So, wow! I've not been on here in forever! Well first things first, this would be my first fanfic in years, so go easy, and its my first Dragon age one, sooo.

This is kinda just what i was thinking going through the game. And lets just get this straight, I love Anders, I could, ever, do anything to hurt him. So I've decided to combat all the angst surrounding him all over the internet. Because everywhere I turn, its Anders dying, or Hawke breaking up with him. Me and Anders had some unfinished business from Awakening...Yes, I realize that the following is slightly angsty, but I think it turned out all right, at least I hope, you be the judges.

So I used my Hawke for descriptive purposes, not that I dont like default Hawke, I just find her chin a little too sharp, but I digress. Terpsichore (Tep-sy-core-e) Hawke is a dual-weapon rouge, and quite the mage supporter, and no not just because of Anders, because of her sister and father too.

The following contains end-game spolie-well just spoilers in general as I was trying to get a picture of Hawke throughout her ten years in Kirkwall. I focused more on her feelings so that we might see why she did what she did in the end.

Not Changing

When had she become so romantic?

Back in Lothering, she made fun of Carver and Bethany when they had their little romances, it was cute for sure, but nauseating. She had had some herself of course, but that was purely physical. She had a job; taking care of family, and assuming her father's role after he died left her no time for romantic endeavors. She had mouths to feed; to take care of; to protect. Terpsichore Hawke was a busy, busy woman.

So she focused on other things. Becoming a better fighter, training Achilles to be a better war hound, helping Carver practice, Bethany practice; she had burn marks to prove those, and helping mother tend house.

Then the proverbial rug was ripped out from under her feet.

A war against the Darkspawn; the coming of a blight. She and Carver both rushed off to help the cause, the king's army needed all the help it could get.

And then the defeat at Ostegar. She had never run so fast in her life, had never had such single minded thoughts, Get Bethany, get mother, ESCAPE. She and Carver barley made it out of Ostegar alive.

Carver, poor Carver. The little fool, trying to play hero. Even now a year later her mother blamed her, and why not? It was her job to protect them, and she had failed. No matter how she supported the family now, whatever good she did, she wouldn't erase the failure. He was such an idiot, always trying to one up her. She missed him dearly.

So back to the original question, when had she become so romantic?

Surely there was no time in the past year after fleeing the blight for her personality to change so drastically. She had spent it smuggling, not really a job to breed romantic thoughts.

And yet looking at him that first time, this mage, this Anders, she felt all those stupid things that was written in books; her heart was a flutter, he knees felt like jelly. She couldn't stop herself from giving him, what she hoped was, a sexy smile, even if Bethany rolled her eyes at her. He was handsome and caring, and just downright sexy with his constant brooding.

Stupid Varric, insisting they needed an entrance to the deep roads. Stupid her for readily giving the apostate what he wanted; when he wanted it, no matter what it was. Her mother would have been proud though. She wondered if this was what her mother went through; for Terpsichore had never felt more like the woman. Falling in love with an apostate? Ha!

Love? Yes, love, it had taken her a minimum of weeks to fall for him, to become so attached, so attuned to him. How history repeats itself.

Despite the spirit inside him, despite his claims he was no good for her, she didn't care. He was…was…perfect. He did such good, helped so many, herself and all their companions included, even Fenris! How could he ever hurt her? If it was the last thing she did, she would get her happily ever after with him.

"What are you doing?"

It had been a tense couple of weeks, filled with her trying to get close to him again, and him only pushing her away, not ready to let anyone in after the incident in the Gallows tunnels.

"Putting out milk," he answered standing up to face her. "I miss having a cat around, but I think the refugees have scared them all off, or maybe eaten them." He came a bit closer and looked her straight in the eyes, "You know I've been meaning to thank you; you don't need to stick your neck out for the mages here, but you have. You let those apostates from Starkhaven start over. Maybe they can be an example for the world."

She smiled, "It would kill me to see the Templar's lock you up," she answered him truthfully, because she had always been truthful with him, that wasn't going to change now.

He frowned and gripped her forearms and looked down at the floor. "I've tried to hold back," he said, "you saw what I almost did to that girl. You've seen what I am." She could practically feel the tension in his voice, and his hands were gripping her almost painfully. He averted his gaze to her, and hazel met gray, "But I'm still a man. You can't tease me like this forever and expect me to resist forever."

They were impossibly close, she could feel his body heat and his gaze was burning her. She licked her lips and smiled, "I don't want you to resist."

He was on her in a matter of milliseconds, somehow trying to release three years of pent up passion into one kiss. His lips were soft, but demanding; he backed her up into a wall and ravaged her mouth, left her breathless.

He pulled away much too soon, and she whimpered. He held her by the waist, and leaned his forehead on her shoulder, "This will be a disaster, but I can't live without it," he moved one hand from her waist and cupped her cheek, looking at her with those piercing eyes again. "We could die tomorrow. I don't want it to be before I tell you how I feel."

