elfhame | In a cave in the hills in the woods far away

In a cave in the hills in the woods far away

Anders still wasn't sure if he liked or disliked letters from Varric. Most of the time, it depended on Hawke's reactions. Sometimes Hawke was happy, talking about how Aveline and Donnic were doing, excitedly sharing bits of what Isabela was up to while edging carefully around mentions of Fenris to keep the peace. Sometimes, though, the letters were reminders of how holed up they were. Hawke said he didn't mind. That he loved Anders and wanted to be here with him. That didn't help the guilt.

The most recent reaction was new, though. Hawke had read the letter two weeks and gone for a walk, not even giving a hint as to its contents. There was no discussion of it later that night, despite Anders' attempts, and Anders was afraid. That had only grown as Hawke went for another walk this morning. Justice was convinced they were about to be betrayed. They'd been too much of a burden, and Hawke was done. Anders didn't want to believe it, but hearing voices approach made him feel sick to his stomach.

By the time Hawke enters the cave with another person, silhouetted by the sun, Anders is a nervous, shaky wreck who can barely upright on his bedroll. Justice hovers, ready to take over, and Anders is spending just as much mental energy keeping the spirit in check as he does pleading with Justice to spare Garrett's life even if he had betrayed them.

"Hello?" His voice is cracked. It feels like everything is cracked.

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"Anders," Nathaniel sighs, bringing out a little pair of scissors to trim the length of the beard as close as possible. "I was there the night you murdered the Grand Cleric and everyone in her proximity. I was also there the day you told me to hold you and then fell over. You're going to have to be more specific."

He works the scissors deftly and quickly, clearing the beard like a pro.

"You mean to say you're still possessed?"

He doesn't remember large portions of the night he destroyed the Chantry. What he does remember, he doesn't fully trust. At least now he knows for certain that Nathaniel had been there... and apparently hadn't decided what he'd seen was the last straw.

Anders closes his eyes as Nate works, savoring the comfort that he so very much doesn't deserve.

"I'm still possessed," he says quietly. There's limitations to how much Justice will let him say, and he stumbles over how to communicate his fears. "There's... challenges. I just... I just want to know what he told you."

Oh, about Justice. Well. Hawke hadn't had to say much, but he did anyway. Hawke's something of a talker, and Nathaniel can't begrudge him a lot of words when those words are used to describe Justice in a negative manner. Menace had been the kindest one, Torturer the least kind. Nathaniel's gaze softens and he nods a little, releasing a sigh.

"He said I'm here to help you both," he paraphrases. Rather, Hawke had said he was here to help Anders and keep Justice in line, make sure nobody--including Anders--was hurt. It became one of those moments where Nathaniel felt like a complete failure to everyone around him. Which he usually was, it seemed.

Nathaniel's words add another layer of fear to the whole situation. Anders could hurt the man, hurt him terribly, and what if Hawke had downplayed it? He bites his lip, caught between worry and Justice's anger at the thought that he needs to be warned for.

"I'm not the man you knew." It's a compromise, because he's not getting any warnings out. Justice is too angry and too close to the surface. "I'm not... whole. I'm not always the, the person you're speaking with, and I'm not always..." He can't say it. Justice literally won't let the words out, and Anders closes his eyes tightly. He's not always in control of his own mind or body.

Nathaniel picks up the stone with the brush and foam as Anders speaks, but stops as he begins to struggle. He frowns when Anders stops altogether and looks so pained, as if he screamed for so long he ran out of breath but still can't stop screaming.

His free hand finds Anders' and clasps it briefly. It's been a long time since they knew each other, but there are some things you just do when you see someone suffering so much before your own eyes, even a stranger. But he can't speak reassurances. He can't say he'll protect him, or come between him and Justice in any way. Justice can decide to take Anders far from here if he wants, or kill anyone he feels is a threat.

"Let's just focus on getting you feeling better," he says softly. "The better you feel, the better he'll feel, so it'll serve you both."

He releases his hand and picks up the brush to start applying foam to Anders' cropped beard.

He claps Nate's hand back tightly for the moment it's there, breathing and getting a hold on himself. This is his burden to carry, and his choice he's made. He can't keep expecting people to help him carry it, but he can try to keep them safe when they're near him.

"That depends on what sort of better," he says with a half-laugh meant to cover up the sting of the truth. "Too much of it and it's pointless indulgence to him, a waste. But I'm all right, Nathaniel. It's all right."

