A/N This is one of my first published fics... So I hope it's good and all... Anyway, feedback would be greatly appreciated as I have much room to improve in my writing! Thanks:) Oh, and I don't own Dragon Age.
'I'll let you decide what to do with your friend,' the words leave the First Enchanters lips coldly. His eyes shift between Hawke and Anders indifferently. 'I suspect that you know what to do.' Orsino adverts his gaze to the blade secured on Hawke's hip.
Hawke unknowingly runs her rough hand over the blade that had saved her life too many times. She breaks the uncomfortable eye contact with the First Enchanter and she looks at her blade, hating herself for even contemplating this option. For a moment she feels as if she's watching herself from a distance. Trinity Hawke wants to yell at herself. Tell herself to get her hand away from it.
The First Enchanter continues to stare. At Hawke and then at Anders. His eyes piercing Hawke, wanting her to make the right decision. This Mage was truly beyond help. There was only one way to save him now.
Hawke notices the presence of Orsino and breaks her prolonged stare. She looks up at him again. A small smirk forms on the elf's lips as he gives a nod. Exchanging one more look at Hawke's blade, he turns and walks out of the clearing. His hands folded behind his back as he does.
Hawke finds herself staring at that forbidden blade once again. Calling out to her with an imaginary singsong voice. She can feel her companions stares focused on her, waiting to see what she will do. Trinity can hear their unspoken opinions, reeling around in her head. Over and over again. She feels the pommel of her blade, and within seconds she pulls her hand away quickly and fiercely, as if it were on fire and had burnt her hand.
She finds herself approaching Anders. Her hand far from her blade. Behind her, her companions watch breathless. Still unsure of what Hawke will attempt or finish. The walk towards him feels like it's taking forever, like everything around her is moving in slow motion. In that sliver of time Hawke has she has a moment to think. Just think. She wouldn't be here if Anders hadn't just asked her for help... Or had just talked to her. Why hadn't he talked to her! She slowly feels her sorrow turn to something of anger. She was angry at the world. Angry at Kirkwall. Angry at Knight-Commander Meredith. Angry at everyone.
Soon enough she's standing behind Anders. Trinity's hand still far from her blade. Anders remains silent from where he sits, his back still facing her. His back is arched as he sits, twiddling his thumbs.
'Nothing I can say will make up for what I have done,' Anders begins. His head still down. 'And I do not regret my decisions. I'll accept my fate.' Anders voice remains at a monotone. Not wanting to make this any harder for his beloved than it should be.
'You're- You're not making a very good case for yourself.' Hawke attempts a feeble try at some sarcasm. Desperately trying to take her mind off what she might have to bring herself to do. Though it's obvious not how she is feeling.
'Love,' Anders says weakly. He had been refraining from calling her that, for fear that it would've affected her badly. 'Say what is on your mind. Please.'
Hawke stares at the back of Anders head. Trying to piece together something. Anything. All that she can think of is one word.
Why?
'Why did you do this?' Hawke asks simply, her eyes moving back down to her blade. Her hands still far away from the forsaken thing.
'I-' Anders sighs. 'I had to do this.'
He stops speaking and Hawke waits for a long moment, expecting him to say more, to explain himself. Yet, no words are spoken.
'No...' Hawke stutters, her mind reeling faster than her mouth. Different words trying to stumble out all at once. 'No. You didn't have to do this!' Hawke stares at her trembling hands. The sensation of anger again boiling inside of her. 'You didn't have to blow up the chantry! You didn't have to kill the Grand Cleric!' Without thinking much her hand flies towards the blade secured on her hip. Ripping it from her holster. Trinity draws the blade close to Anders.
Anders can sense it. The nearness of the sharp blade. The anger inside of Hawke. Deep inside him he feels Justice stirring, the instinct to protect himself honing in. But Anders ignore this feeling, knowing that no matter what Hawke would do here today... He wouldn't allow himself to hurt her. Not anymore than he had.
Within seconds she snaps back into sees the blade in her hand. She sees how close it is to Anders. Her hand is trembling almost terribly now. She pulls the blade farther away from the Mage in front of her.
'Why.. Why didn't you tell me?' Hawke grips the blade tightly in her hand, her knuckles turn white as she holds it firmly at her side.
Anders now stands, placing his staff on the ground, he turns. He stares at Hawke with nothing but sorrow in his big brown eyes. His face is solemn as he looks down at Hawke. He glances at the blade in her hand, and her trembling form. Anders wishes nothing but to draw the girl he loved into a hug. But he can't. He may be that far gone.
'I... was afraid,' he begins. Looking anywhere but Hawke's sharp blue eyes. 'What if you were going to stop me? Or worse... What if you wanted to help me?'
Hawke stands silently. She has nothing to say, seeing that she still could not decide what she would have done if he had told her.
She wanted to think that she would have tried to stop him. To try and come up with a new idea. Something else that maybe wasn't as treacherous.
Yet. Deep down inside. She feels as if she would've helped him. Because that's what you do for the people you love. In fact, that's what she had been doing for almost her whole life. She helped Carver, Bethany, Mother, Aveline, Varric, all of her friends. She would've done the same for Anders.
Anders reaches his hand forward hesitantly when he doesn't get a response. Hawke doesn't flinch when he places his hand on her cheek.
