Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apurrstate) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2016-05-10 10:25 pm
apurrstate) wrote in makinglies2016-05-10 10:25 pm
Entry tags:
An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown
The crackle of the fire was the only sound in the camp and the silence surrounding it was deafening.
Their group was so small now, much smaller than it had been only a week ago. A week and everything had changed. That had been his plan, after all...but it had gotten out of hand in Kirkwall, the devastation of the fighting had been so much worse than he'd imagined. Still, he wouldn't change it. Looking around the fire, Hawke and Varric to one side, Merrill asleep at another and Aveline and Carver left in the city now days at their backs, he still wouldn't change it. Isabella long gone, Fenris dead...all he had to do was think back to the years when they were a larger group to know what was missing...and he still wouldn't change it.
It had to happen and while maybe part of him wished it didn't have to be him who carried out the act, he knew too, that he couldn't simply ask someone else to do what he wasn't willing to.
It should have ended for him that night, it was what he'd planned. Instead it didn't, his love had spared him and somehow made him see the next day...and the day after. Each new day Anders saw drew new surprise and a mixture of hope and defeat. Hope that maybe there'd be another day after this one as well, but defeat in knowing it couldn't possibly last.
He'd put his life in Adalwolfe's hands and it hadn't been ended, he'd said they'd need to run away from the city to remain together and, at the gates of Kirkwall, Hawke had said his goodbyes to long-time friend and brother and led the way out into the Free Marches. It would have to end at some point, this kind of luck didn't last.
Anders stood and quietly stepped away from the fire and the group's small camp. He wouldn't be able to find sleep anytime soon anyway. Hawke had slept apart from him (understandably so) and Anders found it hard to bare after years of feeling that warmth pressed in his arms. Yet he didn't ask and Hawke didn't offer and Anders continued not to sleep but for minutes at a time. He should be used to it, perhaps life in Hightown had softened him up too much. His few steps took him to the edge of the land, the drop off below leading straight into the ocean they were following for now. He leaned against a large rock set in the ground and gave a sigh.
What if he simply stepped off the ledge and fell to the waters below? That would be easier for his companions, wouldn't it? They could go back to their lives while the fires of his rebellion continued to burn across Thedas and the people he'd murdered could have their justice at last. What was he living for, anyway? The love of his life spared him for...some reason and didn't even banish him from his side and yet he barely looked at him. His friends wouldn't look at him. Even Justice seemed so muted as to almost be gone, like fulfilling Their goal had snuffed the spirit out. Only that faint hum in the back of his mind told him it wasn't true.
It would be easier...
His feet stayed planted where they were. He wouldn't take those extra steps. Perhaps there was still a part of him that was a coward afterall. His eyes left the surf and lifted to the starry sky instead
Their group was so small now, much smaller than it had been only a week ago. A week and everything had changed. That had been his plan, after all...but it had gotten out of hand in Kirkwall, the devastation of the fighting had been so much worse than he'd imagined. Still, he wouldn't change it. Looking around the fire, Hawke and Varric to one side, Merrill asleep at another and Aveline and Carver left in the city now days at their backs, he still wouldn't change it. Isabella long gone, Fenris dead...all he had to do was think back to the years when they were a larger group to know what was missing...and he still wouldn't change it.
It had to happen and while maybe part of him wished it didn't have to be him who carried out the act, he knew too, that he couldn't simply ask someone else to do what he wasn't willing to.
It should have ended for him that night, it was what he'd planned. Instead it didn't, his love had spared him and somehow made him see the next day...and the day after. Each new day Anders saw drew new surprise and a mixture of hope and defeat. Hope that maybe there'd be another day after this one as well, but defeat in knowing it couldn't possibly last.
He'd put his life in Adalwolfe's hands and it hadn't been ended, he'd said they'd need to run away from the city to remain together and, at the gates of Kirkwall, Hawke had said his goodbyes to long-time friend and brother and led the way out into the Free Marches. It would have to end at some point, this kind of luck didn't last.
Anders stood and quietly stepped away from the fire and the group's small camp. He wouldn't be able to find sleep anytime soon anyway. Hawke had slept apart from him (understandably so) and Anders found it hard to bare after years of feeling that warmth pressed in his arms. Yet he didn't ask and Hawke didn't offer and Anders continued not to sleep but for minutes at a time. He should be used to it, perhaps life in Hightown had softened him up too much. His few steps took him to the edge of the land, the drop off below leading straight into the ocean they were following for now. He leaned against a large rock set in the ground and gave a sigh.
What if he simply stepped off the ledge and fell to the waters below? That would be easier for his companions, wouldn't it? They could go back to their lives while the fires of his rebellion continued to burn across Thedas and the people he'd murdered could have their justice at last. What was he living for, anyway? The love of his life spared him for...some reason and didn't even banish him from his side and yet he barely looked at him. His friends wouldn't look at him. Even Justice seemed so muted as to almost be gone, like fulfilling Their goal had snuffed the spirit out. Only that faint hum in the back of his mind told him it wasn't true.
It would be easier...
His feet stayed planted where they were. He wouldn't take those extra steps. Perhaps there was still a part of him that was a coward afterall. His eyes left the surf and lifted to the starry sky instead
no subject
Only it was. And he could see it. He wouldn't have done it, but perhaps thought something must be done. Confronted Meredith, still killed her because of the lyrium poisoning and brought the Chantry down on Kirkwall in the process. He may not have ever think of planting a bomb, but the yearning for change was there, the want for choice, and the knowledge that it would not come without bloodshed.
Everything he'd worked for was gone, and it would have been gone either way because he's Adalwolfe Hawke, and he can never really back down when he sees suffering. Sees anyone suffering.
And Anders had suffered enough.
"Always."