Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Blood Promise	By : Hikari86 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4556 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything Dragon Age. I claim no ownership and make no money/profit.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Tranquility

It was dark, the streets empty. The only noise was that of alley cats as they guarded their territory from rivals. The moon and stars hung high in a black sky, giving the Lowtown market a luminous glow. Out in the open, things could be seen clearly, but the shadows were deeper, easier to hide within.
This was where Jordan and her companions were, hiding in the shadows cast by the Hanged Man as they waited for Donnic to start his patrol. It wasn't long after sunset, when the streets completely emptied did Aveline point out a guard as he walked down from the stairs leading to Hightown, and made his way through the market. They stayed put until he passed by, going all the way to the other side of the tavern before beginning his patrol.
They followed him, still sticking to the shadows and making sure not to attract his attention, or attention from anyone else. It was a slow process as they observed. Donnic made his way up and down the street, occasionally stopping when he heard a noise. He would go to investigate, but only for a moment before he would begin again. It was starting to bore Jordan as she lend against the wall. “Is this all you guards do?” she asked Aveline.
“It's not the most pleasant job,” Aveline yawned. “But it has its benefits.”
“I'm trying to figure out what those might be.” Jordan rubbed her eyes. She hadn't gotten much sleep, blaming the hard, cold floor, and her uncle's snoring since his door was slightly ajar. She checked the time, seeing it was an hour until midnight. If things kept going like they were, then she could leave to join up with Anders. She was looking forward to it, wondering if she should just leave now. It would take some time to get up to Hightown after all.
There was a loud noise, something that sounded like a fight happening in a back alley. They all turned to see Donnic had heard it too. It had came from the alley he was walking by. Aveline edged more out of the shadows to get a better look as Donnic went into the alleyway, becoming covered up in darkness.
“Something doesn't seem right,” she said. Jordan made her way by the warrior's side, feeling something didn't seem right either. She knew that alley he had gone in. There were no other exits, and throughout that whole night that alley had been quiet. Donnic had passed it may times before. Never had they seen anyone enter or leave. The noise put them on edge.
“Look. There!” Bethany cried as she spotted several men slink out of the shadows and make their way into the alley.
“It's a trap!” Aveline bolted from their hiding spot, making a straight line for the alley and the thugs that disappeared within it.
“It's about time,” Jordan muttered as she followed after Aveline.
“Getting anxious there, Hawke?” Varric asked, right behind her.
“I don't like waiting. It's boring.”
Aveline was the first to enter the alleyway, pulling out her sword and shield as soon as she turned the corner. Before Jordan could take out hers, she followed Aveline in to see Donnic on the ground, bloodied and bruised with several thugs looming over him. They were about ready to kill him before Aveline cried and slammed into the group of thugs. Many of them went falling to the ground, taken by surprise from Aveline's sudden appearance.
Jordan quickly stabbed one in the back, shifting to stick Edge in another thug's throat as he tried to flank her. A bolt from Bianca found its way into the head of a thug going after Aveline, while two caught on fire from Bethany's fire spell. Chance ran after a thug who appeared to be carrying the satchel. He tried to run out of the alleyway, but was taken down by the large canine. Chance grabbed onto the thug's throat and shook his head violently, quieting him for good. Wesley's shield pummeled a thug into the wall, Aveline running her sword straight into his gut. She kicked him off and to the ground, spinning with her shield up as she looked around for any more that might wish to attack. There were no more thugs left, all of them having been killed. Seeing all the dead bodies, and making sure no more were coming, Aveline quickly replaced her weapons and went to check on Donnic.
“Donnic! Guardsman, can you hear me?” Aveline shook him gently. His eyes fluttered and when they opened fully, he looked into Aveline's face.
“A-Aveline?” he said quietly. “Is that really you? You're a beautiful sight.”
This made Aveline smile. “Guardsman...” she said, and to Jordan's surprise, sounded somewhat embarrassed.
Donnic's checks grew bright red. He quickly sat up, which made him wince. “I mean... what are you doing here? This isn't your patrol.”
“No, but I had to make sure of something. I had to make sure you weren't going to be killed.”
“I... don't think I understand.”
“No, you wouldn't.” Aveline helped him to his feet. Donnic winced but was able to stand on his own. Bethany then came over and began examining him. At first Donnic wasn't sure what she was doing, but after some reassurance from Aveline, he let her heal him.
