fadewalk

It was dungeon night and that meant that Anders was scrambling to his computer with caffeine shakes and a bag of corn chips he found in the cupboard that he wasn't sure were his, but he knew they were waiting - Hawke was waiting - because it was the night before reset and they only had three more hours to clear to the Architect and get a couple of attempts in before they had to clear the whole of the Deep Roads again.

And Anders hated healing trash pulls.

But he was settled now, even if he felt... off. A little slow on the draw, too distracted by half by Hawke's voice in his ear. He'd wanted, for weeks now, to have a conversation that was... more. More than conversations about how his classes were going, or what stupid t-shirt Hawke had caught Carver wearing while taking mirror selfies and flexing. (Although hearing Carver's outraged howling through Hawke's headset mic had been pretty fantastic.)

It didn't fix the leaden feeling in Anders stomach, and... Man, he felt feverish. Weird. He unmuted his mic to call a bathroom break, get a drink of water, whatever, but there was suddenly fire in his veins and he couldn't see anything and he knew he was screaming.

Everything went cold, and... wet. Really, really wet. He thrashed, choking on a mouthful of water, trying to find his way to the surface of a... pond. A big, freezing cold pond? What the actual fuck?

He managed to find footing in the shallow water and pushed himself toward the edge of the small lake, gasping and coughing. When he lifted his head and saw the outline of a castle he barked a sudden, hoarse laugh.

"It finally happened. I've gone completely barking mad."