Disclaimer: The characters written within this story are purely for fictional use. I do not, nor claim to own any character from the Dragon Age series. They belong to Bioware.

Prologue- Risks

It becomes tradition, until it's not. When throwing one's self into harms way is nothing more than second nature. It's sort of a drug, eliciting emotional responses strong enough to cloud all judgment, all reasoning. And as she settles into it's vastness, there's a moment that no sounds, no sights can interrupt: the moment when she forgets about the things that haunt her most… the way his eyes had gleamed, the way his smile had shined.

But with all things, this will not last.

He enters her room, a bottle of liquor in one hand, two glasses in the other. She stares at him suspiciously.

"I thought you didn't drink." She calls him out.

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders, "I had a feeling…" he says, placing the half-empty glass before her, "… that you might need this." She reluctantly grabs at it, looking down at the amber liquid.

She's done this before…

To the point when the lines between dreams and reality were blurred. Surely, she's not ready to tread down that path again. So instead, she twirls the glass within her hand watching as the vortex takes shape. It occupies her time for just a moment, until he clears his throat.

She stares up at him catching his eyes, the light from the fire masking the true beauty within. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then... we don't talk about it." He answers simply, downing his glass of liquor.

She hates to admit it.

That for the past couple of years, every 14th of March, she has found herself in his company, or his hers. She does not hope for this connection, that she may need or want him. For he adds more conflicting emotions that she wishes to avoid.

She hates to admit that she finds comfort in knowing he's here.

They sit in her room in silence, until the bottle runs dry, and there is nothing left to occupy the time. She's never the first to speak, but that doesn't compel her to not know the direction the conversation will take. And they are past playing coy with one another.

"I'm here for you." It's said in the most sincerest of senses.

She laughs lightly.

How untrue the statement is. No... she thinks back. No one has ever been there for her, especially when it mattered most. Her thoughts drift to those times when she had wished for someone, but was quickly met with disappointment. And for twelve years she had tried her very best, but oh how the children had suffered with no real guidance; disillusioning their lives into thinking everything would be okay, even though she knew hers wasn't/couldn't. Though if anything, no one could discredit her attempts to provide, to protect them. And she did so at any cost... even if it had meant her own life..

...her own happiness.

She's never forgiven him for leaving that day. And no matter how hard she tries, she will never forget, not truly anyway.

Her companion sighs. His arm outstretches until his hand rest gently against her shoulder, neither comforting nor crass. He repeats himself more firmly until it becomes clear within her own consciousness, that he's the only one that's ever tried.

He turns to leave, and it's the hope that he will return again, that will drive her further away.

But today is a day of risks.

If only she knew at that moment, there would be no turning back.

But she can always try and forget.

Now can't she.

A/N: This is the beginning to what I hope to be a long story (more than ten chapters if all goes well). And for anyone confused by the omission of names, have no fear, it is intentional and will be revealed in due time.

This story is based loosely on the events of the DA2 series. Post DA2, were war has riddled across all of Thedas. It will delve primarily in the life of Anders, who in this story is not a mass murderer of innocents, but a Warden mage conflicted by the arising conflicts surrounding the war. That's as much as I can sum up at this point.

Hope you all enjoy!