Pride and Spirit (Dragon Age: Origins) *Complete*

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I love this sm!!

[Wig_Powder]

@rockbell I'm so glad you're enjoying it!

Chapter 16

Amell and the survivors of the Keep spent the next year rebuilding both the Keep and Amaranthine. While there was naturally a lot of work to be done, things went much smoother than Amell would have thought. Not only were there quite a lot of donations sent in to aid their efforts, but spending hours either doing manual labor or providing relief to Amaranthine’s citizens cut down significantly on the bickering between her comrades. There was still some, of course, but Amell was inclined to call it affectionate, a way to bond or release some frustration while working, so she responded to it with a shake of the head rather than an exasperated sigh.

Over time, everyone gravitated to a task. Anders spent most of his time in Amaranthine, healing the injured and sick. Howe divided his time between Amaranthine and the Keep; since he was familiar with both, he could tell the others the best or most important places to focus attention on. Oghren, once he recovered from his wounds, tended to stay at the Keep and assist with repairs to the walls and buildings. Justice either went out to the countryside to eliminate lingering darkspawn, or provided help to the citizens of Amaranthine. Velanna also spent a lot of time clearing out darkspawn, but would occasionally assist with something if asked (and if she didn’t have to work in too large a group). And as Warden-Commander, Amell went where she was needed, be it dealing with disputes of property or using her magic to clear debris. As for Mouse, he was generally unable to contribute, but once a repair was complete, he would run over or through it to make sure everything looked stable and supported. Most of the time, though, Amell allowed him to stay in a corner and read, until the library was restored and they were able to return to the old routine.

(Once it became obvious that Ferelden was going to be very generous with their donations, Amell put out a statement that in addition to money or building supplies, books to restock the Keep’s library would be very welcome. No one questioned her decision, though Varel shook his head and smiled faintly as he prepared to draw up the proclamation. Mouse didn’t ever say anything about it either, though when Amell presented him with a certain unfinished book, she saw his eyes flash with what she suspected was eager gratitude.)

By the time a year had passed, Amaranthine was livable again, and Amell could turn her full attention to the Keep and other bureaucratic matters. She still occasionally went out on missions, but generally delegated that to other Wardens, as she had a lot to occupy her. In-between repairs, meetings, and paperwork, however, she always tried to set aside a few non-sleeping hours for herself. She spent some of that time in conversation with her Wardens, hoping to be their friend when she wasn’t their commander. But she did her best to spend at least an hour in the library, talking with Mouse about his latest book or a related subject. It hadn’t been intended—she’d jokingly dropped in during a shift change to ask if the book she’d reacquired for him had been worth the effort—but when Mouse seemed happy to discuss his reading, Amell jumped at the opportunity. In time, it started to feel like their conversations at camp had, which she took to be an encouraging sign.

Occasionally, she was able to draw others into their talks. Oghren and Velanna only did it once or twice thanks to their enmity with Mouse, but all parties remained relatively civil while discussing aspects of Dwarven and Elven culture, respectively. Howe freely admitted he wasn’t one for philosophy, but did discuss historical events with Mouse a handful of times. Surprisingly, Anders and Justice were the two most regular additions, each coming to the library at least once a month (Justice agreed to come whenever Amell asked, and Anders would always show up, even if he made a big show of protesting when she’d first approach him). Neither of them were inclined to trust Mouse and would pepper their speech with warning remarks or jabs, but they were able to debate about the Fade or magic without Amell worrying that a fight was going to break out. She could tell the two of them still couldn’t fully understand why she kept Mouse around, but they no longer openly questioned her decision, and that was progress in itself. As long as the internal situation in the Keep was relatively stable, it would be easier for her to improve the external one.

***

And so a few years passed. Varel stepped down as seneschal thanks to injuries sustained during the attack on the Keep and was replaced by Garavel, who was equally competent after a period of adjustment. Amell’s Mabari was returned to her, and happily resumed his place by her side. She struck up correspondence with Wynne, Zevran, Loghain, and Leliana, informing them of her activities and getting updates on them and the outside world in return. She sent reports to the First Warden at Weisshaupt, and received responses that indicated he approved greatly of how she was handling things. Despite the stress that came with being Warden-Commander, Amell would happily have said if asked that she enjoyed her life.

While she threw herself into her duties and the repairs to the Keep, Amell still devoted at least a little time to Mouse and his hopeful rehabilitation. Knowing she couldn’t expect change to happen quickly, she tried not to constantly look for evidence of the corruption leaving him. Instead, she continued to let him remain in the library save for her forays out of the Keep, and spoke with him for at least an hour every day, hoping that kindness and constant exposure to new ideas would be enough to soften him, as it had once before. The one exception to this was on the occasions when he fell ill.

While most of Amell’s trips away from the Keep had been to relatively warm places, it seemed Mouse had indeed inherited Prescott’s tendency to catch cold at the start of winter. When Amell woke up one morning and felt the bite in the air that signaled the change of season, she immediately made her way to the library to check on Mouse. Sure enough, he’d moved from the new easy chair to sitting near the fire, and greeted her with a baleful look and a congested voice from stifling. Amell bit back her laughter and told Gilles to fetch some handkerchiefs as well as clean and warm scraps of cloth to make Mouse another nest. To Mouse’s relief, Amell quickly determined that he probably wouldn’t need a fever reducer as long as he stayed by the fire, something he immediately decided to abide by. Once the nest was completed, Mouse climbed into it and fell asleep minutes later. Amell took advantage of that opportunity to take another look at Mouse’s fur in the firelight. In the five or so months since the last time she’d looked, the brown in Mouse’s fur had gone from “possible trick of the light” to “unquestionably present”. It hadn’t fully replaced his black fur, and it was dark enough that it would be difficult to tell there was a difference, but it was enough to keep Amell hopeful. Though she said nothing about it to either Mouse or her companions, figuring bringing attention to it would be more a hindrance than a help.

Mouse fell ill three more times after that, twice during winter and a third time after an excursion to Anselm’s Reef, an inlet that was pelted with a rainstorm when she and her team arrived. Each time, Amell examined Mouse’s fur while he slept, and each time, there was a change. The first time, she couldn’t find any trace of black fur, only the dark brown. The second time, the brown was starting to lighten. And the third time, not only had his entire body returned to the original shade it had been when she first met him (though it had happened so gradually that Amell hadn’t actively noticed), but the firelight revealed that his fur was starting to change into an even lighter tawny color. She continued to keep this information to herself, but that, combined with Mouse’s drastic reduction of biting insults, was enough to make her believe the Archdemon’s corruption was well on its way to leaving him. There was only one way to be sure, though, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that test. So instead, she bided her time and waited for the right opportunity.

That opportunity came just on the cusp of her fourth year as Warden-Commander. She received word from Weisshaupt that the First Warden had stepped down in preparation to go on his Calling, which brought the reminder of her own mortality crashing back. After defeating the Archdemon with no Wardens lost and then throwing herself into resolving the darskpawn issue and rebuilding the region, it had been easy to forget that being a Warden meant being cursed with a shortened lifespan. It was a gross injustice, as far as she was concerned; the Wardens dedicated their lives to protecting others, and not only were they rarely acknowledged for their deeds (saving in the immediate aftermath of a Blight), but they died far too young, and generally unable to have children to boot. It was obvious they needed to find a cure or prevention for the Calling, and Amell was more than willing to take on that job.

Once she made up her mind, Amell immediately wrote to the new First Warden, stating her intention and asking for permission to do so. After a few months, a reply arrived, granting the permission, included all documents pertaining to a cure the Wardens had gathered over the years, and asking that she remain as Ferelden’s Warden-Commander until her replacement arrived in another two months. Amell agreed readily, since it would give her time to make preparations and tie up any loose ends. To that end, she wrote letters to her friends, informing them that she would be on a long journey and would be difficult to get in contact with, but she’d write when she could. She also wrote up documents for her successor so she could set out without having to train them. Then there was the matter of packing for her trip, gathering up as many health poultices and lyrium potions as she could, and figuring out the best places to look for information, as well as the most efficient order to visit them. She continued to do her duties and visit with Mouse, but it did mean she had very little time for herself, and collapsed exhausted in bed every night. She only complained internally, though; if this extra work led to a cure, it would be worth it in the end.

At last, her replacement, a man named Hamon Dicun, arrived at Vigil’s Keep, and Amell gave him a tour and told him the most important things he needed to know. The next day, they held a formal ceremony where she stepped down as Warden-Commander and Dicun assumed the position. A celebratory banquet was held that evening, where Amell had a chance to make her goodbyes to everyone. Even Mouse was convinced to leave the library and attend, bantering with his regular sparring partners one last time. Despite the repeated refrain of “good riddance”, Amell got the feeling most of them would miss him at least a little, and almost suspected the feeling was mutual.

The next morning, Amell put on her pack, took a last look around her room, whistled for her dog to follow her, then went to the library and dispelled the glyph for the last time. Mouse was already in his pouch waiting for her, the chair and end table devoid of books for once. Amell smiled at him and attached the pouch to her hip, nodding to Amista. “I’ve asked Warden Dicun to continue to pay you and the other two the same wages,” she said, “Though you’ll be returning to more typical duties. I can’t promise he’ll do so, however, so I wanted to warn you of a possible change. Let the others know.” Amista bowed and left the room, Amell following behind shortly thereafter.

As she walked through the halls, she ran into her friends, who had made sure to wake up early to see her off. Oghren clapped her on the back (or rather the small of her back) and told her to raise a glass for him every so often; Howe thanked her for all she’d done to help him restore his family’s name; Velanna warned her not to get into any trouble, which was her way of saying “be careful”; Justice, whose body looked in even worse shape than it had when he’d first been pulled into the mortal realm, admitted he would probably never see her again but praised her for trying to make things right for the Wardens; and Anders made a few jokes, though his misty eyes gave his true feelings away. Giving all of them one last handshake, Amell made her way to the throne room, said goodbye to Garavel and Dicun, and then, at last, left the Keep.

Amell’s plan was to head for Amaranthine, then to the nearby port, where she, Mouse, and the Mabari would board a ship to take them across the Waking Sea. From there, they’d head overland to the Tevinter Imperium. Despite its reputation, it was the best starting point Amell had for looking for magical spells or rituals that could stop the Calling. And as a mage, she probably wouldn’t have much trouble getting in. It was getting to Tevinter that would be the hard part; while her status as the Hero of Ferelden would help, she was still a mage, and not everyone would be accepting of her. But if she only went into towns when necessary, hid her staff when she did so, and presented the Writ of Dispensation that the new First Warden had given her if trouble arose, she would hopefully make it through relatively unscathed. First, though, she needed to get to Amaranthine, the last place where she’d be guaranteed a warm welcome.

She was probably a little over halfway to the city when night fell, at which point she made camp. Once her tent was set up and the fire burning, she looked down at Mouse, hesitating. During the course of all her preparations, she had realized that this journey would be the perfect time to test her theory regarding Mouse, but now that the moment was actually upon her, she couldn’t help but be nervous. What if she was wrong? What if this one mistake was enough to undo all the good she’d done?

There was only one way to find out, though, and putting it off would make it harder to actually commit to. So she took a deep breath and said;

“Mouse?”

“Mmm?” Mouse said, looking up at her.

“I…I have an offer for you.”

“Oh?” Mouse sounded decidedly intrigued.

“The quicker I can find a cure for the Calling, the better. My research would go a lot faster if I had an extra pair of eyes…and hands.”

“You trust me to look through magic books? I’m sur…” Mouse’s voice died away as he registered the final part of her sentence. He immediately put his front paws on the lip of the pouch and looked up intently at her. “Are you saying…?”

Amell nodded. “I’m willing to lift my shapeshifting spell. But it’s going to come with a lot of restrictions. When we make camp on the roadside, you can stay in your human form in a separate tent and read, but I’m going to put all the old glyphs and wards on it. When we stay at inns, you’ll resume your mouse form and share my room, where you’ll also be surrounded by protective spells. You’re still forbidden from attacking me, my dog, or anyone I deem an ally, and you aren’t allowed to use any magic besides changing forms unless I allow it. This is especially true of your s…demon form. If you find anything in your reading that seems like it could be of use to my work, let me know immediately and I’ll take a look for myself. I’ll be the one to give you books to look through; you can’t choose them for yourself, although I’m willing to make exceptions if it’s a non-magic related text and is for your evening reading. Should you violate any of those rules, I’ll recast the shapeshifting spell. Or, if I deem it necessary, I’ll kill you. Is that clear?”

“Very clear,” Mouse said, eyes shining, “Were you planning on casting the spell tonight?”

“Now seems as good a time as any.” Amell confirmed, leaving unspoken the thought that doing it here would hopefully minimize casualties if Mouse turned on her. Walking over to a nearby tree, she lifted Mouse out of the pouch and set him on the ground. The Mabari gave a curious whine, but remained by the fire, watching cautiously. Taking a few steps away, Amell lifted her staff and made the necessary gestures to end the spell. “There,” she said, continuing to hold onto the staff just in case he tried anything, “Give it a try.”

There was a brief pause, a quick flash of white light, and Mouse’s human form was in front of her. He immediately staggered and threw out a hand to help support him, finding the bark of the tree as Amell had planned. Amell took advantage of his temporary disorientation to take a look at him. She was slightly surprised to see that his hair was still dark; given the change to his fur as a mouse, she’d expected his hair to follow suit. But he looked the same as the last time she’d seen his human form, complete with the brown cloak she’d bought for him at Haven and, just visible at his side, his personal pouch of handkerchiefs. She let herself smile for a moment, then focused her attention on Mouse’s actions.

Mouse blinked and shook his head a few times, then turned to look at her. Even by the firelight, Amell could see that his eyes were the same mercurial blue they had been before the transformation, when he’d taken on the black eyes of a mouse. That was more of an encouraging sign; she suspected that if he’d still had a large amount of corruption inside him, his eyes would have been black or red. “How does it feel?” she asked.

“Different,” Mouse admitted, “I’m not used to seeing things from this high up, and it’s been a long time since I had to move like this. It’s probably going to take some time for me to readjust.”

“That’s why I packed a non-magic staff,” Amell said, “You can lean on that until you’ve reminded yourself how human legs work. As for arms and hands, I think you’ll figure that out a lot quicker. If nothing else, it’ll make turning pages a lot easier.”

Mouse chuckled at that. “Indeed. Perhaps you could fetch that staff now? I can try to practice walking while you make dinner for yourself and the dog.”

Amell nodded, then signaled for the Mabari to keep an eye on Mouse while she got the staff. As she moved away, still holding onto her staff in a way that was only somewhat subtly pointed in Mouse’s direction, she heard him laugh again. “All these years, and you’re still wary around me. I knew there was a reason you’re one of the few mages I respect.”

Amell outwardly ignored him as she retrieved the staff, but when she lowered her head to her pack, she took advantage of the moment to beam. Mouse wouldn’t have openly admitted to respecting her in the early days of his corruption, yet here he was saying it as a statement of fact. The odds were high that he still wouldn’t consider her a friend, but it was a reassuring hint that she’d made the right choice. Though only time would truly prove her right, and until then, she’d continue taking precautions. As Mouse himself had alluded to, it was the smart thing to do.

***

Next time: Amell and Mouse (and the dog) make it to Tevinter, where they find a completely different environment...and Mouse finds himself sneezing for a new reason.

Edited June 1, 2019 by Wig_Powder

[rockbell]

awwww can't wait to see what happens next!!

[Wig_Powder]

@rockbell Quite a bit, as you'll see...

Chapter 17

The remaining walk to Amaranthine was slower than the previous days had been, since Mouse still needed to adjust to walking on two legs. Amell had foreseen this, and didn’t begrudge the extra time. Besides, it gave her a chance to keep an eye on Mouse to see if he was testing her limits, which would give her more of a sense of how much freedom she’d be willing to grant him as time passed. Of course, she knew Mouse knew she was watching him, so perhaps it was a fruitless exercise. Still, knowing she was watching would still be somewhat of a deterrent, so she continued to do it regardless.

