Apostates of Amaranthine chapter 101

[amhran_comhrac]

Title: Apostates of Amaranthine: Chapter 101
Characters: Anders/f!Amell (Maggie)
Rating: M/AO (this chapter M)
Word Count: around 3000
Summary: Unlikely hero Maggie Amell attempts to rebuild the Grey Wardens and deal with continuing threats from the darkspawn, while trying to fit into a world that's a far cry from the tower. All this while the Chantry seems to wait around every corner, eager to remind her and Anders just what they think of mages who manage to escape Circle control.
In this chapter: Sometimes even Maggie has to admit she's not entirely right in the head. Like my confessing her desire for a murderous rampage.





So I realized half the reason I wasn't updating was because of how long chapters had gotten. Averaging 6 to 7k each meant they all took a LOT of time. What's worse is that, since I don't want too many things happening each chapter in terms of major plot events, would start to include more and more filler. I've been averaging about 3k a chapter for my other stories, and figured that was a decent length.


I couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped my lips when the royal coach thundered away.

"I thought you liked kids," Anders teased.

"Apparently I like when they go home, too," I said. "Maker's ass, they're more exhausting than a fight!"

There had, just as Alistair had feared, been an attempt on their lives. Someone broke into the palace and was, thanks to Zevran and Leliana's people, swiftly captured. The public still thought of them as princes, however, even if they were mages. At his execution the crowds rushed the barricade, managing to force their way past the guards. He was ripped apart.

I can't pretend I was sorry to hear that.

When things remained calm for several weeks, save the beginning of whispers that the assassin had succeeded due to the disappearance of the boys, Alistair decided to bring them home.

Both wearing robes identical to the Grey Warden mages, they scrambled out of the house into their parents' arms. "What are you wearing?" Aliatair asked, somewhat horrified.

"Uncle Anders gave us robes like his!" Duncan announced.

"They came all the way from the Tevinter Inperium," Bryce added.

"Of that I have no doubt," Alistair said. "Seems like quite a bit is coming from there these days." Turning to me, he made a face. "You had my boys for three months and already managed to destroy their fashion sense?"

"I think they look very handsome," I protested. "You know those aren't just wool. They're blended with silk. And the embroidery is real silver."

"The griffins eyes aren't actual sapphire, though," Anders admitted. "Just glass. But the claws are amber!"

"How... nice," Elissa said, sounding as horrified as her husband. They didn't know anything about fashion, though. Both of them had small armies of people to pick their clothing out every day!

Jowan and Aidan passed by as we spoke. "Looking good, boys!" Aidan shouted with a wave.

"Maker, maybe being a Mage does make you incapable of dressing normally," Alistair mused.

Jowan walked over, looked at the royal couple in panic, and stuck out his hand in greeting. Retracing it immediately, he decided instead on a sloppy bow. "I never know what to do around you," he admitted.

"Yes, well... I suppose that's mutual," Alistair said stiffly.

"I just wanted to let you know they're very talented," he said. "Especially for having no training until now... They'll be marvels in no time. Probably better than me by the time they're twenty."

Alistair did look pleased by that. "Better than Maggie?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I said the were good. Not that they were freaks of nature," Jowan replied. "Be glad, I think she sacrificed part of her sanity for ice spells."

"I'm right here," I pointed out.

Jowan smirked. "And share with us what you did yesterday?"

"Nothing special," I said.

He laughed. "She had to be pulled back from setting someone in a tavern on fire after overhearing him wonder why anyone still cared about the Grey Wardens when the blight was so long over."

"Deserved it," I said. "Stupid idiot had a decade on me. Like he couldn't remember the blight or something!" Alistair only laughed and I invited them inside.

"So… what's going on with Tevinter?" I asked him once we were inside. The boys were packing their things in their room next to ours.

"Take a guess," he said. "They want us to form an alliance of some sort. As though that wouldn't end disastrously." He sipped his drink. "Can you even imagine? I think the Divine would personally lead the charge against us."

"True," I agreed. "And they would know that."

He shrugged. "I think they're sick of being alone in the world. While I can't blame them for that, I won't ally Ferelden with a country that practices slavery."

I couldn't argue with that.

We made small talk, but neither of us had much news to share. Beyond the proposed, and swiftly rejected, alliance with Tevinter, Alistair had nothing new from Denerim. "Of course there's rumors they caught magic from you," he laughed when I asked. "Have you ever talked to some of the people in this country? Half of them still really believe the Old Hag is responsible for harsh winters!"

"I don't think it's right for you to make fun of your people," Elissa said, although I could see the corners of her mouth twitch.

"Let's go with the raised in a barn excuse, then," he said. "I get a lot of use out of that one."

"Speaking of your childhood," Anders said, leaning closer, "how's your mother."

"Fine," Alistair said carefully.

"Fine?" we both replied at once.

"Well…" he began. "I'm happy. Don't get me wrong. But…"

"But?" I pressed.

"But she spent half an hour lecturing me on how letting the two of you watch the boys was a dangerous idea. And whenever someone comes to see me she hides. We were having lunch together when Teagan stopped by… I went to see him in and she was gone. Turns out she hid in a closet to avoid letting him see her!"

