#especially anders i seem to go through an anders phase at least once every two months

[you-didnt]

as annual tradition i worked through my likes and put it all in my queue

I made it all the way to April before the queue was full but it was fun to see all the things I've been obsessed with this year

[i-am-the-luckiest]

Stranger Places Than This, Chapter 3

On AO3 here.

From the beginning here.

Varric was ass-deep in demons, firing bolt after bolt as they swarmed him. He gradually made his way over to the mage on the other side of the battle.

“They just keep coming! What are we gonna do if Broody can’t close these things?”

“I do not know,” Solas replied curtly as he froze the last shade on the field solid. Varric shot it, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The mage leaned on his staff, catching his breath. “Finally, a reprieve.

“We must hope your friend’s mark can close the rifts. Otherwise, I fear all of Thedas will fall to demons.”

As if on cue, the rift in front of them pulsed with eerie light, and more demons rose from the ground. Well, shit. Varric loaded a bolt into Bianca and pointed her toward a rage demon. “Here we go again.”

Between Solas’s ice magic and Bianca, the rage demon went down quickly, leaving them with several shades to fight. Varric was starting to run out of bolts, so he started making his way across the battlefield to pick up those that had fallen to the ground.

He leveled Bianca at a shade, hoping to at least distract it enough to get to some bolts a few feet to his right. It was engulfed in a fireball before he could pull the trigger.

A grin broke across Varric’s face as he looked over his shoulder at his friends. “Nice of you to join us! It was starting to get boring out here!”

Hawke laughed as she shot a lightning bolt at another shade. From beside her, Broody and Cassandra charged two more. They made quick work of the remaining demons.

As the last shades crumpled and were pulled back to the Fade, Solas rushed to Fenris’s side. “Quickly,” he yelled, “before more come through!” He grabbed the marked hand and lifted it toward the rift. A wavering beam of light reached between Fenris and the rift, and the elf’s lyrium markings lit up, a bright, sickly green rather than their usual blue.

The rift snapped closed with a loud crack. Solas smirked at it proudly. The others just gaped at Fenris.

“What the...” Hawke trailed off.

Varric tried next. “That was... a sight,” he managed.

“It must have been, to render speechless two of the most talkative people in Thedas.” Despite the humor in his words, Fenris sounded detached, as if the response was automatic. He was staring hard at his hand as if it had betrayed him in some way.

Cassandra seemed awed. She had never seen the lyrium in action before. Varric didn’t blame her. Everyone was a little amazed their first time, and this was more impressive than most.

Solas had finally turned his attention away from the sealed rift to Fenris. “That was quite remarkable. I had wondered how the mark would interact with the lyrium in your skin. It seems they interact well, a fortunate outcome.”

Varric shook his head. On the bright side, Broody could close the rifts. But of all the people in Thedas to get stuck with a glowing magical hand that somehow connects to the Fade, it had to be Fenris. He had hated magic for as long as Varric had known him. Hawke had helped with that a lot, but judging from the look on his face, the feeling was back in full force. He would have to remember not to get too close to the elf when there were mages around.

* * *

“What is this?” Fenris shook his hand angrily at the apostate.

Solas took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for an assault. That was probably wise. “Whatever magic created the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand.”

“So you decided to throw me at one of these rifts and hope that it would close?” Why did mages continue to use him for their own ends with no regard for his person? Was Hawke the only good mage in existence? She had at least told him what they planned to do.

“It seems I was correct.” The mage was insufferable. He did not appear repentant for his behavior, and was looking at Fenris’ markings curiously. It felt different than when the magisters had ogled him. Solas did not look at him with jealousy and a desire for ownership. Instead he looked at the lyrium lines with pity, an excessive amount of interest, and what almost felt like recognition.

“Your lyrium markings are fascinating. From what Hawke has told me, that was an unusual reaction.”

Fenris glanced at Hawke, who shot him an apologetic look. “Yes,” he replied tersely.

“I admit to some curiosity. Would you be willing to activate them?”

Gritting his teeth, Fenris spat out a “no”. Using his markings was uncomfortable on good days, but now... No. Even if they were not painful, he would not put himself on display. He was not some pet to be paraded at will.

Sending him another apologetic look, Hawke spoke up. “The mark is interfering with them somehow. Nothing I can do will help him.” Of course she had to tell him. She didn’t mean anything by it. She wanted to help. It was still frustrating.

He didn’t want this stranger to know that he had a weakness, temporary though it may be. Especially this stranger who knew a bit too much about what was happening. It was odd that he had appeared so quickly after the explosion.

