Author's Note:

All Dragon Age 2 characters are copyright (c) BioWare – many thanks to them for creating a complex and engaging fantasy world and allowing me to play in it's sandbox.

Currently rated T for violence and occasional suggestive themes. Upcoming chapters may be rated M for adult content.

Anders

I settle into my tent and lean back, closing my eyes. The glow of the fading campfire dances in my vision, drifting spots of light within the darkness. I rub my face, yawning. Hands clasped behind my head against the stiff pillow, I try to lull myself to sleep. My mind, however, has other ideas.

Was I too forward with Hawke? I wonder what she thinks of me now. What did I say that seemed so unusual to her? Surely she's asked herself the very same questions before. Judging, however, by some of her responses it seems more and more unlikely.

Justice has some pointed questions of his own. "I still do not understand why you did that."

"I just wanted to get to know her better," I reply.

"Yes, but the sleep spell you cast on her sister – was that not rather...manipulative?"

"I wouldn't say that. She was already well on her way to dreamland. I just...helped it along a little."

"I notice that you mortals are certainly quick enough to relinquish responsibility. Do you actually believe that this somehow justifies your actions?"

"I'm not looking to justify anything here, least of all to you, Justice."

"Perhaps if you wish Hawke to question her own beliefs and motives, Anders, you should do the same for yourself first."

I know he means to discourage my attentions, but his words only serve to make me think of her more. Why can't I get her out of my mind? What is it about her that makes my heart skip a beat when her eyes meet mine; what intangible force compels me to secretly desire her smile?

And what would be the point? I know I can't act on my feelings. Not as I am now. There is too much at stake. She is too much of a risk. There is too much to lose. She isn't worth it.

"Stop it! Stop forcing your thoughts upon me, you blighted spirit!"

"I will hear none of your petty accusations. Your thoughts are my thoughts, now, Anders. This is the path you have chosen. Do not blame me for the consequences."

"Admit it, Justice. You made as much of a mistake as I did. You're just as responsible for this as I am."

"Impossible. I am simply not capable of error. A mere mortal like you could never begin to conceive - "

" - conceive what? How positively arrogant and complacent you are?"

"How dare you! I am as impervious to flaws in character as I am to error."

"So your idea of merging with me went exactly according to plan, I suppose."

At this point, Justice falls silent, since he's never been a good liar. When I do not hear his assertive voice in my mind, I spend the night wondering how this spirit of the Fade suddenly developed a sense of pride.

Over the next few days, we set out further into the Deep Roads. The path we take forges deeper than even I have ever been when I was a Warden and well beyond the scope of my maps. The heat has become oppressive now, assaulting us with every tired, dry breath we take.

I have all but abandoned my favourite coat to my pack; it's once lofty feathers have become straggly, threadbare and limp – now reeking of smoke and sweat. As a result, I'm feeling more self-conscious than ever; like I am exposed in just my light armour under-padding and robes. I can feel Hawke's eyes upon me and I know what she's thinking. She says nothing, but the pained expression she has when she notices my gaunt frame (followed by second servings of stew and the spare ration of bread she hands me when no one else is looking) speak volumes.

"Trying to fatten me up?" I grin the next time she hands me an extra portion.

"I can't help it," she shrugs, "what do they feed you in Darktown, anyway? Rats?"

"Only on special occasions. Usually it's just cockroaches and the odd pigeon if you're lucky."

"Well, after we're done down here, Anders, I promise you the most extravagant feast of your life – on me."

I can't prevent the corner of my mouth from betraying me. "I daresay the idea of feasting off you is more than a little compelling. Think you can handle keeping such a promise?" If Justice had eyes to roll right now, he would.

"Sure, but can you?" she winks back.

"By the ancestors," Varric shakes his head as he wolfs down his stew, "how can you go from sewer vermin to innuendo faster than Bianca can impale a genlock? It must be a human thing,"

I shrug, "I'm just talented that way. So shoot me,"

"If you keep it up, I just might," he laughs.

Fenris strides up to Hawke and leans over to whisper in her ear. She furrows her brow for a moment in silent contemplation before rising and turning to the rest of us. "Anders? Varric? Could you come with us for a minute?" Her eyes quickly shift from ours to our weapons lying nearby.

Bethany notices. "What's wrong?" she sets down her bowl to rise from the campfire.

"Nothing, Bee. Just need to take care of a little something for Bartrand."

"Without us?" her sister's eyes narrow.

"Can't I come, too?" Merrill says with her mouth full.

"Don't need my two powerhouses for the small stuff," Hawke grins. "Just relax and finish your supper. We'll be back before you can say, 'Maker help us, it's an Archdemon!'"

I pick up my staff and follow Hawke and the others. Bodahn and Sandal wave as we pass through Bartrand's encampment. Once we've rounded a corner and have trekked for a couple of minutes down a narrow side passage, the air goes a little more stale than usual. The flowing lava on either side casts harsh shadows against the cavern walls. Fenris nudges Hawke. "Up ahead," he says in a grim voice.

At this point, Hawke turns, face as hard as the stone pillars around us.

"We've got an ogre to deal with."