Goodness Spent
Chapter Eight: Collapse

"So, when, exactly, were you planning on telling us that you were an abomination?" The instant that the door to the clinic slammed shut behind Lysandra, she advanced on Anders with all her fury. "Was it supposed to be after you endangered everyone's lives? Because if so, bravo, you have accomplished your goals! But I think it would've been nice to warn my sister to go play outside before the stupid abomination unleashed his demonic powers on everyone!"

The accusations struck home, wounding as surely as any dagger falling on him. Anders stopped in his tracks, his hand clutching at his chest in agony, before turning on Lysandra with only an ounce of defiance left flickering in his gaze. "I-I'm sorry, it was never something I meant to... to let out, like that."

Lysandra's stormy scowl intensified. "Oh, so you planned on never telling us, just needlessly exposing me and my sister to whatever sick game you've got going on inside you!"

"Please, Hawke!" Using her body as a barrier between them, Evelyn stepped in front of Anders and met Lysandra's gaze calmly. "I understand that you're upset, but this is not the most conducive way to vent your frustrations-"

"Upset!?" Lysandra barked back at Evelyn, leaning over her menacingly. "No, little girl, I'm not upset. I'm about two inches from stabbing this bastard straight through the heart to protect us from an abomination wreaking havoc on us all! Upset doesn't begin to describe how I'm feeling, so don't you start with your little 'I understand but you must understand' nonsense!"

Evelyn's lower lip protruded at the condescension. "You have every right to be angry, Hawke, but I'm going to insist that you back down. Right now is not the time to be provoking someone who..." Her voice caught, and she glanced over her shoulder at a rapidly deflating Anders. "...Who's lost a lot, tonight."

"You're giving orders to me, short stuff?" Lysandra continued looming, though when Evelyn's calm gaze connected with hers again, she fell back some. "I tell you what- give me one good reason I shouldn't gut him right here and now for putting my sister in that situation- especially with the templars getting involved!"

"One: Because I will stop you, and you will not like how I stop you." Evelyn's gaze hardened to ice. "Two: Because if you do, you won't get his maps and your precious expedition will never go through. Three: Because he isn't an abomination..." She looked back to him again. "...Are you."

His eyes widened at her question- no, it was a statement. She had no doubt in her mind when she claimed he was no abomination. For a moment, he couldn't find the words to reply. "I'm not sure it's so easily classifiable. But, you are correct... I am not an abomination. At least, not in the sense that we understand them."

"So then, what are you?" Lysandra demanded, folding her arms over her chest. Having quietly observed the conversation so far, Bethany darted her attention between her sister and the two apostates. She'd been deeply alarmed by what she'd seen in Anders, too. Lysandra's fears had only echoed her own.

"I am..." He paused, mulling over his words. "I was only trying to help a friend. Back in Ferelden, there was a spirit who was trapped in this world through an accident of foul magic. He was stuck in the body of a dead man, and unable to return to the Fade. He was a very good friend to me, and the time came when he was forced to leave the body he possessed."

Bethany wrinkled her nose. "He was in a dead body? Isn't that more than a little creepy?"

Anders offered a halfhearted shrug. "It was his only tether, and even that was rotting away. Neither of us was sure what would happen when he no longer had a body to cling to. So I offered him a place to go, a willing host. We had no idea what would happen..."

Memories flashed in back of his vision, and he clenched his fists to reassert the present. "He does not only share my body. When I invited him in, we... merged. My friend, a spirit of Justice, he became part of me. Not even the most intelligent of scholars could tell you where he ends and I begin."

"A spirit of Justice?" Lysandra tilted her head skeptically. "Not a demon, then?"

Anders glared at her, though he swallowed his ire quickly. "Not a demon. Though he has been touched, and changed, by an anger in me that I had not realized was so strong. He is no longer the same friend that I knew before... he is as you saw him."

Evelyn turned, sensing that Lysandra was no longer an immediate threat to Anders' wellbeing, and smiled up at him. "You tried to help your friend. I could never hold you accountable for an unknown outcome, especially when you made your choice out of a desire to do the right thing for a friend. The best we can do is try to learn from our mistakes and keep moving forward."

Anders regarded her with astonishment, color finally returning to his face. Still, his expression fell with sorrow. "Under normal circumstances, I would agree. But I know I've done him wrong, no matter how good my intentions. He wanted to help me- he knew what mages had suffered. That's why he agreed to this in the first place. But my anger..." His head dipped forward, his gaze dropping to the ground. "When I see templars now, things that have always outraged me, but I could never do anything about..."

His eyes flicked up to Evelyn again, though he didn't raise his head. "He comes out. And without any grasp of mercy, he has become a force of vengeance."

