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Taren watched the receding backs of the Templars with low brows and firmly set shoulders. The Templar commander looked over her shoulder and met their eyes, the two exchanging a fierce glare before she looked away. Taren knew enough about Templars to know that this was likely far from over, but for the moment at least it was not a concern. With a sigh, they turned back towards the Keep, following behind Varel and the others. There was much work to be done, even not accounting for the attack and the new recruits.
Anders, a little ahead of them, caught Taren’s eye and slowed his pace to walk beside them. “I’d be lying if I said this is how I saw today going,” he admitted with a grin.
Taren chuckled. “You’re not the only one. Lucky for you that those Darkspawn attacked when they did, eh?”
“Luckier that you didn’t let those Templars apprehend me,” he countered, his smirk tilting sideways. “Thanks, by the way.”
Blinking at him, Taren smiled awkwardly. “You really think I would have done that?”
Anders shrugged. “I mean, you stuck your neck out for me, in front of the King no less, and probably made an enemy of the entire Templar order. That woman has been after me for months, I doubt she’ll give up now.”
“I agree.” Taren nodded. “We’ll have to be on guard for when she eventually tries something.”
Chewing on his lip, Anders was silent for a moment as he considered them. “Why’d you do it?”
Their brow furrowing slightly, Taren tilted their head curiously. “What do you mean?”
“I was a right ass in the Circle, and not just to the Templars. I burned more bridges than I crossed, and I crossed quite a few.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m sure plenty of folks who knew me would have thrown me to the wolves rather than deal with the fallout.”
“You’re right. You were an ass,” Taren agreed quickly.
Anders rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
The tables turned, and now it was Taren studying Anders. He had been awful in the Circle, his mind always on his desire to escape from it and, when that wasn’t an option, being as disruptive as possible. He had stolen, lied, cheated, and broken more than a few hearts. Despite all that, however, Taren had admired his spirit. It would have been more accurate to say that they had harbored a childhood crush on the older mage well into late adolescence, but that didn’t seem like information he needed.
“But being an unrepentant ass doesn’t mean you deserve to be hanged, or Maker forbid, made Tranquil.” They shuddered at the thought, and saw the movement echoed in Anders’ shoulders.
"I don't know that everyone would agree with you," Anders pointed out. "I made plenty of people's lives miserable in my own way."
Taren chuckled. "You certainly were one to leave an impression. I guess it's just lucky that you left a good one on me."
He tilted his head, an intrigued gleam in his eyes. "How did I do that?"
They grinned. "Well, it was mostly that time in the library, after you set Irving's curtains on fire." Their smile wilted slightly as Anders stared at them in confusion. "Do you not remember?"
Anders had the decency to look embarrassed. "I remember setting the curtains on fire, certainly, and running for a place to hide and…" his words drifted off as he followed the train of recollection and a flush came to his cheeks. "Maker, that was you?"
Taren tried not to feel put out that he didn’t remember the event with the same clarity that they did. They had been studying with Jowan when Anders had come tearing into the library looking for an escape, for a viable alibi for the crime he had just committed. It had been by chance that they had been the only people around, and happenstance that Taren had been in closer proximity to his entrance, they knew that. None of that changed the fact that the feeling of Anders bending them back over the work table, his lips pressed against theirs and his hands in their hair, was a memory seared into their mind.
Taren flushed at the memory as well, though not in embarrassment. “That was me,” they admitted, trying not to sound hurt. "We both got written up, but Irving never could prove who burned the curtains."
“Andraste’s knickers, I am so sorry,” Anders murmured. “That was… I was just trying to get out of trouble, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you probably shouldn’t have,” Taren jumped in. “Jowan nearly had a heart attack, I think. I—I didn’t really mind though.” They felt their flush spreading up their ears.
Anders looked dumbfounded for a moment, then his lips quirked up in a smirk. “You didn’t?”
Taren shook their head, awkwardly rubbing the back of their neck. “No, not at all actually.”
Chuckling, Anders stepped slightly closer to them, his arm brushing theirs as they walked. “That’s twice you’ve saved me from the Templars, then.”
“I guess it is,” Taren agreed, their heart suddenly pounding in their throat. They felt stupid and childish being so flustered. They had gathered an army, defeated the archdemon, and saved Ferelden, and yet attention from Anders was sending them reeling and blushing.
Anders dropped his voice a little, as if they might be overheard. “Seems like the kind of thing that is due some recompense.”
Taren’s mouth felt uncomfortably dry, and they swallowed heavily to wet it. “That’s not necessary, you know. I didn’t do it for any kind of reward.”
“All the more reason you deserve it,” Anders murmured. After a moment, he stepped back from them again, smiling cheerfully. “If you’re interested, obviously. I’d understand if I’ve made you uncomfortable enough for one lifetime.”
A shaky, surprised laugh slipped from Taren’s lungs. Unexpected. Maybe Anders had grown up in the time since Taren had known him, or maybe they had had the wrong impression of him while in the tower. He could have been a great liar, but considering how often he failed to avoid trouble, Taren doubted it, and he sounded sincere. Looking at him, they felt a stupid smile threatening to overcome their expression.
Anders’ smile shifted to embarrassment again as the silence stretched out between them. “I’ve said something wrong, haven’t I?”
“No,” Taren laughed, their shoulders relaxing. “Not at all, I’m just a bit of a mess. It’s been an… unusual day.”
Holding his hands up, Anders shook his head. “Forget I said anything, other than, ‘Thanks,’ I mean. You don’t need my mess on top of yours.”
His phrasing made Taren flush again, their ears going bright red.
They cleared their throat. “If I was… interested,” Taren hedged. “I mean, I’d only be interested if you were interested, so if you’re not interested I’m definitely not, but if I was—” embarrassed rambling spilled from their mouth, stopping as Anders put a hand on their shoulder.
“If you were, I suppose my being a Warden would mean we’d have plenty of time to get reacquainted,” he offered, grinning. “Suppose if I was interested, I’d be pretty open to that.”
Taren swallowed. “Would… would you be open to that?”
Anders laughed. “I think I would.”
“Great…” Taren murmured in a daze, the stupid smile they had felt coming on before emerging in full force.
“Think we should get inside, Warden-Commander?” Anders asked teasingly, nudging them forward.
Taren shook themself, clearing the dreamy fog from their head. “Right.” They skipped up the stairs to the Keep’s doors, then turned back to look down at Anders with a hopeful grin. “By the way, you’re welcome.”