[Open] No boom today. Boom tomorrow.

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Anders and anyone! Or, well, almost anyone. Sorry, Fenris and Cullen...
WHAT: Anders arrives at Skyhold, takes a new fake name, and tries to get a measure of the Inquisition while keeping a low profile. Starting in prose, but will switch to brackets to match if that's preferred!
WHEN: Mid-haring
WHERE: All over Skyhold, choose your location?
NOTES: Warning for Anders? I can't think of any real ones atm, I'll update if that changes.

He's tired, but that's nothing new. The road's been long. It shows in the way he leans a little on his staff, a fairly generic-looking thing that's far from his old appreciation of things flashy, just as it shows in the state of his rather ragged-looking robes and the scruff of a beard that he doesn't exactly like. At least he's not dead on his feet - the company of a few refugees more than willing to bear the brunt of conversation on the way up had made the last couple of days more bearable than usual.

Now he's here, and the strain is back on his shoulders. Skyhold holds more than the usual level of danger but there's no getting around the fact that he has to at least visit this place. The Inquisition is likely to be a player in the future of mages, and Anders will not see the little bit of progress made be undone out of fear, or laziness, or naivete, or any other number of things that could cut down freedom for his people.

But that doesn't mean he knows how to go about working toward that, just yet. And that means he's slowly going around the fortress, gathering information by listening and asking simple, short questions. They have to be short. The second-to-last thing he can afford is to slip up and let Justice get too accusatory, which could lead to the last thing he can afford - to be recognized by someone who would turn him over to the 'authorities,' such as they are.

"Have you been with the inquisition long?" is one of the most frequent questions, along with a follow up if the answer is yes: "Do you think they treat mages well here?" It's not like he's hiding the staff, after all. But there are more simple questions mixed in as well, questions about the need for herbalists or healers, about where one might find a warm enough corner to sleep in, or where one can lose what few coppers they have over a game of cards. They're general. Careful. They have to be. He's no longer ready to die.

Comments

[hugeinorlais]

Of course Anders hadn't thought ahead, why Varric was surprised by that, even he didn't know, and he regarded the human with a long, heavy look. He wasn't going to deter Anders (of all people) from doing what he'd set his mind on, especially not with something as flimsy as logic and reason, but Hawke had been fairly fond of Blondie and...that counted for something.

Varric sighed and pressed his palm against his forehead as he thought. The Inquisition was pretty full now-a-days and it was entirely possible that Blondie could slip through the cracks...but that was a thought that bordered on optimistic, wasn't it? Fenris could spot him, or Cullen, and he'd be outed faster than Sera at a fancy party...but if Varric could say anything on Anders's behalf, he was pretty good at avoiding capture...or was he good at escaping afterward? Shit.

"Alright," Varric agreed grudgingly and lowered his hand from his face. "Don't get too detailed about Detlef until I can arrange a few things."

He couldn't set up a false identity that would hold up under Leliana's scrutiny, not if his life depended on it, but he could try to buy Anders a bit of credibility. It wasn't quite on Hawke's level of problem-solving, but it was the most Varric could do. If nothing else, it would assuage the dwarf's conscience whenever Anders's cover was finally blown.

"And avoid the rookery like it's Meredith's office."

[justice_is_blond]

"You mean that." It was more whispered than spoken. Varric was still trying to help, which meant Anders had sold him so far short... He almost wanted to ask why, but he was afraid of what the answer might be even now.

"I've no way to thank you, Varric." Sure, he'd helped with Bartrand, but Varric had also helped arrange guards at the Clinic, and they'd been even. Varric owed him nothing. The sheer kindness he was showing was almost overwhelming. Overwhelming for Anders, that was. Justice was unfazed. There should have been better options for mages all along, which would have made this not required. He had a point, in Anders' opinion, but it wasn't a strong one. In Kirkwall he'd lost sight of everything for the cause, swept up entirely in emotion and obsession. He didn't want to do that again.

"And I'll avoid the rookery. I planned on staying mostly to the tents with patients to start with." The rookery made sense, for a spymaster. "There are plenty of mages who have no desire to speak about their pasts, and so they don't pry into the pasts of others. It's not as risky as you might think, there."

He just had to somehow keep Justice from taking control, or from slipping up and giving too many details, or walking into a handful of people who know his face, or from walking into the Grey Wardens present. Somehow.

[hugeinorlais]

For all he didn't think ahead, at least Anders was more than halfway decent about thinking on his feet. Now that Varric had shoved him, headlong, into thinking about avoiding capture and, thus, potentially getting one or both of them stabbed, he seemed to be rolling with it. Varric would have been relieved if he didn't already know that the worst possible scenario was more an inevitability than anything else.

"Yeah, just--" Varric wasn't doing this for thanks. He didn't do much for thanks, not anymore, and that was a strange epiphany to have while chatting with Blondie of all people. Briefly, he wondered when he'd started doing things just because they were right, but that cheerful caravan of thought took a hard detour right into a mental graveyard and Varric abandoned it.

"Don't worry about it," he added, cut himself off almost, and shook his head.

