The prompt for this was: Dearest anons, I am going through some shit, to put it briefly.
I am in need of a nice, long cry, but I can't do it by myself.
Please, can some beautiful a!anon write me a tearjerker of a fill. Pull out all the stops here, I want my heart to break when I'm reading. I want to feel hopeless and helpless and full of despair.
I'm a big one for the star-crossed lovers, but by no means is that the only kind of story that will make me cry.
I must also admit, I have a huge soft spot for Anders, but he's the center of a lot of tragic!fills, and if a lovely a!anon who considers filling this prompt would like to write a story around someone else, I will not complain in the slightest.
I am pretty much all for anything any anon would like to write, as long as it is full of the sads. All that I ask is that there is no non-con or dub-con material involved, because that stuff is triggering.
Thanks, k!meme. 3

BE WARNED: THERE IS CHARACTER DEATH IN THIS STORY.

"No!"

His voice was shrill and panicked, so foreign to his own ears that he didn't believe it had come from his lips. He wasn't even aware that he lunged forward until the hands of Aveline and Sebastian dug into his robes and yanked him back to the sidelines. He struggled against their hold; his eyes locked on the rivulets of crimson dripping from the Arishok's blade. "No, please!" Anders continued to scream, feeling hot tears trickle down his cheeks.

The Qunari leader roared his triumph, lifting his sword high into the air. Sable Hawke, still impaled, slid sickeningly down the blade until she hung limply against the hilt. The Arishok smirked at his men, stuck the point of his sword against the ground and used his foot to push the woman off. A sick schluck could be heard as the steel was removed from her abdomen and a thick puddle of blood began to ooze out under her.

When he was 15, Anders had tried to escape the Circle of Magi by swimming across Lake Calenhad. It had been early winter and when he plunged into the water the artic waves had shocked him into a stupor. Cold was the only sensation he'd known at that moment. It seeped into his flesh, muscle and bone. It made him believe that the warm kiss of the sun was only a myth.

Standing there, staring at the lifeless form of his lover, Anders thought himself in that lake once more.

He was trembling—shivering? Coldness enveloped him like it had done so many years ago. His blood froze in his veins and with a heart-broken cry, Anders summoned all the magic he and Justice possessed and unleashed a torrent of lightning at the Arishok.

It appeared to be the signal the others needed. Fenris dashed into a hoard of Qunari with a roar and Aveline bashed the nearest enemy with her shield. Isabela disappeared into the shadows and Anders decided that if she were running away again, he'd hunt her down next. But, she reappeared behind the Arishok—still stunned from the burst of electricity—and thrust her daggers into his back. Merrill, Varric and Sebastian bombarded the army with arrows and spells, covering Anders as he ran to their fallen leader and dropped to his knees beside her.

"Sable," he abandoned his staff and turned her onto her back, blanching when he saw the large gash running from her sternum to her stomach. "It's ok, I'm here. Everything is going to be ok." Anders poured all his remaining energy into his most powerful healing spell, praying for the Maker to show him mercy.

Once. Just this once.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, watching her sun-kissed flesh knit together and heal before his eyes. "Please, love, please. For me," Even when her wound was completely closed, Anders refused to stop the incantation. Her blood seeped into his robes, hot and sticky.

His stomach clenched as he became aware that the fighting had stopped. The rest of the group was standing behind him, watching and waiting.

The rest of his mana drained out of him. Anders caught himself on his hands as he tumbled forward, a defeated sob wrenching itself from his throat. He pounded his fists against the floor, splashing and coating himself with Sable's blood.

"No, you can't be dead, please!" He grabbed her limp body, lifting her and holding her tight against his chest as he sobbed. "Damn you! You're alright, you have to be alright! Wake up!"

"Anders…" Aveline took a step forward but stopped dead in her tracks as Anders's head whipped around to glare at her, the blue glow of the fade lighting his eyes.

"Keep away!" He ordered, his voice was dark and distorted, the voice of Justice overlapping his own. He bared his teeth, his malicious gaze shifting to Isabela. "This is your doing! She should have just let him have you!"

Isabela frowned, wrapping her arms around her midsection and focusing on Sable.

"I should kill you!" Anders roared, reaching for his staff. Fenris was behind him in an instant, bashing the pommel of his sword into the back of Anders's head. The mage cried out and fell, still clutching Sable tightly to his chest. He worked to get back to his knees, but his head was spinning and Fenris kicked him to lay flat on his back. He rested the edge of his blade to Anders's neck with a feral scowl.

Anders growled, an inhuman sound, eyes flashing a brilliant blue to match the lyrium flowing through the elf's skin as he lay in the puddle of blood.

"Wait, Fenris!" Sebastian grabbed his arms, stopping Fenris from pulling his sword along the mage's throat.

"Get off of me," Fenris barked. "He'll kill us all if he gets the chance."

"A man's grief is not something he should be punished for!" Sebastian looked down to Anders and Sable with a pained frown. "Our first priority should be seeing Hawke's soul to the Maker."

Fenris stood motionless for a few moments, clenched his jaw, and pulled the sword away. He turned and stalked out of the Viscount's keep, pushing past the shocked citizens that were still too frightened to leave.

Sebastian watched him go before turning to Anders.

The glow had faded from the apostate's eyes. His somber gaze was focused on the woman in his arms, brushing a stray curl from her face. His fingers caressed her cheek. She'd been so alive and beautiful that morning, even as she screamed at him.

As Sebastian began a prayer, Merrill wailed in Isabela's arms and Aveline began directing people out of the keep. Anders felt guilt overwhelm him, gripping his heart with the might of an ogre. He couldn't even remember how their argument started only that it'd been over something small. She could be hot-headed at times, snapping at him over minor offenses and he—tired from lack of sleep and stress—would fight back with vigor. She would usually come to him within a few hours or he'd give her a day to cool off before apologizing for whatever had upset her.

Now, there would be no sweet "I'm sorry," no forgiving kisses or caresses.

She was gone.

"I'm sorry, love," He whispered, kissing her brow. "I'm so sorry."