Author's Note: Anders/Fem!Hawke mage romance. I've got Fenris/Fem!Hawke mage planned, and a Varric one floating in my head. If you have any ideas you want to see, PM or comment and I'll see what kind of plot bunnies I can come up with. So. Enjoy! It's not beta'd. Note: I realized the first few sentences were a mess. Fixed that.
Disclaimer: Some game lines, stuff's not mine.
I didn't even see the group enter my clinic until they were halfway to me. And even then, I didn't see them. Justice could sense them. Her.
"I have made this a place of sanctum and healing, why do you threaten it?" It wasn't me, not entirely. Justice had taken over for a minute, because the second I laid eyes on her I couldn't have said two coherent words in a row if my life depended on it.
I felt Justice's disapproval as his presence faded to a dull thrum in the back of my mind and stood down a little as she spoke, offering an attempt at an apology for disturbing me and making conversation to put me at ease.
I could barely struggle to understand her at first, so incredibly enraptured was I from the second I caught sight of her.
One thing could be said about mage robes in Kirkwall; they were definitely more flattering than anything I had seen a mage in back in Ferelden. She wore dark, worn boots to her knees with light green pants, tight and dirty that matched the green and chainmail surcoat over a studded green shirt with a high collar. Her hair was dark and thick, piled atop her head and long enough that I had a hard time believing she didn't need to keep it tied up to get anything accomplished. While I struggled to make conversation about Ser Pounce-A-Lot and the Wardens, my eyes caught on a buckle peeking out against her leg. I bet it was a dagger sheath, although the long staff strapped to her back made me believe that she wielded more than a large knife. A large, thick belt hung with various things nearly matched the color of her boots rested against her hips and accentuated the curve of her waist above it. She looked thin, too thin, but the way her body was shaped was beyond incredible.
Before Justice, I had been quite the ladies' (and mans') man, and I knew that. I fondly remembered those days, even if Justice disapproved. But it was nothing like seeing the vision in front of me.
Somehow I managed to navigate my way through a conversation with her and agreed to help her get into the Deep Roads if she agreed to help me help Karl.
When she left my clinic, she did not leave my mind. From that moment forward, I ached with the thought of her despite myself. The gentle curve of her jaw; her perfectly formed lips full and pouty, quick to sass and to smooth; her eyes, wide and brown and shaped like almonds with a shine like the stars; even her nose was impeccable, long and magnificently unbroken despite her best efforts, her nostrils just a little flared to open up her face. That's probably a weird thing to say, but you just can't understand. A more beautiful woman never lived, and I was sure of it. Her skin seemed to be perpetually just tanned, as if she had one long-lost Rivaini family member.
I had never believed in love at first site; Andraste's knickers, I barely believed in love to begin with. And at first I thought I was just obsessed with her; I just thought I wanted to get laid, to be honest. Despite Justice, I found myself at the Blooming Rose one night so that I could relieve my tension. We had spent too much time too close together in the Deep Roads and I couldn't breathe for want of her. She was busy reeling over the fact that her asshole brother had gone and joined the Templars and dealing with organizing everything with her family estate so that she and her mother might move in. I had a night to myself and I was going to do everything I could to erase her from my mind.
It didn't work. It didn't even sort of work. It made it worse. In addition to a wicked hangover and the taste of a prostitute in my mouth, all I could feel was shame for days. Weeks. I had said Hawke's name over and over that night and had practically cried with the need of her, drunk out of my mind and trying my best to ignore the insistence of Justice niggling in my consciousness. He didn't talk to me, but he didn't have to. He was like my conscience. Only more annoying.
The fact that she seemingly accepted everything about me made me believe it was more about all of her than just wanting to see her naked. She accepted Justice. She accepted my anger. She accepted the fact that I flirted and then backpedaled, she accepted that I looked at her too long.