'I didn't want my foolish decisions to affect to you,' Anders says softly as he eyes Hawke's blade. He conforms a goodbye in his head, figuring that he didn't have much time left. This was his fault. He wanted to die. 'I... I didn't want to break your heart,' he says barely above a whisper. His hand moving down towards Hawke's hand. Towards the blade. 'I... I love you.'
Hawke immediately can sense what he is doing as she feels him take her hand with the blade. She looks up and him and he nods slowly. She closes her eyes slowly. She can feel her mind trailing back. Back to that first moment with him.
'And what exactly are you doing?'' Hawke asks as she walks up behind Anders, who looked to be placing a bowl of... milk... on the ground. She smiles as she watches him.
'Putting out milk,' he says simply as he stands up to face her, a bright smile on his face. 'I really miss have a cat around... Though I think the refugees have scared them all off... Or perhaps eaten them.' Anders stands silently for a moment, racking through his brain for something to say. 'I've been meaning to thank you, actually. Having someone like you making your name for yourself in Kirkwall... Well it's done a lot for Mages. You're the kind of leader we need.'
Hawke laughs at first. The slowly realizes that Anders was being serious. Her? Helping the Mages lead a rebellion? It sounded absurd. Utterly absurd. Sure, she was a Mage... But would she really be fit for the role of a leader?
'To tell the world that we shouldn't be punished for our Maker given gifts,' Anders continues. His eyes looking into her own.
Hawke feels her face grow red as he looks at her.
'I'm... not doing it for the politics,' she confesses as she continues to watch him. 'I just wouldn't want to see the Templars lock you up.' She looks at the ground, a smudge embarrassed. Should she have said that?
Anders facial expression shifts, to something of confusion. Was he confused about.. her? They stand for a second, exchanging looks.
'I've tried to hold back,' Anders finally speaks, his brow furrowed as he spits out words. 'You saw what I almost did to that girl... Maker... I almost killed her.' He looks away for a moment. Hurt. 'You've seen what I am...' He was referring to Justice. The spirit he had encountered. The spirit that had shifted into one of vengeance.
Hawke can see it now. Anders coming up with a rather reasonable excuse not to be with her... Then that would be that.
'But I'm still a man,' Anders says looking at her. Hawke's eyes trail back up to his eyes. 'You can't keep teasing me... And expect me to resist forever.'
Hawle can feel her heart beating a million miles and hour as he kept looking at her. She searched her brain. Looking for anything that she could say.
The only thing she can think of is something humorous... How she has always dealt with her debacles in the past.
'How long will it take before I drive you mad?' she grins as she wait for his response, hoping that it wasn't too much... nor too little. It was a good safe spot.
And in that next moment she saw Anders come closer to her. She felt his hands grabbing her midsection and his soft lips on hers. Kissing her hungrily, yet gently. Before Hawke can react. He's gone, standing farther away from her.
What if he regretted it? What if he was about to tell her that this would'nt work.
'This is a disaster,' he begins and Hawke can see it coming. 'But I can't live without it.'
Hawke looks surprised and surely a bit flustered as she stares at him.
'We could die tomorrow... But not before I tell you how I feel.'
Hawke opens her eyes suddenly. Anders hand creeping closer to Hawke's blade. In an instant she knows that this is not what she wants. She knows that this was never what she wanted. Hawke pulls herself away from Anders quickly, the blade gripped in her hand fiercely.
'I... I can't...' Hawke stutters, now staring at the blade like it's a demon. Scaring her in ways she can't explain.
'You don't have too, love.' Anders holds his hand out, his eyes soft and forgiving. Unspoken words passing through their glances. 'Let me.'
Everything in Anders head is telling him not to do this. Not to take the blade from her. Justice's thoughts are the loudest of them all. Yet, Anders ignores him. He refused to let him take control of Anders life.
'No,' Hawke says softly, not attempting to move or rid of the blade. She just stares at Anders. The same stubborn look on her face. One that was utterly familiar.
Anders creeps forward slowly, his hand still out outstretched. Hawke looks up at him. Anders facial expression was painstakingly familiar. The same face he had made that day. The day they kissed. He reaches her within seconds, once again trying to ease the blade from her grip. Though Hawke keeps an iron grip on it, refusing to hand it over to Anders. She doesn't say a word. She just looks up at him.
'Hawke...' he says with a gentle voice.
'No,' Hawke states again, louder than before. 'I'm not letting you do this.'
She pulls the blade away from him. Anders watches her, having no clue what her next move would be. He feared the worse really, and he wasn't sure why. Hawke simply turns away from, the blade still in her grip. She draws her hand back, then throws the blade across the courtyard. It arcs through the air and lands a ways away. Making a muffled clank as it does.
'Hawke,' Anders says again, more sternly. His brow furrowing as he looks at her.
'This is what you wanted, Anders,' Hawke explains, looking into his brown eyes. 'And I'm not helping free the Mages without you.'
Before Anders has a chance to even think of a argument Hawke wraps her arms around him and buries her head in his chest. Anders slowly wraps his arms around her and plants a kiss on her forehead.
'I love you,' Hawke whispers as she looks up into his brown eyes before pulling away from him. 'Now let's go kill some Templars.'
Hawke retrieves Anders staff off the ground and holds it out to him. Anders smiles, then takes it from her hands.