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Chapter Text

Hawke woke up that morning to sunlight and a weird feeling that something was wrong. The bedroom window was open, and a gentle wind fluttered the curtains framing it. The other side of the bed was still warm, so Anders must have woken up not too long ago. Hawke shook his head slightly to rid the feeling of dizziness and got up.

Bethany was in the kitchen cooking, and she greeted Hawke warmly when he entered the room.

“You decided to get up finally, eh? Me and mother have been up for hours cleaning and cooking and decorating. Anders and father left for the chantry just a little while ago.”

“The chantry? What for?” Hawke asked, confused.

“What for? Are you even awake yet, you big oaf”, Bethany laughed. “To speak to the revered mother obviously, to make sure everything is ready for the big day tomorrow.”

Hawke nearly spat out the water he had been drinking. Of course! The wedding! How the hell had he forgotten. He could never let Anders know that he had forgotten about their wedding the literal day before. He would never hear the end of it. His realization must have been clear on his face, and Bethany was looking at him quizzically.

“Why didn’t they wake me up? Surely I should be there and not father?”

“Anders said you looked too peaceful and he didn’t dare to wake you up.” Bethany sighed wistfully. “He is so romantic, I don’t know how you managed to score him.”

“Hey Bethany, did you know you’re little shi-”

“Yes yes, I know. You should probably rush after them, they didn’t leave too long ago. Father was absolutely ecstatic about getting to walk his eldest son down the aisle tomorrow. He will make both Anders and the revered mother lose their minds if you aren’t there to rein him in.”

Hawke was out of the door by the time Bethany finished speaking. She stared after him with an affectionate smile before shaking her head and returning to the task at hand.

***

The day was perfect. Sunlight streaming through the trees in the forest, birds singing, early summer flowers blooming. The whole world was dressed in bright, light green. Hawke closed his eyes and took in the sunlight with a content sigh. If tomorrow was going to turn out as good, the wedding would be a great success. Not that he wouldn’t marry Anders in a thunderstorm or a blizzard or literal fire raining down from the sky… Hawke chuckled. Maybe that was not so likely. He half-ran through the rest of the short forest path that lead from the Hawke farm to the centre of Lothering.

Hawke saw the Lothering chantry standing tall above the other buildings of the town. The sight made him a bit uneasy somehow. He was filled with a similar feeling of… Wrongness that he had felt when he woke up. They had hidden their family’s disposition fairly well these past years, and if there were villagers who knew, they did not comment on it, feeling grateful for the help Malcolm Hawke offered everyone in need. If that help was a bit magical, what of it? Anders joining the family with his considerable healing skills definitely didn’t do any harm. But still. A wedding in the chantry in clear daylight between an apostate and an apostate’s son seemed very bold. Why would they want to put their family in danger like that?

“What’s got you in such deep thought, gorgeous?”

Hawke looked up to see Anders smiling at him radiantly and all thoughts vanished from his head. Anders looked so young and happy. When had his hair gotten that long? It was reaching his shoulders in soft blond waves. Hawke lifted his hand and tucked a runaway strand back behind Anders’ ear. Anders’ eyes softened and he leaned in to kiss Hawke gently.

“Your father is inside, driving the revered mother mad with his questions. He is absolutely certain something is going to go wrong tomorrow unless he has a backup plan for everything. He is almost more eager to hear you say your vows than I am.”

“I should probably go in and save the poor woman before she refuses to marry us.” Hawke hesitated for a moment but then decided to voice what had been bothering him. “Did you have any trouble concealing your… identity? I know we have a good situation here, but this wedding might be pushing it a little.”

Anders looked confused.

“Are you trying to get out of this or what is going on?”

“No! Absolutely not. I’m just concerned you know. An apostate and an apostate’s son getting married in a chantry of all places…”

“The revered mother knows, Hawke. You know that. She would never turn us in to the templars. She is a great and just woman.”

Hawke felt the weird feeling tugging at his mind again. He should have known that. Knowing that should have calmed him. But hearing Anders speak like that of a representative of the Chantry confused him. It felt wrong. Why would Anders want to get married in the Chantry anyway? He hated the Chantry! He was an apostate who had run away from the Circle seven times.

Anders stepped towards him.

“Are you alright my love? You shouldn’t worry so much. It’s going to be alright.”

“I’m sorry. Today has felt so wrong somehow. I’m not myself.”

“Oh love. It’s alright, I promise.” Anders turned to look at the chantry door. “Look, there they come.”

Hawke followed his gaze and saw the revered mother and his father coming out to the sunlight. Malcolm Hawke was tall and looked remarkably like his eldest son, the only one to inherit his blond hair. Hawke remembered his mother tugging it behind his ear while crying. But why was she crying? Right, it had been a funeral. Suddenly he felt like the ground was moving away from him, like he was falling into a hole that suddenly opened up in the ground. The funeral! It had been his father’s funeral! What was going on? Where was he? He felt panic rushing into his brain.

“Anders, what is going on? My father is dead!”

Anders looked at him emptily, and his father’s look-alike was still walking towards him. Hawke felt sick.

“Anders please! Tell me what is going on? How is this possible? Where am I?” He was shaking Anders now and suddenly Anders looked horrified.

“Hawke…”

“Please, you have to help me! Help me! What is happening?” Hawke turned to the man who so resembled Malcolm Hawke and suddenly he was no longer there. The Chantry, Lothering and Anders disappeared and he was in the darkness.

Chapter Text

“Please, you have to help me! Help me! What is happening?”

Anders jolted awake, feeling his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing to his brain. He breathed in short, laboured gasps, feeling nauseated and sweaty. The bed was drenched and he had kicked off the covers. He held his head in his hands, trying to parse together what had happened in the dream. Hawke’s words were ringing in his ears. You have to help me!

It was not that dreams of Hawke were unknown to him. Since the events of Kirkwall some years ago, his and Justice’s relationship had… shifted, and for the first time in years Anders had seen dreams other than Grey Warden nightmares. Many of them were nightmares about Hawke leaving, Hawke killing him, Hawke’s weary and resigned face looking at him, with Kirkwall chantry burning in the background… But these dreams were different. They had been recurring for few weeks now, and they always went roughly the same way. First he was floating in his dream, looking outside in when someone, usually himself, and Hawke were talking. Often he and Hawke were living together, or Hawke was with his family, or, once, with a family he and Anders had built. Then, suddenly, he was facing Hawke, who was panicking and begging for help. Then the dream would end.

He had been following Hawke’s dealings for the past few years. It had not been easy, since Hawke had been very decidedly hiding from the entire world. Anders had known, however, that Varric would not have let him simply disappear off the face of the earth. Luckily Varric still used the same methods and encryptions in his messages as in his Kirkwall times, and Anders had figured those out back then in case he needed information for the Mage Underground. If Varric wanted to contact Hawke, he would simply send the same encrypted message to all his contacts around Thedas, and Hawke would pick it up wherever he was. That meant Anders had only ever Varric’s letters to read, but at least he had the knowledge that Hawke was out the somewhere, alive and living his life. Even if he would never be part of that life again.

Varric’s last letter had been concerning. His movements had been easy to follow in the past years, and Varric had made little effort to hide them. Varric send Hawke letters about the Seeker who had come to Kirkwall to find the Champion, and then about joining the movement the woman had been setting up. The Inquisition. News coming from that front were increasingly strange and sometimes horrifying, but at least something was being done to stop the huge hole in the sky from spreading. The Inquisition had also surprised Anders by allying with the mages, a choice he had thought impossible for a Chantry organization. The Inquisition was fine, as long as it didn’t require Hawke to risk himself again for the greater good.

But now, apparently, it had done just so. In his letter Varric had been asking for Hawke’s help, because the blasted Inquisition had managed to bring up Corypheus from his grave. Maybe it was not their fault, but why had they forced Hawke back into the middle of danger? And now these dreams. He didn’t know what to do.

Before he set off the explosioin in the Kirkwall Chantry, Anders had been resigned to the fate of dying to atone for his actions. In a way it had felt like a relief. After all his struggle he finally got to put down his burden. Only thing he regretted was that he could not live old together with Hawke, but that life had never really been in the cards for him. Not even before Justice, but definitely not after it. So death it was. Or so he had thought. Hawke however had refused to kill him, even when all his friends save Merrill had been either for it or could not have cared less. Fenris would have surely been happy to see the Abomination put down. But Hawke had refused and had let him go.

Part of him had wanted to laugh when that happened. Go. Go where? He was as good as dead. Even Justice in his head was quiet. He had dragged himself through the fighting in the city, and to the mountainside, where he had simply settled down to die. Unfortunately the death had not come. In fact it seemed like Anders’ body insisted on living on. He had gotten hungry, and tired, and most awfully, he had gotten bored. It had felt ridiculous. He had no right to live, and he had been ready to die, but when the push came to shove, he had not been able to go through with it. Instead he had gotten up and started walking.

He had spent months in the outskirts of the city, surviving by hunting and gathering and sometimes scavenging the remains of mages or templars for coin to buy something. He didn’t venture into Kirkwall, only farms and the tiniest of villages by the coast. Only rarely had he been recognized, usually by mages, and very rarely by templars. He had killed some, without feeling much anything but faint relief that he was still alive. It was a strange thing, the desire to live on even when you had hit the rock bottom and had nothing to live for.

The first winter had caused some trouble, but he had found an abandoned cottage on the Sundermount slopes and survived the winter months there. He had not lost only Justice, but, Anders had felt, his ability to feel much anything. Still he was unable to die either. So he had lived on. Without Justice’s presence he had also felt strangely detached from the mage-templar conflict. He had used his magic as little as possible. It had felt like an inflamed part of his body, one that should have been amputated. He had absently wondered if he had somehow accidentally been made Tranquil.

After months of this, he had started feeling something again. Anders wished his first feeling would have been horror or satisfaction at his own actions, or guilt, or anything, but the feeling had actually been frustration. Frustration of failing to fix the door on his sad little shack. The next feeling had been faint amusement at his pathetic self. After that his ability to feel things had slowly returned, like a tide turning. The last to return had been the nearly comforting presence of Justice.

Justice had changed. Or maybe it was Anders who had changed. He had told the truth to Hawke in Lowtown after the explosion. He and Justice were not two separate entities anymore, they were one person. After Justice returned, he – or they? – had gone through the events of that night again and again. Was it justified? Was the end result what he had wanted? Was the death of the innocents worth it to prevent the oppression of all mages? And was that oppression going to end? Anders had felt satisfaction, and he had felt guilt, and horror and sometimes a sort of joy to see the templars having to face what they had done throughout the years. He had wondered if he should turn himself in for some sort of atonement and justice, he had tried to pick his brain to feel what Justice would have thought, but he had been unable to reach a conclusion.

The truth was, it was like he didn’t know what justice was anymore. They didn’t know. After working single-mindedly towards a purpose that had seemed so clear, so justified, seeing its results was confusing. They were so muddled and unclear, no great redemption and liberation. Justice had not been able to understand grey areas of life before, its morality having been purely black and white. But now it didn’t seem so clear anymore. They had changed. Anders wondered absently what Hawke would have said about that. He had always believed Anders could learn to control the spirit, but he could not. He was Justice. Justice was Anders. And in the years after the explosion, they had both had to come to terms with that. Justice was not simple. His anger was justified but it was not Justice.

So parts of his brain told him that he should die, and that it was justice, but in the end they had been beaten out by parts that harbored that intense, ridiculous desire to live. He had realized, however, that he could not stay still and detached forever. He could do small things. Things that had immediate consequences. It was not just that he was a healer who wasted his talent when so many people suffered. So he had started helping again, first by healing, and then sometimes by helping mages who ended up lost and directionless near where he stayed. He had kept low profile, distancing himself decidedly from Anders the Apostate, never making contact with people for too long. It was not perfect, and he knew he couldn’t keep it up forever, but for the last years, it had been good enough. He moved often, around the Free Marches, but usually always ended up returning to the outskirts of Kirkwall.

And that’s where he was now. In his little cottage, on the hills of Sundermount. It was full autumn, the days were getting colder, but it was beautiful outside, with the trees full of colour. Wintertime would see no snow in most of the Free Marches, like it did in Ferelden, just heavy rains and slightly colder, humid weather. The only snow to be had was high up in the mountains. Anders had thought he would spend the winter here, same as for the last four years, but now things had changed. He lifted his head and realized he had been sitting in his bed thinking for some time. Cold morning light was starting to spill into the back of the cottage that formed his bedroom. He knew his decision was made. He had to find out if Hawke was okay. The last letter had been sent months ago. He would not approach him, he didn’t want to cause him any more pain, ever. But he had to know, and the only person who would know what Hawke was up to was Varric.

Chapter Text

Varric pinched his nose and looked down at the letter in front of him. He had wished it would have disappeared while his eyes were closed, but unfortunately it was still there. Maybe he should just burn it and pretend this was not happening.

The month after Hawke was lost in the Fade had gone in a haze. Varric had been drinking and throwing himself into work for the Inquisition, trying to pretend he had not lost his best friend, the man that was dearer to him than his own brother had ever been, who he had loved, defended and lied for. The pain had not been eased by the fact that he was surrounded by people he wouldn’t exactly call friends. The uptight Seeker, the mysterious and cold spymaster, the dumb blonde of a templar who was supposed to be their military commander, and the various other strange folk who made up the Inquisition were not his friends, not really, and after the Fade he didn’t really know what he was doing here. Serving the strange, sullen girl they called the Inquisitor in a fight against a world destroying madman felt a lot less tempting when the cost was so personal, raw and painful.

He had written Daisy, and her reply had been the only thing keeping him sane. Merrill had promised to break the news to Aveline and poor Bethany, who had not seen her brother in years, and even suggested she come to Ferelden to take care of him, even though she must have been just as broken up as he was. Varric had declined, but it had felt good knowing he still had at least one real friend left in the world.

The contents of the letter in front of him, however, were far less heart-warming and helpful. It was from his editor and bookseller in Kirkwall who was also, more discreetly, working as his spy.

20^th of Kingsway

Kirkwall

Dear Mr. Tethras,

I approach you with some worrying news. I had a visitor in my shop, who most curiously knew about my, I beg your pardon, more sensitive line of work. He was insistent that I write to you and inform you that he will be waiting to see you in the inn located by the crossroads near Skyhold in a week or so. According to his travel plans he should reach the village on 1^st of Harvestmere, should he avoid any unexpected disruptions on his journey.

