when the mind lets go

[glitteringstars]

Title: when the mind lets go 
Character: Anders
Fandom: Dragon Age (series)
Theme set: Theme Set Alpha
Rating: T 
Warnings: N/A

Can also be read on AO3

 

Speak

There is a moment that he doesn’t recognize the woman before him, but there is bright understanding in her eyes; she doesn’t say anything for a long time, despite the bodies of the freshly dead Templars and darkspawn littering his feet; he offers her close to winning smile, about to say something before she cuts him off with a simple request: “Anders of the Circle of Magi, why don’t you join the Grey Wardens?”

 

Touch

The Joining is unpleasant to say the least (the nightmares are the worst, weaving between something dark, beckoning him away and the body of his missing friend, chained up in the Kirkwall Circle), and the experience leaves him bedridden for hours, but the entire time, he is attended to by Warden-Commander Thais; her touches never linger, and he catches the hard-to-hid sour expressions as he attempts to make small-talk (and of course he flirts because she is pretty and offers him protections), and it here he realizes that he remembers the rumors of the Hero of Fereldan is from the same tower as he was.

 

Memory

It’s a fickle thing, and he honestly cannot remember if he knows Thais or not; no, what returns to him as he is attended to by the Creation magic is not those who he could have made friends with, but Karl and his fascination with the younger apprentices’ obsession with strangely made bracelets said to have eased their dreams.

 

Appetite

Anders had been warned by the Warden-Commander of the changes that were to come: improved stamina (there are uncountable jokes he can make with just that information alone), frequent nightmares (they surely won’t be that bad now that there is no longer a Blight breathing down their necks), and an increased appetite (this he underestimates until he is delirious with hunger and fighting Oghren for the last of chicken leg, which, of course, he loses).

 

Vanilla

“The way I got out this time was nothing particularly grand; if one pretends to be a good little mage, the Templars tend to drop their guard; that was how I got away my fourth time, and—Thais, please stop giving me that look—and when they let their guard down, you take any advantage you can get; hard to swim a lake in full armor, after all, and—All right, all right, I’m sorry it destroyed your daily excursions into the courtyard, but how was I to know?”

 

Chocolate

There were some perks to being a part of the Warden-Commander’s inner circle, especially when the local nobles ply her with gifts, gifts she charitably shares with the others, like the sweet Antivan delicacy called chocolate; a part of him wishes Karl were here to try it.

 

Ways and Means

On request, Anders heads to the City of Amaranthine to meet with the spy; he’s not one to judge the means an Arlessa has to keep power from those trying to usurp what little control she has, it’s just frustrating they have to deal with it at all when darkspawn haunt the countryside.

 

Belief

“Yes,” Thais sighs when Anders broaches the topic of their mutual confinement in Kinloch Hold, “my life under the Circle was much different than yours; I was there from a young age, and it’s become a home to me, but I can agree, things need to change; you’re not the only mage who has lost friends to those rules.”

 

Linger

Justice regards Anders through the dead eyes of a Grey Warden, and Anders can’t help but wonder when, all this is said and done, will the spirit find a new reason to linger in their world.

 

Luminance

The fires engulf the city, darkspawn flood the streets, but Thais orders her warriors respite; in the low glow of the Chantry, the place is full of survivors weeping and praying before the bright statue of Andraste, and all Justice can lament is how much more the Wardens should be doing, and it bothers Anders to the point he looks for the slightest bruise that he could heal.

 

Ornament

“If you’re asking about the feathers, little one,” Anders says as he tends to a child who has taken a special interest in the pauldrons of his Grey Warden uniform, “it’s not just meant for decoration, but so we can call on the griffon of old to fight the archdemon; I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of that was how the Hero of Fereldan Alistair killed the great dread dragon in Denerim.”

 

Coup de Foudre

When the news of the siege of Vigil’s Keep met their ears, it startles Anders how quickly Thais makes her decision: “Despite what people have said, I trust in my fellows to do what they must to protect Vigil’s Keep. I have let too many innocents die, and I will not let more be on my hands.”

 

Archway

Anders waits in the archway between the quarters and the main hall, watching warily as the Warden-Commander, Oghren, and Howe break out some wine kegs from the basement of Vigil’s keep; Sigrun already has piles of tankards and bowls (drinking from bowls, she insists, is customary from her days in the Legion of the Dead); Justice watches them disapprovingly from the corner of the room; Thais’s bark of laughter at Oghren’s wasted antics is nothing short of inviting, and as she stalks the distance of the room to hand him a tankard of high class swill, Anders can’t help but think maybe this isn’t such a bad place to rest.

 

Fate

So many years later, Anders laments his short time at Vigil’s Keep; be it the Maker’s plan or just plain bad luck, his hard-won freedom lasts mere months, but these are memories he and Justice holds dear.

 

Pulse

“What would I do with a living body? Mage, we have—fine, as a hypothetical my possession of a body is done in a righteous way, which it is not, I would use it to destroy oppression where I see it; starting with the Circle, as it has hurt both you and the Warden-Commander; you ask, yet you roll your eyes.”

