2. The Lie

or, in which Anders isn't entirely honest about the whole glowing-eyes situation.

Whoa! Readers! Haha, it's always a pleasant surprise for a new story. Thanks to everyone who favorited or subscribed; it's awesome feedback to get :)

Little more backstory into Justice this time. He's still OOC. It's still intentional. Aaaand that said... enjoy, I suppose.

Disclaimer: Don't own DA2.

He is so tired when he gets back from the Chantry, tired not just in the foggy-headed, limp-muscles sense but in the curl-up-in-bed-and-never-get-up way. It's the feeling of defeat—the knowledge that how hard he tried still wasn't good enough. Karl is dead, and Justice is outraged, and Anders wants nothing more than to close his eyes and collapse right where he's standing. Maybe then Justice will at least shut up. He lurches through the door to his clinic, already sure that this night can't be over soon enough.

"So," she says from behind him, with purpose, and he realizes abruptly that sleep might be nice but is just going to have to wait.

"This is about what I think it is, right?"

"Glowing eyes," she drawls, crossing her arms. "So I bet that's a fun one at parties. You'll have to tell me where you learned it."

He knows she's more serious than she acts; this much, at least, he's already begun to assume about her. She's all lidded eyes and lazy confidence, but when she says tell me then she means it.

"This is tricky to explain," he starts, a weak beginning that impresses neither her nor Justice. "Back when I was in Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the Fade. He and I… became friends, I guess, and after a while I realized there was so much more we could do together than separately. So I…" Just say it, he thinks, and, spit it out, bastard, Justice interjects. "I took him on as a host."

Hawke's eyes go very wide, and behind her that redhead—built like a bear, that woman is, with a disapproving scowl directed not so much at Anders as at the entire situation—reaches abruptly for her sword. "You're an abomination?" Hawke demands, and then again, "Wait, wait wait—you? Are an abomination?"

Not even like 'Maker, what have you done?' so much as 'you? Really?', which is kind of irritating. "It's not like that," Anders snaps reflexively, even though it absolutely is, and the irritation is his and Justice's both. "He…" He wants to say that he's not disfigured and he's not crazy, that Justice is just a stupid, arrogant voice in the back of his head, but he knows that he can't explain the spirit to her.

Justice isn't like other spirits, the ones that have spent their entire existences in the Fade. They don't just speak differently, they communicate differently altogether. They don't know how to have conversations or read faces, just how to take people over, jerking them around like wide-eyed puppets on strings. But Justice is different—he was trapped outside the Fade, and he's spent time around people. Spirits in the Fade are defined only by their essences, but Justice grew, in his time with humans, a personality.

They didn't realize until he'd already settled into Anders' body: that there wasn't one more powerful creature, but two now trapped in one mind. In a way it's like sharing a room with a stranger—secrets dissolve when every part of their day is spent together, until they coexist as best as any two personalities can. At least they share the same views on mages, about bringing equality back to Thedas.

If only Justice wasn't such a snarky bastard.

Sarcasm must be the spirit's favorite discovery from the human world. For all that Justice can do well, there's the maddening part of him that also needs to point it out. Anders knows that the spirit does resent the fact that they're both trapped together, and he gets that mockery is, for Justice, a coping device.

Which makes it no less obnoxious.

He can't explain this to Hawke. Justice would never back him up: the spirit's even learned to talk like people expect when he takes over. In part, it's his way of torturing Anders, but they both know that no one can meet the real Justice. Spirits aren't meant to have personalities; how could they justify it? I'm not just an abomination, I'm a uniquely crazy one. Split-personality disorder, he's pretty sure, is not going to calm Hawke down.

So he pauses, and then lies, "Justice and I are one. His mind is my mind—we both changed each other when he took over my body." At least everything but the first part is true, sort of. "I'm just a person now—except the part of me that wanted justice for the mages is stronger. And now I've got the power to do something about it."

"And it comes with glowy blue eyes and everything. You got a bargain, huh?"

She's not getting it, and if he doesn't win her over… then you're in deep shit, buddy, finishes Justice in a growl. "Please try to understand," Anders pleads quietly, intensely. "I'm not a blood mage; I've never wanted that. I can control this power."

She eyes him up and down, as if she's looking for a sign of possession—bubbling skin, maybe, or his suddenly sprouting claws. "In my experience, there's no such thing as a free meal. Or… well, free glowing eyes, as it were. Magic, I suppose." Behind Hawke, the redhead guard groans, and Hawke rolls her eyes. "Oh, you know what I mean, Aveline," she mutters, in a way that makes Anders suspect this has happened before. "I happen to believe him."

"Oh, for Maker's sake," the redhead protests loudly, and Anders cringes. "An abomination? As if that bloody elf wasn't enough?"

