Anders should have felt bad about casting a sleep spell on Hawke but she needed her rest. He couldn't get her armor repaired if she were awake. And he knew just the woman to help. Besides, he didn't have any spare shirts for Kattrin to wear to accompany him through Darktown. He extinguished the lantern after locking the clinic doors.
Lysa had been in his clinic several times as each her five children developed breathing problems from the poor conditions of Darktown. Like most of his patients, she had nothing to pay with but had asked if he found anything she could do to help to please come to her. He hadn't needed her help in the clinic with all of Lirene's volunteers. And she really needed to be home caring for her children. But, she had been a seamstress before she left Fereldan, and if anyone could fix Kattrin's armor, it was her.
He tried very hard not to think about the half-naked woman sleeping in his clinic, wrapped in his blanket. He was supposed to be a healer, but from the moment he had lifted up her shirt it had taken all of his willpower not to stare at her moderate breasts straining against her breast-band. Though, he couldn't stop from noticing how her nipples had pebbled in the cool air. He had distanced himself from her before his need drove him to find out if her skin was as silky as it seemed. How could he feel this way? Since he had merged with Justice almost a year ago, no woman had caught his fancy. He didn't admire, he didn't flirt, and Maker's breath he didn't touch; he just hadn't desired any between-the-sheets encounters. Something about this woman pulled him, almost the same way that the Hero of Fereldan had. He gave himself a mental shake. If he wasn't careful, he would wind up following Kattrin around Kirkwall in the exact same way that he had followed the Warden-Commander around. Like a lovesick puppy.
A new thought made him groan. Kattrin was planning a trip into the Deep Roads and he had volunteered to help her. He was already on the same path for history to repeat itself. How stupid could he be? Not stupid, grateful. Was he really so desperate as to accept help just because it was offered? Or was Justice no longer tamping down his need for a pretty girl? And, Maker, she was beautiful. Her skin was the color of cream contrasting with her black hair, which she had pulled into a chignon, showing off her elegant neck. She had lush, pink lips, high cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes containing sapphires. Plus, she was a mage. And the best part? She was considerate and kind. Andraste's flaming knickers, why did she have to show up in his life now? Why couldn't he have met her a year ago?
Anders realized he was becoming aroused. Even worse, he had been walking Darktown without being aware of his surroundings. Stupid and dangerous. He relied on the refugees not to give him away, asking for nothing in return for healing except to be kept safe from the Templars. But, the Coterie and other thugs still lurked in the Undercity. He'd already been shaken down a couple times by the Coterie which had cost him in healing potions and salves. He didn't have any coin for them to take so they took the only other things of value he had.
Chastising himself, he arrived safely at Lysa's door. He was glad his robes hid any unsightly bulges. He knocked softly, aware of the early hour. She smiled when she saw him darkening her door. That was a pleasant surprise.
"Good morning, healer. What can I help you with?"
"A friend of mine was injured last night. I've taken care of her, but she has very little coin and her armor was damaged. Would—"
"I would be happy to take a look. Please, come in."
She had a tiny, two room hovel but it was clean and warm. Her children were still sleeping around the fire pit in the center of the room. As Lysa took Kattrin's tunic from him, he knelt before each child and placed his hand on each forehead to ensure they were all still in good health. The youngest one, Anders couldn't recall her name, had a bit of a cold. He called up some mana to ease her sleep. He would send one of the boys here with a potion for her.
"Your kindness humbles me, healer. I appreciate all you've done for me and my children. Please, have a seat and enjoy some tea. This won't take but a moment."
He stepped carefully across the room to the rickety chair she offered, but declined the tea. She looked disappointed, so he explained. "I just shared a cup of tea with my friend and if I have another cup I won't be able to sleep."
She shook her head at him. She already had needle and thread and was sewing as she spoke. "You work very hard, healer. You need to take better care of yourself." Having spoken her piece, she hummed a little tune under her breath. He had never come to her with anything because her manner reminded him of his own mother. Even though she didn't look anything like his mother, it still hurt to be reminded.
Before he could sink too far into old and faded memories of the mother he was torn away from, Lysa was finished. Anders smiled at her, "Thank you."
"I said if there was anything I could do to assist you and I meant it. I have a large debt to you and I will work to pay it back," she said proudly.
"I noticed your youngest daughter has a cold. I will send one of the boys by later today with a potion for her. Make sure she takes it with some food."
