Hope you enjoy, as usual, guys. :) The Hawke in this story is featured in my other DA:2 fic 'I Daresay, Party!', a comedic/romantic fic with an AndersxFem!Hawke pairing as shown here. Please review, cause, if the response here is good, I have other more serious fics planned with Anders and Fenris with Fem!Hawke.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragon Age 2 or any affliated franchises. The glorious game we all love is owned by Bioware, which I am rather happy about, if I do say so myself! :D

It was a strange day.

The atmosphere was pulled taut, and there was an extreme, unnerving tenseness in everyone. Usually when Anders walked through Lowtown market, there was an inimitable liveliness and bustle – however, today, there was a heavy air that slumped the shoulders of all he passed. Hundreds of pairs of eyes shifted away from his own curious gaze, falling to determinedly bore into the floor. Frowns etched even deeper into the already profound creases of worry indented into people's faces. It was never a good sign if even the town whore could not summon enough false cheer to ring out into the street at potential johns, instead giving up and pulling her rags tighter around herself, mumbling unhappily about the cold and bizarre nature of the day to any she passed.

Anders sat in the Hanged Man, by the ubiquitous Varric and the ever-popular Isabela as they played a game of Wicked Grace whilst flinging down Orzammar ale despite it being the middle of the day, pondering on what was so wrong. In spite of it being stifling hot in the small, cramped pub, which was filled with people who were trying to escape the sharp winter chill of outside by piling in far earlier than they normally would, Anders felt a coolness in him, a peculiar and unwanted tightening of his senses.

Even Isabela, who usually paid no heed to much outside of her immediate pleasure or potential night-time prey for her lust, was affected, it seemed, as she wondered aloud, "What's wrong with everyone today?" She slapped down a card onto the table, knocking the side of her drink in the process, before continuing, "They all seem so…" She trailed off, focussing on the card she had just placed down, frowning in displeasure.

Varric, too, was disturbed. Dextrously flicking out a card, he said, "I know what you mean; every person I've seen today looks like they drank Marbari piss for their breakfast."

Laughing at this, Isabella nodded, adding, "Or maybe dragon shit. Remember that time we fought one of those gigantic bastards, and Hawke ended up in a pile of its waste? She couldn't wash out the smell for weeks – and she said it tasted bloody awful!" She snorted in amusement, "I can imagine it did!"

Varric chuckled as he recalled the story, having been there to witness the horrendous event when it took place, remembering clearly Hawke shaking herself down like a dog might do after going for a swim, a repulsive brown tinge to all of her clothes as she yelled, horrified, 'I ATE SHIT. I. JUST. ATE. FUCKING. SHIIIIIIT.'

After taking another shot of the game she could now play quite above adequecy with her eyes closed, Isabela looked to Anders, catching his attention, "What's got you down, then, Anders? You look just as bad as everybody else here does."

Instead of grumbling an sardonic 'thanks' as he might have usually, Anders remained silent. Isabela shrugged and returned to her game, whilst Varric took a shot at cheering up the mage, bending the cards forward into himself so that the wily pirate before him would not sneak a glance, "She's right, Blondie. I'll get you an ale." The dwarf leisurely gulped down the rest of his own tankard, casually placing down his last card and grinning as he declared, "Full house," pulled forth all of the now furious Isabela's pile of gold towards him, picked up a shiny sovereign and strolled over to the bar.

Moaning loudly, Isabela kicked the side of Varric's chair before throwing her legs up onto it. Scowling, she sighed in defeat, mumbling, "Damned dwarf beating me at my own game.". After a moment of nothing, however, she took a careful glance at Varric's back, swiftly plucked up a couple of pieces of gold, and shoved them into her brassiere with a practiced turn of the hand. Smirking, she nonchalantly adjusted her top, patting it down to loosen any conspicuous lumps of money, and finally placed her arms behind her head, rocking her chair happily in triumph. Anders watched the exchange between her top and Varric's gold without much interest, still stuck in his own thoughts.

Varric turned back around, placed a frothy amber ale down in front of Anders, another before Isabela, and kept the last in his own hand. Sitting back down as Isabela moved her legs away for him, he took a long, fulfilled sip before bringing the tankard back down to sit on the table. Smacking his lips in satisfation, he drawled, grinning as usual, "I expect you to be putting those back, Bandana."

Sucking in an abrupt gulp of air, Isabela swore, though not in a bad temper. She laughed, shrugged, and reached unabashedly into her top, digging out the smothered sovereigns and letting them roll out onto the table. Following a minute or so of this, Varric chuckling all the while, she stopped and gestured to the coins in a clear indication of finality. Giving her one last studious skim over her face, Varric smiled and sat back, going back to his drink, tiny legs propped up before him. Isabela glanced at the man, checking to see his focus was momentarily on his tankard, then caught Anders eye, reached down to her chest and conspiratorily flashed him a glimpse of one last hidden coin, winking.

