Magic's Slave

D: I'm so sorry for what I do to the boys in this chapter!!!
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A week passed without incident, Anders finally used to sleeping on a bed, but not in his own room yet. The mage felt safe when in Nathaniel’s presence and kept up a pretense of nightmares to stay with the other man. Each morning he woke to the feeling of being like a child’s stuffed toy and feigned sleep until Nathaniel woke and moved away.

At the end of the week, however, Thomais made his first foray away from his desk since the first night he arrived, to talk to the people surrounding the Keep, taking Nathaniel, Anders, and Zevran with him.

After taking a deep breath of the fresh air outside, he took a good look around and grinned when he spotted a pair of familiar faces. “Master Wade! Herren!” He called out and hurried over to the couple. “It’s good to see you two. What brings you all the way out here to my new home?”

Herren grinned at him, “We thought we’d help out the new Wardens. You are going to need the finest armor your money can get you.”

“I suppose the money the King paid us had nothing to do with it…” Wade’s pouting voice came from the forge, and he made his way over to the table.

“Well, yes darling, but they do need us.” Herren pointed out. “Is there anything you need right now?”

Thomais nodded and moved to browse the armor and weapon selection, picking and choosing a small variety. “You can have these sent up to my room, right? I’m afraid I’m on a bit of a schedule today.”

Herren nodded. “Of course! Anything for Wade’s favorite patron. Though, he’s been a little pouty since the Dragon Scale. Do you think you could bring him something interesting to make him feel better?”

Thomais laughed. “Who knows what I’ll run into out there. If I ever slay any more dragons this will be the first place I bring them to. I promise.”

Anders stood back some, hiding behind Nathaniel a little, and Zevran stepped up to browse the weapons while Thomais chatted. When the two finished their shopping they waved goodbye and headed for the first person the Seneschal has told them to see, a young woman by the name of Sergeant Maverlies.

“Ho there, Commander.” She greeted them as they approached her. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but it’s possible there are still darkspawn in the Vigil.”

Thomais raised an eyebrow, and Zevran let out a chuckle. “I could have sworn we killed all of them.” The Antivan grinned.

She held up a hand. “Let me explain. You know Dworkin?”

“Yes, the dwarf with the amusing explosions.” Thomais nodded.

“That mad dwarf’s bombs shook the whole keep. Some of the deep cellars caved in and I suspect that there are pockets of darkspawn below, trapped. In time, they may dig their way out.”

Nathaniel and Anders shared an alarmed look as Thomais groaned. “Take me to the cave in Sergeant.”

The Sergeant led them down a flight of stairs and pointed to a large pile of rubble. “Here we are. The Vigil goes deep. Real deep. The hallways down here have been crumbling for years and decades. And that blasted Dworkin’s explosives didn’t do the structure any favors.” She was definitely put out by the explosions.

Thomais pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Do you know how the Darkspawn got here to begin with?”

Maverlies shrugged. “I dunno, but no one saw them approaching on the surface. Do you think they found a way up from below?”

Thomais nodded. “Well Zev, looks like we’ll be heading back to the Deep Roads.”

Zevran looked mildly alarmed. “That is where you said you encountered that… Broodmother you told me about past Orzammar?”

Thomais nodded and turned to Anders and Nathaniel. “Look… I don’t know what’s down here. But there’s a potential to run into something called a broodmother, especially in the Deep Roads. The Darkspawn… they take women and--”

There was a whimper from Anders and Nathaniel cut Thomais off. “I don’t think I want to hear anymore. But the Deep Roads… That’s where all the Dwarves live right?” Nathaniel chewed on his lip thoughtfully.

Thomais nodded gravely. “And where the Darkspawn flee to after the death of an Archdemon.”

Anders’ eyes widened. “Maker preserve us, if the tunnels go that deep…”

Thomais cast him a weird look before turning back to Maverlies. “Have them clear the rubble. We need to get down there.”

Marverlies nodded. “You heard the Commander! Put your backs into it!”

Once the rubble was cleared, the group set off down the tunnels. They ran into nothing until them reached an open room and came across a mabari. She was dirty with blood and who knows what else, and her fur had great patches ripped out of it.

