I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[Lena Wolf]

I get the feeling that you're doing a first-run playthrough of Elsweyr during these chapters, eh?

Yes, I went exploring Elsweyr and Valenwood and these are the stories from there. I haven't been back yet but there are plans... for some time in the future...

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E411 - Lovers

Dorian was standing near the entrance of the Grey Warden Head Quarters in the Anderfels looking over the hills leading to it, covered in darkspawn corpses. Darkspawn attacks were now happening every day, and even he started sensing them approach, despite not being a Grey Warden himself - his blight infection allowed him to sense other blighted beings.

"My blight must be deepening," he was thinking. "I can sense darkspawn now... well... when they are practically on top of us, but still... They say darkspawn can sense Grey Wardens just as well as Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn... I am not darkspawn yet... oh boy..." He shook his head and decided not to tell Anders or Avernus about his new sense, although he realised it was pointless - they would sense it. "So then why continue with blood treatments?" He noticed a corpse of an ogre among the lesser darkspawn. "To keep it from taking over too quickly... to give me time... Time for what?" He searched for a creature that was leading the darkspawn, an Emissary perhaps, or even a Hurlock Alpha, but there wasn't such a corpse on the ground. "Time to gather the courage to drink from the Joining Cup..." He smirked at himself. "Magister Pavus... Narrowly missed becoming the Archon of Tevinter... soon to be a Grey Warden... or die... one way or the other..."

"You do not have to survive the Joining to become a Grey Warden," he heard Anders' voice behind him. "You become a Grey Warden before you drink from the Cup. The sacrifice of those Wardens that did not survive the Joining, is perhaps the greatest of all."

"You read my mind?" Dorian smirked.

"No, I guessed," Anders stood next to him. "You've been coming here every day for the past week, looking at the darkspawn corpses. You can sense them now, right? Oh, I've seen so many blighted people... I am a healer, remember?" He smiled, hugging Dorian around the shoulders. "The blood treatments that we give you, can only slow the progression, they cannot change the outcome... and I know how it progresses..."

"And all those other people don't get even that..." Dorian nodded.

"We've only just discovered..."

"I know, I didn't mean..." Dorian turned to face Anders, hugging him too. "I didn't mean any rebuke..." He touched Anders' face, their eyes met. "There's no longer any need to hold back" - Lucanis' words sounded in his mind. Anders wasn't just a friend... if only Dorian had allowed himself to see it earlier...


~~~~~~~~~~
In this episode Anders and Dorian discuss some very personal matters stretching back to the events during Inquisition. I judge it unsuitable for this forum, although it contains no explicit scenes. The unabridged version is published on my website (hint: the title of this episode is a link).

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E411 - Scouts

"It's an Emissary!" Harding put her head through the door of a bedroom in the Grey Warden Head Quarters. "Hey guys! Wake up!"

"Hmm..?" Anders opened one eye. "Who's an emissary? Huh? Harding..?"

"Yeah, I know, it's barely dawn," she entered the room, closing the door behind her. "But I have news."

"Good or bad?" Lucanis woke up too. "Does it have to be this early in the morning?"

"It does. I am being watched." Harding looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone to stand there. "I have this weird feeling... like my skin is crawling..."

"What?!" That got Anders' full attention and he sat up. "Since when?"

"Since... umm... a week, may be?" Harding looked uncertain. "Why? Is this bad?" She sounded worried.

"Yes."

"May be."

Anders and Lucanis said together.

"You don't know it yet, don't worry her prematurely," Lucanis pointed out, getting out of bed. "I'll make coffee."

"Don't worry me about what?" Harding shifted uncomfortably. "Can you figure it out? One way or the other?"

"I can and I will," Anders got out of bed too and pulled on a robe.

"She's a dwarf," Lucanis said watching the coffee rise in the pot over the fire.

"Yes, but dwarves aren't immune to magic," Anders shook his head, sitting down on the floor before Harding. "They just can't cast their own... Let's see..." He cast a spell that covered Harding in shimmering mist.

"That tickles," she giggled.

"Does it now?"

Anders cast another spell and the cloud of mist became a sphere. He touched it, sending ripples along the surface.

"It's a benevolent spell," he concluded, dismissing the sphere. "Someone put a shield around you, but not like anything I've seen before... hmm..."

"If it's benevolent, there's nothing to worry about," Lucanis concluded, handing Anders his coffee and Harding her tea. "It's good to have friends."

"A shield..?" Harding moved her shoulders. "Well... it fits with what I came to tell you..." She took a sip of her tea gathering her thoughts. "Varric found a darkspawn Emissary to lead the horde, at least the one around here. His plan is to defeat the Blight, but it involves destroying Grey Wardens in the process... what's left of them..." She sighed. "He reasons that the horde is confused because we've had two Archdemons and a goddess trying to lead it, and now that all three are dead, it is disoriented and not returning to the Deep Roads as it would normally do. He wants to give it a leader, let it rise and then slay the leader, thus pushing the horde into its usual cycle and making it retreat. But as there are no Archdemons currently... he found a darkspawn Emissary powerful enough to lead a large horde. He made a deal of some sort... it's one of those intelligent darkspawn, you know..." She shot Anders a glance and he nodded.

"That explains the attacks on this fortress. But if there is a deal, the Emissary will exact payment. What does he want?"

"That's the trouble - I don't know," Harding looked apologetic. "I got caught a couple of times, the game is up."

"You should come here then, stay with us," Anders said firmly. "Don't go back."

"But..." Harding started to argue, then gave up. "Oh, whom am I kidding? She won't even notice..."

"She already did," Anders smiled. "This shield around you... I think it's qunari magic. Stay here, Lace. Your life is in danger."

...

"A war of attrition then," Alistair summarised the news when Anders told him what transpired. "All we have to do is stay put and avoid losses. We won't be able to find this Emissary yet, we can't even sense him..."

"His taint blends in with the horde," Anders nodded. "But if there is to be a decisive confrontation, he'll eventually come to us."

"I wonder what he wants and what would be his payment?" Alistair mused.

"I can guess the payment," Anders said darkly. "Grey Warden blood to awaken more darkspawn. Or red lyrium. Or both."

"Like in that prison..?" Alistair sat up.

"Exactly like in that prison."

"He has no intention of dying then."

"This is the next Blight in the making."

"Damn."

...

It seemed they were not progressing but simply moving from one dilemma to the next. Varric's plan made sense in terms of suppressing the current Blight, but Grey Wardens could not accept that the trade-off should be the rise of the next one. They had to find and slay that Emissary, but not before he'd shown leadership of the horde, just as Varric planned.

"He is planning to escape..." Anders was talking to himself. "We must not allow him to escape... but how to stop him if we don't know what he's planning?"

He descended into the dungeons which were deserted, he wanted to think, to dream may be. Could he find answers in the Fade? So far, all roads led to it...

"May be Morrigan can help?" He wondered aloud. "Kieran said she'd be here... she isn't here yet... hmm..."

He turned a corner and pushed a door, entering a lavishly furnished bedroom, one of the "dungeon cells" for highly placed visitors that he'd discovered before. He shook his head at the red lava lamps and started pulling off his boots, not wanting to spoil the bed.

"Finally," a voice came from behind the curtains. "And take that robe off as well, while you're at it..."

"Taash?" Anders spun around. "What are you..?"

"Doing here?" She laughed. "Waiting for you, Kadash. I knew you'd come here sooner or later. To dream, yes? Well, I have news for you."

"Alright, let's hear it," Anders jumped onto the bed, sitting down to face Taash.

"Mythal will be here soon enough," Taash stretched out on the cushions. "She's in the Fade... The Emissary asked for red lyrium, or rather people seeded with red lyrium..." She frowned and shook her head. "It's as bad as it gets... Varric is seeding them."

"What?!" Anders nearly jumped. "He's a bastard, I always knew it, but this is madness! Varric would not do such a thing!"

"Well, he's changed... He's doing it." Taash was unwavering.

"Varric knows all too well what red lyrium does to people," Anders shook his head. "His brother... err... well... never mind that. Varric I know would never do that," he concluded firmly.

"Now you see why I put a shield around Harding," Taash smiled. "She's so... trusting... naïve even... She'd never believe it possible. Not her fellow dwarf... Not Varric... A bit like you now. I realise you went through a lot together during the Inquisition, but I'm telling you - he's changed."

"Whom is he seeding?" Anders looked grim.

"Whoever is around."

"Most will die."

"Some already have," Taash nodded. "A few folks in the village... This is bad, Kadash."

"He has to die then. The risk is too great."

"This is a trap," Taash looked at Anders sternly. "He is counting on you saying that. He wants you dead."

"But why?" Anders shook his head. "It isn't like him... We quarreled, I insulted him, I get it. He's bitter and sore, but sacrificing innocents in order to set a trap, wanting me dead for calling him names? No, that cannot be it."

"The village has been evacuated, I took care of that," Taash said simply. "There are just a few people left in the Keep... Davrin and Bellara, wrapped up in their romance... Neve... Harding and me..."

"Bellara and Neve... Davrin is a Grey Warden," Anders rubbed his face. "He won't seed him, he'll hand him over as is... But Bellara and Neve are both mages... ideal... We have to protect them."

"You never cease to amaze me, Kadash," Taash shook her head. "Neve tried to kill you... she probably still wants you dead, out of spite if anything... and you want to protect her?"

"Red lyrium... no... no one deserves that..."

"Well... I'll try... but I cannot protect them all..."

"No, Taash, you cannot... We need a different approach. We need to find out what happened to Varric, why he's changed. I'll talk to Harding, she's staying here..."

"Good!" Taash exclaimed a little too eagerly. "I mean... good."

"It's alright, your secret is safe with me," Anders laughed. "I know your qunari ways..."

...

"Are you sure this will work?" Varric stared at an elven mage, almost literally pinning her in place with his gaze. "It better work! Red lyrium is bad stuff..."

"It will work, Varric," the mage smiled at him. "It worked on me. They even booted me out of their Order! The one and only Grey Warden to lose her Warden sense... and the blight infection, too."

"But he isn't an elf, he's a human," Varric sighed. "It's not the same."

"It's close enough. It doesn't matter in this case."

"Well, you better be sure..." Varric shook his head, still very unsure himself. "Those people in the darkspawn prison... they didn't look very healthy with red lyrium in their bodies."

"Those people were not blighted. The blight changes everything."

"Hmm... I saw darkspawn handle red lyrium, but they didn't get cured... I don't know if I trust you, mage."

"Do you have a choice?" The mage smiled again. "Your friend is a lyrium addict, and he is also blighted. It won't be long before he dies, unless you take pity on him and kill him yourself. I am offering you a solution. Remember what happened to Samson."

"Samson went mad!"

"He didn't. But he overdosed. You only need the smallest amount..."

"No." Varric shook his head. "No. Red lyrium - no. If Hawke has to die, then he'll die, but he'll die a man and not a piece of darkspawn."

"Suit yourself," the mage shrugged. "I even know where to find an Emissary who could help you... but have it your way. Find me if you change your mind."

The mage smiled one last time, turned around and left. Varric shook his head and went back to the upper bedroom where Hawke was thrashing in his sleep.

"Now you got yourself into one hot mess," Varric sat next to his bed. "I don't know if I can fix it, Hawke." He touched Hawke's forehead - Hawke had a fever. "Time for your medicine," Varric decided, opening a small ornate box containing a vial of blue liquid. "Come on now, Hawke, just a drop..." He steadied Hawke's head on the pillow and opened his mouth, letting one drop of lyrium extract fall onto the tongue. "There..." Hawke swallowed instinctively, moaned slightly and turned over, breathing a lot easier. "At least you don't feel the pain when you are asleep..."

...

Varric couldn't sleep. The Emissary wanted a mage seeded with red lyrium in exchange for his services of acting as the leader of the darkspawn horde roaming the Anderfels. A mage that was strong enough to survive not just the seeding but also the growth - survive a few days after seeding, the most critical time. Varric tried seeding a local healer from the village, but that mage wasn't strong enough and died on the first day. "Probably wasn't even a proper mage," Varric shook his head. "I can't sense that..." He sighed and got up, taking a small key off a chain around his neck. The key opened a box near his bed, and from there he took out a letter.

He's weak but we're managing. He's got a few more months before things get dire. Do not rush it but also do not delay. Be careful.

He re-read the letter several times, he knew it by heart already. Do not rush it but also do not delay... The ritual would not take long, the mage assured him, but he needed to get the ingredients: red lyrium and darkspawn blood - not just from any darkspawn, it had to be "awakened", that is - intelligent. Wolf first encountered such darkspawn soon after the end of the Fifth Blight, but they had existed for a long time before that already. They ingested Grey Warden blood to break their dependency on the song of the Blight, with varying success. The Architect was still experimenting, still refining the formula. The discovery of red lyrium gave him something new to work with... because of course darkspawn knew of red lyrium long before Varric and the others discovered it during that ill-fated expedition into the Deep Roads. Red lyrium was lyrium infected with the Blight.

At first Varric did not want to hear of any "solution" that involved blood magic or red lyrium, but he was running out of options. Hawke contracted the blight somehow, and could not even explain how or when it happened exactly. His lyrium addiction made him forgetful, he would roam the streets of Kirkwall when withdrawal was setting in, and Varric would have to go looking for him and implore him to take the next doze. There was no cure from lyrium addiction! And Hawke was not Cullen - Cullen could shrug it off, Hawke could not. "Cullen didn't exactly shrug it off either," Varric was reflecting on the time of the Inquisition when Cullen quit the templars order and decided to stop taking lyrium overnight. Withdrawal nearly killed him several times, and Varric suspected that it was only Wolf's blood that kept Cullen alive, although he did not know what Wolf and Cassandra were doing exactly to make sure that Cullen always woke up in the morning.

One day a mage knocked on Varric's door, a mage he was acquainted with for many years, although never knew her well enough. It was Fiona, the leader of rebel mages during the Kirkwall uprising and the mage-templar war. She claimed to know a ritual that could purge both the blight and the lyrium addiction from Hawke's body, thus saving his life. It was a blood magic ritual of course, and it required a small amount of red lyrium and a few drops of blood from an "awakened" darkspawn. It was perfectly safe, she kept assuring Varric, and she knew it would work because that was how she lost her Grey Warden taint, which is of course the same thing as the Blight!

Varric did not believe her. He did not believe the story that Grey Warden taint could just "fizzle out". He made inquiries... and came up with absolutely nothing. She may or may not have been telling the truth... The Order of the Grey may have been corrupted somewhat, but it still kept its secrets.

A few months passed and the blight got hold of Hawke's body, causing him more and more pain. He started hearing the song... Lyrium helped with that a little, but not enough to blot it out, and the more lyrium he took, the more side effects he suffered... There was no way out.

It was then that one of Varric's connections informed him of a strange ritual being prepared in Minrathous by none other but Solas - the elven mage that Varric got rather friendly with during the time of the Inquisition. Rumour had it that Solas was Fen'Harel, an ancient elven god of lies... What rubbish! Solas was old, certainly, but elves had such long life spans. He was no god!

By coincidence or by design, Fiona re-appeared in Kirkwall just then, bumping into Varric on several occasions. Eventually Varric gave in and decided to ask her what she wanted in return for performing the ritual that would deliver Hawke from the clutches of the Blight.

"What I want is what everyone wants really - I want the Blight defeated once and for all," she smiled. "Or at least defeated well enough so that it leaves us alone for centuries, like before. Not for twenty years, but for centuries."

"I don't think I can do that," Varric laughed. "But I want that too."

"Well, then we are in agreement!" Fiona beamed at him. "You cannot do it yourself, granted. Grey Wardens have to do it, but they will need help... guidance even... The Order of the Grey is corrupt, my friend... they are no longer capable of dealing with darkspawn. The Blight is on the rise again, a mere two decades after an Archdemon was killed. Grey Wardens are not keeping us safe any longer."

"What makes you think that the Blight is on the rise?" Varric squinted. "There's always darkspawn about, they never really vanish. I haven't heard of any massive attacks anywhere..."

"Not yet, but you will before long, mark my words," she smiled. "So, if you are willing to get involved... to guide Grey Wardens to victory... then I shall save your friend."

"I see," Varric squinted. "And what is your personal interest in this? Because this isn't payment."

"I wish to keep that private," Fiona declined to answer. "I assure you that it has nothing to do with you or your friend and will not harm you in any way."

"I don't like it... I am going to regret it, I know it!" Varric threw his hands in the air. "But if I don't do it, Hawke will die... and if you're right about the Blight and the Wardens... we all will die... arrghhh..."

It was the most unbelievable and unlikely story that Varric could imagine, and so it was probably true. Something about it rang true anyway. Another Blight... the Wardens not up to the task... after the great fiasco with Warden-Commander Clarel during the Inquisition, Varric could believe they were not up to the task...

"Alright, I'll do it," he turned to Fiona. "Where do I begin?"

"I am glad you agreed, Varric," she beamed at him, signaling the bartender. "We drink a toast to this! It is no small task, but you can do it. Start by talking to Solas in Minrathous. Bring a friend... a Grey Warden... but one that is rough around the edges... how about... Anders, from Ferelden? You know him, I believe?"

"Blondie?" Varric laughed. "Oh yes. Rough around the edges and then some..."

"Make him the leader... but of course the real leader will be you," she winked. "Talk to Solas, like I said... the rest will fall into place as you proceed."

...

"The rest will fall into place..." Varric smirked, remembering Fiona's words. He did as she asked, he got Anders to come along and went to talk to Solas who was... tearing down the Veil! Solas was in the process of destroying the world, Blight and all... Varric could not believe it, and yet there it was... Solas was Fen'Harel... "What a hot mess!" He swore. "But we are making progress. The Blight will be defeated and Hawke will be saved. It will only take one sacrifice... one more sacrifice..." He corrected himself, remembering the village healer who did not survive the seeding. "Neve or Bellara?"

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E411 - Viper

"You aren't as unapproachable as people make you out to be," Neve kissed Anders on the mouth. "I liked that."

"What?" Anders looked at her in bewilderment. "Neve? What..? Where are we?" He propped himself on an elbow and looked around. They were in one of those luxurious rooms furnished for discerning customers, with silks in velvets, furs and lace. A large and comfortable bed took centre stage. It wasn't a four-poster bed of the North, but rather a low bed of warmer climes, strewn with cushions on and around it. A guilded waterpipe and an elegant red brass coffee set were placed on a low table intricately inlaid with rare woods, mother-of-pearl and abalone shell. The lighting was soft, coming from beautifully wrought brass lamps, some of which were burning sweet incense... "Are we in the Fade?" Anders looked at Neve again. "No... it doesn't feel like the Fade..."

"It isn't the Fade," Neve shook her head. "I always knew you could tell the difference. We are in Minrathous."

"Which brothel?" Anders smirked.

"It's... well... it isn't technically a brothel," Neve gave a short laugh. "Well, very few people know that it is one, in fact. It is a very respectable establishment... But since I know their little secret, they let me use this room without charge. I had to bring you somewhere special," she beamed at him.

"So you knocked me on the head and teleported," Anders rubbed a throbbing spot on the base of his skull. "Why?"

"You interest me," Neve smiled, stroking his face. "No, really."

"Aha," Anders took another look at himself and Neve. "But you didn't strip me naked."

"That is so... unrefined," Neve cringed. "We'll get to that in time, I'm sure."

"Is there any coffee in that pot?" Anders pointed at the coffee set on the low table. "My head needs clearing."

"We can get fresh coffee..." Neve pulled on a cord behind her. "Sweets, too... whatever... just... stay with me a while, will you?" She sounded pleading and Anders was taken aback. This wasn't the arrogant and self-assured investigator that he knew so far, this was a woman in need of a friend... Or at least that was how it sounded, and Anders had to remind himself that Neve was an excellent performer, too.

"I'll stay because you'll need to teleport me back to the Anderfels," he got up from the bed and stretched. "There's no point in me just walking out of here if we're in Minrathous. It will take me days to get back. Besides, I want to know why you did this."

"Varric wants to seed me with red lyrium and deliver me to a darkspawn Emissary in exchange for the Emissary's assistance in defeating the Blight," Neve said in one breath like a well-rehearsed speech. "Please help me!"

"I see," Anders nodded. "So, first you try to kill me, and now you ask for my protection?" He smirked, turning to her.

"Yes," she answered in a small voice.

"Ah, here is coffee," there was a knock on the door and Anders answered it, letting in a servant with a tray of coffee and sweets. "I want to know everything, Neve," he said, pouring the coffee. "Why did Solas want me dead? Why is Varric seeding people with red lyrium? Why do you think I can protect you?"