You can tell me anything, she had murmured, unbidden. Be careful what you offer, I told her. And then she said I was handsome, and I told her to stop. She pushed and I pushed back. I tried to convince her to leave me, to tell her that I would inevitably break her heart, that I couldn't handle that. I nearly told her I loved her that day, not two days before the expedition, only hardly days after meeting her. Love was weakness and I needed her, craved her, loved her. Obsessed didn't even scratch the surface.
I spent as much time in her presence as possible, like a sad puppy dog with no other direction in life. When I wasn't trying desperately to hide my fawning, I was pouring myself over the poor population in an attempt to block the world out. If the idea of turning into Fenris didn't make me want to retch, I probably would have started drinking profusely. Instead I threw myself into assisting apostates and the downtrodden – which were often the same people.
She found me, exhausted and blissfully alone, in dying candlelight in the corner of my clinic. The glow from her staff faded to the dullest of glows when she stopped in front of me, lowering herself to her knees.
No matter how tired I was, that was not fair. The clothes she wore now were finer, the armor more refined and, if possible, closer to her skin. In the summer months, she preferred bare arms and magical shields. It was, magnificently, very warm. She hadn't even bothered to wear armor that night. She had clearly taken the cellar of her home to where it came out just beside my clinic, her red and black noble clothes too fine for our dingy surroundings. When she knelt, she knelt in dirt and her tight black dragonhide pants were thus dirtied. It seemed desperately wrong, but there was nothing to be done.
Her delicate, long-fingered hands rested on my knees and she looked up at me from a position I had imagined her in a hundred thousand times. And she was touching me, even if it was through far too many layers of clothing.
She was relatively close to everyone most of the time; she was the sort of person that hugged other people for no reason at all, that stood close without batting an eyelash about it. And the sort of person that knelt at the feet of her friend, touching him and driving him crazy.
I opened my eyes completely and moved my hands over hers, hesitating before I lifted her hands and slowly moved them off of me. I couldn't stand it much longer, with her practically between my legs and the warm of her skin practically burning me through my clothes.
"Anders," she breathed and I nearly died at the sound in her voice. It was excited, strained, needy. Not the kind of need I wanted to hear, but she needed me. "Anders, I just got your letter. About what's going on with the mages here. The Knight-Commander. I had to come, to make sure you were okay."
"You can't…you shouldn't," I started, not really sure what I was trying to say. She had moved and she was leaning over me, her hands on my face and I thought my heart stopped. I inhaled sharply, my hands covering hers but not taking them away.
"If they so much as breathe in your direction," she hissed, her eyes flashing in the candlelight from beside her. Her staff's glow was gone now, settled against the wall closest to us – right beside mine.
"But you're in danger too, Hawke. Because of me more than just you." I could hear the sound of my beard scratching against her soft skin as my jaw moved beneath her hands and I tried to keep my breathing even when her hands slid to rest gently against my neck on either side and she leaned close, her forehead pressed to mine. I held my eyes closed tightly, afraid of what I would do if I looked at her so close to me. "All of this, the struggle to keep my anger separate from Justice… I would lose everything if they took you, Hawke. I would drown us in blood to keep you safe."
She sighed and her breath, sweet from the mead that she had been drinking at dinner no doubt, washed over me before she pulled back. Her hands dropped to her sides and I nearly reached out to bring her closer again. "I don't want to see you lose yourself, Anders. Not for me, not for anyone. Not to your anger or to the Templars."
"When you take away those, what is left?" I responded bitterly, suddenly stiffening with anger. I had let her closeness cloud my mind. I needed her but I couldn't have her and I knew it.
"You, Anders – and Justice. Justice can be a part of you but your anger doesn't need to be," she frowned at me and I thought my heart was breaking at the look on her face. I wanted her to smile again, to be close, to kiss me. Oh, for the love of Andraste, I wanted her to kiss me more than I wanted to save the mages in those moments.
