[Author's Note: This is the start of a longer story using the same Hawke character as my last fic, The Key. Any and all comments or criticisms are welcome.]
A New Creation
Chapter One:
The Gathering Storm
Ten Days Before the Destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry
Sarai Hawke strode quickly through the Hanged Man, but with none of her usual grace and confidence. Her shoulders were hunched; a hunted look hung around her. The Rivani pirate-duelist, Isabela, watched with interest and a pang of concern as her friend crossed the tavern. But it was clear that Sarai was there to see someone else.
Sarai hurried up the stairs and burst into Varric's room. The dwarf looked up in surprise. "Hawke, what brings you here?"
Her voice trembled when she spoke. She gestured nervously. "It's... Anders... I think he's done something terrible."
Now Varric looked at Sarai more intently. "Hawke, you're shaking like a scared kitten. I've never seen you like this before. What in the name of Andraste's ass happened between you two?"
Sarai hesitated. "Do you remember when we went down into the sewers?"
"How could I forget?"
"Anders told me..." She heaved a shuddering sigh. "He told me he needed ingredients. For a potion that would separate him from Justice."
"And you didn't think that sounded too good to be true?"
"I thought—I don't know what I thought! I just hoped that maybe it would..." She trailed off.
"It would cure him?" Varric ventured.
Sarai nodded in response.
"I hate to break it to you, my friend, but you can't cure crazy." *
"You don't need to make me feel any worse than I do already!" She snapped.
"All right, all right. So the potion didn't work, or it didn't exist?"
"It never existed," she said quietly. "He lied to me."
Varric regarded his friend with concern. "Why don't you tell me the whole story."
So she did—beginning with Anders' request for help, their trips into the sewers and to the Bone Pit, and their confrontation when they returned. "He manipulated me. And still he wouldn't tell me the truth." She slammed her hands down on the table. "The person I trusted most in the world, and he lied to me!"
"So what did he need all those ingredients for?"
"I don't know. I still don't know. But he took me to the Chantry, asked me to distract the Grand Cleric."
"Maker," Varric swore. "That can't be good."
"I just don't know what to do anymore, Varric. Was it all a lie? Everything he ever told me? Was he just using me all along?"
"You know there's only one person who can answer those questions, Hawke, and it's not me. But for what it's worth, I don't think he was faking all these years. Either he's the best damned actor Thedas has ever seen—and I doubt that—or he's really in love with you."
Sarai sighed deeply. "I think this is his idiotic way of protecting me. As if he can insulate me from his plans. As if I'm not already involved."
"We're all involved, now. Whatever's going to happen, we can't escape that."
She nodded but remained silent.
"So what do you do now, Champion?"
She flinched at the title. "I don't know anymore."
"Then let me give you a push in the right direction. Go talk to him."
"I can't. I can't face him."
"You're going to have to. For his sake, and for the rest of us."
~—~
Three Days After the Destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry
Anders buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the swaying motion of the ship. Trying to ignore his thoughts. Trying to ignore his memories of the past two weeks.
After he had admitted to her that he had lied, that there was no potion, everything had seemed to fall apart. It was just as he had feared. They clashed several times before he finally left her estate and returned to his clinic for good. Until that cursed morning when she had come to find him, to bring him along for a confrontation between Meredith and Orsino. He had known then that it was time. He had done what he intended, but this—he glanced up at the open water—this was not what he had expected.
She hadn't spoken to him in three days. No—that wasn't right. She had spoken to him, had smiled at him, had touched his arm gently as she whispered in his ear. Maker, she had laughed.
In fact, the only thing she hadn't done was bring up his crime, his guilt. It hung over his shoulder like some enormous beast, threatening to consume him. Why won't she talk about it? Why didn't she kill me when she had the chance? Maker's breath, why does she keep acting like she still loves me?
Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't hear Sarai approach. "Do you feel sick?" she asked.
He jumped to his feet, startled. "Sarai. I—no. I'm fine."
She took a step closer, concerned. "Are you sure? You don't look well."
He swallowed. "I'm fine. I don't get seasick."
"All right. I'll leave you alone." She turned to go.
Without thinking, he grabbed her arm. "Sarai, wait."
She looked up into his golden eyes calmly.
"What are you doing?" He said, choked with emotion. "What... What is happening between us?"
She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. "Anders, all I'm doing is what I've always done. Loving you."
Her words were so sincere, but he turned away as quickly as if she'd slapped him. "Why? How can you still love me? How can you accept me after everything I've done? After what I've done to you?"
"What have you done to me?"
It hurt even to think about, but he forced himself to answer, whispering, "I tricked you. You trusted me, and I used that trust to my advantage."
"Why did you do it?" Her voice held no accusation. She sounded almost like a teacher coaxing an answer out of a child.
"Because I had to! Because the mages needed to be freed. Because Meredith had to be destroyed."
She shook her head. "No. You're wrong."
He could have screamed in frustration and confusion. "What, then? You know my motives better than I do?"
"Perhaps. Anders, you just gave me all the reasons you destroyed the Chantry. That's not why you lied to me." When he said nothing, she continued, "You lied to me because you were afraid to trust me. Afraid I'd turn my back on you."
The truth stung, but he couldn't deny it. "You deserve so much better than me," he said bitterly.
"I don't want anyone but you, Anders." She put her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. "I promised you I would be with you until the day we died. I intend to keep that promise."
"I don't understand you. How you can keep loving me."
"You hurt me, Anders," she admitted quietly. "But you acted out of fear, not malice. I want to help you overcome that fear. I will not leave you."
For the first time since he had decided to lie to her, weeks before, he felt a glimmer of hope. "What would you have of me?"
"I want you to trust me, Anders. We'll get through this together."
Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his lips against her hair, and dared to believe her.
~—~
Nine Days Before the Destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry
A patient came to the door of the Darktown clinic, but the sight of rogue and mage facing off against one another, voices raised, drove him quickly away again.
"For the last time, no! I will not tell you!"
"How can you keep this from me? I trusted you—I thought you trusted me!"
"If you trust me, then trust me now. I do what must be done to achieve justice."
"You already have Justice," she said bitterly.
He turned away at her words. "I will not tell you, no matter what you say."
Sarai felt her heart breaking. Just as he warned me it would. The thought was no comfort. "Anders, please. I love you."
He turned back to her, his features softening. "And I swear, I love you. But this—some things are greater even than love."
She drowned her pain in hot anger. "If you believe that, then you know nothing of love, Anders."
She turned and left the clinic. When she had gone, Anders fell to his knees, the tears he had been fighting breaking free. This will kill me, he thought desperately.
~—~
[* Author's Note: I know this line may be upsetting from a mental health perspective. Please understand that this is not my opinion on mental illness - it's what I think Varric would say in this situation. ]