"You don't know?" Neve smiled, sitting down by the coffee table. "No, I guess you do... you just want to hear me say it... hear what I know..." She squinted at him. "You aren't very good at concealment, Anders," she smirked.

"I am not trying to conceal anything," he shook his head. "I am quite an open book..."

"Rubbish."

"Oh?"

"You make people believe you're not that much of a mage while in fact it's the opposite," Neve offered.

"I never made people believe any such thing," Anders shrugged. "People believe it all by themselves for some reason and then get surprised when I knock them out or slit my wrists."

"You are not saying it but you behave like a mage who isn't much of a mage... You behave like a loser!" Neve frowned.

"Oh, because I drink, sleep around and get into bar fights?" Anders laughed.

"Yes. Tevinter is in many ways a very conservative country."

"I guess I don't fit the mold."

"And then Dorian goes and buys you as a slave, and that just confirms everyone's suspicions, especially when it becomes obvious what Dorian wanted with you..." Neve rolled her eyes. "Sex rather than magic."

"Dear Dorian," Anders smiled. "We worked very hard on that particular impression."

"Not everyone was sold on it, however," Neve nodded.

"But Neve... This is all very amusing but it doesn't answer my question. Why did Solas want me dead?"

"He didn't explain," Neve looked down. "And I didn't insist... What he was offering me was worth to me not asking questions."

"Magister Gallus."

"That, yes," Neve looked up. "But mostly proof that your Chantry is wrong and we did not corrupt the Golden City!"

"You haven't got that proof yet," Anders pointed out. "You have just found proof that humans did not destroy Arlathan because it was already destroyed during the elven civil war."

"Well... yes," Neve nodded. "I didn't get everything I wanted... hmm... And then you went and turned Solas to stone!" She added indignantly.

"Oh, forgive me for saving us all from imminent annihilation!" Anders picked up her tone.

"You didn't have to rush with that!" Neve raised her voice some more.

"Is that why you tried to confuse Emmrich?" Anders smiled. "Perhaps even kill him?"

"But it didn't work, so forget it."

"No, I won't forget it." Anders got up and walked around the room, a bowl of dried figs and dates in his hand. "You opposed us on every step of the way, starting with the runes for Zara. Oh yes, I remember those!" He cut off Neve's objections. "You had placed those runes knowing full well what that pool was for! Blood magic didn't bother you then as it doesn't bother you know, and I shall not hear anything to the contrary! Lucanis was right - there's more than one kind of a blood mage."

"So you won't help me," Neve said in a fallen voice.

"I didn't say that," Anders replied softly.

"What? What do you mean?" Neve looked confused. "You are a very confusing person, Warden Anders."

"I usually go with the heart," he nodded. "But at the same time I have to be sure I'm not allowing a viper make a nest inside my robe."

"A viper..." Neve shook her head. "I suppose that's deserved." She glanced at her leg prosthesis that was shaped as a viper. "What kind of assurance do you want?"

"Nothing you can say will matter..." Anders shook his head. "You understand that, I hope?" He looked straight at her. "You are an adversary to us, and even if I might be inclined to... well... never mind... but others will not accept it, and with a good reason. Lucanis will kill you and that will be the end of it."

"He's got a contract on my life, yes," Neve nodded. "The Antivan Crows do not relinquish their contracts. It is you I have to thank for the fact that I am still alive, isn't it?" She looked up.

"It is," he nodded.

"Then you can convince Lucanis to drop that contract!" Neve sounded hopeful.

"I do not meddle in the affairs of the Antivan Crows," Anders shook his head. "It's up to him."

"But he's your..!" Neve cut herself off.

"Lover?" Anders smirked.

"Special friend," Neve offered. "More than just a lover."

"And it still changes nothing."

"So... I am to die soon anyway," Neve sighed. "Then nothing matters."

"What are you asking me to do, exactly?" Anders sat down facing her. "You said you wanted my help, but how? You knew about the contract on your life, you knew everything... What is it you are expecting of me, Neve?"

"A miracle..." She whispered. "I think Varric seeded me already..." She rolled up her sleeve to show tiny red dots forming rows under her skin. "That's what it looks like, isn't it?" She looked up at Anders. "You know what it looks like... I've heard you've seen people who'd been seeded... It's true, isn't it? And this is it..?"

Anders ran his finger over the rash.

"Take off your clothes," he said, looking up.

"I thought you'd never ask," Neve laughed. "I wish it wasn't in order to check on my red lyrium infection though..."

"Neve..." Anders sighed. "Cut that out. You don't have to sleep with me to get my help."

"I wouldn't mind, myself," Neve kept up the joking tone.

"Neve!" Anders shook his head.

"What? You aren't exactly the timid type!"

"I am no push-over either."

"I beg to disagree!" Neve sounded furious for some reason.

"Huh?" Anders stopped following the trail of red dots with his eyes and looked Neve in the eye instead. "Why are we quarreling over this? Why do you care?"

"No, not answering that," Neve shook her head. "Here, look at the rash on my body. I've got it on the arms but no where else, as far as I can tell. How is my back looking?"

"You've got some on the back as well," Anders ran his finger over another row. "But none of it protrudes through the skin yet, it's just colour at this point."

"What am I going to do..?" Neve let herself fall on the cushions. "I can't feel anything... does it hurt much? When does it start to hurt?"

"Hmm... Here, come lie on the bed," Anders helped her up. "Let me examine your back properly... I can't sense anything... this is... odd..."

"What did you expect to sense?" A trace of hope appeared in Neve's voice.

"Red lyrium, what else?" Anders shrugged, still trying to sense it. "But this rash... why, it just feel like paint, a tattoo perhaps... I can see it but there's no magic in it at all..."

"Huh... That is odd," Neve agreed, sitting up. "What does this mean?"

"I wish I knew," Anders shrugged. "I cannot sense anything wrong with your health." He got up and walked back to the low table, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "You may get dressed."

"Thank you, Healer," Neve whispered, picking up her clothes.

"That's what you wanted from me - to look at the rash, right?" Anders sat back on the cushions. "Well, it is odd, but I don't think it's red lyrium seeding."

"That's... well... it isn't exactly a relief because now I have to wonder what it is and how I got it... and whether it's a sign of a seeding still to come," Neve sighed.

"Do you know why Varric is doing it?" Anders asked. "We quarreled, granted, but he avoids red lyrium above all else... can't see him getting mixed up in something like that unless something else was seriously wrong."

"He needs to have a person seeded to deliver to the Emissary," Neve shrugged. "But you mean why he's involved in all this... hmm... I have no clue."

"The Blight must be defeated, sure, but we cannot let that Emissary escape," Anders was musing. "It's no secret, of course... Yes, we already know of his plans... and you knew that we knew," he smirked. "Grey Wardens cannot agree to drive back one Blight at the cost of preparing another."

"So what is your plan?" Neve sat down by the table with a cup of coffee.

"We'll play it by ear," Anders shrugged. "We listen to the song... at some point, there will be a clue and we'll act."

"And that is the great strategy of the Order of the Grey - play it be ear?" Neve smirked. "Your reputation does not stand up to scrutiny."

"Who cares," Anders shrugged. "We certainly don't. Grey Wardens are loathed and detested as much as we are revered... We don't fit the mold."

"Can I come and stay with you? Away from Varric?" Neve suddenly asked.

"No."

"But..."

"Sorry, Neve, but you knew the answer before you asked the question," Anders gave her a long look.

"Yes, I did..." Neve sighed. "It's like you said - there is nothing I can say to change your mind..."

"Don't go back to the Keep," Anders shrugged. "Since you can teleport... Return me to the Anderfels but stay here yourself. Since your rash does not appear to be red lyrium seeding, just stay away from Varric." He looked at her and smiled - that was the best he could do.

"And forego the chance to get that proof that Tevinter Magisters did not corrupt the Golden City?" Neve shook her head. "If not for me, then for my homeland!"

"It's just for you, Neve," Anders said softly. "Let it go and live. Pursue it and sell your soul."

"That brief moment of glory..." Neve smiled at something that only she could see. "The Magisterium standing up in ovation... People in the street cheering..." She paused and closed her eyes. "I have no money to live the life associated with such glory," she said in an unexpectedly mundane tone. "Lucanis better kill me then, or the rest of it will be just shame." She smirked, noticing Anders' surprise. "Oh yes, Tevinter society puts many demands on its Magisters, in particular prominent ones. Not being gay is the least of them and Dorian has no clue what real pressure is like. I cannot become rich the same as he cannot stop being gay!" She exclaimed with anger. "All doors are closed to me simply because I am not rich! He has no idea..!"

"Is that why you resent him so much?" Anders asked quietly. "For his family fortune?"

"For the fact that he gets to play the persecuted pariah while his problem is so minuscule! He is gay! Big deal! Who cares?! He has no idea what real problems are like!!" Neve got angry, her face was red and sparks started gathering in her clenched fists.

"I don't think you know what it entails to be openly gay in Tevinter," Anders spoke calmly but coldly. "And you don't know Dorian at all."

"And don't want to! That pampered fool!"

"I see." Anders got up. "Thank you for the coffee, I'll find my own way out."

He turned around and left the room, to Neve's astonishment. It appeared that he preferred to spend several days journeying back to the Anderfels to staying any longer in the same room with her. Perhaps she misspoke. Could the rumours be true? Could there be something more between Anders and Dorian after all..? The investigator in Neve was awakened and she reached for her notebook packed with newspaper clippings on that very controversial act by Magister Pavus when he bought a blood mage as a slave... but what if... what if... it wasn't magic or sex... what if it was love..?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Mar 30 2025, 04:39 PM

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E411 - A path ahead

"Where is Anders?" Dorian asked Lucanis after another battle with darkspawn. "He was not among us."

"He's been disappearing to some place to think," Lucanis shrugged. "May be he missed the battle?"

"He would have sensed it," Dorian shook his head. "Unless of course he was dreaming... caught up in the Fade... hmm... I suppose it's possible. Alright, let's give it another day."

Anders had a habit of seeking out a solitary place to gather his thoughts and to travel the Fade in his sleep and it was nothing unusual for him to disappear for half a day or a day, but he always came back when darkspawn attacked. Lucanis wasn't worried because he was certain that if Anders had been in danger, Spite would have warned him, and although the incident in the snow was still vivid in his memory, this time things didn't feel the same. "I might be mad going by my feeling alone," Lucanis was thinking. "He might be in danger... but where would I even start to look?" He shook his head and decided to wait.

Another day had passed and still there was no sign of Anders, not even when darkspawn attacked again.

"This isn't right," Alistair caught Dorian and Lucanis after the battle. "Where is he?"

They decided to search the fortress in case Anders wanted to dream, fell asleep somewhere and his spirit got trapped in the Fade. His body would then slowly wither in Mundus and they had to find it while he was still alive. Dorian led them to the rooms in the dungeons that Anders had shown him earlier, but they were deserted.

"This door should be blocked," Lucanis was shaking his head. "This is a back door into the fortress, anyone could get in through here! We could have an assassin walk in our midst without realising it!"

"We'll block it once Anders is found," Alistair nodded. "In case he decides to use it to return..."

Their search yielded no results. Harding volunteered to go search the Keep where Varric and his followers were staying, claiming that she knew all the ways in and out of it as well as every secret tunnel and passage. It would take a while but if Anders was there, she'd find him. And while she was at it, Avernus attempted to find Anders in the Fade... but he was not in the Fade.

"So where is he?" Lucanis started to worry. "It's been three days."

"Two and a half," Alistair corrected him. "He'll turn up."

"Let's hope he won't turn up dead!" Lucanis retorted darkly. No one could promise him it would not be the case.

...

Anders didn't sleep. He wanted to get back to the Anderfels as quickly as possible. When he stepped out of the room where Neve had brought him, he saw that she was telling the truth - they were in Minrathous, and thus it would take him several days to travel back. He hired the fastest horse from the best coach house and set off. He changed horses frequently, stopping at each coach inn along the way, leaving the tired horse behind and hiring a fresh one. All he had to do was mention that he was a slave of House Pavus of Minrathous, and his requests were immediately attended to. "Dorian will find a pile of bills when he gets back," he smirked, realising that the bills would likely be inflated. "So be it."

Anders reached the Grey Wardens Head Quarters fortress in the Anderfels late on the fourth day.

"Who goes there?" A Warden at the stables challenged him, then gasped, recognising the rider. "Anders? Good grief! You look like you hadn't slept a week!"

"Not a week, just four days," Anders grinned. "Where's Lucanis?"

"Dunno, not following him around," the Warden shrugged. "But try the training grounds... that's where I'd be if I were him... shredding the dummies..."

Anders nodded and went straight there, avoiding the main hall or any other areas where he was likely to meet anyone. He wanted to see Lucanis first.

Lucanis was indeed shredding the dummies on the training grounds. Waiting was not his thing, it wasn't the same kind of waiting as when he was the one setting an ambush - he could wait in an ambush for as long as it took - but this waiting was powerless, he could do nothing, yet something had to be done... "I'll give it till dawn," he told himself. "If he doesn't show up by then... hmm... then something..." He didn't know what he'd do, but he felt he could not wait any longer.

"Luca?" Anders walked into the training courtyard. "That dummy is already dead..."

Lucanis spun around, half expecting to have imagined it. But no, Anders was walking towards him, a travel cloak still wrapped around him, looking tired but alive. Lucanis slung his sword into the scabbard. They hugged.

"You smell of the road," Lucanis finally said. "Horses, mud, sweat. What happened?"

"Neve," Anders grimaced. "Knocked me on the head and teleported."

"Oh?"

"Oh. Yes." He sighed. "Seeking out solitary spots to think does have disadvantages..."

"I won't say I told you so..."

"But you told me so," Anders laughed. "Perhaps I should have listened."

"What did she want?"

"She thought she'd been seeded with red lyrium and needed me to look at the rash on her skin," Anders said evenly. "But you know what - it was fake. Now I am confused."

"Neve asked you for help?" Lucanis laughed. "Without trying to kill you this time?"

"Without," Anders nodded.

"And why did you return on horseback rather than through that teleport?" Lucanis squinted.

"It was something she said... about Dorian," Anders smiled timidly. "I didn't like it."

"You threw a tantrum."

"No, I quietly walked out."

"Instead of having her teleport you back - that's a tantrum."

"Well... I guess... I just..."

"I know, it's in your nature," Lucanis smiled. "You do not compromise."

"Hmm..."

"Come. Let's show you around so that the rest of us could call off the search."

"The search..?"

"Did you think we'd just allow you to disappear?"

...

"A fake rash?" Alistair shook his head. "Are you sure? But why?"

"That's what I find so strange too," Anders nodded. "It's a colour deposit or a tattoo of sorts, made to look like the early stages of red lyrium seeding. But there is no magic in it..."

"Varric having second thoughts about it?" Dorian looked up. "He would be the last person to resort to red lyrium... I find it all extremely odd."

"As do I," Anders agreed. "After all he's gone through with it..." He shook his head.

"And yet someone died from red lyrium seeding," Emmrich reminded them. "As Taash reported."

"He seeded someone, that person died and now he could not do it again?" Alistair mused.

"May be..."

"This does not change our course of action, however," Avernus spoke up. "Neve will have to look after herself, Bellara also. Davrin... he should hear the call. We have to find the Emissary and keep tabs on him until the time comes to kill him. If we get distracted by Varric's motivations, we will miss the chance to act."

"True," Anders agreed. "But also... it is not just unusual for Varric to turn to red lyrium, there is no way he would have thought of it himself. He is clearly trying to fix something through this... someone put this idea into his head, offered a solution, something like that. That person will likely try to prevent us from finding the Emissary. Which is why I want to get to the bottom of it."

"This too makes sense," Alistair agreed. "Both of you are right," he looked at Avernus and Anders. "We shall split forces. Avernus - keep listening to the Blight, Anders - get to the bottom of Varric's mystery. If only Morrigan was here..."

"She is here," Morrigan walked in just then. "Didn't Kieran tell you I was on my way?" She looked at their surprised faces. "You won't find the Emissary here, he is of course in the Fade. But I can locate him. Only it is too early. Killing him now will not stop the Blight."

"Morrigan!" Alistair exclaimed. "For once, I am so glad to see you!"

"Oh, how nice," she grimaced. "I think I preferred you grumpy, actually..."

"Really?" Anders stared at them in disbelief. "You are two still going on about it? It's been twenty years!"

"Well, I think of it every time I see him," Morrigan pouted her lips. "But I suppose we can set it aside..."

"Just what exactly happened?" Dorian looked amused. "Oh come on, tell us! We weren't there, and we are so eager to join in the fun!"

"It wasn't just once, either..." Alistair squinted. "More like every morning when... ugh!!!"

"You were just jealous," Morrigan retorted.

"Me?! Jealous?! I am no Zevran!!" Alistair was indignant.

"Not jealous for sex, but for attention," Morrigan smiled. "Your Warden friend wasn't there to hold your hand when the Archdemon sang..."

"STOP IT!!!" Anders bellowed. "That's unfair, Morrigan. You have no idea what that is like. And Alistair... we need her! Again. Yes, again."

"Does that rivalry never die down?" Lucanis was watching the scene, fascinated. "Like you say, it's been twenty years..."

"For the first ten of which Morrigan was nowhere to be seen," Alistair pointed out. "Then she re-appeared during the Inquisition..."

"I had my reasons..." Morrigan glared at him.

"Kieran," Anders tried to calm them once again.

"Kieran who didn't start out as a kid but rather as a vessel for a twisted ancient soul!" Alistair barked.

"Not twisted! But pure! That was the point!!!" Morrigan went pale with anger.

"I think you're only making it worse," Dorian said quietly to Anders who was about to intervene again. "May be they just need to get it out."

"You tricked him into getting your pregnant!!!" Alistair raised his voice.

"I tricked no one!! I explained clearly what the ritual would produce!!! You're just jealous I didn't ask you instead!!"

"WHAT?!!!!" Alistair seemed to have flown into a rage. "Me?!!! Sleep with you?!!! Have you gone mad, witch?!!!"

Everyone took a step back because Morrigan had sparks around her fingers and Alistair had a peculiar glow, just like the glow of a templar sword used in a cleansing strike...

They kept glaring at each other for a good minute, if not more. Then, somehow, they both calmed down, with the sparks and the glow fading away.

"Wolf isn't here to stop us arguing," Alistair said with an unsteady voice. "I miss him. Yes, I miss my friend... so there." He shook his head and sat down.

"You two almost stopped being friends over me," Morrigan lowered her voice and also sat down.

"Almost."

"Which was another reason why I stayed away," she sighed. "I had to keep the spirit in Kieran pure, yes, but also I didn't want to keep coming between you... as strange as it may sound..."

"I still cannot accept some of the things you said..." Alistair shot her a glance.

"I was young and didn't see the need for diplomacy," Morrigan smiled. "And neither did you."

"No..." Alistair sighed. "Have we changed?"

"Changed? No," Morrigan said slowly. "We're still pretty much at the opposite sides of those same things that we could not agree on... but may be it doesn't matter."

"How did Wolf manage to keep the peace?" Emmrich asked with interest.

"He agreed with Morrigan on some things and with me on others, and mostly he just had his own opinions about everything... such as blood mages..." Alistair shot a glance at Anders who grinned. "He was right about that, as it turned out..."

"He was right about most things..." Dorian mused. "And mostly, he had a way with people... Being honest went a long way..."

"Stop talking about father as if he is dead!" Kieran entered the room.

"We miss him, Kieran," Anders said softly. "Everyone here who knew him, misses him. He's not dead, but he isn't with us either. And he won't ever come back..."

"But mum can talk to him in the Fade, can't you, mum?" Kieran looked at Morrigan. "I know you can."

"I can..." she nodded. "He is not dead. Zevran is with him. But I have to leave him alone, or else he won't be living his life... he'd be constantly looking back, not forward... that's no way to live. I cannot come with him, and so I have to let him go." She pulled Kieran close and hugged him. "Love isn't about yourself, it's about the other person..." She let go of Kieran and straightened up. "I came to tell you that I know who is behind the Emissary." She looked at all of them in turn. "Fiona."

"Fiona?" Alistair sat up, paling. "The..?"

"The leader of the mage rebellion, yes," Morrigan nodded. "I've been watching her for a while already because... well... because Wolf didn't trust her," she smiled. "She made waves in the Fade looking for such an Emissary. I don't know what she wants with him, but she is involved."

"She is a powerful mage..." Anders mused. "I'll go after her."

