Day and night blurred together in the dark of the tunnels. While waiting for his injuries to heal and magic to be restored, Anders tutored Zoya in healing and other fundamental magic, and she instructed him in basic combat. Zoya wasn't sure which of the teachers endured the most hardship, but at least Anders' mishaps hadn't resulted in the training room filling with bolts of lightning or swirling flames. And then there was the cyclone she'd accidentally summoned - the room's weaponry had taken flight like deadly leaves in the wind. Needless to say, both of them had ample opportunity to practice their healing skills. If her misadventures in offensive magic were any indication of the trials of the typical apprentice, Zoya wondered how the Circle Tower remained standing. She hated to concede that perhaps the Templars had at least one positive use – neutralizing spells gone wrong.
From what Zoya's cousins told her, there had been no sign in the Alienage of anyone searching for Anders. She was starting to feel hopeful that the Templars had stopped looking for him. But this hope was tempered with the knowledge that they would both need to return to their lives soon.
Her thoughts turned pensive - with all the recent distractions, it had been easy to forget about the wedding and relocation to Highever looming on the horizon. Zoya's gaze lingered on her companion as he focused on the potion he was preparing. Anders was certainly a pleasant diversion from her life and responsibilities in the Alienage; she hadn't felt this content since before her mother had died. She loved her family, but being here with Anders and openly discussing the wonders and pitfalls of the magic they shared was incredible, something she had no idea she'd needed. Maybe that's why she hadn't told him about her betrothal or that she would be leaving Denerim in less than a fortnight.
As if he knew her thoughts were elsewhere, Anders cleared his throat to get her attention. "Please don't take this as a reflection on your company, which is really quite delightful, but would it be possible to leave these tunnels for a bit? I was thinking we could go to the docks to see if we can find my staff." Anders gave Zoya a hopeful smile.
Guilt twinged in her gut, but Zoya kept her face neutral as she stared down at the herbs she had been mincing. Within days of bringing him to the tunnels, she'd returned to the docks and retrieved his staff; it had thankfully rolled into the shadows of some jumbled shipping crates and not into the water. While she'd intended to return it as soon as she'd determined he wasn't a threat, something was encouraging her to keep it hidden. She preferred to think it was the potential opportunities for mischief rather than being afraid he'd leave as soon as it was returned.
She quirked a curious eyebrow, "Why the sudden interest in finding your staff? I can't imagine that it's still at the docks. But then maybe it ended up in the water? You wouldn't believe the things that end up there. Oh wait… I guess you would." She looked up from her task, giving him a wink and a wry grin. "Besides, it would be far easier to just find you another staff - perhaps you'd like the one with the dragon's claw?"
"You just want to see me hanging upside down by my feet again. Well, you're out of luck, gorgeous - I won't be fooled twice." Anders' smirk shifted into a frown and his brow furrowed. "Seriously though, I want to see if we can find my staff. I assumed it was lost or maybe destroyed during the fight with Templars when I saw it wasn't with my other belongings. But the more I think through what happened that night, the more I'm sure that it's still at the docks somewhere. I need to at least go and look."
Zoya set the knife she was using on the well-worn work table and sauntered to the sleeping platform, perching on its edge and resting her chin on folded hands. "What's so special about this particular staff? Maybe if you tell me what it looks like, that'll trigger my memories from that night."
"It was a gift from a friend and I'm quite attached to it." Anders face was wistful as he spoke, "It's silverite with two serpents entwined and a golden crystal orb between the heads."
Zoya tapped at her chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm… that does sound familiar. Now where have I seen a staff like that?" Her face lit up in a mischievous smile before she somersaulted to the back edge of the platform. An agile hand dove between the framing and the wall to wrap around the cool metal of the staff secreted there. "Perhaps it looks like this one?" She sprang to her feet, twirling it lazily between her hands.
Anders beamed as he strode eagerly to the sleeping platform. "Yes, that's my staff! Where did you find it?" The grin faded, "Wait… how long have you had it?"
"If you want it, you'll have to come and get it," she taunted, dancing out of his reach.
A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he climbed onto the platform. "You're such a brat sometimes, you know that?"
