Chapter Text
Anders smiled awkwardly at the other.
“That was…sorry. I got really emotional there, huh?”
“I think we both did. I don’t think anyone can blame us given you somehow cured my Tranquillity. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Don’t be shocked if I start having another crying fit again, everything is — a lot .” Maddox blew out a breath and went to take a seat on the barrel before pausing and taking Anders' forearm to make him follow. Anders gave a small titter of amusement.
“You can just ask. I won’t stray far.”
“Maker, I’m sorry in advance. You’re basically stuck with me, aren’t you? How will this even work…” Maddox deflated, shoulders drooping as he sighed. “You don’t even know me and now Sam’s gonna make us share a room.”
“We were both raised in the Circle. Sharing a bunk won’t kill us. We hardly retain a sense of modesty either if you’re concerned about using the chamber pot.” Anders joked to help lighten the mood, but Maddox only flushed with embarrassment.
“Oh Maker. Take me now. I’m so sorry.”
“I was just kidding! Please don’t call the Maker, I swear he meddles enough in my life, and not in a good way.”
“You said this has happened to you before, didn’t you? Reversing Tranquillity.” Maddox looked at him, brows furrowed ever so slightly in curiosity. It only served to make him look even more doe-like with his soft, narrow features. Anders' heart panged.
“I…yes. It was an accident. I hadn’t even realised what I’d really done until you started hugging Samson like he might disappear.” Maddox had the decency to look embarrassed, rubbing his hand over the prickles of his scalp.
“Did you know the Tranquil? The one you accidentally woke up?”
“Is that what it felt like? Waking up?” He didn’t want to talk about Karl.
“Sort of. Yes and no. It’s hard to put into words.” Maddox grimaced. “Did you, though?”
Fuck. He had to talk about Karl. To someone, anyone.
“I…I did. He was my lover.” Anders admitted, a lump growing in his throat. He swallowed it down. “We were together for almost two years in Kinloch Hold. Yes, that one, the one that was almost annulled because of blood magic and demons, if you’ve ever heard of it. We were friends even longer. Then we passed our Harrowings and the Templars found out barely six months after that. They took him to Kirkwall. To the Gallows.”
“Oh…”
“His name was Karl. Karl Thekla.” Saying his name out loud made his insides feel raw despite how long it had been.
“I’m so sorry. I- I vaguely remember there being a transfer from a Ferelden Circle when I was young, but I didn’t interact much with transfers. If we had any, they were usually from Starkhaven, and kept to themselves.”
“I see.” Anders nodded softly. “I wouldn’t expect you two to be friends anyway. He would have been a fair bit older than you by then anyway. He was eighteen when he left, and we didn’t meet again until he was thirty two.”
“How old are you?” Maddox asked, and Anders laughed.
“You’re not supposed to ask a woman her age.”
“You’re not a woman…are you?” Maddox looked him over twice and Anders snorted.
“No. I’m just being an ass. I’m thirty seven.” He paused and frowned. “Wait. No. Four years have passed. It’s…what, on the cusp of winter now? I’m probably forty one.” Did it count if he didn’t age? He shouldn’t be complaining. He had an excuse to ignore the eventual arthritis a couple more years.
“Oh. You’re older than me.”
“How old are you? You look young.”
“I got the brand when I was twenty one. I’m thirty one now. I think my birthday is soon actually. Age didn’t seem like an important thing while Tranquil. I almost forgot.”
“I wish I looked like you at thirty one.” Anders grumbled. “Never become a Grey Warden. Terrible for your skin. So many Deep Road-induced wrinkles.”
“You’re a Grey Warden?” Maddox looked in awe at the information and Anders snorted.
“Yes and no. I was an active member for a short period and then I uh, let a spirit of Justice possess me and ran away to Kirkwall. To find Karl. Help mages. So I’m an ex-Warden, but I get to keep all the physical benefits of sensing darkspawn, Archdemon nightmares, a shortened lifespan…all the fun stuff.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. You’ve uh, lived a very interesting life, I won’t lie. I’m almost jealous. I was stuck in the Circle most of my life. I wasn’t even that good at magic. I was better at being a blacksmith like my parents. Still. I had magic, so I had to stay, weak as it was. I only really got to have any kind of adventure after the Gallows when Sam took me under his wing. I couldn’t even enjoy it.” Maddox grumbled softly. “Recently though…being able to make things for Sam’s cause is the closest thing to joy I have felt in a long time.”
