Disclaimer: Dragon Age - I don't own any of it. D:

A/N: Thank you to all those who commented, favourited, and alerted. I love you all! *Kisses*

And for all of my Stray readers...I swear I'll update...if it's not up by the end of the weekend, I give you all full rights to tar and feather me.

Healing Hands

He watched her stir in her slumber for some time. Her wounds had been grave, and it had taken a lot out of him to heal her. The hoodlums that had attacked her had used a particularly deadly poison, and if he hadn't been there to intervene right away, she would have most certainly perished. He knelt beside her, placing a cool cloth on her brow. Her limbs jerked from time to time, and he knew she was in the clutches of a fever dream. Occasionally she would murmur nonsense, sputter out names that he didn't recognize. He'd managed to draw most of the poison out of her, but he could still sense non-fatal remnants coursing through her veins. All he could do was wait and perform the occasional healing spell.

He wandered over to the campfire that he'd maintained and stirred the broth that he had prepared. He added some elfroot pulp and catswort, the latter to promote sweating the poison from her system. Once completed, he spooned the broth into a bowl and carried it over to the young woman. He placed a hand behind her neck and gingerly lifted her head, bringing the bowl to her lips. Much to his satisfaction, she sipped at the broth. Soon the bowl was empty, and he left her to sleep off the fever.

He poked at the campfire with a stick, and was busily preparing his own stew when he heard the girl stir and mumble something coherent.

"Who're you?" she slurred. She had propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes glassy with fatigue and sickness.

"Nobody of importance," he replied. "I'm just here to nurse you back to health."

The girl chuckled huskily. It caused a shiver to run down the man's spine. "You're nursing me back to health? That makes you pretty important in my books," she quipped hazily.

One corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk. "I suppose that's true. Very well, you, my dear lady, may call me Anders."

"Anders," she repeated languidly. "Aaaanderssss…it's fun to say. Do you have a last name, Anders?"

"Sadly, no. Just Anders," he replied, his smile widening.

The girl slumped onto her back, obviously having lost what little strength she had. "I suppose I should thank you, Just-Anders."

Anders sauntered over to her, placing a wrist on her forehead to gauge her temperature. "Your fever is going down. Soon I'll be able to use magic to heal you." He awaited the usual horrified screech that typically accompanied such a confession. The girl simply smiled, though her eyes had fallen shut from exhaustion.

"A mage, are you? I should count myself extremely lucky, then," her voice had become thick with sleep. "I promise that I'll find some way of repaying you, ser mage."

As he brushed several braided strands of hair from her forehead, Anders could think of several ways this lovely specimen could show him her gratitude. He pushed those thoughts aside, however, and simply chuckled. "All I ask is that you tell me your name."

"Elissa," the girl murmured sleepily.

The next morning, Anders awoke to find Elissa staring at him pensively.

"Why aren't you in the Tower?" she asked.

He shifted uncomfortably in his bedroll. "I—am on important business. You see, one of the nobles has fallen very ill, and he needs a mage to cure him."

Elissa pushed herself up to a seated position. Her cheeks were still rosy, likely the last remnants from her fever, but her eyes were clear. She was no longer in any danger. "Where does this noble reside that you are set to cure?"

Anders mentally calculated their current location in relation to the nearest populated area. "A place to the north…Highever I believe it's called."

Elissa's eyes darkened. "Highever, is it? And what is the name of the noble you're meant to be helping?"

"I—erm, can't seem to recall…"

"Well then, allow me. Highever is the teyrnir that has been held by the Couslands for…well, let's say a very long time. Only recently, an asp of a man named Howe overthrew the Couslands for his own selfish ambitions. He slaughtered the entire family, save for three. Fergus Cousland, who later perished over the grief of losing his family, Aedan Cousland, who you may know as the Hero of Ferelden, and his twin sister. As far as I know, Highever has no Teyrn, so I'm at a loss as to who it is you're supposed to be healing." Elissa's eyes narrowed accusingly.

Anders' shoulders slumped. "Oh. Truthfully? I'm an apostate. I escaped the Tower a few weeks ago."

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Elissa raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure that would go over well, I tell you that I'm an illegal mage, you get flustered and start screaming bloody murder, and lo and behold, I'm captured by those dastardly templars again." Anders pulled his knees up under his chin.

"You must think me very callous if you think I'd turn you over to the Chantry after you just saved my life," Elissa said softly. "Frankly, I don't understand why they keep you locked up in that Tower. You've committed no crime, at least none that I'm aware of. Why punish someone for being born with a gift?" she sighed. "Sorry, there I go again, off on a political tangent."

Anders listened to her speech, mouth slightly agape. "You're the first person I've met that's had that opinion."

"My father was always been a magic sympathizer, as was my mother. I suppose their ideals were simply passed down to me," she explained.

"You speak of them in the past tense…are they…?"

Elissa nodded. "That whole speech I gave about Highever? It was my family that fell victim to such treachery. I am the last remaining Cousland."

Anders scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowed. "Then shouldn't you be…ruling your teyrnir or whatever you call it? Like a proper noblewoman?"

"Maker's breath, no!" Elissa said with some disdain. "I want nothing to do with politics. Ultimately, I'm traveling to Denerim. I had just planned on having a bit of an adventure on the way, see the lands…explore…I just came from Orzammar, and before that I was studying in Orlais, so it's safe to say that I miss Ferelden very much. I want to enjoy it for as long as possible." Her eyes had grown wistful, and Anders couldn't help but gaze upon her with longing. She was unlike any woman he'd ever met. The mages in the Tower hardly had minds of their own, and those that he'd met during his escape attempts always bore a small amount of fear toward him despite wanting to bed him. This woman…this Elissa Cousland…was refreshing, to say the least.

"Well then, my lady, I will be happy to escort you during your travels," he cast a devilish smile her way.

Elissa's gaze snapped over to him. "What? No! I have no need for company on this trip. I wish to be left alone. Look, I appreciate everything you did for me, and I'll gladly compensate you, but I do not want you following me about."

Anders decided it was time for him to turn on the charm. He cocked an eyebrow and crawled over to her side of the campsite with catlike grace. "And just what sort of compensation are you proposing?"

She turned her gaze back to the fire. "If you come any closer, I shall relieve you of your manhood."

He chuckled. "I expected that…but let's be honest, dear lady. You can't exactly stop me from following you around."

Elissa jerked and gave him an incredulous look. "You can't be serious! You aren't honestly going to follow me about like a puppy, are you?"

Anders shrugged a shoulder. "And why not? I think you'll even come to enjoy my company." He grinned at her lasciviously. "Besides, I may even grow on you."

Elissa rolled her eyes. "What, like an exceptionally bad rash?"

His grin widened. "Something like that."

He watched with some amusement as her jaw clenched out of irritation. He just couldn't help himself, she was so cute when she was angry.