“What's going on?” Donnic asked. “Can you try and explain it to me?”
“I will once I take a look at the satchel first. Jordan, have you seen it?”
“Right here, Aveline.” Jordan took the satchel from Chance's mouth. The mabari had been carrying it around after taking down the thug who was trying to run away with it. She then opened it up and looked inside, finding some unusual things. “Well this is interesting. Office details, city accounts. Things that would be very valuable to a guild of thieves.” She tossed the satchel to Aveline who caught it and took a look herself.
“So this is what Jeven has been doing.” Aveline sighed as she looked at the papers. “A sacrificial delivery with one of our own. I will make sure he answers.”
“Wait, you mean there was more in the satchel than just the roster?” Donnic took some of the papers from Aveline. “What does this mean?”
“It means our dear captain has been making deals with the Coterie. That's who these thugs were working for. From my research and from what I've seen tonight, I can now conclude that Captain Jeven has been selling out, and sacrificing weaker guards to do it.”
Donnic stared at her dumbfounded. “You can't be serious?”
“Can you not see it with your own eyes? Those Coterie thugs would not have attacked you if you were just carrying the regular satchel. It's the reason why Captain Jeven was so angry with me for taking Brennan's route. She was the one he was going to sacrifice next.”
“And because you intervened, then I became the next sacrifice.” Donnic didn't look very pleased at the thought. “Thank you, Aveline. I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't have come. I... owe you my life.”
“You... owe me nothing, Guardsman.” Aveline looked away from Donnic. Jordan thought she saw her checks grow red, but she wasn't sure.
“You can owe me, if you want,” Jordan said. “I did help to save your life. The name's Jordan Hawke.”
“Yes, I know your name,” Donnic peered. “How about as payment, I don't arrest you.”
“Gee, that's a wonderful way to say thank you to the person who just saved your life.”
“Ah, yes, I'm sorry. It's just been... a long night. Thank you, Serah Hawke. I will not forget what you did for me tonight.”
“Are you all right to continue your patrol, Guardsman?” Aveline asked. “If not, I am willing to help you.”
“No, I think I should be fine. Thank you, though.” Donnic rubbed the back of his head. “If you need the satchel, though, then go ahead and take it. I'm sure you're going to need that as evidence.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you.”
“Hey, what time is it?” Jordan asked.
“Oh, it's uh... quarter till midnight,” Donnic answered.
“Shit!” Jordan shouted. “Aveline, come on! We've gotta go!”
“Is there somewhere else you need to be, Aveline?” Donnic asked, seeming disappointed that they may be leaving him.
“I'm afraid I do,” said Aveline. “I'm sorry, Guardsman, but you did say you would be fine by yourself.”
“Oh... yes. I-I will.”
“Good, now let's get to Hightown. Quick!” Jordan had to pull Aveline away, practically dragging the warrior out of the alleyway.
“Alright, Jordan! I'm coming.” Aveline tore her arm from Jordan's grasp and followed right behind her. “What's your hurry, anyway?”
“I told Anders we'd be there at midnight and now it's fifteen till!” Jordan began to run through the market, the others trying to keep up with her. “It's going to take some time to get to Hightown, so we need to be quick!”
“You could've at least let me make sure he was all right!”
“You already did, and Bethany healed him so he's fine! Now come on! Anders is waiting!”
***
It was an up hill battle all the way through Lowtown and into Hightown. Jordan pushed herself as she ran the last few steps to the chantry door. Even she was heaving when they reached the top. The others, just as out of breath, made their way more slowly, having stopped to walk halfway up the stairs. Jordan had pushed them to reach the chantry in a timely manner. They would already be late, but Jordan wasn't about to be even more so.
“Seriously, Jordan, did we really have to run all the way?” Aveline asked out of breath.
“Don't tell me you're already winded, O Mighty Warrior?” Jordan teased, even though she was just as winded.
“It's up hill all the way from Lowtown. Anybody would be out of breath after how hard you pushed us.”
“I'm just going to... sit... right here.” Varric was the last to reach the top. He breathed hard as he sat on the stairs, placing his head between his knees.
“Deep breaths, Varric,” Bethany said placing a hand on his shoulder. “My sister obviously doesn't realize you have shorter legs than she does.”
