Chapter Text
It was the unfortunate truth that this was not the first time Anders woke up in shackles with soldiers pointing swords at him from all sides. Granted, It hadn't happened in a few years, or he didn't think he would still be alive, not after Kirkwall.
All things considered, it was bound to happen one day, someone would eventually recognize him, the man who killed hundreds of innocents when he destroyed the Kirkwall Chantry, the man who inspired the mages to rebel and start the war against their templar captors. He had been lucky enough when Hawke choose to spare him, he had been living on borrowed time.
His luck had run out.
Would he even have a trial? Or would they just run him through with a sword and be done with it?
There was also this strange glow on his hand, a sickly green light that could only be magic. He didn't know where it came from or what it did, but it pulsed at random, sending waves of pain up his arm every so often. Had they done something to him while he was unconscious? Some kind of new torture method?
How did he get here anyway? Anders tried to think. The last thing he remembered was that he had been at the Conclave. There had been hope, there could be peace, the Divine was willing to lead negotiations. The best chance so far for the mages to earn the freedom they deserved.
He remembered arriving there, remembered how Justice was positively beaming in his mind, remembered the palpable tension as both templars and mages arrived from all over Thedas. But then… there was nothing. A blank where his memories should be. This could only mean Justice had taken over at some point and Anders had failed to hold him back. Why though? He had no idea, but it did not sit well with him.
What had they done?
The spirit was strangely quiet too. He was still there, a steady presence in the back of his mind, but there was no voice, no demands of action, just an eerie sort of silence.
The door opened in front of him, washing the room in warm light as two sets of footsteps descended towards Anders. The sound of metal shifting told him one of them was well armored. He did not look up, his untied hair fell over his face while his eyes stayed glued on the shackles digging into his wrists. His breathing was even and his heartbeat steady even as the two newcomers stalked around him like lionesses surveying their prey.
"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." The armored woman said, her heavily accented voice dripping with barely contained rage. Anders had no answer, she continued. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you."
That got Anders to look at her, eyes wide in shock. "No." They hadn't… Justice hadn't… Had he?
The spirit was still quiet and Anders did not remember.
It made no sense though, why would Justice destroy the Conclave? He had been hopeful for the meeting as much as Anders. Both of them had agreed for once that this was a chance to right the wrongs against the mages. They had planned and speculated how the talks would go, expected push back and heated debates, but not this. Never this.
"Explain this." The woman yanked his shackled hands, the chains rattled and the green glow on his hand sparkled. He gasped as a piercing jolt ran from the mark and up his arm.
"You did this!" He said through gritted teeth. "I don't know what this is."
"Lies!" She shouted, and Anders flinched and lowered his head, expecting a blow, but it never came. The other woman held her back, not because she felt sorry, of course.
They needed him, she explained.
And it was the only reason he was still alive, they did not know how he had survived, but they needed him. The reason was just outside the dungeon, Anders was dragged up the stairs by Cassandra so he could see the giant tear in the sky that lead into the fade. So massive it could probably be seen from kilometers away. It pulsed every so often, expanding, and Anders felt pain akin to his hand being sliced open each time it did.
Seeker Cassandra explained the breach to the best of her understanding, how it appeared when the Conclave blew up, how it threatened to consume first Haven, and then who knew what else, how they thought it was related to the glow in his hand.
Anders realized two things about his situation: First that despite her gruff exterior, Cassandra somehow believed Anders when he said he hadn't destroyed the Conclave, not on purpose at least, but she had no other suspects, and mostly she wanted his help closing the hole in the sky.
Second that she had no idea who Anders actually was.
He couldn't stop himself from laughing. It sounded hysterical to his own ears.
"There is nothing funny about this." Cassandra snapped.
"No." He was still smiling, the kind of smile that was only surface deep and didn't reach his eyes. "No there isn't. Take me to the breach. I'll see what I can do."
It wasn't as simple as walking there. The way to the breach was infested with demons every step of the way, with smaller fade tears letting more out at every moment. It was dangerous enough that Anders had convinced Cassandra she could trust him with a staff to defend himself.
If only she knew…
But demons were not the only thing they found on their path. There were people as well, first an apostate elf who showed Anders how to use the mark to close the rifts spilling demons.
And also…
"Glad to see there is a solution and we won't be having demons in our asses forever." A painfully familiar voice said behind Anders with a tone of levity. A levity he had heard before, even in the most dire of situations. It once had been comforting, but now it made Anders' blood turn into ice in his veins.
