Magic's Slave

Nathaniel stared at his breakfast miserably and pushed it around with his fork.

“Nathaniel Howe.”

He looked up at the sound of his name and paled. “Er… Good morning, Commander?”

Thomais’ face was impassive. “My study. Now.”

Nathaniel stood up and pushed his breakfast away, suddenly not hungry at all, and followed Thomais. Maker’s breath, he used my full name. They’re going to kill me. They’re going to dump me in the Deep Roads to fight Darkspawn until I’m killed.

Thomais pushed the door to the study open and nearly shoved Nathaniel inside, slamming the door shut behind him. “Now,” He stated, taking a calm seat at his desk, “do you want to tell me why I had a crying mage in my study earlier this morning, begging me ‘Don’t blame Nathaniel’?”

Nathaniel swallowed. “Er… I didn’t do it?”

Thomais raised an eyebrow. “That’s a load of manure. Tell me what happened when he went after you last night.”

Nathaniel sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “He came in. Offered… comfort. Said he’d do whatever I asked. Said it’s his job. I took it the wrong way. I… I thought he didn’t want to comfort me; that it was just what he was supposed to do, that he didn’t really care, and he was offering…” Nathaniel paused a minute and took in a deep breath. “I thought that he was offering intimate comfort.” He chanced a look up at Thomais’ face. “I pressed him. And then realized he was trembling with fear. Realized exactly what I was about to do to him.” His voice grew harsher. “And I pushed him away. Forced him out of my room.”

Thomais simply stood there, silently.

Nathaniel shook his head. “I don’t deserve this responsibility. I don’t deserve to be anywhere near him. Take the Maker damned papers back!”

“No.”

“What?! Andraste’s blood! Thomais, I nearly raped him!” Nathaniel surged to his feet. “Take the papers back!”

“Nearly.” Thomais shoved Nathaniel back into his seat. “The word you used is ‘nearly.’ Had you actually done it, you would be getting a personal visit from Zev. As it stands…” He tapped his chin. “You’re going to have to make this up to him. Get him to trust you, and for Andraste’s sake, don’t do something stupid like that again.” He smiled.

Nathaniel sat, struck dumb for a few moments. “What is it with you and people redeeming themselves?” He growled. “Some people cannot be saved. Some people cannot be changed from who they are, who their family is.” He snorted. “Some things just breed true,” he added bitterly.

Thomais started to laugh. “Alright. If our blood determines who we are then let me ask you a question.”

Nathaniel nodded warily.

“What can you tell me about my character?” Thomais spread his arms wide and grinned.

“You’re a selfless individual that believes the best in people,” Nathaniel responded promptly. “You look to the good in others even when it isn’t there. But you can be ruthless and stubborn when you feel you’re right.”

“Thank you,” Thomais said. “I think. That sounded an awful lot like a backhanded compliment. Now let me tell you something…” He leaned forward a little. “I grew up in an Alienage. I’m not a proud Dalish warrior. I’m Alienage scum that never would have gotten out if it hadn’t been for a disgusting ‘noble’ human that stole my cousin and the woman I was supposed to marry that day. My parents lived in the Alienage. As did theirs. And most likely theirs. If blood determines our character, shouldn’t I still be there right now?”

Nathaniel sat speechless.

Thomais smirked and tried another tack. “Now let’s take Anders for example.” He chuckled when he saw the panic flit across Nathaniel’s face. “He’s a charming man. A bit over eager to please. A good, gentle soul, I think.” Thomais sat back on his desk. “Now, if blood is who we are, if blood is what shapes us, then shouldn’t he be a raving monstrous animal with no regard for anyone’s life except his own?” He sighed. “Nathaniel, there’s a reason for everything that happens. Now go find him and prove to yourself that you are not your father.”

Nathaniel stared, open mouthed.

“That means get out of my office. I have work to do.” Thomais flapped his hand at Nathaniel and sat behind his desk with more paperwork. “Oh, and by the by, the Templar will be here in a week to see if we’re capable of taking on more mages. So you're also working with a deadline.” He smirked.

Nathaniel stood and returned to his room. Walking in a daze, the words Thomais had spoken tumbling through his mind. When he stepped into his room, he noticed something was off. The bed was made, his clothes were neatly folded in his trunk, and there was a cookie on a small tin plate. Frowning, he picked the cookie up and noticed it had a smile frosted onto it, and he couldn't help but chuckle. There was a messily scrawled note underneath it from Anders. “This may be easier than I thought,” he murmured and took a bite of the confection as he read the note.

“Ser!” A young voice startled him and he turned around.

There was a very young man standing in his doorway, holding a package. “These are the uniforms you ordered from the tailor.”

Nathaniel stepped over to the door and took the package, shooing the adolescent away with his hand. He set it on the bed and began inspecting the work. Satisfied, he went to put them away only to notice a smaller bundle at the bottom. With a curious frown, he sliced the thread holding it shut and pulled out a piece of short leather. His mouth fell open as he regarded the short vest that had been thrown in with the other clothes.

