Chapter 4
Loss
The next time he heard anything about Garret Hawke it was purely by accident. He was shopping for elfroot in the Alienage, the only place to get the herb at its freshest, when a melodious voice floated to his ears.
"Oh Hawke will be pleased then wont he?" the girlish voice said happily, her accent distinctly Dalish if Anders wasn't mistaken, "He's been working so hard for this."
"Tell me about it Daisy," Anders recognised Varric's voice and wished he could make himself invisible, "he can hardly sit still."
He'd done so well in avoiding everyone and that included the dwarf. It wasn't that he necessarily wanted to, he liked Varric a lot, it was just that if he spent time with him he would eventually run into Hawke and that was what he needed to steer clear of. He paid the young elven woman at the stall and stuffed the paper wrapped pack of herbs into his pouch before turning to walk quickly towards the stairs back to the market.
"Hey! Blondie, that you?"
Not quickly enough it seemed. Anders cursed his luck and took a breath, turning around with a forced smile to see Varric with a slim, dark haired elven girl at his side, watching him intently.
"Varric," Anders said, "fancy meeting you here."
"Well, imagine seeing you out in the daylight!" Varric said with obvious rebuke, "Don't you melt or something?"
"Ha ha," Anders said tonelessly, "I've been busy if that's what you're getting at."
"For nearly a month?" Varric asked questioningly, making Anders blanch at how long it had actually been, "What have you been doing, digging a tunnel into the Gallows?"
"Oh no, now you know my plan," Anders said, deadpan, with a roll of his eyes, "I'll have to kill you."
"Oh a secret plan," the girl suddenly piped up, her eyes wide with delight, "that sounds awfully exciting!"
"He was only joking Daisy," Varric said, shaking his head, "it's one of the few things he's good at."
"Thanks Varric, just endear me to the people I haven't even met yet, why don't you?" he looked back to the girl, who looked a little disappointed at the prospect of there not being a secret tunnel into the Gallows, "nice to meet you, I'm Anders."
"I'm Merrill," she said, bouncing on her feet, "Oh! You're Anders! It's so nice to meet another mage! Oh wait, I shouldn't really be shouting that out loud should I? Sorry, I'm not really used to this whole apostate thing, or the introducing thing, and having so many people about listening all the time, only they don't really seem to pay any attention to me anyway and, oh, I'm rambling aren't I? I'll shut up now."
Anders stared at her as she giggled nervously. Was it possible for anyone to be cuter? Anders didn't think so. Where did Hawke find all these seemingly disparate people?
"That's alright," Anders said, finding her smile infectious, "as long as you don't go yelling it around any templars I think I'll be fine."
"I'll remember that," Merrill said sagely, nodding, "no templar yelling, I can do that."
"Don't wind her up," Varric said with a laugh, "she has no sense of irony or sarcasm yet, she takes everything literally."
"I do not," Merrill said, sounding slightly offended, before pausing and looking as if she was thinking hard, "or do I? What is irony, exactly?"
"You're a hopeless case," Varric said, earning him a swat on the shoulder from Merrill, before he turned back to Anders, "anyway, Hawke's been looking for you."
I'll bet, Anders thought ruefully. Considering the last thing Hawke had asked him was 'see you soon?' and Anders had managed to avoid him long enough for him to make another new friend that Anders didn't even know about, he had been sure Hawke had given up on him by now. Instead it looked like he'd just become very, very good at avoiding the things he couldn't have, like Hawke and alcohol.
"Has he," Anders said, not as a question.
"You should know," Varric said cryptically, his eyes glinting a little, "anyway, Hanged Man at nine, my suite."
"I can't," Anders said automatically, finding himself without an excuse to back it up; he floundered.
"Of course you can't," Varric said sarcastically, shaking his head, "look Blondie, just try and be on time alright? Tonight's a big night and I don't think you'd forgive yourself if you missed it."
Could that have sounded any more ominous? Anders thought. He sighed and nodded to Varric, putting his hand on his hip. He couldn't keep it up forever he supposed, but having left it this long only made it worse now. This wasn't going to be fun.
"Nine?" he said.
