Chapter Four: Tracking Anders

My Dearest and Most Darling Wife,

Just so you know I've had three letters arrive for you. Two from Orlais, smelling vaguely of disapproval, and one from Garavel in Amaranthine. He sent me along a note telling me that you've taken off somewhere (he was unspecific as to your destination but had a fairly good idea) and that he does not know when you'll be back (could I please direct him in your absence).

I love you woman, but sometimes I don't think I understand. But, as I can think back on at least forty-seven specific occasions in which you've rushed into trouble without consultation or consideration, I will strive to maintain my air of Kingly Fortitude. It has become impressive since you saw me last, my sweet. Zevran says I've developed a swagger.

If you're reading this you must have people forwarding your letters and who would do that? Garavel says he doesn't know where you are. Perhaps you're off on an epic quest to find me that cheese I love so very much. I hope, for the sake of my sanity, that's all you're up to and not some unapproved diplomatic missions of ridiculousness. I remember what happened in Nevarra that one time, you know, and I'd rather not pay my weight in gold to keep our country from falling into war . . . again.

As the letters from Orlais arrived just today and I've had Garavel's for at least a week now, I should inform you that your absence has been noted by someone. I'm not really sure who though; I'm still concerned about having terrible tickles brought down upon me for reading your messages without your express permission, you know.

I have received a short note from Weisshaupt however. It said simply, "We need resolution or we shall resolve this for you." I can only imagine that this all has something to do with the other letter I've received just yesterday. First Enchanter Irving has sent word of a disturbance in Kirkwall. The Chantry exploded there and has thrown our Circle into utter chaos. Irving said that about three days ago the Templars lost control. They were sent across Lake Calenhad deprived of their armor and swords and told to find better jobs. There's been no blood shed but any boat seen crossing the water is promptly sent back the way it came with terrible winds.

We've had no disturbances in Denerim, yet. If anything we've had peace here. Crime has declined sharply and I haven't heard of one use of magic on the streets in a week. Zevran has been out among the people and it's his distinct impression that the mages are leaving in droves. For where, I do not know. The alienage seems to be the one exception. I went and spoke to Elder Shianni to see how things were going. I could feel the magic pouring out of most households. Made my hair stand on end. She said things were quiet. And left it at that. They're up to something but I don't want to go accusing before I've got something solid. I sent over a coupl-

Oh, you wrote me a letter! I love it when you write-

Darling.

Really?

I'll have you know I have a head ache now. I should rewrite this blasted whole letter reminding you to keep your nose out of the matters of state. We agreed that I would handle those problems. Please be safe. Please. I'm sorry about your friend; I know you were fond of him. I hope you find the answers you're looking for and please come home soon. Or, you know, write me twice a day so I know you've not been run through or something equally terrifying.

Your Loving and Most Devoted Husband,

Alistair

-!-

The last figment of her dream fades slowly when Elissa moves in her borrowed bed. She holds on for as long as possible, grasping blindly at the feeling of Alistair's arms around her. It has been more than two months since she's seen his reassuring smile, still boyishly sincere despite the long path their lives have traveled and she misses him. Oh how she misses him.

With one last grin Alistair is gone from her mind and she huffs, throwing off the covers. She can hear the house around her, already awake. The feeling of magic thrums softly in the room but it does not put her on her guard as it has in the past. It is soft, and reassuring, and is making her hungry. She finally opens her eyes to the daylight and stretches. It's good to be on solid ground once more.

She is pulling on her simple clothing, pants and shirt designed to be inconspicuous, when there is a knock at the door. "Yes?"

There is a shuffling of feet in the hallway before she gets a response. Almost tentative, a soft female voice answers. "Um, breakfast is almost ready Your Majesty." Elissa grunts a response and pulls on her armor. She's had it for years. It is lightweight and maneuverable; she'd purchased it in Orzammar before the city cut itself off from the outside world and its been close to a decade since she's worn it. It slides back on her body like an old lover and she smiles as she finishes the buckles on her shoulder. She smiles softly and amends, or a current husband much missed by this wife.

