faderift | [Closed] This isn't even my final form

There's something absolutely crushing when seeing the expression on a friend's face when they find out you've betrayed their trust. He'd seen it in Kirkwall, in Emprise du Lion, and he's headed to see it again in Skyhold. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone. As usual, though, his intentions and his results didn't quite match up.

When he finds Kallian, Anders clears his throat and joins her where she stands, wishing he had any other news.

"Are you busy?" Likely she can tell from his voice alone that something is wrong, but his facial expression is weighed-down as well.

She looks up from where she's preoccupied, a smile relieving some of the stress from her expression when she sees him.

"Detlef! No, uh, not really. Just making a few extra poultices to keep around the healing tent. I'm... I'm glad you're here, actually..."

Then she notices his face, and she goes a little pale.
"...is something the matter?"

His concern should be for the living, for the one who has so much more ahead of her, and Anders shakes his head.

"You first. You're glad I'm here. Is something amiss?" She's the one person whose life he's changed for the better. She is, in a way, hope. If he's done right by one single person, he's not entirely destructive. He's not entirely gone.

She tucks her hair behind her ears, a little nervously.

"I might have a job," she blurted. "I... I told you my mother was Orlesian, right? She was a bard. She served a family, the du Poivrers, and always promised me when I was little that one day we would go to Orlais and serve a noble house--I presume them. Madame de Fer... She told me she might be able to get me a position with them... or in service to her. She's offered me singing lessons, even, to refine my ability. And... there's a ball coming up. My... first real test in that kind of an environment. She... she wants me to sing for everyone. She even gave me a dress to match my mother's mask, the most beautiful thing, you should see it..."

She pauses, trying to give him a moment to digest the spout of words.
"I... I promised I'd think about it before giving an answer. I admit, I'm scared. Terrified. I've never had so many people looking at me before, and if I go to the du Poivrers, I... might not be part of the Inquisition anymore. I don't know what to say, really. It's my mother's dream for me, but... I don't know..."

"Madame de Fer? Serve at her--no." There's rampant fear in his voice. "Kallian. She's... She's a Loyalist. She believes mages should be in Circles. That they were well and good, and she ignores how harmful they were. If you..."

He takes a careful breath, but it doesn't help much. "Take the lessons, certainly. Sing if you'd like. Wear the dress if you'd like. But don't take the position, Kallian. Please. All it will take is one slip-up, and you're in the hands of people who believe like her, away from... away from any mages who can help you."

He'd almost said away from him, but he's not likely to live much longer, is he? "Here you've protection. Adelaide. Bethany. There are people who will care about you, see you, rather than turn the moment things come out. And they will. They always do."

Clearly they're taking turns spilling out words.

"She doesn't know. About... me being... you know. A mage. I think she sees me as an untrained bard and would set me toward becoming one, like my mother and grandmother before me."

She sighs.
"It's... it's hard to say no. This is the life my mother wanted me to have, that she promised I would have. The name she gave me--I don't mean Kallian, that was a name she gave me so living in a Fereldan alienage might be bearable--I mean Poirefleur--is proof. It's a life much better than most city elves ever get a chance to know. A lady's maid is a gentler position than a street beggar or dockworker... or any number of possibilities."

She shifts her weight.
"At the same time... it feels a little hollow without my mother with me. And... you're right, I would still have to keep my abilities a secret. There may no longer be Circles, and good riddance to them from what Niella told me, but there are always still templars, especially in Orlais..."

She looks up at him.
"Are you absolutely sure I'm safer here with the Inquisition? After Kirkwall, and the Emprise..." She shakes her head.

"A lady's maid is a very gentle position. But it won't last past discovery." No one would want a mage for a maid. "The nobility is horrified by us especially. After all, the key way to have and hold power is to put another group down. The mages, elves, it doesn't matter. And you're both."

Anders reaches over to rest a hand on her shoulder. "There are issues with the Inquisition, yes. It is not yet perfect. But I do believe you'd be safer here than alone in a household where you could disappear and none there would mind. If you'd like to sing, Kallian, you can still learn, and you can still sing. The tavern pays for that, I believe, and there's always visiting people who would care for entertainment. The simple fact of the matter is that if your secret comes out here, you won't be alone. There? You would be."

He takes a shaky breath. "And I wouldn't be able to help you. Because speaking of Kirkwall, the Inquisition had nothing to do with it. I would know. I was there."

"You weren't the one who sent Venatori after us."

She shakes her head and crumples against him.
"None of this is how it was supposed to be. I'm not supposed to be anyone, beneath their notice, and now it's going to be all eyes on me, and the fairytale is being dangled before me and... and... it's overwhelming. I'm scared."

Mages didn't get fairytales. The wonderful, dashing hero didn't fall for them, they didn't wind up at the fancy balls, few deigned to notice them for anything positive. But he'd wished. Oh, how he'd wished, which means he can't blame her for wanting and wishing.

