makinglies | Duplicity AU: Justice for a General

The kiss catches him completely by surprise but he responds automatically, eyes closed and face tilted in to press back, chaste but needing for the thrill in his chest and the small contented sound that slips from him unbidden.

Then the pressure is gone and Anders is left reeling, even Justice blissfully silent for a moment, the thrum seemed...less, like just after the Chantry rained debris on the city. A moment of deep satisfaction. Alaric returns to where he was and Anders' arms tightening around him as the hum returns, softer, hesitant...confused. He dipped his fingers into the water and let some mana spill out, bringing the water back up to just a bit beyond comfortable.

"Alaric...I...you probably-" He let the words fall away, unsure where they were headed other than 'you shouldn't do that' and 'I would like to do that more too' but both sounded wrong. He turned his mind to something else instead, he shouldn't think about it. If he acknowledged it, he could ruin it.

"Thank you....are you feeling any better?"

He should protest the use of effort to keep the water this hot, he really should, but it feels so amazingly good. Cold rivers, baths that take too long to heat to ever be completely hot-- hot water at all is luxury and he should not be falling into the absolute hedonistic enjoyment of how hot this water is.

Yet, he absolutely was. It felt good. Would feel good even if his body hadn't been ...pushed through the day, but with that? It was so incredible it made him sink down a little lower and (incredibly softly) groan.

He takes Anders' hand, lifts it and kisses the inside of Anders' wrist before settling Anders hand back down and covering it with his own. "I should what?"

He's glad Alaric can't see him, really, because the way the line of his back relaxes and that soft noise he barely even caught puts a small, self-satisfied smirk on his face.

He might be terrible at this, connections and affections, but he was good with his magic. A mage always needed good control, both over their magic and over themselves, to avoid possession and hurting others.

Well...he'd walked into both. But he did have good control.

He debated on answering Alaric, letting him know that he shouldn't get too attached or care too much, Anders had broken pieces that stuck out and cut when people came too close. He'd lost every friend he'd had, even Hawke, and he would surely lose Alaric too. Likely by hurting him.

That was asking to open his chest a bit more than he trusted himself too, than Justice trusted him to. He leaned forward to brush his lips to Alaric's back. "You should enjoy your bath and let me clean your hair."

He knows there are things there that aren't being said - that much still works, at least most of the time.

But the important thing is that when Anders pushes back, even gently, ALaric... doesn't roll over, so much as stops and admits that this is also a thing he should do and then does it. He releases Anders' hands from his own.

"I suppose you would have a hard time running away at the same time as doing my hair, but I will be coming back to this when we've finished."

Please just - touch him. Hair washing counts. Just touch him. Affectionately, with care, from a known person and maybe some sensuality. That need... has not gone away, at all.

"Hmm." He put that thought aside for a moment and set to work on getting the soaps for Alaric's hair, gently lathering it and running it from roots to tips as a comfortable silence fell between them. Once the soap was in, he encouraged Alaric to sink further down and folded one foot under his right leg so it was elevated enough to give the other man a place to lay back so Anders could work the suds from his hair.

Even once he was sure the soap was out, he continued combing his fingers through the long strands. "What's this about 'running away' that you're so concerned with?"

It tookvery little encouragement for him to lean back and give Anders all the access to Alaric's hair that Anders could possibly want. He, in fact, melted into it - though he took the opportunity to trail his fingers up and down Anders' calf and ankle when he was there.

He didn't answer immediately. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He closed his eyes and carried on the rhythmic touch, as much self-soothing as simply soothing.

"I feel like if you leave, it will be to do something stupid that will get you hurt. I don't want you to."

When pushed by a direct question though? At least this time, he answered.

His fingers hesitated as he processed that, his expression turning through a few emotions that he barely had time to register, let alone keep off his face. Surprise, warmth, confusion, concern, which melted into dim resignation as his thoughts suddenly split in two directions. He wanted to promise he would stay, that whatever was going on out there wasn't nearly as important as the look in Alaric's eyes or the words he offered, but Justice couldn't abide. He's diverted attention from what is truly important long enough. It doesn't matter, you can heal, it is a pointless concern.

