The combination of the words 'what' and 'if', especially when used in that order, can be highly dangerous.
It always brings up a whole host of emotions that Justice insists I cast aside.
Regret for the choices I've made.
Longing for the choices I didn't.
But he is a spirit, and I am a mere mortal, burdened with emotions outside of my — and his — control.
So in my last moments, I ignore his protests and indulge myself with a series of 'what ifs'.
What If.
What if?
What if I refused to let them take Ser Pounce from me?
What if the moment Hawke and Varric barged into the clinic four years ago requesting assistance in The Deep Roads, I said no?
What if I quelled the burning fire at the depth of my soul and never kissed Hawke? Never felt his stubble scrape against my neck, his rough hands grip my hair, his hips push against mine?
What if I never told him that I love him?
There is one 'what if' that leaves a lingering pain that not even my healing can dissipate. One regret that has left me sleepless, night after night, while I awaited this day with a mix of anticipation and dread.
What if I only told Hawke what the sela petrae and Dragonstone were for? Why did I choose to lie and deceive?
He finds me selfish for defying his trust and killing innocents for personal gain.
If only he knew that I did it for him, for Karl, for all the mages who must suffer because of who they are.
I did it so that he would no longer have to walk in the shadows to hide from Templars. So that the lingering fear of his own brother and compatriot would no longer be necessary.
I only wanted him to be free. My sacrifice seemed a small price to pay for that reward.
My eyes close. I wait to feel his blade enter my body.
Justice is pleased. We have achieved our goal. When I requested for Hawke's assistance with the materials to make the potion to separate Justice and I, I was not entirely lying; I knew that my life would be forfeit, Justice would move on, and one would become two.
My only hope is that Justice is right, and the spirits of the dead pass into the Fade. If that is true, I will find Hawke beyond the Veil, and I will redeem myself to him.
I love Hawke.
He is the justice I have been waiting for my entire life.
And because of him, I will embrace the ether.
The blade enters my neck, like a knife into butter. I deny Justice's request to take over; I wish to feel the pain, to accept the consequences for the decision which was mine. The pain is briefly overwhelming, my thoughts and memories becoming a blur.
I register Justice's goodbye.
My last memory is Hawke, curled on the bed beside me, a rare smile painted on his worn features, his pink lips separating as the words "I love you, Anders," escape them.
I love you too, Hawke.