[He could say what he really thinks, that Justice is Vengeance and has lost sight of what is actually Just under that transformation. He could say that, but it would be too aggressive. He could also try and make a joke about it, tell him he's Just trying to help, and no need to get Anders' knickers in a knot about it. A subtle jab at whose body he's inhabiting. But no, that's not right either. Too familiar. Justice wants to be respected, to be considered, and Hawke can't fault him for that.]
I would find you another host, one with a mind that cannot or will not influence what you are and will not be influenced in return. I warn you it may not be another person, as that would just cause the same issue over again, but there are other beings. That is, if you're willing.
[He shifts his weight, knowing this will make or break Justice's cooperation.]
You're a person of your own, and this effects you just as much as Anders. I don't want to leave you out of the decision making. That would be unjust.
[Not a joke, a statement of fact, as amusing as it is on the surface.]
[It would be unjust and Justice respects that Hawke sees that, but it's not what his words focus on. His body language becomes agitated. Human. Small tells that would normally belong to Anders follow the same pattern with the spirit.]
No. [It's sharp and firm and his hands clench at his sides.]
I do not want another person. I never did. And I will not accept a corpse.
[But instead...instead he would be in a creature? An animal, likely. It would offer him another view of the world as he'd once longed for, but would it not just be another prison, another limitation he was shackled in as he lost even the ability to talk? And what about the animal itself? 'A cat that lacks freedom...']
Whatever creature you chose as my vessel would be no better than a slave to me, it would lack freedom and that is unjust.
[His anger pulsed again and he strode back to Hawke as though advancing on him, but he still kept some distance.]
You should have granted our victims justice when we offered it! You should have freed us then instead of selfishly denying justice and peace!
And what about my justice, then? Don't you think I've done enough to warrant the peace of having Anders by my side?
[It's an outburst and he doesn't mean for it to be. His grip tightens on his staff again and he swallows, knowing his voice broke just a little. His mind races, going through options. He thinks hard on what he spoke about with Felix, on how this could work. Make Justice a slug. Or a toaster, or-- that's it!]
There are... alternatives. This world is very different from Thedas. They have these things called droids. They're like... well they're sort of like Golems, but without control rods. They have autonomy, but not a consciousness. Some have been programmed for specific purposes like cleaning, but if you were to be put in one, I'm sure you could supersede that, and you wouldn't be taking the life of anyone else.
[He's quiet, empty eyes staring at Hawke's face and then past it.]
That...may be acceptable. I would like to know more, however. You can tell Anders of it, whatever you find.
[He's quiet again but a moment later those vortex eyes snap back to Hawke.]
Do not think, simply because I am a spirit, that I do not understand. It is true that most spirits do not understand values and emotions that do not pertain to them, particularly love, but I am no longer like them.
The man whose body I possessed before was named Kristoff. He was a Grey Warden who died at the hands of Darkspawn unjustly. He had a wife. It was through his memories and later meeting her, seeing her pain, wanting to help her, I began to understand. Part of me even began to long for a connection so strong. Through Anders, I have learned more.
I understand what he means to you and what you mean to him. I also understand what he means to me. I do not wish him suffering, but he was as prepared to die as I was prepared to let him. That would not have been unjust, perhaps unfair to you, but not unjust.
[The reply is quiet, much softer than the booming voice of Justice, echoing even when the room doesn't cause it.]
Not... not about Kristoff, but I do know you were prepared to die, and I know he was too. Still is.
[The corner of his mouth twitches up in spite of himself, but there's nothing mirthful in his eyes as they drift to Anders' boots and linger there.]
But justice doesn't always come with death. Killing the person who's done something wrong doesn't undo that wrong. Death is just death. It's an ending, but it isn't atonement.
[He lets his eyes come up to meet Justice's glow again, his own stormy gaze clear.]
You were with us when we visited the Circles. People needed our cause explained, even still. Needed help to fight or escape. The world still needs Anders, not just me. Those mages who never had any hope, the ones who ended up fighting for their lives when they never thought they'd have one of their own. They need to know he's still there. A martyr is no use to the living.
[A long exhale, a little bit of mist going with it. He can never help that, in emotionally charged situations, as calm as he appears to be. He feels calm too, somehow. Justice sharing that of himself, expressing that he understands, as far as he can, Adalwolfe's care for Anders, that helps. But he's still emotional anyway. It's something else. Not upset, not anger. Helplessness, maybe. Justice being within Anders can still do as he likes, and as much as he says he doesn't wish Anders suffering - and Hawke does believe that - the situation is untenable. It will cause him suffering no matter what anyone actually wants.]
