Cut The Rose 18More Like This
Hawke sat in the chair and watched in silence.
It had been a while since Isabela had left, taking the shrouded staff with her. A part of him idly wondered what was taking so long; the part that was not intent upon the sleeping mage.
He stared at Anders' sleeping face, his blue eyes sad and sombre. His elbows rested upon the arms of the wooden chair as he slumped against the hard back, hands steepled beneath his chin, a troubled look upon his worn features.
His gaze drifted over towards the unconscious elf and his frown deepened. If not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, one might think Fenris were dead. Uneasy, Hawke shook his head slowly.
"What have you done, Anders?" he mused softly aloud. There was no answer; Hawke expected none. He stared at the still face he had seen so often in his dreams; it seemed too unreal that they were together, reunited once more and yet further apart than they had ever been, the mage lost within a realm where the warrior had no power to foll