"Blondie, you've gotta let it go," Varric thrust a beer at him, sloshing some of it onto the dirty wooden counter, "Hawke's just… pre-occupied."

Anders snatched the beer and took a long drink, swallowing with a sour expression. "With his 'Pirate Queen', no doubt?" Slamming the tankard onto the counter, he pulled two fingers towards him while looking at the barman. "I'm sick of that woman, her and her voluptuous bosom, that Hawke no doubt rests his foul beard in."

Varric laughed heartily, sliding his own glass beside Anders' waiting for a refill. "If you're jealous, I certainly can't tell," he mumbled sarcastically and raised an eyebrow, "Hawke certainly can't."

"Well, Hawke's just a rich moron." Anders snapped, scowling at his fair-haired Dwarf companion. "He cares nothing for me, and why should he? He's got everything he could ever want. The riches, the whore of his dreams; whom I detest in fact, a large estate, the skill, the looks…"

The barman eventually scuttled over and refilled both tankards with the beer they had been drinking for most of the night. Varric had initially invited Anders for a game of cards, but Anders wasn't interested; he just wanted a drink instead.

Taking a long drink, Varric smacked his lips and wiped the froth from his mouth. "I don't know where this is coming from, Blondie," he said quietly, "I never knew you even liked Hawke that much."

Anders picked up his tankard and took a quick drink, then looked at Varric with a pained expression; his eyebrows furrowing together. "I care a great deal for him, in fact. I sometimes," he paused and cleared his throat, "ache for him… It's embarrassing. Though he does not care for my opinion, and would rather side with those damned Templars. He cares nothing for mages. I don't know whether to feel like I should wring his neck or kiss it with heightened passion."

At this, Varric coughed into his tankard, spitting his beer back out. "That's, uh… a little too much information.." hacking, Varric caught his breath and laughed a little. "But, I guess I know what you mean. You've never really seen eye to eye with him, though. So, where exactly did all the lovey-dovey feelings come from?"

"He's always been a good friend," Anders admitted, looking down at his beer. "He's always helped me out with whatever I need. I suppose we even… flirted a little, back when we first met. I don't believe it meant anything to him. Yet even though his sister is a mage, he feels nothing for our plight." He began to shake his head and ran his hand down his face. "What am I to do? I'm going to ruin myself with these childish feelings."

Varric turned to Anders, swivelling on his barstool. "Maybe you should tell him? Ya know, blondie, he might have a soft spot for you," sipping his beer, Varric watched his human friend's face twist with a mix of confusion and thought, "You'll never know 'till you ask."

Anders closed his eyes and shook his head, his chest heaved with a loud sigh. "What a stupid idea. He would simply stroke his beard, throw his head back and laugh at me." Anders mimicked what Hawke would do, bobbing his head and stroking his chin violently, clasping his hands on his belly and chuckling. "A bit like that. Then he'd set his mabari on me and chase me out of the estate." He shook his head again, furrowing his brows. "I would never be able to look him in the eye again."

Varric simply stared at Anders, maintaining eye contact while sipping the last of his beer. "That was a pretty good imitation. Though, even though he doesn't hold mages in any kind of high regard, he wouldn't be so cruel to you," he mumbled, "At least I don't think so."

Anders looked at his tankard, swirling his beer around. Varric knew he was contemplating, and even though it seemed like Anders had balls of steel to stand up for what he believed in, he suddenly turned into a frail mouse when it came to talking about Hawke.

"I just don't know, Varric. My head's telling me that I should leave bloody well alone, because my heart will be broken. But, I suppose it's wor- what in Andraste's name are you staring at?" Anders quipped. Varric's eyes had widened at something over Anders' shoulder. Anders spun around on his stool with record speed. There, in the shabby doorway of The Hanged Man, stood Hawke. He was in light armor, stroking his beard and surveying the room. He'd trimmed his beard and combed his wild black hair a little. He spotted both Anders and Varric and thrust an eager hand in the air and waved.

"For Maker's sake…" Anders whispered under his breath, lowering his head and swigging the beer in his tankard. Varric waved back and whispered an apology under his breath.

"So this is where everyone is. Why wasn't I invited for a drink?" Hawke grinned down at Varric, who laughed half-heartedly at the remark. Anders' expression didn't change, and he continued to look down at his tankard. Lowering his voice, Hawke put a hand over the side of his mouth. "What's wrong with him?"

