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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
Anders:
I studied a book I'd found on healing without magic and took notes while Hawke was away, though Merrill had gone inside the mountain to look at a litter of nugs. I wasn't sure if she realized they were raised as food or she wanted a pet. I doubted they were good pets with the low opinions of them.
Hawke got back with a young man who must have Joined recently. I could barely feel the taint in him. With encountering more Wardens than I had in years, I realized that I could now feel how far their taint had advanced, in a way akin to disease or poison in my patients. Sigrun had the most, of course, and most of the rest were far less. I didn't quite feel my own the same way as in Ednund. That young fool followed Hawke through the outpost, but Hawke's irritation was funny. Then I saw they were spinning rapidly into to a fight, which alarmed me as Wardens aren't supposed to fight non-Wardens.
I'd hoped Sigrun would put a stop to it, but she led them to a practice chamber and let them fight. Why was Hawke doing this? One arse wasn't that important. I watched the bout, worried when I realized that Ednund was almost as big as a Qunari and Hawke looked so small. I'd never had the leisure to notice the difference in sizes during a fight, but now I had to watch. And do nothing.
She'd won and I was relieved, but I did not like that she was taking risks like this that weren't necessary.
We had to talk.
And we did.
Back in our room, it became an argument which I liked even less. I did not want her to risk harm for unimportant things. The foolish boy was unimportant.
But not to Hawke, and an old worry came back to roost: that she was a Champion and I could lose her to other people's demands. All those stupid tasks and problems that took her away from me. I should have had constant nightmares of Varric or even Aveline bringing me the news that she had died, if it wasn't for my lack of dreaming since Justice. So, I made sure I was able to accompany her on her tasks, even over Justice's rumblings.
I didn't want to lose her now, even to my own fears. I had to convince her that I supported her, no matter what, even if I thought something was a stupid risk.
Even as we made up, I wasn't convinced she believed me. I was that pathetically desperate.
The days until the Proving got to be wearing. Justice grew less pleasant, but I couldn’t afford to be in a drunken lyrium haze before, or worse, during their Proving. Finally the prizes and betting were settled to Sigrun's satisfaction. I wasn't as satisfied as they were, even after practice sessions with younger wardens including a more respectful Ednund.
The preliminaries almost made me want to scream: formal announcements as representatives from each team checked the sandy grounds for any sabotage. I poked the sands cautiously like I was feeling for something; I was, but I was feeling for magic. I only felt some very old traces, maybe from the lyrium that was more precious and dangerous than mere gems. I was happy to tell the sour Proving Master that it appeared clear, but not as happy when I realized that meant the fight was about to start.
I was escorted off the arena grounds. I wasn't happy that I couldn't watch and be close to heal, so I chose healing. Her mabari was sent off too. If a dog could look frantic with worry, Paws did.
Then came the agony of waiting. The only good thing was that Justice was quiet. I heard some noise from the crowd, but I couldn’t tell how that boded for Hawke and Sigrun. There was some dwarven ale, but when I tasted it, I decided to drink water from my own flask instead.
My wait didn't improve when Paws moved to the door into the arena and started to growl. He turned to look at me, then the door, and then barked a single bark at me.
Even I knew what he wanted this time. “Sorry, old boy. We can't help her.”
Another growl.
“Really! I don't like it either. It's supposed to be mostly practice, not to the death...” I felt kind of stupid to be talking like this to a dog. Ser Pounce and Ser Mew were much more dignified, they just napped in my room.
Paws ruffed, but I didn't know what that meant. Then he sat by the door and seemed to be listening.
I fidgeted with my staff, retying the leather ribbons and fur that hid the sigils. The crowd began to roar, and then Paws stood up before the door opened from the other side.
Hawke! was my only thought before I nearly ran to hold her even if she was still speaking. Then she couldn't speak for a moment. I could pretend that I was checking her for injuries, but I didn't even do that right away.
It seemed much too short a time until the deep bell rang for the second match. That went much the same as the first for me, aside from Paws standing right behind me as if he wanted to push me towards the door bodily.
The second time she returned to the waiting area, we very nearly knocked her down. They were more injured again, but not life threatening. Hawke and Sigrun looked so much more tired this time, and I couldn't even make myself remember how many rounds the Warden said they did for her Proving during the Blight. It had been more than two, but I hadn't paid enough attention.
Paws, the shameless creature that he was, rolled over for a belly scratch. I was protected and hampered in the damned leather armor, when Hawke knelt down to scratch his belly...
Her next belly scratch made me smile, especially when she found that spot where the dart in the leather was irritating sometimes. I decided to look away and ignore how much I probably resembled the slobbering beast with my first sigh.
