I'm keeping up with my promises and publishing within a week! This is my attempt to move along the story and add in my own stuff. Next time will be Hawke's date with Cullen! Not sure what kind of audience this has since Anders and Cullen are appealing for totally different reasons (except that they had the same voice actor before DA2), but hopefully some people are pleased! Thanks for all the comments/follows/favs!
Hawke
If anyone looked surprised to see a tired but eager Astrid at their doorstep in the early morning, no one showed it. She had hung low for a day, speaking to Varric in his room about Deep Roads business and spending time with her mother and Bethany; but only one day after her embarrassing public confrontation with Anders (which she had decided to officially block from memory), she was ready to move on and do something she'd been meaning to get done a while ago.
"Why are we going up a mountain again, Hawke?" Varric asked as they trudged through the grassy trail off the main road to the coast. "I'm going to ruin my boots."
"Oh please, you sound like Isabela. Do none of you have outdoorsy gear?" Astrid demanded. "I need to give something to the Dalish Keeper. I owe someone a favor."
"If you paid as much for your clothes as I did, you'd be bitching about it to," Varric retorted. "But ahhh, I know this story. The Witch of the Wilds? You know, if your handwriting weren't so atrocious you could have riches by now from all your stories."
"Yeah, then maybe I could afford your clothes. Luckily I have you around to do all the work for me," she said with a wink.
The dwarf laughed. "If you think writing is the work, you're crazier than I thought. Yeah, you stick to the slaying, I'll stick to the storytelling."
"What's this about a Witch of the Wilds?" Fenris asked. He had been silent for most of the trek to Sundermount, except to suggest paths as Astrid looked over the map.
"Oh, I have a feeling you wouldn't like her," Bethany remarked snarkily beside Astrid, prompting chuckle from Varric.
Fenris rolled his eyes before giving her a sharp look from under his silvery white hair. "What would give you that idea?"
Astrid snorted. "She's something of a legend. According to the tales she's hundreds, maybe thousands of years old."
Now it was Fenris' turn to snort. "Impossible."
Astrid met his eyes. "No. She's the most powerful mage I've ever seen. Sometimes I wonder if she was even real."
"Hmm. You're starting to sound like him now," Fenris replied, gesturing to Varric.
"She wishes, Broody."
Astrid shook her head. "Anyway, let's focus on climbing this mountain. I want to be back in Lowtown by dusk."
"Yeah, don't wanna let Prince Charming down," Varric said.
Astrid nearly stopped in her tracks at Bethany's stunned "Who?"
The archer shot Varric a dirty look. She hadn't told Bethany about Cullen asking her for a drink. She'd only mentioned that she did the templars a small favor and needed to collect money from one of them later. If Bethany knew that the templar in question had an interest in her, the girl would die of panic. Not only did she not want to scare her sister, but Astrid felt guilty for agreeing to get a drink with the man. Templars had haunted Bethany's dreams for years, and the thought of losing her to them had haunted Astrid. How could she explain to Bethany that she was getting a drink with someone from her nightmares? Even Cullen, with his blushing cheeks and polite speech could prove to be a deadly threat.
What am I doing? Astrid thought for the hundredth time.
She'd thought maybe with Cullen she wouldn't be left alone on Gamlen's front steps, cold and rejected. Cullen made it clear he wanted her. Unlike someone she was refusing to think about. However, if he discovered Bethany was a mage, they would all be dead. And it would be all her fault.
Her temporary solution? Keep Bethany as far away from Cullen as possible.
"No one," Astrid answered quickly. "Just one of the templars is hideously ugly—he's got a big boil on his face and a huge bald spot, you know, the works. And Varric calls him Prince Charming to be funny. He's the one I'm getting the money from."
"Huh," Bethany said. "That's funny. Sort of mean though, don't you think?"
Fenris raised a thin brow at Astrid. "Yes, that is a bit mean. Hard to believe you two could be so cruel."
Varric, quick minded as ever, adjusted Bianca on his back and shook his head. "Well that guy was so rude, I didn't think twice about it. Typical templar. Am I right, Sunshine?"
"You don't have to say that twice," Bethany agreed with a laugh. "But Astrid, please be careful. I would hate to see you hurt."
Ugh. Astrid felt like she could throw up, she was so guilty. "'Course I will be, Beth. Come on, let's go."
Varric shook his head at her behind the younger Hawke's back as they walked. Astrid exhaled deeply and gave him a meaningful glance. I don't even want to talk about it.
"You seem…awfully nervous, Merrill," Astrid said as the ragtag group hiked up one of the foggy Dalish paths up yet another mountain.