Zoya shrieked in delight when he lunged for her, gracefully sidestepping and flipping from the platform before dashing to the center of the room. "Spar with me, my dear mage. If you win, it's yours again."
He slid from the platform, grabbing a simple wooden staff from a rack as he approached her warily. They circled each other, Zoya's skilled feints only increasing his frustration. While Anders had proven to be a difficult student with blades and the bow, she had quickly learned that his long years of handling a staff for magic made him a natural at using it as a mundane weapon. She grinned fiercely as they settled into a rhythm, staves clashing and whirling.
He stepped away, twirling the staff easily and breathing deeply to refocus himself before relaxing into a defensive stance and beckoning to her. In the mere seconds it took to gather herself for an attack, he made a quick and elegant gesture with his hand. A glow beneath her feet froze her in her tracks and her body ceased to obey her commands. He smiled wickedly, "Paralysis glyph, gorgeous."
"Hey! That's not fair! You're not allowed to use magic!" Zoya scowled at him.
Anders stroked his chin as he circled her, regarding her with laughter in his eyes. "Hmm… I don't seem to recall you saying anything about magic not being allowed." He plucked the staff from her fingers. "Be glad I didn't hang you upside down." Careful not to step onto the glowing glyph below her feet, he gathered her into a tight hug. Zoya felt her cheeks flush as he whispered his thanks into her ear - the tickle of his lips against her ear and caress of his warmth breath against her neck making her stomach flip-flop and her knees go weak. She was suddenly thankful she was under the effects of the glyph as it was all that kept her on her feet.
~oOo~
Zoya returned from her supply run with fewer provisions than she'd hoped. While she was happy to see Soris and hear the latest report from the Alienage, the news he brought wasn't all good. Shianni had been making Soris and Cyrion crazy as she shifted into wedding planning mode - all she talked about was dresses, flowers, and feasting. And Alarith had refused to extend additional credit to her since she was supposedly employed in the city and could afford to pay for her supplies. She really couldn't blame him. The elves in the Alienage were notorious for acquiring their supplies on credit and not being quick about paying what they owed - he was running a business after all.
Anders looked up from his book when she trudged into the cell, the expectant grin dying on his face. "I'm guessing from your expression that something is wrong?"
Zoya set the crate – sadly light with only a couple of water jugs, a loaf of stale bread and a small bundle of dried meat - next to the dwindling provisions already stashed near her bed roll. "It appears we're now on our own for supplies. We have plenty of water and my cousins can probably squirrel a little food away for us. But we'll have to come up with a different plan if you want to eat enough to keep meat on that lanky frame of yours."
"Lanky? You think I'm lanky? Couldn't you have said manly instead?" He clutched his hand to his chest, mock pain twisting his face. "You wound me deeply, woman."
"That's really all you took from what I just said? I guess it's hard to think of you as manly when all you do is talk about how much you miss wearing a dress." She threw an impish grin over her shoulder as she sorted through their supplies, trying to get an accurate idea of how much food they had left. "I figure we have rations for one more day, perhaps two if we're careful."
"How many times do I have to tell you? It's a robe, not a dress." Anders scolded her.
"It's hard not to call it a dress when it has more embellishments than the one my mother wore to her wedding." Zoya waved the remains of Anders' ruined robe as proof.
Anders flashed a saucy grin, "Well, maybe you'd think it was manly if I told you the advantages of wearing the robe…"
Zoya interrupted him with an impatient wave of her hand as a blush rose on her cheeks. "Anders, I already told you that I don't want to hear about what the Circle mages get up to when they're supposed to be studying."
Anders chuckled at her discomfort. "Your loss – I have so many toe-curling stories I could share." He dropped the grin in favor of a more serious expression. "But I was actually talking about the hidden pockets and the enchanted fabric that provides armoring and protection from spell damage." He shook his head in feigned disappointment. "Really? Such thoughts going through that innocent mind of yours."
Zoya raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sure you were. So do you have any useful insight on how we're going to feed ourselves? Or do I need to go hunt for Alienage 'rabbit.'"
