I finally decided where I'll go with this as far as the post-game happenings, so I may speed it up a bit just to get there sooner. Plus, I hate writing combat scenes. ;) We all know the combat, it's what happens between the fighting that makes me curious! I'm finally on spring break, so I may post more than usual, if you can imagine that!
Long chapter, but I knew exactly where I wanted it to end, and there wasn't enough for two short chapters.
As always, love to my reviewers and people who fave me!
When we finally reached Amaranthine I gave Sigrun two sovereigns and sent her to buy what she needed. Nathaniel went with her, explaining he knew where they could find everything she would need. Her eyes nearly fell out seeing that much money at once. I could understand exactly how she felt.
While they were shopping I wandered up to the chantry, Oghren, Justice and Anders in tow, to see if the board had anything good. Justice was attracting a few looks, but most turned away when they saw the griffin on his shield. Hopefully they would assume his appearance was the result of an injury at the hands of darkspawn. Not that most people would jump to the "reanimated corpse" explanation first thing.
"Wynne?" I call, seeing a familiar grey-haired figure near the door of Chantry of our Lady Redeemer.
"Margaret," came the reply. Wynne always used my full name. Why she didn't stop to visit, or ask to stay with me instead of at the Chantry, I wondered. Not that I should be surprised. We worked together on the blight, but were never what I could call close. She offered me advice on everything from duty to my love life, most of it unwanted. I often wondered if she would have objected so strenuously had I taken up with Alistair instead of Zevran, not that either of us ever considered such a thing. I think, if I had, she would have yelled at me for corrupting the Chantry boy instead of asking why I would debase myself and my order with a lecherous assassin. I suspect, though, that the primary reason was she had never completely forgiven me for cheating in her class.
"What brings you to Amaranthine?"
"Yeah, woman, why didn't you come see old Oghren first thing? I'd think you would be craving the taste of my special homebrew again after all this time." the dwarf boomed. I fought the urge to giggle at Wynne's blush. Anders seemed shocked speechless at this, glancing from the aloof mage to the boisterous dwarf. Maybe later I'd explain his special homebrew was quite literally just that: admittedly one of the finest ales I'd ever had. Maybe.
"I was going to visit you at Vigil's Keep, but things got busy. The College of Magi is convening." I waited for her to continue. That could be either good or bad, but it certainly wasn't normal. The college encompassed every senior mage in all of Thedas, they usually went decades without a meeting. The Chantry hated having that much power gathered in a single place. Wynne was hesitant to give me more information, but I pressed her. Anything that impacted the Circle could, indirectly, impact me, and the Wardens, after all.
Fraternity issues, it seemed. Mages, even as trapped as we were, insisted on forever subdividing ourselves. I was as guilty as the rest of them, though. I'd all but stopped talking to an apprentice from my entropy class when I found out she was a staunch Loyalist, happily living under the Chantry yoke. Each fraternity was centered on what we would want to do, if we could do anything involving leaving the tower. I was a Libertarian, personally- the fraternity that favored separating from the Chantry. I could see wisdom in the Isolationist viewpoint, though. Some people would always fear mages, I suspect if I didn't have a purpose that required being around people I'd sneak off to a farm or island in the middle of nowhere, too. "The Libertarians wish to pull away entirely from the Chantry," Wynne began, her voice ominous. "And if they get enough support…"
"About time!" I exclaimed. "Wynne, you know I've always been on the side of the Libertarians."
"That's madness!" Anders said just as forcefully. "I hate Chantry oversight as much as the next mage. Well, more. But they can't just pull away entirely. This is a recipe for disaster!"
"I still think it's about time mages freed ourselves," I said. "And King Alistair will support the decision."
"You have seen oppression and are now free," Justice added. "You must act to free those who remain oppressed. I believe you have a responsibility to your fellow mages." Wynne glanced at him and recoiled slightly. I hastily introduced them. She, of all people, would understand the good spirits of the Fade. I had to admit, it was rather comforting that the personification of Justice itself agreed with me.
