VA: Healing Troubles

The world was covered in a thick blanket of fog, the sun just beginning to rise as the group of four traveled across the dew soaked hills surrounding Vigil's Keep.

   Anders yawned;it was far too early for a patrol like this in his opinion. He'd been having the most delicious dream of smooth skin, full lips, his fingers tracing where feminine curves meshed perfectly into the hard muscle of a warrior…Okay stop,you need to focus!

Said owner of muscled curves was right in front of him, seemingly oblivious to how her armor framed her figure or how her sleep tousled hair gave her an irresistible, wild look. She'd carelessly thrown it into a loose knot at thebase of her neck in their haste to get out. It was drawing attention to her long, gorgeous neck that was just begging to be bitten…

Damn it, now is not the time!

"So, will someone please try again to help me understand what in the name of Andraste we're doing out here so early?" He knew he was whining and he didn't care.

"I had a darkspawn nightmare." His Commander responded, all business as she eyed the tree line. The woman was acting as if she expected the Archdemon to jump out at them in the next instant.

"So, we're out here in the cold, when we could be warm and safe in our beds, because you had a bad dream?" Nathaniel grumbled from the back of the group.

Aowyn Cousland turned on her heel, silver green eyes intense as she got right in Nathaniel's face, "The last time I had a dream like that the camp I was in got swarmed by Shrieks seconds after I woke up. I don't know about you, but I'd rather spend the morning walking around the Keep for no reason than getting my throat cut in my sleep." The warrior woman continued on, not bothering to look back and make sure her companions followed.

Maybe it was petty, definitely childish, but Anders couldn't resist giving the rogue a shit eating grin as he passed. Nathaniel simply scowled back.

They moved closer to the tree line, Anders feeling fatigue claw at his limbs.

"So how long shall we walk in circles until I can get back to my soft, warm bed?"

He heard Aowyn groan, "Alright boys, better hurry this along so the delicate mage flower can get his beauty sleep."

This time it was Nathaniel's turn to smirk, though his expression soon soured as Aowyn lifted her hand.

"That's Cousland: 2, Minions: 0."

Anders sighed, "You're keeping score?" He whined.

"Damn right I am."

He was finding it hard to care in the face of her smile.

The fourth member of the party stumbled, shoving him forward as Oghren burped and laughed, "Heh, she sure showed you! heheheh!"

"Maker you smell dwarf," He responded, "It's like we have a brewery following us!"

"Shut your...talking...hole...thingy..."

Anders watched him closely, the dwarf seeming to struggle with the immense warhammer strapped across his back. Oghren could barely walk in a straight line let alone wield such a weapon and the mage couldn't deny the bad feeling slowly settling in his gut.

"No offense my heavily innebriated companion, but are you sure you're up for this?"

The red haired dwarf glared at him, "You got something to say pretty boy?"

His bad feeling increased as his good humor drained, "It's just...you can't even walk in a straight line, how are you going to fight if we do come into contact with anything?"

"Save it for the Divine you man, skirt wearing freak!"

"Both of you shut it!" Aowyn snapped. This was exactly why she had been leaving the dwarf behind when they went out. Oghren was losing control of his cups and while he had normally fought under the influence of alcohol during the Blight, he was a loose canon on the battlefield in this condition.

She turned back towards the direction of the Keep, expression exasperated. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked exhausted. The mage felt a bit guilty for complaining so much this morning, clearly Aowyn was working harder than anyone and hadn't said a word about it.

"I guess we came out here for nothing," Nathaniel began, starting to walk away.

"Wait..." Aowyn murmured, looking down at her boots. Anders watched as she stiffened and before he could blink she spun, fist slamming into an oncoming bandit's face.

"Now that is just creepy..." He teased as the enemies emerged from the forest. Aowyn laughed as she unsheathed her sword, leaping into the fray while Anders backed off.

There was a large number of bandits, but with Nathaniel's cover fire and Anders's enhancing spells the wardens were handling it.

Aowyn charged and ducked, hacked and slashed with the ease of someone who'd held a sword from birth. It was hard not to get distracted, and several times Anders came too close to an enemy's blade.

Silver green eyes examined the battlefield, the commander spying Oghren getting overwhelmed.

She lunged at the bandit coming up behind the dwarf, sword raised...

"Oghren, look out!"

Time slowed as the dwarf turned, hammer raised to strike a killing blow, his mind still lost in a drunken haze he didn't register the figure behind him and instead of striking the bandit in the face, the hammer slammed into Aowyn's chest.

Anders froze, the world coming to a screeching halt as he heard bones snap and lungs collapse. He felt his own chest erupt in pain as he turned, watching Aowyn fall.

"NO!!" He roared, across the field in an instant.

