"Simple answer first - he survived by being present at Vigil's Keep when it's overrun, scratching up a genlock, somehow dodging shrieks, and finding his own corner to stay safe. And I'm glad I took him into the Deep Roads, as he helped with excellent bat-and-dodge moves more than once. And now for the long one."
He sits back and picks his cup back up, sipping his tea before he starts in. "Seventh escape attempt. I got captured. It was most definitely to be my last; everyone knew what was coming if I tried it again and failed. As they hauled me back, we stopped at Vigil's Keep where they had a few handy cells. That night, while I was still wearing those lovely cuffs that mean no magic, the Keep was, as mentioned a moment ago, overrun. The Templars died right up against the bars of my cell, and I stayed in the corner because what else was I supposed to do? No magic, darkspawn everywhere... After a lovely little stalemate, the darkpawn moved on."
Another sip. He doesn't like remembering any part of being in a cell or held, and tea helps.
"I took my chance, fished in one's pockets for the keys, got out of shackles and cell, and ran. I got perhaps fifteen feet before I saw someone screaming for help, so I started setting Darkspawn on fire. I was setting more on fire when the Hero of Ferelden," Purrelden's ears perk up and she comes to his hands to headbutt them. With a smile, Anders resumes petting her, "showed up with a little entourage, and I wound up helping liberate the Keep. When that was done, I was about ready to run again. Instead, another Templar turned up. And accused me of murdering my guards. The ones covered in Darkspawn wounds, like teeth and claw marks. I got called a few names, everyone got informed of how I was to be taken back and killed... and then Jonas stepped in and offered me conscription."
Anders shrugs. "Given my options, the choice seemed easy. And that's the short version of how I became a Grey Warden."
She nudges Remi with her fingertips, allowing the kitten to bat and gnaw upon them gently as Anders tells his tale. Some of what Detlef had told her makes more sense filtered through the light of Anders' identity, his experiences. Running for seven times- a few attempted to flee the spire, she knew. What became of them remained a mystery. Murmurs abound, of course but-
No one ever learned the truth. No one thought to ask.
There's something admirable in that futile determination, really. Not much of something but something none the less.
"And...what would the long version be?" They have time, and tea. Why not hear it?
He's quiet for a few moments, sipping his tea again.
"It's got more details, like hearing the fantasies of my captors when it came to my upcoming execution. There'd been mounting frustration since my second escape; knowing that I was already skilled with healing didn't help win anyone over. When the first screams reached our ears, they didn't budge at right away. They were too pleased with themselves.
"There's the technicality that Jonas actually offered me a chance to run before the confrontation and I made it to the wall before realizing that there was still fighting going on and I couldn't just run, so I went back rather than seizing the best chance I would ever have. The Templars probably had my phylactery with them, I could have been presumed dead and they probably wouldn't have been searched before being burned, but no."
He exhales. It's not like he could have lived with himself if he'd kept running.
"Fighting through the Keep itself was brutal. I couldn't focus on healing alone, not even when Oghren joined us. There were so many of them, and that was my first day even seeing Darkspawn. You read about them, but seeing the ruin they can make is... It's something you can't wrap your mind around until you see it. I didn't want to join the Wardens, but at least it was a group I could find a common cause with, a cause I believed in. Mm. There's things that come after in that first week, like us coming across a would-be assassin in the cells and then him getting conscripted, but generally the longer version is just more details. Blood and fear and plenty of yelling about how I'm a maleficar because of the dead Templars I clearly hadn't killed."
"Is this a common occurrence- the random conscripting of those that happen to be about in times of crisis?" Felix's indoctrination- for she cannot view it as anything but that- seemed less a thing done out of need and more out of pity. That they held off for so long- that they might not have at all due to the fact that he wasn't a skilled mage or good at much of anything-
It burns, still. A small wound that has not yet healed, that may never heal. Whatever the Wardens truly are more than the tales, whatever they are good for? She has yet to see more than the trouble they make for those around them.
That her primary points of contact are Alistair, Anders, and Nathaniel likely does not help matters much in this regard. One mostly useless, two politically complicated for very different reasons, though one is more universal in his complication and one is more rooted in Fereldan politics that she never truly bothered to mind. "Did they not check your palms or arms for wounds? That is the most common step in clarifying such an accusation."
