowing Chamber, Aurora's gaze centered in on a lone figure encircled by an ethereal pinkish red glow. They were kneeling in full Templar plate in the middle of intense prayer, and they were the only living thing in a room spattered with the fleshy pink substance and one or two bodies recognizable as Templars.
As they approached, the kneeling Templar—a blonde human man with ragged stubble that looked roughly Alistair's age, perhaps a little younger—looked up at them, tormented exasperation instead of relief crossing his face"
"This trick again? I know what you are. It won't work! I will stay strong!" the man said firmly, fingers clenched tighter together as he turned back to his prayer in an effort to block out the world around him. With that exclamation, Aurora decided to air on the side of caution, approaching the pinkish barrier the Templar was held within.
"Are you all right?" Aurora asked cautiously, eyes doing a quick scan to see if the Templar was injured.
Wynne spoke before the Templar could respond. "The boy is exhausted, and this cage…I've never seen anything like it. Rest easy, help is here," she tried to sooth, but the Templar railed against her efforts.
"Enough visions! If anything in you is human, kill me now and stop this game," the Templar pleaded. His voice cracked as he continued. "You broke the others, but I will stay strong…for my sake…for theirs!"
Suddenly, his tone turned vehement. "Filthy blood mages…getting in my head…I will not break…I'd rather die!"
Aurora's jaw set in firm determination at his words, her protective instinct rearing its head. "You're not going to die, not if I can help it," she stated firmly, gaze unwavering from the tormented Templar. He snapped to his feet with such a quickness Aurora took a step back on a reflex garnered from a life in the Alienage—seeing a fully armored human man move with such quickness and with violence in the action tend to trigger a self-preservation instinct.
"Silence! I'll not listen to anything you say, now be gone!" the Templar snapped, shutting his eyes as he spoke before hesitantly opening his eyes. When she didn't disappear, the color drained from his face and his voice broke several times as he spoke. "Still here? But that's always worked before. I close my eyes, but you are still here when I open them!"
Aurora took a step back up to the pinkish barrier. "I'm real, and I'm here to help you," Aurora said soothingly, voice calm and even as she held the Templar's frenzied gaze. Slowly, the realization that he was not having demon and blood magic induced visions seemed to dawn over the man, and he calmed down a little more, studying Aurora and the group behind her a little more carefully, but not without lack of caution.
"Don't blame me for being cautious. The voices…the images…so real…Did Greagoir send you? How…how did you get here?"
"I'm a Grey Warden, and I'm trying to help save the tower," Aurora said carefully.
"Good. Kill Uldred. Kill them all for what they've done," the Templar said with a thirst for vengeance that Aurora knew well. "They caged us like animals, looked for ways to break us…I'm the only one left. They turned some into…monsters. And…there was nothing I could do."
Maker, she wished the barrier wasn't there so she could offer this man more support than pitiful words and sympathetic looks. "Uldred will pay for what he's done," Aurora promised him, holding his gaze so he could see the promise in her words.
"To think I once felt pity for the Circle! Now I'd like nothing more than to wipe their taint off the face of Thedas!" the Templar growled dangerously, and Aurora's disposition quickly turned wary by the switch. He was distressed, volatile after his torment, and his judgement was likely clouded by his rage. It was best not to react to that statement more than she had to—hopefully it was just something said out of anger.
Hopefully. She didn't want to accidentally empower a zealot over the mages.
"I've heard talk of others. Of survivors," Aurora said carefully.
The Templar scowled. "What others? What are you talking about?" the Templar growled.
"Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred, where are they?" Wynne asked hurriedly.
"They are in the Harrowing Chamber—the sounds coming out of there…oh Maker!" the Templar moaned.
"We must hurry, they are in grave danger, I'm sure of it!" Wynne told Aurora urgently.
"You can't save them! You don't know what they've become…" the Templar snapped. Aurora raised an eyebrow at his reaction. Now she couldn't avoid addressing his comments.
"We can't just kill them all," Aurora returned.
"They've been surrounded b-by blood mages whose wicked fingers snack into your minds and corrupt your thoughts!" the Templar argued, voice warped with distress.
