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

[Lena Wolf]

Ah, so that's the guy in Two Worlds. Hauk himself, eh? Not sure if the guy has some other name in TW. But that's Hauk as portrayed in Two Worlds, neat.

It's a bit odd in Two Worlds. The main character is the same in I and II, so he has a back story. But we don't know his name... I played two games with him, and I still don't know who he is! I gave him a name, of course.

But Hauk's game is different - he is not doing the main quest as such. He is a mercenary, so he's focusing on side quests and exploration "not by the rules". Note that the game is unmodded, but there are ways to do things that developers didn't block well enough... So this way Hauk is a different person in the same land.

Hauk now has an audience as he continues the story of Reesa.

Holy [censored], look at Riverhold. That's gotta be a fun place to explore, wow. And look at Grand Castle Hall! And the Mages Guild is here too, very cool.

Yeah, and all the shirtless Khajiit too. Keep on reading.

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - A first time for everything

"I think I did this…" Lucanis watched Spite for a while, then stood next to Anders. "I called to you… a few times… Bésame, bésame mucho… Remember that song?" He sang the start of it. "But no… let’s change it… No quiero perderte nunca despues…"

Anders stood transfixed. Spite, the spirit possessing Lucanis, had a new human appearance - that of Anders. Spirits had no control over their appearance in Mundus, that had to come from the person they were possessing - in this case Lucanis. But to change the spirit's appearance was no simple magic. There was no spell or ritual for it - that came directly from the soul. Which meant...

Emotion rose in Anders' heart and overflowed it. He was finding it hard to breathe. Tears were just at the back of his eyes, tears of some new and unknown quality... Anders never felt like that before. He was looking into Lucanis' eyes and drowning in their depths.

"For me?" Lucanis was looking into Anders' eyes in turn. "Am I your first?"

"I... yes..." Anders finally managed to take a breath. "Never before..."

"I know the signs... Mathilda..." Lucanis smiled softly. "I felt like this for her. But I feel no less for you now - may be more. More intense, more mature... And of course, you are my first, too."

"Always women before, eh?" Anders smiled. "Just like me... with one exception. You know."

Anders finally regained some measure of control and realised that his legs felt weak. He took a step towards Lucanis and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Lucanis responded by taking Anders in a tango grip, and just as well, there was no longer any danger of Anders falling.

"Dorian - yes?" Lucanis spoke very softly as there was no need for loud words. "You owe me nothing. Exclusivity is not required..."

"But it is given... the same as you," Anders smiled.

"Ah... no... Mathilda - or rather the demon impersonating her... I wasn't dreaming."

"Mathilda doesn't count, she's from the past. She's a part of you..."

"She was, yes... That demon killed her..." Lucanis sighed. "I think I am still grieving."

"You don't need to make any promises."

"Dorian is very fond of you... He would like to see more of you, I am sure. I am not stopping you... if you feel the same..."

"No, it's... different," Anders smiled. "Before Dorian men were never for pleasure. They were for coin or for pain or both... or just because as young lads my friend and I couldn't get girls to do it with..." He smirked. "But we both hated doing it with each other... So I always hated having sex with men."

"But..."

"You kissed me first," Anders pointed out. "You started it."

"I didn't know what I was doing, I admit," Lucanis laughed. "I still don't understand how it happened... I just... wanted to kiss you... and I did..." He kissed Anders softly. "I never kissed a man before, and never wanted to."

"I never wanted to before either," Anders pressed his forehead against Lucanis. "Perhaps this is what they call a mid-life crisis. We're the right age for it."

"Do you believe in such nonsense?" Lucanis laughed. "I don't. We're just... whatever..."

Their next kiss lasted forever... or at least this was how it felt.

"Dorian tells me you asked him for sex... so I assumed it was because you enjoyed it..." Lucanis returned to the one point that was puzzling him. "But if in fact you didn't normally enjoy it... then... were you trying to change your mind?" He pulled back a little and looked Anders in the eye.

"Dorian is a very gentle person," Anders nodded. "If anyone could change my mind, it would be he. Or you. But I didn't know if you wanted to go as far as that."

"And so... you did it for me..." Lucanis' heart skipped a beat. He usually held his emotions in an iron grip, but now they were getting out of control. His heart felt heavy, it was overflowing.

"Just in case you wanted it... I wasn't going to offer or suggest..."

"And you didn't... I did... Not knowing what I was starting again..." Lucanis' voice sounded hoarse, emotion was cutting his breath.

"Always in control..."

"It's an illusion... I am easily tricked by a clever mage."

"We do what we can to get people into compliance," Anders smiled. "I promised not to do it again."

"I know, I'm just teasing you..."

This time it was Anders who started the next kiss. Lucanis wasn't always leading.

"And now? Where do we go from here?" Lucanis pulled away when his heartbeat started to overwhelm him. "We have a Blight to fight..."

"The Blight can wait..." Anders stroked his hair. "I am not about to ignore this... feeling... I may not live past the Blight... none of us may live past this Blight... So let's forget it for today..."

After another kiss they both decided that the wash room was not the most romantic place in the fortress, and besides they were getting hungry. They unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen hoping to find something to eat. Evka was stirring in a pot over the fire.

"We've got stew," she shot them a glance. "You look like you could eat. You also look very tired, both of you - I've heard of the bad night you've had. Alistair and Avernus are both exhausted..." She stopped talking when she noticed their baffled looks. "You... ah," she smiled. "Hello, love birds, have some stew!" She sat two bowls of stew on the table. "Oh, don't mind me," she grinned. "I welcome another couple around! Antoine and myself being the only couple here... it hasn't always been straightforward," she sighed. "But at least we no longer have to lock the door - everyone learned to knock by now." She watched them sit down at the table and start eating without a word. "But you locked the door... why? I didn't think Fereldens locked their doors..." She looked at Anders.

"Someone stood and watched," Lucanis grimaced.

"Who?!" Evka frowned. "Who needs to be taught manners again?!"

"No one from here and not a Warden," Anders gave her a long look.

"Ah," Evka sighed. "Well, if any one of ours give you grief... you just let me know!" She said forcefully.

"Sounds like you've had trouble with that," Anders touched the topic hoping that Evka would stop talking about them.

"Well, no, not really. I mean, nothing besides the usual Elf and Dwarf jokes," she smirked. "Which is complete nonsense, really... Antoine is an Orlaisian elf... he's half the size of an average human... he's still taller than me, but not like you're taller than me..." She shook her head. "He took those jokes personally though... An elf in love with a dwarf - that's a theoretical impossibility, they said..."

"That's a cruel thing to say," Anders looked up. "And untrue, of course."

"Yeah... he took it badly at first..." She sighed again and turned away to stir the stew for a while.

"How long has it been now? A few years, I reckon..."

"A few years, yes... But I still see it before my eyes as if it is happening all over again... Such things don't leave you... The Blight is... forever etched in your mind..." Evka left the stew pot alone and sat down at the table. "A caravan was attacked by darkspawn, some people killed, others wounded, and not just a little... We were nearby and responded... Cleared the darkspawn, tended to the survivors... Took them to the nearest village... Antoine was so badly hurt, he had to be carried. The village didn't have a healer, so we stayed a while. And then... the usual," she looked at Anders. "Some die, some survive, some..." She looked away.

"...are in so much pain, they want to be dead," Anders finished her sentence. "Yeah... I know the requests."

"I bet you do," Evka smiled. "Jacques didn't make it... Another elf, he asked to join us... he was dying, the blight spread throughout his body, so quickly... I was wondering whether he'd been blighted already before the attack, but I never asked..."

"Jacques' sacrifice will not be forgotten," Anders said solemnly. "Did you make a record?"

"Of course," Evka nodded. "Antoine watched him die... It's never easy to watch, and it's worse when it's your friend..."

"That isn't an easy death."

"No..." Evka sighed and paused, looking at Anders and Lucanis in turn. Lucanis was listening without saying anything. "Antoine's blight was spreading quickly too," she continued. "Too quickly... I wonder if it was some new variant already..." She shook her head. "We did what we could to slow it down, but..."

"...it's pointless..."

"...yeah..."

"Then Antoine asked to join us too?" Anders prompted her to continue.

"He did, and of course we would never refuse," she nodded. "He made it. His blight receded, it was again... remarkable to see... never seen it retreat like that..."

"Antoine has unusually keen senses, it must be because of this strange new blight," Anders suggested.

"Or because he's paying attention," Evka smirked. "He is actually listening to the song... I mean, he doesn't just hear it, he is listening to it... while the rest of us are trying to block it..."

"...unsuccessfully..."

"I blame the song for the lot of it," Evka laughed. "He actually loves me... Me!" She rolled her eyes. "Evka of Dust Town... castless..."

"Don't say that," Lucanis interrupted her softly. "Warden Evka."

"You see past the cast too..." She gave him a long look. "You haven't spent much time in Orzammar, have you..?"

"I have not been allowed in," Lucanis shook his head. "Antivan Crows..."

"Of course," Evka nodded. "Well... Antoine's never been to Orzammar either..."

"So he saw you for who you are," Lucanis continued in a soft voice. "The same as we see you..."

"Antivans..." She laughed. "You have a way with words, you do..." Then, turning to Anders, she added: "He's a handful... the same as Antoine..." She jerked her head at Lucanis. "They worm their way into your heart and never leave..."

...

"Alistair?" Anders pushed the door of Alistair's room. "Are you asleep?"

"I was but you woke me up," Alistair sat up. "Nah... I'm just teasing you," he grinned. "What are you two doing up?" He looked at Anders and Lucanis in turn. "You don't look like you've had enough rest yet."

"We are here checking on you, thanks," Anders shook his head and came closer to have a good look at Alistair's bandages. "You've taken some scrapes."

"Nothing I haven't had before," Alistair dismissed it. "It was... a tough fight," he admitted looking at Lucanis. "But we won. It's done. What happens in the Fade..."

"...stays in the Fade," Anders nodded. "Very well."

Anders was satisfied, leaving Alistair in the care of the other healers. He wasn't the Chief Healer of course, there was no such thing... but he took his duties seriously. Being a healer was a calling, after all.

"Emmrich? Dorian?" Their room was next. "How are things? Sorry I couldn't come check on you sooner..."

"We are fine, really," Emmrich smiled, looking up from his book. "We're not being left out. You've had other fish to fry."

"I... was busy," Anders nodded. Still, he made it a point to check Emmrich's bandages which weren't many, while Emmrich kept his eyes on Lucanis.

"You look much better, Lucanis," he finally said. "You seem at peace with the other spirit inside you."