Thomais reached out a hand to pet her; all too aware at how a mabari could react to anyone not its master. Luck was on his side today, however, and he succeeded in calming her down and pulling a scroll from her leg. Wordlessly he handed it to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel took it with a puzzled look and began reading. “It’s from Adria! She was like a mother to me. We have to save her!”

Zevran raised an eyebrow. “You are aware, Nathaniel, that if this Adria person is still alive it is likely that she has become a ghoul… or worse? Especially with so many Darkspawn running about.”

Nathaniel looked sick. “That is a possibility. But I’m not just going to give up and not try!”

Zevran shrugged. “I only wish that you do not get your hopes up. I would hate to see you crushed. You’re a necessary part of the team after all.”

Nathaniel nodded and the group forged onward.

After a clearing out a few groups of Darkspawn, they emerged into a room that looked like a makeshift prison. One short fight with ghouls later, Thomais headed over to one of the holding cells. “How long have you men been in here?”

“I don’t know!” The man seemed slightly hysterical. “Months? It’s been days since we had any food, please let us out! The Arl put us here!”

“Arl Howe?” Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “But this isn’t supposed to be a dungeon, what was my Father thinking?”

“You’re his son!?” The man cringed away from the gate.

“I’m not my father,” Nathaniel said quietly.

Thomais spared him a worried glance and opened the gate. “There. You’re free. Go to Veral in the Keep. Tell him the Commander has allowed you to get everything you need.”

The men nodded and ran for the exit.

Thomais stared after them for a moment before he let out a sigh. “If there are places like this all over the Keep, then there may still be men trapped. I’m going to have to speak with Veral and organize search parties.”

While that was going on, Anders explored the room further until he came across a door. Tilting his head at it, he tried the handle, only to find that it was locked. Wandering back over to the group, he tugged on Nathaniel’s arm. “There’s uh… a door. Over there, Ser. It’s locked though.”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow but followed the mage over to the door, where he picked the lock and felt a cool rush of air when it opened. “Ah. The family crypt. My mother always forbade us from playing in the cellars. Now I know why…”

They heard Zevran chuckle. “Your cellar was always home to Darkspawn and ghouls then?”

“Of course not.” Nathaniel snorted. “But I’m sure she didn’t want us playing in the crypt.”

Zevran peered over his shoulder. “It’s a bit eerie in there. Why are we going in again?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Feel free to stay up there with the Commander. I’d like to pay respects to some of my ancestors.”

Anders curiously followed Nathaniel down the stairs, and as the rogue went to each coffin in turn, the mage studied a sack propped against a beam in the middle of the room. It seemed out of place and therefore worth investigating. He loosened the drawstrings on it and grinned as he pulled out a beautifully made bow. “Ser! Look what I found!” He trotted over to Nathaniel and held out the bow.

Nathaniel turned and took it in trembling hands. “Is this… what I think it is? It is! This is the Howe crest burned into the bow, right there, Anders!” He was smiling happily. “This is my grandfather’s bow! Or, rather, my grandfather was the last to use it.” He amended. “It was originally made for an ancestor during the Exalted Marches.”

“Why didn’t you have it before?” Anders asked curiously. “You look like it’s been lost forever.”

“My father… hid it away, I guess. I’m surprised he didn’t destroy it.” Nathaniel ran his hands over the wood. “I remember finding it before I was sent to the Free Marches. I’m glad to have it in my hands again. A bow like this deserves to be used.” He gave Anders a genuinely happy smile. “Thank you. I finally have something to show how proud I am of my family, and prove to people I’m not my Father.”

Anders flushed and shifted under the praise. “I saw it was beautiful and thought you might like it. I wasn’t aware that it meant something special to you.”

Nathaniel laughed. “Stop belittling your gift, Anders. It’s fine. I’m very happy to have it back.”

Anders nodded, and followed Nathaniel back up the stairs, where they moved on deeper into the cellar, fighting a few more packs of Darkspawn along the way, and finally emerged into a cave of sorts. There was a female figure in noble clothing hunched over and taking deep rasping breaths up ahead.

Nathaniel’s voice trembled as he called out, “Adria? Adria is that you?”

