Chapter Text
Trident.
"You know, I've never actually been to an ocean before," Anders says.
Hawke looks up from the set of armor in his lap, Corsair logo stubborn and only halfway scrubbed off. It's not like he can send fake reports back anymore anyway; the secret's out. Anders' hair is loose, ruffling in the sea breeze, and he's curling his bare toes in the sand as the surf washes over them.
"That's kind of ironic, isn't it?" Hawke replies, squinting up at him.
"Hm?"
"Ocean planet."
"Oh." Anders doesn't look away from the horizon, but Hawke can see the small smile on his face, such a nice departure from the scowls and biotic fury that have to have him halfway to wrinkles by now. Everything around them feels alive, the noise and color of life rippling through the air and the water, like the ocean is excited just to be here. Even Anders' migraines are gone, at least so far.
"It's like a private oasis," Anders murmurs. "Our oasis, I suppose." Finally he rips his gaze from the ocean and looks over at Hawke. The bright white sun frames him like a glossy golden halo, and a droplet of sweat beads down his shirt.
"I know we can't stay long--”
"Nonsense," Hawke says, shoving the armor off his lap and ignoring the creak in his knee as he stands. Damn, but he misses the Alliance lattice shunting upgrades.
That's about all he misses.
He pads up behind Anders and slips his arms around his waist, then tucks his head against Anders' sun-warm shoulder. It chases the chill of space from his bones. "We clear the pirate bodies out of the lodge, disable the radios, lift some aspirin out of the pharmacies for you--it'll be at least an extended vacation."
Anders makes a face, but it slips into a laugh. "With all this humidity, they're probably starting to bloat, aren’t they?"
Hawke kisses his neck. "It'll be absolutely disgusting."
*