"We made peace, yes," Lucanis nodded. "And... well... I suppose you can sense it... He changed... for the better, I think," he smiled.

"Spirits do take on change," Emmrich now looked at Anders. "And it isn't always peaceful. I can only imagine the kind of turmoil you must have gone through with Justice..."

"What..?" Anders was taken by surprise. "Oh... Well, he's out." That was all that Anders was going to say on the subject and Emmrich didn't ask any further questions - as curious as he was about it, he also did not want to pry. After all, Emmrich's interest was merely professional, while for Anders it was a deeply personal matter.

Dorian was watching them from his bed, keeping a large book on his lap even when Anders walked over to him.

"I'm fine too," he said cheerfully. "Just minor scrapes." However, Anders saw through it.

"What's under the book?" He looked at Dorian sternly. "No, wait..." He came closer. "Oh no..." Of course, he could sense it.

"I'm afraid so," Dorian smiled with sadness and removed the book. Black veins were visible under the gauze of the bandage across his leg. "I hadn't seen it coming. A tentacle."

"Damn..." Anders quickly removed the bandage to see the full extent of the blight. "It's spreading quickly," he said with worry.

"Actually, no, it's much better now than it was yesterday," Dorian looked up. "Avernus has been treating it... Remarkable, really."

"He didn't tell me..."

"You were busy," Dorian pointed out. "You had quite enough on your plate already... How's that blood magic spell affecting you? Worn off by now, I trust? Any side effects? I know a thing or two about being subjected to such spells..."

"Yes, but... No, I'm the healer here!" Anders shook his head. "I'm the one asking questions," he smiled. "You know it cannot be cured, right? Avernus can delay it, slow it down..."

"But he cannot free me from the grip of the Blight, I know," Dorian became serious. "However, his treatment is effective at keeping it stable. There's no time for melancholy now, or for life-changing decisions like joining the Grey Wardens. I'll be fine for now. We keep fighting, we defeat this Blight, and then we'll see how much pain I'm in... and whether I'm ready to drink anything to stop it, such as Archdemon's blood..."

"Well..." Anders sighed, taking a small step back. "It's..." He shook his head, then leaned over to Dorian and hugged him tightly. "Whatever you need..." He said in his ear. "I am here for you."

"Shhh... I am not dead yet," Dorian waited for the emotion in Anders to ebb before pulling away slightly. "I'm still with you in this fight, like before. Nothing has changed."

Anders started protesting that everything had changed, but Dorian silenced him with a kiss.

"We'll dance another tango at The Gay Vint when this is over," he smiled. "Let's just focus on that."

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Spirits

"Hello, blood mage," someone said behind Anders' back making him spin around. "You do light up in the Fade," the person smirked.

"Elgar'nan," Anders recognised him. "What do you want?"

"Oh my, you are abrupt, Solas didn't lie," Elgar'nan laughed. "Don't be alarmed, I just want to tell you a few things, nothing more... It is in your interest, as well as mine."

"Alright, I'm listening." Anders folded his arms.

"Just like that?" Elgar'nan sounded surprised. "No protests? No tantrums? Disappointing, really."

He waited for Anders to respond but Anders just stood there, saying nothing.

"Well... that is rather boring," Elgar'nan scowled. "To business then. I suppose you overheard me talking to Solas... you and a few other Grey Wardens... I should have realised you'd be able to hear us... oh well. Which is why I am here. As a Grey Warden, your duty is to stand against the Blight, yes? Not against ancient elven gods as such, am I correct? I know I am," he said without waiting for Anders to reply. "And yes, both Solas and I can influence the Blight... to a certain extent. Ghilan'nain created it, and even she could not control it. But she is dead now, thanks to you. That I understand - you stand against the Blight, you kill its creator. I even understand why you had to kill my dragon... it was an Archdemon, of course. But I am not one, I do not lead the Blight."

Elgar'nan paused again, perhaps expecting a reply, and again Anders said nothing.

"So, before you Grey Wardens decide whom to kill next, you should get your facts straight." Elgar'nan looked Anders in the eye. "Solas is not as innocent as he likes to appear. You need to learn about him. Feel free to learn about the rest of us as well, while you are at it. You have someone with you who can talk to spirits - that Nevarran necromancer. Take him to the Arlathan Forest - the Veil is very thin there, you can practically walk in and out of the Fade. Seek out Elven ruins, seek out Tevinter ruins, ask yourself why Tevinter ruins look so Elven... Ask your necromancer - he should find a lot of spirits there willing to tell you what really happened a thousand years ago, and more importantly what had been happening for three hundred years before humans arrived. That's all I ask. Educate yourself before making your next mistake." Elgar'nan smirked. "See you later, blood mage."

He waved and vanished.

...

Anders woke up with a start.

"Another nightmare?" Lucanis opened one eye - it was the middle of the night.

"Not too bad, this one," Anders shot him a glance but still took a few gulps of his Conscription Ale. "Go back to sleep."

"Not without you," Lucanis insisted, pulling Anders back under the covers. "You're letting in cold air. Close your eyes. We sleep now."

...

"Well, I am coming with you, and that's final," Lucanis stood his ground when Anders was trying to talk him out of going to the Arlathan Forest. "I have a feeling Neve will show up and I am not letting her succeed in murdering you," he said firmly. "Besides, Spite can help when we are in the Fade."

"Yes, I think Lucanis should come with us," Emmrich agreed. "I won't be much help in a fight if I am to focus on talking to spirits... Someone will need to watch out for the unexpected."

"I hope you're not planning on going without me," Dorian joined in. "Tevinter ruins! Learn what happened when my ancestors arrived in Thedas! Obviously, I am coming along."

"Oh, why don't we just bring the entire Grey Warden contingent along as well - the more the merrier!" Anders scowled.

"Don't be ridiculous," Dorian sighed. "It's just the four of us. You simply don't go on such trips alone."

...

A few days later Emmrich, Dorian, Anders and Lucanis stood at the edge of the Arlathan Forest in Northern Tevinter. The place did feel strange, even to Lucanis, and he thought that it must be overwhelming to mages. The three mages next to him did look uncomfortable.

"Well, we're here, might as well go in," Dorian said when no one dared to go through the gate into the forest proper.

"It doesn't feel right," Anders said in a hoarse voice.

"A lot of disturbances in the ether," Emmrich agreed. "Spirits walk in that forest, I can sense them from here. The Fade and Mundus co-exist there... It's like Solas' lighthouse, I suppose."

"Ugh..." Lucanis grimaced. "I couldn't wait to get out of there."

"Alright, let's go," Anders took a step forward. "It's like jumping through a waterfall - it will get better once we're in. We'll get used to it."

"Says who?" Dorian shook his head but followed Anders. "There's a reason no one ever comes here..."

"Apart from the Dalish elves, of course," Emmrich reminded him.

"Weirdos," Lucanis swore under his breath.

"Now, now, just because they choose to live in a forest... and wear strange pointy clothes... and meddle in magic that they don't understand... Oh, forget it!" Emmrich gave up.

After a few minutes walking they realised that it was indeed much like jumping through a waterfall - they were getting used to the forest and the strange energy filling it.

"Darkspawn!!!" Anders cried, rushing forward. They turned a corner, and there on the clearing there was a sizable group of new-style darkspawn, complete with squishy heads and tentacles growing out of their bodies...

"Ugh! That smell!" Dorian coughed. "Why does the Blight have to smell so bad?!"

But of course they had no time to ponder that question. They dealt with the darkspawn, carefully avoiding any contact with the tentacles and trying not to get bathed in the puss emitted by the boils.

"This bodes well!" Anders scowled. "Darkspawn already! I bet the whole forest is infested with it!"

"This is a trap," Lucanis said darkly. "Learn about ancient history and die while doing it."

"Let's try not to die," Emmrich laughed softly. "But yes, it definitely looks like a trap... What else would you expect from an ancient elven god stuck in the wrong epoch? We've been naïve."

"It's not that bad," Dorian approached an abandoned elven caravel. "Here, this looks serviceable," he put his hand on the door handle. "We should find a place to spend the night, the sun is about to set..."

Dorian pulled on the door handle and the door opened without a sound.

"What did you do?!!!" Emmrich shouted, pulling out his staff and starting an incantation. "Look what you released!!!"

"What..? I don't see anything..." Dorian was looking around in bewilderment. Anders seemed to sense something too and started summoning a storm. Even Lucanis felt something and readied his sword. But the odd thing was that all three of them were immobile. "Oh... that's not right..." Dorian pulled out his own staff but couldn't decide which spell would help him restore the flow of time.

"Ahhh... we meet again... Dorian," a soft voice sounded all around him, as if the words were carried by the wind.

"We meet again?" Dorian was still perplexed. "We met before? Who are you?"

"A castle filled with gold and silks, we chatted and ate grapes and then you resisted me!" The voice reminded him, sounding sweet and soft at first and finishing on a sharp note.

"Oh, my personal Desire Demon!" Dorian laughed. "And what do you desire from me now?"

"Why, your soul, of course!" The voice breathed. "But fear not - I no longer desire possession!"

"No? Why not?" Dorian was still hoping that the demon would show itself. "Oh... the Blight."

"Ahhh... Such a waste..." The demon breathed. "But your body is blighted, and I am rather particular about that."

"I am rather particular about that myself, but I can't just swap this body for another," Dorian nodded.

"Perhaps I could help with that?" The demon materialised in front of Dorian.

"Imshael," Dorian sighed. "At least this time I know your name."

"Yes, it was awfully uncourteous of me not to introduce myself the first time we met," Imshael smiled. "But then the second time you actually tried to kill me!" He pouted his lips.

"We did kill you," Dorian frowned. "Why are you not dead?"

"Because I am a spirit? A demon, even?" Imshael laughed pleasantly. "We are not that easy to kill. I was defeated and left, that was all."

"So what do we do now? Time needs to resume flowing," Dorian looked at his companions, still immobile.

"Now... I offer you a new body," Imshael smiled. "This one."

"I don't understand," Dorian shook his head.

"You come with me to the Fade and I'll let you have this body as your spirit form," Imshael explained. "It is fully functional, I assure you," he smiled. "I've got others I can use, not to worry."

"Nice try, Imshael," Dorian gave a short laugh. "But would that not require killing my current body, by chance?"

"Your body is already dead, my boy," Imshael said gravely. "It is only a matter of time. You are already in pain, the blight is spreading. You can join Grey Wardens but it won't stop it, plus the rest of your life will be forfeit in their service, provided you survive the Joining, of course. Your freedom will be gone. I offer you a way out."