By the time they arrived in Amaranthine, Mouse was a lot steadier on his feet, though he didn’t seem inclined to try walking without the staff just yet. It didn’t help that she told him to return to his mouse form before they took a room in the Crown and Lion, since the innkeeper was used to seeing a mouse in her pouch by now and would ask questions if he wasn’t there. It was unlikely to completely undo all his progress, but she could see how it would be annoying for him. She tried to make it up to him the next morning by stopping by a book stall and getting him five books for the journey, which he was more than happy to accept. With that done, she took one last look around the city, then left through the other entrance, on the way to the port.

It was easy to book passage on a ship heading for the Free Marches, and Amell was even honest enough (despite Mouse suggesting otherwise) to pay for two humans and a dog. They shared a cabin for the duration of the trip, but Mouse still assumed his mouse form in the evenings, while the dog slept on the other bed, something Mouse good-naturedly groused about. The journey itself was uneventful; once Amell recovered from a bout of sea-sickness, she alternated between exercising with the dog, trying to figure out the best avenues of research to start with, and talking with Mouse, both about the cure and about his reading. For his part, Mouse spent the first part of the journey readjusting to his human form (admittedly not an easy thing to do when you need to deal with sea legs on top of normal legs), and then was content to stay in their cabin and read, which Amell allowed him to do without supervision (though she did remove her pack from the room and put an unobtrusive glyph on the door before leaving him). It was relatively peaceful, and Amell welcomed the rest, given the work that was ahead.

Once they landed in the Free Marches, the small group followed the route Amell had mapped out, one that was relatively close to cities and towns but just enough off the beaten path that they wouldn’t encounter too many people. Mouse got to retain his human form for several weeks, since they were always out of town before nightfall and there was no one there who was more familiar with him as a mouse. The trip was more difficult than the boat ride had been—they were attacked by a few bandits, and keeping to forest paths meant rougher living—but compared to some of their travels during the Blight and in the early months of her time as Warden-Commander, it wasn’t too challenging. Even so, it took them several months to cross into Tevinter controlled territory, entering it just before the onset of winter.

Since they’d begun their journey in the summer, Amell had grown used to travelling in warm weather, and had been more focused on the day’s journey than any changes (or lack thereof) in temperature. It wasn’t until they stopped to buy some supplies from a merchant that Amell learned that it was winter. Mouse seemed as surprised by this as she was, and the merchant noticed their expressions. “New to Tevinter, eh?” When Amell nodded, he continued “It’s almost always warm here. It can get unbearable in the summer, but winters are much more pleasant than they are in the rest of Thedas, at least based on my experience. Don’t ask me if the weather’s controlled by the magisters or not, though; they aren’t telling one way or the other.” Amell obligingly smiled politely and finished the transaction.

Once they’d moved away, Mouse said “Do you think it’s possible we could return to live here once you’ve found a cure? I think it may be the perfect temperature for me, and perhaps I’d never have to deal with illness again.”

Amell chuckled. “We’re going to be spending at least two years here scouring the various libraries around the Imperium. Let’s see what else the region has to offer besides comfortable weather.” Mouse nodded in agreement before turning his head upwards to enjoy the sun on his face.

Another week of travel brought them in sight of Ventus, a walled city close to the sea. Even from this distance, it looked imposing, seeming to glitter when the sun was directly overhead. It was a reminder of what the Imperium was capable of, and even though the residents would probably be accepting of her thanks to her magic, Amell couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Reminding herself of all she’d survived prior to now, however, she squared her shoulders and pressed on.

When they finally arrived at the city gates, Amell presented the guards with a letter of introduction from the First Warden, which explained her purpose and requested access to the city’s library. The guards allowed her inside, but told her it would be at least a week before the local magisters would discuss her request. Amell didn’t mind too much, as it would give her a chance to explore the city. After getting a recommendation for an inn to stay at, Amell, Mouse, and the dog were allowed to pass through the gates.

While the city wasn’t quite as grand as it had appeared from a distance, it was still very striking. All the major buildings were carved of white marble that looked like they were polished daily, and were topped with bronze or gold roofs. The streets weren’t paved, but they were smooth and relatively clean. Horse drawn carriages passed by frequently, though most people seemed to travel by foot. While it wasn’t as opulent as the stories had made it seem, it was certainly one of the grander places Amell had been.

As her little group made their way to the inn, Amell noticed a lot of the people she passed would take a few steps to the side as she approached. Initially, she thought they were giving her a wide berth because she was an outsider, but then she realized that they would follow this up by bowing, or at least inclining their heads. That’s when she remembered that she was wearing robes that matched the designs that mages in Tevinter wore. Either they thought she was a visiting magister, or they were just showing deference to an obvious mage. She’d have found it flattering if the response wasn’t so automatic, or if the bows weren’t accompanied by a flash of fear in people’s eyes. While she was somewhat used to people being wary around her due to her magic, that wariness was mixed with contempt. These nervous glances were tempered with awe, and that was disconcerting.

When they finally arrived at the inn, Amell paid for a week’s room and board. It was only when she was turning towards the stairs when the innkeeper spoke up. “Er…Ser? I hate to ask this of you, but…your dog can’t stay in the room with you.”

“What? Why?” Amell asked, turning back to look at the woman.

The woman visibly shrunk back. “B-because the smell might bother other guests. Of course, if it’s absolutely essential that he stay with you, I’d be willing to make an exception…” she said, speaking rapidly and trying to sound reassuring but only coming across as scared.

Amell sighed and scratched behind her dog’s ears. “No, it’s all right. I’ll defer to your customs. I’m the visitor here, after all. Where can he stay?”

The innkeeper looked relieved. “We have an inner courtyard with beautiful gardens and plenty of shaded areas. He’ll be quite comfortable there, and we’ll make sure to give him a lovely satin pillow to sleep on, as well as the choicest meats every day!”

The Mabari, who had been looking at the innkeeper skeptically during all this, perked up at the sound of the meat. Amell patted his head. “That will be fine. Just make sure to give him a bowl of fresh water every day as well. I don’t want him overheating in this climate.”

“Of course, of course!” the woman said, “I’ll tell the slaves to make sure of it!”

Now it was Amell’s turn to blanch. She’d mostly forgotten that slavery was still allowed in the Imperium. She felt like she should say something, perhaps declare she’d take care of the Mabari herself, but wasn’t sure if that would lead to trouble, either with the slaves or with the magisters who would be deciding if she could look at the library. Sighing guiltily, she just nodded and moved towards the door that led to the gardens.

The gardens were indeed a sight to behold, full of shiny dark green leaves and bright blooms, with a fountain in the center and a covered walkway held up by elegant columns. Amell looked around, only partially taking in the view, her mind still trying to adjust to the reminder of why Tevinter was so despised. Then she knelt down to talk to her dog.

“Be on your best behavior, all right? I don’t want anyone getting in trouble because of us.”

The dog barked in agreement. Amell glanced around, then lowered her voice.

“That being said…if you think you can get away with it, feel free to ‘water’ the plants on occasion.”

The Mabari wagged his tail and gave a much happier bark. Giving him another pet, she left him to explore, while she and Mouse went to find their room. It was just as opulent as the rest of the city, with brocade sashes above the four poster bed, wood polished until it shone, and gilt everywhere. Amell set her pack on the floor and started sorting through her things. As she pulled out her notes and writing implements, Mouse spoke for the first time since entering the city.

“It’s like the Fade, isn’t it? You can’t be sure what you’ll find, but you know it’s unlikely to be good.”

“Perhaps that’s why it’s always warm here,” Amell said, with more anger in her voice than she’d intended, “The Imperium wants to emulate the Fade as much as possible, to show how close they are to the Maker.”

Mouse sighed. “I’ve changed my mind. When we’re finished with our business here, let’s never come back.”

“Agreed.” Amell said, searching in her pack for their books.

***

Amell and Mouse spent the next week looking around the city as they’d originally planned, finding it magnificent and terrible by turns. The architecture was glorious and the food was delicious, but the non-magical inhabitants were unquestionably treated as lesser, and there was an almost palpable feeling of snobbery. If they lingered in a place, they were almost certain to hear gossip about some Altus or another, and family names peppered every conversation. It may have been refreshing to see magic openly being practiced, but the tradeoffs hardly seemed worth it.

On the evening of the sixth day, a message arrived for Amell asking her to come to the magister’s council chambers the next morning. Amell immediately requested baths be drawn for her and Mouse. Then she changed into a bathrobe, ordered Mouse to do the same, and used a combination of magic, water, and soap to clean, polish, and repair their robes until being told the baths were ready. The next morning, she spent extra time on her hair, looking in the mirror until she was sure there wasn’t a single strand out of place. “I don’t know why you’re going to so much trouble,” Mouse said, peering over the top of his book, “I’m not sure I want to be thought of positively by these people.”

“We need to make a good first impression, at least,” Amell said, “Otherwise, we might be denied access to the library, and other libraries in Tevinter besides. With luck, we’ll never have to interact with them again, and can say and do what we like. But for today, I’m going to be on my best behavior, and I’m ordering you to do the same.”

“Very well,” Mouse said, “Though if they decide you should attend all their insipid parties, at least allow me to use my mouse form to hide in the shadows and not engage with them.”

Amell smiled a little at that. “I believe I’d be amenable to that.”

Half-an-hour before the meeting, Amell and Mouse arrived at the council building, and were shown into an antechamber with a high, arched roof, plenty of natural light, and walls covered with paintings. The man who allowed them in sized them up, then directed Amell to a chair inlaid with gems while telling Mouse to stand. Mouse glared at the back of the man’s head as he departed before looking at Amell. Amell sighed and shook her head. “Just this once, Mouse. Just until we’ve got our library access.” Mouse narrowed his eyes, but obeyed.

At last, the two of them were summoned to the council chambers, which were even larger and grander than the antechamber. Amell stood in the center of the floor, Mouse a little behind her, and had to look up at the magisters, who were sitting on benches above her. Thanks to the circular design of the room, it was impossible to see all the people present, which added to the intimidation. Amell just squared her shoulders, held her head high, and kept her hands loosely at her sides, waiting for one of the magisters to speak.

A minute or two passed while the man directly across from Amell, who she assumed was the leader, looked over a piece of paper. Finally, he set it down and addressed Amell. “We are familiar with your name, Warden Amell. The fact that a Blight was defeated by a mage did not escape our notice. Our congratulations on showing Thedas the power of magic. Perhaps this will help them start to come round to our way of thinking, and allow our magical brethren to be free.”

Amell inclined her head. “I would be honored to have contributed to that.”

“As for your request, it is a noble one, to be sure. In addition, we see no reason for a mage not to better themselves. We are inclined to grant you access to our library, and write a letter of recommendation that should allow you near-immediate access to the other libraries across Tevinter. However, we have one request of you first.”

“And what would that be?” Amell asked, her throat dry.

The magister gestured down at her. “It has not escaped our attention that you have a spirit bound to you, and a powerful one at that. Given that our practices are typically held in contempt in the rest of Thedas, we’d like to hear how such a thing came to be.”

Amell didn’t dare risk a glance at Mouse, but she was almost certain he’d tensed up beside her. Figuring it was safe to tell most of the truth, she answered the question.

“I met this spirit in the Fade during my Harrowing, as the test I had to pass. I was successful, and then was taken away from my Circle to become a Warden. During the Blight, the Circle was besieged by demons, and my party returned to deal with them. After we rescued the First Enchanter, we were told that one demon was still alive, having leapt into the body of a just-killed apprentice. We went to where he…”

“‘He?’” the magister repeated, sounding almost amused, “You refer to it as a ‘he?’ Spirits are just things, tools to be used. Would you refer to your staff as such?”

Amell fervently hoped that Mouse’s expression hadn’t become obviously murderous. “A force of habit. The apprentice the spirit now inhabits was male, after all.”

“Of course. Please, continue.”

Knowing it was unwise to refer to Mouse by name, Amell continued “The spirit was being contained by magic, and recognized me. I had read about your practice of binding spirits prior to my Harrowing, and knowing the stories of how the Blight came to be, I thought perhaps he could be of use. My First Enchanter had the knowledge to cast the spell once the spirit was weakened, and he’s been bound to me ever since.”

“Very impressive,” the magister said, “Could we see its spirit form? We’d like to see just how powerful it really is.”

The faint anxiety pressing against Amell’s heart became a vise of panic. While she clearly still had control over Mouse in his human form, she’d never allowed him to change into his spirit form, in case he was still a pride demon or worse. Allowing him to change to his true form might give him enough power to break the bond. On the other hand, denying their request would probably suggest weakness and could jeopardize her access to the library, cutting off a huge avenue of research for a cure. Either way, the outcome wouldn’t be good.

These thoughts all flashed through her mind in a split second, and she knew she needed to give an answer quickly. Stepping to the side, she looked over at Mouse. While he was admirably keeping his mouth in a neutral position, she could see barely contained anger in his eyes as he looked up at the magisters. Saying a quick prayer to the Maker in her head, she spoke aloud.

“Go on. We shouldn’t keep the magisters waiting.”

Mouse gave her a brief, unreadable glance, and then he was surrounded by a flash of white light. Amell’s hands balled into fists, hoping that if he did become a pride demon, he would be more inclined to attack the magisters before turning on her.

A few moments passed, but the light didn’t disappear. Soon, Mouse could be seen in his human shape, surrounded and covered by a white-gold aura. He glanced down at himself, head tilting to the side in curiosity, and Amell let out a deep exhale. It was possible he’d found a way to assume a more spirit-looking form while hiding his true shape, but based on his reaction, it appeared that her judgments about his level of corruption had been right.

Now that her heart was no longer pounding in her ears, she could hear approving murmurs all around her. “Very impressive indeed,” the chief magister said, “You made an excellent judgment when you selected this one. Permission to search through our libraries and archives is hereby granted, and a note saying as much, as well as a letter of recommendation, will be sent to your inn by the end of the day.”

Amell bowed deeply. “Thank you, lords and ladies. You do me a great honor, and I and the Wardens are grateful for it.”

“Naturally,” the magister said, “You may leave now. And when you wish to take time away from your research, I do hope you’ll consider attending some of our evening fêtes. It can be bracing to hear how much the other regions hate us.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Amell said, her tone as sincere as she could make it. Then she looked at Mouse and gestured towards the door. “Come along, then. We mustn’t take up any more of the magisters’ time.” With that, she bowed again and then moved towards the exit as quickly as she dared, knowing without looking that Mouse was right behind her.

Mouse (who returned to his human form once they were in the antechamber) managed to retain his composure until they were out on the street and at least thirty strides away from the building. At that point, he let out a stream of Fade invectives that caused people to either stare or back away slowly. While his tone was enough to make Amell’s skin prickle, she patiently walked alongside him as she waited for him to finish. When there was finally a lull in the swearing, she said;

“I’m sorry about that, Mouse. But it got us what we wanted. And I promise, I won’t subject you to that again if I can help it.”

“I’m not sure you’ll have much choice in the matter,” Mouse growled, “If we wind up staying here long enough, it’ll probably behoove you to attend at least one of their insipid gatherings to show the proper gratitude. And I’m sure they’ll expect you to bring along your ‘servant’ so they can ooh and aah over your ‘power’.”

Amell sighed. “You’re probably right. But I’ll do what I can to keep it to a minimum.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for. Thank you.” Amell nodded, and they continued walking for a bit. Then Mouse said;

“I know your dogged determination will get you in trouble one of these days…but you may have been right in my case. I wouldn’t have believed it possible to happen twice, but there you are.”

Amell smiled. “Consider it my own point of pride. One I learned from an expert.”

Mouse smiled back. “Are you saying I corrupted you while you purified me?”