"I appreciate that. It means...a lot that you think that, but you don't need to worry. My intention isn't for stupidity, but for answers. I should find out what it is that's hurting people. That hurt you. I very much doubt I can be affected by it." Justice wouldn't allow it, just as he prevented anything else from getting in, demons or blood magic or any other unknown abilities in this place. Anders had confidence in that, at least. "I'm not looking to get hurt, but I promise I'd be perfectly safe and anything that might hurt me, I can heal."

There was a frustration that wasn't his own that ran up his spine like burning fingers that traced the bone quickly, but he ignored it. Justice held plenty of his time, Anders wanted to give some of it to Alaric.

"It is sex," he said, quiet but with clipped precision. "Whatever it is, is making people have sex. You cannot heal people from the uncontrollable desire to have sex. You cannot heal that in anyone, least of all yourself. I should have come home and stayed here when I realized I was affected, but I didn't. You won't be any different. Simply guilty for all the people you have sex with."

Why can't he ever get through to men like this? He didn't know. He wished he knew, desperately. Even if he could get through to Anders he would not interfere with his free will but it made him want to scream.

Not that he would ever do such a thing but the desire? Just a little? It was there.

Complacent.

Anders sighed and felt the thrum strengthen in him "No, it's not, if it was just sex, we wouldn't be receiving patients by the hour who need help. How can I just sit here when I could do something to make it stop? I do have protections, I know I wouldn't be affected the same way."

It was just sex, but it also wasn't and, more than that, it had hurt Alaric. Maybe not physically, but emotionally, and that...at the very least that had to matter. "It effected you. It hurt you. How can you say it was nothing?"

He was trying to remain calm, but there was a hitch to his voice as he fought back the surge of irritation that wasn't entirely his own. One small, flicker of blue shot through his eyes and vanished as Justice tested his control.

When he felt like that background, white-noise, anger (all that he ever got from Angers) surged louder, Alaric flinched.

But he also snarled. Defensively and silently (lips peeled back away from his teeth), to be sure, but undeniably a snarl. "I didn't say it was nothing, I said it was sex and that as such you were not immune and you could not heal it."

Anders registered the flinch somewhere in his mind but couldn't think twice about it, not with Justice's ire flaring hotter, taking Anders' drive for vengeance on whatever this spell or entity was and using that to fuel the push in Anders.

"You don't understand! Justice-" Anders bit his own tongue for how quickly he shut his mouth against that. If Alaric knew, he'd probably hate him too and he wasn't sure he could stand that. Yet the stronger he fought against the spirit, the more he could feel control slipping. He dug his fingers to his closed eyes, willing the surge of fade energy to subside. There was a momentary snap and the resulting cracks in his skin that flickered like blue lightning down his face, shoulders, arms and then faded as though never there, was unmistakable.

No!

His voice was strained, like a rope waiting to snap. "Please, just...understand, I am safe, I won't fall prey, I won't have sex with people I don't want to, but I do want to keep you safe."

Edited 2020-10-02 03:11 (UTC)

There was no mistaking the psychic change in... noise level for want of a more concrete description, and the cracks appearing in Anders skin was even more clear.

In contrast the tightly coiling energy in Alaric was invisible and silent but he was absolutely prepared to lash out and lash out hard if necessary. He didn't want it to be necessary but when he understood as little as he did--

Strong offense as defense was what he had. He went aloof, cool, and very, very still and composed.

"You cannot keep me safe if you are not here."

If he stays here, he can keep an eye on Alaric in person, he can protect him if anything comes looking for him, nothing could get through Anders.

If he stays here, the city remains in danger and countless people suffer and something wrong and malicious is loosed on the city. What if it is a Desire Demon? Demons couldn't be abided by.

"Enough." His voice isn't only his own, a deeper one, with an echo of a place too far removed overlaps and mingles and he isn't sure if he's talking to himself, Justice, Anders, or Alaric.

If he doesn't regain control, would Justice hurt Alaric? Would it be like that girl from the circle, seconds from death at Vengeance's (Anders') hands? Would he be forced to watch through blue-tinted eyes as his body betrayed him? Or would he simply wake up with his friend's blood on his hands?