I wanted to hold her pull her into my lap but instead I pushed her back a little, gently of course, and stood. She was tall for a woman but a head shorter than me. She would have fit perfectly against my chest, if I pulled her into a hug. "I can only be who I am, Hawke. And I know that the anger in me is just as much a part of me as Justice is. There will be violence - more violence. And I…if you keep yourself close to me, I'll only hurt you. I've told you a thousand times, Hawke, I will break your heart."
"I can't lose you, Anders," she responded to me, matter-of-factly and without a frown or a smile. "I won't.
"Hawke, stop," I winced, putting my hands on her shoulders. The candlelight was soft, highlighting only half of her features. But I could still see her, so clearly after memorizing her every feature over the last several months. "This isn't what you want. I'm not what you want. You shouldn't be with an apostate like me. Especially…it's…I can't control myself around you. I am dangerous."
She opened her mouth to speak but I shook my head and lifted a finger to her lips, "No, Hawke. I can't…don't tempt me, not unless you're ready for what…for what all of this mean."
She stared at me, wide-eyed, before she leaned in and wrapped her arms around me. I gasped at the movement, body rigid as she hugged me and her head nestled below my chin. After a long, awkward moment I wrapped my arms loosely around her and relaxed, if only a little. I shivered, knowing how dangerously close to her bare skin I was. My hands on the silk of her robelike tunic, I could feel the little raised bump of her breastband. I tried desperately to keep my hands from searching out its lines beneath her shirt.
She had hugged me numerous times before, but never this long and never this underdressed. It was almost always while she was wearing armor and it was usually very, very brief.
And I didn't want it to end. In fact, as she started to pull away, I tightened my grip a little and settled my cheek atop her soft hair. She exhaled a sigh and, after a few more minutes, she moved away from me and I stood, watching her grab her staff and leaving me without another word. At least I got to watch her walk away, the candelight helping just a little to outline her delicious figure.
I collapsed back into the chair with my staff crossed over my body as I forced myself to sleep because I couldn't deal with the fact that I had just let her walk away again.
We saw each other practically every day but very rarely alone. We spent time together at the Hanged Man with our other friends, or at least our other compatriots, but oftentimes there was at least Varric in tow. Which was, truth be told, probably safer. If she came back to me in that same outfit, I didn't think I'd be able to stop myself.
She came to me some time later, perhaps a month shy of us knowing each other for two years, and stalked in. The clinic was slow that day and no one was around. She was clearly furious and I was, I'm not ashamed to say, a little afraid as to the reason why.
"Varric told me there have been Templars here. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I haven't seen you yet?" I offered weakly, taking half a step back from her. She was wearing a different set of armor than normal, a dark leather with light plate here and there. It was more like her every day clothing, mostly a pair of pants and a tunic but all of it fit like a second skin. It was growing much colder outside so her amount of bare skin was greatly, depressingly decreased.
"Am I going to have to sleep on your doorstep?"
"I can't imagine that would be very comfortable."
She snorted, shaking her head as she threw her hands up into the air. I watched her as she let the tension drain from her shoulders and wished that I could massage her delicate skin.
It was frigid outside, as cold as Kirkwall got. I had to find her, though; I needed her help.
I told her about the free mages, about the Tranquil Solution, about Ser Alrik. She agreed, without question, to help me.
And then it all went wrong. I remembered fleeing, as I settled into my clinic with a flask that I had hidden from myself. I lit a small fire in the fire-pit and sat for a moment before I downed some of the burning liquid and then stood, moving to start reorganize my things. I had to leave. I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. I was lost and I couldn't drag Hawke down with me.
I hadn't even heard her enter the clinic and didn't know she was there until her hand was on my arm.
"Anders."
I jumped and stilled, turning to look to her. "What are you doing here?"
"You're upset and we need to talk."
"What is there to talk about?" I grimaced, clenching my jaw. And my fists. "I very nearly murdered a girl, a mage – the very person we're intent on saving. I - we, Justice and I…we're a monster. I cannot do this, I can't put you in danger being here."
