Leap chapter 8 - I'm a girl, we like fancy things

[amhran_comhrac]

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Title: Leap chapter 8 - I'm a girl, we like fancy things
Game: Dragon Age 2
Pairing: Mage f!Hawke/Anders
Rating: T for now, eventual M
Wordcount: 3200
Summary: "Watch for that moment...and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap." Malina has spent her life hiding from the Templars, but she's starting to realize fear can be just as much a prison as the Circle.
Chapter Summary: Anders' plan leaves something to be desired

"Are you out of your damned mind?" Carver shouted as they walked through Darktown. "You're insane. You are completely insane. I hope you know this."

Malina groaned, putting her hands to her head. "Shut up, Carver. I need to think."

"What is there to think about? We go back there, you start acting like a normal bloody person and not a drooling idiot, and you tell that sewer mage no."

Varric was staying quiet, glancing between them with barely-concealed amusement. But then, he had a brother, too.

In retrospect Malina probably shouldn't have agreed to his bargain without hearing what he actually wanted first. She had expected some small errand, maybe something to help fortify him against the templars who would certainly be looking for an apostate openly healing people below the city.

She certainly didn't expect him to tell her of an elaborate plan to break his friend free of the Circle of Magi.

"Karl's a Fereldan, like us," he had said, clearly trying to convince her even though she had already agreed. "He was transferred here and, well… the moment I found out I knew I had to help him. Every Circle is bad, but Kirkwall… Kirkwall is the worst." Something about the tone of his voice nearly made her shudder. When it combined with how lightheaded she felt from standing so close to him, since he was trying to keep from being overheard, she could barely do more than nod dumbly.

The plan had already been worked out, well in advance. It seemed he would be going through with it regardless, and simply wanted some extra help. His friend had made plans to go to the Chantry- evidently mages were allowed on occasion, and he was using the excuse of saying prayers for a late parent to do so. While there he would slip away from his guarding templar and hide, waiting for Anders to show up. Templars. Her skin crawled at the word.

"Will you help me?" he finally asked, gaze intense as he stared at her.

Not wheat, she thought briefly. His eyes are the color of bread. Fresh baked bread. As she stared, contemplating this, he cleared his throat and blushed slightly, glancing away. Oops.

"I would help any mage in those circumstances," she said quickly. "Map or no."

It was that line Carver now parroted back at her as they walked back to the Hanged Man. "Seriously?" he said. "I can't believe you said something like that. What, you get within ten feet of another mage and both of you have to start sounding like characters from a bad Tevinter drama?"

"Carver, so help me, if you don't shut up…" she warned, shooting him a glare. He rolled his eyes but, thankfully, went silent. "I need to think." She went over his plan again and again. It was… well, if forced to admit it, it was horrible. It was just shy of actually breaking into the Gallows and carrying this man to safety in terms of horrible. "Too many ifs," she muttered to herself. "If he gets permission to go to the Chantry. If he manages to slip away from his guard. If his guard assumes he snuck out and leaves to hunt for him. If we can get in and out without attracting the attention of the other templars…"

"So why are we doing this?" Carver's silence, as usual, was short-lived.

Malina sighed. "Because…" she fought for an answer.

"Because you want to make eyes at him some more?" Carver supplied, being even less helpful than he normally was.

"Fuck you," she muttered. "We need his maps, this is the only way we can get them."

"Bullshit."

She groaned, putting her hand up briefly to shield her eyes from the glare as they emerged into Lowtown. "Hardly," Malina said. "And… well… I want to help." She remembered the high stone walls of the Gallows, shiny brass statues of figures in anguish along the walls. No one should have to live there, no one.

Carver raised an eyebrow. "Mother would kill you."

"Maybe," Malina agreed.

"Father, too," he added. "Well… if he was…" Carver shook his head. "After all the shit they did to keep you safe you're going to risk it over some guy?"

She grumbled. "It isn't over some guy, Carver. His friend needs help. If it was me, I'd want someone to help." In the back of her mind a memory emerged, walking with her father on a late night road, miles from where she stood now. "Father would have helped him." Carver raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. She suspected he knew she was right.

Killing time, they went to see Aveline, hoping she would have some work to toss their way. Work, and coin, to be more specific. Carver glanced around at the guards enviously, not hiding his annoyance. She could see her brother's eyes linger here and there, mentally comparing various colleagues of Aveline to himself. He didn't look impressed. Malina had to admit, she wasn't, either. Several were playing cards. More than a few smelled of ale, despite the early hour. If that was the standard they held themselves to, well, Carver being a bit of an asshole shouldn't keep him out.

It was an old argument, though, and not worth rehashing.

"I wish you wouldn't spy on me," Malina said, sitting on a bench with Aveline.

"I worry about you," came the response. "With the way you walk around, not even hiding that staff… it seems like the templars are bound to catch on."

"What staff?" Malina said, removing it from her back. "This is a halberd, just like the Qunari use. They're all the rage."

Aveline rolled her eyes. "First, the Qunari use spears, not halberds. Second… if that's a halberd, you're holding it upside down. "

Malina shrugged. "Well, it's a spear, then. A very fancy one. I'm a girl, we like fancy things. Right?"