"Like - where?" Dorian shook his head. "Do you even know how to find her?"

"I'll blow up a Chantry," Anders grinned. "I think that other Anders in Kirkwall was her doing."

"Hmm... Which Chantry?" Dorian squinted.

"How about the one in Minrathous?" Anders was laughing now. "Tevinter had so far managed to stay out of the Blight or the mage-templar wars, that's unfair, don't you think?"

"There is no need to blow up any actual buildings, in fact," Dorian smirked. "All we need to do is make it look like it happened... If it's in the papers, it must be true, right?" He winked.

"Oh, Magister Pavus has a cunning plan!" Emmrich laughed. "But isn't it going to backfire to have your slave blow up the Chantry?"

"House Pavus can take it," Dorian grinned.

"But Anders is no longer your slave," Lucanis pointed out. "You set him free."

"But the papers don't know that," Dorian winked. "Most people wouldn't care either. He's formally no longer my slave, but for most people, once a slave - always a slave..."

"We'll have Neve investigate it," Anders nodded.

"WHAT?!!!" Everyone turned to him.

"She's still in Minrathous, I'm sure," Anders shrugged. "Something I said... or didn't say... well... I think she stayed on for a bit... digging... So we'll give her something else to dig."

"That's... cutting it fine," Alistair shook his head. "But that's what you always do. Alright! We'll keep the fortress standing here, the Blight isn't ready yet... you've got time. Who's with you?"

"Dorian," Anders looked at him and he nodded. "Lucanis?"

But Lucanis shook his head. "I should return to Treviso. Caterina..."

"You're worried," Anders nodded.

"She's an old lady..." Lucanis sighed. "Besides, I still have unfinished business with that underwater prison. I wonder who's running it now?"

"I think I can guess..." Dorian smirked. "We'll see you there, Lucanis."

"It's time to tango," Anders said decisively and everyone sighed a sigh of relief, now that the waiting was over and a path ahead started emerging from the mist.

[Lena Wolf]

Rain's Hand, 3E411 - To blow up a Chantry

"We're back and will be staying a while, so get the kitchen going," Dorian was instructing the butler of the Pavus Manor. "Anders will be sleeping with me, so move his things, please... Yes, he is still a slave... contrary to what I said before... We are not expecting anyone else for now. Questions?"

"Will you be taking your meals here or at the Magisterium, My Lord?" The butler bowed slightly.

"Here." Dorian looked around. "Yes. I think it's best, considering..." He shot a glance at Anders.

"Unless we are out of town," Anders reminded him.

"Hmm... May be..." He hesitated a little, then turned to the butler again. "If anyone comes looking for me, such as Neve Gallus - Magister Gallus now - then tell them to contact me at the Magisterium. We are not expecting anyone here, except may be Emmrich... err... Professor Volkarin. Or Lucanis Dellamorte. But no one else. Except may be..."

"It's too complicated, Dorian," Anders pointed out. "Why not have them leave a note and send them to wait for us at the Swan?"

"That is an excellent idea!" Dorian's face lit up. "So then, anyone except Professor Volkarin and Lucanis Dellamorte is to leave a calling card and wait for me at the Swan. You don't need to mention Anders at all."

"Very well, My Lord," the butler answered evenly, ignoring Dorian's initial hesitation. "What should I say if they inquire about Warden Anders specifically?"

"Tell them... err... tell them..." Dorian shot Anders a glance.

"Tell them that you do not meddle in the affairs of the Order of the Grey," Anders suggested. "Will that work?"

"Yes," Dorian nodded. "Something like that. Depending on who is asking... use your discretion," he smiled.

"Very well, Sir," the butler bowed. "There are some letters and bills waiting for your attention in the study... when you have a moment."

"Ugh... what else?"

"What should I tell the servants regarding Warden Anders?" The butler straightened up, looking Dorian in the eye, quite unusual for a butler, Anders thought to himself.

"Don't say anything at first, but when they start gossiping, mention that he's still a slave, and yes, we have a Grey Warden for a slave, and besides he is my lover. Yes, that's it. And if anyone mentions blood magic... shut them up." Dorian grimaced. "The same story as last time."

"Will you be visiting the Magisterium at all?" The butler was still standing tall, asking those questions.

"I shall do," Dorian nodded. "Yes, I will. For how long, I cannot say, but I shall need to keep a finger on the pulse there. Which means... we have to rely on you for... well..."

"I understand, Sir," the butler smiled and nodded with a little bow. "Welcome home, Sir, Warden," he bowed again both to Dorian and Anders and left.

"He isn't just a butler, is he?" Anders grinned.

"He's as much a butler as you are a slave," Dorian nodded. "But no, he's a butler. And then some."

"You seem nervous." Anders poured them coffee just brought in by a servant whom Dorian immediately dismissed.

"I am nervous," he admitted. "In my own house! It's come to this."

"It's not about Neve, so what is it?" Anders sat facing him.

"The Magisterium," Dorian looked up. "The moment I enter that building... it is filled with very skilled mages... they will know I've contracted the blight."

"They will sense the taint," Anders nodded.

"Many of them are healers, or know healing at least," Dorian continued. "They will... I don't know what they'll do exactly... it's not forbidden to walk around while being infected..."

"But you think they might try to bar you from the Magisterium using your blight as an excuse."

"And right now, I need to be there!" Dorian became agitated. "I need to see Neve there for myself, I need to hear what people are saying, both about her and about all the new evidence that she brought... Fiona will be using it, no doubt."

"You don't look sick yet."

"Thanks to you and Avernus..." Dorian sighed. "But they'll sense it nonetheless."

"You can argue it's in early stages and only slowly progressing... It could be years before you're consumed, they know that."

"That will make no difference... people are afraid of the blight above all else... whatever the stage... they are not using common sense at all..."

"What about your butler?"

"Oh, he already knows," Dorian smirked slightly. "He sensed it of course. He knows some healing magic... But he did not say anything because there was nothing to say."

"The news of your blight will spread through Minrathous like wildfire."

"We have to be quick before it does."

"Quick with what?"

"Something even more spectacular... such as you blowing up the Chantry," Dorian smiled.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" Anders finished his coffee and started on the dried figs and dates.

"It's like I said - you don't have to blow up any buildings," Dorian took a piece of paper and a pencil. "The archives at the back caved in some time ago, but it's at the back and hardly anyone knows about it. What we need is some fresh soil on that, some small fires, some dust and a lot of noise..."

"A few fireballs should do it."

"Then someone will call the City Guard who will find you in the middle of the rubble burning the Good Book..."

"They'll arrest me."

"They'll try but you'll resist."

"Blood magic?"

"No blood magic!" Dorian exclaimed with emphasis. "Or they'll have me buy you again! It's not a matter of funds, it's that... I won't be able to set you free again."

"I don't mind remaining your slave, you know that," Anders smiled. "House Pavus is the best in Minrathous, every slave will tell you that..."

"Don't start!"

"What I'm saying is that we may not be able to avoid it," Anders said soothingly. "Don't worry. If you have to buy me, then buy me. I have to be convincing resisting the City Guard."

"Try to escape."

"And go where?"

"Err... you have a point," Dorian conceded. "But you're supposed to have a plan!"

"Or not," Anders shrugged. "I'm a maniac, remember? I blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall and set off the mage-templar war... I had no plan then..."

"No, because it wasn't you."

"The other Anders had no plan either," Anders pointed out. "Or rather, Fiona had a plan: to start the mages rebellion."

"Whatever happened to that Anders?" Dorian suddenly realised that he didn't know it.

"He vanished," Anders shrugged. "Returned to the Grey Wardens and showed up in Ferelden, don't you know."

"Oh, I see." Dorian sighed. "It does fit, you have to admit. She thought of everything."

"Almost," Anders smiled. "The Order of the Grey did not take the fall for it."

"You think it was her goal?"

"May be... or may be not... I didn't think so at the time, but now..."

"What changed?"

"Something she told Wolf during the Inquisition... that she used to be a Grey Warden but her taint just 'fizzled out' and she was booted out of the Order." Anders refilled their coffee cups. "That's impossible. Unless she performed some complicated ritual to erase it..."

"Blood magic."

"More than just blood magic."

"Or else others would have used it to cure the blight."

"Exactly."

"So what then?" Dorian forgot about the coffee in his hand and nearly spilled it.

"I don't know exactly," Anders sounded uneasy. "I always thought she just lied... Wolf thought so, but wasn't entirely sure... it's too preposterous a lie, too blatant, too obvious... And now that Varric of all people is meddling in red lyrium... I wonder..."

"A ritual involving red lyrium and blood magic?"

"Red lyrium is lyrium carrying the Blight..."

"Hmm..."

"I am sorry... I don't know if we'll be able to use it to cure you," Anders said softly. "But I want to find out..."

"No... don't bother," Dorian looked up. "A blood magic ritual that also involves red lyrium... No. I'd rather drink from the Joining Cup."

"Yes... I understand," Anders smiled. "I could have tried to walk away too, but I chose not to."

"You think she is taking revenge on the Order of the Grey?"

"For what?" Anders shrugged. "Something must have happened... or may be didn't happen... may be Grey Wardens booted her out not because her taint was gone but because she went too far experimenting with the Blight... we can be finicky like that."

"The mage rebellion in Kirkwall had some very unusual forms of blood magic," Dorian said slowly. "Very unusual transformations and bindings. Unheard of..."

"Yeah, and the Knight-Commander Meredith was in possession of a red lyrium idol which corrupted her mind..."

"May be red lyrium played a much bigger role in all of that than we know..."

"May be it wasn't just the Knight-Commander Meredith who was in possession of such an idol..."

"It fits," Dorian nodded.

"And it changes nothing," Anders looked straight at him. "I am going to slit my wrists when the City Guard shows up. I shall knock them out and resume burning books. They will recover, more of them will turn up, eventually they'll arrest me. You will claim ownership. There is no other way, Dorian. We've got to do it right."

"Let's hope they won't kill you."

"They won't," Anders smiled. "I shall remind them that I am your slave."

"I have to buy you before we start."

"You have to."

Dorian sighed and shook his head. He did not like the idea, but there was no other way to guarantee that the City Guard would not simply kill Anders then and there. He rang for the butler and made arrangements. The butler wasn't surprised.

"This annuls me setting you free," Dorian said signing the papers. "Yes, we can do it in Tevinter... of course, I have to pay the fee again, but never mind." Then, turning to the butler, he added: "Make sure this is posted everywhere, the City Guard must be informed... down to the last one."

...

They did not talk much during dinner. They had to act quickly, before Dorian's blight infection became known. When they finished eating, Anders got up, ready to go out.

"I am going to show myself around town," he said. "I shall be drinking and getting into fights... fetch me from jail in the morning."

...

"Two nights drinking is enough, surely?" Dorian looked at Anders when he was ready to leave on the third night. "Everyone's heard of you already."

"Have they?" Anders smiled. "Take me out dancing then. Isn't it time for The Gay Vint?"

"That will expose my blight..." Dorian sighed. "Then tomorrow I go to the Magisterium. Very well. But you can't go dressed like this..." He looked Anders over, shaking his head at the shabby robe stained with blood and healing potions. "If you are to be my lover, you should look the part..."

...

"Dorian!" Several heads turned when Dorian and Anders entered The Gay Vint. "Back in Minrathous? We missed you!"

"Damien!" Dorian shook hands with the most flamboyant man in the bar. "Yes, we are back, as you can see."

"Indeed I can, indeed I can..." Damien took a step back, taking in Anders' appearance. "That's more like it... showing your colours, as it were," he smiled. "I don't remember you wearing silks and velvets last time..."

"Dorian insisted," Anders looked at him affectionately.

"Of course, of course! I knew it! I said so right from the start!" Damien was jubilant. "Music! A toast to Dorian! The man finally found someone he likes!"

...

"No one said anything about the blight," Anders pointed out when they were back at the manor.

"No, but they noticed, regardless," Dorian blocked the keyhole in their bedroom door and threw on the bolt. "No one needs to see just how you're keeping me alive. Or how much I hate these blood treatments..."

"You need them though," Anders sighed, exposing the blighted spot on Dorian's leg and taking out his dagger. "No one tried to avoid touching you, I noticed."

"Oh these people know you don't catch the blight through simple touch," he grimaced as Anders opened the wound and let his blood drop into it. "As long as we don't... ouch..! but I've got you now, and won't be... damn, that hurts... touching any of them in that way..."

"They would not want to run the risk, surely," Anders kept dripping his blood into the wound, trying to distract Dorian with conversation.

"Oh, most of them are not all that careful... you'd be surprised... are we done yet?!"

"Done." Anders rolled down the sleeve of his trusted healer's robe and started bandaging Dorian's leg. "Should be good for three days or so. Now, something for the pain..."

"No! Nothing for the pain!" Dorian protested. "I don't want you to take my pain again!"

"That's not what I had in mind," Anders smiled, casting a simple healing spell at Dorian. "Relax. Lucanis showed me another way to deal with pain... let's see if I can do for you what he did for me that night..."

[Lena Wolf]

Rain's Hand, 3E411 - Making waves in Minrathous

"Why, if it isn't Magister Pavus!" Several Magisters greeted Dorian when he entered the Magisterium. "We thought you abandoned us for good."

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Dorian replied radiantly. "I was away on business, that is all. I am back now."

"You were chasing after your escaped slave!" One of the Magisters stepped forward. "Such a rowdy and unruly fellow... why did you bother with him at all, Dorian? If it's a blood mage you wanted, there are plenty of capable elves to be had, with a much better understanding of hierarchy and authority..."

"It wasn't magic that he was after," another Magister interrupted. "Or not just magic, at least. He's sweet on blonds!"

"Blonds... that fellow isn't the only blondie around!" The first Magister retorted. "Why, there were several on the market the other day... younger and better looking, too!"

"And useless!" A third Magister joined in. "I've seen them. No brains at all in their blond skulls! Why do you think adults end up being sold as slaves? Because they are too stupid to lead lives of their own..!"

"Or because they get abducted," Dorian glared at him. "Don't say you didn't know."

"Awww, let's not get into those discussions again!" A fourth Magister spoke up. "It's been nice not to argue about slavery every hour of the day for a while! Slavery bad! Slaves are people! Tevinter laws are retarded! Really had enough of that for now!"

"And all of that is true," a fifth Magister said firmly. The crowd around Dorian was growing.

"You've made us all talk about slavery, see," the first Magister turned to Dorian. "Even when you aren't here. But it is all for naught. No one is actually thinking about changing those laws, because what would we do without our slaves? What would YOUR house do if suddenly all of your slaves were set free?"

"I would offer them jobs," Dorian shrugged. "And some of them would stay, I hope."

"Do those people even want slavery abolished?" One of the Magisters squinted. "As slaves, they are protected by the name of the House they belong to, they can drink and fight and commit crimes and the City Guard will not even whip them for that. As free people they would not survive a week on such behaviour."

"And what do you think happens to them after their master picks them up from jail?" Another Magister smirked. "They are in line for the next bleeding then."

"It does keep most slaves compliant," someone agreed. "As little as they like their condition, they still don't want to die..."

"But you didn't come here to talk about slavery again, did you, Dorian?" A shrewd looking Magister cut through the discussion. "You are here because of all those new claims by the illustrous Magister Gallus, our newest addition. Well, it is interesting, but ultimately unimportant."

"Unimportant? How so?" Dorian asked with interest. "I have yet to examine it for myself, but yes, I've heard of it, of course."

"Of course," the Magister smiled. "Well, the proof she brought shows that our ancestors did not destroy the elven Arlathan because it had already been destroyed by the elves themselves in their civil war. And that is all that it proves. It's a mighty important discovery for the elves - to know that they only have themselves to blame for their downfall. But for us, it is marginally unimportant. It reinforces our claim as victors, if anything."

"And yet the Assembly thought it important enough to make Neve Gallus a Magister," Dorian pointed out.

"Oh, it's a great little morsel proving our rights on this land... so yes, of course she was made a Magister. But it changes nothing."

"I don't think that Neve was trying to change anything," Dorian mused.

"No... you are quite right. Walk with me."

The Magister gestured Dorian to follow and they retreated into one of the alcoves and out of earshot of the rest.

"What are you saying, Rodrigues?" Dorian inquired quietly.

"She's been made a Magister but she isn't an important Magister," Rodrigues looked over his shoulder to make sure they were not overheard. "She cannot challenge what you're saying about slavery. How wrong it is."

"I don't think she cares about that," Dorian shook his head. "I think she's not done yet bringing proof."

"Oh yes? Then you know more than you let on," Rodrigues was interested. "Is that..." He paused uncomfortably. "Is that where you contracted the blight? In the Arlathan Forest?"

"Sensed it, have you?" Dorian sighed. "No, it was in one of the battles with darkspawn in the Anderfels. But it is all connected. And yes, I've been to the Arlathan Forest and met her there. There is more proof to be had, but it isn't easy to obtain."

"I should think not!" Rodrigues nodded. "What are you doing about the blight?"

"What is there to do about the blight?" Dorian smirked. "It will get me one day. But not yet."

"Slow progression, is it? You don't look sick."

"I have a good healer."

"That blond blood mage... yes..." Rodrigues nodded. "He's a Grey Warden... does that make a difference? Or did you just buy him because he can stave off your blight?"

"Well, it's true - I do like blonds..."

"Oh Dorian, whom are you trying to fool?" Rodrigues smirked. "He's scruffy... you can do better than that... No, it's his magic and his taint, and together they keep your blight from progressing somehow..." Rodrigues paused, musing. "Some here will try to have you banned because of it... you realise it, of course. But they won't succeed."

"Oh? You seem quite certain."

"We are no fools, my friend... The blight is not transmitted through casual touch, there is no danger to anyone in just talking to you..." Rodrigues looked over his shoulder again, then nudged Dorian deeper into the alcove. "There are some who want to make your blight into the greatest proof of the benefits of blood magic..." He paused, watching Dorian but Dorian remained expressionless. "Your healer will not cure you, that's not it... But there's been a rumour of a new blood magic ritual that can, in fact, cure the blight."

"Oh yes?" Dorian looked up with interest. "Are you sure? It's been tried before..."

"Without success, I know," Rodrigues sighed. "We've had the blight in the family... a nephew of mine, some years back... We tried everything, but of course he died in the end... well... you know how it is."

"I am sorry, I did not know."

"Don't worry. Many more people have had someone in their family infected over the years... Caravans get attacked, people get infected. It happens," Rodrigues sighed. "And the outcome is always the same - death."

"One way or the other..." Dorian nodded.

"But no, this new ritual is different," Rodrigues picked up the thread again. "I don't know the details, they keep it under wraps... Your blight is only in its early stages, which is ideal. Don't be surprised if someone approaches you with a promise of a cure... Don't be surprised but be weary..."

"You don't trust that ritual," Dorian squinted.

"I would not jump on it, myself," Rodrigues lowered his voice. "There are worse things than death..."

"Possession?" Dorian spoke in a near whisper.

"May be... it's like I said - I don't know the details," Rodrigues nodded. "Demonic binding, may be? I mean, how else..? Everything's been tried already... Blood magic, conventional healing, potions, rare herbal infusions... nothing works... And now suddenly they succeed?" He gave Dorian a long look. "I don't like it, Dorian... I don't like it at all."

"Who is promoting it?"

"Just a few junior Magisters... not Gallus, no," Rodrigues shook his head. "It's a different group altogether."

"The Venatori?" Dorian squinted. "Zara's pupils, perhaps?"

"There may be a link, but not an obvious one," Rodrigues sounded uncertain. "Apart from it being a blood magic ritual... which is too generic, of course... No... They keep the identity of their leader well hidden..."

"Oh come on, Rodrigues, there aren't that many mages of such magnitude around," Dorian smirked. "Mages that could pull it off. There's just a handful in the entirety of Thedas, in fact."

"True," Rodrigues nodded. "But none of them appeared in Minrathous yet. So we don't know."

"I see... Well, thank you for the warning," Dorian smiled. "I know we've had our disagreements..."

"But this is bigger than that," Rodrigues brushed it aside. "I may not agree with everything you say, but I don't want you dead... or worse..."

"If you hear anything..."

"I'll tell you," Rodrigues nodded. "You made a splash at The Gay Vint last night. Your blondie does polish up well," he grinned. "Only we all know what he is."

"So the lover card didn't convince anyone then?" Dorian sighed.

"No... yes... it depends," Rodrigues smiled. "Is it true? It looked genuine..."