"Ah, well, he's been taking brooding lessons from Fenris. He's getting very good don't you think?" Varric glanced at Anders out of the corner of his eye, he could see a scowl beginning to knit on his face.

"I see. Well, I don't plan on staying for long. I was actually looking for Isabela." Hawk stated, folding his arms. "You haven't seen her around have you?"

Varric was about to answer when the distinct scrape of a barstool alerted his attention to Anders; he had finished his beer and left the empty glass tankard on the bar. He had his back turned to both Hawke and Varric when he pulled his feather shall over his shoulders. "Farewell Varric, it's gotten awful late." With that, he tried his best not to storm off, yet the dwarf knew that Hawke's inquisition about Isabela had launched Anders into a foul mood.

"What is going on with him?" Hawke spoke aloud, pointing a thumb towards the door that had just been slammed. "Is it something I said?"

Varric looked at his tankard and wrapped the counter with his knuckles. "Another." He turned his gaze to a confused Hawke. "Look, Hawke… I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this, but Anders…" he scratched the back of his neck, "Anders is just not very fond of Isabela. And you." He paused. "Together."

Hawke's face twisted into a slight confusion. "Wh-why? He's… he's not jealous is he?" He sat down in the same barstool that Anders had been using minutes ago and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, I flirted with him a few times, I…" he held a hand out in front of himself and shook his head.

"Well, it's a bit late for the "sorry I led you on" talk. Anders is a powerful man, true to his cause. But Hawke, that doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings. I know you're a very friendly man, but you're a little too friendly." The dwarf put a hand on Hawke's shoulder.

Hawke stared at Varric and slunk his head into his hands. Rubbing his face, he looked towards the barman and sighed. "That's not what I meant. What a fool. I don't regret calling him handsome," he looked at Varric and furrowed his thick brows. "Don't laugh at that."

Varric held his hands up and shrugged. "I don't judge, you fancy whatever you fancy." He put his hands down and cupped his tankard between them. "So, if you don't mind my asking, why are you looking for Isabela? I thought she would have been with you in the estate?"

"You see, that's the problem," Hawke began, looking at the barman who was now cleaning Anders' tankard and had set Hawke down his own tankard of beer. He took a quick swallow and sighed out. "We're… not together anymore. I was only looking for her so I could return some jewellery she left at the estate. She clearly doesn't want what I have to offer, and would rather be pinned only to a ship and crew," he paused and took another drink of beer. "Not to a man like me."

Varric stared at Hawke in contemplation for a moment. "What exactly do you have to offer?" He laughed a little himself, "That wasn't meant to be rude, I need some context."

Hawke opened his mouth and let out an angry sigh. "I wanted to get serious. A little commitment instead of running around chasing her skirt, and bedding her," he paused for a brief moment to look at Varric, "Just making love is boring. Though it was fun at first to court a saucy pirate, she's very promiscuous. Though it may sound ridiculous, I often turned her down simply because doing the same thing over and over is very tiresome, and though it is rewarding, she is very demanding."

"And you broke it off for that reason?" Varric rubbed his chin, interested. "Brave of you."

Hawke threw his head back and laughed, just as Anders had mimicked earlier. "I didn't break it off myself, we mutually agreed that we want different things. Though, it took a lot of arguing on my part. I want a relationship, not just a chance to bed someone over and over with no commitment. She wants the opposite, I believe." Varric watched Hawke as he sipped more of his beer, his expression had saddened greatly.

"It probably wasn't meant to be, Hawke. Don't beat yourself up over it." The dwarf smiled at his companion and sloshed the beer in his tankard and drank it quickly. He smacked his lips again and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Hawke laughed a little, running his finger round the rim of the tankard. "So, about Anders…" he began, raising an eyebrow towards Varric, who had closed his eyes and flared his nostrils.

"Hawke, look, Ander-" Varric opened his eyes and noted that Hawke had raised a hand.

"When we first met, Anders and I flirted a little. I… meant what I said to him back then. I had intentions of pursuing him, but he kept insisting that he would break my heart." Hawke chuckled a little, staring down at his tankard. "I kept insisting that I didn't care; perhaps I might have liked it," he sighed, swallowing his beer. "He was persistent that it shouldn't go any farther, that I would be hurt. I didn't bother arguing, and was actually very disappointed."

Varric straightened in his seat. "So blondie actually was jealous, how about that…" he let out a little laugh, "I didn't know he turned you down."

