Anders wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but when he opened his eyes he found Hawke crouching in front of him. "Andraste's flaming knickers!" he hissed with a jump, banging his head against the tree. Worry that she heard something sank in quickly, so he closed his eyes and he scanned again, but found nothing. He slowly opened his eyes but she hadn't moved, was still crouching in front of him, watching. "I don't sense any darkspawn..." He wasn't sure what she wanted, hoping another slap wasn't it but he braced himself regardless. She just continued staring at him, and he began to squirm under her scrutiny. He jumped again when she finally spoke.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you, I understand you were just trying to protect Bethany."
"Not just her," he said softly.
She stood, looking down on him, no longer the dainty woman he use to hold in his arms, but a strong warrior, a match for any foe, the slayer of the Arishok, high dragons, blood mages and Lyrium crazed Knight-Commanders. "I don't need your protection."
She walked off into the trees. Bethany was still asleep and if the dog was awake it wasn't letting on. That dog was growing on him. Anders rubbed his head where he had whacked it against the tree, before springing to his feet and stalking after her. When she was within earshot of a harsh whisper "Of course you don't need me, the mighty Champion of Kirkwall doesn't need anyone does she?" She stopped dead in her tracks and turned on him. He jumped back to avoid any flying objects, but nothing came at him. Recovering, he asked, "This of course begs the question, why am I still here?"
"I said I didn't need your protection." she hissed back at him.
"Then what do you need of me?"
She had no immediate response, but searched his face, perhaps trying to find the answer herself. Her expression softened, "I need Anders, not...not whatever it is you have become. I need to know he is safe."
Her answer took him aback, "I am Anders."
"No," she shook her head in denial, "you're not." And she left him standing alone again.
He stood alone in the dark forest a long time, thinking about what she had said. Everyone had time to think about the events that transpired back in Kirkwall during their silent flight. She hadn't been totally wrong, Justice's threat of appearance while he stood in front of the Knight-Commander in a square surrounded by Templars only proved how far lost he had become, and the following destruction of the chantry with Grand Cleric within sealed his fate as an abomination forever.
'I am no demon, there for you are not an abomination.'
'A spirit of Vengeance is a demon.'
'I am Justice.'
'That was not justice, we out right murdered innocents. You are no longer Justice, just as I am no longer Anders.'
'The woman's outright refusal to right a wrong justifies our actions.'
'What a perfect solution, we should just kill everyone.'
'If that's what it would take, so be it.'
'Listen to yourself! You would see everyone dead, even mages if they believe the Chantry is right. We almost killed a mage because you could not tell the difference in our rage against the Templars. If Hawke hadn't stopped me..." Anders didn't want to think about it anymore. Justice receded, knowing Anders was at least right on this last account.
He breathed in the thick, humid night air; a thin fog covered the forest floor, shimmering in the light of the full moon. There was a sound moving water nearby and decided to make his way to it, thinking a good rinse would help clear his mind. The water had been a bit further than he thought, the silence of the night carrying the sound to him. As soon as he was in range of the creek he stopped cold in his tracks, he hadn't been the only one drawn to the sound. She was there; finally shed of the armor she bore for near a week. He tried to turn away, but couldn't. The linen of her undergarments clung to her damp skin. He had always wondered how someone always clad in cold, heavy plate and muscles rippling in battle could be so warm and soft under his hands. He could still feel the heat of her skin against his palms, the rise and fall of her body as her breath quickened at his touch. When he finally was able to wrench his gaze away from her, he was breathing heavily. He turned to retreat back towards camp, head down, crushed. Anders hadn't made it a few steps when something whizzed by his head, landing squarely in the tree directly in front of him. A dagger, her dagger. He turned shocked, but stammering his apology, "I'm... sorry... I didn't..." She was still standing by the stream, linen clinging to her splendid body. All words ceased to form in his brain. He tore his eyes away, gaze landing back on the dagger, "Now who's crazy?"
She just stood there, not saying anything. They both knew had she been aiming for him she wouldn't have missed. A trick Isabela had taught her no doubt, but he dared not look at her again, didn't have to look at her to have the image of them in his mind. He closed his eyes tight in frustration, trying to force the scene out of his mind, but of course it didn't work. He couldn't take it anymore, and he turned to leave again. "What, was that too subtle?" She called after him.
He stopped, but didn't turn, "What do you want from me? I didn't know you were here. I saw you and knew watching you, wanting you, was wrong. I tried to leave, am trying to leave, but you keep stopping me."
"Come back to me, Anders." Her voice was husky, a plea.
"Don't. Please, just stop. I can't stand to see you turn from me anymore. To see the pain in your eyes. To know I have finally become a monster, feared and hated by all, even to the one person I truly love."
She thought he heard her breath catch, but maybe it was just his, he was having a hard time breathing at the moment. "Come back to me, Anders."
This had to be some nightmare of the Fade, some desire demon to torture him, but he knew that couldn't be true, Justice was in control in the Fade and they both know a demon when one is present. Maybe he had just hit his head harder than he had thought. A battered heart expressed through his sagging shoulders and head, he still made no move to turn back to her. "Anders?"
