Chapter Seven
~O~
The rhythmic impact of the horse's hooves striking the grass-covered ground were one of the many sounds that permeated the dark of deep night all around them. Marian and Anders clung resolutely to the sturdy farm horse they had borrowed, for the occasion of their escape. After Marian successfully guided the beast out from among the trees and woodland they had spent the past hour navigating, onto the open, empty road, she turned her head and nodded.
"Now, Anders!"
His arms tightened around her waist. "Are you absolutely certain this is going to work?"
"Of course, I did it once before with my sister," she replied immediately. "Trust me."
After the briefest hesitation, Anders cast a Haste spell and the horse shot ahead in an unnatural burst of speed, allowing them to quickly cover much more ground. Letting out a whoop of laughter, Marian leaned forward, grinning at the rush of wind in her face. Anders arms around her waist tightened almost to the point of pain, betraying his apprehension and making another laugh spill from her lips.
"This is the thrill of freedom, Anders! Enjoy it!" She shouted into the wind. It was only after the spell faded and the horse resumed its normal canter that he attempted to answer, in a thoughtful, musing tone.
"I have never previously found insanity a turn-on, but apparently your particular flavor of madness is one I find luscious and irresistible, like all of the rest of you."
She turned her head and gave him an amused grin. "But is it really insanity? We have just eluded yet another set of people who would have enslaved us, at the very least. Savoring even these small moments of liberty would seem to be a wise and sane thing to do. Who knows when next we will be forced to fight to defend it, in a world that is so determined to hate us for who we are."
Sliding his nose against her hair, he pressed a kiss just beneath her ear. "The world can bloody well go hang itself, for all I care. I doubt much of anything could interfere with my current euphoric high, after the life-changing night we have just shared. I remain your ever eager and devoted lover, Mari, I'll follow you anywhere. Speaking of that, where exactly are we going?"
Marian tilted her head, allowing greater access to his wandering lips. "First, we need to go and get some sleep, which will also serve a further necessity, of keeping us hidden during the daylight hours when any search for us would take place. I know a secure location we can hide and rest. After nightfall this evening, we will go to a smuggler's hideout beneath Amaranthine. Hopefully, the same fellow is still in charge there; I did him a favor not too long ago and he owes me. Smuggling us out of the area will fulfill his debt."
Anders lifted his head, gazing further down the dark road they traveled. "You don't think it a bit dangerous to go back to Amaranthine? It likely still looks like a buzzing hive of Templars, and we may have added the Grey Wardens to those who want our heads. I don't honestly know Daylen well enough to say whether or not he will turn vindictive, after we have so blatantly declined to join the Wardens by our escape."
"I would prefer we didn't have to go back," she admitted. "But with multiple groups now wanting our hides, I feel travel by ship will be the least risky choice. I would push on to Highever where we are not known, but since I also do not know that area, it is likely the greater risk. I am at least confident that Harlun can get us out, the only point unknown is if he will get us out." Marian smiled grimly. "I can persuade him, if necessary, and it certainly won't be the first time I have had to...convince someone to see things from my point of view."
Watching her changing expressions, Anders shook his head and chuckled. "I believe I shall always endeavor to remain on your good side, sweetheart. I've seen you use spells that would make a First Enchanter envious, and I certainly don't want any of that aimed in my direction."
Marian pouted and fluttered her lashes at him. "How can you possibly think I would ever turn my magic on you for ill? I will only ever use it to protect you, love." He gave her a smoldering look that had her raising her brows curiously. "Was it something I said?"
"I want to suck on that tempting, pouty lip of yours, and I also want to bury my aching cock inside of you, every time you call me love." He replied in a low tone.
With calculating eyes and a quick smile, she shrugged. "I certainly wouldn't object to either of those things, love. In fact, I think I rather have my heart set on it now, as soon as we stop...love."
He flashed her a smirk, one of his hands gliding up to cup her breast, the other sliding low to rub at her clit through her clothes, making her gasp from the sudden onslaught of pleasure. His voice was a velvet purr of temptation in her ear.
"Ah, but right now I'm enjoying our freedom, living in the moment, making every second count. Ever come while riding a horse before?"