"You're asking me?" The women's eyes met and both laughed. As they went quiet, Aveline looked briefly uncomfortable. "You… your family… sometimes I feel like you're all I have to remind me of home."

"Is it still home?" Malina said, more to herself.

Aveline considered that. "Not sure," she said finally. "New king now. New Ferelden. I admit… I do like being a guard. Some days more than I liked being a soldier." Malina looked over curiously. "Soldiers… they help people, but it's so distant. You don't much think about some far off war, or the standing army keeping anyone from invading you. Guards, they can help people directly."

"Makes sense," Malina agreed. "I knew you were in it for the glory."

Aveline gasped, sounding like she was readying a good long shout, before she glanced over. Seeing Malina's smirk, she softened, smiling a little. "I should have known you were kidding."

"You should have," Malina agreed, hopping down. It was growing dark outside. "So… two nights from now, then?" Aveline had offered them work, fortunately. Honest, and paying, work.

"Yes," Aveline nodded. "I'll meet you at your house. Tell that uncle of yours if he can't keep his hands to himself I'll be passing them back to him in a bloody sack, though."

"Will do," she said.

"I can't help but notice," Varric said as they left to have a quick meal before heading to the Chantry, "you didn't invite your friend there to help us tonight."

"No," Malina said, "I didn't." She looked over at him and shrugged. "Aveline has this thing for law and order. I suspect she wouldn't much like what we have planned."

"And she used to be married to a templar," Carver added.

"But if you point that out she'll only roll her eyes and say no, she was married to a man, not a templar."

Varric laughed. "You know interesting people. I like that. Interesting people make for good stories."

Malina smiled, chuckling along with him as they walked into the Hanged Man. "You want stories? I'll tell you one with a dragon in it if you're buying dinner!"

They headed to the Chantry, finding Anders already waiting for them near the doors. "In case things go bad," he said, handing her several heavy rolled sheets of vellum. The maps. Malina passed them off to Carver without unrolling them. Anders looked at her curiously and shook his head. "Just let me do the talking" he said, looking pointedly at Malina.

She nodded. Almost unconsciously, her hand drifted towards a pocket. She had stowed several lyrium potions there… just in case.

"I get the feeling your new friend the sewer mage doesn't like you very much," Carver said quietly as they followed him into the Chantry. Without looking over Malina reached a hand out, striking him with a tiny bolt of lightning.

"Bitch," he grumbled.

"Deserved it," came the reply.

Anders glanced back at them in time to see Carver elbow Malina, and her respond with a curse and a threat involving fire. He made a face but ultimately ignored their squabble. "I want to check upstairs."

"I can't sense any magic," Malina mused, following him. "Maybe he left?"

"Neither can I," Anders agreed, face grim. "I don't want to just give up, though. He could be shielding himself, it's not impossible."

"It's not?" Malina said, glancing up at him. He looked at her like she was an idiot and shook his head.

Sighing, she followed behind him, ignoring Carver's snicker.

"Karl?" Anders said, approaching a man in robes.

"Anders…" the man responded, his back to them. Something about his voice seemed… wrong. "I knew you would never give up. I know you too well for that."

Malina wasn't the only one who sensed something amiss. Carver glanced at her and shifted uncomfortably, brushing his fingertips against his forehead. Listening to the monotone, she swallowed roughly and nodded.

Anders ignored them, closing in on his friend and demanding to know what's wrong. "Why are you talking like that?" he finally said, desperation in his voice as he reached out, spinning the man to face him. When the brand on his forehead came into view Anders drew back as though burned and muttered "no," under his breath before stumbling several paces away.

The man talked about mages needing to learn control, about how the templars helped him, and Malina felt bile rise in her throat. "Maker…" Carver muttered, looking horrified.

What Maker, Malina thought, staring at Karl's dead eyes.

Of course, there was a reason this tranquil mage was waiting for them in the Chantry. "Oh shit," Carver said, elbowing her as he glanced back over his shoulder in time to see a group of approaching templars.

"This is the apostate," Karl offered, pointing out Anders.

Run! her mind screamed even as she took the staff off her back and braced herself. Glancing at Carver and Varric, she nodded, letting them know she was prepared to fight. They both responded in kind, readying their own weapons. When she looked over at Anders, he was on his knees, hands wrapped around his head.

Stepping closer, still keeping the templars in her line of sight, she could see he was shaking.

Before Malina could point out that this wasn't the best time to fall apart, the mage was on his feet again.

"What the fuck?" she choked out. Light poured from cracks in his skin, smoke seemed to rise up from him. His eyes, the eyes she had been staring at like a fool only a few hours ago, were now indeed very blue. Completely blue, and glowing, in fact.

He ignored her look of shock. Charging past her towards the templars, his voice echoed off the walls. "You will never take another mage as you took him," he roared. Malina shuddered as he passed. Magic, strange and powerful, was pouring from him.

"What in the bloody Void is going on?" Carver asked, grabbing her arm.

An arrow shot past her. "Later," she said, beginning a spell. "Fight now!"

