After Adamant

Anders hardly slept anymore. Since Hawke was called away by Varric, it was a challenge to lay himself down and dream. His mind was always churning through a never-yielding cycle of terrible thoughts.

What if Hawke met someone else while she was gone? What if she was arrested by the Chantry? What if she was interrogated to find his location?

What if she died?

What then? Was Anders to go on through life without her? Could he kill himself to end his miserable existence? Would Justice allow it?

Tonight, he got into bed later than usual. He buried his face in Hawke's pillow. The trace scent that managed to linger these last few months was soothing. It helped quiet his mind.

Anders closed his eyes and remembered the day Hawke left. They had said goodbye as the sun first broke the night's darkness.

"Be careful," he had pleaded. There was no use in convincing her not to go, no use insisting he go along. Not to face Corypheus with the faint Calling in his veins. Not to stand beside templars.

"Of course," she had replied, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'll have Varric and Cullen to watch my back."

Justice, or maybe it was Anders, bristled at the mention of the former knight-captain of Kirkwall.

"He isn't a templar anymore, love," she had chided, "and he helped fight Meredith."

Pushing Justice aside, Anders had pulled her into his arms. "What am I going to do without you?" he had asked.

"Feed Pounce and Dash," she had said, not exactly responding to the question. "I'll send a message whenever I can."

"I mean it, Hawke. Come back" Anders had winced and cleared his throat after his voice cracked.

"As soon as I can." She had gazed up at him, all levity drained from her features. "I love you."

"I love you, too," said Anders, his entire heart behind those words.

She had kissed him, long and slow, before he let her walk down the hedge-lined path into the village.

Their small house seemed even smaller now that Hawke was gone. Dash had stared at Anders with a longing so acute, the mabari had received a cuddle.

Since Hawke left, the hound had scarcely left Anders alone for a heartbeat. Now, Dash whined at the foot of the bed.

Anders raised his head. He hated dogs, but Hawke's mabari and Pounce, the grey tabby, got on well enough that Anders had decided the dog was okay. The company since Hawke's departure had been greatly appreciated.

Dash climbed slowly onto the bed and pressed his bulky frame against the mage's. He was not allowed on the bed, had never fussed about the rule and never broken it before. The hound knew that rule. Yet here he was. He whined again and licked Anders's hand.

Anders felt a fresh stab of loneliness. He allowed Dash to stay leaned up against him.

"Is she coming home soon, boy?" he asked.

Dash laid his head on his massive paws and sighed.

Anders rubbed the mabari's ears. The action was calming and lulled hound and man alike to sleep.

And the man dreamed.

"Anders."

His attention snapped back. Right, dreaming. Dreaming of... fingers in his hair, combing and smoothing. It felt good. "Yes, love?"

They had shared dreams before, with Justice's help.

Hawke, clad in her armour and drenched in black ichor, looked exhausted. She, for the first time since she stalked into his Darktown clinic all those years ago, seemed at a loss for words.

"The siege of Adamant?" prompted Anders. "What happened?"

Slowly, haltingly, the story of Erimond and Clarel and blood magic came out. It was a story of physically falling into the Fade through a rift the Inquisitor accidentally opened. It was a story that involved a Nightmare and, at last, a terrible choice that ended in sacrifice.

"Anders, I..." She couldn't meet his gaze. "I killed the Nightmare. Varric and the Inquisitor, Alistair, Blackwall and an elf, they all got through to the waking world."

"No." He reached out, his hand passing through her face. "No, Maker damn it, no!"

Hawke closed her eyes, shining tears escaping. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You had to come back," said Anders, his mouth dry. "You said you would. I... Don't leave me here without you."

It was like something inside him broke. It hurt, everything hurt. His throat went rough and he had to swallow hard.

Her eyes opened again and her hand went into his chest. It didn't feel like anything. "I wanted to."

Anders wanted to gather her up and fold her into his arms. He wanted this to be a joke. He wanted to go with her. "Don't leave me here without you," he begged.

"Anders," her face was wet with tears now, "what about Pounce and Dash? You can't abandon them."

"You can't abandon me!" shouted Anders. "But you're saying you will. The dog can take care of himself."

Hawke didn't flinch when his voice rose. "You have to carry on."

"Why?" he demanded. "Why do I have to? All I do is feed the cat and let the dog in at night. Dash is fifteen years old, in the last month his muzzle turned white. What am I going to do in our house by myself?"

"Anders –"

He didn't let her speak. "We were supposed to stay together, or were those just words to you? Maker be damned, I'm coming with you."

Hawke stared at Anders, her bright blue eyes filled with a pain that cut straight down into his core.

Anger burning out, he put his hand in hers and felt her fingers again. "You made your decision," he said tenderly, looking down at their hands. "Now I've made mine."

"And Justice – ?"

"Can handle Dash," said Anders. He kissed her black hair. "Let's see what happens next."

Hawke pressed her lips to the back of his hand and started walking.

They walked hand in hand out of life and out of the Fade, into whatever waited.

They faced it together. Like she promised.