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It was dark, cold and faintly wet, because nothing ever got completely dry in Kirkwall's outer limits. or in it's inner limits, for that matter thought Hawke bitterly. The job had been simple enough; a drop off on the Wounded Coast sometime after sunset. He hadn't the heart to force any of his wayward companions to come with him. And so he was, the lone soul on Kirkwall's battered shore.
Or maybe not. In the distance, the unmistakable glow of a campfire. A big one at that, and the smell of burning flesh. Hawke tensed; it was probably a bandit camp, and it was right in his path. He'd have to surprise them, and hopefully be quick enough with his magic to take them out before they got a good look at his face and ran to tell the Templars...
Damn my tragically soft heart.
Manipulating ambient mana to muffle his movement, Hawke stepped carefully forward. Best to take stock of the situation before rushing in, as his father used to say.
There was only one man. And, as luck would have it, he hadn't inherited the bloodlust his dear brother had, because his moments hesitation let him ascertain that this was a familiar man.
Anders.
"Hawke!" Seems like he would've been caught, anyway. "I thought I heard something disturbing the fade out there. Thought it was more possessed corpses."
I almost blasted you straight to the void. "Ha. Nice to see you too. Is that what you're burning, then?" Hawke gestured to Anders' impressive corpse bonfire.
"Ah. Some of them. Some are patients who... I couldn't do anything for." He paused, frowning, "The ones who didn't have family to take care of the body."
"Oh." Hawke could feel the mood dropping; melencholy seemed to follow Anders around relentlessly. It only made him more determined to make the man smile. "You couldn't just dump them outside, or something? A traditional Kirkwall burial."
That joke was maybe a bit much, but it was was all he had. Blame his impulsiveness on this crush he'd been nurturing since their initial meeting.
The Maker smiled on him tonight, and so did Anders give him a small grin, which was just as good. Better. "I would, you know. But I know who'll have to deal with it when they get possessed and start causing havoc."
"Aw. Always looking out for me."
"I meant you'd drag me along with you!"
"You love it," Hawke smiled, and tried not to think of too many sentences with 'love' and 'Anders' in them. The stench of burning hair kept him grounded, but only just.
"So... what brings you out here all alone? Or do I not want to know?" Anders leaned forward, eyes wide and heart on his sleeve, as always.
"Nothing too exciting. A little exciting, and a little illegal, but not too illegal." Hawke shrugged, "Just some drop off. Wasn't worth getting any of you involved."
"You could've been ambushed!" Anders began gesturing indignantly, "You should've brought at least one person with you. "
Hawke couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped. "Says you, all alone on the Wounded Coast with your suspicious corpse pile. Didn't even need a lookout?"
Anders got that distant look he had sometimes. "I'm never truly alone"
Right. The Justice thing.
"Well," Hawke wouldn't be deterred, "You've still only one pair of eyes between you. If you'd told me, we could've come together. Made it a date.'
"This is your idea of a date?" Anders eyebrow rose impressively. The fire was dying, and those in it were dead, turned to ash. The wind dodged easily around the embers warmth and chilled then to the bone.
"Sure. It's cosy. Just you and me, under the stars."
Anders shook his head, but he was smiling, and he hadn't tried to warn Hawke off yet. As he turned his head, his blonde hair caught the moonlight, and he looked beautiful the way he did when Justice breached the surface.
All in all, a good night.
"I should return soon." Said Anders, breaking the moment.
"To sleep, I hope." Sometimes Anders favoured a corpse himself, all messy hair and eyebags. But like a sexy corpse.
"Hmm." Replied Anders, a perfectly neutral hum that definitely implied he was not going to sleep. "You should get back, too. It's late."
It was a bad sign, that his blatant hypocrisy was endearing to Hawke now. Ah well. It was hard to care, looking into those warm brown eyes.
"Can I walk you home? I think we're going the same way." Hawke held out his hand. Anders didn't take it, but they walked closely in silence back to the City of Chains.