Thank you once again to my dear friend Jen for her excellent Beta-reading skills! xx
o~~~~~~~~~o
Leliana, Reaper and the Wardens headed back toward the Chantry to collect their reward after relieving Lothering of its bandit problem. The sun had begun to set, and Blythe was beginning to grow concerned as to Morrigan's whereabouts.
"I know you two don't like her," she said to Alistair and Allis, "and I can't say she's a favourite of mine, either. But something may have happened to her."
"I'm more concerned that her mother will come after us for losing her," quipped Alistair.
Allis stopped for a moment, looking pensive. "Am I the only one amongst us to think that Flemeth finding us in that Tower was a little convenient?" he pondered. "I mean, how did she know where to find us? She arrived just in the nick of time, and apparently single-handedly defeated all of the darkspawn that overwhelmed us? Isn't that a little suspicious?"
"You know, you're right," replied Alistair. "At the time, I wasn't thinking straight, because of…you know…Duncan. That didn't even occur to me."
"So we're thinking she has some ulterior motive for accompanying us?" asked Blythe as the men nodded. "But what could she possibly want from us? And don't you think she'd be nicer to us if that were the case?"
"It could have been Flemeth's doing, you know," replied Alistair. "She was very keen for Morrigan to come with us, and from the way Morrigan's been acting, she obviously wasn't too happy about it."
Allis shrugged. "Well, if she has run off, good riddance to her. I can't say I'll miss her."
"Me neither," Alistair concurred.
"Although I do not know Morrigan," said Leliana, "I fear for her safety. It grows dark, and she is a lone female."
"Oh, Morrigan can look after herself, don't you worry," replied Blythe with a wry grin.
"So it would seem," groaned Alistair, pointing ahead.
Morrigan walked toward them, preceded by a man wearing battered chainmail armour and a cowl, holding his hands aloft in surrender. She prodded him with her staff as they walked.
"Morrigan?" asked Blythe as she approached. "Are you alright? Who's that?"
"This man," replied Morrigan, "has been following all of you since we entered the village. I spotted him not long after we arrived and decided to follow him in turn. He will not give his name or the reason for his pursuit. I thought perhaps the Templar might get some answers out of him. He is a mage."
Blythe walked over to the stranger and pulled down his hood. A wave of nausea and fury swept through her body as she stared, open-mouthed, at him.
Allis broke into a run as Blythe's hands closed around the stranger's throat.
"You bastard!" she yelled as she squeezed with all of her strength. The stranger's hands went instinctively to hers as he tried to pry her off.
"Stop it!" cried Allis as he tried to pull them apart. "Alistair, help me!"
Alistair ran over and grabbed Blythe's hands as firmly but gently as he could, successfully separating them.
"We're trying to keep a low profile, remember?" said Allis to Blythe, before turning to the stranger. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Jowan? And why are you following us?" he hissed contemptuously.
"I just wanted to see where you were going," replied Jowan contritely. "I-I wanted to…apologise, but didn't know how to approach you."
"Apologise?" snapped Blythe, trembling as she spoke. "Do you have any idea what you've done? I was forced to leave my home because of you! And the only man I've ever…" she stopped and took deep breaths. Allis put his hand on her shoulder, saddened by her words.
Blythe collected herself and spoke again. "And Lily? The woman you claimed to love? She was sent to Aeonar!"
"What?" cried Jowan in panic. "But she didn't do anything wrong!"
"And neither did I!" yelled Blythe, not caring if anyone heard. "You lied to me! You lied to all of us! Do you have any idea of the torment I went through over you, because I actually believed you when looked me in the eye and told me you weren't a blood mage? I went to see Irving because I was so worried for you…"
"You did what?" interrupted Jowan.
Blythe walked right up to him, her pretty features marred with contempt as she spoke. "Oh, never fear, Jowan! It was not I who ensnared you – Irving already suspected your plan, and used me as a pawn to trap you, my so-called friend. I exited his office that day with the words 'duty to the Circle' ringing in my ears. I hated myself for what I was doing because I believed you.
Then," she said with a tremor in her voice, "the bastard double-crossed me, because he and Gregoir knew about Cullen and I! They would have sent me to Aeonar as well!"
"Cullen?" muttered Alistair in recognition. Allis glanced at him.
Blythe, enraged, took out her staff. "I may only be a healer, Jowan," she spat, "and I may not be able to kill easily. But I can still cause immense amounts of pain!"