"How do you think the Chantry would react, Maggie?" Anders made a point, unfortunately. If the mages decided this among themselves the Chantry would all but call an Exalted March on the Circle. And if Alistair lost the Chantry support his reign would find itself in a much more difficult position. I had to grudgingly agree with him. Unfortunately, the Chantry would never relinquish power willingly, either.
Wynne hinted that a mage doing research in the woods would be a valuable asset to the meeting. I agreed to find her since we would be heading that way soon enough. She wandered off and I spared a brief glance at the Chanter's board. "Well, this is disturbing," I muttered.
"What is?" Anders crowded next to me, reading over my shoulder.
"Templars are looking for help- they want someone experienced in dealing with powerful mages." I pulled the quest from the board.
"Wait, you're going to help them?"
I gesture for him to follow me, until we were beyond the Chanter's hearing. "Have we met? Of course I'm not helping them! Maker's breath…" I shoved the paper in my pack. "Anders, they're probably looking for us, with my luck. We did kill three templars the last time we were in town." I paused, briefly. "Not to mention the ones you took out last month. We'll need to be careful or the Chantry may come out against the Wardens at this rate. I'm just taking it so no one else does. Until they realize it's gone, at least." He looked relived at this, not that I could blame him.
Justice expressed an interest in seeing Kristoff's old room at the inn, so Anders volunteered to take him while I met with the spy. They were deep in a conversation about if Anders and I had an obligation to 'strike a blow at our oppressors,' as Justice put it. Anders came down on the side of not wanting to be killed by the Chantry. I thought that, while Justice did have a point, I couldn't put the Wardens at risk to do much about it. We were still riding high on post-blight good will, but people would forget. In a few years they would wonder why we still existed, forgetting that the blights would always return. I suspected pitting the Chantry directly against us as well would make the Commander Dryden's uprising and the 200 year banishment look like child's play.
I found the spy easily enough. It took handing over almost half of our current treasury to find out why assassins were stalking us. He promised answers the next day, which also meant paying for rooms at the inn. Hopefully this would be worth it.
On our way to the inn my eye was caught by something at a merchant's stall. I dipped into my own private funds for the purchase. I wanted to kick myself while I was buying it, but grinned the whole time.
"Maggie," Oghren said.
"Oghren."
"Why did you just shell out fifty silvers for a scarf and men's bracers?"
Because I'm an idiot? I thought."It's not for me."
"I'd figured that out, woman!"
"It's for Anders- tomorrow is his birthday."
"Figures," Oghren said, looking at me. "Sodding Ancestors Mags, will you just give the man a roll already!" I sputtered. I'm getting relationship advice from the man whose wife left him to hunt down a magic anvil, while also managing to take a female lover and go completely insane? Has my life been reduced to that?
"What?!"
"You heard me. This ain't the sodding army, no one cares about rank." He paused, scratching his beard. "Besides, it's not like we have to worry about you and skirt-boy filling the Keep with the pitter-pat of little mage baby feet." He shuddered at the thought. I almost did, too, at that. I could just see myself charging into battle against the darkspawn, heavy with child, toppling over belly first from the loss of balance. Now that would get their attention!
I was just placing my items in my pack when Nathaniel and Sigrun bounded over. He looked… cheerful? I guess the dwarf was a good influence on him. I wondered if he would get a sore neck from the way he kept sneaking glances down at her and jerking his head back up before he thought anyone could notice. She was disturbingly perky for someone who jumped from one order that swore to die by violence at the hands of darkspawn to another with basically the same code. Particularly since it took a bit of persuasion since our order didn't require that death be as soon as possible.
"Got everything?"
"And then some!" she announced, before handing me a fistful of silvers as change.
"I had to convince her we could spare the money," Nathaniel said. "She wanted to try stealing everything." Nathaniel looked almost proud.
"Oh Maker, don't do that. We're supposed to be in charge here. Stealing would not help our reputation. And where else would we shop?"
