Chapter 8 – Many Meetings
They found the warehouse easily, just as Anders had predicted. For a moment the thought that it had been a little too easy crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Falcon turned to him as they stopped in front of the plain clapboard door that led to their destination.
"You ready?" she asked as she eyed him questioningly. Anders nodded, unable to form words past the lump that lodged itself inside his throat. She squeezed his arm reassuringly before turning to try the door latch. Surprisingly it was unlocked.
The warehouse was little more than one large room, empty save for some chests and crates haphazardly scattered about. A cluttered desk stood at one end of the chamber, a lit candelabra sitting amongst a pile of torn ledgers the only source of light in the entire room.
"Is it just me or does anyone else find it a bit strange that there are no guards to greet us?" Nathaniel murmured beside him.
"Perhaps they don't want to draw attention to the cache?" Anders replied nervously, his eyes flickering from one end of the room to the next.
"Yeah, and I'm the Empress of Orlais," Oghren snorted.
Anders scowled at the dwarf though he had to admit that not even he believed his own words. There was definitely something wrong here. They could all sense it.
"Come lads, let's make this quick…and keep your wits about you. This place reeks of trouble." Falcon ordered.
"You don't have to tell me twice," Anders muttered beside her.
They split up, carefully sifting through the contents of every crate, barrel and chest to be found. Although they discovered a few useful magical objects it soon became clear that there were no phylacteries to be found here. But why did Namaya think there was? Anders thought as he desperately tried to keep his frustration from showing.
Glancing up he saw Falcon eyeing a doorway leading to another part of the building. It was a narrow archway, barely more than a slit in the wall, which would explain why he hadn't noticed it upon their entry. From this angle he could see a light flickering dimly just through the opening. He joined the Commander as she cautiously reached for her blades, the soft slither of steel against steel causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. Nathaniel and Oghren silently fell in behind them, each with their own weapons in hand.
They walked into a second, smaller room that appeared to be just as empty as the first, dashing what was left of Anders' hopes. The phylacteries were definitely not here, but something else definitely was…someone else to be exact.
"You can come out now, "he called smugly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned up against the wall. Three templars slowly appeared from various hiding places across the room, their leader appearing last from the shadow of a door in the far back corner.
"You!" Falcon hissed as she recognized the cold, hard features of Ser Rylcok, the female templar who had been hunting Anders when she had conscripted him.
"And here I almost believed the infamous Anders wouldn't take the bait," Rylock purred over-sweetly, shooting him a malicious smile as she crossed the room to stand in front of him.
"Ha! Yes, I suppose I should've known it would be you," he replied, every word dripping with sarcasm. "The phylacteries were never here, were they?"
"Oh, they were here. Sadly, they have been moved to another location. I knew you would never be able to resist their siren's call, Anders. You are far too predictable," she began, baring her teeth at him like a rabid mabari. She soon turned her malice on Falcon, her eyes snapping with self-righteousness. "You made a poor choice with this one, Commander. Anders will never submit, not to us…and not to you."
"He has made a fine Grey Warden thus far," Falcon said coolly, the only proof that her temper was waning coming from the faint twitching of a muscle in her jaw. Anders had noticed the reflex on occasion in their travels and knew that bloodshed usually followed that minute movement. He tried not to smirk.
"I have no doubt," Rylock replied with narrowed eyes. "Nevertheless, I am here to make sure this murderer won't bother anyone again."
"What? You can't arrest me! The Queen allowed my conscription!" Anders cried as he shot straight up, the cocky smile on his face dropping into an angry scowl.
"The Chantry's authority supersedes the crown in this matter. You cannot hide within the Grey Warden's ranks," Rylock spat, drawing her sword.
"No, he stays with us," Falcon replied calmly, causing Anders' heart to jump into his throat. Aww, she wants to keep me, his inner-voice cooed dreamily, despite the glares of the angry templars preparing to either drag him off or kill them all.