Even her finger feels lonely without her wedding band. She would not risk losing it, however, and knows that her second will guard the jewelry with his life.

Her daggers are slipped into place and she pulls the sleeveless cloak over them. Ready for her second day in Kirkwall, Elissa steps into the hall.

-!-

"That . . . irrational . . . Templar." A puff of flour explodes into the air and Marian cannot help but laugh out loud. A string of oaths follows in which her cousin (second or third she's never quite sure) debases everything that's ever been said about the Templars in a positive manner. Solona ends her rant with a rush of water from her fingertips as their breakfast explodes in her face. Marian is having a hard time remaining upright with the laughter running through her.

Solona continues, "If he thinks, for one minute, that I'm going to sit by and let him terrify small children one moment then strut around like a cock on parade he's got another thing coming." The wooden spoon she waves in her hand crackles with the threat of unused magic and it glows blue when she points it at Marian. "This is all your doing!"

"Me!" She has the good decency to look appalled at the accusation despite the tears that stream down her cheeks at the mage's outburst.

"Yes! You had to go and do that thing where you look so very serious and threatening and he just cows to your command. I remember. I know what you look like when you're half-dead. Not pretty, that is, but does he? No! Man has no spine." Solona is still breath hand when she lowers the spoon and turns back to the counter. It looks like a warzone, a once-potentially delicious wreck of a meal.

Marian would like to open her mouth and protest. Surely Cullen isn't that frightened of her. They took down Meredith together, after all. He was there. He's got a hell of a spine and she doesn't think the Templar would ever be able to cow to anyone, let alone her. She can't say a word though. The flour has found its way into her mouth and down into her lungs and between the coughing and the last of the laughter still working its way from her she is incapable of speech.

This is how Elissa finds them, moments after Solona has finally calmed down enough to deposit her spoon firmly on the counter. The Queen pauses in the doorway. Marian would love to greet her and explain the situation but she can feel her face burning red as she's finally able to take great gasping breaths. "And I always thought Wardens were ridiculously messy. Good to know we've got competition, at the very least."

"Oh!" The mage at the counter jumps in surprise and whirls. Her movement succeeds in sending more breakfast into the air. Marian waves her hand frantically in front of her face to avoid choking once more. With some quickly chanted words the air starts to clear on its own, the breeze pulling through the open window drags the debris out of the house. It's still a mess in the kitchen and Elissa is smiling at the two of them. "Oh! Hello! We didn't get a chance to be introduced yesterday. I'm Solona." Her cousin extends a hand and Elissa looks at it dubiously; Solona's fingers are coated in a paste of flour and water. When Solona realizes she's filthy she blushes a deep shade of red.

Marian is so close to laughing herself silly again. First Enchanters aren't supposed to get nervous in front of royalty, are they? The mage wipes her fingers frantically on her apron and extends her hand again.

"It's nice to meet you, Solona. My name is Elissa." The two grasp hands and Marian swears that for a second there's a sadness and an anger that flashes across Solona's face. The expression is gone so quickly that she must have imagined it.

There's a tense moment where no one speaks and the only sounds are drifting from other parts of the house. Marian thinks she hears Bethany in the library, whistling softly to herself. The last of their aborted breakfast, a ham she'd received as thanks for assisting a farmer with an issue not two days ago, tumbles off the counter. Three sets of eyes fly to the sound of the crash. The tense moment comes to an end when the three women dissolve into nervous yet relieved giggles.

-!-

Elissa starts her first full day in Kirkwall headed to the Keep. She allows Marian to lead them both, with the First Enchanter on their heels, to the Viscount's Keep. Elissa plans to see the city but what she really wants is to talk to people who knew Anders; another angle that doesn't mean making the Viscountess cry in her cups again. Marian seems to know what she's looking for and she takes her to meet with the Captain of the Guard. Elissa instantly likes her. Aveline is tall and strong and beautiful in the proud way Elissa had always considered her mother to be beautiful. The ginger woman welcomes her and bows and thanks her for visiting and Elissa is all grins when she's introduced to Aveline's second.

