#because varric is like. protecting her and teaching her how to navigate the city

[flashhwing]

i hate when characters are written out of character in fics unless it's people making anders and fenris be nice to merrill. i think that's good mischaracterization actually

[kirkwall-group-therapy]

City of Blood, ch3

[Mature content warning, Act 1: cursing, adult topics, violence]

Chapter Three: Blondie

 The next to join their party was yet another mage, much to Fenris’ brooding dismay. But he wasn’t just any mage. Anders, the hunk of Darktown. The healer with a heart of gold, and a bad case of spirit possession. Blondie made all the girls swoon. He was a bit rash, but even Sunshine found herself quickly forgetting about Lowtown Ivan.

You would think that his extraordinary healing abilities are what led Hawke to Anders, particularly given the dangerous line of work she was in, but that wasn’t the case. The Deep Roads expedition needed to find a way in, a good entrance to be precise. One that wasn’t already looted, caved in, or overflowing with Darkspawn, and the only group who would know the Deep Roads well enough in that area would be the Grey Wardens. Varric heard rumors about a Grey Warden who was hiding out in Darktown. Hawke and the group went to meet him, to see what he would be willing to trade for any information, or better yet, a map.

The clinic was located in the farthest corner of Darktown, which you could only find after navigating a series of tunnels, turns, switch backs, and stairs. It was easy to miss the right turn, or not see one entirely due to the dim lighting in Darktown. They had to ask a number of Darktown residents, many who refused to help, before they finally found it. A bright lantern lit up the front entrance. Hawke cautiously opened the door and quietly stepped inside. The clinic was surprisingly crowded, and nearly all of the occupants were Fereldan refugees. A few volunteer nurses scurried about, helping patients and directing others. But there was no sign of the man in charge, and certainly nothing that would indicate that a Grey Warden was hiding there.

“I sense magic,” Bethany whispered. “One of these people must be a mage healer.”

Finally they saw a man in the back. Tall, broad shoulder, blonde hair that just a few inches shorter than his shoulder. He was definitely a mage; he was bent over a small child waving his hands over the boy’s body. Visible, soft green glowing magic wrapped itself around the boy and flooded his body. The blonde man manipulated the current of the flowing magic, pushing it, pulling it, clutching it. Searching for something. He found it, and grabbed onto it, and tugged at it with all his might. Slowly but surely he dislodged it from the boy’s body. The boy gasped for air, coughed, and turned onto his side, color returning to his face. The blonde man exhaled loudly and nearly collapsed. Another volunteer braced him as the healer worked to catch his breath.

The group approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt his work. But the man sensed them, and smelled the thick scent of blood and death that permeated them - most notably Hawke. The scent that only soldiers, mercenaries, and professional killers had. He moved surprisingly quickly, like lighting he whisked a staff, hidden from view, into the air, and gracefully pivoted on his heels to face them.

“I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation,” he said to them. “Why do you threaten it?”

“Easy,” Hawke said, slowly putting her hands in the air. “We mean you no harm.”

“I thought Wardens were dedicated to the blight and dying in the Deep Roads,” Bethany said. “Not healing refugees.”

“The Wardens? They sent you, didn’t they? I’m not going back,” Anders said. “Blighters made me get rid of my cat.”

“Wait, that’s the reason you’re not wanting going back to the Wardens? Not the taint or the constant violence and death?” Varric laughed.

“Ser Pounce-a-lot didn’t like the Deep Roads,” Anders joked.

“His name was Ser Pounce-a-lot?” Bethany giggled.

“Er, I assure you, we’re not here on behalf of the Wardens. We are planning an expedition to the Deep Roads, and are hoping you might have some information or better yet, a map, of the routes in this area. Any information you have could help save many lives,” Hawke said.

“I will die a happy man if I never think about the blighted Deep Roads again,” he said. “You can’t imagine what I’ve gone through to get here.”

“I’m not asking you to come with us,” Hawke said. “But surely you have some information that would be useful to us? We’ll pay you well for your information.”

