Title: Misery is Not Allowed
Summary: Hawke does not approve of moping, pouting, anguishing, languishing and/or despair. Angsty Anders learns this the hard and unfortunately violent way. Anders/Hawke
Warning: Spoilers lurk here.
Disclaimer: Bioware owns DA2. Ortherwise there would have been a punch Anders choice on the wheel.
"Is it just me, or did you just finally loose your marbles?" asked Varric. Hawke shot him a look and he put up his hands defensively. "No harm meant."
"I'd say she finally came to her senses," replied Fenris. Hawke redirected her look to him, but the elf merely raised an eyebrow.
"Er, not to be a bother, but shouldn't someone be a bit more concerned about Anders?" asked Merrill softly, as if doing her best to speak up without encoring Hawke's wrath.
All four turned to look down the large snow covered slope, or, more appropriately, the large trail of disturbed snow that marked where Anders had taken his tumble.
"I don't see him," answered Varric. "I think he made it all the way to the tree line."
"Or maybe he's dead," said Fenris.
"Doubtful," replied Hawke, taking off her sword and shield and handing them to Varric. "Here hold these." She continued to strip down to her under shirt and trousers, ignoring the stare Varric was now giving her.
"You're going after him?"
"Yes," she answered, checking to make sure her hair was secured. "Is that a problem?"
The dwarf shook his head. "No, I'm just a bit confused to why. Considering you're the one who pushed him off in the first place."
"It does seem counter productive," agreed Fenris. "Unless you're going to make sure he died in the fall. In which case I'll gladly accompany and assist you."
"She's not going to kill him!" Merrill twittered nervously. "Right?"
Hawke gave a small sigh. "No Merrill. I am not planning on killing him." And with that she sat down and pushed off, making a spectacular display as she skidded down the steep hill. The three figures at the top watched her go, snow flying every way and Varric sighed.
"Yep, she's lost it."
The mountainside flatted out just before Hawke hit the trees, giving her time to slow and come to a complete stop. She stood and jogged the remaining distance to keep warm, not exactly an easy thing when soaked and in freezing weather. It took her only a moment to find where Anders had come to a halt in his uncontrolled decent. And it was only minutes later of weaving in and out of the trees she came upon one very wet and very angry mage. He might have been in the process of heading deeper into the forest, but had stopped and was now glaring openly at the woman behind him.
"You look like death warmed over," she said, leaning on the tree next to her. Anders only narrowed his eyes.
"Oh?" he replied. "And who's fault might that be. Tell me, did you know you were planning on killing me when we headed for the mountains, or was it a sudden impulse?"
"Stop being such a baby – a fall like that wouldn't kill you unless you were very unlucky."
Anders threw up his hands. "And my luck's been so great lately my lover decided to test it. Why thank you. How generous."
"Any misfortunes these past three weeks have been of your own making!" Hawke snapped, eyes flashing as she stood up straight. "Do not blame me!"
"Sorry," Anders said, abruptly deflating, his anger gone and his face returning to the forlorn frown which had become his default expression of late. "I know. I did not mean to claim –"
"Andraste's tits! This is why I pushed you off the ledge!" Hawke said, cutting him off and tossing her arms in the air, all semblance of relaxation gone, irritation and exasperation in its place. The sudden switch caught the mage off guard.
"Wha –" he started, but Hawke did not give him a chance.
"Buck up Anders," continued Hawke. "I did not agree to run away with a mopey, self-flagellating apostate. I ran with a man. Though somehow I misplaced him between defeating Meredith and getting on Isabela's ship."
Anders stared at Hawke in shock, blinking dumbly. "I –"
"If you're going to speak, I expect it not to be about how I deserve better, like ten minutes ago. Or about how you deserve to die, or that you can't be forgiven, yad-da-yad-da."
"But it is true. What I did – ouff!" Anders was knocked backwards by the force of Hawke's punch, his head snapping back with a loud crack into the tree behind him. He somehow managed to stand, but sunk to his knees when Hawke's second fist connected with his unbruised side of his jaw.
"Don't. I am sick of hearing it. You don't deserve to die – you don't have that right. Whether or not you want too. And you have to keep getting back up. Facing what you did every day with a strong front. Because if you let it smother you, all you're doing is dying slowly. And you don't get to do that. The world's not going to fix itself because you die."
Anders looked up at the woman in front of him, and Hawke crouched until she was eye-level. "Do you hear me? This simpering, self-loathing ends now. Seven years ago I met a man who could take the injustices of the world and fight them with a smile and bad jokes. What happened to him?"
"He broke," said Anders softly, closing his eyes. They flew open again when Hawke grabbed his face and met his lips roughly.
"I don't believe that," she whispered harshly, "a broken man could not have been willing to throw everything he had away for what he believed was right. A broken man could not have made a choice that would ruin his entire life on the small chance that it could make someone's else life better hundreds of years later. You are not broken. You simply have momentarily forgotten what being whole feels like."
Silence fell and neither moved. Seconds stretched into minutes. Finally Anders raised his hand to cup Hawke's cheek.
"Why do you fight so hard for me? What did I ever do to make you think I am worth all this trouble?"
Hawke gave him a small and soft smile. "You fight for your values Anders – I'm not quite so noble. I tend to fight for my friends, my family, this one stupid mage who I fell head over heels for, snark and crazy and all."
She pressed her lips to his again, softly this time, but with no less emotion.
"I know what you did weighs heavily, Anders," she said quietly, pressing her forehead to his, staring into his eyes, "but that doesn't mean you can roll over. I can't say it was right, but I can say it was worthless if you don't do your best to follow through. The war's only begun. Are you going to help me fight it or not?"
This time it was Anders who kissed her, really kissed her for the first time in weeks. Hawke felt a surge of satisfaction and hope.
"Alright," he said panting slightly, and finally pulling away – much to Hawke's regret. But then he smiled, that stupid little crooked smile that always made Hawke's heart flutter. "You win."
"Don't I always?" she said lightly.
"I'm starting to suspect so," he replied, standing up. Hawke stood as well and snagged his hand, tugging him forward.
"Good. Come on mage, show me what a stud you are and pull me up the hill."
Anders ignored her wisecrack and frowned, rubbing her hand. "You're freezing!"
"That happens when you slide down snow covered mountains," she said dryly. Warmth flared at their connected hands, and in moments the pair was dry. "Wish you'd done that earlier."
"I'm so –"
"If that's an apology, I'm punching you again."
"I was just going to say I'm so sure Fenris will be disappointed you're bringing me back in one piece, plus bruises," he replied quickly, eyeing her. Hawke just shook her head, giving him a knowing look. Anders pretending not to see and went on almost thoughtfully. "And I wouldn't want to miss that. Makes a second convincing argument to live."
The quip was weak, but it was a joke, the first in what felt like months, and that was enough for Hawke. She gave him a sly smile. "I might be able to give you a third, later."
"I should have known you kept me around for the cuddling."
Hawke just laughed as they started the slow journey upwards.
A/N:
Why am I still avoiding writing up the next chapter of my chapter stories? Because of silly DA2, of course. And mages with sexy tortured looks. And a real desire to be able to toss said mages off cliffs when they won't stop whining. So this was spawned, and oddly enough had nothing to do with what I always wanted to write about Anders (not enough snark. :( Which may be more accurate to the actual game but is less fun.).
I originally wanted the summary to be: In which Hawke tosses Anders off a cliff. But then I was scared all I'd get were the people who'd be right there with Fenris cheering and then hunting me down for the disappointment in his survival. ;)
Written on impulse really, so as always, would love feedback. I'd take cookies instead though. :D
RL