Chapters: 9/9
Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Rating: M
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Anders/Nathaniel Howe, Anders/Female Hawke (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Post-Dragon Age II, POV Anders (Dragon Age), Past Relationship(s), Reunions, Relationship Status: It's Complicated, Mage-Templar War (Dragon Age), Survivor Guilt, Suicidal Ideation, Trauma, Panic Attacks, Demonic Possession, Found Family, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Anders Isn't Doing Great, Flashbacks, Identity Issues, I Promise This Is Funny Too Sometimes, Author Takes Liberties On How Magic Works, Therapy Doesn't Exist in Thedas, allusions to drowning, Non-Explicit Sex, Extensive References to Dragon Age Lore, Circle of Magi, The Chantry (Dragon Age)
Summary:
There he was, drowning: useful parts stripped away, the empty shell of him slowly floating towards the bottom. Anders hoped the undercurrents would carry the coat far away, and that it might surface somewhere where someone might recognise it. Think him dead. Free, finally.
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I just love the sort of unhinged vibes that Anders would potentially bring to a nathanders dynamic. Like, Justice is there chilling in the background because he doesn't get why anything would be wrong. They like Nate. They like Hawke. Everything about this is great! Win-win-win for everyone with all of them on board.
Meanwhile, Anders is quaking in his boots, muttering to himself because, "No, no, no, Justice. You don't get it! They're flirting, Justice. Flirting! If my hot-as-fuck current boyfriend kisses my hot-as-fuck ex-boyfriend, I will not survive the impact. I will spontaneously combust. There will be absolutely nothing left of us, you hear?"
Hey hey! Hope you're having a great night! How about an Anders x Anyone prompt? “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?” Hope the muse is helpful tonight!
I am, it's good to be back!
Have a cheeky Nanders for your @dadrunkwriting tonight, my friend! With a side of established Sigrun/Velanna
Maker, but they made a pretty picture together, wresting in the dusty training ring. Anders wasn't the only one to have noticed, either; everyone from the scullery maids to Sigrun to even Justice were watching as Cousland and the Howe duked it out.
He did have to assume the Spirit had less... earthly reasons for his interest, though.
The two men separated, panting and grinning, wild-eyed, at each other. Anders made eye contact with Sigrun, cuddled up against Velanna across the ring from where he leaned against a post. The little elf, of course, scowled at him, but he'd learned not to take it personally by now. Sigrun was about the only person she didn't glower at.
His attention switched back to the sparring men, who appeared to now be taking a break for water and discussing tactics. He pushed himself fully upright and hopped the fence, triggering a wolf-whistle from Sigrun.
"Hey, Howe," he called, adding a little wave to catch the older man's attention. He'd been flirting with more intention recently, not just his usual, low-level constant, and Nathaniel had undoubtedly been reciprocating his attentions.
Nathaniel turned at his name, eyebrows raised in question. "Yes, mage? We were about to start again; did you need the Commander?"
Oh, Maker, he was hot. Stripped down to nothing but a pair of sinfully tight, dark leather breeches, skin shining with sweat, he looked good enough to eat. "Oh, no, just thought I'd come wish my favourite archer luck, " he replied, swaying his hips dramatically as he stepped closer.
Nathaniel's lips pursed, but his eyes glittered with amusement. "I am, in fact, the only archer among us Wardens, so that ranking hardly says much about our friendship, now, does it, healer?"
"Oh, but even with another, they'd be hard-pressed to win my favor, " he tossed back with a cheeky wink. "No, your place in my affections is sealed, Howe. Best resign yourself to it!"
Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but chuckled despite himself. "If you are not here to spar, step back, healer. You are a distraction." He gripped Anders' shoulder with one hand, and his waist with the other, spinning him in an easy motion and sending him back to the stands with a gentle shove.
Anders felt his cheeks flush at the manhandling, mind immediately dropping into the gutter, as he stumbled back over to the other Wardens. Sigrun beamed at him, laughing at his flustered expression, and she tugged him to sit between her and Justice.
"Creators, shem, but you are embarrassing. Either bed the man or move on," Velanna complained. "I am tired of watching you two."