She shook her head, already feeling the promise of familiar tension he had taught her to crave, coiling inside her at his confident touch. "Never, but we are getting close to where we need to stop, only another fifteen minutes, or so. Shouldn't we wait?"
Pinching her nipple with just enough pressure to feel good but not enough to hurt, he bit into her neck, continuing to steadily rub her at the same pace. "I'll wait, I want you to come." He hummed his encouragement and approval when she moaned, her body's tautness growing, quick to obey his touch and words.
"Yes, that's it, it's right there, Mari, you're already at the very edge. Maker, I can feel it. Your body is so eager to do my bidding, it makes me harder than stone that I can have this much power over you. I think you know just how much it truly affects me, love. And in this...I want you to give in to me fully...right...now."
She shuddered through a climax that had no right to be so strong and good, stunned he had made her feel the way he had while they were riding on a horse, of all things. It shouldn't be possible, but with Anders, it seemed almost anything was. Her hand cramped from the tight grip she kept on the reins while her breath stuttered out.
"Good girl," he murmured, his stroking touch slowing as he guided her through the last of her peak, turning her face more toward him so he could kiss her and suck on her bottom lip as he wished, before kissing his way across her cheek and throat again.
"You are dangerously addictive, Anders," she whispered, when she was able to speak properly again.
He pulled her back more tightly against him, letting her feel his hardness. "No more than you, temptress. Is it a gift from the Maker that we each have what the other craves, or are we just that lucky in love?"
Giving him an adoring look, she reached for one of his hands, tangling her fingers with his. "Perhaps both. It's what I like to think, anyway."
Before long, she guided the horse off the road and slowed his pace, pulling the reins to stop completely after another five minutes. Anders slid down first, then helped her dismount, pulling her against him when her legs were wobbly, at first. He smirked, clearly proud that he had left her weak-kneed, and she shrugged with a still-giddy smile. After removing their belongings from the horse, Marian secured the reins so they wouldn't hang down, then slapped the horse's behind to quickly send him on his way again, hopefully back to the farm he had come from.
With staff and pack in hand, Marian led Anders through more woodland until they came to a very overgrown clearing, just visible in the shadowy dark. After walking around and getting her bearings, she went to the base of an old, large tree and tugged something. Anders called up a spell wisp, revealing steps going down into some sort of cellar. Leading the way, Marian started down, waiting for Anders to pull the door shut, concealing the entrance once more.
"How did you know this cellar was here?" He asked curiously, examining the large room when they reached the bottom of the stairs. There were empty shelves lining one wall, and several barrels against another. A small table and four chairs completed the furnishings, nothing else visible beyond years worth of dust.
Placing her staff against the wall and her pack on the floor near the little table, she looked around her and smiled. "I wandered pretty far and wide when gathering potion-making ingredients during the year I've lived in Amaranthine. I noticed there seemed to be the remains of a house here, probably from quite some time ago. I scouted around and stumbled on this cellar, still intact, and looking like a perfect place for well-meaning apostates to hide and rest, if necessary."
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Does Ella, or anyone else know about this?"
Crossing her arms, Marian shook her head. "I never told anyone. I've learned to hold my cards close to my chest when playing an uncertain hand. The fewer people that know all your secrets, the less chance you run of betrayal. A lesson I learned when still a child, and it has served me well."
"It's no wonder you've never been imprisoned in a Circle, Mari," he praised her in an admiring tone. "You're smart and cunning, always staying multiple steps ahead of potential enemies, and when all else fails, you are dangerous and skilled, well able to defend yourself against those that force your hand."
Her eyes turned sad, with a careworn weight that furrowed her brows and made her shoulders slump a bit. "The ones that force my hand seem to be what I encounter most." She looked away as her voice fell quieter. "I've killed a lot of people during my life, Anders. For those deeds, I've been called Champion by some, and murderer by others." Sighing, she met his gaze again when he walked over and stopped in front of her. "Perhaps the truth of me may lie somewhere between those two extremes."
Pulling her into his arms, he examined her face with a keen, penetrating regard. "I know what you are, Mari, I can see you quite clearly."