“I could smell death on you as soon as you drew near,” Anders said. “Based on that, plus your armor and stature, am I correct in assuming that you’re mercenaries or something similar? And at least somewhat successful, since you’re not dead yet?”

“Ah, yes, something like that,” Hawke said, a little confused as why he wanted to know. And also surprised to hear the bit about her smelling like death. That was unsettling for sure.

“But we’re good mercenaries,” Bethany said.  “We help people.” What a beautifully innocent flower she was.

“I … have need of your skill,” Anders said, “more than your coin. A favor for a favor? Does that sound like a fair trade? You help me, I’ll help you?”

“Ah, perhaps. Depending on what your favor is,” Hawke said. “I don’t do anything involving children or animals,” she joked.

“I have a map of the Deep Roads of this area, as you’ve requested. In return, I need your help to save a close friend. I came to Kirkwall to aid him myself. He’s a mage, a prisoner in the wretched Gallows. But the templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them, and the map is yours,” he said.

“You want me to help break a mage out of the circle??” Hawke asked, shocked. Honestly, the price she thought was too steep and not a fair trade for the map.

“You want to make your friend an apostate?” Bethany asked.

“That’s such a weighted term, but yes,” Anders replied. “Andraste said magic should serve man, not rule him. But I’ve yet to find a mage who wants to rule anything. It goes against no will of the Maker for mages to live as free as other men.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” Hawke said. “But … breaking a mage out of the circle is no small ask. And we can’t afford any undue attention from the templars ourselves.”

“I can understand that,” Anders said. “But you don’t know what this circle is like. It’s worse than other mage towers. Karl and I have been exchanging letters, until the letters just stopped. His last letter said that Knight Commander Meredith was turning the circle into a prison. Mages are locked in their cells, refused appearances at court, made tranquil for the slightest of crimes.”

“But it’s not legal to make a mage tranquil if they’ve passed their harrowing,” Hawke said.

“You are surprisingly knowledgeable about mages,” Anders said.

“Our father was one,” Bethany said. “As … as am I,” she bravely stated.

“I see. You’re correct though,” Anders said. “And yet they’ve made over a dozen mages tranquil just this year. The more people you talk to, the worse the picture becomes. I have no interest in engaging with the templars either, and I don’t expect there to be any violent confrontation, but neither can I rule it out.”

“Varric, can I talk to you for a moment?” Hawke asked. The two stepped aside to have a private word.

“How badly do we need his maps? Is there no other way?” Hawke asked.

“I’m not too keen on this either,” Varric said. “But all of our other leads have turned up shit so far. Honestly, I think the entire expedition is a bust without his maps.”

“Fuck,” Hawke said. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” Bethany excused herself from speaking with Anders, and joined Hawke and Varric.

“Charlie, I know it’s risky. And it makes me nervous, but, I’d like to help him if we can,” Bethany said.

“We don’t really have a choice it seems,” Hawke said. “But I’m really not a fan of this. And you’re certainly not coming with us when we do this.”

“Sister, please. I want to help,” Bethany said.

“Out of the question. I will not blatantly dangle you in front of templars,” Hawke said.

“I feel for your friend, I really do,” Hawke said walking back over to Anders.

“So you won’t help me then?” He asked.

“Unfortunately I need your map, rather desperately it seems. So I find myself without any other option but to help you. But if my sister ends up in danger because of you, if this brings the templars to our front door step, you had better run,” Hawke warned.

“Understandable,” Anders said.

“What is the plan then?” Hawke asked, and sighed heavily.

“I sent Karl a message to meet me at the Chantry tonight. Maker willing, he’ll be there, alone. But if there are templars with him, I swear I’ll free him from them. Whatever the cost,” Anders said.

“Sounds like this will be fun,” Varric said sarcastically.

“Meet me outside the chantry tonight, just after dusk,” Anders said. “Should anything go wrong, don’t worry about me. Protect yourselves and we’ll rendezvous back here later.”

