~Contraceptive
"Oh Maker." Valera groaned, her face buried in her hands.
She had been waiting in Anders clinic for just an hour or so. Waiting for the mage to finish up with his latest patient.
A few hours earlier she had woken to find herself snuggled up to a rather handsome broody elf, naked as the day of her birth. Apparently, they had shared one too many drinks the night before. Problem was, Valera hadn't been taking any pregnancy prevention and she didn't need to hear the pitter patter of little feet in nine months time. It would be bad for her and Fenris.
Going to one of the city healers would have caused a scandal. The daughter of Knight-Commander Meredith sleeping around without being wed? Ladies didn't take birth control herbs unless they were married and trying to not have children. Not to mention the herbs themselves were expensive, a reason why Darktown and Lowtown were crawling with children.
Anders had been her only option.
"Val? What are you doing here?" Anders asked wiping his hands clean on a rag as he walked up to her, a curious yet excited glint in his eye. A mage really shouldn't care for a templar as much as he did and vice versa.
"Oh, Anders." Valera rubbed the back of her head anxiously, unable to meet his eyes. "I have a favor to ask."
Maybe he sensed her unease, or just knew her body language, but he waved her over to his desk, away from the crowd of people who liked to hang around the clinic. "Ask away."
Why did this feel so awkward? She was free to have relations with anyone she pleased! She wasn't tied down! Valera grit her teeth and forced herself to ask, "I need an emergency contraceptive. You know? Just in case?"
Anders paused and blinked slowly. "Ah… I see." He coughed lightly before turning toward his closet of herbs. His movements were distinctly jerky, and Val felt bad instantly. This was probably putting him in an as awkward moment for him as it was her.
He pulled some herbs down from the closet and placed them in a mortar before crushing them (rather violently). He pored the powder in a small square of paper before folding it and handing it to her. "Take this in some tea. It should do the job."
"Thanks Anders." Valera replied softly taking the envelope. An accidental brush of fingers was electrifying and Valera pulled away quickly, scared of the contact. The urge to touch the mage had always scared her. Old templar mentality switched into place whenever he was around, and the no-touching rule always affected her the strongest.
"You're welcome." He said, his gaze softening as if he could read her inner conflict.
"Here!" Valera cried shoving a large bag of coins into his chest, releasing it after he had tentative hold on it. Vaguely, she had remember him saying something at the Hanged Man that the clinic was getting low on supplies, so she was sure to throw in enough extra to tide him over for a few days.
"Thank you!" She bowed before turning and running from the clinic, her face flaming hot. How could one man effect her so!? She closed her eyes in denial, arms and legs pumping, carrying her far away.
BREAK
~Banquet Part 1, Dress
"Don't you dare laugh." Valera rightly snarled at the red headed templar.
A small snicker left her companion before he hid it behind a raised hand. "You look lovely."
The Vicount had invited Knight-Commander Meredith to attend the New Years ball at his Hightown Manson. Meredith, not being one for parties had sent her daughter in her stead.
Cullen had been hired as a protection and as templar watch for the very important guest they had arriving at some later hour. So he had been allowed to wear his Templar armor, the silver polished to an exquisite shine, a new red sash at his waist, his sword strapped beneath the shield on his back. He was helmet free for the evening.
Valera on the other hand had been invited as a guest and therefore was not allowed to wear her templar gear. Earlier, she had been forced to sit still for hours while a dresser had done her hair up in an elaborate style. Thick golden curls where pinned a top her head in an elaborate bun, strands framing her face purposely to enhance her high cheekbones and delicate chin. The dresser had drown her face in makeup, a dark shadowy violet to her mismatched eyes, and a deep rouge on her cheeks. Pink painted her pursed lips.
The gown had been the lowest kick. It was cut almost indecently low, with no sleeves, wrapping only around her just above her breasts to hug her midsection and flare out just at below her waist. It was a deep blue, nearly black with small black stones sewn into the very material of the gown. Instead of sleeves, Valera wore silky white gloves up to each forearm. Beneath, a corset held her toned stomach in so tight that there was hardly space to breathe, let alone move. The only consolation she had were the black slipper-like shoes under the gown that were snug but comfortable on her feet.
Valera slapped Cullen on the arm, the gemmed bracelet on her wrist chinking against his armor with a high pitched ting.
"I swear, mother only sends me to these to make me mad!" Valera groaned, snagging a wine glass off a nearby passing waiters tray. She gulped it down with unlady like speed, hiccupping once finished with the bubbly drink. Nearby patrons glanced at her with disapproving eyes and Valera grinned secretly at Cullen.