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "You really are a kind and gentle soul, healer. May the Maker bless you and keep you."
He stood. "May the Maker keep you and your children as well, Lysa."
She opened her door for him, reminding him again that if she could help to please come to her. He bid her another good morning, and re-entered Darktown with her door closing quietly behind him.
His walk back to his clinic was quick and without incident. He was thankful to the refugees' for their diligence in keeping his doors maintained and in working order. He was able to re-enter the clinic without a sound.
And there she was, sleeping soundly and clutching his blanket. He moved away from her to add more logs to the fire. He didn't have another blanket so he wanted as much warmth as he could get. As he made his way back to his cot to pull off his boots, he noticed that her hair was unbound and there was a neat pile of pins on the floor. How…?
He curtailed his curiosity. It was a puzzle for tomorrow—or later today, as it were. If he didn't get some sleep he wouldn't be able to help anyone on the Wounded Coast.
The tunnels were dark.He could feel the tainted darkspawn all around, gaining on him.Panting, he ran until he slipped on something soft and slick.He pinwheeled his arms, trying to keep his balance but he wasn't successful.Flailing, he crashed to the gritty stone floor, scraping his knees then his palms before hitting his head.Sprawled in the rubble, he tried to catch his breath but could only cough from all the dust.Even over the pounding in his head, he could still hear it.
"No!" he cried hoarsely, coughing again.
He tried to get up but slipped again in the putrid pink globes.Pain lanced through his leg.He looked down to see darkness spreading from his torn flesh, painting him different shades of darkness.Agony laced through him and only got worse as it spread.The more the darkness spread, the louder the song became.
He had to get up.He had to find the source of the song.It would drive him mad if he didn't.
No, he had to get out.Only the light would drown out the song.He pushed himself to his feet, but his injured leg wouldn't hold his weight.Collapsing again, he crawled through the dust and rubble and the squelching diseased masses.Finding the wall, he used it to push himself back to his feet.He hobbled as fast as he could, leaning against the tunnel wall.He ignored the way the roughhewn stone tore the flesh of his hands and the way the muscles of his good leg cramped from the strain.He could see the grit on the floor and his blood leaving a trail behind him.He could see the tunnels around him.He was getting closer.
Suddenly, the floor crumbled beneath him and he plummeted back into darkness.He slammed into the ground.He heard the sickening wet crack of his leg breaking and he cried out.His cry was answered with guttural speech and growling.
He was surrounded by darkspawn.They parted to allow a tall, pale emissary to advance.He scrabbled backward, trying to get away but the darkspawn behind him pushed him forward.The song was louder here.He shook his head violently but the sound wouldn't go away.The emissary emitted an evil noise that could only be a laugh.
"You will lead us to the source of the song and we will be rewarded with silence."
"No, I won't help you."
The emissary only laughed again.
"No.I won't give in.I won't help you!"
He bolted upright, sweating and shaking. Everything was so bright. There was someone standing over him. Panic gripped him and he tried jumping up, to get away, but his leg caught something and he fell.
"Anders?" Such a beautiful voice. Not the dark, corrupted voices of the darkspawn. "Anders? It's all right. You're safe."
Anders. That was him. I am Justice. Yeah, that was him, too.
He took a deep shuddering breath and tried to slow his rapid heart. A woman crouched before him, raven locks flowing down her head and around her shoulders, draping her like a second blanket. Concerned sapphire eyes watched him.
She moved slowly to kneel before him. She reached a hand out to brush aside the hair that had fallen into his face while the other held the blanket closed. "Shhh, you're safe now." He felt mana pour from her hand into him. His heart rate slowed and he could breathe again. He tried to give her a reassuring smile but he found himself paralyzed before her bright, soothing light.
Instead, it was her that gave him a reassuring smile. Leaning back into her crouch, she offered him her hand. He took it and she carefully pulled him to his feet and led him to sit on his cot.
His face became impossibly hot. Looking down at his feet, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see that."
She pulled his stool close to sit before him. "Anders, it's all right. I still have nightmares of the ogre that… took my sister from me." She took his hand. "Don't be ashamed."
He could only look at her. Somehow, in the mere hours that he had known her, she had touched a part of him he thought was dead and gone. He needed to be careful around her. It would kill him to hurt this kind and gentle creature.
"Is this part of the 'plagued by nightmares of the Archdemon'?" she asked softly.