She sighed and closed her eyes. Moments passed before she opened them again, feeling more content than she ever had, "I've never felt this way about anyone."

The smile seemed unable to leave his lips, "I thought with Justice, this part of me was over. I can't give you a normal life."

Maker help her she didn't want one if it meant being with him.

"If you're with me, we'll be hunted, hated. The whole world will be against us," he continued.

She smiled at the thought; she'd fight the world for him if needed.

"If your door is open tonight, I will come to you. If not, I'll know you took my warning at last," he told her walking deeper inside the clinic and leaving her by the doors.

She smiled and ran home as fast as she could intent on getting clean before the evening arrived.

"I need you to leave the front door open tonight Bodahn," Terpsichore told the older dwarf as she brushed her hair, trying to keep the him from noticing the blush on her cheeks.

"Open my lady?" he questioned unsure as to why she would ask such a ludicrous thing of him.

The blush only deepened, and she turned away from the dwarf and to Achilles. "Yes, I'm expecting a visitor tonight and I don't want to bother anyone if they come late. Now Achilles do mommy a favor and watch the door," she said petting the mabari and walking away.

"Yes messier," Bodahn sighed.

Hours later found her pacing her room and worrying her bottom lip. Had he changed his mind? Just as she was about to give up waiting and grab her daggers, she heard feet coming up the stairs. She held her breath and a moment later, Anders appeared in her doorway, looking unsure and smug at the same time if that was possible.

"You're here," she breathed in a sigh of relief. "I wasn't sure you would come," she said wriggling her fingers.

"Justice does not approve of my obsession with you," he told her smiling, "he believes you're a distraction." He walked closer to her and again gripped her waist rubbing a thumb over the fabric there. "It is one of the few things on which he and I disagree."

She placed a hand on his cheek, a blush forming on her face, "If you hadn't come, I'd be out looking for you."

He smiled as he studied her face, and her hand moved to grasp his shoulders. "When I was in the Circle, love was only a game. It gave the Templar's too much power if there was something you couldn't stand to lose," his smile had faded, and his face took on a pained look as he moved his gaze to the floor, "It would kill me to lose you."

She turned his head to face her, "You aren't going to lose me," she said with a shake of her head and a smile.

Desire ran across his features as he moved his hand to cover her cheek, he released slight tendrils of magic that shot up her spine, "No mage I know has ever dared to fall in love. This is the rule I will most cherish breaking."

He kissed her then, not a rushed kiss as it was earlier in the day, but this was soft, loving, her knees buckled with the romance of it all. When they broke apart, she smiled as coyly as she could and grabbed his hand leading him to the bed. She laid down on it, and he followed suit immediately, his body covering hers.

He was so big, so manly, and he smelled like smoke and wood and elfroot. He was gentle; kissing her deeply, exploring her mouth as if he had all the time in the world. His hands, and the magic he released ran up and down her sides, sending tingles through her entire body, and she had to break away from his mouth to moan. She began to burn deep in her stomach.

He smirked and moved to nibble her neck leaving a love bite. Regaining some of the composure she was supposed to possess, she moved to untie his hair, having the blonde strands fall down on her. She yanked on them and brought his mouth back to hers. She kissed him, biting his lower lip and receiving a moan for her efforts. They had rolled so that she was on her side and he was under her. A slightly calloused hand delved inside her robes, he found nothing but bare skin, and ran his hand over her shoulder and down to her breast. She cried out at the attention and this let him roll her back to their original position as he pulled the robe off so it pooled at her waist. He kissed her once, twice on the lips, before moving down her neck, biting and licking until he got to his desired prize.

He ravaged her breasts, teasing until the nipples were erect. He nipped and it was followed by the smoothing of his tongue, while his hand squeezed the other. Then he switched. She was trying to be quiet, trying not to wake anyone but Anders' ministrations had her panting and squirming beneath him, the burning in her stomach intensifying tenfold.

Her hands had somehow moved from his hair, and started pulling at his impossible outfit, and for the love of the Maker, she could not get it off.

"Anders," she whined at him. He answered her with a chuckle, but moved to place another kiss on her lips.

"Yes love?" he said kissing her neck again.

She groaned and tugged at the outfit again, "You have too much clothing on!" He smiled and moved off her.

Slowly he undressed as she watched him with lust filled eyes. She threw off the robe and yanked off the house boots she wore and stood on her knees on the bed looking him over. He was some kind of Adonis, his skin was tan, and he was muscular everywhere.

He walked back to her taking her head in his hands and molding her mouth to his. She clawed at his scalp and pressed herself against him, feeling his bare skin touch her, his member poking at her stomach.

"Terpsichore, you're lovely," he murmured into her ear, gripping her waist and moving to bite her clavicle.

"Mmm, I could say the same about you, except, manly works better in this instance," she said smiling and reveling in the way his chuckle vibrated against her body.

He kissed her slowly, and pushed her back onto the bed, covering her body yet again, and in an instant he was inside her, throbbing and hot, that alone nearly did her in as she moaned from the sheer pleasure of it all.