“Dwarves also aren't made for running,” he breathed. “Thanks, Sunshine, but I think I'll be fine as long as we don't have to do that again.”
“Well, you guys go ahead and wait here to catch your breath,” said Jordan. “I'll go see if Anders is here.” As she made her way to the chantry door, Chance quickly bounded forward to join her.
The outside of the chantry was quiet, and Jordan took note of the many shadows cast by deep corners and the tall statue of Andraste that loomed over Hightown. The chantry was the second highest point in Kirkwall, with the Viscount's Keep being on the very top of the city. Jordan figured from her vantage point, she could have probably seen all the way down the city. The tops of the houses in Lowtown, and the warehouses at the docks. The only reason why she couldn't see these things was because of the large wall surrounding Hightown. The wall being placed so that the nobles didn't have to stare at such eye sores. The only structure that could be seen from where she stood was the Gallows. Even far off it appeared dark and dreary.
Chance began to growl softly beside her and Jordan sensed someone come behind her. She turned her head to see Anders standing in the shadows staring at her. He almost seemed confused. “Sorry we're late,” she said turning fully around. “But there was another matter we needed to deal with.”
“That's... fine,” he spoke coming completely out of the shadows and looking around. He stopped when he saw the others sitting on the stairs. “I've been here for some time, but... to tell you the truth, I'm surprised you even came.”
“Why would you be surprised?” Jordan questioned. “I made a promise to you, didn't I? I said I would help, and here I am. I don't break my promises.”
Anders let out a deep sigh. “Good. You don't know how rare that is to hear for someone like me.”
“An apostate, you mean? Yeah, I know how you feel.” Jordan glanced over at her sister.
Anders nodded. “Are you ready to go inside? I saw Karl enter a few minutes ago. No templars so far.”
“I didn't see anything out of the ordinary on our way up here.” Jordan gestured to the others to come over to where she and Anders stood.
“Then follow me.” Anders took them into the chantry, opening the large doors and slipping inside.
The chantry in Kirkwall was somewhat different than the ones Jordan knew from Ferelden. It was huge, for one, with no pews for people to sit on. Instead, it was a giant room with staircases on either side and a massive statue of the Maker in the back. It looked to be made of bronze, standing and reaching the high arched ceiling. The Maker loomed over a dais where the grand cleric held most of her sermons. His piercing eyes gazing at everyone who entered the chantry.
“When we find Karl,” said Anders as he lead them to one of the stairs. “Let me speak with him. You just look out for templars.” They followed him all the way to the side balcony. In the corner was an alcove with a table and several shelves full of books. There was also a fireplace that had a small, crackling fire. Standing in front of it was a man, his back turned to them. Anders took a step toward the man, looking almost nervous to see him. Jordan kept the others from fully entering the alcove. Only she followed behind Anders slowly.
“Karl?” he spoke slowly. He reached out his hand to touch the man's shoulder, but stopped and shivered. Beside Jordan, Chance started growling, his ears down and hackles upright. Jordan could tell something wasn't right.
“Anders, I know you too well,” Karl said in a straight, monotone voice. “I knew you would never give up.” He slowly turned around to face them. Bethany gasped, Aveline and Varric took a step back, and even though Jordan couldn't see Anders's face very well, she could tell he was just as shocked and appalled as she was. Probably even more.
Karl stared at them with a blank face, eyes dull and lifeless. Upon his forehead was a tattoo of a sun, burned into his flesh. It was the symbol of a tranquil.
“Karl... no!” Anders said slowly a he stared at his friend. “What have...? How could you let them do this to you?” There was anger in his voice now.
“I was too rebellious. Like you.” Karl spoke with no emotion, no consideration of what he was doing to his friend. “The templars knew I needed to be... made an example of.”
“No!” Anders growled. “This is not right. You should not have been made tranquil!”
“How else will mages ever master themselves? You'll understand, Anders. As soon as the templars teach you to control yourself.”
“Jordan!” Bethany said panicked. Jordan looked back at her sister, seeing the fear in her eyes. Templars then started coming out from behind pillars and corners. They were being surrounded, cornered in the little alcove. Even though Jordan knew this could happen—had even been warned by Anders—she still gave him a murderous gaze for putting them in this position. But once she saw his own face, she softened hers.
Anders was just as surprised as they were. He looked around the room in a panic. Stared at his friend who only stared back with an emotionless face.