The elf is unlike any man she's met before. He is beautiful in the way that all elves are beautiful but his skin. Oh, his skin is laced with delicate silver lines tinged with blue. Elissa thinks it must be lyrium. It's got that faint ring she's recognized many times in the Deep Roads. The elf bows as well and introduces himself as Fenris.

Elissa thinks that he's just as dangerous as Zevran ever has been. The large sword strapped to his back makes her think that perhaps she might actually be able to dodge one of his attacks, though.

Marian cannot get away from her duties as Viscountess so she leaves Elissa with Aveline who in turns hands her off to Fenris. She doesn't think she needs a guide but Fenris asks her to wait a moment and changes into street clothes. When the elf reappears, covered in a spiky armor that looks more intimidating than the Warden plate she's got back home, Elissa is sort of glad he'll be her guide today.

"Have you found Kirkwall to your liking, Highness?"

She's asked him four times already to just call her Elissa and she doesn't correct him a fifth. "From what I've seen. Sure. It's big and intimidating but I like that in a city. Makes them easier to defend."

Fenris raises one slim, dark eyebrow and gives a short laugh. "I may have to disagree with you on that, Highness." He doesn't extrapolate on his statement and Elissa doesn't ask more. "Where can I show you first?"

She thinks and looks about. They're in Hightown which she knows is the richest district. The day is warmer than she's used to and she thinks they're far too close to the sky up here. "Perhaps a market, if there is one. That's usually a good place to find gossip." She glances at her companion. She's feeling the need for subterfuge and he's not all that inconspicuous. "Will people even talk to me with you around?"

"I would think so." He inclines his head slightly to her. "This city likes me well enough." Again he offers no further explanation. She can't stop drawing comparisons between Fenris and Zevran. She'd have had her ear talked off by now if her assassin had been at her side; she thinks that if he could get away with it Fenris wouldn't use more than one word at a time.

"Well, let's get started, then."

They wander around the merchants in Hightown. Elissa keeps her ears open while she browses a few stands and she notices that the gentry don't even give Fenris a second glance. He's been here a while then, she supposes. The only way an elf with glowing tattoos doesn't draw attention is if his presence is routine.

She hears nothing of import though and soon Fenris is leading her down the stairs into what he calls Lowtown. It's dirtier here and reminds her of Denerim. Loud and exciting but still not terribly fruitful. The elf tells her about meeting Hawke, he never calls her Marian or Viscountess. Just Hawke helping him take down his former owner. She's surprised to learn about his history and his story carries them through Lowtown and deeper into the city.

When they reach the bottom of the city he calls it Darktown and she's assailed with a terrible odor. She covers her mouth with her scarf and Fenris chuckles at her softly. The people down here are filthy. They look desperately at her and Fenris; he tries to keep his distance. She can't, though. When she presses coin into the desperate hand of an urchin she's blown away when the child gives her a proper Fereldan thanks in a flawless accent.

"You, child. You are from Fereldan?"

The kid, she doesn't even know if it's a boy or a girl, goes to pull away but she holds tight to their wrist. "Yes, messere. I was born during the Blight. Me family's been here ever since." She releases her grip and the kid scampers away.

It's then that she pauses and listens. The noise down here is quieter than in Lowtown and she can pick out the accent of her homeland everywhere around her. There's a terrible dread that plants itself inside her stomach and she backs into Fenris. "Is everyone down here from Ferelden, Fenris?"

He steadies her from behind and allows her to regain her footing. "For the most part, Highness. Ferelden or apostate." He sneers out the last word and Elissa feels even worse. Her people. She had never considered what would have happened to them as they fled the Blight; she'd only dealt with the ones that remained.

Her voice cracks. "Is there someone here that leads them?"

