The Summit Of Hope (part 2)
In Which Anders And Hawke Travel To Skyhold And Cole Tries To Fix Things
(This second part was inspired by braginskye's fanart of Anders and Cole together!)
They leave Weisshaupt to its fate and he can’t say he’s sorry to turn his back on it. There are dreams forming in him, golden cracks among Justice’s silver, and none of them begin in this stark place. So he prepares for travel, gathering items from their caches: what will stretch, what they can’t do without. Hawke never remembers healing items or which jars of powdered herbs are needed for which potion. Anders quietly bundles those items and organizes them in special packs. Hawke works on trapping supplies, more familiar with wilderness survival than healing.
Skyhold is a long journey from the Anderfels and they spend much of it trying to remember that they aren’t fugitives any longer. Not really. Hawke only stops sweeping the ground after them with force magic when they reach the ice of the Frostbacks. Anders looks over his shoulder less and less, turning his attention instead to those golden cracks inside, nurturing them. With every Inquisition scout they come across, the cracks grow.
Ice-needled wind claws at his hood, obscuring a flame-and-veilfire torch pattern ahead: one ebon fire, the rest either ruby or eerie dream-blue spiralling out from the black. There are tents and people milling around, he can see that much.
“Inquisition mages,” murmurs Hawke. “Can tell they’re scouts by the ice barrier. Major camps use spirit.”
“Mages as scouts? Might be overkill.”
“I think the Inquisitor is a little jumpy these days. Something to do with temples falling out of the sky and ancient darkspawn. You know how it is. Magic exists to be a pain in the ass.”
Anders pushes him from behind, playful. “It can’t hope to be worse than you.”
“I’m a role model for today’s youth. No idea what you’re on about.”
Read the rest at AO3 here!