 Nothing ever goes as planned. That’s a written-in-stone law of the universe. How badly things deviate from the plan though, well, Hawke never seemed to have much luck in that area. They had entered the Chantry together that night, and found Karl without problem or reason for concern. And that’s as far as the things went according to the plan.

“Hello, Anders,” Karl said. He was facing the wall and his voice was flat, mono tone, completely devoid of emotion, of any feeling at all. “I knew you would come.”

“Karl, what’s wrong? Why are you talking like that?” Anders asked, fearing the worst.

“I was too rebellious, like you. The templars knew I had to be … made an example of,” Karl said, turning around to reveal the tranquil mark on his forehead.

“No.” Anders grieved.

“How else will mages ever master themselves? You’ll understand, Anders,” Karl continued, “As soon as the templars teach you to control yourself.”

It was a good thing that Hawke had refused to bring Bethany along - a small group of templars stepped out of the shadows as Karl finished speaking.

“This is the apostate,” Karl indicated toward Anders, still in that chilling, unfeeling tone.

“No!” Anders screamed. Anders fell to the floor and his body twitched. The was a sudden pulse of energy and his body glowed with blue fire, and his voice deepened and echoed. “You will never take another mage as you took him!” Anders bellowed.

The poor templars were no match for Hawke. More accurately, they were no match for Anders and all his wrath. They made short work of the few of templars, blood absolutely everywhere. All over the Chantry walls and tapestries, and the worn wooden pews.

“A-Anders, what did you do?” Karl asked, looking around confused. “It’s like … you brought a piece of the fade into this world. I had already forgotten what that feels like.”

“What did you do?” Hawke asked. “Not the fade part - the angry glowing bit.”

“It’s like a gateway to the fade is inside you, glowing like a beacon,” Karl said.

“It’s a … unique circumstance,” Anders said. “But that’s not important right now. Karl, what happened? How did they get you?”

“The templars here are far more vigilant than in Fereldan. They found a letter I was writing to you. You cannot imagine it Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I’ll never be whole again. Please, kill me before I forget again! I don’t know how you brought it back, but it’s fading,” Karl said.

“Karl, no,” Anders pleaded.

“Isn’t there any cure? Surely there has to be a way to reverse it?” Hawke asked. She had never heard of one, and the circles certainly would never approve, but they were already working outside the circle. Surely someone had a way to reverse it?

“Can you cure a beheading?” Anders asked angrily. “The dreams of tranquil mages are severed - forever.”

“Please Anders,” Karl begged.

“My sister says being a tranquil is a fate worse than death,” Hawke said softly.

“Indeed,” Anders agreed. Anders pulled out a small dagger. He looked into Karl’s face, the fade quickly receding, and Anders plunged the dagger into his heart. “Goodbye,” he mourned.

Karl crumpled to the floor.

“We should probably get out of here, before more templars arrive,” Varric suggested. They didn’t waste any time leaving the Chantry before anyone could discover who had murdered their templars.

Once back at the clinic, Anders pulled out a bitch of parchment. “The map is yours,” Anders said. Sorrow consumed his voice, his eyes, his whole body. He handed them over gently. “I … I need to be alone for a while. But thank you. You don’t know how much it means to me, that you were willing to help.”

Varric had his men begin reviewing them immediately. It wouldn’t be long before they identified one of the entrances on the map as the one to use. But they still had yet to collect the money they needed to convince Bartrand.

~

Hawke and Bethany returned to Anders clinic a few days later. Bethany thought it would be good if they checked up on him, after losing such a close friend.

“Hawke, Bethany,” Anders said a bit surprised when they stepped into the clinic.

“We wanted to come see how you were doing,” Hawke said. “I’m so sorry that things turned out like they did. I know he meant a lot to you.”

“It still … doesn’t seem real,” Anders said. “And I keep finding myself forgetting. I’ll think about how it’s strange that I still haven’t received a letter, or I’ll have a stray thought about something I want to include in a letter to him.”

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Bethany asked.

