Fenris sat alone, drinking straight out of a wine bottle, staring down at his table. I wanted to go sit with him and make him feel welcome but he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with me or my magic. Plus, I really didn't want to interrupt his brooding session. I sighed deeply and relaxed into the back of my chair. What in the hell did I ever do to normal people to make them hate me so much? Maker knows I've never given anyone, any reason to hate me. I've always used my magic to help people and stayed as far from blood magic as I could.

"Why the long face, Hawke?" Varric's voice brought me out of my inner monologue.

I instantly schooled my features and smiled, "Now, now, Varric. That's your sixth pint. You better slow down or Isabela will end up braiding your chest hair again."

"I think she wants Bianca. Damned pirate," Varric slurred, "Bianca's mine."

I laughed as I stood up, "Sorry to leave out on you and Bianca so soon, but I need to get home."

Varric frowned, "But you only just got here! We need to talk about the expedition, Hawke!"

I waved as I left the Hanged Man, "We'll chat tomorrow, bright and early."

I walked slowly through Lowtown, taking in the cool night breeze. My family and I have only been in Kirkwall for about a month now. Templars constantly watch me as if they can sense my magic. And we all know how much Carver loves to be followed around by Templars. I let out a deep sigh. Why can't they just leave me alone? I know the dangers of being a mage better than they do. My father taught me more than enough to survive and keep demons at bay.

"Hawke! Look out!" a familiar voice yelled from behind me.

I turned around to see what was happening.

"You disgust me, mage," a man dressed in Templar armor said as he thrusted a blade into my ribs. My heart began to race in my chest as he smiled sadistically. I instantly started to see stars and my knees began to shake. A flash of blue was suddenly in front of me pushing me back against a wall. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Dammit. Blades were connecting, but my mind was slowly falling in and out of consciousness. I sat there, against the wall, with my eyes closed. My body was shaking as I felt the pain intensify throughout my stomach. I tried to lift my hands from the ground to heal my wound with magic, but I was too weak. Blood was slowly soaking my shirt and beginning to run down onto my legs. I couldn't use my magic at all, my mind was completely jumbled, making it impossible to focus.

"Why would you do that?" a voice questioned, "What did she do to you?"

"She's a mage. She'll destroy us all," the man that stabbed me retorted.

"Hawke! Are you alright?" I heard another voice call from a distance; Anders?

I heard a grunt and the familiar voice said, "You're disgusting."

I looked up and saw Fenris with his hand phasing through the Templar.

"No," the Templar choked out, "What's disgusting is allowing her to live."

"It's me, Hawke." Anders whispered, "What happened?" He brushed the hair from my face, "Come on, Hawke. Speak to me."

"I-" I tried to gather enough strength to get up, "I don't-," but I fell back against the wall.

Fenris tossed the man's body onto the floor and quickly ran over to me, "Are you-" he looked down to see the knife in my ribs, "She needs help."

"I'll take her to my clinic," Anders said quickly trying to wrap his arms around me.

"No! I'll take her," Fenris pushed Anders out the way, "You and that demon stay away from her."

In a swift motion I was in the air, cradled in strong arms, "Put me," I paused and inhaled deeply, "down."

Everything faded to black while Fenris ran through Lowtown, Anders close behind.

I awoke with the sound of Carver arguing with someone.

"What do you mean, someone stabbed her?" Carver yelled, "What did she do?" I turned my head enough to see Carver and Fenris arguing.

"Stop," I mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Fenris' said sarcastically, "I was too busy killing him to get any answers."

"Can you two take this outside? I need to concentrate," Anders called over to the two men. I could feel his cool hands on my skin, trying to stop the blood, "I'm going to pull the knife out and try to close the wound, hold still."

I tried to wiggle my way out of his grasp, "Stop."

"Stop moving, Hawke. I need to heal this before it gets any worse." He tried gripping me tighter, "You've lost a good amount of blood."