I tried to press him for more details, but he refused to share any. In fact he seemed prepared for such line of questioning, and showed remarkable talent at evasion and arts of escaping. His methods were… Arcane. He did let slip that he is interested in a mutual friend, one who enjoys a certain notoriety around here.

He tried to cover himself throughout the meeting, but I would wager he was about 6 feet 3 inches tall, give or take an inch, with strawberry blonde hair, ragged beard and amber-coloured eyes with brownish specks on them. His complexion was pale with dark circles around his eyes, and he carried himself with an air of distrust and resignation. I apologize for the lack of details, but the situation was rather tense and that was all I managed to catch.

I hope the situation will be handled smoothly. Should you require any further assistance from my part, you only need to ask.

Respectfully yours,

Varkas Saelmas

Blondie. Varric should have known he would find out somehow. Was it Daisy? No, he doubted even Daisy talked with the man, no matter how kind-hearted she was. What did he want? If he knew, was he here to blame Varric for Hawke’s loss? Like he would dare, considering all he had done. Varric had considered skipping the meeting, or sending someone else, or just burning down the whole inn, people inside be damned, but that had seemed more like Anders’ line of action. In the end he had to accept his fate and go. But he sure as hell wasn’t going alone. Only thing was, who could he take to meet his ex-friend, and current mass murderer on the run, who had also had a hand in starting this whole damn war?

***

Anders was sitting at a corner table in the inn, which had probably quite recently been renamed as the Inquisitor’s Hand, and waited. He had waited the whole day yesterday with no sign of Varric, and he was starting to worry he would have to risk it and enter the fortress, when the inn door opened and a certain dwarf swaggered in. Varric was flanked by a massive Qunari man who was wearing an imposing looking eyepatch, and a mage with an impressively sleek mustache and an outfit that left his other arm suggestively bare. At least it was more than what the Qunari was wearing, not to even mention Varric and his chest hair.

Varric noticed Anders and his expression soured. He looked both pitying and angry and, for the slightest moment, incredibly pained. A dreadful fear settled in Anders’ stomach. Varric said something to his companions and then made his way to Anders alone.

“Blondie. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Varric. You probably know why I’m here.”

Varric hesitated a little, and that all but confirmed Anders that something awful had happened. The dwarf never hesitated.

“Please, no matter how you feel about me, you have to tell me. Is he alright? Is he here?”

“Blondie, I…” Varric tried to speak but nothing came out. Anders begged that he was wrong, but he had to ask.

“He is dead, isn’t he? Is that what you can’t say?”

Slowly, Varric nodded, and Anders felt like throwing up. He almost didn’t hear what Varric said next. Suddenly he couldn’t see and it took him a heartbeat to realize he was crying.

“We were on a mission, and we ended up in the Fade. Physically. He… He sacrificed himself so rest of us could get out.”

“Why didn’t you stop him? Had he not done enough? Why did you let him come? Why did you ask him to come? Why? You knew better than anyone that he deserved rest, that he deserved… He deserved…”

“Yes Blondie, why don’t you lecture me on what he deserved? You, of all fucking people! Maybe a lover who didn’t hold his damned cause as more important than him? Did it ever occur to you what it would do to him? I had to see a man I considered my fucking brother lose all purpose in life and now this. No wonder he was so self-sacrificing, when he had already lost almost everything he loved!”

Anders flinched like he had been hit. Varric was right. He had no right to say anything, when maybe none of this would have happened if he had just. Just done something right in his damned life. If he had been more help to Hawke, if he had not been so damnably selfish. Anders was still crying when he heard Varric get up.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I wish you had never even met Hawke. Just go.”

Varric turned to go.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“You said that he was left behind. In the Fade. Did he… Did you see him die?”

Varric frowned. “No, but it was him alone against a gigantic demon. Besides, like I said, he is in there. Physically. Not dreaming.”

“How did you even get there?”

“It was the Inquisitor. She has some freaky powers. She opened a rift to save us from being crushed to pieces by a huge-ass dragon.”

“Why can’t she open another one and go save him?”

“She is not really handling the power well. It was a life or death situation. Instinct. Mostly she just closes rifts.”

“But couldn’t she…”

“Quit it, Blondie. Don’t you think I have asked all this? Don’t you think I would have saved him if I could?”

With that Varric turned and marched out, with his two odd companions falling to step behind him.

***

Anders was lying on the small and hard bed of the inn and thinking. Moon shone in from the tiny round window in the ceiling.

“Don’t you think I would have saved him if I could?” But could you have saved him Varric? You don’t have magic. Your Inquisitor is a girl with no control over her powers. But the Inquisitor’s hand was not the only way to enter the Fade physically. It had been done. And remember what it caused, his mind unhelpfully reminded him. The first Blight. But it didn’t matter. Varric might have saved Hawke if he could, but Anders could do better. He would save Hawke. No matter what. Tevinter magisters might have needed to kill a few hundred slaves to enter the Fade, but why should Anders care? He was already a murderer. Anders laughed humourlessly.

But maybe it wasn’t necessary. The thing was, rifts were all around right now. And in the Fade he would probably have help from a certain someone. He would manage that. He would save Hawke, if only because he knew he could not continue living if he didn’t. With newfound conviction Anders drifted off to a light sleep. I would drown us in blood to keep you safe. He would.

Chapter Text

The Kirkwall alienage had changed little since Anders last saw it four years ago. The large tree, Vhenadahl, was decorated with paints and surrounded by piles and piles of fallen leaves. He could see some children playing, but they stopped and ran away with their bare feet slapping against the stones when they noticed Anders approaching. It was the middle of Harvestmere soon, but the weather in Kirkwall was still warm enough. Anders wasn’t sure if elves ever wore shoes though. Merrill certainly didn’t.

Anders was knocking on Merrill’s door when it occurred to him that Merrill might not even live here anymore. She had planned on helping the Alienage elves after the death of the Keeper of her clan and her subsequent banishment, but that was years ago. But if she was not here, maybe someone in the Alienage could point him to the right direction. Yes, because all elves obviously know each other. Idiot.

Anders didn’t have to worry for long, because almost immediately after he had knocked, the door was opened and there Merrill was, bare-feet and short as ever. Anders swallowed. Meeting Varric had been one thing, but this was maybe worse. Merrill had been the only one to defend him after what he had done, and somehow Anders resented her for it. Why was she so forgiving and kind, when he had been nothing short of awful to her?

Merrill stood in the doorway, blinking, and when Anders didn’t say anything, she finally opened her mouth.

“Hello Anders. How good to see you. After all this time. You look very healthy. I suppose.” She cringed visibly at her own words and Anders could see why. He looked like hell.

“Would you like to come in? I haven’t cleaned in a while though. Well, I never do. It just seems useless, seeing things will just get dirty again. I always have better things to do.”

Anders followed Merrill inside and sat down by the small table. His knees kept knocking against the table and he felt large and clumsy in this tiny house. Merrill babbled on about her day until Anders interrupted.

“Merrill. I’m here to talk to you. About… About Hawke.”

At that Merrill finally stopped fidgeting and sat down opposite to Anders.

“Oh Anders. I’m so sorry. I should have thought of you, of course, when Varric wrote. I only told Aveline and Bethany and send letters to Isabela and Fenris. Although I’m not sure he reads my letters. Or if they even reach him. But I hope he does. He often comes by Kirkwall, but never visits me. I miss everybody being here. It has been lonely and I –”

“Stop, Merrill, I… I don’t deserve your kindness.”

Merrill seemed like she wanted to say something, but Anders kept going.

“I’m not here to beg for kindness or forgiveness. But I am here to ask for your help. I want to save Hawke. From the Fade.”

***

It took a long while to explain to Merrill what he had been planning, and to convince her that it might actually work. In his mind it had been so simple. They would open the rift fully with an old Tevinter ritual, hopefully not requiring human sacrifice when the Veil was already so thin. Merrill would keep the rift open with her blood magic, while Anders waltzed in, saved Hawke, and returned the same way. Varric hadn’t told him where exactly Hawke had been lost, but Anders trusted that he would find him in the Fade. Distances and time were different there.

“It might work. Yes, I think it could. I have done something similar, not to enter Fade physically of course, but yes. It might work.”

“You think so?”

“It would not have been possible before the rifts, and definitely not without you being, well, an abomination. But with Justice you have a part of you that will be pulling you into the Fade.” Merrill looked thoughtful. “If I can keep the Veil open with our blood, you should be able to get back…”

“But what about Hawke? Would we need his blood?”

“I think blood from someone he is closely related to should do. I’m more worried about how I’ll be able to keep up the opening. If I break it too early, I imagine Justice would be left behind in the Fade, but you… If we bind a part of you on the outside, closing the rift too early might cause your blood to try to… leave your body. That would not be pleasant, I’m afraid.”

Anders shuddered, but he had made his decision. “So, you will help me?”

“Of course I will. I could never abandon Hawke, after all he has done to me. He was my first real friend in Kirkwall. He was always so kind to me and…” Merrill’s eyes filled with tears but she smiled at the same time. “I was just thinking of all the trouble Hawke got us into. And how annoyed Aveline and Fenris would be and how Varric would just laugh and how good that was.”

“Right.” Anders had tried to avoid thinking back to Hawke’s friends, not like they ever were his, and he sure as hell didn’t want to take a trip down the memory line right now.

“So, what we need –“

“We need help”, Merrill interrupted him. “We can’t do this on our own. I’m going to need someone with me if I am to keep the rift open for a long time. All sorts of spirits might come through, and I need to use all the power I get from my blood for the spell. I imagine the Tevinter magisters simply kept killing more slaves to visit the Fade for prolonged periods of time, but I don't think we would want to do that.”

Would we not? If it was for Hawke? Anders shook his head. No. Hawke wouldn’t want that.

“Yes, I hadn’t thought of that. But who can we ask for? Varric’s not here, and I would rather not give Bethany false hope.” In truth Anders had not even been able to consider that this might fail, but bringing Bethany in felt like it would dramatically increase the chances of everything going sideways. He didn’t know why. “Aveline is also out of the question.”

Merrill smiled. “Well, there is one more person.”

***

“No”, Fenris said, and tried to close the door to a house he was staying at. Unfortunately for him, Anders and Merrill had barricaded themselves in the doorway. “I am not helping you. Get out of here.”

“But Fenris…”

“How did you even find me?”

“It was easier than you might think, actually. I usually check in on you when you come to town. And there aren’t too many grumpy lyrium-marked elves one might mix you up with. Well, there was this one Antivan once, but –“

“Doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’m not helping you. Get out and take the abomination with you.”

“But Fenris.” Merrill looked crestfallen. That didn’t move Fenris, and Anders’ pained look moved him even less. He was about to push them out by force, when Merrill continued. “It’s about Hawke.”

Well, damn. Fenris narrowed his eyes, trying to come up with a way to get out of this. Damned Hawke, bothering him from beyond the grave. He sighed and opened the door more. “Fine. Come in. But be quick.”

Merrill bounced happily and Fenris thought about pulling back his invitation. He walked further into the abandoned house he was using as his base, feeling uncomfortably watched as Anders and Merrill followed him. They settled for run-down kitchen which had few stools that were still standing, and Merrill started to explain what they wanted.

Fenris wasn’t convinced by this idiotic plan, but he knew there was no getting out of this. Fucking Roland Hawke. The abomination-loving, mage-supporting piece of shit. If only he had not also been the most honorable man Fenris had ever met. He had been alone, hunted by Danarius and desperate for any help, and Hawke had offered his. Without any prize or demand. Fenris had opposed his every idea, had been rude and withdrawn and still. Hawke had never abandoned him, and when Danarius came, he had been right there by Fenris’ side. Merrill’s letter about his death had hit him harder than he was ever going to admit. He had opened a bottle of best wine he could find, and drank it all to the honour of that crazy man. If he was not dead after all, he would be paying back for that damned wine.

Merrill and Anders stared at him and he scoffed.

“There is one obvious flaw in your plan though. What if Hawke is not alive?”

Anders looked down at the table and Merrill’s eyes widened. Had these two idiots really not thought about that?

“I know he is. I’m not going to come out of the Fade without him. Besides, demons in the Fade usually want to play with any human they find. I doubt they would have killed him. He is not dead. I know it.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“He is not dead! And if he is then what does it change for you? You will just leave me in the Fade. Surely you would happy to do that?”

Merrill put her small hand on Anders’ shoulder and looked at Fenris scoldingly. Like this was his fault. Fenris closed his eyes and sighed. He was truly and deeply fucked.

“Fine. What do you need from me?”

Anders and Merrill smiled in unison. Creepy.

“Well, to begin with, we need several vials of Gamlen Amell’s blood”, Merrill chirped.

Chapter Text

Anders was tired and sweaty when they finally reached the top of Sundermount, and the feeling wasn’t helped by Merrill and Fenris bouncing forward like they did this every day. Well, Fenris didn’t bounce. The views were stunning though, the whole Wounded Coast spreading out below them with Kirkwall tucked in to one of its coves. Anders might have enjoyed the view more if his stomach didn’t feel like he was about to empty its contents any minute now. He would not have eaten anything the previous night had Merrill not forced him. They had planned and revised the ritual until both of them knew it inside and out, and Anders had stayed up even after Merrill had retired for the night.

He was so deep in thought that Fenris suddenly speaking to Merrill startled him.

“Why am I not surprised there is a rift on Sundermount?”

“Well, it is a place where the Veil has always been particularly thin, so it is no wonder there is such heavy spirit presence on the mountain, and considering that it is not so surprising… But Fenris! You already know this. You were just being ironic.”

Fenris’ mouth quirked to something resembling a smile. Anders couldn’t help but stare. The expression looked strange on Fenris’ perpetually grumpy face. It took only a second and it was gone. Fenris pointed at something in the distance.

“Is that what we were looking for?”

***

The rift was… unnerving. They had fought past a gathering of demons and lesser shades and now they had a clear view of the thing. It shone strange green light, and it was pulsing and throbbing like some sort of twisted living being. Anders was reminded of a heart during a surgery. Green ribbons of light emerging from the thing were like veins, but instead of blood what flowed through them was pure… magic. Pure essence of the Fade, like the Veil wasn’t even there.