"Hardly surprising. The Grey Warden's have ever been a haven for criminals and maleficar," Rylock seethed. "I don't know how you inspire such loyalty, Anders, but it will avail you not. Now, you come with us!"
The rest of the templars drew their weapons just as Rylock jumped forward to grab Anders, but she hadn't counted on the Commander stepping in before she reached him. Rylock swung her sword with a frustrated growl, but Falcon had bent backwards out of the reach of her blade before the blow could connect. She swung her body back up in time to cross swords with the angry templar with a bone-jarring clang. Ciaos ensued as the room erupted with the sounds of combat.
Anders raised his staff, but before he could cast he could feel the sickening precursor of magic-draining energy. There was not enough time to react. Instead, he prepared himself for impact as the smite simultaneously threw him backwards into the wall and drained him of all his mana. He could hear the templar laugh, his plate armor clinking as he approached the fallen mage. Glancing up he could see the man was nearly as big as a qunari and twice as ugly.
Anders could feel the anger coursing through his body. He hated the black, sucking feeling that always came with being smited, and he hated the feeling of being powerless, especially against a templar. He noted the snide, twisted smile on the face of his tormenter as he raised his sword over his head, preparing to bring it down on Anders's head. With a bellow the templar swung his heavy, two-handed blade, but met only air as Anders rolled out of the way and nimbly hopped up onto his feet. He swung again and again, but the mage continued to elude him. Anders twirled his staff through his fingers, studying the man like he'd seen Falcon do during her demonstration at the Vigil. He struck with the blunt end of his staff; once to the templar's jaw and once to his midsection. The man crumpled in half, moaning with pain. With one last swift move he swiped the staff across the templar's plated legs, causing the man to fall with a satisfying clank. He twirled the staff again, pointing it at the templar's head, but before he could consider his next move an axe came down across the man's thick neck, effectively separating his head from his body. Anders' shot a look at Oghren, a frown creasing his face as he watched the dwarf reclaim his weapon.
"Hey, I had this one handled!" Anders complained.
Oghren snorted in disbelief.
"Maybe ye would've if ye weren't so busy twirlin' that fancy stick o' yours," Oghren growled. "If yer gonna kill the old fashioned way, son, skip the bull-shite en go straight for the jugular. Otherwise, when yer fingers ain't so twinkly, leave the slayin' to the real men."
Anders face turned crimson in rage.
"Enough! Oghren, leave him be," Falcon snapped. "Anders, ignore him. It doesn't matter who did the killing. The battle is over and we are all still alive. That should suffice for the both of you."
"Yes, Commander," they both muttered.
Anders glanced around the room until he saw Rylock lying a few feet away in a puddle of her own blood. He stalked over to her, looking down at her twisted body and smirked.
"Good riddance, you spiteful bitch," he murmured, kicking her armor-plated arm for good measure.
After all these years, he could hardly believe that he was finally free of her. Out of all the templars that had hunted him, none of them had done so with as much relish as Ser Rylock. She was a rarity in and of itself, female templars being few and far between, but he could never truly understand the obsession she had developed over the years. His vanity would make him believe that a secret part of her had found him wildly attractive, but the more reasonable answer was that she was affronted by the idea of a mage free of the Circle. Plus it was the reason that was least likely to make him want to vomit.
"Do you suppose your friend knew about the trap?" Falcon asked him, interrupting his musings.
"Namaya? I don't think so, but I guess it really doesn't matter," he replied distractedly as he continued to stare down at Rylock's still form.
"I am sorry about your phylactery, but know that as long as you are loyal to the Wardens, you will never need fear a Chantry intervention. Though Ser Rylock did not comprehend the import of your conscription, the Grand Cleric certainly does. She knows better than to interfere in Warden business, and she further knows that any said interference would cause a great deal of grief for both herself and the Chantry," Falcon said with a small, wicked smile. "One of the few perks of being the Hero of Fereldan."