He dragged a hand through his hair, didn't consider whether helping Anders counted as right or wrong, and shot the human an almost tired look. He didn't feel like he had enough information to debate the relative safety of large groups of semi-injured, refugee mages, but Varric was still fairly certain that Anders was underestimating the risk involved in hanging out among them. Any road, it wasn't like Varric could babysit the guy, or that he could really do anything to stop Anders from doing whatever he was going to do--Maker, this was stressful.

"If anyone asks, say you're a huge fan of my books. Once I have...I don't know something set up so that Detlef isn't just a weird name, I'll pass you the details in a copy of Hard in Hightown."

No, wait. Too many people here actually read Hard in Hightown.

"No--better use Swords and Shields. Nobody reads that." Yeah, that sounded better.

[justice_is_blond]

He'd spent a great deal of his life running away. It was nothing new. Granted, he'd also been caught many, many times, but at least he knew something about trying to hide. In theory. They at least hadn't caught him in Kirkwall and he'd been running a clinic with a lantern. Ignore the fact that he'd had help from Hawke and Varric both in that, and the way the guard hadn't exactly been looking in his direction no matter how unimpressed he'd been with Aveline.

...Okay, he wasn't great at staying free, but at least he was great at getting free.

And also great at making the people who gave a care about him tired, as evidenced by the way Varric's looking at him. It's hard to sort out what he should be doing, what he owes people and who he should be, when he has a spirit clamoring in his head about what needs to be done and how others don't matter when there's injustices to be worried about.

Anders looks equally tired as he looks past Varric. The Dwarf is putting himself at risk for him. Despite Justice's opinion, that matters. That matters a lot. Which means that Anders is going to try for a little bit of the old humor, no matter how difficult it is to bring back up when the weight of what he's done rests between them.

"Maybe if you put more heaving bosoms into Swords and Shields people would pick it up more. Swords and Shields even sounds prickly and stiff, and not the good sort." It's weak. Very weak. But it's a try because he owes Varric more than he can pay back. "Also I'll have you know that Detlef is a perfectly good A-- name for people from the Anderfels. Very common, with enough of them that no one would be surprised to meet another."

[hugeinorlais]

Even Varric wasn't sure which part of that was more funny--Swords and Shields was not, in fact, lacking in heaving bosoms, but the idea that Detlef was a common name in the Anderfels, that there were crowds of unfortunate, haggard assholes named Detlef was too much--and the laugh that it startled out of him was probably louder than it should have been. He caught himself quickly, but the dry look he leveled at Anders was far, far more amused than it had any right to be.

"I'd say it's a shame we're not in the Anderfels but, seeing as I don't really care for Darkspawn, I'm really not that torn up about it," Varric replied and took a deep, resigned breath.

Anders's presence had the potential to spark at least a dozen different catastrophes of varying horror and severity, but for all that risk, there was some benefit to him being here. Much though Varric lamented his actual presence, Anders was pretty competent when it came to healing and, Maker knew, the Inquisition could have used a few more healers up until this point. Shit, if Anders had been around when Corypheus attacked Haven--

No, there was no use going down that merry little path. He'd already done it enough times to know that it wouldn't ever make a difference.

"Alright, well, Detlef, I've got records to falsify, apparently, and you have laying low to do...between healing people and helping mages in general. Subtly, if possible."

If Anders had been around when Corypheus attacked Haven there would have been demons...

[justice_is_blond]

He shot a confused look at the Dwarf at the laugh, unsure of what had been that funny. Was it really the name? Seriously? Then again, it's not like he has a whole lot of fondness for the place he'd been hauled out of.

"You'll accept the epithet the Templars gave me, but you don't like an actual name from the region? And I'll have you know the Anderfels has a great deal more than Darkspawn. It has cows." There was very little that's serious about his voice. Cows, deserts, religious fanatics, and too many Wardens for him to ever be able to risk going back. It was pretty, though.

"But yes. I'll... work on the subtle part." Stick to drab robes, avoid most Templars, try not to get into too many arguments... the last part was the hardest but the most important. Any glow and he'd be dead. His voice went softer. "Thank you, Varric."

The words would never be enough, considering what he'd done, but maybe in time some of his actions could mitigate a portion of the debt he owes this man.

Well, *more* demons.

[hugeinorlais]

"Like I said, don't worry about it."

Between the disconcertingly long list of people who could identify him and the potential ramifications if Varric aiding him came to light, they both had more than enough to worry about. Having Anders thanking him for every little thing (as though this was on par with helping him carry a heavy parcel or running an errand) was unnecessary and, frankly, just reminded Varric of the moral grey area he was firmly ensconced in.

Varric cast a look to either side of their partially obscured conversation spot, at the crowd that milled and moved and shuffled through Skyhold almost perpetually. Everything looked clear but Varric knew better than to count on that sort of assessment. He looked back at Anders--Void take him, Anders was actually here--and motioned idly over his shoulder.

Anders, to his credit, looked like he really meant that bit about being subtle.

"I'll uh--" How exactly did somebody say a temporary goodbye in a situation like this? Shit, had a situation like this come up before? "Talk to you later, Blondie. Remember, subtle."

With that, Varric nodded (somewhat stiffly) and stepped out into the crowd. It wasn't his best exit but, hey, he doubted Anders was going to judge him for it. He didn't head straight back to the Great Hall, a direct route was just begging for trouble and, perhaps more importantly, Varric really needed a drink before he got down to business.