“I prefer to think of it as us tempering each other.”

Mouse considered for a moment. Then he nodded. “I think I like that.”

Amell’s heart lightened considerably at that. And when they arrived at the inn, she made it a point to hold open the door and let him go in first.

***

As promised, the letters granting Amell access to the various Tevinter libraries arrived that night. Amell wasted no time, and went to the Ventus library the next morning, Mouse right on her heels. After everything she’d seen of Tevinter design, she shouldn’t have been surprised when she was allowed inside, but still had to take a few seconds to gape in awe anyway. The entire central room was packed from floor (well, ankle-height) to ceiling with books, spiral staircases and walkways allowing you to reach the different levels. Each walkway was decorated with frescoes, natural light poured in from all directions to make it easier to read, and the floor was made of dark red wood that was polished enough to gleam and provide a contrast to the lighter walls. When she finally tore her eyes away and glanced at Mouse, she saw him vibrating with excitement, and bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Come on. Let’s see if we can figure out where to start looking for the cure.”

After asking the curator how the books were arranged, Amell and Mouse found their way to a likely section of the library (Healing Magic) and looked through the titles until they’d each selected half a dozen books that had promise. Sadly, a good number of the books were in Tevene, but there were enough in the common tongue to give them a place to start. They were then directed to a side room where they could read in peace, complete with plush chairs covered in embroidery and tables that looked brand new. The worker who guided them there even offered to bring them tea, which they declined for the time being. Instead, they piled up their books and set to work.

Not two minutes in, Amell was jolted out of her reading by a sound she hadn’t heard in months. “Hiktich! Hiptchiew!”

Amell set down her book and peered over at Mouse curiously, wondering why he’d decided to change into his mouse form. To her surprise, he was still in his human form, handkerchief pressed to his nose. “Swift healing,” she said, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t believe I’m suddenly falling ill, if that’s what you mean,” Mouse said, sounding annoyed, “Though my nose has started itching for no reason I can determine.”

A thought and a vague memory flashed through Amell’s mind at the same time. “Did it start shortly after you opened a book?”

“Yes,” Mouse replied, “Why?”

“A theory. Lift the book to your face and take a breath through your nose.”

Mouse gave her a skeptical look, but did as she instructed. Seconds later, he dropped the book and clapped the handkerchief to his face again. “Itshhk! Kishh!” Despite unquestionably being in his human form, his sneezes sounded like they did when he was a mouse, an odd change. There was, however, something more pressing to discuss.

“Swift healing. You’re allergic to dust.”

“I can’t be,” Mouse said, shaking his head, “I’ve spent years reading books in various stages of cleanliness, with my nose close to the page, no less. Not to mention all those times I crawled around in walls and floorboards, which had quite an accumulation of dust as well.”

“I don’t deny it’s odd, but that’s the most likely explanation. I think Prescott was allergic to it too, which would explain your reaction.”

Mouse looked from her to the book on the ground and back again. Then he transformed into his mouse form and hopped down to the book, sticking his nose directly onto the pages and inhaling deeply. “A lot of it may have been knocked loose when you dropped it,” Amell pointed out, picking up one of her books and moving to crouch down beside him, “Try this one.”

Mouse obligingly pressed his nose against that one too. Several deep breaths later, he pulled away and shook his head. “Nothing. A bit of prickling, maybe, but no desperate need to sneeze.”

“All right. Now try it again as a human.”

Mouse transformed again, took the book from her, and sniffed it. His face immediately contorted, and he pressed the book to his chest as he stifled the sneeze. “Hipff!”

“Swift healing,” Amell said, an idea forming in her mind, “One more test; try it in your spirit form.”

Mouse did so, sniffing the book again. When nothing happened, he brought the book a little closer and took a deeper breath. They both waited, but no sneeze was forthcoming. “I think I know what’s going on,” Amell said, “Your spirit and mouse forms are Fade-based, which somehow blocks the allergic reaction. But when you’re human, the natural responses of Prescott’s body take over.”

“Explain my colds, then.” Mouse said, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Spirits don’t do well in the cold, clearly. I didn’t say it was a complete theory.”

“Something to discuss at a later date. What do we do about this?”

“Ordinarily, I’d suggest staying in your spirit form while you read, but given the way Tevinters are about bound spirits, that may draw undue attention. You can do it with the books we bring back to the inn, but not here in the library. Instead, I’ll buy a cloth and wipe down all the books we pick before we start reading. That’s how Prescott handled it, and it should work for you.”

“We can hope,” Mouse said, retrieving the dropped book from the floor and handing her book back, “Just do me one favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Make sure the cloth you buy is something gaudy and not meant to be used for cleaning. I’ll take great pleasure in ruining a piece of Tevinter artistry.”

Amell laughed. “You’ve got a deal.”

***

Once the dust issue was sorted out, Amell and Mouse threw themselves into their research. Even with almost incontrovertible proof that Mouse was a spirit again, Amell still stuck to the rules she’d laid down when she’d lifted the shapeshifting spell and made Mouse alert her to anything he found that could be of use so she could judge for herself. But to show that she was inclined to trust him, she added several books on learning the Tevinter language to the pile of books they took back with them to the inn, encouraging Mouse to read them in the evenings. She even allowed him to stay in his human or spirit form to avoid damaging the books, though he still had to have glyphs cast on him. Even with the lack of sleep and his general ability to pick up on things quickly, Amell suspected it would take him a few months to become fully fluent, by which time she’d probably be ready to start lifting the restrictions on him. In the meantime, they could continue to focus on the books in the common tongue, which they were in no danger of running out of.

Two weeks into their work, Amell received an invitation from Magister Luciana, requesting her presence at a dinner party in a week. As Mouse had predicted, the invitation also included a note asking her to bring along her "servant". She looked at Mouse apologetically, and he sighed and shrugged. “We might as well, just to keep up a good reputation. I’m sure we can find an excuse to leave after an hour or two.”

When the evening of the party rolled around, Amell once again spent a little longer on her appearance, complete with a jeweled headpiece she’d purchased just for the occasion. She did feel a little guilty about spending so much on a decorative piece, but it would be useful in its own way, and she could always sell it later if need be. Once she was sure her appearance was the best it could be, she and Mouse reluctantly made their way to the address given on the invitation.

When they arrived, Amell presented the invitation to the doorman, who scrutinized both of them carefully. “This is the spirit?” he asked, gesturing to Mouse.

“Yes,” Amell said, “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. I was merely under the impression that it was a particularly powerful spirit. It doesn’t appear to be so, and that may be a disappointment to Magister Luciana.”

Amell looked over at Mouse, inclining her head. Mouse gave the doorman a dark look, but promptly shifted into his spirit form. “Much better,” the doorman said, “I’ll announce you now.”

Mouse’s mood didn’t much improve as the party went on, and Amell could understand why. While the guests all looked him over approvingly, they never addressed him directly, instead asking Amell questions about him. They also continued to refer to him as “it”, and smiled indulgently at her when she said “him” instead. When dinner was served, it became clear immediately that Mouse was supposed to be her personal valet, keeping her glass filled and standing beside her chair to do whatever she asked of him. Whenever Amell dared risk a glance at him, she could see he was keeping his expression blank, but she knew he’d be swearing again as soon as it was safe to do so.

Not that Amell was enjoying herself much, either. While she wouldn’t deny that Luciana’s home was stunning and the food was rich and flavorful, the company left a lot to be desired. While Luciana and her guests pressed her for stories of the Blight and praised her talents, she could detect the condescension underlying most of their words. They looked down on her for being from Ferelden, for not having much of a family name, and for not doing much to aid her fellow mages. They were also all too happy to brag about their exploits, while disparaging the efforts of others. The primary activities of the nobility seemed to be brown-nosing and backstabbing, and Amell quickly determined that the best way to avoid getting too caught up in it was to just smile, nod, and say encouraging words every so often.

It was an hour after dinner before Amell thought it would be safe to take her leave. Making her goodbyes and thanking her hostess for a lovely evening, she signaled to Mouse and the two of them made their escape, albeit in a dignified fashion. Mouse returned to his human form as soon as they were out of sight of the house, but he remained surprisingly silent. Amell suspected he was building up to quite the angry tirade, however, and allowed him to stew while she turned things over in her head. Halfway back to their inn, an idea came to her, and she smiled. Perhaps it would be enough to leave everybody satisfied.

When they were safely back in their room, Amell turned to Mouse before he could open his mouth. “I have a proposition for you, Mouse. I’m even willing to give you an enormous amount of trust to do it. I hope you don’t violate that trust.”

Mouse blinked in surprise. “Go on.”

“The Tevinters see us as a novelty at best, invisible at worst. They also assume that I treat you the way they treat their slaves, spirits or otherwise. They wouldn’t expect me to allow you the freedom to, say, wander the city at night to gather information. And none of them are aware that you have the ability to turn into a mouse, which can allow you to get into some very private places.”

The look on Mouse’s face was that of a child receiving a long-awaited item for their birthday. “You’d really let me do that?”

“I’d expect you to not get caught, and to keep spending a few nights a week working on learning Tevene. And murder is out of the question. But if you want to use the abilities at your disposal to learn the dirty little secrets of the Tevinter nobility, and to spread those secrets to interested parties, I’m not about to stop you.”

Mouse’s eyes glowed. “When can I begin?”

“Tonight, if you want. Just make sure you’re back here before dawn.”

Mouse nodded and immediately turned towards the door. Just as his hand touched the handle, however, he looked back at her. “Thank you. I assure you, no one will suspect my involvement, and especially not yours.”

Amell smiled. “I’m sure. You’ll have to let me know what you got up to; I wouldn’t mind living the adventure vicariously.”

“You’ll get a full account. After all, you can’t appreciate the end result if you don’t know what it took to get there.”

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Amell turned her attention to removing her headpiece before settling down to make more notes from her books. She, at least, would do her best to have a quiet evening. Or at least have the appearance of one.

***

Next time: More time passes, the world outside Tevinter goes to hell in a handbasket, and Amell has an unexpected encounter with a familiar face...

[Wig_Powder]

WARNING: This chapter contains MASSIVE SPOILERS for the events of Dragon Age II.

Chapter 18

Amell and Mouse ended up spending a little over a year in Ventus, reading through what felt like at least a quarter of the library. While they didn’t find anything that would unquestionably prevent the Calling, they did come across several spells and potions that might be able to extend a Warden’s lifespan if used in conjunction with each other. It was a good start, but Amell felt they could do better.

Along the way, Mouse finally got a grasp of the language and began reading exclusively in Tevene, making careful notes and presenting them to Amell at the end of the day so she could see if there was anything she could use. Amell was near positive she could trust that the information was accurate, for three reasons. First, she had given Mouse explicit orders to report his findings honestly. Second, she was slowly starting to learn Tevene as well, so she’d eventually be able to check for herself. And third, she suspected Mouse wasn’t inclined to cause trouble for her when he was having much more fun toying with all the nobility in Ventus.

While Mouse never told her everything he did when he ventured out at night (they’d quickly agreed she needed some plausible deniability), she knew he was almost always successful at getting into the inner sanctums of the elite. Once there, he would poke around, looking for anything that could damage a reputation or at least cause gossip. After that, he found ways to disseminate that information. Amell didn’t ask how, but she did notice he was much less reluctant to attend parties, which they did at least once a month. Said parties were still full of backhanded compliments and open snobbery, but she enjoyed listening to the gossip, wondering how much of it had been helped along by Mouse.

Eventually, Amell and Mouse determined that they’d gone through all the books that had anything of potential value to the cause, meaning it was time to move on to another city. The plan was to travel across Tevinter, staying in any city that had a large library, before finally reaching the capital city of Minrathous, which was sure to have material the other cities didn’t. Perhaps the information contained there would be enough to devise a cure, but if not, they’d figure out the next step at that point.

And so the group of three set out again, all in reasonably high spirits. While the Mabari was sad to leave behind a steady source of high quality food, he knew the odds were good he’d get similar treatment at the other cities they visited. Amell was glad to be making forward progress and to have a break from Tevinter attitudes. Mouse, meanwhile, just seemed satisfied at a job well done.

After two months, they arrived at Perivantium, which would also connect them to the Imperial Highway and make travelling a little easier. While the city wasn’t as grand as Ventus, it was still lavishly decorated, and the nobility was just as arrogant. The moment someone referred to Mouse as “it”, the two of them exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that they’d be starting the same routine here as well.

Indeed, the next few years passed in a similar cycle. The three of them would arrive in a new city; the Mabari would have to be billeted outside (though always well taken care of); Amell and Mouse spent their days doing research and at least one evening a month at some sort of social gathering; and Mouse spent most of his nights sneaking into the houses of the nobility to look for anything incriminating to spread about. It may have been repetitive, but it certainly wasn’t dull.

As they progressed across the country, their research continued to turn up things that could help but not permanently undo the effects of the Calling. Amell sent updates on her findings to Weisshaupt just before she left a city, hoping they might be able to make use of it. She also sent letters to her friends upon arriving in a new place, letting them know she was all right but not elaborating too much on the details of what was going on. She received letters in return, letting her know what was happening in other parts of Thedas. It was from them that she learned that Leliana had become an important figure within the Chantry, that Zevran was still “settling matters” with the Crows, and that a lot of her friends in Amaranthine were…gone. Neither Oghren or Howe could provide her with a lot of details—all they knew for sure was that Velanna disappeared when she claimed to have seen her sister in the Deep Roads, that Justice had abandoned Kristoff’s body, and that Anders had vanished after what sounded like a massively bloody fight that had involved both Wardens and Templars. It was disconcerting to hear, but since there was a possibility all three were alive, Amell tried not to dwell on it too much. She had to focus on the cure, after all.

Eventually, the group arrived at Minrathous. Amell had been expecting it to be the largest and grandest of all the cities, but instead, the place was showing its age. The buildings were falling apart; indeed, if it wasn’t for the magic she could sense emanating from the structures, they probably would have completely collapsed decades ago. There was also a lot more dirt and muck on the streets, and a seedy air that permeated the whole city, instead of only select areas. Nonetheless, the library was as vast as she’d been hoping, and as long as she and Mouse spent most of their day in there and then returned to their inn before sundown, she felt relatively safe. Mouse, on the other hand, seemed happy to venture out at night to cause a little trouble, though he always nodded when she asked him to be careful. Since he was always back in their room the next morning, it was safe to assume he was doing just that.

Despite the wealth of material at their disposal, Amell and Mouse still hadn’t come up with a definitive cure. They did, however, find stories buried in some ancient history books that suggested there might be herbs that could resist darkspawn corruption in the western regions of Thedas, as well as areas that had never suffered the Blight. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was something, and the two of them agreed that they would head west if they failed to find what they were looking for in Minrathous.

(It was also during their time in Minrathous that Amell stumbled across tales of the Rivaini, and their much more welcoming attitude towards spirits. Alas, her research wouldn’t be taking them in that direction, but one piece of information reminded her of a promise she’d made. She made up her mind then and there that it was high time she kept it. That night, she wrote letters to both Leliana and Zevran, figuring that if anyone could acquire what she was looking for, it was them. Leliana’s reply came two months later, regretfully saying that she currently didn’t have the resources or the contacts to get the item. A mere two weeks later, however, a small package arrived from Zevran. He explained it hadn’t been difficult to come up with an excuse to visit Rivain, as it bordered Antiva. Furthermore, he’d acquired the piece completely honestly, purchasing it outright. “It seems the nobility of the Wardens continues to impact me,” he wrote, “I’m not sure if I should thank you or curse you for it.” Amell laughed softly, then stored the small box in a deep corner of her pack for safekeeping, prepared to bring it out when the time was right.)

