“Sister Leliana is a friend of Warden-Commander Mahariel; she was a veteran of the Fifth Blight, and fought at his side. They've kept in touch, as you're aware. She knows a little of the events that happened after the Blight in Amaranthine, but she doesn't know them in great detail. There were some things that were held back, for the sake of simplicity and because we truly didn't know what we were dealing with. It was part of the reason the Warden-Commander returned to Vigil's Keep, and left in search of answers. When she previously reached out to us, she was working with unfinished, vague information. Now we know that there are too many details to be coincidence, and it paints a truly horrible picture.”
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“The Dalish bury their dead beneath a tree, but it is a far cry from what the ancient elves did. The elves of Arlathan, the elvhen, didn't die. They slept.”
She'd heard very little of the ancient elves, but even she knew that they'd been immortal before something had caused death to touch them. “Did they wake after they slept?”
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In the Fade, he had seen spirits lure sailors to rocky shores at night when their sight was limited. These spirits, which appeared in hazy female forms, sang and danced above the foam. They lured the sailors to crash upon the rocks and would watch them drown. In the rare event, the sailor might survive the encounter and so would be left clutching onto stones for days, bewildered by the spirits and the sound of their melody. Most times, Solas had watched the sailors who survived still give in to the song, and would surrender to the ocean tide.
Prompt I got from @wardsarefunctioning a while back (sorry it took about half a century) Original prompt was “Aslaug is a companion in DA: Awakening and meets Justice and Anders”
“An Avvar? Are you pulling my leg, Anders? There was an Avvar Grey Warden?” Hawke blurted, mouth still full of food.
A long sigh, followed by the sound of a hand slapping a tabletop. “Look, Seeker, I don’t know the whole story, alright? Maker’s Breath, I don’t even know what his real name is -”
“You know enough, Varric. This Avvar mage that Anders mentioned to you - who is she? What is her name?”
“I’ll tell you what I know but that’s not a lot. And it probably won’t help you find him.”
“At this point I would settle for just finding the mage that encouraged him to become an abomination.”
“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with you, but yeah. If it hadn’t been for her, then maybe...maybe it wouldn’t have ended the way it had.”
“We would not have needed the Conclave.”
“That’s stretching it a bit too far there, Seeker. It was coming, but maybe we wouldn’t have been in a war.”
“Tell me, Varric. What do you know about the mage he met before he joined the Champion?”
…
“An Avvar? Are you pulling my leg, Anders? There was an Avvar Grey Warden?” Hawke blurted, mouth still full of food.
It was a rare moment for Anders to take a break from his clinic, for the shadows beneath his eyes to vanish, and the wrinkles around his mouth to ease. He picked up his tankard and grinned briefly. “Hah! You’d have liked her Hawke. She was always up for a good fight. Bloody brilliant with frost magic.”
“I heard that the Avvar practiced rituals with spirits and demons,” Hawke chewed loudly.
“To my knowledge they do, she was also the only human I knew of who actually liked dwarven ale,” he raised his brows at Varric.
“Don’t look at me, Blondie. They put dirt that stuff and I want no part of it,” Varric held up his hands in surrender.
Anders chuckled. “She preferred it with Deep Mushrooms, I believe. The first time I met her, she bashed a templar’s face in with a shield.”
“Straight shot to your heart after that?” Varric drawled.
“Almost, if I hadn’t been on the other end of her spear the next minute when I tried approaching the Warden-Commander. I was on the run -”
“The mage said, surprising no one at all,” Varric interrupted smoothly.
Anders cleared his throat. “I’m telling the story, Varric, even though I’m sure you’ll steal it later.”
“Me? Plagiarism?” He sounded almost sincere, if it hadn’t been for the smile stretching across his face.
“If I weren’t so busy with my manifesto, I have stories that would bump you off the bestseller list,” the mage bragged.
“Nope, noooope, not the bloody manifesto again. Now Anders, you said you were on the run like we were all supposed to be shocked, please continue,” Hawke said graciously, waving a skewer of meat at them.
Anders rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I ran into the Warden-Commander and his party when the templars had me cornered. This was when I met Aslaug -”
“How’d you say her name again?”
“I am not spelling her name for you so you can just take my story and add it to your collection, dwarf. The Warden-Commander conscripts me, but one of the younger templars starts arguing with him about it. ‘Apostate this, apostate that, runaway this, runaway that’ and he moves to intimidate him - intimidate the bloody Warden-Commander with his sword out and threatening the “knife-ear”. Steel fruit that one. Or just a complete buckethead. Aslaug moves in front of him, shield bashes him and says ‘The Warden-Commander deserves respect lowlander. I will beat it in you if I must’,” he said, affected a thick Avvar accent.