"His hatred of mages is so intense…the memory of his friends' deaths is still fresh in his mind," Alistair whispered behind her. Aurora nodded in agreement with his statement as the Templar continued in angry, agitated tones.
"You have to end it now, before it's too late!"
"I want to save everyone who can possibly be saved," Aurora said calmly.
"Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk? To ensure this horror is ended…to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there!" the Templar said with such finality it was chilling. Did the humans discuss razing a plague infested Alienage this way as well?
Aurora took a breath, preparing for the backlash she was likely about to hear from the Templar for her next words. "I'd rather spare maleficarum than risk harming an innocent."
Wynne breathed a sigh of relief behind her. "Thank you…I knew you would make a rational decision."
"Rational? How is this rational? Do you understand the danger?" the Templar fumed.
"I know full well the dangers of magic, but killing innocents because they might be maleficarum is not justice," Wynne replied patiently. "I know you are angry—"
"You know nothing!" the Templar snapped. "I am thinking about the future of the Circle. Of Ferelden!"
Aurora's eyes flashed danger, but her voice was still the level of calm she'd managed to keep it at during the entire conversation. "I do not want the blood of innocents on my hands."
"I am just willing to see the painful truth, which you are content to ignore!" the Templar fumed. "Oh, but what can I do? As you can see, I am in no position to directly influence your actions, though I would love to deal with the mages myself," the Templar growled through grit teeth.
Aurora bristled at his choice of words, instantly taking part of it as a threat towards herself. She took a moment to calm down, breathing deeply through her nose before she looked back to the Templar. "Perhaps I can find a way to free you," she said softly, deciding to continue to be the one to keep a level head in this conversation.
"Don't waste time on me...deal with Uldred, if that is what you plan to do. Once he is dead, I will be freed," the Templar said resolutely.
Aurora nodded, preparing to turn away. "Stay safe. It will be over soon," Aurora promised the Templar.
"No one ever listens, not until it's far too late. Maker turn his gaze on you, I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all," the Templar stated bitterly before turning back to his intense prayers.
Aurora turned away from the Templar, drawing her blades as she gazed up at the door to the Harrowing Chamber. "Be ready…whatever's on the other side of that door won't be pretty," Aurora murmured.
"Right behind you," Alistair promised quietly, Alaron brushing against her leg as she carefully pushed open the door.
Lightning and other strange lights flashed around the room, accompanied by screams of agony warped into something monstrous. Aurora shivered at the sound, quietly passing the Litany to Wynne as they crested the stairs to see the room before them coated in the pink flesh substance, an alarming amount of mages tied up in different spots around the room and quite a few abominations patrolling the room like hideous guards.
A bald man in mage robes turned as they approached, a cruel twist to his lips and madness in his eyes. "Ah, look what we have here. An intruder. I bid you welcome. Care to join in our…revels?"
Aurora blanched, bringing her blades up at the ready. It wasn't hard to figure out who this man was. "I think I'll just kill you, if that's all right with you."
"Fight if you must!" Uldred crowed. "It will just make my victory all the sweeter!"
"Don't worry—the Litany will thwart Uldred's attempt to control the mages, and win this fight for us!" Wynne whispered.
Aurora didn't even really give her a chance to finish speaking—she was already throwing herself at one of the abominations charging their group, almost missing the moment when Uldred turned himself into a towering demon.
"Pride demon!" Alistair shouted in warning as he charged the creature. An icy ball soared over Aurora's head and froze an abomination in place, and Aurora took the chance to swing around and smash her blade hard enough into the creature it shattered into thousands of pieces before she turned back to the abomination currently boring down on her. Aurora slashed at its middle with her dagger, getting it to stagger back and free up her vision. With that opportunity, Aurora was able to see magic swirling around a few of the mages that were now writhing on the ground.