"Nine," Varric confirmed with a satisfied smile, "see you there."
"Oh this is so exhilarating!" Merrill said, clapping her hands together, "I've never had alcohol before, will I get drunk?"
"And if it's up to me you won't ever get any," Anders heard Varric say as he took the opportunity to slip away, "you're hyper enough as it is."
"Oh don't be such a spoil sport," he heard Merrill reply huffily.
The Lowtown streets were oddly quiet as Anders made his way to the Hanged Man. It was a clear night, the stars shining where the lingering smoke from the foundries didn't obscure them, but that only made it bitterly cold. Anders would be glad for the warmth of the tavern, one of the few things he'd be happy for about the tavern. He tried again to think of an appropriate lie to tell to cover his absence but, as with all his other attempts, he couldn't come up with anything convincing. He'd have to think of something, he could hardly tell him the truth. The door to the Hanged Man appeared too quickly for his liking and Anders steeled himself before walking inside.
He'd never seen the place so crowded. No wonder he hadn't encountered anyone out on the street, Anders thought, they were all in here getting drunk. There were a group of rowdy off duty guards at the tables by the bar, all laughing and stumbling about, sloshing alcohol over the tables and the floor and telling crude jokes. The other tables held the usual patrons who were giving the guards dirty looks, probably for disturbing their usually quiet evening. The bar itself was no exception; it was swamped, probably, Anders thought, as there was an exotically beautiful woman in terribly revealing clothing standing there. Her face rang a bell in his mind but he couldn't quite place it. She was surrounded by a host of googly eyed men, all desperate to buy her a drink. She looked over and caught his eye as he stared, giving him a quick wink from across the bar which, for some reason he couldn't fathom, made his cheeks flush. Anders quickly made his way through the riot towards Varric's suite. Was it possible for someone to have bedroom eyes more than her? he thought.
It turned out that it was, apparently, and he was seeing them right now on the person he least wanted to see them on. Fenris and Hawke were seated at Varric's table, alone with cards strewn between them, the elf's eyes fixed on the man across from him very attentively.
"That's not fair," Hawke was complaining, looking at his cards suspiciously as the elf downed the rest of his drink, "no one beats me four times in a row. You're cheating aren't you?"
"Don't be a sore loser Hawke," the elf shrugged and let out a rare smile, "it doesn't suit you."
"Oh, don't push it," Hawke said with a wry smile of his own, "or you'll force me to teach you a lesson you won't forget."
"Promises, promises," Fenris replied, standing up gracefully, "I take it you want another..?"
He stopped short on seeing Anders in the doorway, his face momentarily showing surprise before his eyes went hard. Hawke saw his reaction and turned in his seat to look at the doorway, his face a picture of astonishment. Anders took one look at those green eyes and wondered just how he'd managed to stay away for so long. Hawke sat back in his chair and grinned.
"Anders!" he said, standing and walking over to the mage as he removed his staff and lent it against the wall.
"I'm going to get another drink," Fenris said darkly before walking down the stairs, looking distinctly put out by Anders sudden appearance.
"What in the blazes are you doing here? I thought you'd left town or something!" Hawke said grinning, "Where on earth have you been, I've been trying to reach you."
"Oh, well..." Anders realised he still hadn't come up with a convincing reason for his absence and faltered, "...uh, Varric said you were looking for me."
Nice, Anders thought, that was the least subtle evasion I've ever heard. He watched Hawke hesitate, as if he wanted to push the issue, before he closed his mouth and simply offered Anders a seat. The mage took it gratefully, glad that he wasn't going to have to lie per se, just ignore the problem. Much easier.
"I hope Varric hasn't just invited me for another night of drunken revelry," Anders said raising his eyebrows and indicating the cards on the table.
"Not quite," Hawke said, returning to his seat beside Anders, looking at him as if he still couldn't believe he was actually sitting there, "well, damn...a lot has happened since I saw you last, I'm not quite sure where to start."
Anders watched him, hating how much he enjoyed simply talking to the man before him. Pathetic, Anders thought self-deprecatingly, you really are you know, is this all you need to make you happy?
"I met Merrill today," he said, just for something to say.
"You did?" Hawke blinked.
