Chapter 16 - Raindrops on Roses

Anders breathed a sigh of relief when they finally rode through the Vigil's gates. For all that he should be enjoying his newfound freedom, he positively hated sleeping on the cold, hard ground. He had become far too accustomed to the trappings of luxuries the Tower offered, one of the sole concessions available to the mages confined in that horrible place.

It's no wonder most of us are as soft as newborn kittens, Anders thought with an inward snort.

Then of course, mages didn't need to be strong, did they? They had other abilities to protect themselves, and most of them were far too used to using magic for even the simplest of tasks to bother with the physical. Indeed, most would hardly be able to function if their talents were suddenly stripped from them, a fact that made the templars all the more powerful in his mind.

Anders had come to the Tower later in life than most of the kids that were taken there, and so he had never allowed himself to go soft like so many of the others. He had been proud of his physical prowess…until his conscription that is. Even now his ass was numb from the long hours on horseback, and his entire body was sore from the uncomfortable sleeping situation while on the road. He shot an envious look at his companions, all of whom looked comfortable and relaxed despite the lack of creature comforts over the past couple of days. He also noted the quiet conversation Falcon and Nate were having and scowled as he remembered that their ease of travel was not the only reason he had to be jealous.

He didn't know what Nate had said to her in Amaranthine, but whatever it was had changed things between them. He was also certain that Howe finally admitted to himself that he wanted her, and was even now campaigning to win her right out from under his nose. He was determined not to let that happen. Not now when he had only just admitted his own feelings to himself.

He hadn't known what to say or how to act around her after he discovered his…attachment. Especially after Oghren's revelation of her past, and after he found her standing in the middle of her room clutching her wounded hand behind her back like a naughty child. That had been a shock. Anders had never been in love, and so could only guess at the depth of her pain, but to do something so downright stupid as to cause self-inflicted injury? That he could never understand. Yet it had been two years since her lover died. Surly she should be over him by now? The whole situation was mind boggling. He only knew that he wanted to permanently wipe the haunted look from her eyes. He wanted to see the return of the woman Oghren had said she once was, and he desperately wanted to take her in his arms and never let go.

Anders had casually begun to flirt with her once they left the city, and even thought he had been making good progress until he noticed the burgeoning friendship between his two companions. The worst part of it was that he was actually beginning to like Howe now that he was on speaking terms with the rest of them. It was unfortunate that they wanted the same woman...though he had to admit that the man had good taste.

The cherry on top was that Howe had quite the unfair advantage. He was noble-born, the same as she, and had known the Commander since childhood (Anders asked him once what she was like as a child. His only answer—in typical Nathaniel fashion—was simply that she had been "annoying"). They were both rogues, so they could relate tactically in battle, and now it seemed they had a shared hatred of the late Arl. That was something her certainly never expected. Not after Nate's past behavior.

While he was mulling all this over in his mind they had dismounted and walked their horses into the Vigil's well-appointed barn. Varel came out to greet them, swiftly pulling Falcon aside…no doubt to discuss the details of his summons. Anders expected the conversation to be a heated one, but neither of them raised their voices or showed any signs of irritation. He glanced over at them curiously from time to time as he helped the stable boy strip Reynolds of his tack. He affectionately patted the bay on his broad neck before joining Oghren and Nate by the open doors. Falcon wrapped up her conversation shortly thereafter and headed over to debrief them.

"It appears that I shall have to play Arlessa this afternoon," she told them with a wry grin. "The Senechal was unsure of how I wanted to handle court proceedings and didn't wish to make such a decision without my consent. Considering the nature of some of the claims, it is best that I am here."

"Do we need to be present, Commander?" Anders asked curiously.

"As this is not a Grey Warden matter it's unnecessary for you to be there. However, if you are interested you are more than welcome to attend. Otherwise, the day is yours. Just be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Anders silently groaned at these words. He had hoped that they would have more time before heading back out though he was hardly surprised she wanted to get back to it as soon as possible. If nothing else could be said about Falcon, she was certainly a woman who took her responsibilities seriously.

