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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 Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. I get no money for writing this sequel.
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-- East of Halamshiral, the Imperial Highway
Anders:
The Imperial Highway was a lofty height above the marshes. The ground didn't look so very solid from above, and I wondered how far the road was sunken into the bedrock. The highway usually had only slow curves aside from around Lake Calenhad, but now I wondered why it wandered here. Not that I had anyone to ask, so we debated that as we walked towards Ferelden. With the problem I'd had with those Templars, we'd decided without even discussing it to not travel with a caravan. Hawke had given a brief summary to Merrill of the encounter, but that was all.
I'd been so glad that night that she'd stayed despite the fear that I'd seen. But her silences were longer and more abstracted now. Oh, we talked, like we always did on a march, but she was more guarded and there was a distance. I'd warned her so many times, betrayed her, forced her to leave her home and friends, but this distance wasn't just hurt like it was after Kirkwall. It was colder and more calculating than after an argument. We'd find an inn off the highway some nights, but her touch then only gave me small comfort.
I tried not to be hurt that she was keeping secrets, but I missed the very thing I'd ruined.
Now we talked about Ferelden, of Hawke's family moving from place to place, only somewhat less often than Merrill's clan had moved, and for the same base reason. I talked about what I'd done on my escapes, short or long. Merrill and Hawke asked about Amaranthine and the Warden. The storytellers like Varric spoke of someone very different than I knew, and the book Hawke had devoured years ago had more gaps than substance.
Amaranthine was on the other side of the country, and we'd be skirting the lake where I'd spent so many years. I knew more about the towns and countryside around the lake, though I doubted there were many who might recognize me now. It wasn't just my coloring and change of armor, but I'd changed. It wasn't just from Justice. I suspected that I was already changing from meeting the Warden and my duties there, before we even met Justice in the Fade.
I didn't even remember visiting the towns clustered around Calenhad and its rivers, just the scent of fish and bigotry in most of them. The Docks serving the Tower I remembered all too well from being dragged back in chains after each escape. What I knew of them was probably very dated gossip from a book I'd once memorized while planning an escape almost twenty years ago. Some might be gone or greatly changed from the Blight, but I could amuse them with feuds, trade goods known for Silvencoomb, and the scandalous story that Elmcroft-by-the-Calenhad was started by a bastard of Calenhad.
Redcliffe, I'd heard more about than any place other than Lothering much further east. The demon there did nearly as much damage as happened to Lothering during the Blight. That demon possession of a child was not something either Justice nor I wanted to think about when we'd heard the tale.
And now, thinking about my lies about my separating from Justice, I was reluctant to even remember Attryne's story: the tale of the blood mage and a mother's death to save her boy. We had a blood mage with us now, but there was only one person in Thedas who'd consider doing that for me. I didn't want to tell her that tale because I couldn't live with myself if she got the idea to do something that desperate.
So I happily told them about Oghren and Wynne and all the others I knew who had fallen into the Hero of Ferelden's company, even her damn mabari. The last seemed to amuse Paws, because I would swear that he was laughing at me when his tongue was hanging out.
We didn't push our pace, but it was still less than a week until we reached the border town of Maric's Gate. It was mostly a military town to guard against Orlais, with soldiers everywhere wearing uniforms unfamiliar to me. The rest seemed to be all merchants.
There were a few Templars, but far more soldiers everywhere. Hawke was passing through the market, gathering rumors while I played with Ser Mew.
Hoping we could get some bread, enough for a day or two, my attention was on Mew when I caught a glimpse of a squad of Templars, pulling a couple of mages... in chains.
Anger and remembered shame filled me despite the crowded market, and I wanted so badly to shove their chains where they would do the most good. But a small part said not only that this was suicidal with so many soldiers and many in the market were innocents, Hawke chief among them.
But Vengeance was feeding on my own memories of being dragged to a Circle and roaring for control. Crouching as my attention turned inward, I begged him to stop as I felt my skin begin to crack.
I was knocked down by a weight barreling into me.
Shocked briefly, Vengeance paused.
Whispering urgently, Hawke told us, “We can follow them and free them away from here. Then the town guards won't be chasing those children.”
“Yes,” Merrill agreed in a quiet voice. “The one might become a Keeper, if...”
We were still teetering on the edge, when Dera seized my face and gave me a thorough kiss. I felt both warmth and annoyance, but my arms found their way around her. It seemed only a moment until I heard a catcall, but I could breathe again.
With a last caress, I told her, “I like your plans, love.”
Inside was quiet, so we stood up again. Few were even looking at us, and most of those were amused teens. Looking over some of the crowd, I could still see the helms and took Dera's hand with a quick kiss. She guided us after the Templars and whispered to Paws as well.
