literature

Memories

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He was making poultices when she came back. He had seen her a few times, at the Hanged Man after Varric dragged him there one night, in Lowtown occasionally. She dropped off some of the ingredients he was using now for these poultices a week before, saying she'd found a source of elfroot at Sundermount and she couldn't use it all herself.

It had been extremely welcome. There was only so much he could heal with his magic alone without exhausting himself and there were a few Ferelden refugees who refused magical help.

"I could never master herbalism," she said, leaning against the wall near his worktable. He smiled at her as he worked the mortar and pestle.

"One of those things they make you learn in the Tower," he said. "Handy for an apostate on the run, too. People will buy poultices from you without suspecting you're magical. I funded my third escape attempt with them. Got all the way to Lothering."

"You made it to Lothering?"

He winked at her. "Made it to Denerim, too, once."

"Really? Isabela said she spent a lot of time in Denerim. Maybe you do know each other."

"Maybe we do," Anders carefully scraped the mashed elfroot into a pot and started gathering other ingredients. "You're by yourself today?"

She nodded. "Varric's decided that Carver needs… education. Although what sort of education I can only shudder to guess. Isabela's investigating a job for some Prince of Starkhaven bloke. But I needed to see you and… I thought you might appreciate it not being in company."

He raised an eyebrow. When people wanted to see him alone these days, it usually meant complaints of the private kind. "What have you been up to?" he asked.

She looked confused for a moment, before her eyes widened and she laughed. "No, nothing like that. I just… I got the impression you might not have meant it, when you offered to help me on this expedition of ours."

"Ah," he picked up the small cast iron pot and slung it over the fire, adding water slowly. He was good at herbalism, like all aspects of healing. It soothed him. A menial task to occupy his hands. Alim had always wondered at him, that he happily made potions and poultices for the wardens. His reasoning had always been that it was better, by far, than going down to the deep roads. "What gave you that impression then?"

"Oh I don't know, the way you shudder in disgust whenever they're mentioned? Or the "I hate the blighted deep roads" conversation you had with Varric the other day? Or maybe it was…"

He held up his hands in surrender. "All right, I get the picture," he said, grinning. "I don't like the deep roads, but that's hardly news. I don't know anyone who does. Not even the sodding dwarfs like them, they just say they do because they're supposed to."

"It's more than that with wardens, though, I've heard."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Wardens sense darkspawn," he said. "The closer we are to them, the more… urgent it is. Kirkwall's been a nice change from Amaranthine in that regard. Vigil's Keep has deep roads right underneath it. We can always sense the darkspawn there."

"So if you come with us…"

"Let's just say don't put your bedroll near mine at night," Anders said. "I probably won't be sleeping very well."

"Does that mean you will come?"

"You helped me with…" a flash of memory, a face, a brand, made him stop and blink. "You helped me…"

"Yes, but that hardly ended well, did it?" He swallowed, a lump suddenly in his throat and her face fell. "I'm sorry," she said. "I… Carver says I never think before I speak. He's wrong. Most of the time."

Anders shook his head. "No… it's all right. Just because we couldn't… save him doesn't mean I didn't appreciate your help trying." He took a shaky breath. "If I'd gone in there by myself I'd be in the Gallows by now. Or dead. Or…" tranquil.

"I don't know. You took down a lot of those Templars on your own. We mostly did mop up."

He frowned. "Not on my own," he said. "And that's the problem."

There was a silence that would have been awkward if he didn't have things to do, adding water, smelling the mixture that was now gently bubbling over the fire.

"I didn't want to ask before… but you and Karl…"

He shut his eyes. "He was my lover, in the Ferelden circle," he said bluntly. "One of the first people I met when I was taken there."

"I'm truly sorry. I thought he must have been… more than a friend. Not many people would…do what you did for someone."

"Kill them?"

She looks shocked, then apologetic. "I was going to say, not many people would be so kind. I'd like to think there was someone out there who'd do the same for me." He looked at her, and her usual smirk was gone, her eyes troubled. "When Bethany was alive she would have… and I would have for her, but I doubt my pig headed ox of a brother would see it the way we do."

"Your sister… she was special to you?"

Hawke nodded. "It was nice, you know? To have a partner? Someone like me? She was always so much nicer. Than either of us." Her face hardened. "It should have been one of us, protecting mother. Mother certainly thinks so."

