A/N: This incredibly silly little drabble was inspired while JayRain was helping me get through a 14 hour day at work. Some of the dialogue is due to her, most likely the best of it. I giggled like a loon the whole time I was coming up with these, so I thought I would share this. I probably could have gone on for days, but that would just be sillier than this already is.

So, without further ado, Dragon Age Meets Dr. Seuss. BioWare owns all. I just butcher their lovely creations for fun.

My sincere apologies to both Dr. Seuss and to Anders for what I have done to them.

The battle was over. There had been waves and waves of Tal Vashoth – it almost seemed like they were appearing out of thin air, thought they'd probably been coming out of that cave behind them. The attacks had finally stopped, though, and Hawke looked around, making sure that everyone was all right.

She gasped when she saw Fenris clutch his hands to his side before doubling over and collapsing. She ran to him, kneeling and moving his hands from his wounds so she could see. He was clearly unconscious, since he wasn't fighting her. Well, then it wouldn't bother him to be touched.

She hissed as she saw the damage. The kossith had caved in his armour – his rib cage was shattered. This was beyond what an elfroot poultice could do.

"ANDERS!" she called, truly worried. Fenris was deathly pale, the lyrium markings standing out against his skin. It seemed to be ages before she heard running feet pelting up behind her.

"Maker, this is bad," he said, kneeling down next to Fenris. "I don't know if I can heal this," he said.

"What do you mean? You can heal anything!" Hawke cried.

"It's not the injury, it's the lyrium. Justice says that my magic may react in odd ways with his markings."

"You've never healed him before?"

"We usually don't travel together, you know that," Anders snapped.

"Anders, he'll die, if you don't," Hawke said.

"Fine, but on your head be it," Anders answered, and gathered his mana.

"Blondie, you sure you're all right?" Varric asked, when they were back at the Hanged Man. Hawke had taken Fenris back to her Hightown mansion so that Orana could "fuss over him", as Fenris had put it. But since that comment was all the protest he made, they were all sure that he was more injured than he let on. Anders had not been able to do much more than stabilize him and bring him back to consciousness, as Fenris' markings had glowed a sickly green color when Anders had begun to heal him. When the glow had begun to surround Anders as well, they had decided he should stop. He'd done enough to get Fenris out of immediate danger.

Anders had looked quite pale after, so Varric had taken him back to his rooms at the Hanged Man and put food in front of him...then some more food when he ate all of the first plate almost without pausing to breathe. Clearly whatever he'd done had affected him somehow, and not positively.

"It's just been a long night," Anders answered.

"I know, but you really looked haggard when you got up from healing Broody. You almost seemed to stagger," Varric said.

"You mean you're worried because I'm not walking with my usual swagger?" Anders asked, eyebrow raised.

Varric raised his own eyebrows in return. Anders had just rhymed twice in a row. Perhaps he was imagining it.

"Blondie, let's play a little game. I say a word and you say the first thing that comes into your mind?"

"Varric, what are you up to?" Anders answered.

"Just humor me. Cat."

"Rat."

"Dog."

"Hog."

"Hawke."

"Rock."

"Blondie, are you aware that you've answered everything I've said with a rhyme?"

"What? I have not. You make things up all the time," Anders said.

"You just did it again,"

"It's a coincidence. Those do happen every now and then," he said, and then frowned.

"That was not what I meant to say. I wonder if healing the elf affected me this way," Anders said.

Varric's lips quirked up in a smile. "Does Justice have any clues?" he asked.

"No, but he does point out that when Hawke asked me to heal the elf he said I should refuse," Anders answered, and then growled.

"This is all his fault. I should have left him there to rot," Anders said, then stood and began to pace.

"I do not like his armour spikes. About him I have many dislikes." Varric winced. Just because Blondie was speaking in poetry apparently didn't mean it had to be good poetry. Anders was just getting warmed up though, it seemed.

"I do not like his broody face. I'd like to smash it with a mace."

"I do not like his bluish glow. I'd like to shoot him with a bow," he continued, which made Varric smile to himself. Guess Blondie thought that he was the only one who should glow blue. He almost said something, but the boy was on a roll, so Varric just sat back and let him keep rolling. This looked to be highly entertaining.

"I do not like his hate for mages. I do not like his incessant rages."

"I do not like him in Hawke's bed. I'd like to drop him on his head"

"I do not like him with an elf. I do not like him by himself."

"I do not like his messy hair. I do not like him anywhere."

"I do not like his loathsome smirk...I really find him quite a jerk."

"I do not like that he is such a cynic. I do not want him in my clinic."

"I do not like his broody voice. I would never see him if I had a choice."

"I do not like his stupid sword..." he said, and then fumbled for a moment.

"You would not give him an award?" Varric supplied, which made Anders scowl.

"You, my friend, are of no help. If you keep this up I will make you yelp," Anders said, and then growled anew.

"This rhyming I cannot stop. I sound just like an utter fop," he said, which made Varric chuckle.

"You're even speaking in poetic meter. What the hell happened when you healed Broody?"

"I cannot continue to speak this way – not another hour, not another day!" Anders said, which made Varric pity him even as he laughed. This really was funny, although it had to be driving Blondie insane. He really shouldn't bait him, but he found that he wasn't able to resist.

"Seems like a strange price to pay for healing Fenris..." Varric said and waited to see if Blondie could come up with a rhyme.

"Next time I won't be so gen'rous," Anders promised, which made Varric laugh and laugh. He had no idea what sort of magic had made Anders have this compulsion for poetry, but it was definitely entertaining. This was the most laughing he'd done in weeks. He finally was able to stop laughing and decided to stop tormenting the poor mage.

"Ok, Blondie, I'll have pity on you and not make you talk anymore. I'd buy you a drink but I know how Justice feels about that," Farric said.

"I would prefer the oblivion of drinking over the torture of thinking," Anders answered...well, Justice answered, if the hollow quality had that crept into Anders' voice was any indication.

"Ouch...it's got you doing it too, eh Justice? Well, the drinks are on me, then," Varric said.

"Andraste's knickerweasels..." was the first thing Varric heard upon awakening, followed by a cheer and then a groan. Apparently Blondie was hung over.

"Oh, thank the Maker, I can talk again," said Anders as Varric walked out of his bedroom. Anders had slept on Varric's divan since he'd been too drunk to return to his clinic. Varric figured Blondie could do with a more comfortable bed than those cots, anyway.

"You seem recovered. Any idea what happened?" Varric asked.

"No...it was some strange thing with the magic and the lyrium. Justice thinks I had a reaction of some sort. There's something strange about those tattoos. How that elf isn't dead of lyrium poisoning I'll never know," Anders said.

"I'll leave magic to you, Blondie. Dwarf, remember?" Varric said.

"Right. Well, I won't be healing him again anytime soon. Is it utterly futile to hope you will keep last night to yourself?" Anders asked, which made Varric laugh.

"Yes it is, Blondie, yes it is. I will, however, not mention to Hawke that you're jealous of Broody."

"Well, thanks to the Maker for small favors, at least," Anders said.