“I'm sorry, Anders, but this is for your own good.” That damn voice of his, making Jordan's skin crawl with the way he said it.
Anders turned back to the slowly approaching templars. His eyes beginning to burn with anger, his magic flaring. Jordan watched as something began to happen, something began to shift within him. “No!” he screamed as he fell to his knees. His body began to vibrate, waver, shift. They could feel the pressure of his magic growing, nearly choking the air. Blue flames burst around him as he stood, and as Jordan looked in his eyes, she became frightened as she stared into the familiar blue vortexes.
“You will all die for this crime!” Anders shouted, but it wasn't his voice. It was deeper, darker sounding, inhuman. The same voice that had told Jordan to stay down. “Never shall you take another mage as you took him!”
The battle began with a burst from Anders's—or whatever he was—spell. It sent many of the templars flying backwards. Jordan had to cover her face and maintain her footing to keep from being thrown by the backlash. It was a powerful spell, followed by another with such force Jordan felt her ears might pop from the pressure.
Most of the templars who recovered went after Anders. One, however, decided to go a different direction, straight toward Bethany. Jordan grabbed Edge and went to put herself in front of her sister, but the templar didn't make it to her. Aveline had slammed her shield into him, forcing him on the wall. Jordan knew that Aveline didn't like the position they were in, and was probably hating herself for it, but she was going to do what needed to be done. If not for Jordan's sake, then at least for Bethany's.
As Aveline took care of the one templar, Anders rained fire down on the rest. They screamed and tried to get away, but were trapped by Varric and Chance who had stepped to the outside of the alcove. Varric had Bianca out, firing bolts where ever they were needed, while Chance growled and bit, trying to keep from getting burned. It was an inferno, the heat scorching Jordan's skin. She had to back away. Relief came to her as she felt Bethany place a shield around her. This, however, brought the attention of another templar who abandoned his attempt to get at Anders. Aveline wasn't able to take down this one, still occupied with the first, but Jordan was ready. She held Edge and her other dagger, face and stance showing the templar she wasn't going to back down.
“Jordan, no! You shouldn't!” Bethany cried.
“You don't worry about anything, Bethie,” shouted Jordan. “Just leave him to me. All you need to do is keep this shield up and watch my back!” She went to run at him, to meet him half way, but suddenly he stopped. Jordan felt what he was about to do, but had no time to react. He sent out a holy smite straight at her, cutting right through the magical shield. It hit both Jordan and Bethany with incredible force. The smite sent them smacking the wall. Jordan slide down and onto her hands and knees, having knocked the wind out of her lungs. The smack making her head spin. Jordan coughed and shook her head, trying to clear her mind. The holy smite had hurt, and even though she had been hit with it first, she knew it was an ability not meant for her. Looking over at her sister, Jordan saw Bethany laying on the ground, her head turned away. She was moaning, which gave Jordan the endurance to get back on her feet.
The templar was still where he had stopped, now staring at Jordan with slight confusion. Whether he thought the smite would work on her or not, Jordan wasted no time. In his confusion, she rushed him, moving to his right side and sticking Edge directly between his armor plates. The templar screamed with pain and turned away from her, but his own movement caused Edge to rip open his side and gave Jordan the opportunity to sink her other dagger in his neck. The templar went down with a gurgle as blood spilled from his mouth.
With the templar down, Jordan ran back to Bethany and helped her sister to sit up. “Oh Maker, Bethany!” Jordan spoke. “Come on, please speak to me.”
“Oh...” Bethany moaned. “Jordan...? Are you... okay?”
“Why are you worrying about me? You're the mage that got hit with a holy smite!”
“Yeah, and I never want to do that again.” Bethany rubbed her forehead as she went to her knees. “What's going on anyway?” Both she and Jordan looked up from their place against the wall to see the battle was still going, but by the feel of the magic in the air, it wasn't going to last much longer.
Anders, in his glowing form, stood in the middle of a ring of templars, all of which were being held by some telekinetic spell. Aveline, Varric, and Chance were on the opposite side of where Jordan and Bethany were, watching the scene. With a quick swipe of his staff, Anders sent all the templars flying, some hitting the walls, others hitting the ceiling. All ending up on the ground and not moving as blood slowly began to pool around their bodies.