None of that matters now, here. All I wanted to ask you was your side. This effects you too, and it's high time someone actually asked you what you wanted.
[His thoughts churn uncomfortably and an emotion he can't identify plagues him but he says nothing. It clicks a moment later.
'What you did was wrong. You must make amends.'
A long forgotten conversation played loud and painfully clear as a hand drawing back a curtain.
'Teach them. Show these humans what they are so carelessly destroying.'
'And if they do not listen?'
'Then you have done what you could.'
A different injustice. A different conflict. But was this not the same in a way?]
You have given me something to think about. I thank you for having consideration for my opinion. I would expect nothing less from a Just man such as yourself.
[He doesn't say goodbye or give any sign of his departure from the conversation beyond the glow dying and the cracks receding. Anders lets out a slightly jagged gasp and a hand finds Adalwolfe's shoulder to brace him when he staggers, but he finds his footing quickly.]
Well...that was...different.
[He looked back up to Hawke with his own amber eyes and smiled softly.]
[Adalwolfe doesn't answer, instead letting his staff fall from his grip so he can tug Anders closer and kiss him deeply, taste that little smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes so handsomely. It tastes of the Fade too, makes his lips tingle even after he pulls away, hands on either side of Anders' face.]
Yeah. Good talk.
[Another exhale, this time with no mist as the clench in his chest eases and he allows himself to stop clinging, sliding his hands from Anders' face down to his chest and patting him once, a silent motion that confirms to him that Anders is alright.]
He said he may be amenable to a robot body, since he wouldn't be superseding any living being's consciousness then.
[The kiss is grounding and clears his mind a little more. This wasn't the violent or messy return from the times Justice had forcibly taken control before, but it was still jarring. Especially since he was still blacking out, maybe that was a side-effect caused by something else entirely and not really Justice's fault.
Not that it was something he was looking to test.
But it did cause some confusion about how the conversation turned from agreeing to a dream-meeting to putting his friend in a robot. He supposed it didn't really matter as long as nothing bad had happened.]
Oh? Well, good! I suppose that makes things a little easier for us on the whole. We'll simply need to find someone who can do what we're looking for. I guess this Felix wouldn't be able to separate us or he would have offered that instead.
I'm not sure, we'd have to ask. He implied he'd need help with that part but if I knew how I might be able to do it.
[More grounded himself, Adalwolfe moves away just a step or two to pick his staff back up.]
I'll take a trip to the library tomorrow, see what we can find. I don't want there too be too much of a gap between putting in the block and moving him out, for his sake.
[There's an odd note there, a bit of understanding, a bit of kindness. Not that he'd been entirely unkind to Justice in the past, but he's certainly had Opinions on what Justice's presence did to Anders and they weren't good ones. This is different though. Settled. Positive.]
Anders' hand skates along each plane and dip in the muscles of Wolfe's abdomen gently, but when that hand moves down to his neck, his hands come up to take it in both of his. One hand makes small soft movements, a slow and subtle massage of the muscles in Hawke's arm while the other holds the back of his lover's hand near to his face. His actions hold as much reverance as Wolfe's words do, his lips placing adoring kisses to each finger tip in turn along with the palm and the soft inside of Hawke's wrist.
There's a wriggle in the back of his mind, a negativity that always swells up under this level of appreciation and care from Hawke, it was uncomfortable and parroted Anders' anxieties and fears and questions on how Hawke saw anything pleasing in his skinny physique, but Anders had years now of practice at keeping it where it was. He didn't want that interference. He just wanted Hawke and everything he offered Anders. He pressed the hand he'd lavished attention to his left breast, putting his heart in Hawke's hand where it belonged.
"And I you, love. I've missed how your voice catches my breath and the sight of you stutters my heart. I've missed how a mere brush of your fingers thrills my body and soul. I've been incomplete without you and my life was duller for not remembering how much you mean to me."
[Affection fills his expression as he picks out the differences in Adalwolfe's tone. He couldn't remember Hawke ever referring to Justice like that.]
Maker, what did you two talk about? [He meant it rhetorically, not really expecting Hawke to answer if he didn't want to. Plus, there was one thing concerning him about what Hawke said.]
