Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bioware...yaddah yaddah, you know where this is going...
The musty air of Lowtown filled his nostrils. A usually unpleasant scent, Anders breathed it in deep for once, delighting in anything that wasn't the Deep Roads. They had been through hell and back, fighting creatures of unspeakable evil…and now they were home.
Home…he had yet to think of Kirkwall in that light, but suddenly felt how right the term fit. He hadn't dared call many places home, had never been allowed the privilege, but he knew a great deal of the title was attached to the woman in front of him. She was what made him see this city of chains as home, without her he doubted he'd feel as attached. This troubled him a great deal, and a sensation of unease slithered through his mind as Justice voiced his displeasure. He shrugged Justice off, for the moment not caring what the spirit thought.
Hawke turned towards him and Varric, Isabela had left long ago. Her ebony hair was almost grey with dust and her pale skin was several shades darker, her facial tattoos appearing faded under the grime of the Deep Roads. Her armor was dented, the engraving across the steel stained with darkspawn blood. Though she looked a fright, Anders felt he'd never seen a woman so beautiful.
"I'm going to go see Mother and Bethany for a moment, if you two will wait for me, would you like to have victory drinks at the Hanged Man?" Her eyes sought out his, the glint of hope in them impossible to deny.
He sighed heavily, his eyes teasing, "Ugh, anything to put off returning to the clinic…" Her responding smile was dazzling and he despised himself for loving it.
"Would victory drinks include a game of Wicked Grace?" Varric asked.
"But of course!" Hawke answered as if Varric were an idiot.
"Then hurry your arse up!" Varric chuckled, patting her forearm affectionately as he moved to sit on a bench.
Hawke smiled at her friends, "It shouldn't take long, maybe Bethany will come with us!" She turned and all but sprinted up the stairs to Gamlen's Hovel, Anders momentarily thanking the Maker that she wouldn't have to live in such conditions for much longer.
"Ah, we're gonna be rich Blondie…" Varric all but cooed.
"We? What is this we you speak of? I was simply a bodyguard of sorts." He hadn't thought he'd get a share in the cut.
"Ridiculous! You expected us to have you tag along for nothing?" The dwarf shook his head, "You are far more charitable than you should be…"
"Thank you Varric…" Anders really wasn't sure what else to say. He hadn't found friends like the dwarf since leaving the Grey Wardens…and had honestly thought he never would.
"So Blondie, about your tells…"
"Maker's breath Varric!"
"I'm just saying you're bluffing is horrid and you need to fix it, hell, the Mabari plays a better game."
Anders moved to say some sarcastic come back when Varric's eyes widened as he looked past the mage, "Oh Maker's mercy…" the dwarf murmured, and his face filled with sorrow.
"What?" He turned to find Bethany descending the stairs from Gamlen's house…surrounded by templars.
"Oh shit…" He breathed hoarsely.
The younger Hawke sister cast them both a sad smile as she smoothed the skirts of her circle robes, right before jumping in surprise as the front door to Gamlen's house burst open.
"NO!" Hawke's war cry was deafening, the sounds of a struggle from within the house pierced the still air of the streets outside.
Anders and Varric watched as two templars flew out of the door, falling over the side of the stairs to land in a heap on the cobblestones below.
Maeve Hawke was seen briefly, lunging out the door before two steel gauntlets pulled her back.
"You mustn't resist! If you fight this you'll face the hangman's noose!" Knight-Captain Cullen's booming voice sounded from the hovel.
"YOU CANNOT HAVE HER!" Hawke shrieked in response, Cullen's body following the first two templars as she kicked him in the chest.
Anders wanted to intervene, could feel rage begin to build and ice fill his veins as Justice moved to the front of his mind, but something stopped him…froze him in place to where all he could do was watch in horror.
Hawke flew out of the door, leaping down the stairs and placing herself between Bethany and the templars. She drew her sword, Fadeshear glinting in the harsh sunlight. She lifted her shield up behind it.
"Sister…"
"No! They will not have you!" She turned back to face Cullen and the templars, "You have no idea what I faced down there, Bethany, a few templars can be easily dealt with." Her voice was an unsteady growl, her eyes bright with fury as angry tears formed in her eyes. They would not get her sister…she'd die first.
Anders saw Cullen stand, straightening his armor as he stepped forward with his arms raised in defense, "Your sister's compliance means your family won't face the consequences for harboring an apostate…you don't want to do this Hawke."
"To the void with you! You templars stain everything you touch…your evil far outstretches any blood mage." Hawke hissed, her sword slicing air as she swiped it between them, assuring Cullen kept his distance, "my sister has done nothing to warrant arrest, she is harmless!" The warrior cried.