“I’m sorry that you suffered in the Gallows. It was unforgivable what they did to you. I was trying so hard over the years to make them see what they were doing was wrong and…in the end, violence seemed to be the only way to change things. It might be the only way to start changing things. I just wish it wouldn’t cost so many lives to overthrow the real oppressors.” Anders sighed, looking away. He remembered how Sebastian called him a murderer. It was only days ago for him. He hadn’t been wrong, and even though they had bickered and fought for years, he felt for the prince who had lost everything he knew for the past decade because he was down to his last straw. It was Elthina or the Mages, and he had to stand with his people.
A calloused hand took his own, fingers short and rounded compared to his spidery digits, long, thin and inelegant with their crookedness. He had broken his fingers many times over the course of his life. Sometimes it was his own fault, and sometimes it was punishment. He smiled at the younger man gratefully and squeezed. He was a sweet man now that the emotionless trance had been removed.
“You and Sam are fighting for a good cause, even if it becomes violent to see results. All war is bloody. Life for people like us has always been war, I think... I’m glad you have a good head on your shoulders though. That you don’t want violence. I think Sam might need that. Someone who’ll pull him back when he gets too deep in the anger. He cares so much for his troops, for all of us, but now I worry…because I can worry, I guess.” Maddox laughed softly and shook his head in amusement, but those hazel eyes held pools of concern for his friend.
“I worry he’ll do some unforgivable things to complete his goals. Not for him, but for all of us. I worry he’ll fall on his own sword to win this war. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want him to lose himself either.”
“You won’t lose him. If I can take a sword to the gut and live, I’m sure I can keep him alive too.” Anders promised. “Sometimes you have to do terrible things to prove a point. He might…need your forgiveness, rather than the world’s, to find his own.”
He thought of Hawke. Would he forgive him for all of this? He was always so understanding in his own brash way.
It was quiet between them as Maddox sat there, looking thoughtful, his calloused fingers cool and rough against his heated skin. It was strange to feel the temperature difference between someone not taking the lyrium and himself.
“Something tells me you’d be shocked to find out Samson is thirty eight.” Anders choked on his tongue.
“You’re kidding!” He covered his mouth. “Oh, that sounds mean. I have nothing against the man, I just assumed he was a little older. Closer to, well, my current age.”
“Close enough. The withdrawals weren’t easy. I was there for some of it. I couldn’t do much comforting as I was, but he felt better when he wasn’t alone. He spent a decade in and out of withdrawal. Nothing is worse for one’s health than stress.” Maddox bit his lip and looked at Anders cautiously. “I…can tell you’ve lived rough too. Not to say you aged poorly, I just— You…radiate sadness.”
Anders gave a shocked laugh.
“You’re stupidly bold. I should turn you into a crisp for that.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”
“You can’t tell someone they look like they’ve ‘lived rough’, and expect them not to be offended!” Anders squawked and Maddox pursed his lips, looking almost guilty if not for the glimmer of mirth in his eyes.
“If it helps, you're still very handsome. For your age.” Anders rolled his eyes and was half tempted to shove the younger off the barrel.
“I am. Exceedingly handsome and very vain. Keep that in mind to avoid my wrath.” Justice chuckled beneath his skin, eyes flickering and mouth tugged upwards in a smile.
Maddox gave a small shudder, and looked ready to ask another question before the tent opened once more.
“Why don’t you own chairs, Maddox?” Samson sighed as he placed the bowls of a meat heavy stew upon the work bench. Maddox scurried over to move them off his space, untangling their hands in the process.
“I don’t sit. Why would I when I don’t acknowledge pain outside of inconvenience?”
Samson grimaced.