If only they could stay at a nice comfortable inn instead of camping in the middle of nowhere. And why was it that he always ended up choosing the most uncomfortable bit of earth to place his bedroll? He still had a particularly tender spot at the base of his spine where a rock had been prodding at him relentlessly last night. The only thing that would make camping palatable would be if he had a warm and willing woman wrapped within his arms. His pulse quickened as his imagination took over and the image of he and Falcon sharing a tent floated before his eyes.

He had an hour to burn before court began, so Anders decided that he would head up to his chambers. He felt an overwhelming sense of belonging as he walked through the Vigil's courtyard and was greeted warmly by all that past by him. He headed up the stairs and through the winding halls leading to what was once the family quarters. Falcon insisted that they each have a room in the larger, more comfortable area of the keep, away from the common guards and castle staff. He thought at first that she did this just to keep tabs on them, but perhaps she simply felt safer knowing that they were close at hand. Either way, it felt good to be home, even if it was to be a short-lived stay.

Home.

Anders stopped in his tracks as the word flitted through his thoughts. When had he begun to consider Vigil's Keep as home? It was a concept that was, up until this moment, as foreign to him as the words "love" and "family" had always been. The Tower had never been a home to him. They could dress it up all they like, but it would always remain a prison, and he was so far removed from his time before the Circle that he could barely remember what it had been like to live a normal life. Yet the Vigil was his home now, and as long as they didn't all get killed by the darkspawn, it would remain his home until his Calling came. Though he always shied away from anything so…permanent…it strangely felt right. He knew at once that he belonged here. This…being a Grey Warden…was what he was meant to do, meant to be. For once he could use the full spectrum of his abilities without fearing a reprisal, and though being a Grey Warden had some major disadvantages, it was somehow…fulfilling.

Entering his chambers, Anders was pleasantly surprised to see that a bath had been drawn for him. I could certainly get used to this, he thought as he shrugged out of his clothes and sank into the soapy water with a contented sigh. The hot water was utterly relaxing, smoothing out his sore muscles and jangled nerves. He released his hair from its leather thong and ran his fingers through the tangled, golden locks as he let his mind wander. It was the best bath he had in a very long time.

Once his fingers began to prune and the water grew cold, he dried off and changed into a fresh pair of robes. When he was content with his appearance, he left his chambers and nearly collided with Nathaniel in the hallway.

"Heading to the Great Hall as well?" Anders asked after they both mumbled their apologies.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm surprised you're attending. I wasn't aware that you were interested."

Anders shrugged.

"I'm merely curious, having never experienced such proceedings before. I assume you've attended court before your time in the Free Marches?"

"Yes, as well as the Landsmeet held in Denerim. As I was meant to inherit, my Father felt it was important that I learn the subtle nuances of Fereldan law and politics from an early age…then of course his idea of justice, as it turns out, was substantially different than my own," Nathaniel said with a scowl.

Anders arched his eyebrows in surprise. This was the first time Howe had ever volunteered such personal information. The man had certainly loosened up since his conscription, though Anders still felt he had a stick firmly shoved up his ass. He wondered if this was a product of stress or if it was just a part of his nature.

As they entered the Great Hall Anders could hear the murmuring of cultured voices and noticed the substantial crowd of people waiting for court to begin. Falcon was nowhere in sight. He and Nathaniel positioned themselves along the balcony that ran around the room in a half circle overlooking the hall below. It would give them an eagle's-eye view of the proceedings. Shortly, the Senechal positioned himself on the dais and raised a hand in a call for silence.

"All rise! The Warden-Commander and liege lord of all Amaranthine enters!" Varel called as Falcon entered the hall and stood beside him.

She was wearing ceremonial plate armor with a silver griffon emblazed on the chest plate that gleamed in the firelight. No doubt the Commander wished to remind her vassals exactly who and what she was. Like they were likely to forget, Anders thought in wry amusement.