Anders turned to Fenris and Merrill. Merrill looked utterly fascinated, her eyes wide and glowing in the green light. Fenris looked pained. His lyrium-infused markings were pulsing alongside with the rift, in perfect sync. Anders suspected it was not the most comfortable experience. Fenris was swishing his huge longsword back and forth, reminding Anders of an agitated cat. If he would just touch the other man now Anders had a feeling he might hiss and scratch. Best not to try that then. Anders turned back to Merrill.

“What should we start with?”

“I think drawing the glyphs… It might require somewhat lot of blood. We have the three vials Gamlen was kind enough to give, and we will combine them with yours and mine. We want the spell to be open long enough to give you time to find Hawke. If the link severs… Well, I told you. That would not be good.”

Calmly as if she did this every day (which, it occurred to Anders, she probably did), Merrill took a sharp knife from her belt and made a small cut in her forearm.

“Now your turn. Should we gather the blood to a bowl and then draw? Yes, I think that would be the best.”

Anders knew his blood was needed, and as a healer he was not particularly squeamish about it, but using his own blood for a blood magic ritual felt twisted. He wondered if Justice would be boldened by the closeness of the Fade and would try to stop him. No interruption came, and soon Anders’ blood was flowing to a small cup Merrill was holding beneath his arm.

When you removed the decades or centuries of research done by the Tevinter mages, and the need for a massacre of innocent bystanders, the ritual was really not that complicated, considering the hardest part was already done for them. The Veil was ripped open almost completely, and now they only needed an access directly to the Fade, with nothing standing between the two worlds. Anders’ mouth felt dry and ashy. This was madness.

“Anders? Are you alright?”

Merrill’s concern was touching, but there was nothing Anders could change now. Whether he was alright was irrelevant.

“Yes. Are you ready? And Fenris?”

Fenris nodded, expressionless. Merrill stepped forward towards the rift, and started to weave her spell. The pulsing of the rift quickened, and it started to writhe like a pained animal. Merrill’s brow was dotted by small sweat drops, but she kept going. Anders, feeling fairly useless, went through the contents of his bag for the last time. Potions, both lyrium- and healing kind. Other medical supplies. Some food, although he didn’t know if that was necessary in the Fade. A small mabari-shaped token Hawke had looted for him years and years ago. Anders knew it was disgustingly sentimental to have it with him, but at this point he was beyond caring.

“Now, Anders, if you try to… To touch the rift, I think it should open. If I did the ritual right. I will anchor the opening to this side and try to hold it open as long as possible. If anything comes through, Fenris should take care of that.” Merrill looked at him, her face uncharacteristically unreadable. Anders squared his shoulders and walked in the middle of the glyph. What should he do now? The rift was pretty high up. Feeling rather stupid he raised his hand and reached towards the pulsing green anomaly.

The light went through him like lightning. The feeling was instant, painful, and strange. Anders turned to Merrill to ask her what he should do now, when the world turned white, and he fell.

***

Anders couldn’t move his body. He was lying on the ground, seeing the relatively familiar view of the Fade above him, but he could not move. He opened his mouth, and words came out.

“Hello Anders.”

Justice.

“It has been a long time since we have been able to discuss like this. I wonder if a next time ever comes.”

Why aren’t you letting me move?

“I want you to listen to me. If I let you go, you would just rush onwards like a headless bull.”

Anders sighed. In his mind, if such a thing was possible.

I’m sorry. I haven’t really cared for your existence these past few years.

“That is because my presence in your mind has been waning. After what we did in Kirkwall, your mind was… Shaken. You lost control for a moment. I considered letting you die, freeing myself from this state, but it was unjust. You still had a purpose. So I dragged you onwards until you were strong enough to continue by yourself.”

Thank you, I guess? Are you saying my purpose is now fulfilled?

“I wish it were so, but I can sense you don’t agree with me.”

No. I have one more thing. After that you can do with me as you please.

Justice hummed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Anders.”

Don’t worry. I’ll be able to keep this one just fine.

“But you don’t have to. After I got you on your feet, I retired to a state of slumber. Your mind was damaged, and I had no wish to cause further strain. Our years together had been molding me into a creature of vengeance, and had you died that night, our journey together would have been complete. But that did not happen. Whatever you felt for that human, it was strong enough to make me feel it as well. It was strange, for a being who had felt nothing but righteous anger for years. When I re-emerged from my state of non-awareness, you had changed. Before, it had been easy enough to control you, even with the influence of this… Hawke. But now. You had started to live not for me, but for yourself.”

That’s not true. What I was doing, that was barely something you can call living. I was just surviving.

“You are wrong. It was living, and it was beautiful. You know I knew beauty before. Before our joining. Now I was able to see it again. I could see it in the leaves shaking off dewdrops in the morning. In the flight of birds in the spring. In the fast change of the seasons in your world. Your world was living and breathing. It had so many layers. The Fade is constantly changing, but it cannot create. It is formless, shadeless. For you, everything is different. How is it said in that silly poem of yours? In your heart shall burn…”

Are you seriously quoting the Chant of Light to me?

“Maybe I am. What I mean, for you, there are shades and shapes I cannot see or comprehend. The shores of your world are not boundless, but they have meaning in their ebb and flow.” Justice was quiet for a moment.

“This time, Anders, when you leave the Fade, you will see the last of me. We were to be joined as together as Vengeance, but now we will emerge in another form. What it is, I cannot say. I am just a spirit. “

You will die?

“Perhaps, from your perspective. But no, I would not say so. We will both be changed. I will just assume a new form, a new path.”

Just like that, you… You would release me?

“I will still be there. Before, you were driven on by your hatred, your feelings of injustice and powerlessness. I didn’t think those feelings wrong or worthless. Now, however, you have changed, unwilling and unknowing as it might have been. I will shape you into another direction. You have started the change, and I shall strengthen it. Perhaps you will prefer it to our past, perhaps you will resent it. I do not know. If you make it back to your world, you will see. If you don’t, eventually you will disappear to the Fade and I shall be free.”

Anders didn’t know what to say. His thoughts were hazy, flowing in and out of his mind without forming concrete ideas. Finally one thing came to him.

Will you be sad to go?

Justice seemed to think about that.

“I don’t think I can fully comprehend sadness. But I know you will feel my loss, no matter how much grief I have caused you, and it will make you feel this… Sadness. So perhaps I would be sad too.”

Anders was surprised to find that Justice was right. The idea of letting him go was painful. The closer you were to something, the more painful you felt its departure. And nothing could have been closer to him than Justice.

“I will go now, and I won’t expect to return. Goodbye, Anders, and thank you.”

For what?

“For showing me what your life could be. For being my friend.”

Slowly, Anders felt like he could move. His limbs were impossibly heavy, like he had lain there for thousands of years. His chest felt strangely hollow. He rose to sit upright. What was he doing?

And then the awful memory dawned on him. He was here for Hawke.

“JUSTICE! Come back! Come back, I need you!”

There was no echo, and his hollow voice disappeared into the endless mist of the Fade.

Chapter Text

Shouting was of no use. It was not like Justice was somewhere far away. It was right there, inside Anders. It just would not answer. Maybe this was what Justice had wanted, for Anders to lose himself in the Fade, so it could get its freedom back. Anders had no choice. He had to continue onwards.

Anders could feel the faint presence of Merrill, tugging him into the direction he had presumably arrived from. Since he did not know where to go, he decided on the opposite direction. He would probably have to ask some spirits for help. Hopefully benign ones. Demons would be dangerous, especially desire demons. They would just wish to trap him in here for all eternity, showing him impossible dreams he would start to prefer to reality. Pride demons would be even more dangerous.

After walking for what felt like hours with landscape changing very little, Anders started to wonder if he had somehow ended up in a part of the Fade that was for some reason unsettled. The Fade continued on, endless chains of hills and canyons surrounded by the vast nothingness. Suddenly he heard a quiet voice speaking behind him. Anders turned, staff raised, and saw a spirit in a form of a small child.

“I can’t see”, the spirit said, its voice barely audible.

“Excuse me?”

“I am lost.”

Well, this was unexpected. And unhelpful.

“I’m sorry, but I am also lost.”

“You are not. But you don’t belong here.”

“Yes, I am a human.”

“You are not.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be. You can’t help it, can you?”

This was a strange spirit. Anders wished, not for the first time in the last hours, that Justice was here. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with these things. Maybe he should start with the basics.

“Are you a spirit of the Fade?”

“Yes. I am a spirit of love.” The spirit didn’t sound very sure of itself. Maybe this was a plot by some sort of demon, but Anders supposed the only way to find out was to continue talking with the spirit.

“If you are a spirit of the Fade, how can you be lost in here? This is your world.”

“I am not lost in here. I am lost.”

“Well, I am lost too, so I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”

“You are not lost. You know where you are going.”

“Well, if you know that too, could you please enlighten me?”

“You need to find him. You love him.”

“Who?”

“Your love.”

Was this really a spirit of love, or was it just tossing cryptic comments around? Anders couldn’t decide. The conversation didn’t seem to progress anywhere, though, so maybe he needed to find a spirit that made a bit more sense.

“Well, I hope you find a solution to your problem. I need to continue my journey now. It was nice to meet you.”

Anders turned and continued walking. After walking for some time he noticed that the spirit was following him.

“Why are you following me?”

“I love you. I want to follow you.”

Brilliant. The last thing he needed was a love-sick spirit who didn’t know a damn thing about the Fade following him around.

“You don’t love me. We’re strangers.”

“I do. I want you to take me with you. You’re safe.”

“I cannot take you with me. I will go back to the other side of the Veil.”

“You can’t!”

“I’m really sorry, but I must.”

“No. I love you. Don’t go.”

“If you love me so much, why don’t you help me and show me where I need to go?”

He regretted the words immediately. He should try to get rid of the spirit, not antagonize it and definitely not play into its ideas.

“You don’t need help. You’re moving for him. And the Fade is moving for you. You know where you’re going.”

“How very cryptic of you. I’ll have to keep on walking then.”

***

After so much more walking Anders felt like his feet would stop moving soon, he noticed that his surroundings had changed. He didn’t know if the change had been gradual, or if his attention had been diverted by something. The hills of the Fade had turned into sandy dunes littered by scorched human remains and burned houses. In the distance he saw more fires, with their thick black smoke covering the unsettlingly reddish sky. The sight was not encouraging.

Since he had no one else to ask from, Anders turned to the spirit. “Do you know where we are now?”

“In a dream.”

“My dream?”

“In your dream, would you not rather be yourself?”

The spirit sounded confused and looked at Anders. Anders looked down and instead of his own old robes he saw a strange sleeveless vest. His skin was tan and running his hand through his hair Anders discovered it to be short and coarse. Reaching back, he found in place of his own staff a large longsword. Yes, this was definitely not him.

“Then whose dream is this?”

But even asking it felt stupid. It was Hawke’s. It had to be. Had to. So. He is definitely trapped by a demon. But what kind? This doesn’t seem like a dreamy situation. But I have seen this before. We visited Feynriel’s dreams, and Hawke took another form in them. To wake him up I need to convince him this is not real. But how do I do that? Where is he? And who even am I?

“CARVER!” The scream was piercing the air and Anders turned abruptly. Yes, there was no doubt anymore.

It was Hawke, gaze focused on Anders, trekking through the barren earth with three women Anders recognized. Bethany, Aveline and Leandra. Anders fell to his knees and nearly wept from the overwhelming feeling of relief that washed over him. This was Hawke’s dream. He had found him, and he was alive. He had found him. He was alive. Anders didn’t even try to stop it. He cried.

His relief was cut short when Hawke nearly ran the last steps towards him, grabbed him hard by the shoulders, and shook him so hard Anders’ neck snapped back painfully. Hawke was furious.

“How could you? You complete, absolute moron! How could you?!”

“Brother!”

“You had no right! Don’t never, ever scare us like that again. This is not a time for your childish heroics. You could have died! We thought you did. We saw it. Mother was grieving you!”

“Roland, stop! You’re hurting him.”

Hawke’s grip loosened, and he looked down, sighing deeply.

“I’m sorry. But we were very, very worried.”

Anders tried his best to gather the information he needed. He was Carver Hawke, the brother lost to the Blight. Died outside of Lothering, trying to save the family from an ogre. Bethany’s twin, Leandra’s favourite child. Ok, so he dreams Carver survives. I need to say something. Something to convince him that Carver could not have made it.

“You saw me die?”

“It sure looked like that. The ogre nearly ripped you open. You were just lying there, unresponsive. No signs of life.” Hawke took a step back, eyeing him. “Where is all the blood? What happened? Did someone heal you?”

Well, Anders. A great opening. Let’s use it.

“No. No one healed me. I died.”

Yeah. Real subtle.

“… You died? But you’re right there.” Hawke’s eyes widened, his hand reaching for his sword. “What are you? Stop playing games!”

“I’m not the one playing games. This is a dream, Hawke. You have been trapped by a demon, and it is trying to sell you lies. This part of your life is long past. You escaped Lothering with your mother, and Bethany, and Aveline, and came to Kirkwall. You met Varric, and me, and Fenris and Merrill and Isabela. This is long gone. I’m sorry. Your brother – I mean me – I did not make it. I’m sorry.”

Hawke looked baffled, and Anders grimaced. This was not how you were supposed to do it. You were not supposed to tell the person that they were dreaming. Hawke looked around him, clearly unsure of what to do.

“Mother?”

Leandra Hawke was looking past Hawke and Anders, and when Anders followed her gaze he saw what had caught her interest. It was the spirit. Leandra opened her mouth, and when she spoke, the voice was not that of Hawke’s mother.

“Why have you brought this… Freak of nature into my lair, little one?”

“I found him. He is mine. He is safe.”

“I see. Well, I would prefer it if you would both remove yourselves. This feast is MINE!”

Dream Bethany and dream Aveline faded away, alongside with dream Lothering. Dream Leandra, it seemed, was bursting from her seams, like she was about to blow up. Anders ran to Hawke, when in a massive swirl of mist and power dream Leandra disappeared and was replaced by an unfortunately real seeming desire demon, who was looking at Anders with an irritated expression.

“Get out of my way, abomination.”

Chapter Text

Anders reached for his staff, and blessedly found it where it should be. That meant he probably also looked like himself instead of looking like Carver Hawke. The demon took a few steps back and smiled mockingly.

