Anders' Clinic

Anders leaned against his desk and rubbed the sweat and dirt of Darktown out of his hair. His day had been an endless stream of patients: broken bones, disease, lacerations, two women in labour. You name it; the day had thrown it at him. His mana drained, he shoved his rolled–up sleeve back above his elbow and sighed. Time to snuff the lamp and lock the door.

Yes, said a too–familiar voice in the back of his mind. We have much to prepare before our final victory for Justice.

"I'm exhausted," he told the spirit. "I need a night off."

With Hawke gone to the Deep Roads I had hoped we could focus on what needed to get done. Instead you spend your days ministering to those who give you nothing in return. You finally have a few days of peace. You can ill afford to waste them so.

"Yes. Clearly, helping people is a waste of time."

It is when you are not helping the people who most deserve your help. Those who will be grateful when you save them from their oppressors.

The door slid open.

"Anders?"

Anders glared at the door as it swung inward. "Aveline. What brings you all the way to my beautiful little corner of Thedas? Come to make sure no abominations are running rampant through Darktown?"

Aveline shook her head. "You know, some days I think that might be just what this place needs—a good clear out."

"A joke, even. My, my. What have I done to deserve all this?"

"You? Nothing. Hawke asked me to check in on you."

"Hawke? Is Hawke back?"

Aveline tossed a small satchel onto the desk beside him. "Haven't seen him. Haven't seen you either, so I brought you some food, Hawke's orders. Eat up. Then go home. Bathe. Sleep."

"Too much to do," Anders said, rifling through the bag and producing a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a boiled fish. "Nice dinner. You've really outdone yourself."

"Why are you still in Kirkwall, Anders?" Aveline asked after a few minutes.

"Like I told Hawke, I have work to do."

"Right. Except I'm not buying it. You never turn him down for the long trips. Hawke's the only thing keeping you out of the Gallows and we all know you know it. So what gives?"

Anders took a deep breath before collapsing down onto the closest cot, head cradled in his hands as he stared at the ceiling. "Not something I care to discuss."

"Meaning, of course, something illegal you don't want the guard to know about."

"For once, Aveline, this has nothing to do with mages or templars or justice or anything of the sort. Let's call it a . . . personal problem."

Four days ago, Anders and Hawke had been out doing a bit of browsing at the shops, replacing broken equipment and selling some odds and ends, when Hawke suggested swinging by the Chanter's Board to see if they could pick up some odd jobs to replace the coin they'd spent that day. Anders was grumbling, as usual, about being anywhere near the Chantry, when a woman's voice called Hawke's name, sending a chill down Anders' spine.

"Serah, Hawke?"

Anders pretended he hadn't heard the call over the noise and bustle of the city as he feigned great interest in one particular posting on the board, but Hawke hadn't missed the call.

"I believe this lovely woman would like a moment of our time."

Anders squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a count of five in the hopes he could still his pounding heart. Delilah Howe. Younger sister of his former lover and fellow Grey Warden Nathaniel Howe. She'd disapproved of Anders' relationship with Nathaniel; not because Anders was a mage, or because she shared her father's views on her brother's attraction to men, but because she never thought Anders was good enough for her brother. She'd been right in her disapproval

He'd never forgotten her words on the day Nathaniel took over as warden–commander and Arl of Amaranthine—grey Howe eyes narrowed at him in the same warning glare that Nathaniel had used on Anders so many times before. "My brother has spent many years afraid to open his heart. Now he has chosen to open it to you. Handle it with care, or you will have another Howe to answer to. And unlike my brother, I won't be so quick to fall for your charms." With that, she'd leaned up, kissed him on the cheek as though she were more than happy to welcome him as a brother and a friend, and disappeared into the crowd.

It could be no coincidence that she now stood in the middle of Hightown asking for Hawke. Anders had done what she'd warned him against—taken her brother's heart, tossed it aside, and likely shattered it into thousands of pieces. Would she listen when he told her that he'd made a mistake and that living with his mistake was a bigger hell than anyone could ever put him through? Would it matter to her that the pain of leaving Nathaniel would have been enough to break Anders had he not known it was the right thing to do? Would she forgive him for abandoning Nathaniel if he explained that he'd done it to protect him?

