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Dark Game	By : TropicalFool Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 1903 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BioWare or EA characters, any aspect of Dragon Age, locations, plots or anything else--they do-- and I make no money from this story, more's the pity.

Chapter List
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The training ground set up in the bailey was crowded, noisy and frenetic with activity, but all ceased as the Warden Commander was spotted, until he nodded his head for them to carry on. What was it like to have such power, Anders wondered? It didn't seem to be something that Random craved or even wanted, but rather accepted with grace.
Random was scanning the straining warriors, stopping here or there to talk quietly with a commander.
"She's not here," he said, turning to Anders.
"Uh, no," Anders replied, standing on tiptoe for a better view.
Random's disapproval was clear. A warrior would train at every opportunity, further refining her skills. There was little enough time between battles or raids. "Get her," he grunted.
Anders nodded, praying that T'herendalin was in her rooms. He didn't want to say anything, but she liked to wander the castle in the mornings, before the nobles were quite awake, and eavesdrop. He had caught her at it once, and then it had become a game with them, Anders joining in enthusiastically, learning how to sneak up unobserved for a bit of juicy gossip.
Of course, she wasn't in her rooms, so he would have to find her. He roamed the halls, more and more frantic, asking every guard, everyone he came across, if they had seen her. He turned a corner too fast and almost collided with an armored knight, who, not recognizing him, growled, "Out of my way, mage," giving him a firm thrust to the chest.
As Anders stumbled back, two small hands closed over his eyes and a familiar soft voice whispered in his ear, "Guess who?"
Anders turned and grabbed T'herendalin, weak with relief. "The Commander wants you. On the training grounds. Now. And he's angry. Come!" He grabbed her hand and started to run down the hall, but she quickly shook herself free.
Placing her hands on her hips she yelled "Stop!" Several guards came round the corner to see what was wrong, but Anders waved them back. " I will NOT be dragged down the hallways at anyone's behest. If the Commander wants me on the training grounds, so he shall have me. But in due time and with dignity. Now buck up. He can't really be that terrifying. He's only one man." Anders just rolled his eyes, shuddered, a little too dramatically, and lead the way.
Random was pacing when they finally showed. Pacing was not good. Anders tried to push T'herendalin along a little faster, but she maintained a stately pace, taking time to look about her.
Meanwhile, Random had turned his back and, slapping the sword he had strapped to his side, walked away, only to turn again before T'herendalin had reached him.
His eyes pure ice, his jaw set, Random growled, "I see that you took your time reaching me. I hope that you enjoyed the excursion. It may be your last. I will not be toyed with, certainly not by some failed Antivan assassin and purported pirate."
Bowing her head despite her rage, T'herendalin said as meekly as she could manage, "I am sorry my lord. I didn't know that I was wanted."
At this Random rushed her, he face inches from hers and so low she could hardly make out the words, said with deadly menace, "You knew when Anders found you, in some lesser noble's bed I'll warrant, or do your tastes run lower than that? You knew, and yet you come sauntering out here as if you were on a stroll in a meadow with your lover, taking your time, ignoring poor Anders trying to hurry you. Do you think that everyone did not see this. That I had commanded your presence, yet you defied me, not in deed, but in demeanor. You have undone in minutes a discipline that I have been working months to engender in these troops. I should just slit your silly throat now and be done with it!"
Let him try, T'herendalin prayed. She had not been spoken to like this since her first Crow trial. The trial where she had slain twenty of her friends and comrades to advance. The deaths were not strictly necessary, but it was the quickest way to move up the ranks. Let this arrogant elf try her and he would find out what fighting really was. No clumsy darkspawn she. Perhaps she would slay him and become Commander in his stead. Yes, that had a certain appeal.
Random turned away as she was contemplating going for her own blade and she felt a deathly cold descend on her. She couldn't move, not at all. She had been ensorcelled, damn it! She had been so intent in her anger that she hadn't even thought to put up a mental resistance. But the elf wasn't a mage, was he? But Anders was…
Anders stepped in front of her and put his head to one side. "A rather lovely effect," he said. "You'll be free soon. Just about in the time it takes you to cool off, I hope. You were very very close to dying there. You may not believe it. I could see it in you. You actually thought that you could take him. You'll learn, given time, if you don't die first, and I sincerely hope you don't, therefore my little intervention. Forgive me."
As Anders stepped away she could see Random sitting on a barrel smiling at her. Well he might smile, with his little tame mage in tow. So, he was willing to hide behind the skirts of Anders' robe, was he? She would show him that an Antivan Crow Elite was worth any two Grey Warden Commanders, including him.
As she felt her limbs thawing and feeling coming back into her finger tips, Random came forward and held out a sword and dagger to her. They were very fine weapons in beautiful repair, sharp and gleaming. The feeling returned as she reached out and took them. The balance was exquisite and the grips firm in her hands.
His own weapons were in their sheaths, but he drew them as he stepped back. "We fight to the death. Without armor," he said. "When you are ready."
The grounds had been silenced, but now Anders heard cries and shouts of dismay, whether for the Commander or T'herendalin or both he had no idea. Others shouted encouragement, and not all of it was for the Commander. There was still resentment in the ranks over some of his harsher decisions. But "to the death." Surely Random couldn't mean that, surely he wouldn't execute T'herendalin for so minor an infraction? For Anders had no doubt of the outcome.