If you do find a way in the library, all I ask is that you don't attempt the magic alone. I don't know what spell it would take, but I can't imagine it would be an easy one. I don't want you to hurt yourself if you tried to perform it alone.
[He grins conspiratorially then considers in regards to the spell, trying not to be annoyed at Anders' caution.]
I know I'm not Circle trained, but I'm plenty adept at magic on the whole, you know.
[He smiles a bit to try to sooth what he knows was something of a prickly response and it comes on a bit wolfish, but he manages.]
If it warrants help though, I'll ask someone. The whole reason to do things this way is to keep your life out of danger. I'm not going to do something that would jeopardize that.
Wolfe's eyes shine in the dim light at Anders' words. He drinks them in, lets them settle not just in his mind but in his heart too, etched with so many other words of Anders' until his soul is covered in affectionate words and adoring declarations. Its become his armor, his shield against anything the world has to throw at him. Nothing can harm him so long as Anders loves him.
He brushes small circles with his thumb against Anders' chest, feeling the flutter of his heart under his palm and smiling gently. So strong but so fragile, warm as a hearth and heated as a pyre, Anders is a man of dichotomies and Adalwolfe loves each impossible piece. He leans up again, pressing his lips to Anders' mouth reverently.
"I'm going to make love to you," he whispers between them,thumb still brushing light circles at Anders' heart and other hand sliding to press into the small of the healer's back, strong and supporting. "I'm going to make love to you so you know exactly how much I ached for you while I was away. How much I can't live without you by my side. How important you are."
[Anders winces, mostly out of surprise, but there was a touch of hurt as well.]
No, that wasn't what I meant. I simply meant seperating a spirit from a person is impossible back home, I highly doubt it'll be a simple spell anywhere else, either. A spell as complex as this one would likely need to be would require every ounce of mana a mage had and, likely, more. You've seen me scraping the bottom of my mana well, you've felt it yourself after the battle with the Arishock, though I would understand if you didn't remember clearly considering you were busy bleeding out all over the keep's floor.
This would likely be worse than even that as it could require being constantly maintained so it would simply take and take, whether you had anything to give or not. At the very least, having one other mage present would allow for the focus to be switched from one to another to allow a moment of rest.
[His brows came together in concern and apprehension.]
Do...you really think I believe so little in your skills, Hawke? After all this time? Do you really believe I prize a Circle's education over all else?
'How much I can't live without you at my side.' Maker, how he longed for that to not be true, his life would surely be short in the end, he didn't want to drag Hawke down with him. Hawke deserved so much more, so much better. Anders was not important. Except to Hawke. He was important to Hawke and, right now, it was just them.
He leaned in through what little distance there was and pressed a tender kiss to Adalwolfe's lips with an equally tender smile. "Yes...I would like that more than anything."
Even with that stuttering whisper in his mind, his words were completely honest. Making love to Hawke was something he cherished deeply. He'd had his fair share of lovers in his time, certainly more than his partner had in his, but Hawke was the only one Anders had ever made love to. That meant something to him, it was one of the better ways he felt he could convey just how important Adalwolfe was to him as well.
Not the Noble Hawke, not the Champion of Kirkwall, not some renegade apostate, just Adalwolfe. "I love you." He whispered the words, his lips moving against Hawke's as he did, like a kiss that held a promise.
[How could it be that he managed to see eye to eye with Justice of all people but suddenly now he's borderline arguing with Anders? It's just a topsy-turvy day apparently. He pinches the bridge of his nose.]
No, I don't think you prize anything from the Circles, but I do think there is something to be said for it being the only place to learn magic with any sort of formality. You know things I've never thought of, and all of those mages from the Circles we helped to rebel know it too. How many times did I hear how surprised they were that I had such control over my spellcasting? Like I'm some anomaly. Do you remember at the Markham Circle, the senior enchanter who literally scoffed at me when I admitted I couldn't help with making potions?
[He grinds his teeth behind closed lips, his jaw clenching for a moment to cover that irritation.]
I'd never wish for the Circle on anyone as it is, but there are gaps. I know you know that, and I wonder sometimes if it doesn't undermine your confidence in me.
[It undermines his confidence in himself, sometimes. He wouldn't blame Anders if that were the case.]