Solas, who had been animatedly discussing something, presumably Fenris, with Hawke, suddenly turned to him. “I may be able to help.” He reached out a hand toward Fenris, who flinched away. “May I?”

Fenris turned to Hawke, who nodded at him encouragingly. If she thought it was safe... and killing demons would be much easier with his markings functioning properly. He nodded begrudgingly. Solas set his extended hand on Fenris’ left shoulder. A wave of healing magic poured over him. He scowled. It was always strange to feel new magic on him, but this was even stranger than usual.

Every mage’s magic felt different. Hawke’s was a gentle, warm breeze that soothed him all the way through. Anders’ had been sharp, bright, like brandy poured over a wound. It was unpleasant but effective. Danarius’ had felt almost oily, slick with deceit and blood magic. Thankfully, Merrill was not a healer. He never wanted to feel blood magic on him again.

Solas’ magic felt... old. There was no other way to describe it. It was like wind moving through grass that no longer existed, with an unbearable sense of longing. Like a cool spring day that you remember but can never get back.

The magic stopped, and he looked at the mage suspiciously. Something flickered in Solas’ eyes—some strange awareness—then it was gone, replaced by a smooth mask of professional curiosity.

“Well?” Hawke asked. She looked at him hopefully. “Did that help?”

Fenris took a deep breath and willed his markings to life. He felt the sharp prickle of the lyrium in his skin, thrumming through him like the blood in his veins. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he had closed them. Cassandra was staring at him open-mouthed. “Yes, well...” Fenris deactivated the lyrium and shook himself a little. “It seems that worked.”

He risked a glance at the strange mage, afraid of what he would see there. He looked curious, and impressed, but he didn’t have the hungry look in his eye that Fenris had come to expect from mages who used unusual magic. He looked almost sad. Begrudgingly, Fenris had to admit that the mage had helped him.

“Er... thank you.” Solas nodded. They stood there awkwardly, neither one speaking, for what felt an unbearably long time.

“So...,” Hawke dragged out the word. “What now?”

Cassandra spoke for the first time since Fenris had closed the rift. “Now, we go to the Breach.”

Varric wandered over to a small pile of crossbow bolts and put them back in the quiver on his hip, inspecting each one carefully. “Sounds great,” he said, tossing one aside with a scoff.

“Absolutely not.” Cassandra was clearly unwilling to bring Varric with them, despite his expertise at fighting demons. Varric would object. Fenris knew him well enough to know he would never let his friends go off to fight without him.

Fortunately, Hawke jumped in to defend her friend before he could release whatever snarky comment he had been thinking. “I know you two have issues, but Varric is the best archer I know” She straightened suddenly and turned to Varric quickly with a slightly panicked look on her face. “Don’t tell Sebastian.”

“Oh, I’m definitely telling him,” Varric smirked back.

She groaned and dragged her hand down her face. “Anyway...” Hawke turned her attention back to Cassandra, who was looking at her as if this proved her point. Clearly, she did not know Hawke. “Despite his tendency to make everyone he’s ever met want to kill him, I want him with us.” When the Seeker still didn’t look phased, Hawke played her final card. “This isn’t really your decision.” With that, she turned to look expectantly at Fenris.

He cleared his throat anxiously. “You want me to decide?” It’s not that this was a difficult decision. Of course the dwarf was coming. He had no qualms about making a choice, but this was not their usual paradigm. Hawke made the major decisions, and Fenris helped her carry out whatever she had decided. As far as he knew, Hawke didn’t resent the relative ease of his role, and he certainly didn’t envy hers.

It was Cassandra that replied. “You are the one with the mark. You are the one we must get to the Breach safely.”

“Varric comes with us.” Fenris turned to follow Hawke toward a path through the rubble around them. He heard the others fall in behind them. If he was to be making decisions now, he supposed this at least was an easy one, and was grateful for it.

* * *

As they walked through the large gates onto a wide stone bridge, Hawke thought over the last half hour. Fenris had used the mark on his hand to close another rift, and had collapsed in pain once more as the Breach expanded.

On the upside, there was now a slim chance they could save the world before it was torn apart and ravaged by demons. But now Fenris had been marked by magic yet again, and it looked permanent.

For one selfish moment, Hawke felt pity for herself. It had taken years to overcome Fenris’ hatred of magic. Would this undo everything they had worked toward? Would he hate her because she had somehow evaded whatever had caused the mark? Would he... No. Fenris was not so easily swayed, and this was not about her.