"Anders," Hawke said. "This is Delilah...Howe, you said your name was?"

Delilah nodded. Anders couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

"Delilah has come here from Amaranthine looking for someone. Your brother, right?"

"Yes. Nathaniel. He's mounted an expedition, claiming to be retracing your route through the Deep Roads. A fool's errand." Anders heard the disdain in her tone, hidden behind sadness and honest fear.

Anders took another deep breath and looked up, meeting grey Howe eyes that were a match to those he'd left behind. He tried to maintain his composure. He used to be good at this, before Justice. His old self had been a master at ignoring emotional confrontation with a wink and a grin. "Nathaniel? Well, put me in a dress and call me a Templar. How is the old boy doing?"

Delilah gave him a sweet smile, though Anders could see anger in her eyes as she glared at him. She never was one to back down. "He's missing, Serah. Haven't you been listening?"

Pointed words, just for him. He's missing. He came to Kirkwall chasing you through the Deep Roads and now he's lost, and it's all your fault.

"I take it you and this Nathaniel have some history?" Hawke asked. His look told Anders they'd be talking about this later.

"Sure. We were in the Wardens together in Amaranthine. I wonder if he ever found a sense of humor."

This time two sets of eyes flashed at him. Fantastic. How in all of Thedas was he going to explain his way out of this one?

"Why would the Wardens want to follow our expedition?" Hawke asked.

"I have no idea," Delilah said, though her continued glare told Anders she did, in fact, have a rather good idea. "My brother rarely involves me in these things, never even speaks about the Wardens. But he's been gone far too long. Something terrible has happened, I know it. Please, I beg you, go back to the Deep Roads and find my brother."

Anders had been the one to meet Delilah's eyes take her hand, and tell her they'd do whatever they could to find her brother. Whether it was his fault that Nathaniel was in this mess or not, Anders couldn't just shrug and walk away. He owed Nathaniel this much, at least, after all he'd done.

Hawke had flashed his most charming smile at Delilah, asked her to excuse them a moment, and pulled Anders aside. Anders braced for the questions: how do you know this woman? What are you thinking promising that we'd go chasing off into the Deep Roads? I thought you hated the wardens and now all of a sudden you're so keen to put us all in danger to rescue one of them.

What he got was one question, spoken in that soft voice Hawke reserved for the most serious of matters. "This Nathaniel Howe, he's important to you?"

If he said anything, Anders knew all the things he'd done and all the feelings he hadn't even known he still had for Nathaniel until he looked Delilah Howe in the eyes when she asked him to save her brother would all come rushing out of him in a tidal wave. All he could do was nod, unable to so much as look Hawke in the eyes.

Hawke didn't press. "Then we'll head to the Deep Roads first thing tomorrow. I'll send word to the others."

"Anders?"

Anders shook himself back to the present. "Sorry, Aveline. You're right. I'm tired. Thanks for the food. I . . . I need to sleep."

"Go home," she said, voice full of as much concern as anyone other than Hawke ever seemed to muster for Anders these days.

"This is my home, Aveline."

She rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet. "Suit yourself, but it's a lot easier for me to keep an eye on you up in Hightown. You stay down here long enough, no one would even notice if you were gone."

Maybe that's for the best, Anders thought.

Deep Roads

Hawke spun around, plunging his dagger into the last of the darkspawn just as an arrow whistled past his head and hit the monster in the face.

"Nice shot, Howe," Hawke said, wiping black blood off his blades. "Always good to have a second archer at my back."

Nathaniel nodded, then bent down to pull an arrow from a dead hurlock. Hawke watched him, all the right muscles moving in all the right ways. He could stare at Nathaniel Howe for days on end. The man was sex personified. Whatever had happened to make Anders leave that behind, it must have been far more serious than 'they took my cat'. Anders loved cats, sure, but Hawke loved his mabari like a brother and he'd sell him to the first bidder for one night with a man like Nathaniel Howe.

Nathaniel straightened and turned to face Hawke, who did his best to avert his eyes from where Nathaniel's backside had been and pretend to look very interested in a hunk of rock to their left.