"And I love you," Adalwolfe breathes against his lover's lips and proves it with a kiss, with a slow move of the hand at Anders' back inexorably downward, massaging and seeking with an abundance of care. It's not rushed or overwhelming but instead a soft request expressed with the tips of his fingers slipping between Anders' cheeks, askance for permission to prepare his love, to express his devout worship of the blond in his lap through a physical act.
"I love you so much," he sounds almost choked by it, overwhelmed. The depths of that feeling are so low that even Adalwolfe doesn't know where the bottom lies. He hasn't found it yet and doubts he ever will until the end of his days. He's at peace with that, content to perpetually be buoyed by the tides of their affection. He kisses Anders again, a slow press followed by a nuzzle of his nose against his healer's cheek, their chins scratching stubble against stubble as he slips one finger very carefully inside. "I'm going to do more than just tell you."
[Anders' expression softened and he stepped closer to gently run his fingers through Adalwolfe's hair.]
Never, my love. There are things you don't know that others our age would be experts at, it's true, but you've lived a hundred times more than they'll ever dream of. Your experiences, what you are good at is worth so much more because it's real and natural. Your magic has it's own wild beauty to it, not the systematic grooming by dusty books and the crushed spirits of hobbled enchanters.
[He gave a small smile meant to encourage.]
Besides, you have me, you don't need to make potions.
Don't take to heart what they thought or said, they're barely even half the person and mage you are, they're just too sheltered and cowed to know it yet.
[There's doubt there still, but Anders is so vehement and so earnest about it that Adalwolfe makes a mollified noise and nuzzles his face into Anders' neck just for a moment. He wouldn't trade his upbringing for Anders' save to spare him from the awful things that had been done to him, but it's nice to have it confirmed once in awhile that there aren't major pieces of his magical identity missing simply because experience had been his greatest teacher of technique.]
I'm fairly certain Hermione knows more about magic than both of us combined, anyhow.
[She's from a world with a real magical society, after all. With real schooling, and support.]
She had to explain to me what arithmancy is. Not that I think magic by numbers would do anything to help you and Justice, but even so.
[Anders' head cocked to the side slightly, his confusion clear as day.]
...Arithmancy? What is that?
[Apparently, something to do with numbers. He knew Hermione's society was everything he dreamed of and hoped for in Thedas, they'd talked about it while building the greenhouse together, but that was a field of magic he'd never heard of before.]
A shudder ran up Anders' spine as his love's hand slipped further and further down until he finally felt the pressure of one of those thick fingers pressing in. Goosebumps trailed across his skin and he looped his arms behind Hawke's neck, his fingers tugging and gently stroking at white hair. "We'll show each other." His heart could barely take the amount of affection and adoration in Hawke's words and actions, but he knew those same things were what made his heart soar. The least he could do for his love is give him the same feeling in return.
He dipped his head low and pressed sweet kisses and gentle, playful, nips at Adalwolfe's neck. "We've got all night."
[Even though he's still confused, Hawke's laugh is enough to put that small smile back on Anders' face.]
That does sound dodgy. I'm sure it's worth something to her...all the same, I think I'll leave the numbers to those who get something out of them.
[He was curious to learn what new magics he could...but that one seemed alright to leave alone. Plus, who wanted to know the future? That simply seemed dangerous.]
"All day," Adalwolfe corrects gently with the soft huff of a laugh. "At least, I think it's morning. Who can tell in space."
He slides his finger in carefully, heightened to the feel of Anders in his lap, how he reacts to the intrusion, how his body makes minute shifts. He feels overall the hands in his hair, the fingers carding loosely between strands, fingernails grazing his scalp. He loves that feeling and exhales softly against Anders' shoulder, leaning in to rest his forehead there, kissing whatever flesh happens to be under his mouth and relaxing nearly boneless at Anders' long fingers caressing him.
Nearly.
His finger he moves carefully in and out, a slow and lazy pace, meant to build over time. Anders is right, they have all day and night. As long as they want. There's no need to hurry.
So they didn't teach you numbers and figures in the Circle? I mean, beyond basic maths you'd need for ingredient measurements and such.
[It's strange, he's never really felt he could ask about what Anders actually learned before. Endured, sure. He wasn't terribly private about that overall since it was the basis for his rebellion, but anything even remotely positive coming of it seemed off limits somehow. But in this context, after admitting how he feels about his gaps of magical education, perhaps Anders will understand why he's asking.]
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