We're late.
The human shrugs in a dismissive gesture, and makes no reply. He acts as though he doesn't care, but something stirs deep inside him; I feel it. He is distressed.
You are afraid.
"Shut it." He growls, his voice barely a whisper.
I am not speaking.
My thoughts resonate within us, and I know he notices the scorn in my tone. He shakes his head, and grows silent again.
I almost regret my teasing, but toying with the human amuses me. Of late, he's gotten into the habit of surrounding himself with people: thieves and pirates and runaways. Fascinating, all of them; never before had I been so entertained. We've spent the past few days on our own, however, sneaking around deep into the bowels of Kirkwall, running errands on behalf of the resistance. I am tired, and bored. I yearn for the place we call home.
I urge the human to walk faster, but instead he freezes, and I stir within, impatient. Through his eyes, I spot what caught his attention: a fox, red-haired and amber-eyed, crosses our path. The human kneels down almost instinctively; he smiles, holding a hand out. Idiot. He'll get his whole arm ripped off, and I know I'll feel the pain.
Magic cannot make limbs grow back.
As usual, he ignores my warning. The animal stops, its yellow wise eyes fixed on us; it approaches the human and sniffs his hand, expecting food. I feel the pang of guilt deep in Anders' stomach: we have no food. The fox is still staring into our eyes; I think it can see me. It sniffs the hand again and, having ascertained that no food had magically appeared since its last check, leaps forward and disappears into the night.
"She was hungry." The human simply states, his thoughts reaching me simultaneously. We are speaking again; I am pleased.
It is not your duty to feed every wandering beast in Darktown.
"I'll put some food out tonight; perhaps she'll find it." His thoughts are filled with childish hope and determination.
And perhaps you'll attract a horde of rats into the house again. Hawke won't be pleased.
He mutters a curse, and I know my warning will be ignored, but I let the subject go. We are heading home, and I am content.
On the doorstep, he freezes again.
I can see candlelight dancing in the windows. Lazy billows of smoke escape from the chimney. I do not feel the cold, yet I yearn for the warmth and light I know we'll find inside. I urge the human to move, and he finally knocks on the door just to shut me up.
A fluttering noise from the other side, and the door swings open. It's Hawke. Of course it is; this is her house. Our house, Anders points out. The human's heartbeat accelerates, and I feel the knot forming in his stomach: he can tell she is angry as well as I. Her short blonde hair is tousled, her eyes weary and reddened, each sporting a black ring underneath her yellow irises. She looks at us in dismay, and her hand twitches, ever so slightly. I notice the tiny gesture and notify Anders, but he does not heed my warning. Too late. Her small hand hits the human's face; not too hard, but hard enough for me to feel the burning sensation on Anders' cheek.
"Perhaps I deserved that." The human states calmly, his expression guilty.
"Perhaps?" She hisses angrily, and this time the human listens to me and takes a few steps back in self-defense. I do not enjoy being slapped. "You were gone almost a week! I thought… Are you hurt?"
He shakes his head, and she looks relieved. She covers the distance between us in a few light steps, and then her lips are on Anders', hot and ravenous and shameless. I feel a pang of pain as she bits on the human's lower lip, hard; whether in lust or punishment, I do not know. He doesn't seem to mind. When they part again, she looks into his eyes, and I know she's looking for me.
"Justice?" She inquires in a murmur.
For a heartbeat, the human gives up control; the bluish glow of the Fade seeps through the otherwise invisible cracks on his skin, and she knows I'm there. She smiles, lightly kissing the human's cheek. It is a chaste, friendly gesture, largely different from the previous one: this kiss is for me. She is relieved I'm here, for I am Anders, and he is I.
Before Hawke, Kristoff's memories taught me about what mortals call love.
Even as his body decayed, Aura's image remained vivid in the man's soul. When we joined, I reveled in her ghostly touch, her warm voice echoing through every fiber of my being, soothing me. When I regained consciousness, she was gone, but I dreamt of her every night. It was the first time I ever had a dream.