***

As Amell and Mouse were finishing up their research and starting to make plans to reach the western lands, Minrathous was suddenly filled with news and gossip about the goings-on in the rest of Thedas. Amell would have been inclined to ignore it, until she was told outright at one of her monthly forays into Tevinter society that the mages and Templars in the “less enlightened” regions were at war. After that, she started attending more parties and wrote letters to all her friends, trying to get the full story.

What she finally managed to piece together went thusly. There had been an incident in a town called Kirkwall, where a possessed mage (mostly referred to as “an abomination”) had used explosives, possibly enhanced by magic, to destroy the town’s chantry. The Knight-Commander of the Templars there had tried to massacre the entire Kirkwall Circle of Magi in retaliation, and the whole thing had ended with massive casualties on all sides, including civilians. The news had spread throughout the rest of Thedas, and other Circles had decided to use this as an inciting incident to gain their independence. Now the fighting had spread across most of the land, and though Leliana’s letter mentioned that the Divine was planning a peace talk, it was clear that the death toll was only going to mount. The Tevinters seemed amused by it all, glad that the mages were fighting for their freedom but mostly just relieved that the fight had no reason to spread to their lands. Their casual dismissal of so much innocent death infuriated Amell, and she tried to finish up her work as quickly as possible so she could leave Tevinter for good. Mouse didn’t say much one way or the other on the subject, but any Magister who said something particularly unkind would have some embarrassing secret revealed about them shortly thereafter.

Not wanting to get caught up in the war for a variety of reasons, Amell and Mouse decided that they would use the Imperial Highway to head back down through Tevinter, before crossing over into the Anderfels and stopping at Weisshaupt, which was surprisingly close to the border. That way, she could give her report to the First Warden in person, get more information about the war, and stock up on supplies before setting out for the West. With that settled, they packed their things, ingratiated themselves before the Magi council to thank them for all their help, and then left the city (the Mabari in tow, of course) at the first possible opportunity.

For a time, things were uneventful. Amell worried about what was going on in the rest of Thedas and about what they would find in the West, but as there wasn’t much she could do about either of those things at the moment, she tried not to dwell on it. Instead, she and Mouse spent their time talking about their research, trying to determine if some combination of the spells and techniques they’d found would be enough to stop the Calling. Some they could eliminate outright, others were inconclusive, but at least they were making things a little easier for the Wardens who would no doubt start trying to test out these cures while they were in the West.

When the group passed the city of Vol Dorma, they left the Highway and turned westward. A week or two of travel would, if Amell’s calculations were correct, take them straight to Weisshaupt. They would also be leaving Tevinter right in the middle of winter, and the whole team knew what that meant. Mouse just gave a resigned sigh and said he hoped he could at least make it a day or two before the symptoms struck. Amell chuckled sympathetically and rearranged some of the items in her pack in preparation for his impending illness.

At last, one afternoon, the three of them crossed over a small mountain range into the Anderfells. The change in temperature was immediate, and Mouse (who Amell had finally trusted with a pack of his own) threw on his cloak immediately. There was still enough sunlight to keep the area from being too cold, however, and Amell encouraged Mouse and the dog to move as quickly as possible, both to stay warm and to cover more ground before night fell. If they were lucky, they could reach Weisshaupt before Mouse fell ill, and then he could have a chance to get some rest in a proper bed before they braved the West.

It was well into late afternoon when the group came upon an odd sight. Most of the travellers they had encountered on the Imperial Highway were either merchants or noblemen, well-dressed and carrying themselves straight and tall, moving briskly and with purpose. This one, a man based on their build, was leaning heavily on a staff, wearing tattered clothes and muttering to himself. Despite looking very much the worse for wear, he continued to move forward, a sense of purpose radiating off him. Amell was curious how he could have come to this state and what his mission was, and since Grey Wardens aimed to help people…

“Ser?” she called out, withdrawing her staff just in case, “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

The man immediately straightened up and whipped around, and Amell’s eyes widened. Even through the matted beard and the tangled hair, she was able to recognize a fellow Warden. “Anders?” she said, shocked at his condition, “What happened to you?”

“YOU!” Amell involuntarily took a step back at the sound of Anders’ voice. Not just because of the volume or the anger in it, but because it didn’t sound like his voice. It was deeper, with a bit of a rasp to it, and it echoed slightly, like Mouse’s did. A moment later, she realized it sounded familiar too.

“Justice…?”

She had barely finished saying the name when Anders set upon her. Not with his staff, but with his bare hands. They wrapped around her throat, nails scraping her flesh, and she gasped from pain and lack of air. “It’s all because of you!” Anders—or was it Justice?—bellowed, tightening his grip, “If you hadn’t stepped down as Warden-Commander, the Templars wouldn’t have crept in among the order! I wouldn’t have been a wanted man! I would have been a hero, instead of reduced to this!”

His eyes went from brown to blue, the color quickly encompassing the entire socket. At the same time, tendrils of the same blue began to spread across his face and clothes, as though the blood in his veins had been lit with blue fire. Amell saw it all but barely registered it, as he applied still more pressure to her windpipe and her vision started to blur. She was vaguely aware of her dog barking, before abruptly yelping in pain and falling silent, but the only things she could really focus on was her lack of air and her fear.

Then a pulse rippled against her side, and Anders was blown backwards, releasing his hold on her. Amell collapsed to the ground, coughing, one hand on her throat as she tried to regain her breath. Looking up, she saw Anders get to his feet and pick up his staff, blue flame erupting from his hands and encircling his body. “So it’s you, is it, demon?” he said in Justice’s voice, “I should have known. Have you been ordered to protect your master whenever she’s in peril?”

“No,” Mouse replied, his voice ringing around the clearing even though he was speaking at a normal volume, “I’m just doing what makes sense. Protecting my party from a dangerous threat.”

Mouse finally entered Amell’s line of vision, and Amell received another shock. He was glowing gold, an aura surrounding him that made him look bigger than he actually was…and he had Amell’s staff in his hand. It must have fallen from her grasp when “Anders” had been choking her. Dimly, she felt as though she should call out, tell Mouse to stand down and demand answers from “Anders”, but it was as if she was rooted to the ground, her vocal chords paralyzed from pain and astonishment. She looked for signs of glyphs around her, and found none. It seemed that a higher power had decreed that she would merely observe what happened instead of being an active participant.

“Anders” let out a curt laugh. “A threat, perhaps. But only to those who wrong me.”

“And how have we wronged you? We parted on good terms, even considering your dislike of me, and we haven’t spoken in years. What could we have possibly done to earn your wrath?”

“You left!” “Anders” growled, “You left the Wardens when they were still rebuilding, gave the Templars an opportunity to move in to reclaim Anders. He had agreed to take in Justice out of kindness, and then, when the connection was still new, the Templars struck. If they had come later, or not been allowed to come at all…perhaps things would have been different. Instead, they were slaughtered, along with several Wardens. I had no choice but to flee to Kirkwall, and from there, my fate was sealed.”

“You’re the abomination that started the war.” Mouse said, a note of surprise mixed in with his warning tone.

“It was the only way to get results!” “Anders” insisted, “The only way to ensure mages would be freed. It’s what Anders and Justice both wanted!”

“You speak of them in the past tense,” Mouse said, “What inhabits this body now?”

“The perfect amalgamation of them. I am Vengeance. And now that my primary goal has been achieved, I will dedicate my life to getting vengeance on those who wronged who I once was. The Templars in the Ferelden circle…the lingering demons in Blackmarsh…even those who ever brought harm to Kristoff. My first target was Weisshaupt, to punish the First Warden for allowing Anders and Justice to be attacked. But it seems the Maker has decided that you and our former Warden-Commander will be first.”

Mouse adjusted the staff and pointed it directly at Vengeance. “I’d like to see you try.”

“With pleasure, demon!” Vengeance responded, before sending a jet of blue fire at Mouse. Mouse waved his free hand and curved the fire away from him. Then he briefly pointed the staff at Amell, and she saw red streaks of light surrounding her, a sign that he had cast Force Field on her. Now she really was paralyzed, but she couldn’t be hurt, either. Although none of her limbs could move, her eyes still worked, and she was able to watch what unfolded.

Mouse twirled the staff, then pointed it at Vengeance and fired another spell. Vengeance immediately tensed up, growling in pain, and Amell recognized the effects of Crushing Prison. With him temporarily immobilized, Mouse moved a little closer, looking Vengeance up and down. “You fucking hypocrite,” he spat, voice laden with contempt, “All those years, the two of you threw insults at me, cast aspersions on your commander for binding me. And yet the ‘superior’ spirit goes ahead and joins with the mage who ‘knew better’.”

“My intentions…were good. Yours…were not.” Vengeance managed to hiss out through the pain.

“Were they? Were they really?” Mouse said with angry sarcasm, “Because I’ve never possessed a living body. And I’ve never blown up a building full of innocent people.”

Vengeance twisted, breaking out of the spell’s hold. Mouse saw it and dove out of the way as Vengeance shot another jet of fire at him. “They weren’t innocent!” Vengeance said, “The Chantry is the force that insists mages be kept in line! The one who trains Templars to guard us! Everyone who serves that blighted place has blood on their hands!”

From the ground, Mouse struck Vengeance with another spell, Vengeance’s body taking on a purple tinge as the red from the spell mixed with his blue flames. “And what of the supplicants who were in there to pray?” Mouse asked as he rolled to the side and pushed himself back to his feet, “Or the people who were crushed by falling debris? Or the countless civilians and mages who are now dying in the war started by your actions? If anyone needs to be killed to achieve vengeance, it’s you.”

Vengeance snarled in rage and sent a Stonefist at Mouse, catching him in the chest. Mouse staggered back a few steps, then shook his head, found his footing, and hit Vengeance with a Cone of Cold. Vengeance was once again frozen in place, and Mouse took advantage of the brief respite to move a few steps away before sending out a Stonefist of his own, followed by a paralysis glyph. “How are you even still alive?” Mouse said, “The people of Kirkwall should have torn you to shreds for what you did.”

“There were some who believed in my cause,” Vengeance answered, haughtily proud, “They covered for my escape.”

“More fools they,” Mouse said, “I wonder if they’re regretting that decision now that most of Thedas is in chaos.”

Vengeance dispelled the glyph and sent a bolt of lightning in Mouse’s direction. Mouse moved out of the way, and though the bolt grazed his side, he seemed unperturbed, his attention still focused on Vengeance. “Do you truly want justice or vengeance? Turn yourself in. Maybe that will bring the worst of the fighting to an end and allow the Mages and Templars to come to an agreement.”

“No agreements!” Vengeance said, “No compromise! Mages must be entirely free, or all of this will have been for nothing!”

Mouse looked him over for a moment, poised on the balls of his feet in case he needed to retreat. Then he said, “Then the only way to stop you is to kill you?”

“I won’t let that happen!” Vengeance said, “There’s so much more I have to do! And I won’t let anyone stop me, especially you!”

With that, he sent a pulse of energy Mouse’s way, and even from her position, Amell recognized the sight and feel of it as a spell meant to drain an enemy of their mana. The spell connected, and she felt a brief flicker of panic. She had the pack containing the lyrium potions; would Mouse be able to get to her, dispell the force field, and find and drink a potion before Vengeance struck him down? Or would Vengeance make good on his threat?

Mouse paused again once the spell hit him, flexing his free hand experimentally. Then he dropped the staff and lowered his hands to the side, closing his eyes. It looked for all the world like he was waiting for the killing blow, and Amell’s fear increased. She wanted to shout at him to keep fighting, but was unable to do so. Vengeance, meanwhile, bared his teeth in a feral grin and moved forward, apparently wanting to make absolutely sure his spell hit true.

But then the glow around Mouse’s body brightened still further, and when his eyes abruptly snapped open, they were bright white and visible from where Amell was kneeling. Then he bent his knees slightly and jumped into the air. Instead of immediately landing back on the ground, he lifted his hands slowly upwards, and his body followed suit, until he was hovering at least twenty feet in the air. Vengeance stopped in his tracks and stared up at Mouse in shock, and in this case, Amell was in complete agreement with him. “What…how are you…how could you possibly…” Vengeance spluttered.

“I was a demon, once,” Mouse replied, the glow around his body not only growing brighter, but now starting to ripple and change, “Just like you were a simple spirit of justice. But time and circumstances changed me as well as you. You may have become a spirit of vengeance…but I have the essence of an Old God. And it’s high time I put that to good use.”

He spread his arms wide, and still more golden light burst from him, augmenting his aura. For just a few moments, he was surrounded by a corona of light that Amell could have sworn was in the shape of a dragon. Then he thrust his hands forward, and an enormous beam of white light shot from his palms and moved right towards Vengeance. The light quickly engulfed him, hiding him from view, but Amell could hear a piercing scream of anger and pain. It was only when the scream stopped echoing around the clearing that the light abated. As Amell’s eyes adjusted, she saw the charred remains of what had once been her friend hit the ground. Moments later, the sight was obscured once more as Mouse gracefully touched down in front of the body. His glow was gradually fading, and Amell followed his movements, still trying to make sense of everything she’d seen. By the time he’d retrieved her staff and was making his way over to her, the glow had faded entirely, leaving him looking like a normal human again. If it wasn’t for a smell of ash in the air, one would have thought nothing had happened at all.

Mouse flicked the staff, dispelling the Force Field spell, then crouched beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, setting the staff by her side. Not waiting for an answer, he gently pulled her hand away from her neck and grimaced. “His nails drew blood. Not enough to do any serious damage, but we should still apply a poultice.” Even as he said it, he reached over and drew one out of Amell’s pack, undoing the wrapping.

“The…the dog?” Amell asked weakly. Her shock over everything still had yet to fully abate, and taking stock of her items and party members was the only thing that made any sort of concrete sense to her at the moment.

“Vengeance knocked him unconscious while he was choking you. I didn’t have time to examine him. Give me a moment.”

Mouse smeared the herbs across Amell’s throat, then pressed her hand against them to hold them in place while he stood up and disappeared from view. He was back just a minute later. “The Mabari will be fine. Just a crack on the head. You might want to use an injury kit just in case, but otherwise…”

Amell nodded faintly and reached into her pack for a kit, her movements more automatic than borne out of conscious thought. As she started to push herself to her feet to tend to her dog, she was able to see over the top of Mouse’s shoulder, and she could see Vengeance’s body again. This time, her mind fully registered what it was, and suddenly the world came back into focus, the whole conversation between Vengeance and Mouse taking on proper context. The various revelations hit her like a Stonefist, and her legs buckled, sending her back to the ground. Mouse immediately reached out and grasped her shoulder to steady her. “Are you all right?” he said again, “Did he hit you with some other spell before I got to you?”

She shook her head, but as she stopped the motion, she felt the rest of her body start to shake instead. All the shock had finally worn off, and there was only one thing Amell could think to do in response.

She cried.

Sobs were wrenched out of her throat, with her making no attempt to quiet them. The tears poured from her eyes, obscuring her vision again, which was actually a relief; she didn’t want to have to see Anders’ body, or the look on Mouse’s face. She knew she looked like an undignified mess, but at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She had no idea how long she stayed like that, though it felt like it went on for hours. She was aware of nothing but her inner pain and the tears on her cheeks. Finally, however, she started to regain feeling in the rest of her body. She could feel small rocks poking into her legs, and cool wind against her exposed skin. Above all, she felt a hand against her shoulder, though the touch was so light that it wasn’t too surprising that she hadn’t noticed it. As her sobbing reached a temporary lull, Mouse spoke, his voice hesitant and almost fearful. “Are you…all right?” he asked for the third time.

Amell swallowed and shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me,” she clarified between shaky breaths, “But…what he said…what he did…”

She wiped her eyes and looked at Mouse for the first time. He was looking at her with the wary expression the Templars had in the Circle, though unlike them, his eyes weren’t full of suspicion. If anything, he seemed confused, as if he had no idea how to handle someone having an emotional breakdown. Given what had just happened, it would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so bleak. She let out a giggle that was on the edge of hysterical, then took another shaky breath and finally managed to voice the thought that was uppermost in her mind.