"I was at the alienage, Varric introduced us," Anders explained, "she seems nice."
"Doesn't she though," Hawke said with an odd look in his eye, as if he hadn't made up his mind about Merrill yet, "she's an odd package, that's for sure."
"What do you mean?" Anders asked, confused.
"Nothing, that doesn't matter," Hawke said, looking excited, "so did Varric not tell you about tonight?"
"No details," Anders said, watching Hawke warily.
"I'm surprised the little bugger could keep his mouth shut, he's just as thrilled as I am," Hawke laughed, "we've raised more than enough coin for the expedition. I've been out getting kit ready all day and bagging up supplies. I'm actually surprised that I'm awake right now considering; I'm shattered."
"That's great," Anders said, trying to sound genuine.
Personally the thought of the expedition had always filled him with trepidation. The thought of Hawke going anywhere the Deep Roads was not top of his list for things he wanted to happen in the near future. Or ever.
"I know, it's felt like forever coming," Hawke said, finishing the last of his pint, his eyes shining, "two months we've been planning this and now it's here. Doesn't feel real actually."
"When are you leaving?" Anders asked, a horrible feeling creeping up his spine.
"Tomorrow," Hawke said, making Anders go a little cold, "tonight's a 'last night on the surface' so to speak."
"How long will you be gone?" Anders tried not to sound as affected as he was.
"A couple of weeks at the least," Hawke said as if it wasn't a big thing at all, "the place we're trying to reach is a week underground and we need some leeway for getting a little lost, and for exploring whatever we find down there."
"Right," Anders nodded, wishing Varric had warned him about what was going on.
But he had no one to blame but himself, for which Anders was acutely aware. He'd ignored his own desires by ignoring Hawke and now he'd left himself no time to worry about the real problem. Like the idea of Hawke not coming back. Anders felt his chest tighten and breathed deeply. Fenris returned a moment later with drinks for himself and Hawke, looking a little harassed. He was followed by the exotic woman from the bar who was unashamedly staring at the elf's backside with undisguised longing. She looked round at Anders and smiled beguilingly.
"Well hello," she said, taking a seat by Fenris; the elf subtly shifted his chair away from her, "I don't believe we've been introduced."
"Oh, Isabella this is Anders," Hawke said, taking a drink from his new pint.
"Anders," she said, rolling the name obscenely off her tongue and narrowing her eyes, "have I met you before..?"
"You know, you do look really familiar," Anders said, wracking his memory, "have you ever been to Denerim?"
"I used to lodge at The Pearl, for a time," Isabella said.
"That's it! You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right? What was her name?" Anders snapped his fingers.
"The Lay Warden?" Isabella said, looking suddenly nostalgic.
"That's right! I think you were there the night I..." Anders started.
"Oh!" Isabella sat forwards in her chair, her eyes alighting with recollection, "Were you the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing? That was nice..."
"Please stop talking, now," Hawke interrupted, causing Anders and Isabella to look round; Hawke looked scandalised and Fenris looked like he was just glad someone else had taken Isabella's attention away from him.
"Oh, sorry," Anders said but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped; that had been a very interesting night indeed.
"I wasn't," Isabella said with a sly smile, sitting back in her chair and putting her feet up on the table, ankles crossed.
"Alright, enough," Hawke waved his hands, pointing at Isabella, "I hear enough things from you already that I can't unhear, never mind adding to them."
"I can drink to that," Fenris muttered, taking a long, purposeful swig from his drink.
"You're no fun," Isabella said to both of them.
"Hey, feet off the table Rivaini," said a voice from the doorway.
Anders turned round in his seat to see Varric, Merrill, Bethany and a tall red haired woman he didn't know. They spaced out, greeting each other in turn, sitting down with their drinks and falling into conversation as only good friends could. Anders couldn't help but feel just a little lost.
"So, you made it," Varric said to him, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed, "told you that you wouldn't want to miss it didn't I?"
"Yes," Anders said, accepting the drink he passed him, "without actually telling me why."
"Well, I thought it would be a surprise," Varric shrugged.
"You are the master of understatement Varric," Anders said with a withering look, "they should put a warning on you."