"In exchange for my soul."

"You won't need it in the Fade. I'll give you an animated spirit for all the fun stuff that you enjoy so much."

"My memories..."

"Will remain with you, your mind also," Imshael kept smiling. "You will even be able to talk to your friends in the Fade when they dream... You can live an endless life of pleasure and comfort here."

"Is that your final offer?" Dorian squinted. "Do you really know me so little? Or have you grown too lazy to look into your victim's minds? No deal, Imshael."

"Oh, but I forget the most important thing: him," Imshael smiled brightly, flicked his wrist and a young man appeared next to him. Dorian paled. "Ah, that's better!" Imshael clapped his hands. "Awww, but now you'll want your old body back... the one that you had when you and this young man were friends... and more..." Another flick of his wrist and Imshael's appearance changed, he now looked like young Dorian. "You can have it all! Remain yourself, but younger. Have your lover back, your amulet too, keep it, enjoy life here in the Fade! You are too pretty to die, Dorian Pavus!"

Dorian took a step towards the young man who looked at him and smiled.

"Hello," he said. "We should have never broken up... it was stupid, but we were young and hot-headed. But now we can start again... I love you still..."

He took a step towards Dorian, wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, and Dorian... All the memories rushed into his mind in a flood... Was that true..? Was he being given a chance to start again..? What was he waiting for?! He'd give anything - anything! - to feel that love again...

"Begone, demon!!!" A loud, harsh and hissing voice cut through the romance. "You cannot have his soul!!!"

"What..?" Dorian broke off the kiss and looked up. Anders stood between him and Imshael, his dagger and arcane sphere drawn, ready for a fight. "Anders..? How is it that you are here..?" Dorian shot a glance to where Anders stood incanting a storm, and yes, Anders still stood there incanting a storm... and he also stood between him and Imshael, poised to cast a spell... "No... not Anders... Spite?" Dorian let go of his young lover who promptly took a step back. "You came for me..?"

"Do not give in!" Spite hissed. "This is a DEMON!!!"

The sight of real Anders frozen in time and Spite as a spirit copy of Anders made another flood of memories rush into Dorian's mind - those of recent events. He was no longer twenty years old. His young lover was no longer young, they never got back together, that love was dead... while Anders, although not his lover any longer... well... never been his lover really... but just a good friend... and yet...

"Let's get him, Anders!" Dorian cried, starting on a spell. "Imshael, begone!!!"

The fight was short. Imshael was not in the mood, it seemed, he flicked his wrist and vanished, taking his young man with him. Spite's lightning bolts were still hitting the ground and Dorian's fire was still burning around them when time resumed its flow.

"You called?" Anders stopped his incantation, turning to Dorian. "Are you alright?" He ran up to him, grabbing his arm. "You look... disturbed. What happened?"

But Dorian was too caught up in the moment to speak. Here was Anders, his friend, who heard his call from the Fade itself... it was worth infinitely more than what Imshael had to offer.

"A demon, I think," Emmrich observed when Dorian did not reply. "Gone now."

"Well done, Spite," Lucanis said softly, folding his spirit wings. He walked around the caravel, examining it inside and out, then nodded with satisfaction. "It's safe to sleep in. There's a fire pit too. I'll make coffee."

The sun was setting, it was high time to settle down for the night.



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

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Mar 12 2025, 04:57 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Rosa sangrenta

"Show me your leg," Anders rolled up his sleeve. "It's been three days."

"My leg is fine," Dorian rolled his eyes. "Avernus' treatment is holding, the blight isn't spreading."

"Show me," Anders wasn't giving up.

"Just do it, he won't leave you alone until you do," Lucanis smirked.

"Oh very well..." Dorian proceeded demonstratively unbuckling his boot.

When the clothing was finally removed, Anders carefully unwrapped the gauze bandage around Dorian's thigh. Black veins were spreading from a black spot underneath it, but the skin had closed over it.

"I'll have to reopen it - this will hurt," he said, looking up. "Brace yourself." And without waiting for Dorian's objections, he slashed the black spot with his dagger letting a few drops of black, viscous blood ooze out. "Here it comes!" He warned, slashing his own wrist and letting a few drops fall on the open wound.

"That... does hurt," Dorian breathed through clenched teeth, a few sweat pearls appearing on his forehead.

"Almost done," Anders looked up quickly, then returned to the wound. A few more drops of his blood mixed with Dorian's blighted blood in it, foaming up. "That's the best I can do," he sighed. "Not as good as Avernus, but..." He started bandaging up the cut. "The pain should subside... eventually..."

...

The following morning the weather was foggy at first, allowing them time for an extended breakfast and coffee, but once the sun cleared the air, it was time to start the exploration of the Arlathan Forest in earnest. They were looking for elven ruins that still bore the scars of the war of a thousand years ago. They spotted some ruins not far from the caravel where they spent the night, and decided to start there.

"I think we can just pick any ruins, really," Emmrich was walking around the remnants of a rotunda. "The whole forest is filled with spirits. Let's see if I can get any of them to speak..."

As Emmrich's spirit lantern illuminated the rotunda, the light seemed to flow into it rather than out of it, with the ambience dimming around them. The sound of a flute sounded from a distance, slowly approaching. Was that the wind? [Listen to the wind.]

...Pensem nas crianças mudas, telepáticas...

...Pensem nas meninas cegas, inexatas...

...Pensem nas mulheres, rotas alteradas...

...Pensem nas feridas como rosas cálidas...

Verses of a song came from no where.

"That's... not Elvish," Emmrich looked around. "Who is here?"

...Mas, oh, não se esqueçam da rosa, da rosa...

The voice seemed to circle around them, repeating the verses over and over.

...A rosa com cirrose, a anti-rosa sangrenta...

"Tevene..." Dorian was listening closely. "Not quite like we speak today, but close..."

...Sem cor, sem perfume, sem rosa, sem nada...

"Are you a human spirit trapped in the Fade?" Emmrich addressed the voice.

There was no answer but the verses of the song.

"That song..." Dorian paled. "It tells us what happened here..."

Think of the mute, telepathic children...
Think of the blind, stumbling girls...
Think of the women, their lives uprooted...
Think of the wounds like melting roses...
But do not forget the rose - the rose -
The rose scarred, a bleeding anti-rose...
Without colour, nor fragrance, nor heart... nothing...

The flute kept playing and the voice kept singing the verses over and over...

"Blood magic," Lucanis finally said, as if to himself.

"And not just any blood magic," Emmrich echoed his words equally softly, no louder than the eerie sound of the song. "They bled some people in order to curse the others..."

"The rose is life, of course," Dorian nodded. "When my father..." He shook his head, emotion cutting off his breath. "That's how he knew how to do it... We did it... here... a thousand years ago..."

"You don't know that," Anders said unexpectedly firmly, putting his arm around Dorian's shoulders. "Who performed that magic here? You assume it were humans, but it could have just as easily been the elves..."

"The song is in Tevene, not Elvish..."

"The song does not specify..."

"I think we've heard enough," Emmrich shot a glance at Dorian who was very pale and  shaking slightly. "No other spirits will talk to us here." He extinguished his lantern and the sunlight filled the rotunda. The wind died down and the song stopped. "Let us return to the caravel. Exploring can wait."

...

"When my father realised that I was not going to hide from being gay, he decided to 'cure' me," Dorian said when they were sitting around the fire with Lucanis' special extra-strong and extra-sweet coffee. "It was a blood magic ritual that he performed... he actually performed it himself... it wasn't some evil blood mage, it was my own father..." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. "He bled two slaves..." He shook his head. "He did something... The room was filled with red mist... My whole body was boiling... my blood was boiling..." He paused again, then looked at Anders. "You know how that feels."

"Neve," Anders nodded. "My mind was in a fog... I was saying things..." He squeezed his head between the palms of his hands. "I wanted to do those things, too! If it hadn't been for Alistair stopping me..."

"You were lucky to have kept some of your reason to go to Alistair in the first place," Emmrich pointed out. "Otherwise..."

"Yeah..." Anders sighed. "Remember Adamant Fortress? Warden-Commander Clarel?" He looked at Dorian who nodded. "I could have sworn they were under some blood magic spell even before they started with their rituals."

"Possible," Dorian agreed. "Warden-Commander Clarel was a very level-headed woman... It was hard to believe she'd just fall for a such an unbelievable fable as the end of all Blights..."

"What did you want to do?" Lucanis interrupted their musings looking at Anders. "What did Neve try to compel you to do?"

"Bleed someone in order to open a portal to the Fade to go fight your demon," Anders smiled. "Oh, she had it all figured out... Of course, I'd do anything... it would only require one life... may be two..."

"Anders, the spell wore off, remember?" It was Dorian's turn to put his arm around Anders' shoulders and shake him slightly. "It wore off. The side effects will linger though..." He looked Anders in the eye. "It is up to you to resist that."

"And you? What side effects..?" Anders started asking, then changed his mind, but Dorian answered anyway.

"No side effects, no effects even... but it replaced my mind with someone else's. I wasn't me anymore. I lost myself." He smirked and let go of Anders. "It persisted for a long time, too - a month may be, or more. They even tried to marry me off and I didn't resist... Imagine that!" He laughed. "But it didn't work, I still didn't fancy women... I fancied no one, in fact... it was all... gone... Do escuro eu via um infinito sem presente, passado ou futuro... An infinity without the present, past or future... It's an old song..." [Listen to the song.]

"That wasn't a common ritual," Emmrich said softly. "That is forbidden art by any standard."

"No doubt!" Dorian looked up. "Firmly forbidden in Tevinter as well! Not easy to get hold of any text that even hints on how to do it... I always thought we didn't have such texts, that the magic was foreign... But now I think I was wrong..."

"You don't know that," Anders objected again. "We don't know who performed such magic here."

"It were the elves," a woman's voice spoke behind them. Neve.

"Well, if that isn't our special guest," Lucanis rose to greet her, his face white as a sheet. "Come, have a coffee with us. And why not. I want to see just how you plan to kill Anders this time."

"Oh, I'm not here for him," she smiled radiantly at Lucanis. "I am here for the secrets of old Tevinter. The proof that we didn't do it. We did not destroy the elves or their city - the elves did it all themselves well before we arrived. We simply picked up the pieces..."

"Get out." Dorian too rose, his eyes blazing.

"Or what, Magister Pavus?" Neve glared at him. "You want the glory for yourself, I see! But I was here first!"

"I recommend you leave, Neve," Emmrich stood between Lucanis and Neve. "Now."

Neve looked at each of the in turn, shrugged and smiled.