If Astrid had known she'd have to hike up a whole mountain just to meet with some elves who called her a "shem," (which she was pretty sure was racist) and made her climb another mountain, she might have thrown Flemeth's stupid trinket into the sea on the boat over to Kirkwall. At least this little elven girl, Keeper Marethari's "First" seemed kind, if a bit strange.
"I've never met a human before," she admitted, her huge glossy green eyes glancing quickly over at Astrid. She flipped a stray piece of black hair out of her pale face and continued. "Dalish mothers frighten their children with stories about you, you know?"
Astrid stared at her quizzically, not sure of what to say.
"Not you personally of course!" the elf corrected quickly. "I'm sure they don't have any tales about you. Or not scary ones at least."
Astrid was about to reply, but Merrill shook her head and stopped walking. "Not that you're not notable enough to have a story…I'll just shut up now."
"Well, I'm glad you've finally got to meet some humans, Merrill. We're not all that bad," Astrid said.
"Except for how they stole the elves' land and occasionally enslave them." Fenris contributed.
Merrill's eyes widened to impossible sizes, as if just realizing that fact just now.
"Well I have done none of those things," Astrid said with a glare at Fenris. "Don't worry, Merrill. The human city isn't all that bad."
"Except for the criminals," Varric said.
"And the templars," Bethany added.
"And the mages." Fenris scowled at the younger Hawke sister.
"Um, oh, alright," Merrill said.
Astrid rubbed a hand across her forehead. "Ah. Okay, let's get walking."
They barely walked a few yards when skeletal figures equipped with weapons rose up from the cakey dirt beneath them. It wasn't difficult work—Astrid's only fear was protecting Merrill; however the young elf surprised all of them by using what Astrid had thought was a walking stick at her back to cast swirling black hexes. One by one skeletons were stunned or writhing in agony, just waiting for someone to slice a head off or pin them against the ground with an arrow. The only one who wasn't pleased at the sight was Fenris for, well, obvious reasons.
The biggest surprise however, was about an hour later when the sweaty, muddy, and bloodstained group reached the top of the mountain after going through a cave full of huge spiders, and killing (or re-killing?) dozens of skeletons and demons.
"Andraste's knickerweasels," Astrid panted, forgetting it was one of Anders' silly phrases she was fond of. She winced subtly. Not thinking about him! "How do your people live here with all these monsters?"
Merrill shrugged. "They mostly leave us alone."
Bethany, whose hair was a tangled mess from when a skeleton managed to grab onto her, looked like she was going to be sick. "Mostly?"
But Merrill was staring at the glowing blue barrier up ahead that was blocking their way.
"How are we gonna get through that, Daisy?" Varric asked. He already had a nickname for her.
"I can open the way forward," Merrill said grimly. "One moment." The small woman approached the barrier with a determined glint in her eyes. She stopped, braced herself, and pulled a knife from her waistband. Astrid watched curiously. Wha—
Merrill yelped as she sliced into her own pale hand. Blood dripped from her wound and seemed to permeate in the air around her. The elf flung her hands forward and magic flew into the barrier, collapsing it before them.
"Blood magic? Foolish, very foolish," Fenris said, shaking his head. He didn't look surprised in the least.
Astrid on the other hand was shocked. "Merrill! Do you know what you just did?" she demanded stupidly. Duh, of course she knows. Why else would she do it?
"Yes, it was blood magic. But I know what I'm doing. The spirit helped us, didn't it?"
Astrid exchanged a skeptical look with her younger sister. Their father Malcolm had warned them vehemently against those who used blood magic. Bethany was to never use it, and Astrid and Carver were to protect the family from anyone who did use it. Blood mages cannot be trusted, the Hawke patriarch had said. Not because they are inherently evil, but because the deals that come with it are quite sinister.
"You summoned a demon, not a spirit," Astrid said sternly. She liked Merrill, but she could not stand by and treat this lightly. For all of their sakes.
"Demons are just Spirits, like Honor or Joy," Merrill defended. For the first time she sounded defensive, angry even. "It's not their fault they are what they are!"
Hawke fought the temptation to snort. She knew all about Spirits. They were really pretty annoying sometimes...
"Ignore the tiger," Fenris said with the most colossal eye roll Astrid had ever seen. "Not it's fault that it's going to eat you. Sound advice." For once, she realized she agreed with him.
Bethany was also upset. "Surely there was a safer way."
Merrill ignored them and began walking ahead. "Be careful ahead, restless things prowl the heights."