“Was he right, Mouse? Did I cause this by leaving?”

“No,” Mouse said immediately, “I fail to see why you would even think that.”

“He said things changed after I left. Maybe…maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe this war wouldn’t…”

“Stop,” Mouse said, his hand now more firmly pressed on her shoulder, “Keep that up and you’ll blame yourself for everything that’s happened since the Blight. You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that.”

“Two Wardens are dead!” Amell shot back, more tears blurring her vision, “Two beings I considered friends! Two beings who wouldn’t have even been Wardens if it wasn’t for me!”

Mouse’s hand moved to rest gingerly against her back. “Justice did not cross the veil specifically because of you. And if you hadn’t brought Anders into the Wardens, I’m sure the Templars would have increased their punishments for his escapes until they finally decided it was easier to kill him. If anything, you saved his life.”

“But he…”

Mouse spoke over her smoothly. “We don’t know exactly how it came about that he merged with Justice, but you never put that idea in either of their heads. They chose to do it without your influence, sometime after you left. Whatever happened to them after that was because of their own decisions. From what we’ve heard, it’s unlikely that Vengeance used his Warden abilities to destroy the Kirkwall Chantry, so you can’t be held responsible for that either. And for all we know, war between the mages and Templars could have broken out with some other catalyst. I don’t see anything in this whole mess that could be laid at your feet.”

Amell heard a concerned whine, and glanced down to see her Mabari moving to sit beside her, resting his head on her lap. She stroked his head and started to apply the injury kit, grateful for the distraction. Mouse waited a moment, then resumed speaking.

“The only thing we don’t know for certain is if you could have prevented Templars from joining the Wardens and going after Anders. In the first place, we only have Vengeance’s word on what happened, and I think we can agree that he was…unreliable. And secondly, I doubt they were blatant about their intentions. They may have hidden what they were when they asked to join, or claimed they felt serving the Wardens was more important than being a Templar. Perhaps you would have seen through it, perhaps not; you and I aren’t infallible, loath as I am to admit it.”

Amell managed a weak laugh at that, and Mouse’s hand pressed against her back encouragingly as he continued. “It’s also possible that they would have decided to come after you too, for keeping me around. We could have wound up on the run ourselves, though hopefully with less disastrous results. We’ll never know for sure, but there’s no reason to assume the worst.”

Amell took a deep breath and nodded, her free hand coming up to wipe at her eyes. “I suppose not. Even so, he—they—were my friends and my responsibility once. There’s always going to be a part of me that feels a little guilty. It’s just the way we mortals are.”

“Then that’s one aspect of humanity I would prefer not to experience,” Mouse said, “Better to accept what happened and move on.” Amell shook her head slightly; it was moments like this that really brought home that Mouse would probably always be somewhat separated from the mortal experience. Mouse either didn’t notice or ignored the gesture, looking up at the sky instead. “The sun’s starting to go down. We should try to go another mile or two before making camp.”

Amell picked up her staff and pushed herself to her feet, the dog obligingly stepping back while Mouse rose with her, hand still on her back to keep her from falling. This time, she averted her eyes from where Vengeance lay, but she couldn’t ignore it entirely. “What do we do about…?”

“We leave it. If you still feel you need to atone somehow, you can tell the First Warden what happened and the general location of the body. I suppose they should know anyway, if only to be assured that the cause of the current war is dead. Let them decide if they want to give him a proper funeral. He’s in their territory, after all.”

Mouse’s words were more clinical than comforting, but it seemed reasonable enough. “All right,” she said, her voice a little hoarse from crying, “Let’s get moving.”

The three of them walked on in silence, knowing better than to discuss the matter further. If Amell kept her staff out and leant on it a little, Mouse felt no need to comment. If the Mabari chose to walk close enough to Amell to nudge or lick her hand every thirty paces, that was his choice. And if Mouse shifted position such that part of his cloak was draped around Amell as well, even though she didn’t need the extra warmth and that arrangement increased his exposure to the cold air, it wasn’t worth bringing up. It may have been appreciated, but it didn’t need to be addressed.

***

Next time: The party heads West, and quite possibly finds what they're looking for. But there's only one way to know for sure...

[Wig_Powder]

Slight warning: One paragraph contains some light SPOILERS for Dragon Age: Inquisition. Said paragraph is, however, bracketed by parentheses, so it should be easy to identify and skip if you're so inclined.

Chapter 19

The remainder of the trip to Weisshaupt was uneventful, but very subdued. While Amell and Mouse didn’t talk about what had happened and tried to focus their attention on devising a cure, the memories would always come creeping back the minute Amell was no longer distracted. She also had nightmares about the encounter with Vengeance every night, which only made her all the more aware of the possibility of failing to find a cure. Every night, she wondered if the dreams would shift into dreams of darkspawn or an Archdemon, or if she’d start hearing whispers no one else could, the first signs of the Calling. While there was currently no indication that was the case, it didn’t make for particularly pleasant evenings, and she definitely wasn’t getting a full night’s sleep.

It was actually somewhat of a relief when Mouse inevitably fell ill. They went back to the old routine of having him turn into a mouse and stay in his pouch for the duration, and having him sneezing and complaining (though Amell did acknowledge that he did probably feel worse than usual, since it had been so long since he’d been sick) kept the memories from occupying her thoughts. Mouse also insisted she keep his pouch by her side while she slept so he could take advantage of her body heat, which wound up being useful for Amell as well. When the nightmares woke her up, she found it a little easier to get back to sleep if she rested her hand on the pouch and tried to concentrate on its steady quivering and the sound of Mouse’s congested breathing instead of dwelling on her nightmare. She knew the encounter with Vengeance would haunt her for a long time to come, but little distractions like that were starting to make it easier to bear.

After ten days, the small group arrived at Weisshaupt, and Amell asked Mouse to return to his human form. She wasn’t sure how many of the Wardens knew about her bond with Mouse, not to mention his abilities, so it was easier to just pass him off as a human companion of hers. He wasn’t thrilled to be more exposed to the cold, but was mollified by the assurance that they wouldn’t be moving on until he was well, and he’d be allowed to go straight to bed once they were given rooms. Indeed, Amell asked if he and her Mabari could be taken to their rooms to rest from the journey while she reported in to the First Warden, which the Wardens obliged her on. She saw Mouse give her a grateful smile over his shoulder as he moved away, which buoyed her up a little as she moved towards the First Warden’s office.

The First Warden took the news about Anders and Justice surprisingly calmly. Maybe it was because they hadn’t succeeded in attacking Weisshaupt, or because the two of them had been written off as lost causes after they disappeared, but he thanked her for dealing with the situation and said he’d get the news out that one of the causes of the current war was dead. He gave no indication of whether or not the body would get a proper burial, and Amell didn’t know if she should (or even wanted to) say something. She just stayed silent on the matter and felt stabs of both guilt and relief when the topic shifted to her plans for going West.

The next week was spent replenishing supplies, talking with other Wardens about the viability of the various spells and potions she’d come across in her research, and looking through the Weisshaupt library for any mention of the West. She had some help with that last one; not only did the other Wardens obligingly flip through some of the books so she wouldn’t have to go through the whole library herself, but she brought books with potential to Mouse’s room every evening, both to lighten her workload and to give him something to do. None of the books turned up much of anything helpful, but Mouse appreciated the gesture, and it was a double source of distraction for Amell, which she was more than happy with.

The evening studies with Mouse also all but confirmed something Amell had suspected ever since Mouse had sneezed in the Ventus library. Mouse’s sneezes were still small, despite having spent long stretches of time in his human form. While she doubted she’d ever be able to prove it, she suspected that having been forced into his mouse form immediately after changing his essence (that was what absorbing the power of the Archdemon had been, after all) and then being kept in that form for years had affected the way he sneezed. It was possible it had affected other things too, but since he didn’t have the same needs as humans, it was hard to tell for sure. There was also a chance things would change over time, but for now, his sneezes would remain tiny. When she posed this theory to Mouse, he nodded and then shrugged. “It makes sense, though I don’t think it matters much. In fact, it’s actually more of a benefit. It means I draw less attention to myself, and perhaps takes longer for a handkerchief to become unusable.” Even as he finished saying it, his eyes fluttered closed and he brought his current handkerchief to his face. “Itshh! Ektshh!” Amell, amused, shook her head and returned to her reading.

At last, Mouse said he felt well enough to travel, and he, Amell, and the Mabari set out across the Anderfels, heading for the West. Fortunately for Mouse, the region was known more for windstorms than snow, so he was unlikely to fall ill again that winter. Though of course, it all depended on what they found when they crossed into uncharted territory.

It took them several months to transverse the Anderfels, at which point they were confronted by a wide expanse of jungles known as the Donarks. No one had ever mapped out the area, and there was very little information on what was inside. There was every possibility that this little expedition would vanish, never to be heard from again. But Amell hadn’t come this far to give up now. If she died trying to save the Wardens, so be it.

She glanced down at her dog, who wagged his tail and gave an encouraging bark. Then she looked over at Mouse. He met her gaze and nodded. “It’s a learning experience few have ever encountered. That alone seems like a good enough reason to try.”

That got Amell to chuckle, and she nodded back. “All right then. Let’s go.”

And with that, she adjusted her pack and led the way into the jungles.

***

Much like extended time in the Deep Roads or the Fade, Amell lost all track of time. The trees were thick enough to block out the sky, but a dim light emanated from somewhere at all times, so they weren’t completely in the dark. Nevertheless, Mouse took to using his spirit form to light the way as they travelled, and they lit fires at night to keep creatures away. The temperature was always humid, even when it rained (which happened fairly regularly), which left Amell sweating and her Mabari panting. Mouse was the only one who seemed unaffected by it, but even if he was, Amell doubted he’d be inclined to complain. After all, temperatures like this reduced the odds of his falling ill.

Most of their days followed the same routine. The three of them would walk in a chosen direction, looking for anything interesting, be it signs of life or unfamiliar plants. If they did spot something, they would change course and travel in that direction in hopes of seeing more of it. When Amell and her dog were too tired to continue, they would stop and make camp, Mouse always taking the first watch. During Amell’s watch, she would spend her time trying her best to map out the ground they’d covered, as well as writing in a journal about what they’d seen. With luck, this could be used for future expeditions even if they failed.

When there were breaks in the routine, they were generally pretty big ones. Most of the animals they encountered were variations of creatures they’d seen before, who either fled or attacked (and were easy enough to dispatch), but occasionally, they ran into something a little more intimidating. Once it was a beast that had all the earmarks of a dragon, except there was no indication it had ever had wings. While that did mean they didn’t have to deal with aerial attacks, it was still just as tough to fight as any other dragon, and it was only the combination of Amell’s various paralyzing spells and Mouse’s spirit abilities that allowed them to win the day. Another time, it was a creature that seemed to be an amalgamation of other animals; its tail was a serpent, its body was almost horse-like, it had a pair of eagle wings, and the head appeared to be that of a lion. That one was a slightly less difficult fight, though her dog got a good kick in the ribs and Amell needed to rest for three days thanks to the snake sinking its fangs into her arm and injecting her with a good dose of venom. Mouse, of course, walked away unscathed, though he did at least have the decency not to gloat about it.

Sometimes, they would spend an extra day at camp to investigate the plants and other samples they’d gathered. While the dog went out to hunt for edible plants, animals, or water sources, Amell and Mouse would use the notes they’d amassed over the years and the occasional bit of magic to try to determine if the items had any medicinal or other useful value. Some they discarded, some they figured out were helpful, but most were labeled “inconclusive” and kept around just in case. Amell wrote down whatever they did find out, however, again for the sake of future expeditions. Even if they couldn’t figure it out, someone else might.

After what must have been at least several months of wandering around mostly blindly, they had a stroke of luck. They caught the faint sound of music and followed the sound, coming across a large village. Mouse immediately shifted back into his human form, and the three of them approached cautiously, hands raised to indicate as best they could that their intentions were peaceful. Their appearance still caused a commotion, and they were soon surrounded by the natives, who peered at them suspiciously. Amell tried telling them she meant them no harm in both the common tongue and Tevene, but her words didn’t seem to register with them; they just pointed weapons at her and said things she couldn’t understand. Just as she was starting to worry they were about to die, Mouse spoke up next to her.

“Wimyn eio hipyn. Oe xik midzeen.”

That gave the group pause. One of the older women stepped a little closer and said something to Mouse. Mouse nodded and replied “Zumuot. Evogh tyu kumovikat.” The words made no sense to Amell, but it must have meant something to the woman, because she nodded and signaled for the others to lower their weapons. Then she pointed at Mouse and spoke to him, gesturing briefly to the jungle surrounding them. Mouse listened, then nodded when she stopped talking. “Indurzud.”

And with that, everyone stepped away, forming a path to the north of the settlement. Mouse nodded at all of them and started moving down the path. “What just happened?” Amell demanded, even as she obligingly followed behind him.

“We can set up camp some distance away from here, and then return. With luck, I’ll be able to explain our cause a little better, and then they can assist us.”

“How were you able to talk to them? Do they…do they speak in a Fade language?”

“Not exactly,” Mouse said, “But it’s clearly derived from there, since there are a lot of similarities.”

“How??” Amell said, unable to articulate herself any better than that. Fortunately, Mouse must have grasped her meaning.

“The Chantry says spirits were the first things the Maker created. Who’s to say that when He created humans, He didn’t reuse the spirit language?”

“I suppose that’s a possibility…” Amell said, “All I know for sure is that you’re going to have to start teaching it to me, or at least writing down basic structures of the language. If others come this way, they’re going to need to know how to communicate.”

Mouse smiled. “Gladly. On both counts.”

Once Mouse declared they were a safe distance away, they set up their camp, Mouse introducing Amell to the basics of the Fade language. After casting a few protective spells around the tents, the two of them headed right back for the settlement, the dog on their heels. Amell let Mouse be the first one to enter, hands raised and presumably reminding them of his and Amell’s peaceful intentions. His point must have come across, because they were immediately led to one of the lean-tos. Once someone pointed at the opening, the three of them promptly entered.

What followed was a very long conversation between Mouse and the woman he’d first spoken with, while Amell awkwardly sat next to him and tried to figure out based solely on body language what was being said. All she knew for sure was that nobody seemed particularly hostile, and that Mouse kept gesturing to her. She did her best to keep her expression neutral and not to shift around too much, but the longer he talked, the more nervous she became. She had a lot of evidence that Mouse was a spirit and not just putting on an act to let her guard down, but moments like this heightened her paranoia in that department.

At last, Mouse nodded and turned to Amell. “Provider Wanugi is willing to assist us. She and her people will help us identify the samples we’ve collected, and provide us with the healing herbs and spells that they use. In return, we need to help them with their hunts, teach them our own healing techniques, and spend the night in our own camp until we’ve gained their trust further.”

Amell nodded, stunned at the generosity. “How do I…?”

Mouse smiled. “Oanx se.”

Amell turned to Wanugi and bent her body in a seated bow. “Oanx se.”

Wanugi waved a hand before gesturing to the entrance to the lean-to and saying something. Interpreting it as some sort of “You’re welcome”, Amell allowed Mouse to leave first before following suit. Clearly, he’d be the one in charge here, at least for now.

As soon as they were out of the village and heading to their camp, Amell moved to walk beside Mouse. “Oanx se to you too. I don’t think I could have done this without you.”

Mouse smiled. “Mae Phlizor. I presume I’ll be spending the evening teaching you my language?”

“For as long as I’m alert enough to follow along.” Amell confirmed.

Mouse chuckled. “I probably shouldn’t be giving you this information. A mage who knows the language of the Fade could be a dangerous thing, both to demons and to the Chantry. But then again, I’m not about to turn away someone who wants to learn.”

Amell grinned. “Then start your second lesson, Professor.”