"Is there any way to... separate the two of you again?" Bethany asked thoughtfully, her fingers fidgeting with each other.

"I don't think so." Anders shook his head. "The only way a spirit has ever been separated from a living host is by its death."

"And we're not killing either Anders or the friend he fought so hard to keep from, erm... dying, if that's the right word for it," Evelyn insisted. "So that's out."

Lysandra made a grimace of uncertainty. "So you've got this powerful spirit residing inside of you. Is he under your control? He looked like he completely overwhelmed you before. Can you bring him out at will?"

Pained, Anders glanced away again. "No, he... only comes out when I've lost all power over myself. It's a madness, a frenzy. I only find out after what I might have done."

Evelyn took both of his hands in hers, looking up at him, a doctrine of sympathy written in her expression. "That sounds terrifying. All this time, I had no idea what you were dealing with... I understand now. Everything."

He crumbled in the face of her words, speaking low and in a trembling voice. "I didn't think I could ever tell anyone about this... I was certain that if you knew, you would-" he cut himself off before his voice broke. He resumed once he had control again. "Thank you for not running away."

Lysandra tapped her foot impatiently, arching an eyebrow at the touching display. "I'm not running, either. Even if you turn into a giant scary glowing monster, I'm gonna help keep an eye on you- not just to keep my sister safe, either." She smirked. "I'd hate for something to happen to such a nice man."

He looked to her in shock, having almost forgotten her presence. He grinned, however, at her attempt to 'reassure' him. "As we agreed, my maps are yours. And... if you need help in your expedition, I'd be willing to offer my services."

"That's charming, but would that really be helpful? Trapped underground by a man possessed by a spirit?" Lysandra tilted her head.

"Well, I am a Grey Warden, that might be useful to have along in the case of dealing with darkspawn, or the Deep Roads," he replied sulkily.

"True. And the eye-candy wouldn't hurt in the slightest," She agreed with a grin and a wink. "I'll keep your offer in mind, then."

He raised his arms in feigned aggravation. "Why are women only after one thing? I swear, you all look at me like I'm a piece of meat!"

Lysandra's grin turned deliciously crooked, and she advanced on him with a sway in her hip. Reaching out, she lifted his chin with her index finger, and inspected him jokingly. "If you don't want to be salivated over, honey, then don't garnish yourself so appetizingly."

He grinned, a spark of his humor reflecting in his gaze, but gently guided her hand away after a moment. "Funnily enough, if I stay down here long enough, I'm sure the smell alone would kill any 'appetite'."

If Lysandra had more to add on the subject, she was cut off by a grunt of disapproval from the suddenly red-faced Evelyn, who turned on her heel and retreated into the back hall of the clinic. Both the Hawkes and Anders watched after her, the former confused, the latter losing all the good humor in his expression.

"I guess she's hungry. You really should feed her more often, poor thing looks like she's starving." Lysandra winked. "But first, I'd really like those maps, if you don't mind. I've got a lot to do today. Unless you've got a secret stash of sovereigns I could, uh, borrow?"

He looked to her blankly, before sighing. "If I had even one sovereign to my name, do you think I'd be living down here?"

"Yes," she replied calmly, smiling. "Because you're just that sort of person."

He stared for a moment at her mood switch, then nodded faintly. "I suppose you're right."

"Maps, Darling."

He smirked bitterly. "Yes, yes, I'll get them now. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

As he turned to head towards the back to his room, she called after him, "Then stop twisting them!" He shook his head, and chuckled to himself. Dealing with this woman was going to be interesting, to say the least.

-xxx-

The cozy little closet that Evelyn had claimed as her room was a snug fit, indeed. With her cot pressed against the wall, she had enough room for a small table opposite that for personal affects, and a trinket box for her most prized possessions. Her cloak was draped over the foot of the cot, and she often folded the one change of clothes she had underneath the cot. While Anders had groused that she must feel so claustrophobic in such a tiny space, she was quietly content with it. At night, when she lay back and stared at the ceiling, she felt safe with the four walls around her. She wasn't exposed, out under the stars. There was even a part of her that likened it to what brief time she'd spent at Kinloch Hold; confining, but secure.

Even now, seated on the edge of her cot, pressing her palms over her eyes to keep her head together, she drew comfort from this little niche. It helped her regroup, gather her thoughts, refocus her so she could be strong for others. This was her place to let down her guard, to be weak for just a moment. And right now, she felt weak.

"What is wrong with me?" She murmured into her lap, stooped the way she was. A sick feeling had burrowed into her chest; not nausea, but something toxic and poisoned. Something nasty had bitten into her heart, into her core, and she loathed the way it was making her act. How embarrassing, to walk away like that!