If he stays complacent, he is complicit, how much of the pain in this city is his fault? If he focuses on one boy, how many souls will scream out for justice because he was too selfish to-

Anders scooped the water up and threw it into his own face, the change in temperature the shock to his system he needed to shake his head and press down. "Enough." Now it was only Anders...quiet...tired, eyes glued to his hands in the water as though he could see the blood be washed from them now, even as he knew it wasn't true.

He felt wrung out, stretched too far and hollowed. Justice sat like a low rumble of a distant storm in the back of his mind, subsiding, but a vicious headache in his place as retribution.

"I'm sorry...you're right. I'll...I should go- from the bath, not-" Despite his fumbling attempts at a sentence, he didn't move, not immediately. He focused instead on the temperature again, something he could actually control.

He did not understand what he was seeing - had seen, was hearing. There were things it reminded him of - really, really, horrifying things involving people who had been and were dead - but it was not quite right.

It was all terrifying, and yet it was still the man who had seen him when he'd first arrived in the city and eased his headache. Who had offered him a contract. Who was now trying to remove himself from Alaric, uncertain and clearly upset.

And yet there was-

He didn't understand.

There was still soap in his hair. What an inane, but very clear thought to have then. He stayed silent, watching Anders, then slowly moved himself enough to turn around in the water. He put his hands slowly on Ander's shoulders and pulled himself into his lap, knees pressed between the tub and Ander's hips. Naked but absolutely not being seductive.

"Look at my instead," he said, softly.

The water was warm again and Anders told himself he'd stand up, he really would, in a moment. When he was sure the headache wouldn't make him sway, that was the reason, not because part of him was afraid of Alaric's expression. His response. Anders had lived with this for a third of his life now, he knew when he'd let too much slip through, when he was close to losing control completely and letting Justice free. Alaric wasn't an idiot, he'd seen something, Anders was sure.

Yet just as he'd started to find his resolve to actually leave, Alaric was in his lap, Anders hands coming up to rest at his hips on instinct even as his gaze snapped up to meet Alaric's eyes. He was confused and scared and beyond worried.

Why wasn't he furious or afraid or hateful? Why wasn't he simply sending Anders from him as anyone sane should with an abomination?

"Why? Why are you trying to comfort me? I just..." Still, his grip tightened on Alaric's hips even as he questioned, not for anything more than a quite need to not lose the grounding contact.

He wasn't defensively snarling and lashing out anymore. He just looked - just was - confused and very, very worried.

He was capable of handling what he had to handle. He knew that. That confidence - near arrogance - afforded him some freedom. Just like who Anders was around him, afforded Anders some compassion.

The hands on his hips also felt... really good and, for him in that moment incredibly reassuring. Ironic, he knew, but true. It grounded him as well.

"Because something is," very, "wrong."

No nonono....he can't shouldn't get into this. Yet he was already in it, they both were, Alaric had seen...but how was Anders supposed to explain? Merely calling himself an 'abomination' wouldn't work, it would merely sound self-depreciating, even as the word itself was accurate in his context.

He should have known better than to contract with someone, even Alaric, with his...unique situation. No, perhaps, it would have been better to simply tell Alaric from the get go.

"It's not new...this isn't something the city has done, it's something...I have done, seven years ago when I was barely older than you. I have lived with it- him- this with mixed results. I thought it wouldn't be a problem, but I was wrong." He shook his head, his eyes falling to Alaric's chest. "I understand if you aren't comfortable being around me, he's- we're a lot. That? What just happened? That was a good day. I can get you your own place, someplace secluded. You've no need to stay with me while we're contracted." Maker, please, just leave it.

There were many, many reactions he could have had. His overwhelming and immediate one however was his confusion sharpening because it sounded like Anders was saying-

"You're possessed?"

He was Deryni, but he was also Catholic.

It was what he had.

Anders flinched like he'd been slapped and blinked blankly at Alaric's chest.

Of course. Of course possession and demons and everything about that wouldn't be a uniquely Thedas thing, he would only be so lucky or unlucky, as the case may be. That...simplified things, if also not at all.

