Tintreasch is just the Irish word for lightning ( I told my mom I'd put those classes to use someday!). I just figured, hey, if I could shoot lightning at people, and spent time with others who could, odds are we'd find ways to incorporate it into gambling. The game is basically drinking-blackjack.

I always write absurdly long chapters and end up splitting them in two, which is why I usually post two chapters close together.

Love for everyone who adds me to their favorite and watch lists, and especially my reviewers! You all get happy dances.

Swinging by the kitchen to get a dish of cream for the kitten, I headed upstairs. Anders didn't answer his door when I knocked, so I left the saucer on the floor, pushed against the wall that separated our doors. Hopefully no one would step on it. Turning back to my room, I grabbed a copy of Orlesian legends off the shelf and curled up on my bed to read.

I was lying on my bed reading when I heard a door open outside, followed by a stream of curses. Someone knocked on my door a moment later.

"Come in," I shouted, adding "unless you're here to kill me. If you are, go away." The door opened and a moment later Anders peeked into my room.

"Do your assassins usually knock?"

"No, but I always hope someone will start hiring ones with manners." He smiled and walked in, feet bare.

"I should kill you, I just drenched my socks with cream. But then, you fed Ser Pounce-A-Lot, so I can't get too mad. I really came here to see if you would be interested in a game of Tintreasch?"

"Senior Apprentice Rules?" I asked, with a grin.

"Is there any other way to play?"

"Oh, there is," I said laughing. "Found that out the first time I played with non-mages. They were so mad." I remembered Zevran looking at me like I had lost my mind, and Leliana jumping away from the table, declaring she would never play cards with a mage again. I just assumed normal people smacked each other for penalties or something. Not that they drank.

"I didn't even know other people played Tintreasch, I thought it was a mage-only game. How do they handle it when they go over 21?"

"They drink a shot."

"So they reward it then? Well that makes no sense."

"No, but it is fun."

He stood for a second, thinking, and a smile crossed his face. "I propose a rule change."

"oh?"

"Warden Mage Rules. Be right back." He bolted from the room. I had a strong suspicion of what Warden Mage Rules implied, and dug out my card deck, as well as a couple shot glasses I'd stashed in my desk. I also found a few minor health poultices, to be safe.

Anders returned, a bottle of whiskey in hand. "Let's play by the fire, I'm freezing."

I grabbed a couple blankets from my bedroom and shoved the chairs out of the way, sitting on the floor. Anders looked at me when I did this, but I shrugged. "If I drink that it's only a matter of time before I fall down. And if I fall down, I don't want to fall very far. Here, take a blanket." He wrapped himself up, settling happily by the blaze.

"You named him Ser Pounce-A-Lot?" I asked.

"Yes! That's a perfect name for a cat. He just finished his cream, and he's sleeping on my bed right now." His face lit up as he told me about the kitten.

I sat on the other blanket and shuffled, passing the cards to Anders once I was done. He dealt quickly, putting the pile between us as we examined our hands. I drew a card, giving me 20. "I'll stand." Anders selected a card and groaned, he set it down revealing a hand of 23. I shouted "Ha!" He held his arm out, turning his face away dramatically. Magical energy crackled from my fingertips, landing on the back of his hand. He winced, and poured himself a shot.

We each discarded our hands and drew new cards. I looked over my cards, Anders was studying his as though he could make the values change in his hand through force of will alone. Drawing again, I smiled. "ahem. Tintreasch! I got 21!"

"You are a horrible person, Commander."

This bolt of energy was twice as powerful as the last one. "Everyone I've met with the title Commander is a grizzled old man with a beard. I might not know my birthday but I know I'm not old. And if I ever grow a beard I'm running to the Deep Roads, Calling or not. That's just scary."

"Ow." He tossed back another drink. "Fine, 'you are a horrible person, Maggie.' Better?"

I rolled my eyes and drew for the next round, sneaking a glance of the fire reflecting off the stubble on his cheek. He won the next two rounds, and I began to wonder why every apprentice in the tower loved this game. Half an hour later the wisdom of Anders' modified rules set in, as I noticed my hand wasn't hurting anymore.

"Soooo," he said, drawing cards, "this Antivan elf assassin thing Oghren can't let go."

"What about it," I asked, checking my hand. I was slightly ahead in the game, so I tried to deflect the question. Why did I tell him I'd share the story later?

"Exactly! What about it! He keeps talking and I have no idea what he's going on about. I'm curious." I overdrew and sighed, extending my hand. The blast came, and I took a shot.

"Maker! That stuff burns."

"Trying to change the subject? Clever, but not enough! You know all about me, it's only fair."

We drew our cards. "I don't know all about you," I protested. He displayed a 20 to my 19, laughing. I held out my hand but he missed, hitting my knee. "Hey!"

"Sorry. Drink your drink. You can ask me all about me after then. Your story first."

I did as he suggested, missing the deck when I went to draw, but managing on the second attempt. "You and stories."

"I like stories," he grinned.

"Fine. You ever hear of the Antivan Crows?"

He set his cards down. "The famous assassins?" I nodded, waiting for the penalty blast.

Tossing back another drink I winced. "Well, Loghain hired one to kill me. And he tried, but we won."

