BioWare owns all, I just play in their pond. Reviews are always welcome!

A/N: My purpose here is to add extra glimpses to what we see in the game, and possibly to distract from some of the things that, as written in canon, I didn't really care for. This is also laying the groundwork for a largely-undefined post-game bit I've been thinking about. So, with thanks to Nevara1013 for pointing out that I originally neglected to explain this, we jump now to Act 2. In keeping with the flow from Act 1, for those who are following the bouncing canon ball, we're picking up after the completion of Anders's first companion quest. I hope all of the interaction between the central characters during my portrayal of Act 1 laid a solid foundation for how Hawke might have continued to nurture Anders into becoming more himself in the years between.

14. Revelatio – Anders

Hawke stirred enough to untangle the bedclothes where they'd gathered, freeing his feet and neck enough to roll over and take in the room. Though he half expected it to be the case, he found himself vaguely disappointed to find Anders no longer beside him. Instead, he found his friend – lover I suppose, now, for all the injustice that word does to what we've become – seated at the desk, lost in thought, his expression betraying almost nothing of his mind.

Ah, but I've loved you far too long not to know how your every mood passes over that face.

"I can't say I was altogether sure what to expect of being your lover, but shouldn't we generally need to quarrel over something to stoke that kind of anger?"

Now Anders regained a bit of himself, if only for a moment. "For all you know, you hurled all manner of vile insults at me in your sleep."

"Couldn't be," Hawke rose, heedless of his bare feet and the stone floor, and crossed the room. Kneading the healer's shoulders through the robes the man had put back on, he went on, "I did dream of you, but I was most decidedly not insulting you during any of it."

Flushing with both pleasure and unease, Anders found himself unable to regain his thoughts for a moment. "Now you're just trying to distract me, standing there in nothing more than your small clothes and teasing at the knots in my shoulder."

"Trying very hard, yes. Is it working?"

"Davin…" Anders took a moment to put his finger on exactly why he was angry, and in doing so managed to multiply his rage. "What we did last night, it was…"

"Fun?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Worth doing again?"

"That's not what I meant. It was dishonest, Davin, in the way I had to… Even if it was only of omission, a lie is still a lie, and this was your first… you deserved better." The healer stood, moving now to lean against the bedframe.

"I seem to remember enjoying myself rather a lot, but that isn't what you mean either. On your time, then, love; I'll hear whatever it is that's got you so angry with yourself."

Doesn't even know he just said it, or part of it. He knows me better than anyone has… "When we… you know… I've never had to…"

"It shouldn't be so difficult to discuss your pleasures with the one you're sharing them with, Anders."

There. Somewhere I can go. "There hasn't generally been anyone left for me to discuss them with," he said quietly. "In the Circle, on the run, it was mostly quick fumbles that were never meant to mean anything, only ever having the illusion of privacy and never meant to last. This is meant to last. Davin, you're the first person who has ever taken the time to care for me, to… to love me before…"

"Before making love to you? This may be thoroughly inappropriate to the moment, but I can't tell you how happy I am not to hear any doubt in you at all over whether I do love you."

Staggered, Anders blinked for a moment, rage cooling and settling into a familiar bitterness. "I still don't know how, or why, you waited all that time for me to figure out what we are."

"As if I had a choice. I think, in some part of me, I wanted us to be what we are from the first minute I walked into that clinic and watched you exhausting yourself to give a complete stranger another shot at living. Tell me, Anders. What did you … omit?"

"You want to know, do you?" Anders tore at the clasps on his robe, movements quick and furious. "You want to see what's scared away every man or woman who's ever represented to me the possibility of real love?" Before the feathers of his robe touched the floor, he was tearing off the shirt he wore beneath and throwing it to the corner, turning around to face the bed. "Here you are, then! Take a good look! This is what you took to your bed. This is what had me placing restrictions on something that should have been perfect for you. This is what has made me tell you from the day we met that you deserve better than me."

Maker's breath, Hawke cursed to himself. The man's back was riddled with such a latticework of scarring – thin lines and raised welts from years under the whip, curling around his side and over his shoulders. He wasn't abused. He was bloody tortured. Small wonder most of the clothes stayed on.

Hawke pushed off the desk and stepped behind his love, placing his hands at the healer's waist and moving them slowly upwards. Touching, exploring, accepting, even as Anders shook with the effort of containing his relief. Only after passing his hands over every mark, every reminder of pains past, did Hawke circle the man's waist and rest his chin on a shoulder.

Speaking now, soft and low: "Anders, nothing has changed. I think I've always marveled at how, try as they might, no one in your past has managed to break you. The hope and resilience you carry will forever draw me to you. That isn't what I took to my bed; it's who. I've watched you now for three years and more, as you found for yourself just who that is, who you are, and Anders… You're who I want. Last night was perfect, love, because it was with you."

Hawke kissed his lover's cheek and maneuvered them around to sit at the foot of the bed. "Every day for three years I've seen more and more of who you are, as you came to believe that you can be that person with me. The fact that you found yourself able to show me this without once questioning what we are together, that you did it out of a desire to see us last rather than fear that we wouldn't, well. All that says to me is that I don't deserve better. It tells me, Anders, that I couldn't ever find better."

Now Hawke reached over and, with a finger on his chin, turned his lover's face kiss him fully. It was enough to sit, enjoying the companionship of a silent sunrise, while the healer's anger ebbed and he accepted Hawke's sentiment as fact.

"Maybe I realize by now that it hasn't been the scars themselves that put people off. Maybe I know it's been more the weight they carry in my mind that scares them away, but…" The healer sighed, putting away the pain and the anger that weren't really so much to bear anymore, anyway. "I'd never have seen that if it wasn't for you, if you hadn't given me all this time to realize that I want to accept the love you offer, more than just wanting you to offer it. And after everything that's passed between us, I can't imagine myself ever questioning what you feel for me."

"Good. I've known for some while now, and I think you have as well, that you waited as long as you did so you'd know you could give me what you think I should have. Much as I've been there for you, you were guarding me yourself, keeping that distance. In that way, Anders, you could say you've been giving me everything I should have all along."

Anders was surprised to find himself genuinely laughing at that. "Maker, love, only you could take three years of cowardice and hiding from what I felt and turn it into something noble. Not that I'm objecting, mind."

"Now that's behind us," Hawke reclined on the bed, hands behind his head. "It's still early, and you're half-dressed. I see a couple of choices, here. You can put the robe back on and we can find some busywork at the clinic, or you can shed the rest of that clothing and show me a bit of what I missed seeing last night."

Inspired, Anders stood and reached for Hawke's hand. Pulling him upright and holding him close, his voice reflecting limitless possibility, he suggested, "I think it might be more fun if you shed the rest of the clothing for me."