Walking leisurely, the sods paused to buy something. I didn't really care what it was, but it did mean that we also paused to look at some woven blankets, more suited to the colder winters here. Hawke and Merrill spoke briefly and bought one in an undyed wool. I watched the Templars out of the corner of my eye.
Hawke must have been watching too, as our purchase was complete as soon as the Templars moved. First she, and then Merrill spoke about the color of the weft as we moved after them. It seemed like forever, but the sun had not moved that much in the sky when the Templars had left the city gate, taking the road marked for Jader. Jader was a port city, and they must have wanted to take these mages to someplace where they still had more power.
We dawdled a little, letting the group gain some distance away before we caught up with them. It was easy, and I could feel Vengeance reveling in their deaths. Dera made sure they were quick and efficient and I concentrated on healing Hawke and Merrill.
The best part was that the people I was here to rescue were not cowering when they saw me. Hawke and Merrill split the Templars' equipment for the mages after their chains had been removed. With a smirk, Hawke chained the corpses before dragging them well away from the road. Those with elven blood we sent west to the clan, those without I sent to the Vigil, without revealing my name. They would be safer there, I hoped. I told them to ask for Oghren and Anders, insinuating more than ever was.
I only wished I could see his face when he heard this. Even Justice seemed amused at the idea. I was just happy that I hadn't lost control again and how the tables had turned for those Templars and mages.
The Tevinter Highway continued east, past Orzammar and to Lake Calenhad. On a clear day we might be able to see Kinloch Tower across the water from the road. But the ages since Tevinter first lost the land that would become Ferelden, had not been kind to the highway through the mountains. There were two major breaks in the highway, either from harsh weather or earthquakes. Trade still flowed, but it would take longer than the week implied by mere distance along the road. The largest gap was near where Orzammar was reported to be, and the lack of repairs part of their defenses I thought.
Hawke was still stilted too often, even if we were as close as in Kirkwall at night. Merrill and even Paws were more wary too, but with Hawke it hurt more.
With the extra caution around strangers, we passed through inns and by caravans peacefully enough. The first section of broken road had another road running alongside and there were bridges spanning the gap, bridges that didn't look all that sturdy. Looking down we could see the remains of collapsed bridges, so we followed a caravan down to walk over, on solid ground. The next leg on the highway was uneventful until we ran out of road.
There was a sign pointing southeast for the main road to Gherlen's Pass and the rest of Ferelden. The second sign marked for Orzammar went east and we were the only ones taking it.
This road was well traveled and fairly wide, but it wasn't a stone road bed as I'd gotten used to. Mud and rocks, gullies and even a few barely smoothed wash outs, this was not a road for smooth and swift travel. Our progress slowed as winter wasn't that far off.
Snow had never lingered around Kinloch Tower. We enjoyed playing in it briefly, and our instructors allowed students to melt it. I could see snow all over the rest of the countryside, but I'd slowly forgotten how little travel happened during the winter. There were always so many mages, Templars, and even the occasional visitor. Merrill and Hawke spoke about the problems they had in the winter.
I'd only tried two of my escape attempts in the winter. The earlier one was before I realized I would need extra clothing and equipment. The small fire spell I knew was not a threat to anything larger than a cricket. It wasn't enough to clear my path in the ice or keep me warm. The found me only hours later, huddled under a tree trying to dry enough wood to start a fire to keep warm. I was bruised and sore with a sprained ankle from the ice everywhere. Greagoir had been probably amused at my soggy and shivering self, even if he'd said all the required lectures.
The second time I made it further. It was a little after the coldest part of winter, and I'd used a staff to test the ice as I slid my way across to land again. I got further that time, along the east side of the lake to Elmcroft-by-Calenhad, according to the painted sign by an inn. My clothing fit in by this attempt, but my coins were paltry for the costs and I was locked in a storeroom until someone would come to collect me. The only thing I learned that time was that the village had been founded by a bastard of Calenhad. It struck me as made up history like the forever mythical Ashes.
After that, I decided I'd need less money for my escapes if I could sleep outdoors.
Their travel stories were mostly amusing and filled the time as we got closer to the entrance of the largest living thaig in Thedas. One morning we'd had what Hawke called a dusting snow, but we might have another six weeks, or possibly eight before we'd probably have to take shelter for a month or two. We were only a week or two at most from Orzammar's entrance. Paws didn't mind the cold as we hiked, he actually wasn't panting or slobbering as much which made me happier.
Ser Mew was tucked in a sling along my front, and he seemed to have no urge to go out in the cold breeze. But his purring comforted me as we walked.