Anders realized that he was terrified. He loved Random and adored T'herendalin. Even if Random won, which he would, this could be the end of his career as Warden Commander and possibly the end of his life. It was beyond the pale to challenge anyone, let alone a new recruit who didn't know the rules, for an infraction this minor. It was pure arrogance and madness.
It seemed that hours had passed, though Anders realized it could be only minutes, when T'herendalin made a feint. Random did not move. He recognized it for what it was, a distraction to draw his response. The Commander seemed perfectly relaxed, as did T'herendalin. The mark of superb swordsmen, no tension anywhere until it was needed to deliver a devastating blow.
They stood like this for some time, neither willing to make the first move. To do so was a weakness unless that blow could be made to land and cause a critical injury. T'herendalin held her weapons en garde, while Random let his dangle at his side. That pose had cost many a bandit his life. It was a deadly trap. But he could see that T'herendalin was not decieved.
Suddenly swords and knives where cleaving the air, too fast to see. They rang out in a melody of destruction as Anders saw a small foot come round in a blur directly at Random's head. If it had connected, he had no doubt it would have broken Random's neck, despite the heavy muscling there. But it didn't connect and, amazingly the miss seemed to cost T'herendalin no loss of balance. The wild dance of steel continued then stillness. Both T'herendalin's weapons were caught between Random's. Neither could move without freeing the other.
Random gave a giant shove, sending T'herendalin flying back, then, his weapons free, once more dropped them to his side relaxed. The Crow did not even have to regain her balance. She landed with perfect poise, the sword and dagger crossed before her. She was now some ten feet or more from Random.
Anders could almost see her mind working, considering, evaluating, rejecting, tactics. He had absolutely no idea what Random was thinking. He didn't want to know; he suspected that they were dark thoughts indeed. It was a miracle that no blood had yet been drawn. Both fighters seemed unscratched despite having been sheathed in whirling metal moments before.
The problem for the fighters now was how to close the gap between them. Someone would have to make a move forward, and in that move be vulnerable. Or they would just all stand out here until the darkspawn came to get them. The image amused Anders and he almost chuckled, but he had a feeling that that would be the death of one of the people before him. The slightest distraction was all that it would take.
T'herendalin danced forward. There was no other word for the graceful move. Then she more quickly danced back. Again she had failed to draw Random. He merely stood, seeming to ignore her.
She continued this dance, forward and back, forward and back, accelerating until she seemed in both places at once, then continued forward to and past Random, twirling close behind him and letting her dagger flash out. But he was no longer there. Anders blinked. It just wasn't possible. Not without magic. Maybe not with. She had moved so fast, so unexpectedly. But Random was now facing her, just out of the reach of her blades, looking at her with his head cocked in thought.
T'herendalin was panting now. All of that activity had cost her. She still held her blades at ready, but the sword quivered ever so slightly. Random caught the movement and smiled. A smile that Anders hoped to never see again. If death were made flesh it would wear that smile.
Despite herself, T'herendalin knew that she was tiring. She had never had a duel go on this long before. Always her opponent was lying at her feet long before this. She had used her best move. It had never failed her before, which was good, since it drained her strength and endurance.
But he had said "to the death" the arrogant beast, and she believed him. There would be no surrender. Fine, if she was going to go down, she would go down fighting. She steeled herself for death. She would no longer defend, no longer have concern for injury or worse, just inflict as much damage as possible before she fell. And perhaps in her desperation she would get lucky. Perhaps in throwing it all away the Maker would look down on her and grant her a last moment of grace.
She calmed herself, slowing her breathing and heartbeat. She seemed to have plenty of time; Random had yet to make a move towards her. She marshaled her every resource of body and spirit. Calling upon all of her training. Calling to the Maker and the ancient gods of the elves. Then she leapt.
Anders' mouth fell open as T'herendalin appeared to fly into the air, she just kept going up and up. She seemed to hover, then turning in mid air dropped directly at Random, her deadly blades aimed. Random stepped aside and tossed her to the ground, knocking both blades from her hands. Anders closed his eyes. He just couldn't watch. He felt as if it was his life that was ending there in the dirt and sand.
Random slammed T'herendalin into the ground hard and placed his foot on her neck, his sword point hovering above her heart.
He was cutting off T'herendalin's air, crushing her neck, and it was difficult to speak, but she croaked out, "Finish it. I will not beg. I will not give you that satisfaction. Just…" She choked and coughed, and the boot moved down a bit further causing T'herendalin's small body to convulse. "Finish…" was all she could now squeak out.
Random laughed. Anders eyes shot open. This was horrible. More horrible then he could imagine. He'd won, why didn't Random just finish her? Why torment her. And, oh Maker!, why laugh? It was brutal and pointless. He was tempted to throw a spell at her and end it mercifully.
Suddenly turning his head, Random caught Anders eye and gave a quick shake no. He'd realized what was about to happen and warned Anders off.
T'herendalin's breathing was shallow and ragged now. She was clearly strangling. Oh Maker's mercy, let her die quickly, was all Anders could think.
Then Random removed his foot and threw the sword aside, reaching his hand down to T'herendalin, all with the same preternatural quickness he had shown in the duel. T'herendalin was close to losing consciousness, but she gritted her teeth and reached for the proffered hand. Random easily brought her to her feet and steadied her with surprising gentleness.
"Not bad, recruit," he said. "You'll do. You report to me now… personally. Anders, I think your friend could use some healing." With that, he handed T'herendalin to Anders and walked away, leaving both weapons in the dirt.
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Dark Game