Note: Garrett is the default name for male Hawke. If anyone wants to know. Also, thank you for everyone that has commented so far! I love you guys!
Hawke strode quickly in a fast pace. His eyes burned with a frightful pace. After everything had gone through he was not losing his mage. They had escaped Kirkwall, lived through the Vimmark Mountains and even had to deal with a stupid elf girl thought herself to be a bit more than she had to offer. He had stayed strong through everything all so he could be with that stupid, moronic, insufferable mage! And what does he do after they settle for five years in their own home away from everything happy as could be? He leaves a Dear John letter and high tails it to the deep roads because of some stupid "calling". Hawke wasn't blind as to the slow slip of Ander's mind. After what he did to the Chantry and going down to the deep roads and finding Larius... how twisted he had become... his eyes no longer human, his body held twisted as the darkspawn overlooked him... All he could see was his Anders like that and it infuriated him. He lost everything! And even now his lover had run off and he would be damned by the maker himself first before Hawke let that man go.
He got down on his knees and slipped across dirt and stone sliding out into the underground light of one of the lost deep roads. He tumbled gritting his teeth as the jars of potions and his provisions jabbed him in the back a few times until he corrected himself to slide on his but and heels down the slope and onto an ancient tiled floor. He stood up not caring to pad the dirt off of him as he tried to collect his bearings. He had lost all of his maps in Kirkwall and it had been so long since he had been under the surface and he had been travelling for well over a month living off of deepstalker meat and underground river water.
Stepping in a small circle he took in his surroundings and the small posts that stood up high. A lost language to the dwarfs. Then he realized where he was: Caridin's Cross. If memory served he could find the anvil of the void to the right... Anders hated that place to his core... so the best bet was to find an abandoned thaig. Which... could be in any direction. He was lost. Which meant that he had only one choice, he had promised Anders he would never dabble in it again after what happened to Hawke's mother and Merrill's tribe, but... he was desperate. If he couldn't find Anders he had a back up plan. Throw himself into the biggest pit of darkspawn and fight until he dies.
He set his bag down, taking out an article of clothing into his gantlet clad hand and pulled it to his face. He took in a deep breath of Ander's sent, making his head feel fuzzy and his body relax. It made his heart ache and increased his need to wrap his arms around his love once more.
Hawke put the garment on the ground and closed his eyes. He focused on Anders as hard as he could while whispering some words. He moved his hand to his arm and started to carve small symbols into the exposed parts of his forearm. A hissing red light came up from the wound before the blood beaded up to run down and drop onto the clothing. The blood magic eased into the fabric before disappearing completely. The sound of a bell rang in the distance. He snatched up the garment and stuffed it into his bag and ran after the sound of the bell. It was a simple location spell that he had learned when they had been on the run. Typically he used it with a lot of lyrium, but his lyrium supplies were few and far between so he had been relying on a small piece of blood magic to get him this far.
He followed the sound of the bell until it stopped, moving as quickly as he could. It had not been nearly this loud before, he had hoped that it mean that Anders was close. Close enough for- The side of the cave wall opened up into a maw of darkness. It was too late to notice though, his foot was already falling down, his body following in the momentum. A hand shot out grabbing him by his pack and pulling hard bringing him colliding into someone that stumbled and fell onto the floor.
"Andraste's Knickerweasels, what were you thinking just running-" His words had been cut off from Hawke turning around and grabbing the mage in a heated kiss. Familiar hands tangled in his hair, his blond locks being pinched by the one metal clad hand.
The kiss broke and there was sharp sting of a hit to his face that caused his vision to burst with little lights.
"You idiot! You damnable fool!" Hawke yelled as he pent up rage suddenly surfaced. "What do you think you were doing?! You do not get the privilege of just walking into my life and then walking out!"
Anders held his burning cheek, "I told you I would break your heart someday! I warned you!"
"And I told you that no matter what I'm going to be here with you and that includes the calling! Even after..." His voice became gentle, his hands gripping Anders pauldrons as the anger gave way to the fear of losing his soul mate. "I can't lose you. Not you."
Anders heart ached. He had hoped to spare Hawke the pain of seeing him turn into a warped creature like Larius. He had prayed to the Maker every day he could fight it but it only grew stronger along with Justice's whisper. His friend yearned for the Fade more by the passing day. He woke up as Justice one day and had to fight to be himself. That was when he had known that he needed to leave. To try and leave Hawke with what little good memories they had been able to scavenge for.
"I'm sorry my love." And he meant it. He kissed Hawke's brow and ran his fingers through his mangy beard that was in desperate need of trimming.
"You're lucky I have a habit of forgiving fools."
"Not according to Varric's stories." Anders tried for a bit of humor. It was quiet after that. They both missed their friends back in Kirkwall. Most over Varric who seemed to not care one way or another if you were a mage, elf, dwarf, or a human that had power. Everyone was the same to him, even the Qunari.
"He did love his stories..." Hawke murmured, "Caught him once charging admission to hear them."
"Don't tell me which one because if I know that man then it was about us."
"It was."
Anders groaned, mostly from the realization that Varric had been charging to tell a mixture of women and men about his and Hawke's overly rambunctious need to be together and a little from the throb in his cheek. "Did you really slap me or punch me?"
"I don't know, I just hit you... you deserved it." All the fight was out of Hawke's voice as he wrapped his arms around Anders and refused to let go. The mage only nodded. He was stuck with Hawke, for better or for worse and that seemed to calm the constant chatter in his mind. "I will make a home down here with you if we need."