He rose from the platform where he was seated and knelt beside her, ruffling her hair with a teasing hand. "You're cute when you're trying to be so focused and serious. And I'm not falling for that 'rabbit' thing again. I know rat remains when I see them." He turned a little green from the memory of the last time she tricked him into eating one of the large tunnel rodents. "I may be able to help a bit. I have some coin stashed in my pack - it should still be in my room at the Pearl. And I know a woman there who might have some ideas on how to get more coin."
Zoya's eyes widened. "You have a room at the brothel?"
Anders laughed at her surprise. "Sure. The rooms are reasonably cheap and clean, and the patrons and employees tend to mind their own business."
"And what exactly would we need to do to earn that coin?" Zoya raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"If you think I'm suggesting we prostitute ourselves for coin or food, you'd be wrong." He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Although, I don't know about you, but I've picked up some skills over the years that could be... lucrative."
"I'm not sure I want to know what those skills might be." Zoya avoided his eyes as she replied. "It appears that you'll finally get your wish to leave the tunnels - we're off to the Pearl. But if we're going there, we'll need different clothes - these scream 'Alienage refugee.'" Zoya looked down at her simple and well-patched tunic in disdain.
"Well, at least you're not sure you want to know - that means you're not completely opposed to finding out." He offered a quick wink. "I hesitate to ask, but if we can't afford food, how are we going to afford new clothes?"
"Who says we're going to pay for them?" Zoya strode over to a table and loaded the tools she would need into a small pack. "Or are you opposed to a little burglary?"
~oOo~
Zoya and Anders followed a short side tunnel into Denerim proper, emerging through a hidden panel in a back alley not far from the market. It was close to midday and Zoya stood still in the alley for a moment, her eyes closed to the sun's glare as she luxuriated in its warmth on her skin. Once they had adjusted to the brightness, she turned curious eyes toward Anders, suddenly realizing that she had never seen him in the sunlight. She was surprised to find that he was already studying her. She dropped her gaze to the cobbles below her feet, nervous fingers pushing a lock of hair behind an ear.
He offered her a lopsided smile as he ran his hands over his hair. "I can't help but feel naked out here on the streets without my staff and robes."
Zoya shook her head, a bemused expression on her face. "What is it with the ornate robes and staves anyway? Do mages not realize those things just scream 'Hello, I'm a mage. Please throw those manacles on me, drag me off and lock me in the Circle'?"
"Well, Templars aren't always the brightest. And short of wearing a big sign on our chests, it's the least we can do to make their jobs easier," Anders laughed.
Zoya paused at the mouth of the alley, keen eyes assessing the overall layout and energy of the market. She liked to come here - it was one of the few places in Denerim she could go without drawing much attention and it offered excellent opportunities for people watching. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat mingled with the sounds of street musicians and vendors hawking their wares. All of it blended in a tantalizing medley that lured them into the colorful chaos of the market. People of all status, country and race moved between the vendors, their eyes focused on the wares rather than on each other. It was a cutpurse's paradise – Zoya let her eyes drift, picking several out from the crowd.
Zoya linked her arm through Anders' as they strolled through along the rows of vendors, looking at the wares and chatting amiably about markets in other cities he had visited while on the run from the Templars. Their exploration of the tunnels over the weeks had uncovered a few trinkets of value to sell and Zoya stepped back to allow Anders to haggle with an Antivan merchant. The sad truth was that the merchant was likely to assume the items were stolen and alert the City Guard if she tried to sell them; he was also likely to pay far more coin to Anders for these items than he would to her.
As she waited for Anders' to conclude his business, Zoya's attention was captured by a pretty, but ill-mannered, human woman. She watched with narrowed eyes as the woman threw a large basket full of unfolded clothing down on the ground in a huff before seizing a small tow-headed child by his arm, swatting him squarely on his rump as she gave him a colorful scolding. Maintaining a vice-like grip on the child's arm, the woman snatched up the basket to perch on her hip and dragged the child out of the market. Zoya was surprised that others turned a deaf ear to the woman's outburst; that type of behavior would never have been overlooked in the Alienage.
