Chap 7 Like Coming Home
Selton wasn't an insignificant village much to Hawke's surprise. Lothering was bigger, but the two villages were mirror images of each other. It almost felt like coming home. To the east the village was surrounded by open field interrupted by farm houses, but to the west and north there were plenty of trees still thick with leaves. Children ran around the fields, chasing each other or helping parents with field work. Men stood outside bartering goods by two shops, whose signs she could not make out. Hawke could not count the number of times in Lothering where days unfolded in the same manner, quiet if not a bit dull. In Lothering she'd wander out into the woods and seek out bears just to get a thrill. A smile crept on her lips, mother would have killed her if she knew the truth.
Jersik stopped the wagon outside the inn.
"We have enough coin for this?" Anders raised a brow looking to her, as if the thought had just crossed his mind. She had been careful with every coin they spent, but she could only stretch things so far. Another night in the cold wouldn't have been too awful, but the thought of laying on the cold ground, forced into his arms after everything that had occurred, made her fingers twitch.
"Yes, but not much."
"That's fine. Hopefully, I'll be able to find a job here in the mean time."
Sometimes Hawke forgot Anders had other talents beyond the bedroom, magic and deception. Despite all those years in the tower without hard labor Anders was pretty good with his hands. A few months back they had done some work for an old widower, and he did earn his keep well enough. However, Anders could only do so much; they both needed to work if they were going to survive.
"I'll look in the morning." Hawke rubbed her knees, letting out a sigh. She probably wouldn't find much. She could contact a poultice or two, maybe some tailoring or wood carving, but finding people needing a hand had always been difficult without an in. At times like that she missed Varric's contacts almost as much as she missed him.
"In your condition? Ha-hawking some things may be a better bet." Anders caught himself quickly, and a pained look crossed his face. It looked like the suggestion of making his pregnant recently injured "wife" look for work hurt his pride, but the dimness of his eyes told her his cover was something to really consider. He did good, but what did they have to really sell— A few amulets she'd kept over the years, their staffs, the daggers Isabella had given them before she took off for brighter shores? Outside of a large market those wouldn't fetch much, and even then the number of enchanted items they carried would catch the attention of a templar.
Jersik turned back to them. Something about the elf's smile reminded Hawke of her father, and a familiar warmth rose in her chest. If things kept up she might wake up and think she's be back in the bed with Bethany, kneeing her side.
"You folks need a place to stay?"
Hawke bit the inside of her cheek, her nails dug into her skirt.
"Yes, I'm afraid so." Anders leaned forward.
What is he thinking?
Jersik let out a low hum, scratching the back of his head.
"Look, if you do some things around my shop, and help with farming...we have a barn you can stay in, but I need to run it past my wife first. I'll be back." With that Jersik jumped from the wagon and walked to the one behind. It would've been odd to reject such a kind offer, but Jersik had no idea what his kindness would cost him. Hawke let out a breath, thinking in such final terms never sat well with her. It was hard to say when it became so normal. Perhaps I am being paranoid. It is only a few days.
In Jersik's absence Alora turned to the couple, her eyes were filled with glimmering curiosity. There were children who imediately started gabbing with strangers, like Hawke was naturally, and then shy children like Alora, who Hawke was brought up to emulate. She could see the belt of shyness in Alora's eyes, restraining the questions or words she wished to say. Hawke smiled at her, and an alarmed look crossed the girl's face.
"We don't bite. Not even Sod bites. Well, except bad people." Hawke motioned to the tired lump of dog on the crates. Sodna looked to the girl, and gave a huff before shutting his eyes. He felt the same tiredness she and Anders did, and it pained her more than she could ever admit. Mabari lived longer than normal dogs, but Sod was getting old. Anders often said that she should be living comfortably, but Sodna, her constant protector, was the one who needed it most.