“Sounds like a prize,” Varric drawled.
Anders just chuckled. “She was very blunt. I think she and Aveline would have gotten on. Well, aside from the whole Avvar religion and practicing magic outside of the Circle,” he waved a hand vaguely. “Anyway. The Warden-Commander conscripts me and it only really dawns on me then that this isn't something he did purely out of the kindness of his heart. The Wardens are always looking to recruit, you know.”
“Maybe don't sound so bitter about it, I've heard being a Warden has its benefits,” Isabela said with a wink as she settled into a seat beside Hawke.
“Oh the whole stamina thing? Sure, but it isn't as though that's done me any good. Mostly I've just been using it to heal the sick and dying and for running in the opposite direction when I see a templar.”
“So this Avvar Grey Warden, how did she come to be in the Warden-Commander's inner circle?” Varric folded his fingers and sat forward.
“Buy me another drink, and maybe I'll tell you.”
Varric whistled at the barmaid and pointed at Anders's tankard. “Go on, Blondie, tell your favorite author all about it.”
“That sounded rather sinister,” Hawke said.
“Apparently, she'd been tainted by darkspawn in the Wending Wood. Fun fact, she was actually there performing a ritual to the Avvar god they believe inhabits those woods.” His lips twitched into a small smile.
“How is that a fun fact?” Varric grumbled.
Anders continued as though Varric hadn't spoken. “They treat mages and magic so differently. It's incredible. We could have been focusing on real problems instead of dividing our energy over the question “do people deserve to be people”. They talk to spirits and encourage their children to form strong bonds with them. What better being to teach you about magic than something that is magic by its nature?”
“Strong bonds, huh?” Varric piped up. “Like what you and our mutual glowing buddy have?”
“Yes,” he said.
Varric barked out a brief laugh. “You've got to be shitting me.”
“Justice was possessing a corpse, acting the demon when he isn't. I didn't have a sense of purpose, even when I became a Warden and joined their ranks. I hated that life. It was just a set of chains somewhere else.” He shook his head.
“Ooo, chains? And where were you tied up this time?” Isabela bounced her brows.
“Isabela, you can't just ask someone where they were tied up,” Hawke scolded humorously.
Ignoring them, with a fierce look on his face, Anders continued. “I had no purpose, no real empathy or sympathy for the mages until I met Justice. Aslaug helped us both. Justice didn't want to possess a corpse, but still wanted to serve the physical world in what ever way he could and I needed to find myself. She helped us perform the ritual and settle in. If it weren't for her help, that might not have happened. I might still be in the Deep Roads hating my decision to join the Grey Wardens, and Justice would have withered away in this world without a body.”
“Sure,” Hawke said. “But is this what you wanted? Or were you just a little cock-struck and wanted to impress the scary Avvar lady?”
“A little bit of the latter, but...over our conversations, I realized Justice was right. Something had to be done. Someone had to help the Circles. Why not us?”
“You used to be so much more fun,” Isabela said with an odd half smile.
“Thanks, but we all have to grow up and assume responsibility over our lives. The mages need help.” His fingers tightened over his ale. “It doesn't have to be like Tevinter; mages wouldn't do that – just because we get freedom and have to be treated like people doesn't mean that slavery would automatically pop up. The Avvar don't have slaves, they speak with spirits as their friends, as advisors and guides. Mages are treated just the same – they can keep their children, they can be hunters or healers or warriors or whatever they choose. They can marry, and they even have a position of respect. They're allowed to be people.”
“Anders,” Hawke murmured. “Your eyes. Calm down a little.”
Anders cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. “Thank you, Hawke.”
“Sure, they have all that, but I've heard Avvar raids can be quite brutal,” Isabela stole a piece of meat from Hawke's plate.
“Only to survive,” he shot back. “The Frostback Mountains aren't exactly fertile everywhere. After Ferelden and Orlais pushed them so far up the mountains, they were forced to relinquish any farmland they could have had.”
“But they don't always take anything,” Hawke pointed out.
“Sometimes it's only to just prevent Ferelden or Orlais from encroaching on their borders. Or to attract the attention of gods.”
“That is why the “Avvar way of life” would never work outside of the mountains, Anders.” Isabela licked her fingers. “'Attract the attention of gods'. Usually whenever anyone sane hears something like that, they naturally assume it means something bad is about to happen. And a lot of people are quite insistent that the Maker and Andraste are the end all and be all. Just ask Kitten. She's had a few run ins with Andrasteans.”