"Anders. You were able to hear me, despite all of it, and you stopped. It is okay, she's okay – we're okay. You're able to control him, to some degree, still. And we can continue to work on it. You aren't a monster, Anders. We just need to… Anders, you knew in your heart what you were doing was wrong. That is everything. We can do this."
"You have too much faith in me. Without you…"
"Without me, nothing. There is no without me," she replied, and I thought I would break in two. "I am here, Anders." Her hand found mine and squeezed gently. She let go after a brief moment and it was everything I could do not to chase it with my own. "I know this is hard – mages are dangerous, or at least we can be. You and I, we have to prove that mages deserve to be free by proving that we can be normal – that we can live lives without demolishing them." She smiled a little lopsidedly, a very light pink blushing her cheeks. "I may not be the best example. But I do my best."
"If anyone is the perfect example of what a mage can be, it is you," I said, not able to stop myself. I practically had to hold myself up against my table to keep myself back from her.
"Anders," she moved closer, holding out papers. "I found these. After you left. Ser Alrik took the Solution to Meredith and to the Divine." She paused, and I thought I was going to die with anticipation. "Both of them, they denied him. He was just a terrible person, out of his mind with power. And everything, Anders – right now – everything is okay."
She left me again, with a look that made me feel better than all the words in all of Thedas could.
As with most of the nights that she came to visit me, she came to me with a package of food as a gift from her mother.
"What are you doing?" she asked as I kneeled by the front door, setting a saucer down.
"Setting out milk," I responded, shifting to stand and wiping my hands off as I watched her set the package down on my small table beside my chairs. "I miss having a cat around."
"I'm sure Shadow could scare one up for you," she smiled, the beautiful smile that meant everything was perfect for the moment. "I mean, without hurting it, of course."
"I may have to resort to that. I think the refugees have scared them all off, or eaten them," I laughed a little, running my hair through my recently cut hair. "I…uhh, thank you for the dinner. From Leandra?"
"She's afraid you don't eat," she shrugged a little, her lips quirked up as she reached out and touched my arm lightly. "And frankly, so am I. Besides, it's nice to see you…you know, alone sometimes. I wish you'd visit me more. I know it's dangerous, but you can always take the cellar. Mother would have to have you over, too. She thinks you're quite handsome."
"She does, does she?"
"She makes me blush sometimes," she grinned and color bloomed in her cheeks. "I mean, I…"
"So you think I'm handsome too, then?"
"You know I do, Anders," she rolled her eyes at me and squeezed my arm gently.
Something in me broke. I couldn't keep it in any longer, not for one second. I couldn't hold back, not for one more second.
"Hawke," I spoke, and she could tell by my voice that I was changing the conversation. Her hand dropped to her side and she adjusted her stance to be straight-shouldered as she looked up at me, "…You know. You know all there is to know about me. You know what I almost did to that girl, everything about Justice. You know what a future would be like with someone like me. You've seen what I am, but I am still a man. You can't…you can't tease me like this and expect me to resist forever."
She blinked her wide brown eyes at me briefly before the edge of her perfect lips quirked up, just the one side. "…And how long, pray do tell, will it take to make you break?"
Little did she know that I already had. It wasn't even really a decision as I walked to two steps it took to scoop her up against me, one hand diving into her hair and the other wrapping around her back to hold her as tightly against me as I could. It took her half a second to realize what was going on but, just after my lips found hers, her arms were around me, holding me tight. I wanted her closer than this. I hated every layer of armor she wore, even if it continually saved her life in other situations.
The kiss was everything I thought it would be and I felt my heart swell in my chest as I poured every second of the last – Maker, what, three, three and a half? years – into that first kiss.
It ended far too quickly and I thought I would faint, honestly, at first. When I looked down at her face, I wanted to kiss her all over again. She looked up at him, starry-eyed and lips reddened. I swallowed hard, looking down at her and feeling like I could die. But in the best way.
"For over three years," I breathed, moving my hand from her hair to her cheek, "I have been unable to stop thinking about you. I just…I ache for you, Hawke."
