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Varric knew where Anders was, of course he did. He knew where everyone he once called friends were, but the inquisitor didn't need to know that. Cassandra didn't need to know that. Hawke didn’t need to know that.
From what Varric had found out; Anders had found himself living in a hilltop cave near a village, offering healing to those who were willing to make the climb. He likely had an arrangement; “don't ask questions, don't turn me in and you get free healing”.
One question scratched at the back of Varric’s mind, why had he decided to make his way to that village? Why had he made sure Bianca was working to perfection?
The village’s biggest tavern was nothing special, it was rather small in actuality. It had a total of three available rooms for boarding, one about the size of a wardrobe, another the size of a pantry and the third was only a little bigger than the other two.
That third room cost a little too much for what it was. Varric placed Bianca on the wooden table crammed into the room's darkest corner, and placed his jacket on the matching wooden chair.
The village folk didn't talk much about the healer, presumably for the same reason people didn't want him and hawke going to Anders back in kirkwall: they don't want their free healer being taken away. It made sense all those years ago, and it made sense to Varric now.
Still, Varric had gotten confirmation on what he already knew; There was a healer living in a cave at the hilltop. Varric got another piece of information however, from a young boy playing a little too close to a river: the healer had a cat.
The silhouette of the hill could be seen through the room’s window. Varric expected a small dot of light, any sign of life, but it was a dark figure towering over the village.
Up that hill was the villagers' salvation, and the man who destroyed his home.
So why was he here? Varric never thought of himself as impulsive, yet he traveled all this way with some rumors and no plan . There was one idea in the back of his mind, an idea part of Varric tried to push back. He was here to do what hawke didn't, what hawke couldn’t.
The tavern room was surprisingly warm without a fireplace, though the bed was far from comfortable. As Varric lay under the warm cover of the woollen blanket, he was glad that dwarves didn’t dream.
They had both been drunk, Justice had let Anders get drunk for once. Maybe because their job was almost done and the bomb had been placed, maybe it was celebration . Anders was happy, it was the first time in years that Varric got to see him happy, if only he could have been sober. They had their moment, in each other's arms, they kissed and cried. It was a moment, a painfully short moment, but Varric thought he had Anders. There never was an Anders.
Dreams didn't come to dwarves, but memories could certainly take the role of nightmares. Varric left the tavern early in the morning, made his way to the edge of the village. Bianca was on his back as he made his way up the hill. There was a makeshift pathway he followed, many footsteps had cleared the way ahead.
It wasn’t too late to turn around, to go back to the tavern, to go back. Just around the corner was the entry to the cave, its opening covered by tall trees, but the path was nearing its end. As Varric was turning the corner to peer into the cave a cat came running in front of him. The hairless beast arched its back and hissed at Varric, low growling meow’s left the cat.
“Ser Purr-cival I told you not to bother our-” a familiar voice filled Varric's ears, and soon his vision was greeted with a tall, skinny, blond man he had seen many times before. “Oh.”
***
The cat - Purr-cival, rested upon Anders embroidered pillow on a table. The cave looked quite nice. On the left of it were two cots, behind them was a table full of positions and tools, above that table was a drying rack for herbs. There was a larger cleaner table at the back of the cave and to the right of that was a single cot with a blanket and pillow on top. A large piece of fabric covered half the cavern entrance, likely there to protect the place from poor weather.
Anders had backed away into the cave, Varric followed hand on bianca. It was quiet for a long time, Anders sat on his makeshift bed and Varric stood in the middle of the cave. Anders looked different. His eyes were absent of dark circles but he still looked tired, the wrinkles on his face had deepened and his beard was no longer stubble. Anders blond hair hand grown out past his shoulders, and he no longer wore it up. He looked bad, but Varric had seen him worse.
Anders was the first to talk. “It was either going to be you or hawke, I wasn't going to let anyone else do it” he fumbled with the familiar black robes he wore, it was no doubt the same robes Anders had gotten himself after planting a bomb . The robes had changed over the years, holes had been patched and sewn up, there were far fewer feathers and it was much looser around the neck once again.
“You wanted to live then, what about now?” Varric’s voice was filled with an amount of bitterness, yet he lifted his hand away from bianca.
“That's a loaded question.” Anders was firm, the soft tone he had used to talk to his cat was nowhere to be found. Silence between the two once more. “Why are you here Varric?” it was more a demand than a question.
