A/N: Friendmance Anders/Hawke. Written to Blame Me! Blame Me! by Anberlin, I'm Not Dead, by P!nk, and For the First Time, by the Script.
Disclaimer: Don't own Anders or DA.
Her hands shook as she stood behind him. She knew what she should do. Destroyed the chantry. Killed all those people. Innocent people. How could she excuse that? If it was a stranger, she wouldn't hesitate.
But it wasn't a stranger. It was Anders. The one person in this Maker forsaken world that she had completely trusted. The one person she had left.
"There's nothing you can say that I haven't already said to myself!"
She wondered how the hell fleeing from the Darkspawn had brought her here. The last one of her family. A war breaking out around her. Her lover sitting awaiting her judgment.
Arden locked her hands behind her back as she stared down at his head. Shoulders slumped, head straight, eyes dead ahead. Was he even sorry? She doubted it. He wouldn't have done it without thinking it through. And he would say that anything to free the mages was justified. Even this.
She wondered if she would feel less betrayed if he had told her.
"Or worse you would have wanted to help!"
He was still trying to protect her. Damn it. Damn him. She wanted to be angry, to rage, that would make it easy to tell him to go or to take care of him herself.
This numbness was not conducive to decision making.
Her companions had all begun offering their suggestions. It was disheartening to hear how many of them wanted her to kill him. They had all been together for six years and they so easily threw him to the wolves. She clenched her hands into fists.
'Wake up!' she shouted at herself. 'Do something!'
The same thing her father had always told her when she was young and would agonize over the simplest decision. 'Do something!'
What would he say if he were here she wondered?
He had spent his whole life running from the Circle, then shielding Bethany from them. Would he think this was the right thing to do? He had spent his life on the run and once they were born, running further, faster, to keep them away from the Templars. But she couldn't imagine him condoning this.
But how could she tell Anders that they should just go on as they had been, leaving mages to their fate?
"Then we can all stop pretending the Circle is the solution."
Didn't she agree with him? She had taken Bethany into the Deep Roads rather than risk leaving her here without herself to protect her. She had spent six years doing her best to keep Anders and Merrill out of their reach, helping every apostate they came across.
"You know what must be done."
She knew what anyone would say should be done. But killing Anders wouldn't bring back the Grand Cleric or anyone else in that chantry. Killing him would be murder too. Stabbing him in the back.
It would destroy her if she had to do it.
"Whatever you do, just do it."
'I can't do this. I can't do this. Maker don't ask me to do this.'
He had been her everything for three years. The only thing keeping her from going crazy when she lost Bethany and her mother. Her best friend. The only person she was sure who loved her.
She thought he had loved her.
"Help me defend the mages."
The words slipped out before she could think about them any further and she knew she had to abandon any notion of herself being a good person, her pride in her attempt to always do what was right.
She was as terrible as he was. As any of them.
He jumped up and looked at her, face lit up with hope. An ache in her chest broke through the numbness.
"You mean stay with you? I didn't think you'd let me. But if you do I'll fight the Templars! Damned right I will."
He had thought she would send him away or kill him. The ache turned into a burn.
She twisted her hands together tighter to try to hide the shaking.
"No!" Sebastian was outraged, striding towards them. "You cannot let this abomination walk free! He dies or I am returning to Starkhaven and I will bring such an army on my return that there will be nothing left of Kirkwall for these Maleficarum to rule."
She swung to face him. This anger she could deal with. "Fine," she snarled. "Run home. Bring back an army. Raze a city, kill more of the people you should protect. But I won't be here. This is not my home."
"I swear to you I will come back and find your precious Anders. I will teach him what true justice is," Sebastian spat.
Arden almost pulled out her daggers then and there. "You come back for either of us and you will die," she said in a low voice. "You try to touch him and you will regret it."
He looked at her in disgust, before he turned and walked away.
"Thank you for my life," Anders said taking a step towards her. The haunted look, the anger, were still there, but so was the soft glow she only ever saw directed at her. "I'll try not to make such a mess of it this time."
She could almost hear her mother's voice after she had brought Anders to meet her. "Loving an Apostate will only bring you pain Arden."
"Let's go," she said flatly.
She tried not to look at him, because she wasn't sure if she wanted to scream at him or hug him or hurt him. Instead she cut through their enemies, never ending waves of Templars and abominations and monsters. She was coated in blood, wet and hot and sticky, the stench of it in her nose. She would have thrown up if she wasn't still too frozen to do anything except live through this hellish night.
Whatever happened, she would turn around and leave this place and never come back.
Then in a moment of quiet, a lull, Bethany back by her side, he approached her, hesitantly almost.
"I should have trusted you. Even with all we've shared I never thought you'd spare my life."
She clasped her hands together for lack of anything else to do with them. "I wish you would have," she said dully. "I wish you would trust me."
Why after all of this did it hurt her to know he had thought she would kill him? That she cared so little?
