Originally written for Lythlyra on Tumblr as a response to her prompt: When Nate realizes that Anders just might be flirting with him.
Days like today, when the sky was clear except for a few wisps of clouds impossibly higher than those that usually visited, were a blessing. Nathaniel always sought to take these to their full advantage, and walk the battlements to watch the sun set when he was at the Keep.
At first, he took these walks alone. But as time marched on, Nathaniel found himself more often than not accompanied by a certain mage. They never walked up together; Anders was always there first. Nathaniel wondered how he did it. He never seemed to have waited long.
Today was no different. Anders leaned against the stone, looking west as the sky reddened.
"Come to keep me company, Nathaniel? You shouldn't have."
"I thought you were teaching some of the servants how to make basic poultices today," Nathaniel said in way of greeting.
"Nah, gave them a chance to enjoy the day like me. There'll be plenty of time for it the next time it rains."
Nathaniel nodded, and found himself looking the mage over. It always impressed Nathaniel how immaculate Anders kept his appearance. This was difficult to do when they were traveling, and Mahariel always insisted that Anders accompany him on the missions, but he still managed to do better than most. It wasn't something that was unique to mages, at least Nathaniel didn't think so.
He wondered if it was to counter for the constant shadow on the mage's face that he seemed to never be rid of.
Nathaniel's attention did not go unnoticed.
"I heard a rumor today from one of the servants," Anders said, taking the attention as an invite for conversation, "one that I think you would be particularly interested in, Nathaniel."
"Oh really," he said, "what would that be?"
"Yes. It's about the Keep, and I was looking for some," he paused dramatically, "confirmation. From someone who has lived here for awhile."
"There are servants who have lived here longer than I have," Nathaniel said simply. That would be true even if he hadn't been squired in the Free Marches.
"Well, yes," Anders admitted, "but they aren't, well, you." The corner of the mage's lips quirked up in a crooked smile that gave Nathaniel pause. It had been a long time since he had seen Anders use that particular smile, and it hadn't been on him.
"They aren't me," he repeated slowly, and then narrowed his eyes. "I did not know you held my opinion in such high regard, Anders."
"That's me, full of surprises." He grinned.
There was something different about the way Anders held his body posture now. So often when they trained the new recruits or were out on a mission with their commander, Nathaniel would notice a tightness in Anders' shoulders that remained even when he would crack jokes with Oghren. It was a rare thing to see the mage so relaxed.
"So what is this rumor you heard?" Nathaniel asked, crossing his arms by instinct. He forced them to his sides shortly after,
"Well," Anders said, straightening up, "I heard that the reason the Howe scowl is so legendary is because the weather is often miserable here." He gestured to the beautiful evening sky. "When was the last time we've seen that? I lose count easily when it's grey all the time."
It had been a few weeks, at least.
"To blame my family's disposition on the weather alone would be folly," he said. "There is much more to it than that."
"So the rumor is true, then!" Nathaniel was about to voice a rebuke when Anders laughed. "All the more reason to pray for sunshine. The rain makes everything soggy anyways."
"I would rather be walking the battlements than inside because of the rain," Nathaniel admitted.
"So you're saying you'd rather be out here with me?" Anders said, grinning.
Nathaniel sighed and massaged his temple. He looked up and saw the mage's expression soften if but a little. "Wouldn't come up here if you weren't here."
"…thank you, Anders," Nathaniel said, and looked out towards the sunset. The comfortable silence between them was only broken by casual activity in the courtyard, but even from this distance it felt muted.
He wondered for a moment if maybe Anders was serious. And in the dying light of the evening sun, the mage looked… well, dashing wasn't the right word. Handsome, though, he wouldn't deny - but he wouldn't say that out loud.
It was something Nathaniel would have to think about.
