Chapter Text
Varric prided himself on his impeccable instincts, but he really had to pat himself on the back when it came to recruiting Hawke. He’d known as soon as he started hearing rumors about her that she was someone he needed to befriend, but it wasn’t until he started following her around and watching her antics first-hand that he realized what a gem he had discovered. Hawke was that special blend of capable and reckless that made for the most interesting heroes, and with the way she was running around the city making enemies as fast as she made friends, she was going to be somebody in Kirkwall in no time.
Better yet, she had started collecting a cast of characters around her who were no less interesting than she was. Varric was amassing writing material faster than he could produce it, but he wasn’t complaining. What a luxury to have so much inspiration that he could actually sift through it for the best bits and discard the rest. And he suspected things were only going to get better from here.
Today they were tracking down a missing Templar. In their search for Keran, they had first tracked down his colleague on the coast only to discover that he had somehow become possessed by a demon. The irony of a Templar who was charged with policing mages in case they turned into abominations turning into one himself was lost on no one, but Anders seemed to be enjoying the joke even more than the rest of them. Eyes narrowing, Varric studied the mage as they walked across Hightown, trying once again to figure him out and failing. Anders defied easy descriptions, and that was probably what Varric found so intriguing about him.
Varric was the one who had tipped Hawke off about the Grey Warden in the undercity in the first place, but he hadn’t expected the man to be so complicated and tragic. Tall enough that even Aveline had to look up at him—and the guard captain was the kind of tall that gave Varric a neckache—Anders was also so thin beneath his worn coat with the ridiculous feather pauldrons that Varric worried he was starving himself. Lighthearted and flirty one moment and darkly sarcastic and bitter the next, Anders was simultaneously fragile and deathly dangerous, not to mention the closest thing to an abomination one could get without actually being one. Anders was a contradiction in almost every way.
“Sorry about your friend, Blondie,” Varric said, hanging back from the rest of the group to fall into step beside the mage. Anders hadn’t said a word about their failed rescue attempt at the chantry a few weeks ago, but Varric suspected there was a tragic tale behind the whole thing and he hated to miss out on a story. “I’ve meant to say that for a while,” he added, “but we haven’t had much time to talk.”
Anders looked at him with a hint of wariness. The mage was sharp enough to know when someone was fishing for information, but he had also been surprisingly open about other details from his past so Varric figured the direct approach was best. “Thank you. I only wish I had acted sooner. If I had, then maybe…” He looked away, a sigh escaping his lips.
“The two of you must have been close.” Varric winced, realizing that he was being more obvious than usual, but Anders didn’t react to his bluntness.
“We were very close once. Even though Karl and I haven’t been together for a long time, it was still awful to see him like that. Being made tranquil was his greatest fear.”
Together, Varric noted, his suspicions confirmed. “You did the right thing, Blondie.”
“It was the only thing I could still do for him.”
Studying Anders more closely, Varric weighed whether or not he should say anything more, but knowing this about Anders made him worry that Hawke’s rather obvious interest in him would become uncomfortable for both of them. Glancing at Hawke’s back and deciding she and her sister had walked far enough ahead to be out of earshot, he said quietly, “Listen, I know it isn’t any of my business, but should I tell Hawke to back off? I don’t think she knows that you…”
Looking at him in confusion, Anders smiled a bit when he realized what Varric meant. “I’m not only interested in men, if that’s what you’re implying. And I can handle a little flirting. In fact, I rather enjoy it most of the time.”
Varric’s eyes widened and he nodded again. “That’s a relief.”
Now it was Anders’ turn to study him, and Varric felt more than a little uncomfortable with the mage’s scrutiny. “What about you, Varric?”
“What about me, what?”
“Hawke flirts with you too, you know.”
“Ah,” Varric replied with a laugh. “Who doesn’t?”
“And you do tend to flirt back.”
Smirking, Varric nudged him with an elbow. “Are you jealous, Blondie?”
A crooked smile crossed Anders’ lips, but the look in his eyes was one that Varric didn’t have a name for. “More than you know.”
Something about his tone made Varric curious, but Anders avoided his gaze after that, picking up his pace to catch up to the others. Striking up a conversation with Bethany, he asked about her training as a mage and that got her talking about her father. Pushing aside his confusion over whatever Anders had been implying with his words, Varric eagerly pricked up his ears to eavesdrop. He hadn’t heard much about the missing patriarch of the Hawke family. Apparently Bethany’s father had taught her everything she knew about magic, and it was obvious by the way she talked about him that she admired him greatly. But when Bethany looked fondly at Anders and said he reminded her of her father, Varric glanced ahead at Hawke, wondering if her attraction to Anders had more to do with daddy issues than the handsome mage’s mystique. Maybe he should be discouraging her attention after all.