“Oh, you intend to fight me? And all by yourself, how brave.”

Anders wished he felt more confident about this fight. He had known a fight was probable, and he was certainly not losing Hawke now that he had found him. Still, he could have used some support. Anyone really. He would have probably welcomed Knight-Commander Meredith if she had waltzed in from beyond the grave to help him. He glanced quickly at Hawke, who was sitting on the ground, looking exhausted and confused and definitely not like he was up for a fight.

“Well, it looks like you are not letting me have my toy. I will have to take it.” The desire demon raised her hand and was suddenly surrounded by several lesser demons. Anders thought he could handle them from a distance, but he needed to get Hawke to safety. He turned to help Hawke up and away from the demons when he felt a bursting pain in his shoulder and was knocked back. He did not have time to get up or heal himself, when a demon was on him, holding him down and trying, at least based on how Anders felt, to tear off his right arm.

It would have probably succeeded, had it not been decapitated with what looked like a sword made of pure light. Anders looked up, expecting to see Hawke. Instead he was faced by a giant made of light, wielding a weapon that shone so brightly Anders had to look away. The creature turned to the desire demon.

“He is mine. Do not touch him.”

The voice was loud and deep, nothing like the child’s voice Anders had heard the spirit use before, but he was certain this creature had to be it. Spirit of love, Andraste’s ass! But Anders did not have time to stop and consider what sort of spirit or demon the creature was. It started to clear away the demons with its light-sword, and the desire demon screeched.

“Don’t you dare to stand against me, youngling! I will have this human.” The desire demon pointed at the spirit and launched her underlings towards it.

Anders had seen enough. He had to get to Hawke. He noticed his staff few feet to his left and started crawling towards it, trying to avoid the attention of the demons – or spirits – fighting next to him. His shoulder burned and every movement was pain, but he had to move forward. He felt immediately better as his hand wrapped around the warm wood of his staff. Encouraged by the safety of a weapon in his hands he got up and looked frantically for Hawke. He noticed Hawke lying near the remains of a dead demon, knocked unconscious. Anders prayed that Hawke was not dead as well.

He reached Hawke and dropped to the ground next to him to check his pulse. Alive. Hawke’s armor was badly damaged and as Anders started to heal him, he felt several badly healed wounds in his shoulders and abdomen. Hawke was thin from malnourishment and his beard and hair were overgrown. Anders gently slapped him.

“Roland! You need to wake up. Please.”

The sounds of the battle grew louder, and Anders got increasingly panicked as Hawke showed no signs of responding to his words. After what felt like an eternity of hurried shaking, during which Anders kept franctically checking how the battle was going, Hawke finally groaned and opened his eyes. Anders sighed from relief and focused for a moment on healing his own shoulder.

“Anders? What… What’s going on?”

“You are in the Fade. You were lost there while trying to save the world or something with Varric and the Inquisitor as they call her. I’m here to save you.”

“I… I think I remember. But I have been having such strange dreams. I –“

“You can tell me anything you want once we get out of here, but now we must go. Please.”

Hawke looked mildly irritated, and would probably have started to argue, if Anders had not been lifted up to the air by a pair of glowing, giant spirit-arms. Suddenly Anders was facing his spirit defender, who spoke with a booming voice.

“I have killed the demon. Where shall we go now?”

“Look, I’m really grateful for your help, but… I need to go. I need to get me and my friend back to our own world. He is not well”

“Then I shall join you there.”

Great. Just as Justice had decided to give up on Anders, a new spirit-demon-thing showed up to offer its services.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Spirits belong to the Fade.”

The spirit seemed to shrink at his answer, lowering its head, and pushing its shoulders up. Then Anders realized it was actually shrinking. Fast. Anders fell to the ground unceremoniously, his legs giving in as they hit the ground. When he looked up, he saw that the spirit had returned to its former shape of a small child. Except this time it did not look like a vague child-shaped spirit. It looked like an actual living and breathing child. In fact, a child that had lived and breathed once.

Anders was looking at himself. As a child.

The spirit-Anders started crying.

“No! Please let me stay. Please. Don’t let them take me, I don’t want to go!” The spirit ran forward and hugged Anders, sobbing into his shoulder. Anders pushed it away, holding the spirit at an arm’s length.

“Stop it! Who is taking you? I have nothing to do with this. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The templars! You called them, I know you did. Don’t let them take me, please please. I promise I won’t do it again, ever. I will be good. I don’t want to go. Please father, let me stay.”

Anders froze. Unwanted memories he had tried to bury deep into his mind and never think again made their way to his brain. His first time using magic. His mother, horrified, his father, disgusted. The templars coming for him, coming to take him away from his home for forever. The look on his father’s face. He knew where this was going.

You are a demon. I don’t want you in this house, terrorizing me and your mother. The templars know what to do with your kind. You are not wanted here.

His mother had sobbed but had not interfered. The templars had dragged him to the tower, and there he had been for the next 18 years. Trapped. He had resented the world, and tried to escape whenever he could, but that only caused more and more brutal punishments, until the year of solitary confinement that nearly drove him crazy. All alone in the cell, no one speaking to him. Not even the templars who brought him food. He had to go. He had to get away.

Suddenly he felt a strong grip on his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat, but when he looked, it was Hawke.

“Anders. You have to help him. He is crying and panicking.” Hawke’s voice was firm, and he sounded so much like himself Anders nearly started crying himself.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“He is a child, Anders. Comfort him.”

Anders looked at the crying spirit. At himself. He reached out to take the spirit’s hand, and pulled the spirit into his arms. The spirit wrapped its arms tight around Anders’ chest. Anders swallowed. What was he supposed to do? He knew how the story ended. What would he have wanted to hear?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The spirit continued to cry and Anders petted its head unsure of what he was doing.

“It’s not fair. I’m sorry. I tried to fix it, but maybe I just made it worse, I don’t know. I try to help. I wish I could help you.”

The spirit lifted its head and hiccupped, wiping its eyes with fisted hands.

“I just wanted you to love me. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m not alone. Not anymore.”

“Do you love me?”

“I do. Or I try. I will try. I promise.”

“Promise it. Say it.”

“I will try to love you. Or me. Us. I promise.”

The spirit stepped back and smiled. The air around it started to glow and it transformed back to the form Anders first found it in. It reached out to Anders and took his hand, and then, it was gone.

Anders rose slowly and turned to look at Hawke. He was sitting on the ground with his hands between his knees.

“Roland? Are you alright?”

“Where am I? I’m really tired. I want to sleep.”

“You can’t. We need to go. Trust me, please.” Anders hooked his arm around Hawke’s back and helped him up. Hawke looked like he was on the verge of losing consciousness again.

“Come on. Here we go. One step at the time.”

Anders felt Merrill’s faint presence, and started to follow it, Hawke leaning onto him. This would take a long time.

***

Merrill was exhausted. The wound on her hand was still bleeding, but she didn’t know how much more blood she could lose. Holding the rift open and maintaining a connection to Anders required all her concentration. Somewhere behind her Fenris was fighting off another demon that had appeared from the rift. She didn’t know how long this had been going on, but she wasn’t going to give up. Not now. Hawke needed her. Come on, Anders.

She picked up her blade to make another slash to her arm, when the rift started pulsing again. Another demon? She looked at Fenris, who nodded and readied his sword. The green glow of the rift brightened until Merrill couldn’t look at it without hurting. Suddenly it collapsed on itself, and Merrill felt her spell evaporate. The rift exploded into white light that blinded her, and she had to cover her eyes with her hands.

When her vision returned, he could see Anders, kneeling on the ground next to a body.

“Hawke! Is he… Is he –“

“He’s alive.”

Merrill dropped her knife and fell to the ground, her back hitting the soil. It was over. They had succeeded. From the corner of her eye she saw Fenris leaning heavily on his sword, his expression unreadable. Merrill looked up to the sky. The sun was visible again, the sick greenish light of the rift gone. Trees were burning in red and orange and yellow against the bright blue dome of the sky. It was beautiful. She smiled.

Chapter Text

Hawke was falling. He could feel his body, slowly descending, but he could see nothing. Ah. His eyes were closed. That made sense. He forced his eyes open, his lids feeling like they weighed several tons. What he saw was a swirling brown mess. Hawke closed and opened his eyes again, and slowly his view stopped spinning. He was looking at a wooden roof of a house. Where was he?

His eyes were tired, and he closed them again. Right, he had been journeying to the Adamant Fortress with Varric and the Inquisitor. There had been fighting. A dragon. Oh yes, they had fallen to the Fade. His mind was spinning. This felt like too much to take in at once. What had happened then? The Nightmare. It had stopped them from escaping. Someone had needed to stay behind. It was him, Alistair and the Inquisitor. She had been unable to make the decision. Hawke remembered her huge green eyes wide and scared. Alistair insisting he should be the one. But he was young. He had reasons to live for. A lover, the Warden-Commander all the way in the Anderfels, unable to help him. His cousin would never forgive him if he let Alistair die. Hawke had pushed the two of them forwards. Then it was just him. With the Nightmare.

He had fought, but in vain. The Nightmare was so much stronger than he was. He would have died, but it seemed like the Nightmare was not interested in him. When the rift closed after the Inquisitor, the Nightmare had struck Hawke down and left him to bleed to dead. But what had happened then. Had he died? Was this still the Fade? He made an effort to force his eyes open again. The same roof he had seen before. With massive strenuous effort he turned his head to see where he might be, and was greeted with a sight he would never have expected. Not in his wildest dreams.

It was Fenris, of all people, sleeping in a chair placed next to where Hawke was laying. His ridiculous hair moved with his calm breathing. Like grass in a gentle wind. What the hell am I thinking. Fenris looked calm. Relaxed. If this was the Fade he didn’t know what the hell was going on. The best course of action was probably to get up, Hawke decided, but discovered that moving even a single muscle was nearly impossible. Okay. Plan B.

“Fenris?” His voice was low and raspy, his throat feeling like a desert. Fenris opened his eyes slowly.

“You’re awake.”

Hawke cleared his throat, twice. “Yes.”

“I’ll get Merrill.”

“Wait… Where am I?”

Fenris looked at him, his brow furrowed. “You don’t remember?”

“I was… in the Fade. I was going to –“. Hawke had to cough several times before he could continue. “I was going to die. I think.”

“Well, we saved you.”

“Can you be… a bit more… specific?”

“I don’t know much about it. I’ll get Merrill. She will explain it.” Fenris turned to go, but then stopped and seemed to change his mind. He came back and kneeled next to Hawke’s bed, grabbing Hawke’s weak hand and pressing it to his forehead.

“Fasta vass, how relieved I am you’re back.” Then, as if it was burning, he dropped Hawke’s hand, got up and walked out of the door on the other side of the room.

Hawke had never felt this confused in his life.

With Fenris absent, he had nothing to do but look around the room. “The room” appeared to actually be a whole tiny cottage. The bed Hawke was lying in was in the corner opposite side from the door. There was a small cupboard, a table and two chairs. Sunlight streamed through the one window in the room. On the foot of the bed there was a sizable chest, and that was it. Maybe Fenris uses this as a safe house or something. The door opened, and Fenris returned, with Merrill in tow. That was all he had time to notice before Merrill's arms wrapped around him.

“Oh Hawke, how sad we were to think you were gone! I have missed you terribly! And thinking you were gone in the Fade of all places. I was so heartbroken. And to think about poor Varric and Bethany and Aveline. I didn’t know what to do. But I could have never come up with such a plan to rescue you, unless… Well, I mean –“

Hawke tried to push Merrill back a bit, but his arms wouldn’t move. Luckily Merrill seemed to notice his struggle, and her expression seemed guilty.

“Oh no! The restraint. I’m sorry, but you were thrashing in your sleep and you needed to heal, so I had to… Bind you into the bed.” She giggled a little. “Okay, you should be free!”

Hawke found that to be true. His muscles hurt, but he was able to move them. Clearly he had been healed.

“Can I now, please, get an explanation? I don’t understand what’s going on.”

***

Merrill’s tale was so unbelievable Hawke nearly didn’t buy it. He wouldn’t have, if he didn’t remember vividly being trapped in the Fade, and now being, well, not. Entering the Fade physically using an existing rift and blood magic? Insanity. But there was one part of the story Merrill seemed to consciously avoid.

“This cannot have been just the two of you. And… I am healed. You’re no healer, Merrill.”

Merrill and Fenris exchanged a glance, and then Fenris shrugged and spoke.

“It was the – I mean, it was him. Anders. He entered the Fade. And he healed you.”

Hawke gazed back at the roof. Anders. He closed he eyes and memories from the Fade came back. The desire demon. Dreams, again and again starting over when Hawke realized what was going on. Dreams where his family was alive, where Anders was with him, where they were alive, and happy, and the world was not the hellish place full off corruption and misery. And then, Anders, really there. Trying to get him to move. There was a battle, and then… A child? Hawke groaned.

“Where… Where is he?”

Merrill bit her lower lip thoughtfully. “He didn’t want us to tell you. He said he didn’t want to cause you pain.”

Of course.

“I need to see him. He can’t run away from me now.”

“I know, Hawke. I’ll take you to him. But first you will eat and rest!”

Merrill managed to whip up several apples, a block of soft cheese, and seemingly freshly baked bread. Hawke dug into them gladly. He was ravenous.

After eating he finally considered what had happened. It seemed insane, but evidently it was real. Unless this is another dream. But somehow he knew it wasn’t. He looked at Fenris and Merrill who had followed his eating with fascination. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed his friends after leaving Kirkwall. Merrill and Fenris had changed little, probably thanks to being elves. Fenris looked a bit less skinny, and his cheeks had filled in a bit. Merrill was wide-eyed as ever, her hair slightly longer than Hawke remembered.

“I don’t know how to thank you. What you have done for me… You are true friends, and I am eternally grateful. Your resourcefulness and knowledge know no bound, Merrill. Fenris, you have disagreed with me on every issue we have ever encountered, and yet you would do this for me? Not many people would. You are a good man.” Hawke’s eyes felt a little misty. Merrill beamed and cried at the same time, while Fenris looked away, slightly flushed. Merrill swiped her cheeks and took Hawke’s hand.