"Yes..." he said it slowly, then brought his eyes back up to meet Alaric's. "I don't know how it works for you, but only mages may be possessed by demons in Thedas. We're trained to learn signs and avoid them and protect ourselves from them. For my case...I accepted a spirit into my soul, he was a very dear friend, trapped outside of his home and in mine. I offered to help, thinking a willing friend would make it easier. Yet I corrupted him, my anger turned him into something harsher than he used to be."

'Since when is Justice soft? Justice is righteous and hard.'
Since when is Justice angry? That was him

"His name is Justice and he is a spirit that embodies that virtue and all it means." Including slipping into Vengeance instead. Maybe it was more vengeance than not these days.

They were naked.

They were in a bathtub.

Alaric was sitting in Anders' lap with soap drying in his hair.

Alaric was effectively aware of none of the ridiculousness of that situation. He was deeply uneasy and uncomfortable, but he kept it off his face - along with most other expression.

He had the urge to shift, or fidget or just move. He didn't.

At least, he thought, he had information now, and information that made some sense, at that.

"Why was a demon your friend?"

'He wasn't a demon, he was a spirit, they're different things.' Was what he wanted to say, to explain any of this peacefully, calmly. Instead, he hears Alaric say 'demon' and everything seems to go blue. He can only watch as his hands push Alaric back with supernatural strength and his body stands, unnoticing and uncaring of his state of dress as a spirit has no awareness of physical forms and no shame for them. "I am no demon." The voice was not Anders, but something deeper and heavier with a terrible and righteous confidence.

Justice stands and the blue cracks erupt as fissures from the bright blue glow of his eyes, branching out, down his face, his necks, his shoulders and chest, going thinner and further with the spirit in control. More than that, is the blue haze that surrounds his movements like an after-image.

Anders fought with every scrap of himself he could snatch, screaming from his own mind not to hurt him, to listen to reason, to leave him be. Perhaps Justice would have listened, only taken with irritation and offense, Vengeance hadn't been the friend Anders remember in a long time and certainly not since the Chantry. He watched and felt the mana brewing in his hands, his fire magic crackling in the air as Vengeance prepared to cast it at his 'enemy.'

He was not going to stay down while whatever thing was wearing Anders' body loomed over him; he stood up and he glared.

He had magic. He could lash out - with raw force, with a spell, with telekensis. He had options. They were at his metaphorical fingertips. He used them only to form a shield around himself, of force and power that shimmered just faintly but without color.

"Then stop acting like one," he snapped. Honestly? He was afraid. He was angry. He still, somehow, managed to come across like he was talking to a naughty six year old. It was just what he did under those sorts of circumstances.

Justice brought the fireball down on the shield and the flames broke against them uselessly. "You do not know me. You cannot understand. You stand in the way of righteousness and what is just."

The fire died away -a useless endeavor- and he switches tactics, reaching to Anders' magic to pull on something more effective. He curled Anders' fist and the swirl of white mana surrounded the nuisance and began pressing in, threatening to crush Alaric with an unseen force the moment that barrier gave way. Justice could maintain this, even if he needed to dip into Anders' health to do so. It would be a worthwhile sacrifice to remove this obstruction to their goal.

"There is nothing just-"

He could probably try to maintain a standoff. He might even manage for quite a while, but it seemed like a less than effective tactic. Also, he was furious.

He shoved out abruptly and hard, with that wall of invisible force.

"-about abusing someone who tried to help you, you asinine child!"

The force is not unlike Anders' own Mind Blast spell and Justice recognizes it. Unfortunately, recognizing it didn't change a human body's response and Justice's inability to do anything more than break the majority of the tension to avoid harm. It still resulted in Justice stumbling back, though he had no real perception of his surroundings and Anders' foot caught the edge of the tub and sent them sprawling back out onto the floor. The force, fall, and an unkind greeting of Anders' head with the tile had the energy in the room and the haze snapping out of existence like a broken band. The cracks blinked out and normal amber eyes were left blinking numbly at the ceiling.

"What..?" Anders sat up on one elbow, his other hand pressing to his head as he looked back up to Alaric with a look of horror. "I'm so sorry."

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