A/N: AU fic wherein Hawke and Anders meet again and Justice plays matchmaker. Drabble fic!
"You should court her," I tell the Boy one day.
He looks up at me from his tome. Mortal eyes filled with such confusion before whirling so quickly into panic.
It surprises them. When I know the names of mortal emotions while the other spirits do not. But I am not like them. Not anymore.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Justice," he responds hotly. So young and brash I think. Perhaps too young? But no, this matter cannot wait any longer. She has many admirers, many suitors who would steal her away if the fool boy lingers in his lethargy.
"You must court her," I repeat, pulsing my aura brightly but unable to do more. Without a mortal vessel, my abilities are quite limited. "Else someone does before you,"
The Boy is quite agitated now but at least he has not disregarded me completely. He drags his tome closer, like a shield against my light. "Maker's Breath! Why are we even discussing this? I don't see why spirits would care about such things!"
Others would not. But not I. Sigh, perhaps I am being unfair. He is so very young still. At least to these ancient eyes. "You remind me of someone I once knew," I begin wistfully.
"Not one of your demon friends I hope," he sourly mumbles.
In another life I would have flared outrage. Now I simply wish for mortal arms to cuff his impudent head. Patience was a lesson hard learned. "No. He was a mage, like you." I hesitate, wondering what I could safely add. "He loved another. But circumstances were not in their favour and they faced many obstacles," And I was one of them…
"I don't see how…"
But I am no longer in the quiet library. I am no longer facing the Boy. I am standing before a burning building, flickers of flame raining down upon me. "You both are so alike," I whisper. And it is true. Their mannerism, their voices, even their mortal appearances are so achingly familiar. I must do right by them this time. I must bring justice for them. If I had learned anything in the mortal world, it was that second changes were never to be squandered. "You will court her," I say finally, my path set.
The Boy huffs, dropping his tome down loudly. "I don't even know if she likes me!"
At least he does not deny attraction to her. I do not know what I would have done if he didn't. "Lies. She grants you her favour, even if you fail to see it. Now enough of this apathy. You will go speak with her and invite her to this spring's solace,"
The Boy falters, as his face goes red. "I can't do that!" he wails, clutching his useless tome like a lifeline.
"Then I shall ask her in your stead," I announce, louder than necessary and sure enough a certain head perks up in interest. She has always been drawn to us. To me. Some part of me that is still mortal is oddly smug about this. But I push it away. This is their time now and mine has long since passed.
It is with an ungallant amount of amusement that I watch the Boy flounder haphazardly when he realises the Girl has picked up her own books and is heading our way. As she approached our desk, he finally settles into a poorly hidden aloof stance, propping his chin upon him palm and faking indifference.
She exchanges pleasant greetings. He stutters a reply. Finally, she turns to me, her mortal eyes as vivid as I remember them. "Hello Justice,"
"Greetings," I intone, a familiar warmth flooding my essence. I would have smiled if only I had lips. Still, I pulse brighter for her, and hope she notices the gesture.
And of course, she does and a returning smile graces her mortal face. "How are your studies going?" She addresses the question to me but her eyes dart shyly back to the Boy. And again, he does not notice. Too busy being flustered and flipping through his wretched tome with forced nonchalance.
But I can feel the table reverberating as his knee thumps against the bottom frantically. I recognize this action. Anders used to do it all the time.
The two trade small talk as I watch from my glass prison. But it is a conversation that skirts the matter at hand and I grow weary of their awkward courtship. If it even gets that far. "I am told of that there will be celebrations this spring solace?" I enquire to the open air, directing the question at neither.
The Girl responses first, she always had time for me. "Ah, that's right Justice. It's Freedom's Call Day, and marks the end of the Thedas Wars. It's going to be quite the event here in Kinloch. Even my family from Kirkwall is travelling down to see it,"
"Intriguing. Don't you think so?" I direct the question to him. It is an opening on a silver platter, as the mortal saying went, and only a blind fool would miss it. But… I had counted the boy a fool on many occasions—
"Would you like to go to the spring solace with me?" he all but blurts.
If I had a face, I would have winced. In agony. As it stands, I could only draw my glow in tighter, like palms covering an exasperated face. While sharing many similarities to another mage I knew, this mage had the social grace and wit of a drunken bronto.
Ridiculously fortunate for him then, that the Girl was infatuated enough to overlook his blundering attempts at wooing her. She ducks her head down, a bright scarlet blush spreading across her nose and cheeks, as she clutches her books tighter. "O-Oh!" she stutters shyly, a barely suppressed grin simply glowing in brilliant radiance. "You want me to go with you?"
Sometimes mortals asked pointless questions. He would not have asked if he didn't, would he?
The Boy is now standing up himself, limbs all gangly and awkward. "Y-Yes?" But then his hopeful face wavers and in a rush he blurts out again: "Unless you don't want to because that would be perfectly fine because I wouldn't want to force you—"
No no no! It would not be fine! Do not falter in your mission!
"No!" she cuts in, almost panicky. Embarrassed, she checks herself and meets his gaze head on. "Sorry. What I meant to say was, yes I would love to go with you." That poise, that look, that strength. All so familiar. I had been on its receiving end once but now I am simply a distant observer.
Still, I can witness it once more in all its living splendour. A far cry better than a tightly held memory. So I am content.
I watch his smile grow even more ridiculous, and there is such… such… happiness flowing from them both. It only hardens my resolve to protect it. In this life, I will guard it. In this life I will save it. They are both now chattering animatedly, hands inching closer and closer.
Yes. Yes I am content, Faith. I am content.