"Alright, have it your way - I leave." She turned around and walked a few paces. "Solas will not give you Elgar'nan, Anders. And without Solas you'll never find him. Dorian won't live and your lover..." She shot a glance at Lucanis. "Well... there's always another demon in the Fade..." She waved and walked away.

For a while no one moved or spoke.

"Remind me - why am I not allowed to kill her?" Lucanis glared at everyone, but mostly at Anders.

"You are, but not yet," Anders sighed and sat down. "I don't need Solas to find Elgar'nan since Elgar'nan found me already... but she didn't know that... hmm..."

"She knew plenty other things though," Dorian sat down too. "Such as my blight..."

"No other demon in the Fade will catch me unprepared," Lucanis said firmly. "Mathilda is dead to me."

Emmrich was watching them silently, his coffee drunk. Memories were crowding his mind... memories that normally left him well alone...

"Johanna..?" He whispered, looking into the distance. "Here..? After all these years..?" He got up and walked out of the circle of light of their campfire. The night had already fallen, a few steps further and Emmrich would disappear from view...

...

Dorian was the first to react. A wall of ice in front of Emmrich stopped him from walking into the night and whatever trap was waiting for him there. They ran up to him but he didn't seem to see them... all he saw was Johanna, he kept calling to her, kept trying to reach her... They took him by the arms and led him into the caravel, closing the door to the cabin.

"Blood magic," Dorian hissed. "Neve."

"He is completely zoned out," Anders nodded. "Johanna... he mentioned her once... she was his friend some twenty years ago... more than a friend, I think..."

"Definitely more than a friend," Lucanis nodded. "So what do we do?"

"We can try to give him coffee, if he takes it, it will shorten the time until the spell wears off," Dorian looked up and Lucanis nodded. "Extra-strong, extra-sweet... But other than that, there isn't much we can do..." He paused, checking Emmrich's pulse. "I'll stay with him, you two go make coffee."

...

"She will not have you," Lucanis took the coffee pot off the heat and sat it down to cool off, freeing himself from the need to watch it. "She... I wish she was dead already but you keep stopping me..." He gently pushed Anders onto the grass by the fire, lying down next to him. "Mathilda..."

"...does not matter," Anders interrupted him, rolling over on top.

"Were you really going to do blood magic to fight my demon for me?" Lucanis asked.

"I do blood magic every day," Anders smirked. "I am a blood mage."

"Not of that kind."

"There's just one kind."

"Not true, I kill the other kind."

"I love you..."


~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Mar 14 2025, 01:42 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Secrets of Fen'Harel

"I see you're poking around Arlathan," Solas smiled pleasantly at Anders standing on the other side of the invisible wall in the Fade. "What are you hoping to find, I wonder? Are you looking for proof that humans did not destroy the elves? I could have told you that, had you asked."

"That is ancient history," Anders shook his head. "It explains why those humans won. It does not explain where the Blight came from or how to stop it."

"The Blight... of course," Solas sighed. "You have a singular tunnel vision," he hissed. "Obsessed with the Blight."

"I am a Grey Warden," Anders replied coldly, wondering just why Solas got so worked up. It should have come as no surprise that Grey Wardens put fighting the Blight in the centre of everything they did. "The Blight is on. My primary goal is to defeat it."

"Defeat the Blight... while slaying a few ancient elves in the process," Solas glared. "I know you want me dead. I may be old but not senile."

"Cut through the chase, Solas," Anders looked bored. "Why did you bring me here?"

"To tell you what you are about to discover anyway," Solas folded his arms. "It's better you hear it from me than from... well... whoever you get to speak to you down there," he smiled. "To save Dorian a few grey hairs, too. It must have been painful to hear that song."

"You know that song?" Anders looked up.

"Oh yes... I was there when..." He paused, searching for words. "That song is about the Blight, of course, I do hope you figured that out," he continued firmly. "It isn't about blood magic."

"Go on." Anders betrayed no emotion.

"The Blight started among the elves, Ghilan'nain created it as a means to control the people," Solas said gravely. "It wasn't as infectious then as it is now, it had to be administered to a person specifically... but over time it evolved into a plague terrorising the land... it was never meant to be like that."

"Are you defending Ghilan'nain for creating it?" Anders smirked.

"No, I am not... I am explaining the origins," Solas sighed. "It was wrong to create something to control the people..."

Solas fell silent and paced in front of the invisible wall.

"There's something you need to understand about the Veil," he continued, changing the topic. "How it is set up... how it is powered... why you were able to disrupt my ritual so easily..." He sighed and stopped right in front of Anders, looking straight at him. "Elves carry magic in them... not like humans carry magic... Humans only use the magic that's around them already, respond to it... while elves generate magic... it's in our nature... The Veil was powered by the magic of ancient elves that I locked away in the Fade... Yes, Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan among them. The more of us you kill, the weaker the Veil becomes. Modern elves are just not the same... they cannot power it. When you toppled the pillars that I had set up for that ritual, you disrupted the power network for the Veil, you destroyed the safeguard that would have prevented Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan from escaping while I was transferring them to this new prison... This whole mess is solely your fault!!" He suddenly exploded in an angry outburst. "Look what you've done, Warden! How does this help your cause?! I am the only one of the Evanuris who is actually on your side!! You are an idiot!!!"

He stopped shouting and just stared at Anders, pale with anger.

"Well, I'm glad we've established the facts," Anders remained stone-faced. "Are we done?"

"Done." Solas waved his hand and Anders' vision blurred.

...

"Blöde Klugscheißer!!" Anders woke up. "Tell me what we'll find out anyway..!" He mocked Solas, subsequently exploding with a tirade of Anderfels swear words that surprised even him.

"Another nightmare, was it?" Lucanis looked up from his bedroll, grinning.

"Nightmare! I'll give him a nightmare!!!" Anders jumped up, his tattoos aglow.

"Right now?" Dorian woke up too.

"Right now!"

"Hmm...?" Emmrich stirred as well. "Oh my... Anders, you are glowing."

Somehow Emmrich's sleepy words worked wonders to calm Anders' anger. He sighed and sat down on the floor.

"Solas wanted to tell me what we are about to find in the ruins," he explained. "He didn't get very far..." He shook his head. "He did say that the Veil was powered by a few ancient elves... that they emit magic... something like that... and also that with every ancient elf that we kill, the Veil gets weaker. So what are we supposed to do?!" He glared at his companions, getting angry again. "Just let them take over?! Solas wants to tear down the Veil altogether anyway!"

"Solas put up the Veil before humans arrived here," Emmrich pointed out. He seemed to have recovered from his blood magic spell of the night before. "Yet the song we heard was in Tevene." He shot a glance at Dorian before continuing. "The humans were the victims here... that magic..."

"Solas claimed the song was about the Blight rather than blood magic," Anders looked up. "But I wonder..."

"Whether they are one and the same?" Dorian looked up too.

"The Blight as a form of blood magic..." Anders rubbed the scars on his forearms. "I spread the blight every time I spill my blood..."

"Potentially, yes," Emmrich replied calmly. "Which is why you are careful how you do it."

"Life isn't a safe affair, Anders," Dorian nodded.

"We make do with what we have," Lucanis joined in, a spirit crow landing on his shoulder.

"Are you trying to cheer me up?" Anders looked at his companions in turn. "Well... I think it's working," he grinned. "So... shall we go and see for ourselves what Solas was trying not to tell me?"

...

"I'm telling you, Fen'Harel, this war has to stop!" A tall elf was glaring at young Solas. "We are not freeing our people from slavery, we are slaughtering them!"

"WE are not slaughtering them!" Solas exploded in anger. "THEY are slaughtering them! The cursed Evanuris! WE have to overthrow THEM to stop the slaughter!"

"Three hundred years!" An older looking elf joined in. "Three hundred years of slaughter! Have you gone mad, Fen'Harel? This has to stop!"

"We've come too far, we can't stop now," Solas shook his head. "Another push..."

"Another push will wipe us out!" The tall elf objected. "Look around - this place is an infirmary. Everyone is wounded, dead or dying! We cannot do another push!"

Solas sighed loudly and paced about.

"Well then... We used to be friends..." He looked at the other two elves. "We used to think alike... But now... it's all up to me, is it?"

"We are still friends, Fen'Harel," the tall elf sighed too. "We still want the same..."

"Oh forget it..."

The vision blurred.

"He left us then," the older elf addressed Emmrich. "You want to know what happened, human? How far in the future are you? You woke me from my slumber... But that was when Fen'Harel set off on his own."

"A thousand years have passed," Emmrich replied. "Fen'Harel is still on his own... He is planning something that would destroy our world and we seek to understand what drives him."

"Elven pride is what drives him," the old elf replied. "A thousand years... I can only imagine what the world has become... No, don't tell me, I'll go back to sleep, it's better not knowing... You're a human, not an elf... No elf came to speak to us in all this time... Are there no elves in your world any longer?"

"There are elves," Emmrich nodded. "But they are... changed. And... humans won that war..."

"The Veil..." The old elf sighed. "We felt it when Fen'Harel put it up. It was draining us of our magic, it was draining away our very souls... The elves have changed, you say? Why am I not surprised..." He sighed again and turned to leave. "I return to my slumber... but there are others like me in the ruins of our city... you will hear the same from them..."

The spirit dissolved and Emmrich extinguished his lantern.

"Not everyone agreed with Solas, it seems," Dorian was still looking in the direction of the vision. "He took it upon himself to fix the world... and miscalculated."

"We should have brought an elf with us," Anders said suddenly. "It must be distressing for the spirits to see only humans."

"The two Dalish elves in our party..." Emmrich started saying, but Anders shook his head.

"No, neither Davrin nor Bellara would do," he looked up. "But Antoine... may be I should have asked Antoine..."

"I don't think it matters much," Dorian started walking towards the exit of the ruined temple they were in. "Perhaps it's better the spirits don't see what the elves have become... If none of the Dalish ever spoke to the spirits here... hmm... I wonder what that means..."

"Let's try another ruin," Emmrich agreed.

The stories they heard from the other spirits were much the same. Elven rebellion had been exhausted after three hundred years of civil war, and the city of Arlathan already lay in ruin. Some elves were blighted by Ghilan'nain in order to make them into compliant slaves, and when the rebels tried to "liberate" them, they resisted... And those few that joined the rebels, brought the blight with them, unwittingly infecting others. The Blight was evolving already then.

When the humans arrived, they brought blood magic of their own. They sought to take over the elven lands and met little opposition. Oh, the battles were fierce, but the elves were few and they were weakened by the war and by the presence of the Veil. Had the humans arrived three hundred years earlier, they would have been wiped out in a trice... but as things stood, the humans were winning, enslaving what elves were still alive.