Anders wraps his arms around her.

"Nothing happens how it's supposed to be. But you can have so many people here who will care about you as a person, not just as a bard or a maid. Take what you can with the barding. Learn. Dress prettily. Maker knows I miss fancy robes and jewelry. Live. But do it where you're safe, because the world is not yet the place that I wish it was."

He pauses, trying to figure out what else he can offer. What if his death leads her straight to danger?

"Have you met Bethany? Bethany Hawke. I think you might like her. She's a mage and a Warden, and very caring. And Merrill's not bad, except that-- Just don't let her teach you anything, please. And I'm going off my point. The point is that you can have your dream while not risking everything. You can sing, and you'll not be beggar or dockworker. And when you're found out, they'll have room for another spirit healer."

Two sufficed, and Sam would replace him, but a third would make the work so much easier.

"That is my mother's dream, Detlef. And when I was a little girl, it was so romantic, the glittering parties, the fancy dresses... There's a part of me that never fell out of love with that idea, but I know it's a dangerous world too. That there aren't any happy endings. For anyone. There are reasons I don't know any other family. And I'm not my mother. I never wanted that kind of attention. I know where it leads. To bruises and tears in the night and not being able to walk or sit properly because it hurts too much."

She shudders at the memories.

"I became a healer because I wanted so badly to help the people who were suffering. My mother. Everyone who became sick or got hurt because so many people think elven lives and bodies are expendable. I know a lot of mages didn't ask to become what they are, but I did. I asked for this. I begged for power enough to help, and I got it. But it's as much a danger as a tool."

She sighs and wraps her arms around him.

"I guess I don't know what I want. Except that I want to be able to live without people thinking I need to die. I've met Bethany and Merrill. They're both very sweet. And all I've asked to learn from Merrill are things about the Dalish. That's my other half, after all. Half Orlesian. Half Dalish. Never really belonging anywhere. I'm making some friends here, but I do worry. ...everyone I've cared about up until now, I've lost."

Her words make what he's about to do hurt all the more. So well does he know the pain of losing everyone, and he's been selfish in letting himself get close to people, letting himself matter to them as they matter to him.

"I'm sorry, Kallian. I'm so sorry." His voice is quiet. "If we... There may be a future here. An end to people thinking mages need to die for using magic. The only reason I'm here is because I believe that. But..."

He saved her life. And now he'll hurt her.

"I don't know that I'll be alive much longer. I want you to know that is absolutely not your fault. That it's not related to you. And that if you tell Bethany or Merrill or both that you were a friend of Detlef's, they'll help you all the more. But that's not my actual name. They know me, because they knew me before."

It's risky, telling her. At the same time, he doesn't want her to have any misunderstanding of what's going on. He didn't save her life to break her by vanishing.

"They knew me as Anders."

She gives him a puzzled look.

"...I don't understand what that means. Is that a name I should know?"

For a moment all he can do is stare before he shakes his head. It's not denial, simply surprise.

"It's... It's a name a lot of people know." There'd been no need to mislead her, and that stings. He'd been so worried about self-preservation that he didn't even think to pry. Why would he? His name has been everywhere for some time now. Anders takes a breath and tries to figure out how to explain. Simple, he decides, is best.

"Have you heard of what happened in Kirkwall? The explosion of the Chantry, the death of Grand Cleric Elthina?"

His voice is low, pitched to make absolutely sure she's the only one that hears what he's saying.

"A little. But not much. I heard little bits about trying to rebuild the chantry in Hightown when I was in Kirkwall, but we spent the whole time in Lowtown, and I never saw it. Nobody said anything about an Anders, and I don't know anything about an Elthina," she admits with a shrug. "I heard a little on the way to Skyhold about a destroyed chantry being part of why there aren't Circles anymore."

She shifts helplessly.
"I'm sorry, but even if outside news gets into the alienage, nobody really cares unless it affects us directly. We've got more important things to worry about."

"It's all right." He tries to sound gentle, encouraging. "There's no fault in it. It simply makes explaining a little more difficult. I... Kirkwall was bad from the moment I got there. The lives of mages in that Circle were getting worse and worse, and it got to the point where it was clear the rite of annulment was about to be called for. I couldn't let that happen. But my options were limited. No one listened to the pleas I made, no one cared."

Anders takes a breath. "I destroyed the Chantry, with the Grand Cleric inside it, because she'd been enabling the decay of things. It wasn't her alone inside it, however. There were other people. A chantry is never empty. I hurt... I hurt a lot of people that day. And yes, they were people who wouldn't have cared if it was mages alone slaughtered, but I still wish there had been any other way."

There's a pause, and he gives her one more hugging squeeze. "They want me dead. Those who were hurt, and so many who weren't. If the Inquisition realizes I'm here, my death could hurt mage freedom. Everything I've worked for. If I turn myself in to the Wardens, join them again, my death won't."