"And what is that?" She asked, feeling vulnerable and uncertain under his focused, honey-brown gaze. It seemed to strip everything away, looking deep down inside, to the pit of darkness that lived in her soul; the one that would do anything for the person she loved, no matter the cost. He didn't flinch, as she might have expected, but instead he smiled as though pleased by what he beheld.
"I think it's pretty obvious, you're the woman I've been waiting my whole life for. The hero to save me from my despair, and in turn inspire me to become your hero, so I can save you from yours." He hooked a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear, the earnest intensity blazing in his eyes, scorching deep into her heart.
"We aren't like other people, you and I. You feel it too, don't you? Our connection, this overwhelming need and passion that's always been between us, possibly even from before we met. It's love, but also...more." He leaned closer, his lips just above hers. "I finally figured it all out. It's forever. We are forever. I accepted what I saw in your eyes, your great need for me, when we made love. I now want to be equally clear with you, so there is no misunderstanding between us. Are you ready to hear what I have to say on this?" At her sober nod, a slight smile curled his lips. "Only this- I don't think I can live without you, either, Mari. I've never needed anyone before, not until we met, I was too afraid to. But I've been forced to admit it to myself first, and now to you, that I need you. Do you fully understand what I'm telling you?"
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears when she nodded again. "I think I understand, Anders, and I agree with you. It's been my truth for a long time. One day I...I should really explain it all to you, from the very beginning."
Brushing a hand against her cheek, his eyes warmed with affection. "Good. I think to mark this important moment, I'm going to make love to you now, until we both fall into a deep, exhausted sleep. Does that sound good to you?" He tilted his head, his smile growing when she grinned.
"That sounds absolutely perfect. I am your eager partner in all things, Anders, today and always."
After spreading out their bedrolls and removing their clothes, they practically attacked each other. What started as soft moans and tender kisses, soon turned to passionate bites and affected growls, each of them taking a turn dominating the other, doing just as they liked, which turned out to be exactly what the other was craving.
"How do you always know?" Marian gasped, after Anders had fucked her into the floor for the third time, making her come so many times she had become confused and gave up trying to keep count. He kissed her again, tugging lightly at her bottom lip with his teeth, before rolling off her to lie beside her. Closing his eyes, he smiled.
"Your body sings for mine, love. Just for me, only a song I can hear and complete for you."
Prying her eyes open, she turned her head to look at him in confusion, her ability to think and reason sluggish from the unrelenting sensory overload.
"I...what?"
Chuckling, he rolled to face her and smirked playfully. "I'm your other fucking half, Marian. We were made to fuck each other, which is why we're so good at it. There, a bit easier to understand in your current befuddled, post-orgasmic condition?"
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Smart ass…"
He hummed in agreement, closing his eyes again. "But I'm your smart ass, which makes it a bit better, I think."
Sliding closer, she wrapped her arm around his waist, smiling when he tugged her fully against him, positioning her with her head resting on his chest, where his shoulder and chest created the perfect place for her head. They both fell into a deep, well-earned sleep.
~O~
When they awoke, darkness had fallen again on the world outside, but it was still quite early in the evening. They had some time to kill before setting off again. After dressing, they sat at the little table together and ate some of the food and drank from the water skin they took with them from the farm.
Ruminating on many things, including what the night might bring, Marian lapsed into preoccupied silence. Caught up in troubling thoughts and the uncertainty as to what she should reveal to Anders before they moved on, and what she should continue to conceal. It seemed wrong to engage in any further deception, when he had been so honest and open with her, but she was still too afraid to reciprocate, leaving her awash in guilt and worry. She was startled out of her brooding anxiety when he reached out and gently grasped her chin, forcing her gaze up to meet his, while he intuited her struggle from her eyes and expression.
"You're worried about something… A decision you need to make," he murmured. Briefly pressing his lips together, he continued. "You want to tell me something important, but you're afraid of my reaction. Don't be, you can tell me anything, sweetheart, you know you can trust me."