"It's..."

"Private, I know. Whether it's true or not. I get it." Rodrigues paused, watching Dorian's face. "It's another reminder to all other Houses that Dorian Pavus is not looking to get married any time soon. Don't waste your breath," Rodrigues laughed. "So, who will inherit your family fortune when the blight finally gets you?"

"I am not dead yet," Dorian frowned.

"Never mind. Just teasing." Rodrigues smiled and patted Dorian on the arm. "See you around, Dorian. Come to The Gay Vint, bring your blondie. If there's news, you'll hear it there."

...

"Magister Pavus is not in residence," the butler at the Pavus Manor barred the way to the Captain of the City Guard. "You may leave your grievance with me."

"It's more than just a grievance..." The Captain shuffled her feet. "We've arrested his slave... a Grey Warden... Anders... He does belong to your House, that's right, isn't it?"

"He is a slave of House Pavus, yes," the butler confirmed coolly.

"Well... only this time it wasn't just a brawl..." The Captain looked the butler in the eye. "He blew up the Chantry."

"Oh?" The butler frowned. "Yes, I suppose I did hear some explosions... I shall relate this matter to Magister Pavus. He will want to collect his slave alive, with his skin still on. Do I make myself clear?" The butler glared at the Captain. "Other than that..." he shrugged.

"No one will touch him anyway," the Captain wasn't done yet. "He's a blood mage... he's tainted... everyone is afraid to catch the blight in case he casts a blood magic spell on them... It's been a nightmare to get him detained..."

"The blight is not transmitted in that fashion, and Grey Warden taint is not the blight," the butler said coldly. "Your claim for damages will not stand."

"But Magister Pavus contracted it," the Captain dared to look up. "We shall argue he contracted it through sex because everyone can see they are... well... isn't it why he bought him? The first time around as well as the second?"

"What are you claiming?" The butler turned to ice.

"Introducing the blight into the City Guard."

"It won't stand."

"But we can try."

"How much?"

"Well... House Pavus is wealthy," the Captain smiled. "And Magister Pavus is yet to secure succession through matrimony..."

"Out!" The butler gently pushed the Captain of the Guard off the premises and shut the door in her face.

"Ha! The look on his face!" She laughed. "It was worth it. And I win the bet."

...

"And here comes the man of the hour!" Cheers and whistles ran through the crowd at The Gay Vint when Dorian and Anders appeared there the following evening. "Blow up the Chantry! What fun!"

"Glad you enjoyed the show!" Dorian looked around.

"Very clever pretending to blow up the part that'd caved in already," Damien joined them. "Very clever indeed! Some fresh soil, a few small fires, lots of noise... Burning The Book was a nice touch, I thought!" He beamed at them.

"No one was fooled then," Anders looked at Dorian.

"Oh, I didn't expect them to be fooled," Dorian smiled. "But it is still all over the papers, which was the point. Anders once again blew up a Chantry."

"You are playing with real fire there, old boy," Damien leaned over to Dorian, speaking in a low voice. "If you are baiting whom I think you're baiting... that's one dangerous game."

"I have my reasons."

"Yes, I can see it," Damien nodded. "Oh, it doesn't show yet, of course... does it hurt much? At such an early stage, I mean?"

"It does, Damien, it does..." Dorian looked at him sideways. "It's a slow progression but..."

"The result is always the same," Damien sighed. "I just hope your Warden is as good a healer as his reputation would have us believe. But even he cannot cure it..."

"Which is why we are baiting whom we are baiting," Dorian said through his teeth.

"You think she can help you?" Damien's eyes lit up. "I've heard of the new ritual, of course... but does it work? Or is it just an empty promise with a whole different purpose? Your Warden should remember what happened in Orlais..."

"I was there myself, I know," Dorian nodded. "Demonic binding... But Warden-Commander Clarel was being manipulated through her taint exactly because she'd been a Grey Warden for a long time already... the taint was strong in her, it was established... and she was a Grey Warden while I am just... blighted..." he sighed. "I cannot be manipulated in the same way."

"May be... I don't know... I'm just saying - be careful." Damien looked over his shoulder and moved closer. "Fiona is not to be trifled with."

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E411 - Ten years in the making

The weeks that followed were quiet. Dorian kept going to the Magisterium and soon everyone got used to his presence and the usual discussions of slavery and other political issues resumed. No one mentioned Dorian's blight, no one made any attempts to curtail his freedoms or oust him from the Assembly because of it. Neve was present regularly but briefly, always dressed in the same attire, and Dorian reflected that she did not have the means to purchase more than one suitable outfit. He almost pitied her... almost. Anders kept a low profile, strolling through town sometimes, but mostly spending his days at the manor, engrossed in the many books in Dorian's library. His appearances at Dorian's side at The Gay Vint were enough to demonstrate that he was still around, that nothing changed... The newspapers were still running stories on the explosion at the Chantry, speculating about its meaning, about the identity of the perpetrator... They quickly linked up Anders to the events in Kirkwall and were now milking that old story as well as the new one. In a word, things were going according to plan.

"Not going to the Magisterium today?" Anders looked surprised when Dorian appeared at breakfast dressed casually.

"No... I've had enough of it for now..." Dorian rolled his eyes. "Always the same talk..."

"Taking a day off then," Anders grinned. "Any plans?"

"Nothing in particular..." Dorian shot a glance at the butler and he quietly left the room. "Why?"

"Spend the day with me? Please? I miss you."

"But I am here... never left..." Dorian squinted. "Every night..."

"Nights..."

"...are not the same as days, I know," Dorian nodded. "I..."

"I love you," Anders interrupted him. "Have done for ten years, without knowing it myself... I make a mess of these things... I made a mess with Lucanis too..."

"I can't get enough of you during the night," Dorian moved his chair closer and touched Anders' face. "In all this time I never allowed myself to think of you in that way... I was foolish, I put up a wall... But..."

"You need exclusivity, I know," Anders nodded. "To go beyond the nights."

"Yes."

"Which is why..." Anders sighed. "And we cannot go back to the way we were when we were just friends. I cannot say it was better... but I miss the days."

"You'll have to make a choice when you are ready," Dorian spoke softly. "Without making a mess."

"I never thought of choosing... I never thought I had anything to choose... I never..." Anders shook his head. "Will you have me?"

Dorian smiled but did not immediately reply.

"Lucanis did not accept my offer of exclusivity..." Anders continued. "He said he could not promise the same and anyhow he thought you'd want me back... I was so surprised... We'd never been... you and I... what did he mean - you'd want me back..?" He looked at Dorian in confusion.

"Lucanis has a better feel for these things than most," Dorian nodded. "He told me the same about you... made me realise what a fool I'd been... shutting you out... even after you... that night, when you wanted to change your mind... I was the one man you actually liked to see naked, you said..." He smirked. "And again, even after we... I still understood nothing." He paused, watching Anders' face. "Understood nothing of what I felt for you..."

"Then I know what to do," Anders got up. "I am going to Treviso. I'll be back as soon as I can... I hope I won't make too much of a mess..." He sighed.

...

The portal between Minrathous and Treviso was still in operation. Anders emerged on the other side without incident and went to the Crows office looking for Lucanis. He wasn't there but a message would be sent.

"Go to his apartment," Viago told him. "You'll want privacy, no doubt... Oh, nothing unexpected... but he'll want to tell you that himself."

Anders did not have to wait long.

"Any news?" He looked at Lucanis and saw worry in his face.

"Yes, no, nothing unexpected and nothing from Fiona, yet," Lucanis said uneasily, focusing on making coffee. "She has not been here and no one seems to be running the underwater prison," he specified, wishing to get it out of the way. "So I didn't send word because there was nothing to say."

He poured out the coffee and handed Anders a cup, then continued.

"Illario is still scrubbing the floor of that pool... Caterina is not letting him out of sight. She is still in charge, too... but she is an old lady," he sighed, looking up. "I shall have to return here once we are done with the Blight... I shall have to take over running the Crows."

"She could not find a cousin worthy of the job," Anders nodded. "I always thought it was a tall order."

"My parents, Illario's parents, a few others... all died in that attempted coup, yet Caterina persevered. To give it away now... that's too much to ask of her, I feel..."

"When..?"

"Oh, there is no immediate rush," Lucanis smiled. "I stand with you against the Blight as promised. I stay with you for as long as you want as well... but you will have to come to Treviso."

"And I cannot promise that..." Anders nodded. "It's not that I would not have wanted..." He started saying but Lucanis interrupted.

"Go with Dorian," he said. "You've always wanted that."

"How do you..?" Anders felt his breath cut.

"I only have to look at the two of you... Old friends, yes... But there's more... He does not have to be your Mathilda."

"And you..?"

"I stay here. My Mathilda is always with me," he pointed at his head. "I talked to her, by the way - to the real Mathilda. She is not the same woman."

"I am sorry..." Anders felt terrible.

"Don't be," Lucanis smiled. "We've had such a wild and wonderful time... I'll never forget that. And of course, we remain friends." He got up and walked over to a small ornate cabinet, then retrieved something from it. "Take this - a talking gem. You know how this works? You talk to it and I'll answer - I've got the other one, it's a pair. Antivan Crows are never too far away."

"But this isn't goodbye, I'll see you again, won't I?"

"Of course, I'll be there for the Grande Finale, of course! And before, too, and after - whenever you need me," Lucanis smiled. "Whenever you want to talk or... but no, not that. Like Dorian, you value exclusivity."

"Yes..."

"Yes."

They remained silent for a while, continuing a wordless conversation. Then Anders got up.

"I should be going," he said, carefully putting away the talking gem. "Fiona might make a move any time... Dorian says things started stirring at the Magisterium."

"Let me know as soon as it starts," Lucanis sounded serious, getting up too. "She is not to be trifled with."

He took a step towards Anders and embraced him.

"Do I get another kiss? The last one, I promise..."

...

Anders returned to Minrathous in the dead of night. He walked through the eerily empty streets unchallenged. The night doorman at the Pavus Manor silently let him in. Dorian would be asleep, he thought, best not make any noise. He entered the master bedroom and quietly closed the door. Dorian was in bed, apparently sleeping. Anders took off his outer garments and boots and tiptoed around the room removing his weapons belt, his potions belt, and transferring Lucanis' talking gem from a side pouch into his Warden's Oath locket that he never took off...

"He gave you a talking gem," he heard Dorian's voice. "So you didn't make a mess."

"I... yes, I guess I managed," Anders spun around, seeing Dorian sit up. "I thought you were asleep!"

"I was... nah... whom am I kidding? No, I wasn't," Dorian smirked. "I gave a talking gem to someone once... we used it quite a lot, too... it's a great little item."

"Used it? But not anymore..?" Anders asked without thinking and regretted it - it was none of his business. "Oh... never mind... I don't mean to pry..."

"It's alright, I'll tell you: I gave it to Wolf."

"Ah."

"It doesn't work across the ocean," Dorian sighed.

"No... I guess not..."

"I've got something for you as well," Dorian got up, a little box in his hand. "If you want it."

He opened the box - a golden earring inlaid with rubies was in it.

"It's the same design as your ring," Anders touched Dorian's hand holding the box, a ring inlaid with rubies on his finger.

"I had them made while you were gone," Dorian said softly. "I thought you'd prefer an earring... I remember you saying you had one before but it was lost..."

"Well, darkspawn are not getting this one!" Anders exclaimed with a laugh, putting the earring through his earlobe. "There..."

...

"This will be the talk of the town to rival blowing up of the Chantry!" Damien applauded seeing Dorian and Anders enter The Gay Vint. "Finally!"

"How did he..? It's just a ring and an earring!" Anders was gobsmacked.

"No, he doesn't have the eyes of a hawk, and neither is he psychic," Dorian smirked. "The jeweler told him, no doubt." Then, turning to Damien, he laughed: "Finally what, old boy? People like us do not exist in Tevinter..."

"Yes, and this isn't The Gay Vint," Damien laughed. "I was right, I was right from the start!"

"We'll hear no end of that now!" Anders rolled his eyes.

"All you had to do was admit right from the start that it wasn't just..." But Damien's words were drowned in laughs and cheers from the crowd around them as the rubies sparkled in candle light of the most flamboyant bar in town.

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E411 - Darkspawn

"We have to go," Anders woke up in the middle of the night. "They are moving fast!" He jumped out of bed.

"Who..? Huh?" Dorian woke up too. "What..? Oh..."

"Darkspawn, yes," Anders' face was set in resolve as he was quickly getting dressed. "Prepare for battle." Then, touching his Warden's Oath locket, he hesitated. "Hmm... I should have tested this... let's hope it works. Lucanis? Can you hear me?"

"Huh..?" A sleepy voice answered. "Anders? What...? Oh... another nightmare?"

"More than just a nightmare," Anders was fully awake and spoke with urgency. "There's a massive horde of darkspawn underneath Minrathous. Massive. They will overwhelm the city. We're going there... there aren't many Grey Wardens here, may be even none. Can you come?"

"Of course!" The voice coming from the talking gem was no longer sleepy. "I'll bring a few friends, too... Where is it?"

"Don't know yet," Anders sighed. "Probably in the catacombs... Do you remember, it's where we..."

"Fought that Arcane Horror, or whatever you call those demons," Lucanis sounded like himself now. "Yes. We'll go there. Call if it changes."

"Spite will know, too... Spite will sense them if... if he still looks like me..." Anders said with doubt.

"He does. Don't get killed before we arrive."

...

When Anders and Dorian reached the city catacombs, Anders no longer had any doubts that the darkspawn horde would emerge from there. Even Dorian started sensing the darkspawn. The entrance was unguarded and deserted, as usual.

"No Grey Wardens..." Anders looked around. "If there were any of them still in Minrathous, they'd be here... but no..."

"Wasn't everyone recalled to the Head Quarters?" Dorian reminded him.

"Yes... no... someone usually stays behind..."

"Wardens..?" A young woman's voice called from the street. "You are Grey Wardens, aren't you?" She ran up to them, panting.

"I am," Anders turned around. "And you... is anyone else coming?"

"There's no one here... there are no Grey Wardens in Tevinter... didn't you know?" She looked uncertain. "Oh, you are... I've heard of you..."

"The horde is below us," Anders cut short the introductions. "Can you sense them? You look... hmm..."

"I haven't gone through the Joining yet..." The young woman looked down. "I only ran after you because I saw you... I cannot sense anything..."

"Then this will be terrifying," Anders gently squeezed her arm. "Stay with us, don't run ahead. Don't engage large darkspawn, but instead cut down anything that comes close. Keep us safe... focus on that. Dorian and I will do the rest."

"Dorian... Magister Dorian Pavus?" The woman gasped. "So I was right..."

"Yes, we are who you think we are, but there's no time for it now," Anders tried to calm her. "We'll find a choke point and make our stand there. Try not to die."

They stepped into the darkness of the catacombs, trying to predict where the darkspawn horde would come to the surface. Oil torches were visible here and there, but they did not illuminate very much.

"There's a fork in the tunnel here somewhere, if memory serves..." Anders was shining his lamp into the tunnel. "But which way from there..?"

"Left," Dorian seemed sure. "There's a lift there, going into the depths. It's much faster than going around..."

"Left then."

They took the lift down, and faced another fork in the tunnels.

"Lucanis will not be able to find us if we go too far," Dorian was looking into the tunnels. "This way goes to that chamber where..."

"It had tunnels coming off it," Anders nodded.

"There are people there!" The woman exclaimed.

"People?"

"People like me..." she said in a fallen voice. "Vagabonds..."

"They'll be slaughtered," Anders sounded grim. "We have to warn them..."

"Well, why don't you go and warn them," Dorian turned to the young woman. "Tell them to leave with all haste. And in the meantime Anders and I will go in the opposite direction."

"Err..." She started to object, then changed her mind. "I will..." And she ran off.

"This way," Dorian started walking into the tunnel. "Even I can sense that it's this way."

The tunnel twisted and turned but had no further forks until they came to a small chamber.

"This wall looks weak," Anders noted. "Should we break it and take the fight to them or should we..."

"We wait here," a familiar voice sounded behind them. "I brought some friends."

Lucanis and three other Crows stood in the tunnel, and Anders noticed blood on their armour.

"Resistance? But where?" He asked in surprise.

"We went to the large chamber first, those bandits were waiting for us," Lucanis smirked. "But they had never met the Antivan Crows."

"Oh... so that young woman..."

"Was never going to fight darkspawn with you," Lucanis said darkly. "She just wanted your jewelry."

"Ugh..." Anders turned away.

"I hear something," Dorian interrupted them. "Here they come!"

A low rumble was heard from behind the weak wall, as if other weak walls were crumbling in the depth. Lucanis kicked their wall and it crumbled too, and the Crows disappeared into the darkness with Anders and Dorian following. "Storm," they nodded to each other, starting an incantation.

...

"I shall never get used to fighting darkspawn..!" Viago grimaced turning over a corpse on the ground. "Just look at them! Ugh!"

"Don't look at them," Teia covered her nose. "That stench!"

"Don't let your guard down," Anders said, showering them all in the shimmering mist of healing magic. "This was just the first wave."

"How many waves..?"

"Don't know... more than one... Focus!"

They heard that same low rumble again, more darkspawn was rising from the depths.

...

"How do we know when it's over?" Teia was breathing heavily, clutching a gash in her side. "They are getting tougher..."

"They are," Anders nodded, making her sit down on the ground. "Let me treat this..." He did not speak for a while, focusing on treating the wound. "I'll know... there... almost done... Cover us, Dorian!" He suddenly yelled, bending over Teia, the bandage only half finished. Debris from an explosion fell all around them as another wave of darkspawn started a fresh assault. "You are no use to anyone dead," Anders pushed Teia back to the ground. "Hold still."

...

"How many waves..?" Lucanis was looking at the heaps of darkspawn corpses around them.

"Don't know, didn't count," Anders was busy treating each of them in turn. "But the horde withdrew for now."

"Withdrew? You mean - there's more darkspawn?!" Viago was indignant.

"There's always more darkspawn, Viago," Anders smirked. "All we can do is make them pull back... we can never kill them all."

"Are you sure they won't return the moment we leave here?" Teia was peering into the tunnel, listening for more rumbles but all was quiet in the depths.

"As sure as I can be..." Anders closed his eyes, focusing on the song on the back of his mind. "Yeah, I think it's over for today."

"Then we go home," Dorian put away his staff. "This attack was directed by someone... and I think I know who it was."

"Fiona," Lucanis scowled.

"Very likely. Will you stay in Minrathous for a while?" Dorian looked at each of the Crows in turn. "We serve the best pastel de nata in town..."

...

When Dorian appeared at the Magisterium the next day, he found most Magisters gathered in the Assembly chamber listening to someone on the podium.

"...as you've seen from yesterday's attack!" A young Magister whom he did not know, was saying with pathos. "The Blight has come to Minrathous!"

"But why?" Someone asked. "Why now? Why here? Besides, it wasn't much of a threat if the City Guard managed to push them back..."

"Why? Because the Blight is on the rise!" The young Magister restarted his speech. "As I was saying..!"

"It wasn't the City Guard that pushed them back," someone spoke and the Assembly went quiet. "It was Dorian Pavus and his Warden friend, and may be a few others... nothing to do with the City Guard."

"But the City Guard..." someone objected in a small voice.

"The City Guard are finally watching the catacombs, yes," a Magister in an exquisite robe stepped forward. "For once, the papers tell the truth. Minrathous was not overrun this time only because there was a Grey Warden in this city... a Grey Warden who wasn't too drunk to heed his Warden sense."

An awkward silence lasted for a good minute, no one daring to speak. Dorian stood at the back of an alcove, watching his fellow Magisters shiver. The Blight came to Tevinter and no one knew what to do.

"The bulk of the Blight is still in the Anderfels," the young Magister on the podium suddenly started speaking again. "Minrathous only got a stray horde," he tried to sound confident. "Chances are, we won't have another attack... or not a large attack anyway... but small incursions will now become the norm!" He suddenly raised his voice. "This has been the case in other cities of Thedas! You only have to look around... And so, with more darkspawn attacks, the prevalence of the blight infection in the population will increase! Which is why the ritual we are proposing is becoming more and more important!"

The ritual. This was what Dorian was waiting to hear. He froze, focusing all his attention on the young Magister in the centre of the Assembly.

"Your ritual is based in blood magic... and it requires red lyrium," someone objected. "Both things are forbidden because of the dangers they bring..."

