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A Match to Tinder	By : Anesor Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4095 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Aldera is my character, as are a few new ones.

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-- The Free Marches - Planasene Forest
Hawke:
The next morning seemed subtly cleaner because we had a definite goal now. Despite that, I carefully checked my bruises as I washed up in the morning when I was alone. Those few minutes had been frightening as Anders hadn't reacted to anything I'd said. I'd thought his spirit was calmer being away from Kirkwall, as those other recent manifestations had been better.
But Anders' embrace had become very painful for a moment, before lessening to just being tight without any other change. If it hadn't been for the Fade energy I could feel around him, that was almost like being too close to lightning spells, I could have thought nothing was wrong.
Only when I could feel him gasping for air, did I realize Anders hadn't been breathing for some time. Then I was horrified, wanting to do something, anything to help.
Anders looked so scared himself and his explanation didn't say much, so I didn't push. He tried, and surely had not wanted me to know what had happened.
My bruises were nothing after so many battles, as I'd gotten worse from tripping when doing something dumb. His eyes looked hollow, and I worried. I held him tightly as he finally fell asleep, while I listened to the noises of the night.
Anders was a little remote as we set out in the morning, though he seemed more normal when I tried a few lame jokes. Travel was quiet for the next several days, as we descended towards the Planasene.
We traveled only a few miles a day, as I hoped the search for us would keep spreading further the longer we were missing. If we could remain missing for even a few months, there'd be too many places we could be. Searchers would be tracking old leads that would be so out of date as to be useless.
I was more worried about Sebastian than the Templars or Chantry, especially if he ever got his head out of his arse and stopped thinking in terms of conquering my city. I really wished I could see his face when that happened, as we'd talked so many times about not wanting that kind of power. Did he really think I was lying that long?
We didn't hurry, so we could find some food and stretch our supplies. I helped with hunting with my bow, or fishing a little. I wasn't as good as the prince, but we had meat every day or so. Paws got more on his own, but he ate most of his. Merrill knew other edible things, and I got used to the different flavors. She even found a grove that had enough shells from last season left for our next task.
A task that Anders was very reluctant to do, getting more and more fidgety as the water and crushed shells cooled late in the afternoon.
Running his fingers through his hair, he asked with a bit of a whine, “Why do I have to change my hair color? Lots of men have lighter hair color, and to cut it shorter too?”
Merrill restrained a smile and busied herself with sorting more shells for later dying. Paws wagged a stubby tail, and was doing his version of grinning at me.
Sighing, I had to ask, “What else are you willing to do to change your appearance? Losing depth perception, faking limb loss, wearing heavy armor?
“You've already made me stop wearing my pauldrons. I spent a lot of time collecting those feathers,” Anders said wistfully.
Putting the pot down, I stepped over and put an arm around him. “We're not getting rid of them. Maybe we can wear our armor again someday, but not now.”
“I...” he started and then looked a little distracted. Perhaps he and his spirit were having a disagreement by the expressions that flickered on his face. Sadder when they were done, he admitted while looking down at the ground, “I had to lose all my little vanities with Justice: clothing, jewelry, frivolous magic, and even the flirting that got me out of trouble more times than it got me in. My hair was the only thing I managed to keep through the years. That was what I wouldn't let anyone change, that I could look in a mirror and be almost sure I was still there...”
Anders looked younger than me for once, and I threw my arms around his neck. He hugged me fiercely as well.
His voice got threadier as he said into my hair, “Who am I now? All I started out wanting was to travel freely like other wardens could, and to heal more than an occasional apprentice's accident. What have I done?”
I was supporting virtually all his weight now as his knees wobbled and then buckled, and I let us sink to our knees. I just held him tight as he shook. The worst of my grief had passed, at least a little, but he hadn't thought he'd survive this long. I couldn't answer his questions, and just crooned as I rubbed his back.
After silence for a while, his embrace was less about his despair and more about holding me. I wondered how often he might have had this growing up. He never implied anything nice about his parents, and I doubted he would have gotten comforted when first dragged back to Circle Tower after one of his escapes. He had to have been very lonely long before he was in isolation. I'm sure he envied me that I had a sister and that Bethany had Mother's approval.
Still I rubbed his back slowly, and I eventually pulled back just enough to look him in the face and say, “Anders.”
Looking desperately unhappy he asked quietly, “What?”
Tracing his dampened face, I could say with a tiny smile, “I'm answering your question. You're Anders, a wonderful mage who should look before he leaps a bit more often. I wonder if Flemeth's words were more for you, even if she was looking at me. I don't think I'm flying.”
“You leaped after me, we'll fly away together,” he said with a small smile and his eyes moist. Then he crushed me against himself, saying in a bare whisper, “You kept me from falling into the mindless violence that became too easy after Karl's death. It happened once in Ferelden, and that once might barely be called defending myself. Those maps were the best thing I ever filched, as you found me because of them.” A brief pause and his mood shifted again, “And if I do become something mindless, give me one last gift of mercy.”