There was a village only a few days from the highway with a name of Duck Pier. There was nothing like a pier there, they had streams and wells. The inn had few rooms, as a caravan heading for Orlais seemed to have taken all of them. Talking to the servers, the other road to Orzammar from Ferelden didn't have much of this kind of shipping and no inns. We took shelter above the stable, much warmer than the tent, now that all the leaves had fallen and nights were getting colder. We had much more room than our tent, but about the same privacy.
Hawke and Merrill had packed up some food, on the likelihood that we would not reach shelter tonight. There was a little sun, so it might be a good day for travel and a warmer night than clear skies.
But when we left the inn a semi-circle of people were spread out before us. Some looked local, mostly dwarves who may have been exiled a generation before. Some looked human who had traveled to get here, and one told Hawke and I to surrender. He spoke in an Antivan accent and there was a princely bounty on our heads.
That woke Justice like an avalanche. This fight didn't go as well, some may have gotten away. I know I wasn't sure of the body count by the time we won. I also wasn't sure if any witnesses had heard our names when they were used. Hawke looked troubled and we left the village in a hurry, without ever seeing any ducks.
I would have liked getting a new feather or two.
This time as we traveled, we could hear a group just at the edge of our hearing. With the hills around us, we couldn't even be sure if they were ahead of us or behind us. Justice was vigilant, leaving me jittery from his attention. We'd started seeing more distance markers, made in the dwarven style of rock. Even Merrill had gotten quiet, while Hawke had doubled back silently every so often to try to find the source of the sound.
I'd been worried every time she did, even if I knew she should be fine. Each time with her return, I sighed in relief and pulled her close for a kiss. With every hour my temper got more brittle, so much that we rejected taking shelter with a farmer. It was too obvious a place to be attacked.
We spent a chilly night huddled away from the road on a tiny ledge, without even a fire to keep warmer. They slept the night through. I was exhausted after a couple of nights, but Vengeance was angry enough that we weren't seeking them out that he watched.
It wasn't as good as sleep, but I could still get by.
The third day, Hawke was insistent. “You will sleep tonight, Anders. We aren't covering as much ground, and Maker forbid, what happens if we are attacked and you can't fight as well.”
That only made me smile a little. “Then Justice takes over and burns them to ash. Problem solved.”
“Maybe so, Anders. But what happens if we meet other travelers who don't need to keep warm?” Merrill sounded a little tired too. “We don't know the kinds of travelers who will be at the trading area. Do not Templars want lyrium too? Perhaps someone like a Dalish who has warriors as guards? Might not some refuse us admission if you kill their trading partners in front of them?”
“You must sleep tonight.” Hawke was going past insistent and into angry. All traces of humor and affection were gone from her face, leaving a cold stranger. “You will sleep tonight, even if I have to make it happen.”
Despite my warning her and myself so many times, I was desperate to see Dera in her eyes again. Putting on what I hoped was a roguish grin, I said, “If you sit on me to make me sleep, I don't think either of us will get much sleep.”
She shook her head, but she was smiling now so I could breathe again.
“I think, even with our slower travel, we should get there tomorrow or the day after.” Merrill rubbed her arms. “I really miss our aravels now that it grows colder. I had not journeyed during a winter without them before.”
Raising my attention above where I was stepping and watching for attack, I realized that day we were taking more breaks and going more slowly than the road required. When we made our camp for the night, I settled to sleep next to Dera while she watched with her mabari.
Merrill woke me when the sun was well up. I felt almost rested, and the day's march was much easier. Reaching someplace where we could be warm and alone yet today was very appealing.
A wordless shout from above us came only a fraction of a second before I heard the thrumming of the release of many bowstrings. One tore through my leather armor, reaching flesh, too close to my organs. I heard cries from Hawke and Merrill too even as I spun up my defenses.
The crackle of lightning struck all around us and I heard cries from them as well as at least a score of dwarves charged from cover. They didn't seem slowed and I feared these might be resistant, unlike the surface clans.
Most converged on Hawke with their battle cries as I sent ice in a fan at those attacking me. Those dwarves cursed and called for help. Waiting a few seconds, I called fire down, even if I was feeling lightheaded from casting in the armor. More ice and a blast to get them away from me, and there were still so many...
Merrill was bleeding, and I hoped it was real injuries and not the self mutilation of blood magic. Paws was at the throat of one. Where was Hawke?
More of the dwarves were reaching the area around me, and I could hear the sound of stray arrows. Another fan of ice to slow them, and I saw Hawke on the ground near Paws. No! She can't be dead.
Barely holding control, I ignored my attackers for a few precious seconds. I couldn't revive her that quickly, but I tried to heal her just enough that she'd last until... until.
The blow hitting me felt very distant as I concentrated. But that didn't matter. Vengeance could finish the fight.
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A/N: The chapter title is amended from a quote by Horace. 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