"Not any more, compliments of Hawke." She gives him a curious look and he frowns so deeply that she's struck by the utter broody-ness of the glare. "Ander was their leader. Until Hawke killed him."

So the other shoe drops and Elissa has to put her hand out to keep from being bowled over. She catches a railing but still sways. It was Marian? Marian killed Anders? For the Chantry, or for something else? Oh, Maker. Her head spins and she tries to refocus on what's going on around her. Fenris is still glaring at her and she swallows before asking, "What was he doing down here?"

Fenris releases her arm; when did he even grab on to her again? She's steady on her feet when he steps up next her and points along a set of staircases. "He ran a free clinic and tried to help who he could."

Of course he did, she thinks.

"Is the clinic that way? Is it still open?" Beside her Fenris is tensing. She wonders why. "Fenris?"

"Yes, the abomination's clinic is that way."

She looks at him sharply now. His anger goes beyond the dislike of mages she's seen from him earlier in the day. "Abomination? That's a little harsh, don't you think? Considering he was born with the magic."

When Fenris returns her look she has the feeling that she's missed something very important and integral during her time in Kirkwall. "Fenris?" She's pretty sure she's missed a lot of very important things so far during her stay.

He refuses to answer. Instead he starts off towards the clinic and she really has no choice but to follow.

When he pushes open the door to the clinic she's assaulted all over again by smells. These are more raw, bloodier, than her first whiff of Darktown. She holds the cloth tighter and looks around the dim interior. There look to be ten beds for both sides of the room and each bed is full. Some of the patients moan and cry softly. Others are still and those are the ones that concern her the most. She looks around for a caretaker, finding instead a small group of women who look just as ragged as the patients. They flit from bed to bed, giving water and dispensing small bits of healing potions.

There is one who looks so wildly different that Elissa is taken aback. A small woman, an elf by the look of her, is dressed in the garments of a Dalish First. The light green armor is tinged with blood as she presses hands to a bleeding wound on a man's thigh. The man screams at the pressure and Elissa swears she hears a curse from the woman.

A soft blue light filters from the woman's fingers. A healing spell. The light fades very quickly and the young elf looks exhausted. Next to Elissa, she hears Fenris give a growl and she turns to look at him.

To her complete and utter amazement he's bloody glowing! She gasps and steps away. The spaces in his armor are lit with light and she squints at him. The light comes from every line that marks Fenris's body and she gasps once more. What strange secrets Kirkwall has been hiding.

"Fenris! Stop your silliness! You're frightening the patients." The words are spoken in Dalish. Fenris glares behind her and Elissa can hear footsteps make their way to the two of them. The Dalish elf raises a hand and brings it towards Fenris's arm.

The man recoils quickly but he stops the glowing. "Do not touch me, Blood Mage." This is . . . unexpected. Even from the surly elf. Elissa looks over at the woman. Her arms are bandaged from wrist to elbow but she sees no scars in the open of blood magic use.

"I gave that up Fenris. I told you that. I'm trying to help here, now. Help the people like Anders did." The woman sounds distraught; Fenris actually turns on his heels and stalks out of the room.

The woman bows her head and takes a deep breath. She's muttering a few words under her breath, Dalish but incomprehensible. Finally she looks up and notices Elissa. "Oh! Hello!" She seems to brighten a bit and looks Elissa up and down. "You don't seem to be injured. Can I help you with something?"

Elissa nods and glances around. The other helpers have returned to their duties and the clinic has quieted back to moans. "I'm here to ask about Anders. You knew him?"

The other woman is openly surprised. "Anders? Did you know him, too?"

"Yes. He was a friend when he lived in Ferelden."

The woman is chuckling now and walks to the back of the room. Elissa follows as she opens a door and motions for Elissa to enter. It is a shabby living quarter. A low table sits closest to the door. The surface is covered with papers and the chair that sits at the table is pushed back. The only other furniture is a bed with threadbare sheets and a small, embroidered pillow. When she sees the pillow, with its delicate flower work, she knows this is where Anders lived.