"What?" I burst out laughing. The idea of Fiona cowering behind the mops and brooms was too bizarre.

"She keeps saying it's for my own protection. She's honestly afraid my rule will be undone if people find out about her."

"She may be right," Anders said, "but I hardly think Teagan is a great threat."

"He's not," Alistair said. "And I told her that. After pulling her out of the closet myself." He shook his head. "And Teagan was perfectly polite. More than polite, really. He was charming. Teagan-charming."

"Teagan-charming?" I said.

"Oh, don't play dumb. You know how he is. Even you were tripping over yourself when he started up with the 'my lady' stuff and the calling you lovely. It was hilarious." He paused, smirking. "Fiona was worse. She blushed."

"I can't imagine how," I said. "Orlesian men are a thousand times worse. I felt like half of them were wondering what I looked like under my robes."

"As opposed to the Ferelden men who most likely already know?" Alistair said.

Laughing, I elbowed him. "Hey now, those days are long behind me."

"I know. I heard the men of the circle had a funeral themed get together when you got married."

"Thanks," I said. "Anything else you want to add? You know my husband is sitting right here."

Alistair gave me a look of shock. Turning to Anders he shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this… but… she wasn't a virgin on your wedding night."

"Scandal!" Anders laughed. "Ah, I figured that," he said. "There's only so much one can attribute to beginner's luck and natural talent. But really… I'll take skill and expertise over the alternative any day of the week. I don't think any virgin could do the things she can with a well-applied frost spell." Anders smirked, looking at Alistair. "And there's the blush. Good to know we can still get to you."

"I'm almost afraid of the day you can't," Alistair admitted. We shared dinner together and, the next morning, they were gone.

Things were calm, or as calm as life among the Grey Wardens can ever be, for months. I was working outside, helping a few of the younger mages get used to casting spells under a distraction, when one of our wagons thundered through the portcullis.

"Tobias?" I called, walking over. He hopped down. "What's going on?" They should have been well on their way to the front in Orlais.

"Borders are closed," he said. "We were turned away near Orzammar. Tried to go south and around, but the same thing there."

"Closed?" I tried to figure out why, and came up with nothing. "Our side, or theirs?"

"Both, I think," he said. "King's men said they were closed, but we were welcome to try. They made it pretty clear that Orlais didn't want anyone entering, either, though. Figured it wasn't something you would want us fighting them on."

"True," I agreed. "Could you send a letter across?"

"Gave it a shot," he said. "By boat. No idea if it'll get there. No one is taking passengers into Orlais, either, though." He looked suddenly chilled. "Boss… do you think they… that it…"

"No," I answered quickly. "No. If it woke you wouldn't need to ask. Believe me."

"Not like I have a choice about that," he said. "You're the only one we've got that would know."

Going back inside, I managed to hunt down Nathaniel in one of the training rooms. "Problem?" he asked.

"Maybe?" I said. "Wardens were turned away at the border."

"What?" He looked ready to hit something.

"Not for being Wardens," I stressed. I should have probably considered my words more carefully. "The border is closed to everyone."

"That can't be good," Nathaniel said.

"No, it can't," I agreed. Groaning, I pushed my hair back from my eyes. "You think I should get to Denerim?"

Nathaniel seemed to consider that. "Might as well," he said after a moment. "You're still a member of the Landsmeet. If you don't leave soon they'll probably summon you in a couple days. The king doesn't normally have the authority to just close the borders without a vote, so it has to be something serious."

"Oh good," I said. "Should be fun."

Anders and I left the next day, setting out on horseback, dogs at our sides.

We left that night, in our small two horse coach. The dogs began barking as we neared Denerim. Cresting the top of a hill, I could see why.

"Captain!" I called to the armored man leading the forces from the city. "What's going on?"

He looked at me with a start. "My lady," the man said with a salute, "your guess is as good as mine. Probably better."

"But where are you going?" I asked.

"To guard the border," he said. "Damned if I know why."

"This can't be good," Anders said quietly as we continued on our way.

I couldn't think of any reasonable argument otherwise.

We took up in an empty guest room kept on reserve for me at the Warden compound. Dropping our bags, I let Anders worry about getting us settled in while I rushed to the palace.

"Mags?" Alistair looked up with a start. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," I said. "What is going on?" Sitting across from him, I glanced at the papers on his desk. Most were, to my surprise, written in Orlesian. "My men were turned away at the border. Why?"

"Blast," he muttered shoving the papers aside. "I'm sorry. I should have made sure the guards knew Wardens could come and go. It totally slipped my mind that you've been sending people…"

"The potential of waking an archdemon slipped your mind?"

"Well, sure, when you say it that way it sounds awful," he said. "But if I said, oh, 'I'm so worried about the potential of an Exalted March that I can't focus on anything else' it's much more understandable."

"What?" I said, nearly falling from my chair. "Why?"

"Apparently," he said, tone not hiding any bitterness, "my sons are proof of the Maker's displeasure with Ferelden."

I stared at him in shock. "That is utter and total bullshit."