"You wound me," Varric said dramatically, "and don't act like you don't appreciate my invitation."
Anders would be lying if he did.
If Hawke had been truthful he would have told Anders it was just another night of drunken revelry instigated by Varric. Oh they talked about the expedition for the first half hour or so, until the drink started to take effect and everything just slipped into drinking competitions and trying to get people to do ridiculous things as dares. Anders wondered how any of them were going to get up the next morning, never mind be compos mentis enough to even read a map.
Sometimes I really hate being the only sober one, Anders thought as Hawke once more threw his head back, letting the shot of whiskey slide down his throat, gasping as he came back up.
"Alright," he said, pointing blearily at no one in particular; Aveline was laughing behind her hand as Hakwe wavered, "don't think I can't see you laughing at me Captain of the Guard."
"I don't know what you mean," Aveline said airily, taking a drink from her ale.
"You, my friend, have just earned yourself a whiskey," Hawke said with a sly smile, "unless of course you'd rather have a challenge?"
Aveline, Anders had found out quickly, was always up for a challenge. He'd known that Hawke had a friend in the City Guard but Hawke had omitted that she'd recently been promoted to Captain. She seemed like a decent enough woman, if a little rigid about the rules. Anders would try to keep himself on the wary side of friendly with her.
"There's nothing you could dish out that I couldn't do Hawke," Aveline said, leaning forwards with a feral smile.
"Oh really?" Hawke said, looking distinctly, drunkenly pleased with himself, "then why don't you go next door to your troops, who're currently trashing the place by the way, and tell Guardsman Donnic just how madly in love with him you are?"
Aveline went even paler than she already was and seemed to sober up completely. She glared at Hawke and sat back in her seat as Varric poured a shot of whiskey into her glass. She grabbed it quickly and threw it down her throat, refusing to even comment on Hawke's suggestion. Hawke was in stitches, for which Anders was sure Aveline would make him pay later, if the look she was shooting him was anything to go by. Aveline caught Anders sniggering and glared at him.
"You, drink or dare," she said, sounding every bit the Guard Captain; Anders felt the need to snap to attention.
"A bit of an unfair challenge with me really," Anders shrugged, laughing a little at Aveline's scowl, "considering I can't get drunk. Oh, just pour already."
Hawke leaned over to fill his glass. Anders couldn't help but notice how close he was, the heat radiating off his flushed skin.
"You're such a spoil sport," Hawke said with a smile, his eyes half lidded; Anders hoped it was the drink.
"Oh you can talk," Anders said, swallowing the shot and grimacing at the sour taste.
Hawke leaned back, affording Anders a view of Fenris; the glare the elf was sending him could have melted through iron. Anders just looked back, not letting it get to him. It was his turn anyway, why waste it?
"Alright," he said, pretending to think about it, "Fenris, drink or challenge?"
"Like there's any challenge you could give me that I couldn't do," Fenris snorted.
"Brave words, considering the last person that said them is now cowering in her chair," Anders said with an unconcerned look.
"Hey!" Aveline said, sounding offended, "I am not cowering!"
"Well, come on then," Fenris said, leaning forwards; Anders saw out the corner of his eye that Hawke looked uneasy, "give it your best shot, mage."
"Fine, elf," Anders said sarcastically, "since you weren't wise enough to heed my warning, I'll just have to teach you why no one ever takes a challenge from me."
"You're full of it," Fenris said dismissively.
"So, let's see," Anders said, enjoying himself immensely, "next time you're in the Gallows, and I know you have to go back there at some point because Hawke has an errand to run there tomorrow morning before he leaves, and I know how you can't be parted from him for a second, you have to grab Knight Captain Cullen's arse. And someone else has to see it, or it doesn't count."