A little bit later the bell rang for the last match. Hawke and Sigrun were tired now, even if I'd healed all their injuries. Hawke looked grim again, not her cheerful optimism like before the other two matches.
To the Void with not watching. I cracked the door out into the grounds, at least enough to see. Paws nosed at the door but that shut it. That got me another glare from a dog.
“No, we're not supposed to watch this, so we can't open the door more.” I could see that he didn't wag his tail at that.
When I peeked through the door slit, I saw one of the other dwarves give a sloppy, mocking salute, but Hawke and Sigrun didn't react.
I found that watching the match wasn't much better than my ignorance of the other matches. It was five against two, and I was finding it harder to not interfere when it seemed they were losing. It was getting hard to tell what was happening with smoke grenades being used. I wondered how well the audience could see that the other team was not being very careful about keeping this nonlethal.
Gripping my staff in my hands, I wanted to stride out there and blast these opponents and stop them from hurting my Hawke. It would be easy. Then I could gently heal her, the pain a forgotten Fade-dream. But I couldn't do that, or negate all the blood and pain Hawke and Sigrun had already endured for our goals; I had to wait.
Watching the fight, I saw that the dwarven archers were using poison on their arrows. I wasn't sure which poison from this distance, but I noticed both Hawke and Sigrun were slowing. They hadn't noticed nor went after the archers. I wanted to shout a warning to Hawke, but that would distract her even more. Three of their opponents were out of the fight and Sigrun injured, when Hawke finally noticed and swore.
I didn't know if it was in time. A concealing cloud appeared around her to my relief, when I heard the sound and cry from a crossbow bolt hitting target. I hated it, but I almost hoped she'd fall and end the match, so I could run out there sooner.
No body fell to the ground, but my heart was in my throat. Hawke appeared and finished the archer, and I saw the bolt still in her as she stumbled along. I couldn't heal her until I removed it.
The mabari was pushing at the door and I pushed back against him. “Don't knock me over, blast it!”
Hawke fell and rolled to her back. She looked too much like a corpse as Sigrun finished their last opponent.
Some official stepped forward, but I didn't care. I shoved the door open and ran over to Hawke. She was barely conscious and smiled at me; then she started mouthing something, but I wasn't interested in whatever foolish thing she wanted to say while she bled. I would stop her bleeding first.
I spilled my bandages and supplies out, and ignored the sounds washing around the cavern. After I fed her a potion to stabilize her, I spared enough attention to heal Sigrun a little after assessing both rogues' injuries.
“Thanks, Warden,” Sigrun said gruffly. “I guess I get to live, still. Funny how that keeps happening to me.”
I looked at her, annoyed. “Just because you're dead or still seeking death, doesn't mean I want that for Dera.”
“Calm down, duster. Look in a mirror sometime when you speak of seeking death. I'm not the one who was wearing all black.” Sigrun spoke quietly enough, despite her chiding.
I looked away, wondering if I should remake my robes again.
Then I noticed that the mabari was carefully licking Hawke's face.
She was going to be washed as soon as I was done healing. Slobber.
Healing Hawke, at least enough for her to leave on her own feet would take a few minutes. Doing the surgery on the bolt quickly was tricky enough, as ripping it out would make the damage worse. Before I was done, she tried craning her head and looking around.
“Hold still, Love. Or I might accidentally heal your nose on crooked.”
She stopped and stuck her tongue out at me. “I thought I heard someone, someone with a familiar voice just as you got here.”
I finally noticed the many sounds of dwarva talking, bragging, and of course, arguing. Most were above us, but at least a dozen were on the sands, examining the bodies of the losers. I was fairly sure most of their spirits had gone to the stone, or whatever they believed now.
After some careful stretches, Sigrun suggested, “We should finish up with the potions and bandaging in our waiting room. Can you carry her?”
In answer, I stood and helped Hawke carefully to her feet. Some voices raised in approval carried to us as we made our cautious way back out. Hawke leaned on me, even after we were in a private space again, so I lay her on a bench to double check. Then I checked Sigrun.
Once they were as healthy as magic could do in a short time, I sat back. I was trying to figure out a way to give them an ultimatum, but couldn't figure a way to say it without getting one or both mad at me. I looked at Paws, but that only made me realize how desperate I was for an idea.
Sigrun grinned at us. “We should get the winnings tomorrow, once the betting and prize money settle.”
“I could have sworn I heard that nuisance, Javaris... Javaris Slowtop? No, that's not right. That merchant who pretty much caused the Qun attack with his scheming.” Hawke's face was cross as she thought.
“Tintop,” I said at the same time as Sigrun. I turned to her to find out how she knew him.
