Hawke sat on the dusty, dirty floor, taking in her surroundings. His clothes, his parchments, his scent overwhelmed her. He was everywhere, only not there, and she took a moment to wonder how this had come to be.
When they met, they had both been running away. From a life of torment, sadness, unending pain that seemed to have no end. He was at the worst place he'd ever been, and she had just lost her family, her home, everything she had known. The light began to shine again in each others eyes when they started talking. They made each other feel alive, and in time, they were saved.
For years they remained together, rebuilding what both had lost. Their love was one to be envied of; the friends they had made together enjoyed being near them for the positive energy the two combined radiated. Visits from old friends always prompted the same response. "You've brought out the best in your partner - never let them go."
What happened to those days, those years, when a smile or a hug was enough to brighten the darkest of worlds? It changed, somewhere, though neither knew when. But a distance between them continued to grow, until they both stood on the opposite sides of a war in which neither one wanted to be a part of. The love wasn't enough to keep them together. Decisions had been made with no discussion, and the inevitable end had finally come to pass.
Now, as she sits within the ruins of their life together, Hawke can only feel the emptiness inside. She can only recall the look in his eye as he told her it was done, this was over, it had been a good ride, but there was no turning back. There would never again be peace.
And he was right. There is no peace here. No resolution to the war. There is only pain. A heart-wrenching burn that stirs within her and has her shedding tears she never thought she'd let fall again. Mourning his loss for the second time, as she had done when he first went away, even though he was still in her life. They had ignored the inevitable disaster between them and continued to remain within each others lives because that's all each had known since escaping their past.
There was nowhere left to run for her. She was left behind, told to pick up the pieces and move on. It was her own actions that drove him away for the final time. Her hand that placed the blade through his spine. She did this. She destroyed them, destroyed him, she had given up on him and now suffered for it. What right did she have to grieve for him when the twisting of the knife was by her own hand? The spirit within him could be blamed for his actions, but this was her doing and hers alone.
Sitting in his place, surrounded by the remains of his life, of the books and potions he'd been forced to leave behind, Hawke continued to wonder how it had come to this, and how she'd ever be able to move on again without him. Anders was her world, through the worst and best of times, and where he would have once held her and brought her back from this nightmare she was barely existing in, she now had to find a way to do it on her own.