[OPEN]

[noble_son]

Who: Nathaniel & YOU
Where: In the grounds
When: Far too early in the morning (4am - 6am), April 1st
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Nathaniel finds his way outside with a rudimentary archery target and a couple of lanterns. In the dark.

The Story:

He found it chilly when he stepped outdoors, but not enough to make him shiver. The cool air prickled through his clothing and nipped at his fingers for a few minutes before the mild exertion of walking warmed his blood enough to drive it off.

Carrying a large, round archery target under one arm and two lanterns in his hand, he moved far enough from the mansion to not be too much at risk of hitting anyone with a stray arrow (though close enough to be seen should someone peek out of the door or glance through a window) and carefully hung the target on the lowest bough of a tree. Beneath it and slightly behind, he set one lantern, retreating with the other and putting it down by his feet some three hundred yards away from his target.

THUNK

The first arrow hit with a satisfying sound and swung the target back, making the tree branch bob up and down.

He could be found there for the next couple of hours, long after the sky began to turn light and the lanterns became little more than ornaments. He paused briefly to turn them off when they were no longer needed, setting them together not far from where he stood. Almost anyone venturing near would find themselves easily spotted, the bow in his hand lowered and a small nod given to allow them to pass without danger.

[while Nathaniel is not overtly affected by the event in this post, I welcome anyone who is :D]

Comments

[morework]

Cullen sheathes the sword as soon as it is offered. The wound is sealed, but he is still keenly aware of how much it drained from him, not least of all because the clinic's floor bears crimson-smudged witness to it. He wonders if there is an easy opportunity to sit or support himself somewhere, and decides that there is not. He still stands, he can keep standing longer.

"Rather than that," Cullen repeats with a dull laugh. Anders' question has a simple, if not pleasant, answer, but it is Nathaniel's defence of the mage which draws him in. "You said you knew me. Kirkwall, yes? The battle at the Gallows? How many--" Minutes? Weeks? Years? "How much time has passed for you since? Not including Wonderland."

Because in the initial commotion few truly knew more than chaos, could not tell what had transpired or who had been responsible. But in the aftermath both catastrophe and culprit should have been revealed, especially to another Grey Warden...

[noble_son]

"Barely any time at all. People were still trying to fight."

He still couldn't quite come to terms with how it had all unfolded, both what he had seen and what he'd heard in the short time after. The mages had gained the support of the Champion.. why had the First Enchanter so suddenly turned to blood magic? None if it had made any sense, but everything had happened so quickly. Nathaniel shakes his head and gives Anders a quick glance. They haven't talked about it. Not about any of it.

"Only minutes. I heard the fighting break out while visiting with my sister, and came to assist as quickly I could. When I arrived at the Gallows, the Knight-Commander had already entirely lost her mind. What I heard after was limited. Everything was so.. muddled. All I knew for certain was that the Chantry..." Had exploded. That a rebel apostate mage had done it. That Anders had done it.

"That Grand Cleric Elthina and everyone inside the Chantry had been killed in an explosion. And.. who they were saying had done it."

[circlejerked]

Are they seriously talking about this now? For once in his life, it'd be nice not to make a moment all about him.

Peevishly, Anders clears his throat and lifts his hands like a referee sending two opposing fighters back to their corners. "As much as I love strolling down a memory lane that only applies to you two--"

He really, really doesn't, if that wasn't already clear.

"Let's stay on point. You," this is directed at Cullen with a pointed look, "have better things to be doing than standing around gabbing with Nathaniel. Like resting before you fall over. You're not convincing anyone, playing the tough guy by getting up and shaking off having an arrow lodged in your flank."

He resolutely avoids catching Nathaniel's eye. It's too early in the morning to be talking about Kirkwall and catastrophes caused by another Anders' hand. Could they please quit talking about him like he's not there?

[morework]

He'd hoped for Nathaniel's opinion on the matter to strengthen his own, one way or another. Instead the man sounds just as undecided, if not more. Cullen looks from Nathaniel to Anders. Still a conversation they've yet to have, then. His eyes wander from one Warden to the other, considers. Something cold and indifferent inside him wants to pry for all the information he could get out of this. But a voice he doesn't feel tells him that this isn't his conversation to force.

(Reminds him that Anders could have taken advantage when his memories were lost, and that he did not. Points plainly at the wound he could have left to bleed out, and did not.)

Cullen's eyes fix Anders silently, but he finally makes himself nod.

"As you say. My room is nearby, I--" He means to leave, and takes the first step. Only standing upright is one thing, and making himself move is another. He swallows. "--might need some help getting there."

He thinks he normally wouldn't ask so readily. He wonders why he does, now. And more than that he looks at Anders expectantly. If the mage wants an out of this conversation, then Cullen will give him an out.

[noble_son]

Nathaniel has learned enough to be entirely unsure of what his opinion is in this matter, but the one thing he is sure of is that the Anders he knows would never do something like blow up a chantry. Certainly not when he knew that people were still inside, even if those people hated him. It isn't a conversation they have had, because the mage avoids the topic and the rogue respects that he has no wish to discuss it, and it isn't a conversation they are about to have right now.

Giving Anders a lesson about how it feels to be talked about as if you're not present can definitely wait for another, more appropriate time.

"I'll accompany you," Nathaniel offers, feeling obliged given that the Templar's weakness is certainly part his own fault. "Thank you, Anders, for your help." While he doesn't add it, he's aware that he now definitely owes Anders a favour.

"I'll make an effort to not have to call you from your bed again any time soon."

[circlejerked]

Huh. Steering them both off the topic had been surprisingly painless--extra surprising in Cullen's case. "Good... Good then. I changed my mind, I think I prefer living in suspense about what happened here. The truth won't be as interesting as my version of events. Which I'm going to share with inquiring minds if anyone asks, just so you know."

Nathaniel bringing up the Kirkwall Chantry (and the death of a Grand Cleric? Had that really happened?) would've been the perfect opportunity for Cullen to take attention away from the foolish manner in which he'd been injured and take a run at Anders instead. The fact that he doesn't catches Anders off guard. He meets Cullen's look with cautious hope. He must be itching to get out of here and forget this whole thing to give up the mage-hunt so easily.

Whatever the reason, Anders isn't about to take the reprieve for granted.

"There are other ways to see me half-dressed, you know," he quips, waving a hand at them. "Go on, Nathaniel, I'll leave it to you. Get out of here before I regret it. I'll clean this up."

[morework]

Cullen turns to leave, leaning on Nathaniel for support. Somewhere the motion of a wrong step makes him groan. Anders' quip does, as well, so at least that suits him. He rolls his eyes to match, and makes for the door.

--But did he say it yet? Cullen thinks back, quickly. Why, he asked; then no, those weren't his first words. Maker, and he's cleaning up the blood, too, and so far those weren't any of his words at all. He feels dull about it. (Wonderland? Blood loss? No matter.) That he didn't say it sooner, or that he needs to say it at all? No matter either, because it needs to be said. He stops.

"Thank you, Anders."

And then he's out the door as fast as Nathaniel's support and his condition will allow, because he'd really rather leave it at that.