"Wynne!" Aurora shouted, shoving her sword through her abomination foe's face. Her shout got Wynne's attention, and soon the woman's magical energy was focused beyond her on the mages Uldred must have been trying to do something to. There was a flash of white light, and the mages slumped to the ground, but they weren't monstrous creatures, so she didn't worry, turning instead to the pride demon Uldred that Sten and Alistair were battling. Lightning sparked along its fingers before it slammed both hands against the two men, sending them flying as more mages were suddenly enthralled by Uldred's instant abomination spell. Wynne turned her attention on the mages, and Morrigan worked overtime with ice spells trying to slow down Uldred as he quickly descended on Alistair and Sten. Aurora raced towards the demon, launching herself into the air and easily sliding her daggers into the demon's back. Uldred arched back and roared loud enough to make Aurora's eardrums rattle, and she held on for dear life as Uldred tried to shake her off. Then, much to her alarm and surprise, he suddenly dropped backwards, aiming to crush her between him and the ground. Caught of guard and with no time to think, Aurora launched herself up to his shoulder, managing to get a foothold on the demon's chest as he hit the ground before she found herself in the demon's grasp as it roared in her face. Aurora cried out in pain as it's claws gouged her side and stomach, watching the ground come quickly as it moved to back her repeatedly on the ground.
A flurry of icy spikes suddenly erupted from the ground, halting Uldred's hand's progress, but not allowing Aurora an escape as Uldred struggled to break free. Alistair had been healed by Wynne by now in between all the protecting the old woman was doing for the mages and was up on his feet, racing towards Uldred. Uldred managed to pull against the ice with enough strength to break free, bringing his hand high in the air once again to smash Aurora against the floor. Alistair kicked up and, as Uldred started to sit up, plunged his sword deep into the demon's neck, sawing back and forth for good measure. Pride demon Uldred let out a scream of fury that was quickly dissipating into a gurgle, and his hand fell fast to the ground out of dead weight, Aurora still clutched tight inside.
The impact knocked the wind out of her, and Aurora struggled to breathe as dead weight claws dug into her skin while she was crushed against the floor by the weight of the demon's hand. Aurora struggled to re-catch her breath, short gasps making their way through her lungs here and there as she struggled to break free despite the pain ripping through her middle and side. Sickeningly enough, her blood made it a little easier to slip through the demon's grasp, though she'd only made it part of the way out before Alistair was once again at her side, his strong hands pulling her the rest of the way to safety.
Alistair cursed under his breath as he saw the blood and claw marks, reaching for health poultices in his pack while also waving Wynne over. "You're not allowed to go near anything roughly the size of an ogre or bigger, okay?" Alistair ordered her, voice strained. Aurora laughed once, shortly, before it became painfully apparent that the action caused her too much pain.
"The Archdemon," she replied simply, and Alistair laughed humorlessly.
"At this rate, I might have Sten tie you up when that time comes."
"You know you won't."
"I said I might."
"Hold still, Child," Wynne chided her as she arrived, taking in the injuries and clucking lightly under her tongue. "Now would be about the time I wished I had Anders to help," Wynne murmured.
"How many lyrium potions do you have?" Wynne asked Alistair. He simply shoved the bag over in response, giving Wynne access to anything she might need. Wynne did…something—Aurora wasn't really looking to try and avoid some face and not struggle—and Aurora gasped before she convulsed briefly and cried out in pain. Alistair's arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her partially into his lap and earning a partially disgruntled look from Wynne. "Alistair, why don't you keep her distracted? That will make my job a little easier," Wynne chided him.
"Right, distracted…" Alistair mumbled, eyes darting around like he was trying to find a conversation topic from the ground. Aurora grimaced and stiffened as Wynne did something else, then decided to save him the embarrassment and speak first.
"So…" Aurora said leadingly, waiting until she had his attention to continue. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"
Alistair gave a startled laugh at the topic, and she nearly joined him. Was she delirious with pain, or at least out of it enough that she was willing to ask these kinds of ridiculous questions? Still, he gave her that impish smile, and she found her mind's attention tugged away from the pain.
"Never…never what? Had a good pair of shoes?" he teased lightly. Aurora snorted softly.
"You…you know what I mean," she said, forcing part of her question out through grit teeth. Alistair's grip tightened subconsciously around her at the display of pain.
"I'm not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?" he continued, each ridiculous statement widening her smile a little more.
"Now you're making fun of me," Aurora laughed, and Alistair grinned when he heard the sound.
"Make fun of you, dear lady? Perish the thought!" Alistair scoffed. "Well, tell me: have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"
The way he said it was so obviously provocative that Aurora blushed, which caused a light pink blush to start at the tips of Alistair's ears in response. Though she wanted to answer him, she had to pause and consider if she counted what happened in Denerim as a deflowering.
