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This is just the next bit from my Handers & Amell/Merrill story, which I am tentatively titling Something Like Home. Continuing off of this post.
Im getting close to 4 written chapters ao may start posting to ao3 soon...
Anyways please enjoy my big dumb m!Hawke - I love Marian but I am so enjoying writing this loveable idiot.
Anders had intended to stay the night at the clinic, burying himself in his writing, in cleaning, in making potions and salves - anything to distract himself from the steady pulse of shame he felt at having fled. At least there, he could avoid having to face Garrett.
A stupid thought, in retrospect, given Garrett had never once in his life let a sleeping dog lie.
A few hours after he departed, he heard a tentative rap on his locked clinic door. Their knock — developed between then when they were still denying the degree to which they had intertwined their lives and their selves with each other.
"This way, you know it's me," Hawke had said, "and that you're safe."
He had felt something then - a flood of warmth, because damn if this man wasn't about the only place he felt safe in this Maker-forsaken city - and he felt it now, despite himself.
Still, he sighed, dropping his head to his arms folded before him on his desk, until he head a Hawke's rumbling voice on the other side,
"Come on, Anders. I know you're there."
Anders stood, opening the door and standing shame-faced before the man he loved - the kind, generous, open man that had for some reason chosen him.
"Anders." He said, as he followed Anders into the empty space of the clinic. There was a note of hesitancy in his voice. He wasn't a man who often tread lightly, but he seemed to be doing so here. "You left…"
Anders sighed. "I did."
He braced for the recriminations that would surely followed, but Hawke simple asked, "Are you okay?"
He looked up, met his eyes. His brows were knitted, concern apparent in his face. Anders felt a flood of guilt, self loathing at the sight - why do I have to make everything so difficult?
"Yes. Of course -" he shook his head, "I mean, I don't know, Hawke. Look at me. I can't do this. I am a mess. What could I possibly offer that little girl but more hardship?"
Hawke paused. He thread his arms under his heavy coat, around his waist, and nestled his head in the crook of his Anders neck before speaking.
"A father?" He said, "It means something, knowing where you came from"
A sob choked unbidden from Anders throat, "You say that like it's so simple."
Another hesitation.
"Maybe it is." He said, "Maybe it doesn't have to be complicated."
Frustrated, Anders pulled away, and went back over to his alchemy bench. He needed to move his hands and steady his thoughts.
"What could I know about being a father, Hawke? I haven't had a parent since I was 12 years old - I barely remember what it was to be parented. What in my life could possibly have prepared me for this?" He felt the echo of Justice in his voice. "Just another thing the blighted Chantry took from me."
Anders felt a stab of annoyance - His own or Justice's he wasn't sure.
"It's easier for you - you had parents." He snapped.
Garret looked stricken at this. Anders raked his hands through his hair again.
"Maker, I'm making a mess of things" he mumbled, before continuing: "what I mean is… I don't have any guide for this. I don't know what to do. To say."
There was a long silence, before Garrett asked, "Did Anneliese have a guide?"
Anders learned forward over the tall counter, resting his forehead on his hands. He didn't reply. What was there to say. Selfish selfish selfish.
Garrett sighed this time.
"What I mean is, you'll take it day by day. Like Anneliese has done. Like my father did, I suppose."
After another minute of heavy silence, "Look-" he said, "just come to bed."
Pouting, he added, pulled Anders too him by the waist, "It's cold without my honeybear"
Anders laughed, as he always did - the incongruity of this big, hairy, hulk of a warrior and his sappy, pleading voice catching him off guard - and accepted his kiss before resting his head on the man's broad shoulder.
"It'll be right as rain tomorrow, love" Garrett added, "You'll see."
-♡-
The next morning came upon them quickly, finding Anders still awake. He lay on his back, with Hawke tucked against him. In his sleep, he looked untroubled. Unburdened. A little more like the man he had met 5 years ago now. The man he was before Bethany had gone to the Wardens. The man he was before Leandra's death.
When Anders thought about the burden he would add to his life in the future, he felt sick. He didnt know yet where this cause of his would lead him, but he knew that peaceful methods were failing. Every day, the templars got more brazen. More extreme in their actions. Sanctioned by the Chantry, untouched by the Guard.
He knew whatever the solution was, he wasn't likely to survive it.
He had laid awake most of the night, drifting into a sort of almost sleep for only short periods before he jolted awake once more with the shock of the previous nights revelation.
His mind was spinning, struggling for purchase. It felt like trying to run through deep and shifting sand.
He knows there was a time when he longed for parenthood- in the abstract, at least. The idea that it was denied him for who he was chaffed.
Had had delivered many babies in the Circle. Placed many infants in the waiting arms of templars or Chantry sisters over the anguished cries of their mothers, or, worse, their mother's stone-faced silence, their bitter and resolved detachment. He had granted countless more the simpler and less painful path of termination — illegal for mages, and performed in secret; only possible if they learned of their pregnancy before it was discovered by the templars.