The group was approaching Leliana and that annoying Chantry brother. They were arguing about something. Hawke didn’t care about what. She was wondering about that second question, as she had for days now. Why not her? How had she escaped unscathed? She would have gladly carried that thing, if it meant Fenris didn’t have to.

She was snapped out of her pondering by Fenris’ voice. It seemed he had been paying attention. She looked at the ground and blushed. She was usually pretty good at listening to other people’s problems. Varric gave her an odd look, and she shook her head minutely, trying to tell him she was okay.

As she tuned back into the conversation, Cassandra and Leliana were debating which way to go to get to the temple. The Seeker demanded they charge through the valley, while Leliana wanted to take a path through the mountains. Apparently, some scouts had gone missing up there. Fenris was once again called upon to make a choice. This one was much harder than the last, and it showed on his face as he thought it through.

“We will... take the path through the mountains.”

Leliana nodded sharply and turned to give orders to a group of runners nearby. Cassandra huffed, but nodded her head and led them toward a snowy hill. Maybe they could save those missing soldiers. She smiled to herself. It was exactly what she would have chosen.

Fenris slowed his pace to join her, and they walked side by side up the embankment. He looked worried. She gave him a reassuring smile and reached out to take his gauntleted hand in her own. He squeezed it gently and smiled back at her.

Their tender moment was cut short by a wave of demons. With a battle cry, Fenris released her hand and charged toward them, sword held high. They fought their way through some kind of old mine, eventually emerging to find several soldiers. Well, the bodies of several soldiers.

“That cannot be all of them.” Cassandra sounded aghast, and more hopeful than certain.

“Maybe we’ll find some up ahead.” Hawke tried to sound confident. Based on the look she got from Fenris, she had not succeeded.

Solas spoke for the first time since they had closed the first rift. “Our priority must be the Breach. Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.” Pragmatism. Ugh.

“I’m leaving that to Broody here,” Varric rejoined. “Maker knows no one else can do it.”

A few minutes later, they reached a clearing to find a group of soldiers cluttered around a rift, battling a swarm of demons. They looked exhausted. Evidently, they’d been at this a while.

Everyone leapt into battle, Hawke using her force magic to pull several demons together so Fenris could cut them all down at once. Solas froze a shade solid, and Varric shattered it with a bolt from Bianca.

The rift pulsated, and two terrors—Hawke’s least favorite kind of demon—sprang up from the ground. This was where their weaknesses started to show. Hawke, Fenris, and Varric worked like a well-oiled machine, but the addition of new people threw everything off a little bit. They hadn’t fought together long enough to know what the others would do, which led to some clunky fighting.

Once, Hawke set one of the demons on fire just in time for Solas to send ice at it, putting out the flames. Cassandra charged at one, only to draw up short and nearly trip to avoid Fenris coming from a different direction. All told, the demons were put down, but it took far longer than it should have, and there were some minor injuries that had to be healed.

Fenris closed the rift, his whole body glowing green again and his face contorting with pain. Maker, she hoped it wouldn’t hurt once they closed the Breach. Of course, Solas had pointed out that there may not be any need to worry about that, as it could kill him, but Hawke had elected to ignore that advice.

The soldiers thanked Fenris profusely for saving them. Following Cassandra’s advice, they made a hasty retreat toward the tunnel. Their small party pressed on.

They were close now. Hawke could feel the energy still present from the blast. She was not looking forward to seeing what was left of the temple.

Varric stared up at the sky as they walked. “So... holes in the Fade don’t just accidentally happen, right?” Hawke snorted.

Solas looked at her reproachfully. “If enough magic is brought to bear, it is possible.”

“But there are easier ways to make things explode.”

“I don’t know, Varric,” Hawke said, “Do you remember that elf who tried to blow up Kirkwall with that poison she thought was gaat-... gaat-lerk...”

“Gaat-lok,” Fenris groaned. “I thought we agreed you would stop trying to speak Qunlat.” Hawke stuck her tongue out at him.

“We can’t all speak four languages. Anyway, my point is, it’s not always that easy. Sometimes, you try to blow something up, and all you get is a lot of crazy people chasing us with kitchen knives.”

Cassandra made a sound of disgust, clearly not amused by Hawke’s story, but Solas looked curious. Varric noticed, of course. He could always tell when someone was interested in a story. “I’ll tell you all about it some time. Right now, I think we’re about to be busy.”

He was right. Just as he finished speaking, they rounded a corner and caught sight of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.