Prompt #10: Lies

f!Hawke / Anders. Safe for work. Post-Legacy, but no spoilers for the dlc itself.


Hawke was sitting at her desk, slowly reading and re-reading her journal entries for the past month. They were filled with accounts of Varric's storytelling, evenings chatting with Isabella at the Hanged Man, and, more recently, a distressing chain of events. Mainly battles. Was battles a good word for that? Skirmish? Or simply "fights"? She supposed it didn't really matter. They were violent encounters. And while she trusted her companions and their ability to fight well, and how proud she was to fight with them, she did not revel in it.

That, however, was not important.

Her hand shook as she picked up her quill pen and brought it to the inkwell sitting next to the blotter. She dipped it in the ink. She put the tip to paper, but dark, angry blots of ink dropped and stained it. Swearing quietly to herself, she put the quill down and reached for the fine sand that would soak up the ink. In the process, her hand bumped the inkwell and knocked it over. Black ink spilled across the desk and the floor as it scooted off the edge.

"Love?"

His voice came from the doorway behind her. Hawke jerked around and looked at him, startled. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Grabbing a sheaf of loose paper, she scattered them over the ink. Hopefully that would keep it from spreading too badly.

"What happened? Here, let me help."

Before she could respond, Anders went over to her and waved a hand, freezing the ink on the desk and on the floor. Hawke stared at it and frowned. "How am I supposed to clean it up now?"

Anders blinked. "Oh, well..."

Hawke turned away. She felt a burning tightness in her chest that she couldn't suppress. Pushing her chair back, she stood up and began walking towards the doorway.

"Hawke," he said, hesitation in his voice.

Hawke stopped halfway there. "I don't know what to say to you right now, Anders," she admitted.

Anders walked up behind her and reached out to touch her on the shoulder. She pulled away. "I... I didn't lie to you, love. I'm sorry."

"A lie of omission is still a lie," she snapped, whirling around.

"You never asked."

"Well of course I'm not going to know to ask that sort of question! 'My love, with your Warden taint, are you going to die early?'" She inhaled deeply. "How could I have thought of that?"

Anders's face clouded, and he looked away. Hawke could see tension in his expression. A crease between his brows. Should she relent? Should she take it easy on him?

He whispered something. She barely heard it. "What?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, more loudly, though not by much. "I've... tried to forget these things. Most of the time, I don't think about it. I just can't. This taint inside of me, I can't change it. I can't get rid of it any more than I can get rid of Justice." He approached her again, and this time she did not retreat from him. "I'm so sorry."

Hawke said nothing.

"Your cousin... she..."

"The Warden Commander is not close enough for me to call her a cousin."

Anders swallowed. "If I could change anything..."

"Anders, don't." Hawke frowned.

He shook his head. "She saved me from the templars, love, when she recruited me into the Wardens. I wouldn't change that. They would have executed me for sure."

Hawke blinked. "They—what?"

Anders closed the gap between them by enfolding her in an embrace. After a moment she put her arms around him in return. His smell, the smell of his neck and of his coat with its feathers, was a comfort to her. She tightened her grip and squeezed her arms tight.

"You said you didn't want to leave me," she murmured. "But you're going to."

"Every moment with you is precious," Anders said into her hair. "Please believe me. You are the most important thing in my life."

Hawke drew back from him just enough to tilt her head and press her lips to his. He put a hand to her face and cupped her cheek, returning the kiss tenderly. She had to take what she could get from him. He did warn her. He warned her that being together would not be easy. This was just something that she would have wished she had known. It wouldn't have affected her decision to be with him, but it would have been nice... to just know.

But if it wouldn't have changed anything... Did it matter that he had kept something so painful to himself?

Maybe she should be thankful, at least, that had saved him. Saved him to come here, to Kirkwall, to do all the good he was doing for the city. For the refugees.

She kissed him more deeply, sighing softly into his mouth. He seemed startled, but he was certainly not complaining. She pulled him closer.

"I'm glad," she said, the corner of her mouth quirking upward. She reached up to run her fingers through her hair, tugging it loose from its bonds. "Can we enjoy it to the fullest?"

He smiled widely, and his eyes sparkled with happiness and affection. "I plan to," he said.

They kissed.