"If only that were true Serah…" Cullen responded, his tone mournful.
Hawke felt a warm hand land softly on her shoulder, "Sister…" Bethany murmured. Hawke glared at the templars as she lowered her weapons and half turned towards her little sister. Bethany gestured for Cullen to wait before pulling Hawke over to Anders and Varric.
Bethany smiled as she faced her sister, "I want to go."
Hawke's eyes widened, "What?"
Bethany's eyes filled with tears as her lips trembled, as if she was holding back great emotion, "I'm tired of running Maeve. I'm tired of being a burden to you and mother, without me you two can get the estate back…you can live normal, happy lives."
"Bethany, n-no…" Hawke sobbed.
The tears finally spilled down Bethany's face, "I'll be fine, be sure to take care of mother." Her hands came up to cradle her elder sister's face as they pressed their foreheads together.
Anders had never seen Hawke cry…never, but the woman sobbed openly as she clutched her sister to her, "You write me every day." He heard Hawke hiss in Bethany's ear, "Every damn day and if the letters stop I swear to you I will go through that entire tower…floor by floor, and kill every templar I see!"
Bethany's grip tightened around her sister, soaking as much strength and courage from Hawke as she could, "I love you Maeve…"
Hawke buried her face in her sister's neck, drinking in the scent of elfroot and lyrium mixed with the faintest hint of fresh baked bread, "And I you sister"
"Come visit me okay?" Bethany's voice was a choked sob as she stepped back.
"As soon as I can, I promise."
"Take care Sunshine." Varric murmured as he grasped the mage's hand. Bethany squeezed his fingers affectionately before smiling at Anders.
"Take care of Maeve for me?" She whispered.
Anders stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Bethany before pressing a chaste kiss to the girl's forehead, "I'll do my best."
The girl nodded, sending one last smile Hawke's way before moving towards Cullen. The templars left swiftly and soon no trace of the earlier struggle was left save for the echoes of Hawke's cries ringing against the stone walls.
Anders and Varric turned to Hawke, who was now shaking. Tears ran down her face, leaving tracks in the grime caked on her skin.
Hawke dropped to her knees, pressing her gauntleted hands to her face as she fell to her side, curling into the fetal position on the ground.
"Hawke…" Varric murmured, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. It was the last thing she heard before the world went black.
. . .
The air was damp…her surroundings dark and dreary as Hawke opened her eyes. Her face felt puffy and swollen, her eyes gritty. Her head felt like it had been beat to a pulp by a mallet. Hawke tried to sit up, releasing a low groan as she stretched.
"I was wondering when you were going to wake up…"
She jumped at the sound of Anders's voice, and suddenly the atmosphere became clear. She was in Darktown, in his clinic.
"W-what happened?" She asked groggily, smiling slightly in thanks as he handed her a skin of water.
"You had a small mental breakdown, your mother wasn't much better off and I figured Gamlen was doing an admirable job of taking care of her, so I thought I'd focus on you." His honey colored eyes seemed sad as he regarded her.
"Thank you, mother already blames me for Carver…I have a feeling she'll find some way to make Bethany my fault too."
"That's rubbish."
"Doesn't make it less true." Hawke stared into the cooking fire in front of her, Anders feeling his chest tighten at the lack of emotion in her sapphire eyes.
"Hawke…"
"They were twins you know…identical, if it weren't for their difference in gender I doubt we'd have been able to tell Carver and Bethany apart." A sad smile had slowly begun to stretch her lips. Anders realized it was not the time for words and simply sat on the cot next to hers, settling in to listen.
"Father cried the day Bethany showed signs of magic, she was three…I remember watching him cradle her in his arms, crying into her hair while she kept asking him what was wrong." Her eyes slid closed, "I think a part of him died inside the day I entered Templar training."
"Why did you do it?"
"I didn't join the templars Anders…Ser Bryant, a very nice man in the chantry, figured out what my father and Bethany were but instead of turning us in he agreed to keep his mouth shut and look the other way if I promised to learn the techniques to disable them should they become abominations…I was thirteen."
"Do you have any idea what that's like Anders? To watch those you love dearly, waiting for the moment when you might have to kill them?" Her eyes brightened and she turned a harsh glare on him, "You claim mages have it the hardest but I have seen many a templar recruit scarred forever, their spirits broken by what they are forced to do…no matter what you think both sides have it hard." He moved to protest that point but she interrupted him, "I've seen many a templar suicide over the guilt of hunting mages…we aren't all horrid, many have good hearts and are just trying to do the right thing."