“And here we are,” Hawke said suddenly and Varric realized they had already reached their destination. Pausing beneath the red lanterns outside the Blooming Rose, Hawke turned back to look at the rest of them. “No day in Hightown is complete without a visit to the brothel, right?”
“Maybe I should stay outside?” Bethany asked uncertainly.
Hawke shrugged. “Only if you want to. This shouldn’t take long.”
Bethany’s curiosity won out and she followed her sister inside, looking around with wide eyes at the scantily dressed workers mingling with men and women from every walk of life. The brothel really was the great equalizer, a place where people from every fractured corner of the city could rub elbows–among other body parts–without recrimination. Varric had never been terribly fond of the place himself. He preferred for his company to want to spend time with him for a reason other than coin, but he also understood how vital businesses like this were to the city’s shadow economy.
Anders sighed as soon as they stepped through the door, muttering under his breath. “If someone tries to hire me again, I’m leaving.”
Grinning, Varric looked up at him with a joke ready on his lips, but he held his tongue when he realized that Anders was serious. Of course that had actually happened. The mage was sort of helplessly attractive and yet seemed so accustomed to his looks and preoccupied with his causes that he forgot that he was anything out of the ordinary. Not even his ratty coat and worn appearance could tarnish that glow; in fact they only made him look more the part of a desperate beauty willing to sell his physical assets for some quick coin. A little worried now about Anders’ safety–not so much because the mage couldn’t defend himself but because defending himself in a place like this would reveal him as an apostate and put him in even more danger–Varric lingered by his side as they made their way through the brothel, ready to pull him close and pretend to be his buyer himself if they ran into trouble.
Gasping, Bethany stopped in her tracks suddenly. “Is that Gamlen at the bar?”
Hawke laughed. “Of course it is. What a charming uncle we have…”
Groaning, Bethany shook her head. “We can’t tell mother. She’d be horrified.”
Luckily, they were able to avoid Gamlen as they tracked down their mark, a woman named Idunna, “Exotic Wonder from the East,” after Hawke worked her own brand of magic on the brothel’s madam and gained access to her books. They found Idunna in a room off the main chamber, and she was equally charming as she was beautiful. Varric instinctively liked her for no reason he could define. She had a mesmerizing way of talking, and Varric found himself watching her lips with a little smile as she spoke, his head tilting to follow her as she paced the room.
He couldn’t figure out why Hawke gave him a dirty look when he suggested they should be gentle with her. “What are you talking about, Varric? We’re here to find out what she knows about Keran.”
“Yes, yes,” Varric heard himself say, heat spreading through him as he added, “But certainly there’s no harm in mixing a little business and pleasure?”
“You should listen to your friend,” Idunna suggested in a voice like honey.
Scowling, Hawke returned her attention to Idunna. “As charming and relentless as you are, I’m here to investigate.”
Varric lost track of the conversation then, his eyes tracking every movement Idunna made as if she were performing for him alone. It wasn’t until he heard the fear in Hawke’s voice that he realized something was wrong. Looking up at her, he saw that Hawke had drawn a dagger and was slowly lifting it to her own throat, Idunna miming her actions across from her with a wicked smile.
“Anders?” Hawke gasped through gritted teeth, the hand holding the blade shaking with her effort to fight whatever Idunna was doing to her.
Lifting a hand with obvious effort, Anders grimaced as he worked a spell, and whatever it was, it did the trick, the air filling with static electricity as if whatever Anders had done to break Idunna’s control had left loose magic behind. Shaking his head to clear it, Varric was stunned to realize that he had fallen into a trap.
“How did you? Oh...shit.” Idunna’s confidence crumbled as her eyes darted back and forth between Anders and Hawke in fear. “Please, spare me.”
“She’s a blood mage,” Anders hissed in disgust.
And that was all the reason Hawke needed to kill her.
Shaking off the fog of magic still clinging to his mind, Varric avoided looking at the woman as she crumpled to the floor. “Maybe we can find answers somewhere around here,” he said in a raw voice. “And then a cold shower.” He felt Anders press a hand against his shoulder, and as much as he really didn’t like the idea of having more magic used on him, he was relieved when he felt a cleansing rush of magic clear away the remnants of whatever Idunna had done to him. “Thanks, Blondie.”
