Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justice_is_blond) wrote2016-01-15 11:45 am
justice_is_blond) wrote2016-01-15 11:45 am
Inbox for Fade Rift
[Please leave a message after the beep that doesn't actually exist.]
"Because it matters."
It's a murmur of an answer, and an agreement; not a judgment so much as a question of itself. The words never fit together the way he'd like them to, without sounding them aloud. They're too wrapped up in picture, in scent, in the sense of something greater than all this earth and meat.
It should matter for its own sake, doing something. Trying to do something. Shouldn't it? He's always taken it on faith: If you can help, you help. Even when he was the one hiding, running from it all, he'd known he was doing the wrong thing.
Perhaps it needs a reason — this business of doing right and wrong. Perhaps it needs self-interest. Instead of banishing the I, hammering it into productive shape.
We.
"Thank you." A moment, he tips his head down low to breathe. "I'm glad you're here."
It's a murmur of an answer, and an agreement; not a judgment so much as a question of itself. The words never fit together the way he'd like them to, without sounding them aloud. They're too wrapped up in picture, in scent, in the sense of something greater than all this earth and meat.
It should matter for its own sake, doing something. Trying to do something. Shouldn't it? He's always taken it on faith: If you can help, you help. Even when he was the one hiding, running from it all, he'd known he was doing the wrong thing.
Perhaps it needs a reason — this business of doing right and wrong. Perhaps it needs self-interest. Instead of banishing the I, hammering it into productive shape.
We.
"Thank you." A moment, he tips his head down low to breathe. "I'm glad you're here."
"My bear, mein Barchan," he groans back as Nate presses against the sensitive gland and strokes him. "I never imagined, thought, that I could have this. Not until you." All the times he'd whispered to Karl that they could run away and be free he'd never believed it. Now everything seems possible. "My husband, my amazing, handsome husband."
He loops his elbow under his leg, helping Nate plunge deeper and getting one of his hands right where he wants it, on Nate's ass. That gets a squeeze, short nails teasing a little, before he slides his fingers along the cleft.
"Can I finger you as you fuck me?"
He loops his elbow under his leg, helping Nate plunge deeper and getting one of his hands right where he wants it, on Nate's ass. That gets a squeeze, short nails teasing a little, before he slides his fingers along the cleft.
"Can I finger you as you fuck me?"
Nathaniel shifts so Anders is beneath him, and spreads his knees as far as he can, spreading Anders as he does so.
"Fuck me with your hands," he begs against those lips. "Your strong, gentle, healers' hands. Be as much a part of me as I am of you."
His hips roll deeper, harder, though he is not insistent. They will be at this for some time.
"Fuck me with your hands," he begs against those lips. "Your strong, gentle, healers' hands. Be as much a part of me as I am of you."
His hips roll deeper, harder, though he is not insistent. They will be at this for some time.
This is his favorite position to be in, with Nate's weight solid over him, stretching him open, buried deep inside him. Like this he's pushed and surrounded by sensation until everything is gone except Nate. He can't dwell or stress while underneath his lover; when pinned by Nate, Anders is at his most free.
"Anything you ask of me. Everything you ask of me," he promises. As he speaks, he's reaching for the lube and slicking up his fingers, making it noisy just for the thrill of anticipation. He probes with his first finger, making sure to get everything very slick before urging it just a little in and toying with the muscles there.
"Anything you ask of me. Everything you ask of me," he promises. As he speaks, he's reaching for the lube and slicking up his fingers, making it noisy just for the thrill of anticipation. He probes with his first finger, making sure to get everything very slick before urging it just a little in and toying with the muscles there.
He nods. It does matter. Justice had been right about a few things, and one of them was that Anders had spent far too much time focused on his own needs and even wants. He'd been selfish. Flighty. Self-indulgent. There's no making up for what he's done, but he can at least work on making the world better. Leaving something behind that's not all destruction.
At Alan's words he blinks, a little surprised, and then the tension that's always in his body when meeting an unknown fades.
"Thank you." That's not something he hears often. "I'm..." He trails off and gives Alan a small smile. "Most days I'm glad I'm here. What's, what's brought you here?"
At Alan's words he blinks, a little surprised, and then the tension that's always in his body when meeting an unknown fades.
"Thank you." That's not something he hears often. "I'm..." He trails off and gives Alan a small smile. "Most days I'm glad I'm here. What's, what's brought you here?"
[Anders nods, leaning forward and sending careful threads of creation magic into Iskandar. What he finds... isn't what he was expecting, but at the same time he's not sure of what he was expecting. After a few moments he drops his hand down.]
You're not human. You may look it, but you're not...
[He pauses to try to find the right words.]
You feel alive and not at the same time. I've no idea how that's possible. Have you been injured at all while you've been here?
You're not human. You may look it, but you're not...
