Temptation

When Olivia arrived at Anders' clinic, he was sitting down on an empty cot, hunched over with his head in his hands. She cautiously approached him, and at the sound of her footsteps, he sat up, lifting his head and meeting her gaze. When he saw it was just her and not a patient, he sighed, slumping forward again.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting on the cot next to him.

"Things just keep getting worse," he said, frowning. "I had templars practically on my doorstep last night."

"What?" she breathed, alarmed. "They were hunting you?"

"Not me specifically. They were just checking the refugee camps." Olivia let out a breath of relief, and he sighed, shaking his head. "But it's not like this place is a secret. It's only a matter of time."

"Don't say that," she said, and his eyes found hers. "We'll find a way to keep them off you. I'll lock you up in my cellar if I have to."

Anders huffed, smirking at her, and she tried not to think about the way her stomach flipped when he smiled at her like that. "Sweetheart, I'm not letting anyone lock me up, you included," he said. She let out a short laugh, smiling back at him. He stared at her for a moment longer before looking away, his expression serious again. "The knight-commander is out of control. Even her own people have been talking about it," he started. "The curfews. The midnight raids on mages' families. Everyone I know, forced into hiding so they won't be made Tranquil."

Olivia suppressed a shiver at the thought. Being made Tranquil was one of her greatest fears. She remembered what Karl had said all that time ago, and like him she would rather die than live like that—as would Anders. The thought of Anders made Tranquil, the sunburst brand of the Chantry on his forehead… it made her sick. The Templars could never find him.

"If they come here for you, they'll have to go through me," she said, determined to protect him.

Anders quickly sat up and turned to face her directly, his brows furrowed. "You're at as much risk as I am. That's what I worry," he replied, almost desperately. "What if your money and position aren't enough? What if the knight-commander turns on you?" He shook his head, his hands finding hers as his fearful gaze bore right into her eyes. "Everything I've done to control this… I don't care. I would drown us in blood to keep you safe."

"As would I." She pulled her hand from his, only to tentatively run her fingers across his cheek. He didn't pull away, instead surprising her by leaning into her touch. "I would destroy anything and anyone for you," she started, his brows knitting together. "But right now, we're safe. I don't want to see you lose yourself… to the templars or Justice."

"How much is left if you strip both those out?" Anders said, voice filled with anger. He pulled away from her and she let her hands fall to her lap. He let out a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I can't be anyone but who I am."

"I'm not asking you to be anyone else," Olivia muttered. "I like you the way you are."

"There will be more violence. I know that. If you tie yourself to me, I'll only hurt you."

"Anders," she said quietly. "I—"

"I mean it, Liv," he interrupted, standing up and turning his back on her. And there it was; he was pushing her away. Again.

Olivia wanted to scream and burn something. When would he learn that she'd already tied herself to him? That she didn't care if there was more violence? For three years she'd stood by his side, and she wasn't about to leave just because things would get harder. Maker, she'd fallen in love with the stubborn fool, and she couldn't leave, even if she wanted to. How could he not see that?

"Don't you get it?!" she shouted, shooting up from the cot. Startled, he whirled around to face her and she stepped right up to him, as close as she could get without him backing away. She looked him right in the eye and he didn't dare look away. "I am not going to abandon you because things are going to get more dangerous."

"Olivia—"

"No!" She huffed, frustrated. "Do you want to know what would hurt me? Losing you." His eyes widened at her words, and she shook her head, sighing in exasperation. "Nothing would hurt as much as losing you."

"You don't want to do this…"

"Do not tell me what I want to do," she breathed. She was tired of his warnings and rejections, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted him to let her in.

Anders swallowed hard, still staring at her, seemingly at a loss for words. After a moment, he furrowed his brows, making up his mind. "I never thought I would meet another mage like you, another apostate. That I would—" He stopped himself and shook his head, looking away from her. "Don't tempt me. Not unless you're ready for what that means."

"Anders," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. He still refused to look at her, so she gently placed her hand back on his face. He stood frigid beneath her touch, and she thought he was going to pull away, but by some holy miracle from the Maker, he didn't. He brought his troubled gaze back upon her, his eyes not leaving hers as he waited for her to speak. "I am ready for what that means. I've been ready," Olivia said softly.

He brought his hand up over hers, and she let herself smile the tiniest bit at the hope that flared up within her. Then she was suddenly nervous, and she went to tuck her hair behind her ear but Anders beat her to it, lightly brushing his fingers across her cheek as he did so. She gasped at the unexpected contact, his gaze dropping to her lips, hers doing the same as he started to lean in closer and closer, slowly closing the distance between them. Her heart hammered in her chest at the ghost of his breath across her lips, her eyes fluttering closed.

Just before their mouths met, a commotion at the entrance of the clinic interrupted them. Anders swiftly pulled away to assess the situation, leaving her standing there shocked and alone. Olivia let out a breath she didn't realize she was even holding, stupidly staring off into space, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus again.

Anders called her name, and she snapped out of it, helping him deal with his new patient, a seriously injured young man who had apparently gotten caught up in the middle of a dangerous brawl. Anders' eyes met hers for a brief second, and the heat in his gaze caught her off guard. She felt her cheeks flush and she quickly tore her eyes away, trying not to think about what had almost transpired between them. Olivia forced herself to pay attention to the task at hand—they had a life to save.