"No," I pleaded, "Let me-"

"What are you going on about, Hawke?" Fenris asked me, confused and curious.

"She has an issue with other people's magic uses," Carver huffed.

I nodded, "I need lyrium. I can heal it myself."

"I don't have any of that crap here," Anders said calmly, "Just let me do it really quickly, I have enough strength to do it."

"No." I said sternly, "I'd rather die."

Fenris sighed dramatically, "Just use me."

He walked over to me quickly, carefully gauging my reaction.

I looked down at the knife in my ribs, "Can you-?"

Fenris nodded and reached down to the knife, "Ready?"

I nodded and tensed up. Bracing for the pain, I grabbed onto Fenris' hand.

The action surprised Fenris, which caused him to yank the knife out of my flesh without warning. I screamed, surprised.

"OK, that's done." Fenris spoke softly, "Sorry."

I gave him a small, weak smile as I used the lyrium in his body to heal myself. Anders began to clean the blood off of my skin when Fenris grabbed onto his wrist.

"Can I help you?" Anders asked sarcastically.

"I'll do it." Fenris responded matter-of-factly.

Anders huffed, "Ridiculous," and dropped the rag he was using. He quickly stormed out of his clinic. Fenris picked up the rag and continued where Anders had left off.

Carver had already headed back to The Hanged Man to tell everyone the juicy gossip. He was probably a little too excited about almost losing his last sibling. I rolled my eyes at the thought, as if he could take care of himself. He'd be dead within a week. Fenris just stood over me, calmly, cleaning up the blood. A few minutes of awkward silence preceded that moment, but I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Why?" I asked, still too weak for full sentences.

Fenris looked shocked, "Why what?"

I put my hand over my stomach and carefully anchored myself into an upright position, "Why did he try to kill me?"

Fenris shook his head, "I have no idea."

Tears welled up in my eyes, "You're lying. I heard what he said."

Fenris dropped his rag on the floor and took both my hands in his, "He's wrong."

He quickly let go and looked down at the ground. I had gotten my answer, even if I didn't want to hear it. Is it too much to have hoped that I could live an ordinary life here in Kirkwall? I just want to be normal. I cannot help that I was born a mage, and I'm just trying to make the best of the lot that I was given.

I sighed, "He's not wrong."

Fenris looked up at me, curious, "Wha-?"

I cut him off, "Mages are dangerous. Take Anders, or Merrill, for an example." I paused for a moment, "We do have the means to destroy. But what ordinary people don't understand is that not all mages are the same. Believe it or not, some of us don't want to be abominations or blood mages. We just want to be normal people. With normal lives and problems."

Fenris smiled, "I think that is the first time I've ever heard a mage say anything like that."

"You should have met my father. He was everything that a good mage should be." I smiled at the thought, "And he taught me everything I know."

"A good mage." Fenris seemed to be pondering the very notion.

"Yes, I'm sure you disagree."

"No!" Fenris quickly responded, "That's why I offered my markings for you to use."

Confused, I looked down at his arm. Lyrium had been embedded into his skin by his old master. I still wondered why his master did that, but I never felt the need to pry.

"I don't understand, Fenris."

"Magisters, mages, will always choose power," he paused and lifted my chin up so I had to look him in the eyes, "but you didn't. You had no notion to use any kind of blood magic, even though you were covered with blood. You never summoned up any demons to attack the Templar, you just took it. Allowed it to happen. I always thought mages would go to dark places when faced with death, but you didn't."

I smiled, "Oh."

Fenris released my chin and whispered, "Everything I ever thought about mages, you proved me wrong. And I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For ever doubting you, Hawke."

I smiled, "Well," I poked his chest with my index finger, "Don't you do it again."

He chuckled and said, "I won't ever underestimate you again."

"Well," I sighed, and slowly stood up off the bed, "Feel like helping me get to the Hanged Man? I could use a drink after all that."

"Of course."