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It was the flirting. The damn flirting, which did not seem to be leading anywhere. And Hawke wanted it to lead somewhere. He liked Anders, a lot. More than he tried to let on (Isabela and Varric knew. Of course they knew.)
Hawke had experience flirting, had experience with flings, but he had moved around too much in his younger days to build much of a relationship. The men and women of Fereldan came and went, and he continued that in Kirkwall during his first year. Maybe he kept thinking he was bound to move on, even as Leandra insisted this was their home now. At this point she was right, he had a damn mansion. So, now that Hawke knew he wasn’t going anywhere, he wanted to settle down. With Anders, preferably.
Hawke grinned roguishly as Anders bandaged a cut on his arm after a battle. He insisted Anders save his mana for more serious injuries or if their trip to the Wounded Coast turned to violence once more.
“If you were a sensible mage,” Anders muttered, “you would stay in the back with me.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Also, you don’t always stay in the back either. Especially in the Deep Roads.”
“Don’t remind me of how I followed you into the bloody Deep Roads,” Anders shook his head, but smiled. “You’re not quite cute enough for that. Almost, but…”
The flirting, again.
“I’m adorable,” Hawke replied, trying to play off how much this warmed his heart. “I’d say I’m worth at least ten darkspawn.”
“Ten darkspawn, sure, but not the Deep Roads.”
“So how do I get cute enough to be worth the Deep Roads? Where should I improve?” Hawke flexed a muscular arm and winked, which did make Anders look away bashfully.
“Well, your physique certainly doesn’t need work,” Anders mused. “I think it’s impossible. No one is cute enough to be worth the Deep Roads.”
“Hate to agree, Hawke,” came Isabela’s voice. Oh. She had overheard all that. “I will say though, a night with you certainly came close. Maybe that would change your mind, Anders?”
Anders chuckled, a flush visible on his cheeks. He was so damn pale he couldn’t hide it.
“I think I’m a little busy for that,” was what he ended up saying. With that, he went to check on Varric.
“No one’s too busy to get busy,” Isabela told Hawke, shaking his head. “If you’re gonna fuck him, do it soon? He needs to relax.”
“I’m trying,” Hawke muttered before thinking. Isabela grinned wickedly.
“I think you’re trying to do more than that,” Isabela leaned in close to whisper, “I think you’re trying to woo him.”
Now Hawke was the one whose face was heating up. “What gives you that idea?”
Isabela snorted in response. “Only the uh…everything. Seriously Hawke, I don’t have all day to recount every behavior you’ve ever displayed around that man. It’s adorable, really.”
“I don’t think he wants to be wooed,” Hawke replied.
“Then why keep trying?”
“I don’t know!” Hawke exclaimed, then lowered his voice when Anders and Varric briefly looked over. “It just keeps happening. He flirts, then I flirt. Or I flirt, then he flirts back. I know he likes flirting, but I don’t think he wants romance.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Isabela said confidently. “He cares for you so much, and you for him. I would say Varric should write you into a book but he’s already doing that.”
“I don’t know, Isabela,” Hawke sighed. His mood was a little lower now. He was starting to get honest. “I can’t stop wanting him. I guess all I can do is be there for him as a friend, until these feelings go away.”
Isabela, also uncharacteristically serious, put a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll all work out, one way or another.” Hawke wasn’t so sure.
________________________________
Hawke couldn’t help but remember Isabela’s words, especially now when he wasn’t sure how anything would work out at all.
They had found the Templar Alrik, they had saved the girl. Anders had almost killed the girl. He had run after that, and Hawke followed as soon as he knew the girl was safe. He later found Anders slowly unpacking his one trunk of possessions, still covered in blood and injuries from the fight.
“You need to heal yourself,” Hawke said, making Anders startled. He whipped around, then sagged when he saw Hawke.
“You should leave,” Anders told him, expression blank. He almost looked tranquil, and that thought sent a shiver through Hawke. Hawke did the opposite of leaving, he walked forward and knelt down with Anders. He held out his hand close to a cut on Anders’ cheek and used the only healing magic he knew.
