So I've been insanely busy but finally managed to do a prompt response.
Anders might have had no idea where he was but as he was reasonably sure that the templars didn’t either, he was perfectly fine with that. It was just that he was in a distinctly wild-looking area and who knew what he’d find out there? He may have had more experience with the outside world do to his years of hiding his magic but he had never really spent much time in the wilderness. Maybe he’d meet a Dalish clan who would shun him – or worse – for ‘choosing’ to imprisoned in a tower by the Chantry. He’d seen a Dalish girl once, her face was covered with tattoos and she hadn’t seemed to know where she was either. Given that he was lost as well and didn’t appreciate it, he rather hoped that she had made it out okay.
“What have we here?” a drawling voice called out from behind him. “An intruder? Mother would know just what to do with you…”
Anders started and spun around to face the woman the voice belonged to. She was…
damn, she was the best-looking girl he’d seen in quite some time and her shirt – if it could be called that – left little to the imagination. Her long dark hair was tied up in a bun and her milky skin was unmarred. “An intruder, fair lady? I didn’t mean to be one, if I have wandered somewhere I shouldn’t be.”
“A likely story,” the woman said skeptically. There was this feeling that he was getting from her…was she a mage as well? She wasn’t carrying a staff or dressed in robes but then, neither was he. It would make him far too obvious of a target for even the most idiotic of templars or other Chantry zealots.
“No, it’s true,” Anders insisted. “I’m afraid I’m terribly lost. Perhaps you could help me…I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“That would be because my name wasn’t thrown,” the woman retorted sharply but she looked a little amused. “’Tis no great importance what my name is and why should I tell you mine if you haven’t even told me yours?”
“Right, my name is Maric,” Anders introduced. It was never smart to give out his real name while escaping or using the same alias too often.
The woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Maric?”
Anders shrugged. “It’s a surprisingly common name. My mother, like most Fereldens, was very grateful to King Maric for having delivered us from the Orlesian occupation and so it was either that or Loghain. She felt that I looked more like the king’s portrait than the Teyrn’s so there you have it.”
“How very unoriginal,” the woman remarked dryly. “Then again, I have reason to believe that if my mother had any daughters before me than they were all named ‘Morrigan’ as well so perhaps ’tis not as unbelievable as I thought.”
Something told Anders that being compared to Morrigan’s mother wasn’t a good thing. He coughed. “I see. Well I, for one, feel that Morrigan is a beautiful name and a fitting one.”
A smirk flitted across Morrigan’s face. “Such a charmer! Oh, I just know that I could have fun with you.”
Anders definitely liked the sound of that. “I like fun.”
The smirk widened. “I’m sure you do. Of course, my mother would probably be able to have even more fun than I would…”
Anders definitely didn’t like the sound of that. And anyway, threesomes were only interesting if
both parties were in some way appealing. Morrigan’s mother had to be at
least fifty and, to Rylock’s eternal frustration, even he had standards. “As intriguing as that sounds, Morrigan, I really should be going. I don’t even know where I am, you see, or how to get out of here and I’d rather not have to try to spend the night in a strange wilderness.”
“You are in the Korcari Wilds,” Morrigan informed him. Impulsively, she added, “And I will lead you out.”
Anders nodded his gratitude and began to follow her, hoping that she was really leading him back to civilization and not to her apparently horny mother. He was definitely appreciating the view as she led him to wherever, though.
“You are a mage?” Morrigan asked suddenly.
“I’m about as much of a mage as you are,” Anders said simply.
Morrigan nodded, accepting that. “I suppose you live in that ‘Circle Tower’ then?”
Anders twitched. “Not voluntarily.”
“Perhaps you could try to clear something up for me,” Morrigan said slowly. “ ’Tis something that I’ve been wondering about for quite awhile and something on which my mother has proven most unhelpful.”
“I’d be happy to help if I can,” Anders offered.
“I know that the Chantry takes all the mages that they can find and they lock them up in the tower. Tell me this, Maric: Why do the mages consent to live that way? Are they really so weak and stupid?” Morrigan demanded.
Anders shrugged. “I myself was only brought to the Circle a few years back and since my Harrowing-” he stopped at the confused look on her face. “Since I became a full mage and can no longer be executed or have my connection to the Fade and consequentially all of my emotions stripped from me, I’ve spent more time outside of the tower than inside. The templars try to track you down, of course, and have a vial of your blood with which to do it. Once they catch you, they drag you back and punish you for your escape.”
“So many mages try to escape then?” Morrigan inquired.
Anders frowned. “Not many, no. I don’t even think most of them
think about escaping. They’ve just been there for so long that they really don’t know any better. They don’t understand what a dreadful fate being a non-apostate mage in Ferelden is and some of them don’t even like to be outside.”
“Weak sheep,” Morrigan spat. She gestured in front of her. “Keep going for maybe five minutes and you’ll find your way out. I’m glad to know that at least some mages aren’t as pathetic as I had believed.” With that, she turned into a bird and flew away.
Huh, he’d never seen that before. Too bad he hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep with her. On the other hand, he hadn’t been called upon to sleep with her mother, either, so perhaps he should just consider himself fortunate and move on.
They are great! <3
And I love that you've started to draw again, it looks good!
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