urk
it is my headcanon that friendship!hawke and anders have the cutest relationship ok
Sometimes, when it's dark and quiet and Hightown is asleep, Anders and I will talk.
We'll lie next to each other, staring up at the red canopy of my bed. The hearth had long since dimmed and a cold has settled upon the room, but we forsake warmth and lie on top of the duvet, inviting goosebumps to our bare skin. The only parts of us touching the other will be out intertwined fingers.
"Why me?" he'll ask, and his voice is always a raspy whisper, as if afraid to break the silence that had been filled with our heavy breaths.
"Why not?" I'll reply, barely louder. Mother is near deaf in her sleep and both Bodhan and Sandal slept like logs.
"You're a noble. You're wealthy, beautiful. You could have any man or woman you wanted. I'm just an abomination hiding from templars in a dirty clinic, bound to break your heart. Why me?"
It's an argument we've had many times.
"Because," I say, and even I can hear the fondness coloring my voice. I roll over on my side to face him, and he turns his head towards me. "You're kind. You help all those refugees without asking a single copper in return. You'll tell me when I'm being unreasonable, but you'll follow me anyway. And you put up with Dane, even if you are a cat person."
I can hear him chuckle at that- a low, breathy sound- and I can almost make out his face in the light streaming in my window. I can almost see all the lines and wrinkles and rough, raw edges in his face. It's not a perfect face, but he's not a perfect man, and it suits him. I reach out with my free hand to brush an uneven lock of hair from his eyes, pale blonde bathed silver by the moon light.
My hand slides down to caress his cheek, thumb gently smoothing out the lines by his eye. He takes a breath.
"Marian," he begins, but pauses.
I smile. "Anders," I tease.
He snorts at that, amused, and nuzzles my hand. "I love you," he says, voice muffled.
I lean forward, aiming to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, but he moves, and it lands on his eye instead. For several moments I am stuck apologizing, and then we both try to stifle our laughter.
It isn't until later, when I'm tucked neatly under his chin and ready to fall asleep, do I answer. "I love you, too."