“I’m not a good enough healer for whatever’s bleeding through your coat,” Hawke told him quietly. “Please, heal yourself.”
“Can’t use any more magic, can’t risk…what if he hurts you…” Anders said, blank again. He tried to go back to unpacking his trunk, but Hawke placed hands on his shoulders and kept him facing Hawke.
“Anders,” Hawke said, softly. “I don’t like telling you what to do, but I will this once. Heal yourself.”
Anders paused before responding, and his response was only a nod. His shaking hands glowed blue and he pressed one to his side.
“Good,” Hawke said, just managing to smile. “Now let’s get you cleaned up. You’re covered in blood.”
“No time,” Anders replied. “I’m leaving.”
“What?”
“I’m leaving Kirkwall. It’s the only way. I need to go somewhere I can’t hurt anyone.”
Hawke felt a chill pass through him. No way in the void was he letting Anders be on his own, specially with a statement like that. He could just mean living in isolation, but Hawke remembered something Anders once asked Fenris. He asked him if he had ever considered killing himself. Hawke had been concerned by that question at the time, but felt it wasn’t his place.
So no, Hawke was not leaving Anders alone.
“You’re not going to leave. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” Hawke tried to speak gently, but firmly.
“I should be alone forever, Hawke,” Anders said.
“No,” Hawke said with more conviction than he meant to show. “No, I won’t allow that.”
Anders just stared. He didn’t say anything.
“Come here,” Hawke said, standing up and extending a hand. Anders slowly took it, standing next to Hawke. Hawke led him to a bench and gestured for him to sit. He then got a basin and filled it with water by creating ice then melting it.
“This is cold,” Hawke said, dipping a cloth in the water. “Sorry.”
Anders didn’t respond.
Hawke sat on the bench next to Anders and carefully cleaned the blood from his face, one hand coming up to cup his cheek to steady him. Anders didn’t resist, looking utterly vacant.
Hawke then took Anders’ coat, and told him to take off his outer layers of clothing so that Hawke could clean away all the blood. This was the closest Hawke had come to seeing Anders naked, and he could not be enjoying himself less.
Anders was skinny, very skinny. He had a light dusting of blond hair on his chest, but that didn’t cover a large scar on his breast. Hawke tried not to stare openly. He couldn’t imagine a wound there that would look like that… a wound like that which wouldn’t be fatal.
“How’d this happen,” Hawke asked, trying to get Anders to say something.
Anders took a moment to respond.
“From when I left the Wardens. I became an abomination, so they tried to kill me.”
“You’re not an abomination,” Hawke said immediately.
“Yes I am,” Anders replied succinctly.
Hawke didn’t know what to say. He had nothing to say other than “no.” A simple “no” wouldn’t convince Anders.
“Then I don’t care if you are,” Hawke settled on saying. This got some kind of reaction out of Anders, but Hawke couldn’t quite read his expression.
Anders shook his head. “You’re foolish.”
“Not about you,” Hawke replied. “Everything else? Maybe.”
“Please leave, Hawke,” Anders said. He had emotion in his voice now, but that emotion was defeat.
Now Hawke shook his head. “No. Sorry I keep saying that, but…no. I’m not leaving until you feel better.”
A single tear slid down Anders’ cheek. “Then you’ll be here a long time. I shouldn’t be okay, I’m a monster. Everyone was right, I was a fool and I’m dangerous.”
“I’m also a fool who is dangerous,” Hawke argued. “All mages can be dangerous. Doesn’t mean you can’t…be happy. Here, let me keep cleaning the blood away.”
Anders nodded, slipping back into his own mind. Hawke had a feeling he wouldn’t come out for a bit. So Hawke kept wiping the blood away, then started to wash his clothes. All the while, Anders stared blankly at the wall.
Hawke led Anders to his cot next. “Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll keep watch of the clinic.”
“Why are you doing all this for me?” Anders asked, sitting on the cot but not lying down. Hawke wrapped the blankets around his shoulders, his hands lingering longer than a friend’s should.
“Because you’re my friend,” Hawke lied. He must not have sounded convincing.
