lost & found

Lana had become terrifyingly good at hiding her worry for her family. But the increasing delays in hearing any sort of word from Anders was beginning to crack the facade. While she trusted him to be able to go off and do what he needed to do, who he was presented some issues with that. And no contact for this long? It weighed on her mind more than even Ragnar's absence had. At least she'd known where he'd found himself stuck for the duration. But this was worse. She didn't know where her brother was and it had been longer than Ragnar's absence. And entirely too many people wished him dead.

While at first she couldn't justify leaving Ferelden, she had taken Garuda out more to see if he might just maybe turn up locally. Unfortunately, she would not be so lucky. At least not until the letter arrived from a strange raven.

Words barely processed and Lana was out of the rookery and to the aerie of the griffons. Garuda, Fred. Their names called in swift succession, followed by a sharp whistle. Despite who'd bonded with any one griffon as a rider, Lana still held sway over all. Viewed by the beasts as a mother figure, they'd likely follow her unto the ends of the world had she called for it.

In this case, it was merely to the Free Marches. Despite knowing the availability of the Eluvian network, Lana still did not wholly trust it. Without knowing who or what controlled the other mirrors, she refused to trust where she would end up. No, she rather preferred her own wings or that of the griffons to carry her.

Once in the Marches, she'd allow Fred to take the lead. Knowing full well the griffon would more easily find her rider than Lana ever could.

Once it seemed like the wounds on his arms weren’t going to heal quickly, he knew he needed to find a way back to Ferelden. Merrill had been kind enough to welcome him back to the city but he wasn’t alright. He had to get word back home. At first she wanted to send Gefen a letter but the thought of Gefen returning to Kirkwall for even a moment. So he wrote to Lana instead, finding a raven and sending it back to Soldier’s Peak.

When Merrill had found him he resisted joining her for a meal. He hadn’t wanted to go to Hightown. He hadn’t wanted to be anywhere close to where the Chantry had once stood but once he’d made the trek up to the higher elevation, once he was up there he’d determined he had to face it. So, in the dead of night he pulled his cloak and hood back over his shoulders, making sure he was as unrecognizable as possible and slipped into the streets. His entire body trembled as he stepped into the square, his body almost seizing up entirely when he saw the memorial.

Maker, there were so many names.

He stepped forward, drawn to it, his hand outstretched. Grand Cleric Elthina was at the very top of the middle slab of stone in lettering a bit larger than the other names. It angered him that she was in such a place of prominence but he didn’t have it in him to feel that rage fully. Right now all that rushed through him, laced with the ever present hunger that now gnawed at his soul, was guilt and regret and grief. Looking the spirit in the face who was partially to blame for this, meeting him in his arrogance and cruelty all at once. Knowing he’d been used in a way that had caused harm to so many.

He heard the heavy beat of large wings as they landed behind him and felt a brief moment of relief. He knew it was Fred behind him before her large head pressed up against his cheek, nuzzling him, ”Hey Girl, I missed you too.”

He stood there for a moment longer and turned back to look at Lana, the weight of his own sins weighing his shoulders down.

Lana had never been to Kirkwall before. She knew about most everything that had transpired, but actually visiting? It had never been something to come up. While a few of her wardens had been sent to and from the Marches - especially Nathaniel - she'd never personally been to the infamous city-state. So now, seeing Fred all but dive for the City of Chains left a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Of all the places Anders could have ended up this... this was possibly the worst. Blessedly, though, he was alive. And for a moment, Lana wasn't certain if she or Fred were happier to see him.

Fear of the worst had brought a well of tears to her eyes as she'd landed her own griffon a bit behind Fred. And despite the joy of seeing her brother alive, the tears fell regardless.

Sliding off her griffon, she ran over to Anders and practically launched herself at his arms. Thank the Maker you're safe, I've been so worried. Her hands held a slight tremble as she pulled away enough to look him over. You look like shit, what happened?

He pushed through the pain to reach up and scratch Fred behind her ears with his gauze wrapped arms. As the pain of the burns pushed through his body from how he’d fought and gripped so hard to keep that shred of this elven god within him he saw flashes of the man’s face as he was made fully corporeal. His stomach churned again with bile and he couldn’t help but glance up at the slab of stone behind him, wondering just what he’d released.

He didn’t have too much time to think about it, because soon he had familiar arms wrapped around him. Anders inhaled the smell of Lana’s soap, aware he probably still smelled like burnt flesh. He hid a wince of pain as he brought his arms up to wrap them around her.

It… is a long story. Let’s get out of the city and I’ll explain. I don’t want to be… I might not get arrested but I can’t fight if the wrong person finds me here.

He pulled away from her again and glanced back at the memorial. Thousands, tens of thousands of names, all blood on his hands. All because of him. He wondered if they included the mages that died when Meredith called wrath upon them for his actions. He could get closer. He could look. But he was rooted to the spot, almost as if he didn’t want to know the answer.

So, with a grit of his teeth in pain he reached for Fred and hooked his foot behind her wing, swinging himself up onto her back with difficulty, The coast is close and should be pretty quiet at this time of night. Not that we can’t take care of ourselves, huh? he tried to crack a smile but it didn’t even reach his face, looking more like a grimace.

Lana couldn't help but curse herself inwardly at not bringing medical supplies. She'd never been much minded in that direction and, well, it showed. Almost constantly. As terrible as he looked, she regretted not having paid more attention to healing magic when they were learning all those many long years ago.

Detangling herself from him, she stepped back. Her smile fell into a frown at his words. He was not wrong. Even if you can't, I can. An observation. A promise. Sparks glittered and danced over her fingertips as she held a hand up. She offered him a playful smile, if only a wistful and short-lived one. He didn't need reminding she'd tear the world down for him.

Watching him getting himself up was painful for her - she couldn't imagine what it was like for him. Anders... can you ride solo? Concern danced through her features as she studied him, his posture, his positioning. Lana did not doubt Fred would be gentle and careful, but riding a griffon was still no easy task.

She'd await his answer before taking a move one way or the other to go to the coast at his behest. Whether it was to guide her own griffon, or to call her to follow with a whistle as she rode alongside Anders.

Fred’s a good girl, she won’t let me fall, he said, smiling softly as he wrapped his thighs tighter around the griffon, leaning a bit more forward than usual to rest his weight on her strong torso. He smoothed a hand along his feathers, At least to the coast… might… might need to double up to get home… He hated this. Hated feeling this weak and hated feeling this helpless. He hated being a burden and he felt like one as they flew to the coast. He landed in a spot that was familiar, but not somewhere he considered unsafe or where he would be looked for. He stood, listening to the water crash against the beach.

Justice… he croaked. It wasn’t Justice was it? It was someone else. Those dark onyx eyes… the burning searing pain as he was burned from the inside out. Not many men towered over him but this man— this self named God— had and when Anders didn’t bend to his will immediately… he looked down at his arms, I don’t know exactly when Justice stopped being just Justice and became Elgar’nan… or part of him… but it was from when I was here the first time. He is twisted and he… he’s whole again. A man found me and pulled the sliver of him I held out and now… Lana, this is not good. This… people are going to die. Again. Because I wasn’t strong enough.