Anders chuckled, imagining an angry Falcon storming the Grand Cleric's office. It was strange to think that such a pint-sized woman could cause so much trouble, but whereas she was physically small, her temper certainly was not. He was reminded that there was a reason why she held such a title in the first place.
"Thank you, Commander, for everything," he said after awhile, smiling down at her with all the warmth that he felt. "You stood by me and I appreciate it."
"No need to thank me, Anders. We are friends, are we not? Friends stick up for each other," she replied with a smile of her own.
"I…suppose they do," he murmured, his stomach fluttering again at her words.
Heat whirled through his senses, melting the last remnants of his carefully built defenses. Anders could suddenly see the reason why so many men made fools of themselves when it came to certain members of the opposite sex. It was a breakthrough he wasn't quite ready to fully comprehend, but he could feel the beginning of something altogether different building up within him.
"By the way, you did well today. You were at a disadvantage and took the initiative. I wonder…would you be willing to learn the ways of an Arcane Warrior?" she asked abruptly.
"What?"
She laughed but readily repeated herself as he shook his head free of the emotions that had clouded his mind.
"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, confusion written across his face.
"I learned of it while traveling through the Brecilian forest during the blight. I can teach you…if you are willing to learn," she replied, then chuckled at the expression on his face. "I know what you are thinking, but no, I cannot practice such skills myself. I can, however, give you the knowledge, as it was given to me."
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn how to fight with a blade if it came down to it. Very well, I accept."
"Good," she said simply, patting him on the shoulder. "Now, let's clean up and get out of here before the city guard show up. I'd rather not have to explain why I'm covered in templar blood."
A short time later they walked back into the busy market place, all evidence of their confrontation with Ser Rylock and her goons as good as gone. They browsed a couple of the stalls and traded in some of their loot, but the Commander insisted on finding the Merchant's Guild before arranging for supplies. It was there that they met Mervis, a man who begged them to stop the caravan attacks on the Pilgrim's Path. He droned on and on about destroyed carts and "monsters" lurking in the shadows, but Anders was hardly paying attention.
Why is it that everyone wants us to fix their problems? He thought disgustedly as he sat heavily on a low-lying wall. He produced a crisp, red apple from within his robes and took a large bite, noisily chewing as he stared off into space. Nathaniel caught his eye and flashed him a look that clearly said, 'You should be paying attention to this, half-wit.' Anders smiled cheekily at him before taking yet another bite of the succulent fruit.
"And you assume darkspawn are to blame?" he heard Falcon ask as Mervis stopped to catch his breath.
"We don't know for sure, but whatever it is, it's completely crippled trade between Amaranthine and Denerim. No one wants to risk traveling through the Wending Wood," Mervis said seriously.
"I shall look into it as soon as possible," she promised him.
"Oh, thank you Commander! If you can stop the killings the guild will ensure that you and your men are properly rewarded. You have my word on it," Mervis crowed as he pumped her hand enthusiastically in gratitude. Anders rolled his eyes as he stood and chucked the apple core across the street.
"Really, how can you stand it, Falcon?" Anders asked her as soon as they were out of earshot. "Please Commander! Rescue my kidnapped daughter! Save us Commander! Smugglers are taking over the city! Won't you rescue my kitten from that very tall tree over there? You only have to scale the tallest mountain peek and then swing across a pit of fire-breathing nugs!"
He had her laughing hysterically at his comical rendition and had Oghren and Nathaniel scowling at him in the process. Three for the price of one, he thought smugly.
"Really mage, must you make a joke of everything?" Nathaniel growled as he crossed his arms in front of him. It was becoming a nearly permanent pose for the rogue.
Anders opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by a timid female voice calling Nathaniel's name. They all turned to see a slim woman wringing her hands, just a stone's throw away. She was young and pretty with short, raven hair and dancing grey eyes that were surprisingly familiar.
