Title: A moment to relax
Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: T
Length: 1,125 words
Content notes: Drug-use.
Author notes: Written for the ‘leaf’ challenge in fan_flashworks. Takes place in Act 1 of DA2.
Summary: Anders introduces Sara to one of the other uses for elfroot.

***

“You know,” Anders said, “there is another use for elfroot.”

Anders had asked Sara to come by the clinic near closing time, and she had waited until the last patients had been sent on their way. There were none resident in the clinic tonight – no one had injuries severe enough that they needed Anders’ constant attention – and Anders seemed in a buoyant mood.

“Oh?” Sara said, responding to his enthusiasm with a broad smile. “What’s that?”

“Well,” he said, leading her into the small room at the back of his clinic, “It’s usually too expensive outside of the Circles – but with the sources of elfroot you’ve found, I think we could indulge.”

Sara wasn’t sure what had lifted Anders’ mood today, except perhaps the absence of any obvious tragedy in Darktown, but she was enjoying it. He seemed years younger when he smiled.

“Sounds good,” she said.

He opened a drawer in the small desk to pull out a long wooden pipe, then took down an unlabelled bottle from the shelves above the desk and sat down on the cot. He unscrewed the jar and began crushing the leaves and adding them to the bowl of the pipe. Sara sat down next to him and watched him with curiosity.

“I haven’t done this since I left the Circle,” Anders said, with a giddy sort of wonder in his voice. “It wasn’t strictly allowed, but the Senior Enchanters didn’t ask too many questions if some of the elfroot we used for our lessons went missing. They knew we had to escape somehow.”

He packed the leaves into the bowl.

“You haven’t tried this before?” he asked, and Sara shook her head.

“No, but I could have used some way to escape myself from time to time,” she said.

Anders called fire to his fingertips and lit the leaves in the bowl of the pipe. He put the other end to his lips, breathed in, and then breathed out the smoke from it with a sigh.

“Here,” he said, offering her the pipe, “Have a try.”

Sara took the pipe and, copying what Anders had done, put it to her lips and inhaled. Smoke filled her lungs, and she coughed it back out, her eyes tearing up.

“What’s it meant to do?” she said, smoke spilling out of her mouth as she spoke. She made to give the pipe back to Anders, but he shook his head.

“Try again,” he said. “It can take some getting used to.”

He laid back on the cot with his hands behind his head. Sara looked at the pipe, put it to her lips, and tried again. She breathed the smoke out without coughing this time, but she didn’t think it was having the effect Anders’ clearly expected.

“I’m not sure this is working,” she said.

“Give it some time,” he said.

She looked at Anders lying on the cot. He looked comfortable. She lay down next to him and handed him the pipe. This time, he accepted it from her, and inhaled from it.

“You know, I haven’t had a moment to relax since I came to Kirkwall,” he said, the smoke curling out of his mouth. “Between the patients and Karl…” he trailed off. “We used to do this too,” he said. He lifted the pipe for Sara to take, and the backs of their hands touched as they met in mid-air.

Sara was starting to feel relaxed herself. She felt a little like she was floating on the cot, in a warm and gently rocking sea. She took another draw from the long pipe and breathed the smoke back out, fascinated by the patterns it made in the air.

“I can see why you like this,” she said. The weight of her family’s future, her mother’s expectations, seemed not to matter as much under the influence of the smoke. It wasn’t that they were gone, or forgotten; they just seemed lighter, less oppressive. She gave the pipe back to Anders.

“Mmmm,” Anders hummed, as he put it back to his lips. Sara turned her head to the side to watch him. He had his eyes closed, one hand still behind his head, and a small smile on his lips as he pulled the pipe away to exhale the smoke. “It’s much better than the ale at the Hanged Man.”

“Did you do this often back in the Circle?”

“Not too often,” Anders said. “But Karl had some special privileges we occasionally made use of. Like access to the herb storage.” He handed the pipe back.

“Were you and Karl… together?” she asked, after she took another draw.

“Yes,” Anders said after a moment. He was silent for a long moment more, then added, “Though it was a couple of years ago now.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t make what happened any easier,” Sara said.

“It doesn’t,” Anders said. A tear leaked from the corner of Anders’ eye that Sara could see, trailing down his cheek until it dripped onto the threadbare blankets on the cot between them. “If only I could have left the Wardens earlier, gotten here sooner, maybe I could have done something.”

Sara didn’t know what to say to that. Would have getting here earlier made any difference? She suspected not. But the pain of thinking that something could have been done if only, if only… She knew that all too well. She blindly reached out for his hand and took hold of it. She gave it a squeeze, trying to convey something of her sympathy.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now,” she said.

Anders covered his eyes with his other hand.

“In Kirkwall, of all places,” he said, and laughed.

His laughter was infectious. Though it may have been bitter at first, it started Sara giggling, which then set Anders off again, this time with a lighter tone. They kept giggling and swapping the pipe until the leaves had burnt all the way down.

Sara propped herself up on her elbow to look at Anders. “You know, I don’t even know why we were laughing,” she said.

“The ludicrousness of life,” Anders said. “It deserves to be laughed at every so often, otherwise it might get pretensions.” He tapped the pipe out onto the ground beside his cot then turned to look at her, suddenly serious again. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “I think I needed that.”

Sara smiled. “My pleasure,” she said. She fought back the urge to sway forward and kiss his elfroot smoke-flavoured lips. Instead, she sat up and swung her feet off the cot. “Let me know if you ever want to burn more of the green stuff,” she said, her tone flippant, and left him to rest.