Jordan was the first to stand as she glared at Anders, ready to rip his heart out for what he had just lead them into. She didn't care what or how powerful he was, or even the fact that she knew this could happen. She wasn't very happy that her sister had gotten hurt and had nearly almost been captured or even killed. But as Jordan got closer to Anders, there was a sudden shift in the air. He looked over at her and instead of seeing the swirling blue, she saw his soft brown eyes. They were sad looking, confused, horrified. He looked around at the dead templars, then at his own hands. Jordan could no longer hate him. Not when he looked like that.
“Wh-what? Anders?” Karl's voice brought both of their attentions to him. He blinked at his friend, seeming just as confused, perhaps more.
“Karl?” Anders said turning fully to him.
“What did you do? It's like... I feel... Holy Maker, I feel!”
“Ah, what?” Jordan said as she made her way over to Karl. “I thought tranquil couldn't feel.”
“Exactly, we can't! But I... Anders, why does it feel as if the Fade is inside you? What did you do?”
“That is a very good question,” Jordan said to Anders. “Mind explaining the whole glowy, burst into flames part, too?”
“I have... some unique circumstances,” Anders said timid. He looked away from Jordan whose eyes were piercing, and spoke to Karl. “Karl, what happened? How did they get you?”
“The templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden,” said Karl, no longer in his dry, monotone voice. It was now filled with joy, fear, anxiety. Jordan wondered what it was like to have no emotions, then for all of them to come flooding back so suddenly. Karl didn't look like he was taking it very well.
“They found a letter I was writing you,” he continued. “Used it as evidence to condemn me. You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I'll never be whole again.”
“This must have been what Mother and Father were protecting me from.” Bethany placed her hands over her mouth as tears began to leak from her eyes. “I can't stand to see him like this. Jordan, please do something.”
What am I suppose to do? Jordan thought. Keeping Bethany from this fate would be a simple task, but what was she suppose to do about Karl? If she even could do anything.
“You need to help me,” Karl pleaded, panic in his voice now. “I can feel it fading. I can feel the coldness creeping through me again. Pleases!” he begged Anders. “Kill me before I forget!”
“Karl... no.” Anders shook his head, fighting with himself.
“Is there nothing we can do for him?” Jordan asked.
“No. There's no cure for becoming tranquil. The dreams of tranquil mage's are severed—there is nothing left of them to fix.”
“Do it, please Anders! I'm begging you!” Karl grabbed on to the front of Anders's robes and looked frightfully into his eyes. “You have no idea... No idea...”
“Please, help him,” Bethany sobbed. She was facing away from the scene. Jordan wanted to go over and comfort her, but Aveline beat her to it. The warrior took Bethany into her arms and spoke softly to her. Jordan wished, now more than ever, that she hadn't have brought Bethany with her. She was sensitive to this type of thing. A person in need of help and she could do nothing about it.
“Do it,” Jordan said, turning to Anders. “My father once said being tranquil was a fate worse than death. Give him peace.”
Taking his eyes from hers, Anders took his friend into his arms. “I got here too late. I'm sorry, Karl. I'm so sorry.”
“There was nothing you could have done anyway.” Tears ran down Karl's face. “The Gallows is a prison. The knight-commander a tyrant. You cannot stop her alone.”
“But I'm not alone. Good-bye, my friend.” Karl suddenly buckled, his knees giving out as he slumped to the floor. Anders gently laid him down, and Jordan saw the knife sticking out of his abdomen. Karl then took his last breath, a smile on his face.
Anders knelt next to his friend for a moment before closing his eyes and standing. “We should leave,” he said solemn.
“Are you going to be...?” Jordan tried to ask.
“I'll be fine. See to your sister. She's the one that needs you more.” Anders went to leave, making his way out of the alcove and away from the corpse of his friend. Jordan heaved and followed after him. She wasn't going to let him go that easy.
***
They probably thought she was crazy, but Jordan didn't really care. She wanted answers, and if that meant following Anders all the way back to Darktown and to his clinic, then that's what she would do.
After leaving the chantry, none of them had spoken, but Jordan already knew what they were all thinking. If they wanted to leave, they could, but then that would mean leaving her alone with a man who could probably kill her real easy despite her own abilities. None of them wanted to find her dead in a ditch somewhere in the morning, and Jordan didn't necessarily want to end up in one either. But she had to have her answers, and the others knew it. Probably wanting answers too, which was why they continued to follow both her and Anders silently.
