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:

Set after 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 Anders x OC. Yes, it's one of those fics.

OoOoOoOo

Chapter 4

"We need a break," Rhys said.

"Now is not the time for that." Anders replied. "We are close."

"Close or not, you are about to fall down and I'm not feeling so fresh myself. At this rate, the only thing we will be able to do once we catch up to the group is collapse on the guards!"

Although he hated to admit it, she had a point. He was swaying with ignored exhaustion as he walked. A short rest would help replenish his stamina better than any rejuvenation spell.

Reluctantly, he stopped and sat on the edge of a large, flat stone that laid nearby. A Tevinter ruin, probably. Can't throw a stone without hitting one. "Just for a short while," he agreed. "Rest. I will keep guard."

She shook her head. "No. You could use a nap. I'll wake you up in a short bit."

He didn't argue. He laid on the stone as best as he could, his eyes closing of their own accord.

He woke up, looking at the cloudy sky. The sun had moved but little, it seemed. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked for Rhys.

She was sitting close by with a pen of sorts at her hand and a book on her lap, staring far ahead. She had discarded her cloak and a satchel laid close by. He sleepily wondered just how many things she had been carrying in there. He had felt the bag under the cloak when he had carried her back to the hut, but he didn't investigate. He should have, he now realized. There were so many things about this girl that didn't add up. The strange devices she carried, the secrecy, even her clothing, plain, black, but in excellent condition and from a dull, exotic material.

A thought rose unbidden in his mind.

And what about the girl herself?

She was strange. Although they seemed to have developed a rapport of sorts, she was a little too neurotic, the way her eyes shifted this way and that. He knew it had been desperation, not courage, that drove her back to him.

Although giving him the "fan" contraption (marvelous thing, that fan!) had been rather sweet.

She was much like her clothes, he thought. Plain, until you took the time to really look.

Right, he scoffed to himself. Now all I need to do is convince her that my initial threat of rape when we first met hid a sensitive heart, all along. Next thing, we'll both succumb to passion and fly away from Thedas. Get a grip, you fool! Leave the poor girl alone. Have you forgotten what you've done?

He had forgotten for a moment. And that he could not allow.

He yawned loudly, the better to warn her, and sat up. "What are you doing?" he asked groggily.

"Staring at that." She pointed at the Merdaine and he saw Andraste's statue.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He said.

"Yes," she agreed. She didn't look at him, eyes still focused on the statue, a frown of concentration creasing her brow. "Who is it?"

"You don't know?" Anders asked, incredulous.

"Indulge me."

"That's Andraste, the Maker's prophet. This statue was built a long, long time ago. Around the time of the second Blight, if I am not mistaken."

She looked at him, face blank. "I see." She closed the book, put it in the satchel, and took out a small bag.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Anders slowly asked.

She avoided looking at his eyes. "It feels so familiar, somehow. But then again, we do have statues like that back home, too." She picked up the satchel by its straps and wore it as a backpack, then put on her cloak again. She hadn't answered his question.

He had to ask. "Where are you from?"

She blinked. "No time for either of us to explain, remember? Bigger things are afoot. It's inconsequential to our current mission, anyway. Have this." She threw him the little bag.

He studied the small paper package. "What is it?"

"Food," she replied. "Nuts and dried fruits. Not much, but it's something."

"Why waste perfectly good paper to package rations?" At the mention of food, however, his stomach growled loudly and he groaned.

Rhys smiled and got on her feet.

"Don't you need to rest?" he asked, as he was gobbling down the mix. It was surprisingly good.

"I'll be fine," she replied.

Anders didn't press the issue. He got up, feeling much better than before. Patting a pocket, he felt a small bottle. Good. He would probably need that lyrium before the day was done.

"Let's go," he said. He stole a look at her and caught her eye. He cleared his throat, then said, "Thank you."

And she smiled at him again, her expression surprisingly soft. "Anytime," she replied.

OoOoOoOo

They were at the feet of the Merdaine when they saw the group going up.

"I see four guards and about fifteen captives. The guards have guns, too. I can't see anybody's face from this angle." Rhys whispered, holding the byeknowqueuelarch. "Can you do that vine thing again?"

Anders shook his head. "Not on this kind of terrain. What about the cave? Can you see if there's anybody else in there?"

She took out the box she had used earlier and pressed the glyph. After a short while, she said, "I can't be entirely sure, but it seems like there's no more than one person in the cave. What do you suggest?"

"We follow them into the cave and strike from the back."

"I…" she looked at her hands. "Strike, how? I have no bullets."

Anders guessed she was talking about the weapons they had taken from the two thugs.

"Here." He offered her his dagger. She made no move to take it.

"I don't know how to use that thing!"

He had no time for this "damsel in distress" antics! "You stick the pointy side into the enemy."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"You have never killed," he said. It was not a question.

"Of course not!" she said in an incredulous voice. "Have you?"

"Yes, I have."

