A Heavy Heart to Carry - PSL with apostasy

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I was a heavy heart to carry
my beloved was weighed down
my arms around his neck
my fingers laced to crown
I was a heavy heart to carry
but he never let me down
when he held me in his arms
my feet never touched the ground

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A blind terror hits Nathaniel, that after finding such a beautiful and truly great happiness, he is about to lose him. The arrow has pierced through his arm. The only way to get it out is to cut off the end and pull it the rest of the way through, and their attackers are running up to surround them already. But they are not attacking. Their blades and bows are quickly being put away. No, they are not attacking. They are capturing.

But the drug in Anders' system seems to be working back out of it. He'll find himself a little stronger, and that he has the time and mana to make one final push: either to make a massive attack against the oncoming captors, or to heal Nathaniel.

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When he sees that the arrow is going to take a bit more work and that the attackers are stopping, he chooses to attack. It's easier to hit them now that they're standing still. He summons the rest of his strength and calls forth one final attack. Hopefully, Nathaniel will be able to get away if these men go down.

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This time, fueled by will and adrenaline, the lightning hits. Hard. It lances through five men at once, and through them, to the others. Lightning dances in the watering-troths, fire catches in the hay, the horses wail in fear. One would-be captor hits the ground, writhing and twisted, then another. When the lightning stops, the rest follow, and lie there motionless.

Nathaniel blinks at it all through a haze of pain and remembers why so many people are afraid of mages. He struggles to rise, but any and all movement brings incredibly agony with the arrow-shaft still lodged in him.

"Starkhaven," he groans faintly.

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"Go," Anders tries. He wants to tell Nate to leave him, to take care of himself and run, but all he can really get out is that one word before he feels himself losing it completely. He collapses, first falling to his knees and then towards the ground.

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When Anders wakes, he is lying on his side in a boat that pitches fretfully in the water, then bumps hard against something. He will feel a moment after waking that his mana is drained. His hands are bound behind him. A few people nearby are talking quietly. A hand pats Anders on the cheek.

"Wake up," says a woman's voice. "We need you to walk."

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Anders comes too slowly and groggily and then grunts. "No thank you. I'm rather comfortable here," he mutters softly. It's not true, but he's not about to play along with his captors.

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"That's fair," the woman concedes. "But it's not a matter of whether or not we get you where you're going. More a matter of how comfortable you are. And considering what the prince has in store for you, you might want to take comfort where you can get it, while you can."

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Anders rolls his eyes a bit. "You can tell Sebastian exactly where to shove his righteous fury." Then, slowly, he pushes himself up and looks around, trying to see if he sees Nate around or if his lover got away. He is worried, of course, but at the moment he couldn't care as much without knowing better of what was going on.

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Nathaniel is nowhere to be found. The boat has been dragged up on a beach. Across ocean water, there is the sight of a distant, faded land. Amaranthine.

The woman's face darkens and she and lashes out, striking Anders open-handed across one cheek hard enough to snap his head to the side. Then she grabs his chin and makes him look at her. She looks like she's about to say something, but stops, hesitates, and then lets out her breath.

"Waste of time. You're as good as dead. Now walk."

She takes him by the elbow and starts pulling him, none too gently, toward her comrades. There are only three of them; the attackers who infiltrated their home must have mostly been local mercenaries, or died in the initial attack.

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Anders accepts the hit and moves his jaw a bit once the pain of the slap lingers in his face. He doesn't respond to her, because he's more concerned with trying to figure out a way to escape. Usually, he'd rely on Justice but the spirit's lack of presence is very notable now. At least Nathaniel got away... At least he hopes that's the case.

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The other captors fall in behind the woman as they walk along the beach. It's going to be a few miles to Amaranthine, walking along the coast. The boat is left behind.

"We're making good time," she tells her comrades. "We'll sleep aboard the ship tonight. Now you," she says pointedly to Anders, "have no point trying to escape. We'll find you as easily as we did the last time. Won't even have to be quick about it."

They do make good time. They reach Amaranthine before it even gets dark. As his captors converse, Anders gets the impression that these aren't hired thugs, but actual Vael family retainers. The woman, Eliza, was definitely something else before being hired on by the Vaels. What she was becomes fairly clear in little ways--how she seems to herd Anders like a sheepdog, for example. But it become especially obvious the first time she stops and drains Anders of the little mana he has regained, just outside the city.

