remember this........
“…I wouldn’t have to be alone.” Cyrus came to a stop, rocked on his heels, and pivoted toward Anders. He flinched, but Cyrus grabbed him by the waist, hands firm and nails digging. For the first time that morning, Cyrus smiled, looking up at Anders with a warmth so soft you could forgive it for scalding you. “Not if I had my healer with me.”
Justice mounted like a wave in Anders’ chest— swelling, roiling, cresting, and he found himself taking Cyrus’ hands into his own. He didn’t know if the gesture was his or the spirit’s, but they didn’t feel so far apart now as he brought Cyrus’ hands to his mouth and inhaled deeply. No metal or blood or sweat, just wafts of lavender soap and honeyed lotion lathered over all the scars and freckles. No objections about Cyrus being a distraction, just the softness of his knuckles under their lips. A being of pure abstraction luxuriating in the mundanity of physical touch.
“Please…”
The word came out somewhere between his voice and Justice’s, and before Anders could stop himself, his body buckled. In that instant, Anders felt the spirit as powerfully as he only ever had when he witnessed the templars’ injustices, and it drove him to his knees. To fealty.
from here