As Jowan backed away, pleading, Alistair noticed his hand move to a small dagger tucked into his belt. "Oh no you don't, you filth!" he cried, as he ran forward and delivered a brutal right-hook to Jowan's jaw, sending the blood mage sprawling onto his back.
As Alistair yanked him up by his hair, Allis noticed the dagger fall from Jowan's hand. "You piece of shit!" he cried. "You were actually going to use blood magic against her? She's supposed to be your friend!"
"You're coming to the Chantry with me!" scowled Alistair, roughly twisting Jowan's arms behind his back. "I have some Templar friends there who would love to make your acquaintance!"
"Wait!" cried Morrigan. "I say this boy could be useful to us. If not, then release him. 'Tis better to be freed than to be slain merely for being different!"
"Release him? You must be joking!" laughed Alistair. "He's a blood mage! He can't be allowed to just run around unchecked! He's going to the Chantry!" Alistair started to drag Jowan away.
"Is this Alistair who speaks, or the Templar?" demanded Morrigan.
Alistair wheeled round and glared at her. "Well, the Templar, obviously," he said petulantly. "But let's see what the mages think as well, shall we?" he said, looking at Blythe and Allis. "What do you two think should be done with him?"
"Let the Templars have the bastard!" said Allis hatefully.
"Blythe?" asked Alistair.
"Just get him away from me," she replied quietly, turning her back on Jowan so he would not see her tears. "I can't even look at him."
"Well," sneered Alistair, "I'm afraid you're outvoted, Morrigan. Although," he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "we do appreciate your efforts in capturing him," as he dragged Jowan toward the Chantry.
Morrigan tutted and scowled. Allis put his arm around Blythe's waist, who was still shaking, before leading her and the others over to an area just north of the village, where they had decided to make camp for the night.
"Are you coming, Morrigan?" he asked. She sighed and followed the rest of the group.
o~~~~~~~~~o
Anders stood beneath the trapdoor, looking through a crack in the wood and listening. He'd heard several Templars pass above in the last half an hour or so, some of whom he expected had entered the Inn. I'd better not use any magic for a while, he thought to himself.
He crouched and went though the small door into the tunnel, locking it behind him, then made his way to the second door. He opened it and stood in the doorway quietly for a few moments. Cullen was out of bed and rummaging through Anders' belongings.
"You won't find it there, you know," sighed Anders.
Cullen looked up with a start. "Find what? I wasn't er…this is not what you think," he said unconvincingly.
Anders shrugged as he walked over and sat on one of the crates. "If messing up my bedroll takes your mind off things, be my guest. But you're wasting your time," he said airily.
"Look, Anders, I've been thinking," said Cullen eagerly, "I think I should be weaned off this." Anders rolled his eyes. "No, listen to me," he continued, grasping at tenuous reasons to obtain a dose of opium. "If I'm weaned off, we can get out of here more quickly, and then, when we're safely away, then I can come off it completely."
"Forget it," Anders said firmly. "We agreed – you agreed – that stopping completely was the best thing to do. Delaying it will just cause you more pain in the long term, Cullen. And besides, we can't go anywhere. This area is crawling with Templars."
"Just a little bit?" Cullen pleaded, mopping sweat from his brow with trembling hands. "I-I can't cope with being cooped up in here, Anders. I feel like the walls are closing in on me!"
"I'm sorry, Cullen," said Anders, shaking his head. "I couldn't give you any even if I wanted to. I've stashed it."
"Stashed it? What do you mean?" cried Cullen sharply. "You're lying! You didn't have time to stash anything! Now, tell me where it is!"
"No, Cullen," Anders replied, "This is for your own good."
A flash of anger crossed Cullen's face as he walked over to Anders. "Those phials belong to me! You have no right to keep them from me!" he shouted.
"Take it easy, big fella," said Anders, holding his palms up. Although the two men were comparable in height, Cullen easily had a 50-pound weight advantage over Anders.
Cullen retrieved his massive, two-handed sword from beneath his bedroll. What were you thinking, letting him bring that, you idiot? Anders thought to himself as Cullen placed the blade against his throat.
Anders removed his staff from his back and threw it to the ground. "I'm not going to fight you, Cullen," he said evenly, his calm voice belying his fear.
"This is your last chance, Anders! Stop lying to me and give me what I want!" yelled Cullen desperately. Anders noticed that his eyes appeared to be glazed over.
"Alright then, Cullen," retorted Anders, folding his arms, "kill me. I'm an unarmed mage. What chance do I have against a Templar wielding a bastard sword? And, with me dead, you'll be free to run – right into the Templars you hate so much! They'll take you back to the Tower, and, if they don't execute you, you'll be back at square one – still imprisoned in the Tower, and still addicted to the poison that is causing you to act so foolishly! So go ahead, Cullen! What are you waiting for?"