"I... The official stance says no, that they seek people to be Wardens after spending time as a recruit. The truth of the matter is that few would volunteer to be a Warden except during a Blight, and they generally don't have time for training then. If the Wardens are to keep their numbers up, they have to make offers to those with no other options. Myself, Nate, Teren, Bethany, Felix, we were all of us about to die for various reasons. Velanna had lost everything. I don't know about the others, but I'd wager most of them had no choices left."
His words are quiet, thoughtful. It's not exactly above-board, either. No one knows that they're not getting a whole other chance at life until after they join, and no one knows they might die while Joining.
"And while your question is entirely logical, there are a few things to remember. One, healer. I'd have no cuts if I went maleficar. Two, she was angry beyond logic. You know how it is - no one gets a third escape attempt. Two tends to be when they kill them. It was simply that I had a rare gift, and a great deal of it, that I survived, and the Templars who had been so pleased with themselves for bringing me in that second time found all of their satisfaction and sense of justice thwarted. The anger mounted with each escape and every time I survived another punishment. What's worse for them is they thought the sixth punishment would end me." He gives her a bitter smile. "It nearly did. But as you can see... So there was no reasoning with her. There was no reasoning with any Templar from Kinloch Hold. I was a sign that their power was not absolute, and they were furious."
"That inspires a great deal of confidence in the organization as a whole." No, no it doesn't. They've always been odd and fickle and strange to her, the Wardens. That they would swoop in after waiting for so long with Felix has not helped her opinion on the matter. Alistair certainly doesn't. The last bastion for those that have nowhere else to go, that would likely be jailed or killed otherwise?
It makes her wonder for a moment what Teren could have possibly done to end up among their company.
"I cannot speak on that particular circle as what little I know comes from second or third hand and is incredibly biased. But situations like that- it is what the Seekers are for, a point of authority to prevent abuse that would prompt attempts to escape." But the system as a whole was too bloated, too overcomplicated to manage any manner of consistency. "It is neither here nor there, I suppose."
He snorts and gives her a wry look as he rubs underneath Purrelden's chin.
"There's nothing I can really do to sell them as more confidence-inspiring. Except to point out that the Grey Wardens aren't simply giving those of us who've committed crimes mercy. They give an offer of a useful death. We hunt darkspawn. One day I'll be too slow, or a batch will break through the line of warriors, a portion of the Deep Roads will crumble beneath my feet, and so on. And most who are recruited to the Wardens deserve better. Bethany and Felix did nothing wrong. Teren was a scapegoat. Nate was foolish. And I just wanted freedom; there was no blood on my hands at that point. The Warden organization as a whole is... questionable. But the individual Wardens, for the most part, were out of options."
Few of them deserved to be infected with the Blight and dying a long, slow death if something else didn't get them first. He did now. Velanna had murdered a lot of innocents as well. Most? Hadn't done anything.
"And the Seekers could, would have done nothing for me. I need the sky, breezes, the sun. There was nothing noble about my escape attempts. My first one was spurred by harshness as well, yes, but also because I simply needed to be outside. Things got worse from there. But everything that influenced my first attempt, and even almost everything that influenced my second, was entirely legal in Seeker eyes. ...But so long as the Circles are not revived, you're right, that doesn't matter here."
"Did they not have windows, in Kinloch?" To need something so fundamental- in the Spire they had windows, they had opportunities to go out and see the surrounding area- if only under heavy supervision. She herself was permitted to travel quite a bit and while she knows very well that not all Circles were half so kind- that even her own was nowhere near as Kind as she thinks it to be-
"It was a former fortress, re-purposed. There were a few slits high-up, but it didn't have a great many to begin with. And then, mm. Someone jumped into the lake and swam for miles in an escape attempt and we weren't allowed outside anymore." In case his wording didn't make it clear who the 'someone' was, his face tells the whole story.
"It only ever takes one to lose a few privileges. I suppose that did not make you terribly popular among your fellows." From what she had heard he had it hard enough from the Templars. TO be someone that lost them one of their freedoms? She has seen how groups weather such punishments.
Not well. And that is among teenagers for lesser, temporary losses.
For several moments, Anders stares at his cup of tea. Eventually he looks up and shrugs. "I was past caring, at that point. The Templars had already taken everyone who mattered away, in one way or another. The only hope I had, the only hope I wanted to have, involved getting out."
"What manner of circle does not encourage the forming of bonds between its mages? We are not to be falling in love or fucking around, this is true, but to leave any mage feeling so isolated is to invite despair or possession." Which. Well. Case in point: Anders.
