Chapter Text
“…is ridiculous, she can’t just keep treating mages like this!” Anders complained angrily. “It’s crossing one too many lines, Hawke.” He ran a hand through his hair in distress, and Hawke sighed.
“I know, I agree, but right now there really isn’t much I can do, Anders.” The mage replied. “I’m an apostate just like you, and even if some people like me, that doesn’t mean they won’t still arrest me given the chance. I can’t help anyone from inside a Circle.”
“But we can do more than just sit here!” Anders protested. “There has to be something we can do, right?”
“Besides rally people up?” Hawke sighed. “I swear, I’m doing everything I can. You know that, right? I haven’t sent anyone to the circles, not once. But for now, that’s… really, the best I can do.” Anders could have remained angry, but Hawke had his kicked-puppy face on, and he really did look regretful and torn at the same time, and honestly he just couldn’t stay mad at Hawke, so instead he just sighed and sank back into the couch.
“I know, I know.” He replied. “I’m sorry, just… I know what it’s like inside those circles, and Kirkwall’s is the worst.” He shook his head.
“I know it is.” Hawke agreed. “I’m going to keep looking into this, alright? But… promise me you won’t do anything stupid, yeah?” And then Hawke gave him one of those dorky little grins of his, the ones that made Anders’s heart clench and his fingers tingle.
He shoved the feeling down in lieu of raising an eyebrow and smirking.
“Why Hawke, whatever do you mean? I’d never do such a thing.”
“I’m serious.” Hawke replied. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Well, I am the only healer around.” He said, shrugging. Hawke laughed, shaking his head.
“You really are impossible.” He said. “Is it so hard for you to accept my concern? You’re the closest thing I have to a best friend at the moment, Anders. I prefer it if my friends stay alive, unharmed, and free, yes?”
Ah, there it is. Anders did his best not to wince. ’Best friend’ he says.
“I will do my best to stay out of trouble.” Anders finally agreed with exaggerated reluctance. “Just as long as you promise to-“
A knock came on the door, and Hawke’s eyes shot up, and different light coming in them, one of recognition and… excitement. Anders knew who it was before he even said it.
“Fenris is here.”
“Oh, joy.” Anders grumbled. “My favorite pro-circle, glower-y elf.” Hawke didn’t even reply, was already half way across Gamlen’s living room and to the door, pulling it open.
“I need your help.” Anders heard Fenris say, and the elf sounded a bit… stressed, sort of. Whatever, not his problem. He had zero interest in helping the elf. Then Hawke’s head poked back in.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go.” He said, and that hurt worse than it should – Anders always came second to Fenris, everything did, and everyone. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want – I’ll be back later. There’s not much food, but if you want a sandwich or something help yourself.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry about this.” Hawke was already half way out of the house. “Bye, Anders.” The door closed. Anders sighed.
“Bye.”
“Oh good, he left one of his loud, obnoxious friends behind.” The voice was unfamiliar and sounded almost… insulted, and Anders, looking up, recognized the speaker to be Hawke’s younger brother, Carver.
“Ah, so you do exist.” Anders said. “I’ve heard about you, but often times you’re so far back into his hole that I was beginning to doubt it.” The boy rolled his eyes. He looked similar to Garrett but was also completely different – his hair was the same color, but while Hawke’s tended to stick up every which way and curl at the most inopportune places, Carver’s was straight and hung flat against head. His jaw was narrower, face taller (and far more grumpy) and his eyes were blue, instead of gold. Like… really blue. His skin was paler, too, but he looked stronger – which also made a sort of sense. He wasn’t a Mage, and Hawke said he preferred a sword. Swinging a staff around wasn’t easy, but it had nothing on one of those long swords.
“And you wonder why I avoid my brother’s friends.” He muttered, walking across the kitchen. “I thought I heard him leave.”
“He did.”
Carver paused, and frowned at him.
“And you’re still here?”
“He had more important matters to attend to.” Anders replied. “Starting with ‘Fen’ and ending with ‘ris’ with a big pile of ‘brooding circle-lover’ in the middle, there.” Carver grunted.
“Don’t remind me. Honestly, with him, it’s always ‘Fenris this’ and ‘Fenris that’. Bethy and mom think it’s cute. I think it’s gross.” He made a face. “Simply because it’s Garrett, and they’re just so novel-fantasy that it’s…” He groaned again. “Whatever, he can do what he wants. Not like he cares about my opinion anymore anyways.”
“Here, here.” Anders agreed. There was a pause. Then Anders said, “You know, your brother can be an ass.”
And the younger Hawke smirked.
“Now that, we both agree on.”