After a few moments—thinking of how she thought of the incident the few times she let her mind take those dark roads—she decided that while it had come close, they hadn't gotten far enough to truly take her virtue…with what happened to poor Shianni, what happened to Aurora was nothing.
Shoving those dark, dark thoughts away to hopefully never seen the sun again, Aurora finally gave him an answer, feigning pain from Wynne's healing as an excuse for her slight delay in answering. "No, I've never licked a lamppost in winter," she said with a half-smile curl to her lips.
"Good. I hear it's quite painful. I remember one of the younger initiates did it on a dare once, and there was pointing and laughing…oh, the humanity," Alistair lamented, and Aurora laughed before her pained chest protested and the sound turned into a pathetic whimpering laugh of some kind. At least she was still smiling, and Alistair took that as his cue to keep going. "I, myself, have also never done it. That. Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but…you know…"
"You've never had the opportunity?" Aurora asked with an arched brow.
"Well, living in the Chantry is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women such as yourself. That's not so bad, is it?" Alistair asked, suddenly timid, but Aurora had zoned in on two specific words in his statement: gentleman and beautiful.
A gentleman…there weren't hardly enough of those in the world, unfortunately. Plenty who pretended to be one, but hardly any who were one. A gentleman was a rare specimen…and there was a true one indeed right before her.
And he had just called her beautiful.
This human man before her had called her beautiful and had meant it, without any ulterior motives.
Who had been the last person to call her beautiful outside of family? She could recall no one.
"You…" Aurora swallowed around the warm bashfulness that suddenly rose in her chest, peering up at him hesitantly from under her eyelashes. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"Of course you are, and you know it," Alistair chided her. "You're ravishing, resourceful, and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."
Aurora cringed at the thought. "I would never hurt you," she told him softly, trying to look away but caught by his own gaze focusing on her with unexpected intensity.
"Nor I, you," he stated, his voice soft and sincere, causing her thick wall to crumble just a little more around this one man. Alistair cleared his throat, ears flushing a deeper color now. "But, that's enough of that, your risqué talk is making my ears blush!" he teased, falling back into the usual teasing banter they'd been sharing.
Aurora clucked her tongue. "I wanted to see how red I could get them before I was healed. Damn, another plan thwarted."
Alistair chuckled, glancing down at her wounds. "Feeling better?"
Aurora blinked. She'd forgotten about them already, though his question reminding her of her wounds brought the pain back to the front of her mind. At least it wasn't as crushing of a pain as it had been before Wynne healed her. It was more like a crippling ache that she felt she could survive walking through.
"I'll survive moving around, if that's what you're asking. Help me up?"
Alistair helped Aurora rise to her feet, standing resolute while Aurora weaved and tried to get herself under control again. Once she was stable, she gave Alistair a small nod and a smile of thanks before making her way over to where the surviving mages had congregated. The others fell into step behind her, and an old man with grey hair and a beard stood up as she approached—possibly Irving.
"Maker. I'm too old for this," the old man said in a croaked voice. Wynne confirmed Aurora's suspicion in the next moment.
"Irving, are you all right?"
"I've—" Irving paused to grunt in pain. "Been better…but I am thankful to be alive. I suppose that is your doing, isn't it, Wynne?"
"I wasn't alone. I had help," Wynne stated, nodding to Aurora's group. Irving bowed graciously.
"The Circle owes both of you a debt we will never be able to repay." Irving sighed, looking around at his fellow mages before turning his attention back to Aurora. "Come, the Templars await. We shall let them know that the tower is once again ours."
Aurora nodded. "The way down is mostly clear—lead on, First Enchanter."
"I'll need someone to guide me down the stairs. Ah, curse whoever insisted the Circle be housed in a tower…"
Aurora grimaced. She entirely sympathized with that issue. However, she needn't have bothered worrying about, as Anders said, falling down the stairs and breaking her neck, as Alistair wordlessly took up position beside her to help her down. Wynne was the one to assist the first enchanter, and slowly they started their descent back to the ground level with all the surviving mages from the Harrowing Chamber. The captive Templar joined them when they passed, but kept his distance from the mages, watching them with paranoid eyes. Aurora kept her eyes on the Templar in turn, not wanting him to turn on the mages out of paranoia.
