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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.

Chapter List
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-- Orzammar, Grey Warden Outpost
Hawke:
Watching Anders actually chatting with an old friend was a revelation. With Nathaniel, their words were charged with old disagreements, maybe even contempt when they met again in the Deep Roads. The next time must it must not have mattered, as Howe showed up to fight in the Gallows, but they didn't talk.
Sigrun and he were much more friendly, after their conversation about his leaving the Wardens. She even took the news about Justice well. It was almost hard for me to believe they'd been separate once, but she'd addressed Justice too about some ring.
That Anders hadn't really mentioned these Wardens made me think. Did he really not have any more friends, or had he not wanted to tell me about them? Was I sad or angry about that?
But Anders relaxed after Sigrun seemed to accept what had happened before with the Wardens, and I got to ask her about locations along the mountains. I'd have to get more detail when Anders wasn't around. While they talked, I daydreamed a moment or five about Anders wearing the blue Warden armor, not that I'd tell him that blue and silver would look fine on him.
But when we talked about Provings, Anders realized that I wasn't just being idly curious, but gathering information. I was glad he missed the earlier bits.
“Are you thinking about entering, Hawke?” His eyes narrowed and he glared at Sigrun. “You haven't conned her into this, Sigrun?”
Touching his arm to draw his attention away from her, I spoke as soon as our eyes had met and I had his attention. This was my decision, not hers. “Anders, she asked me yesterday and I said no. Then I thought some more, and I might. We've been spending the money I managed to bring with us, and we've had little chance to earn more. We could use money for equipment, to give mages we free, or even bribes.” I knew I wasn't even in Varric's league for the well-placed bribe, so it'd cost more and not work as well.
Sigrun must have also seen his worry and tried to help. “Relax, mage. We won't brag about who Hawke is. Humans aren't considered good fighters in a Proving unless they're Grey Wardens. I've fought dozens of times since I came back, in mostly solo matches, and can't get good odds anymore. If she's not a Warden, the odds and profit will be much larger for us. We'll make a bundle between betting and prize money.”
“I don't want death matches, love,” I told him with a squeeze to his arm. “Maybe you can act as healer, just to be safe.”
I thought it might be a little fun. I'd fought so many that getting paid for it and no one dying seemed fine to me. I'd heard about Provings from Varric. Sometimes I wasn't sure I could measure up in combat without all my friends around me to help. I might be the famous Champion, but I wasn't sure if I really was any good. Was my reputation deserved, or was it just a facade?
To me, he still looked doubtful, and I knew he'd dismiss my worry because he was biased about me. I wanted to convince him. “I'll be careful.”
“You might be very careful, but they've done these for ages...” Cupping my cheek with his long fingers, he looked deep into my eyes, his own brown ones worried still. What he sought wasn't clear, but his lips brushed mine with a kiss. “You are not allowed to get yourself killed over a few coins. I'd rather go into the Deep Roads again.”
Making a rude noise, Sigrun said, “They don't have to be that bad. Their respect for the Wardens does cut down a little on the betting games and threats. If we do it quickly, before they have time to try something it should be safe enough for her. Bhelan would not appreciate the Commander of this post being killed either.”
“I don't like this, but I want to be nearby for healing,” Anders said with another flash of determination.
“Nearby shouldn't be a problem, but only combatants are allowed inside the arena. You won't be allowed to interfere if you're up in the audience. That they're strict about that, Lord Piotin Aeducan loves beheading offenders with his ax.” Sigrun seemed almost amused at a memory.
I didn't want him to worry, but I wanted to do this if I could. Looking at Sigrun for any objection, I added, “If you really think what she's proposing is that bad, I won't do it. But think of the story we can tell Varric if we see him again.”
Anders' eyes lightened a little and he smiled. “Can you imagine how he'd embellish it? There'd be a legion attacking you as you stood over the last with some kind of grand shout.”
That had been one of the things Varric chided me about, that I never really had a battle cry. I was too focused on my next blow to spare any effort to shout. Maybe it was because silence and being unnoticed was part of this rogue's stock in trade. Aveline, Fenris, and even Carter's bellows drew more attention from attackers. Dodging too many attacks slowed me down.
After that, we talked about Sigrun plans. With only two of us and me not a Warden, she thought we'd only have few opponents. I should watch a few Provings by some youngsters later today. I was to play the inexperienced human, wearing my old armor and let her talk. The negotiations should be done soon, before any surface dwarves present might catch on.
