Author notes: So this is my first ill attempt at a fanfic-let's see how I fair. I plan to have it follow the storyline, but have some dialogue varied up/altered.

I.

My eyes skimmed over the letter once more. There was no mistaking it; the handwriting belonged to Karl. I ran my thumb over the curvy, thin letters and let out a soft sigh. "Don't worry, Karl.. I'll be there. I'll be there," I murmured under my breath, reassuring myself; I tucked the letter into to pocket of my coat. Why not strike now, Anders? They won't expect it, the all familiar spirit placed the thought in my mind. I chewed on my lip nervously. As much as I wanted, I knew I wouldn't be able to survive if I attempted to barge in the Circle. No. Karl would have to wait until tonight. I turned slowly to be greeted by my first patient of the day: an elf with cut along his left flank. I attended to him, and many afterwards. Sailors with grotesque rashes, mercenaries with infected wounds, young and old with a cough that wouldn't go… The list had gone on.

As my day neared an end, two people rushed in: an older lady and a middle aged man. Mother and son, I assumed. In the man's arms was a younger boy. The woman attempted to explain, but her voice was thick with emotion. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, held that helplessness that many of my patients and family had. I put a finger to my lips and made a soft 'shh' sound to her. She sniffled loudly and rubbed her nose with her tattered sleeve. Her eyes were staring at me expectantly so I swiftly turned to the man. "Put him there, on that table." I instantly set forth to my task of healing the boy.

I sucked in breath; I could feel my reserves of mana steadily deplete itself. You were the one that wanted to do this, so don't be so weak. His voice was just a whisper in the back of my mind. A reminder, you may call it. I grunted in acknowledgement and kept on my task, forcing my healing magic into the young boy that lay on the table in front of me.

To my relief, his eyebrows twitched. He stirred slightly and his eyes slowly opened, squinting in the light. I withheld my magic and tumbled backwards, feeling feeble and drained of energy. His grandmother clung desperately to her boy as if letting go meant he would die. The middle aged man—the boy's father—helped steady me and mutter many thank you's; I could feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth momentarily before Justice prodded at my mind, Don't be smug, Anders. There are many of them out there and the numbers grow every moment—you haven't even helped a small percentage.

My face regained its melancholy expression. Of course, Justice. The blasted spirit was always right. I rubbed my temples, thanked the refugee, and swiftly pulled away from him, leaning against the wall. I let my forehead press against the dirty walls as I tried to ignore the throbbing headache and aching pain forming in my limbs. I felt Justice prodding at my mind for control while antagonizing me with a speech. Like always. I groaned, sternly thinking 'shut up, Justice.'

—I understand this is right, Anders, but is it really necessary? You are helping no mages by doing this. You are simply healing people that will harm themselves again. You need to focus on your goal. Mages. How many times will I have to tell you? Just let me—I felt my vision blur as he fought for control. I bit my lip and mouthed a few words silently, in attempts to calm him down, but they were worthless attempts.

I heard the refugees cluttered in my clinic mouth a few gasps. "H-Healer! You have a—" one of them stammered.

"Leave, please," I said in a rather irritated tone before they could finish, feeling Justice prod at me. My eyes were starting to burn. I shut them... I heard some footsteps as people shuffled out. I let out an audible groan and felt Justice flare out for only a second before retreating back to my mind. Instead, his voice rumbled, We have guests. Can I trust you to at least handle these three?

I pulled my staff from the wall and spun, taking a defensive stance. Standing in front of me were two humans and a dwarf. I opened my mouth but felt clueless on what to say. They looked rather well equipped and trained in their arts—I doubt I would survive more than several minutes in a fight against them. Fear began to settle in me as I gaped at them with a clueless expression. Justice must have realized that, as he pushed my throat into producing words. "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?" The words felt too foreign and awkward coming out my mouth.