He watched intently as the session began, but soon grew bored. It seemed like the same complaints over and over again, only with different names and faces to go with the sob stories. He admired her fairness, even when he thought she might make an emotional choice over a rational one (and in some cases no one would have blamed her if she had). She kept her expression even, her voice and posture regal and powerful as she passed judgment on one case after another.

"She's pretty good at this," Anders murmured to Nathaniel.

"Good? She was born to this," he replied though he kept his eyes on Falcon.

Of course she was you bloody idiot, Anders said to himself. He had forgotten once again that the Commander was noble-born, and not only that, but from one of the most prominent families in all of Fereldan. From what little she had told him of her Father, it would make sense that the Teryn would have her educated in such matters.

Captain Garavel suddenly entered the hall and bowed before Falcon and Varel before approaching them. He had a short, low-voiced conversation with both of them before positioning himself on Falcon's left. Curious, Anders thought, perking at the change of pace.

"Bring forth Ser Temmerly the Ox!" Varel's voice echoed through the hall.

Nathaniel stiffened beside Anders, his steely gaze hardening as a large man in soiled plate armor was escorted into the room.

"You know this guy?" Anders asked him.

"Unfortunately," Nathaniel replied in harsh, clipped tones. "He's a bully and an elitist. Just the sort of man my Father would have approved of."

"What are the charges?" Falcon asked as she eyed the man before her.

"Ser Temmerly stands accused of a murder most foul," Garavel practically growled as he narrowed his eyes at Ser Temmerly. "You and your men came upon Ser Tamara in the dead of the night and did cravenly ambush her."

Ser Tamara, Ser Tamara…why does that name sound familiar? Anders thought as he leaned forward to better hear the exchange below them.

"You dare too much, Captain Garavel. I am of noble blood, and will not submit to your accusations," the Ox sneered.

Yes, but it's not him you need to convince jackass, Anders thought with a snort.

"You are accused of murder, ser! My soldiers found you fleeing whilst Ser Tamara's blood was still hot!" Garavel cried, his face contorting with rage.

"There's a great deal of traffic on the roads these days. Not all of it's human. And it's so dangerous at night. We were merely in a hurry to reach a nice, safe place," Temmerly replied, his voice dripping with derision.

"You mock this court with your denials!" Garavel seethed, taking a step forward as his hand automatically went to the hilt of his long sword. Falcon stopped him with one hand, shooting Garavel a look that made him fall back into place.

"You have nothing, Captain. Release me, Commander. It's this common lout's word against mine," the Ox said in quiet triumph.

Falcon turned to consult Varel before she passed judgment, as she had for each of the other cases that had gone before this one.

"Ser Tamara was the one who warned us about a conspiracy against the Commander!" Anders hissed in surprise as he suddenly remembered the woman who approached him at the fealty ceremony looking for an audience with Falcon.

"What's this about a conspiracy?" Nathaniel asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Oh, that's right. You were skulking somewhere in a dark corner that night," Anders said with a wicked grin.

"I was not—just tell me what the hell you're talking about!" Nathaniel growled.

"Ser Tamara told Falcon and I that she had evidence that there was a plot forming against her. Letters, I believe. She didn't have them at the ceremony as she wasn't even sure Falcon would speak with her, but she agreed to bring them to the Vigil for Varel to review. I guess she was right on target, poor lass."

"So it appears," Nathaniel murmured, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Falcon doesn't seem very concerned about it, though," Anders added, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Be that as it may, I think we should keep our eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. No doubt her conspirators know what she is capable of. They are unlikely to use the usual methods to take her out."

"Usual? This sort of thing happens often?" Anders asked in surprise.

"It's politics, Anders. Many nobles feel they are above the law and wouldn't think twice about taking what they want…by any means."

"Like your Father?" Anders asked before he could think better of it.

"Yes. Like my Father," Nathaniel answered quietly.

"Ser Temmerly," Falcon called as she turned back to the man with a determined gleam in her eye. "Because of the seriousness of the charges brought against you this court has decided that a further investigation is called for. You are to be imprisoned until further notice."

