Sunshine—Maker-blessed sunshine. And trees, and birds, and flowers, and fresh air. Anders resisted the urge to fall to his knees and kiss the ground, but only just. They had finally made it out of the Deep Roads. That long horrible nightmare was over.

He looked over at his traveling companions, the ones with whom he'd been sealed in the Deep Roads and left to die, the ones with whom he'd managed to escape. The red-headed guardswoman Aveline; the dwarf Varric with his massive crossbow; and the rogue who had fearlessly led them back to the surface, Sarai Hawke. She beamed at him giddily, and his heart skipped a beat while his mind flashed to a still-fresh memory.

Bartrand, lyrium idol in hand, turned his back to leave. The door swung shut behind him. Within moments, it was clear that it was no accident—Bartrand meant for them to die shut up in the ancient thaig. Anders heard Sarai shout an order—"Look for another route!"—but he was frozen in place. Claustrophobia was crushing him. He could feel the immeasurable weight of rock above him. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in tiny, shallow gasps.

Then she appeared next to him, one hand firm on his arm, her voice in his ear. "We're going to be all right, Anders. We'll find another way out of here." Just then, Varric gave a shout.

"You see?" Sarai continued calmly. "Progress already. Come on." She gave his arm a squeeze. He felt his heart rate slow and his breathing steady. They went to see the passage Varric had discovered.

"Maker preserve me, I am never going into the Deep Roads again," Anders told the others. "Ever."

"You and me both, Blondie," Varric replied. Even Aveline nodded in heartfelt agreement.

"Oh, I don't know," Sarai said. "Didn't you appreciate the parts where the stones themselves got up and tried to kill us?"

"Not in the slightest," Anders answered. He looked around again, taking a grateful breath of fresh air. "Where are we, anyway?"

Varric also considered the landscape. "I think we're about a day north of Kirkwall, with probably a couple hours of daylight left today. We can be back home by tomorrow afternoon."

"Home," Sarai said blissfully. "Oh, what I wouldn't give for a bath and a bed! And I can't wait to see Mother and Bethany again."

"Well, let's not waste any more time," Aveline advised. "Come on."

~—~

The four arrived in Kirkwall as Varric had predicted, after spending only one more night on the road. They paused when they reached the Hightown Market. Sarai looked at her companions.

"It feels strange to go our separate ways, doesn't it?"

"We're out of danger now," Aveline said in her matter-of-fact way. "Immediate danger, anyway. And I need to report back to the guard. You know where to find me if you need me." With that, she headed towards the Keep.

"Come by the Hanged Man once you've gotten that bath, Hawke," Varric instructed. "I'll work on finding buyers for our haul—and finding out what happened to my no-good, nug-humping brother."

Sarai turned to Anders, but he spoke before she could. "Go see your family. I'm sure your mother's been worried sick about you, and they deserve to hear the good news."

"I suppose it is good news, isn't it? Mother might finally get the estate back, now." Sarai smiled at the mage. "Thank you, Anders. For everything." Then she turned and hurried towards home.

Once again, Anders' heart skipped a beat. When Sarai was safely out of earshot, he heaved a sigh. Her presence was almost too much to bear. Three weeks of constantly being close to her had done nothing to help his infatuation.

You're a fool, Anders, he told himself. Who would want to be with a spirit-possessed mage? And after all, the plight of mages is more important than your selfish desires. Enough distractions. He felt his resolve strengthening. I've more than paid her back for the help she gave me with Karl. Certainly, if she needs something, I can try to be of assistance. And perhaps she can be an ally to the mages.

His feet carried him, step by tired step, back to Darktown. Yes, she could be a resource. But in the meantime, I have work that needs to be done. The poor of the city, especially the refugees, knew his face. They saw him as he passed, and he heard the whispers of his return pass from one person to the next. By the time he got to the clinic, unlocked the doors and lit the lamps, there was already a small crowd outside. Anders set his shoulders and got to work.

~—~

Though she was exhausted, Sarai found herself more excited with every step as she made her way back to Lowtown. She was eager to see Bethany, tell her the stories of what she'd seen in the Deep Roads. And how Mother's face would light up when Sarai told her they'd found enough treasure to buy five Hightown estates!

Had she been paying attention, Sarai would have noticed the nervous movements of the Lowtown residents she passed, or the furtive glances they cast over their shoulders in the direction of Gamlen's house.

She missed these signs, but the Templars outside Gamlen's door, in their gleaming armor, could not be ignored. Sarai's blood ran cold at the sight of them. "No... No, it can't be," she whispered as she pushed past them and into the house, where two more Templars had already taken Bethany by the arms.

"What's happening here?!" she demanded, as if she didn't already know.

Leandra's eyes widened at the sight of her elder daughter, but it was Bethany who spoke. "Please don't do anything, sister."

One of the Templars caught Sarai's eye. "Mistress Bethany is being taken to the Circle of Magi in the Gallows."

Sarai was screaming on the inside. No, they can't take her! Not Bethany. I promised Father I would protect her! She heard her voice saying, "You can't go there."

"I have to," Bethany replied.

The rest of the conversation was a blur. The Templars said something, but Sarai couldn't hear them over the blood rushing in her ears. She could only watch as they led her sister away, as her mother fell to her knees. Another one of Leandra's children, lost.

Sarai had a vague sense of time passing, after that. She remembered picking Leandra up, consoling her as best she could. She brewed tea and coaxed her mother to eat something. As darkness settled over the house, Sarai led Leandra to bed and convinced her to try to sleep. Finally, when all she could hear was Leandra's slow breathing, she turned and fled the house that was far too empty without Bethany's presence.