She crosses the room and her fingers ghost over once familiar flowers and birds. It's survived the last decade but it's grimy and terribly frayed. She can feel the elven woman watching her and she glances over her shoulder.

"What is your name, First?"

The woman shakes her head, still smiling. "My name is Merrill and I'm not a First anymore; I just run this clinic now. Who are you?"

"My name is Elissa. I was Anders' commander for a while in Ferelden. I wanted to find out what happened to him." She thinks she should write all of this down on a card and hand it to people as soon as they ask her name. She's said just the same thing a dozen times by now it feels. "Do you know Fenris as well?"

And now there's pain again on Merrill's face. "Oh yes. We were compatriots for many years with Hawke." Again, just Hawke. Did no one call Marian by her first name? "He never really liked me though. I made a deal with a demon and he took exception." When Elissa's eyes widen at the words, Merrill places a hand on her arm. "But not anymore. I gave it up when I was told I'd never be able to heal another while using blood magic."

That's slightly comforting. Not a lot, ya know. But a little.

"Anders was a great man. He truly believed in the things he fought for. Even with his own demon he was always thinking of the best ways to help others, especially mages."

"His own demon?"

There's this strangely awkward moment while Merrill looks her up and down and then glances away. It seems to drag on and Elissa doesn't understand. She thinks it has something to do with Fenris calling Anders an abomination. Did Anders make a deal with a demon to help save the mages? It seems like a backwards way to go about saving people but she can understand how he'd come to such a pass.

Lips set, Merrill looks ack. "He took the spirit of Justice into himself. They merged and became one. I think more often than not it was Justice that motivated his decisions. Especially in the last few years."

The spirit of Justice. Justice. Another name from her past and one she'd not thought of in forever. Justice, in Anders. Merged? Could spirits merge like that? He'd taken the body of a dead man. She supposes that maybe he could have entered a living person. But why? "How? How is that even possible?"

Merrill shrugs one slender shoulder and the movement ripples through her body. "That I don't know. He never said." She sounds wistful when she says this and Elissa actually cocks her head at the elf. She's sort of . . . scatterbrained. "Anders left quite a few manifestos. If you're looking for answers, they're probably there." Merrill gestures to the table with the scattered papers.

The topic change is noted in Elissa's mind but she goes with it for the sake of simplicity. She does vow to ask Marian about this later. Possibly tonight. "You won't mind if I take them?" Merrill shakes her head and Elissa investigates. There's a bulk of information here and she sorts. Some of the papers are dated, some are just ramblings. She finds a book on the floor that's soft red and well used.

She remembers this book, she thinks. She'd given it to Anders after he'd complained that Velanna was the only mage being showered with gifts. She picks it up and brushes her hand over the gilt letters on the cover. She doesn't recognize the script. Opening it reveals the pages are full of the same script as the cover. The only thing she can decipher are numbers. Dates.

This could be Anders' journal. She tucks this one away at the back of her waistband. She should really ask Marian about this too. The rest of the papers are collected and these she holds under arm as she thanks Merrill and inquires if the mage would care to join her for dinner. She'd like to organize an evening with Hawke and her compatriots.

Merrill's face drains of color and Elissa knows she's said something wrong. "What is it? Is Fenris that distasteful?" She can understand not wanting to be around someone who hates her.

"Hawke, actually. She's not seen me for weeks because of the blood magic from the final battle. I told her I'd only used it once or twice but she was so upset from Anders and Meredith that she said she never wanted to see me again." Merrill looks away and Elissa sort of wants to hug her.

"I'm sorry for alarming you. It wasn't my intention. I'd like to thank you for your time and your help." She bows and yet Merrill still doesn't look back at her. There's nothing else for Elissa to do than to turn and head to the exit.

When she crosses over the threshold back into Darktown she finds Fenris leaning against the wall next to the door. "Finished?" His tone is still icy. He stares straight ahead but pushes away from his leaning post when she nods. "Let us return to the barracks, then. I've neglected my duties enough for one day."

-!-