"Knight-Commander Meredith will be very displeased if you continue to act as such milady." Cullen scolded lightly though Val knew he really didn't mind as much as he pretended. At least she was providing him with some entertainment. "You are here representing her and therefore the Templar Order in association."
"Oh phooey." Val chuffed his arm lightly. "Well then, I guess next time she'd better pick a better representative then. Maybe you instead of me? Besides," Valera lowered her voice and leaned in close to Cullen, "I'm convinced she sends me to these parties in hopes that some man will take interest in me."
Valera was honestly convinced her mother had sent her to this whole thing to try and get her daughter to find a suitable partner. The lady templar was far beyond marriageable age and the Knight-Commander claimed she feared she would never hear the pitter patter of little feet before she went to her grave. Personally, Valera thought her mother just wanted her to have children so she could raise an army of Templar babies to smite mages off the face of the world.
Cullen had been one of the many men her mother had pushed her to marry. Alas, as handsome, well connected and powerful as Cullen was, their history over the last ten years had prevented them from going beyond comrades who occasionally shared the same bed. Sure, if someone asked her if she loved Cullen, she would reply that she did indeed. But that love was more of a friendly love, not a romantic one.
"There are plenty of young men interested in you." Cullen replied, standing straight-backed, his arms crossed casually. "If you'd just throw them a bone, they'd be at your feet."
"No chance!" Valera countered, a fist curling tight, the soft material of the white gloves curling in her palm. She didn't want some submissive man, not to say that she wanted someone who was overwhelming. No, she wanted someone who had enough spine to actually speak their mind, to stand up to her but know when to back down and let her have her way. Only one man had ever been able to do that.
"You need to let him go." Cullen said as if reading her mind. He had always been a psychic at reading her moods and often her thoughts in comparison. "Nothing can become of that, and you know it."
Valera flicked her gaze away from her comrade, a scowl marring her features. Damn his perceptiveness. "I know that! I don't need you of all people to remind me!"
Cullen was in the same situation as her. In love with a mage. Something completely forbidden for people of their station. It didn't stop them from wanting what they knew they couldn't have. They, being the pathetic people they were, used each other for comfort, a temporary reprisal from their pain.
Valera needed more wine. Now.
BREAK
~Banquet Part 2, Proposition
"Oh, I remember you!" King Alistair said, his voice good-natured. Valera found that she couldn't hate the man. He had a way about him that drew her in. His kindness was genuine as was his smile. A rugged gentlemen, with a handsome face and a crown of dark blonde hair. "You were there with us when we went to the Circle!"
"Majesty." Valera curtseyed as much as her corset would allow. "It is good to see you're well."
"No formalities please." King Alistair waved her off, taking her hand to help her rise. "Just call me Alistair. After all, we're comrades, even if it was only for a short while."
Valera smiled at the king, finding it more hilarious when his advisors -who were hovering close- gave him horrified looks. The King led her to a nearby table where he pulled out a chair for her and sat in a matching one next to her own. He leaned back casually, his brown eyes on her. Brown eyes that reminded her of… "Tell me. Did you ever catch that apostate that you were so bent on getting permission to follow?"
A blush stained her cheeks and Valera was thankful that the dresser had put some much rouge on. "I did finally catch up to him in Amaranthine." She fiddled with the small gems in the train of her gown, mismatched eyes peeking between it and the handsome king. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous? That blonde hair, and those brown eyes were watching her so very closely, Alistair's face full of friendliness. "Though, by the time we Templars assisted with the war, I had to take time to heal from the battle. His phylactery had been destroyed in the Circle battle, so I had to track him down on wills alone. By the time I found him I had made it too late. He had been made into a Grey Warden."
A dark blond brow raised and Valera's heart sank. Alistair himself was a Grey Warden, and he may of actually known who Anders was. "Lucky fellow!" Alistair proclaimed, slapping a hand on his plated thigh. His eyes twinkled with a grin on his lips. "I've heard rumors that you are one, if not the best of the Chasers from the Ferelden Circle."
Relief flooded Valera. He hadn't asked the dreaded question of What is his name? Anders had fled the Grey Wardens years ago and everyone knew that one did not flee the Grey Wardens unless they wished for death. If only the King knew that a mutinous warden was just levels below him.
"No your majesty." She continued on with their current discussion. "I actually was only Chaser for that one apostate. He was rather ornery." Valera smiled softly remembering Anders when he had been young and so brash. So handsome and full of yearning. "I was assigned to care for him because I had a knack for capturing him. Knight-Commander Greigor said that we probably thought on a similar wavelength, that's why I never had any trouble tracking him."