She wanted to know how often I'd fought dwarves so she could figure how competent they'd been. We could list all those times since I'd arrived in Kirkwall. I listed the Carta and even the dwarven members of so many other groups, from gangs I'd fought for Athenril to some deluded followers of She. The odder fights like how Bartrand had been maddened by red lyrium had her shaking her head, too. We talked until someone's stomach rumbled, and Anders pulled me onto his lap as we'd spoken.
He wasn't happy to miss the Proving negotiations and display of me as a slow newcomer, but both Sigrun and I were concerned about him being identified, even with the changes.
We then discovered from her that there was a small Circle 'tower' outside the gates in other caves, not even far from the Warden outpost. There were Templars there, but they had stayed quiet and barely seen by dwarves, Sigrun said they said that it had only a few mages and did research.
Anders looked both alarmed and a little angry that Templars were so close, but seemed reassured when Sigrun admitted her agents confirmed that the Templars were older and didn't interact with the mages. Justice didn't seem to react, and I wasn't about to question our luck there.
Or maybe he was still happy from the lyrium. A calm Justice was a good thing. I'd pay for that to happen more often.
Later I left with Sigrun for a real Proving, leaving Paws to keep Anders and Merrill company as they had tomes and writing supplies scattered around them.
Inside Orzammar, I couldn't quite get over the scale of the spaces they built. The preliminaries seemed kind of slow and pompous to me; so Sigrun and I added little comments to each other while inside a viewing box that we had to ourselves.
This was my chance while the one official spoke on and on, wearing clothing so stiff I could hear it crackle from here when he moved. “Sigrun, Can I ask you something, and you won't tell Anders?”
She stopped smiling and looked up at me in suspicion. “Maybe. Depends on why.”
This was her other friend too and I was almost afraid to ask. “It's about Justice. We've been avoiding talking about it because, well, I can't talk to Anders without Justice knowing everything too.”
Disapproval mixed with sadness colored her voice. “Are you planning to destroy Justice? The rumors about Kirkwall are pretty extreme. I don't see how even an abomination could destroy something that had been solidly built, even by surfacer dwarves. Justice fought more or less like any warrior and couldn't do any demolition in Amaranthine... What did they do?”
I could feel myself flush. I was part embarrassed, and more guilty. Biting my lip I took a step back to lean against the wall of the box. “I've never really asked, but he made something that exploded. They told me some story about a cure for Justice to get my help and later to place it... I think. We saw the a massive stone building fly apart in fire like some stone version of one of my grenades.”
Again I could hear the keening that rang in my head when it happened, and my knees wobbled. “I don't want to know how he did it, I really don't want to know. I just have to make sure he doesn't do it again.”
Sigrun had grenade materials in her office, that would be understood. She didn't say anything else.
“Anders told me long ago, maybe the day we met, that they could never be separated, not while he lived. But Justice keeps getting more violent and more likely to come out, risking hurting innocents, Their cause is... just.” I had to laugh, and heard a little hysteria in my voice and clicked my teeth when I clenched my mouth. After a moment, I spoke again. “I really don't want Anders to die. He, they, wanted to die for what they'd done. What abomination knows regret? But Justice isn't acting like Anders' few comments from his time with the Wardens. Your comments only seem to confirm that. If they can't be separated, I hope they can be cured.”
“He is possibly the most powerful healer I've ever heard of, excepting that Circle woman who helped fight the Archdemon.” The dwarf looked thoughtful, and thankfully not angry.
“I don't know if Justice would fight a cure. I think he would. I got frightened by the sheer violence Justice did in one town. There was nothing there of Anders. The dead were ripped apart and he was so cruel. Even Kirkwall wasn't cruel, but quick. He couldn't separate that Bartrand we mentioned, so I doubt another healer could help.” I doubted there was a more powerful healer, to heal him.
Running my fingers back through my hair, dislodging the red tie Aveline had given me, I looked down at the floor. “After Justice's violence, Anders was scared too and told me that I should do whatever I had to do.
“I don't want to have to kill him.” My voice was a bare whisper by this point.
Patting me on the shoulder, Sigrun said, “I can do it. He's not the first duster I've had to do it for.”
Lifting my head in a rush, I felt my teeth bare. “No, I'll do it, if it has to be done. I'd have to kill him, kill them twice, because Justice could control Anders' corpse easily with this many years' practice. Now I'm chasing a miracle, the Sacred Ashes. Anders said the Warden found them. Now we must.”
Whooshing her breath, Sigrun admitted, “Both the Commander and Alistair said they could feel something there like what the Fade felt like, but those Ashes cured the incurable.”