"It would be a lousy story if you didn't" he said, drawing cards.

"Or a very short one. Scary, though, if I was dead and telling stories. Like one of those creepy Orleasan songs about scorned maidens. I had a friend who loved those." I won, but it was my turn to miss his hand, leaving a small singed spot on the carpet instead.

"That counts!" he said before throwing back another drink.

"I hope I don't get in trouble," I said, looking at the burn.

"You're the one in charge," Anders reminded me.

I giggled. "That's right! I forgot. Putting me in charge… Maker, what were they thinking." He pulled a face and we continued to play.

"So," I went on. "Tried to kill me. Failed. Epic fail, as the dwarves say." He nodded, winning a round. I rubbed my hand and continued. "But, he didn't die. So I thought, hey, ask some questions, maybe find out useful info." I laughed. "But, he goes and tells me about how they find Crows, buying children and torturing them into super-killers and I'm all 'oh, you poor thing,' since I'm an ass like that." Anders laughed at this, but was cut short when I won the round. "Yeah, and he says 'I don't want to be a Crow, take me with you' and made a decent case for it, so we did."

"You're making that up," he said, recovering from my win.

"Nope. So he and I, we talk. And we get along pretty good. You know, growing up a slave, growing up in a cage, lots in common." Anders nodded, grabbing my arm when I didn't offer it after he won a round. "Ow," I protested. "so we talk, and he has a very, um, Circle-like attitude towards. Um. Stuff." I blushed and Anders laughed.

"Maggie, you harlot!"

"Hey, shut up mr. 'oh, you don't know the story behind the robes,'" I replied, trying to imitate his voice. "Anyways. There's that, but I'm an ass, like I said, and I start to…" I shrug.

"Care?"

"yeaaah, let's go with that. In the circle, well, you know how it is. Tons of people everywhere, you move on." He nodded, understanding. "Spending all your time with the same person, it's different. But, we end the blight and everything's just great, we killed the archdemon, live in the palace, he's happy, I'm happy, hurrah. And then like six months ago, seven? Something like that, I wake up and he's not there. And all his stuff is just gone." I take another drink then, even though we've been largely ignoring the card game. "leaves this sodding note, says 'sorry, amora, about time I got back to antiva. All the best, zev' sodding all the sodding best. Seriously. So much for 'With you I would storm the gates of the black city itself.' Jerk."

"Sorry," he said, refilling both of our glasses. "I thought it would be a funny story." I drew new cards, nudging him to continue the game.

"Kinda funny, though," I said after finishing my drink. "great big hero of Ferelden warden commander is really just another stupid girl."

"Noooo. No no no." Anders drawled, drawing a card while giving me a strange look. "You're not stupid. He's stupid. Total fool. If he ever shows his face here I'll hit him with lightning." He nodded forcefully as I pulled one more card. Examining our hands Anders sighed. "OK, maybe you're a little stupid. You never draw a card at 19." I waited for the blast, but it never came. Instead there was a crash behind me, and I looked, laughing. He had missed, and knocked over a stand holding my collection of staves. "oops," he said. We both roared with laughter.

"So he told you," Anders was trying not to giggle, and for the most part succeeding, "he would storm the black city with you?" I nodded. "Maggie, come on, I've delivered some good lines in my day. Amazing lines. Brilliant ones. Lines that would weaken the Empress of Orlais herself." I made a face at him, but he went on. "Trust me, that is a very, very good line."

I waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Now I know. Andraste's tits, we were spitting distance from the archdemon. At the time it sounded…" I sat up straight, looking around. "Do you smell something?"

"Is it the dwarf?" Anders replied.

"No…" I looked around and gasped, pointing. "FIRE!" The corner of his blanket had gotten too close to the fireplace, and was now starting to burn. I shrieked as he tried to cast a frost spell to douse it, only managing to cast lightning instead. Concentrating as hard as I could, I reached inside my mind and summoned water and ice. My ears popped as the spell rushed through me.

"What's going on!" a voice screamed from behind us. Anders' eyes widened and he started to laugh. I turned around to see Oghren, dressed only in his smallclothes, carrying a battleaxe. "We under attack?!"

"Uh, we set the blanket on fire. Just a little. By mistake!" I explained, trying to keep a straight face, and failing.

"Well it looks fine now," Oghren replied, eyes narrowed. I looked over. The blanket, fireplace, rug, and both of us were covered in ice. "Just what we need. You and skirt-boy getting sloshed." He stormed back to his room, muttering. I could hear someone else talking in the hall, but only Oghren's reply was clear. "Drunk sparkle-fingers!"

"Did- did he just yell at us for drinking?" Anders asked slowly.

I nodded. "That's scary. We should call it a night. Before we burn the Keep down."

Anders slowly climbed to his feet, offering me a hand once he was up. "You're covered in ice," he said.

"So are you."

He brushed ice off his hair, letting it fall to the carpet, before reaching over and doing the same to me. I looked up at him, his eyes were warm, cheeks flushed from drinking. "I should get to bed. All that walking tomorrow." He didn't move, though, his hand on my hair, brushing it from my face.

"Goodnight, Anders," I forced myself to say.

He grinned. "Goodnight, Maggie." I shut the door behind him and made my way to bed.