*My first fanfic lol don't kill me PLEASE!

*Sadly no I don't own Dragon Age or any of it's characters...but If i had a time machine I definitely would ;)

Her merry band of misfits sat around their usual table at the Hanged Man.

Isabela, the sultry Rivaini, only half dressed as always was seated across her. She had taken off her boots in an attempt to get the attention of every man in the place, no doubt. Hawke inwardly chuckled as she remembered the first time she had encountered the damned pirate. A woman able to handle three men by herself was a woman that she could respect. And then, Isabela opened her mouth, and Hawke knew their friendship would be tested.

Then there was the damned dwarf. She inwardly suspected he had payed the man to steal her coin bag the very day she met him. The dwarf had been her white knight….MINIATURE white knight, but her knight all the same….and this was what she hated the most. Hawke didn't like to be rescued. She didn't need it. She was strong and could have very well caught the blighted fool but noooo! Stupid dwarf had gotten there first. Now there was no way she could disrespect this half man. (of course she would never call him that to his face because underneath it all he was more man than most men she knew…but what of his private parts she wondered…no no no let's not think of that…damned pirate)

Anders caught her attention as he lightly touched her thigh. She couldn't help but remember the first time she had met him too. She loved healers, thought that they were angels on earth. Anyone willing to surround themselves in pain and loss was an angel in her book. She saw the cool blue light emanating from his hands as he healed the lying woman on the cot. Her parents worried awaiting her fate. She couldn't help but instantly like this man. Men with ponytails…what can she say? She always had a thing for men with long hair. She couldn't help but wonder how the hair would feel as he was on top enjoying her … DAMN! Blasted Isabela what have you done to me?

"I'm sorry," Anders leaned in to whisper in her ear. The apologies that followed every single one of his "accidental" touches were more of a reassurance that Hawke didn't mind his particular touch that day.

"It's fine Anders" Hawke heard herself say. But it wasn't fine, not really. He kept trying to find any excuse to touch her, and she didn't like it. Not one bit! Although, she did enjoy it.

"Hawke?" Bethany's voice came out half scared.

"Bethany?" Hawke stood up walking quickly over to her. "I've told you not to come here"

"But you come here!"

"So?" Hawke's voice held nothing more than irritation.

"So…I won't leave if you don't!" Hawke grunted in frustration. She knew her sister wasn't little anymore, but there was something about this group of friends that made her wary. Isabela would surely put ideas in Bethany's head just like she'd done to Hawke herself. Anders might get attracted to her too, and slip in those random touches.

"Then we're leaving," Hawke said determinedly.

They walked through the crowded street back to Gamlen's place. Bethany was mad. Inquiring why Hawke was the only one able to have friends. Hawke explained to her that these weren't her friends, they were just a means to an end. A way to reach the deep roads.

"What of Aveline? Isn't she your friend?"

"Yes you fool. You can hang out with her if you want."

"But she's no fun. Not like Isabela is." Hawke grunted. Bethany knew better than to inquire anymore.

Bethany stopped to peruse some of the wares in a little stall. Hawke wanted nothing else but to get home and take a long bath. The pirate had taken them to find some blighted treasure. It had turned into a wild goose chase filled with countless of armed men. She had washed herself in Varric's room as best she could, but the blood that she missed under her armor was now dry and uncomfortable. She was about to scream at Bethany to hurry up when she saw her entranced by a necklace that was far beyond their price range. Hawke didn't like emotions. They make you weak. Lately, she realized they seemed to come as natural as breathing to her. She walked away from Bethany. Sitting on the steps of a worn down house. The inward battle of stopping the tears was about to be lost. Hawke was suppose to take care of Bethany, but knew she wasn't achieving this. She was pushing Beth away; hate and rancor surely rising within Beth. They had always been close, but now she feared that their relationship was too weak. Now that she wouldn't let Bethany be a part of the band of misfits.

She felt eyes on her. The type of feeling that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. Hawke looked back to where Bethany was (for it was surely Beth that was staring). She found Bethany was no longer at the stall. In a second, she was up, ready to fight anyone that dared touch her baby sister. Then, she noticed Bethany was in another stall still looking for something to buy. Hawke sighed and relaxed, but it didn't take long for that feeling to come again. She was being watched but by who? Hawke scanned the crowd looking at the people desperate to sell things to provide for their family or their habits. She felt that same sadness arise within her. The constant battle that we fought to stay alive...to eat...all was ruled by how much coin you owned. All were too busy trying to get the attention of potential buyers to look at her. No, whoever it is isn't in the crowd. Her eyes began to rise up when...

"Come on Hawke let's go home" Bethany grabbed her arm and closed her hand over Hawke's. The action shocked Hawke. Bethany hadn't held her hand like this in a long time. She entangled her fingers with Hawke's own fingers. Why was she doing this? Hawke knew better than to ask. Instead she decided to follow her sister in silence, enjoying the unity between them. Following her sister to their uncle's house, she had forgotten the eyes that were on her.

In the distance a white haired elf didn't know why he stopped walking on the roof. He didn't know why he stared at that woman. She had been standing next to a stall in her black leather armor. Kicking the dirt with her feet. There was nothing unusual about her really. Except maybe her height. She was tall, about 6 feet. He saw her body was muscular. Not overly manly but not necessarily slim and little like most of the woman he had seen in Kirkwall. The small double blades on her back meant she was a fighter. That explains the body. Her wavy dark hair dancing with the wind. He noticed her walk over and sit down on the steps. Her hands glided over her face...blocking it from view. Move your hands. He didn't want to admit it, but he wanted to look at her. Then, he saw her sprint to life looking for someone. Who it was, he didn't know, but at least he was able to observe her face. He saw her full pink lips…she was biting her lower one lightly. What are you worried about? He saw her round eyes..her small nose…her fair complexion. Then another woman had led her away. He fought against himself to follow. A grunt escaped him You're an Idiot! Find Anso. She means nothing.