"You continue to read me like an open book," she said quietly, brows climbing in astonishment. "In so many ways that he never, ever could. It still startles me, how different you..." Realizing just how much she had said aloud, she bit her lip, waiting for his reaction. Her stomach flipped uneasily as she realized her verbal blunder had ensured she had just fully committed to telling him the truth, and no going back.
His hand falling away from her face, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, his brows furrowing in thought, silence stretching for long minutes between them as he carefully considered what she said, attempting to puzzle out all the pieces she had given him.
"He? Who is he?" He finally broke the silence with his questions.
"I think you already know the answer, though you may have rejected the possibility as too far-fetched. You've likely known for some time, ever since you saw his body." Letting those words sink in, she stood and walked across the room to one of the barrels, opened a false lid and pulled out a very expensive looking leather pack, well made, with the image of an attacking hawk mid-flight, worked into the leather.
His eyes followed her as she walked back to him and opened it, pulling out a set of black mage robes she set on the table before him. He stroked a hand across the glossy black feathers he had already seen once before, feeling the power of the magical enchantments that imbued the fabric, humming against his fingers. Reaching into the pack again, she pulled out two bound books, setting the first before him. He opened the cover, his eyes flying up to hers to confirm what he was looking at.
"This is my handwriting," he stated, his eyes still narrowed as he tried to take it all in. At her nod, he looked back to the pages, flipping through them, skimming what was written, in disbelief that he could have written it all. Some of the ranting seemed fanatical and decidedly unhinged. Closing the book, he shook his head. "A manifesto, for Maker's sake." He pinned her with a dark, angry look. "Had I gone insane? Is that what you tried to stop…" Interrupting himself, he shook his head again.
She drew a long, slow breath, gathering her thoughts. "In a manner of speaking, yes, I suppose so. You were conscripted by the Grey Wardens in Amaranthine, and after your Joining, you met a spirit of Justice trapped outside the Fade. He took over the body of a dead Warden, and he somehow convinced you to let him join with you instead, except once he was inside you he changed, you changed. He became a spirit of Vengeance, more like a demon, really, and you had no control when he took over, nor any say in what he did. You never even had memories of what he did afterwards." Her face darkened and she looked away. "I hated that spirit," she hissed. "He was my enemy, in every way, for all the things he forced you to do."
"I was a fucking abomination?!" he exploded, pushing to his feet and pacing several feet away before turning back, his face still darkened by rage when he drew in a slow breath before he spoke again.
"How?" His voice was calm, but with an edge of steel she had never heard from this Anders. An unfamiliar shiver of fear and uncertainty raced up her spine before she quelled it. Swallowing nervously, she opened the second book to a page she had marked and extended it to him, revealing just how very far she had gone to change things. So many things her corrupted Anders had never even known.
After reading both pages, with all the detailed instructions and exactly what the full spell required, he closed the book. Another silent minute ticked past. "You can't see the future, you never had precognition, that was a lie," he said quietly, almost as though he were talking to himself. "You already lived the future...that's how you know, how you knew...so much."
He looked up and held her gaze again, while his eyes probed hers, laying bare all her terrible, dark secrets, her blackest emotions and deeds. Judging her. Knowing beyond any doubt that she really was the cruel, cold murderer some had branded her. How could anyone see her as anything else, when it was the simple truth?
She had crossed so many lines, ones decent people would never even consider crossing, became a villain willingly. All to change something she had no right to meddle with, but she didn't care about that. Where she should be repentant, she wasn't, couldn't be; her commitment to him only left her resolved. She would do it all again without a moment's hesitation. Maybe that made her a monster, unworthy of him or his heart. Unable to face the fast approaching moment when his brief love for her would inevitably turn to hate, she looked away, forced out the words that tasted so bitter on her tongue. Like ash. Like death. The death she would embrace as her only friend, after he left her.
"Of course, I understand you likely want to go on your own separate path now, since you know the truth of me...of us. You aren't bound to me in any way, you're entirely free to do as you will. My goal was always to prevent the spirit from taking over your life, so you could have the chance for a real one of your own. One you could choose without compulsion. With your phylactery no longer an issue, you could go anywhere, do anything. I wish you very happy, if that is your...choice." Her voice broke on the final word, the tears refusing to be held back any longer, all the grief, the anger, the shattered pieces of her heart demanding some kind of release. Turning more away, she covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sounds of her misery.