"And yet each and every one of you used blood magic countless times in your lives," the young Magister glared at the Assembly. "I dare you to deny it. You know where the danger lies - and it isn't in blood magic as such." No one spoke and the Magister continued. "It has to be done with care, for certain. Which is why we offer to guide you every step of the way. To guide you in order to avoid mishaps, mistakes and tragedies... You can trust us. We know what we are doing."

"Warden-Commander Clarel trusted a Tevinter Magister to give her an army of demons that would end the Blight once and for all," Dorian stepped forward. "We all know how that went. Warden-Commander was being manipulated, she recovered and corrected her error, at a great cost to the Order of the Grey... But that isn't my point." He looked around, but no one spoke. "My point is about trust. She trusted in something that was too good to be true. We must not make the same mistake."

"He's right, you know..." Another Magister stepped forward, addressing the speaker on the podium. "Why should we trust you? The Blight has been around for a thousand years, everything imaginable has already been tried, yet no cure was ever found. You claim your ritual can safely cure the Blight... it does sound too good to be true."

"I understand your hesitation," the speaker replied calmly. "We understand it. We are not forcing anyone into anything, mind... but when the Blight infects someone you love, we shall be there to help, if you want us. Perhaps you'll see things differently then." He looked at the members of the Assembly, stopping at Dorian. "Magister Pavus... remember - we wish to help." He smiled and stepped off the podium.

...

"Did he think I would just run after him?!" Dorian was telling about it at dinner. "A ritual involving red lyrium... no, thanks. I'd rather..." He shot a glance at Anders and shook his head.

"Not everyone wishes to join Grey Wardens," Lucanis said softly. "They are counting on that, no doubt. But what now? Are we to expect more darkspawn attacks here or is Fiona going to move on the Anderfels?"

"I am more interested in the true nature of that ritual," Anders mused. "It sounds very much like they are trying to build a following... an army perhaps... or a pool of slaves..."

"Depending on what the ritual does, yes," Dorian nodded. "But how can we find out? Fiona is very careful."

"But she isn't here," Anders pointed out. "So far, it's just her pupils... and are they as careful as she? And what about Neve? Perhaps now she could be useful..."

They spent some time discussing the matter. Various theories and suggestions were brought forward but they kept going in circles around that one central question about the nature of the ritual. Without knowing that, they could not devise a course of action, yet a course of action was needed in order to figure it out. Finally they gave up as the hour was late and everyone was still tired after the big battle the day before. They said good night and retired to their respective bedrooms.

...

Teia woke up because she heard someone breathing. Humans were always forgetting that elves possessed not only superior life spans, but also superior senses. Teia looked young but was older than most Crows, and her life of an assassin taught her to never drop her guard.

She woke up and tightened her grip on the dagger under her pillow but did not move. She opened her eyes just enough to see through the eyelashes. A shadow was hovering by the door to her bedroom, and the door stood ajar. Teia held her breath and listened but could not hear anyone else - the intruder appeared to be alone. She tensed, like a coiled spring.

Yet in the minutes that followed, there was no attack. The intruder silently walked out of her bedroom and tried the next door. It looked like he was searching for the right person, or may be deciding which of them was to become his victim. Teia saw a man's silhouette fading into the darkness - he was crouching by the door, working on the lock... She leapt, slitting his throat.

A lightning bolt shot through the air, knocking Teia to the ground, and she fell, making a lot of noise, pulling the dead intruder down with her. In a blink of an eye the other Crows were on their feet and a noisy battle ensued, with much too many fighters in one narrow corridor.

"Call Anders - now!" Lucanis shook Teia awake and pushed her towards the exit, past the fighting.

The master bedroom was in the opposite wing of the manor, but the noise carried through the sleeping building, and Dorian's bodyguards were already on full alert.

"I don't understand it," Teia was shaking her head as she, Anders and Dorian were running back to the other wing, with the bodyguards following. "There was no one there! But there are several of them fighting now!"

"Who are they? Mages? Darkspawn? Demons?" Dorian finally gave up trying to get his arm into the sleeve of his chamber gown and tossed it aside, it was not the time to stand on ceremony.

"Err..." Teia didn't know.

"Demons!!!" A Rage Demon blocked their way.

"Leave it to me!" Dorian shot an ice spear at it. "Get the mage!!!"

The corridors of the guest wing of the Pavus Manor were ablaze with magical explosions. Fissures in the Veil were visible even to the naked eye, with demons lined up on the other side. This attack was well prepared. Anders left the demons to the Crows - he had to find the mage who was holding the Veil tear open, but it was nearly impossible to even see who was who in the chaos of the battle. He stopped and closed his eyes. "Any mage who is capable of making a tear in the Veil, will be emanating magic," Anders told himself recalling the way things looked in the Fade. "Emmrich would be able to see him... see the glow... I am no Emmrich... but may be..." He focused his senses... a streak of purple flashed past... he grabbed it... it jerked and pulled and the next moment all noises ceased and Anders stood in the Fade. "Oh!" He heard a surprised gasp. Here was the mage holding the tear in the Veil open.

They fought. The mage was skilled, mirroring whatever spell Anders threw at him, while also maintaining the tear, pushing more and more demons into Mundus. But may be he grew tired or may be he thought it was enough, he dropped his staff and the tear collapsed. Anders knocked him down, holding his dagger at the man's throat.

"Will you kill an unarmed man?" The mage smirked.

"Yes, I will." Anders put his knee on the man's chest. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, you'll see," the mage smiled. "But if you kill me now, you'll be trapped in the Fade forever more. The tear in the Veil is closed and only I can reopen it again. This isn't a dream, we are physically in the Fade... you cannot wake up from this."

"What do you want?"

"To live," the mage smiled again. Yet something about him rang false to Anders.

"I do not believe you," he said, slitting the man's throat. Dark, nearly black blood spilled out of the wound. "Darkspawn," Anders got up. "You were darkspawn. Did I sense you?" Anders wondered aloud, looking over the corpse. "Yes, I did... I am no Emmrich, I cannot sense tears in the Veil... but I can sense darkspawn, talking or not... Well, that's one mystery cleared up." He straightened up, looking around. "Now, how do I get out of the Fade?"

[Renee]

Ah, a house for purchase in Dune. Wonder how many houses she's got at this point?

The fighting in the Posh District IS weird. Sounds like a case of friendly fire (at some legitimate enemy, perhaps) becoming not so friendly. Then taken seriously.

"The pattern is of Skyrim, yes" - Hauk nodded. "But not all Nords have tattoos - markings, as you say" - he turned to the Khajiit. "Mine are earned."

"Indeed, Khajiit knows - one must earn his stripes" he nodded with respect, paying close attention to the pattern. He did not say anything more, just looked closely, clearly committing the pattern to memory. Hauk was going to be known in Elsweyr.

That's my favorite line in the chapter I'm reading tonight.

SKOOMA PIPE! "Lena turned to her skooma pipe...."


http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341395

[Lena Wolf]

Ah, a house for purchase in Dune. Wonder how many houses she's got at this point?

Four houses: the vanilla houses in Bravil and on the Imperial City Waterfront, the Abandoned House in Cheydinhal turned into a proper home, and a house in Crucible in the Shivering Isles left to her in the will of someone she helped.

The fighting in the Posh District IS weird. Sounds like a case of friendly fire (at some legitimate enemy, perhaps) becoming not so friendly. Then taken seriously.

No, it was started deliberately. Those are the followers of the two quarreling Princes. The Princes struggle for the throne and their respective followers carry on the fight.

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E411 - Thyself is the strictest judge

With the Veil tear closed, the fighting in the Pavus Manor guest wing was eventually done.

"Ugh, this was just like during the Inquisition!" Dorian took a deep breath, putting away his staff. "Remember, Anders? Demons pouring out of tears in the Veil..? Anders?" But Anders was no where to be seen. They searched the wing, but he was not there.

"There is also no corpse of a mage," Lucanis pointed out. "The one that held the Veil tear open. He must have been in the Fade..."

"And Anders went after him," Dorian nodded. "Then the tear collapsed..."

"Spite, we need you," Lucanis said as if to himself, and a spirit copy of Anders appeared next to him.

"Let's go," Spite hissed, opening a portal around Lucanis, and a moment later Lucanis was gone.

"That... was unnerving," Viago said with a shudder. "Vanished, just like that!"

"Spite opened a portal... that's one of the perks of having a spirit merged with your soul," Dorian shot a glance at Viago. "I did not know he took the form of Anders though..."

...

A few hours later Lucanis and Anders re-appeared at the manor, not having suffered any particularly ill effects. Some rescues were less spectacular than others, it seemed. They found Dorian in the parlour, reading the same page over and over again.

"Finally..!" He jumped up, seeing them come in. "I did not realise Spite had Anders' form," he said to Lucanis. "That's..." he shook his head. "You do not have to choose between us," he turned to Anders. "I was wrong to ask for it."

"No, you were right," Anders looked uneasy. "It's not like that... not black and white..."

"I am happy for the two of you," Lucanis smiled looking at them. "That earring suits you, Anders." He took a step closer and embraced him. "Nunca te perderé," he whispered in his ear. "Y nunca me perderás. I am never too far away."

"Like when I get stuck in the Fade again," Anders grinned. "Why do I always make such a mess of things? Always need rescuing..."

"It's in your nature..." Lucanis stroked his face, then pulled him close and kissed him. "Forgive me," he said when the kiss was done. "I lied about that being the last one..."

...

"Dorian, I..." Anders started saying, blushing violently, when he and Dorian returned to the privacy of their suite.

"No, no need... No need to say anything..." Dorian smiled, embracing him. "I still love you."

"No, there is a need," Anders disagreed. "It's about trust. I promised exclusivity, and now I broke my promise. Yes, yes, Lucanis started it, but I did not stop him..." He sighed.

"I had not realised what he meant to you, truly, what you meant to him..." Dorian shook his head. "That wasn't just a casual affair. Concessions have to be made."

"And yet I had to make a choice, for myself, if anything," Anders was adamant. "I too require exclusivity... from myself, most of all..."

"And you feel that that kiss went too far," Dorian looked him in the eye. "Well, I don't think so. Not given the circumstances... and everything..."

"I feel awful..." Anders shook his head. "Torn..."

"Don't overthink it," Dorian smiled. "Or, if you wish, we draw a line at kissing... just for Lucanis," he added, suddenly looking stern. "How's that? You, Warden Anders, are allowed to kiss Lucanis Dellamorte at all times, but everything else and anyone else is out. Does that make you feel better?"

"I suppose..." Anders sighed. "What about you though? Whom will you be kissing?" He asked with a little mischievous smile.

"Oh... no... I won't be kissing anyone besides you, meu bem," Dorian smiled with sadness. "The love of my youth is very much like Lucanis' Mathilda - although the person is still alive, it is no longer the one I loved... or still love perhaps..." He sighed, remembering the demon's offer in the Arlathan Forest. "Regardless. No kissing for me."

They stood there a while longer, sharing the warmth of their feelings.

"Worry not, I trust you to walk that edge," Dorian whispered in Anders' ear. "You can trust yourself on that, too."

"Can I? Can I really trust myself?" Anders smirked.

Dorian pulled back slightly and looked at Anders shrewdly. "But this isn't about Lucanis, is it? You're worried about the Blight."

"Yeah..." Anders nodded. "What does Fiona want from me? Or from you? Who was the real target of this attack? And why? Am I the weakest link..?"

"You worry too much," Dorian said firmly. "We don't know the answers to those questions, other that it seems that Fiona wants power over the mages of Tevinter. We do have some of the strongest magic, if I say so myself..."

"The sort of thing she tried to arrange during the Inquisition?" Anders looked up.

"Only it backfired then, but yes." Dorian released the embrace and walked over to a small writing desk, taking out some papers. "This is a wedding license," he showed Anders the document. "If you agree, I want to file it with the Magisterium..."

Anders snatched the paper from Dorian's hands and read:

I, Dorian Pavus, Magister of the Imperial Senate of Tevinter, give notice of marriage to Anders of Ferelden, a Warden of the Order of the Grey, and a registered and legal slave of House Pavus of Minrathous. The ceremony is to take place in accordance with the laws of the Tevinter Imperium... etcetera, etcetera.

"But... I am a man," Anders was rooted to the spot. "This..."

"The laws of Tevinter do not actually specify that the spouse has to be female," Dorian smiled. "I never knew... it's not done, it does not exist... but it isn't forbidden... It's simply that no one tried it before."

"But... will they permit it?" Anders was still in shock.

"This is a notice, it does not require approval," Dorian was still smiling. "Meaning that they cannot refuse. It is for that reason that I went to all the trouble of citing the appropriate codices and annals and paragraphs... They can check it all for themselves - the law does not forbid it!" He was jubilant.

"You... want to marry me..?"

"I do."

Anders slumped on a chair, the license still in his hand. He read it again... I, Dorian Pavus, Magister of the Imperial Senate of Tevinter, give notice of marriage to Anders of Ferelden...

"Linus Kristavssen of the Anderfels," he finally said, looking at Dorian. "That is my name, along with 'Anders of Ferelden'. Best do it right, amor."

...

The furor that Dorian's notice produced at the Magisterium, was beyond imaginable. It outshone all other recent sensations, including Neve's proof found in the Arlathan Forest, the promised cure for the blight, the darkspawn attack in the catacombs and even the tear in the Veil in the Pavus Manor - all of that took a back stage to the greatest and most sensational scandal of all - a gay marriage. Dorian was right, it wasn't actually forbidden, and the authorities were powerless to prevent it from going ahead... Dorian once again took his rightful place as the Magisterial Pariah.

"This comedy is getting rather repetitive," he was saying at dinner. "Everyone shouting 'you can't do this' and then realising that in fact I can... and we will." He smiled at Anders. "Unless you'd rather not be showered in rotten eggs on your wedding day."

"It can't be worse than the Joining," Anders smirked. "Bring it on!"

"When is the wedding?" Lucanis asked. "And is Fiona also invited?"

"That is an excellent question," Dorian turned to him. "You understand why I rushed it, right? We are required to give a week's notice, at least. The ceremony can take place later, but legally the marriage will be already in effect.  We'll set a date... say... in a month, so Fiona has time to make a move... or to lay low, which would be annoying. Either way..."

"She is not laying low!" Viago pointed at the window. "Look - here she comes!"

Indeed, a richly adorned carriage stopped in front of the Pavus Manor and a lady in impeccable robes stepped out.

"I believe I am expected," they heard her voice from the corridor and the butler showed her in.

"My Lady," Dorian rose politely to greet her.

"Fiona, please," she smiled. "We all know who we are here, don't we?" She looked around the room and everyone nodded a greeting. "I hear congratulations are in order! Magister Pavus is finally getting married! Oh my... I hadn't seen that coming, I must admit." She took a seat and accepted a drink offered to her.

"Legal necessities do sometimes rule the day," Dorian inclined his head. "I would not have rushed it, but the circumstances do not tolerate delays."

"The... circumstances?" Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Oh... your infection, you mean. I see."

"Quite."

"I imagine it will make no difference to your plans," she smiled at Anders, "but we do have a cure for the blight. Perhaps it will make a difference to your other plans though."

"The most pressing matter now, besides the marriage, is to defeat the Blight," Dorian said coolly. "My condition is stable, it will keep, I hope. Legal provisions are needed in the event of my death which, frankly, is more likely to be at the hands of darkspawn than from the infection. Anders is officially a slave and that will be relinquished with the marriage."

"I see." Fiona paused, sipping her wine. "Then perhaps we shall speak again, should you survive..." She rose to leave. "Which I very much doubt. We are ready for you, Warden," she added, looking at Anders. "We are ready for all of you," she looked at everyone in the room. "I cannot attend your wedding but I do extend my very best wishes of a long and happy life..." She smirked. "A contradiction in terms for someone marrying a Grey Warden... Good day to you all."

...

"We are ready for you..." Viago repeated Fiona's words. "What did she mean by that?"

"That whatever army she's been building, is strong enough to take on the remaining Grey Wardens and their friends," Anders smirked. "Driving back this Blight won't be easy."

"And where is this battle to take place?" Teia mused. "They attacked Minrathous twice now, and Fiona is here, but somehow I don't feel..."

"...that Minrathous is the real target?" Dorian looked up. "I agree. Confusion is one of her weapons... but may be... hmm..."

"We could turn it against her?" Lucanis grinned. "You have another plan, Magister Pavus."

"Well, they did want to make me into a showcase of their ritual to cure the blight..." He smiled. "What if... what if I changed my mind... what if... our marriage is not strictly for legal reasons... what if... I cannot bare the thought of my life ending prematurely because of the infection... because I love him and want our time together to last..." His voice trailed off but no one spoke, giving Dorian and Anders the time to finish the thought without speaking.

"This will be dangerous," Anders got up and stood by Dorian's chair, hugging Dorian from behind. "If she seeds you with red lyrium..." He tightened the embrace, burying his face in Dorian's hair.

"You will have to be very cautious," Lucanis said in a hollow voice. "You are putting your life on the line."

"Isn't there any other way..?" Teia was close to tears.

"I have no intention of going through with it though!" Dorian exclaimed, seeing all the long faces. "I just want to draw them out..."

"They are no idiots and won't necessarily believe you," Lucanis pointed out. "But I do like the idea... only may be it is too risky."

"What about Neve?" Anders suddenly looked up. "That rash on her skin... Perhaps I should pay her a visit and see how she's doing..."

"Without throwing tantrums this time," Lucanis gave him a long look.

"Well... she'll forgive me, I think..." Anders grinned. "May be this is why Varric agreed to Fiona's scheme... oh, she must be involved with him too... not for himself... but if someone close to him contracted the blight..."

"Hawke..." Dorian nodded. "Only Varric isn't actually rotten to the core and could not bring himself to seeding another person after the first victim died... but skin rash won't cut it for the Emissary..."

"Especially if that Emissary is under Fiona's control!" Anders finished his sentence. "If Neve can convince Varric to put our differences aside... I'll promise not to call him Scheisszwerg if he doesn't call me Blondie."

"Is that what this is all about - name calling?!" Viago glared at Anders. "Unbelievable!"

"Not really," Teia shook her head. "I don't like it when you call me..."

"Alright, alright!" Viago cut her off. "No need to air that in public, dear..." Then, noticing quizzical looks from Anders and Dorian, he added: "We are not actually a couple... Teia and I... just old friends..." But the smirk on Lucanis' face was enough to dispel that myth. "We..." Viago paused, looking at her. "It's complicated."

"And when is it not?" Dorian laughed. "Very well, it seems we have a plan. Neve is to receive a visit from her favourite healer..."

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E411 - São loucos!

When Dorian and Anders entered The Gay Vint, all conversations ceased and even the band skipped a beat. They walked up to the bar and as the barman was pouring their usual drinks, Dorian turned to look around the room. All eyes were on them, but no one came forward. Dorian smirked and turned back to the barman.

"You're the talk of the town again, Magister Pavus," the barman said with a wink. "Didn't think I'd live to see what you two plan on doing."

"It isn't forbidden, never has been," Dorian shrugged.

"Not in law, may be," the barman conceded. "But the society won't forgive you."

"The society!" Dorian laughed. "Including this society here." He turned around, looking at the patrons of the one openly gay bar in town.

"They won't forgive you making them all look like cowards," the barman said softly. "It has always been assumed that they could not marry, that it was forbidden in law... but now... well... quite a few of them will have questions to ask of their partners."

"You don't need to feel bad or blame anyone," Dorian said loudly. "It wasn't easy to find out! It's not exactly advertised! We have all been led to believe that gay marriage was forbidden! That people like us do not exist in Tevinter! But no more."

He smirked, watching some people shiver. Anders took a step towards him, wrapping his arm around his waist.

"Well said, amor," he smiled. "Well said." He turned Dorian to face him, took him in an embrace and kissed him, their profile facing the "audience". Some people gasped.

"You'd think they've never done it themselves," Damien approached the bar. "Cowards and hypocrites, the lot of them." He watched Anders and Dorian for a little while, then spoke again, to no one in particular. "They... we... all do it in the privacy of our bedrooms... or in one of the many private rooms upstairs... or sometimes on the dance floor obscured by the other dancers... But to stand in front of everyone and do it... For that, your name has to be Dorian Pavus."

"Tevinter is odd, indeed," Anders turned to him. "Anywhere else..."

"Anywhere else it would be just as outrageous," Damien interrupted him. "Not in public! You cannot kiss your beau in public like that! Not in Tevinter, not in Antiva, not in Ferelden!"

"Err... I guess I've been a Grey Warden for too long," Anders laughed. "We tend not to care..."