[He pauses to try to find the right words.]
You feel alive and not at the same time. I've no idea how that's possible. Have you been injured at all while you've been here?
Well I am not human. I am a spirit. Specifically of a King who lived long ago then died. I was then summoned by a mage and now I am this.
[As for injury...]
I've not been injured once though. Perhaps I simply have not faced a situation that would lead to such things.
[As for injury...]
I've not been injured once though. Perhaps I simply have not faced a situation that would lead to such things.
The smile he offers back is sheepish, faint, but no less genuine for it. A kid's pencil sketch, faded by the rain.
"I found a magic rock."
A beat. He's... he's not quite sure that's what Anders meant. And he's heard all that, anyway, knows how they first spoke. Alan tries again:
"I mean. I suppose that — for a while I hadn't realized how bad it was getting out there." It's easy to forget, spending long enough with your face in the wind. It's easy to let go of the things that hold you to humanity. "Or I didn't want to."
He steeples his hands under his chin. That's maybe not what Anders means either.
"I hit someone," Alan finally confesses. "I don't think I would have stopped."
"I found a magic rock."
A beat. He's... he's not quite sure that's what Anders meant. And he's heard all that, anyway, knows how they first spoke. Alan tries again:
"I mean. I suppose that — for a while I hadn't realized how bad it was getting out there." It's easy to forget, spending long enough with your face in the wind. It's easy to let go of the things that hold you to humanity. "Or I didn't want to."
He steeples his hands under his chin. That's maybe not what Anders means either.
"I hit someone," Alan finally confesses. "I don't think I would have stopped."
For a moment his smile becomes a smirk at the magic rock bit, but it fades away as Alan continues talking. He breathes out and sips his tea again, nodding quietly.
He's been angry enough to want to hurt someone, but they've never been in range when he's hit that point. Not for years did he know who had been responsible for taking Karl from him, and when he found out, Justice had taken that moment.
"They hurt you. And you wanted to make them hurt in return." It makes the caged comment more clear; that drive, the desire to hurt the way you've been hurt is its own sort of cage. "But you don't like being that sort of person, so you're caught."
It's an easy conclusion, it seems. "You both want to avoid them and don't?"
He's been angry enough to want to hurt someone, but they've never been in range when he's hit that point. Not for years did he know who had been responsible for taking Karl from him, and when he found out, Justice had taken that moment.
"They hurt you. And you wanted to make them hurt in return." It makes the caged comment more clear; that drive, the desire to hurt the way you've been hurt is its own sort of cage. "But you don't like being that sort of person, so you're caught."
It's an easy conclusion, it seems. "You both want to avoid them and don't?"
Yes, but...
[He shakes his head. Iskandar is not Mercy or Compassion or anything like that. Boisterousness, maybe, which isn't really a spirit.]
You're not the usual spirit, either. As far as I can tell. I've tended to a spirit in a corpse before, but that wasn't healing so much as it was reattaching and closing things. I'm trying to get a physical gauge of you so I've some sort of answer to what questions you might have, but I don't have any answers yet.
[He shakes his head. Iskandar is not Mercy or Compassion or anything like that. Boisterousness, maybe, which isn't really a spirit.]
You're not the usual spirit, either. As far as I can tell. I've tended to a spirit in a corpse before, but that wasn't healing so much as it was reattaching and closing things. I'm trying to get a physical gauge of you so I've some sort of answer to what questions you might have, but I don't have any answers yet.
Mm. I see. Perhaps you would like to see a few of the things that I can do? You might be able to determine something that way. I could share what the ability typically does in my world as well.
It's a relief to see Anders gets it. His shoulders sag.
"I tried avoiding him," But. "There’s someone who wanted us to talk. Thought it would make it — better, somehow."
"I thought I’d be fine. It shouldn't have mattered, it happened. I can't change it. He can't. But then he was talking and there were all these," Excuses, he wants to say. Instinct forces moderation — "Reasons, and they were saying he wasn’t wrong for having done it, and,"
"And then I was hitting him, and then he took it away." He doesn’t have the words. Doesn’t really think that Anders will need them. "I’d never. I knew they could do that, but I hadn’t ever felt it. It was like,"
All the breath gone out, if breathing were that Other sense. His hand opens and shuts on empty air.
If Alan stopped to think about it rationally, he’d understand why Alistair had done it. Understand that what he is owns the power to frighten.
But he’s not thinking like that. He’s thinking like a scared kid in the snow, staring down a problem with the knowledge that if he doesn’t work this one out, there won’t be any more after. And that’s the way it’s always going to look, as long as he’s looking at Alistair.
It’s different now. His hands are strong, he’s grown, he’s alone. No one is going to take anything from him, because he has nothing for the taking. Nothing except his own magic, except the solace of another soul to run to; nothing except the sureness of capability, of survival.