"Three years?" she murmured, eyes wide as she lifted a hand to smooth across the back of mine against her cheek. "And you're just now telling me?"
I chuckled a little, feeling hollow and full all in the same breath. "This can only end disastrously, but I can't live without it. Without you. We could die tomorrow and I need you to know how I feel about you." I let my hand fall frown her cheek and turned away a little, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable.
Her hands were on my cheeks, turning my face gently towards hers. "And how do you feel about me, Anders?"
I felt sick, the words so close. Instead, I blurted out, "I can't give you a normal life, Hawke. When I accepted Justice, I thought that was the end of anything like this. If you are with me, this will not be an easy life."
"My life never has been," she murmured, and I fell in love with her all over again when she pulled my face gently to hers, pressing her lips to mine for an all too brief kiss.
"…I will come to your house tonight, Hawke. If you leave your bedroom door open, I will come to you and tell you everything. Every thought I have ever had about you, how I need you, how I want you, how I lo-" I stopped, hissing in a breath, "…but if your door is closed, I will understand and that will be the end of it."
"From this night on," she smiled at me and I felt weak and electric all at once as she moved to leave the clinic, "I will leave my bedroom door open."
And she left me, my heart thudding in my chest like a stampeding bronto. Because I believed and, probably more than that, because I wanted to.
She did. She left the door open and I saw her, standing gazing into the fire with much less on than I had seen her in aside from the times I healed her, before she saw me. I stopped outside of the room, eyes trailing over her in case this didn't go as planned. I needed to commit this to memory.
The red silk tunic she had worn all that time ago, on her knees in front of me, was all that she wore that I could see. Her legs, long and lean and tan by birth, seemed to be endless. Her fingers worried the lower hem of her shirt and it looked somehow lower cut than it did before. Or undone.
I propelled myself forward through the door, walking a little heavier for effect and she jumped slightly, turning to look at me and stilling her hands immediately.
"Anders," she smiled at me, and I wanted to freeze that image forever. The look she gave me made me feel warm and cold all over, "…I am so glad you came. I wasn't sure if…"
"I couldn't stop myself if I tried. And trust me, Justice did. He doesn't approve of my…obsession with you," I responded a little awkwardly, stopping far enough away that I could see all of her. "He believes that you're a distraction. You are one of the few things on which he and I disagree."
"I'm glad that you and I are on the same page, at least," she had turned completely to me and I wanted to walk over and scoop her into my arms. I set my staff down against the side of the fireplace. "I think…you know, if you hadn't come, I think I would have gone looking for you."
"Like that?" I asked, regretting it immediately as her cheeks flared with color. "Not- …not that I am complaining, not at all. It just… I'm sorry, Hawke. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm nervous."
She smiled again and took a step towards me. "It's okay. So am I."
"I don't know…how to do this. How to love. In the Circle, it wasn't…it was never real. A game. Something to pass the time. You couldn't really love someone because love gave the Templars power over you. They could take away something you love. And I don't think…I couldn't handle losing you. I think, honestly, I might just…die."
I hadn't realized I'd moved closer, nor that I was reaching out to her cheek. She was still but not in a frightened way. "You won't ever lose me," she murmured, tilting her head into my hand. She closed her eyes briefly but found mine again.
"No mage I know has ever dared to fall in love," I said, eyes locked on hers. I couldn't look away if my life depended on it. "I didn't have a say in it and this is the rule I will most cherish breaking."
My hand slid into her hair and as I leaned in, lips hovering over hers, I heard her whisper, "And I love you too, Anders."
I don't think, after those words left her lips, I would have been able to stop if the Templars came to drag me away. I lost myself in the taste and feel of her, tempering my need and desire for completion with need and desire to know exactly how ever tiny spec of her felt. I tasted and touched every inch of her and I was relatively confident the both of us were ready to explode when we finally came together. The twisted thing was, as soon as we settled next to each other in her giant bed, I the ache doubled in my chest. Instead of feeling somewhat satisfied, I felt like I would never know the end to the hunger I felt for her. So instead of allowing either of us to fall asleep, I kissed and touched her until I was useful again and we continued on until we both collapsed in complete exhaustion. Even as I dreamt, it was more of how I needed her. I was terrified of how much I burned for her, but she had finally let me in. And she loved me too.