He handed me a sheath of papers before pulling it back. "Sorry," Alistair said. "Forgot you can't read Orlesian. Here's the translation."
"I'm working on it," I said. It was true, too. I had been devoting several hours a week to learning Orlesian. "It's hard."

"I didn't think so," he said with a shrug.

I bit my lip. "No, I mean... When I was there. I didn't know what the templars were saying. It was better that way. Now I know."

Alistair stared at me blankly for a moment before he figured out what I was talking about. "Maker, I'm sorry," he said. "I never even thought of that."

"It's all right," I said.

Shaking his head, he looked thoughtful. "I can't imagine any of us could hope for better treatment now if they succeeded."

"So make sure they don't," I said. "I can't give you my Wardens, they can't be seen as taking sides, but you have me. I'll take a leave of absence if I have to."

"Will they let you?"

"Will I let them stop me?" I countered. "After what happened to me... Well, the Chantry made it very personal. And the First Warden knows that." Without asking, I walked to the sidebar and poured myself a drink. I figured we were well beyond those formalities. Removing a pouch from my pocket, I sprinkled a few pinches of blue dust in, swirling the whiskey in my hand to mix it.

Alistair looked at me and sighed. "Really, Maggie?"

Sipping my drink I could feel the vice clamped around my head begin to loosen. "Not like I've got a choice," I said. "You know how my life is. This was inevitable."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why?" I asked. "I'm can afford it. And I'm one of the few people in Thedas with completely unrestricted access to lyrium. I'm not suffering."

"How long?" he asked.

"Couple months. Anders could get me put to rights, but all his work would be undone the moment I get in another fight." he looked ready to say something else and I coughed gently. "Warden, Alistair. About fifteen years now."

"True," he said after a moment. "I forget about... that. Sometimes."

"Wish I could," I said. "Anyways. We've found the one topic worse than what we had been discussing. Bravo for us. Now back to telling me when I can start killing templars. Soon, right? Please say it's soon."

"Don't be too excited," he said, pausing to slide a piece of paper to me.

I glanced down, skimming the royal seal and formal language. Finished, I read it two more times. "Is this a joke?"

"No," he said.

"Yes, it is," I said. "This isn't real."

"I called for the Landsmeet two days ago," he said. "No one has gotten here to vote yet. Why do you think it's not signed or sealed?"

"Because this is a joke," I said.

"No, it's not," he repeated.

"You can't name me Supreme General of the whole country's armies!" I said. "Are you insane?"

He sighed. "You're the best for the job."

I grumbled, tossing back the last of my drink. "There's several reasons this is a bad idea," I said. "First, I'm Commander of the Grey. I can't be that and head of the Ferelden armies."

"It's a temporary position," he said. "Until the conflict is over."

"Second, that's… not a real thing, even. The king is the supreme general of the army. Not someone else."

"It wouldn't be the first time," he countered. "Don't you dare make me say his name."

"Don't you dare put me in the same category as him," I snapped back, surprised Alistair would even be willing to acknowledge Loghain's achievements in life. "The only thing I know about commanding armies is what I learned from him. And I'm not half as good."

"Bull," he said. "You're better. You take more risks, and they usually pay off." He stared at me. "What else?"

"I…" the words were in my head, but I couldn't quite figure out how to say them. 'Because I'm crazy' seemed too much an exaggeration. "I can't be trusted with this," I said. "Not against them." He stared at me and I winced. "I don't want to get into this."

"Maggie, I need you. Ferelden needs you. Tell me what the problem is."'

Sighing, I got up and refilled my glass. "Because… I'm not right," I said. "Ever since Orlais." Struggling to explain, I sat back down. "I dream of killing templars. Constantly. I see them and, if it isn't one I know personally, it's all I can do not to attack on site."

"Considering we're going to war against templars I don't quite see the problem."

"If we do well?" I said. "I can't take a surrender from them. If they try I'd probably stab the messenger. I know it. I'll either cause a bloodbath, or die trying." I stared at him. "And you have no idea how badly I want to. Maker, I want to scream that I'll do it and march tonight. Part of me doesn't even want to talk about this because if you have any sense you'll find someone else and all I can think of is how much I want to kill them all."

Alistair gasped and made a quick motion. I felt my skin tighten and looked down in time to see ice receding on my hands.  "I… get your point," he admitted.

"So you'll find someone else?"

"No," he said. "But… I get your point."

"So… knowing I want nothing more than to turn your armies into my personal force for revenge… you still want me in charge?"

Alistair only laughed. "You're not a politician, Maggie. Look at it this way… I also know nothing other than death could make you admit defeat."

I could only laugh at that. "How are you even sure this will happen? Have they declared war?"

"Maker, no," he said. "They want to surprise us, they won't declare war in advance. We've got one of our people inside the Divine's residence as a handmaid."

"You trust her?" I said.

"Well, Leliana says she's one of the best she's ever seen," he said. "And… it is your cousin." He looked at me and made a noise of concern. "Mags? What's wrong? Don't you trust her?"

"What?" I said. "No, no, not that… I trust her. Just… Maker, even Catherine learned Orlesian before me?"

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