InsaneJournal

WHO: Anders and Merrill
WHAT: Neria's gone, Justice was defeated, and now Merrill has a broken down Anders.
WHEN: Today
WHERE: Anders and Alistair's apartment
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Incomplete



Loss was not something that Anders was unfamiliar with. It was simply a fact of life for a healer and especially a mage. People died all the time in his arms, with him trying desperately to keep them alive. He got over it, it happened. But people were not Neria. People were not the commander who saved his life, the first person that he had allowed himself to even start to love. Love meant not being able to give something up, that it mattered enough that someone else could use them to hurt you. Anders had spent his life so far from any notion of the emotion, romantic or otherwise, that the only time he could possible imagine feeling it was in relation to his mother, a woman so far removed from his life that her face had disappeared from his mind's eye and all that was left of her was a pillow that accompanied him on each escape attempt. The closest he had ever gotten was with Karl and even then that had been more a youthful infatuation, one that had grown into a friendship before he too was taken away.

But there were no templars here, no chantry or duty to the wardens that would have forced him and Neria apart. And still she was gone, her life slipped away and her spirit with the Maker, if the Maker could reach a place like this. She was just gone and Anders had no idea how he was supposed to handle the ache in chest. Justice had tried, his friend, as twisted as he was from Anders' rage had tried to bring some sort of justice to the senselessness of it all. But even he could not do anything, not truly. The woman still walked free and he was still alone. Just as he always meant to be.

The physical ache in his limbs from Justice's attempt drew him out of his thoughts long enough for him to summon a bit of his magic. It was a slow process, lying in his bed and waiting for his energy to return. Bit by bit he had healed himself from near death himself. He was unsure why he bothered but at that point usually Lord Mewsy would jump onto the bed, mewling with worry and kneading his battered body in an attempt to get attention. The kitten jumped up now, walking across his pillows and settling above his head with another mewl, demanding any attention from Anders he could get.