She straightened, letting her hands fall to her knees, and turned to fall back onto the cot with a weak groan. A stray curl of her hair fell over one eye, and lacking the willpower to brush it aside, she closed the eye instead. She had no reason to be this upset over that woman flirting so openly with Anders. They'd already agreed not to pursue anything like that, and no matter how she felt about him, there was no claim she could make that wouldn't be completely unwarranted.

But that was what was so irritating. He'd cringed when she'd indicated any interest, but this other woman comes along, calls him meat, touches him, and he grins and laughs along, takes it in stride. What had Evelyn done to make him so uncomfortable with her? The question kept banging about inside her head, refusing to be brushed aside.

"Evelyn?" There was a soft knock at the entryway to the room. "May I come in?"

Closing both eyes now, Evelyn sighed. Just what she needed right now. She turned onto her side, and rose her voice to reply, "Go ahead."

There was a faint rustle as he moved into the room- well, sort of. There was only so much space to move about in there. "I don't mean to pry, but... are you alright?"

"Anders..." She sat up again, looking to him sadly. Already she regretted trying to feign indifference just then; worry had wrinkled his brow, stained his warm amber eyes with dark shadows. "I... no. Not really. But there's not much that can be done about that. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around everything that happened tonight."

He shrank at that. "I understand. Now that you know what I am, I.. imagine there's a lot to reconcile. For what it's worth, I regret not being honest with you from the start. I just... I knew it would be a bit much to take in."

"That's not it, Anders. At least, that's not what I have a problem with." She smiled faintly. "You are what you are, and you wouldn't be the Anders I know and... that I know, otherwise. While it is something I may need to adjust to, knowing what happened to you only reaffirms what I already knew about you; you are a kind person who wants the best for the people you care about."

A moment passed where he could only stare at her, his expression fighting to stay neutral. Then, he moved to sit beside her on the cot, the concern back in his eyes. "Then what is it?"

She turned her attention to her boots, unable to meet his gaze. The full truth of what was upsetting her could never come out. Instead, she went to what else had been on her mind. "You worked so hard to help your friend. Every moment since we got here, you thought of nothing but helping him, building plans around how to get him out of the Gallows, and out of Kirkwall. And he meant so much to you..."

He cringed at that, almost recoiling. She continued, "I had worried that the templars might catch wind of what was going on, but I hadn't thought they would go so far as to make him Tranquil. Didn't you say he had already been through his Harrowing?"

His fists clenched. "He had! How could they do that to him? They had no cause to make him Tranquil, except..." He trembled. "...Except to punish him, to punish me. What they did to him breaks Chantry law! H-how can they think they'll get away with this? Maker's Breath, they did it because of me, because I was coming to get him-"

"Anders, no." Evelyn put her hand on his shoulder, her fingers sinking into the soft feathers. "You can't blame yourself for what happened! You absolutely can't! If there's anyone who is responsible, it's those damned templars!" She sneered. "Those bastards took a Harrowed mage and made him tranquil because of the sick satisfaction it gave them to inflict that on someone that had no way of escaping them! They had so many options if they were so determined simply to catch an apostate, including letting a perfectly un-Tranquiled mage meet with him and still springing such an ambush!

"Instead, they chose to make him an absolute puppet, to demonstrate their power, to try and crush you. This wasn't solely about capture for them anymore. What they did was despicable and inhuman!"

He was shaking, not able to keep his grief in. He'd held himself together through the trip back to Darktown, managed to hide his despair around the Hawke sisters, but Evelyn had put her fingers directly into the heart of his pain. Tears rimmed his eyes, threatening to spill out, blurring his vision. "But if not for me... he might still be..."

"Imprisoned in the Gallows? Living in fear of monsters who clearly hold the very law they're meant to uphold in disdain? Knowing that he could be made Tranquil at any time, and having no hope of rescue?" Evelyn pressed, frowning. "You made them afraid, Anders. And... oh Maker, what they did was horrible. And if not for you, he might still be Tranquil, unable to even feel horror for what they ripped away from him."

The tears fell as his face tightened in misery. One sob wracked him, then another. He poured his anguish into each sob, completely overcome. This was it; he was going to fall apart, at long last. Losing Karl to the templars- Karl's blood on his hands-

Warmth encircled him, arms around his shoulders and slim body pressing against him from in front. No, he whimpered to himself, don't do this. Don't show me sympathy. I can't accept it! Yet there she stayed, brushing her fingers through his hair, her arms locked around him firmly, refusing to let him collapse. His face pressed into her shoulder, her blouse absorbing his tears, and despite his shame he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

"It's alright," she soothed, speaking in that soft voice she had when speaking with patients. "Let it out. I'm right here."