It was then that the Evanuris turned to drastic measures in an attempt to reverse the course of the war. Ghilan'nain altered the Blight... it was now a weapon, a plague, it was designed to consume the enemy, without and within... It did require some sacrifices, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and besides, the elves in Mundus were of no importance, the Veil had cut them off from their roots, their memories, their very souls... or so she thought.

The Blight was unleashed onto the humans, with elves as the first darkspawn... The humans responded with blood magic, eventually wiping out the Blight, or so they believed. Remaining darkspawn retreated into the earth through dwarven Deep Roads, and the cycle of the Blight had begun.

...

"The world that the elves had known before the Veil was put up, before their civil war - that world is gone forever," Anders observed after yet another conversation with spirits. "If the Veil is torn down now..."

"...that would destroy us all," Dorian nodded.

"Is that what Solas is trying to achieve?" Lucanis rubbed his forehead. "I admit, I am confused... He wants to destroy all elves along with humans... because they'll die too..."

"They are not the right elves," Emmrich nodded. "There must be a few more ancient ones hidden away in the Fade, or possibly slumbering somewhere... He probably plans to bring them back, to rebuild the elven race from scratch..."

"Another one of Fen'Harel's grand plans then," Lucanis nodded. "So, what do we do?"

"We are not done here yet," Anders looked up. "We learned what happened a thousand years ago but not how to save our world today. Solas isn't innocent, true, and Solas is a threat to us - but we knew this already." He sighed and paced about. "How do we ensure that the Veil stays put and remains strong? How do we drive the Blight underground again? The spirits can't answer this, and yet I feel..."

"...that the answer is here somewhere..." Emmrich said softly, finishing Anders' sentence. "Yes, I feel that too... There is another presence..."

The wind rose around them, making dry leaves fly through the air in that forest of eternal autumn. A cloud passed in front of the sun, softening its rays. A shadow fell over the ancient elven ruins of the city of Arlathan. A dragon...

"Look - a dragon!" Lucanis noticed it first. "Just there - hovering over that tower in the distance."

"Perhaps it's got a nest on top of that hill," Anders suggested, following it with his gaze.

"Just the place for it - no one comes here to bother it," Dorian agreed.

"Dragons are immortal beings that walk both in the Fade and in Mundus," Emmrich observed. "It would feel at home in a place where the Fade and Mundus are one. A place like the Arlathan Forest."

The dragon landed on top of the ruined tower and folded its wings. There was something deeply familiar about that particular dragon... It turned its head to look at the newcomers to its forest... Three mages and an assassin... A Grey Warden among them... yet two carry the Blight... one talks to spirits, another carries one... All four know death up close... yes... it was the right group...

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Like father, like son

"No, mum, I'm going," Kieran shook his head at Morrigan. "Alistair left me here in charge of the younger recruits, but now the fight is on and I am a Grey Warden. I am leading the recruits to the Anderfels, as per Alistair's orders."

"I've never known Alistair to issue orders..." Morrigan smirked, then added with a sigh: "I suppose you're right, young man. Well... be careful." She hugged him in a motherly fashion and he allowed her to do that. "I'll see you there... one way or the other."

"Mum..." Kieran grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the doorway. "Is grandma with you?" He asked in a whisper.

"A piece of her..." Morrigan nodded. "Just a piece... Her memories, but also a little of her spirit."

"Are you possessed?" Kieran was trying to understand it.

"No... not as such," Morrigan shook her head. "Flemeth wasn't possessed either... or may be she was, but her spirit wasn't suppressed... Hmm... I am really not sure," Morrigan admitted. "But Mythal was strong then, she had enough energy to build a body of her own after Flemeth died. And of course in the Fade she could rest..."

"She was a dragon!" Kieran said with pride.

"Yes... that dragon is still out there somewhere... The dragon that lent Mythal its body... It must be carrying another piece of her, you know."

"And then Fen'Harel killed her!" Kieran looked angry.

"Fen'Harel absorbed the energy from Mythal's body, yes," Morrigan frowned. "He probably believes that it killed her... but no. She is weak again, but her will has not faltered. I shall carry her where she needs to be..."

...

The dragon atop a ruined tower in the Arlathan Forest was watching the four adventurers in its domain. Three mages and an assassin. One was a Grey Warden but two carried the Blight; one could talk to spirits but another carried a spirit inside him, yet two were abominations. One blood mage but three had blood magic course through their veins... It was the right group. The dragon took off, gliding through the air to where they stood and landed softly before them.

"Young man," the dragon addressed Anders, "there is something you need to know about Fen'Harel..."

There was definitely something deeply familiar about that dragon. How many times had Anders heard that voice? He lost count. When Morrigan stayed at the Soldier's Peak with Wolf, when they traveled together to help her reach the most scattered of the Dalish elves, and even back in Kirkwall when Wolf insisted that Hawke should deliver the witch's amulet to the Dalish as she had requested...

"Mythal?" Anders took a step forward.

"Just a piece of her, just a small piece..." The dragon said softly. "But yes, I carry a piece of her soul... Mythal is not dead..."

"Then Morrigan carries another piece," Anders smiled.

"Mythal took precautions..." The dragon lowered its head. "Mythal... loved Fen'Harel but also knew his nature... loved him despite of that... you don't love because of something but always despite of something... you know how it is, yes..."

"Mythal... Remarkable..." Emmrich was transfixed, a faint glow emanating from his whole being.

"You are almost there, necromancer," the dragon turned to him. "Your spirit will soon transform... have faith." Then turning back to Anders, the dragon continued. "When Fen'Harel absorbed Mythal's life force, he made himself vulnerable to her magic... he doesn't know it, of course... When you face him, I shall be there... I can reach him where you cannot... behind the invisible wall of his prison... The only question that remains, is what is it that you really wish to achieve?"

The dragon brought its head quite low and looked Anders in the eye.

"First and foremost?" Anders stood as if mesmerised under the dragon's gaze. "Maintain the Veil. Defeat the Blight."

"Save the world," Dorian said softly. "Nothing more."

"Tell him that," the dragon said with a nod, rose and flew away.

...

"We are going to the Arlathan Forest," Kieran addressed half a dozen recruits under his command.

"But Alistair told us to go to the Anderfels..." One of the recruits objected. "Isn't the Arlathan Forest dangerous?"

"It is," Kieran nodded. "Which is why we are needed there." He shook his head at the looks of incomprehension on everyone's faces. "Alistair said to go where we are needed, which will later be the Anderfels, but right now we have to take a detour by the Arlathan Forest." He paused and sighed. "I can sense it... that's where we have to be... I can't explain that right now..."

"Is that your Warden sense?" One of the recruits squinted.

"No... that's... That's why Alistair left me behind," Kieran decided to leave it at that. "With you. You are no Wardens yet, you cannot sense darkspawn, but trust me when I say that darkspawn is not thick on the ground in the Arlathan Forest. Keep your eyes peeled and your swords at the ready and you'll be fine, there are no darkspawn hordes there..."

"You are making no sense, Kieran," a tall recruit in impeccable armour ran his fingers along the edge of his ruby-encrusted sword. "If there's no darkspawn there, then why the detour? I shall not fight some forest pixies, there's no glory in that..."

"Alright!" Kieran turned to them all. "Anyone who is here for the glory - leave now! Anyone who's worried about mud stains on their pristine robes - go home! Anyone who cannot manage two weeks without a bath - out! The rest - follow me. I know what I am doing."

He turned his back to them and started walking. Ten minutes later three warriors, an archer and a mage were seen marching towards the Arlathan Forest, not an encrusted sword in sight.

...

"Where are we going exactly?" The archer asked when they set up camp for the night. "You don't have to tell us why if that's a secret... but..."

"We trust you and all," a girl with an assortment of knives and daggers about her person joined in. "And we're with you... but a little more detail would help..."

"How do you even know where we're needed?" A swordsman looked up.

"If it isn't the Warden's sense, then it's from the Fade," the mage nodded. "You're no mage... and yet... you must have something from your mother..."

"The Witch of the Wilds!" The girl exclaimed with pathos. "Come on, Kieran, you can tell us!"

"It is a sense I have from my father," he gave in. "You'll understand when we get there. I know exactly where we're going."

"Your father?" The archer sounded surprised.

"Warden-Commander Asgarsen," the swordsman rubbed his chin. "Who vanished."

"He did not vanish, he left," the mage corrected him. "Sailed to another kingdom across the ocean... Really... don't you read the papers?"

"He's not going to tell us anything else," the archer sighed. "I've heard stories... but no... we'll see it when we see it, I guess..."

Kieran was not about to say anything more, indeed. Even his mother did not know the full extent of his senses. She suspected... she must have suspected something... He was conceived under a special ritual as a vessel for an ancient god's soul, an Archdemon's soul, and he carried that soul until Mythal freed him from it at the time of the Inquisition, the time when he finally met his father, a Grey Warden. The ancient soul departed, still free from the Blight's taint, and only then could he meet his father as there was no longer any danger of corrupting the ancient soul. But did his own soul not carry any marks? It was born of a union of a Grey Warden and a powerful sorceress under a special ritual, and besides... besides, the Grey Warden was also Dragonborn. What better vessel for another piece of Mythal's soul than dragon kin..?

Kieran was leading his remaining recruits to the Arlathan Forest because it was time to secure the Veil.

...

"We should make camp right here and Anders should go to sleep so that he could get to Solas," Lucanis spoke when the dragon left. "You can find him, right?"

"I can find him but..."

"No, it's much simpler than that," Emmrich interrupted them. "I can sense it... I am almost ready... may be this will be it..."

"What are you talking about?" Anders squinted.

"I can sense where we can pass through the Veil and enter the Fade, I can sense the structure of the Fade, I can find the way... almost ready... My spirit is almost ready to leave my body behind... I am a necromancer... my goal is to transgress death..."

"You want to walk among the dead?" Lucanis sounded surprised.

"I want to walk among spirits, yes... and among men... I shall become a true undead..." He stopped, looking into the distance. "There is an opening there - between those trees... Come..."

...

"Through here," Kieran was leading his recruits along a narrow forest path. "That waterfall - we jump."

No one was objecting any longer. He led them through stranger places than that, always avoiding unnecessary fighting, always landing on his feet. The mage in their party sensed the Fade flow around them, they were weaving in and out of it, and Kieran always knew just where to go...

...

"Hello, Solas, we have to talk," Anders stood in front of the invisible wall of Solas' prison.