He didn't turn around, he had half a mind to run away and hide, but even he knew that would lead nowhere, Cassandra would hunt him down, if the demons didn't find him first.
"Varric?" Cassandra said, either a greeting or a question, confirming what Anders already knew. "I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine but clearly that is not needed anymore. You could have left."
"And here I thought I was your favorite prisoner. But I see I have been replaced." There was clear curiosity in his voice.
Cassandra made a disgusted noise "Varric this is…" And then she realized she didn't know Anders' name. She was looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer. Anders would have to say something and either hope Varric would pretend to not know him or hope the mark on his hand made him too important to kill immediately.
Or maybe he could try his luck with the demons and run.
With his best smile, Anders turned around "Trevelyan" It was the first name that came to mind. He had met a Trevelyan mage a few months before, briefly, just once, with a delegation from the Ostwick Circle. "From Ostwick."
He saw the moment Varric recognized him. How his hand jerked to grab Bianca but froze before doing it. The way his face went through shock, anger, confusion and then he visibly collected himself with a carefully blank expression and Anders marveled over the fact he had left the storyteller speechless.
"Trevelyan from Ostwick." Varric said flatly, he offered a genial smile so fake it was uncanny and his hand to shake. "Varric Tethras. Have we met?"
Anders could have fainted from relief as he grasped the Varric's hand. "We might have. Once or twice." There were a thousand unsaid things between them, but a sudden lump in his throat left him unable to say much else.
What was going through Varric's mind? Did he hate Anders? Did he want him dead? He was sure an interrogation would be happening at the first opportunity, but for now Varric was willing to play along.
Protecting Anders, keeping his secrets, just like he used to.
The breach pulsed once more, Anders jerked his hand away as he doubled over in pain.
"Enough chatting." Cassandra knelt beside him to help Anders back on his feet. Her hands were steady and surprisingly gentle despite her harsh tone "You can catch up later, we have to keep moving."
The horde of demons the group faced on the way did not prepare them for the massive pride demon that crawled through the breach as soon as they arrived. Anders had already been feeling the strain on his mana between the fireballs he used against the demons and the healing magic he used to keep his companions standing.
Pride attacked with no hesitation, sweeping lightning like a whip. Cassandra stood strong in front of it, bracing her shield to take on the full brunt of the attack before slashing at the demon's feet with her sword.
Anders drew fire at the tip of his staff before releasing a fireball at the demon, the flames set its carapace alight. But being on fire didn't seem to bother Pride as much as it should, all it did was make it turn its attention to him. It dove past Cassandra to stomp where Anders stood and he dived out of the way just a moment before its foot came down. The stone under him shook, dirt and gravel dug into his palms where it scrapped the ground. He gritted his teeth, standing up again.
Pride quickly changed its attention again, going now after Varric who had been relentlessly shooting bolts at its back. He jumped backwards, firing a rain of bolts at Pride's feet in an attempt to pint it down. Pride roared as it struck its lightning whip at Varric.
Anders moved to help him, but someone tugged his hand, pulling him back.
"You need to seal the breach." Solas said urgently. He had a nasty cut on his brow that was bleeding heavily. "We can hold the spirit back."
He turned his attention to the massive hole, Justice within him stirred in his mind with one single word.
'Home'
"I have to close it." He said mournfully. He wanted more than anything to send the spirit through, but that would likely require Anders to go with him.
'Our duty here is not done.' Justice said solemnly 'Finish this.'
Anders thrust his hand towards the sky, the pain erupting from the mark felt like it was splitting his arm in half but he braced himself and endured as he tried to force the breach close.
Like trying to close a wound while drained of mana, the hole fought to stay open. Progress was too slow, his energy quickly fading, and the pain so intense he wondered if he was about to lose his arm. Anders screamed, holding the arm with the mark up with his other hand. Justice's presence grew stronger in the front of his mind, not taking over, but helping Anders push through the pain and exhaustion and keep going.
Blue light cracked on Anders' skin, mixing with the fade green from the mark and the breach. Together Anders and Justice pulled at the seams of the fade, one last tug until the breach collapsed into itself. The tidal wave of magic pushed him back, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head where he hit the hard stone floor.
Vision blurry, head spinning, ears ringing. He saw Pride being sucked into the breach as it diminished. He reached for it with the mark, but his eyes were too heavy to keep open.