"No," he said, in a sharp, low tone. Closing the distance between them, he wrenched her back around to face him. She met his furious brown eyes, appearing darker than she had ever seen them, shocked by the tears that also coursed down his face. "No," he repeated. "I won't leave you behind, do you hear me? And you can't leave me. You're mine, Mari. Mine! I'm yours! I need you. You need me, I know you do! How could you think…"
At her muffled sob, he broke off and pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly while they both weathered the storm of their strong emotions, each drawing strength from the other and their desperate embrace. When he spoke again, his voice was much calmer, softer.
"How could you ever think I wouldn't want you? You defied time itself, for me. I can hardly wrap my mind around that, but I can't deny all the proof. From the first moment I saw you, touched you, a voice deep inside declared you were mine, as though I knew you, knew that we belonged together." Pulling back, he cradled her face in his hands, gazing at her in wonder.
"You really are the champion who came to save me, Marian Hawke, like in some fantastical tale of old. And I want to save you too, from all of your pain, your grief and doubt. Give you a man who is worthy of such a deep love as yours, not the sad abomination that you loved in spite of his flaws and poor choices." His thumbs smeared through the tracks of her tears, wiping them away. "Promise me," he whispered, his eyes full of tenderness and a firm resolve. "Swear to me that we are forever. There are no more secrets, nothing to disrupt our harmony, but I need your word if I am to rest easy. Will you give it to me, love, will you promise?"
Dizzy from the sudden infusion of hope his words brought and his unexpected acceptance, she nodded immediately. "Of course I will. I swear to be yours, always, until my death. It's what I've dreamed of, Anders. I never expected….you, the pure, wonderful you to be so…" She fell silent, struggling for the words she was searching for when he spoke up.
"Intelligent and insightful? Charming, clever and funny? Breathtakingly handsome? Undeniably gifted and awe-inspiring in bed?" He smiled teasingly. "I can continue if you need more suggestions."
She laughed, grateful for the release of tension, and his humor she enjoyed so much, something the spirit had all but killed in the other Anders. "Yes, you are all those things and so much more." Reaching up, she stroked a hand across his cheek, her smile softening when he turned and pressed a kiss to her palm. "I would cross time again, defy the Maker and any other I had to, just to get to you. I can have no regrets for any of the steps I took that led me to this moment, and to any and all moments with you that are to follow."
Bending nearer, he brushed his lips against hers, lightly, teasingly. "I love you, Mari. I'm full to bursting with it. I will always need your kiss to be whole." Sealing his mouth to hers, his tongue flicked against hers, pulling her more against his body when she sighed into his mouth. After another endless moment of tender kisses, Anders lifted his head, gesturing toward the table where both books lay.
"I can't begin to understand how you even made that spell work, the complexity alone would be impossible for most mages, and how were you able to…" He shook his head, brows furrowing in thought. "Where were you able to get the required number of...sacrifices to power it?"
Sighing, she gestured toward a chair, waiting until he was seated to sit in the chair beside him, her hand resting idly on the tome that had made their current conversation possible. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the little ornate sheathed dagger she had used for so many years, given by a grateful city to Kirkwall's Champion.
"Believe it or not, I could have done that spell several times over, just from the number of templar hunters sent to kill us, after the spirit blew up the fucking Kirkwall Chantry."
Anders reared back in surprise. "He did what? I did that? But why?"
Marian's gaze darkened with the same old anger, the same hate. "No, it was never you, it was the gods-damned spirit. Everything bad that happened was from Vengeance. He did it to start a war, to force it, between templars and mages, and he succeeded. All the Circles fell, after. There was chaos, slaughter, cruelty from both sides." She rubbed at her suddenly aching head, but it did nothing to dispel the painful memories. "So many innocents caught in the crossfire, as is always the way in war. In theory, Justice, Vengeance, or whatever the spirit called itself, he wasn't wrong. There does need to be change, but exploding the Chantry and sending the body of the Grand Cleric clear to the Black City is certainly not the way to accomplish it."
