There and Back Again Ch. 065-066

Anders gestured, and then climbed up to sit cross-legged on the bed as I sank into the only chair. "I really don't. He's a templar, too?"

"Not really. He was an initiate, but was recruited before he took his vows. Honestly, he'd have been a terrible templar. Not that he isn't talented, but he doesn't have the mindset."

"That's sort of reassuring, I suppose. So how did you come to be a templar? I wouldn't have thought they'd teach those sorts of skills in a world without magic."

"Apparently it's all about inherent resistance to magic. I have lots of that. No training, though, so I'm terrible at most of the common skills. I couldn't smite to save my life."

"Which implies there are uncommon skills?"

"I can drain your mana. Like, entirely. More like lock it off where you can't use it, I suppose. And when I do, I can put up shields on my friends. There's more, but I don't know how to control it, so I don't do that much. It comes in handy when we run into darkspawn mages, though."

His eyes were big. "That's...horrifying. I knew templars were bad, but..."

"Hey! It's not like I chose it. And I'd never do it to someone who wasn't, you know, trying to kill me."

"I'll keep that in mind," he drawled, wryly, and I giggled.

"Besides, most of the templars aren't strong enough to do what I can. Alistair and perhaps a handful of others across all of Thedas. I think you're safe."

"You've been teaching them?" His voice was somewhat high pitched, his expression panicked, and I sighed.

"It was the cost of getting you out. But like I said, most aren't capable. Even Greagoir couldn't manage the shield."

"I'll bet he was thrilled about that."

"Yeah, not so much." We shared a grin, and then fell silent for a few minutes. I studied his face, so different when clean, but still far too thin. I wondered if we should fatten him up prior to his Joining. He finally interrupted my musing, clearing his throat, and I realised I'd been staring.

I flushed. "Sorry. It's sort of surreal, meeting people for the first time when you already know them. You'd think I'd be used to it by now."

"So you know things about me?"

"Not a lot of detail, no. Bits and pieces." Did Anders ever talk in much detail about his time at the Circle? Not for the first time, I cursed myself for not playing DA2 more often. "Let me think. I know your real name isn't Anders, but I don't know what your real one is. I know you were born in the Anderfels, and that your father was glad when the templars came for you. I have no idea how you ended up in Ferelden. There was a stray cat at the tower that you used to take care of. Mr. Wiggums, or something silly like that. I know you had a reputation, for, uh, let's call it...open-mindedness, and that Karl was your first, uh, companion. And that you don't believe in love, because if you care too much for someone, it gives the templars something to control you with, something to take away.

"I know you've escaped six times, but that each time they found you. You have never hurt anyone while escaping. Irving felt you could be trusted, at least not to turn to blood magic or make a deal with a demon. And you hate cramped, dark spaces. But I think that's all."

"That's rather a lot, actually. I was going to escape again?"

"Did you ever doubt it?" He laughed, and I grinned. "Six escape attempts? One day you're going to have to tell me how you got out."

"Not a chance - you'll turn around and tell that busybody Greagoir."

"Not bloody likely." I scowled. "If I see that bastard again, I'll probably push him into the lake in full armour."

"You weren't so reluctant to share things with him before." His expression was hesitant; not angry, but not trusting. I sighed. I could see it from his perspective, even if I knew I held no special regard for templars.

"I did the minimum required to get his agreement to let you out, Anders. Truly. And part of that agreement was that he would get you out last night, and you would be taken care of. He told us you were fine, healthy. Wynne went back to the tower for the express purpose of seeing you last night and explaining what was happening, and then he reneged. I owe him nothing. And for what he's done to you, I hope he burns in hell. I actually thought he just might be one of the good ones, for a while. I'm sorry to have been wrong."

"There are no good ones."

"There are, actually. Cullen, once he's recovered, for one, and a few others I can think of. And many of those I wouldn't count as 'good' I don't really blame - they've been lied to and frightened by the Chantry and brainwashed for so long, they don't know any better. But Greagoir should have."

"So what's going to happen to me now?"

"Well, we're heading to Redcliffe, where you will become a Grey Warden, along with at least one other. Then all of us will travel to Orzammar to get the dwarves to pledge aid against the Blight. But, of course, they won't be able to help without sending us into the Deep Roads. Once that's done, it's back to Redcliffe, call a Landsmeet, and then defeat the Blight. My being here has changed a lot of things, so I'm not taking anything for granted though."