That was a relief, and gave me hope. “Justice is positively relaxed today after Anders pinched a lot of your lyrium supply. Can we take a keg with us? He's so much nicer today after he had some last night.”
She looked over the bout that had started while we were distracted. “I don't know what happened to the pure lyrium ring Justice had. It disappeared around when they did. I think he said once it sang to him. I don't think I can get that much for you to take away, but while you're here...”
“Thank you.” That would help, as even a few nights of relief, of Anders and Justice being downright cuddly was very appealing. How much lyrium could I manage to buy as well? “I believe in their cause, but I hope we can cure their temper. Any information you know about this Haven would be a help.”
She told me more; some was what Anders knew, some wasn't. Many of the differences were the things only a rogue would remember from a story: traps and decayed ruins more dangerous than traps. A dragon and a cult that was insane. Her stories about the final challenges were also sparse, to my frustration.
I watched the matches as we spoke, and a few of her comments were about that. But talking about duels was so much better than worrying about going into this search blind.
There weren't any deaths, even if some looked bad. Dwarves were tough, but they didn't have the nastier things like a Templar's smite or mage fire raining down from above. I wanted to get back to Anders while his spirit was in a good mood. After the matches some dwarves with snooty attitudes started sounding Sigrun out about Provings.
I played a little slow in my heavy looking armor with the great sword on my back, the well worn Celebrant that I reached for when they made insults. Mostly I looked at Sigrun as if to copy her actions and kept my eyes unfocussed and vacant. Sigrun got them playing her tune, offering solo Provings with her as a Grey Warden at first, as I was a guest. Then reluctantly she admitted that I wasn't a Warden and had never dueled...
That cooled the enthusiasm of some, but others were more interested in the action. Sigrun took us away before anything was settled, fuming and muttering.
Back in the Warden area, she grinned and told me, “Most of them are well netted now, though it might be a few days until I let them convince me about prizes and rules. The Proving Master will have his say and he'll want your name.”
“I don't know if that's a good idea.” My stomach had dropped at the idea of my name being announced to a crowd.
Sigrun waved that away. “No, the rumors from the Marches call you Champion. I had more information because of your sister being mentioned in dispatches from Ansburg. I don't think any of the newer wardens here know your clan name.
“The noble caste doesn't give a nug's piss for the surface, except for business opportunities. Every clan now has a few who directly trade outside Orzammar. I don't think they've noticed that wages have been rising slowly here as more go up. Dusters only care when they have enough to strike out on their own or sign up with a merchant going above and planning to quit once away. Between staying alive and their plans to escape to where there are no true castes, the dusters don't care much about what surfacers do as long as they pay in sovereigns.” She looked very pleased at the slowly progressing change.
“So, I'm just another human merc?”
Grinning she admitted, “Most of us can't keep track of your family names, they don't work like proper clan names. A lot of humans and elves only have one name, like they're so special they don't even need a clan. Now Anders' name may be common further north, but he made impressions on Voldrik and that idiot Dworkin. Dworkin passed through here a few years ago, hiding from the Qunari, so stories of Anders have made it to our bars from Dworkin alone. Dwarva swallow up most any stories about the Warden-Commander, which also include Anders, but I don't think too many know her name either.”
Well. I'd heard once in a while while I was young of other people named Hawke from different towns, even a thug from Gwaren with a nasty, dark reputation. If it didn't work out, the Deep Roads were handy here for escape. “Then calling me Champion seems the thing to avoid then, and just use 'Hawke, from Gwaren,' and I'll try to snarl and growl at anyone in public.”
By this time, Paws arrived and greeted me; Sigrun was called to do something official and boring from her tone of voice. I wondered if Anders would follow Paws. Last night's affection was something I would love to get used to.
Without Anders or Sigrun with me, one barrel-chested red-head about my age stopped me and wanted to know what I was doing wandering around in Warden areas. He was sure I wanted to steal their secrets, as if I wanted them. Maybe he was hoping to extort something else from me from his tone. He followed me around as I looked for Anders, him complaining at me the whole time. I got irritated after a few minutes, and wanted to tell him what he could do with himself.
Anders was in the common room with the tome he'd found when I entered with muck-brain trailing me like a bad odor.
He saw that I was pissed and asked sharply, “Why are you bothering my guest?”
“She shouldn't be wandering around, poking into Warden secrets.” Reluctantly, the man added, “Senior Warden.”
“Have you been assigned to watch for intruders? She's been killing darkspawn since Ostagar. How many emissaries have you destroyed?” Anders' voice had gotten dry, though the sarcasm was clear.
