-Anders-

In all my years as a Warden and a mage, I have never met a woman quite like Logan Hawke.

I was wary at first. I'm a Feraldan Warden and apostate – there is really no cause at all to be wary right? The refugees who had taken to protecting me brought her to the clinic.

She was a taller woman or maybe it was because she simply stood confidently. She was dressed simply in an undyed linen shirt and breeches – surprisingly, she carried no weapons. Her little longer than shoulder length black hair was bound loosely to one side but it was the face that always drew my attention. Her right eye was swathed in ragged bandages, completely hidden. Scars radiated from the right – one dipped down through the corner of her lip and trailed down her chin and a thick red band of scar tissue ran over the bridge of her nose. Smaller ones edged the bandages. She met my eyes calmly and I wondered why she wasn't saying anything.

She had caught me in the middle of healing. Most people ran screaming from apostates. Instead she just seemed to take it in stride. It unnerved me a little bit. I admit that I demanded to know what she was doing here.

"Be at peace." The one eyed woman said, her voice soft and soothing. "I am not here to spy for the Templars or cause any trouble. I am unarmed and bring only medicines."

True enough, I couldn't even see a hint of a blade under the cloth of her shirt and the basket she held had jars. The dog she brought with her sat placidly, panting, a makeshift harness strapped to his shoulders. The leather bags had small glints of glass that peeked out from under the flaps.

"And how can I trust you?"

She met my eyes, cool and composed.

"You may trust me or not, that is your choice."

The answer was straightforward. I understood that if I asked her to leave, she would. Although I wasn't going to just let her go now that she knew what I was. But I had heard of her too.

"I've heard of you. You are Logan Hawke."

Again she looked unsurprised that I knew her name.

"They say you bring food and medicine to those who need it. They say you're Fereldan."

She bowed her head in assent. Another Fereldan refugee with a passion for healing? Surely she couldn't be all bad. Then again, the Templars would say anything to get here.

"I cannot say I can return the favor of the name." Logan said.

"I am Anders." I introduced myself. It was common enough information.

"A pleasure to meet you Anders." She said and held a hand out. I was surprised to the say the least. She was offering a handshake to an apostate? I mentally shrugged off my shock and reached out to take her hand. A small tingle ran up and down my fingertips and I struggled with the massive surprise.

Another apostate? There could be no mistake – she had magic! A flicker of recognition went through her blue eye before vanishing under the cool exterior. We dropped hands and I heard the boy stir. I went to his side and Logan dropped to her knees beside her dog, ruffling through the jars.

"It will be alright, I think." I said to the Fereldan refugees watching. They nodded, looking relieved. They seemed to like Logan too. They turned and left, leaving us to our business.

Hundreds of questions were buzzing through my mind. None of the rumors I had heard mentioned that she had magic. She must have been hiding it – neglecting to use it in order to stay hidden. I didn't blame her for doing it. But Fereldan? She was either in the circle or had completely avoided it altogether. How did she get away from the Templars all this time? I ran my hand over the boys chest again, letting magic soothe the coughs again.

When the boy settled, I turned to Logan again.

"May I speak to you?" I asked, hardly able to contain how badly I wanted to know.

She nodded and got to her feet, dusting off her pants. I led her to a more secluded part of the clinic although it was empty except for the boy. Magic was not something be flaunted and if she wanted to keep it a secret, I respected her wishes.

"I think you know what I'm going to ask." I said.

In response she held her hand out. My fingers tingled in response to the small blue flame she summoned to her fingertip. It flickered for a moment, holding the silence before she released it.

"And an apostate?" I breathed.

"I could ask the same." She said with the smallest hint of a smile. "I would have said something earlier but to reveal it, even to Feraldens would have been dangerous."

"I understand of course." I said. I really did.

Then the parents came in and called me over. I lingered for a moment, wanted to ask more but when Logan gave me a small tilt of her head I was assured she wasn't going anywhere. I returned to the boy. I watched her check lids out of the corner of my eye. Once I reassured the parents that the boy would be alright, they left hesitantly.

"Will he be alright?" Logan asked me softly, her eyes straying to the young man on the table.