There was a moment of complete silence, in which Fenris actually looked stunned that Anders had come up with something either so ridiculous or so good, and the others followed suit. Strangely it was Merrill who broke the silence with a shrill laugh, clapping her hands and falling back in her chair. Varric followed shortly after and then the whole table was in an uproar. Anders was glad he still had the ability to come up with suitably awful dares; he'd been famous for it back at the Circle in Ferelden. Everyone, even the new apprentices, knew better than to accept a dare from Anders. He'd begun to wonder if it had become part of the initiation ceremony, he could just imagine First Enchanter Irving, 'This is the phylactery chamber, and these are the templar barracks and, oh, make sure not to accept a dare from Anders, it's more than your life's worth'. Probably never happened but Anders liked to think it could have. He laughed along with everyone else, but on looking round at Hawke his laugh died. No one else seemed to notice the two of them, all too busy ribbing Fenris and making lewd jokes, but Anders couldn't help but notice. Hawke looked serious and Anders felt confused. What had he done now? It passed in second but, to Anders, it seemed like time was frozen around them. Bethany was the one to break him out of his stupor and, when he looked back to Hawke, the man was laughing and joking with the rest of them once more.
"Anders, how could you?" Bethany was saying, her stern tone ruined by her smiling face.
"Oh, I just have an overactive imagination and endless curiosity," Anders shrugged off the odd feeling and smiled, "that's why I escaped the Circle so many times. I thought up all these plans and then just had to know if they worked or not."
"Troublemaker," Bethany teased, her eyes narrowed.
"Professional troublemaker, thank you very much," Anders said, clinking her glass, "I put in lots of hard work to get where I am today."
Bethany laughed and shoved him in the shoulder, just like Hawke tended to do. Must be a Hawke family trait, Anders thought, when they're drunk anyway.
"I really can't believe they're leaving tomorrow," Bethany said, looking around the table and taking another sip of her wine.
"Neither can I," Anders shook his head, watching as Merrill spilled a tumbler of goodness knows what down Aveline's front, eyes going wide and hands flying to her mouth as she quickly began rambling and trying vainly to mop it up, "the sulphur smell's going to have them vomiting in no time."
"What sulphur smell?" Hawke cut in.
"Oh, did I not tell you about that?" Anders said innocently, trying to gauge whether what he'd seen moments before had even happened; Hawke seemed his usual self.
"No, you left that part out," Hawke said grouchily.
Despite Hawke's seeming return to normalcy Anders spent the rest of the night out of sorts. He jumped between being forcefully happy and cheerful one minute then rather solemn and grave the next. It also didn't help that he got into a rather heated argument with Aveline about the treatment of mages by the city guard in which Hawke had to intervene before one of them threw a punch. He didn't think he entirely endeared himself to Aveline that night if her stony expression was anything to go by. Things broke up not long after, everyone agreeing that they shouldn't push their luck too far considering the hike they were taking tomorrow. Anders stayed to help clean up the vast amount of glasses while the others waved drunken goodbyes and wobbled in a steady stream out of the pub. Aveline had a little more trouble than the others considering she had to round up her troops, who were a little the worse for wear. She was in a foul mood, however, so the threat in her voice was pretty much enough to have them all jumping up out of their chairs and stumbling after her. Varric shooed them out of his suite so he could get to bed, leaving Anders, Hawke and Fenris to walk out into the cold night air together. Anders wished the elf would piss off so he could talk to Hawke alone but it didn't seem like it was going to happen.
"You'll be an interesting sight tomorrow," Anders said sardonically as Hawke stumbled and caught himself on the wall.
"I'm always interesting," Hawke said in what Anders was sure Hawke thought was meant to be charming but came out incredibly slurred.
"You're such a drunkard Hawke," Anders shook his head, "when are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Eight," Hawke grimaced, "eight in the morning. Maker it's going to hurt, I can tell."
"The nice long walk from Lowtown to Hightown will do you good," Anders said as he started to walk towards Hawke's house, "all uphill."
"Actually I've gotten round that one," Hawke said slyly, "Fenris is letting me stay at his tonight. We're both heading out together anyway and it'll save me the walk, I've got all my kit there already."
Anders bristled. He knew he had no right to but he couldn't help it and my, my but did the elf look smug. Or as smug as he could considering the range of emotions on Fenris's face was hard to discern sometimes. They reached the top of the stairs that led down to the market and Anders was tempted to keep walking with them even though it would only take him even further from Darktown. Hawke would be too drunk to notice but, despite the amount Fenris had drunk over the evening, Anders was sure that he would. His eyes were oddly keen in the moonlight.