Varric shook his head. "I don't like the look of this, Hawke. This girl's cute, but she seems like a few priestesses short of a chantry."
Astrid muttered an agreement but approached the area anyway. They'd come this far, what else was she supposed to do? She joked about selling the witch's amulet to a merchant or throwing it into the sea, but in reality she wouldn't dare. Bethany dreamt of heartless warriors, flaming swords emblazed on their armor, slamming down their front door to drag her to a dark abyss. But lately in Astrid's sleep she saw predatory yellow eyes regarding her from the shadows and heard a whisper tickle her ear that make the skin on the back of her neck tingle. Your struggles have only just begun.
It was high time she paid her debt to Flemeth.
As she walked across the chilly burial ground, boots sinking into thick mud with each step toward the stone platform at the edge of the area, she heard a sound. It was the ground beside her shaking, she realized as a boney blackened hand shot from the earth to grab her leg.
"Shit!" she cursed, swinging her leg around trying to shake the creature. In the chaos, her dagger fell from her belt onto the ground. Meanwhile the arcane horror was dragging itself up from the ground by its other arm and digging into her leg with its claws. She struggled to grab her bow from where it hung on her back and shakily strung an arrow. "Come on, come on, come on!"
The arrow pierced through the thing's skull, making it fall limply to the ground. Freedom! The rest of the creatures sprouting from the ground were child's play at this point, although Astrid's leg was stinging in pain. When the last of the monsters burned to a crisp from a well done flame spell by Bethany, the woman took the time to sit on a headstone shaped rock and examine the wounded area. Ugly brown and purple welts covered her left calf. She'd need to see a healer for that later. But, Astrid wondered, who? She didn't actually know any other healers besides well, you know… She cursed quietly to herself. Whatever. She'd figure that out later. Now it was time for the ritual.
Anders
Anders stood at the foot of the russet stone steps leading up to Astrid's home in Lowtown. He pulled his coat closer to him as a crisp wind blew past his shoulders. For the hundredth time he wondered what he was doing there.
I am not going to apologize, he thought as he paced. I will not apologize. But as he glanced down at the trio of violet flowers in his hand, the statement seemed less and less true.
Your gift was given to you by the Maker, yet she is choosing to associate with a man who declared himself above you—above us, Justice declared. Forget the woman and focus on your cause.
The Spirit had a point. However, during their argument he had not spoken to her as a mage defending his cause, but as a lover scorned—yet he wasn't even her lover! He was all rage and jealousy at the thought of that templar taking her out. The templar would buy her a drink, hear her stories, get to listen to her laugh and smile; The templar might even kiss her at her doorstep at the end of the night, or worse, do things he'd only dreamed of doing with Astrid. The thought of that made his skin itch and his stomach turn.
Anders regretted his behavior. He would never support her seeing a templar, not under any circumstance, but he could have been honest about his feelings for her. The look on her face—so hurt yet proud as she tried to contain tears, had ripped at his heart.
She's a nuisance, Justice insisted stubbornly.
I'm letting her move on. I just want our relationship to be civil.
He really couldn't blame her for moving on. He was penniless, possessed by a spirit, and had made it clear that they couldn't be together. The templar might even be the saner choice, he realized with a shake of his head. The best thing to do was to make things right between them and stop all the flirting, all the teasing, and stay out of her personal affairs.
If friendship is all you desire, why have you brought flowers? demanded Justice. You spent your last coins on them.
Anders sighed. He didn't even know anymore. Don't people do that platonically? I don't know, because I'm an idiot?
The mage finally approached the door and gave it a knock. There was some movement inside and a tan man with dark, graying hair opened the door very slightly, looking out with sharp eyes. "Yes? What do you want?" he asked impatiently. Ah, Gamlen I presume.
"I'm here to see Astrid. Is she around?"
"No," he snapped.
"Do you know where she is? The Hanged Man maybe?"
"No. She left early this morning. How should I know where those brats go?"
"Ah, I see. I'm assuming your nieces received their charm from elsewhere in the family then," the mage muttered.
"What?"
"Gamlen, is there someone at the door?" a voice cut in. "I've been expecting a messenger from the Viscount about the estate, you know."
The door opened more widely, allowing a thin, dark-haired woman to peer out at him. Though at a glance she looked more like Bethany, the soft slope of her nose and the inquisitive arch in her brows were all Astrid. She was past her prime and her skin appeared wan from years of stress, but her smile was warm and it was obvious she was once very beautiful.
