Chapter TWENTY-THREE

It turned out that Fenris was right. Javaris was a pawn, a patsy, someone left holding the bag. The crazed elf who framed him threatened to take out an entire housing community in Lowtown. Aria stopped it from reaching full fruition, however it cost many lives. Aria wearily reported back to the Viscount and Aveline before heading home, her lungs still burning from the effects of the poison gas the elf had released in that neighborhood.

Bodahn informed her of another letter on her desk as she started stripping off her armour. She asked him to have it cleaned, as the gas had left all of it with a yellow-green tinge. She drew several large buckets of water from her well and lugged them inside to heat over the fire. She felt as though she had a yellow-green tinge to her entire person. She was weary, and her fear of the Arishok still kept her pulse thrumming and her hands shaking.

While the water warmed, she decided to pen the day's events in her journal. Isabela had drawn crude stick figures in the margin of her most recent entry. There was a stick figure with enormous ears and well-endowed manhood, another stick figure with large breasts and two daggers, yet another shorter stick figure with a perfectly drawn crossbow and fluffy chest hair, and a surprisingly accurate self-portrait of the dusky Rivaini pirate herself. Aria shook her head at the drawings and flipped back a few pages to find edits done in the margins to her previous entries. She knew the handwriting too well. Varric had taken it upon himself to liven up her documentary of events with grand details and new, witty commentary. She mentally noted that she'd have to have Bodahn refuse entry to her friends when she wasn't home.

Aria was dipping her quill in the ink to start penning today's entry when Bodahn called for her. She threw on her robe, covering the simple, sheer black nightie she'd donned, then padded barefoot out to the landing that overlooked the common room and foyer of her mansion.

"She'll be with you momentarily. It would seem our mistress had a troubling day," Bodahn was saying to someone who'd entered.

"I just wanted to check on her," came Anders's smooth, charming voice.

A lump suddenly blocked Aria's throat at the sight of the mage and she quickly swallowed it. "Anders? May I help you?" she called, the trill in her voice giving away the frayed edges of her nerves.

Anders bowed slightly at Bodahn and climbed the stairs. Though he moved swiftly, he appeared to do so in slow motion to Aria. When he reached her, he took her hand and led her to her bedroom. Aria was glad mother was sleeping. She didn't need the lecture in the morning about how bad it looked when an apostate led a lady into a bedroom, then locked the door.

"Are you alright?" he asked once the door was closed.

Aria regarded him with a perplexed cock of her head to one side. "Yes? Why, what happened now?"

Anders went over to her hearth where the water was warming. He held his hands out and the flames went higher. Only then did he turn to face her again.

"You're terrified of the Arishok," he quietly said, his warm, chocolate eyes going over her from head to toe, a slight smile quirking his lips when he saw her bare feet.

"Am I so transparent?" Aria groused, hugging her arms about herself for warmth as she sat back down in the chair at the desk.

"No, you hide it well, but after going through hell with you, I know when you're scared. You needn't be," Anders gently said, seating himself in the chair by the hearth.

"It is silly, isn't it? We've fought dragons and darkspawn, demons and blood mages, templars and rock wraiths... And I'm scared of one Qunari," Aria laughed nervously to herself.

"Exactly. If he does decide to be the conqueror that he no doubt is, you can handle him," Anders cheerily said. "And you won't be alone," he tenderly added, his eyes meeting hers fully and the sincerity there was entirely endearing.

"I would hope not," Aria replied candidly.

"Have you heard from Bethany lately?" Anders asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"I haven't, no, but Mother visits her once a week. She said Bethany is doing well. She's mentoring children," Aria answered his inquiry, tightening her robe slightly.

"I'm glad to hear that. Some day, maybe she'll be able to do that in the open air, as a free woman, and not as a slave to the templars," Anders congenially replied.

"Ah, Justice," Aria sighed, shaking her head.

"No, that's my hope coming through," Anders softly stated, his tone registering slight hurt.

Aria shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Forgive me if this seems a rude question, but—why are you really here?"

Anders sighed and looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a deep, steadying breath. "I just had to be near you tonight. And I had to see if... If the rumours were true."

Aria laughed nervously. "Rumours?"

"Has Fenris been staying here at night with you recently?" His expression was carefully neutral, but the flames in his eyes gave his jealousy and hurt away.

Aria stood so fast she unsettled the chair. It bumped the table and sloshed a small splotch of black ink onto the surface. She quickly blotted it up with a kerchief. "He has been coming here for reading lessons, actually. But he's gone before dark and he certainly doesn't remain here entire nights at a time."

She mentally berated herself for the way she was responding, as though she'd committed a crime. Why did she feel like this?! Maker, she couldn't take any more of this. Everyone in her life was going to rip her asunder until the fragments of her being were small enough to float on whatever wind decided to take them. And she'd never be whole again when it happened.

"It's—it's not my place, I know," Anders said by her ear, his hands gently taking her shoulders. He turned her to face him, his hands skimming down her arms until he caught hers up in them. He placed them on his chest. "It's just that... I lie awake every night, aching for you. Knowing you were here, alone, dealing with everything that's happened in just the past year alone... I just want to know that you're okay."

Aria's heart had jumped into her esophagus. Wasn't this what she really wanted? Someone who cared enough for her to check on her? Someone who held her in their thoughts? Things with Fenris were hot and cold. Anders was a steady, merry hearth, with the occasional shower of sparks. Andraste guide her, for this storm was not one she was ready to deal with.