Choking at the thought, at first I could only nod. “I'll... try, I promise,” I managed to get out after a hard swallow.
Holding him for a long moment, the solid warmth of his body soon reminded me that we weren't in that dark a place yet, and I asked, “Can we dye your hair now? You're still my Anders, even if we can't get dye for this.”
His chuckle sounded a little surprised, “Stubborn lady. I suppose a nice brown would not be a terrible thing. I'm rather fond of it,” Anders said while running his fingers through my plain brown hair.
Leaning back on my heels with a sappy smile after a bit, I called Paws and asked him to bring Merrill back so we could start.
It took several more evenings using the dye after slow travel days, before we decided Anders' hair and brows were dark enough. I began looking for something suited to making some beads. He liked that idea much better than cutting it all really short.
Merrill thought our hair color being similar now made us cute and went on and on about it as we collected more of the intact nuts to pack with our food. She hadn't lost her knack at annoying him, though I hid a smile.
It took me visiting the first village we found for me to buy enough leather to make something that resembled leather armor for him, though it wasn't as protective as his coat. My armor was battered enough as were my weapons that I could pass as a lone archer mercenary looking for work. I'd tied some rags over my bow and scuffed it. My daggers were hidden now, and I tried to walk into the village with that odd archer strut that both Varric and Sebastian had. Both Anders and Merrill laughed at my disguise before I left them, but I hoped others would have less reason to guess who I was.
I asked about possible work in the area, carefully counting out the few silver I brought with me for the leather. In sparse whining comments as I spoke with different people, I claimed to be coming from the ports of Cumberland and Gwaren where some idiot of a bann wanted to retake Ostagar, and I was too afraid of darkspawn taint to get promotions from my last Captain. I'd fought enough darkspawn to make those fears credible. I wanted to be a mercenary fresh from Ferelden, and down on her luck.
Their news was scant, as only a few traders visited this place. With thanks for the work tips, I left, supposedly for Kirkwall.
Circling back to my friends, we moved further into the forest and away from the narrow road to finish our work for another day.
“How do I look?” Anders asked us, sounding worried.
“Hmm, I don't know...” I had to say, holding out the pause while moving to a different viewing point, trying to look grim.
Merrill was worried as she'd done most of the planning and cutting. We'd all done some of the stitching, though I was the worst. I slipped her a wink as soon as I was out of his sight.
Anders reached up to rub his ear, where one of the handful or so of tiny braids with scuffed beads kept hitting when he moved his head. He'd suffered through some changes we made in the armor when we realized it was starting to look too elven. This version looked fine, very fine... even if too clean and unmarred by dirt and stains. It was very nice to see more of him without his coat, very nice.
“Well, spit it out,” Anders said, turning to glare at me. “I miss my robes already.”
“Really? You wore those long robes like all the other Circle mages?” Merrill looked surprised. “Why are you missing them now and not last month or last year? Did you have trouble running in those long robes? You humans are not very graceful, well most of you at least.”
Pinching the leather and fabric of the shoulder pads and looking irritated, Anders muttered, “Yes. I ran well enough in them. I had very nice robes in Amaranthine, but this... thing has no enchantments.”
I saw Merrill looked a little hurt at that, so I stepped closer, sliding an arm around him, saying, “Merrill worked hard on this, we all did, so be nice, Anders. And you look good in it. A little too clean and new, but that we can work on that, I hear some muddy water and rocks calling for our help.”
His dawning smirk turned to dismay, I'd never quite realized before this trip, but he really didn't like getting muddy and mucky. Water was okay, but no mud pies as a child I guess. Then there wasn't a whole lot of free-standing mud around Kirkwall. Plants were stunted and sparse from the rocks everywhere, not making for much honest mud and soil, just greyish brown dirt everywhere.
Shaking her head, Merrill finished packing up the last parts of our camp. We needed news along with some more supplies, as Merrill shouldn't have to do so much to keep us fed. I wasn't hungry that often, but I worried about Anders. I could feel his stomach rumbling at night, though he denied it.
We continued west and slightly south once we reached the Planasene. I thought Merrill was looking for some kind of sign of another Dalish clan, but I didn't see any. We did see a lot of wet when we left the higher lands, it seemed like we'd gotten rained on every day for a week. At dusk we'd put up the only tarp we had on the driest place we could. We used a fire to eat and dry off.
Merrill was more cheerful away from Kirkwall, though I still didn't understand why she consulted me on so many things. I knew the least, I'd always lived in or near settlements, always had something like a home to return to.
Anders was getting used to wearing the light leather armor, and his armor was gaining stains and scuffs. He even tried a few spells, but every spell was less effective than it usually was.