He winced. "Oh, I'm sure she…" Hawke cocked an eyebrow and he choked off his response. "You're right, I wouldn't know. But your brother…

She snorted. "He's spent the last five years whining. Ever since Father died. Grates on the ears after a while."

The elfroot mixture could be left for a while, and he motioned for her to sit on one of the cots. She patted the spot next to her and he settled down too, leaning his head back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him. The clinic was empty for a change - after the past week where he'd been busy non-stop it was a nice change to have some peace. "Your father was an apostate?"

She nodded. "He managed to escape the Gallows." She smiled, cocking her head on one side, eyes distant. "With the aid of a Templar, of all people," she said.

"Templars are useful if you can get them onside," he said. "They stopped assigning the nice ones to me pretty early on unfortunately."

She winced. "I heard stories about… what Templars do to mages in the Tower. My father was terrified Bethany or I would be taken."

Anders shrugged. "When any one group is given power over another there are going to be abuses," he said bitterly. Her face softened and he smiled sadly, shaking his head. "By the time I got to the Ferelden Circle Greagior was Knight Commander and he was… a decent sort, for a Templar. I was lucky. But a lot of the people I knew in the Tower weren't. Karl wasn't, although I didn't find that out for a long time. I think he protected me, actually. Taught me what to look out for. Not many mages had friends as… well informed as he was."

"I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it…"

"It's been a long time, since the Tower. I hadn't seen Karl in years - just written to him. And then I had to…" he swallowed, finding tears were threatening. Since Justice, keeping his emotions in check had been more difficult. Things that he would normally laugh off would drive him to rage, or tears. It had taken him months to act relatively normally and thinking about Karl was undoing all of that.

Or maybe it was because she was close enough that he could feel the heat from her skin, smell the slight hint of something fresh and grassy she must have used to wash her hair. He stole a glance at her. She was looking at her boots critically, as though they'd offended her somehow. Avoiding his eyes, he guessed. Embarrassed at his emotion, no doubt. He drew in a deep breath and got up from the cot. She caught his arm as he started to move away, though and he looked back down at her to find her looking up at him with an expression on her face that sent heat flaring through him.

Maker, Anders don't do this to yourself.

"Hey, I wasn't going to ask, but since you're here and probably in need of distracting - I ran into a Dalish elf in the alienage who's son is being chased by the Templars. Want to help me rescue him?"

He felt a slow smile spread across his face. "You really know how to cheer a man up, don't you?"

The grin that spread across her face was positively dirty. "I know a few tricks," she said, using his arm as leverage to stand. He steadied her when she wobbled a bit on the way up, regretful that she was wearing her leather gloves, desperately wanting to feel the smoothness of her skin against his own.

He let go as quickly as he could. "Point the way," he said.

"Last information led to just around here, actually. Fenris and Varric are going to meet me here in a few minutes."

"Fenris?"

"You don't like him, do you?"

Anders fiddled with a buckle on his coat, then shrugged. "No. Do you?"

She waggled an eyebrow. "There's plenty about him to like," she said. He flushed. "Oh, come on, you can't tell me you haven't thought the same."

He snorted with laughter. "Funnily enough, no. I have some standards. Unlike some of the company you keep."

"Oh, Isabela agrees with me on this score." She shrugged. "But that's beside the point. He owes me, and he's good in a fight. That's enough for me. He's better company than Carver most of the time too. At least he doesn't talk much. Any way, the information we have says the boy's probably in the hands of slavers, I would have had to tie him down to stop him from coming."

"Oh well, who you want in a fight is your business, not mine."

She frowned at him. "It's your business too, if you're going to be fighting with us," she said.

Anders didn't want to go into it, why the lyrium in the elf's skin made parts of him yearn, it sings! why the man's hatred of mages had him constantly struggling to control the spirit within. Just being near Fenris was a trial.

But she would be there. That was worth… pretty much anything. "I'll be fine," he said. "Let's go."

These are out of order, I know, guys. I'll post the order they're supposed to go in when I move them all into their own folder, which will be soon. In the mean time, this one is set just after "Help" so second in the series so far.

Getting them in sequence :D. Next up is here: [link]
© 2011 - 2024 Miri1984
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CatOfEvilGenius's avatar
Does this mean we get a chapter about helping Fenriel! Yay! Or is that already posted and I missed it?

I like the bit where Anders uses potion making to calm himself, nice touch. :) I wonder if it smells like Vicks or something slightly less nasty?