The sounds of heavy machinery far in the distance woke Claire up to a raging headache, and she sat up, holding her head. Nothing sounded right, nothing smelled right... ashes, mixed with the smell of urine and feces, and possibly meat cooking... It made her want to vomit. She noticed she was still wearing her gear from the medieval festival, including her sword and daggers, and her shield was lying beside her.
Checking her armor over, and her cloak, everything seemed fine, so she grabbed her shield and looked around. The area she was in was small, but there was a staircase going up nearby, and multiple torches lighting the way. The walls were nothing special, only indicating that she was underground, and it reminded her of one of her video games. It actually reminded her a lot of one in particular. Maybe she was dreaming.
She wandered down the staircase and chose a direction to go, following that wall until she got to a staircase leading further up. The hallway she found herself in was a little more populated, with people dressed in filthy rags, but they were all humans, and they stared at her with hungry eyes. Too bad she was almost completely broke, aside from her world's coins which were worth nothing, and then her armor and weapons, not something she was going to give up any time soon. She continued on, hoping maybe she could get away from the undercity, but a voice called out to her, and it could have only been for her...
"Hey, captain! In the fancy cloak and armor!" She turned and looked at the three people approaching her. If anyone else had been in the vicinity, they had cleared out at the first sign of trouble. Two men in armor and a woman in a dress. Wielding a staff. Claire could only think of one type of fighter to do that and was not looking forward to a fight with her.
"Yes?" She asked, hoping her voice and demeanor didn't betray her anxiety.
"Pretty fancy gear for coming down here, eh?" One of the men asked with a sneer. "You with the Chantry? Templars?" Templars? Claire was getting an even worse feeling at that. It was far too much like her game...
"Ah, no, I'm new here, not with anyone yet." She replied.
"Mighty fine gear..." The second man licked his lips. "You, uh, wouldn't mind parting with it now, would you?" Claire glared at the man.
"No, I am not parting with my gear." She snapped, then had a quick thought that it might be her last sentence.
"Ah, shame that is." The woman smiled as she charged a spell. Shit! Claire brought her shield up, praying it would deflect whatever the mage was doing, and unsheathed her sword. She was hit by a powerful force that slid her back, but thankfully she kept her footing and charged at the men. They fought like green recruits, and aside from trying to block spells, Claire was able to take them out. But the mage...
The mage was furious and shot a fireball at Claire. It shattered her shield, burning it into bits. Claire shook her arm and pulled out a dagger. She wasn't going to have much of a chance. The mage hit her with a lightning bolt and Claire arched her back in pain, unable to scream until the spell stopped, leaving her gasping on the ground. Suddenly she was hit again, with what she assumed, as she flew through the air, to be stone fist, and then she felt herself get shoved hard into the ground. Not wanting to give the mage another chance, Claire threw her dagger as soon as she was able, ignoring the pain, then got up and ran to the mage, who was now sporting the blade from her shoulder.
"Fuck you, mage! Fucking hellspawn, you should all be put to the torch!" Claire screamed as she rammed her sword through the mage. "I'll make sure you never hurt another person again, you inhuman freak!" Claire then sliced her head off.
"Well, I suppose we should just be going then." Claire's blood froze in her veins as she turned to look at the speaker. Maker... It was Hawke, with Fenris, Varric, and of course, Anders. Of all the people, of all the places... she had to be dreaming. It was all just a dream. Even though the pain of what the mage had just put her through was still screaming in her body, it had to be a dream.
Claire fell to her knees, gasping. "Maker's breath... Hawke..."
"Do I know you?" He asked. "Or wait, right, because of the whole champion thing. You'd think after a year I'd get used to that. You don't have to look like I'm an archdemon about to bite your head off, though, I'm not that scary."
"Unless she means me." Anders scowled. "Do you want to put me to the torch as well?" His voice was so angry, it hurt. Claire couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. In all her years, she'd never expected such a scenario. She fell prostate on the ground, covering her head with her arms.
"No... no no no. Maker no." She blathered. "Y-you're Anders..."
"Seems your reputation precedes you, mage." Fenris said.
"No, I didn't mean it like that!" Claire was feeling far too flustered and dizzy.
"Easy there, kid, we're not going to hurt you, no matter what you've been told." Varric said, chuckling. "I know my stories can get a bit out of hand, but we're not monsters."
"Well, not all of us." Fenris looked at Anders pointedly.