Idunna obviously relied on her magic to protect her since she left enough clues behind that it was easy to track her cabal of blood mages to their hideout in the undercity. Arrogant and violent, they were trying to recreate ancient Tevinter in the middle of Kirkwall, and they had targeted Templars specifically to flaunt their power. Anders no longer seemed amused by the irony. Varric was also developing a new appreciation for how dangerous a mage could be with a demon on their side, but they happened to have a mage bolstered by a spirit on theirs and Hawke was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry.
Once the mages were dealt with, they turned their attention to the Templar held in stasis in one corner of the room. They’d found Keran but it was impossible to tell from simply looking if the blood mages had already turned him into one of them.
“Anders,” Hawke said uncertainly. “Can you tell if Keran’s been possessed?”
Frowning, Anders shook his head. “In spite of what you’re thinking, I don’t actually know what it’s like to be possessed by a demon. But there’s a pretty easy way to find out if he is.” He lifted his hands to fling a burst of electricity at the Templar. Keran reacted in pain, but did not fight back, a look of betrayal in his bright blue eyes. Anders shrugged. “If there was a demon in there, it would have defended itself. Looks like he’s safe.”
“Well, that’s one way to test a theory, I suppose,” Varric muttered, amazed by how Anders always managed to surprise him.
They walked Keran back to the Gallows and Hawke reported to Knight-Captain Cullen about what they had learned. In spite of Anders’ plea that she avoid going into any details that would make the Templars even more vigilant than they already were, Hawke didn’t hesitate to tell him about the horrors the blood mages had planned in addition to everything they had already done.
“Those mages see the rest of us as ants to be crushed,” Keran said, adding fuel to the fire Hawke had already thrown at Cullen’s feet. The Templar recruit’s gaze drifted toward Anders with resentment, and Varric looked up to see Anders’ jaw clench with frustration. “They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed the Chantry and the Templars forever.”
“The Templars have good reason to be vigilant,” Hawke agreed.
Hands clenching at his sides, Anders said through gritted teeth, “We’re not all blood mages.”
Varric looked at Cullen in concern. It was a pretty horrible idea to announce you were a free mage in the midst of the Gallows, and in front of the Knight-Captain no less, but luckily, Cullen didn’t appear to have heard Anders.
“Not every mage gives into temptation,” Cullen said, still focused on Hawke, “but none are ever free of it. At any time, any mage could make the wrong choice and turn into a monster, from the lowest apprentice to the most seasoned enchanters. Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me.”
Hawke grimaced at that and glanced at Bethany who was practically hiding behind her, arms clasped around her waist as if to defend her from prying Templar eyes. She looked no more pleased with this conversation than Anders was and was acting twice as nervous at being in the Gallows. Hawke turned back to face Cullen and finally responded with a neutral comment that eased no one’s mind, and Anders had evidently heard enough.
Worried Anders would do something rash, Varric glanced back at Hawke to confirm she had the conversation covered and then followed after him. He found Anders crouched on the edge of the docks, arms wrapped around his legs and head bowed down to touch his knees. Marveling at his flexibility, Varric hovered a few steps away, trying to think of something he could say that would make Anders feel better. He had mostly made a habit of avoiding the struggles between mages and templars, but he could see the flaws in the arguments of both sides. The fact that the situation seemed ultimately irreconcilable was the main reason he had avoided it. He didn’t like problems without solutions, and the only way to solve this one was for one side to have power over the other.
Lifting his head and looking out over the water with an empty expression, Anders said softly. “I know him. Cullen.”
“Really?” Varric moved closer so that he could hear Anders clearly.
“He trained as a Templar at the Circle in Ferelden. I escaped from there before joining the Wardens.”
“Do you think he recognized you?”
Anders shook his head with a frown. “If he did, do you think I’d still be walking free?”
“Blondie…” Varric felt a strange emotion clench at his chest, feverish in its intensity. He’d never before wanted to get in the middle of a fight between mages and templars, but he knew in that moment that he would not be able to let any Templar attempt to shackle Anders without standing in the way.
Standing up slowly, Anders sighed. “I’m heading back to my clinic. Will you let Hawke know?”
Catching his sleeve, Varric studied the expression on Anders’ face before letting him go. “Be careful.”
A smile warmed Anders’ face, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Varric.”