"And what's wrong with love or fucking around? They're things that people do; there should be no reason to disallow them. And the Templars wanted me possessed so they could kill me. It's not speculation. I just wound up possessed sometime after I got out, and then not the way they intended." One year in that dungeon, that cell, knowing what they wanted... Mr. Wiggums and stubbornness made a very powerful combination.
"Strong emotions draw demons." That much is simple enough. "Partly due to chantry prudishness and partly from a practical aim not to have to deal with a pregnant mage."
It's impractical, it's dangerous, it's selfish. She'd learned that lesson well enough in her youth after a fashion.
"And yet there's hate and anger and resentment and pain, all of which are far more likely to draw demons than love. Love leads to hope, leads to someone willing to make sacrifices for the person they care about, not demons. And as far as pregnant mages go... for one, it's another cruelty to deny families and children to people who may want them. For another, that can be dealt with by having witherstalk in the drinks of women who are in relationships with men. There are ways to do things that don't require denying the personhood of mages."
It's natural. It's life. It can be painful, but it can bring joy and everyone deserves a chance at it. Or more than one.
"Look at the world as it was ten years ago, as it is now, and tell me you would wish to raise a child in it. That you would take the risk of that child having magic, knowing all that comes from such things." It is foolishness. It is dangerous, that optimism, and that he cannot or will not see that is-
Well it is par the course, truly.
"The apostate familes that are able to manage have my admiration and respect- but they were raised without a great deal of what makes life most dangerous for mages in regards to spirits and demons. They lack the knowledge to shape them adversely. Those that were brought up in circles? Cannot unlearn what they were taught."
"I would not want to have had a child ten years ago, no. And I know that I'd be a lodestone around any child's neck now, but if things were otherwise? If I was not me, had not done what I did? Yes. I would take that risk. There will be a future in this world. I cannot act as if it is otherwise."
He exhales, no longer certain that they're talking about hypotheticals.
"Those who were held by the Circles can slowly heal and learn to live, learn to leave some of the fear that's been relentlessly driven into them behind. It is not easy. It will never be easy. But life... It's there. Waiting. Worth risking."
"There will be a future but it is yet uncertain. It is ever uncertain, all the more so for mages. The Inquisition will not last forever, it will not protect us forever. That those here have the opportunity to live as they wish- I am glad for them. But we cannot ignore the risks." It would be irresponsible to do s. "I neither condemn nor condone such things as I see them now, for it is not my place. But I shall consider it unwise all the same."
"Says the one who at least lived a little after the ball." And maybe, possibly, at a dance that feels a lifetime ago and he wishes he'd handled differently.
"Please take off the Councillor robes and teacher's hat sometimes, Adelaide. You're working toward the better good, but you don't have to focus solely on that." Justice is bristling as Anders talks, but this is important. What's the point of equality if they hide from it? "There is nothing that is certain. Corypheus could attack Skyhold tomorrow. Leliana's talk about equality could be for nothing and she could be deposed by Cassandra and Cullen and we could find ourselves held once more. You hold a position of importance, you're respected, and you're also a person, Adelaide."
"Something done between two consenting individuals with all due precautions taken." It hadn't been terrible, that night. All told it'd been quite lovely and were Martel not...well...Martel perhaps it would have been worth keeping that door open for future nights she might not have wished to spend on her own. But Martel will ever be himself. But there is no love there- not in the way that most would think, and there would be no child.
"A person that is content with her work and pleased by her students, that is satisfied with the relationships I have built. Simply because I see no reason to take the risks you do does not make me less of one." Someone must be mindful. Someone must stand firm. Besides, she has too much to do and not enough time already, how could she possibly fit a courtship into her life?
"Content and pleased are good, and you're not less of a person no matter what you do or do not do. But are you happy?" He might not have the right to ask her that, but he cares. Possibly more than he should. Probably more than he should, and if he could cut back he would.
"And what business is it of yours?" They are- something. Not quite friends entirely for the distance she must maintain outside this tent and for all that she has not forgiven him, and likely never would, for what he'd done. Detlef she might have told.
But this is not Detlef. This is not a man just as tired and just as burdened by their vocation.
His lack of facial reaction might say just as much as anything visible would - Anders rarely has a blank face.
