didifuckingstutter (
didifuckingstutter) wrote in
faderift2018-01-23 10:37 pm
Entry tags:
[Open] You can take the Captain out of the Gaurd....
WHO: Character(s) Aveline + You!
WHAT: Aveline has been "promoted" to Emissary of Kirkwall.
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: It's a PR nightmare for Kirkwall's newest ambassador. Food shortages, cold weather, and people are turning blue.
WHAT: Aveline has been "promoted" to Emissary of Kirkwall.
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: It's a PR nightmare for Kirkwall's newest ambassador. Food shortages, cold weather, and people are turning blue.
It had been all of 48 hours since she had been told she would now be an Emissary of Kirkwall instead of Captain of the Guard. To say the news hadn’t been taken well was a understatement. She was well aware that she was probably the worst choice for this sort of thing, but the point was made that she was the only choice. It didn’t do well to inspire confidence, but, there was little left to argue about after that.
They required her to attend etiquette lessons with a pompous ass who delighted in teasing her about her un-femininity so much she ended up socking him in the jaw halfway through. But, she now knew the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork, so she counted it as a success. She was given a frilly new uniform, which immediately refused to wear and a “compromise” was eventually reached after some heated words were exchanged. She would still wear her own armor, but she would also be swathed in a half cloak with the Kirkwall crest on it, to make her easily distinguishable.
This, of course, was before everything had gone to pot. Things were a mess before, but now things had become dire. The people of Kirkwall were desperate for food, for warmth, and especially for a glimmer of hope that things would turn around somehow. The guard were on round the clock posts to try and keep the populus calm, but they could only do so much. She would never ask her guard to do anything she would not do herself, so she had parked herself in the main entrance to lowtown, hoping to calm as many as she could. She had “requisitioned” (strong armed) two carts full of blankets, and several dozen loaves of bread to pass out to the citizens until she could approach the Inquistion for aid.

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Before he can try ducking around the cart and hiding, the tuxedo cat on his shoulder hops down and strolls right up to Aveline, rubbing her face against the woman's boot. Maker take him, she and Lirene are the two people he's most hoped to not run into and his luck is awful as always because someone would of course look to where the cat came from.
"There's... a similar outreach in Darktown," he says, voice very hoarse.
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"Well, hello there," she whispered, and then looked up to see who-
The world came crashing to a halt, and she was certain she must be hallucinating. Because there was no way, no way, Anders had the balls to come back to Kirkwall. He was clothed in Warden robes. She knew Ander's thoughts on the Wardens, and they were anything but fond. He wouldn't just be parading around in them for kicks. Or would he? She had almost convinced herself it wasn't him but then he spoke, and it was his voice. His fucking voice ringing in her ears clear as a bell. She didn't even really hear what he said.
She felt herself flush with anger, and her feet stomped over to him without her even thinking about it. She tried to remain calm, remembering all the lectures she'd been given about keeping her temper in check and how she couldn't beat up whoever she thought deserved it now that she was an ambassador. But he was here, after all this time he'd come back. She scowled at him, grinding her teeth together to keep herself from screaming at him in front her men. If anyone knew who he was....
"You. Me. Alley. NOW" She thumbed over to alleyway behind and a little to the left of where the carts were set up.
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As soon as they're in there, he's talking, voice pitched low enough that he's not sure how she can hear it over the pounding in his chest.
"I'm not here to cause trouble, I'm no longer possessed, I've been staying out of your way and now you're suddenly not on any of the usual patrol routes. You're here instead." Which he hadn't expected, and he wonders if it's due to the illness the rifters and Templars seem to be going through. He's been so busy working that he hadn't even thought to find out if patrol routes or guard duties had changed.
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A lot of work to avoid her in particular. Only her it seemed.
Her heart clenched a little at that thought. Their last conversation had been...rough to say the least. To be fair, he had just blown up the Chantry and plunged them into a civil war, but their relationship had always been rocky. She had extended a branch out to him over and over, and always he found some way twist her intent. She did what she could to help him. Lessened patrols around his clinic, and took his words to heart about treating Mages as equally as she could. And for all his bitterness, she knew he was a good person. Narrow sighted, but the same had been said about her time and time again.
Was he truly no longer possessed by Justice? He looked the same, but on closer inspection she saw the bags under his eyes, and how his shoulders hunched. He looked like shit, truth be told, and she knew he was vain enough to take care of himself unless something serious had happened. That took some of the wind out of her sails, but not much.