He set a slow rhythm, on that she could easily keep up with and kissed her again, his hands gripping her flesh so hard, she was sure it would bruise. At some point she whispered faster to him and his pace nearly doubled. He was pounding into her, hard and fast, the only sounds in the room his harsh pants, her deep moans and the constant slapping of flesh.

She felt as though she would explode, even as he pushed deeper inside her, he looked just as deep within her eyes, bringing her closer to climax when he shot electricity onto her swollen nub. That had her digging her nails into his back and nearly screaming.

As if he couldn't get deep enough, he pulled her legs to wrap around him, and slammed into her at a furious pace. And she reached her climax, calling out his name, and then biting him on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood, waves of pleasure washing over her. He was soon to follow, riding her orgasm and crying out her name.

He collapsed on top of her breathing heavy. She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the stillness of the moment, with a content smile on her face.

She didn't know how long they had lain there, but it was Anders who shifted, moving his head from her breasts, to look her in the face, "I love you. I've been holding back from saying that. You should have a normal life, not be tied down to a fugitive with no future," he said the last part looking at her stomach and drawing lazy circles on it. "But I don't ever want to leave you," he said looking into her eyes again.

She smiled and cupped the side of his face, "You idiot, don't ever leave!"

He moved to kneel, and she slowly sat up. "Do you mean that? Would you have me here, living with you? Would you tell the world, the Knight Commander, that you love an apostate, and will stand beside him?" he asked studying her face.

"I want you right here, until the day we die," she said gripping his hands.

"For three years I have lain awake every night aching for you. I'm still terrified I'll wake up," his face broke into the widest smile she had ever seen and he claimed her lips yet again.

Mother was dead. Carver was dead. Bethany was a Grey Warden and hated Terpsichore for it. All of her faults were piling up on her, she couldn't do anything right; she cried for hours at a time now. Once the brave and fearless Terpsichore Hawke, reduced to a pile of tears. She felt so useless and she hated herself for it.

She had failed them, failed them all, and the only family she had left hated her.

It was Anders who helped her survive, saved her from herself, Anders who made her whole again.

With him she swore she would never go wrong. She would give him whatever he wanted, if she did one thing right she would make him happy.

Lied to her! Didn't trust her enough to tell her, used her, betrayed her, and expected her to kill him!

Far enough into the wilderness, she stopped her stomping forward; halting the entire party. The rest of her companions were wary of her and of Anders, who was now traveling at the back of the procession. He refused to meet her gaze. To be honest, no one wanted to meet her gaze lest she unleash her anger on them. She knew what her face must show, fury, anger, most of all, hurt.

She'd had enough. She just killed countless people, mages had died, Templars had died, and everyone in the Chantry had died. Sebastian had vowed retribution and left them all. Orsino was dead. Meredith was dead. There was so much blood on her hands. The only bright light was that she had gotten Bethany back. But there was so much blood. It covered her, it was caked on her, she felt like it was burned into her skin.

All because of Anders, and his stupid Justice. She wanted to scream, cry and hit something all at once. So she did.

She let out a scream of fury and walked up to him. He looked at her with the eyes of a lost puppy, but she wasn't feeling sympathetic right now. She grabbed him by his stupid black feathers and punched him hard enough to knock him down. Then jumped on top of him and hit him on the chest, repeatedly. He took all of it without a word or noise of protest. She screamed about how much of an idiot he was, and how he'd doomed them all. And when she was done, she cried on his prone body, her forehead on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. He was comforting her. Again.

The rest of their companions watched from a distance, taking this time to set up a camp for the night. She wasn't really sure if they agreed with her not killing Anders, hell, if they agreed with any of her decisions, but they had stuck by her and for that she was grateful.

And when she was ready he grabbed her hand and led her foreword; to the camp, to their friends, their family, the future.

Because when she met him, he changed her forever. He was her weakness, the one person she would do anything for. Even turn a blind eye to his blowing up on the Chantry.

And despite all that, because of him, she didn't mind being romantic, Maker help her, she wouldn't change a thing about the last ten years of her life.

"I should have trusted you. Even with all we've shared, I never thought you'd spare my life. Thank you for that, and thank you for coming with me, Tep."

"You're a bloody idiot Anders I hope you realize that," she said stopping their short walk and gripping his hand tighter, "but I love you, don't ever forget that."

"I love you too," he ran a finger over the side of her face, and then cupped it, "We will fight for a world where our children can be born mages and free. Ten years from now, a hundred years from now, someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no Templars to tear them apart," he smiled at her and put a hand over her stomach.

She kissed him again, remembering exactly why she fell in love with him in the first place. He completed her. Where she was violent and brooding, he was romantic, and where he was violent and brooding, she was romantic. He had changed her, but dammit, it was a good change. Even if it had gotten her into this mess.

"C'mon Hawke, I need to get this all written down for the story!" Varric called from the camp.

She smiled and gripped Anders' hand yet again. All this? He was worth it.

He was worth Everything.

I hope you enjoyed, please review!