"Is that all of them?" Hawke asked.

"For the first time since I've been down here, I don't sense a single darkspawn. The route to the surface should be clear again. Allow me to express my thanks for all you have done for me. Because of you, I will see my sister and nephew again. Bethany and I will escort you back to the surface before we return to Ferelden."

He started back the way they had come, but Bethany cut him off. "Forgive me, Commander, but my mana is drained from the fight and I could use a meal and a brief rest before we journey on. My brother informed me that it took him nearly two days to catch up with us here. Since neither you nor I sense any darkspawn activity, I suggest we stop a while and restore ourselves in case of a fight."

"Practical as always," Nathaniel said. "I believe we are safe for now and a rest would do us all some good. Let us set camp."

The smile Nathaniel gave her and the easy familiarity with which the two wardens spoke made Hawke wonder if he should worry about what his baby sister had been up to in Ferelden, but another glance at Nathaniel's bulging muscles and intense grey eyes and he decided that one Hawke may as well do what she could to find herself in his bed. Still. His baby sister.

Hawke, Varric, Fenris, and Merrill joined Bethany and Nathaniel in setting up some makeshift shelters under a narrow overhang that was surrounded by rock on three sides. "Very defensible" Nathaniel had said. A true commander to the core. All Hawke cared about was that the six of them could fit inside the cavern without having to stack on top of one another.

Merrill, and Varric filled Bethany in on what had been going on in Kirkwall while they set camp; Bethany, despite her earlier protests that she hadn't had time to miss them, was eager to hear all the news she'd missed in the years she'd been gone.

"My brother doesn't write to me as often as he should."

"I tried to write," Hawke protested, "but it never felt right."

"Still," Merrill said, "you should have written."

"So," Bethany said, "tell me everything."

"Everything?" Merrill said. "Oh, that's quite a lot, now isn't it?"

Varric, always the eager storyteller, jumped in, elaborate embellishments, fabricated details and all. Hawke shook his head then joined Nathaniel in trying to build what passed for a fire in the damp stone of the Deep Roads. He was having remarkable success, Hawke noted.

"Need help?"

Nathaniel looked up. "I can manage, but you're welcome to join me."

"Tell me about her," Hawke said. "What she's like now. How she gets on with the other wardens. What she's been doing. How she is. Does she seem happy?"

"Bethany?"

"Yes."

"She's a fine warden. A skilled mage, something we were all feeling the lack of until she joined. She is an asset to us all. While the circumstances under which she was forced to join us were not ideal, I am glad to have her. She's a bright girl. Pragmatic. Everyone adores her."

"She's my sister, you know. My baby sister. The only family I have left. I worry about her. I should write her more often, I know, but the words never come out right. What should I say? Sorry I keep driving our family apart peg by peg, by the way mother got captured by a crazy blood mage and now you're all I have left, hugs and kisses, Garrett?"

"I . . . know some of your pain," Nathaniel said. "My sister Delilah is all that is left of my family as well. I love her, and my nephew, more than life itself. That she had to come all this way to make sure I was safe. I . . ."

His words were cut off by a shriek from Bethany. Hawke and Nathaniel drew their weapons and leapt to their feet, turning in near in unison toward the opening in the rock, ready to face the coming foe, but saw nothing but darkness and stone.

"Sorry!" Bethany called, hurrying over to them. "Sorry. Put your weapons away. It's nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing," Hawke said under his breath.

"I heard that. For a rogue, you're rarely as quiet as you think you are. Varric and Merrill were just informing me what my dear, sweet, delightful brother has been up to while I've been slaving away for the Wardens. Is it true?"

"Is what true?

"You. And . . ." she flashed a glance at Nathaniel then dropped her voice "and . . . Anders?"

"What about it?"

"He's living with you? At the estate?"

"It's a big estate." Hawke shrugged. "And he still mostly lives in that Darktown hovel of his unless I go down there and fetch him anyway."

"Oh, Garrett, why? Of all the people in the entire city of Kirkwall, why him?"

"Didn't you used to be sweet on him? Always hanging about the clinic asking how you could help."