"Delilah?" Nathaniel gasped, his face draining of color as he stared at the woman.
"Nate!" the woman cried, flashing a stunning smile as she launched herself into Nathaniel's arms, leaving the rest of them slack-jawed in shock.
Howe has a woman? Anders thought incredulously. How is that fair? The man couldn't be moodier if he tried…unless that's what women like. Maker! I hope that's not what women like.
When Nathaniel released her the woman named Delilah stepped back just far enough to briefly cup his face in her small hands. Unshed tears made her eyes shine brightly as her gaze lovingly shifted over his features. Nathaniel looked uncomfortable at her scrutiny, but stood as still as a statue as she studied him.
"I can't believe you're really here! After all this time, without a word…we thought the worst," Delilah said before her face crumbled and she punched him in the shoulder. "Why didn't you write and let us know you were alright!"
"Ow! I'm sorry! After hearing of how…I had thought…well, it hardly matters now what I thought," he began haltingly.
"You thought I was dead, didn't you?" she asked softly. "Poor brother, coming home to such tidings; but as you can see, I am alive and well."
Ah, sibling, not lover, Anders noted, though he felt a little silly for not noticing the family resemblance right away.
"Times must have been hard, Delilah. Come back with us to the Vigil, at least until we can find a place of our own," he said, grabbing her arm.
"Nate, stop! I'm a married woman. I can't leave with you!"
"Yes, I had heard that, but I thought—"
"You thought what? That I had no other choice? I didn't marry Albert out of desperation. I love him!" she cried, brushing his hand away. She sighed at the brief flash of hurt that crossed over his features. Leaning up she tenderly brushed a dark lock of hair from out of his eyes. "Come, brother. Sit with me awhile. There is much we need to speak of."
"I wish it was that simple, but my time is not my own. If—"
"If you wish to visit with your sister, you need only ask," Falcon interjected from behind them, a small, hesitant smile on her face as she peeked around Nathaniel's shoulder.
"My word, Alyx? Is that really you?" Delilah gasped, her face breaking out into another wide grin. It took Anders a moment to realize that the woman was talking to Falcon. He had nearly forgotten her true name. Alyxandria, he reminded himself.
"Guilty as charged," the Commander said with a small, nervous wave.
Delilah let out a small cry of joy as she threw her arms around Falcon. Anders wanted to laugh at the expression on the Commander's face, but he knew better. He had never seen her so uncomfortable and found it quite endearing.
"It's so good to see you old friend! We had thought you had died with your parents, and then Mother wrote me that she saw you in Denerim, just before Father…Oh, Alyx! I'm so sorry for what he did to your family! It was a vile, evil thing and I'm glad that it was you who made him answer for his crimes. I pray you do not blame me or Nate for his actions."
"No, of course not Deli," Alyx replied warmly as she squeezed the other woman's hands in reassurance. "And I'm glad to see you well."
"I wanted to come visit the very moment I heard that you arrived at the Vigil, but I didn't know if you would accept me," Delilah said shyly. "Of course I had no idea that my brother was there…with you…hold on. Why is my brother here with you?"
Nathaniel cleared his throat, his face flushing with embarrassment as Delilah glanced curiously at him, then at the Commander and then back again at him when she didn't find the answer she was looking for in Falcon's expression.
"Nate, what is going on?" she asked quietly.
"I'm a Grey Warden now, sister," Nathaniel replied huskily, his eyes trained somewhere above her head instead of meeting her questioning gaze.
Why on Thedas would Howe be embarrassed about being a Grey Warden? Anders thought curiously. You would think he just announced that he still wets the bed.
"I see," Delilah replied, the corner of her mouth twitching up briefly into a wicked grin. "Which makes 'Little Lexy 'your commanding officer, my dear brother."
