The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. I get no money for writing this sequel.
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-- The Free Marches - Vimmark Mountains Aldera Hawke: My mind kept going in circles as we moved away from Kirkwall. I usually had a list of things to work on at almost any time. Now it was only escape.
I better understood now, what Mother and Papa had to consider when they had to move and protect the five of us. Merrill knew how to travel without notice far better than I. Anders was used to keeping himself safe with his escapes.
What did I really know?
I knew how to kill, very quickly. And I was good at traps and locks. There weren't all that many traps here in the mountains. Or people to kill. Or, as least I hoped not. Tonight I could almost hear Aveline ask me, 'What now, Hawke?' They'd all asked at one time or another.
What was left? I had nothing left. I'd been refugee, daughter and sister, rogue, smuggler, leader, explorer, new-money noble, and Champion, mostly for the best reasons. All gone, now I was a fugitive for an ugly act I hated.
Desperately trying to keep busy and not think once we camped, I removed my armor and examined it. Changing the look of my armor without damaging its protection was important, and I had to finish it quickly. I needed it to gain new wear before we met anyone. I still wasn't sure if I wanted to change my Champion armor, in the off-chance I'd ever want to appear as myself again. Red and black were really too noticeable for a rogue. Even so, I felt like I was removing all traces of my life, leaving me adrift.
Once I'd propped the armor up to dry near the fire when I was done, I sat back, still feeling fidgety. It might be dry by morning, which I had to pray to the Maker would be enough. I'd have to think carefully about Anders' gear later, as I didn't think we could change his much. Merrill wasn't going as hunted as we were, she managed to seem unthreatening enough that people forgot her, even though she'd fought the Qunari leader too.
Looking up to the sky, there were few stars visible and I hoped we wouldn't get any sudden mountain downpours. Merrill had settled to rest a while before.
Anders was poking and poking and poking the fire with a long stick while I'd worked.
I didn't have any idea how to help him, to help them. I wanted so much to save him from himself. I couldn't rescue myself right now. I just didn't know what to do.
Bigpaws noticed I was done working and got up to come over to nose me for a scratch. I felt a little better.
“Hawke?” came from Anders a moment later.
I looked over, wondering what was coming. I had no idea.
We just looked at each other, his face almost colorless in the fire's light. He finally sadly raised a entreating hand towards me and an instant later I was in his arms. Someone's bones creaked from our embrace, but I didn't care.
Finally we settled beside each other by the fire with arms around each other.
With my head on his shoulder, he asked quietly, “What's wrong, my dear?”
I admitted, “I don't know. Everything, nothing... nothing you don't already know. I usually knew what I was doing, or like for the Arishok, there wasn't any time. Now, I really don't know. What do I do now?”
Anders said quietly, “I'm really not the one to ask, Hawke.” His eyes flashed with a brighter light than the fire could give. “You've already stuck your neck out for mages so much. And for me,” he said with some satisfaction while pulling me closer, “I wanted to keep you safely away from it.”
I could not resist getting pissed at this useless statement, and punched his shoulder, hard. Struggling to keep my voice down I protested, “
That for your keeping me out of it! I knew too many of the powerful in Kirkwall personally by then... I couldn't be out of it!”
This made me mad enough to spit. All the years of the stupidity of him keeping me out of his mage resistance to protect me? That my help wasn't wanted and I wasn't good enough to help? That he didn't trust me after this many years? I must have said that, as Anders' face fell.
That wouldn't help him this time, I'd been miserable about this long enough and I poked him in the chest angrily, “They named me a Champion. I wanted to help the Circle mages, even
Meredith knew that! What would I have done if Aveline asked for me to investigate the Chantry attack? You know me, I could not have stayed out of it when you left me ignorant. And we would have found out what happened, enough...” I choked back a sob, my throat so tight I couldn't speak for a moment.
Pulling in a deep breath, I wailed, “Enough to know their blood was on my hands too... Not just the asses, but the innocent too. So many innocent who died because she was your target!” I clawed at his robes, getting angrier that he wasn't saying anything in response.
We hadn't seen any bodies in Kirkwall, we'd had to flee, but my imagination painted all those who would be in Chantries, large and small.
Hitting his chest with my fists, I cried with each hit, “Sick people, the faithful, children, visitors, scholars, cooks...” I was crying so hard I couldn't see, for all the unseen, humble people, caught in this... murder, and I hit him harder as I listed more people he'd... no, we'd killed.