***

Amell couldn’t say the next few weeks(?) were routine, but they did follow a pattern. When they arrived at the settlement after waking, they would almost immediately be sent out with a group, either to patrol the area for danger or to hunt for food. They encountered a few more of the dragons and amalgamations that way, but by working with their new allies (who called themselves the Chizoba), the fights were much shorter and less dangerous. Upon returning, she and Mouse were ushered into a lean-to (the dog stayed outside, where he stood watch) where the medical lessons began. One day, it would be Amell demonstrating (and Mouse translating) how to create poultices or cast spells, and the next day the Chizoban healers would return the favor. In the evenings (or what she assumed were evenings), she, Mouse, and the dog would return to their camp, where they would practice the Fade language, Amell eventually deciding to call it Fadese for simplicity’s sake. While there was always the concern in the back of her mind that something would go wrong, she had to admit that she was fascinated by all that she was learning. If she didn’t have a larger goal to be working towards, she’d have been content to stay here until she’d learned everything about the Chizoba.

Over time, the Chizoba warmed up to them. Instead of keeping watch, the Mabari could often be found playing with the village children when Amell and Mouse emerged from the medical lean-to. Instead of returning to their camp to eat, they were allowed to stay and eat with the Chizoba, which gave Amell a chance both to learn more about their culture and to try to practice the language. Amell was even allowed to treat minor wounds with whatever technique seemed best for the situation, as long as she was monitored by one of the healers. Whenever she got a chance, Amell recorded everything in her notebooks, hoping that it could be used to open some sort of diplomatic relations when she returned to Thedas.

(As it turned out, while she was mostly cut off from the outside world, she did get one surprising visit from it. A raven flew into their camp when she and her party returned one evening, a scroll tied to its leg. The raven was from Leliana, who reported that the peace talks between the Mages and Templars had somehow led to yet another crisis, involving a glowing rip in the sky, an ancient Tevinter magister, and various kinds of corruption. A new group called the Inquisition had been formed, and Leliana was its spymaster. Apparently this magister had made all the Grey Wardens in the region start to feel the effects of the Calling, and Leliana was using her resources to find Amell both to check in and to see if Amell had any advice. Amell assured her she hadn’t been affected by the false Calling, but didn’t have much else to offer. She did, however, send back an enchanted belt enhanced by some of the new spells she’d learned, hoping it would be of use to them. As the raven flew off, she wondered if she’d return to Thedas only to have to jump right back into the fray. Much as she’d enjoy having another accolade to her name, she felt like she deserved at least a one month break.)

In-between all this, Amell and Mouse made sure to consider the new techniques they were learning, trying to determine if they’d be able to use them to prevent the Calling. They all showed a lot of promise, but nothing looked like a true cure, only a way to extend Warden lifespans by another decade or so. It was something, to be sure, but Amell felt like they could do better.

Then, one day, she, Mouse, and healer Gojko were experimenting by combining healing herbs when there was a commotion outside. Amell tensed immediately before she registered that the voices were excited instead of angry, and immediately exited the lean-to. A crowd had gathered around a second group, who were triumphantly holding up a sack. As Amell watched, Wanugi approached the group, took the pouch, and touched their foreheads in what Amell had learned was a gesture of honor. As the group was led away by the others, Wanugi came to the medical lean-to and presented the sack to Amell. “«What’s this?»” Amell asked in Fadese.

“«What you have been seeking, hopefully»,” Wanugi answered, “«This is raceme, our rarest but most powerful healing herb. It is only used when all other cures have failed.»”

“«Why is that?»” Amell asked, nervousness intertwining with hope in her chest.

“«Two very simple reasons. First, it grows in a particularly dangerous set of conditions, so we only have a limited supply at hand. And second, if we used it for all ailments, it would lose its effectiveness for when we really needed it. Better to save it for the worst cases. From what you and Mouse have said, however, this Calling qualifies as a worst case.»”

Amell opened the sack. It was full to bursting with dark green leaves , with what almost looked like a streak of silver running down the middle of them. She looked back up at Wanugi in amazement. “«Did they pick all of these for me?»”

“«No,»” Wanugi said, though she tempered the word with a soft tone, “«We will keep half of them for ourselves. However, you may take the rest back to your Wardens, should they be effective.»”

Amell immediately crossed her arms and touched the points of her collarbone. “Oanx se. «You may have saved us all.»”

 Wanugi held up her hand. “«I cannot simply give these to you. They are too valuable a resource, and my foragers went through much to bring these back. Before you can take them, we must be sure that they work.»”

Amell’s heart slammed into her ribs. With that restriction, there was only one way to find out if the raceme worked; she’d have to test it on herself. But there was no telling how things would play out. While she could hope for the best case scenario, there was every possibility that there would be no obvious effect, or have some sort of adverse reaction up to and including death. However, she didn’t see any other alternatives.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “«I understand. How do you use the raceme?»”

“«A leaf is chopped up and boiled in water. While it is still hot, though cool enough to drink, you must swallow the entire cup’s worth.»”

“«Very well,»” Amell said, “«I must make preparations. Tomorrow, we can make the cure.»”

Wanugi nodded back. “«Of course. Return to your camp.»”

Amell handed back the sack and began to head out of the village, Mouse and the Mabari quickly falling in behind her. “It’s really happening, isn’t it,” Mouse said, the words coming out as a statement rather than a question, “This is the key moment, the event that either extends or concludes your legacy. Are you nervous?”

“Terrified,” Amell said, “But I’ll try to face it the way I was prepared to face the Archdemon.”

“I’m sorry I can’t take the blow for you this time.” Mouse said.

Amell shook her head. “I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn’t have let you even if you could. You’ve done too much for me already. Besides, I refuse to have to go through the process of un-corrupting you a third time.”

Mouse chuckled faintly, though it sounded a little strained. “I suppose I’m thankful for that.”

They reached their camp, where Amell dispelled the protective measures. Then she turned and looked Mouse square in the face. “I have an order for you, Mouse. If the raceme doesn’t work, or if it cures the Calling but kills me in the process, you’re to return to Weisshaupt and give them my notes and everything we’ve found here that might be of use to them. After that, you’ll obviously be free to do as you wish and go where you like, but I’m hoping the binding spell will still extend to any order given before my death.”

Mouse nodded. “Even if it isn’t, I’ll carry it out anyway. It seems the least I can do.” Amell didn’t know if he’d feel the same way once he was actually freed, but she appreciated the gesture. Nodding at him, she sat down on a stone and pulled out her notebook, starting to write.

She spent the rest of the day writing in the notebook. First, she detailed everything she could think of that might be of use to the Wardens or to anyone wishing to explore the Donarks. Then, she wrote goodbyes to everyone, to be sent to the relevant parties after Mouse brought the notebook back to Weisshaupt. Finally, she wrote down a final message for Mouse, which she tore out of her notebook, folded into quarters, and slipped into the twine of the package Zevran had sent her from Rivain. She then put the package closer to the top of her pack, where Mouse would be sure to see it. Assuming he didn’t just drop everything to enjoy his freedom, it would hopefully give him the extra impetus to carry out her last requests.

***

The next day, Amell, Mouse, and the dog walked into the Chizoba village, but instead of joining with a hunting party, they made their way to the medical lean-to. Stopping just outside the entrance, Amell knelt down and gave her Mabari a hug. “Be a good boy,” she murmured, “And look out for Mouse for me. Spirit or not, he could use some company on the way back to Thedas.” The Mabari whined and nudged her cheek with his nose, but clearly understood all the hidden nuance in her statement. Patting his head, Amell stood up and entered the lean-to.

Wanugi and Gojko were waiting for her, a metal goblet already suspended over a small fire. “«It is almost ready,»” Wanugi said, “«Are you?»”

Amell nodded, set her pack down, and turned to Mouse. “I…” she began, then stopped and laughed weakly, “Funny, I’m not sure what to say.”

Mouse took her hand and pressed it. “Don’t say anything. You can say it once this is over and you’ve found the words.”

Amell nodded. “And if I can’t find them?”

“I’ll find them for you.”

“«Warden?»” Gojko said, “«The raceme should be cool in one minute.»”

Amell released Mouse’s hand and turned away, knowing she had to focus solely on the task at hand if she wanted to get through it. She and the others watched the goblet resting on the table, until Gojko poked it with a finger and nodded. Amell immediately reached out and picked it up. She almost wanted to make a toast, but her nerves and the hot metal in her hands was enough to dissuade her. Instead, she closed her eyes and drank as much as she could in one go. She paused once for breath, then finished it off. To her slight relief, the taste wasn’t foul, as the Joining drink was. There was a tang to it, almost spicy, and put her in mind of the exotic fruits she’d eaten at some of the Tevinter parties. Well, at least it’s a final pleasant experience, she thought, And there’d be a certain poetry to having the Warden end be so similar yet different to its beginning.

That was the last coherent thought she remembered having.

***

Pain, like fire licking at her insides. It pulsed through her body, causing her back to arch and arms to lash out. But no matter how she moved, the heat never seemed to fade.

A buzzing in her ears, almost sounding like the murmurs of darkspawn. But this seemed more like screaming. She couldn’t tell if it was in her head or if she was just hearing herself.

Dampness all around her, hot and sticky instead of cooling.

Swirling colors, a mass of green and brown, with occasional flashes of black or red.

Occasionally, a faint howl in the distance. A howl of anguish that matched how she felt.

Smells of earth and rain mixing with the strong scent of blood and sweat.

Intermittent pressure on her skin. Sometimes on her head, sometimes her shoulders. She would struggle, and the pressure would ease but remain. Not a threat, but also not appreciated.

Snatches of memories. Jowan, palm streaked with blood. Anders, eyes filling with blue sparks. The Archdemon shrieking. The Architect forcing her to sleep. A pride demon, surrounded by golden flame.

Amell’s eyes snapped open. The light was dim, and she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to it. For the first time in a long while, things were…quiet. She could hear talking and faint music somewhere nearby, but the constant buzzing was gone.

She moved an arm and leg tentatively, taking stock of herself. She felt weak—her limbs trembled noticeably—but it was discomfort rather than true pain. She was lying on something relatively soft, and there was cloth over most of her body, a blanket of some kind. She felt hot, but it was the heat she’d grown accustomed to here in the Donarks. Her throat was dry, her head ached dully, and her stomach seemed to simultaneously desire and reject the idea of food. None of this was telling her if the raceme had removed the darkspawn corruption from her, but it did highlight one important thing; she was alive.

Bracing herself, she pushed herself into a sitting position, only for the world to spin around her. She gasped and put a hand to her head, only for the gasp to catch in her throat and turn into a series of coughs. Immediately, a hand was on her shoulder, and she could hear the rustle of cloth. “Steady…Gojko’s gone to get you some water.”

Amell managed to swallow, the coughing passing for the moment. “Mouse.” she said, making sure her senses weren’t playing tricks on her.

“Yes,” Mouse said, lightly rubbing her shoulder, “The Mabari’s outside. He’ll be elated to hear that you’ve come to.”

 “The…raceme….” Amell said slowly, not wanting to cough again. “Did…it…?”

Mouse’s tone registered before the word did, the smile and relief obvious even in that one syllable. “Yes.”

Despite it being the news she’d desperately wanted to hear, Amell couldn’t bring herself to feel excited. She wasn’t sure if she was too drained to fully appreciate it, or if it was due to lingering uncertainty. “How…do…you…know?”

“The fact that you sweated red-black blood for three days straight was the first clue,” Mouse replied, “The second was that Gojko and Wanugi both examined you yesterday and said they weren’t seeing any traces of corruption. And most importantly, even though I’ve lost most of the Archdemon’s bad qualities, there’s still a bit of the Blight in me. I can sense darkspawn and their decay, much like you Wardens. But I can’t sense it in you anymore.”

Amell felt something on her cheeks, and it took her a moment to realize she was crying. “Then…I’m…free.”

“Assuming you can regain your strength, yes. But now that you’re truly concious, I have no doubt you’ll do so.”

The cloth rustled again, and Gojko appeared in front of her, holding another cup, this one made of wood. Mouse’s other hand took it from him and brought it to Amell’s lips. She sipped carefully, instinctively knowing to take it slow. While it felt cool and soothing, the act of swallowing it caused her to cough again. Mouse took the cup away until she finished, then put it back. She nodded, took a careful breath through her nose, and tried again.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time, but she finally drained the cup. “That’s probably enough for now,” Mouse said, “Try to sleep. This one should be more restful.”

Amell obligingly lay back down, exhaustion quickly sweeping over her. As she closed her eyes, she felt the blanket move up to cover her shoulders, and heard Mouse murmur something. As her mind registered the words, her lips twitched, and she fell asleep smiling.

“Swift healing, Warden.”

***

Next time: Amell and Mouse make their way back to Thedas, and we finally learn what's in that package.

[Wig_Powder]

Slight content warning: there's a paragraph partway through the chapter that heavily centers around blood.

Chapter 20

Amell guessed it was at least a week before she was able to get off her cot, and three or four days after that before she managed to leave the lean-to. Gojko and the other healers came and went, busy with other patients and life in the village, but Mouse was always present, ready to bring her food or water or provide something for her to hold on to when she tried standing or walking. He must have been bored, since he had no books to read and couldn’t always interact with the healers or patients, but for once, he didn’t complain. Amell wasn’t sure if she should find that heartening or worrying. She didn’t think his lack of griping signaled trickery on his part, but if he was only doing it because he didn’t think she had the energy for it, she must have been even worse off than she thought.

Eventually, though, she was able to move around under her own power (albeit leaning heavily on her staff), and was allowed to leave the lean-to. Her Mabari was so overjoyed to see her that he nearly knocked her to the ground trying to lick her face, though he was fortunately prevented from doing so by Amell bracing herself and by Mouse calling for the dog to slow down, meaning there was slightly less force when he ran into her. The dog immediately whined apologetically, but she just chuckled raspily and patted his head. “I’m glad you were worried about me,” she said, “But you should probably avoid being so effusive for a bit, all right?” He barked in agreement, and Amell smiled at him before slowly making her way to the central campfire, figuring that was as far as she’d be able to go before needing a rest.

Bit by bit, her strength returned. She stood up and walked around as frequently as she was allowed to, and spent more and more time awake instead of dozing. When Mouse noticed this, he started using her time in bed to engage her in conversations, presumably to help both of them pass the time. Sometimes it was making plans for when and how they would be leaving the Donarks, but more often than not it was similar to their old fireside conversations about humanity. It was comfortably familiar, and Amell was grateful for that; it helped remind her of a sense of normalcy and that her current condition would pass.

On the day she was able to walk around the whole settlement and cast three magic spells without feeling like she was about to collapse, Amell decided she was strong enough to start making the journey back to Thedas. She did still need to use her staff to help support her, but it was an aid rather than a necessity now, and as long as they moved slowly for a few more days and didn’t encounter anything too nasty, she was sure she’d be back to full strength relatively soon. Wanugi nevertheless insisted they be accompanied at least part of the way by some of her warriors, and Amell wasn’t about to refuse. They had a goodbye feast that night, Wanugi promising to be hospitable to anyone else from Thedas who came their way as long as they mentioned knowing Amell or Mouse, and handing over the sack of raceme, now half-full. And the next morning, Amell, Mouse, the dog, and four warriors began to walk back the way Amell had mapped out.

The group did encounter one of the wingless dragons four days into the journey, but they dispatched it relatively quickly, and Amell was able to keep to the back and pelt it with spells, so it wasn’t as draining as it could have been. Other than that fight, however, they didn’t encounter anything particularly difficult for what Amell counted as a week and a half. That was more than enough time for her to be able to stop walking without the aid of her staff and start properly pulling her weight once more. She’d assumed that would be the signal for their escort to return home, but they told her Wanugi had instructed them to follow along to the edge of the Donarks, to get a glimpse of the outside world and possibly to find new hunting grounds along the way. Amell certainly didn’t mind the company or the extra assistance in fighting, so they continued on.

