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William Hawke made his way to Darktown, a basket of bread in his hand. It was late, and he hoped the healer wouldn’t be busy but would still be awake. He’d been thinking about Anders all day; what he’d witnessed the night before at the Chantry was terrible, and he couldn’t imagine how the apostate must have been feeling. He couldn’t resist the urge to check on him.
The lantern wasn’t lit when he arrived; the clinic wasn’t open, then. Was the healer even in? He hesitated for a moment, but then decided to try knocking. As he approached the door, though, he heard an odd noise. Frowning, he crept closer; he hoped nothing was wrong. Finally, a low, keening sob told him someone was crying.
Was it Anders himself? Or a particularly bad-off patient? He wondered if the healer was hurt. Making up his mind, he knocked softly on the door. He heard a choked gasp and the sound of scrambling.
“The clinic’s closed,” Anders’ thick voice called. “And if you’re a Templar, I’ll blast you before you can walk through the door.” He sounded determined but highly upset, and William’s heart clenched.
“Anders?” he called quietly. “It’s just me, William Hawke.” There was a pause.
“Oh,” Anders answered, and William heard a hearty sniffle. “Er – I – “
“Should I come back later?” William asked through the door. “I don’t mean to bother you.”
“No,” Anders said. “No. You’re…alone?”
“I am,” William confirmed. He heard a latch being undone on the other side of the door, and then it opened, revealing Anders standing with his staff at the ready. “I’m not going to attack you,” William said with a half-smile. “Promise.” Anders darted a look around behind William, making sure he was alone.
“Come in,” Anders said, sniffling again. “I’m sorry to be suspicious, I just – “
“No, you’re right to be,” William nodded, walking in and shutting the door behind him. “You hardly know me, after all.”
“What – what are you doing here?” Anders asked, and William saw him turn away and wipe at his eyes. “Are you hurt? Do you need something?”
“No,” William said, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “I…well, I wanted to check on you, if I’m honest,” he admitted.
“Check on me?” Anders asked blankly, then frowning. “Assume I’ve resorted to demons?”
“No,” William said with a small chuckle. “I realize last night was difficult for you. I wanted to see if you were doing all right. And…I’m sure a charity healer in Darktown doesn’t get as much to eat as he ought to,” he added, holding up the basket. Anders just stared at the man for a moment.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Anders admitted. “What is it you wanted?” William blushed in the dim light.
“To see if you needed…a friend,” William confessed. “I realize I hardly know you, but – well. What happened with your friend Karl…I just…” he trailed off, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry. This sounds ridiculous. I just know how I would feel if that happened to my sister, and I – “
“That’s…very kind of you, Hawke,” Anders said. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Hawke asked gently, stepping toward the mage. “It’s okay if you aren’t, you know.” He handed the basket to Anders. “At least have something to eat.”
“I – well – yes, food would probably be a good idea,” Anders agreed. “Thank you, Hawke.”
“You can call me William,” he smiled.
“William,” Anders replied with a twitch of his lips that might have been the beginning of a smile; he couldn’t be sure. “Do you want to stay and…share this?”
“I hoped you might ask that,” William said happily.
“Come this way.” Anders led William through the clinic to a place behind a screen, where he saw the mage had a bed set up. The sheets were as ratty as anything else in the place, and there was no proper blanket; this didn’t really surprise William much.
“Home sweet home?” William asked teasingly, and Anders smiled a little.
“Not as fancy as Lowtown, I know,” he replied, motioning for William to join him on the bed. William sat, the bread basket between them, and took a piece for himself as Anders did the same.
The two ate in companionable silence for a time; William took his time with his own roll, not intending to eat all the food he brought for the mage. He didn’t want to push Anders, but it seemed the man did want company; he could provide that, if nothing else.
“I’m a little surprised I didn’t scare you away, last time we talked,” Anders finally spoke up after a while. “I got a bit weighty. Sorry for putting that on you.”
“Hey, nothing to worry about,” William said easily. “You can tell me anything.”