"Is it... Is it just for legal reasons?" Damien squinted at Dorian. "I know you had to make him a slave again... and your condition... I imagine you didn't want him to remain a slave after... err..." His voice trailed off.

"After my death?" Dorian finished his sentence. "Yes, this is why we rushed it. But this is not why we're doing it."

"So... I didn't realise just how right I was..." Damien looked uncomfortable.

"What's the problem, old boy?" Dorian smirked. "It's fine as long as it's casual, is that it? Because we're gay, we just play, it's never serious, feelings are never involved? I thought you'd know better."

"Oh, I do know better... we all do... But it is something quite different to actually say it aloud."

"Then perhaps we should get used to it."

...

When Neve returned home after a day in the city, she found someone sitting slumped against the wall of her roof apartment.

"Have you been waiting long?" She recognised Anders. "You aren't... checking up on me, are you?" She smirked.

"A while and yes, I am checking up on you," Anders got up. "I never figured out what that rash was..."

"Shhh... not here," Neve looked over her shoulder. "Come inside."

Her home was modest and not particularly tidy which Anders thought strange considering Neve's reputation of a meticulous investigator. Perhaps that didn't extend to household chores, or perhaps Neve had been too preoccupied. She tossed some cushions on the floor rug and gestured Anders to take a seat - she did not have a sofa.

"I hear congratulations are in order," she said with a smile, uncorking a nice bottle of wine. "Oh, I can afford this... don't fret," she smirked expecting a protest but Anders wasn't protesting. "I just never thought you'd..."

"No? Perhaps you don't know me very well," he smiled, accepting the wine.

"No, I don't... Hmm..." Neve squinted at him. "Perhaps that will change... but this is to your future with Dorian, with my best wishes... quite sincere ones, in fact."

They drank a toast, but Anders wasn't going to let that slide.

"Last time you were less than flattering in your opinion of Dorian," he reminded her. "Have you changed your mind?"

"Yes, I decided I don't have an opinion," she smiled. "I just never stopped to think... too driven, I guess... but in fact, it doesn't matter. You didn't come here to talk about him."

"Very well, let's cut through the chase," Anders nodded. "Your rash. Any developments?"

"Not that I can see," Neve shook her head. "Look, it's still the same." She rolled up her sleeves to show the rash on her arms.

"Take off your clothes," Anders wanted to see the rest. "You had some on the back as well."

He took his time examining the rash but again could not sense any magic within it.

"It looks like a tattoo of red ink," he finally decided. "Do you not remember when it was done?"

"No, I do not..." Neve shook her head. "I do remember when I discovered it, on the arms. I cannot imagine how anyone would be able to give me a tattoo without me remembering it!"

"Oh, that's easy enough, I don't remember getting half of mine," Anders smirked. "They got you drunk or drugged, it would not take long to make a simple design like that..."

"But why?!" Neve was rubbing the rash on her arms, realising that yes, it looked exactly like a red ink tattoo.

"Varric needs to seed someone with red lyrium, but Varric isn't... well... it's not in his nature... he would not do that normally..." Anders shook his head. "I guess what I'm trying to say... I hate it when he calls me Blondie but besides that, he isn't a bad sort."

"You think he did this?" Neve rubbed her rash again. "Instead of the actual seeding?"

"I think so," Anders nodded.

"Which means he's planning on turning me over to the Emissary!" Neve jumped up. "Oh - my - gosh!!!" She started pacing the room, her face going from red to white to red.

"Neve, calm down!" Anders said with some urgency. "Calm down, Neve!"

But Neve wasn't calming down. In fact she looked like she was about to burst into tears or to tear the house down, whichever came first. She was in panic.

"Neve!" Anders jumped up too, catching her in a hug. "Stop panicking. I want to help you. I never said I wouldn't."

Tears came first. Restrained and not able to pace about, Neve lost a hold on herself and broke down in a flood of tears. Her sobs carried all the pain and anguish of the past year or two, from the realisation of the ultimate purpose of Zara's exploits and the degree to which she helped put them into practice, to her unsuccessful attempts to change allegiance, to blaming Dorian for her misfortunes, to getting used by Solas for only very limited gain... and up to her irrevocable demise sooner than she would have liked... Neve was grieving her failed life, her cruel fate of one not being born with enough money to match her ambition. And if wasn't for Anders holding her, she would have collapsed.

Anders knew that there was no point in talking to her until she calmed down, until the first flood of tears was over. He picked her up and sat her on the cushions, settling down next to her, with her head resting in his lap. Eventually Neve stopped sobbing.

"Ask Lucanis to kill me now," she said through silent tears that were still running down her cheeks. "It's better than the alternative."

"I could, but that's not why I'm here," Anders said, stroking her hair. With everything she'd done, he just could not see her as an enemy. "We can still fix this, Neve."

"You're just saying it..." She started sobbing again.

"Não só digo por dizer," Anders shook his head. "Not just saying it..."

"Que disse..?" Neve looked up, not expecting to hear him speak Tevene.

"Do you know who is behind it all?" Anders smiled at her surprise. "Who gave Varric the idea?"

"Who?" Neve sat up, her tears dried up. "I... I never stopped to think about that... I know you asked it last time... Have you found out?"

"Oh yes," Anders smiled. "It's Fiona."

"Fiona?!" Neve didn't seem to expect it. "The leader of..."

"The very same."

"But... why?"

"The same as last time she made a deal with a Tevinter Magister and a darkspawn lord - for power," Anders shrugged. "I imagine she believes she can control the Blight. You've heard of their miracle cure, no doubt? Dorian tells me it's all over the Magisterium."

"I have..." Neve said slowly. "I just never... oh... that's bad... that ritual requires red lyrium..."

"So, Neve," Anders gave her a long look. "You are an investigator. Don't just focus on your quarry, look around as well. The way I see it, it's time to come to our senses. We all want the same thing - to defeat the Blight. It's stupid that Varric should oppose us... He cannot lead Grey Wardens, and I don't think he wants to. I think Fiona offered him a cure for the blight in exchange for his help with the Emissary."

"But Varric is not infected, is he?" Neve seemed to have difficulty believing Anders.

"I don't think it's for him. He would not do it for himself," Anders looked at her with significance. "It's more important than that..."

"He isn't gay as well, is he?" Neve sat up.

"No, he isn't," Anders laughed. "But people can have friends... for whom they care very deeply... no need to be gay."

"Oh. It's just that he never married..." Neve shot Anders a glance, then lowered her gaze again.

"Neve, you are fishing," Anders shook his head. "This has no bearing on anything. You can ask him yourself, and if he chooses to tell you... well, then you'll know. But believe me - this is not it."

"Alright, now I want to know it all..." Neve smiled. "An investigator, remember? I don't always just focus on one thing..." She sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Help us end this stupid stand-off," Anders looked straight at her. "Between Varric and me. We are stronger together, we need to face this Blight together, or else we'll all lose. I don't know if there is a cure for the blight, there may not be... I sure would like to find it too, if it exists..."

"Dorian..."

"Dorian."

"But you do not believe in the ritual with red lyrium," Neve nodded.

"No. Do you?"

"No."

"No."

Neve nodded again and poured the wine.

"Give me some time," she said, raising her goblet. "Fiona will not be in a hurry. Yes, I know she visited the Pavus Manor, I know of the tear in the Veil... but that's just for show. Let me dig around here some more... come see me in a week or two. Plan your wedding, why don't you, we could all use some merriment, I reckon... once we recover from the shock. São loucos!" She laughed. "Crazy..."


---------------------

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Apr 10 2025, 12:32 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E411 - A line in the sand

"We shall return to Treviso," Lucanis exchanged glances with Viago and Teia after Anders told them about his visit to Neve. "But should there be any trouble, call me immediately," he looked sternly at Anders.

They left. The butler left too, taking the servants with him. Anders and Dorian stood alone in the lounge, the very same room where they spent so many afternoons together as friends, reading, talking... enjoying each other's company without having to think of the meaning of it all.

Anders took a step towards Dorian, embraced and kissed him.

"I can do it now, I've always wanted to do it..."

"What?"

"Kiss you..." He smiled. "But it was so complicated before... I should have just done it."

"And then what?" Dorian raised an eyebrow. "You weren't gay, I was. That's why you didn't do it."

"I think I've been gay for a very long time already," Anders stroked his face. "Wolf didn't seem to think I'd ever find a woman to my liking... 'The one that makes you stop running after all the others,' as he put it. I wonder what it means to be gay... I wonder why we need those labels."

"Forget the labels," Dorian shook his head. "No, with you the problem was the wrong kind of sex. And your addiction to pain."

"Addiction to pain?" Anders exclaimed in disbelief. "No, no addiction! I can very well do without, thank you very much! It was just a means to an end..."

"But that's what I mean... No one in his right mind would consider pain as a means to anything," Dorian smiled. "People avoid pain, but you embrace it."

"Well... put like that... that's right..." Anders nodded. "Sex with men was my source of pain... I didn't need to enjoy it because I wasn't gay. When I asked you to... help me change my mind..." He looked at Dorian and smiled. "I was giving up my reliable source of pain... because it would never be the same again..." He paused looking into Dorian's eyes but Dorian remained silent. "And I did it for Lucanis..." He shook his head. "I should have done it for you... I hurt you then, didn't I?" He suddenly realised how Dorian must have felt.

"But we were friends only," Dorian reminded him. "But yes, I was jealous... no, I was hurt. Yet I wanted you to be happy... that was more important to me than being the one with whom you were happy..."

"Dorian, I've been such a fool!"

"No, you fell in love... it happens," Dorian smiled. "Hot and intense, like everything you do..."

"It... fizzled out though," Anders looked up. "The flame is gone... but something still remains."

"Like embers..."

"No, not like embers," Anders shook his head. "Embers can be rekindled, but this passion cannot. The passion is dead, it ran its course, it... fizzled out. What remains... you know, I think it's friendship."

"While with us, it's the other way around," Dorian smiled. "Friendship was there first. The rest came later."

"It would have come a lot earlier if I wasn't ignoring and suppressing it because I kept telling myself that I wasn't gay!" Anders got angry at himself.

"Stop blaming yourself... you weren't ready. I wasn't ready. I did the same thing as you."

"Why?"

"Because to me, friendship is precious. I was afraid to lose it."

They've been standing there, talking, for quite a long time, examining their past feelings, speculating what would have happened this way and that... they felt the need to take it all apart and put it back together, to look in every crevice, at every twist, examine every missed opportunity to open up to each other. Then, suddenly, Dorian went pale and fainted. It was only for a brief moment and Anders held him from collapsing, but it could not be ignored.

"The blight is deepening," Dorian noted.

"We skipped your treatment with all that's been going on!" Anders suddenly realised. "It's all my fault... come on, we'll do it now."

Dorian tried to protest that it could certain wait till the evening, but Anders was adamant. "Now!" He shook his head and led Dorian to the bedroom.

"Liam, come in and lock the door," he called Dorian's valet. "I need your help."

"Liam?" Dorian was surprised. "But he's never seen..."

"Oh, I think Liam knows full well what's been going on," Anders watched him enter their bedroom and lock the door. "Liam has ways of finding out... So, Liam," he turned to him. "I shall perform the treatment, and when I am done, you will need to bandage Dorian's leg. You know how to do that, I trust?"

"Yes, Sir," Liam nodded.

"Wait, what are you planning?" Dorian looked up with worry. "You normally put on the bandage yourself..."

But it was too late - Anders had already started the incantation and wasn't listening.

That day, with each drop of his blood falling onto Dorian's wound, it was Anders who cringed in pain, black veins coming forward under his skin; it was Anders' blood that boiled; it was Anders who heard the screams of the Blight in his head. When the wound on Dorian's leg started to close, he nodded, withdrew his bleeding wrist and fell to the floor. Liam bandaged Dorian's leg as directed.

"Leave us," Dorian sent him away. "Now, what did you do that for, coração?" He picked up Anders from the floor and put him on the bed. "It is my pain to bear, not yours... you took it upon yourself again..." He shook his head. "Come now, release it..."

He held Anders close while the pain was ravaging Anders' body, piercing his liver, his heart, reaching every corner in a stream of liquid razor blades, until eventually it trickled out and Anders breathed easier.

"This was worse for you than it is for me," Dorian realised. "Don't do this again - I told you!"

"We delayed it too long this time, it would have been too much..." Anders still spoke with some difficulty. "But I... I can take more."

"This cannot continue," Dorian said decisively. "As soon as the papers are ready... As soon as you are no longer a slave... I want to request the Joining."

"So soon..." Anders smiled. "But I may lose you then... No, don't rush it... I can take a lot more pain..."

"Of that I have no doubt," Dorian said gravely. "But it's better that I should die before the main assault on the Blight... you will be one man short but you will pour your hurt into the battle and it will heal you..."

"Or I shall fall..."

"It is better we have a wedding after the Joining, should I survive," Dorian smiled. "It is better I face the Blight as a Grey Warden... although we could still fall then..."

"It is better we wed once the Blight is defeated," Anders nodded. "Once there is a promise of life again..."

...

"It hasn't even been a week!" Neve found Anders sitting on her doorstep again. "What's the rush?"

"It's something else..." He smiled. "I've got a favour to ask..."

...

"This portal is centuries old!" Dorian was examining an age old eluvian in a cave under Minrathous. "How did you get it to work?" He turned to Neve.

"I didn't, your elven goddess did," she smiled. "I had no idea it was here, the same as everyone else... but I wondered how she managed to move so swiftly... everyone thought it was through the Fade, but you cannot bring people through the Fade, it just didn't make sense. Then eventually I found this eluvian, and everything became clear. It leads to the Anderfels."

"This is how you teleported me last time!" Anders realised.

"And then I had to carry you to that inn, yes," Neve nodded. "Still unconscious... You are heavy!"

"Well, you could have just asked instead of hitting my head with a brick..."

The eluvian led them to a crumbling cave under the dungeons of the Grey Warden Head Quarters, and soon Dorian was doing his best to convince Alistair that his Joining had to take place sooner rather than later.

"My blight is deepening, I do not want to wait any longer," he was saying. "And should I perish... so be it."

"You will likely survive," Avernus entered the room. "I have a theory why Wardens die during the Joining. It isn't an Archdemon killing them - there is no Archdemon most of the time - no, it is the horror of what they see, that is the Blight. For someone unprepared, it is often too much to take in. But you... you are not unprepared," he looked at Dorian. "You've faced the Blight already. You've seen the blood and the horror, you've fought Archdemons even... You haven't yet heard the song... granted. So there is still a risk. But may be not quite as large as it would have been..."

...

"Dorian Pavus," Alistair spoke solemnly. "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

Anders watched as Dorian took the silver chalice from Alistair and brought it to his lips. He took a sip, and then another and collapsed as the Archdemon rose inside his head.

They had said their goodbyes already, they were prepared, but nothing could prepare Anders for the death of the one he loved.

"He will live," Avernus knelt over Dorian. "He is stronger than the Blight. Give him time."

Anders dropped to his knees next to Dorian, ready to slit his wrist, but Avernus stopped him.

"Not this time, Anders," he touched his shoulder. "This is a trial that he must stand on his own. It's different for everyone... some Wardens told me of theirs... I had no idea..."

"No idea of what?" Anders looked up. "You have the best idea of all of us what the song actually means..."

"The song is different for each of us, it appears," Avernus mused. "The shadow of the Archdemon whose blood we drink... the way it rises on the tide of the Blight... that varies. But he will live, the worst is past," he smiled to Anders. "I've seen it enough times..."

...

Anders and Dorian spent a week or so at the fortress in the Anderfels. All was relatively quiet, discounting constant darkspawn attacks that became routine. The Wardens were ready for them and no one fell in those battles, besides the darkspawn. The news of Dorian's and Anders' marriage soon reached everyone but did not become a sensation; Anders had to make a choice and he chose Dorian, and hence Lucanis took a step back. What else was there to say? Grey Wardens did not judge. Harding wanted to know every detail, however, but Anders shook his head and she too eventually stopped asking. With the newfound eluvian connecting the Anderfels with Minrathous and the portal from there to Treviso, it would be easy to assemble everyone quickly in case of a more serious attack, and so Anders and Dorian returned home to see if Neve had any new leads.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Apr 11 2025, 02:33 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E411 - Battle plans

"Any news?" Anders looked up seeing Neve climbing up to the rooftop where she had her apartment.

"Oh yes, and then some!" Neve grinned. "Come inside."

Neve seemed to be in much better spirits than last few times that Anders saw her; she looked in better health too. She showed him in, offered him fruit and wine, she was the most charming hostess and Anders smiled at her but there was unease on the back of his mind. The change was too striking.

"Have you started cheating on Dorian yet?" She suddenly asked with a cheeky smile.

"What?!" Anders was taken aback. "No!"

"You should," Neve smiled again. "With a woman. It won't even be cheating, you know."

"It would still be cheating and no," Anders shook his head in disbelief. "What brings this up?"

"Nothing, just wondering... given your promiscuity..." She looked straight at him. "I've been investigating."

"My promiscuity?"

"Your promiscuity, among other things," Neve nodded. "In particular in Kirkwall."

"Kirkwall..." Anders sighed. "That... well... I needed money..."

"Don't apologise, I am not judging," Neve grinned. "It's just that you got noticed during that time. Your blood got noticed."

"I am a blood mage," Anders shrugged. "I slit my wrists every day... I was using my blood for healing there, so yeah, I guess I got noticed..."

"No-no, that's not what I mean," Neve put a bowl of Anders' favourite dried figs and dates in front of him. "I mean blood during intercourse. Someone you've been with noticed that it was no common blood."

"He sensed my taint, right? Well, I am a Grey Warden," Anders shrugged, starting on the figs. "What of it?"

"Not just a Grey Warden," Neve was holding her secret close to her chest, only revealing a little at a time. "Your blood is special. You know what I mean."

"No, I don't," Anders shrugged. He guessed that she was probably talking about the special properties of his blood that he gained from drinking Avernus' mixture, but he wasn't going to say it.

"Oh, come off it, Anders," Neve beamed at him. "That person was blighted. He got your blood on his... err... body... and later realised that if it mixed with his, it made his blood boil like during a blood magic ritual... but it also made his blight recede... Were you not surprised that the same person kept coming back for more?"

"No, I wasn't, he wasn't the only one," Anders shrugged again. "They all drew blood... more or less... I would not know whom you mean."

"But you could sense the blight!" Neve frowned, as if Anders insulted her intelligence.

"Yes, I could, and I wasn't bothered because it presents no danger to me." Anders put down the fruit bowl and faced Neve. "Cut through the chase, Neve. What about that person?"

"He was a mage... and you gave him an idea," Neve beamed at him. "Remember the head of the Circle of Magi in Kirkwall? It was he!"

"And so?"

"And so... don't you see?" Neve rolled her eyes. "The bizarre shapes of blood magic transformations during the mage rebellion? The unusually strong and obedient demons? The sheer power of their spells? Red lyrium was involved, yes, but not just that. Also your blood."

"What?!" Anders sat up. "But that was years later! Even if he got my blood on his... err... at the time, there was no way he could have used it years later for anything!"

"You underestimate him."

"Evidently," Anders smirked. "Or rather you must be thinking of the other Anders who was not me. You know, the one that blew up the Chantry."

"You still say it wasn't you?" Neve squinted.

"I still say it."

"Hmm... well, that just doesn't fit..." Neve mused, leafing through her note book. "What does your blood do, anyway?" She looked up.

"It can slow down the blight somewhat," Anders sighed. "Not by much though... It's toxic to darkspawn... That's the same effect, by the way. It's got Grey Warden taint..."

"Yes, yes... Grey Warden taint..." Neve was still leafing through her note book. "Oh, here: Grey Wardens drink the blood of a slain Archdemon which gives unique properties to their taint... it isn't simply the Blight," she read and looked up. "May be it wasn't you, then. May be any Grey Warden would do. May be your blood isn't all that special after all."

"And may be you just don't know," Ander thought but didn't say it aloud, taking the fruit bowl again.

"Anyhow..." Neve resumed since Anders wasn't saying anything else. "Those transformations, those demons... They used the same binding rituals as always but added red lyrium into the blood... To do that, they seeded themselves with red lyrium first!" Neve's eyes went big in surprise. "Imagine that! They seeded themselves, then drew blood for the rituals, and that blood carried red lyrium in it! Which gave them the extra power!"

"I suspected something like that," Anders said grimly. "That would explain those strange transformations. But where does Grey Warden blood come in?"