“Oh Hawke. We love you too. So much”

***

Merrill kept her promise, and after Hawke had rested a bit, she said she would take him to Anders. It was a splendid afternoon, cold but sunny. When they got out, Hawke realized they were in a cottage on Sundermount. The cottage was surrounded by a small clearing, and on the left the trees made way for a rocky cliff overseeing the southern side of the mountain.

Merrill had explained that Hawke had been passed out for two whole days after Anders had returned from the Fade. Anders’ trip had taken until the next morning, and Merrill and Fenris had been by the open Fade rift the entire time, not sleeping and eating only in the short moments between the relentless demon attacks. He really had some friends. Anders had healed him, and everybody else, but when he had stabilized, Anders had apparently insisted on moving out of the cottage and leaving immediately after Hawke would get up.

Anders. Hawke didn’t know what he would say to the man. The images Anders brought to his mind. The explosion of the chantry, the blue eyes of Justice, unending anger and vengeance. But also Anders’ own golden eyes looking at Hawke, laughing. His soft hands, his endless compassion, his jokes and his passions and… How he had loved him, and still did. In front of him Hawke saw Merrill slowing down. She pointed silently at a cliffside in front of them, and then moved to walk back, to give them privacy. Hawke smiled at her weakly and walked forward.

Hawke walked around the cliff, and saw a tent set up in the middle of several old oak trees. He didn’t see Anders immediately, but he could hear someone working a little distance ahead. And then he saw him. Anders was sitting at a sunny spot from where he could see the city down below. Like a cat. His hands were green, and he was holding a mortar and a pestle, making something. Elfroot potions, most likely. Hawke hesitated, but in the end, he had to move. He took a step forward and leaves rustled beneath his shoes. Anders turned.

Chapter Text

Anders was crushing elfroot leaves with some unnecessary force and trying not to think. It had been two days now since Hawke and he had emerged from the Fade. Two days and Hawke still hadn’t woken up. He had been severely malnourished and had had several clearly infected wounds, but still, with Anders’ healing he should have woken up by now. He was terrified that he had missed something, and now Hawke had been saved from the Fade only for him to die here. Because he was not good enough of a healer.

Maybe if he had Justice’s power with him. But Justice was gone. Anders had no idea what had happened, but Justice’s presence in his head was no longer there. In the Fade Justice had said that they would become a new being, not Vengeance but something completely different, but Anders didn’t feel it. He felt nothing of Justice. Just emptiness where it had once been. In a way he was used to it, Justice having been gone after the events in Kirkwall, but this was different. If Justice was right, this was permanent. He was alone, alone with his past actions and whatever pitiable future awaited him. Thoughts of his future had been easier to bear when he had had at least one being to share it with. But now there was nothing. Anders was terrified.

And then there was Hawke. He was saved, but what now? Anders had bravely told Merrill to not tell Hawke about him. He had made his decision. If – no, not if – when Hawke woke up, he would leave. But the temptation to see him, to hear his voice, look into his eyes and maybe, maybe even touch him, feels his warm skin under Anders’ hand and know that he was there…

Anders was a fool. He knew he could not stay, but the desire was so great it nearly crushed him. He didn’t know where he would find the force to drag himself away. He looked down and realized how hard he had been pressing with the pestle. The leaves were unusable. He sighed. Maybe that was enough work for today. Merrill should be here soon. Like summoned, he heard footsteps from behind him and turned. It was not Merrill.

Blood rushed into his head and suddenly he felt dizzy and couldn’t see anything. His hands started shaking and he dropped the pestle he had been holding. This can’t be happening. I’m not ready, I can’t face him, I don’t want to know maker make him go away please please please please –

And then he felt gentle hands touching his shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“Anders? Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

Anders wanted to look up but couldn’t. He pressed his chin to his chest, almost petulantly. “No.”

Hawke let out a surprised laugh. “Very funny.” Anders felt him move away. Suddenly everything felt colder. He had to look up. If he hates me I will die.

Hawke was looking at him, sitting opposite to him in a spot of sunlight. Anders felt an awful aching in his chest and didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare. Hawke cleared his throat.

“Merrill told me that it was your idea. To come and rescue me, I mean.” When Anders made no comment, he pushed on.

“I have been thinking about you a lot in the last four years. More often than I’d care to admit, in fact. But I had made up my mind to not seek you out. But maybe that was stupid of me. Maybe it was not worth it. After what happened in Kirkwall I was angry, but I was also lost. Everybody else went their own separate ways. Even Bethany. She was not as young as I thought. The Circle, funny as it would sound, taught her independence. I couldn’t stay in Kirkwall, so I left. I stayed in the Storm Coast for a bit. Desolate area, but very beautiful. But that is, ah, beside the point. What I did in the meantime is surely not interesting to you. What is important is…”

Anders had been stubbornly staring at his hands, but when he heard Hawke hesitate he looked up. Hawke was still looking at him. Anders turned away.

“You see, what I’m trying to say, what I realized is. Is that when I saw you sitting there, or maybe when I saw you in the Fade, or maybe, maybe I had known it all along but I had actually never…” Anders heard Hawke move closer.

“I’m an idiot. I don’t know how to say it, but here goes. I still love you, and probably never stopped, and what you did made me realize if I am going to live out the rest of my life here on this damned world, I would like to do it with you. If, I mean, that is something… You would want.”

Maybe, just maybe, the desire demon had cheated him. Because this could not be real. Anders did not believe this was something that was happening to him. But it is. He is there. He was there. This was happening. Right now. In this moment. What was he going to say?

“I thought you’d hate me.”

Hawke looked surprised. “For saving me?”

“No, I mean for… For what I did. For what happened in Kirkwall. I should have died that night. If it had helped you at all, made you feel any better, I wish I had died.”

Brilliant. Now he would hate definitely hate him. Anders wanted to look away, to run, but he had to keep watching. He felt like he was pushing himself off a cliff, just slowly. Watching his hand as they finally let go and he fell.

“I was angry at you. You know I would have helped you with anything, taking out Meredith or even Elthina if you had felt it was necessary. But you didn’t tell me.”

“You would have never agreed to that.”

“I suppose I would not have. But I could see why you felt you had to do what you did.”

“I know I killed people who were innocent. But things needed to change. So many innocent people had died already, and many more were going to, in the hands of the Chantry and their templars. Small reforms were not enough. We needed change. I was ready to die for it.”

“I know that Anders. You were ready to die for your cause.” Now Hawke looked angry. Angry and pained. Then he closed his eyes and sighed. “You were ready to die, but did you ever stop to consider that I was not ready to kill you?”

***

Anders looked sick, and for a moment Hawke wanted to stop. But he needed to say this. He would get it out, and then he would be done with it.

“I don’t even know how long you had planned it. Was me killing you always part of the plan? How could you think I would go through with it?”

“You were always so… Just. You did the right thing. This would have been the right thing.”

“I did not want to be Justice for you! I was not going to become your judge, jury, and executioner! I loved you. I wanted to save you, from Meredith and Chantry and everyone who would ever harm you. I couldn’t save my father. I couldn’t save my brother, or my mother. Or Bethany, from the Circle. But I was going to save you. Only, you didn’t want me to. You wanted me to kill you! For Maker’s sake, Anders.”

Hawke tried to calm down, taking deep breaths. He had said his piece. He waited. Anders looked so small, small and fragile. Like he would break from the gentlest touch.

“It was selfish”, he started, with shaky voice. “I just… I didn’t want to die alone. I thought maybe if you did it, I would accept it. And Justice would. I didn’t want to die. But I knew I was going to. What did it matter if I wanted to die from your sword and not from a stranger’s?”

“It sure as hell mattered to me.”

“I… I see that. I’m sorry. For causing you so much pain. That is why I told Merrill to not tell you about my part in this. I didn’t want you to see me ever again.”

“But I wanted to see you. I meant what I said. Do you think you could… Feel that way about me, still?”

“I do. Always. But you can’t mean that. I am a murderer. And who knows what will happen. I cannot change. You will just come to realize it again. What I am.”

“Look. I know that. And I thought that I could not love you. That it was better to go. Even if I understood you, I didn’t accept what you did. Maybe I still don’t. But the thing is, I don’t care. Go on. Murder more people, let Justice roam free and execute anyone it desires. You could blow up the Divine herself were it not done already. I do not care. I just want you. I have lost everyone, and for what? Everything I did granted me nothing.”

Anders looked like someone had told him he was the Maker reborn. Hawke had to laugh. “You need to understand. I am tired of sacrificing myself for the world. And in the Fade, I thought maybe that was it. One last sacrifice and then no more Hawke. But it wasn’t. You saved me, brought me back. But what am I anymore? I did die. In a way, I don’t exist anymore. And I am done giving myself up for others, Anders. From now on I am yours, until one of us dies for good. Please don’t run away from me. Not anymore.”

Anders kept staring, his mouth hanging open. Suddenly Hawke felt gloriously alive, more alive than he had felt in years. Only one step separating him from Anders. Why should he not take it? This was it for the Champion of Kirkwall. Hawke stepped forward, took Anders’ face between his hands, and kissed him.

***

All the guilt and shame and fear he had held were suddenly no longer there. Hawke was kissing him and Anders couldn’t think of anywhere in the world he would rather be than here. He put his hand around Hawke’s neck and tried to pull him closer. He would never, ever let go. Not after this. He was not strong enough to resist this.

But when Hawke finally stopped to breath, he felt he had to say something. Anything. Hawke didn’t have to do this for him.

“I will atone for it. Somehow. I don’t know. I don’t want you to have to live with… With someone like me.”

Hawke took his head and pressed their foreheads together.

“Anders. I did not lie. I don’t care. You don’t have to make promises you can’t keep, not for my sake. Especially since Justice is there too. If you two must save every mage on Thedas, I will join you gladly. Whatever it might take.”

Oh yes. Justice.

“About that. I talked with Justice in the Fade, and… He is gone. Kind of. I think.”

Hawke blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, apparently he is still there. We are just… Completely merged. Not as Vengeance, but something else. It might also… change me, in some ways. Maybe. It’s new to me too, but Justice said something might change. Just so you know.”

“We have a lot to talk about, it seems. But it doesn’t matter. I stand by what I said. Will you have me?”

“I want nothing more. I love you.”

Chapter Text

Hawke led him back to the cottage and Anders followed, not able to wrap his head around what had happened, no matter how hard he tried. During so many sleepless nights he had dreamed of this moment, but never like this. Even in his dreams he was not able to give himself this much. In his dreams he had begged for forgiveness, promised to change, to do whatever Hawke asked of him to atone for breaking his heart. Some nights Hawke forgave him, some nights he did not. What he never did was… this.

In the back of his mind a voice kept telling him he should not feel so ecstatic. Hawke’s speech had been passionate but also worrying. He had not offered his love, but himself, his life and his future. He has lost everything. He has nothing left but you. But that was not true. Hawke had his friends. He had Bethany. That’s not what he sounded like. He was desperate.

Firmly Anders pushed those thoughts aside, to wait with the hundred other things they had to talk about. They would. Just not now. Right now he focused on the feeling of Hawke’s hand in his hand. He focused on following Hawke, looking at the back of his head, his neck, his shoulders, the muscles of his back. His Hawke, alive, and here, and his again. There was no more room for anything else in his head.

“Anders?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re here.”

So they were. Anders looked at the little clearing, at the cottage that had been his most permanent home during the last four years. Would they leave this place? Would he miss it? He had not had such a home since he left his family years ago. Kirkwall had not been a home, he had been there for his mission, and the Circle had definitely not been one. But maybe this place had been, in a way. Justice had probably noticed that. It knew Anders better than Anders knew himself. Or used to, anyway. Anders pushed that thought away as well.

Merrill opened the cottage door, and if she was surprised to see Anders and Hawke together, she didn’t show it. She just smiled brightly and stood aside to let them in.

“I have tea, if you’d like. Fenris didn’t want any. He is leaving soon. Important slaver-stopping business.”

“Is that so? Too bad we didn’t have more time to spend together”, Hawke said, turning to Fenris. He was brooding by the window. He had not said anything when Anders and Hawke came in, but the glare Anders had received was telling. Everything was back to normal between them then. Fenris stood up and spoke to Hawke.

“Yes, I had business that got interrupted because of this… rescue mission. I will have to return to it as soon as possible.”

“I wish you luck then. Thank you, again, for saving my life.”

“I take it you and the mage made up?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” Fenris’ face remained neutral. He seemed to consider something for a moment. “Should you need to contact me, just leave a letter at my safe house in Kirkwall. I will get it at some point.”

Hawke took Fenris’ hand and pressed it. “And if you ever need help, know you can count on me. Just contact Varric, and he will find me. I owe you a great deal.”

Fenris looked uncomfortable. “Nonsense. I was in your debt.”

“Consider us equal then. Still, I am your friend. Anything you need, I will be there.”

“…Thank you.”

Hawke hugged Fenris quickly, before he had time to move away. Fenris didn’t resist, but Anders was amused by how red the elf’s face got. When Hawke released him, he turned to go immediately, and Merrill had to remind him to get his backpack. Then he was gone.

Merrill sighed sadly.

“It was so nice to have friends together again.”

Anders felt the need to note that Fenris hardly considered either him or Merrill as his friends, but he held his tongue. Hawke patted Merrill’s head comfortingly.

“I thought me and Anders would spend the night here, and tomorrow we would all go and see Aveline. How does that sound like?”

“Oh, it sounds nice!” Merrill smiled and waited for a moment, until she realized what Hawke had meant. “Do you want me to leave you two alone?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to kick you out. But we will see tomorrow?”

“I understand! You want some alone time. I shall go back home then. There’s tea, have some please. Come pick me up tomorrow, I want to see Aveline too!”

“We will. See you tomorrow Merrill.”

After Merrill left, they drank the tea and ate some of the bread she left behind. Hawke didn’t speak and Anders started to feel nervous again. After eating Hawke stretched and settled on the bed. In a few moments he was asleep. He must be exhausted. Anders rested his head on his hands, watching Hawke sleep. He was gorgeous even now, although a bit too skinny. He needs to eat more. I will make sure of that. And rest. I wonder what we will do now. The thought was too big to ponder now, and Anders noticed he was getting tired as well. He didn’t fight it, and fell asleep right there by the table.