"I'm no longer Captain of the Guard." She hissed as she balled her hands into fists, trying to keep herself under control. "What are you doing here? Why in Maker's name did you come back? I know you are no idiot. You know what will happen if you are caught."
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No longer Captain of the Guard is a surprise that has him blinking. Why? She'd always been diligent, and this had to be a recent development. ...Or it's possible the guard he's paying off just hadn't seen that as important.
Anders contemplates the questions, visibly looking past her as if considering still making a break for it. That would be idiocy, though, so he sighs and leans against the alley wall, petting his cat as stress relief.
"The sane wardens, the ones not under influence of Corypheus," because she saw how things went down in the guy's prison, "are with the Inquisition, working alongside it to bring him down. I'm... I'm back with them. It's complicated. I joined the Inquisition to help a little and then die, and then the Wardens decided they wanted me alive. It's official and everything, so I'm, they can't kill me, but it could be a mess, which is why I'm keeping my head down while I help. Why aren't you Captain of the Guard anymore?"
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"You went to the Inquisition to die?"
That did not sound like the Anders she knew. He was a fighter. He was passionate, and once he dug his heals into something, he didn't back down. It was something she always admired about him, even though it drove her insane and often drove a wedge between them. But the man before her seemed to lack the bravado he once had, and lacked the spark, that flicker he had inside him. Had that been Justice? Had loosing him meant loosing that part of himself? Was that why he actively sought out his own death?
All of her ire dissipated. She could not scream him. Not now. She reached out to him tentatively, then pulled back. He had never sought comfort from her, and to try to do so now would likely be unwelcome. She cared for him, in her own little angry way, but she was awful at expressing that concern with words. And then the explosion happened, and she had never been so angry. Angry beyond measure. But years alone had given her time to think, to stew, to reflect. Her anger dulled, and she was left with sadness and loss. Perhaps she was not the only one.
"What has happened to you?"
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Anders takes a breath and meets her eyes. He'll try honesty. If it backfires, at least he'd given it a fair shot. "I killed something like a hundred people, and some of them innocent." For a long time his belief in it being justified and needed had sustained him, but that barrier had eroded bit by bit. Now it's Nathaniel's faith in him driving him, the faith of a growing number of friends who didn't have to shout to be heard over Justice.
"I spent so long fighting and running and hearing Justice's desire for more only increase, and I decided to try to do a little good to add to the unbalanced scales before the end because I was tired." He'd lost everyone, time and time again. His friends in the Wardens, Karl, his network, Hawke and her party, and then even the rebels had pushed him out. Anders was not made to be lonely.
"I'm..." He trails off, giving her a weighing look before continuing. "I'm better now. In a better place mentally and emotionally, if not physically." He is always going to feel negatively about Kirkwall. It took Karl from him. "I wish the Inquisition had stayed in Skyhold, but at least I can help in Darktown again."
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He did seem different. Less cocky and he seemed... open in a way he had not been before. And she couldn't help but notice the irony of her situation. A mysterious illness was wrecking havoc, and the best healer she knew just happened to be about. The Maker had a sick sense of humor. She wrestled, trying to think of the right thing to do. The right thing to say. She was the Captain of the Guard, and her duty in this should have been clear. But, the change in him made her pause. She had her fill of death, of destruction. It filled every waking hour of her life, and she couldn't bring herself to lock a repentant man away when he could good outside. A thought nagged at the back of her head and she couldn't shake it. Hawke wouldn't want him caged.
She looked at him again, resolved in her approach.
"For years I-" she stumbled over herself, and had to find the words. "I couldn't help but think if I had just...listened more. Been more of a friend to you, I could have stopped it. I know your time here wasn't happy for you."
She paused, knowing she was shit with words, but this next part had to come out right. "Kirkwall's people need help, help you have already been giving. I-I need help. I will do what I can to make things easier for you while you are here. I want you to be able to come to me if you need, and I promise to listen. I may not like what you have to say, but I promise to listen, to be mindful of different solutions and work with you on those solutions. I know better than anyone how hard headed I can be. I know you never felt anything akin to friendship with me, but I hope we can help one another with a purpose that is the same."