"What have you changed?"

"I can't tell you all of it. Like I've said to everyone here, I know secrets about almost everyone, and it's not my place to spill those. But how much do you know about what's been happening with the Blight?"

"Only a little. One of my jailors was a little nicer than the rest. He'd give me bigger rations, more water, that sort of thing. He told me a bit about Ostagar, and about Uldred's rebellion, but not a lot."

I explained Loghain's betrayal at Ostagar, and the subsequent events. "One major change is that Tomas wasn't supposed to survive. Apparently I saved him with one of those shield things, and then sort of...exploded some darkspawn. So more of the army survived as well, though that's only made the civil war worse. Loghain has declared himself regent, and the Bannorn aren't willing to just accept that. We've run into a couple of skirmishes between Gwaren forces and the 'rebels'. Another big change is that, because I know what's happening, lots of things have taken less time than they would otherwise. It was supposed to take over a year to rally the allies, but I think we'll be able to do that in half the time. Give or take."

"Is that good?"

"Well, it's less time for the Blight to spread, and for darkspawn numbers to grow, but whether we can force the final battle to happen earlier is anyone's guess. At least it might buy us more time to prepare. And maybe find some more Grey Warden recruits? I'm not sure."

He thought about that for a bit before changing the subject. "You said you know me after the Blight is ended. The way you've been talking around the subject, I'm guessing some of those secrets you don't want to spill involve me."

"They do. But I don't...think I will tell you. Some of the things that could have happened will hopefully be very different, now, and I plan to make sure that's the case for other things in future too. Telling you all of the things that could have happened, could have gone wrong...it won't help anyone. And it will only hurt you."

He examined my face for a moment. "I do something really horrifically bad, don't I?" he whispered.

I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Not on purpose. And I will not allow it to happen."

"I don't make a deal with a demon or something stupid, do I?" I shook my head. Vengeance isn't a demon. Not exactly... "Thank the Maker for small mercies. Does everyone else know what I will do?"

"No. No one. All they know about you is that you're a healer, that you're well-meaning, and that it would be a really big waste to leave you stuck in the dungeon of the tower for another six months, only to recruit you in the end anyway."

"Thanks, I think."

Chapter Sixty-Six: Healing Process

I headed back out after a few more minutes of idle chatter, happy with how things were going with Anders. He wasn't quite as angry or bitter as he was in DA2, but he was different than he seemed in Awakenings, too, even though he'd just come from the dungeon. Not that I expected him to suddenly love templars and be a devout Andrastian, but it was nice that he wasn't too bitter.

When I thought about it, I was lucky with all of my companions. Shale had considerably mellowed towards me, Morrigan kept most of the nasty comments to herself, Aedan wasn't bitter at being conscripted, Alistair wasn't resentful about having lost Duncan or having to take the throne...the level of bitterness was much, much better than it could have been. I was relieved.

I went looking for Wynne, finding her reading in a cabin of her own; when I knocked, she looked up expectantly and smiled.

"What can I do for you, dear?"

I was embarrassed, but clearly something had to be done about my...girl issues. "Um, I need help with something." I was blushing, and she gave me a curious look.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just embarrassed. My, uh, monthly came. Last night."

"And that has you embarrassed because...?"

"Well, mine have always been sort of...enthusiastic. I didn't know it was coming and it soaked through my clothes and blankets. Alistair saw. It was mortifying."

"I'm surprised this hasn't come up before now, then."

"My body at home was on medication that prevented them. I hadn't had a monthly in five years. They recently stopped the medication."

"Ah, that would make it awkward then."

"Yeah. So Morrigan gave me some potion to temporarily stop my bleeding, but she said I should talk to you about them being so heavy."

She shot me a sharp look. "Don't use those potions often, do you hear me?"

"I know, I know. They cause birth defects. Pregnancy isn't exactly something I'm concerned about at the moment."

She relaxed. "At least she told you. So you were hoping I could decrease your bleeding?"

"I would be forever grateful if you could."

"Let me just..." I felt her aura flare, and she directed some sort of magic at my belly.