"You!" Solas seemed surprised. "How..? Oh... the necromancer... I should have known..." He frowned. "Very well, what is it that you want? Speak! Now that you brought a whole party to watch..."

"You have to stabilise the Veil," Anders said firmly. "You built it, so you know how to do it."

"I might know a trick or two, but I am stuck here behind this wall - because of you!" He threw his hands in the air. "I can do nothing from here."

"Not true."

"What..?"

"Not true. You have plenty of magic to anchor the Veil." Anders stood his ground. He wasn't sure what he was saying exactly, but somehow he knew what to say, as if someone was whispering the words into his ear...

"Anchor the Veil..?" Solas stood aghast. "Who told you that..? No... it couldn't be... but she's dead..."

"Anchor the Veil," Anders repeated. "Do it, Fen'Harel."

"Don't call me that... you cannot know..."

"...what it means to you?" A familiar voice sounded behind Solas. "Does it still mean anything to you to hear me call you that, ma' lath Fen'Harel?"

"No... it's a trick... it must be a trick..." Solas looked distraught. "That is a cruel trick, blood mage!" He shouted at Anders and slammed his staff into the ground calling up demons all around them.

"To arms..!!!"

No one needed telling it twice. The fight was fierce but short, with three mages and an assassin dispatching Solas' demons without too much trouble. But just as Anders was hoping to resume their conversation, Solas slammed his staff into the ground again, calling up even more and stronger demons...

This second wave was tougher than the first, and yet our party defeated them all, and Solas slammed his staff again... It was turning into a long and tedious dance...

...

"We have to hurry!" Kieran was urging his companions. "This way! Quick! There! Demons!! Attack!!!!"

...

"Reinforcements..?" Anders thought he saw someone attack a demon from behind. But how? Where from? Who were they? But ultimately none of it mattered. The fight was on, and losing it was not an option.

...

Solas was getting tired. He wasn't fighting anyone, true, but calling up demons drained his magicka which he could not regenerate quickly enough. "Blasted humans, they know how to fight!" He swore under his breath. "Just like back then... they did not come unprepared... unlike us... But no, this is no army... one blood mage with a few friends... this should not be an issue for Fen'Harel!" Saying his own name in that context gave him a second wind and more demons followed. No, Fen'Harel was not done yet!

"Still fighting, Fen'Harel?" The same familiar voice from before covered the sounds of magical explosions, clanking of steel and human cries and moans. "You never give up, ma' lath Fen'Harel... Except that one time..."

"What..?!" Solas spun around but saw nothing. "Blasted blood mage!!! You cannot touch my mind!!!"

"It isn't the blood mage, Fen'Harel," the voice objected. "It is I..."

A dragon landed before him, behind the invisible wall separating him from the battle.

"Mythal..?" He froze.

"Just a piece of her, just a small piece..." The dragon breathed.

"You did not trust me," Solas' voice fell.

"I loved you but I knew your nature," the dragon replied. "Was I wrong?"

"But..."

"You killed me, ma' lath, you had to have the power, you could not stop..." The dragon sighed. "Perhaps I am wrong to love you still... but the heart wants what the heart wants, as humans like to say... Would you like to kill me again, Fen'Harel? Only now I shall fight back... and you are not immortal..."

The dragon raised itself opening its wings and all could see its magnificence. Fire was gathering in its mouth - it was no empty threat.

"I shall not fight you, Mythal," Solas dropped his staff on the ground. "You were right about me all along... ma' lath... dare I call you that still?"

"That Mythal is dead, Fen'Harel," the dragon closed its wings again. "There is no one left to love. I have but a piece of her soul..."

"Anchor the Veil, Fen'Harel," Kieran stood in front of the invisible wall. "This world must survive."

"You..?" Solas spun around.

"I have a piece of her soul, just a small piece..." Kieran smiled. He breathed at the wall before him and a layer of dew appeared on it, then dripped down and melted away. Kieran stepped through it and stood next to the dragon. "And I am dragon kin."

"Like father, like son," Solas smirked. "I always knew Wolf could do more than just spill his blood..."

"Anchor the Veil, Fen'Harel," Kieran repeated.

Solas looked at the dragon, then at Kieran, then turned to look at everyone on the other side of the invisible wall... He picked up his staff and cast a spell. His form turned to stone, and a myriad of shimmering threads extended from it into the ether.

"It's done," Kieran walked back through the wall which remained solid for everyone else except the dragon. "We go to the Anderfels," he told Anders waving at his recruits. "Mum sends her regards... We'll see you there, Anders. Take your time..."

He nodded and walked away, with his recruits following.

"He will go far, this one," Dorian said softly.

"Like father, like son," Anders agreed.

[macole]

you did the dialog so well, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

[Lena Wolf]

Thanks, Macole! I realised I rather like writing dialogue.

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - For as long as I live

"Another one down," Anders turned to his companions when they navigated their way out of the Fade in the Arlathan Forest. "And we didn't get stuck in there," he gestured at the opening they just came out of.

"That was a tough one," Dorian agreed.

"I need coffee," Lucanis muttered as if to himself.

"We all do, Luca," Anders came close. "Spite included."

Although they were a stretch away from the caravel where they had spent previous nights, they decided to return there as the place became familiar and they'd really had enough surprises for one day.

...

"What will happen to you now?" Lucanis asked Emmrich when they were finally sitting by the fire with food and coffee. "You don't look undead."

"Not yet, no," Emmrich smiled. "I'll stay as I am until we're done saving the world," he grinned. "Then I shall return to Nevarra and undergo a ritual to become undead."

"Ugh, that sounds unpleasant," Lucanis shivered.

"Well... I shall die... and I won't die..." Emmrich stared into the distance, as if watching such a ritual performed. "I have always feared death... I still fear death... When my parents died... I..." He shook his head.

"You want to cheat death," Lucanis said softly. "I understand."

"Yes, I suppose I do..." Emmrich nodded. "You have seen other undead in the Necropolis in Nevarra when you came to me there," he looked at Dorian and Anders. "Some look like ghosts, others like skeletons... Those are just material forms meant to give them bodies of some sort. Some undead look just like living people - with illusion magic."

"What do you want to be?" Dorian smiled.

"I haven't decided yet," Emmrich shrugged. "Something that can wear clothes and may be a mask... so as not to have to use illusion all the time... something like that..."

"You want to look alive," Lucanis nodded. "Makes sense."

"Does it?"

"Yes. If you look dead, you haven't really cheated death, have you?"

The conversation moved to lighter matters, then died down. Light topics didn't fit with what they'd witnessed that day.

"Do you think that there is enough of Mythal left to still love Fen'Harel?" Anders asked his companions. "Now that she is literally in pieces..."

"If each piece of her loves him, then yes, I suppose..." Dorian shrugged.

"That depends on how much she loved him to begin with," Lucanis offered.

"If it permeated her entire soul," Emmrich nodded. "Not just sat pushed into a corner, then squeezed out and replaced by... oh never mind..."

"I am sorry, Emmrich, it must have been a torture," Lucanis said softly.

"What..?" Emmrich looked up. "How did you...?"

"I guessed," Lucanis smiled. "Neve's blood magic spell... You were seeing someone... She brought up memories... emotions... And I... know how that feels..."

"Yes... Johanna," Emmrich inclined his head. "We... were close... I loved her... but she, she loved her studies more... Always so competitive... She wanted the same as what I am aiming for - to become truly undead, but she was going too fast, not taking the time to prepare her soul. Letting death into your soul can kill the life in it, and with her I think it did... I lost her even though she's still out there somewhere..."

"She left you?" Dorian looked puzzled.

"She left everyone," Emmrich nodded. "She is... half-undead... of sorts... A powerful sorceress, she will have preserved her body or got herself a new one, and she has a soul or a spirit if you prefer, but it is crooked, corrupt... Yet she is not a demon and cannot enter the Fade... She's here in Mundus somewhere..."

"That... is sad," Dorian sighed.

"It is..." Emmrich agreed. "And I thought I had overcome it... But all it took was one blood magic spell to stir up the memories and bring it all back... Can you believe it - I love her still?"

"I can believe it," Dorian and Lucanis nodded, each engrossed in their own memories.

"We need more coffee," Lucanis got up and started making it.

"Dorian, I am so sorry for what you went through with blood magic," Anders suddenly said, hugging Dorian around the shoulders. "That must have been terrible."

"It was... but it was a long time ago," Dorian sounded surprised, but hugged Anders too. "What brought that up?"

"Don't ever stop being gay," Anders said in his ear.

"I wasn't going to, honest," Dorian laughed softly. "Why?"

"Just - don't." Anders kissed him and released the embrace.

"Well, you can tell him," Lucanis came back with the coffee.

"Tell me what?"

"Umm..." Anders couldn't find the words.

"Shall I tell him?" Lucanis sat next to Anders, wrapping his arm around his waist. Anders nodded. "Alright. Without you there would be no us, Dorian," he said. "And I can never feel jealousy towards you. Never. You are the one man..." He paused looking at Anders who was still struggling with finding the words. "He gives all of himself... He doesn't hold back... You'll see..."

"Oh, I already know," Dorian said softly. "But he belongs to you."

"You didn't have to buy me from the guards," Anders looked at Dorian. "You could have paid my fine or arranged my release through the Magisterium... I would have been grateful... They would not have skinned me quite so soon..."

"Those methods take time," Dorian was watching him. "They would not have killed you so quickly, true... but beatings, lashing, rape... all that was to come... I could not let it happen. The moment I paid for you, you came under the protection of my name, and I am yet to see a city guard who goes against House Pavus!" He smirked. "In Minrathous, it counts."

"You did yourself a lot of damage with that purchase," Anders objected.

"My reputation? Yes... well... I rather enjoy being the pariah..."

"Show me your leg," Anders suddenly sounded decisive, rolling up his sleeve. "We've fought a lot of demons today."

"Stop fussing about it!" Dorian rolled his eyes but started removing his boot.

...

With another blood treatment administered and another pot of coffee drunk, it was time for bed.

"How come your evening coffee doesn't keep us awake all night?" Emmrich asked Lucanis. "While your morning coffee really chases away drowsiness?"

"It's not the same coffee," Lucanis shrugged. "We like to sleep at night in Antiva."

"Who would have thought!" Dorian smirked. "I wish it could knock me out," he sighed. "These blood treatments hurt more than the blight itself..."

"Ah..." Anders stopped, watching him. "Well... Let me see..." He slit his wrist and started an incantation.

"What are you doing?" Dorian squinted. "Hey, I am a mage myself... No! Stop that!"