"Some of us wish to be wooed, and I am one of them," he responded haughtily. "Excuse me for having standards."
"You fall into bed with a new maid or soldier weekly," Velanna scoffed.
"Not recently." He'd given up his more casual trysts the moment Nathaniel had shown the slightest hint of interest. He still flirted, of course, he wasn't dead, but he hadn't acted on it in weeks.
"Hmmmph," was all Velanna deigned to reply with.
Sigrun elbowed her. "I think it's sweet,Lannan. Our Anders is in love!"
Anders flinched away, completely involuntarily, only playing it up after the fact to disguise the truth of the reaction; he threw himself into the dirt in pretend horror. "Don't slander my guys name like that, Sigrun! I simply realized the second most attractive man in the Vigil was interested in me, and am acting accordingly."
"Let me guess: the most attractive man being you?" Velanna sneered, and Anders winked at her.
"But of course, my lady."
"You're wrong on both counts," Sigrun corrected, as he knew she would; they'd had this argument countless times now. "Aedan is much more attractive than Nathaniel. Or you, sorry sweetie."
Grateful for the change of subject, he let his attention drift back to his Commander and Nathaniel. "You just like beards, Sugrun," he said distractedly.
He hopped up again the moment they called it a draw, trying his best to look casual as he once again approached the shorter man. "Maker, Nate, you don't know what you do to me, do you?" he asked once he got close went for a veneer of privacy.
Nathaniel, already flushed from exertion, turned a deeper shade of red at Anders' words. "I certainly have an idea, with the way you look at me, healer," he muttered, wiping his face dry on a scrap of linen.
"And how do I look at you?"
"The way I look at you. Only I have the sense to wait till the whole Vigil isn't staring."
Dragon Age Origins: Awakening
Nathaniel Howe/Anders
Nathaniel isn’t going to let his friend leave the Wardens without attempting a pursuit. Not either of them.
Super dramatic lil scene set soon after Anders and Justice leave the Wardens together. I tried to pull together a few of the different reasons Anders gives in game, in Codexes etc for leaving.
Nathaniel x Anders and some minor Nathaniel x Surana. Poor Nathaniel just wants one of the problematic mages he falls for to stay 💔
~ ⁘ Nathanders forever ⁘ ~
PG. No smut - only broken hearts.
@chaos-company‘s Angstpril Day 15. Alternate prompt: Come Back.
=====================================
Southern winds never made it this far into the Bannorn. Nathaniel pressed against the gale, small shards of ice slashing at his face as he struggled forwards, each step an act of labour. At his side, his wolf kept its head turned and braced against the storm, but like him, it kept on. “Good boy,” he murmured - it didn't respond to verbal praise like a mabari would, but he spoke to it for his own benefit as much as anything.
They had been tracking their quarry for days now, following the trail down from Amaranthine, deeper and deeper into Ferelden. Nathaniel had no phylactery, no templar methods to find who he sought, but he had his own skills, honed by years squiring and scouting in the Free Marches. He had found Fergus Cousland this way: he would find the healer.
It had only been this last day that the winds began. Buffeted by them head-on, Nathaniel knew it would be near-impossible for his wolf to keep following any scent, and for a while, he imagined it was simply another act of his poor luck that the weather had chosen to contest them. As hail began to whip through it, however, he began to realise this was no no natural storm at all. He knew this cold. He was close.
Encouraged, the Warden-Constable doubled his efforts, pressing harder against the onslaught. If he was right, then they didn't need to follow tracks any longer, they didn't need a scent - they just needed to find the eye of this spell.
Finally, after days of searching and these final hurried minutes of pressing, he saw him: a lone figure through the sleet, tall and slim, a staff at his back and feathered mantle at his shoulders.
"ANDERS!!"
Nathaniel called his name over the storm. The figure stopped and turned.
"Oh, bloody - GO HOME, Howe!"
Nathaniel ignored the instruction, struggling closer until Anders was no longer a grey impression in the wind, but had colours and came into view. His chest ached upon seeing him. Never before had he cared so deeply for someone he could bear so ill.
He expected a sheepish, sickly grin of cheeky apology, some quipped accusation about not being able to keep away from him, but instead, he was met by a face of stone.