“You’re a better liar than that,” Anders replied.
“Look,” Hawke said, letting out a long sigh. “You’re in no state to hear what I have to say. You can’t even accept that I like you, much less…never mind.”
Anders let out what might have been a laugh. “Bloody void, Hawke…” he muttered. “Just because you want to sleep with me doesn’t mean you have to put up with all this.”
Hawke’s heart skipped a beat. “Is that what you think this is?” he asked, agast.
Anders looked away. “...I know you want to have sex with me, Hawke. You’re pretty obvious.”
“I want more than that, Anders,” Hawke said. “And you know what, I think you know that too. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way.”
Anders laughed again, crying now. “This is all so… this is so stupid. I do feel the same, Hawke. I feel the same but you can’t be with me like this. Not when I’m an abomination failing to further a hopeless cause. I’m not fit to fight for mages, I’m not fit to be anyone’s lover.”
“I don’t give a damn,” Hawke said, voice hard. “Look…We shouldn’t be having this conversation now. Not because you’re a monster, but because you’re vulnerable. You nearly went catatonic earlier.”
Anders held his head in his hands, still crying softly. After a moment he looked up. “That part of my life is over, Hawke.”
“Please get some sleep. It’ll all feel better in the morning.”
Anders looked at him dubiously, but in the end he laid down and curled the blankets around himself.
“You’re not leaving Kirkwall,” Hawke told the room, both himself and Anders. “We’ll find a way for you to live with Justice. We’ll make this better.”
Anders didn’t respond.
___________________________________
Hawke was clearly bad at keeping watch, because he startled awake as he leaned against the wall. Frantically, he looked around at the cot. Anders was still here, sitting up and looking in his direction.
“You’re still here.”
“You didn’t want me to leave,” Anders responded. He still seemed devoid of any spark, but not emotionless. “I would be gone otherwise.”
“...I’m glad you hold me in such high regard,” Hawke chuckled.
“You know what I think of you now.”
Right. Last night, that conversation did happen.
“And you know what I think of you,” said Hawke. “You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to make any decisions now.”
Anders frowned, and got up from his cot. He walked over, then knelt beside Hawke.
“You’re the one bright light in Kirkwall,” he said. “It’s no decision at all. If you want me to stay…”
Anders leaned in and kissed Hawke, and Hawke kissed back. It was a slow kiss, a cautious one.
“If you’re sure you want me, all that I am… I’ll be at your house tonight. Leave the cellar unlocked, and I’ll know your answer. I need some time to clean my robes, and you need time to consider.”
“I don’t,” Hawke insisted.
“For my sake, please. I can’t in good conscience be with you if you don’t really think about what it would mean. I’m a danger, more so than you are.”
“Okay,” Hawke conceded. “As long as you don’t leave, I’ll go. If…if you leave Kirkwall I’ll be furious.”
Hawke was anxious, trying not to show it.
“I promise you,” Anders told him. “I’m just selfish enough to want to stay for you.”
“You’re not-”
Anders kissed him again, then backed away. “See you tonight, Hawke.”
So Hawke left, and he waited that night. He left the door unlocked, and Anders arrived. It was almost surreal for Hawke, finally getting what he desperately wanted.
______________________________________
The relationship was blossoming, at least until Hawke became Champion of Kirkwall. Anders became more distant, worried for Hawke even more than he had before. Hawke now had to deal with nobles throwing awful parties, had to deal with not embarrassing his family name with all this new scrutiny placed upon him. It was exhausting.
It would have been better with Anders there, and he had invited him many times. Every time, he refused.
“I’m not suited to those kinds of events,” he would say. Or “you might not want to be seen with another man, it would dissuade families from trying to win your favor for a political marriage.”
“I’m not getting married,” Hawke had said, somewhat exasperated. “I’m with you.”
“You still want to seem desirable, so the nobles think they can get something from you.”
“That’s the problem…” Hawke had muttered to himself on the way home. “Everyone wants something from me…not an honest one in the bunch in Hightown.”