She continued murmuring her reassurances, and he felt the knot around his heart ease, slowly. Before he could stop himself, his arms wrapped around her in return, a man set adrift in a stormy ocean clinging to the one hope of staying afloat. The tide of his grief could not be stemmed, but with this outpouring, he felt...lighter. The burden was being shared, by a woman whose strength astounded him. Especially now.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured to him, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, Anders. I wish I could do more for you."

His grip on her tightened, and he let out a mix of laughter and a whimper. "Don't," he spoke against her shoulder, the sound muffled. "You... you have no idea..."

At this, she swept one hand to press against the back of his head, cradling him tenderly. "You think I've never lost someone I care for before? Oh, Maker, I've blamed myself for it too. I had to learn how to stop making everything my responsibility, as should you."

He shook his head, and withdrew enough to meet her gaze. "No, I meant..." He smiled, though it was tainted by grief. His tone softened to nearly a whisper as he continued, "I meant, you have no idea what you're already doing for me. Don't underestimate yourself; without you, I'd be going out of my mind right now."

She smiled as best she could, and sighed. "Maybe. But you deserve so much better than this. If I could make things right, could give you Karl, maybe even in my stead, I would-"

"No!" He exclaimed, twisting to his feet and gripping her shoulders. "Don't ever say that! Karl... he was a good friend, but I would not trade the two of you for anything!"

Dim candlelight flickered in her widening eyes at his vehement response. He was genuinely terrified at the prospect, his arms shaking as he held onto her. The sickness in her heart abated, undone at last, and she smiled. "No... I wouldn't want to leave you, either. I just... want you to be happy. You deserve that, at least."

His expression flared briefly in joy, before he smothered it in another embrace. "I may never be truly happy, Evelyn, not so long as there is such great injustice in this world, not so long as they can... can do this to Karl, and to others. But if you're here with me, I might..."

He seemed unable to finish his sentence, struggling to find the words. She returned his embrace, this time resting her head against his chest, and chuckled. "Very well. You've got me, for whatever that's worth. And I will help you in any way that I can."

She couldn't see it now, but the worry drained from his expression then, smoothing to something like contentment. After a moment savoring the feel of such a kind embrace, he withdrew to smile down at her. "We still have something very important to do, first."

She tilted her head quizzically. "What's that?"

He ruffled the curls of her hair with a half grin. "We still need to look for your family, like we promised when this all started."

She pinkened, then chuckled nervously. "Oh, I wouldn't h-hold you to that, I mean..."

"It's what you came to Kirkwall for, isn't it?" Loathe as he was to pull away, he did so- he feared what he might do if he stayed near her right now. He retreated to the doorway, and smiled to her. "I'm a man of my word. I won't let you down just because my circumstances changed."

"We'll worry about that later, Anders," she assured him. "For now, take the time you need to recover from this. The hunt for my family, if they even exist here, can wait."

He nodded briefly, watching her a moment longer before disappearing from her doorway. She sank back to her cot, staring after his shadow as it slipped away. Then, she closed her eyes and rested her hand over her chest, letting every other sense fall away until she could feel the pulse running through her body..

To her surprise, tears slid from her closed eyes. In confusion, she opened them, only to feel more escaping down her face. Breathing in, it was choked by a weight in her chest, and she had to stifle a sob before Anders could hear it. Why? Her palms went over her eyes, and she doubled forward. No, she didn't have to wonder why. After everything she'd witnessed that night, there was no mystery to her pain.

A man had been tortured, had his free will removed, and was used as a tool to inflict injury on an old friend of his. He'd been stripped of his humanity, his spirit, and given no alternatives but to live as a puppet or die. All because he'd been born with a gift that so many were taught to fear. All because he was a mage. Like her.

Like Anders.

Her grief wasn't really for Karl- she barely knew him, after all- but for all of her kind. Living with the threat of being killed or brainwashed, of being branded evil in the eyes of the public, of being forced into desperation and terror as a way of living until terror becomes a baseline emotion for their daily life. Worse, she knew all of this before; it was why she'd fled Kinloch Hold so many years ago. She'd never looked back, never regretted her decision to run, and rarely thought on the fate of those still ensnared by the Circle's endless torment.

Her hands clenched until she was pressing fists against her face, shaking with the force of her frustration. No consequences, no penalty to face for the mages they've driven into desperation, disregarding Chantry law with no fear of retribution.

Eyes sharp as daggers lifted from behind her fists, wet and reddened and cold. No longer. As her resolution set into place, a blade forged in the heat of vengeance and tempered by her tears, she heard the furious bellow of a soul in agony: You will never take another mage as you took him!

She agreed.