“If this is the same waste of clean air, he's sloppy. He's got merchant and mining clans angry with him now, but one of the warrior clans has to be secretly funding him, even if he claims no real clan.” Sigrun looked and sounded disgusted. “He also has at least a dozen dusters angry, casteless guards that he refused to pay as they had no one to enforce any dispute.”
“That sounds like him, he's a bad employer,” Hawke agreed. “The idiot could not believe that the Qun were not going to sell him their explosive, secret weapon.”
Sigrun laughed at that. “I know that type. So he's hiding here where the Qun can't follow.”
The topic was making me uneasy, as the Qun might hunt me too as I hadn't died to secure their recipe from humans. “I'm not sure they'd even look for him. They considered him like a diseased rat, not something to waste time on.”
“Trouble is, he's here and he knows us by name, Anders.” Hawke looked worried. “How much do you think it will cost for someone to buy news on us from him? He might give it away, since he blames me for not getting him the gaatlock recipe and losing him all those profits.”
I knew he'd happily sell the recipe to the Chantry and Orlais, which could not be good for mages. The Chantry could annul a tower on a whim. I wasn't going to spread the recipe, as I didn't trust the Javarises out there. If I could, I'd ensure the Qun forgot their recipe too. “Yes, we should leave.”
Rubbing her hands, Sigrun smiled. “This should be fun. I'll take care of him if he's been a nuisance here and worse on the surface... I'll make it a training exercise.”
I hurried Hawke back to our room, past an excited Merrill who had been up in the audience. We had to to rest and wait for a departure I hadn't expected to be so soon. Once there I hustled Hawke out of her armor, leaving it in a pile for tomorrow and double checked for even small injuries before dragging her over to a tub.
I'd wanted this all day, but once Dera slid into the bath, the steam rising almost made me think she was an apparition and she'd melt away if I tried to touch her. It had been so close today, so close in Kirkwall. Some occasions since then I wished desperately for Varric, Aveline, or even help from Fenris in a fight; these were getting more frequent than I liked.
Hawke ended my hesitation by pulling me into the water with a splash.
All I could sputter was, “Don't do that again.”
“You can dry it, can't you?” Dera smirked as she quickly helped me out of the last of my armor. “I almost expected you to hiss like a cat when I...”
“Don't fight without me,” I said before kissing her. “Don't fight to entertain. Don't fight for money.”
She stopped squirming, even if I didn't mind that at all, before she spoke flatly. “I'm not sure I can promise all that. I can promise to try to avoid all three.”
A shadow of unhappiness flickered over her face and I realized that I'd spoiled her victory. As soon as I righted myself in the tub, I pulled her close again and said, “I'm sorry, Love. That was a wonderful victory by you and Sigrun. I should have said that first, but I was so worried, especially once I spotted the poison. Even your hound was trying to get through the door.”
At first a brief smile appeared, but then she looked over to the mabari who was dozing beside the bed. Dera started to speak, paused, and then paused again. “It seemed like a good idea and a way to get money without the Deep Roads. I'm not much of a hunter and don't have any skills I can trade to help sustain us over winter, especially once we lose Merrill's skills. I don't think I could become an assassin for pay and I don't have any skills to sell.”
Were things that desperate? I didn't think so, but she'd taken care of money for years and it would ruin our efforts to remain hidden if I traded healing as I used to do. “We'll find some quiet place for the winter.” I could feel a rumble from within, but I was already planning my next sentence. “Let's try the lyrium and wine again to celebrate? I don't want to think about what we'd get if we hired some dancers for our celebration; all that brings to mind is one warden who would stumble across the hall as if it was a pattern dance and never spill a drop until he retched out his ale. We'll celebrate with just us.”
--- x ---
I was hung over again in the morning, though my spirit was almost humming with contentment. Hawke didn't show as much contamination this time. After healing her and cleaning up, we waited. Merrill and I compared finds from the books collected by wardens and left here. The winnings were delivered in pieces to Sigrun, and it seemed like a lot and not enough. It took all day; the dwarves didn't really care about sunset on the surface, so we didn't leave until the following morning.
Sigrun brought the last of our winnings after we'd eaten breakfast and Mew was purring on me as I sat reading.
“Here it is, Anders. The last of our winnings was surrendered, that was the most profitable Proving I've been in. There were a few whispers about the surface, but I got some of my duster friends working on turning those aside. Tintop is going to find his credit is gonna dry up, sounds like he hasn't kept his membership up in the merchants' guild...” Sigrun's grin was almost evil.
I wasn't convinced he'd manage to finally get himself killed. Here he was limited. But I could not think of a sufficient Warden-scale reason that he should die. Hawke started packing up the last things into our packs and Merrill had already gone outside. Surprising myself, I said, “I think I'll miss you Sigrun. This has been much better than I'd expected when we started looking for some more Gray Wardens.”