"I-I have never seen a dog that big before." The girl's quiet voice broke Hawke from her thoughts. Each word she spoke sounded uncertain, as if she was waiting to apologize for speaking out of turn, but the look in her eyes didn't speak of fearing a sharp reprimand. She truly did not want to disturb them because she did not know them. Hawke reached toward Sodna, giving him a few pets, and flashing her a wider smile.
"He's a mabari, a Ferelden dog. The smartest dog you'll ever meet. Well, maybe not Sodna." The dog gave a gruff staring at Hawke as if wounded. "Sorry boy, but you know as well as I do that you would ram yourself into a wall while chasing mice or cats." He turned away, snubbing her like the proud guardian he was. Hawke couldn't suppress her laughter, and Alora neither could Alora. After all those years Sod still made her crack up. She almost jumped at the sound of Anders genuine laughter. The sound's sweetness enraptured Hawke. She forgot how much she loved his laugh, how it for some reason always made her picture honeycomb, and filled her chest with heat like hot tea on a cold day.
A loud feminine voice caught her attention, and the laughter ended. Jersik's voice followed in equal loudness, but Hawke chose to ignore the words. Alora's face went somewhat pale, and a look of hurt crossed her face. When she turned around her shoulders were slumped, as if sacks had been tied to her arms. The days of parental fighting still rang out in Hawke's mind from when her father, in his paranoia, refused to believe templars were just passing through Lothering. Over the years, longing for those stupid fights had become part of life. It'd be nice just to hear her parents voices, just one more time.
In all probability her child wouldn't hear that kind of arguing. She was too soft for it, or perhaps to manipulative. Her eyes fell, and she gripped the edge of her sleeves. Maybe her fear of Anders kept her from fighting, but as the thought came to mind her insides shuddered, followed by a defiant rush of adrenaline that burst through her. No. She may have been fearful and needy, but that never kept her from disagreeing. She just didn't like arguing, except when she won, and as she glanced at Alora, whose head hung and shoulders twitched every time her parents raised their voices, regret for her nature was far from her mind.
Jersik returned, letting out a hefty sigh as he stepped onto the cart. He glanced at Alora, and mussed her hair until the girl was racked with giggles.
"Don't put yourself out because of us." Anders said. He sat up straight managing a small smile. "We'll get by alright enough."
Jersik shook his head. "No. It's fine. The misses is always wary of sh-strangers."
She had thought he sounded a bit different than the usual city elves or the rural elves they'd encountered on their journeys. Had Jesrik been Dalish? If so he must have been doing pretty well for himself— owning shop, and a farm for an elf anywhere was astounding, particularly in a small village that seemed to be mostly human.
"You wouldn't be the first to call me shem."
"Same here," Anders said.
Jersik looked over his shoulder giving them both an appreciative, if curious smile before driving the horses on.
They continued on down the road to the edge of the village where a large grey building sat in front of a field surrounded by trees. It was set away and back from the road and other buildings, as though it had been backed into a corner. It was rather fitting that they would be staying in such a place. Hawke chose not to dwell on it. The two wagons stopped in front of a large barn, and Hawke sat up. Jersik's home not being on the main road could work to their advantage. If Selton was indeed like Lothering templar patrols would merely stroll through the village every few weeks, not bothering to wonder down side roads.
"And this is home sweet home." The pride in Jersik's voice sent a little pain to Hawke's heart, as the wagon came to a stop. The value of a home could not be weighed, even if the home was forced upon someone. Anders jumped from the wagon then helped Hawke down. A sharp pain ran from deep inside her stomach up her spine, causing her to nearly fall as she put her feet on the ground.
"Are you alright?" A melodic female voice called out.
The elven woman and Jersik's brother approached them with wary expressions. The woman had delicate eyes with a skin tone just a shade darker than Hawke's. Next to her stood Jersik's brother. Hawke realized his features weren't strongly elven like Jersik. His ears were pointed, but his features were rounder almost like Feynrial's. If he was elf-blooded that would explain why he stood almost as tall as Anders. Jersik came around the side giving his wife a look that screamed "See perfectly fine people, I told you."
