It was the middle of the night when they finally pulled themselves out of bed and set out for the dungeons. Anders was shaky and pensive, his stomach roiling with apprehension. The closer it had come to the time that they had decided to leave, the more his anxiety had grown, snaking cold tendrils of fear up his back. He was going to allow his mind to be flooded with visions of things that terrified him, and he wouldn't know that those things were not real. Would he be reduced to a similar sight as the man in the garden, crouching, hallucinating and screaming? What if it completely backfired and served to enrage Justice/Vengeance beyond their normal capacity? What if even the dungeon cells couldn't hold him and Selise came to be harmed? He physically winced more times that he could count, as the vision of Hawke's dead eyes and angled neck repeatedly invaded his consciousness.
He'd been trying to hide his shaking hands from her, trying not to let her see how badly he was coming to dread what they were going to do, but the way she looked at him, lingering eyes wide and filled with an unspoken concern, he knew she could tell. The way she had made a point to touch him constantly in the lead up to their departure, either leaning up against him or resting a warm hand on his arm, giving constant quiet reassurance that she was there with him every moment, both helped and hindered. It was exactly what should have soothed his nerves, except it only made him more grateful to have her, and in turn, more and more afraid to lose her.
"Should we do this another night?" she asked gently as he was putting on his boots.
"No, lets get this done and behind us," he had told her, even though he wanted more than anything to climb back into bed and hold her safely in his arms until the sun came up.
But Selise was strong, Anders told himself. She was powerful and quick on her feet, and her magic would work. Soon enough they would be walking right back out of there, and he would be secure in the knowledge that she would never be in danger from the spirit inside him, something he never believed could even be possible.
He clutched her hand tightly as they made their way through the darkness of the gardens, over the battlements and down into the courtyard. They stuck to the shadows as they approached the door in the stone wall, and Selise opened it as quietly as she could manage, eliciting only a tiny squeak from the ancient hinges. Anders' throat seemed unnaturally dry as they descended the long sets of stairs, his head starting to spin with each step that took them lower and lower. At the base of the stairs she stopped him, and he stood numbly, heart racing as he watched her make her way forward by herself.
Selise peeked her head around a pillar and into the main room, and then waved for Anders to follow. He saw a female guard with her head resting on a table at the rear of the dungeon, and a slight pulse reverberated through the air as Selise released a wave of energy toward the sleeping body, additional Sleep to make sure that the guard wasn't roused by the inevitable noise. They tiptoed deeper within and then both froze as they heard the rasping of a deep, gutteral snore. Anders looked at Selise, both recognizing that there was a prisoner present. In the furthest cell on the left side of the room, Selise propelled another burst of Sleep, then turned to retrieve the keys from the guard's belt. She made her way back across the room, and opened the door of the cell closest to the stairwell.
Finally, she approached, her wide gaze penetrating him, making him feel completely known and transparent. She stood with him in silence for a few heartbeats, letting him ready himself in his own time. They had spent the entire evening since her return from Leliana's office in each other's arms. She had appeared back in his doorway looking wan and defeated, clearly having just received the tongue lashing of her life. And he had helped her put the memory out of her mind, wrecking the sheets of his bed until they only had the energy left to lay there. And lay there they had, for hour after hour, talking and kissing in between fleeting bouts of sleep. He still felt her skin against his, blazing hot in his memory, and yet that still didn't quell the need to touch her again, his hands drawn to the softness of her and moving toward her almost of their own volition.
Touching her always seemed to turn into kissing her, which turned into holding her, and it was no different now. But this time his fear was driving him to drink in as much as he could and with a force that he was struggling to restrain. Just in case, spoke a quiet voice in the back of his mind. Just in case it was his last chance. He'd lost so many things in the blink of an eye over the past several years. He harbored no illusions that the unexpected bliss he had found here with her couldn't disappear just as quickly.
"Are you ready?" he asked her. He intended to erect as strong of a protective and healing barrier around her as he possibly could, draining every ounce of his mana that he could manage into it, hoping to leave nothing left for Justice.
She nodded, and Anders closed his eyes as he reached out to connect to the deep, effervescent pool of mana that streamed in from his umbilical tether to the Veil. He pulled at it, sucking the energy in until it filled every cell in his body. Then he focused further inward, drawing the mana up into his hands and shaping it, weaving rivers of magic into a fabric that drew tighter and tighter together, slowly melding into a solid sheet and then an impenetrable wall. He trained the wall around Selise, and it took great effort to push all of it onto her, cocooning her. His barrier spells always wanted to stay with him. Even when he threw them out to his comrades in the heat of battle, some of the magic always stuck, sliding around him and coating like a patina. It was almost like his protective magic loved him, and resisted being given away.