She loved me. The beautiful, perfect woman that I was holding, snoozing lightly against my side. She loved me and I loved her and, for a minute, there wasn't a damn thing the world could do about it.
She woke up a little after I did – it wasn't that I minded being awake. It gave me time to examine her features, her beauty, the way her lips twitched every few seconds with whatever she was dreaming of.
I needed her with every breath. When she stirred, I couldn't stop myself from tugging her closer. She smiled a slow, contented sort of smile as she turned to press a kiss against my chest.
"I could get used to this," she murmured, stretching her arm across me as she moved to settle her cheek against my shoulder and her forehead against my scruffy jaw.
"You mean last night?"
"That too," she purred, her hand slipping below the blanket to graze my leg. She didn't need to do much to stir me, being close to her was enough. "But I meant waking up with you. Anders..." She spoke, her voice low as she tugged the blanket away from both of us and climbed on top of me, mesmerizing me with the sight and feel of her. "Will you stay with me? Here?"
"Do you mean.." I hesitated, not wanting to ask and be wrong. But she nodded, sliding her hands up my chest as she leaned down to kiss me. "You would have me live with you? Here in Hightown, have the nobles and Templars subject to our love?"
"Only if you promise," she started, kissing every part of me she could gain quick access to, "to make love to me every chance we get."
"I can most definitely promise you that."
And, for a while, it was magnificent. I moved in that day and fulfilled my promise repeatedly every chance I got. I touched her and kissed her in public, I told her I loved her with every breath (not literally) and the more I had her, the more I wanted her. And the more I wanted her, the more Justice disapproved. The more Justice disapproved, the harder he became to control.
But it was okay. It was okay because Hawke stuck by me. Hawke was with me through everything, trying to help me understand what was going on - trying to find a way to save the mages and save Justice.
There came a time when I lied to her and I knew something was wrong with me because it was easy. I needed ingredients for something despicable, something I knew as a man was wrong but something I couldn't stop myself from doing. But I am getting ahead of myself.
I followed her back to her estate the night her mother died but didn't approach her right away. I couldn't figure out what to say or do. I let her find her bed and change. She seemed unaffected aside from the blank look on her face.
When she settled on the side of her bed, staring into the wall across from her, I knocked. "Come in," she said, deadpan, and she didn't turn when I sat beside her.
"I know there's nothing I can say…but I am sorry, Hawke."
She remained silent and I frowned, searching my mind for the right words. "No one can blame you for this."
"You don't know my family very well," she snorted, clasping her knees gently.
"That's true, but they have no right."
"I wasn't fast enough," she responded, not trying to deny my statement.
"It just wasn't possible, Hawke. You have to know it wasn't your fault."
"Part of me does. But part of me thinks I should've known…or something. Should've been able to stop it. Should've tried harder before, when Gascard was a problem before."
"At least you have your memories. And when the pain fades, you'll be glad of those."
"Some of them, anyway. But thank you. For coming, and for waiting."
"Do you want me to stay at the clinic tonight?"
She turned to me then and if I ever questioned her love for me, I never would again with the look she gave me. "Not on your life, Anders."
And, despite the fact that I knew she would eventually kill me, I stayed and loved her with every fiber of my being. If it had to be someone, I'd want it to be her. I just didn't want it to break her heart, even if I knew there was no way around it.
It was incredible, her love for me. She did not question me, not that I know of. She offered to help me in whatever endeavors I put to her. Occasionally she would express concern at my intensity but she agreed with my methods, for the most part. As Justice and I grew emboldened, she did too. I don't think she was the same person that I met all those years ago and I believed it was my doing. The closer the time came, the harder it was for me. The Arishok proved a good distraction, especially when he nearly took the one thing still anchoring me to some semblance of reality.