"Beside the point," she said. "Gare, I just. You're someone important now. Not just some nobody refugee living in squalor in Lowtown. From what Varric tells me you've earned yourself a title and everything. Champion of Kirkwall. You finally have it good. You're safe now. Untouchable. And yet you bring another mage back into our lives."

"I don't know why this is so important to you," Hawke said. "It's not 'our lives' anymore, Beth. You're not there. My relationship with Anders isn't going to make the templars come crashing down on you. Besides, you're with the wardens now. You've got big, strong Nathaniel Howe to keep you safe."

"Just be careful, Garrett," she said before stalking back to Merrill and Varric.

Nathaniel had gone back to the fire and was laying out their remaining food rations. "She's right, you know."

"You heard?" Hawke asked.

"I didn't mean to."

"Sorry."

Nathaniel's eyes flashed upward. "Why?"

"I really don't know. What do you mean she's right? About Anders? You two knew each other, yes? In the wardens. I know he left. I imagine that's a bit of a sore spot."

"You don't know the half of it. Yes. I knew Anders. And Justice, for what it's worth. Though from what Bethany tells me, I doubt I would recognize either of them anymore."

Hawke shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I only know them now."

"He lives with you?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes."

Nathaniel frowned, but said nothing for several minutes until he frowned again then looked up at Hawke. "I . . . may I ask . . . in what capacity you and Anders live together. Is it merely a situation where you've taken him in to keep him safe or is it something more?"

"Definitely something more," Hawke said. Then when he saw the grimace on Nathaniel's face he said. "I'm sorry. You were . . . close to Anders? Back then."

"A lifetime ago," Nathaniel said. "Yes."

"I know it's not my business, but . . . what happened?"

Nathaniel shook his head and gave a soft laugh. "I wish I knew. For months, he and I were at odds every waking moment. My fault, mostly. I was too hung up on appearances and let my pride over what was supposedly right get the best of me. I was cruel to him. Entirely unfair. But a friend, the most beautiful friend a man could ask for, convinced me I was wrong. And I was. One night, right here in the Deep Roads . . . he was suffering and I couldn't stand it anymore. I won't say that what we had was perfect, but for me it was everything. Not so for Anders, however. He left. I stayed. The rest, I imagine, you know far better than I."

Hawke Estate

Anders climbed the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Hawke, undressed, and ran himself a bath. Maker knew what refuse from the clinic was plastered all over him and he hoped a relaxing soak in a hot tub might set his mind right again. Even Justice couldn't disagree with that.

As he bathed, he tried to keep his mind on the work he still had to do in the weeks ahead, but whenever he opened his mind, his thoughts somehow drifted back to Hawke and Nathaniel. Justice raged in his mind with each slip, and despite Anders doing all he could to shut him out, nothing worked.

I have tolerated your dalliances with Hawke because I believe him useful to our cause, but this is another matter. Together we made the decision to leave Nathaniel behind. He did not need us. Did not want us. We could do no more good in Amaranthine. Why do you persist in these thoughts of the past, when we have so much to do in the future?

"Don't you remember him, Justice?" Anders asked. "He was your friend. You can't tell me you don't want to see him again. Don't wonder how he's been. What he's doing. How . . ."

How your leaving affected him? Justice finished the thought. Nathaniel is strong. He had no need of you. He has lived many successful years without you by his side. No. I do not wonder how he is. He is Commander of the Grey and Arl of Amaranthine. He has his duties. As we have ours.

"You don't miss him even a little? Your conversations or the way he always treated you with respect, even if he disagreed with you?"

More beings in this mortal world should be such as he. He truly understood justice, I believe.

"So you do miss him?"

He is a distraction. This has been proven. Howe was long a crutch for you to lean on; the Wardens a shadow for you to hide behind. Without him, you began to live and to take action to free those who are oppressed. To destroy the oppressors and bring justice to the world.

"I could do that while I'm with Nathaniel, you know. Not that I'm going back. I'm just . . . if anyone would understand, it's Nathaniel, right? It was his suggestion that led you and I to our relationship in the first place. He knows you. Knows me. He's a powerful ally, Justice."

