onetrackminds | (no subject)

[To say he was tired was an understatement; he felt like the energy had been sucked out of him, like someone had deliberately gone through every part of his body until they were sure there was nothing else. And he felt like he was still being sapped dry. He'd cast more spells today than he had since defending the Keep, and that time he'd had thick walls and further allies to rely on. This time he had barely had enough lyrium potions; and he'd still drunk too many, but the dangers be damned. After what had happened, he could give nothing less than everything, and he still owed so much more.

And yet, he was wired, on edge. The others were busy setting camp - they had finally found what looked to be a safe place, after fleeing Kirkwall - and for a change, no one was saying much. They must be as exhausted as he was, he realised. They glanced at him, occasionally, though he avoided looking back. Instead, he spread out a bedroll for himself, and then sat down, staring at the ground.

He knew he shouldn't be there, and he knew they didn't want him.

He also knew that once Hawke had made up his mind, there was no arguing. And he didn't have it in him, either; he never had. But he couldn't - couldn't face this. Them. Anything.

There was literally no fight left in him, and for a moment the old Anders was back, the one who just wanted to flee.

He rubbed at his face, then reached for his pack. It was nearly empty.]

I'll gather some herbs.

[It was an excuse, but a good one. They were all hurt, and he had nothing left for another healing spell, and all their bandages were used up. They couldn't risk any infections setting in. And he owed them that much, didn't he?

Not that he expected a response, or any acknowledgment, or an objection if he left without a word. He pulled himself to his feet, using his staff as support, and made his way towards the trees. It had been an excuse, but he should do this. They might not be his friends (he might not even like them), but--

But they deserved better. Maker, he'd made a mess of things.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[he sighs. He's getting a headache now, from the stress and from crying, but he doesn't even have the mana to heal that.]

There's never been any arguing with you.

Why would you even want to argue with me?

[Hawke sighs as well, shifting in place a bit so that he's sitting on the ground instead of on his knees, and able to stretch his legs out in front of him...somewhat. This means he has to lean all the more on Anders, but as that was his goal, he's not going to complain.]

I warned you I would hurt you. And now I have.

[Anders hesitates, still a little unsure, then shifts so he's more or less sitting on Hawke's legs. He's starting to suspect he's not the only one needing to be close.]

Yes, you did.

[Hawke sighs again, this time in relief, as Anders shifts against him and drapes halfway into his lap; this is much more comfortable.]

Do you expect you're going to keep doing it, or was the once enough?

I don't know.

[It breaks his heart to say it, but it isn't as if he can let his cause go.]

Would you trust me?

...That depends.

[Oh, Anders...]

Would you trust me?

I--

[He wants to say yes, of course he does, but that isn't what Hawke means.]

You mean you would want to help?

It's my cause, too.

[Which was, admittedly, easy to forget, living as he did in the lap of luxury in Hightown, saved from being dragged to the Gallows by a now worthless title as he had been.]

That's not the same as being caught up in--

[he stops, realising what he's saying.]

Though I failed at that as well.

[He's quiet for a moment before responding.]

You know I'm far too nosy for my own good, love. Don't blame yourself for getting me caught up in this; I was able to get myself caught up in it just fine on my own.

All the Templars in Thedas will be hunting me now. And you as well.

I spent my whole life before Kirkwall hiding from Templars. Granted, they weren't actively looking for me then, but I do have some experience in that area.

It won't be the same, love. They have my phylactery.

[They'll be coming straight for him, and anyone he's with.]

[Those four little words are enough to freeze Hawke's heart in his chest.

This is not something Hawke had ever really thought of before; after all, Anders has spent the past six or so years living without too many interruptions in Darktown. No official apostate-hunting parties had ever turned up at his doorstep with his phylactery in hand, at least. On the rare occasion Hawke had wondered about it, he'd assumed it must have been lost or destroyed, taking in the current evidence of Anders continuing to exist more or less peacefully outside any Cicle. Talking about his past had never been something Anders had liked to do, and while Hawke had always been curious, he'd never been curious enough to press the issue. If Anders wanted to talk about it, then Hawke would listen. If he didn't, then that was fine too. The man Anders was now was more important to Hawke than the man he had been.

But now it's come up, and in the worst sort of way. His arms tighten around Anders, pulling him closer, tighter, more secure, as if that will somehow ward off the answer to the question he's afraid to hear the answer to.]

Who has your phylactery?

[Would the Ferelden Circle have given it to the Wardens when Anders had been conscripted? If they had, that might mean he and Anders have a chance...]

[Anders is quiet for a moment; it must be difficult to imagine for Hawke, he realises, who has never known the sort of powers the Templars hold in the circle. And there's really no way to reassure him.]

No one specific, at the moment. I'm not quite sure where they keep it. [a small shrug.] One rumour said they had been moved to Amaranthine, but that was a trap. They might still be in Denerim.

[he shifts so he can slip one arm around Hawke's waist, stroking his back. Not that it will do much.]

They're not in the habit of ever giving them up. Not even when a mage joins the Wardens, it turns out. But I do have some experience eluding them.

Are you familiar with how they work?

[Because right now he needs to know everything.]

[He tries to take some comfort from the arm around his waist, but the gesture, though appreciated, is not enough to dislodge the worry tinged with fear that's begun to take hold.]

My father explained them.

[After which a young Garrett had pointed out that phylacteries sounded an awful lot like blood magic, to which his father had responded with a grim sort of laugh, and had not disagreed. The Chantry, it seemed, was willing to bend a lot of its own laws, as long as the bending suited their own purpose.]

In Denerim? I don't suppose there's a chance it could have been destroyed during the Blight, then?

Even if they were, mine would have been safe. I was caught not long after the Blight ended.

[And oh, doesn't that sound bitter? Though he doubts any of them would have been destroyed, either way; they would have been well protected, and most likely magically warded.]

Whoever comes to capture me will have it with them, though. Or they'll leave it in the nearest Chantry for safety.

[HE ALREADY DESTROYED ONE CHANTRY TODAY...]

[Well, damn.]

But that was in Ferelden, wasn't it? It will take some time for anyone to retrieve it and get from there to here, at the very least.

[Which will give them some time to put even more distance between themselves and any pursuit.]

It is, but... [he frowns.] I can't just run.

You can't just get caught, either.

If the Templars come for me, they have to bring out the phylactery. That gives me a chance to destroy it.

[he's wanted that for so long, Hawke. It's the last hold they have on him.]

[On the one hand, Hawke would be pretty happy if they could destroy the phylactery. On the other, he doesn't like the idea of Templars getting that close to Anders. At all. And, given Anders' past history, it will be Templars, plural.]

Then we'll need to go somewhere where we'll have the advantage.

Alright.

[He leans into Hawke more. Their discussion might be getting more serious, but all he wants is to be close. And he can't deny him anything; Hawke will be calling the shots soon, he knows. He always does.]

You're with me, then? No matter where this takes me?

Always, love. Wherever you go, I'll be right there beside you.

[As he's said a few times now...but, he'll say it for as many times as he needs to until Anders believes him.]

A few of the things I might do... You're too good for that, Hawke.

[He has to give him one more chance to back out. He wouldn't blame him if he did.]

Page 2 of 3