Hawke, forced kindness through the pain. "Oh I am alright, just more tired than I thought"
"Ajantis and Branwen, this is my brother, Garan, and my wife ,Eleri."
Eleri managed a small smile, but her eyes were dissecting them both. Her protective nature was admirable in such chaotic times.
"Welcome to our home."
"Thank you, so much for your kindness," Hawke said.
"What happened there?" Eleri motioned toward the blood on their robes. Hawke had less blood mostly on one the one sleeve and the neck of her robe, while Anders sleeves were stained deep.
"We were walking and I managed to drag us both down a hill."
"That's a lot of blood for a fall," Garan said.
"Not when you fall into a deer carcass and cut up your arms on the way down. We were rather lucky, a templar escorting a mage south stopped to help us."
It sounded reasonable enough. Hawke had seen it before. A senior enchanter on an errand with templar guards. Even as the Circles fell into chaos things had to be done, errands needed to be run. Eleri's eyes scanned Hawke over thoroughly, making Hawke shift weight from one foot to the other in discomfort. Eleri probably could not tell how far along she was from the wagon because her eyes went a bit wide then filled with what appeared to be concern, tinged with pointed annoyance that Hawke almost missed.
"I'm sure we have some spare clothes you can wear. If not I'll ask the neighbors tomorrow." Eleri turned to Jersik, as though restraining her true irritation with him. "You and Garan can unload the crates."
"Alora, set up two cots in the barn for our guests. " As Alora skipped off toward the barn Eleri turned to Anders and Hawke. While her look of suspicion did not leave her face, she kept the same gentle tone she used with Alora. "I'll clean out the back room of the shop for you two in the morning. It is not much, but it's warmer than the barn. In Branwen's condition, a warm bed makes a world of difference."
Anders nodded. A flicker of shame passed through his eyes and his face fell slightly. "I cannot give you enough thanks for this."
" Tis not a problem. Stay as long as you need, but if you intend to be staying here for a while you'll have to pull your own weight. Times are tough," Eleri said. "But we can discuss that later."
So it went that Anders and Hawke followed Alora into the barn. There were four stalls for the family's horses with mounds of hay on one side, across the room lay tools for smithing with carvings of ancient elven runes. Alora went to a back corner dragging out two cots. They were a bit too big for her to grab at once, so Anders helped Hawke to a chair then assisted Alora. Hawke watched as Anders and Alora set up the cots. Anders made small talk with the girl, managing to make her giggle and laugh. He always had a way with children at his clinic, and Justice never understood. Anders once told her the spirit admired it, and yet he could feel the spirit's confusion flutter through his veins. He used to say at times like that he knew himself from the spirit. As Anders smiled at Alora, as they pushed down the second cot. The hope that maybe he'd be able to act that way around their child rose in her heart.
Alora ran out of the barn only to return with a bucket of water. "Mother always says to be a good host. I'll be back later to get you for dinner." When the sound of the barn door shutting faded a deafening silence entered in Alora's absence. The two apostates did not look at each other and Hawke could not be gladder for it. Talking meant finding something to say, and what could be said. She had to keep her grip on Anders to help him stay sane, and she would in her own time. She had been more dazed earlier, but now the clarity of everything that transpired earlier could not be denied. He had put his hands on her, and she had to reconcile that. The choice to leave, for the moment, was nothing more than an illusion. To leave him meant to be alone and to have nothing. Worse, it left Anders to himself without any reason to even try to restrain himself. Somehow she had to swallow the fear. Unfortunately, it couldn't be something she could force.
"Are you hurting still?" Anders tentatively glanced at her, leaning his staff against a wall.
"Yes."