Hawke scratched the back of his head. "Well, I would never speak of it, it was not my proudest moment. I wouldn't really call it turning me down… more, warning me for my own sake I suppose." Hawke took a large sip of beer and belched loudly. "I'm now obviously irresistible, don't you think?" he said, leaning on the bar with his eyebrows wiggling at Varric; who let out a loud laugh.

"Of course, Hawke, whatever you say," Varric continued chuckling then finished his beer and hopped off his barstool. "May I make a suggestion, though? Go and see blondie. Put his mind at ease." Varric then shrugged and raised an eyebrow, "We don't need him to be any grumpier than he already is. Goodnight, Hawke." With that, Varric spun on his heel and began to head towards his room.

Leaning across the bar, Hawke summoned the barman and handed him a fistful of Isabela's gold jewellery, and made it clear that if all of it was not returned to her that he would personally skewer him with his own daggers. With that, Hawke left The Hanged Man and turned onto the street that would lead him to Dark Town.

Kicking the dirt as he walked, his heart began to flutter. Hawke couldn't deny that Anders' reluctance to court him didn't make him upset, because it did. If it weren't for Anders, he wouldn't have had the maps to the Deep Roads, he wouldn't have been protected by a caring mage. He had pushed his feelings for Anders aside, and had pursued a willing Isabela. Perhaps he wasn't willing to admit that Isabela had been a rebound to get rid of his feelings towards Anders. Despite his desires not being too strong, he was still unable to cope with rejection.

He bid hello to several of Dark Town's residents who were still in the streets after dark. Most were homeless and sick; Hawke would often give them money to take care of themselves, most often out of pure pity. But at the moment, he needed to get to Anders.

On arrival at the clinic, Hawke caught on that the doors were locked, and probably barred. Already anxious, Hawke sucked in a breath and wrapped his knuckles on the right hand door. He wrapped again and again, until he finally got an answer.

"The door is closed, so the clinic is obviously closed. I'm sorry, I cannot treat you unless it's urgent." Anders' voice was far away and sounded dosy, but he was awake at least. Hawke wrapped again; he suspected Anders wouldn't open the door if he claimed it was him. Pressing his ear against the door, he could hear footsteps trodding along the ground angrily towards the entrance of the clinic. Hawke shoved off the door quickly and stood up straight.

"I told you the clin- oh." Anders' eyes narrowed at the sight of Hawke standing there against the darkness. He was wearing a loose fitting white undershirt with short sleeves, along with tight white bottoms; matching pyjamas. Anders put his hand on the door and cleared his throat. "Good Evening, Hawke. Isabela is not here, nor have I seen her this evening. I can see you're not injured, so I bid you farewell." As he was about to close the door, Hawke quickly stuck his boot between the door and the frame.

"Anders, look… Wait, please." Falling against the door, Hawke began to push it open with some difficulty. "Why are you so angry at me? What did I do?"

Anders opened the door widely and allowed Hawke to fall through the doorway. He spun on his heel away from Hawke, then back at him. "No doubt Varric told you of the chat we had?" Scoffing, Anders proceeded to stand over Hawke with his arms crossed. "Of course he would, Varric can't even hold his own water never mind a private conversation."

Hawke gazed up at Anders with a pained expression and helped himself off the ground. Dusting off his knees, Hawke crossed his own arms and let his expression sour. "You took my looking for Isabela out of context, Anders. Then you stormed off for no reason. Of course Varric told me why you left."

Laughing, Anders threw his hands up. "Well excuse me for not being very approving of your romping with your queen of the brigands!" He shook his head and crossed his arms again. "Not like you didn't tell us enough about it, please, tell me why you were looking for her! Another late night romp session I presume? Perhaps she's with another man as we speak!"

With a sigh, Hawke uncrossed his arms and scratched the back of his head. "I was looking for Isabela to return some jewellery," He glanced at Anders and continued, "She's… well, moved out, you see. We're together no longer."

"Oh how unfortunate." Anders spat, still tightly crossing his arms.

Hawke's temper began to flare, as he moved closer to Anders. "Don't you dare act like I'm the one who broke your heart, do not dare, Anders. Did you expect me to be alone until your childish desires finally decided that you wanted me?" Pointing a finger, he jabbed it into Anders' chest. "I thought we could pursue something, yet you blame Justice and your incredible 'inability' to love to say that you would break my heart."

Anders recoiled quickly and pointed his own finger. "Ah yes, you seemed so very concerned when not long after you began chasing Isabela's skirt," poking his finger into Hawke's chest, he edged closer, his brows furrowing. "You moved on very quickly, from trying to pursue my affection to pursuing Isabela's ghastly assets!"