Millions of thoughts flashed through his mind. Thoughts of horror, pain, fear...most of all regret. Regret that he hadn't paralyzed the dwarf the second Oghren insisted on going with them.

She flew through the air like a child's rag doll, her armored body lying sprawled at Oghren's feet. The dwarf stared unseeing, his weapon limp at his side while he wobbled on his feet.

Anders shoved him to the side, cradling her face in his hands, "Aowyn? Aowyn! Commander, can you hear me?"

Blood trickled from her mouth, causing his fear to soar to new heights as he ripped the chest piece of her armor off. His hands flashed with healing magic as he ran them over her torso...sensing all her ribs were crushed, internal bleeding, the works. He quickly cast enough magic to hold her together for transport. Anything more required his supplies at the Keep.

Forgetting about Oghren he shouted for Nathaniel, the rogue helping him lift her up.

They ran to the Vigil, never stopping, and for the first time in a long while Anders began praying.

. . .

It had been two days, two incredibly long days. The hours passed at a snail's pace and Anders could feel himself going slightly mad.

Her wounds were healed...as far as he knew. He was good at healing, but he had spent the majority of his time escaping the Circle, not going to class, and he cursed himself for that.

She slept, her peaceful slumber occasionally marred with harsh, wheezing gasps for air that had him panicking as he poured more magic into her system.

He was seated against the far wall, bloodshot eyes watching her as she rested. He was surrounded by empty lyrium vials and health potions.

He'd tried everything and nothing worked, well, there was one thing he hadn't tried...

He stood, moving to kneel beside her side of the bed. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers.

Nothing happened, and he pulled away with a harsh sigh.

"I'm an idiot." He groaned, slumping to the floor.

. . .

Nathaniel paced, arms crossed and head bowed as he waited outside Aowyn's room. He couldn't believe the nerve of that dwarf, wanting to both wring Oghren's neck and slam him into the wall.

The door opened, Anders's gaunt face appearing. He looked awful, pale and sickly. His hair was falling out of it's tie, greasy and tangled since he never left her side. His robes were wrinkled and clearly in need of washing but again he refused to leave her save for when he absolutely had to.

"Any change?" Nathaniel asked, desperation tinging his voice.

"No..." Anders looked like sorrow personified.

"Fuck."

"I need more lyrium..."

The rogue halted, "Anders, you've had enough...that stuff is poison even for mages."

"If I don't get more she'll die!" The blonde man snarled.

Nathaniel threw up his hands in surrender, "Alright...I'll get you some more."

Anders slammed the door as Nathaniel went downstairs to find Varel.

He stilled at what he found, rage boiling in his blood and all he saw was red.

His arm whipped out, slapping the mug of ale from Oghren's hands, "You're drinking more?!!" He shouted.

"Eh, what's it to you?!" Oghren roared falling to the floor as Nathaniel punched him.

"Do you even know what you've done?! The commander's dying!!" He hissed, standing over the dwarf, blood trickling from Oghren's nose.

"W-what?" He sputtered, eyes going wide as he looked up at his fellow warden.

"You heard me," Nathaniel growled, "Took a crushing blow from your hammer cause you can't hold your liquor!!!"

Oghren stared up at him, a look of horror spreading across his face. Nathaniel moved to say more but the front doors opened wide, startling him.

A white haired woman entered, clad in Circle robes with an aura of calm surrounding her.

"Oh dear, it appears I've arrived at a bad time." She murmured.

"Who are you?" Nathaniel asked, on edge.

"Peace," The woman held up her hand, "My name is Wynne, I'm an old friend of your Warden Commander Aowyn." She smiled warmly, "I heard she was here and wanted to say hello, we didn't get much of a chance to talk after she slayed the Archdemon." Her gaze lowered to Oghren, the dwarf paralyzed where he lay, "What mess have you gotten yourself into this time Oghren?"

"Wynne!!"

All turned in the direction of the voice, Anders running towards Wynne and all but tackling her.

The old woman let out a yelp before laughing as she patted the warden mage's back, "Ah, I had wondered where you'd run off to...it's good to see you alive and well Anders."

"Wynne...we need your help, Aowyn..." The man looked panicked.

"What is going on dear boy?"

"Just come with me, I'm not...I'm not skilled enough..." His voice turned bitter towards the end.

Wynne adjusted her pack before rushing after Anders, leaving Nathaniel and Oghren to sort out their disagreement on their own.

. . .

Her eyes took in the room, the hero of Ferelden lying bruised and sweating with fever in the center of the bed. Wynne stilled when she say the pile of lyrium bottles...

"Anders, how much lyrium have you taken?"

"I don't know...I haven't been keeping track."

Wynne yanked him before her, hands cradling his face as they glowed with healing magic.

"Don't heal me, heal her!" He cried, sounding frantic.