“Anything?” Anders asked with a small laugh. “Be careful what you offer.” There was a strange sadness behind the laugh that William didn’t quite understand. “I just…I hope I didn’t seem too selfish when I told you about Justice.”
“Of course you didn’t,” William said, surprised. “You were trying to help your friend. There was nothing selfish about it.”
“You’re too kind,” Anders said, shaking his head. “But…thank you.” He brushed off his hands on his coat, glancing into the basket. “Oh. I didn’t mean to eat so much of your food,” he said, reddening a little. “I’m sorry. You can take the rest back.”
“No,” William said quickly. “Please. I brought it for you. We get enough. It’s yours.”
“Hawke, I couldn’t – “ Anders protested, but William shook his head, cutting him off.
“It’s William,” he reminded the mage with a small smile, “and I insist.”
“Thank you,” Anders said softly, hardly able to believe his ears. A few more silent moments passed.
“Do you…want to talk?” William finally asked. “I mean…about…well, anything.”
“I…” Anders trailed off, taking a deep breath. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I think I’d like that.”
“I’m sure,” William said firmly. “Please, go on.” Anders seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment, then spoke.
“Growing up in the Circle,” he began, “everything is about order and rules and the Templars. The apprentices…we found ways to make that bearable. Karl and I…” The mage’s voice broke, but he continued. “He was the first. We could forget that out in the world, we were nothing but Templar slaves. We hadn’t been together for a long time. But still…it hurt.”
“You…and Karl?” William asked, feeling a deep pang of sympathy. The man he’d been forced to kill had been his lover?
“Yes,” Anders choked out. “He…he made it so much better, Karl did. When I had him, it was like…like the rest didn’t matter as much.” He broke off then, unable to control himself. Hawke almost wanted to cry himself; how terrible the mage must feel. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted desperately to comfort the other man. He moved next to Anders, putting his arm around the mage’s shoulders and squeezing them gently.
“I’m so sorry,” William murmured.
“I can’t believe Karl is d-dead,” Anders wept. “And…at my hand.” The mage’s sobs were tugging at his heart.
“You only did as he wanted,” William soothed. “What choice did you have?”
“I should have come to Kirkwall sooner,” Anders choked. “I should’ve done better. Been smarter. Faster. I don’t…I don’t know.” To William’s surprise, the next moment the mage was clinging to him as though desperate for comfort. He wrapped his arms around the man, holding him steady as Anders sobbed into his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” William whispered, rubbing the mage’s back. He wished he was better at comforting people. Bethany would probably know what to say. But this was all he could think to do. “I’m so sorry, Anders.” He sat there holding the mage, whispering things about being sorry and wishing he could help and feeling utterly helpless and stupid. He felt the front of his shirt become soaked through, but he didn’t care. He’d never witnessed anyone in this state before, and already he cared about the mage; he wanted to do something.
“I’m sorry,” Anders sniffled sometime later, finally pulling back slightly. “I shouldn’t have presumed – “
“It’s fine,” William said, pushing stray hair back off the mage’s wet face. “Don’t apologize. I told you I’m here.”
“I shouldn’t have…lost it like that,” Anders said thickly, wiping at his eyes. “I just put all this on you, it was unfair…”
“Stop protesting, please,” William said with a weak smile. “I don’t mind at all. I just…wish I were a bit better at this.”
“You…you have been kinder than I have any reason to expect,” Anders murmured thickly. “I thank you.”
“I’m just sorry you had to go through that,” William said. “I can’t believe…you and Karl…”
“I’ve always believed people fall in love with a whole person, not just a body,” Anders said defensively. “Why would you shy away from loving someone just because they’re like you? Does it really bother you that I’ve been with men?”
“What?” William asked, startled. “No, of course not! That isn’t what I meant at all. I’m glad you were with him. I mean – shit,” he said, shaking his head. “That came out wrong. Look. I’ve been with men, too. I just think it’s terrible that you were lovers and you had to…do that. That’s…all I meant.” He blew out a breath. “I’m terrible at this.”
