"Of all the places to live..."

Darktown was far from pleasant; hell, even the alienage of the elves was a step above the rotten-smelling, once-mined areas of what she knew as the Undercity. Lilith Hawke, however, was not above visiting the damp and grimy area of Kirkwall. Champion or not, she was not one to watch the less fortunate

Nose wrinkled as the odor of the slums wafted passed her, Hawke's boots crunched against the gravelly ground of Darktown, the moaning of the injured, the aura of the diseased, doing nothing to phase the apostate. Her staff was slung across her back; perhaps it was foolish of the champion to walk so freely as an apostate, but after the Deep Roads, her rise to wealth and power, she was hardly worried. Not through arrogance, no; the help which she had given Kirkwall as of late should have granted her some sort of clemency, shouldn't it?

Fuck it.

Mages were treated like the scum of the earth as it was, and Kirkwall was no different. Every corner she turned, it seemed a Templar was there to greet her, to clap her in chains should she even think of toeing the line, but Hawke was clever. She was not so reckless as to openly practice her magic, nor foolish enough to partake in the blood magic rituals. Numerous times, she had told Merrill to use caution with her art, and yet...

Soft crying seemed to come from beside her, and bright eyes turned to a young girl, half-hidden and barely older than six, behind crates of once-usable supplied, clutched what seemed to be the tattered remains of a doll. A found marred her features, and looking around, as though to prevent others from picking up on her willingness to help-not that she didn't want to, but she did not have the time-Lilith ducked behind a crate, kneeling upon a knee and gazing at the girl in concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, but the girl did not answer. Instead, a soft cry escaped her, and now as Hawke was closer, she could see a bloodied lip and black eye, as well as several scrapes lining her bare legs. The child was thin, clearly underfed, and reaching out a hand, Lilith gently brushed back a bit of the girl's blonde hair to better see her face.

"Were you mugged?" Again, the little girl did not reply, but rather, she shook her head sadly, causing anger to flicker across Lilith's eyes. A defenseless little girl, left to the mercy of the bastards that roamed Darktown...it was unfair, terrible. She doubted the girl had much to her name, and what she had was in a bad state, as well.

"Come with me," Lilith said, offering a hand as her features warmed. "I know where you can feel better, it's not far." The girl was hesitant, and Hawke could not blame her; friendly faces were not often found in Darktown, that much she had learned when she first visited. But after a moment, the girl took Hawke's hand, and a glimmer of hope seemed to flash in her eyes.

"Thank you..."

Had Hawke not seen her lips move, she would not have heard the girl's quiet thanks, and drawing her from her hiding spot, she guarded the child as they walked on, in the direction of the clinic-the very same that had her coming to Darktown in the first place. It was free and semi-hidden; ran by Anders, an apostate that openly practiced his healing magic, his skills were free of charge to the less fortunate, a quality that Hawke openly admired.

"What's your name?" Again, the girl's voice was quiet, but loud enough so that Lilith would be able to hear and as they neared the clinic, a smile lifted the mage's features when they ascended the final set of steps.

"Lilith Hawke," she answered warmly, poking her head around the door-frame, peeking into the clinic. It was rather empty-a first, in Hawke's experience-and as she led the girl inside, she continued, "but you can just call me Lilith. I've never been one for formalities."

"I'm Nora," she responded, her dark eyes flickering about nervously, inching closer to Lilith at the unfamiliarity of the place. "Are you sure this is where the healer is? I don't see him."

Lilith nodded, casting a warm smile on Nora, leading her to one of the inner beds, away from the entrance and behind a makeshift curtain. "I'm sure," she answered, giving the hand within hers a soft squeeze. "He hardly leaves this place; it'd be a miracle if he wasn't here." After a moment, she turned to the young girl and lifted her onto the bed, setting her gently on end and drawing a curtain to hide her from view. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

Though fearful, Nora nodded, clutching what was left of her doll, her small feet swinging off the edge of the bed. Offering a comforting smile, Hawke slid toward the back of the clinic, to a pair of doors that lead to a smaller room-big enough to fit only a small cot and a writing desk. And slumped over the writing desk was the man she had been looking for.

"Knock, knock~"

Allowing herself inside, there was a groan and a stir from Anders, who dozed away at his desk, arms propping his head up and away from the surface. A hopeless smile crossed her lips, and striding over to the desk, she picked up an inkwell that had been knocked over, wiping away the spilled ink with a dirty rag that had hung from the corner of his chair.

"Anders, wake up, you've got a patient."

Again, he only stirred, mumbling incoherently into his arms. With a sigh, Hawke positioned herself behind his chair, placing her hands on his shoulders and giving him a gentle nudge. It seemed to do the trick, and he jolted upright, shaking his head, blonde hair a bit of a mess.

"Who-Hawke?" Peering over his shoulder, a sigh of relief escaped his lips when he realized who it was that stood beside him, and the woman could only shake her head, attempting to heave him upward out of his seat.

"Yes, Hawke," she teased, giving him a look over. Brows raised as she noticed a smear of ink across his right cheek, and licking her thumb, she made to wipe it away, but Anders stopped her.

"You said I have a patient?" His brows knitted together as he made to walk passed her, still half-dazed and not fully coherent. Of course, she blocked his path stubbornly, forcing her thumb against his cheek, resulting in the ink smearing across his face even more.

"I thought you were asleep," she jested, continuing her attempts of wiping away the ink. "Now you're implying you were awake the whole time?"

Though he swatted at her hand, he relented and allowed her to finish her task without interruption. "I may sleep, but Justice never does." While his demeanor remained serious, Hawke on the other hand, was not, and snorted at his statement, shaking her head as he nose wrinkled.