He would be, if he were not such a distraction.

The spirit vanished down inside of Anders, and the mage hauled himself from the bath. He climbed into bed, which now felt large and cold without Hawke lying beside him, but he couldn't sleep. He tossed about, unsettled and uncomfortable in this room that didn't belong to him. Although he'd slept here most of his nights for the past several years, he had never done so alone. This was not his bed. Not his house. Not his home. He no longer had a home. He wasn't sure he ever had.

The night before Hawke had departed for the Deep Roads, they'd lain beside one another in this same bed. Anders had been wide awake that night as well, thinking of a different bed in a different place and a different body pressed against his in the dark. He'd done what he needed to, he told himself again. Nathaniel was Arl and Warden Commander and all Anders did was spend his days healing minor wounds and training mages in combat magic and pretending he didn't spend his nights tangled up with Nathaniel in passion and pleasure—an existence that didn't give him any more purpose in life than he'd had while locked away in Kinloch Hold.

As soon as Anders saw Nathaniel again, he knew he'd be powerless. All the good he was doing here helping the mages and the citizens of Kirkwall would be for nothing. He hadn't realized it until that day, but he still loved that man with every part of him that was capable of loving.

"Hawke," Anders had whispered into the dark.

The rogue stirred in his sleep, and Anders said his name again, louder this time. "Hawke."

"Mmm. Anders? What is it?" Hawke said, rolling over to face the mage.

"Do you . . . that is . . . would you mind if . . .?"

Hawke gave a soft laugh. "Again? I thought you'd be sated after the first two times tonight."

"I, ah, no. I mean yes. I mean . . . very satisfied . . . in that regards, anyway,"

"Then what do you need?" Hawke asked, impatience creeping into his voice. "I was having a rather nice dream."

"Would you, maybe . . ." Anders sucked in a breath. "I don't want to go with you. To the Deep Roads."

Hawke jerked to a sitting position, and even in the weak moonlight Anders could see the puzzled expression on his face. "You're the one who promised some girl from your past that we'd go rescue your old Warden pal and now all of a sudden you don't want to be there?"

He needed a better reason than 'I'm pretty sure if I see Nathaniel again we're either going to end up punching each other or having a tumble on the floor. Possibly one of those things followed by the other. Still not sure on the order.'

"I hate the Deep Roads," he said. That much was true, and Hawke knew it. Anders hadn't wanted to go on their first expedition either, but Bethany had given him those eyes and insisted that they'd need warden expertise. Then Hawke had mentioned splitting the profits and Anders had sighed and resigned himself to his fate.

"I get claustrophobic and . . . and I can never explain to you what it's like to feel the taint crawling through you, in and around your skin, the gutteral voices of the darkspawn calling to you and this feeling in your gut like you're connected to them by some kind of invisible rope that's pulling you toward them. In your mind you don't want to go, but in your blood you do and you have to keep sane through all of that. Never mind that at the same time you're trying not to remember that you're trapped underneath an entire city with these things and there's no fresh air and this is where you're going to die."

"Anders," Hawke pulled the mage close to him, leaning Anders' head against his broad chest and wrapping the mage in his strong arms. "I won't let anything hurt you. I will be by your side through everything."

Tell him you have work to do. The honest truth. We have much to prepare. I, too, would like to speak with Ser Howe once more, but we cannot spend time on trivialities.

"I have things to do, Love," Anders said. "I've been away too often lately and my work is starting to suffer. So many people depend on me, and you have so many others who can come to your aid to find Nathaniel. I know the rescue was my idea, and I'd love to see my old friend once more, but my duty is here. I cannot come with you. Send Nathaniel my regards and tell him I hope we can catch up some day. Perhaps you and I can take a trip to Ferelden soon. I'll buy him an ale in that horrible Amaranthine tavern he loves so much."

"I wish you'd come. It will be a long trip and your warden skills are appreciated. What if someone needs healing? What if Delilah was right and something has happened to Nathaniel and he needs your skills? What if I need you, Anders?"