“It wouldn't need to be taken page for page, Isabela. Is it so much to ask that if a mage comes into their magic, they aren't stolen from their family and locked away in a prison as if they're a monster?”
“Please shout mage louder Anders. I'd love to fight off templars in the Hanged Man. Bad enough I have to see them in the Blooming Rose and end up awkwardly avoiding eye contact when we know the other's favorites.” Hawke picked at her nails.
“Blondie why did you decide to share your body with Justice? Don't get me wrong; he's great backup in a fight, but honestly he scares the crap out of me.” Varric's eyebrows furrowed. “And I know you've got a particular hard on for freedom, so why? Why choose to be possessed?”
Anders frowned then his mouth relaxed. “She talked about it you know. When she was a child and they performed the ritual to let a spirit in. Spirits and people choose each other because they share characteristics that draw them to one another.”
“Maker's breath, children?!” Hawke hissed.
“It was safe Hawke. The other spirits watched over them and made sure the child was safe, and that there was no danger of becoming corrupted or turning into a puppet, and that the spirit was never twisted. The way she talked about it...” he closed his eyes. “Spirits essentially help Avvar Holds raise the children, did you know that? Even non-mages. Her bonded spirit taught her about magic and the Fade, and showed her that with practice, there was nothing to fear. It was something to be treasured and it was beautiful. She was never afraid of demons, or nightmares, or conjuring fire. This was the way it was for all the children who were bonded to spirits. They were safe and were never alone.”
“Is that why you decided to scramble yourself with a hint of Justice?” Isabela asked.
“No. I knew that I had gotten away from the Circle, but later I realized it wasn't enough. Justice was always worried about the mages of Thedas. He saw the horrible injustices we suffered.” Anders gulped down his ale.
“So we have this mysterious Avvar lady to blame for you going a bit glowy when you get mad,” Hawke observed. “But doesn't it sound just a little dangerous for an adult to be bonded with a spirit? Unless you had other spirits to watch over you. That's what you said the Avvar did, right?”
“Well, after Warden-Commander Mahariel vanished and I let Justice in, Aslaug watched over us. She said Justice was very receptive to the ritual. Usually it takes longer, but it was likely because he was already possessing a corpse and wanted out.”
Varric propped his elbows up on the table. “So when you ran away from the Wardens...”
“I had to leave behind a friend; a dear friend to both of us who helped us see a better way. I still feel bad about just up and leaving, but I was never a very good Warden.”
“Justice liked her?” Hawke asked. “I thought he just liked scaring people and talking about the injustices of the world.”
“And scolding you for having naughty thoughts,” Isabela added.
“I can't believe I left that out,” Hawke murmured.
“Well,” Anders allowed, “he likes those things too. But Aslaug understood him better than we did. She was used to talking to spirits and she respected him. He seemed grateful for that.”
“So you talk a lot about this purpose you and he share now, which, congratulations, but what exactly is it?” Hawke wondered aloud. “Is it just blowing the signal that something stinks?”
Anders tapped out a rhythm on the table. “At first. Now it's building up to really mean something. To real change.”
“Okay...” Hawke said slowly. “And what is this change and will I be alive to see it?”
Anders sighed. “I'm still...debating over what that change should be.”
“I love a work in progress. Much more exciting,” Hawke approved.
“The thrill of anticipation,” Isabela threw her head back dramatically. “Oh Anders, give me all of your manifesto.”
He shot her a sour look. Hawke looked on in amusement. “See? Much more exciting.”
…
“I don't need to know that, Varric. The Avvar, did Anders ever say where she was? Perhaps he fled to join her. Leliana could not find any description matching an Avvar Warden in Amaranthine. The ones who claimed to have known that woman do not know where she is.”
“I already told you Seeker, he didn't talk much about his time with the Wardens. Maybe she was one of those Wardens that went to Orlais?”
“Did he say anything else?”
“He mentioned how tall she was a few times. Honestly Seeker, he was pretty tight-lipped about her. Or maybe Justice was. I don't know.”
“Ugh.”
“But Seeker...if you and Nightingale do find her, let me know alright? I just – I don't know. I need to talk to her. Ask her questions like “what the hell were you thinking” or “did you even think about the consequences” or just...shit. I'd settle for just staring at her angrily.”
“Or you could make a sign that says 'No' and let Aveline hit her with it.”
“Hah! Maybe, but she might hit back just as hard from what I've heard.”