It's not, but the foam application feels good enough that he can almost pretend everything's fine.

"Well, he's wrong." The foam goes on thick, but Nathaniel can already tell there are some ingrown hairs. It's going to be a pain to fix those. "You have to have sores on your face from shaving inconsistently. It's no good if one of those gets infected. You're skin and bones, I can't imagine you have the energy for the one of you, let alone the both of you. And he ought to understand. If a spirit's state of being depends so much on its circumstances, he should understand people aren't so different. You may not be changing into a demon, but you're wasting away. And I don't think he wants to wear another corpse, or he'd have already done so."

Anders finds his breathing easing as Nathaniel works on his face and talks. He hadn't expected to find that the man cared this much. It had been nice to see him in Kirkwall, so very nice, and he'd wanted more time with Nathaniel, but he hadn't expected to get it. Especially after all he'd done.

Of course, his relaxation means that Justice has very little guard to get past. Anders' half-closed eyes go electric blue as his voice deepens a little.

"I am far from a demon. And this is what keeps me that far - avoiding what desires and indulgences I can. It is when one gives in that they become corrupted. I seek no corpse. Rather, I seek to stay on a path that does not lead to my destruction." And truly, becoming a demon would have been worse than Anders' death that day months and months ago.

Nathaniel stops foaming Anders' face to squint at Justice. There's a pause while he takes in what is being said, and who is saying it. He frowns as Justice speaks, and ends up shaking his head.

"People aren't like spirits that way. People need to give in to some desires and indulgences, or they become bitter and dark. Anders needs moderation. He needs a shave."

He continues painting foam over Anders' face in circles.

"I can't imagine you'll turn into a demon for that."

He thinks that he may be being mocked, but cannot be certain. He will proceed as if that is not what Nathaniel is doing. The archer had not seemed like one to indulge in such pointless behavior before.

"You know him. When he starts indulging, there is little reason for him to stop. I do not care to be sidetracked needlessly. Already we spend the better part of our time cowering in a hole when there is progress to be made." Hawke was not an ally in this. Nathaniel, perhaps, could be.

"And you might make some progress and spend less time cowering if Anders is better looked after." A stern look. "I recall that being part of our original talk. Giving instead of taking. That includes him. He's one of the mages you're protecting. Think on that a little."

"He chose this as much as I did." Justice's look is level and calm in return. "We will make more progress now that Hawke is absent; he did not understand. But your eyes are open and you can see more than Anders. You can see what all is at stake." There's something of a question in there, along with a lot of judgement. Hawke could have been useful beyond belief, but he'd chosen to worry about small, mortal things.

That is a strange thing to say. Nathaniel gives Justice a squint. Better to be cautious and keep the spirit's trust than to be shut out and know nothing of what it plans.

"Do I?" he asks neutrally, giving Justice an opening.

Justice tilts his head, not considering where the razor might be. "Do you not? You have seen what tyranny can do. You suggested this arrangement. You are a Grey Warden, and you know of darkness and cruelty in a way Hawke does not. How would you not understand?"

Surely in their time apart Nathaniel hasn't grown soft and indulgent.

What on earth would Nathaniel know of darkness and tyranny? He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, by all accounts. He knows darkspawn. He knows demons. How does that make him knowledgeable about the mage situation?

"I understand. But it's not strictly a matter of kindness and cruelty," he says slowly, "so much as one of logistics. When riding a horse, you have to be careful not to exhaust it, or you might kill it, even though the horse has agreed to bear you. Continuing as you have is going to kill Anders."

Sort of a horrible comparison to make, but hopefully it gets his point across.

His eyes narrow as he considers the point. It isn't like he'd needed Kristoff to be alive, but the corpse had become inconvenient. After a few moments Anders is blinking, eyes returned to burnished gold as he looks tiredly at Nathaniel.

"I'm sorry. I must have drifted off for a moment. It's the foam, more than likely." He's definitely tired when he takes some time to sit still and isn't running high on fear.

It takes Nathaniel a moment to respond. He is distracted wondering if Justice's silence was a good thing. Well. Until proven otherwise, he is going to take the lack of argument as a sign that the spirit will be thinking about it and hope. He offers a fleeting smile to the mage and lifts the razor to his cheek.

"You needed a nap," he says as he begins the shave. "Still do, by the looks of it. Should we go back to the cave for one before heading into town?"

Would he be able to sleep if he was trying to? For the first time in so long he'd be sleeping alone, and he's not tired tired.

"We should get supplies and eat, if you're sure you want to go in," Anders finally says. "I don't know that I'd be able to get to sleep. It would be... difficult. And the trip's best done when there's still some daylight." He's not sure if he means it or if he's just making excuses; Anders isn't looking forward to trying to sleep without Hawke. Sure, Nate will understand the Warden nightmares, there won't be judgment there, but Anders will miss having warm hands and arms and words soothing him back to reality.

Unable to sleep? Because of Justice? There's no telling. Nathaniel gives a nod and continues shaving him.

"What are you sleeping on?" he asks offhandedly. It's very probable that any bedroll or mattress is full of fleas by now.

The rasp of blade against his skin is... odd. He's not afraid. There are some from his past who would certainly kill him if they saw him again, but Anders believes Nate to be straightforward. He wouldn't promise to protect someone for someone else and then kill them or even harm them.

"Bedroll, with a little straw scattered underneath." Within his exhaustion there's a little core of energy he'd not expected to find, and Anders draws on it as he continues. "Our cave accommodations will never be mistaken for luxurious, but they're not entirely lacking." Nor were they dirty. Hawke wasn't about to let them sleep with bugs, even if Anders didn't help with the chores. It wasn't that he didn't want to. It was that he couldn't remember to, couldn't actually get it done. Any task he was assigned would be abandoned, half-finished at most, if it didn't directly help mages, and all Anders could do was apologize.

"...What did you bring?" Because it occurs to him that Nathaniel probably has no desire to share.

Edited 2016-12-13 03:44 (UTC)

"A bedroll," Nathaniel answers. "And after the road I've had, a little straw underneath sounds like pure luxury. Do you find you have any issues with being bitten by insects?"

"No. Garrett saw to that."

And now he won't. Anders wonders if Justice would let him do more around the place without Hawke here. It could be some sort of compromise. They're going into town, after all. Justice can gather what news he needs to, and maybe Anders will have some time to be more human and less of a burden.

He reaches up to touch his face as the shave nears completion, wondering at how marvelous it feels to have the hair gone. There's no scratch, just skin, and between it and the hot water he's feeling a little human again. The company might have something to do with it too. It's been so long since he's spoken with someone who wasn't Hawke.

Anders rests a hand on one of Nathaniel's for a moment. His eyes are a little unfocused, social skills atrophied, but the words finally come if quietly. "Thank you." Garrett helps him because he loves him. Nathaniel... Anders has no hold on him. "I can get the ones that have grown in."

It's not that difficult a task for a healer, after all.

Nathaniel wipes the last of the foam off Anders' face and smiles. "There you are. You look like a civilized person, almost."

The barb is meant to try to lure some of Anders' old self out. Maybe there's some hope, if Anders can follow that lead. If not, Nathaniel isn't sure what to believe. Is there a point, if nothing remains?

It works. Anders doesn't know how or why, but there's something in his mind and past that catches Nate's words and brings something that's just barely a smile back to his lips.

"Civilized? How boring." A moment after it's out he wishes he would have added emphasis and turned it into Howe, but Justice feels it's better this way. There is a thread there, something Anders could follow, and it is not going to lead down the path the spirit desires. Anders can't quite get his mind around the nebulous mood the spirit is feeling, and instead of sitting there trying to work it out, he slides off the rock and back into the water, casting to get at the hairs that have gone the wrong way.

It's hard to concentrate on what the spirit's wanting or planning. Nearly never does Anders have the energy for it, but right now he has a little extra strength and he has no idea why. Hawke's not here. Shouldn't he feel worse? Or is the spirit elated with his absence and that's why the burden is lighter?

"Next you'll be saying something about proper and that will never do."

There he is. Nathaniel's smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. As long as Anders is still in there, Nathaniel has a reason to be with him.

In the weeks that follow, they walk north. Nathaniel tells him they will be safer in Rivain, where the Chantry has less power and the pickings are ripe for rebellion. News of the Dairsmuid annulment was suppressed in most countries, but it is a raw wound in Rivain, where people lost loved ones who had done nothing wrong. This pretext will make Justice happy, and allow Nathaniel to visit another purpose there.

They reach Wycome and take a ship from there to Afsaana, a port city with no Chantry outpost. Stepping up from the rowboat to the dock, Nathaniel stoops and offers Anders a hand up.

"Welcome to Rivain."

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In a cave in the hills in the woods far away

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