 

Cold

The child arrives, shivering and tearful and seeking haven from the night chill; Anders and Thais already realize this child is a runaway, likely having heard that one of the Grey Wardens was a runaway mage; the two exchange a glance, and, while Anders hesitates, Thais takes the boy’s hand and guides them all inside.

 

Need

Over the course of the next week, more refugees from the Circle Tower come streaming in; Anders breaks out in hives at the thought of Templars at their door, yet somehow, Thais is steady as she considers those around them: she listens to each of their concerns, their fears, all before writing to the head of the Tower and some contact in Queen Anora’s court, and when questioned about it, Thais responds, “Something needs to change.”

 

Drunk

The Blight ended months ago, the strange talking darkspawn curbed, yet refugees still pass through Vigil’s Keep; Thais grows tired as she’s stuck in her chambers writing correspondence to Maker-knows-where; Templars come knocking at their door, and it takes drinking into stupors with Oghren to curb Anders’ nerve to run.

 

Envelope

Anders finds the envelope while cleaning (totally not snooping while she was out) the Warden-Commander’s office; the Warden seal is already broken, so he has no guilt in perusing the contents, but a part of him instantly becomes wary at the announcement that a seasoned Orlesian Grey Warden was being sent to “whip her contingent into shape.”

 

Mask

No one likes the Orlesian Warden, but Anders and Sigrun are the only ones who are able to mask it; Grey Warden Bianca is a dwarf with the swagger of nobles used to being listened to, and she casts a disdainful eye on the refugees housed within their walls—even Oghren, who delights in a put-down if it comes from a pretty woman, is put off by her haughtiness; if Velanna were here, things would have exploded long ago.

 

Two

“Two mages in a contingent is too much,” Bianca says during her mandated morning meetings, “and it’s shameful that a Warden-Commander is one already, yet the other might as well be an apostate; she may be your commander, but she is barely out of Taint Sickness, and it direly shows; so I am taking duty while she remains the Arlessa of this sad state of affairs—”

 

Fresh

Warden-Constable Bianca sets about expanding the recruitment numbers of Fereldan Grey Wardens under Thais’ nose, who, while she had taken what she could when it came to recruits, had set about being more selective in the weeks after the Amaranthine siege; the faces were all fresh and all conscripted and not a small number were Templars.

 

Rose

“A rose from Lothering?” Anders asks Thais one night as they reminisce over drinks and spill their guts about what they’ve lost; she tells him of her love, sacrificed in the fight against the archdemon, and he confides in her about Karl, now in the depths of Kirkwall, and Anders cannot admit how good it feels to find comradery.

 

Error

Thais never had Andraste’s mythic patience, and when one of the former Templars made to gut a suspected mage (Justice and Anders had been there to save the mage from succumbing to the Templar’s swing, but they ended up passing away, even after the Commander-Warden tried to put the poor sod through the Joining), Thais finally asserts her authority: “You were to act as my second in command and not make these decisions without me, and now you put my subjects in danger; Bianca of the Orlesian Grey, by the power vested in me as both Warden-Commander of Fereldan and the Arlessa of Vigil’s Keep, you and your recruits are hereby banished, and Warden Nathaniel Howe is to take your place; get the fuck out of my sight.”

 

Perfect

The days after the Orlesian Warden leaves is the closest to peaceful he’s ever seen Vigil’s Keep: Anders is able to wander the keep’s walls and the nearby village with little issue, Warden-Constable Howe nags him when Anders skips his duties, Sigrun joins him in playing with Sir Pouce-a-lot, and Thais allows him to study to his heart’s content, but Justice’s liquefying gaze remains ever-fixed to some troubles on the horizon.

 

Moth

He watches a moth, fluttering around the torch; somehow, his watching is what allows him to notice the squad of Templars, demanding the abomination to handed over.

 

Refrain

Anders doesn’t leave behind a full letter explaining his absence, but the least he—we, Justice inserts, making Anders involuntarily shiver at the new voice in his head—is leave behind a simple thank you note to the Warden-Commander as he leaves her care under the cloak of night; the bodies of army and Templars and the words of the refugees are more than enough for Thais to learn what has become of them.

 

Bribe

Passage to Kirkwall is hard to obtain, even seven months after the end of the Blight, but Anders had enough coin to sneak passage for himself (and others, on Justice’s annoying impulses) across the Waking Sea; what’s left is enough to grease some palms and smuggle him passed the city’s wall.

 

Photograph

Anders knows he will never get the image of the Gallows out of his mind: the statues depicting crying slaves, refugees trying to sell what they have for a few coppers (It’s a crime, Justice says, but Anders answers, Simple supply and demand.), families huddling together against the night’s chill, and the Guard and Templars alike staring grimly past it all.