Darktown was quiet, a rare occurrence considering the undercity was busy around the clock. Nighttime was when most of the dealings occurred. But tonight the sewers almost seemed empty, like the people living down here could feel them coming. Like they knew something that they didn't want to get involved in just occurred.
When they finally arrived at Anders's clinic, he stopped at one of the tables and placed his hands upon the surface, his head hanging low. Jordan could tell he was troubled. She stood directly behind him, and waited patiently for him to speak. “I suppose you want to know what that was all about?” he finally said. He turned his head to have one deeply sad, brown eye stare at her.
“I do,” Jordan said softly. “That was a very... interesting trick. I didn't know mages could burst into blue flames. Or give tranquil their feelings back.”
Fully facing her, Anders averted his eyes and scratched the back of his head. “I'm not exactly sure how to explain this to you. It's not something you might be able to understand.”
“I come from a family with magic. I think I'll understand better than most.”
“Not this.” Anders looked grim, like he was battling with himself on whether or not to tell her.
“So it was you, wasn't it?” Bethany spoke as she slowly made her way to Jordan's side. She was better now, the trip back to Darktown allowing her to recompose herself. “You were the one that saved me and my sister from those slavers.”
Anders sighed and looked on at her with a softer gaze. “Yes... and no.”
“What do you mean?”
“Justice saved you.”
“Okay,” said Jordan. “If that's what you want to call it...”
“This is the part that's hard to explain.” Anders breathed out slowly. “When I was in Amaranthine, I met a spirit named Justice. During the chaos that was going on while I was a recruit, the spirit of Justice got pulled out of the Fade and then trapped within the corpse of a Grey Warden. He helped us take care of the darkspawn, along with helping me with a few things before...”
“Before... what?” Jordan asked slowly.
Anders's gaze suddenly became harder. “You know the plight that mages go through. How we're punished for just being born. Ripped from our mother's skirts just because of the gifts the Maker gave us. Justice saw the injustice in it. He showed me that as a free mage, it was my duty to help free the others. To give justice to all mages.”
“So, let me guess,” Jordan said as she started putting the pieces together. “Is this the part when you tell me you're an abomination?”
“No, I'm not an abomination,” Anders said calm. “Justice is a spirit, not a demon. Just as demons pray on the deadly sins of mankind, there are good spirits who embody our virtues. Spirits of compassion, fortitude... justice. They are the Maker's first children.”
“So... is that why your eyes glow?”
“Yes,” Anders sighed. “To live outside the Fade, Justice needed a host, but he needed something more than a corpse. The one he had embodied was unusable anymore, and he couldn't keep transferring from one to another. So... I offered my own.”
“But... how is that different from when a demon possesses a mage?” Bethany asked, slightly disturbed by the notion.
“He's not an abomination,” Aveline spoke.
“And how would you know?” Jordan asked.
“Are you forgetting I was married to a templar? I've seen abominations. Witnessed how they act. They are grotesque and twisted creatures that are no longer capable of rational thought. Anders, although I don't know him very well, seems to still have his mind.”
“Oh. Okay. Yes.”
“Exactly,” Anders agreed. “And like I said before, Justice isn't a demon.”
“Right, right,” Jordan said rubbing the flesh between her eyes. “But if Justice is a benevolent spirit, then why didn't you look all that friendly in the chantry?”
“That... is because of me,” Anders sighed deeply. “You see, spirits don't really understand human emotions. They're... alien to them, and can sometimes be overwhelming.”
“I can understand the alien part, but even humans can become overwhelmed with emotions.”
“Yes, but it's different for a spirit. They don't know how to handle it. Something that might be simple for us, could be overwhelming for them. When Justice was in the corpse, he was having a hard time trying to determine all the things going on around him. Everything was different and... stable. Unlike the Fade, which is constantly moving and shifting.”
“So your own emotions...? He can't handle them?”
“There was too much anger in me,” Anders continued. “Justice thought he could handle it. He had been doing fairly well before, but... that was in a corpse. Now, whenever I see templars, or anything else that outrages me, like seeing two women being taken advantage of by slavers, he comes out. He is no longer my friend Justice. He's a force of vengeance. And he has no grasp of mercy.”
“Or at least for templars and slavers. But you—or he—healed me.”