“You’re too kind,” Anders said. “Especially … especially after what you saw.”

“You mean when you glowed?” Hawke said. She had actually forgotten all about it.

“I mentioned that I have unique circumstances,” Anders said. “They are more unique than you may realize. I … this is hard to explain. When I was in Amaranthine, when I was with the Wardens, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the fade. We became friends, and he recognized the injustices that mages in Thedas face every day.”

“A spirit of Justice?” Bethany asked. “Father said that such spirits were incredibly rare.”

“How are they different from demons?” Hawke asked.

“Just as demons prey on the deadly sins of mankind, there are benevolent spirits who embody our virtues; spirits of compassion, fortitude … justice. They are the Maker’s first children, and they have all but given up on us,” Anders explained.

“What does this have to do with your eyes glowing?” Hawke asked, feeling more and more nervous about where this conversation was going.

“To live outside the fade, the spirit of Justice needed … a host,” Anders said. “I … I offered to help him. We were going to work together, to bring justice to every mage ever ripped away from their families to be sent to the circle.”

“Are you saying … what I think you’re saying?” Hawke asked, now very weary of the man in front of her.

“But he … I … I guess I had too much anger. Once he was inside me, he … changed,” Anders said.

“You’re … possessed,” Bethany gasped. Hawke instinctively took a half step back.

“So this spirit is living inside you still?” Hawke asked.

“It’s … not like that. He’s gone now. He … we merged. Not even the greatest scholar could tell you where I end and where he begins,” Anders said.

“I’ve … I’ve never heard of anything like it,” Bethany said. “Normally when possessed, the demon completely overpowers and consumes the host,” she said turning to Hawke.

“That may be, but … whatever I saw back at the chantry, looked more like a spirit of wrath and fury, than some form of benevolent spirit,” Hawke said.

“Justice is righteous, hard, unmoving. But with my anger, he changed. He is no longer my friend, the spirit of justice. Now he is a force of vengeance, and he has no grasp of mercy,” Anders said.

“That sounds like a rather considerable, and dangerous problem,” Hawke said. “Is there no way to separate him from you?”

“I don’t think so. The only way a spirit has ever been separated from a living host is by its death,” Anders lamented. “This curse is of my own making. All I can do now is hope to control it.”

“Can you bring the spirit out at will?” Bethany asked.

“No. He comes only when I become consumed by my anger, and I lose power over both. It’s a madness, a frenzy. I only find out later, what I might have done,” he explained.

“That does explain a lot,” Hawke said. “Particularly why you hide here in Darktown, and why you work so hard to care for others.”

“I’m so sorry Anders,” Bethany said.

“I had not thought to ever find someone who would look past my … condition,” Anders said.

“Look past … I wouldn’t state it quite like that. You must understand, you said yourself that the spirit is dangerous. That makes me very uneasy. But it’s obvious that you have some control over it. A great deal of control it would seem, that you’re not rampaging in the streets daily. But you also have a very big heart and have only sought to help others,” Hawke replied.

“Your honesty is refreshing, and still far more than I could have hoped for,” Anders said. “I truly have no desire to ever enter the Deep Roads again, but I’m here if you ever need me.”

“You don’t have to join us for the actual expedition,” Hawke said. “But we also need to secure enough gold to pay for the expedition. Which usually means taking a number of dangerous jobs, which means injuries. We could certainly use a healer.”

“I know a little healing magic,” Bethany said. “But it’s nothing like your healing abilities.”

“I could teach you,” Anders said. “And I could always use more help here in the clinic.”

“I would really like that,” Bethany said, and she blushed slightly.

Hawke invited Anders to their weekly meetings, and Anders discussed times that he could spend training Bethany.

Between all the healing they needed, working together on jobs, and Sunshine's little crush, they saw a bit of the Darktown healer.

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This fanfic is based on the amazing Dragon Age games, specifically focusing on the DA2 game. Thank you EA/BIOWARE for such amazing games & characters!

I’m new to tumblr, so please bear with me as I figure out the best formatting.