 

Family

In the deep streets of Kirkwall, crawling with the never-ending misery of the poor and the refugees caught up in the never-ending fighting between gangs, Anders can’t help but dream of home (the Circle with Karl asleep by his side, Vigil’s Keep with Sigrun and Thais and Oghren drinking themselves blind, even his childhood home in the Anderfels), but even that blurs between Justice’s knowledge and memories (the Fade, a woman in Denerim, a broken-down castle).

 

Grieve

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve done what I can— (Fine, Justice, fine, this is the last of my coin)—please, take this; you’ll need it more than I; and for what its worth, I am sorry for your loss.”

 

Vapor

Justice’s insistence that they needed to do something to change Kirkwall—How can a place like this function when there is so much pain?--is as thick in his head as the air around the docks, but there is only so much a single mage in hiding can do; it and hunger pushes him into Lowtown.

 

Tea

It’s over tea that the proprietor of Fereldan Imports, Lirene, offers Anders a solution: “I have heard tales of a mage in Darktown, who has done what he could to care for those he comes across; sickness is rampant here, and so few of us are medically trained, so if I can get into contact with him, I would love to be able to give ample coin and supplies in exchange for his services.”

 

Medicine

The clinic opens days later, and as Anders tends to those who stumble through the doors, he feels the impulse to do something lessens; with every wound he applies elfroot poultices to, with every fever he breaks with the smallest bit of magic, with every bit of foxmint tea to ease stomach sicknesses, it’s as if he applies medicine to his own soul.

 

Rope

It isn’t long before fresh apostates come to him—some with rope burns, others with bruises and broken bones—and he learns of the crimes of the Kirkwall Circle.

 

Wind

Somehow, news slips on the wind, winding down from the Gallows and into Darktown: a missive for help, and for once, both Anders and Justice’s impulses are one and the same.

 

Crossroads

Sorely Hawke comes for him with a request for help with finding entrances to the Deep Roads, and Anders knows he is at a crossroads, of his past coming to catch up to him and a future he hopes to salvage; fuck it, he thinks, because who doesn’t need help?

 

Summer

The last time Anders had seen Karl was during a summer night; the windows were cracked just enough to let the fresh air in, and the two had taken deep breaths of it as if they were drowning and laughed from the high of pretending they weren’t going to be separated for the next three years; it is this memory that comes to mind when Anders finds his love with the sunburst brand.

 

Candy

Sorely comes to the clinic with a wrapped package of candied fruit (What a waste of money, says Justice, but Anders tells the spirit, Shut up); he offers it, a bit awkward and a bit sad, but Anders sees understanding there, and he has to wonder what this apostate refugee has lost to the Circle and the Blight.

 

Smoke

The Sabrae clan allows them to camp just outside their temporary settlement, as part of whatever deal the Hawke family had made with the Witch of the Wilds; Anders sits on the far side of the campfire, allowing the smoke to obscure the figure that was Merrill, who despite being a blood mage had already gotten Isabela, Sorely, and even the surly Carver to talk with her amiably.

 

Spoon

Merrill passes him a pungent smelling concoction, which he warily sniffs, and she explains, “A spoonful of this a day makes a wonderful tea we give those who come down with the—uh, it translates as the dark blue—but yes, it helps with those who struggle with sleep, which would be perfect for you since you’re always so tired—and snippy.”

 

Forest

It’s easy for him to get lost in the maze of his memories when Justice drives him to distraction; the memories from multiple lifetimes—his, Justice’s, Kristoph’s—crowd together so tightly like an overgrown forest, that at times, it’s hard to remember just who he is in all the mess.

 

Gloves

Sorely, Anders notices, wears gloves often, and he can’t help but wonder what his hands look like.

 

Mirror

Fenris’ situation wasn’t a mirror of Anders, despite what the others liked to say; the elf had one person he could turn his rage on and could then walk under the sun without hiding who he was.

 

Shine

“Wow, what a ball of sunshine you are,” Varric grumbles, taking the offer of a trip down to the Deep Roads for a larger cut of whatever treasure they find down in the darkness.

 

Balloon

Sorely Hawke, too, comes to convince Anders into the Deep Roads, but Anders refuses outright, even as worry and concern for this man surges into him; You are sending them into the dark without a guiding light, Justice nags, but Anders remains firm in his decision, even as those complicated feelings balloon as the days pass into weeks.

 

Vine

The worry constricts around his neck once the expedition reaches the three-week mark; Anders makes an effort to check in on the Hawke family (so, he guesses, does Isabela and Merrill of their own accord).

 

Butterfly

It doesn’t take Anders long to recognize his feelings for Sorely, it’s just annoying that this delicate little butterfly of affection comes fluttering to him just when the man is away.

 

Venom

When Anders learns of Carver’s fate in the Deep Roads, guilt hits all the same—the younger Hawke was a whiny little git, but Blight sickness is a horrible way to go; If we had gone, Justice reminds him, we could have helped find a cure.

 

Remain

Nothing ties Anders to Kirkwall anymore, but all the same, he remains.