Zoya steered Anders along the vendor's tables, keeping the foul-mouthed laundress in her sights until the woman disappeared into a residence on the edge of the market. Shrill yelling and cursing could be heard even through the closed door, and it continued as the door burst open and five children tumbled out. The woman left the building shortly after, locking the door behind her and stalking off to a residence a dozen or so doors away.
Zoya's eyes twinkled with an eager light. "I need you to be a lookout – give me some sort of signal if she comes back while I'm still in there." She hesitated just long enough for him to nod in agreement before she guided him to the door, ducking behind him to pick the lock.
Within the space of a few breaths, she had silently slipped into the residence. Giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light in the small main room, she began to search the colorful stacks of neatly folded garments. It didn't take long for her to find clothing that would work for Anders - fitted leather breeches, a simple cotton shirt, and a soft leather jerkin in understated earth tones. While they had agreed to find clothing that was inconspicuous, she knew he would grumble that she hadn't brought him mage's robes. She continued rummaging through the piles, finally coming across something that looked remarkably similar to the one that had been destroyed. Her fingers tingled from the enchantments woven into the sumptuous fabric as she stuffed it, as well as the other garments, into her pack.
Finding clothing for herself, however, was going to be more difficult. Few elves could afford to have their clothes laundered, and she was smaller, in both height and build, than a human woman. She tore through the piles of clothing, tossing the discarded garments aside, until she found something that looked like it would fit. Quickly stripping out of her simple tunic and leggings, she stashed them in her pack before sliding into the narrowly cut dress. Her fingers lingered over the deep green brocade of the fitted bodice as she tightened the laces. As she searched the room for a mirror, a lock box on the mantel caught her eye; she didn't bother resisting the impulse to pick its simple lock and help herself to some of the coin within.
Zoya's heart leapt into her throat when she heard Anders speaking loudly to someone on the other side of the door; she quickly recognized the laundress' grating voice. Looking around frantically she realized that not only was the once neatly folded clothing strewn about the room but that there was nowhere to hide. She took a deep breath, reminding herself she had just the right spell to deal with this type of situation. Grabbing a cloak from one of the stacks of clothing and pulling it on, she let her eyes drift out of focus until she could visualize the Veil. Her fingers reached out, feeling for the ethereal fabric that separated the mundane from the spirit worlds and wrapping it around herself just as the laundress burst into the room with Anders on her heels.
Both humans scanned the room, their faces pinched and pale. The laundress cast horrified eyes at her hard work now strewn about the room, while Anders searched the room for any sign of Zoya. He quickly masked his surprise that she wasn't anywhere in sight.
The scowl on the woman's face chilled Zoya to the bone. "Them brats of mine must've been in here. I told 'em not to come back until dark, I did. And they tore up the place – I'll skin 'em alive."
Zoya couldn't let those children be punished for her carelessness. She suddenly thought of a way to redirect the blame for the mess and maybe keep the woman from further mistreating them while still having a bit of fun. She could only hope that Anders would catch on to her scheme and follow her lead.
She pulled magic into herself, channeling it to set her skin aglow with white light before slipping back through the Veil. In the instant she became visible again, she raised luminous arms dramatically over her head as she recreated the cyclone from the training room - only instead of weapons, this time it was a colorful riot of cloth that spun throughout the room.
She spoke in the most menacing voice she could manage, her lambent face made ominous by shadows from the cloak's hood. "You shall not harm the children! It is your abuse of them that has brought me here from the Fade, my only purpose to defend them. Harm those innocent souls and I shall punish you for eternity! I shall strip the spirit from your body and toss it into the Black City itself!"
The woman's eyes were wide with fear, her face pale as she lurched back from Zoya, stumbling over discarded garments on the floor before finally succeeding in pressing her back against a wall. As Zoya continued her dramatics, assailing the woman with further threats, the laundress' mouth moved frantically, the words lost in the wind.
Zoya could see the glint of mischief in Anders' eyes when he spoke, "My dear lady, you have angered a spirit from the Fade, one of the first children of the Maker. Only by swearing an oath to Him that you will never lay a hand on your children again will this spirit depart and leave you be."