"I-I'm not b-being clear..." Claire was feeling awfully cold suddenly, as well as anxious, and she wasn't sure she could stand up without passing out. Black spots started filling her vision. "I can't breathe..." Was that going to be her last sentence? Her vision went completely black, and she lost control of her body, but yet she could still hear.
"She's losing too much blood." Anders said. "I'll see if I can at least stabilize her." His voice sounded muffled and far away.
"I'd say she did pretty good on her own, against a blood mage like that." Hawke said. Blood mage? I thought she was just a normal mage...
"Don't worry, I'm sure she won't hate you once she finds out you healed her, Blondie." Varric said. No no no no... Anders, I don't hate you, I could never hate you! If she could scream, she would have.
"I have to save her first." Anders' voice sounded strained. "These wounds are deep and difficult to heal. Here, get her cloak and armor off, I need to make sure I'm not missing something." Claire could vaguely feel her body being moved, but it felt so numb.
"Is that a Chantry necklace?" Hawke asked. He must mean my sunburst amber necklace... shit, of course it would look like a Chantry thing. "I suppose it's fitting the other one has a sword on it." No no no no no! I hate the Chantry! I'm not a Chantry girl! Please!
"All right, maybe I was wrong, maybe she will still hate you." Varric sighed. Claire was trying desperately to move, or speak, or do anything other than lie there, listening to them spread lies about her. Not just lies, but horrific lies that went against everything she believed in!
"What else is new?" Anders grumbled.
"Aren't you afraid she'll turn you in to the Templars?" Hawke asked.
"Well so far, neither Fenris nor Aveline have." Anders snapped. "I can't just let her die." Well, that's good to know... despite the fact you're going to blow up the Chantry anyway. Why not just take me out? Why not just pretend that, oh oops, you couldn't heal me after all? She was frustrated and it wasn't doing her any good. They finally got her breastplate off.
"Maker, look at all that blood." Hawke said.
"What spell could do that?" Fenris asked. Claire could feel her tunic and chemise being ripped off and she wanted to cry for them to stop, but it was too late anyway. "Her armor didn't look damaged, yet most of her ribs are broken so badly?"
"Andraste's tits, I've never seen someone that bad off who lived." Varric said.
"She's still alive." Anders said. "This will be difficult, but I think I can do it." So am I a challenge now? If she could smirk, she would have. She only wished she was passed out or something, rather than trapped, listening to them, feeling the ghost of her body being messed with. Maybe it was just a dream, but it sure felt real.
"So... what do you think a woman like this would be doing in Darktown?" Varric asked. "Not your typical bottom dweller, definitely not a Templar... someone working for the Divine? Nothing secretive, not dressed like that, but the colors fit with the Chantry, definitely." Oh yeah, raise me up that high why don't you! I don't really look that rich do I?
"She knows about Anders." Hawke said. "That in itself is a bit odd. If she knew, why wouldn't she have brought the Templars with her? Unless she's come for some other reason." If I knew why I was here, I'd be much happier... Shit, even how I got here would be nice to know! Actually, at this point, I think I'll be happy just to survive... fuck knowing anything.
"I highly doubt she's with the Wardens..." Varric muttered.
"No, or at least, she's not a Warden herself." Anders sounded exhausted, but Claire still couldn't feel much of anything. Not that she was complaining, as she couldn't feel the pain either, and from their description, she didn't want to. She was probably just in shock after the battle, the adrenaline pumping and then slowly her body started shutting down as the adrenaline wore off. That made the most sense, anyway. She wasn't exactly a medical expert.
"There's nothing in her pouch that would indicate any affiliation with anything." Fenris said. He must be looking through my belt pouch. I forgot I had that, since my purse is missing. "Assassin's throwing knives? A couple vials of pills, and a pouch of coins that I don't recognize." Just advil and benadryl... I suppose I could knock someone out with the benadryl.
"You're right, those are pretty foreign coins." Varric said through the clinking of the coins. My Sacajawea and Susan B Anthony dollar coins... Claire wanted to laugh. Even back home people had a hard time recognizing those coins as real money. "They're not gold or silver, whatever they are. Probably copper and maybe steel, by the look of it. I doubt they'd be worth anything here. I'm not sure what the pills are, they don't look like anything I've ever seen before either. You might want to watch your food and drink around this one."
"Now I want to talk to her more than ever." Hawke said. "How's she doing?" Claire heard a grunt.
