"Yes," Anders says sternly, suddenly hovering as though in imminent readiness for sitting upon. "And you won't enjoy it. Stay there and let me look after you."

As though he hasn't been doing that for a while now. As though Hawke hasn't spent far too much time in bed. Honestly, Anders wants him up and about just as much as Hawke does, but since he can't just wash a couple of clean green spells over him and this is the real world the checking up process is a little longer, more complicated.

As soon as he thinks it's safe to move away from Hawke's bedside, he goes over to start making them food, sawing off thick slabs of black bread to be spread with creamy, salty protein and topped with slices of what might be an actual tomato, small and green. "You've been out for a while, anyway, your muscles might have forgotten how to get you about again."