Sign of the Maker part nine

Sign of the Maker part nine

The quiet of Anders's darktown clinic was shattered as boxes tumbled onto the floor, carelessly knocked there as the frightened apostate leapt to his feet in shock. Now he backed slowly away from Alistair, his face a mask of horror, eyes wide and mouth gasping for air.

"No! No, you can't be serious…I can't…"

Alistair had braced himself before he asked the question, but there was no way around how hard this was going to be. He set his jaw and stood, facing the mage whose amber eyes were flitting about the walls as if he thought he could vanish into them.

"I AM serious, Anders."

"You must be insane. Do you even know what you're asking of me?"

Alistair took a breath and held it, closing his eyes and seeing Elissa there. It gave him comfort; he needed that right now. He opened his eyes again and fixed them to those of the mage opposite him, but he didn't answer. Anders's frame hit the wall behind him and he stared back in silence for a few moments, his expression running the gamut of emotions from anger to hopelessness as he realised the King's expression was not changing. Then his shoulders sagged. He looked like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and it tore Alistair up inside to see it. The mage's voice was small when he spoke.

"You're actually asking me to…rejoin the circle?"

"I am."

"I won't. I can't." Anders's head was shaking as he spoke. He looked terrified. Any semblance of the cheery, bright companion that Elissa had talked of was lost to Alistair's eyes; hidden underneath this drained and frail exterior that stared back at him like a man already dead. Alistair forced down the guilt that threatened to rise in him and remembered Teagan's teachings. He was a King. He had to act in the best interests of the many, not the few.

Anders was speaking again; a low mutter as he looked around him. "I can't leave my patients. I can't abandon anyone else. I can't…"

"You said you'd give anything for change."

In a flash, the mage seemed to come to life. His body straightened. His head snapped up, his eyes fixing Alistair's own with a penetrating gaze as his voice rang out strong.

"For change, yes. I would DIE for change. But this, this is not change."

Alistair was taken aback at the shift in the man, but almost pleased to see just a spark of the character the other wardens had painted. He could work with this. The initial shock seemed to have passed, and Anders stood tall and proud, a man ready to fight. Alistair took a step forward and held his chin high.

Look like a King. Act like a King. Whatever else you feel.

"I am asking you to set an example. To rejoin a circle that we can shape into something better. You can change it from the inside. You can continue to treat your patients..."

Anders gave a humourless smile that was almost a snarl "Most of my patients wouldn't step a foot in the gallows. They wouldn't spit on its forecourt. And neither would I."

Alistair tempered his voice. It was firm, but steady. How long had he and Teagan talked over this strategy? How hard had it been even for Alistair to see the end goal? He couldn't expect an apostate like Anders to grasp the broader picture any faster than he had. He had to have patience with the man.

"It will be a different place. You and I will make it so. Meredith will be gone within the fortnight, you have my word on that. The wheels are set in motion and Knight Captain Cullen is briefed and prepared to take her place." The possibility of Meredith refusing the transfer, and what Zevran was waiting in the wings to do if she did, still made Alistair feel sick to his stomach, but the statement made Anders pause, his eyes widening.

"You're…you're planning to overthrow Meredith?" There was an element of awe in his voice, but then it was gone, as the mage shook his head again and bit down on his lip. "No. Cullen is just another chantry watchdog. The cycle goes on and nothing changes."

"Cullen is a benevolent man. Your clinic continues by his good graces. You think he doesn't know you're here?"

Cullen was more than benevolent. He was strong, quick-minded and, most importantly, he and Alistair had a shared history.

War is chess, Alistair. Know your pieces well, and use them.

Anders gripped his head in one hand as if he was literally trying to hold some important part of him in.

"Regardless of how good a man he is, the circle is still a prison. You're asking me to walk back into something I have campaigned against for years; to let down the people I have fought for and alongside; to let down mages everywhere who crave freedom…"

"How is it worse than this, Anders?" Alistair's voice raised in incredulity as he spread his arms and gestured to the clinic around them. "This place is as much a prison. Dark, dusty, ill-equipped. How is the circle worse than this?"

"Because I CHOSE this!" The shout echoed around the walls of the clinic and rooted Alistair to the spot. "It's mine. I built it. No one ordered me here, no one dragged me here. It is one of only three decisions in my life that I have made for myself." The amber eyes misted over as the apostate moved them around the room, and when they reached Alistair they almost pleaded with him. "Don't you understand that?"

Alistair clenched his fists and felt his heart race. Andraste, yes. Yes, he understood that. He, of all people understood that.

"Anders, this is war. I am working to save us all, and I won't let one hot-headed apostate ruin months of planning. If you cannot do what I ask, I have another mage who will."

"Who?"

"His name is Jowan." Know your pieces well.

Anders's eyes widened in recognition of the name. "Jowan the blood mage? From Ferelden? You would work with a blood mage?"

"I'd rather a loyal blood mage at my side than a traitorous apostate." The look of disgust on the mage's face gave Alistair the strength he needed to harden his voice and regain the stronger position. He stepped forward once more. "You will do this thing, Anders, or Jowan will take up his place in Kirkwall's circle… and you will come with me and return to the Wardens. And I don't know about the darkspawn, but Andraste protect you when Elissa, Oghren and the others see you walk alive and healthy through those doors."

For just a moment, Alistair saw an intense grief pass Anders's features at the mention of his former comrades. Whatever this broken man had become, he clearly valued the friendships he'd made. And here was Alistair asking him now to give up the new friendships he had formed here in Kirkwall. But damnit all, this was war…and no one had forced Anders to become a man on the run. He had placed himself here. He had turned his back on his comrades. Surely what Alistair offered now was better than a noose? Alistair stepped forward again, pushing his advantage, as the mage pressed his back against the stone wall.