"Well, if you're heading to Hightown," Anders said tightly, "I suppose this is where we part ways."
"Oh, right," Hawke said, looking around him as if only just realising where he was; he fixed his eyes on Anders and stared at him.
"I'll come and see you off tomorrow," Anders said when Hawke didn't say anything, "if you'd like."
"Yes," Hawke smiled, "yes I'd like that. Maybe I'll think of something clever to say instead of just vomiting on your shoes."
"I bloody well hope so," Anders laughed back, "these are new boots."
"We need to go Hawke," Fenris cut in, voice deadpan as usual, "I'd like to get a least a few hours sleep before I have to wake up again."
"Right, yes, sorry," Hawke said, waving his hand distractedly, "we're meeting at the Merchant's Guild, eight o'clock...in the morning. Dear Maker save us."
Anders watched Hawke stumble off, alternately using the wall and Fenris as support, and tried not to let it get to him.
Anders didn't need to worry about waking up early that morning as he never actually got to sleep. Well, that wasn't exactly true, he'd fallen asleep not long after getting home and going to bed but it wasn't long before the nightmares started and he knew it was going to be one of those nights. The sickening sound of the darkspawn and the distant roaring of the archdemon. He hadn't bothered trying to get any more sleep, it wasn't worth it. Instead he'd read a little more of the new Tevinter tome that the resistance had managed to procure for him, pottered around the clinic for a while and then decided to make something for Hawke which he thought the man might appreciate. A quick and simple hangover cure which Oghren of all people had taught him; for a long time he didn't believe it worked, considering Oghren never seemed to stop drinking long enough to get a hangover, but Nathaniel swore by it so it must be worth something. He set a pot of water over the dying fire and conjured a flame to get it going again. The wood sparked and crackled; he threw another log into the pile and watched as the bark caught.
Hawke really was incorrigible, when Anders thought about it. Why could he never fall for someone normal, someone inconspicuous, someone attainable? Hawke was everything but inconspicuous; he got himself involved in any trouble that was going, he had a sister who was an apostate, he seemed happy to openly defend mages in front of templars if Varric's stories were anything to go by, he drank like a fish, he was terribly irresponsible and kind and generous and handsome...and I really need to stop torturing myself, Anders thought ruefully as he stirred the elfroot into the boiling water. He didn't have any right to Hawke, and even if he did he wasn't sure whether he would take it. Hawke's life was complicated enough as it was without adding Anders' baggage to it. There were things he'd done, things he could never undo, which he was sure if Hawke knew about then the other man would probably never talk to him again. There was no way it would work.
It was just getting light when he set out for Hightown. The sky was pale, only a scattering of thin clouds marring its seeming flawlessness, each tinted a delicate pink by the rising sun. It was a good half hours walk and the air was still bitterly cold. Anders wished he'd brought his gloves as he blew into his cupped hands, wishing even more that he could summon a little flame to keep them warm. The Hightown market was mainly empty except for a few eager merchants just arriving to set up their stalls, trailing their wares behind them in carts. The air was crisp here, much clearer than in Darktown. There was a stiff breeze that found its way inside Anders' coat and made him shiver and pull it closed. Anders jogged up the stairs towards the Merchant's Guild. He heard the gathering before he saw it.
"...Nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering!" was the first thing he heard as he walked round the corner.
Lovely, Anders thought, as he looked to the dwarf walking back and forth before the gathering, shouting his speech. Anders scanned the crowd as the dwarf continued, picking out Hawke and Bethany's dark hair and Fenris's stark white. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice spoke from just over his right shoulder.
"It was Anders, wasn't it?"
Anders spun round in surprise to find Hawke's mother Leandra standing behind him. He calmed his breathing and let out a small laugh to cover his nerves.
"Sorry, you startled me," Anders said, "how are you?"
"Oh, well, I'm as well as can be expected," she said, her lips a tight line as she smiled, "are you here to see Hawke off, too?"
"Yes," Anders said, falling into step with Leandra as she headed towards the crowd.