Anders wouldn’t even go out to dinner with him if the establishment was too extravagant. Hawke wanted to treat Anders to the fine life. He loved Anders, he wanted to spoil him. Anders just refused to be spoiled.
“Do you think it’s some kind of…principle?” Hawke had asked Varric one night at the Hanged Man.
“Maybe,” said Varric. “Maybe he just doesn’t like the stink of wealth. Around Hightown it does have an…odor.”
“He lives alone in a sewer,” Hawke sighed. “He should indulge at least a little bit. What good is me having to deal with all this Hightown shit if I can’t even enjoy the wealth with my lover?”
“Enjoying the wealth on your own?” Varric suggested, half joking. “Nah, I know you’re too giving to enjoy wealth when you can’t share it. You’re constantly giving out coin to our friends, in addition to helping them with their every desire.”
“Hey,” said Hawke, “you try saying no to Merrill. She’s got this look with the big eyes.”
Varric chuckled. “What about Fenris? Does he have the big eyes too?”
“...No,” Hawke admitted. “Okay, maybe I do like giving people things. So what? I didn’t have a lot as a kid, so now that I have stuff…I want to share it.”
“This is why you’re the hero,” said Varric.
“I’m not a hero, I’m a guy who wants to take his boyfriend to a fancy restaurant.”
Hawke’s relationship frustrations bled into his conversations with other friends too, chatty as Hawke was. Isabela suggested a dozen lewd ideas, then admitted she didn’t really do relationships so she had no idea how they worked. Merrill earnestly pulled out a piece of parchment and started actually writing down ideas, saying Hawke should try the same.
“It helps me gather my thoughts. And if you have a list, then you can check off what you’ve tried!” All her ideas involved just asking Anders, but Hawke somehow thought that wouldn’t work. He had tried asking Anders many times, and Anders deflected all his questions with questions of his own or provided answers Hawke was pretty sure were less than honest. Anders wasn’t a good liar, he looked nervous as the void.
Hawke made the mistake of bringing up the issue to Fenris, to which he responded “I’m not counciling you on your relationship with the mage. You know well what I think.” Yeah, that had been a bad idea.
Aveline was similarly unhelpful, but she had wanted to court a man by providing his family a goat, so Hawke should have seen that one coming.
Sebastian just said that material wealth didn’t matter. The wealth wasn’t the problem! It was that Anders was growing distant from him as well as refusing all benefits of being the Champion’s lover.
At this point the only person he hadn’t tried talking to was Carver. Yeah, he wasn’t going to the Templar for advice on his relationship with an apostate. Certainly not his baby brother.
__________________________________________
Hawke and Anders were together as lovers for three months before Hawke decided he wanted Anders living with him. Truthfully he had his mind made up about that much earlier, but he hadn’t wanted to scare Anders off. Now, something scared him more.
The clinic was in shambles, raided by templars again. Hawke and Varric were helping Anders clean up, both trying to salvage what they could.
“I don’t know where else I can move this place,” Anders said after sighing. “The Templars have found out most spaces in Darktown…ah, damn it all…” he trailed off.
Hawke helped him find a new place for his clinic, but that night he was haunted by dreams of Templars hauling Anders away, of Anders ending up tranquil just like Karl. Then Hawke would be in Anders’ position, needing to kill a lover to save him from a fate worse than death. Or maybe the Templars would just kill him then and there. Maybe they would hold a public execution.
Anders was sleeping all alone at his dreadfully unsafe clinic, and Hawke wanted him here in the mansion. Maybe three months was too soon, but Hawke would rather make a foolish decision than have his inaction harm Anders.
Hawke decided to ask him at the same time he gave him a gift. Romantic stuff, really. He had found the Amell’s red favors and knew immediately what he was going to do with one of them.
Hawke found Anders cleaning up his new clinic space, thankfully alone.
“I have a gift for you,” he said. “It requires a bit of explanation of Kirkwall customs, but…”
And so he explained the favor, what it meant, what it would mean to him if Anders kept it. And Anders… grew even more pale than before. Shit, this wasn’t the reaction he wanted.