She wandered through Lowtown aimlessly, willfully ignoring the danger of moving around the city alone at night. Her limbs were heavy; she felt numb. Slowly but inevitably, her route circled toward Darktown. She knew where she was going. There was only one person who would understand.

~—~

Anders rubbed his aching back. He had been healing patients for hours in spite of his fatigue. The truth was, he had not slept more than a few minutes at a time through the whole Deep Roads expedition. The claustrophobia pressing on his chest, the weight of the stone above him, and the scratching of the Darkspawn at the back of his mind had all conspired to make the journey a waking nightmare. Every time the group had stopped to rest, Anders had laid awake. Sometimes, he had been able to doze. Sometimes, he stared at the dull glow of lyrium and lava that lit the Deep Roads. Sometimes, he had listened to Sarai's steady breathing a few feet away from him.

He shook his head to dislodge the thought of her. More important things for me to be thinking about. Like the fate of every mage in Kirkwall. Or these sick people who need my help.

The clinic was finally quieting down. He had turned away the patients with minor illnesses or injuries, those whose needs could wait. Many more, he had been able to heal quickly. The few who remained were serious enough cases that he was keeping them in the clinic overnight. Finally, Anders could sleep.

Just as he turned toward his private cubby at the back of the clinic, he heard the door open. Another patient, or mercenaries looking to shake me down? Anders wondered wearily. He grasped his staff and turned back to the clinic entrance.

It was Sarai Hawke standing in the door. Anders felt a flash of annoyance—Is she really here to ask me another favor already? But there was something in her face, something he couldn't read.

"Anders..." Her voice sounded strange. Forced.

"What's wrong?" Anders asked in spite of himself, stepping forward.

"They took her, Anders," she said. "They took Bethany." On the last word, Sarai's voice broke. Saying it aloud had made it real; her knees buckled under her and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

Anders didn't have to ask who "they" were. His earlier resolve forgotten, he rushed to Sarai, kneeling beside her. Without stopping to think about what he was doing, he put his arms around her.

Sarai turned her face into his shoulder and wept. All the exhaustion of the journey, all the emotion she had been suppressing for her mother's sake, the aching loss of her sister and the fear for Bethany's safety—all this came out of her in a rush.

The patients in the clinic were staring at their healer and the distraught woman he was embracing. Anders suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"Come here," he told her softly. He helped Sarai to her feet and led her back to his room. "Lie down," he instructed.

Sarai lay on Anders' cot, then curled on her side with a shuddering sigh. There was a draft through the clinic, so Anders shrugged out of his cloak and stretched it over her. Sarai was enveloped with Anders' scent—sweat, magic, and elfroot. She took a deep breath.

"I'm—I'm so sorry. I wish there was something more I could say." Anders sat in the chair by the cot, staring at the back of Sarai's head. He felt a sudden urge to smooth her brown hair.

"I shouldn't have gone, if I had been here..."

"No," Anders said. "This isn't your fault. The Templars could have come for her at any time. They're the ones to blame."

"Mother blames me," Sarai whispered. "I know she does. Just like with Carver."

Anders didn't know what to say to that. Having a family to lay blame or share grief was foreign to him. He sat in silence, watching Sarai's still form, the cloak moving slightly as she breathed.

After a while, Sarai spoke up again. "Anders?"

"Hm?"

She twisted around on the cot so she could see him. "Is she going to be all right?"

Anders sighed. "I... don't know. Kirkwall is one of the worst cities in Thedas to be a mage. And the Gallows—the Knight-Commander's ruthless, turning good mages Tranquil. You saw what they did to Karl."

Sarai's face twisted. Anders continued quickly, "But Bethany's a good mage. Better than that, in fact. She's strong. She won't give in to demons or let Templars intimidate her. She has what a mage needs to survive in the Circle. I'm sure of it."

Sarai nodded. Her face was slack with exhaustion, her eyes still puffy with tears. "Maker, how could this happen?" she murmured.

"It's not your fault," Anders repeated. "It's the Templars, the Circle. They punish us just for being born mages."

"I should have killed them." Sarai's voice took on a forceful note. "Bethany and I, we could have run. I shouldn't have let them take her."

"And leave me here alone?" Anders quipped before he could stop himself. An awkward silence followed, and he kicked himself.

"Anders?" Sarai asked again.

"Yes?" he said softly.

"Don't leave me." She looked up into his eyes. "Promise you won't leave."

Anders' heart beat painfully against his chest. By the Maker, he wanted her so badly. It was more than physical desire—though that was undeniable and becoming harder and harder to ignore. No, it was more than that. She had trusted him; she had come here, of all the places in Kirkwall, to air her grief. He wanted to continue down this road they were on. He wanted to confide in her, to be her confidante. He wanted to share joys and sorrows with her, to trust her, to be close to her. He loved her—but mages weren't allowed to fall in love.

She was still looking up at him, searching his face.

"I won't," he told her. Don't make promises you can't keep, he thought.

She let out a long breath. Pulling his cloak closer around herself, she closed her eyes and slipped into an exhausted sleep.

Anders sank back in his chair. He covered his face with his hands and tried not to groan. How long could he keep this up? To be close to her, to protect her, to want her—and never to have her? Mages weren't allowed to fall in love. He above all wasn't allowed that happiness. He had a purpose in Kirkwall; he and Justice had a task to complete, and after that... well, there was no after that. Sarai Hawke, and his feelings for her, had no place in their plan. How long could he stand it?

For one more night, Anders sat awake, keeping watch over the bright light he had never expected to find in Kirkwall.