Now that she was back at full strength, Amell was able to tell that the return journey was much easier than the trip out had been. While part of it was due to having a vague idea of where they were going thanks to the map she’d sketched out, it also felt like they weren’t encountering as many dangers, and by extension covering more ground in a day. She wasn’t sure if it was because she, Mouse, and the Mabari had already killed the worst dangers on the way in, or if the animals were staying away because of the larger size of the party, but she wasn’t about to complain about it. The sooner they left the jungle, the sooner she could bring the good news to the Wardens.

One day, Amell was conversing with the mage warrior Kiri when she heard her dog barking excitedly. Looking over in his direction, Amell immediately saw what he had; actual daylight. Even at this distance, it was blinding compared to the constant if dim light of the jungle, but the sight made Amell’s heart soar. She let the Mabari have his head and tear off towards the light, but while she was sorely tempted to follow his example, she forced herself to keep walking normally, not wanting to be rude to the people who had gotten her this far.

When they finally reached the outskirts of the jungles, everyone put their hands over their eyes as one, though Amell and Mouse adjusted much faster than the Chizoba did. Amell gave all four warriors her most effusive thanks for their help, and then took her leave of them, Mouse following behind her and the dog running back and forth between her and the semi-familiar ground of the Anderfels. She glanced back once, out of instinct and curiosity, and saw that their escort was still there, watching them go. Whether it was out of respect or curiosity of their own, Amell couldn’t say, but she was touched by the gesture. Giving them a final wave, she turned her attention back to the road ahead.

***

While the temperature in the Anderfels wasn’t as humid as it had been in the Donarks, the group quickly discovered that they had returned to Thedas in the late spring, so the climate was temperate enough that Mouse could readjust to it without falling ill, something everyone was grateful for. Without that limitation holding them back, the three of them did their best to cover as much ground as they could, sometimes travelling for an hour or so after sundown. Now that they were in more familiar (or at least properly mapped) territory and that much closer to bringing the raceme to the Wardens, Amell didn’t want to waste any time.

During their downtime at night, Amell wrote letters to her non-Warden friends, letting them know of the success of her journey. She also inquired into what exactly had happened with that crisis Leliana had written about; she’d glanced skyward once they were out of sight of the Donarks, and while she had seen a streak of green in the sky, it didn’t look anywhere near as catastrophic as Leliana’s letter had made it sound. Amell hoped that was an indication that things had been brought under control, and that her assistance wouldn’t be required. While she’d willingly admit that the last few years hadn’t exactly been strenuous, it had still been in service of a cause, and she deserved a little time to herself. Besides, if there wasn’t something that urgently required her attention, it would make it easier for her to keep a long overdue promise.

Two and a half months after leaving the Donarks, Amell spotted the Warden headquarters, and her heart quickened with anticipation and nerves. Glancing at her companions, she asked a silent question. Her dog responded by barking excitedly and sprinting down the road, while Mouse just smiled. “I can turn into a mouse and let you carry me, if you think that will help you get there faster.”

“It might,” Amell acknowledged, “Thank you.” Mouse nodded, and then changed into his mouse form. Once Amell had put him into the pouch at her hip and checked to make sure he was fully inside, she took a deep breath and then moved as fast as she could go without actually running. As much as she wanted to arrive at Weisshaupt before nightfall, she didn’t want to exhaust herself, either.

The sun was setting as Amell and the Mabari reached the final ridge that led to Weisshaupt. She stopped long enough to set Mouse down and instruct him to turn human again, so they wouldn’t have to deal with any awkward questions. Once he’d done so, they walked over the rise. Almost as soon as they did so, they heard a shout from somewhere in the upper regions of the fortress, and the doors swung open for them almost as soon as they approached them. As they walked inside, they were greeted with blaring trumpets and excited cheering. Amell couldn’t be sure if they were celebrating her safe return or somehow knew she’d found the cure, but was glad she’d apparently been missed.

While Mouse and the Mabari were led to rooms to rest and freshen up, Amell went straight to the First Warden’s office to present him with her notes on the Donarks and the bag of raceme. He listened to her report with interest, then stood up and offered her his hand. “Well done, Warden Amell. I’ll get in touch with other leaders of Thedas to let them know of your discoveries. Perhaps a proper expedition can be formed to open diplomatic negotiations with these Chizoba. In the meantime, however, we should start distributing this raceme to the Wardens here at Weisshaupt before sending it out to the other Warden strongholds. How would you suggest we go about it?”

“Based on my own experiences, I believe only one Warden should be taking it at a time. The raceme takes several days to purge the darkspawn corruption from the body, and then the Warden will need at least a month to recover their strength. I’d say one Warden should be given the cure every three weeks, to make sure there are always some on hand in case they’re needed. We should start with the ones who are most likely to start feeling the effects of the Calling, and once they’ve been treated, move to a lots system.”

The First Warden nodded. “We’ll start with Warden Hexam tomorrow morning. I’ll want you on hand to make sure things are working.”

Amell nodded. “I’ll do what I can, though I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. My companion was the one who really saw what I went through.”

“Make sure he’s there as well, then. Dismissed.” Amell gave a brief salute and then made her way to her rooms. The request did mean she’d need to put off her promise for a little longer, but assuming everything went well, she’d be able to keep it in about a week.

***

Just after dawn the next morning, Amell, Mouse, several healers, and the First Warden all gathered in Warden Hexam’s room. As everyone watched, Amell cut and ground up the raceme the way she’d been shown by Wanugi, before putting it into a cup full of water and putting the cup in the fire. Ten minutes later, the water was boiling, and she gingerly removed the cup and set it on the table. While she waited for it to cool, she gave Hexam what she hoped was a reassuring glance. “I won’t lie to you, the experience isn’t going to be pleasant. But if you’re strong and sure of yourself, you’ll come through it.”

Hexam nodded, though her expression was still nervous. The First Warden spoke up next. “Thank you for being the first—well, second—one to try this. If this works, you’ll be the sign to the others that we’re free of one of our worst burdens.”

Hexam managed a weak smile. “No pressure, eh? Well, since I think I was starting to hear the Calling anyway, I might as well be the practice case. It can’t be much worse than what would have been waiting for me in the Deep Roads.”

Amell didn’t respond to that, as she couldn’t say for sure if Hexam was right or not. Based on her own experiences, though, she thought the other Warden’s statement was a matter of debate. She reached out with a finger and lightly touched the cup. “I think it’s cool enough. Good luck.”

Hexam tested the cup herself, then picked it up. “Here goes nothing.” she said, raising the cup in the direction of Amell and the First Warden. Then she drank most of the medicine in one go, with just one quick pause for breath before finishing it off. Amell took the cup from her and gestured to the healers. “Get her on her bed. It’ll be more comfortable for her there.”

The healers had just managed to wrap their hands around Hexam’s forearms when her eyes glazed over and she went limp, starting to crumple to the ground. The healers quickly tightened their grip and brought Hexam to the bed, laying her on her back. “What happens now?” Amell asked Mouse.

“A lot of thrashing around and incoherent babbling,” Mouse replied, “The blood sweating starts after about a day.”

Sure enough, Hexam grimaced and started to shift on the bed, groaning softly. “What can we do?” asked one of the healers.

“There’s not much you can do,” Mouse answered, “Keep her from falling off the bed or otherwise injuring herself, and once the blood comes, wipe it away with cool water. When the blood finally stops, that’s when we need to wait and see if she comes out of it.”

Amell looked at the First Warden. “Do you want us to stay and make sure things are progressing properly?”

“Yes. Mouse can let us know if things are going according to plan, and the healers need to know what to expect when we start distributing this cure to the other Wardens. As for you, you need to be able to see what it’s like from the other side. Assuming this works, I’ll have a mission for you.”

Amell nodded. “Yes, Ser.” He nodded back, then glanced over at Hexam before leaving the room. Amell gave Mouse’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “You heard the First Warden. I guess we’ll be staying here for a few days.”

Mouse shrugged. “I can think of worse places to be confined.”

Hexam let out a loud shout, kicking out with a leg, and the two healers rushed over to keep her steady. Amell, meanwhile, moved to the door and opened it a crack, waiting for a passing servant. As long as she and Mouse were going to be stuck in here, she might as well make sure they had some reading material on hand.

***

The next four days weren’t particularly pleasant. Hexam alternated between periods of lying completely unmoving, only her shallow breaths indicating she was still alive, and lashing out at invisible assailants while shouting. While Mouse was able to read unperturbed (he looked up occasionally to let the others know that things were progressing normally as far as he could see), Amell was left wincing in a combination of sympathy and frustration. She got what little sleep she could during Hexam’s quiet periods, but mostly spent her time helping the healers tend to Hexam, be that holding her shoulder until her movements calmed or wiping away the blood.

Oh, the blood. Even with Mouse’s warning that it was coming, the sight of dark red liquid oozing out of Hexam’s arms and temple was unnerving. She wasn’t too proud to admit she half-screamed at the sight. Mouse reassured her it was normal and a good sign, but he seemed to take a bit of satisfaction in Amell’s fear. Amell took consolation in the fact that the healers seemed similarly unsettled, though they retained their professionalism and began preparing bowls of cool water.

As there were no windows in Hexam’s room and they kept the door closed to minimize alarming the other inhabitants of the fortress, Amell wasn’t completely sure of the passage of time. All she knew was that the blood on Hexam’s body seemed to return almost as soon as she and the healers had wiped it away, and Hexam’s voice was gradually getting more and more hoarse as she continued to yell. Things continued in what felt like an endless cycle, at least until the moment Healer Lydgate pointed out that the blood hadn’t immediately returned after wiping down Hexam’s forehead. After that, Amell and the other two stood close by the bed, watching intently to see if there would be any other changes. Mouse, on the other hand, glanced over the top of his book, nodded, and then returned to his reading.

When a servant arrived with food, Amell told him to fetch the First Warden, as they were coming close to the point when Hexam would hopefully come out of her daze. To the First Warden’s credit, it didn’t take long for him to arrive, and he took up vigil beside Amell. By now, there hadn’t been any trace of blood for quite some time, and Hexam hadn’t made any violent motions, either. The four of them watched her chest rise and fall, occasionally glancing at her face to check for signs of wakefulness. Even with eight pairs of eyes looking, however, it still came as a surprise when Hexam’s eyes flew open. Much like Amell had done, she lay there for a minute, then gingerly began moving her limbs. “Welcome back,” the First Warden said, “How do you feel?”

“Awful.” Hexam croaked, before coughing. Amell signaled for Lydgate to bring over some water. Mouse, meanwhile, got up from his chair and stood on Amell’s other side, looking Hexam over intently. Then he made eye contact with Amell and gave her a tiny nod. Amell knew that meant he couldn’t sense the corruption inside Hexam anymore, and she felt a bit of tension leave her shoulders.

Lydgate returned with the water, helped Hexam sit up, and then put the cup to her lips. She sipped, coughed a few times, then sipped again. After repeating this routine a few times, she seemed up for speaking. “Am I…all right?”

“I think so,” Amell said, “Though Healer Bute will need to use her magic to check. What do you say, Mouse?”

Mouse obligingly pretended to look over Hexam again. “She seems to have followed the same path you did. As far as I can tell, she’s free of the corruption.”

Hexam exhaled shakily, tears starting to leak from her eyes. “Thank…the Maker.”

Bute was already casting spells to examine Hexam. After passing her hands down the entirety of Hexam’s body, she looked at the others with a mixture of joy and satisfaction. “I’m not seeing any trace of the darkspawn inside her. I believe she’s cured.”

The tears started moving even faster down Hexam’s cheeks. The First Warden rested his hand on her shoulder. “Well done. Rest and recover, and I’ll tell the others the good news. There will be plenty of celebrating tonight, but I’ll make sure we hold a second celebration as soon as you’re strong enough to attend.”

“Thank you…Ser.” Hexam said, trying to shift position to get more comfortable. As Bute and Lydgate moved to assist her, the First Warden left. After a moment, Amell and Mouse followed after him, not wanting to crowd and overwhelm the patient.

The First Warden glanced behind him when he heard their footsteps, and smiled slightly. “It appears that your cure is indeed a cure. Well done to you, too. I’ll be sure to give you the proper honors as soon as I can determine how best to do it.”

“I appreciate that, Ser.” Amell said with a bow of her head.

“Go to your rooms and rest,” the First Warden ordered gently, “You’ll want to be able to fully appreciate the revelry that’s about to ensue.”

“Yes, Ser.” Amell said with a faint chuckle, and peeled off towards her quarters. Once she was inside (and had finished being greeted by her dog), she looked over at Mouse. “You can go to the library if you want while I’m sleeping. No need for you to stay at another bedside, especially when it’s not needed. I’ll come find you when I wake up and we can go down to the main hall together.”

“With pleasure,” Mouse said, “Until this evening, then.”

 He promptly left the room, perhaps to make sure she would have to chase after him if she changed her mind. Amell smiled slightly and changed into her nightshirt. Just before she moved to the bed, however, she went to her pack and removed the package, setting it on the desk. Then she disposed of the note and slipped under the bedcovers. Given that it was a time of celebration, it seemed only fitting that she contribute to it in a slightly different way.

***

As predicted, the other Wardens reacted enthusiastically to the news that they would no longer have to confront the Calling. There was drinking, feasting, raucous songs, and plenty of cheering. Amell received a lot of slaps on the back, one toast in her honor, and plenty of questions about what to expect and when the others could start taking the cure. She enjoyed the accolades and an excuse to relax a little after all she’d been through, but her thoughts kept drifting to the package upstairs. At last, when she was no longer able to even temporarily distract herself from the thought, she decided the time had come. Looking around the hall, she saw Mouse standing in a corner, watching the goings-on with mild amusement. She made her way over to him and gestured towards the door. “Let’s go. I think most of the Wardens are drunk enough that we won’t be missed.” Mouse seemed a bit surprised, but followed after her.

He waited until they were approaching their rooms before he asked “Any particular reason you chose to leave a party where you’re practically the guest of honor?”

“I’ve spent so much time in small groups in the past few years that I’ve become unaccustomed to large crushes of people. Something I’ll need to get used to again. More importantly, though, I have something for you.”

Mouse cocked his head, eyes flashing briefly. “Oh?”

Amell let him into her room, closing the door behind her. Then she picked up the package and presented it to him. “Here.”

Mouse looked from her to the package, not exactly suspicious but also clearly unsure what to make of this. It didn’t take long for his curiosity to win out, though, and he gingerly undid the wrapping, revealing a small brown box. Opening that, he blinked for a few moments before reaching inside and withdrawing a silver necklace and chain, the pendant carved with intricate patterns. He spun it around, looking it over, then lowered it and looked back at Amell. “It’s nice enough, I suppose. But why…?”

“You’ll understand in a moment,” Amell said, taking the necklace and box away from him, “Sit down.”

 Mouse obligingly sat in the nearest chair. Amell took a lyrium potion from her pack, then moved to stand beside him. Setting the items on the side table, she began to cast a spell. She was focused on getting the gestures right, but she was still able to hear Mouse’s gasp when a silver thread appeared around his wrist. Seconds later, her skin tingled, and she saw the thread appear around her own wrist, as bright as the day it had first been tied to her. She glanced up just long enough to see Mouse looking at her in wonder, then lifted her hands and brought them sharply downward. The thread snapped with a soft jingle, and then it faded from view, the tingling subsiding shortly thereafter. As Mouse lifted his arm and stared at it, Amell picked up the necklace and hung it around his neck. Then she downed the lyrium potion and pointed her hands at the pendant. Blue light flowed from her hands into the pendant, causing it to glow. Once it was fully suffused, Amell lowered her hands.

“There. You’re free. And that amulet ensures you can never be bound again as long as you wear it.”