“You aren’t,” Anders said. He hadn’t moved away from William, and the rogue was happy to keep his arms around the mage. “I’m sorry I misunderstood.”
“I meant it when I said you could tell me anything, Anders,” William said softly. “I’m not going to turn around and judge you for it.”
“You might take that back once you’ve heard me go on about the plight of the mages for the millionth time,” Anders said, trying to be joking but sounding bitter all the same.
“Well, I’ll just have to find out for myself when one million rolls around,” William said lightly. Anders snorted.
“Everyone else thinks I’m crazy, it’s all right,” Anders said, shaking his head. “You don’t have to humor me.”
“I’m not,” William protested. “I’m serious. My father was a Circle mage, but he didn’t talk about it all that much. Bethany’s never been in the Circle. We had to run a lot, sure, but I’ve had a fairly privileged view of what it’s like to be a mage. The fact that they made your…Karl…Tranquil just to capture you tells me enough to know it’s not just you being crazy or something.”
“That’s not usually the response I get,” Anders commented, and without seeming to think about it, leaned his head on William’s shoulder. “It’s all the bloody Templars,” he said, his sigh a mix of angry and tired. “They don’t see us as people. They don’t care that Karl was someone’s son…someone’s lover.” His tone became harsher as he went on. “If you’re born with magic, they hear about it. They search your little rat-spit village and find you. They tell your parents they’ll be thrown in prison if they ever ask about you, stripped of their rights in the eyes of the Maker. And if you run away, they hunt you down, again and again and again.” His voice was a low growl now, and to William’s surprise, he began to glow slightly.
“You’re…ah…getting glowy again,” William said awkwardly. Anders jerked away from him as though he’d been burned.
“Right,” Anders said, flustered. “Sorry. I – “
“Stop apologizing for everything,” William said kindly. “It’s all right. Just…surprising.”
“I can hardly believe you’re not sprinting for the door,” Anders said, shaking his head. He retreated to the other side of the bed and wrapped his arms around himself, looking upset again. “You saw me in the Chantry. What I become. What I do.”
“Well, it was rather justified,” William shrugged. “Though it’s probably best if you calm down a little here, at least.”
“Yes,” Anders agreed. “I – I will.” He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. Hawke missed having the man in his arms, but didn’t dare push him – he didn’t want to upset him further, or end up the focus of Justice’s ire.
“Is there anything else you want to say? To get out?” William finally asked. “Not to push or anything, but…I’m still willing to listen.” Anders shook his head disbelievingly as he looked over at William.
“There I go, getting weighty again,” Anders sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just…we’ve hardly met, and I already feel like I know you. And so many refuse to even listen to me…”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that from me,” William said firmly. “I’ll listen. And anyway…I want to be your friend, Anders,” he added. “I promise you, I’m not bothered with you going on like this to me. I like getting to know you.” His heart fluttered when Anders offered him a bigger smile than he had all night, though it still wasn’t much.
“Andraste’s words,” Anders said thoughtfully, “were that magic must not rule over man. But it is not ruling to simply wish for the same rights as any man. But I shouldn’t say that too loudly,” he added with a soft sigh. “I don’t want you hurt just for knowing me.”
“I’ll risk it,” William said, and moved to sit beside Anders again, though he didn’t put his arm back around the mage. “You’re right, though, you know. My father didn’t escape the Circle because it was a basket of fun, I know that much. I’m going to assume you didn’t have the best experience, either. It’s not right to treat you badly just because you’re a mage.”
“You’re amazing,” Anders said in disbelief. “I hardly know anyone who thinks that way. Aside from my own patients.”
“Well, I already knew and loved an apostate long before I met you, remember?” William said with a half-smile. “Father wanted Bethany kept from the Circle for a reason.” Anders yawned all of a sudden, shivering slightly at the end of it. “You’re exhausted,” William pointed out. “You should get some sleep.” Anders snorted softly.
“As though I could sleep,” he said, shaking his head. “All I see is Karl, with that brand on his forehead. I can’t…I don’t have words for how that felt.” He sighed. “Besides. It’s too cold.”