Maybe she did care so little. Maybe that was why she felt like she was turning to ice. Maybe that's why she would do nothing to avenge those people murdered.
Or maybe she cared too damn much. Enough that it was going to kill her.
"You would have been justified if you had killed me," he said in a low voice. "I would have understood."
"I could never," her voice shook. "I would never."
He paused, then very quickly started to speak again. "If we live through this you know I'll be hunted. No one in Kirkwall will offer me mercy. But if you would join me, I'd rather be on the run with you than safe with anyone else."
She wrapped her arms around herself and looked down at her boots. They were coated in blood. So much blood.
"Arden, of everything I've done, I never meant to hurt you." His voice was soft, pleading.
And she was reminded of a campfire, in the woods, nestled under her father's arm, his cloak around her. It was bitterly cold, but she was warm from the heat of his magic. He kept them all warm, kept them all safe. She had been eight, the twins just little toddlers, but this was nothing new.
To Arden it was a grand adventure. She had been too young to understand the danger.
And she remembered the way her parents looked at each other, after all those years, through everything, like they were each other's world.
"Mama, tell me why you fell in love with Papa."
"Oh Arden, that's just something that happens."
"But you had to live in the woods. And you don't like the woods."
Leandra had laughed. "Love, for your father I would even live in a cave."
"With spiders?"
"Oh yes. One day perhaps you'll live in a house for someone you love."
"I like the woods," she had said with disgust. "Houses are no fun."
"Much warmer, love."
"Papa, why don't you get a house for Mama?" she demanded. "And you and I could live in the woods out back."
He had choked back a laugh, but when he answered it was almost sad. "Little one, I would if I could. But sometimes things aren't as we'd like them."
And once they thought she had fallen asleep, she had heard them whispering. "I wish I could give you everything you deserved."
"Oh Malcolm, I knew it wouldn't be normal." One of the babies started to fuss.
"You don't regret it?"
"Not once."
He sighed. "I know you had it all before. And of everything I've done I never meant to bring harm to you."
Would her father have wanted more for her? Or would he smile and say he was pleased she was happy and would be back in her woods? She could see him now, not shaking Anders' hand, but glaring at him, telling him what he would do to him if he ever hurt her. Whispering to her that perhaps he was alright, that at any rate he looked as if he'd kill for her. A wink and a nudge and a last piece of advice, "For love Arden, people are fools for love. Your mother's proof of that."
It was enough to bring a small smile to her face.
"Then we'll be fugitives together."
She was a horrible excuse for a person and maybe he was too. Maybe they were both monsters with hands soaked in blood. Maybe someday they could do enough good to make up for it. Maybe they didn't have to be monsters or heroes, but a little bit of both.
Or maybe she was deluding herself. Maybe she was just selfish and foolish and couldn't stand to lose him.
"We will fight for a world where our children can be born mages and free. Ten years, a hundred years from now. Someone like me will love someone like you and there will be no Templars to tear them apart. May the Maker bring us victory. Everything else is meaningless."
"No," she said. "Because the Templars can try and fail to tear us apart. And what we have is all that matters."
She was a fool and perhaps a terrible person and she could not find it in her to regret it. Could she truly forgive him? She didn't know. Did she want to? Yes. Because he had held her together for the past three years and she couldn't imagine waking up every day to know he was gone, that she had sent him away.
He smiled at her then. "Are you becoming a romantic?"
She glared at him. Wishing he would get it.
Could she still live with this if he still put justice over her?
Selfish and stupid and vain. That was all she was.
"Maybe I always have been," she said flippantly.
"Love, you are what has kept me here. Justice, Vengeance, would have overtaken me a long time ago if not for you." He stepped closer to her. "What of me is left anyway. I have done what I could for the mages. And I will do more. This is just the beginning. But I will protect you." More to himself than to her he murmured. "No one will take you from me."
The sound of swords brought her back to the present. They weren't safe yet.
"We need to go," she said. "I'd hate for a man in a dress to run in waving his sword about in the middle of our touching love scene."
He looked down at her robes and in a wounded voice said, "But you like my dress."
She actually snorted. "Well I suppose it will do, but-" she started to smirk, even though she would rather cry. "It does look better on my floor."
Maybe in time the bad jokes would become real again. Maybe someday, she would be alright again. They would be alright again. Until then she would pretend that everything was fine.
He smiled at her. "I love you."
She remembered the first time he had said it. The excitement, the hope, the nerves.
That had been so long ago. They had been so different.
"Please don't give up on me Arden," he said. "I won't let you down this time."
"I love you too," she said with finality.
Maybe they would be alright.
A/N: So I wrote this to try to reconcile the fact that my Hawke was pretty much a do-gooder and while she couldn't agree with what Anders did, she still loved him and couldn't kill him or send him away either. I've noticed a lot of people either all out love or hate Anders, so I was trying to give an honest portrayal of the horror Arden felt, mixed with the feelings she had. Jury is still out if I've been successful, but I've been working on this for a while and don't think I can do much more with it.