"What is the meaning of this? You can't do this! I am of noble blood. I refuse to be incarcerated like a…like a common criminal!" the Ox bellowed, his face turning red with rage as he struggled against the grasp of the guards who had taken his arms to lead him away.

"You forget who you speak to," Falcon pronounced in a clear, regal voice as her spine stiffened and her chin went up a notch.

Anders gasped at the effect the slight movement made. If he ever again forgot who and what she was, he only had to remember the way she looked in this moment. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Falcon stepped down from the dais and leaned down to say something in Ser Temmerly's ear. Anders strained to hear her words, but doubted anyone beyond the Ox could hear them. Whatever she said made the large man's face go completely white, his eyes dilating in fear before the guards ushered him away.

"Hmm, I wonder what she said to him," Anders speculated out loud.

"Hell, I could tell ye that, sparkle-fingers," Oghren said as he leaned on the banister next to Anders.

"When did you get here?" Anders asked in surprise.

"Jest came down a few minutes ago. Got turned around lookin' fer the john and ended out here instead," Oghren said with a shrug.

"And you heard what she said?"

"Nah, but I can lip read…what?" he replied nonchalantly as Anders and Nathaniel both stared at him in shock.

"That's a remarkably useful talent, Oghren," Nathaniel said after a moment.

"Aye, that it is. Saved my skin a time or two."

"So, what did she tell him?" Anders asked curiously.

"She said: 'Your claim of nobility carries no wait here, Temmerly. To be noble is more than just a title. I know as well as you that you murdered that poor woman. You would do well to confess your crime. Name your conspirators and I'll be lenient, name them not and, well…let's just say that you don't spend a year fighting darkspawn without learning a thing or two about making someone's life a living hell. Make no mistake, I will learn who they are, I will find them, and I will kill them,'" Oghren repeated, making a decent effort to mimic Falcon's cultured tones.

"Remind me never to get on Falcon's bad side," Anders murmured with a shudder.

"Duly noted," Nathaniel replied with a thoughtful expression of his own.

"Ooh, read the lips of the pretty brunette standing by Lord Edellbrek," Anders said excitedly.

Oghren narrowed his eyes at the woman for a moment, and then turned his gaze back to Anders.

"She's wonderin' if the Commander's single and willin' te share in some late night 'extracurricular activities' if ye get my meanin'."

"Really?" Anders squeaked, perking up as the image of Falcon and the voluptuous brunette…together…flashed through his mind.

"Ha! Fooled you, ye man-skirt wearin' freak!" Oghren guffawed, slapping Anders' back good naturedly before taking his leave.

"Bloody dwarf," Anders grumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

By then most of the crowd had filed out of the hall and the rest of the evening was spread out before him carte blanche. Only, he hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with his time. After aimlessly wandering the grounds and grabbing a quick bite to eat, Anders was left bored and wondering what exactly Wardens did when they weren't killing darkspawn. It was the only explanation, in his mind, that had him agreeing to a game of chess with Oghren in the Vigil's spacious library.

Anders had to hand it to the dwarf. Even in a drunken state Oghren was soundly kicking his ass. He was concentrating so hard on the game at hand that he hadn't even heard Falcon enter the room let alone approach them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she cleared her throat.

"Uh…hi, Commander. What's up?" he asked.

He noticed that she had changed out of the ceremonial armor and into a simple, cream-colored dress and a light-weight cloak snuggly wrapped around her shoulders. The dark material was beaded with tiny drops of water, no doubt from the ever-changing Amaranthine weather. When he arched an eyebrow in question she reached into the folds of her cloak and dumped something small and furry on the chessboard in front of him. The orange ball of fluff rolled over and two large, yellow eyes blinked up at him curiously. It stood and took a couple of cautious steps towards Anders, delicately sniffed the air in his direction, and opened its pink little mouth to let out a small mew that melted his heart into a puddle of goo.

"Aww, look at the cute little kitty!" Anders crooned as he wiggled a finger at the tabby. "Who's the pretty kitty?"