I kept her in bed for days, fawning over her every waking minute. She was more or less unconscious for most of the time and when she finally sat up, I thought I would die of relief.
"Oh, love, it's so nice to see you," she smiled at me as I sat beside her, reaching out to touch her cheek.
"You scare me half to death, Hawke," I breathed, drinking in her animated features. At that point, I was still seriously contemplating the split between myself and Justice. It would be some weeks before I became obsessed with my plan to destroy the Chantry.
"But we won," she lifted her hand, shaky and cold, to press my palm closer to her cheek and hold it there. "With you at my side, I cannot lose," she continued and turned her face to kiss my palm.
My blood heated immediately and I smiled sheepishly, "You can't do that. You're barely awake."
"I need you," she murmured against my skin and, despite my better judgment, I couldn't deny her. And I didn't really want to.
The mage tension grew fiercer and so did Hawke. To my knowledge, she did not speak to or of her Templar brother although I would come to find out that I was mistaken.
She stood for the mages every chance she got, even when Meredith none-too-subtly threatened her. She may have been the Champion, she may have been noble, and she may have had the peoples' favor – but Meredith never let her forget who was in charge. Hawke didn't care because, above all, she believed she was in the right.
The scariest interaction to date was the argument that took place in the Gallows, one that Hawke originally had no intention of joining. She and I had been to purchase a book I required to continue my manifesto – something that she was actually involved in, to my delight – and the First Enchanter asked her to participate in the discussion, knowing full well her belief on the subject. Meredith too knew Hawke's feelings and did not want her to speak. She made a rather uncouth comment regarding our relationship, which only fueled Hawke's resolve to let everyone know exactly what she thought ought to be done.
Things grew ever worse in Kirkwall over the ensuing years, bringing me closer and closer to the decision to do what Justice and I decided must be done. Without question or hesitation, Hawke helped me procure the necessary elements despite the fact that I do not believe she truly accepted my explanation. Although I was distracted by the ever-growing urgency to do something, our relationship did not suffer. She threw herself into what had become our work and we still made love with every opportunity. For a man that had no thought to be in love, I was the happiest I could have ever imagined.
Many things happened before that fateful day, but when I think back on my life I remember it the most. Not, perhaps, because I blew up the Chantry and killed countless innocent people. Not because I started a war. But because of the look of hurt and betrayal in the eyes of the one woman that meant more to me than anything. I don't believe I will ever forget that look as long as I live.
"But Anders," she whispered, shock contorting her features as she approached me, hand outstretched. "How…how could you?"
"I had to do something." I couldn't tell her the truth, it would only make her feel as though she was responsible. I had done it, in essence, for her. Because she deserved a free world. Because the child inside of her (she, she had no idea) deserved to be free, to never have to worry about Templars.
"But we..we were," she cried, her hand on my cheek. "Destroying the Chantry is one thing; killing innocents is something else entirely. Is this…there never was a potion, was there?"
And the look she gave me froze me to the core. I thought I was prepared for her to hate me, but I was not prepared for the pain in her eyes. The heartbreak evident on her face.
Our companions – her friends – called for my blood and what she did next surprised me most of all. I had been completely prepared for her to strike me down, had thought that I would die at the hands of my love.
"If any of you so much as draw blood, I will destroy you."
Sebastian did not take kindly to that and left us. Fenris, despite his views on magic, stood by Hawke. No one attempted to harm me. Hawke turned back to me and pulled me up by the front of my robes.
"This is our fight, Anders. Youy were the catalyst, but it has been long in coming. I need you by my side."
And she took my by the hand.
We went on the run immediately after the battle was won – or as close as it could be. I had warned her it would be hard but she never complained, not even when the pregnancy sickness struck her. It took her days to realize what it was and I knew from the look on her face that the rest of my Taint-shortened life would be as perfect as it ever could have been.
