Chapter 1
That Side of Me
Hawke didn't allow herself to pause when making her way through Darktown towards Anders' clinic, knowing that if she did, it would be so much harder to have the conversation she felt was long overdue. Their friendship had been easy and almost immediate. They were of the same breed and spoke the same language. As one of the medical profession he was endlessly helpful as a fighting companion and his light hearted sarcastic humour was always welcome at the bar table. As a result there was never any reason for them to be apart for any length of time. Hawke had gotten to know him as a man of three parts.
She was greeted by the first part as she strode across the straw floor of the clinic. Anders was talking to a small mousy woman with a smiling sunny voice, instructing her on the taking of a potion. She was nodding gratefully, easily handing over a small sum for the cure – which he politely refused – and they parted in a flurry of farewells. It was only Anders who could make a patient feel so care free about being ill. This was Anders the Healer, a handsome charming man with a young smiling face and eyes that were warm and caring.
"Arrianna." He grinned, clasping her small hand in his two large ones in what looked like a handshake but felt more like an embrace. He looked her over, scanning her intact robes. "I hope you're visiting me for pleasure and not in need. I know you are not exactly the diplomat." His lips curled in an easy laugh and she felt his charm and influence like a balm.
"You know I would never visit you for pleasure. Your company is grating."
He grimaced and clutched his heart in a feigned show of injury. "You wound me, Arri. I shall cry myself to sleep tonight."
She snickered, taking her hand back and looking around. "I don't see any patients. Was she your last one?"
He nodded. "I will not be seeing anyone else today. I've been having a few sleepless nights and don't want it to interfere with my work. I've been thinking of taking a break." He said this so casually, she couldn't help wondering if he had rehearsed the sentence. It was obvious he didn't want the matter pursued, so she let it go, leaning against the wall of the clinic. Her foot knocked over a clay bowl, which tipped and spilt a fair bit of milk over the straw.
"I've been putting out milk," he explained in response to her curious look. "I miss having a cat around." Ser Pounce-a-lot had been Anders' furry companion before his superiors had forbidden it. It did not do to look soft and cuddly in front of one's fellows. Hawke smiled at his silly indulgence, but inside her, a worried voice nagged and complained. Warrior mages don't keep cats, Hawke. Furry animals are the pleasure of women and… She stifled her panicky thoughts and brought herself under control. Now was not the time to doubt her intent.
"But I think the refugees have scared them all off," he continued, wrinkling his nose. "Or maybe eaten them…" His face grew serious and he took a step towards her, testing the ground. For a moment, she thought he was going to begin her conversation for her, but he only gave her a frank look and said "You know… I've been meaning to thank you… Having someone like you making a name for yourself in Kirkwall, it's done a lot for mages."
It was true. Her reputation as a trustworthy mage was spreading. It was nice to see her fellow mages being treated with a little more dignity and grudging respect by the Templars around the city. But she wouldn't say it was all her doing either. There was only so long a man could hate and fear something for no good reason. She was just helping things along.
"You're the kind of leader we need," he stated with pride, "to tell the world we won't be punished any longer for our Maker-given gifts."
This was Anders the Revolutionary. Hawke felt a flush stroke her cheeks. She loved it when he talked like this, like an old freedom fighter from a forgotten storybook. She couldn't help but feel empowered by his words, like it was possible to take on the Templars single-handedly and succeed. "Oh I love it when you go all hot-headed revolutionary," she giggled before she could stop herself. It was timed just right, the tone just innocent enough to convey exactly what she meant. He couldn't miss such an obvious hint.
He sighed heavily, his face hardening. "I've tried to hold back," he said, his voice still warm but with a stroke of warning. "You saw what I almost did to that girl," He was talking about a particularly bad fight over a mage with a Templar. It was one of the few times Hawke had ever seen the third and final part of Anders. She didn't want to think about it.