"You'll be fine. Stop by my clinic before you leave and I'll send all the healing potions I've got. I know Nathaniel; he's one of the best fighters I've ever seen. If he's let the darkspawn keep him down then my aunt's my uncle. Likely he's already back in Ferelden and Delilah came here for nothing. I cannot go, Hawke. I have responsibilities here."

"You have responsibilities with me," Hawke said.

Anders smiled and pulled his lover's mouth to his own, silencing Hawke's protest with a kiss before drawing their bodies together once more that evening. "Hush now, Love. You'll be fine. I'll give you something to remember me by."

Deep Roads

Nathaniel stared out into the blackness of the Deep Roads and remembered nights he'd spent staring out into the Amaranthine dark, sipping strong whiskey from a flask and trying to convince himself that he didn't want anything to do with grabbing the mage at his side and pressing their bodies together until the sun came up. Anders hadn't made it easy on him-always shivering in the cold, northern nights because he refused to wear proper clothing or, Nathaniel had learned later, anything at all under his thin robes.

When he looked back at the person he was during his first years as Warden–Commander, he felt nothing but shame. His best friend had left him with command of the wardens and rule over the arling and he'd rewarded her by staying just sober enough to fight but always drunk enough that he didn't have to think about how empty and hollow his life felt without Anders.

For the first year, whenever Nathaniel woke in the night, he staggered to his special stash in the cellar—the finest Amaranthine whiskey his Warden salary would buy—and pour himself a flask, drinking it in the dark surrounded by stone and casks and rats and memories of Anders. He'd drink one, then another, until his memories blurred. More often than not, the servants would find him there in the morning, propped up in a corner. No one ever spoke of it, but Nathaniel felt their judgment and pity.

Bethany's arrival had been a breath of fresh air in so many ways. Charming Bethany with a face like an angel who made a person want to drop everything to do her bidding. Nathaniel found himself drawn to her as a sister and friend and she was a light in his darkest days, just as Anders had once been. Bethany had cleaned him up, sobered him up, and helped him see that he was letting the wardens and the people of Amaranthine down.

One night, Nathaniel was in his study avoiding the bed that still felt too empty, when he felt it all welling up again. Anders was gone. He'd left Nathaniel alone and there was a hole inside of Nathaniel where Anders should have been. Anders might have been sarcastic and never serious, but he had been Nathaniel's rock and now Nathaniel was lost, floating in a sea of meaningless days until the calling pulled him to the Deep Roads and he went to his death.

He crept out of his office and down to the cellar. Just one drink, he told himself. Just one to take the edge off and help me get by. Just one to help me sleep tonight.

Bethany intercepted him as he rounded the door to the cellar. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I . . ." Nathaniel didn't have an answer.

"Sit with me a while," she said, taking his hand and leading him upstairs to the library of the keep. "Tell me about it. All of it. Drinking won't make your problems go away. Hell, talking won't make them go away either, but you need to get it out in the open. All of it."

"I don't want to talk about Anders."

"Fine. Then I'll talk about Anders."

They sat in the library until sunrise, Bethany telling him everything she knew about the man he loved. She told him that Anders was a good man who was equal parts passionate and compassionate, the first person she'd ever met who wanted to help the mages and wasn't afraid to put himself on the line to do it. She also told him Anders had always seemed sad and lost, and now she knew why.

That day, he'd started making plans. Anders was in Kirkwall. Nathaniel needed to clear his head and focus on his duties and rebuild everything here so that he could go to Anders and bring him home. He thought about everything he would do if he had Anders back. He'd let him set up the clinic he always wanted. He'd let Anders put up his notices in the Amaranthine square and wouldn't silence him when he started talking about the plights of mages. But more than that, Nathaniel wouldn't be ashamed to stand in front of his people and let it be known that he, Nathaniel Howe, Warden–Commander and Arl of Amaranthine, loved this man with everything he had in him.

Hawke appeared behind Nathaniel in the dark. "All quiet on the front, Serah Howe?"

"I still feel nothing. The darkspawn are silent."

"Suspicious?"

"I'm always suspicious. It keeps me alive. We should head back soon. Be on our way before the monsters sense us. Bethany and I will accompany your party to the entrance and then continue on our way to Amaranthine."