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"We weren't friends," Anders confirms quietly, "but we... we could be. I will try to listen in return." The first time around he'd never been able to trust her. The guards had hauled runaways back to the Gallows, she'd been married formerly to a Templar, he hadn't had much in the way of faith in someone upholding the law.
"We both want to help Kirkwall. I hope to help mages on top of that still, help us to stay free, but we've the one thing in common." Anders pushes off the wall and holds out a hand, watching her. He's no longer feeling so nervous; a majority of the wariness has left his expression though he's still a little watchful. Hawke would be happy to see this, he thinks, wherever she was.
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"Agreed." As happy as she was about the lessened tension between them, there were bigger things to worry about now. "Have you seen this blue illness that has been going on? Can you tell me about it?"
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Once he's got the surprise off his face, he's nodding and getting to business.
"I have. It seems limited to Rifters and Templars alone, so I don't see there being any risk to Kirkwall. But it's worrying. I've more than a few friends among the ill,and they're not responding well to magic. The opposite, in fact. Trying to heal them makes the symptoms go away for a short time before they return worse. I'm on my way back from the Clinic for a little more work in the Gallows; we've no leads on cause or cure yet."
There's a little exhaustion in his voice. He's already been working for 14 hours today, seven and seven, and this isn't his first day of very long hours. It was easier to go on and on when he was possessed.
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"Anything you need, I will try to see that you have it. Have you eaten? Slept?"
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"I, um." Anders shakes his head. "I've someone making sure I sleep at night. Do you remember Nate? Nathaniel? We found him in the Deep Roads, and he came and helped fight Meredith at the... end. He's, we're, he makes sure I sleep."
The other question isn't answered. Deliberately. He'd grabbed a piece of fruit this morning and then launched himself into healing and work on finding a cure, and that's absolutely not going to pass muster.
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"Tall, brown hair, gravelly voice, foolishly loyal. Yes, I remember Nathaniel." She sighed, and let out a ghost of a laugh. "I always thought you had more charm than sense at times, and Nathaniel seemed a dependable sort of man."
Everyone needed someone to lean on. That was painfully apparent to her now that she had no one herself.
"It is good that you have someone. But you didn't answer my question about food. So that probably means you haven't eaten anything substantial. We should fix that. Do you need anything else?"
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The look he gives her as he shifts his cat back to his shoulder is rather wry.
"Certainty that mages will remain free and treated like people? Corypheus dead? Warm weather? More support for my Clinic? There are a few things I could use. But a meal is at least attainable today, so lead on and I'll follow."
There's a short pause as he straightens his robes and finds more words. "And you can tell me how... how you've been?"
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"Well the first three I can do shit all about at the moment. But, I'll get you support for your clinic, and if there are supplies that you need, I can send people to gather them, or see if we have anything stocked."
"As far as a meal goes, there's always the Hanged Man. The food is still just as horrible, but we could go....for old time's sake." She quirked up an eyebrow. "What should I call you anyway? I doubt calling you by your actual name is an option..."
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"Not like you know my real name," he says with a little amusement. "Garrett is what I go by when people might need to address me in front of non-Inquisition members or non-Wardens."
Anders starts heading in the direction of the Hanged Man before glancing back over to her. "And to answer the next question, I don't even know it anymore. The usual works. Or you can call me Mr. Howe if you feel like being formal. That's... That is an actual name now."
No one will recognize a marriage between two men, or a mage's marriage, but they've traded the vows and that's what matters to Anders.
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"I suspect there is a lot I don't know about you... Mr. Howe, your many names included."
They had made their way to the Hanged Man by now. She paused before opening the door, chewing on what to say, worried about how it would be received. "I'm happy for the two of you. Genuinely." She hoped he would take it a face value, even though she knew it came out a little awkwardly.
She opened the door, and moved to their old band's usual table out of habit more than anything else.
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"I... Thank you." There's no hiding his surprise as he follows her to the old table. Anders pauses again before he takes a seat; while he's returned to the Hanged Man to lurk in the shadowy corners before, he'd not dared to sit here. It takes serious force of will to not look around nervously.
"I didn't see it coming, truth be told." He had a life. After everything he's done and been through, he now has a life. "If there's something you'd like to know I'm a little, mm, more prone to being open. And you should, you should hang out with him. He can certainly do stoic and very serious, and that's your main speed of things." He means it as a compliment, though he's not sure it sounds like one after it's spoken.