“Fair point.” He grunted and made himself comfortable on the floor. Anders followed suit with a small groan, mostly out of habit rather than pain. He felt weirdly spry for his age. He should thank the red lyrium, he supposed.
Maddox dragged the barrel closer to the pair and perched on top of it with his bowl, crossing his legs to give his bowl somewhere to sit comfortably.
“Usually the youth are supposed to give up their seats for the elderly.” Anders remarked haughtily and Maddox snorted.
“You two were already on the floor. Doesn’t mean I have to be.” Samson rolled his eyes and pulled one leg up to rest his elbow on his knee, spooning a piece of meat into his mouth. Anders gave the stew a taste for himself and hummed. It was leagues above the Hanged Man’s food. He could never tell what their mystery meat was, but this at least was definitely rabbit.
“Do you have designated cooks or…?”
“The troops swap shifts. Though, a few are banned. Markus almost poisoned us with his cooking.” Samson shook his head, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Fuckin’ foul. Tasted like piss. Might have been.”
“Good to know this camp has standards at least.” Anders chuckled. “The crap I’ve eaten while on the run — I thought the Hanged Man was a delicacy when I first arrived in Kirkwall. Probably the hunger talking rather than the taste of it.”
“Eh, Hanged Man wasn’t so bad. At least they didn’t serve porridge. Was sick of that shit after I left the Order. Every damn morning; you’d think we were Chantry Brothers with a vow of poverty.”
“Maker, the porridge! Every morning in the Circle. The Chantry has to have the biggest hard on for that stuff. I saved my bowl once to tip over the head of our swim instructor. Teach them to leave windows unlocked after banning me from the lake. It was the worst summer too, for Ferelden at least. First heatwave in twenty years.” Anders still remembered how his robes stuck to every inch of him. The only good part about that summer was that the storage room was still quite cool, and enough sweaty young mages out of sight of Templars made for quite the experience. He healed a plethora of fun bruises on himself and a few others afterwards.
“Why did they ban you from the lake?” Maddox queried curiously.
“I was an escape artist. They couldn’t keep me inside that tower for long if I had my say in the matter. They banned me from swimming with the other apprentices after I took the chance to swim from one side of the lake to the other and bolt. The lesson I learned? Swimming in your robe sucks. Get naked first and just carry them.”
Maddox’s eyes bugged out in horror.
“And they caught you? What did they do to you for that?” Anders made a vague noise in the back of his throat and spooned some of the stew into his mouth so he could think on his response.
“Gave me the standard whipping. I got off easy in my Circle, compared to what was happening in the Gallows. I probably would have been branded as a teen if I didn’t have my First Enchanter, Irving, to vouch for my Spirit Healing. It’s a rarer magic, and extremely useful. I even took my Harrowing earlier than most on Greagoir’s insistence. Irving and him thought I’d be safer as an Enchanter rather than an apprentice.” Maddox gave a small smile, like he was glad Anders had people looking out for him, and that only made Anders' neck feel hot with old anger. He should let Maddox think there was some good in the world.
“You hated Irving!” Justice raged and Anders groaned internally. “He allowed others to suffer and kept you only for your usefulness! Deceitful, all of them!” Anders forced the spirit back so he could speak, gritting his teeth.
“That’s not a topic for dinner, Justice.” He snipped and his hands flared, a spoonful of warm stew hitting his cheek. “Oh, that’s just childish!” He rucked his shirt up to wipe his face with a disgusted noise.
“I do not like lies.”
“I didn’t lie. Irving did keep me from the brand.”
“Omission of the whole truth is still a lie!”
“That is not how that works.” Anders rolled his eyes.
“Do you two need a minute?” Samson looked at him with apprehension and Anders sighed.
“Ignore him. Usually I can keep his lips zipped but it’s harder than ever right now. I’d gladly have this conversation in our own head if it worked that way. I can feel what he feels, and I can kind of gauge his thoughts from that, but he really loves talking sometimes. Unfortunately, the only mouth available is mine. At least now I’m aware when he’s using it.”
“You fought too much when I tried to talk to you! It’s why you wouldn’t remember!”
