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“Hawke!”
His name is spoken with that particular edge, and Garrett cringes before getting up from his desk and following the voice. When he stands at the banister and looks down, he can see Anders beside the fireplace, looking downright livid.
He’s holding something in his hand, and it takes Hawke a few seconds to realise that it’s a few very rumpled pages of the manifesto. Some of them are even torn in two. All of them look rather soggy.
“What…?”
“Your dog, Garrett! I was working and just left the study for a second.” Anders crosses his arms in front of his chest, the paper rustling with the movement. “I come back, and what do I see? That drooling beast, having fun with my manifesto. I’ve worked all night on this, and now I have to write it all over again.”
He huffs, throwing his ruined work into the fire and stalks through the door to the study.
And just as Garrett wants to turn and head back to his room, Anders’ voice booms through the estate, and he’s not sure if he wants to flinch or laugh.
“Put him on a leash!”
~*~*~*~
Anders’ tongue is hot against his neck, and he moans, bringing his hand up and threading his fingers through his lover’s loose hair.
“I’ve missed you all day”, the healer sighs, pressing his body against Garrett’s, making them both groan. They haven’t seen much of each other these past few days, with Anders being busy in the Clinic and Garrett trying to help get things in Kirkwall back in order after the Viscount’s death. The city has been all directionless energy, with everyone screaming for a new leader.
“I’ve missed you too.”
Anders’ hand travels down to his stomach and under his tunic, lips pulled up in a mischievous grin. “We should get you out of these clothes. Do you know how much— oomph!”
There’s a dull thump when Anders is thrown off the mattress and onto the ground, a pained gasp escapes him as his head connects with the armoire.
Garrett quickly sits up in bed, one hand resting on Dog’s head, the other covering his mouth to hide the grin spreading on his face. “I’m so sorry, Anders.”
The other man groans, desperately trying to get back to his feet. “Maker, I hate your dog. So much.”
~*~*~*~
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Huh?” Garrett looks up from the book he’s reading, only to see a look of utter disgust on Anders’ face. “What is it?”
Anders bends down to his coat that he’d carelessly thrown over a chair before taking a bath, and picks up what looks like a thoroughly gnawed cattle bone, streaks of drool sticking to it, some of which are now decorating the healer’s coat.
“Oh… well, you know how he is. He found it in the Viscount’s garden, I think.” Hawke shrugs, burying his face in his book again and trying to find the line he’s left off at.
“Look at my coat!” Anders drops the bone, and it lands on the ground with a thud. “Now it stinks of dog drool. Thanks for that.”
Garrett has to keep himself from commenting on how this is probably an improvement, and settles for something he’s sure will make him win the argument. “If I had a cat and it had dropped a dead mouse on your coat, you wouldn’t make such a fuss.”
“Pff.” And with that, Anders is gone, leaving Hawke to quietly snicker to himself.
~*~*~*~
“You have really outdone yourself tonight, Orana,” Garrett says with a smile, shoving another bite of roast beef into his mouth.
The elf smiles shyly before scurrying back to the kitchen to start with the dish washing.
Dog is sitting next to his owner, tail wagging excitedly as he stares up at the platter of perfectly roasted meat.
Anders and Garrett don’t talk a lot during dinner, too busy with chewing and enjoying the untypically quiet evening.
“She’s really gotten better at cooking,” Anders says between bites, lifting his mug to his lips to wash the food down. When he reaches to take the last slice off the platter, he realises that there’s nothing left.
He can hear content grunts and munching under the table, and when he lifts his eyebrow at Hawke, his questioning look is met with a sheepish grin.
“Sorry. You know how much he loves roast beef. I didn’t want him to miss out on it.”
Anders sighs, “Fine. It’s not like I wanted it anyway.”
Dog emerges from under the table, a bit of meat hanging out of his mouth, and Garrett has never seen anyone glare at food the way Anders is doing now.
Well, Fenris, maybe.
~*~*~*~
There has never been a more cheerful day at the Clinic. For everyone who isn’t Anders, that is.
Laughter fills the room as Dog chases the children from one corner to another, jumping over the bandages Anders has spread out to dry, knocking over a bucket of water and squeezing his massive body through the space between cots.
“Elias, come here!” If the boy hears Anders, he shows no sign, giggling when Dog nuzzles his stomach. “You still have a fever, and need rest.”
He has already given up on the girl with the small cut on her cheek, not so deep that it absolutely requires a healer’s help. Her little body shakes with laughter as she bends down to hug Dog’s neck, releasing a yelp of delight when he swipes his tongue over her ear.
Anders shakes his head at the chaos, dragging a hand over his face and groaning wearily. There are people trying to sleep, fighting infections and serious illnesses, and at the current noise level, there is absolutely no chance for them to do that.
When Garrett walks over to him, leaning against his desk and watching the playing children, he seriously debates strangling him.
“I have to go. Varric wants me to meet him at the Hanged Man,” he says, kissing the healer’s cheek.
“Good,” Anders grumbles. “And please, please take the dog with you.”
~*~*~*~
Garrett tries to be as quiet as possible as he walks up the stairs, cringing when the wood creaks under his feet. Anders has come up with a bad case of the flu, too weak to use even the lightest sparks of magic to help with recovery, and he desperately needs all the rest he can get.
The last few days have been strenuous, with Anders coughing so violently that Garrett has woken up at least five times every night, sometimes to his lover throwing up into the bucket they have put beside the bed.
He has tried to be there for him, cancelling most of his plans, but the meeting with Knight-Commander Meredith that had taken place today was something he hadn’t been able to postpone, no matter how much he’d wanted to.
The guilt he feels is instantly gone when he carefully opens the door to his bedroom. Anders is lying on the bed, eyes closed and wrapped in blankets, every breath he takes accompanied by a light wheezing.
But he’s not alone.
Dog’s eyes find his in the dim light provided by the oil lamp on the desk, and he gives a quiet huff, not moving from his current position, snuggled up against Anders with his head resting on the healer’s chest.
“Good boy,” Garrett whispers, approaching the bed and bending over Anders, brushing a few strands of damp hair out of his face.
Dog whines lightly, and Garrett gives him a small smile. “Don’t worry, he’ll be alright. Quiet now. We don’t want to wake him, do we?” Dog blinks, pressing his body more tightly against the sleeping man. “Stay here, I’ll check on the two of you again in an hour.”
Then he leaves as quietly as he can, and if he had looked over his shoulder on the way out, he wouldn’t have missed the smile on Anders’ face, weak but honest, and the arm slowly coming up from under the blanket and wrapping itself around Dog’s body that was so good at providing both warmth and comfort.