"Listen to you," she chuckled, her tongue poking out from between her lips. "You tell them. Justice never sleeps! I'll bring peace and order to the free world!" Though he made a noise of derision, there was a slight flicker of amusement that crossed his weary features, and smugness crossed her features, successful in her attempt to amuse him.

"Funny, but you'll not get a laugh out of me, Hawke," he retorted, raising a brow, to which she responded with a laugh of her own. Not that he was more awake, she could tease him as she liked and get the reaction she was looking for.

"Hawke, Hawke, Hawke," she said, her hands resting on her hips, her voice taking a serious tone and her face scrunching in mocked displeasure. "Now's not the time for your shenanigans, Hawke. I'm very busy, I-"

A finger suddenly rested over her lips, and Anders gave her a sharp, half-amused, look, though his lips lifted in a slight grin. "Charming," he said, brow raised, though a moment later, he drew back his hand when she licked it. "Would you prefer 'Lilith'? Is Hawke too formal for you?" His tone was a tad sarcastic, though mirth seemed to be the primary accent in his voice, and she snorted once again, shaking her head.

"A bit," she replied, sticking her tongue out before wrapping her hand around his wrist, dragging him from the room. "Sometimes I forget that I even have a first name. It's always Hawke, with you lot."

He allowed himself to be led along, coming into the main room of the clinic, a half-smile on his lips-until his eyes fell upon the young girl on the bed, alone, scared, and obviously injured. Soon enough, Hawke found herself being led as Anders had sped up his pace, concern replacing his previously amused expression.

Nora watched as the pair came forward, her eyes flickering with slight fear, but relaxing slightly when she looked at Hawke. She offered the girl a smile, releasing Anders' hand slowly, before taking a seat next to Nora, turning her gaze back to the mage before them.

"Is he...?" began Nora, though as he drew nearer, she scooted closer to Hawke, her small hand reaching to grip the woman's upper arm.

"He's a very good friend of mine," she said calmly, glancing from the girl to Anders, a smile on her lips. "His name is Anders, and he can heal you quickly, you don't need to be afraid." Though it seemed to have a positive effect on Nora, the girl still clutched onto Hawke's arm, hiding her face from Anders. Shifting slightly to better look at the girl, Hawke's bright eyes met Nora's dark ones, and she rested her hand on her cheek, keeping her gaze steady.

"He just wants to help, I promise." Nora licked her lips nervously, glancing back at Anders and nodding stiffly, taking a moment to crawl on Hawke's lap. She didn't mind; if it gave the girl any kind of bravery and confidence, she was glad to allow it, and she nodded at Anders, signalling for him to approached.

He knelt before them, placing one hand on the bed to steady himself the other on his chin, glancing over her face. "Can you tell me where it hurts?" Nora remained silent, tilting her head back to glance at Hawke, as though to ask her to tell Anders instead.

"Her legs are scraped up and she has few bruises on her arms, too," she said, jiggling her leg out of habit. "There's a few cuts on her face as well...and I think my cheek could use a little healing as well."

Up until then, he had been listening intently to what Hawke had said, but the moment she finished, his expression turned from concern to mild annoyance, though his lips twitched ever-so-slightly.

"I believe you are just fine, Lilith," he murmured, turning his attention back to Nora, though Hawke could have sworn she saw a smile. "But these leg wounds do look painful." He paused, glancing at the girl, a kind smile lifting his features. "What was your name?"

She glanced at Hawke again, but rather than say anything, she nodded in encouragement for the girl to speak. Frowning, she nodded back, before meeting Anders' gaze, finally, and said in the smallest of voices, "Nora...my name is Nora."

"Nora?" he repeated, and when she nodded, a smile lifted his features. "A pretty name, don't you think, Lilith?" Pleased with his efforts, an appreciative smile was thrown his way when he looked at Hawke, and she nodded, giving the girl a slight squeeze.

"Absolutely," she replied, and Nora, for the first time, smiled around them, and allowed Anders to begin his healing of her. His attention focused on his work, and gently holding one of Nora's small legs in his hand, his other hovered over the wounds, enveloping the cuts in a magical aura. The light of his magic lit his features, and Hawke watched on, gaze more focused on his face than what he did.

It did not take long for Anders to heal Nora's injuries. They were minor, and at the very worst, her scraped knee had a bit of grime in the wound. But aside from that, she was fine, and when he straightened up again, Nora hopped from Hawke's lap and bounded toward him, wrapping her arms around his legs in a tight squeeze.

"Thank you, Anders!" she exclaimed before letting go a moment later and bounding back into Hawke's lap. "And thank you for bringing me here! I need to go find my brother and tell him!"

As Nora bounded toward the door, Hawke rose to her feet, sliding toward Anders, nonchalantly resting her arm on his shoulder, leaning her weight against him. "Thank you, Anders" she said softly, as Nora ran out the door. "She'd just been mugged...poor thing, all on her own. I appreciate you taking the time to do that."

The tips of his ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he shrugged sheepishly, though he still shot a smile toward Hawke, who glanced back at him. "It was a pleasure...you know you can always ask me anything."

There was a pause for a moment as the pair gazed at each other in silence, and after a second, Hawke suddenly grabbed him in a headlock, forcing his head against her chest, a laugh escaping her lips. "You know, I was serious about you 'fixing' my cheek."

Though he struggled to fight her off, his cheeks blazing a dark pink, he finally managed, clutching both her wrists within a hand, using his free one to brush the tip of his index finger against the tip of her nose. "In your dreams, Lilith."

A devilish smirk crossed her features. "I hope that's a promise, Anders~"