I couldn't stop, too many small bodies in wreckage like so many I'd been sick over through the years.
Dimly, I heard a voice shouting my name and realized someone was uselessly trying to restrain my wrists. Blinking, my eyes swimming with tears, I couldn't see who.
I could taste the coppery tang of blood.
My fists were wet with it and I realized that it was Merrill trying to stop me.
Wiping my eyes, he hadn't ducked all that much.
Oh, Maker... Now that she had my attention, Merrill dropped to her knees and cast her lesser healing magic on him, A coldness sank over my mind and I rolled away, afraid to be close. As she was carefully wiping up the blood, I pulled a rag and tried to scrub the blood off myself. He wasn't even conscious, and the rest of me wailed again in my head.
I went back to the far side of the fire and watched them, huddled in on myself and feeling wretched. I wanted to forgive him, but I was beginning to fear I couldn't completely. I could only be glad I didn't have a weapon handy.
I didn't want to continue this vengeance obsession that was almost a disease in Kirkwall. We'd escaped, hadn't we?
After a few more minutes I curled up behind the drying armor and faded into a restless sleep. There Anders died in that courtyard from my knifing him in a fountain of blood and expanding blue lightning. Another courtyard where Meredith gave me a matched pair of fancy, glowing daggers like hers as a reward for his execution. I used them to kill the rest of the Circle to the cheers of crowds. Sebastian and Fenris seemed pleased for a change and I ruled as the new Viscount. I made sure the streets were safer, killing any who made trouble, a river of blood in my wake now. It was peaceful, but I was dead inside as I surveyed another group of executions with no expression.
Sitting up, still in the dark of night, I only barely managed to not scream.
Strong arms pulled me close, and a voice reminded me, “Shh, shh. Those were only dreams, Aldera,” Anders stroked my hair until I could stop shaking.
“I killed you, it was so real... So much blood. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you,” I blubbered with a cheek against his chest before looking up at the outline of his head against the starlight. “Are you okay? There was so much blood, blood on my hands and blood from the bodies, spraying all over the courtyard.”
His voice soothing, Anders said with the tiniest bit of humor, “I'm fine. You didn't even break my nose, just bloodied it. Well, that and a sock to my jaw, but I've always said I was delicate.”
I reached up, maybe to feel if his nose was swollen or bent, but he honked as soon as I touched him, making me jump. Then he laughed, pulling me close after a kiss on my forehead.
Befuddled, I had to say, “I don't think I could have kept going if I'd killed you then... or now. It happened in my nightmare and it was only pain. Mages should be free. It's your methods...”
Breathing a deep sigh, Anders said, “Yes. It seemed so necessary and correct. It will work, it has to work. It has broken that alliance of Chantry and Templars in Kirkwall at least. But...” He put his head against mine and breathed quietly for a moment.
“I don't remember my dreams anymore,” he said in a sad voice, seeming to change the subject. “I used to walk freely in them. That is encouraged in young apprentices, as practice and study of the Fade. Especially for those they think have the talent to become spirit healers, despite the disapproval of the Templars. My Harrowing was quick, as I gained help of spirits against the demon.”
I couldn't see much at night, but maybe it was easier for us to talk now away from people. He rarely talked with me about his time before Kirkwall, except in the most general way. That's why his sniping at Nathaniel had been such a surprise.
“Did you become a spirit healer then? Did those spirits help with that too?” I had to ask.
“I was a spirit healer once, and a fine one, even by Circle standards if they didn't mind that I kept escaping,” Anders said with a slight smile in his voice, before adding, “No, they didn't help there, but I'd meet helpful spirits and could feel them about me while awake sometimes. While dreaming I almost always could feel them even if I didn't see them. In dreams, I never lacked the energy to do magic, even if there was rarely the need. Being in the Fade was more homelike for me than that tower for much of my life, especially the one lonely year where I spent so much of it in the Fade. There I might find spirits to speak with. I could just be, there where no Templars could follow me.”
“So your dreams were some kind of haven?” I asked carefully, feeling puzzled. “And they aren't anymore? Is that... why you aren't a spirit healer now?”
“I don't know,” he admitted, “I only knew one other spirit healer, and she didn't chafe under the Chantry rule as much, so she was allowed out more often. That was supposed to be a lesson for me, I suspect.” He sighed and pulled me closer, saying, “No, my dreams stopped when Justice joined me. I'm still connected to the Fade, perhaps more strongly than before but... all the old paths for my magic changed and I lost much of my skills beyond basic healing. Maybe she might know something to help me with splitting with Justice, but she was old years ago when I saw her last in Amaranthine with the Warden.”