“I… I need some air,” Anders declared, and left. Hawke stood in the clinic, looking stupid, holding the damn red fabric. Eventually Hawke left in search of Anders, but he was nowhere to be seen. He must have left Darktown entirely.
Shit. Shit, shit. Hawke had scared Anders off. So much for asking him to move in.
Damn it all, Hawke needed to find Anders. He needed to figure out what was wrong. Hawke wandered Lowtown in search of Anders, but he wasn’t having any luck. Then it started raining, and Hawke kept searching. Then it started pouring, and Hawke fled into the Hanged Man.
Soaking wet, Hawke sat down at the bar in defeat.
“Hello, brother,” came a voice. Startled, Hawke looked over and realized who he had sat right next to. Carver.
“What are you doing here?” Hawke asked.
“Drinking,” Carver replied, holding up his glass.
“You don’t drink here.”
“It’s the only place my colleagues won’t find me.”
Carver was tipsy, wasn’t he? There were too many direct answers.
“You’re hiding from the Templars?” Hawke asked in disbelief.
“Not hiding…I just don’t want to be around them now.”
“Is…is something wrong?” Hawke asked, knowing he was venturing into dangerous territory. He and Carver hardly talked about anything emotional, and every time they did it turned into arguing. However, Hawke felt too broken down by the Anders situation to know sense.
Carver snorted with laughter. “Yeah, a lot is wrong. You’ll only say “I told you so.””
“Promise I won’t. I just made my own stupid mistake today, so I don’t have much room to talk.”
“That mistake have anything to do with why you’re out in the rain?”
“...Yeah. I was looking for Anders.”
“Of course you are,” Carver said, waving a hand, “you’re fucking infatuated with him. Just kiss already and spare me the dramatics.”
“Already did,” Hawke said. He realized just how little he and Carver talked now, how distant they had grown since Carver joined the Templars. It was to be expected, with Hawke running errands for the Mage Underground. Their ideologies just…didn’t mix.
“And he’s hiding from you? You must be a horrible kisser.”
“...That’s not why he’s hiding. We’ve been together for months,”
“And I’m just hearing about it now.”
“Yeah, what do you expect?” Hawke asked, letting some anger show. “We don’t talk. You hardly come home from the Gallows despite having a place at the mansion. Mother would have wanted you there, you know.”
“Don’t bring mother into this!” Carver snapped. Then, his shoulders sagged. “I don’t want to fight, not now.”
“...Me neither,” Hawke admitted. “I already have to figure out how to apologize to Anders, I don’t want to need to apologize to you too.”
“What did you do?” Carver asked, seeming genuine for once. Maybe he had also realized how little connection the two brothers had now. Maybe he also missed his brother under all that anger.
So, Hawke explained. Carver actually listened intently, and that might have had something to do with the alcohol.
“...And so he ran away,” Hawke finished. Hawke had divulged more than he intended to at first, going into the problem of the refused invitations and the distance. Carver was going to be insufferable about this when he was sober and decided he hated Hawke again.
Maybe he would be insufferable now, maybe he would laugh at Hawke for entering a relationship with an “unstable abomination.”
He didn’t. Instead, he said three words.
“It’s the Circle.”
“What?” Hawke asked.
“The Circle. You know, of Magi. That Circle.”
“What does the Circle have to do with this?”
“No love allowed, there,” said Carver. “They’ll transfer you to a different location if you’re found to be in a relationship. Anything meaningful, and it’s over. Anders grew up in a Circle, you didn’t. It… it does something to the mages there. They’re miserable.”
Hawke was taking this all in, startled both by the possibility and by Carver’s opinion on the matter.
“Finally realizing the Templars aren’t the knights in shining armor you thought they were?”
“Fuck off,” Carver muttered. “I’m still here to do good. And you…just listen to me for once, alright? Your boyfriend has never had a proper lover without the threat of that being taken from him.”
“...They did take him from him,” Hawke realized. Karl. Hawke had heard the stories. The only reason he was in the Gallows was because he and Anders were caught. And he died in the Gallows.
“Anders is afraid,” Hawke realized out loud. Carver nodded.
“I can’t pretend to understand that man, but…the Circle does this to everybody, the way it is now,” Carver replied.
