Two strengths, elemental magic and healing. She likes that. It's not something she can put into words, but being a refugee changed something about Hawke. She's a fighter, always will be, knows someone must be, but it's not enough. It's not even what's most important, to her mind. What matters is what happens after the fighting, the rebuilding process. That Anders is capable of both causing and healing damage is something she envies.
Though perhaps she has some healing abilities of her own after all; perhaps that's something she can give him. Or if not healing, at least comfort, understanding. She listens, feels the moment of tension as he speaks, the deliberate release of it, the way he uses her skin and presence to ground himself to now. Eventually she takes his hand from her hip and brings it to her mouth, kissing it in silent, brief gratitude that he's here, trusting her not just with this story, but with himself. That he's finally let himself love her despite all of this.
All she says is, "Turned the tables on you, did he?" There's a quirk of a smile. It sounds a bit familiar. Teasing, goading, and flirting with Anders had become...not routine, but second-nature, to a point where even though she still wanted a response beyond more banter she had no real expectation of getting one, not after three years of hedging and refusal and reluctance. His sudden capitulation and that starving kiss had caught her by surprise.
Though perhaps she has some healing abilities of her own after all; perhaps that's something she can give him. Or if not healing, at least comfort, understanding. She listens, feels the moment of tension as he speaks, the deliberate release of it, the way he uses her skin and presence to ground himself to now. Eventually she takes his hand from her hip and brings it to her mouth, kissing it in silent, brief gratitude that he's here, trusting her not just with this story, but with himself. That he's finally let himself love her despite all of this.
All she says is, "Turned the tables on you, did he?" There's a quirk of a smile. It sounds a bit familiar. Teasing, goading, and flirting with Anders had become...not routine, but second-nature, to a point where even though she still wanted a response beyond more banter she had no real expectation of getting one, not after three years of hedging and refusal and reluctance. His sudden capitulation and that starving kiss had caught her by surprise.
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