"You've seen what I am." He paused, looking at her, his face a little softer and his voice full of something stronger. His eyes locked on hers. "But I'm still a man. You can't tease me like this and expect me to resist forever."
She looked right back at him, serious now and her voice low and heavy with implication. "I don't want you to resist."
His mouth met hers in a hard embrace. His breath was hot and his usually warm, caring hands were clutching her sides painfully. He was like fire, and the burning throbbed and tingled in her stomach, her lips sore and weak against his insistent kiss. He pressed her against him, his breath escaping his lips in a stifled grunt. She suddenly felt feverish.
They parted almost as suddenly as they had merged. She was breathing hard and he stepped back, almost apologetic, his lips parted slightly as if he couldn't really believe he had just done that. The outburst of passion had left Hawke feeling numb and shaky, like sunstroke. Yes, he was a man, a man that craved to be against her, to be gripping her hips and consuming her lips. All thoughts of doubt and indecision left her, but Anders looked confused, scared even.
"This will be a disaster. But I can't live without it," his voice tinged with longing. "We could die tomorrow. I don't want it to be before I tell you how I feel."
"I've never felt this way about anyone…" Even before they were out her mouth, she realised how silly the words sounded. They seemed like the right thing to say, but now that she had said them, they rang false. She thought of moonlight and cold hard steel. But steel bit and hurt. The sun would keep her warm, would shelter her from the darkness. She needed him to believe her. She was not lying to him, really. She was scared of the dark and the cold and the white moonlight was so indifferent. The wolf would eat her as soon as love her. The moon was complex and half-hidden in shadow, but the sun was warm and never hidden. The sun was so strong that it shone through clouds and destroyed darkness. Her love was real, but she had to keep the dark side of her heart secret, or the sun's rays would burn her as sure as hellfire. Justice would be brought down upon her if she wronged him.
He didn't seem to notice the struggle behind her eyes. "I thought with Justice this part of me was over. I can't give you a normal life. If you're with me, we'll be hunted, hated. The whole world will be against us." He stopped, looking at her as if scared she'd run away. "If your door is open tonight, I will come to you. If not… I'll know you took my warning at last." He turned away from her, stooping to mop up the spilt milk with a rag – making it quite clear that their conversation was over.
She left the clinic happy, a warm weight on her heart. Despite his dark conclusion, she knew that Anders would come. More than that, she understood that his love for her was as warm and kind as sunlight, and as powerful and reckless as fire. It was not just guesswork anymore, no longer a possibility in the wind, but a fact; as sure as each night dawns a bright new day. Now she had a reason to win every fight apart from the money and the selfish act of living for herself. Now she would return to her bed not exhausted and alone, but content and surrounded by his caring arms. It was a nice feeling to know that she had his love, his heart under her control. He was a firm foundation, a rock on which to build any endeavour or future project. With him by her side, she could not fail.
XXX
Hawke was aware she was being followed while she browsed for robes in Hightown. Her shadow was keeping a respectable distance while in this public square, but she couldn't help but notice his disinterest in the wares, his glancing from side to side and occasionally in her direction. He seemed as if he were waiting for someone. Deciding to confront him, Hawke headed swiftly down an alleyway – or rather it was a simple divide between two mansions, no street in High Town was degenerate enough to be called an alley – and waited for him to make a more definite appearance.
"I got your letter." It was a statement, not an invitation for him to speak or explain. He was tall and thin and compact, his hood not quite fitting his head due to the long slender ears on either side of wide orb like eyes. "I would only do this sort of job for a mage or for a lot of coin. Which is it going to be?"
Without speaking, her shadow produced a small purse and laid it in her hand. Despite its size it was surprisingly heavy. Hawke emptied it out onto her hand, revealing the shimmer of five gold sovereigns. Trying to ignore the implications of an elf in a cloak that was both ragged and far too big for him owning so much money, she nodded, gesturing for him to start speaking.