At first, she just listens, not sure what to say, resting her head against him. But then, that last part catches her attention, and she looks up at him with wide blue eyes.

"...you're a Grey Warden?"

He almost wants to laugh. All of that, and that's what she seizes on? And then he realizes the fact that she's still there, hearing all of this, leaning against him, means she's not horrified. She's not outraged. She's accepting him and what he's done instead of being afraid, and he gives her the faintest smile.

"Yes. I'm that Anders as well, the one who traveled with the Hero of Ferelden for a short time. Shorter than the first group, at least."

"I wouldn't have survived the Blight if not for the Wardens. The darkspawn... they were in the alienage. I would have been killed or eaten, or... I don't know. But not alive today. I... I owe my life to them. To you. I can't... I can't..." She struggles to finish the thought.

"...isn't there anything I can do to help?"

Anders closes his eyes. It's harder to deny her the means to help, with all she's lost, but at the same easier - she's young and has her whole life ahead of her.

"There's one thing you can do, yes. Live." His eyes open back up and he looks at her, searches her eyes. "Live free. Seize life for all of its risks and possibilities, because you're part of the first generation of young mages who can know what it is to be treated as people."

Gently he brushes her hair back, away from her face. "I can't call my motives entirely unselfish. But people like you are part of the reason I acted. We deserve freedom. Lives. If it is my time to pay the ultimate price for this, it will be worth it to know you're taking the opportunity."

Her lips quiver, eyes bright. Hope kindled into wakefulness, clamoring in her head, crying out to Justice.

"Are you sure there's no other way? I... I could try to say something... If they would listen... I don't know if they would, but... You might have done something bad, but you're a good person. You care about people. I never met my father, but, I'd like to think he'd be someone like you. I just..."

She breaks off, bites her lip.
"Is he sure that this is the right thing to do?"

He can feel the spirit in her seeking for more solutions, and in answer Anders bends down to kiss her forehead. Father. It's exactly what he needed to hear, and also not, because it means he's going to be hurting her with his passing all the more.

"He's sure," he says quietly. Justice is more sure than Anders, even. The attachments hurt to sever, and without Justice's urging Anders isn't quite sure he would have made it this far in the plan, said goodbye to this many people.

"I'll... I'll never have a child, Kalli. But I am as proud of you as if you were my daughter. I believe in you. I believe in your strength and your capacity for love. You will do well, and you will go far." He's not good, but she sees good in him. It says so much about her, and all he can hope is that the world does not break her down. Bethany and Merrill can help see to that.

She drops her gaze, fighting back the sting of tears. But then she nods, doing her best to accept.

"...how much time do you have left?" she asks softly.

"A few hours." Not long. He wishes he had more to give her, but since he'd told Adelaide before returning to Skyhold, the clock is ticking.

"...Would you care to sing something? Something you're working on, maybe?"

"That's all? I was hoping for more than just moments, but..."

She nods.
"I can sing for you."

Her voice is sweet and clear, not quite polished, but she's been trying her best to practice.
"J'attendrai, le jour et la nuit,
J'attendrai toujours,
Ton retour, j'attendrai, J'attendrai
Car l'oiseau qui s'enfuit
Vient chercher l'oubli dans son nid.
Le temps passe et court,
En battant tristement dans mon coeur si lourd
Et pourtant j'attendrai ton retour

J'attendrai, le jour et la nuit,
J'attendrai toujours,
Ton retour, j'attendrai, [J'attendrai]
Car l'oiseau qui s'enfuit
Vient chercher l'oubli dans son nid.
Le temps passe et court,
En battant tristement dans mon coeur si lourd
Et pourtant j'attendrai ton retour

Le vent m'apporte des bruits lointains,
Guétant ma porte, j'écoute en vain
Hélas plus rien, plus rien me vient.

J'attendrai, le jour et la nuit,
J'attendrai toujours,
Ton retour, j'attendrai, [J'attendrai]
Car l'oiseau qui s'enfuit
Vient chercher l'oubli dans son nid.
Le temps passe et court,
En battant tristement dans mon coeur si lourd
Et pourtant j'attendrai ton retour
Et pourtant j'attendrai ton retour

Le temps passe et court,
En battant tristement dans mon coeur si lourd
Et pourtant j'attendrai ton retour."

He listens to her, still holding her close, and a small smile is on his lips when she's finished.

"That's beautiful, Kalli." She really could make it as a bard, if not for the other gift she's been born with. They'd take everything she earned away from her so quickly once they found out. This world isn't fair. But maybe one day...

...one day that he won't see. Anders is quiet for a moment.

"I still have some time, and it's worth it to spend it with you. Would you like to learn an Anders song? ...My people. Not about me, or by me, or anything like that."

[Closed] This isn't even my final form

For KALLI

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