"Come along," she says crisply afterward, shoving him along the road into town.

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Once he finds out she used to be templar, Anders stops playing along. He refuses to walk now, pretty much sitting where he had been left after he anti-magic had worked over him. He felt very cold, but the righteous anger that would usually have settled over him before when Justice was a part of him wasn't there.

"Ah. It makes sense now. Just how many mages have you abused in your life, hm?"

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"Drag him," Eliza directs the others, who grab Anders by the upper arms and proceed to do just that.

"I don't hurt the innocent. You are not innocent. You'd better be glad I didn't lose anyone when you murdered everyone in that Chantry, or I'd be less restrained. Kick him."

The captor who isn't dragging Anders turns around and lashes out with a boot, landing a kick right in his solar plexus.

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Anders doubled over as the pain of the kick moved through him. He grunted and then spat as he regained control of his body. "And the mages you imprisoned? The ones you kept from freedom? The children you kept from their parents? What about them?" he wasn't making things easy for them, even if they did abuse him, he did what he could to make his body hard to move.

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"What about the children you blew up along with their parents?" Eliza growls. "But keep rambling like that. Show all the passers by how crazy you've become and why you need to be put down."

They are close enough to the city gates now that a few guards are walking toward them. One has taken his helmet off to speak with the templars.

"Ser. Who do you have here?"

"A dangerous criminal," Eliza answers. "We're taking him to Starkhaven to face trial and execution."

"Is he a citizen of Starkhaven?"

"No, but--"

"Was the crime committed in Starkhaven?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Can I see your papers for him?"

Eliza stares at the guard like he grew a second head. "Do you have any idea who this man is?"

The guard looks grim. "This man was a Grey Warden who personally saved many Amaranthine lives, including mine and my family's. And you expect to take him to our ports without paperwork, without addressing a single extradition law of Ferelden, in fact kidnapping him from his own home and grievously wounding his housemate, whose family has been respected in these parts for generations. I don't think you've completely thought this through."

A silence falls dead between them. Eliza glares. The guard glares back.

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That speech from the guard makes Anders pause and consider the man more carefully. His eyes narrow a bit as he isn't sure how this man would have recognized him. Then he mentions the bit about his 'housemate' and he realizes that Nathaniel might be around here. He's quiet for now, though, because he wants to see how this plays out.

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"I'll take him into custody until your extradition paperwork goes through," the local guard says. "Feel free to stay in the city until then."

Eliza takes a deep breath, as if calming herself. There's a faint nod before she looks at the guard. "Acceptable. So long as you swear not to let him go."

"I swear I will not release him until your paperwork comes through."

Eliza nods. The men holding Anders shove him hard toward the Amaranthine guard, who catches him before he can collapse on the ground.

"With me, Ser," he says politely, starting to walk him away from the gate, into the city. Once they are outside of earshot, he resumes. "Captain Aidan, at your service. Do you need medical attention?"

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Anders doesn't relax just yet. He's wary, expecting this to be a trap of some kind. He shakes his head. "Once my magic comes back I can tend to my own needs." He really hates what templars can do to him, the way they can strip him of his Maker-given talent. His voice is a little testy but it's not directed at the guard so much as the situation.

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Aidan turns Anders down a new street. "You'll need to get out of town before the lady learns her Fereldan extradition laws a little better."

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Anders smiles a bit at that. He's still wary, but he feels reassured if they're bad mouthing templars. "Her kind could learn a lot about many things."

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"You haven't asked about Ser Howe." Aidan sounds slightly judgmental there.

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Anders brow narrows a bit. "I understand you might be trying to help, but I'm afraid that I don't know you. I assume if he's here, you'll take me to him, but I'm not about to volunteer any information about my lover to a stranger."

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"You don't remember me." Well, it was more than a decade ago. "It's all right. I remember."

He stops in front of a small house and nods toward the door.

"He's in there."

A shutter opens. A black-haired boy of about ten years peers out, then seems to be hastily pulled away and the shutters closed.

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Anders pauses for a moment and considers the man. He nods a bit. He'll have to remember to thank this man properly if this isn't a trap but he's still a little too wary to relax fully. "Thank you," he does manage to say, though, before pulling away to see about getting into the house.

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The door opens at his touch. Delilah Howe ushers him inside quickly and closes the door.

"Sorry we had to meet this way," she says quietly. "I'm Delilah. I'm Nathaniel's sister."