The figure turned around, and Anders flinched when he saw the glassy stare and peeling skin that he’d seen on the ghouls they’d fought before. He spared a glance at Nathaniel who looked rather sick.

“There… there’s some way to help her, isn’t there?” He pleaded, not looking anywhere but at the woman who used to be closer to him than his mother.

Thomais shook his head. “I’m afraid not Nathaniel. Would you like me to take care of it?”

Nathaniel shook his head violently. “No. Let me do her this one last favor.” As the ghoul opened its mouth to scream at him, he readied his bow, took aim, and shot. His aim was dead on as the first arrow went in her mouth and the next in her eye. The ghoul dropped, and Nathaniel ran from the cellar as if he had an archdemon on his heels.

Anders followed him, trying to keep up as the man fled from the passages. He still wasn’t all that fit though, and the rogue outstripped him easily. Anders had no idea where he was going, but decided to check their room first. When he arrived, very out of breath, he pushed the door open and saw his master sitting on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest, head bowed to them. Though he made no sound, the shake of his shoulders told Anders he was weeping. Wordlessly he crossed into the room and put his arms around Nathaniel murmuring some soft and nonsensical words in the other’s ear.

Nathaniel stiffened and shrugged the mage off of him. Not now. Not now Anders… He thought, and hunched into an even smaller ball.

“Ser…” Anders tried again to hug the man, “Ser, please. Let me take care of you. This is what I’m here for. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering Anders.” Nathaniel rasped out, voice thick with tears.

“I’m a slave, Ser. Remember? It’s a part of what I am. Being a slave means it’s a constant offer. I can give you comfort.” His voice trembled, and he rested his hands on Nathaniel’s shoulders, giving an encouraging squeeze.

Nathaniel raised his gaze at the mage. “So that’s it. This is duty. A part of who you are. You’re here because you’re obligated to be.” He unfolded from his position and took hold of Anders’ wrists in one hand, placing his other on the mage’s hip.

“S… S… Ser…” Anders’ breathing became irregular and he trembled violently. “W…why… w… what are you doing?”

Nathaniel shifted again, straddling Anders’ hips and forcing the mage down to the mattress, his grip pinning the other man's wrists to the pillow above his head. “You offered it to me, didn't you? It's why you're here? You said you would do anything I asked.” A thought struck him. “You want this don’t you? You’ve been putting those dreams in my head. Trying to get me to lose control of myself and do something… regrettable.” He leaned down, nearly nose to nose with the mage.

Anders’ trembles didn’t cease. His eyes pinched shut and he let out a soft sigh that was almost a sob. This isn't what I meant. I only wanted to... I was wrong. This is just like being back at the Tower.

Nathaniel finally seemed to notice what he was doing. He recoiled from Anders and back into his previous position with his head sunk between his knees. “Get out.”

“S…Ser?”

Nathaniel trembled with the exertion of keeping his temper and libido in check. “Andraste’s blood, Mage. If you don’t get out of my room right now, you’ll think the Templar were gentle with you.”

Anders’ eyes opened wide and he stumbled backwards off the bed, hitting the floor, and then scrambling out. Tears in his eyes, he headed for the kitchens and the larder, hoping Henri was there.

Nathaniel stared at the spot where Anders had sat. Good. Now he’ll stay away from me. He shivered and wept for Adria, and for what he nearly did to his charge.

Meanwhile, Anders wedged himself in a corner of the larder, crying and eating cookies until Henri found him and swept him into a hug. The Orlesian simply sat there, holding him, until the weeping had passed.

“Would you like me to help you to your room?” Henri said kindly, rubbing circles on Anders’ back.

Anders shook his head. “No, no. I… Can I stay in here? I won’t cause any trouble. I don’t want to go back there tonight.”

Henri nodded. “That’s fine. Fine. I will stay here with you.” He smiled. “You won’t be alone, alright?”

Anders stared up at the cook and breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Yes. Thank you. Thank you.”

Henri quirked a grin at him. “No problem at all. I will be back with blankets. Do not worry.”

Anders nodded, and stared blankly at the wood grain of the cabinet until Henri returned with the blankets and soothed him to sleep.