"You shouldn't have come, Nate."
Anders' voice was… different, since they'd buried Kristoff's body. Since their mutual friend had sought a new home. Nathaniel had talked Justice into the possibility of finding a living host, but he had never imagined that host would be Anders.
His friend had changed. Something of the man he knew and, in a complex and vexing way, cared for had gone. Not ceased entirely, but had become buried, as though a decade of change had passed rather than a few months.
"You didn't think we could lose you both and do nothing?", he asked, smiling crookedly despite the heaviness within him. It was good to see Anders’ face again. Surely even he would see reason, now that they could talk.
"So you plan to force us to stay!?" The mage’s voice was guarded, sharp, as though he were talking about Circle injustice, not the Wardens caring for their own.
"What?” Nathaniel sounded taken aback and, in his reserved way, heartbroken. “No... Anders - “
“Afraid you won't survive without your healer?”
“Well - yes, quite honestly. But that isn't why I came. You are my friend. You are both my friends. I…” He was not good at talking about emotion. Between his family and his strict tutorship under Ser Rodolphe, there was little time for warmth. And yet, in his way, he wore his pain and sincerity openly as his voice strained to keep its composure. “You are not yourself. I did not think you should be alone."
"I'm leaving,” Anders cut across him, voice hard, hurt and decided, turning to do so. “I do not want to be followed. Do not become one more thing I have to run from." Through its sharp demands, the apostate’s voice was almost pleading.
"If you would at least tell me why -"
The mage spun around: "You made me get rid of my cat!"
"What?!" Of all the things Nathaniel expected to have shouted at him right then, this was not one of them. The Warden did a double-take, frowning incredulously at the mage. "You gave him to my nephew! You asked if I thought they'd allow it. You were worried about hi- Wait.” He caught what was happening, almost too late. If there was one thing he had learnt early on about Anders, and had reinforced to him repeatedly, to his increasing frustration, it was that the man deflected. Humour, nonsense, flirtation - whatever would baffle those speaking to him and throw them off the answer they sought. “No - you will not get me this way. Tell the truth to me.” He fixed the mage’s eyes with his own, the gray of the sky meeting the brown of the earth beneath them. “If you are not capable of it, the Spirit must be."
As if on cue, a light crackled over Anders’ skin - a blue lightning, one Nathaniel was used to seeing travel over the body of Kristoff but had never seen on his living friend. He flinched, feeling a chill within him unrelated to the magical storm that continued to beat against them both. So, it was true… He had not doubted it, and yet, it was still hard to believe.
"Your templars,” Anders spat, voice low and level, with an echo to it that had no place on this open hillside. “So many pet templars. Did any of you ever wonder how that would be for me? I was trying to get away from them - they're in our recruits, they’re all over Amaranthine like the Pox -"
"There are a lot of them, I admit,” Nathaniel conceded, reluctantly. He had no keen issue with the Order himself, but no great love of them either, and he knew better than to defend them to the apostate. “But their allegiance has been -"
"Do you know what they put me through?!" The blue light over Anders’ skin flared to a blaze, then abruptly snuffed out, leaving the man beneath looking broken. His voice had wavered and cracked as he’d cried out, a hysteria that he often kept buried rearing its head. There was a wildness in his eyes - a true fear and a pleading for understanding. Nathaniel’s heart broken in upon itself once more, his manner sagging as, carefully, he took a step towards his damaged friend.
"I know...Or, I think I know." His voice was gentle, quieted by respect. And regret. "...I…had to. It was one of her last orders, before she left. You know how she cares for them.”
"She’s mind-washed by them even now,” Anders asserted sullenly, voice dark. “And you by her." Nathaniel went to protest, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Anders scowled, the betrayal deep on his face, but his voice was clipped, his heart kept closed. "Your love for her will always matter more than your regard for me."
"That's - You're being foolish. I was obeying orders."
"Like a sick puppy.”
Again, Nathaniel fell silent. It was all the confirmation Anders needed: his face hardened further, the picture of jaded hurt - an emotion he had carried with him for a long time.
"Face it - she cares more for a lunatic that wants her dead than she'll ever feel for any of us. Why else does she let them overrun us like this? But…she has, and you will not fight her on it. So…I’m done here.”