"Perhaps it's not." Maybe one day being pushed away would hurt less and he'd accept it and move on, leave what he feels in the dust. Today is apparently not that day. He stands and inclines his head as Purrelden scampers into his open palm. "Thank you for the tea. I'll look into our embrium stores, and tell Nate you're alive later, unless you choose to do so."
Kitten goes into pouch, and he's ready to go unless she asks him to stop, which he figures is highly unlikely.
Adelaide supposes Nathaniel received her message as well and that, perhaps, she does have at least one extra appointment for the day that ought be bumped up. Or maybe she could get away with a simple call. That might be best, truly. Anders she watches with little more than a cool look, fingers still idly batting at Remi's paws.
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"...How does a cat survive a Darkspawn attack?" That is the greater question. "...How is it you became a Warden in the first place?"
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He sits back and picks his cup back up, sipping his tea before he starts in. "Seventh escape attempt. I got captured. It was most definitely to be my last; everyone knew what was coming if I tried it again and failed. As they hauled me back, we stopped at Vigil's Keep where they had a few handy cells. That night, while I was still wearing those lovely cuffs that mean no magic, the Keep was, as mentioned a moment ago, overrun. The Templars died right up against the bars of my cell, and I stayed in the corner because what else was I supposed to do? No magic, darkspawn everywhere... After a lovely little stalemate, the darkpawn moved on."
Another sip. He doesn't like remembering any part of being in a cell or held, and tea helps.
"I took my chance, fished in one's pockets for the keys, got out of shackles and cell, and ran. I got perhaps fifteen feet before I saw someone screaming for help, so I started setting Darkspawn on fire. I was setting more on fire when the Hero of Ferelden," Purrelden's ears perk up and she comes to his hands to headbutt them. With a smile, Anders resumes petting her, "showed up with a little entourage, and I wound up helping liberate the Keep. When that was done, I was about ready to run again. Instead, another Templar turned up. And accused me of murdering my guards. The ones covered in Darkspawn wounds, like teeth and claw marks. I got called a few names, everyone got informed of how I was to be taken back and killed... and then Jonas stepped in and offered me conscription."
Anders shrugs. "Given my options, the choice seemed easy. And that's the short version of how I became a Grey Warden."
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No one ever learned the truth. No one thought to ask.
There's something admirable in that futile determination, really. Not much of something but something none the less.
"And...what would the long version be?" They have time, and tea. Why not hear it?
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"It's got more details, like hearing the fantasies of my captors when it came to my upcoming execution. There'd been mounting frustration since my second escape; knowing that I was already skilled with healing didn't help win anyone over. When the first screams reached our ears, they didn't budge at right away. They were too pleased with themselves.
"There's the technicality that Jonas actually offered me a chance to run before the confrontation and I made it to the wall before realizing that there was still fighting going on and I couldn't just run, so I went back rather than seizing the best chance I would ever have. The Templars probably had my phylactery with them, I could have been presumed dead and they probably wouldn't have been searched before being burned, but no."
He exhales. It's not like he could have lived with himself if he'd kept running.
"Fighting through the Keep itself was brutal. I couldn't focus on healing alone, not even when Oghren joined us. There were so many of them, and that was my first day even seeing Darkspawn. You read about them, but seeing the ruin they can make is... It's something you can't wrap your mind around until you see it. I didn't want to join the Wardens, but at least it was a group I could find a common cause with, a cause I believed in. Mm. There's things that come after in that first week, like us coming across a would-be assassin in the cells and then him getting conscripted, but generally the longer version is just more details. Blood and fear and plenty of yelling about how I'm a maleficar because of the dead Templars I clearly hadn't killed."
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It burns, still. A small wound that has not yet healed, that may never heal. Whatever the Wardens truly are more than the tales, whatever they are good for? She has yet to see more than the trouble they make for those around them.
That her primary points of contact are Alistair, Anders, and Nathaniel likely does not help matters much in this regard. One mostly useless, two politically complicated for very different reasons, though one is more universal in his complication and one is more rooted in Fereldan politics that she never truly bothered to mind. "Did they not check your palms or arms for wounds? That is the most common step in clarifying such an accusation."
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His words are quiet, thoughtful. It's not exactly above-board, either. No one knows that they're not getting a whole other chance at life until after they join, and no one knows they might die while Joining.