"I have a friend…" he stopped, seeming to struggle with the common tongue. Hawke recognised the sing song accent of the Dalish. Smiling, she shook her head and answered in his own language. "Lots of people have friends, serah. You'll have to give me more information than that."
He looked relieved. "I have a friend who's disappeared and hasn't returned for some time. I hear you're good at finding people."
"Where did you last see him? Do you have any idea where he might be now?"
"She." He corrected her with a slight flush and a bow. "I last saw her over a week ago. She told me that she was seeing someone." He grew ever more uncomfortable. "That she had to go talk to him at the Crossroads."
"Which crossroads?"
"The Spirit Crossroads."
Hawke gave him a confused look. "The Spirit Crossroads…? I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with that name. Where is it?"
"A day's ride north of the Dalish settlement."
"Why don't you do there yourself?"
"My people are forbidden to go there," he explained as though talking to an infant. "It's the place where our ancient ancestors used to commune with spirits and demons alike. It is a place where the fabric of the veil is frayed." He shrugged off the sentence as if it were irrelevant.
"Do you think she's practising blood magic?" There was not a hint of disapproval in Hawke's voice, but something more akin to irritation. "Don't skip around the subject. If that is the case, I expect double the payment. Who knows what demons she might send after me?"
The elf spat at her feet savagely. "How dare you! Sympathy has never - " Beside himself, he could not finish
Instead of being offended, Hawke simply laughed. "I'm afraid you're in denial, kid. Come on, she's going to see someone? At this Crossroads of the Spirits…? Don't be so naive. Look, I won't expect the other five sovereigns unless there are demons, and if there are, then you can square the debt when I return. Sound fair?"
The elf growled, muttering to himself. "I am only accepting the terms because I know you can do it." He looked at her; his eyes bright and narrowed. "I know of your reputation. But this is just a go-and-find mission. There will be no blood magic."
Hawke nodded and took his name and arranged a suitable meeting place, as well as any further details he was able or willing to give to her. With the sun fast setting in the sky and a rather important nighttime appointment to keep, she could afford to make only one visit.
XXX
It was dusk when Hawke had finished some last minute shopping and made her way to Fenris mansion. She let herself in – the lock had long since rusted through, but there was nothing worth stealing and a hungry wolf inside. It was a fatal place to force entry. The air felt slightly damp and the floorboards creaked under her feet, moaning like ghosts. The mansion still held some form of ancient, dusty grandeur that was only enhanced by the advanced state of decay. In its prime it had been gaudy and hideous, with more gold and baubles than taste. Now with its wooden banisters dark with rot and the gold and silver dull with age and neglect it far more suited itself and it's present resident.
She climbed the stairs, which sighed like old men under a great burden and walked into the master bedroom - where Fenris spent most of his time reading, drinking and entertaining himself. This time however, she heard another voice in his chambers and realised that he must have a guest. A rare occasion.
"Oh come now, Fenris, don't be so shy about it all. It's not really illegal – at least I don't think it is in this province."
Fenris' deep liquid voice answered with a dark rebuttal.
"Fine, have it your way… But like it or not, you have the same needs as the next man. You know where to find me when you realise that."
A figure, curvaceous and full bodied like a dark wine stood and slipped past Hawke in the doorway, giving her a knowing wink. Hawke felt a sharp stab of cold hatred flare up in her mind. There had never been very much between Isabela and herself, but the pirate woman's frivolous and provocative attitude was becoming more than tiring. It was not a quality Hawke valued in her followers and here she was, harassing the wolf. She didn't deserve to walk away unscathed. Hawke cleared her throat and her head, taking a deep breath in order to calm down. Striding confidently into the room, she confronted Fenris.
"So what did she want?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut. Hawke had never seen him looking this weary. Sitting down, she poured a measure from the dark green bottle on the side table, the blood-wine thick and black in the greasy glasses. A single candle guttered and wavered with a weak white flame, leaving everything else in flickering blue shadow.