It had left him with a burning and simmering but ultimately impotent rage. But he had long since accepted his reality.
To have that upended was disorienting. To have it upended here, in Kirkwall, and now, when they knew how this would likely end — it was all too much.
The light was streaming though the window in a way that indicated early morning - the warm light of sunrise painting the room in soft yellow light. He watched Garrett for a moment longer - the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft curve of his lips. The pressed a kiss to his dark, messy hair and, with a sigh, rose.
There would be patients in the clinic soon. He hardly thought this was a day he would make it through without coffee.
He pulled on his house pants and robe, sliding his feet into the soft plush slippers that had been waiting for him when he moved in - purchased for him in a fit of romanticism by Garrett before they had even kissed. ("I just wanted you to be comfy…" he had said, looking very much like a little boy in his abashed demeanour, when Anders had asked him about it, when presented with them on their first morning together.)
He padded down the stairs to the kitchen, pausing for a moment when he saw Anneliese already sitting at the table, a mug of tea clutched between her hands.
Circle mage habits, he thought. He wondering if they were all like this - early risers, keyed to routine. He had always woken with the dawn, no matter how little sleep he had had.
She looked up, and Anders felt a clench of shame once more at the weariness his found in her face.
"Morning Anders" she said, a false brightness in her voice.
"Morning" he mumbled, shuffling over to the stove in the corner to set the fire.
"Will you sit with me a bit? I could use some adult time. Andi will be up in about an hour and it'll be chaos from there on." She laughed, that high clear laugh of hers, and he felt like time collapsed. He couldn't help but look up at her round, smiling face and meet it with her own.
"Of course." He said, "Let me just get the coffee on. It was a long night."
"Coffee?" She laughed, "Look at you, fancy britches, with your coffee and your Hightown Estate."
He felt Justice grumble at this, his own discomfort with the privilege of their life here surfacing momentarily. You know I love you. But shove it.
He laughed instead. "It's new to me too. But the coffee is addictive. Sadly cant function without it some days. Do you want me to make you a cup?"
"Hmm" she said, "I'll try a sip of your first."
This seemed like a strangely intimate proposal, but he nodded.
Once his coffee was made, he settled at the table with her.
"So…" she said, "last night…"
"I know," he sighed, finding himself unable to meet her eyes, "I know. It was just…a shock."
She was silent for a moment, before reaching out and picking up his mug, taking a sip of the coffee. She screwed her face. "Maker, that's bitter. You like this?"
"Well, you know me" he quipped. "Bitter but sweet, right?" He added, reflexively falling into flirting and cringing at the directness. Old habits.
She laughed, but didn't respond. They sat in silence for a moment.
It was Anders who broke it.
"Why now?" He asked.
"Hmm?"
"Why now? Why did you seek me out now?"
She tapped her finger on the rim of her mug, looking at his appraisingly for a moment, before answering.
"She's a mage, Anders. Her magic manifested and we had to flee. I didn't… i didn't know where else to go. And I was.. tired of doing this alone." Her voice was matter of fact, as if her words hadn't made the bottom of his own life fall out - and peaked Justice's attention too. "Anyways, I had no idea where you were, if you were still alive."
"She's a mage." His voice was undercut by some combination of awe and dread.
"You're surprised? Both her parents are. Strong ones too."
"Still, it doesn't always…." he paused, "Maker, and you brought her here. Do you know how bad things are in Kirkwall."
"Things are bad everywhere, Anders," she said, "surely you know that. Fereldan just came out of a blight. Food is scarce, people are desperate. Magic is a good scapegoat."
"Kirkwall is different, Mell. Things are —"
He felt Justice rise within him again, quickly shoving his hand under the table. Too late.
Mell eyed him wearily. "Hawke told me about that… About.. your 'spirit.'"
Fucking. Garrett. The man had the discretion of a drunken school girl.
"Ah." He said. Stupidly.
"Is he truly safe?" She asked.
"Yes" he said, a little too quickly. "I mean, no. Its complicated. He wouldn't hurt you though. Or Andi." He was certain of this.
She nodded.
"Does she know?" Anders asked, "About me?"
Mell responded slowly. Her caution brought to mind a person speaking to a frightened cat, afraid they might bolt.
"She is a bright girl. She probably has figured it out. But I wanted to be sure I would find you before I told her. I had hoped we might tell her last night but…"
Anders stared down at his hands for a moment, massaging his thumb into his palm - a habit he had developed in recent years as his communication with Justice became easier. It had started as a short hand - an affectionate gesture meant to soothe; to say "it's okay". The world could be a lot for Justice, despite his love for it. But the world could be a lot for him too.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