"Some of them were blighted, like the head of the Circle of Magi. Grey Warden blood allowed them to keep their minds while the Blight was ravaging their bodies!"

"Hmm..." Anders stopped eating and looked at her. "They became 'awakened' darkspawn..."

"What?"

"Darkspawn that kept its mind, or regained it," Anders explained. "We came across some of them just after the Fifth Blight... They used Grey Warden blood to achieve it."

"Oh... so you knew about it already..." Neve's voice fell.

"I am a Grey Warden," Anders shrugged. "The Blight is my business, so yes, I knew about the awakening but I didn't know that such darkspawn was used in the Kirkwall rebellion. But it was years and years ago, Neve! How is that relevant?"

"It's the same ritual that Fiona is using to cure the blight," Neve said in truimph. "She was in Kirkwall, she saw everything that happened!"

"Hmm... but how does it cure the blight?" Anders squinted.

"It doesn't, of course," Neve rolled her eyes. "Do I have to spell it all out for you? It doesn't cure the blight but it does boost the person's life force so it looks like the blight is receding, while in fact the person's will becomes bound to Fiona's or to whoever is performing the ritual... And the victim has no idea until their master exercises that will!"

"The Blight is life," Anders said softly. "That would actually work."

"I know," Neve sighed.

"And Grey Warden blood is needed because..?" Anders prompted her.

"Oh... err... I don't know," Neve had to admit. "I thought it would reinforce the ritual, since your blood can slow down the blight... And yes, I know that it is only your blood, no just any Grey Warden blood that can do that, somehow... But if you are adamant that you weren't in Kirkwall during the rebellion but only years earlier... then, I suppose, it doesn't fit..."

"I guess not..." Anders nodded. "But what your information means, is that Fiona may in fact command a large army of people through this binding."

"And she uses Grey Warden blood to... how do you say... awaken the darkspawn?" Neve looked up.

"Yeah, get a few Emissaries fight intelligently... That's very dangerous," Anders agreed.

...

"So, you still don't trust her," Dorian smiled when Anders told him about the meeting with Neve. "You didn't tell her what your blood could really do..."

"Neve is useful but no, I do not trust her that much," Anders nodded.

"Do you think there's anything to Neve's story that someone noticed the properties of your blood back in the Kirkwall days?" Dorian wondered.

"They couldn't use it in the rebellion, I am sure, but they could have kept a sample..." Anders rubbed his chin. "And not necessarily from sex... I was using blood magic every day for healing... Anyone could have taken a sample of my blood without attracting attention... But what good would it do?"

"No good at all, that is rather the point," Dorian smiled. "Your blood neutralises the blight... well, partly, anyway... and thus it could interfere with Fiona's ritual."

"Which would explain why she wanted me dead," Anders looked up.

"The darkspawn attack on Minrathous, the tear in the Veil in this manor... yes, that explains that," Dorian nodded. "Also setting up Varric against you... and at the same time... Fiona could have done much better than that, if she really wanted to kill you. I admit, I am at a loss..."

"But ultimately none of it is important," Anders had had enough. "The real question is whether Varric's Emissary is still playing the role of the Archdemon, and if so, how does it benefit Fiona? And how to defeat them."

"The Emissary was supposed to escape in the end of the big battle, right?" Dorian smiled. "I bet he'll escape to Fiona and together they will be preparing the next Blight. Or whatever she is planning."

"Which means that in order to defeat them, we have to let him escape and we have to find a way to follow..." Anders nodded. "And then kill them both."

"And what about the elven god?"

"What elven god?"

"The one we didn't defeat... the one that was talking to Solas... what was his name again... Elgar'nan," Dorian reminded Anders.

"Oh... we leave him be."

"Why? He will raise the next Blight."

"Probably," Anders nodded. "But there will always be someone who will raise the next Blight. There are plenty more forgotten elven gods, there's more intelligent darkspawn, ancient corrupt Magisters, and so on. We cannot kill them all. I think Elgar'nan is no different."

"So, what do you intend to do?" Dorian looked up sharply.

"I think it is time to take the fight to Fiona," Anders said firmly. "Morrigan said she could locate Varric's Emissary. We do that, we draw him out, the darkspawn horde will follow. We fight. In the end he will try to teleport and Morrigan will take us with him, I'm sure she can do it, or else she can find him again. Fiona will likely be there, so another fight. We kill them both, ending the Blight."

"That's a brilliant plan," Dorian laughed. "Plenty of opportunities to die in the line of duty. The only difficulty will be to get Alistair to approve it because, you know, he is the Warden-Commander."

...

"This is sheer madness, Anders!!" Alistair was shaking his head. "Didn't Fiona say she was ready for us? You will face overwhelming odds!"

"I can locate the Emissary in the Fade," Morrigan joined in. "And I can deliver you to wherever he is going, but I cannot take an army with us! It will be just a few people, Anders! Just a few people against her whole army!"

"Which we don't know whether it even exists," Anders pointed out.

"No, we don't," Alistair agreed. "But even if she is alone... she is not to be trifled with."

"True. But what choice do we have?" Anders looked straight at Alistair. "What choice did you have but to stand up against the Blight with just two Wardens?"

"The duty that cannot be forsworn," Alistair said softly. "What choice indeed..."

"Well, Bianca is excited," they heard a familiar voice and Varric walked in. "It's time we stopped this madness, eh, Anders?" He smiled at him. "We can restart our mutual name calling after the Blight is done with," he winked.

"I'm game if you are," Anders grinned. "But there's something I need to tell you first..."

"That there is no cure for the blight," Varric said softly. "Yeah, I worked that out... It was stupid of me to hope..."

"Don't say that," Anders looked him in the eye. "I know exactly how you feel..."

Varric threw a glance at Dorian and nodded, he did not need to say anything else.

"Well, if we are all sure..." Alistair looked around the room. "Even though it is complete madness and suicide..."

"So, here's what we do..." Morrigan took over and Alistair seemed all too happy to let her take the lead.

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E411 - Fiona's endgame: a warm welcome

"We shall go into the Fade and draw out the Emissary," Morrigan was explaining her plan. "We'll attack and make him follow. Once he's out of the Fade, the darkspawn horde will join him - they will attack the fortress."

"We shall be ready for them," Antoine nodded. "Evka has been working on the catapults... Catapults!! They've not been used in centuries..."

"More like never," Evka smirked. "But they will work now!"

"But what if the Emissary does not take the bait?" Lucanis squinted. "What if he doesn't believe it's time yet?"

"Then we'll kill him," Anders shrugged. "When he realises we're not bluffing, he'll take the bait."

"Or not..." Lucanis was not convinced.

"Well... Should that happen, it will be a setback, then you kill him and return here," Alistair decided. "We regroup and come up with a new plan."

Everyone sighed but agreed.

"So..." Morrigan picked up the thread. "The battle against the darkspawn horde won't be easy but we only need to kill the Emissary. Or rather, we expect him to escape rather than die," she smirked. "That will likely not stop the horde, you will still need to kill them all."

"Charming," someone grunted.

"It's the Fifth Blight all over again..." Alistair looked at her. "I still have flashbacks of that day..."

"At least you got to fight the Archdemon!" Oghren scowled. "The rest of us were sodding stuck clearing the darkspawn filth in the city..." He shook his head and took a large swig from his hip flask. Alistair, Morrigan and Oghren were the only ones of the current company who fought in the Fifth Blight.

"And just like then, a small group will follow the Emissary, while the rest of you will have to deal with the horde..." Morrigan continued. "I can carry three... may be four..."

"Carry?" Evka looked up.

"We might be able to use his portal but I doubt it," Morrigan explained. "More likely we'll fly... I can carry three or four on my back..."

"In your dragon form," Dorian smiled. "Just like during the Inquisition."

"Yes," she smiled. "I am glad at least someone remembers... I do help."

"We remember," Alistair glared at her. "Planning any special rituals this time?"

"No," she shook her head, shooting a glance at Kieran at the back of the room. "So, who is coming to the dance? We shall be facing a lot of mages... a lot of abominations... likely worse than Kirkwall. We do not have to kill them all... but we must kill Fiona."

"The others will become easy prey once she's dead," Neve nodded.

"May be, or may be not," Varric shook his head. "It didn't work out like that in Kirkwall... not fully..."

"I am coming along, you need a blood mage," Anders said firmly.

"You need a very experienced blood mage," Avernus corrected him. "I am taking your place. You stay back - the Wardens here need a healer."

Anders went red in the face and shook his head but said nothing, for now.

"One," Morrigan counted.

"You need a demon, Spite and I are coming with you," Lucanis looked at her.

"Two," Morrigan nodded.

"Fiona will be glad to see me," Varric smirked. "Bianca is excited."

"Three," Morrigan smirked but accepted. "He's a dwarf, we can take one more."

"You need a templar..." Alistair started but everyone shook their heads. "What?! I'm a templar!"

"You are indeed a templar," Anders said softly. "I never doubted you. But we need you here."

"I'll go," Dorian looked up. "Blood magic and necromancy... both could come useful," he smiled. "What?" He looked around, noticing surprised faces. "What else would you expect from a Tevinter Magister?" He smirked.

"No, I'll go," Emmrich stepped forward. "Necromancy is a good point... if the rest of you will allow me..?" He looked at everyone with a question.

"Four," Morrigan said, looking up. "Avernus, Lucanis, Varric, Emmrich and I will face Fiona's abominations..."

"The fight might spill over," Avernus noted. "Be ready," he looked at Anders.

"We shall form a forward force," Anders took the lead. "We shall tackle any Emissaries, walking boils or other forms of darkspawn capable of calling up reinforcements. Dorian, Harding and Taash - you are with me."

"You are leaving me back at the fortress," Alistair sighed. "I am not entirely useless..."

"No, you are not," Anders turned to him. "If the fight spills over... which I think it will... we shall need a templar to face Fiona. You have to be alive."

"Oh..." Alistair smiled and nodded. "Makes sense..."

...

Everything was prepared. The Wardens gathered outside the fortress waiting for the darkspawn horde to appear. Anders was walking among the fortifications wondering where they would be coming from. He approached one of the catapults and noticed Linus, the old Warden who could not walk, positioned at the controls.

"I don't need to walk to work it!" He beamed at Anders. "My arms are still strong, my pain is bearable, thanks to that spirit you summoned for me... Linus Kristavvsen of the Anderfels..." He watched Anders, smiling. "I am glad that there will still be Warden Linus after this fight..."

"Provided we survive..." Anders met his gaze.

"Oh, I won't survive, I have no illusions," Linus shook his head. "Darkspawn will eventually break through, there will be fighting on the battlements, fighting in the fortress... and my inability to walk will spell my doom then..." he sighed. "But it will be a good death worthy a Grey Warden! So I'll say goodbye now, Anders... Linus... You must promise me to celebrate your wedding after this is over... Life must win in the end."

"Indeed... I promise," Anders smiled. "Here they come!!!"

...

Drawing out the Emissary proved easy, he seemed to have been expecting it. Morrigan led her group into the Fade through the same Deep Roads entrance where they entered the Fade to fight the elven goddess a few months previously. The passage looked the same as before at first, but this was the Fade, nothing was as it seemed. They turned a corner and the scenery changed, and soon they stood in a large cavern surrounded by darkspawn. The Emissary was waiting for them.

The battle was symbolic, if anything. They exchanged a few fireballs, but darkspawn wasn't attacking. Instead, they were protecting the Emissary's retreat.

"The real fight will be in Mundus," Avernus commented. "We should hurry, they are trying to get us trapped in the Fade..."

"...and have the main force be five man short," Varric scowled. "Clever."

They cut through the darkspawn and exited the Fade hot on the heels of the Emissary, before he could collapse the exit behind him. They chased him all the way to the Grey Warden fortress where the main horde of darkspawn were mounting an assault. They were well organised, even with the Emissary engaged in a battle of his own, and Avernus pointed out several other Emissaries directing the battle.

"They are well prepared, indeed," he shook his head. "While we are tied up here, the rest of the horde acts on its own..."

"We don't need to be tied up all that much," Lucanis didn't like it. "It doesn't take all five of us to keep this one Emissary busy," he squinted. "I bet that's their plan... while in the meantime Anders is getting slaughtered over there!" He pointed at a mighty storm cloud hovering over a patch of heavy fighting resembling a whirlpool of flesh and blood. "He needs help!" And before anyone could protest, he opened his spirit wings and dived towards the fight.

"But..!" Morrigan cried, then shook her head. "Oh never mind, I guess he's right..."

"A change of plan, I think," Avernus turned to her. "I shall stay with the Emissary, the rest of you join the main battle. Oh, I am more than a match for him, never fear... he isn't the strongest," Avernus smirked. "When he teleports, I'll alert you," he looked at Morrigan. "Then collect the others and follow me."

The sea of darkspawn was still coming in, with more Emissaries appearing, there was no time to waste.

...

"Now, Morrigan!" Avernus shouted, noticing the main Emissary that he was engaging, preparing to open a portal. "A portal! I shall endeavour to keep it open..!"

But how could Morrigan hear him over the noise of the battle while being on the other end of the battlefield? Yet hear him she did... talking gems were not that uncommon, after all. As soon as Avernus called, a dragon rose over the battlefield, circled to pick up a few people and flew towards the Deep Road tunnels where Avernus was holding the portal open. The Wardens saw it and breathed with relief: darkspawn would get no further reinforcements, and all they had to do now was clear the horde before them... preferably before the next phase of the battle began.

...

"Oh my, what a delegation!" Fiona greeted four people riding on a dragon's back. "Your dragon form is impressive, Morrigan!" She smiled. "Too bad there isn't enough of Mythal in you to do any real damage..."

She cast a spell and a blighted dragon appeared at her side. "Go play!" She prodded it.

"Just like during the Inquisition..!" Varric swore. "Here we go! Morrigan is out." Indeed, Morrigan in her dragon form was now engaging the blighted dragon. "Wait for it..!" Varric seemed to know what would come next. "Abominations!"

Fiona cast a spell, or may be just clapped her hands, there was some noise and movement behind her and a repulsive fleshy abomination ran to the front.

"A harvester! But no golem to carry him?" Varric smirked. "You are slipping, Fiona."

"This is just a teaser..." She smiled, retreating into the shadows.

The harvester was swift, it had razor-sharp teeth and claws and it cast magic... blood magic.

"It is trying to turn you to its side, take heed!" Emmrich cried, dispelling a red cloud around himself. "It will make your blood boil next! The more blood we spill, the stronger it becomes!"

"Then we must kill it quickly!" Lucanis stopped, watching it, searching for the weakest spot... he'd never seen a monster like that before. "Does it have a heart? I guess we'll find out!" He leapt, his spirit wings carried him high, then he dived, landing on the back of the harvester, and planting his sword deep into the harvester's body. The monster reeled but did not die. It seemed that if it did have a heart, it wasn't in the usual place. "The bloody thing has no neck!!" Lucanis swore, trying to figure out how to cut off its head.

"Plant your sword into its skull!" Avernus shouted over the shrieks of the harvester. "That works on dragons!"

"Dragons have a brain," Varric smirked. "But this thing... who knows!"

"It's worth a try!" Lucanis thrust his sword right between the eyes of the harvester, then drove it up, slicing the skull in two. Green puss gushed out of the wound... "Ugh!!!" Lucanis was covered in it, his life force quickly dwindling.

"It is blighted!!" Avernus ran up to him, pulling off the dying monster and slitting his own wrist in one movement... "Let's hope it works the same way as with the boils..." he muttered as his dark blood covered the puss on Lucanis' body. The mixture boiled violently and went up in a cloud of fog. Lucanis slowly sat up, shaking his head.

"Did I die just now?"

"No, but you came close," Avernus helped him up. "I don't know... I hope you have not been infected... I acted as quickly as I could..."

"Don't worry, Avernus," Lucanis smiled. "I am glad I did not die this time." He kicked the harvester's corpse with his boot. "Where to next?"

The fight with the harvester may not have been long, but it took all of their attention, and they did not notice where Fiona vanished to. It was the Fade, she could be anywhere.

"Follow me!" Emmrich called, standing in front of a solid rock wall. "This way!"

"What - through the rock?!" Varric squinted in disbelief.

"It is no rock," Emmrich smiled. "It's an illusion..." He put his hand through it to demonstrate.

"I'll be damned..." Varric shook his head but followed.

"Through here..." Emmrich led them down a narrow passage, there was a dim yellowish light in the depth. "She's that way..."

"How do you know this, exactly?" Varric still wasn't sure.

"I... can sense her," Emmrich sounded uncertain himself. "I don't really understand it... she should not be dead..."

"Dead?!" Lucanis caught up with him. "Like... err..." he recalled Emmrich telling them about the fate of his old friend Johanna. "Like she's half-undead?" Lucanis decided against mentioning Johanna by name.

"Half-undead?!" Varric was visibly worried.

"It does not matter now, we can analyse it later," Avernus interrupted the discussion. "After we kill her, one way or the other. First we must find her!"

"Or some of her friends! Watch out!!" Lucanis yelled as several harvesters ran towards them from the gloom ahead. "Mind their heads!!!"

...

"Well, you seem to be stronger than I expected," Fiona watched them emerge from the red mist of an epic battle. "Still all alive? Remarkable..." She shook her head. "But not for much longer," she smiled. "You should have killed him when you had the chance, Lucanis." She snapped her fingers and Illario stepped forward from the shadows, a red lyrium pin in the lapel of his jacket. He touched it and Lucanis collapsed, just like back in Treviso.

"You won't wake up this time, cousin," Illario smirked. "Your mage isn't here." He looked around the room and flicked his wrist. "As for the rest of you... The Crows send their regards!"

Before anyone could react, half a dozen Antivan Crows assassins jumped out of the shadows...

"Bastards!!!" Varric yelled, twisting away and throwing a smoke grenade into the fray. He showered them with a spray of crossbow bolts, not bothering to target anyone in particular since they were moving too fast. He only hoped he didn't hit his own party...

"Emmrich - frost!!!" Avernus yelled but Emmrich was already incanting it, having had the same idea.

"Your soul is mine, Avernus!!" A demon rose from the ground.

"Oh shut up, Armaros," Avernus scowled. "Attack!!!" He cried slitting his wrists for another blood magic spell. "Your blood is mine!!"

Everything was over as suddenly as it began. The assassins were on the ground, some dead, some rolling in pain, some getting up and slitting the throats of those that were still alive... Only Illario was immune to Avernus' blood magic, protected by his red lyrium pin. He drew his swords and launched himself onto Avernus who stood quite defenceless keeping his magic going...

"Bianca dislikes traitors," Varric swore and spit, firing a single bolt through Illario's heart.

"You can have those, Armaros," Avernus gestured at the dead assassins. "Until we meet again." The demon hovered over several assassins and faint silvery threads were visible rising out of their bodies and disappearing into the demon's. The demon vanished, carefully avoiding Illario and his red lyrium pin.

"Even a demon avoids red lyrium," Emmrich was watching it with interest. "A friend of yours?" He looked at Avernus.

"An old acquaintance," Avernus smiled.

"Did you just summon a demon..?" Varric looked baffled. "And I thought Wolf was bad with his blood spraying..."

"I was the one who taught him," Avernus grinned. "Yes, I just summoned a demon. But he got his payment and left, we are in no danger. When faced with red lyrium..." He looked at the body of Illario, the pin still in his lapel.

"Yeah... bad business..." Varric shook his head. "And Lucanis is dead too..."

"Lucanis isn't dead," Emmrich knelt over him. "This happened before... Lucanis is fine, it's his demon that got knocked out... his resident spirit... Determination."

"And Anders isn't here..." Varric looked puzzled. "Why does it have to be Anders, actually? 'Your mage isn't here', Illario had said... but they are no longer..." He didn't continue, shaking his head.

"Oh, they are still bonded, nothing's changed," Avernus was checking Lucanis' pulse. "Hold on..." he spoke softly. "If I know my boy, he's on his way already..."

[Renee]

19 Hearthfire, 4E202 - Goblins

Yikes, they are indeed in a mage guild infested with goblins, foul little beasts, I hate the things! Are Dune/Elsweyr goblins different from Cyrodiil goblins? 👺

Ah, an errant mage seems to blame. Messing with teleportation portals in catacombs and such. Tsk tsk.

Exactly, that stupid Dwemer Puzzle box, took ages to find the darn thing. Because the entire time, we're looking for some sort of puzzle involved (at least I was). Meanwhile, the box is right there on a shelf, in plain sight.

Whoa, she hears the conversation she had two centuries before with Uriel in this dungeon, that's chilling.