Nathaniel groaned at the last bit and Falcon blushed prettily, making Anders wonder exactly what sort of history the moody ex-nobleman had with the Commander. It was obvious by their banter that the siblings had known her well once…before the blight, or at least Delilah certainly had. He found himself trying to picture Falcon as a child, or as anything other than…well, a Commander…but he came up empty every time.
"I am most certainly his Commander, though I'll ask you not to repeat that other bit to anyone," Falcon said to her as she shot Nathaniel a look that made him blush. Delilah laughed delightedly when she saw her brother's face, agreeing with Falcon once she was able to get a hold of herself long enough to respond.
"I missed you, Alyx, truly. We shall have to catch up with each other soon," Delilah insisted.
"Indeed, but I'm sure your brother will want you all to himself this time," she replied, squeezing Delilah's hand once more before turning to Nathaniel. "Nathaniel? Take your time."
"Are you sure, Commander?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes, go…spend some time with your sister. You can meet us back at the inn later," she told him with a smile.
"Thank you," he said with a grateful nod and a broad smile before turning to thread his sister's arm through his. Falcon's jaw dropped, though Anders certainly couldn't blame her for being taken aback. It was the first time any of them had really seen Howe smile since, well, ever.
"Where to now, fearless leader?" Anders asked as Nathaniel disappeared around the corner.
"I'd like to check out the chanter's board while we're here. We could use the extra funds."
"Gah! Must we?"
"Don't worry, Anders. I won't make you actually go inside the chantry," she laughed as they headed in that direction.
The building in question was perhaps the most prominent structures in the entire city, its sweeping architecture and statue-riddled courtyard noticeable from almost any point of view. Anders couldn't help but swallow a moment's hesitation as they approached. No doubt there would be templars…everywhere.
It was not the templars, however, that noticed his presence this time but an all too familiar face that he had certainly not been expecting to see. Anders inwardly groaned.
"Wynne!" Falcon cried, embracing the elderly mage that stood just outside the Chantry doors.
Once again Falcon surprised him, but then he remembered Oghren mentioning the fact that they had traveled with a healer during the blight. He just hadn't realized that they had traveled with the healer, Irving's pet. Slowly Anders backed away, wishing he knew a disappearing spell before the old battleaxe noticed his presence.
"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise!" Wynne replied as she warmly squeezed Falcon's shoulders. "It is good to see you my dear."
"And you, my friend. It has been far too long."
"Indeed it has. I contemplated visiting you at Vigil's Keep, but things…got busy."
"Too busy to pay me a visit?" Falcon pouted.
"I'm afraid so," Wynne chuckled. "The College of the Magi is convening in Cumberland. I must attend if only to bring a semblance of wisdom to the proceedings, but I will make it a point to come see you when the matter at hand is settled."
Anders listened as Wynne filled the Commander in on the details of the troubles brewing within the fraternities of the mages, trying very hard not to make his presence too noticeable to the older mage. Yet he found himself intrigued despite himself.
"The libertarians want to pull away entirely? That's madness! I hate Chantry oversight as much as the next mage, but they can't just decide to leave. This is a recipe for disaster!" he interrupted as Wynne was explaining the situation.
Both Wynne and Falcon looked surprised at his outburst, but Wynne recovered first.
"I wouldn't be too concerned. It is likely to blow over before it even begins, but it wouldn't hurt for you to send a prayer or two to the Maker just in case," Wynne replied with a wink before turning back to Falcon. "Perhaps you could do me a favor if you find yourself in the Wending Wood…"
Wynne asked them to find a well-respected mage by the name of Ines who apparently made a hobby out of rooting around in the dirt for plants or shrubs or what have you…alone…in a darkspawn infested wood…Right, this Ines has to be completely out of her gourd. As if we have nothing better to do than to look for a crazy botanist mage with a death wish, Anders thought.
"'Voice of Reason' my arse," he muttered out loud, gleaning a warning look from the Commander, but Wynne simply laughed.