***

It was dark outside when Hawke woke up. For a moment he was lost, but then it came back. He was in the cottage with Anders. Merrill and Fenris were gone, and it was just the two of them. It had been a bit awkward after Merrill had left. He had known exactly what to say in the moment with Anders, but now that it was over he didn’t know what to do. They had not seen each other in years. Could things return the way they used to be? Probably not. They would have to find a new way forward.

Hawke sat up, his eyes getting used to the dark. Then he noticed Anders, sleeping in a chair by the table. He had looked already tired earlier. He has probably used a lot of energy to heal me. Anders made a sound in his sleep, and Hawke felt a painful fondness in his chest. They would be fine. They had to be. He would not let Anders go a second time. Hawke looked at the window again. A crescent moon was facing him in the sky. He got up and went to Anders, shaking him gently.

“Mmh. I’m sleeping.”

“In the chair? Not too comfortable, I’d wager.”

Anders opened his eyes and looked up to Hawke. “Hello.”

“Hello. I have a great idea.” They were going to sleep under the stars tonight.

Anders looked dubious when he explained his idea, but Hawke didn’t let it stop him. They gathered all the few blankets and pillows the little cottage had and dragged them outside to the clearing. Anders cast a spell to warm them, and they snuggled under the covers. Hawke let out a contended sigh.

“I told you it was a great idea.”

The night was cold, but Anders’ spell and their shared body warmth was enough to keep it cozy. The countless stars were shining brightly above them, and the moon cast a pale light on the clearing. Hawke tried to recall the constellations his father had thought them when he was a child, but couldn’t remember any. Anders would probably know. This stuff was taught in the Circle. Hawke turned to Anders and found him staring back.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m not the one who just returned from a month-long trip to the Fade. Are you alright?”                                                                          

“I’m perfect.” Anders hummed, not sounding convinced. “I swear. I have not felt this good in years.”

Anders looked down at his hands, which were drawing circles on Hawke’s chest.

“What happened to you in the Fade? Do you remember?”

“Bits and pieces. I was dreaming, different scenarios. They always ended when I noticed something was wrong. I think my family was often there, sometimes even Father. And then you. Almost always you.”

“…I see.” Anders’ voice was barely more than a whisper.

Hawke looked at the sky. He could almost make out one formation. Voyager? Maybe. He had something to ask from Anders.

“After you came, I remember only some things. A fight. A spirit fighting the demon, and then a child. What was that?”

Anders didn’t answer for a while, and Hawke turned to see if he had fallen asleep, but he was still awake.

“I met the spirit on the way to you. It said it was a spirit of love, but I’m not sure. It grew… attached. It was mostly in the form of a child, but it was also the spirit warrior you saw fighting the desire demon.”

“Okay. What made it so upset?”

“Maybe it was a spirit of love. Some kind of… self-love I suppose.” Anders looked away. “When the battle was over, I told it I was leaving and it turned into… me. When I was a child. It was living through the time when I had to leave to the Circle. I don’t know what I was going to do, but then you seemed to have lucid moment, and you told me to comfort it. So I tried. I thought, what would I have wanted to hear then? But I don’t know. Suddenly it was gone.”

Hawke brushed a lone strand of hair away from Anders’ face. A spirit of self-love? No wonder it was attracted to Anders. If there ever was a spirit Anders needed, it was that one. The thought made him feel that fond pain again. Maker, I love him.

“Hawke? What are you thinking?”

“From now on, I’ll take care of you. You won’t be alone anymore.”

“I know. I’ll take care of you too.” Anders smiled a little. “Already did, quite a bit as well.”

Hawke smiled back and leaned in to kiss him. Anders was hesitant, but slowly melted into the kiss. This was going to be fine. They would be fine. Hawke pulled out of the kiss, and Anders made a disappointed noise. That almost made him kiss Anders again, but he had a pressing question he had to ask.

“I have something I need to ask, love.”

“Yes?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know how identify those old Tevinter constellations, would you?”

Chapter Text

Aveline had moved, finally out of the barracks. Probably good for her, Hawke thought. She always was way too devoted to her work. Hopefully that won’t be a problem. Hawke glanced nervously at Anders, who was hiding under his hood, looking as uncomfortable as Hawke felt. Hawke had not parted on best terms with Aveline, but she was still a good friend. More like Hawke’s family in fact, considering all they’d been through together. He regretted not keeping proper contact, although Merrill had said she had kept her updated.

The new house was on a respectable if less affluent part of Hightown, fitting for the captain of the guard and her husband. Merrill had assured them Aveline would be home, although she wouldn’t say how she knew. The door opened, and he was facing Donnic.

“Umm. Nice to see you?” Hawke didn’t know what he had been expecting, but suddenly he was in Donnic’s arms, enveloped in a crushing hug. Donnic was smiling widely. Hawke tapped his back, awkwardly, and smiled back. Had he ever seen Donnic smile? He didn’t think so.

“Aveline, darling! You need to come see this, quickly!” He turned back to Hawke. “And Fenris mentioned nothing last night. How did he keep this in him? Impossible man.”

“Fenris was here?”

“Yes, he comes by to play cards every now and then.”

Oh. You learn something new every day.

Donnic stepped back, and Hawke saw Aveline enter the hall. She looked largely unchanged, except for…

“You’re pregnant.”

“You’re alive!”

And then it was another crushing hug, Aveline’s even tighter than Donnic’s. Hawke hugged her back, feeling strangely… Homesick?

“You stupid man. You stupid, stupid man. Why did you do that?”

“Which part of it?”

“The nearly dying part, Hawke! I worried myself sick. And Bethany as well. What happened?”

Well, he had to get the cat out of the bag at some point.

“I was saved. From the Fade. By Merrill, Fenris, and Anders.” He moved in, gesturing vaguely at Merrill and Anders waiting by the door. Aveline’s face fell when she saw Anders.

“Hawke…”

“Aveline.” They stared at each other. When Aveline didn’t speak, Hawke knew he had won. “He saved me, Aveline. I still love him. Please, let it go.”

Aveline’s mouth tightened. “Let what go? Mass murder of innocents?”

Hawke sighed. This had been a bad idea. “We will go. If you try to stop us, I won’t hesitate.”

“Hawke…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Only for you. But don’t plan on staying in the city.”

Hawke smiled. Knowing Aveline, this was a tremendous success.

“Don’t worry, we won’t.”

They moved to a sizable dining room. Hawke whistled.

“Maker, I never thought I’d see you living in a place like this.”

“Donnic insisted. I would have been happy to stay in the barracks, believe me.” She sounded harsh, but smiled at Donnic, as smitten as ever. Hawke smiled. They would make for great parents.

“So… Soon there will be three of you?”

Aveline nearly rolled her eyes. “Great observational skills you have there.”

“Hey, just noting it. When’s it due?”

“He or she”, Aveline said, “will be born in Drakonis.”

“Have you thought of names yet? Roland for the boy, I should hope. If it’s a girl…” Hawke grinned. “Rolandina?”

Aveline only glared at him, but Donnic laughed.

***

Next morning was misty, chilly, and grey. They were on a forest path heading towards the settlement of the rebel mages, where Merrill said Bethany would be at. Every now and then Hawke felt a raindrop on his face, but it was just condensed mist falling from the evergreen trees that surrounded the path. They walked in silence, Merrill in the lead. Hawke’s head was pounding a bit from last night. Aveline didn’t drink as she was pregnant, but she still knew how to get out the competitive side of Hawke. At least I beat Donnic.

The thought brought him little comfort, but he was too proud to ask Anders to heal him. He glanced at Anders who was walking beside him, looking tired. Tired but not unhappy, Hawke hoped.

“Finding out the child was a girl made for a great party trick.”

Anders smiled, if only a little. “I was afraid Aveline would deck me rather than accept me examining her. Pregnancy has softened her.”

“Yeah, instead of dragon bone she is only, like, steel now.” Anders laughed at that, and Hawke felt ridiculously pleased with himself. They were a bit awkward around each other, like this was a start of a new relationship altogether. But that was alright. They just needed time.

***

It was nearly evening when they reached their destination. It was well hidden, a “hunting cottage” that had once belonged to a nobleman of some sort. Most likely it had been used for affairs that needed to stay hidden. The house was large and nothing like any cottage Hawke had ever seen. It was surrounded by subtle guarding spells and wards, but Merrill clearly knew how to get past them. Still, before they reached the door they were stopped by several mages, who looked wary. One of them looked vaguely familiar, and clearly the feeling was mutual.

“Roland Hawke! You’re alive?”

“… Alain?”

“I can’t believe this! I’m getting your sister right now!” Alain left running, but the rest of the group stayed behind. Merrill started a cheerful conversation, and the fact that both Merrill and Anders were clearly mages seemed to calm them down a bit.

“Brother!” It was Bethany, rushing towards him. Hawke opened his arms.

For a long time they stood there, hugging. Bethany was crying, and Hawke felt his own cheeks getting wet too. Then Bethany shoved him back.

“You idiot! Idiot! How could you do this to me?” She started crying again. “I thought I lost you too… You and mother and Carver and father, all dead. Never scare me like this again! Never!”

Hawke hugged her again, stroking her back soothingly. Really, she was less angry than he had thought she would be.

“I’m sorry. I will never, ever do that again, I promise. That particular thing especially. Believe me, I have no desire to repeat it.”

Bethany sniffled but looked up, clearly interested. “Did you really enter the Fade physically? How is that possible? You aren’t even a mage.” She turned to Anders and Merrill. “And you two. How in the world did you get him out of there? Because clearly that is what happened?”

Anders and Merrill looked at each other, and then Merrill opened her mouth. “Well it did require a bit of blood magic. I know you here are not the biggest fans, but it was safe, mostly. It was a variation of what the Tevinter magisters must have done to enter the Fade themselves. Only now, there are weak points all around in the Fade, and then of course Anders is an…” Merrill and the rest of the group started walking inside. Bethany took Hawke’s hand, and he followed her. Anders looked uncomfortable, but joined them at Hawke's request.

***

Anders was very uncomfortable. He was sure some of the mages recognized him, and some clearly resented him. He had also gotten some pats on the back and appreciative looks, but mostly people just left him alone. They were in a large room that clearly worked as some kind of common room for the mages here. Some of them were very young, probably apprentices from the Circle. Or children whose magic had manifested in the last few years. He felt guilty. The war needed to end, so the mages could start developing an order of their own.

Hawke was talking to Bethany, and Anders was resigned to sitting in the corner alone, when he noticed Alain coming towards him. He handed Anders a drink and sat next to him.

“We thought maybe you had died, too.”

“Yeah, well. I’m alive.” Anders hoped he could leave. He really did not want to have this conversation.

“Some people here hate you.”

Well, Alain, isn’t that great to hear. He didn’t want to ask it but couldn’t help himself. “Do you?”

“I don’t know. You forced a lot of people out of their homes and into a war. I can see why they would not like you.” Alain seemed to think. “No. I don’t hate you. Karras wanted to tranquil me, and Serah Hawke saved me. But Karras wasn’t the only crazy templar in Kirkwall. Or in other Circles.”

“That’s what I wanted to stop. I just… I don’t know.”

”Now it’s just easy to blame you for everything that happens. I couldn’t bear it, if I had done what you did.”

Anders smiled bitterly. “Are you suggesting I should kill myself?”

Alain looked horrified. “No! Absolutely not. I just meant… It was a big decision. And you did it for all of us. You shouldn’t have. But for me… I’m glad.”

Oh. He didn’t know what to say.

“I can’t take it back, even if I wished.”

“No, that you can’t do.” Alain sipped his drink, and Anders tasted his. Bad ale. They drank in silence, but it felt better than before. Companionable.

Chapter Text

They stayed at the rebel mage cottage for a few days, Hawke mostly spending time with Bethany. He felt a bit guilty about neglecting Anders, but he had not seen his little sister in years. Bethany was doing great, for the most part. She had been teaching children in the Gallows and continued that work here. She had explained how they had to search for children with magical abilities to rescue them from getting swept up in the war. It was just difficult with rebel templars all around. Still, she seemed content.

He was sitting in the garden of the cottage. It was getting chillier every day, and he had planned to leave soon, or otherwise they couldn’t cross the Waking Sea to Ferelden because of the winter storms. His thoughts were interrupted by Anders who sat down next to him.

“Hello, love. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” Anders smiled tightly and Hawke felt another pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry you had to come here. Maybe it would have been better if you stayed behind.”

Anders sighed and looked up. “No. This is good. As long as I don’t get murdered in my sleep, that is.”

“I should hope not.”

“I mean it. Some of the mages here really… hate me. And I do deserve it.”

“You don’t.”

“I do. I would do what I did again. But I need to be able to face the consequences.” Anders was quiet for a moment. “I’ve been thinking. I should be taking part in this war. The templars have no right to kill mages who are free from the Circles. They haven’t done anything wrong. Mages in Ferelden have joined the Inquisition, and I have heard they are taking in mages from elsewhere as well. But mages should be able to build communities themselves, teach children who manifest magic, and heal people, openly. Magic can be used for good, and it should not be illegal to do so. I want to help.”

Hawke took his hand. “Then that is what you need to do.”

Anders smiled and he smiled back.

***

They left the next morning, after several protests from Bethany, promises to come back, and a lot of blackmailing to get Merrill to join the mages. She remained steadfast in her resolution to help the Alienage, though, and Hawke was proud of her. He hugged Bethany tight and promised to see her again as soon as possible. In the Kirkwall harbor they parted with Merrill, who promised to let Isabela know about Hawke’s return from the dead.

“I don’t know if she gets my letters though. She is hard to contact, even harder than Fenris. I hope she gets this one. But what if she didn’t get the first one? She will be very confused.” Merrill frowned. “Or what if she only gets the first one? That would be bad!”

Hawke had to laugh at Merrill’s panic, and soon she did too. Then they were off.

The voyage took almost twice as long as usually, and the seas were rough. Still, Hawke loved to stand on the deck, looking at the raging storm and feeling water on his skin. Made him feel alive. Almost as alive as lying next to Anders in their cabin, holding him tight and knowing he was not going away. Some nights they even… Hawke grinned at the storm.

It was early winter when they arrived at the inn near Skyhold. Inquisitor’s Hand. How fitting. Powdery snow covered everything, although it was possible it would melt any minute. The days were short, and even though it was early afternoon, lanterns were lit around the village that had formed here after the Inquisition’s arrival. Sunlight lit the high peaks of the mountains, but down in the valley it was dark. Hawke had sent a letter to Varric and couldn’t wait to see him. He had missed Varric, and to think what he must have felt…

He pushed open the inn door, and they were greeted by blessed warmth. Kirkwall weather has made me soft. There was a large fire in the fireplace, and several groups of people drinking and talking. Hawke marched up to the innkeeper.