The second rainy night, the storm had passed and Paws had settled down. Anders and I had settled close to whisper together while Merrill slept, even if we didn't go much further. I wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of privacy or his worry that he'd lose control.
“I hate this much mud,” Anders grumbled so I could barely hear. A large droplet of water blew in enough to land on his skin, and he shuddered in annoyance, trying to glare at the tarp. He dug out a cloth and wiped himself, muttering.
Pulling him closer, I kissed where the offending water had landed, and reminded him, “I don't think we can put it much lower and still be able to move around.”
“Merrill should have her own tent,” he whispered into my ear, nibbling on it. “She can take the dog with her.”
A small chuckle, as I said, “Then we'd need watches, which would defeat your plans for the privacy. And Paws likes you more than her anyway.”
He snorted, not as quietly, and said, “Mabaris, what is it with those dogs? Someone even tried to smuggle one into the Circle tower once, but Irving didn't like that and had it sent away.”
Not that surprised, but I was angry for them. “Couldn't you have any pets?”
“No,” he admitted. “A mabari could rip a throat out when it matured, so that isn't a surprise. They used even fish like a club, so they often died from 'accidents' that were announced to have been done by nasty students lashing out at the rest of us. The sudden death of pets was the first thing that taught you to give them no handle on you.”
“What about that cat?” I wondered.
His smile could be heard in his voice when he told me, “He wasn't a pet, he was one of the mousers. He had free reign as long as he brought them vermin. Though I think some of the vermin were pets too. They were too smart to be caught by the Templars though.”
Sighing, I admitted, “Aveline thought we should get a mabari pup since Paws could help with training it...”
“Another dog?” he objected. “There'll be no room in our bed for us.”
“We don't have a bed, and there's plenty of ground.”
Anders grazed my cheek with a kiss and said, “Your puppy eyes don't work as well in the dark.”
I could smile and say, “I wouldn't try any puppy eyes if you can't see them. I think Aveline wants one too. And Paws didn't bother you in bed after a while, so stop complaining about it already.”
“Should I conjure a light to verify that those jaws that could snap through a Hurlock's skull are on your foot and he's watching me?” he said dryly.
“Um, don't bother. To be fair, unless we want muddy mabari waking us, he has to be well under the tarp too,” I said with my face warming.
I could feel Paws raise his head enough to yawn at Anders.
Anders shifted us so I could put my head on his shoulder, and he said tentatively, “Can you tell me more about your idea? I can see the benefit, I just don't think I could do it. At least not now. I could not wear their robes, no matter how protective they were.”
“Would you be willing to try the assistant?” I whispered, still uneasy. “I'm not so hot at memorizing text exactly like that. Most of my skills are dodging and jiggling.”
There was a dead silence, and I looked at him, worried that he'd start leaking blue. I could feel a few stray droplets blow under the tarp.
Anders' shoulder began to shake under my head. Then he snorted and began to laugh.
Thinking back, I finally realized what I'd said and I had to smile. I wished that had been deliberate, but I'd take what I could get.
Merrill murmured something in her sleep, and Anders started snickering more quietly. I was grinning, and let him.
“Maker, I needed that,” Anders said, pulling me close for a kiss. “Tell me, and I'll help you memorize. I'll try it if we have no other options.”
“We'd need clothing, a story, and names. If Sister Nightingale is an example, we can get away with something that means something to us...” I said carefully.
I didn't have that many more ideas, but we could think about these things for a while. At some point Merrill would have her own goals to pursue and would go on.
After maybe three weeks of slow travel, I caught the scent of salt air, and insisted on seeing the sea. I looked out over the water, and saw a ship in the distance, sailing west. Anders had stayed back in the trees, but I wasn't sure how much of his paranoia was justified now.
I was getting tired of waiting and asked Merrill, “How much of the this forest have we crossed?”
“Perhaps half, Hawke,” she said bleakly, scanning the horizon. She hadn't met my eyes since we stopped.
“Merrill, what's wrong?” I prodded
Compressing her lips, she admitted, “We have not hurried over a straight path, and yet I have seen little sign that my people have been here in years. This is a rich land. I had hoped perhaps another clan might have been brought here. I have seen no recent sign, perhaps none have come here...”
Her voice was thready, and she stopped there.
“Or? Or they avoid you?” Anders asked, his voice just missing criticism.
“Some hunters are far better than I at being unseen,” Merrill agreed quickly.
“We'll find something,” I told Merrill, “but I think we should get moving again.”
They only nodded, and we started a march along the coast watching for a village or smuggler's port. We stayed within the treeline, making camps well out of any ship's watch.
A two days later we spotted a village. It seemed to have some docks hidden by rocks from ships further out, if nothing was in port. There were enough buildings that they should have a tavern, or even a merchant or two. But without a wall or large building, they shouldn't have much of a Chantry.
I asked, “Are we ready to meet with strangers again?”

--- x ---
A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.
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A Match to Tinder