"Call me Alistair!" He reminded briefly, "But to do it without a phylactery? How many Templars can claim that?" Alistair praised, "sounds like you are a very skilled woman to me."
"You flatter me." Valera cursed her face for betraying her.
Alistair leaned forward a bit, his plated hands grasped on his knees. "I don't suppose you would allow me to convince you to return to Ferelden?"
Mismatched eyes shot to the King in disbelief. "Your Highness?"
"Alistair! Not to work in the Circle, but as a personal guard to the King?"
"I am but a mere Templar milord." A gloved hand pressed against her chest as Valera tried to calm her fluttering heart. "I have never guarded anything more important then children who can't control their own Maker given powers."
(Please really, call me Alistair! Milord is just as bad as your Highness and all that hogwash!) Alistair smiled gently, and Valera knew he would have wrinkles before he aged, with as often as he wore the expression. "I have seen you in action. You are nearly unmatched with duel blades, a true master. I also hear you have an affinity for rune forging. You would be a very welcomed asset to Denerim and my personal guard. A lovely woman such as you would be able to blend in with crowds such as these with ease. The perfect guard."
Valera sensed an underlying offer that remained unspoken. It was mostly confirmed by the approving nods of his advisors who were listening in to the conversation. "Are… are asking me to be your… consort milord?"
Alistair laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head while shifting his eyes away to stare at the elegant ceiling. "In the innocent type way, not the other way!" He proclaimed as one of his advisors face palmed behind him. "What I meant is that it would be a peace of mind to have someone with your skills, erm… with me… at fancy parties. Like this, where you never know what's going to happen!"
"Excuse me Your Majesty!" Valera stood abruptly, curtsying quickly. "I need some time to think this over." And a drink! A very, very strong one! With that Valera turned and dashed off before even allowing the King a response.
BREAK
~Banquet Part 3, Thoughts
"Oh Maker. What am I going to do?" Valera groaned, thumping her head on the stonewall of the outside of the mansion.
After the King had proposed his proposition to her, she had made a mad dash for the door, grabbing at least four more drinks on her way out. Three empty glasses lay at her feet, the fourth twirling between gloved fingers.
"You can't just say no to a King…" She groaned as she slid down the wall uncaring if it tore at her fancy blue gown or not. She continued a lazy twirl of the glass, the clear bubbly liquid inside distorting her view of the Hightown street.
Being consort to the King was the highest honor she could ever hope to achieve. And rumor had it that the King was still single and looking for a wife to bear an heir. Valera had a feeling that had been another hinted around topic of their much undiscussed conversation.
If she took this job, it would take her far from home, back to the land of her childhood. To Ferelden where she had grown, raised by Greigor, side by side with Cullen, Sanya her twin and the other mages. The land where she had chased Anders for the entirety of her teenage and young adult life.
This job would take her away from her Order to which she had dedicated her life, from Cullen her lover/brother/friend, her mother, away from Anders…
No stop it! You already know that nothing will become of that!
White hot pain seared her heart. It hurt so much to even entertain the thought of losing him again after they had just found each other. Even if they were just acquaintances.
"What should I say?" Valera asked the bubbly in her glass as if it would give her the answers to her problems.
Brown boots stepped in her small window and Valera looked up to see the golden eyes of Garrett Hawke looking down at her. He was fully decked out in his travel gear, Truebow, a elvan crafted weapon, beautifully made, was strung over his large shoulders. His expression was aggressive, as was common of the fortunate man, but the next words out of his mouth caused her burning heart to turn cold.
"I need your help. Anders is in trouble."
BREAK
~Banquet Part 4, Rescue
Anders, it turned out, had finally been found. The Templars had been sniffing around his clinic for a long time and must of finally caught his scent. Valera had done all she could to redirect them away from the clinic, leading them to false trails created by Hawke and his companions. Apparently, they had taken her night off duty to go searching on their own and finally had found the apostate.
Valera left her slippers in the shadows of the mansion as she ran next to Hawke. Barefoot she dashed beside the Hawke, the dress twisting in the tailwind. She paused, Hawke stopping with a wild look in his eyes. Not asking permission, she withdrew the dagger from his belt and sliced into the train of the dress cutting above her knees to give her legs space to move.
Slipping the dagger back in place, an understanding glint in Hawke's eyes surged her forward as they took up the race once again. They sped through Lowtown, two blurs of color, before reaching the elevators that led to Darktown.
