Anders was caught within the throes of a nightmare. He was reliving a darkspawn ambush from his time fighting as a Grey Warden alongside the Hero of Ferelden. Unlike what had happened in reality, in this twisted dream Warden-Commander Tabris was cut down.
She took a blow aimed at him. The elven rogue was unable to stand under the strength of the hurlock's sword swing, and she fell in a spray of blood. Ander screamed as terror gripped his heart. The darkspawn and his fellow Grey Wardens disappeared, leaving only a sold black background. All he saw was her. He kneeled beside her, drawing her into his lap as he tried to push healing magic at the wound slashed diagonally across her torso. But the magic wouldn't come. Tabris gripped his hands.
"You left," she hissed. "You abandoned your brothers, abandoned your oath!" The accusation in her tone and the betrayal in her eyes cut Anders deeper than any physical wound. "You thought you held a secret love for me in your heart, but you abandoned me!"
"I'm so sorry," Anders choked out. "I'm so sorry, Kyanna. I had to leave!"
Tabris's nails dug into the skin of his hands. Blood seeped from her wound and dripped from her lips, but she seemed not to notice. "And look what you've done to Justice! You are a monster. An abomination," she said, her voice filled with vehemence, disgust. All aimed at him.
Anders clenched his eyes shut, leaning forward. "I'm sorry. I should have –"
"Anders," a strong voice intoned. He looked up, seeing Justice. The spirit appeared in his true form, as he had when they had first met in the Fade. The injured Tabris had disappeared. "You are called to greater things than serving the Grey Wardens. You must help all mages, free them from their imprisonment," the spirit rumbled.
"Oh? You fancy yourself a savior?" a voice sneered. Anders jerked his head around to see Tabris approaching. She was unharmed, wearing her ceremonial armor, every inch a Commander of the Grey. "You are nothing, Anders," she hissed. "I should never have saved your pitiful life. You are unworthy of the Grey Wardens. I should have turned you over to the templars. Better yet, I should have executed you myself." The contempt in her voice weighed heavily on Anders's shoulders.
"Lies!" Justice thundered. "Commander Tabris is an honorable woman who would never say such things! She always supported you as a true and just friend!"
"Justice… what if she's right?" Anders asked, voice hollow as he stood. He looked back and forth between Tabris and the spirit, eyes finally settling on the glowering Tabris. The Commander drew a dagger from the pair sheathed on her back, the sound slicing through the air ominously.
"Anders!" shouted an angry Justice. "You do this to yourself! These are your thoughts, your guilt, wearing her face! You insult her, using her as the voice of your self-loathing! Stop this!"
Anders's eyes widened at this. Stunned, he looked closer at Tabris. Her form wavered a moment as he considered Justice's words.
"But… there's so much I've done…," he said, voice wavering as well.
As his own assurance of his own guilt solidified, so did Tabris's form. Her lips were set in a harsh line as she glared at him. Sure steps brought her to stand directly in front of him. He tried to turn away, ashamed, but one of her hands shot forward. She gripped his jaw to force him to look at her. He heard Justice shout his name once more, before he faded away. All he could see now was Tabris, her blue eyes flashing. Her other hand raised the dagger. Anders drew in a sharp breath, waiting for her to strike.
"Anders," Tabris said, gently. Her expression softened, and the dagger disappeared. Her grip on his jaw lightened to a caress. "Anders."
"What?" Anders asked, startled at this change. "Kyanna, what –"
Both her hands moved to hold one of his. He met her gaze, confused, wondering if what he saw there was forgiveness. Her hands were warm.
"Anders," she said again. "Wake up."
Anders gasped, eyes shooting open. Another face with blue eyes replaced Tabris's. His hand shot forward and grabbed the figure's outstretched hand as he lifted the other and called fire to it. The woman inhaled sharply, eyes clenched shut as she turned her face away from the flame. She held the rest of her body still, one knee resting on the edge of his cot, bracing for an attack.
"Kyanna–" Anders started, eyes trying to adjust to the sudden light. He saw black hair, a thin scar along her jaw. He removed his vice-like grip from her forearm, moving it to turn the woman's face toward him. He ran a finger down her cheek as her blue eyes blinked at him. She frowned slightly at the touch, but remained still. "M…Marra?" he asked hesitantly, trying to separate reality from his dream.
"Yes," she answered quietly, still frozen in place.
Reality hit him like a cold wind. Realizing what he was doing, Anders pulled back his hand immediately. "Andraste's flaming knickers, woman! I might have… Maker, I almost hurt you!" he exclaimed, horrified.
"Sorry," she said shortly, still not moving as she watched the fireball in his hand. Seeing her gaze, Anders flicked his wrist, sending the small flame to light the candles on the table by his bed. She flinched at the movement.
"What are you doing here?!" Anders demanded, suddenly aware he was shirtless and the blankets were tangled around his legs. It had been a late night in the clinic, so he had fallen asleep still wearing his trousers, at least. Thank the Maker for that.
Hawke hesitated, watching his face. "Are you… awake? Fully? So I can move without getting a fireball to the face?" she asked.