A templar appeared behind her. "Stealth's cheating," she grumbled before spinning, whipping the bladed end of her staff toward him. He stumbled back, falling to his knees and looking at her with shock. The man mumbled something, trying to move his hands. If forced to guess, she would say he wanted to smite her… but that wasn't likely as several very important looking body parts were now hanging half out of the wide gash in his chest. With a final spell she ended his attempts at retaliation before moving on to another target.

Glancing around, she saw Carver holding his own against a man in a bucket helm, and Varriv laughing from his position on top of a table as he shot out one bolt after another, vocally praising Bianca all the while.

Anders was… well, they were trying to smite him. She could see three glowing templars surrounding the mage. He just wasn't paying attention to their efforts, instead sending out enough lightning to brighten the entire Chantry. Of course, she could also see a great deal of blood, most of it his, but he seemed completely oblivious to that.

She couldn't heal him, not now. While he, whatever he was, might be able to shrug off a smite, she wouldn't be so lucky. Even getting close enough to try would probably be her death. Circling behind the templars, so she was facing him instead, Malina caught his eye and nodded. To her surprise he acknowledged her briefly, meeting her gaze with those glowing eyes and stepping slightly to one side to clear himself from her line of fire.

Now he was facing only two on one.

A few more spells and the last of the templars joined their companions as well.

A shudder went through Anders' body. Stumbling back a few steps, he rubbed his face and looked around. With relief, Malina could see he was normal once more. Ignoring her, he rushed over to Karl. Catching bits of their conversation, she walked over behind him, Carver and Varric at her side. Karl was agitated, panicked even. Realizing what had happened, her jaw fell.

"But… you were tranquil," she interrupted, too surprised to keep quiet. Whatever Anders had done, whatever that spell was, had made a tranquil feel again.

The effect was only temporary, though. It had seemed a miracle at first, but now just appeared to prolong the cruelty. Karl began to beg for someone to kill him. Looking at Anders, he put a hand on the man's shoulder. "I would rather die than live as a templar puppet," he pled. "Please, help me." Anders pulled back, feathers from his robe ripping out in Karl's clenched fist.

Glancing around, he looked at Malina; apparently he wanted to get the opinion of another mage. Varric and Carver might as well have been part of the scenery to him at that point. Looking at Karl, he met her eyes and pled silently for Malina to voice an agreement. "I…" she took a breath, knowing there was no way to soften her words. "I would rather die than be tranquil." It was the truth, she had known ever since her father told her about the procedure.

He nodded. Embracing the man, Anders ignored the returning monotone and whispered an apology before thrusting a blade between his ribs. He spun to look away before the body hit the ground. Muttering "more templars are sure to come. Let's get out of here," his slim frame stalked off quickly.

"What was that?" Carver demanded as they left. "I've never seen you cast that spell, or Father, or Bethany." He gave her a pointed look. "You were as shocked as me, don't even deny it. I saw your face, Malina."

"I don't know what it was," she replied.

"The sewer mage is a bloody abomination!" Carver hissed. "That wasn't even his voice he was shouting with!"

She glanced up at the man leading them out. One slim arm reached up, hand wiping his face, before he pushed open the massive doors. "I… don't think so," she said. "He didn't feel like a demon."

"Feel like a demon? What in the bloody void is that supposed to mean?"

"It means demons feel evil and he didn't," she snapped. "I don't know what it was. But I don't think it was a demon. It… it just felt like…"

"Like what," Carver demanded, hand on his sword. "Tell me now, since you're not giving me many reasons to keep from cutting him down right here."

"It felt like the Fade," she said finally. "Like what that other mage said, the tranquil one. It felt like the Fade itself."

Carver groaned. "Great," he muttered, glaring at her. "Another of your little 'mage secrets.' You tell me something I can't make heads or tails of, and I have to accept it since I have no way to know if you're full of shit or not." They were outside now, the Hightown streets silent enough to encourage them to continue whispering. "Well, why don't you go ask him what that was all about."

Looking over, she saw Anders staring forward blankly, wet tracks on his cheeks. He looked completely broken by what had happened in the Chantry.

"Stop gaping and fucking ask," Carver said, shoving her forward.

With a final glance at Anders, she turned back to her brother. "Now is not the time," Malina hissed. Varric and Anders both turned to look at them curiously. She must have been louder than she thought. Gulping down a lyrium potion, she walked over to the mage, handing him one. He accepted it with shaking hands, swallowing the contents quickly. Some color, not much, returned to his face. Without glancing at himself, he cast a few quick spells and the bleeding stopped. She cursed herself for not thinking of that sooner in all the chaos. "I'm so sorry about your friend," Malina said, not sure what else could be said. Sorry seemed pathetically inadequate, though. She was reminded of Aveline and Wesley in Lothering, and felt that same helplessness all over again. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head. "No… I…." Anders groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Thank you. But I just want to go home."

Nodding, she watched as he walked down the stairs and around the corner, disappearing down an alley and into the night.

---

As I mentioned in my a/n for Stone and Sky, I'm more behind than usual, thanks to a hot date between my laptop and a big glass of water. Behind in reading, lost updates to three of my fics, behind in... well, everything. So... sorry about that.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!