But this time he pushed it off, scraping it from away him, demanding that nothing be left behind. As the last vestiges of the sticky magic left, he felt the strength of his body seeping out as well, leaving him weak and unsupported, like the bones of his soul were being removed, leaving behind a shapeless, undefined mass.
He staggered, feeling impossibly heavy, feeling the floor at his feet trying to come up to meet his head. But Selise's hands were there at the first sign of need, holding him up and letting him rest on her. He nodded toward the cell and she carried him, step by step into the small space. Three stone walls fronted by metal bars. All that could be seen was whatever was positioned directly forward of the bars, so Selise could step off to the side far enough and be completely out of sight. Anders felt slightly reassured at that. If Justice couldn't see her, chances were better that he also wouldn't be able to harm her.
With each step she helped him take, his body adapted to the loss of his mana. His muscles reestablished dominance and his movements steadied. Finally he turned to lay one last kiss upon her feverishly hot mouth, and she slipped out the door and closed it behind her. Once the bolt was locked and the keys secured to her belt, she slid her arms through the bars and gripped him.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
He felt the pulsations travel from her hands just seconds after he nodded. He waited, looking around at the grime coated stones of the wall, the dull gleam of the metal bars. Selise's face remained the picture of concern, her hands warm and steady on his arm. But the room helds its position. No monsters flooded his vision, none of the items in front of him morphed lysergically into something else, no inexplicable fear filled his body.
He looked at her, looked around the room, blinked and blurred his eyes, waiting.
"Nothing's happening," he said.
She tilted her head, observing him, waiting too. He heard the echo of a distant click and the corner of her lip rose into a smirk. The door at the top of the stairs was opening.
And then slowly, Selise's eyes grew cold.
She removed her hand from his arm and took a step away from the bars. "Oh it has happened," she said calmly, just as Anders began to hear muffled footsteps growing louder. Bodies, several of them at least, were descending the long stone stairs, and Selise seemed neither concerned nor surprised. "It just might not be exactly what I led you to believe."
Anders' heart quickened with a frenzied flutter as the room around him swayed and he thought he felt himself listing to the side. He staggered, trying to catch his balance before he fell, raising a heavy arm out to brace himself on the wall, but his hand didn't connect where he intended it to and his whole body slammed jarringly against the cold stone.
Selise's smirk bloomed into a full smile at the approaching figures, and within moments she was joined by Leliana and Cullen, as well as a small troop of heavily armored soldiers. Her eyes shined especially brightly up at the blonde Templar, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss upon her mouth.
"The Inquisitor might be willing to help you escape consequences for your actions in Kirkwall, but we… are not so inclined," stated Cullen curtly.
Selise removed the keys from her belt and handed them off to Cullen.
"Ellana might not approve, were she to find out, but sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands. Isn't that right, Anders?" asked Leliana as she gave him a cold, hard stare.
"It might come as a surprise to you to know that I considered Grand Cleric Elthina like a second mother," sighed Cullen, feigning a conversational tone, "She was a good woman, and did not deserve the death you gave her."
Anders tried to push himself off the wall, to stand of his own volition, but he felt as though his bones were filled with lead.
"That wasn't a nightmare spell Anders. It was a weakness spell," Selise told him absently, her attention focused adoringly on the towering Templar.
"Why bother even putting me in this cell then?" he gasped. "You could have taken me from my room at any point."
"You would have fought back, and we certainly couldn't drag you through the Great Hall, could we?" asked Cullen. "Not without attracting undue attention. Luckily for us, the Inquisitor has already arranged for your transfer out of Skyhold, so this is where you'll be staying until your escort is prepared, which shouldn't be long."
"And since she will be indisposed with more important matters until then… she will not have time to take notice of a few changes," added Leliana.
The hair on Anders' neck rose to a stand and he felt himself begin to shiver.
Anders watched as two soldiers stepped forward and grabbed Selise from behind, one roughly grabbing each arm. He felt the shockwave of the spell purge ripple out from one of them and the realization dawned on him. Though they weren't wearing the telltale crest, they too were Templars. Selise's eyes widened and she began to kick, "what are you doing? Cullen, what is happening?" she asked frantically, but the men held her fast, barely budging. Cullen glanced back at them and nodded his head toward the staircase. "Take care of her first," he ordered. Every armored body followed the two carrying Selise back toward the stairwell and out of sight. Anders tried again to stand, but only felt even closer to sliding down the wall and ending up on the floor.
"It's a shame about her, isn't it? She was very useful," sighed Cullen.