“Roland Amell. I wrote to you?”

“Ah yes, Amell. Like the Hero of Ferelden.” The innkeeper laughed. “Mr. Tethras is in a private cabinet. Has been there every day for two weeks now, actually. Shall I show you in?”

Hawke and Anders followed the innkeeper, who opened a door into a smaller room. Varric was standing in front of a fire but turned when he heard the door open. Hawke stepped in, shoved the innkeeper out and ran to him.

“Hawke! You’re crushing me!” Varric didn’t sound angry, so Hawke crushed him some more. Varric returned the hug.

“I missed you, you big bastard.”

“My parents were married, actually.”

Varric punched him. “And yet they produced a bastard. Shouldn’t be possible, now, should it?” Then he pulled back and… Sniffled. Hawke wasn’t sure he heard right.

“Varric Tethras, are you crying?”

“No. Prick. Something just got to my eye, that’s all.”

“I love you too, Varric.”

Varric looked uneasy. “Hawke, I… I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

“What.”

“The Fade. I should never have left you behind. It should have been me. I’m sorry.”

“Varric, you idiot. You haven’t been blaming yourself for it, have you?”

“Dammit, it was my fault!”

“It was not. Never say that. I’m glad you weren’t there, or I would have had Alistair manhandle you out of there.”

That didn’t change Varric’s downcast expression. Hawke punched him. “Hey. Not your fault, okay.”

“… Whatever you say, champion.” Then Varric grinned, if only a little. “Alistair, manhandle me. Please put some respect on my name. I could take Alistair.”

“In a fight, right?”

Varric didn’t answer that.

***

“…And then, a massive fucking bear walks straight to the camp! We’re all fucking exhausted, ready for a night or three of rest. but no. Bianca is almost out of arrows, and what about our blessed Inquisitor? She is hiding!” Varric laugh is contagious. “Good thing Seeker was there, or the Inquisition’s story would have ended in those paws. And mine, too.”

“Yeah, I could not bear that.”

“Very funny, Hawke.”

Anders smiled. “So, Varric, according to you, the Hero that is supposed to save us all is a trembling coward, a second-rate mage, and mostly proficient in avoiding responsibility?”

“Yeah, that’s about it”, Varric said and chuckled. “She has a way of growing on you, though. Like a puppy that is used to being kicked around and now is learning how to trust people. She had some bad experiences in the Circle, I hear.”

“Who doesn’t”, Anders said bitterly, but didn’t push the issue.

“At least Curly is doing her some good. This is new, though. Hadn’t happened yet when you were here, Hawke.”

Hawke looked interested. “Who was Curly again?”

Varric looked sly. “You know him too, Blondie. The Inquisitor is completely, deeply in love with…” Varric held a dramatic pause. “Knight-captain – excuse me – Commander Cullen Rutherford.”

Hawke and Anders burst out laughing, and Varric looked self-satisfied.

“Cullen! I can’t believe it.” Hawke was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “He can’t do her much good though. Probably doesn’t know what hole to stick it into.”

Varric laughed. “I mean, he has changed since his Kirkwall years. If he just keeps his mouth shut, that is.”

“Yeah, he did look quite good… Alas, I am not into templars.” Hawke leaned in to kiss Anders, who punched him jokingly. “All these stories of the Inquisitor, Varric. When’s the book coming out?”

“Continuing my stories on our modern-day heroes.” Varric scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Only one I’m missing is the Hero of Ferelden. Elusive woman.”

“Yeah, have never met her, even though we are related. Anders has though, haven’t you?”

Anders blinked. He had been distracted by Hawke’s face. “What?”

“You have met the Hero of Ferelden?”

“Oh yes. Even worked for her, in a way, when I was a Warden. And we were in the Circle together, although not very close.”

“What was she like?”

“Star-student at the Circle. Very proper, very quiet. Pretty too, although never did answer to my flirtations.” Anders pretended to look sad. “Religious.”

Varric had put down his ale and pulled out a pen, ink and paper. “Interesting. That does sound like the official description, but I have heard through some… contacts, that she took part in a significant crime wave in Denerim during the Blight.”

Anders burst out his drink and laughed. “Cwenwyn Amell? A criminal? No way. Never.” He thought for a moment. “She did surround herself by some… questionable people. Myself included of course. Never met a criminal she didn’t think she could put on the straight and narrow.”

“Didn’t work for you, love, did it?” Hawke laughed and got up. “I will get us more drinks.”

Sitting alone with Varric was a bit awkward, considering their last meeting. Anders was about to say something, but Varric beat him to it.

“Look, Blondie. I’m sorry. About what I said last time. I was hurting, but it ain’t an excuse.” Varric cleared his throat. “I don’t always agree with your… craziness, but Hawke… He loves you. You’re good together. And you saved him. Thank you.”

Anders smiled faintly. “No problem. It was my pleasure.”

Varric chuckled. “Don’t hurt him again, though. I won’t answer for my actions if you do.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Hawke’s head was aching. Again. Reunions do not suit me. At least he was in a bed, with someone’s hand wrapped around his chest. Hopefully Anders’. Hawke took a deep breath and looked down. Nope, not Anders. But it was Varric’s, so that was fine enough. But where was Anders? What had happened last night anyway?

They had been drinking and sharing stories. Anders had told a good one about his fourth escape from the Circle tower. It had involved a lot of scaling down upright tower walls. And then? Fuck. Hawke had claimed he could do it too. Varric, the bastard, had offered him a chance to show off his skills on the Skyhold’s watchtower. Why does drinking always make me so boastful?

He ended up with only some bruises, and a few broken bones Anders had healed. They were then chased out of the castle by an angry older man who chastised them for waking the horses. Explained Varric’s presence, then.

Hawke decided it was time to get up, but his movement alerted Varric.

“Mmh. What’re you doing? Let a dwarf sleep.”

“Go to your own damn bed, Varric.”

“…Hawke?”

“Who did you think I was?”

Varric opened his eyes fully and looked up. “None of your damn business.”

Hawke lifted his eyebrows. “So you were imagining someone? I’m shocked. I thought we were monogamous.” He looked around. “Speaking of that. Where is Anders?”

Immediately after he asked, the door to their room opened, and Anders waltzed in. He looked annoyingly cheerful.

“Good morning, handsome.” Then he put on an expression of mock astonishment. “Hawke! Who is that tramp?”

“Hilarious, Blondie. Have you considered the other woman might be you?”

Anders grinned. “Oh Varric. Maybe you will be cheered up by the goods I’m offering.”

The goods turned out to be a hearty breakfast, and for a while Varric and Hawke focused on gobbling down sausages and bacon.

After the breakfast they said their goodbyes to Varric. It was harder than Hawke expected. He had said goodbye to Varric many times. Maybe it’s knowing some day it will be the last time. Varric snapped his fingers.

“You alright, champion?”

“Stellar. Just got lost in my thoughts.”

Varric looked doubtful but continued talking. “As I was saying, you and Blondie better make off before the proper members of the Inquisition return from Halamshiral. I’m sure the Inquisitor would be nothing but happy to find you alive here, with Blondie in tow, but the same cannot be said for all of them. Especially for our Seeker. I’m not sure I can manage another interrogation about your whereabouts, Hawke.”

Hawke grinned. “Are you sure? You do talk a great deal about her. Especially when drunk off your ass.”

“Keep my ass out of your filthy mouth and get going.”

***

They had discussed several destinations, but when Hawke had expressed a wish to visit Lothering Anders had agreed immediately. It was not like they were in any immediate danger. It occurred to Anders that they were actually both presumed dead in most circles.

They were making their way through the Hinterlands, which were desolate at this time of the year. Even though the Inquisition had done its best to stop the war between mages and templars, Anders still didn’t feel comfortable in the area. No one had cleared out the results of the war, and abandoned campsites and human remains were littered throughout the landscape. The few travelers they came across were vary of strangers, especially mages, since there were still rogue templars in the area. Anders tried to keep up conversation with Hawke to keep his nerves steady.

“Is this your first time visiting Lothering after the Blight?”

“No, me and Bethany came here after I was no longer… at home in Kirkwall. We brought Mother’s ashes here, to bury them next to Father’s.” Hawke smiled sadly. “We also made a little memorial for Carver. Didn’t have a chance for that when he died.”

Anders felt like slapping himself. Great choice of subject. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.”

“It’s alright. I just thought, after visiting everybody else, I’d also visit them.”

“Of course.” He needed to talk about something else. “I have not visited my home village after I was taken to the Circle.”

“We can go together, if you’d like.”

“I have actually never thought about returning. Not after everything that happened to me.”

Hawke looked thoughtful. “Your parents might still be alive, right?”

“I looked into that during my time as a Grey Warden, but no, they had both died during the Blight.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Hawke turned and took Anders’ hand. “You still have me. I love you.”

“I love you t –“, Anders started to say, when he was interrupted by screams coming from the forest. “What is that?”

Hawke shrugged. “Do you want to go look?”

“Don’t you?”

“Let’s hope it’s something we can defeat with magic and swords, then.”

The screaming had stopped for a while, but then it started again. They ran towards the noise, and emerged in a forest clearing. First thing Anders noticed were the bodies. Several templars and what he assumed were rebel mages. Then he saw the source of the screaming. A mage, approached by a templar who was clearly going to kill him. Anders grabbed his staff, planning to put a crushing prison on the templar.

Nothing happened. For a second he just stared at his staff, but then he saw the templar lifting his sword. He ran.

“Anders!”

He was too late. Only a second, and the mage was dead. The templar turned towards him.

“Another apostate?”

Anders tried to call on his magic, but nothing came. His hands felt weak, like he couldn’t even lift his staff. The templar walked towards him. Anders was frozen in place. I’m going to die.

The thought had barely materialized, when the templar’s head was cut off by a powerful swing. Hawke rushed towards him.

“Anders! What happened? Are you alright?”

“…I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you defend yourself? You scared the shit out of me.”

Anders looked down, at his trembling hands. “My magic didn’t work.”

“Didn’t work? Is that possible? Do you need a lyrium potion?”

Anders concentrated, but there was nothing wrong. He could feel the magic, constant living presence in his mind, as strong as it had been when it manifested. He said I would change. Anders felt sick.

“Get me out of here. Please.”

Hawke looked confused but complied without asking more questions.

They walked some more, but soon camped for the night. Hawke set up a tent and built a fire in silence. Anders knew he was useless, but he couldn’t find the energy to do anything.

Hawke touched his knee gently. “Love, are you alright? Speak to me.”

“I think it’s Justice.”

“Stopping you from using your magic?”

“I’m fairly certain I can use my magic.” Anders pulled up his sleeve. “Make a wound.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just indulge me. I can heal it.”

Hawke did as he asked, and Anders healed the tiny wound easily. Like nothing was wrong. Anders tried several other spells. They didn’t work.

“Anders? What is going on? I don’t understand.”

“I think… I can’t use any magic that isn’t healing.” What was it Justice had said? “In the Fade, Justice said that we would merge. But not as Vengeance. Something else.”

Hawke frowned. “As something else? Like what?”

“Vengeance was a twisted form of Justice. I don’t know what this is.” His head ached, and he noticed he had clenched his fists. “He died. The mage. Because I couldn’t do anything.”

“It was not your fault.”

“Maybe not, but was it justice?” Anders laughed grimly. “All those years I wished I had not made the deal with Justice. It was harsh. But Justice tried to do what was right. To help people. Maybe this is my punishment. I failed to do that. My actions didn’t bring justice, they just brought more pain to everyone. So it made part of me Tranquil.”

“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well clearly something happened! My magic is there. I can feel it. But when I try to use the spells I could do in my dreams, something goes wrong.”

“Why would Justice punish you for what you did? You did those things together.”

“But I twisted him into Vengeance.”

Hawke put his both hands on Anders’ knees and made circles with his thumbs. “Anders… You didn’t know what would happen when you joined with Justice. Yes, it did end up hurting both of you, but… I don’t think Justice wanted to punish you.”

Anders pinched his nose and sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry, I’m really tired. Can we sleep now?”

Chapter Text

It took them days to reach Lothering, and Anders continued to be closed-off. Hawke didn’t know what to do. When Anders had told him Justice was gone, he had been happy. Had he wished Anders would change, be more… meek? He hoped not. He had fell in love with Anders as he was. An apostate, passionate about changing the world. Even after what had happened, he had no wish to be the one to punish Anders. He understood why Anders had done what he did. But why would Justice want to punish Anders either? Surely it understood why they did what they did. Something else must have happened.

Anders did not want to discuss the matter, though, and Hawke did not push it.

It was afternoon on their seventh travelling day, when Hawke started to recognize where they were. The Blight had deserted the land, but ten years had been enough time for life to find its way back to the area. Some people said that the Blight made the land toxic for years. Maybe that was true, but Hawke was glad to discover it did not stop things from growing. It was winter, so trees and bushes were mostly leafless, but he could see heathers from under the snow, and several oaks that still held on to their leaves. The winter was often thought to be devoid of colour, but that was not true. Hawke could see shades of grey, brown, red, and dark green, all under the soft white cover of snow.

When he knew exactly where they were, he stepped away from the remains of the road they had been following, into the untouched snow. Anders followed without a word. Only a small while, and they reached the scorched remains of where the house Hawke's had lived in had been. They crossed a still running stream behind the house and came to a large rock. Hawke dug snow next to it until he discovered a small stone plate.

Malcolm Hawke

8:83 – 9:27

Leandra Amell Hawke

8:86 – 9:34

Carver Hawke

9:12 – 9:30

Hawke cleared it from snow thoroughly and sat down.

“I didn’t bring them anything. I didn’t think.”

He heard Anders moving and looked up. Anders was offering him a small wooden mabari statuette.

“What is this?”

“I got it from you, years ago. To remind me of Ferelden. I don’t know, maybe it isn’t what you had in mind, or…”

“Thank you.”

Anders nodded, and walked away.

Hawke placed the statuette by the stone.