“Uh…I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t think it would cause an argument.” Maddox’s shoulders drew inwards, looking awkward as he ate.
“It’s fine. Justice loves to argue. It's one of his more annoying qualities.” Justice flared and used his hand to pinch his bicep.
“Hey!”
“Tell them!”
“Ugh. Irving was a bastard who left blood magic books out to tempt desperate apprentices to stray. Signed off on all the Tranquil. Agreed to put me in solitary for a year even. He wasn’t any better than the Templars.” Anders recited it like he was summarising a book he’d read a thousand times. “It wasn’t as bad as Kirkwall, before the whole blood mage invasion during the Blight, at least. But we still had corruption. All Southern Circles do.”
“They tried to put you in solitary for a year? ” Samson’s brows raised in shock. “Void. I’m glad you escaped. We had a mage in solitary for a month once; guy jumped out of his window a week after release.”
“I escaped after solitary.” Anders corrected, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t like remembering it. It was all one big blur of darkness, the only break from his own thoughts before Mr Wiggums and an older Templar who used to come in and touch his face. He never saw the guy's face, all he remembered was how reverently he petted his dirty skin, wiping grease and sweat from his face with a rag. He was pretty sure he let him fuck his mouth once or twice, but he never did trust his memories when it came to his solitary. It could have happened. He also could have been desperate and hallucinated it. He didn’t really want to know.
“Shit.” Samson didn’t say anything else on the matter, staring at his half empty bowl.
“I’m sorry, Anders. That must have been… awful.” Anders looked up at Maddox and his heart clenched at the glossiness of his eyes. He hated when people cried over things he’d rather skip over or forget.
“It was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it, Maddox. Seriously. It’s behind me.”
“Still. A whole year alone? I couldn’t do it.” Maddox shook his head. “I suppose being an abomination isn’t so bad in your books. You’re never alone now.”
Justice pulsed with pride inside him and Anders laughed.
“He agrees. Justice. We’re both happy to share a body. Most of the time.”
“The chamber pot must be weird.” Maddox teased, and Anders grinned.
“Justice inhabited a dead guy before me. He was quite shocked to find out what happened after eating.” Samson barked a short laugh as Maddox snorted.
“Humans are equally disgusting and beautiful.” Justice said almost wistfully.
“Aw. Thanks. I think.” Maddox didn’t look like he knew how to take that.
“You were a decaying corpse . You were far grosser, trust me.” Anders snarked.
“You thought I would be more handsome alive. Then you complained about Kristoff being Orlesian.”
“Hey, don’t rifle through my old memories. I don’t rifle through yours.”
“You do. You thought Aura was pretty.”
“She was.” He sighed in dismay. “In another life, I could have shacked up with two hot Orlesians. Be their pretty mage boytoy. If only they weren’t Orlesian.” He was pretty sure they were from Orlais anyway.
“Degrading. ‘Boytoy’ ?”
“Don’t judge me.” Anders ignored the spirit's internal huffing in favour of his dinner.
“I feel like I’m in the middle of a lovers spat.” Samson muttered and Anders' ears felt far too warm.
“Would you date an Orlesian?”
“Fuck no.”
“There you go. Idiot Marchers and Ferelden Dogs can agree on one thing.”
“Ah, you’re assuming I’m a Marcher?” Samson mused.
“You are.” Maddox laughed. “You were born in Kirkwall like I was. I’ve never been to Ferelden. I’m actually excited to see what it’s like now that I can enjoy such things again. I always wanted to travel.”
“Yeah, I know.” Samson smiled up at Maddox, something weary but fond in his expression. “You used to make those little paper birds all the time. Staring out your window and letting them fly.”
“I…used to hope one day I’d be able to leave the Gallows and collect them all. Then I could bring them to her.”
“Serina.”
“Yeah. Serina.” Maddox’s gaze turned pensive at the name. “I’m surprised you remembered her name.”
“Couldn’t ever forget.” Samson admitted and Anders watched the exchange carefully.
“May I ask who Serina is?” He wasn’t going to pry, but he was curious.
“Loverboys girl. Back in Kirkwall. I used to exchange letters between them before I was kicked out.”