"Is that some sort of...diagnostic tool?"

She nodded as the magic winked out. "Ironically...we should probably talk to Anders. As much as I don't approve of him, he was the finest spirit healer in the tower, by far."

"I can't talk about this to Anders!"

"Oh, youth." Her lips twitched, trying to suppress a laugh. "He's a healer. He won't be embarrassed."

"I will!"

"What about if I tell him? All you have to do is lay there."

"I..." Oh, who am I kidding, I'll go through a lot worse than that to have better periods. "Fine. But what exactly is it that's wrong with me?"

She looked surprised. "Well, your womb is...I don't know how to explain it to someone who's not a healer. There's some unusual blood flow, and the lining gets too thick. Anders will be able to redirect the flow so that doesn't happen. It often takes a couple of attempts to fix it, just so you know. And it can be...uncomfortable."

I nodded, not exactly thrilled, but willing if it meant I wouldn't have to deal with the same problem again.

"There's one other thing I want to talk to you about."

"Oh?" I looked at the healer, who had a suspiciously neutral expression on her face. "What's that?"

"Actually, it's more something to show you." She turned and lifted a brown leather tube off the small bedside table in her cabin. "Don't open it now. Open it later tonight. Before bed."

"A gift?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"Of sorts. Now, scoot, young lady. Let's go find Anders."

I dropped the tube off in my cabin, tucking it inside my pack for safekeeping, then followed Wynne back to Anders' cabin. She pulled him aside and whispered into his ear for a few minutes. I was red-faced and horrified, and he smiled softly at me, trying to put me at ease.

"Can you lay down for a second? It shouldn't take long."

I nodded, and awkwardly crawled onto his bed. Wynne stayed, and I soon felt both auras flare, as the same evaluation scan Wynne had done to me before started. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I wasn't there, imagining myself on a beach somewhere tropical, anything to keep my mind off the embarrassing problem I was having. At least there's no nakedness or stirrups or awkward physical examination involved. I purposefully didn't listen as they discussed what they were feeling, and then Wynne's aura faded. Anders' aura was similar to Wynne's but somehow deeper, or bigger; his flared higher and I felt warmth spread through my belly.

Suddenly the warmth became heat and then burning, and I gasped, biting my lip to keep from screaming. I felt like he was burning my insides with a laser, and the target slowly moved throughout my abdomen. The pain got worse and worse, and I finally couldn't help the cry that escaped, before eventually passing out. The blackness was a relief.

When I woke, it was much darker outside, if the lack of light streaming in through the window was any indication, and I had been moved. Disoriented, I looked around to realise I was on the bed in my own cabin. Sitting in a chair at my side was Anders, his expression anxious; across the room, leaning against the wall, was Alistair. Aedan sat on the bed at my side, holding my hand.

I struggled to sit up, and Anders sprang up to assist me. They told me I'd passed out, which I knew; drawn by my cry, Alistair and Aedan had come running, and they decided to bring me back to my own room to recover.

I could tell Alistair was furious at Anders; his mouth was pressed into a thin line, and his scowl could have melted plastic. Anders seemed amused by it, and I struggled not to laugh when his lips twitched every time Alistair sighed.

Anders asked my permission to examine me to ensure the healing was done, which I granted; I watched as he ran another diagnostic scan. He then asked Aedan and Alistair to leave. Aedan got up without a word, squeezed my hand, and left. Alistair's scowl deepened.

"Why should we have to leave?"

Anders sighed. "Look, some things are more...sensitive, than others, to heal. This could be embarrassing for her. It's bad enough with a healer in the room; infinitely worse with someone else."

"Do I have to get naked or something?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"No." He leaned over and whispered, softly enough that Alistair couldn't hear. "This time it won't be painful. It will probably be the opposite. It's not uncommon for, uh, reactions to happen." I raised my eyebrows, and he chuckled. "Don't worry. You'll like it, and I'll never tell."

I whispered back. "And now I know why you became a spirit healer." His laugh was infectious, and as embarrassed as I was, I couldn't help but join him. Alistair looked unamused and irritated, and it made me laugh harder.

"It's okay, Alistair. You can go." I gestured towards the door.

"I'm not leaving you alone with him."