The girl and dwarf seemed to tighten their fingers over their weapons but the man in the middle just waved a hand carelessly, ushering them to put away all hostility. He proceeded to grin and cross his arms, watching me with an inquisitive expression. "Strange occupation for a Warden. Aren't you more about taint and death, not healing and salvation?"

I slowly relaxed my muscles, though Justice kept my brain tense and ready to strike. I couldn't help but knit my eyebrows, returning the man the same inquisitive look he had just given me. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back? I'm not going." I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turned away from the man, staring at the ground as I recalled memories I was not fond of. "Those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot. He hated the Deep Roads."

There was a silence from the three. I'm sure they were exchanging expressions or just deciding what to say. I couldn't help but shift my gaze over to them. The man, who I assumed to be the leader, was just staring at me with a dumbfounded look.

"You…. Had a cat? In the Deep Roads?" was the only thing he managed to ask.

"Ser Pounce-a-lot. He was a gift. A very noble beast." My eyes softened as I recalled fond memories of my precious cat. Those will have to wait for another day. Dispose of our guests now, Anders. He could try asking nicely for once.

The fellow continued to stare at me, as if wondering I was going to say more, but seeing me go silent, he simply shook his head and continued on talking. "I'm part of an expedition into the Deep Roads," he paused, as if deciding carefully what other words to say, "and any information you have could spare people's lives."

I felt my rage flare slightly. "Spare people's lives? Andraste's knickers! Why don't you just stay out of there then? I will die a happy man if I never have to think about the blighted Deep Roads again. You can't imagine what I've been through to get here. I'm not interested…" I paused, chewing on the idea. "Wait, no. Wait, wait." My fingers slipped into my pocket, feeling Karl's letter. "Although, you three look like a capable bunch." I turned to face them, slowly walking towards them. "Favor for a favor? You help me, I help you?"

His two comrades seemed to squirm slightly; he pulled another smirk and raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what the favor is. I don't do anything that involves abusing children or animals," he responded, his eyes having a twinkle.

I gave him a look of disgust. Did he not remember the previously mentioned Ser Pounce-a-lot? Or see the child I was attending to moments prior? But instead of commenting on it, I pushed the comment aside. "Look, I have a couple Warden maps. It, erm, shows the depths in this area. Some entrances. But there's something I need you to help me with, if you want it so bad." Anders, no. Don't involve them in your problems. Just give them the maps, if they are so eager for an early grave. I ignored Justice and instead stammered on, "I.. Came here to help a friend. A mage. He's a prisoner in the wretched Gallows. But the Templars somehow learned of my plans to free him. Help me to safety and you can have the blighted maps."

"Garrett, can we trust him? Do we even know if he has the maps?" the girl spoke softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. I took a closer look at her and couldn't help but feel surprised. Her weapon was a staff. So she was a mage as well? Why didn't I notice that earlier. She leaned towards the leader, whispering something in his ear. The man—Garrett was his name?—drew his mouth into a thin line. And patted her hand.

"Don't worry, he'll better have him or we'll just have to drag him along with us," he said with ease. I glared at him.

"I have the maps. I don't lie, but I won't show them until we help my friend. Understand?"

The dwarf elbowed Garrett. "Hawke, we can't really argue about this. We better help him out. You know we need those maps."

The leader nodded and looked at me, his face turning serious. "Alright, we have a deal. I'll help you out…for those maps."

I nodded, crossing my arms. "Alright then. Tonight. Meet me in front of the chantry. Understand?"

He nodded. The trio left. My eyes lingered on them as they walked up the steps. As soon as they were out of sight, I turned around and sat on my examination table. My eyes traveled to the ceiling as I listened to another one of Justice's lectures. What do you think you're doing? You don't need them, Anders. The more people you get involved with, the more known you are. The more known you are, the more likely Templars will come knocking on your door. You're being reckless now! Utterly foolish! You only need—I closed my eyes and relaxed on the table. I was starting to get use to his banters at this point. For now, I thought loudly to myself in hopes he would heed me, I'll need some rest.