“I never got to say goodbye before they…” Maddox brushed his fingers over the raised scar and flinched ever so slightly. “I hope she was okay.”
“She got married.” Samson sighed. “Never thought to tell you, when you were…well. You wouldn’t have cared to know then. It’s fair that you know now.”
“She did?” Maddox grimaced before nodding solemnly. “That’s…yeah. I can’t hold it against her. No letters for years? Of course she moved on. I’m glad she’s happy.” His words wobbled, but he managed to keep a hold of himself surprisingly well.
“She is. Married a nice fella in Lowtown. A builder. Moved out of Kirkwall before the rebellion. Not sure where to, but she got out of dodge.”
Maddox played with the remains of his stew, and Anders stood with his own empty bowl, placing a gentle hand on his knee.
“You lost a lot of time because of that brand. You missed out on a lot of things you deserved to experience because of the Gallows. You didn’t deserve that, but try to think about the positives. You have a second chance now. Take the time to grieve what you lost, but don’t let it be all you know. There's still a lot to experience in the world, and I’ll be here to help you see it.”
Maddox looked from Anders hand to his soft smile, something naturally soothing about the gentle quirk of his lips and honeyed eyes, darkened by tiny swirls of red. He really did look like a healer, even with the scruff on his face and his sleep-rumpled clothes. Maddox offered a smile in return.
“Thanks. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“I could say the same.” Anders patted his back with a quiet chuckle. “Finish your stew. You should get some rest. It’s been a taxing evening.”
“Yeah.” Maddox agreed before he yawned, blinking a few times before rubbing his jaw. “I hope you don’t get bored being glued to me all the time. I know my work isn’t everyone’s favourite pastime.”
“Please. You’ll be sick of me within a week. I don’t know when to stop talking.” He grinned to ease the younger’s worries, enticing a soft laugh.
Samson stood and took Anders empty bowl in hand.
“I’ll bring the bed around. Then you can both rest.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Anders saluted half-heartedly and Samson clicked his tongue, muttering something about insubordination despite looking far from annoyed.
Maddox leaned further into Anders side as Samson left the tent, and the mage quirked a brow, gently rubbing his back like he’d do for Hawke after a rough day on the Wounded Coast.
“You alright?”
“Tired.” Maddox sighed, eyes falling shut as his head rested upon his shoulder. “I miss her. It seems silly, given it’s been a decade. But I do. I never got the chance to really…think about it.”
“Do you still love her?” Anders asked softly, tucking his hair back behind his ear like it would make it easier to hear Maddox’s plight.
“Yes? I don’t know. I was still there even when I was Tranquil. My feelings have changed even if I wasn’t aware of them changing. I thought of Samson as my friend despite not being able to actually feel that care you’d have for one, you know?” He shook his head and rubbed his temple. “This is a mess. Everything was so black and white. Now everything is bursting with colour again and it’s overwhelming. I loved Serina. I’m sad we didn’t runaway and get married. But it’s been so long that I can’t say I love her when I hardly remember our childhood or what we talked about in our letters. We wouldn’t be the same people we were at twenty, not anymore. I just…wish that life with her had been an option.”
“Serina wasn’t a mage.”
“No. She wasn’t. She was normal. But she wrote to me after I was taken to the Gallows. We exchanged letters for years before Meredith stepped into power and shut down communications. So I got Sam to run our letters for us. He used to do it all the time, little favours for the mages. I fixed his gauntlet during my time in the Gallows workshop, just because I noticed it and it was bugging me. I knew I could fix it. So I did, and he offered me a favour. All I wanted was to talk to my girl again.”
Maddox’s eyes welled.
“All of this is my fault. I was so stupid and in love. It’s because of me he was kicked out of the Order. That he became a beggar. He was so- so bitter compared to before even when he tried to hide it from me. He didn’t have to; not like I could complain if he wanted to lash out. But he was kind to me, always. He thinks it’s his fault for getting caught with my letters. He blamed himself when they put through the request, telling me to my face I’d be getting the Rite before it was even approved. He begged Meredith to reconsider even as they stripped him of his armour and dragged him out of the Gallows.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and scrubbed at his leaking eyes.