But Anders wasn't listening. The spell was cast and black veins started coming forth under his skin, receding after a while. He closed his eyes but the pain he was in, was obvious.

"Go to sleep," he spoke with a hoarse voice. "Your leg should feel better by the morning."

"All of himself, like I said," Lucanis said in Dorian's ear. "He won't take no for an answer, it's useless, I tried. Like a dog with a bone..." He shot a glance at Anders who curled up on a bedroll. "I'll take care of him. You... accept his gift... he doesn't do it for just anyone..."

"He took my pain onto himself," Dorian's voice trembled. "That is... some very rare magic..."

"He loves you," Lucanis said simply. "You and me and Wolf... he is a healer and helps others of course, but it's not the same... The difference between giving away and taking onto yourself is immense."

"I first met him during the time of the Inquisition when he came to Skyhold with the other Ferelden Wardens. He was often drunk and slept with every female in the castle, I am sure," Dorian smirked. "If there was a brawl, he was in it... not unlike the other Wardens... but as soon as darkspawn showed up, they were all sober and in perfect fighting form, like by magic..."

"The taint?"

"It must be," Dorian nodded. "Grey Warden taint is not just the blight..."

"Grey Warden discipline goes a long way too," Lucanis smiled, watching Anders sit up, take a gulp of his Conscription Ale, then go back to sleep. "An Archdemon is singing him a lullaby, as he put it... it must be terrifying," he shivered.

"Will you be leaving The Crows?" Dorian suddenly asked. "Like Zevran?"

"Leaving... I cannot leave," Lucanis shook his head. "I was born to The Crows, there is no quitting. But I shall be taking a long vacation," he grinned. "They won't kill me for that..."

"What if you join Grey Wardens?"

"They'll kill me then, or at least they'll try."

"So that's why Zevran..."

"That's why, yes," Lucanis nodded. "Even though he was written off at first, but that can be reversed... and of course it was reversed for him... Zevran still belongs to the Antivan Crows."

"It took me a long time to realise what Wolf saw in Anders," Dorian continued his train of thought. "This rowdy mage who was constantly getting into trouble... I got to know Wolf a bit by then... more than a bit... if it wasn't for him, I would have never forgiven my father..." He shook his head. "Wolf was older... he'd seen things, he lived through things I could not even imagine... The Fifth Blight, for one... his life before that... There was more to him than most people suspected. And Anders... I saw them together one day, Wolf slitting his wrist and making Anders cast the spell to take his life force..." He shook his head. "You know the type..."

"Let me guess - after Anders collapsed from too much healing?"

Dorian nodded. "They've done it before, that transfer of life... They were bonded..."

"It sounds like..."

"Yes... Wolf saw himself in Anders... His inner self..."

"I now understand the depth of feeling... That separation... it must be so acute."

"Wolf left but Anders remained," Dorian looked Lucanis in the eye. "Not many know this, even among the Wardens... Anders spent many months with me after that, hiding from himself. He begged me to keep an eye on him, said he trusted me to save him from himself... Well, I didn't do anything really, just let him deal with his pain... He learned Tevene during that time, he speaks it perfectly... He'll learn Antivan before you realise it, you'll see," he smiled.

"You were there for him, that was all that he needed," Lucanis nodded.

"I never..." Dorian shook his head. "We were never intimate until he insisted just recently... I would never..."

"I know," Lucanis interrupted him. "Even when you two were pretending to be. 'You could lie naked next to him and still feel your privacy respected,' he said about you. But now... there is no longer any need to hold back." Lucanis paused, looking Dorian in the eye. "I won't lose him to you, that's impossible. You were a part of him already before we met."

"And you accepted him that way."

"You are his Mathilda."

"The past never leaves us, does it?" Dorian smirked.

"Some wounds never really heal. Some scars can always reopen."

They shot a glance at Emmrich who appeared to be asleep on his bedroll.

"I take a step back when you're around," Dorian said quietly. "But when you cannot be with him..."

"I'll know you'll be keeping him out of trouble," Lucanis smiled.

"For as long as I live."

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Eu sou feliz

"I wish that coffee could knock me out," Dorian lay down on his bedroll. "These blood treatments hurt more than the blight itself."

"Ah..." Anders stopped. "Let me see..." He slit his wrist and cast a spell, refusing to interrupt the incantation despite Dorian's protests - being a mage himself, Dorian realised what Anders was doing. Black veins came forth under Anders' skin, then retreated after a while. He closed his eyes steeling himself, but the pain he was in, was obvious. "Go to sleep," he said in a hoarse voice. "Your leg should feel better by the morning."

Anders curled up on his bedroll, making an effort not to scream. His blood was boiling. The same spell that raised the taint in darkspawn, could also be used to calm it at the cost of the caster's life force, and that was the spell he cast for Dorian, reducing Dorian's pain but making his own blood boil. "That's how darkspawn must feel when we cast it on them," he reflected, almost with pity.

Anders was not new to many forms of pain. "I'm not a virgin," he smirked when people asked him how he could stand it. "You get used to it." The truth was of course that he didn't get used to it but instead found ways to block it or override it with something else, usually an even greater pain... How was that helpful? Sometimes he would lose consciousness, other times he would have visions, but more often than not, an Archdemon would sing him a lullaby, quite literally. He became accustomed to allowing the horrors of the Blight block out his pain, both physical and mental. Giving himself over to the Blight, letting the taint take control of his being, allowing his mind to swim in the sea of blood, hearing the song... All of that was horrifying, and yet at the same time it was the Blight that healed his slit wrists, that restored his depleted magicka, it was the Blight that kept him alive. "Blight is life." The voice of Ishala rang in his ears. "If I were to die, what would happen to these griffons?" And so she had embraced the Blight to lessen their pain, in all perpetuity.

Anders did not want to go too far. He did not allow the Blight to consume his mind. He was a blood mage, which was bad enough, but he was still in control. Between Avernus' taint mixture and his understanding of blood magic, he was able to walk the tightrope and use his taint without permitting it to use him. "You like to walk the edge," Lucanis said soon after they met. Yes, the edge was where the action was. The edge was where he could make a difference.

"He's not used to this pain yet, to the song on the back of his mind," Anders was lying with his eyes almost closed, watching Dorian through the eyelashes. "But the spell worked," he nodded to himself. "He's talking to Lucanis, he is feeling better... The blood treatments slow down the blight but make his blood boil for a time... I wish it could be avoided but that's what keeps him alive..."

He sat up and took a gulp of his Conscription Ale, then turned over and closed his eyes. "Got to try to sleep," he told himself. "The pain should subside by the morning..."

...

Dorian and Lucanis finished their conversation, it was high time to get some sleep. Dorian stretched out on his bedroll realising that he did not have to wait till morning for his pain to subside - his leg already felt much better and the song on the back of his mind went silent for the first time since he contracted the blight. "He was talking about himself," he realised, shooting a glance at Anders. "My pain is already gone... it is his pain that should subside by the morning." Dorian watched Lucanis move his bedroll next to Anders, then lie down, pulling Anders close. Dorian closed his eyes and fell asleep, free of Archdemon's lullabies.

...

"Sleep now, I've got you," Lucanis whispered in Anders' ear. "Release that ball of pain."

Anders didn't answer, perhaps he was already asleep.

"Let it out."

A barely audible moan was Lucanis' answer.

"There..." he turned Anders over to face him. "I won't hurt you like you asked... there are other ways to deal with pain," he said, kissing him softly. "Release your hold on the pain, I am here... Let it loose and sleep."

Anders moaned again, but without engaging his voice, it sounded more like a hissing groan. He could not speak, the pain seemed to stream through his entire being, now that Lucanis snapped the knot holding it together. Lucanis held him close. Anders felt the pain radiate from somewhere under his liver, slicing through it like with a sharp knife. It reached his heart and cut through it too, and Anders twitched and tensed, his knees pulling up in a reflex.

"Let it loose, don't pull it back in," Lucanis wrapped himself around Anders. "I have it."

The pain shot through Anders' fingertips making his whole body convulse, but Lucanis only tightened his embrace, trying to include as much of Anders in it as he could. Another groan, another convulsion, and the source of pain under Anders' liver started losing its power, a supernova dissolving into a cloud of overheated debris propelled through his veins like liquid razor blades. He moaned again.

"Don't hold it in," Lucanis encouraged him, kissing the tears away. "I won't let go."

Slowly, the pain was subsiding. Anders' heart was still skipping a beat every time a stray blade passed through it, but the stream of razors was thinning, and his fingertips stopped tingling, regaining feeling. As his muscles relaxed, the sharpness of sensation gave way to a steady ache, bothersome but not acute. He could sleep through this... this pain would subside by the morning.

As the dawn rose over the Arlathan Forest, Anders opened his eyes and smiled. "You haven't slept all night," he said, meeting Lucanis' gaze. "You can sleep now, I've got it. Eu sou feliz," he added in Tevene, and Lucanis knew what he meant.

[Listen to the song]

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E411 - The Messiah

"So, if the Blight now exists on its own, then who or what is driving it?" Anders was thinking aloud as he and his companions were walking back from the Arlathan Forest towards the Anderfels. "We've secured the Veil, now all that is left is to defeat the Blight... But without an Archdemon to lead it, I am at a loss what to do."

"What does your Warden sense tell you?" Emmrich looked at him sideways. "Isn't it how it normally works?"

"It is, and it tells me nothing..." Anders sighed. "Oh, there are plenty of nightmares... Nightmares of Archdemons of old... THEY are talking to me... to all of us, I suppose... But how can they if they are all dead?"

"So instead of a single Archdemon singing you lullabies, you now have a choir, is that it?" Lucanis shivered. "Charming."

"Now you understand the need for the extra strong Conscription Ale," Anders smirked. "We always hear the Blight, and the difference is that when it is suppressed, we just hear some vague murmurs, some noise, sometimes a song, but it is in the background... Distracting and all, but markedly different from the times when the Blight marches onto Mundus. Then the Archdemon leading it takes control of the choir and the song becomes much more persistent, it gets louder and harder to block. Sometimes he holds speeches... and we are invited," Anders shuddered. "But now it's different... ever since we killed Ghilan'nain, the Blight lost its leader, but instead of retreating, it is still marching forth... The song has not weakened, but there's no one holding speeches... It's just bizarre..."

"Does the Blight even need a leader?" Dorian wondered aloud.

"Yes, there was always a leader," Anders nodded. "That's why darkspawn seek out old gods under the earth in the first place. To make one of them into a leader. The vast horde of darkspawn is mindless and needs someone or something to get them organised."