Selise's screeches echoed through the dungeons, piercing Anders' ears as it receded slowly up the stairs. He closed his eyes, wincing against the cacophanous, heartrending sounds. But the way she had been looking at Cullen... She loved him. Here she was pretending to love Anders, while all along she was doing Cullen's bidding like a loyal, devoted puppy dog. She had lied to Anders, had led him there like a lamb to the slaughter. His chest pounded with a wild, aching panic, with the heavy crush of betrayal. And he felt his spirit passenger stir.
"This cannot stand," Justice said, the voice coming as though it was his own thought.
"What can be done? We have no magic. We are locked in a cage. We are helpless," Anders thought in return.
"We must break the cage."
Anders felt the cold of the spirit inundate his flesh, washing over him like ice water. The reflection of a blue light flickered across the dark eyes of Cullen and Leliana and they took a step back away from the cell.
"If that demon within you is truly the embodiment of Justice, then he should agree with us," called Cullen sternly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "He should want Justice for you just as he might for any other."
As Anders' vision melded with the spirit's and it expanded, opening up to welcome in details of the world that were closed to him alone. He saw the energies that floated through the air in smoky wisps, emanations of the ancient magic contained within Skyhold's walls. Colors gained new dimension and nuance, and Anders was momentarily mesmerized by the millions of pinpricks of varying greys that shimmered over Leliana's hood, at one moment looking brown, and then purple and then white and then back to grey. Ripples in the Veil ebbed and flowed, curling around him in a translucent, flowing curtain. But Justice's anger was rising rapidly, growing into a beast of its own that was crowding Anders out. He didn't even want to fight back, so he didn't. And he felt the unfiltered world around him begin to go dark, a roaring rising in his ears, drowning out the ambient sounds of the room. Anders collapsed down, relieved for a change to be handing over the reins to his body. He was so tired. So very tired.
A loud clang slammed him back into consciousness. He was crumpled into the corner, his limbs aching, his fingers burning. He rolled his body until he found his legs under him, maneuvering them clumsily into a position suitable for trying to push himself upright. But when he pressed his hands to the ground, the pain in his fingers tore a blazing path up his arms and he pulled them back, thrusting them under his eyes to observe that his fingertips and the palms of his hand were nothing more than bloody, pulpy shreds.
He looked around the cell to see blood smeared along the stone walls and metal bars. His own blood. From a point of pain on his forehead streamed a trail of wetness that ran over his lips, coating his mouth with a coppery tang.
Selise was there. Standing silently on the inside of the cell door, her back to him. Anders pressed his forearms against the wall and climbed to an unsteady stand. She would answer for her actions.
"Selise?" he asked angrily, and she slowly turned around, looking at him with an impossibly placid expression.
Anders recoiled in horror when he saw the branded chantry star on her forehead. His legs went weak and he felt himself falling back to the ground, landing hard on an uneven piece of the rocky floor.
"You require a healer," she stated, her clinical eyes running from his hands to his forehead."You should see one before your ritual."
"Are they… are they coming back soon?" Anders asked, his voice ragged and hoarse, aching from what he realized must have been a long period of overuse. Vengeance had apparently pushed Anders' voice to its limits as he'd tried to claw his way out of the cell.
"They are preparing the site for you now, and should be returning momentarily."
Anders shuddered at the monotone voice, the lack of urgency with which she spoke. He felt down into his mana and discovered a small pool available, expanding slowly, drip by drip. He cast his healing spell over his fingers, and some of the flesh knitted itself back together, but after his magic was spent again many deep gashes and missing patches of flesh remained. He looked back up at her, feeling a sorrowful blade pierce through his chest. In just the past several days, he had already begun to love her.
"Why?" he rasped.
"To what are you referring?" she asked him calmly.
"Why did you do this to me?" He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and he let them come, realizing with fear that it might be the last time he ever cried.
"Don't be afraid. It is all for your benefit."
"My benefit!?" he spat derisively. Anger flared, mixed with adrenaline and began to course through him, giving him the push to get back onto his feet. He took a fervid step toward her, feeling an uneasy sensation of deja vu as the blankness in her eyes mirrored that of an old memory. Karl. Karl had stood giving him the same disinterested and lifeless look all the while Anders' heart was shattering. Two people he cared for, deeply, passionately, and he had to look into their barren, Tranquil eyes.
But Karl had also regained his full mind for a short period of time after Justice had appeared to slaughter all the Templars, he recalled.
Anders roused his spirit passenger again. Justice had no interest in complying, having already spent himself completely in that chunk of missing time, but Anders summoned the will to give Justice a sharp push.