Below them, the girls' mabari warhound sprang from the house, tail wagging and tongue hanging from its mouth. It immediately began sniffing Anders' robes and licking his hand, much to his disgust. He stepped back and wiped his hand on his robe. If only he could persuade her to get a kitten.
"Oh! Hello, I see you've met Precious. Who might you be?" Astrid's mother asked.
He pulled his hands from the mangy dog and wiped them on his robes. "Hello madam, I'm Anders, a friend of your daughter."
"Anders?" her thin brows creased over her eyes. "I thought you were…older. So you're a friend of Bethany's?"
The mage was confused, to say the least. "I suppose I am, but Astrid and I are closer. I came here to see her actually, and er, give her these." He shoved the flowers forward for her to see.
Gamlen snorted. "Good luck with that one," he grumbled and disappeared into the house.
The woman on the other hand couldn't hide her excitement. "Oh! Well, here come in from the cold. Let me put those in water."
Anders reluctantly followed her into the small, but warm house, staring at the few items such as the writing desk and the small kitchen table. He felt strange. He'd never been in her house before and it felt wrong to finally be inside without Astrid even there.
"Here, let me take these," the woman said. "I'm Leandra, by the way, the girls' mother." Leandra set to filling a small vase with water and gestured to a spot at the table for him to sit. Gamlen was sitting by the fire, glaring daggers at the dog as it followed them inside. "Why the flowers, Anders?" Leandra asked.
Oh great. He hadn't ran laps since the Wardens, but he thought he could probably high tail it out of the house relatively unscathed. "I feel that I owe Astrid an apology. We got into an argument, and...well, I didn't handle it very well."
Surprisingly she gave a knowing smile. "Astrid's always been stubborn, just like her father. She'll come around when she sees fit. Those will certainly help, they're lovely."
Anders liked this woman and the way she smiled at him without judgment of his shoddy old feathered coat or the sagging purple flowers on the table. He could see equal parts Astrid and Bethany on her, even from this small interaction. As for Gamlen, well, he could see what looked like a mustard stain on his shirt. The man only wished he could have met Leandra sooner, maybe at one of the dinners Astrid had invited him to. He'd only known of short trysts with women, not of meeting the folks. Almost everyone he'd been with had been in the same situation as him at the Tower—they no longer had any family to speak of.
"It's lovely to meet you finally. I've heard so much about your family from Astrid and Bethany," Anders said. "I—I envy your bond."
"Us?" Gamlen asked with a loud cough as he choked on whatever he was drinking from the flask he'd pulled from his pocket. "You must be touched in the head!"
Leandra shot him an icy glare. "We have a bond, Gamlen. We…we play cards sometimes."
He snorted. "Yes, we're thick as thieves."
The woman rolled her eyes. "The bond between mother and child is much stronger of course. I couldn't imagine life without Bethany and Astrid. After my husband and Carver…it was unbearable."
"Carver?" Anders felt slightly dirty even asking about the name. He had heard the sisters say the it, but he had never asked the significance. It seemed…too personal. While he and Astrid shared much, there was still a sort of agreed upon distance between them. Briefly he wondered whether he should take back the question.
"You don't know about Carver?" Leandra asked, her eyebrows curving over her eyes.
"Oh boy," Gamlen said. "I'll start the kettle."
"Carver was Bethany's twin. He was with us when we left Lothering during the Blight," she explained. "He was a brave boy. We were travelling when a horde of darkspawn caught up to us, and…" Leandra paused for a moment, seemed to gather herself, and continued, "Carver charged ahead at an ogre, trying to protect us. He—he…"
Anders reached out and touched her hand, sending small waves of healing magic. She wasn't hurt, but it would calm her. "I'm so sorry," he said.
"It happened over a year ago. We just all seem to blame ourselves for it. I'm surprised Astrid never mentioned it."
"There's not much time for talk with what we do, I suppose," Anders offered. Leandra's mouth dropped and her brows rose skyward. Anders quickly added, "Fighting criminals, I mean."
Leandra nodded as she wiped her eyes. "Well, I'm glad she has such a kind young man in her life. Thank you for stopping by."
Leandra walked the mage to the door and made him agree to visit again soon. She also promised him that Astrid would get her flowers. Gamlen snarled something like "And stay out."
Anders walked down the stone steps feeling a bit strange and guilty, as if he'd just read her diary. The visit had given him a lot to think about. He briefly wondered what she was doing today and hoped she was happy as he began the walk to Dark Town. His thoughts wandered dangerously close to her upcoming date before he stopped them in his tracks. Hopefully you'll see her soon, he thought instead, despite the grumbles of the Spirit within.