The idiot plainly didn't believe that and sputtered stupid reasons. His excuses started with my not being a Warden and slid into comments about Anders' large reputation as a lover in Amaranthine. And that all those he'd bedded were worthless, spies, or good for only one thing.
He wasn't even clever in his insults.
What all his excuses really meant was that he was more important now that he was a Grey Warden; he wanted to enjoy that feeling, like Templars, nobles, and blood mages did. I was getting angry and ignored the sounds of movement from the doorway. Paws had, and I trusted his judgment.
The next insult came like a door slam to my patience when he said I hadn't earned Celebrant. I'd earned it twice: once in combat, and before that when I was made the newest Champion. Maybe my glare made him happy as he finished with saying I'd earned it on my back or stolen it.
Silence rang for an eternity. Sure, I'd earned and stolen things, but I'd bled for my victories, all of them. That sword was mine, and anyone who wanted to take it forcibly would bleed first. I realized in a strange way I thought of it as Carver's blade.
“Won it from fighting a couple of revenants on a mountain. Do you want to try your luck, you ass?” I stepped closer, poised to go for my daggers.
Anders sounded alarmed that my words had intensified. “Love...”
“Don't worry, this won't take long, he reminds me of that ogre outside Lothering. Except the ogre may have been brighter.” I doubted he'd live long in the Deep Roads if his pride was this inflated.
The fool managed to bristle more, but his insults to my skill and sexual tastes got less understandable even if the tone was still very clear.
“Ednund.” This was spoken by a glacial voice that held no humor. Sigrun wasn't smiling now, and beside her another dwarf looked out of breath. “Anders is your sworn brother, she is his guest and partner. Grey Wardens don't get to pull the same crap as my folk about dueling.”
“I'll prove the bitch doesn't deserve to be in our hall.” Ednund wasn't listening.
Summoning a tiny smile that had no humor, I asked Sigrun, “Do you have a hall large enough for this? I doubt you want to let outsiders see your idiot.”
“I hear every surface village has one,” she replied.
Anders had stepped close enough to grip my arm and look at me searchingly.
I shook my head. I didn't care about my reputation, Varric had been the source of most of mine. What I did care about was that he treated a stranger as if they were dirt. Ednund would have said much the same things if any others came here. He wanted to humiliate, to make himself bigger. What was dismaying was for me to realize was Wardens could be asses too. I would teach him to not assume.
As I didn't back down, I followed the Wardens to a cavern. Sigrun laid out some simple rules and we started.
It was quick as I kept him off balance most of the time. He contributed his great skill at flailing around and bellowing. He wasn't afraid until I had him down with a knife at his throat and a knee next to his brains.
“Guess you don't deserve to be in the Warden's hall either, if a whore can beat you like this.” Shifting my heavily armored knee without moving the knife, even just my weight was enough to make him shriek. I knocked him out a second or so after.
Anders arrived and cupped my cheek for a second to look at me closely again, before he checked Ednund for injuries. Other Wardens had drifted in before and during the bout, and I noticed they were almost all dwarves and elves; none looked upset at the outcome. When he was done with Ednund, Anders hauled me back to our room.
“Love, he wasn't a real threat to you. He isn't supposed to do that, to hurt non-Warde...” Anders stumbled to a stop and flushed as he realized what he was saying.
I sighed, as this wasn't just me. It never was. “No, but did you see the other Wardens? They weren't there because they wanted me to win, they were there to see him lose. They were following those 'supposed to' rules about him being a brother.” My blood was boiling like it usually was after a fight and my mind raced with the focus brought from combat. I realized another thing, that he hadn't noticed that I always went for this kind of abuser when I could.
My eyes prickled with tears even if I was so angry. “How long have you missed this about me, Anders? Asses like him attack anyone they think is worth less than them. I smack them all.”
Had he ever even noticed that I helped not just mages, even if I helped them the most? I wanted to shout, to break something from my anger. I knew he felt for others, but I fought for them too. In the instant after I said this, I wanted to hit him again, like right after Kirkwall. I... would not, and then swung around, tossing a couple of daggers at a wardrobe as hard as I could. They sank deep.
A hand gripped my shoulder and turned me towards him. His face fallen, Anders put both arms around me tentatively and spoke, full of worry. “Love, no. I always knew you fought for others, even when I argued against it. First I was worried you'd get hurt just now. I only... then I remembered how the Warden insisted we weren't to bother non-Wardens, unless they attacked us. I... we haven't done any better than Ednund.”