“We could try to go there,” I offered, even if I had no idea how long it would take to sneak there.
Stroking my hair again, he admitted, “She was going to Orlais at the time, and had aged during her time fighting the Archdemon according to the Warden. Though, if anyone could refuse to die from sheer willpower it would be her.” he said with a smile.
I had to ask, “The Warden, the Warden, doesn't she have a name? Even in that book written by that Chantry scholar, she was only called that. It's like she's the only one there is.”
“It was nearly that after Ostager, you were there where most died,” Anders admitted. “You missed the bulk of the Blight, my dear. Lothering was only something like a sortie before the battles at Denerim and Amaranthine. The Warden wept much of the march after Amaranthine burnt.”
Poking his chest with a finger, I protested, “You're doing it too.”
With a pause, he said, “It's hard not to. It wasn't that far from the truth either, as there were only two Grey Wardens in all Ferelden left after Ostagar. She'd only had her Joining the day before that battle, and Alistair only months before her. Two novice wardens against the Darkspawn horde, and a bounty on their heads for the better part of a year.”
“Her name,” I insisted.
His snicker wasn't quite silent enough when he was holding me like this.
I wanted him to laugh more, but he could damned well answer the question. I was wary of hitting him, even as a joke now.
Finally he said with a smile in his voice, “Cousland, Attryne Cousland. Sister to the current Teyrn, even if her rank is officially gone after her Joining.”
She had everything and became a Hero, while I only became a fugitive for doing what I thought was right. My heart was in my throat. This was envy that cut so much deeper than just over Anders' past with her, and my next breath was ragged.
“Hawke!” Anders said with worry as he hugged me tightly, his voice a little faster and higher than normal. “She hated being called that, even when it was only a gesture of respect, she often winced. Much like being called 'Champion,' I think. I don't know if you'd get along or not if you met. We were such an odd group at the Vigil. She fought with dual swords usually, and damn strong too. I really
was the delicate one in her wake.”
Sometimes I didn't get along that well with Isabela or Aveline, and I really didn't want to think about those implications. But then the affection in his voice sank in, and I had to wonder, “Did you sleep with her?”
Tracing my cheeks with his fingers Anders said with a smile I could hear, “You don't have to be jealous, my dear. She spent a lot of quieter times moping for the other Ferelden warden, Alistair. Not that I didn't suggest it once or twice.”
I took a deep breath and held it to stay quiet for a moment. That news hurt, as it was so much longer that I'd wanted Anders without any suggestions like that from him. He'd kept pushing me away for year after year, but had known her for only months. I'd been nearly convinced by his denials those years, even if I lacked the heart to pursue another if I was still pining for him. All I could manage was an, “Oh,” with a clenched jaw.
“No, my dear. It wasn't you. Justice had another host, a warden named Kristoff then,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “I flirted a lot back then. He accused me of not caring and being unfocussed.”
“Did he die, that Justice needed a new host?” I asked after I calmed a little. “Or did he get free somehow?”
“Err, well... Kristoff was already dead when Justice was pushed out of the Fade with us,” Anders said reluctantly.
I was getting more confused, not less, and probed, “So he was a kind of undead, like a corpse zombie?” Then the rest hit me, “You said 'us,' were you all mages, was Justice another mage trapped there like that kid elf?” Whose name I kept forgetting, if not his earnest face.
“No, he was a warrior spirit. I really don't know how it was done, there was a powerful, intelligent darkspawn named the First and a demon possessed Baroness involved in our being forced into the Fade where he existed. We were all sent through while awake and he was pushed back out with us later,” he said uncertainly. “No mages who knew more than I about the Fade even investigated while I was at the Vigil. Kristoff was already gone to the Maker when we found his body, we never met him while he was alive. Justice used his corpse and even grew attached to his memories and widow a bit.”
That certainly didn't sound like the spirit I knew of, on even a good day. “Do you have any of Kristoff's memories now?”
“I...” Anders paused, and then stopped. “I don't think so, but I met Aura when we returned and delivered news of her husband's death by the well, so...”
He paused a longer time, then stiffened and nearly whispered, “Maker!” as his eyes rolled back too far.
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A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.
