zute (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zute) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
peopleofthedas2011-03-21 07:05 pm
zute) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-03-21 07:05 pm
Short fic: The Compromise
Rating: PG
What if Justice had wanted something different?
The Compromise
His agitation was contagious. "It's too late for negotiations, Anders. You know how Hawke is, she's... reasonable!" He slashed the air with his hand. Vengeance, Justice, whoever he was, prodded the mage internally. "She will try to negotiate. She'll invite Meredith, Orsino and the grand cleric to tea and have them all agreeing to something before long." Anders felt a hot poke into the front of his brain, a stab of pain shot through his head and he felt his control unraveling. "She has to die, mage."
"No!" Anders clenched his head and yelled at the spirit within him. "I will not kill her." His voice caught in an agonized sob and he dropped to his knees, as if to plead with the spirit within him. "I love her." He shook his head, trying to dislodge the idea... or his unwelcome passenger.
"There can be no compromise, Anders, the mages must be freed. The templars must die. Knight-Commander Meredith must die. Come... you know what you must do."
Justice's directive echoing in his head was a painful, incessant drumbeat. Eventually it would win, it always did. It might eventually dim to a constant drone, but he could never block it entirely. Eventually whatever resistance he had would wane and the idea would be established in his mind as if it had originated with him.
"The...the grand cleric. I could kill her." Anders began to hope he could talk Justice into something else. "If I publicly blow up the grand cleric and the chantry there won't be any possibility of reconciliation. Justice...please."
The voice inside him stilled a moment. It was thinking. "Perhaps..." it said tentatively. "Yes, that might be enough."
Anders felt it; the recognition that Justice knew he was trading Anders' life for Doria Hawke's. It was a good death, a martyr's death. It would launch the war that would end the oppression of mages in Thedas. Of the choices, it was the lesser betrayal.
Those last few weeks his every act, every thought, was an apology to Doria for what he would do and all that he would put her through. Justice was mercifully silent just so long as he kept focused on his task and kept Doria focused as well.
In the end, she couldn't do it. She let him live. She hated him even as she loved him. No... she hated Justice. Someday she would find a way to rip that sanity-sucking parasite out of her lover, if it took all the lyrium in Orzammar.
What if Justice had wanted something different?
The Compromise
His agitation was contagious. "It's too late for negotiations, Anders. You know how Hawke is, she's... reasonable!" He slashed the air with his hand. Vengeance, Justice, whoever he was, prodded the mage internally. "She will try to negotiate. She'll invite Meredith, Orsino and the grand cleric to tea and have them all agreeing to something before long." Anders felt a hot poke into the front of his brain, a stab of pain shot through his head and he felt his control unraveling. "She has to die, mage."
"No!" Anders clenched his head and yelled at the spirit within him. "I will not kill her." His voice caught in an agonized sob and he dropped to his knees, as if to plead with the spirit within him. "I love her." He shook his head, trying to dislodge the idea... or his unwelcome passenger.
"There can be no compromise, Anders, the mages must be freed. The templars must die. Knight-Commander Meredith must die. Come... you know what you must do."
Justice's directive echoing in his head was a painful, incessant drumbeat. Eventually it would win, it always did. It might eventually dim to a constant drone, but he could never block it entirely. Eventually whatever resistance he had would wane and the idea would be established in his mind as if it had originated with him.
"The...the grand cleric. I could kill her." Anders began to hope he could talk Justice into something else. "If I publicly blow up the grand cleric and the chantry there won't be any possibility of reconciliation. Justice...please."
The voice inside him stilled a moment. It was thinking. "Perhaps..." it said tentatively. "Yes, that might be enough."
Anders felt it; the recognition that Justice knew he was trading Anders' life for Doria Hawke's. It was a good death, a martyr's death. It would launch the war that would end the oppression of mages in Thedas. Of the choices, it was the lesser betrayal.
Those last few weeks his every act, every thought, was an apology to Doria for what he would do and all that he would put her through. Justice was mercifully silent just so long as he kept focused on his task and kept Doria focused as well.
In the end, she couldn't do it. She let him live. She hated him even as she loved him. No... she hated Justice. Someday she would find a way to rip that sanity-sucking parasite out of her lover, if it took all the lyrium in Orzammar.
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I haven't romanced him, so I'm not emoting along with you in quite the same way as some, but this line has all the stuck-out-chin determination of which I approve :)