I sighed, giggling mood gone. "You know what? Fine. Go ahead and watch."

I laid back again, gave Anders a decisive nod, and closed my eyes. I heard Alistair close the door to my cabin. I felt the usual magic aura, and then suddenly gasped as the warmth started flooding my belly again. This time, though, it didn't feel like a laser; it felt like hands, stroking with just the right pressure, moving down, and down further. And then I was overtaken by pleasure, body writhing as the warmth pooled in my core. I tried to fight it, one part of my brain horrified as I groaned and bucked against the invisible fingers, but I had no control over it. I lay, shuddering, and the warmth finally receded, leaving me panting and my head spinning.

When I finally opened my eyes, Alistair was huddled on the floor, head in hands, trembling, and Anders was looking at me, apologetic and anxious. I gave Anders a reassuring smile and sat up, feeling better, though extremely...frustrated.

"Did it work?"

"Yes. It should be more normal, now." He looked over at Alistair, looked back at me, shrugged, squeezed my shoulder, and took his leave.

I sighed and approached Alistair. "Hey."

He didn't look up, just grunted in response.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it would be quite like...that. I'd have insisted you leave."

"And leave that bastard alone in here with you like that? No."

"Alistair, he was healing me. Fixing that embarrassing girl problem I'd rather not deal with. He wasn't doing anything wrong."

"Right."

"I trust Anders. I know you don't, but try to think of Zevran. You don't have to trust him, but I'd like to think, despite everything, that maybe you still trust me? Besides, frankly, the first healing hurt like hell. If this is the alternative, I'll take it. And better him than Wynne, because that would just be creepy."

He stood up quite suddenly, and I took a step back in surprise. He reached out and cupped my face gently. "I trust you with my life. I let him heal you, didn't I? I wanted to punch him in the face, but I didn't. But I didn't promise not to hate every man who looks at you with lust on his face, and I can't promise that I'll get better about that. That said..."

He leaned in and kissed my forehead softly, then released my face and turned away. "Leliana told me I should let you go. I have no intention of doing that. But she also said I'm hurting you, and that I will not do. So this is the last time I will bring it up. I picked one more song, but I'm done after that. I will keep it to myself, my love and my desire and my jealousy; I won't torment you with it anymore. But know this. I love you, and I always will. I don't expect your forgiveness. But if you ever need anything, I will be there."

He leaned over and placed my phone on the bed, then without looking back, walked away. I sat on the edge of the bed, dumbfounded. I decided to delay listening to the song, and instead rifled through my pack, pulling out the tube from Wynne. The smell of parchment and leather teased my nose when I popped the end off the tube, and a thick roll of parchment slid out onto my bed. I carefully unrolled it - parchment, while thicker than paper, is far more fragile - catching just a glimpse of an eye as it sprang back into the roll. I tried again and finally flattened the papers out.

The top page was a picture, drawn by hand, of Aedan and I, sitting together, laughing. There were shadows on our faces, making it look like firelight; Aedan had his arm casually around my shoulders, his head thrown back in a laugh. I was more restrained, but my eyes were scrunched with laughter, and I hid my mouth behind a hand like I tend to when giggling. I had what must have been a smear of dirt on my forehead, and my hair was coming undone from a braid or pony tail, curling crazily around my face. The detail was incredible; you'd have thought it was a photograph rendered into sepia tones with photo-editing software.

I set that page aside to see another drawing, this time of Leliana, Wynne, and me around a table talking. The third was Aedan, Zevran, and me; the fourth Duncan and me. There was one of me sparring with Sten, one of Leli braiding my hair, one of me grinding herbs with Morrigan for potions. Each picture was perfect, capturing the mood of each subject, as well as the subtle details that make each person unique.

And the theme was obvious - each picture was of me, with one of more of our companions. Until I flipped through a few more, and my eyes grew round. The bottom half of the stack of parchment was pictures of me alone. Sitting, eating, watching the fire, star-gazing. There was one of me sitting cross-legged on the floor of Soldier's Peak drawn from behind, shoulders stiff, head turned so that I'd just be able to see the observer out of the corner of my eye. I knew whose point of view the picture must have represented; I could recall sitting in a circle, discussing next steps, and feeling Alistair's gaze on my back.