By the time they made it two thirds of the way down the tower, Aurora was utterly exhausted and leaning heavily on Alistair for support, grumbling curses under her breath at the stairs in between heavy breaths. Maker, she was ready for a long rest after this…
"You're back!"
Aurora looked up at the familiar Orlesian accent, spotting Leliana approaching them with Anders in tow. They both were covered in blood, but neither of them were harmed from what Aurora could see. She raised her eyebrows as they drew closer. "I take it you did run into trouble?"
Anders grimaced, but it was Leliana who explained. "A couple of demons, yes, and a few raised corpses. It's been quiet for a while, though."
"Uldred's dead, then?" Anders asked, and Aurora didn't miss the way his healer's eyes were studying her, probing to know what had happened on instinct.
"I'd hope so—I ran a sword through his neck," Alistair muttered, and Aurora chuckled lightly.
"How did you get hurt?" Leliana asked, she and Anders easily gravitating into the traveling group and sticking close to her side.
"Oh…that lovely part—Uldred basically turned into an overly smart pride demon, picked me up, and, well, I'm sure it's not hard to figure out the rest. I'll be okay, though…I just need some rest," Aurora said with a sigh.
"What matters is her strange sense of humor survived," Alistair mused with a wry grin.
"Can't say the same about my pride…pun…not intended," Aurora awkwardly tacked on, earning a chuckle from all three.
"If I could, I'd offer to help with the wound—I know a few tricks to make the pain more bearable and heal wounds more efficiently," Anders mentioned, eyeing Aurora's side. She gave the mage a patient smile.
"Don't berate yourself about it, Anders, I'll manage. You've already saved my life once," she reminded him.
"That doesn't mean I have to like being of little use right now—I hate feeling like I can't do anything."
"At least the magebane will pass soon."
Anders snorted. "They'll give me a fresh dose and throw me back into the dungeon again before it wears off."
"Surely you don't think that?" Leliana asked dubiously.
"Oh, I really do," Anders muttered bitterly.
Aurora frowned, falling silent and mulling over Anders' situation in her head as they continued to make their way to the tower's entrance. She stole a few glances towards the forlorn mage beside her, wondering if he really would be pumped full of more poison and put back in a dark cell to waste. Unfortunately, experience and her harsh knowledge of the world was telling her yes, they most likely would.
Up ahead, the large doors separating the bulk of the Templars from everyone who'd been trapped in the tower opened, and the voices of those at the front echoed towards Aurora as she, Alistair, Leliana, and Anders approached. When she heard them she gently pushed Alistair away and forced herself to stand straight on her own, displaying her strength and independence. She didn't need to be seen as weak to the Templars—she couldn't afford it.
"Irving? Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive!" she heard Greagoir state.
"It is over, Greagoir. Uldred…is dead," Irving replied.
"Uldred tortured these mages hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations," the Templar who'd been held captive stated. "We don't know how many of them have turned."
"What? Don't be ridiculous!" Irving protested.
"Of course he'll say that! He might be a blood mage! Don't you know what they did? I won't let this happen again!" the Templar fumed.
"I am the Knight-Commander here, not you!" Greagoir snapped at the traumatized Templar. By then Aurora's little group had reached the three men, and she chose to diffuse the situation and throw her lot in with the mages.
"I believe order has been restored to the Circle," Aurora said quickly but carefully, not wanting to tip her hand too much and make the Templars think for some Maker-forsaken reason she was trying to deceive them.
"We will rebuild. The Circle will go on, and we will learn from this tragedy, and be strengthened by it," Irving said sagely.
"We have won back the tower. I will accept Irving's assurance that all is well," Greagoir stated. Several of the mages that had come with them showed obvious relief. The traumatized Templar tried to speak out again.
"But they may have demons within them, lying in dormant, lying in wait!"