“You should lie down, at least,” William suggested. “Be more comfortable. We could still talk, if that will help.” With another huge yawn, Anders relented.
“All right,” he nodded, and settled down onto the bed. “You’re being far too kind, you know. You’ve only just met me.”
“Well, maybe I feel like I already know you, too,” William said with a small smile, which Anders returned.
“I’ve talked about myself enough tonight, I think,” Anders said, closing his eyes as his head settled on a red pillow. It looked like the nicest thing in the clinic; William wondered where he’d gotten it, but didn’t want to push more right then. “What about you? I know you’re a refugee. Not much more than that.”
“All right,” William smiled, happy to talk if it would make the mage feel better. He sat down on the ground beside the bed; it wasn’t far off the ground anyway, so he leaned his arm on it so he could still see the mage. “Well, we were in Lothering…”
William told Anders of his family, of making sure to stay away from the Templars, of Bethany – he left out Carver for the moment, because there had been enough sadness for the evening. As William talked, his hand on the bed beside the mage, he felt the blond’s fingers brush his own. The rogue didn’t mention it, but pulled Anders’ hand more firmly into his own. He’d give him that comfort, if he needed it.
Anders listened attentively for a time, then suddenly William heard the softest of snores. He glanced up and realized the mage was, despite his previous protests, asleep. William couldn’t help a smile at that; perhaps he’d been able to help after all.
The rogue started to get up to leave, but as soon as he tried to pull his hand away, the mage whimpered softly and clutched at it, though he didn’t wake.
Well.
There was no way William Hawke was going to let go of the mage’s hand now.
He tried to make himself comfortable, leaning against the bed with his hand intertwined with Anders’. William liked to joke, and he wasn’t always good at saying the right thing all the time, but he had always had a soft heart – and there was something about the mage, something that made him want to look out for him.
Eventually, William fell asleep too – fingers still intertwined with Anders’, and not minding the discomfort of leaning against the bed.
*****
Anders awoke slowly, light filtering through his high windows just enough to tell him it was morning. He felt rather well-rested for a change, though he could feel Justice disapproving a little. How long had he slept?
The mage moved to stretch, but realized he couldn’t move his hand. Glancing down in concern, he saw lightly tanned fingers wrapped in his own pale ones. His gaze traveled farther down the bed, settling on…
“William Hawke,” Anders murmured softly, shocked. The rogue was holding his hand, and had clearly fallen asleep on the floor with his head resting on the bed. It couldn’t be remotely comfortable. He’d expected the rogue to be gone when he woke up; what had made him stay?
He frowned then. Maybe William hadn’t trusted him. It would explain the hand-holding – letting William know if the mage became an abomination in the night. Anders rolled his eyes, weary of the distrust of mages, but he couldn’t blame the man. No one else would’ve trusted him, either.
“William,” Anders said, keeping his voice soft as he shook the rogue gently. “Wake up.” The brown-haired man blinked, looking around groggily.
“Anders?” he asked thickly, then groaned. “Oh, shit.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Anders said dryly, pulling his hand away. “I didn’t succumb to demons in the night.” William looked at him in confusion.
“That’s…good?” William shook his head slightly, then winced. His neck hurt terribly. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Anders, I didn’t mean to sleep here, I shouldn’t have done this. Ow,” he finished with a groan, massaging his neck.
“You…didn’t?” Anders asked, cocking an eyebrow. “So you weren’t staying here to make sure I didn’t become an abomination?”
“What? No,” William said, brow furrowed. “Of course not. You fell asleep while I was talking, and…” he trailed off, cheeks reddening. “When I tried to leave, you were holding my hand. I didn’t…want to make you let go.”
Anders felt a huge rush of affection as he processed the rogue’s words. He’d stayed – because he wanted Anders to be comfortable? He could hardly fathom it, really. Who would care that much about someone they hardly knew?
“So you slept like that all night?” Anders asked, keeping his voice light. William chuckled sheepishly.
“I guess I did,” he said. “Bit of a mistake, that.” He tried to crack his neck and groaned again.