"He'll be fine with some rest." I murmured back and then raised an eyebrow. These poultices had some rare herbs. "May I?"

"I did mean to give you them in the first place." She said it seriously but it struck me as funny anyway. I couldn't resist a chuckle. She gave me another of those almost smiles.

Logan was interesting and it was hard to come by company that didn't flinch at my being a mage. Justice was actually quiet about this. I examined one of the tinctures and grimaced at the smell. Smells bad but works very well. These were hard to find herbs.

"Where did you find these?" I asked, curious.

"Owen is quite good at finding them outside in the forests of Kirkwall." She replied, looking at her dog. The large creature wagged its strange half length tail. He wasn't full Mabari and he looked downright odd with that floppy ear.

"I see."

"I take it you are not a fan of dogs?" She asked and there was a hint of amusement in her tone. I grinned in response – I couldn't believe she picked up on that so quickly.

"I'm more of a cat person." I said, sliding the rest of what she brought onto a barrel and sitting down on a crate. She leaned against the wall, her expression polite but interested.

"I'm surprised the Wardens let you keep a cat." She said, not looking at all surprised anyway. It was hard to get her to express something else.

"They didn't." I said blandly. I missed that cat. "Poor Ser-Pounce-Lot. He didn't deserve that."

Some of the pain was dampened by the amused smile tugging on my new friends lips.

"Ser Pounce-a-lot?" She asked, a full – if not small – smile now.

"A gift from a friend." I said, remembering the red haired elf who gave it to me and then encouraged my naming sense with a pang. She was a lot of fun and I missed her. "Bravest creature I ever met – swatted a grenlock once. Drew blood too!"

"Sounds like a courageous creature. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to meet him." She said sincerely. I sighed. I did miss that cat something fierce.

There was a pause in the conversation and the question I had been itching to ask spilled out.

"How are you not in the Circle?"

When she looked down, I was afraid I had offended her or brought back –some painful memories. I was about to apologize when she spoke again.

"That is a difficult question for a first meeting." She observed quietly.

Now I did apologize. Obviously it had not been easy. Being a mage was not easy.

"I could ask you the same thing." Logan said, crossing her arms and looking at Owen. "Especially here where the Templars are so – fervent – in their searches."

I snorted. She was being polite – there was no way to mistake them being fervent for brutality. She was carefully neutral about it and it bothered me a little bit.

And Justice.

"Hardy. It's barbaric what they're doing. Mages deserve their freedom."

It had been the one driving statement for years. Surely she must feel the same way – being hunted and hated just for being what she was.

But instead of agreeing she made a roundabout answer. Maybe she just didn't trust me yet.

"Brutality is not the way to prevent another Imperium from rising, if that's what you mean."

It was not what I hoped for but a small victory nonetheless.

"That's not usually the answer I get."

Usually the answer I get is are you mad? You possessed? It's like 'mages' and 'freedom' in the same sentence makes you automatically insane.

"My father was an apostate." She said and I started a little bit in surprise. Her father too? "I would have given anything to keep my family – all of us – safe. I understand."

Her understanding made me happier than I had been in a very long while. Helping people was nice but to have someone truly understand my cause was something different entirely. I wondered if I told her of Justice, would she even understand then?

Call me selfish, but I didn't want to. Not yet.

"Would have?" I repeated and then realized. "Oh – I'm sorry."

Her father had died but from what? Justice stirred again and I did my best to force him out of my mind.

"In Lothering." She said. I remembered Lothering. A ruin when I saw it. I wondered how it had been before. "When the darkspawn attacked four years before."

"I had heard…" It was all I could say when she looked outside. Darktown was getting darker. Night had already begun to approach.

"I should go." She said – but she looked a little reluctant to leave. It was good to have a friend, I realized. "If it is not too much trouble may I return tomorrow?"

It was silly she should ask that. The clinic was always understaffed and I would have more opportunity to ask her about how she got away.

"It's no trouble." I assured her with a grateful smile. She returned it and gathered up her things, whistling to Owen. He trotted over to her and she adjusted his packs before waving.

"Good to meet you Anders." Logan said.

"And you Logan."