"Fenris or Merrill?" Ariadne is unperturbed. "Because I don't really see how you could not like Merrill. I mean, Fenris I can understand; he is a little bit… well, not a people person, anyhow. But he's pretty easy on the eyes, so that has to make up for some of it." She's smirking now, as Aveline begins to splutter, eyes narrowed. "Speaking of eyes, have you seen his? You must have by now, right? I mean, I know almost all elves have pretty eyes, but his are especially—"

"This isn't a joke!"

Aveline finds her tongue abruptly, and as she speaks Hawke's mouth tightens at the corners. It becomes quite clear to Anders in a moment that he was right: this mage takes things more seriously than she dares let on.

"I'm aware," says Hawke softly. "Trust me, Aveline?"

And to Ander's amazement, the guard opens her mouth and hesitates and then falls silent. "I'll be outside," she says tightly, after a moment, and turns on her heel.

Anders can't help the shock—even Justice is surprised. "Wait," he murmurs. "You really… you believe me?"

"In a 'not turning you in to the templars' sense, sure." She flashes him a smile, and he's grateful enough to return it. "Surely the spirit can't be all bad, if it accounts for this sexy-haunted look of yours."

Oh dear Maker, groans Justice, as Anders double-takes and hurriedly recollects himself. What would it take for you not to get distracted by everything you meet with breasts?

A hell of a lot more than you, Anders snaps back, in a sort of 'don't you get in my way, Justice' tone, and manages to raise an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he wonders, with a deliberate sideways grin that he perfected back in the Circle. It's been months since he's done this. "Sounds like I'd better look in the mirror more often."

"I'm supposed to believe you don't already?" She smirks. "Fat chance. Looking like that must take time."

He snorts, waves a hand. "Psh. Escaping the Wardens, a deal with a Fade spirit, few months spent healing all day, every day… I'd say it's a fair trade."

Shut up. You're an ass, Anders. Do you know that? Do you know that you're an ass?

Justice, do us both a favor and give me a second, here.

Hawke raises her eyebrows. "Oh? That sounds like a good story."

"It's a long one," he hedges, and glances pointedly towards the door, behind which Aveline is waiting with the exact same scowl. "Probably not one to tell right now."

"You think I'll get to hear it some other time?"

Both of them hear the layers in the question. Is she going to see him again? Anders takes a slow breath and lets it out again. What else is there to say? She's helped him. He owes her.

"I have your maps," he says finally, and her eyes open slightly, the attempt to hide her surprise not entirely successful. She hears a very final goodbye that, let's face it, Justice is all in favor of. And Anders is genuinely about to give her the maps—which he's been keeping rolled in a cupboard by the window, which he retrieves without flourish—and say goodbye and good riddance to the Deep Roads and this apostate…

And then when he turns around to pass them to her, she's watching him carefully, and what she finally asks is, "Are you going to be okay?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Well, obviously about the templars," she begins, matter-of-fact, "but about your friend Karl. Is everything going to be all right?" She purses her lips a little, eyes contemplative. "You can lie if you want, but there's not really a benefit."

He holds out the maps, and she takes one end, unsurprised when he doesn't let go. "I don't know." The words trickle out of him, faint and tired.

"Okay." She smiles a little. "Let me know if I can help."

He lets go of the map.

"I'd like to come with you."

"What?"

"Into the Deep Roads," he continues, even as Justice shrieks, What? WHAT? "I know them from experience. I'd be able to help you." He wavers a little before adding, "I do owe you for tonight. I couldn't have… have helped Karl without you."

"I'd have liked to have done more," she disagrees, and when he meets her eyes he sees, maybe for the first time, an utter seriousness. "I'm really sorry, Anders."

"It's fine." He ducks his head, letting go of the maps at last. "Just… if there's anything I can do for you, Hawke, let me know."

She grins with an edge to it, and as he turns away to close the cupboard he thinks he hears, "Oh, I've already got so many things in mind." He straightens abruptly, and finds her sauntering towards the door, as if she'd never spoken at all. He's trying hard to decide whether or not he should reply when she adds, over her shoulder, "If you need anything, just come find me, okay?"

Psh. Rarely, if ever, has Justice sounded less convinced. Just come find her? Like she's going to help us now she has her maps?

A week later, Hawke appears on his doorstep in time to warn him about a templar patrol in Darktown, and wherever she gets her information, it's just in time.

The day after that, she's chasing bandits with Aveline and fractures her ankle jumping off an eight-foot cliff onto one's back. As soon as she staggers through the clinic door, wheedling to an unmoved Fenris that the least he could do, really, would be to carry her, Anders is already sure he's going to regret this.

Snarky!Hawkeiskindofanidiotsometimes(don'ttellher.)

I'm trying, more or less, not to use in-game script (although this story will follow in-game events, at least until the last few chapters.) But there's just that one line where you get your first chance to flirt with Anders, and then something comes out of Hawke's mouth like "yadda yadda sexy tortured look of yours"... I'm paraphrasing. But it's wonderfully awkward. And did merit inclusion.

Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!