Mouse cupped the amulet in his hand and gazed at it, one finger tracing the patterns. Then he looked up at her. “You really did it. You’re aware of the risks, and you still did it.”

 “I promised you I would, long ago,” Amell reminded him, “And I trust you to keep yourself from falling prey to corruption again.”

“I can’t…you are…” Mouse shook his head. “Odd. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself now.”

“Whatever comes to your mind. There are plenty of places around Thedas we never explored, and probably a lot of reading material you’ve never heard of. I’d suggest avoiding Tevinter or anywhere where you think your worst nature could exert itself, but otherwise, you’re free to go wherever you wish. Besides, some of your power was probably cut off from you while you were bound. This seems like a prime opportunity to see just what you’re capable of.”

“I suppose it is, at that.” Mouse said, getting to his feet. He did it slowly, as though he was still coming to terms with the fact that it was completely his choice to do so. He looked around, then met her eyes again. “You wouldn’t mind if I just…left?”

Amell chuckled. “Well, I’d hope you’d at least say goodbye to me first. But no, I don’t mind. After spending over a decade following my orders, I can’t blame you for wanting some time to yourself. If anyone asks where you’ve gone, I’ll tell them you had other business to attend to now that our search for the cure has been successful. Since no one here knows about our previous arrangement, I doubt they’ll think twice about it.”

Mouse hesitated, then held out a hand. “Thank you,” he said softly, “For keeping your word. For treating me so well. For seeing my potential. For…everything.”

Amell clasped his hand. “You’re welcome. But in the end, I think we’re even. I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for you, and most of my accomplishments were made easier because of your help.”

Mouse smiled wryly. “What will you do without me?”

“I’ll think of something,” Amell responded, “Though if you’re ever so inclined…I wouldn’t object to your coming round to visit me every once in a while. Just to see what you’ve been up to and catch up on old times.”

“I think I can manage that.” Mouse said.

He let go of her hand and briefly patted the head of the Mabari, who had been watching all of this curiously and now whined sadly. Mouse laughed lightly. “How times have changed. I remember a time when you’d have been glad to see the back of me.”

The dog nudged Mouse’s hand with his nose, then obligingly gave a playful growl. Mouse scratched behind the dog’s ears, then looked back at Amell. “Best of luck, Warden. I hope I find you in good health and spirits when we meet again.”

Amell nodded, not wanting to prolong the goodbye. Mouse nodded back before running his hands down his body, apparently conducting an internal examination. Then he closed his eyes, brow furrowing slightly. There was a bright flash of light, and when Amell’s eyes readjusted, Mouse was gone.

***

We're on the home stretch now! We're down to two more chapters to wrap things up. Thanks to everybody who's been sticking with this insanely long, only occasionally sneezy story!

[Wig_Powder]

Chapter 21

Amell spent another month at Weisshaupt, mostly to monitor Hexam’s recovery and share in the official celebration when Hexam was declared mostly recovered. In that time, she received even more praise for her efforts, as well as being informed that a new medal was going to be created and named after her “for giving almost everything to aid the Wardens.” She was grateful for the appreciation, especially given how she’d been considered a menace for most of her life. It might not change the general opinion of mages, especially not after the recent conflict, but she still considered it a small victory.

Two days after the Hexam celebration, the First Warden called Amell into his office. “I told you I had a mission for you, and it’s high time I sent you on it. Once you’ve completed it, however, you’re free to take a well-deserved break.”

“Thank you, Ser,” Amell said, “What’s the mission?”

“One I think you’ll be more than happy to carry out. I want you to go back to Amaranthine and administer the cure there. It seems fitting that you be the one to assist them.”

“Yes, Ser,” Amell agreed with a smile, “When do you want me to leave?”

“As soon as you’re able. Talk to Healer Danton to get the raceme; I think you’ll need about fifty, plus a few extras in case some are destroyed along the way.”

“I’ll leave in the morning, then. Unless you want to have another feast to see me off.”

“Would that we could,” the First Warden said with a laugh, “But we need to save some resources. Never think that we aren’t grateful for what you’ve done, however. I’ll continue to try to come up with ways to reward you for your efforts.”

“The thought is appreciated just as much as the actions,” Amell said, before giving a salute, “Now then, shall I go and make preparations for my journey?”

The First Warden nodded. “Dismissed. And good luck.”

Amell spent the rest of that day packing and making her goodbyes, going to bed early to get as much rest as possible. The next morning, she woke up with the sun and gathered up her things. As she slung her pack over her shoulders, she saw her hip pouch resting on the table where she’d left it. She started to reach for it out of habit, then stopped, realizing she didn’t need it any more. Withdrawing her hand, she left it where it was and whistled for her dog to accompany her. Let the Wardens decide what they wanted to do with it.

After a quick meal, Amell left the fortress, saying a few more goodbyes on her way out. Then she was on the road again, the Mabari alternating between trotting at her side and running ahead. As much as Amell enjoyed the fresh air and having a goal to work towards, there was a part of her that felt…off. It wasn’t until she glanced behind her and saw that Weisshaupt had disappeared from view that she figured out what it was.

While she’d been with the other Wardens, there had been people to talk to and activities to keep her engaged and distracted. But now that she was on her own, it was really hitting her that Mouse was gone. No more philosophical discussions by the campfire. No more extra assistance, be it working out a puzzle or taking down an enemy. She even missed his sarcastic jibes and complaining about various human frailties. While he’d never felt the same way, she’d grown to consider him a friend, especially since he’d been with her through almost all her adventures. No one else, not even her Mabari, had that distinction. Maybe that was why she felt slightly empty.

The feeling would pass, of course. It would probably take some time, but she’d come to terms with it, the same way she’d accepted being Warden-Commander. And if Mouse kept his promise to visit her on occasion, she’d be able to think of him as she did all her other friends and former companions. For now, though, not having anybody to talk to to help pass the time was going to sting.

***

While Amell probably could have used her previous route through Tevinter to reach Amaranthine, she decided she didn’t want to have to deal with the snobbery and power plays. Instead, she’d take a route through Nevarra, until she reached the Waking Sea and was able to get passage to Amaranthine. In fact, according to her map, this route would actually be shorter. That was fine by her; the sooner she could cure other Wardens, the better.

Despite the reduced time, though, it was still a fairly long walk, made slightly longer by the various things that attacked her on the way. No darkspawn this time, but the crisis Leliana had written her about (and elaborated on in her last letter) had apparently unsettled both animals and various groups of people, making them more inclined to attack travellers. Compared to some of the things she’d faced, Amell was able to take them down fairly easily. If anything, the biggest difficulty with them was the loss of time, poultices, and lyrium. But at least she was occasionally able to get an item for her troubles.

Thanks to those delays, it took about half a month before she and the Mabari were even close to Nevarra’s borders. When she realized they’d reach the region the following day, Amell perked up slightly; it was a new city, meaning new things to see and explore. And, hopefully, less things to fight. She took the first watch, trying to recall what she’d read of Nevarra, then traded off with her Mabari after four hours. Even so, her speculation over what Nevarra would be like made it difficult for her to fall asleep.

Amell was roused the next morning by a bark from outside. She listened carefully, but there was no further barking, growling, or sounds of a scuffle. Furthermore, the bark had sounded happy rather than angry. Assuming her Mabari had dug up something interesting or spotted some friendly wildlife, Amell didn’t spring into action, instead stretching and allowing herself to wake up a little more naturally. Then she got dressed, removed items for making breakfast, and packed up everything else. Once she was satisfied, she finally emerged from the tent…and dropped everything in her arms in shock.

Mouse was sitting by the campfire, the Mabari sitting contentedly by his side. Mouse glanced over at the sound of the items crashing to the ground and gave her a slight smile. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing here?” Amell asked, some of her composure returning, “I’d have thought you’d still be gallivanting about, enjoying your new freedom.”

“I assure you, I took full advantage of it,” Mouse said, scratching behind the Mabari’s ears, “I’ve gone across Thedas, examining the libraries of all the major cities. I spent a week in Rivain just to see if they really do revere spirits as much as they say. I’ve hovered above mountains and dived deep into oceans, just to see what I’m capable of. And in the course of doing all that, I came to a realization.”

Amell bent down to pick up her things. “And what would that be?”

“Unless I’m killed in a fight, I’m functionally immortal. I have centuries ahead of me to explore Thedas and beyond. On the other hand, a human lifespan is less than a century. And mortals can come up with ideas spirits can never conceive of.”

Amell started to smile, her heart lightening. “So you want someone to show you how it’s done?”

Mouse shook his head. “No. Well, yes, but…it’s more interesting to get alternate perspectives on things, instead of just encountering them on your own. I might as well take advantage of a resource for as long as it’s available.” He gave her a sideways look, but it wasn’t his usual sly glance. If anything, it was…hesitant. “That is, if you don’t object.”

Amell grinned broadly. “Not at all.”

Mouse’s face seemed to relax, and tension appeared to leave his back and shoulders. “Good. I confess, I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you said no. Left to verbally spar with Zevran, I im…”

He broke off, blinking. Then his hand dove to his side, withdrawing a handkerchief and bringing it to his face. “At-kish!”

Amell chuckled, sitting down next to him and setting a pan over the fire. “Swift healing.”

Mouse sighed. “My own fault. I told you I went to the mountains. I really should have considered that they tend to have much lower temper…at-chh!”

“Swift healing. Has this just started?”

Mouse nodded. “I was cold yesterday due to being in the mountains, but didn’t think much of it.”

“Well, maybe we can keep you from getting much worse. You can…” Amell stopped, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I left your pouch at Weisshaupt.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Mouse replied, detaching his own pouch of handkerchiefs, “I seem to recall you claiming you were keeping a second pouch around for a friend. Unless you changed your mind somewhere along the way.”

Amell’s smile felt like it would split her cheeks. “No. It’s still here.” She set some meat on the pan, then reached over and opened up her pauldron. “See?”

Mouse smiled and set his handkerchiefs on the log. Then there was a flash of light, and a tawny-gold mouse scampered across to her, shooting up her arm and darting into the pouch. Amell slipped a fresh handkerchief inside with him before letting the pouch fall closed. Then she turned her attention to the food, still smiling. “So…who’s going to relate their adventures first?”

***

Next (and final) time: An epilogue.

[Wig_Powder]

Epilogue

Amell stuck her head inside the library. “How are you feeling, Mouse?”

Mouse looked over at her, resting his latest book on his lap. “Well enough.” Then he grimaced. “It’s not time for another reducer, is it?”

 Amell chuckled and shook her head. “It’s only been two hours. Either you’ve been really engaged in your reading, or your senses are still dulled enough to not be able to properly gauge the passage of time.”

“Allow me to at least claim the former,” Mouse replied, adjusting the blanket around his shoulders, “I like having some dignity.”

“I’ve seen you crash into a wall thanks to a sneeze,” Amell reminded him, “You can’t hide your occasional lapse of poise from me.”

“Yes, but I can try to keep those lapses occasional. And it helps if you play along.”

“In public, certainly. But in private, I should be allowed a bit of teasing. Especially since I’m the one who supplies you with medicine and clean handkerchiefs.”

“I could handle that myself, if I chose to,” Mouse said, “But it’s so much more satisfying having a human to tend to my every…”

His voice trailed off, eyes unfocusing slightly. There was movement underneath the blanket, and then a hand holding a handkerchief came up to his face. “Nnt-chh!”

“Swift healing,” Amell said, smiling slightly, “Well, I suppose you can be allowed that indulgence when you’re sick, just as I can indulge in teasing. Consider it a fair tradeoff.”

Mouse smiled back, rubbing at his nose. “Very well.”

He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, repressing a yawn. “You should probably get some sleep,” Amell said, “Rest’s the best cure for a cold, after all.”

“I want to finish this chapter first,” Mouse said, picking up his book again, “It’s rubbish, but fascinating in its awfulness at the same time. I want to see just how wrong this Tenney Firmin can be about his conjectures regarding the Fade.”

Amell shrugged. “Suit yourself. As long as it’s entertaining, I suppose.” With that, she left him to his reading, returning to her room to do some reading of her own.

After she had helped cure the Wardens at Amaranthine, the First Warden had informed her that, in light of all she’d done for the Wardens, Ferelden, and Thedas, she could consider herself retired from active duty. She’d still be expected to pitch in when a crisis arose, but she could have her pick of how and where she spent her time. After some consideration, Amell had decided to stay in Amaranthine, taking a house in town and visiting Vigil’s Keep once a week. Sometimes she helped new recruits with training, other times she assisted in research, and sometimes, if there was a mission or expedition that sounded interesting or in an area she was familiar with, she would tag along to lend a hand. When nothing particularly exciting was going on at the Keep, she’d turn her attention to smaller jobs being requested by various parties. And sometimes, she’d leave to go exploring other areas of Thedas, claiming to be doing it to learn new things that could help the Wardens but mostly just for the thrill of seeing new places. Besides, she did wind up bringing back interesting new ideas, so no one could really fault her for it.

During the winter, however, she preferred to remain in Amaranthine. She still visited the Keep and was more than happy to help with any research that needed to be done, but made it clear that she wouldn’t venture too far as soon as the temperature dropped. Given her status as the Hero of Ferelden and her contributions to the Wardens, no one ever questioned this. Though whenever Amell announced she was entering her annual semi-hibernation, she could see Oghren and Howe give each other, then her, a knowing look. But they managed to keep their amusement—and the explanation—to themselves, and she was grateful for it.

This particular winter, the Wardens were looking into the history of the old Elven gods, in response to rumors about yet another potential crisis. Amell was happy to take on the book research and try to figure out if there were any common threads in the multiple stories. Perhaps then, expeditions to look for and speak to Dalish elves wouldn’t be dismissed as completely ignorant. She knew Mouse would be more than happy to assist her, maybe even provide some perspective gleaned from his time in the Fade, but that would have to wait until he’d recovered and was able to fully focus on the task. Or at least, wouldn’t distract Amell with his sneezing and griping about his symptoms.

Amell spent an hour looking through her books, making notes and marking similarities with a small star. She would have continued longer, but then her stomach growled and she knew she should get herself something to eat. Standing up, she stretched and whistled to her dog, who was more than happy to get a little snack. As they headed for the kitchen, she poked her head into the library again. It still wasn’t time for another dose of medicine, but she could at least check to see if Mouse’s fever was spiking.

To her surprise, she didn’t see any sign of Mouse, just the blanket and the book left on his chair. Then she looked closer, and bit back a laugh. There was a small lump resting on top of the still open book, entirely covered by the blanket. Signaling for the Mabari to wait in the hall, Amell crept inside and carefully lifted a corner of the blanket. Sure enough, Mouse’s rodent form was curled up on the left page, fast asleep, a bit of his handkerchief resting against his side. Smiling, Amell cupped her hands around him and lifted him up, carrying him to the hearth, where a basket lined with velvet was waiting. Placing him inside it, she covered him with a piece of embroidered velvet, then checked to make sure there was a clean handkerchief close at hand (or paw). Satisfied, she returned to the chair, where she picked up the book—noting with more amusement that it didn’t seem close to the end of a chapter—and set it on the side table for later. When she checked in on him again in a few hours, there was a good chance he’d be back in the chair, pretending nothing had ever happened. But he’d almost certainly give her a nod and a little smile, and she might even be willing not to joke about falling asleep mid-sentence. After all, that was what you did for your closest friend.

The End

 ***

And thus we come to the conclusion of a story five months in the making. I never expected it to get quite this huge, or become as plot heavy/sneeze light as it did, but I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoyed reading it! Thank you to everyone who read or will read this in the future!

To close this off, here's a post that partially inspired the way this story played out. And here's a picture I mocked up on Azalea Dolls' "Fairy Tale Scene Maker" that depicts our heroine, her companion, and a key item that often brings the two of them together. Three guesses as to what I'm talking about.