“It wasn’t either of your faults. It was that bitch Meredith’s.” Anders scowled. “It was Elthina’s fault too. They can’t brand without permission from the Grand Cleric. You were both failed by the Chantry. They should have dug into Meredith’s bullshit sooner.”
“I know. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept.” Maddox sniffed. “Maker, I’m gonna cry forever, aren’t I?”
“Everyone does. It’s a good thing.” Anders smiled wryly and tapped his bowl. “C’mon. Before it gets cold.”
“Healers . Can’t catch a break.” Maddox mumbled, pouting as he scooped up another spoonful of stew to eat. Anders chuckled and rubbed his back.
“I’m sorry about Serina. I know what it’s like, losing your first love to circumstance. Not being able to go back in time and fix things you regret. Life moves forward, and it’s hard to move with it, but I’m certain she would want you to be happy. Regardless of if it’s with her or not. Love is equally selfish and selfless, and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
Anders thought back to Hawke. How he used to pine after him. He never chose him. They were only friends, and Hawke had so much on his shoulders, but Anders had wanted him to be happy, even when jealousy was a bitter viper biting at his heart. He hoped wherever he was, he was happy.
“I want to keep helping Sam. For as long as I can.” Maddox lifted the bowl to his lips and drank the last of it down. He wiped his mouth with his apron and gave a small huff. “He’s taken care of me for four years now. Even when he didn’t need me, he made sure I was…well, I couldn’t be happy, but content. I owe him everything.”
“Funny you say that. He feels like he owes you.” Anders chuckled. “You’re friends, right? You don’t owe each other anything. Just keep supporting each other like you always have been.” He squeezed Maddox’s knee and took the empty bowl. He went to place it on the bench but Maddox made a small sound of distress. He paused.
“Just,” He moved off the barrel and placed the bowl down on top of it. “I don’t want any mess on my bench that’s of the food variety. All the contamination…it’s not meant for leather and metal.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Anders smiled, amused by Maddox’s peculiarity. He’d respect it nonetheless. “Let’s get you to bed, kid.”
“Please don’t call me a kid. I’m almost thirty two.”
“I’m ten years your senior, Maddox. Plus, you have quite the baby face.”
“I'm still an adult.”
“I used to call my friend ‘boy’ when he pissed me off, and he was only five years younger than me.” Anders grinned. “I’ll refrain if it really bothers you.”
“It does.” Maddox grumbled.
“How about ‘buddy’?”
“Somehow that’s worse.”
“Maddy?”
“Now I sound like a girl.”
“Mads?”
“That’s…better. Sort of.” Maddox shrugged. “Serina and I never bothered with nicknames. She…used to call me Cabbage Head when we were kids though. Wrote it in all the letters after my name.”
“Cabbage head?”
“My parents told me I was born from the cabbage patch in our garden. They didn’t want to explain the reality of baby making.” Anders snorted, tipping his head back in laughter. “They would says thats why my head is so round. Which it’s not.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant! My mother told me she pulled me out of the ground like a carrot. Said I was so noisy she knew I was ready to be unearthed. Then I saw a mama pig give birth at the ripe age of ten and was scarred forever.”
“You lived on a farm in Ferelden then?” Maddox mused.
“No way. I was born and raised in the Anderfels until I was twelve.”
“Twelve?” Samson ducked into the tent as he queried, the bed under one arm and blankets and a pillow under the other. He carried it with no struggle. “That’s a little late for a mage. Your parents didn’t want you to go, huh?”
“Well…how I came to Kinloch Hold is a story for another time. I’m wiped.” He wondered if he’d ever feel well rested again. Maybe he simply had to get used to the lyrium in his body first. Or maybe sleeping for four years messed up his stamina in general.
“Gimme a minute.” Samson lugged past them towards Maddox’s corner of the tent. There was a bed much like Samson’s own, piled with blankets and pillows. Which struck him as odd given Tranquils didn’t complain over discomfort. Perhaps that was the point. Samson likely made it so it was impossible for Maddox to be uncomfortable, regardless of whether or not he’d complain.