"I see you have recruited yourself a fine healer, Alyxandria. It makes me breathe a little easier knowing that you'll be looked after in the event of an injury, and knowing you the lad has his work cut out for him."
"You can say that again," Anders chipped in, shooting her a playful look.
"Ha ha, very funny," Falcon said, rolling her eyes. "You know Anders, Wynne?"
"But of course! He was one of my finest pupils…when he decided to show up for class that is," Wynne replied, eyes sparkling with humor.
"Is that so?" Falcon said, cocking an eyebrow at Anders who shrugged nonchalantly.
"Commander, if I might have a moment of your time," a cloistered sister interrupted as she approached their small group. "There's a woman inside the Chantry that I thought you might speak with. Her husband went missing several days ago and I'm afraid she might do herself a harm. None of the others sisters could get through to her, but if you could just speak with her…"
"Say no more," Falcon interrupted, her eyes softening at the sister. "Oghren? Anders? I'll be just a moment. Wynne, please don't leave until I have a chance to say goodbye. Sister, lead the way."
They all nodded before she turned to leave, Falcon murmuring questions to the sister as they entered the chantry. As soon as the door shut behind them, Wynne turned a predatory gaze on Oghren, her lips falling into a hard line. Anders shuddered, recognizing the look from his years in the tower.
"Oghren?"
"Wynne?"
"How is she really?" she asked him quietly.
Oghren sighed, running a beefy hand through his messy, red hair. Anders noticed that the dwarf suddenly looked exhausted and startlingly … sober.
"Some days are better than others. Sometimes I see hints of the old Falcon, and then other times…well. You know her, Wynne. She hides behind her duty like a sodding shield. I thought maybe this new darkspawn threat might take her mind off things, but…" he grumbled, his throat thick with emotion.
"I see. I had hoped, after all this time…but neither am I surprised to hear that not much has changed. Perhaps I'll have to take matters into my own hands," Wynne replied.
"Ye' have a plan, woman?" Oghren asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
"Oh, just a few favors I've been holding on to. I wouldn't worry yourself about it," Wynne replied.
Anders' interest was piqued. They were speaking as if the Commander were ill, though she seemed fine to him if not a tad bit on edge. He assumed the attitude came with the job description, but then again…There was something that neither Wynne nor Oghren were mentioning and he knew better than to think that they would offer him an explanation. Something happened, something big enough to keep quiet about, and it worried him.
"Ready to go?" Falcon asked as she rejoined them, immediately putting a stop to Oghren and Wynne's cryptic conversation.
"Aye, that we are," Oghren replied as Anders nodded in agreement.
"Promise you'll come visit," she said to Wynne as they embraced once more, a look passing between the two women that Anders couldn't comprehend.
"Of course, my dear," Wynne replied warmly before turning to him and Oghren. "And as for you two…take care of her."
"Aye, aye granny," Oghren said with a sloppy salute.
Anders hadn't missed the fact that Wynne had been looking mostly at him while making this last request. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, the other two options being a drunken dwarf and a broody rogue too engrossed in his own bitterness to see what was right in front of him (though he wasn't sure if Nathaniel counted. He hadn't been present for said request). Yet of the three, Anders supposed he was the sanest choice…though that in itself was a scary thought.
You need not worry on that part, Wynne, Anders said to himself, silently vowing to protect the Commander at any cost. She has given me freedom and in return I shall give her my life. A whole army of templars couldn't keep me from her now.
*Muse Tunes: "Is it Poision, Nanny," by Hans Zimmer (Sherlock Holmes OST);"Morgana's Nightmares" by Rohan Stevenson (Merlin: Series Two OST);"Done All Wrong" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club; "Jack Sparrow" by Hans Zimmer (Dead Man's Chest OST); "Daniel and Shauri" by Nicholas Dodd (Stargate OST); "Wattos Deal – Shmi and Qui-Gon Talk" by John Williams (The Phantom Menace OST).