Hawke was putting it all together. Anders didn’t want to avoid the wealth, he wanted to avoid being seen with Hawke. He didn’t want the favor because it was a symbol of his connection to Hawke. He didn’t want everyone knowing about them because he didn’t want Hawke taken away.
Fuck.
“I need to go looking for Anders again,” he said, getting up from his seat.
“In all this fucking rain?”
“Yes.”
__________________________________
Finally, Hawke found Anders at the docks. He was hiding under an awning, sitting against the brick wall staring out at the rain. He looked up at Hawke nervously when he approached, and Hawke just wordlessly sat down next to him. He hadn’t exactly prepared what he was going to say.
“You’re mad at me,” Anders said eventually.
“No, I’m not.” Hawke’s heart hurt desperately in that moment. “I’m more mad at myself for not realizing something. At least if I’m right, I was an idiot for a bit.”
“And what were you right about?”
“That you’re afraid someone is going to take me away if people know we’re together.”
Anders’ shoulders tensed, and he looked away. “It’s not good for you to be seen with me. I could ruin your life.”
“You won’t,” Hawke said. “And maybe that’s my risk to take, anyway. But I don’t think that’s why you’re afraid. It happened to you before…with Karl.”
Anders shook his head.
“I’m sorry to bring him up,” Hawke said, alreadying seeing tears form at the corner of Anders’ eyes. Hawke really did hate this, but he had to get to the bottom of Anders’ issues in their relationship.
“I’m sorry, but I think I need to. I think you and Karl were in love, you got caught, and he was taken away.”
“...And he died because he was taken away,” Anders continued Hawke’s sentence. “I killed him, in more ways than one.”
“You didn’t kill him,” Hawke said softly. “You didn’t. But you had to be discrete with him, everyone you grew up around had to be discrete. Because you were punished for being in love. That doesn’t just go away, Anders.”
Anders didn’t reply. So Hawke continued.
“I’ve been trying to push you out of your comfort zone without even realizing it. I didn’t realize because we’re not in the Circle, I never was in a Circle, but…but you were. You were there since you were a child. I can’t just expect you to abandon all fears from that place.”
Hawke already hated the Circle. He hated what it stood for, he hated the stories his father told him, he hated the fear of his sister being taken there. But it was never personal, not really. He hated the idea of the Circle, he hated the fear of the Circle, but it had never become this personal until he met Anders. The man wasn’t just riddled with scars from his time in the Wardens, the only difference was that these scars weren’t visible. Every day he saw the damage the Circle did to someone, and he still hadn’t realized how deep that damage went.
“...No mage I knew had ever dared to fall in love,” Anders finally said, echoing his words from the night they got together. “I thought it would be the rule I most cherished breaking. But I can’t. I don’t know how to break that rule.”
“You don’t have to know,” Hawke told him, “because I’ll be here while you figure it out. I’ll help you figure it out.”
“You might be waiting a long time.”
“We’ve got a long time,” Hawke said, smiling slightly. “I’m not going anywhere. Anders, I want to be seen with you. I want people to know we’re a couple. But I’m okay with waiting until you’re comfortable with that. This can go at your pace, Anders.”
Anders frowned. “My pace may not be going anywhere. Maybe…” he sighed. “Maybe I do need help. Maybe I would like a bit of a push.”
“I’m pretty strong,” Hawke smiled. “I think I can push you a little.”
Anders let out a small laugh, and warmth filled Hawke’s heart.
Hawke continued to speak. “You’re not in this alone. Kinda the whole point of a couple. If you want me to help you face your fears, of course I will.”
“...And you’re really okay with telling the whole world that you love an apostate?”
“I am an apostate,” Hawke chuckled. Then he grew more serious. “But yes, Anders, I would tell the whole world I love you if you’re okay with that. I would shout it to the heavens, shout it so loud the bloody Knight Commander and the Maker could hear it.”
“...Maybe I like the sound of that,” Anders said. He smiled slightly. “Maybe I want to get there one day.”
“Then we’ll get there,” said Hawke. “Together.”