“That's not necessarily mercy. That's bringing justice to the victim.” Anders half smiled at her. Jordan snorted, not liking having been referred to as 'the victim.'
“If you had given me a chance, then I could've taken care of those slavers just fine.”
This got Anders to slightly laugh. “You sound like someone I know.”
“I hope that's a good thing.”
“It is... sort of.” Anders cleared his throat and turned away from her, looking almost embarrassed. She liked that he looked like that. It was cute.
“So... can you become Justice at will?” she asked, changing the subject to keep him talking.
“No, it's... complicated,” Anders said looking back at her.
“Is there like a trigger word or something? Like, if I said the t-word, would he come out?”
“The 't-word'?”
“You know... templar!” Jordan smiled but lost it when nothing happened.
“Obviously not,” Anders said staring at her.
“Oh, I get it! It's one of those things where I have to say it three times, right?”
“Jordan, no. It doesn't-”
“Templar!” she shouted.
“Jordan...”
“Te... te... temple! Ha! Fooled you, didn't I?”
“Yeah, you really fool-”
“Templar!”
Anders just stared at her.
“Oh,” Jordan said disappointed. “I was really hoping that would work.”
“Like I was about to say,” said Anders. “It doesn't work that way. He comes only when I've lost all power over myself. It's a madness, a frenzy. I only find out after what I might have done.”
“Does that mean you're separate entities?” said Bethany.
“No, we are one,” Anders said starting to look grim again. “We cannot be separated. I am Justice, and he is Anders. The only way we might be able to be separated is by death.”
“That's awful!”
“It's not that bad. I mean... is it, but it's a curse of my own making. All I can do now is hope to control it.”
“Well, I'd have to say Justice got a good deal out of it,” said Jordan.
“And what would that be?”
“His host... nice, easy on the eyes. I certainly understand your sexy, tortured look now.”
“Right,” Anders said rolling his eyes. “I guess I have turned a few heads in my day, but... you're an interesting woman. I wouldn't think anyone I told this to would be able to look past it.”
“So then why did you tell us?” Jordan asked.
“I... don't know. There's just... something about you. When you came into my clinic for the first time, when I saw the slavers attacking you... there was just something... familiar.”
“Speaking of that,” Bethany spoke up. “I didn't hurt you too much with that lightning bolt, did I?”
“It stung, I'll say that,” Anders answered. “But I'm just surprised you used it when I was so close to your sister.”
“I was aiming for you. I knew I wouldn't hit her.”
“She's a good shot, isn't she?” Jordan said wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulders. “Pinpoint accuracy. Like to think she got that from me.”
“Seriously? And when was the last time you hit anything with a bow and arrow? Stick to daggers, Jordan. You're better at that than with long ranged weapons.”
“My little sister, everybody.”
“I can definitely tell,” said Anders. “But before I forget, here are the maps I promised you.” He handed them to Jordan, who without really looking at them, passed them along to Varric. “They are yours. Use them wisely.”
“Thanks, but... what about you?”
“Was there more you wanted from me?”
“Well, it would be helpful. I could always use an extra hand to prepare for the Deep Roads. I need to collect fifty sovereigns, not an easy task. And you don't have to come with us on the expedition, but it would be... nice.”
“You can forget me going back into the Deep Roads,” Anders said crossing his arms. “But, since you helped me, and even though things went horribly wrong tonight, you haven't tried to kill me yet. So, if you do need me, you can always find me here. If I'm not busy with patients or my research, then I'll help you collect the money you need.”
Jordan smiled sweetly at him. “That is very much appreciated. And if you ever want to find me or Bethany, we live with our uncle and mother in Lowtown. Just next to the Hanged Man. Which is actually another place you may find us.”
“Right.” He smiled back at her. A better smile, one that made his brown eyes glow warmly.
“Come on, Sister,” Bethany said tugging on Jordan's sleeve. “I think we need to be getting back. You don't want Mother to wake and find us gone, do you?”
“No, that would be bad,” Jordan said as she followed her sister, Aveline, and Varric out of the clinic. “So let's get home before she does.” Before fully leaving, Jordan looked back at the clinic one more time. It was a place she really didn't want to leave. She would be back, of course, and not because there was something she needed Anders to heal.

Paraphrasing from Dragon Age 2
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Blood Promise