That silenced him, Hawke continued her stories, "Bethany and I were a lot closer to each other than Carver…I'm not sure why, but he seemed to always have a chip on his shoulders. Jealous of the attention us girls got I guess…" Anders remembered a moment where Bethany mentioned Carver used to nail her braid to the bed while she slept.
"You want to know something weird?" She asked, her smile becoming genuine, her eyes showing she was looking back to happier times.
"What?" He whispered, not wanting to break whatever spell she was under.
"Bethany and I…we would often fall asleep together, in the same bed. Mother said she would find us in the morning so intertwined she wasn't sure where I began or Bethany ended…and when we slept that way, Bethany and I would have the same dreams."
"I miss Lothering…we didn't have to hide there." She murmured, pulling her legs up and hugging her knees to her chest, "Bethany and I used to race through the wheat fields, ditching Carver whenever we could, he'd get so mad…" She chuckled, "We'd stay out in the woods for hours, braiding flowers in our hair and whispering secrets we didn't want mother or father to know…other children avoided us for what our family was so Bethany and I were our own best friends."
Anders wasn't sure why she was telling him this…why she was suddenly speaking of all her memories. He had ached for information like this about her, but she refused to tell anyone. He didn't know whether he was blessed or damned to be the one she finally confided in.
"I don't know what to do now…what do you do when the one thing that kept you going is suddenly gone?" He knew she spoke of Karl…
Karl had been special, his first love. It had destroyed him to kill the man, but Anders knew the real Karl had been lost as soon as the brand had scorched his forehead. He thought on the few days after Karl's failed rescue…on how he had dealt with the pain. Realization dawned on him as he remembered Hawke staying with him the first two days…how she'd fumbled about the clinic trying to help with the patients, but only managing to get in the way, Maker bless her heart. She had kept his head above water, had prevented his fall into despair.
"I don't know what you do Hawke…" He murmured as he stood, noting her surprised expression as he moved to sit next to her, "But you kept me sane after Karl, " He wrapped an arm around her and sighed in relief as she leaned into him, "and I'll do the same for you."
Hawke's shoulders began to shake, "T-thank you Anders…" She whispered shakily, her words choking off into a sob.
And he held her, made sure she knew she wasn't alone…and once she had calmed down her childhood stories continued.
She talked for what felt like hours, Anders still not completely sure why. He contented himself with just listening and being there for her. He figured that was really all she needed and doubted she would get that with anyone else.
As the sun began to set behind the mountains she finally finished her tales. They had rivaled Varric's in the entertainment value. There had even been a few moments where both apostate and templar had laughed so hard they cried.
"I guess I should get home to mother…though I really do dread that confrontation." Her mother loved her, she knew this…but the only way Leandra had ever been able to deal with tragedy was to lay blame on someone's shoulders…even herself sometimes. Hawke didn't know if she could stand another accusation laid at her feet though.
Anders instantly sobered, stunned at how badly he didn't want her to leave.
"You know…" He cleared his throat several times, "I know it's not the best down here, or the cleanest…b-but…you could stay here…if you, you know, wanted." His voice had trailed off to barely above a whisper as he began to fidget with the spare bandages wrapped around his wrist for easy access.
Maeve giggled; a strange show of girly-ness from the warrior, "Oh Anders, you know how irresistible I find your mumbling, but you must speak up if I am to understand what you're saying."
He decided to ignore the feeling of a blush warming his face as he spoke again, "You could stay here if you'd like." Her eyes widened, "I mean I know this isn't the palace you're used to staying in with Gamlen, but I try to keep things clean and organized."
"Indeed you do…" She mused as she eyed a desk spilling over with parchments and rough drafts of his manifesto.
"Hey I haven't been here in weeks, cut me some slack!"
She smiled; a true smile that reached her eyes, "Okay, as long as you're sure I won't be a bother to you and get in the way."
"No, you're fine…the clinic's been pretty dead today." He moved to place fresh blankets on his cot for her.
He had planned on staying out on one of the cots in the main room of the clinic, but as he placed another blanket over Maeve she grabbed his wrist, "Anders…could…would you mind?"
He knew what she was asking, and Justice wasn't having it. He was rooted to the spot, at war with himself. Finally he gave in, knowing full well he was damned the moment she curled into his side. There would be no sleep tonight; he'd be far too distracted.
"Thank you again Anders…no matter what you think you really are a good friend." She mumbled sleepily as she snuggled into his arms before losing consciousness.
Maker she smelled good…not flowery or anything girly like most Kirkwall women. It was hard to place her scent, and Anders was sure she wore no perfume. It was like the smell of fresh cut hay mixed with the sharp spice of a cooking fire…he couldn't get enough of it, and hoped she wouldn't find him a creep for sniffing her hair.