"Stay," Hawke said. "Spend a few days. Your sister is waiting for you in Kirkwall and I have more than enough room for you all at my estate. Rest. Bathe. Clean the awful mess off your armour. Join my friends and I at the Hanged Man for a drink and some cards. Surely you can spare one day."

"I must get back. I need to make a report to Weisshaupt and I have paperwork to take care of regarding the loss of my comrades."

"You'll travel better if you're rested and fed," Hawke said. "Besides, there are others who will want to see you both."

"I should not have come to Kirkwall in the first place. When Anders left Ferelden, he made it very clear that he did not want to be followed," Nathaniel said. "I lost sight of that in favor of my own selfish interests. He is happy here and he has the life of freedom I could never provide him. I do not think he would want to come face to face with his past in the most literal sense."

"To hell with whatever Anders wants. He should see you. What he did to you, leaving the way he did, it wasn't fair. I don't care if he thought he was protecting you or whatever other excuses he gave. He was acting out his own selfish interests, as usual. I know he won't admit it, but he'll regret letting you leave Kirkwall without seeing you. And I'll regret not making him do it. Come with me, Nathaniel. Do what needs to be done. You're a good man, and you deserve a chance to say goodbye."

What if I don't say goodbye? What if I take one look at the man I've been missing for six long years and I can't help but pull him to me? It's not fair. None of it is fair.

"I should never have come here," Nathaniel said. "I came because I was not whole without him and I wanted to bring him home. But that is unfair to him and it is unfair to you. You have loved Anders in the ways I couldn't for so much longer than I was able. He is happy here. You are happy together. I do not want to ruin that for either of you."

Hawke started laughing. "Is that what you think, that Anders is happy? You don't know how wrong you are. He wasn't happy when I met him and he's gotten less happy with each passing day. Anders needs someone to save him from himself and I am the most convenient person. Over the last few months he has grown more distant, pulling away from me as he loses control. He's miserable and terrified and all I can do is stand beside him as he slips away. Nothing you can do will make that worse, but perhaps you will be the one that saves Anders from his fate. He is no longer mine, either way, and I'd rather lose him to someone like you than to the spirit inside of him.

"At the very least," Hawke closed his eyes and clapped a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, "you deserve the chance to say goodbye."

Anders' Clinic

Anders leaned against the desk, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jacket draped over the back of his chair. Reaching for his blood–stained apron, he pulled it over his head and tied the strings tight around him then paused, hand on his forehead.

Footsteps outside his door. Not the barefoot shuffling steps of the Darktown residents, but heavier. Booted feet. The clink of armour fastenings jingling as the steps fell.

Anders' eyes went wide. Perhaps it was one of Aveline's patrols coming closer than usual. Then again, perhaps it wasn't.

The footsteps drew up to his door and stopped, then Anders heard the unmistakable noise of metal sliding into his lock. Lock picks? That didn't seem like templars. Anders had always assumed them the sort to just kick the door until it fell in.

No time. He had no time to stand here and wonder what was going on, he had to move. Now.

He grabbed for his coat, shoved the piles of paper on his desk into any pocket he could find, and turned toward the hidden back room. Before he took three steps, the door slid open behind him and he froze.

"Anders?"

The voice pierced him deeper than any templar sword. He sounded older. More tired. Anders closed his eyes and let that one word hang in the silence of the clinic for a few moments.

Hawke's voice followed. Cheerful and light. The hint of a smile behind his words. "Hi honey, we're home. Did you miss us?"

When Anders opened his eyes it wasn't Hawke they sought out, but the man who'd given him everything. Who he hadn't even realized how much he'd loved until he'd fallen in love with another. Anders looked into steel grey eyes and felt every emotion he had wash over him at once.

Love. Desire. Passion. Need.

Justice surged up in the back of his mind and Anders silenced him back down with one sharp thought.

He looked into Nathaniel's eyes, and found the piece of himself that he'd lost. He remembered the beauty in the world. The color. The light.

Anders smiled. A genuine smile. One of the first he could remember giving anyone in a long time. "With all my heart."