"Don't push me. Please, don't push me."

"You asked for choices. This is yours: Help me change and stabilise the circle from the inside, or rejoin the wardens. The third option should be obvious."

Anders's eyes suddenly narrowed "Are you threatening me?"

Alistair roared, moving up to the apostate's smaller frame until they were close enough to feel each other's breath.

"I am the King of Ferelden and you are a traitor! I don't need to threaten you. I am commanding you. Now make your choice."

To Alistair's horror, the mage's face did not show anger or hatred; nothing he could fight against, instead it twisted into misery. Anders seemed to grasp desperately at words for a moment and then he crumpled; his robes pooling around him as he fell to the floor at the King's feet, his head in his hands. Alistair saw those feathered shoulders heave as Anders let out a soft wail of anguish.

Fists balled tight, Alistair looked blankly ahead of him at the wall and clenched his jaw hard. Mustering templar training of so long ago, he tried to close himself off from the grief he knew he'd caused, lest it pull him down with it. He had placed an impossible choice on the man, he knew. Anders was not Sebastian. All the Prince of Starkhaven had needed was a small nudge towards the direction that he clearly wanted, and that Alistair required. Asking Anders to give up his revolution was not the same as asking Sebastian to give up the chantry. This was about removing a person's moral choice and motivation. This was about ripping out someone's core. And yet, Alistair needed him. Ferelden and her allies needed Anders to save Kirkwall in a way that only he could. If Elissa had been right about the man, he would come through. He would understand, and he would join the circle as a hero and a beacon of change.

And Alistair had every faith that Elissa was right.

Reassured in his own mind, Alistair fell into an awkward crouch, armour allowing, and placed a tentative hand on the mage's shoulder. He felt Anders stiffen under his touch and then the blond head raised slowly. Alistair attempted a brief smile. He had always been complimented before on the soothing qualities of his smile; though this was perhaps its hardest test.

"I'm sorry. I know what it is to have your choices taken from you, believe me. Don't hate me for this. We need you."

Anders looked up at him with a weary expression, as if the emotional wave that had just swept over him had left him devoid of any energy. "The King apologising to a traitor? That's new." He rubbed his eyes and frowned "The circle. It doesn't work."

"We'll make it work. I'll remove Meredith. You'll run your clinic as a sanctioned practice. We'll show mages that the circle can be a safe haven and not a prison."

"Remove the chantry's hold from the circle."

The request was quiet, but it made Alistair's heart skip a beat. "I can't do that. I want mages to feel safe and not feared, but I can't ignore their potential danger either. The chantry is the balance. There needs to be a compromise."

Anders nodded gently to himself.

"Compromise."

As his limbs unfolded, Alistair got to his feet and offered an arm. Anders paused for a second and then took it. Alistair grimaced at how light the mage felt as he pulled the man to his feet. Seven years since he'd left the wardens. Seven years of fighting a system that Alistair was asking him to return to. His body had paid the price it seemed.

Once Anders was standing, Alistair spoke again. "Listen. I know you'll need time. I don't intend to drag you kicking and screaming to the circle. I'm meeting Hawke in a short while, but…" he looked at his feet "I'd rather he didn't know that I'd spoken with you before I have a chance to speak with him. I–I know what he is to you."

"Do you" It was spoken as a statement more than a question, and Anders grimaced.

"When…if…you choose to help me, it must be seen as your own decision, or it will be meaningless."

Anders gazed blankly ahead of him, but Alistair knew that beneath that exterior his mind must be reeling. He sensed that this conversation was over. There was simply nothing more to say. He had played his hand and made his offer. Now, he had to wait for Anders to digest the news and understand that what was being proposed was the fastest, safest way of uniting Kirkwall; at least long enough for her to be of any use as an ally in the coming war. Cullen and Anders would stabilise Kirkwall, and Sebastian Vael would unite Starkhaven under his banner. All were powerful pieces on any King's board.

Act like a King. Think like a King. Whatever else you feel.

"I'll leave you for now. Perhaps I'll see you with Hawke?"

"Perhaps you will." Anders offered a slight, lopsided smile, but his eyes remained dark. Alistair reached the doorway before he turned and added,

"Seems weird to say now, but I'm glad to have finally met you. Elissa was very fond of you, I know."

"Not as fond as she is of you." Anders smiled sadly. "She doesn't know, does she? That I'm alive, I mean."

Alistair shook his head and replied honestly "No, she doesn't."

Anders nodded. "Good. I'd rather she remembered me as a hero."

Alistair gave a last look around the clinic and spoke softly "From where I'm standing, you're still a hero. She'd be proud of this."

He left the mage to his troubled thoughts, stopping outside of darktown to close his eyes and breathe the air. If Anders had been a simple fugitive on the run, a man with no ties or connections, this would have been so much easier. But he was a man filled with passion for his cause, loved by many and in love to boot. Still, despite everything, the mage had been a grey warden once. He had fought alongside Elissa and the others and, even after his desertion, had worked tirelessly towards a better world. He would understand.

Alistair shook himself and stood up straight. His next task was to meet the fabled Champion of Kirkwall.

--

In his clinic, Anders dry heaved onto the floor, his breathing coming in short, sharp bursts. It was all he'd been able to do to contain Justice during the King's visit. The spirit's reaction to Alistair's proposal had been violent. So much so that Anders wondered at times that Alistair couldn't see that he was talking to two people and not just one. Justice could not see shades of grey. Everything in his world was black or it was white. Compromise, redemption…these were words Justice could not fathom. Now that Alistair was gone, Justice could speak freely, and his voice rang clear in Anders's head.

We need to talk

"Yes, old friend. Yes, we do."

Where was Sebastian's Maker now?