"Which is what makes it less dangerous when there is no Archdemon," Lucanis nodded. "I don't think we'll figure it out between us though. You'll need to talk to the other Wardens."

"You're probably right," Anders agreed. "Let's hope Morrigan is there too... I have a feeling Mythal has more wisdom to impart to us."

"I wonder what Neve will do now, that Solas is... umm... incapacitated?" Emmrich smirked. "Not dead exactly, but still out of the game..."

"Neve's objectives in terms of becoming the most important citizen of Tevinter in modern history can still be fulfilled," Dorian pointed out. "She can enter the Fade through the Arlathan Forest, she can collect enough proof that we didn't destroy the elves. For all the good it will do," he scowled. "So I expect that's what she'll be doing. And she'll bring it to the Magisterium while we're still here, that is before I return to Minrathous with the same information."

"Then we should go back," Lucanis stopped. "We no longer need her, correct? I have a contract to fulfill."

"That would mean that I have to deliver that information to the Magisterium instead of her," Dorian grimaced. "I am not looking forward to the prospect."

"Why?" Anders stopped too. "You wanted to find out..."

"I wanted to find out and I did," Dorian nodded. "I wanted to know, and I do. I never wanted to become the Messiah who ushers Tevinter into a new era of self-importance," he frowned. "It does not suit me," he smiled.

"You will become the Archon," Anders understood him.

"They will make me into an Archon, yes," Dorian scoffed. "And they will completely erase my identity by doing so. A Magister from House Pavus becomes the Archon, and House Pavus finally loses its black sheep. Ours is one of the oldest Houses in Tevinter, and the Archon cannot be gay." He turned away from them and took a step to the side.

"And that's not all of it," Anders said softly. "Everything that Dorian has been trying to achieve over the past ten years, every change in the the law, every shift in attitudes at the Magisterium - all of that will be lost. And I am talking about the abolition of slavery rather than the recognition of gay marriage."

"They would probably even recognise gay marriage just so they could forget about abolishing slavery," Dorian said angrily. "There are far more slaves in Tevinter than there are gay men!"

"So you want me keep away from Neve for now," Lucanis said softly and nodded. "Let her become the Messiah."

"Yes."

"Will she not be made into an Archon though?" Emmrich asked. "That would be counter-productive."

"House Gallus isn't important enough, she would be jumping several stages," Dorian shook his head. "There is even no such thing as House Gallus... No, Neve would simply get a seat at the Magisterium, nothing more. That's quite a huge honour for someone of... well... her lineage," he said with a blush. "Just listen to me... Talking like some..." He shook his head. "But that's how it works. It would take another heroic feat to move up, and even then..."

"Another heroic feat such as defeating the Blight, perhaps?" Anders smirked. "Oh I think Neve is aiming high."

"Your life is still in danger," Lucanis looked squarely at him.

...

Neve was doing exactly what Dorian thought she'd be doing - collecting evidence that the first humans who arrived in Thedas did not destroy the elves. They built the Tevinter Imperium on the old elven lands, true, they enslaved a lot of elves, true, but they could only do it because the elves had weakened themselves through their civil war well before humans arrived. The humans were innocent! Their blood magic did not poison the land, it was ancient elven magic that did it! The elves created the Blight! The elves were the first darkspawn! The elves... and so on, and so forth. In short, elves deserved exactly what they got in the hands of humans - slavery and humiliation, or, as Neve preferred to call it, "guidance" and "common law". As proof Neve collected many remnants of old records and missives, many samples of objects contaminated by blood magic with an elven signature, she made many notes and put many marks on the map to show just where more proof could be found. Neve was ready to become the Messiah.

Upon returning to Minrathous, she deposited all her evidence at the Magisterial Archives and soon was welcomed as the newest member, now to be addressed as Magister Gallus. To Neve's disappointment however, this honour did not come adorned in gold and jewels. Magisters did not get paid, it was a public service and a civic duty, not a profession or a job, she was told. Ah. That was an annoying setback, but still not a disaster - Neve wasn't done yet. She returned to the Anderfels hoping that new leads would have appeared while she was away.

...

When Anders and his companions finally reached the old Grey Warden head quarters in the Anderfels, they found the fortress under attack by darkspawn. The battle wasn't massive and the darkspawn was cleared without any casualties among the Wardens, but the very fact of such an attack was worrying.

"They've been getting bolder and bolder," Evka was saying, turning over one or the other darkspawn corpse. "Just look at them - they are more like the ones we're used to, normal heads, no boils, no tentacles, they don't explode in a fountain of puss... and yet they are not like the ones we're used to. These ones aren't dumb."

"They did seem to have a purpose in their attack, but I don't see an Emissary," Anders nodded. "Who was leading them?"

"That's what we don't understand," Antoine said wistfully. "They have a purpose and a strategy where none should be possible..."

"We'll need to send out scouts," Anders decided. "May be there's something in the Deep Roads... A broodmother or..."

"Another Architect?" Alistair joined them. "Like the one you encountered shortly after the Fifth Blight?"

"What do you dream of?" Anders turned to him. "What do the old Wardens dream of?"

"Nothing definite," Alistair shook his head. "The same as you... nothing but foreboding..."

They all shook their heads at such a dilemma and returned to the fortress.

...

"What are you trying to achieve, Neve?" Varric refilled his mug of beer. "The Wardens have left us preferring to follow Alistair of Ferelden," he spit on the floor. "Even Davrin is hesitating, and if it wasn't for Bellara, he'd be long gone too. What is your plan now?"

"Stay put and listen," Neve smiled. "Anders will do something stupid again."

"Like stabilising the Veil with Solas' life force?" Varric smirked. "Blondie hit your right under the belt there..." He shook his head. "I almost like him now."

"What's that supposed to mean, Varric?" Neve squinted. "You think you're the brain behind this whole operation, so let's hear it! What is YOUR plan?"

"We have to drive back the Blight," Varric put down his mug, turning serious. "If we make you into the Archon of Tevinter as a result, so for the better, but that isn't my concern. The Blight has to stop."

"Agreed. But how do you propose to do it without Grey Wardens?"

"It can be done," Varric sat back in his chair. "They think they are the only ones who can handle the Blight, but all it takes really is a strong sword arm, some snappy magic and Bianca," he caressed his crossbow. "There is no longer an Archdemon to defeat, this Blight is not like the others. Anyone can drive it back."

"How?" Neve sat up. "Speak up, Varric! Now is not the time for suspense!"

"Now, that is a very good line! I should put it in one of my books!" Varric grinned. "It's simple, really. There is no Archdemon, no leader, the horde is strong but trust me when I tell you that it isn't nearly as strong as it was in the Fifth Blight when it did have a leader. The horde is disoriented because we've had two Archdemons and a goddess trying to lead it in the last few months, darkspawn no longer knows whom to follow. Present them with a new leader, and they will unite behind that entity. Defeat that leader, and they will retreat into the earth like with every other Blight."

"We have to make it worse before we can defeat it," Neve's face lit up.

"Let someone else take the heat of the newly formed horde," Varric smiled.

"Someone whose duty it is to fight darkspawn..."

"Let them be the heroes..."

"Genius..."

They drank a toast.

"Davrin should rejoin the Wardens then," Neve looked up. "He'll be a mole otherwise."

"You mean his Warden sense?" Varric looked around, then smiled, spotting Davrin in the far corner of the hall kissing Bellara behind a column. "I think he found someone more exciting to sing songs to him!" He laughed. "Bellara is a Dalish elf, a very talented elf with a deep connection to the Fade, like few elves have. While Davrin is only a part elf... I suppose you figured that out?" Varric shot a glance at Neve noticing her surprise. "Just look at him... It's been a thousand years since humans landed here, Neve! Of course there are halflings everywhere. Nothing wrong with that as such, my point being that his elven connection to the Fade is weaker than average, he doesn't actually know what makes an elf an elf, apart from the ears... And Bellara is teaching him that... in her own unique way..." Varric paused, watching a barely perceptible cloud of shimmering mist envelop Davrin and Bellara.

"And you think that the Fade dulls his Warden sense?" Neve was watching them too.

"Undoubtedly."

"Hmm... May be." Neve wasn't convinced. "And may be it doesn't matter," she dismissed it. "Who will lead the Blight? I assume you've already chosen."

"Oh yes," Varric smiled. "But it is... delicate. The Emissary will want payment, too - red lyrium."

"The Emissary? A darkspawn Emissary?" Neve looked alarmed. "Red lyrium? Have you gone mad?!"

"Not really, no," Varric smirked. "He didn't want any crystals, just someone seeded with it. Someone who would not die in the first day or two. Someone who had magic in them. He is quite intelligent, you know, and has no intention of dying. His 'defeat' will be teleportation, I am not entirely sure how, but I am sure he will pose no threat to us for a very long time. He's got other plans."

"This is madness, Varric," Neve was sitting on the edge of her chair. "How long is that very long time?"

"Longer than our lifetimes," he smiled. "A hundred years or more, what do I know?" He shrugged.

"He wants to be a real Archdemon," Neve realised.

"Yes."

"So... whom have you seeded?" Neve's voice sounded hoarse as she took another sip of her red wine.

"Well... no one... yet," Varric smiled. "Cheer up, Neve! Payment is only due at the very end, and he's already rallying up the horde against the old head quarters fortress. Sit back and relax! After all, you are the Tevinter Messiah!"


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

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Mar 21 2025, 06:16 PM

[Renee]

Wow, Lena gets busted for skooma! In fact this entire segment

They saw their horses quietly grazing near Fort Seaplace, but before they could mount, the Legion guard stopped Lena again.

"You lawbreaker! There's a bounty on you - again!"

"What?!" - Lena couldn't believe it. "But we've literally just returned from the Castle..."

"And stopped along the way to pick up some illicit skooma, have you?" - the guard looked at her sternly. "Now we have to go back to the Castle so that you could pay your new fine. And I'll have to search you again, of course" - he grinned.

"Oh..."

There was nothing else for it.

...

A couple of hours later Lena and Hauk were once again approaching Fort Seaplace where their horses were still grazing peacefully on the lush grass.

It's a typical repeat of what happens when we get caught, and Pay the Fine. So they're walking by the same horses grazing on grass. Then two hours later they're walking by horses grazing on grass...

Elephants are hostile in this land? Bummer. 🐘

Looks like the water keeper has a dinosaur in that one picture. Yeah it's nice to finally find some place to rest. I get the feeling that you're doing a first-run playthrough of Elsweyr during these chapters, eh?

oops -- http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341358



This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 23 2025, 06:59 AM

[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.