"Aowyn isn't going to die within the hour child." Wynne said, voice eerily calm, "You are on the verge of overdose, one more sip would kill you."

Anders's eyes widened as he felt overwhelming dizziness and nausea...the sickness seeming to poor out of his very skin as Wynne healed him. He was an idiot, a total imbecile...

"What in Andraste's name were you thinking?!" Wynne cried, releasing him, "Lyrium control is taught from day one...any mage knows to watch how much they ingest."

"I just...I've healed all the injuries I could find but..." His eyes turn to Aowyn, tortured and filled with pain and frustration, "I'm missing something...she doesn't stir save for every hour when her lungs fail her. I've had to keep taking Lyrium to keep her breathing."

Wynne stared in shock as he moved to the warrior's side, brushing her hair back from her face. Clearly there was more between them than simple friendship.

"I failed her Wynne...I wasn't paying attention, if I'd been watcing her as I should, if I'd stopped Oghren...If I'd-"

"You can play the what if game for as long as you want child, but all you will accomplish is hurting yourself." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Why don't you go down to the kitchens and get some tea, I'll see what I can do here but you need to rest."

"I don't want to leave her..." Anders murmured, panic flashing in his eyes.

"Anders you are weak, your magic is completely drained and you need to replenish it. Go drink some tea, I give you my word she will be safe in my care."

He nodded, standing and leaving the more experienced healer to her work.

He slumped against the door when it closed, sliding to the floor.

He failed her...

He was going to lose her...

He loved-

"Oh no..." He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Oh Maker no..."

Love was wrong. It was weakness, it was dangerous...mages weren't supposed to love. Even outside the tower that was an off limits thing. It gave the templars something to hurt you with. It was wrong, so very wrong!

He lifted his head, eyes widening as he stared at the wall across from him.

He wasn't a regular mage anymore...he was a grey warden...the Chantry couldn't touch him.

He could love her...

He did love her...

"Maker, I know I only acknowledge you when I'm swearing or when the templars are about to catch me...but please, don't take this from me," His voice shook as his eyes filled, "don't take her from me."

. . .

She woke slowly, noticing how warm the room was.

"What the.." Her voice was unbelievably hoarse, her throat burning with each intake of breath. She felt as if she'd run headlong into an oncoming High Dragon.

Glancing towards her feet she smiled weakly. Anders was slumped against the foot of the bed, the man looked exhausted.

Memory returning she glared at the ceiling, wondering what the best way to handle Oghren would be. Getting rid of all the ale in the Keep was a good start...

Other memories flooded her mind, dim ones...hazy ones.

Of warm hands caressing her face, arms cradling her, a soothing voice murmuring in her ear while she slept.

Anders...

His head jerked up, the man instantly awake. Did I say his name out loud? Oops...

"Aowyn?" He whispered.

She smiled, moving to respond but Anders all but tackled her in the next instant. The kiss was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

His hands snaked into her hair as he moaned against her lips, Aowyn responding in kind as she tried to pull him closer.

He froze, Aowyn almost whimpering as he pulled away.

"Aowyn, your ribs..."

Now that he mentioned it, they did ache...

"Oh no..." She groaned, "I'm not stuck in bed forever am I?" She was going to go insane...

He chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "No...they're healed, but tender. Be careful."

"Thank the Maker..." She sighed, "How long have I been out?"

"Four days."

"FOUR DAYS?!!" She cried in dismay.

"It's okay, we handled things! Nathaniel got carried away by the villagers, Oghren's off with the darkspawn and Varel's keeping watch for the High Dragon that's been setting fire to the Keep."

Aowyn raised one perfect eyebrow, "Is that all?"

"Pretty much."

She laughed, clutching her ribs and groaning in the next instant, "Ah shit...that hurt..." She straightened, "So everything's okay?"

"Yes," Anders groaned, rolling his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed, "Believe it or not, you being absent for four days has had absolutely no affect on the world."

"Damn, and here I was thinking I'm so important."

"The truth hurts doesn't it?"

She laughed again, grimacing as she turned onto her side.

Anders was acting strangely, almost bouncing as he sat beside her. She had no idea why he was so excited, but he reminded her of an eager puppy.

"What is it?" She asked, smiling softly.

He looked like he wanted to say something, like the words were on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"What?" She asked again, lifting her hand to caress his cheek. He grabbed it, leaning into her touch as he smiled.

"Nothing," He said, kissing her palm, "I'm just glad you're okay."

That wasn't it, but she wasn't going to push it, he'd tell her when he was ready.

They stayed like that for a moment longer before Anders stood, "I'll be right back, I need to go get Wynne and let her know you're alright."

"Wynne's here?" Aowyn asked, surprised.

"Yes, she's down the hall. I'll be right back." He kissed her forehead before slipping out of the room.

Not yet, I'll tell her later...