Yet Baurus thought I was an assassin, judging by the way I moved, he said. It didn't make sense to me at all. I was sixteen years old, I had a rusty dagger and could throw a fireball. I was nothing. And the Emperor trusted me with the Amulet of Kings."

An assassin, wow. Nice to see which tools Lena picked up in the tutorial, where it all began. I love this entire conversation between she and Hauk.

"No, but I won't stand in your way if you wish to leave." Lena's glance wasn't hostile, it was indifferent. Hauk turned around and disappeared through the nearest door. Lena stood alone in an ancient structure of once white stone swallowed by luminous mist. "I am an assassin" - she said aloud.

Oh my gosh.

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341531

[Lena Wolf]

Yikes, they are indeed in a mage guild infested with goblins, foul little beasts, I hate the things! Are Dune/Elsweyr goblins different from Cyrodiil goblins? 👺

No, they are the same goblins, mostly. I might have altered a few for those dungeons but generally they are the same.

Whoa, she hears the conversation she had two centuries before with Uriel in this dungeon, that's chilling.

Yet Baurus thought I was an assassin, judging by the way I moved, he said. It didn't make sense to me at all. I was sixteen years old, I had a rusty dagger and could throw a fireball. I was nothing. And the Emperor trusted me with the Amulet of Kings."

An assassin, wow. Nice to see which tools Lena picked up in the tutorial, where it all began.

I remember I was quite surprised when Baurus suggested it... every single time I played the tutorial... I guess it says something about my playing style.

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E411 - Nunca me perderás

Anders collapsed mid-casting.

"What..?" Dorian knelt over him. "Not dead... then what?" He checked his pulse, touched his forehead... there didn't seem to be anything wrong with Anders, except that he was somehow knocked out. Dorian carried him over to a quiet corner and stayed with him, casting spells from where he stood. This was the second time that Dorian regretted never having studied blood magic seriously.

...

"Spite?" Anders looked around. He was standing on a misty mire and something was tugging at his soul. "Spite?" He called again. "Determination!" But there was no response, just more tugging. "Trouble," Anders decided. "So, what do I do now..?"

The mire was in the Fade, that much was clear, but why was he there? What happened? Whose Fade was that, even? He looked around, the place felt strangely familiar... Yes... The Black Marsh... it was the Black Marsh where they met that witch... the baroness... no, not a witch... an abomination... a Pride Demon abomination... they somehow entered the Fade... there was a fight and the baroness forced everyone back to Mundus... everyone, including one spirit that did not belong in Mundus... Justice... That was the place where Anders first met Justice, where Justice found himself possessing a corpse of a fallen Grey Warden, Kristoff... Yes... Anders paced about... it was all coming back to him... "This is my Fade," he realised. "But Justice isn't here... it's not about Justice... it's about Spite..." He felt another tug at his soul, as if something or someone was confirming his thoughts. "He is in trouble," Anders realised. "Lucanis is in trouble..!"

The mist was hovering low over the water of the mire, it was hard to see anything through it, hard to make out where to step... There were rocks, patches of grass, dirt, water, sand... "Got to see what's about," Anders decided, trying not to step into the water. "Last time... last time there was a portal over there... and corpses all over the place..." He peered into the low mist... and saw corpses rise from the ground. They were still corpses, they didn't come alive... yet... he shook his head and turned away - the Fade was showing him what he expected to see. "Got to find what doesn't belong here," he nodded to himself. "That mansion... is it as I remember it?" An abandoned mansion stood behind a stone wall, he could just see the upper balcony rising behind it. There used to be an entrance through the basement somewhere... and a great gate to the gardens, locked. Was it still the same? He decided to try the gate first, but it was still locked. "No way to get through that," he shook his head. "Just like last time..." he sighed. Last time the basement was a trap, the spirits wanted them dead. "Got to find Spite..." Anders kept pacing about. "Where would he be..? What happened? Why do I feel I've got to hurry..?" Panic was rising in him, he could not see clearly, the mist seemed to thicken, to cover more ground, to confuse him more and more...

There... something seemed to glow under the mist... It wasn't in the mansion, it was out in the clearing... that clearing... of course...

The clearing was littered with darkspawn corpses.

"That's different..." Anders stopped. "No, wait... the mansion is of no importance... it is this place... this was where we found Kristoff's body..." He looked closely at the corpses - one of them would not be darkspawn but a man... "Luca..!" Anders dropped to his knees - he found a man's body, exactly where Kristoff lay back then, but now it was Lucanis, and he was dead. A red cloud was hovering over him, making him appear as a vision inside the mist. "Luca..!" Anders did not bother suppressing his tears. He pressed his hands to Lucanis' chest, but it was much too late for heart compressions... the heart inside that chest was silent.

...

Anders didn't know how long he'd been sitting by Lucanis' body, not able to shake off an overwhelming feeling of grief. It was eating at his soul, it was consuming him from within, it was as if... "As if a demon is holding me here," Anders suddenly realised. He was in the Fade, the body of Lucanis was but an illusion... "Which demon?" Anders wondered, forcing himself to rise and walk away from the body. "Either Sloth or Despair..." Either of them was bad news. He would have to kill the demon to return to Mundus, but there was something else... something important... something that he couldn't quite put his finger on... why was he brought there in the first place? Surely, there was a reason... It seemed he'd spent years there already, he could not remember when or how he got there...

"Remember," a voice said inside his head and he felt a tug at his soul.

"Remember... what?"

"Siempre estas conmigo..." Lucanis' voice said in his head. "You're always with me..."

"Spite!" Memories came flooding back to Anders. Spite now looked like him, and may be there was more to it than just looks... It took some powerful magic to change Spite's appearance from that of Lucanis to Anders. "Always with me..." Anders repeated and tugging at his soul renewed. Lucanis had to make so many choices... He first had to accept Spite as a part of him, or die. He accepted Spite, accepted living as an abomination, always having this spirit inside him, never having a private moment entirely to himself... And then Anders and their affair... Was that love or just curiosity? And if it was really love, then would it displace his love for Mathilda? Or would they co-exist? Why was he even attracted to this man, to this mage, who was in so many ways the exact opposite of Lucanis? But something moved Lucanis to act out of character and to accept this affair without question or analysis, to let it unfold, to follow where it would lead... Yes, it was love, he decided. And no, his love for Mathilda did not die. Not when he wanted to brush it aside, not when he thought the demon had killed it. It recovered every time again, it was still there, the flame might die down for a time, but the embers were always hot, rekindling the flame again. He loved a woman that no longer existed... a woman that changed so much that she was no longer the same person to him. It was love that went nowhere, that only existed in his soul, and yet it refused to die. Then what of Anders? His ways were so different, he was a healer, he gave life while Lucanis took it. He took a risk with Anders... a gay romance was not something Lucanis had ever envisaged, and yet there it was, he started it and Anders picked it up. But Lucanis always knew that, as bright as their passion was burning, it was only temporary. It was new and strange and exciting for both of them, it had both depth and strength, and yet it could not displace Anders' prior attachment just as it could not displace that of Lucanis. Anders may not have understood it, but Lucanis had done: Dorian. Dorian was more than a friend, no matter how hard they were trying to convince themselves to the opposite; Lucanis saw all the signs. But at the same time Anders became a part of Lucanis, just as Spite was now a part of him, just as Mathilda of his youth became a part of him when he refused to let go of the memory. Anders was what stood between Lucanis and death so many times, Anders was the one person who saw his suicide attempts for what they were and quietly reversed them, Anders was the reason Lucanis was still alive... and once Lucanis saw it, it was only natural that Spite would look like Anders. Siempre conmigo... Always with me. "Spite!" Anders exclaimed again, running back to the corpse of Lucanis lying on the clearing. It wasn't a corpse and it wasn't Lucanis - it was Spite, back in Lucanis' form, and dying. Spirits could die, and if Spite were to die, he would take Lucanis with him.

"Siempre contigo," Anders knelt by Lucanis' body, placing his hands on the chest as if for compressions. "Siempre contigo... Always with you... Memories never leave us." He closed his eyes remembering that night when Lucanis' spirit was fighting a demon in the Fade while his body was dying in Mundus, he'd had a cardiac arrest, and Anders kept his heart going, kept massaging it, kept the body from crossing that line from where it could no longer recover. "Spite will not die for as long as Lucanis' soul sustains it," he thought. "But since they are merged, it won't take long for the soul to wither away... This happened before," He opened his eyes with a start. "Illario's red lyrium pin... It had nearly killed Spite and made Lucanis collapse, and then Lucanis had to accept living as an abomination, or else his soul would wither away... exactly like now... except... he had already accepted that..." Anders sighed and shook his head. What else was there to accept? "Accept him fully..." He realised. "They aren't that different, Spite and Lucanis, and now they have to merge, or else Spite will die, and Lucanis with him. But Lucanis isn't here... he is in Mundus, knocked out, and there is no time to talk it through... So what do I do..? Why am I here..?"

He looked at the form of Lucanis on the ground. If that was Spite, then why did he change his form? Perhaps Lucanis did not love him, Anders, anymore... but somehow that seemed unlikely. "Am I just being selfish?" Anders smirked to himself. The proof of that seemed to be before him. The mist on the clearing was starting to freeze, the cold was getting under his clothes, creeping towards Anders' heart... what was the point of it all? If Lucanis wanted to die, then who was Anders to stop him? A blizzard rose around him, etching that thought in his mind and erasing all else. Death would be sweet, indeed.

...

"I am you and you are not dead," Anders heard a hissing voice inside his head. "He needs you... we both do..."

"A demon..." Anders shook his head, his movements sluggish, frozen. "Despair. Despair is when you stop fighting, when you give up, when nothing matters any longer... but may be it still does..." He got up and looked around. The blizzard was coming from further away, was that an iceberg? A giant icicle? A rock covered in ice? A rune stone... a summoning circle... Anders suddenly rememebered. There was a summoning circle back in Black Marsh, back in the real world, and it seemed there was one in this Fade as well... "I cannot fight a Despair Demon," he realised. "Not strong enough... never was..." he sighed. "But if that demon is sustained by the circle... well... that's worth a shot..."

Targeting runestones seemed to have an effect and the blizzard let up. The air was still freezing and the cold was still creeping under the collar and up the sleeves, but it was no longer hugging Anders' heart.

No vento que lanca a areia no vidro
Na água que canta, no fogo mortiço...

An old song from another lifetime floated in the air. >>> Listen to the song

Eu sei, meu amor, que nem chegaste a partir
Pois tudo em meu redor...

The song died down again.

"Estás sempre comigo!" Anders exclaimed, completing the verse and turning the song around. His lover wasn't dead! It wasn't a farewell! That song had a completely different meaning!

A few fireballs took care of the runes in the summoning circle. The blizzard died down and the freezing cold started to melt. The demon wasn't defeated but it was gone for the moment, and that was good enough. Anders ran back to where Lucanis' body lay... his lover. No, he wasn't his lover any longer... and that didn't make any difference.

"Spite! Determination!" He called, placing his hands on the chest of the spirit corpse again. "You are me and I am you!" If Spite had been a mortal of flesh and blood, Anders would have slit his wrist and given him some of his life force. But Spite was a spirit... and Anders had no idea how to heal a spirit. "I grant you a gate to my soul..." His heart jolted when he said that... He was letting a spirit touch his soul again, it was Justice all over... but he was out of options.

"I am not Justice..." He heard Spite hiss in his head. "I won't stay... not with you..."

Anders closed his eyes. It was out of his hands now, it was between Spite and Lucanis... He felt a tug at his soul as Spite touched him taking sustenance and then leaving. No, that spirit was not going to stay, that spirit already had a host...

...

The air on the clearing started warming up with the mist rising and dissolving, and even something resembling a sun ray appeared in the sky.

"You came for me," Anders heard a familiar voice. "Again."

"Always," he smiled, watching Lucanis take a deep breath and sit up.

"Where are we?" He looked around. "I... feel different."

"It is the Fade, of course," Anders looked around, it was still the same place, looking much more welcoming now. "This is where I met Justice, all those years ago. Spite brought me here, or may be Spite followed me here... because of what this place meant to me. How do you feel?"

"Like you are inside me," Lucanis rubbed his chest. "In my heart."

"In your soul, may be, a little," Anders smiled. "And Spite?"

"He... is you... he is here, yet he is no more..."

"Then it worked. He is a part of you now, you are no longer possessed."

"How did you do that?" Lucanis squinted, not sure what to think of such a merger.

"I didn't do it..." Anders slowly shook his head. "I promised you not to interfere... back then, on the balcony in Minrathous. I only allowed Spite to take what he needed from me... but it was you who let him in."

"Because he was you and you were there already," Lucanis nodded. "Well... my friend..."

"My love..." Anders moved closer and took Lucanis in an embrace.

"My love... aye..." Lucanis smiled. "I do love you, I didn't lie. Which is why we are just friends now..."

"I become a memory like Mathilda..." Anders' voice fell.

"Not like Mathilda," Lucanis shook his head. "I want you to be happy. Really happy. And that won't be with me. Dorian was ready to do the same... for me. But no... that isn't right, we both know that. I shall be happy to watch you being happy with him. This is not like Mathilda. You and I have a talking gem," he smiled.

"We keep in touch," Anders smiled too.

"We don't lose each other. Nunca me perderás."

They had to leave before the demon returned, but there was still time for a kiss - the one thing that Dorian insisted was outside of their vows. "Considering all that you mean to each other, I don't think it goes too far," he had said. And this time Anders agreed.

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E411 - The final push

Lucanis sat up, gasping for air.

"Finally," Avernus smiled, checking his pulse. "For a moment there I wasn't sure..."

"He came for me - again," Lucanis looked up. "I am not dead because of him... for better or for worse."

"For better, definitely for better this time!" Varric was looking at him with interest. "I must say, I've seen resurrections... and reanimations... but nothing quite like this. I mean, you lay there dead. Then you just sat up and said hello. No big bang, no shimmering clouds, no drama. Pathetic, really," he smirked and winked. "But whatever works, I guess..."

"Oh, there was plenty of drama," Lucanis rolled his eyes. "Only it was..."

"For your eyes only," Varric nodded. "Yeah, I noticed that propensity of his to cover things up."

"Well, I guess this is one story that you won't be able to put into a book." Lucanis got up, turning his back to Varric, he started to see what was getting to Anders so much. It wasn't just the nicknames - Varric behaved as if he owned everything, and Lucanis tended to disagree. "You should know there's been a change," he turned to Avernus. "I am now..."

"I can sense it," Avernus interrupted him. "Best keep it to yourself for now."

"Right." Lucanis nodded. He was no longer an abomination, Spite, or the Spirit of Determination, had completely merged with his soul. What that meant exactly, Lucanis was still to discover. He felt different, while also feeling the same... it was confusing, but he could see Avernus' point - it was not the time to get confused, they still had a long battle to fight. And so he brushed it aside and redressed himself. "So. Fiona had fled, I take it?" He looked at his companions. "Where to next?"

...

"Ugh..." Anders opened his eyes, a battle raging around him. He noticed Dorian nearby casting spells at something further away, Harding losing arrows non-stop and Taash... he couldn't see Taash but he was sure she was breathing fire at some darkspawn or other. But Lucanis was safe, and that was all that mattered. Almost.

Anders got up and redressed himself. His wrists were bleeding profusely even though he could not remember slitting them for anything - it must have been an effect of the Fade, he figured. He was losing blood fast and not recovering, and that had to be addressed first of all. Bandages. When magic fails, a mage must not be too proud to resort to mundane means.

"There are more bandages and salves behind that rock!" Dorian noticed what Anders was doing. "You've been bleeding all the while... I did what I could..." He sighed apologetically and resumed casting lightning at something. "That blasted Alpha is getting too close!" He swore at it. "Now, die already!!!"

...

Darkspawn on the hill before the Grey Wardens fortress suddenly stopped fighting and dropped to the ground, dead. Darkspawn on the battlements did the same. The Wardens froze in surprise - this never happened before. Someone just killed all darkspawn. Remotely.

"I thought I'd clear the field for our last dance," Fiona stepped out of a portal, waved her hand and darkspawn corpsed melted into the earth. "Anders. I underestimated you." She smiled watching fresh blood stains appear on Anders' bandaged wrists. "You can take more pain than I thought humanly possible."

"I've had some practice," Anders frowned. "And I brought friends."

"Yes, I noticed! What fun!" Fiona beamed at him. "But they are stuck in the Fade, I'm afraid, at least those that still live... Your strongest and most proficient friends... they are lost. And whom do you have with you here? A Magister from Tevinter that does not practice blood magic... A scout from Ferelden who struggles with a bow bigger than she... A quanari fire breather who denies being a mage... I daresay this will be easy."

Fiona stood there, smiling, but Anders found himself unable to respond. It was all true, what she just said... and he, their leader, was a blood mage who lost too much blood already...

"Wardens!!" A clear, decisive voice came from behind him. "The leader of this Blight stands before you!" Alistair stepped onto the clearing, his sword raised high. "Fiona!" He looked into the faces of the Wardens on the battlements and on the slopes of the hill. They seemed strangely frozen. "Wardens!!" He called again. "Hear the song!! It is not gone, you are still Grey Wardens! This Blight is different, there is no Archdemon, there is just this blood mage twisting your minds! Next there will be demons! Be ready!!" He raised his voice to a shout and most people looked at him, shaking off their stupour. Whatever was going on, he was still their Commander, and if anything, they would simply follow him...

Alistair turned to Fiona, took a few steps and planted his sword into the ground in a mighty cleansing strike that sent shock waves through the entire battlefield. Fiona shrieked, her magic shield shuttering like glass. The dance had begun.

"Fall before me, blood mage!!" Alistair bellowed. "For I am a templar!!!"

...

The battle that followed was ferocious as anyone could have expected. Fiona summoned demons in troves, but by doing so she could not also maintain mind control of the Wardens at the same time. The Wardens snapped out of their trance and attacked the demons, while Alistair was keeping up pressure on Fiona with his endless cleansing strikes. And while it did prevent her from casting more blood magic, it also disrupted magic from the Wardens, Anders and Dorian included...

"Take a break - you can't get through his cleansing strikes!" Anders shouted to Dorian who kept having his spells interrupted. "Let's hope Luco's training rubbed off on me a bit!" He grinned, putting away his staff and switching to his dagger. "Fiona will bleed like her subjects!"

Fiona, however, was not using her own blood for her magic. When Anders circled behind her, he found several mages knocked out and bleeding in an alcove behind some rocks. Fiona came prepared. Looking closer, Anders realised that they had red lyrium crystals protruding from under the skin... "So, she gets their blood, and it's already augmented... How low can you fall, Fiona?" He muttered shooting her a glance. But this was too easy... the victims were not guarded in any way, or at least that's how it appeared. "Only one way to find out..." With his usual recklessness, Anders jumped at the opportunity and slit their throats.

"What did you do?!!!!" A massive explosion erupted all around Fiona, throwing Alistair back and causing Fiona's hair to catch fire. "Stupid boy!!!!" Fiona screamed, putting out the fire. A massive Pride Demon stepped out of a tear in the Veil right behind her, a tear caused by the excess of blood powering her spells - the blood gushing from the throats of the mages that Anders had slit. The flood of blood was brief but intense, sufficient to rip the Veil and summon a demon that was too powerful to be controlled by a mortal mage. The demon roared, a storm gathering in its hands.

"That won't be easy to defeat..." Anders sighed, cursing his lack of caution. "But, on the plus side, it is attacking Fiona..."

That demon wasn't the only one to step through the rip, more were coming. The most important thing to do now was to close that tear... and Anders had no idea how to do that.

"Close the breach!!!" Fiona screamed at him. "Or else we'll all die!!"

"But how?!" Anders screamed back. "How did you open it?!"

"I didn't, you did! You stupid apprentice!!!"

"I haven't been an apprentice for twenty three years!!!"

"You haven't gone through the Harrowing!! I know!!!" Fiona was furious. It was true that Anders never went through the official exam, he never actually graduated from the Ferelden Circle of Magi, he was still, technically, an apprentice... And although no one in their right mind believed it, technically it was true.

"Well then, you close the breach!!!" Anders bellowed. "Since you're qualified, First Enchanter Fiona!! You wouldn't want a mere apprentice meddle in such things!!!"

While they were arguing, more demons were pouring out of the breach and chaos was complete.

Dorian stopped casting and looked around. Another spell woundn't make a difference, nothing seemed to matter any more, and unless the breach was closed, the battle, the war, everything would be lost... "Well, I didn't imagine it like this but... how did it go? Oh yes... 'In Death, Sacrifice'." He nodded to himself, reciting the Grey Wardens motto and stepped through the breach into the Fade.