“How’s Justice?” The dwarf pulled his eyes away from Anders, looking over to the hairless cat instead. Varric wasn’t expecting an answer; he was simply keen on changing the topic back to Anders, or at least his demon.
“Inseparable to me, as always.” Anders graced Varric with the gift of not pressing his question any further. The air was cool and Varric could hear the wind swaying the leaves of the trees. It was calming and quiet, a stark difference from the streets of darktown. It was nice, a nice place to live in, when you’re a wanted terrorist .
“Do you get lonely here?” The question echoed off the cavern's walls and Varric turned back to anders.
“No, I've got Purr-cival and Just-”
“It's just you, Anders. Are you lonely?” Varric's voice thickened.
“I'm not alone, Varric.” Anders' voice was low and firm, Varric began to reach for Bianca before he stopped himself.
“Do you have any idea how crazy you are?!” Varric snapped, his voice loud in the cavern, anders brown eyes narrowed at him. “How crazy you were?! Are you going to blow up that little village in seven years too!?”
“Varric.”
“You got to that point by your own self isolation, by your own self imposed loneliness. All of it
anders, it was your own maker-damned fault! ”
***
“You know. Anders isn’t my real name”
The hanged man was loud as ever, and Anders' voice barely made it over the sound of the other patrons. Hawke had taken Merrill, Isabela and Fenris on some trip to sundermount and Aveline was too busy for a drink. So it left Varric with the company of a sober Anders telling stories of his time in the wardens - Varric was careful to avoid topics of the circle, that would ruin any fun time.
“I was wondering why a parent would name their kid that, I just considered it a human thing.”
“I didn't talk in the circle for a while, the kids started calling me ‘the Ander’ and it turned into Anders pretty quickly”
“You, not talking? I'm not sure I believe you there, blondie.” there was a soft but weary laugh let out by the dwarf.
“I’m catching up for lost time”
“Well what's your real name then?”
“It-” there was a pause and Anders' features sharpened. “I don't remember”
“Really?! Well you’re lucky they called you Anders and not something worse”
Anders stayed silent for a moment too long “they locked me up for a whole year.”
And there he had went again, he couldn't enjoy a moment
The conversation went slowly, the same as it always was with Anders rants about the chantry. Varric lent an ear, better he says it now than talking Hawke’s ears off in the middle of a quest. Anders stood up to leave before the sun had even begun to set.
“Blondie, you haven't left your clinic in weeks. Stay a little longer” Varric reached his arm across the table.
“I have work to do.”
“Alright, just take care of yourself”
It had been like that for three years, getting worse and worse. Hawke had brought it up first, yet never even tried to visit him for more than medical visits.
***
“If you’ve come to kill me, i request do it without the yelling” Anders voice was stronger than it typically sounded, he always had a soft voice
“You think you can make requests like that after what you did?” Varric’s
“I know it's selfish, i've realised a lot of what i do is” the softness of the mages voice had returned as quickly as it left
“You can say that again”
Silence fell between the two again. Anders hunched over like he had all those years ago, on that wooden crate, but this time he was facing Varric
“It's quiet out here.” Anders voice echoed
“Kirkwall was loud, in all kinds of ways. Now I can really hear the song of lyrium, it sings of home . It was so faint in kirkwall, but now… it's nice.” Anders' eyes focused on a stray lyrium potion on one of his tables. Was that justice talking, ander never said anything about lyrium before.
“You know, I really wish you would have just let me love you” Varric turned to the entrance of the cave, he felt the presence of anders gaze.
“You wouldn’t have let yourself.” Varric turned his head back, brown eyes connecting to golden ones. there had once been such determination in those golden eyes, now they only held sorrow and a faint glimpse of regret.
Maybe it was only the reflection of Varric’s regret.
“We had good moments.” Anders voice broke the ever present silence once again
“Did we?”
“I did.” Anders spoke, certain of his words “I hoped to have returned the favour”
Varric’s feet moved before he even knew what he was doing, he walked over to anders cot and wrapped the abomination in his arms. And for a moment Varric thought back on their time together, something he had done many times over the years. But this time he wasn’t angry. All those soft tender moments were no longer poisoned by years of loathing, they were just moments, as they were then. Varric buried his head in Anders' chest, squeezing the man tight, no words were spoken between them, the only sound was a soft meow from Ser Purr-cival.
Varric left the village that night, whatever he had come for, he had gotten it. A weight lifted from his shoulders, the heavy memories he had felt lighter, and he was glad he knew where Anders was.