Cullen gulped and stared at Anders for a moment, the hatred on his face slowly giving way to doubt.
"Cullen?" asked Anders nervously. "I'd really appreciate it if you removed that terrifying hunk of metal from my throat."
Cullen stepped back and removed the sword as requested, letting it fall to the floor. "Anders…" he whispered, shaking his head. "I'm…"
Anders' fear was replaced by pity as Cullen covered his face with his hands and his shoulders shook. "It's alright," Anders said soothingly, putting his arm around Cullen as he wept. "Come on, sit down."
Cullen sat on Anders' bedroll against the wall, brought his knees up to his chest and sobbed into his folded arms. Anders brought him some water and sat next to him on the bedroll.
"Anders…I'm so sorry," Cullen spoke at length, his voice wavering. "I…I don't know what came over me. You're just trying to help me, I know. I-I just don't think I could take it if I had another…dream like that."
"Dream?" asked Anders. "What happened?"
Cullen raised his head, wiping his tears away, and looked pitifully at Anders. His face was so pale, Anders could see the veins beneath the surface. "I dreamed about that poor boy I killed, Anders," he whispered.
"You mean Scott, don't you?" Anders replied softly, referring to the apprentice Cullen had been forced to slay during his Harrowing.
Cullen nodded and sniffed loudly. "I don't know if it was a dream, but it seemed like he was really here – in this room – standing over my bedroll. He was bleeding," he mumbled, his voice breaking. "He had a hole in his belly. He said he was in the Fade where Demons tormented him day and night! He said that every second of his life was now filled with torture and pain and fire! He started weeping and begged me to end it for him, but I didn't know how, Anders!"
Anders put his arm around Cullen's shoulders as tears fell down his face.
"I did that to him!" Cullen wailed, collapsing into sobs once more.
"It was a dream, Cullen," Anders whispered, swallowing hard. "Look, as a mage I can tell you that you did Scott a favour. If I were ever to become possessed, I would want it over as quickly as possible. Scott knew it could happen, we all do. I really don't envy you Templars that part of the job."
Cullen nodded slowly. "But I'd never killed anything in my life before that – not even a fly. He looked at me, Anders – as my sword went through him – I'll never forget the look in his eyes. He was so brave, he didn't cry or scream or shout. He just looked at me, like he couldn't believe what I'd done. I think a part of me died that day with him."
"Well, of course it did," replied Anders. "That's because you're a human being and a decent man, Cullen. But you'll heal over time. I know it doesn't seem that way now, but you will. This is a low point in your life, Cullen – things can only get better, and they will, I promise."
"I'm sorry for threatening you, Anders," said Cullen, deeply ashamed. "Will you dispose of that sword, or stash it somewhere – you seem to be good at that," he asked, a faint smile crossing his lips.
Anders laughed, relieved to see a tiny glimmer of humour from Cullen. "Oh, I'm way ahead of you there, don't you worry," he smiled. "I'll ask Dav to put it away - my staff, too. That way, if we get into another fight, we'll have to rely on fists only. Oh, wait – I'm still fucked either way!"
Cullen giggled a little, then his shoulders shook as he laughed properly for the first time in days, tears rolling down his face. He looked at Anders and spoke. "You're doubly fucked," he smiled, causing Anders to gasp in astonishment, as he'd never heard Cullen use curse words before. "I don't need a staff or a sword to smite you."
The two men threw their heads back and laughed, before falling silent and eventually succumbing to sleep sitting next to each other, with Anders' arm still around his friend's shoulder.
o~~~~~~~~o
Alistair returned to camp after turning Jowan over to Ser Bryant, the Templar in charge of the Lothering Chantry. He walked past a glowering Morrigan, who was receiving unsolicited hair and beauty tips from Leliana. Reaper bounded up to him, and Alistair grabbed his snout in greeting as he looked over toward a lone tree, where Blythe and Allis sat.
He hesitated for a moment, then walked over to them, with Reaper at his heel. "May we join you?" he asked hesitantly upon reaching them.
Allis looked at Blythe, who nodded and gestured for him to sit down.
"Are you alright, Blythe?" asked Alistair, sitting down in front of them both. He could tell she'd been crying.
Blythe shrugged and cast her eyes down. "He just brought some memories back to me, that's all. I thought I'd come to terms with it…leaving the Tower, I mean. But…" Her words trailed off as she shook her head sadly. She sighed and spoke again. "I suppose you were wondering what that was all about, weren't you?" she asked of Alistair.
