1. The First Impression

Goddamn, I don't know what it is with Dragon Age and me consistently picking the less adored character (cough*yeah we all love Alistair but poor Zevran*cough...)

But much as I liked Fenris, I kind of accidentally started an Andersmance, and once you do that with your Female!Mage!Hawke then there's not really any going back. And with the freaking ending... well, there's been some drama. And nothing makes me want to write like rooting for the underdog + drama.

IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

—This is an AU in the sense that I've never played Awakening, so Justice in this story is radically different from the in-game one (mostly because I got the idea before realizing he was a party character... also because this is more fun.) So I am deviating from canon, but I'm acknowledging it, so we're all good, right?

—Character debrief: Female!Snarky!Mage!Hawke (I'm a fan of exclamation points), first name Ariadne. Likes fire. All else will follow.

Disclaimer: Don't own DA2.

It is raining when he meets her, just like it is raining when he loses her.

The first time, the rain is coming down hard outside the open window of his clinic, splashing through onto the floor with every petulant gust of wind. He has just finished healing and, as the patient and his family hurry towards the door—no one, after all, sticks around in an apostate's den—he slumps back against the table's edge, struggling to catch his breath. He knows, with a tired and painful certainty, that he is wearing himself down. Healing day in and day out can't last forever, even with a spirit helping him; it weighs on him, a shadow on the back of his neck. He can't keep going like this.

It's almost funny how she walks in the door just as he thinks, Something is going to have to change.

He didn't see her coming, but Justice did, and told him right away. Justice is bad at being silent. Anders had never thought that the spirit would have such a mouth on him—a spirit of Justice just sounded too austere to be sarcastic, didn't it?—but, then again, he'd been wrong about a lot to do with Justice.

Turn around, you lazy bugger, says the spirit sharply, jolting him to attention. Staff out, look scary. Remember how to do that?

Yes, I remember, Anders replies, and turns around quickly as she breezes through the doorway. Her dark hair is wet from the rain, and her cheeks slick with water. What else? In a moment he knows everything: that her armor is well taken care of but still obviously cheap, scarred with the white lines of sword-blows; that she's limping slightly; that, just for a moment, she looks frightened. But these are Justice's observations. Anders sees none of this, only the intruder.

"Stop right there," he growls, reaching for his staff. "I've made this clinic into a place of healing, and I am not about to let you destroy that."

"Whoa," she says, holding both her hands up in surrender, and Anders at last finds something worth noticing: the staff strapped across her back. It stops him. You don't get a lot of mages walking free in Kirkwall, let alone ones hunting down another apostate. Then he feels her gaze on him, a faint, prickling sensation, and catches himself. "Why are you here?" he presses quickly, to hide the pause.

"Looking for the Gray Warden. Though you don't seem to be doing a lot of Warden-ing." She glances, calm but thorough, around the room, taking in every detail, and he knows that she is more serious than she lets on. A little flutter of fear runs though him and Justice both, one and the same.

"Are you from the Wardens? Did they send you to take me back?" The bitch won't know what she's getting into, Justice grins, and Anders's hands tighten on the staff. "I'm not going," he snaps. "Those bastards made me give up my cat."

She frowns, eyebrows drawing together. "Cat?"

Justice deflates all at once. Bloody hell. Here we go...

"Ser Pounce-a-lot," Anders replies, still wary but not entirely so. "Made it through the Deep Roads with me and everything. Nearly took down a genlock once, back in the day. Scratched the blighter on the nose, enough to draw blood."

This girl is not here to hear about your blighted kitten, Anders.

"A noble beast," he adds, mostly to Justice, but when he looks back up at the intruder, she's trying to hide a grin.

"He sounds like a terror."

"They made me give him up in Amaranthine," he admits sadly, even as Justice berates, Stay on your sodding guard! "It was a dark day in my Warden-ship, let me tell you. And—" Anders! Justice shrieks, and abruptly he remembers that this woman is still a threat. "And if you're here to take me back, then you'll have to take me by force, because I'm never coming with you!"

"Relax," she said, a full smile breaking across her face. "I'm about as far from a Warden as you can get. Name's Hawke." She extends a hand, pale and marked with delicate white scars. "Ariadne Hawke. I'd say maybe you've heard of me, but I'd be a pretty awful apostate if you had."

He's slightly shocked by her casual use of the word, but she grins straight after, as if to reassure him. "Come on," she prods, "you're not going to turn me in, right? I'd say now we're even."

She's got a point. "Fine," he replies, Justice not letting him return the smile. "I'm Anders."

At last he takes her hand and shakes it dubiously. She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "Okay," she mutters, "Anders. Can I at least know if it's a first or last name?"

"If you've got a point, make it." He's not really losing patience, but Justice is, and the words are less Anders's than his. Hawke hesitates, and then shrugs easily.

"Fair enough. I was here to ask for your help."

He tries so hard to ignore her as she launches into her proposal, but she's so damn persuasive, and there's something he likes a lot about her grin, the way she smiles like she's got a joke she's not telling. He keeps saying no to this Deep Roads venture, but he's seriously starting to wonder how he can find out more about this mage. By the time he's saying, "A favor for a favor?" Justice has stopped trying to make himself heard and falls quiet with a, well, at least make damn sure you save Karl before you start fantasizing about her.

And Anders, who has never worried before about tempting fate, replies, She's not going to be a distraction, Justice.

Those are an example of famous last words.

Basically... Justice is a snarky bastard. If it's not going to keep you from reading... well, thanks, and reviews are always appreciated!

—skrybble