Though he had traveled all through the night, he wasn't the least bit tired. At least, not in his head. His eyelids struggled to stay awake, but within his pupils was a fiery determination. After all that has transpired over the last few weeks, Anders would never had guessed he would be back in Amaranthine, but he also didn't guess he would've blown up the chantry, befriended the Champion Of Kirkwall, or, among other things, even be alive.

But here he was.

As he came to the entrance of Amaranthine, he noticed a small sense of bittersweet familiarity. It was here, over seven years ago, he had stood with the commander of the Grey, and fended off what was left of the darkspawn. Amaranthine itself was much like it was before, though the city walls had been remodeled, and a new section of housing was added.

Walking into the city, Anders was reminded of Hawke, who, for the past seven years, was the only real person Anders could call a friend. Hawke had been determined and always successful, whether it was saving Kirkwall from the Qunari, or stopping Meredith and standing up for mages everywhere.

Hawke's actions in Kirkwall were hardly irrelevant in Ferelden, with reports of mage outbreaks, rebellions, and uprisings scattered throughout the lands. All out war was inevitable, and soon enough, the Templars would be forced to hold the line, or attempt to, against the mages.

And Anders fully planned to be on the frontlines.

Despising the way mages are treated was an understatement, and it was all the fuel Justice needed to be turned into Vengeance, the hatred inside him, literally burning to break free when any mention of Templars was made to Anders.

But none of that mattered right now. Not the hatred, not the templars, not the mages.

Anders marched into Amaranthine past the guards, and headed toward a very familiar house. It was a very uncomfortable day when Anders was here last, but he had sworn that if he was free, he would return. After being forced to leave Hawke's side, Anders knew he had to come back for him.

Marching right into the front door, a family sitting down at dinner stood up, shocked that a man would do such a thing. But the daughter, a young mage in her late '20s, recognized Anders, and her eyebrows raised. Obviously, she had never expected to see the man again.

"Anders!" She shouted, following him as he headed to the back. "What are you-"

Anders opened the back door, and after spotting him, he scooped him up in his arms and hugged him, before turning to face the young girl.

"Taking back my cat."

Anders held Ser Pounce-A-Lot with joy. On his journey, he had expected the worst. The cat had escaped, or died, or forgotten about Anders. But after seven years, Ser Pounce-A-Lot was alive, and certainly no longer a kitty, but a healthy, full-grown cat.

"Who's the pretty kit-, I mean cat?" Anders asked, smiling.

"Meow!" Ser Pounce-A-Lot responded in a very excited tone.

"That's right!" Anders said, before proceeding to spend the entire day playing, napping, and catching up with Ser Pounce-A-Lot. The two had missed each other, and being reunited was a great day, indeed. Anders thanked the family that he had left his kitty with, and proceeded to exit Amaranthine, only this time, with a cat in his pack.

"Meow!"

Anders smirked. "Ah, it's good to have a friend again."