A/N: This should have been updated a long, long ago. I'm sorry. Things have been crazy lately, and not all in a good way. I will actually start trying to make sure this is updated once a week because they're short entries, and I have a long list of ideas for this piece. Hope you are still enjoying! And thanks for following along thus far!
Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, but I'll never stop dreaming.
I sleep, yet I never feel rested.
It's almost like I blank out. More blacked out writing has started in my journal.
I have no other choice – I have to stay away from it, and from Hawke.
My resolve has lasted a matter of weeks. Less blackened entries have shown up on these pages since I've resolved to stay awake from Hawke. In turn, the headaches have lessened as well. When I sleep, I feel rested, like I have actually been in bed and asleep.
What in the Maker is happening to me?
I understand – more than anyone – that my merge with Justice has made me...unstable, to put it mildly, but could it have digressed this far and this quickly?
I want to see Hawke. But I know I have to stay away.
I have to stay stern in this, for her safety and my own.
I couldn't say no. This was something she couldn't do without me, or so she said.
"Anders...whether or not you like to acknowledge it, you've been avoiding me. And again, whether you recognize it as the truth or not, you are still a Grey Warden."
"You don't need to remind me. They do a well enough without your help."
She tried to stifle a smirk, but I could see it in the subtle way the corner of her lips twitched.
"Noted. Now – are you coming, or not?" She crossed her arms and leveled her gaze on me stubbornly. I was powerless beneath that stare. Who could say no to Hawke? I sure as couldn't, blast the void. This was the last place I wanted to go.
I hate the blighted deep roads.
"You know I hate the blighted deep roads," I mumbled.
"I know." For the briefest moment, her eyes almost softened, but she kept her arms stubbornly crossed. "You act like I'm giving you a choice here, Anders. I'm not going into the deep roads without a Grey Warden and, by the Maker, you're the only I got!" Her words should have hurt, but I was strangely amused. I suppose I'd grown use to her snarky, sarcastic, pain in my arse, whit.
I even missed it, in the weeks I'd kept myself occupied.
"Alright Hawke. We'll do it your way then. Off to the deep roads..." I grumbled, then sighed exasperatedly. "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"
"Oh c'mon Anders, you know you love me." She winked and then she was gone.
Maker's breath, this woman. Little did she know that's exactly how I felt.
