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Hawke awoke to the sound of someone rummaging around the house. Immediately, she bolted upright, concern only increasing upon the discovery that the bed was empty, and that the healer normally sleeping beside her was not at the moment. A hundred terrible scenarios raced through her mind, mostly involving Templars, and it was only a heartbeat later that she was out of bed. She grabbed a dagger from the bedside drawer, slipped on a robe, and began creeping downstairs, towards the source of the noise.
The ruckus seemed to be coming from the larder, based on the sounds. So perhaps not Templars, after all, but just common thieves. That, however, still did not explain Anders’ absence. Hawke wanted to believe he’d just had to run off to the clinic or something, but worry was quickly overpowering hope. As she neared the kitchen, seeing just the barest hint of light from further in, she decided to deal with the intruder first, and then figure out where her lover had gone. If the two were indeed related, this way would be wisest.
Hawke crept up to the corner and then shot around it, not bothering with stealth anymore now that her adversary was cornered. She was about to call out a threat to the now still figure in the pantry when she realized who it was.
Anders – or rather, Justice, if the blazing blue light was any indication – was standing with his back to the rogue, frozen in place at being caught. Hawke blinked a few times, mind working desperately to make sense of what was happening here.
“Justice?” She asked, gently, but not without sounding completely bewildered.
“Yes, Hawke?” The spirit answered, tone as neutral as always.
“What exactly are you doing rifling through the pantry?” She replied, amused, with one eyebrow raised.
Justice remained silent for a long moment, a far longer moment than Hawke really wanted to deal with in the early hours of the morning. Maker, the sun would be coming up soon. It was bad enough that Anders needed coaxing to sleep a full night, but if Justice was going to start that too, she was certainly doomed. One sleepless person in that body was already too many.
“Justice? Why aren’t you turning around?” She asked, her confusion only increasing.
Justice stiffened, an almost imperceptible tightening of his muscles. Then, slowly, he turned around, and Hawke had to stifle a laugh. Clutched in the spirit’s glowing hands was a generous pile of the little cakes that had been thrust upon her at the last noble party she’d been forced to attend. The hosts were always offended if one didn’t ‘eat their share’, so Hawke had become quite good at hiding the pastries in her clothes, then letting her friends and Anders’ patients devour them whenever it was convenient. Well, her friends and Anders’ patients, and now a spirit of Justice, it seemed, considering the light dusting of fine crumbs stuck in the stubble on his chin.
And that was when Hawke noticed the expression on his face. Expressions with Justice were never easy to discern, but what she saw now was almost certainly guilt. Oh Maker, it was taking all of her effort not to laugh, something that would likely only make him feel worse.
The rogue did manage to stifle her chuckle, but her voice was still tinged with amusement. “A little midnight snack, I take it? I didn’t think you cared for eating.”
“While the consumption of food is something mortals are required to do frequently in order to live, I have learned that such things can be… pleasurable, as well. I have experienced the taste of these…” Justice paused, likely searching Anders’ memories for the correct word, “cakes through Anders. It was quite pleasant. I simply wished to try them for myself.”
The spirit wasn’t averting his eyes like a mortal would, but his face was drawn down, lips curving into a small frown. The guilty expression was obvious to Hawke, as she had become accustomed to his unusual mannerisms, and she was torn between feeling bad for him and wanting to grin. This was never something she thought to see from Justice.
“So you raided the pantry in the dead of night? You could’ve just asked, Justice. I wouldn’t have said no. I’ve got enough of those blasted things to last a lifetime.” Hawke said, opting for a gentle smile.
Justice tilted his head to the side for a moment. “I would have thought such a request would be strange. Anders eats, when we remind him, and thus I have no need to.”
“No one ‘needs’ cakes, Justice. We all eat them because we enjoy them.”
Understanding seemed to dawn on the spirit’s face. “I see. The nutritional value in such things does seem to be suspect. In that case, I apologize, Hawke. I did not mean to wake you, nor did I mean to cause you any distress.”
“No harm done, Justice.” Her smile broadened. “I’m just glad it was you in the pantry, and not a thief or something.”
The rogue then had another thought. “Wait, how many of those have you eaten?”
Justice looked up, seeming to consider the question, before meeting her eyes with his incandescent gaze. “I am uncertain. They are very small, and taste very good.”
That caused Hawke to finally let out a bit of her pent up laughter. “Anders is probably going to have one hell of a stomach ache when he wakes up, you know.”
The spirit tilted his head again, so Hawke explained before he could question it. “If you eat too many sweets, that mortal stomach of yours won’t be pleased with it.”
Justice looked troubled now. “I see. I did not realize I would be causing Anders discomfort.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Hawke said quickly, not wanting to actually make the spirit feel bad because of her teasing. “Maybe just leave him an apology note for the morning, because otherwise he’ll be pretty confused.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps I shall do that then.” Justice said, nodding, and not looking quite so crestfallen anymore.
“Perfect. Can we go back to bed now, please? I swear, if the both of you start hating sleep, we’re going to have a problem…” Hawke muttered, turning to go back to bed.
Justice said nothing, but then she heard the unmistakable sound of the cakes he’d been holding being finished off. The rogue shook her head, smiling, and then continued on up the stairs to go back to sleep, followed by Justice only a few moments later.
The next morning, sure enough, Anders awoke with a groan, stirring Hawke from her slumber.
“Morning, love.” She said, not quite concealing a grin. “Feeling alright?”
“Morning.” He said, blinking away the last grasp of sleep. “Ugh, not really, no.”
“Let me guess: upset stomach?”
Anders stared at her, surprised. “Ah, yes. How did you know? You have one too?”
“Not quite.” And with that, the rogue slipped out of bed, moving to the writing desk to grab the sheet of parchment left there last night, then walked back and handed it to Anders. “This might answer some questions.”
Anders took the parchment from her, then read it aloud. “‘Anders, I understand you may be feeling unwell this morning due to my actions. I apologize if this is the case. I did not mean to cause you any discomfort.’”
The mage then looked at Hawke, still confused. “This is Justice’s writing. ‘My actions.’ What is he talking about?”
The rogue giggled, no longer able to stifle it. “Justice raided the pantry last night.”
“What? Why?” Anders asked, looking completely baffled.
“He wanted to try eating. Apparently he’s discovered eating can be ‘quite pleasurable’.”
The mage gaped at her for a moment, before he burst out laughing. “Oh Maker, that was the last thing I expected. What did he eat?”
“Far too many of those little cakes I’ve been pawning off on everyone. That’s why you probably feel like ass right now.” Hawke explained.
Anders paused, likely communicating with Justice to confirm the story, before continuing. “That does explain it then. But oh, damn, I really wish he’d gone a little easier on our stomach.”
The healer moved to lay back again, one hand gently rubbing his belly, and Hawke watched him with a small smile on her face.
“Well, let me see if I can help with that, then.” She said as she joined him in laying back down as well, planting a light kiss on his temple.
The rogue then inched closer, curling around him and moving one of her own hands to his belly and beginning to gently rub and massage. Anders let out a pleased sigh, and Hawke continued her ministrations. She could also see a faint blue glow coming from under his skin, showing Justice was trying to help soothe the mage’s discomfort as well. Technically he was to blame, but it’s not as if Hawke could truly do so. If the spirit was starting to take an interest in things he’d never experienced before, neither she nor Anders were going to discourage him. Justice deserved to enjoy such things too, after all, and neither of them would ever tell him otherwise. Though Anders, at least, would likely encourage him to at least enjoy in moderation from now on, for the sake of their poor stomach.