A while passed with them sitting there, drinking in silence, Varric remaining surprisingly quiet along with Isabela, as both were obviously fixed in deep considerations – Varric was likely thinking on a piece of gossip he had heard or invented about one of their group, and Isabela was probably trying to remember what blonde she had been with the night before.

Draining the last of her ale, Isabela wiped her mouth and stood, stretching her arms over her head, proud chest jutting out before her as she spoke, "Alright; I'm going to go shopping. See you later, you two – try not to get too out of control, you wild, crazy fool, Anders." She smiled in tease with Varric and turned to the door, strolling unhurriedly forward. Anders even cracked a small grin, if only because that sounded like something Hawke would say to try and cheer him up.

Facing the mage again, Varric allowed his legs to fall back down to the floor, and opened his mouth, eyes glinting as he prepared to tell a story. He got to say, "So; let me tell you about this quest Hawke and I went on without you," before he was abruptly interrupted by a thunderous crash and a surprised cry from Isabela.

"Kitten?"

Heads whipped around to look at the gaping door as it flailed in the strong Winter wind, snow roaring in from the ashen outdoor world, where Merrill suddenly stood, gasping desperately, cheeks flaming red from exhaustion and clothes flying undone about her. Anders stood in alarm with Varric, not at seeing her in so much dishevelment – he had seen her in far worse shape since they had both joined Hawke and their ragtag group for adventures in danger – but at the look in her wide, doe-like eyes. There was one unadulterated, pure emotion that saturated her gaze, only one.

Fear.

She panted frantically, hands imprisoning the door frame in a death grip, and hunched over as she tried to regain control of her breathing, desperate to speak. Isabela, displaying a rare showcase of concern, gently took hold of the elf, allowing the dainty girl to fall into her grasp, softly mumbling words of comfort. However, the frightened elf, instead of calming down, yelled, arms flying onto the pirate, seizing hold of her front, screaming out, "Hawke! Hawke! They've got Hawke!"

Anders strode forward immediately to the side of the girl as she wheezed, panicking, terrified out of her wits, unsteadily repeating over and over again what she had just said. The room began to mumble in unease, the tension of the day boiling over to the present.

Hands patting Merrill's back, Varric softly but firmly urged her on, saying, "Come on, Daisy, it's okay. Come on."

Coughing, she spluttered out, tears running in thick rivulets down her delicate face, "Hightown, they got her there, we were walking, going, going somewhere, Sebastian shouted something, and it all, all of it, all-" She gasped before continuing, "They grabbed her, right out of the street, took her, she screamed, and we-" She sobbed, "They got Hawke. The Templars."

The pub went deathly silent.

Anders felt his face drain of all colour. Nausea overpowered him. It took all of his self-will not to vomit right there on the floor. Varric and Isabela exchanged a startled glance. Varric's hands tightened into fists. Isabela's arms clenched taut. They both softly let Merrill stand away from them slightly, supporting her gently by her arms as she tried to straighten back up.

Isabela looked straight into Merrill's fraught gaze and asked her, voice staying level only due to practice under pressure, "Where is she, Merrill?"

Merrill's lip trembled as she shakily answered, magic flaring at her hands in distress, "We don't know." Isabela's eyes widened as she coninued, "We don't know. Aveline tried to get her back, but we were out cold. We don't know."

"Shit." The pirate closed her eyes, scowling. No sound was made for a few minutes, as the four who stood at the still wildly gaping door remained where they were, frantically thinking of where she could be.

Finally, without a word, Anders walked back over to their table and picked up his staff. Staring intensely at the other three, he strode out. Instantly, they followed, immediately arranging themselves around him, drawing their weapons, setting into a desperate run. They stayed silent.

Anders fought internally, his thoughts panicked and jumbled. Justice attacked the fringes of his mind, and he fought, madly trying to keep a steady head, struggling to not give in to the overwhelming anger at Hawke's capture.

They dare take Hawke? They dare?

No, not now. Not. Now. I need to think. Where—

-I will slaughter every one of them. None will live. None. They dare? They dare?

Not now. Not until we find Hawke.

Varric's worried voice reached his ears, "Where are we going, Anders?"

Instantaneously, Anders answered, "To Meredith."

Not now. We'll find Hawke.

And then we'll kill them all.

Couple more chapters for this in the work. This should be a reasonable-sized fic - probably three to four chaps, all far longer than this first one, of course. Since this is just the first chapter, it is a way shorter than the rest. Next chap coming soon! Hope you enjoyed this first instalment. :) Tell me what you thought, if you have the time. :3

See you next chapter, guys! :D