#chrissydeath

Anders felt his face fall when he found Hawke’s libraryalready occupied. Fenris, curled up in the window seat wearing an all-toofamiliar flannel shirt that definitely didn’t belong to him, his hairconspicuously tousled. He held a book open in his lap, and didn’t look up upontheir entrance.

Anders turned back quickly and Hawke was forced to stopshort lest he run him over.

“Does he have to be here?” Anders demanded.

Hawke’s eyes moved past him, briefly, to rest on Fenris, andAnders scowled as the big mage’s eyes softened at the sight of that damned elf.

“Fenris spent the night,” Hawke stated, matter of fact. Thesky was blue. The grass was green. Darktown was dark. Fenris spent the nightnow. “He’s a guest. I’m not going to abandon him for an hour while I havelessons.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of throwing him out,”Anders snapped. “You made these plans with me ages ago!”

How quickly Leopold Hawke’s handsome face could transformitself into stern lines of painful disapproval. He didn’t speak, but hismeaning as he brushed past was clear.

“Let’s get to work,” Hawke said in that hard voice of his.He pulled a book from the shelf and, when he saw it was the wrong one, tossedit to the ground.

Anders pushed down against his anger. It seemed overpoweringthese days. He told himself he would be witty and charming instead. He wouldshow Hawke what he was missing, choosing that bitter elf over him.

“It’s this one,” Anders offered, smiling, helpful. Heselected for Hawke the healing tome they’d left off with that last time. Hawkeaccepted it with a disheartening level of suspicion.

Two years ago, Hawke had asked Anders to help him improvehis healing spells. The lessons were an opportunity for Anders to have the bigmage all to himself. He treasured each session for what they were – the oneenduing bright spot in his life now that Meredith was all but ruling Kirkwall.

And that elf – that sour, prejudiced, ungrateful elf –wanted to weasel his way into it.

“I just think it’s stupid for him to be here,” Anders said,the words bubbling up and bursting out of him like a darkspawn childer escapingits pod. They were at the table now, the book open between them. Hawke pausedin reaching for his pen, looking at him, and Anders hurried on before he couldstart frowning at him again.

“He hates magic!” Anders said, and tried not to think of theway Hawke had said Fenris spent the night.

The elf didn’t lift his eyes from the book. “I’m more thanused to the feel of Hawke’s magic by now,” he said. “What’s more, I trust him.”He almost sounded bored. And it was conspicuous, how he only mentioned trust inHawke. Anders felt his rage simmering, just at the sound of his hateful voice.It flashed in his mind – Hawke with his arms around that elf – Hawke’s nakedflesh against those wretched lyrium bands.

“You’re only staying to annoy me!”

“I couldn’t care less if you are annoyed or not.” Fenristurned a page.

“I suppose it’s easy to be gracious when you think you’vealready won.”

“Won?” Are we competing?”

Anders’s fury sparked. Soon it would truly catch fire. Hecould feel it, hot, in his fingers.

“You - !” he began.

“Enough,” Hawke interrupted. He slammed his book shut.

After, he walked Anders to the door.

“I think we should move these lessons to your clinic,” Hawkesaid. His words were hard. He was annoyed. Calmer now, Anders wanted to throwhimself into his arms. Hawke was annoyed – but he still looked at him withconcern. “Anders,” he said, “What happened in there?”

“You saw. He antagonized me.”

“He - ?” Hawke shook his head. “It was like you were losingcontrol.”

“You’re worried about me?”

“Of course I am. You’re my friend. I want to see you well.”

“I’d be better if you weren’t with that elf.”

He expected anger, but he had trouble reading Hawke’sexpression. “Can’t you be happy for me?” Hawke asked.