"No, I would think that action would only sow hatred for all mages." Reaching for the dagger and pulling it from the sheathe, Anders examined it and tilted his head in question when he read the inscription. "To the Champion of Kirkwall, from the grateful citizens of Kirkwall. Is that you, Champion of Kirkwall? What did you do for such accolades?"
With a rueful smile, she reached further into the bag and pulled out an impressive set of light armor with red accents, in a style he had never seen before. "The armor of the Champion of Kirkwall. To receive such praise and the title with it, all I had to do was kill the Arishok in a one on one duel, and end the Qunari attack and attempted subjugation of the city." She shrugged. "Simple."
Frowning, Anders leaned forward to examine her face, then blew out a surprised breath. "You aren't lying! You really killed the Arishok all on your own? That must have been difficult."
She gave a humorless chuckle and shook her head. "The other you wasn't very happy with me afterwards, that's for sure. I was impaled on that giant Qunari bastard's sword, at one point, but I'm harder to kill than he gave me credit for. I was badly wounded, but I still lifted him with a force spell, all the way up to the ceiling of the Viscount's throne room, and I smashed him into the marble floor below. He was knocked out, which gave me time to cut his head off, just as he did to Viscount Dumar before I arrived to confront him. It certainly wasn't the prettiest fight, but I survived it, thanks to your healing." Lifting her tunic, she pointed to the scar that wrapped around her left side by several inches.
Following it with his fingers, Anders shook his head. "I wondered what caused that." Flicking his eyes to hers, he moved his touch further down, to a small, discolored scar next to her pelvic bone, pushing aside her breeches to get to it. "What about this one? I've never seen a wound scar with that type of angry red, the skin almost looks dyed there."
Marian shrugged. "That would be a souvenir from Knight-Commander Meredith's red lyrium sword of doom, after she went bat-shit crazy from it. You won't have ever heard of red lyrium, I and my companions discovered some on the Deep Roads expedition that made me my fortune. Red lyrium is awful stuff, it can make the user of such a weapon very strong, but it destroys them utterly in the process."
Extending a hand, Anders' green healing light flowed into the scar before he lowered his hand with a puzzled look. "It's hotter than the surrounding skin, and there's still a faint energy coming from that scar. That worries me, it shouldn't feel like anything."
"It seems you agree with yourself," she said with a faint smile, before she sobered and nodded. "He worried over it too, but it hasn't bothered me since the initial healing he did, so maybe there's no further danger. I certainly hope to never see red lyrium again." She shuddered and shook her head.
Lacing the fingers of one of his hands with hers, he held her gaze, his eyes troubled. "What do you suppose will happen, without you in Kirkwall to bring about all those things in the near future? Me, as well, now I will only be myself and not some spirit's puppet to command?"
She shook her head, her blue eyes equally concerned. "I don't know, not really. Could there be another version of me running around? I hardly think that likely, so perhaps it will be others that bring about change. Or, perhaps Kirkwall will have nothing strange happen at all, who can say? I know I certainly felt like I lived a cursed life there, before I came here." Marian smiled, a faint hope brightening her countenance. "If I am permitted a life with you, of freedom and independence that we choose, I shall count myself greatly blessed."
The soft, loving look in his eyes was a contrast to the steely tone in his voice when he answered. "We will have that life, if I have to kill every templar that stands in our way to give it to you."
She smiled playfully. "A bouquet of templar corpses? You are so romantic, love."
He chuckled. "I suppose that isn't very romantic, is it? I'll try to do much better when we are settled somewhere." Standing, he pulled her to her feet and smirked, quickly whisking her up into his arms, his smile widening when she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "In the meantime, how about I sweep you off your feet and overwhelm you with pleasure?"
"We really probably need to set off in another half an hour, or so," she said, regretfully. His golden eyes gleamed with the smoldering look that always instantly lit her body on fire.
"That's plenty of time for what I have in mind for you, sweetheart. I think you'll enjoy this, and I know I will." When he headed for their bedrolls still spread out on the floor with purposeful strides, she nuzzled against his neck, breathed in his scent, and embraced the anticipation rising inside her.
~O~