Disclaimer:

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

Synopsis:

Follows the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual AndersxOC. Yes, it's one of those fics.

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Chapter 3

A few hours later, Anders cursed under his breath as he walked. He would probably reach the Merdaine once this blasted midday heat subsided, he thought, just in time for the evening chill to envelop him as he made his way up the frozen slopes. Just my luck, once again.

Although he tried to keep his mind blank, he couldn't help but regret the way he drove the girl away. But then again, it had been for the best. He couldn't blame Justice for this. Before merging with him the spirit, his friend had been fair, but not cruel. The Justice Anders met a long time ago would have never lashed upon the girl simply for being annoying.

But he wasn't Justice anymore, was he? No, he was Vengeance. And Anders was to blame.

He reminisced the day they had taken the decision to unite their forces, liberate all mages from the circle of oppression they had suffered under for generations untold. The memory of Rolan's broken body on his feet rose unbidden. Rolan, that bastard… and yet, still he felt bile rise to his throat at the memory.

He hadn't deserved dying like that, Rolan.

None of the people he had killed that day had.

There was so much blood in his hands…

It wasn't Justice's fault. He had been honest from the start. Anders was to blame. His anger at the Templars had twisted the spirit. If either of them had known...

But they hadn't.

He felt very old and very tired. He wasn't sure if the emotions were completely his own.

"It's not fair to you." Anders said out loud. "I will do you justice and set you free. We did our part, you and I, for better or for worse."

He had expected resistance from the spirit, but found none. Instead, a deep sense of longing filled his head.

Justice was tired of being angry too, he realized.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, my friend." He said in a low voice.

He then heard a trembling whisper behind him. He didn't turn immediately.

"Anders…?" Rhys's voice said.

He slowly turned to face her, face expressionless. "You came back."

"I did." She replied. She seemed small, her frail shoulders hunched. "I… have nowhere else to go. My friend may be in that cave as well."

He studied her. She avoided meeting his eyes. She was afraid.

Resignation filled his chest. Justice.

"Rhys. Look at me." Anders said softly, using her name for the first time.

She lifted her glance and looked at him, eyes veiled.

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth." He said. "I haven't been myself for a long time. There is no time for either of us to explain, but know that I wouldn't have caused you harm willingly."

She seemed at a loss for words. Finally, she spoke. "No time," she agreed. "For either of us to properly apologize."

"If you head south from here, you will eventually find the city of Nordbotten. Go to the inn called "Grey Mountain' and tell the innkeeper you are a friend of the blond healer. She'll let you stay. You'll be safe there. Or," he continued as her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, "come with me to the Merdaine and if we do not find your friend there, I swear I will help you to the best of my ability. Stay safe or come with me," he finished. "It's your choice."

She didn't even consider the first option, it seemed. "I'll come with you."

Her elfin face was resolute. She had such a determined air about her that even he couldn't help but ask. "You won't ask about… before?"

She seemed startled by his question.

"Depends," she replied after a second. "Will you go blue-veined and violent again?"

He smirked. "Blue veined? I've never heard that one before!"

She shuffled a bit, looking at her feet.

"No disrespect meant, you know, just—"

She stopped when he chuckled. "I'm just baiting you." Growing serious once again, he said, "…but I can't guarantee anything. I wish I could. Just try not to—"

"Piss you off again," she said. "Got it. Shall we move on?"

Well, Maker blast him, he was impressed. Even if she didn't know the whole story. Even if he wasn't sure he was impressed because of her courage or her idiocy.

"Very well," he said. "We'll be there by the beginning of the evening, as the crow flies. Let us go."

But Rhys touched his forearm. "Hey."

"Yes?" he made an effort not to snap again.

She seemed to consider for a moment, then continued talking. "This is for you. You seem to need it more than I do." She gave him something.

The mage raised a brow as he took the -thing. "What is this, now?" It was a small yellow box of sorts, shiny and hard, from some kind of material Anders had never seen before. Small wings of sorts were wrapped neatly on one side.

"See that big button?" She pointed towards a button that had a familiar symbol. Anders realized with a start that it was the same glyph he had seen in the piece he had taken from Albert's shoulder. He took it out and silently presented it to Rhys.

She looked at him, eyes wide. "Where did you find this?"

"I removed it from someone's shoulder," he replied. "He was close to the Merdaine. He said something about bright lights. What is this?"

She stood still for a moment, then spoke. "This explains why I was drawn to your location! This is the tracking device I mentioned when we first met."

"And the glyph?" Anders asked.

"This is a general symbol for on and off. The bright lights... I have a suspicion, but I need to think it through first."

"Very well. Let us go."

"Wait. Press the button on the thing I gave you."

He held it sideways, as far away from the wings as possible, and pressed the button. A slight buzzing sound came from the box and the wings started rotating, soon becoming a blur.

"What is this?" Anders asked.

"That's a fan." Rhys said. "I figured you could use it. You were sweating a little, ah, before. Consider it a peace offering." She grinned. "Turn the wings towards your direction. It's harmless. But use it sparingly, it will run out of energy eventually."

Anders did and nearly moaned in delight as he fell a gust of wind hit him in the face.

He heard her laugh. "So, are we friends now?"

"Sweetheart," he said in mock seriousness as they began walking again, "We can paint each other's toenails any time."

It was his turn to laugh at her look.