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The Herald's Rest was mostly dark and silent, except for the fire lit in the great hearth casting flickering shadows about the walls, and the blue glow emanating from a certain apostate sitting before the fire next to Marian Hawke.

Anders took a deep breath and the fade cracks receded from his skin. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, and cradled a mostly-empty mug of some piss-quality ale in his free hand.

"Sorry," he said, yet again. "We've all but given up Justice's return to the Fade being a possibility. Really, I think he expected to die when I did. Seeing as I didn't, that leaves us both in a bit of a lurch." He looked into the flames with a frown.

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Anders snorted again, and gave a real, if small, smile this time.

"Yes, the black does make me look rather washed out, doesn't it? Too much time in Darktown, I suppose."

He dropped his hand onto Varric's shoulder finally, and his smile turned strained.

"Well, I was too. Mostly. Till I found myself...here." He waved a hand about vaguely. "That Hawke is your Hawke, I take it?" he said, nodding towards Marian and giving Varric a probing look.

Varric had an astonishingly good poker face, but even he couldn't keep the flinch off his face at the question. "Maybe," he said. "I haven't looked close enough to be certain."

Anders sighed. "Pity. I would have liked to reminisce with you about my Hawke, the one with the snark and the bad jokes at terrible times. That one is...softer, I guess. But."

He squinted at Varric. "Nightmare demons, stuck physically in the Fade, any of that ring a bell for your Hawke?"

"Left to die."

Anders started at that and gave Varric a shocked stare.

"Fucking void, Varric, what kind of future are you coming from? Maker. How could you..." He cut himself off and ran a shaking hand down his face.

"That would explain the whole haunted, hunted, been-fighting-demons-for-an-indefinite-period-of-time thing she has going on," he said instead.

Varric's hands squeezed tight around his mug. He wanted to glance toward Hawke, but he couldn't. "We entered the Fade in the flesh," he said. "I ran ahead with the others, thinking she was behind me. She wasn't. She died. The Inquisitor told me she died."

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and shook his head.

"I don't know why I care. You're not my Varric, even if you're like him, because she's your Hawke, and she's not my Hawke, and any future with her in it doesn't necessarily have to be very similar to any futures with my Hawke, and I'm going to go mad from thinking about all this..." he muttered, and then there was a soft shimmer of blue in his eyes that shivered down his skin and disappeared. "Yes, fine, thank you Justice, I am aware," he snapped.

He settled his amber eyes back on Varric and said wearily, "You should go talk to her, Varric. Maybe it's just weird because she's being so nice to me, nicer even than Cosa usually is and that woman is," he can't help but offer a small smile as he says, "in love with me. And maybe Marian is just always that nice, I don't fucking know. I just think she seems sad."

"We don't know that," Varric hedged. Honestly, that was part of the reason for the drinking. He wasn't sure he wanted to know whether she was the Hawke he knew or not.

Anders just gave him a flat look that had as much of Justice's disapproval in it as his own.

(ooc: sorry to just pop in, but since this thread says it's open I thought there was no problem just showing up :x)

The Inquisitor was confused. Very confused.
'Creators take me... what is going on here? Who are those people?'

Varric...!
She had to find Varric, before her sanity just reached its end.

Aria approached him while he was talking to a curious looking shemlen, wearing a black, feathery coat, and gave them her best smile.

"Excuse me, hi." she motioned her hand in a cumpliment "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need this dwarf." and without waiting, she sat by Varric's side "Varric, what in the Void is going on here?"

It was a relief to see another familiar face--and this one he was fairly sure really did come from his world. "Inquisitor. Maker's balls, it's good to see you. Sera's going to want to know you're here."

Which wasn't exactly an answer, but it was a start.

(OOC: Hi! Inquisitor, Varric, Anders for posting order?)

(OOC: works for me!)

(ooc: works for me too!)

"Sera's here too?! Creators, she must be reaaaaally pissed to be dragged to this magical Fade shit."

Aria rubbed her forehead, grabbing Varric's mug and drinking from it.

"I thought our problems with the Fade were done when we defeated Corypheus!"

Varric snorted. "You know that never worked on me, Blondie," he pointed out. "Too damn stubborn."

Anders rubbed his face and sighed.

"Yes, well, forgive me if I'm not exactly on top of my game at the moment, between Justice's screeching about this place and the curious lack of my lovers. Oh, and also, the still breathing thing."

He reached around the bar and pulled out a bottle of something strong-looking, which he proceeded to drink straight from the bottle, Justice's thoughts on alcohol be damned.

He spared a partially curious, partially indifferent glance to the elf when she approached.