Sleep finally did come for him, and for the first time in two years he had a night free of darkspawn nightmares…
. . .
He knew he was dreaming. As a mage he was always fully conscious whenever he entered the fade. He'd never had this kind of dream before though…
He was surrounded by golden stalks of wheat, swaying gently in the breeze, the scents of wildflowers and mud filled his nostrils and he knew he was in Ferelden again.
"Anders!" A high pitched voice, like the coo of a dove sounded.
He looked down at himself, realizing he was a boy again…though why wasn't he in the Circle?
The wheat parted and a scraggly looking girl fell to the ground, quickly standing and dusting the dirt from her skirt, though all she succeeded in doing was make the dirt and grass stains worse. She was barefoot, her feet darkened by the mud of the field.
As her head lifted he knew he was staring at Hawke…though she was a lot younger, he'd place her at about ten years old.
Her raven hair was cut in uneven lengths that whipped about her chin, framing a pale heart shaped face that hosted the widest and bluest pair of eyes he'd ever seen. Her face was also streaked with dirt, only in the most adorable way. She was a wild child, just as he'd suspected. Her mouth curved into a devilish grin as she shoved him, "Tag, you're it!" She squealed before disappearing into the golden wheat.
He didn't think on the matter, didn't bother to wonder why they were where they were, he didn't want to, "Oh no you don't!" He cried back, racing after her.
And so they played, racing each other through fields of wheat and stalks of corn…drinking from a well outside of a town Anders was pretty sure was Lothering.
She chased him into the woods, both flopping to the ground in exhaustion once they reached a clearing. For a long time they laid there, no sounds but the wind through the trees and their heavy breathing.
"Maker I don't want today to end…" Hawke murmured to the sky. He liked how breathy her voice was, how much lighter it sounded with her as a girl. He loved her voice as a woman too, but this younger Hawke was just a girl…not a templar, not burdened with responsibility yet…just a little girl.
"Where are Bethany and Carver?" He found himself asking.
"Carver went into town with Father, Bethany is helping Mother who is baking bread…she kicked me out of the house cause I wouldn't stop eating the dough."
Anders laughed, a real laugh…he hadn't felt this free in ages.
Before he knew what was happening little Hawke was fast asleep, and he felt extremely tired himself…
"Oh I don't want to wake up…" He groaned. His last image was of little Hawke's sleeping face, free of pain and suffering…she was beautiful.
. . .
"Wakey wakey mage!" Maeve's cheerful voice sounded. He opened his eyes, spotting her blurry figure by the cooking fire. She was stirring something. Maker's breath if she was trying to brew potions…
"I made porridge…you didn't have much else food wise…I did what I could." He breathed a tremendous sigh of relief as he sat up.
"Ugh, how long have you let me sleep? Are there any patients?" He hurriedly stood, wobbling slightly.
"Hey, sit down…the clinic is fine. The worst patient here is a little boy who scraped his knee and I was able to deal with it, Maker knows how often I mended scrapes for Carver."
She pushed him back into a seat, before shoving a bowl of food at him. He had to stifle a moan as he took a bite, it was glorious.
"Andraste's blood!" She cried as she watched him wolf down the food, "When did you last eat?"
"A grey warden side effect…" He mumbled around a mouthful of food.
"Sure it is…" She hummed as she gathered her things, "Mother sent word with Varric, and she's worried about me and wants me home. I'm afraid this is where I take my leave." He stood at that, wiping his mouth with a napkin before moving closer.
"Will you be alright?" He asked, not wanting to spoil the good mood, but needing to be reassured.
Her expression softened as she stepped closer, laying a hand against the side of his face. It took all control not to lean into her touch.
"Yes, and it's all thanks to you. I have no words to express my gratitude…I honestly don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there for me." She stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek, "Thank you." She whispered, before stepping back.
The room seemed to burst into flame as her lips made contact with his skin, but he didn't dare show the depth of his reaction to her touch. "Anytime Hawke…" He stammered; his voice hoarse.
"I had the best dream you know, I'm going to have to sleep over more often!" Her tone was teasing. Maker no…he'd lose it completely with her so close.
He remembered his own dream and smiled, "What happened?" He asked.
"I was home, back in Lotherng…and I played with a friend." A secretive little smile flitted across her face as her cheeks held a rosy tint.
That stopped him…they'd…had the same dream. How?
"Oh I really must get going, thank you again Anders…see you at the Hanged Man for cards later?" She flashed him her best smile, the one that made it impossible for him to refuse her anything.
"Wouldn't miss it." He responded, watching her leave with far more intensity than was appropriate.
'Maker I'm doomed' he thought as she slipped out the front door.