He shook his head; he couldn't deny her any longer. Squaring his shoulders, Anders' gaze strayed back to the dagger. Reaching up, he retrieved it and turned back towards her. His steps were steady, his eyes never wavering from her face, but he couldn't read her expression and hoped the longing for her wasn't showing in his. He grabbed her right hand wrapping it around the hilt of the blade, his own hand over hers, point to his heart, Justice prickled to awareness. He pleaded with her hastily, "Please, kill me now. I am not strong enough to fight the both of you. You are the only person who can pull me back from his anger, if you cannot stand beside me, spare me and everyone else from this torment." He tried to force her hand but it would not be moved, "Please, do it now... before he comes..." he begged resting his forehead on hers, tears slipping down his cheeks. She moved and he braced himself for the coming stab, Justice struggling to come out, but instead of cold steel ripping through his flesh he felt her soft lips on his. He was paralyzed for a moment, his body tense. All of his focus was on keeping Justice from taking over, but the spirit receded immediately at the sign of affection. She had been about to pull away, probably dismayed by his initial reaction, but he raised his hands to rest alongside her graceful neck, running his thumb across her smooth cheek, kissing her back hungrily. The dagger dropped to the ground and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. He finally broke away to look at her beautiful face, caressing her check. When she opened her eyes to look back at him, his heart slammed into his throat and he swallowed hard to force it back down. He hadn't thought this would ever be possible again, having her in his arms. This last year he had kept turning her away, knowing his coming betrayal would only be more damning if continued to make love to her. Her pained expressions had broken his heart, knowing she didn't understand why he kept pushing, but he couldn't bear leaving her completely. Justice seemed to agree, probably knowing if Anders had left none of this would have happened, too heartbroken to carry through with it and running back to her. The last night as they were leaving the estate for the Gallows he had pulled her to him and kissed her, a selfish act, but she had returned the kiss passionately. It took every ounce of self control to break the kiss and the look she gave him after was hopeful, thinking they had finally gotten past whatever this was between them. He didn't say anything and walked out the door. He thought that was their last kiss, he honestly never thought he would leave Kirkwall alive. How had he allowed himself to risk losing this for anything? But he also knew he was the last person in Thedas, mage or otherwise, to be allowed this right now.
He bent to kiss her again, softly this time, his right hand slid across her shoulder and down to the small of her back inducing a shiver from her and drew her closer, her body always fit so easily against his. Her hands moved between them, and up his chest. 'No, don't push me away, please', he silently pleaded. He kissed her more desperately, trying to savor every last second. Her hands did not push, but expertly started to unfasten the buckles of his robes. His breathe caught in this chest, before finally escaping in a soft groan, he's body aching with need trapped within for near a year. After the last closure was released he relinquished his hold on her so the robes could be pushed away. They stood together in their flimsy smallclothes, fervently kissing each other. He waited for her to make the next move, not waiting to rush her, but craving it. Hands clutched in the linen, he silently implored her not to stop. She must have sensed his request, because she tugged off his shirt, placing a light kiss on the chest she had bared. Her hands moved across his chest, and around to his back. She gently raked her nails down, and across his hips. His eyes closed, Maker, he loved when she did that, and he moaned. There was a pause, but he wasn't sure if she was teasing him like old times, or just unsure of if she wanted to continue. The pause was longer than he was use to and he stole a glance at her. She seemed frozen and distant. His heart sank, and he crushed her to him, kissing her forehead hard. She was completely rigid, so he just held her to him, and gently rocked her.
The heat of their bodies promised to incinerate him, but she was still unmoving. He kissed her lips, but there wasn't a response of any kind. He tilted her face up to look her directly in the eyes. Something was terribly wrong; she just kept staring off in the distance, almost through him as if he wasn't even there. He wrapped his arms around her again, his panic growing. His eyes moved to the stream behind her, and a thought crossed his mind that the cool water could bring her back around. He bent down and scooped her up, holding her close to his chest, and she did not resist in anyway, it was like she wasn't there either. Anders carried her to the water, and knelt down placing her in a shallow pool. He was on his knees beside her, with her propped up against his chest and he scooped water in his hands, gently caressing her. "Sweetheart?" He kissed her forehead, and brought a scoop of water to her face and wiped it across her forehead and right cheek. "Come on, sweetheart." It was like she had went into shock of some kind, but he didn't know why. He could heal any type of battle wound, burns, lacerations, anything damaged in a physical sense, but this was beyond his realm of healing. He shook her gently as if trying to rouse her from sleep, but it didn't help. He pulled her back to his chest, and rocked her some more. He wanted to cry, but he knew losing it himself wouldn't help at the moment, and just kept trying to bring her back around, talking to her, kissing her face and lips, but to no avail. He finally decided the water wasn't working, and picked her up in his arms again taking her back to the bank. "Maker, please, she doesn't deserve this, punish me!" He shouted to the Heavens. He had done this, and there was never going to be a way to fix it. Luckily the night was warm, so he sat down drawing her up in his lap, hugged to his chest and waited.