He and Allis exchanged glances. "I've…told him, Blythe," said Allis, "about Cullen. I hope you don't mind." Blythe shrugged and shook her head.
"Cullen…I thought that's what you said earlier," said Alistair. "I think I know him, well at least I used to."
"Really?" asked Blythe animatedly.
"Yeah," he replied. "He was at the Chantry in Redcliffe when I arrived there. He was a couple of years older than I was. Red hair? Really, really shy? First name Sebastian?"
"Sebastian? I didn't know that! But yes, that sounds like him!" laughed Blythe, with tears in her eyes. Allis grinned at her but felt sadness at the same time.
"We were friends," Alistair said, smiling fondly. "I don't remember how exactly, because we were both so shy at first we could barely look people in the eye, but somehow we hit it off. I was always the naughty one, playing pranks and being cheeky, and he was the one hiding in the background and sniggering while I was sent to scrub pots in the kitchen!
As we grew older, though, the two of us had a few…conversations. We both had misgivings about becoming Templars. We couldn't tell anybody else. We confided in each other."
Alistair sighed and continued. "I was desperately unhappy. Luckily for me, Duncan conscripted me before I took my final vows. If it hadn't been for Duncan, I…" he sighed again. "It looks like Cullen did take his final vows, though, if he ended up in the Tower. Was he happy there?" he asked Blythe.
"It's hard to say," replied Blythe, looking at Allis, who shrugged. "He wasn't like the other Templars, that's for sure. Quite a few of the mages considered him a friend."
"I can believe that," smiled Alistair. "He was a very sweet-natured man."
Silence fell between the three of them for a while. Blythe stood up and went over to her backpack, retrieving a few items, before returning.
"Right," she said, changing the subject as she sat on the ground. "I promised Allis I would teach him to heal. Alistair, would you mind being our patient?"
Allis shot her a sly glance as Alistair recoiled in mock horror. "You're not going to cut my arm off or anything, are you?"
"I doubt even I could heal that," she chuckled. "No, I just want to make a few nicks to your hand. I'm sure a beefy warrior such as yourself can handle that!"
"Why can't you nick your own hand?" groaned Alistair.
"Because I'll be demonstrating, then Allis will have to copy me. Now give me your hand. Come closer, Allis."
Allis scooted nearer to Alistair, sitting opposite him. Alistair reluctantly proffered his hand to Blythe, who grinned at him before making a small cut to his hand with a tiny blade. Alistair winced and yelped dramatically. Blythe took his hand and kissed it, instantly healing the cut.
"Oh, now you're just showing off!" protested Allis. The three of them laughed. Blythe then made another small cut to Alistair's hand and moved it toward Allis.
"Take his hand, Allis," Blythe instructed. Allis took Alistair's hand in his own, shooting Blythe an amused look as he did so. Alistair shifted about. "Now, touch the cut with your other hand and concentrate. Picture the skin on either side knitting itself together. Now do this," she said, softly stroking Alistair's hand.
Allis looked Alistair directly in the eyes and grinned as he stroked the whole length of his hand. Alistair blushed and giggled softly. A faint green light emanated from Alistair's hand as the tiny cut slowly mended itself.
"Well done, Allis!" chirped Blythe. "Now, for something a little bigger."
"Hey!" protested Alistair. "I didn't agree to that!"
"Hold still!" chided Blythe. "You Templars are brave enough when dealing with smited mages," she teased, "but you balk at a tiny little cut?"
Alistair laughed good-naturedly and looked at Allis, who grinned back at him.
Blythe made a slightly larger cut to Alistair's hand. He didn't wince this time, as he was still giggling. "Proceed," Blythe said to Allis.
Allis took Alistair's hand in his, then, as he looked directly at Alistair, softly stroked with his other hand. Alistair knew that Allis was looking at him and laughed softly, unable to meet his gaze.
Blythe stood up. "I'm going to see how Leliana's getting on with supper," she said. "You two carry on. I want you to be able to heal an inch-long cut by the time I return."
She smiled to herself as she walked away, whistling for Reaper to follow her. As she approached the two women, she turned back just in time to see Allis planting a soft kiss on Alistair's lips, and Alistair's hand reaching up to stroke Allis' hair.
Blythe watched them for a moment, tears welling in her eyes as she smiled sadly and thought of Cullen. As long as one of us finds happiness, that's good enough for me, she thought as a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away and took a deep breath, plastering a bland smile on her face as she walked toward Morrigan and Leliana.