The cat eyed his finger wearily at first and then promptly pounced on it, its small teeth pricking at his skin. Anders chuckled, delighting in the kitten's antics.

"He's yours…if you want him that is," Falcon said as she smiled at him.

"You're giving me a cat?" Anders asked, blinking in surprise.

"Well, yes. I saw him wandering around the courtyard and remembered the story you told me about the cat you befriended in the tower."

"Poor Mr. Wiggums," Anders murmured sadly.

"Yes, well I thought perhaps the little guy could be something of a replacement. He's not of the darkspawn-killing variety, but no doubt you could teach him that in time," she continued with a sparkle in her eye.

"I—" he began, but wasn't quite sure what to say.

She gave me a cat…she remembered what I said and gave me a cat, he thought fervently as elation swept through him. Before he could think better of it he jumped up from his chair and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," he breathed into her ear.

Immediately he was assaulted by her warm, clean sent and reveled in the feeling of her soft body pressed to his. This has to be heaven, he thought as he sighed in pleasure and squeezed his arms even tighter around her. Now, if he could just dip his head a little lower, he could taste the sensitive skin just behind her ear…

"Anders, air!" Falcon wheezed at him.

"Oh…right. Sorry," he stuttered as he let her go and took a step back in embarrassment.

Sitting back down at the chessboard before Falcon noticed his body's reaction to hers; Anders picked up the tabby and looked him straight in the eye.

"Now what shall I name you, hmm?" he cooed. "It would have to be a distinguished name for such a feisty lad. I know! I'll call you Ser-Pounce-a-lot!"

"Really, Anders?" Falcon asked as she arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"Hey, boss. Where's my gift?" Oghren interrupted.

Anders snorted, but then dropped his mouth open when Falcon threw him a sack.

"Mackay's single malt," she told him as Oghren pulled out a heavy decanter filled with amber liquor.

"That looks fine indeed, he-he," Oghren chuckled as he opened the bottle and took a swig. "Mmm, smoother than an Elvin babe's bottom."

Okay, no reason to be alarmed. She gives Oghren booze all of the time, Anders thought, though is heart dipped a little despite himself. For a moment he thought that she had singled him out, but at least she hadn't given Howe a gift, right? His good spirits returned at the thought.

"Hey, Lex? Can I talk to you a moment?" Nate's voice called from the doorway.

He was holding a bow in his hand, partially wrapped in a bolt of cloth. Damn, Anders thought with a scowl. Then again…a bow is a serviceable item. Perhaps she thought he needed a new one? That' it. He needed new equipment. Not at all a sentimental gift.

Anders pulled Ser-Pounce-a-Lot into his lap and began to scratch his furry little head to distract himself. The tabby stretched out on his lap and began to purr loudly in response. Anders tried to turn his attention back to the chess game, but he could not help but listen to the quiet conversation between Nate and Falcon.

"Might I assume that it was you who left this in my bedchamber?" Nate asked her as they sat in a set of chairs near the fire.

"Yes. I saw the Howe crest engraved in the wood and thought you might like to have it."

"Where did you find it?"

"In the basement. I went back after we…cleared it out, and found it tucked away. I would have given it to you sooner, but I had Master Wade restore it for you, just in case you might want to use it. That's alright isn't it?" she asked, her eyes growing weary.

"It's perfect," he replied hoarsely, squeezing her hand. "It was my grandfather's bow, you know. He, too, was a Grey Warden."

"I hadn't heard that," she said, obviously surprised.

"Yes, well, it wasn't exactly common knowledge. He joined the order before it returned to Fereldan, just after the war. Never contacted his family again, just vanished. Now that I know about the joining…I think he died."

"Many good men and women die in the Joining," she replied softly.

"I know that now. Father always said he was a horrible man for abandoning the family to join a pointless cause. I grew up ashamed of my grandfather, but now I see his bravery. That will take some getting used to," Nate said, shaking his head.

"So…that is why you were so angry at me for conscripting you," she murmured.

