The Key To Your Heart

Anders knew he's been less than attentive to Hawke in the previous weeks, but he couldn't help but notice a change in her that he was sure was not all the product of his recent absenteeism. She looked tired. She smiled less and was more guarded. He worried she knew. Or worse that she didn't, and had just grown tired of his mood swings. The tension between them was so thick it smothered him. Something weighed heavy on her, Of that he was certain. Some secret she couldn't tell even him. There were a few times he could recall with ease that she was about to tell him something, just to scowl and walk away wordless. It frustraited him, but his stubborness wouldn't allow him to press the issue. He wassn't exactly the picture of honesty either, about which he felt particularly guilty.

He'd always internalized his feelings rather than expressing them outwardly the way Hawke did. If she was keeping something back, it would be very against her nature. Something Anders found unequvically frightening. The evening Merrill came to the Amell Estate for a visit had seemed to lift the emotional smog that had been choking them.

"For the makers sake, draw the curtains. Do you know what could happen if the Knight Commander's spies catch two apostates talking?"

Merrill eyed him dumbly, making a face that both answered his question and made him want to smack her.

"No...what?"

She'd responded in such an innocent tone he almost believed she had no idea. She really had no sense of self preservation. Anders anger peaked, his rebuke was venemous.

"No wonder the deamons found you such easy prey..."

The tiny elf stood for a moment dumbfounded before Anders words caught up with her. She shook her head, perhaps to hide the forming tears and stormed out of the estate in silence.

In a paranoid pique and more than a little aggravated Anders spent a few moments going over escape strategys in his head, should the worst come to pass. Hawkes approach was not careful, her steps dedicated. He assumed she'd come to defend Merrill and demand he apologize. He turned to speak quickly before she could make him backpedal.

"Her ignorence is what will bring the Templars down on us."

He struggled to keep his voice even. Determind that this time he would make her understand. Her smile disarmed him, making his insides reel. He was undone, wanting more than anything at that moment to reconcile everything that had gone so wrong between them. He was ready to reach for her, to lock her in his arms and declare his intentions. Consiquences be damned.

"Here. This might set your mind at ease."

That smile again. His breath hitched in his throat. Her eyes lit with excitement. She hesitantly reached out to hand him something, her tiny hands shaking around it. His confession moved to the back of his mind, where he comitted to keeping it. How could someone so strong look so fragile?

"What is it?"

He asked even as he accepted her gift, revealed to be a key. He felt stupid asking what it was when he should have asked what it was for. As he mentally berrated himself he noted the way she looked. It was stunning. Her skin was almost glowing, he could feel heat radiating from her body like she was smoldering just below the surface. After weeks of giving eachother the cold shoulder in that moment she changed. Like a phoenix risen and renewed.

"This key opens the cellars below the house here. You can get in from Darktown, if you ever need a quick escape."

That moment was very big for Anders. He rejoiced internally. "This! This is the escape plan I've needed. Should the Templars come looking, all that I love will be safe." That she knew him so well filled him with joy, and sorrow. If she knew he felt trapped without a word uttered then she must have a greater grasp of his secret plans. He'd thought of telling her, almost did once or twice but what if she hated him for it? Could he live with that? The alternative was worse, what if she didn't? What if she wanted to help? He couldn't, wouldn't put that on her. It was his burden to bear. In that thought he'd never felt more alone. There she was giving him everything he needed, and he was tainting it with selfish angst.

"It means more than I can say to have had a partner these past three years."

He smiled, suprised by how easily she brought it out of him. He promised silently then that no matter what he would give everything he had to preserve what he shared with Hawke. His revolution could wait a while longer. Hawke made him happier than he'd ever been. He wassn't ready to give that up. Butterflies stirred in his stomach, making him choke on his words. For that moment he allowed himself such wild hope, that after the dust of his revolution settled Hawke would still stand beside him.

"It makes me believe we can do anything."

Hawke was beaming at him. Pursing her lips in a way that made her look spoiled rotten and unbearably adorable. It was the face she made when she knew she was about to get her way. Her gaze speared him to the floor. Knowing before she spoke what direction her mood had taken. He could smell the sex on her. He couldn't think straight when the very presence of her intoxicated him.

"Merrills gone. Is this the best you can think to do?"

She lifted an eyebrow, as if he could say no. As if he'd want to. He moved toward her as she reached up to free his hair. The arc of her neck when she kissed him was beautiful. He held her gently, enjoying the way her skin felt under his sensitive fingertips. Her smell filled his nostrils. Wild flowers and freedom. Her lips tasted of sunshine and woodsmoke. She was warm in his arms. If ever a more perfect moment had passed, they were oblivious to it.

Anders wasted no more thoughts on secrets or plans or templars. The night belonged to Hawke.