(Nothing except a friend, he’d thought, perhaps —)
Alan hates him for it. Hates it like he hates the first loss, the second. My family, my god, my magic,
(She’d called them friends.)
He’s done the wrong thing here, he knows. Anders is right. Kindness — it’s the right decision to make. For everyone. For himself, even if he doesn’t feel it.
It’s the right decision. It’s not going to be the easy one.
"I tried avoiding him," But. "There’s someone who wanted us to talk. Thought it would make it — better, somehow."
"I thought I’d be fine. It shouldn't have mattered, it happened. I can't change it. He can't. But then he was talking and there were all these," Excuses, he wants to say. Instinct forces moderation — "Reasons, and they were saying he wasn’t wrong for having done it, and,"
"And then I was hitting him, and then he took it away." He doesn’t have the words. Doesn’t really think that Anders will need them. "I’d never. I knew they could do that, but I hadn’t ever felt it. It was like,"
All the breath gone out, if breathing were that Other sense. His hand opens and shuts on empty air.
If Alan stopped to think about it rationally, he’d understand why Alistair had done it. Understand that what he is owns the power to frighten.
But he’s not thinking like that. He’s thinking like a scared kid in the snow, staring down a problem with the knowledge that if he doesn’t work this one out, there won’t be any more after. And that’s the way it’s always going to look, as long as he’s looking at Alistair.
It’s different now. His hands are strong, he’s grown, he’s alone. No one is going to take anything from him, because he has nothing for the taking. Nothing except his own magic, except the solace of another soul to run to; nothing except the sureness of capability, of survival.
(Nothing except a friend, he’d thought, perhaps —)
Alan hates him for it. Hates it like he hates the first loss, the second. My family, my god, my magic,
(She’d called them friends.)
He’s done the wrong thing here, he knows. Anders is right. Kindness — it’s the right decision to make. For everyone. For himself, even if he doesn’t feel it.
It’s the right decision. It’s not going to be the easy one.
A soft gasp as that muscle feels a tug, almost painful but not quite. When his hips roll back again, the pressure increases, and Nathaniel feels like he can't lose now. Anders is his twice in the same instant--three times, if you count the rings on their fingers. His hand cradles Anders' head and neck, and he pulls back enough to look at his face, his beautiful amber eyes.
"I can't get enough of you," he says hoarsely. "I want to share everything with you. I want to be so completely one with you that we never have to say anything, although we still do. I want to love you more every day, and I do. Every day since I fell in love with you, I love you more."
"I can't get enough of you," he says hoarsely. "I want to share everything with you. I want to be so completely one with you that we never have to say anything, although we still do. I want to love you more every day, and I do. Every day since I fell in love with you, I love you more."
He listens to the story. At 'it' being taken away, he figures he doesn't need more than that. Not between mages. The first time he'd been silenced he hadn't even understood anything, had been too overcome with the yelling and the armored men taking him from his home. A mage who gets that they have magic, knows how it feels, to have it taken away like that the first time? Definite a shock.
Not a shock: that it's a Templar Alan has a problem with.
"I'm sorry." It's the best he can offer, really. "It would be nice if ghosts stayed in our pasts rather than appearing again. But they have a habit of not doing so."
He gives Alan a few moments of quiet.
"Do you know what you're going to do about this?"
Not a shock: that it's a Templar Alan has a problem with.
"I'm sorry." It's the best he can offer, really. "It would be nice if ghosts stayed in our pasts rather than appearing again. But they have a habit of not doing so."
He gives Alan a few moments of quiet.
"Do you know what you're going to do about this?"
[Maybe he should have started there. Anders sits back, looking a little amused.]
All right, yes. What can you do?
All right, yes. What can you do?
A number of things. In my world I could do things like summon a chariot pulled by bulls that could ride anywhere and could slam powerfully into others. I could also create a bubble of another reality where my army would wait to battle those I brought into that bubble. Of course I could also go into a spirit form where only the mage who summoned me would sense me and hear me. With that I could transport myself anywhere in the blink of an eye. Naturally these all seem to have altered here. I'm not certain about others like my immunity to things like disease and temperature.
Yes, to all of that.
[He sounds calm, though he's suddenly wondering when qunari puberty is and what it entails, considering some of Kas' most recent questions. There was never any training for that in the Circle.]
[He sounds calm, though he's suddenly wondering when qunari puberty is and what it entails, considering some of Kas' most recent questions. There was never any training for that in the Circle.]
He listens, and that matters. Alan rarely speaks so much of himself in a breath. To find that Anders has heard, it's —
— The best he can offer, and no falsehood for it. Alan's head tips up to settle into the silence. A spider makes slow passes between the cross-poles, weaves itself a home within the corners.
"I can't outrun it." Neither of them can. The past owns a rapid pace, of late. "So maybe I need to let it find me."