"You need rest." Anders began to walk to her side, but Hawke stood on her own using her staff for balance. She walked to a cot, resting her staff on the ground beside her. Anders walked behind her to better examine her wound. He had been able to remove some of the blood when they stopped by the river earlier, but using magic was tantamount to asking templars to come find them. Hawke winced when his fingers rolled over the cut down the back of her head. It couldn't have been longer than her index finger. "There's still a few bits of tree bark in it." She felt his fingers pluck the bits of wood out, flinching as his fingers stung the raw flesh. The soft warm buzz of magic came over her, and wisps of blue light filled her peripheral vision. "It's gone. Are you still nauseous?"
Hawke shook her head lightly. Since getting off the wagon she felt almost normal, as normal as she could get anyway. Anders got on his knees, resting a hand on her lap. "Hopefully, your head will be fine in a few days."
Hawke nodded, starring down at her hands. Well, mostly her stomach and a wee bit of hand. Her stomach was so big. She'd heard other women complain of how large they felt, but had thought they exaggerated. Now, whenever she looked down she felt like a Tevinter elephant. Her old robes didn't fit, and the ones in the markets didn't have too much in the way of room nor did they have coin to waste on a seamstress. Soon enough she could probably fit back into normal robes, but she'd be holding a child. She held Bethany and Carver when she was small and had played with Lady Elegant's daughter, but she knew little of how to handle babies. Children were so fragile, and the taint could do Maker knows what to their child. Perhaps he already had, or perhaps the pains since Anders attack had showed the Maker needn't do anything to her. He could wait for Anders to ruin things. I mustn't be negative. Things will be fine somehow.
"Where does it hurt?"
Hawke moved her hand toward the bottom of her stomach, and Anders urged her to lay down. When she did, Hawke began to count the boards that made up the roof. She hated being prodded at, and Anders took his time massaging, prodding and poking her belly. When he asked her to spread her legs she did so without thinking twice. It wasn't about how he repulsed her. He was ensuring their child was well, and nothing more. Yet when he pulled down her small clothes she couldn't help flinching, nor could she help the part of her mind that recounted every night they spent together that began with him doing the same thing. Silence filled the air, and Anders did not move his hands. When she looked down seriousness lined every inch of his face.
"What is it?"
"There...is some blood." The words sent Hawke's mind racing against her heart. What did that mean? Was she ill? The baby? Would the baby be born alive or join the Maker before ever seeing her face? Anders tried to put on his best professional act, but nothing fooled her. "It's only a little. Very little. " Anders eyes met hers, and he drew in a breath. "If we can help it...we need to stay here for a while. You need rest."
"We put them in danger every second we linger. Eleri senses it."
"No one suspects anything of us yet. The baby is fine from what I can tell, but it could turn at any moment. You could..." He trailed off staring absently at the floor. The only thing those sad eyes could mean was that all the horrible things that could happen were running through his fractured mind— a slow painful death or horrible birth because of him. It must have finally sunk in. Good. Anders turned back to her, pulling up her small clothes then fixing her skirt. "Just for once listen to me."
"Whenever I do that I get into trouble." Hawke closed her eyes, ignoring the hurt expression on Anders face. "But for now, I shall." Hawke listened to Anders moving to the cot next to hers. After a few moments the vague feeling of being watched caused the hairs to rise on the back of her neck.
"Why do you stay with me?" Anders sounded like a beaten dog backed against a wall. She wouldn't cry...she wouldn't break down, not for him and certainly not after what happened.
"Why do you keep me by your side?"
"I...I don't know anymore. I'm losing, Hawke."
Something in his voice caused Hawke's heart to freeze. She turned to him, and his eyes sent panic into the pit of her stomach.
Anders didn't look away from her.
"How much of me is left? You once said that the things I am don't define me, but I'm no longer a healer...I'm trying my damnedest to run from the wardens and Justice is so woven into me that for all intents and purposes he is me, and who knows who or what he is anymore."He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Today I did the one thing I swore I'd never do. Th-there are bruises on your neck."