Anders huffed, nodding. "Why are you waking me up? Why are you… so… close?" he asked as Hawke pulled herself up and backed away a couple steps from the cot. He yanked the blankets away from his legs so he could move to sit at the edge of the bed. Sure, he had imagined what it would be like to wake up next to Marra, but this particular situation had not occurred to him.
"I shouldn't have come in, I'm sorry," Hawke said. "You have patients sleeping out front, so I didn't want to wake them," she explained, gesturing toward the door. This was the small room located at the back of his clinic where he slept. Anders nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. It was just like Hawke, to be considerate.
"You were… dreaming. You didn't respond at first, so I touched your hand," Hawke continued. "It seems that was a bad idea. You must have thought I was... an enemy of some sort?"
Anders huffed a half-chuckle. Not an enemy, that was for sure. Well, then again, who knew what Tabris really thought of him now. Maybe she did consider them enemies after he had disappeared from Vigil's Keep without a word. Anders bristled as he remembered what he had said upon waking. Oh Maker, he had called her Kyanna hadn't he? Was she going to ask about that?
Not getting an answer, Hawke asked a different question. "Are you… alright? You look… shaken."
Anders sighed, casting about for a shirt. He found the tunic he had discarded on the floor earlier and pulled it on. "Yeah, sorry," he said, waving off Hawke's concern. She looked unconvinced. "Warden thing. Lots of bad dreams. Can't retire from that part, apparently," he added, lying only slightly. He remembered Tabris's face in the dream and shuddered. He recovered quickly and sat on the edge of his cot to pull on his boots. If Hawke was here at this hour, that meant something urgent had come up.
"But I'm guessing you didn't come over in the middle of the night to discuss the Wardens," Anders said. "So what is it this time? Lost kitten? Mabari stuck in a tree? Giant spiders need killing?" He looked up when Hawke didn't respond. The woman was frowning, her expression conflicted and arms crossed. That was never good.
"If… if you're not feeling well, Anders…," she started, hesitant.
Anders chuckled. "You want me to play the sick card? I'll have to remember that next time I don't feel like being dragged around on one of your adventures." A pained look crossed Hawke's face. Not what he had been going for.
"I really… I really need your help," Hawke said, barely above a whisper. Her face crinkled and she covered her mouth with her hand. She looked down, her other arm hugged across her body.
Ander stepped over to Hawke and gripped her shoulders. "Hawke," he said, alarmed. "Marra, what in Andraste's name has you so worked up?"
"Bethy," Hawke choked out. "She's… missing. Someone took her," she whispered, the weight of the situation fully hitting her. She had been running on adrenaline and outrage until now.
Anders's head jerked back in surprise. That kind, innocent girl that Hawke protected so fiercely, missing. He knew the Gallows was a dangerous place, as every mage circle was little more than a prison. But he had thought, hoped, that being the Champion's sister would protect Bethany. Foolish, Justice berated him in his mind. No mage is safe while the Circles yet stand.
"The templars…," Anders started, voice dark.
Hawke shook her head. "No, not them. The kidnappers sent me a note." Her tone turned bitter. "They're using her as bait. They took her, because of me."
Anders couldn't deny the truth in that. He pulled her forward, hugging her to him. She didn't return the hug, her arms still gripped around herself as she tried to keep from crying, but after a moment she rested her forehead against his shoulder. "We'll find them, Hawke," he said, tone sure. It was rare for her to break down, so he would do his best to comfort her and give her strength. Even though his gut was twisted into knots of dread at the moment.
"We'll rescue Bethany, and we'll deal with them." One of his hands instinctively went to caress her hair, but he thought better of such an intimate gesture. That was a line Hawke would likely not forgive him for crossing, especially at a moment such as this.
After a moment, Hawke took a deep breath and pulled away. Anders dropped his arms, but watched her face. She scrubbed a hand across her eyes. "Right. We need to get Merrill and head to the Hanged Man. I sent notes for everyone to meet there." Her voice grew stronger as she spoke.
Anders nodded. Of course she would want help from everyone, not just him. Foolish of him to think otherwise, to briefly entertain the idea that he could be her hero for once. He tied back his hair and pulled on his mage robe. He grabbed his staff and a small pack containing potions and other supplies, then gestured at the doorway. "Let's go, then."
Hawke hesitated a moment, eyes searching his face. Finally assured that he was well, or deciding that the situation was too dire to dwell on his health, she turned and opened the door. Anders followed. At the sight of the daggers strapped to her back, he again remembered his dream of Tabris.
Kyanna and Marra looked nothing alike, beyond both having blue eyes, though Marra's were several shades darker. But Anders could see Tabris in Hawke. A leader who charged into battle with two blades flashing, who fiercely protected her own. A caring person who risked her life constantly for her friends and even strangers. A woman who loved another and saw Anders as no more than a friend. Even so, he would follow Hawke as he once had Tabris.
Anders sighed, closing the clinic door behind him. I'm sorry, Kyanna, Anders thought silently. I failed you. He followed Hawke into the shadows of Darktown, heading toward the exit into Lowtown. But my place is here. I will do my best to help Hawke, this woman who reminds me so much of you.