She was my oldest friend now and I'd had so few.
“You'll make me blush Sparklefingers. As if that could really show, but I'd know.” Sigrun's grin was bright. Shaking her finger up at me she scolded, “You be more careful, mage. I'm expecting your company for my Calling in twenty years... unless I finish dying before that.”
I darted a look at Hawke, but she wasn't reacting so I hoped she missed that.
In that moment, Sigrun got close enough for a hug. “At least promise that you'll send me a note here once in a while. Make it anonymous if you want; got it, duster?” Her voice wobbled a little.
I had to smile, as I got a little choked too. “Maybe I'll sign them as Oghren and your students will wonder if you've gone insane?”
Hawke was sitting and watching us with a mostly neutral expression and a smile that was both approving and ironic and sad. She didn't say anything, so I wasn't sure if they were being polite or they liked each other.
Sigrun laughed heartily and smacked me. A few more goodbyes and we gathered our packs and left the Gray Warden outpost, skirting around the Circle entrance even if we both looked like greatsword and spear fighters in worn armor.
Leaving Orzammar was harder than most any other departure I could remember. For most of my life, I'd either been fleeing Kinloch's Circle or fleeing only a few steps ahead of even angrier Templars. This was perhaps the first time I had the chance to say goodbye, and it colored my mood for the rest of the day. I was leaving the company of someone who was a friend, even after all the events since we'd met years ago. All the other departures in my life had been far more bitter than sweet. I hadn't realized that I felt fairly safe in the Gray Warden post... until I left it.
The roads were clear, and we passed few travelers for the first day or so. We hurried back down into the lower elevations, as Merrill thought there was a storm coming and we wanted to get below the forest canopy where the winds would be reduced from the mountainsides. We didn't hurry once we were back on the Imperial highway; we traveled shorter days, visiting most inns for a meal or overnight.
As the raised road often had a good view of Lake Calenhad, I was surprised to find myself squinting for a glimpse of Kinloch. Had any I'd known there survived the Blight? Were they still sane? Did they remember me with any fondness? The only ones I knew who might have survived were Jowan and Wynne. Irving was dead, and Cullen gone harsh and embittered from the youth I'd known then. Was anything different for mages or their keepers, now or six months ago?
Looking across the lake couldn't answer those questions.
The plan was for us to spend the last months of the six I'd agreed to in wintering in some remote village with little to no active Chantry presence. I spent time in our room or tent in evenings, often updating a copy of our map with what Hawke or even Merrill learned.
We had a month at most before winter closed most roads aside from the highway. We made our way slowly down along the western side of Lake Calenhad. Frost and the occasional snow stiffened the tent's canvas some mornings.
Silvencoomb was a bit larger than some villages; it had many merchants and a market. It also had a Chantry, but it wasn't quite as large or gaudy as most. I felt obscurely better about that.
Hawke almost seemed to relax as we traveled, even her speech pattern shifted slightly. This was the first town that I saw more than one mabari out with their owners, and so no one even looked twice at Paws. We arrived before the market closed for the day, so Merrill changed direction, saying something about finding a herb or dye dealer. We purchased more dried food and Hawke looked wistfully at the trader with a pile of oddities, from some ratty books to a pitcher and bowl that had been glazed in a bright green. But even with the magic I'd used and components Hawke found for our packs, we didn't have much beyond necessary. Food, our tent, equipment... we couldn't spare room for too many of the oddities Hawke could find. After we finished shopping, we started looking for Merrill and found her chatting with a tall and rangy human who had that air of prosperous merchant.
“I know salt can be used as a binding agent, but I've not been entirely happy with how the dyes are absorbed into the fur, Leond.” Her brow furrowed in thought, Merrill added, “Some people get so scared of deep fur that looks like black and white stripes.”
The man laughed in a pleasing way, “What the buyer doesn't know then, won't hurt him, but...” He stopped suddenly and looked toward Hawke and me.
Then I saw the head of another mabari appear over the edge of the table, and it and Paws seemed to stare at each other for a long moment, making small noises I couldn't quite hear.
Hawke patted her mabari's head, saying quietly, “Paws, settle.”
At the same moment, the merchant seemed to restrain the younger appearing dog by the collar. “Trumps, sit. These are our customers.”
Mew clawed his way forward from his nest on my pack and started to leap forward. What was next would have been hilarious if I wasn't in the middle of it. By the time it was over, half the merchant's table had collapsed and everyone was scratched up and bleeding.
The merchant was on his knees and holding his mabari. Hawke was essentially sitting on Paws. I was bleeding from stuffing Ser Mew into the safety of his basket.
Sweet, innocent Merrill was untouched.
--- x ---
A/N: Chapter title adapted from a quote by Jean Paul Richter. 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