"Enough, Cullen! I have already made my decision," Greagoir stated firmly, and the Templar—Cullen—was effectively silenced, though he still looked furious. Aurora glanced at Anders now that she had the Templar's name, remembering that Cullen was one of the Templars Anders had hoped was all right. The man looked rather upset that Cullen was raging so much against Templars, but also so…surprised, like he thought he should have known better than to hope that Templars could sympathize with mages for long. It was rather heartbreaking to see.
Greagoir turned to Aurora. "Thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of both the Circle, and the Templars."
"And what about the darkspawn? I require aid," Aurora reminded him diplomatically.
"I promised you aid, but with the Circle restored, my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you, however. Speak to them," Greagoir said with a wave of his hand.
"And what will the Templars do?"
"For now, I will have to oversee a sweep of the tower. There may be some survivors and we should do our best to tend to them." Greagoir glanced around at all the mages that were gathering and the fidgety Templars still scattered about the Tower's entrance. "Please excuse me, and Iriving…it is good to have you back."
"Ah, I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time," Irving chuckled. Greagoir said nothing, and instead disappeared into the throng of people quickly gathering. Anders had also disappeared into that group, and Aurora wondered with a slight pang if she would ever see the mage again.
Irving turned his attention on her. "Here we are, the tower in disarray, the Circle nearly annihilated…though it could have been much, much worse. I am glad you arrived when you did. It's almost as though the Maker Himself sent you."
"I'm glad I could help," Aurora stated graciously.
"From what Greagoir said, it seems that you came here seeking allies. The least we can do is help you against the darkspawn. I would hate to survive this only to be overcome by the Blight."
Aurora fought back a slight smile. "So, I have your word?"
"You have my word, as first enchanter. The Circle will join the Grey Wardens in the fight."
Aurora smiled then. "I'm glad to hear it, First Enchanter. I—"
"Oh, please, the things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble. I'll just escape again, anyhow."
Aurora cut off what she was saying when she heard Anders' voice nearby, sounding rather annoyed and insulted. She would have continued with her conversation with Irving if it hadn't been for the angry female Templar voice that followed.
"Never! I'll see you hanged for what you've done, murderer!"
Aurora frowned, glancing back at Irving. Maker, she was too tired for this right now. "Excuse me," she murmured, making her way towards where she could hear the argument as Anders retorted.
"Murderer? But those Templars were…oh, what's the use? You won't believe me anyhow," the mage said bitterly. Aurora pushed her way past a few spectators to see Anders being held between two Templars with one angry female Templar and Greagoir before him. Anders looked frighteningly resigned considering that their argument seemed to effect whether he lived or died.
"What's going on here?" Aurora asked, glancing behind her to see that Alistair and Irving seemed to have followed her. The spectators for whatever was happening with Anders was quickly growing, and Aurora could see most of her companions were already watching. Sten probably didn't care, which was why he was missing from the growing number of onlookers.
"This does not concern you, Warden, this is Templar business," Greagoir said evenly. Anders' head snapped up to look at Aurora in surprise, mouthing 'Warden' to himself in surprise.
I suppose we never did mention that, did we?
"Actually, I think it does," Aurora said calmly, gaze sliding over the few Templars and Anders as she spoke. "This man saved my life, so when I hear someone say they'll see him hang, I'd like to know what's brought this about."
Greagoir let out a long, frustrated sigh before he began to explain. "This mage is personally responsible for the deaths of several of my men."
Anders grit his teeth. "I already told you, it wasn't me! I don't even have any magic right now because of the magebane. They were killed by abominations—"
"Then why were they killed by swords and not magic or an abomination's claws and teeth," Greagoir snarled. "All the lying in the world isn't going to save you this time, Anders."
"Actually, Knight-Commander, there were Templars who were possessed that attacked us—They might have attacked their own alongside a few abominations and demons," Aurora cut in, then looked at Anders. "That's what happened, isn't it?"
"Yes!" Anders stated with a sigh caught somewhere between relief and exasperation.
"And yet you, who were imprisoned in a cell, managed to escape without a scratch, leaving my men to their fate?" Greagoir scoffed.
"It wasn't without a scratch, one of the abominations put a hole in me, a hold Wynne had to heal since I was totally useless because magebane!" Anders exclaimed angrily, holding out both hands palms up in a gesture of frustration. That was when Aurora noticed he was also in manacles.