"I'm fine," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"That is all I wanted to know," he also whispered, tilting her chin up. "Would you like me to fill the tub for you before I go?"

Aria's weary body, heart, and mind could finally agree on something. "That would be lovely."

She sat on the bed while he emptied the buckets into the tub. He tested the water and decided it needed to be warmer. His hands glowed red as they rested on the outside of the tub and he whispered something in a strange tongue over the water. It began to bubble slightly.

"There. It should keep its warmth for the next two hours or so, if you should choose to linger. If you add Bethany's soaps, use at most half of what you normally do or they'll overrun your room. Don't fall asleep in the tub; that'd ruin all of the heroic tales Varric has spun about you," he kindly said, striding over to the door. "Hawke can't drown in a bathtub."

"Thank you, Anders," Aria wearily laughed, standing to show him out.

"No, Aria, thank you," he responded, drawing her to him. He embraced her for a moment, his chin resting on her shoulder, his lips near her ear. He whispered something under his breath, but she couldn't tell what it was.

Aria stayed in his embrace for a moment, needing the reassurance more than she could even admit to herself. He gently let her go and left her in her room, leaving her more alone and even more confused than ever.

ooooooo

Aria woke to the sound of someone rapping on her bed room door. The light thuds could have only belonged to her mother.

"Birdie? Are you awake?"

Aria groaned and sat up, then quickly covered herself when the door opened slightly. Her mother's head poked in and the woman regarded her with an uncomfortable smile.

"What is it?" Aria sleepily asked, her voice raspy. She cleared her throat and motioned the woman in.

"What happened? I heard someone tried to murder an entire district with poisonous gas last night. People are blaming the Qunari. They said you were there?" Leandra said, entering the room with a flourish and closing the door behind her.

"Oh that. I suppose word does get around," Aria groaned, laying back in bed, her blankets swaddled around her presently naked form.

"Did you have any ill effects?" Leandra asked worriedly, sitting on the side of Aria's bed.

"No. I'm fine, Mother. Really."

Leandra patted her head, as though she were a small child again, then stood and went to Aria's closet. "What would you like to wear today?"

"Nothing," Aria grunted. "I want to stay right here in my blankets all day."

Leandra laughed at this and shook her head. "No. You're going to get up. You're going to go out. And you're going to enjoy yourself. No fights. No deaths. No poison. No Viscounts or Qunari or bandits or whatever else you normally do. Maker's breath, child. You need to go shopping."

Aria drew her blankets over her head and turned over to lie on her stomach. She could hear her mother rifling through the meager options her closet offered. Her mother padded back over and pulled the blankets down to Aria's shoulders. She gasped when she saw the red design that spread across her back.

"Aria! What is this?" Leandra asked, aghast. Her fingers touched the tattoo.

"Oh, it's a hawk, and it's my rite of passage into the Dalish," Aria grumbled into the pillow.

"Did it hurt?"

"I've had worse."

"How long have you had it?" Leandra gently queried, leaning in to look at the tattoo more closely.

"A month. A year. Maker only knows," came Aria's muffled response.

Leandra made a clicking noise with her tongue and went back to rifling through the closet. "Will your elven friend be here today?"

Aria turned over and sat up again, reaching for her robe. She donned it while her mother's back was turned then went over to grudgingly open her shutters. The brightness of the sun stung her eyes for a moment. She fought the urge to hiss.

"I don't know. He just...shows up," Aria softly replied, looking at the three dresses her mother had laid out on the bed for her. They were tasteful, high-fashion numbers that weren't too unbearable. Her mother knew her well.

"I like the green one best on you. It works best with your skin tone and eyes," Leandra offered, pointing to the mossy green, silk gown in the center of the three choices.

"Mother, what's going on?" Aria suspiciously asked.

"Hmm?" Leandra distractedly replied, digging through the pile of shoes and boots that littered the bottom of Aria's closet.

"Is it my birthday again? Has it been a year already?"

Leandra laughed at this. "No, child. I just don't want you wallowing."

"Wallowing?" Aria asked, perplexed. "Why would I be wallowing? In what?"

"That mage was here last night," Leandra said and Aria's blood went cold.

"Yes but...we didn't... I mean... He was just checking in on me and there was nothing..." Aria sputtered, crumpling the dress in her trepidation.

"Who am I to judge?" Leandra laughed. "I ran away from a life of nobility to live as the wife of an apostate."

"Ugh," Aria grunted in disgust, sitting down abruptly on the bed, so much so that she bounced a couple times.

"For what it's worth, I still like the elf."

With that, she kissed the top of her daughter's head and left the room so Aria could dress. Aria took all three dresses and hung them carefully back up in the closet. She grabbed a pair of black leather breeches, a white peasant blouse, and over them she put on her armour. She then tugged on her best pair of greaves, chest armor, gauntlets, and strapped her trademark daggers in their belt across her back.

When Aria emerged, her mother just shook her head and chuckled before walking down the stairs to get something to eat. Aria took her leave, accepting the hunk of fresh bread and cheese Bodahn handed her before she could walk out the door. She snagged an apple from the tree outside her estate and munched on that while she walked.

Maybe today she'd go call on Merrill and see what was going on in the realm of crazy elven blood mage land.