Self-consciously her hand went to her neck. Could Eleri, Garan, and Jersik have seen them?
"What if I black out one day and I..."Anders swallowed, his eyes falling to the ground. "I could kill you. I could murder our child just like those people in hightown."
Hawke swallowed. She could help him if she tried hard enough.
"I've known you for years you would never-"
"Don't patronize me Hawke. You force yourself to touch me because you must." Anders words were hard, and riddled with something she could not place. A pang of guilt began to rise up within her. "I see how you look at me. I'm worse than Merrill ever was. I am your monster, and you don't deserve to live this way."
"Anders-" Hawke leaned toward him reaching for his hand, but he pulled back. He seemed so far off.
"When I see templars I can barely control myself. Ella nearly died by my hand because she called me a demon. She was just a scared girl who didn't know any better."
"But you did not kill her. Remember she got out of Kirkwall, and she's even helped others escape from the Circle."
"You tried to stop me and I damn near killed you."
"But you didn't. I'm here right in front of you."
"What happens next time? What happens when you try to protect a templar or someone else out there Justice deems an interference. Do I kill you then and there? Do I just pick up our child and tell him or her that papa killed mama?"
"You can control it. You haven't lost yourself yet." The words she yelled at their camp echoed in her brain. She was frightened, angry, and rightfully so, but Anders was still inside him even as the lines blurred.
Anders grew still, as he met Hawke's eyes with an icy stare.
"When I...when Justice took over...he enjoyed killing them." Anders looked away again.
Hawke swallowed trying the calm her racing pulse. Demons feed on human emotions they want to experience life. Justice did not. Anders feelings were forced on him. Justice is a spirit not a demon. He can't be...he can't be.
"If...you were truly lost we wouldn't be having this conversation." Hawke put a hand on his knee. "I was upset earlier. What else can you expect after something like that? Anders, I don't want to go on without you."
"Hawke, I think you have been for a while. I'm dangerous."
"So am I. We've both done wonderful and horrible things."
"Once it may have been comparable, but you never gave in...and I fear I'm turning Justice into...who knows what."
Hawke looked back toward the roof. Her body went cold.
"Don't say that."
Anders shook his head.
"I need to leave you."
The panic reached Hawke's throat, and she felt the tears threatening to break through.
"Don't leave me."
"I may hurt you."
"Then hurt me."
"And our child?"
Hawke stared at Anders, her heart was pounding against her chest. Nothing in their lives had been easy. His logic seemed to defy that. Every time they talked it seemed to come down to the same hard facts, yet it could not be that simple. She couldn't let it be.
"And what shall I tell our baby of you? Where will you go? I won't be safe just by not associating with you. We are both the face of this rebellion."
Anders shoulders slumped farther.
"Yet you are not synonymous with murder. You defended the mages...I killed innocents. In all honesty I can't say I regret what I did, but I'm sorry for what I am. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to keep the underground alive. I'm sorry...I corrupted my friend like everything else I touch." Tears came to Anders eyes and for the first time since that first night after leaving Kirkwall a long time Hawke saw Anders body racked with sobs. "I'm sorry for how I ruined you. I'm sorry our baby will be loathed and hated for being our baby. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry you love me because I'm so glad you do. Maker I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry." Hawke sat up swinging her legs over the cot. She stood, taking a step forward and held him against her. He put his arms around her waist, his cheek pressed against her stomach, as the words continued to pour from his lips. As she held him she shut her eyes, tears running down her face. Her Anders still existed even as Justice swallowed more of him. No matter how righteous the spirit thought he was, Anders still saw the consequences. Anders cared that he hurt people even when his convictions were adamant. Heaviness weighed on Hawke's heart as she stood there. A dull headache throbbed in her brain, and she could feel the warmth of Anders fingers through her robe. An undeniable sensation spread though out her body.
Maker help me I still love him.