"To what do I owe this immeasurable pleasure?" he sighed, his voice heavy with sarcasm and dark wit.
"It's good to see you too," Hawke replied without missing a beat. She could banter with Anders, but Fenris did not share his irony. His tone was far more bitter and close to the truth. "I picked up another job that I want you to accompany me on."
"What sort of job?"
"We have to go to some questionable place north of the Dalish settlement to find and retrieve an elf. Nothing really unusual."
"Dalish?" His voice seemed a little more tolerant. He looked at her, his face both young and old at the same time. His dark skin was handsome, looking darker and more exotic when contrasted with his snowy hair. But his eyes were hooded and narrow for an elf, making them look lined and tired. The scars on his chin and throat stood out silver in the candlelight, quicksilver and moonlight. His was a face not to be lied to.
"There's a possibility we'll be dealing directly with blood magic. I know that you don't like to dip your feet in mage-craft when you can help it. Certainly I know you have no love for myself or some of our other friends, Merrill and Anders in particular. But you fight well with us, and your help would be appreciated."
He said nothing, considering. The candle sputtered and finally died, bathing everything in silver-blue mid-tones and dark shadows. "The air is bad here," he said without apology. "Damp, musty."
"How are you doing here Fenris? It's been more than three years. Why do you still wait?"
He shot her a dark look, barely visible in the half-light. "What else do you suggest I do?"
"I don't know," she answered sadly, truthfully. "You don't have to be alone you know. You could wait at my manor if you please. Or come with us more on missions and such. You'd make some money out of it. Perhaps you just need a sense of accomplishment."
Fenris re-lit the candle and sank back into his armchair, showing a brief, rare smile, his packed muscles relaxing under a thin shirt. Under the light of the new candle, Hawke could see the sorry state of his clothes.
"What makes you think I have no love for you or – as you put it – 'some of our friends'?"
She looked at him, unsure how to take the question.
"Your offer heartens me, but I must refuse. Danarius could return at any time – I presume he's simply biding his time. As for holding no love for you…" he sighed again, his chest deflating heavily. "Do not doubt that your company pleases me. It's far more stimulating than – " he gestured to the open door. "At least you bring me the prospect of work and interesting company. Mage or no, you make my life a little easier, a little brighter."
A giddy jolt made her heart beat out of time. How far could she take this conversation before he closed up? A brief thought of Anders flitted through her mind, wavering like the candle. Loyalty to him left her no room to pursue this particular line of conversation, but this tiny ray of moonlight was far more precious, far more delicate than Anders' frank open love. No, it wasn't more or less precious than Anders love. For all the sun was strong, the moon was beautiful.
"You find my company stimulating?" she stammered.
He shrugged. "I thought that was obvious."
A silence descended after that. Hawke was very aware of the time. The sun had set and night had moved completely over the world like a curtain. She couldn't think of any reply, her heart stuttering. Her eyes started to itch from the strain of seeing by the light of only a single candle. When she finally forced herself to speak, Fenris cut in before her.
"I will take the job with you. When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow. I'll come and fetch you at dawn."
"I look forward to it."
With that, he stood and stroke over to the murky windows, tugging the ragged curtains over them. It was time for her to go home.
XXX
Her mother and her dog greeted her warmly as she entered her new manor estate. Roffle leapt up on his hind legs and Hawke struggled to support the weight of the heavy, grinning animal. Once he had settled down by the fire once more, her mother kissed both her cheeks and told her, "Your brother wrote. He's going to come visit us when he is next on leave."
"Oh good," Hawke managed to fake just the right amount of joy to convince her mother. "He can look after the dog while I go out to work."
Her mother frowned, but changed the subject. "There is a gentleman waiting for you in the hall. He says you're expecting him." She gave her daughter a playful glare. "I do hope wedding bells will be ringing on account of this meeting."
Hawke snorted.
"Well, I'll leave you two to it. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Grinning happily, Hawk strode into the hall, and pulled Anders into a tight embrace.