“Here,” Anders said, quickly getting up off the bed. “Sit down. I’ll fix it.” William dragged himself up onto the bed and Anders put his hands on the rogue’s neck, rubbing it gently and working out the kinks with a faint hint of healing magic pulsing through his fingers.
“Maker,” William groaned in pleasure, closing his eyes. Anders swallowed, trying to control himself – that sound shouldn’t have aroused him like it did.
“Better?” Anders asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
“Loads,” William sighed pleasantly. “Thank you.”
“I ought to be thanking you,” Anders said, pulling away. “The kindness you have shown me is beyond anything I could have imagined. Thank you, William.” The rogue turned to smile at Anders, and the mage’s knees weakened.
This was not good.
“I didn’t do much,” William shrugged, cheeks pink, though he was pleased. “Did you manage to sleep well?”
“I did,” Anders said, fussing with his clothes and straightening them. He was afraid he’d say something stupid if he kept looking at the rogue.
“I ought to be getting back,” William said then. “Before Mother thinks I’ve run away.”
“Right,” Anders nodded. “I – if there’s anything I can do for you, in return – “
“You owe me nothing, my friend,” William smiled, putting a hand on Anders’ shoulder. “But if I need you, I’ll let you know.” He straightened his own clothes, then headed for the door.
“Are you sure you don’t want the rest of this?” Anders asked, indicating the basket of bread. “I really don’t need – “
“I’m sure,” William said. “Eat some. Take care of yourself.”
“Then once again, I thank you,” Anders said. “I’ll – I’ll see you, William.”
“See you,” William grinned, leaving the clinic. Anders watched him go, a pang of longing hitting him before a wave of disapproval. He knew that was Justice.
“I know, I know,” he muttered softly. “I won’t.” But thoughts of the rogue’s charming smile stuck with him throughout the day.
*****
Anders collapsed into bed that night, exhausted after a busier-than-usual day. He’d hoped he might have seen William Hawke again, but the man never came by – not that he would have had time to say much.
He felt very strange after the previous night. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had shown him such kindness, especially with no expectation for return. Even the Warden Commander, friendly as she’d been, wasn’t really one for “being nice to be nice”. He felt guilty, somehow – as though he’d taken advantage of William’s kindness. Like he never should have put so much on the man – surely he had his own problems (who in Kirkwall didn’t?) and didn’t need more. At the same time…he really hoped the rogue might come back.
Tired as he was, it took him a while to notice that there was a strange lump at the foot of his bed. Dragging himself back to a sitting position, he reached for it, finally realizing it was a blanket. A little ratty, but it was a fine cloth and seemed well-cared for. It certainly smelled clean. How in Andraste’s name had that gotten here? He unfolded it curiously, and a note fell out, the messy handwriting a little difficult to read.
Anders,
I know it isn’t much, but it’s clean and it’s warm. My mother made it for me when I was younger. I hope it makes your cold nights a little more bearable. And don’t even think of giving it back to me - it’s a gift.
-William Hawke
Anders stared at the note open-mouthed for a full minute before he could manage to comprehend the words properly, and even then he was sure he misunderstood.
What was the rogue thinking? Anders didn’t deserve anything like this! Surely he must expect something in return, but the mage couldn’t for the life of him think what it might be. The rogue had only ever asked one thing of him, and that was for the maps he had – but he’d already given them.
And how had the rogue gotten it in without being seen, anyway? It wasn’t that surprising, Anders supposed, with how busy he’d been. William probably hadn’t even had to sneak past him, distracted as he was.
Well, he’d just have to give the thing back to William in the morning, that was all. It didn’t matter what the note said – he couldn’t accept anything so generous as this.
Although…it was quite soft, and would certainly be warm. And it smelled so good…
He wasn’t going to go bother the man this time of night, anyway, Anders reasoned, spreading out the blanket over him. What would it hurt to use it, just this one night?
The mage fell asleep cocooned in warmth, a scent he was already associating with Hawke filling his nose, pretty brown eyes filling his mind.