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Maker’s ass, I don’t know how many more the clinic can hold, Anders thought, staring helplessly at all the people crowded into the tiny area. At least they would be warm, despite the lack of blankets – the heat of the few fires and torches he had set up were almost outmatched by the body heat of so many in a confined space. He picked his way through the mass, offering a kind smile here and there, all the while casting his gaze about to see if there was any more room to be had – people were still knocking on his door, hoping to find a safe place from the End of Ages.
The End of Ages. As if the Templars and Meredith running around turning mages Tranquil weren’t enough, some blasted git had to go and discover an “ancient text” detailing a Doomsday Scenario to occur on the eve of the twelfth day of the twelfth month of this year. Tomorrow. Which wasn’t too outrageous to begin with; there was always going to be some poor fool trying to make his name stick in the annals of History. The difference was that, this time, people believed it.
Oh, it all seemed legitimate. It spoke of the Old Gods, and how their wrath at being imprisoned underground would shake the world and tear it asunder. The final two Dragons, Razikale of Mystery and Lusacan of Darkness, would burst from the ground and spread their corruption over the world, rendering it black and forever spoiled. All would despair and perish.
Ancient texts were very good at being dramatic – Anders remembered this particularly well from his younger days in the Circle.
But the text made no mention of those few cults who still worshipped the Old Gods. It seemed rather silly to Anders that these people who went against the grain to worship the apparent bringers of destruction wouldn’t get a reprieve from them. It also hadn’t taken into account leap years – with those factored in, the actual End of Ages should have happened at some point during the Fourth Blight.
Anders shook his head ruefully. People would believe what they wanted. Despite the fact that he, personally, didn’t believe the End of Ages would occur tomorrow (oh, he was sure it would happen at some point, but certainly not tomorrow, and not, Justice hoped, before they had rectified the Mage Situation), there were a lot of scared people coming to seek whatever solace they could find, and if he could provide it, he would.
He was in the middle of making a salve to hopefully help soothe a colicky baby (whose high pitched crying was wearing on everyone’s nerves, even his own, and not making the long night go any faster) when the door banged open and in rushed Sebastian. He hurried towards Anders, pulling up short just before running into him.
Anders startled, spilling some of the salve onto his fingers. He cursed under his breath just as Sebastian spoke. “Anders!”
The mage rolled his eyes heavenward, wiping his fingers on a nearby rag. “Oh, for Andraste’s knickers, WHAT?” This was the last thing he needed now.
Sebastian had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Forgive me for bothering you at such a rushed hour, but – “
“Do you not see that the clinic is packed with desperate people? They all think tomorrow will be the End of Ages!”
“Aye, the Chantry is overflowing with people as well. I only just managed to sneak away…”
It was then that Anders noticed Sebastian wasn’t wearing his usual armor, but had instead donned the clothing of a Chantry brother. It had much the same color scheme as the robes of the sisters he had seen when he went to the Chantry with Hawke, only the robe seemed more like a cloak, and was draped over a long-sleeved shirt and a trim pair of pants. Were the differences because he was a male, or a member of Starkhaven royalty? Anders decided he didn’t care.
“…Anders?”
He looked up at Sebastian, holding back a sigh. “What?”
Sebastian took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes as if to steel himself. “I have a confession.”
Anders stared at him expectantly. One heartbeat. Two. The baby was still crying.
“Out with it, Choir Boy! I don’t have all day!” he burst out.
Sebastian looked startled for a moment, before retorting, “Oy, it’s not easy confessing outside a confessional! I – “
Anders had had enough. Though he never doubted the true aim of the archer in battle, outside of combat, they hardly saw eye to eye. Especially when it came to the matter of a mage’s freedom and Elthina refusing to take a side. He hadn’t missed the sidelong glances Sebastian sent his way, either, when he used his magic to electrocute their enemies. And he was tired. “CONFESS THAT YOU THINK I’M A HEATHEN APOSTATE! THAT I DANCE NAKED UNDER THE MOONLIGHT AND SUMMON DEMONS FROM THE – “
“ANDERS!” Sebastian shouted, cutting the mage off midstream. His shoulders were tensed. “I am TRYING to confess something to you!”
The blond threw up his hands. “Fine! Confess!”
He blew out a sigh, starting again. “Anders, I wanted to confess..”
..if this goes on any longer, I am going to set him on fire, Anders decided.
“…if, in fact, the world does end tomorrow...”
He started conjuring a small fireball.
“..I confess that if I were ever to lose my vows...”
The fireball grew larger.
“It would be with you.”
The fireball fizzled out. Anders’ eyes grew wide. A slight flush came to his cheeks, though he could tell by the dim torchlight that there was a matching one on Sebastian’s face.
“I…why me?!” Anders spluttered. This was not what he had been expecting.
Sebastian paused, looking even more embarassed. He looked down at the floor, shifting awkwardly before meeting his gaze. “Isabela mentioned.. something about an electric trick?”
“Oh, that.” Leave it to Isabela to spread that about.
The brunet nodded. There was silence. They both stared at the floor, shuffling awkwardly.
Anders thought about Karl, and the chances he never took for himself – not for the greater good of the mages, not for one of Hawke’s life and death quests, but for himself – and looked into Sebastian’s eyes. “So, what if the world doesn’t end?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. His brain finally caught up, and he blurted, “Oh, Maker, INeedToGo! StaySafe!” He turned and bolted.
“Wha – wait!” Anders called out. But it was too late. Sebastian had nearly reached the door, and Anders couldn’t hope to catch up to him without bowling anyone over. His eyes dropped down, unintentionally alighting on the sight of Sebastian’s rear in those damned tight pants.
He thought over the conversation they had just had, and images came unbidden to his mind about the conversations they could NOT have while doing other activities.
“MAKER DAMMIT, SEBASTIAN, WHY ARE YOU SUCH A BLOODY COCKTEASE?!” He shouted towards his ceiling.
The silence in the clinic was deafening. Anders slapped a hand to his forehead.
Anders awoke to the sound of an old man snoring. He stretched as much as he could on his cot, popping the kinks out of his joints. Well. It would seem they had all survived the night. He sat up, noting that many of the refugees had already left earlier this morning. The ones that remained seemed none the worse for wear. Some End of Ages.
Suddenly, the conversation he had had with Sebastian the night before came back to him, and with it, the memory of a rather..detailed dream. Groaning, he fell back. “Maker, nooooooo… Why couldn’t it ACTUALLY have been the end of the world?” he moaned, trying to smother himself with his pillow.