Anders

months later, i’m here again, and every time i think i get muse for anders... he hides. and i blame anxiety every time i see another anders one way or another. so, until that passes or... until i get into a dragon age play-through again consider this blog dead... until i come back. 

L Long gone was the whimsical humor he had so loved about his old companion. He stood silent for a few moments after the mage spoke. Sorrow found itself etched into his features. 

They had fought to make this world a safer place. 

Anders, Justice, and Himself. 

Now the world had been plunged into chaos, and the once great Hero of Ferelden found himself at a loss for aid. 

Perhaps it was best to leave this matter to the Inquisition. Maybe their parts in the history of Thedas had already been played out, but the Hunter could not accept such a thing.

He could not sit idle by. He could not as a Grey Warden, watch this darkspawn magister threaten all that he held dear. 

“Anders…” 

He wanted to protest, to demand that the mage rise up and and ride out with him to face this new threat. 

He didn’t though. 

He understood why Anders hid himself away. He could only hope that in time his old friend would come to see that he could still make a difference. 

That he was still a good man. 

“I won’t press it further Falon. I respect your wishes.”

Hiding was easy. Standing up for something you cared about was not. For Anders, it was a choice that was made out of thinking, and not what was absolutely necessary. 

He would eventually lend his assistance, but not formally, and not anytime soon. He would have to let himself ease back into things. 

Back near people again, but Anders didn’t think they would even let him close to the front lines. He was a disaster waiting to happen. It would just be a matter of time before justice decided to take over fully and then... he doubted that he would be able to get himself back together that final time.

“It’s safer this way.”

Rather, it was safer for everyone else, but that was already known. He didn’t want to dig too deep into the past. Not when it was only a matter of time before he was forcefully dragged back in the fray.

Something was coming, he could feel it in the back of his mind: his bones and in his blood. Even Justice knew that this would change things, but neither of them could bring themselves to an agreement. 

Well at least not yet.

                            the templar has always been good at this, at remaining calm and completely level headed  no matter what situation clawed at his ankles for attention. there was little doubt that this would have his heart pounding harder than normal, the anger that burned and the desperation to clasp armoured hands around the mages collar and degrade him for such a foolish act, to ask him why he EVER thought it would be a good idea to do such a thing, that there were MORE OPTIONS long before the deaths of those who had nothing to do with this. this was no chantry confessional and yet the mage had come to him regardless — the templar could not be angry at that, he wanted to fix his mistakes, and the maker may smile upon that.

                            ‘then you will stop it,’ he says, his voice remains flat, ‘i do not want to cause a panic within the chantry, it is the last thing we need,’ armoured boots now shift, he begins to walk, a hand sits against the mage’s shoulder, pushing him to follow and walk with him in direction of the chantry, ‘i hope you have some ingenious plan because i am not one for thinking on the spot and by the sounds of it we do not have much time,’ he continues, hands tense as they hold themselves in front of his chest, unsure of how to hold himself as morals flip over in his head, ‘i do not care who your help was, i am beating both of your asses when this is finished,’

                     anders knew they had little time left ---- justice would awaken soon and take back over. then, that would be when everything went far more down hill than it already was. maybe this was a chance to save lives, but at the same time, it also was a chance to fix one of the worst mistakes he had ever made. to not blow up a building that would harm almost everyone in the city.

“SOMETIMES WE MUST live with what has happened. You may not like it always, but if you cannot change what has happened- WHY CHANGE ANYTHING AT ALL?” She wanted to mention how much Ander’s sounded like ELIAS in that moment.  ‘WE’LL MAKE SURE THIS NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.’ So foolhardy, while shed appreciate the the statement usually; now was entirely different. She felt nothing for it. 

“Don’t throw yourself into the fray over a lost soul, I am here and I am alive. The latter would have been DEATH. It may not be what you want, or what anyone wants. But it’s better than nothing.” She’d watch him quietly, the blue glow alarming her for a moment before returning to a calm. A sign of his anger, she’d reach out to him, fingers gripping his sleeve. 

“Don’t let anger consume you, or you’ll only end up destroying yourself” 

Destroying himself had been something he’d done for years. Even before he had met her, both himself, and Justice had fought for control. The deals they made did little to resolve the spats and now they were both ( for once ) agreeing that every single Templar had to die.

It wouldn’t change anything, it wouldn’t even change what had happened, but what it would do would give the world a statement. Mages were people, but with power... if that meant that Anders had to do something worse than last time? He would do it, Anders would personally see to it that everyone was punished. It didn’t matter who they were, if they were involved, they would die, and vengeance  would occur. It had to.

Even her gripping his sleeve didn’t stop his train of thought. It just pushed him forward into remembering what he had lost. Pushed him forward to thoughts... that he hadn’t had since Kirkwall.

“But would they succeed? Or would they be won over with purrs and meows and cute little faces?”

      “ A healer and nothing more..? Well that’s quite the killjoy statement. ” The elf’s nose wrinkled with slight protest to the realization there was perhaps nothing intriguing here after all. “ Right – a healer who is so infamous that one cannot wander within the walls of Lowtown - is that right, did I say that right? - without HEARING of this man. But…just a healer. No need to fret, friend! Who is this little Dalish girl going to run off and tell? Do I look the type to have templar friends in my metaphorical pocket? ”