His eyes teared up, for Maker's sake Hawke was too good to be with him. Anders had asked himself so many times why he loves him but all Hawke said was: "I determine who is worthy of my love and I have chosen you." It was a wonderful way of saying, "I love you, deal with it, and shut up."
The mage had to swallow hard to reign in his emotions that were on the edge of rampaging. He had been prepared to never see his love again only to save him from falling in a deep cavern at the oddest of times in the strangest of places. "No, no I shall go with you." He finally spoke.
"Good, because I don't really fancy being in a place with no light. I do wonder why dwarfs like it so much." Hawke pushed himself up only to have unfamiliar hot breath puff on his face. "Anders... don't move."
Suddenly a round mouth was on his face, biting down on jaw and neck. He let out a shout, rolling off of Anders and punching at the small body of the deepstalker. Anders reached down and grabbed the creature by the neck and squeezed as hard as he could forcing it to release.
"Garrett! Are you ok-" Anders was suddenly tackled from the side. Three small, writhing bodies bit at his clothes, digging deep into his skin. He managed to pull one off but stumbled.
As he fell nothing came to catch him. His heart stopped beating, his mind no longer on the creatures on him as he realized he had fallen into the cavern He could barely see anything in that darkness besides the flash of magic lightning and the howl of his beloved.
"If you didn't like her then why are you taking her advice and coming along this strange path?" Bofur asked trotting along in the deep tunnel following Bilbo.
"I don't know... I suppose I feel compelled to come along this way." It was honest truth but only part of the truth. The other part was that Thorin had apologized late that night for his transgressions only to do it again this very morning! It was driving him mad! He liked Thorin, yes, but he wanted to be with someone that did not expect a quick fling. After all, once they reclaim Erebor he was going to go back the Shire and Thorin would... stay in Erebor... Their paths were too different, only converging for this one adventure. No. He couldn't afford a broken heart, so it was best that he took a moment away from the company and do something of his own. Though he was more than happy that Bofur had come he did slightly wish to have been left alone.
"This wouldn't be because Thorin fancies you, would it?"
Bilbo stopped and rolled his eyes, fixing his lanter up higher. "That's the problem, he 'fancies' me. I don't want to be with someone that just 'fancies' me. I'm a Baggins, I have my pride."
"Well sorry to have trod on your pride, delicate flower but that's how dwarfs court."
"You said you don't court."
"It's as much of courtin' as we get. You should be considering yourself lucky that the king does fancy you."
"And why would I be so lucky?"
"Because he's never f-" before he could say any more Bilbo shushed him.
"Shh, shh! Do you hear that?"
"Sounds like rushing water. Must be an underground river."
"What river shouts like a man?" Bilbo asked suddenly darting off as fast as he could towards the faint yells.
When he came close to the shores of an inky black river he skidded to a halt. The rapids were so fierce that anyone caught in it would be taken down its bends with in minutes where it would take weeks to walk.
Stuck on some rocks were two men. One just out of the reach of the other. The one with a thick beard was yelling. "Anders, Justice, whoever the hell can hear me, by the Maker wake up!"
The light from Bilbo's lanter pulled his attention to the shore. "Help him!" The current nearly swept the man away, he clawed at the rock he was holding like a desperate cat. "Help him, please!"
Bilbo put down his pack and lantern quickly digging through for his rope. He did not have many talents outside of book knowledge but he had helped a fellow hobbit rein in his pigs one autumn. He tied a slip knot into the rope and threw it out into the water. It missed. He pulled it back in and tried again right when Bofur caught up to his side. The dwarf huffed and puffed seeing what was happening.
"You're not throwing it far enough." He said grabbing the rope and trying his hand at throwing the loop. It missed twice but on the third time it wrapped around a limp arm. "Got'em, got'em." He said tightening the rope. Bilbo and Bofur managed to pull the man free and with a little difficulty from the rapids managed to bring the unconscious man to the shore. Once out of the water his wounds started to bleed.
The hobbit pulled out some of his shirts and placed them over the bleeding patches. "Throw the rope to the other now!"
Bofur did as told managing to get the rope around the man's wrist. He pulled as hard as he could but the distance and the current was taking the rope out of his hands. Bilbo grabbed the rope as well, pulling hard. The rope continued to slide between their hands ripping off skin and darkening with the red from the blood of their hands. They eventually had to just hold on while the man made his own way to the shore.
Finally he scrambled onto the pebbles, breathless. He crawled over to them and checked to make sure the other had been breathing. He gave a heavy sigh of relief.
"Thank you." He said simply looking up at them.
"You're quite welcome... can you help your friend? We can take you to somewhere we can help mend those wounds." Bilbo said politely.
"Yes." He picked up the bleeding blond. His legs were weak and he nearly collapsed. Bilbo and Bofur helped keep him steady.
"No need to be rushin' if you need a moment to gather your strength we understand." Bofur offered.
"I thank you and your wife for helping us but I would rather we find a warm place to be before rest."
"Oh Bilbo is not my wife." Bofur was close to laughing his head off at the expression Bilbo was pulling at the stranger's words. Bilbo growled in the back of his throat and blamed the poor lighting. Dwarven women had beards and large breasts, he did not have either! Bofur grabbed the lantern and moved forward to help guide the group back to the tavern on the surface.
"Shame, you two look nice together."
"You have strange things to say after someone has saved your life." Bofur this time laughed as they left Bilbo behind to stew in his rising rage.
Before the light disappeared from his sight he started to move only to have his feet move some pebbles off of something. He brushed the remaining rocks off and picked up a small gold trinket. It was in an odd shape of three points, not a triangle, nor a triskele. He put it in his pack and grabbed the rope and followed after the rest of the group before he was forgotten.