I put my arms around him, and I wasn't quite sure which of us was leaning more on the other. Laying my cheek against his chest my heart finally started to slow now that the fight was over. I managed to mumble, “I can make a list of how you are better, but I don't know if making your head swell will help.”
Hearing me, he sighed and relaxed only a little. “I worry when I can't help you. I don't want you to die, especially from some stupid arse.”
I looked up into his eyes. This Warden wasn't the real argument. “I won't be alone in the Proving. Sigrun is experienced too and we don't want you or Merrill revealed by your magic if we can avoid it. I've fought many dwarves, from Bartrand's to the Carta's.”
“I know non-magical healing too; all the battles at the Vigil gave me plenty of experience before I arrived in Kirkwall... I can still do that kind of healing. I have to be close, love.” His eyes were earnest and worried.
His words would have been more fun if he was being more seductive, but he had an unfortunate habit of saying odd things when he was upset. Wriggling against him, I cupped his cheek and asked, “What was that last sentence again?”
Like one of those abandoned mine cars all around Kirkwall, Anders got stuck for an instant. Then his eyes darkened and he reached for the belts of my armor. His tone of voice was much more satisfying when he repeated himself. “I have to be close, love.”
“Fine with me.” Meaning both for our talk and for now, but I got distracted too.
Later he brushed sweaty hair off my face, he told me, “I am going to be near, and I will not promise anything about saving your life.”
“Okay, I don't really want to die. Just try not to be obvious about it.” I wanted a nap right then and had a feeling of disappointment compared to the night before that I didn't understand.
<hr>
It took several more days for Sigrun to be satisfied with her negotiations for prizes and bets, and the Proving would be the next day. Sigrun and I had a practice bout with a few of the newer Wardens, though not that Ednund. It went well, and I was feeling confident for the match. Anders seemed to be feeling better about it as well even if he never got quite as cuddly as our first night here.
The pomp and tradition weighed much more than when I was in the audience. Some from both sides had a moment to examine the ground of the arena. I was looking at the stands and the audience, almost all dwarves, were roaring for the fight to start. The only times before that I'd fought with onlookers, was while we fought the Arishok under the eyes of the nobility, and mad Meredith in front of her own men. This time I had the chance to absorb it and feel almost nauseous.
Big Paws nosed my leg; he looked happy and I scratched his ears.
Both sides pronounced the grounds clear of traps. Anders was in his leather armor and smiling slightly when he spoke for us to the Proving Master. He stopped smiling when all non-combatants were being removed from the arena.
“There's a box, close by the judges but off the floor, Sparklefingers. Then you can watch with other Wardens, or you can stay in the waiting area during the bouts. We'll get to rest there between rounds, where those in the stands can't see us or get to us. It's your choice.”
He closed his eyes and asked, “Which is closer?”
“The waiting area.”
With one glare at me, he turned and marched towards the waiting area. I almost hoped he'd have some of the ale. No, the ale down here was bad. I sent Paws to guard him, just in case.
The first bout wasn't that much of a problem for Sigrun and I. Three warriors with axes or swords, two in very bulky and expensive armor, the third was less so and had black tattoos like Sigrun's. They'd practically chewed on their armor or shield in the last moments before the match began.
And then their rage exploded as they waved their huge weapons and charged to attack. As much as wrath controlled rage demons they knew little of tactics and went for Sigrun first. Tossing a flask at them to stun them, Sigrun tumbled back and missed it. It didn't work for very long but they lost their momentum and they were more wary of me now.
They seemed annoyed that I hadn't even used the blade still on my back, but daggers instead. Guess their mothers hadn't told them as often to never assume. They wanted to rage again, but we never let them have the time and took them out quickly as the crowd roared.
“I think they figured out that you aren't a warrior,” Sigrun said with a grin as we moved to the waiting room.
“It's the spiky parts of my armor. I think it confuse...” I stepped into the room and found I was an armful for my mage as he tried to squeeze the breath out of me. “...air.”
He let go, enough for me to speak freely again and checked for injuries. “Thank the Maker.”
Sigrun grinned, “You can thank me, too. I appreciate it, you see.”
“I'll thank you when this is over, Sigrun.” Anders growled that at Sigrun through my hair.
Taking a drink and pacing a little, she noted, “Let her drink something, Anders. The other matches should be fine too.”
Pulling his head back from me, he even had a glare in his voice when he said, “Don't feed me that. I heard all about Provings from Oghren, the Commander, and even you.”