"And while your question is entirely logical, there are a few things to remember. One, healer. I'd have no cuts if I went maleficar. Two, she was angry beyond logic. You know how it is - no one gets a third escape attempt. Two tends to be when they kill them. It was simply that I had a rare gift, and a great deal of it, that I survived, and the Templars who had been so pleased with themselves for bringing me in that second time found all of their satisfaction and sense of justice thwarted. The anger mounted with each escape and every time I survived another punishment. What's worse for them is they thought the sixth punishment would end me." He gives her a bitter smile. "It nearly did. But as you can see... So there was no reasoning with her. There was no reasoning with any Templar from Kinloch Hold. I was a sign that their power was not absolute, and they were furious."
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It makes her wonder for a moment what Teren could have possibly done to end up among their company.
"I cannot speak on that particular circle as what little I know comes from second or third hand and is incredibly biased. But situations like that- it is what the Seekers are for, a point of authority to prevent abuse that would prompt attempts to escape." But the system as a whole was too bloated, too overcomplicated to manage any manner of consistency. "It is neither here nor there, I suppose."
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"There's nothing I can really do to sell them as more confidence-inspiring. Except to point out that the Grey Wardens aren't simply giving those of us who've committed crimes mercy. They give an offer of a useful death. We hunt darkspawn. One day I'll be too slow, or a batch will break through the line of warriors, a portion of the Deep Roads will crumble beneath my feet, and so on. And most who are recruited to the Wardens deserve better. Bethany and Felix did nothing wrong. Teren was a scapegoat. Nate was foolish. And I just wanted freedom; there was no blood on my hands at that point. The Warden organization as a whole is... questionable. But the individual Wardens, for the most part, were out of options."
Few of them deserved to be infected with the Blight and dying a long, slow death if something else didn't get them first. He did now. Velanna had murdered a lot of innocents as well. Most? Hadn't done anything.
"And the Seekers could, would have done nothing for me. I need the sky, breezes, the sun. There was nothing noble about my escape attempts. My first one was spurred by harshness as well, yes, but also because I simply needed to be outside. Things got worse from there. But everything that influenced my first attempt, and even almost everything that influenced my second, was entirely legal in Seeker eyes. ...But so long as the Circles are not revived, you're right, that doesn't matter here."
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That seems a bit overdone. To not have windows.
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Not well. And that is among teenagers for lesser, temporary losses.
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It's impractical, it's dangerous, it's selfish. She'd learned that lesson well enough in her youth after a fashion.
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It's natural. It's life. It can be painful, but it can bring joy and everyone deserves a chance at it. Or more than one.
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Well it is par the course, truly.
"The apostate familes that are able to manage have my admiration and respect- but they were raised without a great deal of what makes life most dangerous for mages in regards to spirits and demons. They lack the knowledge to shape them adversely. Those that were brought up in circles? Cannot unlearn what they were taught."
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He exhales, no longer certain that they're talking about hypotheticals.
"Those who were held by the Circles can slowly heal and learn to live, learn to leave some of the fear that's been relentlessly driven into them behind. It is not easy. It will never be easy. But life... It's there. Waiting. Worth risking."
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"Please take off the Councillor robes and teacher's hat sometimes, Adelaide. You're working toward the better good, but you don't have to focus solely on that." Justice is bristling as Anders talks, but this is important. What's the point of equality if they hide from it? "There is nothing that is certain. Corypheus could attack Skyhold tomorrow. Leliana's talk about equality could be for nothing and she could be deposed by Cassandra and Cullen and we could find ourselves held once more. You hold a position of importance, you're respected, and you're also a person, Adelaide."
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"A person that is content with her work and pleased by her students, that is satisfied with the relationships I have built. Simply because I see no reason to take the risks you do does not make me less of one." Someone must be mindful. Someone must stand firm. Besides, she has too much to do and not enough time already, how could she possibly fit a courtship into her life?
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"Content and pleased are good, and you're not less of a person no matter what you do or do not do. But are you happy?" He might not have the right to ask her that, but he cares. Possibly more than he should. Probably more than he should, and if he could cut back he would.
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But this is not Detlef. This is not a man just as tired and just as burdened by their vocation.
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"Perhaps it's not." Maybe one day being pushed away would hurt less and he'd accept it and move on, leave what he feels in the dust. Today is apparently not that day. He stands and inclines his head as Purrelden scampers into his open palm. "Thank you for the tea. I'll look into our embrium stores, and tell Nate you're alive later, unless you choose to do so."
Kitten goes into pouch, and he's ready to go unless she asks him to stop, which he figures is highly unlikely.
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Complicated. Why is this so terribly complicated?