"It's true, Greagoir—I did heal such a wound," Wynne stated, appearing from the crowd.
"Why are you so determined to see this mage hang?" Aurora accused sharply, eyes on the Knight-Commander. It was Anders who answered, his tone still immensely bitter.
"He's tired of having to go catch me every time I run away, and since I can't be made Tranquil after passing my Harrowing and his cells can't hold me forever, he's going with the next best thing."
"His story still lacks how he got away, if he's so innocent," Greagoir growled.
Anders huffed. "One of the Templars fell close enough to my cell I could get the keys off him, and while the others were focused on them I took my chance and I ran. That damn demon sent one of the abominations after me and its claw put a hole in me but I kept running until I found a safe place to hide."
"So, you did leave them to their fates!"
"They were already overwhelmed and I was useless in a fight!" Anders snapped back.
"Alright!" Aurora said loudly, stopping both men from arguing further. "If you're so determined to be rid of him, then there's another option where Anders keeps his life and you don't have to worry about him any longer. Wynne spoke highly of him and his abilities, and I trust her word. I could use his help fighting the darkspawn."
It grew so silent once Aurora's proposition registered in their minds that she swore she heard somebody drop a pin somewhere. Anders looked dumbstruck, and Greagoir immediately seethed.
"No, I won't allow it! He is a danger to all of us, and he needs to be dealt with!"
"Come now, Greagoir," Irving spoke up from behind Aurora, to her surprise. "Anders is a skilled mage and a little troublesome, but he's no real threat."
"That's a lie, Irving, he's a menace!" Greagoir returned.
"Then you wouldn't mind me taking him off your hands?" Aurora said quickly, jumping on the statement. "I stand by my decision, and I will recruit this mage—I won't let you throw him in a cell to rot or send him to the hangman's noose."
"Then you'll have to settle for disappointment," Greagoir replied, giving the Templars holding Anders the signal to take him away. Alistair stepped forward to say something, looking rather angry himself, but Aurora spoke first, her words cutting through the air.
"I'll invoke the right of conscription if I have to."
Greagoir paused, sizing her up. "You're bluffing—you're too green to even know how."
Is it that obvious I'm new to the Wardens? Well I'll be damned if I let him win this! Fine, so be it!
Aurora straightened. "I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's right of conscription. I remove this man, Anders, into my custody."
Maker, I hope he'll be able to survive the Joining, if we even live long enough to carry it out.
Every eye was on them as Greagoir sputtered curses in anger, face red, and Aurora only lifted her eyebrows as if to say 'well, what are you waiting for?'
I'm not so much of a friend to the Templars now, I suppose.
"Knight-Commander, I believe this is the part where you admit my rights can't be challenged and you release him of those manacles," Aurora said calmly when Greagoir didn't immediately react, holding his gaze. He looked ready to rant and refuse, but he simply turned on his heel and left, leaving the other Templars hesitant in what to do. Aurora shook her head and looked at the Templars holding Anders. "Let him go—he's in my care now."
The Templars hesitated for a few heartbeats before they took the manacles off a stunned Anders, who rubbed his wrists subconsciously as the Templars walked away and Aurora approached. "You really know how to pay back a debt, don't you! Me, a Grey Warden? I guess that will work!"
Aurora laughed softly under her breath. "Well, I would have interfered whether you'd saved my life earlier or not. I don't take so kindly to injustices like that," Aurora assured him. Alistair came even with her, giving her an odd look.
"I didn't know you knew how to invoke the right—I was about to intervene myself," Alistair stated, folding his arms over his chest.
"You're not the only one Duncan had to conscript," Aurora said simply, though she gave Alistair no further explanation. She didn't exactly want to spill that story to him, even if they had been alone.
"So, what comes now?" Anders asked, hand resting on his hip.
"Now, we gather our supplies and head for Redcliffe. We're gathering out allies to fight the Blight and shake Loghain off the throne. I'll explain more once we're done here," Aurora replied.
"Well, I'd say I'll miss the Circle, but I won't!" Anders said rather happily. Aurora chuckled.
"And you won't have to see it again. Come on, the sooner we leave, the better—I don't like all the glares the Templars are giving me, now."