“By the Maker, Anders.” Creases of pain etched into Nathaniel’s face, his voice restrained and yet also raw. “Come home. We can resolve this. If the templar recruits cross you, I will police it. You know I will always heed your word on that -”
Any remaining patience left Anders’ face. “I’m not discussing this with you. I have to go.” The mage’s voice was flat, resolute. “I have to find Karl.”
Again, Nathaniel did an incredulous double-take, his face an affronted sneer of confusion. This was new. “Who's “Karl”?!”
The mage smiled sadly, something of the man Nathaniel had known shining through - teasing, flirting, softened, yet always distant.
“He's why you and I never got interesting, love,” he smirked, and then, as soon as it had arrived and soothed Nathaniel’s spirit, the smile disappeared once more. “And he’s why I have to go.” Anders turned, not offering another word, and began to walk away.
“ANDERS!” Again, the rogue shouted his name over the wind, this time in a growl of anger. But, he made no pursuit - he did not grab at him or attempt to force him to listen, force him to make sense. He knew that would be a final, cruel injustice after the life his friend had lived. He simply watched in wounded disbelief, his hurt and confusion seething until, finally, melancholic acceptance arrived and reminded him that this was, after all, in keeping with his fortune. This was life - why be surprised by its consistency now?
His father had favoured his brother. Surana had chosen her abdicated prince. There was always someone else.
Nathaniel remained where he had been left and watched until the figure faded entirely from view. He wasn’t sure if he was waiting for something - for a final look back, or for a hoot of laughter and a reveal that this had all been some cruel jest - or if he simply couldn’t bring himself to end this before it must. Finally, however, when the last impression of the mage had vanished and there was no longer any point standing in this cold, he turned his back on the apostate and began the many-day-long journey back to Amaranthine.
He had anticipated to return with company - he had even packed provisions for it. At his side, his wolf padded; the rogue tore scraps of dried meat and dropped it to the creature, to let it know they had found their mark, that it had done well. Mission accomplished…
As the pair stalked back across the Bannorn, the storm about them began, gradually, to dwindle. The more space put between them and the ice-mage, the calmer it fell, until at last, all lay still. Silent. Dull.
Healers and stormthrowers - Nathaniel had known two of them, and both had maimed him as much as they had been a balm. Now, he had neither. The wild hills of the Bannorn suddenly seemed incredibly flat.
Thinking about Hawke was uncomfortable on its own too, and not just because of what he would be giving up in her presence, were she to return.
He'd be lying if he said Anders was the only one whose mind she crossed. Memories of her kiss occasionally resurfaced unbidden: flashes of smoky whiskey and spiced vanilla apple, soft lips and aching silence and every inch of space in between filled with all of the things he didn't want them to have in common.
He couldn't hate her then, and he couldn't hate her now. What he did hate was how much time he spent wondering if she were alright. If she were still alive, if she were happy, if she had moved on from them both into a new life that wasn't so hopelessly twisted and complicated as the messes they'd all made of their own.
This chapter interlude will post this upcoming Friday. ☺️
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.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Anders/Nathaniel Howe
Characters: Anders (Dragon Age), Nathaniel Howe, Male Cousland (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Slice of Life, Horses, Misunderstandings, Awakening!Anders is a menace, terrible flirting, pwp as in "point? what point?"
Summary:
Anders knew how to ride a horse.
The Warden-Commander assumed he did not, and by extension, the entirety of the Warden order, possibly everywhere in Thedas, was under the impression that Anders was the only Fereldan son of a farmer who had never once in his life been on horseback.
Look, look, look. All I'm saying is, we needed more of that same energy from Origins and 2 when the protag had opportunities to have a threesome (and potential foursome in Origins). I'm not even gonna look at Inquisition because as much as I love that game, a lot of the mature content felt kind of watered-down(?) in comparison to the two previous games. Anyways, all of this to say that the option should have definitely been there with Anders, Nathaniel, and Hawke.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Anders would do anything to keep this, to have this, to be this, but it’s not his to have, to be, to keep.
or
Hawke agrees to look for a missing Warden, and Anders gets back what he once lost.
