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Unresolved Tangles (Through a Glass Darkly 4)	By : Anesor Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3510 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel.

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The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this story.
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A curvey woman slid into his clinic shortly after dawn, and his hopes fell when he saw it was Isabela. She demanded he heal another rash she'd picked up, after regaling him with a long tale of debauch at the Rose that only started with drinking.
He wanted to beg more about it, beg the names, but he was afraid what names they would be after his last visit months ago. Despite himself, he imagined the carefree pirate mirroring Hawke's deftness in bed, their quips and curves... He tore his imagination away from that glorious image where the darker rogue faded away, leaving the bed for him. His heart beating faster, he couldn't resist making a tiny noise of want.
The pirate didn't seem to have noticed and rolled her eyes when he followed his healing with a salve and instructions. He was proud he made only one cutting comment while she smirked at him.
A boot scrape he didn't hear, and he looked up to see Hawke entering his clinic too. His thoughts warred; would she need healing just like Isabela had and that he once foolishly hoped to give her? But Hawke's expression was clean curiosity and amusement on seeing that Isabela needed healing.
That wasn't the expression of lovers and his heart eased. He was too familiar with reading mages who hid lovers' expressions in Kinloch.
This time, he was reminded by Justice. She sent away her mage sister and profited more from the Deep...
Don't be stupid.
He greeted Hawke and spoke with her until the pirate got bored and left. Hawke didn't say much personal, just bits of news about the princeling, dwarf, and elves, her voice like rain on his parched soil. More surprising were letters of credit for supplies for his clinic, generous amounts that would supply him for many weeks along with names of merchants who awaited his convenience. Her speech moved on to a harvest party at her mansion in days.
She tries to buy you. She distracts you from even your healing.
That he ignored. He saw that her eyes smiled only a little as they spoke, and the tension was all his own. He told her he might come.
After she left, he argued with himself for the rest of the day, the darkness of his home a greater drain than usual. He craved the sun and light she brought with her.
His spirit did not care.
He looked around the short collapsed tunnel that was his room. He felt like some mole, hiding from the sun, no longer living anymore, waiting to die and be buried like this in the Deep Roads.
He could not visit her, that was too tempting, too risky. There were few he considered friends, but only one who he felt he could trust. He charged out of Darktown into Lowtown and into the Hanged Man.
Varric and Isabela were speaking, their feet propped up in the long, stone table in his suite. He told a story of the lost thaig to entertain them, after they compared rumors and stories from the Pearl.
He had relaxed even if he had not been drinking, and was surprised after Isabela left for the jakes.
“How long are you going to draw this out, Blondie?”
“What?
“Don't pretend you don't know. You can't carry off drunk anymore, so answer the question.”
He could feel his frown. “It's not your business.”
“Look, Isabela's memory of Denerim isn't that bad, so why are you doing this to Hawke? Or is it a coincidence that you came out of your rat-hole clinic when Hawke gave you the invitation for her party? Now, when you haven't been out for months now?”
“There's nothing between us,” he denied to his own personal gadfly.
“You aren't that good an actor, Blondie. Something happened a while back, and 'Bela told me a tale of you both at the Rose, leaving separately and at odds.”
He couldn't deny it all. “I was called for an injury, nothing else.”
“And Hawke didn't leave her estate for a week. Look, we both know the Wardens' reputations so this stance of yours doesn't fit the rest of the story. Look, I'd rather you screw her and dump her than keep drawing this out forever like this. Hawke's strong and she'll get over it.”
He could not breathe.
Despite the roaring from his spirit, he looked Varric in the eyes with desperation clawing his throat. “But I won't.
“I can't do that to her.”
“Then you got a problem, Anders. Go to her party, be a bastard, be a lover, but you better be her friend. Not this selfish nose rag she's afraid to ask to a party for weeks.”
He wanted, and wanted despite these endless weeks, remembering how right she'd felt in his arms as they'd exited the Deep Roads into fresh air. How she brightened the dark space of his clinic. “Maker help me, I can't... I'll be there.”
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A/N: Challenge prompt words are glorious, gadfly, and generous. Thanks go to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.
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Unresolved Tangles (Through a Glass Darkly 4)