The General fussed about with the blankets, more than he’d probably need with how warm he was now, a little furrow in his brow like this was as important as his maps and required the same amount of attention. Anders almost wanted to laugh, or poke his thumb into the furrow and tell him to stop looking so grim.
“You’re scowling.” Maddox spoke up and Samson’s expression smoothed out in surprise at the comment, looking at the man from over his shoulder. “You’re making my face hurt watching you.”
“I forgot about your smart mouth.” Samson huffed, looking a little pleased despite his words. He fixed the pillow with a small pat and stood. “Get some rest. If you need me before sunrise, I’ll be in my tent. We’ll be packing up and heading out after breakfast tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan. Try to get some rest too. Even if it’s at your desk.” Anders tutted, making his disapproval known.
“Yeah, yeah. Should have left you on the road for bandits.” Samson rolled his eyes and went to the barrel to pick up the empty bowl before Maddox stopped him with a hug. Samson paused and patted his back, scrubbing a hand over his prickly scalp.
“Goodnight, Sam.”
“Rest up, Maddox.” He waited for the younger to let go before he gave Anders a polite nod. “Sleep well, Anders. Justice, too.”
Anders was struck by surprise at the acknowledgment of Justice for such a mundane thing. He wasn’t sure anyone had acknowledged the spirit so casually before, outside teasing jokes.
“We’ll certainly try.” He smiled and followed Maddox to the two beds. The younger had to partially crawl over Anders to get to his own since it was tucked into the corner of the tent, but Anders didn’t mind. He pulled the blankets over his legs when the candle light went out, the tent going dark. He could faintly make out Samson’s figure as he slipped out of the tent, his footsteps fading as Anders laid down and curled up on his side.
“…Anders?” It was loud in the quiet, his shuffling.
“Mm?”
“Could you…do that thing again. The glowing?” Anders furrowed his brows before it clicked. He chuckled.
“Not fond of the dark?” Slowly, his hands and cheeks lit up, cracks of bright red chasing away the shadows from Maddox’s gentle features.
“Not really. Even as a Tranquil I don’t think I did either, but there was never a good enough reason to risk my candle catching something alight in my sleep.” He admitted, hazel eyes focused on the mage's hands. Hesitantly, he reached out with his own and touched the cracks. He gave a soft gasp, eyes widening.
“It’s— it’s hot .” He threaded their fingers despite his words.
“Are you cold?” Anders hummed, watching him. He couldn’t help but liken his behaviour to a bumbling fawn with far too much curiosity. Yet he couldn’t blame him for being so enchanted with everything.
“A little. It’s a common side effect of the red lyrium. The heat. All the Templars run hot now. But this is…different. It’s like- it’s like a hot spring. Like warm water.”
“People used to say my magic was cold in a good way. Soothing. Justice is where I drew my power from as a Spirit Healer. He used to feel like cool water on a hot day when I stitched my own wounds.”
“Yeah. It’s like that, I guess. Except the opposite. Like…a hot bath when your whole body aches.” Maddox shuddered softly. “Everything feels so bright like this.”
“The further the distance, the less you feel. I imagine the opposite applies too.” He squeezed his hand and with his other, he sent up a few golden wisps above them, tinged with rose. Maddox’s eyes followed them with rapture.
“Wisps… I haven’t seen them in so long.”
“I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to do magic again, but if you want to try, I’ll help you.” Anders offered, but Maddox only shook his head.
“I was a terrible mage anyway. I prefer my tools.” He watched the wisps dance, one floating down to brush his cheek before it twirled away. “Maybe…this though. I’d like to know this spell again. If I can.”
“Of course.” Anders smiled gently. “Now get some rest.”
“I will…soon.” Maddox watched the wisps bump and float, absentmindedly stroking the red cracks along the mages middle finger. Anders wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, but eventually, Maddox drifted, eyes drooping and breath growing slow and deep.
Only then did he allow himself to close his eyes, the wisps dying out and cracks closing up as he slipped into the Fade.