Valera jerked the handle so hard she was surprised it didn't snap under strain. She leapt from the top of the moving platform as soon as there was enough room for her to shimmy through the gap between it and the earthy ceiling. She took off in a mad dash towards Anders clinic, Hawke having to wait just a bit longer to fit, following just behind her.
The doors of the clinic were thrown wide open, one torn completely off the hinges. Inside, Valera could see the group of armored men backing Anders against the earthy wall. He was standing strong, his staff held in his hand, the lyrium blue of Justice glowing in his eyes.
Valera didn't pause her step, didn't hesitate as she leaned low to grab a stray beam of wood before cracking it over the closest Templar's skull as hard as she could manage. The combined strength of the woman and the momentum of her run had the templar crashing to the ground, the wood shattering in her hands. The others spun on her, an arrow zipping by her head to bury into the gap between the helmet and breastplate of the nearest man.
Adrenaline sang through Valera's veins, sharpening her senses. Anders/Justice was murmuring, a spell began to flicker on his fingertips, the smell of ozone reaching up her nostrils. The bending creak of a bow alerted her to Hawke's next arrow, that made quick work of another of her comrades, the arrow burying deep in the eyehole of his helmet.
Valera wisely retreated, diving behind an overthrown wooden table as electricity shot from Anders/Justice's fingertips. The smell of burnt flesh and ozone hung heavy in the air as a silence gradually settled over the clinic.
Valera remained in her notch, as Hawke stepped past her and into the room. It was best if the archer settled down Anders and not herself. She was still a templar, despite the fact that she had just assisted in murdering her own men in cold blood. A crime that the Maker would one day punish her for.
Only for Anders. She told herself. Nothing would take him from her unless she willed it.
If the Maker punished her for protecting the man she loved then so be it. She would suffer it.
Feeling it had been enough time, Valera peeked her head around the table. Anders was sitting on the floor of the clinic, his head pressed against the earthy wall. Hazel eyes were closed and he seemed to be focusing on taking deep breaths, meditating it was called Val remembered. A technique they taught mages at a young age to assist in controlling their power.
Hawke stepped past her, saying something about getting Isabella or Avelene to assist in hiding the bodies.
Stepping loudly, as to not scare the apostate, Valera approached the silent Anders.
"They finally found me." He noted, his eyes remaining closed, his wrists resting on upturned knees. A humorless smile crossed his mouth.
"Yeah, but it seems like they won't be able to report back."
"It doesn't matter. They'll find me again. They always do."
Valera winced. That particular barb had been aimed at her and by the Maker it hurt. How she wished she could do it all over again. She would of taken him and run, run as far as their feet would take them. To Tevienter where mages were praised, worshiped. Away from this.
Anywhere where I can see you smile for the rest of our lives.
"Sorry. Hawke must of wrecked your party to get you to come save me." Hazel eyes were open and looking up at the torn dress that had been rather lovely and hour or so ago.
Val picked at the shredded fabric before going and slumping down next to the mage. "No, not really. It was a bunch of stuffed shirts anyway. Well and the King."
The King! Valera groaned and thumped her head on the wall. She had totally forgotten about the King once she had learned of Anders being in danger. He was probably still waiting for her answer to his earlier request.
Valera buried her head between her knees. "I'm so dead."
"I sense something other then the imminent death of your comrades is on your mind?" Anders drawled.
Valera told him of how the King had proposed that she be his consort and return to Ferelden. His face flickered between surprise, disbelief, anger, jealousy, and finally defeat. He seemed to think she was going to accept. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't want to go." Valera admitted, more to herself then him. "Ferelden isn't my home anymore. It's where you are. I have no love for it. Everything there reminds me of you. Plus, the court life doesn't do me justice. I was raised by men. I have no lady like charms in which to woo with."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. You are a very beautiful woman at least." Anders replied leaning just a bit into her side. Valera took it as an invitation as she leaned fully against him, her cheek resting on his shoulder. His own unshaven cheek rested on the crown of her head, his fingers tangled with her own and squeezed. "Regardless, thank you for coming."
"I couldn't just let them have you." Valera admitted basking in the scent that was simply Anders. A masculine blend of earth with a tad of spicy sweat and the faint scent of magic. "Besides, if anyone is going to drag you kicking and screaming into the Gallows, it's going to be me and no one else."
"Is it strange that that statement comforts me?" Anders chuckled, his lips brushing across her golden hair, now falling free of its elegant style. "If something does end up happening and I end up back in the Circle, I know that you'll at least be there to take care of me."
"You better believe it." I won't let them have you. You're my everything and I don't share my dear mage.
~END