And then he felt it, the coldness flooding him, the light breaking through, his vision widening. This time Anders retained control, strumming the fine line between oblivion and rage, letting the anger simmer, but not boil over. He advanced toward her but she stood unflinchingly, showing no fear as he stopped just inches away from her face. And he waited. It was the proximity to a Fade connected spirit that temporarily provided a link back to their former self. All he needed to do was be close, and let the Fade find her again.
Through the elucidating filter of the spirit he studied her face, which looked so different, yet still retained so much that he had come to know. Her silvery eyes were an utter paradox, shining reflectively, almost as though lit from the inside, yet somehow also missing that distinctive spark that made them truly come alive. Her lips were pink and plump, and had lost none of their allure despite the deadening of her expression. Vast networks of blood vessels spread like cobwebs under her skin, pulsing with life, the blood streaming in countless shades of blue, red and purple. At first the Veil hung limp and thick around her, but he saw it begin to twist and stretch, pulling thin in some places while bulging out in others. It was only a matter of time before she would be reconnected.
His eyes fell upon hers again and he continued to seethe quietly, feeling his own pulse like ice water in his veins as it raced through him, imbued with the essence of Justice.
Then he saw it, the life creeping back into her face. A flash in her eyes, a slight purse of her lips, a twitch of her brow. And then the flatness of her gaze was replaced with anguish and consternation.
"Tell me why Selise," he demanded, his voice layered with the rumbling tones of his spirit passenger.
She drew her brows together, searching his face.
"What?" she asked him. "Tell you what?"
"Tell me why you would do their dirty work? Lure them victims and provide the means for torture?"
"No, no, Anders, wake up," she called.
He blinked and couldn't find the chantry star brand on her anymore.
"You still do your father's work," Anders spat venomously.
Selise flinched, her eyes radiating a searing pain. Anders felt a slight twinge of regret, which he immediately stamped out. She deserved to hear it. Any moment now Cullen and Leliana would return to take him to be made Tranquil and he would never feel anger course through him again. He would never have the means to say the things he felt.
She stepped off to her right and pulled a ring of keys off her belt, sliding one into the cell door. With two steps she was just inches away from him again. He felt a warm hand cup his cheek.
"Anders, you're still dreaming. It's time to wake up," she whispered. He realized with confusion that he couldn't feel the pain in his hands anymore. The coppery tang was gone from him mouth, and his face was no longer wet.
Selise pressed her lips against his, and he felt the ice in his blood melt. For a moment he gave in and kissed her back, the kisses calling up sensations that raced over his skin with an acute familiarity. No, he reminded himself sternly. She is Tranquil now, she will be deadened once more as soon as Justice is gone. He felt the animosity flare up in him again at her betrayal but struggled to hold on to it under her tender caresses.
He pulled back, eying her suspiciously. Where had the chantry star gone?. He felt Justice sinking deeper back under his surface, hiding down in the depths of him, somewhere dark and unreachable.
Anders cast his eyes around. There was no more blood on the walls. He pulled his hands to his face to see his flesh intact and whole.
"Leliana and Cullen should be coming back any minute," he said. "You said so yourself."
"What? No, Anders," she said as she rushed into him again, sliding one hand on his chest and the other around his waist.
"Anders, wake up. It worked."
He ached to hold her in return, but his mind was not releasing the image of the smirk that preceded that devastating little smile. The way she had looked up at Cullen as she handed him the keys to his cell.
"Anders, it worked!"
He watched her numbly as she replaced the keys on the belt of the sleeping guard, and then took his hand, leading him quietly up stair after stair. He sleepwalked through the courtyard, through another staircase and then another, and down into the darkness of the lower floors. They had no lantern, but needed none now, knowing the walk to their rooms instinctively.
He paused outside his door, still failing at blinking away the images in his mind.
"I'll see you in the morning," he said as he retreated into his room and closed the door quickly behind him, leaving her on the other side.
He lingered there for a moment, his breath coming in shaky gasps. He kept expecting his throat to continue to hurt when he took a breath or spoke, the way it had back in the cell, but he felt nothing now. He had felt exactly as though Vengeance had spent hours screaming, wrecking his throat… and now? Just nothing?
That wasn't a dream. No dream he had ever known had felt so real, or had gotten every tiny detail of the experience of his waking life correct.
He collapsed into the bed, squeezing his eyes shut until he saw greenish blue dots floating around behind his lids. He was about to jump back out of bed and light a lantern, give him other things to see rather than replays of the past couple hours. If he could look upon the sky, or a book, or light a fire, maybe that would push the other images out.
One thing was completely certain now. It was time to retrieve The Book of Secrets from the Seeker and leave this place.
But before he could rouse himself, he felt a small pulse of energy penetrate through the shared wall. And as it hit him it drove him down hard into a blessedly dreamless sleep.