“Hello mother. Father. And Carver. It’s me. No Bethany this time.” He felt stupid. He had always been bad at this. “Has been a while. Nearly died, myself. I thought, maybe it would not be so bad if I could be with you. Hopefully somewhere peaceful. It has been rough, but I’m sure you know that already. Our lives were never easy. But it has been lonely. I miss you. Yes, Carver, even you.” Hawke could almost hear Carver objecting. His chest felt like something was pressing against his lungs, and he could feel his eyes filling with tears. It was cold, and the snow was soaking through his pants, but he didn’t move.

He didn’t hear Anders moving through the snow, but suddenly a hand was put on his shoulder. Anders stroked his back gently while Hawke cried.

“It’s okay. You didn’t fail them, any of them. They loved you. You deserve to live. You deserve happiness. None of them would want you to give up.”

Hawke felt like a little of the weight had been lifted off his back.

“Thank you.” He looked up at Anders, and was confused to see him staring back looking disoriented. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes, sorry. I just… I don’t know why I said that.”

Hawke smiled a bit. “Maybe you thought I needed it. You’re kind of ruining it now, though.”

Anders shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I do mean it.”

Hawke could see he was still confused, though. He got up and brushed snow off his pants. “Let’s go. It will be dark soon and I want to see the village before we set camp.”

***

Hawke led Anders around what had once been the village of Lothering. To Anders it seemed like any other Fereldan village, much like the one where he had been born. Ruins of the chantry and a tavern, and the skeleton of the Imperial Highway that bordered the village. In the darkening winter afternoon it created an imposing sight. Clearly even the Blight was no match for Tevinter infrastructure.

“How long did you live here?”

Hawke was quiet for a while. “I can’t remember. We moved here after Bethany’s magic manifested. Life wasn’t easy as an apostate family. We were constantly on the run. But here we stayed the longest. We might have left had… Had father not died. But when he did, it felt more important to stay here, somehow. Like we would still have him, as long as we didn’t move on.”

“I understand. Leaving your home behind is hard.”

“It is. Lothering was the first place that had time to become a home, for all of us.” Hawke looked down and his expression soured. “I had hoped that I could create a home for my family in Kirkwall. But all it did was tear us apart.”

Anders didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. But you had Lothering, and the memories from here. I lost my only home when my magic manifested. Your family made sure that was not Bethany’s fate.”

“You’re right.” Hawke turned to direction of the road. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about my hardships.”

“It’s all right. I am here for you, okay?”

“I know. Thank you.” Hawke took Anders’ hand and started leading him back to the road. “Let’s camp while we can still see something.”

***

Later, when they were going to sleep in their tent, Hawke brought up Anders’ behavior at the grave.

“What happened at the grave? You seemed lost.”

“I don’t know. I wanted to come to comfort you, and then… It felt like someone was speaking through me.”

“Hmm.” Hawke stroked Anders’ back. He had an idea, and this strengthened his suspicions. “What did Justice say to you, about what would happen between the two of you?”

Anders turned to face him. “Why are you asking?”

“I’ve been thinking. I don’t think Justice would want to punish you. It was very focused on your mission, and it was trying to turn you into Vengeance as well. But now… Something different? Maybe it explains what has happened to you. What would be another form of Justice?”

Anders stared back at him. “What are you suggesting?”

“I just think… Justice is using you as an instrument. Maybe… Maybe he wants you to be something different? An instrument of mercy? Kindness?”

“I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be his instrument.”

“I know.”

“But I can’t change it now? Is that what you are going to say?”

“…I’m sorry.”

Anders sighed. “I’m sorry. You are right.” He rolled on his back. “I have been thinking. As you may have noticed. Whatever this is, a punishment or a new form of Justice, I cannot change it. I made my choice years ago. Now I have to live with it or give up. So, I suppose, I’m trying to choose to live with it. I can still heal. I can help people.”

“And I will protect you.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

You could. “I want to do it.”

“Hawke – “, Anders started.

“I want to. I promised you. I would go where you would lead me.”

“But you can’t live like that. I can’t decide what you will do. I don’t want you to grow resentful of me. I don’t want to be a burden to you.” Anders brushed his arm. “What do you want?”

What do I want? He didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t want Anders to leave him. He didn’t want to die alone, either. He hadn’t wanted to die at all. But what now when he hadn’t?

“I want to be with you. I love you. I just… I don’t want to… to be alone. I don’t want to die alone.” Hawke turned away. “Maker, this is stupid. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just… Think about it. I know I tried to warn you off back then, ages ago. I guess that was foolish of me. But I want you to know what you choose. There are so many things I can't give you.”

Hawke felt Anders turning away from him, and his breath stabilizing into a restful rhythm. He could not sleep. The words of the Nightmare kept repeating in his head.

Anders is going to die. Just like your family and everyone you ever cared about.

He didn’t want that. He wanted Anders. He wanted a future for them. He had seen it in the dreams Desire inflicted upon him. It was painful to wake up from them. But this was not a dream. This was something he was not going to give up.

Chapter Text

From Lothering they decided to go to Denerim. Where to from there, they had not discussed, but Anders knew Denerim was only a stop on a way forward. They avoided talking about things past Denerim, and every mile they closed in on the city made the knot in Anders’ stomach grow tighter and tighter. Every night he fell asleep next to Hawke in their tent wondering how long it was going to last. Part of him wanted to take back everything he had said and just accept Hawke’s offer of protection. But he knew he couldn’t do that.

It was selfish enough of him to continue taking advantage of Hawke’s love. He couldn’t possibly rope Hawke in to protecting Anders for the rest of their lives. No matter how much he wanted to. So all he could do was continue their journey, pretending he didn’t dread every step he took towards Denerim, towards the eventual decision they would have to make.

His mood was not eased by the fact that he had little use for his magic these days. He could feel the power he held inside him, and yearned for something to use it on, but the two of them didn’t need that much healing. Sometimes he wanted to ask Hawke to hurt him just so he could heal himself and use his magic on something, anything.

If Hawke noticed his mood, he didn’t comment on it. He seemed to be deep in his thoughts most of the time, barely making conversation during the long hours they walked. Anders would have asked what was wrong if he weren’t terrified of every conversation Hawke started, fearing the eventual rejection he was sure was coming.

After a week or so of silent travel Anders was almost relieved to see the walls of the city rising in front of them. At least he would not have to live in this uncertainty anymore.

It had been a long time since his last visit to Denerim, and the city had changed substantially. The battle of Denerim during the Blight had apparently wrecked the city quite badly, and obviously it had been rebuilt during the last ten years. Even after all that time it was easy to see where buildings were older, and where the city had been rebuilt.

Still, at least the districts remained roughly the same. Anders led them away from the market district into the seedier – and cheaper – parts of the city. In his last visit he had stayed in a decent inn near the Pearl, and he suspected the place would still stand. The owner didn’t seem like the type that would be defeated by a few legions of darkspawn or an archdemon.

His instinct proved correct, and soon they were standing in front of the Bann’s Daughter. Even the sign looked the same, depicting a woman dressed in a gown Anders doubted any actual Bann’s daughter would be seen in. He turned to Hawke.

“Well, this is it.”

***

Hawke was standing in the port, looking at the Drakon river flowing towards the Amaranthine Ocean. The day was grey and cold, clouds heavy over the sea. Still, Hawke felt more at peace than he had in days. He closed his eyes and took in the scent of the port, tar and salt and fish. They should try to bottle this.

Anders had been quiet and bereft during the journey, and Hawke felt guilty for not trying to cheer him up. He had just been too deep in thought, thinking about their future. Even though Anders’ powers had changed, he would still want to take part in helping the mages of Thedas. A noble effort, but not the one to bring in much money. Luckily making coin was something Hawke excelled at.

He had enquired after departing ships from the port master and discovered that even in the middle of winter there were ships heading out of Denerim. Now they only needed to decide where they would go. Anders would do what he did best, heal and help people, and Hawke would do what he did best. Take care of his family.

He was afraid he had latched on to Anders too strongly after his rescue from the Fade. It had been confusing and scary, to be back in the world, but also freeing, exhilarating in a way he would not have guessed. But Anders was right. He needed to have a reason, a purpose he would live for. That was what he had lacked in the four years after Kirkwall, and that was what had made it so easy to give up his life in the Fade. But now he had a reason. He had a family, someone to protect, and someone to build a home with. Hawke thought of his mother and father, of Carver and Bethany, of the friends he had made in Kirkwall. He thought of what he had been looking for all his life. He was a simple man. He wanted a home.

Hawke took in one more deep breath of the port air, and turned to return to the inn. Maybe he should buy Anders something. Something nice and pretty. Hawke smiled and whistled as he walked.

***

Anders was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. There were weird faces in the wood, staring back at him. Hawke had been gone for a while now. He wasn’t worried, not really. Hawke would never leave like this. But still, he couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling that had taken hold of him.

There was a knock on the door and Anders sat up.

“Hello?”

The door opened and Hawke came in, smiling widely.

Anders frowned. “Why did you knock?”

“Just felt like it. Why?”

He stretched back on the bed. “No reason.”

Hawke closed the door behind him, and sat on the bed next to Anders.

“I have been neglecting you. I’m sorry.”

Anders didn’t want to look at Hawke, but he had to. “It’s okay. You had a lot to think about.” He swallowed. “Have you… thought about it? What I said and… Where you want to go now?”

Hawke was serious now. He nodded and took Anders’ hand in his. “You asked me what I wanted to do, and I know it now. You were right, it was unfair of me to place my life on your shoulders.”

He paused, and Anders felt his own breath getting laboured. It was okay. I can take it. It was stupid to suggest otherwise I take it back please don’t leave.

Hawke looked up and seemed to consider his next words. “After my father died, and then the Blight came, and we had to leave Ferelden, I was lost. But I had to take care of my family, and it gave me purpose. We came to Kirkwall, and then suddenly I had my hands full. There was so much to do. After the Chantry explosion, I was facing the same situation again. I was lost. I tried to latch on to Bethany, and we visited Ferelden together. But she had grown up. She knew what she wanted. When she left me to join the mages, I was so alone, for the first time in my life, and that was… That was extremely hard for me.”

Anders pressed Hawke’s hand, but he didn’t know what to say. Luckily Hawke continued.

“After that I took many meaningless jobs. Guarding merchants and expeditions into the Deep Roads, killing bandits, that sort of stuff. I even worked with the Grey Wardens for a bit.” He smiled. “But that didn’t make me feel better. When I could help Varric and the Inquisition, I was truly happy for the first time in years. I was needed again. Well, then what happened you already know.”

“You died. Kind of.”

“Yes. But you saved me.” Hawke caressed Anders’ cheek, so gently Anders felt like crying. “You asked me what I want now. But what I want, Anders, has not changed. I have always been a simple man. I want a family. I want a home. And I want them with you. I love you.”

Anders felt like all the air was suddenly knocked out of him. “I… I don’t understand.”

Hawke laughed softly. “What I mean is, where we go now, doesn’t matter to me. I want you to live the life you have chosen, to help the mages. I will find a job of some kind. Shouldn’t be too hard, I’m a skilled man. And then, after the day’s work is done, we will go home. Together.”

Now he was crying. Tears fell down his cheeks, and he did nothing to stop them. “I… I thought maybe… Maybe you would leave me. That you finally realized I would be too much of a burden to you.”

Hawke’s expression was heartbreaking, and Anders regretted his words immediately. “Oh love. I’m so so sorry. Why would you think that? I’m so sorry. I love you. I don’t want to leave, not ever. I want to be with you until the day we die.”

Anders nodded and tried to get a hold of himself. “I love you too. I also… I also want that.” He leaned in to hesitantly and kissed Hawke. Hawke returned the kiss immediately, his lips a bit dry. Anders could taste the salt from tears, his own or Hawke’s.

“So, where to, now? You want to contact some mages, probably?”

Anders rested his head against Hawke. “Even this. You have supported this, always, even though it is not your cause. I don’t deserve you.”

Hawke shook his head. “Oh Anders. Sometimes you are a fool.” He lifted Anders’ head. “Not my cause? The most important people in my life, you and Bethany, are both mages. It is my cause.”

Anders didn’t know what to say. This was too much. “… Don’t let Varric hear you say that.”

Hawke laughed.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I got you something.” He pulled out a little pouch from his pocket, and Anders opened it. It held a little silvery hawk-shaped brooch.

“Maybe it’s a bit foolish, I don’t know.” Hawke looked bashful. “I just thought, I don’t know, I wanted something to give to you. You gave your mabari to me, for the grave.”

This was it, Anders decided. He was going to die happily.

“It’s perfect.”

***

Later, when they were lying on a tiny cot in a ship on its way to Ostwick, and Anders was holding Hawke, his head on Anders’ chest, Anders knew he had been wrong. He didn’t want to die, not yet. He wanted to live this life first.

Chapter Text

A man with longish blonde hair and a little grey in his stubble was healing a little boy. Around him a group of older children followed his every movement with watchful eyes. The boy was lying on a carpet outside. It was a beautiful summer’s day, and a garden next to a little house was in full bloom. The branches were heavy with berries and fruits, and lazy bees buzzed around the flowers. The man finished, and the boy sat up, waving his hand around to show everyone it was no longer broken. The children asked questions, and then scattered fast when the man waved them off. He knew they had better things to do on a day like this than follow teaching. Children were not meant for constant study. Children were not meant to live inside stone towers.

Another man walked towards him. Years had made his mustache even more prominent, and his hair was wavy on his shoulders. He was holding a large tabby cat, whose fur shined beautifully in the sun. The cat looked a bit guilty, though.

“Looks like Ser Pounce-a-lot the Second is going to be a proud father. Again.” Hawke looked at the cat most accusingly. Ser the Second started purring.

Anders couldn’t help but laugh. “What can I say? He is a most vigorous knight.”

“He should learn how to keep it in his pants”, Hawke said, but smiled. The cat got tired of this and made his protest evident. Hawke released him.

“Same could be said of you, no?” Anders smiled teasingly, and Hawke lifted his eyebrows.

“Shocking accusations.” He stepped closer and attacked Anders, catching him in a crushing hug. “I have been given my lessons on the birds and the bees.”

Anders smiled and leaned back into Hawke’s embrace. Hawke pressed his face into Anders’ hair. “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

“You may have, but I can always stand to hear it again.”

“I love you.”

I love you. I love you. I love you.