He looked at her hand on his. She was pale like him even though she had grown up free instead of locked in the Circle. Her hands were lightly callused and knew work where his were smooth except for the middle finger on his right hand from using a quill. If he were still the old Anders, this would be an opportunity to kiss her hand and make a charming remark. Sighing, he looked in her eyes. "Yes, it is."
In the blink of an eye, she was leaning into him, her arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. Then, as quickly as it happened, it was over and she was sitting before him rearranging the blanket to cover her breasts. Her cheeks were stained with rosy color and she was examining her toes. He had to smile. Her impulse to comfort him had embarrassed her and, Maker, it was adorable. He suddenly wondered if she was a virgin.
Giving himself a mental shake and clearing his throat, he said, "I'm sorry for worrying you so early in the morning. What time were you supposed to meet your friend in the guard?"
Her eyes went wide. "Andraste's flaming sword! I've been here all night! Mother will be worried. And Carver will be furious at me for worrying Mother." Frantically, she jumped off the stool, nearly bowling him over. She ran to the cot where she slept and stopped. She picked up the pillow and put it down before kneeling to look under the cot. She spun around to face him, her hair spinning in an arc behind her. "Do you know where my armor went?"
Where did he put it after returning to the clinic? He looked over to see her padded tunic draped across his desk. Following his line of sight, she saw her armor and looked back to him in confusion.
He smiled at her. "I had a friend repair it for you after you fell asleep."
He watched her entire face light up with joy as she practically danced in place. She flew at him, hitting him with enough force to topple them over. She was laughing and squeezing the life out of him while they both fell into his cot, which groaned in protest. He resisted the impulse to roll her under him and kiss her senseless. Releasing him, she kissed him on the cheek before lithely hopping to the desk. He was breathing hard and struggling to regain control over his body.
Thank the Maker she hadn't noticed. She gently laid his blanket on the desk next to her armor. Her long hair completely hid the pale skin of her back. She quickly dressed and reached under the cot to grab her belt. Now completely clothed, she bent over again to retrieve her hair pins and deftly coiled her hair. As she was inserting pins into her hair the question of the pins came to Anders' mind. He needed any distraction from remembering the sensation of her body pressed against his.
"How did you take your hair down?"
"Beg your pardon?" she asked around the last pin between her lips.
"Last night, after we talked, I… Well, I cast a sleep spell on you to aid your healing. How did you wake up to take your hair down?"
Hair completely pinned into place, she sat down on the cot opposite him. Meeting his eyes, she chewed her lower lip. Her fingers twisted in her lap. He waited. He began to think she wasn't going to tell him when she spoke.
"My father was born in the Circle so he was raised with their teachings. He taught me and my sister the magic that he learned in the Circle but not the opinions of the Templars or the other mages. But he felt that malificars were still a valid threat and wanted to make sure that Bethany and I were protected." She looked at him pleadingly. "Don't misunderstand me, my father felt that mages deserved their freedom. But he felt that malificars gave all mages a bad name, whether they were a part of the Circle or not. He wanted to protect us from harm no matter where it came from. So, he called in a favor from a friend and had these made for us."
She removed a ring from the middle finger of her right hand. It was an ordinary looking piece of jewelry with a brass fitting and a purple and white stone. She then handed it to him and he could immediately sense magical power and protection.
"Your father is right about malificars." When Anders handed the ring back to her, she placed it on her finger and nodded before continuing.
"The rings are to protect us from spells from the Entropy school. I haven't tested the rings on anything from the Elemental school or Primal school because I couldn't bring myself to cast combat spells at my sister." She gave him a rueful smile. "When Bethany died, I gave her ring to Carver. I don't know if it works for him but it felt like what Father would have wanted."
Anders ached with her loss. To have had a family who loved and cherished you only to lose them… Well, maybe that was still better than not having a family. "I'm sorry to remind you of your loss."
"No, it's fine. I should probably let my mother and Carver know that I'm alive before leaving with Aveline."
Anders stood. "Yes, they need to know that you're safe. Should I meet you someplace afterwards?"
She looked at him from where she was sitting, the way he imagined he had probably looked at Ser Pounce-a-lot when the Warden-Commander presented the cat to him. The look said that she had found a creature in need of care.
She stood. "Would you like to join me for breakfast? After we speak with Mother, of course."
We. After we speak with Mother. She wanted to take him to meet her mother? Her mother who had loved a mage and raised two mage daughters? Curiosity overruled his good sense and he found himself saying, "Well, let's not keep her waiting any longer."