Chapter Text
Hawke is laughing.
This puzzles Anders, at first. Hawke's always been the easily amused sort, but he really can't imagine what his lover could possibly find so entertaining on, of all things, the Mages' Collective Board. Anders shrugs and tries to ignore it, turning his attention back to the vials in his hand.
Things have been scarce since their first night out of Kirkwall - Anders had left his usual supplies pack behind the night of the Uprising, hardly expecting to... to have occasion for it. And there'd hardly been time after Meredith to run back home to pack. Elfroot, at least, has been plentiful along the roads - but lyrium has been another matter entirely. They'd barely been able to spare the coin for one, the Collective representative one of the few left with any sources at all. Maybe he can offer-
Maker, why is Hawke still laughing? Anders turns to his lover, only to find the former Champion ushering him over, lips pulled in the widest grin Anders has seen in months.
"What's so funny?" Anders asks, confused. Hawke just points to a notice, big and bold in the middle of the board, and he can only stare for a long, long while.
"They... they want a copy of my manifesto?" Anders asks, disbelieving.
"Mhm," Hawke whispers back. "For 'widespread distribution and rallying purposes', I believe."
Anders opens his mouth, trying to find the words.
"I can't believe it," he mutters eventually.
"You should," Hawke tells him, serious for once. "They're finally rising up. And it's because of you."
"No, I mean..." Anders says quietly, "I can't believe it. I don't... I don't have a single copy on me."
They both laugh for a good, long while at that.