"Yes," he replied with a nod. "Or at least in part. I was brought up to despise the Wardens, and could not believe that I was to become the very thing my father hated most in this world. Just another thing he was wrong about. At any rate, I'm glad that you forced my hand. Thank you…and thank you for giving me my grandfather's bow. It means more to me than I can say."

"You're quite welcome, Nate, and I am glad that you have come to see the Order in a different light," she said as she stood.

By this point Anders was confused and disheartened. The hope that had sprung from her spontaneous gift had fizzled into uncertainty.

"So, Falcon…what's with the sudden generosity?" he found himself asking her, inwardly wincing as Oghren and Nathaniel both turned to glare at him.

She faltered, looking between the three of them, and then sighed.

"I simply wanted to show you my appreciation for your support over these past weeks, especially in Amaranthine. I haven't really been fair to any of you. I let my emotions overtake my common sense in battle, a mistake I hope never to repeat. You were right. We need to trust each other…implicitly. We are a far cry from any other organization, and not simply because of what we fight, or the secrets we must keep. There is more tying us together than our duty. We our bound by our tainted blood and no matter what happens, as long as we live, nothing can break that bond. I lost track of that, and for this, I am truly sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, Commander. You've been through a lot. Besides, we haven't exactly made it easy on you," Anders replied, throwing her a lop-sided grin and a wink.

She laughed heartily at that, making her face light up and her cheeks flush prettily. Anders felt almost giddy with the pleasure her reaction gave him. How did he not notice how infectious her laughter was before?

"I think I'll retire for the evening, as should all of you. Early day tomorrow," she called as she crossed the room to the door.

"Yes, mum!" Anders teased.

Falcon stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to chuckle as she waved and left the room. Anders shook his head in amazement. The woman never ceased to surprise him.

Nathaniel left shortly thereafter, once again leaving Oghren and Anders to themselves. He tried to concentrate on the game, but his mind kept wandering to Falcon. If Oghren noticed his distraction, he didn't comment on it. They sat in comfortable silence for nearly a quarter of an hour before Anders spoke up once again.

"Oghren?"

"Sparkles?"

"I want to call off our bet," Anders replied, making the dwarf meet his eyes for the first time all night.

"What! Why?" Oghren crowed.

"It just doesn't seem right anymore. And besides, if she were to ever find out, she'd probably chop off both our manly bits and feed them to Hector."

Oghren stared at him in shock for a long moment, and then guffawed in amusement.

"Ancestor's tits! Yer in love with her, aren't ye?" Oghren hooted once he caught his breath.

"L-love is such a strong word," Anders stuttered, flushing red.

"And yet ye do, don't ya', kid? Ooh, boy! This jest keeps gettin' better n' better. Double or nothin' Howe gets to her first," Oghren crowed as he rubbed his hands together in delight.

Anders sputtered, his face turning redder and redder as he struggled to find the words.

"Don't get yer panties all in a twist, mage. I'm jest yankin' ye around. Consider our bet null in void. Jest, uh…take it easy on her, Anders. Her heart's on the mend, but I'm not sure she's ready to let another in jest yet," Oghren said, his face falling into serious lines as he spoke.

Anders was shocked. Oghren had never called him by name. He knew the dwarf did so on purpose just to prove how serious he was. He had to smile a little at that. He didn't know what Falcon did to earn such loyalty from Oghren, but he had to respect the dwarf's protective nature. He also noticed that he hadn't told him to stay away from Falcon, only to be careful with her. From Oghren that was practically an endorsement.

He remembered how Falcon had felt in his arms, and his heart began to pound in time with Pounce's purring. Now if only he could convince her that she belonged there…

Tiny claws jabbing into his thighs interrupted his musings. Anders looked down at the cat and his heart melted all over again as Pounce stared up at him expectantly.

"What do you think, kitty?" Anders murmured.

Ser-Pounce-a-Lot mewed, and then promptly relieved himself in Anders' lap.

*Muse Tunes: "The Grey Havens" by Howard Shore (Return of the King OST) and "I Had a Destiny" by Alan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST).