And to finish it off...
Part one
Part two
.:+:.
Twenty-two. Twenty-two.
He was only sodding twenty-two.
Maker, my father hadn't even died yet when I was his age. And here he was, looking at the ground, wearing the clothes he'd planned to die in, that he'd bought specific to die in, blank and somber and covered in the new feathers because the only thing he'd wanted to indulge for his own death was that he die with my name wrapped around him.
He'd expected to be executed, wanted to be, and it was why he had even come forward with the deed instead of raising the mages and declaring it proudly once it had been done.
They didn't kill him; they instead asked me to do it. Like they hadn't noticed that the man I had join me at all my parties, the man they'd seen me kiss and hold and promise my heart to, was the same man that was now openly apostate and abomination and held his head high with his actions. They wanted to see him dead, by my hand, had sat him to be executed, facing away from me.
I held my dagger up against his spine, the same exact spot where only the night before I'd dug my heel into as I screamed and riled for him, begging so desperately for his cock and reassuring him again and again I'd never leave him, that I'd love him no matter what, despite the secrets he told me.
A spot I'd stabbed many men in, knowing that it would sever their spine and leave the death painless for the remaining split-second before I could slip my blade into their heart and cut them short with a simple little twist.
And then he even asked me to kill him. I was amazed my blade didn't waver, that my hands were steady.
My hand was on the dagger only long enough for Meredith and Orsino to leave, then I dropped it to the ground.
"I promised you anything, and I'll swear to it still," I said under my breath as he stood up in shock. I gave him a quick smile, knowing it usually melted him, and I wanted to drag him away then and there, comfort him, swear I understood.
I did understand.
I'd've done the same, and worse, to protect him and Bethany alone, much less an entire population.
But I was old enough to deal with it, I knew how to face the consequences. Anders was still the same bratty, selfish thing I'd met seven years before.
Sebastian threatened me blindly, but I heard none of it, speaking distantly in response. Others had already left because of my ties always being towards my family over what was right. But Varric was telling us to head to the courtyard, and he was right so I told him and Merrill to go on ahead. I grabbed Anders’ wrist before he could run off with them. He wanted to lead the charge.
I wanted him out of his damn funeral coat.
He always said I wasn't as mature as him, whining and lamenting that he wanted his men with so much more experience and wisdom. Perhaps he meant for moments like this, when all I could think about was taking off his clothes, and he didn't have a chance to stop me before I'd undone his coat, yanked off his belt and his pauldrons and dropped them to the ground. The coat I threw aside, perhaps a waste of my coin as well as good leather and silk but something I never wanted to see again so to hell with it.
When I started to unbuckle my waistwraps in order to strip off my shirt, Anders took my hands. "We don't have time for a tryst," he said.
"Then help me get this damn shirt off," I ordered, wresting free and continuing with the buckles.
"Why?"
"Because you just started a war, love. We should go deal with that."
"No, I meant, why do you need to take that off?"
"Because you're wearing it out of here. We'll both be less obvious that way."
He looked at my shirt as I finished undoing it- Maybe we did have time for a quick bout, if he was going to keep watching so intently like that. No, no, we had to run. "It's bright red. Very famously bright red. You've been wearing it for weeks now."
"I happen to like it. I look good in red."
"As much as I agree with you-"
"It'll be less red covered in those feathers," I pointed out, slipping out of it. I kept the hood and my own pauldrons, tying them loosely back on over the thin shirt I'd worn under everything. "And it'll fit close enough. It'll only be few a few hours, anyway," I added as I handed him the shirt.
"Why?"
"Because once we get to the Wounded Coast, I've got my dog waiting with new clothes for each of us, and supplies for the next month, and Bodahn got me secret routes to Orlais, Rivain or Antiva. Or we can sneak back to Fereldan. Your pick."
Anders looked confused, and hadn't gotten redressed yet. I sighed and took it back, putting it over him and tugging it closed. "What?" he finally asked.
"You're fond of those sort of questions, aren't you?" I started on the buckles, making quick work of them although it was a bit tighter than on myself.
"Not so much the Howes," he managed.
"There you are. Being funny again. That's the Anders I love. Less of this moping now, and you look rather good in my clothes, I should buy you more reds. The what is that I have our escape plan in the ready for when we finish here, because love, we will need to escape. And the why is, Justice, because Anders couldn't help but tell me last night when you let us have our final peace. You told me never to hurt him, you ass, but you had him in tears when he told me it was our last time together, making him all the pain from the last time you'd said that except he felt it was even more certain this time around, and he already was feeling guilty enough he wanted me to stop him. And I didn't. I'm the one at fault here, I've taken that burden from you. It would've been easy to warn anyone or to just stop it, Justice, but when you asked me to love him despite everything, I just assumed that meant carrying his guilt for him now and then."
"I'm not Justice-"
"No. You're both at once. Vengeance. And that might as well be a third person. And I think only Anders himself knows that. Lucky for you I'm crazy about at least two thirds of you, jury's still out on your babysitter. But if it's all the same, let me handle a bit of the vengeance part and let Anders have a bit of his youth back? He only has twenty years left, and he should enjoy them."
Anders lowered his eyes. I scooped up his feathers for him, draping them on his shoulders. "And there's also that the last time Justice told him that we only had one more night together, I didn't let him win then, either. You're too young to lose so much hope. Have a little faith in the world. Or at least me. You can trust I know what I'm doing. And besides. The thing Anders is best at is running away. The thing I'm best at is staying hidden to protect who I love. And I'd done it for twenty-six years before I'd ever met you lot. You always say you want a man with experience, don't you?" I smirked while he latched them on, taking that as his acceptance. "There's nothing either of us can know more on than this."
It was strange when he kissed me then. I always knew when it was Anders in dominance, or when it was Anders by himself even from the only two nights we'd shared, or when it was Justice pretending to be Anders for my benefit. But I'd never felt all three in one kiss before, the raw lust and desperation for attention of Anders and the gentle sadness but reluctant approval of Justice and the hesitating compassion of Vengeance, I suppose is the right name. Or I could call Vengeance Anders and Anders by the name I promised to keep silent for him, except it was a name he despised.
"Can I have a kitten?" he asked suddenly. "I'd rather like another kitten. I can carry it around in my coat again, if you've gotten me another coat that is, and I'll feed it myself and I promise this time I won't let it piss in my clothes, not even by accident. Can it be another tabby? I've always especially liked tabbies."
He was standing there, bodies and rubble of his own deeds scattered around, wearing my clothes in a remarkably sexy fashion with that bright red against the blond paleness of him and looking far too fuckable considering our time restraints, with his own war about to start waging only a short walk away, and he had the time to think about pets.
Spoiled. Petulant. Child.
I told him so as I kissed him once more before heading into battle, jerking him close and hearing him laugh against my teeth.
Part two
.:+:.
Twenty-two. Twenty-two.
He was only sodding twenty-two.
Maker, my father hadn't even died yet when I was his age. And here he was, looking at the ground, wearing the clothes he'd planned to die in, that he'd bought specific to die in, blank and somber and covered in the new feathers because the only thing he'd wanted to indulge for his own death was that he die with my name wrapped around him.
He'd expected to be executed, wanted to be, and it was why he had even come forward with the deed instead of raising the mages and declaring it proudly once it had been done.
They didn't kill him; they instead asked me to do it. Like they hadn't noticed that the man I had join me at all my parties, the man they'd seen me kiss and hold and promise my heart to, was the same man that was now openly apostate and abomination and held his head high with his actions. They wanted to see him dead, by my hand, had sat him to be executed, facing away from me.
I held my dagger up against his spine, the same exact spot where only the night before I'd dug my heel into as I screamed and riled for him, begging so desperately for his cock and reassuring him again and again I'd never leave him, that I'd love him no matter what, despite the secrets he told me.
A spot I'd stabbed many men in, knowing that it would sever their spine and leave the death painless for the remaining split-second before I could slip my blade into their heart and cut them short with a simple little twist.
And then he even asked me to kill him. I was amazed my blade didn't waver, that my hands were steady.
My hand was on the dagger only long enough for Meredith and Orsino to leave, then I dropped it to the ground.
"I promised you anything, and I'll swear to it still," I said under my breath as he stood up in shock. I gave him a quick smile, knowing it usually melted him, and I wanted to drag him away then and there, comfort him, swear I understood.
I did understand.
I'd've done the same, and worse, to protect him and Bethany alone, much less an entire population.
But I was old enough to deal with it, I knew how to face the consequences. Anders was still the same bratty, selfish thing I'd met seven years before.
Sebastian threatened me blindly, but I heard none of it, speaking distantly in response. Others had already left because of my ties always being towards my family over what was right. But Varric was telling us to head to the courtyard, and he was right so I told him and Merrill to go on ahead. I grabbed Anders’ wrist before he could run off with them. He wanted to lead the charge.
I wanted him out of his damn funeral coat.
He always said I wasn't as mature as him, whining and lamenting that he wanted his men with so much more experience and wisdom. Perhaps he meant for moments like this, when all I could think about was taking off his clothes, and he didn't have a chance to stop me before I'd undone his coat, yanked off his belt and his pauldrons and dropped them to the ground. The coat I threw aside, perhaps a waste of my coin as well as good leather and silk but something I never wanted to see again so to hell with it.
When I started to unbuckle my waistwraps in order to strip off my shirt, Anders took my hands. "We don't have time for a tryst," he said.
"Then help me get this damn shirt off," I ordered, wresting free and continuing with the buckles.
"Why?"
"Because you just started a war, love. We should go deal with that."
"No, I meant, why do you need to take that off?"
"Because you're wearing it out of here. We'll both be less obvious that way."
He looked at my shirt as I finished undoing it- Maybe we did have time for a quick bout, if he was going to keep watching so intently like that. No, no, we had to run. "It's bright red. Very famously bright red. You've been wearing it for weeks now."
"I happen to like it. I look good in red."
"As much as I agree with you-"
"It'll be less red covered in those feathers," I pointed out, slipping out of it. I kept the hood and my own pauldrons, tying them loosely back on over the thin shirt I'd worn under everything. "And it'll fit close enough. It'll only be few a few hours, anyway," I added as I handed him the shirt.
"Why?"
"Because once we get to the Wounded Coast, I've got my dog waiting with new clothes for each of us, and supplies for the next month, and Bodahn got me secret routes to Orlais, Rivain or Antiva. Or we can sneak back to Fereldan. Your pick."
Anders looked confused, and hadn't gotten redressed yet. I sighed and took it back, putting it over him and tugging it closed. "What?" he finally asked.
"You're fond of those sort of questions, aren't you?" I started on the buckles, making quick work of them although it was a bit tighter than on myself.
"Not so much the Howes," he managed.
"There you are. Being funny again. That's the Anders I love. Less of this moping now, and you look rather good in my clothes, I should buy you more reds. The what is that I have our escape plan in the ready for when we finish here, because love, we will need to escape. And the why is, Justice, because Anders couldn't help but tell me last night when you let us have our final peace. You told me never to hurt him, you ass, but you had him in tears when he told me it was our last time together, making him all the pain from the last time you'd said that except he felt it was even more certain this time around, and he already was feeling guilty enough he wanted me to stop him. And I didn't. I'm the one at fault here, I've taken that burden from you. It would've been easy to warn anyone or to just stop it, Justice, but when you asked me to love him despite everything, I just assumed that meant carrying his guilt for him now and then."
"I'm not Justice-"
"No. You're both at once. Vengeance. And that might as well be a third person. And I think only Anders himself knows that. Lucky for you I'm crazy about at least two thirds of you, jury's still out on your babysitter. But if it's all the same, let me handle a bit of the vengeance part and let Anders have a bit of his youth back? He only has twenty years left, and he should enjoy them."
Anders lowered his eyes. I scooped up his feathers for him, draping them on his shoulders. "And there's also that the last time Justice told him that we only had one more night together, I didn't let him win then, either. You're too young to lose so much hope. Have a little faith in the world. Or at least me. You can trust I know what I'm doing. And besides. The thing Anders is best at is running away. The thing I'm best at is staying hidden to protect who I love. And I'd done it for twenty-six years before I'd ever met you lot. You always say you want a man with experience, don't you?" I smirked while he latched them on, taking that as his acceptance. "There's nothing either of us can know more on than this."
It was strange when he kissed me then. I always knew when it was Anders in dominance, or when it was Anders by himself even from the only two nights we'd shared, or when it was Justice pretending to be Anders for my benefit. But I'd never felt all three in one kiss before, the raw lust and desperation for attention of Anders and the gentle sadness but reluctant approval of Justice and the hesitating compassion of Vengeance, I suppose is the right name. Or I could call Vengeance Anders and Anders by the name I promised to keep silent for him, except it was a name he despised.
"Can I have a kitten?" he asked suddenly. "I'd rather like another kitten. I can carry it around in my coat again, if you've gotten me another coat that is, and I'll feed it myself and I promise this time I won't let it piss in my clothes, not even by accident. Can it be another tabby? I've always especially liked tabbies."
He was standing there, bodies and rubble of his own deeds scattered around, wearing my clothes in a remarkably sexy fashion with that bright red against the blond paleness of him and looking far too fuckable considering our time restraints, with his own war about to start waging only a short walk away, and he had the time to think about pets.
Spoiled. Petulant. Child.
I told him so as I kissed him once more before heading into battle, jerking him close and hearing him laugh against my teeth.