She giggled. "Old habits die hard. What did you get?"
"Birthday present for skirt-boy," Oghren replied.
"Told you there was something going on," Sigrun said to Nathaniel while I felt my face heat up. I reminded myself that rogues thrived on gossip as much as they did on lockpicks. It didn't help.
The Dark Wolf was as good as his word. We didn't have a name, but we had an address. Nathaniel promised it would be on our way home, maybe even reachable by nightfall, so we headed out.
"Grey Wardens do a lot of walking," Sigrun commented.
"I wanted horses but they told me it was too expensive." I sighed. At least I was now walking back and forth across a very small section of Ferelden, an improvement over the times I had to walk the whole of Ferelden.
I could see the house in the distance. There were horses tied outside. Lucky noble bastards, I thought, glancing at my worn boots. An idea occurred to me. "Hey, when we're killing these people, let's try to not hurt the horses." Nathaniel laughed, of all things.
Unsurprisingly, none of these nobles seemed to know 'the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end,' as Zevran would have said. For as much of an annoyance as this conspiracy was proving, defeating it seemed shockingly easy. "Would it be morbid to just stay in the house tonight instead of camping," I mused as we rifled through their pockets. I was up almost twenty sovereigns, and a few incriminating bits of paper pointing us at the source of the conspiracy. The next meeting with the nobles would be interesting.
"Morbid? I'd say it would be appropriate," Anders laughed. That was how we ended up camped out in the living room, wrapped in blankets on the floor by the fire while the kitten climbed across our laps, darting from one of us to the other. Everyone else had gone to sleep already, claiming the bedrooms. Since this ethically questionable campsite was my idea, and he agreed, somehow they decided we got the living room floor. So much for being commanding officer. The idea that it was some kind of joke on the part of the others to get us in the same room didn't skip my mind, either. As though anything would happen on a floor with everyone ten feet away¸ I had thought as we laid out our bedrolls.
"Killing nobles on your birthday," I said. "Hope you enjoyed it."
Anders laughed at that. "How did you know it was just what I wanted?"
"Sorry it couldn't be templars, that's tough to arrange on short notice." At this we both roared with laughter, until a pounding on the wall bought us back to reality.
"Sodding nug-humpers, will you shut up?"
I had calmed down, until Anders leaned over and whispered "What in Thedas is a nug? Is it dirty? It sounds dirty!" I grabbed a pillow to muffle my laughter, tears welling in my eyes. We had been up for hours talking and gossiping, and were both just tired enough for everything to sound funny.
When I could finally breathe again I spoke slowly, so I wouldn't start giggling more. "A nug is something they eat in Orzammar. A friend of mine described them as 'subterranean bunny-pigs.' They're actually pretty good." I smoothed down my skirt over my knees. It had managed to work its way up my legs while I was doubled over cackling. I was still in my robes, changing into a nightshirt seemed indecent given the close accommodations. Anders had either thought the same or followed my lead. Although, for all I knew, he slept in his robes on a regular basis.
"Huh." Anders thought about it for a moment. "I can see how that would work as an insult, then." He yawned. "I've never been to Orzammar."
"It's interesting. Very pretty, in a harsh way. The caste system is brutal. Once things are settled here I'll have to go there to find some recruits. King Behlin likes us, I bet he'll put on a tournament and offer rooms in the palace."
"You know the king of Orzammar?"
I laughed. "Who do you think got him the throne? You can come with me when I go, if you want. A lot of the dwarves are fascinated by mages, a couple mage Wardens would certainly get some attention." Anders' face brightened at this prospect. I leaned over and dug through my pack, the mention of Orzammar reminding me of my shopping trip with Oghren. "Turn your head," I told him. After a moment he did. "All right," I said, and he spun back to face me as I shoved the bracers towards him, wrapped in the scarf.
He took the bundle and looked at me strangely.
"I'm sorry, I know it should be wrapped, and in a box. Alistair explained that to me. The store didn't have any boxes, though." He was still looking at me. I'd forgotten something. Trying to remember the party we had for Leliana it hit me. "Happy birthday!" Maker, why is he still looking at me like that? What did I do wrong? "Anders? Aren't you going to look?" If he didn't say something soon I worried I'd start babbling. I wondered if I should have given it to him over dinner, with everyone else around. The idea had occurred to me, but I didn't want to make anyone else feel bad for not having a gift. You are a dirty, dirty liar Maggie, I thought even as I justified it to myself.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, shaking his head. "It's been almost twenty years since someone remembered my birthday. You caught me by surprise."
"About time," I replied, curling up on my bedroll to watch him examine the gift.
"Well done," he agreed. I watched him unravel the scarf, examining it for a moment before realizing what it was. He grinned and put it on before moving to look at the bracers. "Maker's breath," Anders muttered, tracing the engraved eagles with a fingertip. "For me?" I nodded. My eyes were painfully heavy, but I fought to stay awake a little while longer. "I don't know what to say," he finished. "Thank you."
"You? Speechless? The rarity of that is thanks enough!" I had to grin. If I wasn't so tired I might have added a little cheer as well. He cast me a glance before climbing into his own bedroll. It was much closer to mine than I'd remembered it being.
He smiled, finally, and reached for my hand. "Thank you," Anders whispered again, kissing my palm softly. He pulled his blankets up, getting comfortable, but not relinquishing his hold on my hand.
He was almost close enough for me to feel his breath. Chills went down my spine as his thumb traced out the lines of my palm, but I was too tired to think about it enough to remember I should object. I snuggled deeper into the blankets, feeling my eyes start to droop. Just before I was completely asleep I could hear Anders muttering. "Hey, isn't that my blanket?"
"How sweet." My eyes snapped open, meeting a pair of hazel ones that looked as confused as I felt. At some point in the night we'd moved closer together without unlinking our hands. Ser Pounce-a-lot was splayed out across both our legs, purring with contentment. I turned my head to see Oghren standing at our feet. "I think I'm gonna vomit," Oghren concluded, walking off.
The kitten made a noise of disapproval as I sat up, pulling my hand free. "So much for being the responsible leader," I muttered.
"Maker's breath, will you sodding come off that already?" Anders snapped from next to me. I looked at him. He had rolled to his back and was staring at me with annoyance. "You wear that damned Commander title like it's a pair of manacles. No. One. Cares." I sighed and tied my hair back once more. He was right, of course. No one cared besides me. The guards and troops might raise an eyebrow, but after the looks I got at all the celebratory events in Denerim with a foreigner, and an elf, on my arm I don't know why I would let that stop me. As for the nobles, well, why did I suddenly care what they thought of me?
Because it's easier to blame duty than admit you're worried about getting hurt again, my mind provided quickly. And I knew that was true as well.
An arm snaked around my back, pulling me, and I didn't resist. "I'm not him," Anders said, more quietly than before. "I'm not going to sneak out in the middle of the night." But then, Zevran hadn't intended to sneak away either, not from the beginning. Another arm wrapped around me and I leaned into his chest.
"What do you want from me, Anders?" I finally said.
"I want you to stop waiting for someone to give you permission to be alive." He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Lips crushed against mine and I gasped for a moment before I felt myself responding. My arms circled his back, a hand winding through Anders' long blond hair. Stubble scratched against my face as our tongues danced, hot and wet. The dark crackle of magic began to fill the air around us, prickling at my skin. I bit down on his lip and found myself rewarded with a groan and a tightening of the arms around me, but it was cut short by pounding on the door. We separated with a mutual sigh.
"Move your arses, sparkle-fingers!" shouted Oghren.
"Are you going to take that from him?" Anders laughed, helping me to my feet. "I thought you were supposed to be the Commander!"
"One kiss and you're already telling me how to do my job?" I replied with an elbow to his chest. "See, this is exactly what I was worried about."