I pulled away with a last squeeze, so I could find some water.
“There's Provings, and then there are Provings. Right now there's no other kinds of unrest and an empty throne. I only agreed to matches with teams with better reputations.” Sigrun explained yet again. Her patience over the last days was admirable, though she was initially amused at Anders' protective behavior.
Regardless of his fears, in a very few minutes we heard the deep clang summoning us back to the sandy arena. I left the great sword with him and Anders was bemused to have a great sword to watch over. I stifled a laugh as I left.
The second match was also quick as another trio approached us more warily than the first. The crowd was much more distracting this time, and the battle against them took longer. This group stayed back to back, making it much harder for us to get a good hit without taking punishing counterattacks. One was a dual wielder and nipped behind me once. It took an age, but we whittled them down, because their grenades never got us both and ours got them.
I felt like I was staggering as I almost fell into our waiting room to be greeted by Anders and Paws, both. I could feel him healing me while Paws tried to knock me down. “Good boy. See, I'm fine” I told him as I scratched his furry belly. Anders was looking at me and my mabari enviously, so I asked him. “You want me to scratch your belly, too?”
“Now that you mention it, that would be much better than waiting in here for that damned bell to mark the end.” He was very disgruntled, but stepped closer.
I pulled off one gauntlet and slid my fingers under his leather to scratch his stomach. He was nearly purring for a second, and looked much less irritated.
“Very cute, for humans,” Sigrun said. “I didn't realize that you became your own kitten, Sparklefingers. But she needs to replenish water badly between matches.”
“I'll get it.” Anders sounded a little better, and got another sealed bottle we'd brought with us.
It really wasn't very long until the rest ended, and I was feeling tired this time.
The other team didn't look tired, nor did they even look like they'd battled yet today. As we walked in, I muttered to Sigrun, “The odds better have been really good this time.”
“They were.” Her voice didn't show as much of her bravado as before. “We could have gotten better if we'd been more willing to fight to the death, but when I go to the Stone, I'm going to do the Legion proud. They don't think much of this shit, though the First Warden admits it's helpful to attract some for the Joining. Human and ehlvan Wardens who fight here remind the deshyrs that dwarva are not the only ones to fight the spawn.”
“The humans are the ones who forget,” the Proving Master said bitterly on hearing the last, with the other team also waiting.
“I haven't forgotten,” I insisted. “My brother died in the blight; my sister is a Warden. The last darkspawn I fought on the surface was only weeks ago.”
“Can you vouch for this, Warden?” The doubting dwarven warrior asked Sigrun.
“She has worked with several Wardens, and a different Warden has vouched for her.” Sigrun sounded a little smug as she said this, though her face was without expression.
Another of our opponents began to laugh, and pointed at me. “She is practically in the Warden clan already, or did you lie before this, Commander?”
“I'm no Warden, I have responsibilities.” I almost spoke of my visits into the Deep Roads, but stopped just in time.
“Then let us begin,” our one opponent said with a mocking and nasty salute. “Wardens are like the Legion and worthy of respect, but you...”
The Proving Master announced the match's start. This one was harder, not just from the group being five this time. Two had crossbows, and while they couldn't load them nearly as fast or accurately as Varric. The warriors tried to corner us and they nearly accomplished this several times before I realized that even the glancing blows from the crossbows had a poison that was slowing my perceptions.
It was taking too long to take the second archer down as he'd gotten stealthy and I lost track of him. Sigrun was keeping the two remaining warriors busy, though she was bleeding too much and one arm was held awkwardly as she knocked one down. I threw down a grenade to cloud the largest area around me, as I planned to go into stealth. Even as I did, I felt a dragon kick my chest.
The force of the bolt knocked me back a few feet, and through the swirl of mists I could see only the fetching of a bolt sticking out just below my ribs. I couldn't feel my legs and wanted to shout for Anders...
Still barely on my feet, I went into stealth and staggered out of the mists. There was the archer, looking at where I'd been. Only a few steps and I stabbed him, not caring that much if it was disabling or fatal.
Dizzy now, I turned a little as my knees folded and saw Sigrun was stabbing the last warrior.
The cavern ceiling wasn't really flat at all, not like a proper roof. The crowd in the arena got silent for a moment and I heard Paws howl.
Even as the dwarves got silent, one familiar voice was saying from above, “...eah, that's the Champion of Kirkwall. At least I made some of the sodding money back I lost on guards around her.”
<hr>
A/N: The chapter title is taken from a quote by Mark Twain.
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A Match to Tinder