These days, it is Hawke who haunts my dreams, as well as my nightmares. I dream about her smile, her voice, her touch. My nightmares are filled with images of her suffering and dying, at the hands of the Templars, or the Arishok, or some unknown enemy. Sometimes I dream it is us that choke the life out of her, and we wake screaming, We tell her what we saw, but it doesn't scare her. She says it was just a dream and soothes us back to sleep. Her acceptance of us will be her downfall; she knows it as well as I. Yet she remains. She is not afraid. I think she finds us enticing.
"It's damn good to see you, Blondie."
The human startles slightly, relaxing again as the dwarf enters our field of vision. I do not dislike Varric, though he never speaks to me. He knows I'm there, but he isn't keen on talking to a spirit. Dwarves cannot reach the Fade even in dreams, so my realm is particularly unfamiliar to him. But he is nice enough to Anders, and very nice to Hawke, so I do not pester him too much.
"I was afraid you might take longer. Hawke here's been starving herself for days. Kept bringing her food, but she wouldn't touch it with the tip of her boot." Varric continues.
The human tenses slightly: he is distressed at the sound of that, as am I. Humans need sustenance: it is one of their many weaknesses. But we both know this is really our fault, so we keep quiet.
"Well, I'm sure you two have a lot to… uh… talk about. I'll see you around." He smiles warmly at Hawke, less warmly at us, and leaves.
A few minutes after, she is leading the human to their bedroom, their breaths mingling, short and ragged, as they kiss. I stir within Anders, but if he notices, he makes no mention of it, for he is too focused on Hawke. I lust for her too, though not in a way humans could comprehend. She has power over my vessel, and through him she has power over me. I long to touch her soul, to hear her thoughts as I hear Anders', to feel her happiness, her fear and her sorrow. I desire to understand her, and the power she wields, but she remains an unknown.
The human tugs sharply at her clothes, and would have torn them off if she hadn't reached for the buckles on her corset first. I feel the need growing within him, feel the irreverent control she has over him. I do not know what to make of it. His touch becomes desperate as he presses himself against her, hands trailing over the soft, exposed skin. His hand reaches her breast, and he draws on a breath of mana to summon a wisp of icy air. She gasps at the sudden coldness, shivering as a sigh escapes her lips. His use of magic brings me to the surface, if only for a heartbeat. I hear her moan and feel her twitch as if this body was my own. For a split second, I get a taste of ecstasy as I press Anders' body against her. Hawke arches her spine underneath me, and I don't want to let go. But as Anders stops drawing mana from the Fade, I am pulled back to the core of his being, and the sensations become those of a stranger again. I complain, but my endeavor only seems to bolster him, and I feel his teeth sinking into her neck as his nails scratch her back. It must hurt, and Hawke does let out a brief, muffled cry. She is in pain, and I blame the human. I push his consciousness aside, hard, but to no avails. He shoves me back, as a breathless groan escapes his lips. Hawke shudders at the sound, whispering senseless words.
His control wanes as he slides into her, and flickers dangerously when she tightens around him. I know his skin glows as our minds mingle further, but Hawke doesn't mind it. She never does. She lets out a wordless cry as pleasure suddenly washes over her. Anders holds her tightly, his voice raucous as a breathless curse escapes his lips.
"Maker, Hawke…"
He reaches for her as he climaxes, moaning against her lips. The sensation is strange, for me, but it is not unpleasant. It is satisfying, almost liberating, although I know it doesn't come anywhere close to what the human feels.
Hawke is still trembling slightly when they lie back down, side to side.
"Don't disappear again." She manages to say when she's caught her breath, and the look she gives us is filled with absolute love and heartbreaking devotion. "I'd follow you into the Void, just… don't leave without me."
"I won't. I promise."
He wraps his arms around her reassuringly, but he knows as well as I that Hawke is not buying it. There will come a time when we will have to take drastic measures to win the cause, and when we do, we will not take Hawke with us. Her safety cannot be compromised.
That is a promise you cannot keep.
Anders makes no reply, and I decide to leave him be.
One day, we will face the Maker's wrath. But it was our mad quest for freedom that led us to Hawke, so perhaps we are not as cursed as we thought. I cling to that thought as she falls asleep in Anders' arms, warm and safe, and he cannot keep his eyes off her; there is nowhere we'd rather be.