She looked rather shocked, then dismayed.

"I don't know which cloud you fell from, little girl, but around here we work on a 'kill-or-be-killed basis,' he snapped. "So take it and learn how to play with it, fast."

She took the dagger, holding it awkwardly in her hand.

Anders rolled his eyes. "Just stay back and let me do the work." He took out the lyrium, opened the bottle and drank it in one gulp.

"You're ah, glowing a bit again."

"Don't worry. I'm just replenishing my magic."

"Magic. Of course. I think I'll just stay here while you rain fire and brimstone upon the poor fools, thank you very much."

He looked at her.

"What?" she asked. "Aren't I allowed to be sarcastic when faced with the potentially deadly unknown?"

"Of course you are. One couldn't possibly face possible death without cracking smartass jokes."

"My point exactly! Keeps me going."

"Enough of this. Let's go."

"Aye aye, captain!"

"I'm not a captain," he said in mock seriousness. She raised her brows. "Silly me, you were being sarcastic again. You have ways to go, you know."

"I'll try to absorb some of your wisdom, oh great one!" she sing-songed in a mocking tone.

He couldn't resist throwing back, "Who knows? You might enjoy it." He said, winking at her.

She snorted and they rose to follow the group.

OoOoOoOo

The edged closer to the cave's entrance, crouching and hiding behind the jagged rocks.

"Fall behind me," Anders whispered. That's right, he thought. Follow the mage as he bravely stomps into the unknown.

She silently followed him, dagger at hand.

They followed the distant footsteps as silently as they could, hearing the occasional loud curse and terrified screams.

After a while, they finally saw the dim light of torches ahead and moved to hide behind a large rock. They were right behind the group.

Rhys risked a look. "The guard's backs are turned", she breathed. "Shit!" She gestured for someone, presumably one of the captives, to be silent.

Staff in hand, Anders began to mutter under his breath.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" A guard yelled and they heard footsteps coming their way.

Rhys crouched in the shadows behind Anders.

The guard turned and saw them. "What—" Anders hit him in the head with his staff and he fell unconscious. It was too late though; his cry of pain had already alerted the others.

"Scheisse! They got Drogo!" Someone cried. The wall next to them began to crack as innumerable small pieces hit it with tremendous force. The sound was deafening.

"The guns!" Rhys shouted. "Be careful!" She grasped the gun from the unconscious guard.

They were out of time. Anders released the spell and they heard cries of surprise. The firing seized.
"Now!" He yelled to Rhys and they came out of hiding.

The guards were still disoriented when he stroke. "Zoubarâri!" one of them screamed, just before he was hit with a fireball.

"Two more to go!" Anders yelled.

He heard the deafening sound again, felt a sharp pain in his calf and howled. He threw another spell and heard a yelp. The last guard! He had to find him before he—

Once again, he heard one of the strange weapons fire and almost clutched his ears. "Rhys!" he screamed, his heart beating fast and loud.

But Rhys was fine. The last guard fell down, a pool of blood growing around his chest.

"Shit shit shit shit shit!" She ran to him, still holding the gun. "Are you ok? I have a med kit for your leg," she said, her voice shrill again.

"You saved me," he said, half surprised himself.

"I—killed—" she stammered. Her eyes were wild, unfocused.

"He would have killed me," he stated emphatically, ignoring the burning pain on his leg. "Kill or be killed, remember?"

Tears started streaming down her face. "I killed him. I-I could have wounded him in the leg, incapacitated him, not –not kill—"

"Shhh."He held her like a child, wiping away the dampness on her cheeks with his fingers until she stopped whimpering.

"You did what you had to and for that, I am thankful. Now is not the time to break down, Rhys. You have to be strong."

"Strong. Yes." She nodded.

It was then somebody shouted, "Rhys? Is that you?"

She turned towards the villagers and gasped. "No way! Cortez?" Anders raised his brows.

She ran to the man, the shock of killing someone seemingly forgotten for the moment.

"A friend of yours, I assume?" Anders muttered.

"Cortez, I had no clue! How did you end up here? Why wasn't your tracker activated? Are you alright? Did you find Andrea?"

"Slow down, girl!" the man said. "I'm in pain. My head's swimming. Got any painkillers on you?"

"Yes, of course!" she said and after fishing around in her satchel for a bit, gave him a small white bottle. "I'm out of water, though."

"No worries," he replied, popping the bottle open and downing a pill.

Anders started to move towards them, when he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks.

She was crouched with some of the women, her eyes dazed as she took him in.

He went close, his voice coming out like shards of glass. "Muoter."

A terrible hope lit up in her face. "Richart? Mein sun?

"It's me," Anders whispered, his heart in his throat. "Ich kam zurück, Muoter."

Chapter notes:

Scheisse!: Shit!

Richart: Anders' name before he was taken by the Templars (after all, Anders was a nickname). Note that this is not canon.

Mein sun?: My son?

Ich kam zurück: I came back.