"I think I'm going to need to down some lyrium." Anders said. "Putting her ribs back in place is... difficult work. But, I think I've stopped the bleeding and healed her lungs enough that she won't die. Soon we'll be able to move her to my clinic, and you shall have your answers." Says you, I'm not telling you jack shit about my world. But... what should I tell them? Claire was at a loss. She at least had time to concoct a story, but it needed to be good, something believable, and not too over the top.
Since they seemed to consider her outfit of a more higher standing... She knew nothing of the other countries, like Rivain or Nevarra or even Antiva. She had focused mostly on Kirkwall and Ferelden, with nasty side glances at Tevinter and Orlais. Ferelden was her favorite place. Kirkwall she only liked because of Anders, but otherwise she wanted to blow the whole city up. She certainly couldn't blame the arishok for what he'd done. She'd just have to make up a place... but from where? Further west, past the Anderfels? Surely she couldn't go further north, past Par Vollen. South. She'd have to have come from the south, past the Dales and the Arbor Wilds.
Cambria, south of the Arbor Wilds, by a week or two's journey. Wiped out by pirates? How would she have learned of Anders? Four years, or however long it was, was a long enough time for one to track down his history, she supposed, and it wasn't like he was really keeping himself a secret, though the abomination part kind of was. She didn't even know if the Hero of Ferelden had survived to become the Warden-Commander. She assumed Alistair was king, since that was canon...
The group had moved on to other topics, such as Meredith being a bitch, giving Claire the idea that Hawke was siding with the mages more than the Templars, but still wasn't entirely on Anders' side.
"Could someone get a stretcher, so we can transport her to the clinic?" Anders asked.
"Sure, you have them against the wall, right?" Hawke asked.
"Yes, thank you." A few minutes later, Anders started muttering. "It's just you and me now, and still no answers. Did you come to kill me yourself? Why in the Maker's name am I saving your life? None of this is going to matter soon anyway... Next thing you know, I'll be healing Templars..." Anders, if I could, I would probably help you blow the Chantry up. Trust me, I don't like it any more than you do. She felt a twinge, and quite rapidly, pain started flooding her senses. She sucked in a deep breath, feeling it burn, stabbing her chest, and her vision came back. All she could do was stare at Anders, her eyes wide.
"And so you've returned to us." He said, sounding less than pleased.
"Anders..." She still couldn't really talk, her throat felt raw and dry and her lungs burned. She tried to move her hand to her necklaces that they'd left on, but he stopped her.
"Don't move, you're still pretty injured." He sighed as she continued to try, finally letting her. She picked up the sun by the bottom tip and held it up.
"Not Chantry." She said. "Sun. Life." Her vision started going black again, only this time, she wasn't trapped in limbo, but embraced by the darkness.
"She said it's not the Chantry?" Hawke was in disbelief. "But look at it. Obviously it's a sun, but how is it not the Chantry? What did she mean by life?"
"I don't know, she lost consciousness again. She must have heard us talking, or how else would she know what we thought of her necklaces?" Anders stared at the back of his clinic where they'd hidden her. He'd healed what he could for the moment, but he needed to rest to replenish his mana.
"If that's true, she heard everything else too." Fenris said. "At least we spoke of nothing important."
"No, just our suspicions of her and how to act around her." Varric shrugged.
"I'll let you know when she's awake and able to talk, which probably won't be until tomorrow." Anders said. "In the meantime, I don't feel particularly safe leaving the clinic while she's around. She seems to be fairly stubborn, and if she gets it in her head to try to walk off before she's finished healing..."
"Right, we'll stop by tomorrow and see how things are." Hawke bid farewell and left Anders to himself. The healer walked into the back and stared at the woman. They'd undressed her except for her pants, and covered her in bandages and a blanket, but even then, without all her things, she still looked foreign.
"Perhaps you can't hear me now, but if you can..." He sat down on a box next to the bed. "I won't kill a patient, and so long as you don't pose a threat to anyone else, I won't strike you down. But if you threaten anyone in my clinic, you will feel Justice's burn." He quickly stood up and walked away, surprised at his own anger towards the woman. She may claim to not be Chantry, but he had heard very clearly what she'd yelled at the blood mage. Inhuman freaks, hellspawn that needed to all be put to the torch, whatever a hellspawn was. He imagined it was something like a darkspawn. Inhuman... It'd been so long, yet he could still hear it so clearly...
While he couldn't blame the woman for being so angry at the blood mage, those words were fairly specific and then the way she'd looked at him, with so much horror on her face, and the fear in her voice as she said his name. She knew him, and what he was. How could she know about him? Was it truly wise for Hawke to leave him with her? He decided to distract himself with making sure his potions were in order.