There was a soft sound of feet at the door and he spun around to see Anders standing there. The mage blinked, turned scarlet and started stammering. “B-but y-y-you said…t-told him…” As Nathaniel took a step towards him to explain, the mage turned on his heel and fled from the doorway.

Nathaniel threw the offending garment on the bed, cursing his luck. There was no way Anders was going to want to be anywhere near him now. Putting the other clothes back into the bundle, and stuffing the harem outfit in his trunk, he stepped over to the room Anders had been given and placed the clothes on the bed. Then, with a sigh, he went back to his own room to start planning how to get Anders to trust him again.

Three days passed with no success. Every time he’d tried to get close, the mage either bolted or was carted away by the cook for “help.” He was on the verge of calling the whole thing off when he heard soft murmuring from around the corner of the corridor he was currently stalking. As he approached the corner the noise separated into two distinct voices.

“I’m sorry, Ser. Was there something you needed?” Quiet, guarded, and respectful. That was Anders.

“Actually,” this was a voice he didn’t recognize, “There is something you can help me with.”

Nathaniel frowned, and to all appearances faded from view. When he knew they wouldn’t be able to spot him, he stepped around the corner to watch.

Anders was backed into the wall, clutching a scroll in one hand, while the other was pressed flat to the stone behind him. The owner of the strange voice appeared to be one of the Vigil’s guards and he was currently leaning over the mage, with one hand resting just beside Anders’ head. The mage was trembling, and licking his lips, likely due to nerves. “I, ah… what do you need then, Ser?”

The guard leaned a little closer. “Why don’t you come back to my room and I’ll show you, hrm?”

Anders’ eyes darted back and forth as if looking for a way out. “I n-n-need to g-g-get this paper to, uh, the S-Seneschal. The C-Commander is counting on me.”

“It won’t take too long.” The guard grinned. “Just an hour or two. No one will miss you for that long.”

“B-b-but the Commander said--”

The guard reached his other hand up to cup Anders’ face. “Come on. If you don’t come with me willingly, I’ll just have to drag you, slave.”

Anders whimpered and slumped in apparent defeat.

Nathaniel had seen enough. How dare he touch Anders like that! He slipped up behind the man and pulled him off of Anders as he faded back into view. Taking the guard’s shoulders in his hands, he slammed the other man against the wall. “In case you forgot,” he hissed, “in the eyes of the commander, that mage is a free man. So unless you want a dagger buried in your heart, I suggest you leave him alone. Or next time, take no for an answer.” He slammed the guard into the wall on last time for good measure and then turned to Anders. “I’m sorry,” He said quietly. “Let’s get this message to the seneschal, and then if you’re willing, I’d like to sit and talk to you.”

Anders nodded and hurried along the corridor, keeping at least two feet of space between them.

After delivering the letter, Nathaniel paused out in the hallway. “Where would you like us to go?” He said. “Someplace public?” He wanted to give Anders an out.

Anders’ face lit up in a grin. “Our room,” he said firmly, forgiveness poured into those two words.

Nathaniel let out a relieved sigh and led the way back. When they reached the room, Nathaniel sat on his trunk in an attempt to let Anders sit by himself on the bed. Anders smiled and shook his head, pulling Nathaniel with him.

Nathaniel sighed. “I… made a mistake. A huge mistake. I’m not going to offer you excuses.” He rubbed his forehead. “When I told the Commander what happened, I begged him to take your papers back.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his back against the headboard. “I didn’t want to hurt you again, you understand, right? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Anders balled his fists into his robe. “I did do something wrong. And I did it today, too. I didn’t defend myself. I didn’t… say no.”

“None of it was your fault,” he repeated. “I’m too much like my father for my own good. You would be better off if you asked Thomais to sign your papers to someone else. Like the cook.”

Anders stared at him for a moment before his eyes watered and his bottom lip quivered. “You are not your father," he said firmly, before crawling over and flopping down in Nathaniel’s lap to give him a hug. He buried his nose in Nathaniel’s shoulder and sighed. “You’re a good person. You have to believe me. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have driven me away like that. You would have just hurt me.”

Nathaniel sat very still before he lifted his trembling arms and settled them around Anders, returning the hug. “If you say so,” He said softly.

“Of course I say so,” Anders replied. “You’re a good man, Nathaniel. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

Nathaniel chuckled and hugged Anders close. “You won’t be saying that in a few days.” The tone of his voice was amused. “The Templar will be here at the end of the week, to see if the environment is good enough to take on more slaves.”

Anders jerked away. “What?”

“According to our fearless leader, they're coming to evaluate us. That likely means seeing how well we do in taming troublemakers.” He sighed. “You and I are going to be what determines if Thomais gets to bring your friends here.”

Anders nodded slowly in understanding. He then let out a fearful noise and buried himself in Nathaniel’s arms again. “You won’t let them hurt me, will you?”

“Not without fight,” he assured the mage. “They won’t touch you if I have anything to say about it.”

Anders sighed happily. “Thank you…” he murmured.

Nathaniel patted his hair and smiled. Maybe I really am a good person…