"I'm glad he has such good friends to look after him," Leandra said, making Anders feel distinctly guilty considering, before last night, he'd been avoiding Hawke purposefully for weeks.
He didn't say anything back. The dwarf, Bartrand, Anders was sure Varric had said his brother's name was Bartrand, broke up the meeting for a few minutes so that Leandra could talk to Hawke. Not that he was happy about it; he seemed like one of the grouchiest dwarves Anders had ever met, and Anders used to work with Oghren. Hawke didn't look the worst Anders had ever seen him but he did look rough. He looked like the shouting that Bartrand had been doing hadn't done him any good, probably because he had a headache, and he had purplish bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He gave Anders a warm smile, however, before letting his mother embarrass him with a hug in front of everyone.
"Mother, please," he mumbled as Leandra didn't seem to be letting go any time soon.
"Well, what do you expect from me," Leandra said, sniffing a little as she let her son step back, "I'll be so worried for you while you're gone. I'm just glad you're leaving your sister here where she'll be safe, if both of you had gone..."
"It's alright mother," Bethany said, putting a consoling hand on her mother's shoulder, "although I think I might be safer in the Deep Roads with you brother, what with all the templar activity lately."
The thought made Anders' anger swell; the thought of the templars taking Hawke's sister...he couldn't even think about it. He swallowed and fidgeted with the pouch at his side, trying to distract himself. Then he remembered one of the reasons he'd come all this way.
"Oh, I made you something," Anders said, fishing out the potion and handing it to Hawke with a knowing smile "It's a, well, 'dwarf patented' hangover cure, thought you might need it."
"Oh Maker, you're a lifesaver Anders," Hawke said with genuine relief, opening the potion to sniff it warily, "you've no idea the headache I woke up with."
"Well it serves you right," Bethany said, sounding scarily like her mother, "you shouldn't drink whiskey, it's never agreed with you."
Hawke seemed to steel himself and then put the bottle to his lips and emptied it in three large gulps. He came back up gasping, his face twisted in disgust.
"Maker, what did you put in that? It tastes like shi..." Hawke stopped mid curse when his mother glared at him, "I mean it tastes awful."
"Sorry, I've never been able to disguise the flavour," Anders said apologetically, "it works though, that's all that counts."
"Right," Hawke didn't seem so convinced as he handed the empty glass flask back to Anders, "thanks for that. Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about, do you mind giving us a minute?"
Bethany and Leandra shook their heads, but Anders didn't miss the fact that Bethany was watching him with an odd look as Hawke led him aside, under the pillars that lined the Guild.
"What is it?" Anders asked uncertainly.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you a favour," Hawke said, looking serious, "I'm worried about Bethany. She wasn't joking when she said the templars have been more relentless than usual. They're cracking down harder than normal and, well, I wondered if you wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her while I'm gone. Don't tell her I've asked you or she'll have a fit, she's so independent sometimes it drives me mad, but...please, it would mean a lot to me."
"Of course I will," Anders said gravely and he could hear Justice echoing in his voice, "you didn't have to ask Hawke."
Hawke looked at him intensely for a moment before smiling.
"I should have known I could count on you," he said fondly, "thanks Anders, I mean it."
"Anytime," Anders said, "just be careful, alright? The Deep Roads aren't somewhere to be taken lightly, even if they're basically empty after a Blight. Just...stay safe."
He wasn't expecting the hug, which was probably why it took him a few moments to return it. Hawke's breath ghosted over his ear.
"You too," then he was leaning back, his hands staying on Anders' shoulders, "we'll be back before you know it!"
Then he was marching over to his mother and sister, hugging them both warmly, and leaving Anders distinctly torn. He wanted nothing more than to forbid Hawke to go, tell him he couldn't, that it wasn't worth it, but he didn't. He watched the company assemble with a terrible sense of loss. These next two weeks are going to be hell, Anders thought grimly.
"Come on," Anders jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned to see Bethany with her mother behind her, "you look like you could use some tea."
"Oh, uh," he thought about getting back and opening the clinic but, in reality, he wasn't really in the right frame of mind for healing right now, he doubted he'd be able to concentrate for long enough, "that actually sounds like a good idea."