Hawke took a deep breath and slapped Anders' finger away. "How dare you? You left me with barely any choice!" Edging ever closer, Hawke's temper finally snapped. "You rejected me with such speed! I do have feelings and desires myself, Anders. When you refused, I needed something - someone to allow me to love, even to show affection!" Hawke paused and furrowed his brow angrily. "Pardon me for showing genuine interest, then-"

Without another word, Anders had pressed his lips to Hawke's, silencing his rant. Carefully, he slowly began to slide his hands into Hawke's hair, tighter locking their lips together, parting them slightly. Hawke put a moment's thought into pushing Anders away and subjecting him to his own medicine; yet he could no longer think straight as his romantic interests in Anders came flooding back to him. Sliding his arms around Anders' waist, Hawke held him tight in response.

Breathing out and breaking the kiss, Anders' lips parted from Hawke's. "Hawke, I'm sorry, but I did warn you about this," he tried to pull away from Hawke but he held him tighter still.

"And I believe I told you it was worth pursuing. Or do you deny that you want anything to do with me?" Hawke said, holding the mage tightly. Anders's face began to take on a pinkish tint as he denied eye contact with Hawke.

"I… I cannot, I'll break your heart. I'll disappoint you," Anders struggled against Hawke's chest and tried to push away, "Even moreso than before. What will happen when you must decide between me and the Templars? What will you do then, Hawke?"

Hawke's grip loosened on the mage, looking down at his feet. He considered his answer for a moment, then let a breath out of his nose. "You make excuses like a child, Anders. If you truly wish me to forget the whole thing, I will," he held his hands up with a saddened expression. "If it means anything, I would choose you, over any Templar; over Knight-Commander Meredith; over this stupid conflict; over anything. I would – if only you'd let me." Hawke closed his eyes and shook his head. He put his hands down and opened his eyes, feeling the disappointment well up inside him. "I'm sorry to have bothered you – I can show myself out."

Anders simply stood there speechless as he watched Hawke turn around and head for the door that had still remained open during his stay. His emotions were conflicted; he cared for Hawke and wished to be more than simple companions who travelled together occasionally, yet in the long run he did not wish to hurt Hawke or drag him into anything that would endanger his life. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

"Goodnight, Anders. Sleep well." Hawke forced a weak smile and began to close the door. Something inside of Anders felt as if it had snapped and he suddenly launched himself towards the door. Sticking his own foot between the frame, he pulled the door open and tugged at Hawke's sleeve.

"Hawke, if you truly…" Anders sighed, "If you truly wish to pursue something, then please just know this – I do not want you to get hurt, especially if I'm the one that causes it." Pausing, Hawke turned to face Anders. He smiled, and this time it was genuine. "I… I cannot contain my feelings any longer. All these years I've been envious of Isabela, and what a fool I was to turn you down."

"Anders, I'm not going to force you, you know that. Tell me what you truly want, and I will act on it." Hawke had turned around now and had opened the door to Anders' clinic. Anders himself stood there, still clinging to Hawke's sleeve.

"If you would have me, I would glady have you." Anders smiled. He paused for a moment and let his eyes widen. "That's… that's not what I meant. Oh Maker, I-"

Returning the previous encounter, Hawke had moved closer and pressed his lips to Anders'. With a smile, Anders had wrapped his arms around Hawke's neck and pulled him into the clinic, closing the door on his way in.


"So, you're telling me it all worked out in the end, huh blondie?" Varric smiled at his blushing fair-haired friend, sitting in the barstool opposite him. "No more jealousy, or admiration from afar?"

"I feel like a schoolgirl, Varric, like I should be drawing our names in hearts in a love letter to him or something equally as ridiculous," Anders laughed loudly and looked at his tankard. "I still admire him from afar. It is rather laughable."

Looking at the small window on the top of the wall, Anders swallowed the rest of the beer in his tankard and slammed it on the counter with a smile. He pulled on his feather shall and tied the strings in a loose bow. Varric shot him a grin. "Going somewhere, blondie?

"Only to help Hawke move my things into the estate," Anders smiled back at the Dwarf, "See you later, perhaps, perhaps not." And with that, the mage was gone.

Varric smiled at the door after Anders had left and looked into his tankard of beer. "Young love." He shook his head and tipped it back, swallowing the last of his beverage.