The woman continued to gibber nonsensically, hugging her arms tight around herself. Anders spoke, his voice stern. "Do you swear by the Maker?" The woman's head jerked in a gesture resembling a nod. Anders made significant looking gestures with his hands as spoke again, "Spirit, your task is complete. Now begone." As he made one last dramatic flourish, Zoya slipped back through the Veil, the cyclone dissipating and clothing dropping from the air as she disappeared from sight.
Anders bowed to the woman and moved to exit the house. She spoke with a quavering voice as the door opened, "Thanks to you, sir. I don't know what would have been done if you wasn't here." She moved on unsteady feet to the lockbox on the mantle and unlocked it, grabbing several coins and pressing them into Anders' hand.
"Yes, well, remember your promise. You don't want the spirit to return, do you?" The woman paled and nodded her head solemnly at Anders as he walked out the door. Zoya slipped out unseen in his wake, following him into the shadows of a nearby alley before stepping back through the Veil.
Anders' eyes widened as she suddenly reappeared in front of him. "Andraste's flaming knickers! Where did you come from? What was that all about?"
Zoya flashed a playful smile. "Oh, I was with you the whole time - it's just a stealth thing my mother taught me. There was no way I was going to let that awful woman get away with threatening to hurt her kids. That was quick thinking on your part by the way - thanks for playing along!" Clinging to his hands, she mimicked the laundress' voice when she spoke again. "Oh you handsome man... I don't know what would have been done if you wasn't here. You should get a reward for being so brave, you should." She stepped in close to him, rising up on her tiptoes until their faces were close enough that she could feel his breath and see the golden flecks in his irises. She leaned in closer, but before their lips could meet, a playful smile snuck across her face and she spun away. She bowed as she reached into the pack and pulled out the pilfered garments, presenting them with a flourish. "Your new clothing, my lord."
He inspected each piece, his lip curling in mock disdain "Well, they're not robes, and they're so drab, but I guess I'll just have to make do."
Zoya shrugged out of the cloak and shoved it into her pack. "Drop it about the robes already. Now hurry up and change!"
"So bossy…" Anders scanned the area to make sure they were alone before he stripped quickly out of his simple tunic and pants and pulled on the new garments. Balling the discarded clothing up, he handed them to Zoya to put in her pack. She removed a belt with a sheathed dagger from the pack and fastened it around his waist. "You don't expect me to actually use this thing if we get into trouble, do you?"
"Well, it's not like I can carry it. Don't worry; I'll be the one using it if there's trouble." Zoya chuckled at the thought of Anders using the dagger.
Anders feigned gratitude. "I'm so lucky you're here to protect me." Finally taking a moment to look her over, he grinned in appreciation. "We clean up pretty well, don't you think?"
The pair exited the alley, skirting the crowds in the marketplace as they headed toward the Pearl. The laundress' children were playing tag on the edge of the market. One of the younger children ran up to Zoya, her eyes curious. "Are you an elf? I bet you are – I can tell by your ears. Ma says all elves are lazy and dirty, but I think you're real pretty."
Zoya smiled gently at the girl. "Do you and your siblings like sweets?"
She nodded eagerly "Yeah, but ma says we're bad and don't deserve no sweets."
Zoya reached for the girl's hand, pressing a coin into her dirty palm. "There's a woman at the edge of the market who makes the best cookies - here's a coin to buy some. Just don't tell your mother..."
The child looked up at Zoya, a bright smile stretching across her face, before herding her siblings in the direction that Zoya had indicated.
"You do realize that coin could have bought us a meal." Anders' hand suddenly engulfed hers, squeezing gently.
"True. But I'll gladly trade a meal to see smiles like that - those kids need a moment of happiness." Zoya watched the children wistfully as they scampered across the market. She sighed heavily. "Well, we better be on our way. The Pearl awaits."
"You know, if you're still feeling generous, forty silver once we get to the Pearl would be all it takes to put a smile on my face and give me far longer than a moment of happiness."
She raised a delicate eyebrow, regarding him quietly for a moment before delivering a playful jab to his gut that nearly doubled him over.
Anders muttered just loud enough for her to hear. "I guess I deserved that."
"Yeah, you really did." She rose up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips against his stubbled cheek before sauntering away.