Finally! A new chapter has made its way out of my brain. I'm going to try and get a new chapter out once every 2 weeks, that should be manageable for me. I hope.
I have done things a little bit differently in this chapter and I will be introducing a new piece to how this story will be written (to be unveiled as the next chapter) and I hope you like it :).
I made my way toward my companions, Varric never breaking his eye contact. Yep, I was in trouble, there was a big heap of lecture coming from the dwarf, there was no escaping it. I took a seat at the table and both Isabella and Varric rounded on me. Isabella leaned in,
"Well Varric, I'd say our little Kitten has gotten herself into a bit of a snag, wouldn't you?" She had dropped her voice on the word snag, making it sound like the dirtiest, sex dripped word ever uttered, and I shot her a glare causing her to beam me a wide grin. Varric chuckled.
"I'd say you're right Rivani. The brooding elf and the blonde mage, now that is a difficult decision." Here he winked at me and it was Isabella's turn to chuckle. They were having entirely too much fun on my behalf and I opened my mouth to try and stop them but Isabella cut me off.
"I would just make a sandwich out of them, that would solve the problem entirely." She had this devilish grin on her face, and it was about that time that someone spoke from somewhere behind me.
"Who's your next unfortunate victim Isabella, maybe I can give them some warning so they have time to run." I jumped when I realized it was Fenris that had appeared behind me; and the 'cat who swallowed the canary' looks on both Isabella and Varric's faces made me turn so red I could have passed for a tomato. Isabella adopted her best sexy face and chimed in without missing a beat.
"Well I'm talking about you of course sweet thing. I'm just trying to come up with a plan to see exactly how far those tattoos of yours really go." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and I watched as Fenris very uncharacteristically rolled his eyes and proceeded to take the seat next to me and order his usual bottle of wine. We all settled into a companionable atmosphere after that little mortifying conversation, which I knew wasn't over at least where Varric was concerned. I knew it was just because he cared and was worried for me, but sometimes I wished he would just let me figure it out on my own. We all stayed late into the night, with Aveline, Merrill, and Anders joining us. It was an opportunity for all of us to get to know each other better. I could tell that Anders and Fenris were going to be difficult to deal with if left in the same room for too long, and it was definitely obvious that they had already started to hate one another. So much for me hoping that they would make this easier on me. I spent the evening speaking to everyone, but taking extra care to make sure Anders was included. I knew we had a bit of intimidating group, and seeing as he wasn't joining us in the drinking aspect, I didn't want him to be frightened off by our particularly rowdy group. While Fenris and Varric were having a particularly intense discussion about slavers and their practices, Isabella and Aveline were calling each other names (their own particular way of saying they were indeed friends), and Merrill was lightly snoring with her head on the table having passed out earlier (I made a mental note to have Varric make sure she made it home safely) I made it known that I was worried about how he was perceiving our eccentric little group. He chuckled lightly.
"Oh you don't have to worry about me. Believe me when I say it was much worse when I was a Warden. You think you have a rowdy group this is nothing compared to Oghren and Elias. They used to get blind drunk and try and convince all of the female Wardens to put on a show in the middle of the dining room." He laughed at this, and I smiled.
"So you enjoyed being a Warden then? I had gotten the idea that you didn't enjoy it all too much." He smiled sadly.
"It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it, it...was more necessary than anything." He caught my puzzled expression and explained. "You see, I was on my seventh escape attempt from the tower..." And here my squeal of surprise stopped him and caused everyone to look over at us startled.
"You escaped from the tower seven times! How on earth did you manage this!" He chuckled at my shock, and everyone except for Fenris seemed to have their interest perked and listened in to his explanation.
"Yes, I escaped from the tower seven times. Now, mind you, not every escape attempt lasted very long. Some I was only free for a matter of hours, others I was free for a few days. I hated the tower, and I would have done anything to be free." Here he became slightly melancholy, but shook it off and continued. "But as I was saying, it was my seventh attempt. I had managed to slip past the Templars and had been on the run for a few days when I found myself thrown into the middle of a darkspawn attack. Elias Cousland, the Warden Commander, happened upon me and convinced me to join the fight with him and another Warden recruit. When the fight was over and new Templars came to take me away, Elias conscripted me to the Wardens to keep them from taking me. He saved my life, and for that I owe him everything. If he had let the Templars have me they would have killed me, or worse made me Tranquil. Life as a Warden was indeed better than death, but I just traded one cage for one of a different form. Until I...left...the Wardens I have never really been free." He looked so sad after he had finished, and I wondered at what kind of life this poor man had endured. I knew he hadn't seen servitude and abuse in the same manner Fenris had encountered, but to make him so sad it had to be his own kinda of hell. I felt for him, and my heart softened towards him even more. I wanted to know, and I was especially interested to know about Justice, but I wasn't about to bring up the subject. Not knowing if it was a touchy or difficult subject for him. I would rather he brought it up instead. Everyone had gone back to their conversations once Anders had finished explaining, all except Aveline who had gone back to the barracks for the evening. And I picked up our conversation, realizing it had momentarily lapsed while I had been lost in thought.
"I'm sorry Anders, I can't say that I understand what its like, because I don't. I am no mage, my sister is so it gives me an outsiders opinion, but I can say that I can partially understand having watched what my family has gone through to keep the Templars from finding us. No mage should be locked up for being as they are made, taught how to understand and control their magic yes, but not locked up and dehumanized." He seemed taken aback at this.
"I knew from the brief amount we had spoken earlier, that you understood and had pity for the conditions that mages are forced to endure, but I had no idea that you we're this...passionate about it." He had leaned forward while speaking and I had just realized how close our faces had become to one another. I flushed scarlet again, as I could feel the heat of some of my other companions on the back of my head, and I leaned back (in what I hoped had been a tactful manner) *I found out later that it looked more like someone had dropped a cat in a tub of water* and stood up. I realized by the look on Anders face that I had not so tactfully exited the situation, and quickly apologized saying that I had to excuse myself for the evening. Making up some story about not feeling well and needing to get some sleep. I said a quick goodbye to my companions, and made arrangements with Varric to make sure Merrill got home safely, she was still lightly snoring on the table although now she was covered in Varrics coat, and headed for home. I had to think about the evenings activities and sleep off what was sure to be one Maker blessed hangover.
Here Alice set down the journal and pulled out the piece of paper that had been tucked inside. She smiled appreciatively as she opened it. At different times during her years in Kirkwall her friends had taken it upon themselves to add "embellishments" to her journal, and she had just pulled out one such example. It had been written by Anders a few years after that first night at the Hanged Man, he thought it was only fair that he included his point of view to the whole situation since hers was already written down. She had no idea why her friends felt the need to read her journal, but now that things were as they are, she was glad they did, and that they had taken the time to add their own bits and pieces. She opened the folded piece of paper, and she began to read...