Not be led to it, not like that again, a dog on a lead. No: Wear the skin of it, those places he's from, the truths he's felt. Let them see who he is, and let himself know it, too. If you hold any shape long enough, it starts to seem as though it's all that's there.
And he's been holding hidden for twelve years.
"Was it — is it better?"
Now that they've found Anders.
— The best he can offer, and no falsehood for it. Alan's head tips up to settle into the silence. A spider makes slow passes between the cross-poles, weaves itself a home within the corners.
"I can't outrun it." Neither of them can. The past owns a rapid pace, of late. "So maybe I need to let it find me."
Not be led to it, not like that again, a dog on a lead. No: Wear the skin of it, those places he's from, the truths he's felt. Let them see who he is, and let himself know it, too. If you hold any shape long enough, it starts to seem as though it's all that's there.
And he's been holding hidden for twelve years.
"Was it — is it better?"
Now that they've found Anders.
[Oh, there we go. More familiar ground. Somewhat.]
Do you think they like you back?
Do you think they like you back?
That's definitely promising. Here's the key piece of advice: be yourself, but a little better. If she's interested, she's interested because of who you are. Work to be a little more mindful of her, but don't do something you wouldn't do.
Focus on having a good time at the tavern, and her having a good time. You can ask her if she's interested if you'd like, or after we can go over what happened and I can try to help you see.
Focus on having a good time at the tavern, and her having a good time. You can ask her if she's interested if you'd like, or after we can go over what happened and I can try to help you see.
He loves that sound in Nate's voice. It's open and needing, and Anders longs to fill every need and want Nate has. Slowly he slips his finger in deeper, looking deeply into Nate's eyes as he buries it inside his lover. His husband. Maker.
"I feel the same, love, my love. You make my dreams come true, and you fill my heart. You make me feel more than I'd thought possible." He's almost selfish enough to think he has all he needs. That he could accept life like this and ignore all else, escape into being with this man and forget the world. But he does have this, these moments, these times with his beloved. "I love you. I love you so much."
How he's loved in return. This is an impossibility made manifest, wrapped around him, inside him, treasuring him. This is joy. And this is his. Anders surges upward, kissing hard and guiding a second finger carefully into his beloved, needing to show how deeply he feels all of this.
"I feel the same, love, my love. You make my dreams come true, and you fill my heart. You make me feel more than I'd thought possible." He's almost selfish enough to think he has all he needs. That he could accept life like this and ignore all else, escape into being with this man and forget the world. But he does have this, these moments, these times with his beloved. "I love you. I love you so much."
How he's loved in return. This is an impossibility made manifest, wrapped around him, inside him, treasuring him. This is joy. And this is his. Anders surges upward, kissing hard and guiding a second finger carefully into his beloved, needing to show how deeply he feels all of this.
Letting it find him, it sounds like Alan's asking, and that's... complicated. Anders looks off to the side. He's not one for opening up, much of the time. He'll use details to make a case, certainly, tuck something into a joke to soften the truth of it, but it's only rarely that he voices something that strikes close to home.
His lips press together, and he shakes his head after a moment. When he speaks, his voice is hushed.
"In some ways, yes." Another breath, and then he's looking back at Alan.
"There's a fair chance, with the world as large as it is, that none would have found me. That I could have taken up residence as a healer in a small village somewhere warm, and simply avoided the world." Grown a full beard, kept his hair short, few enough survived that had known him that he could have made it.
"But I couldn't. I'm only one of the multiple causes of the war, the mage-templar war, but I am one of the causes. I've a responsibility to help, and I knew it. That awareness... I couldn't step back from that. I couldn't become non-aware, non-involved."
A shrug, as if to suggest walking into an outpost where people knew him and others were likely to discover him had been nothing.
"I didn't think I'd long left, when I walked into Skyhold. But I knew I had to use it the right way, and so yes. It's better to take a stand than slip away, even if it's far from easier."
His lips press together, and he shakes his head after a moment. When he speaks, his voice is hushed.
"In some ways, yes." Another breath, and then he's looking back at Alan.
"There's a fair chance, with the world as large as it is, that none would have found me. That I could have taken up residence as a healer in a small village somewhere warm, and simply avoided the world." Grown a full beard, kept his hair short, few enough survived that had known him that he could have made it.
"But I couldn't. I'm only one of the multiple causes of the war, the mage-templar war, but I am one of the causes. I've a responsibility to help, and I knew it. That awareness... I couldn't step back from that. I couldn't become non-aware, non-involved."
A shrug, as if to suggest walking into an outpost where people knew him and others were likely to discover him had been nothing.
"I didn't think I'd long left, when I walked into Skyhold. But I knew I had to use it the right way, and so yes. It's better to take a stand than slip away, even if it's far from easier."
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